One Piece- "Meeting Halfway"
Soooo... no one remembers me ever writing One Piece, I imagine. Because it's been THAT LONG.
But I did today. Because it is Zoro's birthday, and there's something about his birthday that makes me write One Piece fic. So. Yeah.
I am obviously REALLY out of practice, and I HATE how this turned out, but I did my best and now I'm tired and so here we are. Sorry in advance.
Title: Meeting Halfway
Author: Celeste
Feedback: (yes!) keviesprincess@netscape.net
Theme: More Domesticity
Universe: One Piece
Pairing/Character/s: ZoSan
Rating: PG-13
Time: Er… too long. O.o And I didn’t even edit either (god there must be six billion mistakes in this… -_-;;)
Word Count: 4,946
Summary: Continuation to “Nighttime”- It’s time to stop playing games and make a decision.
Dedication: Erm, my brother again? Because it’s his birthday and Zoro’s birthday and um… he doesn’t like yaoi. DAMMIT.
A/N: Bleach has been eating my brain. Which is why this might be… totally out there. My brain has been eaten. Anyway, apologies for the long interim… did I mention my brain was being eaten? Uh…well, looks like this is the last bit I’m going to put into this series, unless I’m lying, which I very well could be (unconsciously, I swear!). But right now I’ve convinced myself that this is the last installment of this silly little arc, and hopefully as an ending it won’t put too many people out. I’m really bad at closure? Yes I am. But you know, I could still be lying without knowing it and this might not actually be the end. Except I think it is. Uh, take that as you well. My brain has very obviously eaten, because everything I just said doesn’t make sense even to me. ^_^;; Er, I hate this btw.
Disclaimer: Not mine. ;_; But I dream. I dream sometimes.
Distribution: Just lemme know.
Chop.
This was good.
Chop.
This was normal.
Chop.
The bizarre world he’d found himself living in for the past six months was finally righting itself.
Chop.
The universe was realigning itself into its proper position. The Earth was no longer orbiting the moon.
Chop.
This was good.
Chop.
“Dammit!”
Sanji scowled at the various sizes of onion-bit he’d come up with in the course of his cutting, one chunk of shiny white looking big enough to smother some of the smaller slivers and several others looking like they’d still lose, but put up a noteworthy battle against the giant-monster piece.
The shitty old man would’ve had his balls for breakfast if he’d seen what a horrible job he was doing on such a simple task.
And whose fault was this?
The blonde eyed the now-rock-hard, ice-cold biscuit he’d set aside from the rest of the batch earlier this morning, halved and smothered in a good amount of butter and honey.
It stared back at him, looking pathetically small and strangely enough, lonely.
He turned away, making a scoffing noise in the back of his throat before resuming his task of onion mutilating.
Fine.
This was just fine.
Great in fact.
This is exactly how things should be.
Outside, he heard the rhythmic clang of Zoro’s weights, felt the slight shift in the ship’s balance as those ridiculous monstrosities rose and fell under the guidance of the swordsman’s muscle.
The back of Sanji’s neck felt chill.
He hacked the monster-piece of onion into a hundred itty-bitty pieces with perhaps more force than necessary.
Five minutes later and his diced onions were most definitely…minced.
Disgusted with himself, the chef wiped his hands off on his apron and grabbed the lonely biscuit from it’s plate on the counter, shoving the whole thing in his mouth and chewing the cold bread slowly as he moved to the ice box and started searching for the steaks he was going to cook with the onions.
Finding what he was looking for, he kicked the freezer door shut harder than he’d been intending to (sort of) and went back to work, all the while praising how the universe was finally returning to normal.
It was a good thing.
It was.
~~~~~
Zoro scowled and set down his weights, the smell of frying meat making him think of the food that would be waiting for him and the rest of the crew in another few minutes as well as the food that had been waiting for him (and probably still was) from earlier this morning.
He’d called it progress when after two or three months, Sanji had started setting aside something for him early on, those mornings when he came in before anyone else was up and greeted the chef in his usual manner before he would filch a hot biscuit directly from the baking sheet where they were cooling as he headed outside to exercise.
The first morning when it had been waiting there, on its own plate and spread thick with butter and honey, the swordsman had been surprised. Had been so ready to gloat.
Sanji’d scowled at his expression and resumed cutting whatever it was he’d been cutting, scoffing and saying, “well, if you’re going to eat it, you might as well eat it the right way, asshole.”
Zoro, wisely forgoing the gloating, had taken it and said nothing except “Good morning,” before kissing the back of the blonde’s neck and stealing out the door.
He’d gotten kind of used to it after that.
Wiping sweat off of his neck he took a moment to close his eyes and relax a little, the satisfactory screaming of his muscles momentarily drowning out whatever internal imbalance he was feeling.
Right now, it wasn’t important. Right now was his own time, to train his body, his mind, to savor the feeling of hard work and progress as he grew stronger, one step closer to his ultimate goal.
Now wasn’t the time to think about these other things.
Like the fact that he hadn’t so much as brushed past the Sanji for the better part of a week now.
Zoro grunted as the thought gripped him out of nowhere and stubbornly tried to grab hold of his attention-that-needed-to-be-on-himself. He forcibly pushed the issue out of his thoughts and continued meditating, working on clearing his mind to calm his exercise-excited body.
“Good morning Zoro-san!”
So much for peace of mind. He cracked an annoyed eye, stared at his visitor balefully. “Go away.”
Nami frowned at him, looking somehow affronted, as if she’d been expecting him to stand up and hug her and tell her it was indeed, a good morning. “I thought meditating was supposed to make you more peaceable.”
He gritted his teeth and gave up on trying to relax himself at this point, knowing that by her tone, she wanted to say something to him. Or gloat. Probably both. Either way, knowing her, she wouldn’t leave him be until she’d said whatever it is she wanted to say.
“What do you want?”
“Just came to check on you,” she responded sweetly. “And how are you this fine morning?”
“I didn’t get my biscuit. Sleeping on the ground is getting annoying,” he reported dourly. “Now go away.” The fact that he hadn’t had sex in about six months was also on his list of complaints, but she already knew that.
He was beginning to think that her whole “Give me a few months and you’ll have regular sex for the rest of your life” promise was a load or bullshit.
But more than that…
… he’n the chef… they’d sorta been getting along okay for a while.
Which, the swordsman supposed, to someone like Nami, meant it was time to destroy.
“Ne, what’s with that horrible face?” she asked, not bothering to hide her grin. “Still mad about the whole no-sex thing?”
“Che. No.” Well okay, yes, but only a little. Right now he was more annoyed that after they’d been sort of getting along, she’d come along and told him to mess it up.
And that he’d listened. But he was convinced it was mostly all her fault. She was confusing with her words sometimes, dammit.
“Oh? You’re not?” She put on her best I’m-here-to-listen-to-you expression. “What else could it be then?”
Zoro frowned and looked away. “I think he’s mad at me,” he sulked, running a frustrated hand through his hair.
She squealed. Like, really, really, girly-girl squealed. “That’s excellent!!”
He gaped at her. “Are you stupid?! How is this good!?” he demanded on her glee.
She gave him a look that said he was a lot dumber than she’d first surmised, and how was that even possible? “Zoro…” she began very slowly, “if he’s mad at you for ignoring him…”
“Che, he is.”
“Ne… don’t you think that means…” she trailed off meaningfully, gesturing cyclically with one hand.
He frowned suspiciously, not liking the way her hand was moving at all. “What are you getting at?”
She slapped a hand to her forehead. “I’m surrounded by idiots,” she muttered to herself. “Zoro… if he’s mad at you for giving up, don’t you think that means something?!”
He blinked.
She began counting off.
One.
He frowned, thoughtful.
Two.
Looked suspiciously at her again.
Three.
Looked suspiciously around both of them.
Four.
Blinked again.
Five.
“…Oh.”
Faster than she’d expected. She made a satisfied noise. “See? My plan is working.”
Not wanting to concede to her completely, he smothered his realization. “Uh, maybe,” he grunted.
Ignoring his pessimistic attitude, she clapped her hands together gleefully; looking like she’d won some sort of competition--probably by cheating-- and was thinking about how to reap the oncoming rewards. “So, just keep it up.”
His brow furrowed. “How long?”
“Until he does something.”
“What?! That’s a dumb plan!”
She scowled openly at him. “All my plans have been working remember?”
“Che. Maybe. It doesn’t mean they’re not dumb,” he pushed stubbornly.
She waved off his belligerent, well, nature. “Just keep it up, ‘kay? Poor Sanji-kun… he’s probably so confused!” she purred, taking some sort of sick delight out of the romantic comedy that had somehow become Zoro’s life.
He reminded himself again that killing her would nullify any progress he’d made with the damn love-chef.
Plus he wasn’t really sure she was the kind of person that could be cut by a sword in the first place…
“Ne, Zoro?”
“What?”
“You’ll thank me within the week.”
“I already paid you!”
She clucked. “Not that kind of thank. Not everything is about money, you know,” she chastised disapprovingly.
He looked skeptical.
“Okay, not everything is all about money,” she amended. “Just trust me.”
He snorted at that.
“I mean it!” She tapped his chin thoughtfully. “All right, tomorrow, take your ring off. Put it away, somewhere he won’t have a chance of finding it, kay?”
“But then…”
“Just trust me,” she repeated, supremely confident. “After you do that you’ll practically be home free.”
He didn’t believe her, still frowning severely. “Even if it is a good sign or something, he’s still mad at me,” the swordsman reiterated stubbornly. Letting her have 100% victory over his head was irksome after all.
“You’ll make it up to him once things work themselves, out, ne?”
He thought about it for a second.
Okay yeah, he could probably do that.
~~~~~
Sanji was in a bad mood.
Everyone, except for maybe Luffy, could tell that he was in a bad mood, and pretty much steered clear of him all afternoon, as he stood out on one corner of the deck, smoking like a chimney and staring out across the calm water.
He knew that shitty-ass stupid marimo had been playing around.
Well, good. Even if it was a stupid joke, at least the idiot hadn’t been serious. Just pretending.
For months.
Had to give him points for having the persistence to keep up a gag like that for so long.
Real funny. It was…
Sanji frowned and flicked away his ash with more force than usual, enough to fling it from his sitting place over the railing and into the water.
Yeah, it was real funny.
So why’d he feel so damn shitty?
Muttering, he drew his knees up and rested his elbows on them, leaning his head back to stare up at the sky.
He was such an idiot.
Well, they both were, he amended, though for some reason, he felt the majority of the accusation resting on his own shoulders.
Thoughtful, he took another drag of his cigarette before pulling aside the collar of his button-up shirt, taking out a well hidden chain, one long enough where he could take the ring hanging from it and examine it right in front of his face, the sunlight glinting off it, making it shine.
He didn’t really know why he still had it. Maybe it was just the pirate thing to do, or something… hoard treasure.
Not that this was any sort of treasure or anything. But it was precious metal…could probably be melted down to…
…ah fuck it.
Frowning, he let the metal hoop slide down past the first two knuckles of his ring finger, hearing the chain rattling against the solid metal as he fiddled with it.
Zoro’d stopped wearing his. He’d noticed it a few days ago at lunch, because there was a patch of skin that was slightly whiter than the rest of the swordsman’s left hand in a band just the right size on just the right finger.
Sanji wondered what the idiot had done with his, after all that show about always having it on. Studying his own a little more, he frowned and rolled it off of his finger, reached around his neck and undid the clasp. He gathered the chain and ring in his fist, winding his arm back in preparation to throw it overboard.
He definitely didn’t need it anymore, after all.
“Sanji-san!!!”
He paused mid-throw at the sound of Nami’s voice.
“Nami-swan?”
She smiled at him. “Whatcha doin?”
He blinked. “Uh…nothing…” Smiling back disarmingly, he slid his hand into his pocket, depositing the chain and ring as quietly as possible. “What can I do for you, Nami-san?” he asked, sweetly. Because no matter how shitty a mood he was in, that was no excuse to take it out on the ladies.
At his question, she tilted her head to look at him, noting the half-hearted enthusiasm he put into his greeting. Twittering on the inside, she took a seat next to him with as solemn a face as she could summon under the circumstances. “Ne…Sanji-san…” she began sweetly, “did you and Zoro fight?”
He frowned. “Uh…what makes you say that, Nami-san?”
“You’ve been so moody this past week,” she accused with a cloying smile. “It’s obvious.”
He snorted. “I always fight with him, Nami-san.” Taking a drag on his cigarette, he eyed her adoringly. “You and I much better suited to one another, don’t you think?” He smiled.
She just laughed in response, a high, mirthful dismissal of his proposition.
Oddly enough, he didn’t feel at all disappointed by her reaction.
Bad sign. Stubbing out his cigarette, he laughed out loud to himself. Definitely a bad sign.
“Sanji-san?”
“’s nothing, Nami-san.” He smiled at her, because even if there was obviously something very wrong with him, he would never stop being a gentleman. “I didn’t…act rudely to you or Robin-san, did I?” he posed after a second, ready to accept whatever punishment such an uncouth act would warrant from brilliant, beautiful Nami-san.
She waved a hand disarmingly at him. “No, no, of course not. But you were a little cold to Zoro,” she speculated, covered in sweetness and smiles like beautiful girls were supposed to be.
It always did his heart good to see her like that.
Though today, it lacked the usual, accompanying flutter.
Bad sign.
“Don’t think about that idiot, Nami-san. If I was cold it was because he was stupid,” Sanji assured her good-naturedly. “My affections are all saved for you, of course,” he pushed, gallantly.
“Aaah…maybe that’s why Zoro’s been so sad, lately,” she surmised, shaking her head. “Have you said anything about how you feel to him?”
The blonde blinked. Sputtered. “Why would I…I don’t…I mean…”
She smiled archly. “Ne…Sanji? You wouldn’t lie to me ever, would you?”
“Of course not, Nami-swan!!!!” he responded reflexively.
Her eyes narrowed triumphantly. “Good.”
The chef opted for silence instead.
Bad sign.
Waitaminute.
“The idiot’s sad? Really?”
Nami paused in the middle of her internal five-count, taking his question as her cue to sigh dramatically. “Miserable,” she assured him, shaking her head.
Sanji somehow managed to muster up a half-hearted smirk. “Well…um…good.”
He snuffed out his cigarette before it was even halfway done, feeling vaguely ill.
~~~~~~
He’d decided not to go to dinner tonight.
He sat on the deck and polished his swords instead, because that was calming and not infuriating, like that damn perverted chef was. Because his swords didn’t make him want to simultaneously be nice to them and wring their necks all in one breath.
But mostly, it was because he’d noticed something more troubled than usual behind the blonde’s eyes today, after he’d come back inside from his smoke break on deck, and something instinctive inside of Zoro--the thing he always used when reacting to Sanji-told him that maybe it was time to really leave the idiot alone as opposed to just sort of ignoring him like the swordsman had been doing for the past few days.
This was really it, after all. At least, that was what Zoro’s gut told him. Time to stop letting it be game. Make a choice.
He just hoped that idiot made the right one, or Zoro would be supremely pissed.
Though he supposed, if that happened, at least he’d get his money back from Nami.
He wasn’t really interested in a refund, however.
Thoughtful, he took the ring he wasn’t-wearing-anymore out of his pocket and studied it in his palm, putting his sword down for a moment.
After a second he sighed and picked up his polishing tools again.
He set to work on his ring.
~~~~~~
When Zoro didn’t join them for dinner that night, Sanji decided that there was childish, and then there was just idiotic.
The asshole swordsman could play whatever games he wanted with Sanji, because the chef was above that stupid shit goddammit, but when it got petty enough that Zoro wasn’t even coming to eat… Sanji drew the line. Whether Zoro was actually sad or not… well. Some things were just plain wrong.
After he cleaned up most of the galley, the cook prepared a plate of leftovers he’d somehow managed to wrest from Luffy’s grasp with various threats of death and no-meat-for-weeks, storming out onto the deck in search of the idiot who was willing to starve himself because of his stupid little game.
It wasn’t like it was a big deal or anything.
Sanji could take a joke. Harmless play between crewmates…something to stem the boredom of those long stretches at sea with nothing else to do.
The blonde could forgive that. Laugh it off, ha ha ha, whatever. It was okay.
But Zoro not eating…
“Idiot.”
He found the swordsman sitting on the deck looking up at the sky thoughtfully, having just finished cleaning his weapons from the looks of things.
And then Sanji suddenly forgot how angry he was, because there was something that might have been called nervousness creeping into his emotional spectrum right now as he looked at the stupid marimo-head idiot just sitting there looking… maybe as sad as Nami had said.
Well. That was pretty fuckin’ unprecedented now, wasn’t it?
Sighing to himself, Sanji pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand and stepped forward anyway, because dammit, it was just dinner for cryin’ out loud and it shouldn’t be a big deal, except that somehow, Zoro was making the cook stupider with his magnificent powers of stupid-infecting.
It was just dinner.
Zoro looked up at the sound of footsteps and noticing the chef, hastily slid something into his pocket, looking vaguely troubled as the blonde appeared in his line of sight. “Er, whaddya want?” he asked, the inquiry sounding more awkward than belligerent.
It was enough of a 180 that Sanji could blame it on the bastard’s self-starvation. “Here.” He thrust the plate forward, warm, wonderful smells wafting up into the air between them.
Zoro stared at it. “Um…”
“Take it asshole, or I’ll force feed it to you through your ass, I swear to god.”
Zoro almost asked if that was a promise, but thought better of it and reached out to take the offering. “Uh. ‘Kay.”
“Idiots who skip dinner don’t deserve this,” Sanji scoffed, though he stood around to watch Zoro take his first few bites anyway. “You better be fuckin’ grateful, yarou.”
The swordsman grunted halfheartedly in response and spooned the meat and rice into his mouth, making a vaguely appreciative sound in the back of his throat as the taste hit his tongue. He knew he married well the moment it happened, and he could only hope that the blonde would stop being a fuckin’ moron and see that too.
Because the both of them not having sex for as long as they had been was ridiculous. Really.
Among other things.
He gritted his teeth and kept eating.
“Oi, what’s with that face, asshole? At least say thank you,” the cook grunted on Zoro’s frown, lighting a cigarette and glowering down at the swordsman, daring him to say whatever asshole thing he was probably going to say next.
“…thanks. ‘s good.”
Sanji blinked at that, as if he hadn’t really been expecting it. Well, he supposed he hadn’t been. “Well…of course,” he managed.
They stayed silent from there on out, Zoro scraping his plate clean while Sanji watched the two of them out on the deck together as evening drew on, headed towards night and closer and closer to the double-hammock Sanji had been sleeping in solo for many nights now.
Once finished, the chef reached for the empty plate, but Zoro brushed his hand away, stating, “forget it. I’ll clean it myself later.” The swordsman set the plate on the ground and stood, then stretching his arms. “Later.”
Sanji frowned. “Well. Okay. Good. You should, asshole.”
Silence.
And then, “You shouldn’t um…skip meals,” the blonde started, trying to make it a growl though the words came out as more of a sigh as he puffed cigarette smoke and looked down at the floor between them. “It just causes more trouble, ya know.”
Zoro’s brow furrowed. “Didn’t feel like eatin’ too much, earlier.”
Sanji’s eyes narrowed reflexively. “Why?”
“No reason,” Zoro responded stubbornly, eyeing Sanji in his periphery.
He almost regretted the words as he said them then, if only for the slight look of hurt that flashed across the cook’s eyes. There and gone again in a flash, but Zoro knew what he’d seen nonetheless. Made him feel like a complete heel.
Well, that was it then, wasn’t it?
Nami’s plans or whatever, wait until he comes to you, blah, blah, blah. Zoro had been okay with it for a while, but when it got to the point where he was feelin’ bad for hurting the blonde’s feelings. Well. Maybe it was just time to give the whole stupid idea up.
Wasn’t working very well anyway.
And he didn’t like the way he felt when he stood there, indirectly insulting the other guy’s biggest source of pride or whatever.
The swordsman sighed and let his shoulders fall a little bit.
It was all his own fault really, for believing that maybe…
Obviously it couldn’t. Sanji didn’t…and yeah.
Time to stop playing games. Time to make a choice.
And Zoro definitely knew he didn’t like the look that had flashed across the stupid love-cook’s face just now. More than anything.
“Okay, maybe there was a reason,” he offered after a moment, as what would hopefully be a peace offering between them, an end to all these stupid situations they’d put each other through lately. “Bastard,” he added, because it was exactly what he was thinking and couldn’t help it, peace offering or not.
“What, watchin’ your girlish figure now or something?” Sanji bit back, with more vehemence than he’d intended. He stopped at that, ran a hand through his hair. “Dammit. Forget it. I don’t even care.” He made to leave.
“Che. Yarou. Listen to me, would ya? I’m tryin’ to give up, alright? It isn’t easy! Cut me some goddamned slack, okay?” the swordsman demanded, reaching out and grasping the blonde’s arm before he could up and leave things like that between them. “I’m talkin’ to you here.”
Sanji blinked. “Give up? And leggo, dumbass.”
“Yes. And no. Asshole.”
Sanji wrenched out of his grasp anyway. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Listen, goddammit! I said I give up! No more! You win.” Zoro raised his left hand between them then, making a show of his ringless finger. “I. Give. Up. Okay?”
Sanji’s eyes narrowed even more at the blatant display the other pirate was making, if that were even possible. “You’re such a goddamned asshole, you know that?” he hissed.
Zoro blinked. “What?”
“You never give up! And now you just. That is so typical.”
Zoro had gone from angry and indignant to just…very confused in the span of a few seconds. “Buh?” he managed, inarticulate and with his left hand still hanging in the air between them.
“Che, forget it,” the blonde snorted. “I knew you couldn’t make that kinda commitment.”
“I thought you’d be happy!” Zoro shot back with an incredulous snort, going back to good old instinctive arguments because really, those were the only things that worked with the idiot chef. Follow his gut.
“You gave up! I knew you weren’t serious in the first place!!!!” Sanji accused, managing to sound hurt and triumphant at the same time. “You never give up on anything else, but this? This is the first thing and I knew you wouldn’t come through! Lasted longer than I thought it would, but I was still right in the end, wasn’t I?”
“Make up your goddamned mind!” Zoro shouted back, because this didn’t make sense and yelling seemed like the thing to do. “You wanted me to give up, asshole! Remember?”
Sanji glared back. “And you did.”
The swordsman clenched his teeth. “I can’t believe I like you.”
“Yeah? Well I can’t believe I like you either, bastard! I can’t believe it even more than you can’t!”
“Yeah?! Well… wait… what?” Zoro’s paused.
Sanji, oblivious, continued to rant. “I mean, you’re a complete moron and I don’t understand you half the time and the rest of the time I don’t want to and all of the time I think I want to kill you! Do you know how idiotic I feel about liking you back? Especially when I know I hate you? It’s fuckin’ confusing as hell so it can’t possibly be worse than how you feel about me and…”
He trailed off when he noticed Zoro’s stricken expression.
“What?!” he demanded belligerently. “Why the hell are you looking at me like that, asshole?!”
The swordsman’s face slowly spread into one of those idiotic grins the blonde absolutely hated.
They looked at each other for a little while.
Sanji was beginning to get a little creeped out at this point. “What is it?! What are you so happy about?! Quit it, dumbass!”
“You said it,” Zoro chortled. Sanji began backing away when he could see Zoro’s teeth in his smile.
“Said what?!”
“That you like me.”
The chef’s eyes bugged out. “When in the hell did I say that?!”
Zoro stepped forward. “Just now.”
Sanji backed up. “No I didn’t.”
Forward. “Yes you did.”
Backward. “Selective hearing.”
Forward. “Selective memory.”
Backward. “I…”
Forward. “I know what I heard, love-cook.”
Backward. “I… what I meant was…”
Forward. “What?”
Backward. “…I didn’t mean it.”
Forward “Oh I think you did.”
Backward. “Did not. Oof.”
Zoro chuckled and took the final step towards the other man, effectively cornering him against the railing he’d backed him into. “Did too,” he sing-songed.
Sanji cursed. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. Now move. I need to get back to the galley.”
“Nuh-uh. Not after you finally admitted you like me…” Zoro teased, leaning forward so his breath tickled right against Sanji’s ear, arms boxing the other man in, effectively trapping him.
Sanji shuddered, put his hands on Zoro’s chest to shove him off. “…do not,” he muttered, looking away.
“Do too…” The swordsman pushed his cheek against the cook’s, inhaled the smell from his hair. “Heh. You’re shaking. That’s cute.”
“…am not, asshole.” Unconsciously, he fisted Zoro’s shirt. “Don’t go around making shit like that up,” he murmured against the other man’s skin, closing his eyes. “I’ll kick your ass.”
“Mmm hmmm…”
“I will!”
Zoro chuckled, lips whispering over the blonde’s jaw line. “Yeah? Go ahead and try. I’d wipe the floor with your skinny-ass with my eyes closed.”
Sanji bristled, shoving the swordsman effectively away. “God, you’re such an idiot!!”
Bewildered, the other man blinked back. “What? What’d I do now?!”
The cook crossed his arms and glowered at his crewmate, cheeks still a little pink. “I know you’re stupid, but even you should know when to just shut up and kiss me, dumbass.”
Relieved, Zoro laughed out loud. “Yeah?”
Blushing rather obviously, Sanji smacked him in the shoulder. “You really know how to ruin a mood, you know that?” he muttered, more tired than angry. “Never mind…I’m going back to the galley. You’re completely hopele…”
Smiling, Zoro kissed him mid-tirade.
Sanji’s breath hitched, Zoro could feel it against his lips, the way everything in the other man seemed to pause, freeze in surprise. Taking advantage of the momentary incapacitation, the swordsman pushed forward, one large hand’s fingers splayed out against the blonde’s neck, the other claiming the crook of Sanji’s hip, pulling forcibly towards him.
Sanji struggled instinctively though weakly, at least until they were two seconds in and he realized somewhere down the line that most of him was pushing forward anyway, that he was tucked right up against Zoro so that he fit into him like some sort of bizarre human puzzle piece and that it wasn’t all that bad if he really thought about it, being held like this, being kissed by someone warm and familiar.
Sometimes you just know when you’ve lost.
Zoro felt the capitulation and smiling against Sanji’s lips, partook of the spoils gladly. His kiss was slow and heavy, thorough with the realization that yeah, he had a whole lifetime to get to figure every part of the way the other man felt when he kissed him like this.
He was gonna take his own sweet time.
They pulled apart at Sanji’s behest, the chef breathing heavily as he rested his forehead against Zoro’s, eyes closed, tight fistfuls of Zoro’s shirt bunched in his hands as the green-haired pirate held him up. .
“How was that?” the swordsman murmured, thumb brushing across the chef’s cheek.
The blonde, slightly flushed, somehow managed to open his eyes, to work up another glare that didn’t looks too out of breath. “Yeah… well, don’t think you can just do that whenever you want or anything,” Sanji growled, more for show than as an actual threat and knowing it. “T-there’s an art to it, you know. A mood. Timing.”
Zoro grinned. “Yeah, okay.”
And kissed him again.
END
EDITS are sooooooo needed. I KNOW it.
But I did today. Because it is Zoro's birthday, and there's something about his birthday that makes me write One Piece fic. So. Yeah.
I am obviously REALLY out of practice, and I HATE how this turned out, but I did my best and now I'm tired and so here we are. Sorry in advance.
Title: Meeting Halfway
Author: Celeste
Feedback: (yes!) keviesprincess@netscape.net
Theme: More Domesticity
Universe: One Piece
Pairing/Character/s: ZoSan
Rating: PG-13
Time: Er… too long. O.o And I didn’t even edit either (god there must be six billion mistakes in this… -_-;;)
Word Count: 4,946
Summary: Continuation to “Nighttime”- It’s time to stop playing games and make a decision.
Dedication: Erm, my brother again? Because it’s his birthday and Zoro’s birthday and um… he doesn’t like yaoi. DAMMIT.
A/N: Bleach has been eating my brain. Which is why this might be… totally out there. My brain has been eaten. Anyway, apologies for the long interim… did I mention my brain was being eaten? Uh…well, looks like this is the last bit I’m going to put into this series, unless I’m lying, which I very well could be (unconsciously, I swear!). But right now I’ve convinced myself that this is the last installment of this silly little arc, and hopefully as an ending it won’t put too many people out. I’m really bad at closure? Yes I am. But you know, I could still be lying without knowing it and this might not actually be the end. Except I think it is. Uh, take that as you well. My brain has very obviously eaten, because everything I just said doesn’t make sense even to me. ^_^;; Er, I hate this btw.
Disclaimer: Not mine. ;_; But I dream. I dream sometimes.
Distribution: Just lemme know.
Chop.
This was good.
Chop.
This was normal.
Chop.
The bizarre world he’d found himself living in for the past six months was finally righting itself.
Chop.
The universe was realigning itself into its proper position. The Earth was no longer orbiting the moon.
Chop.
This was good.
Chop.
“Dammit!”
Sanji scowled at the various sizes of onion-bit he’d come up with in the course of his cutting, one chunk of shiny white looking big enough to smother some of the smaller slivers and several others looking like they’d still lose, but put up a noteworthy battle against the giant-monster piece.
The shitty old man would’ve had his balls for breakfast if he’d seen what a horrible job he was doing on such a simple task.
And whose fault was this?
The blonde eyed the now-rock-hard, ice-cold biscuit he’d set aside from the rest of the batch earlier this morning, halved and smothered in a good amount of butter and honey.
It stared back at him, looking pathetically small and strangely enough, lonely.
He turned away, making a scoffing noise in the back of his throat before resuming his task of onion mutilating.
Fine.
This was just fine.
Great in fact.
This is exactly how things should be.
Outside, he heard the rhythmic clang of Zoro’s weights, felt the slight shift in the ship’s balance as those ridiculous monstrosities rose and fell under the guidance of the swordsman’s muscle.
The back of Sanji’s neck felt chill.
He hacked the monster-piece of onion into a hundred itty-bitty pieces with perhaps more force than necessary.
Five minutes later and his diced onions were most definitely…minced.
Disgusted with himself, the chef wiped his hands off on his apron and grabbed the lonely biscuit from it’s plate on the counter, shoving the whole thing in his mouth and chewing the cold bread slowly as he moved to the ice box and started searching for the steaks he was going to cook with the onions.
Finding what he was looking for, he kicked the freezer door shut harder than he’d been intending to (sort of) and went back to work, all the while praising how the universe was finally returning to normal.
It was a good thing.
It was.
~~~~~
Zoro scowled and set down his weights, the smell of frying meat making him think of the food that would be waiting for him and the rest of the crew in another few minutes as well as the food that had been waiting for him (and probably still was) from earlier this morning.
He’d called it progress when after two or three months, Sanji had started setting aside something for him early on, those mornings when he came in before anyone else was up and greeted the chef in his usual manner before he would filch a hot biscuit directly from the baking sheet where they were cooling as he headed outside to exercise.
The first morning when it had been waiting there, on its own plate and spread thick with butter and honey, the swordsman had been surprised. Had been so ready to gloat.
Sanji’d scowled at his expression and resumed cutting whatever it was he’d been cutting, scoffing and saying, “well, if you’re going to eat it, you might as well eat it the right way, asshole.”
Zoro, wisely forgoing the gloating, had taken it and said nothing except “Good morning,” before kissing the back of the blonde’s neck and stealing out the door.
He’d gotten kind of used to it after that.
Wiping sweat off of his neck he took a moment to close his eyes and relax a little, the satisfactory screaming of his muscles momentarily drowning out whatever internal imbalance he was feeling.
Right now, it wasn’t important. Right now was his own time, to train his body, his mind, to savor the feeling of hard work and progress as he grew stronger, one step closer to his ultimate goal.
Now wasn’t the time to think about these other things.
Like the fact that he hadn’t so much as brushed past the Sanji for the better part of a week now.
Zoro grunted as the thought gripped him out of nowhere and stubbornly tried to grab hold of his attention-that-needed-to-be-on-himself. He forcibly pushed the issue out of his thoughts and continued meditating, working on clearing his mind to calm his exercise-excited body.
“Good morning Zoro-san!”
So much for peace of mind. He cracked an annoyed eye, stared at his visitor balefully. “Go away.”
Nami frowned at him, looking somehow affronted, as if she’d been expecting him to stand up and hug her and tell her it was indeed, a good morning. “I thought meditating was supposed to make you more peaceable.”
He gritted his teeth and gave up on trying to relax himself at this point, knowing that by her tone, she wanted to say something to him. Or gloat. Probably both. Either way, knowing her, she wouldn’t leave him be until she’d said whatever it is she wanted to say.
“What do you want?”
“Just came to check on you,” she responded sweetly. “And how are you this fine morning?”
“I didn’t get my biscuit. Sleeping on the ground is getting annoying,” he reported dourly. “Now go away.” The fact that he hadn’t had sex in about six months was also on his list of complaints, but she already knew that.
He was beginning to think that her whole “Give me a few months and you’ll have regular sex for the rest of your life” promise was a load or bullshit.
But more than that…
… he’n the chef… they’d sorta been getting along okay for a while.
Which, the swordsman supposed, to someone like Nami, meant it was time to destroy.
“Ne, what’s with that horrible face?” she asked, not bothering to hide her grin. “Still mad about the whole no-sex thing?”
“Che. No.” Well okay, yes, but only a little. Right now he was more annoyed that after they’d been sort of getting along, she’d come along and told him to mess it up.
And that he’d listened. But he was convinced it was mostly all her fault. She was confusing with her words sometimes, dammit.
“Oh? You’re not?” She put on her best I’m-here-to-listen-to-you expression. “What else could it be then?”
Zoro frowned and looked away. “I think he’s mad at me,” he sulked, running a frustrated hand through his hair.
She squealed. Like, really, really, girly-girl squealed. “That’s excellent!!”
He gaped at her. “Are you stupid?! How is this good!?” he demanded on her glee.
She gave him a look that said he was a lot dumber than she’d first surmised, and how was that even possible? “Zoro…” she began very slowly, “if he’s mad at you for ignoring him…”
“Che, he is.”
“Ne… don’t you think that means…” she trailed off meaningfully, gesturing cyclically with one hand.
He frowned suspiciously, not liking the way her hand was moving at all. “What are you getting at?”
She slapped a hand to her forehead. “I’m surrounded by idiots,” she muttered to herself. “Zoro… if he’s mad at you for giving up, don’t you think that means something?!”
He blinked.
She began counting off.
One.
He frowned, thoughtful.
Two.
Looked suspiciously at her again.
Three.
Looked suspiciously around both of them.
Four.
Blinked again.
Five.
“…Oh.”
Faster than she’d expected. She made a satisfied noise. “See? My plan is working.”
Not wanting to concede to her completely, he smothered his realization. “Uh, maybe,” he grunted.
Ignoring his pessimistic attitude, she clapped her hands together gleefully; looking like she’d won some sort of competition--probably by cheating-- and was thinking about how to reap the oncoming rewards. “So, just keep it up.”
His brow furrowed. “How long?”
“Until he does something.”
“What?! That’s a dumb plan!”
She scowled openly at him. “All my plans have been working remember?”
“Che. Maybe. It doesn’t mean they’re not dumb,” he pushed stubbornly.
She waved off his belligerent, well, nature. “Just keep it up, ‘kay? Poor Sanji-kun… he’s probably so confused!” she purred, taking some sort of sick delight out of the romantic comedy that had somehow become Zoro’s life.
He reminded himself again that killing her would nullify any progress he’d made with the damn love-chef.
Plus he wasn’t really sure she was the kind of person that could be cut by a sword in the first place…
“Ne, Zoro?”
“What?”
“You’ll thank me within the week.”
“I already paid you!”
She clucked. “Not that kind of thank. Not everything is about money, you know,” she chastised disapprovingly.
He looked skeptical.
“Okay, not everything is all about money,” she amended. “Just trust me.”
He snorted at that.
“I mean it!” She tapped his chin thoughtfully. “All right, tomorrow, take your ring off. Put it away, somewhere he won’t have a chance of finding it, kay?”
“But then…”
“Just trust me,” she repeated, supremely confident. “After you do that you’ll practically be home free.”
He didn’t believe her, still frowning severely. “Even if it is a good sign or something, he’s still mad at me,” the swordsman reiterated stubbornly. Letting her have 100% victory over his head was irksome after all.
“You’ll make it up to him once things work themselves, out, ne?”
He thought about it for a second.
Okay yeah, he could probably do that.
~~~~~
Sanji was in a bad mood.
Everyone, except for maybe Luffy, could tell that he was in a bad mood, and pretty much steered clear of him all afternoon, as he stood out on one corner of the deck, smoking like a chimney and staring out across the calm water.
He knew that shitty-ass stupid marimo had been playing around.
Well, good. Even if it was a stupid joke, at least the idiot hadn’t been serious. Just pretending.
For months.
Had to give him points for having the persistence to keep up a gag like that for so long.
Real funny. It was…
Sanji frowned and flicked away his ash with more force than usual, enough to fling it from his sitting place over the railing and into the water.
Yeah, it was real funny.
So why’d he feel so damn shitty?
Muttering, he drew his knees up and rested his elbows on them, leaning his head back to stare up at the sky.
He was such an idiot.
Well, they both were, he amended, though for some reason, he felt the majority of the accusation resting on his own shoulders.
Thoughtful, he took another drag of his cigarette before pulling aside the collar of his button-up shirt, taking out a well hidden chain, one long enough where he could take the ring hanging from it and examine it right in front of his face, the sunlight glinting off it, making it shine.
He didn’t really know why he still had it. Maybe it was just the pirate thing to do, or something… hoard treasure.
Not that this was any sort of treasure or anything. But it was precious metal…could probably be melted down to…
…ah fuck it.
Frowning, he let the metal hoop slide down past the first two knuckles of his ring finger, hearing the chain rattling against the solid metal as he fiddled with it.
Zoro’d stopped wearing his. He’d noticed it a few days ago at lunch, because there was a patch of skin that was slightly whiter than the rest of the swordsman’s left hand in a band just the right size on just the right finger.
Sanji wondered what the idiot had done with his, after all that show about always having it on. Studying his own a little more, he frowned and rolled it off of his finger, reached around his neck and undid the clasp. He gathered the chain and ring in his fist, winding his arm back in preparation to throw it overboard.
He definitely didn’t need it anymore, after all.
“Sanji-san!!!”
He paused mid-throw at the sound of Nami’s voice.
“Nami-swan?”
She smiled at him. “Whatcha doin?”
He blinked. “Uh…nothing…” Smiling back disarmingly, he slid his hand into his pocket, depositing the chain and ring as quietly as possible. “What can I do for you, Nami-san?” he asked, sweetly. Because no matter how shitty a mood he was in, that was no excuse to take it out on the ladies.
At his question, she tilted her head to look at him, noting the half-hearted enthusiasm he put into his greeting. Twittering on the inside, she took a seat next to him with as solemn a face as she could summon under the circumstances. “Ne…Sanji-san…” she began sweetly, “did you and Zoro fight?”
He frowned. “Uh…what makes you say that, Nami-san?”
“You’ve been so moody this past week,” she accused with a cloying smile. “It’s obvious.”
He snorted. “I always fight with him, Nami-san.” Taking a drag on his cigarette, he eyed her adoringly. “You and I much better suited to one another, don’t you think?” He smiled.
She just laughed in response, a high, mirthful dismissal of his proposition.
Oddly enough, he didn’t feel at all disappointed by her reaction.
Bad sign. Stubbing out his cigarette, he laughed out loud to himself. Definitely a bad sign.
“Sanji-san?”
“’s nothing, Nami-san.” He smiled at her, because even if there was obviously something very wrong with him, he would never stop being a gentleman. “I didn’t…act rudely to you or Robin-san, did I?” he posed after a second, ready to accept whatever punishment such an uncouth act would warrant from brilliant, beautiful Nami-san.
She waved a hand disarmingly at him. “No, no, of course not. But you were a little cold to Zoro,” she speculated, covered in sweetness and smiles like beautiful girls were supposed to be.
It always did his heart good to see her like that.
Though today, it lacked the usual, accompanying flutter.
Bad sign.
“Don’t think about that idiot, Nami-san. If I was cold it was because he was stupid,” Sanji assured her good-naturedly. “My affections are all saved for you, of course,” he pushed, gallantly.
“Aaah…maybe that’s why Zoro’s been so sad, lately,” she surmised, shaking her head. “Have you said anything about how you feel to him?”
The blonde blinked. Sputtered. “Why would I…I don’t…I mean…”
She smiled archly. “Ne…Sanji? You wouldn’t lie to me ever, would you?”
“Of course not, Nami-swan!!!!” he responded reflexively.
Her eyes narrowed triumphantly. “Good.”
The chef opted for silence instead.
Bad sign.
Waitaminute.
“The idiot’s sad? Really?”
Nami paused in the middle of her internal five-count, taking his question as her cue to sigh dramatically. “Miserable,” she assured him, shaking her head.
Sanji somehow managed to muster up a half-hearted smirk. “Well…um…good.”
He snuffed out his cigarette before it was even halfway done, feeling vaguely ill.
~~~~~~
He’d decided not to go to dinner tonight.
He sat on the deck and polished his swords instead, because that was calming and not infuriating, like that damn perverted chef was. Because his swords didn’t make him want to simultaneously be nice to them and wring their necks all in one breath.
But mostly, it was because he’d noticed something more troubled than usual behind the blonde’s eyes today, after he’d come back inside from his smoke break on deck, and something instinctive inside of Zoro--the thing he always used when reacting to Sanji-told him that maybe it was time to really leave the idiot alone as opposed to just sort of ignoring him like the swordsman had been doing for the past few days.
This was really it, after all. At least, that was what Zoro’s gut told him. Time to stop letting it be game. Make a choice.
He just hoped that idiot made the right one, or Zoro would be supremely pissed.
Though he supposed, if that happened, at least he’d get his money back from Nami.
He wasn’t really interested in a refund, however.
Thoughtful, he took the ring he wasn’t-wearing-anymore out of his pocket and studied it in his palm, putting his sword down for a moment.
After a second he sighed and picked up his polishing tools again.
He set to work on his ring.
~~~~~~
When Zoro didn’t join them for dinner that night, Sanji decided that there was childish, and then there was just idiotic.
The asshole swordsman could play whatever games he wanted with Sanji, because the chef was above that stupid shit goddammit, but when it got petty enough that Zoro wasn’t even coming to eat… Sanji drew the line. Whether Zoro was actually sad or not… well. Some things were just plain wrong.
After he cleaned up most of the galley, the cook prepared a plate of leftovers he’d somehow managed to wrest from Luffy’s grasp with various threats of death and no-meat-for-weeks, storming out onto the deck in search of the idiot who was willing to starve himself because of his stupid little game.
It wasn’t like it was a big deal or anything.
Sanji could take a joke. Harmless play between crewmates…something to stem the boredom of those long stretches at sea with nothing else to do.
The blonde could forgive that. Laugh it off, ha ha ha, whatever. It was okay.
But Zoro not eating…
“Idiot.”
He found the swordsman sitting on the deck looking up at the sky thoughtfully, having just finished cleaning his weapons from the looks of things.
And then Sanji suddenly forgot how angry he was, because there was something that might have been called nervousness creeping into his emotional spectrum right now as he looked at the stupid marimo-head idiot just sitting there looking… maybe as sad as Nami had said.
Well. That was pretty fuckin’ unprecedented now, wasn’t it?
Sighing to himself, Sanji pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand and stepped forward anyway, because dammit, it was just dinner for cryin’ out loud and it shouldn’t be a big deal, except that somehow, Zoro was making the cook stupider with his magnificent powers of stupid-infecting.
It was just dinner.
Zoro looked up at the sound of footsteps and noticing the chef, hastily slid something into his pocket, looking vaguely troubled as the blonde appeared in his line of sight. “Er, whaddya want?” he asked, the inquiry sounding more awkward than belligerent.
It was enough of a 180 that Sanji could blame it on the bastard’s self-starvation. “Here.” He thrust the plate forward, warm, wonderful smells wafting up into the air between them.
Zoro stared at it. “Um…”
“Take it asshole, or I’ll force feed it to you through your ass, I swear to god.”
Zoro almost asked if that was a promise, but thought better of it and reached out to take the offering. “Uh. ‘Kay.”
“Idiots who skip dinner don’t deserve this,” Sanji scoffed, though he stood around to watch Zoro take his first few bites anyway. “You better be fuckin’ grateful, yarou.”
The swordsman grunted halfheartedly in response and spooned the meat and rice into his mouth, making a vaguely appreciative sound in the back of his throat as the taste hit his tongue. He knew he married well the moment it happened, and he could only hope that the blonde would stop being a fuckin’ moron and see that too.
Because the both of them not having sex for as long as they had been was ridiculous. Really.
Among other things.
He gritted his teeth and kept eating.
“Oi, what’s with that face, asshole? At least say thank you,” the cook grunted on Zoro’s frown, lighting a cigarette and glowering down at the swordsman, daring him to say whatever asshole thing he was probably going to say next.
“…thanks. ‘s good.”
Sanji blinked at that, as if he hadn’t really been expecting it. Well, he supposed he hadn’t been. “Well…of course,” he managed.
They stayed silent from there on out, Zoro scraping his plate clean while Sanji watched the two of them out on the deck together as evening drew on, headed towards night and closer and closer to the double-hammock Sanji had been sleeping in solo for many nights now.
Once finished, the chef reached for the empty plate, but Zoro brushed his hand away, stating, “forget it. I’ll clean it myself later.” The swordsman set the plate on the ground and stood, then stretching his arms. “Later.”
Sanji frowned. “Well. Okay. Good. You should, asshole.”
Silence.
And then, “You shouldn’t um…skip meals,” the blonde started, trying to make it a growl though the words came out as more of a sigh as he puffed cigarette smoke and looked down at the floor between them. “It just causes more trouble, ya know.”
Zoro’s brow furrowed. “Didn’t feel like eatin’ too much, earlier.”
Sanji’s eyes narrowed reflexively. “Why?”
“No reason,” Zoro responded stubbornly, eyeing Sanji in his periphery.
He almost regretted the words as he said them then, if only for the slight look of hurt that flashed across the cook’s eyes. There and gone again in a flash, but Zoro knew what he’d seen nonetheless. Made him feel like a complete heel.
Well, that was it then, wasn’t it?
Nami’s plans or whatever, wait until he comes to you, blah, blah, blah. Zoro had been okay with it for a while, but when it got to the point where he was feelin’ bad for hurting the blonde’s feelings. Well. Maybe it was just time to give the whole stupid idea up.
Wasn’t working very well anyway.
And he didn’t like the way he felt when he stood there, indirectly insulting the other guy’s biggest source of pride or whatever.
The swordsman sighed and let his shoulders fall a little bit.
It was all his own fault really, for believing that maybe…
Obviously it couldn’t. Sanji didn’t…and yeah.
Time to stop playing games. Time to make a choice.
And Zoro definitely knew he didn’t like the look that had flashed across the stupid love-cook’s face just now. More than anything.
“Okay, maybe there was a reason,” he offered after a moment, as what would hopefully be a peace offering between them, an end to all these stupid situations they’d put each other through lately. “Bastard,” he added, because it was exactly what he was thinking and couldn’t help it, peace offering or not.
“What, watchin’ your girlish figure now or something?” Sanji bit back, with more vehemence than he’d intended. He stopped at that, ran a hand through his hair. “Dammit. Forget it. I don’t even care.” He made to leave.
“Che. Yarou. Listen to me, would ya? I’m tryin’ to give up, alright? It isn’t easy! Cut me some goddamned slack, okay?” the swordsman demanded, reaching out and grasping the blonde’s arm before he could up and leave things like that between them. “I’m talkin’ to you here.”
Sanji blinked. “Give up? And leggo, dumbass.”
“Yes. And no. Asshole.”
Sanji wrenched out of his grasp anyway. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Listen, goddammit! I said I give up! No more! You win.” Zoro raised his left hand between them then, making a show of his ringless finger. “I. Give. Up. Okay?”
Sanji’s eyes narrowed even more at the blatant display the other pirate was making, if that were even possible. “You’re such a goddamned asshole, you know that?” he hissed.
Zoro blinked. “What?”
“You never give up! And now you just. That is so typical.”
Zoro had gone from angry and indignant to just…very confused in the span of a few seconds. “Buh?” he managed, inarticulate and with his left hand still hanging in the air between them.
“Che, forget it,” the blonde snorted. “I knew you couldn’t make that kinda commitment.”
“I thought you’d be happy!” Zoro shot back with an incredulous snort, going back to good old instinctive arguments because really, those were the only things that worked with the idiot chef. Follow his gut.
“You gave up! I knew you weren’t serious in the first place!!!!” Sanji accused, managing to sound hurt and triumphant at the same time. “You never give up on anything else, but this? This is the first thing and I knew you wouldn’t come through! Lasted longer than I thought it would, but I was still right in the end, wasn’t I?”
“Make up your goddamned mind!” Zoro shouted back, because this didn’t make sense and yelling seemed like the thing to do. “You wanted me to give up, asshole! Remember?”
Sanji glared back. “And you did.”
The swordsman clenched his teeth. “I can’t believe I like you.”
“Yeah? Well I can’t believe I like you either, bastard! I can’t believe it even more than you can’t!”
“Yeah?! Well… wait… what?” Zoro’s paused.
Sanji, oblivious, continued to rant. “I mean, you’re a complete moron and I don’t understand you half the time and the rest of the time I don’t want to and all of the time I think I want to kill you! Do you know how idiotic I feel about liking you back? Especially when I know I hate you? It’s fuckin’ confusing as hell so it can’t possibly be worse than how you feel about me and…”
He trailed off when he noticed Zoro’s stricken expression.
“What?!” he demanded belligerently. “Why the hell are you looking at me like that, asshole?!”
The swordsman’s face slowly spread into one of those idiotic grins the blonde absolutely hated.
They looked at each other for a little while.
Sanji was beginning to get a little creeped out at this point. “What is it?! What are you so happy about?! Quit it, dumbass!”
“You said it,” Zoro chortled. Sanji began backing away when he could see Zoro’s teeth in his smile.
“Said what?!”
“That you like me.”
The chef’s eyes bugged out. “When in the hell did I say that?!”
Zoro stepped forward. “Just now.”
Sanji backed up. “No I didn’t.”
Forward. “Yes you did.”
Backward. “Selective hearing.”
Forward. “Selective memory.”
Backward. “I…”
Forward. “I know what I heard, love-cook.”
Backward. “I… what I meant was…”
Forward. “What?”
Backward. “…I didn’t mean it.”
Forward “Oh I think you did.”
Backward. “Did not. Oof.”
Zoro chuckled and took the final step towards the other man, effectively cornering him against the railing he’d backed him into. “Did too,” he sing-songed.
Sanji cursed. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. Now move. I need to get back to the galley.”
“Nuh-uh. Not after you finally admitted you like me…” Zoro teased, leaning forward so his breath tickled right against Sanji’s ear, arms boxing the other man in, effectively trapping him.
Sanji shuddered, put his hands on Zoro’s chest to shove him off. “…do not,” he muttered, looking away.
“Do too…” The swordsman pushed his cheek against the cook’s, inhaled the smell from his hair. “Heh. You’re shaking. That’s cute.”
“…am not, asshole.” Unconsciously, he fisted Zoro’s shirt. “Don’t go around making shit like that up,” he murmured against the other man’s skin, closing his eyes. “I’ll kick your ass.”
“Mmm hmmm…”
“I will!”
Zoro chuckled, lips whispering over the blonde’s jaw line. “Yeah? Go ahead and try. I’d wipe the floor with your skinny-ass with my eyes closed.”
Sanji bristled, shoving the swordsman effectively away. “God, you’re such an idiot!!”
Bewildered, the other man blinked back. “What? What’d I do now?!”
The cook crossed his arms and glowered at his crewmate, cheeks still a little pink. “I know you’re stupid, but even you should know when to just shut up and kiss me, dumbass.”
Relieved, Zoro laughed out loud. “Yeah?”
Blushing rather obviously, Sanji smacked him in the shoulder. “You really know how to ruin a mood, you know that?” he muttered, more tired than angry. “Never mind…I’m going back to the galley. You’re completely hopele…”
Smiling, Zoro kissed him mid-tirade.
Sanji’s breath hitched, Zoro could feel it against his lips, the way everything in the other man seemed to pause, freeze in surprise. Taking advantage of the momentary incapacitation, the swordsman pushed forward, one large hand’s fingers splayed out against the blonde’s neck, the other claiming the crook of Sanji’s hip, pulling forcibly towards him.
Sanji struggled instinctively though weakly, at least until they were two seconds in and he realized somewhere down the line that most of him was pushing forward anyway, that he was tucked right up against Zoro so that he fit into him like some sort of bizarre human puzzle piece and that it wasn’t all that bad if he really thought about it, being held like this, being kissed by someone warm and familiar.
Sometimes you just know when you’ve lost.
Zoro felt the capitulation and smiling against Sanji’s lips, partook of the spoils gladly. His kiss was slow and heavy, thorough with the realization that yeah, he had a whole lifetime to get to figure every part of the way the other man felt when he kissed him like this.
He was gonna take his own sweet time.
They pulled apart at Sanji’s behest, the chef breathing heavily as he rested his forehead against Zoro’s, eyes closed, tight fistfuls of Zoro’s shirt bunched in his hands as the green-haired pirate held him up. .
“How was that?” the swordsman murmured, thumb brushing across the chef’s cheek.
The blonde, slightly flushed, somehow managed to open his eyes, to work up another glare that didn’t looks too out of breath. “Yeah… well, don’t think you can just do that whenever you want or anything,” Sanji growled, more for show than as an actual threat and knowing it. “T-there’s an art to it, you know. A mood. Timing.”
Zoro grinned. “Yeah, okay.”
And kissed him again.
END
EDITS are sooooooo needed. I KNOW it.