Koe

by Nadare

Zoro is having a bad week. The crew's left Alabaster behind them and he's successfully learned how to cut steel. However, he is unable to shut off the ability to hear the voices of his surroundings. Things like animals and swords are slowly driving him insane. A certain curious cook enters the scene and things snowball. M/M/Yaoi, Sanji x Zoro.

1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: You know you've found the perfect best friend when they unwittingly play along with you as you toss around a story idea, adding details and so forth until you have to write the idea out. This one's for you, Umi-chan. ^_^

[Written on and off from August 10th of 2006 to July 29th of 2007]
[Last edited on 9/3/18]

-Originally posted as a one-shot. -

Disclaimer: Oda Eiichiro, lucky bastard that he is, owns One Piece. I just worship at his altar and hope to measure up to his awesomeness.

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"Koe"
Part One

Metal and oil teased his nose as Zoro's callused hand shifted up and down the length of steel, holding within his fingers a small sheet of rice paper, which as it swept the blade, absorbed any leftover oil from the last cleaning. His other hand gripped the hilt, holding the sharp edge away from him. His elbows were settled against his crossed knees, clasping the sword gently. Out of his trio of blades, it was his most cherished: Wadō Ichimonji, Kuina's former sword.

As was his routine, he always cleaned Wadō Ichimonji first, and after his initial cleansing of the blade, he reached to his side, and replaced the rice paper in his hand with an uchiko, a ball of powder, that he eventually tapped onto both sides of the steel sword. Then with a clean sheet of rice paper, he rubbed the powder in, polishing the sword at the same time until no remnant of the powder remained.

Grabbing the bottle of choji oil he'd set in the middle of his lap, he applied a few drops of the clove oil, the smell unconsciously comforting Zoro. It was rubbed evenly over Wadō Ichimonji with a clean sheet of rice paper. He was re-sheathing the sword gently as to avoid touching it after he had spent nearly ten minutes cleaning it, when Zoro froze, his head tilting to the side.

~Isn't that just the greatest feeling? I wish he'd do this more often than just every two months. ~

Shaking his head to clear it, Zoro pushed the remainder of Wadō Ichimonji into its scabbard and continued onto his next sword, Sandai Kitetsu. Said to be a cursed blade, but Zoro was a born gambler and hadn't batted an eyelash when the shopkeeper had given it into his care. ~Don't be a grump this time, San-kun. ~

~I told you not to call me that, dammit. Who says I have to suck up to this guy every time he deigns to grace us with his attention? ~

~It's only polite. Jeez, who rattled your scabbard this morning? ~ Glancing this way and that over the main deck of the Going Merry, Zoro noted the absence of any other crewmembers then fixed his gaze on the sword currently half-drawn from its casing. He pushed it back into the scabbard, put it on the ground and walked away for a moment, the bottle of choji oil narrowly avoiding spilling itself over the ship deck.

~Oh, now what? Is he too scared to clean me? ~

~San-kun, you know Zoro-dono treats us with equal respect, don't get yourself out of shape over this. ~

~Ha, so says the sword that received care first. ~

~San-kun! Be nice. ~ After taking more than a few deep breaths, Zoro walked back to his corner and resumed where he had left off, cleaning Sandai Kitetsu in a cool efficient matter, his hands no less steady than they had been while tending to Wadō Ichimonji. When he came close to gripping his last sword, Yubashiri, he sighed and as his fingers closed over the scabbard, the sword yawned when its steel met the early morning light, it groaned.

~God, it's bright today. Yo, Wado-san, how goes the master today? ~ Gritting his teeth, Zoro lifted rice paper, uchiko, and choji oil, trying his hardest to pay absolutely no mind to the swords. Doing so only egged them on and they babbled more than he could stand. For pieces of steel, the swords had startling different personalities. Sandai Kitetsu had the worst, holding nothing but contempt for Zoro, wishing his downfall early so the sword could rest again.

~Oh, fine, though he seems to be ignoring us today. I guess he didn't appreciate us trying to sing him to sleep last night. ~ Wado Ichimonji regarded Zoro as a daimyo, a samurai master. The sword took his commands cheerfully, prepared to do anything even shatter to pieces if that's what it took to protect Zoro's life. Not a pleasing thought considering Wado Ichimonji's importance to Zoro, and his ultimate goal in life. ~Ah, that so? Well, suppose that's all right since we kept him up late. ~

Considering Yubashiri's clipped slang and casual banter, Zoro had the sword pegged as a type of hick though where exactly it had picked up such vocabulary was anyone's guess. "I wouldn't have been so pissed off if you'd just sung something other than 'Row, Row, Row Your Boat.' It's fine the first time but by the tenth rendition, anyone would be going crazy," Zoro growled underneath his breath, angry once he realized he'd said the comment out loud.

~Good morning, Zoro-dono! ~

~Hphm, ungrateful bastard, ~ Sandai Kitetsu said as if countering Wado Ichimonji's cheerful greeting.

~Yo, Zoro-san, you're up early, aren't ya? ~ Placing Yubashiri at his side with the rest of the now well-oiled swords, Zoro leaned against the railing at his back and rotated his neck, a few pops and cracks audible as he did so. "I figured if my napping schedule was already screwed up, what harm would it do to get an early start on training today?"

~Rather sensible, isn't it? ~

~Indeed, ~ chimed Wado Ichimonji as Zoro grunted noncommittally, and stretched a bit more before leaning over and grabbing the materials he'd used to clean and oil the swords, placing them back into the small bamboo box where he stored them. Tucking the box under his left arm, Zoro collected his swords with his other arm and headed back to his sleeping quarters, sneaking in quietly so as not to wake Luffy and Usopp, but found Sanji suspiciously absent.

Hardly needing one guess to ascertain the cook's location, Zoro tiptoed to his designated hammock and its respective corner, gently positioning his weapons against the wall, watching carefully to make sure none slipped. ~Zoro-dono, you're going to practice with us later, right? ~ Eyes shifting about the sleeping quarters though none of the other crewmembers could hear the voices of his swords, Zoro nodded stiffly, and before Sandai Kitetsu and Yubashiri chose to babble, he retreated back to the main deck, heading to collect his weights from storage.

He had always considered himself a strong 'nothing can stand in my way or so help them' hard-ass, fast to anger and violence if provoked the wrong way, but loyal when and where it counted. Luffy seemed to love putting his crew in odd and increasing bad situations where conflict was inevitable, yet Zoro bore no ill will towards his captain. No, Luffy's childlike curiosity was something he'd taken into account when he'd accepted the invitation to join his crew.

Since he'd learned how to cut steel in their recent jaunt in the Alabaster Kingdom, Zoro had been both stunned and livid when he found that opening himself up to the environment had had a surprising consequence. Being able to listen to objects' voices, which was not the fun activity he'd thought it would be. Their ship, the Going Merry, for example, seemed to have an overprotective streak, stressing out in times of rough weather or attack, striving to move that last inch or so that would make all the difference in midst of a whirlpool or cannon blast.

A sort of mammoth mother figure looking after children she just couldn't find it in herself to rid of despite all the abuse the ship had taken since being given to Luffy's crew as a parting gift. Of course, that thought alone creeped Zoro out, but like everything else, it took some getting used to. There was really only one aspect of his awakened ability that the swordsman hadn't been able to stomach: the death cries of the food Sanji prepared day in and day out.

To distract himself from it, Zoro had thrown himself into his training as much as he could, but adding in curious clouds and seagulls, fish that happened to pass by as well as any number of the objects around the Going Merry that started chatting as soon as Zoro appeared, his sleeping habits had subsequently suffered, not just because of well-meaning lullaby-singing swords. Today was much the same; only two hours after he had started training, certain sounds from the kitchen pierced through the air, and unable to ignore them when they grew louder, Zoro strode towards the kitchen to test out an idea.

Standing by one of the counters, Sanji was casually skinning long carrots onto a flat plastic bag, their tiny panicked howling unnoticed by the callused, practiced hands of Sanji as he washed them, causing more pain to the carrots than he'd ever realized. Sanji placed them on a cutting board and smoothly chopped the vegetables into pieces, the large butcher knife twisting this way and that, prolonging the carrots' demise while the cook eviscerated them heartlessly.

Zoro's shoulders flinched involuntarily with every thwack of the knife against the cutting board, and when Sanji wandered off to the pantry for a moment, Zoro felt his stomach twist as a small tub of fish were clutched in Sanji's hands, innocently asking each other just where they were being taken. A tendril of pity started in him and Zoro thought madly before he sprung into action, lunging to the counter and snatching the tub Sanji had sat in the sink for safekeeping.

A bead of sweat running down his cheek, Zoro ignored Sanji's irritated inquiries, and making his face twist darkly, hoping it showed anger instead of panic, Zoro strode to the starboard side of the ship, and without preamble dropped the tub, watching in satisfaction as the previously doomed fish joined their kin in seconds, disappearing from sight in the dark waters. "What in the fucking hell do you think you're doing?"

Zoro hadn't counted on Sanji following him out onto the deck, and his eyes shifting calmly despite his inner turmoil, Zoro turned, crossing his arms and smirking bravely, hoping Sanji took his coming bravado as the cause for a fight. "I hate fish," he announced, daring Sanji to take offense in the statement as he considered anything that could be used in a recipe sacred somehow, only having to find the right combination of ingredients to make anything tasty no matter its origins.

Surprised when Sanji merely adopted Zoro's stance seamlessly, he smirked and stared at Zoro, his gaze near mocking. "Oh, really? I could have sworn you had no problem eating fish before this. Besides, even if you hate fish yourself, I'm still going to add some to the stew I had planned. Luffy will never forgive me otherwise…or rather, his stomach won't."

"Meat is meat," Zoro shot out smartly, hoping to purge the thought of using any sort of animal out of Sanji's head. He didn't think he could take listening to a live creature's screams while it was prepared for a waiting oven or boiling water on a burner. Sanji seemed to be in good spirits though for he merely shrugged and headed back to the kitchen, Zoro listening warily for any sign of cries from within. A shrill keening started, and Zoro found his feet moving before he could stop himself, even as he reminded himself that Sanji would only take so many interruptions in his meal preparations.

Sure enough, the keening seemed to grow louder as soon as Zoro laid eyes on Sanji's next victim, an octopus of middle size whose pain-dulled eyes swiveled upwards, striving to find someone, anyone would rescue them from the sharp edge of Sanji's knife as it chopped off another of the octopus' tentacles. "Now what do you want?" Zoro froze in his small movements towards the counter and clearing his throat, headed back to the kitchen table, throwing an elbow on the edge and leaning his face heavily on his hand, glaring.

He couldn't come out and say he could hear the voices of objects both alive and inanimate, couldn't mention that the knife Sanji was currently using was laughing maliciously as it bit into the octopus, muttering about blood and guts like a bloodthirsty soldier on the warpath. He couldn't say that the frying pan on the stovetop was practically begging Sanji to lay something on it so it could use the killer heat it'd been gleefully building up to drain the juices out of something. Nope, Sanji would probably take one good look at Zoro, claim he'd lost his mind, and then tell him to get the hell out of his kitchen.

The octopus gave a particularly heartfelt squeal, and Zoro shifted to his feet, pacing behind Sanji, unaware of the slow smile that curved Sanji's lips as he continued to mince the animal's tentacles haphazardly. "Don't you have any napping to do, Zoro?"

How the hell am I supposed to sleep when I keep hearing death cries from the kitchen? Zoro thought hotly. If he really wanted to avoid it all, Zoro could head up to the crow's nest of the ship, listen to the inane conversation of the clouds and seagulls mulling about and curl up in a corner. But some part of him knew it would be a form of running away, and Roronoa Zoro was not a coward.

"I'm too hungry to sleep," he lied, forcing himself to stop walking the length of the room and go lean against one of the walls, watching Sanji's knife hover over the cutting board threateningly.

"You're not going to pull a Luffy on me and start whining about a snack, are you?"

Pride welling up, Zoro straightened and glared at Sanji, irritated he was being sniped at so much. They surely didn't get along, but the pair usually reached a silent agreement where they ignored one another if they got on each other's nerves too much. That or fought themselves senseless, working off their aggression before going back to barely tolerating each other. Neither option seemed to apply today. Sanji watched Zoro from the corner of his eye, raising a brow as he waited for a response. Zoro didn't have one handy at the moment, too focused on the octopus as it screamed its last and died when it hit the frying pan.

Relieved when Sanji started preparing a sauce, most of the ingredients he added herbs, Zoro snagged the teapot from the stove, ignoring the object's rant about unwanted molestation. He filled it with water, sitting the teapot underneath an open flame, retreating to his seat at the table as he watched Sanji add cream to a pan, stirring calmly. Cooking was second nature to Sanji and he moved with such ease around the kitchen, one would think his personality would be friendly, easygoing like, but one sentence out of Sanji's mouth and such illusions were instantly shattered.

He'd grown up around former pirates, and it showed in more ways than just his foul mouth. Sanji fought like a bat out of hell with just his legs, a limitation he'd intentionally put upon himself so his precious hands would never be injured. A man who'd worked for his strength, never taking for granted how hard work paid off. Looking at him in that light, Zoro almost respected Sanji despite his quick flirtatious and women abiding nature, not that he would ever admit it out loud.

That's all he would need, Sanji lording the claim over his head at inopportune moments especially in front of the crew who'd forever tease him to death about it for days on end. No, Zoro would keep his mouth shut, and spare himself the embarrassment or so he thought as he remained leaning contently over the kitchen table, his eyes closed and listening for the teapot's whistle so he'd know when to get up.

The rest of the crew was otherwise occupied, Nami tending to her tangerine bushes, Chopper and Usopp engaged in a mock high-stakes poker game, Robin contently reading in a lawn chair underneath some shade, and Luffy perched in his usual position on the bow, pointing out useless things in the sky. It was most likely a peace that wouldn't last with their type of lifestyle. Unconsciously, each of the crewmembers knew to take advantage of the quiet atmosphere whilst they could.

With no more noises coming from Sanji's position over the counter and the silence lulling him into a slight doze, Zoro jumped when a mug was placed in front of him, the scent of coffee wafting into the air near his nose. Wondering how Sanji had known he'd been craving the caffeine-laced stuff, Zoro took an appreciative sip and held the hot acrid liquid in his mouth a moment before swallowing, a light sigh slipping from him afterward.

They'd only recently started stocking coffee in the pantry, and already it had been a daily occurrence to see a pot awaiting those who wanted it atop the stove. Zoro suspected Sanji had had a hand in its fast acceptance among the crew, seeing as he was up before any of them on any given day. Warming his hands briefly against the mug's sides, Zoro watched warily as Sanji plopped a few potatoes onto another cutting board near his left, and fetching another knife, a smaller one this time, carefully began skinning the potatoes, Zoro wincing when he began to hear sobbing noises coming from the apparently still living vegetables.

He'd already rescued what little he could from the up and coming meal, and forcing himself to sit still when the crying got more desperate, Zoro turned his attention to his cup of coffee, leaning closer to breathe in its comforting scent. There was no solution to his problem as far as he could see. Having opened himself up fully to the environment, Zoro couldn't find a way to turn the ability off, and so suffered as he'd done this afternoon, unable to sleep peacefully so long as the voices of everything around him kept on, invading his thoughts, distracting him from working out and lazing about as Zoro usually did.

That was why he'd come here. If Zoro could see what was getting assaulted, perhaps that would lessen its voice yet adding images to the voices had only made it worse. Backed into a corner of sorts, Zoro slouched over the table after draining half his mug and tried to see if he'd missed a possible solution in his thought process, which he'd done at half capacity anyway, distracted as he'd been. Sanji moved abruptly, and Zoro's gaze followed him. He added chopped celery and red pepper to a pot over the stove while Zoro wondered if Sanji had any idea why he was hanging around.

Blinking when Sanji held out a piece of fried octopus on a toothpick towards him, Zoro poked it briefly, trying to see if there was any life left in it, then gratefully took the toothpick and munched on the small piece of meat, his jaw working as the pleasant tang invaded his taste buds. He'd seen the poor thing murdered, and now Zoro was happily eating it. Disturbed, Zoro rubbed a hand against his forehead, sighing when Sanji offered another piece, looking pleased that Zoro had liked what he had prepared.

His fingers brushed against Sanji's as he gripped the toothpick and Zoro froze when a rough familiar voice sounded in his mind, cutting as quickly as a sword. ~Does he even realize how far he's letting his guard down around me? Even if he doesn't come out and say it, Zoro obviously enjoys my company. That shouldn't make me happy…but it does. Damn swordsman. ~ Suddenly, the lingering taste in his mouth went sour. Sanji noted Zoro's tense pose and scowled, yanking his hand away none too gently.

Son of a bitch. Zoro had never thought the problem could extend to the rest of the crew. Having just a peek at Sanji's thoughts, Zoro realized calm as Sanji acted, his mind was ever-working. His opinion of Zoro struck both a nerve and caused an odd reddening of his cheeks. He was Roronoa Zoro, tough as all-shit swordsman, the man with a 60 million beli bounty on his head, why should he care what Sanji thought of him?

In the same breath that he'd been praised, Sanji had also cursed him, and his thoughts ever darkening, Zoro observed his crewmate closely, pondering if Sanji, in fact, liked him on some small level, but was too full of himself to admit it. Confused at the slight hope he felt about that, Zoro finished off his coffee and headed to the stove to pour himself more hot water, thinking ahead he'd have to snag a cupful of the instant powered coffee Sanji had left out for him on the counter.

"Oi, pour a cup for me too," Sanji said in the silence that stretched between them. He ladled what appeared to be a red sauce over the various boiled vegetables and fried octopus. Zoro supposed he had held true to the promise of stew though sauce had replaced the original broth Sanji had probably been planning.

"Make it yourself," Zoro bit out, the irritation he felt in his odd thoughts taking form in his voice. Ignoring Sanji's glare, Zoro poured the spoonful of powered coffee into his mug and headed back to his seat, assuming Sanji would announce dinner all too soon.

A hand on his arm stopped him midway to the table, and all too aware of the threat Sanji presented, Zoro shifted an eye and tried to ignore the plaintive voice that sounded inside his head. ~ Bastard you may be, but you definitely are cute when you sulk. ~

"I just cooked dinner, asshole, the least you can do is make me a damn cup of coffee. I've still got to set out plates and all." His fingers loosening around the mug's handle, Zoro stared in confusion at Sanji, his mind stuck on the thought he'd picked up, particularly on one word the cook had used to describe him: cute.

Zoro wouldn't usually be described as attractive, much less an endearment such as cute. The fact the tidbit had been revealed while Sanji's mouth had formed his usual coarse words led Zoro to believe that it was a statement Sanji had used before. His mind hadn't flinched away from the word, meaning…he'd thought the exact same thing on previous occasions. The idea ran its full course and the realization behind it, Zoro didn't notice the mug slipping from his hand until it crashed to the floor, Sanji cursing as he released Zoro's arm to fetch a dish towel.

"What the hell is wrong with you today? You're taking an unusual amount of interest in my cooking, physically interfering with my dishes, and to top it off, you're not even getting angry when I purposely bait you into a fight," Sanji said harshly, his fingers busy picking up the pieces of porcelain that had escaped the dish towel's initial clutches. The mug was beyond saving and dumping it into a garbage can, Sanji approached again, grabbing Zoro's face and forcing him to look Sanji directly in the eyes.

~ Get angry already, idiot. That way I can kick your ass like usual and you'll get out of my sight. I need you to do that. ~ Despite being on the receiving end of Sanji's gaze repeatedly, in the heat of battle, and a thousand other times since he'd had joined Luffy's crew, Zoro found he couldn't maintain the eye contact and jerking his head to the side, growled when Sanji forced his head back. "What the fuck is wrong? Did you wake up from one of your cat naps and decide to better your relationship with your crewmates or something?"

"Get your damn hands off me!" Zoro snarled, stepping back from Sanji, needing to put some distance between them before any more thoughts came and further bothered Zoro. He'd never look at Sanji in the same light, his mind would forever throw out odd questions that started with 'what if' and peace of mind would be rather hard to find. Zoro did know he wanted closure with the difficulty though. He didn't think he could take going through this with his other friends without losing grip on his sanity.

It was a look within another's being Zoro would rather avoid altogether if he could. Perhaps the reason humans weren't meant to read each other's minds was to protect them from truths and facts they'd be better off not knowing. Sanji's brow narrowed, an odd look came over his expression, one Zoro couldn't recognize straight off. A corner of Sanji's mouth curled, and he closed the distance between them, Zoro unconsciously taking a step backward until catching himself in the act. He stood his ground with his back almost against the kitchen door.

When a hand reached out and pressed against the door behind him, Zoro had a thought that perhaps running away wouldn't be considered cowardly. He was after all fleeing from the situation, not the person creating it. Still not touching him, but far too close for comfort with both hands pressed near each side of Zoro's head, wearing an insufferable smirk, Sanji hovered, his amusement all too obvious. "I'm beginning to think you're trying to avoid me for some reason. Are you, Zoro?"

His throat suddenly tight, Zoro slid his eyes along the kitchen, looking for a mode of escape or an object he could grab onto and beat some sense into Sanji when the door against his back began grumbling loudly. ~I wasn't made to support the weight of two men, how rude it is to presume I'd allow such a thing. Simple courtesy's gone the way of the dinosaurs. ~ Half distracted by the door as it continued muttering when one of Sanji's hands slid down and landed on his shoulder, Zoro's breath caught as he waited for the assault of thoughts.

In that long moment, Zoro realized that the door that had been complaining so loud behind him had gone silent as soon as Sanji had touched him, his bodily presence alone doing what Zoro had been unable to. ~ Ho…this is an interesting development. This close and he's not even trying to push me away. Never thought it of you, bastard. ~ The full implication of the thought hit and color came in a blinding rush to Zoro's face because Sanji had mistaken his hesitation and lack of response as nervousness, maybe even bashfulness.

"I'm not the one pinning a guy to a door," Zoro growled, trying to shrug Sanji's hand off his shoulder discreetly without letting his crewmate know that he was doing it. With his eyes focused just to the side of Sanji's neck, Zoro missed the look of confusion that crossed Sanji's expression before he leaned forward with his mouth just a few inches above Zoro's own, the tension between them turning thick, almost tangible.

With a shudder, Zoro recognized it as sexual, and in an effort to avoid even more close quarters, he leaned back fully against the kitchen door, the item blissfully silent as he did so. "Why do I think you're not listening to me?" Sanji asked quietly, his breath hot against Zoro's mouth despite the four inches he'd managed to add between them.

"How the hell should I know? Get off of me," Zoro snapped, frustration finally breaking through his muddled state of mind. With the sudden influx of near anger, he prepared to swing to the side, forcing Sanji to step aside or suffer bodily harm.

"I refuse." His head snapping up in indignation, far too aware of the fingers that shifted against his shoulder, Zoro's mouth opened and he would have told Sanji to go fuck off when Sanji took advantage of his precarious position, and the scent of tobacco invaded his senses courtesy of the mouth being pressed against his own, surprisingly gentle. ~Smells like cloves… ~

Though Sanji's eyes were closed, Zoro sensed that if he really found the whole encounter distasteful, he could shove Sanji away at any moment. The two would engage in a fight, walk away in a huff, and never speak of the incident again. Perhaps it was the matter in which the hand which had been pressed against his shoulder gently wove its way to his neck, fingers curling against the tight cords of muscles, easing his head back slowly, Sanji ever so lightly deepening the kiss without forcing his will upon Zoro's.

Maybe it was Sanji's sheer talent for the action that caused Zoro's previously tightened fist in preparation to strike out, to loosen, fingers dropping down, along with his arm while his other arm betrayed him and rose minutely until fingers caught in Sanji's right sleeve, the black cloth bunching up. Or possibly it was just the fact that while Zoro had been suffering from his ability for a whole week, losing much-needed sleep, pushing his body over his limits in an effort to disengage himself from his environment, enduring the constant prattle of items and animals all around him, the solution to the whole problem had been in front of him the entire time in the form of a stubborn foul-mouthed chain-smoking crewmate.

In any case, Zoro found he couldn't shove Sanji away and to his amazement, even began pushing back against Sanji, the slight tingling starting in his body causing him to be bold, even aggressive as things progressed until Zoro couldn't tell who it was that introduced their tongue or how exactly Sanji ended up pressed against the door. His legs hiked up around Zoro's hips, one of Zoro's hands lost underneath Sanji's unbuttoned jacket and shirt, the initial hiss of discontent about Zoro's cold fingers giving way to a groan.

~The food…gotta stick it in the fr-, ah, dammit. ~ Grinning smugly, no longer fazed by the fact Sanji's thoughts were all but being broadcast in his mind, Zoro leaned over the body so contently lying against his, his teeth digging in a bit deeper into the loose bit of skin right over Sanji's left collarbone, sure it would bruise later on. "Zoro, the food…" Sanji began softly, his breath hitching when Zoro's mouth found his ear, a play of teeth against it making his leg twitch in a not unpleasant way, squirming a bit when the movement rubbed the front of his pants against Zoro's.

"The fridge, right?" There was a flurry of activity as Zoro leaned back, strained to reach the large pan with the fried octopus and vegetables then cursed as a bit of the meal slipped from the pan on impact with the floor. Sanji broke into laughter as Zoro, red-faced and breathless, obviously eager to continue where they left off, pried open the fridge with three fingers, then shoved the pan, spilled sauce and all into the appliance, slamming it shut.

His amusement cut off by a vicious kiss, Sanji lifted an eyebrow and raising his hands, placed them against Zoro's face, tilting his head to the side as Zoro's mouth ate hungrily at his own, a slight air of inexperience in the act. Zoro was apparently a quick study as soon enough, Sanji was moaning low in his throat, the thought of calling everyone for dinner looking far from his mind. "The…lo-" ~Fuck, if we get interrupted, who knows when this jackass will let me at him again? Gotta lock the door so that doesn't happen…~

"Do I turn it right or left?" Zoro panted out, his left hand already clasped over the kitchen doorknob, fingers on the lock mechanism.

Sanji blinked for a moment, looking stunned Zoro had even considered it. "Left," he answered shortly, bending forward while Zoro turned the lock and nibbled at Zoro's neck, seeming gratified when Zoro tried to stifle a groan unsuccessfully and sank down on his knees unsteady. ~Would he care who played dominant or not? ~

Worrying at a nipple, Sanji suddenly looked up. "I don't care who plays what role." His tongue froze in its path down towards Zoro's bellybutton, and Sanji very slowly straightened, his eyes narrowed into slits, suspicion written all over his face.

"What did you say?"

"Said I don't care who plays what role," Zoro said quietly, his eyes a tad unfocused and breath largely unsteady. After Sanji remained silent for a full minute, irritation flitted into his expression and Zoro sat up, leaning on his elbows for support.

"I didn't say anything about that," Sanji retorted hotly. Zoro scoffed and hooking a hand behind Sanji's neck, pulled him forward until Sanji was on his hands and knees over Zoro's prone body, the latter's hands coming to rest on Sanji's hips, a look on his face that said he was being stupid.

"You didn't say it, you thought…it seemed like it would come up eventually," Zoro amended quickly, ducking his head to focus on undoing Sanji's pants while Sanji himself eyed Zoro closely.

"'I thought?'"

"Forget it." About to protest, Sanji exhaled heavily as a hand bypassed his boxers and went straight to the heart of the matter. Clumsy and far too forceful, but Sanji quickly shifted closer to Zoro's grip, delicious friction building when his cock brushed against Zoro's own, freed after hurried fumbling on both their parts. He looked blind to everything but Zoro's fingers and the hot heat building pleasantly in the pit of his stomach. Sanji froze, his head thrown back, eyes shuttered, body shivering.

"Wait, wai-" Zoro moved a finger moved just the right way, and Sanji unraveled, half-stifling a shout as his back spasmed and the hands he'd been resting against Zoro's hips dug in, fingernails biting easily into flesh, pulling Zoro into his climax with the small movement, the guttural growl slipping from Zoro's throat pulling a chuckle from Sanji's that ended in a gasp as his pleasure seemed to rebound, catching them both off guard.

One last shudder stirring his body, Sanji sighed long and loud, laying his cheek against Zoro's chest, having gone limp over him, seeming unable to move yet. "Get off, you're too hot," Zoro muttered softly, an arm raising and curving around Sanji's back, contradicting his words as muscles contracted and he lightly squeezed Sanji closer.

"Yeah, yeah, just give me another minute."

"Fine, so long as you understand you're being a bother." Ignoring Sanji's quiet laughter, Zoro turned his face to the side, his nose brushing up against the top of Sanji's head.

"Hard ass," Sanji replied a moment later, sucking in a breath as he rose from his prone position, his body looking loose but recovering quickly, eyeing Zoro momentarily before getting up and presenting a hand. "I'm not offering twice."

Clasping Sanji's hand quickly and standing, Zoro nodded his thanks and looked at the mess against his stomach and lower chest, making a face. "How did you end up on top anyway?" he asked, gratefully taking the wet towel Sanji offered. His hand paused when the item didn't voice any objections. In fact, it remained silent the entire time Zoro made use of it.

Waiting for the situation to worsen, Zoro almost missed Sanji's reply. "I thought you didn't care about any of that. You made a big fucking point of it."

Had the encounter with Sanji delivered enough of a shock to his system that the voices had been silenced? Had the solution really been that simple? "Right, right, just cranky I ended up the messiest, I guess." Paying no mind to Sanji's suspicious look, Zoro straightened his clothes and began to head for the door until a thought nagged at him and he twisted the other way, watching as Sanji finished buttoning his jacket and washed his face and hands before pulling the food out of the fridge.

"Salvageable. Could've been worse," Sanji said to himself, reheating the slightly chilled food, distracted. When Zoro placed a hand on the back of Sanji's neck, he started and turned his head, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. Whatever Sanji was thinking wasn't echoing in Zoro's mind and he smiled, dropping his hand and stepping back.

"This doesn't mean I like you or anything, okay? It doesn't make it outside the room and we don't act any different," Zoro said quickly, trying to come up with a reason for approaching Sanji.

Smirking, Sanji turned around and grabbed Zoro's arm, tugging him close enough until the two were inches away. "Agreed, though feel free to come back and help me out with cooking again. You were a great help." His breath a little shaky, Zoro nodded and pulled away, certain Sanji was finding great amusement in the fact that he held leverage over Zoro, but then so did he.

A mutually beneficial situation for the two though somehow Zoro thought neither of them would take advantage of the other. Even if it wasn't spoken out loud, Sanji and Zoro respected each other too much to stoop to such low methods in their ongoing rivalry. As he was stepping out onto the main deck, Sanji's voice sounded from the kitchen, "Could you call everyone for dinner? It's ready."

Making a noncommittal sound, Zoro waited until the kitchen door was closed and leaned over the nearby railing, taking deep breaths, only now letting his relief manifest itself. There had been a moment where Zoro had been afraid the instant he left Sanji's presence, his ability would come roaring back, worse than ever. But for whatever reason, Zoro was alone in his head once more. After letting Luffy know about dinner, Zoro would skip out on food and take a nap. It had been too long after all.

To Be Continued...