A/n: [Updated Chapter] Uhh it's really weird because I suddenly decided to actually sit and read all the chapters of this story at one shot, which I've never done up till now.. Not sure if I should be ashamed or- Anyway, so I read it and was pretty shocked that I hadn't proof-read it. Like, that never ever happens. EVER. I may have overlooked a mistake maybe after proofing, but I never not proof anything.. Which makes this chapter really weird I seriously do not know what i was thinking. Anyway, there were a bunch of major mistakes that I've changed and stuff so now it's fine -phew-

Back to the chapter!

Love~

Chapter 4

Sanji lay on his side, one arm under the pillow and the other clasping the sheet under him. A soft silky blanket covered his naked and abused body. He took in a ragged breath as a tear rolled down his nose and stained the white sheet. He had literally been raped the previous night. And it wasn't women that were involved. Several minutes passed and he slowly eased himself into a sitting position. The movement caused a jolt of pain to shoot up his spine and he winced. Taking several unsteady breaths, he stood up, the silky material sliding off his body to reveal several dark blotches and cuts all over his pale skin. He really wondered if the customers were allowed to mistreat the hosts that badly. Sex Slaves his mind corrected him.

He tried not to groan at the pain in his waist, as he limped to the bathroom. He let the tears fall as he stood under the torrent of water. This was the one thing he had wished would never happen. Even those two years he spent with the Newkama seemed something to remember with joy compared to what he had to go through the previous night. He shut his eyes and immediately a scene played on the back of his eyelids. Big men, huge muscles, dimpled chins, barely clothed, tattooed all over – Sanji doubled over and threw up. Through his blurry vision he noticed that his vomit contained nothing except bile, water and blood. He almost scoffed at himself. It had been years since he had felt so weak, so vulnerable, so utterly helpless. And it had been years since he had gone without food for several days. Yes, he'd barely eaten. Though his pantry was overflowing with food that would make Luffy's eyes sparkle – he smiled at the thought of his Captain – he couldn't stomach them. He would just go back at dawn, lie on the couch staring at the ceiling, till he figured it was time to go back to work.

It had been nearly a week. Amelia had offered to shift Zoro to her clinic-cum-house in the normal part of town and that was the last time he'd seen the man. The doctor had visited once, bringing him news of Zoro's condition, but otherwise Sanji was completely alone. The blond had refused to live in the apartment after Zoro was moved out, so he now lived in one of the rooms that live-in hosts stayed in, in Ravena's building. He had also not seen or heard from either the woman or Oberon, all his orders came through other hosts or slips of paper. He stepped out of the room, his mind rushing through the days he had passed. He could barely remember. There had been a blond woman who had nearly cut him up in her psychotic madness, a tall lanky man who stunk of beer and had long hair that covered his eyes, the people on the street who ogled, hooted and felt him up as he stood in the corner like any other slut, the old ugly hag who had forced herself on him and the group of men from last night. His worst memories were of the previous night and when he was made to stand on the streets. He had been a second away from losing it and killing every single fucking person within three metres of him. But of course, just as he had lifted a leg, a flash of green had flitted through his mind, and his will had crumbled. Zoro's life was in his hands. He would sacrifice himself if it meant the other could have the time to be nursed back to health. He wondered if Zoro had regained consciousness.

A sudden wave of dizziness overcame him and he slumped against the wall. He groaned as his shoulder collided heavily and the pain shot through his tired brain.

"Prince!" Sanji blinked at the ground as it swirled in and out of focus. He raised his eyes with great effort, a blue eye meeting emerald ones and then everything was black.

When Sanji woke up, long shadows were playing across the room he was in. He figured it was nearly dusk. His body hurt like a bitch. His head was trying to rip him up from the inside. His vision kept swaying and blurring. He could barely sit up before he collapsed heavily into the mound of pillows behind him. His breathing was ragged, his throat was on fire, his chest heaved and wheezed and Sanji had a sudden urge to kill himself. Just as the thought flitted through his mind, the door opened and Retta walked in with a plate full of food and drink. One look at the food and Sanji was throwing up by the side of the bed. Retta helped him back onto the bed and mopped the sweat from his brow. The cook had grown to quite like Retta, as their living quarters were rather close. The boy was extremely talkative and that was a good distraction for him. The boy remembered nothing from before the sex house and Sanji almost pitied him.

The blond shut his eyes and relaxed into the soft pillows. Hell if he couldn't work that night. He could barely stand up. Retta was babbling on about how he needed to eat and Sanji just waved him out. As the boy left, he felt his tired mind drift off again.

Sanji was woken up rudely when something cold and hard was pressed against his cheek. He yelped and jumped away, eyes wide. He glared up at Ravena as she smirked down at him. He would have stood up, but just that simple movement had exhausted his body and it refused to move. Ravena waved a can of something in his face.

"I'm afraid you do not have the luxury of taking a sick leave Mr. Prince. You will have to drink this and be on the streets in twenty minutes." She dropped the can on the bed and walked towards the door. She looked back at him, a blank look on her face, as she eyed him with distaste.

"And do something about your hair and your face. You look disgusting."

Sanji snorted as the door closed shut. Looked disgusting? He felt disgusting. Every part of his body burned and he just wanted to scratch himself till he bled to death. Sanji eyed the can, slowly opened it and downed it in one go. Fuck precaution. His life couldn't get any worse. In fact, he was so sure Oberon and Ravena wouldn't try to kill him but prolong his suffering, sometimes he almost wished his food or drink was poisoned.

The second the cool liquid went down his throat, he felt a jolt pass through him. The result was instantaneous. His mind was alert, his surroundings standing out in sharp contrast against the dark shadows, his skin almost translucent in the pale moonlight. He slowly slid off the bed and was amazed at how fluidly his body was responding. He laughed despite himself. His blue eye was wide and the adrenaline pumping through his blood pushed him to get up and get dressed. He was clothed and satiated and out the door in ten minutes. His eyes were still wide and his brain was on over drive. He didn't know what that liquid was, but he felt great. He felt better than great. He passed by a mirror and eyed himself. He was clad in a white shirt that was made from an extremely flimsy material. It clung to his shoulders and fell down his bare chest in transparent folds. There was literally no point of the shirt, as it was see through. He wore tight black pants underneath that shimmered every time he moved. His body was hot and needy and his breaths came out in pants. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were bright and shining. His hair fell down his face in a messy yet attractive way, blond strands shining in the dim light. He smirked at his reflection. Despite everything, he had to admit, he was one sexy monster.

He hummed at the back of his throat and literally skipped down to the streets. His brain seemed to be screaming something, but he was too high on whatever shit he had drunk, to care. He slipped out and found an empty corner. He leaned against the wall provocatively, a sexy smile spreading on his face. His eyes were heavily lidded and his lips parted. He could feel the hot looks and lustful glances from the crowd. His eyes scanned the throng of people and he was shocked at the striking sharpness of his vision. Details screamed everywhere, a snag in a woman's skimpy red dress, a bald patch on a man's wigged head, the excess make up on a whore's patchy face, the silver belts on a tall man's boots, he could see everything. A breathy laugh escaped his throat as he continued scanning the crowd. There was a flash of green and his body stiffened. He straightened up slightly as blue eyes darted back and forth, desperately trying to spot the green again. He was just about to turn his head to the side, when calloused fingers roughly turned his head back. He raised his eyes to stare into the face of the same longhaired blond he remembered from before. The man had a savage grin on his face and Sanji found himself smirking back playfully.

"Well well, looks like it's fate that we meet again my Prince."

Sanji shivered at the low rumbling voice and he panted lightly through parted lips. His eye was still half closed and he pushed himself closer to the other, desperate for the contact.

"Mmm looks like it is." His gaze flickered to the other man's chapped lips and he found himself leaning in, his body betraying his screaming mind, like he no longer had control over whatever he said or did. He hummed, a smile alighting his face as he closed his eyes and leaned closer.

His mind was furiously screaming, telling him to stop, telling him to back away, cursing himself for drinking whatever the fuck was in that filthy can, his last coherent thought rang through his mind like the jangling of bells.

'Zoro! Where the fuck are you?!'

Zoro shivered despite the stifling heat and pulled his coat closer around himself. It had nearly been a week since he had gotten roughed up by Oberon's hoodlums. It wasn't his fucking fault those whores were trying to get in his pants. It wasn't his fucking fault when they started to argue who was more beautiful and had turned to him for an answer. It wasn't his fucking fault he had been honest and told them they all looked like a bunch of prostitutes. What the fuck, it was true! They were a bunch of prostitutes for all he cared, desperately trying to get in his pants. So of course when they started screaming and calling for the manager, he had expected a fight. He had been called to a back alley and had been surrounded by twenty or thirty hefty, large, tattooed men. He was managing just fine until one of them took out a picture. A picture of a certain blond man he knew, the overconfident smirk on his face pissing the swordsman off even more than he already was. He snarled despite himself and the thugs had misunderstood. The guy with the picture had thrown it up and a second later it was pinned to the wall by a knife. Zoro's eye had narrowed, as the implications were clear. He either gets beaten up or risks taking the fight to the stupid curly brow cook. He smirked and continued to struggle and resist, knowing dragging the cook in meant that it greatly increased their chances of survival and escape.

Now, Zoro wasn't one to run to the cook for help. Hell, if he ever asked the fucker for anything other than booze and food – and even that he chose to do himself. But without his swords, Zoro was useless. Sanji could easily take these thirty bastards down with a swing of his feet. Despite not wanting to admit it, Sanji – not counting Luffy – was probably the only one in their crew who could stand up to him. The swordsman refused to admit that he trusted Sanji to take his back when they were in a pinch. Yet there he was, drawing the fight to the other, a savage grin on his face.

He had almost reached his destination. Almost. And then everything had gone wrong. Oberon must've guessed what he was trying to do and given the order for a change of plans. Zoro's skull cracked as an iron bat struck him hard on the back of his head. He knew the damage wasn't severe. Maybe a heavy concussion tops. He was way too thick-headed – as the cook often spat – to undergo major damage from an underhanded move like that. He growled, spun around, grabbed the bat and smashed the man's brains into the pavement. He let out a savage roar at the feel of the metal in his hands. Ah, the joy of holding something. He trashed everything within three metres of him, growling and shouting the whole time. But at one point, he tripped and went sprawling across the filthy alley. The men had pounced on him, ripped his shirt to shreds and ripped his chest even more. He bit back the screams as the knife slowly and meticulously cut through his flesh. He thrashed and kicked but his arms and legs had been pinned down. As he watched the blood stain the already disgusting alley, his vision blurred. The last thing he remembered was Oberon's maniacal laugh and the picture of Sanji pinned to the wall, as he was carried away.

Zoro sighed and let his eye flit across the crowd to the shops on either side. He was nearing the apartment where they had previously stayed, when a commotion broke out behind him. He rolled his eye and continued to push through the crowd. Some horny despo was screaming at someone else that some whore belonged to him. He sighed. Not his fucking business which whore got laid by which desperate bastard. Just as he spotted the door of the building, he froze. A smooth, silky voice floated to him through the din of the crowd around. Now Zoro prided himself for his animalistic senses, but that voice.. he couldn't forget it even if he was wiped clean of all his memories.

His head shot around and scanned the pavement for the blond. A satisfied growl escaped his throat as he spotted his target. Zoro waded through the throng of people, pushing and digging his way through. He was thrown out of the crowd and nearly lost his balance as he skidded to a stop at the corner. He raised his head and his eyes bulged at what he saw. The ero cook was wearing the skimpiest outfit he had ever seen – he wasn't going to admit that the man actually looked really good despite the whorish outfit - on the blond. But that wasn't what shocked him. It was the way the man was behaving that caused the disgust to roil and boil in his stomach. Sanji was swaying between two men - one a tall lanky cowboy kind of man with long dirty blond hair that covered his eyes and the heavy stench of beer that Zoro could smell from so far and another short, stubby man who was waving angry little fists as he shifted uncomfortably, possibly due to the huge bulge in his pants. – a sensual smirk on his face, eyes half lidded and lips parted. One hand was on the chest of the tall man, stroking lightly and playfully, while the other made sweeping, exaggerated gestures that were extremely suggestive. Zoro noticed that it was only the short man who was so riled up – Sanji being the cause and Zoro knew the blond was thoroughly enjoying it – while both the cook and the cowboy just had smirks on their faces. In the end, the stubby man seemed to give up and decide to jump the cook, causing the cowboy to kick him in the balls. The man fell to the ground, jerking and trembling.

The swordsman scowled as he noticed the man started to foam in the mouth. He sighed and diverted his gaze back to his target, knowing the short man didn't have long. He stepped forward just as the two began to move towards Sanji's work place and grabbed the blond's wrist. The other slowly turned around, a slightly annoyed look in his eyes, until he froze when he spotted the person who stopped him. A flash of emotion flitted across his face, but was covered by the same lazy smirk as he turned around, drew the cowboy closer, whispered something in his ear and – Zoro nearly puked from disgust – kissed him. The man eyed Zoro wearily but finally nodded and went into the building. Sanji turned back to Zoro and the smile fell a little.

"Zoro…" He breathed, stepping forward. The swordsman found himself smirking despite wanting to punch the cook in the face.

"You've officially turned into a total whore."

Sanji's eyebrow twitched but his eyes closed half way and the sensual smirk took it's place on his face again.

"And you've officially come back from fucking Satan. How was it? Was he any good?" The hair on the back of Zoro's neck prickled at the sound of the low, silky voice.

"Is that how you talk to your customers?" Zoro's voice was low and strained. He didn't realize what he said could be taken in a different way, until he saw Sanji's eyes widen. Zoro immediately flushed and let go of the other.

"I meant your other customers! Not-" He was cut off by a pair of lips smashing against his own. Zoro's one good eye widened as Sanji's blue one stared back, while pushing the other farther down the sidewalk. Before Zoro could react, he was pressed against the wall in the middle of a dingy alley, Sanji's face inches from his.

"Customer eh? Didn't know you saw me like that Marimo." Zoro tried to shove the other off but winced as his aggravated wounds screamed. Sanji smirked some more and pushed himself against Zoro, their bodies flush against each other, his parted lips right in front of Zoro's.

"What the fuck are you playing at?"

It was a low growl and the smirk fell from Sanji's face. Blue eyes stared into gunmetal ones, as the cook shifted a little. Then he smiled and the swordsman's chest tightened at the sight.

"Absolutely nothing, shitty swordsman. Why the fuck are you here? Shouldn't you be lying half dead in Doctor Amelia's clinic?" Sanji's voice was soft and devoid of emotion, atleast until it broke in the end and the man looked away, the same emotion as before playing across his face. Zoro snorted and looked at the swarming street.

"As if I'd die from something like that." After a long silence, Sanji replied.

"What did you do? Fuck Oberon's favorite whore?" Zoro almost winced at how blunt and brash Sanji's way of talking had become compared to his cooing polite and frilly speech. Instead, he smirked.

"Something like that." The light that lit Sanji's eye reminded the swordsman that this was still the same man he knew. The same man he swung his swords at, never actually trying to hurt severely, but always enjoying the pointless brawls. He was the same man that tossed a bottle of Sake at Zoro after a particularly difficult fight and without a word walked away. He was the same man who would spit and jab at him with ridiculous names and insults, yet never meant the insults. He was the same man who went googly eyed whenever his beloved Nami-swan and Robin-chwan said something, his body squiggling and his pea sized brain malfunctioning at their beauty. He was the same man Zoro had woken up to find on the island and the same man whose picture had been pinned to a wall. Zoro's eyes flicked up and down, drawing in Sanji's attire. When he looked back at the other, he saw the same smirk on his face.

"Say, why did you come here?" Sanji leaned closer - causing Zoro to back as far into the wall as he could - and asked in a slow drawl, his tongue drawing out the R in 'here'.

"Isn't that obvious ero-cook?" Zoro's palms were pressed flat against the wall, as if he was willing it to disappear. Sanji's eye closed further and he pushed his body flat against Zoro's.

"No, it fucking isn't Marimo. Because I fucked and got fucked by a whole bunch of horny sluts and manwhores just to make sure they wouldn't go dice you up and serve you to me on a silver platter. I made sure you escaped this fucked up hell hole, not so you could waltz back in here you fucker." Sanji's voice was so low, his lips barely moving, he was literally hissing by the end. Zoro's eye narrowed.

"There's no fucking way I'm leaving you here while I get nursed back to health somewhere else." There was a hard edge to his voice and he grabbed Sanji's chin hard enough to bruise and twisted the other's face up to meet his eye.

"So I'm asking you again, what the fuck happened." Crystal blue orbs stared back into his, revealing no emotion whatsoever. The Sanji yanked his head back and pinned Zoro to the wall. He sneered at the man.

"What happened? I'll tell you what happened you fucking national treasure." Then he smashed his lips against Zoro's, mashing them together so Zoro's indignant grunt was lost in the other's throat. Sanji slipped his tongue out and pried the swordsman's mouth open. He slid his tongue in and looked Zoro square in the eye. The seaweed haired man's blood boiled at the obvious challenge and he tangled his own tongue with the blond's, both men battling furiously to gain the upper hand. Sanji's arms snaked around Zoro's broad shoulders and tangled themselves in the other's hair. He almost laughed at how bristled and course it was. But he was surprised when Zoro wound his arms around the cook's waist and forced their bodies closer.

Zoro didn't know what he was doing, but the look in Sanji's eye told him something was wrong. From the way he was behaving itself, Zoro could tell there was something more to it than just whatever had happened in the past few days. As Zoro's tongue invaded Sanji's mouth, his eye widened at the bitter-sweet taste in the other's mouth. He pulled away, causing their lips to untangle with a loud slick and he glared bloody murder at Sanji. The other just raised an unimpressed curlybrow.

"You stupid moron, I ought to beat you to pulp right now." Zoro's voice was literally a growl now and Sanji could barely understand what he was saying. He tried to pull away, But the swordsman held him in place.

"Did they give you something to drink?"

Sanji's eyebrow disappeared in his bangs at the obvious question. "Of course they did. All they wanna do is drink and fuck-"

"That's not what I meant!" Zoro snapped. "Did they give you a small bottle or vial or something?"

"How 'bout a can?"

Zoro's eye nearly popped out of it's socket. "A can? You drank a can of aphrodisiac?!"

Sanji stared at him like he'd lost his mind. "What?"

Zoro groaned and shut his eye. He rammed his forehead against the cook's for good measure, satisfied with the surprised yelp.

"What the fuck was that for you-" This time Sanji was the one who was cut off by Zoro's mouth. He grunted in surprise and bent backwards just as the other bent forwards over him. Sanji was nearly half bent at the waist, as he finally reciprocated in the kiss, his eyes drifting shut.

The arm around the blond's waist tightened and Sanji groaned into Zoro's mouth as their hips ground together. They pulled back, both gasping for air and Zoro smirked at the wanton expression on Sanji's face.

"Looks like we'll have to take care of this huh?" The swordsman ground his hips against the cook's, earning him another low groan. But suddenly, Sanji had wrenched out of his grip and turned away, smoothing his skimpy outfit.

"Sorry, but I can't do anything unless you pay. Plus I've already a customer whose willing to cough up quite a bit." Sanji's blue eye glanced at Zoro over his shoulder indifferently, though the painful bulge in his already tight pant said otherwise.

"Not my fault I had to drink a can of aphrodisiac." Actually it was, but he wasn't going to tell the Marimo that. Zoro simply looked on unimpressed.

"So what happens if I don't buy you?"

"You get a replay of what happened to you before." Sanji turned around and started to walk back to his waiting guest, he knew he'd be punished for dawdling. The blond swallowed the lump in his throat yet his confident stride gave nothing away.

Zoro simply watched the other man walk out of the alley and towards the building where he 'worked'. The swordsman looked at the ground in between his feet and scowled. He didn't know what had happened – especially why he had acted the way he did – or so he was trying to convince himself, but it was obviously failing. This encounter made it clear to Zoro what their roles were. Zoro was supposed to be dead and Sanji was paying the price to keep the farce alive. He swallowed and clutched at his throat. It was too fucking much. There was no fucking way he was going to let the stupid cook sacrifice himself so Zoro could escape using death as an excuse. But he knew there was nothing he could do. There was no way he could come back here and work like before, he'd rather be dead. And he knew what Sanji was doing was for him. Despite how the other acted. He knew it perfectly well. Simply because he would do the same had he been in the blond's place. Anything for a Nakama.

Zoro clenched his fist and took a deep breath. Yet he didn't want to owe the other, Sanji least of all. He already owed him for keeping his mouth shut about the Thriller Bark incident. He wasn't going to fucking owe him any more. Especially not his life. Yet Zoro found himself walking away, keeping an eye out for someone who might shoot him through the head. He knew that despite what the other thought, Sanji was safer where he was than out in the open.