Tonight is not the night for fights
Who: Sanji baratiesbest and Zoro threesword
Where: Northern Lights
When: Nov 19, late night.
Rating: PG13-ish for ust pirates
Summary: Two pirates meet in a bar. Awkwardness ensues.
the log:
Say what you will about Sanji but if there was one thing he was an expert at it was to keep himself occupied. Whenever life got too stressful and he needed to clear his head he ( Read more... )
Where: Northern Lights
When: Nov 19, late night.
Rating: PG13-ish for ust pirates
Summary: Two pirates meet in a bar. Awkwardness ensues.
the log:
Say what you will about Sanji but if there was one thing he was an expert at it was to keep himself occupied. Whenever life got too stressful and he needed to clear his head he ( Read more... )
The cook remained silent, tried to keep his mind as clear as possible. Focused on keeping his breathing calm, tried to slow down his racing heart, counted the footsteps as they made their way over to Marshall. Anything to keep his head from spinning.
One thing you learned as a pirate on the Grand Line was that the impossible happened every day. Sailing up mountains, hunting dinosaurs, watching cherry blossoms cover the night sky of a harsh winter island, sail your ship right up into the sky where Gods and angels resided... all impossible things that still happened. He had been there, seen it all with his own eyes and that alone made it possible for him to believe in other impossibilies. All Blue. One Piece. Things that might not even exist but most certainly did because that was the way the Grand Line worked.
But this. This he couldn't believe. He hadn't even begun to process what this meant for him personally, how much he had to re-evaluate who he thought he was and hopefully he'd never have to because if this was impossible to believe then how would he ever be able to accept it in an even larger sense?
Sanji's pulse quickened as the Marshall apartment complex came into view and he fell back a little, let the swordsman take the lead. Just get it over with. Keep it professional. Treat this like they would treat any other battle plan and they'd come out of it without a scratch.
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That was logically.
Realistically, Zoro didn't know what would happen, and that completely bewildered him. He knew that beneath what his logical mindframe told him, there was far more to it. The things he was thinking... they were far beyond any thought that had ever passed through his head. Heat. Body heat and closeness and... all the things he'd never imagined craving. But underneath the farce, he found himself aching for it in the worst way.
And that just couldn't fucking happen.
It was quiet. Too quiet as they walked. Zoro wanted a drink, probably just as badly, if not more so than how much Sanji wanted a cigarette. Zoro knew that. And he knew that desire wasn't helping either of them in this case.
He felt his stomach rising into his throat as Marshall came to view. For a brief moment, he hesitated. There was no turning back from this moment, and whatever was going to come of it - though he was going to do whatever the hell was in his power to not give in to whatever the hell his body was trying to trick him with. Taking the lead, he forged forward, going into the building and heading towards the room that had become 'home.'
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At the same time he felt strangely... excited. His nerves were tingling, vibrating just like they had been when he woke up in Discedo the second time. Must be his pirate upbringing, the lust for adventure that coarsed through his veins like adrenaline. It was a nauseating mix, that dread coupled with something akin to delerious excitement. He really didn't like it.
He remained quiet as they made their way up the stairs, down the corridor, into the dark apartment. Shifted his weight a little, restless. Tried to think of something to say, an opening line, something to get the ball rolling but in the end he drew a blank. This was really too bizarre for him to grasp, which said something about the nature of the situation. Sanji, the great romantic who could never shut up about the matters of the heart, shocked into complete silence. It was sad, really.
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In that same silence, he stopped in front of the door to the apartment. And without a word, he quietly opened the door. He didn't hold the door open - Sanji would undoubtedly follow behind anyway. There was no hesitation as he headed towards the kitchen and pulled the half-empty bottle of sake from the cabinet.
Until then, he'd been trying to be civilized. Rationing the drink with glasses. Tonight was not going to be one of those nights though. The pressure that weighed him down was overbearing, and he needed something, anything to help relieve that. Something that didn't involve the corrupt thoughts in his head.
He leaned against the kitchen counter, pursing his lips and bringing the bottle to them. His eyes closed, and he held the bottle out. He knew Sanji was there, and it was his call whether or not he wanted any.
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And then that bottle was held out towards him and he couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow at the offer - in part because adding alcohol to the mix would be like trying to put out a fire with a barrel of oil and in part because he honestly didn't think the swordsman would have any left. Oh, he recognized that bottle alright.
Drinking had been a bad idea back at the bar and it was a terrible idea here but even so he accepted the offer after a moments hesitation, took a mouthful before handing it back. Just this would be alright, wouldn't it? Just enough to numb his senses, loosen his tongue.
"When..?"
Vague, but he was sure that the other man would be able to decipher that half-question. How long had this shit been going on?
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Either way, Sanji's assessment had been right. Zoro had fully understood what his question meant. Hell, it was the same questions he'd been asking himself for days now. In between his bouts of denial, he'd come to realize that he didn't quite know the answer himself.
With a shrug, he'd brought the bottle to his lips again, taking another swig of the strong liquor and shrugging his shoulders. When he pulled the bottle away, his eyes opened. For an extremely brief moment, they studied Sanji's face; it was poorly illuminated in the dark room... but somehow still captivating all the same.
As he caught his own thoughts, he averted his eyes, looking down at his own scuffed boots. His shoulders shrugged again half-heartedly.
"Tch... don't know. A couple of weeks at least."
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Short nod of acknowledgment. A few weeks... yeah, that sounded about right. The actual starting point was probably a lot earlier than that but if he had to make a guess as to when they actually started to get in trouble that would be it. Probably sometime after his second revival.
Shifting his weight again Sanji leaned against the doorframe with his arms folded over his chest. Okay. They were talking. That was as good a start as any, now they just had to... figure this shit out.
"We can't--"
He stopped himself - who was he trying to convince here? Himself or the swordsman? This wasn't anything they needed to say, it had already been clearly established. Agreed on. So why was he hesitating? All they needed to do was figure out the how, not the why. He sighed, brought up a hand to rub at his forehead.
"So how are we supposed to solve this shit?"
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His arm had draped over his leg, letting his hand rest between his thighs whilst the other ran through his short, green hair. What the fuck was he supposed to say?
Forget it? Last time he'd said that, he ended up making Umi upset. But... that was what Sanji wanted to hear, wasn't it? Based on his body language and his words alone, it was obviously what he wanted. Or at least, it was the impression he was trying to give off. And Zoro saw through it... which was only making this more difficult for him.
Despite what his body was telling him, and what his heart was screaming, he offered a shrug. There was only one answer he could give.
"Either we forget any of this is happening," He paused. His tone sounded mildly dejected at the thought. Giving up.. it was so unlike both of them. It wasn't the way of a Straw Hat. "Or we figure out some other way to deal with it."
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"Forgetting it... that's not a damn option, marimo."
No, they couldn't do that as much as they might like to. It didn't work that way, never had. It always came back to bite them in the ass in the end.
"Just have to deal with it, I guess. Fuck if I know how though."
He shifted his weight again, tried to shake the feeling of discomfort that near threatened to suffocate him. They had to think of something and fast - every second spent in this dark, empty apartment just made it that much more difficult to think straight.
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Even if it was. Even if his body had relaxed ever so slightly, it was still above it's norm. Hypersensitive to everything. The hand that had been in his hair found its way to the bottle once more. So much for making this sake last. The liquor may be the only way to relax.
He felt pale and sick. Nervous. Terrified. Frustrated.
Zoro didn't know what the fuck to do and it was eating up his insides.
"Tch. And how the fuck am I supposed to know?" He managed to grumble the words out. Zoro had never been good at affairs of the heart. Hell, he'd been completely inept until a few months before. But the feelings, the capability had been unearthed and now it was completely consuming him. But he didn't know how to actually cope with them. Still, he muttered.
"You're the damn 'expert,' aren't you?"
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"Oi, I'm just as fucking lost as you are. It's not like I've done this shit before."
'This shit' encompassed a lot of things. Feeling this way towards a man was one of them, elaborated in 'feeling this way towards the shitty marimo'. Not following his emotions and instincts was another first for the cook, usually he just threw caution to the wind and went with whatever he wanted. So to actually sit down and discuss this, try and find a way out of it... no, he couldn't say that he had done this before. No expertize to draw from there, no experience he could apply.
And then a thought occurred to him. Maybe... this wasn't so complicated after all. Maybe they were reading too much into this. They couldn't forget about it and trying to ignore it wasn't a solution either - but what if they didn't do either of those things? That didn't necessarily mean that anything would come from it.
It was a risky gamble and he was far from sure of himself but it was this or stay in Zoro's kitchen for the rest of their lives.
"You know. We could..."
He made a vague gesture with his hand, like he was trying to find the right words. The fact that he was even suggesting this in the first place just proved how far gone they really were and how desperate the blond was to find a way out. He swallowed, prayed to whatever god that would hear him that Zoro wouldn't take this the wrong way.
"...get it out of our system. Maybe it's just... a thing. A fix idea."
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Leaning forward, he contemplated the idea. It was terrifying. The thought of them... doing that. Of doing anything that wasn't beating the hell out of each other. It was strange, even more so as the realization began to hit that Sanji, of all people, was the one suggesting it.
He still didn't look up, his eyes focused on his hands. In the dim light, he could see they were trembling. More so than his shoulders were.
And then it hit him. There was only one thing at that exact moment in time more terrifying than the idea of 'getting it out of their system.'
He wanted it. His body yearned for the contact. Ached for the sensation of touch. For the hot breath to make its way to his neck. His head was screaming no, but his heart was telling him there was something so right about it. There was no denying what this was, and suppressing it... it could ruin them. All of it. And not just between them, but the rest of the crew, and Umi as well. Zoro and Sanji needed to be able to get along in whatever fucked up way they did, and that couldn't change. Over the course of time, their... relationship had evolved, but it still retained all the things that mattered. They'd started as rivals, but even as things changed, they never lost that.
It was fading quickly in this unsurity. But maybe.... just maybe, they could fix things yet. Maybe seeing where it took them wouldn't be a terrible idea.
"Tch," It was was all he was able to sputter out for a moment. He could feel his face turning red - it was fortunate the room was dark. But after a moment he looked up, barely making eye contact with the cook. "Either that or nothing at all... and like hell that's gonna work."
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But that wouldn't solve anything. Back to square one if not even further back.
It was just one night, right? One night. He could do that. It was far from the first time he did something like this even though his partner had always been female in the past and he grasped to the hope that once they got... started he'd be able to rely on his instincts. If nothing else he'd just have to fake it and suffer through this humiliation, resort to mechanical movements and his own vivid imagination. The technical part of this endeavor seemed to be manageable at least.
"So..."
Get it over with. Before they got cold feet and had to start from the beginning. So he took half a step forward, decreased the distance between them a little. Fucking hell, he should've taken a bigger swig from that bottle. A comfortable alcohol induced haze would be fucking perfect right about now.
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Really, what was he supposed to say to this? His entire body was shaking, though he was concentrating as best he could to suppress that, of all things. What the fuck was he so terrified of? It wasn't as if he'd never kissed anyone before. This wasn't a first, in that regard. Although kissing a man was a first.
But that wasn't really the issue at hand. It may have been weird, but that didn't seem to bother him so much. It was the fact that of all the people in this city, this world, it was Sanji. The ero-cook. The irritating blond with an eye that always remained hidden and an eyebrow that looked like you should be playing darts with his face. His rival.
It was what it was... and this was going to happen, however awkward it was. As Sanji had taken that small step, the swordsman shifted his body. His swung his legs so they were hanging off the counter, letting his hands rightly grip the edge of the linoleum surface. He held onto it so tightly that his forearms shook; It distracted from the way the rest of his body tremble, so he kept doing it. He didn't think he could move any more. He still felt frozen; paralyzed from the situation as a whole.
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He slowly edged a little closer, movements relaxed and fluid like if he was approaching a frightened animal. Easy now... one step at a time. If they were going to do this they might as well get some enjoyment out of it and if either of them freaked out it would all be ruined. A delicate balance... but that was something Sanji was good at.
Once he reached the other mans knees he stopped, glanced upward to see just how shaken Zoro was from this little. His voice was soft, almost gentle when he spoke and he maintained a little distance, didn't reach out for him just yet.
"...first time? Ever, I mean."
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And the swordsman couldn't deny that it was working. His nerves seemed to relax slightly. Not enough to completely wipe the terror of the situation, but enough for the trembling to subside. Slowly, his hands loosened from the counter's edge and he drew in a breath.
Hearing that tone used on him was jarring in a sense, but in another regard, it felt.... almost nice. He gave his head a shake.
"Tch. Don't flatter yourself." His lips curved upwards very slightly, smirking. Did Sanji really think that after all this time, he'd never kissed anyone? Hell... he'd kissed Umi for the first time nearly a year ago, amidst all the madness of the mistletoe. It was hardly the idea of a kiss itself that had gotten him so shook up.
It was kind of funny to Zoro. It only took a few seconds of accepting what was going to happen for a snarky remark to naturally come out of his mouth. Trying to deny these things - it only seemed to hinder them. Maybe, just maybe, things could still be salvaged.
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