Exclusive [One Piece (AU), Zoro/Sanji] Part A
Title: Exclusive
Fandom: One Piece
Main Pairing: Zoro/Sanji, Sanji/Zoro
Minor Pairings/Characters: Franky/Robin, Buggy (Buggy~>Zoro), Johnny/Yosaku, mention of Kuro (Sanji/Kuro), Mihawk, Zeff, Luffy & Chopper (Tony), Vivi (Vivi~>Luffy), Doublefinger (Paula), Patty & Carne, Usopp/Nami
Rating: Hard R/NC-17
Word Count: 7,980
Disclaimer: One Piece and its characters do not belong to me.
Summary: [Modern AU] Zoro loves Sanji, Sanji loves Zoro. Zoro wants to be exclusive, so Sanji should, too. Right?
A/N: Starts out as more of a slices-of-life kind of thing, but there’s a plot in here, I promise.
Part B is HERE.
Zoro sat in the pick-up truck, toying with a pack of Marlboros, as Sanji delivered the birthday cake. He’d gotten a peek at it in the bakery while it was being boxed up-a chocolate cake shaped like a pirate’s treasure chest, decorated with little golden coins and jewels spilling out. Very extravagant, but Zoro didn’t expect anything less from an employee of Zeff’s. He looked out the window to watch a gaggle of children running around the front yard; he idly wondered which one was the birthday kid until he saw a long-nosed, orange-haired boy with a paper crown on his head.
An interesting looking child, he thought to himself before glancing at the front porch, where Sanji was giving the cake to the parents. The mother accepted the box with a smile before shooting her husband a sharp, expectant look; he hurried to pull his checkbook out of his wallet. Zoro chuckled and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes as he waited.
While he sometimes thought that Sanji should learn to drive or perhaps hire a real delivery person, he didn’t too much mind driving Sanji around. He wasn’t getting paid for it, but he was living in the other guy’s apartment without having to pay any rent, and that was better than money. The only downside was the way all the cakes made his truck smell like a giant sugary pastry.
“All done.”
Zoro opened his eyes and sat up as Sanji climbed into the passenger’s seat. “Back to the bakery?” he asked, handing him the pack of cigarettes and watching as slender fingers pulled one out and lit it.
“Mm.” Sanji inhaled deeply, removed his cigarette briefly, and exhaled slowly, a stream of smoke trailing past his lips and out the partly rolled down window. “You don’t wanna go somewhere?”
Zoro shook his head as he started the truck. “I’ve gotta get back to the carnival. The ‘World’s Strongest Man’ exhibit opens in thirty minutes.”
“Your dedication to that freak show astounds me.”
He shrugged. “I’ve been with them since I was seven. It’s not like I can just leave. I think Mihawk wants me to take over once he’s gone. You should understand that; it’s the same thing with you and Big Papa Zeff.”
Sanji grimaced. “Please don’t call him that.” Scoffing, he continued, “I’m never taking over; that old man will never die. He’s like a cockroach. With facial hair.”
“That’s gross.”
“And you calling him ‘Big Papa Zeff’ isn’t?” They exchanged smirks and rode in silence for a bit. Sanji, fingers growing restless despite the cigarette between his lips, reached over and traced the shell of Zoro’s ear. “Hey. Pay attention to the road, okay?”
Brow furrowing, Zoro tried to ask “What’s that supposed to mean?” But all he got out was “What’s tha-” before Sanji’s tongue slid inside his ear and the rest of the words got stuck in his throat. Body growing tense, he gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles whitened. While one hand held his cigarette, Sanji’s free one grasped Zoro’s thigh as he nibbled at Zoro’s lobe.
Zoro gritted his teeth and tried not to get distracted. Damn, the man was insatiable. Not that he was complaining, really. Every touch of his lips, tongue, fingers was incredible. No lover had ever been able to arouse him so completely so quickly. But it wasn’t just the sex, of course. He liked the clothes Sanji wore-the hats, vests, ties, button down shirts. He liked the sound of his voice when he sang, whispered, read aloud. He liked the different ways he smelled-like chocolate, like tobacco, like strawberries, like vanilla. He liked watching him cook, dance, sleep, and…and everything.
He was crazy about the guy.
Sanji released him slowly when he came to a stop in front of Zeff’s, warm breath lingering over Zoro’s ear for a torturous moment that was longer than necessary. “I’ll see you later,” he murmured, brushing a kiss against his cheek before climbing out of the truck.
Zoro sighed and glared down at the erection trapped within his tight pants. He growled at it for a moment in an attempt to frighten it away, but that did nothing except make him feel pretty silly. He sighed again and concentrated on unsexy things-broccoli, the smell of hospitals, trigonometry-as he headed to the carnival.
[--]
“Ooh, look at the World’s Strongest Man~!”
“Can you pick me up, World’s Strongest Man~?”
“Of course he can~! Don’t you see all his glistening muscles~?”
“Oh my~!”
Rolling his eyes, Zoro wiped a towel over his bare, sweaty chest. His arms were sore; he’d done all the lifting today on his own, without the pretty-much-invisible wires that tended to hold up the heavier objects (i.e. the piano). He hadn’t needed to, but sometimes he just wanted to, mainly to give Mihawk a not-very-subtle reminder that he could.
“Shut up.” He tossed the towel at Johnny and Yosaku before snagging a T-shirt to put on. “Which one of you is the Bearded Lady today?”
“Well, that’s why we came to you,” Johnny said, adjusting his sunglasses. “See, I took Yosaku’s shifts last week while he was sick.”
“But I took over for Johnny in December,” said Yosaku, “while he was visiting family for Christmas.”
Zoro raised, lowered one shoulder nonchalantly. “Sounds like you’re even to me.”
“Exactly,” nodded Johnny. “So that’s why we wanted to know if you’d do it today.”
His cool answer came quickly, with no hesitation, as he left the tent: “Fuck no.” He hated being the Bearded Woman.
He heard them begin a round of Rock, Paper, Scissors as he walked away, following the smell of funnel cake and popcorn to the nearest food stall. Paula was working today, looking faintly bored as she tied a colorful scarf around her frizzy hair. She had his usual hot dog waiting for him; he nodded his thanks as he accepted it.
“You almost lost it to the human garbage disposal over there,” she said, pointing with one elegant, manicured finger to the boy in the straw hat sitting a couple of stools away from him.
“Oi, Luffy,” he snapped in faux-irritation. “Too busy stuffing your face to notice you’re starving everyone else?”
“Sorry, Zoro!” Although the grin the boy was sporting said he was anything but. “We were hungry!” He said, draping an arm around the shoulders of his younger friend beside him.
“You and Tony are always hungry,” Zoro grumbled, wiping a bit of rogue ketchup off his chin.
“We’re growing boys,” Tony explained between mouthfuls of popcorn. “We need sustenance.”
“Sustenance? I don’t know what that is, but it sounds good.” Luffy nodded decidedly. “Let’s have an order of sustenance!”
Zoro wasn’t sure which was funnier-Luffy’s stupidity or the sight of Yosaku wearing a long black beard and inflatable boobs hidden beneath a rather unbecoming tube top.
[--]
“Buggy called.” Sanji hummed pleasantly, stretching his arms out above his head for a moment while Zoro got comfortable on his lap, green head dipping down as he unbuttoned his shirt. He let one hand drop down to rest lightly at the back of Zoro’s neck, fingers brushing at the softer hair there. “He wants to see that vampire movie with you,” he continued, smiling a little when Zoro bit down gently on his collarbone. “Please tell me he at least takes off that red clown nose when you’re out in public.”
“He doesn’t.”
Sanji laughed, body jerking slightly as he did so, as Zoro’s mouth moved lower, toyed with his nipple. “That’s fucked up.” Zoro’s fingers slid down to unbutton, unzip his pants, and his laughter turned into more of a groan. He moved his hand down from Zoro’s neck to his ass. “You’re not tapping that, are you?”
Zoro straightened up, pressing their groins together, and gave him A Look. A Look Sanji had seen before, but hadn’t yet been able to decipher. “Let’s move to the bedroom.”
Sanji squeezed his ass, his smile widening at the man’s sharp intake of breath. “Sure.”
[--]
Zoro knew Sanji was sleeping with other people. The fact that “monogamous” wasn’t in the other man’s vocabulary was something he’d known from the beginning, and that hadn’t been a problem. In the beginning. He’d had his own lovers on the side-Johnny first, then Yosaku (it amused him to no end that they were shacking up now). But he hadn’t had anyone else in a long time. He didn’t want anyone else. It seemed that Sanji, however, still did.
“Dinner tonight?” Sanji asked as he buckled his belt.
“Yeah.” Zoro rolled onto his side to watch him get dressed. “I get paid today, so it doesn’t even have to be Burger King. It could be something as fancy as, uh, Johnny Rocket’s.”
Sanji snorted as he tugged on a shirt. “Tempting. But I’ve got plans with someone.”
“Oh.” Zoro felt his chest tighten, but he tried valiantly to ignore it.
“You should go out, too.”
He bit his tongue to keep from saying something that could possibly start a fight. He wasn’t in the mood for one. He turned back onto his stomach, burrowed his head in his pillow. He could feel Sanji’s eyes on him, but neither of them said anything until Sanji finished dressing.
“Hey,” he said, bending down to kiss Zoro’s head. “I’ll see you when I get home, okay?”
“Yeah,” Zoro mumbled, voice muffled. “Okay.”
Sanji kissed him again and Zoro thought there was something in that kiss that felt a little apologetic, but he couldn’t be too sure.
[--]
Sanji made all kinds of cakes and various pastries and desserts at Zeff’s bakery, but his specialty was wedding cakes. He sat across from two new potential customers-a tall, beautiful woman named Robin and her groom-to-be Franky-as they looked through a portfolio of previous masterpieces.
“These are gorgeous,” Robin said, and he grinned at the compliment. “We’d be honored to have one for our wedding.”
“Oh, no, Miss,” he assured her, reaching across the table to take her hand, “the honor is certainly all mine.”
Robin tittered. Franky coughed. Sanji released her hand only to take out a notepad and pen as he asked, “Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking?”
[--]
“What are you thinking?” Buggy knocked a cold can of beer against Zoro’s head a couple of times until he took it from him. “Sanji’s not the type to put a ring on it.”
Zoro scowled as he popped open the can and took a swig, almost hitting the side of Mihawk’s trailer as he tilted his head back. “I don’t want a ring. I just want…him.”
“How romantic,” the clown grimaced, sitting down beside him. “But you haven’t told him yet.”
“No.”
“Chicken.”
“You’re bugging me, Buggy.”
Buggy shrugged and drank. “You should just start seeing other people again. Meet someone better.”
“There is no one better.”
Buggy ignored this, continued. “Paula’s into you.”
Zoro pointed to the three gold earrings that hung from his left ear. “Gay.”
“Well, I’m sure your two fanboys would be open to a ménage a tr-”
“You’re bugging me, Buggy.”
“You’re both bugging me,” drawled a voice from the trailer window; Zoro and Buggy looked up into Mihawk’s vaguely annoyed-looking face. “Surely you two have something that resembles work that you can do,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
They chugged down their beers and stood, tossing the empty cans onto the ground as they walked away.
“The bossman wants you.”
“Shut up or I’ll rip that stupid nose off.”
[--]
Seven tiers, the pale blue color of a robin’s egg, decorated with pearls and delicate white roses-a cake just as elegant and exquisite as the bride-to-be herself. The groom’s cake-two feminine hands gripping a pair of balls beneath a half-erect penis-wasn’t the kind of cake Sanji made often, but he wasn’t too surprised when Franky requested it; the man looked rather eccentric.
He’d sketched the two cakes in his notepad as the couple described them; now he idly doodled on an empty page as Patty and Carne served them slices of various cakes for taste-testing.
“Which do you like best?” he heard Robin ask her fiancée softly.
“Beats me,” Franky shrugged, holding still as she wiped crumbs off his chin. “They all taste good.”
Sanji was briefly reminded of his live-in lover, who couldn’t tell pesto from marinara, but ate anything Sanji set in front of him. (Well, almost. Ironically enough, the man really didn’t have much of a sweet tooth.)
After a moment, Sanji stopped and looked at what he’d drawn. A three tiered green cake covered in intricate swirls and curlicues, dusted in powdered sugar, topped with a little Ferris wheel. He realized, with a bit of a start, that he’d just drawn what he imagined his and Zoro’s wedding cake might look like. Hastily, he turned to a blank page and waited for his heart to stop pounding.
His and Zoro’s wedding cake.
Where the hell had that come from?
[--]
As evening fell, Zoro found himself working the Ferris wheel. He watched as excited children pointed out sights to their parents, as strangers sat in silence or awkward small talk, as young couples held hands or played tonsil hockey.
“Hey, Zoro.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, assaulted by a sudden memory (only not so sudden, really, since it hit him almost every time he saw this particular ride).
“I want to give you something,” Sanji told him when they reached the top of the wheel.
“What?” he asked, hoping it wasn’t any more desserts; he could only stuff so much down Johnny and Yosaku’s throats before they exploded.
Sanji held a key out between them and it took Zoro a little longer than it should’ve to understand what that meant.
“I can’t keep up with your work hours,” Sanji explained, the corner of his mouth quirking upward in what might’ve been a halted smile and what might’ve been a nervous twitch. “And you’re always sleeping over and drooling on my pillows, anyway. You might as well-”
“Move in?”
“Something like that.” Sanji waited, arching an eyebrow as Zoro did nothing. “If you want it, you better take it before I decide to toss it.”
“I want it,” he said quickly, a little too quickly, and he ignored the faint tinge of red that spread across his nose as he accepted the key. “I, uh-thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Sanji said, voice quiet, and he leaned over to kiss him until the ride ended.
“Hey, Zoro.”
He opened his eyes and glanced down at the boy beside him. “Hey, Tony. Where’s your other half?”
“Up there,” Tony said, pointing to one of the cars near the top of the wheel. “With Vivi.”
Zoro squinted up at their car; it looked like Luffy was singing one of his silly spur-of-the-moment sings while Vivi watched and laughed. Zoro felt a sympathetic tug at his heartstrings. The girl had such a crush on him, though Zoro couldn’t imagine why. He doubted the boy had even realized when puberty hit; he probably thought a libido was a fancy type of sandwich.
Zoro shook his head, watching as Vivi thanked him for riding with her as they stepped out of their car.
“Huh? Sure, no problem!” Luffy shot her a toothy grin before sniffing at the air, taking Tony by the arm, and pulling him away with a cry of, “I smell meat!”
Vivi sighed and Zoro put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Love hurts, kid, and it doesn’t get any better. C’mon, I’ll win you a teddy bear or something.”
[--]
“Oi.” Zoro leaned back to avoid being hit with the foamy bath water Sanji flicked at him. “Knock it off.”
Sanji grinned, resting his arms on the sides of the tub and slinking further down into the bubbles. “Why aren’t you joining me?”
Zoro frowned into the mirror, ran a hand over his jaw, idly wondering if he’d need to shave soon. “I’m thinking.”
“Thinking of fucking me in the bathtub?” Sanji asked in his low Sultry Voice.
“…Well, I am now.”
Sanji chuckled, lifted a leg out of the water and wriggled his toes at him. “Come on.”
Zoro looked at his reflection a moment longer before turning to face the other man, arms crossed over his chest. “Can we talk first?”
“Absolutely,” Sanji said in false seriousness. “I’ll go first.” He cleared his throat, and then, “Zoro, I want you badly.”
Zoro swallowed, considered, and uncrossed his arms. “You win.”
Sanji laughed as Zoro, still fully clothed, stepped into the tub. He wrapped his legs around Zoro’s waist, peeling his shirt off, the action hindered as Zoro refused to stop nuzzling under his jaw.
“Love you,” he murmured against his slick skin.
Sanji smiled and moved his hands to cup Zoro’s face, lifting his head so he could kiss him. “I love you, too,” he whispered against his lips and rocked hard against him, making bubbles and water spill over the sides and onto the floor.
[--]
Zoro hated being the Bearded Woman.
He stood in front of the gaggle of mostly bored but occasionally entertained spectators, wearing a thankfully longish skirt, a bushy beard, and the most incredible rack any not-woman could ever have. He was trying not to look as angry as he felt; not only did he hate being the Bearded Woman, but Luffy had been by and taken a picture that he just knew was going to end up on Facebook. (He hated Facebook.)
“Kind of an ugly woman, ain’t she?” someone remarked, and Zoro rolled his eyes. Of course he was an ugly woman; even Marilyn Monroe would’ve looked less attractive with a beard.
“I don’t know what you mean,” said a familiar voice, heavily laced with amusement.
He tried not to glare too hard at Sanji, who was smirking around a cigarette, hands in his pockets. “I think she’s quite beautiful.”
Go away or I’ll kill you in your sleep, Zoro’s eyes promised.
“In fact,” Sanji continued grandly, his own eyes alight with mischief, ignoring Zoro’s silent vow and enjoying the attention of the other carnival visitors, “I think she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And I would like to marry her, so she will bear my bearded children.”
Had Zoro perhaps been in a better mood, this would’ve made him laugh, or at least crack a smile. But since he wasn’t in a better mood, this humorous non-proposal from the man he so desperately wanted to really be his served only to irk him even more.
“Whaddya say, gorgeous?” Sanji asked with a broad wink.
“You’re not my type, sir,” he deadpanned in a tone he knew the other man would understand.
Judging by the way he said nothing more-much to the crowd’s disappointment-he did understand. But he was waiting in the changing tent, chewing a piece of nicotine gum (which Zoro thought was pretty silly), when Zoro finished.
“PMS?” He asked, watching Zoro rip off his beard and toss it aside.
“Fuck you.”
“What?” Sanji took a faintly cautious step toward him as Zoro hastily disposed of his double-Ds. “I thought it was funny.”
“Yeah.” He took off his shirt and skirt and caught the jeans Sanji tossed to him. “It was hilarious.” The tent was filled with silence as he turned around and dressed, except for Sanji’s chewing. He zipped up his jeans and sighed, frowning at the ground. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m a little irritated today.”
“I couldn’t tell.” Sanji moved closer, reached out and rubbed soothingly at his shoulders. “Want me to make you feel better?”
Scowling, Zoro shrugged his hands off. “I don’t want to fuck.”
Sanji glared at his back; he hit him lightly so he’d turned around and the glare could be more effective. “That’s not all I do.”
Zoro glared back, snapped, “Really? Could’ve fooled me.”
Hurt flashed through Sanji’s eyes before anger completely overtook it. “I’ll talk to you later, when you’re not being an asshole.”
“Whatever,” Zoro muttered as Sanji left the tent in a huff.
He hated being the Bearded Woman.
[--]
They drove out to the beach one night; they parked the truck in the lot and made out while Sid Vicious’ “My Way” played on the radio. Zoro’s hands fumbled with his seatbelt as he responded to Sanji’s kisses, lips parted wide so the man’s demanding-devouring tongue could re-explore his mouth. He pulled away when he managed to get his seatbelt undone and took a deep, steadying breath before getting out.
Sanji followed him out onto the sand, inhaling salty sea air as he reached out to link their arms together. Zoro took comfort in the man’s touch, hopefully enough comfort to broach the subject he wanted to. “So…how was work?” (That wasn’t it.)
Sanji snickered. “I’m gonna make a penis cake.”
“Delicious.”
“Indeed. What about you?”
Zoro hesitated for a second, then shook his head. “I don’t wanna talk about work.”
“Okay.” Sanji eyed him as Zoro tugged at his arm, bringing him down to sit on the sand. “You started it, dummy.”
Zoro slid his arm free as he brought his knees up to his chest and frowned out at the dark waves of the water. “I wanna talk about…something else.”
“I’m listening.”
Zoro wrapped his arms around his knees and said nothing for a while. He had a bad, heavy feeling in his gut that this wasn’t going to go very well. Sanji lit a cigarette and didn’t prod, waiting patiently; perhaps he had a bad feeling as well.
Finally, he stretched his legs out in front of him, placing his hands on the sand, fingers digging into it as he started, “You know I’m not seeing anyone else.”
“Mmhm,” Sanji hummed in a Fuck-I-Know-What’s-Coming way.
“And I know that you are,” he continued slowly. “But I wanted to ask if you would-”
Sanji cut him off, quickly, and if Zoro hadn’t been so disappointed, he would’ve been grateful. “Zoro, I know what you’re going to ask. And I’m telling you, don’t do it, okay? You won’t like my answer.”
“Gotcha.” Zoro narrowed his eyes at the water, vaguely wishing the waves would come up and take him and drag him under.
“We’ve got a good thing, don’t we?” Sanji asked, scooting closer, fingers finding Zoro’s in the sand.
“Yeah,” he said.
And the subject was closed.
Fandom: One Piece
Main Pairing: Zoro/Sanji, Sanji/Zoro
Minor Pairings/Characters: Franky/Robin, Buggy (Buggy~>Zoro), Johnny/Yosaku, mention of Kuro (Sanji/Kuro), Mihawk, Zeff, Luffy & Chopper (Tony), Vivi (Vivi~>Luffy), Doublefinger (Paula), Patty & Carne, Usopp/Nami
Rating: Hard R/NC-17
Word Count: 7,980
Disclaimer: One Piece and its characters do not belong to me.
Summary: [Modern AU] Zoro loves Sanji, Sanji loves Zoro. Zoro wants to be exclusive, so Sanji should, too. Right?
A/N: Starts out as more of a slices-of-life kind of thing, but there’s a plot in here, I promise.
Part B is HERE.
Zoro sat in the pick-up truck, toying with a pack of Marlboros, as Sanji delivered the birthday cake. He’d gotten a peek at it in the bakery while it was being boxed up-a chocolate cake shaped like a pirate’s treasure chest, decorated with little golden coins and jewels spilling out. Very extravagant, but Zoro didn’t expect anything less from an employee of Zeff’s. He looked out the window to watch a gaggle of children running around the front yard; he idly wondered which one was the birthday kid until he saw a long-nosed, orange-haired boy with a paper crown on his head.
An interesting looking child, he thought to himself before glancing at the front porch, where Sanji was giving the cake to the parents. The mother accepted the box with a smile before shooting her husband a sharp, expectant look; he hurried to pull his checkbook out of his wallet. Zoro chuckled and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes as he waited.
While he sometimes thought that Sanji should learn to drive or perhaps hire a real delivery person, he didn’t too much mind driving Sanji around. He wasn’t getting paid for it, but he was living in the other guy’s apartment without having to pay any rent, and that was better than money. The only downside was the way all the cakes made his truck smell like a giant sugary pastry.
“All done.”
Zoro opened his eyes and sat up as Sanji climbed into the passenger’s seat. “Back to the bakery?” he asked, handing him the pack of cigarettes and watching as slender fingers pulled one out and lit it.
“Mm.” Sanji inhaled deeply, removed his cigarette briefly, and exhaled slowly, a stream of smoke trailing past his lips and out the partly rolled down window. “You don’t wanna go somewhere?”
Zoro shook his head as he started the truck. “I’ve gotta get back to the carnival. The ‘World’s Strongest Man’ exhibit opens in thirty minutes.”
“Your dedication to that freak show astounds me.”
He shrugged. “I’ve been with them since I was seven. It’s not like I can just leave. I think Mihawk wants me to take over once he’s gone. You should understand that; it’s the same thing with you and Big Papa Zeff.”
Sanji grimaced. “Please don’t call him that.” Scoffing, he continued, “I’m never taking over; that old man will never die. He’s like a cockroach. With facial hair.”
“That’s gross.”
“And you calling him ‘Big Papa Zeff’ isn’t?” They exchanged smirks and rode in silence for a bit. Sanji, fingers growing restless despite the cigarette between his lips, reached over and traced the shell of Zoro’s ear. “Hey. Pay attention to the road, okay?”
Brow furrowing, Zoro tried to ask “What’s that supposed to mean?” But all he got out was “What’s tha-” before Sanji’s tongue slid inside his ear and the rest of the words got stuck in his throat. Body growing tense, he gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles whitened. While one hand held his cigarette, Sanji’s free one grasped Zoro’s thigh as he nibbled at Zoro’s lobe.
Zoro gritted his teeth and tried not to get distracted. Damn, the man was insatiable. Not that he was complaining, really. Every touch of his lips, tongue, fingers was incredible. No lover had ever been able to arouse him so completely so quickly. But it wasn’t just the sex, of course. He liked the clothes Sanji wore-the hats, vests, ties, button down shirts. He liked the sound of his voice when he sang, whispered, read aloud. He liked the different ways he smelled-like chocolate, like tobacco, like strawberries, like vanilla. He liked watching him cook, dance, sleep, and…and everything.
He was crazy about the guy.
Sanji released him slowly when he came to a stop in front of Zeff’s, warm breath lingering over Zoro’s ear for a torturous moment that was longer than necessary. “I’ll see you later,” he murmured, brushing a kiss against his cheek before climbing out of the truck.
Zoro sighed and glared down at the erection trapped within his tight pants. He growled at it for a moment in an attempt to frighten it away, but that did nothing except make him feel pretty silly. He sighed again and concentrated on unsexy things-broccoli, the smell of hospitals, trigonometry-as he headed to the carnival.
[--]
“Ooh, look at the World’s Strongest Man~!”
“Can you pick me up, World’s Strongest Man~?”
“Of course he can~! Don’t you see all his glistening muscles~?”
“Oh my~!”
Rolling his eyes, Zoro wiped a towel over his bare, sweaty chest. His arms were sore; he’d done all the lifting today on his own, without the pretty-much-invisible wires that tended to hold up the heavier objects (i.e. the piano). He hadn’t needed to, but sometimes he just wanted to, mainly to give Mihawk a not-very-subtle reminder that he could.
“Shut up.” He tossed the towel at Johnny and Yosaku before snagging a T-shirt to put on. “Which one of you is the Bearded Lady today?”
“Well, that’s why we came to you,” Johnny said, adjusting his sunglasses. “See, I took Yosaku’s shifts last week while he was sick.”
“But I took over for Johnny in December,” said Yosaku, “while he was visiting family for Christmas.”
Zoro raised, lowered one shoulder nonchalantly. “Sounds like you’re even to me.”
“Exactly,” nodded Johnny. “So that’s why we wanted to know if you’d do it today.”
His cool answer came quickly, with no hesitation, as he left the tent: “Fuck no.” He hated being the Bearded Woman.
He heard them begin a round of Rock, Paper, Scissors as he walked away, following the smell of funnel cake and popcorn to the nearest food stall. Paula was working today, looking faintly bored as she tied a colorful scarf around her frizzy hair. She had his usual hot dog waiting for him; he nodded his thanks as he accepted it.
“You almost lost it to the human garbage disposal over there,” she said, pointing with one elegant, manicured finger to the boy in the straw hat sitting a couple of stools away from him.
“Oi, Luffy,” he snapped in faux-irritation. “Too busy stuffing your face to notice you’re starving everyone else?”
“Sorry, Zoro!” Although the grin the boy was sporting said he was anything but. “We were hungry!” He said, draping an arm around the shoulders of his younger friend beside him.
“You and Tony are always hungry,” Zoro grumbled, wiping a bit of rogue ketchup off his chin.
“We’re growing boys,” Tony explained between mouthfuls of popcorn. “We need sustenance.”
“Sustenance? I don’t know what that is, but it sounds good.” Luffy nodded decidedly. “Let’s have an order of sustenance!”
Zoro wasn’t sure which was funnier-Luffy’s stupidity or the sight of Yosaku wearing a long black beard and inflatable boobs hidden beneath a rather unbecoming tube top.
[--]
“Buggy called.” Sanji hummed pleasantly, stretching his arms out above his head for a moment while Zoro got comfortable on his lap, green head dipping down as he unbuttoned his shirt. He let one hand drop down to rest lightly at the back of Zoro’s neck, fingers brushing at the softer hair there. “He wants to see that vampire movie with you,” he continued, smiling a little when Zoro bit down gently on his collarbone. “Please tell me he at least takes off that red clown nose when you’re out in public.”
“He doesn’t.”
Sanji laughed, body jerking slightly as he did so, as Zoro’s mouth moved lower, toyed with his nipple. “That’s fucked up.” Zoro’s fingers slid down to unbutton, unzip his pants, and his laughter turned into more of a groan. He moved his hand down from Zoro’s neck to his ass. “You’re not tapping that, are you?”
Zoro straightened up, pressing their groins together, and gave him A Look. A Look Sanji had seen before, but hadn’t yet been able to decipher. “Let’s move to the bedroom.”
Sanji squeezed his ass, his smile widening at the man’s sharp intake of breath. “Sure.”
[--]
Zoro knew Sanji was sleeping with other people. The fact that “monogamous” wasn’t in the other man’s vocabulary was something he’d known from the beginning, and that hadn’t been a problem. In the beginning. He’d had his own lovers on the side-Johnny first, then Yosaku (it amused him to no end that they were shacking up now). But he hadn’t had anyone else in a long time. He didn’t want anyone else. It seemed that Sanji, however, still did.
“Dinner tonight?” Sanji asked as he buckled his belt.
“Yeah.” Zoro rolled onto his side to watch him get dressed. “I get paid today, so it doesn’t even have to be Burger King. It could be something as fancy as, uh, Johnny Rocket’s.”
Sanji snorted as he tugged on a shirt. “Tempting. But I’ve got plans with someone.”
“Oh.” Zoro felt his chest tighten, but he tried valiantly to ignore it.
“You should go out, too.”
He bit his tongue to keep from saying something that could possibly start a fight. He wasn’t in the mood for one. He turned back onto his stomach, burrowed his head in his pillow. He could feel Sanji’s eyes on him, but neither of them said anything until Sanji finished dressing.
“Hey,” he said, bending down to kiss Zoro’s head. “I’ll see you when I get home, okay?”
“Yeah,” Zoro mumbled, voice muffled. “Okay.”
Sanji kissed him again and Zoro thought there was something in that kiss that felt a little apologetic, but he couldn’t be too sure.
[--]
Sanji made all kinds of cakes and various pastries and desserts at Zeff’s bakery, but his specialty was wedding cakes. He sat across from two new potential customers-a tall, beautiful woman named Robin and her groom-to-be Franky-as they looked through a portfolio of previous masterpieces.
“These are gorgeous,” Robin said, and he grinned at the compliment. “We’d be honored to have one for our wedding.”
“Oh, no, Miss,” he assured her, reaching across the table to take her hand, “the honor is certainly all mine.”
Robin tittered. Franky coughed. Sanji released her hand only to take out a notepad and pen as he asked, “Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking?”
[--]
“What are you thinking?” Buggy knocked a cold can of beer against Zoro’s head a couple of times until he took it from him. “Sanji’s not the type to put a ring on it.”
Zoro scowled as he popped open the can and took a swig, almost hitting the side of Mihawk’s trailer as he tilted his head back. “I don’t want a ring. I just want…him.”
“How romantic,” the clown grimaced, sitting down beside him. “But you haven’t told him yet.”
“No.”
“Chicken.”
“You’re bugging me, Buggy.”
Buggy shrugged and drank. “You should just start seeing other people again. Meet someone better.”
“There is no one better.”
Buggy ignored this, continued. “Paula’s into you.”
Zoro pointed to the three gold earrings that hung from his left ear. “Gay.”
“Well, I’m sure your two fanboys would be open to a ménage a tr-”
“You’re bugging me, Buggy.”
“You’re both bugging me,” drawled a voice from the trailer window; Zoro and Buggy looked up into Mihawk’s vaguely annoyed-looking face. “Surely you two have something that resembles work that you can do,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
They chugged down their beers and stood, tossing the empty cans onto the ground as they walked away.
“The bossman wants you.”
“Shut up or I’ll rip that stupid nose off.”
[--]
Seven tiers, the pale blue color of a robin’s egg, decorated with pearls and delicate white roses-a cake just as elegant and exquisite as the bride-to-be herself. The groom’s cake-two feminine hands gripping a pair of balls beneath a half-erect penis-wasn’t the kind of cake Sanji made often, but he wasn’t too surprised when Franky requested it; the man looked rather eccentric.
He’d sketched the two cakes in his notepad as the couple described them; now he idly doodled on an empty page as Patty and Carne served them slices of various cakes for taste-testing.
“Which do you like best?” he heard Robin ask her fiancée softly.
“Beats me,” Franky shrugged, holding still as she wiped crumbs off his chin. “They all taste good.”
Sanji was briefly reminded of his live-in lover, who couldn’t tell pesto from marinara, but ate anything Sanji set in front of him. (Well, almost. Ironically enough, the man really didn’t have much of a sweet tooth.)
After a moment, Sanji stopped and looked at what he’d drawn. A three tiered green cake covered in intricate swirls and curlicues, dusted in powdered sugar, topped with a little Ferris wheel. He realized, with a bit of a start, that he’d just drawn what he imagined his and Zoro’s wedding cake might look like. Hastily, he turned to a blank page and waited for his heart to stop pounding.
His and Zoro’s wedding cake.
Where the hell had that come from?
[--]
As evening fell, Zoro found himself working the Ferris wheel. He watched as excited children pointed out sights to their parents, as strangers sat in silence or awkward small talk, as young couples held hands or played tonsil hockey.
“Hey, Zoro.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, assaulted by a sudden memory (only not so sudden, really, since it hit him almost every time he saw this particular ride).
“I want to give you something,” Sanji told him when they reached the top of the wheel.
“What?” he asked, hoping it wasn’t any more desserts; he could only stuff so much down Johnny and Yosaku’s throats before they exploded.
Sanji held a key out between them and it took Zoro a little longer than it should’ve to understand what that meant.
“I can’t keep up with your work hours,” Sanji explained, the corner of his mouth quirking upward in what might’ve been a halted smile and what might’ve been a nervous twitch. “And you’re always sleeping over and drooling on my pillows, anyway. You might as well-”
“Move in?”
“Something like that.” Sanji waited, arching an eyebrow as Zoro did nothing. “If you want it, you better take it before I decide to toss it.”
“I want it,” he said quickly, a little too quickly, and he ignored the faint tinge of red that spread across his nose as he accepted the key. “I, uh-thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Sanji said, voice quiet, and he leaned over to kiss him until the ride ended.
“Hey, Zoro.”
He opened his eyes and glanced down at the boy beside him. “Hey, Tony. Where’s your other half?”
“Up there,” Tony said, pointing to one of the cars near the top of the wheel. “With Vivi.”
Zoro squinted up at their car; it looked like Luffy was singing one of his silly spur-of-the-moment sings while Vivi watched and laughed. Zoro felt a sympathetic tug at his heartstrings. The girl had such a crush on him, though Zoro couldn’t imagine why. He doubted the boy had even realized when puberty hit; he probably thought a libido was a fancy type of sandwich.
Zoro shook his head, watching as Vivi thanked him for riding with her as they stepped out of their car.
“Huh? Sure, no problem!” Luffy shot her a toothy grin before sniffing at the air, taking Tony by the arm, and pulling him away with a cry of, “I smell meat!”
Vivi sighed and Zoro put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Love hurts, kid, and it doesn’t get any better. C’mon, I’ll win you a teddy bear or something.”
[--]
“Oi.” Zoro leaned back to avoid being hit with the foamy bath water Sanji flicked at him. “Knock it off.”
Sanji grinned, resting his arms on the sides of the tub and slinking further down into the bubbles. “Why aren’t you joining me?”
Zoro frowned into the mirror, ran a hand over his jaw, idly wondering if he’d need to shave soon. “I’m thinking.”
“Thinking of fucking me in the bathtub?” Sanji asked in his low Sultry Voice.
“…Well, I am now.”
Sanji chuckled, lifted a leg out of the water and wriggled his toes at him. “Come on.”
Zoro looked at his reflection a moment longer before turning to face the other man, arms crossed over his chest. “Can we talk first?”
“Absolutely,” Sanji said in false seriousness. “I’ll go first.” He cleared his throat, and then, “Zoro, I want you badly.”
Zoro swallowed, considered, and uncrossed his arms. “You win.”
Sanji laughed as Zoro, still fully clothed, stepped into the tub. He wrapped his legs around Zoro’s waist, peeling his shirt off, the action hindered as Zoro refused to stop nuzzling under his jaw.
“Love you,” he murmured against his slick skin.
Sanji smiled and moved his hands to cup Zoro’s face, lifting his head so he could kiss him. “I love you, too,” he whispered against his lips and rocked hard against him, making bubbles and water spill over the sides and onto the floor.
[--]
Zoro hated being the Bearded Woman.
He stood in front of the gaggle of mostly bored but occasionally entertained spectators, wearing a thankfully longish skirt, a bushy beard, and the most incredible rack any not-woman could ever have. He was trying not to look as angry as he felt; not only did he hate being the Bearded Woman, but Luffy had been by and taken a picture that he just knew was going to end up on Facebook. (He hated Facebook.)
“Kind of an ugly woman, ain’t she?” someone remarked, and Zoro rolled his eyes. Of course he was an ugly woman; even Marilyn Monroe would’ve looked less attractive with a beard.
“I don’t know what you mean,” said a familiar voice, heavily laced with amusement.
He tried not to glare too hard at Sanji, who was smirking around a cigarette, hands in his pockets. “I think she’s quite beautiful.”
Go away or I’ll kill you in your sleep, Zoro’s eyes promised.
“In fact,” Sanji continued grandly, his own eyes alight with mischief, ignoring Zoro’s silent vow and enjoying the attention of the other carnival visitors, “I think she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And I would like to marry her, so she will bear my bearded children.”
Had Zoro perhaps been in a better mood, this would’ve made him laugh, or at least crack a smile. But since he wasn’t in a better mood, this humorous non-proposal from the man he so desperately wanted to really be his served only to irk him even more.
“Whaddya say, gorgeous?” Sanji asked with a broad wink.
“You’re not my type, sir,” he deadpanned in a tone he knew the other man would understand.
Judging by the way he said nothing more-much to the crowd’s disappointment-he did understand. But he was waiting in the changing tent, chewing a piece of nicotine gum (which Zoro thought was pretty silly), when Zoro finished.
“PMS?” He asked, watching Zoro rip off his beard and toss it aside.
“Fuck you.”
“What?” Sanji took a faintly cautious step toward him as Zoro hastily disposed of his double-Ds. “I thought it was funny.”
“Yeah.” He took off his shirt and skirt and caught the jeans Sanji tossed to him. “It was hilarious.” The tent was filled with silence as he turned around and dressed, except for Sanji’s chewing. He zipped up his jeans and sighed, frowning at the ground. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m a little irritated today.”
“I couldn’t tell.” Sanji moved closer, reached out and rubbed soothingly at his shoulders. “Want me to make you feel better?”
Scowling, Zoro shrugged his hands off. “I don’t want to fuck.”
Sanji glared at his back; he hit him lightly so he’d turned around and the glare could be more effective. “That’s not all I do.”
Zoro glared back, snapped, “Really? Could’ve fooled me.”
Hurt flashed through Sanji’s eyes before anger completely overtook it. “I’ll talk to you later, when you’re not being an asshole.”
“Whatever,” Zoro muttered as Sanji left the tent in a huff.
He hated being the Bearded Woman.
[--]
They drove out to the beach one night; they parked the truck in the lot and made out while Sid Vicious’ “My Way” played on the radio. Zoro’s hands fumbled with his seatbelt as he responded to Sanji’s kisses, lips parted wide so the man’s demanding-devouring tongue could re-explore his mouth. He pulled away when he managed to get his seatbelt undone and took a deep, steadying breath before getting out.
Sanji followed him out onto the sand, inhaling salty sea air as he reached out to link their arms together. Zoro took comfort in the man’s touch, hopefully enough comfort to broach the subject he wanted to. “So…how was work?” (That wasn’t it.)
Sanji snickered. “I’m gonna make a penis cake.”
“Delicious.”
“Indeed. What about you?”
Zoro hesitated for a second, then shook his head. “I don’t wanna talk about work.”
“Okay.” Sanji eyed him as Zoro tugged at his arm, bringing him down to sit on the sand. “You started it, dummy.”
Zoro slid his arm free as he brought his knees up to his chest and frowned out at the dark waves of the water. “I wanna talk about…something else.”
“I’m listening.”
Zoro wrapped his arms around his knees and said nothing for a while. He had a bad, heavy feeling in his gut that this wasn’t going to go very well. Sanji lit a cigarette and didn’t prod, waiting patiently; perhaps he had a bad feeling as well.
Finally, he stretched his legs out in front of him, placing his hands on the sand, fingers digging into it as he started, “You know I’m not seeing anyone else.”
“Mmhm,” Sanji hummed in a Fuck-I-Know-What’s-Coming way.
“And I know that you are,” he continued slowly. “But I wanted to ask if you would-”
Sanji cut him off, quickly, and if Zoro hadn’t been so disappointed, he would’ve been grateful. “Zoro, I know what you’re going to ask. And I’m telling you, don’t do it, okay? You won’t like my answer.”
“Gotcha.” Zoro narrowed his eyes at the water, vaguely wishing the waves would come up and take him and drag him under.
“We’ve got a good thing, don’t we?” Sanji asked, scooting closer, fingers finding Zoro’s in the sand.
“Yeah,” he said.
And the subject was closed.