Hooked

Yeah.........I figure I've been neglecting my account here :/ like an unfit teenage mother of particularly bitchy triplets, I'll slam this one to you with all the domestic love I can ;)

One more after this and the horror shall be OOOOOOOOVAAAAAAAAAR!!!!!!!!!!! awwz...

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"God...fuck..." Sanji panted, clawing at the windshield of Ace's car, dragging his fingers over the glass, Zoro pushing in behind him as he bent further over the hood.

Zoro hated himself. More than he hated this whole...thing. He'd broken a promise to himself. He was still paying Sanji for whatever the hell he made him feel and do and think. Even if the price had gone down to just a hundred since the first time, though Zoro didn't know if he hated that even more or not.

He grunted, teeth still digging into Sanji's shoulder, one hand on the thin metal as the other stroked Sanji further towards completion, and his feet parted on the concrete ground of the deserted car park, hidden in shadows from possible spectators or police. They'd been caught once before but had managed to pull it off by playing an extremely experimental couple. Zoro didn't want to through that ever again. Even if Sanji had found it particularly hilarious.

"I'm...I..." Sanji gasped, fogging the window with his breath, spread out over the hood now, eyes clamped shut tightly, cheek rubbing the glass with every push, pull, thrust, drag Zoro forced into him. He groaned as he felt Sanji's whole body freeze, a soft keen escaping the blond's throat as he came, rocking slightly back against Zoro, and forward into his hand. One, two, three more thrusts and Zoro was there with him, growling around the broken skin of Sanji's shoulder, tongue flicking at thin trails of blood and his own saliva and the teeth marks indented.

He pushed off a few minutes later, breathing becoming steadier, Sanji standing fully and stretching with a slight squeak of relief before bending to pull his pants up. Zoro fixed his belt absently as Sanji lit a cigarette, leaning back against the hood with a sigh.

"You okay?" he asked lightly, as he'd asked every time Zoro had visited the past three times. Three fucking times in two weeks... It would have been four but apparently Sanji didn't work Tuesdays, and Zoro hadn't cared enough to go on Wednesday instead. He ran a hand over his face to clear his thoughts, digging around in his back pocket for Ace's keys. He'd been sent out for beer an hour ago...Paulie was going to kill him...Johnny and Yosaku would have to make do for an excuse again. He'd been 'bumping into them and getting dragged off for a drink' quite a lot lately. Three times in two fucking weeks...

"Yeah..." he replied after a while, turning and pulling the door open, then pausing. "Want a ride back?" he offered. It was only a few blocks away but still... No, he didn't feel protective, or concerned, or worried, or any of that shit, thank you very fucking much. Sanji smiled and nodded, throwing the cigarette to the floor and stepping on it as he walked over to the passenger side.

Zoro settled back, closing the door before gripping the wheel and staring straight forward, keys still in his hand. Sanji closed his own door before checking his money, then looking over at him when the car stayed perfectly motionless.

"You kinda need to start the car to drive it, Marimo. Or are you pretending it's a racecar in your mind?" he quipped with a smirk. Zoro glared over at him before dropping his hands to his lap and looking down at them.

"Why do you do this?" he found himself asking, not even expecting it himself. Sanji even less so, apparently, going by the widening of his eyes and the way his mouth moved around a silent answer. Zoro only waiting, still wondering why he wanted to know, but knowing he had to find out because now it was out in the open, he'd be dying to find out the reason if Sanji didn't let it slip now.

"I...I can't do anything else," was Sanji's reply, turning to stare out to the blank lot before them, illuminated in small areas by dirty orange street light. Zoro hated that answer, and was begining to hate hate itself, from the way he seemed to hate practically everything right now. He looked up, turning sharply, glaring darkly, and growling.

"That's bullshit. You can do shit loads more than fuck," he snapped, suddenly angry at the answer because it wasn't a real answer, it was an excuse. Sanji looked back at him then, a matching glare narrowing his eyes and creasing his brow.

"You don't fucking know shit about me. Don't talk shit you don't understand anything about," he snarled, lip curling ever so slightly in answer to Zoro's set jaw. He snorted humourlessly, leaning forward a little over the gear stick, grabbing Sanji's low collar and dragging him over.

"I know you're not as retarded as you pretend you are. I know you can do more than just spread your fucking legs and take it," he grumbled, pressing his forehead to Sanji's forcing their eyes to meet again, anger, fustration, despair, pleading flashing between them like electricity, teeth grinding harshly as Sanji only glared back and brough a hand up to wrap around his wrist, trying to pry himself away.

"You're right. I'm pretty good at sucking cock, too," he spat, shoving Zoro off him and immediately kicking the door open, stepping out and starting to walk away quickly. And chasing him, pulling him back, kissing him senseless, whisking him off to their house where they lived together, did laundry on Sundays, took turns to wash and dry the dishes, made half-assed love on the couch at three in the morning in the dim T.V. light, bickered over stupid things like the price of milk, they all crossed Zoro's mind all at once, blinding him momentarily, long enough for Sanji to get away into the night where he thought he belonged. And all he could do was let out a short, loud yell at himself and let his head fall to the car horn centred on the wheel, causing the most disgusting noise to ring throughout the barren area, which sounded exactly like Zoro felt.

*

"What the hell's wrong with you?" Ace asked casually as Zoro entered the kitchen the next morning. He stopped in the doorway for a moment in surprise, then made haste to the toaster for breakfast. Ace twitched the newspaper Zoro knew he was only pretending to read, and didn't look up as Zoro ignored him. "Don't think I don't know somethings up," he continued, idly reaching for his coffee on the small but durable kitchen table beside him. Zoro only growled inwardly and reached for the butter.

"Yeah, 'cause you're so perceptive," he grumbled back, frowning at the burnt bread as he slathered butter over the slices to make them taste at least a little better. Everyone knew he couldn't cook for shit, and Ace often remarked that he could burn water. Dick.

"Don't need to be. No one comes home at two in the morning, beerless, and goes to bed without a word and a shitty expression when they're fine," Ace replied, spreading the paper down in front of him as he looked up. Zoro paused a second, back still to the rest of the room as he took a bite of his culinary disaster, then turned around to leave, massacred toast in hand.

"I'm not no one," he said simply, walking out the door with a frown and half a charred, buttered crust hanging from his mouth.

"No, you're a fucking idiot," Ace called after him, though his voice was drowned out slightly by the vibrating slam of Zoro's bedroom door. He flopped back onto his bed, half-minding the toast in hand, probably spreading crumbs everywhere on the sheets which were in need of a wash. He sighed around his mouthful of frazzled breakfast. Sanji was clean, neat and tidy and house-proud, and always picked up Zoro's socks from under the bed, nagged him to hang up his clean stuff, ironed his sheets. He could cook, too, and made the best fucking mac and cheese Zoro would probably ever taste. In his head.

Sanji's words rang through Zoro's ears, his spiteful stare playing continuously behind Zoro's eyes, his rejecting shove tingling Zoro's skin.

The toast met an untimely death as it was forcefully thrown at the wall, and Zoro sprang to his feet, pushing his boxers down off his hips as he walked over to the small en suite his bedroom harboured, making a beeline for the shower and turning it on as he toed the toilet seat up on the other side with practiced ease. After relieving himself he stepped under the steaming spray, shivering at the sudden heat on his skin, and how Sanji ran his hands over his arms, light and slick with shampoo lather. Blond hair injected with thich white foam, sinking down the back of his neck, falling down his back, spreading across wet skin as Zoro's hands came round to rest there, stroking softly as Sanji leaned in to press a water-light kiss to the corner of Zoro's mouth.

Dark eyes snapped open, glaring at the blank tile wall and his stretched out arms, holding nothing but empty, steamy air to him, and the water trickling over his face in the least refreshing way imaginable. He growled at himself, his mind in particular, and snatched the bottle of shampoo from the shelf. His thoughts were running away with themselves more often now, and further into the strange reality he'd created. He cursed aloud, wiping suds from his eyes and tugging the shower head down further to rinse his hair clean.

Sanji was a whore. All he knew was how to fuck. And suck cock. And please. And beg. And money. He wouldn't clean up after Zoro. He wouldn't make the best fucking mac and cheese. He wouldn't love Zoro because he didn't know what love fucking meant. Not that Zoro really knew that well either, but he had a pretty good idea that this was it. Fantasizing to the point of near obsession, trying desperately not to just scream out loud at how much it hurt to be this confused. Surely this was love. Zoro didn't know what else to call it. He was in love with a whore. Shit.

He grumbled incoherantly, scrubbing himself down quickly with the soap, washing it off even faster, cursing himself, and Sanji, and everything inbetween them, cursing his towel as he hastily rubbed it over himself, probably missing large areas of still wet skin, only toustling his hair with one hand as the other dug around in a drawer he might have some clean underwear in, cursing the room as he dashed about frantically, tripping over the ends of his jeans as he tried to zip them up while also looking for a clean shirt somewhere in his mess of a room.

Grabbing his jacket he crashed through the door to the hallway, bypassing a slepy Paulie with a toothbrush in his mouth and a towel over his shoulder. He shouted something after him but Zoro didn't listen, stopping at the door to slip his shoes on.

"Ace, can I borrow-"

"On the coffee table," Ace interrupted from the kitchen, not looking out. Zoro ran into the living room, jumping over the back of the couch to slam onto the floor, then reaching up for Ace's car keys then scrambling back to the door and practically flying out down the stairs, swearing colourfully as he ran out into the street and over to the car, stabbing the key in the lock and twisting it every way before the door clicked and he wrenched it open, jabbing the key in the ignition before he'd even sat inside properly.

And, really, he didn't even know why he was in such a rush. Why it was so important that he get to that fucking brothel in the middle of the day, when Sanji probably wouldn't even be there. But he had to get there, right now, whether he knew why or not.

*

He only got lost once, and that was only because a truck in front of him was taking too long to park, so he'd turned down a different road when lead...somewhere. He didn't know, but he was here now, and he slammed the door behind him as he stalked over, going up to the first girl he saw. She primped herself, fixing her glasses formally as he approached, crossing her stocking-clad legs over as she watched him sharply.

"What can I do for you?" she asked, Zoro noting faintly that she sounded more like she was making an appointment for him than offering sex. He ignored that, however, and stopped right before her.

"D'you know Sanji?" he asked, watching her fix her glasses again as she appraised him shortly.

"Yes, why?" she asked, tone clipped, straight to the point, and Zoro absently thought that she was probably good at what she did. If a little too controlling. And perhaps a little prudish.

"Is he here?" he asked uselessly, different colour attracting his eyes as two girls...twins...holy shit...twins moved over to him, with strange hair and a stranger sense of humour as they giggled at him.

"He works nights, honey. You won't find him here just now," the one in the yellow said, leaning on her sister's shoulder. The pink one smirked, folding her arms.

"You're the one who's been visiting him," she informed Zoro pointlessly. He frowned.

"Can you tell me where I can find him?" he asked, trying ruthlessly to keep his voice even, wishing the frustration away. They giggled again and he turned back to the blonde woman. She only shrugged, fixing her glasses again.

"You'll need to ask Nami-sama," she said airily, gesturing to a small, run-down looking building in the corner of the alley, which seemed wider in daylight. He blinked, then nodded to them each in turn, causing the twins to giggle again, and the blonde fix her glasses, and as he made his way over to the grimy door, he absently wondered if you had to be absolutely insane to work in the sex industry. Probably, he reasoned, as he knocked the door three times, and waited. There was a small amount of movement inside from what he could hear, and muffled voices mumbling to each other, then the door was pulled open to reveal a tall, mean looking tattooed man, who glared at Zoro as if he wished for nothing more than to snap his neck.

"What," he grunted, sounding vaguely foreign in accent, and Zoro straightened up more subconciously and looked him in the eye.

"I want to speak to Nami," he replied, eyes narrowing a little when the...warrior, was what Zoro would call him, looked him up and down, then stepped back to let him through the door. He looked around the well lit room, decorated rather nicely despite the shitty look it had on the exterior.

"What is it, Wiper?" a female voice called from behind a desk on the other side, feet up on the surface as she counted some money with a bored expression. Zoro vaguely recognised her, but couldn't place her immediately, and walked over, coming to a stop at the desk. She glanced up, sharp brown eyes looking him over, scanning him as he simply stood watching her. "Yes?" she asked, tone would-be-sweet if it weren't for the suspiciousness lacing her voice.

"Where can I find Sanji?" he asked shortly, not looking to beat around the bush or anything like it. She put her money down on the table and moved her feet to the floor to lean over the desk as she stared at him with a slightly knitted brow.

"That's classified information," she said slowly, still appraising him and his possible worth. He could tell she proably had a knack for that kind of thing. "Why do you need to know?"she asked finally, sitting back a little to await his explination. His eyes narrowed a little further.

"I need to talk to him. That's all," he said plainly. She chewed the inside of her lip as she stared at him a little longer, thinking it over as a tall, dark woman walked over, also familiar but even vaguer than Nami, and placed a cup of coffee on the desk.

"Forgive me, Nami-san, but I think this is the man who has been visiting our dear Sanji-san recently," she said serenely, Zoro tensing slightly and Nami shooting a glance up at her, then to him, eyes widened slightly.

"Really?" she asked loudly, standing and walking around to stand in front of him. He blinked down at her as she leaned back against the edge of the desk, smirking as she folded her arms across her generous chest. "You've lost me a lot of business," she informed him, smirk becoming more prominent as he gaped at her, stepping back slightly.

"What...what the fuck are you talking about?" he asked, voice raised and suspicious as he stared at her increduously. The tall one giggled slightly behind her hand as Nami only frowned, head tilted slightly forwards as she stared up at him through her clementine bangs.

"You. He's not been working a much. He took two days off last week. D'you know how much money he brings in?" she questioned. He stared at her, eyes wide, for a moment, before coming back to himself, eyes falling back to half slitted as he regarded her darkly.

"I don't give a shit about that. Tell me where to find him," he demanded. He heard Wiper or whatever the hell he was called shift around behind him, and saw Nami hold up a hand to stop any unnessecary movements.

"I'll tell you if you get him to come back to work. And to do his job properly; I know he's not been charging you as much. So either get him back to normal or tell him he can leave," she said, expression cold but something flickering in her eyes, making Zoro want to lean closer to inspect further, though telling himself to ignore it and folded his arms.

"Where, then?" he asked, heart speeding a little as she nodded and leaned over to snatch a pen and notpad from behind her, jotting down a few quick lines in fine black ink.

"It's not too far from here. Will you find it okay?" she asked, not sounding like she cared at all as she handed the note over, sharp eyes still flashing around him. He nodded, taking it and shoving it in his pocket then stepping backwards towards the door.

"Yeah...uh, thanks..." he mumbled, not understanding the situation in the slightest as he stormed out the door, Wiper slamming it behind him. He walked straight past the blonde who seemed to have found a customer, looking less than pleased with his clumsy air and strangely strapped up face, though the twins called out as they rushed over to meet him at the car.

"Did she tell you?" Pink asked in a high voice.

"Did she say where he is?" Yellow added, both acting as if they were watching a fucking soap opera. He sighed, yanking the door open as he nodded.

"Yeah," was all he offered before settling into the seat and closing the door after he revved the engine and began to pull out.

When he'd made it to the main road he tugged out the small piece of paper and glanced down at the address and directions, flashing his eyes back to the road every few seconds as he read slowly. Left. Right. Straight on, then left, and left again, and what...? Where the hell was this place?! He growled at the paper, looking back at the road as he threw it to the passenger seat. He knew the address area well enough. He'd find it himself.

Twenty minutes later found him parked in a seedy looking street, scanning the directions again and trying to remember where he'd just come from.

Ten minutes after that found him out of the car, staring up at an apartment block, then back at the paper, then back at the street sign. Well, he'd found it...stupid directions...smudging like that...twenty-seven...where was twenty-seven...?

He raced up the porch stairs leading from the side walk, shoving the useless note back in his pocket, walking in the already open door and looking around the grubby and sparsely decorated ground floor for apartment B. He knocked three times. Then a fourth, and there would have been a fifth had the door not opened just then, a tired but amused looking Sanji standing there, though his face fell when he saw his visitor.

"How the hell did you find this place?" he demanded immediately, blue eyes flashing as he stared, keeping the door almost fully closed apart from a slight crack where he stared through, glaring at Zoro as harshly as he could with his obviously worn out expression. Zoro only glared back, meeting his eyes easily and, for once, his mind clear.

"Nami told me 'cause I asked her. I wanna talk to you," he said lowly, placing a hand on the door to prevent it from being slammed in his face. Sanji growled just as deeply, watching him with thin eyes, hands braced on the door and frame, for a moment, before looking down at the floor, hiding behind his hair.

"Did Nami-san send you?" he asked quietly, not releasing his hold on the door and addressing the linoleum slats of his floor just inside. Zoro frowned a little deeper and thought for a moment.

"Will you let me in if I say yes?" he asked carefully, watching for Sanji's reaction, though he blinked after a moment at the sound of a new voice behind the door.

"Sanji-san, is everything okay?" a man spoke, deep, gruff, something oddly unsightly about his voice, not sounding all that pleasent in his ears. Sanji looked up again, behind the door to the still hidden person, and Zoro saw him grin and nod.

"Yeah, everything's fine! Go finish your breakfast," he said cheerily, staring away for a moment longer before looking back to Zoro with a disgruntled glare and stepped back, throwing the door open to let him in. "Shoes off," he ordered, folding his arms and walking away to, presumably, the kitchen. Zoro sighed and stared around at the small hallway for a moment before toeing his shoes off and kicking them to the side beneath a coat rack hanging on the wall. This was a Sanji house. Clean enough to be acceptable, though not overly so. Some pictures, photohgraphs and paintings, hung along the wall, and a plain, delicate rug ran along the faux-wood floor, matching the simple, clean decor. If he lived here, there'd be dirty clothes and take out cartons all over the place, and Sanji would smack him over the head before cleaning it all up, and if Zoro refused to help he'd get none for a week. He inwardly cursed himself yet again and moved off in the general direction Sanji had gone in, coming to a stop in the kitchen doorway, glancing around before noticing Sanji leaning against the cooker smoking as he watched a stranger, the owner of the voice Zoro didn't like, eating at the counter island.

"Hey..." he said to make himself apparent, Sanji glancing up, looking rather unamused at his sudden arrival. Though Zoro didn't notice because he was looking back at the stranger at the island, both giving the other lost looks of minimal confusion, peppered with a slight frown.

"This is Zoro," Sanji introduced half-heartedly, paying more attention to his cigarette as he flicked spent ash in a small white bowl, not watching Zoro walk over and extend a hand, still frowning at the strange man. He looked dirty. Too dirty to be in Sanji's clean house. Too dirty to be Sanji's friend, or aquaintance or...worse...more. He made Zoro think of the flaw in a Persian rug, spoiling something that could have been perfect if it was allowed to be. The man took his hand, flashing a small grin as he shook it.

"Hi, I'm Gin," he said, taking his hand back to eat more of his eggs and bacon. Zoro nodded silently, watching him for a moment before turning to look at their host, who was still pointedly not looking back.

"Sanji," he said simply, making Gin look up but not whom he'd intended. Sanji nodded, exhaled, extinguished, and walked off, past him, out to the hall again, Zoro following because he didn't know what else to do. He led him into another room, which turned out to be the bedroom. Again, small, but not cramped. Cosy, fresh...nice. Zoro closed the door behind him, not having enough time to look around properly before he was facing Sanji again, and those blue eyes that were so guarded were staring right back at him, drawing him in as much as Sanji was pushing him away. "I...uh..."

"Are you here to appologise or for something else. 'Cause I'm not working right now. You'll need to wait until tonight," he said with a shrug, interrupting Zoro hesitation easily, arms folded loosely, eyes blank, weight on one hip. Zoro absently noted that he was wearing sweats and a simple white long sleeved shirt; drastically different to what Zoro was used to seeing him in. His hair was newly washed and just starting to dry, and all Zoro really wanted to do was run his fingers through it, stealing the last of the moisture from the ends, letting the runt driplets fall onto his skin and clothes.

"Appologise. I didn't mean what I said last night," he said automatically, lying through his teeth and making it damn obvious. Sanji's glare deepened and he stepped forward slightly.

"Don't take the piss. Why did Nami-san send you here?" he tried, emotionless eyes flaming only just before dying again, burning into Zoro's lifelessly. He blinked softly, wondering for the hundredth time that hour why the hell he was in love with this man. He shrugged, tearing his eyes away, afraid of giving himself away too soon or too predictably.

"She wants me to tell you to do your job properly or you're out," he said, looking around the room again, noticing some folded linens on a chair by a cotton-curtained window, a few framed photographs on a table by the reasonably sized bed, a few books sitting on top of the small dresser, toiletries and knick-knacks dotted around. He heard Sanji snort a little and looked back at him carefully. There was a faint colour to his cheeks, faint but noticable against the cream skin, and his lips parted, letting out a short, silent gasp. "What?" he asked, frowning as Sanji shook his head and walked over to sit on the end of the bed, staring blankly at the floor.

"Do my job properly...shit..." he muttered to himself, bringing a hand up to run through his hair, taking the last of the water there for himself. Zoro paused, wanting to say something but not sure why or what. "Or I'm out..." he grumbled even quieter, bringing both hands up to run over hs face.

"And I do want to say sorry. I meant what I said but...I said it wrong..." he said, trailing off towards the end, unsure of what he really meant, or of how Sanji would react. He glanced up from the rugged floor to see Sanji smile a little and look up to meet his gaze.

"How would you say it now?" he asked quietly, shifting up the bed slightly to sit on it properly, and making room for Zoro to join him. Zoro went, then paused, then sat down carefully, watching Sanji for any signs of rejection or a joke. But, no, he just sat and waited for Zoro to speak, or move, or do pretty much anything.

"I...how would...I dunno, that you're too good for this? Before, when you said I let you feel. You can feel as much as you want to if you just stop. I mean...not stop...if you...leave...come..." with me. Zoro understood less than Sanji, most likely. He was looking behind them at the pillows at the head of the bed, one slept on, the other clean and crisp and virgin. He could feel Sanji watching him but refused to look. He'd seen quite a few expressions on Sanji's face in the past two weeks, since he'd started to open up more, allowing Zoro to see what he was feeling. But confusion hadn't been one of them, and for some reason Zoro never wanted to see Sanji confused. Zoro felt so confused right now, and it hurt so much. To have his mind to distracted, and chaotic with so many clashing thoughts and hopes and dreads and the strangest dreams he'd ever had. And still Sanji watched him, soft eyes scarring a hole in Zoro's head, and Zoro wanted to look more than anything, but didn't at the same time.

"That's better..." Sanji all but whispered after a while, finally looking away just as Zoro braved a glance and saw that he was...smiling. Not happy by any means, not cheerful or even glad. Just smiling. As if he'd figured out a puzzle and was proud of it in a small, unimportant way. Gentle, subtle, but there. He sat up, drawing Sanji's attention again, catching a momentarily uncautious stare, and reaching a hand out to lay it on the bed between them.

"Thanks...for, y'know...everything," he said eventually, uncertain of what he'd meant to say, and his breathing hitched quietly when Sanji smiled again; wider, prominent, and laid his hand on top of Zoro's.

"You too," he replied with a small nod, simply looking at him for a moment before sitting up a little more. "You want some breakfast?" he asked, an eyebrow raised, eyes brighter when Zoro blinked.

"Uh, yeah, sure," he said, surprised at the question, though it was probably the most srtaight forward thing to be asked of him since he'd met Sanji. The blond nodded and stood, his hand slipping from Zoro's, leaving it oddly numb, like pins and needles, and Zoro watched him walk towards the door before standing too to follow him out.

Sanji usualy walked slowly, Zoro had noticed. Always took his time but never wasting it. His hips swayed only slightly when he wasn't looking for a client, and he seemed relaxed and natural most of the time unless he was putting his act on. Zoro's eyes focused on Sanji's back and shoulders as he led him down the small hallway to the small kitchen, bypassing the small living room and tiny bathroom. He held back a frown at the thought that this whole fucking house was probably the size of his bedroom, then blinked when he realised he was just staring at the kitchen now, and Sanji was saying something as he dropped a few plates into the sink.

"What?" he asked loudly, Sanji laughing as Gin jumped in shock. He ignored them both and took a seat at the island across from Gin, who stood then, still looking a little shaken, and wiped his mouth on a napkin.

"I, uh...I better go," he said, nodding to Zoro as he walked over to hug Sanji goodbye.

"'Kay, will you be over later?" the blond asked, returning the hug with one arm as the other stretched over to jilt a pot of on the stove slightly. Gin shook his head, starting to walk out.

"Probably not...tomorrow, though," he said with one last half-decent smile and another nod to Zoro who held a hand up in response. He waited until he heard the front door close before he spoke.

"Who is that guy?" he asked, looking over, holding back a smile at the sight of Sanji in an apron. Sanji wore an apron all the time at home, busying over meal times like a housewife, making snark comments to Zoro about eating his greens. Though perhaps not a pink apron with a panda embroydered proudly across his chest. Sanji glanced over, setting out a plate and a bowl of something or other before walking over to lay it down before him.

"Just a friend. I helped him out once and...well, he keeps my landlord off my back. For the most part anyway," he grumbled, walking away again to collect a glass. "Tea, coffee, juice?"

"Uh, coffee if that's okay...is he...a, uh...a client...?" he asked, not sure why it made his stomach twist when he said it, though Sanji only shook his head as he poured instant grains onto a mug, reaching for the kettle with the other hand.

"No, no, God no. Nothing like that," he said, smiling a little. "Why, jealous?" he asked with a smirk as he set Zoro's coffee down and took up Gin's abandoned seat across. He glared up for a moment, taking his coffee with a grunt.

"No..." he muttered, ignoring Sanji's little laugh to look down at his food. Simple bacon, eggs and fried tomatoes, looking more appealing than anything Zoro had ever seen.

"Sorry there's not much, Gin likes to eat. I can make some toast as well if you like?" Sanji offered, leaning on the counter, chin in his hands as he simply observed. Zoro shook his head, snatching up as much as he could with his fork and cramming it all in his mouth at once, not giving one shit about delicacy or appreciation of flavour. He was hungry. There was food. He would eat. Though he did note that this was probably the closest thing he could describe heaven as tasting like. Light, rich and delicious. He chewed slowly, still staring at his plate, coffee cooling beside him as Sanji watched on. "It okay?" the blond asked softly after a while, and he nodded, glancing up to see a small smile on his face.

"Yeah...you're a good cook," he said finally, having swallowed with minimal difficulty, and reached for his coffee. Sanji shrugged, leaning back a little and still, Zoro noticed, smiling.

"Yeah, I know," he said quietly, watching Zoro drink and eat and think and eat more in silence until it was over, and Zoro was full, refreshed, a little drowsy, and with a clear mind. He looked up again, eyes lidded in contentment of a good meal. His eyes flashed over Sanji's peaceful little smile a moment before he spoke.

"You're good at cooking," he said, tone firmer and with a little more finality than he'd intended, but effective to the point none the less. Sanji blinked slightly, as if coming out of a daze, and leaned forward slightly.

"What?" he asked unsurely, watching as Zoro stood and took his empty plate, bowl and cutlery to the sink, dipping them into the soapy water there already before turning back around, leaning back against the counter and folding his arms.

"You're good at it. You have a skill, or talent or whatever for it. You could...I dunno...do something with it," he said, slightly angry at himself for not wording it better, but getting his point across just the same. Sanji sat and watched him for a moment before answering.

"I don't want to..." he said slowly, eyes looking just past Zoro, at the small collection of cleaned plates right beside him at the sink. Zoro frowned, walking over again to stand right in front of him, forcing his eyes up and into his own.

"Yes you do," he said finally, staring down at him, blue fluttering with faint emotions again, worry, faint confusion, and something Zoro might have called hope flashing around quickly at him, and he hoped to God they stayed there because if Sanji decided to shut down now and kick him out he'd probably kill himself.

A pale hand reached out, in a would-be tentative kind of way if Zoro could ever describe Sanji as anything like that, and fingers curled around the edge of his sleeve, tugging him down to Sanji's level, bringing him down until he was bent over, face to face and feeling strange. Scared, apprehensive, worried, cautious, in love, confused as always. "Can I...?" Sanji asked, voice just above a whisper, touch responding when Zoro found his hand and laced their fingers, still frowning into Sanji's less-than-discreet, over-emotional stare. He nodded once, firmly, surely, confidently, because it was true. Sanji sucked in a quiet sigh, letting it out just as slow, watching Zoro as if it seemed all he could do. Zoro watched his eyes fill up even more, threading hope with dread, fear with want, caution with desire, and seeming all together too unsure about the whole thing, so Zoro leaned in quickly and kissed him. Nothing sexual, not even loving. A reassurance if it was to be called anything, and he leaned back again to watch Sanji's blue, clear eyes soften, and suddenly he looked tired again, worn out and run down and everything he probably should feel like. Both of them. He nodded, not saying a word as he stood, pressed against Zoro for a moment, fingers still locked, then walked away, tugging him back towards the bedroom.

The door was closed, Zoro's jacket was discarded, Sanji laid down on the bed, resting sleepily on his side, head indenting the already ruffled pillow. Zoro paused before sitting beside him, then resting back, taking the untouched pillow for himself, turning to face Sanji on his side, and one white cotton arm reached out to hang around his waist, drawing them both closer together, centred on the comfortable clean quilt, Zoro's arm finding Sanji's shoulders and wrapping around loosely, Sanji's face buried easily in his neck.

Just before sleep claimed him, Zoro absently realised that this was the first time they had been in a bed together, and smiled only faintly into Sanji's hair.