Hi everyone. This is the first proper piece of fanfiction that I've written in about three years. Not only that, it marks my first ever attempt at any kind of romantic anything. Well, it's not really romantic...it's more like a strange sort of tension. And worst part is that I got the idea for this when I was watching an oh-so-innocent re-run of Full House...I know I'm a sicko.

I do not own One Piece in any way, shape, or form.

Shameless

A lazy ring of smoke wafted through the air as slender fingers stubbed out the cigarette butt in their grasp. Sometimes, it wasn't worth fighting for things like a quick fix of nicotine-Chopper had directly ordered him not to smoke around the 'patient.' Sanji didn't particularly care if he was discovered; that wasn't it at all. What disturbed him was that he derived no pleasure from the act-he didn't even want a cigarette in the goddamned first place. He had only desired a momentary amusement; some shred of normality, to distract him from the aggravating task which he had been expressly assigned.

A low sigh escaped the cook as his line of vision shifted back onto his current charge. The blonde had been hanging off the back of the same chair in the Going Merry's cabin for quite a while now, positioned at the bedside of a soundly sleeping cabbage-head.

"Shit swordsman," he grunted loudly. The chef would never have even been in this position, in the first place, if Nami-san had not asked him so sweetly to stay and watch over their crewmate. The navigator had left with Chopper to find some sort of herb or something after they had docked at the current random port on the Grand Line...she had insisted upon accompanying the little reindeer so that he would not be cheated out of extra money at the apothecary. Robin had been sitting on deck reading for hours and, being the gentleman that he was, Sanji was unable to ask her to keep an eye on Zoro instead. Usopp was naturally running around being an idiot, collecting random items for his latest invention-the sniper was too busy to have any part of such a boring job. And as for Luffy-he was god-knows-where, probably off eating some meat at a local restaurant...

This was not how the blonde had intended to spend his afternoon-not by any stretch of his imagination. Sitting around watching his idiot crewmate sleep had been boring him to tears. The only thing that consoled the cook was that the swordsman wasn't snoring...he was quiet and still, most likely due to his new injury of the week. Usually, the jerk wasn't down for this long...it had already been about a day since he had been stabbed in the shoulder. Sanji had his own souvenirs from that fight in the form of some annoying bruises and some light slices. Nothing too bad.

Chopper had been speculating on the swordsman's injuries, thinking that perhaps the blade that stabbed him had been tipped with some form of poison. This was of course because the first mate would have, in almost any other circumstance, been up doing his katas on the deck like usual. The fever that the sleeping man had contracted, this morning, was as good as proof to the doctor. ...And this was why he was out getting supplies with lovely Nami-san while the chef was left to rot.

The blonde let his eyes drift slowly over the body before him-at least the marimo wasn't nearly as annoying while he was asleep. In fact, Sanji mused while reaching for his cigarettes, he was far more pleasant this way...

He chewed on one of the sticks of tabacco in annoyance, simultaneously digging in both pants pockets for his lighter. The blonde patted down all of his remaining pockets, then checking in the pockets of his black suit jacket that was draped over his chair. "What the? Where is it?" he muttered in frustration.

The cook jumped up from his chair, once more taking inventory of every one of his pockets. This was getting annoying. A sudden explosion rocked the ship, the blonde crying out as he lost his balance. His eyes widened past their usual half-lidded gaze as the truth dawned on him.

"Usopp!" he bellowed, clenching his fist. Pounding footsteps were coming across the deck outside. The door of the cabin swung open, the sniper's soot-black face popping in.

"I'm almost done with it! I just borrowed it for a second! I'll give it back in a little while!"

The door had slammed closed again before Sanji was able to shout the string of curses running through his head. He shouted them anyhow, finally cracking-he ripped the unlit cigarette from his teeth, the blond throwing it down angrily. He turned to the stagnating swordsman, approaching the side of the bed.

"This is all your fault, you shit swordsman." Just as he had spoken the words, the man below him had twitched slightly...it startled the cook a bit, watching as the swordsman's lips parted slightly. His tan skin was not as pale as it had been this morning...that was a pretty good sign, the chef supposed. His eyes couldn't help but roam over the man in front of him, trailing from his relaxed facial features to where his rippled stomach disappeared under the blanket of the bed. The white bandages surrounding his shoulder were bright against his skin, no longer holding a red bloodstain like before Chopped had changed them, this morning.

The chef was disturbed to find himself admiring the man's finely toned chest and arms-they had been finely tuned with endless hours of physical training. Each and every one had been carefully conditioned, leaving the swordsman with an optimal set of taut muscles. The long, raised scar that ran across them only proved to enhance their shape and further justify their presence. Any man who could survive such an injury was worthy of this excellent form-such muscles were not just for show.

Some part of the blond knew that he shouldn't be thinking any of his current thoughts...yet he wasn't able to stop himself. The man was completely unaware of the daze he was falling into. And suddenly, he had a strange urge to reach out and run his hand along them...to feel their sharp curves underneath his palm. This idea made his hand flex nervously. He wouldn't do it, of course...

That would be ridiculous. What if the cabbage-head woke up? What if Usopp came to bother him again? What if Nami-san and Chopper came back? Not only would he be caught feeling-up his ill crewmate but he would lose any and all chances that he'd ever had of getting with Nami-san or Robin-chan...But his eyes continued staring down on that fine set of muscles, trailing up the swordsman's chest to his neck... And then, ever so slowly, the chef's eyes settled on Zoro's face.

Sanji had curiously began to study the man's features. The chef had never bothered to look very closely before, now finding himself fascinated by the lines and angles of what he had previously described as a "marimo-head." It left him with a strange feeling of need, the blonde's hand creeping out towards the sleeping man...god; he just couldn't help himself. The temptation was gnawing at him.

The pale hand froze in midair as his thoughts fled back to safer topics-like the two lovely ladies he was luck enough to have as his crewmates: Nami and Robin. Surprisingly, no flutter came to his stomach. No matter how much he swooned for their attention, the two women really didn't seem to care about him more than any pirate would care for another crewmate. But, more often than not, he was fooled so strongly by the promise of something more that he was willing to do a marathon of back-flips for either of them.

His hand crept a few centimeters closer to his goal before stopping once more. Maybe he really didn't love either of them; maybe he never would. Maybe he was just a pathetic love-cook, after all-one who was so starved for attention that he would chase almost any woman he saw, in the hopes that one might like him back. Unfortunately he had been rather unlucky with this, so far...

And now, here he was with this excellent specimen just laid out in front of him like a birthday cake. Heaven knows that the swordsman slept like a rock and, combined with some poison and a stab-wound, he wouldn't be much likelier to awaken... Sanji reached out to slap his own hand away in frustration, letting out a mumbled variation of the string of curses he had used earlier.

It must have been some sort of cosmic joke, the chef mused, that he could be so entranced with the body of a man-a man that he usually disliked quite strongly. But instead of being downright annoying with his annoying voice and annoying face and annoying everything...he was quiet and peaceful. His usually distasteful expression was relaxed and his rough voice had been silenced. While Zoro slept, he was a neutral being who no longer hated Sanji. So, the cook decided, it was all right for him to continue his current line of thought...for if Zoro didn't hate him, then the chef had no reason to hate Zoro. Thus it was officially excusable.

"...That's it," his quiet voice conceded. A pale arm was extended a moment later, the slender fingers trembling slightly as they lightly stroked at the swordsman's cheek. The blond was startled at the contact but pleased by it at the same time...a strange feeling was going through him. He stroked the man's cheek once more, this time allowing his skin to touch his crewmate's more fully...and his fingers continued, dancing down his neck and then moving carefully across his muscular chest.

Sanji exhaled softly, aware of something inside of him melting. That wasn't a good sign. The cook knew that this could never be allowed to happen again. If he enjoyed it too much, there would be nothing but trouble for him in the future. His hand was still caressing the swordsman's chest as he realized that this had already gone way too far-the whole situation had spiraled out of the blonde's control. And now he couldn't stop. It was too late.

The chef's hand seized up abruptly as a groan of discomfort and the jangling of three golden earrings echoed throughout the silent cabin. Shit! Zoro's head rolled across the pillow, the man's calm expression changing to a pained one. He was starting to wake up.

Sanji's hand was frozen against the swordsman's taut muscles, the cook's mind going blank with a mix of indescribable embarrassment and panic.

BLAM!

The cook's saving grace came in the form of a massive explosion from the deck-the caravel gave a mighty lurch, literally throwing Sanji's thin form across the man in bed. Zoro gave a muffled cry of agony as the lanky blond was hurled on top of him, his eyes popping wide open. The man was writhing in pain beneath him as the blond scrambled back onto the cabin floor with eyebrows furrowed.

"What the fuck was that!"

Zoro, however, had once more fallen limply against his pillow. The swordsman was taking death breaths of air, brow furrowed in agony. "...Y-you spiral bastard!" he coughed out weakly, still looking feverish.

"Shaddup!" Sanji yelled, jumping to his feet once more. "I've had to sit here and watch you sleep for an hour while Nami-san and Chopper are out!"

The blonde traded a few more insults with the swordsman, mainly to re-establish their previous relationship in his mind. The object of his affections was no more-that muscular, well-built body had once again become possessed by Zoro. The green-haired man did not inject his usual bitter fervor into his comebacks. Sanji wrote this off to the fact that he still had poison in his system. And, after the cook's final use of the term "cabbage head," Zoro let out a deep breath of air and began to lose himself to unconsciousness once again.

The blond knew that he couldn't stay in the cabin anymore-he might be tempted towards a repeat of his earlier performance. He simply couldn't allow himself anything of the sort. No matter how much he wanted it, he knew it could never continue. The sooner he crushed his own hopes, the better.

So, Sanji let his hand hover over the knob of the cabin door for a moment, listening as the swordsman's breathing slowed back down. He turned the brass knob with a slight creak, freezing his movements with a start as he heard a voice from behind him.

"Hey cook," Zoro's quiet voice called after him. The blonde did not turn to face him. "...You're shameless."

Sanji made no response as he hurried from the room.

And only the swordsman's weak laughter was at his back.

Well, there you have it. I had a fun time writing this-its main purpose was to keep me busy me as I wait for the next chapter of Tiger Hunt. So yeah, I know I'm pathetic. But hey, if you liked it then leave me a review... I might be tempted to write some more stuff.

Thanks for reading!