ᴋɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇʟʟ.

nothing will keep this doctor away:

ㅤㅤA surge of surprise rapidly courses through Sanji while indulgently feeling the swordsman’s tremulous state beneath him, locked hips segueing to natural pliability, pivoting forwards with steadying knees taking on the brunt of the blond’s weight. The smooth underlying wood imposes a scant semblance of ornate etchings which had grown worn with daily footfall, prolonged pressure against lower appendages gently marking skin, a consequence of vibrant fabric giving way for bare flesh. With the pair’s minor shift in elevation, it’s with such careful devotion that the cook gains a profound degree of satisfaction from the observation, watchful eyes glancing from this awkward angle to drink in the reaction - it swells and coils within the depths of an untold desire that burgeons with the sight, the tantalising knowledge of the cause setting in  (  lui, c’est à cause de lui—  ).  Ministrations draw slow and more pronounced, ardently  purposeful in their languid repetition as pursed lips chase the heated stripe at his behest, an urge to feel that full bodied tremor again commencing to rise.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤIn a strange way, the desire to enrapture the other entirely pulses deep within the man, a notion that Sanji could impart such a feeling rendering him inwardly numb, the faint dizzying sparks of a power trip starting to flicker the longer he gets to grips with the enticing thought. Savouring the unique underlying beauty in the reaction, the cook’s overcome by how he’s never witnessed it first-hand from the swordsman before  (  quelle opportunité aurait-il jamais eue..?  ),  pondering over occasions where Marimo would promptly disappear when the crew made landfall on new islands, initial considerations that the other man simply wandered off in a lost state now giving way for newfound realisation in a new light. It was inevitable that others had seen this look about him, how the curve of those lips parted with the rise and fall of that chest amidst quickening pants—  It’s a grounding thought that violently curdles the longer Sanji overly dwells upon it, jaw setting as one of the open mouthed kisses consequently purses a tad too tightly.

ㅤㅤTch. The blond tells himself that this feeling isn’t envy, but the warring reconciliation between the words, the gnawing pang within his chest and expression don’t quite correlate, curled brow furrowing a little as an ugly amalgam inwardly broils. Motions grow still, taken aback by how the cook had previously considered that, perhaps, Marimo was incapable of feeling to such an extent with regards to the blond specifically… having once blindly conceded that every disgruntled pout and morose grumble in his direction encompassed all that the opposing man saw fit to offer him. The further things now progress, the more Sanji realises just how much he’d misunderstood about this ongoing situation, each second bringing new revelations that leave him vying for more, suddenly enamoured by the prospect of being proven wrong  (  une rareté  ).  Uncomfortable retrospect tugs at snippets of scenarios, new meaning deciphered from stoic conversations and stunted gestures over the years—  but more so over the last month in the wake of the blond’s sudden absence, seeing matters in a new light as an opportunity to learn afresh presents itself like the rousing dawn of Spring.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤA splayed palm rests against the cool ground and the encompassing heat of their combined forms sways down with them, a timely quiver about the cook’s lips coinciding with the gliding trajectory of Zoro’s touch against him, spine instinctively arching as flesh inches into the snaking trajectory  (  il en veut plus  ).  Whether towards taut crevices of a slender lower back, the knotted tension carried around strong shoulders, or healing abrasions sensitive to the scantest contact of mere material, an urging hum of approval accompanies the gentle rock of Sanji’s form - the two-pronged reaction should be enough, and yet it pales in comparison with an unintended reaction: the flutter of fair lashes as that one visible blue eye grows half lidded. The blond’s pout pauses, silence descending upon him while satiated by the fellow wing’s touch, swallowing thickly as the firm grip of his nape promptly guides the cook to face the swordsman - he didn’t think it was possible for Marimo’s visage to be tinted with a warmth that rivalled his own, the spectacle a sight to behold, contentment edging into the curve of a grin.

ㅤㅤ“ Heh, you got me there. Clever... ”  The expected mockery of the latter word is dispensed with, instead encased in a fondness that’s only reserved for a few, free hand raising with the back of a finger gingerly coaxing at the flush of the other’s cheek  (  ça pique  ).  It should feel foreign to share this form of tenderness between the pair, the man basking in the glow as respective line of vision meet, the directness of the gaze sharply grasping at the blond’s senses, the overt nature of it all threatening a hasty retreat - it almost happens, gaze swiftly dropping towards the flash of that pink tongue, the backward jut of the blond’s chin bringing his nape to instinctively push back against the palm nestled behind it  (  merde, c’est vraiment en train d’arriver…  ).  “ Not a fan of being rushed. Thought I’d be worth the wait. ”  He tries to keep his cool with the aloof tone, but the confidence behind the response wavers midway, self assured features faltering in a manner that reflects and  magnifies the hints of vulnerability present about Zoro.

ㅤㅤㅤsomewhere along the blood and battles, zoro got tangled in something he hadn't named — hadn't dared to.

ㅤㅤㅤnow, sanji is straddling him in the moonlit garden, and zoro's swords are nowhere in sight. his hands are occupied elsewhere — curled against the delicate shape of the cook's sinfully tiny waist, feeling silk and skin and heat. there's no fight in this moment. no bark, no banter. just breath. just the beat of zoro's heart thudding loud in his ears, like a war drum softened to a lullaby.

ㅤㅤㅤthe kiss sanji gives him isn't lewd. it's slow. almost reverent. there's no teeth, no push of tongue flavored with tobacco and spice — just warmth, coaxing, lips against lips like a tide that never recedes. it still undoes him. zoro makes a soft, unthinking sound when fingers sink into his hair, stroking through green strands with care that borders on unbearable. he kisses back, lazily — sake-sweet and just a little dry, lips shaping themselves to sanji's like he was made for this.

ㅤㅤㅤwhen they part, zoro doesn't stop. he drags kisses across the line of sanji's jaw, over the carefully trimmed scruff, breathing in the scent of him — smoke and something sweeter, the days spices. his eyes stay shut for a long moment, the ache in his chest blooming bright and hot. ❝ yeah... yeah… ❞ his head tilts back again, drawing his gaze to sanji's. the moon glows behind the cook like a halo, and zoro's hands slide further beneath his yukata, rough palms mapping bare skin with practiced ease. he feels that curl of heat low in his gut — the slow-spreading flame, stoked by the way sanji's thigh brushes against the growing proof of his desire. everything stretches between them like tensioned thread, something that could either snap — or pull them tighter.

ㅤㅤㅤhe gives sanji's waist a squeeze, shifting him just a little higher along his torso, guiding him into position. his hips rise once — then again, slow and deliberate — letting him feel it. the pressure, the promise, the need. zoro licks his lips, exhales through his nose like a man about to say something dangerous. when he finally speaks, his voice is roughened silk, low and breathless, like gravel dipped in honey.

          IT  WAS  ODD  HOW  TIME  ALWAYS  SEEMED  TO  SLOW        considerably  when  around  his  first  mate.  the  world   paused   a  little  bit  and  everything  just   …   drifted.  that  was  how  it  was  at  the  moment   ⸻   calm  waves  ,  a  gentle  serenity  set  over  the  pair.  nothing  ever  really  lasted  though  ,  at  least  not   this   kind  of  atmosphere.  the  straw  hat  crew  always  managed  to  get  involved  in  something  crazy  ,  or  at  the  bare   minimum   start  playing  a  game  together.  it  really  didn't  take  long  for  luffy  to  get  immediately  distracted  and  clamber  off  to  some  shiny  object.

the  crew  had  landed  on  an  absolutely   stunning   island  on  their  way  to  elbaph  ,  and  while  they  couldn't  stay  long  and  risk  the  logpose  resetting  ,  it  as  so  nice  nonetheless.  no  marines.  no  enemies.  no  stress.  well   …   no  stress  for  luffy  ,  anyways.  with  a  ridiculously  wide  grin  luffy  pushed  himself  up  onto  his  knees  where  he  was  initially  laying  in  the  sand  beside  zoro  ,  a  hand  gripping  the  back  of  his  hat  to  keep  it  from  blowing  away  in  the  wind.    “  zoro!  ”     he  exclaimed  maybe  a   bit   too  loudly  ,  his  other  hand  coming  down  and   smacking   the  male  repeatedly  on  the  chest  to  try  and  get  them  to  wake  up. 

ㅤㅤㅤthe sun beat down on his exposed chest, warm and soothing, the sand beneath him almost too warm, though chopper would probably warn him about his skin. at his side, luffy was a perpetual, vibrant force — a restless ball of energy that never stayed still for long. he wiggled, squirmed, then shifted to something else that demanded zoro's attention. zoro tried to ignore him, thinking he might slip back into the comfort of sleep, but then he felt a rhythmic slapping on his chest — a rubbery hand beating on him like a war drum. zoro wheezed, his scar aching, his stomach clenching in annoyance and fondness.

admit it. you're in love with me.

if only i had someone to go out with...

a date would be really nice right about now.

i might reconsider if you bring me flowers.

were you being serious back there?

did you just try to impress me?

was that another joke, or were you telling the truth?

we agreed that if no one asked us, we'd go together.

keep telling yourself that!

here it comes! the big love confession i've been waiting for!

you've been in love with me since the day we met.

you visited me in my dreams last night.

i know you're in love with me. you just won't say it outloud.

we can't hide this forever.

don't make me beg.

if you weren't so cute, you'd be annoying.

you're not very good at hiding how you feel.

you've been staring at me for a long time now.

is that what you really think of me?

you have feelings for me. admit it.

so what if i've been lying this whole time? for good reason!

you don't make this whole love thing any easier.

you make life difficult.

you're a piece of work.

is that how you really feel?

you're lucky you're so cute.

you're not really going out with them, are you?

i thought we... nevermind.

consider me impressed.

am i annoying you right now?

you didn't like that comment, huh.

i was only kidding!

you wish we were kissing right now.

oh, you'd just love to hear me beg.

i love our little back and forth.

sooner or later we'll have to come clean about how we feel.

i'm not good at hiding my emotions.

when were you going to tell me you were in love with me?

i actually hate your guts.

keep talking like that and you'll see how i really feel.

can your head get any bigger?

was that a joke?

were you just playing with me?

you didn't actually mean that, right?

hang on. you didn't just say that.

that was a joke, right?

this is just how we are when we're together.

i tease you, you tease me.

you and i have always been like this.

if i'm not annoying you, what's the point?

i'm allergic to tickling.

they said we'd make a cute couple. can you believe that?

are you always this annoying?

if i kiss you, will you turn into a prince? yes, i'm implying you're a frog.

you're lucky i love you so much.

you take that back!

that was uncalled for!

this means war!

this calls for a duel!

i'm challenging you to an arm wrestle.

last one there is a rotten egg!

i'm not racing you!

stop looking at me like that.

you stare at me a lot.

i know, i know. i'm irresistable.

something on my face?

a little bird told me you're in love with me.

ㅤA scowl - that had been Sanji’s weapon of choice over the years whenever catching the swordsman egregiously staring back at him for no good reason  (  ‘ quel est le problème de cet idiot?! ’  ),  a fluctuating disquiet confusion giving way for the sheer ease of a flaring temper to take hold with firm control, opting to gratuitously hurl insults and lash out  (  préférant créer de la distance  ).  Whether the undertone is positive or negative, in adulthood or childhood, a person who’s never gained such bursts of ardent attention doesn’t know what to do with it, a fact that makes itself known all the more in this instant, the blond’s striking gaze threatening to waver the more the other’s amorous intent burgeons. It’s an unintentional attempt to negate the real danger of getting a little too used to this sorta thing… only for it to be  callously taken away, the man known for loving far too deeply, a fervency where a thunderous heart verges on shattering at any given moment—

ㅤㅤㅤㅤCaught mid breath as guiding hands curving over the cook’s waist effortlessly tug him closer, a  heave is relinquished as form grows languidly pliant in how it comfortably nestles against the swordsman, strong thighs momentarily splayed and finding their bearing with the momentum before pointed restriction takes hold, an innate  strength present that sees him locking them both into place  (  pas d’échappatoire, hein  ).  The growing expanse of skin brushing against each other brings about a light-headedness when entertaining possibilities, lips parted in steadying breaths while using the quiet segue to track the coaxing touch that traverses towards Sanji’s back, an inherent yearning urging for more as hips incitingly inch closer, his own palm decidedly  still as it gives the other’s leg an overt  squeeze. The garden’s gentle breeze does little to assuage the heat that emanates from the pair’s enveloped proximity, relative silence descending about them tarnished by the faint flurry of droplets from a distant water feature, the intermittent  plunge of a broad shoot of bamboo broaching the surface each time it fills up.

ㅤㅤThe swoop and dip punctuates the eking passage of time  (  le temps s’arrête pour eux  ),  and the way that Marimo’s eye  burns into the cook rivals the flames that often engulf Sanji, nigh excruciating if unaccustomed to it—  and yet a  chill ravages his very core in sudden familiarity, the hungered intensity that he now bears witness to having been observed a number of times prior… despite being ultimately misread. It quells the blond of certain longstanding questions, searching gaze tracing over the swordsman’s features with a spiralling renaissance of understanding, once overly playful and aloof expression growing a tad more considerate  (  compatissant, même  ).  The haze of peripheral petals dance about jade locks, splashes of colour that almost seem to belong with his fellow wing, subtle hues complimentary  (  comme si des fleurs y poussaient  ).  Such fixation both excites and sees the man inwardly cowering as if it was undeserved, the tentative raise of opposing fingertips  gingerly gliding across the other pirate’s forehead, a touch that slowly follows the outline of verdant hair.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤAn unobservant person would possibly think that the gesture doesn’t mean much, that it pales in comparison to the blond’s usual overtly outlandish approach when it comes to affection… but its significance between them is unspoken yet weighty in its  tenderness, sheer contrast tipping the balance in a world they both shared marred by violence, wrist pivoting for the back of knuckles to delicately drag across the heated flush of a tanned cheekbone, a warmth that Sanji dotingly basks in.  “ Sure about that? ”  While apprehension is sufficiently coaxed away, there’s still a trace of  competitiveness lingering at the back of the cook’s mind, the tangible need to gain the upper hand a deep rooted  instinct that’s so damned difficult to fully rid himself of after all these years  (  mais peut-être qu’il n’avait pas besoin de s’arrêter  ).  The very corner of his lips twitch into a cunning lopsided grin, practically imbibing on the remnants of sake hanging upon Marimo’s breath, watchful as the tip of their respective noses brush against one another,  surprise firmly taking hold of how the swordsman seems to show restraint.

ㅤㅤ“ Careful what you wish for… ”  The cook’s visage tips back to teasingly withdraw from Zoro’s immediate space, any potential hint of disappointment inherently short lived as the back of dextrous fingers ease down to inviting lips, coaxing against their wake in a fashion that’s affectionately  indulgent, a faint shudder of anticipation rippling through when entertaining the very notion of how they might feel against him in varied circumstances. It would be easy to succumb to such a desire while in this heady state, but instead the blond’s countenance lowers to settle beneath the swordsman’s jaw, the flash of the tip of Sanji’s tongue luxuriantly painting an ascending stripe against the side of the other’s neck. Remnants of the gesture glisten beneath moonlight, the man unrelenting as a  persistence takes hold in pressing plush lips into the arching flesh, the first few initially chaste before commencing to heatedly purse, crimson patterns augmenting in depth dappling the flushed canvas.

ㅤ  ㅤㅤin  a  world  where  sanji  had  not  disappeared  from  dressrosa,  not  gone  to  that  stupid  wedding  and  nearly  gotten  himself  somehow  both  killed  and  married,  perhaps  they  wouldn't  be  here.  perhaps  zoro  wouldn't  have  mustered  this  bravery,  wouldn't  have  missed  sanji  like  he  missed  a  fucking  limb,  and  decided  enough  was  enough.  if  this  evening  had  resulted  in  his  shattered  heart  -  then  so  be  it  -  but  clearly  it  wasn't,  not  yet  anyway.  not  with  with  the  blond  bathed  in  moonlight,  sitting  pretty  in  his  lap,  and  looking  at  zoro  like  he  might  be  next  on  the  menu.

ㅤ  ㅤㅤi  missed  you.  zoro  thinks,  but  he  doesn't  say  it  aloud  -  not  quite  ready  to  spook  sanji  with  the  true  levity  of  his  desires  just  yet.  i  missed  you  like  a  limb.  like  the  moon  misses  the  stars.  like  a  flower  misses  the  sun.  it's  a  feeling  so  deep  and  rich  -  so  bone  rending,  that  zoro  feels  his  jaw  ache  with  it,  his  good  eye  burning.  hands  move  on  their  own  accord  at  the  sensation,  big  and  strong  and  calloused  and  securing  around  the  span  of  sanji's  slim  waist  like  a  belt,  flexing  over  bare  skin  with  all  the  reverence  he  holds  his  blades.  stormy  gaze  is  intense,  unshaken,  and  he  looks  ready  to  say  something,  but...

ㅤ  ㅤㅤthe  thing  about  zoro  was  he  was  not  used  to  a  gentle  touch,  especially  not  from  sanji.  it  quiets  any  anxiety  he  might  have  in  a  moment,  dark  thoughts  chased  away  by  those  long,  supple  fingers.  zoro  practically  melts  into  it,  eye  drifting  shut  -  head  turning  this  way  and  that  to  chase  the  feeling.  he's  like  a  flower,  bloomed  beneath  the  sun,  fully  intent  on  seeking  the  warmth  of  sanji's  gestures,  indulgent  and  lazy,  and  seemingly  at  peace  with  a  few  simple  brushes.  when  zoro  opens  his  eye  again,  it's  hazy,  a  further  comfort  and  warmth  illuminating  the  vulnerable  hue  with  the  weight  of  his  all  encompassing  desire.

ㅤ  ㅤㅤspeaking  of  the  sun  -  sanji's  smile,  no  matter  how  playful,  is  a  beautiful  thing,  rending  zoro  breathless  and  with  a  stuttered  heartbeat  so  quick,  he  think  he  might  be  dying.  the  moment  passes  though,  swallowed  by  banter  and  the  clever  dip  of  the  cook's  body.  he  really  should've  known  sanji  would  turn  it  into  a  competition,  and  his  own  spirit  kicks  somewhere  beneath  his  skin  -  but  it's  dashed  for  the  moment  in  the  wake  of  a  heated  tongue  across  warm  flesh,  entire  body  shuddering  at  the  sensation,  before  it  continues.  zoro  squeezes  his  appreciation  into  sanji's  waist  again,  head  tilting  slightly  the  side,  and  is  just  as  surprised  by  the  low  guttural  hum  of  pleasure  that  reverberates  in  his  chest.  he's  used  to  harsh  touches,  intimate  encounters  fast  and  tinged  with  pain,  but  sanji  savors  him,  and  zoro  goes  utterly  willing.

ㅤ  ㅤㅤthe  cold  wood  of  the  walkway  shoots  a  bit  more  awareness  to  him  now  -  enough  that  the  swordsman  knows  he  simply  can't  be  limp.  one  hand  traverses  the  bare  expanse  of  sanji's  back  then,  callouses  licking  over  his  spine  -  scars  and  knobs  and  various  imperfections  that  he  is  sure  to  want  to  map  later.  thick  digits  fist  in  a  nape  of  blond,  and  zoro  gives  a  tug  -  not  quite  gentle  but  not  too  harsh  either,  gently  forcing  their  gazes  to  meet.  the  delicate  curve  of  zoro's  face  is  flushed,  corded  body  shivering  in  the  cool  night  air,  while  he  hashes  a  hazy  smirk.ㅤ  ㅤㅤ  ❝ isn't  that  your  job? ❞ㅤ  ㅤㅤ  he  murmurs,  the  other  hand  at  sanji's  side  dipping  wantingly  along  his  side,  as  if  mapping  out  the  intimacy  of  him  with  each  stroke  of  callouses.  ㅤ  ㅤㅤ❝ making  me  eat  things? ❞

It's all so childish, unbecoming of a captain, a Yonko, a soon to be king. If Zoro minds his needy leader the affection in his tone doesn't betray it. Did he miss this? Did he miss them fitting together like stones split in two? Zoro would never know how he'd screamed on the archipelago. Pulled at the earth with bleeding fingers and ugly, burning tears when his swordsman vanished with nothing but his pain to assure the rubberman he was real at all. Heartbreak like that; forced to bear witness to nothing where once a desperate nakama reached for him, is why he needs this. Zoro is real. Zoro is strong.

I'm strong.

“ ‘n I can be Zoro's forever ‘n after that.” Luffy tucks his chin in three decisive nods liking the sound of it. Belonging to Zoro, to his crew goes without saying, all of his new power is useless if he can't protect them. An exchange of vows, a promise to continue to protect everything they've built and will build. A king deserves the best after all.

ㅤ       ㅤㅤ❝ forever. ❞  ㅤ       ㅤㅤhe  agrees  once,  tucking  his  hand  into  those  silky  curls  to  pet  his  fingers  over  his  temple,  listening  with  pin-drop  hearing  as  luffy's  breath  evens  out,  and  his  newly  shaped  haki  relaxes  to  something  sweeter.  zoro,  for  his  part  -  does  not  sleep...  but  instead  keeps  a  watchful  eye,  discerning  and  protective.  luffy  would  not  be  disturbed,  and  though  their  hiding  spot  is  easily  discovered,  none  bother  to  approach  the  coiled  swordsman  and  his  charge,  smart  enough  to  clock  zoro's  rather  possessive  mood,  and  wiser  still  to  avoid  it.  maybe  it's  the  knowledge  that  they'd  spent  so  long  apart,  and  with  luffy  as  well-loved  as  he  is  -  zoro  needed  to  bask  in  his  singular  attention...  or  maybe  it  was  just  him  being  greedy  as  hell.  either  way,  he  wasn't  about  to  sever  the  moment.