To my Semi Solid fans: I have edited and modified the current chapters. Consider rereading the first five chapters of the story before I update the story (which should be soon).

To everyone else: enjoy!

10am

By the time Sanji and Zoro left the hospital it was six in the morning. The pain medication given to Zoro left him unable to drive, and with what little sense he had left Zoro had to give Sanji directions to his campuses dorms. Sanji would have driven both of them back to his place, but without keys or a phone Sanji was forced to bear with the consequences of having his life saved again until he could somehow reach Usopp. Until then Sanji would be forced to deal with the painful awkwardness of a sexually frustrated man whose selfishness might possibly equal his own. The thought of being trapped with Zoro for the next few hours made him feel nauseous. What the hell was he supposed to say to him now? What the hell was anyone supposed to say to the person who pulled them away from death? "Thank you for saving my life?" Why?

Somehow the two managed to make their way into the dorm halls, Zoro finally picking the right door and unlocking it. By now it was almost seven and Sanji was beginning to feel the weight of several hours in the middle of a snowstorm hit him. Stuck inside a small dorm room Sanji could feel heat gluing itself against his cold skin. The smell produced by two men who hardly had the time to clean up overwhelmed his already exhausted sense. The sight of the unkept bed was almost unwelcoming.

"Dude, what happened to your hand?"

Sanji turned and saw another walk into the small room, though through another door. He was only half dressed, but didn't seem uncomfortable at the presence of someone he had never seen before.

"Don worry about it," Zoro answered sluggishly. "Hey, can I speel on your bed?"

"Holy shit, you sound terrible," the strange man said. He peered over and stared at Sanji, his brows raised and face full of worry. "What happened to him?"

"H-he fell," Sanji said. "Broke his middle finger…crushed his pinky." He could see that his answer wasn't completely satisfying to the man. Sanji quickly added to the lie, "we were up all night. Got lost…lousy direction, you know. He got out, slipped, and we ended up spending the night at the hospital."

"Lost huh?" The man said, "yeah that's Zoro for you."

Sanji forced a smile on his face, even went as far and giving a playful shrug to ease any further suspicion Zoro's dormmate might have.

"Shit, Mihawk isn't going to like this," the man muttered. "Yeah, you can sleep on the bed. Don't speel on it though while I'm gone." He laughed nervously and continued to dress himself. "There are some extra sheet underneath the pile of clothes over there, if you're too cold."

"Uhm…thanks," Sanji muttered.

Zoro sat himself on his roommate's bed, his head up and face filled with concern; he looked Sanji in the eye, silently offering his bed to him. Sanji wasn't sure what to do with himself, even with Zoro making it clear what he ought to do, his instincts told him to remain standing. Don't fall asleep, especially in a strange bed. What sort of ugly things would his mind try to recreate after a long night like this? He failed once again to do what he had been planning for so long, his subconscious was sure to punish him with something worse. Sanji looked down and squint his eyes, trying to keep them moist, and also to avoid contact with Zoro.

"Should I tell Mihawk while I'm up there?" he heard the roommate say.

Zoro shook his head. "I'll tell him…later."

Sanji blinked when the door closed behind him. He waited a few second and let his entire body go numb. He wasn't tired.

"Sanji, go to bed," Zoro said.

"I'm not tired," Sanji replied.

Zoro blinked several times, rubbing his eyes with his good hand.

"Do this for me," he said in a half demand, half yawn.

"You want so much, marimo," Sanji muttered. He looked down at his hands before turning around and staring at the bed. Never had the thought of sleep felt so unusual. It wasn't the same feeling of dread as before: something else was telling him to stay away. Sanji took small steps forward, his body growing stiff once his legs made contact with the bed. His toes curled inside his shoes, his fingers painfully outstretched. No desire to go to bed, especially today.

He could hear Zoro groan behind him. What could he do other than wait for the pain medication to once again take its hold over Zoro? How long would it be till he could focus on something else other than the bridge and the bed? He traded one disaster for another, but he had no control in the dreams he made. He was losing control every time he closed his eyes. And he was afraid.

"I told you I'll fight back," he heard Zoro said.

"Can you really do that in your current state?" Sanji asked. He could hear the excitement in his voice, the same curiosity from before. He felt a scowl appear on his face when he realized what sort of game he was playing with himself and the moss-head.

"I still have eight fingers," Zoro said. His voice sounded like it was about to give way to sleep. Zoro wouldn't last another five minutes. But it was his words that irked Sanji the most. He looked at Zoro's left hand, still a bit swollen from being broken, and then up at Zoro's medicated expression. He remembered what Zoro's dorm-mate had said, and what Zoro had mentioned earlier on about his other class. Now he wouldn't pass another class. Sanji bit his inner cheek, giving another quick look around the room and spotting the swords leaning against a wall covered in pictures. Zoro certainly couldn't practice with broken fingers, could he? The burden of nightmares seemed insignificant to the reality Zoro would have to face.

"Whatever," Sanji muttered, looking away from the man. He sat on the mattress and stared lazily at the floor. He looked at his shoes. Maybe, he thought, he could somehow pull this off. He hadn't dies in his sleep for a while. No, he'd still had bad dreams, but maybe they wouldn't be this bad tonight. Sanji lowered his arms and reluctantly began to remove them from his feet. Warm air permeated through his socks, tickling his cold feet. He welcomed the odd sensation and, without making any eye contact with Zoro, grabbed the bed sheet and covered himself.

He curled his legs into his chest and buried his face into the nook, his arms holding everything together. He closed his eyes and silently begged for Zoro to not say another word and simply fall asleep. Maybe if he were lucky Zoro would pass out before he did. He might not even have to fall asleep. Through the blanket Sanji could hear Zoro move. He didn't hear him say a thing, and though the soft noises Sanji could guess that Zoro had quit trying to fight him. But even after Sanji was sure that Zoro had fallen asleep Sanji kept wrapped up tight, making sure he was as uncomfortable as possible. He could feel his muscle grow soft in the warm cocoon he had created. His fingers and toes tingled and his he could feel himself growing calmer, his heart betraying his mind and slowing down.

Think of something, he told himself.

His mind brought him back to the bridge. He was lying against the railing, tired and cold. His whole body ached from walking all the way down to the bridge in the frightening weather, from the natural instinct to run, and then having to fight Zoro. God, Zoro. Sanji could hear those words echoing in his mind much like nails against a chalkboard. Why did he have to cry out those words? He could remember Nami looking up at him, her brown eyes dry, but face filled with hurt. She had the dignity to not play those words against him, or any other woman he had slept with while he cheated on her.

But what about him? Sanji could feel a sickness crept up on him, the heat in his makeshift tent growing sticky and uncomfortable. He could no longer repress the memories of men, not after Zoro had ripped open the doors to the awful memories.

And it had suddenly dawned upon Sanji that Zoro was the only one to use the words love against him. No one he had been with had ever used them in such a matter, a matter consisting of raw emotion and truth.

He wanted nothing more than to believe that Zoro was feeling lust. He could handle lust, but love was a frightening concept that made his body quake with repulsion. He could remember using the word hundreds of times in the past, each time the word becoming more of a memory of it's actual definition. A teenage boy who couldn't understand the consequences of such a word, and then plagued with the depression and disturbing thoughts of death: he never stood a chance of ever grasping the word's truth. By the time he broke up with Nami he knew nothing but confusion. He thought Nami didn't love him because she couldn't make him feel happy anymore, and cheating on her was a means of hoping to find that fulfillment that had been lost once his mind began to suddenly deteriorate. He could remember the fond memories the two of them share, and was now sure that it could have, might have been love…but now Nami was too bright, and he couldn't bear to place any sort of emotional harm on her again.

But Zoro, why did he love him? What was that like? How did he come to that sort of conclusion? Sanji blinked and then remembered whose bed he was in.

Did he…? Sanji felt his face burn hot, a large frown melting on his sweating face. The hot air was beginning to taste like old, but Sanji decided to wait a few more minutes before checking to see if he safe to get up.

Law knew right away what sort of estranged relationship they had. Obviously he didn't respect it, since Luffy somehow knew about it in the first place (he would have to figure out how much Luffy knew some point in the future), but thankfully it never really came to the point where he could have said Law might have loved him. And…it hurt him. Sanji could feel it now. He had wondered how Nami felt when he had abandoned her, but could never imagine he would one day experience that same pain, but on a much higher level. No woman could fill that growing pit inside of him, but Law knew right away that he was falling apart and was able to work around it. He filled him both figuratively and literally, and Sanji both enjoyed and hated it. It had taken so long to push all those memories away from him, to re-declare himself as straight and pretend several months weren't spent with him on all fours like some sort of animal. There was a gap in his story. He didn't cheat on Nami, didn't contemplate suicide, didn't sleep with Law, didn't start to feel better about some dreams, didn't crash and burn, didn't tell anyone about it. He changed his story to becoming depressed and then suddenly becoming extremely suicidal. So quick and easy and to the point. No diagnosis needed: Law already did that years ago. Some sort of psychosis. "A major depressive disorder. If you don't do yourself in I can certainly see you ending up catatonic in some white room." Right after sex. Good ol' fucking Law.

Sanji felt all too warm now and pushed his arm out of his blanket fortress. He fresh air in and listened to see if Zoro was indeed asleep. He waited a few moments before coming to the conclusion that it was safe for him to get out of bed. He peeled off the cover, welcoming the cooler, fresh tasting air outside. However, rather than staring at a sleeping Zoro, instead Sanji was faced with his messy shelf and pale walls. The window that hovered above the bed he had rested in moments ago had moved to his right, and the two cheap wooden doors had been reduced to just one white one. The floor was clean from a weekly vacuuming, the clothes tossed into the hamper, and the walls clear of any scattered photography. It was his room.

"Fuck!" Sanji screamed. His smacked his hand against the nearest wall, letting the sting travel up his arm and stab its way into his chest where it rested for several seconds, further adding insult to injury. The pain was nothing though, not nearly enough to wake him up.

Sanji let his legs give to frustration, sinking down to his knees as he pathetically eyed the door, the only exit, wondering what was supposed to happen to him now. He dug his nails into the carpeting, letting his mind reel in an emotional tornado, thinking about Zoro and the last few moments where he might have fallen asleep. Damn him. Damn him. Damn him!

What was supposed to happen now? Sanji stood up and walked around his room, avoiding the door out of instinct. His room was clean and without any sort of object that could be used to harm him. He couldn't feel a natural disaster crawling it's way towards him. If he couldn't see it, couldn't hear or feel it, then it wouldn't be possible for it to happen. Then…what was going to happen?

Sanji licked his lips, wanting nothing more than to smoke a cigarette. The air, although cooler than the air he had endured while trapped in the sheets, was still warm. He could feel his cheeks prickle from the heat, reaching deep inside the muscles and making him an old but recognizable sensation. He could feel it all over him: that scary, devouring tickle that echoed all throughout his body. The room wasn't hot: he was. Remember where he was, Sanji walked over to the door and inspected the knob, watching it in hopes that it would shake or turn on its own.

"You're waiting for disaster, Sanji."

He ignored the voice echoing in his mind and let his index finger rest on the knob.

"This isn't that sort of dream."

His head sank at the sound of the voice no longer in his head. He grabbed hold of the knob and frantically opened the door.

"You won't die tonight." Who was it that said these words? Sanji yanked the door open and was welcomed with a blinding light. Despite the impossibilities Sanji could see through the heavenly light a sixteen-year-old Nami being asked out on a date to the movie theatres. He could see her looking up at him with cat-like curiosity, her smile sneaky but warm. And he could see him betraying her less than a year later; her pink lips being pulled in and bitten by teeth in a hopeless attempt to deter the emotional pain being tossed right at her out of nowhere. It was too bright, too hard t for him to endure and Sanji took a step back, allowing the door to shut in front of him.

"Leave," Sanji yelled. He turned and glared at the young man sitting on his bed, staring right out the window with his expressionless look. "Get out, Law!"

"You know I can't leave when you're thinking about me."

Sanji could feel his teeth grinding against each other in irritation. "If that's the case why isn't Zoro here?"

"You already know why," Law answered passively. "This isn't that sort of dream."

"Most wet dreams usually involve someone naked," Sanji muttered. "You haven't even taken off your shoes."

"You're close, but not close enough," Law said. He smirked and rested on the bed.

"Why can't I speak with Nami instead?" Sanji asked. He sat on the floor, watching Law slowly turn his head and watch him with gray, empty eyes.

"Because she's too good for me," Sanji answered. "But you're apparently right up my alley."

He let himself sink even further, completely aware that he was being watched by the fabrication of his own twisted imagination. Facing the ceiling, Sanji began to ponder the meaning of this dream.

"The moss-head saved my life," Sanji said allowed. He let his fingers run though the carpeting, his fingers burning as he rubbed them manically against the grain. "And all I can think about is how afraid I am. I don't want anymore of this. I can't believe I let him take me back here. And now I'm stuck with you."

"Why?" he heard Law whisper.

"Why? Because he made me think about you!" Sanji said. "I see something, it ends up here! I think about someone, and then they arrive here! I'm always thinking about death…and so I'm always falling apart here." Sanji jumped up and walked over to the man ling below him on the bed. "Look at you, lying on the bed with your legs spread out like that. I should change whatever lesson I'm supposed to learn and turn this into a nice fuck. I'm in control, I wont let either of us say no, and I'll make sure both of us cum at the same time. That's the best thing about knowing when you're dreaming or not."

"But you don't want to fuck me," Law replied. "You hate me too much to even touch me."

"Then why the hell are you still here?"

"You tell me," Law smiled. "You asked it just a second ago…"

Sanji saw the bridge again. How did the two of them achieve to walk together in total silence without one of them bringing up what Zoro had just said before. Sanji confessed that such a relationship could never happen, but it didn't change the fact that the elements of their relationship had been changed. Zoro was saving him for different reasons, and no matter what Sanji could say there would be ulterior motives to the idiot's actions. Sanji was incredibly aware of this, and it was something that had irked him so much since learning about it.

"You'll never be able to save yourself through him," Law said. Sanji leaned away from Law when he saw him extend a thin arm up into the air. He saw long fingers curl into the large palm, just inches away fro his face.

"What?" Sanji growled.

"Why am I here, Sanji?" Law arched his back and let his arm tilt closer to the blonde. Sanji inched himself away from the men, his temperament grower ever shorter by the second.

"I don't want it," Sanji muttered.

"Who said you did?"

"No, no, don't do that." Sanji shook his head and tried to swat the hand away without touching it.

"You know I'm more than just a memory," Law said. He let his hand hit the bed with a soft thud. "Everything."

Who said he wanted to be saved that way? Sanji cupped his ears with his hands, trying to stop that inner voice of his to come up with the answer. He sure as hell wasn't going to let Law supply that answer. And he wasn't going to do it either. The dream was doing to end now.

"It felt good for both of us."

"Shut up, I hate you," Sanji hissed.

"But you know, I'm not really me." Law said. "We haven't spoken in a long time. You haven't even seen me since I left…"

"I'm awake," Sanji muttered. His slowed his breathing down, closed his eyes so tight it hurt. "Wake up…"

Oh, he knew the answer. He knew the bullshit about dreams.

"Sanji…" He wouldn't have opened his eyes were it not for the fact that voice was no longer Law's. But once Sanji did he could see that he was no longer in his room. But he wasn't in Zoro's room either, even though he was sure that was who was calling out to him. Was he moaning in his sleep? That was his voice. He was trying to wake him up. Sanji blinked, his lids tingling, and when he opened his eyes fully he saw Law standing in front of him, watching him with cold, predatory eyes. He had a smile on that brought him to a shiver, only adding to the bleak gray surrounding the two of them. He looked around, hoping to see something other than the cruel figure in front of them. Sanji felt his heart dip deep into his bowls when he saw the only other objects that were around; the bench with a directory posted right next it.

"Why is it always a bus stop?" he asked.

"You know why," he heard the stoic voice next to him whisper in to his ears. "Get over it. Get over me. Accept it. Sorry."

"You never said that," Sanji said.

"Neither did you."

Sanji closed his eyes, his head spinning. It seemed everything around him was growing darker, even though he could hear Zoro calling for him. Was he shaking him yet? Sanji rubbed his forehead. What was he supposed to do once he woke up from this nightmare? He felt two large hands gently cup his face. Sanji clinched his teeth together; stopping himself from pushing the man away, and instead let his arms go limp and opened his eyes and waited to hear the final verdict. His body, though finally relaxed, was brimming with heat. It was so embarrassing. Why did he have to be like this?

"We're all going to die someday," Law said.

"Shit, not what I was expecting," Sanji said. "I think you're supposed to kiss me on the lips, or carry me away."

"You know I care as to how you die," Law continued, ignoring Sanji's snide remarks. "I've told you there are certain things that need to be done. How miserable you'll make the world if you die carrying so many secrets. And what about you? How long will you go denying yourself some truth before you make the final jump?"

"Why do you care so much?" Sanji asked. "Why would you say such horrible things to me? Why would you tell me things like "I can get you a gun," or "You should definitely do it"?"

Sanji knew he didn't really know the answer to this, and so it was no surprise that Law merely shrugged, a devious smirk on his face to provoke Sanji's curiosity and frustration. He wished he knew the secrets the hypocrite in front of him was holding.

"I hate you," Sanji said.

Law leaned in close; his hands still ahold of Sanji. He could feel his hot breath against his ears when Law whispered, "no, you don't."

"Sanji, wake up!"

There were two strong arms squeezing his shoulders, shaking him while he lay limp on the bed. Upon opening his eyes, Sanji couldn't help but convulse, his legs practically kicking the sheets up into a parachute as he fought Zoro's tight grasp and the dizzy remains of his last nightmare. No, he thought, not entirely a nightmare.

"Sanji. Sanji, calm down," he heard could hear Zoro struggle. The young man had removed himself from Sanji, his hands no longer gripping the blonde, crawling away from the bed while trying to ease the blonde from his miniature tantrum. Sanji pulled himself up and sat on top of the bed, his mind scattered but filling with adrenaline. He looked around the room trying to see if there was anything out of the ordinary while completely aware of the young man in front of him. Without looking at Zoro he could see the distress coming from him. He must have been moaning, maybe even crying. Sanji brought a hand to his face and rubbed his eyes. No, they were dry.

"Sanji?" He looked and saw Zoro on his knees, backed away from him. He could see a scrape on the man's arm.

"Yes?" he asked. His voice did sound a little shaky.

"Are you alright?" Zoro asked him cautiously. "You…you were muttering, and then you started whining in your sleep."

I did," Sanji said. He blinked a few more times before bringing his knees up to his chest. His clothes were moist, and mixed from the heat provided by the bed sheet he couldn't help but nasty. "I guess I did."

"Are you alright?" Zoro asked again.

"Of course not," Sanji answered. "Why would I be?"

Zoro didn't answer Sanji's question, rather, he looked away and stared helplessly at the door. Sanji noticed and secretly couldn't blame Zoro if he suddenly wanted to leave.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Sanji frowned. "No. Never." Admittedly, there were still some parts of the dream that confused him, and any sort of given input from Zoro would have been appreciated, but this wasn't a normal dream. It was so personal, and he knew if he talked about it Zoro would only get upset. He had already confessed his jealousy over a man who may as well be dead, if Sanji were to explain what had upset him just recently…well, Sanji wasn't quite sure what Zoro would, could do, but at the very least it would be painfully awkward. And then there was the matter of Zoro partly being a subject of his dream.

"Alright," Zoro said. Sanji could hear the disappointment in Zoro's voice. They were back to square one, except this time Zoro wasn't even trying to pry his way into Sanji's subconscious.

Zoro got up from the floor and walked over to the bed he had rested in. It was made up now, and on top of it was a small take out box, on top of it two sets of utensils. It was only after Sanji saw the box did he suddenly notice the hot, salty smell floating in the air. Some time ago Zoro must have left him and gotten food.

"What time is it?" Sanji asked.

"Nearly ten," Zoro answered. He grabbed the white box and walked back to Sanji's bed, sitting back down on the floor right in front of him.

"Usopp should be awake," Sanji said.

"He might be," Zoro said. He opened the take out box and began to free one of the plastic bags holding the fork and knife.

"I need to go home," Sanji said.

"Sanji…eat."

"What?" Sanji looked down at the flood resting inside the small box. Crammed inside were eggs, sausage patties, some buttered bread, a muffin, and a piece of melon, and it all looked quite terrible. The eggs looked like they had been scrambled in bulk and left inside an oven, the sausages looked microwaved, the melon was obviously cut by an amateur as it was crooked and misshapen, and the muffin definitely was not fresh: the blueberries covering it looked fake and the muffin itself glistened with palm oil and preservatives. The bread had buttered slathered over it, and although there was nothing inherently wrong with it, Sanji could only imagine how bad for Zoro's cholesterol it had to be, assuming this was the regular breakfast choice.

"Where did you get this?" he asked, mildly revolted as he watched Zoro pluck some eggs with his fork and stuff it in his mouth.

"Cafeteria's around the corner," Zoro answered.

"Explains the crap quality," Sanji grimaced. "I'm not hungry."

"At least take a few bites," Zoro said. "I have no idea when your last meal was, and I'm not going to take you to back until I've seen you eat something."

"Excuse me?" Sanji asked.

"I told you: I'm not going to take you back home until you eat something." Zoro picked up a piece of bread and placed a patty on it. "I said I'd fight if I had to…I'll force feed you too."

"You remember that?" Sanji groaned. He stared at the food below and shook his head. He watched Zoro's hand appear below him, grasping another small set of utensils wrapped in cheap plastic. He did not want Zoro stuffing him full of food like some infant. He didn't want to eat. Sanji sighed and took the utensils from the god damned moss-head. He ripped open the plastic and grabbed the fork and stared down regrettably at his meal. He did not want to eat. His stomach hurt. He felt too warm to eat. He was too stressed out.

"Take a bite," Zoro said.

"Ah, uhhh," Sanji leaned in and continued to analyze the food. None of it really looked edible to him.

"Just a bite, Sanji. That's not too hard," Zoro said.

"Fuck, I'll take the melon," Sanji grumbled. Zoro picked the fruit up and handed it to Sanji. Sanji took it and stared strangely at it. Honeydews really weren't in season this time of the year, and now that it was close up he could see how pale the fruit was.

"Eat," Zoro said.

Sanji pressed the fruit against his lips, noticing the stiffness and lack of liquids running down his face. It wasn't really ripe either. It would taste terrible. He opened his mouth and took a small bite from the melon, and just as he predicted, tasted a dull sweetness mixed with fiber and water. He handed the fruit back to Zoro.

"There," Sanji said. "Tastes like crap too."

"You can't call that a bite," Zoro said. He took the melon from Sanji and took a bite near the edge of the melon. "See, that's a bite," he said while pointing a finger at the massive gape. "Also, it tastes just fine."

"You'd think so," Sanji said.

"Then eat something else," Zoro said.

"I already took the bite."

"That's something I'd expect from a little girl," Zoro said. "You need to make up for the rest."

"Ugh!" Sanji grabbed his forked and poked at the eggs, taking a small chunk from the rubbery yellow mass and brought it up to his face. No visible salt, pepper, or any other spice could be seen in or on the overcooked protein. Sanji felt his stomach awaken from the melon, and even though he felt sick from eating the fruit, he could hear his body crave the grossly cooked eggs.

"You're hungry," Zoro said.

"Shit," Sanji said. He closed his eyes and stuffed the eggs in his mouth. The first few bites were sickening, but after the third his mouth began to salivate and demand for more food. He swallowed and wiped his face with his arm.

"Was that so hard?" Zoro asked.

"This food is terrible," Sanji said.

"But you're going to eat it," Zoro said. "And you'll finish it too, because I can tell you're getting hungry, because you haven't eaten in a long time…"

Sanji licked his dry lips. "You really can't expect me to eat all of this? I hate wasting, but this amount is ridiculous."

"I ate some before packing this," Zoro said. "I'll eat some of this, but I do want you to eat a decent meal."

"Or you'll tell Luffy and Usopp and everyone else?"

Zoro shook his head. "You'll do it because I told you too." He reached over to the shelf next to his bed and grabbed a small green container. He waved it in front of Sanji's face, waiting till the blonde finally snatched it from him.

"Apple juice," he said.

"Great, more water and sugar," Sanji remarked.

"Two things you really need right now," Zoro said.

Sanji removed the straw and stabbed the opening and then took a small sip of the overly sweetened juice. This is what they fed people at the dorms? And people liked it? He gave the juice box back to Zoro and looked down at his meal. "I guess I'll try some sausage," he said. Zoro lifted the box up and placed right on top of Sanji's lap. He picked the patty up with his fork and could smell the sodium coming from it as he brought it closer to him. It smelled like a slightly less salty version of a McDonalds patty. He took a bite and frowned: it was a slightly less salt version of a McDonalds parry.

While Zoro began to go through his room and pick out a fresh outfit Sanji slowly finished the sausage patty. He took another sip and then relaxed for a few moments and watched Zoro undress. He stared at the soggy bread and decided to go back to the fruit. When he took another bite from the melon Zoro had a new pair of jeans on and the melon tasted sweeter. He quickly finished it and waited, hoping his stomach had had enough for now. He felt sick, but with every bite he took his stomach thanked him. He was beginning to see that the sickness was coming from somewhere else.

"I'll be right back," Zoro said. In his arms Sanji could see some personal belongings.

"Ok," Sanji said. Zoro went through the other door, closing it behind him. Sanji moved some eggs around with his fork till he found a piece that didn't look so overdone. It didn't seem to matter when he placed the food in his mouth: he was hungry and everything tasted better than what it normally would. He could feel himself grow more sick and satisfied. There was still a decent amount of food left, but Sanji knew he couldn't take another bite. The food was making him sick. Zoro was making him sick.

How miserable you'll make the world if you die carrying so many secrets. There was a knot inside of him somewhere that was making him feel so ill. The words echoed in his mind, sticking to the walls of his brain and burning it like acid. Sanji pushed the food away, letting his had rest on his aching chest. Zoro's determination made him want to vomit.

How long will you go denying yourself – Oh, those words felt sticky and thick and too warm for his taste. Why did Zoro have to bring him this food? It made him feel awful. Why did Zoro have to tell him he was in love with him? It made him feel so self-conscious.

Homosexuality. It didn't really matter how many women he had slept with, whether or not he enjoyed their company, if he ever fell in love with a woman, because it didn't change the fact that heterosexuality was only half of what he was. The more food he ate the more the answer hovered over him. Why was Zoro gay? It scared him to think two men could do those sorts of things and actually be in love. It scared him that Zoro could love him. So scary because he didn't want to fall in love. He didn't want to ever feel that way again. He had worked so hard to push those emotions away, and now they were alive and making the gag reflex alert. How was he supposed to "get over it"? What if he didn't want to? What was he supposed to do then?

"Law?" Sanji covered his mouth, letting his throat tighten so he wouldn't throw up his food. He felt tears soak his eyelashes while he struggled to move the take out box as far away from him so he wouldn't have to smell it. It was sick. He was going to throw up now. He curled up on his side and wiped away some tears.

Sanji remembered sitting on the bridge, listening to Zoro's words. He'd fight to make sure he'd stay alive. There wasn't much he could really do about "getting over it." If he were to live then he would have to get over it and everything else that made him so miserable. Even if he stopped breathing right now, the best thing he could do for himself would be to accept what happened and ease his soul before release.

"Sanji?"

Sanji sprang up and watched Zoro slowly approaching him.

"What's wrong?" Zoro asked. His voice was a frightened whisper.

"Zoro," Sanji said, wiping his face. "I had a bad dream!" He felt tears rolling down his face, somehow dodging his arms and spilling across the bed sheets. Zoro hurried over and grabbed him; his arms shivering upon contact while Sanji frantically wrapped his arms around Zoro.

"Sanji, try to calm down. Relax." Sanji could hear the lack in confidence in Zoro's voice.

"I hate this," Sanji cried.

"What do you hate?"

"Everything, myself," Sanji said. He buried his face between himself and Zoro, taking in the dark shadows produced between them. He felt one of Zoro's arms loosen, adjusting to Sanji's hiding form, and resituating itself dangerously low on his back. "Right now," he said.

"What do you mean?" Zoro asked.

"I fucked Law," Sanji muttered. He felt Zoro's arms tighten around him.

"Y-yeah." The hand resting on his shoulder blade had the fingers curling in, grabbing his shirt and pulling possessively.

Admit it Marimo: you hate him for taking it before you got to me, Sanji thought. There's nothing wrong with that.

"I hate it," Sanji said. "Everything Luffy said to you, and more." He blinked a few times and noticed he wasn't crying anymore. The light permeating between bodily gaps made him feel oddly relaxed. "We did it. For months. I think I might have fallen in love at one point. And it's terrible. That wasn't a healthy relationship. Now that I'm thinking about it, I miss it so much…" He began to shake.

"Sanji, that's…ok," Zoro said. He was struggling to console him. He didn't want to hear this. Sanji remained buried and continued to look at the messy bed sheets below him.

"Why did I do that?" Sanji asked.

"It doesn't matter, it was a long time ago," Zoro said.

"I'm not gay," Sanji said.

"You don't have to be gay to sleep with a man," Zoro muttered. Don't get too hopeful Moss-Head.

"Why did I do it?" Sanji asked again.

"Is this why you want to kill yourself?" Zoro carefully asked.

"Things were going wrong before I met Law," Sanji answered. "Around when I dated Nami…everything was before Law."

Sanji could hear his heart beat. There was no more nausea, and instead his insides felt as though a great weight had been lifted from him. He hated confessing these feelings, but they made him feel so much better. It was the only good thing Zoro could provide him.

But what would happen now that he had confessed? Would he live, or would he die? Other that Zoro's determination to keep him alive there was very little that made Sanji ere to one side. Right now he was completely reactionary, and he couldn't see himself trying to start all over again.

"Sanji, thank you."

Sanji lifted his head a bit and took a peek at Zoro. "Why?" he asked.

"For saying something," Zoro replied. "I was scared you might just remain silent. I didn't want to force you. I really wanted you to be able to do this on your own."

Sanji rested his head against Zoro's chest. He felt Zoro's head turn. Sanji pulled his hands off of him and let them rest on the bed.

"You ate?" Zoro asked.

"I can't eat anymore," Sanji replied. "I can't…eat…anymore. Don't make me."

"Alright," Zoro said. The two of them remained in this close connection after this. Sanji didn't want to move away from Zoro. He felt compelled to rest against him. He almost didn't want to leave. He hated the man so much for placing him in this situation, but wanted to stay with him so long as he had to continue this misery. He felt Zoro release his grasp on his shirt, letting his hand hover above his shoulder before finally resting on the bed. The other hand was still so low, a few fingers now resting on his pants. A few seconds past, Sanji closed his eyes and concentrated on the subtle vibrations coming from the bed. Zoro's hand sliding across the sheets, trying to reach his hand cradled close to his side. Sanji knew this position was too inappropriate. It sent the wrong message to a man who wanted to more than save him. He wouldn't move though. Still too scared–of what now?–he wasn't sure. How long would he feel so helpless?

Sanji flinched when he felt rough fingers rub against his. They moved away once Zoro felt Sanji's surprise from the physical contact. The hand resting on his lower back was pulled away. With his left hand Sanji grabbed Zoro's shirt and pulled the man close to him, stopping Zoro from leaving him.

"Don't," he whispered.

A few seconds later he felt Zoro ease. The young man didn't say a thing, nor did Sanji when he felt Zoro's fingers touch his again. The hand possessed his, grabbing it and holding it dearly while the other rested lightly on his shoulder. Sanji peered up and saw two eyes staring down at him with an endearing look. He watched as they drew closer to him, the shadow engulfing his body and the dark pupils swallowing him whole.

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