One Piece oneshot
Title: Pervy Pervy Pineapple
Author: Reyn
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: One Piece belongs to Oda. This storyline belongs to the talented artist, Zorosan.
Warnings: Slash.
Summary: Zoro's forced into helping Sanji cook and is less than thrilled about it.
Pervy Pervy Pineapple
The climate was tropical, the island lush with foliage and plenty of shade, and there was a nice cool breeze courtesy of the ocean. All in all, the perfect conditions for a nap.
"Oi, Marimohead. Don't you dare fall asleep. I've got work for you to do."
One lazy eye opened to glare at the cook as the subtle smell of nicotine invaded his senses.
"It'll take three days for the log pose to set," Zoro grumbled, closing his eye. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait."
There was a lengthy silence. One in which the swordsman would have liked to imagine that Sanji had given up and left without complaint. But sadly, he knew better.
"Fine, have it your way," Sanji said after several moments. "Oi, Luffy!"
Zoro scowled. Had the ero-cook truly reduced himself to tattle-telling?
"It looks like your meal is out of the question since your swordsman refuses to cooperate."
"GYEH?"
Zoro's eyes snapped open at his captain's cry.
"You'll just have to wait while I make the looong trek back to the ship to get my knives and sharpen them. Then I'll have to carefully pack them in their carrying case, which I think I lost, by the way; which means I'll have to take the time to look for that first. Then I'll have to make the looong trek back here…If I'm lucky, I'll make it back a little after dark-"
The sudden appearance of the first mate by his side - swords drawn and ready to go - allowed Sanji to put a halt to his speech; hiding the smirk that was threatening to appear by taking a drag from his cigarette.
"ZORO!" the captain called out, thoroughly pissed at the idea of a potential meal having to be missed. "Why won't you help Sanji!"
"He was only kidding, Luffy," Zoro calmly replied, pulling the black bandana off his arm and tying it around his head.
"Oh. Well, that's okay then," said the suddenly completely pacified Luffy as he went back to whatever it was he had been doing.
"Hooray! Shish kabobs for everyone!" Usopp cheered from the distance before their game recommenced.
"So what am I hunting?"
Looking as smug as can be, Sanji held up a pineapple.
"That doesn't look dangerous at all," Zoro stated critically, eyeing the odd fruit. "Go hunt those yourself."
Rolling his eyes, Sanji turned around and began to holler, "LUF-mph!"
"What are you, six?" Zoro griped, his hand firmly over the blonde's mouth.
The response was a slippery tongue running across the length of his callused palm.
Zoro cried out in disgust, pulling his hand away to wipe it on his pants, pausing only when he saw the grimace on the cook's face.
"What the hell is your problem?" he questioned.
"I think I just killed half my taste buds. Ugh, it'll take weeks of spicy meals just for me to get them back."
"Yeah, well, that's what you get for licking me in the first place, retard."
Sanji cast the oversized marimo a glare before leading the way to his self-appointed cooking station. "I don't even know where that hand has been, let alone the last time you washed it. I'm probably going to catch at least five different diseases, one of which is more than likely fatal, and I'll have no choice by to die in the arms of my lovely Nami-swan…"
Zoro simply watched as Sanji's grim pity party transformed into a love proclamation, complete with floating hearts and mellorine dance.
Deciding now was a good of a time as any to just leave (because really, who would want to work with that?), Zoro pulled off his bandana, fully ready to sneak off and just sleep under a tree, when an entire mound of pineapples was dumped before him.
"Chop these," the cook ordered, down from his lovesick high. "I need cubes about this big."
Zoro's eye twitched as he mentally measured the distance between Sanji's fingers. "My swords aren't meant for this kind of thing," he complained, readying his stance regardless.
Within seconds, pineapple pieces were flying, all perfectly proportioned and landing in a nice pile on a large flat rock nearby with the rest of the ingredients.
Fire ready, Sanji picked up a set of sticks he prepared beforehand and began skewering an array of food. As Usopp had proclaimed, he was making shish kabobs for everyone.
Falling into the easy rhythm of stab, stab, stab, stab, stab, barbeque, rotate, stab, stab, stab, stab, stab, barbeque, rotate, Sanji didn't notice the presence behind him until what could have been a the top of a moss-covered rock peered over his shoulder and effectively blocked off his peripheral vision.
"What?" he snapped, miffed that his personal space was being invaded by something lacking breasts and a vagina.
"The pineapple tastes like crap."
Sanji paused, his mind only registering one part of that sentence - tastes. Looking over at the flat rock, his fear was confirmed as, sure enough, the pile of chopped pineapples was much smaller than it should have been.
"You crap-head!" the blond cried, whirling around. "What have I told you about eating my ingredients?"
"Relax, it's not like I cleared it out like Luffy would. I just snacked on a few-"
"You ate practically all the pineapple!" Sanji interjected.
"So?"
"SO? The essence of a kabob is the pineapple! That burst of sweetness amongst meat and spices! The Nami-san amongst this burly crew of men! The sophistication of Robin-chan around you blundering idio-!"
Sanji found his tirade cut off as something sweet and extremely tangy was popped into his mouth and held there. Shocked at the potency of the taste, the blond drew back violently, only to find a large hand holding his head in place, insisting that he eat the damn thing.
When no action was taken, Zoro pushed the pineapple in deeper, his finger sliding further between supple lips.
Unable to shift his tongue around to reject the fruit, Sanji pressed it to the roof of his mouth - juices bursting and overpowering his senses. Holy crap, did that pineapple pack a punch! The potency could make even his toes curl as he was forced to suck the fruit to the back of his throat and swallow.
Dark eyes hardened as pressure around Zoro's finger increased, arousing a long forgotten pull in the pit of his stomach. Being a swordsman of his caliber, he was quick to recognize that if this went any further, he would by playing with fire, and so he slowly withdrew his finger.
"Has your palate been restored, idiot cook?"
Dazed eyes came into focus at the insult and Sanji scowled. "Fucker," he muttered, turning back to his task. Go and chop all the remaining pieces in half. And don't eat anymore."
And just like that, they were back in safe, familiar territory. The fire, however, was not gone, but simply at a safe distance.
For now.
-
Owari.