"So, what are you getting Zoro for his birthday next week?"
Sanji paused for a moment as he stirred the bubbly contents of the evening meal, and glanced over at the curious face of their small doctor.
"What do you mean? I'm baking the bastard a cake, I guess. And he's lucky I'm even doing that."
"Oh. That's it?"
The cook covered the pot and then set the heat low to allow the stew to simmer. Then, against his better judgement, turned and awarded his full attention to the unfolding conversation.
"What do you mean 'that's it'?"
Chopper began to look uncertain under Sanji's steady gaze, but seemed to retain his determination even as his right hoof shuffled nervously against the floor.
"Well, its just that you bake everyone a cake for their birthday. I thought that you might do something a little, you know, special for Zoro."
Sanji's chest filled with icy dread as a bright blush stole across the doctor's furry face.
"Why?" he asked slowly, not really wanting to hear the answer.
There was a weighted silence as Chopper flushed impossible deeper.
"Uh, because now you're . . . you know . . ." the sentence died into a whispered squeak.
"'Lovers', Cook-san. I believe that was the word for which our doctor is searching."
Both Sanji and Chopper's heads whipped around at the soft teasing tone of Robin's intruding voice as the woman crossed the edge of the kitchen which she had entered unnoticed. Ignoring their surprised stares at her blunt pronouncement, she calmly picked up a ripe apple from a bowl resting on the counter and took a juicy bite. She made a small sound of enjoyment before casually taking her leave.
Sanji barely spared a second to worship the soft sensual music of Robin-chan's pleasure in a fruit that he himself had masterfully selected for her wonderful enjoyment, before turning shocked eyes to the doctor.
"Y-you know?!?!?"
Looking at Sanji no longer seemed possible as the now scarlet reindeer mutely shook his head.
Absolute horror flooded Sanji's entire body. Mustering his courage, he asked, "Does everyone. . . ?"
He was answered by a slow nod.
"Even L-luffy?"
An even slower nod.
"What the HELL?!?!?" he exploded as he threw his arms up and slapped his hands across his eyes, subsequently missing the way Chopper leaped back in terror at his shout. Sanji needed a cigarette. Hell, he needed about forty-eight. Dropping his hands from his face he looked at his now terrified nakama with a near-crazed expression.
"I mean, did you. . . see anything?"
For a moment there was absolute silence, before in a voice barely audible to the human ear, Chopper admitted, "And, you know, h-heard."
"WHAT?!?!?!?!" Sanji shouted causing Chopper to throw up both of his short arms and run screaming from the kitchen, effectively ending the dreadful conversation.
Alone at last, wrapped in silence only broken by the comforting sounds of dinner simmering behind him, the cook did his best to digest what had just happened. He wasn't sure how the rest of the crew had found out, but he was certain that he wasn't quite ready for everyone to learn about the thing he had going with the ugly seaweed-head. It was weird and new and weird. It had just sort of happened one night, and had continue to 'just happen' with increased frequency.
He didn't understand it himself, so he had no idea how he was going to explain it if any of his crew questioned him about it. Well, he knew how he was going to answer Luffy or Usopp – a quick hard kick in their nosy faces. But what if the girls asked him? It was already evident that dear Robin-chan was aware of the unfortunate state of affairs, and based on Chopper's hesitant admittance, he could assume that clever and lovely Nami-swan must know as well. Everything seemed so confusing as he turned back to the stove to finish dinner preparations. So many thoughts raced through his head, and annoyingly, the loudest kept wondering what the hell was he was supposed to get that bastard for his birthday, anyhow??
It was evident that the season was turning colder as Sanji watched his still labored breaths turn into white heated puffs against the deep night sky. He shivered a bit as the sweat cooling across the bare skin of his body began chilling him, and did his best to shrug off Zoro's content weight against his back so he could locate his clothing.
"Move it, Marimo. Its fucking cold up here," he complained crossly.
The swordsman merely answered with an annoyed grunt, and then instead of releasing the blonde, pulled him more tightly against his chest.
"Stop squirming, Bastard. Give me a few minutes, and I'll warm you up again. I'm not a goddamn machine, you know."
That earned him a sudden sharp jab in his side, loosening his grip enough for Sanji to escape. They both sat up and glared at one another from opposite ends of the small crow's nest.
"Fuck, Cook! What the hell was that for?"
"I told you I was fucking cold!" Sanji complained harshly as he began gathering up his scattered clothing.
"And I told you that I would warm you up if you just gave me a goddamn minute! What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"What's wrong with me? Everyone fucking knows about us, that's what's wrong with me!" Zoro's forehead furrowed in confusion which pissed off Sanji even more, "They know that we're fucki-"
"I know what you meant!" Zoro interrupted, "I just don't get what that has to do with you getting all bitchy."
This time, Sanji was the one who stared in confusion.
"What? You knew that they knew about us?"
Zoro shrugged.
"I kind of figured they might. Its not like we've been real quiet about it or nothin'." His mouth turned up in what could only be described as a smutty smile, "I mean, you're never quiet about it. Tonight, for example, you were making all kinds of noise when I was su–"
"Shut up!" Sanji cut him off; his anger only increased as he felt his face flushing, "Why didn't you say something?"
"Like what? Nothing I ever said before could get you to shut the fuck up when I wanted you to, so I figured I had even less chance when you were all sorts of distracted. Besides," the smile reappeared as he fixed the cook with a very direct look, "I kind of like it."
Sanji took turns gaping and sputtering and gaping some more, before he finally located his dignity (along with the rest of his clothes) and stood up. Zoro rolled his eyes as he watched the cook struggle into his pants, understanding little else about his lover's mood other than the fact that the before-mentioned warm-up session was getting less and less likely to take place. He shouted at other man in frustrated exasperation.
"Jesus Christ, Cook! Look at you! I fuck you a couple of times and you turn into a damn woman!"
Sanji's hands froze at the top button of his pants. Long silence stretched, before the cook wordlessly moved toward the descending ladder. He climbed over, and just before he moved down, spoke in a controlled voice, his eyes never lifting to meet the other man's curious watch.
"Just forget it. Forget all of it."
It must have been the heavy tone of finality in his voice that caused Zoro to call out a hesitant 'Hey!', but Sanji continued down, not looking back.
The two men hardly spoke to one another the entire rest of the week leading up to Zoro's birthday. Whether the new strain was noticed or not, no one on the crew commented directly to either Zoro or Sanji on the matter.
On the night of Zoro's birthday, after a very filling and always delicious meal, the entire crew of The Going Merry waited in anticipation for the coming birthday cake. And if any of them were concerned that any sort of stress that may or may not have been detected between the birthday boy and cook would have a negative effect on the pending cake, then they had very little to worry about.
A luscious-looking dark chocolate cake was placed in the center of the long wooden table, with many sets of admiring eyes following its progression. Smiling under the scrutiny of his creation, Sanji very carefully cut out two healthy size pieces of cake, and placed them before Nami and Robin so they could enjoy the first taste. It hardly mattered whose birthday it happened to be, the ladies of the crew always enjoyed the first cut of cake. It was one of Sanji's strictest rules, and dire consequences were dealt to anyone who dared voice an objection.
As one, both Nami and Robin lifted their forks, dipped into the dark cake, and lifted the confection to their lips. Small hearts fluttered in Sanji's eyes at the perfect vision they made as he waited with sweet anticipation nibbling at his soul for their pronouncement.
"Dark chocolate mint!" Nami purred, closing her eyes in enjoyment.
"You've out-done yourself this time, Cook-san. This may just be the best cake I have ever had the privilege to enjoy," Robin added with a smile.
The small hearts exploded into larger, much more glittery ones.
"Oh, Robin-chan! Oh, Nami-swaaaaaaaaan! You do me such beautiful honor by—"
"Sanji! We can't hold him back much longer!!!"
Irritated by the interruption to his raptures, the cook turned to the frantic voice of Chopper who, with the help of Usopp, was doing his best to hold back a heavily salivating Luffy.
"Fine," he said with a sigh. He quickly cut the rest of the cake and served the male portion of the crew, doing his best to avoid any and all eye contact with Zoro. The crew ate with rapture, sending their compliments many times over to the blonde cook. Only really concerned with the ladies' opinions, Sanji smiled his thanks nonetheless, while enjoying his own piece of cake. He had to admit that he had indeed truly out-done himself. By chance, he quickly glanced around the room, and his eyes froze, unwillingly, on the swordsman.
It appeared, that the only one that was not enjoying the cake, was the birthday boy himself. The man sat, his plate untouched, staring with a cross expression at his piece of cake.
Despite his good mood of moments before, Sanji felt his temper rising at the blatant display of disrespect. Shrugging off any stings that could be mistaken for hurt, he opened his mouth to ask the dumb ugly fucker exactly what his problem was, but then closed it again once he remembered that he was actually not speaking to the other man.
"Sanji-kun? Is everything all right?"
Putting a smile back on his face, he turned to Nami-swan to assure her that all things were right as long as she existed in the world, and then waved off her concerns about unwanted weight-gain when he offered her more cake, assuring her that there could never be too much Nami-swan to love. When she finally accepted the second piece, he stole a quick glance back to the swordsman only to find the other man missing; his plate empty.
The second hour of his watch had just started when Sanji lifted his head at the sound of someone climbing the ladder of the crow's nest. He was surprised when Zoro finished his climb, and then wordlessly dropped down to sit opposite the cook.
Sanji struggled between keeping the promise he made to himself to never speak to other man ever ever again, and the desire to shout at him to go the fuck away, when Zoro once again surprised him by reaching into his pocket and pulling out a dark sticky mess. With an angry glare at the cook, he tossed down the mess on the floor of the nest, where it landed with a disgusting 'splat!'. Intrigued, Sanji leaned forward to get a better look, and immediately recognized the remains of what once was a very appetizing piece of cake from earlier that evening. That was, of course, before it was carried around for hours in Zoro's pocket.
"That," the swordsman suddenly growled, a thick finger pointed accusingly at the sticky chocolate lump between them, "is my favorite cake!"
"Uh. . . " Sanji responded intelligently.
"You never made that cake for me before!"
"It was your birthday, Asshole!" Sanji defended with bewilderment.
"Don't give me that bullshit reason!" Zoro half-shouted, causing Sanji to jump just a bit, "Last year for Usopp's birthday, you made a coconut cake, despite the fact that he hates coconut! When he complained about it, you kicked him in the head and said it was made special to please Nami's delicate plate—
"Delicate palate" Sanji automatically corrected.
"It doesn't fucking matter! The point is that this year you made my favorite cake. For ME. I mean, how can you do shit like that and still feel all girlie and embarrassed that people know that we're fucking!" He jabbed a finger against Sanji's chest and snarled, "You don't make any fucking sense. You didn't make any sense before we started fucking, and somehow, you manage to make even less sense now. And you know what? You want to know the most fucked up thing of all? I don't CARE because you made my fucking favorite cake for me!"
Zoro pulled back, crossed his arms, and stared heatedly to the side in marked defiance. A long heavy silence settled between them.
"Fine." Sanji finally replied as he moved to undo the heavy clasps of his coat.
Clearly expecting any other response, Zoro looked at him and blinked. A lot.
"Uh. . . . 'fine' what?"
At that point, Sanji's shirt had been removed following the coat, and he shivered a bit as the chilly air hit his skin. He smiled slyly when he noticed the interest in which the still befuddled swordsman (permantly befuddled swordsman, in his opinion) regarded the hardening peaks on his chest.
"Fine – I made you your favorite cake. Fine – you're an asshole, still and forever. Fine – knowing that, I still made you your favorite cake."
He moved forward, shaking his head slightly at Zoro's idiotic expression while straddling his lap, "Now, shut up, and let me give you your birthday present," he demanded, swallowing any sort of immediate reply with a deep kiss.
When they finally parted, Zoro leaned his forehead against the blonde's, half-muttering, half-laughing, "No fucking sense at all," and then he attacked the tender skin beneath the cook's scruffy chin.
Sanji allowed the attention for a few minutes, before surprising Zoro with a sudden shove which sent the swordsman sprawling straight onto his back. With his legs still wrapped firmly around Zoro's thighs, Sanji was able to retain his straddle, as he grinned down at the other man. Without breaking eye contact, he scooted down slightly, slowly, until he was able to reach the fasten of Zoro's pants. When he was certain the bastard wasn't going to give him any immediate trouble, he slid the rest of the way down, tugged off Zoro's boots, before finally stripping the bottom half of his body bare.
The swordsman tried to sit up again, but with an annoyed snort and pointed glare, Sanji shoved him back to the floor. Then, he put a hand on each of Zoro's knees, pulling them slowly apart.
Zoro's eyes suddenly opened wide as some color left his face.
"Wait! What are you doing?!? We don't -- I mean, I haven't -- It's usually you!"
Sanji rolled his eyes.
"Well, its not my birthday today, is it, Idiot?"
"B-but. . ."
"I baked you your favorite cake, Asshole," he said lightly, grinning as he bit down on Zoro's bottom lip.
The other man gasped at the teasing pressure, "So?"
Sanji slid down a bit lower and lifted the bottom edge of the white shirt still worn, licking lightly around the naval, his right hand sliding deep between the parted thighs.
"It means I think I have an idea of what you might like. So shut the fuck up, spread your legs, and enjoy your goddamn birthday present."