Chapter 12

Backseat serenade
Dizzy hurricane
Oh god, I'm sick of sleeping alone
You're salty like a summer day
Kiss the sweat away
To your radio

You take me over
I throw you up against the wall
We've seen it all before
But this one's different
It's deliberate

You send me reeling
Calling out to you for more
The value of this moment lives in metaphor
Yeah, through it all

Backseat serenade
Dizzy hurricane
Oh god, I'm sick of sleeping alone
You're salty like a summer day
Kiss the sweat away
To your radio

Everybody who've ever worked in a bar or restaurant on New Year's Eve knows one thing for sure: it is literally impossible to get prepared for it. You think you are but at the end of the night, you feel like a beaten warrior freshly off the war.
Sanji, who's seen so many nights like this was hard to surprise – but these people were trying their best for sure. They were party veterans – dancing all night, some on the tables but most, thankfully on the dancefloor, and ordering drinks and food like a giant flood so when the cook finally caught a break, the first dim rays of the new years' sun was blinding him through the window next to the bar, where he'd collapsed and was itching for a cigarette.

It was 4.30 in the morning and the last guests had just left. They were funny people, but Sanji was glad for the quiet. His ears were still ringing a little.

"Don't you whine eggplant" came a gruff voice from behind the blond's back. Sanji didn't even bother to turn, just pressed half of his face to the cold glass.

"I haven't said anything old man. Don't you have someone else to bother?"

"Not since I sent your basalt-headed friend home."

Well this picked Sanji's attention.

"What?" he demanded.

"The guy. Tanned skin, hard features, and green hair. Default frown. Rings any bells?" Zeff asked as he strolled past Sanji.

"You sent him home?" the blond felt an odd disappointment in his stomach.

"Yeah. 'Bout two hours ago, with a load of leftovers and a Johnnie Walker. He came here but you were ass-deep taking orders so he used the back door out. Also sent you this."

He handed a piece of paper and the cook took it. It was the date and place of their late-new years' party which the blond already knew everything about – it was the same every year afterall – but somehow it brought a stupid smile on his face. His thoughts were already back on the little kiss they'd shared way after the countdown. Had the swordsman done that only because of the tradition? Yet the way he'd looked at Sanji just before he'd leaned close was giving him reason to hope for… something more. Something that made his chest flutter and his blood flow faster in his veins, despite the hours he'd worked through. He was a little embarrassed at how giddy the memory made him.
But no matter how he looked at it, his first day of 2015 was definitely highlighted.

"Quit staring you scrawny sea-mammal and make yourself useful!"

"Who's the sea -mammal you oversized kitchen-rat?!" the blond snapped and pushed the paper in his pocket, and went to collect the dirty glasses. The sooner they finished the earlier he could go to bed.

~oOo~

Zoro was thinking about panicking. Actually, he was more like doing the panicking than just thinking about it, but he came to the conclusion that it was stupid and never lead anybody anywhere. Also it was so unlike him that it could actually tear the fabric of space and time.

So Zoro wasn't panicking anymore. He could be called nervous, maybe. A little. Maybe enough nervous not to drink the bottle of booze the weird headchef had given him a few days before, but hey, that just added another to the amount of bottles he was carrying towards Franky's house.

There was already music flowing from the dimly lit windows. Zoro was a few hours late thanks to the stupid traffic – the swordsman just couldn't wrap his head about why they changed the names of streets so often. He was about to start worrying his bike was going to stop working in the middle of nowhere and he'd have to walk to the nearest gas station – he didn't really want to risk that – when he finally found the right road and the engine fought its long way up heroically. And only died on the last ten minutes of the ride, so he had to push it up to the walkway. It was refreshing.

Thankfully the door wasn't locked, so the swordsman could ease his way inside without banging loudly on it.

The moment he was inside he recognized the familiar sounds of a videogame party over the music in the background. He walked in and saw Luffy pouting on the floor as Usopp fistpumped the air triumphantly. He'd easily whipped their captain's arse in Saint Seiya again.

Zoro snickered. It was amusing how a great fighter like him could be this bad at videogame combat.

"Oh, hey Zoro!" chirmed Chopper from the sofa, covered in candy wrappers. Zoro smiled and waved at the kid.

"You took your time!" Luffy whined, turning quickly back to the screen with full determination. "Sanji didn't let me eat the pizza until you' were here! Even if I told him you hate bacon and chicken slices!"

"Actually I love beacon and chicken slices."

"That's not the point!"

"Oh."

"You should probably get it swordsman-san before our captain looses it."

"I'm not losing anything here!" the dark haired kid roared, eyes glued to the screen while his fingers moved frantically over the control buttons, the tip of his tongue poking out his mouth. "I'll kick anyone's asses! Even Nami's!"

"What was that?" the red haired girl tone held that dangerous sweetness and Zoro decided it was time to leave. He'd seen the following scenario many times, and either Luffy was really that stupid to taunt the red witch, or was a secret masochist.

The green haired man's stomach rumbled. He hadn't eaten anything since breakfast and bringing the bike up all the way, had left him starving.

However, getting food meant going to the kitchen.

And kitchen usually meant Sanji.

The same Sanji, whom he'd very much kissed on New Year's Eve. And just for a little longer than when it could've been played off as nothing. Still not nearly long enough to satisfy him.

He'd expected the kiss to soothe the ache which had been growing inside him for months, and that his nerves would chill down a little now. God could have a little mercy on him, just this one time.

No such luck, of course.

Zoro sighed and rubbed his hands at the back of his neck. Hellboy was totally right, his insides felt like a goddamn amusement park and it had been driving him crazy. He hadn't been able to focus and meditate the past week, and there are probably new callouses on his right hand now.

Further explanations are unnecessary.

The most nagging question was what to do now. After weighing all his options – including acting like nothing had happened, to straight up skipping the party – he decided to stick to the most risky one.

Because if anything, Zoro wasn't a coward, and this would not be the time he'd start acting like one.

He wanted Sanji. Maybe he'd been wanting him fromfar before that night at the Baratie – but he'd needed the close proximity, to hold the blond in his arms and feeling the other man cling to him to realize. And even if the realization hadn't come fast, it'd come hard enough to leave him knocked out and a little breathless.

He stepped into the kitchen and let the plastic bag drop on the right edge of the doorway, making the bottles cling together. The cook, who had been preoccupied with whatever he was doing on the other side of the counter perked up at the sound, snapping his head around. Then his face contorted to a painful grimace the next moment, his hand massaging his neck, trying to ease the pain the strained nerve had caused. Zoro knew how awful a whiplash felt and his lips turned to a sympathetic half-smile.

"Jumpy, aren't we cook?"

"I thought Luffy was sneaking up on me again" he hissed and let his hand slide down his neck to drop by his side. Zoro smirked, it was nice to see the cook at ease in his own territory, wearing an apron as he always did when Zoro saw him cooking at his home. This one however, was a red one, with a big 'Aloha' written with white letters on top and a cartoonishly drawn dick under it, dancing in a hula-skirt and a chef's hat. It was so ridiculous the swordsman didn't even have to think to know it belonged to Franky.

He kind of wished for the pink one though. It was a strange addiction he'd developed through the rare afternoons when he was watching the blond cook, putting his mind to rest while his eyes followed the fluid movements of his back, or the slight bouncing as he tapped the floor with his bare feet on the rhythm of a song he was humming under his breath. It was simply endearing until a dream about Sanji wearing nothing else but that, which turned the innocent scene to one of his favourite private fantasies.

Not in this red one though. It was just ridiculous.

"Earth to Marimo" Zoro flinched as the cook snapped his fingers in front of his eyes. "Hey, welcome back. Where were you?"

"Apron" the word slipped through the swordsman's lips before he could stop it. The heat immediately started to rise to his cheeks but the blonde just raised an eyebrow and glanced down.

"Yeah… we bought it for Franky's last birthday" he said, tugging at the fabric."It seemed like a good idea but I'm not that sure, now that I have to wear it."

"Pfff" the swordsman snickered. The blonde turned back with a half-shrug.

"What are you making anyway? "the green haired man asked, stepping closer. "I heard we have pizza."

"Do you like pizza?"

Zoro stopped behind Sanji's back. The cook hadn't looked at him and something sounded a little off in his voice.

"Yeah, I'm ok with it. Not on the universal 'everyone loves pizza' level, but I don't mind it once in a while. Bonnie's was especially good."

"Ah, ok. They are in the oven though, take them out and bring them to the others. I'll be right there in a minute."

Zoro's frown deepened. He glanced behind at the brightly lid oven at the other end of the kitchen, then back at the cook's back.

"What are you making?" he asked, more curious, leaning to look over his shoulder.

"Back off" the cook snapped, showing him off. Zoro felt irritation grow in his chest. What the hell?

"Fat chance, shitcook." He growled and shot out his hand, shoving him aside. The blonde staggered and the riceball fell from his hands with a soft 'thump'.

"Fuck you bastard" the blonde fussed, trying to get the bits from the sink, but Zoro ignored it. He was stunned by the five, perfectly shaped riceballs sitting in front of him on a small wooden tray.

"You… made these? Onigiri? For me?"

Sanji puffed out a sigh and dryed his hands with a cloth, purposefully avoiding the other man's gaze.

"Well, yeah shithead, I just thought you might miss some…" the cook could go only this far, before the swordsman pushed him against the nearest wall, locking their lips.

Sanji didn't even have time to react. His body went rigid and mind shut down with his arms frozen in mid-raise next to the swordsman's sides.

The green haired man however noticed the lack of response and pulled back. It wasn't even on the proper scales of 'dumb' – he might have just created a new level of stupidity. He had to say something to save this somehow.

"I'm so—"

"Tss, shut up" Sanji whispered quickly, clasping a hand over his mouth. With his other, he grabbed the green man's shirt and dragged him into the storage room, kicking it closed behind them.

Well Zoro was prepared for anything. Large knives and death-threats, at the very least.

Definitely not for the cook's lips on his though. Which doesn't mean he hadn't been hoping – he just thought it was as likely to happen as Luffy gaining a PhD in astrophysics.

Well, if the sentiment goes, their captain had to be a goddamn hidden genius.

The cook's lips were more firm and demanding than his were before. They were speaking of heat and hunger. Before Zoro knew it, Sanji had licked his way into his mouth and buried his fingers in his hair.

The kisses quickly turned heavy and open mouthed. Zoro opened his eyes to look at the cook's face – the blush staining his cheeks was still noticeable despite the semi-darkness. His bangs parted slightly so he could see both of his eyes now – they were shut tightly, and his brows furrowed in concentration on kissing the hell out of him. And boy was he good. Zoro could easily hold out without oxygen for the rest of his life if it meant the cook would keep on kissing him.

"Sanji…" he whispered into his mouth.

"Not yet…" the cook's voice came husky and cracking. He turned his head to change the angle and licked along the roof of the swordsman's mouth, earning a small moan and tightening hands on his hips in reward.

Zoro's head started to spin. He was having like a dozen questions. Or just a few he should think about. Like what all of this meant? Was the cook acting on instinct or does he wants him at least half as much as Zoro does? That would be more than enough because the swordsman's mind was so wrapped around the cook he had trouble to focus on anything else. If he could translate the cook's soft lips and tongue, his stupid goatee burning against his skin and the fingers entangled in his hair, then they might say he was trying to makes sure the swordsman wouldn't escape.

His hands slid further down, over the nice curve of the cook's ass and squeezed, pressing his hips closer. It drew a soft, whimpering gasp from the blond. He broke away, and started planting small kisses on his cheekbone and ear, Sanji worked his way down to Zoro's throat, sucking on the sensitive skin just under his ear.

How Sanji found all the right places, Zoro had no idea, but it took all his willpower to hold on to his self-restrain . Because, you know, the whole crew in the hall. And pizza in the oven, which will draw a bold Luffy to the kitchen sooner rather than later, most likely. And from that will come the question of their whereabouts, which will be quickly discovered by the sounds they were pulling out off each other.

They can't do it in the storeroom.

He swallowed back a moan as Sanji bit on the crook of his neck.

"Sanji…" he said, lacing his fingers around the cook's upper arms.

"Wha—"

The swordsman gulped as he tried to divert his focus from the hot breath on his skin. He had to be reasonable here.

"They're gonna come."

"So are you."

Zoro's breath hitched as a new wave of arousal hit him. When did the blond become this determined? Zoro's stubborn hands were still over the cook's perfect ass, drawing him closer, while his thumbs slid under the waistband. His body didn't give a fuck about reasons.

"Luffy" the swordsman gulped. "He'll come for the pizza's."

"He can have them" the cook muttered, sliding his hands under Zoro's blue hoodie and splaying his fingers over his torso. Sanji let out a breathy moan and leaned closer, so Zoro could feel his hard erection pressing against his thigh.

The blue irises were half-lidded and heavy with lust.

The sight made Zoro's mouth water and something tremble inside his body.

"I bet you're loud" his thought slipped from his mouth without a chance to stop the words. Damnit. Zoro had enough issues around the guy already, especially when they got in three meter's proximity – which he always did, because, what was personal space even? - But toss a big amount of horniness and determination to the mix and the green-haired man's mental filter flies away with the morning birds.

Whatever Sanji was about to say died in his throat and his hands tightened around Zoro's sides. For a moment, the green-haired man thought he'd said something wrong until he was how the blonde was biting on his lips, sucking the bottom into his mouth.

"You are, aren't you?"

The swordsman practically saw the heat rising up his cheeks as the cook attempted a glare, without any conviction. But trying to use the moment of stillness, the swordsman thought of another idea to reason with.

"We should take this somewhere else. You'd hate to do it near to the food wouldn't you?"

But what Zoro got wasn't quite the horrified realization he was aiming for. Something heavy and longing flashed in the blue irises and the swordsman felt the cook's hip jerk up against his own, rubbing their hardened lengths together. Sanji's hands moved even further, lifting Zoro's shirt up enough to expose his bare stomach until they were clutching in his hair, drawing him closer.

„Shut up" the blonde licked his lips as if getting thoroughly fucked in the food store was one of the kinkiest thoughts he could ever come up with. Judging by the heat radiating from his body, and the force by which he clashed their mouths together, it probably was. Then his hands were slowly moving again, his nails and fingertips caressing down his back, and digging under the green haramaki. The blond grunted and the swordsman shuddered a little as the cook's fingertips caressed the sensitive skin just above his ass. Well, the swordsman hadn't known it was sensitive, until this point. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was just the blond.

The cook let out another displeased grunt.

"I want you out of this stupid piece of clothing."

Zoro's eyes widened a fraction. It was quite amusing how the cook sounded, as if the belly-warmer had personally offended him.

"Well, it was your fucking present to me" the swordsman said, not at all trying to hide how the cook's anger entertained him.

"Ugh don't even remind me, I wanted to rip it off of you the moment you put it on." He was about to yank at the damned clotch again when they heard delicate, but sure steps coming into the kitchen. The heels were hitting a calm, even clap-clap-clap before coming to a halt.

Sanji looked at the swordsman's face and Zoro turned from looking at the door into the dark, deep blue irises.

"Robin-chan" he mouthed soundlessly, making Zoro roll his eyes. Of course the girl-crazy cook would recognize who the steps belonged to. He tried to convince himself it wasn't irritating him soas much as it did.

On the other hand, it was Sanji, who was climbing onto him just a half minute ago, and clapped his hand over the green haired man's mouth to silence him, completely unnecessarily.

On a whim, Zoro licked the cook's palm, as long and wet as he could. It took everything from Sanji not to make a loud sound of disgust, and wiping his hand. Sanji sent his best deathglare at the swordsman's smug face.

The clapping of the heels started up again and faded slowly towards the living room. The cook let out a breath and his shoulders dropped.

"Hey" the swordsman said and the blonde turned to face him again, only to be captured by the swordsman's lips. It made the cook jump a little, but just when he felt his body relax and melt against the other, Zoro pulled back.

"Patience shitcook. It would be too suspicious if we'd just disappear don't you think?" He was whispering his words just milimeters from the blonde's face, eyes still locked at his bruised, half-open mouth. It was extremely distracting, for both sides. "Are you gonna leave them without food? Luffy's gonna eat Usopp by the morning and I betcha he doesn't taste half as good as the meal in the oven… or the one who made it."

The cook felt his libido rise at the innuendo and let Zoro steal another small peck from his lips before they were ready to part. He opened the door red faced, and admittedly a little weak in the knees, but in the brief knowledge that a certain swordsman was following him closely, eyes glued on his ass.

This was going to be a long night.

~oOo~

It certainly was going harder than Zoro had expected. The first two went down relatively easy, but after the third tequila, the cook's laughter got louder and high pitched.

Which would be funny, if only the cook hadn't been sliding closer to him every time he leaned back. At this point, barely halfway through Nami's drinking game, their fingers were inches away from each other and their shoulders brushed occasionally as the blond was swaying slightly in his seat. And with every sway and sudden movement, he got a nice view of the cook's neck and collarbones through the opened buttons on the top of the blond's shirt.

Shit. Zoro might have a problem if such a small patch of skin could make him all hot and bothered like that. For one horrifying moment, a certain part of Moulin Rouge's 'Like a Virgin' flashed before his eyes, making him curse Nami into eternity for blackmailing him into watch it.

"Zoro!"'

The sudden call of his name made him jump and rip his eyes from the point where the cook's bangs met his neck under his ear and look at his surroundings. Everybody was watching him expectantly, including Nami, who was smiling at him over the pointing end of the bottle with a catlike grin.

Again, shit.

"Zoroooo…" her voice was almost a purr. The exact same tone she used while raising his debt. It had a pavlovian effect on him, lighting a big red alarm in his head.

He knew the wiser thing was to stay quiet and play nice, if he wanted to escape relatively unharmed.

"What do you want, witch?" he barked back instead.

Oh for fucks' sake, Zoro! he thought to himself.

"Truth or dare Zoro?" asked Vivi instead, cocking her blue haired head in his line of view. Nami was still looking at him with an ominous expression. There was something coy dancing in her eyes, and the wheels screeched in the swordsman's head – she'd noticed him staring at the blond. Observation was one of her main talents – and even if Zoro usually was a master in controlling his emotions, it wasn't his mind that had been in charge for the bigger half of the night. And that was enough for the red headed demon to notice something.

Truth? Hell no. The last thing he needed was another imbalancing event.

"Dare!" he yelled. And by the sight of Nami's expression, he instantly knew he'd fucked up.

"Ugh, bro, haven't you been here for the last hour?" Franky whispered, leaning closer and over Sanji. "Nami-sis gives the worst dares ever, not joking."

"Yea, uh, I still remember the lapdance she made you give me" groaned Usopp, visibly pained by the memory. Zoro really didn't need that mental image .

"Sorry bro. But I tried to make the best out of it" added the man with a shrug.

"I thought it was super" commented Robin serenely besides him and the man turned towards her in an instant.

"I would gladly give you one too. With all of the extra services."

"Oh, can I use my discount coupons?"

"I fear love I'm way too expensive, but I'll figure something out." Franky grinned down at her, showing his filthiest smile, and ugh, Zoro didn't need that mental image either.

On the other hand, the cook was strangely quiet beside him. The green haired man was still leaning over him a little. He glanced down but the blonde didn't meet his eyes. With lips just a tiny bit open, his own blue eyes downcast, glued to the swordsman's neck. He hadn't noticed him looking yet, but the swordsman could feel the cook's gaze caressing his skin and sliding over his pulse, hovering there under fluttering yellow lashes. Then the cook's Adam's apple bobbed softly and Zoro thought he might just loose it.

He needed a distraction, so he turned back to the game.

"So Zoro" Nami started the moment his ass hit the floor again. "I dare you too…" she dragged the word out and tapped her chin with a well-manicured finger as if thinking really hard. It was all play and bullshit though, Zoro was already familiar with the act. He mentally rolled his eyes and produced the most unimpressed face he could.

"…lick Sanji's eyebrow."

He might've just spat out his own spit.

"Wha-what?!" he managed, still coughing out the words.

"You heard it. You already have a weird fascination with them, judging on the amount of time you mention them, so go on, this is your chance. Lick it, big guy."

"I'm out."

"What?" asked Nami, cocking her head.

"You heard me. I leave the game" said the swordsman, getting ready to stand.

"Ow, come on bro you can't do that" whined the blue haired man on the left. "That's just – "

"Yeah Zoro, that's just-"

"I'll cut your dept by 20%, if you do it" Nami said, cutting off Sabo's protest.

There was dead silence for a good minute as everybody looked at the woman in shock. She had never offered a cut to anyone, let alone to her favorite slave.

Zoro turned slowly to meet the red-headed witch's high and steady gaze. He wouldn't care about a raise – he was already in lifelong debt of the demon- woman, but a cut off… that would be an entirely different matter.

He slowly lowered himself back to his place, accompanied by Luffy's loud cheering and Chopper's happy chirping, but most of the group just watched with high interest and equally raised eyebrows.

"Good" Nami purred, sitting back onto her heels. "Get on with it or I might take back my offer."

Zoro huffed and turned to the cook, cupping his chin with one hand. The blond looked back at him with one visible dilated, alcohol-hazy eye and smirked slightly. The swordsman didn't need much time to get the unspoken innuendo. He knew exactly what was going on in that perverted mind of his.

He sighed, willing his pulse to stay steady and leaned in. They were already close enough that he could feel his own breath ghosting over the cook's skin but the deep blue iris was still following him as he drew closer and Zoro's lips felt terribly dry all of a sudden.

"Minus 30% if you straddle his lap."

The murmur died down once again and Zoro looked back at her. Nami grinned and the room suddenly erupted in cheers and loud encouragements. Zoro whined, and, accompanied with loud go-go-go-s and you can do it bro!-s lifted a leg over the cook's long ones, settling down lightly. The blond's hands instantly flew to his waist, fingers pressing against the thick fabric of the haramaki.

Zoro's adam's apple bobbed as he looked down at the cook's blue eye and smug, grinning face.

"Your ears are so red" he whispered only for the two of them to hear.

"Shut up" Zoro snapped, but it only made the grin stretch wider on the blond's face.

"Zoro."

The room quieted down again.

"Do it slow and sensual and I'm cutting off another extra 5%."

Somebody whistled behind his back but Zoro ignored it. The heat from the blonde's skin warmed up his palms, and small patches of red coloured his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. It had been too dark in the goddamn storage room earlier to properly see, but now the swordsman was damn sure this was how the blonde must have looked like, grinding against him and arms around his neck, before he decided they had to stop and act like normal adults out here.

Zoro swor he'd hire somebody to shoot him, if he denied this horny, gorgeous blond ever again. Or if he simply let him out of reach.

The hooting got louder behind them and Sanji closed his eyes as the swordsman started leaning closer. And the swordsman swor he'd tilted his head upward a little bit so his eyes could fall on his soft pink lips, because that's the little shit who he was.

Well. Two can play that game. And if Nami's really gonna cut that extra 5 percent he might as well make a small show of it.

He let his thumbs caress across the blonde's sharp cheekbones while his hands slid further and his fingers buried deeper into the golden locks at the nape of Sanji's neck.

The blond let out a startled, shaky gasp and the swordsman grinned. It was also an interesting experiment.

He slid his fingers up and down Sanji's neck, fingernails scraping against the skin. From the small tremors of the cook's body it was a sensitive spot. The swordsman was very determined to find out as much as possible in the shortest amount of time. Although, he wouldn't mind taking longer if the circumstances were different.

His thumbs ran back along the blond's jaw to just below his lower lip, feeling the harsh hair of the goatee. The shaky breath carried a little sigh as it escaped between the blonde's parted lips, but he didn't pay attention. His gaze followed the thin path of his thumbs down Sanji's long neck, enjoying the soft twitch of muscles, the soft pink-ish flush of his skin, the rising heat under the opened collar.

Zoro wanted to touch and the cook seemed eager to lean in just as much. And he knew, if they don't end this soon one of them was gonna snap.

The swordsman shifted himself and raised above the blonde, fingers clenching in the blond hair and tilting his head again. He felt the cook's hands fisting into his clothes at his sides, which he took as encouragement and – instead of dragging the edge of his tongue slowly over the hairs of the curly line – licked a long wet stripe along the half of the cook's forehead.

Because that's just the little shit he was.

A shiver ran through Sanji's body and Zoro leaned back to watch the disgusted grimace spread over the cook's face. The group cheered behind his back.

"I bet you're glad you're still wearing that apron right now" Zoro whispered, grinning. Using the cook's hand, which he'd raised to wipe his forehead, to lean closer, he touched the tip of his nose to the blond's earlobe.

The cook tried to send a death glare, but the red hot flush over his features severely undermined the effect.

"I wouldn't talk like that if I were in your place" he answered on the same mocking, honey sweet voice, glancing down. " Adjust your haramaki before you sit down, you bastard."

~oOo~

"Well" said Nami after everybody returned to their place, clearing her voice "that production was clearly worth that 40%.

"Uhm, I think it was 35?" asked Vivi in a small, confused voice.

"Well they clearly more than filled that 5%" answered Robin with a hint of amusement, turning to the redhead. "Am I right, Nami?"

"I can't find a reason to object."

~oOo~

Several empty bottles and traumatic dares later, half of the crew were laying around, passed out or half dead on the hardwood floor.

As time went, the game quieted down to a soft murmur, and the crew scattered around, trying to find the most comfortable positions and fighting with drowsiness and, failing miserably.

Zoro's back was against a wall, enjoying it's cooling effect on his overheated body. It always happened when he drank a little too much, but now with two extra bodiesy leaning against him, it was much more disagreeable.

He glanced at the blond on his left. His arms were clumsily folded in his lap, head dropped against the swordsman's shoulder. Zoro wasn't sure if he was asleep or not, but except from the soft rising of his chest and the occasional twitch of his lips, he hadn't moved for the past ten minutes and his breath had evened out too.

Chopper wasn't a surprise. As the night went on and the signs of tiredness appeared on his face, the little guy had slowly gravitated towards him. Somewhere between Franky getting his toenails painted by Usopp, and Luffy eating a raw broccoli, the kid had draped himself over the blonde and rested his head on the swordsman's thigh.

The green-haired man let his head fall back too, stroking the kid's hair and was contentedly looking at the crew through half-lidded eyes.

The sight was post-apocalyptic – Luffy was upside down, his feet sticking to the air against the opposite wall, his right hand dropped in an empty bowl of chips. Franky and Robin were a tangled mess but still conscious, while Vivi, Kohza, Sabo, Ace and Brook were snoring comfortably in a big puppy pile.

"Ugh, let's call it a night then" said Nami, scrambling unsteadily to her feet and looking around for usable members. She nudged the cook's leg and he, Franky and Zoro – after rolling Chopper gently to the side – took out the spare matrasses and dragged their friends into place, while the redhead draped blankets over them. In the darkness, all the noises quieted down, and Zoro thought he'd fall asleep the second his head hit the pillow.

"Uuuugh."

The swordsman looked at the blond sitting next to him, leaning back on his elbows.

"Are you going to throw up?"

"Shut up" Sanji groaned, squeezing his eyes. "The world'z fuckin' spins."

Zoro snickered.

"Do you need anything?"

"Time" Sanji rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked down. "I can't sleep until I sober up or I'll put a really dramatic end to the night. You can sleep though, it'll pass soon."

"Lightweigh."

"Fuck you."

"We were already at that point today."

Sanji let out a pained noise, and Zoro grinned, turning onto his stomach.

"How much time do you need?"

"An hour? Or so?"

"No problem" said the swordsman, stifling a yawn.

"What?"

"I'll wait with you."

"You wa-…what? Why?"

"Making sure your pansy ass survives the night."

"Go the fuck to sleep."

Zoro snickered and looked at the blonde in the darkness. The first pale light of the morning barely illuminated his features as he tiredly rubbed at his eyes.

"You didn't seem to have any problems just before."

"Yeah" the cook nodded, massaging his temples. "We were sitting, I guess."

"… do you think you could sleep like that?"

"What, sitting?"

"Yep." The green haired man turned, looking behind himself. "I could put my mattress against the wall and we could sit on yours."

Sanji seemed to consider this.

"That's surprisingly thoughtful of you, marimo. Let's do it."

In three minutes, they were huddled together, shoulder to shoulder, their backs against the mattress.

"You know what?" Sanji whispered and Zoro turned to him. "This is fuckin' stupid."

They looked at each other and erupted in muffled laughter. Then shuffled down comfortably, pulling the blankets to their chins.

"Also, really… nice."

"Mmmhm."

"Hey."

Zoro looked back and Sanji kissed him softly on the lips, then leaned back immediately.

"Is… this okay?"

Zoro grinned, and cupped his face in his hands.

"More than." The swordsman whispered, and kissed him back, long and slow. Sanji smelled like sweat, sweet alcohol and cigarettes, his hair damp at the back of his head. Zoro wanted to taste him more, to lick his way in and explore the inside his mouth. But, maybe it wasn't the best idea with one of them nauseous and the other had been drinking for the better half of the night.

So Zoro pulled back, rearranged the blankets over them, tugging the blond closer.

"Go to sleep, you curly loser."

"Shut your trap, useless moss. You stink."

Zoro smirked and the cook's head fell once again on his shoulder, trying to find a comfortable position, and probably failing miserably. Zoro was far from comfortable too, but it mattered less in that moment.

It was… warm.

TBC