We apologize for the long wait, holidays are rough sometimes, and college is really kicking my ass, but we hope that what this chapter has in store will make up for it.
Sex by SinisterBug, Beta by Bronzetigeress! :D
Edit: Sorry about the chapter breaks. They dissapeared the first time I posted. I think I've got them fixed now. Thank you Green-san for pointing it out for us! :)
Chapter 7
"Okay, but then try doing that naked while being cornered by an angry whore who's pissed that you stole her customer!"
Laughter rippled through the group sitting around the table. Sanji sucked on his twelfth, or maybe thirteenth, cigarette of the night and threw back another shot. Dinner had more than exceeded his expectations, and he made sure to shower Miles with praise, and promised to show him a few tricks before he left town. As dinner had wrapped up, more companions had begun to join them until he began to wonder if there was anyone left to actually service any patrons that might have arrived.
Some had brought instruments and played enthusiastically in the background while others had brought playing cards, cigars, more alcohol, and plenty of loud stories and antics to keep him so distracted he almost, almost forgot where he was. He kept expecting to turn around and see his other crew mates amongst the crowd, that's how normal it all seemed.
A few of the boys batted their eyelashes at him, but that was as far as any flirting went. A few of the braver ones threw harassing comments at him about what he was missing, but as far as conversation went, it was more often about something other than their profession.
Other than a lingering sense of anxiety he could neither place nor shake off, loathe as he was to admit it, he was comfortable. He was enjoying himself. Christian had exchanged his smug, scheming demeanor for what seemed like well-meaning friendliness. Sanji was sure that the anxiety had something to do with him, but every time it occurred to the chef to focus on it, he was distracted with another drink, or story, or joke. And there was the fact that he'd become downright friendly since Zoro-
Where was Zoro, anyway?
Sanji suddenly realized that in the haze of smoke, alcohol and good entertainment that he'd lost track of his crewmate. He'd been sitting over by Christian a while ago...
Roman was gone now, too.
He wasn't going to panic. He'd half expected this to happen. Zoro had shown up for the free food, booze, and potentially sex. Zoro could be off somewhere doing any or all three of those things with anyone, and it probably wasn't in Sanji's best interest to try and track him down.
That didn't keep him from being irritable about it. It was only 9 o'clock! Not that he couldn't hold his own - he was enjoying himself, and Zoro's presence or lack thereof wasn't going to change that. But he couldn't help but feel all the more exposed for swordsman's absence.
"Just now noticed, huh?" Suddenly Christian was next to him and muttering in his ear.
Sanji turned his head, leaning in conspiratorially to growl close to Christian's jaw. "The hell you talking about?"
Christian plucked the cigarette from Sanji's lips before the cook could even think to do anything about it. After the third or fourth smoke lost to the prostitute's lips, Sanji had stopped complaining. It was sort of Christian's thing.
"I'm talking about your frantic search for Zoro," Christian smiled, inhaling. "He's been missing for about half an hour. Time flies when you're having fun." That unabashedly friendly attitude Christian had adopted was suddenly gone, and Sanji now had the infuriating suspicion that Christian was laughing at him somehow.
Sanji narrowed his eyes and pulled out another cigarette. "S'not my problem. Shitty swordsman never had any manners."
Christian grinned and raised an eyebrow. "There's someone I would like you to meet."
It was Sanji's turn to raise an eyebrow at the sudden change in topic.
"C'mon," Christian smiled and bit his lip. Sanji couldn't imagine why Christian thought that little act would work on him. "We made you a promise that we wouldn't offend your delicate sensibilities, and I intend to stick to that promise. Just follow me."
Sanji was not inclined to follow, but neither was he inclined to argue. Christian had already gotten to his feet and was looking at him expectantly.
He exhaled slowly and finished off the cigarette. He rose to his feet, noting that the action was a slightly more wobbly affair than he'd anticipated. He was probably down by two bottles of sake and three beers, so it shouldn't have surprised him. Mixing alcohol was never a good idea anyway, and man he had to piss.
"Alright, but swing me by the restroom first."
Christian grinned and nodded, ushering Sanji past the multitude of people who had joined their party. Some people loudly objected, but Christian waved them off and promised to bring Sanji back to them shortly.
As the two moved through the establishment, Sanji made it a point to try and walk paralleled to the wall. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that making sure you didn't appear wobbly was a sure sign that you were and had passed the point of tipsy. But Sanji knew for certain that Christian had pounded back almost twice the amount of alcohol he had and the prostitute was still balanced. It was a pride thing.
He was inwardly relieved when Christian revealed the whereabouts of the bathroom, thinking maybe he could piss part of the drunk out of himself. It didn't work, but at least now he didn't have to worry about holding it in as well as being drunk.
As he was washing his hands, Sanji happened to glance at his own reflection in the mirror and was puzzled as his chest tightened suddenly with that same anxiety he'd been trying to push out of his mind. He frowned at his reflection when he found himself thinking, "God, we're so fucking alike it's creepy." He studied himself momentarily, and suddenly images of Christian fluttered through his mind - smoking, drinking, laughing, grinning haughtily, climbing atop Zoro, whispering in the swordsman's ear -
"Ugh," he sighed and shook his head, drying his hands and heading for the door. His mind was trying to work something out, but not all the pieces were there, and he wasn't going to put his energy into it right damn now.
"I've got a question for you," Christian said as soon as Sanji was out of the men's room.
"Yeah? What?" he said, a fresh cigarette that Christian was bound to steal at some point dangling from his mouth.
Christian threw him a thoughtful look over his shoulder as they continued on toward... wherever the hell Christian was taking them. "More of an observation really, I've noticed that you and Zoro spend a lot of time together, but you two still act like you can't stand each other sometimes."
"That's because we can't," Sanji answered simply.
Christian laughed. "That wasn't actually my question, but thank you for clearing that up."
Sanji, feeling a little steadier, slipped his hands into his pockets and quickened his pace so he could walk beside the other man. After a period of silence (that was longer than what was comfortable for Sanji) had passed, the cook pressed.
"So what is your question?"
Christian hesitated at the bottom of a small staircase for a moment, but then began to climb.
"You really love him a lot, don't you?"
Sanji froze, his hand halfway to the railing. If any of those metaphors about blood turning to ice or your heart stopping for a moment were true, it was all happening to Sanji simultaneously. Somewhere, in the back of the cook's mind he had worried something like this would happen. He had hidden a feeling deep down somewhere that someone would get the wrong idea about why he was here. Sanji was suddenly so angry that he bit the tip of his cigarette filter off. An old habit, and one he'd thought he'd broken years ago.
Spitting the destroyed filter on the ground, Sanji stomped out the burning cherry. He glared through a curtain of his blond hair and let his voice drop to a soft and dangerous level.
"Don't act like you know me," the cook fumed. "Don't take a couple of curious looks or some confused behavior and turn it into something it's not. Just because you're gay, doesn't mean that everyone else in the fucking world is gay too! Don't jump to fucking conclu-"
Christian spun on him so quickly that Sanji's next words caught in his throat.
"I meant as a friend!" Christian growled. "I meant as a comrade, as a crewmate! Don't take a simple question and turn it into something it's not!" The smaller blond's eyes burned as he threw Sanji's words back in his face.
"Don't act like you know anything about me…"
Sanji backed away. His anger slowly melted and was replaced with a deep and intense shame. Sanji wasn't at all used to feeling that particular emotion, so when he did, it was always profound and somewhat crippling. He was being a bigot, and the realization made him slightly queasy. He didn't want to be like that, not at all.
Dropping his gaze, the cook slipped his hands back into his pockets and dropped his gaze.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't… I'm… a little out of my element."
He heard Christian snicker, but didn't look up.
"So who's jumping to conclusions, exactly?" the prostitute said softly.
Sanji sighed and ran a hand over his face, his shame quickly shifting into something like embarrassment. "You know, can we just go back, forget I said anything?"
"Sure."
"Okay, so why? Why are you asking me if I lo-" Sanji stopped, cleared his throat, "-care about Zoro? Why do you care? What's your ultimate objective?"
Christian was quiet for so long, that Sanji finally had to look up. The eyes that met his were no longer blazing, and the cook was surprised to see that they looked a little sad.
"I'm just trying to understand you a little better," Christian murmured.
Sanji snorted. "Why do you want to understand me better?"
Something flickered across Christian's face, something that caused the other man to stare right through Sanji and into some distant memory. It only lasted a moment, however, and Christian quickly blinked the look away.
"Just don't want to see you do something that you'll regret."
With that, Christian gave him one more pointed look and turned to continue up the stairs. Sanji huffed and puffed, scrambling after the prostitute and whispering incredulously as they climbed.
"You say that to me after I've come to a male brothel and gotten myself halfway drunk already? Who knows what kind of shit I'm gonna regret in the morning!"
Christian giggled. The cook could see that somber gaze was quickly disappearing and the man's flirtatious air was coming back, wrapping itself around Christian's skinny frame like a blanket. "Oh, so now you don't trust yourself with alcohol around all our pretty boys?"
Sanji almost slapped himself for walking into that one. "No! No, I was just-"
"I know what you meant, Sanji. You don't have to explain."
Sanji huffed some more, but decided it might be a good idea to close his mouth and keep it closed. He had been intrigued by the Christian that had stared down at him from the stairs. That Christian had seemed sincere and almost stoic, a drastic change from the Christian Sanji had gotten to know earlier at dinner, but even if his naturally curious mind wanted to know more, his rational self had decided it was time to shut up.
They continued on past another hall when something in Sanji's peripheral vision demanded that he turn his head and look.
He truly, truly wished he hadn't. And now he was frozen where he stood, absolutely unable to look away. He wouldn't recall until much later that - again - it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Nothing out of the ordinary was in view (unless you count Zoro and Roman getting to second base with alarming speed 'out-of-the-ordinary'), and he'd seen Zoro in far more exposed and intimate states than this.
The fact that he was passionately being embraced by another man was not the main issue. Zoro's sexuality wasn't really all that paramount when one considered and meditated - even if just briefly - on the fact that, based on his current observations, Zoro potentially allowed other men to fuck him. Because Sanji's now stunned mind could at least make the connection that it was Zoro's arms being pinned to the wall, and it was Zoro's head that was thrown back in closed-eyed pleasure, and that it was Zoro who was letting Roman dig a knee in between his thighs and thrust his hips forward -
Suddenly he felt himself being pulled forward and he stumbled awkwardly as Christian tugged him away.
"As interesting as that scene was, I can imagine you probably wouldn't want Zoro to catch you gawking like that."
"I was not gawking," Sanji quickly argued and pulled his arm away.
"Sure," Christian smiled.
Sanji pretended not to be affected, but his shock was considerable. He was split between trying not to think about it, and wondering why it had never crossed his mind in the first place. Surely it wasn't Zoro's normal -
No. No, no, no, no. Sanji willed himself violently not to think about it, but he couldn't help but ask himself what was next? First he learned that Zoro was sexually active at all. Then he learned that Zoro didn't mind sharing women. Then he learned that Zoro did guys. And now he knew that Zoro probably didn't mind guys doing him.
"Close your mouth," Christian chuckled.
Sanji's mouth snapped shut. What was the matter with him? Shit, he couldn't even blame his behavior on the alcohol! His buzz had mostly gone away during the confrontation at the bottom of the stairs… mostly, but he was still walking in a half-daze with his jaw scraping on the ground. What the hell!
"That bother you that much?" Christian asked, startling Sanji with how heavy that statement sounded.
"Uh, no… I was just…" Sanji fought for words as Christian led him up yet another flight of stairs. "I was just trying to make the… mechanics work in my head."
Christian shot him a confused look. "Mechanics? What the hell are you-" suddenly understanding dawned. "Oh, oh I forgot. You're straight, so you have to categorize. Whatever." He shrugged and led Sanji through a small corridor. "To my knowledge, Zoro is mostly a top, but obviously there are exceptions."
Sanji licked his lips and halted when Christian stopped in front of a plain wooden door. "So…" Oh shit, was he really asking this? "He… when he… uh, with you…"
Christian smiled wide and turned around to lean against the door. He arched a little and let his head fall back like Sanji had seen hundreds of women do. "Yeah, he fucked me." Christian's eyes slid shut and his tongue slowly ran over his bottom lip. "He fucked me so good I'm still feeling it right now…"
Sanji held his breath. He wasn't sure how to even begin to react. Christian's words made him hot and cold and uncomfortable and curious and a whole list of things Sanji didn't want to think about. But before he could say or do anything, Christian was already turning around and opening the door.
"Hellooo?" Christian's voice had quieted, lightened like he was talking to a small child.
"Here kitty, kitty…"
Roman grinned as he watched Sanji stare blatantly at what he and Zoro were doing. Christian had timed it perfectly, that conniving bastard was so good. And all he needed to do was push the envelope a little bit further - what was show business without a little risk? - so he nudged his knee in between Zoro's thighs and thrust forward, eliciting an angry, but hot growl from Zoro's throat. And then they were gone, his mission was done, but there was still Zoro to contend with, so instead of continuing on in the hall, he coaxed the swordsman towards one of the empty rooms.
It was odd to have your clothes ripped from your body, he noted. Usually they had special tear-able mesh for patrons who were into that kind of thing, but he'd never bedded anyone actually strong enough to rip his normal clothes from his body. He'd also never seen anyone give him the predatory look Zoro was now aiming at him.
He wondered briefly if he could claim destroyed clothing as an expense under the house's budget.
Sanji was about to follow Christian into the room, but the prostitute held up a hand for him to wait.
"Hey, you in here?" Christian poked his head around the door.
"Yeah," a soft voice replied.
Christian huffed. "Well? Are you gonna come down, or what?"
Sanji heard shuffling and a quiet sigh before the voice continued. "I was down there. Now I want to be up here."
Pulling his pack from his pocket, Sanji placed an unlit cigarette between his lips. He wondered why Christian had dragged him here. Male prostitutes were hard enough to deal with, so what the hell was he supposed to do with one that didn't want to entertain?
Christian was having none of this prostitute's unsociable behavior, however. He cocked a hip and smiled charmingly. "But I brought you a present."
Sanji heard another soft sigh and more shuffling. "What is it?"
Christian turned to Sanji then, the smallest and evilest of smiles pulling oh so subtly at his lips. He held up a hand and beckoned with one finger for Sanji to follow him. Sanji bit back a snappy remark about prostitutes thinking they could tell him what to do, and moved through the doorway.
Inside, the room was small and sparsely furnished, but a few candles lit the small space giving it a warm and kind of homey feel. The first thing Sanji noticed were the rows of bookshelves lining the walls filled with all manner of cook books, recipe journals, dining etiquette manuals, and other various volumes dedicated to the art. Sanji took it all in quickly and turned his attention to the man seated partially facing away from him on the low bed.
He was young and very thin, with soft features and long brown hair tied up in a messy knot. He wore nothing but a pair of soft, cotton pants, and seemed to be busying himself with stacking a few worn, leather books on the nightstand. Sanji recognized him immediately as the man who had served them sake when he and Zoro had first arrived.
"You know, I'm kind of tired," the man said wearily. "Maybe we could do this another-"
When the young man looked up and noticed Sanji there leaning against the door, his brown eyes bulged almost right out of his skull. Whatever else happened to his face, Sanji wasn't sure because the man promptly yanked the bed sheet over himself, and with an undignified squeak, rolled off the bed and onto the floor.
Sanji shot a look at Christian, who was grinning so wide his teeth seemed endless.
"Christian, you son of a bitch!" the man cried out from behind the bed. He scrambled up from the floor. He braced one arm on the mattress and held the sheet over his chest with the other like he had something to hide.
"I've told you a million times to stop bringing guys up here when I'm not dressed!"
Christian laughed. "I'm a guy."
"You don't count!"
Sanji, not wanting to get caught up in whatever weird prostitute thing these two had going, pulled out his lighter and lit up. He had spotted the ashtray on the window sill, and figured it was allowed.
The younger man stood and pulled open the door to the closet. He yanked it partially closed behind him and dropped the sheet. "You're such an ass…"
"Aw, you don't have to be such a priss," Christian teased. "Not after I went through all this trouble to get him up here to compliment you on your dessert."
Suddenly, Sanji was interested.
"You?" Sanji asked, surprised. "You made the panna cotta?"
The man emerged slowly from the closet, wearing a very feminine long sleeved button down. He nervously ran a palm over his hair and then clasped his hands in front of him. He nodded slowly, seemingly unable to meet Sanji's eyes.
Sanji was amazed. This man—this boy—couldn't have been older than sixteen or seventeen, but the dessert he had sampled earlier in the evening had been fantastic. Sanji had asked around, trying to find the cook who had put it together, but the kitchen staff had told him that particular cook had left already.
"I haven't come across a panna cotta made from real gelatin in years!" Sanji exclaimed. "You actually did it with boiling fish bones, didn't you?"
Again, the man nodded. His gaze darted around the floor as if searching for something. His cheeks had started to turn a light shade of pink, but Sanji had expected that due to the reactions of the other cooks.
"That's the traditional way," Sanji continued, turning to glance at Christian. Sanji's enthusiasm for cooking made him almost forget where he was and who he was talking to. "You can easily tell the real from the fake, so traditional way is always best."
"Of course," Christian smirked.
"Hey," Sanji said, turning back to the younger man, "what's your name? I have to give you credit if I ever use your recipe."
"Aw," Christian cooed, moving close and sliding an arm around Sanji's shoulders. "Do you really not recognize him?"
"Of course he doesn't recognize me, Christian," the man murmured. "Don't be an idiot."
Suddenly, Sanji realized that Christian was in fact drunk. He hadn't noticed it before (he'd been too busy worrying and stressing over other things) but there was a subtle difference in the way the prostitute was speaking. A very slight slur he had not picked up on while on the way here. In Sanji's own defense, Christian was superb at hiding it, but now, as the slighter man leaned against him, Sanji had a very real and very accurate idea of just how off balance Christian really was.
"Well," Christian hummed, "I'm sure you'll figure it out. Meanwhile, I have a few things I need to… attend to." The blond released Sanji and moved back through the doorway. "I'll send someone up with something to drink. Maybe later you can come back to the party? I did promise you wouldn't be gone long after all."
Sanji watched him go, and almost thanked Christian aloud for not shutting the door behind him. When he returned his gaze to the man before him, Sanji sucked on the cigarette and slipped his hands in his pockets.
"I'm sorry," Sanji said. "I'll leave you alone if you-"
"No," the man interrupted, "you're fine. And you don't have to apologize for Chris, he always bullies me. I'm used to it."
Sanji tapped his ashes in the tray and placed the cigarette back between his lips. The brunette was still looking at the floor and his hands were still clasped tightly in front of him.
"Little shy for this line of work, aren't you?" Sanji asked.
That earned Sanji a small smile. The man tucked a nonexistent lock of hair behind his ear and cleared his throat.
"Not shy… just… embarrassed."
Sanji chuckled softly. "Also out of place in this line of work." Another inhale. "So why does Christian think I know you?"
The man's body tensed for a fraction of a moment, then he let out a breath and seemed to slump dejectedly. He took a few steps forward and raised a hand to pull the tie from his hair. Soft, brown locks fell around his face and down past his shoulders. He stopped when he came close and finally looked up to meet Sanji's gaze with dark brown eyes.
"This a little more familiar?" he asked.
Sanji was startled. He looked like a girl. He really looked like…
Wait…
Realization dawned and Sanji gasped, almost dropping the cigarette from his lips. Thankfully, he caught it clumsily at the last moment in his fingertips.
"Holy shit!" he cried. "Saul!"
Christian wasn't sure how, but Zoro had apparently mastered the art of the 'come-hither-grunt'. Yeah, the muscle-head had just grunted at him, but the look in his eyes when he did it, and the fact that he was nonchalantly thrusting his cock into Roman's mouth with his hand fisted tightly in the older prostitutes' hair somehow made it a sexy-as-fuck gesture.
Chris' clothes were off in the blink of an eye and he quickly crawled onto the ledge of the bed, greeting Zoro with a kiss. The dynamic was going to be interesting, considering that while Christian knew he had Zoro wrapped around his finger, it was quite a different situation between Roman and the green haired man. But he couldn't pride himself on being a good prostitute if he couldn't help with that.
Smiling, he slowly pushed Zoro down onto his back and kissed his way down the man's hard belly to join Roman at his rigid cock.
Zoro groaned and threw an arm over his eyes as Christian's mouth joined the one already working him thoroughly. He sighed and released his death grip from Roman's head, allowing himself to enjoy the warm buzz of the alcohol and over abundance of free-floating pheromones.
"Okay, now put it down again," Sanji instructed.
Saul rolled his eyes, but obediently let his hair down. The tresses fell around his face, shadowing his features just right so that his cheekbones seemed more prominent and his eyes brighter.
"Wow…" Sanji murmured. "Okay, one more time? Put it back up?"
"What am I, a trick monkey!" Saul cried, but Sanji could tell that the man enjoyed the attention. Saul was hiding a smile, just not very well.
"Sorry, it's just really amazing." Sanji scratched at his chin. "You're a totally normal looking guy, but then you can be this really attractive girl too."
The blush that had made camp on Saul's face deepened at Sanji's words.
"Thank you…" the brunette whispered.
Sanji froze for a moment. Several responses flashed through his head, but either they were too cruel, or too frightening for him to actually utter aloud. He wetted his lips, coming to a conclusion, and quickly cleared his throat.
"You're welcome."
An awkward silence passed, and Saul seemed to cave in on himself a little. A voice inside Sanji's head started screaming about how much easier this would all be if Saul were really a girl. It would be so simple to just take his—her—hand, kiss her soft skin and compliment her hair or lips or body or dessert, or whatever else came to mind. Saul obviously liked him, and it would be so easy to just take him—her!—into his arms and lay him—her!—gently down on the bed. If Saul were a girl, Sanji could kiss and caress that nervousness away and then he wouldn't feel like such an ass.
Frantically, Sanji searched for something that he could use.
"Why didn't you tell me you were a cook?"
Saul shrugged. "I'm not really, and I didn't want to seem… like a groupie I guess."
Sanji smiled and crushed his cigarette out in the ashtray. "What were you reading before you were so rudely interrupted?"
Saul's head shot up and Sanji was happy to find that the blush had receded.
"I, um…" Saul stammered. "Soup. I mean, a book on soups. I've been working on some to go with the house salads, but when it gets cold, I want to be able to put together something hardy that can be eaten alone. Kind of like the Baratie's house chowder or the lamb stew."
Sanji blinked. "The house… you know the Baratie's… how do you…?"
Saul chuckled nervously and moved to the bedside. He pulled open the drawer to the night stand and took a familiar looking menu and pamphlet from inside. He handed them to Sanji.
Staring down at the recipes he had lived and breathed for years, Sanji felt an overwhelming sense of pride wash over him. He glanced up and smiled at the man in front of him. "You like my chowder?" he asked.
Saul nodded, his hands clasping and unclasping at his waist.
Suddenly, everything made a little more sense. Saul and the rest of the cooks here took their craft very seriously. They used recipes from famous restaurants, including the Baratie, and followed Sanji's adventures with the Strawhat pirates because he was a confederate of the same art. Christian had brought him here to tie worlds together essentially.
Sanji had to give the guy credit for being a conniving bastard.
Glancing at the journals stacked on the nightstand, Sanji continued. "Do you apprentice for someone here?"
Saul started to wring his hands together. "I, um, no. I don't actually work in the kitchen. They just let me make something once in a while. Dessert mostly, the boys here like my dessert. Miles is extremely kind to me, but he told me I need to either work from the bottom, or go to school like the others did."
Sanji shook his head. "That shouldn't matter. You're good enough to work here, better even."
The blush returned, and Sanji was surprised to find that it pleased him to see it. In the back of his mind, Sanji knew he was walking potentially hazardous ground. He knew being in this position of unrestrained admiration was not the best idea, especially when slightly intoxicated, but it did things to his ego that he really didn't want to stop. He liked being the center of someone's universe for once, and it didn't matter if it was a girl or a boy. Sanji enjoyed the thrill, and—if he was to be completely honest with himself—it helped that Saul really was a very beautiful 'woman'.
A knock on the door startled Sanji from his thoughts. He turned to see one of the prostitutes from downstairs standing there in the open doorway, carrying a medium sized bottle.
"Christian told me to bring this up to you," he said, his voice cordial despite the glimmer of annoyance in his eyes.
"What is it?" Sanji asked.
"Fire Tequila," the prostitute answered, his voice slightly slurred. He twirled the bottle in his hands and tossed his head, sending his wavy blond bangs back and away from his eyes. He glanced at Saul and leaned against the doorway.
"You gonna come back down anytime soon? Or are you going to waste your night away with the handyman?"
Seeing the way this prostitute looked at Saul, and the way Saul seemed to shrink away at the man's words as if he had been physically struck, Sanji felt a tremendous and inexplicable protectiveness come over him. It didn't make sense, considering Saul was in fact a man, but Sanji knew this feeling well. He had felt it many times before with Nami and Robin, maybe even with Chopper a few times.
Looking back to the doorway, Sanji took a step forward and took the bottle from the drunken prostitute's hand. The man licked his bottom lip and smiled condescendingly, his eyes flicking back to Saul as if to say "I win". This, more than anything else, got Sanji's blood boiling. One could chalk it up to chivalry, protecting the weak, or maybe just defending a fellow cook, but whatever it was, Sanji took a leap headfirst into unknown and treacherous territory.
Sanji flipped the bottle in his hand as well as any expert bartender, and smiled at the man before him.
"Tell everyone I apologize, but I've decided to partake of this establishment's quality merchandise. Saul has been ever so hospitable. I'll come back down when I'm done with him."
At this, the blond prostitute straightened slowly, his nostrils flaring with rage. Sanji could smell the alcohol on him and silently prayed he didn't start something. This place had truly been very accommodating and Sanji didn't want to have to break anything.
"Are you seriously telling me that you'd rather stay up here with the help than party with all of us downstairs?"
Suddenly angry, Sanji shot the blond prostitute a glare that should have stopped his heart. He then grabbed the door, slammed it shut in the other man's dumbstruck face, and turned to Saul who was staring at him in utter shock.
"Cooks aren't fucking 'help'." Sanji growled as he kicked off his shoes. Moving toward the low bed, he held up the bottle.
"Drink?"
Roman probably thought he was off the hook since Christian had joined him, but Zoro would neither forgive nor forget his insolence in the hallway. There he was, his length sliding in and out of Christian's mouth with ease, a smug and dangerous grin on his face. He was just so sure that the swordsman wasn't going to make him pay for it.
Zoro smirked right back at him and kissed Christian's skin between his shoulder blades, still thrusting into the blond below him.
"Once wasn't enough to keep you from trying to rut with me in the hallway," Zoro licked his lips then looked down at Christian's languid body, "and you somehow think I'm complacent in your scheming. Is the customer service here really that good, or am I just special?" He punctuated the last word with a particularly sharp thrust.
Christian had a response that had something to do with Sanji probably being impressed by such vocabulary, but he found his mouth a little full at that moment, and settled for whimpering his protest instead.
Zoro's proclamation excited and unsettled Roman at the same time. "Couldn't help myself," was his breathy response.
Christian wondered if he was going to get to join this conversation at all when Zoro shifted the mattress and suddenly Roman was helping turn him and prop his friend into Zoro's lap. Christian thought that was a very gentlemanly thing to do before he realized suddenly he was very snug between the both of them, Zoro deep inside of him and Roman pressed against his back.
The fire tequila lived up to its name. It burned like a motherfucker going down, but eventually, after a few swallows, the sensation was much less noticeable and Sanji felt much more relaxed. He offered some to Saul and watched in fascination when the smaller man tossed back the cup he had poured him like it was water. The cook stifled a laugh, thinking of how it was always the small and seemingly frail ones that could always knock it back like it was nothing.
Saul wiped his lips delicately with the tips of his fingers. "What's funny?"
Okay, maybe he hadn't done the best job of stifling it. "You, uh… your um…" Shit, how should he answer?
Saul let out a small laugh. "I'm sorry. I'll ask easier questions from now on."
Sanji shifted his position on the bed and lifted the bottle to his lips. "It's not… they're not hard questions." He took a swallow. "I'm just not sure how to talk to you."
Saul bent his leg and rested his cheek on his knee. "You can just sit here and drink, you don't have to talk."
Chuckling, Sanji shook his head. "No. That would be rude, and I'm not the kind of person that's rude to…"
Sanji stopped, realizing that he had been about to dub Saul with some flowery epithet he usually reserved for persons with breasts. Was he completely drunk? Was he going insane!
"…to what?" Saul looked at him expectantly. "People in general? Hookers? Trannies? Aspiring cooks?"
"Yes," Sanji grabbed the lie and held on to it for dear life. "Fellow cooks."
Saul's mouth turned up in a small smile. His cheeks flushed a much deeper red then they had previously and Sanji felt himself unwillingly charmed yet again.
"What'd I say?"
Saul shrugged. "Uh… you called me a fellow cook, like I am one already." The slight man pulled his other leg up and wrapped his arms around his knees. "It just sounded nice, especially coming from you."
"You are a cook," Sanji said firmly. "You have the talent, and more importantly, you have the desire." He made a gesture around the room. "I see all these books, hear the way you talk about your creations and your ideas… I've known professional chefs and men that own restaurants that have less passion than you do."
"You can't start a restaurant with just passion," Saul said quietly.
"Who says?" Sanji asked.
Saul made a face. "It's easy for you to say. You're probably the most famous chef in the world right now."
Charmed, Sanji rubbed the smile off his face with his fingers. Whoever said flattery will get you nowhere had been mistaken.
"Is that your goal?" Sanji asked. "Start a restaurant?"
Saul stared into his cup, embarrassment pulling at the lines around his eyes. "Sort of. I'd love to have a restaurant someday, but more importantly, I want to start some kind of outreach, like a soup kitchen or something."
Sanji blinked. "Like a charity?"
Saul nodded. "I want to help people that don't have anywhere to go or have no money for food. I want to offer them something so maybe they wouldn't have to do what I do."
"Why do you do what you do?" Sanji asked suddenly, surprising himself.
Saul looked up at him with wide eyes. His lips parted as if to answer, but then closed again. He seemed to think carefully before he spoke.
"You ask that like I have some kind of choice."
Sanji shrugged. "Don't you?"
Saul frowned. "No."
"Why not?"
Saul sighed and held his cup out for Sanji to refill again. "I have no skills besides the cooking, and no kitchen wants to hire someone off the street. I have no credentials, I never went to school. I've been on my own since I was eight."
"But selling yourself like-"
"Sex is something easy and natural. There's always a market for it." Saul frowned into his cup. "Please don't… judge me like you're doing right now. You have no idea what it's like to be all alone and starving to death in some dark back alley."
Sanji froze as his entire perception of the situation shifted. He had stepped in it, big time, and now he felt like an asshole again. Who was he to play better-than-thou? Saul had been through a similar hell to his own, and all he thought about was helping others. He still harbored hope that he could save people from a life like his own.
What would Sanji's life have been like if Zeff hadn't come along? What would he be doing now if he hadn't been taken in by strong arms and dangerous legs, given a home, and taught a trade? What dark, back alley would he be crawling around in right at this very moment?
"I'm sorry…" Sanji whispered.
Saul sipped slowly at the tequila. Sanji watched the other man for a few moments, taking in his thin shoulders, his long, slender neck, and his sad and lonely eyes. He watched as Saul tucked another nonexistent lock of hair behind his ear in a gesture that was so feminine, it was almost shocking.
"It's okay…" Saul said quietly.
It was funny, Sanji thought to himself, how he had been shamed twice in one day by a prostitute…
Christian was nothing if not a perfect distraction. Zoro didn't even twitch as Roman slid in behid him and ran his hands over the sides of Zoro's hips and stomach. The swordsman was far too busy fucking the blond below him to give his full attention to the fact that the older prostitut was eagerly running his lips over his skin unrestrained, or that one hand had begun tracing his scar, or that Roman's hard length was resting heavily against his ass.
But eventually - maybe it was when Roman had started biting hard on his neck and grinding against him in a not-so-gentle plea to be allowed in Zoro's and Christian's reindeer games - Zoro noticed that perhaps this was Roman's way of asking permission to fuck.
A giggle, yes a giggle from Christian drew his momentarily wandering mind back to the man beneath him.
"What exactly is so fucking funny?" Zoro growled, the blond's thigh's thighs further apart and leaning in close.
Christian bit his lip before saying, "Are you going to let him fuck you or are you going to tease us both with the prospect all night?"
"So… they won't unless you dress like a guy?"
Saul shook his head. "It's not about dressing like a guy, it's about walking, talking, acting, thinking like a guy."
"You are a guy."
"Only on the outside."
Rubbing at his eyes, Sanji took another drink from the bottle. He couldn't believe he was actually talking about this. He couldn't believe he was talking about this in a male brothel—talking about it all alone upstairs with a male hooker, no less. Just yesterday this had been a never-going-to-happen-in-a-thousand-years kind of scenario. But, then again, a few weeks ago sharing a girl with Zoro had also been one of those never-gonna-happen kinds of things. Go figure.
"But, prostitutes are supposed to cater to people's kinks though, right?" Sanji squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them again. Was the room tilting a little? Just a little? "Couldn't you work here and be the guy that does that kind of stuff?"
Saul's cheeks were very red and his eyelids were heavy as he held out his cup for Sanji to refill. "It isn't in high enough demand. Men come here to have sex with other men. They don't come here looking for a woman."
"Men come here to have sex with other men…" "…Prostitutes are supposed to cater to people's kinks though, right?" Why had that nagging feeling come back again? Christian was nowhere around now.
"I'm looking for a woman, and I came here," Sanji realized how drunk that sounded only after it had passed his lips, moving past the anxiety since his brain still wasn't providing any answers..
"Why did you come here?" Saul asked before he downed the contents of his cup.
"Uh…" Why had he come here? "Because… Christian invited me to dinner?"
Saul laughed. "I'm sure Christian didn't invite you here just for dinner. He's not a single-layered person. There's probably some other reason he had you come, you just haven't figured it out yet."
"Do I even want to figure it out?" Sanji half whined as he sloshed tequila around in a circle.
Saul took the bottle from him and refilled his cup. "I don't know, do you?"
Sanji thought about it, and then he thought about it some more. "Yeah…" he said seriously. "I don't like not knowing stuff."
Saul blinked. His eyes were looking a little bleary. "You know, I bet you do know. You just don't know… that you know… Did that make sense?"
Sanji nodded and took another swallow. "How long have we been up here?"
Pulling himself forward on the bed, Saul craned his neck to look at the clock on the wall behind the door. "Um… thirty minutes, give or take."
"Okay." Sanji poured half of what was left of the tequila down his throat, and then handed the bottle to Saul. "Finish that and then put your hair back up."
"Eh?"
"We're going back downstairs." Standing was tricky, but Sanji figured out how to do it on the third try.
"We?" Saul's voice was high.
"Yes," Sanji held out his hand. "You're gonna be my um… what should I call it? Date? Companion-type thing?"
Saul just sat staring at the offered hand. "I-I don't understand."
Sanji sighed. "If anyone calls you 'the help' again, I'm gonna kick his face in and I want you there to see it."
Another long moment passed as confusion pulled at Saul's features, but then the younger man smiled brilliantly and pulled his hair back into the tie. He took Sanji's hand and stood. They walked—or rather wobbled—together to the door and shuffled down the hall.
"Gonna teach some of these prostitutes how to play cards," Sanji chuckled. "Maybe by the end of the night I'll have won some money and it'll be like I got paid to come here."
Saul laughed, but stopped as they came to the top of the stairs.
"Hey, Sanji…" he said, his voice softening.
"Hm?" Sanji asked as he started down the stairs. He pulled out a cigarette and lit up as he descended.
Saul was silent behind him, and when Sanji turned back to see what was the matter, he found the younger man still at the top step, leaning heavily against the railing.
"What is it?" he asked.
The brunette tilted his head, as if trying to regard Sanji in a different perspective would help him better understand an unvoiced question.
"Thank you…" he whispered finally.
Sanji exhaled slowly. "For what?"
Saul shook his head and shrugged his shoulders slowly. "Nothing… Everything. Just being you, I guess."
Sanji stood silent, watching the man above look down at him with that unrestrained affection and admiration. For some reason, when Saul looked at him like that Sanji didn't mind. It wasn't like the looks the other men of the brothel threw at him. Saul's feelings were real and stemmed from something deeper than a physical attraction. They had something in common, a respect for the thing they both loved, and dreams that were so similar it was frightening.
Sanji held out his hand then. "Come on," he coaxed, as gently as if he was speaking to a real lady. Saul flushed once again and took his hand. He let Sanji lead him down the stairs and made the softest of noises as Sanji slipped his fingers through his own, lacing their hands together.
"Just stay by my side," Sanji murmured.
Damn, the tequila was doing wonders for his discomfiture.
Fuck, Zoro thought to himself, because that was the only coherent thought he could form at the moment.
Every nerve in his body was fraying and in danger of completely unraveling, but hell if he was going to show it. Christian moaned loudly beneath him, adding to the sensory assault. The skin on his companion's belly glistened with sweat and his first release, his hard cock thumped against Zoro's stomach in anticipation of his second.
Heat came over him in waves - Roman's body was like a furnace. He concentrated on breathing as Roman panted heavily into his ear, one of the other man's hands gripping his hip tightly, the other plastered over Zoro's pectorals in an oddly possessive gesture. For the first time that night, Zoro wondered briefly to himself which would come first - orgasm or black out.
Christian's whole body jerked suddenly and against their established rhythm, and he let out a choked cry as Zoro stroked him to completion.
Zoro's own knees suddenly didn't know what to do with themselves as he felt Christian tighten unbelievably around his own cock, but Roman seemed to have plenty of wits about him as he immediately took control. He pushed Zoro forward and quickly - lest Zoro suddenly have enough mental capacity to protest - rearranged himself between Zoro's thighs, using his knees to spread the swordsman open.
It was too much to ask though, even in their heightened state of passion. Zoro tried to shoot back up, but in an amazing show of team work, Christian threw his arms around Zoro's neck and pulled him back down into a kiss, while Roman did a very brave, foolish and stupid thing that he knew he'd regret later. He grabbed one of Zoro's wrists and pulled his arm around his back, taking advantage of his position to fuck him harder and faster.
"Are you serious!" the little one named Yukie squeaked. "I am so jealous of this Robin girl!"
"I know," the older one with the silver-streaked hair gestured with his sake cup, "Why can't I have a crew of sexy men come and save me?"
The tall one with the long red hair and a surfeit of colorful tattoos snorted. "Because you're old and grouchy, Wolf. Not to mention your looks pale in comparison to the infamous Nico Robin's."
Sanji blinked heavy eyelids as Wolf pouted and settled further into the cushions beside him. The cook took another long swallow from his glass and leaned in close to the dark-skinned man.
"Doesn't mean you don't have your own charms," Sanji slurred. "I'm sure if I was gay, I'd think you have a handsome face."
Wolf grinned at him. The man's eyes were bleary with alcohol, but luckily for Sanji, the older man was one of those that got calmer and quieter as his intoxication became more severe.
"Sanji, if you were gay, I don't think you'd be seeing much of my face."
"Hmm," Sanji snickered into his glass. "Don't tease me. I'm sensitive under all this influence."
The big redhead laughed. "And you weren't before?"
"Shut it," Sanji retorted. He was answered with a chorus of drunken giggles.
The noise in the room had lessened considerably as the hour had grown later. Several prostitutes had left to entertain patrons, and many had gone to bed. All that was left now was Sanji and six others. Wolf, little Yuki, the tall redhead that had a name that sounded like some kind of bird, the white-haired cook, Tristin, a quiet young man named Raven with silky black hair and a face so beautiful it was distracting, and of course, Saul. They sat together around the low table, drinking and listening to Sanji tell stories of his adventures with Strawhat Luffy and his crew.
"I think you should tell us again about how you and Zoro throttled this CP9 group," Tristin said softly. He tongued the edge of his glass before he took a sip, eyeing Sanji intensely.
Sanji chuckled, fully aware that the way Tristin was flirting with him would have been extremely uncomfortable, had he been sober. "It wasn't just me and Zoro. Luffy took out their leader. Nami messed up one of them. Chopper, Franky… I'm sure even Usopp did something."
Tristin smiled and brought a cigarette to his mouth with long, slender fingers. "Well then tell us another story. I like hearing you talk."
Sanji grinned and took a drag off his own cigarette. He had enough decency to feel just a little guilty at the fact that some of these prostitutes were getting farther with him than he would have ever thought possible only because they were so free with the compliments.
"Don't be pulling it out just yet, Tris," the redhead slurred. "Looks like Sanji's already got his companion for the night."
Tristin's eyes never left Sanji's as he licked his lips. "It's just not fair, Wren. If I'd known he was cool with bedding cooks, I'd have made a move earlier."
Sanji flashed his teeth. "Put the beet syrup to good use."
Tristin chuckled. "I'm sure we could have confiscated some shortening. Maybe some vegetable oil…"
Raven smoothed out his smile with his fingertips. "I'm pretty sure that's the most disgusting thing I've ever heard."
Wren gave him an incredulous look. "Really?"
"I had no idea you cooks were so nasty," Wolf commented into his glass. "Vegetable oil? Really?"
Tristin shook his head and rolled his eyes. "No. That really would be disgusting."
Wren shifted his position so he was resting on his elbow. He tilted his head and gave Saul a slow once over before emptying his cup.
"Always thought he was pretty," nodding at Saul. "He'd make a great companion if he wasn't so fem."
"Yukie's fem," Sanji frowned.
Wren shook his head. "Different kind of fem."
Saul shifted at Sanji's side. The Strawhat cook turned to look at the slight man curled up against his side. His long eyelashes fluttered as he slept, and his long fingers tangled themselves in the hem of Sanji's shirt. Instinctively, Sanji put an arm around Saul's shoulders and ran his fingers over the man's light brown hair.
"He's too much like a girl…" Sanji murmured.
"Yup," Wren smiled, "But we don't hold that against him."
"You're sweet to bring him down here with you." Yukie murmured sleepily. The small man was half laying on the table and had his chin resting on his folded arms.
Sanji shrugged. "We just had a connection."
"That's good," Wren said. "That's mostly what we offer. We have a lot more men come in here for companionship, someone to have dinner with or just talk to, rather than straight up sex."
"Oh?" Sanji was genuinely surprised.
Wolf nodded. "It's hard out there sometimes. You want to connect, or you want to just be with someone that makes you happy, but there's a lot of social prejudice. I have twice as many clients that come in and just ask me to sit with them than I have that come for the full deal."
Sanji was astonished. "So… you have men coming in here all the time, that pay an extraordinary amount of money just to sit and talk with you?"
Yukie straightened. "It's a few hours sitting in an intimate setting without judgment or harassment. It's a chance for them to just relax and be themselves and not have to worry about a coworker or family member or something seeing them."
"Straight men take for granted that they can flirt and be affectionate whenever they please." Wren said softly. "Most gay men have to hide who they are all the time."
Sanji looked down at Saul once again, his mouth dry and his lungs tightening painfully. An image of Zoro came into his mind unbidden. He thought about how the swordsman no doubt felt about constantly keeping a part of himself secret from his crew. It wasn't fair, and the cook felt a little sick knowing that he was most likely the chief reason Zoro felt he needed to hide.
"I'm an asshole…" Sanji breathed softly.
Saul stirred. "Hm?"
Sanji ran his fingers through the smaller man's hair again. "Nothing, Saul-swan. Go back to sleep."
"You practically wrote him a formal letter asking for it you dumb son of a bitch, so I don't want to hear it. You're a prostitute, he's a customer and you crossed the line!" Christian fumed, despite tenderly applying a cold compress to Roman's rapidly swelling eye.
Roman had seen it coming a mile away, so he was neither surprised nor upset. In fact, it was the idiotic grin on his face that was pissing Christian off so much. As if somehow Roman had accomplished something worth being smug over aside from being totally out of line with his favorite patron of all time.
And if the quiet chuckle coming from the bed was any indication, Zoro didn't seem too upset about it either. Christian had seen a lot of things in the course of his life, but watching a prostitute get taken out by a patron, then resuming sex for the next hour like nothing had happened, was a first. They only stopped because Zoro had finally sighed, muttered something about a "shiner" and suggested it was probably best to get something cold on the blossoming bruise.
"Probably shoulda waited longer to abandon that stupid cook though," he almost sighed, moving his foot out of reach so Roman would stop running his fingers along it.
Christian and Roman both chuckled at the same time. "He's fine, believe me," Roman reassured him. "He struck up quite a little friendship with Saul, and Chris couldn't have placed him in kinder, gentler or more respectful hands."
The next morning, Sanji stared hard into his cup of coffee, his stomach squirming unpleasantly as he bolstered his guts. He'd only fallen asleep a few hours ago. They'd been up until 4 am, and he and Saul had passed out in one of the parlors, a bottle of wine dangling from Sanji's hand and the boy's head in the chef's lap.
It's funny how the mind has a way of organizing things in your sleep (and a drunken sleep at that). He'd dreamt that Christian was the chef on the Thousand Sunny, and Sanji was the prostitute. Zoro was his patron because of his resemblance to Christian, but it was Christian who his crewmate was in love with.
Instead of any other wild array of emotions the chef figured he would process upon waking from a dream like that, he only had that same goddamn feeling he'd been struggling with the night before.
Then the fog of sleep and dream confusion cleared and all the lights in his head were suddenly on at once. The notion was as ridiculously obvious as it was incredibly farfetched; just what the hell made Sanji think that the resemblance between him and Christian was just coincidence?
What if it wasn't?
He and Roman were alone in the kitchen, and there wouldn't be a better time than this. It was just that his mind kept yelling at him that this was a stupid idea, his suspicion was even more so, and it was so bizarre to find himself ever asking this question.
He cleared his throat. "So."
Roman looked up from the paper he was reading. "You wanna know about the black eye, right?"
Sanji had noticed that, but no. He really didn't want to know about Roman's black eye. He knew with whom Roman had spent the night, and he didn't need to add Roman's black eye to the list of ponderings he had found himself with as of late.
Sanji cleared his throat again and shifted his stance.
"Not really, actually."
Roman laughed. "You're learning fast."
Sanji chuckled softly, but his expression quickly turned serious. "There's usually a rule about spilling other patron's secrets, and I'm sure this place isn't any different," he began, "but I have to ask, and I need you to just..." the cook ground his teeth together, thinking that this was probably the most out of line he had ever been within a brothel.
"Just tell me the damned truth, okay?"
Roman didn't respond, he just nodded his head and returned to his paper. Sanji took that as an invitation to continue.
"This isn't a conclusion I normally- it's not like I think that..." He sighed and set the coffee cup down. "I couldn't... help but notice Christian."
Roman snorted but didn't look up from his paper. "A lot of men can't help but notice Christian."
Sanji rolled his eyes, exasperated with himself for walking into so many of these god damn double entendres. "No, not that. I mean that I can't help but notice what Christian looks like."
Roman snorted again. "Again, a lot of men-"
"Just like me, Roman. Christian looks just fucking like me. His hair, his god damn clothes, the way he carries himself - he's a gay me!"
"And?"
Sanji held up his hands incredulously and waved them about. "C'mon Roman, what the hell am I supposed to think about that?"
Roman finally looked up and shook his head. "I don't know? What are you supposed to think about that? Does it offend you that there's a gay prostitute out there who happens to be very genetically similar to you? What are you getting at?"
Sanji rested his elbows on the table and buried his head in his hands. In a muffled voice, he said, "What am I supposed to think about the fact that my best crew mate comes to a gay brothel and chooses the ONE guy who looks just fucking like me to sleep with?"
When Sanji didn't get a quick, lighthearted brush-off, he looked up and was surprised to see Roman staring at him intently. The companion opened his mouth to respond, when suddenly laughter broke out from behind them.
They both turned to see Christian bent over, laughing hard.
"Oh god, straight men are so hilarious!"
Apparently Christian had been eavesdropping on their conversation, and as much as he was furious because Christian had done so, he was overwhelmed with embarrassment that the asshole had heard him in the first place.
"Fuck you," he spat.
Christian straightened up, grinning. "Oh, don't be mad. I'm not really laughing at you - well, yes, I am. But not in a mean way. 'Sides, I can set your fears at ease. You're really not Zoro's type."
Sanji could not help the fact that his expression went from one of anger to indignation at having been issued such a challenge. A challenge was a challenge, no matter what the situation. He was biologically programmed to respond in defiance when his ability to do anything was called into question. So, to reiterate, Sanji could not help the fact that he was now indignant at having been told he was not 'Zoro's type'.
"What exactly-"
And this was the point when Sanji's brain caught up with his primitive nature. He had been about to ask what exactly it was that Christian had that Sanji did not. But as previously stated, this was a part of the biological reaction at having been told he wasn't good enough. He couldn't help it. And that is what he told himself.
"Never mind. I gotta go. Thanks for... yeah." He quickly dug the coin out of his pocket and tossed it to Christian. He nodded to Roman and left. He had intended to wait for Zoro, but there was no way in hell he was staying in that brothel one moment longer. He had to get out. He had to get away. He needed to run, to punch and kick some things, and he needed to smoke. A lot. By himself. Away from... just away.
TBC