"Oi, Shit-cook. Does the TV really need to be that loud?" Zoro walked into his shared apartment with bags of groceries that Sanji had requested him to get on his way home. The trip took a little longer than he had planned however and it was almost eleven by the time Zoro was able to find his way home. "Stupid grocery stores and their confusing numbered aisles. Why the fuck are they numbered anyway? It doesn't do anybody a damn bit of good," Zoro mumbled.
"Sanji, I told you to turn down the TV! Don't fucking ignore me!" Zoro yelled into the living room, already placing the hefty bags on the kitchen table. He walked into the small space turned towards the couch only to find that the source of his annoyance was sleeping rather peacefully on the small blue loveseat that occupied the living room. The man slept with his legs propped up on an ottoman with the TV remote sitting in his lap.
Zoro huffed quietly and took the remote from Sanji's lap and turned down the volume. "I can't believe you watch shit like this. What the fuck is 'America's Next Top Model' anyway?" Zoro muttered to the sleeping cook.
He watched the stick thin models strut down the runway in high heels that seemed impossibly long. He laughed quietly as about half of the women flat out fell on their faces while the people who were apparently the judges made wild hand gestures at nothing in particular. Zoro quickly decided he had about enough of this ridiculous show and turned the TV off, placing the remote next to the cooks feet that rested on the ottoman.
Zoro felt himself glance over at the blond cook, only to find that he now had a small trail of drool coming from his mouth, which for some reason, made him that much more adorable. "What am I going to do with you cook?" he wondered aloud. The green-haired man thought back to the models on TV and sighed. "What do those women have that I don't?"
Zoro knew that his thought were going down a depressing path but he couldn't stop himself. He had asked himself the same question hundreds of times before and he came up blank each time. It wasn't like Zoro was trying to be subtle in his advancements towards the cook. In reality he was probably the least subtle person on the planet when it came to romance. The cook was either a dense moron (which he most undoubtedly was) or he just wasn't interested. With Zoro's luck it was probably the latter but he wasn't going to give up unless he was given a direct and simple 'No' from the cook. Until then, however, Zoro was stuck staring at the sleeping face of his want-to-be lover.
He honestly couldn't remember a time when he had wanted to kiss somebody as bad as he wanted to kiss Sanji. In fact up until the time when he meet the cook a few months ago, Zoro was pretty damn sure he was asexual. But when Sanji had quite literally kicked his way into Zoro's life it was like discovering everything about sex and romance, in the matter of seconds. When Zoro meet the cook for the very first time, at a dirty bar almost a year ago, Zoro was quite certain that it was love.
It wasn't long before the two of them decided to move in together. It was New York after all and the rent was much too expensive for two struggling young adults to afford on their own . Zoro was quite thrilled at the prospect of being able to live with Sanji but he soon learned that living with only a thin bedroom wall to separate himself from the object of his affections was quite literally torture.
Zoro blushed slightly when he realized that he was still staring at the sleeping Sanji. The green haired man waved his hand in front of Sanji's face to see if he was still asleep before getting down on his knees so he was eye level with the cook. He looked around the apartment warily one last time for anyone that might bear witness to what he was about to do. Zoro stilled the odd fluttering in his chest, closed his eyes and quickly kissed Sanji full on the lips. It couldn't have lasted for more than a second but it still caused Zoro's head spin with wildly withheld emotion.
He didn't let himself get too caught up in himself though, in fear that the blond cook would wake up and kick him clear across the Brooklyn bridge. He was stopped in his escape, however, by thin fingers that wrapped tightly around his wrist.
And in that moment, Zoro was truly afraid. He was scared that Sanji would kick him out on the streets and never want to see his stupid face ever again. Zoro gulped. Would he tell all of their friends? What if Sanji really hated him? What if- "About damn time, Marimo." Say what?
Zoro turned his head back towards the cook so quickly, a normal person would have gotten a painful whiplash. "Wha- what did you just say?" He had to be dreaming. This was just too damn weird.
Sanji rolled his eyes. "Jez moss-head, I knew you were dumb but I though even you could understand basic English."
"Huh?"
"Christ! Can it be any more obvious? This isn't honestly that difficult of a subject to comprehend! I fucking like you Marimo! Is that really that hard to- THE FUCK? ZORO, YOU BETTER PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW!"
Zoro threw the raging man over his shoulder who in turn, proceeded to smack the green-haired man's back uselessly. "No way in hell, shit-cook. You're sleeping with me tonight."
"The hell? What kind of fucking foreplay is this? Put me down this instant!" Sanji looked quickly over his shoulder and noticed where they were heading. "That's the bathroom, moron! You're bedroom is in the other direction, you lost dumbass."
Zoro simply smiled. "I know."