Sanji's Head Over Feet


“You've already won me over in spite of me.”

The tall blonde stared at the swordsman, he was trying to be inconspicuous but that wasn’t working very well. Just standing there; in plain sight with a cigarette hanging from his lips, his head cocked and an odd expression on his face. However, ever the dense one – Zoro hadn’t noticed or so he thought. Sanji didn’t know when it had started, the fascination with watching the swordsman, but it had come on fast; faster than he could have imagined. It wasn’t like the fascination he got from watching or taking care of the girls, it was a frustrating fascination. He didn’t understand why he wanted to watch the green haired man, he just did – because no matter what Zoro was doing, to Sanji it was like an art…

“And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet.”

Then one day, while he was in the galley; he’d gotten it. It struck him like lightning. He stopped chopping the carrots, and pushed the tip of the knife into the cutting board, leaning on it. He couldn’t breathe for a moment, and then he let out a sickening laugh. It was light in tone and slightly deranged, like he had slowly lost his mind and just not realized it.

“Oi, Shitty-Cook,” The voice, he had been there; heard the deranged laughter; great. Just what he needed, the object of his fascinations to be lurking about whilst he had his epiphany, he didn’t even want to turn around or acknowledge the man.

He knew he’d have too though, Zoro was ever the stubborn one, and he if ignored him; he was likely to get a sword to the neck. He turned, slowly; his eyes falling on the moss head.

“What Marimo?” He demanded, keeping his voice its normal tone when speaking to the other man. Zoro raised an eyebrow; and Sanji cursed himself, what had he done wrong?! What crucial body language had given him away? Zoro watched him, and took a swig of the rum that was sitting opened next to him. Obviously the moss head was trying to make him break out into a sweat and tell him all his darkest secrets…

Wait, when had he begun to think like that? Like it was all some kind of conspiracy, a conspiracy to find out his true feelings for the swordsman! Inwardly Sanji berated himself; and forced the calm into his body, lighting up a cigarette. It was very much needed and when he inhaled the toxin, he could feel his muscles relaxing.

Zoro was still watching him, that eyebrow still raised; then he spoke again – shocking Sanji with a simple. “Never mind.” He stood from his spot, and strode out of the galley, and Sanji watched him go. He turned back to the cutting board; and took a piece of the carrot and popped it into his mouth. Something he might not do all the time, but on occasion, just a nibble. It settled his nerves.

“Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are.”

It was late, and Sanji was still up. He was preparing for breakfast the next morning. Best get it out of the way, so that it would be ready to go after his watch shift. It had been two days since the incident in the galley with Zoro, and his abrupt realization, that his odd fascination for the green haired swordsman was actually, love. Things had gone on like normal since then, though as normal as was allowed. He’d gotten into one actual fight with the swordsman since then and sadly got his ass handed to him. The whole time his mind reeled, the feeling – like he was actually feeling for the first time what the man’s skin felt like, what a thrill and shock the swordsman breath or fingertips on him was like, and it set his skin on fire. He was half considering starting another half ass fight, just to get those feelings all over again.

He wouldn’t risk it though, he knew the Marimo was suspecting foul play, he hadn’t fought back the way Zoro liked. He hadn’t kicked as hard, or flipped as high. He was sure; the moss-head was going mad about it; trying to figure out what was going on, while he sat in the Crow’s Nest and watched for any signs of something horrible on the horizon. He had to admit, however – while they fought; he watched the swordsman’s body, the way it moved; trembled, flexed. Sanji was sweating, his body hot just from the thought. There had been sweat, grinding and grunting; it was almost like sex, without the sexual release. The blonde huffed, and snubbed out his cigarette.

“I couldn't help it…”

More sleepless nights, the blonde was tiring of waking in a cold sweat, with stained pants and the imaginary feel Zoro’s lips on his trembling, wanton skin. He got up, another painfully pleasurable dream and staggered out onto the deck. Taking a deep breath, he tried to soak up as much of the cool air on his superheated skin as he could. His flushed cheeks, and flushed body slowly began to cool – but then hair on the back of his neck pricked up. He wasn’t alone. He hadn’t noticed before too busy trying to calm his raging body, but he wasn’t he could tell now. His eyes shifted around the deck. Who was on guard duty tonight? Usopp? That wasn’t it though, there was something even more familiar about this; again it hit him like a ton of bricks. He turned slightly, and looked over his shoulder; and there he was, leaning against the wall. Green hair sparkling in the moonlight, shirtless; and perfectly ripped; the absolute picture of male perfection!

“Shitty-Cook,” was Zoro’s polite greeting. Sanji let his mouth fall open, but not too far; and that raised a grin on the other man’s face.

“Marimo Head,” Came his response after he got his wits about him. Zoro grinned, obviously Sanji (even this late at night) could be coaxed to play, and play he would.

There was a swirl, no more insults after the first few; which were forgotten mere moments later. They were as quiet as possible, as swords clinked; and leg’s kicked. It was almost like playing a game of Twister except nobody wins; and the object is to shut the other person up without alerting Usopp or waking the others. Okay, it wasn’t at all like a game of Twister.

Sanji looked up; again – he hadn’t tried so hard; and just look where it got him, pinned under all that Braun. Hands held by the wrists over his head, hips pinned by the others and legs, though carefully wrapped, still wrapped around the swordsman’s hips. Again, sex came to mind and it made his cock twitch. He worried that the swordsman might feel, and thus tried to think of something to make the ever rising piece of flesh disappear.

Too late, something crossed Zoro’s face; and Sanji opened his mouth. He was going to try to explain. That didn’t work because the moment he did open his mouth, Zoro’s rough mouth was pushed down on his. The kiss, their first kiss; it was needy and passionate and conveyed all the pain, passion, regret and anger they shared for each other. It was hate, and love all wrapped into one neat package and shoved down each others throats. It could have been described in one word, but that word wasn’t coming to Sanji at the moment. All that came to Sanji now was a series of mewls and moan’s that barely got out of his mouth, before somehow; like magic were devoured by the green haired man.

Perfection. That would have been the word he might have used, had his brain not been set to Fuck.

“It's all your fault.”


~~~~~~~~ Back to Zoro/Sanji ~~~~~~~~



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