Great Minds

Zoro and Ace got along simply because they were so alike. At least, that was Sanji's theory. Granted, there were differences in looks and… personality, but really, the general make-up of their characters were totally similar.

Both were insanely strong (So strong it wasn't funny. So strong it was stupid. So strong it was annoying, goddamnit!).

Both were undoubtedly attractive (Ace in the way that could charm your pants, your shirt and, inevitably, you underwear off, while Zoro preferred the 'throw you over my shoulder and make hot sweet love' option).

Both were brother figures (or in Ace's case, an actual brother) to the same meat-eating pirate captain IDIOT. Whether or not they were any good at it was debatable, but then again, Sanji was naturally inclined towards Ace, who had reasonably good table manners unlike a certain stupid marimo head whose name would not be mentioned!

So Zoro and Ace were alike. So they got along. Fine. Good. Great. Fine. He was perfectly, superbly A-OKAY with that.

…

Then why did he feel so goddamn shitty whenever he saw them together?

Sanji stared at the sight that lay shamelessly before his eyes, blinked a few times, and went back to staring again. Oh, and his jaw dropped a few hundred inches too.

Meanwhile, a sleeping Portgas D. Ace gave a very suggestive moan as he snuggled up to Roronoa Zoro's tanned, scarred, exposed chest, which was quickly turning the same flustered shade of red that burned on the swordsman's cheeks. Their current position was nothing short of provocative – Ace resting on Zoro's torso, arms wrapped loosely around him; Zoro's chin nestled in a mop of black hair.

"Mmmm… Comfy." Ace murmured, which didn't really help the situation.

Sanji opened his mouth to enquire what the fuck in hell they were doing, and comment on how red really clashed with green, but all that came out was a garbled croak.

"Warkgh." Oh my fucking god, this was so wrong. And so creepy too!

Zoro seemed to agree, and was now mouthing a rather desperate "Help me!"

Ace gave a muffled snore and tightened his grip around the younger boy's waist.

And Sanji – poor, bewildered, knock-you-off-your-feet shocked Sanji – well, he just kept right on staring. And grimaced as he felt that familiar shitty feeling churn in his stomach again.

Two weeks after what Sanji had dubbed the 'Zoro Pillow Incident', Ace left the ship to return to his duties as 2nd Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates. The timing could not have been better.

Zoro sat gloomily in the shade, watching Sanji prowl up and down the sundeck like a caged lion. Things were still incredibly awkward between the first mate and chef. Neither was comfortable in the other's presence, and most of the time they simply avoided contact all together. While the crew hadn't yet caught on, the tension between them was practically palpable.

Sanji abruptly turned towards him, an unfathomable expression on his face (it looked like a combination of anger, disgust and some other emotion that definitely did not fit there in that way). Zoro felt himself go red in embarrassment.

To Zoro's dismay, the ero-cook smiled at the sight, and quite unceremoniously, flipped him off.

Well at least he was freaking polite about it! The last time he had tried to bring up the subject, the bastard cook kicked him in the face!

Zoro snorted and looked away. And they called him the uncivilized one.

"Muscle-head marimo."

"Sanji."

"I'm sorry? I can't hear you through all the layers of stupid."

"San –"

"Why, is marimo getting me confused with someone else? Because I'm pretty sure Mr. Three is currently locked away in a nice padded cell!"

With that Sanji walked away, leaving Zoro standing alone in the corridor with an explanation still very much unsaid.

"Um, Ace and I… no, I just want to say… that maybe… accident… WELL FUCK YOU TOO, YOU PMSING DICKWAD!"

Sanji stopped in his tracks.

Oh, screw civility. The bastard cook was getting what was coming to him.

"Excuse me?" Sanji's tone was absolutely lethal. Slowly, menacingly, he turned to face Zoro. "What the fuck did you just say to me, Roronoa?"

Zoro stood his ground. He had faced worst things before.

"I think you're a whiny little bitch. And you should seriously consider growing some fucking balls."

And suddenly, there was a foot in front of his face.

Zoro flew back, smashing through five walls before coming to a stop. When he finally landed on his ass, Sanji was there smirking down at him. Zoro attempted to frown, but soon realized that it hurt his broken nose too much.

"Holy fuck. You broke my nose." Zoro tried his hardest to sound incredulous through a mouthful of blood. Sanji just laughed at his efforts.

"Yeah, whatever. Makes up for how shitty you've been making me feel lately."

"Shitty?"

"Yeah, shitty." He seemed thoughtful. "I wonder why that is."

"Huh?"

Sanji sighed. "You won't get it, 'cause I don't either. Now go get that nose fixed before it sets. Don't want to become even more grotesque than you already are, hmm?" Then he left. Leaving a very confused Zoro on the floor. With a broken nose. And an impossibly cryptic message to decipher.

A beat.

"Did you just call me ugly?"