Beta read by: Markofthemoros and Kagero-assassin (Tumblr)

Cover by anytramaksnisic (Tumblr)

Sanji placed another plate, stacked generously with neatly cut sandwiches, next to the stack of empty dishes. His other hand was preoccupied with a stack of their own. He let out a particularly exasperated sigh when he had to - yet again - step around a certain swordsman. Honestly, it was as if the man had no awareness of his surroundings. Though, the blond did make sure to 'accidentally' bump him with his foot on the way by.

That was the ticket.

Zoro cut his eyes over and slowly lowered his mug from his lips. "Hey, watch it will?" he half snarled, raising his drink back up. "Asshole," he muttered before the rim was pressed back against his mouth. The moment he averted his gaze, he felt something nudge the back of his head hard enough to cause the booze to spill and splutter.

"You're in the way," Sanji replied, flatly, cigarette hanging loosely. His gaze snapped back to the stack of dirty plates on the table, then back to the pile taking up the sink. Another look at the way the snacks were quickly disappearing already, there was no telling how many more there's be before the night was over. "You know, it wouldn't hurt to offer to help once in a while," he muttered, giving the other man's had a couple more nudges.

"Isn't that your job?" Zoro retorted, slightly raising his voice to be heard over the ruckus. Then, as he took another sip, the corner of his mouth turned upward slightly as a thought crossed his mind. "You know what, how about a bet?"

Sanji raised an eyebrow.

As if it was answer enough, the swordsman simply raised his mug with a sly grin. "That is, only if you think you're up to it." Mockingly, he rocked it back and forth. "But, if you're not...I'd understand," he shrugged.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" the chef asked between clenched teeth as he gently placed the stack of plates next to the already filled sink.

Zoro let out an amused snort. "I bet you can't even get two drink in before you're plastered on the floor.

By now, Sanji's teeth were almost clenched tight enough to snap his cigarette in half. "Being a borderline alcoholic isn't something to be bragging about, ya mossy dumbass." He folded his arms over his chest and straightened up. "So, let me get this straight. I win, and you wash dishes, right?" he asked, a slight gleam in his eye. Without another word, he dropped himself across from the swordsman and pulled one of the mugs over.

Just as he did so, a pair of antlers popped up next to Zoro as Chopper eagerly tried to reach for a glass himself. "I wanna join too!" he declared.

His hoof barely managed to glance over the mugs surface before an arm sprouted from the table, lifting the beverage out of his reach. "I don't believe you'll want to play along, Doctor," Robin assured with a warm smile. His face fell slightly, but he just nodded and sat back down.

"You know, I'm already a couple drinks in," Zoro reminded. "But, I guess that's fine, you'll probably need the handicap any-" He couldn't hide the shocked expression spreading across his face as Sanji quickly downed his first glass and repeated with the second. "-way…"

"I don't need your damn 'handicap," the blond bit back, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth. "Usopp!" he called without breaking eye contact. The sniper jolted. "You're in charge of pouring the drinks."

Without question, Usopp made sure both of their mugs were filled, and was extra careful to make sure they were both the exact same amount. As soon as he pulled away, they both began chugging. His eyes widened at the sight; it was teetering on terrifying, the ferocity at which they were going at this. The chaos slowly stilled as drink after drink quickly disappeared. For a moment, they were beginning to think neither of them even had a limit.

At least until the fifth.

"Already starting to get to you?" Zoro asked, noticing the slight red tinge to the blond's features. He smirked, already knowing he had this in the bag. Though, it was fair to say he knew from the beginning and would have been lying if he said he wasn't getting some sort of enjoyment out of this.

"As if," Sanji half slurred, brow remaining furrowed. He thrust his mug towards Usopp, again, never averting his gaze.

"You're both morons," Nami sighed from across the table, one elbow propped on the surface. This had gotten boring a couple drinks ago. Even she could see it was clearly one-sided. When it came to alcohol, Zoro was just a bottomless pit. "Sanji...as much as your determination is to be admired, there's just no hope." She could have sworn his cheeks only brightened, but it was hard to tell if it was from her or the intoxication.

For the first time, the chef turned to look towards her. "Ah, Nami, with you by my side, there isn't a thing I can't do." Slowly, but surely - like a gravitational pull - he was inching ever closer to the redhead. "Just wait, Mellorine, I'll be sure to dedicate this victory to my lov-"

He was interrupted by a mug slamming down on the table. An empty one. "You're behind," Zoro deadpanned as he received a refill.

Nami momentarily forgotten, Sanji jerked back to his original spot and snatched his drink up, quickly catching back up. As the rim was pulled away, it was obvious how unfocused his stare was growing. This probably wouldn't last much longer. It was sort of a shame, Zoro had half-hoped he'd be able to keep up a bit more than this. But, that glimmer of competitiveness never faltered.

"There," Sanji said, offering a small satisfied smirk of his own. However, it lost any conviction it may have had when it was followed by a small hiccup.

He hated to admit it, but Zoro's heartbeat quickened for a good few seconds. The man had resolve, he had to give him that. He swallowed thickly, hoping the heat he felt rise to his face was the alcohol's doing. Unfortunately, deep down, he knew for a fact it wasn't, he barely even felt a tingle in his fingertips. In a moment of panic, he slapped a hand against his face and tried to shake those concerns away.

No, he wasn't feeling anything, that was out of the question. It was the drinks. He knew he could drink more than that, but it was the rate at which he was taking them. That had to be it.

"'Nother," Sanji mumbled, holding his mug out. A little bit sloshed over the side when he pulled it back, unsteadily. "Not fallin'behin' are ya?" He blinked sluggishly, waiting for Zoro to get another refill of his own. To be honest, he wasn't sure what number they were on anymore. For all he knew, he could still be behind.

"Like that would ever happen," he assured, motioning for Usopp.

Said sniper flashed a worried glance in the chef's direction. From what he could tell, the man was starting to struggle just to remain upright. "Uh...Sanji?" he asked, waiting a couple seconds before said man reacted. "Maybe it's time to call it quit- Ah!" As the blond now made eye contact with him, like he had Zoro, and chugged the drink he had. "That wasn't a challenge!"

Of course, now behind, Zoro had to drink his as well to remain even.

The swordsman was about to say something, but whatever it was got caught in his throat when he caught the other staring at him once more. "Y'know what?" He held up a finger, as if to silence the already relatively quiet room. "M'not a huge fan o'green...but, ya'make it work." If Zoro's face wasn't feeling warm before, it sure as hell was now.

Before he could reply, Zoro was pushed to the side as Luffy now occupied the spot next to him. He had one brow drawn in mild confusion. "Doesn't look quite as good on you though, Sanji," he replied.

The blond raised his attention, bewildered until the sensation hit, at full force. He only had time to let out a miserable groan as the base of his throat began to burn uncomfortably. A hand flew to clamp over his mouth and he unsteadily darted for the door, nearly tripping on the way out. A second of absolute silence wafted by until their captain spoke up again.

"What did I say?"

Zoro sighed and finished off his drink to push himself up. "Knew the idiot couldn't hold his own." He gently placed his mug back down, and with no essence of mockery, added, "I'll go after him." Behind him, gradually, the comotion started back up now that the show was over. He only paused at the sound of light patters chasing after him. Zoro glanced down to the concerned face of their doctor. "Don't worry, Chopper, the idiot's fine, or will be."

The reindeer nodded, trusting Zoro was being honest with him.

As soon as the swordsman was outside, the sounds of joy were gone, replaced by the crashing of waves, the whispering of the wind and...retching a few feet away. He cut his attention over to the chef, leaning over the hull, hands gripping the railing for dear life. Exhaling slowly, he finally forced his feet to carry him over. Slowly, he came to a stop to lean against the railing himself just as the blond heaved again.

"I tried to tell you," he breathed out as a hand reached over to gently lay on the other's upper back.

"Dammit," he panted between hurls. "Thisis all your...fault damn...mosshead."

Zoro felt the lithe frame trembling subtly under his touch. "I didn't force you drink so much, and I did warn you, this is completely on you." He cringed when Sanji lurched again. "Just...let me know when you're finished…"

Even though it was clear nothing else was coming up, Zoro continued to stand there, hand now moving in small circles. Finally, the convulsions came to a stop, and Sanji was left half draped over the railing, drawing in shaky breaths. He inhaled deeply once and slowly straightened up to place his back against the hull instead. A cigarette and lighter was fished out. Zoro only watched, still noticing the bright red contrasting with his pale complexion.

"You look like shit."

Sanji just hummed, but even that slight noise was raspy. There was no doubt his throat had to be sore after all that. As he exhaled, and without warning, the blond listed to the side, towards Zoro. Luckily, the latter reacted quickly, and was able to grab a hold of his upper arm and help him regain his balance. "Hey," he blurted out, "Jeez, can't even stand up."

"Shuddup, we're on waves," Sanji reminded, as if that was enough of an explanation. To be fair, it wasn't doing any favors for his nausea. Just the thought of it made him groan again, but he was positive there was nothing left to come up. Without meaning to, he leaned into the other more. When the feeling didn't go away after a few seconds, he squeezed out a small, "Think I'm gonna be sick."

The speed at which Zoro moved was something to be marveled as he hefted the cook to lean over the railing again. "Not on me, you're not."

Again, his body heaved, but nothing came up. And just like before, Zoro was rubbing small circles on his back until Sanji was done. Carefully, the swordsman pried him from the railing and guided one of the cook's arms over his shoulder. "Come on, you're going to bed," he instructed.

To his surprise, there was no objections. It was a slow process, filled with constantly hefting the blond back up every time he slipped from his hold, but eventually he was able to drop Sanji onto the nearest bed. It wasn't the most gentle of deposits, but he'd be alright.

"Now go to sleep."

Sanji grumbled something into his pillow, but the words didn't quite make it to the other. Whatever they were, they were followed by a deep and annoyed sigh.

"What?" Zoro asked, "I can't hear you. And turn over before you smother yourself, dumbass." He sauntered back, and with one hand, easily flipped the chef to his side, who lightly whimpered with the unexpected motion. He tried to walk away again. This time it wasn't a voice that stopped him, but a surprisingly secure grip on his wrist. Zoro stared down at the fingers wrapped around for a moment before exhaling heavily and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Then his gaze wandered to the cook's features. Sanji's eye was closed, and he wore an expression of discomfort.

Once the blond was sure Zoro was staying where he was, he let his grip loosen. Gently, Zoro placed a hand on his shoulder and said in a low voice, "I'll be right back, I'm just getting some water. Do. Not. Move."

Sanji made a small noise, and Zoro could only assume he understood well enough. At least, he didn't make any move to get up, but that could simply have been due to the fact that he couldn't even take a step with crumbling into a drunken heap. He did cast a glance back a couple of times just to be sure. He had to wonder if the idiot even realized he was gone, or if he finally passed out. But, as he returned, he found the single visible eye open and watching him intently.

"Here," Zoro offered, handing the glass over. "Trust me, it helps.

Sanji made a sound of disgust and weakly placed a hand on the glass and tried to push it away. "Can't," he muttered. "It'll jus' come back up."

He went to turn the other way, only to grumble incoherently when his attempt was prevented. "Quit being a stubborn shithead and drink the water," he demanded. "Even if you throw up again, wouldn't it be better than dry heaving?" It must have taken a little while to process since it took a few awkward seconds for the chef to finally sit up. With a bit of help, of course. He took the glass in his hands, and stared at it for a moment, lips slightly pursed in mild distrust. With the swordsman keeping his eyes on him, he knew there was no way around this and forced himself to take a few sips. He had to admit, he was dying of thirst.

He continued taking sparing sip, making sure the previous was settled before risking more. By the time half the glass was done, he chose not to push his luck any further.

"Happy?" he asked, nearly shoving the beverage back.

"Yes."

Sanji ran a hand down his face with a deep breath. "Shit…" he breathed out as a fresh sheen blossomed on his forehead.

"Gonna throw up again?" Zoro asked, already getting in position to help him out if need be.

"Little bit." His hands started loosing the buttons on his jacket. "It's so damn hot in 'ere."

Seeing he was struggling with the third, Zoro swatted his hands away. "Just let me do it, it'll take five years at this rate." In no time at all, the suit jacket was pulled away and unceremoniously discarded on the floor. The swordsman watched as it landed in a heap. When he looked back to Sanji,l he nearly choked on his own inhale to see the man now trying to get his shirt off. "What the hell are you doing!?"

"I told you, it's hot!" he shot back, voice slightly raspy. He didn't get beyond the first button this time before slamming his arms down on either side in frustration. "Can't feel my damn fingers…" he muttered.

"Here," Zoro repeated the process, and the shirt was thrown to the side to join the jacket. "Better?"

"Little bit."

"Wanna get some fresh air?"

Sanji only nodded, eye half-lidded. He didn't even care anymore - his dignity was expelled a while ago - as he draped his arm over Zoro's shoulders of his own accord. He was easily pulled to his feet, and with most of his weight being supported, getting back outside was no problem at all.

The moment the crisp breeze hit him, he felt a good bit of the nausea ease away. They only made it a few feet away from the door, and Sanji decided that was far enough. He didn't even let out a word of warning, he just sat, forcing Zoro to go down with him. He leaned his head back against the wood before drawing in his knees and dropping to the side, back against the other. His head slid down until it was resting on the swordsman's shoulder. That was what convinced Zoro the man was totally out of it. There was no other way he would be caught dead in such a position.

"-'Smell nice…"

Zoro's eyes widened and that familiar heat returned to his features. "H-Huh?" he asked, voice suddenly dry. Swallowing the lump, he turned towards the other to see his eye lightly closed, breaths coming out even. "Sanji? You awake?"

Nothing.

Completely out cold. Zoro didn't know what came over him, or why he did it, but he instantly felt a twinge of embarrassment as he hoped no one saw him take a quick sniff of the man's hair. Like strawberries.

Giving the other a few experimental shakes, he deemed it safe enough to move. Using one hand to hold Sanji steady, he got himself in a kneeled posture and gingerly scooped the unconscious man in his arms. "'Bout time you fell asleep," he muttered, holding him close. He carried him back inside and this time gently laid him down. After the cover was draped over him, Sanji stirred lightly. Once more, his hand reached out and he mumbled again, sounding about the same as it had earlier. Only this time the word was plain to hear:

"Stay."

Zoro felt the corner of his mouth twitch upward. "Alright, if it means you'll finally shut the hell up and go to sleep, then I won't go anywhere." As he said that, the blond scooted over, closer to the wall until there was enough room. "You want me to...lay down?" he asked, shock obvious in his tone. The mop of golden locks shifted to show confirmation.

Glancing behind him to make sure the coast was clear, despite the fact it was only a matter of time before the others filtered in anyway, Zoro slowly climbed next to the chef, his heart pounding harshly. There was hardly enough room for the both of them, so he found himself having to lie with his chest completely against the other's back. Not knowing what else to do with his arm, he slowly, and stiffly, reached it to wrap around Sanji. The latter either didn't mind, or was knocked out again.

No later was his arm relaxed did Sanji let out a nearly inaudible sigh. Just like that, he was out like a light as the alcohol finally claimed him for good for the night. Zoro couldn't help but let a relieved smile grace his features before yawning deeply. He was only planning on staying there until Sanji fell asleep, but he was honestly too comfortable. That and the man had somehow managed to twist around and wrap his own arm around the swordsman in less than a second. He couldn't move now, not without running the risk of waking him up.

There was nothing left to do than to stay there until Sanji released him. Though, the way he was plastered against him and hadn't moved an inch in the last thirty minutes was pretty much sealing his fate.

...Not that he was complaining. The longer he lied there, the more sleep pulled at him. The chef's soft breaths against his neck weren't doing him any favors either. A shiver ran down his spine when a particularly heavy exhale ruffled the small hairs bordering his ear. Yeah, he was fine sleeping there for the night.

Giving in, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax. Luckily for him, falling asleep quickly was somewhat of a talent. Before long, two sets of snores filled the room.

Sanji's head throbbed in time with his heartbeat, pounding and drilling against the inside of his skull. And that sick feeling deep in his core was back with a vengeance. He barely remembered throwing up the night before, but he knew he did thanks to the rawness of the back of his throat. He almost gagged against the dryness that encompassed his entire mouth. The man wanted nothing more than to just lie there until it all went away, but his mind couldn't let him do that. It flashed back to earlier the previous night, and the memory of all those dishes popped back up.

"Shit."

Begrudgingly, the blond tossed the cover aside and slowly sat up.

Huge mistake.

His head spun dangerously, and the throbbing headache increased tenfold. A hand jerked to cradle the side of it as fingers gingerly massaged his pulsing temple. Damn Zoro and his damn drinking games… He was gonna kill the bastard for this.

Once his head was at a tolerable pain level, he planted his feet on the floor and pushed himself up. Another mistake that was; his head spun and he had to place his hand against the wall to keep his balance. He closed his eyes tightly and breathed slowly before carefully prying them back open. So far, so good. Nothing was spinning anymore, which was a miracle in and of itself.

Standing was already a chore, so getting himself up the stairs was almost too much to ask. However, he managed and slowly but surely, eventually reached the kitchen. Blocking the sun from his sensitive gaze the entire way. His body was pressed against the door, taking a moment to catch his breath and rest his head before finally pushing the door open.

Sanji paused, blinked a couple times to clear his slightly blurred vision.

"..."

He didn't know what he was most taken aback by, the fact that there wasn't a single dirtied dish in the sink, or that fact that someone was cooking. No, he knew exactly what the most shocking part was. It was the fact that the man cooking was Zoro of all people.

"Oh, awake already? Thought you'd be out 'til at least noon." He said this so nonchalantly, not even bothering to look in the chef's direction.

"...I-I could say the same," the blond deadpanned, eye twitching.

Was he using...a metal spatula...scraping it...in his pan? His teeth instinctively ground together in time with the sound of steel sliding over copper. "H-Hey, what the hell are ya doing!?" he blurted, wincing when his own raised voice sent jolts through his skull. Then, whispering, "Are you trying to ruin it?"

Zoro didn't respond right away, just continued doing what he was doing without a care in the world. And when he did reply, it was surprisingly calm. "I figured I'd do dishes. Technically, I won. What can I say, I'm merciful. Now, go sit down before you keel over...you still look like shit."

Sanji took a deeper breath, a retort tickling the back of his throat, but really, he wasn't feeling up to arguing with the dumbass. So, he huffed it back out and did as he was asked. The cook dropped into the nearest seat with a light 'thud' following as his head hit the table, facing down. He wasn't there for any longer than a minute when similar sound struck the table next to him.

"Here, drink some water."

The blond groaned to himself and didn't move.

"You'll feel better, trust me," Zoro urged. "Also, I'm making breakfast, eating something will also help." Sanji felt a small brush against his back, which he could only assume was the other's hand. He just laid there, letting the touch remain as it now trailed up to massage the back of his neck, and then the back of his head. A quiet moan escaped his lips as it helped a bit in alleviating his pounding headache.

He could feel himself drifting off, and how bad did his body crave it. His shoulders relaxed, and he almost let out a dismayed whine when the hand was pulled away. But, as the scent of something slightly charred reached his nostrils, he understood with a shudder. The cook's insides twisted at the foul aroma. He placed one arm on the table and wrapped it around his head in a poor attempt to block the smell out.

Unfortunately, it wasn't going away. No, it was getting closer and closer until it was about all he could smell. Then there was the sound of something else being placed on the table next to him.

Sanji raised his head just enough to see a small stack of charred disks.

"A-Are those...supposed to be pancakes?" he asked, cutting his eyes up at the swordsman. They looked as though they may crumble at the slightest touch.

In return, the other man narrowed his eyes. "What do ya mean by that? Of course they are, you blind?" He crossed his arms over his chest before looking to the mean himself. "Ok, so they're a little over done. I would make more, but then you'll bitch about be wasting food."

Brow furrowed, Sanji galred up at the other as he pulled the plate closer. Without looking away, the blond stabbed his fork in and tore a small piece off. He hesitated for only a couple seconds before forcing the meager taste past his lips. It was absolutely terrible, there was no mistake about that. Still, he willed himself to swallow the first piece.

"You know, you don't have to eat it if it's that bad," Zoro reminded with a cock of his head.

Instead of replying, Sanji made himself take another bite. "It's...fine," he said between chews. But the way his eye slightly watered told a different story. Slowly, he sat up straighter, his head resting in one hand for support. It still felt far too heavy for it to be supported by just his neck. Every bite he took was chased with a mouthful of water, it was likely the only way to get the dry substance down.

It took some time, and more than a little self-convincing, but eventually he get the rest of it down.

"The flavor was...interesting," he sighed, finishing off the water. "But, I think it's best you keep your hands off my equipment." Sanji placed his hands flat on the table and pushed himself up with a stiff exhale. He was still a little groggy, but thankfully not as much as before. Zoro was right about something for a change. "I should start preparing breakfast for the rest, I'm already late enough."

A firm hand wrapped around his wrist before yanking him back down. "I think they'll understand if you skip just one day," Zoro muttered, eyes holding a degree of seriousness. "You were puking your brains out just six hours ago. And honestly, I don't think sleeping for a few more will hurt."

Sanji didn't argue, he couldn't. He lifted one of his hands to see the slight tremble running through it. There was no denying it, he was still exhausted. Though the food and water had helped, it still wasn't quite enough to boost him back to 100%.

He opened his mouth, but the only thing to come out was a deep yawn before he slumped over to lean his head against the other man. He could practically feel the bags under his eyes and wondered just how obvious they were.

"Hey, shithead...don't fall asleep on me."

The corner of Sanji's mouth twitched. "Shut the hell up, your voice it too loud." He felt a slight shaking against him. "Something funny, Moss Head?"

"No, nothing." The light weight against him leaned into him more until he was supporting the blond completely. Instinctively, he draped an arm around his lithe shoulders and pulled him closer. His free hand reached over to brush a few stray golden hairs to the side. "Alright, I think we should get you back to bed," he said lowly. He then waited for a response, and waited. And just when he was about to ask again, he heard it. A quiet snore.

Zoro glanced down and exhaled heavily. "Again?" he asked aloud. Sanji was sagged completely into him now, dead to the world. Just like the night before, Zoro could only sit there, watching. Should he move him to bed and risk waking him? Or just sit there and bear with it until he woke up on his own. He groaned to himself as he fought with the choices. However, looking at the cook, there was no way that was comfortable. That was enough to make his mind up.

"Right," he whispered. As carefully as he could, and slowly, conscious ever each movement, the swordsman eventually worked the blond into his arms. Not so much as a stir or hitch in breathing. Every step he took was placed with thought. He was surprised when even going down stairs didn't jolt the chef back into wakefulness. It wasn't until he had him back under the covers until he finally heard something. For a moment, he wasn't sure if he heard right.

"Thanks, Zoro." Immediately after, he was snoring again. Was that in his sleep?

Either way…"Yeah yeah, you damn princess." Before leaving, he made sure to place one more glass of water on the table for when he woke up. Thankfully, the rest of the crew was still asleep, unaware to everything that went on. No one saw him carry the cook down here...twice, and no one saw him sleeping next to him. No one even witnessed him cleaning up. He was up just before the others had gone to bed, so it was likely they'd be out for some time still. The only other one awake was Ussop in the crows nest, but he was likely too focused on everything else.

Taking a relieved and deep breath, he turned to go to his own bed. But there it was again...his name said in the blond's sleep and all his hairs were standing on end. He looked behind him now, and his jaw almost fell open as Sanji scooted closer to the wall. One inch at a time. He was starting to question whether or not he was actually asleep.

Once his name was said a third time, a little louder, sluggishly at that, Zoro's teeth ground together. "Fine, you damn idiot, just shut up, will ya?" He knew what the other wanted, and he knew he did too. He climbed next to Sanji, and the moment he was down, the blond had his body turned and his arm over him again, still snoring away.

There was no getting away from this, it seemed. Giving in, the swordsman put his own arm around the smaller man. If there was anything he was sure of now, it was that it definitely wasn't the alcohol talking anymore. There was no longer mistaking the fluttering in his chest every time he felt the blond's breath against his neck.