Fuck, Sanji thought when he realized that he had left his fucking house keys at Zoro's place. Of course that meant going back to the house and interrupting the pair of lovers who were possibly getting hot with one another.

"Nami-san," he said as he stopped walking. "I have to go back. I forgot my keys at his house, but you should go on ahead."

The red haired woman frowned, expression distinct under the fluorescent light of the lamp standing above her, "Wait, Sanji-kun." An alarmed tone of voice.

Ah, her opinion of him probably dropped immensely. How could he leave such a beautiful woman to walk at night in these dangerous streets all by herself? "I'm so sorry, Nami-san, I should call a taxi first." His fingers dug into the inner flap of his jacket, pulling out his slick cellphone from his buttoned pocket.

She crossed her arms across her chest, insisting, "I'm fine, Sanji, I can take care of myself." Although her words were sharp as knives, her expression was tender, enough to melt Sanji's heart in this freezing weather. "You can sleep at my house tonight, pick up your keys tomorrow," she suggested, gently.

Sanji smiled.

Though the pleasant offer sounded rather... inviting, he preferred to pick up his keys now than to bother with it the next day. "My darling, I'm so happy that you worry for me, but it's really alright." She was so sweet, but he was alright. If anything, he should have been the one worried.

The woman sighed, "Okay, Sanji-kun, call me if anything is up. And don't call a taxi, Luffy's been teaching me how to fight lately, I can take care of myself." She winked at the end.

"Okay, get home safely, Nami-san. Call me if anything is up, alright? I'll kick any bastard who goes ten miles near you." He couldn't help it. Ever since they were young, he had been protective of her.

Nami smiled, "Bye-bye, Sanji-kun, I'll see you soon."

Then her short strands of hair rustled behind her with the touch of the night breeze, as her long legs carried her away from where the blond man stood.

He began to run, full speed, toward Zoro's house, the whooshing wind buzzing by his ears and his own heartbeat going out of the radar, thumping each time the bottom of his shoe touched the ground. He was thinking, always thinking, that he knew what to expect at the swordsman's place, the reason why his beloved tried to stop him from going there. But he was still running, ready to see it with his own two eyes, trying to prove something to his inner consciousness.

But what exactly he was trying to prove, he had no idea. Perhaps a test to himself, to see if these so-called feelings actually existed.

A strange uneasiness began to creep, like a spider web, around his heart. The voice of confidence in his head slowly lost its voice, the sudden diminuendo of encouragement replaced by anxiety. And by the time he reached the house, just a few blocks down and a turn of a corner, really, not that far, he was shitting bricks.

Fuck.

He wanted to prove that the swordsman wasn't doing anything intimate in there with Kuina because the only person in his mind had been Sanji all along, never the beautiful raven haired woman. Zoro thought she was the one at first until he met Sanji, the one who changed the strings of his fate. Then... they would kiss? Touch? Go out?

I had not even known the man for a week, so what the fuck.

Sanji tapped his hollow knuckles against the door. When there weren't any responses, even when the volume of his knuckles became louder, his hands instinctively twisted the doorknob (which was still open, that dumb-ass). Though he was intruding, the reason why he was nervous wasn't because of that. Sanji noiselessly walked down the dark hallway, took his shoes off before entering, and turned toward the kitchen where the lights were still on. He immediately spotted his keys resting on the counter top, which he grabbed and tucked inside his jean pocket.

Where...?

The optimistic side told him that Zoro was just out driving Kuina home. But, since Kuina's car was still parked outside, that probably wasn't the case. Maybe the pair of them were sleeping, and just sleeping inside the bedroom? What the fuck am I doing? he thought as he approached the bedroom door instead of getting the fuck out of Zoro's house.

It's not right.

He turned to leave, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, until he heard a woman's chuckle behind him.

A cold chill ran down his spine. His breaths became heavy on his lungs. His body frozen, immobilized, and nauseated. Fuck, just keep moving, he told himself, willing his legs to get him the fuck out of here. But his intrigued mind pulled him back to the door, where there was a small crack, as though all was planned for Sanji to peep inside.

"Zoro," the woman moaned, quietly, from inside. "Zoro."

The blond saw the two in bed, marimo on top of the woman, and thank god for the blankets covering his backside. Bed creaking, harsh intakes of breaths, moans and groans, nonsensical words, repetitive gasps of the partner's names. Yeah, he was definitely viewing a sex scene. And fuck, was he supposed to be turned on? Because his penis never felt so flaccid. He felt ill instead, stomach churning, head swirling, and skin burning. And although he should have walked away by now, his feet were grounded to the floor, unable to take a simple step backwards. He was in this uncanny trance, terribly piqued by the private scene he was witnessing, seeing the swordsman in bed.

Sanji wanted to curse at them, act deranged, but what would be the point? It was only he who felt these emotions, only he who felt weak to the knees, and only he who acted this cowardly.

"Hah... Kuina, hah... I love you."

There it was, a soft voice that warped Sanji out of his trance, snapped the reality back inside his head. A passionate, affectionate, soft tone of voice that he'd never heard before.

Sanji took two steps backwards before fully turning around his body to dash out of the house, the keys in his pocket jingling from his legs in constant motion.

Devoid of any emotion or reaction, he continued to run down the empty sidewalk, panting harshly. Eventually he came to a stop to light himself a cigarette or two, or five, he lost count. One after the other, to soothe his buzzing soul, he despondently sucked on them.

But even so, the shitty nauseating feeling did not go away.

Zoro awoke first, his bare chest exposed, but below his hips covered by the bed sheets.

Holding the most beautiful woman in his arms, breathing noiselessly, he thought about the night they shared. Their bond had not been limited to a pure physical one, as he had initially expected, but a more profound bond that connected them emotionally and spiritually, as though they had heart to heart conversations, shared their most proudest and darkest secrets moments.

The manner in which she moaned with every touch, caved in to his soft kisses on her lips, gasped his name and closed her eyes at her climax, it was so beautiful.

Kuina stirred from her sleep, gazed at the clock on the nightstand, and alarmingly sat up. Her eyes wide and alarmed.

"Zoro! I have to go, my father must be worried sick," she groaned with worry, her breasts exposed to the air and Zoro's eyes."But I have to get dressed first."

The green haired man nodded, watching Kuina hop around with jeans crumbled under her feet, shirt halfway down her waist. And before leaving, she kissed his forehead and whispered, "Last night was great, Zoro. I love you."

"I love you, too."

Though he wanted to pull her back to bed and make love to her over and over again, he simply watched her leave, feeling needy and— for the first time—sexually frustrated. He sank back to the comfort of his bed, wanting to fall asleep, but before he could fall out of consciousness, an annoying ringtone rang.

Annoyed, he picked up the phone, "Hello?"

"Hello? Marimo? Yeah, you're really late, fucking idiot. I have to go to the dojo now, just meet me there, capiche?"

Zoro rubbed his eyes, still drowsy from his sleep, "Sanji?"

The man on the other line sighed, "No, it's your fucking mother. Of course it's me, dimwit, now get your lazy ass here and assist me like you promised, or I'll add another week and make you my slave."

The swordsman rolled his eyes, "Did you eat some bitch-o's this morning, cook? Why do you have a stick up your ass?" he smirked because he knew his comment had crossed the line of 'respect' that never really existed between them.

He pulled the phone away from his ear as the blond screamed out insults on the other line.

"Yeah, okay, love ya too, idiot cook," Zoro told the man, jokingly.

There was a beat of silence until Sanji spoke again, sounding weak, "I'll see you later." Then the call ended with an abrupt click.

.~.~.~.~.

The blond was high kicking, body twisting, and swinging his legs to demonstrate a technique for the children at the dojo, his spine bending with such flexibility that Zoro wondered how he was still all in one piece. At times like these, plus the times they fight, it always proved what a phenomenal martial artist Sanji was, like he himself was when swords were involved.

One of the children recognized him standing by the door, "Zoro sensei!" the kid shouted.

Kids were so bothersome but he could not really complain when they were respecting his very presence, enough to bother the crap out of Sanji. In fact, the blond should learn a thing or two from these children, about respecting a person who was clearly better than him.

Sanji rolled his eyes, "You're late, marimo." He turned to the kid who shouted the swordsman's name with an eyebrow raised, "where did you learn that word, sensei?"

The green haired man interjected, "I taught them."

"You late-ass, don't brainwash these kids!" Sanji ground his teeth, growling a bit.

From behind them, a familiar voice called out, "I see that you guys are fighting as usual!" Zoro turned to see the two raven haired brothers walking toward the with jubilant grins on their faces.

The swordsman frowned, what the-

"What are you doing here?" he asked, confused as hell. What the fuck are these D brothers doing here?

Ace, with a mischievous smile and an innocent flash of teeth, answered, "We just found out where Sanji worked at, and since we were bored, we just got part time jobs here."

Sanji's eyes widened, "Wait, wait, did you guys search where I worked or something? How did- I mean, isn't that illegal?"

"Is it?" The two brothers shrugged.

The younger brother, the one who always wore his straw hat, turned toward his older brother and announced, "I'm gonna walk around the place, Ace." Then he turned away from the group and began to march away, whistling to himself.

"Wait, oi, Luffy!" Ace called out, going after his younger brother.

The blond groaned to himself, peevishly, "Get out everyone, I have a class."

Zoro frowned, "Even me?" he asked.

Why did he come here then?

"What do you mean, even me? Of course, even you. Don't be expecting a special treatment, go to my house and clean or something, whatever it is that you do on your off hours," Sanji told him as he pushed the swordsman and his friends out the door. "Now stay outside until I'm finished with my shift, shitty marimo."

"Wait, stupid cook!" But the door slammed in his face. Why did he come all the way here, waste time, just to be kicked out at the end?

Without the two brothers since they'd both decided to stay behind, Zoro walked out of the building and walked around, feeling somewhat odd. For some reason, the blond had been acting a tad bit different from usual, more stiff and strained, and his anger a little more forced. Rather than the aura of ass-kicking intensity the blond usually radiated, today's was gloomy and dispirited. It wasn't his business, not at all since everybody had their bad days, but it still bothered him. Just a tiny bit, he wondered what was wrong with the cook.

Where am I? he wondered about that too. Why do they keep changing the city around?

He knew the blond's address by heart, not that he had taken time over it, just stuck on his mind like burnt pasta on the bottom of a pot. The problem was, he did not know how to get there without a GPS.

Zoro sighed.

He did not even have his wallet with him, he had left it at home. All he could do now was wait around until the blond was finished with his shift, then call him on the phone, be over with all the banters about being a 'lost child' or whatever the blond called him when he couldn't find his way around. Zoro tucked his hands into his pockets, the weather was warmer than usual but still chilly, he decided to head back to the dojo, back to where he came from.

The swordsman made a few turns here and there, the streets as he remembered it, traced back the familiar, but instead of the dojo he ended up at a foreign place. A clean street, a few cars passing about, but civilians rushing everywhere.

What the fuck?

The people walking around had furred coats, high heels, emporio armani suits, and chanel perfumes choking Zoro as they passed by. In the midst of the crowd that emitted prestigious auras, a young grimy boy with dirt on his face cried out, "Someone help me, where is my mommy? I want my mommy."

Zoro clicked his tongue in disinclination when he heard those high pitched whines. "If you keep crying like that you're gonna blow out your voice," he grumbled to the boy who appeared to be out of his diapers but not enough to be in school. He had fair hair and freckles on his face, body pushed onto the edge of the sidewalk because of the roughness of rushing civilians, tears from his downcast eyes streaming down his cheeks until he heard Zoro speaking to him.

"C-Can you please help me?" he asked, rubbing the collected moisture from his eyes with his palms. "I don't know where my mom is, she told me to wait somewhere but I didn't listen to her."

The boy's dirty appearance was what warded him away from all these snobs walking around with their noses high. Despite him being in his young age, alone, with no guardian around, Zoro was the first to approach him. "Yeah, I could take you to the stations so they can take you home." The child grinned up at him, and he somewhat reminded Zoro of Chopper. Both with childlike brown eyes and long lashes, quite similar.

His fingers grabbed the hem of the swordsman's shirt, gripping it tightly into the small balls of his hands.

"Oi, I never said hold onto me," Zoro complained, twitching internally.

"But I always hold my mom like this."

The green haired man grunted, "I'm not your mom though..." But he did not shake the boy's tiny hands off because he knew the boy was still trembling with fear. "What's your name?" Zoro asked, not really curious but for the sake of putting the fear out of the boy's mind.

"My name is Nicholas, my mom told me that it means 'victory of the people,' what about you, mister?"

"Zoro."

At the sound of his name, a hint of glimmer lit up in Nicholas' eyes with such awe that it took Zoro back. "Like that sword guy from the movies! Can you fight? Can you use swords?"

Zoro's lips curled into a smirk, "I fight with three swords." He heard the 'Zorro' comment plenty of times in the past but he didn't mind much, since most were admiration like Nicholas's anyways.

The boy's jaw dropped, "No way! I want to see, please!" He was so excited, trembling again but from anticipation this time.

"I don't have my swords right now-"Nicholas' face dropped, disappointment oozing from the slump of his body, "-but when I become the world's greatest swordsman, you can come and see one of my fights. I'll invite you," he promised. Hell, when he becomes the best he will invite the whole world to see his fights.

The child cheered, shouting 'yay' repetitively, until he abruptly stopped to glance at Zoro warily. "Mister?" he squeaked.

"Yeah?"

"Are- Are you a... kidnapper?"

If there had been water in Zoro's mouth, he would have done a spit take. "W-What makes you think that?"

The boy released the hem of his shirt, "My mom told me how strangers are dangerous when they are nice to you. You don't look evil but I'm pretty sure you can hide your evilness if you wanted to..."

Zoro tilted his head sideways to chuckle, "I don't think I'm kidnapping you."

Nicholas scrunched up his face, contemplating, before grabbing onto Zoro's shirt again. "I'll trust you but if you get weird, I'm going to leave you."

The swordsman ruffled the boy's hair, "Brat, you are going to leave me now anyways. There's the police station," he pointed at the station located on the corner of the block, found only because there was one almost every corner of the city. "They're good men, I'm sure they'll find your mom for you."

"Oh," the child released his grip again, but with a hint of sadness behind his eyes this time. "I guess this is goodbye."

"See ya," the swordsman said, with a casual wave as he began to walk away from the station doors.

"Bye! Also, GOOD LUCK!" A shout of encouragement from the boy who tore the air with his skinny arms before disappearing behind the doors.

Zoro smirked before searching for the dojo again.

It has already been half an hour since Sanji came home. He had initially assumed that Zoro had arrived a few hours ago, completely forgotten the fact that the swordsman was an idiot with directions, but seeing that that was not the case, he changed into a pair of black sweats and a yellow tank top before calling up the lost child.

The bastard didn't pick up, instead, after a couple of rings, it went to voice mail, a grouchy voice that said, "Make your message short, I'm busy," which irritated the blond hell of a lot more.

Damn, should he call the cops now? What should he say? "Sorry, I lost this grown-ass man who doesn't know from his right to left, up to down, can you find him? He has this really stupid hairstyle, it's fucking green." On a second note, that would be hilarious.

But before he could, the phone rang. It was Zoro.

"Yo," the swordsman said, casually.

Sanji's eyebrow twitched, "Oi, marimo, where the hell are you?"

"I don't know. I see a deli, some trees, and people..."

"That's not helpful," the blond snapped. "Give me numbers of streets, avenues, what stores do you see?" When Zoro replied, Sanji heaved a sigh in relief. "Okay, that's pretty close, I don't have to take a taxi. Just stay there, I'll pick you up."

He had half-expected Zoro to be in another state because he was that retarded with directions.

"Whatever, curly, just hurry up."

"Don't wander around again, directionless marimo," the blond warned.

Before hanging up the call, the last sound he heard was a faint snort.

.~.~.~.~.~.

Zoro sat on a bench in front of Applebee's, next to a man with ragged clothes who appeared homeless, having a rather friendly conversation with one another. The green haired man was slumped back, against the spine of the wooden seat, listening to the man with a tattered appearance, blackened with dirt.

"Oi, marimo!"

The swordsman jolted from his seat and turned his head toward the approaching blond. "Oi!" he called out.

"Ah, is that your friend?" the stranger asked Zoro when he stood up, appearing pleased to see Sanji.

"Yeah."

Sanji's chest pounded. He was clandestinely pleased to hear that he was Zoro's friend. It was an immense development from their first meeting of constant bantering, arguing, and fighting.

The strange man continued to speak, with a friendly toothy grin on his face this time, "Hey, thanks for listening. You're a nice guy."

"Sure, call my number if anything else is up, man. It was nice chatting with you," Zoro responded, he too with a nice smile that the blond liked seeing on his features, instead of that usual scowl that gave him a mean look.

Shit

At the sight of this scene, Sanji knew he was in trouble. This benevolent facet of Zoro's, was the side that got the blond's adrenaline running, his heart pumping in his ears, and his legs trembling until it collapsed beneath him. Fuck, he thought. Had he not realized his own emotions for the green haired man, he would not have the urge to hold his chin with his fingers to bring their lips together. This fucking attraction he had for Zoro felt much bigger this time, like a giant storm had stirred inside his stomach compared to the small breezes he felt before.

"Let's go, cook," Zoro waved his hand in motion for Sanji to follow him.

The blond focused on his moving lips, which weren't really that far, only an arm's reach to pull the man close by the back of his neck and catch him by surprise. "Uh, yeah," he responded, distractedly, as he blinked a few times to cast his attention from Zoro's lips to the man's intense gaze, who was staring at him expectantly.

Sanji realized something, "Oh, hell no. You're not leading after you got yourself lost like a fucking child."

The swordsman rolled his eyes, "Whatever, lead the way then."

An idea popped inside the blond's head. Metaphorically, a light bulb in his brain had switched on. Sanj boldly grabbed the man's hand, his thumb wrapped around Zoro's wrist so it wouldn't seem too intimate or suspicious. "If I don't keep you by the leash and keep you under my watch, I think you would somehow end up across the world."

The man struggled, "You don't need to hold my hand, shitty cook." But with each attempt to free himself, Sanji's hold on him tightened.

"I'm leashing a lost child, hold still," he replied, calmly, smirking to himself.

After contemplating and trying to shake the thinner hand off him, Zoro sighed with resignation eventually. "I helped a lost boy earlier actually, stupid ass cook, I'm not as incompetent as you think."

The blond grinned, "Of course not, you just need a little help with directions."

Zoro huffed "Fuck you" at Sanji's obvious sarcasm, but lightly, not in a serious manner at all.

Sanji was a bit proud of himself to say that their hands were linked the whole way to his house, which was only a couple of blocks, but still a feat nonetheless. They had gotten quite a lot of stare from others, but his inner turmoil were too distracting to notice those. Zoro was like a little prize he won. The girl he asked out in third grade and the feeling he acquired when she said yes. He made Sanji feel innocent and deprived of any experiences as though his high school years weren't so full of frustrated sexual partners and empty kisses. But what the blond really liked about the man was the fact that they were innately comfortable with each other— foul mouthed, hot-headed, and impulsive— or not.

With women, Sanji always had to be his polished self. Act like a gentleman. Open the doors for them. Pull out the chairs for them. Admire them for their aesthetically pleasing clothes. Watch your mouth, beautiful women are too delicate to hear such crass language. But with Zoro, he could curse the man out any time he wanted because neither of them would give a single fuck; and he was such a challenge, physically and emotionally, unlike anyone he has ever met, including his beautiful Nami. When fighting with the swordsman, he had to pull out his best moves, new moves, combination of two moves, it exhausted and stimulated him.

Fighting with Zoro was as exciting as making a new recipe, or reading about All Blue.

"Oi, cook, you can let go now. We're already inside your apartment," Zoro told the blond as he shook his hand vigorously, attempting to free them.

Damn, stop talking.

Sanji wanted to make him stop talking by the manner in which the swordsman's lips opened and closed. The blond's fixed gaze hungrily stared at the man's mouth, not noticing that Zoro had become aware of his eyes on him as well. "Stop looking at me like that, cook. I'm hungry, make something."

The blond rolled his eyes, peeved by the sudden demand. "I only take orders from ladies, marimo." He snatched his hand back. "What do you want?"

"Anything that goes along with alcohol," he replied.

Sanji raised his visible brow, "And who says I'm gonna get you alcohol?"

"As a mini celebration for the last day of the week that I'm being enslaved by you, stupid cook."

You don't have to remind me, Sanji thought. After all, he had been dreading the last moments shared with the sworsdman. The last meal before the separation of the two men.

"Fine, I'll whip up something quick." Of course, quick didn't necessary mean sloppy.

The green haired man took a seat at the table, his arms crossed in front of him, intensely staring at Sanji's backside and observing his every movement like a hawk. It really made Sanji break a sweat.

"I can almost feel your eyes on me, what are you looking at, marimo?" he asked as his hands instinctively and unconsciously performed all the tasks of cooking since it was as natural as walking.

A beat of silence before Zoro began. "You know, today is the last day we're gonna be hanging out."

Sanji grunted, "I heard you the first time."

"Let me talk, shitty dartboard." Though the blond could not exactly see the swordsman's face since his back was turned to him, he could almost imagine the troubled expression, along with the silence and the trouble of getting his words out. "I mean, you told me that you have better sleep when I'm there, so today isn't the last day we're gonna be hanging out if that offer is still up."

Wha-

In an attempt to bite down his grin, Sanji retorted with a fiery answer, "Dumb-ass, of course the offer is still valid."

With the usual mischievous grin, Zoro replied, "That means on some days I get to boss you around, curly-brows."

"You wish, fucker," the blond chuckled.

He still believed that this 'crush' would pass as quickly as it was realized, but the overwhelming sense of jubilance made it so that Sanji didn't give a shit whether he really liked the man or not. All that mattered was the fact that today wasn't their last, this meal they were about to have would not be their last, or those constant banters and nicknames and jokes they threw at each others, not a single thing would crumble after today. It was a fucking weight off his chest, a huge relief, really.

Sanji thought, to hell with a quick meal, he threw in an appetizer, the main course, a desert, and a specialized drink made by none other than himself. And though it made his skin shiver, he didn't mind those pair of Zoro's eyes staring at his backside.

As much as he loved being absorbed by his own work of art, as cooking was to him, he loved seeing the person's expression as they devoured anything Sanji had to offer them. The blond loved how the swordsman's pupils dilated with each bite, how he could not talk because his mouth was full, and etc, etc. As a chef, seeing someone else full filled him with satisfaction, as his duty was executed to the very end.

"Like it, marimo?" Sanji asked, with an affectionate smile.

The swordsman didn't respond, he simply grunted as he shoved down a spoonful of a trifle in his mouth, and when he did, his eyes enlarged as he quickly finished the rest.

When the pair of them were finished with their meal, the blond stacked up the dirty plates into the palm of his hand, the utensils stacked at the very top. "Since I cooked, help me with the dishes."

"I'll do the rest."

Sanji gaped, wondering if he had heard wrong, "You? You actually have a considerate side?"

"Fuck you, shit cook!" Zoro retorted as he took the load of stacked plates off the blond's hand, placing it inside the sink along with the empty cups.

"Hey," the cook called out behind him, weirdly turned on by this nice side of the swordsman, "You wanna fight?"

The swordsman whipped his head around, stunned but piqued. "Hell yeah."

AN: Sorry for shoving a totally OC character in there. I just love how Zoro interacts with all the children.

On a positive note, I think the romance is slowly picking up between the pair of men. I mean, still going at a slow pace at chapter 12, I'm so sorry you even started this fanfiction, but really thank you for those who did and stayed with it until now! I hope you enjoyed this chapter.