Update 01/2018: This fanfiction will not be updated anymore. No more posts, and some time in the near future I /might/ delete it. BUT I used the plot idea for a new fanfiction roughly based on the same scenario. I've realised that this fanfiction is getting nowhere and doesn't fit into my way of writing anymore. I am really, really sorry for this inconvenience and I hope some of you might try the "new" Cyclone which is called "Zyklon". (Still includes ZoSan in later chapters but the plot development is very different. You can find it on my profile.)

Thanks for all the reviews, the likes, the follows on this fanfiction!

The sound of glasses hitting together rang painfully in his ears, setting free another headache. His head was still throbbing, the pain was perfectly avoiding the medication he had been given. Everything seemed shriller in its sound now with the headache spreading from the damaged side of his head to the other and pushing every button on its way to set off his annoyance. That, even though he felt somewhat grateful, was in his opinion perfectly justified, considering the insensitive treatment the algae-headed swordsman was offering him.

It was past midnight already; the traffic at this particular hour and the ignorant, unoriented green-haired idiot had been unimaginably difficult and thick, as latter kept on talking over Sanji's fruitless attempts at guiding them through the neighborhood without getting lost. So they had ended up in the suburbs at some point - at the other side of town, but not even that had forced the marimo head to listen.

It was late and all Sanji wanted was to lie down in his bed and wait for the medication to kick in, sleep to roll over him and the world to disappear around him at least till dawn. Though the pain was less troublesome as back in the restaurant and the feeling of dizziness had faded, all thanks to Chopper's treatment, he still felt too drained to deal with the first mate's outburst. And even if he wouldn't, he definitely had no intentions of listening to the lecturing all night.

"...really don't get you!" Zoro's voice was drifting in and out of his world, he only kept on focusing on a few snippets in case something really important would be said. "You had to deal with that shit before, what the hell is wrong with you!?"

When Zoro sat down across from him, a glass of whiskey in his hands that he noisily put down on the kitchen table, Sanji finally snapped. "That's not your business, shithead, okay? What I do and what I choose not to do is up to me and I don't have to update you about my life! Now could you please be a little more considerate and stop making so much noise?"

"I was only talking!" Zoro stared at his nakama wide-eyed, at the verge of feeling offended.

"That's enough for another headache, thank you very much!" Sanji shot back, his annoyance clearly surfacing in his voice. He knew the stupid idiot was only trying to figure him out, most likely to help him but he didn't want to share his inner turmoil with the dense swordsman.

After lingering his gaze for another second, Zoro shook his head and focused on his drink. Maybe there was something in the meds Chopper had given him that messed with the cook's brain, he wouldn't be surprised if the sultry chef got easily affected by the side effects of heavy medication. On the other hand, their insults had always been that harsh and he really shouldn't be surprised. Really.

Silence filled in the gap between them but Sanji's head didn't feel better. He felt a hint of guilt gnawing at his heart for his mean words towards Zoro but he figured the idiot didn't care that much anyway. Sighing he rested his head on his arms lying on the table, groaning when the change of position shot another wave of pain through his head. Whatever healthy, natural shit Chopper had given him, it was damn slow in helping compared to the painkillers stored upstairs in his nightstand. At least he didn't feel like vomiting anymore, which by the way had turned the drive to Chopper's into living hell. The marimo would've ripped his head off right there if he had emptied his stomach's treasure into his expensive car.

"Oi, idiot, go to bed already." His voice sounded soft in Sanji's throbbing ear, he was barely able to suppress the smile forming on his lips. Sometimes, just sometimes, he felt better hearing Zoro's voice, sometimes he found himself craving to know that he was there, even if they would only end up shouting insults at each other.

Considering the idea, he closed his eyes and allowed his body to give into the exhaustion but only found himself reminded of his throbbing headache even more. It would be too bothersome to work through the pain that only felt worse if he blanked out everything else. His focus would always settle back on it, and it was frustrating.

Groaning again he nuzzled his face into his elbow, trying somehow to concentrate on something distracting enough that he wouldn't mind the pain. Remembering Robin in her short pajama pants as she led them into the house did work its magic very well, the way the thin fabric would move up as she walked revealing more of her skin and hinting what it was hiding, made him forget about everything for a moment.

Until a hand gently ruffling his hair pulled him back to reality in an instant, erasing the image of the dark-haired woman from his mind. Barely looking over his arm, he rose his head enough to glance at Zoro smiling down at him, his hand now back on his drink. What had that been about? A gesture of affection? Silent support? Without taking his eyes of him, he sat back up and fixed his hair as much as he could with the bandage protecting the wound. "Fetch me the cigarettes."

Rolling his eyes, Zoro turned around in his seat to reach for the pack on the shelf above the heater. The smile nestling in the corners of his mouth, he threw the little box on the table and leaned back in his seat, his eyes watching the other man fixing himself a smoke. "So, is that how you want to rebel against your co-workers' mistreatment? Smoking in the middle of the night at home where no one would see you anyway, even though you're not allowed?"

"Oh shut up! I don't want to do shit!" Sanji snapped, tossing the lighter onto the table. Smoking was just the only way he knew to distract himself from pain, and he couldn't bring himself to give a damn about the 'no smoking'-rule of his boss. He could smoke all he wanted outside of the restaurant, that was nobody's but his own business.

"No. You should do shit, cook. Don't give those bastards any satisfaction in humiliating you. Damnit, I know you better than that! The love-cook I know would've kicked their asses so hard they wouldn't be able to sit for a week. He would now be the king of the kitchen pushing those assholes around and not being their punching bag." Zoro didn't miss the chuckle and the little blush on the other man's face that had flashed up during his speech. It meant the cook was listening and that there was a tiny chance he would be getting more out of him. "What happened to that sultry, dominant cook?"

Spirits dropping even more, Sanji hung his head low and took a long drag of his cigarette. It felt so relaxing and soothing how the smoke was filling his trachea and lungs, the nicotine playing with his mind like they hadn't been together for ages. And it helped with the headache and with the inevitable question he had been avoiding so well. "I don't know... I've been wondering about that too, I just...," he started, sighed and sucked on the cigarette again before continuing, "It's not like I've never considered kicking back. Sure as hell I have so many times... but each time I hold myself back... It's unintentional though... I don't know... I don't want to start a ruckus, I guess. Don't want to pull any attention on me or rather us... You know it's not me to think twice about hitting someone."

"Hell no, you never think at all when you hit someone," Zoro frowned, intending to make a joke but the failure of it was clearly written on Sanji's face.

"I don't feel like myself anymore most of the time. Especially not when I'm alone at work," Sanji continued, pausing for another drag on the cigarette, "It's fine when you and Luffy are around, like when things are as they were... I know that's stupid. We've been to so many different places before and it never bothered me but-"

"Then we were still around, all of us." Zoro smiled at him in understandment, now having a good impression of what was going on inside the cook.

"Yes," Sanji nodded, eyes fixed on a stain on the wall, "I've never thought I was leaning onto you all so much. I've always thought I could easily stand on my own feet but I guess I... I need all of you around me more than I've ever thought. At least I would feel better to know where the rest of you is."

They looked at each other for a moment, just gazing into another's eyes, sometimes examining their features. Halting at the swordsman's lips, Sanji found it curved up in a chuckle and couldn't hold back the one forming on his own; the moment was embarrassing. "I sound like such a wimp."

"Yeah, you do," Zoro grinned and was just able to dodge the slap to his head. "But I can relate actually... It feels like being ripped off of a part of your soul. It happened too fast to be prepared."

Sanji nodded in agreement, "It feels like I've been sucked off my... energy. You know, like I don't see why I should put effort into things. And kicking back seems stupid and wasted energy. Feels better to just endure it instead of fighting back."

"And that freaks me out. As much as I enjoy that you're a little less annoying, it freaks me out that you're not you. And that damn job's only making it worse," Zoro frowned, swaying the glass in his hand before taking the final gulp.

"Big words coming from someone who became smart overnight," Sanji scoffed. The job at the government had changed the dumb marimo as well, probably even more than himself. And it scared him as much.

Zoro huffed, shaking his head with a smirk. "That's because you never noticed it before. You've always been too invested lusting after ladies to see my qualities."

"Your qualities?" Sanji chuckled and tipped off ash over the little bowl on the table. "What would those be? Sleeping and drinking?"

"Tch, there isn't much you can do on a ship unless you have a certain role. Which I don't," Zoro countered back with a smirk, "And just because I've spent so much time sleeping, doesn't mean I don't have any other qualities. Shouldn't you know them by now?"

Considering the question for a moment, Sanji rested his chin in his hand and fixed his gaze on a spot on the table. Surely he had noticed new sides about the swordsman, a lot of new characteristics that he would've never even dreamed of. Even though they had somehow become a routine to him, it was still hard to accept them as reality. It was even harder to let go of the image of a sleeping marimo head lying in his way.

Silence filled the room again, both lost in their own train of thoughts and somehow dreading to part from each other. It was comfortable, sitting so peacefully at the table following their own thoughts, without the pressure of having to converse. Time passed on as they were sitting in the dimly lit kitchen, enjoying each other's company. They'd refill their glass, light up another cigarette, just to have an obvious reason to stay a while longer. It would be embarrassing to admit how they needed the other's presence in some way.

After a few moments of silence, Zoro finally got up to fix himself another drink just as the cook lit up his third cigarette. Back to their old habits, he felt better than he had ever since the thing with Nami. At least there was something they wouldn't ever get rid of, screw the fact that it was something they should finally quit but it defined them in a fucked up kind of way. Watching Sanji smoke made him feel so much calmer, so much more relaxed, as if some kind of weight had been lifted off his chest.

Sitting back down, he broke the silence. "Oh, I visited Oakley by the way."

"So?" The sudden change of topic was confusing to Sanji.

"You remember how I asked him to help to look for the others? Well, he got some news."

Sanji's eyes widened, "No way. Who did he find?"

"He didn't find anyone, unfortunately, but he found out that Usopp is alive. He just doesn't know where he could be now, most likely in this town but who knows," Zoro told, a smile lingering in the corners of his lips.

"And you ass didn't tell me earlier! We were at Chopper's and you shithead didn't say a single thing!" Sanji shouted, slamming his fist onto the table.

"Oh pardon me, I thought treating the hole in your head was first priority," Zoro shot back, "Can't you be happy about the news like a normal person would do? Geez, I guess your brain got damaged as well."

"Shut up," Sanji muttered and turned his head away, curtaining his blushing cheeks with his hair. Of course, now that he was letting the news sink in, he was happy, and most of all, relieved to finally know about their friend's well-being. But still, he could have wished for Zoro to tell them straight away, and not let it drop randomly.

The green-haired swordsman sighed with a chuckle on his lips; he simply loved it to win an argument. "He was in a coma for while in a different hospital and got released about a year and a half ago but that's all I know. I guess we just have to keep our eyes open. Or lure him to us like Chopper and Robin had planned."

It was Saturday afternoon and Sanji was lying on Zoro's bed, flipping through a home decor magazine. In a few hours he would be home alone, so he had decided to stay close to his housemate till then, pretending to only be there to give advice on styling.

They had been spending all morning lazing about in the living-room until Zoro had decided to get dressed for the party. Though in Sanji's definition party wasn't the right word for the kind of event his friend was invited to. In the last two years they had been to several of these parties, their purposes changing but their level of fun never reached high enough to be worth mentioned. Hence, he was happy to be able to stay at home though he dreaded the idea of being alone. He'd manage, maybe he'd go to sleep early today or watch a movie or two. After all, there was a lot to do in this big house, stuffed with useless things to keep one distracted from important things and if one was lucky, even from loneliness.

And still, Sanji always ended up spending his spare time with boredom whenever Zoro was out for work or even when he was in his office. In latter case he would annoy the other man just to get some reaction and maybe start a hunt through the house, or, even though that happened rarely, a sparring session.

That was why right now, he was sprawled on his housemate's bed for instant mean comments on Zoro's bad taste in formal wear. Those were obligatory and a necessity, how else would that moron find the right clothes to wear? And of course, it was just a side effect that Sanji could spend some more time in company. Really, there was no other benefit in watching the grassy-haired idiot getting dressed…

"Not sure how to feel that you're staring at me rather than your beloved magazine," Zoro smirked at him, catching him right at act.

Though denying was useless, Sanji blushed and turned back to the picture of a kitchen, retorting, "I wasn't staring, I was just mesmerised by your unattractiveness." But from the corner of his eye, he could still see the other man in nothing but his boxers and a ridiculously thin undershirt. Anyone would stare at this perfect view, right?

"Well, if that's the case, why don't you help me find something to wear instead of being useless in my room," Zoro countered, already turned back towards his closet.

With a sigh, Sanji flipped the magazine shut and off the bed and rolled over and onto his back to have a better look into the wide-opened closet. There were about five suits aligned, three in a decent black, one in a dark blue and another in a charcoal tone. He knew them all by heart since he had picked them out for the marimo, knowing well what would suit him best. It was funny how many suits that idiot owned by now, not that he knew how to value them but that was what he was there for, right? "The second from the rig-... the blue one," he corrected himself and even pointed at it to emphasize his words in case the idiot couldn't tell blue from gray.

"Really?" Replying with a shrug, Zoro took it off the hanger and examined it with a frown.

"Yes, it's perfect. Decent but not too casual. Don't question my judgement, moron," Sanji snorted. And besides, he loved that suit. It was in a pure dark blue tone, comfortably fitting the body and perfected with golden buttons at the sleeves that had little anchors carved in. He had tried it on himself but it looked awful on him for whatever reason, maybe because he preferred to see it on Zoro's body. Which, by the way, seemed to be made for these kinds of suits. Or low-riding pajama pants… what the hell was wrong with his brain?!

"Forgive me, your highness, I've never meant to criticize your sense in fashion."

"Funny, I've heard you do so countless times in the last years," Sanji said casually and rolled back onto his stomach and towards the edge of the bed to reach for the treasured magazine.

Zoro grinned at him, "Do you even understand the concept of sarcasm?" He moved over to his dresser to look for a matching shirt, a pale blue one would do, he figured.

"Better than you," the blond man replied nonchalantly and settled back onto his back, magazine held opened above his face. There was never anything interesting in them, not interesting enough to inspire him but just looking at those pictures and imagining a life in those rooms killed boredom very fast. Also, it was strangely satisfying.

"Get out of your bubble and get ready, you always take longer than me," Zoro chuckled, hovering over one of his drawers in need of socks.

Sanji arched his back to be able to look at his housemate, "What?"

"Get ready, as in getting dressed for the party, moron," the other man replied without making eye contact.

"I do know what it means, asshole, I wanted to know why!" What reason was there for him to get ready as well when only Zoro had been invited and would go alone? Was there some information he had missed?

With a smirk, Zoro walked over to the other man, leaned over him and propped himself up on the mattress with a hand on each side of Sanji. The smirk was spreading all over his features as the confused eyes of the blond cook look at him, awaiting an answer. "Cause I'm not taking you with me in that rag of a shirt," the swordsman snorted and pulled said shirt up to cover Sanji's face that changed to surprise.

Now with the shirt up, he faced the perfectly built and muscled belly of the man under him. Not that he wasn't used to it, just the distance was different from usual. And the abrupt silence from the blond who had been cursing and trying to get the shirt off of his face, actually the stillness of the moment was what made this different from usual. The sight Zoro was greeted with was nothing of ordinary either, and so he couldn't quite decide how to feel. Or rather, why he couldn't take his eyes off of it.

Lying under the stare of his friend in just some boxer briefs, the shirt pulled up and revealing too much skin, Sanji was torn between enjoyment and freaking out. And freaking out over the fact that he kind of liked it, the position and the eyes on him and all, and even in the depths of himself wished for a touch.

But instead the deep voice of Zoro reached his ears. "I still don't get why you're wearing that shirt. You used to make fun of it back then, I'm surprised you haven't burned it already." He tilted his head to grin at the other man.

"I think that it's my duty to remind you of the bad taste you had back then," Sanji smirked triumphantly. "I'm sorry to inform you that getting rid of it yet is still an impossibility." And it would never be, for he loved this old, worn down, off-white shirt way too much, although he couldn't understand why. It was the marimo's stupid old shirt, what value could it have?

"I'm actually glad about that," Zoro smirked back and with his words, wiped the triumphant grin off the blond's face. He pulled the shirt down again, moved off the bed and turned towards his own clothes for the evening. "Get the fuck ready, I'm not arriving too late because you're a pansy prick."

Sanji jolted upright and out of the daze Zoro's words had left him in, now they had pulled his attention into the opposite direction. "That's not my fault! You could've told me that you wanted me to come too!" he shouted and got off the bed. His head started to hurt again, both from the annoyance and the sudden movements; he really should be more careful. "Not that I'm going anywhere with that thing on my head!"

Immediately Zoro's gaze fell on the bandage wrapped around Sanji's head. Though a few days had passed, it still looked awful, Chopper had to cut some of the precious blond strands for proper treatment, mostly to prevent them from causing an infection. Understandingly, although Zoro would never admit that out loud, Sanji had been pretty pissed about it and refused to leave the house until at least the bandage was off and he could properly rearrange his hair. He, personally, didn't mind but that didn't shush the people talking behind their backs, and they would, he knew the kind that visited those parties too well.

"You could try a bandana. Or better a scarf. Make sure to wrap it around your face too, so I don't have to look at it all evening," Zoro suggested without the slightest hint of expression on his face and pulled on his dress pants.

For a moment, Sanji stared at Zoro in disbelief, he couldn't be serious, could he!? "You think you're oh so funny, huh! Actually I might go into my room and laugh all evening!" With that said, he stormed out of his friend's room, slamming the door shut behind him and rushed over to his own bedroom. Normally, he would jump onto the joke train but the wound was, well, a sensitive spot in every way. He was sensitive about it and that fucking moron knew it! How dare he make fun of it, hadn't they set limits? Fuck! If he had to see the dull-headed asshole again before tomorrow, he would so kick that empty skull in!

He was already getting caught in a loop of rage when the door opened and the dumbest of all creatures Sanji had ever come to know entered his room, probably unaware of its fatal mistake. In a split second he had turned around, leg risen up in the air and expertly landing his foot on the other man's chest, ready to kick him out of the room without warning. A line had been crossed so the consequences had to be taken and Sanji would gladly help the shitty marimo work through them. He had always been this short-tempered and no matter what the shithead could do, it wouldn't change his mind. At least he thought so.

A hand wrapped around his ankle, moving up to the top of his bare foot, gently brushing over his skin until it halted and just rested on his foot. Surprised and a little terrified, Sanji looked up into Zoro's face, searching for any sign that the fight was still on but this gesture wasn't a declaration of war, it was an apology.

"Don't get worked up, I'm here-... I'm sorry," Zoro offered, a pale blush dusting his features. The hand around Sanji's foot tightened a little while with the other, he scratched the back of his head. "I didn't really get across what I wanted to say, you know how awkward I am with this sorta thing."

Yes, Sanji did. The marimo sometimes had trouble expressing himself properly which in some cases ended up in a terrible misunderstanding. It rarely happened between the two of them, despite everything that stood between them, Sanji understood Zoro's use of some words (in the wrong context) better than anyone else. And also, as in this case, the wrong use of a joke.

"I guess that joke wasn't funny and I'm really sorry. That was inappropriate." Zoro looked straight into his eyes, trying to get through to the softer side of himself for acceptance of his apology.

Sanji stared back for a moment before shoving the other man towards the door and wordlessly turning around towards his bed. "'s fine. Still not going." No, he wouldn't be everyone's center of attention. Although… he could have all the ladies worry about him. Well, that changed everything. Maybe he could finally get the secretary from Zoro's floor to go out with him?

When an arm sneaked around his middle, all of those thoughts suddenly evaporated. His mind went blank and his body became paralyzed, the increasing of his heartbeat the only thing he felt. The power of the touch left him breathless, the words stuck in his throat, their meaning vanished. Silently the moment passed on, and slowly, Sanji felt himself relaxing into the embrace.

Instantly he was pulled closer against the taller man's body, now his back leaned against Zoro's chest. It felt strange, unfamiliar, but not awkward. The anger that had only a moment ago been boiling inside of him was completely gone, leaving room to a much softer and calming emotion. He didn't know what, and to be honest, he didn't want to know what feelings the marimo could awake in him.

Zoro let his breath ghost over Sanji's ear, under his controlled surface he was a little bit nervous. With the blond's temper, this intimate moment could be over any second and for some reason, Zoro didn't want it to. Being so close to the cook felt nice, a perfect change to the usual distance between them. And to prevent that, he held the other man firmly in his grip as he tilted his head and placed a kiss on the bandage protecting Sanji's head wound. Maybe actions worked better than words?

After a few seconds without no reaction from the blond, Zoro took advantage of the lack of action and pushed his hand under Sanji's (or rather his old) shirt to let his fingers caress the firm and smooth skin of the other man's belly. Sanji flinched under the touch but remained in the embrace, though the moment was at the verge of awkwardness, so Zoro decided to finally talk.

"You know, I'd feel better to have you with me tonight. And I know how you hate to be all alone." He wrapped his arms completely around the cook and dared to rest his forehead against the back of the other man's head.

"That's very considerate… I'm surprised," Sanji chuckled, resting his hands on top of Zoro's. It was new and different to be this close to each other but the longer he was being held like this, the more he wanted to stay in this position. "Since you're begging me so nicely, how can I say no? Despite that, I could attract some ladies with the bandage."

"So? For pity? I don't see why else they should be attracted by it," Zoro smirked challengingly, with the response from Sanji to his actions, he felt more confident to press forward.

"Tch," Sanji pouted and kicked Zoro's shin - not hard but enough to make it sting. "With that shitface of yours I will not even attract cockroaches."

Still smirking, Zoro leaned closer to the blond's ear and whispered, "Good, then I can have you all to myself."

Sanji's eyes widened in shock. "You creep! You can have a punch in the face, you weird marimo!" He broke the embrace by unlocking their arms and turning around so he could shove the idiot out of his room. "Now get the fuck ready or we'll be late!"

With that said, the door fell shut in front a broadly grinning Zoro. Maybe the evening would be better than expected.