Sanji closed his eyes tightly, feeling the corners of his mouth turn up into a slightly ludicrous sated smile as he concentrated on the lovely melody of panted breath brushing warmly against the corner of his ear. His lover had moved off of him only moments before, and the cook's bare skin was only beginning to be cooled by the intrusive breeze entering the room through the open window.

"Were too."

His smile fell away, as his mouth twisted in irritation. Trust Zoro to ruin the moment by doing something stupid. Like talking.

"Was not." he replied.

"Were too."

Irritation was quickly warming to anger.

"Aren't you capable of saying anything else, Idiot? And I was not."

"Yes you were. Why don't you just admit it, Cook?"

Sanji sat up abruptly.

"Listen, I'm only going to say this one more time, so you better let it seep into that thick skull of yours. I couldn't give a shit WHO you choose to smile at. I'm certainly not going to get all jealo—concerned about it. And, I mean, she wasn't even that pretty! Not that that matters, or anything, since I don't care—are you laughing at me?"

The suspicious sounds immediately subsided into the darkness beside him.

"You're an asshole. And I have better things to do with my time then to get bothered by the shit that you do."

Zoro sat up, and then leaned into, way into, the blonde's personal space. Caught off guard, Sanji was too surprised to react to the sudden closeness. Their lips were touching, but not quite kissing, as the swordsman spoke in a low deliberate tone.

"Really? Don't I bother you?"

And the cook was bothered most by how quickly he leaned in to be bothered some more.