Sanji kept tossing and turning in bed, with his back to Zoro. Even when he was still, Zoro could feel him, his breathing so faint that it was clear he was controlling it. Sanji's hand brushed against his shoulder blade. Sometimes he traced the shape of the bone with a finger or simply kept minimal contact there, a constant reminder that they were together, alone.

"I know you're awake" Sanji said after a long silence, pretending to sleep.

"And whose fault is that?"

"You didn't drink enough."

With a grunt, Zoro sat up and rubbed his face. It was dark, but the moonlight was enough to see his shape beside him, his features. Sanji was still in that mood that broke him a little, kept him off-balance, and Zoro wasn't going to take advantage of it. He had restrained himself almost since they first met, so a little longer wouldn't change anything. He reached out and gestured with his fingers for Sanji to come closer.

Zoro hoped the command was clear and that Sanji would give him his arm, but instead, he leaned forward and rested his face in Zoro's palm. Cute fucking bastard, how dare he? This was the same man who, during the day, would have kicked his head in if he brushed against him in the kitchen in front of someone else. Zoro stroked his jaw with his thumb as casually as he could manage, but the wave of devotion that hit him made him pause.

"No, you fucking idiot," Zoro laughed, unable to hold it back. "Your arm."

The response was immediate. Sanji lifted his arm and held it in the air, waiting for Zoro to take it, but he didn't move his face from Zoro's grasp. The hand suspended in the air didn't tremble. His pulse was steady and controlled. He could wait.

"And now what?" Sanji asked, suddenly more impatient.

"Hold still."

Sanji didn't question his reasons, not in the privacy of the room. There was a point to the order, and it wasn't just to enjoy the tiny ways Zoro could dominate him, from the imperceptible to the absurd. He had to be careful because they had had problems with that before, some of which Zoro completely regretted. This time, helping Sanji was what mattered, clearing his mind and restoring his confidence.

Zoro waited again— no, he made Sanji wait for him —and then finally touched him. He gripped his forearm, giving him a reward with a sweet, whispered voice, "Good boy, you did well. Now, the other arm." Sanji didn't question the wait this time, and Zoro guided his thoughts.

"It's still your body," Zoro said, showing him that he could control it, that he was holding him up on his own. "It still responds to your commands. You just need to get to know it again, to train it."

Zoro ran his fingers over the skin of Sanji's arm. The firm grip on his wrist kept the arm extended, still, with just enough pressure to make it hard for him to resist. Zoro's expression was serious, as it had been in recent months, but focused as it had been all his life. Sanji just looked at his face, not following his movements with his eyes.

"So, you're not going to develop scars?" Zoro asked.

Sanji shook his head.

"The old ones are gone too."

"What?"

"You had scars on your arm, Curly, behind your elbow. And I don't feel them any more."

"Oh" Sanji nodded, surprised, as if Zoro had told him something about himself that he hadn't known.

Zoro's inspection continued downward until he reached his wrist. He was approaching a dangerous territory because Sanji's hands had a forbidden aura. Zoro never toyed with that, just as Sanji never played with his swords.

"So, nothing bad's going to happen to your hands if…"

"You can't bite my hands."

Damn . The bastard could read him like one of Robin's fucking books.

"I just want to comfort you."

"Above the wrist."

Zoro waited a few seconds. He wanted to make sure he had understood correctly. As he brought Sanji's arm closer to his mouth, he received no complaints or objections, so he tentatively touched the area with his lips. He pressed just above the crease that connected to the hand, but a tug on the arm indicated that he was still too close. He searched higher with little sucks— these aren't kisses, that's too intimate, or at least they shouldn't be, are they kisses ?—until Sanji relaxed and accepted a spot. Zoro bit down, softly at first, savouring, pressing the flesh between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Then harder, until Sanji let out a groan, releasing all the air from his body.

In a sudden movement, Sanji got up from the bed. He turned on a dim light and stood there, in silence, contemplating the mark on his arm.

Perhaps it had been too much. Again, his self-control had failed him. Zoro commanded him to come back to bed in a tone that allowed no defiance. He took Sanji's arm again and examined the damage. The bite mark left on his skin was deeper than he had expected, even more so than others he had left on other parts of his body years ago. And Sanji had barely flinched. Zoro let go of him carefully, trying not to focus too much on the mark, on how good it had felt to create it and how beautiful it looked on him. He regained control of his desires, the appearance of responsibility in front of a fragile Sanji. But then Sanji brought his arm to his own lips and sucked on the bite mark with a dedication that bordered on the obscene.

Zoro was fucked. Totally and completely. Shitty cook, motherfucker.

"Stop." Zoro was unwavering. "Stop."

"I'm not doing anything."

"Stop" Zoro repeated, gripping his wrists again to push him away. "We have boundaries."

"But I haven't crossed any."

"I could, at any moment, and we can't."

Sanji nodded, indignant. He let himself be held until Zoro realised that it was he who wasn't breaking the contact. He pushed his arms away even further.

"You set those boundaries, Zoro. Not me."

"You need them."

"As if you know what I need."

Zoro pulled him closer. He rested his forehead against Sanji's chest and closed his eyes. The boundaries they had set weren't just for Sanji, but for himself as well. Sanji had never understood that, and there was no way to tell him that without exposing what he felt for him. They had started to build something after Water 7, something that had been slipping through their fingers, a bond that Sanji wasn't ready for but that they explored anyway, in secret, in tiny doses.

Never in front of the crew; if they played games in front of the others, it had to be ambiguous enough to go unnoticed; kissing and biting until a safe word appeared; no penetration because Sanji was so not ready for it; always prioritising Luffy's dream and their own. It worked at the time, and they walked those lines without crossing it.

Then, two years without contact, and when they met again, the bond was broken. Sanji was more repressed than ever, for reasons Zoro didn't understand, and the old rules no longer applied. He rejected all contact as if they'd never touched before, and Zoro had developed such effective self-control that he managed to convince himself it was better that way. Zoro had felt relieved. The feeling had abandoned him, lost somewhere in the first stretch of the Grand Line.

And then the feeling found him again. Perhaps it was just the wedding that awakened a latent memory and nothing more, but it was there, undeniable.

"No one has to know" Sanji insisted, still unable to touch him because Zoro kept his hands at bay, as much as the length of his arms would allow. "It worked before. Why wouldn't it work now?"

Zoro had no answer to that. That was the problem. The uncertainty.

"Curly..."

"I need this. Please."

The begging. Shit.

Shit, shit, shit...

"Fine." Zoro looked up into his eyes. "But not tonight. Turn the fucking lights off and sleep already."

Sanji beamed for a few seconds. And then, he became serious again, as if he could only hold one emotion at a time. Zoro lay back on his back, the light went out, and Sanji was back in bed with him, warm and probing for contact with more intensity than before. He let him, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Sanji leaned against his chest, as if it was nothing. Fucker. Zoro clenched his fist in his hair, burying his face.

"You do realise that Robin's going to figure this out, right?"

"She's a beautiful and intelligent woman, of course she's going to know."

"And that Luffy will too?"

"What?" Sanji's head shot up as if he'd been electrocuted.

"He knew about us."

"You told him?"

"No, one day he sneaked into the kitchen to steal something from the fridge. He said it didn't surprise him."

"You could've told me."

"And miss out on your face if he let it slip in front of the rest of the crew? Nah."

"Fucking marimo."

Sanji lay back down, muttering more insults under his breath, until his breathing evened out. The strokes in his hair must've helped him sleep, but Zoro didn't close his eyes for the rest of the night.