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“Catch,” Nami says, and Sanji looks up just in time to scramble for the glock flying through the air. He catches it like a rugby ball.
“Holy shit,” he says, “is this loaded?”
Nami rolls her eyes. “Of course it is, what use is an unloaded gun to you?”
“Madam, with all due respect, is it entirely necessary to toss a loaded weapon like a potato at me?”
Nami pulls up her pants to strap another gun to her shin. “Call me madam one more time and you’ll find out how necessary it is.”
“Right,” Sanji says.
Luffy bounds into the room, grin bright like a floodlight. “Guys, are we ready to go?”
Monkey D. Luffy is not exactly what one might imagine when picturing a gang boss that rules over one of New York City’s five boroughs. Underneath his leather trench coat, he’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt and green Crocs.
“Luffy, do you remember what happened the last time things went south and you were wearing Crocs?” Nami asks.
“I put them in sport mode this time!” Luffy says cheerfully. Nami snorts. “Besides, it’s just Torao.” He looks over at Sanji. “Wow, nice suit. You look super intimidating!”
Nami slaps Sanji on the back. “Come on, new guy. It’s time to get to work.”
In the back of the car, Nami gets down to business.
“Trafalgar Law is more of a traditional guy,” and here, she glances at Luffy who’s munching loudly on a bag of Fuego Takis, “so you’ll want to keep to a few ground rules. I’m on Luffy’s right. You’re on his left. You stay two steps behind at all times. Stay standing when we sit.”
“Don’t worry,” Luffy says through a mouthful of Takis, “Torao is a really nice guy.”
Sanji’s not sure the guy who rules Queens touting the nickname ‘The Surgeon of Death’ is often described as a really nice guy.
“Luckily,” Nami continues, slapping a hand over Luffy’s mouth, “Luffy and Law are on good terms. This should be an easy deal, in and out.”
Sanji believes it. He hasn’t heard of trouble between Brooklyn and Queens in years. It’s one of the reasons why he’s pledged himself to Luffy, his reputation for being brutal but fair. Sanji’s going to make something of himself and he’s betting on Luffy’s rising star to get him there. He’ll show his old man that he can strike it out on his own.
“You’re the muscle,” Nami tells him, “so put those biceps to good use. Flex them around. You have that whole British jock gentleman thing going for you.”
“Thanks,” Sanji preens.
“Got all that?”
“Look tough, keep close behind Luffy.”
“And stay focused. That’s the most important thing.”
The longer Sanji’s been here, the more he realizes how much depends on Nami. Luffy may be the head, but Nami is the one keeping everything together. She’s a helluva woman.
“I can’t wait to see Zoro again,” Luffy says.
Zoro? Sanji mouths at Nami.
Nami smirks. “You’ll see.”
“Christ, the traffic,” Nami grumbles as they get out of the car.
It’s a nondescript building, brick. Nice trees planted along the sidewalk. The scaffolding Sanji’s gotten used to seeing all over the city is wrapped around the front.
Luffy bounds ahead before Nami grabs him by the collar. With her other hand she talks into a small walkie. “Usopp, you got eyes?”
“Roger,” comes back with a crackle of static.
Sanji squints up at the building across the street, trying to get a visual. He thinks he sees a glint but he can’t be sure. Usopp’s too good.
“Come on,” Luffy whines.
“Alright alright,” Nami says. She looks over. “New guy, what’s the most important rule?”
“Stay focused,” Sanji parrots.
Luffy claps him on the shoulder, and they walk in.
Sanji stays two steps behind Luffy.
The room they enter is the exact opposite of Luffy’s office, with its knickknacks and snacks strewn everywhere. The walls are lined with postcards Luffy’s been collecting for god knows how long.
Trafalgar runs a tight ship.
If Sanji didn’t know any better, he’d think he walked into a lawyer’s office. The room is all dark wood and elegant lamps, bookshelves lining the walls stuffed to the brim with classics. Natural sunlight filters in, though the metal bars lining the windows cast shadows.
The man himself looks more the part as well.
Law’s covered in tattoos, black hair slicked back. He’s wearing a coat but not a shirt, so the ink that covers his chest is visible. Gold earrings on both ears. His eyes are dark, and sharp.
“Torao!” Luffy greets, grinning.
“Luffy.” Law sounds tired already.
Luffy looks past Law. “Hi Zoro,” he says, voice warm as summer honey.
“Hi Luffy.”
Sanji finally glances past the intimidating underlord of Queens, and loses his breath.
There’s a man lounging on a plush settee by the window. He’s flipping a knife back and forth between his fingers, casual as anything. Sanji would think Trafalgar had a thing against shirts if the rest of his crew weren’t so covered up. But not this man.
His yukata is left untied. A scar runs diagonally across his chest, draped in delicate, glittering gold chains. His feet are bare. On both ankles, more gold over twin scars. Sanji’s gaze travels up, up to hooded eyes and long lashes. When he moves, there’s the faintest tinkle of the three gold earrings on his left ear.
He’s the most gorgeous thing Sanji’s ever seen.
He catches Sanji’s gaze on him, and smirks.
“Torao, you never let Zoro come and play.” Luffy’s voice startles Sanji out of his trance. He looks over, and Luffy and Nami are already seated at the table.
“I’m not sending him out to Brooklyn,” Law says. Zoro laughs. The knife flips through the air.
“Aw,” Luffy sounds crestfallen.
“Luffy, we’re not here to bother Law about Zoro,” Nami says.
“I see Nami is still the one keeping things running,” Law drawls. “Shall we begin?”
Nami puts her hands on the table, leaning forward.
“Don’t worry Luffy,” Zoro interrupts. His voice is smooth as butter, dark as wine. “I can do what I want.”
“Baby,” Law sighs, exhausted. “You’re being distracting. Go wait outside.”
The knife flips through his fingers again, and Zoro doesn’t move.
“Zoro,” Law growls, sharper this time.
Zoro stands with a rush of movement, clothes rustling and gold jewelry clinking softly. He walks over to where Law is seated and bends down to bring him into a searing kiss. Law’s arm comes up to wrap around his waist, and Zoro brings a hand up to cup his cheek. Sanji sees tongue. It’s obscene.
At the last moment before Zoro pulls away, he opens his eyes to look right at Sanji. Zoro stands back up with a small sigh that goes straight to Sanji’s dick.
“Don’t make me wait too long,” he murmurs to Law.
“Okay baby,” Law answers, stroking a proprietary hand down his side.
Zoro leaves out the back door.
“Still don’t have a handle on him?” Nami asks.
Law scoffs. “That asshole’s never listened to me a day in his life since I met him.” Several of Law’s men laugh.
Luffy turns to Sanji. “Can you go outside and keep Zoro company? I don’t want him to get lonely.”
“Uh. Sure.” Sanji looks to Nami, who nods.
“New addition?” Law drawls, heavy gaze pinned on Sanji.
“Yup!” Luffy says, “Sanji’s great. Quickest draw I’ve ever seen.”
“Hm,” Law says.
Sanji feels his gaze on him all the way to the door.
Zoro’s sitting on a low garden wall. There’s grass, and bushes bursting with spring blooms. A luxury in New York, but then again, Law’s got the money.
The knife flips in his hand, glinting as it catches the sun. Sanji walks closer, hands in his pocket.
“I believe I’ve been sent out to babysit.”
The tinkling of the earrings is all Sanji hears before Zoro is up close, knife against his throat.
“I don’t need babysitting.” His voice is low. A predator.
Sanji brings an arm up, twisting Zoro’s arm back and around, shoving it against his back. But not before a thin slice opens up on his throat, just the barest hint of blood.
Zoro turns his head to glance back at Sanji. He’s grinning. “Fast and strong,” he murmurs. “I like that.”
Sanji lets go of his arm, face burning.
Zoro turns back to him, eyes going to his neck. He steps close. Sanji swears he can feel the heat of his bare chest. When he looks down, he can see nipples coyly peeking out of the fabric, underneath the chains.
Zoro has to tilt his head up to study the cut. He leans closer. A pink tongue flicks out to lick away the blood. Sanji stops breathing.
Zoro hops back up on the garden wall to study him. The knife disappears somewhere into the folds of his clothes.
Sanji can see the chains layered on his ankles. He’d never imagined bare feet could be so sensual.
"Nice glock," Zoro says, and Sanji realizes he's holding his gun. He stares, mesmerized as Zoro brings it up to his mouth and licks along the body. Then he puts the barrel into his mouth, and sucks. His cheeks hollow out, plush lips flush to the metal. Sanji can see the apples of his cheekbones, the curve of his jaw. Sanji is both turned on and terrified. His finger is too close to the trigger.
He reaches out slowly, and closes his hand around Zoro's wrist. Inch by inch, he pulls Zoro's arm away from his mouth. Firm, but slow, so slow, until the gun leaves Zoro's mouth, pink tongue darting out to trace his lips.
"It'd be a waste," he murmurs, "of something so beautiful."
Zoro hums. "Charmer."
Once the gun is safely back in Sanji's waistband, he lets out a private sigh of relief.
Zoro holds out a hand. When Sanji doesn’t move, he shakes it impatiently.
“What?” Sanji asks.
“Your hand.”
Sanji, unable to look away, places his hand in Zoro’s.
Zoro stokes a finger over the rings on his hand. “I like these.”
“They’re from back home.”
“Back home?”
“London.”
Zoro looks up through his long, long lashes. “Explains the posh accent.”
Sanji smiles, charmed.
“How about a trade?” Zoro asks. He slips a gold ring off of Sanji’s finger. It’s the one with his hometown’s coat-of-arms. Zoro brings a leg up onto the ledge to slip one of the chains off his ankle. He drops it into Sanji’s hand. The tiny gems sparkle when he brings it closer.
“Diamonds,” Zoro grins, “Cartier.”
Sanji gapes. “I’m not sure that’s a fair trade for you.”
Zoro shrugs. “I’ve got plenty more.”
He does. Every place a scar mars his smooth skin, glittering gold chains drape elegantly. Over his chest, stacked on his ankles. There’s even one falling down his neckline, though he doesn’t have any scars there. And of course, the earrings.
“You certainly do.”
Zoro leans back, muscles bunching and releasing like a panther. “What can I say, Law takes good care of me.”
“Why that ring?”
Zoro smiles, a slow small thing. “I like shiny things.” He flips Sanji’s ring through the air. He stretches out a leg to run his foot along the crease of Sanji’s pants. “So Luffy picked you, huh?”
Sanji swallows. “He did.”
The foot moves to his inner thigh, slowly creeping higher. “You must be good. Luffy is picky when it comes to his inner circle.”
“I’m pretty good in a close pinch,” Sanji says, voice hoarse. He doesn’t dare move a muscle.
“I’ll bet,” Zoro murmurs, foot moving higher still. “If you’ve got Luffy’s stamp of approval.”
“Are you ah, are you and Luffy close?”
“Luffy and I understand each other.” The bracelets wrapped around his ankles sway as Zoro moves his foot just the slightest inch, just grazing Sanji’s dick, soft as a breeze. “If I wasn’t with Law, I’d choose to follow Luffy.” Aside from the raised skin of the scar, his skin is smooth, smooth.
“Oh,” Sanji chokes.
Before he can think of anything else to say, the door creaks open.
“Baby.”
Zoro pulls his foot back before jumping off the wall. Sanji tries to shed his jacket as casually as possible, draping it in front of the bulge in his trousers.
He turns around in time to see Zoro fold himself into Trafalgar's arms. Law bends down to murmur something in Zoro’s hair, stern expression softened. Zoro’s face melts into a smile, the predator fading away. It lights up his face, sweet as anything. Sanji’s surprised.
Luffy sticks his head out.
“Sanji, time to go.”
Sanji keeps his suit jacket draped over his lap the entire ride home.
“Success?” He asks Nami.
“Success,” she confirms, eyeing him.
Once they get back, he makes a beeline to the bathroom in as slow a pace he can manage. He gets inside and locks the door.
He drops the suit jacket on the ground and unbuckles his pants, getting his dick out with a hard exhale. He muffles a groan with his other hand, stroking up and down.
He imagines Zoro’s face. Zoro’s chest, his golden ankles, the smooth skin of his feet. He imagines those long lashes fluttering as his head tilts back with a gasp.
He reaches into his pocket, taking out the Cartier bracelet. He stars at it, imagining draping it back on its owner’s ankle, mouthing up that leg.
Sanji pictures what Zoro might look like, spread out beneath him. How he’d worship every inch, pressing kisses beneath all that glittering gold. What his arm might look like, wrapped around Zoro’s waist. How Zoro would be the perfect size to fold into his arms. All that elegant muscle gliding just beneath the surface of his skin. How Sanji could drape himself over him. Zoro's lips wrapped around his cock like it was wrapped around the glock.
He thinks of Zoro’s ass, of spreading it open and burying his face in between those perfectly round globes. Thinks of the predator looking up at him, tears in his eyes, gasping with pleasure. Oh, what Sanji wouldn’t give to bring him to the peak. To lavish him with kisses.
He thinks of burying himself deep into Zoro, of what Zoro might sound like moaning into his mouth. He grips his hand tighter, stripping his dick desperately as he imagines being buried in Zoro’s body, thrusting into that tight heat. Bouncing him, hands tight around his waist.
He comes biting down on his other hand, staring at the glittering diamonds, the hardest he’s ever come on his own.
He pants for a while, coming down. He tucks himself back in, washes his face. Stares at himself in the mirror and scrubs a hand through his hair.
When he walks out of the bathroom, Nami is sitting on the couch, glasses perched on her nose as she goes through her ledger.
“So much for staying focused,” she says without looking up.
Sanji drops down into an armchair with a sigh. He can’t even find it within himself to be embarrassed.
“Watch out,” Nami says. “‘Baby ’ is Law’s most dangerous asset.”
“He isn’t just a pretty face,” Usopp pipes up. “Honestly, I think even Luffy would be hard pressed to take him down if it comes to that.”
Sanji remembers the knife flipping up and down, blade never touching skin.
“Yeah,” he murmurs into his hand. “I’ll do better.”
"Law's possessive," Ussop adds.
Nami looks up. “Your weakness for pretty faces is going to be your downfall. You romantic fool.”
“Yeah,” he sighs again. The bracelet burns a hole in his pocket.
Nami and Usopp laugh.