Don't own One Piece or any characters.

Zoro x Sanji Rated M

First story. Not bataed. Enjoy?

It was rainy, miserable, and a Monday. Like fuck.

"A person should be particular whom to osculate with"

The professor looked over the brim of her spectacles, eyeing each and every one of her students, prominent wrinkles deepening in judgment. Someone coughed and the room went dead silent.

Zoro looked over his shoulder to see Usopp holding both hands to his mouth, cheeks pink and puffed out, poor thing was trying not laugh and get scorned by the ever wrathful Sex Ed professor. As if this was junior high.

Across the room Nami was pinching the bridge of her nose in distaste, awfully pissed about the fact that she's stuck here learning about osculating, whatever the fuck that meant, after getting knocked up by Luffy. Safe sex was the last thing on her mind because today was a Monday and well because too late. Beside her Luffy was peacefully napping, drool messily pooling around his desk. The ravenette looked carefree. His baby face softened as a tranquil mood settled. Arms snaked protectively around his pregnant red-head.

Maybe it was too early. Or maybe because it was Monday. Actually, it was probably the rain and its spiritual effect. But Zoro actually wanted to know what that word meant. Osculate. Usually the green haired man couldn't give two flying fucks. It's first period and Sex Ed. No education needed in that department. But he felt left out. Not caught up to something, apparently funny or stupid, or horrendous. Depends who you are looking at.

For all Zoro knows and given the context it could mean anal. Because, yes you should be particular about whose ass you enter. Zoro, however, highly doubted that's what Professor Tsuru meant.

Subtly glancing to his desk partner he could see Sanji's dark blue eyes stubbornly fixed on the board. Fucking Honour student. Debating pulling out his phone, getting caught and having it taken away or resorting to actually speaking with the shitty cook, Zoro remorsefully nudged the blonde.

"Shit cook" he hissed as soon as the professor began busily sketching something slightly resembling a penis.

Sanji didn't even flinch. His mouth formed a scowl, eyes narrowing slightly covered by a mess of choppy blonde bangs. Zoro knew Sanji was still mad. Furious probably. But it happened months ago. He thought he should try anyways.

A minute passed, then two.

"Shiiit cook" Zoro whisper-whined, surprised at how needy it came out.

Nothing. As if Zoro wasn't practically pleading for the blonde's attention. A mere nod in his general direction would do, but no, too stubborn.

At the beginning of the year Zoro secretly planned sitting next to blonde. All the subtle hair twirling, shoulder nudging, and the playful groping here and there. Even the occasional hand job was all thought out. Sex in the broom closet? Not planned. Eternal silent treatment? Not thought out. Being reduced from 'Morimo' to 'I will deny the fact that we had sex or that I know you' was not worth it. Actually, a day in the broom closet with Sanji is worth everything but Zoro would rather sit next to hormonal Nami than the ungrateful shit cook.

Any other day Zoro would be content with sleeping through class, Sanji or not. If the blonde wanted to pretend that their sexual tension wasn't suffocating everyone in the room then so be it. Zoro has been keeping it up for months. But by some unfortunate miracle the deafening and constant pounding of the pouring rain kept Zoro avidly awake. And now he was at place he'd never even fathom. He wanted to learn.

A roll of thunder echoed throughout the classroom the before the lightning could strike the lights in the room began flickering uncontrollably. As Professor Tsuru briskly walked towards the light switch hoping make the thing work, Zoro felt a firm hand suddenly grip his lower thigh.

Zoro could feel his chest contract painfully. Butterflies pooling in his stomach. The rapid beating of his heart reverberating in his throat. Just from one touch.

The light went back to normal with a steady buzz. And then it all went black. Not the kind of dark when if you allow your eye to adjust you could eventually make out shapes or see the outline of your hand in front of your face. It was black. The kind where it's more pleasant to close your eyes than stare into nothingness.

More thunder. A flash of light illuminated the room briefly and then once again left the students in stark blackness.

Sanji's grip on Zoro's leg didn't waver. If anything it gradually tightened probably leaving hand shaped imprints on his skins. Zoro found himself desperately hoping for a mark or bruise. Some sort of evidence that he made contact with the blonde. That Sanji had touched him. After all those strenuous weeks it was Sanji who broke this silly little tenacious game. Whether it be for cook's fear of the dark or the need they both felt for each other.

Hesitantly Zoro lightly put his own hand atop the blonde's. Scared to put any weight on for he knew how rash Sanji could be. And Zoro didn't want to break contact. He could feel familiar warmth spreading from Sanji's palm to his leg and resuming to course through his entire being. The cook's hand instantly molded into Zoro's as the greenette slowly interlaced pale slender fingers with his own brutish ones.

"It's dark"

Zoro heard it. Barely. But he heard it. Amidst panic, shrieking, and Professor Tsuru's fruitless attempts to regain control he heard it. That voice. That sweet baritone voice he was supressed from for God knows how long. So long that he had nothing but the short time in that fateful broom closet. When it was Zoro's name being called out. The memory of that voice helplessly mewling under him, body writhen in pleasure and lust.

Unconsciously he tightened his grip, both hands clammy and shaking slightly. Being overwhelmed and at a loss for words also a tad scared for what his voice might sound like after such intense hand holding he blurted out, without thinking really, the dumbest thing.

"What does osculate mean?"

A barely audible sigh escaped from the body next to him and Zoro felt insecure all over again. If only Sanji knew the effect he had on him. Roronoa Zoro, the unapproachable fag that beat people up. He kid with green hair that practiced legitimate swordsmanship. Real swords. Green hair. No gag reflex. It was who he was. And Sanji could break it all. Leave Zoro with nothing but inexplicable desires. And when did it get this bad?

"Zoro,"

He couldn't see it. But the greenette felt it. Body heat ghosting over his skin. Sanji was close. Too close for it to make sense. The man had refused to acknowledge Zoro as if he was the only one hurting. As if it wasn't Zoro that had to see the face of the man he loved stained with tears after their first time together. Like it wasn't Zoro that had to hear "it was a mistake" repeatedly from the same mouth he was passionately kissing minutes before. As if the blonde had the right to dismiss his existence. Knowing, hopefully, how much he meant to Zoro.

"You didn't answer my question" he said not knowing how to handle this emotion. This new found anger towards the man he was momentarily prepared to do anything for.

"It means to-" he stopped. People all around him were talking loudly yet Zoro couldn't hear anything. As if someone turned on TV static in his ears because all he could feel was soft warm lips hastily pressed up against his own. Sanji's lips.

"-eans to kiss, Zoro" was the last thing he heard before light went back on and the rest was a blur. Because now it was Zoro's turn to be furious.

AN: OC Zoro? I really want to continue this and am hoping I can. Positive feedback? Greatly appreciated. Kind of thinking a cool word per short little chapter.

And sorry I kind of tend to pull punctuation out of my ass so.

"A person should be particular whom to osculate with" isn't mine. It's from Miscellaneous Matter The Critique, 1909

Also, I know it could feel rushed but I'm working on it I guess. And don't really want any of them to be more than 1000 words. Kind of like drabble like things.