Archive of Our Own

Work Text

'All my life, I have been picked like a rose.'

Sanji

‘LITERATURE - 305.'

He pushes on the door, which creeks. The professor, an old bearded man, has his back to the class as he writes on the lone chalkboard. His voice booms.

“Now you’ll notice that the war in this story could have been avoided had the kings not both had their eyes on the same set of females.”

The course room is full when Sanji meanders in, anxiety causing his heart to beat out of his chest. He didn’t mean to be late today, the first day of all days. His eyes scan over the faces taking up all the tables: a gnarly group of gothic kings in the back corner, fit with girls that would have been queens in historical times. Their jawlines are sharp, ears ever so slightly pointed. The blonde has the most beautiful, thick braid he’s ever seen, and he nearly swoons. Peeling his eyes away, he spots his

beloved

Nami at another table; her hand fluttering about in a wave, her brown eyes piercing him with desire and command. He ignores the glaring pink-haired presence next to her. She waves again, then blinks, expectant of his compliance. His eyes continue to wander, finding Ace, one of his best friends, who is taking the class for the fourth time, asleep at the only other table with empty seats, and some other familiar but implacable faces seated throughout the full classroom.

“So nice of you to join us-“ The professor’s voice drones on in boredom. “Would you mind taking a seat? We’re already discussing summer reading.”

He swallows, the time having gotten away from him. The empty chairs in the center of the room beckon his name, and he sits down, regardless of his girlfriend’s expectations. He cringes, aware of the problems this is going to cause later, but her table has the jarring presence of Reiju. He particularly is not fond of sitting with his nasty ‘sister’ and listening to her and Nami’s newfound friendship. The Professor waves his hand and turns back to the blackboard, the chalk scraping as he writes. Sanji settles in his seat next to Ace. He does not need distractions this year.

The class is an on-grade third year literature class, but occasionally students from both ahead and behind end up here. He can’t truly count the number of times Ace has attempted this class. Sanji’s just your normal university student, so he expects the class to be made up mostly of his age group. He’s copying down the titles of expected readings when the door swings open, the boots shuffling in.

The two men at the door are charismatic, gorgeous, and awe-inspiring.

The first has short, soft-looking green hair and three gold earrings that dangle as he cocks his head. His blue wife beater accentuates his sweaty peck muscles. He’s gorgeous. His coal eyes show no remorse.

The man following behind him is equally gorgeous, wearing a white wife beater contrasting against the tribal tattoo covering his left side. His black hair stops around chin length and is just greasy enough to still be considered clean, and his jawline is sharp.

“Boys,” the professor clears his throat in anger. “Zoro, Cassian. Sit. From now on, grades will be deducted for tardiness.” He points his chalk towards Sanji. “Your tardiness is noted as well.”

Zoro drops his messenger bag next to Sanji. His voice is husk and ignorant of the threat. “Is this seat taken?”

He shrugs.

The other man, presumably Cassian, takes the seat with Nami and Reiju. Her eyes glow with revenge, and she’s immediately wrapped in a whispered discussion as the Professor lectures. Sanji tries to focus on the lecture, but the student next to him - Zoro - keeps rummaging through his bag.

“Could you stop?” Sanji whisper-shouts.

“What’s it to ya eyebrows?” The response is laced with apprehension.

“Some of us are trying to pay attention, overgrown moss.”

“Do you maybe have a pencil I can borrow?”

“How do you manage to not only come late, but with absolutely no supplies?”

He grins, his teeth a bright white and his charisma oozing from his pores. “How did you get your eyebrows so curly?”

“Is this discussion important?” Sanji’s head whips up, expecting the professor to be in front of him, but instead finds the old man standing in front of Nami and the charming Cassian fellow. He should be jealous, but he can’t bring himself to be. “Since you all seem to be so chatty this morning, I should tell you that your seated table will be your project partners for the rest of this term. I hope you were paying attention this morning - because you will research a piece of romantic literature and present your findings.”

Present your findings

?

Findings of what?

His head races. He zoned out too far, and he can not count on Nami to assist him. He deliberately sat away from her. The fake smile plasters across her face as she flirts half-heartedly with the Cassian guy, but the daggers she sends in his direction give Sanji chills.

Everything Nami does is with intention. Some part of him does love her, he thinks.

She is a beautiful girl and exactly what his family would want for him: rich, smart, a bright future in cartography ahead of her. Her adoptive mother is retired military and oversees some made-up department for the government, collecting a nice paycheck. Judge had reiterated the importance of girlfriend appearances since he was young, and Nami was exactly that: a dream

girlfriend

.

He tries to gather his things unceremoniously when the class ends, the green-mosshead disappearing to talk with the blonde with the thick braid. He is only thrown off guard when Nami grips his skinny wrist hard enough to bruise and hauls him from the classroom. They do not make it far down the hall, tucked against the wall where any passing class member can hear them.

“What the fuck was that!” She pins him in the corner, her face angry with betrayal. “We always sit together. That’s the R-U-L-E… rule!”

“You were with Reiju.”

“So what?” Her face is red with anger, her fists balled by her side. “She is still your sister! Grow some balls! You’ll have to face her eventually.”

“And you are my girlfriend… I just thought…” His voice catches as he searches for the words to defend himself. “You are-“

“And she’s my friend

and

your sister. God, you are such an asshole! Did you do this because of that weird,

confusing

sexuality thing you have going on?”

He does not respond.

“I mean, Sanji,” she leans her hand against his arm. Her touch feels foreign. “It’s

disgusting

and embarrassing. You are WITH me, and we’re not going to be doing this anymore. It’s loser behavior!”

The berating continues and he remains in silence, letting the words continue as they bare into his soul. She strings the words together with angry ease, the shame heating his cheeks.

His family always lectures him about the importance of girlfriend appearances in fear he’d display a different type of love, and this lecture felt the same.

“Is something wrong here?“ Zoro rounds the corner, the gothic, unworldly looking peers following behind him. Cassian’s arm is linked with a beautiful goddess of a girl, and she’s shooting daggers at Nami.

“None of your business,” Nami spats back. “A couples quarrel is all.”

Zoro’s face pinches in an interesting manner, as if his brain is assessing the situation. He watches the bruises forming on Sanji’s wrists.

“You should stop this.”

“What are you bisexual, too?” She nearly snarls, the catty mean girl in her letting loose.

He nonchalantly leans against the wall, too close to their current position, his friends continuing by with only brief glances. He feels their acknowledgment, and the trust they have in Zoro.

“Nami,” Sanji cuts in. “I didn’t sit with him because of my sexuality. Zoro sat with me. I sat at the empty table because it was bare, besides Ace, and you know he’s useless! I didn’t want to be with Reiju again. You have to understand-“

“Fuck off,” she exclaims, her arms flippant in all directions. “Absolutely fuck off with you and your new gay friend.”

Zoro laughs, and Sanji thinks he could disappear into the wall.

“Consider the harm these actions could cost our families.”

Her heels click so hard against the floor, he swears he can hear them even once she’s out of sight. Zoro disappears too, not remaining for comfort, and Sanji to his knees. Why did Zoro even bother stopping?

What a mess. He’ll have to fix this later.

Cassian

Anxiously stepping into the room, Cassian surveys the space and the men who will soon be his flatmates. He’s eager to see Zoro’s familiar face, but regretful to leave his usual crew behind. It’s still hard to admit that the inner circle had been growing, and he knew a time would come when the roommate system no longer played in their favor. He had linked with Zoro for this school year, so at least he had one person on his side. But Rhys, Mor, Azriel - who knew what their own apartment held in store. There was some regret about not getting an apartment with his girlfriend, Nesta, but things had been tense, and Zoro was a safe bet. Cassian appreciated that friendship.

The new flatmates immediately proved to be an interesting bunch, but he keeps his distance with a sense of warning. The large shared area seems to be their hang out spot.

Seated in the corner, notes spread across a mahogany desk, is the blonde male - Sanji, was it? - from earlier. His nose is buried deep inside a cookbook, his attention focused, but storms brew in his eyes. Cassian assumes they will discuss the interesting relationship, maybe after the male warms up to him. He’s dating that flirty red-head, right?

His groin pools thinking of the girl. She was bewitching, a different type of allure drew him in. Her hair was fiery, much like her tongue, and her eyes were the richest brown, passion hidden behind them. She was witty, a tongue so quick with words… he only imagines what she could do in the bedroom. In the five minutes they talked, she had challenged him head on, a self confidence Nesta had always lacked.

He turns to the sofa to take a deep look at the flatmates, but the three men are already loudly talking at him. An assortment of recreational marijuana and beers cover the table in front of them. He refocuses away from the memory of Nami (and the feeling in his groin), following the loud chatter.

The gangly, long limbed male with fluffy black hair has a straw hat perched atop his head. His laugh is contagious and his entire body flails. “Heyyy! You must be the new roommate! I’m LUFFY! Zoro says you’re COOL!”

Cassian offers his hand, but it’s ignored as Luffy pushes a dorky, long-nosed male from the couch towards him at full speed. His braids flutter around his head. “This is Usopp!! He used to be a pirate captain, isn’t that cool!”

“Uh… ya-a-eah,” Usopp stammers, his knees wobbly. Fear radiates off the long-nosed fellow, and he doesn’t meet Cassian’s eye.

The third male speaks over the lit blunt hanging from his mouth. “No he didn’t. They are both just full of stories.” He blows the smoke with practiced ease. “I’m Ace.”

Properly, he shakes hands with Ace and finds he rather likes the man. He has a sense of danger and mystery to him, as well as good looks.

“Cassian.”

“Ah, Zoro’s friend!” Ace’s eyes light up as he inhales another drag of the blunt.

The blonde looks up from the corner, but Cassian chooses to ignore that direct attention.

“Do you know where Zoro is?”

“He’ll be back later, sit sit sit sit with us!” Luffy’s pulling on his arm as he stomps towards the couch. “Nami will be here soon too and then our other new roomie Sanji will make us a great meal!”

“You cook?”

“I just dabble.”

“He is incredibly humble.” Ace’s blunt has vanished, but he’s flicking a lighter on and off and watching the flame. The flame creates shadows on his face, making Ace look quite twisted and dangerous. “Sanji’s the best cook there is. If his parents weren’t so desperate in getting him to take over the family’s factory, he’d own the best restaurant to ever exist. I asked him to stay with us for that reason alone.”

Their eyes meet and Cassian’s brain swirls. He’s never seen someone whose sadness leaks from the blue color in their eyes. He’s never seen someone so slender and toned, long-legged with pale skin and blonde hair. He’s lost in his head as he drinks at the moment.

For a brief few seconds, he gets it. He understands like he’s never understood before.

But then the front door slams hard, the shelves rattling and causing an annoying sound. The click clack of heels on the hardwood tell him that it’s no other than the wickedly beautiful bitch he ran into earlier. He watches as she says hello to no one, taking her time sauntering to Sanji’s side and closing the cookbook right in front of him.

“Your father requests a meeting.”

“What is she doing here?” Zoro’s figure follows, taking up the whole doorway, and his teeth flash. Cassian knows that stance, it’s met with passionate anger and disappointment.

“I’m

his

girlfriend.”

“Really? That display in the hall doesn’t convince me.”

The two lock eyes, an inevitable showcase of their stubborn behavior. Cassian snickers - if she thinks Zoro will lose, she’s got something coming to her.

“This is my home,” Zoro answers, not blinking. “And you will treat everyone in it with respect.”

“Always.” Her face arranges in a charismatic manner, a posed smile lighting up her cheeks. “I treat everyone with the respect they deserve.”

Her fingers lock around Sanji’s, and she drags him out swiftly. Zoro watches with intent as they scoot past him. The door slams, rattling the walls.

Zoro takes a large breath, and Cassian waves, a hopeful distraction.

“Hey guys, this is Cassian. He’s the roommate I recommended.”

“We’ve introduced,” Ace says. His blunt is gone, but he’s lighting a homemade gravity bong in its place.

“Is the blonde your friend?“ Zoro watches as the smoke fills the air, the stench wafting through. Luffy’s laughing without taking a breath, and Usopp’s hiding in a corner, mumbling something about two big scary men being too many for him. Coward.

“Yeah.” Ace smirk grows as he raises his eyebrows. “I told you, you’d like.”

“He’s dating that bitch.”

Cassian can’t stop himself. “She didn’t seem too bad.”

“She was literally abusing him!“

“It’s complicated,” Ace drops the lighter as he lounges back into the sofa. “The two are forced together by their families. I think if they could escape that fate, they’d both be a lot happier.”

“Makes sense,” Cassian takes a seat next to Ace, grabbing one of the closed beers from the table. He pops the cap and lets the cold beer wake him.

“I’m huuuuunnnngrrrrrry,” Luffy’s stomach growls. “Where is Sanji?”

Zoro watches his hands, running his fingers over the knuckles with a contemplative look on his face. He’s deep in thought as he traces the lines on his hands. Cassian knows the look all too well, and might be feeling it a bit himself.

Zoro

Lunch is boring.

Capital B.

Boring.

The university’s cafeteria acts like a town center. Large cafeteria dining hauls spread out with a garden in between. Lots of options to choose from. Zoro stabs his fork into his salad - health is his priority with this new gym routine him and Cassian are on.

He looks at the sea of people. Cassian said he would get Rhys and Mor and they would meet him here.

He stabs another fork into the lettuce mixture, and watches the flutters of students roaming from the different eatery options. Some are studying, some chatting, all too loud and obnoxious for him.

He sees the blonde hair first, and Nami clipping on the man’s heels, mere seconds behind, her mouth moving awfully fast as she lectures. The pink-haired girl from literature class is also keeping up with them, and Zoro is, for the first time, well aware of the stark similarities in their eyebrows. He snorts. They turn the corner with their lunch trays, and disappear out of sight.

“You are such a loner,” Ace’s voice interrupts his thoughts. “A hot loner.”

He snorts. “Cassian will be here with everyone soon.”

“Cool.” Ace is unfazed as he sits in one of the chairs. He fidgets with the orange hat on his head.

Zoro watches Sanji take a seat alone and cover his face with his hands. He looks tired. The wicked witch and his sister are nowhere to be found. Zoro stabs his lettuce even harder. He doesn’t know why he cares so much about this random guy’s emotions - he’s never been much of an empath.

Ace pulls his hat over his eyes and slips down further in the chair.

“You are watching him,” Ace says, his signature smirk cocked on his face. His eyes gleam. “You have a thing for Sanji?”

“No,” he responds. “We’re just project partners in class. With you- might I add.”

“Well hey, maybe I’ll finally get an A!”

“Zoro!” Cassian’s clasp on his shoulder is rough as he makes his entrance. Rhys follows behind, dark and brooding, dressed in an all black ensemble sure to make the girls swoon.

His lady, Feyre, is as elegant as she is scary. Tattoos ink down her arm onto her hand, and down her back. Her face is of glorious structure, and her light brown hair is pulled back from her face. She smiles as she sits, Rhys at her side. Their love is immediate and burning, and has been for years. Zoro longs for that, and based on Cassian’s look, he thinks they might actually have a lot in common emotionally.

Mor follows, her thick blonde braid dangling down her back. She’s dressed in a long red dress with a large slit up both sides, known for her ability to gather the men’s attention. Zoro likes her. She’s smart, emotionally intelligent, and doesn’t drain his energy. She takes a seat right next to Cassian.

“We’re thinking of checking out the welcoming parties,” Rhys starts. “It’s apparently hosted by one of the big sororities on campus, a good way to learn hierarchy and social status. See who we need to be friends with and who we need to stay away from.”

Mor rolls her eyes at Rhys’s interest in political social status. Future President and all.

“I think it’s at that girl's house,” she perks up, a genuine interest in her eyes.

“It is,” Ace lifts his hat. “It’s at Nami’s. I’m Ace, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you.” Rhys eyes are filled with judgment as he looks over Ace. “You smoke?”

“I do anything that keeps me relaxed, but yes, I’m skilled with fire.”

“Nami.” Cassian repeats.

“Yeah, Sanji’s obnoxious-arranged girlfriend. Her parents own a house super close to the school. Guaranteed to be a banger.” Ace snickers.

“Have you guys started on the literature project yet?” Feyre changes the topic with ease, and Zoro’s grateful.

“I missed most of it. What’s the project even about?”

“It’s basically a free for all with the overarching theme of Romance. He’s treating it similar to a capstone. Rhys and I are doing ours on physical touch in romance stories and how often it’s used to drive plot versus how often it could be removed.” She smiles at him.

Mor gags. “I’ve somehow been included, so we’ll also be doing a comparison with more historical novels.” Bitterness drags in her tone.

Zoro looks at Cassian, who shrugs. “Dude we were both late, I’m as lost as you.”

“We’re doing ours on a book about pirates,” Ace laughs.

“No, we aren’t.” Zoro responds.

Rhys’s eyebrows raise, and Zoro knows he is going to have to explain his friend group later. He is hoping Luffy’s introduction to Rhys will loosen him up a bit, however unlikely.

“So, you guys are coming tonight? Does that include you, beautiful?” A cigarette has appeared in Ace’s mouth, and he smiles at Mor.

She structures her red lips, a perfectly forced smile on her face. “I’ll see you there.”

Zoro gags a bit. He wants to see his two friend groups conjoin, but… maybe without the romance.

He stabs at the last large piece of lettuce, his mind reeling. Nami’s sorority house, meaning Sanji will definitely be there.

He can’t stop the thought from sleeping into his brain. The need to be protective over him, the need to learn more about him and scratch the mental itch.

Sanji

His apron is hanging on its usual hook, and he ties it around him with a practiced ease. The Baratie is lit up with the sounds of the dinner rush bustling in. He meets the head chef, Zeff, at the end of the hall.

“Ah, little eggplant, are you here to work today?”

Sanji nods, eager. He loves the days he manages to find extra time to work at the Baratie. It is one of the highest rated restaurants in the city - rumor has it that people travel just to eat the food. Zeff has been an incredible mentor, and dare he say it, father-figure, to him.

He cracks his knuckles and follows Zeff into the kitchen, immediately getting to work. His knife slices through vegetables easily, the prep work quick and precise. He throws them in the pan and multitasks as he sautés, his brain wandering about the events of the day. He tries to push the thoughts from his head, and stirs the vegetables again.

A rush of smoke comes from his boiling pasta, and he reaches to grab the lid. Too slow, Zeff’s hand is already on it.

“Distracted from class?” His tone is collective and caring. Sanji nods. He stirs the vegetables again, not wanting to be on Zeff’s bad side. Not wanting to be a failure.

The cooking and the restaurant jobs are all secrets he hides from his parents and classmates. He risks it every time he clocks in, praying his parents never find out of his escapades. He knows they want him to run the weapon factory, that’s why they sent him to a prestigious university with an impressive international business program.

The pot boils over again and he curses his mistake, removing the lid and turning the burner down.

“What is on your mind? That wretched girlfriend of yours?”

Sanji scowls at him, but it’s not genuine. He hears a spoon ricochet off a nearby wall, another chef’s mistake catching Zeff’s anger. He hears the bickering, and goes to mix his own sauce. It takes longer than normal, but soon he’s lost in his craft. Nothing goes wrong as he plates his food and turns to the next order.

A pan clatters against the wall, and he hears his coworker curse the old man.

Sanji smiles. He loves it here. He plates his second plate with precision; not a single misstep. Zeff watches, a grin splattered across his face. Sometimes, in the serenity of the kitchen, he wonders what his life would be like if he was training to be a world class chef instead.

“Why don’t you serve those yourself?” Zeff smirks. “We know how you looooooove compliments.”

Zeff’s sous chefs, Carne and Patty, laugh at the remark. One of them dodges the tray headed in their direction.

Sanji can’t stop the grin from spreading across his cheeks as he rips his apron off and whisks himself into the dining hall. He balances the plates on a tray with a bottle of red wine.

Compliments of the chef.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Zoro

He is currently both over the late night study session and cursing himself for being late to the literature class over an extra workout.

Sitting at the table in the library, with two of the brattiest guys he has ever met, proves to be a bad evening. Of the two guys, one is an old friend with horrible study habits, and the other has beautiful blue eyes…

He shakes his head, distracted again from their conversation. His attention span is a tightly-wound ball today. He has to get over this emotional

thing

he’s developing.

Sanji arrived at half past seven, covered in grease, demanding they get to work before his girlfriend’s party. He has given them a strict timeline, and Zoro has no reason to be an inconvenience to them.

Ace is currently losing an argument with Sanji, and due to the amount of marijuana ingrained in his brain, he’s sounding more like an illiterate high schooler. His parents must pay a large sum to someone on the board to keep him enrolled in such a prestigious school.

“Romance Ace. Think Romance.”

“What about we do the project on that Hemingway guy?”

“He’s not romantic,” Sanji responds, tapping his pencil methodically against the deck.

“But I thought he wanted to die,” Ace responds back. He tosses a goldfish cracker into the air, swiveling his head in an attempt to try and catch it. The cracker falls to the floor. He repeats the action again, but the cracker still falls to the floor. He frowns before shoving a handful in his mouth.

Classy.

“Just because somebody wants to die doesn’t make them romantic.”

“I mean, you want to die, but you are still pretty romantic.” The crackers nearly spit out of his mouth as he speaks.

Zoro snorts.

Sanji’s beautiful eyes narrow as he glares back. “I don’t want to die.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

They ease back into silence. The two hour timeline provided is coming to a close, and they are not reaching any definite ideas. The notebook paper, brought by Sanji, has the simple title of “Literature Project Ideas” sprawled across the top. The page is empty, save for a few doodles and marks that look like recipe measurements. Not a single thing pertaining to the god damn literature project on the page - not even an idea.

He stares at his now empty protein shake.

Zoro iis not an exceptional student by any means, but he usually does not struggle with simple projects. He tilts the bottle in his hand, fidgeting. He can’t afford to fail the class, either.

“I’m gonna need a smoke soon,” Ace says to neither of them in particular.

“I could use a cigarette.”

“What about The Great Gatsby?” Zoro finds himself stunned by his own speaking. “Isn’t that a romance?”

Ace cackles. “Doesn’t that guy die? You're only proving my point.” He dumps the rest of the goldfish crackers into his mouth. “What about Taylor Swift?”

“Taylor Swift?” Zoro asks, genuinely interested in Ace’s train of thought, his lead.

“Yeah, she’s romantic and shit. We could study her lyrics.”

“That could work.”

Sanji’s head slams against the desk with a thunk. Without lifting his head, he speaks to no one in particular. “I’m stuck with the two biggest idiots I’ve ever met.”

Zoro grins. Something about Sanji just scratches a specific itch in his brain. He smiles, not that Sanji can see him with his head against the desk, but truly smiles at him. They stay like this in the silence. Ace rummages through his bag for cigarettes, while Zoro captivated himself in the aura that surrounds Sanji.

Sanji finally moves from the table, snapping his book shut and rising. “I have to go, Nami’s hosting a party tonight.”

Zoro notices the attempts to avoid his eyesight with intention, eyes trailing the floor. “She’ll be mad if I’m not there soon to help set-up.”

“Sure.”

“I’ll see you guys later.” He turns on his heel, their eyes still not making contact.

Zoro’s face is riddled with unapologetic judgment as he watches him stalk off. He carries himself with a charm, his hips swinging in a graceful manner. His eyes trace down the muscled, lean backside, landing on his glutes… His face suddenly flushes, and he looks down at the table, bringing his thoughts back to reality. He’s just a little horny, and Sanji’s his type, that’s all.

Maybe he’ll have a chance to meet someone tonight. Or he will force himself to meet someone.

“I saw that,” Ace says, putting his hat back on his head as he rises. “You’ve got it bad. Better figure it out.”

Zoro finds it better if he doesn’t respond to Ace’s remarks. He just waits as Ace leaves also, staring at the wooden table below him. He’s not one for a crush, and he’s not one to let an infatuation with someone throw him off his game. The sooner he has a hook up, the better. When did this

thing

for Sanji get so bad?

The sooner they finish this project the better. Come up with an idea, split the work, and never see each other again. Maybe he can even trade dorms.

Cassian

The crisp chill air of outside shivers around his arms as he opens the balcony door to find Ace enveloped in smoke. He holds up a lighter to the fresh cigarette and nods in Cassian’s direction.

His pockets feel heavy.

“How’s everything man?”

“Fine,” He is quick to be on the reserved side with Ace. He’s aware of Zoro’s trust with him, but trust needs to be earned. He can’t go around trusting every person his friends like.

“That’s good.” He breathes in the smoke that envelopes him. “How’s the literature project?”

“I think it’s going okay. Nami and that Reiju chic really have it figured out. They’ve picked a series of fantasy books and are doing a study on the statistical amount of smut in the books.”

“Smut?”

“You know, sex?”

“We’re doing ours on Taylor Swift.”

Cassian laughs out loud. “Okay man, that’s not literature.”

“But she’s really lyrical and shit.” He coughs on the bud of his spliff.

“Whatever you say.”

Ace breathes in another hit and the balcony door opens. Sanji slips out with a quick nod to Cassian.

“Mind if I smoke?”

“How can you even ask that with this chain smoker here?”

No verbal response is given, so Cassian uses the quiet to study the quad below. Their flat has the perfect view of the campus center and the beautiful trees that line the old stone work. Students use the space for everything - a few football players are tossing a ball back and forth, some girls are having a date on a picnic blanket, and a few ride scooters around the main hall. He watches with interest, wondering what type of freedoms he would be allotted if he left Nesta behind.

She’d freak out if she found out he was out in the quad, even if it was with their own inner circle.

When did things get so bad?

He watches the girls below as one feeds the other strawberries. Romance just isn’t for him. Maybe he would always have a thing for broken girls rather than somebody who could feed his soul. Matches his energy.

He is so lost in his own thoughts that Sanji’s presence spooks him. “What are you thinking about?”

The smoke blows from his lips effortlessly, as if his lungs are accustomed to years and years of smoking. Ace snores interrupt, the cigarette still leaving smoke behind in the ashtray. The sun beams off of Ace’s tan skin, and Cassian envies his simple lifestyle. His simple ability to exist so carelessly.

“My girlfriend.”

“Ah,” Sanji says. He blows the smoke into a perfectly shaped heart ring and smiles. “I do that too.”

They sit in an awkward silence. Cassian does not respond, not sure how to say he’d also rather be thinking about Sanji’s girlfriend. He smirks, eyes again falling on the students below.

The tension continues between them, and Cassian finds himself opening his mouth to diffuse the weird feeling prickling his brain. “Yeah, I just don’t know how much longer it’s going to work out.”

“Shame, really.” The bud of the cigarette hits the ashtray, and Sanji turns his body to look at Ace. He stares- almost as if checking for a signal of life. He must find the assurance he needs, because his eyes meet Cassian’s again.
“We’re still young, that’s what my mentor says. He says the world is our oyster.”

When Sanji laughs, it’s light like a feather, or like sunshine. He wonders if that’s what Nami finds attractive.

He reaches into his pocket, aware of the note folded inside. Burning his pocket, racing his mind, weighing him down. The note he found slipped under his bedroom door earlier today.

A bright orange paper with swirly, calligraphy handwriting-

“PARTY. Midnight. Cocoyasi Alpha Kai’s main house.”

Sanji

The only good thing about Nami’s parties is that she allows him - on occasion - to make platters and to mix drinks. He’s currently spread out in her kitchen. His hands are on a knife as he slices through cheese effortlessly. Routinely. In a kitchen where he belongs.

The horderves look wonderful. The platters are set with a mix of cheese and meat. They cover the island and extra counters. There are crackers and toasted bread spread about. Multiple boxes of wine are set up nearby, as well as buckets of beer. He looks at the punch bowl where he’s made his own version of party juice.

The calm before the storm.

Nami leans against the counter, swirling a ladle through his party juice. She’s party ready, and in this light, he gets it. He knows she is beautiful. He knows she could have anyone she wanted.

She continues to stare at her reflection, her thoughts hidden behind the mask she wears on her eyes. He can’t break that mask, so he continues slicing the cheese.

Nami is only ever calculated and cold.

These platters won’t last long, the first of the party goers will devour them before they get sloshed. Alcohol will cover the countertops first, then inevitably discarded items. He sighs, watching his handiwork.

She stirs the ladle again, and when their eyes meet, hers are piercing and vengeful.

“I want you to be with me and Reiju at the party.”

He keeps his eyes trained on the vegetables, his movement fluid and precise. He nods his head.

She stirs the ladle again and he sweats.

“How did your study session go?”

He can feel the lack of empathy in her question, the metaphorical quotation marks around ‘study session’. He ignores her, but makes sure to continue to avoid eye contact.

“Ace is an idiot.”

“No duh. Nothing more than a dipshit with an urge to fuck.”

She might be right, but Sanji doesn’t want to make things worse, so he stays quiet.

“We have a topic,” she continues. “You could have joined us, you know.”

The brick of cheese is gone. He looks down at his hands, and silently, moves his cutting board and knife to the sink.

“Your parents won’t be happy if you fail another class because of these desperate crushes.”

He turns the water on, up to a blistering heat. Ignoring her. Channeling the words elsewhere. The sink water runs over his hands as it heats, and he begins rinsing from the cutting board.

“You could just be happy with me.” Her voice cracks.

The water is scalding. He cleans his knife. He should respond with care, but he can’t open his mouth. He stares at the blade.

“Whatever.” She drops the ladle to the floor, and it clatters so loud he cringes. More for him to clean, but a longer distraction. The water steams. “I hate how you think your actions don’t affect me too.”

The doorbell rings.

“I’ll hang with you and Reiju tonight.” He folds.

Her eyes gleam with a vengeful type of delight.

“Good, because she’s here already!” He hears her heels rescinding, so he turns from the sink, ready to clean whatever mess she left behind.

He looks at the juice splatters against the pearl tile floor. When did things get so bad?

Cassian

The house is ginormous, unlike anything he has ever seen. The shutters are a vibrant, repainted red, focused with hues of oranges. He stares blankly at the perfect white siding and the rose bushes that intertwine up the large pillars leading to the stone front door. He can not help but stare.

He imagines in the daylight, the house would be even more beautiful. Something out of a movie, a picture-esque daydream. He imagines that the house does not normally have drunk kids strewn across the perfectly manicured front lawn. He imagines that the windows do not usually have party lights and disco ball colors projecting out of them, and that the rose bushes are not covered with toilet paper. He kicks at a red solo cup as they approach the door.

Nesta clings to his arm, her face in as much awe. One of the few things he does appreciate about her is her humble charm- coming from a broken, poor family with a crippled father tends to lend her a new appreciation of life. He watches as she attempts to shut her jaw, and regain her emotionless composure, her lips sealed in a thin line.

Cassian stares at her. She is gorgeous. Her olive tan skin compliments her bright green eyes. For tonight, she used a golden eyeshadow and highlight to compliment her already perfect skin, and her lips were stained black with some shade of a gothic lipstick. She wears a tiny red slip - which looks more like a nightgown than an actual dress, but accentuates her long legs.

He shouldn’t complain. He could easily spend the late night fucking her, if she so obliges. Just because their personalities are starting to not mesh doesn't mean that his cock wouldn’t fit inside of her.

She reaches for the doorbell, and the ding nearly startles him.

He feels the gloved hand on his shoulder and turns around to find Zoro behind him. He smiles. Cassian loves Zoro’s company, nothing could change that.

Zoro’s outfit choice is bizarre: he wears a zipped up leather vest with enough chest coverage peeking out. His pecks are ripped, and one of his best assets. Cassian would never tell him, but Zoro was the perfect workout partner.

To Zoro’s left stands that skinny boy Ace. Laced with just enough muscular coverage for his bony form, Ace wears a similar leather vest, though unzipped, and his goofy orange cowboy hat. He wears these ridiculously too big dark denim shorts, and Cassian could smell the weed that hides among all the pockets.

He groans. Ace is ridiculous, but Zoro loves him. Cassian can understand why - he is charming, flirty, and fun. His brain can’t help but wonder if Ace has a serious persona to him.

He knows Rhys is already inside, probably with Feyre, Mor, and Azriel. He imagines that the blonde hair guy -

Sanji is it?

- and the rest of the flatmates are already inside, along with Nami.

His brain flatlines at the thought of Nami.

Her feistiness.

Her composure.

The way she holds herself drives him wild.

Nami is a fighter, much more so than Nesta. Nami knows she is attractive, not some broken thing he needs to constantly fix. But he knows better than to jump from one relationship to another, because the grass isn't always greener on the other side.

The door swings open and a beautiful girl answers. He does a quick assessment of her bubblegum pink hair and swirly eyebrows. She is wearing a similar lingerie dress piece like Nesta (glad his girl got the memo), fishnet tights, and ridiculously tall platform boots. Butterfly wave rings drape over her back, completing her spontaneity. He stares at her, as the overfilled red solo cup starts to spill on the floor.

“Reiju,” Ace’s nod is curt, and Zoro scowls, as if he recognizes her. Cassian acknowledges their behavior, also cataloging it for later. He racks his brain. Reiju is familiar. She’s in their literature project group, right?

The three vodka shots were a bad idea.

“Welcome!!!” She nearly squeals, the cup dropping to the floor as the contents spill. She throws her arms around Cassian, and then squeezes Nesta as if they are old friends. “I’m Reiju, Nami’s best friend in the whole world!”

She exclaims with passion, her face lighting up as her swirly eyebrows nod in every direction. “I’ve been talking to Rhys and Feyre, they are so interesting! Come in, come in! Nami is inside somewhere with my awful brother!”

Her eyes glass over, and she picks up the cup, with no acknowledgement of the alcohol spill. “My cup’s empty! I’ll just have to show you where the beers are!”

She nearly trips over her boots, pulling Nesta’s hand along. Cassian follows, a buzzed guard dog. He watches Ace split off, something about finding his brother Luffy and lighting up.

Flames. Marijuana. Cigarettes. Who knows which Ace actually meant.

He feels Zoro’s eyes bear into his backside, into his soul, but the feeling leaves quickly as he disappears into a separate corridor. The house is huge, so it’s very likely they all would get lost, separated among the sea of sweaty, drunk, intoxicated bodies. Multiple hands grab for and bodies shimmy against him as he hurries to keep pace with Nesta and Nami. He will find Zoro later, maybe drop Nesta with Feyre and figure out a guy's game plan.

Leaving Nesta behind wouldn’t be too difficult, he supposes, as she unlinks their arms and feigns a disinterest in him as Reiju talks excitedly.

How did they get here again? He inwardly sighs.

How does one even picture forever with someone? He looks ahead, but Reiju and Nesta are gone, disappearing around a corner. He knows he’ll find them in the same place he finds the woman of his dreams. He hesitates to follow.

The vodka is not enough for this.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Zoro

The party is loud.

Zoro hates loud.

He would much rather be in their dorm, drinking a beer, watching a game of Super Smash brothers on the TV as his friends play. He needs to find someone to hang with besides the two halves of a failing relationship, aka Cassian and his girlfriend.

He hates being inside Nami’s house, it’s appearance is an extension of herself.

Pretentious and riddled with secrets.

He watches Cassian disappear behind Nesta, behind a sea of bodies, following Reiju. Her outfit is loud, another desperate plea of hers for attention. He decides then - he might hate Reiju as much as, if not more than, Nami. She’s always been obnoxious throughout classes, a clear instigator, and she seems to be a source of Sanji’s frustration.

He doesn’t want to see Sanji either. His head has been swimming, and he can’t seem to escape them, regardless of his desperation or attempts to.

Maybe Zoro just wants to be alone. Maybe he’s a lone wolf. Maybe he hates everyone there is.

He takes the ridiculous, fingerless gloves off and sheds the hot leather jacket. Both are pieces of the ridiculous outfit procured by Ace, who is also nowhere to be found. He lost him as soon as they smelt a good deal of marijuana, so what is Zoro supposed to do now?

He makes his way past the drunk bodies, his fingers curdled with irritation. His friends are lost and he is stuck somewhere he did not want to be in the first place.

He spots Rhys seated in a large red leather chair beside a fireplace mantle. Very fitting of Rhys to find the only place that made him look like a president, always a politician. Feyre sits on his lap, her golden sequined dress complimenting his leather pants. They are truly the school’s power couple.

Rhys waves, and he returns the gesture, suddenly relieved to find familiarity amongst the pool of dancing bodies. He drags himself over, and sits beside Azriel on the couch, who nods a welcome.

“Seen Cassian?”

“He was with Nesta,” Rhys begins, “but Nesta was last seen with Reiju and Nami, and they are now nowhere to be found.”

“I’m sure he’ll come around us soon,” Feyre compliments the sentiment. “He always finds his way to us.”

Zoro nods, taking a beer from the ice bucket in the center table. It’s some fancy IPA, and he takes a swift sip of the bitter taste. He shrugs, the sensation lost on his tongue.

“Nami’s social status is apparent, she resides at the top of the food chain,” Rhys continues. He treats everything like a game of politics, every person they meet like both a threat and a game. Sometimes, his consistent distrust can be fun, but sometimes annoying, as in this case. “Her boyfriend, though, is mysterious to me. He is not popular. Seems like he struggles to stay afloat.”

Zoro clicks his tongue. He can’t escape the thoughts swimming around

said

boyfriend.

“And his sister, Reiju. I don’t trust her.” Rhys clicks his own tongue. “She’s up there in popularity, but it seems to be an extension of Nami. She’s the one we need to befriend.”

“No.” Zoro answers.

“Why not?” Rhys raises his eyebrows.

“She seems like a bitch.”

“Well, luckily we aren’t scared off by nasty-personalities.”

Zoro looks to Feyre for help, but she shrugs off the bitter tone, letting Rhys speak for her.

“I suggest you try and find one redeeming quality,” Rhys says. “I need the two of them on my side when it comes to class president.”

Zoro rolls his eyes, and swigs the beer again.

Cassian comes into sight, and he extends a wave, catching his attention. “Party’s wild.”

“Sure.”

“I expected as much from that Queen Bee,” Cassian extends his fingers towards Nami, who’s currently pushed up against Sanji, “and this house, it’s really something.”

“God,” Zoro groans. He’s tired of hearing about Nami and tired of everyone asking him pissy questions. He swears he saw something flicker in Cassian’s eyes, but he decides to ignore it. He needs more alcohol

now

, and maybe a cigarette. “Do you want to find Ace? I’m sure he’s up to something fun?”

Cassian shrugs. Zoro just wants familiarity and comfort, as well as a distraction from the current conversation. He takes a peak at Nami grinding against Sanji again, and decides he’s going to find Ace, regardless if anyone follows.

He’s grateful when Cassian does, and they make their way through the hallways, past the gyrating couple in the kitchen, and out the sliding glass door.

The patio is as arrogant as the rest of the house. Beautiful antique wicker chairs line up against a long, glass patio table with an umbrella embellished with gold accents. The wood is clean, not splintered or decaying. It looks fake, like a plastic deck designed for a movie scene. The deck is expansive. Some of the chairs are scattered around, and he spots Ace’s hat peeking over the back of one first.

He moves towards it, only to realize that the hat is adorned with a thick, blonde braid that dangles over the back of the chair. He pauses taking in the scene.

Ace on top of Mor, his hat on her head. Their mouths are locked together as their bodies move as one. The low whistle at his side confirms he is in reality, Cassian sees it too.

The smart comment Cassian makes is lost upon him, as he stares. He wanted his friend groups to introduce, but Ace has a reputation with the girls, and it’s not a good one. He’s likely to break her heart and somehow make it Zoro’s fault. It’s a cycle that happens over and over again.

It must be written on his face, because Ace is speaking to him also, and suddenly, he’s following behind Mor as they exit the deck, her body moving both seductively and rhythmically as they make their way back into the house.

“I think they are going to use one of the extra rooms,” Cassian murmurs. “And I think I’m going to find Nesta and do the same myself.”

Zoro says nothing in response, waving him off with his hand as he stares out into the barren deck. The bitter breeze is comforting as he takes a few shallow breaths.

The screen door slides open, and Cassian exits, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Sanji

The deck’s sliding door keeps opening, and everytime it does, it squeaks, irritating his nerves to no end. The high pitched sound rattles him enough to distract him from the hips grinding against his and the wet kisses on his mouth. The gust of cold wind does nothing to soothe his soul.

Nami is plastered. She’s had way too much to drink and her inhibitions are down, meaning her normally cold demeanor is warm. Her touch is overstimulating him. He usually appreciates her kisses, but these are sloppy.

The sliding door opens again. The squeak irritates his ears.

Her tongue tastes like alcohol as she thrusts it inside his mouth.

The slam of the door tells him the perpetrators were rather strong or angry. It is about that time of night when people start arguing, and drama prevails.

Her mouth moves to his cheek and down his neck. He’s pinned against the wall as she plants the slobbery kisses on him.

The door opens again with a loud squeak. He can’t take it anymore.

“Nami,” he mutters beneath her, his back pushed against the wall. “Can we take a break?”

He puts his hand between them and slowly pushes her body away from his, trying to get from beneath her.

Her eyelids flutter open, and she focuses on him for a few moments. Her eyes are glassed over. “What?”

“Break?” He gestures to his neck, rubbing his hand over where the hickeys are sure to be. His hand is wet. “I need fresh air.”

“Did you have too much to drink?” She stammers over her words. The pot calling the kettle black. He nods and she steps backward, wobbly on her heels. She steadies her balance and posture. “I could use more alcohol.”

He is glad when she takes her heels off. She tosses one amongst the counter, right on top of one of the empty metal trays that once held cheese. Dents it. She smirks at him. “I’ll be with Reiju. Promise you’ll find me?”

Sanji hates lying, but he nods slowly anyway. The door creaks again and the cold air blows in. He watches Ace pulling a girl inside, their hands intertwined and their shared sly smiles. He doesn’t know what that feels like, and most likely never will due to his family affairs. Nami never looks at him with seductive, secret smiles, their intimacy is forced or intoxicated.

He feels his pocket for his smokes and breathes the cold air in and out his nostrils. He’s barely had any drinks, taking care of Nami and making sure Reiju stays quiet.

The party rages inside. The music is loud. Someone is vomiting out the window. There are a few stragglers on the deck, participating in various activities. One girl is on the phone, crying as she sits on the ground. A couple is making out against the railings. A guy is blacked out on the ground.

Zoro stands against the railing, looking out into the back yard and trees.

He lights his cigarette.

“What are you doing out here?” He takes an inhale, the nicotine filling his lungs, and then leans against the railing next to Zoro.

“Avoiding the party.”

He doesn’t respond at first, finishing a cigarette before lighting another.

“I figured you’d be all over this,” Sanji says. “Your friends are like, party elitists. Some of the most popular…”

“I don’t like parties, swirly.”

He doesn’t answer, taking a drag of the cigarette. He’s not sure why he came over here, what possessed him to walk up to the brutish man who’s been nothing but rude and problematic. He turns to leave, maybe to check on the guy face down. Make sure he has a pulse.

“Do you ever…” Zoro begins. He stares into the black sky. “Do you ever wish you’d never been introduced to someone?”

“All the time.”

The silence is tangible.

“The stars are beautiful.”

“I guess,” Sanji responds, his head tilting to look at the dark sky. Nami’s sorority did have the fortune of being recluse from the light pollution. “Where are your friends?”

“Apparently fucking each other.”

“Bitter much?”

“I’m not bitter.”

“Sounds like it.”

“It’s Ace… He is going to break Mor’s heart.”

“Oh, you know the girl he was with?”

Zoro chugs the cup in his hand, and tosses it among the many others. “She’s Rhys’ cousin. She’s headstrong, but I somehow think this will all be my fault.”

“Maybe not. Maybe they’ll fall in love.”

Sanji believes in love. He knows Ace is a playboy, but that doesn’t mean he won’t eventually have a happy ending. He could be happy with the right girl.

Zoro snorts. “There is no such thing as love.”

“For some there is. Maybe not me, but I’m sure Ace could find someone who matches his fire.”

Sanji turns to look, and finds Zoro staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face. Their eyes meet slowly. His expression is laden with both anger and care. Desire.

“Are you in love?”

Sanji’s heart pounds in his chest. How does he respond to a question like that?

His silence serves as an answer for Zoro. “You deserve better.”

They are relatively close to each other, close enough that he can smell the alcohol on Zoro’s breath. It is intoxicating, mixed with the scent of old spice and salty sweat, he feels like he can’t breathe. His heart pounds faster. Maybe Nami was right, and some part of him sitting with Zoro did have to do with his good looks, even if It wasn’t the main reason.

“Saaaaaaanji!!!!” Nami’s voice is shrill as she slams the deck door open.

“Ace talks really highly of you,” Zoro continues. “I don’t understand how someone he describes as so loyal and kind could spend their time with

Nami

.”

“Saaaaaaaanji!”

Sanji doesn’t respond, frozen in place.

“What are YOUUU doing out HERE?”

“Having a smoke.”

“Reiju is waiting for us!!! Let’s get more drinks!” She throws her hand in the air, striking a pose, throwing her other heel into the air. She staggers over to Sanji, wrapping her arms around him and planting more kisses on his cheek.

He freezes, and his eyes meet Zoro’s. He can not convey the storm he sees inside the steel gray eyes. The beautiful shades of silver that are striking, the tint of grayish blue that sparkles with sadness.

Hand wrapped around his wrist, and he allows himself to be dragged inside, Nami unaware of the weird feeling in the pit of his chest. He thanks the beautiful stars in the sky for her inhibited perception and lack of awareness of his conversational partner.

He makes no acknowledgment of the eyes he can feel at his back.

Cassian

There were days when Cassian didn’t even think about Nesta. He didn’t think about her smooth skin or plump lips. He didn’t think about her feelings or her thoughts or her dreams. He didn’t plan dates or their future.

Some days she did cross his mind. Those were the days when his right hand would pump up and down, thinking only of her breasts or swollen folds. He’d smile at the thought of her plump lips closed around him as he climaxed. He didn’t think about her feelings or her thoughts or her dreams. He’d reach for the phone and give her a call, hoping they could meet for a real round.

Pressed against the wall, her tiny breathy moans escape her lips as he grinds against her. She groans his name. Their crotches are lined up, his pants tight as they rub against her red slip. They should find a room, rather than be on display publicly at the party. He thinks she might voice this concern in between moans.

He isn’t sure why he uses her as a crutch. A handicap. An excuse.

She’s saying something again, but his mind is blurry. He continues moving rhythmically against her body, the feeling of darkness settling over his body. Her head tilts back against the wall, the moans growing desperate and deeper. She says his name.

The sex was never anything special. It was normal, regular sex. It fulfilled him enough to not seek out the other options that presented themselves to him. She was pretty. She knew what he liked.

Down the hall, the thumping of a bed frame can be heard. He wonders if the partners love each other, or if they are strangers in the night. He plants kisses on her jaw, working his way down her jaw line to her earlobe, which he nips hard.

Her fingers are on his pants, delicate fingertips unbuttoning his pants and removing his belt.

He and Nesta could easily be strangers in the night.

“Cassian.” Her voice is breathy. Desirable. Agitating.

He bites her jaw harder, his body pressing more firmly against her. Pinning her to the wall, taking her just the way he likes.

She stops working on his pants and he reaches for her hand, but is stopped by the small shove.

He nips her ear again.

She shoves him.

He grinds against her harder, but she shoves again. He feels the wind leave him and he stumbles back.

“What the fuck?”

“I said stop.”

He rubs his stomach where she pushed. Is he so inebriated he didn’t hear her pleas? Were they so far broken he couldn’t read the signs anymore?

“You want to find a room?” He asks, confused. The hallway is sideways, and that dark feeling hangs over his eyes. He’s not sure where they are, but he is sure there is a room nearby somewhere. He narrows his eyes, but the hallway is still sideways and spinning.

“I think you're drunk,” she says. “You haven’t shown me this much attention in a while.”

“So? I’m showing you now.” He closes his eyes and leans against the wall for stability.

“Cassian.”

“Nesta.”

“Maybe,” she starts. He sees a single tear leak down her cheek, smearing her foundation. She wipes it away with the side of her hand quickly. “Maybe it’s time we take a break.”

“Why?”

“When was the last time you showed me any attention?”

“I brought you to this party.”

Why do they call it buzzed? The feeling in the back of his head feels like anything but a buzz. It’s a splitting concrete crack with a multitude of emotions slipping out.

“I just… I’m very drunk. You are very very drunk. We should take time to think. Can you even see straight?”

Drunk? Yeah. Sure. He is drunk and he is horny. The full force of her words are not registering. He stumbles towards her, but fails, the wall catching him.

“So we can’t fuck?”

“Let’s talk later.”

He thinks he nods, but the wall feels so nice. He slides down it until he’s sitting. The boner is gone and the blue balls arrive right in time. The walls are still spinning, and he’s not sure why Nesta left him here alone.

It is late, and he’s drunk and horny.

He can’t hear the music anymore, so he imagines the party has dwindled down as he closes his eyes to sleep. Somebody will find him here, someone else will take him home. He hears the bed frame thumping again, the only noise as his eyelids close for bedtime tonight.

Zoro

The night sky is truly gorgeous. The midnight colors remind him of the brims of Sanji’s iris. He lets out a sigh, the air now brisk. He’d been out here for most the nights, watching the sky and wishing on stars. Ace had disappeared with Mor, Cassian was most likely with Nesta, and Zoro was alone.

He can hear the silence from the windows, the music turned off and nothing more than the whispers of those still awake. He tries not to wonder where Sanji and Nami went.

Zoro did not mind being alone. He had never been one for romance, most of his relationships being only a few weeks long. He had a few flings, on and off, his longest having been a wonderful woman named Robin. She was elusive and intelligent, and their threesome’s were delightful. She had suggested he try men.

He didn’t find peace in people. He found them filled with drama and trouble. He didn’t seek solace in relying on someone else. He did what he wanted when he wanted. An outcast of sorts.

He checks his phone in his pocket. He has a few missed calls from Luffy, a selfie of them from Usopp. A text from Rhys in the inner circle group chat stating they were leaving and his work here was sufficient, with an eye roll emoji from Feyre in response.

He shoots out a simple message to both his friend groups before dropping the phone back in his pocket. ‘Anyone still here?’

His mind drifts back to his encounter earlier. The flushed cheeks, the way Sanji looked disheveled and sad. The way his ears burned crimson. The sadness that pooled in his eyes.

When Zoro had started sleeping with men, most were one night stands. He’d sleep with any man that came his way, mostly at bars. He would always leave after, never spending the night. Robin had been right about a lot of things, including his type. Pretty boys. Tall, flexible, blonde.

The breeze makes him shiver.

His phone pings.

‘I’m helping Sanji with his gf’s crying friend.’

Usopp was always kind, so he didn’t expect anything different. He reads the text again. Sanji is still here.

‘A professional.’

‘Just a good samaritan.’ Usopp texts back a saluting emoji, and he laughs.

Zoro doesn’t want a relationship. He doesn’t want to help people with crying friends.

He knows better than to get his hopes up. The small encounter had been nothing more than a drunken conversation while Sanji took a smoke break. They have nothing in common besides their shared literary project and flatmates. He knows nothing about Sanji, besides that he drives him wild.

He wants to be alone. Sanji just happens to be his type, and he wants to fuck. He’ll need to seek someone out soon.

A few of the stars twinkle in the sky, and he watches them, fixated. It is a beautiful night to waste at this party. He has overstayed his welcome, and decides to walk home. It’s only a mile outside the university borders, and the sky can guide his way.

Zoro hates parties.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Sanji

His hangover proves to be less severe than he thought. He pads into the common area of the flat, expecting everyone to be in their respective rooms, trashed.

The night turned out messy in the end. He grimaces, thinking of the drama that unfolded with Nami’s new friend Nesta. They had spent the night calming her down from a drunken encounter, and she had been a blubbering mess. Luckily, her tears had kept Nami from jumping his bones. He’s smoked his entire pack of cigarettes on the walk home and definitely needs to get more before they work on their literature project today.

He’s hoping to make everyone pancakes and eggs, buffet style for the hangovers as his flatmate’s wake. He loves to cook for others, to help in any way he can.

He is surprised to find a gorgeous blonde on the couch. She is the right kind of sturdy, with perfect curves. She lounges casually, headphones over her ears with only one of Ace’s white t-shirts on. Her braid is falling apart on top of her head.

“So sorry mademoiselle! I’m just headed to prepare breakfast for the drunken bastards here.” He bows. “I don’t think we’ve properly introduced ourselves.”

She laughs, removing her headphones and offering her hand. “I see chivalry isn’t dead. I’m Mor. I’d love to help.”

“Sanji.” He bows again, enamored with her beauty. He recognizes the name. “Did Zoro bring you back here?”

“Actually…. I’m waiting for Ace.” Her eyes sparkle. “And your apartment is so much nicer than mine.”

He nods. Duh. The two had disappeared together last night, passing by him while assisting Nami’s crying friend.

He heads around to the kitchen and she follows, peeking her head into the refrigerator and retrieving ingredients as he does from the pantry. Eggs, butter, milk, flour, fruit, bacon.

He begins cooking and she sits up on the empty countertop space. She’s cocky, lacking any anxiety in her behavior. He’s envious of that.

“Tell me about yourself.”

He whisks the eggs with some fluffy milk, adding salt and pepper. He offers simple information. “I like to cook.”

“What else?”

“Uhhh… I’m studying business.”

“No, like… do you have a girlfriend?” She purses her lips together and kicks her feet softly.

“I do.”

“Really? I perceived you wrong then, and I’m rarely wrong.”

“I’m sorry?” He dumps the egg into the pan, letting it fry while he makes and mixes the batter. He needs tons of pancakes to feed upward seven people, especially when one has an empty stomach and a
never ending appetite.

“I figured you’d have a boyfriend.”

He nearly drops the bowl. “I’m sorry, I.. I don’t follow.”

“You're just-” she pauses for dramatic effect and moves her hands in a witch-like motion. “-

giving

boyfriend! I figured maybe you were bisexual.”

His eyebrows rise and then fall.
He smells the weed first, and then Ace’s laughter fills the room. “He most definitely is.”

Sanji flips a pancake and moves his gigantic bowl of scrambled eggs to the side. He narrows his eyes. Did Ace tell her prior? There’s no way she figured out he was bisexual through this interaction alone.

“He is! So I am right!” Mor high fives Ace and jumps down from the counter, throwing herself around him. He kisses her cheek casually, her arms draped around him. They so casually touch one another, even though their relationship is new. They have a freeness to them, a wild energy. She looks at his face and he looks back at her.

Sanji was right, Ace is capable of love.

Ace has never been forced to act a certain way. He’s never had his life carefully plotted for him, and it shows. Sanji tries not to project his own misery onto their relationship.

Jealousy is a disease.

“I’ll carry some of the ready food to the table,” Ace says. The shouts for food can be heard from the hallway. “The boys are starting to rise.”

“Have you explored your bisexuality?” Mor probes again.

“I have, madam, and I can assure you I prefer the woman form.”

Her fingers mess with her braid, but her eyes pierce into his soul. Her smirk rivals Nami’s. “They call me the truth-teller, and I can assure you that’s not true.”

Sanji finishes off the batter and works on more. He ignores the creepy stares and invasive questioning from her as he works. It doesn’t take long for an entire feast to be ready across the table - pancakes, toppings, eggs, bacon. More than enough to cure a hangover. He leaves the coffee on the stove.

The front door opens and Zoro walks in. In the same clothes as last night, leaves stuck in his hair. Sanji raises an eyebrow. “Just getting home?”

“Got fucking lost, it’s like they dug up the roads or something.”

“Right… so you got lost.”

“I didn’t get lost.”

“Directionless moss.”

“Fuck off, swirly.”

Mor snorts, causing him to whip his head around. Her eyes sparkle with the delight of being correct. She holds her chin high, asserting her dominance. She won this round.

She

won

this round.

Zoro

Today, the library is dead silent. He attributes the silence to the lack of patrons. A majority of the school attended Nami’s sorority party.

He almost feels bad talking in hushed volumes.

“We need at least a topic to research,” Sanji groans. His laptop is open to a blank page. “If we can come up with a topic, we can look for books and stories to fit.”

“I thought the topic was romance?”

Zoro wants to strangle Ace. He had walked into the study session late, both stoned and cocky. His neck is covered in hickeys, a harsh reminder of the relationship with Mor. He is also being useless, uttering comments that have done nothing for the progress of their project.

The conflicting feelings from last night still hound Zoro’s thoughts. He knows Ace and Mor are grown adults, but he can not help but worry Rhys would grow overprotective and blame him for their introduction. Rhys treats Mor like a fragile little sister, when in reality, she is the exact opposite. Ace has been a playboy in the past, and it’s likely he will grow bored and find someone else.

He also finds himself lonely. Ace is his wingman. If his three main friends are all in relationships, he is likely to get left out again and again. He is likely to spend more and more time training by himself, alone with nothing more than the gym and his thoughts.

Relationships are complicated.

“What if we analyze historical romances? Historical fiction about monarchy? Kings fought about women all the time.”

“Mmm,” Sanji taps his pencil against his lips. Zoro swallows, pretending he isn’t staring. Pretending he doesn’t want his own lips there. He is tired. No. He is exhausted. Distracted. The project is guaranteed to fail, and he still hasn’t gotten in a workout today.

“Actually, that’s a good idea, moss. What if we compare and contrast modern day romances to historical romances?”

“Arranged relationships.” Ace mutters. He is doodling on a paper, and upon further glances, he is sketching boobs.

“Ace, can you focus, for the love of god.” Zoro runs his hand through his messy hair. He is still finding leaves and twigs from his drunk stroll through the woods.

“Someone’s grumpy.”

“Some of us weren’t getting laid last night.”

Ace shrugs. “You always choose to be alone.”

Zoro breaks his pencil in half easily. “Maybe you shouldn’t be fucking my friend’s cousin?”

“I’d think you were jealous, but I know you’d rather have a man.” Ace laughs.

“Guys,” Sanji’s voice calls out. “Focus. I like the idea of comparing modern day romances to past ideals. We can each find our own short stories. Do we want to do a presentation or a powerpoint?”

Zoro takes one look at Ace and mutters. “Powerpoint.”

“Cool. I’ll make an outline of who does what slide and email it to you. Is there a specific type of content we want to focus on?”

“I thought the specific type was romantic literature,” Ace responds.

“Do you pay attention at all?” Sanji asks.

“Yeah. I do, when it’s important.”

“I like the short story idea,” Zoro offers.

“Why don’t you fuck him?” The question hangs in the air as Ace gestures from him to Sanji, who has turned as red as Zoro feels. “He’s exactly your type.”

“I have to go.” Sanji quickly shuts his laptops and gathers his books. “I’ll email the outline.”

Zoro watches as Sanji essentially runs out of the library, head down and face bright red.

“What the fuck dude?” Every emotion possible is catastrophizing inside of his brain. Anger at Ace, embarrassment at himself, sadness at his rejection, anxiety of being discovered. “You made the person with a brain leave, and we were finally getting somewhere.”

Ace laughs. “Duuude, you’ve got it bad. Somebody had to get the ball rolling.”

“He’s got a fucking girlfriend.”

“Shhhhh!” An old lady librarian hushes them with her finger.

“He probably just went to get off.”

Ace laughs harder and Zoro stands, his own chair clattering backwards on the ground. He’s gotta work off some steam before he murders his friend right here. “We’re gonna fail this class.”

“Won’t be the first time.”

“I’ll see you later.” He too leaves the library, his mind more alive then it’s ever been.

Sanji

“Something happened to you today, kid? You're slicing that vegetable like it’s gonna hurt you.”

Sanji answers with a no and continues chopping the vegetables for today’s stir fry special. He can’t talk about what has him so angry.

“I’m not letting you continue cooking with a nasty attitude,” Head Chef Zeff repeats, getting closer.

Sanji groans and slams the knife down, ripping his apron off. Fine, he’ll go home then. He’ll walk home and stop at the gym. Smoke a few cigarettes.

“Whatever, I’ll leave then.”

“No you are not. It’s expected to be a big dinner rush with this special we got tonight. We're gonna talk, kid.” Zeff holds the kitchen door open, expecting Sanji to follow, so he does. They make their way back to the office.

Zeff’s office is piles of cook books and recipes, as well as discarded newspapers and picture frames of his family. He has a framed picture of him and Sanji on the wall, and Sanji looks at it longingly. His high school self is smiling and happy.

He wasn’t in a relationship then.

The room reeks of tar and tobacco.

“I’m going to sit in this chair.” Zeff plops himself into a big leather chair in the center of the room, and picks up a newspaper. “I am going to sit here, little eggplant, until you tell me what the fuck got you so angry up in that lil’ head of yours. Can’t have you putting anger into food. Good foods made with love and soul.”

“It is just food.”

“I’m not one of your little university friends. You and I both know that’s not true.”

Sanji waits, and Zeff passes him an ashtray. “You can smoke in here, you know that.”

They haven’t had a discussion like this in a long time. When he was younger, Zeff would bring him to the office for talks whenever something was wrong. It was usually family matters, such as his father or sister. When he started dating Nami, he confessed his hatred of her in this very room.

He takes a deep breath. “Everyone thinks I’m bisexual.”

“So?” Zeff pulls out his own cigar. “You’ve been out of that closet for a long time.”

“Ace-”

“I’ve never liked that Ace fellow. He is trouble-trouble. He never puts that cigarette down.
Is he bullying you?”

“There’s this guy and we’re going to fail literature.”

“You gotta start at the beginning, Sanji. You aren’t making much sense.”

He chews on the end of his cigarette, effectively rendering it useless. He drops it into the ashtray.

“There’s another guy, his name is Zoro, and Ace thinks I have a crush on him. We’re all in a project together and Ace thought it would be so funny to insinuate we should fuck!”

Zeff raises his eyebrows in confusion. “So what’s the problem?”

He stays silent.

“Do you have a crush on him?”

Sanji looks away, towards the window. “I’m with Nami.”

“We both know that relationship is a bunch of hogwash set up by that idiot father of yours. I don’t know how someone with so much money could be so dumb.”

“I don’t know what I think.”

Zeff laughs a hearty laugh. His belly shakes. It feels like eternity before his laughter tapers off.

“Little eggplant,” he says. His face is a jolly red, but his eyes are sincere. “People are always going to make jokes. You just have to let them roll off your back. I know I have. I’m sure in some type of fucked up way your friend was trying to help. He probably sees how miserable Nami makes you.”

“I have to stay with her. It’s part of the big plan for the future that’s important to my family.”

“What about you? What do you want?”

He bites his lip and thinks. What does he want? He wants a shot with Zoro to find out what the weird attractionis. The weird invisible string seemingly binding them together. He wants to take cooking classes and learn about nutrition. He wants everyone to be happy. He wants to stay far away from Reiju and his fucking family-

“Eggplant?”

“I have a lot to think about.”

“Well good. You wanna be on server duty tonight? We have the space and then you won’t be channeling that emotion into food. We got some new wines, I know you love hearing what people choose as their pairings.”

He resigns to acceptance, grateful for Zeff’s patience with him on the bad days. And he does love pouring a brand new bottle of wine.

Cassian

.

He will fix it tonight.

Their hands intertwine perfectly as he leads Nesta in the restaurant, The Baratie.

When asked for a date night, he had selected the highest rated restaurant in the immediate area. He needs the date to go well as an apology for his drunken mistakes. They still had not discussed the misleading advances, and Cassian finds he prefers it that way. He is not even sure where the current status of their relationship stands.

The beginning of their relationship was filled with passion. Nesta had been a desirable queen bee. She was spoiled, and self-centered, but this charming passion flowed from her eyes. He watched the silver flames dance in her irises on their nights together. Her eyes used to be beautiful.

He steals a shy glance at her face, and her eyes do not dance. Shining back at him are black eyes colder than the winter night sky. Cassian’s wishes he could understand what emotions she is dealing with, but Nesta remains a closed book. He wonders if everyone else sees it too.

If Cassian’s the only one who sees her coal eyes, then the relationship has run its course. His heart breaks a little, but he ignores the feeling.

Their hands are intertwined lightly, and he rubs his hands along the fabric of her glove. She stifles a giggle.

Nesta is good at playing the part. Her signature style is a combination of ridiculous, classy, and mischievous. The black gloves she wears go up her arms, contrasting against the white slinky dress that stops right above her knees. Rings frame every finger. Her hair is tucked into a bun, being held in place with chopsticks. Her style is weird, one of her initial attractions. She is different.

He isn’t sure if he loves or hates the ‘different.’

“Feyre’s sister is too different,” Rhys had warned him the first time they’d ever met. “Complicated always goes hand in hand with those

different

girls.”

Cassian had not considered that warning, and pursued her anyway.

They reach the host stand, where a man with a large nose asks for their name. Cassian tries to play the part of the leading man. Tonight, he will get his redemption.

“Reservation for two.”

The host does not look amused. “Name?”

“Cassian Illyrian.”

“This way.” The host smiles at them and bows to Nesta.

They make their way down the padded ornamental carpet, past large tables onto smaller tables that line the windows. The curtains are dark red, but enough light flutters in from the harbor. The tablecloths are the perfect shade of off white, and a rose sits in the center of each table. The tables are set with cloth napkins, multiple forks, and porcelain plates.

He hesitates at the multiple forks, as he can already hear her patronizing voice.

Etiquette.

Something Nesta is trained in, but Cassian’s complicated family did not bother to indulge in.

They are always too busy arguing over old infidelity.

Nesta’s eyes move as she takes in the scene in front of her. She seems pleased, a light smile taking her face and causing small, cute dimples. He smiles in return.

Passion. They are lacking passion. His cheap shot at sex wasn’t passionate, it was driven by pure testosterone.

They sit as the host casually fills the glasses with water, and leaves the glass pitcher on their table. The menus graze their hands: hard, leather bound books with engraved writing, cardboard pages filled with chef specials and wines. He stares at the endless menu.

“The waiter will be with you soon.”

“Thank you,” she smiles, but the smile still doesn’t meet her eyes.

Those cold, sad eyes.

“Hello mademoiselle and…” Sanji stops mid sentence, nearly dropping the tray in his hands. His eyes gaze at Cassian and he visibly gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing. He holds up his hand and his tray in surrender, waiving an innocence. His posture, which had been utterly confident and flourishing seconds before, diminishes to a hunch.

Cassian can feel his fear.

“I can explain.”

He looks Sanji up and down. The rich roommate with a hot girlfriend has a job?

Nesta, as quiet as she is, is a smart cunning girl. She stares at him, her eyes of coal flickering up and down. “Your family suddenly broke?”

“No, No, I- I…”

“You like cooking.” Cassian means to ask a question, but it comes out as a statement. “Ace said so.”

“I am one of the chefs here, but sometimes the old man puts me on waiter duty…. like today.”

Cassian watches as Nesta smiles fondly. She seems to like Sanji. Sure, as Nami is his girlfriend and that’s her new best friend. Their eyes meet each other, as if sharing secrets, and Cassian suddenly feels lonely.

“Can you promise not to tell a soul?”

Cassian nods, making a small X over his heart with his finger. Nesta laughs, her eyes still connected with Sanji. She slowly turns her head and looks away.

“Well, what do you recommend, head chef Sanji?”

A blush warms his face as he swoons. “Well my gorgeous dear, we have an excellent rainbow trout that’s in for the season. Specially imported, laid on a bed of our finest rice with seasoned vegetables. I would highly recommend, it’s a delicious feast.”

She closes her menu and nods, their eyes still speaking. Cassian rolls his own eyes.

“I’ll take the chicken.”

“We have lots of different chicken options-“

“Sanji, the chicken.” Cassian’s eyes glare. He is not jealous, he reminds himself.

There are so many reasons to not be jealous:

(1) He is not positive Sanji is straight, (2) Sanji is locked down with Nami, and (3) Cassian would rather be banging Nami himself…
but the eyes back and forth between his girlfriend and Sanji are downright torturous.

He nods. “I’ll bring you our most popular chicken dish”

He spins around the restaurant, stopping at other tables to refill glasses and swoon over patrons. He is light on his feet, easy with his tray, and his recommendations are tailored to the pallet as he’s a trained chef. Cassian is slightly envious of that passion, but knows it will be taken away oh so soon.

“So,” Nesta swirls her glass. She doesn’t meet his eyes. “I’ve been thinking…”

“I didn’t mean to do it the other night.” Cassian begins. What the hell is he doing? “I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I… I love you.”

He chokes over the words, but she seems unknowing.

He does not want to be with Nesta. There are so many problems, and their communication ceases to exist. At the same time, she’s comfortable. Familiar. Known. His apparent fear of being alone reeks of desperation.

“I love you too.” Her response is void of emotion.

“I want us to… get better.” Cassian feels like he’s using Rhys’ manipulation.

“I just need you to be more attentive to me. To my feelings,” she says.

“I can do that.”

Nesta drags her fork around the plate. “That means no pressuring me for sex either.”

“It was never meant to be pressuring… I’ll never do it again. You used to love our sexual encounters.”

“I don’t feel desired.”

“What can I do to change that?”

Sanji delivers their food, refills their glasses, and checks in swiftly, barely interrupting their conversation.

He finds another table and spins around, giving them a talk about the French champagne they’ve ordered. Cassian watches, drowning out Nesta’s conversation. Sanji is an attentive waiter, he imagines how he reacts to someone he’s interested in…

Feelings. Understanding her. Listening, he doesn’t listen. That’s where she’s wrong - Cassian is listening right now.

“I hear you babe,” he returns his attention to her.

“All the little gestures, not just holding my hand and letting go the second your friends are around.” She stuffs fish in her mouth using a particular fork, but they all look the same to Cassian. She must notice his confusion, because she points to one with her own. He obliges. “You have to make me feel desirable.”

“Tell me how, and I will.”

This obviously is not the right answer.

They continue eating their meal with pleasantries, but not much deep conversation. She does not answer, an expectant and also unreadable look on her face.

Maybe, Cassian thinks, he might be the problem. He is constantly stuck on their past relationship, imagining the unbelievable sex. Nesta’s fire had been palpable, and the two had been inseparable, not caring if their friends caught them in the act. Her emotions ran wild back then; angry, vengeful, sad.

He could picture how it would go down- she would call him all sorts of dirty names and he would return the sentiment. She’d cling to his muscles, drawing her hands down his chest, as he clung to her curves, running his hand along pleasure spots.

He shakes his head to remove the dirty thoughts. He can not handle having a hard-on at the table during a serious date.

Cassian also thinks about the outings they had with their friends back in the day. Though most resulted in Nesta arguing with Feyre or Rhys, the outings were fun.

But, maybe things weren’t as good as he thought. There had been a lot of arguing back then.

She’s droning on about some subject now when Cassian notices the woman waltzing through the door. Her curves are spectacular, her ass amplified by the low cut back and tight hip design. He tries not to ogle her, but her hips beg for desire. He watches as she makes her way around the restaurant.

Tantalizing.

“Cassian!” Her shouts interrupt him. “This is what I mean!”

She throws her napkin on top of her food and collects her purse from her chair. “I can no longer even tell if you're interested in me! I can’t keep doing this anymore.”

He freezes. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“Yes.” She tosses a few folded bills onto the table. “I deserve better. Give my compliments to the chef.”

He watches her walk away.

Some part of him knows he will always be stuck at this scene in the restaurant. He’ll always remember what it feels like to watch his comfort and familiarity walk away from him. The memories of watching the love of his life walk away will haunt him.

Some part of him feels relief. It’s an itch he can not scratch.

Sanji’s at his side next, having seen the scene and cleaning her spot on the table. He doesn’t make any mention of it.

“Promise you won’t tell anyone about my job here?”

“Won’t tell a soul.” Cassian locks his jaw as he runs through the complicated emotions.

Sanji works at cleaning the dishes in front of him, as Cassian remains frozen.

“It’s really over, huh?”

“It appears so, my friend.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Sanji

He is on edge the minute he comes back from work. He kicks a shoe off in the doorway, a small attempt to ignore the guilt creeping up his stomach. He isn’t sure he can trust Cassian or Nesta. He figures he’ll try to find some guy time with Cassian, build a rapport, and get him to keep his secrets. The thought just barely silences his mind.

His eyes jump over to the couch where a plastered Zoro, Ace, and Usopp sit. Multiple 24-pack boxes scatter the room, and he is pretty sure Ace is half asleep with a lit blunt in his hand. He takes a few moments to bask in the glory of a frat boy’s apartment - something he has never experienced before.

He drinks in the men before him. Usopp is shirtless, and in this light, he is awfully attractive. He is skinny, with muscles poking through his lean figure. Ace is the same playboy as always, and Zoro is… Zoro.

Overgrown moss.

He kicks his second shoe with a bit of force, attracting the attention of the three men. Zoro’s eyes flicker up, the light catching them just enough to show his potential interest.

Sanji clears his throat. Yikes. He feels like a prey animal caught under Zoro’s stare. The guilt from the secret restaurant work rises in his throat.

“Come sit, blondie.” His husky voice is almost a growl, and Sanji prays that his heart will not bleed out right here.

Play it cool and collective,

he reminds himself.
He smiles at them while his emotions jumble inside themselves.

“Beer?” Usopp smiles at him, reaching deep inside another almost empty beer box. He pulls out a can and haphazardly tosses it in Sanji’s direction, rendering the beer useless. He accepts it, but he’s not dumb enough to open it.

He has two options for seating- on the floor against the coffee table, directly adjacent to Usopp, or next to Zoro on the couch, almost cuddled between him. He must take too long, because Zoro’s voice, still growl-like, mutters, “I do not bite.”

He takes a seat, his body inches from Zoro. His face flushes, and he awkwardly sits the can on the coffee table. He attempts to fiddle with his hands, but it only adds to the awkwardness. He feels pinned under Zoro’s stare, unable to escape.

The giggling erupts his thoughts, and he turns to stare at Ace, who’s giggling manically while holding the now burnt-out joint.

“What’s so funny?” Usopp asks, crashing a can in his hand and tossing it to the side. He makes it into a beer box. “SCORE!”

Sanji looks anywhere but the man to his side. He looks at Usopp, and watches as he doodles in a sketchbook, his body bent over the coffee table.

“We should get to know each other better,” Usopp offers.

“We could play a drinking game,” Zoro responds, crushing his own can and reaching for another.

“I think Ace is far too gone for that.”

Zoro shrugs. “Prolly.”

Sanji’s heart beats so fast it threatens to claw its way out of the confinement of his chest. He breathes in, his heart reverberating in his throat. Zoro radiates warmth and Sanji’s brain is begging to bask in it.

He finds comfort in knowing Usopp. They are friends. They both assisted Nesta after her poor drunken encounter of sex with her boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. He trains his brain to focus on him. “What are you drawing?”

“Man, I have no idea. They put me in this second-level drawing class, and apparently we’ll have nude models soon. I’m not sure how that has to do with engineering.”

“Me either,” Sanji reluctantly responds. “Just like literature! What does that have to do with business?”

“Or personal training.” Zoro snorts. “I wish I could skip all these general education classes. It’d make my life so much easier.”

“You almost did skip on the first day,” Sanji jokingly pokes at him.

“Yeah yeah, at least I haven’t failed multiple times!”

The bite at Ace does nothing to arouse the man. Zoro snakes his arm around Sanji and hits Ace hard on the arm. He drops the blunt, but wakes slowly. “The fuck, man?”

Sanji watches as Ace takes a few sips of his open beer, not really speaking to anyone. His eyes are not open much wider than slits, but he stares at Sanji and Zoro.

Usopp’s attention has turned to the TV, and he’s flickering through inputs trying to get a game to load. “Wanna play?”

He passes a controller to Zoro, who grunts his amusement. Sanji declines, feigning he has homework to do. He hopes Cassian will come home soon, he wants to chat and discuss everything that happened.

The game is boring, and he’s never found much interest in Grand Theft Auto. He finds himself talking about a dumb class he’s stuck in, astrology, while Zoro and Usopp battle it out in the game. He’s talking about the self-field trip to the planetarium, where apparently one can lay out under the stars.

“I’ll go with you,” Zoro offers, catching Sanji by surprise, as it is the first words he spoke since the game began. “I mean, if you want.”

“I think… I’d like that.” He scratches the back of his head as he stumbles over his words. He is absorbed in the moment, completely unaware of everyone but Zoro.

There is an emotion in his eyes that Sanji can’t make out.

The crash of the front door closing has him nearly jumping out of his skin.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Cassian’s home.

Sanji fumbles as he stands, the guilt pressing back into the pit of his stomach. “Can we talk?”

“Sure,” he sneers at Zoro, “Blondie.”

“Do you guys mind?”

“Not at all.” Usopp takes two looks at Cassian and scaredly ushers the rest of his friends to the kitchen.

Zoro

“It’s different this time!” Zoro nearly snarls, slamming down his beer can and looking at the arrogant looks on his friend's face.

Ace’s damn all-knowing smirk eats at his nerves. Usopp's face feigns innocence, but he has always been a terrible liar. Somebody in the house has obviously filled him in.

“You do this every time! Always so shy.” Ace teases.”I’m shocked you even offered to join him.”

“I’m surprised you even heard that, as knocked out as you were.”

The kitchen table suddenly feels heavy beneath his hands as he looks down.

“He’s just some dude-“

“That we live with-“

“Just tell him you are interested-”

“He has a girlfriend.”

Ace snorts, throwing back his own beer can before crushing it and tossing to the floor. The clean up is a problem for later. “Who says it has to be romantic?”

Usopp breaks into laughter. “Man, have you seen him? He’s head over heels. How could it not be romantic?”

Zoro snarls again, ready to bare his teeth at either of them. He understands their sentiment, he does, but he wishes they both weren’t such nosy fuckers with a petulance for interupting his lover life.

There’s a little part of Zoro that hates Ace sometimes. Like right now, when he is not sure why he stays friends with the motherfucker. He feels the vein above his eyebrow twitching. “I think you are too crossfaded to understand.”

Ace’s eyes are sewn into tight little lines from the amount of marijuana he essentially inhaled before the drinking started. Even with his eyelids almost closed, Zoro can feel the eyes sending flames into his soul.

“No. I’m not.” Ace wields the tightness in his voice like a weapon. “Stop trying to blame my bad habits on your social inabilities.”

Zoro doesn’t answer. He cracks another can open, chugging over half the beer at once.

Usopp nervously does the same.

“Cassian could be fucking Sanji in the living room for all we know.”

Yeah, he definitely hates Ace right now.

They were supposed to be doing homework when the drinking began. A scheduled homework session that includes their flatmates. Luffy had fallen asleep early, Cassian was on a fancy dinner date and politely declined the invite, and Sanji canceled at the last minute with a simple text about his family’s business having an emergency. Zoro still didn’t buy the excuse, and had been miserable about it until the drinks came along.

If he knew Sanji better, if they had been better friends, he probably would have pushed harder. Asked what was wrong, if he could help.

The current beers are being provided by a 24 pack Usopp found in the fridge, and the count is dwindling quickly. The rest reside in the living room, where Cassian and Sanji were having their

private

conversation.

Zoro didn’t know Sanji at all beyond a few exchanges as roommates and classmates. He plans to change that, starting with the planetarium outing.

“Dude what’s stopping you?” Ace’s movements are exaggerated. His tight abs flex as he tips the chair back reflexively.

In another universe, Zoro would find Ace attractive. There’s no denying his attitude and his charismatic charm, coupled with a great body.

“You used to be such a playboy.” Ace giggles, tossing yet another beer can to the floor. “I remember when we met, you hit on me!”

“Did not.”

“I remember it, you sure did. I told you I didn’t swing that way at the time.”

He shrugs, knowing Ace is right, and he has no return argument. But that was back when Zoro would shoot his shot with anything that walked.

And Sanji was not just anything. His blue eyes tormented Zoro’s soul daily.

The puzzled look shot in his direction from Usopp is enough for him to know Ace is right.

“Can we just see how the planetarium date goes first?”

“You never know, it might spark true love,”
Usopp laughs.

Zoro snorts. “You believe in true love?”

Ace reaches into the 24-pack, only to discover the beer is gone. He opens the fridge and tosses a few loose cans to his friends.

The conversation causes them to lose track of time, focusing on the cigarette dancing through the air. Usopp goes on about some girl back in his hometown, named Kaya, and how he is her soulmate and some other nonsense. His stories are always preposterous in nature. Zoro listens, but his consciousness is slipping. He strains to hear the conversation in the common room, but they’re words are silent, almost obsolete.

“You know what I mean?” Usopp finally stops.

Much to Zoro’s chagrin, Ace nods. “Yeah, I get that feeling with Mor sometimes.”

“You think

you

love her?” Usopp’s accusations of character hang in the air.

Zoro flutters his eyes back to his friends, using his better sighted eye to try and determine if what he just heard is reality.

The kitchen door opens, and Sanji wanders him.

“Everything good?”

“Yeah, Cassian left for the night. He said he had some unfinished business, but he’d see you in the morning.”

“Oh, he’s probably gettin’ some, Nesta’s a wild one.”

Sanji opens his mouth, as if he’s about to object, but then slams his mouth shut. He actively avoids the stares of the group, and shuffles out the room.

“I’m callin the night,” Zoro stumbles out of the chair. He’s exhausted, and seeing Sanji only made him feel worse about the crush harboring in his chest. He didn’t even want to do homework together, why would he ever consider their friendship as something more?

Cassian

Cassian clutches the phone right to his ear. He grumbles into it purposefully, listening to the words being drawn out on the other side.

Nami’s high-pitched voice nearly curls into the phone on the other end, and he can hear the temptation dripping from her tongue. He nearly absolves himself right there. Curiosity continues to get the better of him, as he is unable to end the call.

“What do you mean, single?”

He tries to re-evaluate how this call began: a simple question about the group project evolving into small talk bordering flirtatious behavior.

The temptation continues to pour off her tongue as she speaks to him. He feels the warmth pooling from his stomach to his crotch, the blood draining from his brain as his pants become tight.

When did he become such a heinous man? The thought peruses his brain as he considers the repercussions of his actions. He is luring a taken woman to his bedside for his own satisfaction - ignoring the fact that said woman is his roommate’s girlfriend.

He is supposed to consider Sanji a

friend

.

Hell be damned.

Cassian is probably going there anyway.

He relays the break-up conversation to Nami, careful to leave out details, such as him forcing himself upon Nesta, causing her agony and distress. He leaves out that Nesta has lost herself in a pit of depression, and how their relationship had lost all emotion.

All passion.

He can hear her mouth close, and before she clicks off,
she whispers with a seductive tone, “Meet me in the Janitor’s closet at 3:15.”

The Janitor’s closet in the right wing of the University is known as the hook-up spot, used mostly during late-night hours by students with multiple beds per room. There are no-known cameras, and the back door to the right wing is always left unlocked.

He glances at the clock on his bedside table. He has got three hours and a pulsating cock.

He is about to toss the phone to the side when he sees a snapchat notification come through, so he quickly snatches the phone up again. He stares at it, watching as a video of Nami’s nude body, though slightly blurry and poor quality, streams through his phone screen. He nearly cums from the video alone.

His cock is pressed so tightly against his jeans he wants to scream, so he releases the pressure by unzipping the jeans and shimmying out of them. He runs his hand down his black boxers onto his cock, strumming away. He imagines how she will feel, her small tight lips pressed up against his length.

A few more sad jerks, and he orgasms, watching again as the snapchat video replays on his phone.

Fuck man. He’s got it bad.

He eventually redresses, making his way from his room to the common area of the house, none of the roommates wiser to his future plans to cheat with someone else’s girl.

He should feel bad. He should. Maybe, he would feel bad if Sanji even showed the slightest interest in Nami. He would feel bad if he hadn’t seen Sanji curled up against Zoro last night, his intoxicating blue eyes filled with happiness. Contentment.

Cassian knows he is looking for excuses to justify his actions. No one deserves the person he is becoming.

His phone rings, startling him from his thoughts, and he nearly slams it on the counter out of frustration, when he sees the name on his caller ID:
Rhysand.

He groans.

Rhysand is his best friend. They have been best friends for years. It’s hard to deny their formidable bond; especially after spending so many years in school together. Rhys has rescued him from countless bullies over their middle and high-school years. His mother’s infidelity gave them constant ammunition with him as the sole target. She would sleep with anything and anyone.

He smirks to himself, wondering if sexual libido is genetic.

“What?”

“Well good afternoon to you, too.” Rhys’ voice is harsh, more agitated than high-spirited. Cassian knows he is playing with fire, but right now-

“Upset about the break-up?”

“No.”

“Your tone of voice says otherwise.”

Cassian levels his thoughts, breathing in and out deeply to steady the rage that's climbing up his throat. He does not want to argue with Rhys,

hell

, he has no reason to even be upset with him. It’s not his best friend’s fault he’s on a flippant rampage and has an unnecessary desire to fuck a red-head that belongs to someone else.

He doesn’t respond, and Rhys must sense the apprehension, because a few moments of silence pass before he continues.

“Nesta called Feyre pretty upset last night.”

“Okay?”

“I think she wanted the relationship to work out, but… well, you know. Nesta needs help.”

Cassian doesn’t respond. He throws open the fridge and finds a milk carton, taking a large swig out of the almost empty jug. He chugs again, tossing the carton towards the trash can, where it ricochets back and falls to the floor. He wipes the milk-drool off his face across his black shirt.

“Her bipolar disorder, as well as drinking habits, have become errant. I have a suspicion that her mental health is so poor it’s affecting everything. Her relationship, friendships, school, work…”

“Nesta doesn’t have a job.” He can feel the line forming across his face, his smile translucent.

“Precisely.” Cassian knows Rhys is sharply witted, and most likely to win whatever argument he tries to bring up. “She would do well with a job, and we are going to work on getting her more acquainted with society.”

“Mm,” he mumbles, leaning his body against the countertop, waiting for whatever ploy this is to finish.

“Ever since their dad died, Feyre and Nesta have been a mess.”

“Dude, No. I’m sorry but Nesta hated her father, she only ever spoke ill-”

“Quite the contrary my friend. I think she loved him so much that she almost despised him.”

There is a lot of silence that passes between them, and Cassian is tempted to hang up when Rhysand finally speaks. “Man, come on over tonight. I think it would be good for you to be with us again. Maybe you're spending too much time with those new roommates?”

“‘Cuse me?” he nearly mumbles curses as Rhysand, but maybe he’s right. His new roommates are eccentric, odd. One has a massive appetite and falls asleep everywhere, his older brother is constantly high as a kite, one has green hair, and one is a pathological liar. Sure, they have many many good qualities, but those are their outlandish ones, that will put a tax on anyone’s mental state.

“Plus,” Rhysand continues, ignoring his interruption as usual, “Nesta would love to see you again. I think she knows she made a mistake.”

“Ok.”

He hears Feyre shout out in delight, and he groans. He would do anything for Feyre and for Rhysand, and they both know it. As much as he doesn’t want to be around Nesta, he can’t ignore the invitation of his oldest friend. Their alliance, his loyalty and allegiance to Rhysand is unfortunately how they have always operated, and Cassian does not foresee that behavior changing anytime soon.

They hang up the call with not much else discussed, and Cassian finds himself floating back towards his bedroom, high on the idea of sex. Nami agreed, and he can’t believe the luck he’s found himself in. She’s willing to meet in the janitor's closet to test their compatibility, see if there is truly anything between them, and he is delighted. Full of ecstasy.

Horny

.

His cock twitches again as he turns open the room to his flat. Nami.

She’s perfect. Ginger tresses that hang down to her excellent curve of her waist, large, perfectly symmetrical breasts that bounce as she moves, a tattoo on her shoulder representing a history he hasn’t had the chance to ask about, and those long, long legs.

Man. He can’t wait.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Cassian

The janitor’s closet is dark when she grabs his hand and pulls him inside, immediately pressing him against the wall as her lips close against his. Her mouth is small in contrast to his, but her small, cold hands press against his jawline as she pulls his face close to hers. Their lips meet, and he feels the sparks. He barely has time to comprehend the darkness of the room coupled with the faint smell of cleaning supplies and mold. She pushes him forcefully against the wall, him stumbling so hard that the shelves rock as they do so.

He’ll be damned, they aren't even going to discuss the ramifications of these actions.

Soon, the sensations overwhelm him. Her kisses are hard and forceful, as she controls the movement of their mouth, her teeth biting hard into his lower lip. He moans, her body close to his, and he circles his hips, invoking a pleasurable noise from her own throat. Her eyes flicker open, and he’s suddenly caught under the intensifying stare from her copper brown eyes.

“You are really single?” She says, removing her hands from his face and tracing up and down his muscular chest. Her touch burns at him, his body aching with desire.

“Yup.”

She smirks.

He isn’t sure how he got here, but he knows one thing, he is not a good man, and she is not a good woman.

He shifts his weight, catching her off balance and turning them, so she is now pressed against the wall. She giggles with fear, adrenaline and excitement concocting through her muscles. He pins her down, holding her hands as he swoops in, his tongue painting against her neck and up to her ear, where he breathes deeply.

“I want to fuck you so bad.”

She moans, her eyes flicking away before catching him with a stare that mimics I dare you. He leans in to kiss her lips, and they meet, the sparks flying again. He releases her wrist and watches as she tosses her small tank over her head, her boobs bouncing out.

He can’t help but stare. Her abs are perfectly chiseled, her small waist is an hourglass form leading down to her hips, where her jeans sit and her thong sneaks out. She looks like she came out of a pin-up magazine. He almost drools.

“‘Wow… you’re perfect.”

A blush tints her cheeks, but soon disappears as a ferociousness takes over her eyes. “Touch me,” she murmurs.

He does as she pleases, rubbing against her jeans, his one hand grinding against her cunt as she moans. He rubs in a teasing manner, but her hips begin to grind, full on against his hand. He stops moving, letting her tease herself as she pleases. His other hand is twisting one of her nipples softly, ever so often a slight pinch that invokes a squeak from her. He moves both hands to slide his top off, and then, because he’s antsy and desperate, he pushes his own jeans off too.

He watches as she stares at his boxers and then immediately uses her hands to pull out his full length. She squeaks again in surprise at his size, but wraps her hand around it and immediately gets to work.

He uses his hands to push against the wall, propping himself up as she hand-fucks him.

“Nami… ah fuck. Oh my god,” he breathes out. “You're like a goddess.”

“I’m a seductress.”

She moans, as he unzips her own jeans and wiggles his hand in, his finger lining up with her entrance. He teases her, feeling the wetness that has soaked through her panties. His hand is large and her jeans are tight, so he turns his hand slowly, allowing enough room for him to enter.

She moans and murmurs and her voice is wet and hot, sultry even. The unclassiness of the janitor’s closet drifts away as he considers the predicament they are in. Her hands stroke against him again, so he takes this as a sign she’s willing to go further, and slips his one finger inside of her.

She’s tight.

She’s soaked.

He nearly moans himself as he feels her tight pussy vibrating against him, stretching as his one finger works slowly in and out of her.

“Fuck, oh my god fuck, please, please, harder,” she whispers.

He does as she demands, slipping another finger inside of her and increasing his pace, until she is nearly shaking. His hand is constricted inside the jeans, so he pulls on them with his free hand, and she does the honors, snaking herself out of them with his hands inside of her.

Fuck. He’s so hard, but his length is long, and he imagines he will struggle with getting inside of her without lube. She’s wet wet, dripping even, so he’s willing to try.

She fiddles with her jeans, and retrieves a condom. He works quickly to put it on, wasting no time at all as she bombards his neck area with kisses and hickeys, sucking and biting so hard he is sure she will break the skin. He moans and snarls at her, letting her know his delight for the pain is well-received.

She bites so hard on his nipple he nearly loses it right then and there, holding his dick tight to remind himself he still needs to fuck her.

How in the HELL did he end up here with the absolute most perfect girl for him?

Condom on, he lines himself up with her entrance and pushes his harder against the wall. She grimaces slightly and looks away as he pushes harder, feeling how tight she is as inch by inch he makes his way inside. She’s still looking away, biting her own bottom lip…

“We can stop if you want,” he offers, seeing the confused look on her face, which quickly retorts to resentment.

“You better fucking not.” She groans. “Keep going.. It will feel good eventually.”

So he abides by her rules, pushing himself deeper and deeper, slowly in and out as shockwaves of ecstasy pulsate in his own dick. He mentally reminds himself to keep his stamina and not give in, when finally he sees a look of pleasure overcome her face.

“Right there.”

He grinds harder against her, using one hand to push against the wall and one to play with her clit, slowly rubbing in a circular pattern as his dick moves in and out of her. She nearly screams, quickly muffling her own moans as the pleasure overtakes her. He’s moving in and out fast and hard before he knows it, her tight pussy gripping around his cock.

“You have to be quiet,” he reminds her, holding in his own moans.

“I’m about to cum,” he tells her, and she nods, biting down on her lip as moans still escape her. She’s so wet he’s sliding easily in and out, and she’s grinding hard against him, her legs shaking as she moans.

“Cassian-” her voice is like a purr, and it’s the first time she has acknowledged him by name.

He pulls out just in time, his white seed filling the condom provided, and he watches as her own juices escape down her legs. She looks slightly embarrassed, but the passion in her eyes is unrivaled, unmatched.

She pants, and the primal urges in him find it hot. “I think… that was the best sex I ever had.”

He meets her eyes, searching for lies and deceit, but finds none. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She holds his stare as he crouches down, moving his tongue up and down her thighs to her crotch, lapping up the juices she left behind from her own orgasm. She moans again and rocks her own body until he finishes, and her eyes meet his with a potent look behind them.

An awkwardness overcomes the room as they both catch their breath and refuse to meet each other's eyes, an acknowledgement of what they have done. She retrieves her clothes and through shaky breaths pulls them on.

“I guess…” she says, her hands working through her absolute mess of hair, wiping the red lipstick off the side of her face. “I guess I’ll see you at the study session.”

She attempts to check a small compact mirror in the dark, but it is useless, and he watches as she opens the door and steps into the hallway, leaving him alone, mostly nude, in a janitor's closet by himself. He knows she was a mess, he knows her lipstick was smeared, but he lets her go anyway, the awkwardness and guilt settling in through his stomach.

He just fucked his roommates girlfriend.

The bell rings and a deep restlessness settles in over his chest.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Zoro

The sun is starting to set, and there’s just enough light outside to see the street signs. He knows eventually he’ll cross Love Street, making it out of the urban city to a more rural path.

The irony is lost on him as he walks past the sign.

Zoro’s nerves are strung the entire walk from the university to the planetarium. He walks in silence, knowing they agreed to meet outside. He knows it’s not a date, it’s just two friends working on a homework assignment together, but his brain can’t help but wish for something more.

He barely knows Sanji- but there’s a strange attraction Zoro has never felt before.

He’s late when he arrives at the planetarium due to a few wrong turns, but his worries ease when he sees Sanji. He looks beautiful as always. His hair is clean and oh-so soft, and his blue button down accentuates his beautiful eyes.

Zoro wants him so bad. He can’t even deny it.

“You’re late,” Sanji begins, “But luckily, I figured you’d get lost, so I told you a bit early.”

“I didn’t get lost. The directions were wrong.”

Sanji holds a notebook covered in doodles on the front, well-worn. Paper assignments fill between the pages. He taps a pencil against the cover, before using it to point to a sign.

Zoro feels like he can’t breathe as his roommate continues.

“Looks like the planetarium is showing a short film, The Attraction of Stars. I just have to watch it, take some notes, and write a brief analysis on it.”

Zoro nods, simple enough. All he has to do is behave, accompany Sanji to the film without letting his feelings slip, and help him analyze the content after. Because he’ll totally be able to focus-

“There’s also a small observatory telescope outback. My instructor wants us to record what we see. You of course don’t have to stay…”

“I’d love to.”

They walk towards the entry door and Sanji hands the doorman two complimentary university tickets. They walk side by side through the narrow dark corridor, following the staff member and the crowd into the theater. They are silent, and it’s awkward. He feels Sanji bristle beside him, a reminder they are basically strangers.

“Thanks for.. uhhh..” Sanji pulls on the collar of his shirt. “Thanks for coming with me. I appreciate the company.”

“No problem.”

“Most of the class came in pairs, and a few invited me but Nami didn’t like that. Was going on about what being seen with other girls might insinuate...”

Zoro doesn’t know how to respond.

The theater’s projections are beautiful. The screen through the ceiling is already lit up, an accompaniment of blues and purples filled with stars. They file into the darkness, following the mute lights making a pathway to the chairs. Zoro holds his hand out in a gesture for Sanji to lead the way, and he does. They take their seat in a beat up movie-theater style chair, and recline back.

“This is beautiful,” Sanji whispers, his eyes captured in the ceiling as the film begins. The narrator is interesting, his voice inflicted with emotion, but Zoro can’t tear his eyes away from the true star.

Sanji is enraptured by the film, his eyes watching each star formation and widening when the lore behind them is told. He occasionally scribbles a note, messily, whenever a statistic is mentioned. His eyes are so full with wonder and amusement, his intrigue so passionate. Zoro wants to hold him, be ever so close.

He reaches his arm awkwardly on the arm rest, and their forearms brush together. His nerves tingle, and he feels Sanji stiffen again.

“I can move.”

“No, this is fine,” Sanji responds, pushing their arms closer to each other.

Zoro doesn’t know what to make of his actions.

The screens portray beautiful stars, and the narrator tells stories of mythology and tall tales. He tells the story of seven sisters, one who married a mortal man her godly father disapproves of. Zoro looks over to find Sanji looking at him, and they narrowly make eye contact.

The speaker then goes on to tell his own scientific, yet boring, thoughts on some of these constellations. Their eyes hold each other for a moment again, and then Sanji returns to scribbling in his notebook. The narrator thanks the crowd for coming with some brief words of taking care of our environment, and the lights flicker back on.

“The telescopes are out back,” Sanji gestures, and they follow to a garden terrace where many people - and couples- wait to take a glance. They stand back, amongst each other.

“That was beautiful, but so boring,” Sanji says. He flips through the pages of his notebook. “I really don’t know what to write an analysis on. Mythology? Doesn’t seem relevant to astronomy.”

“You seemed like you were enjoying it,” Zoro responds.

“I enjoyed that it felt like we were on the sea, looking at the stars.” There is a hint of longing and desire in his voice, before he shakes his head and looks away. “All these extra classes are stupid. I don’t understand. They have nothing to do with business or cooking.”

Cooking? Zoro cocks his head, deciding against interrupting the rant. He knows Luffy and Ace rave about Sanji’s cooking, but Luffy would also likely eat food from a trash can if he was hungry enough.

And Zoro never trusts what Ace says about anyone.

“I really want to do more hands-on classes. Like literature? When the hell would I ever use that in real life?”

A large breeze rustles them, and Sanji visibly shivers. Zoro shuffles out of his flannel overshirt, wrapping it around Sanji’s form. Their eyes meet, but no words are spoken. Zoro doesn’t know what to make of that.

He could try and be romantic. He could try and make his intentions clear, but what would that lead to? Heartbreak?

“I agree, this has nothing to do with my education either, but maybe they want us more… educated.” Zoro laughs. “Isn’t that the whole point?”

“Right,” Sanji says, looking up at the stars, a position they seem to find themselves in often. His voice is almost a whisper when he speaks again. “The things I want to do, I don’t need a big fancy education for.”

“And what would that be?”

Zoro doesn’t get a response, as another large observatory telescope opens up. They step up, and Sanji opens his notebook. The platform barely has enough space for them, and they squeeze in together, Zoro pressed against Sanji’s back. He audibly coughs, worried he’s upsetting Sanji, but doesn’t get a response.

Sanji looks through the stars, and his mouth hangs open. “There is so much out there, and here we are… in this one space of earth, and the world is ending because I don’t want to be a business major.”

“The world wouldn’t end,” Zoro begins. “Nobody would hold it against you.”

“Maybe someone polite as you wouldn’t,” Sanji shakes his head, passing the telescope to Zoro, who’s chin is now leaning on Sanji’s shoulder. “But my parents would disown me. Maybe even try to kill me.”

Sanji laughs, but the joke isn’t funny. Zoro doesn’t bother looking at the telescope.

“And Nami,” Sanji continues. “How embarrassing would that be for her.”

“You are not embarrassing,” Zoro says, and blushes. His emotions are hanging on his sleeve and there is a good chance he is going to give away all his feelings. “She’s kind of a bitch.”

The laugh Sanji uses in return is insulting, but Zoro lets him work through his own emotions.

“I’m lucky you are my friend,” Sanji finally answers.

Zoro lulls over that. Friend. They’ve gained a new label in their relationship. It’s not where he wants to be, but it’s something.

Sanji looks at a few more constellations, and they both agree this is the clearest the night sky has been in a while. It’s truly beautiful. Sanji talks about the type of finger food he’d make for a picnic under this night sky, and Zoro holds his tongue from insinuating he’d like to make that picnic date reality.

They finally step back, and decide to walk back to the dorm together. For once, Sanji is clearly not running off to his girlfriend or the other secrets he hides. They fall in synchronized steps, as if they were made to be the same stride.

Zoro hums silently.

“Are you gay?” Sanji whispers, and the question comes out so blatantly, Zoro almost runs off the sidewalk into a tree.

“I mean, yeah. I could swing both ways, but men are preferred.”

“Mor asked me if I was,” Sanji tells him, “after that large party Nami threw.”

“Are you?”

“I don’t think my family would be pleased with my answer.”

“It sounds like they aren’t pleased with anything.”

The night sky is just as beautiful as through the telescopes, but the city light pollution is starting to linger, and the closer they get towards the University, the less likely they are to see the stars.

“I’m probably going to fail astronomy.”

“I doubt it,” Zoro responds. “You were taking good notes.”

Sanji bristles, seeming like he’s living in the last few moments of stars before they cross into the city sidewalk.

“Plus,” Zoro adds, a smirk growing. “We are definitely going to fail literature, and we can’t have you failing two classes.”

They watch as a shooting star goes through the sky. What luck. Zoro closes his eyes, mentally wishing for his dreams to come true.

“I wish,” he says wistfully, after peaceful silence.

“I wish,” Sanji echoes, staring at the sky.

They reach the University, and Sanji seems hesitant to leave Zoro. “I have to see Nami,” he says. “But one day, let me make you a meal.”

Sanji

The phone is ringing for the second time. He stares at it impatiently, watching the ring tone as his father’s name flashes across the screen: JUDGE VINSMOKE.

Sanji hates regularly scheduled check-ins with his father, but he hasn’t had one in a while. His father has been focused on his brothers, who were approaching their later years in college. He was also consumed with Reiju and her desperation to beat that Rhys guy for Student Government’s President position. Apparently, his sister now wanted to be a politician, and his father thought that was grand.

He guesses his best bet is to answer, so when the phone rings for the third time, he hesitantly answers.

“Hello?” Sanji hates how nervous his voice is.

He is in his bedroom, the curtains pulled closed. He couldn’t dare look out at the sidewalks where the unperturbed student body roams, not knowing his inner battles. Nobody knew how much he appreciated the almost-date-like experience he just had, and how he might be falling for - no, no, no. He shakes the thought. Sanji can’t fall for a man. He can’t fall for Zoro.

“Sanji.” His father’s voice is cold, callous, and authoritative. His emotions rarely change. “How is your relationship with Nami?”

“Fine.” Sanji tries not to be bitter.

“I was speaking with her family,” His father’s tone comes across as resentful and Sanji almost conjures up a laugh at the emotion. “Seems she has expressed unhappiness lately.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Sanji tries to explain. He knows it's useless, Judge will believe anyone else before him and is likely to make up his mind without all the facts. “You know she doesn’t share those emotions with me-”

“Her parents seemed to be concerned about your attentiveness.”

Why? Why him? Sanji puts the phone on speaker and haphazardly throws it across the room, desperate to rid the conversation. He sinks into his dirty bed sheets, still in his outfit from the planetarium date… what a nice day and what a perfect way to ruin it.

If a god exists, god is taunting him. God is punishing him for his sins.

“I’ve heard rumors, Sanji.” His father leaves out the exact rumors. “I don’t want to hear them again, understand?”

Sanji is spiraling, and he knows it. He brings his hands up to his hair, running them through each side. He grips the hair tightly and pulls, an anxious reaction he hasn’t had since watching his mother abused.

“Yes,” he breathes out. “Yes, father.”

“I mean it, do you understand? I want you to focus on keeping the relationship with Nami-dearest and your studies. You will inherit the weapons factory and be privy to many relationships. I want no more of these rumors. You should not be doing

anything

else in your free time.”

Sanji does not answer, and his heart skips a beat. At first, he thought Judge was referring to his potential interest in Zoro, but now he’s not so sure. Could he be referring to The Baratie?
To Zeff? Sanji’s mouth goes dry.

“I will go through severe methods to ensure distractions are eliminated if necessary.”

He doesn’t respond, his whole body shaking. He silently dry heaves, hoping his father can’t make out the heavy breathing as he rocks back and forth. Panic attacks are no longer a thing of his past.

“You should be more like your sister. See to it that she wins this student presidency.”

He nods, gulping. He doesn’t care what Reiju wins or what she does. She’s a goddamn bitch and…

“We’ll talk next week, same time.”

The phone clicks off and he lets go of all his sobs. He flips the remaining stuff off his bed. He’ll tidy his books and homework later. He sobs. The books hit the ground with a crash and he sobs. He goes to pull the blanket over his head when he realizes the door is cracked open. He sobs. He hears muffled steps in the hallway, but he doesn’t care.

He knows he is to quit the restaurant. It is now implausible to continue at the restaurant if Judge knows about it. He does not have the confirmation, but there’s no way he can be certain that they won’t destroy The Baratie and Zeff all in one go. He sobs harder thinking about losing the only found family he’s ever had.

“Hey.” The door creaks open, and the voice sounds familiar, but Sanji's spiraling so far he can’t even move from the fetal position he has taken up. “Sanji… are you alright?”

Of course, as if life couldn’t fuck him further, standing in the doorway is no other than Zoro. His hair is wet, and he wears nothing but boxers and a v-neck black shirt, obviously straight from the shared showers.

The first and last person he wants to see.

“I’m fine,” he says, sniffling, wiping the snot from his nose with his sleeve.

Zoro doesn’t buy it, as he walks into the room, his feet padding softly against Sanji’s exquisite carpet. He sits on the edge bed. “You clearly aren’t.”

Sanji breathes heavily again, and then shuffles to uncover his head. He looks at Zoro’s form, who’s sitting politely. Far enough way to not disturb him, but close enough to still be there.

“You are right,” Sanji says, sitting up, moving himself slightly closer to Zoro. “I am not.”

Zoro looks around awkwardly, and Sanji thinks that he might be wondering where to place his hands, before one of them comes to rest casually on Sanji’s leg. He moves it in a small rubbing motion, a comfort attempt. “What’s going on?”

“I-” Sanji catches himself. What can he even say? He can’t tell Zoro about his father because… Zoro is another thing he has to give up. What if Nami has expressed her concerns to her family and they’ve told his father? He will lose Zoro too. Judge could have Zoro expelled from the University permanently, keeping them far apart. It’s not like they have a real reason to keep in contact. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Really,” Sanji says, sitting up, still panicking, his voice raising a few octaves and speeding through his thoughts. “Nami already feels weird about you, you have to leave, I don’t need more rumors about me.”

Zoro’s face scrunches in a weird way, and Sanji senses the incoming heartbreak, but he needs to save him from his father’s devices. He stands, not saying another word.

“You sure you’re alright, cook?”

“Don’t call me that.” Sanji’s cold, mimicking his father’s empty voice. “Please just leave.”

He turns to look at the wall, not being able to watch Zoro’s expression anymore. He listens to the footsteps, and waits for them to leave, before returning to the fetal position and crying with all his might. He’ll quit the restaurant in the morning. It’s the best he can do.

He will protect everyone from incoming doom.

Cassian

Cassian hates himself.

There is no other way to describe the pensive mood he appears to be in.

He knew coming to Rhys’ apartment was a bad idea, but he did it anyway. And now he sits, Nesta curled up into his side, Feyre across from him, sipping tea from delicate china that’s smaller than his hand. He resists the urge to smash the dainty cup between his fingers.

He can not stand Nesta. He can not stand the way she has bags under her eyes or the way she pretends like nothing has changed between them.

He is mad at himself for sleeping with Nami. He is mad that he can’t escape the horrible thoughts of her thighs and her wet slick juices.

“Well what do you think?” Feyre’s voice is encouraging. “Cassian?”

Fuck, he sweats. He hasn’t been paying attention, his mind reeling with thoughts of other things. He hates the stupid, small smile that Feyre wears on her face. She can see right through him, so she must be aware something is up.

His silence must confirm her suspicions, so she repeats herself. “Do you want to go to the fall dance with Nesta? Rhys is thinking of renting that limousine.”

Another party? Another night of standing next to Nesta while she dresses in bizarre, outgoing outfits while ignoring all of his sexual advances? Another night of getting so wasted in a desperate attempt to feel

something

, to feel anything at all?

Absolutely not.

“No.”

“I’m sorry?”

Nesta pulls slightly away from him, and he feels her heat shift away. He feels her body go rigid beside him, but he doesn’t care.

He doesn’t care if he goes to hell, or if he pisses off Feyre Archeron and loses his best friend in the process. He’s losing himself.

“They announce the Student Government winner’s at the Fall dance. You don’t want to go?”

He stands. He has to make a quick exit. “No, I want to go. I just don’t want to go with Nesta.”

He picks up his jacket, which is leaning over the armrest of the couch, and throws the leather over his shoulder, casually. He’ll leave. He’ll make a swift exit rather than face the downfall. He starts his retreat, making fast time, and he reaches the door knob when Nesta grabs his hand.

“Is there someone else?” She asks, her stupid fishnet glove holding his hand awkwardly. She has gaudy rings decorating her fingers and he can not stand it.

At one point, he would have loved the way she was unique. Bizarre, a trend setter, but right now, all he can think about is Nami. He feels like he is driving himself mad.

“Is there someone else?” Her voice is breaking, and his hand is holding the doorknob. He turns it, letting the rainy breeze in as he turns to answer her question.

“Yes,” he whispers silently, shutting his eyes. “I believe there is.”

He exits, leaving his entire life crumbling behind him.