So this story kinda wanted to become something bigger than a two-shot, but I pulled the breaks on it. I have another big story in the works, and I don't want to get distracted writing this one when all I got is an itch, not a clear plan. I'm not pulling another It's the Little Things, which was just a WIP but turned into a three-part series lol.
So you can clearly see where I changed paths and cut it off.
Hope you guys still like it :)
Let me escape in your arms
Baby I'm yours, baby I'm yours
Love don't come easy at all
I miss you so much, I miss you so much
Tell me, is this freedom, baby?
Chasing after danger, making my heart race, woah
Zoro stumbles over the last obstacle, but manages to hit the buzzer before the timer goes off.
The crowd erupts in cheers and the commentators exclaim in joy, but Zoro simply steps down from the tower. Nobody approaches him like they did with the other Warriors. Nobody claps him in the back.
Sanji scowls at the screen and turns off his TV.
Zoro's been all over the news lately since he's the only Warrior to complete American Ninja Warrior's Final Stage and head off to Mount Midoriyama. There's great hype about him winning the title for America for the first time since the show started and everyone seems to be ignoring the fact that Zoro was born in Japan. He's a citizen, that's all people care about.
There haven't been any comments about their breakup. Zoro is too intimidating to ask and Sanji hasn't spent too much time outside of his house since it happened five weeks ago.
He glances at his phone and sighs when he sees three missed calls from Nami. She's worried. They're all worried. He hasn't visited any of his restaurants, he hasn't gone out for a walk—hell, he hasn't even gotten off his bed in two days.
Why does it even matter? It's not like Sanji has a reason to look good anymore. He tried his best and it still wasn't good enough for Zoro.
But what did he expect? Just like Icarus, he flew too close to the sun and got burned for it.
Maybe if the stars align, maybe if our worlds collide
Maybe on the dark side we could be together, be together
Maybe in a million miles, on a highway through the stars
Someday soon we'll be together
Nami told him not to date the other man. She told him not to get his hopes up. But what was he supposed to do when Zoro walked inside the Baratie?
He had planned to simply ask for an autograph. He's been a fan of Zoro's ever since he was in college, when the internet exploded with the news that a twenty-one year old had defeated Dracule Mihawk. Zoro is the man who sparked his sexual awakening, and when Sanji sat down in front of him, he couldn't help but remember all of the fantasies he ever had about the other man.
He thought he would die of embarrassment when he blurted out how much he wanted to take Zoro out on a date. He thought he was in heaven when Zoro said yes.
He should've noticed that he never meant much to Zoro. Sanji was always the one who initiated everything, from their conversations to their dates and even sex. Zoro always spoke curtly to him, one word answers and if Sanji was particularly lucky that day, he would get a whole sentence. He always just jotted that down to Zoro's quietness.
Maybe Zoro just didn't want to talk to him.
Zoro is known as a terrifying man, intimidating and imposing. People always make room for him when he walks, conversations shush in his presence. He's given respect before he earns it and Sanji always felt special because he thought that out of over seven billion people in the world, Zoro chose him.
When he walked hand in hand with the other man and every eye turned their way, it always made him feel proud to have been allowed to stand next to Zoro, a man idolized and admired by millions.
He should've known it wouldn't last.
The signs were all there: Zoro's lack of interest, Zoro's protective walls, Zoro's reluctance to share.
The way he would never touch Sanji, not even when they were having sex. Sanji was always the one that had to move Zoro's hands to his own body—it was only after Sanji initiated contact that Zoro would move, fucking into him so fast, deep, and hard that he blew Sanji's mind and turned his bones to putty. The man was a god in bed.
His phone rings and Sanji ignores it. He doesn't feel like talking to Nami. Or maybe it's Robin. He glances at it and his heart jumps up to his throat when he reads Zoro's name on the screen.
Should he?
"Hello?"
Sanji Black is a fucking masochist.
"Sanji?"
Sanji closes his eyes and tries not to think of the last time Zoro said his name, cold and detached before he continued on with the words that shattered his heart…I want to break up.
"Yeah?" he chokes out, hoping Zoro can't tell over the receiver.
There's a pause, then "Are you busy?"
Yeah, he's busy eating his third pint of ice cream…well, more like drinking, since it's all melted. "Nah, I'm good," he says, hoping he sounds sincere. He doesn't know what else to say. Should he ask why he's calling?
Sanji, I made a mistake. Sanji, I miss you. Sanji, take me back. Sanji, please, I love you.
Each one sounds more impossible than the last.
"I was wondering…can you come over and pick up your stuff?"
Oh. That's right. His stuff. His best clothes and his tooth brush, not to mention his comb and his cologne. His shoes and his underwear. His favorite knife and his bests pans, his hair products and—shit, everything he moved to Zoro's place hoping Zoro would take the hint and simply ask him to live together.
"Oh, I totally forgot about that!" Sanji exclaims, a little hysterical. It sounds kind of like a sob, but Sanji hasn't cried.
Yet.
"You can just throw everything away. There's nothing important at your place."
There's such a long silence that Sanji thinks Zoro hung up on him.
"I still need my key."
Sanji squeezes his eyes shut and bites down on his knuckles, fighting down the tears that threaten to escape. Fuck. Fuck. Holy shit, he rather die than let Zoro hear him cry.
"Yeah," he forces out. "I'll come by and drop it off."
"Thanks."
Zoro hangs up and Sanji throws his phone at the wall, cursing when it shatters into a dozen pieces.
It's such a metaphor for his heart.
He was a dreamer at heart
Chasing the stars, chasing the stars
Wings spread to the sun
I miss you so much, I miss you so much
Tell me, is this freedom, baby?
Chasing after danger, making my heart break, woah
He showers. He puts on his best jeans, the ones that make his legs look miles long, and the blue Henley that fits him like a second skin.
His hair is brushed to complete shininess, his breath minty fresh, and he smells just slightly of nicotine but mostly of sandalwood and musk.
He wipes his sweaty hands on his jeans, takes a deep breath, and knocks on Zoro's door. He hears soft steps on a wooden floor and smooths his expression into something indifferent and unconcerned just as Zoro opens the door.
"Hey."
"Your key," Sanji says without preamble, handing the man his key.
Zoro takes it slowly and hesitates before speaking. "Are you sure you don't want your stuff?"
Zoro's polite. He's kind, too. People don't know, but Sanji noticed. He's considerate. He's stubborn and overly blunt, but overall, he's one of the kindest people Sanji has ever met.
The man just wants to get rid of Sanji's memory. And it makes sense to do that after you break up with someone.
"Yeah, sure," Sanji answers quietly.
Zoro steps back and leads the way back to his bedroom. Well, he leads the way to his bathroom, but Sanji already knows about the man's sense of direction, so he simply walks to the bedroom.
His stuff is on Zoro's bed. His suits are all perfectly and carefully laid out in their bags, his shoes on the floor, his toiletries in a square box.
"I think there's still some clothes left," Zoro says quietly, the blush on his face for getting lost already fading. "You can go check."
Sanji simply nods, avoiding Zoro's gaze.
He looks fine. No different than any other day Sanji came here. Well, Zoro is speaking more than usual, that's surprising. He hasn't stared at Sanji's ass or anything like that. Well, Zoro was never like that. Even with Sanji naked, Zoro sometimes would look away.
He finds one suit in Zoro's closet, one of the first ones he brought over. With his stuff gone, Zoro's closet looks a lot cleaner; less cluttered.
That's how Zoro's life is. It's clean and tidy, everything with a place where it belongs.
Sanji never had that. He never felt like he had a place in Zoro's life. He was always wedging his way in, always making up excuses for Zoro's apathy. Maybe it's just Sanji that he doesn't care about.
Then why did he say yes? Why did he always say yes to Sanji?
He notices Zoro's suitcase halfway full and remembers that Zoro has to travel to Japan for the Nationals.
"I saw you in the finals."
Zoro glances at him and Sanji bites his lip, cursing himself out for speaking. Shit, Zoro already knows what an amazing athlete he is, he doesn't need Sanji to remind him. Maybe Zoro got tired of Sanji always fan-girling over all of his accomplishments.
"You were great," he mutters, turning his attention back to his stuff.
"Thanks."
Ha, so they're back to one word answers. Great.
"Yeah. You'll do great in Japan, I know it."
Zoro doesn't answer, and Sanji takes that as his cue to leave.
Everything of Sanji's will be gone from Zoro's life, as if it never existed.
All of his love, so easily erased.
Maybe if the stars align, maybe if our worlds collide
Maybe on the dark side we could be together, be together
Maybe in a million miles, on a highway through the stars
Someday soon we'll be together
Zoro wins. He's bleeding from a cut on his forehead and scowling as he rotates his right shoulder, clearly injured, but he won.
Sanji's hands ache to touch him, to soothe his pain and whisper praise in his ear. If he were still allowed, Sanji would be standing there, next to him, proud.
He turns off the TV and fixes his tie on the mirror. His hair is perfectly parted, his suit perfectly tailored. He looks good. He stinks of nicotine.
Nami and Robin smile when he joins them and they talk about everything and anything. No one mentions Zoro's name. People approach him to compliment him, but nobody mentions his name. The TV above is turned off. No one's taking a chance.
They all know.
But they don't understand, not like Sanji does.
It hurts, but it's not like he can't bear to listen to Zoro's name. It's not like he doesn't want to think of the other man. It's not like he wants to forget. He was waiting for the shoe to drop, for the bubble to burst, for the clock to strike midnight.
Six months isn't so bad, after all. He wonders what he did to make Zoro last that long with him. Maybe if he knew, he would have done it better to keep him for longer.
If only he knew.
He tried to be good. He tried to please him. He can still remember the taste of desperation in his mouth as he watched Zoro lose interest slowly but surely.
Sanji, I want to break up.
The words didn't come as a surprise. Maybe that's why he didn't break down in front of Zoro when he heard them. Maybe that's why he was able to act cool and collected until Brook dropped Zoro off at his apartment. His friend offered to stay with him, but Sanji had sent him away.
But it was good while it lasted. It was great. He has bittersweet memories, more bitter than sweet, but they help him fall asleep.
It always hurts when he wakes up, but it gets easier.
Never better, but easier.
We'll be together, we'll be together
We'll be together, we'll be together
We'll be together, we'll be together
We'll be together, we'll be together
Sanji is in bed when Zoro calls him. He's not sleepy in the least, but he is exhausted. He's been working longer hours, keeping his body and mind busy.
He debates not answering the phone. But Sanji has always been a sucker for 'what ifs' and his whole body thrums with excitement when he sees Zoro's name on the Caller ID.
Zoro is probably just calling because Sanji forgot something at his place.
He still answers.
He can't really understand what Zoro says, though. His voice is slurred and thick, hiccups cutting through every sentence. He's drunk. Sanji has never seen Zoro drunk, though he knows how much Zoro drinks. Zoro drinks like Sanji smokes, which is to say a fucking lot, but the most Sanji ever saw was a buzzed Zoro.
It's enough to make him worry and, without thinking, rushes to Zoro's place.
They say only children and drunks are honest, so it must mean something that Zoro called him, right?
Zoro still keeps a key hidden under the mat.
He's passed out on the couch, the TV's bright light illuminating his prone form.
There are dozens of beer cans on the coffee table and an empty bottle of vodka slipping from Zoro's slack fingers.
Sanji turns off the television and gently checks on Zoro. His breathing and pulse is fine, he's just asleep.
Zoro is heavy, a body made of nothing but hard muscle, but Sanji manages to drag him to his room. Zoro mutters something, but doesn't really wake up. He simply rolls over and settles deeper into his warm bed.
Sanji cleans up the beer cans, emptying out the few ones that still have a little drink in the sink. There's a 24-pack in the fridge, but that one is untouched. Either Zoro passed out before he could get his hands on it, or he didn't get drunk enough to lose his common sense.
He should just leave.
Zoro's place is clean. Zoro's in bed. Everything is fine.
He should just leave.
He goes back to check on him instead.
He doesn't notice Zoro's open eyes until he's too close.
"Hey," Zoro whispers.
"Hey, Zoro," Sanji murmurs. "Are you feeling better?"
Zoro smiles—oh god—and lifts a hand to touch Sanji's face. "Yeah."
He kisses Sanji.
It's the first kiss he's ever given Sanji.
His mouth tastes like alcohol, but Sanji cannot completely blame it for how suddenly his head goes dizzy.
Zoro's hands tug him down and Sanji gasps when the man drags him to the bed and flips them over suddenly so that he's on top of him.
"Zoro," Sanji gasps, his body humming in pleasure when Zoro bites at his throat.
What is going on? What is happening?
"Zoro, it's me—it's Sanji."
His hands are everywhere. He's hot and eager, his mouth and lips marking Sanji's throat. His teeth graze tender skin, his blunt nails leave red lines.
He's hard. Sanji can feel it pressing into his thigh, and when Zoro pushes his legs up and out, spreading him open, he can feel it pressing against his ass.
Oh god. Fuck. Is this how it feels to be desired?
"Zoro, it's me," Sanji whispers again, afraid that Zoro will hear him, realize who he's touching so passionately, and stop. "It's Sanji."
Zoro's hand pushes Sanji's shirt up and his pajama bottoms down.
Sanji doesn't stop him.
Not when Zoro bites his shoulder and leaves teeth marks.
Not when Zoro gets his hands on the lube he still keeps in the bedside drawer and preps Sanji.
Not when Zoro thrusts in, hard and fast, and kisses him through the slight discomfort.
Sanji doesn't stop him because even though this saccharine and warm affection is not his to own, it feels too good to give it up.
Who is the lucky person in Zoro's mind right now? Who can spark so much passion and lust inside a man Sanji only knew as cold and calculated? Who gets to see and feel this heat and this frenzied want, hear Zoro's pleasured sounds? Who gets to feel Zoro's hands pawing and roaming all over their body, starving and eager to touch?
Sanji can only hold on as Zoro fucks into him with feverish ardor. He's never felt so good, he's never been so throughly fucked and spread apart. It feels like his first time all over again, though he shared that with Zoro as well.
But that time doesn't even begin to compare to this.
"Fuck!" Zoro groans as he comes, his fingers digging into the taut skin of Sanji's hips. For once, Sanji's pleasured cries are not the loudest.
"Always so fucking perfect," Zoro murmurs, letting his head fall on Sanji's chest. His hips are still softly grinding into Sanji despite his orgasm, his erection slowly hardening again.. "God, I love you."
Whose love is Sanji stealing?
"I love you, too," Sanji whispers.
It'll only be for tonight.
Maybe if the stars align, maybe if our worlds collide
Maybe on the dark side we could be together, be together
Maybe in a million miles, on a highway through the stars
Someday soon we'll be together
He startles awake.
For one blessed moment, everything is familiar.
The soft ache in his back; the soft covers under him; Zoro's scent on the bed.
And then he meets Zoro's terrified gaze and everything crashes down.
"What are you doing here?" Zoro exclaims. He's not even in the bed anymore. He jumped off as soon as he woke up and realized Sanji was sharing it.
Sanji smirks—it's what he does best: smirk and mock. "What, don't you remember?" Doesn't he?
Of course he doesn't. He was drunk out of his mind.
"I—I thought—."
"You were pretty eager," Sanji keeps going, ignoring Zoro's stammering excuse. "I sure never got you that excited. I'm just curious about something—were you fucking him when we were together?"
Zoro frowns. "What?"
"Or is it a woman?" Sanji questions.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Zoro snaps. "There's no one else."
Liar.
"Well, someone got you pretty horny last night," Sanji shrugs.
He's doing well—so well. He sounds normal. He just wants to know who it was that replaced him, that managed to do what Sanji worked for and hoped for so badly.
"Well, yeah, you," Zoro says, completely unaware of the way Sanji's heart stops.
"What?"
"I knew it was you—well, I didn't know it was you, it was more like I was dreaming about…" Zoro stops talking suddenly, blushing. "Sorry about that," he finishes with a mumble.
No, that's not it. That can't be it.
"But you…broke up with me," Sanji mumbles, confused. "You broke up with me."
Suddenly, he's startling aware of the fact that he's naked under the covers. It makes him feel so open and vulnerable and he grasps at the sheets to cover his bare chest.
"You left me," he continues. "Why are you lying to me?"
"I'm not lying—."
"You are!" Sanji snaps, his anger flaring. "You threw me away! I tried so hard to be good for you and it was never fucking enough! You didn't even give me an explanation, you didn't even tell me what I did wrong. You just fucking left me and then you said…you said…"
I love you. Zoro said it clear as day. That wasn't meant for Sanji, right?
"I didn't leave you," Zoro snaps back, his brows creasing. "I just thought it would be best to break things off before you wasted your time with me. You deserve a lot better than—."
"Don't you dare pull that fucking bullshit on me!" Sanji yells and yes, now his anger decides to show up. About fucking time. "You don't get to fucking decide for me, you got that? I want you, I love you, and I fucking want to be with you. So don't you dare tell me that you did this for me. Because I sure as hell didn't want you to break my heart like this."
Zoro blinks at him, confusion clouding his eyes. "I…I don't get you…what do you want from me? What can I give you? What do I have that you could possibly want?"
And it's so clear how Sanji just suddenly understands.
It's not that Zoro doesn't see Sanji, it's that he doesn't see himself.
How did he not notice? If he claims to love Zoro so much, how come he didn't see? He should have known, he should have seen the signs.
The apathy, the disinterest, the detachment, and coldness…none of that was ever directed at Sanji.
He was so worried about being good enough for Zoro, he never stop to reassure Zoro he was good enough for Sanji.
More than enough.
"Zoro, come here," Sanji whispers and opens his arms when Zoro hesitates.
Slowly, hesitantly, Zoro joins him. His arms wrap around Sanji and when Sanji drags him down on the bed, he fits perfectly on top of him.
"You can give me this," Sanji says, letting his fingers play with Zoro's hair. "Tell me you love me. Touch me. Kiss me. That's all you need to do."
Zoro lifts his head and meets Sanji's gaze. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah." Sanji smiles and gives him a soft kiss. It's tender and slow, but when Sanji pulls back, Zoro keeps it going.
"If you want me to stay, just tell me you love me."
Maybe if the stars align, maybe if our worlds collide
Maybe on the dark side we could be together, be together
Maybe in a million miles, on a highway through the stars
Someday soon we'll be together
"Sanji, I love you."