Author's Note: Okay first of all, I watched The Breakfast Club recently and that is the reason for the marks Sanji has, even if they were never mentioned before. I felt so bad for that poor nerd, I mean everyone else got a girl and he's just there writing a paper. And he was the suicidal one! I totally over-analyzed the movie, but that aside ... Sanji talks about a voice in his head. If you haven't read Strong, it's the encounter of how he got that burn mark of his and it's basically how Sanji used to experience the voice. I'm kinda still in shock. Over 200 thousand words and 200 reviews ... I really didn't think this story would be this successful. This story has officially beat out all of my others with the most reviews, favourites and follows. I don't own One Piece, this chapter is short, chapter 32 is written, chapter 33 is giving me hell. I will be honest, my mother was a nurse for a certain amount of time but I know nothing about hospitals. My brother smoked but he stopped about six years ago, I don't know what it's like to stop smoking, or to start since I like to think of my body as free of contaminants ... Moving onwards, with that said, everything that's in this story is based off of assumptions. I did some research on Sanji's condition, despite the fact that I sort of have it (only when I have a really bad cold, it kinda comes back) and tried my best at this portrayl. Sorry this chapter is also short. Chapter 32 is really long though! Oh yeah and HAPPY BIRTHDAY PERCY JACKSON! (Yup, I read and watch EVERYTHING.)
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 for this chapter of Beautiful Disaster:
Mentions of past self-harm
Chapter 31: Try To Quit
Sitting in the white waiting room of the hospital was pure torture. The walls were white, the chairs were uncomfortable and the fucking nurse wouldn't let Zoro into the fucking room.
He remembered teasing Sanji about how, with the way he was smoking, he'd end up in the hospital bed next. Fuck, he really wanted to take those words back. Had he jinxed it? Zoro wasn't superstitious, but still … God he felt restless and horrible, this was going to drive him absolutely insane.
The nurse came out of the room and instantly, Zoro jumped out of his chair. "Can I see him?"
"He says he has no last name," said the nurse with a puzzled expression on her face. "And he doesn't seem to have his medicare card or anything of that sort either. Who is he?"
"Can I see him?" Zoro repeated.
Her expression hardened. Whatever Sanji said about women being beautiful was bullshit to Zoro, all he wanted to do was see him and now this fucking hag was in his way. "What's your relation to him?"
"I'm his boyfriend."
The woman's nose crinkled.
Oh. So she's one of those.
"Only those who are family of the patient can—"
"He has no fucking family," Zoro snapped. "No blood relative and his guardian is off who knows where, probably at some chef conference in Germany or some shit like that!"
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to calm down—"
"I will not fucking calm down!" Zoro screamed. He pinched the bridge of his nose, realizing that yelling wouldn't get him anywhere with this woman. "Look, I just want to see him. Can't you let me do that? Is his condition serious? Does he need medication? What is going on?!"
"Sir, I know you're upset, but I'm going to need you to be level-headed about this," the nurse said slowly. "We can't have you frantically causing the patient to go through more stress, he seems to be acting strangely as it is." She shook her head. "We've run a diagnosis already,—"
"Then what is it?" Zoro asked. "What's going on? Is it lethal? Is he going to die?"
"It's nothing like that, but we prefer for the patients themselves to tell their family— or I suppose, in your case … significant others …" The way she said it was as though each word was poison. She looked Zoro up and down and shook her head. "In any case, it's better for the patient to inform whomever they choose about their condition, they prefer the decision to tell others than them being informed without their knowledge."
"Can I see him?" Zoro asked. This woman was making him panic. He was expecting the worse, he was expecting to find Sanji on his death bed. He needed to talk to him, or else his heart might leap out of his throat. "I just … I need to see him."
The woman's mouth was set in a firm line. "Okay. But, before I let you see him, I have a question for you."
"What?" Zoro was ready to answer anything, if they'd let him see him.
"He's a smoker, isn't he?" she asked. "There was a cigarette near him and his voice sounds a little hoarse. He said it's natural."
"He's a chain-smoker, yeah, why?" Zoro asked distractedly.
"How long has he been smoking?"
Zoro didn't understand how this was important, but he tried to remember that night when Sanji had sat down with him and spoke about his past. He was thirteen when he started, right? "Ten years? Around?"
She nodded and bit her lip, looking the slightest bit worried. What did that mean? Was she worried because Sanji had been smoking for so long? That he had started so young? Or was this something else entirely?
The woman nodded once more before opening the door. "You may enter."
Zoro said nothing and entered the room. It was familiar, all wards in the hospital looked the same. He turned around to thank her, but she had shut the door and was walking off down the hall.
Zoro turned back around and walked to the foot of Sanji's bed. The cook looked pale. Paler than usual. He was lying in a hospital robe with a frown on his face. One of his hands were tapping on the silver rail on the side of the bed that kept patient from falling over and the other swept across his gown, over and over, in a motion that looked familiar to Zoro. He was trying to reach for his pack of cigarettes but they weren't there. The gown had no pockets so it almost looked like he was dusting off non-existent dirt.
There was silence before Zoro cleared his throat, but Sanji beat him to it.
"Fucking bastards took my pack," was all the blond said.
"So …" Zoro rocked on his heels. He didn't know what to tell him, what he should say so instead, he said nothing. He was pretty sure Sanji didn't even know what he had said, hadn't heard him considering the way he had promptly passed out almost immediately afterwards.
"What happened?" asked Sanji. "After I passed out, I mean."
Zoro bit his lip. "I … well I started yelling …"
Zoro's voice was caught in this throat, unable to speak. He couldn't find words, the only thing going through his head at the moment was to splash water in Sanji's face and have him look him in the eyes again, properly. He didn't care about an answer to his confession, he didn't want one, he just wanted Sanji to open his eyes again.
"Sanji," he choked out, feeling his body limp in his arms. Fuck, what did this mean? He was having a serious panic attack. His words got jumbled, he tried to yell for help, but instead he ended up choking. He gripped the cook tightly and leaned him against the porch railing. He gently hit him across the face, tapping more than anything. "Sanji, Sanji," he said in a soft voice, trying to keep the panic out of his tone. "Sanji, can you hear me?"
Of course he couldn't fucking hear him, his eyes had rolled into the back of his head and his face looked blue! He could see Sanji's chest rising and falling, but it was slow, he was struggling. Fuck, he knew something was wrong this morning!
"Nami! Luffy! Usopp! Call an ambulance!" he yelled. He didn't want to shake Sanji too hard, for fear of hurting him and he knew that if he tried CPR, he would fail horribly at it. He didn't know what to do, so instead he just stayed there, on his knees in front of the passed out Sanji, holding his hand tightly.
Nami rushed onto the porch, obviously having heard the urgency in Zoro's voice and took one look at Sanji before taking out her cell phone.
She began to talk to an operator while Luffy and Usopp ran onto the porch as well. Luffy dropped down to his knees next to Zoro."What happened?" he asked, "what's going on?"
"I don't know," Zoro said, feeling the urge to cry. It wasn't even because he was sad, it was because he was frustrated. That Sanji had just collapsed without any warning, without any indication and he couldn't keep a calm head, he was just panicking and there was nothing he could do … "Fuck, Nami, we need an ambulance!"
"I know!" she screamed at him, hurriedly speaking to the operator.
Usopp was freaking out as well, but he was able to show his mental break down. He was mumbling to himself, pacing, screaming, pulling out his hair. Zoro felt as though it were his duty to remain calm, but his heart was racing a thousand miles per minute and he felt the sudden and undeniable urge to puke. He wasn't sure how long he could deal with this, how long he'd be able to look at Sanji this way.
Was this what it was like for Sanji? To see Zoro unconscious, to feel as though his heart was being squeezed tightly, trying to kill him from the inside out? Was this what it was like to see the one you loved in so much pain?
He raised a hand to Sanji's cheek. He was cold. Fuck, he was freezing. He tried to breathe, but he found he was having trouble. He was panting, breathing too quickly, sucking in more air before he was finished. It was taking all he had not to cry, not to shed a tear but by God did he want to.
It was ten minutes before the ambulance arrived and it seemed as though Sanji had stopped breathing entirely.
They let Zoro ride with him in the ambulance and hooked Sanji up to a machine that helped him breathe. The entire time he sat there holding Sanji's hand tightly, wondering what on Earth had happened, trying not to freak out. He highly doubted that'd be good for Sanji, should he wake up in the middle of the ride to the hospital.
He never did.
When they got there, Zoro was rushed out of the ambulance and Sanji was forced into several testing rooms. He was asked numerous questions, what was the patient's name, did he have proper health insurance, was he healthy before hand? How old was he, how long had he been acting like this, was there anything he did in his daily life that may trigger such a reaction?
And then after about an hour of questioning, Zoro was put in the waiting room with his leg tapping against the floor constantly, trying to get himself under control until that damn nurse came by.
"And uh yeah, that's how I'm here," Zoro said slowly.
"How long was I out for? The nurse wouldn't tell me. I woke up maybe an hour ago," Sanji said.
"About …" Zoro counted in his head. "You've been out for nearly nine hours. It's March 2nd still, but it's nearly midnight."
"Were you … you were here the whole time?" Sanji asked in a quiet voice.
"Yeah …"
"What about Usopp? Luffy? Nami?"
"The ambulance said that only one person was allowed to ride with the patient and they all said I should go, since I've known you the longest …" Zoro turned his head away. He could still see Sanji's fingers tapping and reaching for a smoke, even from the corner of his eye. He was literally going through the motions.
"Do you know what I have?"
Zoro shook his head. "The nurse said it was up to you to tell me … But you don't … you don't have cancer, do you?" Zoro asked. "I mean I know those cigarettes are cancer sticks but really when I said you'd go to an early grave, I was joking! I don't want … I'd never want …"
Sanji laughed lightly, but it sounded a tad strained. "No, I don't have cancer," he said, rollin his eyes. "You really do imagine the worse case scenario, don't you, Marimo?"
Zoro played with his fingers, fiddling his thumbs and cracking his knuckles.
Sanji stared at his hands as he popped an air bubble in his right index finger. "That'll give you arthritis you know," he said.
"Myth," Zoro answered. "It's just very annoying."
"That it is," Sanji said. "That it is."
"You know, the longer you delay telling me, the worse things I'm going to think. Now I'm wondering if you have pneumonia or leukaemia or if you're anemic, or if you've discovered you have diabetes and you neglected to tell me, or that you're one of those hopeless cases who only have six months to live—"
"Asthma."
Zoro blinked. "Asthma?"
"Yeah."
Zoro smiled. "Oh thank God!" He let out a light nervous chuckle. "I totally thought you were going to die, you scared the shit out of me," he said. "You can't do that to me anymore, you can't, you realize that? I nearly died, nearly had a heart attack. I'm twenty-three, I can't have heart attacks at this age!"
Sanji shook his head. "I don't know, they're giving me an inhaler, I'm being told specifically not to smoke …" Sanji's eye twitched a little at that. "I have to avoid all possible triggers … They took away my fucking pack Zoro!" he screamed. "I'm going to go insane! I've never gone this long without a smoke, not unless I was sleeping!"
"Hey," Zoro said, reaching over the bed and taking Sanji's hand that was on the rail, stopping it from tapping. "You went thirteen years without it, you can go another thirteen. And thirteen after that because then I know you won't be smoking, which means you'll have at least twenty-six years afterwards to survive and live, and maybe another twenty-six afterwards."
"Ahou, then I'd be somewhere around a hundred years old," Sanji snapped. "And it was easy those first thirteen years because I didn't know it existed!" He shook his head.
"You became reliant on them, right? To calm yourself down," Zoro said. "Because of them." He didn't say their names, didn't mention them with actual nouns. Instead, he held on tightly as Sanji squeezed his hand. "That threat's gone, you know it. You don't need it to relieve yourself of that pressure, the pressure's gone. Maybe the addiction's still there, but we can work around it. Sanji, you're going to get through this. I don't think something as small as asthma's going to beat you."
Sanji rolled his eyes. "Easy for you to say!"
"Okay," Zoro said, letting go of Sanji's hand. "How about I propose a deal with you?"
Sanji stared at him. "What kind of deal?"
"If you stop smoking," Zoro said slowly, "say, we start small and say you go a day without cigarettes, then I'll touch you. I'll kiss you, I'll let you kiss me, I'll let you touch me. Sound fair?"
"Why can't I just do it now?" Sanji asked, reaching for Zoro's hand but Zoro pulled back. He didn't want to, but he did, ignoring the slightly hurt look in Sanji's eyes.
"Because then you have no motivation," Zoro replied. "You want it, don't you?" he asked. "You want me to touch you, right?"
Zoro felt his heart stop in his chest. He knew he craved Sanji's touch, he wanted to feel the man against him, feel his soft skin, taste his lips. But still, it left him wondering, did Sanji want it? Most of the time, if not all of the time, Zoro initiated all of their kisses, all of their touches. What if Sanji was just responding to him because he felt bad for him? His breath caught in his throat as he waited for an answer from the blond, trying not to show his nervousness.
Sanji bit his bottom lip and looked away from Zoro.
Zoro felt himself deflate, ready to get up, tell Sanji in a tight voice that he'd get his coat and go and leave before the sweetest cake he had ever tasted came back up his throat when Sanji spoke.
"Maybe," he whispered quietly.
"Maybe?" Zoro repeated. Maybe wasn't a yes, but he could work with maybe. Maybe meant there was a possibility, a possibility he could get Sanji as addicted to his kisses as he was to his.
Sanji's cheeks were flushing red. "Well I mean … Marimo …" He trailed off and Zoro realized he wasn't done talking. "I … I wouldn't kiss you back if I hated it …" He seemed to be turning even redder with each word. "And I mean … I wouldn't … I wouldn't have even thought of doing that if you repulsed me …"
Was Sanji talking about sex? No, that couldn't be it. The blond wasn't ready for something like that yet. Then … wait, did he mean that "gift" of his to Zoro?
Zoro's brain tried to process everything before he anxiously said, "So … do we have a deal?"
"And if I don't make the deal?" Sanji asked, the red on his cheeks slowly dimming.
"Then … well then you'll just continue to give me heart attacks like that and I'll have to drag you to the hospital when you get a serious attack like that," Zoro said with a shrug. "Course, I'd prefer if that wouldn't be the case …"
Sanji nodded slowly. "Okay … deal."
It was perhaps the next morning that Zoro regretted what he had told Sanji.
He was on his way to the hospital, thanks to Sanji's Christmas gift of a GPS, though of course, it wasn't his fault that left and right were apparently the exact opposite of what he had thought. It was when going through traffic that he realized that Sanji wasn't limited to Zoro. Of course, Zoro didn't hang out with many people at all, his line of work made it so that there were either friends or enemies, no real acquaintances since he never truly bothered to go anywhere besides his apartment, Luffy's house and Partys. This meant the likely hood of him finding someone who he wanted to mess around with was pretty fucking low. Sanji on the other hand …
Sanji was meant to be a social butterfly, it was obvious. The way he was so at ease around others whereas Zoro awkwardly walked around and spoke in a mixed jumble of words, it was clear he was an extrovert whereas Zoro was an introvert forced to interact with others because of the friends he had made who just loved being social. Too bad Zoro liked them too much to find more anti-social people. He would have no problem finding someone else to talk to in that big hospital, would probably make loads of friends. Zoro wasn't an idiot, Sanji was very attractive, hell, he was attractive enough to turn Zoro gay (if he had even been straight in the first place). Surely those in the hospital wouldn't neglect to notice that.
Sanji was bisexual, he had said it himself. He still liked the girls, still commented on Nami's beauty and on others with no visible shame. He had made friends with Moodie, who was older than him by at least six years and she had wanted to pursue a relationship with him. It was clear that he attracted women, as well as men, even if he wasn't trying.
Zoro gripped the steering wheel tighter and turned right when the GPS told him to. Wait, no, that had been left, hadn't it?
Visiting hours started at ten and it was now nine forty-five. Zoro still had some way to go before he was able to see Sanji and now he was worried out of his mind that some other person, some nice, smooth-talking, beautiful woman would get to him first. Perhaps the reason that nurse had been so upset wasn't because she was homophobic, but rather, upset that Sanji was tied down to a man.
Sanji … Sanji wouldn't cheat on him, would he?
He quickly made what he was pretty sure was an illegal U-turn and went back to the transit, taking the other right this time, the right right, and continued down the road.
He was worrying too much, right? Surely, Sanji was a good man, he was loyal, he could be faithful …
But then again, the cooks had done horrible things to him. It was a miracle Sanji was even with Zoro, considering he was part of the sex that had stolen one of Sanji's most treasured things. If anything, it would make sense if Sanji was turned off of men entirely. But he said he didn't hate it, right? But Sanji had also admitted he had never been in a relationship before, which meant that surely he wanted to experiment? He had originally considered himself to be heterosexual, which meant that women were the apple of his eye, but he had never done anything with a woman. Maybe he wanted to try it out, see if he liked it better than men …
Zoro gritted his teeth. He was freaking out over nothing, wasn't he?
He hadn't slept much the night before, knowing that they were keeping Sanji in the hospital for a few more days in order to make him go through therapy, something that had to do with helping him stop smoking.
Make him stop smoking …
Maybe it wouldn't take him that long, it was twenty-four hours, surely Sanji could handle it? It would've been an extreme to say that he wanted Sanji to stop smoking for an extended period of time, like say, a week, a day wasn't too much to ask, right? Maybe Zoro wouldn't have to wait too long …
The moment Zoro stepped into the hospital room, he knew he'd have to wait.
Sanji was fiddling with his lighter, flicking it on and off, watching the flames. Zoro knew in that second that if Zoro were to hand him a pack of cigarettes, he'd light it up instantly. The blond was standing in front of the giant window of the room, leaning against it. He was in his usual clothes now, but he still seemed to be digging his hand in his pocket, still expecting a pack to be there.
"Morning."
Sanji jumped at Zoro's voice.
"Don't fucking do that," he told him with a scowl. "You caught me off guard," he complained. "Why're you here?"
"Why do you have a lighter?" Zoro asked, raising an eyebrow. Immediately, a horrible realization occurred to him. "Roll up your sleeves."
"What?" Sanji asked, staring at him in confusion. "No."
"You know when you refuse, that just makes me more certain something's wrong," Zoro pointed out.
Sanji sighed and rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm your boyfriend, can't you just trust me on this? I'm not getting high on anything, no heroin, no pointless crap like that." He rubbed his arm and Zoro's eyes followed the movement. "What?" he asked.
"Sanji, roll up your sleeves."
"I'm not doing anything!" Sanji repeated, "I'm telling you! It's nothing!"
"Sanji!"
Sanji sighed and rolled up his left sleeve. Aside from the occasional white scars near his wrist and a few burn marks from cooking, Zoro saw nothing strange. That was, until he saw about three circular dots on Sanji's forearm. He wasn't good at math or anything like that, but he frowned, trying to figure out what it was from. There were different kinds of burns, some he could guess form Sanji being too close to the oven, or spilling something. These three dots though were different. Wait, no, there were four.
"What are these from?" Zoro asked, pointing to them.
Sanji turned his head away.
"Sanji, what are these from?"
"Cigarettes," Sanji said in a soft voice.
"You fucking burnt yourself using your own cigarettes?" Zoro demanded. "I thought you smoked so you could ignore the pain, I thought it was so you could focus on something else. What the fuck were you doing, burning yourself with them?!"
"It was …" Sanji sighed. "I don't know, I didn't do it often …" He shrugged. "Sometimes ash would just fall, you know? And I don't know, I just … I didn't have anywhere to put out the cigarette and if I used my fingers then I'd have trouble holding things and—"
"So you drove the fucking cigarette into your arm?!"
"It … it seemed like a smart idea at the time. I've only ever done it a few times," Sanji said. "I was seventeen, okay? I haven't done it since. Besides … it's gone."
"Gone?" Zoro repeated. "What do you mean 'gone'? What's 'it'?"
Sanji shook his head. "You'll think I'm crazy …"
"I already think you're crazy, you've got nothing left to lose," Zoro told him. He wanted to hold him, to pull him close, but he had told him he wouldn't touch him until he had stopped. He could wait. He could survive a few days without his touch, or was he really that addicted to him?
"I …" Sanji sighed and leaned against the window frame, turning away from Zoro. "After a while at the Baratie, when the cooks started to call me names like ugly and fat and I don't know, overweight and shit like that, I … I started hearing this voice."
Zoro bit his bottom lip. "You know what they say Sanji, about hearing voices, don't you?"
"I know that," Sanji said and though his hand was in his pocket, Zoro could see it fist inside the material. "You think I didn't fucking know? It was just … it was kind of like having Patty and Carne right next to me twenty-four seven, telling me the same things over and over again, like a record on repeat. You're fat, it told me. You're ugly. You're too thin."
"It told you you were fat and too thin at the same time?"
"I don't fucking know, it was fucked up. I was fucked up …" Sanji trailed off. "Anyway, it kept on like that. It was like no matter what I did, I just wanted it to stop, I wanted it to go away and it just fucking wouldn't. I tried everything. I started to go on a diet for about six months, hoping it'd shut up about my stupid weight. It didn't work. I tried to clean myself up even better, probably the damn reason I own so many suits … It didn't work. It always found soothing to poke at me for and when it realized I was trying to counteract it, trying to fix myself … It started to talk about things I couldn't change. My hair, my eyes, my body figure, my legs, my arms, my posture, the way I spoke, the sound of my voice, the way I would walk … I considered plastic surgery just to get rid of it …"
"But Sanji—"
"I know it's stupid," Sanji cut him off. He took a deep breath before continuing. "Of course, it was never happy with me. That fucking voice just telling me all the things I did wrong, how others could do better, how Zeff would be ashamed … The only thing it seemed to like was when I was in pain, as if all my faults and all my short-comings could just disappear, leak out with the blood." He shook his head. "I'm sick, I'm fucking sick … A fucking bodiless voice seemed to talk to me and drove me to the brink of insanity, made me change myself, made me overly-self-conscious, made me second guess everything and even though I knew somewhere, somewhere in the back of my mind that another scar on my wrist would do me no good, that I was already scarred enough, it would convince me that yeah, I was too scarred. I was so scarred, I was beyond hope so what did another line matter in the grand scheme of things?"
"How … how long has it been there?" Zoro asked, scared to know the answer.
"How long?" Sanji repeated. "Years … fucking years it's been haunting me …" He shook his head, his hand diving for a smoke, but coming up blank. "It didn't stop when you took me in. In fact, I think it wanted me to turn against you. It tried to tell me everything you did was out of pity, it was all for the sake of charity …"
"That's not it, you know that Sanji—"
"Yeah, I know." His voice was quiet, taking on a softer tone. "It told me I was disgusting, throwing myself on you on Valentine's … That I was weak …" Sanji held up his hand. "Do you see that mark?" he asked. "The one on my thumb? I burnt myself by accident," he said. "When I was lighting a cigarette. I made that mark about two weeks ago. A few days after Valentine's. And that's the last one I've ever made. It's the last one I'm ever going to make." He turned to Zoro, tears in his eyes. "It's gone, that fucking voice is gone now. I'm not going to hurt myself Zoro, you don't have to worry. I … I won't do it."
Zoro bit his lip, feeling himself have the urge to pull Sanji in, to hug him tightly and not let him go. He stopped himself though.
Sanji mirrored Zoro's action, causing the green-haired man to let out a tortured groan. "Sanji, you're killing me here …"
Sanji looked at him with an emotion in his eyes that Zoro couldn't place, but it shook him entirely. "Zoro," he said softly, "I really want to kiss you right now."
Zoro felt his heart stop. Sanji was not helping his urge to give up on the deal and just hold him, just to touch him …
"Twenty-four hours," he said. "Twenty-four hours," he reminded him.
Sanji frowned. "Fuck, that's a long time."
"Depends on when you had your last smoke," Zoro pointed out.
Sanji gritted his teeth. "Fuck …" He turned his head away. "They're letting me out tomorrow you know. What is it with us and spending birthdays in the hospital?" he asked with a light laugh.
Zoro shrugged. "Dunno, but how about we go to the cafeteria? New day, new people. New ratings."
Sanji grinned.
"Does nicotine count?"
Zoro dropped his jacket on the couch, giving Sanji a strange look. They had just returned from the hospital and the entire drive there, Sanji had been silent. What was this about nicotine? "What are you talking about?"
"Does nicotine … if I have nicotine, does that count as smoking?"
"Depends on how you got it in your system," Zoro said.
Sanji rolled up his right sleeve and Zoro saw two small rectangular squares that were probably the same colour as skin, but as Sanji's was so pale, they stuck out like a sore thumb.
"What are those?"
"Nicotine patches," Sanji said. Zoro expected him to pull his sleeve back down, but he kept it up, rolled to his elbow, the patches on his forearm. "They're for people trying to quit smoking," he explained. "They made me go through therapy and gave me a couple of patches, told me it was kind of like smoking, you still got the nicotine in small doses, it's suppose to ease you off of it." He shook his head. "I think I'm going to run out of them in less than a week, but still …"
"When was the last time you smoked?"
"I'm asking you if nicotine counts," Sanji said. "Otherwise my answer changes."
"Patches don't count, when was the last time you smoked a cigarette?" Zoro asked hurriedly.
Sanji took a moment to think. "Over forty-eight hours," he replied.
That was all Zoro needed to wrap his arms around Sanji and pull him into a kiss.
The taste was still on Sanji's tongue, the nicotine, the spices. Bitter, not sweet. The fact that Sanji was showing Zoro his skin, showing his arm with all of its small imperfections without a second thought, it made Zoro hold onto him tighter, pull him even closer. He let his fingers trail down Sanji's cheek as he gently took Sanji's lower lip in between his own and sucked. Sanji gasped and Zoro entered his mouth, turning to stone remembering it wrapped around his cock.
"Fuck, Sanji," he gasped, moving from the cook's lips to his neck. "You should've told me sooner."
Sanji gripped Zoro's hair as Zoro burrowed his head into Sanji's neck, licking at his soft skin. Sanji let out a sigh. "I wasn't … sure about the n-nicotine," he said in a husky voice.
Zoro paid close attention to the way he was breathing. Was he wheezing? He was taking deep lungfuls of air, but what for? Was he just naturally breathless or was he seriously having trouble breathing? When he let out a moan as Zoro bit his neck, he knew he didn't have to worry.
For now, Sanji's breathing was normal. It was perfect and Zoro wanted to hear more of the sounds Sanji made without worrying about whether or not his partner couldn't breathe.
Zoro wasn't an idiot, he knew Sanji had a long way to go. That the blond needed to seriously go through a lot more than just nicotine patches before he was done, before he was considered safe from asthma attacks like the one that had Zoro's heart clenching horribly. But for now, for now they were perfect like this.
Maybe Sanji hadn't heard him before he had passed out, maybe he hadn't acknowledged Zoro's confession. That didn't matter right now. All he knew was that he didn't regret saying them, that they were true.
Aishiteru. Aishiteru Sanji. Now hurry up and fall in love with me so I can hear you say it too.
Author's Note #2: The thank-yous! God I write long answers to reviews.
JustCallMeLucie: The problem is this: Sanji's easy to shop for. Zoro on the other hand ... Oh God, I'm so glad I got his birthday out of the way, there goes buying other really hard gifts ... He'd probably also ask why everyone's turning blue and red too. Death Note was one of the first animes I watched, knowing it was anime. Besides Pokémon, I saw Bakugan and I was like, "this is cool!" (cause i was like, in 4th grade at the time) and "why's the art-style so different? It's so awesome!" and then Death Note, I knew was anime and I just remember buying the first volume (2 in one! Yay!) and our cleaning lady who comes twice a week was like, "he's cute!" and I was at that point where L introduces himself and I was like, "I'm not going to agree with her, I'm not," and I managed to keep my mouth shut.
Guest: Why would I kill Sanji? Zoro would probably die, he's gotten to the point where he'd probably die without Sanji's cooking! Oh God, I got into yaoi about like, a year and a half ago, I watched Naruto before that and I just remember my first reaction to that kiss was like, "Oh God, that's disgusting!" and my friend was like, "it's for humour's sake" and now when I watch it, I'm like, "oh God that's so sweet!" I read this Naruto and Sasuke story called One where it says that Sasuke paid someone to bump into Naruto, I squealed so much at that.
versora: I didn't think of anime movies, to be honest, but thanks for telling me. I haven't seen Lupin III, but I know there's a cross-over with Detective Conan (yay Shinichi!) so I'll be looking into that.
Tulula-Mate: Thank you! I'm really glad you like it!
Shizuka Taiyou: Would you call getting asthma sick, exactly? I was just sick and tired of Sanji smoking and having no consequence for it whatsoever, I just remember when I first met his character, I was like, "what the heck? He's going to an early grave, smoking all the time!" I love that Sanji smokes, but hate that there's never anything that comes as a consequence for it.
lilcutieprincess: Okay now for an anime marathon, that would mean that Sanji watches Love Stage ! !. Um, I don't think he does. I will find reasons for why Zoro has to watch it though. Course, I don't know if you were talking about the references in the chapter or the list of anime Zoro should be forced to watch. Zoro's reaction to the corset scene in Black Butler... Oh God, I love it.
Random Person: I should've used WordReference, it's what I use for Spanish class and I know it's at least a bit more reliable than Google Translate.
Guest #2: Yeah I thought about that. I was like, "DID I JUST GIVE SANJI AIDS?" and then I decided I didn't know enough about STDs to do that and I put symptoms into chapters 28, 29 and 30, so I was like, "no, let's not change it". Would you believe me though if I said I had school project on STDs where our teachers put a bunch of STDs names in a hat, put on the music from The Price is Right and called us down like we had just won something? Then they announced out STD to the whole class loudly and proudly. Trust me, I can't look at The Price is Right the same way again.
mandacub: I like it too, but at the same time, I like it when they do things that are only endearing if they're them, like Zoro making Sanji soup. He sucked at it, it tasted horrible and Sanji wanted to puke, but it was Zoro doing it so it made it sweet. Those are the odd romantic gestures I love the most.
Guest #3: Thank you! I try really hard to make the chapters at least 4000 words, which is why my barely 2000 word chapter 33 is pissing me off! MUST. WORK. HARDER!
VictoriaLovesmut: I've heard of that thing. It's shotacon isn't it? Um, the thing is, these would kind of have to be shows that Sanji watched, right? So uh, why would he watch that? I will look into it though.
So I figured out what I'm doing. I won't have an anime marathon of different animes, rather, I'll have the chapters as normal, but instead of mentioning a bunch of animes and having quick small reactions to them, it'll be an anime marathon of that anime. There will be several anime marathons so don't worry, I'll get to them all eventually. Somehow.
I have a question for you all now. Sanji and Zoro went off to play their "Rating Game", if you remember from chapter 19 (oh my God, I write a lot ...) it's a game where they see someone and then they give them a number from one to ten, ten being the highest, one being the lowest. The number is rating their attractiveness. Fractions are allowed in here. Now, if you were to rate both Zoro and Sanji, Zoro separately, Sanji separately and then them together, what would those ratings be?
