The week could not have gone any slower. Actually, Zoro swore time had purposely slowed down just to torment him. It wasn't just time, people seemed to be determined to drive Zoro slowly insane over the course of the next few days. Nami seemed to latch on to Zoro's sense of eagerness and used it to her advantage. Their bathroom had never been cleaner, the dishes in the kitchen were washed, dried, and put away for maybe the first time ever, and he somehow ended up owing her over one hundred dollars over the course of the weekend. He still had just enough presence of mind to be ticked at her, but not enough sense to put a stop to any of it. His mind was filled with Sanji and Tuesday and everything else took a back seat in his head.
And it wasn't just Nami. Brook had asked Zoro to pick up an extra shift that weekend, making Zoro's long week drag on even longer with work. At least their CD collections were nicely re-alphabetized. That creepy Doflamingo had been in on Saturday, just to ruin Zoro's mood probably. And then, even more frightening, Robin had come in. She was hosting another party, a Christmas party it seemed, and she insisted Zoro and Nami come. Zoro grumbled some vague excuse for why he couldn't make it, but she piqued his curiosity.
"It's casual dress, Zoro," she said. "I think you'll enjoy it more. There will be plenty of alcohol, and I have every intention of inviting your cook as well."
Zoro's ears had pinked a little. "He's not my cook."
Robin smiled knowingly. "Regardless, I hope you'll make it. I'm giving you plenty of notice."
Zoro lost his chance to turn her down. It wasn't like Robin to throw a casual party. She seemed like a private, business-oriented person. The parties she threw were never about her pleasure; they were about keeping her guests happy, and getting them to sell whatever product or information it was that Robin was looking for. A casual party just for fun seemed out of character for her, and that made Zoro curious as to what she was planning.
Finally, finally, his Tuesday had come. He had originally been scheduled to work that day (another tick in the list of things that had gone wrong that week) but after much begging and bargaining, he'd gotten Johnny to agree to cover his shift. He wanted the day totally free to carry out his plans with Sanji.
He hadn't planned anything special. It was hard to make any special plans on a limited budget and a limited time frame. He only had one day with Sanji, and while it might have been nice to get out of the city and visit the countryside, it was the middle of winter and that kind of trip would take too much driving. So Zoro had to work with what he had, although admittedly he didn't have much. He reserved them a table at a restaurant downtown that Sanji was always talking about. It wasn't a super fancy place, but the food was supposed to be really good and their business was doing well, much to their competition's annoyance. Sanji had brought it up in conversation more than a few times and even taken pictures of it to send to Zoro with an unhappy expression. Zoro knew there was no way Sanji would enjoy the food there, but maybe he'd like to try it out?
After that Zoro thought they would stop by a bar. Not exactly a high class date, but Sanji liked to unwind with a drink and Zoro never said no to alcohol. He hoped the casual atmosphere might make both of them feel a little more comfortable and give them a chance to talk (Zoro was counting on a lot of food related conversation). Besides, they had met in a bar, so it couldn't be so bad a decision.
And then after the bar… Well he'd work out the exact details later, but he owed Sanji a taste of the dreams he'd been having. It wasn't just the one. A whole week of anticipation had set Zoro's subconscious into chaos, and his dreams had been increasingly more vivid, more adventurous, and yet never quite enough. He woke up swearing he could taste Sanji on his lips, and yet his body still screamed for a touch he hadn't been given. His own hand wasn't good enough to put his mind at ease. He really wanted Sanji.
There was another problem now, however. It was already noon, but he hadn't heard from Sanji yet that day. Usually, Sanji was up at the crack of dawn and had already sent Zoro several morning time picture messages. Even on his days off, Sanji was an early riser. His idea of "sleeping in" was getting up at some inhuman hour just after sunrise and messaging Zoro about his day then. Noon was much too late in the day for Sanji not to have sent a message, and that worried Zoro. But maybe he was worrying too much, maybe Sanji was just distracted that morning or maybe he hadn't messaged Zoro because he would see him later that day in person. It was probably nothing to worry about, Zoro assured himself.
For now he took a picture. He would never get used to taking pictures of himself, he knew. His face always seemed too awkward, the positions too strange, it seemed like an uncomfortably vain practice that Zoro had never had time for before. If Sanji ever declared their picture game to be over with, Zoro would probably never take a picture of himself again. He would leave that up to someone like Sanji or Nami who were much more comfortable in front of, or behind, a camera.
But for now, the self-portrait was necessary. He held up three fingers into the frame and snapped the picture. Three o'clock seemed like a good meeting time. They're reservation wasn't until five but it never hurt to have plenty of time. He attached the picture to a message, along with a picture of Brook's record shop that Zoro had taken the day before. The meeting place. The record shop was not exactly central, Sanji would probably have to travel a little further than was ideal, but it was the only meeting place Zoro was guaranteed not to get lost on the way to, and therefore was the safest bet.
With those two pictures attached, he sent the message to Sanji. He hoped the message was clear and that Sanji wouldn't be confused. The weird, nervous part of his brain also worried that Sanji might have forgotten their plans, but he shook that feeling off. Sanji had been sending Zoro suggestive, borderline torturous messages for a while now. There was no doubt Sanji would be just as excited about this as Zoro was.
Sanji definitely wouldn't forget, Zoro just had to be patient and wait. And wait… And wait…
Sanji was having a very bad day. Sanji had been having a bad week, actually, but he wasn't going to open that can of worms because that was more stress than he felt like handling, and today was trumping the entire week already and it had just started.
Well, actually it had started at six o'clock that morning when Sanji had gotten a call about their oven breaking in the restaurant. That alone would have been enough to make today an awful day, considering it was supposed to be his day off. His first day off in six days, actually, and Sanji was really looking forward to the break. But the problem with running a business was that sometimes duty called, and a broken oven wasn't something Sanji could ignore.
So he forced himself out of bed and into work where he would spend the next few hours making calls to various repair shops. He sat with the budget books in front of him, trying to negotiate prices with the Neanderthal repairmen on the other end of the line. Every one of them wanted to charge some exorbitant price for a simple repair job. He was getting irritated and finally had it when the last guy called him a "piece of shit small business owner." Sanji slammed the phone book shut and smashed the office phone back on to the receiver.
Sanji would love to put off the oven repair until he could afford to pay more, but it was already hard enough to have to explain to customers why several of their dishes were currently unavailable. Customers never seemed to understand the process of cooking. In their minds, food magically appeared on plates in the back and were served to them immediately. They didn't stop to think that restaurants were really just fancier more industrialized versions of their own home kitchens, and that sometimes shit just happened. He'd had four walk outs already and really at this rate he'd lose more then he'd spend trying to repair the damn thing.
"Sanji." Carne stuck his head in the office door. "That guy is here again."
It took all of Sanji's willpower not to bash his face into his desk. That piece of shit bird man chose the wrong damn day to come in and torture Sanji all over again.
"What the hell does he want? Tell him I'm busy."
"He didn't ask for you today," Carne said. "He asked for a menu."
Sanji's heart sank. Of all days for that shitty birdbrain to actually want to eat the food, he had to pick the day when half the menu was out of the question. Sanji ran a hand through his hair, tugging it in his frustration and let out an irritated snarl. He had to try plan B.
"Keep him distracted," Sanji said. "Fry him or grill him any appetizers he wants, tell him it's on the house."
"What if he orders something from the oven?" Carne asked.
"Just buy me some time, okay?" Sanji half-pleaded.
Carne nodded and disappeared from view. Sanji could hear him shouting the game plan at the other cooks as he picked up the phone again. He dialed a number from memory and waited for someone to pick up.
"Franky?" Sanji said into the receiver. "I really need a favor."
"I don't really know much about ovens, bro," Franky confessed, scratching his head as he stared at the piece of equipment. "That's why I brought along my bro Usopp."
Usopp stared at Sanji for a minute, a funny look on his face. Well, his face was kind of funny in general, with that long nose and all. But he was looking at Sanji like he might know him, and now that Sanji thought about it, he felt like he might have known this guy as well.
"Aren't you…" Usopp hesitated, as if he the words he wanted to say were too foreign sounding to say clearly. "Zoro's boyfriend?"
"Yeah…" Sanji trailed off, the pieces of his memory falling together. "You're one of his friends. I saw you at his birthday party."
"Yeah!" Usopp smiled, happy to be remembered. "I was at Robin's party the last time too!"
"Yeah," Sanji said. "You were the story teller."
Some of Usopp's pride seemed to sink at that, but he gave a chuckle. "Yep, that's me."
"Usopp-bro is a part timer for me," Franky explained. "He's super good with his hands, and even better at figuring out how stuff works. Between the two of us, I'm sure we can get this thing working."
"I hope so," Sanji said. "My nuts are kind of on a chopping block right now, I need this thing running as soon as possible." He glanced over at Usopp. "No pressure."
Usopp swallowed nervously. "Yes sir."
Sanji nodded and turned to check on how Carne and the others were doing. He could have gone out to check on the bird man himself, but Sanji reasoned that it should have been his day off. If Doflamingo wasn't asking for him personally, Sanji wasn't obligated to go out and check on his well-being. Instead, Sanji slipped on his chef's coat and put his hat on. He wasn't going anywhere until the oven was fixed anyway, he might as well help out.
And in his office, his cell phone lay forgotten on the desk.
By two o'clock that afternoon, Zoro still hadn't heard from Sanji, and his concern was mounting. Sanji had never – never – gone a full day without messaging Zoro at least once. Had something happened to Sanji? Was he hurt? Sick? A death in the family? Had his cellphone broken? The situations in Zoro's mind spun from worrisome to frightening and back again, but all he could do was tap his fingers impatiently against the coffee table and wait for his phone to go off.
"Oh?" Nami opened the apartment door and spilled inside, weighed down by and armful of grocery bags, she set them aside and looked at Zoro more closely. "Is it date night?"
Zoro hadn't let Nami pick out his clothes for him this time. Mostly because he didn't want to go through fifty outfit changes again, and also because having to hear Nami drone on about his lack of fashion was annoying. He appreciated her help the last time, and he used the previous outfit to help him buy a new one. It didn't have the same flair that Nami's planned outfit had, but it was comfortable, and he felt fancier in it. Not as fancy as wearing the stuffy rented tux he sometimes had to wear to Robin's parties, but cooler, more confident, and fashionable.
And yes, he'd actually gone out and bought it. He used most of his holiday bonus to afford the new clothing, but if everything tonight went off without a hitch, the purchase would be more than worth it.
"Yeah," Zoro said. "How's it look?"
Nami tilted her head to the right as if doing so would give her a better perspective on the outfit.
"Hmm." She smiled. "Not too bad."
"Thanks." The word came out with a rush of breath. Zoro felt uneasy about everything at the moment. "I better get going then. I told Sanji I'd meet him at the record shop at three."
Nami looked at the watch on her wrist. "It's barely past two."
"Better early than late, right?" He asked, slipping on a pair of black leather loafers.
"You're right…" She seemed like she had more to say, but she stopped herself with a shake of her head. "Have a goodnight, Zoro." She practically sang the words, her eyebrows arching suggestively.
Zoro ignored her, closing the door behind him with a light click.
"Ah-hah!" Usopp declared triumphantly. He held a hunk of metal in his hands, frayed wires hanging out of the back of it like streamers. He surveyed the piece a little closer, tongue poking out from between thick lips.
"Yep," he said, nodding once. "You're igniter is fried."
"So…" Sanji trailed off. "What does that mean?"
"Well your igniter connects the controls to the starter and gets the flames going in your oven," Usopp explained.
"Usopp." Sanji cut off what might have been a long-winded explanation. "I don't give a shit about that, I mean how long is it gonna take to fix?"
"Oh." Usopp looked somewhat disappointed. "Well, I thought this might be the problem, so I brought another one with us. I left it in the truck though."
"Super! I'll grab it," Franky volunteered, spinning the keys to his work truck around his finger once before snatching them up and heading out the back door.
"And when you change this out, it will work?" Sanji asked.
"It should, unless I missed something, but you're control panel is sending the signal and there is nothing wrong with the gas output so—"
"Sanji," Carne interrupted. "He's complaining about the lack of dinner bread."
"It's lunch for fuck's sake," Sanji grumbled under his breath. "Did you offer him something else? Salad? Frites? Anything?"
"Yeah, but he keeps insisting he needs the bread, and he's starting to get a little weird about it."
"A little weird" was an understatement when it came to Doflamingo, but Sanji let it slide.
"Usopp," he said, his voice sharp.
Usopp startled, jumping and nearly dropping the broken igniter. "Y-yeah?"
"How long is this gonna take?"
Usopp considered it a moment. "After Franky brings me the part, maybe… twenty minutes to put it in?"
Sanji ran mental calculations in his mind. Twenty minutes to change the part, fifteen for the oven to reach cooking temperature, eight for the bread to cook. Almost forty-five minutes total, could he buy that much time? Sanji sighed, yeah, he could think of a few ways to stall the bird, but none of them he really liked.
"Carne," Sanji called his cook's attention. "Lend Usopp and Franky a hand, anything they need, you give it to them."
"Where are you going?" Carne asked, his tone slightly accusatory.
Sanji straightened and shrugged off his chef's coat. He tugged the sleeves of his suit jacket straight. "I'm going to go entertain our guest," he said, giving his collar one final tug before leaving the kitchen and heading out to the restaurant's dining room.
Zoro was freezing his nuts off. It was way past three. The last time he checked his phone (which truthfully happened every other minute or so), the time had read 4:15PM. Zoro had made their reservations for five. At this rate, they probably wouldn't make it. But there was still time, Sanji could still make it, if he got here soon.
But Zoro hadn't even so much as heard from Sanji yet. The blond had never responded to his messages, and he'd never messaged Zoro on his own either. Zoro was worried, sure, but at this rate, he was starting to get a little annoyed too. He sincerely hoped nothing had happened to Sanji, but it was hard to feel sympathetic when you had been standing outside in the middle of December for two hours. He'd gone inside a couple of times to chat with Johnny and warm his fingers up, but never for long. He was afraid if he waited around inside for too long that he would miss Sanji, so he spent a majority of the time hanging around outside, shoulders hunched against the bitter winter wind.
He checked his phone again. 4:18PM. No new messages.
Zoro was regretting his choice in clothing. His outfit might have been fashionable and all that, but the thin dress slacks didn't do shit to keep out the wind, and his shoes were hardly insulated. Zoro bounced on the balls of his feet a couple of time, hoping to coax circulation back into his numb toes, but to no avail.
He picked up his phone again and pressed the send button. It wasn't the first time he'd called Sanji, it was actually around the third time. The phone rang… and rang… and rang…
"You have reached the voice mailbox of—"
Zoro hung up. Still nothing. The phone was on, which Zoro took to be a good sign, but there was no one around to answer it. Maybe Sanji had forgotten it somewhere.
He started to wonder if he should go to Sanji's apartment and make sure everything was okay. Maybe Sanji had lost his phone somewhere and he hadn't gotten Zoro's messages at all. Maybe he was waiting for Zoro to figure that out and show up at his place. But Zoro didn't move from his spot. If that were the case, he would find out later. He didn't want to risk leaving, not yet, in case Sanji was on his way.
It was a gamble, either way. He either stayed here and waited while Sanji expected him to visit, or he left before Sanji arrived and missed the cook that way. Zoro wasn't sure which option was the right one to pick, but he knew he had to pick one or the other, he couldn't choose to both leave and stay. So he chose to stay, and hoped that if Sanji really was just at home, that he would forgive Zoro for not showing up sooner.
Zoro leaned his back against the frigid wall of the record shop, stuffing his hands into his pockets for warmth, and waited.
The knob turned, the oven clicked a few times, and then with a small whoosh sound, a flame sprang to life inside. The cooks cheered, and Usopp wiped a drop of sweat from his brow.
"No problem!" he declared with a smile.
Although, it actually had been a problem. It turned out Usopp only kind of knew what he was doing. Franky also only kind of knew what he was doing, and the two of them took their time figuring out what they were going to do with the new part Usopp had brought. Sanji had been on the verge of losing it on the both of them, and they were lucky he was so preoccupied by his "special guest."
He's had to keep Doflamingo distracted long enough for the oven to be repaired. Anyone else, and Sanji would have let them complain about the lack of bread until they were blue in the face, but Doflamingo was not just anyone.
There were two things Sanji knew about Doflamingo; the first was that the shitty bird wanted to buy the restaurant. He probably wanted to bulldoze it and pave a parking lot, or whatever it was movie villains usually did in this situation. The reason why he was so intent on buying it didn't matter. All Sanji knew and cared about, was that the bastard didn't know how to take no for an answer.
The second thing Sanji knew about Doflamingo, was that the bastard had some power. He wasn't just talk, Doflamingo could pull strings to make things happen. Sanji didn't know how many connections the man had, or how exactly how much power he commanded, but he knew it was enough to cause problems for Sanji if that was what Doflamingo wanted.
So Sanji had put on his best customer service smile and dealt with the bird directly. He mostly kept Doflamingo distracted with business talk. He asked to hear the offer Doflamingo had made again, pretended to negotiate it. Sanji had no intentions of ever giving up the place, the bird man would have to pry it from his dead fingers, but the discussion kept Doflamingo happy for a while, and that was all that Sanji needed.
With the oven working once more, the shitty flamingo could have all the food he wanted, and Sanji was free from having to deal with him. With a sigh of relief, Sanji shrugged off his suit jacket.
"Usopp, Franky," he called. "Come back to the office and I'll pay you guys."
"Ah, it's nothing Sanji," Franky said, waving him off. "Anything to help a friend."
Sanji appreciated Franky's kindness, but he wasn't going to let it fly. Franky was selfless to a T sometimes, and while Sanji admired that aspect of his roommate's personality, he also hated to see it used against the man.
"Shut it, Franky," Sanji said. "I called you guys here, you closed shop to come, I really appreciate it, and I want to pay you back."
Franky looked mildly uncomfortable, but didn't argue any further. He followed Sanji to the office, and Usopp tagged along quietly in tow.
Sanji pulled his key ring from his belt loop and opened the safe. It didn't hold much, just enough to refill the register should they need the extra change, plus some of the previous day's earnings. Every day, whoever was in charge of the restaurant for the day would take a trip to the bank to deposit a majority of the money earned. Usually that person was Sanji, although Patty or Carne usually took it on Sanji's days off. He pulled out some cash along with a transaction slip.
"I'm sorry it's not much," Sanji said, dividing the bills between Usopp and Franky. "You wouldn't believe what the professionals were charging. I'd be eating kitchen scraps for a month if I had to pay them."
He handed them each a small fold of bills. It wasn't as much as he would have paid a professional, and it was divided between the two of them, so it looked like even less. Nevertheless, Usopp's face lit up.
"Whoa!" Usopp smiled, counting the money out. "This is sweet. I'm going Christmas shopping."
"Super!" Franky beamed, sliding his share into his pocket. He winked at Sanji. "Thanks, bro."
"No, thank you, you totally saved my ass," Sanji said, slumping into the office chair. It had never felt so nice to sit. "So much for my day off."
"Yeah," Franky agreed. "Weren't you supposed to meet up with Zoro today?"
Sanji immediately felt his heart drop into his stomach and then beyond. It was Tuesday! He and Zoro had promised to spend time together today!
He dove for his phone, grabbing it up from the desk in such a hurry it fumbled in his hands and he nearly dropped it.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," he chanted with increasing urgency. His usually stable hands were a jumbled mess, trying to work faster than his brain could keep up with.
He had a couple missed messages and several missed calls. With guilt sitting like a rock in his stomach, he unlocked the phone and checked his picture messages first. One of the record shop, and one of Zoro holding up three fingers. Meet at the record shop at three, Sanji thought. He glanced up to the top of his phone. It was already 4:45PM. The weight of the guilt doubled.
He listened to his missed voicemail next. There was only one, though Zoro had called three times.
"Hey, it's me." A pause. "Uh, it's about three fourty. I didn't know if you got my messages or not…" Another pause. "I hope everything is okay." Zoro hung up after that.
Sanji felt sick. He felt horrible, rotten, and sick. He'd completely forgotten about Zoro and their plans for the day. He'd gotten so caught up with the oven being broken and Doflamingo that he'd completely let Zoro slip from his mind. He was a horrible, awful, shitty—
"Uh, Sanji?"
Sanji jerked his head up. Franky and Usopp were still in the office, hovering near the doorway and watching him with concerned expressions.
"Sorry, what?" Sanji asked.
"Zoro is probably still waiting for you," Usopp said. "I mean, if you wanted to hang out with him still."
"We were supposed to meet at three," Sanji said, the sickening feeling of self-loathing stirring in his gut.
"Well, he's probably still waiting." Usopp shrugged. "He acts all cool and tough, but he's a pretty loyal friend. If anything, he probably thinks something bad happened, but he'll wait to be sure…" Usopp trailed off. "Uh, sorry."
Sanji stood immediately. He had his suit jacket on and his phone in his pocket in one smooth movement. Usopp and Franky hastily scrambled out of his way as Sanji walked purposefully out of the office.
"Carne!" Sanji called. "You're in charge, I gotta go." He was already to the door. "Usopp, Franky! Thanks again!"
"No problem, bro!" Franky said. "Hey, I'll probably stay at Robin's tonight so you have a super time!"
Sanji waved to acknowledge that he'd head, and then he was out the door and making for the record shop at a light jog.
Fortunately, the restaurant was even closer to Humming Brook's Records than his apartment was. If he'd already gotten home before he got the messages, it would have taken him twice as long to get back there. As it was, he continued a hurried walk that broke into a jog from time to time. His shoes were rotten for running, but he didn't give a shit about that right now. He was in a hurry, and he could have been barefoot and it wouldn't have stopped him.
The record shop came into view, and just as Usopp had predicted, there was a figure with moss-colored hair crouched down and leaning against the outside wall. Zoro's nose and ears were red from the stinging cold, and Sanji felt his heart sink again. Zoro really had waited for him. It was both flattering and heartbreaking.
Sanji didn't slow his pace until he was in front of the shop. Zoro looked up at his approaching figure, the usual scowl painted on his face until he saw who it was. When Zoro saw Sanji, he smiled. The bastard who had waited out in the freezing cold all this time smiled.
"You're okay," Zoro said, the words coming out almost breathless sounding. He was relieved, Sanji realized.
"You fucking idiot," Sanji swore, glaring down at the moss-headed moron. "You look half frozen! Why the hell didn't you at least go inside?"
He was angry, but not at Zoro. He was angry at himself. There was no good excuse for forgetting. Maybe he needed to be at the restaurant, but he could have at least taken a second to tell Zoro that. Instead, he'd left the poor guy to freeze. Sanji was a shitty human being. He was so pissed off and frustrated, and he had no one to blame but himself.
"I thought if I went inside I would miss you," Zoro shrugged.
"I'm not a fucking idiot like you, I would have looked inside," Sanji snapped.
"Would you quit calling me an idiot?" Zoro frowned. "Are you okay?"
Sanji wanted to scream at Zoro, kick him in the stomach with all the force he could muster, and leave him half dead on the ground. Care about yourself a little more, hementally screamed. But it wasn't Zoro's fault. The only thing Zoro was guilty of was being stupidly selfless and Sanji couldn't punish him for that.
Sanji exhaled, one long whoosh of air. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said, as calmly as possible. "There was an emergency at the restaurant, and I got completely sidetracked."
"An emergency?" Zoro asked, frowning. "Is it okay?"
"Yeah. It's fine." Sanji's answer was short, impatience creeping into his voice.
"Oh, good," Zoro said. There was that hint of relief in his tone. It made Sanji hate himself just a little more.
They were silent for a moment. Zoro shuffled his feet. Sanji thought he looked a little uncertain, but maybe he was just cold.
"We should get you warmed up," Sanji said, tugging Zoro's hand out of his pocket. Sure enough, the idiot wasn't wearing gloves and his fingers were an alarming shade of reddish-purple. Looking closer, Sanji noticed Zoro's clothes were all poorly suited to the weather. He was dressed nicely, but the nice clothes didn't hold up well against the wind. "What did you have planned for us?"
"Well I reserved us a table at that one restaurant you're always bad mouthing, buuuut," Zoro dragged the last word out while he glanced at the time on his phone. "We missed it."
"Why the hell would I want to eat there anyway?" Sanji frowned.
"So you could taste first hand just how shitty the food is." Zoro smirked.
Sanji couldn't help but chuckle. Zoro knew him well, which was nice because Sanji had ruined dates by complaining about the food in places. And yet Zoro had reserved a table just so Sanji could do exactly that. It was… thoughtful. Sanji was even more sorry he had been late.
"Well, what did you have planned after?" he asked.
"A bar." Zoro shrugged.
"A bar," Sanji repeated, his voice flat.
"We met in a bar," Zoro reminded him, as if Sanji would have forgotten. "And I thought it would just be a nice way to relax and talk."
Sanji stared at Zoro, considering the marimo's explanation. Zoro was either the worst date planner in the world, or the best. Sanji wasn't sure which.
"A drink doesn't sound bad right about now," Sanji said, speaking slowly as he thought about it. "But instead of going to a bar, how about you come back to my place? I have plenty of booze even for someone like you, and my apartment is warmer than a bar." He glanced back down at Zoro's frozen hands again. "What do you say?"
"Sounds great," Zoro shrugged. "As long as we go soon. I'm fucking freezing."
Sanji snorted. "Idiot."
The feeling crept slowly back into Zoro's fingers and toes. They almost hurt worse now than they did when they were cold. The heat brought a searing ache to his frozen extremities. He gripped the small cup of hot sake a little tighter. It might have hurt, but the heat was a relief too.
"Here," Sanji said, setting a plate down on the coffee table in front of Zoro. "Homemade apple pie," he said. "Bon appetit."
Steam rose from the plate and Zoro's mouth watered. His stomach gave off a traitorous gurgle. It had been a while since he'd eaten. He set the sake cup down, a little reluctantly, and picked up the plate instead. He took a bite. If they served food in heaven, this is probably what it tasted like.
Sanji leaned against the kitchen counter, smoking a cigarette and watching Zoro through one sparkling blue eye. He looked satisfied with Zoro's reaction.
He hadn't sat down since they'd gotten back to his apartment. From the moment they walked in the door, Sanji had been a constant flurry of motion, and all of it centering around Zoro. It didn't take a genius to figure out this was Sanji's way of trying to make amends, but Zoro was waiting for the right moment to throw a wrench into Sanji's gears. Now seemed like a good moment. Sanji had just served him food and liquor and was taking a small break.
"Why are you way over there?" Zoro asked.
Sanji seemed to consider him a moment while he took one last drag of his cigarette. He crushed the butt into the ashtray on the counter and moved forward, joining Zoro on the couch.
"How's the pie?" Sanji asked the moment he was seated.
"It's amazing," Zoro said. "I don't think I've ever had pie this good."
"Good." Sanji nodded, and then they lapsed into silence.
Zoro took another bite of the pie. Sanji had some very strict ideals when it came to food, and leaving a plate of pie uneaten in favor of trying to jar the blond out of his bad mood would be a violation of those ideals. Pie first, improving Sanji's mood after.
Sanji didn't say anything while Zoro ate. On the outside, nothing really seemed amiss. Sanji was sitting comfortably, reclined against the back of the couch. He wasn't looking in Zoro's direction, and the expression on his face looked almost bored. Sanji was a very good actor, but Zoro was even better at reading people. He could see the way Sanji's eyes would flick towards him, almost imperceptibly quick glances at Zoro's hands or his ears. They were still reddened from the cold, even though they were warm again. He noticed the way Sanji's fingers fidgeted with his lighter. The movements were almost mindless, automatic, but they were too quick and too jerky to be entirely without thought. Sanji's foot tapped softly but rapidly against the floor, and his knee bounced with the rhythm.
Sanji looked cool as ice on the surface, but Zoro knew he was thinking harder than he should have been.
Zoro scraped the last of the pie filling off the plate with his finger. Sanji watched out of the corner of his eye, and the moment Zoro set the plate down on the table, Sanji was springing into action once again. He sat up, too quickly, and reached for the plate.
Zoro caught his wrist first.
"Enough," Zoro said firmly.
Sanji tried to yank his arm out of Zoro's grasp, but Zoro held him fast.
"What the hell, asshole?!" Sanji snapped, his temper flaring. "Let me go!"
Zoro ignored him. "Do you feel my hand?" he asked.
"What kind of stupid fucking question is that?" Sanji asked. His face was reddening and fire was burning in his visible blue eye. Zoro watched his legs twitch, but the way his body was positioned made it difficult even for someone as flexible as Sanji to get a good kick in.
Sanji didn't like the interference, Zoro knew that. Sanji liked to pretend he was mysterious and cool at all times, which was fine when his "cool" and "mysterious" behavior wasn't masking an overbearing concern for Zoro's wellbeing.
"Do you feel it?" Zoro asked again.
"It's hard not to when you're cutting off the circulation to my hand," Sanji bit out.
"Then you'll notice my hand isn't cold," Zoro said.
For just a moment, Sanji stopped trying to pull his arm free. "What?" he asked in disbelief.
Zoro moved quickly, too fast for Sanji to react. In a flash, he had one hand pressed against the side of Sanji's neck. His touch was not aggressive or hostile; his movement was fast but gentle. Sanji still flinched.
"My hands aren't cold," Zoro repeated, his fingers gently teasing the hair at the base of Sanji's skull. He freed Sanji's wrist, and leaned closer. "So you can stop trying to make up for it."
"Bastard." Sanji spoke through gritted teeth.
Zoro chuckled before he leaned in to kiss him. He expected Sanji to resist. He was playing with fire when it came to the blond, but how those flames would be put to use, he couldn't say for sure. While he could read Sanji's true intentions like an open book sometimes, there were other times – times like this – that Zoro had no idea what to expect.
It was a pleasant surprise when Sanji kissed back. He had apparently decided to throw those flames into passion, and his hands gripped tightly at Zoro's back as he pressed himself closer, kissed Zoro deeper. Zoro groaned appreciatively. This was the outcome he had hoped for, though not the one he expected.
He tried to match Sanji's passion, tried to throw his own intentions and desires into the mix, but he was nearly overthrown. Sanji kissed, sucked, and bit at Zoro's lips, jaw, and throat, constantly moving and never ceasing in his assault. Zoro tried to return the favor, but Sanji wouldn't have it. Zoro had stopped the flurry of emotion that had spurned from Sanji's guilt and concern; Sanji wouldn't let him stop him a second time.
Sanji's lips moved down from Zoro's lips again, finding a place below Zoro's jaw to suck, his hot tongue flirting playfully with Zoro's skin. Zoro groaned, a sound he hadn't meant to make, but Sanji managed to pull it from him through sheer will power.
He let Sanji take his shirt off, only because if it had been up to Zoro he would have torn through it rather than bother with the buttons. It would have been a terrible waste of money. He was grateful for Sanji's quick fingers; they did away with the buttons in record speed. Sanji half pushed and half yanked the shirt from Zoro's shoulders, and didn't even wait until it had touched the ground to begin exploring the newly revealed skin.
Sanji was leaning back against the armrest of the couch, with Zoro straddling his lap. If he wanted to, in this position, Zoro could take over; make the blond beg for mercy and release. He might, later. For now, he was content to let Sanji run the show. The fiery cook needed an outlet, and Zoro had no complaints. He pressed his hips down, making sure Sanji felt just how much Zoro appreciated the attention.
Sanji in real life was different from the Sanji in Zoro's dreams. In those vivid, tormenting dreams, Sanji always knew exactly where to touch, exactly how much to give and take, exactly how to wind Zoro up until he couldn't take anymore. Sanji in real life wasn't privy to that knowledge. Sanji in real life was sloppy, trial and error. He bit Zoro's left nipple, earning a pained hiss, and then he flicked it with his tongue, earning a satisfied sigh.
Real life Sanji was hotter than dream Sanji.
Sanji's hands were less sure as he tugged at Zoro's belt. He was getting hasty, sloppy, and needy, and it made his hands fumble uselessly before he managed to undo the buckle. His lips never stopped exploring Zoro's body, tasting and teasing every inch of skin that he could reach.
Zoro grunted when he felt the first touches of Sanji's fingers on his cock. They pawed at him through his boxers before ripping away at the fabric and wrapping firmly around his length. Sanji gave a squeeze and then a single experimental pump of his hand. He pulled back, his lips detaching from Zoro's throat long enough to gauge Zoro's reaction. He smirked. It was the infuriating smirk he wore when he thought he was outdoing Zoro. That competitive, smug, shit-eating grin.
Zoro had had just about enough of Sanji's attitude.
He leaned forward, attacking Sanji's lips with aggressive, hungry kisses. Sanji grunted in surprise, but returned the favor, kissing Zoro back with equal hunger. His hand worked Zoro's cock in slow, deliberate strokes. It fueled Zoro's desire but wasn't enough to get him off, not yet. His hips thrust up into Sanji's hand, wanting for more.
Zoro's lips attached to Sanji's throat, and he wasn't gentle. He nibbled the skin experimentally before sinking his teeth it. Sanji groaned and threw his head back, giving Zoro more room to work with. Zoro smirked as he kissed the reddened teeth mark. Apparently the cook liked a little pain with his pleasure, Zoro could oblige.
Zoro placed gentle, almost teasing kisses along the column of Sanji's throat. First one, then another, and then another, until he found another place to sink his teeth into. The sound Sanji made was almost feral, and his whole body jerked beneath Zoro. Zoro soothed the spot with his tongue, and began working on the top buttons of Sanji's shirt. He tossed the tie aside, and steadily popped one button after another from their holes. He had no patience with his own shirt, but the way the blond's chest heaved with every shaky breath gave Zoro plenty of reason to slowly remove Sanji's.
Zoro explored every inch of skin as he exposed it. His tongue and teeth playing with the pale soft skin of Sanji's collarbones, shoulders, chest. Sanji was making the most delicious noises. Soft sighs and rattling breaths, keening moans and angry growls. Each one shot a thrill of pleasure through Zoro's core.
Sanji's hand tightened around Zoro's cock, as if to remind him that Sanji had control here. It was true, the blond's hand had gone from gentle teasing to full out pleasing Zoro, but that didn't sway Zoro in the slightest. Two could play at that game.
He reached down, his hand knocking against Sanji's as he palmed the blond through his pants. Sanji gasped, his back arching, as Zoro traced the shape of his cock through his slacks. Zoro chuckled, but his gloating was cut short when Sanji's thumb teased the head of his cock, and fell into a steady rhythm along the underside of it.
Fuck, this would be over too soon.
"Wait," Zoro said. His voice was hoarse. It came out almost as a croak, and he cleared his throat to try again. "Wait."
He stopped Sanji's hand with his own. The blond stopped his movements, but didn't release him. He watched Zoro, his eyes glazed with pleasure but also glinting with challenge. Can't handle it? But Zoro wasn't going to rise to that challenge. Not yet. He might lose.
Zoro licked his lips and swallowed. Sanji should not have been allowed to get to him this much. It was difficult to see straight, difficult to remember what he was thinking, why he made Sanji stop. His body was revolting against his mind, he wanted release, he wanted Sanji, why did he stop?
"Something wrong, marimo?" Sanji asked. That smug smile again. But Sanji was covered in red marks, breathing heavily, and his voice was strained. He wasn't fairing any better than Zoro, he just put on a better act. Zoro couldn't have that.
Zoro leaned forward until his lips brushed against the shell of Sanji's ear.
"I don't want you to finish me off with a hand job, Sanji," he said quietly. He could feel a shudder pass through Sanji's body. "I want to fuck you until you're begging for release," he went on. "I want to fuck you hard; I want to make you come absolutely undone."
Sanji swallowed and shoved at Zoro, hard, and with both hands. Zoro complied, leaning away, giving the blond some space. He waited with some trepidation to hear what Sanji would say.
"Then what the fuck are you waiting for?" Sanji growled low.
Zoro smiled and climbed off Sanji's lap. If he was going to fuck the blond senseless, he wanted to do it on a bed.
He let Sanji lead the way. Sanji had finished removing his shirt when he stood, and Zoro enjoyed the way Sanji's pants slipped lower and lower on his hips as he walked.
The moment the bedroom door was closed behind them, Sanji rounded on Zoro again, pressing his lips against Zoro's while his hands mapped out more of the moss head's body.
"A quick question," Sanji asked. His fingers were teasing along the waistband of Zoro's pants, and it made it hard to think.
"Hm?" Zoro replied.
"How did you get this scar?" Sanji asked. One of his hands moved from Zoro's waistband to play with the raised tissue of Zoro's scar, a mark that sliced through him from shoulder to hip.
"A dueling accident," Zoro said. "I can tell you about it sometime."
"Yeah," Sanji smiled, kissing Zoro again. "Later."
Their movements picked up from there. First went Zoro's pants, already half-undone, and then Sanji's. They moved toward the bed, Sanji pausing only a moment to fish a bottle of lube and some condoms out of his bedside drawer. He tossed them onto one side of the bed, ready and waiting to be used.
Zoro pushed Sanji back against the bed, and crawled on top of him. Sanji was panting again, his chest rising and falling in and irregular pattern while Zoro kissed his way down his body. He paused to bite at one of Sanji's nipples (something Sanji did enjoy) and to nibble at the skin just below his navel. Sanji groaned, rolling his hips just slightly as Zoro moved closer and closer to his cock.
Zoro opened the bottle of lube while he bit lightly at Sanji's inner thigh.
"I… hate you," Sanji growled.
Zoro chuckled, but that was enough teasing. He licked up Sanji's length just once before taking him into his mouth. Sanji's fists balled into the sheets above his head, and groaned appreciatively. His hips jerked, and Zoro could tell it was taking every ounce of Sanji's willpower not to thrust deeper into Zoro's throat. Zoro rewarded him with a roll of his tongue as he dragged his head back, and by taking Sanji even deeper as he moved back down again.
While his mouth worked Sanji's cock, his fingers teased at Sanji's entrance. The blond spread his legs wider, encouraging more, and Zoro took the opportunity to slowly press one finger in.
"Oh, fuck." Sanji's voice was strained, broken, delicious. Zoro worked him with his mouth, swallowing around Sanji's cock while he worked his finger inside Sanji. When one finger seemed okay, he added another, and then another.
"Zoro," Sanji panted, breathless.
Zoro curled his fingers, just slightly, dragging them out until…
Sanji's body went rigid and a shout that sounded almost pained ripped from his mouth. When Sanji recovered, his breathing came in desperate gasps. Zoro released Sanji's cock with a wet pop and looked up. Sanji's face was red, his back was arching, and his muscles were trembling from the force of his control. Perfect. Sanji was perfect.
Zoro pulled his fingers out of Sanji's body and reached for one of the condoms. Sanji made a disappointed sound, and opened his eyes. He looked ready to reprimand Zoro for stopping, but the words died in his throat when he caught sight of what Zoro was doing.
Zoro rolled the condom on and worked lube over the length of his cock. He might have jerked himself a few more times than was necessary, he'd been desperate for any kind of touch they whole time he'd been seeing to Sanji's needs, but he stopped at that.
"Turn over," he said to Sanji.
Sanji hastened to comply, rolling over onto his stomach and pushing his hips into the air. It was the most compliant Zoro had ever seen Sanji, but he didn't have to ask why. He wanted to get off as bad as Sanji did; there was no more time to waste.
He ran one hand over Sanji's sweat slicked back as he slipped inside. Both he and Sanji groaned with pleasure, satisfaction finally finding them both. Sanji pressed back against him, forcing Zoro deeper and deeper, until he was fully sheathed inside. Then Zoro waited.
"God dammit, Zoro!" Sanji shouted.
That was what Zoro was waiting for. He drew out, and rocked back into the blond with enough force to jar the other man's hips.
Sanji cried out, a low sound comprised of surprise and pleasure. Zoro didn't relent. He wanted more sounds like that; he wanted to be the one to pull them from Sanji.
Sanji braced himself on his elbows as Zoro pounded into him, but with every thrust he lost more and most traction against the sheets. He couldn't be bothered to hold himself up anymore, and collapsed into the bed.
"Oh, shit," Sanji swore. "Fuck. You fucking – ah! Shit."
"Something wrong?" Zoro asked.
He bent over Sanji's back, his stomach pressing against the curve of Sanji's spine. One hand curled along the front of Sanji's body, dragging along sweaty skin until it bumped into Sanji's cock. He took Sanji in hand, and pumped his cock in time with his thrusts, hard and sharp thrusts that picked up their pace. Sanji shouted. His other hand slid up Sanji's back, reaching the back of Sanji's neck and pushing him down, forcing the blond further into the mattress.
"Damn you're hot," Zoro swore. "I could fuck you all day long."
He slowed his hips, just slightly, his thrusts shorter, less forceful. It was a lie, of course. He could feel the telltale tightening in his balls. He was going to lose it soon.
"Zoro," Sanji groaned. His teeth were gritted and the look in his eye was absolute rage as he turned his face to glare back at Zoro.
"Yes?" Zoro asked, slowing some more. Sanji was so tight fucking hot.
"Fucking move, you bastard," Sanji ground out. "Or I'll… I'll…"
Zoro didn't let him finish that threat. He thrust into Sanji, hard, and began fucking him properly. Harder, faster than before. Sanji moaned, his eyes practically crossing as Zoro bore down on him, jerking him off with one hand, fucking him senseless from behind.
Sanji came, clawing at the bed and shouting obscenities into the mattress. His hips jerked between Zoro's hand and Zoro's cock inside of him. That was all Zoro had been waiting for. As Sanji's came down from his orgasm, Zoro tipped over the edge of his, burying his cock as deep into Sanji as he could.
He pulled out and rolled off Sanji, collapsing onto the bed next to the blond. Sanji was breathing hard, as if he'd just run a marathon.
"Fuck," Sanji said quietly. "That was amazing."
Zoro smiled. It was amazing. It was better than his dreams, a hundred – no – a thousand times better than his dreams. His body was still tingling from the effects of his orgasm, though his heart rate was settling back to normal.
Sanji rolled onto his side, facing Zoro. "I'll get you back for this," he promised.
"Get me back for what?" Zoro raised an eyebrow. "Making you come?"
Sanji laughed. "Next time, I'm going to make you lose your mind."
Zoro sincerely hoped he kept that promise.
A/N: Sorry for my brief absence! The holidays always get me, and updates are harder to put out. Hopefully this super long chapter makes up for it!