Author's Note: Okay, I feel like Sanji's a bit out of character in here, but I really like this chapter. The ending feels rushed to me, but I'm really looking forward to the next chapter, chapter 21, that I think everyone's going to like. I don't own One Piece. Also, translations of what was said in the past chapter will be revealed below, thank-yous will be given and then I'm going to explain some syndromes, just in case people don't understand them. This is my first actual step into creating sexual tension and I hope it went well. I think they think a little fast, but I like it. I hope you guys do too! So I just went over this chapter again and realized all the mistakes so I've decided I'll be revising these chapters. It might be a weak before the next new chapter is updated, but since I'm kind of sick and have a fever, I'm not going anywhere. It'll probably take less time. I plan on revising this story maybe 3 times? This is the first time, when I'm about half-way done, and I'll revise it again a third time when the story's done. This thing's looking to be like, at least 40 chapters. I hope you'll like it and won't get tired!


Beautiful Disaster
By: Setkia


Full Summary

Sanji is the assistant cook of the world-renowned restaurant, the Baratie, the only restaurant like it in the world. He's a successful chef and flirts with the customers every chance he can get but there's a problem. It's all a facade. The cooks give a new meaning to the word "abusive", both mental and physical. The only thing keeping Sanji alive is his love for cooking and a good ol' pack of cigarettes.

Zoro Roronoa is a swordsman who suddenly has more change in his pocket than he expected and enters the Baratie by recommendation. His waiter happens to be a curly browed man with an adoration for cigarettes. An attempt speak to the head chef goes horribly wrong and he gets sucked into the crumbling world of the chef's, wondering how he can possibly save him and better yet, why does he want to save him in the first place?


WARNINGS, the following things are present in this chapter of Beautiful Disaster:

Mentions of self-harm, somewhat suicidal thoughts, past abuse

Teasing. There's teasing in here. Lots of it.


Chapter 20: Entertain (Distract) Me


Sanji was fidgety.

He had cleaned the kitchen at least twice and gone through a packet of cigarettes, all within in a single hour. Zoro wasn't even going to be released from the hospital until later that day and yet he was anxious beyond belief. He had at least another half-hour before Zoro came back and he was busy worrying and chewing on his cigarettes, smoking them half-way before throwing them out. Sanji hated wasting cigarettes.

There was no doubt that on that day three days ago, Nami and the others had seen.

He had to roll up his sleeve and let the doctor take his blood, no one in their right mind would miss the scars, the burns, the bruises. Knowing Nami, she probably told Zoro about it which meant Zoro was sure to ask about it when he got back and Sanji wasn't sure what to tell him. He didn't want him to know about the trip he had taken to the Baratie, that probably wouldn't be the greatest thing. He knew that.

The night Zoro had been admitted to the hospital was the last night Sanji had cut.

It was when the crimson fell into the stainless sink, looking like droplets of rain, that he realized what he was doing. He knew that his dependance on this unhealthy manner of "healing" wasn't approved by Zoro, who was currently in a bed at the hospital. He had stared at his own blood as he ran the water, watching it swirl into the drain. The blood he had given Zoro.

If Zoro caused himself to nearly bleed out again, Sanji would offer his own blood again. In a heartbeat, he couldn't allow the stupid marimo to get himself killed over such a trivial thing. That meant his blood was Zoro's. He needed it to keep him alive, and by extension, to keep Zoro alive.

He had washed the knife that night and put it away. He used it to chop vegetables, to mince meat, to make salad, but once he had made his decision on lending Zoro his blood, it was different, being in the kitchen. Instead of hearing a silent voice in the back of his mind telling him that if he angled his hand just a bit to the side, he'd be releasing his own pain, there was nothing. It was as though the knives were no longer taunting him, tempting him to make the first cut.

Sanji wondered if Zoro had any idea how much he had affected him.

He didn't want Zoro to know about his weakness, even if he was certain he was getting over it. After all, that day at the Baratie, hadn't he promised himself he wouldn't cut again and then he had shed enough blood to make it look like a massacre? He didn't want to crack, didn't think he could handle it if Zoro asked him about it.

How was he supposed to distract the marimo so that he didn't have a chance to ask him about his scars?

Sanji was healing, that's what he thought. He was sure he was getting better and better with each passing day, like all his old wounds, though they were still there, were closing up, being tightly closed, with only the stitches and memories to be a reminder of what had happened to him, how broken he had been. He didn't want to take any steps back on his road to recovery, he wanted to heal.

He didn't want Zoro's efforts to be in vain. He didn't want to let the swordsman down, didn't want him to worry about him, didn't want to burden him with Sanji's own personal, inner struggle against himself and his mind. It was too complicated that he didn't even understand it himself, but he was getting there. He wanted to be someone Zoro was proud of, someone who Zoro could point out in a crowd and say with a big smile on his face, "That's Sanji, my friend."

Friend.

The word seemed to cause him a bittersweet sadness. His stomach churned and clenched when he thought too much about it. The fact that Zoro even called them friends— or at least, Sanji hoped they were friends, especially after the dinner he had made him and the blood donation— was good enough, wasn't it? That Zoro was friends with someone who was so … broken, was a miracle.

Sanji wasn't stupid. Though he hadn't seen his reflection in months and avoided mirrors like a plague, he knew he was scarred. He was torn apart, he was damaged. Zoro was, in his mind, that little kid who found something broken and thought by using his superglue, he could fix everything. Sometimes he tried to make the pieces fit too harshly, sometimes he screwed up, sometimes it felt apart even worse, but he kept going, kept trying, certain he could make things right.

Zoro was his friend and that was more than he could ask for. Zoro was … Zoro was nakama to him.

Sanji remembered he had heard somewhere that the term "nakama" was like saying "I love you" in a platonic way.

As Sanji lit up his umpteenth cigarette, watching the smoke swirl around him, he wondered whether "platonic" was the right word for it.

The door opened at that moment and Sanji turned around sharply to see Zoro standing in the doorway, kicking off his shoes. "Fucking damn lock," he muttered, "fucking Mihawk for breaking my fucking arm!"

Sanji smirked. "Welcome back, Marimo."

Zoro looked up at him, throwing his keys onto the floor. "Fuck," he muttered. Sanji was pretty sure Zoro was aiming for the couch, but apparently, he had missed. By a lot. Zoro trudged towards the fallen keys, picking them up and putting them on the coffee table before collapsing on the couch. "I hate hospitals," he declared. "Fucking nurses making a fuss over nothing." He laid his head back and stared up at Sanji who looked down at the swordsman with a smirk on his face. "Where's my coffee, Curly Brow?"

"Coming right up," Sanji told him, going into the kitchen. Making coffee was probably one of the easiest things Sanji had learnt how to do and he was so good at making it, he could do it in his sleep.

How to distract him?

An idea popped into his head. "Did you ever get to eat that cake?"

Zoro stared at him. "Why?"

"Just curious," Sanji replied.

"Well, Luffy ate most of it," Zoro said. "What was it, rice cake, right?" He shook his head. "I wasn't all that hungry. I was … distracted, I guess you could say." He twisted his body to turn and look into the kitchen. "Where did you find that sword?"

"Just some sword shop," Sanji said with a shrug. He wouldn't mention the high cost of it, or the way he had begged the man to open up at the shop despite the fact that it had closed an hour before Sanji had gotten there. "I know you probably don't need another sword, since you've already got three, but …" Sanji shrugged, pouring the coffee into a mug. "I don't know, you can hang it somewhere or something, you don't have to use it—"

"No, I will," Zoro said. "I will."

"But you fight three-sword style, right? You already have three swords—"

"Then I'll put another one on display or something," Zoro said with a shrug. "Yubashiri is getting kind of old anyway."

"Where is the sword?" asked Sanji. "They put up a fight with me bringing you your swords before, so where's Shusui?"

"I need to get it back from Nami. She has all my other swords too," he scoffed. "Said I can't fight for a while so I shouldn't be tempted to use them while I'm still injured. Bitch," he muttered but Sanji could tell from the way he spoke he didn't mean it. He was still irritated with Nami nonetheless, but she was his close friend.

Sanji handed Zoro a mug of coffee. He watched Zoro drank it, his eyes closing, his chest rising and falling. "Fuck, I swear, you're like some kind of mystical cook or something." He smiled. "It's been so long since I've had something decent in my stomach."

"Finish your coffee, then get in the kitchen," Sanji declared.

"What? Why?" Zoro asked.

"We're baking a cake."


"How do you bake with one arm?" asked Zoro. "You said a cook's hands are like, their most treasured possession, right? So how do you expect me to do this? Plus, my dominant hand was injured. How do you expect me to make anything like this?" Zoro gestured to his injured arm.

"Then I'm going to teach you how to do things with one hand," Sanji said with a shrug. "It's not that hard."

"You're not even telling me what kind of cake this'll be—"

"Castella cake," Sanji cut him off. "No chocolate whatsoever, I know how you don't like it." Sanji went to preheat the the oven at 320˚ F and then got two loaf pans and parchment paper. "I need you to take out the eggs right now, you have large eggs, right? They need to be at room temperature. If we leave them out for a while, they'll get there," he told Zoro. "Anyway, this is a pretty easy recipe. We just need sugar, bread flour, honey, warm water and the eggs. Even you can't screw this up," he assured him. "After all, you managed to make onigri, this is just a step up from it."

"Remember that you're a cook and I'm a pedestrian, which means that what you call easy and what I call easy differ from each other."

"Well we can't make rice cake, we're almost out of rice," Sanji told him. "I need to go shopping soon for it. Anyway, I'll get the sugar and the flour, it'll be too heavy for you to lift with one arm, and you can get the honey."

Zoro mumbled under his breath how Sanji was underestimating him but he got the honey while Sanji put the sugar and flour onto the small island in the centre of Zoro's kitchen. "Can you cut this paper?" he asked Zoro, pointing towards the parchment paper. "We need to line the pans with it."

Zoro took a pair of scissors out of a drawer and rolled his eyes. "Of course I can fucking cut, I'm a swordsman, remember?"

Watching Zoro cut parchment paper was endlessly amusing to Sanji. Especially since he did it like a young boy doing an art project. He stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth and his forehead creased in concentration. His efforts were not wasted, though Zoro's hand shook a lot while cutting, the parchment fit perfectly into the pan.

Sanji cut his parchment in about half the time it took Zoro.

"Show off," Zoro snapped.

"Experienced," Sanji corrected him. "Okay, I'll get a sieve for the flour."

"A what?" Zoro asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sanji rolled his eyes. "Never mind." He got the sieve from a cupboard and put it on the table before going back to get a measuring cup and a tablespoon.

"Oh you meant that bowl with all the holes!"

Sanji sighed. He knew he should've chosen kitchen equipment as a category for their game in the hospital. He'd have won hands down. "Okay, I'll pour the flour into this measuring cup," Sanji said, gesturing towards it, "and you'll hold it for me, okay?"

Zoro sighed. "Why do I feel like I'm doing all the boring parts?"

"I'll let you crack the eggs if you want," Sanji promised. It was funny the way Zoro's eyes lit up like a child on Christmas, but then he drew his mouth into a thin line and scoffed, his eyes were still shining though.

"Fine, whatever," he muttered.

"Okay," Sanji said. He lifted the bag of flour and started to pour it into the cup while Zoro held it steady. Sanji kept his eyes trained on the lines on the side of the cup. When it was full, he put the sieve above the bowl. "Alright so now, you're going to pour that cup into the sieve and we're going to sift it—"

"Are you making up words, cook?" asked Zoro, staring at him oddly. "Isn't the word shift?"

"Sift," Sanji repeated. "Not shift," he corrected. "Anyway, you pour it and I'll sift it."

Zoro grumbled about how cooking made no sense to him, but he poured the flour in. Sanji shook the sieve gently, watching as the flour fell through the holes and the lumpy bits stayed put. He took the lumps that remained and poured them back into the cup. "I need you to pour it again, so that we'll even everything out," he told Zoro.

Zoro did as told.

Once all the lumps were gone and in the bottom of the bowl, Sanji handed Zoro a tablespoon. "Okay, we need two and a half of tablespoons of the flour. Put it in the sieve, okay?"

"Can't you just call it a strainer or something?"

"No," Sanji told him firmly. "A strainer is a kind of sieve, but it's not this kind, so that'd be a misnomer," he said.

"Greenland and Iceland are misnomers," Zoro told him. "What does it matter what kind of shive it is?"

"It's a sieve," Sanji corrected him. "Look, we just need two and a half tablespoons, alright? Even you can do that, can't you?"

"Whatever Curly Brow," Zoro mumbled, putting two tablespoons into the sieve before pausing and staring at the spoon strangely. "Um, Sanji?"

"Yeah?"

"What's half a tablespoon?"

Sanji sighed and rolled his eyes. "Half a tablespoon is half a tablespoon," he said. "Just fill up half of it, okay?"

"But—"

"Seriously Marimo?" Sanji asked. "What, are you not able to?"

Zoro gritted his teeth at him. "I can too!"

"Prove it then," Sanji teased him.

Zoro shoved his good arm into the bag of flour, coming up with what was definitely not half a tablespoon. "Idiot, that's three quarters!"

"What are you, a math genius or something?" Zoro demanded. He flicked what was on the spoon at Sanji and Sanji, in his surprise, loosened his grip on the sieve.

"You're wasting food," he reprimanded Zoro.

"Yeah well, you suck at teaching!"

"You're just a horrible student!"

"Did you even go to school?" demanded Zoro.

"That's none of your business! Half a tablespoon, alright?"

"Someone's impatient," Zoro muttered before he put what was as close to half a tablespoon as Zoro was ever going to get into the sieve.

After sifting it as well, he got a smaller bowl. "Okay, we need five tablespoon of honey. You want to do it?" he asked Zoro.

"Since you won't let me handle anything interesting, sure," Zoro grumbled, but he was really bad at hiding his smile as he put the five tablespoons of honey into the small bowl. "You know, I …" Zoro trailed off and turned away.

"You what?" Sanji asked, putting in two and a half tablespoons of warm water into the small bowl along with the honey. He didn't trust Zoro with fractions. He began to mix the combination with a whisk while he waited for Zoro to finish his statement.

"Never mind," Zoro said, his voice sounding quiet all of a sudden.

"No, you mentioned it now, so you have to tell me," Sanji said. "Otherwise you should've just kept your mouth shut."

"Well I'm keeping it shut now!" Zoro snapped back, turning to him to yell in his face, but Sanji saw the blush that was creeping up across Zoro's tanned skin. "Just mix the fucking stuff, alright?"

"You know that I now have to get it out of you, right?" Sanji said, raising an eyebrow at him. "And I know your weakness too."

Zoro stared at him with wide eyes. "You wouldn't."

Sanji smirked, blowing out his cigarette. "Try me."

Zoro backed away from him slowly, pressing his back against the sink. Idiot, cornering yourself, Sanji thought, leaning over him. Zoro was taller than him, that he'd admit, but it was only by one centimetre and besides, Zoro seemed to be shrinking at the current moment.

"I … I could kick you in the balls if I wanted to," Zoro threatened.

"But you won't," Sanji said confidently.

"Who says?"

"I did, remember?" Sanji teased. "Tell me."

Zoro shook his head profusely. "It's embarrassing."

"Tough shit, it doesn't matter," Sanji told him. "Tell me or else."

"Or else?" Zoro repeated. "Running out of good threats?"

And then Sanji attacked.

His hands stretched out in front of him and his fingers began to curl and ran along Zoro's sides. Almost immediately, Zoro started to curl into himself, trying to stop himself but his laughter came pouring out regardless of his fruitless efforts to stop it. Zoro forced his body to the ground so that his head was pressed against the cabinet under the sink, and Sanji followed him, continuing his assault.

"S-stop!" he cried, tears appearing in his eyes as his hands went thrashing. "S-Sanji!"

"Nope," Sanji teased, tickling him even harder. And then—

"FUCK!"

Sanji's back hit the small island as Zoro slithered out from under him and ran to the other side of the island. "Ha!"

Sanji stood up, wincing in pain. "You kicked me in the balls!"

"Told you!" Zoro snapped.

Sanji winced, sucking in a breath between his teeth, probably looking ridiculous from Zoro's point of view.

Zoro paused. "Does it really hurt?" he asked, looking at Sanji with a worried crease in his brow. "I didn't mean to," he confessed. "It just … I don't know, reflex."

"For a swordsman who uses their hands, you kick fucking hard," Sanji told him. "What if I can't reproduce now?" he demanded. "That'll be entirely on your conscience!"

Zoro rolled his eyes. "Okay, now you're just laying it on thick. Any sympathy I had for you is gone," he told him. "Be a man, Curly Brow, it wasn't that hard, I've taken worse. Namely from your legs, might I add," Zoro said. "Man up!"

"Shut it," Sanji snapped. Okay fine, he was laying it on thick, but it did hurt a little still. The initial shock was gone, but it still stung. "Come on, I just sacrificed my bloodline and genetic make-up to learn what you were saying, so are you going to tell me?"

Zoro shook his head. "No way in hell!"

Sanji sighed. "Well, then I'm not doing anything till you tell me," he told him with a shrug. He folded his arms and leaned against the sink, a triumphant smirk on his face. "I'm patient. I can wait."

"Good, cause you'll be waiting all day," Zoro shot back.

Sanji knew Zoro. He was not patient. Not in the very least.

To his credit, he lasted two minutes before he spoke again, but when he did, he was mumbling under his breath. Sanji smirked, knowing he had won. "What was that, Marimo?"

"I said …"

"What? You speaking French again?"

"I SAID I MISSED THIS, OKAY YOU FUCKING BASTARD?"

Sanji smirked. "I heard you the second time."

"I reiterate, fucking bastard," Zoro muttered. "Can we just continue now?"

"Reiterate," Sanji repeated. "Big word for you, isn't it, Marimo?" he teased.

"I said, can. We. Continue?" Zoro said through gritted teeth.

Sanji decided he had teased him enough and smiled. "Okay." He went back to the table and continued to mix the honey and water until it was well mixed. "The eggs should be room temperature now, right?" he asked Zoro.

Zoro nodded. "So I put them in?"

"Well, you crack them first," Sanji said. "Can't eat egg shells, can you?" he teased.

"Idiot, that's what I meant," Zoro muttered. He took a large egg from the carton and turned it over in his hand before cracking it on the edge of the table. The egg cracked and the yolk dripped down the side of the table.

"Zoro!"

Sanji sighed. "Less force," he told him, trying to not get too bad at him for dirtying his spotless kitchen. "We need six eggs, this is a carton of twelve, right?" He took an egg from the carton and tapped it lightly against the rim of the bowl. There was a small dent in it and with that, Sanji spread his fingers across the egg and let the yolk fall into the bowl. "Like that. Be more gentle. Like … I dunno, like it's your baby."

"Why the fuck would I have a baby?" Zoro demanded. "And why would I be cracking its head open?"

"Fine, that was a bad analogy," Sanji admitted. "Just, don't do it so aggressively. You don't need to use all your strength to do it," he reminded him.

Zoro sighed and took another egg. He cracked it on the side of the bowl like Sanji had done, but when he tried to open it over the bowl, the yolk seemed to seep out and coat his fingers. He threw the useless egg into the sink and growled under his breath. "Fucking eggs are stupid," he muttered.

"Just watch carefully, okay?" Sanji said, repeating his usual cracking of the egg.

When he was done and had thrown the shell away, he found Zoro was staring at him. Well, not him exactly, but his hands. "What?" he asked.

Zoro reached out as though in a trance and took one of Sanji's hands in his. He turned it over so the palm was facing upwards and ran his thumb over Sanji's fingers. It was a very strange position to be in, especially considering Zoro was doing this all with one hand. He held Sanji's hand like a kid would hold a parent's when crossing the street, but then he unlaced his fingers and let them trace over the light calluses on Sanji's fingers.

"They're beautiful," Zoro seemed to mutter under his breath.

Sanji's breath caught in his throat as he watched Zoro's thumb as it traced over his life line, his touch gentle and soft. It was true that both men had calluses on their hands, but Zoro's had been earned through gripping his swords and fighting, while Sanji's were from holding the knives in the kitchen. Sanji's were more subtle than Zoro's, less obvious, smoother.

"Zoro …"

"Hmm?" asked Zoro, his fingers continued to play with Sanji's as though memorizing the surface of his skin.

"The … the eggs," Sanji said in a quiet voice. He didn't want Zoro to stop, feeling his fingers in his was something indescribable he had never experienced before, but they had a cake to make, and if Zoro held Sanji's hand any longer, the cook could not be held responsible for his actions. Plus, Zoro was getting yolk all over him.

Zoro looked up as though realizing this for the first time and he instantly let go of Sanji's hand.

Sanji's hand still felt warm but it was slowly disappearing as Zoro nodded and wiped his hand on his pants. "Right. That's two eggs, we need four more?" he asked.

"Yeah," Sanji said. He wondered if Zoro was as fazed as he was over what had just happened. The only indication was Zoro's brief cough into his hand before he took another egg from the carton.

Eight more eggs were left in the carton.

Zoro hit it on the side of the bowl and pressed his thumb into the crack, letting the yolk leak out of the crack. He tried to separate the egg so the inside would come out, but he was probably scared of getting the shell in the mixture. Sanji sighed and using his hands, he held open the egg for him, the large yellow middle falling into the bowl with a plop.

Sanji wondered if Zoro could feel his rapid heartbeat through his back. He hoped not.

"Fuck this," Zoro muttered. "It's impossible."

"You almost got it," Sanji told him. "Besides, we just need three more. We're half-way there."

Zoro took another egg and cracked it against the rim. He tried to part it, but with only one hand, it was hard.

"Here, let me help," Sanji said, holding out his hands to help him, his head practically in Zoro's neck as he peered over his shoulder. Zoro shivered and turned around quickly, his back pressed against the table with the egg still in his hands. He was … trembling?

Sanji didn't dare think too much about it, his hands going out and resting on the table on either side of Zoro to steady himself and instead, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, calming himself down. He didn't understand what was happening, why his body seemed so sensitive at the moment, why he seemed so acutely aware of Zoro's movements. He opened his eyes again and they landed on Zoro's lips, which were slightly parted.

That first kiss … Sanji had nearly no time to register it, no time to react. He had been too shocked, too immobilized to do anything. But if he initiated it, maybe …?

He looked back up at Zoro whose eyes seemed downcast as well. Were they thinking the same thing? Maybe …

CRACK!

Sanji didn't register it until after it happened. One second he was contemplating leaning closer and if he was right, Zoro had been moving closer too and the next, there was yolk in his eye.

Zoro had … Zoro had cracked an egg on his head.

The bastard!

"Zoro Roronoa, you're going to regret the day you were born!" Sanji promised. First a kick in the balls, now an egg on the head? Wiping the yolk out of his eye, he saw red in fury. Instead of considering the fact that he could be wasting very usable ingredients, he grabbed the bag of flour that was left on the counter and taking a handful of it, he threw it in the swordsman face.

Zoro blinked, his face now looking white. He slipped out from under Sanji and backed away, an evil grin on his face. "Oh, it's on!" he declared. He took a spoon from the table and put it in the honey.

"No!" Sanji said. He was wearing a nice blazer! In fact, this one was his favourite.

"Try me," Zoro threatened.

"This isn't fair!" Sanji snapped. "You've already kicked me in the balls and gotten me full of yolk," he said. "You can't do anymore damage! I still need to retaliate one more time. If you get me covered in honey, then it becomes a war!"

"Becomes a war?" Zoro echoed thoughtfully. He grinned wickedly. "It's already war!" And with that, he threw his hand back and flung the honey at Sanji.

Sanji ducked and went to the sink. He opened the tap and and turned it on. The tap acted like a shower head, able to extend off the sink and Sanji planned on using it. Using the tap like a hose, he sprayed Zoro from across the table with cold water.

"Hey!" Zoro snapped. "I'm injured!"

"Like that'll save you now," Sanji said with a roll of his eyes.

Zoro grabbed the sieve as though that could protect him, using it as a shield. It was a wobbly shield anyway, being held up by only one hand, the weight was uneven. "Fuck, why does this thing have holes?" he demanded.

Grabbing an egg from the carton, Sanji threw it at Zoro, who tried to duck, but it landed in his hair anyway.

"Fuck you!" Zoro yelled at him, but the laughter was clear in his eyes. He grabbed the sugar bag and raced over to Sanji, dumping it on his head.

Sanji coughed, unable to see until the majority of the sugar had been emptied and it was placed back on the table. When the smoke created by the sugar had cleared, he could see Zoro who was staring at him triumphantly, as though he had won a great battle. "Stop gloating, Marimo," Sanji told him, but his coughing fit interrupted the death glare he was sending him.

"I'm not gloating," Zoro said.

"Not aloud you're not," Sanji admitted, "but I can hear your thoughts. They're obnoxious."

Sanji sighed. Now that the high of the fight was gone, he realized what a mess had been made and he had cleaned the kitchen twice already! Twice! It was such a waste of food …

Sanji stared at his hand, turning it over. His cigarette was ruined, so he threw it out. His blazer would need a thorough cleaning if he was ever going to be able to wear it again. He sighed and decided he had no choice. He licked his index finger, shivering at the amount of sugar. It was too sweet, but to let the food go to waste …

Zoro stared at him as Sanji started sucking on his finger, wrapping his tongue around it, trying to get all the sugar off. May as well salvage what he could, shouldn't he? When it was clean, he started sucking on his middle finger as well. It really was too sweet.

"S-Sanji …"

Sanji looked up at Zoro who simply stared at him, mouth agape.

"What are you looking at, Marimo?" he asked, sticking a third finger into his mouth. "It's a fucking waste," he said.

Zoro's mouth closed and he licked his lips slowly. Sanji stopped sucking, watching the way Zoro's tongue traced his lips, slowly before returning back to his mouth. God, what was this feeling? His pants felt a little too tight and the look in Zoro's eyes was making them tighter.

Oh fuck, was he being turned on by that moss-headed swordsman?

He watched Zoro carefully, the way Zoro seemed to try to look away, his hand fidgeting, but he kept watching Sanji, like he couldn't tear his gaze away. He looked flustered. Sanji smirked. Well, at least he wasn't the only one suffering. He took the three fingers out of his mouth and licked up his palm slowly, keeping eye-contact the entire time.

He watched Zoro's Adam's apple bob as he gulped.

Letting his hand drop, Sanji licked his lips. It was sweet, too sweet. And this felt like sweet, sweet torture so it seemed to fit. He kept his eyes on Zoro, watching for a reaction. Was he overstepping his boundaries? What if the swordsman was only this way because of the tension that hung in the air? He couldn't let himself think too much of this. If he read into it and it turned out to be something different, Sanji wasn't sure if he could handle it.

Still …

He took a step closer to Zoro, who backed up instinctively.

"You've made a mess," he said in a soft voice.

"Ngg," was the only thing that came out of Zoro's mouth. He was gripping the table as though it was his life-line, and from the way his eyes dropped down to Sanji's lips, were they on the same page? Could he maybe …? Just one more time?

Sanji leaned closer still, his hands going on either side of Zoro, trapping him for the thousandth time that day. "Zoro," he said in a quiet voice, sounding hoarse and husky. He took one of his hands off the counter, instead lacing it between Zoro's fingers, revelling in the warmth of the contact. Zoro seemed like he was coming closer too and if Sanji tilted his head just a little—

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

It took Sanji a few moments to register what the sound was. The oven. There was smoke coming from the oven.

He untangled himself from Zoro and opened the oven. "Open the windows and fan the smoke alarm," Sanji instructed, turning off the oven and lighting up another cigarette. Zoro just stood there, dumbfounded. "Go!"

Immediately, Zoro sprinted away to open the windows.

Sanji fell back, leaning against the stove and sighed.

So close … so fucking close.

Had the smoke alarm not gone off, would they have …?

Sanji shook his head. No, just because he was starting to open himself up to the idea of liking Zoro, that didn't mean he felt the same. But at the very least he had learnt that Zoro found him sexually attractive. The bulge in his pants had been proof enough.

But just a physical relationship … Sanji could barely handle an emotional one, could he really handle something that was only physical? Besides, Zoro had probably been out of his mind at that moment, it didn't mean anything.

Of course, Sanji mused to himself. When I finally let someone in, it's a fucking green-haired marimo who probably has Florence Nightingale syndrome.

And yet when Zoro came back and they finished the cake, watching Zoro as he ate Sanji's food, Sanji closed his eyes and hoped just maybe, maybe there was something else there.


Author's Note #2: Okay, now for the thank-yous!

Raigon: I enjoy teasing people and I hope it worked. I just remember with my own original characters, I realized one of them was most compatible with another male character I had created and thus, the two became bisexual, but then I was like, "I want you to draw them shirtless" to my friend who enjoys drawing my characters and she was all like, "I need a story" so I was like, "Okay, story where they end up shirtless by the end? Okay, I can do that ..." and then I was like, "Kitchen scene!" And I wrote it and it included whipped cream. I enjoy kitchen teasing scenes, they didn't end up shirtless in this story cause well ... I don't know how Zoro would do that, but anyway ...

JustCallMeLucie: Yeah, I changed Zoro's swords from when he fought Sanji so that instead of Shusui, he had his other sword he got before Shusui. Because of the past of Shusui, (which I'm fuzzy on cause I haven't reached the time-skip yet, and I'm not even close to it at all, or is it before the time-skip? I feel like a loser writing a story about a fandom I know so little about) about how it was basically like, taken from the grave, yeah, uh, that isn't possible in this AU. So I kinda decided that's how Zoro gets it.

Dyloa: Told you, I suck at verbs, but I tried really hard! And then someone pointed out how I forgot a t at the end of "sont" and I felt really stupid. I tried to use a bescherelle, but I've never had much patience for them.

Michikuni Mayu: Thanks! I'm really happy you like it! I kinda feel like I'm making a fool out of myself, writing in French and still not managing, but to be fair, there's like, a thousand tenses of verbs and our teachers are just like, "here's a tense of verb. Use it." And they never properly explain how to use it. Apparently though, us anglophoes can guess pretty well when to use imparfait and passé compossé (And I feel like I just spelt that wrong). I swear I'm good at French, just not so much at writing it.

Ayamichan34 (x2): Sanji wrapped up ... That'd be interesting. I bet he'd choke on all the smoke though since I doubt he'd be in that box without his cigarette.

Alright, so what they said, I'll write it in French and then the translation. Maybe reread the chapter with these translations in mind. It makes it sweeter.

French: "On ne parle pas japonais,"
English: "We don't speak Japanese."

French: "Je m'excuse, je ne veux pas vous deranger, sauf c'est seulement que je suis in peu perdu. Es-ce que vous pourriez m'aidé?"
English: "Excuse me, I don't want to bother you, but I'm a bit lost. Could you help me?"

French: "Où est l'autre homme qui était avec vous?"
English: "Where's the other man that was with you?"

French: "Je sais pas. Savez-vous comment allez a l'aire de restauration?"
English: "I don't know. Do you know how to get to the food court?"

French: "Son copain et lui sont vraiment mignon, n'est ce pas?"
English: "His boyfriend and he are really cute, aren't they?"

Which means Zoro's wish was for Sanji to be his boyfriend.

The reference to a movie was When Harry Met Sally, which is, in my opinion, one of the greatest romantic comedies of all time. The scene was referenced when Zoro spoke about how he moaned orgasmically in the Baratie and how that stuff only happens in movies. In the movie, at one point, Harry talks to Sally and says that he knows when a woman had a good time with him in bed. She asks if maybe they're faking it. Harry tells her he can tell the difference, so Sally proceeds to fake an orgasm in the middle of the restaurant. It's a hilarious scene, you can find it on YouTube.

Okay, if you've ever read my Bleach story, then you'd know that Stockholm syndrome, (also known as capture-bonding) is when the captive (in this case, Sanji) develops sympathy, positive emotions and possibly connections towards their kidnapper (in this case, Zoro). The opposite is Lima syndrome, where the captor (the kidnapper) feels sympathetic towards the one they kidnapped.

Florence Nightingale syndrome. Back to the Future anyone? Okay, so if you've ever seen this AWESOME movie, then you know that Marty's parents fell in love when Marty's father saved Marty's mother from being run over by a car and was wounded so she took care of him. Florence Nightingale syndrome is what people call it when the person who is taking care of a wounded person (in this case, Zoro) falls in love with their "patient" (in this case, Sanji).

Okay, question time! If Zoro and Sanji were normal people and went to high school, what "clique" do you think they'd each be in?


1st Edit: August 2nd 2015