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If Zoro had known it would be like this, he would have just stayed in bed.
Realistically, he doesn’t need much convincing to do just that - but there are only two opportunities per year where it was socially acceptable and not weird to get straight out piss drunk. Your own birthday and New Year’s Eve.
He thought this would be his chance- just celebrate, pass out for 24 hours and wake up at the evening of New Year’s with a headache but the satisfying feeling that he just let go for once.
He has two cheat days a year. Today is one of them. Or better, today
was
one of them- until the stupid cook decided to mess it all up, as usual by just existing. It went like this:
Unsurprisingly, the whole affair was Ace’s idea. He reserved two tables at a bar and convinced them all to follow him and Marco for their New Year’s celebration. Zoro willingly went along, and so did the cook, hoping to finally land with the ladies. Nami and Vivi were there, Sabo brought his weirdly serious friends, even Robin joined for a drink before she headed home to celebrate New Year’s with Chopper and Law. There was enough alcohol to drown themselves in it, the music wasn’t too loud and Luffy and Ace were in their best moods, which meant Zoro was going to be left on his own, nursing his drink and watching the others play cards and dance. It was heaven.
Until, after what must have been the third rejection of the evening - not that Zoro counted, thank you very much- the cook picked up a bottle of beer at the bar and slid onto the chair next to him.
“This seat is taken,” Zoro informed him reflexively.
“Says who?” Sanji took a sip of his beer and grimaced. “Don’t know how you can drink this shit.”
“Then don’t. And me. I don’t want you to bother me first thing into the new year.”
But as usual, the cook didn’t listen. He stayed where he was, his eyes narrowed as he studied the sticker on the beer bottle. “I need alcohol to get my game going,” he said eventually, more to himself than to Zoro, who didn’t bother to correct him. The lack of alcohol was the last thing that kept the cook from having success with girls- but if he wanted to make a fool of himself, Zoro wouldn’t complain.
So he watched wordlessly as Sanji gulped down the bottle, sticking his tongue out before wiping his mouth with his left hand. “Disgusting.” Still, he got up and made his way into the direction of the bar to get a new one. Hoping he would get lost on the way, Zoro focused his attention somewhere else.
He was startled, but not really surprised, when the cook returned a few minutes later, a new bottle in hand. He contemplated if it was worth to break a fight over, but getting into an argument would also mean he had to stop drinking.
And that was the one thing he was here to do.
Zoro and Sanji had been a wild mixture from the start. When Zoro arrived in town, looking for a new dojo to train in, he had been at a loss for money and a place to live. He slept in the subway for a few weeks until he found the ad on a lamppost by accident.
He and Sanji had their first argument the minute he entered the flat and didn’t get out of his shoes. They got into their second when he entered the room that was for rent. The third took place when Sanji warned him not to steal his food,
and who did he think Zoro was?
Their fight lasted until Zoro tied his laces and Sanji shoved him out of the door in an attempt to get rid of him, as if Zoro needed further encouragement.
Two days later, Zoro showed up with the duffel bag full of his meager belongings and moved in.
They haven’t resolved anything since then. Zoro still refuses to take off his shoes when he enters and also blatantly steals Sanji’s food (not because he needs to, but because he knows it will make the cook angry). Sanji still uses up all the warm water and kicks him for leaving dirt on the living room carpet.
(There are also the moments when Sanji comes out of the bathroom, his hair still wet and the falling drops leave transparent spots on his white shirts, and the moments when he starts singing under his breath while he tries out a new recipe or that one time when they watched MMA together and Sanji fell asleep halfway through it after a thirteen hour shift and Zoro still doesn’t know how the match ended because he forgot to look away.)
So nothing has really changed, except now Zoro knows that Sanji gets cravings and guiltily devours cheeseburgers from Mcdonalds at three in the morning. A thing he will always tease him mercilessly about. And to this day, the cook does his best to ruin every good thing Zoro has, like today. It’s New Years Eve, and he wants to get drunk, but Sanji keeps on telling him about the hot women he spots on the bar, acting like anyone cares, and is getting drunk fast.
His face gets more flushed with every new bottle he drinks and Zoro didn’t notice when it happened, but at some point, Sanji switched from beer to longdrinks. He looks so ridiculous with a cosmopolitan in his hand that Zoro forcibly has to remind himself he did not come here to fight. But Sanji’s words get more and more slurred and Zoro finds it hard to keep up with it. At some point he just stops listening, and lets Sanji’s voice and the alcoholic buzz wash over him. He feels himself relax in his seat. This is what he came here for.
Their friends seem to have fun. Ace is doing his best to get Marco to dance with him in the narrow space between the tables, Nami is unsurprisingly winning at some card game or other. Chopper and Luffy are up to some mischief on the table next to her. It’s good to see them like this, even if he has no desire to participate.
Robin and Chopper leave eventually, followed by a more than relieved looking Law. He catches her wink as she turns around to wave goodbye to him and Sanji. Zoro doesn’t understand, but then again, he has never understood a thing the girls were up to. What he does understand is Sanji trying to get up to tell her goodbye, but failing to assess the distance of his feet to the floor and falling unceremoniously on his face.
The cook clearly had enough to drink. Sighing, Zoro takes the half empty glass from Sanji’s place at the table and downs it with two long swallows. It’s disgustingly sweet, but he can faintly taste the alcohol. Even though he is keeping it together far better than his roommate, he feels the familiar heaviness in his limbs and notices the world just getting faintly blurry at its edges. If he keeps going now, the drunkenness will lower itself like a veil between him and the world, distort his vision and the dizziness will make everything soft and comfortable. It’s what he had hoped to achieve by coming here, and he hoped to achieve it fast.
He looks down to Sanji, who has managed to sit up and looks around, seemingly confused. “Didn’t I sit up there?” he asks, hand pointing up to the barstool he occupied.
Zoro just grunts in response. He turns away before he has to watch the other man’s sad attempts to get back on his feet. The cook will probably get more annoying as the evening continues. It’s a wonder he has made no further attempts to chat up women at the bar. Another sip of beer. After the sticky longdrink it tastes almost bitter, so it’s probably time to switch drinks.
As he moves to go to the bar and get himself some sake or, if need be, whiskey, he notices the cook has given up trying to sit down again and made his way halfway across the room. Currently, he is standing next to a blonde girl, who got her arms full of drinks for her friends, which are watching her from a near table. She looks increasingly uncomfortable as Zoro draws closer, trying to get some space between herself and the cook, who doesn’t get the hint and leans further forward.
Zoro is with them faster than he intended to. Putting a hand on Sanji’s shoulder, he pulls him back so the girl has room to breathe again.
“What are you doing, shit cook?” The question is rhetorical, of course he knows exactly what is going on. But he wants to distract him, and give the woman time to get away. It’s also a good outlet for the irritation that makes his skin crawl, the second hand embarrassment mixed with something else he’d rather not think about.
“Don’t touch me, moss head.” Sanji’s response is almost automatic, but the anger on his face is real. He tries to swat Zoro’s hand away but misses and hits his own shoulder instead. It looks almost comical, but Zoro knows if he laughs now, this will end in a bar fight. And that’s the last thing he wants.
“You had enough to drink. Let’s get you some water.”
His suggestion meets deaf ears. “Nah, I want another beer to get into the flow.”
You never have flow, Zoro wants to respond, but he bites his lip. “You just fell off your chair, get something else to drink.”
“It’s not my fault the chair moved when I got up!” Hearing the words Zoro uses so much himself coming out of Sanji’s mouth seems incredibly wrong. Tired of talking, he takes the other’s arm and tries to pull him into the direction of the bathroom.
“I said don’t touch me!” Suddenly enraged, Sanji frees himself of Zoro’s grip and shakes it, as if he wanted to get rid of every last trace (and Zoro feels the corner of his mouth twitch, his frown deepening. It’s not as if he wanted the cook to like him, but nonetheless his teeth clench until he hears them crunch.
“And I said you need water so you stop harassing woman who just want to have a good time.”
“That was flirting!” The mask of anger on his face distorts Sanji’s features. “You wouldn’t even know what that means if I spelled it out for you!”
“Well, she clearly didn’t enjoy it, and if you couldn’t see that you’re even more drunk than I thought. Let-”
Before he can finish his sentence, he feels Sanji’s shoe colliding with his shin. It hurts. “You take that back!” the other yells.
Around them, it’s suddenly much more quiet than it was before. Great. This was exactly what Zoro wanted to avoid. Bringing attention on them and start another fight. He just wants a drink, why is that so hard to come by?
“I won’t. Get some water.” He makes a move to grasp the other’s arm again, but that isn’t necessary because as Sanji withdraws his foot, he loses balance again and falls backwards. Zoro catches him before he can land on the floor for the second time in ten minutes.
“Yeah, we are going home.”
He ignores the muffled protest that follows his statement, instead making use of Sanji’s momentarily defenseless state to maneuver him through people and tables. The patrons look at them worriedly, but no one bothers them much. So it’s only a matter of seconds until they reach the door and Zoro pushes Sanji outside into the cool winter air.
Cold wind bites their faces and sneaks through their clothing. They left their coats inside, but Zoro won’t risk them getting in again. They’ll probably fight if Sanji so much as looks at a woman and as funny as it would be to see him make a fool of himself, he just doesn’t feel up to it right now.
The cold seems to sober the cook up a bit and he looks around as if he can’t quite process the change of scenery.
“What are we do doing?” he asks, words barely audible because they are slurred and he is starting to shake, even though he doesn’t seem to notice.
“We’re leaving. Follow me.”
“Hell I won’t! I want to keep on talking to that beautiful lady!” Zoro had hoped he forget her as soon as he lost sight, but it seems like it was in vain.
“She didn’t want to talk to you, though, so we’re getting out of here.” Leave it to the cook to ruin a perfectly fine New Year’s Eve.
Instead of an answer, Sanji just shoves him, losing balance yet again and stumbling forward. Zoro would be a fool not to use this opportunity, so he tightens his grip on Sanji’s arm again and begins to pull him into the general direction of the train station, which thankfully is nearby.
It’s a thirty minute train ride. At least when they get home, there is booze for Zoro, so everything’s not lost yet. Even if it’s not with Luffy and the others, even if the cook will rampage drunkenly through their apartment yelling at him, there’s still something to salvage of this evening.
Sanji keeps kicking and swearing at him, bumping against his shoulder, getting tangled up in his arms. More than one time Zoro has to steady him. It’s almost comical to see the cook, who is usually so steady on his feet and can kick in a door if he wants to, Zoro knows because Sanji did, indeed, knock out his door six months in their acquaintanceship, flail around like a child. The street seems to be endless at this rate and they make their way only one step at a time.
In a few sleepless nights, when he needed to train the thoughts out of his head and worked himself into exhaustion until his legs gave out under him, Zoro imagined getting handsy with the cook to be a bit different. Especially since he contemplates if he should just carry Sanji up the stairs as their painstakingly slowly climb one step at a time, Zoro’s arm in Sanji’s back to keep him from falling. It doesn’t feel as unnatural as he thought it would, it’s almost kind of nice.
He wishes it wouldn’t be like that. It would be easier if he hates touching Sanji as much as Sanji hated being touched by him.
When they finally arrive on the platform, he sends a prayer of gratitude to anyone who is listening. The climb seems to have exhausted Sanji. He has stopped resisting and stands next to Zoro, breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon. He hasn’t stopped shivering, though and seeing that the train will arrive soon somewhat comforts Zoro. Now he just has to keep Sanji away from all females that may eventually ride that train. He sure has his work cut out for him, but he has faced hardships more difficult than this.
He keeps his eye on the display board, watching the minuted slowly tick by. There is no one else at the station, everyone has arrived at their destination for new year’s and the next wave of passengers will come only after midnight. Zoro is glad about the lack of noise, as he is still angry his night ended so abruptly.
“Why can’t I hit it off with the ladies?” Sanji’s words disrupt the silence that’s hanging over the train station and echoes back from the trails. His voice is not as energetic now, and as Zoro looks at him, he sees the cook looking at the floor, trying to frame the white lines at the edge of the plattform with his foot. “I put so much effort in it, try to read every wish from their eyes, always dress my best…”
Zoro’s mind flashes him a picture of Sanji in one of his countless Hawaiian shirts. He grits his teeth together bite back a remark. If the cook wants to be a self-pitying drunk, he’d let him. At least then he won’t fight him every step of their way home. So he just grunts, like he always does if he doesn’t know what to say or doesn’t want to bother.
Sanji seems to take it as an invitation to continue. “It’s like, I’m cursed. I’m really trying, and I’ve read all those books. How does everyone do it? I mean, even you get the girls to look at you and you’re...you.” He makes a vague gesture, which probably means he finds the whole of Zoro disgusting. Well, that’s certainly not new to him.
“I’m fucking gay, cook, I don’t care about them.”
“Yeah but…” Sanji seems to choke on his own spit and coughs. “That’s the point! You don’t even want it and you still get it, meanwhile I’m going home with an oaf like you, not with a hot blonde.”
Before Zoro can give him a piece of his mind, the train arrives and interrupts Sanji’s monologue. Relieved because of the sudden break, he takes the other’s arm again. This time, he doesn’t complain, and follows Zoro inside, head still hanging low.
Despite the empty train station, the train is still overflowing with people. There are no seats available, and groups of people crowd close together to not keep contact. Zoro looks around, which is harder than he anticipated, since people standing everywhere, even on the stairs. But behind the immense amount of heads he can see what looks like and empty first class apartment. Elbowing people out of the way, he tries to keep a tight grasp on Sanji’s arm so he doesn’t get lost. He gets more than one complaint from bystanders, but being as muscular as he is, a look is enough to shut them up most of the time. He just wants to sit and keep his idiot roommate away from people for the duration of their ride, is that really too much to ask?
“We can’t sit here,” Sanji slurs as Zoro presses him into an empty seat. After the claustrophobic feeling of being pressed between so many people the small compartment almost feels like heaven. Groaning, he lets himself sink opposite of Sanji.
“Yeah it’s New Year’s, no one will care. “
“But the people outside-”
“Cook. I lived in trains for weeks, so just trust me on this.”
Sanji falls silent and looks out of the window for a while. There’s nothing to see there, just darkness and some light of the city, the various clubs and bars. He watches the people instead, drinking cheap champagne from half empty bottles. Zoro wishes he had some of them to make their ride more bearable.
The train starts, and the lights blur. The sight buzzing of the wheels on the tracks lulls him in and he almost falls asleep. He doesn’t notice his eyes falling closed until the other man starts to speak again.
“Tell me what I’m doing wrong.”
For a second, all Zoro can do is look at Sanji like he grew another set of eyes. But he looks completely sincere, his face showing the type of honesty that only drunk people can have, eyes big and questioning, the face still partly red from cold and alcohol. It makes him look true, and somehow irritatingly innocent.
The pressure to find an answer makes Zoro nervous and he hears his heartbeat pulse in his ears. He feels a bit shaky, clearly the cold is still catching up to him, confusing his body. He wills himself to sit still.
“Just back off a bit. You’re coming on too strong.”
The answer seems to baffle Sanji. He just stares at him, and a heavy silence settles over the compartment. He can almost see the cook’s brain working, confusion written all over his face. Zoro almost feels bad for being so honest but then again, it also feels a bit triumphant to say something that he held back for so long. Also it’s satisfying as always to make the other speechless, to hit him somewhere where it hurts.
Then again, maybe he
has
crossed a boundary tonight.
“Look-” he begins, but Sanji interrupts him almost right away.
“I shouldn’t have expected an useful answer from you of all people!” He scoffs, turning away and swaying a bit in the process. “I should have known better than to ask someone who doesn’t even bathe regularly.”
Zoro knows his roommate’s drunk out of his mind. He knows he also probably hurt him somehow and that it’s no surprise that Sanji responds with insults to injury. But still, the words sting, again, and his teeth clench in a failing attempt to will the feeling away.
“If you know everything better anyway, then don’t bother me with your stupid questions.” The words sound more affected than he wants them to.
But he would like Sanji to think better of him than he does, even if it hurts to admit it. And knowing that he doesn’t, that Zoro will probably always be nuisance to the other - he swallows thickly. All those little moments come to his mind again, every time he pulled the door shut behind him and felt like he was home, the times he stole food from the fridge and ate it all with Luffy, only to be found out by the cook to get yelled at and laugh. That one evening when they met in the hallway, both on their way to their rooms and were about to say goodnight but hesitated. It was awkward, but it was also exciting, because there was something in Sanji’s eyes that made Zoro shove his hands down his pants as soon as he hit the bed.
Thinking back to it, he feels like an idiot.
Sometimes Sanji brings out the worst in him. Right now, he can feel the rage rising in him, drowning the hurt out, and tainting every fiber of his being. He forgets his resolutions, as he feels his blood pressure rising. He wants to hit where it hurts, because he doesn’t deserve this and
he hasn’t fucking asked for it,
it is just how his life went down and now he has to get insulted by the very guy he wanted to get home safely.
“Well, maybe you can’t get with women ‘cause you’re actually gay.”
As soon as he said it, the words seem to echo through the small space between them. They are bitter and heavy. He knows he has made a terrible mistake. It’s too late to fix it now, and the relief he feels is fleeting and leaves a stale taste in his mouth.
Zoro watches Sanji react as if in slow motion. Sees furrowed brows and an opening mouth that is trying to form words, but doesn’t. The other man’s features twist into a grimace and then still for a second. They falter slowly, so slowly, burying any and all emotion under them.
What happens next is quick, to quick for him to notice and he only catches up as as it’s already over. Sanji is before him suddenly, their faces close together. He doesn’t look angry anymore, instead he looks at him with some kind of childlike curiosity. It’s weird to have Sanji so close, Zoro can see the different colors of his eyes, how far up the blush on his cheeks goes.
His lips tingle and feel strange like they are no longer part of his body.
“Definitely not gay,” Sanji says, but his voice sounds breathy.
Zoro doesn’t know if he put the pieces together in the right way. Did Sanji just - kiss him? Because that’s not a thing that happens. It’s just not possible. Especially after they just were in a fight, after the things he said. He would have expected Sanji to kick him, maybe even hit him, but...
But now they are just inches apart from each other and their eyes lock. And Zoro feels like he should say something. Do something. But he can’t think of anything, it’s like his brain stopped dead in its tracks, and there is just emptiness left. He can’t move, can’t lean back, just stare into Sanji’s eyes, which are blue, which he knows but he didn’t even once notice how blue exactly.
After what feels like minutes, he finally wills his lips to produce sound. “Okay then.” He still hasn’t looked away.
Zoro will not remember if it was him who initiated it. But Sanji is on his lips,
again
, and this time, he can feel them. They are soft, of course they are, and they move slowly and a bit awkwardly against him. There is pressure on his lap and he knows it’s Sanji, who is leaning down to him, making him look up to him, heavy but slim. He doesn’t make the conscious decision to touch him, but suddenly he feels Sanji’s back underneath his hands, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. There is an exhale against his lower lip, and he opens his mouth instinctively, letting in the other man’s tongue, which clumsily touches his. It’s uncoordinated. It’s wet. It’s enough to make Zoro hard in his pants instantly.
Need burns through him all of a sudden, and he hears himself growling, pushing up impatiently. A hand is in his hair, clinching. It hurts, but it’s oh so good. His own fingers trail over Sanji’s thighs, feeling the rough material of his pants and the muscle underneath, hearing the other gasp quietly into the kiss. His hips brush against his abdomen, letting Zoro feel Sanji’s erection against him.
Something clicks in him, and with one strong move, he brings Sanji down to level with him, so he push up against his ass. He is aching inside his jeans, wanting release, and even though it’s only been a few seconds, he wishes he could have Sanji right here on the train.
Zoro is dimly aware of only a thin glass pane separating them from the rest of the people, who are still standing crowded together in the hallways. He couldn’t care less, though, because all that matters is that Sanji is grinding down on his and even though it’s just the tiniest bit of wrong, it is still the best fucking thing Zoro has ever felt. Because it’s Sanji, who eagerly moves his hips back and forth, seemingly now knowing what he’s doing, still not breaking the kiss. Sanji, who rakes his fingers through his hair and down to his shoulders and the small part of his chest he can reach. Everywhere he touches Zoro’s skin feels like it’s on fire, and he wants,
needs
, more than this. He wishes his hands were big enough to cover every part of Sanji’s body.
There’s too many clothes and too little heat. They move furiously, trying to make as much as they can of the friction and every place they touch. Sanji tastes like cold smoke and stale beer, and they both smell like sweat and people and still a bit like the cold outside.
It’s almost too intense, the pleasure singing though his body and he knows he is leaking into his underwear. He can’t hold back the groans that escape him every time Sanji grinds down, the closeness, the lack of oxygen that is making him dizzy. Sanji moans into his mouth every time his cock rubs against Zoro. He sounds like he is about to lose control, almost desperate, and Zoro feels the sound vibrate back in him. They should stop, they are both drunk, and it’s late. There are people watching and even though Zoro still can’t say that he minds, he feels their looks on him. Also Sanji is speeding up, and if he goes on like this, yes, just like this, Zoro is going to come in his jeans after a few minutes of rutting together like animals and they have to get home like this-
A loud beeping sound interrupts them. It’s the conductor speaking, his brain informs Zoro, and he’s saying something. A name, it’s a name, and it sounds oddly familiar.
Suddenly startled, he snaps back to himself. That’s their street. They have reached the end of their ride.
He jumps to his feet, almost dumping Sanji on the floor in the process. If they don’t get out now, who knows where they will end up? Zoro didn’t have a clue they were this close already and he clearly lost every ounce of concentration he had when Sanji began touching him. He swallows thickly. At this rate, they will still be riding the train tomorrow. Grasping for his roommate’s arm again, and without listening to any of his complains, he grasps for his hand and pulls them out of the compartment.
------
Everything is too bright. Sanji’s eyes are still closed, but he can feel the light burning through his lids. Sanji turns his head, only to find that breathing has suddenly become impossible. Also the movement is accompanied by a wave of sickness, followed by a hammering pain in his head. He tries to open his eyes, but they won’t obey him. He needs a few tries until he finally manages to blink - and promptly regrets it. Everything is too bright.
He knows how a hangover feels. But what the hell did he do yesterday? He can only remember following Ace, Marco and Zoro into the bar they agreed to celebrate in. He had a few beers, which is unusual, but well, it was New Year’s Eve. At some point he sat down next to Zoro, and god only knows why he chose there of all places, but then...his mind is blank.
Rubbing his face in an attempt to wake himself up, he feels the heaviness in his limbs. He went well overboard, drinking until he blacked out.
He opens his eyes again, at least wanting to try to orient himself. But the couch seems familar, and he knows the living room too. He’s at home, on the couch. There is a blanket on him. It’s not unfolded, but big enough to cover at least his chest. To his right he sees the trash can next to his head. So Zoro noticed how drunk he was. Well, at least he paid mind on the living room carpet. As if blacking out wasn’t bad enough, he had to do it in the presence of that idiot moss head. Sanji will never live down the jokes that follow that night, even if he doesn’t remember being there himself.
Zoro is still there, too, sitting at the end of the couch, an empty bottle of Sake still in hand. Did he decide to continue celebrating at home and fell asleep in the process? It would be very much like him, Sanji decides, and vows to hide the alcohol better so his roommate will actually find his room the next time they go out.
Next to the trash, he can see a bottle of water and a bottle of pain pills. Did he put them there yesterday? From the way he feels, Sanji can’t imagine he’d put so much effort and though in his future state. That just leaves Zoro though. And his roommate is a lot of things, but this… Well, Sanji has never seen him actually care for something except his swords. It’s almost nice.
His head hurts more from thinking, though, and Zoro being considerate is just one more side to him he decides not to examine too closely. Together with how he looks while he drinks his first coffee of the day, still dishevelled, or how every once in a while, when it’s late at night and they are both too tired to fight, Zoro will say something really clever and impressive, that never fails to change how Sanji sees the world. But it’s nice and warm here, and he can feel sleep trying to pull him under again, so he decides to think about all of this later and lets the sound of Zoro’s breathing lull him into another dream.