Sky Walk
written by A. E. Stover
this version is not edited

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Originally written for the "One Piece Yaoi 100" LiveJournal community, Sky Walk focuses on Sanji and his struggles with depersonalization-derealization. The writing will change according to the protagonist's state of mind; hence some chapters may be written in a strange manner or style (stream-of-consciousness, etc). Chapter length will also depend on such; shorter chapters may be an indication of a sharp disconnect with reality or an abrupt and random interjection of thought that breaks continuity while lengthier chapters may demonstrate signs of anything from the accepted "normal" state or a sudden breakout.

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CHAPTER ONE—
out of body


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It had been nine hours of chopping, dicing, pounding; and then steaming, sauteing, roasting. His mind was jumbled; what was left, what was right — he couldn't tell. But he felt alright, as if this were how he was supposed to feel. He felt comfortable. At ease, even; so much so that he couldn't tell he'd left the Baratie until he was four blocks away, or where he was until darkness and bass-heavy music flooded his senses. That's alright, he said, he just needed to relax, he just needed to take some time off and relax.

He was sitting at a counter with three drinks already gone when he began feeling his head spinning; but it was slow, so slow that everything blended into a medley of shapes, movements, and then shapes.

He remembered green, and a dark pair of eyes that glinted — the eyes of a shark!— at him and dropped his heart to the bottom of his stomach; but his head, it felt light and it was feeling lighter and lighter every time the man looked at him, spoke to him, touched him; and his touch, god — his touch was like fire on his skin.

And then there was that dark, rumbling laugh — like a tiger— that pulled him in, and then—!

He remembered being thrown on a mattress and being stretched open; then there was a sharp pain, and that delicious friction that came with a thrusting, thrusting, thrusting, thrusting—

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He woke up, hours later in the morning, on a strange bed with a strange man in a strange room, and wondered with a sickening fright with his face in his hands — What did I do last night?

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