The first thing that hit him as he walked through the apartment's doorway was just how huge Zoro's kitchen was. It had to be around 300 sq ft in size at least, its excessive bounty of bare counter space almost begging to be filled with culinary masterpieces and Sanji shifted uncomfortably as the all too familiar urges stirred up inside, his hands itching for the release cooking brought about. His hands curled restlessly as he desperately tried to quell the longing to return to his previous occupation. Sanji's gaze dropped to the floor in an attempt to distract himself and found himself slightly taken aback by how clean it was until he saw the small trail of droplets leading to a heap of trash and emptied booze bottles piled neatly into the corner of the room.
The second thing that hit him was the smell, a foul musky odor of sweat and booze, as well as the floral scent of air freshener and household cleaners. A smirk flitted across his lips at the thought of the green haired bastard rushing to make his apartment appear clean for the blonde's arrival, but he felt the smirk slowly slide off his face as he wandered from the kitchen into the living room. His curled eyebrows shot up as his gaze wandered back and forth from the barren room and Zoro's expressionless form, trying to reconcile his temporary sleeping arrangements in his head.
"Oi, Zoro," Sanji started, his eyes warily darting around the nearly empty room, "Where the fuck is your couch?" Along with the lack of couch, he noticed a very distinct lack of any type of decorative furniture, the only things in the room appearing to just be a large exercise mat with a series of ordered weights laying on top. The carpet had obviously not been vacuumed recently, a fine layer of dust liberally graced the far corner of the room, abandoned and neglected by its unattentive owner with only a small handful of disrupted shoe prints here and there. Apprehension grew unsteadily inside him, Sanji had been planning to stay on the couch in order to minimize the amount of space he occupied but shooting a quick look at Zoro nonchalant shrug only seemed to confirm his suspicions.
"Never bothered to get one. No need. Why, what's the problem?" Sanji's eyebrows shot up high in disbelief as he stared at the shitty marimo. He'd always known Zoro to be a bit dense but there was no way he could be this dense, the swordsman's unaffected attitude just serving to piss off the blonde further and he could feel his teeth grit together in anger as he struggled to maintain control over his face and tone. After all, Zoro had been the one to invite him over, it's not like he wouldn't have made the necessary preparations for the blonde to actually stay, right?
"The problem is where the fuck you expect me to sleep, dumbass. I understand you enjoy living like a damn caveman but not everyone wants to lay down on the floor all the time like you seem to enjoy if this," —his hand swept out over the room, devoid of anything besides the mat and weights— "tells you anything at all about your nature." Zoro scowled angrily, his steel grey eye locked onto Sanji's cerulean orbs, his forehead furrowing at the insult and heavy sarcasm tinting his voice when he responded.
"Your royal highness will be sleeping in my bed, I usually don't even bother sleeping there, it's too cushiony and soft for me to get comfortable." He paused, scratching his head as he tried to pretend not to notice the furious glare Sanji fixed him with before continuing. "The sheets are clean by the way." Sanji rolled his eyes at the marimo, a sigh of relief slipping silently between unintentionally pouted lips. He wouldn't have minded had the sheets been slept in, not that he would ever let Zoro know that, but fresh sheets were always comforting.
"I'd sure as hell hope they're clean. No one in their right fucking mind wants to sleep in a bed filled with your sweaty neanderthal stench and fluids anyways." The blonde muttered, ignoring Zoro's snarl, and instead choosing to focus his attention on the unexplored portion of the apartment by throwing the bedroom door open, almost expecting it to be as barren as the rest of the rooms had been. But the bedroom at least felt lived in, clothes strewn lazily over the floor in haphazard piles, protein powder stacked precariously in the corner seeming ready to spill over the floor at any given moment and an unmade mattress lying on the floor in the corner, fresh sheets sitting unfolded in a heap in the middle.
Sanji blinked as he looked at the mattress, his eyes sliding shut and his hand wandering up to pinch the bridge of his nose before he had even noticed. He could feel Zoro watching him in veiled concern but he was about ready to smack that look off the shitty marimo's face when he just sighed, understanding the neanderthal was not likely to understand why he was upset in the first place. At least a mattress on the floor was sure to be a hell of a lot more comfortable that the piece of shit hospital bed he had just spent the past couple days sleeping uncomfortably on, that was a plus. Fingers fumbling quickly in his shirt pocket, the blonde snagged a cigarette from the box and fished out his lighter, the flame flickering against the tobacco for a moment before he took a deep drag in. The familiar comforting burn in his lungs seemed to momentarily soothe his nerves, Sanji savoring each puff before blowing them out slowly, watching the smoke float lazily in midair as it dissipated gradually. Another sigh stole through his lips as Sanji wandered over to the bedside, staring down at the rumpled pile of mint colored sheets. He considered the notion of putting off making the bed until later but he knew postponing it would only serve to rile him up further over the inopportune sleeping arrangement and abandoned the thought, kneeling down to grab the fitted sheet and cursing the green haired bastard for simply standing in the doorway, watching.
By the time he had finished making the bed and exploring the rest of the apartment —not that there had really been that much else to see— he made his way back into the kitchen to see Zoro standing over the stove, panic written on his features as he stared at the dark tendrils of smoke creeping out of the corners of the oven door. His eyes darted towards Sanji as he heard the blonde's footsteps approaching but his attention was drawn back to the smoke almost immediately as a loud beeping filled the air. Sanji cursed loudly and ran to the front door, throwing it open wide before pushing Zoro out of the way and opening the oven door, his face covered slightly by his shirt as the trapped smoke was freed. The blonde wasn't quite sure as to origins of the thoroughly charred pieces of meat that sat inside, but what he did know was that they were no longer edible nor could they be considered food at this point so he began to scrape them into the garbage, a grimace on his face as he considered the wastefulness of the situation. Zoro could see the conflicted look on Sanji's face as he mentally waged war on himself over his undying love of the kitchen and the swordsman decided to throw curlybrow a line in order to avoid him sinking into another depressive state.
"There's some more ingredients in the refrigerator but not enough for me to be able to make anything worthwhile. Why don't you take a crack at making dinner? We all know you can make decent food appear out of basically nothing..." Sanji turned towards the green haired bastard, an incredulous look briefly gracing his features before he regained his composure, his mind still at war with itself but feeling slightly less conflicted. Of course Zoro wouldn't be able to cook himself anything, he was a real bull in a China shop when it came to working in the kitchen, but Sanji could still feel a bit of doubt about cooking anything for them. After all, it had been months since the allegations that had stripped him of his job, his income, and his pride but Sanji still felt uncomfortable at the thought of cooking, at the thought of trying to return to his previous normal state. As if Zoro could sense the blonde's mental struggle, he slapped a hand down onto Sanji's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze before wandering off into the living room. "You've got this, dartbrow, it's just a little bit of food."
Sanji's eyes followed the swordsman as he left the room, panic flashing hastily in his ocean blue eyes before he silently reprimanded himself and focused on the task at hand. He was half tempted to throw a quip back at Zoro, he hadn't needed the caveman's shitty confirmation of his culinary abilities, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he turned towards the fridge. Time to show the green haired bastard what he could really do in the kitchen, choice ingredients or not, he wasn't about to back down from a blatant challenge of his abilities. But as he opened the fridge, he realized Zoro hadn't been exaggerating when he said he barely had any ingredients, just the basics like milk, eggs, salt, pepper, and butter. A couple packs of bacon were hidden inside one of the lower drawers as well as a lone scraggly bell pepper and, to Sanji's disgust, a long since expired bunch of grapes, their pungent moldy scent almost making the blonde gag as he rushed to throw it in the outside trash can. Returning inside, he found Zoro staring curiously at him from the living room doorway and Sanji couldn't resist telling him off.
"For not having much food to eat, how did you manage to leave those grapes in there for so long? They'd grown their own fucking ecosystem, shitty marimo." He shot a glance at the swordsman to ensure that his message was getting across and watched as Zoro just nonchalantly scratched the back of his head. "Fucking clean that shit up yourself next time, asshole. I don't want to see your wasted moldy ass food anymore." Sanji turned around to return to his preparations at the same time Zoro grumbled something rude sounding, but by the time Sanji had swung back around to confront him, the swordsman was already heading back into the living room.
Shrugging at the avoided conflict, he returned to preparations, deciding that breakfast foods were about as much as he was going to be able to scrape together from the sparse ingredients he'd been given to work with. Smiling to himself, he set to work breaking eggs swiftly into a bowl before whisking in milk and seasonings, making sure they were thoroughly blended before setting the bowl off to the side. Sparking up another cigarette, he began to separate the bacon slices from each other and laid them side by side in a frying pan, careful to avoid the popping grease when he could, muttering harshly under his breath when he couldn't, until the bacon was at an acceptable crispness. He lightly dabbed at the bacon with a paper towel before stacking the half of the bacon onto a cutting board, the rest safely placed off on a paper towel covered plate to absorb the extra grease and avoid making a mess. After rough chopping the bacon and throwing it into the bowl of eggs, he stirred them slightly and poured half of the egg mixture back into the greased frying pan, waiting a few moments before flipping the newly made omelet over so as to let it cook evenly. Sanji gently folded the first omelet and pulled it off the heat, readying the pan for the remaining eggs when movement caught his eye.
Zoro stood in the kitchen behind him, eyes glued to the chef's as his hand twitched, frozen right next to the plate of bacon slices which he had obviously been pilfering, if the glistening oiliness of his lips were any indication. They continued to lock eyes until the swordsman's stomach decided to interrupt them with a fierce growl, Zoro's cheeks tinting slightly as he snatched another piece of bacon, embarrassed eyes seeming to dare Sanji to try and take it from him as he backed his way out of the room. Sanji let him go, eyes sparkling with amusement at the sight of the chagrined marimo, before returning to making the last omelet and, after accidentally discovering a loaf of bread tucked away in what Sanji had initially assumed to be the silverware drawer, added some toast to their breakfast themed meal.
After scouring around for another couple minutes, Sanji discovered a container of paper plates as well as plastic silverware in the same cabinet and set about building their plates before bringing them out to the living room where Zoro sat absently in the middle of the floor, eyes shut tight. But when the hot plate of food was unceremoniously dropped in front of him, his good eye peeled open and he immediately set in on the food, not bothering to offer thanks but instead choosing to stuff his face as fast as possible in order to return to his meditations. Sanji sighed, unsure of what he had hoped to happen, and made himself comfortable up against the wall behind the swordsman before digging into the plain meal himself. He was so entranced by the thought of finally getting something other than hospital grub in his stomach that he almost missed Zoro's hushed comment. Almost.
"The food was edible, thanks."
Sani couldn't seem to wipe the resulting smirk from his face.
Hey ya'll! So I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I had a lot of fun writing it these past couple days :)
I'd love to see whatever comments yall have for me so if you don't mind reviewing I would really appreciate it, I always feel so happy when someone takes the time to tell me what they think or how they felt! I will def try to have the next chapter out soon ya'll, thank you for being patient with me!