When they manage to convince Zoro to join them in the Omegadome, it doesn't occur to Sanji that Zoro might not fully understand what “hunting” probably means in this context. Anything to do with the Diamond Suit usually boils down to lust and sex, after all, and even still, if they're going to choose a game, this one just seems preferable over risking whatever the other suits have planned. Needing sex is easy compared to what the other suits can do, in Sanji's opinion.
It's not until after they've had their hands stamped and entered into the lush. dense greenery of the conservatory that it becomes apparent that the game isn't quite what their crewmate is expecting. Sanji frowns thoughtfully, glancing over at Zoro, then at Nami, his hand already rifling through his pockets for a cigarette and his lighter, ready to open his mouth and make a comment that's only a little teasing, but it’s too late for that.
All it takes is that one breath. Sanji breathes and it leaves his head spinning, leaves him momentarily reeling at how damn good Nami smells. He wants to groan as it seeps into him, somehow sliding under his skin and leaving him shuddering. It's both just like how she normally smells– like orange blossoms and fresh paper and a hint of rum– and not, a hundred times more intense and filled with a spice that appeals to some primal, unnamed part of him that has yet to finish fully forming.
He blinks– blinks and shivers– as the other part hits him. If she smells like that, there's no way other people won't be after her, and won't want her all to themselves. And while he lacks that feeling of rage that Zoro's experiencing, that selfish, possessive part of him that so rarely comes out screams at him to keep her safe.
Safe and his. No, he realizes, glancing over at Zoro as his handle settles on Nami's back, not his. Theirs.
His head dips forward in a decisive nod as he meets Zoro's gaze, eyes filled with concern and dedication. “Yeah,” he voices his agreement, his arm wrapping tight around Nami's shoulders as he glares at the surroundings, just in case anyone happens to be lurking nearby. “Good idea. We don't let anyone near us, yeah? Keep each other safe.” The logical part of Sanji's brain could argue that none of them are in any real danger– and it would be right– but the protective, possessive part urges him to stop anyone who might try to take her away from them.
Even with Nami's scent filling his head– fuck, she smells so damn good– he manages to keep a sharp eye out, nodding again when Zoro asks about a base. Not that the swordsman cares what he thinks, and while the blase way he charges forward without waiting for an answer would irritate him, it helps that he's in agreement, that most of his attention is divided between stealing glances at Nami and looking for even a single leaf out of place.
As soon as they're inside the cabin, Sanji reluctantly lets go of Nami– though not before squeezing her shoulders and brushing a kiss against her temple, murmuring a breathless compliment about how good she smells– to actually lock the door and then look for the biggest, heaviest piece of furniture he can find. There's a chest of drawers from a nearby bedroom that looks like it'll do the trick. “Hey,” he calls over to Zoro, bending to grab one side. “Get in here and gimme a hand? We can block the door with these.”
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It's not until after they've had their hands stamped and entered into the lush. dense greenery of the conservatory that it becomes apparent that the game isn't quite what their crewmate is expecting. Sanji frowns thoughtfully, glancing over at Zoro, then at Nami, his hand already rifling through his pockets for a cigarette and his lighter, ready to open his mouth and make a comment that's only a little teasing, but it’s too late for that.
All it takes is that one breath. Sanji breathes and it leaves his head spinning, leaves him momentarily reeling at how damn good Nami smells. He wants to groan as it seeps into him, somehow sliding under his skin and leaving him shuddering. It's both just like how she normally smells– like orange blossoms and fresh paper and a hint of rum– and not, a hundred times more intense and filled with a spice that appeals to some primal, unnamed part of him that has yet to finish fully forming.
He blinks– blinks and shivers– as the other part hits him. If she smells like that, there's no way other people won't be after her, and won't want her all to themselves. And while he lacks that feeling of rage that Zoro's experiencing, that selfish, possessive part of him that so rarely comes out screams at him to keep her safe.
Safe and his. No, he realizes, glancing over at Zoro as his handle settles on Nami's back, not his. Theirs.
His head dips forward in a decisive nod as he meets Zoro's gaze, eyes filled with concern and dedication. “Yeah,” he voices his agreement, his arm wrapping tight around Nami's shoulders as he glares at the surroundings, just in case anyone happens to be lurking nearby. “Good idea. We don't let anyone near us, yeah? Keep each other safe.” The logical part of Sanji's brain could argue that none of them are in any real danger– and it would be right– but the protective, possessive part urges him to stop anyone who might try to take her away from them.
Even with Nami's scent filling his head– fuck, she smells so damn good– he manages to keep a sharp eye out, nodding again when Zoro asks about a base. Not that the swordsman cares what he thinks, and while the blase way he charges forward without waiting for an answer would irritate him, it helps that he's in agreement, that most of his attention is divided between stealing glances at Nami and looking for even a single leaf out of place.
As soon as they're inside the cabin, Sanji reluctantly lets go of Nami– though not before squeezing her shoulders and brushing a kiss against her temple, murmuring a breathless compliment about how good she smells– to actually lock the door and then look for the biggest, heaviest piece of furniture he can find. There's a chest of drawers from a nearby bedroom that looks like it'll do the trick. “Hey,” he calls over to Zoro, bending to grab one side. “Get in here and gimme a hand? We can block the door with these.”