Chapter song: "Can't Help Falling in Love" by Elvis

"Cook-san?"

"Y-yes, Robin-chan?"

"Is there perhaps something on your mind?" she asked him knowingly.

"Why would you think that, my lovely flower?"

"Because you've asked me if I'd like a cup of coffee three times within the past ten minutes. Also, you've been pacing outside the door the entire time."

Sanji gave an awkward laugh and stepped slowly into the library where Robin was reading. "Nothing gets past you, my sweet." She indulged him with a smile and motioned for him to join her at the table.

"Have a seat and allow me to make you a cup of coffee this once," she entreated, moving to pour the brew before he could argue. "Now tell me, is there something I can help you with?"

"Many things, surely, Robin-chan. I feel I can trust you absolutely, and I know that you're a valued confidant to other members of the crew…"

"I take it this is about Swordsman-san?"

Sanji swallowed nervously, meeting her penetrating gaze as she took a seat across from him with their coffee. "That would be an accurate assumption, yes. I'm sure he's told you all about our…um…"

She shook her head instantly. "I can assure you that Zoro has never spoken to me about his personal life with you. He only came to me to share his own feelings on the matter or entreat me for advice when he felt that you were in need of help, such as when the curse was afflicting you."

"Oh. Well, you obviously know what's been going on to some extent, because I couldn't keep my big, stupid mouth shut," he told her wryly, remembering his embarrassing outburst. "At the risk of further offending your delicate sensibilities, mine and Zoro's…interactions…have been ongoing since then, as you may have guessed."

Robin giggled cutely and gave him a mischievous grin in a clear communication that she had. "Please, don't censure yourself on my account. Why don't you get straight to the heart of whatever's distressing you?" she suggested.

"Okay. Last night we went to a restaurant on a date," he began quickly, casually sipping his drink.

"How lovely. No doubt the sex was satisfying, so I assume your concern is regarding something of a more innocent nature?"

He choked on his coffee and gave her a withering glance. "Robiiin! Sometimes your perceptive abilities are a bit too forward."

"Nonsense. We're both adults here, Cook-san. I wouldn't be much help if I wasn't comfortable discussing these things." She sipped her drink innocently, urging him to continue with her eyes.

"Okay, yes, we had sex after dinner at a nearby hotel…but it was different."

"They say it's healthy for couples to try new things in the bedroom," she told him seriously.

He reddened at her casual tone and forced himself to ignore the perverted images that his mind presented in response to her words. "That's the thing—we're not a couple, and we haven't put a label on whatever we are. I know that he's serious about me though, and after last night, I think it could become like that for me, too."

She smiled at him with genuine delight. "He confessed to you then," she guessed, "presumably, in the heat of passion."

"I—I mean he…how did you know that?!" he stuttered, mortified.

"Like I said, Swordsman-san has spoken to me about the depth of his feelings for you, and I know him well enough to surmise that he wouldn't have openly admitted such feelings this early on unless he were too overcome in the moment to use his reason."

"So he said that he loved me by accident?" Sanji asked, confused.

"In a sense. However, I don't think that in any way cheapens the moment—rather, I expect it surprised and embarrassed him how easily you were able to draw it out of him."

"He didn't seem all that embarrassed. I got the sense that he was relieved."

"Perhaps he was in the moment, but I think it's likely that he'll begin overthinking how his hasty words will affect you," she contemplated. After a short pause in which they each took a sip of their coffee, Robin asked, "How is it affecting you, Cook-san?"

Sanji thought about it, identifying the expected insecurity and disbelief that came with having a deep-seated lack of self-respect resulting from his miserable upbringing—he hadn't told the crew about it yet, because the memories of his early life before he'd met Zeff were still too painful and surreal to share with his nakama. There were things about his family that he was deeply ashamed of…

Vinsmoke—the surname he had been born with, and the family of ruthless assassins who the cook had just barely escaped from at the tender age of eight. His own father had made it clear that he didn't need such a worthless excuse for a son and had let Sanji leave under the condition that he relinquish all of his familial ties. Even so, there had always been an undercurrent of terror inside the blond that kept him awake at night, wondering if his life as a pirate could remain unnoticed by his family indefinitely.

The Vinsmokes were merciless and power hungry—his father had rejected a failure, deeming him to be too weak compared to his other children, but as the Straw Hat pirates became more famous, Sanji's fear that his past would one day catch up to him continued to grow. He was truly terrified that they would come for him one day. Although he knew that his crew would never judge him for it, the cook still harboured the lingering notion that his blood was dirty—tainted by the Vinsmoke genes that had created him. He had to force himself to stop asking how Zoro, or anyone else, could possible love a failure like him and focus on the way it made him feel to be loved at all.

"I'm happy," he concluded in response to Robin's question. "It scares the shit out of me, and sometimes I find it so unbelievable that I can only conclude I'm living in a dream, but those are my demons that I have to face. I don't want Zoro to think that I'm running away from him," when it's really my past that I'm running from, he added silently. It made him ashamed, because he knew that Zoro regarded his past traumas as stepping stones that he had overcome and lessons to learn from on his journey to be the greatest swordsman. By contrast, Sanji was a coward running from the pain he'd suffered—shutting it out and pretending that he wasn't affected by it when he was actually terrified that it would come back to haunt him.

"I don't know what to do, Robin."

"Do whatever you want to do, Sanji-kun."

He sighed into his coffee, abandoning all pretenses of being a calm and collected gentleman to allow himself a brief moment of respite for reflection. "It's not that simple," he told her woefully.

"Love rarely is."

As Robin predicted, Zoro started walking on eggshells around Sanji the very next day, never looking him in the eye for more than a quick glance and always kissing him as the schedule dictated and not a peck more. He held the blond no differently than usual, matching the cook's pace whenever he deepened their kisses, but he was obviously holding himself back from initiating anything for fear of making Sanji uncomfortable.

By the time they reached kiss number 75, the cook could take it no longer. He decided that he needed to show the stupid swordsman that he wasn't an easily frightened bird on the constant verge of taking flight. It had been two days since Zoro had let it slip that he loved him, and Sanji hadn't run for the hills yet, which apparently wasn't a clear enough sign that the cook had calmly accepted the other man's feelings.

That was why, when he was setting Zoro's plate down at dinner that night, Sanji gave the swordsman kiss number 80—right in front of the entire crew. It wasn't as though they didn't all know that the two men were kissing regularly, but with the exception of Zoro's one slip-up, their lip-locks had always been a private affair. The fact that Sanji willingly put it on display in front of his precious ladies and all of his immature crewmates, meant that he wasn't ashamed of what he and Zoro were doing and was ready to face whatever taunting the others had in store.

"Yowza! That wasn't very subtle, Cook-bro," Franky commented with a lewd wink.

"You look a little warm, Zoro. Do you need to loosen your collar?" Nami teased.

"He doesn't have a collar, Nami."

"It's an expression that means he needs to cool down, because he's blushing like a schoolgirl," she explained, thumping Luffy on the head.

"Zoro would make a pretty girl, wouldn't he Sanji?" the captain asked with a food-filled grin.

"I think he's pretty enough the way he is," the blond replied smoothly, "and he has proven himself to be a lovely impromptu flower arrangement—for a marimo."

"What's that on your neck, curly? Looks like a love-bite," Zoro lied, causing the blond's eyebrow to twitch dangerously.

"My love certainly bites, and you would do well to remember that, moss-head, before you ever think of marking my beautiful skin for real."

"You two are so cute," Nami commented sweetly.

"Not as cute as you and Robin-chan, my beautiful swan!"

"You guys are still doing the dance with no pants then," Franky concluded, which was an ironic expression coming from a man in a speedo.

"Damn it, you perverted cyborg! Save your vulgar expressions for when we aren't eating at the table!" Sanji snapped, his face flushed.

"As a faithful night-watch, I think it's safe to say that this table has seen worse," Robin reminded him slyly.

"He is pretty loud, even for a screamer," Zoro added conversationally.

"I'll make you scream if you don't shut the hell up, shitty-bastard!"

"Oh yeah? Looking forward to it, Cook."

"I'll erase both of your debts if you let me watch," Nami chimed in with a catlike smile. Zoro shot her a questioning glance as if he were trying to decide whether or not she was serious.

"Don't consider it, you perverted exhibitionist!" Sanji yelled at him.

The swordsman held his hands up in apology. "Sorry, but I owe her a lot of money. You can understand her interest in voyeurism, right Cook?"

"I don't know what's going on, but you're gonna get kicked, Zoro," Luffy warned him, staring warily at Sanji's flaming limbs.

"I can treat the burn wounds, but there's no saving a caved-in skull," Chopper added with a giggle.

"Don't fight in the galley, bros! We don't need any more holes in the wall," Franky implored them.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm finished eating—you wanna take this outside, shit-cook?"

Sanji cracked his knuckles, purely for effect since he wouldn't be using his hands to fight. "Gladly."

They left their crewmates to finish the meal in peace, but neither of them were really looking for a fight. The minute the galley door closed behind them, Zoro pulled the blond into his arms and captured his mouth in a desperate kiss, lifting him a foot off of the deck with unexpected enthusiasm.

"What were you doing in there?" he asked, breaking apart to look at the blond searchingly. "If you act like that so openly than they'll think—"

"Let them think it," Sanji responded, breathless from the other man's sudden attack. "It was fun for a while, sneaking around to kiss in private, but I think we should get the crew used to the idea of us doing stuff like that…you know, for if we continue this after the curse is gone. Hiding it would be too much work, and it's enough work just being the ship's cook."

"If you really want to than I think that's a great idea," Zoro told him, genuinely surprised by the suggestion.

"Have you been back to the men's quarters since this morning?"

"No, why?"

Instead of answering him, Sanji slipped out of the swordsman's arms and motioned for him to follow the blond into the shared bedroom. The cook locked the door behind them and flicked on the lights. Zoro immediately noticed that the hanging bunk beds had been slightly rearranged—where there had been six wooden beds suspended from the ceiling in three pairs, there was now a double bed created from two of the lower bunks which had been unhooked from their upper neighbors and joined at floor level.

"Franky modified those two so that they could be fitted together and lowered. It's reversible for when we sleep at night, but this way we can take advantage of the room since it has a lockable door."

"Did you ask him to make this for us?" Zoro asked as he ducked under the hanging bunks to test out the mattress.

"He'd already suggested it, so I just took back what you told him about us not needing it. I know he assumed we would want to share it all the time, but its fine if we just put it together for—"

"Come here, love-cook. Try it out before you write it off as an occasional thing," Zoro interrupted, catching Sanji's wrist as he approached and pulling the blond down to lie beside him. They fit together like spoons, the swordsman curling around the slimmer man's lean form with an arm draped over his waist. The cook could feel the swordsman's even breathing against his neck, sending shivers down his spine as he cuddled into him. "Mmm it's pretty roomy. I bet we'd be real warm sleeping here around the winter islands," Zoro commented, already yawning as they made themselves comfortable.

"Yeah, and sweat our asses off by the summer ones. Your natural body temperature is like a damn furnace."

"Sleep in the nude then," Zoro suggested, and the cook felt his sly smile against his shoulder blade.

"You wish, pervert."

"You're the one who had Franky build us a sex bunk."

"Don't call it that!" Sanji bristled, squirming against the larger man. "Franky named it the Love Nest," he added sheepishly.

Zoro snorted. "Are we supposed to be love birds?"

"I don't know, can marimos lay eggs?"

"Why am I the one laying the eggs?"

"Because they'd be green—all the better for camouflaging."

"Yours would have a swirly pattern on the shell. That wouldn't be very good—the babies would hatch and get dizzy."

"I wish I were a bird right now, so I could peck out your eyes."

"But if I'm also a bird than I could just fly away, and then you wouldn't get laid, bird-brain."

There was a short pause in which Sanji seemed to be considering his reply. "Zoro…"

"Yeah?"

"I have no fucking idea why we're talking about this. It is by far the weirdest conversation I've ever had in my life—we are not goddamn birds."

"Blame the cyborg and his lame taste in names," Zoro said with a barking laugh that the blond felt travelling through his body.

"Usopp's was worse. He suggested the Sodomy Den."

"Gross. Can we go back to the bird thing? I'm kind of curious about how birds even have sex. Do they do it in their nests? What do you think, Mr. Voyeur? You ever been birdwatching?"

"First, you're an asshole. Second, I believe they do it like this…"

Suddenly the blond was straddling him, pinning Zoro on his back as he gave a demonstrative roll of his hips. The motion piqued the swordsman's libido, sending blood to the area where Sanji's thrusts created a warm friction. He leaned down to press their mouths together and draw out Zoro's tongue.

"This wouldn't be as much fun with beaks," he commented, catching the cook's tongue between his lips and sucking eagerly.

"Or without dicks," Sanji replied, sliding their hardening erections together with another sensual hip roll. His hands were braced on either side of Zoro's head, but the swordsman's were freely roaming over the strong thighs pinning him in place, sneaking under the white dress shirt to feel the hard muscles of the cook's abs. He gripped the blond hairs trailing into his waistband, tugging at them playfully while Sanji expertly ravished his mouth.

"Birds don't have dicks?" Zoro asked rhetorically between gasps—it was starting to feel hot now, both of their breathing coming in a heavy pants as sweat started to stick their shirts to their backs. The cook was not letting up with his grinding, swatting the swordsman's hand away when he tried to undo their belts.

"Not yet," he ordered. "We're doing it like love birds, marimo. I'm gonna make you come just like this," he explained, increasing the rhythm of his thrusts. Zoro bucked into him, matching the cook's delicious movements with careful thrusts of his own. A groan escaped him when Sanji's tongue found the crook in his neck, drawing a wet trail from his collar bone to the underside of his throat.

"Oh shit…I didn't know you could do that," he confessed, tossing his head back as his groin flared with the heat of Sanji's rubbing against it. He could already feel his orgasm building as his cock throbbed beneath the fabric of his pants.

The cook smirked against his jaw, nipping the bone there and flicking his tongue over the skin between his teeth. "Are you kidding? Haven't you ever dry-humped before?"

"No. I'm not a bird. I like to use my dick as intended—oh f-fuck…mmm, that feels awesome."

His focus switched solely to the other man's increasingly erratic thrusts, pleased when Sanji managed to remove their shirts without losing his momentum. His pale chest was flushed and heaving from the effort—the blond really was doing most of the work on top like that—and the sight of Sanji rocking above him, head thrown back as he rode the swordsman as if he could fuck him through their clothes, brought Zoro to the edge of his peak.

"Shit, Zoro. I'm so hard it actually hurts, but I can't stop…ah!" He could feel the swordsman's hardness twitching through the stretched fabric and knew that he was close as well.

"At this rate…I'm gonna...mmm…come in my pants," Zoro got out, humming in pleasure when the blond latched onto one of his nipples and sucked hard. It perked up under the smooth flick of his tongue, adding to the sensations that were assaulting the swordsman's senses.

"Change your pants after," the cook muttered as if it were obviously, "or stay naked. I can get behind that."

"Literally?" Zoro asked. "Because I want you inside me again, Sanji. I want you to fuck me even harder, until I can't sit in a chair without the pain reminding me how good it felt to have your dick buried in my ass."

The blond was hanging onto every word, a strangled moan slipping out as he pressed their groins together. Sanji wasn't able to respond in time before his orgasm hit, shaking his entire frame with the intensity of it as he continued riding his pleasure along with the swordsman. Zoro gripped his narrow waist a few moments after, thrusting against him one last time as warm come filled his pants.

Sanji flopped down, covering him like a blanket, his heart pounding as he lay atop the swordsman's chest and waited for his breathing to slow down after the post-orgasm high. Blond hair spilled over Zoro's shoulder like honey—sticky from sweat and shining bright-yellow against the other man's dark skin. He ran his fingers through it, marvelling at its softness against his callused hand. The cook had nuzzled into the curve of his neck, planting light kisses in the hollow with absentminded tenderness. Zoro stroked a thumb across his cheek, daring to believe for the moment that this was real.

"I feel dirty, Cook."

"Me too. In more ways than one, although I don't know why—dry-humping is kid stuff. I can't believe you've never done it."

"I probably just grew up too fast."

"Yeah? That sounds like you. I bet you looked like an adult by the time you were fifteen."

"I could grow more than your measly scruff by the time I was twelve."

"Bullshit. You're disturbingly hairless for your size, but that could be because some areas don't get enough sunlight to support thicker clumps of moss."

"I don't think you're in any position to be making fun of people's hair, curly-brows."

"Shut up, chlorophyll."

"Dartboard."

"Kelp-head."

"Narutomaki."

"You belong at the bottom of the ocean."

"You belong in a bowl of ramen."

"Hey, do you like ramen?"

"Yeah. You should make some."

"Okay."

They drifted into comfortable silence, Sanji tracing random patterns in Zoro's nearly non-existent chest hair with his pale fingers while the swordsman simply gazed at his face. Part of him was still waiting for the blond to suddenly disappear, because it was too surreal—too impossible a long-awaited desire—for him to fully comprehend that the cook was really with him willingly.

He must have made some sort of discontented noise, because Sanji shifted to prop himself up on the swordsman's chest, piercing him with one blue eye. Zoro tried to memorize the other man's flawless features, reaching out to sweep back his fringe and reveal a second scrutinizing eye.

"You're not gonna scare me away," he said firmly, as if he could read the swordsman's mind. Something dark began brewing in those seas of blue that held Zoro's gaze—he sensed a storm of emotions rolling beneath the surface of Sanji's calm demeanor and knew that something was bothering the cook, too. "If anything, it'll be me who screws this up," he added, so quietly that even at this distance the swordsman had to strain to hear it.

"Why?" Zoro asked him simply.

Sanji's expression blanked for a painfully long moment. "Because…I'm not an easy person to love."

"Since when have I ever made things easy for myself?"

The blond's lips quirked into a smile at that. "I know that you're a masochist and all, but even you can't carry this burden."

"You're not a burden, Sanji. Where did you get that stupid idea?"

He dropped his gaze and became very quiet, pulling away from the swordsman's touch so that his hair spilled over his face once more. "It's not just about me…It's about where I came from."

Zoro raised an eyebrow. "You mean the Baratie? I think I can handle a fighting cook, no matter how unruly." He smiled at the blond, noticing how the other man seemed uncomfortable with the topic and reluctant to delve into it further. Even so, he seemed on the verge of giving a more concise answer when he abruptly closed himself off again, quelling the storm in his eyes and reverting back to his calm, collected pretense.

"I need a cigarette," he said suddenly, sliding out of the bed and redressing with an urgency that left Zoro feeling cold from his absence. There was a lingering tension in Sanji's shoulders that the swordsman didn't like, but he knew better than to ask him if he was alright. The cook lit up and took a drag from his cigarette, which seemed to immediately improve his despondent mood. "Well, I'm going to clean up and start planning lunch—maybe I will make ramen. Don't you dare leave your dirty pants lying around, moss-head. We share this room with the crew."

Sanji flashed a wry smile as he turned away, startling Zoro with the abruptness of his exit. He didn't think to call the cook back before it was too late. What the heck's gotten into him? he wondered with a twinge of trepidation. I don't like the look in his eyes when he shuts down like that. Whatever he was about to tell me, it can't be good…