Chapter 1: "Not Myself Tonight"
A few scrubs here, some more wipes there… Yes, perfect. Sanji straightened up again in his standing, and happily knocked the heel of his freshly polished shoes against the tiles of his hall.
He looked himself over again in his tall mirror on the wall. Straightening the vivid blue fabric of his new pants over his shoes, he smiled at the combination, pleased. He originally wanted to wear his red cowboy boots to the ensemble, but March was getting warmer, so he thought better of it; he would heat up the dancefloor plenty with just his shoes, anyway.
And how well his newest purchase matched his favourite shirt! The sapphire-like rhinestones covering the boot cut legs of his pants just went so well with the blue-purple wave patterns along his shirt that he almost felt like giggling of joy! How lucky he had been to have found it on discount in a designer store! People really have no fashion sense, discarding a pair of awesome pants like that for half price. But all the better for him! Thank heavens Nami-swan had been there to spot it!
Maybe the tie was a bit too much, though. He fingered it absentmindedly while downing the last of his wine and set the glass down onto the shoes cabinet. The baby pink colour was good in itself to the set, he thought, but he wasn't feeling formal that evening. Maybe if he left it loose around his neck? No, too hobo. Besides, if the night went exceptionally well, it might end up tied around his forehead, like on drunkard old men in movies… His eyes drifted onto his empty glass, as if to question it about his alcohol tolerance for the night.
Nah. Sanji unfolded the tie after all, and hung it onto the coat rack by the mirror; he would put it away later. Instead, based on a sudden and brilliant idea, he undid the first three buttons of his shirt. Yes, maybe even the fourth. He had worked out a lot lately, so why not show it off?
One last comb through his hair, and he was done. Damn, he was one hot son of a bitch. His only goal was to look better than Patty and Carne probably would - which is to say, a little less like shit -, but boy, he had sure outdone himself. The pretty ladies would be all over him at the club…
Definitely not wiping drool from the corner of his mouth, Sanji reached for his jacket. It was barely over his arms when he had already closed the apartment door and started down the stairs and outside. Only when he was already jumping down the street halfway to the Baratie did he remember that he had left his music player at home. Well, didn't matter. The music was already pumping in his head, anyway.
It was just a short walk from his apartment to the Baratie. In spite of that, though, when he saw its fish-shaped design, Sanji didn't even remember how he got there already. Teleport?
Sure enough, the two idiots Patty and Carne were standing in front, waiting for him. These losers. Wearing fucking jeans and sneakers. The one time Sanji was sacrificing himself for their sorry asses and begrudgingly agreed to go party with them, and they show up dressed as if they had just climbed out of a trashcan. Guess who wasn't going to waste his time and sex appeal on these assholes again.
"Finally! Where the hell were you?" Patty called out to him, waving one meaty arm.
"What are you whining about? I'm even early. Since when does that old man let anyone off before 10?"
"Did it ever occur to you that it's just you he likes to fuck over?" Carne grinned.
"Nooo, never crossed my fucking mind," Sanji mocked, sneering, to which the other two just laughed. These bastards… Their brains were so tiny, those bean-sized morsels wouldn't even be worth cracking their heads open for. Before he would lose his buzz, Sanji started down the street again. "Move your asses, let's go!"
If one of them had forgotten that it was Saturday night, the rows and rows of people waiting to get into the Zombie Night club would have served as a great reminder. Patty and Carne would have comfortably settled down at the end of it like grannies in line for their sanitary diapers. Sanji would have none of that, no fucking way. He wasted no time with tugging both of the guys towards the entrance, past complaining dudebros and yammering teens. He was just looking around for a familiar face at the doors when a very grim and ugly one came into view to put a halt to their march. Sanji couldn't decide if his green hair made him look more intimidating or just plain ridiculous, especially as it contrasted with the huge logo of the club, a bright pink crown o on his black T-shirt. That fake scar was especially over the top, though. Sure, the place was zombie-themed and all, but come the fuck on...
"Oi, Zoro!" Finally, Usopp emerged from inside, just as Sanji had hoped. He had his curious bag that looked like a giant purse slung across his back; he had probably just gotten off his shift. Phew, they had still caught him, barely. The green-haired guy that had probably just started his shift as a security guard after him didn't look nearly as pleasant to convince…
The guy named Zoro turned around to the call, directing his ugly mug away from them, thankfully. Usopp clapped both the guard and the rebel on the shoulder, like a glorified peace patriot. His friend Usopp had a tough grip to him now, Sanji noticed. To think he had been this scrawny kid not so long ago… He was almost jealous.
"Let them in, eh, Zoro?" The long-nose nodded to Sanji and his company. "It's his birthday!"
Usopp was making use of his 'buddy-buddy' tone of voice, the one he was always telling jokes in. That either meant that the fake-scarred creep was a tough one, or he was lying. Sanji's bet was on the latter. A bet easily won, since he was pretty sure his birthday had been three weeks ago. Close enough to a white lie? Definitely. As long as it got them in.
"Fine," Zoro scoffed and stood aside, pressing the most hideous metaphorical stamp onto their passports to Partyland. Too bad the guy had a stern voice to match his looks. Sanji would have loved a good laugh at some squeaky-ass voice bidding them inside…
"Have a great time, guys!" Usopp cheered and patted them on the back as he pushed his way out through the crowd of impatiently waiting people.
Sanji sure as hell didn't feel like lingering long, either, and stepped forward. However, there apparently were people outside who didn't think his initiative fast enough, and thus the outline of Carne's pug-nose was imprinted into his back, and Patty's body weight adding to the shove had him stumbling inside. He could barely stay standing, and his colleagues composed a pile on the floor behind him. Fuckdammit. He was planning his entry the whole afternoon… They would pay for this.
Straightening his shirt and mingling into the crowd, Sanji let his eyes get used to the overall darkness of the place. Purple and pink neon lights served as the only illumination. The colourful light ran in tubes shaped like spider webs, hanging above the booths lining the walls that resembled overgrown tombstones and haunted mausoleums. Most of the brightness, however, came streaming from the bar in the middle of the dancefloor, luring in for a just as vivid drink. Its shelves and the counter itself had been built to the likeness of coffins. It made an interesting metaphor, Sanji had to admit. After a few shots especially. And with the prospect of spending the night with some choice idiots, he felt inclined to go deeper into that topic. He was between the stages A-Lil-Bit-Tipsy and Too-Damn-Sober-For-Your-Bullshit, and that wouldn't do.
Just as he was about to approach the bar, Sanji had to stop in sudden recoil. Lola was the bartender again. Oh fuck no. That woman was insane, wanting to marry every possible guy she exchanged as much as two shitty words with... How desperate can one be, hitting on everything that moves? Sanji would never understand. Ever.
Patty liked her well enough, though. Maybe he should just wait until the two of them vomited triple rainbows at each other and have Patty bring them a round on the house…?
"Sanji-kuuuun!"
Oh, could it be? Could his darling angel have descended from the heavens to rescue him? And indeed, there she was, his sweet Nami-swan, waving a graceful hand towards him, beckoning him closer…
The perfect moment was chased away by an ungodly grunt from behind him. Sanji snapped his head back at the noise. Great. Patty and Carne must have been able to scrape their asses off the floor and were looking for him. Turning forward, he sighed in delight; his saving angel was still there, sitting in one of the booths, waiting just for him…!
He had to act quickly.
In a matter of seconds, Sanji was already standing at the booth in question. The good thing about a full house party? You could shove anyone aside while moving forward, because all they would do was think of you as a dancing drunk dickhead, plus they would just bump into someone else instead of falling onto their ass, anyway. Crossing the packed dancefloor was easy, if you had the drive to dive into the mass of sweaty body parts. And oh, Sanji was driven by love. Nothing compared to that. It wouldn't be his fault from there on out if the two muttonheads couldn't follow suit, right?
"Come on, Sanji-kun!" His fiery red haired angel beckoned him to the spot in opposite of her at the rickety wooden table. Their booth looked like the torn-off bottom half of a small pirate ship, with planks and ragged sails hanging about. The benches were cushioned, at least. Nami-san's comfort came first.
"Nami-swaaaan, it's so good to see you! You shine the light on this dark pla-"
"You're just in time!" Nami interrupted, slapping her palm and bracelets onto the table. "Keimi has just lost our drinking contest, haha!"
"Keimi-chan is here, too?" Sanji clapped his hands together in glee. Finding a mermaid oasis beneath the ruins of a derelict ship - oh, what a lucky sailor he was! "Where is she?" He looked around excitedly.
"Urggghhhhh…!"
The loud, horrific groaning from somewhere next to him had Sanji clap his hands together again. Repeatedly. Like a circus seal from a cartoon. In denial, he quickly dropped his palms down onto the table. Nope, nothing to see here.
"I'm over here..." A more pleasant and much more audible voice spoke, and from somewhere under the table, Keimi-chan's adorably unruly head of hair emerged, just high enough to smack down onto the table again. "Hi Sanji-chin, I didn't know you were also… Urghhh..." Sanji kept conveniently looking over the fact that Keimi had the most disturbing facial expression, and if at all possible, produced even worse throaty screeching whenever she was in distress; scared, or much too drunk, for that matter. It all just added to her cuteness, he decided.
"Awww, Nami-swan, you should have warned Keimi-chan how glamorous you are at drinking people under the table..."
Sanji wished he could have seen it, though. Nami-swan, his fair and feisty goddess bringing the brave and beautiful Keimi-chan to her knees… Waves clashing, classes clinking, drinks spilling, cardigans thrown aside, drunk hugging… Shit, he needed a handkerchief, stat!
"Hah! And where's the fun in that?" Nami countered with a loud and very charming cackle. How noble of her not to note his embarrassing nosebleed with anything more than a most adorable nose-wrinkling. "Well, she said she drinks like a fish," she shrugged, "so I thought she could handle it. Right, Keimi?" She poked the dizzy-looking girl with the butt of her empty beer glass.
"Then you drink like a mutant whale…! Hey! Hahaha! No, that tickles! Ack, cooold!" Keimi-chan tried to swat the glass away from her ears and neck, her giggling turning into shrieks. Then, in a split second, she went back to gripping the table's edge, so tightly as if she was being sucked in by a whirlpool. "Urghhh, nooo, everything's spinning…!" Well, it probably must have felt very much like it. Poor sweet naive Keimi-chan. There must be something Sanji could-
"I'll get you some water, Keimi-chan!" He sprang up from the table. "That'll definitely make you feel better, my darling mermaid princess!"
"Don't bother, Mr. Prince," Nami waved a hand while readjusting a glass that still had most of the beer in it on the table; probably what Keimi-chan couldn't finish. Nah, Nami-san couldn't have been rolling her eyes at him. And if she would have, she was a beauty while doing that, too, Sanji was certain. "Shakky-san should be back soon with some water for our beached fish-girl."
"Shakky-san? Shakky-san is here?"
"Ah, look who it is!" As if summoned by her name called out three times, Shakky stopped at their table with a large tray in her hands. "If it isn't Kuroashi-chan. Care to help me with this?"
"Of course! Anything for you, Shakky-san!" Sanji immediately sprang out from behind the table to take the tray, and to let her slide into the booth.
While Keimi-chan slid onto the narrow part of the U-shaped bench at the head of the table to give Shakky space to sit down, Sanji set the copious amounts of drinks down onto the table. Well, to be fair, there was a bowl of salted peanuts between the glasses, but there were just so many of those around it that it was hard to spot right away. Who the hell was going to drink all of that…
"Oh look, Sanji-kun!" Nami exclaimed. "Shakky-san brought your drinks!"
"Well no, this one is mine," mature and gorgeous Shakky-san replied with a chuckle, elegantly lifting a glass of wine off the table. "And this is for Mermaid-chan," she said as she set a bottle of mineral water in front of the groaning Keimi-chan. "There are peanuts for you, too."
"Thanks so much, Shakky-san, you're my hero…!" Keimi-chan lifted her head to smile over at the older woman.
"Sure. That'll be ten thousand Beli, please," Shakky-san extended her hand as if to expect the payment immediately, and Nami in opposite broke out laughing. It wasn't so hard to see how the two fabulous divas bonded.
"Uaaaagh, how cruel!" Keimi-chan wailed with her eyes popped-out. "You guys are awful!" She complained, taking her water bottle with the cutest pout Sanji had ever seen. Though, after her eyes wandered to the lamp in the middle of the table - an old oil lamp, refashioned to be an eerie lava lamp -, the bright pink and red hues probably made the world spin with her again, judging from how her head fell back down on the table.
"Well, she won't be needing this anymore, right?" Nami-swan moved to take the beer glass with still some in it from in front of her.
"Shakky-san," Sanji turned to her after she stopped chuckling. It was too wonderful a sound to interrupt, after all… "Didn't you say you wouldn't set foot in here again? Because the Zombie Night is your rival?"
"Oh, that was before it changed owners. That Moria fellow gave me a lot of bad advertisement, so I wouldn't do him a favour by buying his drinks. But Perona-chan seems much more agreeable." Shakky-san explained while Sanji took a sip of his drink and…
Wait. When did he…? Sanji took a peek at the glass, and found a trail of glittery lip gloss stains on the rim. That was… How did Keimi-chan's glass get into his hands?
"Can you imagine her owning a bar, though? With all the money involved? I bet she's getting help from someone..." Nami-swan put in. Not even a dozen glasses of beer could make her less serious about money matters. Nami-swan was so magnificent while she was being economical~ Oh, and the sweet innocent face she looked at him with, after she glanced at the glass in his hand… "Aww, what is it, Sanji-kun? We shouldn't waste that booze now, should we?" Ah, Nami-swan was absolutely wonderful when she was practical! Sanji was falling in love with her all over again…!
"Well, she might have partnered with someone?" Shakky-san suggested. "I've heard all kinds of rumours about the owner being an aristocratic master of some kind of martial art… Or maybe it's the government?"
Ah, Shakky-san was blowing him away with how knowledgeable and mysterious she spoke… She was pretty famous for holding a lot of information on the comings and goings around town, and beyond. She could have been some kind of spy, playing the head of a bar. On a mission to steal Sanji's heart, probably…!
"In any case, Sanji-kun," she smiled at him, "it never hurts to see what the competition is up to."
"Not that anything could compare to your cozy tavern, Shakky-san. No need to worry!"
"Hah, I bet you would say the same to Perona if she happened to show up..." His fiery goddess jested, delicately downing half a glass of beer. Why yes, she was still absolutely stunning while rolling her eyes, too.
"Oh, right, Nami-swan!" Sanji set his empty glass onto the table. "How come Vivi-chan is not here? You party together since college..."
"Oh, yeah, Vivi..." Nami averted her gaze for a moment. "She um… She said she has a lot to study for. For her second degree." She said with a smile. Nami-swan's smile was as brilliant as a thousand jewels, but looking at her now, Sanji felt his heart shatter like mere glass. "Wow, a second doctorate. Our Vivi-chan is so smart, isn't she?" She announced, forcing a laugh.
"Nami-san..." He blurted. Something must have happened. He had to…!
"Okay! Let's hit it, Sanji-kun!" His angel suddenly exclaimed, and raised her glass to her lips to empty it all in just a few refined gulps. And just as swiftly, she set a full glass of beer in front of him with a clang. "May the best one win!"
"B-but Nami-sa-" No, he shouldn't. His glass of wine at home and Keimi-chan's beer was already messing with his vision. Taking on Nami-san in a drinking contest would be downright suicidal…!
"Oh, another match?" Shakky-san leaned an elbow over the table, amused.
"Ughhh, I can't watch..." Came some whimpering from Keimi-chan.
"One…! Two…! Three!"
Oh no...
Most of his beer was on its prickly way down when Nami-swan's glass already slammed down onto the table. She swiftly took another one from the tray. When she turned back, Sanji felt fidgety under her expectant gaze. He should have just drawn back and admit defeat; he obviously couldn't win against his dazzling queen… But by then, Shakky-san was kind enough to set a full glass of beer down in front of him. Shit…
Gone was a second glass. Then a third. Sanji only remembered half of the fourth one, and he vaguely recalled the other half landing on the table and on his new pants… But relentlessly came the next glass, and then yet another, until Keimi-chan climbed over Nami to run out to the bathroom, and Shakky-san excused herself to get some more to drink. How did she get out from nexto to him? Did he stand up? Did she climb, like Keimei-chan? Fuck, he couldn't remember…
"Stop your frowning and drink, you scurvy sea dog!"
Nami-swan hooted. Was that really what she said? She reached over to tilt his glass a bit more for him. Did she want to spill his clothes so wet that she would have to… strip them… off…?
Sanji heard Nami-san raising her voice in complaint. What the hell was she saying? Something about precious uh… goose? Ooze? Something, 'ruined by snotty nose-blood'. What blood? Where? Oh, right, it was his! Sanji heard himself laugh, or at least he thought he did… Damn, his kerchief was soggy and beer-smelling…
In the next second, he was opening a door. How did he get in there? Where…? Oh, right, bathroom. Man, he really should stop teleporting all over the place… Fuck, the light was stinging his eyes. No, wait, that was smoke. Smelled of it, too. Sanji noticed he was looking down onto the floor, at his shoes. No, definitely not on fire. Why would they be? Oh, yes, that's right, something about heating up the dancefloor… Shit, he wanted to dance. And to smoke… Who was smoking?
"Who's smoking?!"
"Who's asking?" How annoying, answering a question with a question. Even if it was a lady…
What?
"Over here, pretty boy," he heard the same voice again, and as he looked up - why was he looking down again? -, he spotted a pretty lady sitting on the counter in front of the mirror, with rows of sinks built into it. Wow, what a beauty… Long, gorgeous legs and a very short skirt, and oh, an apron! A slender waist, budding breasts, long, curly hair… Was he imagining her? "Hey, can you hear me? You want a smoke?" The way she spoke, it sounded kind of rough… Well, Sanji supposed he liked it rough. He. Hehehe.
"Hehe… Uh, no, um..." Shit, he might even marry this girl one day and he's making a fool of himself. Where was it… Where was it…?! He frantically patted around for his cigarettes and lighter, even though his hands felt as heavy as lead. The pack he pulled out of his pocket was dripping… Did it melt because his pants were too hot? Hahaha...
"Well, those won't be burning anymore," the pretty lady laughed. "Here, funny guy. Have one."
She extended an opened pack of cigarettes towards him. Sanji had it between his lips before he even took it out, so he obviously had to take one out now, or else the space-time continuum would slip and… What?
"Hey-hey! Just one!" The lady pulled her arm and the cigs back. She stuffed the box between her breasts. Or was there a pocket? What, on her breasts? That's ridiculous… "Come on, let me light that for you."
She was beckoning him closer with a finger, and Sanji obliged gladly. Ow, why was the sink digging into his side all of a sudden… Looking up, he found himself looking down a barrel of a gun, because that was a natural thing to do, and…
"Eeeh?!"
"Relax," the lady said, and she pulled the trigger… kindling fire at the end of the gun. "Just kidding. It's a lighter."
Making sure the cigarette is in his mouth - oh, maybe he had just crumpled it, whatever -, he leaned closer to the flame. Damn, it was hot. Was his hair burning? Oh god no! He fumbled over his hair in a panic, but there was nothing on fire. Phew. His face was feeling kinda hot, though, now that he mushed his palms against his cheeks. Oh fuck, need to suck on that cigarette before it goes out…!
Sanji took a deep drag of the cigarette, and so did the lady, tilting her head back. It had a minty flavour. He liked minty.
"Oh, look at you two! Like peas in a pod!"
Suddenly, the bathroom became very crowded. There were six ladies, with fancy hairstyles and even flashier clothing, tumblring out of the three bathroom stalls. How did they do that? And why were they all in the men's room...? Because, well, the curly-haired lady with the gun was obviously there to lend Sanji a gun - no, a lighter -, but the others?
"Look, it's as if they would look into a mirror! That haircut would suit you, curly boy~" They kept insisting, so Sanji looked into the mirror. He didn't get it.
Oh shit, his nose was still bloody. Bloody hell. He turned the faucet nearest to him to get some water, but the damn thing just wouldn't budge! Which was did faucets open again? Do people actually know that? Ah, finally, water… Sanji bent down to try and wash the blood out of his moustache. Hey, hey, hey, where was his cigarette going?!
"You want to drench this one, too?" The curly maid lady scorned, bonking Sanji in the head with her lighter. Oh, she had his cigarette! How did she do that? "You must really not be thirsty anymore..." She sighed and turned to the other ladies queueing at the sinks behind each other. "Are you done in the stalls, girls?"
"It's all yours, my dear~" One of them chirped in a very cutesy way. Somehow, they all sounded like old women…
"Thanks!"
Just as she hopped down from where she had been sitting, the door opened, and a seventh lady entered the bathroom. Or was she the eighth?
"Oh, Carol-sama, where were you?" The women in the queue called to the newcomer. Newkama. Hahaha..! "We're almost all done!"
"Hi Baby!" She called to the lady at the sink. Were they dating…? "The ladies room is still being cleaned, then?"
"Yeah… Never mind me, ladies, It'll be just a sec."
The maid held her cigarette stub under the sink in front of Sanji to extinguish it. Oh, right, the water was still running… She twisted the faucet off before he could, though, and stuck his cigarette back into his mouth. Then she stepped around the other ladies to get to the stall in the middle. Wow, she was so slim compared to the others. Curvier, too, and much less… hairy...?
Sanji's midsection view shifted from the door closing behind "Baby's" perky butt - did he really just think that, pfff -, to one of the ladies stepping to the wall between the door and the row of stalls. Wait. What was she doing at that urinal? Was that… Were those… panties, on the floor around her ankles? No, a thong. A pink one, with frills and teddy bears on it. Ducks were cuter… No, nono wait, were girls supposed to be able to piss in an upward curve like that? Or was that apple juice? Why would she waste…? No, that was piss. And that, over there, under her dress, that was a d… d-di…!
Sanji felt his face burning again. He reached up to pat over it, his fingers found his cigarette, so he pinched it tight and sucked on it deep. Eyes closed, keep it down, let it out slowly… Everything would be clear again. However, his warmth turned into cold sweat running down his back as he dared himself to look again. All around were hairy legs, wide shoulders, no breasts, square jaws, wigs…
What the flying mothership of gracious fucks was going on?!
"Awww, Tibany-chan, look what you did! Sweet curly boy over there looks so embarrassed!"
"My oh my~" The la- devil called Tibany made a show of pulling her thongs back on in a very schoolgirly manner. "Have I startled you?"
"Aww, look, he's so shy~ He's blushing!"
"Now-now, girls, you're scaring him!" The big, chunky one with the red wig standing nearest to Sanji, Carol-sama, stepped even closer to him.
She- He was trying to grab his face, but Sanji doubled back, sliding further along the line of sinks, stepping on a few huge feet. However, his back soon slammed against the corner where Baby had been smoking. Fuck, he was so distracted by his hand being at the very spot she had been sitting that he couldn't evade the hand reaching out to grab his chin, pluck his forgotten cigarette stub from his lips and then… wipe some blood and water off his face with a handkerchief? Eh?!
"There we go," Carol-sama muttered. "All better, see?" S- He smiled a pot ugly, but not unkind, smile and patted Sanji's cheek with a perfume-scented hand.
"Um… T-thanks," Sanji stuttered. W-was it over…?
"Hey, Carol-sama~" One of the… the okama, spoke up. "Put your hand back on his face for a second!"
"Hmm~? Like this?" He placed his hand back onto Sanji's face. It was so soft...
"Oh yes! Just look at that red nail polish against his skin! That tone would suit him so nicely, wouldn't it~?"
"Well, I don't knooow… I think pink might go better with his eyes," Carol-sama examined his face scrutinizingly.
"Oh, and what perfect blond hair he has!" The she-male Tibany commented in an off-key sing-song voice. "It's natural, isn't it? I'm so jealous~ Oh yes, yes, I vote for pink!"
"I think I have that fabulous glittery polish in my bag! Aww, but it's at our table..."
"Well then, ladies," Carol-sama smiled wickedly, and a thousand times more hideous. "Let's strut!"
The huge red haired fiend grabbed Sanji by both of his hands and started skipping out of the bathroom with him like an oversized, lovesick frog princess. The other monsters kept squealing and pushing him along, through the door and the dancing crowd. He felt so damn dizzy that he wished he could teleport back into the bathroom, or else…!
"Poor dear, you look even paler!" A grandma-voice fawned over him. When did he sit down…? Where was he? Nami-san, Keimi-chan and Shakky-san weren't here, and the lamp looked like a pile of rainbow puke, pink and blue and green and glittery... "Here, this should help." Someone shoved a glass into his hands. It was water. Oh thank god, he was so thirsty…
Sanji took another glass, though he couldn't quite pinpoint from where. There was not much in it and someone lamented next to him. Well, he would have complained, too, if someone had served him a half-assed drink like that… Oh, but it was tasty! Kinda fruity, it barely even stung. Wow, what a weird glass, though. He had never held a cone-shaped glass before, with a stem this long. Why would he be holding the long stem of anything…?
"Oh look! I think we found Curly boy's favourite drink!"
"Don't worry, sugar, I'll get another Cosmo for you. Just sit tight and let Carol-sama finish your nails, hmm~?"
Someone gave a couple of enthusiastic pats to his hand. The hellish giggling around him seemed to intensify as he looked at his other hand, his nails as glittery pink as the table lamp. They glimmered when he moved his fingers. It looked…
"...pretty, akshually..."
"Ah, I knew you would like it~!" Carol-sama giggled and went to adjust his hair. "So gorgeous! Hey, does someone have the lipstick from the Pretty Pixie Princess collection?" Retchy Shitty Prince? Who would make make-up like that? It would make for a decent insult, though. For himself, maybe, pffft. Better forget it, before he gave someone any hints.
Ugh, Sanji wasn't feeling too good. He probably shouldn't drink anymore. Or drink a little more? Did he mishear his mind taking?
"Okay, open your mouth a little, sweetheart. Good boy, now hold still~" His lips felt sticky and smelled of wild raspberry. Was he drinking that Cosmo stuff? He swallowed. Nope, still thirsty.
"Oh, you look to die for! Come here, darling, I need a picture!"
All that flashing hurt his eyes. He wanted to yell angrily for them to stop, but his rage blew up in laughter instead. A phone screen was shoved into his face. Fuck, he looked pretty. Way prettier than any of this pack of devils. He was the motherfucking princess. He could have kissed the screen. Oh no, he shouldn't; the lipstick would come off…!
"Shit, I'm shooo drunk…" He heard giggling, and felt his breath growing short. Was that voice… his?
The world turned a few times again, and Sanji was seeing a lot more lights; laser beams, colourful dots and white flashes that illuminated the whole dance floor for a split second each time. Like seeing millions of photographs being shot. Sanji was in them. That was kind of cool, he found, but it also made him hella dizzy.
Sanji's body felt heavy, but his movements were still languid and smooth, twisting and and tilting from side to side. His face was burning up; the waft from his hair as he shook his head was very welcome against it. Shit, he was getting dizzy. Okay, deep breaths, just keep moving… Yeah, you pink fruity alcoholic motherfucker, stay down... His belt slid a bit too low on his waist, and there was a waft on his bare skin above it the more he moved. But he left it that way. His hands were busy holding someone's hand from each side, dancing in a circle. And anyways, he felt kinda sexy, making his waistline slip and slide a bit with shaking his hips. He could flaunt it. He wasn't working out for nothing. The heat was spreading throughout his body, and Sanji wanted to groan, but instead screamed the refrain of the song together with the crowd. Shit, he was drunk off his ass… But who even gave a damn, he was fucking dancing!
The girls sure had a lot of stamina, but also high heels, so they left the circle one by one, until Sanji was the only representative left on the floor. Fuck sitting down, he wanted to move.
He had hands and waists and asses pressing against him sometimes, maybe for minutes, maybe for hours; he didn't count the songs anymore after a while. Hell, he stopped giving any fucks about the perfume filling his nose being feminine or not long ago. Cheering, he kept on with the grinding and groping, regardless of soft curves or hard features. He was getting kinda horny… Shit, that was bad.
Bathroom. He needed to get to the bathroom.
A few shoves, slamming and involuntary grind-pasts later, Sanji was on the shores of the sea of raunchy dancers. Enough with the shitty sailor metaphors already.
More importantly, men's room, men's room, men's room. If he hadn't felt like tugging on the waistline of his pants before, he sure as hell itched for it now. Fuck, he probably shouldn't have pulled his belt up higher just now… Shit. That felt good, but shit. He could have worn a shirt saying 'Awkward Boner of the Century', and it would have been less embarrassing. Oh fuck no, the thought of a boner just made him all the more aware how difficult it was to walk… Shit, why did he get this drunk...
Sanji all but kicked the bathroom door open. Yes yes yes, nobody there! He went straight for the stall in the middle, all but falling against it. That was where Baby-chan…
"I'm in here!" Someone called from inside the stall. Fuck fuck fuck.
"Hey you!" Sanji slammed a fist against the door. "Get the fuck out of there, now!" His head was reeling. Someone defiled the stall where Baby-chan…!
"No chance, man. Won't be done for a while." There was a giant farting noise. "Could take hours..."
"Then hurry it the fuck up!" Sanji kept hitting the door with both hands, then his knee. "Get out!"
"Hey, there are two more stalls, you lunatic! I'm takin' a shit here! Buzz off!"
"Get your shitty ass off that seat! Baby-chan's… Baby-chan touched that seat! Get out! Get the fuck out!"
The rancid shitty bastard that stole his moment of bliss was squealing behind the door, which was increasingly wobbling under Sanji's kicks. What if he just broke the door down? Could he break it down? Oh yes, he could break this shitty door the fuck down!
"Oi, you! The hell are you doing?!"
Heavy steps stomped along the tiled floor. Sanji could barely turn around and raise an arm before two hands gripped fistfuls of his shirt to pull him away from the door. Even with Sanji's palm smothering his face, that infuriatingly green hair gave the security guy away. Not him again…!
"Let go of me! Shitty asshole!" Sanji raised his leg to deliver a kick, but he didn't let the bastard drag him away from the door far enough, and his knee just slammed against the trembling wood again. Damn, not enough room!
He lost a precious few seconds like this, all because of his cocktail-clouded mind, and the green asshole made sure to take advantage of that, slamming Sanji's back against the stall door. He probably did it because he couldn't get rid of Sanji's hand squeezing his face. Without letting him go first, of course. By how he kept tearing at Sanji's shirt, he didn't look like he was planning to do that any time soon...
However, pressed against the door, Sanji had the perfect opportunity. His knee made fast and intense friends with the idiot's stomach, and the shitty musclebrain trembled and shrank with it. That's what he got for chasing all of his sex drive away with his bare existence. Not to mention almost ruining his favourite fucking shirt.
Though, when Sanji aimed to triumphantly twist around the bastard and away from his confinement against the stall, he was roughly yanked back by his arm. Sure, the fuckface was leaning against the door, heaving his breaths, but his hold on him felt like iron. Huh, looked like he could actually use those muscles of his.
Sanji shifted his weight slightly, and used the bastard's arm as leverage to lean on, jump up in the air and spin a kick against his head. Well, that was where he aimed, anyway. So instead of knocking the green gorilla's head against the door, only his own foot made that impact, flying past the guy's head and splintering a hole into the door. And when he was about to reach the ground, the shithead let him go! Sanji thus went crashing into the counter of sinks behind him with all his momentum, the edge digging into his stomach. It took a lot of willpower to keep his puke down.
"You shitty son of a cumstain…!"
His dizziness was winning, however, and he had to curl over the basin, retching and shaking violently to try and hold it back, in vain. Had he known he would have to smash someone's head in at the end of the day, Sanji sure as hell would have cut down the booze dose. Not his fucking fault. He was expecting to have other kinds of action...
"Had enough already?" Just as he finally fumbled the faucet shut after washing his face, the security gorilla spoke up from behind him.
The green bastard didn't make a move, though, oh no. That pile of antelope shit was just standing there, like a glorified fucking hero of wet dream defiling club-bathroom shitters. Damn, he was pissing Sanji off!
Bracing himself on the rim of the counter, Sanji sucked in a breath, jumped up and spun his legs around. The head-kick was spot-on this time, and the big buffoon went slamming against the bathroom door; and since it was a push-door, he even spilled outside and knocked a few people over. Sanji's head swam and he tasted acidic alcohol on his tongue again, but shit, it was worth it.
"Hey, you green clump of ass-hair!" He dashed out after the guy. "I'm up for dessert! … Huh?"
Aside from the people his fall had knocked over, there was no sign of that green bastard, no matter how many times Sanji whipped his head around. What the fuck? He was starting to feel dizzy, so he'd better show his face! Where did that shithead go?!
"Over here, princess!"
Well, it was actually nice of him to give Sanji a warning before he punched him in the face. Nice, and also ridiculously stupid. Because, you know, Sanji could have simply parried the hit with a kick or some easy shit like that.
That would have been such a blast to that idiot's smug face! But no.
God knows Sanji tried. Though all that the attempt resulted in was Sanji not only doubling back, but also falling back into the bathroom, since his leg - and bodily strength - was up in the air. Shit, he was never gonna drink again…
Sanji's eyes fluttered open again fuck knows how much later. From darkness to darkness - the first thing he beheld was an ass - the body part - in black pants, hovering right in front of his nose. Or, well, it didn't take that long to find out that it was him leaning over it, rather. Upside down. A door closed behind them, he saw as he lifted his head, and that shoulder was digging into his stomach especially well as it was slammed shut. Sanji didn't even have to look further to know who it was… About the onlí time a man wanted to vomit on a bastard's ass, it was just not coming out, of course.
There was white underwear peeking out from under the black jeans. Wow, how lame…
"Hey, what are you-!"
Snickering, Sanji grabbed the edge of the whiteys as best as he could and pulled them up until he heard threads popping, and then some. The asshole could have dropped him a bit more gently onto the pavement, though…
Well, what do you know? They were outside. Yeah, it was quiet without the pumping party-bass, now that Sanji thought about it. Judging from the worn walls and the garbage containers, they must have come through the back exit. Too bad. More people should have seen the green asshat standing spread-legged like a rheumatic grampa, complaining about his balls. Sanji did mankind a favor with castrating him. The moss-aliens could not prevail!
"Welcome back to high school, bitch!" Sanji broke out laughing, his feet pitter-pattering on the ground.
"Yeah, well, you're the ugliest prom queen I've ever seen," the guy grumbled, stuffing his briefs back into his pants. W-wait, he wasn't really undoing his f-fucking fly, was he…?! "Broke a nail, princess?"
A nail? He's stripping and asks him about his fcking nails?! Sanji involuntarily looked down on his hands. If nothing else, to avoid seeing exactly one dick more than his quota for the night. His nails weren't broken, what was this shithead talking about? What they were was pink and… glittery…
"Heh, you're blushing?"
"Are you colourblind or something, shithead?" Sanji rose to his feet, slowly. "My face is green, like you're shitty head. 'Cause, you know, I can smell the stench of your fucking dick all the way over here and I want to puke all over you."
"Didn't you just puke, you drunk bastard? Anyway, no. Still red." That green-haired musclehead was grinning, fucking grinning at him! Sanji's pulse was pumping in his ears. Oh, he would give that smug, ugly mug if his the makeover of his lifetime…!
"When I'm done with you, a red smear is all you'll be, you shitty rot-brain!"
Preparing for a jump, Sanji bent his knees. As a reaction to that, the bastard slid his right leg back in his stance. Sanji sprang forward, a bit to the right. He was going for the confusion tactic. The anticipated punch whistled past his ear, just as he had hoped, so he could twirl away to the left from it, shifting his weight to propel his knee right into the guy's left side. The air outside helped his fuzzy mind a bit. Not as if he actually needed that to defeat this assface…
Said assface slid his mangy hand beneath his thigh, though. His arm followed, looped into his other arm, and Sanji's vision tilted, and then darkened as he slid off the wall after the impact. He coughed and wiped bloody snot from his nose. Heh. That fucking asswipe. Those gorilla arms of his were not half bad…
It was the shitty bastard initiating the next attack as soon as Sanji got up to his feet. That loser slammed his fist straight into the wall past Sanji's ears. That would hurt in the morning. The green-head's side was wide open to him this way, though…
"What, forgot your glasses?!" So why pass up an opportunity to kick the wound while it's still hot? Or wasn't that how it went…? Well, whatever.
That sorry excuse of a security guy doubled over in pain, and Sanji swiftly slammed him back-first against the wall with all the body weight to him he could muster, only to kick the asshole in the stomach again. Was he grinning now?
And he was. He fucking was! He raised his head and smirked Sanji full in the face. But only after coughing, hacking and spitting onto his fine dress shoe.
This shitty scum of Satan's asscrack…! Sanji felt his chest rattling with a laugh. He was dead, so. fucking. dead!
Sanji drove his knee into the bastard's abs once more, but the fuckface grabbed his leg again, and pushed his back against the bricks, with the edge of his palm digging hard into Sanji's chest. Shit, Sanji had that coming... He was still wearing that ugly smirk, that pile of monkey snot! Seething in pain, Sanji braced himself on the wall as best as he could, and shoved the asshole back with both legs and kicked him wherever he could reach.
The guy staggered back, and Sanji closed in on him, a roundhouse kick aimed at his head. But the shitty fartface saw through it, damn him. The asshole ducked away from the attack, and then, from his crouching state, he jumped forward to grab Sanji's waist to tackle him onto the ground.
They both fell down hard; Sanji first, the ugly bastard on top. Sanji's head landed mere inches away from the wall and a container. Close one…
Yuck, he had green moss all over him. And it was breathing! He was getting goosebumps from his breaths on his chest… Disgusted goosebumps… He had to get him off, before the mutant gorilla thought of doing the same…!
Just as the green-head raised himself up with straight arms, Sanji greeted him with a knee to his chest, then to his chin, then pushed himself off the concrete to pin the idiot down. That resulted in them both continuing to roll, though. For the guy made use of Sanji's own momentum, to push him onto his side, then on his back, forcing Sanji to drag the bastard not only with him, but back on top of him again.
You asked for it, you rotten, fart-sniffing bastard. Ttwo could play that game.
They kept on rolling like the most dysfunctional barrel in history. Father away from one wall and closer to the one in opposite, grappling, kicking and strangling, all the while screaming and growling at each other in the echoing alley. And when they stopped moving in a spiral, they were spinning each other around on their backs with the force of their shoving and hitting, their clothing scraping along the concrete. Sanji couldn't say how long they had been at it. He could only tell that his back was drenched in sweat, his pulse throbbed throughout his whole body and he couldn't close his mouth anymore without falling short of breath.
In a kinder universe, he would have been lying in bed after a round of rough sex, experiencing these same things. But it wasn't that bad. He had been craving a good fight for a while now. And the moment he had seen the green-haired idiot's - Zoro, was it? - stupid face, he just wanted to smash his heel into it… Well, jacking off would still have been a nice touch maybe...
Oh for fuck's shitty sake.
Just how much dancing and fighting did it take to sweat out a night's intake of alcohol? Apparently a whole lot; Sanji was still stupid in the head. As if beating each other bloody in front of the back entrance of a club with a smelly-ass neanderthal with a fake scar could be remotely arou- amusing...
Was it fake, though? That scar. The assface should have sweat it off long ago if it was just a cheap sharpie drawing…
Absentmindedly, Sanji moved his hand from the shithead's chest to touch his left eyelid. The guy spasmed beneath him, under the tense hold of his legs pinning him down onto the floor, and tried to inch his face away. Sanji's fingertips barely brushed over the scarred eyelid before the mossbrain turned his face to the side. There was definitely a bump. A raw patch of skin.
"Wow… It's actually real," Sanji snorted with mild bemusement.
"Huh?" The idiot turned back to show a dumb expression, his quirky angular eyebrow raised. Even his stupid face was angled; fucking pentagonal. Pffft… "You thought it was fake? … Hey, what's so damn funny?"
"Basalt-head…! Overgrown with moss! Hahaha!"
Some of Sanji's laugh came out in coughs, but he just couldn't stop. He even slapped the bastard beneath him on the chest a couple times, even though he was sweaty and disgusting… Oh, the shirt with the pink crown logo was gone. Aww, too bad. Pfffft…!
"What the hell!" With his face red like that, the grasshead turned more into a nice and ripe tomato, and Sanji guffawed even more. He could barely hear the idiot growl, so his hands suddenly being held down came somewhat as a surprise. He moved to hit the asshole's chest again - but this time to get rid of his dirty clutches that were trying to force his arms up above his head, but were rather stretching them to the side, crossing his arms, then untangling them again due to Sanji's resistance. "You drunk bastard!" The moss-for-brains barked. And as if he had gained energy from his own voice, that smug-ass fartbreath, his arms bulged and trembled with effort as he brought the captured hands together between them. "You want more? Huh?!" He couldn't just push their hand-knot down into that ugly face, Sanji observed, grunting. Then grinning. Not without a little help.
"Shit yeah!" He yelled, then jerked forward with gusto, full against their fists. Sure, his head was pounding like fuck. But that 'oof' the bastard shat out of his mouth when he was smacked in the face by his own knuckles… Oh, it was so sweet.
Sure enough, that seemed to have stopped the blockhead from trying to force him into unfriendly yoga positions. Peeling their awkwardly joined hands off his assface and finally letting go, the bastard revealed a glorious red circle around his right eye, and a satisfying red little streak leaking from his nose.
Tough when the idiot flashed a grin and poked his tongue out to lick up the blood… Sanji's head was throbbing worse by the second.
It didn't help matters that the fucking asshole punched him straight in the face, making him slam down onto his right side on the concrete. A wonder how one of his kicks could hit the mold-head's groin just as the bastard was about to hold him down. His mutant muscles weren't so tough against his legs pushing into his shoulders, however. Sanji snorted as he watched him struggle. The big green doofus looked like some frenzied ape, caught in a fence. His face fit the bill so well, too.
And then, the next miracle happened - the asshole proved to be smarter than a monkey and went to encircle Sanji's knees with his arms. Oh fuck no…! Sanji was too late with his evasive struggling. The guy had already lifted him off the ground and started spinning him, around and around and around again, throwing him back down onto the floor between the full bags of garbage lining the back of the alley. A string of vomit was hanging from Sanji's lip when he finally got a grip, on his hands and knees on the floor. What a convenient pose for the shitface to come standing in front of him to. That shitty son of a cactus…!
Sanji shifted his body weight onto his palms bracing the ground, and kicked his legs into the air to blaze in from his right to knock the fucker off his feet. Now it was the shit-eating bastard flat on the floor and Sanji pinning him down. Hah! Trying to force the guy down with his legs at his waist hadn' proved as a good strategy - he could just grab Sanji's arms and overpower him again, no matter how shitty that sounded. So what? Not as if he couldn't just crush the motherfucker's arms with his legs directly.
"Give up, Marimo head," Sanji huffed. He'd better. His stinkin' face between his legs was making him hella uncomfortable…
That proved to be a valid fear pretty soon. That heap of toenail-scum fucking bit into his inner thigh! Palm-edges were really testing the limits of his stomach now, digging into his abdomen and pushing him backwards. Sanji fell back onto the mossbrain's belly. No, that wasn't it. While shifting his legs for support, something brushed against his ass…!
"What the fuck?!" The screamed out loud. Rage kicked his pulse to infinity, and he whipped his arms forward to grapple the ones threatening to throw him over again.
Pushing himself forward with his toes on the ground, Sanji gave the pisshead a run for his money, their arms shaking with effort in the middle. The green-had huffed and puffed, too, exhausted. He'd better fucking be exhausted…! Fuck that smug algae-infested face of his, he was smirking straight up at him again! He was so fucking dead…
"Orraaaa!"
The bastard bellowed, pushing against Sanji's hands with a force his head might have exploded from. And it fucking worked, damn him to the lukewarm pits of hell - Sanji was losing his footing.
"Oh no, you… don't… fucker…!" He gave his all to slam the guy back onto the ground.
Sanji wasn't moving backwards anymore, but his hands were struggling not to be shot up over his head again. He even dug his fingernails into the bastard's palm, and that crazy idiot just fucking snickered! What was worse, Sanji almost felt like laughing him full in his fucking mug, too.
"Haha!" And suddenly, the shithead was in his face, wheezing his fathbreath onto him like the batshit insane animal he was. No, it actually smelled of… "Gotcha now!"
Sanji's arms were straining painfully next to his ears and his shoulders felt like they would be torn off any minute. But he was grinning right back at that shitty asshole. His panting whistled through his clenched teeth. His breath tasted like puke. Fuck it.
"Oh yeah?"
His neck jolted forward with all of his straining, and grunted when his teeth bumped against that bastard's big nose. Oh? What was that? Did that shit-eating grin just melt off the idiot's face? And on his tongue, was that…?
"Huh..." Sanji took a stinging breath.
The mossbrain should have done the same, if he had known what was good for him...
Like magic, the green-head's arms froze in place at Sanji's sides like pillars of stone. All it took was a small nip to his lips.
Sanji's head was spinning wildly, but he pushed the floaty feeling behind the hot throbbing overwhelming him. It was like being back on the dancefloor, enveloped in dark, vaporous, laser-lit haze, twisting his body to the beat of the bass, tilting his hips forth…
"Mmm..."
And back…
"Hhhf…!"
Come on, damn you. Sanji's tongue came peeking out from between his lips to poke at a tense upper lip. Scratchy… Nipping at it again with his lips, he licked over the chapped skin, then pinched into it with his teeth and finally the bastard's twitched open...
Sanji plunged his tongue inside. He kinda liked that small sound he evoked. It buzzed nicely on his lips…
His hands were on heated cheeks, holding the guy's head steady while he tilted his own. Deeper. He needed to get deeper… Sanji could feel the sweet taste of victory on his tongue, but it was eluding him all the time, with how the asshole's lips struggled and slapped against his. How to distract…
"Mmmf!" There were hands on his waist, pushing him back. And there were blunt nails, too, when Sanji tilted his hips forward again. "Mnnn…!"
It worked like a charm. Sanji twirled his tongue around the other man's, and he tasted the sweetness again, barely brushing against the tip of it. He sucked on the bastard's mouth, tangled their tongues more, sucked again, swallowed…
"Mmngh…!" The shithead wanted to break away? Haha, hell no. With the haze of sweat and strange perfumes flooding his senses, Sanji's body remembered dancing again; grinding, down, harder… "Aahf… Mmm...!" Like the music had, the sounds made him shudder…
Oh yes. Yes, there…!
"Mnnn… Ahhf…!"
He had it. He found it, it was just there…! One more lick, just a little suck and… Teeth came to graze his tongue, but Sanji didn't mind. Didn't care. He had it. He had him….
"Hah… Gotcha..." Sanji breathed. A smirk was tugging on his lips, and the sweetness was filling his mouth. He crewed at the gum open-mouthed. He was right. It was minty. He liked minty…
The magic began to fade as soon as he opened his eyes, though. A shock of green hair, a face flushed red and a dark eye was staring at him, with lips parted, bruised and red, glistening with blood and spit. Sanji could have… could have kissed him again. But he wanted to punch him more... He didn't feel like dancing anymore.
Hands shoving and legs scraping the ground, they scattered apart like two awkward teenagers caught kissing in mommy's backyard. Sanji snorted at that mental image. Wow, he wasn't feeling too good, though… The sweet mint was making his stomach turn, ironically.
Staggering, Sanji stood. He didn't intend to fall against the wall, but he found it not such a bad idea as soon as he was leaning against it. He heard shoe soles sliding and stomping from somewhere near him, but he didn't want to look. He didn't want to turn his head. Or he might… Urgh, shit, he needed water… He needed air… More air… He needed to…!
Sanji willed himself to walk, swallowing hard. Along the wall and around the corner, onto the street, falling against a lamp post, a tree, a stop sign… Damn, why did he forget how to teleport when he needed it most…?
His bathroom floor was pleasantly cold, but his toilet freshener twisted his nose all the more. Oh, okay, he was crawling into the shower, then. That's cool. Wait, he was still wearing his clothes. His shirt was missing. Damn. Well, whatever. Oh god, why were his pants sticky? Puke? No, felt like…
"Aaah..."
A little more wouldn't hurt, he supposed.
Under the cold wash of the shower, with his pants still around his ankles, Sanji stroked over his goosebumps-ridden skin. Disgusted goosebumps. Yes. He rubbed his waist where his belt had slid around while he danced, and then lower, where he had felt the tug… He was in the middle stall, with Baby-chan's perfume around him… Her cigarette in his mouth, tasting of smoke and mint… And then he was chewing gum - chewing his lips instead of the gum he had lost somewhere -, sucking, grinding against his hand, feeling nails dig into his skin… Torn, muffled moaning along his t-tongue…!
"Shit, oh shit, aaah ah shit… f-fuck!"
He had been right, after all. It really did round his night up nicely.