As soon as the door boomed shut, Zoro's vision began to melt into puddles of color and his ears rang with an eerie, high-pitched tone as he and Sanji were plunged into suffocating darkness.
His eye fluttered open as the pleasant warmth of the sun fell softly on his face and the comfortable aura of a familiar person radiated from his fingers.
They had been transported on top of a high hill on some sort of island. A hot wind that smelled like the sea rushed past them, tousling their hair and whipping through their clothes. Wheat-colored grasses spread out in gently rolling waves before them, tassels of seeds at their tops nodding in the breeze. A large harbor and a town on the opposite side of the island were visible in the distance.
Zoro tested the binds of their red cord, but as much as he twisted his hands, he couldn't wriggle out of their interlaced grip.
"Shit. Just great," the cook grumbled as he observed that the thread wrapped multiple times around both of their hands and fingers as well, rendering each set about as useful as a club.
"What the hell are we supposed to do now?" Zoro asked crossly as he scanned their environment, his head on a swivel.
"Rikka-chan said to figure a way out of this," Sanji shrugged, looking uneasy. A single drop of sweat crawled down his forehead. "Uh, marimo?"
"Yeah?" Zoro found Sanji's eye, but the cook was refusing to meet his gaze.
"I could really use a cigarette right now," he hesitantly admitted.
"Oh this is rich. You actually want my help with something. Just deal with it," Zoro told him, frowning as he watched Sanji's face fall with the heaviness of disappointment.
"Bastard. And they wonder why we don't get along," the cook said bitterly.
"Which pocket?" Zoro suddenly demanded. The cook's blue eye met his.
"Right," Sanji said hesitantly.
The swordsman shoved their bound hands into the pocket, pincering the pack between his index and middle fingers and fishing it out, shaking it until one jutted forward. He led their hands to Sanji's face, who took the cigarette in his mouth. The cook's cheeks began to flush a deep red.
Zoro's heart inexplicably sped up.
The swordsman regained his concentration and dropped their hands back down to scoop up his lighter.
"Spark it," the green-haired man directed, working to hold it upright in his thumbless grip.
Sanji wiggled his forefinger out and turned the wheel while Zoro held it. A flame soon flickered between them, and the cook bent down and lit it, closing his eyes in relief as he took in a deep breath of soothing nicotine.
"Just when I think there's no hope for you, you go and do something halfway decent," Sanji smirked.
"I'm not planning on making it a habit, cook," Zoro said, glaring at him.
"Whatever. I'd like to explore that town, but not like this. We need to get out of these." Sanji grimaced at the layers of red imprisoning their arms.
"Any ideas?" Zoro asked.
"One. You aren't going to like it," the cook sighed, blowing a stream of smoke downwards.
"Try me."
"This is a love trial. I'm pretty sure that if we kissed or something the thread would come off," Sanji said seriously, a frown deepening the lines around his mouth.
"No way! We should try something else first," Zoro blurted out.
"Look, kissing a stupid piece of moss is the last thing I want to do, but if it works then we won't have to hold hands anymore," Sanji said, growing more irritated.
Zoro ground his teeth together, then shook his head. "Let's make that a last resort kind of thing," he told him, his eye falling on the cook's soft-looking lips.
They were able to awkwardly walk down the incline with their arms stretched and crossed in uncomfortable positions in front of them. The swordsman watched slow moving, fluffy clouds cast roving shadows on the valley below and he wondered how everything could feel so real.
About a quarter of the way down the hill, Sanji's body suddenly tensed as they both sensed something. He twisted back to look past Zoro's shoulder.
"The game just changed, marimo!" the cook yelled, kicking the swordsman's legs out from under him. They both fell heavily to the ground just as a searing white beam streaked where they had just been standing.
Zoro tried to ignore his position on top of the cook as he peeked through the grass to find a line of black and white Pacifistas cresting the ridge. A complement of Navy soldiers filled in the ranks between the hulking cyborgs.
The swordsman grinned fiercely, his eye gleaming with a thirst for battle.
"Wipe that damn look off your face. You can't even hold a sword like this!" Sanji griped from underneath him.
"Get one into my mouth," Zoro simply said.
"And have my head be right in front of the business end? No thanks. As much as I hate this, we should try my plan before they get right on top of us," Sanji pressed. The tip of the cook's tongue peeked out as he nervously licked his lips.
Zoro's predatory eye was now fully focused on his nakama, and a spark of intense need snapped through his body, traveling straight down to where his crotch had ended up in the 'v' of the cook's legs.
The swordsman scrambled off of him.
"No, we definitely shouldn't do that," Zoro said quickly. "Get one of my swords out. I won't cut your head off if you duck."
"I'm almost 100% sure this will work! Then you can have all the fun you want with these guys!" Sanji insisted, his curly eyebrows knitting together.
Zoro roughly pulled the cook to his feet. "Just run, idiot!"
The Pacifistas had nearly caught up, raining down blasts of energy that exploded chunks of earth that sprayed on either side of them. The pirates gracelessly shuffled as they ran tethered together, making for a dense forest that rose to the west of the town in the distance.
"Help me get a damn sword out, fucking cook! I helped you with your stupid cigarette!" the swordsman yelled heatedly across to Sanji.
"If you're going to bitch that much, then stop and let me take care of them! I don't need my hands to fight!" he shouted back.
"Neither do I! Help me get my sword and we can both do it!" Zoro argued, getting into the cook's face.
The swordsman grunted as a shot exploded right beneath their feet, flipping them over and causing them to violently skid down the hill in a cloud of dirt and debris. He rolled over as the dust settled and started rubbing his face on his shoulder when he felt Sanji's hand squeeze his tightly. He looked over and saw the cook kneeling beside him, a long gash gushing bright red through a ragged tear in his black pants.
"Fuck," the cook cursed, trembling as he rose to his feet, then stumbled, issuing a string of colorful curses.
The Pacifistas would have them surrounded in a few moments.
"Get up!" Zoro pulled on Sanji's arm.
"I'm trying, shitty moss-for-brains!" Sanji barked at him, limping to his feet.
"Run!" Zoro ordered, but the cook was obviously struggling as he lamely hobbled. Before Sanji could complain, the swordsman grabbed his thighs with their bound hands and wrapped the blond's thin legs around his waist, carrying him as best he could. As he sprinted away, Zoro felt a worrying stream of Sanji's blood soaking warmly through his pants.
"What the hell are you doing?!" the cook demanded as he balanced Zoro's awkward grip by digging his chin into his shoulder, watching the oncoming onslaught from behind. Before the swordsman could answer, Sanji screamed at him.
"Go left, marimo. Left! That's your right, dumbass!" the cook growled angrily into his ear as they narrowly dodged another Pacifista beam, Zoro scrambling to maintain his balance.
"Marimo, I feel like an idiot running around like this when we can break one of these things in a single hit if we were untied." The cook took a deep breath, adjusting his grip on Zoro's fingers. "I fucking hate asking for this sort of thing again, but..."
The swordsman's wide eye shot over to Sanji, whose embarrassment was evident in the pink blush gracing his cheekbones, making him look more vulnerable than he actually was. Zoro decided to chalk it up to the blood loss and not the fact that the cook was, in his own way, begging the swordsman to kiss him. He ran at full speed for a while longer until the attacks became less frequent.
"How far away are they?" he asked.
"About like when they appeared. We have a good lead," Sanji told him.
Zoro stopped running and unwound the cook's legs from around his waist. Sanji sank to the ground, dragging the swordsman down next to him by their tethered arms.
"This is a stupid idea, cook. I'd rather see how long I can last with those guys," the swordsman's voice was hard, but he was already casting furtive glances at the cook's mouth. At this close proximity, Sanji's familiar scent of breaking ocean waves came rushing to him.
"I can't fight, dumbass, and this is probably the only way to end the trial. The faster we get this over with, the faster we move to the next one and go home. It's just a means to an end, marimo, that's all," Sanji explained, clinging to cold logic as if it could blanket him from irrational emotions.
"Fine, but just a quick one. In and out, and we never talk about this again, ok?" Zoro said anxiously, leaning forward.
"Fine by me. The quicker, the better. This is going to be so gross," Sanji griped, closing his eye tightly.
"I don't want to kiss your ashtray of a mouth either, shit cook!" the swordsman snapped back, pissed off at the strange thoughts looming in the back of his mind.
He wondered what Sanji might actually taste like.
"Oi! My mouth isn't an ashtray! Just fucking do it already!" the agitated cook yelled, squeezing his eye shut.
Zoro sighed bitterly, but froze as he peered into his face. Heat began building below his waist.
Sanji was ready for the kiss. His cheeks were flushed. His lips were softly parted, waiting. His unhidden blue eye was closed tightly, his spiral eyebrows knitted together.
He had never seen the cook with such an expression before, and it made him feel off balance, as if he were standing at the edge of a cliff and looking down at the drop below.
It wouldn't take a very big push to send him falling.
Zoro leaned forward and captured Sanji's lips, and their mouths fit together like two pieces to a whole.
A curious shiver swept like wildfire through the swordsman's body. He had gone in for a quick peck, but his lips began to move with a will of their own. He caressed Sanji's mouth with slow, deliberate brushes, and to his surprise, the cook instantly reciprocated, the years of built up sexual tension between them coursing like a drug through their veins.
Neither of them noticed the bindings of their thread of fate loosen and spread out, looping like petals of scarlet flower blossoms before shrinking again into the single line that bridged between them.
Sanji fisted a handful of the swordsman's green robe and panted through the intense, fluid kisses, hungrily devouring every sweep of the other man's mouth. The swordsman rocked forward and coaxed the cook's lips apart with a soft lick, slipping his tongue inside.
The cook hummed faintly, his unsure fingertips beginning to graze Zoro's bare chest. The swordsman found his newly freed hands on the cook's waist, running his fingers over his lean, toned core and down his compact hips.
Sanji recoiled, suddenly shoving Zoro away and leaping up.
The swordsman opened his eye to find that they were now in an empty stone room lit only by candlelight, the scent of incense filtering through the cracks around the heavy door. The cook turned his back to Zoro and lit a cigarette, dropping a hand to check on the injury that didn't exist anymore as he heaved in ragged breaths.
Zoro's chest rose and fell excitedly as he dragged a hand down his face, doing his best to forget the way the cook's hands were running over him just a few moments before. He roughly wiped his mouth on the back of his arm, trying to get rid of sensation of the kiss still buzzing on his lips.
"Where the hell did that come from, Zoro?" Sanji asked in hushed tones, refusing to turn around.
Heat spread across Zoro's face as he looked down at the vibrant, healthy cord that connected them and wondered himself.
The swordsman carefully considered his words. "We did what we had to do, and just because it wasn't horrible doesn't mean it goes any deeper than that, cook. Nothing's changed," the green-haired man lied.
"Just a means to an end," Sanji said, nodding to himself. "Now forget this ever happened, marimo."
The door shrieked open and Rikka stuck her head in. "Hey! You passed. Congratulations!"
"Rikka-chan!" Sanji whipped to her side, fawning over her as she beckoned for them to exit the room.
Zoro glared at Rikka's back as the cook flirted with her. She might not say anything about it, but the swordsman knew she knew exactly what happened during the trial, and it made his stomach churn.
She led them outside to the steps of the temple, then turned on her heel, presenting them with two envelopes.
"You guys need a little break, I think," she said, depositing them into their hands.
"Take this money, get something to eat, and have a little fun for a bit, together or apart, whatever you'd like. Meet back here in two hours. Don't worry, time runs much faster in the boss's dream than in the real world," she assured them.
"Thank you, Rikka-chan! You're so generous! Want to get lunch with me? I can cook you something if you have a kitchen!" Sanji flitted around her, hearts bubbling around him.
Zoro peeled the envelope's flap back and found a very comfortable amount of Beli in it. He instantly made a plan to find a whole lake of sake to drink. Throwing an elbow over his trio of swords, he descended the steps of the temple, passing by the amorous cook as if he were invisible.
The blond girl pushed Sanji aside. "Zoro-kun! Be sure to come back in time or the next trial will automatically start!" she called.
Zoro waved back at her without turning around.
"If you get lost and cause Rikka-chan trouble, and I will kick your ass, marimo!" Sanji shouted at him.
Zoro waved back a slightly different gesture at him, continuing straight ahead without looking back.