Fic Collab Chapter 8
*cheers* What is this? The Nature of Things? What the hell is that?
I'm very pleased to be posting this tonight. I've had it finished for a while, but I was thinking and wondering and fretting that it needed more, but... naw. I finally decided I like it the way it is. (Sanji/boy action FTW!!! \o/) I hope you like it too!
Title: The Nature Of Things
Authors: sinisterbug and stark_black
Rating: Big fat R to NC-17
Paring: Zoro/hookers/Zoro, Sanji/hookers, and eventually Zoro/Sanji/Zoro
Warnings: Yaoi, language, and general retarded-ness.
Summary: When the Sunny docks, Sanji and Zoro sometimes seek out relief in some not so savory places. After crossing paths in town on more than one occasion, the two find they have a lot more in common than they would like to admit.
In the evening, on the final day the Strawhats were scheduled to be docked at Moore Island, Sanji found himself smack in the middle of a minor crisis.
He had been unloading the last of the kitchen supplies, carrying and stacking the crates in the supply room, when a sack of potatoes had broken open and several of the brown, dirt-covered spuds had come spilling out. There was really no reason for this event to impact Sanji so deeply, but as the lumpy shapes rolled across the floor at his feet, the cook felt as if he was falling as well. He felt so out of control so suddenly, he had to fight off an inexplicable urge to scream. He set the crate down with a loud thump and moved to slam the door to the supply room shut.
Backing up in the darkness, the undersides of Sanji’s knees hit the stack of rice bags and he fell back clumsily to a seated position.
He thought about lighting up, but this was the one place on the ship he tried not to smoke. He didn’t want to contaminate the food or alter the taste. It was different then when he was cooking. The food was only exposed to it for a few minutes, but letting the smoke settle in the store room would be like marinating the supplies in burnt tobacco.
Therefore, sans-cigarette, Sanji sat in the pitch blackness, chewing the inside of his lip, hating that he had these stupid feelings and these stupid doubts and these stupid, stupid worries.
On how many islands had they made port now? Thirty? Fifty? He’d lost count. And on how many of those islands had he passed the time, or alleviated stress, in the arms of a prostitute? How many hookers had he propositioned? How many hookers had propositioned him? How many brothels had he visited? Why was this happening now? Why was this suddenly a problem?
Sanji had always been conscious of the darker side of a prostitute’s profession. He understood the dangers of it, the shame, the disrespect to the job. Sanji knew all those things and instead of weighing it against them, he revered them for it. It took a certain amount of courage to maintain what those women did every day, a strength that Sanji was sure he did not have. Holding the female form in such high regard, Sanji always treated women tenderly, and he had made it a point to treat prostitutes even more carefully. They performed a service, at great cost to themselves. They gave up what was held sacred in many religions and used it to make a living, and-in some cases-to survive.
Sanji had never taken a prostitute to bed thinking she was any less than any normal woman. He accepted service, and paid what was owed. He had never tried to cheat a prostitute out if anything and he liked to think that he never just took. He took, obviously, but he always tried to give just as much-if not more.
The male brothel had altered his perception of everything he had ever thought he had known. Seeing men do the exact thing that women did, putting themselves in the same situations… The whole thing had shaken Sanji to his core.
What those men probably had to go through to get where they were, Sanji could only imagine. Some of those prostitutes considered themselves lucky to be working in the brothel! How skewed of a perception was that, really? They were lucky to be working in a brothel? What the hell!?
Sanji put his palms to his temples and rubbed slow circles. His head hurt like he’d been hit with a train. He wanted nothing more than to go back to the brothel and tear the place down piece by piece. But what would that do? Nothing. The only thing that would accomplish would be destroying the one place those people were kept safe.
Sanji rubbed his forehead. His fingers dug into his flesh, kneading too hard to be trying to alleviate any real pain. Maybe he was trying to create more? Maybe his head didn’t hurt enough…
You can’t save them, Sanji. Some of them don’t want to be saved… can’t be saved…
Fuck.
And then there was Saul. Sanji saw so much of himself in the small, frail, hopeful cook that it made his heart ache. Saul really was what he himself could have been if it hadn’t been for a shitty old man, and a shitty island, and a goddamn, fucking, shitty dream he would never get out of his head.
Saul had the dream, he just didn’t have anyone to…
Suddenly, slammed with an inspiration, Sanji leapt to his feet. He burst out of the supply room, and flew through the kitchen. He threw open the cupboards above the stove and grabbed a set of keys he kept hidden beneath some cookbooks. The keys opened a cabinet below where he kept his personals. Once it was open, Sanji dove inside, searching.
A few minutes later, he pulled himself out of the cabinet and dusted himself off. He had found what he was looking for. He dropped the pile of black nylon on the counter, and turned to the sink for some hot water and a cloth. He toed open the drawer that held his knives, and grabbed a sharpening stone from one of the shelves.
Satisfied that he had everything he needed, he sat down at the table and got to work.
X x X x X
Clusterfuck. You put too many people under some sort of transformational or pressurized situation, and you get a clusterfuck. Ussop felt like the Strawhats had clustered quite a few fucks in their time, but they’d always been in it together. Managed to get through because, deep down, they were in this together and cared for each other. But if the participation was limited to two of the strongest members of the crew with the most beef with each other, two people that didn’t like each other enough, and the dynamics became less stable, the outcome less sure.
He’d been keeping a close eye on those two. Things were in constant transition with the Strawhats, so whatever was going on between Sanji and Zoro could have easily gone unnoticed. He’d come to understand too many details to want to share it with anyone else, or even dwell on it too much himself. He knew it involved lots of sex and prostitutes, but beyond that, he only had a hazy notion of what was going on. He had ideas, oh yes, he had ideas. But he’d die a thousand deaths before he uttered any of that out loud without some sort of confirmation first.
He watched Sanji rush out of the kitchen and holler that he’d be back soon before taking off into the town. It took only a second for the hairs on the back of Ussop’s neck to prickle. He didn’t need to turn around to know Zoro must have heard that. And very shortly afterwards, Zoro emerged from the crow’s nest, looking very intently in the direction Sanji’s went. Instead of following, however, Zoro returned to the crow’s nest, probably to resume training.
Ussop sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. This was taking its sweet time to resolve itself.
X x X x X
Sanji pounded on the door, his heart hammering against his rib cage. He had run all the way here, nearly missing the street. The place was actually a lot harder to get to than he remembered.
The small slit opened for him to slide the membership coin through and Sanji cursed inwardly. He didn’t have a coin this time.
“I don’t have a membership, man. My name’s Sanji, I was here a few days ago with my crewmate, Zoro.”
The slide slapped shut in his face. Sanji bristled. He hadn’t taken this into account when he had made his hasty plans. He pounded on the door again.
“Oi! Asshole! I just need five minutes! My ship’s taking off in like an hour, and I need to talk to one of your staff!”
The slide opened and a deep voice rumbled from inside. “No admittance without a membership, or invitation.”
Sanji ground his teeth together. “Listen. Breaking down this door would be the easiest fucking thing in the world for me. But you guys have been very hospitable so I don’t want to do that.”
The eyes that peered out at Sanji narrowed in suspicion.
“Look,” Sanji sighed. “Just get Christian. He’ll vouch for me.”
“And if I can’t find Christian?”
“Then get Roman!” Sanji roared. “Or Wolf! Or the tall dude with the tats and red hair! Just GO!”
The slit slapped shut again, and Sanji whirled on his heel with an angry huff. He leaned against the door, giving the passersby a look that clearly meant “mind your own damn business”. He lit a cigarette to give his hands something to do. He waited for perhaps a minute and a half before he heard the distinct sound of arguing. He pushed off the door and turned back around, his excitement mounting.
“…what I’m saying! And no! You don’t just turn someone away who knows people inside by name! What are you, a fucking retard?”
Sanji smirked. It was Christian.
The door opened and Christian leaned against the heavy wood. He was wearing nothing but a floral patterned robe, and his hair was wet.
“Hi Sanji.” His smile was impish.
“Wow,” Sanji slouched lazily, pulling smoke into his lungs, “he got you out of the shower for me?”
Christian rolled his eyes. “No, Yuki got me out of the shower. He saw you from the window.”
Sanji looked up, seeing several familiar faces smiling down at him. They waved. He rolled his eyes and waved back.
He turned back to the blond in front of him. “I need to see Saul.”
Christian’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh really?”
Sanji made a face. “Don’t give me shit. I’m not in the mood for games right now. Can I just come in please? I have something for him.”
“Damn, not even a companion and he’s getting gifts.” Christian stepped forward, taking the cigarette from Sanji’s fingers. “He must have treated you real good.”
Sanji growled.
Christian smiled. He puffed on the cigarette slowly, turning his head but not his eyes to exhale. “What do I get for letting you in?”
Sanji fixed the other blond with a hard stare. He raised his hand, plucked the last of the cigarette from the prostitute’s fingers, and placed it back in his mouth. He sucked the last of the smoke through the filter and tossed the butt on the ground. Christian didn’t have time to say anything before Sanji put a hand on his chest and pushed him back against the wall. The cook slid that hand up Christian’s collar, over his neck, and back around to tangle his fingers in his hair. Christian gasped and went a limp as Sanji pulled hard, tilting the thinner man’s head back.
Ghosting his lips over Christian’s jaw, Sanji breathed against his damp skin. “Just be happy that I won’t kick your ass.”
He was lying of course, completely and totally full of it. He couldn’t be serious about something like that, not after all his musings not a half hour ago. Christian didn’t seem to care one way or the other, however, and made a low noise in the back of his throat before he murmured, “Okay, fine…” When Sanji pulled away, the prostitute opened his eyes slowly and took a deep, shuddering breath.
“Shit… no wonder…” he straightened, but still leaned against the wall. “You’re sexy as hell, Sanji. After you’re done talking to Saul, you want me to suck your dick? Free of charge.”
Sanji shook his head. “No thanks. Just tell me where Saul is.”
Christian sighed and motioned with his head. “He’s working on one of the sinks in the kitchen.”
Sanji turned and stepped through the door. He smiled condescendingly at the wide-eyed door guard, and moved through the foyer.
“Are you sure you don’t want a quickie before you go?” Christian called after him. “It’d be awesome. Like having sex with yourself.”
“Not interested.” Sanji replied, and turned down the hall.
The cook remembered this place well enough, but he wasn’t completely confident about the exact turns he needed to take to get to the kitchen. Fortunately he found the gardens and he knew the way from there.
When he opened the swinging doors, he came face to face with a scene that both excited and pleased him.
The smells of simmering meats and sautéing vegetables hit him as he watched the cooks working around each other in practiced clockwork. It was all the same people: Link stood stirring something in a large pot, the twins were tasting something from a pan and speaking adamantly amongst themselves.
Tristin saw him first.
“Sanji!”
It was chaos for a few minutes. Miles and the cooks surrounded Sanji, greeting him happily, teasing, asking him if he was going to stay for dinner.
“I’d love to,” Sanji smiled, “I really would, but I’m actually here to talk to Saul.”
Several eyes opened wide and Tristin clicked his tongue. “Really?” the white-haired cook grinned slyly. It was so reminiscent of Christian that Sanji almost laughed out loud.
“Hey, Saul!” Link barked. “Where’d you go?”
Saul’s soft voice came from behind a dish rack. “I’m… here.”
The cooks chuckled and Sanji moved through the kitchen. He found Saul standing behind the rack, holding a bag of tools to his chest like a lifeline.
Saul’s hair was mostly covered by a wrap, but a few soft tresses had escaped and spilled gently over the line of his shoulders. He wore a pair of dark woman’s jeans, and light blue t-shirt. He looked so much like a girl it was mindboggling.
Sanji leaned against a prep table, slipping his free hand into his pocket. The package he carried was tucked underneath his arm and it didn’t hinder his movements when he pulled a smoke from his pack and placed it unlit between his lips.
Saul stood shocked, frightened. “What are… what are you doing here?”
The man’s face still had remnants of the makeup from the night before. Smokey greys and silvers rimmed those deep brown eyes. Mascara thickened those long eyelashes.
Sanji moved the cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other. “Should I not be here?”
Saul opened his mouth and then closed it. His eyes were still frightened.
“It’s okay…” Sanji said softly.
Saul looked at him then. He swallowed. “I… I can’t think of any reason why you would be here… that isn’t bad.”
Sanji smiled at that. “Don’t be silly, I have something for you.”
A chorus of gasps and muffled giggles rang through the kitchen.
Saul’s shock tripled. “What!?” he cried. “For... for… w-why?”
“Holy shit, Saul!” one of the twins called, “You are so spilling everything after he leaves!”
“We need details!” Link laughed.
Sanji rolled his eyes and watched the blush spread across Saul’s face. The look was very endearing, and revived that sense of power Sanji had felt before.
“Come on, Princess!” Tristin said excitedly, “let’s see what he got you!”
Saul opened his mouth and closed it again. Apparently, he had forgotten how to speak.
Miles came to the rescue. “Saul, why don’t you take Sanji to one of the private rooms down the hall? You can open your gift there and none of these guys will bother you.”
Saul looked at Miles. “But, I haven’t finished the sink yet.”
“Holy fucking mother of GOD!” The twins shouted at the same time. “Just go! You’re killing us!”
Saul thanked Miles and led Sanji out of the kitchen. The blond turned and waved to the other cooks before he slipped through the door and followed the smaller man down the hall. Saul pulled the wrap from his head, and mutely led Sanji to a dimly lit room set up like a small lounge. A few lavish couches, a desk, and a polished coffee table filled the small space. A few rows of low book cases leaned against the wall, and fresh flowers sat in vases around the room. Once inside, Saul closed the door and ran his hands nervously over his hair.
Sanji laid the package on the desk and pulled a small envelope from beneath the string. He turned around, and held the envelope out to Saul.
“Okay, I lied,” Sanji started, “I got you two things.”
Saul’s eyes widened again but he took the envelope from Sanji’s hand. “What is this?”
Sanji felt his stomach start tying into knots. His heartbeat stayed steady and slow, but he could feel it slamming against his ribcage.
“That… is a letter from me. It’s like a, uh…” he rubbed at the back of his neck. “It’s like a letter of recommendation.”
Saul froze. “E… exc… w-what?” his voice was so soft.
“It’s just a letter from me saying that I’ve tasted your cooking, and that I think you’re really talented, and that it would be stupid not to hire you. Even without the formal training.” Sanji’s lips itched for that cigarette he had just put away. “Of course it says all that in a much more formal, professional way, but that’s what it says.”
Saul’s eyes were huge, his pretty face an almost comical display of complete and utter shock. He gripped the envelope in his fingers like it was the most important thing on earth.
Sanji cleared his throat. Why was his mouth suddenly so dry? “Obviously you should start here, work with Miles and train with some people that already know you, and like you. But then after you’ve got some experience under your belt, go out and get yourself a job at some fancy place. Blow ‘em away with your creativity.”
Saul looked down at the letter, then back up at Sanji, and then back down at the letter again. He covered his mouth with his hand, and pressed the envelope to his chest. Tears spilled from his eyes and over his fingers. Sanji’s heart started pounding faster.
“It’s not…” Sanji almost tripped over his words. “You don’t have to cry, it’s not that… it’s not worth getting hysterical over.”
“Yes it is…” Saul sniffed, trying to calm down.
Sanji tore his eyes away from the man who was so pretty it was distracting. He placed a hand on the package and swallowed.
“This uh… this is what I was talking about. I um…” Sanji finally gave in and slipped a hand in his pocket for his cigarettes.
“Just open it.”
He backed away and lit up. Saul moved forward, setting the letter down carefully on the desk. He moved to untie the string holding the paper. When he pulled it loose and peeled the paper away, he made a small noise in the back of his throat. He stood frozen, staring down at his gift, his breathing heavy and punctuated.
Sanji blew out a thin stream of smoke and moved to stand beside him. He reached out a hand and unrolled the knife kit. Inside were six knives. They were all backups, but still in excellent condition. Sanji had been collecting for several years and had many copies of the same ones back on the ship. He would not miss them.
To Saul, however, a person with little money and no connections, it was as if Sanji had just given him the moon. Knives like these would have been absolutely impossible for Saul to buy himself.
“You should only have to sharpen them every six months. It depends on what you cut, and how often. There’s a stone in the pocket right there, and oil in this one right here if you have to store them.”
Saul was shaking, tears streaming down his face. He ran his fingers over the handle of the chef’s knife, trailed his thumb over the stitching of the nylon kit. He inhaled sharply and turned to face Sanji directly. His body was so close, but his watery eyes stared at Sanji’s chest.
“Why are you doing this for me?” he whispered.
Sanji snuffed out his cigarette and slipped it into his pocket. He pushed a lock of hair out of Saul’s face and tucked it behind his ear.
“I want to see you succeed,” he said softly. “You have potential that I can’t let go to waste. I couldn’t leave this island knowing that I could have helped you, like the shitty old man helped me… and didn’t. I couldn’t live with that.”
Saul’s lip trembled, and his eyes slowly slid up to meet Sanji’s. He sniffed and reached out a hand to Sanji’s jaw. Sanji didn’t move away. He didn’t flinch. He just watched those brown eyes as the younger man touched him.
“I have no way to thank you…”
Sanji shook his head. “You already have. You’ve taught me a lot.”
Saul brought his other hand to Sanji’s jaw. He cupped the taller man’s face in his palms, his gentle touch sending pleasant shivers up and down Sanji’s spine.
“If I had anything to give you, I would.” Saul’s voice was so soft, it was barely a whisper. “Anything you wanted…”
Sanji let his hands move to Saul’s slender hips. They seemed to want to be there.
Saul searched Sanji’s face, desperately looking for something. Tears pooled and fell from his eyes again. His body trembled.
“Do I have anything you want, Sanji?”
Sanji knew that he did. Saul had many things that Sanji wanted. He was just too much of a coward to admit it out loud. He wasn’t ready to take that step. He wasn’t ready to let himself go.
“Sanji…” The desperation in Saul’s voice broke Sanji’s heart.
Fuck it, who’s gonna know?
Sanji leaned in and pressed his mouth to Saul’s. The smaller man inhaled sharply, immediately wrapping his arms around Sanji’s neck. Saul clung desperately, opened for him so sweetly. He moaned as Sanji slid his tongue past his lips, arched as Sanji pulled his body in closer.
It was just like kissing a girl, Sanji wasn’t going to lie to himself. And the fact that Saul was a man, a man that was submitting himself so easily and so freely to Sanji’s will, sent the cook on a crushing power trip. Fuck what people thought, fuck the social stigmas, fuck Zoro, fuck the brothel, fuck everything. He wanted Saul. He wanted this man. It was crazy, it made no sense, but it was just how it fucking was.
Sanji admitted to himself that he had been attracted to Saul since Christian had brought him to the tiny room upstairs days ago. Sanji had been pulled in by that sweetness and that innocence Saul had seemed to retain even after everything he had to go through. Sanji had been charmed by Saul’s obvious attraction to him; his unrestrained admiration.
Sanji broke the kiss and backed Saul into one of the low shelves. They slammed into the wood together, jarring books and sending a few toppling to the floor. Saul panted heavily against Sanji’s mouth, his dark eyes clouded with arousal. Sanji felt that tremble of power, that primal sense of dominance flow through him as he lifted the smaller man to sit on the shelf. He pushed in between Saul’s thighs and brought his lips to Saul’s neck. He laid open-mouth kisses along a pulse that was threading almost too fast. He moved his hands, sliding them up a skinny, yet toned stomach. He spread his palms over a flat chest, unfamiliar territory, but Sanji found out quickly that men and women reacted pretty much the same when their nipples were teased.
He felt hands at his belt and shifted his stance to accommodate. Saul undid his pants and slipped his hand inside so fast that Sanji was struck momentarily dumbfounded. He let out a harsh breath at the first perfect stroke on his cock. He growled deep in his throat and dove into Saul’s mouth as the smaller man started to pump him with quick, precise movements.
He was so engrossed in the feel of a man’s knowing hands on him and the unmistakable scratch of stubble, however faint, on Saul’s slender neck, that it took Sanji a minute to realize that Saul was using his other hand to jerk himself off too. As good as the hand on him felt, Sanji was still intrigued, and looked down to watch as the prostitute’s fists moved over both their erections. This was something Sanji had never experienced before. Yes, he had shared women with Zoro a few times, and parts of the swordsman had been perilously close to certain parts of Sanji, but it had never been like this. Saul’s cock was long and lean, just like his body. The skin of his head was flushed pink, the same shade as Sanji’s. Besides the slight size difference, the two erections were almost identical. It wasn’t so bad.
Placing his hands on the wall on either side of Saul’s shoulders, Sanji braced himself. Saul’s hands seemed to know just how to pull, just how hard to squeeze. Sanji breathed deep, grinding his hips forward. The edges of the book case scraped against the floor, rattled against the wall. Saul gasped and slid down farther, bring their bodies closer. His legs wrapped around Sanji’s thighs, his hands started shifting, reaching, sliding around both-oh… oh… OH…
This… this was also new. This was very good. Mind-blowingly good. Saul’s hands had wrapped around both of their lengths and he was now stroking them together. The feel of another cock against his was strange to Sanji, but oh god oh god it was good! He watched Saul’s hands, watched two cockheads instead of one be jerked and pumped and beaten mercilessly against each other and he moaned. A rich sound from deep inside himself, a guttural, instinctual growl that had Saul’s legs trembling, his head falling back.
“Do you like this?” Saul panted.
Sanji looked up and met his half-lidded eyes. “Yeah… yeah I do…”
He wasn’t sure if it was the way Saul was looking at him then, or if it was just something that his body needed to do, but Sanji’s hand left the wall and slid over Saul’s. He slowed the frantic movements and slipped his fingers underneath the thinner man’s.
“Oh-” Saul choked, “Oh, wait… wait I can’t…”
“What?” Sanji grinned. “You can’t handle it if I touch you?”
Saul gripped the edges of the shelf. His eyes squeezed shut as Sanji started to pump them both together, mimicking the way Saul had been doing it moments ago.
“Y-yes,” Saul cried. His head slammed against the wall as he arched. “Yes!”
Sanji’s ego knew no bounds.
Repositioning his fingers, Sanji started to get the feel of it. Sanji’s hands were bigger; they were stronger. He was able to get their lengths in a better grip and jerk them together at a steadier, more powerful pace. Saul started to keen, almost wail in a sexy tenor that had tremors shooting through Sanji’s body. He felt the tension coiling in his loins. He felt the first pulses of Saul’s orgasm, that last bit of tension rip through his body before he stilled and came. He spurted in thin streams over his shirt, some hitting his chest and even his neck. He gasped frantically for air, clung to the shelf, squeezed Sanji’s thighs with his legs.
“Oh god… oh my god…”
It was powerful, so fucking powerful. Sanji felt drunk. He felt like a god. He felt himself coming. He leaned in, pumping furiously, panting into Saul’s ear, running his lips down the other man’s jaw. Tension released, pleasure exploded. Sanji grunted once and let out a sharp breath. He pulsed in his hand, spurting semen over Saul’s stomach. His anxiety left him, replaced with a bone weariness and easy contentment.
Saul kissed his neck, trailed his lips up Sanji’s jaw to his cheeks, his forehead. He pulled off his shirt and cleaned them both. Sanji tucked himself back in, settling his hands on the self’s top on either side of Saul’s hips. He kissed the smaller man slowly, savoring his sweet taste and his soft lips. He felt Saul’s fingers on his cheeks. They were no longer trembling.
When Sanji’s pulled away, he did it gently. “I have to go now,” he murmured..
Saul nodded and smiled tiredly. “Will I ever see you again?”
Sanji shrugged. “I wouldn’t doubt it.”
Saul brushed blond bangs from Sanji’s eyes.
Sanji shivered. “Stop selling yourself, okay? Do that for me.”
Saul’s eyes filled again, but he nodded and he smiled. “I promise.”
Sanji kissed him once more before he turned and moved across the room to open the door. Saul’s voice stopped him as he opened it, and he turned back around.
“Sanji?”
“Mm?”
Saul’s eyes were sill watery, but his face and his body were playful. He tilted his head to the side and smiled sweetly.
“Don’t forget me.”
Sanji grinned. “I couldn’t. You never forget your first.”
He left.
TBC
Previous chapters here.
xD
I'm very pleased to be posting this tonight. I've had it finished for a while, but I was thinking and wondering and fretting that it needed more, but... naw. I finally decided I like it the way it is. (Sanji/boy action FTW!!! \o/) I hope you like it too!
Title: The Nature Of Things
Authors: sinisterbug and stark_black
Rating: Big fat R to NC-17
Paring: Zoro/hookers/Zoro, Sanji/hookers, and eventually Zoro/Sanji/Zoro
Warnings: Yaoi, language, and general retarded-ness.
Summary: When the Sunny docks, Sanji and Zoro sometimes seek out relief in some not so savory places. After crossing paths in town on more than one occasion, the two find they have a lot more in common than they would like to admit.
In the evening, on the final day the Strawhats were scheduled to be docked at Moore Island, Sanji found himself smack in the middle of a minor crisis.
He had been unloading the last of the kitchen supplies, carrying and stacking the crates in the supply room, when a sack of potatoes had broken open and several of the brown, dirt-covered spuds had come spilling out. There was really no reason for this event to impact Sanji so deeply, but as the lumpy shapes rolled across the floor at his feet, the cook felt as if he was falling as well. He felt so out of control so suddenly, he had to fight off an inexplicable urge to scream. He set the crate down with a loud thump and moved to slam the door to the supply room shut.
Backing up in the darkness, the undersides of Sanji’s knees hit the stack of rice bags and he fell back clumsily to a seated position.
He thought about lighting up, but this was the one place on the ship he tried not to smoke. He didn’t want to contaminate the food or alter the taste. It was different then when he was cooking. The food was only exposed to it for a few minutes, but letting the smoke settle in the store room would be like marinating the supplies in burnt tobacco.
Therefore, sans-cigarette, Sanji sat in the pitch blackness, chewing the inside of his lip, hating that he had these stupid feelings and these stupid doubts and these stupid, stupid worries.
On how many islands had they made port now? Thirty? Fifty? He’d lost count. And on how many of those islands had he passed the time, or alleviated stress, in the arms of a prostitute? How many hookers had he propositioned? How many hookers had propositioned him? How many brothels had he visited? Why was this happening now? Why was this suddenly a problem?
Sanji had always been conscious of the darker side of a prostitute’s profession. He understood the dangers of it, the shame, the disrespect to the job. Sanji knew all those things and instead of weighing it against them, he revered them for it. It took a certain amount of courage to maintain what those women did every day, a strength that Sanji was sure he did not have. Holding the female form in such high regard, Sanji always treated women tenderly, and he had made it a point to treat prostitutes even more carefully. They performed a service, at great cost to themselves. They gave up what was held sacred in many religions and used it to make a living, and-in some cases-to survive.
Sanji had never taken a prostitute to bed thinking she was any less than any normal woman. He accepted service, and paid what was owed. He had never tried to cheat a prostitute out if anything and he liked to think that he never just took. He took, obviously, but he always tried to give just as much-if not more.
The male brothel had altered his perception of everything he had ever thought he had known. Seeing men do the exact thing that women did, putting themselves in the same situations… The whole thing had shaken Sanji to his core.
What those men probably had to go through to get where they were, Sanji could only imagine. Some of those prostitutes considered themselves lucky to be working in the brothel! How skewed of a perception was that, really? They were lucky to be working in a brothel? What the hell!?
Sanji put his palms to his temples and rubbed slow circles. His head hurt like he’d been hit with a train. He wanted nothing more than to go back to the brothel and tear the place down piece by piece. But what would that do? Nothing. The only thing that would accomplish would be destroying the one place those people were kept safe.
Sanji rubbed his forehead. His fingers dug into his flesh, kneading too hard to be trying to alleviate any real pain. Maybe he was trying to create more? Maybe his head didn’t hurt enough…
You can’t save them, Sanji. Some of them don’t want to be saved… can’t be saved…
Fuck.
And then there was Saul. Sanji saw so much of himself in the small, frail, hopeful cook that it made his heart ache. Saul really was what he himself could have been if it hadn’t been for a shitty old man, and a shitty island, and a goddamn, fucking, shitty dream he would never get out of his head.
Saul had the dream, he just didn’t have anyone to…
Suddenly, slammed with an inspiration, Sanji leapt to his feet. He burst out of the supply room, and flew through the kitchen. He threw open the cupboards above the stove and grabbed a set of keys he kept hidden beneath some cookbooks. The keys opened a cabinet below where he kept his personals. Once it was open, Sanji dove inside, searching.
A few minutes later, he pulled himself out of the cabinet and dusted himself off. He had found what he was looking for. He dropped the pile of black nylon on the counter, and turned to the sink for some hot water and a cloth. He toed open the drawer that held his knives, and grabbed a sharpening stone from one of the shelves.
Satisfied that he had everything he needed, he sat down at the table and got to work.
X x X x X
Clusterfuck. You put too many people under some sort of transformational or pressurized situation, and you get a clusterfuck. Ussop felt like the Strawhats had clustered quite a few fucks in their time, but they’d always been in it together. Managed to get through because, deep down, they were in this together and cared for each other. But if the participation was limited to two of the strongest members of the crew with the most beef with each other, two people that didn’t like each other enough, and the dynamics became less stable, the outcome less sure.
He’d been keeping a close eye on those two. Things were in constant transition with the Strawhats, so whatever was going on between Sanji and Zoro could have easily gone unnoticed. He’d come to understand too many details to want to share it with anyone else, or even dwell on it too much himself. He knew it involved lots of sex and prostitutes, but beyond that, he only had a hazy notion of what was going on. He had ideas, oh yes, he had ideas. But he’d die a thousand deaths before he uttered any of that out loud without some sort of confirmation first.
He watched Sanji rush out of the kitchen and holler that he’d be back soon before taking off into the town. It took only a second for the hairs on the back of Ussop’s neck to prickle. He didn’t need to turn around to know Zoro must have heard that. And very shortly afterwards, Zoro emerged from the crow’s nest, looking very intently in the direction Sanji’s went. Instead of following, however, Zoro returned to the crow’s nest, probably to resume training.
Ussop sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. This was taking its sweet time to resolve itself.
X x X x X
Sanji pounded on the door, his heart hammering against his rib cage. He had run all the way here, nearly missing the street. The place was actually a lot harder to get to than he remembered.
The small slit opened for him to slide the membership coin through and Sanji cursed inwardly. He didn’t have a coin this time.
“I don’t have a membership, man. My name’s Sanji, I was here a few days ago with my crewmate, Zoro.”
The slide slapped shut in his face. Sanji bristled. He hadn’t taken this into account when he had made his hasty plans. He pounded on the door again.
“Oi! Asshole! I just need five minutes! My ship’s taking off in like an hour, and I need to talk to one of your staff!”
The slide opened and a deep voice rumbled from inside. “No admittance without a membership, or invitation.”
Sanji ground his teeth together. “Listen. Breaking down this door would be the easiest fucking thing in the world for me. But you guys have been very hospitable so I don’t want to do that.”
The eyes that peered out at Sanji narrowed in suspicion.
“Look,” Sanji sighed. “Just get Christian. He’ll vouch for me.”
“And if I can’t find Christian?”
“Then get Roman!” Sanji roared. “Or Wolf! Or the tall dude with the tats and red hair! Just GO!”
The slit slapped shut again, and Sanji whirled on his heel with an angry huff. He leaned against the door, giving the passersby a look that clearly meant “mind your own damn business”. He lit a cigarette to give his hands something to do. He waited for perhaps a minute and a half before he heard the distinct sound of arguing. He pushed off the door and turned back around, his excitement mounting.
“…what I’m saying! And no! You don’t just turn someone away who knows people inside by name! What are you, a fucking retard?”
Sanji smirked. It was Christian.
The door opened and Christian leaned against the heavy wood. He was wearing nothing but a floral patterned robe, and his hair was wet.
“Hi Sanji.” His smile was impish.
“Wow,” Sanji slouched lazily, pulling smoke into his lungs, “he got you out of the shower for me?”
Christian rolled his eyes. “No, Yuki got me out of the shower. He saw you from the window.”
Sanji looked up, seeing several familiar faces smiling down at him. They waved. He rolled his eyes and waved back.
He turned back to the blond in front of him. “I need to see Saul.”
Christian’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh really?”
Sanji made a face. “Don’t give me shit. I’m not in the mood for games right now. Can I just come in please? I have something for him.”
“Damn, not even a companion and he’s getting gifts.” Christian stepped forward, taking the cigarette from Sanji’s fingers. “He must have treated you real good.”
Sanji growled.
Christian smiled. He puffed on the cigarette slowly, turning his head but not his eyes to exhale. “What do I get for letting you in?”
Sanji fixed the other blond with a hard stare. He raised his hand, plucked the last of the cigarette from the prostitute’s fingers, and placed it back in his mouth. He sucked the last of the smoke through the filter and tossed the butt on the ground. Christian didn’t have time to say anything before Sanji put a hand on his chest and pushed him back against the wall. The cook slid that hand up Christian’s collar, over his neck, and back around to tangle his fingers in his hair. Christian gasped and went a limp as Sanji pulled hard, tilting the thinner man’s head back.
Ghosting his lips over Christian’s jaw, Sanji breathed against his damp skin. “Just be happy that I won’t kick your ass.”
He was lying of course, completely and totally full of it. He couldn’t be serious about something like that, not after all his musings not a half hour ago. Christian didn’t seem to care one way or the other, however, and made a low noise in the back of his throat before he murmured, “Okay, fine…” When Sanji pulled away, the prostitute opened his eyes slowly and took a deep, shuddering breath.
“Shit… no wonder…” he straightened, but still leaned against the wall. “You’re sexy as hell, Sanji. After you’re done talking to Saul, you want me to suck your dick? Free of charge.”
Sanji shook his head. “No thanks. Just tell me where Saul is.”
Christian sighed and motioned with his head. “He’s working on one of the sinks in the kitchen.”
Sanji turned and stepped through the door. He smiled condescendingly at the wide-eyed door guard, and moved through the foyer.
“Are you sure you don’t want a quickie before you go?” Christian called after him. “It’d be awesome. Like having sex with yourself.”
“Not interested.” Sanji replied, and turned down the hall.
The cook remembered this place well enough, but he wasn’t completely confident about the exact turns he needed to take to get to the kitchen. Fortunately he found the gardens and he knew the way from there.
When he opened the swinging doors, he came face to face with a scene that both excited and pleased him.
The smells of simmering meats and sautéing vegetables hit him as he watched the cooks working around each other in practiced clockwork. It was all the same people: Link stood stirring something in a large pot, the twins were tasting something from a pan and speaking adamantly amongst themselves.
Tristin saw him first.
“Sanji!”
It was chaos for a few minutes. Miles and the cooks surrounded Sanji, greeting him happily, teasing, asking him if he was going to stay for dinner.
“I’d love to,” Sanji smiled, “I really would, but I’m actually here to talk to Saul.”
Several eyes opened wide and Tristin clicked his tongue. “Really?” the white-haired cook grinned slyly. It was so reminiscent of Christian that Sanji almost laughed out loud.
“Hey, Saul!” Link barked. “Where’d you go?”
Saul’s soft voice came from behind a dish rack. “I’m… here.”
The cooks chuckled and Sanji moved through the kitchen. He found Saul standing behind the rack, holding a bag of tools to his chest like a lifeline.
Saul’s hair was mostly covered by a wrap, but a few soft tresses had escaped and spilled gently over the line of his shoulders. He wore a pair of dark woman’s jeans, and light blue t-shirt. He looked so much like a girl it was mindboggling.
Sanji leaned against a prep table, slipping his free hand into his pocket. The package he carried was tucked underneath his arm and it didn’t hinder his movements when he pulled a smoke from his pack and placed it unlit between his lips.
Saul stood shocked, frightened. “What are… what are you doing here?”
The man’s face still had remnants of the makeup from the night before. Smokey greys and silvers rimmed those deep brown eyes. Mascara thickened those long eyelashes.
Sanji moved the cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other. “Should I not be here?”
Saul opened his mouth and then closed it. His eyes were still frightened.
“It’s okay…” Sanji said softly.
Saul looked at him then. He swallowed. “I… I can’t think of any reason why you would be here… that isn’t bad.”
Sanji smiled at that. “Don’t be silly, I have something for you.”
A chorus of gasps and muffled giggles rang through the kitchen.
Saul’s shock tripled. “What!?” he cried. “For... for… w-why?”
“Holy shit, Saul!” one of the twins called, “You are so spilling everything after he leaves!”
“We need details!” Link laughed.
Sanji rolled his eyes and watched the blush spread across Saul’s face. The look was very endearing, and revived that sense of power Sanji had felt before.
“Come on, Princess!” Tristin said excitedly, “let’s see what he got you!”
Saul opened his mouth and closed it again. Apparently, he had forgotten how to speak.
Miles came to the rescue. “Saul, why don’t you take Sanji to one of the private rooms down the hall? You can open your gift there and none of these guys will bother you.”
Saul looked at Miles. “But, I haven’t finished the sink yet.”
“Holy fucking mother of GOD!” The twins shouted at the same time. “Just go! You’re killing us!”
Saul thanked Miles and led Sanji out of the kitchen. The blond turned and waved to the other cooks before he slipped through the door and followed the smaller man down the hall. Saul pulled the wrap from his head, and mutely led Sanji to a dimly lit room set up like a small lounge. A few lavish couches, a desk, and a polished coffee table filled the small space. A few rows of low book cases leaned against the wall, and fresh flowers sat in vases around the room. Once inside, Saul closed the door and ran his hands nervously over his hair.
Sanji laid the package on the desk and pulled a small envelope from beneath the string. He turned around, and held the envelope out to Saul.
“Okay, I lied,” Sanji started, “I got you two things.”
Saul’s eyes widened again but he took the envelope from Sanji’s hand. “What is this?”
Sanji felt his stomach start tying into knots. His heartbeat stayed steady and slow, but he could feel it slamming against his ribcage.
“That… is a letter from me. It’s like a, uh…” he rubbed at the back of his neck. “It’s like a letter of recommendation.”
Saul froze. “E… exc… w-what?” his voice was so soft.
“It’s just a letter from me saying that I’ve tasted your cooking, and that I think you’re really talented, and that it would be stupid not to hire you. Even without the formal training.” Sanji’s lips itched for that cigarette he had just put away. “Of course it says all that in a much more formal, professional way, but that’s what it says.”
Saul’s eyes were huge, his pretty face an almost comical display of complete and utter shock. He gripped the envelope in his fingers like it was the most important thing on earth.
Sanji cleared his throat. Why was his mouth suddenly so dry? “Obviously you should start here, work with Miles and train with some people that already know you, and like you. But then after you’ve got some experience under your belt, go out and get yourself a job at some fancy place. Blow ‘em away with your creativity.”
Saul looked down at the letter, then back up at Sanji, and then back down at the letter again. He covered his mouth with his hand, and pressed the envelope to his chest. Tears spilled from his eyes and over his fingers. Sanji’s heart started pounding faster.
“It’s not…” Sanji almost tripped over his words. “You don’t have to cry, it’s not that… it’s not worth getting hysterical over.”
“Yes it is…” Saul sniffed, trying to calm down.
Sanji tore his eyes away from the man who was so pretty it was distracting. He placed a hand on the package and swallowed.
“This uh… this is what I was talking about. I um…” Sanji finally gave in and slipped a hand in his pocket for his cigarettes.
“Just open it.”
He backed away and lit up. Saul moved forward, setting the letter down carefully on the desk. He moved to untie the string holding the paper. When he pulled it loose and peeled the paper away, he made a small noise in the back of his throat. He stood frozen, staring down at his gift, his breathing heavy and punctuated.
Sanji blew out a thin stream of smoke and moved to stand beside him. He reached out a hand and unrolled the knife kit. Inside were six knives. They were all backups, but still in excellent condition. Sanji had been collecting for several years and had many copies of the same ones back on the ship. He would not miss them.
To Saul, however, a person with little money and no connections, it was as if Sanji had just given him the moon. Knives like these would have been absolutely impossible for Saul to buy himself.
“You should only have to sharpen them every six months. It depends on what you cut, and how often. There’s a stone in the pocket right there, and oil in this one right here if you have to store them.”
Saul was shaking, tears streaming down his face. He ran his fingers over the handle of the chef’s knife, trailed his thumb over the stitching of the nylon kit. He inhaled sharply and turned to face Sanji directly. His body was so close, but his watery eyes stared at Sanji’s chest.
“Why are you doing this for me?” he whispered.
Sanji snuffed out his cigarette and slipped it into his pocket. He pushed a lock of hair out of Saul’s face and tucked it behind his ear.
“I want to see you succeed,” he said softly. “You have potential that I can’t let go to waste. I couldn’t leave this island knowing that I could have helped you, like the shitty old man helped me… and didn’t. I couldn’t live with that.”
Saul’s lip trembled, and his eyes slowly slid up to meet Sanji’s. He sniffed and reached out a hand to Sanji’s jaw. Sanji didn’t move away. He didn’t flinch. He just watched those brown eyes as the younger man touched him.
“I have no way to thank you…”
Sanji shook his head. “You already have. You’ve taught me a lot.”
Saul brought his other hand to Sanji’s jaw. He cupped the taller man’s face in his palms, his gentle touch sending pleasant shivers up and down Sanji’s spine.
“If I had anything to give you, I would.” Saul’s voice was so soft, it was barely a whisper. “Anything you wanted…”
Sanji let his hands move to Saul’s slender hips. They seemed to want to be there.
Saul searched Sanji’s face, desperately looking for something. Tears pooled and fell from his eyes again. His body trembled.
“Do I have anything you want, Sanji?”
Sanji knew that he did. Saul had many things that Sanji wanted. He was just too much of a coward to admit it out loud. He wasn’t ready to take that step. He wasn’t ready to let himself go.
“Sanji…” The desperation in Saul’s voice broke Sanji’s heart.
Fuck it, who’s gonna know?
Sanji leaned in and pressed his mouth to Saul’s. The smaller man inhaled sharply, immediately wrapping his arms around Sanji’s neck. Saul clung desperately, opened for him so sweetly. He moaned as Sanji slid his tongue past his lips, arched as Sanji pulled his body in closer.
It was just like kissing a girl, Sanji wasn’t going to lie to himself. And the fact that Saul was a man, a man that was submitting himself so easily and so freely to Sanji’s will, sent the cook on a crushing power trip. Fuck what people thought, fuck the social stigmas, fuck Zoro, fuck the brothel, fuck everything. He wanted Saul. He wanted this man. It was crazy, it made no sense, but it was just how it fucking was.
Sanji admitted to himself that he had been attracted to Saul since Christian had brought him to the tiny room upstairs days ago. Sanji had been pulled in by that sweetness and that innocence Saul had seemed to retain even after everything he had to go through. Sanji had been charmed by Saul’s obvious attraction to him; his unrestrained admiration.
Sanji broke the kiss and backed Saul into one of the low shelves. They slammed into the wood together, jarring books and sending a few toppling to the floor. Saul panted heavily against Sanji’s mouth, his dark eyes clouded with arousal. Sanji felt that tremble of power, that primal sense of dominance flow through him as he lifted the smaller man to sit on the shelf. He pushed in between Saul’s thighs and brought his lips to Saul’s neck. He laid open-mouth kisses along a pulse that was threading almost too fast. He moved his hands, sliding them up a skinny, yet toned stomach. He spread his palms over a flat chest, unfamiliar territory, but Sanji found out quickly that men and women reacted pretty much the same when their nipples were teased.
He felt hands at his belt and shifted his stance to accommodate. Saul undid his pants and slipped his hand inside so fast that Sanji was struck momentarily dumbfounded. He let out a harsh breath at the first perfect stroke on his cock. He growled deep in his throat and dove into Saul’s mouth as the smaller man started to pump him with quick, precise movements.
He was so engrossed in the feel of a man’s knowing hands on him and the unmistakable scratch of stubble, however faint, on Saul’s slender neck, that it took Sanji a minute to realize that Saul was using his other hand to jerk himself off too. As good as the hand on him felt, Sanji was still intrigued, and looked down to watch as the prostitute’s fists moved over both their erections. This was something Sanji had never experienced before. Yes, he had shared women with Zoro a few times, and parts of the swordsman had been perilously close to certain parts of Sanji, but it had never been like this. Saul’s cock was long and lean, just like his body. The skin of his head was flushed pink, the same shade as Sanji’s. Besides the slight size difference, the two erections were almost identical. It wasn’t so bad.
Placing his hands on the wall on either side of Saul’s shoulders, Sanji braced himself. Saul’s hands seemed to know just how to pull, just how hard to squeeze. Sanji breathed deep, grinding his hips forward. The edges of the book case scraped against the floor, rattled against the wall. Saul gasped and slid down farther, bring their bodies closer. His legs wrapped around Sanji’s thighs, his hands started shifting, reaching, sliding around both-oh… oh… OH…
This… this was also new. This was very good. Mind-blowingly good. Saul’s hands had wrapped around both of their lengths and he was now stroking them together. The feel of another cock against his was strange to Sanji, but oh god oh god it was good! He watched Saul’s hands, watched two cockheads instead of one be jerked and pumped and beaten mercilessly against each other and he moaned. A rich sound from deep inside himself, a guttural, instinctual growl that had Saul’s legs trembling, his head falling back.
“Do you like this?” Saul panted.
Sanji looked up and met his half-lidded eyes. “Yeah… yeah I do…”
He wasn’t sure if it was the way Saul was looking at him then, or if it was just something that his body needed to do, but Sanji’s hand left the wall and slid over Saul’s. He slowed the frantic movements and slipped his fingers underneath the thinner man’s.
“Oh-” Saul choked, “Oh, wait… wait I can’t…”
“What?” Sanji grinned. “You can’t handle it if I touch you?”
Saul gripped the edges of the shelf. His eyes squeezed shut as Sanji started to pump them both together, mimicking the way Saul had been doing it moments ago.
“Y-yes,” Saul cried. His head slammed against the wall as he arched. “Yes!”
Sanji’s ego knew no bounds.
Repositioning his fingers, Sanji started to get the feel of it. Sanji’s hands were bigger; they were stronger. He was able to get their lengths in a better grip and jerk them together at a steadier, more powerful pace. Saul started to keen, almost wail in a sexy tenor that had tremors shooting through Sanji’s body. He felt the tension coiling in his loins. He felt the first pulses of Saul’s orgasm, that last bit of tension rip through his body before he stilled and came. He spurted in thin streams over his shirt, some hitting his chest and even his neck. He gasped frantically for air, clung to the shelf, squeezed Sanji’s thighs with his legs.
“Oh god… oh my god…”
It was powerful, so fucking powerful. Sanji felt drunk. He felt like a god. He felt himself coming. He leaned in, pumping furiously, panting into Saul’s ear, running his lips down the other man’s jaw. Tension released, pleasure exploded. Sanji grunted once and let out a sharp breath. He pulsed in his hand, spurting semen over Saul’s stomach. His anxiety left him, replaced with a bone weariness and easy contentment.
Saul kissed his neck, trailed his lips up Sanji’s jaw to his cheeks, his forehead. He pulled off his shirt and cleaned them both. Sanji tucked himself back in, settling his hands on the self’s top on either side of Saul’s hips. He kissed the smaller man slowly, savoring his sweet taste and his soft lips. He felt Saul’s fingers on his cheeks. They were no longer trembling.
When Sanji’s pulled away, he did it gently. “I have to go now,” he murmured..
Saul nodded and smiled tiredly. “Will I ever see you again?”
Sanji shrugged. “I wouldn’t doubt it.”
Saul brushed blond bangs from Sanji’s eyes.
Sanji shivered. “Stop selling yourself, okay? Do that for me.”
Saul’s eyes filled again, but he nodded and he smiled. “I promise.”
Sanji kissed him once more before he turned and moved across the room to open the door. Saul’s voice stopped him as he opened it, and he turned back around.
“Sanji?”
“Mm?”
Saul’s eyes were sill watery, but his face and his body were playful. He tilted his head to the side and smiled sweetly.
“Don’t forget me.”
Sanji grinned. “I couldn’t. You never forget your first.”
He left.
TBC
Previous chapters here.
xD