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Sanji stood stiffly in his kitchen, the sting of onions in his eyes and the muffled laughter of his captain and crew filtering in from outside. He did what he could to focus on the task at hand, to distract himself with the joy of being in his element and the fondness he felt bubbling up in his chest at the playful sounds of his crew on a sunny day. Well accustomed to suppressing inconvenient thoughts, he forcefully guided himself back over and over again every time his thoughts wandered.
It wasn’t even his fault, Sanji was the victim here. He just wanted to clean up before settling in for bed, a completely normal, and frankly, predictable desire. Any of his crew members could have guessed Sanji was going to waltz into the bathroom a few hours after dinner, done with prep and in need of a good tooth brushing– any of his crew members, except for Zoro. That inconsiderate, shitty, lousy excuse for a swordsman lacking in any basic decency just had to decide to use the exact time frame in which Sanji always retires for bed to– to–
A satisfying crunch emanated from beneath the flat side of his knife, and the strong aroma of garlic brought him back from the unpleasant memories. He could feel his cheeks flush and he hated it. He redoubled his efforts in focusing on anything but his thoughts, all his energy going into each down swing of his knife. The garlic was already a mush on his cutting board, the sticky oils released coating his fingers and blade, stinging at his eyes– but he kept at it, grinding his teeth together in his efforts.
“Cook,” the unmistakable sound of the shitty moss ball's voice felt like an assault on Sanji’s overactive senses. It violently ripped Sanji out of whatever measly amount of comfort he’d managed to wrack together in the confines of his workspace, forcing him to whip his body around, knife held accusingly toward the intruder.
The smug expression on Zoro’s face did nothing to calm his nerves. If anything– it managed to rile Sanji up even further, “What the hell are you doing?” he ground out, trying to sound threatening.
Zoro rolled his eyes, “Get over yourself Curls, I need a drink,” he said easily, no different from the countless times he had in the past.
It pissed Sanji off the bastard had the gall to act so nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t forced Sanji to bear witness to– to— “And you can fucking wait! Shithead!” He was losing his patience, he needed to get his eyes off the swordsman before his head imploded. Turning back to his pile of mushed garlic, his eyes bore holes into the white-knuckled grip he had on his knife, not once relaxing since Zoro had made his presence known.
Instead of a response, Sanji heard footsteps, alongside the distinctive sounds Zoro’s swords made as they clunked against each other with each step. Sanji turned only his head this time to observe the shitty pile of moss posing as his crew’s first mate, eyes narrowed into a hard and distrusting glare. Instead of receding, Zoro approached, eyes locking with Sanji’s as he opened the glassware cabinet and retrieved a water glass. “I’m thirsty,” Zoro said, tone flat, but Sanji easily caught the way the corners of his lips twitched upwards mockingly.
Sanji could feel his chest screaming at him, and he shakily released a breath in response, letting his teeth unclench slightly. It was too much, Zoro’s frame in front of him, eyes locked with his, entirely unbothered by what had Sanji so bothered. It was just a moment that passed like that, air so thick Sanji had difficulty getting it into his lungs, electricity zapping at the space between himself and his crewmate.
Sanji only had so many options– fight or run. In any other case concerning Zoro, Sanji would have thrown a kick his way, and revelled in the momentary shock on the swordsman’s face before the inevitable pulls of a good fight got him drawing his blades. But he needed more distance, the thoughts of a fight sparked vivid thoughts of breathing the same air as Zoro, pulsating adrenaline pulling them closer– overlapping with images of Zoro in the bath last night— that’s it.
All Sanji truly registered was the sound of his knife clanking against the counter as he unceremoniously dropped it to flee. Sanji didn’t think to look back, he just needed to wall himself up in a private place– which led him to the bathroom. He groaned with the realization that the last place he should’ve gone was here, but he was finally alone and could breathe, so he’d take what he could get. He let his back slump against the locked door, because even in his panicked state, he locked it, like a normal person. He slid down until his butt hit the ground, allowing himself a deep breath as he let his head fall.
The new position forced Sanji to become aware of the bulge formed between his legs. The sight caused his heart to drop. As the realization fully set in that his body reacted in that way to the infuriating presence that was his crew mate, he felt his blood start to boil. Of fucking course this is what the world’s doing to him now, this is just what he needed. His fury-spiked thoughts fueled his delirium, the little control Sanji had over his mind crumbling. Images of last night resurfaced– Zoro sitting on the edge of the bath, hard muscles engaged and drawn together, his sweat slicked skin twitching and reflecting the light. Sanji groaned, a renewed hot sensation pooled in his gut.
It was for a split second– Sanji walked in, barely saw Zoro, and left, appalled shouts forcefully thrown his way as he retreated. He didn’t see Zoro’s expression, didn’t hear his response, but the image of Zoro’s huge hand wrapped around his monster of an appendage was burned inside Sanji’s brain. He spent the entire night fighting his brain, begging his subconscious to stop providing details, stop picturing Zoro’s face, stop thinking about how close he was, how big he is. But the harder Sanji tried to not think about it, the raunchier his imagination became. He was supplied unhelpful images of his own cock positioned next to Zoro’s, felt the utter humiliation and shame that accompanied being entirely outmatched, imagined how it’d feel to have Zoro’s massive hands encircling him, forcing him to climax.
A whimper escaped Sanji as he started palming at his erection, the anger and shame he felt mixed intoxicatingly with the inescapable desire to be caged in. Tears stung at his eyes, he felt like he was betraying himself, causing too complicated emotions to bubble up. He let himself give in to the temptation, guilt pooling alongside unbearable arousal as he jerked his pants and boxers down, freeing himself completely. He screwed his eyes shut as the feeling of his fist around his erection took over.
All he could hear was his own blood rushing in his ears, his hands working himself up and down relentlessly. Feeling entirely broken, he couldn’t help himself get closer and closer every time his mind supplied him with more images of the swordsman, his imposing presence in his mind trapping Sanji under his own touch.
He came almost immediately, his panting breaths filled the room as his mind came down from the high. It dawned on him slowly that that was the hardest he had ever come. He felt disgusting, completely ruined, he hated the swordsman for doing this to him, and he hated himself for letting him. His thoughts rambled, continuing to mentally cuss out his crew member, feeling his dick twitch back to life all the while.
Zoro was fine letting Sanji work himself up over nothing for a few days. He hadn’t expected the cook to actually run away from him after a little goading. He’d even had the sense to feel a little bad for pushing him, but his reaction still felt unnecessarily exaggerated. They were both men, they had needs, and it couldn’t have been that big a shock seeing another man fulfill his own needs, albeit accidentally. Sure, it’s a bit uncomfortable having a private moment be disrupted, but it wasn't not like Zoro saw Sanji jerking off, so why was Sanji being so cagey about this?
The swordsman huffed, exchanging a couple of dumbbells for a barbell. Zoro expected more from the cook, but maybe he truly was just that much of an all around man hater. He liked that about Curly-brows, not the man hating part, but how he stayed true to his convictions. This whole silent treatment and avoiding act was probably just an extension of that. Too bad for Zoro, he’d hoped for a bit more when the blond joined the crew, after all, they were the same age and the cook was really his type. But, he was fine venting his desires in the form of physical brawls with the blond, and the occasional time to himself in the bathroom at night.
The main issue right now was with Sanji avoiding him full stop, there was no fighting, and the occasional jerking off session wouldn't cut it. It had only been a few days, but Zoro could already feel the itch underneath his skin, the desire to fight and be fought steadily growing. He gives it another day before ruthlessly working out won’t cut it anymore. He dropped the barbell to the ground, following suit to finish off his workout with a few sets of push-ups.
He stopped when he heard the sound of the trap door creaking open, registering the cook’s presence. As the cook’s unmistakable mop of yellow hair ascended through the entrance, Zoro wiped himself down with a nearby towel. The blond brought with him a cheap bottle of strong stuff, eyes flitting across the room with a furrowed brow and slight frown, “This bottle is yours if you answer me this: have you showered today?” he offered.
With a confused stare, Zoro noted how the cook was still avoiding eye contact, and decided he didn’t need to look further into it, “Yeah…? After dinner,” he said.
Sanji nodded. Zoro made to retrieve the bottle, and as the cook extended his hand to give it to him, he started, “You have a massive dick,” he said plainly, forcing a shocked cough out of Zoro, throat tightening up as if allergic to the information.
Swiping for the bottle, the swordsman stepped back to take a swig, “And?” He couldn’t help but laugh as the shock died down, “Is that why you’ve been throwing a tantrum?” He defaulted to teasing him, unsure of how to properly address the way Sanji’s tense gaze kept flying from his crotch to anything else, and right back again.
He didn't answer the question, instead, he just doubled down, “No, like monstrous. How does a shithead like you have– fuck, why is it so big?!” Sanji exclaimed suddenly, like the information is only now dawning on him, as if he hadn’t been sitting on this for half a week. He walked toward Zoro, just a few steps, but in the small space of the crow’s nest, the distance between them now felt far too intimate, “And why didn’t you lock the door?!” his expression turned pleading, sending bolts of excited heat through his system. Zoro thought he needed a brawling partner, a rival, that flare of adrenaline from a good fight, but the feelings coursing through Zoro’s body in response to the cook’s broken voice were so much more potent. Sanji was scratching that itch spot on.
He placed his newly acquired bottle of sake to the side as he felt a sadistic smile pull at his features. Sanji’s expression shifted instantly in response, his pupils dilated and his flush intensified, but the scowl and furrowed brows seemed unwilling to falter. “You’re into it,” Zoro chuckled, voice rumbling with the sheer force of how turned on he was getting, “My massive cock, you’re into it,” he repeated, almost mocking, as his hands found Sanji’s hips, fingers gripping hard.
Sanji’s breath hitched, all the confirmation Zoro needed to crush his lips against the cook’s, simultaneously driving their pelvises together. The stimulation forced them to groan into each other’s mouths, the sounds getting swallowed up in the rush of movement. The cook’s hands made their way to Zoro’s waistband, pulling at the fabric desperately, “Off,” he gasped into Zoro’s mouth, hips continuing in their relentless grinding against him.
Zoro laughed, pulling away to shove at his waistband, “Did I shower today? Really?” he barked out in realization. He freed his erection, hands moving to undo Sanji’s dress pants.
Sanji wasted no time, immediately going to hold Zoro’s cock in his hands, “Fuck,” Sanji sighed, arousal dripping from his tone. Zoro never thought Sanji would consider doing anything with him, let alone a fucking handjob. He groaned as Sanji’s skilled fingers worked around his erection, fingers unable to form an enclosed fist. “It’s so… ngh– heavy,” Zoro groaned, he didn’t think he had a big head about the size of his dick, but seeing Sanji’s slender fingers struggle to fit him in their grasp, hearing the cook’s pleased comments, it was satiating something incredibly messed up inside of him.
Finally succeeding in undoing the cook’s pants, he dragged them down in order to free the blond’s erection. Sanji’s gasp was followed by a sweet fucking moan– which Zoro relished greatly, “Fucking– sexy,” he grunted out, easily pumping the cook’s erection with the amount of pre-come coating it.
Sanji’s hips stuttered, and with one hand still on Zoro’s dick, stilled Zoro’s ministrations with his other hand, “Stop,” Sanji panted, head floating up to look at Zoro’s face. Zoro froze, unbelievably turned on and waiting. He will take what he can get, and be careful not to overstep. Sanji couldn’t quite make eye contact, but his gaze was focused up anyway, flitting from the swordsman’s lips to his hair and his earrings, “I want this inside of me, Mosshead” he said breathlessly, heavy-lidded and clearly willing.
Choking on nothing, Zoro sputtered before forming his response, “Where is this coming from?!” the ridiculousness of the situation was starting to catch up with him, he almost wanted to laugh.
Sanji’s aroused expression lit up with anger, finally making eye contact with Zoro, his blue eyes swirled as he landed a weak kick against Zoro’s shins, “Hell if I know!” his hands started pounding against Zoro’s chest limply, “This is your god-damned fault in the first place you shitty swordsman! I was fine before– before, y’know, fine! And now all I can think about is your stupid dick, fuck!” His hands stilled, “I want you to hold me down and fuck me, and I don’t want to unpack that!” His balled up fists rested against Zoro’s chest, eyes still angry but expression bordering on pleading.
Processing his crashout, Zoro weighed his options for only a moment before his expression darkened, “Don’t gotta tell me twice,” he ground out, voice ragged even to his own ears. The anger dissipated from Sanji’s expression, making way for a doe-eyed expression of excitement. Backing him up against the nearest wall, he just had to ask, “This your first time?”
The fight Sanji had with himself mentally told itself through his expressions, and he finally managed, “No shit, fuckface,” he said, his smile crooked and glare prominent. It faltered for a moment before he continued, “I don’t want you treating me like it’s my first time,” he rasped, gaze heavy.
There was something mind-numbingly thrilling about the knowledge that the cook was willing to place this level of trust in him. It felt like the cook was recognizing him as his reliable first mate, giving him something so intimate, asking him to break it. Zoro caged Sanji against the wall, he relished the way his frame so easily blocked the cook in when he’s willing, and grinned at the knowledge that the cook was willing, “I won’t,” he said, before leaning down and kissing him again, softer, but just as heated. His tongue found the cook’s, and he caged him further into the wall, delighting in the illicit noises it produced from the blond.
Just as Zoro pressed his knee in the groove between Sanji’s thighs, about to rejoin their groins, the cook pulled away, “Wait,” he said curtly, unpanicked and horny, and Zoro huffed, suppressing all impatience.
Zoro managed a grunt, his body tensing with the desire to just keep touching the cook splayed out in front of him, flushed and panting, like he was serving himself up on a silver platter, “Yeah?” He grated out.
“Why are you okay with this? I just humiliated myself telling you exactly why I need this, but you? You’d just sleep with any of us if we threw ourselves at you?” Despite what he was saying, his expression remained partially dazed, eyes staying focused on Zoro’s lips as he protested.
Rolling his eyes, Zoro replied immediately, “No, I wouldn’t just sleep with anyone on the ship, but you? Absolutely. So, can we get a move on?” His patience was wearing thin, but it’s not like the cook couldn’t just land a powerful blow when he least expected it and high-tail it out of there. Patience was his only choice.
The cook’s eyes flitted between Zoro’s, searching for something, expecting him to back down and admit he’d screw anyone, tell Sanji he’s not special. But he didn’t find it, instead, a deep plume of red blossomed across his cheeks, his pupils dilated impossibly large, swallowing up his irises, and he exhaled dreamily, hips twitching awake, “Yes, yeah, let’s get a move on– fucking, shitty moss ball swordsman with a giant–” Zoro didn’t bother letting him finish, resuming their make out with renewed vigor.
He grinded their pelvises together again, devouring every noise Sanji gasped out in response. His hands smoothed over Sanji’s sides, unable to keep his grip soft, likely peppering bruises everywhere he touched. In turn, Sanji’s hands found purchase on the back of the swordsman’s head, pulling at the hair and forcing them closer together.
Although Zoro would be happy to continue their teenage level tryst, making out and frottage to start, ease the cook into things, Sanji was making it very clear he had other ideas. One of his hands stopped playing with Zoro’s hair and instead made its way to grab one of Zoro’s hands, guiding it behind him to his ass. He groaned into Sanji’s mouth, happy to fondle the cook's ass.
He appeared pretty happy to get fondled too, moaning obscenely as Zoro’s thick fingers dipped into the cleft of his ass over his pants. They had to break away from each other as Sanji hurriedly pulled his pants off completely, Zoro helped him with his dress shirt, needing as much as the cook to get it off, and hands far less shaky.
Sanji pulled at Zoro’s shirt, urging him to take it off, and huffed dramatically when he finally did, “Shit, I was hoping at any point, the fact that you’re a man would magically turn me off and I’d be off on my merry little way,” he said without humor, hands roaming over the swordsman’s bare chest, “But your stupid green hair and dumb neanderthal face, your body, you’re so fucking huge, ugh, I really want you to hold me down and do terrible things to me,” his voice filtered directly into Zoro’s ear, accompanied by the soft jingle of his earrings as Sanji bit down on his lobe.
“Fucking–,” Zoro swept Sanji up, quickly transferring him to the couch nestled in the corner of the crow’s nest, “fine,” he pinned him there, watching the dreadful excitement build up in the cook’s face. He brought his fingers to the blond’s mouth, “Wanna do the honors?” he smiled crookedly, eyes growing dark as the cook accepted the digits into his mouth.
Sanji’s eyes remained glued to Zoro, slobbering over his fingers obediently. He opened his mouth, letting Zoro know he was done, “Okay, hurry, open me up,” he urged, tilting his hips up towards Zoro as he towered over him.
“You’re actually a full blown pervert,” Zoro started as he located Sanji’s entrance, feeling the area twitch as he smoothed his spit soaked fingers over it, “It’s really fucking hot,” he finished as he slipped his middle finger in. Sanji gripped at Zoro’s shoulders, choking down a moan. Zoro groaned at the realization the cook was already worked open and wet, “You fingered yourself?” He accentuated the question by plunging his finger as far as it could go, the cook taking it easily with a cry.
Sanji nodded deliriously, “I couldn’t stop thinking– so big, I needed it so bad,” his hips rocked into Zoro’s finger, pleading with him to move, asshole twitching so invitingly, “but it’s not the same, shit, your finger’s so much bigger, longer,” he gasped out. Zoro really liked the honesty, really liked what he was being honest about– the prospect of Sanji fingering himself relentlessly to get fucked by him made him impossibly harder.
He granted Sanji the relief of movement. Suppressing the urge to tear him apart, he chose a slow and deliberate pace. With Sanji so open and honest, moaning under him, Zoro truly couldn’t help himself, “How many times?” he asked, heat pooling in his chest with anticipation.
The cook screwed his eyes shut then, head whipping to the side as he once again fought himself on the answer. Zoro twisted his finger inside of him, grazing his prostate and helping him choose the right answer. “Shit, fuck– fuck, I– at least, mmgh– 10 times since–” Zoro rewarded him with another finger, immediately angling them towards his sweet spot.
Sanji was clearly working really hard not to screech, his choked back moans presenting themselves as sobs, “Fucking insatiable, huh?” he spent a minute fucking the cook just like that, two fingers rocking in and out while his body wracked with the need to take him in. He’s so open already, like he spent the whole day finger fucking himself before working up the nerve to confront Zoro. He added another finger, completely mesmerized by the way his tan fingers disappeared into the cook’s pink little asshole over and over again, “I’m gonna make you come so hard, cook, I’m gonna fucking destroy you,” he said confidently, licking up some of the drool spilling from the corners of Sanji’s lips.
Knowing if he didn’t, the cook would wake the entire crew, Zoro clamped his free hand over his mouth, shivering at the way the blond’s eyes widened, training in on him in anticipation. He began a cruel and excruciating pace– he was asked not to treat him delicately after all. Immediately, the cook squirmed helplessly, pinned completely under Zoro as his huge fingers pounded mercilessly into him. He couldn’t fucking think, he could just feel the unrelenting pleasure slowly build to overwhelm him mixing dangerously with the utter shame and humiliation baring himself to an equal like this fills him with. But more than anything else, he wanted more. Zoro was right, he was insatiable.
Sanji’s hips rose as much as they could with Zoro’s fingers pummeling into him, every noise suppressed by the hand clasped over his mouth, strong and immovable like steel. He was totally trapped, under the complete mercy of his crewmate. He felt Zoro’s head fall to his chest, bites and licks sending jolts of pleasure down, further increasing his feeling of frenzy. All of a sudden, Zoro was by his ear, “You’re taking me so well,” his gravelly voice was too much, every one of Sanji’s senses completely saturated by Zoro, he was toppling over the edge– his entire body tensed, and Zoro’s pace responded kindly, slowly and delicately coaxing him further over the edge as his dick spurt out wave after wave of cum.
Zoro removed his hand from over Sanji’s mouth, using it to smooth over the cook’s sides. Sanji panted, chest rising and falling with urgency as he worked to get oxygen back up to his brain. Zoro removed his fingers when he felt the cook unclench slightly, moving to massage the fatigued muscles around the cook’s groin. Sanji said nothing for a bit, observing Zoro as he felt him up, eyes eating up every twitch and flush Sanji’s body produced. Then his hands found Zoro’s chest, “I’ve never managed to come without jerking off,” he said, almost disbelievingly.
Zoro could just bark out a laugh, the indirect praise stroking his ego nicely. He felt his erection twitch expectantly, but ignored it in favor of continuing to map out Sanji’s body with his hands.
The cook released a long sigh, and Zoro noticed his dick twitching back to life as he continued his ministrations, “Seriously?” he asked.
The cook didn’t bother with a reply, rolling his eyes as he collected all the spit in his mouth to wet his hand. Zoro should’ve figured, but it still sent shockwaves through his body when that same hand wrapped itself around his dick. Sanji struggled just as much as before to hold the entire thing in his grip, but his expression was much more openly wanton this time around, “Said it yourself moss-for-brains, I’m insatiable,” he grinned.
As much as Zoro wanted to be the calm, cool, and collected first mate all the time, he had just spent the last half hour watching the sexiest display of his entire life, completely untouched. He grabbed Sanji’s hands and pinned them above him, keeping them there with one hand.
“Oh, sexy,” Sanji said humorously, but his growing erection betrayed his tone.
Zoro just groaned, and used his other hand to line himself up before holding Sanji’s hips down as he slowly entered. Sanji sucked a breath in, arms tensing to be free, but Zoro kept him pinned there. The cook’s tight, wet heat surrounded him, and he could feel his entrance twitch and strain around him to accommodate the size.
He focused his gaze on Sanji’s face, studying the way his eyes were screwed shut, how his mouth was pressed into a thin line. Zoro relaxed his grip on Sanji’s hands, bringing his hand down to gently swipe a thumb over his cheek. Sanji’s eyes flew open, and he immediately focused on Zoro, hands floating up to hold his face. “It’s not gonna feel good for either of us unless you relax,” Zoro strained.
The cook chuckled, his voice already wrecked, “Your dick is fucking huge,” Sanji gasped, “Holy shit, your dick twitched when I said that– you– you’re more into this than me!” he exclaimed, a smile tugging at his lips.
Grunting, Zoro pushed in even farther, Sanji’s laughter relaxing him enough to do so, “Shut up,” Zoro delighted in the way Sanji actually shut up, toes curling as he took more and more of him in.
Sanji looked down, the sight of Zoro’s monstrous appendage entering him inch by inch caused him to gasp, arching his back, “This is starting to feel really good,” he gasped out, hands still on Zoro’s chest. He started clenching his fists against the skin there— his brain was screaming at him to grab hold of something, anything, warning him soon he was gonna need it.
Seeing the restlessness rapidly build in the cook’s eyes, Zoro took his hands, entangling their fingers before pressing them against the cushion either side of Sanji’s head. He slid the rest of the way into Sanji, and both him and Sanji looked down to see just how connected they were. Zoro huffed out a reserved laugh, “Holy shit, you really managed to take all of me,” he said, almost in awe.
Sanji’s asshole clenched, forcing a groan out of Zoro. “Fuck, don’t say that, does weird shit to me,” he warned.
“I guess the jury's still out on which of us is getting off on this more,” Zoro offered, finally pulling back out, relishing the sweet noise it pulled from Sanji. The cook wrapped his legs around Zoro’s back, thighs straining to pull him back. His fingers tightened around Zoro’s hands, thin pale fingers over thick tan ones, and his eyes remained trained on Zoro.
As he pushed back in, Sanji fought to keep his eyes open, wanting so desperately to see Zoro, to make Zoro see what he was doing to him. Noises started fighting their way out of Sanji again, unable to suppress them properly as his body reacted to the pace Zoro was beginning to set.
Each thrust tested Sanji’s ability to keep his eyes open, to keep his thighs from crushing the man they’re entangled around, and to keep his nails from stabbing into the hands holding him down. “So full,” he managed, arching up to close as much of the space between them as possible, “You’re fucking me so deep,” he knew he was taunting Zoro, and knew exactly how the way Zoro twitched all the way inside of him would make him feel.
The swordsman ground him into the couch, grunting while he bottomed out, and waited there a moment, “If you don’t shut up ‘m gonna fucking kill you,” he rasped out, thrusting again, hard.
Sanji’s mouth fell open in a silent scream as tears prickled at his eyes, “Oh my god, fuck me– please just,” he moaned helplessly as Zoro heeded his request. This time, his pace bordered on brutal, accurately thrusting into spots Sanji didn’t even know he had. He wanted to continue goading Zoro, but every breath was ripped away from him as the swordsman’s mammoth cock pounded inside of him.
The way Sanji writhed under him had Zoro gritting his teeth to keep from climaxing too soon, the pale expanses of skin straining over muscles contracting and twitching– all just to accommodate Zoro. He let go of the cook’s hands, using his now free hands to clasp Sanji’s hips and truly drill him into the couch. Sanji’s arms immediately fluttered up, wrapping around Zoro’s neck securely.
“Ha–! Look how good you’re taking me, Sanji,” Zoro knew the cook wouldn’t be able to respond, only choke out sob after sob as Zoro continued his relentless pace, “So fucking pretty, you’re swallowing me up so nice,” he also continued his relentless praise, taking immense joy in the knowledge it was doing something irreparable to his cook.
Zoro really wasn’t going to last much longer, and in a last ditch attempt not to come first, he buried his head in Sanji’s neck, lifted him and pressed their chests together– forcing the cooks weeping hard-on to get trapped in between their sweat-soaked abdominals. The cook immediately went shock-still, every neuron firing, every muscle tensing, and finally– finally– Zoro buried himself as far into Sanji as he could go– so much deeper now that he had Sanji in the air– and came unbelievably hard.
The shockwaves rippled throughout them both, Sanji was barely producing anything from his abused cock, and Zoro was endlessly pumping his load deep in the cook, eliciting whimper after whimper. Slowly, Zoro settled Sanji back on the bed, appreciating the utter mess he’d made of his crewmate. Still connected, Zoro tried searing this image into his memory, Sanji’s entirely fucked out expression– his fucked out body, still attached to the thing that started all of this.
Sanji’s legs screamed at him to stop clenching around Zoro so hard, and he consciously took a breath to relax them. No longer physically bound to Sanji, Zoro slowly pulls out, willing away the heat that pools at the sight of his ungodly amount of cum streaming out of Sanji’s overworked ass. Sanji groans, “No longer feel full, ugh,” the disappointment was clear in his tone, “Need a fucking smoke,” he whined.
A laugh tore its way out of an entirely satiated Zoro, “You sure you don’t wanna unpack this? After months of sailing with me, you have this unbearable urge–” Sanji cuts him off with a hand to his mouth.
“We’ll unpack my shit if we unpack how much you got into this,” He said, pulling Zoro down and under him so he could rest against his chest, “Swallowing me up, you’re so pretty,” he mocked.
“You are,” Zoro said easily, hands coming up to hold Sanji close.
Sanji sputtered, screwing his eyes shut and burying his face in the chest below him. A moment passed before he lifted his chin again, “I have to clean up,” he said, feeling the mess between his legs making itself more and more present with each passing moment, “I can’t go in there without jerking off anymore,” his hand played with Zoro’s earrings absent-mindedly before his eyes lit up, “Fuck me in there?” he asked, perked up at this new idea.
“Now?!” Zoro asked incredulously, shocked the cook had anything left in him.
Sanji hummed, considering, “This has barely scratched the surface of what I worked myself into these past few days,” he said ominously, “Insatiable,” Zoro took that as a challenge.