RelationShipwreck

Chapter 4: Than the Seas I'm Sailing On

What's wrong with me?

Zoro lay awake in bed, sweating buckets. In the bunk above him he could hear Sanji's soft snores, so he knew his nakama was still sleeping peacefully.

Unlike me. What the hell kind of dream was that?

When he lost the fight with Sanji that afternoon thanks to strange thoughts of collarbones and nuzzling, he chalked it up to a bit of leftover crazy from his drunken escapade.

When the blond teased him at dinner about what the boys would ask him, and his mock-questions turned lewd in his mind, Zoro felt a bit concerned. It was odd for him to twist innocent remarks like that.

When Sanji's face darkened upon hearing the young sailors speak of their molesting crewmate, the swordsman wondered if some of his nakama's defensiveness came from past harassment. Even though he was confident Sanji could take care of himself, he filled with anger instead of amusement, and the change confused him.

When the calm of his evening training was shattered by a flight of fancy that could be described at best as disturbing, and at worse perverse, it was safe to say he was feeling alarmed.

After this dream though, panic was beginning to look like the right word.

It flashed through his thoughts again, blatantly ignoring his attempts to clear his mind. He was on the deck, battling with Sanji, when the blond suddenly sent him careening onto his back. As his vision cleared from the knock on his noggin, he realized that Sanji was leaning over him—no, he was straddling him—all sweaty and flushed and gasping from his exertions. A long fingered hand reached out to touch the tip of the scar that marked his chest, and traced it down, down, down to his hip. Sanji's hand paused there, while the other splayed onto the deck to support the cook as he leaned over and whispered into his ear.

"Say, Zoro…" his breath tickled his earlobe as Sanji actually addressed him by name. "Can I touch your sword?"

It was at this point that Zoro had awoken with a start, partly because he was hard as hell, but mostly because it was too much for his suspension of disbelief. He sat up, holding his head and trying to get rid of his problem through sheer willpower. The swordsman had always avoided entanglements of the sexual nature, believing that the path to becoming the World's Greatest would only come through a single-minded dedication and passion to his art.

Now he was starting to wonder if he was just repressed. He was fantasizing about Sanji, for crying out loud! The most irritating bastard he ever had the displeasure of getting saddled with! Moody, two-faced, girl-obsessed, vengeful, crazy—

-Strong, agile, powerful, challenging—

Cut that out, Zoro ordered his betraying mind. Honestly, just because the cook was his only nakama present didn't mean he had to be nice to him, much less praise him in his private thoughts.

-Good looking.

What? No. Just because he has nice hair doesn't mean I find him attractive. Just look at that stupid eyebrow!

-Lean.

Fine, I can admit that one. There's a lot of muscle packed into that skinny frame. Are you done now?

Silence.

Good. He flopped back onto his bed, determined to return to sleep. It was only a few hours until dawn, and he planned to be up and training by the light of the sun's first rays. The sheets were still warm, if a bit damp from sweat, and he waited for their softness and the gentle rocking of the ship to lull him back to unconsciousness.

-Flex-i-ble.

A hundred dirty images involving long, pale legs in unlikely positions flooded his brain. Zoro leaped out of bed, barely avoiding tripping over his sheet as he stormed out of the sleeping quarters for the bathroom, cursing the entire way.

Whatever it was that possessed him to lock lips with Sanji that drunken night in Kamabakka, it seemed to have unlocked a floodgate he hadn't even known he was holding closed.

* * *

Dawn came, dreary and drizzly and exactly like Zoro's mood. He stood on the deck, once again endlessly moving through the forms with his swords. By the time Sanji emerged from below for his morning smoke, he had slipped into the calm, controlled zone he usually found so easy to obtain. The blond flicked his lighter and stared up at the foreboding clouds with a frown.

"Well, at least we may finally get some wind so this ship can start moving."

Swish, swish, swish. Zoro tried to ignore the feeling of Sanji's eyes on his back. There was nothing different about them. Only his perception of them had changed.

"You look tired."

He paused, turning in slow motion to glare at the cook. Sanji absorbed the look, completely unfazed. He took one last drag on the cigarette before tossing it into the ocean. "Come on into the kitchen, I'll fix you a pick-me-up." He walked away before Zoro could refuse, so the green-haired man had little choice but to follow.

The mess hall was dimly lit despite the numerous portholes, thanks to the storm clouds hiding the sun. Sanji flicked on a few of the mechanical lamps as he moved into the kitchen, Zoro dragging his feet behind him. He really didn't want to be alone with the object of his consternation right now.

"So… should I be thanking Captain Seeker and his lack of female crewmembers for your newfound generosity?"

The cook didn't bother taking his eyes off the fruits and vegetables he had selected, quickly chopping them up and mashing them together. "Can't I take an interest in a nakama's health when he obviously isn't feeling well?"

"You can…"

For some reason, this made the blond grin. Stirring the disgusting looking mixture up with water and some alcohol, he poured it into a large mug and presented it to the frowning swordsman. "But I'm nice to everyone but you?"

Zoro paused in the middle of taking the mug, staring in surprise at the cook.

"It's what you said when you were drunk," he clarified, amused. "I had no idea you had such thin skin."

"I do not," Zoro retorted, snatching the mug and chugging down its lumpy contents. Sanji grinned wider, waiting in anticipation.

He was not disappointed. Zoro lowered the drink with a look of disgust plastered across his face. "What the hell is this crap?"

"I told you, a pick-me-up. Don't you feel more awake now?"

Zoro scowled, but couldn't deny it. "I think I'd rather have been tired, thanks." He shrugged off Sanji's smug amusement and slunk back up to the deck to resume his katas. It was still drizzly and damp, which reminded him that he would need to oil his swords soon to protect them from rusting, which reminded him of yesterday's daydream. He sighed in frustration.

It seemed karma had it out for his ass.

* * *

Sanji's grin faded as he washed off the knives he'd used. It would be so much easier if Zoro really was just sick, he thought with a sigh. Easily distracted, losing his rhythm, tossing and turning at night… I wonder how much longer I have before he figures out the root of his problem?

What will I do then? What will he do?

Amusing as it was to see Zoro losing his cool and know that he caused it, the fact remained that it was still a serious dilemma. Sanji liked women, and Zoro liked… men? Not that the cook had ever seen the swordsman look lustfully at anyone. Battle-lust, maybe. He usually fought men, but he wouldn't turn down a fight with a woman either, the bastard. Perhaps he really did expend all his testosterone in fighting; it would explain how he always turned down every opportunity to peep on Nami, even when she was in a flashing mood. Although that also could be because he couldn't afford to go further into debt…

Mmmmm, Happiness Punch. Best 100,000 beli I've ever been charged!

Where was I? Right, Zoro.

Whatever label the marimo fit under wasn't important, really. All that mattered was that it looked like he'd finally noticed someone, and that someone was Sanji. The cook couldn't say that he was squeamish about the concept anymore, because he had rewired that part of his brain just for Zoro's sake, but no amount of mental tinkering could remove his love for the ladies.

So… what am I going to do?

Before Sanji could circle through his woes again, he was mercifully interrupted by a head peeking into the kitchen. "Oh, hey there Frey. What can I do for you? Don't tell me you're volunteering for kitchen duty again?"

"Maybe?" He scratched his brown hair and as he stared at his shoes. "Would it be alright if I watched you work?"

"Sure, I don't mind. Hop on over here." The freckled face brightened as the teenager moved closer, resting his hands on one of the countertops. He watched quietly as Sanji measured and poured large scoops of flour into several mixing bowls.

"You interested in cooking?" the blond asked after a while.

"N-not really."

"Hmm." Sanji worked a few more minutes in silence.

"So… how long have you and Zoro-san been friends?"

Sanji barked a laugh. "We've known each other for less than a year, though we've had so many adventures it feels like forever. As for us being friends… well, I suppose we're closer than we used to be, but we still fight like cats and dogs."

"Why?"

"We just rub each other the wrong way. Too different, I guess."

"Different?"

"He's an uncouth, brainless, work-dodging, brawn-obsessed lout with no respect for the ladies. And no tastebuds."

There was a minute or two of quiet, punctuated only by the sound of a wooden spoon swirling through a bowl of powdery ingredients. Sanji glanced over to see Frey staring downwards, picking listlessly at his shirt.

Sigh. "What?"

"I think he's pretty nice. Now, anyway."

"Now?"

"He was really quiet before. A little scary. When he was supposed to work he worked, but he didn't talk to anyone. He ate by himself, and when he trained he glared at anyone who tried to interrupt."

"Che. The bastard was probably just beating himself up over losing. Thinks he's the last line of defense, or something. Don't worry, I'm here now to kick some sense into him whenever he starts brooding over crap like that."

"M-maybe I could… cheer him up?"

The sound of stirring stopped, filling the kitchen with silence. Sanji turned around very slowly, taking in Frey's rapidly deepening blush.

Oh. And here I thought I was the one he liked. Turns out he's just too shy to talk to the real object of his crush.

"And what makes you think," he enquired, crossing his arms and leaning back against the counter, "that Zoro would be interested in that sort of cheering?"

Fidgeting horribly, Frey stared at his toes and mumbled. "My brother said he saw him kiss a male okama while we were at shore."

Sanji was briefly grateful he had put the spoon down, or else he would have snapped it in half. That's it. Paul's dead.

"He won't talk about it anymore since we set sail, so I guess Zoro-san told him not to."

Okay, Paul's slightly less dead.

"You've known him for a while, so I was hoping you could tell me if… if… if I have a chance. I mean, I'm not an okama or anything, but I suppose I could try it—"

"Stop."

Frey looked rather relieved to be interrupted before he could ramble himself further into embarrassment. Sanji took a few steps closer, laying a hand on the brown hair and leaning over so he could look into the down-turned eyes.

"I'm sorry, kid, but you're not his type," he said gently but firmly. "Besides, marimo doesn't do anything half-heartedly, and you already have a family and good friends here. Would you really want to leave those bonds to live the dangerous kind of life we do, chasing our dreams?"

The tomato-faced boy looked like he'd rather dash off at this point, but he gave the question proper consideration before shaking his head. "No, I guess not."

Sanji took mercy on the kid and turned back to his cooking so Frey could compose himself. "I seem to running low on baking powder—be a good lad and check the storage room for more, won't you? Don't forget to keep an eye out for Rabid Dan."

The sound of footsteps marked his visitor's eager retreat, leaving the cook alone in an empty kitchen once more. He stared into a mixing bowl, as if looking for answers in the off-white swirls. His imagination failed him, however, because he could not make out a single recognizable shape.

Teenagers. I'll be so glad when I'm not one anymore.

Hmmm. I have too much fun with italics.

Next chapter is very long. And action-packed. (Not that kind of action, get your mind out of the gutter.)

As usual, many thanks for your reviews! I really do consider the points you bring up, and have been fitting some of them into later chapters! So by all means, feel free to leave suggestions if you have any. Preferably more helpful than "more man-pr0n." Don't be surprised if I give you a virtual bop on the head for that. :P