Breakup -ZoSan- pt1

Warning:  This story contains 'boy love'.


Part One
“Nami-swan!  Robin chwan!”  Sanji pirouetted across the upper deck, laden tray perfectly balanced on one outstretched hand.  Coming to a stop between the lounge chairs the ladies currently occupied, he crooned.  “Please take these tokens of my love and refresh yourselves!”

The cook basked in the glow of their attention as both glanced up from their respective reading to accept a drink with murmured appreciation.  The hearts in his eyes danced with giddy happiness as he made his way back to the galley, oblivious to his surroundings.

Which was probably why he didn't notice Zoro's prone form next to the mast until he found himself sprawled across the other man.  

“Oi!”  The swordsman's eyes cracked open to glare at the blonde.  “Bastard, watch where you're fucking going!”  Strong hands closed on Sanji's shoulders and thrust him violently from his lap.

“Fuck you, too,” Sanji spat, standing to dust himself off.  “Maybe if you didn't just flop down to sleep where people *walked*...”

“Well *maybe* if you stopped chasing skirts all the goddamn time, you could think about where you were going!”

“Ooooooh,” the cook sang sarcastically, crouching down to eye level with the green-haired man.  “Is Zoro-chan jealous?”

Emerald eyes narrowed dangerously.  Heaving himself to his feet, Zoro stalked off towards the mikan grove without another word.  

“Ha, I knew it!”  Deft fingers plucked a fresh cigarette from his jacket pocket and struck a match, setting the tip alight.  Blowing a lazy cloud of smoke towards the retreating swordsman, Sanji gestured after him with the smoldering end.  “You *are* jealous.”  

The clunk of Zoro's boots on the deck fell silent as he paused, not looking at the blonde.  “You really don't know when to shut up, do you?”  And with that, he continued on.

* * *

Dinner that night was nothing new.  Everyone fought to keep their food from the bottomless pit that was their captain, jokes and insults flowed as freely as the rum, and Sanji hovered over the women.  Well, perhaps he hovered more than was normal, if Zoro's glowering face was any indication.  Sanji simply smirked and pretended that he didn't notice.  

* * *

The cook hummed quietly to himself as he finished up the evening chores.  Slipping his pink apron over his head, he dropped the loop over its hook by the door.

Said door swung open unexpectedly, clipping him hard in the ankle.  Sanji yelped, staggering back to land heavily on a bench and massage the tender injury with both hands.  The familiar thud of booted feet entering the galley snapped his attention up to Zoro's face.  “You. Fucking. Bastard,” the cook snarled dangerously.  

“Che, get over it, you pansy.”  Wood screeched against wood as he pulled out the bench opposite Sanji and sat down.  “We need to talk.”

“Yeah, I think we do.  I wanna know what's got a sword lodged up your ass.”  He paused.  “If you can rub two brain cells together long enough for coherent conversation, that is.”

“Will you just *shut up*!”  The swordsman roared, fist crashing down on the table, causing the cook to flinch involuntarily.  “Can you stop snarking at me for five minutes and listen for once in your goddamn life?!”

Sanji crossed his arms across his chest sulkily.  “Fine.  What do you want to talk about?”

Fingers ran through sea-green hair in exasperation.  “You.  Me.  Us.  Hell, I don't even fucking know what exactly 'us' is.  But you-” he thrust a finger at the cook,  “are pissing me off with your attitude towards the whole situation.”

The blonde snorted. “Attitude?”

“Yeah, attitude.  Like how you couldn't give a damn about me unless you want to fuck.  But you could waste an entire day fawning over those girls like your damn world revolves around their happiness.”  An uncharacteristic sigh emerged from the swordsman.  “I'm not asking for the same treatment, 'cause I'd kill you if you tried that crap.  I just wish you'd... you'd... shit.”  The sound of flesh striking wood resounded in the small room as Zoro smacked the tabletop, eyes moving to lock with the cook's.  “Can you at least act like you gave a damn about how I feel?”

Face unreadable, Sanji sat quietly through the swordsman's lengthy soliloquy.  “So you *are* jealous.”

“Fuck, cook.”  The faintest tint of rose colored his cheeks almost imperceptibly.  It was clear his next words cost him dearly.  “Yeah.  I'm jealous.  Happy?”

There was a pause.  Azure eyes watched Zoro carefully before Sanji stood, bracing his skinny arms against the table as he leaned forward.  “Newsflash, asshole.  There is no 'us'.”  His eyes narrowed.  “There never was, nor will there be.  I thought you understood that, but I guess I gave you too much credit.”  Plucking the spent butt from between his lips, he jammed it down into the ashtray with perhaps more force than was necessary, eyes downcast.  “You were just an easy way to relieve some tension, nothing more.”

Zoro's eyes burned with anger.  “Tension, huh?”  He stood, movements jerky, and knocked the bench over in his haste.  “You could have fucking fooled me, shitty cook.   Tension,” he spat, glaring daggers at the blonde.  “You were so goddamn *tense* that you needed *my* help to relieve it almost every day for the past few weeks?”  He tugged fingers through his hair furiously, normally low voice rising in volume.  “That's it, huh?  You could have *fucking* fooled me, you goddamn shitty bastard!”

“Shut up!”  Sanji yelled, his own cheeks flushing; he couldn't look at the swordsman as his voice dropped to a near-inaudible whisper.  “I... we… it was a mistake.”

Zoro simply glowered, stomping over to the galley door and wrenching it open.  He glanced back, shadows shrouding his face, bitter laughter ringing out sharp and accusing.  “You take care of your own needs from now on then, bastard.  Don't come crawling to me.”

“Fine!”  The blonde ground through clenched teeth.

“Good!”

“All right!”

Silence.

“Now get out of my kitchen,” Sanji whispered.

“What?  Speak up, shitty cook.”

“I said, get the fuck *out*!”  The ashtray flew through the air and clattered off the door frame, punctuating the cook's words.

“Sit in here and sulk, then!”

The door slammed, and Sanji slid his head to the table with a groan in the sudden silence.  His head had told him he needed to end this mess with the jealous swordsman, but why did it hurt so goddamn much?