ZoSan – Nicknames
A/N: Ehe, what can I say, I get bored easily. This actually came to me at gone 10 at night, and to make sure my inspiration didn't dissipate during the night I groped around in drawers and cupboards trying to be quiet until eventually I ended up writing it in the back of my old physics exercise book. This is my first One Piece fanfic.
Warning: Some cursing, implied sexual situations and also yaoi. If you don't like yaoi then it would probably be best for you to stop reading right now =3
Disclaimer: One Piece does not belong to me, if it did I would have made this happen, plus a lot more a long time ago XD
Sanji paced the galley, trying to rid his mind of the image, the thought of a certain someone who unwillingly was in the back of his mind, every second of every minute, every hour of every day. "Roronoa Zoro" He mumbled, cursing himself silently for speaking out loud and covering his face with his hands, scrunching his eyes shut as he continued to pace.
Now, if it was Nami – swan or Robin – chwan that kept popping up in his head he could understand it, deal with it, and enjoy it. But no, instead it was one of the people he hated the most. "Or thought I hated...Ugh!" He said to himself, glad of the galley's emptiness as he clenched his fists, repeatedly pressing them into his forehead in an attempt to get the swordsman out of his head. It didn't work.
Exasperated (And frankly sick of pacing) Sanji pulled out a chair and sat, placing his elbows on the table and burying his head in his hands. The chef did have a point though, maybe he didn't hate Zoro as much as he claimed, as much as he portrayed. Sure the swordsman was a lazy dumbass with about the same amount of conversational skills as one of his grilled-to-perfection steaks, but if he wanted an in-depth conversation about issues that mattered he could just go talk to Nami-swan, Robin-chwan, hell maybe even Chopper or Usopp, though the last two were a bit of a stretch.
Zoro...he may not have all the qualities the chef liked to see in his partners, but he had something else. The way he moved, the way he fought for his dream no matter what, the way he wore such tight fitting, leaving very little to the imagination clothing...Sanji stopped himself from going on, shaking his head before forming an expression of shock as he realised what he had said previously.
"Partners? Me and Zoro...partners? Though it does have a ring to it" Sanji spoke in an incredulous tone, though he had to admit he didn't mind the idea so much anymore, actually he was rather pleased by the prospect of Zoro and him together. Nodding slightly in determination, he stood and headed for the galley door, figuring Zoro would be on deck napping somewhere.
Which was why Sanji was so surprised to see the swordsman, arms crossed over his broad chest and amused smirk on his face, stood in his way. As the chef stood, open mouthed, Zoro leaned in so their faces were mere inches apart.
"Talking to yourself, first sign of madness, Ero-cook" The swordsman drawled, raising an eyebrow.
"So you heard me?" A nod. "All of it?" Another nod. "Are you angry?" This time, a head shake.
"Why would I be? I'm flattered more than anything else"
"Tch, just get in here Zoro" Sanji smirked, pulling himself together and taking the other's wrist, pulling him into the galley and pushing the door shut. And for the briefest of moments in the flurry of bare skin, sweat, other bodily fluids and lust, it occurred to Sanji that throughout this entire escapade he never used an insulting nickname for Zoro once.
"A-ah! Ngh, fucking hell, Marimo!"
Okay, maybe once.