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Chapter Text

It wouldn’t be the first time the Straw Hats had turned an entire island into a flaming pile of rubble in the process of saving it. 

The island’s inhabitants didn’t seem to care, as the dangerous pirate group that had been exhorting every Beli from them, pressganging their young men into their crew, and killing indiscriminately were decimated. The grateful townspeople had even invited the crew to a banquet at the temple of their patron deity. 

Luffy was in the lead, climbing up the tall, winding path to the temple. “Woo hoo! Banquet time! Meat!” 

“I hear that this temple is dedicated to a love goddess. It will interesting to see if they have any old inscriptions,” Robin titled her head to the side, smiling happily. 

“Love goddess? You mean that if I pray there, Nami-swan will fall in love with me?!” Sanji swooned, hearts blossoming in his eyes. 

“Like that will ever happen,” Zoro muttered, rolling his eye. 

“Oi, shitty marimo! At least some of us have feelings!” the cook spat back, puffing an annoyed stream of smoke in the swordsman’s direction. 

“At least I know when something’s never going to happen,” Zoro growled, his eye following Sanji as he sidled up to the orange-haired navigator. 

They stopped at a huge, black arched gate at the temple’s entrance. Deep red rose bushes swirled around it, immersing the pirates in their sweet scent. A young attendant dressed in gossamer layers of robes in many shades of red addressed them. 

“Welcome, our saviors. Our high priestess would like to meet you before the banquet. This way, please,” the pale-haired teen beckoned with a smile, her mirthful gray eyes flicking between Zoro and Sanji. 

She led them to the high priestess of the temple, a middle aged, statuesque woman with long, black hair pulled into a fanlike knot. Her deep maroon robes were artistically patterned with meandering whorls of silver-hued embroidery, the stitches reflecting a dull metallic gleam in the temple’s soft lights. 

She surveyed the Straw Hats seated before her with gratitude. 

“I'm sure all of you are hungry, but please let me express my thanks for all you've done, even despite the collateral damage. Thank you. May the goddess bless you,” she said warmly, then bowed deeply, the sleeves of her fine robes brushing the floor. 

“So please, eat and enjoy yourse–” The priestess broke off mid sentence as her coal black eyes fell on Sanji. 

“Ah, I’m sorry! I wasn't expecting something like this!” she exclaimed as she ran over to the cook and grabbed his hand as her eyes hunted among the crew for something. 

Hearts appeared in Sanji’s eyes. “I wasn't expecting this either, madam, but I feel the goddess’s blessing on me already!” he crooned, kissing her hand. 

Her robe smacked him in the face as she extracted herself and approached the altar. 

“Goddess’s blessing indeed. You are very lucky to be traveling with your soulmate, young pirate. By the look of it, this is a soul who you have lived out many lifetimes with,” she explained as the rest of the crew gasped. 

“Nami-swan! Did you hear that? We belong together!” Sanji noodled over to the red-haired navigator, who shoved him away. 

“It’s not me, idiot!” Nami drew her fist back and punched him. 

The priestess gently led the bruised cook away and drew a line on his forehead with an oil scented lightly with spices and aromatic wood. 

“This is a gift. You will now see what I do,” she told him, cupping the cook’s hand and spreading his fingers out before him. 

Zoro crossed his arms as he disdainfully watched the cook study his own hand in amazement. The priestess suddenly swept through and pressed the oil on him. 

“Oi, what the hell?!” the swordsman yelled, furiously rubbing the concoction off of him. A flash of red caught his attention. A length of red cord was wrapped around his little finger and trailed down to the ground. He grabbed at it to rip it off, but he found his fingers just went through the ghostly thread. 

“Both of you follow it, if you would,” the priestess directed as the rest of the Straw Hats watched on in astonishment. 

“I don’t know what sort of magic trick this is, lady, but I don’t need to--what the hell are you doing, shit cook?” Zoro demanded as Sanji stood before him, pinky up. 

“I followed it,” he simply said, his curly eyebrow dipped in confusion. 

The swordsman dropped his gaze. The red thread was shorter now and draped between him and the cook. “No, no, no. We are NOT soul mates!” 

Their crew burst into fits of laughter. Luffy dropped on the ground and rolled around in a fit. “Zoro and Sanji in love? That’s hilarious!” 

“We’re not in love, idiot! Shut up!” The swordsman shouted irately to his captain, his face flushed with pink. 

Sanji spun around to the quietly smiling priestess. “There's no way we can be soul mates! We hate each other!” the cook loudly protested. 

The high priestess motioned for the group to calm down, her wide sleeves bobbing up and down. “Why don’t the rest of you go eat? I would like a moment with these two alone.” 

The crew filed out, not without a few snickers and jibes. Zoro and Sanji stood far apart, the red cord snaking on the ground in between them. 

Before she could speak, Zoro butted in. 

“You are going to fix this,” he ordered humorlessly. 

“You be nice to a lady, brainless marimo!” Sanji snapped at him. He cleared his throat. “Please fix this,” he asked politely. 

“I can’t change the truth of the situation, but there might be something I can do so you will no longer be able see the thread of fate that connects your souls. However, you will have to go through the trials. If you do that, then the goddess will allow me hide it from your view,” she offered. 

“What are the trials?” Zoro asked suspiciously. 

“The goddess requires you offer her love in exchange for the hate you both want to keep. I will put you both in a dream where you will go through a series of ordeals together. After you complete them, I will hide the thread. Do you accept?” The priestess looked from one to the other, her serious face bathed in amber from the lamps’ golden light. 

Sanji’s eye followed down the length of the cord with disdain. “How long will it take?” he gently asked. 

“Only a few hours. I will put you in a meditative state right here in the temple, and I can even wake you before the banquet is over,” she laughed richly. 

“Alright, I accept your offer as long as I’m in your beautiful hands,” he told the priestess, smiling broadly. 

“You’re a devil fruit user, aren’t you?” Zoro questioned harshly, glowering at her. 

She nodded. “Yes. I have eaten the Dream Dream fruit, and will be connecting with your minds to conduct the trials.” 

He sighed heavily, pushing a hand through his short green hair. “I don’t like the idea of you in my head, but I don’t want to have to look at this either.” He jerked his pinky up for extra emphasis. “Fine, I accept.” 

“Very well then,” the high priestess said, bringing out a silver box and lighting a bit of incense in it. She then closed the punctured lid and wafted the feathery, blue-tinged smoke towards them. 

“Breathe deeply and relax,” she soothed. “The trials will begin soon.” 

Zoro inhaled a generous breath, the scent of roses beckoning him to a deep slumber.

When he woke again, he was warm. Very warm. He cracked his eye open a sliver and saw he was in the men’s quarters of the Sunny in one of the wooden hammocks. 

As he shifted, another body slid against him. He froze. Sanji’s cheek was nestled against his bare chest, little puffs of his breath tickling his skin. The surprised swordsman’s face began to burn as he looked down at the mop of blond hair in his arms. He slid his palm down the curve of the cook’s back and felt smooth, hot skin underneath his rumpled, open dress shirt. 

Zoro cautiously gripped the other man a little tighter to him. Sanji sighed in his sleep, relaxing into his touch, his fingers closing around the folds of his green robe. 

The cook was so incredibly warm. 

Zoro’s heart began to pound in his ears. 

He had to get out of there. 

He rolled over and ripped himself out of his rival’s grasp, and Sanji woke with a start, exploding out of the bed and knocking his head on the bunk overhead with a loud crash. 

“Shit! What the fuck are you doing?!” the flustered cook cursed irately, rubbing the back of his head. 

Zoro gritted his teeth. “Don’t look at me, shit cook! I just woke up this way!” 

Sanji shot him a hateful glare, then angrily stomped to the safety of the galley, buttoning up his shirt with sharp motions as he walked. Zoro reluctantly followed after him into the pre-dawn chill of the Sunny’s deck. 

When he made it to the kitchen, Sanji was crumpled over in a seat at the long table, looking ragged and smoking heavily. When he lifted his head, a vibrant blush still bridged his nose and cheeks. 

“You look like hell, cook,” Zoro commented. 

“Shut up,” Sanji snarled, glaring at the swordsman with distaste. “I shouldn't have agreed to this.” 

“It’s too late now, curly brow. Might as well win this thing,” Zoro stated dispassionately, leaning against the island on the end opposite the cook. 

“Then let’s finish this quickly and get the hell back. I don’t want to make Nami-san and Robin-chan worry,” Sanji replied, tendrils of smoke ghosting off of his dying cigarette as he propped up his face in his hands. 

“Right. The less time I have to spend with your stupid ass, the better,” Zoro said flatly, crossing his arms. 

A pleasant smell drifted up from the shifting folds of the swordsman’s clothing as he moved. It was familiar and comfortable, like napping on the beach beside the warmth of a dying bonfire, slightly smoky with the essence of ocean spray. 

Sanji’s scent had apparently rubbed off onto his robe in bed, and it was doing things to him that it shouldn’t have. 

Zoro focused on maintaining a neutral expression as he dropped his hands. His unmarred eye fell on the red thread winding over the table with an accusatory glare. 

“Then for once we agree. Let’s get going,” Sanji said as he snatched his pack of cigarettes from the table. 

“Go where, shit cook? We're on the ship in a middle of a dream!” the swordsman huffed, his mouth pulled into a tight frown. 

“Idiot. How did you not notice that we’re docked?” Sanji said in disbelief, pouting out his lip to blow a thick stream of smoke towards the ceiling. He scooted his chair out and headed to the deck. 

Zoro begrudgingly followed, his eye narrowing hatefully at the cord that chased after the cook as stubbornly as a shadow. He reminded himself it wouldn’t be much longer before he was downing mugs of sake at the banquet after all this stupidity was over with. 

Chapter Text

The pale peach light of dawn revealed what Zoro had missed in the darkness. The Thousand Sunny was moored, one in a line of tall sailing ships in the crescent-shaped harbor.

Sanji jabbed the end of his cigarette towards the men's sleeping quarters. "See if there is anyone here, just in case. I'm going to look for Nami-san and Robin-chan."

They split up and scoured the ship, but found it deserted.

"I guess it's just us," Zoro said, moving to the side of the ship to get a better look at the town, hazy in the morning fog.

"Of course it would be just us," Sanji sighed heavily, a chaotic cloud of smoke erupting from his mouth.

Zoro remained silent, watching the white smoke dissipate as it wafted over him.

"It's unfortunate that we're just wasting that poor priestess's time. Their goddess isn't going to get any love out of two people who hate each other as much as we do," the cook grumbled.

Zoro planted his hands on the rail beside him. "I don't hate you," he told Sanji, the words already out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Sanji's curly eyebrow leapt up, and he whipped his head around towards Zoro.

"Idiot! Is your moss brain getting confused about that, too? We've hated each other since the moment we first met!"

Something in Zoro snapped. He stalked towards Sanji, who suddenly found the green-haired man in his personal space. "I'm so fucking tired of this shit." The swordsman's gruff voice was wrapped in subtle traces of something the cook didn't recognize.

"What the hell is your problem, marimo?!" Sanji demanded, one foot hovering menacingly over the ground.

Panic spread like ice in Sanji's chest as Zoro captured his wrist with a slap, his eye smoldering with an unfamiliar gleam. The stunned cook retreated a long stride backwards and bumped into the rail, nearly falling backwards off of the ship. Zoro easily caught him, winding a strong arm around his lean waist and pulling the astonished cook to him with a jolt that knocked a groan out of him. Sanji's hand clawed onto Zoro's back as he leaned in and whispered in his ear.

"Let's get one thing straight. I never want to hear you say that I hate you ever again," he hissed, appreciating the shiver that he could feel fluttering through the cook's body.

"Get the fuck off. Now!" Sanji warned, his foot sweeping up dangerously.

Zoro roughly released him and paced down the deck. Behind him, the red-faced and panting cook threw quick glances at his back as he shakily lit a cigarette.

The swordsman leaned heavily against the side of the ship, mindlessly watching seabirds crisscross through the air above a fishing boat while feeling the warmth of the cook evaporate from his arms.

He looked up to find Sanji examining him with an unreadable expression, the mechanisms of his intelligent mind churning as they locked eyes.

"I don't know what the fuck that was back there, but I'm going to kick the shit out of you if you ever get that close to me again," the cook's deep voice warned as keen-edged and humorlessly as the katanas Zoro wore at his side.

To be honest, Zoro didn't really know what the hell that was back there either, but he wasn't going to explore it. He got a good rise out of the curly cook, so he was satisfied.

"Zoro! Sanji!" A friendly voice yelled from the pier.

A young, pale-haired woman enthusiastically waved her arms in the air at them in a way that reminded Zoro of Chopper.

Hearts blossomed in Sanji's eyes, and he instantly shot out of the ship, materializing beside her and whipping around like a miniature tornado. Zoro rolled his eyes.

The teen wore a dark red yukata robe with silver flowers dancing across it. She gave a gentle chuckle. "I'm Rikka. I'm here to facilitate your trial," she said with a wide grin.

"Are you working with the priestess of that love temple or something?" Zoro asked, walking up beside them. He squinted at her with distrust.

"Yes. Remember? I greeted you back at the temple," she replied.

"I guess," Zoro mumbled, lowering his eyebrows in confusion.

"That idiot doesn't have the decency to notice sweet ladies like yourself, Rikka-chan," Sanji explained, shooting a murderous look at the swordsman.

She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "Oh, I read all about his total lack of noticing girls in the file that my boss sent," she replied innocently, then flashed Zoro a sly, knowing grin.

The swordsman balked, turning pale.

"See marimo? Your rudeness is so legendary that they had to put it on your file," Sanji scolded.

Zoro slowly exhaled the breath he had been holding.

"Can you tell us what the trial is, Rikka-chan?" Sanji asked.

"Of course. There are a series of three trials. They are tailored to each couple, so I have a feeling yours will be very exciting, considering your line of work." As she spoke, she reached down and casually plucked their thread off of the ground.

Zoro was looking away with a bored expression when he felt a tug on his little finger. He snapped his head up to find the red cord in her hands. Sanji found his gaze and they traded an equally shocked expression.

"You can touch it?" Zoro hurriedly asked. He had tried to grab that thing a dozen times and it had fallen through his hands on every attempt.

"Those who devote their lives in service to the goddess can touch the threads of fate," she said distractedly, her thin fingers digging into the wefts of the line as if searching for something. Satisfied, she let it drop to the ground.

"Good news, it's pretty healthy!" she announced, beaming a warm, radiant smile at them.

"Healthy?" Zoro asked, crinkling his nose.

"Mmm, if it were unhealthy, say if you hated each other, it would look distressed and you would be able to see through it. It's like blood flow to a limb. Right now, there are enough romantic emotions flowing between you two that it's full of life," she told them.

Zoro could feel heat building up in his cheeks, and he stole a peek at Sanji, who was wide-eyed and reeling like she had slugged him.

"Trust me, Rikka-chan, there are no romantic feelings between us!" the cook insisted.

"Right! Just because I said I don't hate you doesn't mean I like you either!" the swordsman shouted.

No matter how fuckable the pervy cook was, Zoro was not interested, period. Sanji was an irritating ass. A skirt-chasing showboat. And most of all, he hated Zoro just as intensely as he loved women.

"Whatever! I blame this on you, marimo! Jumping me like that today," he said, pointing an accusing finger at Zoro.

Rikka raised an eyebrow, swapping her gaze between them with an amused smirk.

"It flows both ways, guys. In any case, I've counted it and you've had 12 lifetimes together so far. Congratulations!" she said cheerfully.

"12 lifetimes? That's like over 1,000 years! Are you sure that's right, Rikka-chan?" Sanji desperately questioned.

"Of course. Each single strand woven into your thread of fate represents one life you've lived with your soulmate. I counted 12, so this life would be lucky 13. You only get an additional strand if you live out your life together as lovers, so the fact you two seem to keep finding each other is very sweet but also very rare. You know, not everybody even has a thread," she added, pulling out a small clipboard and checking off a few boxes on a sheet. It made her look a bit like a strange tour guide.

"I'm glad you two found our temple, because it does look like you might need a little more help this time around. Don't worry, we'll fix you right up!" she proclaimed, snapping the pen under the clip and giving them a reassuring thumbs up.

Sanji practically melted, the vibrant pink hearts rising like bubbles around him. "You're so cute, Rikka-chan!"

"Look, your goal might be to get us together, but the only reason we came here is to hide the thread and go back to the way things are. That priestess said we could just go through the trials and leave," Zoro told her, his eyebrows dragging low in a cold scowl.

Sanji nodded. "That's right, Rikka-chan. We don't want a number thirteen."

"I suppose you could do that, although it would make me sad if you didn't at least try while you were here. We should get you started with the trials, then. Now just a warning, they aren't going to be easy. Possibly a little dangerous. But you guys are tough, right?"

"Of course we are, my lovely!" Sanji swooned, flashing her one of his handsome, boyish smiles, causing something uncomfortable to tighten inside of Zoro's chest.

"Follow me, please!" she beckoned, turning on her heel and leading them on.

The town was bustling with people, the streets lined with brick buildings erected closely together. Colorful tents of peddlers and merchants draped like spider webs across each tight, winding alleyway.

The warm scent of cinnamon and other spices drifted in the air as they flowed with the pressing river of people packed so closely together that Zoro accidentally swiped a few knees with his fan of swords.

They eventually reached the town square, a large plaza framed by four tall stone pillars. Branches cut from flowering trees festively adorned the corners of the tents around the perimeter, spreading their petals and fragrance among the throngs of people milling around.

On the end of the plaza stood a soaring white temple chiseled with elegant carvings of wave-like, spiral shapes. Vines of blackish red rose bushes spun up the columns.

"Looks like your stupid eyebrows, cook," Zoro muttered, scoffing at the sculptural building.

"Shut the hell up, marimo. Better than looking like a dumb bush!" Sanji returned as he gestured at a row of spherical evergreens bordering a small garden on the grounds.

Rikka barked a laugh. "You guys are so made for each other," she chuckled under her breath. She guided them inside the massive doors, ushering them into the darkness lit comfortably by clusters of candles. Streams of incense smoke rose lazily to the ceiling.

A familiar figure in a layered burgundy robe kneeled at a low altar. The high priestess stood as they approached.

"Welcome, Roronoa Zoro, Sanji. Are you ready to begin the trials?" She asked, her long black hair shining gold in the candlelight.

"We are, my lady," Sanji confirmed.

"Let's just get this over with," Zoro grunted. The cook shot him a withering look.

"Good. Lady Rikka, please show them to the first trial. May the goddess guide and watch over you both," she prayed, giving them both a tired smile, her skin under her eyes slightly darkened like she had a bad night's sleep.

Zoro's narrowed eye lingered on her as he was ushered away, wondering how long she could hold this illusion with her powers.

Rikka led them to a door behind a heavy floor to ceiling curtain. She suddenly halted and spun around.

"Face each other and take a big step," she directed, motioning for them to get closer. "A little more...there."

They were begrudgingly standing close together, their red thread automatically adjusting to the distance between them. Rikka kneeled down and grabbed it, pulling out a length of slack, the loop of it falling softly into her lap. The next part she did at lightning speed, forcing them to interlace their fingers and winding the thread around each pair of arms and wrists, tying them tightly together with the red rope. She stood and proudly surveyed her work, hands on her hips.

"Oi!" Zoro exclaimed, trying to wiggle out of the wraps. "How the hell are we supposed to be able to do anything tied up like this?!"

He held up one set of their uselessly bound arms, then dropped it in frustration.

"Idiot swordsman! Quit being a baby!" Sanji kicked him in the shin, and Zoro sucked in a pained breath.

The young woman flung open the door with a loud creak, shoving the pair inside.

"Trial ends when you guys figure a way out of that," she called as she walked away, lazily kicking the door shut.

Chapter Text

As soon as the door boomed shut, Zoro's vision began to melt into puddles of color and his ears rang with an eerie, high-pitched tone as he and Sanji were plunged into suffocating darkness.

His eye fluttered open as the pleasant warmth of the sun fell softly on his face and the comfortable aura of a familiar person radiated from his fingers.

They had been transported on top of a high hill on some sort of island. A hot wind that smelled like the sea rushed past them, tousling their hair and whipping through their clothes. Wheat-colored grasses spread out in gently rolling waves before them, tassels of seeds at their tops nodding in the breeze. A large harbor and a town on the opposite side of the island were visible in the distance.

Zoro tested the binds of their red cord, but as much as he twisted his hands, he couldn't wriggle out of their interlaced grip.

"Shit. Just great," the cook grumbled as he observed that the thread wrapped multiple times around both of their hands and fingers as well, rendering each set about as useful as a club.

"What the hell are we supposed to do now?" Zoro asked crossly as he scanned their environment, his head on a swivel.

"Rikka-chan said to figure a way out of this," Sanji shrugged, looking uneasy. A single drop of sweat crawled down his forehead. "Uh, marimo?"

"Yeah?" Zoro found Sanji's eye, but the cook was refusing to meet his gaze.

"I could really use a cigarette right now," he hesitantly admitted.

"Oh this is rich. You actually want my help with something. Just deal with it," Zoro told him, frowning as he watched Sanji's face fall with the heaviness of disappointment.

"Bastard. And they wonder why we don't get along," the cook said bitterly.

"Which pocket?" Zoro suddenly demanded. The cook's blue eye met his.

"Right," Sanji said hesitantly.

The swordsman shoved their bound hands into the pocket, pincering the pack between his index and middle fingers and fishing it out, shaking it until one jutted forward. He led their hands to Sanji's face, who took the cigarette in his mouth. The cook's cheeks began to flush a deep red.

Zoro's heart inexplicably sped up.

The swordsman regained his concentration and dropped their hands back down to scoop up his lighter.

"Spark it," the green-haired man directed, working to hold it upright in his thumbless grip.

Sanji wiggled his forefinger out and turned the wheel while Zoro held it. A flame soon flickered between them, and the cook bent down and lit it, closing his eyes in relief as he took in a deep breath of soothing nicotine.

"Just when I think there's no hope for you, you go and do something halfway decent," Sanji smirked.

"I'm not planning on making it a habit, cook," Zoro said, glaring at him.

"Whatever. I'd like to explore that town, but not like this. We need to get out of these." Sanji grimaced at the layers of red imprisoning their arms.

"Any ideas?" Zoro asked.

"One. You aren't going to like it," the cook sighed, blowing a stream of smoke downwards.

"Try me."

"This is a love trial. I'm pretty sure that if we kissed or something the thread would come off," Sanji said seriously, a frown deepening the lines around his mouth.

"No way! We should try something else first," Zoro blurted out.

"Look, kissing a stupid piece of moss is the last thing I want to do, but if it works then we won't have to hold hands anymore," Sanji said, growing more irritated.

Zoro ground his teeth together, then shook his head. "Let's make that a last resort kind of thing," he told him, his eye falling on the cook's soft-looking lips.

They were able to awkwardly walk down the incline with their arms stretched and crossed in uncomfortable positions in front of them. The swordsman watched slow moving, fluffy clouds cast roving shadows on the valley below and he wondered how everything could feel so real.

About a quarter of the way down the hill, Sanji's body suddenly tensed as they both sensed something. He twisted back to look past Zoro's shoulder.

"The game just changed, marimo!" the cook yelled, kicking the swordsman's legs out from under him. They both fell heavily to the ground just as a searing white beam streaked where they had just been standing.

Zoro tried to ignore his position on top of the cook as he peeked through the grass to find a line of black and white Pacifistas cresting the ridge. A complement of Navy soldiers filled in the ranks between the hulking cyborgs.

The swordsman grinned fiercely, his eye gleaming with a thirst for battle.

"Wipe that damn look off your face. You can't even hold a sword like this!" Sanji griped from underneath him.

"Get one into my mouth," Zoro simply said.

"And have my head be right in front of the business end? No thanks. As much as I hate this, we should try my plan before they get right on top of us," Sanji pressed. The tip of the cook's tongue peeked out as he nervously licked his lips.

Zoro's predatory eye was now fully focused on his nakama, and a spark of intense need snapped through his body, traveling straight down to where his crotch had ended up in the 'v' of the cook's legs.

The swordsman scrambled off of him.

"No, we definitely shouldn't do that," Zoro said quickly. "Get one of my swords out. I won't cut your head off if you duck."

"I'm almost 100% sure this will work! Then you can have all the fun you want with these guys!" Sanji insisted, his curly eyebrows knitting together.

Zoro roughly pulled the cook to his feet. "Just run, idiot!"

The Pacifistas had nearly caught up, raining down blasts of energy that exploded chunks of earth that sprayed on either side of them. The pirates gracelessly shuffled as they ran tethered together, making for a dense forest that rose to the west of the town in the distance.

"Help me get a damn sword out, fucking cook! I helped you with your stupid cigarette!" the swordsman yelled heatedly across to Sanji.

"If you're going to bitch that much, then stop and let me take care of them! I don't need my hands to fight!" he shouted back.

"Neither do I! Help me get my sword and we can both do it!" Zoro argued, getting into the cook's face.

The swordsman grunted as a shot exploded right beneath their feet, flipping them over and causing them to violently skid down the hill in a cloud of dirt and debris. He rolled over as the dust settled and started rubbing his face on his shoulder when he felt Sanji's hand squeeze his tightly. He looked over and saw the cook kneeling beside him, a long gash gushing bright red through a ragged tear in his black pants.

"Fuck," the cook cursed, trembling as he rose to his feet, then stumbled, issuing a string of colorful curses.

The Pacifistas would have them surrounded in a few moments.

"Get up!" Zoro pulled on Sanji's arm.

"I'm trying, shitty moss-for-brains!" Sanji barked at him, limping to his feet.

"Run!" Zoro ordered, but the cook was obviously struggling as he lamely hobbled. Before Sanji could complain, the swordsman grabbed his thighs with their bound hands and wrapped the blond's thin legs around his waist, carrying him as best he could. As he sprinted away, Zoro felt a worrying stream of Sanji's blood soaking warmly through his pants.

"What the hell are you doing?!" the cook demanded as he balanced Zoro's awkward grip by digging his chin into his shoulder, watching the oncoming onslaught from behind. Before the swordsman could answer, Sanji screamed at him.

"Go left, marimo. Left! That's your right, dumbass!" the cook growled angrily into his ear as they narrowly dodged another Pacifista beam, Zoro scrambling to maintain his balance.

"Marimo, I feel like an idiot running around like this when we can break one of these things in a single hit if we were untied." The cook took a deep breath, adjusting his grip on Zoro's fingers. "I fucking hate asking for this sort of thing again, but..."

The swordsman's wide eye shot over to Sanji, whose embarrassment was evident in the pink blush gracing his cheekbones, making him look more vulnerable than he actually was. Zoro decided to chalk it up to the blood loss and not the fact that the cook was, in his own way, begging the swordsman to kiss him. He ran at full speed for a while longer until the attacks became less frequent.

"How far away are they?" he asked.

"About like when they appeared. We have a good lead," Sanji told him.

Zoro stopped running and unwound the cook's legs from around his waist. Sanji sank to the ground, dragging the swordsman down next to him by their tethered arms.

"This is a stupid idea, cook. I'd rather see how long I can last with those guys," the swordsman's voice was hard, but he was already casting furtive glances at the cook's mouth. At this close proximity, Sanji's familiar scent of breaking ocean waves came rushing to him.

"I can't fight, dumbass, and this is probably the only way to end the trial. The faster we get this over with, the faster we move to the next one and go home. It's just a means to an end, marimo, that's all," Sanji explained, clinging to cold logic as if it could blanket him from irrational emotions.

"Fine, but just a quick one. In and out, and we never talk about this again, ok?" Zoro said anxiously, leaning forward.

"Fine by me. The quicker, the better. This is going to be so gross," Sanji griped, closing his eye tightly.

"I don't want to kiss your ashtray of a mouth either, shit cook!" the swordsman snapped back, pissed off at the strange thoughts looming in the back of his mind.

He wondered what Sanji might actually taste like.

"Oi! My mouth isn't an ashtray! Just fucking do it already!" the agitated cook yelled, squeezing his eye shut.

Zoro sighed bitterly, but froze as he peered into his face. Heat began building below his waist.

Sanji was ready for the kiss. His cheeks were flushed. His lips were softly parted, waiting. His unhidden blue eye was closed tightly, his spiral eyebrows knitted together.

He had never seen the cook with such an expression before, and it made him feel off balance, as if he were standing at the edge of a cliff and looking down at the drop below.

It wouldn't take a very big push to send him falling.

Zoro leaned forward and captured Sanji's lips, and their mouths fit together like two pieces to a whole.

A curious shiver swept like wildfire through the swordsman's body. He had gone in for a quick peck, but his lips began to move with a will of their own. He caressed Sanji's mouth with slow, deliberate brushes, and to his surprise, the cook instantly reciprocated, the years of built up sexual tension between them coursing like a drug through their veins.

Neither of them noticed the bindings of their thread of fate loosen and spread out, looping like petals of scarlet flower blossoms before shrinking again into the single line that bridged between them.

Sanji fisted a handful of the swordsman's green robe and panted through the intense, fluid kisses, hungrily devouring every sweep of the other man's mouth. The swordsman rocked forward and coaxed the cook's lips apart with a soft lick, slipping his tongue inside.

The cook hummed faintly, his unsure fingertips beginning to graze Zoro's bare chest. The swordsman found his newly freed hands on the cook's waist, running his fingers over his lean, toned core and down his compact hips.

Sanji recoiled, suddenly shoving Zoro away and leaping up.

The swordsman opened his eye to find that they were now in an empty stone room lit only by candlelight, the scent of incense filtering through the cracks around the heavy door. The cook turned his back to Zoro and lit a cigarette, dropping a hand to check on the injury that didn't exist anymore as he heaved in ragged breaths.

Zoro's chest rose and fell excitedly as he dragged a hand down his face, doing his best to forget the way the cook's hands were running over him just a few moments before. He roughly wiped his mouth on the back of his arm, trying to get rid of sensation of the kiss still buzzing on his lips.

"Where the hell did that come from, Zoro?" Sanji asked in hushed tones, refusing to turn around.

Heat spread across Zoro's face as he looked down at the vibrant, healthy cord that connected them and wondered himself.

The swordsman carefully considered his words. "We did what we had to do, and just because it wasn't horrible doesn't mean it goes any deeper than that, cook. Nothing's changed," the green-haired man lied.

"Just a means to an end," Sanji said, nodding to himself. "Now forget this ever happened, marimo."

The door shrieked open and Rikka stuck her head in. "Hey! You passed. Congratulations!"

"Rikka-chan!" Sanji whipped to her side, fawning over her as she beckoned for them to exit the room.

Zoro glared at Rikka's back as the cook flirted with her. She might not say anything about it, but the swordsman knew she knew exactly what happened during the trial, and it made his stomach churn.

She led them outside to the steps of the temple, then turned on her heel, presenting them with two envelopes.

"You guys need a little break, I think," she said, depositing them into their hands.

"Take this money, get something to eat, and have a little fun for a bit, together or apart, whatever you'd like. Meet back here in two hours. Don't worry, time runs much faster in the boss's dream than in the real world," she assured them.

"Thank you, Rikka-chan! You're so generous! Want to get lunch with me? I can cook you something if you have a kitchen!" Sanji flitted around her, hearts bubbling around him.

Zoro peeled the envelope's flap back and found a very comfortable amount of Beli in it. He instantly made a plan to find a whole lake of sake to drink. Throwing an elbow over his trio of swords, he descended the steps of the temple, passing by the amorous cook as if he were invisible.

The blond girl pushed Sanji aside. "Zoro-kun! Be sure to come back in time or the next trial will automatically start!" she called.

Zoro waved back at her without turning around.

"If you get lost and cause Rikka-chan trouble, and I will kick your ass, marimo!" Sanji shouted at him.

Zoro waved back a slightly different gesture at him, continuing straight ahead without looking back.

Chapter Text

The swordsman meandered through the city looking for a bar, but wasn't having any luck finding one. He crossed a long, elegantly arched bridge spanning a fast green river and the road beneath his feet changed from stone to bricks laid in sophisticated circular patterns. The buildings grew larger and more ornate, and he began to suspect that the cheap bar he was hoping for wouldn't be found in this district.

He passed boutiques with laughably expensive price tags on apparently brand name wares displayed in their large, gleaming windows.

Zoro's eyebrows were lowering in annoyance at all the junk when he came to a sudden halt. His eye locked onto one shop's sign with a searching expression that you'd see on the face of a person who was having a hard time remembering someone's name.

"Isn't that the panda that's on his prissy pink apron?" Zoro mused, frowning at the strange black and white panda on the sign that read "Doskoi Panda" in stylized lettering.

From the window's display, it looked like they carried a variety of Doskoi brand items, from designer clothes to high-end homewares. The prices were just as outrageous as the other stores in the district.

Zoro started to walk on by, but came to a halt as he spotted a wicked-looking kitchen knife displayed in the window. He hesitated. The swordsman supposed there was no harm in looking. It's not like he even had enough money to buy anything in this store anyway.

He would just see how good the steel was and then he'd leave, that's all.

The green-haired man entered in, passing all of the clothes and home goods and beelining straight back to the wall of kitchen knives. The swordsman had initially come in just to check their quality, but ended up being absorbed by the display, carefully studying each finely-made knife as if he were selecting a katana to go into battle with. By sword standards, they were incredible.

He inspected many different kinds, but one in particular stood out, a chef's knife a little longer than the length of his hand. The steel was flawless, the edge crisp and dangerously sharp, and the handle artfully curved so it fit comfortably into one's hand. It was a blade with a soul, and Zoro wanted it.

He gritted his teeth when he looked at the price tag. It was nearly as expensive as a good katana! Reluctantly, he rested the superb knife back on the display, giving serious thought to why he was so disappointed anyway. There was really no scenario where buying the cook a knife was ok.

Except the one, he thought, swallowing hard.

He felt a weight brush against his side, tugging at his pants. The swordsman reached into his pocket and his mouth dropped open in bewilderment as he pulled out a fat, neatly folded wad of Beli, more than enough to get the knife.

Zoro automatically scooped it and its box up before he could second guess himself and took it to the counter, slapping the magically appeared money down determinedly.

The elderly cashier chuckled. "Your cook is very lucky, swordsman. Not everyone has a man who will spend hours picking out a knife for them."

Had he really been in there that long? Rivulets of sweat formed on Zoro's brow as a blush stung his cheeks.

"Well, uh, I'm not even sure if what makes a good sword makes a good kitchen knife," he replied as he took the small box out of the frilly gift bag she gave him and tucked it into the haramaki at his waist.

"You seem to know what makes a good lover, though, and that's what counts," she chuckled, watching in amusement as he left in a hurry.

Zoro exited the store feeling more than a little foolish and began retracing his steps, trying to remember which direction the temple was in.

The box tucked into his haramaki felt cold and strange against his skin. This was very bad. He had somehow bought a wonderful, expensive gift for a straight man who hated him.

Zoro thought he was prepared for what that damn kiss might do to him, but he wasn't expecting that Sanji would kiss him right back with such enthusiasm.

He wasn't expecting that touching the cook would feel so natural, so exciting.

And he definitely wasn't expecting that he'd begin craving something from Sanji that went beyond just sex.

Nothing seemed familiar to Zoro as roughly hewn cobblestones replaced the manicured bricks underfoot, and the crowds of common folk returned like an oppressive halo around him.

He wandered around for a good while before he heard a familiar voice call out to him.

"Oi! Shitty marimo! There you are!" Sanji swam through the traffic, and by the look on his face, he was not pleased.

"What the hell have you been doing? I had to leave Rikka-chan during dessert to come find you! You're lucky I still have this stupid marimo locator to follow, little lost swordsies," he taunted, clenching down on the cigarette dangling from the side of his mouth.

"Oi! I'm not lost, shit cook!" Zoro replied irritably as they both fell into their usual routine.

"That's a bunch of shit! You're so damn hopeless you can't even tell if you're lost or not!" Sanji angrily swiped at Zoro's head with his foot, and the swordsman caught the kick on the blunt edge of a katana.

"You're the one who's hopeless, curly cook. Whenever there's a woman around you're completely useless!" Zoro barked back, pushing back against Sanji's shoe with his sword.

"Maybe if you actually put some effort in with ladies you wouldn't be such a shithead all of the time!" Sanji flipped gracefully away from the blade, smoke waving from his cigarette like a proud flag.

"You spend tons of effort on women and you're still the biggest shithead I know," the swordsman snapped.

"Tch. You're just jealous that all the ladies love me, marimo," Sanji scoffed.

"Whatever, curly brow. Then go find one to bother and get out of my hair." Zoro grumbled, emptying his lungs in one frustrated sigh. He gripped onto Wado's hilt with white peaked knuckles.

"I'm only in your hair because of this stupid thing!" The cook raised his hand and dangled their thread of fate in Zoro's face. "Once it's gone, we never have to speak again for all I care. Got it, shitty moss head?"

Zoro sucked in a sharp breath as he spotted something in the crowd just ahead.

Sanji found himself thrown into an alley without warning and pressed flat against a brick wall behind a stack of crates.

"Get the hell off, mari-" the cook was silenced as Zoro slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Shut up," he whispered in his ear.

Sanji turned his head to peer through the slats of one of the crates. A peek of a white cape emblazoned with black kanji passed in front of the mouth of the alley only feet from their hiding spot like a dark cloud over the sun.

Zoro felt the cook's muscles tense, but he held them both completely still, hidden behind the wooden boxes. Sanji's breath rushed over his hand in agitated puffs as the cook shifted under the weight of the muscular frame plastering him to the wall.

Zoro became lost for a moment as he pressed his face into the cook's neck. He began to focus on the heat from Sanji's body seeping through their clothes, the sound of his heart, the faint scent of the ocean on his skin.

"Get off!" Sanji hissed in a whisper as soon as the threat had moved on, and he pushed Zoro's shoulders away roughly, his cheeks aflame.

As the swordsman took a step back, their eyes met for an unguarded instant, and each saw the other's pupils dilated and heavy with urgent, clothes-ripping lust.

Their wide eyes darted away from each other like repelling magnets.

"Quit looking at me like that, you shitty bastard!" the fuming cook snarled at him, ramming his hands into his pockets.

"If you don't like it, don't look at me," Zoro grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. He felt his own heart thumping madly through his wrists.

The swordsman quickly shifted his concentration from his red-faced rival to the immediate problem of now being trapped in the alley. If they could make a clean break right now, they could run ahead and choose a place to face the Admiral that wasn't a tight street in the middle of a crowd crammed with women and children.

"Can you jump up there?" Zoro asked, pointing to the tops of the buildings they were sandwiched between.

Sanji glowered at him, then nodded seriously. "But I'll have to kick your useless ass up first."

After another quick glance to the end of the alley, the cook hooked his leg like a perch for the swordsman, who jumped on with practiced ease. With a dramatic shift of his weight, he catapulted Zoro to the top of the building then sky walked after him, zigzagging on puffs of air.

Zoro ducked below the lip of the roof and Sanji plopped down next to him.

"It's kind of weird that he's here," Zoro said, watching Sanji from the corner of his eye.

The cook cracked open his lighter, hostility muddying his expression. "There are a lot of weird things happening here that shouldn't be," he stated icily.

"I'm going to assume you mean what happened with the kiss," Zoro said bluntly, raising a green brow. "What's the problem? It served its purpose. We both liked it," he spoke with calm nonchalance. Really liked it.

"That's exactly the problem! I know we're supposed to be in a damn love trial, but I'm not gay and this-" Sanji alternated pointing between them, "is not happening. Nami-san and Robin-chan would be heartbroken if they knew about all of this. That's why that shit stops now. No kisses, no touching, no weird looks. Got it?" the cook ordered as he jabbed his cigarette in the swordsman's face at each point.

Zoro's cocky smirk didn't falter. "So you admit you liked it."

"That's it!" The seething cook launched into the air and attacked, his long leg rushing down at the swordsman's head in a black blur.

Zoro just barely caught the heavy kick on his crossed katanas, then threw Sanji off of with a slice of the blades. The cook backflipped away, landing nimbly on his feet.

An impossibly fast beam of light suddenly streaked in between the fighting pirates, and they dove apart. The swordsman swiftly unsheathed Wado and fed it into his bite, then unknotted his black bandana from his arm with a shake and tied it on his head.

Countless pinpricks of blazing light streaked to the rooftop and began to form the outline of a person. Zoro rapidly coated his swords in Haki, the indigo tendrils of energy snaking down their lengths.

The vision of a past horror in oversized sunglasses, a tacky gold suit, and a long Navy coat stood before them.

"Ahh, if it isn't the Straw Hat Crew," Admiral Kizaru lilted in a sing-song voice.

"I recall that fighting me last time didn't work out so well for you." His eyes moved slyly between them from behind smoked amber lenses.

Zoro didn't hesitate as he rushed forward, his katanas arcing into a bright, Haki-imbued slash of energy that he threw at the Navy Admiral.

Kizaru darted away at inhuman speed, letting the frustrated swordsman's strike rush past him. A white-hot sword of light materialized in the older man's hand.

"Very scary, Roronoa Zoro. But you'll have to do better than that." His slack mouth puckered into an oily smile.

Zoro growled and threw his weight into his swords, wrapped darkly in Armament Haki, and sliced viciously across Kizaru's chest. To the swordsman's shock, his blades passed through the Admiral as if he were made of clear air. Zoro flew forward propelled by his own momentum and harmlessly sailed through the Logia eater's body to the street below. People screamed, clearing the area around him.

"What the hell?" Zoro exclaimed in disbelief as he tumbled to the side to avoid a piercing beam of light. He saw Sanji launch a fearsome attack from behind, swinging a heavy kick like a battering ram at the Admiral's head, flames licking at his streaking leg.

Unsurprisingly, the cook's attack fell right through his immaterial body. Zoro cursed and gripped his katanas' Haki-shaded hilts, which should have cut his enemy just fine. But he hadn't trained two years just to run away.

The admiral streaked down to the street in pursuit, menacingly raising his long, glowing sword.

Zoro crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned forward, his unforgiving swords rising like two horns on either side of his shoulders.

"Rengoku Oni Giri!" The swordsman surged forward, the cutting rush of steel flaring out into bright spires of power before him.

His eye widened as he watched Sanji leap above Kizaru, launching into a tight spin that smoldered with orange fire as he drilled down towards their enemy.

Their attacks slammed into the Admiral at the same time, crushing and slicing through solid flesh and bone, to Zoro's shock. A spray of blood spattered across his white uniform in an ugly, irreparable stain. Kizaru went down heaving onto one knee, but looked up at them through his cracked sunglasses, his normally sagging mouth twisted into a hateful snarl.

"We have to hit him at the same time!" Sanji called to the swordsman.

Zoro gave him a hard nod, wondering how the hell the cook was always able to instantly solve these things. His spine straightened as he saw another figure step out from two buildings behind the cook.

"Cook, behind you!" Zoro urgently shouted.

Sanji saw the glow a second too late as a molten column of lava knifed straight towards him. At the last moment, a dark shape skidded in between him and the magma, silhouetted by the intensely bright, sparking wall of flames.

Triple knife-edged slashes leapt from Zoro's katanas and scythed through the heaps of lava, splitting and flinging the majority of it to the side.

To Zoro's dismay, more of the scalding magma replaced it, lancing straight through his side and sending him sailing through the air and crashing through the wall of a shop.

Sanji launched into an impressive series of flips and dodges to avoid a similar fate as a thick, smoking tendril of molten rock fell where he had just stood. The cook lunged away from Akainu, weaving around the deadly, flaring attacks of two of the Navy's most elite as he made his way to the fallen swordsman, vaulting into the crumbling building.

He peeked back through the huge hole destroyed in the wall and saw Akainu momentarily distracted as he yelled something at the wounded Kizaru. He quickly searched for Zoro.

"Marimo!" Sanji called, throwing debris off of his still body. He cursed as he picked up a brick, slippery with blood. "Time to get out of here, idiot," he said soberly, making a quick check for all three swords before shouldering the badly burned man. The cook burst through the wall on the other side of the small store with a sharp kick then ran into the alley.

It wasn't long before he sensed his pursuers close behind. Sanji spotted a bridge crossing a fast river ahead and he ran for it, stopping in the middle of the solidly-built span. He spun around to face the two Admirals.

Sanji hefted Zoro's weight further up on his shoulder, and the swordsman groaned. His intelligent blue eye shifted between his outrageously powerful enemies and he took a step back, scuffing into the side of the stone bridge.

"Marimo," he whispered, hoping the injured man was conscious enough to understand. "Take a deep breath and hold it." He felt Zoro's chest shudder and expand.

"What do we have here? A Supernova on his last legs. I'm going to end this ridiculous Pirate Era, one pirate at a time." Akainu snarled, his arm melting into a smoldering plume of goopy lava. Kizaru appeared on his other side, holding his blood-streaked chest but aiming his finger threateningly at them.

"Tch. Idiots. You can kill every last one of us, but as long as there are people who want to be free, there will be pirates," Sanji replied passionately, a wild blue ocean roaring in his visible eye.

As another pillar of intensely bright, steaming lava blasted at the pirates, Sanji launched in a dramatic leap backwards off the bridge, Zoro in tow.

Chapter Text

The water was shockingly frigid when they hit, and the cook struggled to maintain his grip on the swordsman in the fast moving river.

As dangerous as the current was, the water was somewhere even the most powerful Devil Fruit users could not go. He blue walked downstream, swimming nearly as fast as a fishman as his numbing fingers dug into Zoro's collar.

Just ahead, Sanji could hear a great roar, and he caught a glimpse of a cycling curtain of agitated bubbles in front of him. A mouthful of air erupted from the horrified cook in a gurgling underwater shout, and he of leapt out of the water like a flying fish, positioning his fall so Zoro landed on top of him as they skidded onto the shore, leaving deep scars in the sand.

The cook threw his gaze down the massive waterfall that they were nearly swept over and saw a jagged maw of treacherous rocks below.

"Just what kind of shitty trial is this?" he grumbled under his breath, groaning under Zoro's water-weighted body.

The cook leveraged his arm under the swordsman's collar bone and lifted his head to look into his pale face. Drops of water from his spiky green hair plopped on Sanji's skin as he felt for breathing with the back of his hand. The cook relaxed a bit as he detected a tickle of air. He sat up slowly and the swordsman sank limply into his lap.

"Zoro! Wake up, marimo!" Sanji lightly smacked his cheeks, trying to rouse him, but the green-haired man was out cold.

"Shit!" Sanji cursed as he examined the swordsman's broad, burned chest and saw he was still bleeding out. "If only Chopper were here!"

The cook raised his head to see if he could find any kind of aid, anything at all. He spotted a small cabin peeking out of the foliage in the forest at the base of the waterfall, so he scooped up Zoro and threw him over his shoulder.

The heavy oak door was unlocked, so he exploded into the tiny home.

"Hello?" The sopping wet cook yelled as he barged in, a puddle of river water growing underneath them on the flagstone floor. The wooden home was basically one room with small partitions for the living room, bedroom, and kitchen, but it was inviting and comfortable, full of plush cushions and soft bedding.

Sanji received no reply, so he hoisted the soggy swordsman onto the tall bed in the corner. Zoro groaned and shivered, and the cook dashed to the kitchen to find something to stem the bleeding. While he was searching for towels, he stumbled upon a small package on the sink with his name scrawled on it. He ripped open the mysterious envelope and something cylindrical rolled into his palm.

It was a gold-rimmed wooden hourglass. He quickly read the hand-written note with it, then squeezed the hourglass so hard it creaked.

Zoro opened his eye. "Oi...cook?" he coughed out, his mouth tasting of copper. His face contorted as excruciating pain gnawed at his body, but his mind was focused on what had happened. He had lost, and it was much more painful to him than the agonizing injuries.

"Two years of training, and I'm still weak," he growled, disgusted. He heard Sanji sigh, then pad over to him with bare feet. The cook sat next to him on the bed.

"Idiot! You shouldn't have gotten in front of me. I don't need saving, you ass! And they weren't exactly playing by real world rules, marimo. I saw your swords pass right through Kizaru even though they were covered in Haki. This situation was planned," Sanji's voice was steeped in disgust as he uncrumpled the paper and held it up for Zoro to read.

"If you kiss your crew mate until the hourglass runs out, he will be fully healed."

The swordsman's eye went round as he scanned the instructions, then frowned at the glint of the wood and glass he glimpsed in Sanji's tightening grip.

"Don't do it. I've been hurt worse than this before and I'll be fine," Zoro said as smoothly as possible, trying to keep any hint of discomfort from seeping into his tone.

"I know that you've been hurt worse. I've seen you almost die, damn it! We live dangerous lives, but that doesn't make it any easier to see one of us get hurt!" Sanji snapped acidly, his eye burning into the swordsman like the blue center of a superheated flame.

"Which is what makes this so hard." He strangled the note in his hand as he spoke.

"Hard as in you wouldn't know what to do if you kissed me again and felt something for me?" Zoro clenched a fistful of the thick blanket under him, quelling waves of stinging pain, then reached out and rested his hand on Sanji's thigh.

Their eyes met, and a jolt of something raw and intimate sparked between them like an arc of electricity. A bright red blush danced across Sanji's pale skin, and he dropped his face into his hands and rubbed vigorously, cursing through his fingers. Zoro could see the cook was like a fraying knot, ready to snap.

"You're right, I don't know what to fucking do! Not only are you a man, but you're the guy who less than 24 hours ago I thought I hated and who hated me right back. Every minute I spend alone with you takes me further away from everything normal that I planned on going back to! I should be getting the hell away from you, not kissing you for extended periods of time."

He suddenly shifted to get up and brushed against Zoro, who winced with a stifled cry. The cook looked back in horror.

"You're in more pain than you're letting on, you shitty bastard," Sanji observed angrily, and he stood and shucked off his soggy suit coat and tie, letting them drop to the floor with a wet slap.

"I'm fine!" Zoro stubbornly insisted.

"You're about to be better. Like hell I'm going to let one of my nakama suffer, even you." Sanji slammed the hourglass over on the nightstand and leaned over him.

Sanji tenuously drew his face in closer until the just tips of their noses were touching. The cook's body was quivering, and Zoro could hear the other man's beating heart playing a soft melody for him in the tranquil quiet of their discovered haven. Sanji pressed his mouth gingerly against his, as if taking a small taste of an unfamiliar flavor.

The burning pain instantly subsided, and Zoro covertly dropped a hand down to check his injuries. He grinned into the kiss as he found he was already completely healed, and silently thanked whoever decided to let him enjoy this.

The invigorated swordsman wasn't about to be satisfied by such a timid effort from his rival. He began to move in gentle, eager strokes across Sanji's mouth. The cook exhaled harshly through his nose and he clawed his fingers through Zoro's soft, spiky green hair, his pace quickening as he leveraged his nakama's head forward to bring their mouths together even more completely.

Zoro lightly swept the tip of his tongue over the cook's lips, then entered between them into the hot interior of his mouth, rubbing over the softly textured surface of his tongue.

Sanji responded with a low moan, sliding his tongue back against the other man's. His breaths came in shuddering bursts as he crawled over the swordsman's body, suggestively sliding one knee up Zoro's inner thigh. The cook's sensitive fingers disappeared into the warmth of his green coat, rubbing over the muscular structure of his solid chest and dragging his nimble fingertips over his jagged scar. Sanji flinched as he remembered the swordsman's wounds.

The cook sat up and carefully examined Zoro's healed body, peeling back the folds of his waterlogged robe before checking on the spent hourglass.

The swordsman grabbed Sanji's wrist before he could leave. "Cook…" he began, trying to figure out what to say to his nakama to convince him to continue.

"The time's run out, but you're not completely healed yet," Sanji interrupted.

Zoro patted himself down and found himself whole, then raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Right here." The cook leaned forward and ran his thumb across a small slash that streaked across his cheek.

"I just can't leave this unfinished, Zoro," he whispered, flipping the timer once again.

The swordsman's mouth dropped. He searched Sanji's face and found his ocean blue eye aflame with need, and the instant they made eye contact Zoro knew that they both wanted the same thing.

He couldn't help himself any longer. Zoro dug his fingers into the cook's hips and rolled them both over, flipping their positions and pinning a surprised Sanji underneath his weight.

"I'm tired of these wet clothes," he breathed as his hands went to work unbuttoning Sanji's clinging gold shirt. He peeled it off with the cook's help and flung it on the floor. His good eye traced over the blond man's lean, defined chest and toned, bare stomach, which rose and fell even more quickly as Zoro's hands began to hungrily caress his body.

Sanji reached up and yanked on Zoro's burned and torn robe, jerking it roughly off of his shoulders. The green-haired man unwound his dark red sash and ran down the line undoing his buttons. The fabric parted, and Sanji was quick to send it sailing off the side of the bed with their other wet, haphazardly strewn clothes.

Sanji pushed the banded green haramaki up Zoro's torso as he copiously groped his heart-stopping abs and firm chest, placing messy kisses over the sutured scar that slashed dramatically down his body.

As the cook lifted the swordsman's haramaki over his head, a small rectangular box fell out of it and smacked him square in the face.

"What the hell?" Sanji exclaimed in confusion as he rubbed his forehead.

"Shit. Sorry, that's really nothing," Zoro spoke quickly, making a grab for the box that he had completely forgotten about.

It was too late. Sanji had already opened up the lid. A gleaming Doskoi Panda chef's knife shone from the box like treasure. The cook's eyes flew open, his curly eyebrow leaping up his creasing forehead.

"This is for me, isn't it?" Sanji pulled the knife from the box, running a finger over raised panda logo cast into the metal on the handle. He lightly flicked his thumb across the edge, then raised it up to the light like he was examining a jewel.

"How the hell did you get this? A knife like this costs as much as a sword, you bastard!" he exclaimed, turning it over in his hands with a slight flush to his cheeks.

"Uh, I was just looking at it in this store and all this extra money suddenly appeared in my pocket," Zoro quickly explained as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Sanji placed the knife back in the box and stared silently at it, his fingers curling around the precious gift. Zoro watched him carefully ferry it over to the dresser, then reach up to circle his arms around his neck. His gold earrings trickled over Sanji's face as the cook placed a few soft kisses on his throat, his goatee lightly tickling his skin.

"I'm so fucked, marimo," Sanji chuckled bitterly under his breath, pulling Zoro closer and hanging onto him like his life depended on it. He was trembling.

Zoro's eye widened, and he haltingly brought a hand up to rest on Sanji's bare shoulder. To be honest, he was feeling pretty fucked himself. This was progressing far past the emotional territory of a casual fling or simple one night stand.

The urgency for each other's touch was burning through them a hell of a lot hotter than it should have, the flames fed by a fuel infinitely more potent than just lust alone. He wondered what Sanji would do if the absolutely insane things that were precariously balanced on his tongue slipped from his mouth. It was one thing to want to share someone's bed. It was quite another to want to share their life.

Yes, he was fucked.

"I need you to do me a favor, before I think about it too much and change my mind," Sanji's deep voice was a velvet wisp that made the green-haired man's skin prickle with goosebumps.

"A favor?" Zoro asked cautiously.

"Show me how to make love to a man," he said in the barest whisper.

Chapter Text

The bottom dropped out from Zoro's stomach as the fluttery sensation of falling spiked in his chest. Before he realized it, his hands were running wild across Sanji's skin. He could feel his crew mate's pulse drumming under his fingertips as he pushed him back down on the mattress.

Zoro had never been so turned on in his life, and the rest of their clothes had to go. Now.

He dove in for another taste of Sanji's lips as he hooked a finger on his pants, giving a little tug. Without breaking the frantic kiss, the cook unhooked his belt and slid it out of his waistband, then roughly shoved it into the swordsman's chest.

"Just...don't put it in me, ok?" Sanji managed to voice, his shoulders shuddering as his breaths fluttered in warm bursts on Zoro's cheek.

"I won't," he assured the cook, sending the belt clanking on the stone floor. Zoro's hand teasingly brushed the hard bulge in between Sanji's legs while he took his time unzipping his fly.

Zoro coaxed the cook's hips up as he stripped the pants and boxers off of his slender legs at the same time. His keen eye devoured Sanji's slender, exposed body, cataloging everything he wanted to touch, kiss, claim as his.

As the swordsman hastily kicked his own pants away, they hit against the dresser and a few small glass bottles on top of it fell over with a shrill set of clanks. He threw his head back at the glassware in annoyance, but froze as recognition sparked in his eye. He scrambled over to the dresser with a wide, sake-drinking grin splayed across his face, eagerly reading the labels and snatching up a few.

"What's that all about?" Sanji grimaced, lifting a curly eyebrow.

"Necessities, cook," Zoro explained, tossing him a bottle.

"Personal lubricant," Sanji read, then flashed him a dark look. "You said you wouldn't!"

"I keep my promises," Zoro said firmly, his eyebrows diving down in a half-lidded, sensual glare.

He opened a second bottle and rubbed a little of a light, exotic-smelling oil in between his fingertips as he crawled to Sanji's awaiting form. The cook openly stared, captivated by Zoro's naked, aroused body as he drew near. The swordsman crouched over Sanji, his hand gently massaging up and down the backs of the cook's thighs as he coaxed his legs apart.

Sanji sucked in a sharp breath as the swordsman wrapped his hand around him, working the oil down his entire length with smooth, gentle strokes. Zoro did the same for himself, then nestled in between the cook's thighs and slid his cock against the other man's, causing waves of shared pleasure to radiate between them.

Sanji squirmed underneath of Zoro, his hands flowing across the other man's shoulder blades as he eagerly leaned into each push of the swordsman's hips. Zoro's thrusts kept rolling, painting the cook with swaths of room-spinning pleasure as he guided his hips towards his rival's most sensitive areas. He flattened Sanji against mattress as he grinded against him, then found his lips and covered them with wild kisses, his body surging against the other man again and again like the surf breaking on the shore.

"You're going to make me come, shitty bastard," Sanji panted as he threw his head to the side, squeezing his eye shut.

Zoro came to a sudden halt, then bent down to Sanji's ear. "I'd rather have you come inside of me, cook," he whispered in a low voice that was as smooth as satin sheets against bare skin.

"Idiot! What the hell are you thinking?!" Sanji blurted out, raising up on his elbows and looking at Zoro like he was about to drop over that rushing waterfall. A thin line of red ran from one of his nostrils.

"You did say you wanted to make love to me, and you don't want to bottom. How else I am going to satisfy you, shit cook?" The swordsman's lips suddenly joined with his, pressing a fierce, thrilling kiss on his mouth. He roughly pulled away with a smear of Sanji's blood on his upper lip.

The blond cringed and wiped his nosebleed with the back of his hand, flashing Zoro an apologetic look. The swordsman followed his eye and grinned smugly. With all the sensuality Sanji never knew his rival had, Zoro locked eyes with him in a sinful stare and swept his tongue across his upper lip, making several passes until it was licked clean.

"Tastes good," he remarked, the tip of his tongue flicking briefly over his lips again as if searching for more. "Do the ladies like you bleeding on them as much as I do?"

"A-asshole…" Electric shivers crept up and down Sanji's entire body, sweat slicking on his burning face.

Zoro snorted, looking incredibly pleased with himself. He picked up the other bottle and pressed it into the cook's palm. "Start with one finger," he told him, then rolled on his back next to him, his legs tented.

Sanji warily positioned himself in the space between Zoro's legs, then shook a little of the clear gel into his hand. He hesitated.

The swordsman knit his eyebrows as he sat up. This was obviously the cook's first time with a man, and Zoro imagined he was having to leap some pretty tall mental hurdles just to be in this position. He calmly took Sanji by his elbow and led him in between his spread legs.

"Just try it. If you hate it, we can stop. You're not going to hurt me, so don't hold back," he urged.

Sanji mutely nodded. He tentatively began rubbing small circles of lube on him, and the swordsman jerked slightly as he dipped in the tip of a single finger, gradually pushing past the tight corridors of muscle. He began to carefully move deeper when Zoro nodded, slowly inching in all the way up to the knuckle.

"Add another," Zoro directed, and he closed his eye as he felt the sting of being stretched again, his body slowly yielding to the cook.

Soon, Sanji was working three fingers into him, and the moment that the swordsman felt ready he gestured for the cook to stop.

Zoro reached out and grasped gently onto Sanji's waist, encouraging him to creep closer. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the snaking red thread shifting on the bed beside them as Sanji kneeled. He heard the squeak of a cork, and after a long pause, nimble fingers spread a warm line of the lube on him.

The cook parted Zoro's legs, and the swordsman shifted his hips up to give him better access. He felt the cook spread him open, then the gentle pressure of the tip of Sanji's cock as he lined himself up.

"You sure about this?" the cook asked breathlessly.

Chills swept over Zoro's body as he peered up at his face, which radiated with the warmth of genuine concern for him.

This was going to be way more than a simple fuck.

With his heart fluttering embarrassingly with each touch, Zoro knew this was exactly how one got attached. But right now, he wanted, needed his idiotic, curly-browed, bad-tempered cook to be closer to him than he ever had been before.

"I'm sure," Zoro responded, nodding resolutely, dangerous emotions be damned.

With a trembling hand wrapped around his length, Sanji gradually fed himself into the swordsman's body, the slippery lube helping him glide past the snug opening with a slight jolt forward as his entire head finally slid inside.

Zoro squeezed his eye shut and bit his lip at the sharp burn of Sanji's erection as it stretched him in ways that fingers never could. The cook paused, and the swordsman relaxed for a moment, allowing himself time to adjust to the intrusion.

"Are you clenching down on me on purpose, you bastard?" the other man said angrily as he gasped for air.

Zoro lifted an amused eyebrow. "I'm not clenching at all, cook, that's just the way it is," he promised.

Sanji cursed, then pressed forward, his cock disappearing bit by bit as he burrowed deeper into the heat far inside the swordsman. Zoro shuddered as he felt the cook's thighs softly bump against his ass as he was finally buried completely within him.

"Is this ok?" Sanji whispered, sweat raining in sheets down his face.

"It's good. Keep going," the swordsman beckoned.

The cook began to move, withdrawing and plunging into him again, his fingers making dents as he clung onto the swordsman's thighs.

"Shit, you feel so good, Zoro, it's like you're sucking me off," Sanji whimpered, his eye flicking over the other man's bare, sculpted body through the hazy, heavy-lidded curtain of desire.

"It's so damn hot having you inside me," the swordsman replied, his fingers reaching up and spilling across the cook's pale, toned chest. He pulled the other man's head down to him, painting a long kiss in vivid shades of rarely seen affection across his lips like a sweeping brushstroke over a canvas.

Sanji made a pleased noise, his lips curling up mischievously as he angled his flexible hips and dragged the tip of his cock inside of the swordsman on the hunt for something. He grabbed the other man's ass and bent him forward, causing Zoro's feet to hang in the air behind him.

Zoro felt a pressure and sucked in a breath. "What are you...?!" he blurted out in absolute shock as he realized what the cook was doing.

With a flick of his hips, Sanji slammed straight into his prostate, and Zoro writhed underneath him, burying his face in his arms.

"Found it," the cook breathed out triumphantly. "I had a lady do this to me once, marimo. Well, not exactly like this," he explained, smirking.

The cook was unrelenting as he made it a point to nudge that spot over and over again until Zoro was moaning into a pillow and had tears streaming from his eye.

"How hot is it having me inside you now?" Sanji mouthed off arrogantly, punctuating it with another shove into the swordsman's shivering body.

"Just wait until I get a hold of you, you bastard," Zoro groaned as he muffled another low wail with his hand. "I'm going to make you scream."

Sanji yanked up on Zoro's jaw and messily pressed his lips on the other man. The swordsman's fingers roamed across the cook's naked back, drifting to his ass, where his hands palmed Sanji's shifting muscles as they raised then flattened as he pushed into him in surging strokes.

Sanji captured his wrists, vexingly pressing them flat against the mattress.

"I win," he murmured coyly into the swordsman's ear.

Zoro growled and crossed his legs behind Sanji's hips, rolling them both over with the cook trapped inside of him. He roughly slammed him against the headboard, the wood cracking loudly.

Sanji huffed indignantly, then a devilish grin spread across his face.

"Franky would kill us both if we pulled this kind of shit on the Sunny," he said, his hand wrapping around the leaning, broken bed post and wiggling it back and forth.

The swordsman's stomach flip flopped, elation wrapping warmly around his heart like a soft blanket at the prospect of continuing this in the real world. And breaking things while doing so.

Zoro leaned close towards the other pirate, their parted lips hovering over one another as he began to ride him. He lifted off of the blond's lap, sitting back down on his cock until it disappeared completely, gravity allowing Zoro to envelop the cook's entire length each time.

"Fuck you, marimo," Sanji groaned loudly, and he began bucking up into Zoro's ass from underneath.

"Who wins now?" Zoro proclaimed.

In a flash, the cook snatched Zoro's back side up and flexibly bent himself into a position to reach the spot that had caused the swordsman the curl up tighter than his eyebrow. Sanji mercilessly skyrocketed into that miraculous place again, and the swordsman practically melted in his lap.

"Damn it, cook, you're going to make me-" Zoro froze as Sanji began caressing up and down his cock.

"Shit, you're excited," Sanji murmured, his thumb finding his head and rubbing across it, spreading the tiny bead of come that had accumulated there in tight, stimulating circles.

"I win," the cook whispered, finding his crew mate's mouth and claiming it, slipping his tongue inside and drinking in the swordsman's quiet moans as they rang from his throat.

The room was spinning, and Zoro suddenly realized he had stopped moving. He was leaning forward in Sanji's lap, his eye squeezed tightly shut as his hands clamped in a death grip around the cook's shoulders.

"It must feel good," Sanji whispered, his sapphire eye half closed in satisfaction as his other hand cupped Zoro's cheek.

Zoro nodded mutely, his senses in overload. How the hell had he let this happen? He was the one supposed to be schooling Sanji, not the other way around. When had the cook gotten this kind of power over him?

Sanji lightly slapped Zoro's thigh. "Get up, marimo, I want to be on top. I don't think either of us is going to last much longer."

They separated for a brief moment as Zoro rolled on his back, and Sanji eased himself deep between his thighs again.

"Can I come inside?" Sanji murmured, his hand leisurely stroking up and down Zoro's dick.

"Fuck yes," the swordsman breathed emphatically, throbbing pulses of pure euphoria radiating from his soul mate's touch. "Come until you're dry, cook."

Zoro spread his knees wider apart for the him, and one of Sanji's hands tickled down the inside of his thigh and weighted his leg open, greedily claiming every inch of bare skin that his crew mate could offer him.

He raised his lower body up for Sanji, and the cook's hands slipped under his knees, resting Zoro's legs on his shoulders and pulling him possessively up to him in a nearly vertical angle as he repeatedly filled him from above.

Zoro's back arched and he let out a low, open-mouthed groan as the cook skimmed the orgasmic spot inside again. He writhed underneath Sanji, all dignity forgotten.

Sanji hummed, a bead of sweat trailing through the curl of his eyebrow as he watched the proud man sprawled out underneath him.

The cook's hand worked even faster, riding the sensitive vein on the underside of Zoro's cock with a stiff finger and dancing his thumb across his tip. Sanji bit his cheek, trying to delay the climb to his own release.

Zoro covered his face with his hands to muffle a moan as Sanji pushed perfectly into him again, his hand still going wild over his dick.

"Come," the cook lulled in a dark, sultry tone. Sanji leaned forward and met the other man's parted mouth in a sweaty, intoxicating kiss.

Zoro felt the heat build up in his belly as the sensations the cook was drawing from him ascended into the sublime, as if each the touch was multiplied a thousandfold. The swordsman felt like he was falling, dizzy and lightheaded. He threw his hips up, urgently fucking Sanji's hand as he flung an arm over his face.

"Come, marimo," the cook coaxed, flying up and down his cock with an unrelenting hand.

The rising pressure was almost unbearable, like a dam blocking a raging river, ready to crumble and explode at any moment. Zoro's feet made furrows in the blankets as his lower body bent upwards into Sanji's enveloping grip.

With one last pump of Sanji's fist, Zoro's muscles spasmed in ecstasy as the pent-up torrent was finally unleashed, shooting out warm spurts of come that splattered across the cook's chest like an abstract painting.

"Shit, this shouldn't be so hot," Sanji whispered brokenly, his heart beating madly in his ears as his own pace faltered.

The blond's knees shook uncontrollably as he slowly sank into the other man a few last times. Zoro grabbed Sanji's forearms to steady him as he teetered over him, the cook's eyes squeezed tightly shut under his sweaty bangs as the tidal wave of his intense climax broke over him. The swordsman felt a rush of heat spreading inside of him as Sanji spilled himself deep within.

The cook rode out his orgasm with trembling shudders until his limbs became rubbery and he had completely emptied himself inside the other man.

"So damn good, you bastard," Sanji mumbled, dragging himself out of Zoro's body and falling limply on the bed beside him with a sharp bounce of the mattress.

Chapter Text

After a few dizzy minutes waiting for their hearts to stop racing at breakneck speeds, Zoro ringed an arm around Sanji's neck and brought his head to his chest.

"I'm covered in come," Sanji mumbled a warning.

"Me too. I feel like I'm swimming in it," the swordsman grunted, pulling the sticky cook closer. Zoro's eyelid was becoming heavy as he bathed in the afterglow.

The cook's shoulders tensed. "Yeah, sorry about that."

"Quiet. If I didn't want it, I wouldn't have let you do it," Zoro told him firmly.

Sanji turned onto his side towards Zoro, the whole length of his body now casually draped over the swordsman with the kind of physical familiarity one earns by experiencing another's body over and over.

"I would kill for a cigarette. Mine got ruined when we jumped in the river," the cook sighed with disappointment.

"I guess these are for you, then," Zoro said as he reached lazily over to the dresser and handed him a black pack of "Death" brand cigarettes and a lighter that had materialized there.

"Those weren't there before, were they? That's kind of creepy," Sanji grimaced, peeling open the box's lid and lighting one, his head nestled on Zoro's shoulder.

Smoke lifted from Sanji's cigarette like a curling tail of fog as he stared at the ceiling in deep thought. His fingertips slowly crept along the raised line of Zoro's long scar as he took another pull of the soothing smoke.

"You got this on the day we first met," Sanji mused, the tension melting from his limbs as the side of his face fell on Zoro's warm, bare skin.

"That annoying cook who told me to forget my dreams has grown on me a bit more since then," the swordsman grinned.

"Mm, well I've been getting along awfully well with a certain musclehead swordsman as of late," Sanji said slyly, making the other man chuckle.

The cook smoked for a while, then wordlessly handed the butt of his dying cigarette to the swordsman, who ground it out on the stone floor beside the bed.

"We probably shouldn't have slept together, marimo," Sanji drowsily mumbled as he pulled a blanket over them, turning Zoro's broad chest into his personal pillow.

"Probably not," the half-awake swordsman agreed, squeezing Sanji as close as he could to him, his large hand falling over the cook's waist as they both drifted to sleep.

Zoro's eye batted open as the heavenly scent of food woke him to his senses. He crawled out of the bed, frowning at the globs of his release drying on his scarred, naked chest.

From the stove, Sanji swiveled his head to look over his shoulder. He was dressed in a long, lapis blue yukata robe with a swirling school of colorful fish swimming up from the bottom hem.

"Go get cleaned up. Dinner will be ready soon," Sanji ordered, pointing to the bathroom.

Zoro looked over at the cook and caught a satisfying glimpse of the new Doskoi Panda knife in his hand. He yawned contentedly as he shuffled into the spacious, stone tiled bathroom and took a long shower, doing his best to clean out the remains of Sanji's orgasm that was still draining from him.

In the privacy of the shower, he leaned his forehead against the green-flecked stone and exhaled a long sigh.

He let out a quiet laugh at the absurdity of it all. He had fucked the shit cook, the man who hated him. The guy who he thought couldn't stand the sight of him was currently making him after-sex dinner.

It had been the brand of incredible sex that would continue to swirl around in his memories, popping back up in his fantasies during those lonely midnight watch duties.

It was also the kind of deeply intimate lovemaking that kindled even deeper feelings.

And shit, was Zoro ever feeling them.

He ended the shower with a shot of cold water to shock him back to reality, then toweled off. Hanging on a nearby hook was a dark green yukata with a white dragon snaking around the base of the fabric. Nodding with approval, he slipped it on, then joined the cook in the kitchen.

Sanji spared him a glance as he brought plates of food to the heavy wooden table, then motioned for the swordsman to sit.

The fragrant, nostalgic food sang an irresistible siren song to Zoro. The cook had made a hearty brown curry and rice with tonkatsu, slivered cabbage, seaweed salad, miso soup, onigiri, and even more samplings in tiny ceramic bowls that were neatly arranged on the table. It was something you'd see served for a nice dinner in the dojo, and the swordsman couldn't wait to dig in.

"I figured you'd want some comfort food," Sanji explained, grabbing an elegant-looking bottle and pouring them each a sake cup of the silvery liquid.

"I think you'll really like it, marimo, I tried a bit of it earlier," the cook sank down in his chair, taking a slow sip of the sake.

The boyish grin Zoro always tried to hide returned in full force as he savored a mouthful of the fine sake. He hopped from dish to dish, sampling everything and closing his eye in pleasure. Somehow, it all tasted even more delicious than the cook's daily meals. It was the kind of comforting, memory-evoking supper you'd make for your lover when they'd had a bad day.

"The onigiri have sweet red bean paste in them, so they're almost like a dessert without being too sweet," Sanji explained as he leaned on the table, smoking. He had hardly touched his own food, but he watched the green-haired man eat with rapt attention.

"Oi, you should eat," Zoro urged, setting down his soup bowl.

"I will," he nodded, smiling wistfully.

"You've never cooked for just me before," the swordsman commented, taking another swig of sake.

"Not for just you, no," Sanji confirmed, moving to politely top off the other man's drink.

"I've never said...about your food…" Zoro looked like he was rolling the words around in his mouth until the right ones found his tongue.

"That is...If you're trying to impress me, cook, you've succeeded," he said softly.

Zoro never thought he'd ever give Sanji a compliment, but then again, their relationship was changing at lightning speed.

Sanji dropped his fork on his plate with a clank and grabbed the back of Zoro's neck, pulling him in for an intense, mind-melting kiss. As he pulled away, the swordsman could see the flush of alcohol on his cheeks.

"It's damn good, isn't it?" the cook breathed, his half-closed eye ravenously boring into Zoro like he was the dish he wanted to devour.

"I could use another taste," Zoro's voice dipped into a low, velvety tone as he stared hungrily at Sanji.

"Then eat," Sanji pushed his plate towards him, his rich laugh warming the room.

After dinner, they fell into the pillowy bed together in their yukatas, utterly spent. Zoro leaned against a bank of pillows, sucking down another bottle of sake. The swordsman didn't get drunk easily, but tonight he was feeling rather rosy, his face hot.

"I don't even want to think about how I'll feel about all of this tomorrow," Sanji said, a pink flush fanning out over his face. A small smile played at the corners of his mouth, a product of multiple glasses of sake during dinner, plus a bit more while cooking it.

"Me neither," Zoro replied. He sprawled out on his back, meditatively tracing the patterns of the wood grain in the ceiling, his mind a ship sailing distant seas.

Sanji grabbed the bottle from the swordsman's hand and took a generous swig, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"So you're really gay?" the cook asked bluntly, his eye trained on the swordsman as he brought his cigarette to his lips.

"Whatever gave you that idea, shit cook?" Zoro replied smugly, snatching the bottle back and knocking back a drink.

"Shut the hell up, marimo. I'm just surprised because you never acted like it," Sanji mused, swirling smoke in his mouth and blowing a feathery ring skyward.

Zoro barked out a laugh. "How the hell am I supposed to act?"

"I don't know. Do you do anything gay?" the cook asked, his words touched with the barest hint of a tipsy slur.

"There was this one time I fucked another dude," the swordsman said dryly.

Sanji flashed him an annoyed look.

"What? That's it, cook. Although I once went into this expensive shop and bought a kitchen knife for a straight man I thought was hot," Zoro answered, rolling onto his side to face Sanji. They both laughed.

"You're kind of stupid about all of this, curly cue," Zoro grinned as Sanji glowered at him.

"Asshole. I've never had to think about this kind of thing before," the cook muttered, his spiral eyebrows knitting together.

"More like you've been avoiding it up until tonight," the swordsman replied.

Sanji stared through Zoro, distracted for a few moments.

"What was tonight to you, marimo?" he asked.

The swordsman's eye snapped open at the unexpected question. Tonight, they had gotten physical, but Zoro wanted more than that. An empty hole gaped inside his chest, a need so deep it seemed bottomless. The feeling was shameful, really. Weak. But as a person who tried to do everything very intentionally, he had chosen to give into weakness, just this once. Only for Sanji.

He ran the risk of ruining everything, but the lull of good sake and even better sex took over the controls of Zoro's brain. His heart pounded in his chest as he looked over at the handsome, vexing man awaiting his reply.

"Cook."

"Mmm?" Sanji intoned, his uncovered blue eye falling on him.

"I think I'm in love with you," Zoro said quietly.

Sanji was absolutely still for an eternity of a moment, a crimson blush spreading across his face. The red thread between them trembled.

"You love me," he repeated in disbelief.

Zoro nodded, gritting his teeth.

The cook sat straight up. "I should kick your ass for this, you shitty moss-headed bastard! Just when I thought things couldn't get any more complicated!" he complained, frustration burning through his drowsiness and stupor from the alcohol.

"I'm out of here. Trial over," he spoke angrily as he tore out of bed, Zoro's hopes falling to the floor like their wet clothing.

"What the hell is wrong with you, cook? Where do you think you're going to go?" the swordsman demanded irritably. "Just take a damn breath."

"What's wrong with me? You're in love with me, bastard!" The cook yelled, pacing back and forth across the floor.

"And as much as I'm trying, I can't stop it from making me feel things I shouldn't! You've ruined me, marimo! I wish today never happened," he added bitterly, lighting another cigarette and taking a deep drag.

Zoro jumped out of bed and stalked towards the cook with renewed purpose. "Neither of us know how the hell today happened," he said. The swordsman backed the cook against a wall and pressed his rough palms on the wooden beams on either side of Sanji's head. "But I know that we're both glad it did."

"I'm about to kick your ass across the room, marimo," Sanji warned, his tone steely.

"Then kick me," Zoro challenged impassively, snatching the cook's cigarette out of his mouth and rubbing it out on the wall.

"Oi, jackass! Don't think I won't-" Sanji's words were kissed out of his mouth as Zoro leaned into him, flattening him against the wall and interlacing their fingers.

Sanji tasted a pleasant combination of his cooking and sake on the other man's lips as he flowed over him, unhurried. The cook squeezed the swordsman's hands, fully under the spell of the worshipful kiss. Zoro broke away, breathing heavily as he leaned his forehead against the other man's.

"If you feel like giving this a shot, there's only two things I need. This," Zoro ran a hand in between Sanji's legs, causing him to draw in an open-mouthed breath.

"Bastard…" The cook growled irately.

"And more importantly...this." He put his hand flat over the cook's heart, feeling the rhythm quicken under his fingertips.

"If those two things are mine, I don't care how many mermaids you flirt with, or desserts you serve, or nosebleeds you have. That's who you are. You're a guy who loves women. But I want the you that you can't be when you're with a woman," he whispered.

Sanji's red face deepened a shade darker. "You can't just claim parts of me, idiot! We're not even together yet!"

"Yet?" Zoro raised an eyebrow.

"I meant never. Now get off," he snapped.

Zoro backed off, then yawned. "We should sleep. I promise I won't jump you or anything."

"If you do, next time I kick you it'll be right in the balls." Sanji crept slowly back to the bed, sinking into the plush mattress and facing away from the swordsman. The cook lay there for a moment, trying to catch hold of his wild thoughts.

"Are you really the kind of man who would let his lover flirt with other people in front of him?" Sanji asked, looking into the kitchen at the countertop where the beautiful knife Zoro got him lay.

"I would be lying if I said it wouldn't get on my nerves, but I'd be stupid to try to change you. Besides, you're hardly serious when you flirt. Go have fun with the mermaids, curly brow. Then come back and have better fun with me," he mumbled, half asleep.

Sanji's arms wrapped around the tail of the fluffy comforter, drawing it to his chest. "Good night, marimo," he told him, his voice colored by a hint of melancholy.

Zoro extinguished the lamp and nestled into the covers. Sleep came surprisingly easily, soothed by the sound of Sanji's steady breathing beside him.

Chapter Text

The cook was gone the next morning when Zoro woke. It hadn't been unexpected, but he still felt his heart squeeze in his chest as his fingers sleepily flopped over the cold patch where he had once been.

He sat up, bleary eyed, shaking a hand through his tousled green hair. In the kitchen, a plate of fresh onigiri and fruit had been left on the counter. He opened the folded piece of paper that had been left beside it.

"Sorry marimo, I'm not interested. Talk to anyone about last night and I will kick you directly in the balls with my foot on fire. There is a bento in the fridge for lunch."

Zoro snorted a cynical laugh at the letter and helped himself to a mouthful of onigiri, uncorking what remained of last night's sake and drinking straight from the bottle, draining it dry. He was feeling strangely calm at this new development, possibly because yesterday had been such a boon and the cook's note was so absolutely ridiculous.

Yesterday. He still couldn't believe it had actually happened.

Shaking the intense memories of warm, milky skin that had already made him half hard, Zoro stomped into the bedroom area to see how wet his clothes still were and tripped over a pile of fabric. It was Sanji's blue yukata. His eyes slid over to their hastily shed clothes from yesterday to find his damp suit and gold shirt. Either the cook was running around naked or he had found other clothes here.

Zoro combed the drawers and came upon a wardrobe in the living room area with the door already open. Inside hung a single black suit and pressed white shirt.

"You've got to be kidding me," he groaned.

Normally, he'd just put his wet robe right back on but it smelled pretty bad, even to him. He put the suit on as best he could and caught a glimpse of himself in a full length mirror that hung near the bathroom.

The brushed black material was form fitting, with sleek tailored lines more suited to a runway than a business meeting. It came with no tie, so he let the snowy collared shirt drape open, revealing just a peek of the scar on his chest. He even tucked it in, figuring it would save him from hearing the cook bitch at him for looking like a slob or something when he caught up to him.

It was close enough to lunch that he ate the intricate bento in the kitchen, and he noticed that the knife he gave Sanji yesterday was missing. A cunning grin spread across his lips. It was time to find his little lost cook. His eye traced down the crimson cord that wound around his pinky. What could be easier than following a stupid string?

Sanji awkwardly tugged on the belt loops of his form-fitting jeans as he climbed the steps to the temple. That and a soft charcoal-colored t-shirt were all he could find after scouring the entire cabin, and he had been scowling the whole way there because of it.

He ascended the steps and quickly located Rikka. After a heart-filled, compliment-strewn greeting, the cook settled and became very serious.

"Rikka-chan, I wanted to talk to you about getting out of here. I want to skip the rest of the trials and just live with the thread," the cook said gently.

Rikka sighed, her shoulders drooping. Her large, slate-colored eyes focused on the alcove where the high priestess meditated, motionless.

"We're not going to keep you here against your will, but you should really complete them for Zoro's sake, so he has an opportunity to have his thread hidden. I don't think even my word will be enough to convince my boss to hide it after the deal you two made with the goddess," she explained, her voice tight with worry.

"I'm so sorry Rikka-chan," Sanji said gently, shaking his head. "I have to get out of here. I can't get attached to him like this. I want a normal life with a lady someday."

The blond girl's eyes flew open and she began shaking with barely contained rage.

"Come with me. Now," she snapped. The teen snatched a fistful of Sanj's shirt and dragged him to a back room of the temple, slamming the door and causing a colorful tapestry to fall off the wall to her feet.

"Rikka-chan? What's wrong? Was it something I said?" Sanji asked rapid fire, honest concern rising in his voice.

"I want you to see something before you make your decision," her light voice spoke with solemn purpose. Rikka slid part of her yukata off of her shoulder, slipping her arm out of it. A bright red stain crept up the cook's face.

The young attendant reached up and unwound something wrapped around her arm. It was a faded crimson rope. As it was freed, it drew up on itself in kinks and bends like an old gnarled tree branch. One end of it trailed off into nothing, while the other end was wrapped around Rikka's pinky.

Sanji gasped.

Zoro had left the cabin initially optimistic about finding Sanji quickly. But soon the path through the forest began twisting in strange directions, eventually disappearing completely, and the red line that connected them seemed to constantly change which direction it was coming from.

After an hour or so, he took a break and flopped down in frustration against a tree in the shade, which just ended up making him very sleepy.

"Isn't this trial going to end soon, damn priestess?" he lazily mumbled to no one, his eye closed in anticipation of a leisurely nap.

Zoro's hand flew to his swords as folds of fabric rustled in front him. He opened his eye to see a swath of maroon and silver robes swaying in the breath of the wind.

"Hold, Roronoa Zoro," the priestess said calmly. "It will take you forever to find the temple on your own, so I've come to collect you."

"Gee, thanks," he sneered, loosening the grip on his katanas. "Where is the cook?"

"Already at the temple. You both have one trial left," she informed him, her black eyes studying his features.

"You can forget it. I don't plan on hiding this thing either way, and I'm sure he's at his limit by now," Zoro yawned as he stood.

"Why not hide the thread? That's why you both came here," she asked, cocking her head to the side.

"Does it matter?" he muttered, his gruff voice steeped in annoyance.

"I can just find it in your thoughts, if you make me curious enough," the priestess threatened with a sly grin.

"Screw you! You've been in our thoughts since we got here, so go find it yourself. I'm sure there hasn't been one second of this damn trial that you haven't been in our minds!" he bristled, pulling a hand roughly through his green hair.

"It is necessary for me to stay connected with your mind while you're here," the high priestess plainly told the grimacing swordsman.

She then closed her eyes, her features settling into a neutral, disconnected expression as she concentrated.

An irritated Zoro harshly exhaled, ready to get back home. He still wasn't sure what type of supernatural force had created the strange, intangible cord, but if they kept the ability to see it, he and the cook would always be able to locate one another. Zoro would never be lost again, as long as the cook could use that bond to find him.

"What's a marimo locator?" the dark-haired woman asked after a few moments had passed, her eyes flashing open with a spark of amusement.

Zoro's face flared a shade pinker. "It's nothing, ok?! Satisfied? Let's get this over with. I need to get back before your island runs out of sake," Zoro griped, putting his hands on his hips.

"You realize Sanji would have to opt not to hide his to be able to locate you," she reminded him.

"So? If that happens, then I'll just find him! I've just gotten used to looking down and seeing him right there, ok?!" Zoro blurted out, his brow furrowing as an irritated vein raised in a branching line on his forehead.

The dark-haired woman's mouth curved into an authentic, proud smile.

"You always unintentionally end up being very romantic, Roronoa, you know that?" she mused, laughing lightly. "I think the reason you're looking for is love."

He blushed furiously, but before he could protest, she touched his shoulder and the world before him dissolved into nothingness.

Sanji gawked in horror at the dying thread of fate that hung by Rikka's side.

"This is what unrequited love looks like, Sanji. If you won't give Zoro your heart, at least spare him this," she pleaded, rewinding the sickly cord up her arm again.

"I'm so sorry, Rikka-chan. What happened?" the cook asked in hushed tones.

"I found my soulmate." Rikka stared off, her eyes unfocused.

"Her family knew about me and wanted her to end it. So she did." A tear escaped the stranglehold she kept on her emotions.

The cook pulled her to his chest in a protective embrace.

"I'm so sorry. Why don't you have the priestess hide it?" Sanji asked.

With her cheek on his chest, Rikka's fingers followed Sanji's arm and picked up his red thread, balancing it in her open hand like she was supporting a resting butterfly.

"Because I wouldn't be able to help people like you and Zoro. I can't see or touch yours if she hides mine," she muttered into the folds of his shirt.

"As you can imagine, you guys have been a special case for me. It's hard in this world for people who are the same sex to be together. I've been working as hard as I can to help give you what I couldn't have," she said with more strength, stepping out of the circle of his arms.

"You're such a sweet lady, Rikka-chan," Sanji said, flashing her a weak smile, a tiny pink heart sparkling in his eye.

"There's one more trial. You don't have to be with him if that's what you wish, but promise me you'll do it so Zoro gets the thread of fate hidden. Not all love fades, Sanji," she told him, rubbing her arm.

Sanji was never one to deny a lady's honest request. "Ok, Rikka-chan. I promise," he vowed.

"I knew I could count on you. I'm going to get your last trial ready, Sanji-kun. Zoro should be around here somewhere by now," Rikka said as she bounded off.

As the cook exited after her, Zoro emerged from where he was standing behind one of the columns and pushed him back into the room.

"Oi! Didn't I say I wasn't interested?" Sanji brushed away his hand, then did a double take. For an unguarded instant his gaze roamed greedily over the swordsman's body. Zoro thought he caught the flicker of a pink heart in the cook's eye.

"I seem to remember a note about a bento," the green-haired man shrugged, wearing a shit-eating grin.

"Where the hell did you get a suit like that? All I found was a t-shirt and jeans," Sanji complained, his gaze skimming the modern, tailored lines that framed Zoro's muscular chest like a work of art. He hastily lit a cigarette, intentionally looking away.

"It was the only clean dry thing in the place," Zoro explained, the corner of his mouth turning up smugly as he saw that they were both having a hard time disguising their enjoyment of the other's appearance.

Normally, Zoro couldn't care less about clothes, but damn, he loved it when Sanji was out of his suit. Tight, dark jeans clung to his legs and a thin v-neck t-shirt hugged his lean, toned frame. The swordsman's eye traced the curve of Sanji's tight ass as he bent over to sweep off a stray bit of cigarette ash that landed on his low-top canvas tennis shoes.

Zoro cleared his throat. "We going home?"

"Not yet. I promised Rikka-chan that we'd do one last trial for her. She thinks it would be best for us to hide the thread, so she wants us to finish," Sanji explained.

"I'm not going to hide it. We should just go home," the swordsman said dispassionately, crossing his arms.

"We can't. We have a promise to fulfill," Sanji told him firmly.

"You made a promise. Don't speak for me unless you want to become part of me, cook," he admonished him, his eyes narrowing.

"Then I won't speak for you! Look, I just want you to forget about everything that has happened here, especially last night," the cook hissed, his curly eyebrow diving low.

"Don't be stupid. Last night changed things...for both of us," he told him, meeting the cook's brick wall of a glare with a poorly disguised expression of longing.

Sanj's heart crumpled like a tin can. "Damn it, shitty marimo!" he shouted in a sudden burst of anger. "It shouldn't have happened! It's your fault that everything's so damn confusing now!"

Zoro rested his warm, battle-worn hands on Sanji's shoulders. "Then make it simple. You're a pirate. Take what you want."

Sanji's impossibly flexible leg suddenly shot up and captured the green-haired man's neck under his foot, pressing him against the wall. "And what if I don't even know what the hell I want anymore?" Sanji yelled, his eye glinting like a shard of jagged blue ice.

Zoro roughly grabbed the cook's leg, twisting it and throwing him to the ground. He crawled over Sanji's body on his hands and knees until he was hovering over him, catching the cook's wrists in his strong grip.

"Then don't forget that I'm a pirate too. And I know exactly what I want," Zoro's throaty baritone voice murmured into his ear.

"You jerk! Why do you always have to practically mount me like that?" Sanji griped, his face flushed.

"If you hate it that much, then tell me to get off," Zoro replied blandly.

"Whatever. I know your poor ego only feels good when you think you're dominating something, jackass," the cook provoked, arrogantly watching the swordsman with a half-closed eye.

Zoro stretched out and pushed the door closed, then kneeled on the ground on either side of Sanji's waist, sitting heavily on his stomach. He loomed over the cook, his eye catching a metallic glow in the golden candlelight.

"What are you doing?" The words spilled from Sanji's mouth as the pace of his excited heart picked up.

"Talking in as much privacy as we can get here," the swordsman replied, his thumb grazing the side of the cook's cheek.

"Look, if you want to talk, then get the hell off," the cook grumbled as he rolled over and dumped the swordsman on the ground.

They sat side by side on the white stone floor, their backs propped up against the wall. Zoro's arm ringed his cluster of swords balanced in his lap.

The rich, mellow tone of Sanji's voice rippled through the stillness of the empty storeroom.

"Look marimo, if I choose you, I'll have to give up women, and I don't think I can do that. I'm not even sure if I'm really all that attracted to men or not. I don't have all this gay stuff already figured out like you. It must be nice to have realized exactly what you wanted early on," the cook sighed, taking his pack of cigarettes and lighter out of his pocket.

"If you're still not sure you're bi after last night, then I don't know what to tell you. For me, figuring out what I wanted was the easy part. You know what really figured things out for me?" He lightly shook his swords. "Getting old enough to cut the people who tried to hurt me for that 'gay stuff'," Zoro said sharply.

"People hurt you?" Sanji exhaled a transparent cloud of smoke, rapt in listening to the tidbits of the swordsman's past that rarely rose to the surface.

Zoro raised an eyebrow at Sanji's naïveté. "People get killed over it, curly brow. You're right, being with me isn't going to be the easy choice. No one will look twice if you kiss a woman in public, love cook," he said quietly, leaning the back of his head against the wall and staring at the ceiling.

"Nothing's easy for me when you're involved, marimo," Sanji said numbly as he brought his legs up to his chest, his tennis shoes scuffing against the stone.

"Don't forget, the only ones here who are giving you a deadline on deciding anything are these love temple people. We have plenty of time. And if you can't decide, just try it out for a while. If you find that you want women more, break it off. Keep it simple," Zoro yawned, his head nodding down to his chest.

The swordsman's thoughts drifted over the pleasant memories of the past two days. Sleeping with the cook and discovering he had serious feelings for him was not part of the the plan when they started this idiotic trial, but looking back, it shouldn't have been such a surprise. It was as if every bit of the energy that went towards the aggression and tension in their rivalry had been masking their intense attraction to each other.

Zoro cleared his mind, his body relaxing as he found the mental trailhead to the worn path he traversed during his daily meditation. As long as he was working towards a goal, he could be patient.

"I'll think about it, but for right now, I'm still not interested," Sanji calmly told him, stretching his long legs out in front of him and resting his hands lightly in his lap.

Zoro sensed the pressure of another person outside the door and raised his head.

Rikka knocked, then peeked into the room.

"We're about to start the last trial. Are you ready?" she asked with a wide smile on her face, although her forehead was creased with worry.

"Yeah, let's get it over with," Zoro grunted as he jumped to his feet.

"Rikka-chan!" Sanji exclaimed as he flew to her, eye alight with pure adoration. "Will the next time I see your lovely face be in the real world?"

"Probably!" she laughed, closing her eyes. When she opened them, they were trained seriously on Zoro.

"It's the same room as last time, Sanji!" she directed as she ushered him out the door, lagging behind for the swordsman.

"What?" Zoro asked flatly, crossing his arms.

"Don't give up," she whispered. "Please don't give up. He's so close," she pleaded. Her hands shook slightly.

His eye shot open. "That's unnecessary. I'm not completely blind, priestess. You people need to quit meddling," he replied with his trademark gruffness, then brushed on past her.

Rikka shook her head, giving a resigned sigh. "They're going to be just fine," she muttered, her grey eyes affectionately following after them.

Chapter Text

They were relieved not to be tied together again before Rikka shoved them into the room. The familiar blackness encompassed them, and when Zoro opened his eye again, he was in the center of a moist, white cloud.

Stones crunched under Zoro's boots as he took a few steps forward in the roiling fog. As far he could tell, he was on a rocky cliff that plunged right off a sharp edge into the grasping ocean below. The sound of the sheets of saltwater that leapt up to try to devour him were irritatingly loud and monotonous, and it made the swordsman want to find Sanji all the sooner.

He heard faint sobbing dead ahead, and he followed it, carefully watching his step in the smothering mist.

The swordsman almost tripped over the tiny child at his feet. The ratty kid was crying softly as he looked out at the ocean, his whole body shuddering.

"Oi, kid, you ok?" Zoro asked.

"Don't look at me," the child replied in a weak, high-pitched voice.

"What's wrong?" The green-haired man insisted, becoming more disturbed as he caught sight of the boy's bony, emaciated arms that reached up to hide his face.

"Get the hell away from me!" the boy shrieked hoarsely, curling in on himself.

Zoro crouched down over sets of scratch marks etched into a flat stone and gently peeled the kid's stick-thin arms away from his sunken face. The stunned swordsman recoiled, his features twisting in horror as he saw a curly eyebrow framing a wide, bloodshot blue eye. Sanji's bones could be clearly seen through thin, hanging skin. His normally golden blond hair was dirty and wiry, and his lips were chapped and peeling.

"Shit!" Zoro spat. "Cook, what the hell did those fuckers do to you?! This is sick!" he yelled, waves of murderous rage spilling through him.

"Zoro," Sanji whimpered as he reached out to him. The swordsman gently picked him up and brought him to his lap, allowing the featherlight cook to hang from his neck as he cradled him.

"I never wanted to come back here again, marimo," Sanji snuffled, and fresh tears spilled out.

"This actually happened?!" Zoro stood with the miniature cook in his arms, looking at the island anew. He glanced down in horror at the scratch marks beneath his feet. There were so many days recorded there.

"We got shipwrecked here and almost starved to death. The shitty geezer should be on the other side," the child Sanji said.

The swordsman felt sick to his stomach. He was in the middle of Sanji's private, painful memories, memories the cook probably would never have willingly shared with anyone.

Zoro rounded the island, but found no one else. The cook was incredibly light, shivering in his arms. He flung his gaze hatefully at the false sky.

"Oi! Damn witches! This is sick! Who cares about whether we can see this damn thread or not! I'd rather us be enemies again before you put him through this hell!" Zoro screamed, his voice echoing out over the violent water. If the mastermind of the trial heard him, they remained mute.

The swordsman sank down on a rock, holding the young cook against his body. Sanji buried his face into Zoro's neck, breathing more steadily now, and he caught the other man's scent radiating from his skin. It was the essence of steel, metallic and earthy, like a freshly sharpened kitchen knife. Another hot tear spilled down his ashen cheek.

"You smell good, marimo," the cook commented shakily.

"Quiet. Just close your eyes and stay like that. Concentrate on me," his deep voice soothed.

"We have to figure out what to do to get out of here," Sanji desperately said.

"Just say you love me or something. Like when we kissed before," Zoro suggested, his back teeth painfully gritting together to keep from screaming out in rage.

"I can't say something like that so lightly," the cook's boyish voice protested.

"We have got to get you out of here," the swordsman bitterly ground out. He cringed as looked down at the emaciated kid in his lap.

"Don't look at me," the cook demanded irately. "You must think I'm weak. I've been through this before. I can handle it," Sanji assured, releasing his hold around Zoro's neck and settling on the ground next to him.

"Well I can't. I'm going to slice open whoever did this to you," the green-haired man growled, fingering his katanas.

Sanji had just opened his mouth to reply when the whole world rocked, flinging them flat on the ground.

"What the hell?" Zoro exclaimed after the lurching stopped. He scrambled to his knees and found Sanji. "Oi, you ok?"

The cook groaned, pushing himself to his feet. "Yeah. What the hell was that?" he croaked, coughing.

The swordsman flung his gaze up, glaring intently at the sky. The clouds that rolled overhead were now a dark, murderous red. Something suddenly seemed very wrong.

The air in front of them wavered like a mirage, and Rikka's head poked through a fissure out of nowhere. Through the crack, Zoro could see the candlelit background of the temple.

Panic was evident in her round, worried eyes. "Something's wrong. Come with me!" she yelled, waving them towards the opening.

"You're right, something is fucking wrong, you assholes! Change him back!" the swordsman demanded in a dark voice that would have made weaker minds run for cover. He indignantly threw his finger back to point at the tiny, starved cook.

"Don't talk to a lady like that, marimo," Sanji growled.

Rikka's eyebrows curved up in pity. "I'm so sorry, Sanji-kun. I don't have the Dream Dream power so I can't manipulate the fabric of this illusion like the boss can," she explained woefully.

"Where the fuck is your boss, then?!" Zoro barked, his fists balling up so tightly they ached.

"Quit it, marimo!" the young cook commanded.

"Bring him. I fear this place is no longer stable. The boss is missing, and she is the one creating this place," Rikka said, her face creased with deep lines of worry. She took a step back to make way for them to pass through the portal back to the temple.

"Can you walk?" Zoro asked softly as he stopped in front of the cook.

'There's nothing wrong with my legs, shitty marimo," Sanji replied testily as he stood and marched through the fissure.

Luffy carried a large leg of meat in his fist as he sprinted with the rest of the Straw Hats through the temple grounds, cannonballs whistling overhead.

"Those pirates are back with friends, Luffy!" Nami shouted to him, deftly assembling her ClimaTact as she ran.

"Right! Let's get Zoro and Sanji and kick their asses! They ruined our banquet!" the wiry captain shouted back, gnawing a strip of meat off the bone.

As they approached the main temple structure, they found it engulfed in flames, plumes of black smoke stretching in columns and blending into the darkness of the midnight sky.

"Sanji!" Luffy yelled as he spotted a familiar shock of blonde.

His soot-covered, sleeping form had been pulled away from the building and was being watched over by an older red-robed priestess. Another young attendant was sprawled out next to him.

Luffy shook the cook by his shoulders. "Oi! Wake up! This is no time to take a nap! Where's Zoro?"

"Sanji!" Chopper flung his medical pouch down, hurriedly digging out some tools to examine him with.

Nami bent down to the slender priestess laid out next to Sanji and checked her breathing. "She's out cold, but she seems to be ok," she told Chopper.

"Wait! It is impossible to wake them while they are linked to our Lady's mind. She and one of your crew are still in the temple! Please save them!" the priestess begged, tears streaking clean paths on her smoke-dusted cheeks.

"Stay with them, Chopper. Everyone, find their cannons," the dark-haired captain said as he stood, donning his straw hat low over his eyes as he threw a glare at the towering flames.

An eerie orange glow flickered over his face as he entered the fiery temple, the crew watching on.

Another tremor ripped through the temple, causing dust to cascade from cracks in the ceiling.

When the shaking subsided, Rikka rose from the floor, her huge grey eyes trained on the the shifting stones of the ceiling.

"This is bad. I've never experienced it, but the boss said that if she ever passed out while using her Devil Fruit powers, she'd have terrible nightmares," she told them, her voice thin with dread. Rikka bent down to Sanji's fragile form.

"I'm so sorry, Sanji. I never really know what she has planned in a dream until it happens. Had I known…" she trailed off, her eyes downcast with guilt.

"It's alright, Rikka-chan. I'm ok, I promise," Sanji assured her with a sweet smile.

The brooding swordsman's motionless form watched on like a stony gargoyle as he glared at her from the ground.

"What are you going to do about all of this?" Zoro demanded as he rose.

"I'm going to go to the real world to see what's wrong. I wish I could take you too, but I'm the only one here who's been granted permission to move freely out of the dreams. The only thing is, I won't be able to come back without her power once I leave," Rikka warned.

"Then get out of here. I'm done with all of you love temple people anyway," Zoro huffed.

"Damn it, marimo!" Sanji stalked over to him, scowling up at the towering swordsman. "I told you not to talk to her like that!"

"She is partly the reason you're like this right now!" Zoro yelled heatedly.

"Well if that's true, which it isn't, then Rikka-chan also deserves credit for last night, but I don't see you complaining about that!" Sanji bit back.

Rikka threw her hands up and waved them frantically. "Wait, guys! He's right, Sanji-kun. Things might get worse if I don't go and see."

She took a small, wavy-bladed dagger from the folds of her yukata and swiped it down in front of her, tearing a huge gash in the air. Harsh light spilled into the room, momentarily blinding them.

"Be careful. I fear the nightmares might be worse than just earthquakes," she cautioned them, her voice steeped in worry. With one last look at each of them, she stepped through the split, leaving them completely alone.

"You're such an asshole," Sanji said in disgust, his hands planted on his bony hips.

Zoro didn't rise to the bait. "I hate seeing you like this," he said more gently than he intended to as he peered into Sanji's dirty, gaunt face.

The cook's posture softened. "I don't like me like this either," he sighed, pausing.

"Oi, marimo. I don't want people ever knowing anything about this, ok? I'd rather they find out I screwed you than about something like this," Sanji said as his sight fell to the ground.

The swordsman raised an eyebrow. "You'd really rather have people find out that we slept together on purpose than you nearly dying due to an accident?" he asked slowly, doubt delaying the words.

"Well I definitely don't want anyone finding about that either, but-"

The miniature cook suddenly whipped his head to the side as a series of chilling howls poured in from the town square. He and Zoro exchanged an uneasy frown.

"Nightmares?" Sanji mouthed.

A deep, wet chuffing sound reverberated from the steps to the temple. Zoro silently drew two swords and sidestepped towards the entrance.

Sanji watched their red thread feed out as his soul mate moved further away. He clenched his teeth as saw the swordsman scowl dangerously, then tie his black bandana on, placing Wado into his mouth.

Sanji began to round the altar towards Zoro, but the swordsman's eye slid over to him. He gave the cook an almost imperceptible head shake.

Zoro was staring down a giant, human-like skeleton crouching down and filling the tall entryway, pitch black and glistening as if covered in tar. Pointed incisors lined a gaping maw as its empty sockets locked onto him.

The cook leaned out as far as he could, peeking around the stone altar. He froze, his mouth dropping in disbelief.

A deadly aura flared around the swordsman, feral and predatory like a prowling tiger. In one smooth motion, he raised his katanas over his head and dropped them behind the blade in his mouth.

"Three Sword Style..."

Dry joints creaked nauseatingly as the creature crawled eagerly towards Zoro, bones scraping against the stone floor.

In an instant, the swordsman closed the distance to the dripping black nightmare. "Ul-Tora Gari!"

As splinters of bone exploded from Zoro's blades in the the entryway, the ceiling behind the altar caved in and another glistening skeleton rode the massive stone blocks down, screeching as it dropped on all fours, caging Sanji within its legs.

The cook ducked as its claws sailed just over his head with a rushing whoosh of air, then rolled to deliver a kick to its inner femur. In Sanji's weakened state, he didn't even rattle the limb.

Zoro had just finished slicing the skull of the first skeleton in half when he looked over to see Sanji's tiny body squeezed in the lattice of flat bones of the skeleton's hand.

The swordsman sprinted towards him, his katanas gleaming jet black in the darkened temple like spikes of treacherously sharp obsidian.

"Oi, behind you! Worry about yourself, you shitty bastard!" the cook squeaked out, his lungs compressed by the nightmare's grip as he was brought towards its mouth.

Zoro snatched a look over his shoulder. The bones he had just rended in a spray of fragments were vibrating and knocking together like hollow tree branches as they systematically built themselves up again like a giant puzzle.

The swordsman's gaze quickly flicked back as he heard Sanji cry out in frustration, desperately trying to wriggle out of the skeleton's hold before being fed to a cavern of curved teeth.

Zoro's grip twisted on the hilts of his swords as he focused his attention back on the first skeleton just in time to block a battering ram of knife-like fangs as long as his arm with a disconcerting smack of bone against steel.

The swordsman shifted his weight smoothly as energy flowed seamlessly from muscle to swords. A trio of scything slashes ripped through the creature, sending the bones scattering in a flurry once again.

The swordsman scoffed at the vibrating pile of pieces, his patience evaporated. He quickly vaulted over a fallen pillar to where the second skeleton was now creating a cloying dust cloud by slapping the ground and pulling down pillars and statuary like a giant cat hunting for a mouse.

He wasted no time splitting this one down the middle as well, and while it was twitching he searched for Sanji.

"Cook!" he called, the pit of his stomach bunching up tightly like an angry fist. He heard stones clatter to his right, and the small, haggard form of Sanji stepped from the shadows, his arms crossed.

"I can take care of myself, marimo. Don't change the way we fight just because you got into my pants, alright?" the cook said pointedly.

"Don't be stubborn, idiot curly brow! I know you can't fight right now, or else you would have kicked the shit out of that thing," Zoro said gruffly.

Sanji suddenly jerked violently on Zoro's robe, pointing behind him.

The swordsman spun around to see the two broken clusters of bones converging, transforming into something absolutely immense. Two dark, dripping halves of a skull formed thick shoulder armor and spires of extra ribs fanned out of its main head like a horrific crown. The monster crouched down on its cobbled together limbs, its mouth yawning wide open at them.

They began to gag as the rising scent of rotten eggs suddenly fouled the air.

"Fuck!" Sanji cursed, seizing Zoro's hand and yanking him behind a column just as a tidal wave of boiling hot flame rushed around them, singeing their clothes and hair and bathing them in the nauseating scent of sulfur.

"You've got to be kidding me! It breathes fire now?!" Zoro yelled over the deafening rush.

As it subsided, the swordsman carefully peeked out. Flames dripped sloppily from the skeleton's jaw as it scanned the columns for movement.

Zoro looked down at Sanji, whose sharp eye urgently darted around the room, his mouth set into a grim line.

"It would be easier to fight if we weren't in such a small space," Zoro spoke in a low voice, bending down to the emaciated cook to be heard. "How fast can you run right now?"

The cook's eye sank to the ground, giving Zoro his answer. The swordsman crouched down.

"Get on my back," he told the frowning cook.

"I'm not weak, I can run just fine," Sanji growled, planting himself.

"We don't have time for this! Look, it's just a means to an end like before, ok?" Zoro explained quickly.

"That's a terrible example, marimo! That kiss led to other things!" Sanji whispered harshly.

"Wouldn't that make it a good example then?" the swordsman grinned.

The skeleton's head appeared between two columns down the line, huffing for their scent. Sanji silently climbed onto Zoro's back.

The swordsman stepped from behind the column, his powerful aura snapping like lightning through his body as he slid into a wider stance and placed Wado Ichimonji back into his mouth. He coiled like a spring as he brought all three swords parallel.

"Three sword style...Tatsumaki!"

A tornado of slashing wind spun with fury through the ruined temple, covering brick and bone alike with a flying barrage of vicious attacks.

Zoro sprinted around the dramatically collapsing skeleton, leaping over slabs of fallen stone and emerging onto the temple's front steps.

They had traded one hell for another.

Under a horrific, bloody sky, gnashing creatures of every sort ran wild through the square, slaughtering the throngs of people that not long ago had been happily buying and selling their wares.

As he ran down the front steps, Shusui slipped from Zoro's right hand and fell on the stone with a ringing chime of metal. He lurched to a stop. He had never dropped a sword without taking a very heavy hit first.

Incredibly embarrassed, he bent to pick it back up. The swordsman flinched. His right hand and forearm were completely transparent, his new stub of an arm sinking through the hilt with no resistance at all.

Sanji dug his fingernails into his shoulder, cursing. "Let me see," he whispered, reaching his bony arm down Zoro's chest.

The green-haired man reluctantly brought his arm up, allowing the cook to wave his hand through the disappeared limb. Sanji quickly checked his own body, then hissed out a breath of air.

"We need to get going, marimo," he said numbly as the sounds of the skeleton's creaking joints drew closer to the entrance.

Zoro nodded, sheathing all swords except one with his left hand and descending the last steps.

"I remember how to get to the cabin, so maybe we can hang out there while Rikka-chan gets this thing all sorted out, if there aren't freaking skeletons crawling all over it or something," the cook offered, tiredly burying his face into Zoro's shoulder.

"Oi, cook. If I disappear or something…"

"Shut the fuck up, Zoro! Now go left. That's the side your sword is on right now, idiot," Sanji said acidly, all the while squeezing the swordsman's neck so tightly it ached.

Chapter Text

The roof of the engulfed temple collapsed in a spray of sparks.

"Luffy!" Chopper cried out as he hovered between his two patients. The blond attendant began to stir, choking on smoke in her lungs, and Chopper rushed to her side.

"You're with the Straw Hat crew!" Rikka exclaimed excitedly as she sat straight up. Her mouth dropped open as her eyes fell on the inferno that was once her temple.

"What the heck is going on here?! Where's Sanji and Zoro? The high priestess?" she asked relentlessly.

"Sanji's right here, but I still can't wake him. We were attacked again, so the rest of the crew are fighting, except Luffy's gone to get Zoro and the high priestess from the temple. He's been gone a while…" his round eyes glistened with worry as he thoroughly checked her vitals.

She stood on shaky legs, the heat from fire making her eyes water even from the distance they were to the flames.

"Don't leave Sanji without his soul mate," she whispered a prayer, her gray eyes following the red tail of their thread of fate that led from the prone cook and disappeared into the pillars of smoke pouring out of the building.

"Don't worry," Chopper reached up and clutched her hand in his hoof. "Luffy will rescue them," he stated proudly, wiping his eyes with the back of his arm.

The rest of the crew noisily crested the hill.

"Chopper!" Nami called out. "I think we chased them away for good now!"

"Ow, I chased them around in General Franky! I think they were so scared they jumped off of their boats and swam away!" Franky laughed heartily.

"General Franky is so cool!" Usopp swooned, stars in his eyes.

"Haven't Luffy and Swordsman-san returned yet?" Robin inquired, her blue eyes narrowed in worry.

Chopper shook his head, tears brimming in his eyes. The rest of the crew stopped celebrating. "They're still in the temple," he whimpered as he pointed to the bonfire of a building blazing behind him.

"What?!" Nami gasped, running closer.

"Rain Tempo!" she yelled, whipping her Clima-Tact to the sky. It was difficult to see the cloud for the smoke, but a deluge began to pour down, slightly dampening the flames.

Minutes passed in silence as Nami kept the rain coming.

"I'm going in after them," Franky growled impatiently, starting forward.

Robin stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Wait! Look!"

Luffy burst from the entrance to the temple, a body over each shoulder, and rolled out, collapsing on the ground. The crew rushed forward, patting out pockets of flames on their clothes.

"Luffy! Are you ok?" Nami inspected him, but he miraculously didn't seem to be very burned, only covered in thick soot.

"I'm ok. Take a look at them, Chopper!" the captain coughed.

"The priestess seems to be ok!" Chopper shouted, then ran over to Zoro. His large eyes went even wider as he checked on the pale swordsman.

"Luffy, Zoro's inhaled too much smoke. He's not breathing!" he exclaimed, transforming into Heavy Point and beginning CPR.

Rikka desperately shook the High Priestess. "Boss! Wake up! Wake up!"

The dark-haired priestess coughed, her eye opening a sliver. "Rikka."

"Listen, you have to quickly make me a gate to get Zoro and Sanji out of the dream. They're in danger!" she said, speeding through the words.

The high priestess nodded. "Hurry. I don't know how long I can last," she replied weakly, touching Rikka's forehead.

The blond attendant flopped over, sickenly lulled to sleep by the steady pumping on Zoro's chest.

They huddled in a dark alley, Zoro now unable to walk with both of his legs vanished. He resembled a horribly mutilated ghost with just his torso and one arm still lingering.

"I wonder if this is part of the nightmare?" Zoro asked dispassionately, glancing down at the other pirate with deep concern bubbling just below the calm surface.

Sanji had found a pack of cigarettes in his apron and was smoking heavily, leaning his head on Zoro's remaining shoulder.

"I'm sure it will be fine. Rikka's up there," the cook reassured him, trembling as he lit a new cigarette on the embers of the previous one.

Zoro put his arm around the childlike cook, drawing him closer. "Oi, cook. I want to ask you a favor," he muttered.

"You don't ask a lot of favors," Sanji responded warily.

"If anything happens to me, take this white sword of mine," he lightly touched the hilt of the katana on what was left of his lap.

"Shut the hell up, marimo! Just fucking shut up!" the cook yelled fiercely.

Zoro ignored him. "Sink it in the All Blue when you find it. I think she'd be ok with seeing your dream realized, if I fail to achieve mine," he whispered.

"You're an idiot. A fucking idiot," Sanji said in hushed tones, tears filling his eyes.

They were both quiet for a long while.

"You...really believe the All Blue exists?" the cook asked incredulously.

"Of course it exists. I wouldn't ask you to put something this important to me in a place that didn't exist," Zoro stated matter-of-factly.

The miniature cook buried his face into Zoro's shoulder. "I'm pretty sure older Sanji would jump you before your dick disappeared for saying something like that," he sighed miserably.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that come out a starving child's mouth," Zoro said with distaste, shaking his head.

Sanji laughed, but it was cut short when he fell through Zoro as his remaining arm vanished, leaving some of his chest and head as the only tangible parts of his ethereal body.

"Shit," the swordsman cursed, looking down at where his arms and legs should have been.

Sanji rose to his feet, wringing his bony hands. "Fuck, marimo…"

A low growl suddenly echoed off of the bricks from the mouth of the alley. The cook slowly turned around.

A hulking, wolf-like creature with wicked, curled horns stalked towards them, its inky fur bristling as glowing, hateful eyes devoured its chosen prey.

"Back away slowly, cook," Zoro whispered.

"Forget it! I'm not leaving you, asshole!" Sanji shouted.

It lunged forward and dove at Sanji, who managed to roll out of the way at the last second, connecting a kick as it flew past. To the cook's dismay, his best shot merely knocked the wolf off course. He heard Zoro curse from behind him as the nightmare spun back around, shooting forward and delivering a gruesome bite to his bony leg and thrashing its head from side to side.

Sanji grunted and bent backwards, planting his hands on the ground and thrusting his other foot into the wolf's eye. The beast screamed in pain, releasing the young cook to wipe at its face with its paw. Sanji sank down to one knee, grimacing at the mauled limb.

The swordsman felt like he was going to explode, and he desperately tried to stretch his neck to grab a sword from the ground with his mouth. The wolf stalked towards Sanji again, angrier than ever.

"Oi! Over here, you ugly asshole! You think you're tough? I can take you on like this!" Zoro yelled loudly. The beast turned, fur bristling as its attention focused fully on the swordsman.

Zoro gritted his teeth, helpless despite his bravado. Sticky strings of saliva dripped down to the ground as the wolf closed in.

A mouth full of fangs leapt towards his face.

Something blurred in front of him, and a spatter of dark blood arced skywards. Sanji dropped to his knees, panting harshly.

"Cook!" Zoro screamed in horror.

As a bloodspattered Sanji looked over his shoulder, Zoro could see the monster's still corpse laying in front of him. The sheen of metal clutched in the cook's slim fingers shone crimson under the eerie red sky.

It was the Doskoi Panda chef's knife.

"What have you done to me, marimo?" Sanji said breathlessly, dropping his hands to his lap. "I never use a blade on things that aren't food. A cook's knife is their soul," he whispered, staring haunted at their thread of fate running through pools of red to reach Zoro.

"Then you should have ran!" the swordsman shouted irately. "Where the hell did you get that, anyway?"

Sanji sighed, wiping the flat of the blade on his apron. "I washed up on that island with only the clothes I was wearing and my knife," he told him numbly.

A sudden gash sliced through the air behind him and harsh blue light poured from it into the alley. Rikka thrust out her head, her eyes briskly darting between the two pirates.

"Rikka-chan!" Sanji hobbled over, the miniature pink hearts bubbling up from his eye in contrast with the stark trail of blood he was leaving.

"Sanji," she said softly, her eyes widening as they fell upon Zoro's mostly transparent body. "You need to come with me, quickly," she said, wrapping her fingers around one of his skinny wrists.

The swordsman realized there was something incredibly wrong with him as he studied her furtive glances in silence.

The cook turned back towards his rival, sensing something off. "What's going on?"

"Something that can only be taken care of in the real world, Sanji. We'll have to help him there," she replied carefully, tightening her grip on his arm.

"Please...what's wrong with Zoro?" his young voice pleaded as he frantically pulled away from her to get to the disappearing man.

"Are you going to be a bother to a woman who's trying to help you, cook? We can figure it out when we get back, right priestess?" Zoro leveled his gaze at her, his eye flicking to Sanji.

"Right," Rikka agreed, something unspoken passing between them as she solemnly nodded back.

Sanji anxiously hugged his frail body, his eye glued to Zoro as the priestess suddenly yanked him into the portal.

The last thing the swordsman remembered was the cook calling his name as the sides of the opening merged back together and vanished, leaving him alone in the darkness of the alley.

Chapter Text

The cook woke with Rikka slapping him across his face. Hard.

"Wake up, Sanji-kun!" she screamed at him, shaking him so vigorously his head knocked against the ground.

Sanji sat up, lightly fending off the priestess's attacks. His spine straightened as he realized she was crying.

"Rikka-chan! What happened? What's on fire?" he yelled, pushing himself off of the ground.

She wordlessly grabbed his face and turned his cheek so he could see behind him. Chopper was hulking in Heavy Point, repeatedly pressing on something laying on the ground. Sanji caught a flash of a green haramaki and he jumped up, stumbling over himself like a newborn foal to get to Zoro's side.

"What the hell?!" he gasped at the sight of the swordsman receiving chest compressions, his face blue.

"Sanji...He's not going to make it," Chopper wept, continuing to compress Zoro's chest.

Rikka stood and laid a hand on the doctor's shoulder. "Stop," she said firmly. "Sanji is the only one who can save him now."

"But he was just there, Rikka-chan!" the cook exclaimed, visibly shaking.

The burned and battered high priestess raised her head from the ground. "Only you can bring him back, Sanji. I'm going to make one last dream for you to find him. Come closer, we must do it quickly," she spoke as if she had grit stuck in her throat.

Sanji exchanged a fearful glance with Rikka, then kneeled by the priestess. She touched his forehead.

"Go find your soulmate. I'm not sure how long this will last. Good luck, and may the goddess be with you," her voice faded as the cook went under her spell once again.

It was night in the empty town he appeared in. The shadows thrown from rows of ghostly red lanterns hanging from the sloped, tiled roofs shifted and bled into each other like a shivering watercolor painting. It was both beautiful and revolting at the same time, as if swimming just beneath the dancing surface was something dark and dangerous.

Every part of him was screaming that he didn't belong there.

Down the line of houses he saw a single figure in a white yukata moving away from him. The green-haired man was without his swords, and from this distance he shifted and faded much like the background. Here the thread of fate was a wide strip of fine crimson silk dragging miserably on the stone street between them.

"Marimo!" The cook called, walking quickly towards him. He received no reaction from the swordsman, who was aimed at a handsome wooden building at the end of the row, a temple perhaps, set back and partially obscured by the beginnings of a forest.

"Oi, we need to get out of here!" Sanji yelled, catching up to him and pulling on his bicep to stop him.

Zoro ripped his arm free of Sanji's grasp. "What the hell are you doing, damn cook?!" he growled as he leveled a glare at him. He had both of his eyes, and Sanji thought he looked a little younger, his hair cut a little shorter like when they first met. How had he never noticed that Zoro was this good looking before?

The cook sighed with relief as he peered into the swordsman's eyes for an extra second, a slight tinge of pink spreading across his nose and cheeks.

"I'm taking you back to the real world, dumbass. Now come on," Sanji said, turning to leave.

But Zoro didn't follow.

"Quit bothering me, shit cook! I have places I gotta be," he griped, pointing down the road ahead.

"I haven't laid eyes my dojo since I left to accomplish my dream," he continued. "So get lost. You're not coming with me," he told him brusquely, shoving past the cook.

"Oh my god, you don't remember," Sanji realized, flinging a loud, echoing curse to the eaves above him. "We don't have time for this!"

Sanji snatched Zoro's hand and began pulling him along. "Just trust me, damn it," the cook said with exasperation.

The swordsman pushed him away, "Oi! Get off of me, curly brow!"

"Just listen. You're in danger. You need you to postpone your dojo visit or whatever and come with me right now," Sanji said imperatively, nearly biting the cigarette he held in his mouth in half.

"Eh? Since when have you given a shit whether I'm in danger or not, idiot cook?"

"I've cared a whole lot more about you than we both realized. You really don't remember yesterday?" the cook asked irritably.

"Remember what?" Zoro demanded.

An angry heat spread throughout Sanji's tightening chest. "Idiot! We slept together! Ring a bell?"

Zoro's face drained of color, his mouth dropping open in absolute shock. "What?! Quit fucking with me!"

"It's true, although I probably shouldn't have, because look where it's gotten me," the blond man sighed, stepping into the warm halo of the swordsman's body. He leaned in, his lips softly grazing the other man's, who for all his previous hostility did not pull away.

Zoro drew the cook in closer to him, slamming their chests together as he madly kissed Sanji back.

The cook suddenly remembered his mission and he reluctantly pulled away, breathing heavily. "As much fun as it would be to do this all day, we have to get back-oi!" Sanji exclaimed as Zoro shook loose from his arms and rushed around him.

"Leave me alone," Zoro muttered without turning around.

"Bastard! I swear I'm not messing with you! Can't you just take my word on something for once?!" Sanji snapped, frowning after his idiot lover.

As his gaze shifted up to the dojo in the distance he saw a pure white light, painfully bright in the darkness, encompassing the open entryway as if that was all there was beyond it.

The sharp edge of fear slashed through his entire body. If his instincts were correct, he couldn't let Zoro make it there.

Sanji began to run after the quick swordsman, but his legs seemed to move unnaturally slowly as he tried to follow him. Zoro was heading straight towards the light with an unusually good sense of direction, the gap between them widening faster than Sanji could advance.

The dream began to fade, and he could hear the muted sounds of his nakama's voices emerging from the background.

"Zoro! Wait, damn it! " he gasped through shuddering breaths as he watched his soul mate disappear further into the distance while he seemingly ran in place.

He looked down and he could see the hazy image of his own kneeling lap in the real world merging into the dream, stunting his progress forward.

"Idiot! Aren't you going to be the world's greatest swordsman?" he cried out, his fingers clawing uselessly after him, but the swordsman kept fading, shifting with the strange, oil slick-colored mist that began to pour from the dojo.

Through the smoky tendrils, he saw Zoro silhouetted by the backdrop of blinding light as he climbed the steps.

"Don't go…" Sanji whispered through clenched teeth, his eyes brimming with tears.

His posture suddenly straightened as his curled eyebrow lowered angrily over his hurricane-blue eye.

"I'm not letting you go! I'll pull you out of the afterlife if that's what it takes, you bastard!" he screamed at him, his legs finding their strength again.

Coils of blazing amber flames twisted up each leg, and he was a blur as he launched himself after Zoro, a glowing orange tail streaking behind him as he sky walked like a missile.

The cook skidded up the stairs as he landed. Zoro was bathed in the eerie, brilliant light, his long shadow falling over him. Sanji reached and grabbed a fistful of the swordsman's white yukata and tried yanking him backwards, but the fabric fell through his hand as if it had been made of cobwebs.

He could see straight through Zoro as he took a single step inside the brilliant doorway. A curtain of cold air descended over the cook as he skirted the edge of the threshold.

"Please don't go," Sanji begged, tears now sliding down his cheeks.

Zoro took another step into the next life.

"I love you," Sanji whispered.

From the the center of the intense light, he saw the nearly transparent shade of Zoro look over his shoulder.

The red thread snapped taut between them with a twang, brushing against Sanji's forearm. The surprised cook reached out and tentatively grasped the wide strand in his fingers.

It was soft without being slick, like the fine silk of a kimono. He found his grip and yanked with every shred of strength he could find in himself, trying to wrench the swordsman and the future he wanted with him from the irresistible lure of the sea of light before him.

The curtain of the dream began to lift, and through the dream he could see his friends' worried faces. They became more real, more defined as Zoro and the light he was fighting ceased to be. Sanji gasped as he realized he was fully back in reality.

His last chance had ended.

Chapter Text

"I'm so sorry, Sanji. She couldn't keep it up," Rikka faintly told him as he woke, her cheeks wet as she rested a hand on the forehead of the unconscious high priestess.

"Did it work?! Chopper?" Sanji spoke quickly, still dizzy from the sudden shift back. He rotated on his knees to face the furry little doctor.

Chopper's eyes were glistening as he removed the stethoscope from his ears. "I'm so sorry. Everybody…" he bawled. "I'm so sorry! If only I had-"

"He'll be alright, Chopper," Luffy said as he stood motionless, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Luffy…" Nami gently came up beside him, her eyes glistening. "Chopper said-"

"He'll be fine. Sanji's with him," he interrupted, watching the cook from the darkness under the brim of his straw hat.

Sanji gathered up Zoro's hand, their thread of fate cascading over their fingers, and pressed it to his face, absolutely losing it in a series of muffled, shuddering sobs that both baffled and broke his crew mates' hearts.

The cook froze as Zoro's hand suddenly moved, gently stroking his cheek. Sanji's heart began pounding with elation as he started to sit up.

"You fucking idiot…" the blond man whimpered, hurriedly rubbing the tears out of his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Miss me?" Zoro asked softly as he cupped the cook's chin in his hand, brushing the fresh rivers of tears away from his cheek with his thumb.

The swordsman's smug smirk was covered with warm lips as the cook engulfed him, practically knocking him back down on the ground in his haste to kiss him.

Sanji's exuberance was contagious, and the Zoro was unable to stop himself from grinning, returning the emotional flurry of relieved kisses with equal voracity.

A high-pitched, nervous voice suddenly wavered beside them.

"Guys, um, can I see Zoro for a minute? I mean, he seems like he's doing good but I still really need to check him out," Chopper stuttered.

The cook tore himself away, a hot blush burning up his face as he remembered that their nakama were there, currently gawking at them in absolute shock.

As Zoro was getting hugged on and then examined by the fuzzy doctor, Sanji stood and impassively grabbed a cigarette.

"I'm fine, I promise," the swordsman attempted to convince the doctor.

Part of his green robe was burned away, and every inch of him was covered in grimy soot. The confusing smell of wood smoke permeated the air around him. His eyebrows jumped as his eye fell across the smoldering temple.

"I was doing CPR on you for a real long time, Zoro," the little reindeer explained in a tiny voice, tears gathering in his eyes yet again.

Zoro pulled his hand through his soft, green waves, exhaling slowly as his eye traveled between the doctor and the cook.

No wonder he had been so damn happy to see him.

"Thanks, Chopper," he said. As his thoughts grimly lingered on this, the buzz of the crew talking amongst themselves floated over to him.

"That love temple is the real deal!" Usopp exclaimed, dumbfounded.

"I'm sure that this still won't keep Sanji from being all pervy with women, though!" Franky laughed.

"How romantic! I was sure I'd be dead before I got to see their love finally blossom! Wait, but I'm already dead! Yohohohohoho!" Brook laughed.

Zoro peered up at Sanji as he calmly smoked with his back to the crew. The cook's visible eye was as cold as marble, and a dangerous aura oozed from his still form.

The swordsman subtly verified the location his katanas.

Right as Chopper gave Zoro the all clear, Sanji raised his leg and repeatedly stomped on him.

"Shitty marimo! Why the hell would you do something like that to me in front of everybody?!" the cook yelled, an indignant frown tightening over his splotchy red face.

"What? You're the one who started it! And you're making it worse by screaming at me over it," he pointed out, diving for a sword to defend himself from the irate cook's kicks.

"Besides, it saves us the trouble of eventually getting caught later on. We live on a small ship, curly brow. It's shameful to sneak around," the swordsman explained nonchalantly through crossed blades.

"What? You don't even know if there is going to be a later on! I could still tell you to go to hell," the cook threatened, articulating it with a sharp kick aimed at his groin, which Zoro hurriedly blocked.

"You won't. And I wasn't even thinking about who else was watching when I opened my eyes, moron," he sighed, lowering his katanas.

"Eye. You only have one now because you're careless," Sanji corrected, his stream of cigarette smoke waving tauntingly over the swordsman.

"Will you just shut the hell up?! Look, I wasn't thinking about that, because when I saw you, nothing else mattered," Zoro told him.

He spotted their friends' mouths dropping open again out of the corner of his eye.

Luffy stepped forward with his hands on his hips, laughing triumphantly. "I knew you'd bring him back! Good work, Sanji!"

"Uh, thanks, Luffy," the cook said with a weak smile, his shoulders slumped in utter humiliation and exhaustion.

Nami sauntered towards the cook, a sly grin on her face. Zoro glared at the navigator. This could make or break what they had just begun.

"Nami-swan!" Sanji gulped, practically cowering before her.

"Honestly, you could have given me a little hint so I could have started collecting bets! I would have made a killing!" she sighed, rubbing her temples. "Anyway, that sad look on your face is giving me a headache. Just give me advance warning before you start making any more unlikely life decisions, ok?" she said coyly, winking at him.

The cook nodded, pulling the corners of his mouth into the brightest smile he could muster at the moment. "Sure thing, Nami-san…"

As Sanji and Nami spoke, Usopp sidestepped conspiratorially towards Zoro.

"Hey, Zoro, watch out! Robin just told Luffy he can marry people because he's captain," the sniper whispered, cupping his hand beside his mouth.

The swordsman slid a hand down his face, sighing. "Great. Thanks for the warning," he groaned.

Rikka ran up and gave them each a crushing hug. "I'm so glad you'll have a lucky thirteen," she bawled, wiping at her eyes.

"I'm sorry about your temple, Rikka-chan," Sanji apologized, then leaned in so only she could hear.

"You did your best for us, and I'll do mine to safeguard a young lady's dream," he told her, peering over at the distracted swordsman with a subtle flicker of resigned affection.

Her smile was like a honey colored beam of sunlight lancing through a stormcloud.

The high priestess sat up on her elbows, clearing her throat. "You have completed the trials. I can still hide your-"

"Hell no," Zoro abruptly interrupted, scowling at her.

Sanji smacked the back of the swordsman's head. "You'll have to ignore him, he's a complete idiot. No, thanks," Sanji replied, getting a wide grin from the priestess.

"I only wish I could see your thread of fate. I think it could be worth studying," Robin said as she walked up, her blue eyes moving cunningly between Sanji and Zoro.

"I could talk to my boss about that, Nico Robin," Rikka winked.

Before Zoro could chime in to veto that suggestion, Luffy's voice sailed shrilly over the crew. "Alright! When's the wedding? We need a big cake! And lots of meat!"

"Yohohohoho! I can provide the music!" Brook chimed in, producing a violin out of nowhere.

"Of course you'll want to pick the great Usopp as your best man!" the sniper said proudly, throwing his head back in a laugh.

The two were already halfway down the hill to the Sunny by the time they were missed.

"Married. Are you kidding? We couldn't get married even if we wanted to. Which is not even an option, got it?" Sanji added irritably.

"Alright, cook, but that won't stop them from trying. A captain can marry people on their ship, right? And I heard that your precious Robin told our captain, who doesn't give a shit about the rest of the world's laws, all about it," Zoro explained, frowning sourly as he watched Sanji's eye grow wide as he spoke.

"I'd say this is one of the few places in the world where we could actually get legally married," he shrugged. "Not that we should or anything. We've only been together for all of two seconds."

"We're not even together. I never even said I wanted to be with you!" Sanji griped.

Zoro groaned, aggravatedly exhaling into his steepled fingers. "Look, it's pretty obvious you do, but we can think about all that stuff tomorrow. Right now I just want to go to sleep," he yawned, rubbing his smoke-stained face.

"Me too. This has been one of the most embarrassing days of my life," the cook grumbled, sliding his hands into his pockets and puffing on his cigarette as he silently walked at Zoro's side.

Sanji let a long pause creep by before speaking again.

"Oi, marimo. What happened after Rikka-chan and I left? Do you...remember anything?" Sanji pried, studying him from out of the corner of his eye.

"I must have disappeared pretty soon after you guys left. All I remember is waking up with you crying all over me. Why?" Zoro inquired suspiciously.

"No reason," the cook replied numbly, his eye focused straight ahead.

Once aboard, Sanji hurried to the bathroom to wash the thick layer of black soot and the acrid smell of smoke off of his aching body.

The cook undressed, then crouched on a stool, vigorously scrubbing the dirt off and zealously eyeing the hot bath that awaited him once he was finished. He was just beginning to relax when Zoro sank down on the stool next to him. Sanji flinched to cover the right side of his face where his hair had been slicked back with shampoo.

"Shitty marimo! Can't I get a moment's peace? I'm not in the mood," he hissed, turning away and vigorously rinsing the soap from his hair, pulling a swath of it over his eye.

"Not in the mood for what?" the swordsman asked drolly.

"I don't know. Messing around. Sex. Whatever you're looking for," the cook replied coldly.

"I'm not looking for that right now," Zoro mumbled as he doused himself with a bucketful of gloriously warm water and began rinsing the soot and grime off of his chest.

"And I don't care about your stupid eyebrows," the swordsman added before vigorously soaping up his face. He heard the cook huff beside him.

They settled into a comfortable silence, wordlessly passing soap back and forth as rivers of black flowed down the drain. Sanji rose and climbed into the bath, closing his eye as he leaned against the side, thick clouds of steam circling close to the water's surface. Zoro joined him, submerging into the amazing heat right next to him.

As the swordsman soaked and unwound, he found himself meditatively watching beads of water roll slowly down the cook's smooth, pale shoulders. When he looked up, he found the other man staring back at him.

Sanji exhaled tiredly, then leaned forward and bumped his head into Zoro's collarbone where his scar began. One of the swordsman's arms snaked around him, cupping the wet hair matted down on the back of his head with his palm as he squeezed him closer.

"I want to give this a shot," Sanji whispered.

"I know," Zoro said.

"You're a complete asshole, you know that?" Sanji replied, a touch of heat to his tone.

Zoro couldn't argue with that. "You like it," he smirked.

"You wish." The cook rose from the bath and hurled a towel at the swordsman's head.

They dressed in comfortable sleeping clothes and made their way to the dormitory together.

Every one of Zoro's muscles cried out for the soft bedding of the wooden hammocks, and he gracelessly toppled into one face first.

Sanji began climbing into his own bunk when he felt a tug on his shirt. He flung a glance over his shoulder to see the swordsman scoot over in his bed, patting the space beside him.

"That's where all this mess started," Sanji said wryly.

"Mmm," Zoro grunted as the cook carefully slipped in beside him.

"Only for a little bit," Sanji stipulated, nestling into the warmth between Zoro's outstretched arms. "I don't want anyone to see us."

"You don't want the girls to see us. Who cares anyway? They don't sleep here," he whispered into his ear, kissing lightly down his neck.

"Shut the hell up, shitty marimo," Sanji groaned, the back of his throat opening into a huge yawn which he deposited into the swordsman's shirt.

"You shut up, idiot curly brow," Zoro muttered, closing his eye and resting his chin on the crown of the cook's head, the calming waves of sleep rolling over him like an advancing tide.

The swordsman was on the verge of unconsciousness when the cook lightly shook him. Zoro felt the other man's muscles tense under his fingertips.

"Marimo." Sanji nudged him again.

The swordsman's eye batted open. "I'm awake," he responded groggily.

"I can't sleep. I'm too pissed off that you don't remember," the cook announced.

The corners of Zoro's mouth pulled down into a tight scowl. "Just hurry and tell me what I should be remembering, because I'm exhausted," he snapped testily.

Sanji wedged a knee underneath of him and dumped him on the floor with a loud rattle of the wooden floorboards.

"Oi! You bastard! What the fuck was that for?!" Zoro yelled indignantly as he shot up, now fully awake. "Just what the hell are you so worked up over?!" he demanded, his eyebrows pulling together in annoyance and confusion.

"You don't remember, but in that last dream I realized something when I was fucking begging for you not to die. In that moment, I knew that I would never want anyone as much as I wanted you. That even though you don't have boobs or brains or a damn shred of common sense, I don't know why, but I love you so much it hurts!" Sanji yelled angrily, his shoulders heaving with excited breaths.

Zoro froze for a long, disbelieving moment, the blood pounding in his ears. Then he moved, frantically launching back onto the fluffy bed and pressing dozens of velvety soft kisses all over the cook, covering his lips, hands, face, and neck.

The swordsman had decided. This was the man he wanted by his side when he achieved his dream, the one he wanted to kick ass with and raise havoc all over the world's seas until his dying breath.

"Marry me," the swordsman heard himself whisper in between kisses, his voice low and breathy. The warmth of Zoro's reddening face began to rise to a boil. Shit! He definitely didn't mean to say that out loud!

Sanji gasped, pushing back on his shoulders to stop the barrage. His jewel-like blue eye bored into Zoro's, systematically gauging some unknown quantity behind the swordsman's gaze with chilly seriousness.

Zoro rubbed the back of his neck, quickly explaining himself. "Cook, I, uh, might have gotten a little carried…"

"Alright," the cook replied.

"What?!" Zoro exclaimed, nearly falling out of the hammock.

"I'm saying yes, idiot," Sanji sighed, his raw happiness hard to disguise in the way his hands glided affectionately over the swordsman.

Zoro grabbed his lover, his hands all over him, their mouths repeatedly confirming the powerful feelings between them that reverberated like chills through their entire bodies.

Impatient kisses turned into slow, languid ones as drowsiness beckoned once again like a soothing lullaby. The scent of the ocean and cigarette smoke invoked scattered scenes of pleasant memories as Zoro pressed his face into Sanji's hair.

They drifted to sleep with their bodies curled around one another, neither of them realizing that the tiny beginnings another weft was busily knitting itself together in the red thread that proudly draped over them.