Chapter 8:

This was day 7 of the one week truce. Sanji supposed that in the end, dating Zoro was okay, and had not been that life changing. He just had a little more morons by his side. After the 3 days of absence, things were great, or as great as they can be with their constant bickering. As promised, Zoro did get his head checked out and there was nothing unusual, well, more unusual than normal. Zoro took the rest of the week off from work, probably well-deserved after taking a direct blow to his head. It was nice to see his moronic face popping up every evening before closing. Sanji and Zoro would then walk to his apartment – never in silence of course, their arguments endless and incessant – and Sanji would prepare a small meal for them both. Zoro, as part of his protocol, would consume it with the manners of a retarded ape and belched loudly as his sarcastic thanks in the end. Both of them would thereafter retire on the couch watching lousy dramas and reruns on the TV, commenting on the stupidity of the main characters and how the show sucked. Given that Sanji was the better of the two, with actual sensitive feelings and romantic genes in him, he may have possibly slapped Zoro over the head – injury or not – a few times when he displayed a blatant lack of appreciation for the beautiful actresses on screen. That would then escalate into very childish pinching and slapping on the couch which of course would lead to hot make out sessions and perhaps a few hand-on-cock action, leaving Sanji giddy and high when Zoro returned home for the night.

In all, it was a very perfect week. And Sanji wouldn't mind doing it for many weeks ahead.

This was indeed day 7 and Zoro, perhaps to celebrate the fact that they had both survived and not murdered each other for the entire week, decided to bring him out for the night. Where to, Sanji has no idea at all, but seeing as Zoro said to dress nice – which is a rare, very rare, comment from the barbarian with zilch fashion sense – he supposed it was someplace decent. Sanji hoped so. But then again, Zoro could be fucking with him just to humiliate him for being overdressed.

So Sanji opted for some sort of in-between. He supposed he could not go wrong with his pair of black skin tight jeans and his v-necked shirt with a black blazer. At least it made him feel sexy, and he knows the many nights he had succeeded with luring a lady with these jeans. The v-neck was just a bonus for Zoro, who couldn't stop biting his neck for all its worth. Sanji thought this would give him better access without it being too slutty and obvious.

A few spray of his Marc Jacobs fragrance and he's out of the door. He had agreed to meet Zoro downtown. Another sign that said that perhaps the place they are going to isn't too shabby after all.

Sanji gaped when he saw where they were headed to.

"Well, are you just going to stand there with your mouth open like a stupid fish or are you going to come along?" Zoro asked - the smug bastard - with a smirk on his face.

Sanji cannot believe that they were in front of the SUNNY-GO, the reputed highly-inaccessible, ever-popular club despite its weird-ass name. He knows that getting an entry here is crazy difficult and some of his club-loving customers had to wait three months just to step into the place to sip a glass of vodka. So unless Zoro had clairvoyance and was psychic, there was no way he could have known that they were going to the club in less than a month. After-all, they did meet just a little more than a month ago.

"Are we going to sneak in?" Sanji asked, dumbfounded. He would trust the marimo to devise a date plan that includes breaking and entering expensive high-end clubs.

Zoro shot him a look and grabbed the blond's hand, half dragging him towards the club, "No, dumbass. Sorry to disappoint but we're going to enter from the main entrance. 'Cos you know, that's what normal people do."

"Don't sass me!" Sanji exclaimed, slapping Zoro on the shoulder with his free hand. "How the hell did you manage to get a booking to this place? Tell me you did not threaten a poor customer to give up his place for you." That sounded more probable than Sanji would have liked.

"NO! Is that your appraisal of me?" Zoro huffed, incredulous at what the stupid cook can devise in his head.

"Yes would be my honest answer." Sanji said. "Hey, HEY!" He half-shouted as Zoro marched straight for the entrance, Sanji in tow, ignoring the long ass queue dragging all the way to the end of the street. "There is a queue you know! Are you fucking blind?"

Zoro slapped his hand across his face and groaned, "If you would just shut up for five minutes and walk on your own instead of me dragging you like some perverted kidnapper, maybe we could be inside by now." And then the marimo just slipped past the huge-ass bouncer without so much of a glance AND THE BOUNCER LET HIM.

Just like that, Sanji found himself seated at a luxurious booth overseeing the dance floor in what appears to be a private room.

"Ww-what?" He sputtered. His hands gesturing to everything and nothing around him in an attempt to state his obvious surprise. "You cannot possibly be the Zoro I know. How the hell did you get us this place?"

Zoro smirked for the second time of the day and leaned back against the black leather sofa. "I have friends in high places. Let's just say that you don't."

"What! My friends are absolutely-" Sanji started.

"Whatever, since I managed to drag your skinny ass here, you might as well enjoy it. I thought you would like to be here. You did say you wanted to come here at least once yesterday. Or was I wrong?" Zoro frowned.

Sanji gasped. He did remember blabbering to Zoro excitedly last night after dinner when he recounted one of his customer's stories. He never knew Zoro would such an insignificant comment into account. It was … almost thoughtful.

Sanji smiled and communicated his thanks in the form of a peck on the cheek, much to Zoro's dismay, if the "What? Is that all?" comment could tell.

Sanji rolled his eyes and promptly proceeded to order his drinks. "I can't wait to get on the dance floor." He exclaimed. The blond was almost vibrating in his excitement.

"I don't dance."

It was just like Zoro to dash his fun with a bucketful of icy cold water. Sanji rolled his eyes. "Excuse me, did I say it wrong? I said I can't wait to dance. Not you." Zoro rolled his eyes when Sanji downed his vodka in childish tantrum.

"You sure you want to drink like that? I'm not going to carry your skinny ass home if you pass out."

Sanji felt his body heat up with the alcohol rested within him, "Says the one who is downing his drinks like a parched man in a desert. I swear, if any wine connoisseur sees the way you treat alcohol, all of them would be in tears Zoro, IN TEARS." He threw his arms above his head, as though to make a point, and felt slightly dizzy thereafter. He merely received a flick on the forehead as a reply.

Despite that, Sanji felt like being the better person, because he was feeling really good right now, and decided to forgive Zoro. He giggled and pressed his cheek to the marimo's broad shoulder, almost moaning when he felt a warm hand on his thigh.

But because Sanji remembered his promise to himself, he jerked up all of a sudden, and proceeded to walk to down to the dance floor. Zoro chuckled lightly to himself, looking as the stupid chef proceeded to make a fool of himself with some ladies in the corner. There was no jealousy surprisingly. He knows the difference between Sanji's real flirting and Sanji's moronic behaviour. This was moronic at its best right now, and who was Zoro to go and correcty the stupid cook's moronic antics? He rather watch the show from his seat.

Surprisingly Sanji managed to lure the entire group of ladies to the dance floor with him and proceeded to noodle himself into a mess. Zoro couldn't help but laughed out loud at his mess of a date. He was just happy Sanji was happy. The girls were harmless enough too.

Okay, girls were harmless.

But this dude that just shoved his way past them to grind up his, HIS, Sanji certainly was not. Zoro felt his eyes bore into this man and almost crush his bottle when those hands grabbed the blond at the hips. Where the fuck does that bastard thinks he's touching?

Zoro stood from his seat, ready to claim back what's his when he saw Sanji … looking … at him? The stupid cook was staring at him in ways that made his cock stiffen in attention while slowly swaying in the arms of the other stranger.

What. The. Fuck?

Zoro felt his breath hitch in his throat as the blond proceeded to stare back at him through half-lidded eyes and those longs sinuous hands reached out behind him to clasp at the neck of the stranger. Those hands then slipped down the arms of the man seductively and to his hands that is located dangerous low on his hips, then lower … resting just above his crotch. Zoro had to stifle his moan when the blond palmed his cock through those sinfully tight jeans of his, leaving nothing to the imagination at what was underneath that piece of cloth.

And all the while Sanji was just looking at him.

Motherfucker, that blond was messing with him.

Zoro knew a challenge when he sees one and slowly, with every amount of restraint that he has, sit himself back down the leather sofa, appearing as nonchalant as he can with a raging hard on.

The minx just smirked and proceeded to gyrate his hips like a goddamn stripper, putting on a good show. He knew that look of dispassion on Zoro was far from what it seemed. Those dark eyes bore through Sanji and he felt himself shudder from the attention. He licked his lips when Zoro downed another bottle, all the while looking at him, because, fuck, wasn't that the sexiest thing ever.

He turned around to face the poor stranger, who had no idea what was going on, and decided that it was time to up the game.

Sending Zoro a look and a smirk, Sanji jerked his hips forward and grind against the thigh of the man, who let out a groan in return. He barely noticed it though, his attention was totally fixated on the other man behind the glass, whose facial expression was borderline murderous and aroused. Sanji continued giving the marimo a show, grinding against the thigh of a stranger, all the while imagining how great it would be if Zoro was the one dancing with him right now.

The stranger grew bolder and more confident, hitching Sanji's leg onto his hips all of a sudden and pressing against him, groin against groin, cock against cock. Sanji yelped against his will as the man started humping against him. In a moment of dizzy pleasure, Sanji felt himself moan and his head fall back, missing the crash of the bottle against table and the green-haired man who murderously leaped over the sofa towards the dance floor. "Ah!" He cried out again, alcohol swimming in his head and for a moment he thought it was Zoro he was dancing with. It can't be helped when it felt that good.

Zoro had decided that he had seen enough. The game was over. That bastard had crossed the line by laying those filthy hands on Sanji's ass and humping against what was his.

And YES, fuck the one week truce, Sanji was fucking HIS. Zoro was sure as hell not afraid to show it.

A/N: And Yes, because I'm a perv... I loved the idea of Sanji teasing Zoro with a random stranger. All in the name of fun ;)

BTW, I've started another fic called "Fluff and Fetishes". It will be a series of short drabbles to fulfill my never ending desire for more Zosan porn and fluff. Do support and contribute to the Zosan community by giving in to your desires and post your prompts. LOL