Okay. I don't like the majority of this, but at least it's something. I have more of this chapter written, but I decided to split it into two parts. Hopefully it won't be months before I get the next part posted. I'll try, I promise. Just check my Tumblr or Facebook for updates. Thank you so much for sticking with me everybody. And thanks to Tres13 for the read through on this chapter. :)

Then and Now

"Zoro… it's me, isn't it?"

Maybe it was because Sanji had asked him directly. Or maybe it was just because Zoro was anything but a coward. Whatever the reason, the swordsman turned and looked Sanji in the eyes. He clenched his jaw and stood a little straighter.

"Yes…"

They stood that way for a moment. One long moment that could have lasted years for all they knew. Time and space and dreams and reality ceased to exist as Zoro watched Sanji carefully, and Sanji tried to look as deeply as he could into Zoro's eyes.

But then that moment was gone, and Zoro was tugging his arm out of Sanji's grasp.

"I should go…" he said, and pushed past Sanji to escape back to the crow's nest.

"Wait, Zoro—"

The door slammed.

Sanji looked down at his palm. At the small cotton swab and the tiny spot of bright red blood.

"Zoro…" he said quietly in the empty space.

"It's okay…"

It took almost fifteen minutes for Sanji to make himself leave the infirmary. At first he couldn't get the majority of his body move. He stood for a long time with his hands limp at his sides, then on his hips, in his pockets, and then back to his hips. He paced the small area, unsure of what he should do. What could he do?

Zoro had just admitted to having feelings for him. This wasn't something he could just charge into, head first and feet flying. Sanji knew he had to be extremely cautious. He had to think this through and choose his words carefully. Knowing Zoro, these feelings were no doubt far from trivial. Zoro was serious about everything he did and he would never put himself through what he was putting himself through now if he wasn't sure, deeply sure, of what he felt. Sanji knew the least he could do, the only thing he could do, was show consideration for the gravity of the situation.

Running a hand over his mouth, Sanji took a slow breath. This explained so much about Zoro's behavior recently, not to mention their relationship and its oscillation. It explained the strange connection he had been experiencing, those moments where he would catch Zoro looking at him, or when their eyes would meet and there was just something, something inexplicable, something amazing that was unidentifiable but undeniably there.

Then, it hit him, a realization that slammed into Sanji so hard that it almost knocked the breath right out of his lungs.

Zoro had been avoiding everyone because he was trying to get over it. When Sanji had come up, Zoro had probably been in the middle of trying to train those feelings away.

Sanji's stomach tightened. That wasn't fair, it wasn't right. He needed to move. He needed to get to Zoro and let him know that it was fine. He didn't have to do pushups until he lost consciousness. He didn't have to hide in the crow's nest all day just to stay away from stupid cooks that couldn't see what was happening right in front of them.

Finally, Sanji got his feet to carry him out of the infirmary and across the deck. He reached the main mast in a few long strides and grabbed the rope ladder.

But then Sanji faltered.

The rope slid out of his hands.

Wait. What did this mean? Was he okay with this? Was he really okay with Zoro being attracted to him? If he climbed this ladder and told Zoro that he was all right with Zoro's feelings wasn't that kind of like he was accepting them?

Holy shit, was he accepting them?

Frozen once again, Sanji curled his fingers into his palms, straightened them out, and curled them again. He couldn't wait; he needed to talk to Zoro. He couldn't leave the swordsman alone now. He couldn't let Zoro walk away and think that he was the only one… Shit, what was he even thinking?

Damnit, this was actually happening.

If Sanji accepted everything that Zoro was offering, if he crossed that line, there would be no turning back. If he was going to climb this ladder and take this first step, he had better be ready because it was going to become a thing. It would cease to be just an idea or an intangible fancy and would become something that was right there, right there where it could be seen and touched.

Sanji hesitation dragged on. A minute turned into two, two into four.

Could he do this?

Then a memory rose to the forefront of Sanji's mind. He remembered the look on Zoro's face when the cook had first shown him the little green fruit. That silly, seemingly insignificant thing had finally mended whatever had been holding the ship's first mate and cook back from becoming friends. That crazy mutant fruit had saved them. Sanji remembered the way Zoro had looked at him when he had asked for the pie. The way his dark eyes had lit up like Sanji had only seen when the swordsman was fighting.

Sanji climbed the ladder.

He didn't know how he knew that Zoro had gone back to the crow's nest, but Sanji was sure the swordsman would be there and not in the boy's cabin or out on the deck. It was just a feeling he had, a strange kind of sixth sense that had developed after knowing and being around Zoro for so many months. Sanji had a feel for the habits of the entire crew, but it was different with Zoro, easier. It was possibly due to the fact that they were the same age but Sanji had never lingered on the phenomenon long enough to achieve any sort of enlightenment in that regard.

The space was darker then when Sanji had come up earlier. The lamp Zoro had left on the floor was out and the moon was only bright enough to make the vaguest of shapes detectable. However, even with the absence of light, Sanji easily found Zoro's outline sitting on the bench in front of the largest window. The air was calm, no palpable tension that Sanji could discern, so the cook pulled himself up through the trap door and closed it behind him. He crossed the wooden planks and stood a little to Zoro's left, his hands in his pockets.

"Can I sit?" he asked.

Zoro was quiet for a moment before he answered, "Sure." His voice was soft and sounded neither angry nor sorrowful.

Sanji moved closer and lowered himself to the bench. He settled back against the wooden paneling and took a long, deep breath to try and calm his racing heartbeat. There wasn't any reason for him to be nervous, that was ridiculous, but damnit all if his body wasn't a jumble of twitching muscles and anxious limbs. He kept his hands in his pocket and fingered his lighter slowly.

"You don't have to hide from me, you know..."

Zoro didn't move and he said nothing. Strange. Sanji had chosen his words in an attempt to get a rise out of the swordsman. At least something like that would be familiar ground but Zoro's unresponsiveness meant he wasn't going to bite, so Sanji knew he was going to have to change tactics.

Pulling his pack from his pocket, Sanji withdrew a cigarette and tapped it on the back of his hand.

This was going to be harder than he thought.

"Mind if I smoke?"

Zoro rested his head on the window sill. The moon illuminated his features and sent gentle shadows from his eyelashes across his rough cheeks.

"It's fine."

Sanji stood and opened the window. The breeze was cool compared to the air inside the gym and Sanji breathed it in gratefully as he sat back down and lit up. He slipped the lighter and the pack back into his pockets and rolled the stick between his lips.

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier."

Zoro still didn't move. "Which part?"

"The stuff I said about you and Nami."

Zoro's shoulders raised and lowered slowly. "You didn't know."

"Yeah but," Sanji paused to inhale and slowly blow a stream of smoke over his shoulder. "Still…"

What he wanted to say should have been easy, he could feel it, hear it in his head, but when Sanji tried to put it into words his mouth wouldn't cooperate. The fire he had felt in his gut when he had left the infirmary had dwindled to a small, dying flame.

Rubbing his forehead with the tips of his fingers, Sanji let out a humorless laugh and shook his head. "Shit… I had such conviction when I climbed up here, but now it's just fucking gone."

Zoro took a breath and shifted, crossing his arms over his chest. "You didn't have to. I really wanted to avoid this particular conversation anyway."

Sanji looked at him, "This conversation?"

Zoro was quiet for another moment before speaking, "Yeah, the one where you let me down easy. I knew you'd do it that way. I thought there was a chance you'd get pissed and start a fight, but I didn't really believe it. You're pretty soft about this kind of stuff."

Sanji held back the comment about how he was never soft about anything unless it involved women. He wasn't soft at all, ever. He just realized the delicacy of the situation. Zoro might be about as tough as anyone could ever be, but there were some things that were impossible to just brush off.

"Zoro," Sanji started, "this is gonna be weird and hard to understand, but—"

"—Wait."

Sanji stopped, "What?"

Zoro turned to look at him and his eyes were darker than the cook had ever seen them, deeper than he had ever thought possible. They were so glassy and so tight with regret and want that it took Sanji's breath away.

"Can I ask you something first?"

Sanji nodded slowly, unable to speak.

Zoro swallowed. "Why do you watch the sunset like you do, and not the sunrise?"

Mouth suddenly dry, Sanji tried to swallow. His throat had closed up and it took him three tries before he could get a sound past his lips.

"W…what?" How did Zoro know about that? How—when—had he noticed? Sanji didn't even think he did it that often.

Zoro shifted again turning his body towards Sanji's and resting against the sill. "You don't care about the sunrise. Sometimes you'll smoke in the mornings and not even glance at it, or you'll be in the galley and miss it completely. But the sunset, it doesn't matter what we're doing, you'll at least turn to look for a few seconds. I've seen you so hypnotized by a sunset that you forgot you were smoking and the thing burned down to a stub between your fingers."

The mention of the cigarette made Sanji look down at the one in his hand at that moment. It burned brightly in his shadow, the ash smoldering and falling to the floor at his feet.

"That's uh…" he muttered.

He must have taken too long to answer because Zoro spoke again.

"You don't have to answer, I was just wondering."

Sanji shook his head. "It's stupid."

"Bet it's not." Zoro's voice was quiet. He almost sounded amused.

Well, fuck it. Whatever.

Sanji took a deep drag and mimicked Zoro's posture, turning to face the other man. He didn't speak at first, but when he found his voice, it was quiet, forlorn.

"I almost starved to death when I was a kid. I was stuck on an island, nothing around for hundreds of miles. I was there for over a month with not much more than a chunk of bread." Sanji paused hesitant to speak about something he had never voiced to anyone before, not even Nami.

"There wasn't much to do every day but sit around and think about dying. I was sure it was going to happen at night. I thought my body would give up while I was asleep and wasn't actively fighting to stay alive. Kind of like it would get caught off guard or something. Anyway, every evening when I sat there, watching the sunset, I treated it like the last time. I would take in every second of it; savor every last moment of light. I knew I was going to die in the dark, but I wanted the last thing I saw to be the sun reflecting off the ocean."

He swallowed, letting his words hang in the air. Zoro was still as stone, his face still turned towards Sanji.

"What about the sunrise?" Zoro whispered. "Wasn't that something you could look forward to?"

Sanji shook his head. "The sunrise meant that there was another day to wait through. Another day I was going to have to sit there and watch and pray and feel my body eating away at itself and then be devastated when no ships came to rescue me and I had to watch the sun leave me again and the ocean would disappear." He said it all in one breath, one long string of words that ran together in his attempt to get them out and said and done with. He didn't want to say them. He didn't want to remember those awful days and the shame of wanting to die almost as much as he wanted to live.

After a long silence Sanji realized that Zoro was holding his breath. The cook puffed on the cigarette, pulling the ash down to the filter in one breath. He shouldn't have told Zoro; he should have just made something up. He could have fabricated some kind of cool story involving a girl, then Zoro wouldn't think he was weak and pathetic, no better than when he was a kid.

As embarrassment washed over him, Sanji crushed the butt out on the bench and turned away. He leaned back and slid low, slouching so he could shove his hands deep into his pockets.

"I told you," he growled, "It's stupid."

At least now they were on a more even level. Zoro had confessed to feelings that were no doubt humiliating, putting him in a position of severe vulnerability, something Sanji was sure the swordsman was not used to. However, even though that matter was foremost in their minds at the moment, Sanji now felt raw and defenseless after his own confession. Now he really didn't know what to say. Any sort of speech he had planned had escaped him and was now secondary to his shame.

God damnit. If this was anything like what Zoro was feeling, this was the worst kind of situation. How had they come to this? How were they ever going to fix it?

Zoro's voice was so sudden and so unexpected that it startled Sanji.

"You survived on an island with no food or water… for over a month?"

It was Sanji's turn to shrug. "I had a little. A bundle of scraps…"

He didn't look at Zoro. He didn't want to see the swordsman's face. If there was judgment there it would kill him, and if there was pity, that would be even worse.

"That's…" Zoro said softly. "I don't think I could do that…"

Sanji felt the world drop out from under him. The crow's nest, the ship, the ocean, everything disappeared as Zoro's words hung in the air between them. Sanji's head snapped to the side so quickly he might have cracked his neck. It felt like his breath caught and his lungs filled at the same time as he met Zoro's eyes once again. When he looked back into those pools of polished stone Sanji knew that what Zoro had said meant so much more than mere surprise. There had been awe in his voice, a genuine admiration in his tone.

Zoro did not think Sanji was weak at all.

Suddenly, everything was easy again. The words that Sanji had planned, that he had agonized over, were suddenly insufficient. Looking at Zoro and seeing the swordsman laid out so open, so incredibly free and wanting, Sanji suddenly knew what to say without thinking.

"I love you."

Zoro didn't react for a moment. He couldn't. Words had come from Sanji's lips and he knew a part of him understood them, but other parts of him were slow to catch up. He sat staring at Sanji, eyebrows raised only slightly before he finally moved. Zoro jerked as if waking from a dream. He closed his eyes, shook his head in an attempt to clear it, and then opened his eyes again to look at Sanji.

"What?"

Sanji smiled. His blue eyes sparkled. What the hell was he supposed to do when Sanji looked at him like that?

"I love you," Sanji said again.

Zoro's head spun. He brought his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose and tried desperately to make sense of what was happening. Had the love-cook gone insane? Had Zoro's earlier confession done something to him? Broken him somehow?

"How… how is that even possible?" Zoro murmured. "What are you—how do you even—"

"—Don't ask me how it's possible," Sanji chuckled. "I don't know. I don't care. I just know that I do, and I have for a while."

Zoro looked at him again, searched his face for signs that he had lost it, but there was nothing. Sanji's posture was relaxed, confident. His eyes were soft and his face open. Over the last few months Zoro had come to learn that Sanji put on many different faces for a lot of different people and a lot of different situations. Zoro had come to recognize all of them. He could tell when Sanji was pretending, he could tell when Sanji was smiling only to please, and he could tell when Sanji was smiling to cover emotions that had nothing to do with amusement or happiness.

This smile was real.

Mouth suddenly dry, Zoro tried to swallow. His heart was beginning to beat a little faster. That heavy, sick feeling that had been churning in his guts for the last hour was melting away and was slowly being replaced by an excited sort of tightening. It was a feeling similar to what Zoro felt before a fight, or when Luffy stood tall and with a few simple words, reaffirmed Zoro's loyalty and his admiration to the crew.

But how was this even happening? Sanji was crazy for women! Anything with breasts and long legs turned him into blubbering mess of flying hearts and noodle limbs. How had his one-track mind gone so off kilter? Zoro knew he was so far from anything that Sanji wanted that it was stupid to even imagine anything even close—

"Zoro…" Sanji's voice pulled—wrenched the swordsman from his thoughts.

"What does this mean?" Zoro asked. He hadn't planned on actually voicing that, but his mouth had gotten away from him.

Sanji shook his head and spread his hands, palms up and open. "What do you want it to mean?"

What did he want it to mean?

Turning away, Zoro tightened his arms over his chest. He had never considered this as a possibility and therefore he was completely unprepared. Not that he had been completely prepared when Sanji had come up through the trap door ten minutes ago. The last thing in the known universe that Zoro had wanted to hear was Sanji's rejection. He had been dreading it like the worst kind of death sentence but at least he had thought he had known what was coming.

Now, he didn't know what to do.

"Hey," Sanji's voice was soft as the cook sat forward and slid his body closer. "What are you thinking?"

Zoro shook his head. "I'm thinking I might be dead."

Sanji scoffed. "You're not dead."

"You could be dead too."

"I'm not dead. We're not dead. Don't be stupid."

Zoro, despite the racing of his heart and the pounding of his pulse in his ears, couldn't resist being antagonistic.

"Don't call me stupid, stupid. I'm emotionally compromised right now. That's a dick move."

Sanji just laughed. "It's not like this is any easier for me. This is weird, and fucked up."

Zoro didn't have anything else to say besides, "Yeah, a little."

"But you know," Sanji's body shifted again, closer. He slid slowly on the bench bringing his hip close enough to brush against Zoro's.

"It's also good."

Zoro couldn't move. His body was paralyzed with everything from excitement, to fear, to a sharp, sharp want that boiled at his core. The swordsman had never before let himself go completely and feel the most primal parts of this thing that was between him and Sanji. But now, with everything that had happened, with everything that the cook was possibly offering and the way Sanji leaned into him, his voice soft and his attitude welcoming, Zoro let it happen. He let the want free, igniting an almost desperate arousal that burned him from the inside and out to his arms, his legs, the tips of his toes and fingers. He felt it in his chest, his stomach, down between his thighs, and even up behind his eyes and in his head.

Sanji noticed the change and moved closer. When the cook placed a hand on the window sill his body loomed over Zoro's, invading the swordsman's space. His blue eyes were bright in the darkness and his easy posture and relaxed attitude had given away to something much more intense. Zoro couldn't stop himself from hoping that maybe Sanji had also been holding himself back, and now he was seeing the cook in a state similar to his own.

As Sanji leaned over him Zoro could smell his shampoo and the faint aroma of spices. Cayenne. Basil.

Sanji's voice was barely a whisper when he spoke, his lips so close Zoro could almost feel them.

"Stop me."

Zoro swallowed, stared back at the cook defiantly and shook his head. There was no way he wasn't letting this happen.

"No."

Sanji leaned in and pressed his lips to Zoro's. They were warm and rough from the sun and harsh winds. He felt Zoro's breath catch and he scooted closer, tilted his head to change the angle. He pressed in slowly again, savoring the contact. For one moment Sanji lost himself in sensation, in the sweet give of Zoro's kiss, the slight tremble in the powerful swordsman's body. But then Sanji pulled away. He was hungry, starving for more of Zoro, but the cook knew this was still precarious territory.

Zoro looked at him with eyes that burned. His jaw muscles flexed as he swallowed thickly. Sanji was still close enough to share breath with the swordsman. He was close enough to see every individual lash, ever fleck of color surrounding dilated pupils. Sanji lifted a hand to brush his fingers across Zoro's jaw.

He whispered against Zoro's skin, "This is what I want it to mean…"

Zoro's mouth fell open in a silent gasp. He nodded quickly, his breath coming faster as he sat up and slipped a hand into to the collar of Sanji's shirt. The cook let himself be pulled in and groaned as Zoro's mouth found his again. This time Sanji opened, teased Zoro's lips with his tongue until the swordsman responded. Sanji slid his fingers up into coarse, green hair as his tongue slid inside to taste the most forbidden of fruits this world had to offer.

Zoro kissed like he fought. There was no holding back, no feigns or bluffs. He put everything he had into it and took everything that Sanji gave him. It was trusting and open and the most amazing thing that Sanji had ever experienced. When he pulled away once again, Sanji was screaming inside. It wasn't enough; it was never going to be enough. Zoro was perfect, a perfect mixture of confident and unsure. He was forceful, but not enough to be overpowering. In fact, the way he clung to Sanji revealed a desperation and eagerness that was so like inexperience that it took Sanji aback.

Sliding his thumb over Zoro's bottom lip, Sanji asked, "Have you done this before?"

Zoro's breaths were still harsh and he fought to keep them under control.

"Kiss? Of course I've kissed before."

Sanji smiled and leaned in brushing his nose against the swordsman's.

"I didn't mean the kissing. Have you ever been with anyone before?"

It was no surprise to Sanji when Zoro tensed and hesitated a moment before he shook his head.

The cook continued his gentle caress and lowered his forehead to rest against Zoro's. He couldn't hold back the smile that tugged at his lips. "That's kind of cute."

Zoro made a face. "Shut up."

"I'm serious," Sanji chuckled. "I would have thought Roronoa Zoro would have broken at least a few hearts, even though you're a sloppy drunk that hardly ever bathes."

Zoro growled without any real menace. "You're hilarious. So what about you? How many women have had the amazingly bad luck of getting with the 'love-cook'?"

"Not many. The first was some magistrate's wife that came through the restaurant, and I don't even really remember the second. I just know she was a blonde."

"Slut."

Sanji laughed. He was delighted that the two of them could still bicker—even if it was mostly for show. Apparently, the insults had also evolved. Now instead of baiting each other into a fight, it was possible they were trying to bait each other into something completely different. To Sanji, it really didn't matter. Either would be satisfying.

Raising his head, the cook placed one last kiss on Zoro's forehead before he pulled away. He stood slowly, brushing at his slacks. He straightened his jacket and held out his hand.

"Come on, let's go."

Zoro eyed him suspiciously. "Go where?"

"To the washroom," Sanji growled, "You stink."

Zoro made another face and reluctantly took Sanji's hand. After he retrieved his swords, the swordsman let the cook lead him to the trapdoor. As Sanji threw the latch and lifted he heavy panel, Zoro's voice stopped him.

"Sanji…"

"Hm?" Sanji turned back.

Another beat of hesitation. "So this… us. Are we…?"

"Yes," Sanji said calmly. He ran his thumb over the back of Zoro's hand. "Yes, Zoro, we are."

The skin over the bridge of Zoro's nose darkened and the swordsman looked away.

"…Okay."

Sanji held himself back. At that moment he wanted nothing but Zoro's body under him. He wasn't sure what he would do with it, since Zoro's body was so very, very different than any other body he had ever fantasized about, but the cook was sure he would figure it out when the situation was presented to him.

"You coming?" Sanji grinned.

Zoro nodded and followed him down the ladder.

TBC

Wow, almost done people! Next is the last chapter!