They didn’t speak about it. Not initially at least. The wounds were still too raw and pained for either of them to meaningfully talk. No, instead they fell together the way they always had.
It was a tsunami of longing buried deep inside that broke through the moment they were alone. Zoro had healed, Wano had been saved, and Sanji was not the monster he feared he could become. The major concerns in life could be put on pause for this moment. For now all that really occupied Sanji’s thoughts was the pair of lips consuming him with the same ferocity the pair usually fought.
“You’re an ass,” Sanji grit out between silent gasps as Zoro’s hands tugged at his robe, pulling the fabric both tight against the curve of his skin and tearing to reveal the skin underneath. His back arched up to press further against the swordsman, the need to feel becoming more desperate.
“Yup.” Zoro popped the last consonant as he lips trailed further down Sanji’s chest. The cook could feel his body turning red at the feeling. This was by no means the first time the pair had found themselves intertwined like this, but after all that had happened, after Whole Cake Island, this felt different.
Zoro’s hands gripped against his skin, holding so tightly Sanji wondered what was going through his mind. His one eye was darker than usual as he softened his kisses down to his hips. With one hand, Sanji brushed back green hair, lavishing in the feeling of those locks in his hand. It hadn’t been all that long, but long enough that Sanji still had missed this feeling, missed Zoro.
The first few times they had fallen together like this it had been extensions of their fights. Flurries of kicks and swords turned into torn clothes and curses between hushed moans and sighs. Somewhere in the middle of it all it changed, kisses no longer a crash of teeth but a wordless promise of devotion. So when those three words fell from Sanji’s lips not long ago, it was no surprise.
What was a surprise, though, was being whisked away into the nightmare he thought he had escaped. Though he had resolved to marry Pudding for the safety of his loved ones, any talks of marriage had only brought to mind the pig-headed swordsman he loved.
It was a miracle to escape, a miracle to find each other in Wano, a miracle that they won. Even if for a moment Sanji had thought he was a monster, they were here now together, safe and healed.
Sanji was brought back to the moment as he felt Zoro nose against the base of his cock, tongue wet against his hard length. Carding his fingers through the swordsman’s hair, Sanji let his head drop back as he felt wet warmth surround him. He could feel Zoro’s mouth and tongue moving against him, the pleasure from it all rolling through his body.
The three words sighed out of him again, a soft, “I love you.”
“I know. I love you too, but don’t pull any of the shit you pulled the last few weeks again,” Zoro’s voice was clear, a tad harsh but understanding.
“Wait what?” Sanji’s head snapped back up to see that Zoro’s mouth still occupied with giving the blonde the best head of his life.
“I said,” Zoro was quickly shushed with a halfhearted kick to his ribs.
“I heard what you said,” Sanji’s voice was still strained and breathy as heat spread through his body, half of his mind focused on the feeling of Zoro around him, the other half more concerned with—“You talked while blowing me.”
Raising one eyebrow, Zoro continued, “Yeah? And?”
The cook couldn’t help but stay silent for a moment before bursting out into laughter. Of course Zoro would do this and see nothing odd about the situation. After all, he was the man who was known for holding full conversations in the heat of battle with the sword in his mouth--what was so different about this? He had always been so straightforward and direct, with a touch of endearing stupidity behind it all. It was part of what Sanji had come to love about him, the opposite of all the hemming and hawing the blonde would do over any situation. Still, he couldn’t help but find it all funny.
Zoro came off, crawling up until he was leaning over the giggling Sanji. “It’s not funny,” his mouth turned into a forced pout as their hands intertwined.
“It is incredibly funny, moss head,” Sanji gave his calloused palm a squeeze as he wiped away the tears that had formed. Once they had started, though, it was hard for them to stop. So much had been set aside as emotions to deal with later and Sanji supposed that the ‘later’ had finally come.
“Don’t scare me again,” Zoro threw his body down beside Sanji with a groan, “You fucking idiot.”
“I won’t.” It was a promise, soft and sacred, a promise Sanji wasn’t sure he could keep but one he would die trying to protect.
After all their time together, Zoro had learned Sanji well enough now to know, his free hand pulling the cook on top of him into a crushing hug, “If you wanna get yourself into some deep shit again, you’re bringing me with you. I’m not letting you run off and play the fucking hero without me.”
Sanji pressed his face against the crook of Zoro’s neck, the tears turning to laughter again. Every love confession or romantic gesture from him had always been like this, under the guise of competition or arguments. But by now, Sanji knew better. He knew what Zoro had meant, knew the pain that he had put his lover through the past few weeks, knew he would never be able to apologize enough for it.
But they wouldn’t talk about it, not now, not when they were both too painfully turned-on and emotional to do much else than spend the night tossed in bedsheets and loving one another. In the morning, perhaps they would talk then. Or, as Sanji thought by morning when Zoro had fallen asleep against him, that there would be no need for words.
They both knew and loved each other too much to argue this out, both were alive and together—and in the end, that’s all that mattered.