Chapter 2 – Suck It

Sanji

Since they'd met months ago, there had been many times Sanji had felt an urgent desire to put his hands around Zoro's thick neck and squeeze. This wasn't one of those times. No, this time he wanted to slit Zoro's thick neck open and watch the life drain out of him. He'd even spent a solid 45 minutes crawling around on his hands and knees and feeling up the walls, looking for any particularly sharp shards of rock. Alas, to no avail. And that was yesterday.

Today? Today he'd entered a semi-catatonic state in which time didn't matter and he was simply existing, like a leaf floating down a stream. This state could not quite erase the bone-chilling cold, intense cigarette cravings, and his admittedly overactive but currently inconvenient libido. But at least he wasn't raging against the unbelievably sluggish passing of time.

And what had Zoro been doing throughout Sanji's exploration of the various states of consciousness? He'd been sleeping.

He was still sleeping.

He surely had some sort of sleep disorder…on top of all the other disorders he clearly already had.

But then Sanji caught a flicker of moment out of the corner of his eye. Was it finally time? Perhaps it was a false alarm; it wouldn't be the first time. But no, there was a groan, and a yawn, and were those eyes fluttering open?

As Sanji fought his way back to full consciousness, those eyes settled on Sanji and blinked.

"What's up with you? You look creepy as fuck staring into space like that."

That did it. Sanji came back to himself in a sudden snap and seethed. Just looked at Zoro's stupid, clueless face and seethed.

"You've been asleep for three days!"

Zoro blinked in surprise. "No shit. I must've been more tired than I thought."

Sanji fisted his hands so hard his nails cut into his palms. "That's all you have to say?"

"What else would I be saying?" Zoro stretched his neck nonchalantly. "I was asleep, now I'm awake. The end."

Sanji stood up and started pacing in rage. Well, shuffle-pacing, with his legs chained hip-width apart and all. But he put all of his fury into those shuffles.

"Do you have any idea what the last three days have been like for me?" Sanji raged.

Zoro, looking very unconcerned, braced himself against the wall to push himself up. "Who cares?"

Sanji fisted his hands in his hair, gripped it hard at the roots. Really, he didn't know what else he'd been expecting from Zoro. It was like talking to a brick wall. A dumb brick wall. Getting angry at a dumb brick wall for being a dumb brick wall as a pointless as banging his head against that dumb brick wall – it'd only end up hurting him.

He took in deep, calming breaths to mixed success as he watched Zoro walk around the cell, taking stock of his surroundings. There wasn't much to see. They were in a 20 x 10 foot cell, with the bars strangely on the 20-foot side so it felt like they were wild animals in an exhibit. The door to the room the cell was in was on their right, with another cell of the same shape and size about 8 feet across from them. They had one single window, 2 x 3 feet, 7 feet up the 10-foot wall furthest from the door. The bars on the window and the cell were made of pure iron – Sanji had tested them with every resource at his disposal which, with his legs chained, didn't amount to much. He watched as Zoro tested the bars with his foot.

Good luck to him, Sanji thought as he huffed in derision. As if Zoro could do fuck all with his legs.

"You look out the window?" Zoro asked distractedly as he pushed at the bars with his other foot.

"Of course. Nothing out there but ice and rock and a sheer drop of at least 200 feet. Which, along with the obviously hand-shorn rock walls, ceilings, and floors, leads me to believe we're inside a mountain. My assessment is that escape is highly improbable."

Zoro gave up on the bars and turned to face Sanji. "No need to go to that much effort. Luffy and the others will be here soon enough."

"But they don't know where we are!" Sanji yelled in frustration. "I don't even know where we are! What island are we even on? It was summer where we were!"

Zoro shrugged. "So, it might take them a bit longer."

"It's already been three days, though I'm sure it doesn't feel that way to you," Sanji spat.

Zoro rolled his eyes. "Can you let that go already? Geez."

Sanji took some more deep, calming breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Isn't that how it went? It was sort of working. Now that the urge to slit Zoro's throat had receded, he was able to consider other factors. Such as the fact that Zoro was still pretty badly injured from whatever mysterious, grievous injury had befallen him at the hands of Kuma on Thriller Bark. That had only been just over a week ago. He'd probably needed the sleep.

It was easy to forget Zoro had essentially been in a coma such a short time ago, because Zoro never once let on that he was still injured. Fucking typical Zoro, bearing everything in stoic silence. It frustrated Sanji to no end that Zoro wouldn't accept help, but as a matter of pride he understood completely. And so, he wouldn't bring it up with Zoro. He'd just get his head bitten off for his troubles. But it did leave him feeling somewhat more charitable towards him for his three-day abandonment.

Sanji flinched. He didn't feel abandoned. He didn't know where that had come from. Feeling abandoned by Zoro would mean he'd…missed his presence, or something. And that just couldn't be true. His entire world would stop making sense if he started missing Zoro, especially when he'd been right there the whole time. If anything, he should be relieved to have had three days reprieve from him.

Fuck. Had he missed Zoro?

He looked over to Zoro only to see him bending over at the waist and attempting to rub his face with his knee while balancing precariously on the other leg. He looked like an idiot. There was no way Sanji had missed that.

As if he could feel Sanji's stare, Zoro stopped and looked up at Sanji. "What?" He asked defensively.

Sanji said nothing, just looked at him.

"My nose itches, okay?" Zoro said even more defensively.

Sanji closed his eyes and sighed, a sigh that came from the deepest depths within him. Knowing Zoro was still injured and why could be the only reasonable explanation for what he was about to do.

He shuffled over to Zoro and stood silently in front of him. Talking would only make this worse. Zoro straightened up slowly, looking suspicious.

They stood looking at each other for a few moments before Sanji took a deep breath and plunged in. "Where?"

Zoro's eyes widened. "What?"

"Where?" Sanji demanded.

Zoro's eyes blinked rapidly in surprise. "Uhh…left side."

Sanji's hand felt as heavy as lead as he raised it to Zoro's face and…scratched his nose. Zoro looked as shocked as Sanji had ever seen him, which was sort of gratifying, except he'd just willingly touched Zoro – helped him, even – so that vastly overshadowed any small gratification he might have felt.

"Better?" He demanded. It fucking better be.

"Yeah. Um…thanks," Zoro ventured tentatively.

Sanji scoffed in his face and shuffled away. "Don't make it weird."

"Fuck you! I was just trying to be nice," Zoro argued.

"Well, don't. It's creepy."

"Fuck off, you're the creepy one! Touching my nose out of the blue like that," Zoro yelled, leaning in closer.

"You should feel lucky that you got to experience even the most fleeting touch of these talented hands!" Sanji yelled back, ignoring how he was leaning in right back. "Women have begged for the privilege!"

"The only thing women have ever begged you to do is go away!"

"I wish I could go away right now and never see your ugly face again!" Sanji fumed.

"At least I -"

"You guys planning on going much longer? I've got stuff to do."

Sanji and Zoro sprung back from each other so fast they almost toppled over. Sanji whipped his head around to the cell opening only to see the regular old, pudgy guy who always brought him food and water standing there, looking very beleaguered.

Sanji sighed. "Let me guess – you've been there a while?"

Old guy nodded. "Long enough to see you scratch Pirate Hunter Zoro's nose. That was real nice of you, Eyebrows. I knew you'd come around!"

Sanji said nothing, only shuffled to the wall and rested his weary head on it in despair. There had been a witness.

"You can just call me Zoro, you know," he heard Zoro say from behind him.

"Wow, really, Pir – ah, Zoro? In that case you can call me Bob."

Sanji turned around to see Bob beaming proudly. "Your name's Bob?"

Something must have come through in his tone, or maybe it was the look on his face, because Bob immediately got defensive.

"What? It's a good, solid name, Bob is."

"Don't mind him, Bob," Zoro replied. "He's just grumpy because he was lonely while I was asleep."

Sanji would've shouted a rebuttal but Zoro had just hit a bit too close to what he'd previously been adamantly denying, so he felt himself turn red instead. Damn it.

"Yeah, he did cut quite a sad figure in there, shuffling about on his lonesome, muttering to himself," Bob agreed.

Zoro looked at Bob in what could only be described as glee. "Talking to himself, you say?

"Okay!" Sanji clapped his hands together and smiled brightly. "That's quite enough of that now, Bob, old friend."

Bob sniffed. "Well, I wouldn't say that we was friends…"

Sanji felt his smile start to crack. He didn't dare look at Zoro.

"Are we friends, Bob?" Zoro asked, the bastard.

Bob grinned, showcasing his missing front tooth. "I'd be honoured to call you friend, Pira- err, Zoro."

Sanji turned back to the wall and rested his head in against it defeat once more. "Just bring us our lunch, Bob."

"Alright, alright, hold ya horses, Eyebrows," Bob grumbled.

Sanji heard the click of a gun being primed then the sound of the door to the cell being unlocked.

"Now I hate to pull a gun on a friend, but I'm sure you can understand the situation, Zoro," Bob explained.

Sanji, used to the gun being pulled while Bob brought in the fresh water and food, didn't bother to turn around. He liked this wall. This wall didn't call him Eyebrows.

"I'll be very understanding if you bring me some liquor," Zoro drawled.

Sanji turned around as he heard Bob close and lock the door, only to see an apologetic grimace on his face as he looked at Zoro. "Well, you see, our crew don't drink alcohol."

Zoro gaped at him. Sanji grinned. Finally, Zoro was being denied something he loved. Sanji hadn't had a cigarette in three days.

"What kind of self-respecting pirates don't drink alcohol?" Zoro questioned incredulously.

Bob looked embarrassed by Zoro's censure. "It just so happens that our captain ate the Spark Spark Fruit. So, sparks jump out of her hands whenever she touches anything. Real handy for lighting fires and such. Not so much when you're doing a bit of drinking. Burned our last hideout down. Since then, we don't have much around that can catch fire easy."

Well, that explained why the hideout was carved out of a mountain.

Zoro looked aghast. "Surely no Devil Fruit power in the world is worth not being able to drink alcohol. That's just…uncivilised."

"Aw, now it ain't so bad as that!" Bob insisted. "I reckon the years of no liquor has kept me looking young as a daisy! Wouldn't you agree, lads?"

Bob put his hands on his hips and beamed. Sanji took in his gap-toothed, browning smile, pot belly, hairs sticking out of his nose, gnarled tan skin, and generous bald patch.

"How old are you exactly?" He asked.

"I'm 49 years young!" Bob replied proudly.

He looked about 76. But all Sanji said was, "You don't look a day over 35." This man was the one bringing them food, after all.

Zoro, always slow on the uptake, frowned and said, "Really, because -"

"You think he looks even younger than that, I know!" Sanji interrupted loudly with a boisterous laugh.

Zoro looked over at him in disbelief. Sanji tried to give off a 'just work with me' expression but since he'd never made anything approaching that expression at Zoro before, he wasn't sure if Zoro would pick up what he was throwing down.

But Zoro must have finally clocked on because just cleared his throat and said, "Err…yeah."

Bob laughed and started walking towards the door. "See, boys! Some sober living in prison will do you some good! Just you wait!"

He exited with a cheery salute.

Every time Sanji spoke to that man, he felt himself losing a brain cell.

Zoro groaned beside him, "No alcohol! What fresh hell is this?"

"The same hell that has you in it but no cigarettes or beautiful women," Sanji snapped.

Zoro moved towards the food tray and water bucket on the floor. "Whatever, I'm too hungry to argue."

"It has been three days since you've eaten," Sanji said pointedly.

Zoro squinted at him. "Why're you still so hung up on that?"

Sanji cleared his throat for lack of a response. He didn't know why he couldn't let it go, but it wasn't because he'd been lonely or missed Zoro. There was some other explanation…it just hadn't come to him yet, is all.

"Because you're an idiot," was all he could come up with on the fly. Zoro snorted in response, unimpressed. That was fair; Sanji could admit it wasn't his best work.

Zoro turned his attention back to the food and stared at it. Then asked the one question Sanji had been mentally avoiding since Bob had first uttered the words 'feed him and stuff' three days ago.

"So, how am I supposed to eat that?"

Five minutes later and all Sanji and Zoro had accomplished was allowing the food to rapidly cool in the frigid air. It wasn't anything special, just bread, meat, and an unidentifiable green vegetable, yet it had them completely stumped.

Though if Sanji was being completely honest with himself, he wasn't stumped. He knew exactly what he needed to do; he just hadn't yet worked up the courage to do it. But Zoro didn't need to know that. Let him think Sanji was wrestling with a decision he'd actually made the moment the words of denial had left his lips three days ago.

He was going to hand-feed Zoro.

Turns out his principles as a chef outweighed his intense dislike of Zoro. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised – he fed Zoro every day as it was so that was a habit right there, albeit not with his hands. And then there was the way he couldn't get that image of Zoro standing only through sheer willpower, trembling and covered in his own blood, on Thriller Bark. That wasn't an image that was going to leave him anytime soon, nor the unaccountable, almost unmanageable fear that accompanied it.

He almost died.

Sanji physically shook his head to be free of that thought. Zoro wasn't dead, he was right there in front of him, alive and, well, if not completely well then at least on his way to it. And food would help with that. That's what this was about, nothing more. Nothing to do with fear or whatever that feeling in his gut had been when he'd awoken on Thriller Bark to find Zoro missing.

"Look, I get it, okay? I'm as against it as you are. But I don't see any other options, do you?" Zoro said and Sanji was momentarily confused before he remembered the whole shaking-his-head thing and Zoro had probably misinterpreted that as to mean he was shaking his head at the thought of feeding Zoro. He could work with that.

"If I do this, you owe me big-time," Sanji replied.

Zoro narrowed his eyes at Sanji, "Aren't you a cook, Cook? Feeding me is your job."

Sanji felt a growl rise up his throat. Of course this blockhead couldn't make it easy. "Feed you? Sure. But not literally put the food in your mouth, Mosshead. I know cavemen like you tend to eat with your hands, but in the civilised world we used these special tools called cutlery."

"Next time I get hold of some cutlery I'm going to stick it in your eyeball," Zoro threatened.

"Cavemen are so violent," Sanji murmured as if to himself but loud enough for Zoro to hear.

He could see Zoro was about to blow his gasket, which would usually fill him with joy, but it wasn't really conducive to the whole feeding thing – Zoro would likely try to bite his hand off – and he knew from experience that that food was inedible enough warm.

"Fine," he huffed, as if just coming to a decision in that moment. "I'll feed you. But don't speak to me – don't even look at me. This will be unbearable enough as it is without having to hear your voice or see your face."

"Yeah, yeah, fine," Zoro replied indifferently as he got to his knees. "So, what's the easiest way to do this?"

Something about the image of Zoro on his knees with his mouth open and Sanji standing over him to put something in it had an unexpected but familiar pressure building behind his nose and that was fucking not going to happen on his watch so, "Sit down!" he yelled abruptly.

Zoro glared at him, "You don't have to yell at me about it, Eyebrows," but sat down with his legs straight out anyway.

Sanji did some quick mental math to figure out where he should sit and unfortunately reached the conclusion that there was only one thing to do. "Spread your legs," he ordered.

Zoro raised his eyebrows but did as he said without complaint. Damn, but Zoro silently taking orders from him was heady stuff. Sanji could get used to that.

What?

Food. Right.

Sanji sunk down to his knees in front of Zoro. His chains were cutting uncomfortably into the back of his thighs but surely this wouldn't take long, just a quick in and out.

He realised his knees were pressed up against Zoro's inner thighs when he grabbed the plate and moved to rest it on Zoro's lap. That…wasn't ideal, but he supposed there was nothing for it but to press on. Zoro grunted in what Sanji could only assume was discomfort but he ignored him because the only way he'd get through this with his sanity intact is if he ignored Zoro completely.

Sanji ripped off a piece of bread from the plate on Zoro's lap, hands brushing his rock-hard stomach. This was all a little too cosy for his peace of mind.

He brought the bread up to Zoro's lips. "Open up," he ordered and immediately felt his blood boiling. He didn't know why saying those words to Zoro had that effect on him, he could only hope to all that was holy that the fire in his veins wasn't showing on his face.

Zoro, for his part, looked equally uncomfortable and squirmed a little at Sanji's order, which only served to press his groin into Sanji's knees and oh, that wasn't good…

"Stop squirming and eat, damn you!" Sanji snapped. This man was going to kill him.

Zoro opened up and Sanji pressed the food his mouth and did his damnedness to not notice the feel of Zoro's lips on his fingers and to not look at his mouth or into his eyes. This system of ignorance worked for a few more mouthfuls, but unfortunately blind feeding was messy. The second time he poked a piece of meat into Zoro's cheek, Zoro broke his resolute silence.

"Why do you suck so bad at this? The food goes in my mouth, not on my face, Cook."

Sanji could feel himself flush bright red. This was an unmitigated disaster of epic proportions. He couldn't think of a time he'd been so discombobulated. And that could be the only explanation as to why he unthinkingly swiped his thumb over Zoro's cheek to clean it.

And Zoro must have been in a similar state because that could be the only explanation as to why Zoro closed his mouth around Sanji's thumb and sucked.

Oh, fuck!

Sanji must have made some sort of noise or movement because he could see the second Zoro realised what he was doing. Unfortunately, the popping sound of him quickly removing his mouth didn't help matters at all.

Zoro blushed bright red and looked to the side. "Didn't want to waste any food," he grumbled unconvincingly.

Sanji just stared at him. He felt like every circuit in his body had shorted out. He was incapable of doing or saying anything at all.

Zoro, not getting any response from Sanji but an astonished stare, went on the defensive. "Come on, it's not a big deal. It's not like you're the first guy whose had his fingers in my mouth."

That rebooted the system real quick.

"What!" Sanji hissed. Surely Zoro couldn't mean what Sanji thought he meant. Surely not.

"What do you mean, what?" Zoro replied, still defensive.

"Why would you have a guy's fingers in your mouth?" Sanji hissed again. Something about the idea of it made him…angry.

Zoro smirked at him, "Do I really need to explain sex to you, Eyebrows?"

Sanji's world tilted off its axis. "You have sex with guys?"

Zoro shrugged, "Guys, girls, theys. Doesn't matter to me. Sex is sex."

Sanji's brain felt like it was running on pure liquid nitrogen as it recalibrated everything he thought he knew about Zoro. He didn't like the twisting in his gut that accompanied it.

"Why're you sitting there looking like a confused dumbass? It's not a big deal," Zoro said.

This was the biggest deal.

"Surely you knew I had sex," Zoro continued, sounding exasperated.

Sanji cleared his throat. "Actually, I didn't."

Zoro's brows shot up. "Wait, really?"

Sanji refused to look at him directly for this conversation they were apparently now having. "You just…never seemed interested in anyone."

Zoro scoffed. "Just because I don't make a nuisance of myself to women and get nosebleeds like you, doesn't mean I'm not interested. I'm discreet, a notion you are clearly not familiar with."

Sanji's brain kept spinning, trying to integrate this new information. "So…those times you go off wandering on islands we visit…you're not just getting lost?"

Zoro laughed and it was such a sexual, masculine laugh – low and rough – that Sanji shivered involuntarily. "Oh, I get lost. It's just I usually find someone to give me very thorough directions."

Unbelievable. Sanji had to break out every seduction strategy in the book to get a woman to even look at him some days and Zoro was just randomly finding people to have sex with whenever he went for a gander? No wonder he got lost so often if that was his reward. Sanji felt a rumbling in his chest, which he assumed was jealousy.

Over the fact that Zoro might be getting more sex than him, of course.

"Do you…" he started to ask before clamping his mouth shut. He badly needed to know but he could not voice that question on pain of death.

But it seems Zoro read him like a book anyway. He grinned evilly and taunted, "What to know if I top or bottom, Sanji?"

Fuck, he'd said his name. Zoro never said his name. Sanji trembled. Then he pressed his lips together and shook his head vigorously. No, he did not want to know that. He might need to know that, but he did not want to. There was a clear distinction.

Zoro chuckled, "If it's so important to you, I don't mind opening up." He leaned forward until his lips were near Sanji's ear and whispered, "I do both."

Sanji could swear he could feel his brain matter explode and coat the inside of his skull. What the fuck was happening. All he could think was, someone's been inside of Zoro, and that was on a never-ending loop inside what was left of his brain.

Sanji didn't know what this feeling was inside him, bubbling up through his chest. He thought anger might be a part of the maelstrom of emotions but why would that be there? Why would he be angry that Zoro had had sex with people presumably every time they'd stopped off at an inhabited island. That Zoro had had people inside him? That had nothing to do with him. Sanji had sex on those islands sometimes too. So what was the big deal?

Why did he care so much?

"Did I break you?" Zoro asked, laughing.

Sanji didn't want to admit that yes, he had. He was very broken because he was angry for no reason and his dick was twitching in his pants and that pressure behind his nose was back. This all indicated nothing he wanted to be a part of.

Zoro sighed as Sanji's silence lengthened, "Feel free to start feeding me again at any time. I've barely had anything. And actually put it in my mouth this time."

He was supposed to keep putting his fingers in Zoro's mouth now? After it'd been linked with sex? And not just sex, but sex and Zoro?

Sanji's principles as a chef warred with his desire to shuffle-run to the opposite side of the cell and never look at Zoro ever again.

Then that cursed image popped up in his brain again, the one with all the fear attached, and he sighed in defeat. And picked up another mouthful and put it in Zoro's mouth, watching fixatedly as Zoro's lips closed over his fingers.

If he was asked, he wouldn't be able to say how he got through the next ten minutes of such torture. He must have entered some kind of fugue state, similar to how he'd passed the day away. But he did remember Zoro softly saying, "That's enough now" as though he wanted to say thank you but knew it wouldn't be welcome.

Sanji hurriedly crawled over Zoro's outstretched leg – resolutely ignoring how Zoro's thigh flinched when he put his hand on it – grabbed the plate of food from his lap, and crawled another few feet away for good measure. They'd been in close proximity more than long enough.

Sanji was blindly swallowing his food – really, it was generous to even call it food – when he chanced a look over at Zoro. Only to see Zoro on his knees again, except this time with his head bent to the floor as he strained to stand.

Ass up.

Sanji choked on his food and Zoro's softly whispered I do both reverberated around his brain as he stared at Zoro's ass and was that a trickle of blood escaping his nose?

Zoro lifted his head and fixed Sanji with a bewildered stare. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Sanji buried his face in his hands to hide the tell-tale blood. "Shut up! I'm in the middle of a mental breakdown right now!"

Zoro shook his head in exasperation and bent over once again.

Sanji choked on nothing but air this time.

"What're you choking on now?" Zoro griped. "Seriously, you need to stop smoking."

"It's because I'm not smoking that I'm choking!" Sanji retorted angrily. "My lungs don't know what to do with all this clean air!"

Zoro shook his head and bent over again.

"Stop doing that!" Sanji yelled frantically.

"Stop doing what?" Zoro yelled back, blessedly raising his head again and giving Sanji some much needed relief.

Sanji surreptitiously wiped the blood from his nose on his fortunately black jacket. "Stop getting up like that! It's obscene!"

"Obscene?!" Zoro shouted, mouth agape.

"Yes! Anyone could see you!"

"The only person in here is you!"

"And that's more than enough to witness your promiscuity!"

"How is me standing up promiscuous?!"

"Just go use the damn wall to get up!" That method hadn't caused Sanji to have what felt like several mini, concurrent heart attacks.

Zoro grumbled under his breath but blessedly did what Sanji asked. When he stood up, he looked over at Sanji with a very serious expression on his face.

"You've totally cracked it."

Sanji groaned and put his head in his hands. "I know."

Zoro's expression grew even more grave. "You're agreeing with me. You've really lost it, huh."

"I just need one damn cigarette and one beautiful, buxom woman and I'll be fixed," Sanji vowed. He would accept nothing else.

Zoro started jumping up and down. Sanji narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure you're well -"

"Don't," Zoro ordered, so Sanji didn't. "I need to stay warm more than I need to rest. I've rested for three days, after all."

That was a fair point. Zoro was only in his pants, stomach warmer, and white shirt. Sanji at least had a jacket and he'd already been so cold these past three days that he was almost past noticing it anymore. It was like a dark presence at the back of his consciousness that threatened to overtake him if he lost focus. So, he focused. Except for when he tried to sleep. He couldn't maintain his focus away from the cold and fall asleep at the same time. The cold overtook him every time. So, he'd had very little sleep while Zoro had been blissfully snoring away.

Damned freak, Sanji thought spitefully, and finished his food in blessed silence.

His heartrate was returning back to normal now, and there was no pressure behind his nose, and the maelstrom in his chest had subsided, and his dick was wonderfully soft. Clearly the last 20 minutes had been some kind of prison-induced madness. A temporary madness.

He looked over at Zoro jumping up and down and his eyes caught and followed a bead of sweat running down his neck, that thick neck he so badly wanted to wrap his hands around.

And his mouth went dry.