It had only been a day, and already Sanji's fixation on Zoro was lessening but not extinct. Except withdrawal was making Sanji want to tear his eyeballs out. He was cursing himself every minute for being such an idiot. He had given up trying to make sense of it. This was the exact same way he had felt when he had originally lost them. There was this consuming need for something to fill the pain of withdrawal. It was fucking irritating that he had purposely placed himself in that position. Was his subconscious trying to tell him something by making him completely vulnerable? Or was Sanji going insane?

He honestly hoped it was the latter. Sanji didn't want to be vulnerable.

It was late at night. The crew had gone to bed. Sanji had tried to do that, too, it seemed like he was developing chronic insomnia. So now he was lying on his back on the table in the galley. The lights were out, and the table was hard and uncomfortable, but if Sanji were able to fall asleep anywhere it would be in here. Even through the over-powering need for nicotine, Sanji was still thinking about Zoro. Those thoughts were muted now, but everything that had conspired between him and Zoro was still replaying in his mind. Sanji didn't know what that meant exactly; he never spent this much worrying about anything under normal circumstances when he could assuage emotions. And when he was going through withdrawal nothing should take precedence over a need for nicotine.

Somebody was walking on the deck just outside the galley door. Sanji could hear the deep clunk of their boots. Nobody else walked like that. The footsteps stopped and were replaced by a soft shifting noise and then a light plunk. Zoro was just on the other side of the wall, and Sanji wanted to avoid drawing attention to himself. Sanji didn't want Zoro to walk into the galley and see him. If Zoro only knew the torment Sanji was in every time he saw the swordsman and how badly it was affecting him. Sanji waited to hear the tell-tale snore before he decided he should sneak past Zoro and to his actual bed. He just hoped that he could fall asleep when he got there.

He crept out of the galley, sneaking a glance back at the sleeping swordsman. Zoro looked so peaceful, like nothing could disturb him at this moment. Sanji wished he could sleep like that. But instead he couldn't stop thinking about this man, and he couldn't stop thinking about nicotine. Both obsessions were just underneath his skin, prickling at prodding. Sanji had an urge to kick the swordsman. Zoro should be the one in emotional turmoil, not Sanji. But here they were: Zoro in peace and Sanji in hell. It isn't fair, Sanji thought. Zoro needed to know that.

He lashed out viciously, striking Zoro in the head with his foot. As much as he didn't want another confrontation, Sanji wanted to scream at the swordsman. "Wake up, you shithead." Sanji kicked him again. Why he could not say, but he just wanted Zoro to wake up so Sanji could kick and hit him again and again. The snoring stopped, but Zoro still made no sign that he was awake.

Sanji kicked out again. "Stupid, mother-fucking Zoro." Zoro's hand shot out and tightened on Sanji's ankle. His eyes were still closed, but he pulled on the leg. Sanji fell with a thud.

"What do you want, Sanji?" His voice was broken, and when Zoro opened his eyes Sanji wanted to cry. Such a deep absence of emotion was in those eyes, and that was worse than the ache Sanji had seen earlier. To realize that Zoro had shut out the world and his pain tore Sanji even further apart. There was something utterly decimating about numbness. He wanted to apologize again, but he didn't know how. He just wanted to vent out his own feelings.

"I want you to stop it."

"It?" Zoro said. A flicker of emotions crossed his face. Sanji didn't know what they meant.

"This." Sanji gesticulated at nothing. He was merely waving his arms about to make a point. "This bullshit that you're putting me through."

"I'm putting you through bullshit?" Zoro said. He laughed. It was bitter, dry, and full of menace.

"Yes. Yes, you are." Sanji stood up, trying to appear calm, but instead was quivering with the rage he had built up over a week. He brushed the dirt off his pants in an attempt to avoid looking at Zoro for if he did, he might not be able to hold up his charade. "You're being a fucking insensitive prick."

"I'm the prick?" Zoro was standing now, too.

"Yeah, shit-swordsman," Sanji said. He now looked up into Zoro's hardened, numb eyes. "You're being a bastard about this whole shitty situation. You go around as calm and carefree as any other fucker while I'm stuck screaming and making a mess. And it's not fair."

"I'm not carefree," Zoro whispered, a trace of the pain breaking through into his voice. Sanji heard but ignored it. Zoro still seemed so numb. It was pissing Sanji off. He didn't want Zoro to be numb. Zoro should be crying and pouting like a normal human would.

"Then how come you're able to sit here and sleep like a fucking baby? Is that your stupid swordsman's training and self-control?" Zoro didn't answer. "I haven't had a good night's sleep in over a week, because I can't find a way stop this bullshit. But you, Zoro, haven't even tried to stop it. You haven't made any effort to show that you're hurting too, which makes me feel like an idiot for worrying and whining over you. You've only made this shit worse by being a fucking pussy."

"Well aren't you the bitchy one?" Zoro growled. "You're the bastard here, Sanji. This is the second time you've approached me only to pick a fight. I tried to fix it, remember? I apologized for putting you in this situation, but you ignored that, and just tried to fuck me over. You don't even care about what's going on with anyone else. You're being such a selfish bastard."

"And what about you? You push your feelings onto people who don't want to hear them. Then you expect something from them," Sanji said. He had stopped thinking about what he said a while ago. Now it was just the unconscious, unexpressed feelings that Sanji was saying. He was just so angry and tired that he had stopped caring about being an ass. His momentum was venting and yelling, and there was no way to stop it. "I never asked for you to love me. And I certainly didn't want to hear about it."

Zoro's features darkened, and his hand drifted down to the swords at his side. "I thought I could trust you. I thought that afterwards-"

"You were a distraction. Withdrawal makes you do crazy shit. I don't even think about that anymore," Sanji lied. A blatant lie, because it was all he'd been able to think about. Sanji was finally starting to accept it, but saying it out loud would make it true. And it couldn't be true.

"If that's the case then why you dream about it?" Sanji opened his mouth to ask how he knew, but Zoro must have read his mind. "You talk in your sleep."

"Have you watched me more than just that one time?" Sanji said. In the pit of his stomach, butterflies were flying. He felt sick. He sneered. "Do you like what you see? Do you watch me a lot?"

"I-" Zoro's voice broke. He swallowed back whatever overwhelming emotion he was feeling. "Yeah. I've been watching you off and on for awhile now."

"Even before all this shit happened?" Zoro nodded. Sanji couldn't control what he was saying. He was so scared and disgusted. Zoro was acting like he actually was in love with Sanji. That was wrong and shouldn't be true. There was no way a man could really love another man. "Jesus, you really are a fucking fag-"

"Don't say it." In the blink of an eye, Zoro had drawn his sword and was pressing it against Sanji's neck. Sanji instinctively brought his leg up so that his foot was pressed into Zoro's chest. Zoro's hand was shaking. Sanji worried that the swordsman's hand might slip even a little and accidentally nick his jugular. "I know what I am, okay? I understand that I'm a fucking f-faggot. But hearing it from your lips makes it sound so much worse than it actually is. If you say it again, I might lose it and everything else I've been working for."

Sanji wasn't quite sure if that meant Zoro was considering suicide. He hoped and prayed that he wasn't, because Sanji didn't know how he could handle that. Knowing that he was the cause of that. But it was so uncharacteristic of Zoro that he doubted Zoro would ever kill himself. He would either die in the struggle to reach his goal or just of old age. That was how it should be. Sanji was being such an asshole, and he knew it. But being an asshole was better than being a coward. Right?

"I'm sorry," Sanji whispered. His heart was beating his chest as though it had been waiting for this moment for years. Sanji's lungs tightened and he didn't know what else to say. Zoro pulled the sword away, slowly, and then sheathed it. Sanji couldn't bring himself to lower his foot, though. He both wanted to touch Zoro and make sure Zoro couldn't touch him. His leg was a barrier and a connection. And this need for both of those things was driving him crazy.

God, Sanji wanted a cigarette right now more than anything.

"You should be," Zoro said. He stepped back, causing Sanji to lower his leg. Zoro crossed his arms and stared at Sanji. There was a moment of silence. Say something, goddammit, Sanji told himself, so this isn't so fucking awkward. Zoro beat him to breaking the silence. "Don't expect forgiveness. Nothing you say is going to make this better."

"I know. I just wish we could forget this ever happened."

Zoro laughed, cynicism oozing. "I thought that was your plan. Didn't you tell me to pretend like none of it ever happened? Wasn't that your plan to deal with this? What happened, Sanji? I'm trying to move on. I understood what you said and that you meant it. I had to fucking accept the fact that there was no chance at all for anything. Ever again. I'm trying to move on. But every time I see you, you're always doing something stupid. I don't know why, but nothing you do makes sense. It doesn't match what you said you wanted. If you want to forget, forget."

"It's not that easy."

"Easy? You think it's easy for me?" Zoro said. "Trust me when I say that I'm in a hell of a lot more pain than you are and I'm trying to get through it. You've given up."

"No, I haven't. I'm just not sure what to do."

"Not sure what to do? Jesus, what do you need to do?" Even in the dark, Sanji could see how red Zoro's face was getting. "Why are you here? What do you even want?"

Sanji knew that he knew the answer; that it was lingering in the back of his mind, except he couldn't remember what it was. It was on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't know how to say it. Say whatever it was. His whole being was shaking under the effort of not knowing what to say. The barriers around his mind seemed to be crumbling away, revealing whatever it was that had been trapped there. But he couldn't have said what was there. "I don't know."

"You don't know. You. Don't. Know." Sanji nodded. "Do you want to forget? Do you want your fucking cigarettes to feed your addiction? I bet you want Nami. Do you want her begging for you to touch her, for you to fawn over her? Or Robin? Or both of them? Is that what you want?"

Sanji's mouth was dry. "Sanji, do you want to fight me? Every time we meet, do you want to hit and kick as though we aren't nakama, but mere shipmates? Do you want me to hate you? Or you hate me? Do you even want anything, or are you such a fucking coward that you aren't going to even admit to wanting anything for fear that some shit will happen again that you can't deal with?"

He had always known Zoro was fast, but never like this. Because one moment he had been several feet away from him, and the next he was pinned against the wall. Zoro's palm was against Sanji's chest right at the base of the sternum, pressing so hard that Sanji's lungs couldn't expand. He couldn't breathe properly at a time when he really needed oxygen. Zoro had leaned in- Sanji had expected a kiss- but instead Zoro went to the side so that his lips were touching Sanji's ear and the breath was hot on his neck. Sanji's heart sped up, and his lungs struggled for air. Zoro pressed in even harder.

"Or is this what you want, Sanji?" Zoro whispered. His lips were soft and light as they moved. Such a sharp contrast to the pain. "Is this why you threw away all your cigarettes, so that you would have an excuse to use me as a distraction? Do you want a distraction? I can give you one of those. I'll touch, lick, bite, and fuck you senseless if that's all you want."

Lack of oxygen was making Sanji lightheaded. He couldn't think or speak. He just shook his head. "So you don't want a distraction. Do you want me? The sex? Didn't you say it was amazing? If that's all I'm good for, why can't you stop thinking about me?"

Sanji was just losing consciousness when the pressure on his chest lightened and then disappeared all together. There was a sudden rush of air into his lungs. "You say it's unfair that I'm able to be calm while you go completely crazy. I'm not calm, Sanji. But I'm doing something about it. I'm trying while you're the one being a pussy. You don't give a damn about anyone other than yourself. You protect your interests as you refuse to admit the truth. You're scared about this. You're so terrified that somebody might find out, and then you'll be ruined. You think that Luffy and this crew will get rid of you if they find out you fucked a man. Sanji, look around at us. Luffy is the most open and accepting person in the world. You know that."

"And you say you want to forget. Forget? You should accept that it happened, deal with it, and then you can move on. Except you're trying so hard to forget that it's tearing you apart. You aren't the type of person to just forget. You aren't some fucking coward." Zoro took a breath. He was barely speaking above a whisper, but those soft sounds were full of malice and criticism. "I know you feel bad about what you said. And you should. But I don't know why, even after you apologized, it's eating you up as it is. But it is, and I, who knows you better than anyone, can see that you're in pain. Why are you refusing to admit that? Why hide from it?"

Zoro had slowed his speech. "This isn't the man I fell in love with. You're pathetic."

There were tears in his eyes as he walked away. He moved down the steps and across the deck. Sanji watched him, breathing heavily, until the swordsman was out of sight. Then he turned, hands shaking fervently. Sanji stepped inside the galley. He was in shock. Zoro's words were echoing in his mind. Repeating over and over until they stopped making sense and were just a string of sounds.

He put his hand to his head. This was too much to take in, and Sanji was still having trouble understanding it all. He breathed in slowly. His chest still hurt, and Sanji hoped that Zoro hadn't broken anything. Even if he deserved it.

He shuffled over to the cupboard to pull out a glass. But when he went to fill it up something was already in the sink. There was a note written in flowery, flowing handwriting that Sanji recognized as Robin's.

You dropped these.

Sanji looked under the note to see what she was referring to. It was a pack of cigarettes. Sanji leapt for them hungrily. In a flash he had lit one and was puffing on the end of it. He looked at the note again.

P.S.

I hope you really want this.

"I do," he whispered. It was an instantaneous reaction brought about by the need to defend himself. He knew that he didn't want this- whatever the fuck this was. Nobody would want this hell Sanji was in. But he was putting himself through it anyway. Sanji just didn't want to admit that he wasn't doing what he wanted. Couldn't let himself admit to it. That would mean he was doing the wrong thing, and the only wrong thing he could admit to so far was that he called Zoro a faggot.

Sanji gathered the note, pack of cigarettes, and his glass of water as he slumped to the floor. He leaned back against the cabinet, the handle digging uncomfortably into his neck. He could have moved to avoid the dull pain, but it was a pleasant distraction from the ache in his chest. It was starting to hurt more. Whether that was from Zoro or his own foolish torment, he could not say.

He brought the note up so he could read it again. What the hell was Robin talking about? Why the hell wouldn't he be doing what he wanted? Sanji wasn't a fucking masochist like Zoro, not one to put himself through unnecessary pain just because there was a slim chance that he might gain something at the end of it. His current actions were the only method he could see to dealing with this fucked up situation he'd been cursed with. And he couldn't see what there was to gain from it.

"I hope you really want this," Sanji read aloud. This, he thought, is nothing. There is no this. This doesn't exist, because this isn't something that could actually happen. A mistake, a series of mistakes between me and Zoro. "Dumbass Zoro. Fucking marimo bastard."

Whatever shit he was going through was Zoro's fault. Sanji could have dealt with having sex with Zoro. That was easy to blame on withdrawal and the closeness of another person. Both men were at fault for that incident. It could have passed easily, leaving the two men slightly awkward but easily dealt with. They could have let it slide after quick apologies and the promise to forget. Except Zoro had to go and confess a secreted love, creating a much more difficult problem. And leaving Sanji totally unprepared for how to deal with it. And unable to forget.

Stupid swordsman, Sanji thought. He had pushed his problems on Sanji without any thinking about what they would do to him. Zoro had assumed he was gay and his flirtatious behaviour had all been a charade to hide his sexuality from everyone. That had been a big mistake, because there was no way in hell Sanji was gay. He loved women, lived for their pleasure. Except I went and fucked a man. How did that work into his self-perception?

"It doesn't mean I'm gay. Not some fucking faggot like him." There was something in the back of his mind telling him he was wrong. It was pointing out all the reasons why Zoro would think that. His immaculate appearance, incredible sense of style, his obsession with cleanliness, a habit of collecting different aprons. There were all these subtle details that could easily be explained if Sanji were homosexual. Or at least bisexual. "I'm not, of course, though."

And I know that for a fact, so, stupid marimo, I'm not running away from it. Sanji wasn't a coward. He had earned his 77 million  bounty by facing everything head on. He was doing the same here. Right? Because it wasn't like Sanji had ignored this completely. He'd apologized and was trying to move on. Just because he couldn't confront Zoro in any other way than by starting a fight didn't mean that was afraid of a serious conversation. And so what if he hadn't taken the time to sit down and sort through his feelings? Throwing his cigarettes overboard just so he could stop thinking about the damn swordsman and all these conflicting emotions certainly did not mean he was a coward. It was just one of those things he couldn't deal with. Didn't want to deal with.

What Sanji didn't want was to be sitting on the galley floor in the middle of the night with Zoro's words plaguing his mind. He didn't want this guilt weighing down upon his shoulders. Nor did he want to think about how good it had felt to be physically close to the swordsman again. Even if Zoro was trying to make a point in the only sadistic, fucked up way he knew how to. Sanji hadn't even been able to continue that contact. He hadn't tried to keep that physical closeness.

"I'm an idiot. A big fucking idiot." Sanji knocked his head back into the cabinet. He did it again. "Zoro was right. I'm a coward. So fucking scared about what might actually happen if I take the time to sit down and sort through this shit. Or to wonder why the hell I'm still thinking about him."

He closed his eyes and tried to relax so he could actually figure this shit out. Even though he had accepted that he really was a coward and that he was thinking about the swordsman, he still didn't know why. It was there in the back of his brain just beyond walls he hadn't known he'd built. Barriers that Sanji had probably always ignored so that he could go on living this empty, lonely life. And now they were beginning to crack. Sanji could almost visualize what was happening: a brick wall slowly splitting and crumbling revealing a necessary portion of Sanji's being.

The tears were trickling down his cheeks, dropping off his chin onto Robin's note before he realized what he was doing. Sanji was crying again. Twice he had done this. Before it was because of the pent up guilt and overwhelming loneliness. Now it was for those reasons and others.

"Because Zoro was right when he said I was an ass and selfish and a prick. And because it's not fair to him that I bitch when it's my own fault," he said between sobs. "Or that I hid myself behind all these excuses just so I didn't have to face the truth. That I'm a lonely son of a bitch who can't stop remembering how good it felt to fall asleep in his arms. And how much it hurts to be told I'm pathetic and not the man he loves."

Sanji was crying harder, unable to stop the flood that had been building. He couldn't understand why anyone would love him, especially in the state he was in now. Now that he was in this black-hole of self-pity that was threatening to drag in everything that Sanji had created for himself. It was taking his sense of self, his love of cooking, the control he had so carefully crafted over the years. It was replacing all of that with a pathetic, coward who couldn't even figure out what he wanted.

He looked at Robin's note again.

P.S.

I hope you really want this.

"I don't," Sanji whispered. It was barely audible. But he had said it aloud even though the thought hadn't consciously formed. That wall crumbled, and his unconscious was flooding his conscious with that previously unanswerable question. He wanted this to end. This fucked up situation needed to end. And soon. Before the damage he'd caused was un-reparable and Zoro threw away any feelings he had. "I don't want him to stop loving me."

Images flashed through Sanji's mind. Zoro was kissing him, and Sanji was kissing him back. Zoro was whispering sweet nothings in his ear. Sanji panting, his forehead pressing into Zoro's chest as the other man thrust into him. Sanji was letting Zoro hold him tightly as they drifted to sleep, both in complete peace. Possibilities if he could just turn this around. "I want that."

Tears continued streaming down Sanji's cheeks. The hollowness and worthlessness he had felt earlier, though, was being replaced by a gentle tranquility. As he cried, it was relief that filled him. He kept crying, so many tears that Sanji didn't know he had.

At some point, Sanji fell asleep. His dead cigarette fell out from his lips as muscles relaxed. He was no longer able to maintain his upright position, and he steadily began to slide down the cabinet. He lay on the hard kitchen floor, curled tightly in a ball. His fingers were still tightly gripping Robin's note as though even in sleep he wanted to hold onto that reminder of what he wanted.

Morning came, dawn light shining through the window. Its honey rays fell across Sanji's face, waking Sanji. Eyelids fluttered open. A groan escaped from lips. Sanji turned over so that he faced away from the sun. The morning light still filled the galley, but it fell short of where Sanji was. The cook was asleep again in a dreamless, blissful state. There were no tormented thoughts penetrating his sleep. It was pure and deep, and it felt like the first time in forever that he had been able to sleep like this.