Ch.1

Zoro wasn't sure how things had turned out the way they had...

He and Sanji had been dating for almost two years now and living together for just over a month and in all that time there was barely a single example of Zoro being 'romantic'; It was perfectly understood by Sanji, if occasionally mourned, that the swordsman's way of expressing his feelings was almost the complete opposite to the way he did himself, in that Zoro didn't.
Their relationship worked simply because of how well and how long they had known each other. They had fought, both verbally and physically, for a long time before they had gotten together (and still do today) meaning that by now they could read affection in each other's eyes as easily as they could read irritation and as such, in those two years, Zoro had never felt the need to change his stubborn, stoic ways.

So why now? Why, when the cook had announced that he would be delaying his own birthday due to 'Patty and Carne's inability to manage a disposable barbecue, let alone a restaurant', had Zoro decided that Sanji deserved to have something nice for his birthday? Why had Zoro decided on not just something nice, something special? and why, when Robin had suggested he personally bake Sanji a birthday cake had he figured that to be the perfect solution?
After all what else was he supposed to do for a lover who's job, passion and, in fact, the majority of his life revolved around cooking, especially when said lover had just recently moved into and customised his own dream kitchen, leaving Zoro with nothing to add?

././.

So the day had come around, the birthday boy had left for the lunch rush at work (this slight lay in being the most he would allow himself, even today) and Zoro had began his hunt for a recipe...and then he'd hunted some more, and, after pulling half a dozen of Sanji's cookbooks from the bookshelf that the blonde had claimed as his own, he had found himself cursing the cook's god-awful handwriting, and then the better half of an hour trying to understand the recipe itself- It hadn't dawned on him until that moment that baking would require at least a little knowledge, if not skill, and he would never admit the fact that he had had to actually consider whether '1 cup of flour' should be measured in a coffee mug or pint glass before stumbling upon an appropriate measure.

Once Zoro had worked out the difference between self-raising and plain flour, he'd quickly deemed the difference between 'whisking' and 'folding' to be unimportant and the following process had gone pretty smoothly. He even left himself enough time to change out of his flour and egg laden clothes. The swordsman had actually been feeling pretty good about the whole thing, up until the moment he had removed the sponge from the oven to find it mysteriously dipped in the middle; He had figured that it must not have been done baking yet and placed it back on the middle shelf. Five minutes later and the cake was definitely 'golden brown' yet still remarkably deflated and 10 minutes later, when it was promptly decided that the slightly charred crater was probably inedible, his good feeling had promptly vanished.

The second try had gone pretty much the same way, though he had given up before the cake had burned; fully aware of Sanji's view on wasted food and knowing that two burnt sponges would probably be a little unfair on his choice of waste disposal- namely his friend, Luffy, and by the time the third attempt had wielded the same result the swordsman was both too stubborn and too far into the day to ask for help. Instead he decided that his last two sorry attempts (layered and flipped to hide the dips of course) would be just the same as a normal cake once covered in buttercream. It was the cook's recipe after all so he was sure it would taste fine whether it looked good or not and surprisingly, after a heavy, clumsy coating of oversweet fluff the cake had actually turned out at least a little respectable.

././.

With just two hours left of possibly the longest day the swordsman had had in a very long time, Zoro had soaked the baking equipment before dropping the evidence of the day's first disaster down the road to Luffy, who had accepted it with great gusto and not too much inspection. On the way back he stopped to purchase a cake box and some thick, crimson ribbon as a finishing touch, knowing the cook would appreciate the aesthetics.

Upon his return Zoro efficiently cleaned and removed the evidence of his activities, removing as much of the icing sugar/crumb mess as he could from the previously pristine granite worktops- even giving the powdery floor a good wipe- before proudly checking over his handiwork. Glancing back at the clock and the ever shortening time he had left to set up his surprise, Zoro quickly tried to slide the cake from its home on the cooling rack and into the open gift box.
Now, Zoro was normally a strong believer in fate but maybe he had tried too hard with this, honestly pretty girly, final touch and the whole world had just decided to laugh at him for it, because as he watched half the cake fall haphazardly onto the counter followed a second later by the remaining sponge, he was absolutely certain that laughing was what the world was doing... This was exactly why he didn't do romance.

After enough of his brain cells had caught up with the situation, Zoro scooped the mess up into the box, shoved the whole thing into the bottom of the fridge- out of sight from the already usually smug cook- and stared at the ribbon on the counter in defeat before doing the only thing that those few remaining brain cells could think of and stripping.