Me: Sorry if I'm taking a long time, I just want to make it really long for you guys. To Guest and anyone else, Sanji uses his hands, but not in ways that could potentially damage them, like fighting. And, seeing as Zoro has little strength (meaning that Zoro couldn't break out of the grip and otherwise cramp or strain Sanji's hands) it takes close to none effort to restrain him. Like a conscious rag doll. Other than that, he uses his hands daily.

Hiding Never Solves Every Problem

"Does Kenshi-san seem different to you this morning?" Robin questioned in interest, stirring her coffee lazily. Sanji stiffened by the counter, but continued to prepare a low optional breakfast for the crew. There was no possible way Robin could have known, unless she'd seen it herself, which he doubted immensely.

Nami frowned as the tangerine juice in her hand suddenly became obsolete, "What are you talking about?"

"I meant in a more fragile, antisocial type of way."

"Well, he did seem a bit...passive when I told him to take watch. Normally, I'd have to threaten to increase his debt."

Robin flashed a smug grin in her direction, not taking her highly amused eyes off of the coffee mug. "Threaten, or act?"

"Oi, I don't do it every single time! I'm not unreasonable. Besides, I know he'll probably never be able to pay me back until he's fifty. Money is money, no matter how long I must wait for it," the navigator waved dismissively. Robin hummed, glancing at the tense cook, who was creating a large container of sweet rice milk. She watched his years of practiced movements transform from fluent to rigid once the topic of Zoro emerged. "How do you fair in this, Cook-san?" the archaeologist asked, "Did you two get into another fight?"

Sanji thoughtfully chewed on his tongue since cigarettes were running low. "Of...sorts."

"Care to elaborate?"

"It's nothing, really. The moron's brute strength just caught me off guard and he made me hurt my back. He's probably angry because I acted like a true gentleman and politely walked away without ruffling his feathers," the cook started gathering plates for the table, "He'll get over it."

The older woman smiled gingerly, "I heard about that little occurrence."

Sanji froze for a split second, a second Robin positively noticed. He resumed dividing up the silverware as he cleared his throat forcibly, trying to sound casual. Robin would know something strange happened, and then thoroughly investigate it. "Beg pardon?"

"Yes, Sencho-san seemed distraught over something, so I asked what was troubling him. He said Kenshi-san was terribly stubborn when you left, more so than usual. I suppose he didn't feel the need to apologize-" Sanji scoffed inwardly at the very thought, "-because he felt he was in the right. Maybe the rivalry between you two is over," Robin grinned cocky as she tapped her coffee cup lightly, "and Kenshi-san has finally won?"

A fork was the cause of a loud thud, crashing against the wooden counter with incredible force; its semi-sharp edges embedded deep within the surface. Nami couldn't believe that Sanji would disrespect a utensil like that, or loose his composure in front of either her or Robin. Just as quickly as it was planted, the fork was yanked out and tossed into the sink to be washed later. The cook searched for a fresh, untainted one in the drawer.

Nami's jaw hung open in disbelief. "What did you do?" she whispered.

"Oh my, it appears I've made things complicated." With that said, Robin returned to her previous main objective; waking up with the help of her dark caffeine.

The nerve of that shitty marimo, daring to think he was better just because he got in a lucky shot! I'll make sure he'll never think that again. When he gets his strength back, he'll never forget that I will always be above him. Sanji highly doubted that Zoro would kill him when the week was done. Zoro wasn't one to get revenge, unless namaka were either killed or severely injured. The worst that could happen would probably be never talking to the swordsman ever again, which he was completely fine with. Zoro could go jump in a volcano for all Sanji cared. But there was the small possibility of the swordsman telling Luffy, though the odds of it were slim, on account of this situation still being unwanted business.

"You can begin eating if you like, my swans~!" Sanji twirled gracefully towards the porthole, where he stuck out his head and scowled, "BREAKFAST IS READY, YOU MONGRELS!"

Usopp, Luffy, and Chopper wasted no time in bargaining inside the small room, shoving one another aside to get the spot by the window. Sanji shouted at them for being ridiculous as they continuously bumped each other off of the bench.

"IT'S MY TURN!" the reindeer squeaked.

"NO, LUFFY HAD IT YESTERDAY; IT'S MINE!"

"OI, THE CAPTAIN GETS TO CHOOSE!"

Usopp and Chopper smacked him simultaneously, "THAT'S UNFAIR!"

Sighing as he placed the remaining plates on the table, Sanji swung out his leg aimlessly, letting his foot collide with the three boys' heads at the same time. They groaned with lumps the size of beach balls slowly growing out of their hair, or in poor Luffy's case, two gigantic ones. Sucking in a rather deep breath, the cook yelled into their ears carelessly, "My kitchen, my rules," and forced them to the farthest wall. Luffy whined, as usual, and the sharpshooter had his arms crossed tightly as he and Chopper glared heatedly at each other.

Only five heads were accounted for. Well, of course Zoro wouldn't want to show up, but Sanji wasn't about to give him a damn choice. No one missed a meal on this ship; not while he was alive and well. He suddenly grinned maliciously. Then again, Zoro's ass might be too sore to move. Something tapped his out-pointed elbow, and the swordsman's ass became temporarily irrelevant. "Yes, my swan?"

"Sanji-kun, I can't enjoy the food if you stare that creepily into space," Nami said, bringing her spoon to her lips.

"My apologizes~! I'll leave you all in..." he noticed how lavishly Usopp was fighting off the meat-craving captain, who had a large clump of rice (that was three sizes too big) stuffed into his mouth, "...somewhat peace."

:~:

Zoro shivered under the light blue blanket, feeling wind seep beneath an open corner. The sea was completely empty as far as other vessels went. Merry sailed across the sun's constantly wavering reflection, but other than that the waters were calm. It was almost refreshing. Zoro still tried to get his breath in control; climbing the rigging had been one hell of a workout. Not counting all the times his arms and legs gave out on him.

Speaking of the rigging, the rope hooked to the side of the crow's nest began tightening, signaling that someone was coming up. Though, Zoro couldn't be sure who, since everyone was eating...breakfast. He forgot all about it. Stomach complaints were certain to erupt now, but that was beside the point. "I don't have anything to say to you, so you might as well just fucking leave," Zoro snarled.

As he expected, a tray with a silver dome covering it appeared first, balancing on the blonde man's head. Those curly eyebrows and smug blue orbs quickly followed, along with, what Zoro did not expect to be, a familiar scowl. "First of all, no one misses a single goddamn meal on this ship." Sanji climbed in and set the plate down before crouching down stiffly, grabbing Zoro's shocked laced faced by the cheeks, poking out his lips. "Second, I heard you obviously need help with your attitude."

"Whut ure yu ooin?!" The swordsman couldn't move his head, so he settled for glaring.

"Testing the size ratio of your mouth for later."

"Uck yu, sun oof a beach."

Sanji sighed like an extremely disappointed parent, "There's that attitude again. Alright."

Zoro unleashed a very unmanly squeal when something grasped his crotch underneath the blanket, his hands immediately flying there to yank it away. But Sanji had no intentions of that. The swordsman gave a breathy sigh as heat began to build up in his stomach. He tried to move, but only found that familiar feeling of being trapped yet again. "Don't take your eyes off of me. Apologize," the cook demanded after feeling Zoro's neck muscles tense.

"Fur whut?!"

Sanji shrugged, grinning dubiously, "It's just a little training exercise to readjust your manners. Maybe after I'm done, you'll actually start complimenting my food."

"Upid shitty food," he muttered. The blonde man pressed his palm in harder, smirking since he felt that Zoro hadn't bothered to change into a proper pair underwear. His fingers lightly played up the cross stitching, and he swiftly unbuttoned the pants once he reached the top. He still had Zoro's head faced in the other direction, making sure he couldn't see what was happening. The marimo panicked, "Cook...?!"

Sanji smiled a little too innocently as the rubbing became beyond insistent, "Apologize."

Zoro made a borderline desperate expression, "Ngh...N-no!"

The cook slipped his hand in and let it curl through coarse, green hairs as slow as a falling snowflake. Zoro gasped at the weird but ticklish sensation it created, fear pumping hurriedly in his chest. Sanji wouldn't dare; in broad daylight, where everyone and anyone could climb up at any moment? A short-lived choked sound suddenly voiced itself when his member was wrapped in warmth, and squeezed lightly. Zoro felt his face boil in embarrassment as Sanji's movements stopped all together. His fingers flexed under the blanket nervously, balling and unballing themselves without his consent.

It happened so fast; Zoro couldn't take the pleasurable roughness. Sanji started again with no hesitation or concern, stroking him hard like their lives depended on it. Zoro's back arched against his sheer willpower and a quiet moan soon joined it.

"Apologize," the cook growled, loosing his grip by each passing second. The swordsman didn't want this, but he didn't necessarily want it to end either. It was extremely complicated to process. Swallowing his rather large pride, (or at least what was left of it) he spoke as best as he could with crushed lips. "'M surry...?"

Sanji scowled, "I didn't ask for a damn question. Repeat after me, 'I'm sorry, Master Sanji.'"

"DIE!" he roared.

Zoro regretted such an impulsive outburst immediately; the contact between them was almost distant. "Mind your manners, moss-for-brains. Now, apologize the right way." Off of Zoro's lap the blanket went, onto the floor and forgotten, leaving Zoro's trembling fingers to curl into his palm instead. The swordsman's arousal stood stiff against his own stomach for all to see except himself; Sanji's hand holding his face captive as steady as the cook's undying confidence. "I could keep you here for hours, you know," the blonde claimed, "since no one ever questions what I do throughout the day. So I suggest you do what I tell you to and behave." Zoro let his eyes fall shut as he waited for something, anything to happen. Sanji's heavy breath ghosted over his chest for a second, and then abruptly travelled lower. What is he...?

"Ahh, no! Get oof uhf me, yu shitty-brow!" Zoro grabbed the blonde's hair as Sanji licked the base of his cock mercilessly with a ridiculously hot tongue, grinning like a savage madman. He wanted to come. He needed to come, but the other made sure to prevent it. The hand on his face finally fell; however, Zoro didn't have the guts to look anyway. The swordsman couldn't control his facial contortions the harder Sanji sucked, no matter how much he tried to resist. His jaw hung open in desire as he panted.

Sanji pulled away and glanced up, his gaze brimming with satisfaction. "You look like you wanna say something, marimo," the cook cooed, "Maybe if you said it, I would let you come. But...that's not necessarily a promise."

Zoro frowned mildly behind a flaring blush. He had half a mind to finish the damn job himself, but even attempting would land him something worse...or better. It was really complicated; this constant battle of mind over body. Besides, he sucked up his pride once, he could overcome the humiliation once more.

Zoro made sure to filter his thoughts before he spoke, checking himself before a smartass response reared itself. "I'm sorry, Sanji," he said flatly.

"Aw, you can do better than that, can't you?" Sanji chuckled, admiring the way his name sounded coming from the swordsman's normally insult-filled mouth. Though still pissed at Zoro for not fully cooperating, (not that he expected any less) he was more interested in the shaking fingers embedded in his blonde locks. Smirking nonchalantly, Sanji leaned down ever so slowly as a test, and those fingers trembled harder, but Zoro stayed quiet. Hm, interesting, he hummed inwardly. "I know what you want, Zoro," he stated, lifting the other's chin roughly, "You want me to suck you dry till you scream. You want me to treat you like the inner slut you are."

Zoro's blush deepened; he never thought he could love and hate that sultry, seductive voice at the same time. "But you have to apologize correctly for me."

The first mate chose to keep his vision black through this all. Damn, he really had no choice but to play along.

"I'm sorry...Master Sanji."

Sanji grinned, "Good boy."

Usopp's eyes widened as he stared cautiously up at the crow's nest, holding his previously forgotten toolbox close to his chest.

What the fuck had he just heard?