Title: Picky Eater
Author: Plaid Voodoo Doll
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, though there are moments where I wish I did.
Pairing: ZoroxSanji
Summary: When it comes to drink Zoro could swallow anything. Alcohol is alcohol. But food is a completely different matter... ZoroxSanji
A/N: You know, the only times I can think of when Zoro ate someone other than Sanji's food was before he ever knew Sanji and the banquet in Alabasta and baroque works and a few other miscellaneous times... All right, so there are a couple, but in the end I think I'm right. If you feel my little theory is wrong, then please do put me in my place :3 I won't be changing this story, but go ahead and tell me I'm wrong.
He poked at the rather limp fish that had been set in front of him. It was one of those few times when he didn't want to be the one left with the ship and needed to go out adventuring. It was poor Sanji who was stuck with the ship this time, having completed his shopping at an earlier time. Zoro was glad to be away from the man. He... well... he liked him. But there were times when a person just had to get away from their lover.
He had wandered the streets of the little city, his hand resting against the three katanas he wore at his hip. His eyes caught every neon sign or drunken bastard expelling his guts into a nearby alley, or clinging to the nearest lamp post. He knew he was in the right part of town. Fortunate for him he knew when to stop drinking. He came upon a rather plain looking establishment that promised to be full of good drink and horrible drinking partners. He smirked as he walked inside.
And that was how he found himself with the poorly cooked fish, huge bowl of rice, and a rather large tankard of some mysterious alcohol. The only thing that looked worth trying was the drink. But it might be best to try having a bit of the food, just in case. You never know. Picking up his chopsticks, he got a piece of the fish, pushed it into his mouth, almost gagged and swallowed it down. He washed the taste out of his mouth with the strong drink. He pushed the fish away and didn't even bother touching the rice. He leaned back in his chair, mug in hand.
When had it gotten like this? There had been a time when he ate this sort of stuff everyday. He took what he could get. It wasn't as if the meal was all that bad in comparison with other bars and such. He'd become so damn spoiled because of the way Sanji cooked. Now he could barely eat anything that wasn't cooked by that idiot. He finished the mug and ordered another. He rubbed the heel of his palm against his eyes. The only word for this situation was stupid. But then, it wasn't as if he had to report this to the rest of the crew. Or even Snaji himself.
He could imagine the blonde finding out. The look of supreme superiority and triumph on the man's face was sort of cute, but mostly disgusting as this entire thing hurt Zoro's pride as a man. As soon as he'd had enough to drink he left the pub, once again wandering the streets. He was trying to get back to the dock, but with Zoro such a thing was never an easy task. He wasn't going to ask anyone for directions, not unless they presented themselves to him. But it was late and no one was wandering about. It was that dead time just after the night life was ending and morning was beginning.
Somehow he managed to make it back, the sun setting by the time he did. Dinner would be long over by now. With a shrug he boarded the boat. It was quiet, everyone sleeping soundly in their beds. He made his way to the kitchen, hoping for find some sort of food stored away.
Shockingly enough what he found was not a pristine kitchen and dining room. What he found was a plate of food left out on the table and a sleeping cook in the chair next to it. Zoro sat down in front of the food and picked up the chopsticks. He lifted some of the fish to his mouth, it being a similar meal to the one he had ordered earlier. The taste of the fish was magnificent, the spice was just right and the flesh was soft and yet not too spongy. And it was slightly warm. Sanji must have heated up every so often, hoping to keep the meal hot for when Zoro did come home.
He brought up a hand and gently stroked the blonde's hair. Sanji grumbled in his sleep, whimpered quietly, and then opened his eyes. He stared up at Zoro, expressionless. Suddenly the swordsman found a foot flying toward his head. He caught it and grinned. "Thank you," he said. Sanji just glared. Zoro leaned forward and kissed the cook's forehead.
Zoro began to shovel food vigorously into his mouth. "It's good."
"Baka. Eat slowly or you'll choke." Zoro obeyed as Sanji leaned against his shoulder.