chapter 6

Sanji wasn't stupid; he knew exactly what Zeff was doing. Stirring the sauce was more of a formality to get him to stand in front of Zoro. He knew the old man could perfectly handle multitasking in the kitchen, and he also knew for certain that Zeff would prefer that Sanji prepare the dessert.

Yet here he was, stirring the brown and heavenly smelling sauce and trying not to get an aneurism from the whirlpool of emotions he had been sucked in the last ten minutes.

Zeff had dropped a bomb on him. He'd just been shown a part of himself he didn't realize he had and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to deal with the revelation. How long had he been tormenting his old man like this?

Sanji had seen the hurt in his old man's eyes, there had been more emotion in Zeff's voice than he'd ever heard before.

'You're worth it'

Was he really? Wasn't his old man just biased? Well, he was above average looking he supposed, his eyebrows were bizarre though and he was rather thin. He was a good cook, and that was definitely a plus for most people. Then again, he worked as a cashier at a store, had a shit apartment and just enough money to live comfortably and add a little something to his savings every month.

"Oi! Cook!"

Suddenly Zoro's fingers reached into his line of view, snapping loudly over the sauce pot Sanji was staring intently into. Jolted instantly out of his thoughts, Sanji glanced up at the man who had two days ago just been his annoying, yet good looking, boss.

"I'm not a cook." Sanji frowned at the man, trying to ignore how the corner of Zoro's lips was curling upwards in amusement. Brow quirked in disbelief, the green haired man withdrew his hand and poured himself another glass of the booze Zeff had handed over.

"Yes you are." The infuriating man argued, taking a sip of his alcohol. Sanji stirred angrily in the pot, narrowing his eyes on Zoro who didn't budge.

"I'm not a cook or a chef or anything! I don't have my certificate remember?" Sanji hissed, feeling a bit insulted that Zoro would use something so personal to tease him with. He may have told him that when he was a little buzzed, but he had thought Zoro was above using these things against him.

"I don't give a shit if you have a certificate or not. You studied all those years, right? You love cooking, right?" Zoro's smirk disappeared around the edge of his glass, brow furrowed. "That makes you a cook."

"I'm not legally ALLOWED to title myself as one moss-brain. I don't have the papers." Sanji sighed in exasperation, rubbing at his temples as he stared into the bubbling pot. He could hear Zeff snort rudely behind him, but he wasn't sure he could face the old fart right now.

"Papers aren't going to change what you know, though. You'll still know the exact same things you do already." Zoro pointed out with a scowl, finishing his glass and placing it on the table. "You'll just have papers to prove it."

"That's not how it works." Sanji argued in annoyance, whisking a little harder with a trained motion of his wrist. Zoro's eyes fell on his hand and watched it for a moment, his face softening as he seemed to be deeply contemplating something. Sanji rolled his eyes. Zoro wasn't winning THIS argument no matter what bizarre shit he came up with.

"Doesn't your hand get tired?" Zoro's question came so out of the blue Sanji instantly stopped moving, blinking as he looked from the man's serious and curious expression down to his own hand. The change of subject was so abrupt and random that Sanji didn't manage to answer before Zeff cleared his throat from the back of the kitchen.

"Chefs have plenty of stamina in their hands and wrists. They need to be able to keep a nice even pace on their work after all." Sanji's brow furrowed as he looked over to his old man, not sure why he had such a bad feeling about this sentence. Why was Zeff looking at him like that? And why was Zoro suddenly so quiet-

There was another of those obscene quirks of Zeff's eyebrows and the innuendo came flooding over Sanji like a tidal wave of embarrassment.

"SHITTY OLD FART!" Sanji growled, attempting to kick his old man in the head for embarrassing him like that. He'd been doing nothing else all day! It wasn't fair! Zeff easily dodged, barely moving his head as he turned back to the dessert he was making.

"Eehh? Sounds nice." Zoro's tone was borderline lecherous. "Are you like one of those TV cooks who can hand whip cream in a minute?"

Sanji's blood was racing back and forth from his groin and face. He was pretty sure Zoro was making a sexual joke, but if it was a double entendre about the nature of the "cream" or the time it took to produce it, he wasn´t sure. Just the words "whipped cream" coming from Zoro's mouth was sexual enough to make Sanji glad his lower half was hidden from view behind a counter.

It really didn't matter what kind of 'cream' Zoro was referring to, Sanji would still like some of it spread all over him. Sanji frowned, rolling his eyes at the joke and trying to coax some of his blood back up to his brain. He couldn't talk dirty like that with his old man standing RIGHT behind him damn it!

"How long it takes depends on the cream really." Sanji said awkwardly, not sure if he wanted to encourage this metaphor. He wasn't trying to, but everything he said sounded so damn sexual to him now that his mind was in the gutter. "-and the method."

Zoro simply looked amused, pouring himself the rest of the bottle and placing it to the side. Did this count as flirting? Yes, this was definitely flirting. Sanji watched Zoro roll the amber liquid around in the glass, his heart finally regaining some blood to beat as Sanji calmed himself down. Flirting was okay. They were both adults.

"So that huge bag you sometimes bring to work has swords in it?" Sanji changed the subject in hopes of getting something resembling normalcy to the conversation and maybe even getting to know Zoro a little better. "Is that even legal? Weapons in a workplace?"

"It's not." Zoro hummed as he took a sip of the glass. "But there's no one to call me out on it. I'm not gonna use then against anyone, it would just waste a lot of extra workout time to go back home to get them and then all the way to the Dojo."

"So you ARE a criminal?" Zeff said loudly from the back of the kitchen, and Zoro made an adorably awkward grimace that made Sanji's throat constrict. No. Zoro was not allowed to make those expressions AND all the sexy ones.

"Not really old man. I haven't been caught breaking any rules yet." Zoro explained, earning himself an amused snort from the other side of the kitchen. "Are you going to kick me out now?"

"We feed everyone in this restaurant. Even criminals." Zeff wasn't looking at Zoro, and the green haired man glanced from the veteran chef to Sanji; who shrugged awkwardly. "I might spit in your food for good measure though." Zeff's tone was playful and Zoro's head tilted suspiciously as if he was trying to figure out if the old man was being serious or not.

"If you hadn't noticed, the old fart is senile-" Sanji was interrupted by a spatula to the head, the metal smacking loudly on the top of his head.

"RESPECT YOUR ELDERS." Zeff groused and poked Sanji's back hard enough for the blond to arch his back away from the finger comically. Zoro laughed into his glass, almost spilling the drink over himself. Sanji was starting to think Zeff was actively TRYING to embarrass him.

After Zoro wiped some alcohol from his chin with a swipe of his thumb and a lick that HAD to be against some sort of public decency law, Sanji managed to get the subject back on track.

"So are you a competitive swordsman then?" Sanji asked casually, wondering if he could find footage of Zoro in action somewhere online. He'd really like to see that. "Any titles yet?"

"Well-" Zoro said casually, putting down his glass, smug grin on his lips. He leant back in his seat confidently, his one eye sparkling with teasing mirth. "I won the nationals this year." Sanji waited for the punch line, but Zoro just gave him an egotistical eyebrow arch and didn't seem to be joking.

"National Champ- are you SERIOUS?" Sanji blinked, looking Zoro over and furrowing his brow. How could he not know this? Did no one at work know this? "Where the hell do you find the time to train for something like that?"

"I've been training since I was a kid. I started competing when I was around your age." Zoro sat up and smiled subtly, gesturing to Sanji with a wave of his hand as he spoke. "This is my second time winning the nationals."

It was strange to see Zoro so outspoken, talking about something that he was clearly passionate about, his face looked younger and his tone was more casual, his voice seeming to change with each word and the left corners of his mouth always seeking up slightly in an uneven smile as he spoke.

"So did you get that giant scar on your chest in a match?" Sanji was curious; half hoping Zoro would take off his sweater again. He'd barely been able to enjoy the view of Zoro's firm pecks and almost fake looking washboard abs because of the large white scar cutting its way across Zoro's torso.

"Yeah." Zoro took his drink and finished it, tucking the empty bottle into a corner. "It was during my first nationals. Mihawk was there so I challenged him because I had the opportunity."

Both Zeff and Sanji turned to look at the man, looking comically similar as both blonds stared at the green haired man.

"Mihawk?" Zeff said and his brow furrowed, mustache twitching. "I know of him; he's the world's greatest swordsman."

"He's my goal. I'm not going to rest until I beat him." Zoro stated confidently, determination settling in his face. Sanji bit the inside of his cheek, determined looked really, really good on Zoro. Zeff huffed something and turned back to the dessert, putting it in the oven as he pulled out the turkey.

"Make yourself useful and bring the cutlery to the table over there." Zeff gestured to three sets of plates and cutlery on the counter next to Zoro, holding the turkey tray. The man spent a whole minute staring at the turkey in Zeff's hands before doing as he was told.

The moment Zoro was relatively out of earshot, Zeff joined Sanji with the bowl needed for the sauce.

"Sanji. I'm being very serious right now so you better pay some shitty attention." Zeff said in a solemn tone, pushing the saucer into Sanji's hands. "I approve of him."

"Oi, shitty geezer-"

"I'm being serious eggplant." Zeff glanced up, and Sanji watched Zoro set the table the wrong way. "-it would be a waste, and I'm not just talking about the ass anymore. He's going places in life; just like you."

"Oi, Zeff... I told you-"

"Listen to me for once in your miserable, stubborn, eggplant life." Zeff's mustache stood out horizontally from his face, making his expression seem even more intense. "I know you want to stay here and help your old man out forever, but you're meant for something greater."

Sanji grimaced; he didn't want to have this discussion right now. Not over the holidays, and definitely not with Zoro in the building. Both he and Zeff had explosive tempers, and arguing about Sanji's place in life and what he should and should not do always ended in a shouting match from opposite sides of the building.

"But-"

"This restaurant is MY dream, not yours you shitty brat." Zeff frowned, putting a bowl of salad into Sanji hands forcefully and pushing him out of the kitchen, in the direction of Zoro. "Go find your own damn dream."

The green haired man had finished arranging all the tableware incorrectly and was looking pleased with himself. Sanji sighed as he walked across the hall, holding up the bowl of salad as he got closer. Sanji figured that Zoro might still be feeling talkative, so he risked getting to know him a little better.

Or, worst case scenario, he'd maybe have some blackmail material.

"So if you're a National champion and shit like that," Sanji began, placing the salad on the table and lighting himself a cigarette. Zoro turned to look at him, seeming content with carrying on the line of conversation. "Then why are you still working at that store? Shouldn't you..." be a model with a body like that? "... have some sponsors or something?"

"I... have been offered that." Zoro seemed rather uncomfortable at that, brow furrowing slightly as he scratched his jaw absentmindedly, rattling the three earrings. "But I turned them down."

"What? Why?" Sanji huffed, confused why anyone would turn down a deal like that, especially if they worked in retail. Anything was better than retail, right? As long as it wasn't fast food. There was nothing in the world that could get Sanji to work in the fast food industry. He turned to walk to the kitchen to get more REAL food, nodding Zoro along "Did they ask you to do something weird?"

"No real reason, it's just a pain. I'm not much for being photographed and do advertisements. I'm a swordsman." Zoro followed Sanji to the kitchen, where Zeff was placing various bowls on the counter for them to ferry over.

"You're an idiot." Sanji huffed, blowing smoke over his shoulder as he picked up two bowls and left the big turkey tray for Zoro to carry. "What kind of moss-head wouldn't want to get paid for doing what he loved?"

"It's my choice curly brow. Mind your own business." Zoro held the food up cautiously, staring at it for a second before he followed Sanji to the table. Zeff was following them with the drinks, glasses clattering in his hand.

Zoro placed the food on the center of the table, admiring it for a moment. "This looks like something from a movie."

"Movie food is usually plastic, this is real and it's getting cold brat. Take a seat and eat already." Zeff snorted at the compliment, grabbing Zoro's shoulder and pushing him into a seat. Sanji took his own seat across from Zoro and looked up at his old man, who was looking all too pleased with himself.

"Same to you geezer." Sanji frowned, and Zeff took his seat at the end of the table, both blondes watching as Zoro started piling food on his plate with the self-restraint of a five year old at a cake buffet.

Thanks to MistressHasty for being the beta for this story!