Zoro Learns Some Manners

…so I’m just borrowing them for the sake of Yaoi. Once I’m done then I promise to wipe them off and give them back ;) Any resemblance to real people is coincidental - these characters are pure fantasy.


Warning: contains a lot of very strong language and steamy Yaoi / boysecks (Zoro x Sanji)


Well, I guess that when it rains, it pours. I’ll be busy with planning for AI CON (the Anime Island Convention in Tasmania) for the next week, and after that there will be the inevitable recovery period. I hope that this can tide you over ;) Only a couple of chapters to go! Sorry for the teaser at the end of the chapter with so little time left. Ok, I’m not that sorry XD


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The navigator leaned over the rail and tried to find the elusive ‘thing-on-the-horizon’ Zoro had been staring at for the last half an hour. They were due to get to the first of the winter islands at around four in the morning, but she knew there was no way he could see it from here.


“So, how are you?” She asked.


“What do you want?” Zoro replied, speaking out into the vast ocean.


“I can’t just ask my nakama how they are?” Nami was slightly affronted, but she was used to him, and he had a point. She didn’t really do anything without a reason.


“You can. You just wouldn’t.” The swordsman smirked into the breeze.


“Fine! I’m probably better off not knowing what’s happening in your head anyway. Who knows what horrors I might find?” She smirked back, letting a comfortable silence settle as she made herself at home. This was the way they had always been together. The others seemed to think that they hated each other, but it was far from the truth. Sure, they swore at, abused, and generally made life hell for each other, but that was just the way they were.


Zoro had grown up surrounded by fighters and she had grown up surrounded by mermen. Hard men have hard ways, and she knew that Zoro understood that. After so many years building up the armour to survive, it became a part of you. Part of the way you walked, the way you spoke, the way you interacted. So many people found her hard and brusque. So many people were afraid of her.


Not Zoro.


She abused and berated him and he just returned the favour. Sometimes he made out like it was all a terrible burden, and sometimes she made out that he was a hopeless idiot (true enough, actually), but they shared an understanding. In a world that was meant to be full of hardened men, they knew that there was one person that they could talk to without wearing the kid gloves. One person who wouldn’t just switch off the second that a home truth was spoken. One person who knew that a harsh word could be the best way to protect a broken and bleeding heart. And maybe even the way to put it back together.


“So are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to beat it out of you?” Nami asked.


“Like to see you try.”


“I’ll do it marimo. Don’t test me.”


Turned out this comment was the one that broke him. He actually laughed. “You sound just like Sanji.”


“Do I?” Nami said, letting his comments lead the conversation. Once Zoro knew she was gathering information, he would clam up like... well, a very grumpy green clam.


“Yeah, he’s always threatening to kick my ass, as if he could.”


“Maybe he thinks it’s the only way he can interact with you.”


“What, getting whooped? Funny way to communicate” Zoro scoffed.


“I guess.” He could talk!


“He probably just doesn’t like me.” The comment was flat, and he even accompanied it by picking fluff off his shirt, but it wasn’t fooling anybody.


Interesting, Zoro was actually fishing... looked like they both had something to learn. She considered her response carefully.


“I don’t know, he spends more time with you than anyone else.”


Zoro’s head moved ever so slightly away. The angle made it hard to read his expression.


“Yeah, getting his ass kicked. Idiot.” So he was still on the defensive.


“You guys have been training together though, haven’t you? Not just fighting.”


Zoro shuffled and nodded to the ocean.


“Why would he do that if he hates you, baka?”


The swordsman shrugged. He was fast retreating into Zoro’s private zone of introspection... A short sharp slap should do the trick.


“I can ask what he thinks if you like. I won’t say you wanted to know...”


“NO.” Zoro blurted out, far too fast.


“Oh really?” She turned to face him and let one eyebrow travel resolutely up her brow.


Zoro glared at her.


“Touchy, aren’t we?” She said.


“Shut up” Zoro replied, and marched off into the galley. Once upon a time he would have gone straight to the crow’s nest for solitary time. Now it seemed he had somewhere else to go for comfort.


This might be even weirder than she had thought.


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Robin watched Nami and Zoro interact. If she had wanted to, she could have heard what they were saying, but it would be much more pleasant to hear it from her.


Once the swordsman had marched off – to see Sanji no doubt – the archaeologist took his place at the wooden railing. The ocean was calm and the sky was scattered with tiny wisps of fast-moving grey cloud.


“So how is our lover-boy doing?” She asked quietly.


“Seems to be having some issues, actually” Robin smiled down at the red-head, who saw the look and offered a rejoinder, “more than usual.”


“Issues?”


That was an interesting word, especially for Zoro. Robin didn’t really know him very well, but he certainly didn’t strike her as the girly-heart-to-heart type. What could Nami have possibly said to get that much out of him? Bribes? Threats?


The mind boggled.


“Robin, this is going to sound bizarre, but...” Nami turned and faced her, the orange-red hair catching the sunlight, and billowing softly in the breeze, “do you think that there could be more to it than just sex?”


“Possibly.”


Nami considered this for a minute.


“Even though they’re both emotional retards?” The navigator frowned slightly, no doubt the result of her brain being taxed beyond all normal functioning parameters by the thought of those two being nice to each other.


“Even then.” Robin said softly. Even though they seemed so childish, those two men had a lot to offer each other. If only they could get the balance between them right. It would be terrible if they had a huge falling out and one of them ended up dismembered, or served in a pie… Luffy would probably eat it, for one...


“How could we have missed it?” Nami’s voice was only a whisper now, almost as if she was thinking out loud.


“Sometimes the most obvious things are the hardest to see.”


“Please don’t get too philosophical on me.” Nami sighed.


Robin chuckled. She really was a strange girl. Not to be deterred, the archaeologist re-phrased,


“How about this then: sometimes if you don’t know what to look for, you won’t see it even if it’s right before your eyes.” She looked deep into said wise brown eyes and wondered for the thousandth time how someone who was so clever could be so oblivious.


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Zoro marched into the galley muttering curses.


“Damn nosey sea witch... Always up to no fucking good...” Sanji was putting the dishes away. A polished black dress shoe with a tea cup balanced on it swept into Zoro’s field of vision, stopping inches from his face.


“What!?!” The swordsman barked.


“Don’t speak about Nami-chan like that.” Sanji’s voice was clear and low.


Great, he’d managed to piss him off practically before he even got in the door. Round of applause for that one.


“Sorry” he muttered, as he collapsed onto the nearest bench seat with a defeated slump.


The tea cup slowly lowered until it was level with his face again. With a lightning quick swipe, it was flipped onto the other side of the foot it was resting on and set on the shelf. The cook stared down at him with an expression halfway between annoyance and puzzlement. His eyes were wide. What, he’d pissed him off again already?


“So, how are you?” Sanji asked.


Zoro rolled his eyes, “You sound just like Nami.”


Fierce blue eyes bored into his, “And that’s a bad thing?”


“No.” And again, one more time just for effect. Now he was slumping so much he was in danger of sliding off the seat altogether. Damn it.


Sanji closed the cupboard doors and sat down opposite him.


The blonde had started to get used to his mooching around taking up space. No matter how much he chased Zoro out of the galley, he just came back in. Seemed like marimo was going to get Sanji’s attention no matter what. In the end it was much less humiliating for both of them to just let him sit there.


Although it was a bit of an understatement to call drowning in a puddle of your own luke-warm apathy ‘sitting’.


“So everything is fine then. Good.” The cook glared at Zoro, clearly expecting him to challenge that statement.


The swordsman didn’t really know what to say. Everything WAS good. He was in love, and the man he loved trusted him and his fighting prowess enough to risk his life on it. In Zoro’s limited experience, that was as good as life got.


Was it really not enough?


The swordsman got that pained expression. He looked like someone had stuck his head in a vice and started to turn the screws. He must be desperate if he was resorting to thinking this early in the day. Sanji wondered briefly if all the sawdust would run out… He didn’t seem any less moody either, despite the cook’s attempt to play nice. Getting touchy feely was quite a brave move really and shit head hadn’t even mentioned it!


Sanji felt a vague nagging unease. He still felt like Zoro wanted him to notice something and he had no idea what. He was pretty sure from Zoro’s constant grumbling that he wasn’t exactly thrilled. Maybe he was too much of an idiot to know how the speech went. It wasn’t that hard. He just had to open his mouth and say that he’d had his fun. The cook could take it.


He sighed.


It was typical. Just when he thought that there might be something... Zoro was the same as always. Was it just a random moment? Did he imagine the look in the swordsman’s eyes as he held his chin steady and made his promise?


He badly needed a return to normality.


“Good. Then help me with the drying.” He shoved a towel and a plate at the swordsman.


He didn’t understand why Zoro came here. He didn’t even make a pass sometimes. On reflection, maybe the fact that he hadn’t said anything about the cook’s gratitude was a good thing, Sanji had wondered if he would take a kind word well. They’d never really had much to say to each other that wasn’t banter, outright abuse, or talking dirty.


Sanji always assumed that Zoro didn’t really do emotions. He knew the guy must have a heart somewhere just because of how much he cared for his nakama. Sanji had seen that proved many times. But that was the loyalty of a warrior; the dedication to the people who you fight with… surely? Zoro hadn’t actually been with them this whole time because he liked them? Not just liked them, but really liked them?


Did he really know him at all?


If they could talk like that, without masks and daggers drawn... Even just a few words...


Still, it was hard to believe. The swordsman was grumpy and cold. He hadn’t melted when Sanji offered him an olive branch, he’d frozen. Even though he was nicer than ever, he was still distant; unreachable. He’d continued to add more strange behaviour to his repertoire: not being an ass all of the time, offering to help with the cooking, and the latest – the apology. Since when had Zoro said sorry? It was too fucking bizarre for words.


But it wasn’t as strange as how he felt. He kept seeing Zoro’s face as he promised to follow the cook’s wishes just once. He kept hearing his voice, and feeling his touch, unbelievably gentle on his face. And it wasn’t so hard to walk past Nami, because he had wanted to talk to Zoro. Only Zoro. He didn’t want to sit on the deck gazing at those lovely ladies. He wanted to sit in the galley and learn what the swordsman was thinking about when he looked so miserable.


And it scared him.


He didn’t get attached. It was something he learned when he was young, a façade of chivalry that bought all women close while simultaneously keeping them at a distance. He fell in love with the idea of a woman, with the concept of everything feminine and divine. He loved all women because they were women. It was impersonal, but it was pure and it was safe. Why did he like Zoro? He fit none of his previous ideals of beauty, he was difficult to understand, and most of the time he was just an asshole.


Why had he really stopped kicking the man out of his kitchen? And why the hell did he stay?


“Can I have a drink?” Zoro had straightened up and taken the towel. He seemed a little more relaxed.


“It’s eleven in the morning!” the cook replied, aghast.


“I know, it’s a bit early for drying up I guess…” The swordsman laughed as Sanji threw a second tea towel at him.


“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” the blonde leaned over the table and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “I got extra sake at the last port. If you’re good, I’ll let you have some after lunch.” Zoro swept across the table top and landed roughly next to the cook, he wrapped him up in his arms and smothered him with kisses.


Sanji spluttered and tried to shove him away. Well, for at least five seconds. Now that was a Herculean effort. Soon the hot body and rough lips pressed against him had their normal effect. He renewed his efforts at self control and somehow managed to get a foot between them before it was too late.


“Tomorrow we’ll be on land. Just try to curb your enthusiasm until then, moss-head.”


Zoro was suddenly standing behind the cook, his hands resting on the blonde’s shoulders. He leaned down and let his lips brush the nape of the cook’s neck,


“I’ll try to contain myself” he growled.


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The deck kept getting closer and then farther, closer then farther…


Luffy hung upside down from the cross bar of the main sail and bounced happily. His arms provided him with a personal bungee cord and he always liked to take advantage. Even his punishment hadn’t deterred him. The Gomu Gomu fruit was certainly the best one to eat of them all.


How boring would it be to be slippery?!


The joys of bouncing were made even better by the way things were all working out. Zoro and Sanji were getting on so well. Even though they were both still grouchy he could tell they were feeling better. They were talking, and looking away, and smiling, and then looking back. It was obviously love. The trip to the island had done them heaps of good. He knew it was a great idea!


It might even have been worth being up to his waist in swamp... Upside down. It had even been that really thick grey mud that smells like old fish paste. Yuck.


They were idiots, though.


If he had someone who felt that way about him he wouldn’t muck around like that. At least it was good now. He hadn’t liked watching them both so sad. The food didn't taste as good and Zoro didn’t smile at his jokes anymore. No fun!


Maybe they would get married or something. He wasn’t really sure how it worked…


But he was sure that whatever happened, as long as he had his nakama with him, everything would be alright.


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As the moon rose, the temperature dropped off degree by degree. First the air lost the balm of a tropical breeze, and then it hovered on cool, before plunging into the chilly depths.


Robin saw Nami standing on the deck. She was taking measurements with her log pose and various star charts she had managed to barter out sheer blind cunning. She was still wearing a crop top and a mini skirt. When she was engrossed in her work, simple things like hunger and cold just weren’t an issue to her.


The archaeologist sighed and passed the red-head’s warmest coat up from their cabin. She walked over to the underdressed girl and held the coat up. Nami looked down from the cosmos and stared at it like it was a trifling inconvenience. When she saw who it was, her gaze softened.


“Thankyou Robin” she put her arm into one sleeve and turned to let Robin guide her into the other sleeve. Robin was just straightening the shoulders when the shorter girl turned around.


She had only meant to keep the girl warm.


It was freezing out on the deck!


But she was suddenly confronted by soft brown eyes and lips so, so close to her own.


They stood there, and hovered, just far enough to keep the illusion. Robin’s hands rested on the navigator’s shoulders, they locked eyes, and each willed themselves to break away first.


It was an accidental kiss.


Unintended. Inconsequential.


Unforgettable.


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