How the HELL do we always get caught up in these messes, Zoro groans to himself, ignoring the urge to slump forward and bury his face in his arms because he doesn't dare take his eyes off the dark-haired, cheerfully beaming pirate beside him. Not for a goddamn second, not the way he's attracted the attention of what seems like three-quarters of the bar's patrons, who are currently vying for HIS attention by offering to buy him drinks or whatever else he'd like off the menu. Or, in quite a few cases, just straight-up ordering it delivered to him.

The more intuitive of Luffy's admirers have picked up on his lack of interest in alcohol and switched to plying him with food, but there's still a ridiculous number of tankards and shot glasses and even a few wine glasses cluttering the table, and the poor bastard assigned to serving their corner of the room is looking increasingly harried. Not least because he's forced to weave his way through a small crowd every time he returns, and Zoro's seriously debating leaving the guy a sizable tip even though he and his captain have barely ordered anything. They haven't NEEDED to- given Luffy's instant popularity the moment he strolled through the door.

He's not sure if the younger man's recognized all these offers as the romantic- or, several obvious cases, blatantly sexual- overtures they obviously are, but at least his oblivious friendliness towards everybody hitting on him means nobody's gotten offended and there haven't been any fistfights. At least not yet, anyway.

In all honesty, Zoro's sort of tempted to punch HIMSELF for not taking a closer look at the sign outside. Not that it would've necessarily done any good trying to talk Luffy into going elsewhere anyway. He'd been following his nose, too intrigued by the aromatic scent of cooking food. And Zoro- well, of course, he'd been following Luffy, and it hadn't been until they were halfway through the establishment that it occurred to the former bounty hunter that not just the bartender and all the bar patrons were men but so were all the people waiting tables, and the waiters' attire- or, rather, their lack of sufficient attire- had made it pretty damn clear what sort of place they'd entered.

It's not the first time Zoro's been inside a gay bar - far from the first time, in fact, thanks to Johnny and Yosaku, who'd insisted he join them upon discovering he shared their affinity for swords beyond the steel variety - but he'd be a lot more comfortable if he'd come in here by himself. Because having to sit here hoping he doesn't pop an involuntary boner in front of Luffy at the sight of their waiter's extremely nice-looking ass shimmying in those too-tight leather pants AND being forced to sit here watching Luffy get hit on by practically every guy in sight is flustering and frustrating the hell out of him. Even though he's well aware that being jealous of the men openingly flirting with his captain is pretty pointless when he's not sure if Luffy's into the whole dating and relationships and sex thing AT ALL, let alone interested in-

"Oi, Zoro, do you want this one too?"

The swordsman blinks, realizing he's been staring vacantly at a glass Luffy's holding out to him. "Ah- sorry, Sencho." He takes it, casting a brief skeptical glance down at its lurid orange contents and the razor-thin slices of citrus fruit floating on top. "… what the hell is it?"

"I dunno," his captain laughs. "He said I'd think it'd taste good even though I don't like booze, but it doesn't really matter. Zoro can have it. Booze is more his thing than mine."

"He? Who said? The waiter?" He's frowning, trying to recall if he saw the waiter before the drink he's now eyeing even more suspiciously appeared in Luffy's hand.

"Nah, some guy from-" The rubber man's craning his neck, trying to peer across the room. "-uh, some table over there."

Zoro looks where he's poking and spots somebody staring back, who- upon meeting his gaze- immediately begins making exaggerated motions towards Luffy. Obviously displeased and wanting Zoro to pass the drink back. The guy's surely at least twice the younger pirate's age. "That asshole over there, huh?" He glares at the asshole in question, not bothering to hide his anger and disgust and unable to prevent a slight snarl from entering his voice when he sets the full glass down untouched with a rough thump that sends the liquid inside sloshing over the rim and tells Luffy, "Sencho, DON'T drink or eat anything unless the waiter hands it to you himself, okay?"

"Eh? Why not?"

"These guys- or most of these guys- are probably okay… but- better safe than sorry, y'know." He's not sure how much he ought to elaborate on the subject since he doesn't want to freak Luffy out unnecessarily, so he settles for, "… it's just… well, there's some fuckin' weirdos out there 'n you don't wanna drink something that'll make you sick. So be careful, alright?"

"Oh. Okay!"

Zoro tries not to grimace. He should've guessed Luffy would dismiss the warning as irrelevant, some boring nonsense that he'll deal with by pummeling into submission anyone foolish enough to hassle him, should an altercation arise. And in a fair fight, it'd be no contest- but of course the sort of people who slip sedatives into drinks aren't exactly interested in fighting fair. Get your ass drugged 'n you might find yourself waking up in some stranger's bed with a killer headache, a sore ass, and a huge blank stretch when you try'n remember what happened the night before. If you're lucky, that is, 'n don't just end up dumped in an alley with your throat cut.

Nothing Zoro's ever encountered personally, but he's tended to err on the side of caution ever since the time Johnny quietly confessed to experiencing a frightenly close call that probably would've gone very badly if Yosaku hadn't been watching his back. So he knows that kind of shit happens- and that women aren't the only victims.

He also knows it's likely he's worrying over nothing; the odds of anyone tampering with a drink in this well-lit, well-maintained place are probably pretty low, especially with him sitting here scowling like an overprotective gargoyle and since Luffy's only interested in the food anyway, but he can't help being concerned. Sencho's just too damn TRUSTING when it comes to anybody willing to FEED him. Like that time on the island with all the cacti, when the Baroque Works people first came after us. He shoots another nasty scowl at the guy on the other side of room and feels smug satisfaction when his captain's would-be suitor blanches and looks quickly away. Good. Now just keep minding your own damn business 'til I can get him OUT OF HERE.

He's fiddling with an empty shot glass and watching the more persistent of Luffy's admirers attempting- unsuccessfully- to catch and hold his interest, unsure whether he's more amused by how hard they're trying to impress someone who doesn't care enough to remember any of their names correctly five minutes after hearing them or if he's more pissed off they're even trying in the first place, when a hand settles lightly on his shoulder.

Annoyed at being touched without his permission, he whirls in his seat ready to unleash a biting rebuke- that dies on his lips when he sees their waiter standing over him, looking strangely anxious but determined. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpses Luffy pausing mid-sentence to look too, ignoring the aggravated expression of the guy who'd just succeeded in catching his attention. Probably wondering, the same as Zoro, if one or both of them have been recognized from their wanted posters. Or if the joint's owner has simply ordered them thrown out because he doesn't buy Luffy's repeated insistence that yeah, he really IS seventeen despite having what several of the older patrons keep referring to- much to Zoro's discomfort, given the badly concealed leer one of them had given the others- as a "baby face."

Instead of demanding they vacate the premises, however, the waiter drops into the empty chair beside Zoro and- after a quick glance towards the bartender to ensure he's looking elsewhere, occupied with mixing drinks- says quietly, "… my- uh- my shift ends in ten minutes…" Then, after a long pause. "… and my place is only a few minutes' walk from here."

It takes Zoro several moments of wondering why the man thinks he'd care about either of these pieces of information before he realizes he's being propositioned, but when the lightbulb finally goes on inside his head, he feels his stomach perform a quick backwards flip of excitement. He's drawn lots of curious looks in bars just like this one and gotten his ass grabbed more than twice in a few seedier venues, but nobody's ever expressed more than a passing interest in taking him home. Probably because he'd clung to Johnny and Yosaku like a socially inept limpet, too overwhelmed by the noise and the sheer flirtatiousness of the other patrons to spend much time talking to anybody besides them. But this guy seems pretty fuckin' serious 'n he's pretty cute 'n he looks pretty close to my age 'n- holy shit, maybe I could actually get la-

"Sorry, but we were just getting ready to leave!" Luffy interrupts from across the table. "C'mon, Zoro, pay 'im 'n let's go!" He's smiling but there's a distinctly odd note in his voice.

"I could- I could have your crewman back in an hour or two," the waiter assures him earnestly, eyeing Zoro with a hunger that simultaneously startles the swordsman badly enough for heat to start creeping up his neck and face AND causes his pulse to thump harder in his throat with rising anticipation. "… I mean… you obviously have plenty of company here, so it wouldn't be that long a wait."

Shit. Zoro's sense of excitement, momentarily buoyed by the knowledge that somebody's interested in him- in HIM, rapidly deflates. His body's a little slower to respond, but no matter how worked up he's gotten himself thinking about what this guy might be willing to do for him- or TO him- in bed, there's absolutely no goddamn way he's leaving Luffy here by himself while he runs out to get his rocks off with some stranger. He coughs, giving the waiter what he hopes is a neutral smile. "Sorry, man, but you heard my captain. So if you could just bring us the check, we'll-"

The man's hand darts forward to catch his wrist. "Hey- no- at least let me buy you a drink or something, alright?"

"Oi, look- I don't-"

"C'mon, I SAW you staring at me every time I came by the table. We both know you want me to take you back to my place and fuck you senseless."

Zoro can't lie; he's fantasized about finding a partner who's willing to indulge his interests in power play, someone he trusts who'll order him around a bit and get a little rough when the mood's right. But coming from a stranger who's also displaying such an obvious lack of respect for his personal space, it's far more pushy and obnoxious than sexy, and that rather effectively smothers any thoughts he might've been entertaining about returning to the bar alone tomorrow afternoon.

Somebody like THIS- somebody who's grabbing at him like he's the last slab of sea king meat on the plate while ignoring everything coming out of his mouth- is definitely NOT someone he intends to drop his trousers for- especially when his experience with this stuff doesn't amount to much more than some awkward kisses and mutual groping between him and his bounty hunting friends on a few occasions when all three of them had been drinking pretty heavily.

Maybe this bastard picked up on that. Saw me oogling his ass 'n figured I'd be too flattered to turn him down. Just an easy lay.

The polite smile dropping from his face, he's about to tell the guy to get that fucking hand off him unless he wants to lose it, but before his lips can even begin parting to utter the threat, Luffy's lunging full-length across the table to smack the waiter's hand away from his wrist with a stinging slap, growling, "Zoro told you NO, so you better let go of him, NOW."

His tone's so full of raw fury that most of the men surrounding him take a few hasty step backwards, and several even exchange awkward glances and slip away from the table entirely, not wanting to find themselves inadverently drawn into the confrontation in the event it turns physically violent.

Zoro starts to protest that he's perfectly capable of handling the situation on his own, but he's silenced by something in Luffy's outraged expression when the rubber man continues to glower at the waiter as though he'd like to dump the untouched drink still sitting on the table over the guy's head. Something that he's not entirely certain how to interpret. Something that he doesn't quite dare trying to interpret, in case he's wrong.

"No means NO," Luffy continues, bristling. "Don't you dare touch him again! Don't even LOOK at him." His fingers, curled into claws on the tabletop, twitch closed. Balling his hands into fists. "Zoro's MINE."

Staring at the younger pirate's anger-contorted face, eyes slightly widened and his own mouth hanging uselessly open while he struggles to work out what exactly this remark might mean, Zoro's so stunned that he barely registers the waiter's next words, spoken in a tone that's at once taunting yet somehow also entirely serious. Likely a deliberate ploy, so the man can claim he's simply joking should anyone take offense.

"Then maybe I should've been talking to you in the first place. Everything's got a price, captain, so how much for an hour with your-?"

Luffy flings out a fist, punching the waiter square in the face and sending him flying backwards across the room, forcing alarmed bar patrons to scatter in all directions to avoid airborne chairs and overturning tables. He's already got one sandal-clad foot set on their own table, preparing to climb over it and go after the guy, when Zoro snaps back to reality and seizes him by a handful of fabric at the collar of his vest to drag him under one arm.

The green-haired man's cursing repeatedly under his breath as he slams a random selection of beli down on the table with the opposite hand, sending coins rolling off the edge and bouncing across the floor. He tightens his grip on his captain's struggling, protesting form and bolts for the door, hoping that it'll be taken into consideration that they PAID before leaving and they're not going to find themselves abruptly accosted by the local authorities or- god forbid- some actual goddamn MARINES before they get more than a few streets away.