The past month had been nothing but a chaotic whirlwind for Sanji and it had all started on Bazooka Island where Zoro had kissed him. Well, maybe it hadn't started directly then, but that was the center point of his confusion. After all, what does it mean when a marimo kisses someone and then runs off into battle without another word? What was he supposed to assume besides the fact that Zoro had finally lost what little brain he had left or there had been something hidden in a more emotional way than he'd ever thought Zoro was capable of. He'd never experienced a kiss like it up until that point. It had felt like the wind had been knocked out of him and it left his head buzzing with a strange fluttering sensation in his belly. And yet, it robbed his mind of any pleasurable thoughts such as Nami in her bikini and even the next day he found he wasn't enjoying the usual presence of the ladies.

Not that he still didn't adore both Nami and Robin. He absolutely still cared about them but there was something desperately wrong because while he loved them both very deeply, for 3 straight days there were absolutely no sexual appeal to anything. It was as though their love was completely platonic.

It scared the shit out of him.

Confusing him further was a nagging thought that with one kiss, Zoro had turned him completely gay. Because he'd had dreams. He remembered several of them. Sexually vivid dreams with men that competed with his lovely lady dreams. They were dreams he was embarrassed about enjoying. He convinced himself after each dream that it was just that, a dream. A far away fantasy, no, no- a far away nightmare that plagued him and made him question several things. Especially when he was dealing with Zoro.

Before the Bazooka kiss -it sounded stupid in Sanji's head but it was how he kept remembering it; because it had basically blown his world apart- he'd already had many startling thoughts. For example, he wondered if Zoro's hair really felt like a ball of moss. Passing thoughts of attraction flared up when Zoro trained shirtless. And sometimes, while they were fighting, he hated himself for thinking that maybe a kiss would shut the asshole up for at least 2 seconds of shock value and it may have been worth it. But Sanji firmly said no. He was not like that. He was a lover of ladies. Charmer of women. Knight in shining armor to any damsel whether in distress or not. Humble servant to their every need.

Luckily his body seemed to remember that women were lovely and beautiful things after three days of an absent void and he could fully appreciate how sexy they were. Smooth, soft, beautiful women. He was so relieved at least one thing that had worked out alright. Perhaps it had been healing and not a marimo's kiss that had turned his libido completely off for 3 days. After that, there were still several other problems. Such as, Zoro kissed him and then seemed to be avoiding him. Sanji himself felt tongue tied and couldn't even seem to remember how to fight with Zoro for several days. Though during his terrifying absence of lust, he also had not been dreaming of men in the women's place.

After those three days was a completely different matter because his libido seemed to remember then that Zoro was also attractive in some messed up, masculine sort of way. It seemed fresher and more brought to the surface than before. For three days he just worried about not being attracted to women, but he also had not been turned on by Zoro working out against doctor's orders. He'd mostly been consumed in those lustless days by the fear of what the Bazooka kiss had meant.

Sanji feared that Zoro was in love with him and the thought terrified him more than the platonic love scare with the girls. Not that Sanji could blame Zoro if he'd fallen for the suave gentleman that he was, but nothing could come of it because Zoro was a man. A crazy, self-centered, rude, and hopelessly lost marimo-man. And Sanji refused to believe that he could do anything with a man. He loved women, not men; end of story.

So Sanji resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to let Zoro down gently. After all, he was dealing with affairs of the heart and he could respect someone's heart. But… he couldn't imagine talking to Zoro about something so intimate so openly. So his plan was to let Zoro tell him how he felt and then tell him it could never be. They were from two different worlds and too different to over come what was between them. They could be nothing more than nakama. Any passing fantasy just wouldn't work out on a tiny ship… well, Sanji just felt embarrassed when he thought about it too much because it got more dramatic and it was a completely preposterous situation in the first place. But he had to do it. He couldn't allow Zoro to bottle those sorts of feelings up.

But… his mind betrayed him and he found himself wondering what it would be like to be loved by a marimo. He couldn't imagine receiving flowers or gifts. No romantic dinners that were suit and tie required. Above all, he could not imagine Zoro getting down on one knee to propose. No, but smaller questions came to mind; like, what would Zoro's arm feel like around his waist? Was Zoro any good at cuddling? Would Zoro be the type to give affectionate kisses while he was cooking? Would he be opposed to a bit of PDA or would he be more of a private lover? Those were the thoughts that often conflicted his argument that it would never work. Especially the most profound question, which was, would Zoro ever kiss him that way again?

And that was all before his lust had returned to him. Sanji was so nerve wracked it took him a week to breach the subject with a kick to Zoro's side.

He had not been expecting what Zoro told him. Any of it. Zoro was a cambion. He fed on lust in dreams. Sanji had been his main food source. He'd messed with Sanji's dreams. Zoro was not in love with him.

It was a lot to take in for one afternoon and he was not relieved when Zoro wasn't in love with him. In fact, it hurt more than he was expecting it to. Not only that, but Zoro seemed to only regard him as an energy source and the only reason he'd had sexual dreams with men was because Zoro had messed with his dreams.

Infuriating marimo-demon. Sanji hated him. He was so pissed off he couldn't see straight. It hurt so much more than he was expecting. It was so messed up because Zoro was supposed to be the one nursing a wounded heart; not him. He should have been overjoyed that it was not the case. It made everything simpler. They were simply nakama. And yet… thinking that just left a hollow pit in his chest. He felt… used more than anything, not to mention embarrassed that he'd ever thought Zoro could sustain those sort of human feelings for anyone. Zoro took energy from him in the night in his dreams and never consulted him about it. His dreams were private and he didn't like anyone mucking around with them.

Sanji shoved the situation away and ignored Zoro. He got back to more important things, such as Nami, Robin, and cooking. He expected Zoro to respected his wishes. The others were surprisingly accepting of Zoro's new found needs and consented to their energy being taken. He didn't understand why they were okay with it, but it meant Zoro had others to take from so it wasn't as though he wasn't getting it from somewhere. As long as Zoro stayed away from his head, everything would be fine.

Zoro didn't seem to break his promise in any obvious way. Sanji's dreams were mostly forgotten so he couldn't remember if they were homo-erotic, hetero-erotic, or about being trapped with nothing to eat. However, he did feel something was unusual. He felt antsy, restless, and more sensitive to the amount of skin that the girls were showing. Nami's smooth creamy perfection. Robin's olive complexion that tanned so nicely while reading. But also Zoro when he was shirtless and sweaty with his sun kissed muscles… all of this sent waves of heat to his groin and he found a level of frustration he wasn't used to. Yes, he took care of it solitary and as discreetly as he could on the tiny ship but it didn't cure the craving to touch and be touched. He would have loved to court both women but they did not return those types of affections for him, so he respected their choices; as sad as it made him.

Zoro was…

No, Sanji told himself firmly. Zoro was not an option. He hoped they found a new island soon. Hopefully one that was human inhabited.

A mere 2 weeks of frustration later, Sanji had one of the most vivid dreams that he'd ever experienced. Not to mention the most passionate. In the dream was a beach with crystal blue waters, white sand coast line, and a sun set lit sky that was colored from cool crisp indigo to warm orange at the horizon. He laid on his belly in the sand, warm and comfortable as a lover was draped over his back. His neck was slowly covered with affectionate kisses that made Sanji smile and his fingers were tangled with a thick and powerful hand. He knew instinctively in the dream that the lover was masculine by the solid body that moved against his and a low, overpowering voice that made his skin tingle. Sanji just moved with it; one didn't question the dream logic. He just knew it felt good, not just physically but emotionally as well. Loving and then making love on the sand. Sanji swore he could feel it inside him and he would have been mortified if anyone but his lover heard him moaning like that. Moaning without abandon, "Zoro!"

Sanji woke up with a sharp intake of breath to the creaking of the ship. His heart was hammering in his ribs and his body was vibrating from the images in his head. He'd dreamed and remembered scenes with men before, but it had never been like that. It had never been Zoro before. Sanji pulled himself out of his hammock through the quickly dissipating haze of sleep. Clearing it faster was anger that consumed him. It had to be Zoro screwing with him. It had been Zoro every other time, hadn't it? He ignored any he'd ever had on the Baratie in that count, just because he was so pumped up and he had no other way to vent properly. If it was Zoro, then not only did he break his promise, but he was also a cruel, evil individual who had no respect for his emotions. He kicked the swordsman out of his hammock and was ready to make good on his threat to kick his head in.

But then they had their long conversation in the galley about energy and carrots. He learned how much Zoro needed the sexual energy and Sanji gave into the damn temptation for a kiss. A kiss that again took his breath away and replaced the roaring fire with butterflies in his stomach and a want for both more and mellow solitude. It was such an odd feeling. A paradox of wanting more but not having the drive to continue.

Zoro left him, saying that he'd taken all of his lust and he couldn't make more for hours. But then why did he really want Zoro to continue touching and kissing him? Hold their bodies together. He still wanted to know what it was like to have Zoro's arm around him. Not for sex but…

Love. Affection. Physical attention.

Sanji was in the galley for several hours with his horrifying realization and his skin prickled with goose bumps. Zoro had told him only two weeks ago that he did not love him. Sanji sat there for a long moment, sort of numb to the facts that clicked neatly into place. It wasn't until he thought back to the dream did he start to mourn it and tears stung his eyes. Not really for the loss of it but a bitter acceptance that it would never happen.