The muffled sound of some top-40's song on the radio drifted in from the crack underneath Zoro's door. More often than not, music meant it was lunch time. The collective out-of-tune singing that accompanied it, on the other hand, signified that everyone had decided to occupy the break room all at once. His eyes shifted to the bottom corner of his laptop screen; 12:43. Every day, like clockwork; couldn't they at least pick a better number to adhere to so closely? The time seemed so arbitrary.

Then again, what about their office wasn't completely arbitrary?

Perhaps skipping lunch that day would be a good idea. Zoro let out a heavy sigh, tapping his pencil against the desk in thought as he weighed his options. Food, or peace.

Tick tick tick.

Yeah, he could go without food.

...Tick.

Alright, fine, maybe he was a little hungry.

Scratch that; he was starving. Understandably so, considering he hadn't bothered to eat a damn thing since morning yesterday. Not that it was anyone's fault but his own, but that was likely the reason why he felt like he was running on fumes even though it was so early in the day. Yeah, food was definitely necessary. Having made up his mind for better or worse, he shoved himself away from his desk and stood to make his way for the door.

He paused momentarily as his attention shifted to the white shirt on the chair by the exit. It sat there completely untouched, meticulously folded and tied with a thin, silky blue string; like it belonged on a shelf in a ladies' underwear boutique or something. Two days, and he still hadn't bothered to bring it home; if he left it there much longer, it might start to collect dust.

The more he thought about the gesture, the stranger it seemed. The blond bastard sure did put in a lot of effort into the presentation of the shirt he'd complained was so "awful". And try as he might, Zoro couldn't forget the smug look of satisfaction on the man's face when he came to return it. "I washed it for you last night. No doubt it was the first time anyone's bothered to use fabric softener on your pathetic rags... Well, you'll thank me later," he'd said, as if he'd expected Zoro to give him a medal for his efforts. And then the guy had the gall to forego handing the damn thing to him, opting instead to drop it on the nearest possible surface and saunter off to god-knows-where to do who-the-hell-knows-what.

Who died and made him the king of fashion, anyway? Fuck him.

Ignoring the newly present sensation of cheap cotton chafing his forearms, he made a mental note to remember the stupid shirt on his way home later, and opened the door.

"Heeey, Zoro," he muttered to himself under his breath, mocking the blond's typical tone as he shuffled down the hallway. "If you let me shove my foot up your ass, I'll make you some coffee..." Not that the blond had ever actually suggested anything quite that ridiculous, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't absentmindedly had similar daydreams at least once.

But the handful of daydreams he'd allowed himself over the past few days were nothing at all like what he had to deal with in reality. Whereas the blond in his mind suggested sexy, borderline outrageous things in the most blunt way possible, the one that existed in the office down the hall demanded the most mundane things in a way that was almost downright sultry. When the one in his mind suggested a blowjob under the desk with the inflection one would use to ask to borrow a goddamn pencil, the one in real life asked to check his documents in the sort of tone he would use if they were starring in an old-timey porno. Frankly, he wasn't sure which one bothered him more.

The music from beyond the break room door had lowered to what he figured could be considered a reasonable volume, but the ambient noise had been replaced by equally loud chatter and microwave beeping that went on for ages, like the person whose food was in it was completely oblivious to the noise. The sound of metal chair legs grating against the floor tiles made him wince as he reached for the doorknob.

"I still can't for the life of me figure out how you did that!" Zoro paused, fingers slowly curling around the handle. The voice was one he recognized, but he couldn't place a name or face to it.

"Oi, I don't kiss and tell... What fun would that be?"

Zoro's breath caught in his throat, and he bit his lip to stifle a frustrated sigh as his eyes reflexively rolled despite nobody being there to see the gesture. He knew that voice. The less realistic part of him had been hoping that the blond had decided to skip out on the lunchtime festivities that day. Of course he didn't. For a split second, he wasn't so sure his lunch would really be worth the trouble. But he shook his head, inwardly grimacing as he steeled himself. What the hell was he, some sort of pushover? No way would he let the mere presence of anyone control him like that. He threw the door open with enough force to make it rattle, bringing the conversation inside to a grinding halt as everyone turned to him in shock.

"...O-Oh, speak of the devil! Hey, man!" The voice he couldn't place before, evidently, belonged to the guy with the long nose. But the man's name eluded him still... it was definitely something strange. Carhop? Laptop? No, that couldn't be right.

"Woah, Zoro? You're out of your room?" Luffy perked up, grinning excitedly as he swallowed a whole sandwich without so much as a single chew. Well, at least he could identify one person, right?

Zoro let the door click shut behind him. "Yeah, what of it?"

"I didn't realize you actually needed food to survive," the red-headed woman started, raising an eyebrow as he made his way to the fridge to dig out his lunch. "Pretty sure I've never seen you eat anything before. Go figure."

He simply snorted in response, taking a seat between her and Luffy. Her casual taunt was a moot point now that he was eating right in front of them, after all, wasn't it? For added effect, he gave her a pointed look as he took the first bite of his day-old, dried out rice. Her lips curled into an amused smile, and she rolled her eyes before turning back to her food.

"So, Zoro," the long-nose chimed in again, haphazardly waving a fork-full of noodles in the air in his direction. "Since you're here, fill us in on your side of the whole bet thing!"

Bet... Bet? The word rang a bell, but Zoro couldn't place the reason why. He spoke up again, mouth half-full of rice, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Really? Well, I mean, we made a bet with that smug jerk over there that he couldn't hold intimate contact with you for at least ten seconds. I never thought he could bring himself to do it, much less manage to convince you..." The guy trailed off, giving him an incredulous look from behind his thick, goggle-like glasses. "Wow, did you really not even know about it?"

Ah, that bet. Right. His brow furrowed as he let the information process; who the hell would arrange a bet with such weirdly specific terms? Then again, considering how often the lot of them seemed to be up to that sort of bullshit, it made sense that they'd have to try hard to keep it original.

"I have to admit, I'm impressed," the red-head mused, chin resting in her hand as her narrowing gaze flickered to the blond standing by the sink across the room. "Then again, we never got any real proof... He didn't lie about winning, did he?"

"What?!" Curly-brows looked downright appalled, reeling overdramatically as he slumped against the counter in shock. "I could never lie to you!"

"I wasn't asking you, I was asking him!"

Zoro was silent for a moment, giving the question some consideration. He really didn't feel like risking the torment that would no doubt befall him if he lied about what happened at the blond's expense; there was no way in hell he'd get away with that unscathed. Besides, the group had clearly already long since made up their own weird assumptions about him, so it couldn't hurt his reputation all that much more to just admit that it happened. Ten seconds wasn't much, after all. "...No, that guy wasn't lying."

"Damn. Guess that's that, then," the woman to his left sighed, puffing her cheeks a bit in defeat as she stood to drop her styrofoam plate in the trash. "My poor wallet..."

"Oh, of course I'll be letting you off the hook, my dear!" The blond cut in again, swooning as he dropped to his knee at her side. Zoro's eyebrow raised mid-chew when the man brought her hands into his. "The men still have to pay up, but you don't owe me anything! And the food today? Was it good?!"

"Yeah, yeah. It was perfect as always, thank you," she rolled her eyes with a tired grin, smoothly retracting her hands from his and pushing in the chair she'd been using before heading for the door. "I'm gonna get back to work. Don't take too long in here, guys; we fell behind a bit last week, and the boss is having none of that!"

"Ah, y'know, she's probably right..." The long-nose grumbled, scratching the back of his head before following in suit. "Come on, Luffy; I need some help bringing up some crates from the basement."

"Ohh, really? Sounds fun! Let's go!" Luffy's nearly-permanent smile brightened, and he dumped the remains of his plate down his esophagus in one inhuman gulp.

Zoro watched as half of the room disappeared through the door, taking another bite and swallowing thickly as the grains of rice simultaneously scratched and stuck to his throat with their refrigerator-hardened mushiness. The moment the door shut and he and the blond were completely alone, he promptly turned to Zoro with an exasperated sneer.

"Oi, moss head."

The man's expression actually looked pretty pissed off; that was new. Still, Zoro shot him back a glare of equal strength. "What?"

"'That guy'? You don't even know my fucking name, do you?"

Damn, he was perceptive. "No, I don't."

The blond's face deadpanned and he tilted his head to the side, glaring holes straight into him as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "It's Sanji."

"Sanji," Zoro repeated back, syllables rolling off his tongue with ease. The name was palatable, unlike the person it belonged to. It was smooth; almost sort of refined. Completely and utterly unlike the man himself.

"How could you not know that?" Sanji's nose scrunched in distaste as his gaze noticeably shifted back and forth between Zoro and his admittedly sad excuse for a lunch. He looked as if he wanted to make a rude remark about it, but was apparently too ticked off about his newest discovery to want to change the subject.

Zoro simply shrugged; he didn't really have a good answer for that. Scraping whatever he could manage to unstick from the bottom of the plastic container, he watched Sanji's visible eye follow the utensil to his mouth with an amusing look of horror. The man shivered almost imperceptibly as Zoro swallowed, either in revulsion or arousal, he wasn't sure which. "...Well, if it's any consolation, it's not just yours that I'm blanking on."

"You're joking, right? I knew you were antisocial, but this is fucking ridiculous!"

"It's not like I ever need to use names, anyway."

"Un-fucking-believable," Sanji groaned, rubbing his temples in frustration. "I can't believe you managed to get by this long without me."

Zoro said nothing, turning his attention back to the remnants of his food. If the guy was going to be a prick about it, then their conversation was over. He sure as hell didn't have to put up with that.

"...Alright, I'm only going to help you out this once, so listen up," Sanji began again, leaning back with his arms folded authoritatively over his chest. "That beautiful vision of perfection that just left is Nami; her and Usopp, the guy with the nose, are the accounting department. You already know Luffy and me, we're the same as you; clerks. The stunning woman always behind the front desk in the afternoon is Robin, and that guy who never shows up until the end of the day is Franky. He spends most of his time on the street, sharking for our money; you know how it is. The boss is Shanks... and I highly suggest you remember that name especially, if you plan on sticking around here. He's a nice guy, but he deserves respect."

Now that he mentioned it, those names did sound awfully familiar. Zoro made a mental note to remember them more carefully, this time. "What about that kid with the brown hair?"

"You mean Tony the intern? He's a part-timer. Only ever comes in on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He's got university classes to attend the other three days."

"And the tall guy that always wears sunglasses indoors?"

"That's Brook, the building manager. He and I go out drinking all the time, but I still haven't been able to figure out what the hell he does all day. It's a fucking mystery if I've ever seen one."

"Weird," Zoro hummed in response. "Well, thanks, I guess." Having long since devoured the last of his food, it didn't make much sense for him to sit around much longer, so he stood and gathered what few things of his littered the table.

Feet swinging idly in the air, Sanji let out a quiet exhale through his nose, and took a sip from his unlabeled to-go cup. "...You know, I used to spend weekdays working as a chef before I was conned into working in this fucking shitstain of a building."

Zoro glanced over at him in curiosity, momentarily blindsided by the change in topic. But Sanji's expression was warm; not bitter or pouting, like he was expecting. There was a smile on his face, not a sexy one, like he'd had when trying on Zoro's shirt, but one that was more complacent. Almost reserved, in a way.

Zoro feigned indifference, setting his belongings back on the table in a slightly neater pile than they'd been in before and turned to face him again with an unimpressed look. "I don't recall ever asking for your life story."

"Shut up and be grateful that I'm taking pity on your uncharismatic ass. Sit down."

Raising an eyebrow, he didn't put up a fight and complied, sitting down backwards in the chair he'd occupied before with his arms resting on the back. Was Sanji actually trying to be nice? It was a surprisingly relaxing change of pace from the banter he'd been getting so used to lately. "...You like food, then?" He asked, in a lackluster attempt to play along.

"That's certainly one way of putting it," Sanji muttered in response, adding a quiet "if you're a simpleton" to the end.

"So, why are you here? Doesn't it suck to not spend the day doing what you like?"

Sanji simply shook his head, leaning to the side to reach something from a plate on the counter that Zoro hadn't noticed before. It was almost empty, holding still a handful a dark brown squares; chocolate, of some sort? "Nah, I still cook all the time... I have a life outside of here, obviously. Don't you do anything that's not work related?"

When he put it that way, that certainly made sense. "Well, yeah," Zoro nodded, flashing him a smile. That was one thing he definitely didn't mind talking about. "Kendo. I'm a teacher on the weekends." And a damn good one, at that. While he didn't think himself to be a particularly bad office clerk, his real talents were bound to his foster dad's dojo.

Sanji perked up a bit, not trying to hide the fact that he was pleased by the new information. "Oh, really? That suits you, actually... I'm into martial arts, as well. You should teach me a lesson or two, sometime."

Zoro simply snorted, looking the guy over incredulously. If Sanji handled his swords the way he handled his conversations, he wouldn't let the man within a mile of his dojo in a million years.

The blond seemed to accept his silence, shrugging and breaking eye contact during the lull in dialogue to turn his attention back to the plate. He leaned back against the counter again, popping a chocolate past his lips with a content sigh. "...Hey, you should try one of these. Not to brag, but they came out pretty good."

And how, exactly, was that not bragging? "Yeah, no thanks... I'm not really into sweet stuff."

Sanji rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, his angular shoulders sagging along with the gesture as he bit into another one. "It's dark chocolate, you shitty cretin. It's supposed to be more bitter than sweet."

Was Zoro supposed to have known that or something? Fucking know-it-all. "In that case… sure, whatever. Why not."

"Hmm, but I only have one left," Sanji mused lowly, before a devilish smile crept across his lips and he clamped down the last piece between his teeth.

Zoro choked back a unidentifiable noise as the blond stared him down with that shitty smug grin he always wore when he was plotting something. That look spelled trouble every time without fail. "You... tryin' to mess with me or something?"

"Oh, I would never. Let's make a game of it," he managed to say without dropping the chocolate piece. "Take it. If you touch me, you lose... Or, are you too scared?"

Scared? Absolutely fucking not. "What happens when I win?"

Sanji's only visible eyebrow raised, and he contemplated the question for a short moment. "If you win," he started, stressing the "if" that Zoro had so astutely neglected to use. "Then, I'll make you lunch tomorrow. Something to replace that off-white pile of garbage you inhaled today. How's that?"

"You're on."

Sanji smiled brightly around the chunk of chocolate, taking a few strides over to Zoro's seat and dropping to his eye level.

Zoro's gaze shifted cautiously between Sanji's lips and his visible eye as the man shifted closer; his confidence wavered slightly as he realized he was unsure how he was supposed to approach something like this. He'd seen kids do this sort of thing in high school before, but he'd never tried it himself. Before he had the chance to mull it over, his field of vision was overwhelmed by dull gold and blue; his lungs filled with Sanji's smoldering exhale as he took a heavy breath in. Even if they'd been about to actually kiss or something, people usually closed their eyes at some point, right? But the blond didn't; the eye contact at such close quarters was all sorts of unsettlingly intimate.

Zoro's fingers twitched in objection, loudly berating him for not clutching the man's toned forearms, or his slender hips, or even the fabric of his shirt; anything to get his muscles working and shake the tension from his veins. But "no touching" was the only damn rule he needed to follow, and he wasn't one to take a loss so easily. Begrudgingly, he forced his eager hands to remain at his sides.

A hair-raising shock shot down his spine and into his toes as their noses brushed ever so slightly, and Zoro leaned back by reflex. Did that count as touching? Nothing in Sanji's demeanor had changed, so he assumed the game must have still been on. Good.

Eyes flickering up to the other man's again, Zoro's heart leapt in his chest as he registered the heated, half-lidded look on his face. He immediately turned his attention back to the task at hand, closing the space between them again with renewed daring. Dexterously adjusting his trajectory to avoid another collision, the chocolate prodded his lips with a soft nudge just before his nose could make contact with the other man's cheek. Zoro could have sworn he felt the tip of Sanji's tongue brush over his as he gratuitously prodded the chocolate over into his mouth; if the guy was actually trying to make the challenge, for lack of a better word, challenging, he sure wasn't doing a very good job.

It tasted good; damn good, but not allowing himself to touch the man's lips left an empty feeling in his chest that he couldn't fucking believe existed in the first place. His gut wrenched violently in protest as he leaned back in his seat and chewed.

"What do you think? Pretty smooth, huh?" Sanji asked, very obviously proud of himself as he stood up and stepped back. His toothy smile exuded an impression of victory, but that tint of red hidden behind his overgrown bangs didn't go unnoticed.

Zoro took a moment to savor the taste, then swallowed thickly, taking a bit longer to recover than he would have liked to admit. "Ha... yeah, I guess. If you're into that sort of thing." He couldn't even manage to convince himself that he was referring to the chocolate. "You let me win, didn't you?"

"Why do you think that?"

"You didn't even bother to set a condition for if I lost."

Sanji's visible eye widened for a split second, having apparently not realized this himself, and his hand drifted up to idly twirl a lock of hair around his finger; a nervous tick Zoro was starting to pick up on. "...Alright, you got me. But it was just this once. And only because I pity your stomach. You like rice dishes, right? How does onigiri sound?"

Zoro wasn't too keen on taking a win he might not have earned on his own, but he let it slide. To object any further would make it seem like he was actually taking the blond's bullshit seriously. Which, of course, he wasn't. At all. So he nodded and gave him a half smile, gathering his things from the table again as he stood. "Sounds fine by me, cook. Now, come on, it's about time we got back to work."

Alright, alright. I fell in love with this AU damn it. :T Thanks again, guys… See you soon!