Braindeadmaggot: Ok I've got one… You know how everyone is always asking for Sanji teaching Zoro how to cook? What about Zoro teaching Sanji and the cook fails miserably? I duno what, but something easy… Nothing to do with swords, knives or fighting… Maybe something that involves finger dexterity, like the guitar, piano or video games… Maybe Sanji would be really bad at board games or jenga… Wouldn't it be terrible of Sanji was a super slow, index finger, typer… Just imagine him trying to type an email…

This was a lot of fun...

Click-Clack-NO

Zoro was walking past the bedroom in his boxers with a bowl of cereal cradled in his hand when he stopped mid-step to look at his boyfriend sitting on the bed, clacking away on his computer.

"What…. The hell are you doing?" Zoro asked slowly, looking at a scowling Sanji, whose soft face was lightly illuminated from his open laptop.

Sanji didn't look up from his screen. "What does it look like shit face? I'm typing an email." He continued to write away, ignoring the incredulous look on Zoro's face as he entered the room.

"You're kidding me right? You call that typing?"

"Hitting keys and words appear on a screen, yes, I'm typing you Neanderthal." Sanji snapped.

"No, that is pecking."

Sanji was currently typing one letter at a time with his index fingers out, poised like a strange little praying mantis as he tapped away. Despite impairing himself with his pathetic version of 'typing', Sanji was actually going pretty fast, at least for one finger typing, which could only mean he had long since perfected this horrible habit.

How a man who made a living off the skills with his hands and fingers had the worst possible typing habit Zoro couldn't understand, but he was not about to let it go. Zoro set down his bowl on the wooden dresser as he approached the bed.

"Okay I am not going to let this slide, scoot over." Zoro pushed a sulky Sanji to the side as he took a place on the bed. "Shouldn't you have learned this shit in school or something? How the hell have you been playing video games with me online all this time?"

Zoro then grabbed Sanji by the hips and hoisted him into his lap; the blond went rigid with annoyance and tightly grasped the lap top.

"Knock it off Marimo, I'm not in the mood." Trying to kick his way out of the larger man's hold, but Zoro didn't allow it, using his legs to effectively keep the cook in place. He reached around the man's torso and slapped Sanji's hands away from the keys.

"THIS is how you're supposed to have you hands when you type." Placing his fingers in the correct position on the keyboard in a matter-of-fact way. Sanji leaned back into Zoro's chest, placing his hands on either side of Zoro's hips.

"Fan-fucking-tastic moss head. Now give it back." Zoro ignored Sanji and opened up a word doc, placing his chin on top of the blond's.

"You place both index fingers here and here, and then just let your fingers fall into place." Zoro forced Sanji's hands down onto the keyboard, placing the long dainty fingers into the correct position.

"I don't like it."

"I don't care." Zoro flicked Sanji on the nose lightly and Sanji retaliated by shoving his head up to bonk Zoro's chin. "You're hands shouldn't move much when you type, let your fingers do all the work. Now try writing out that email."

Sanji started out going fast, typos everywhere, constantly going back to delete mistakes. Zoro gently grabbed onto the smaller man's forearms, now resting his smarting chin on Sanji's shoulder.

"Slow down." He said into Sanji's ear, blond strands moving so slightly from each word and breath. The cook did as he was told and typed each letter painfully slow, pressing harshly on each key. His typing began to slowly regress back to just his index fingers, as if Zoro wouldn't notice.

"For real, shit cook? Like this." He nudged his fingers on top of the blond's, placing their fingers back to the correct position. "Come on, it's not that hard."

Zoro deleted all of Sanji's work, a mess of barely coherent letters.

'Sanji is a moron.' Zoro typed onto the computer slowly, forcing Sanji to press each key.

"Hey!" Sanji muttered as he shouldered Zoro.

'Zoro types better than Sanji.'

"Pushing it, moss head." He quipped.

"Then show me you can do better." Zoro challenged, removing his hands away to wrap his arms around the lean man's waist, rubbing small patterns just above the blond's hip bone.

'Zoro will be sleeping alone tonight if he doesn't watch it.'

Sanji went back to the tab he had previously opened and resumed typing the email, but this time he followed Zoro's instructions and typed in the correct position at a snail's pace. The cook would grumble a curse in French every now and then but he didn't revert back to his chicken pecking.

"Thank god you're a chef and not a novelist." Zoro teased as he watched words slowly form on the screen, nuzzling his nose against Sanji's neck. Sanji elbowed him in the gut and continued typing.

"This fucking sucks…" The blond muttered.

"This is basic stuff, dart brow. How did you even make it through college?" Zoro shifted his position so that his legs were now extended, the other man resting in the 'V' shape his legs naturally made, leaning back into the massive pillows on their bed.

Sanji leaned back with Zoro, adjusting the screen slightly before carrying on with his email, the sounds of Sanji's harsh and furious taping filled the room. After what felt like forever, the blond slammed his computer shut and tossed it to the other side of the bed. He looked up at the moss head with a glare.

"That was bullshit." He rolled onto his stomach, placing his head just at the end of Zoro's rib cage.

"Yeah but you had to do it." Sanji rolled his eyes before giving Zoro sly grin.

"Do I get a reward?" He brought a hand up and played with the gold earrings hanging from Zoro's ear, the other he used to push himself up closer to Zoro's face. Zoro returned the smirk, placing a hand on Sanji's lower back and trailing it up the blond's spine.

"Alright, curly, show me what else those fingers of yours can do."