A/N: I"M SO EXCITED TO POST THIS FOR YOU GUYS! Sorry for the longer wait than usual, I needed time to figure out some plot points and work out the more gritty details of this fic! Updates shouldn't take so long in the future, but they won't be as fast as they were in the beginning either. I'll try to post something once a week, whether it's this fic or other fics ahaha...

I have many other fics in progress which I'll be uploading bit by bit, I'd love it if you could check them out! Obviously City Lights is ongoing and will have the most of my attention, but I need to get some of this other stuff off my chest too!

If there are characters you want to see, or ideas/prompts/request, leave them in the comments or message me on tumblr pandamega and I'll see if I can include them!

As always, the comments/reviews keep me going! Thank you all so much for the support so far, I'm excited for where this fic is going!

Thank you to my beta readers Cotzo and Karla!

To say the atmosphere in the apartment was tense would be the understatement of the century. Zoro felt like he was walking on eggshells around the chef, as if anything he did or said might set him off. He felt bad, really bad, which was an altogether foreign emotion to Zoro. The swordsman was the kind of guy who lived with no regrets and accepted the consequences of his actions. At least, that's what his whole worldview had been built around. Never had the consequences of his actions caused someone close to him to suffer like this. He'd never had anyone close enough to hurt. Now he'd made the mistake of catching feelings for the chef, of sharing moments that had brought them together in a way that the things Zoro did actually mattered. The way Zoro fucked up actually mattered. He decided that getting close to Sanji had been foolish but he couldn't bring himself to regret it, to regret Sanji. He just regretted fucking up. And the new feeling of regret was throwing Zoro off big time. He was at a complete loss for what to do or how to behave around Sanji. They didn't talk. They didn't argue. They barely even made eye contact.

Nonetheless, Sanji continued feeding his roommate and their nightly routine of dining together continued in a thick uncomfortable shroud of silence. Now, Zoro could handle tension, he could handle silence, he was a quiet man to begin with. He prided himself on being a low-maintenance, drama-free guy. But for some reason the awkward silence between him and Sanji was driving him mad. He couldn't stand it, not when it was Sanji, not when it was the man he couldn't stop himself from thinking of every waking hour. The tense silence in the apartment whenever the two were together wouldn't have phased him were it with anyone else, but Sanji had an effect on Zoro, destabilized him, made him feel self-doubt.

Zoro was never a conversationalist to begin with, and he was beginning to regret his primitive affluence with words, as every bumbling attempt at small talk he attempted was shot down immediately and eloquently by the chef.

"Long day?" he might ask.

"Always," would be the one-word reply.

"How was work?"

"Long."

"Still raining huh?"

"How observant."

Sanji's replies were rarely more than one word, not that Zoro's questions were much longer, but hell, at least he was trying.

Sanji, on the other hand, was still quite clearly mad. But he was also confused and very frustrated, more frustrated with himself and the situation he found himself in than with his roommate, but he still took his frustration out on Zoro because the man wasn't exactly an innocent bystander either.

Perhaps the worst part, for Zoro, was that Sanji only made salads for the next week. Salads. Every day. Zoro interpreted this as some kind of punishment, but he couldn't find it in him to complain, because at the end of the day Sanji was still feeding him. He wasn't a picky eater by any means, but cold salad for dinner every day was just dismal.

The reality was that Sanji preferred salad when he was stressed. The anxiety made it hard for him to stomach heavy foods, and he needed the fresh fruit and vegetables to clear his body and mind, keep him sharp and keep his mood from becoming too volatile. Fresh food kept the mind fresh, and Sanji needed something to stop him from feeling like his insides were decaying. To Zoro, however, this was vegetable purgatory. When Zoro was in a high-stress environment his answer was always protein. More protein. The salads were depleting him, physically and psychologically.

Day 6 of purgatory:

Sanji couldn't bring himself to look at Zoro, much less talk with him. He had rushed out of the apartment before the man even awoke. Every time he saw the man he saw Ichiji leaning into him, hands all over him, and it was disgusting. It made him feel anger and envy and betrayal and despair. Sanji couldn't come to terms with the fact that Zoro could elicit such emotions from him. He had no right. Sanji was feeling emotions he wasn't supposed to feel. The anger was fine, hell, the anger was great compared to the other feelings. But the envy? He was envious of his brother. It brought back age old feelings he'd long since buried, the constant feeling of inadequacy, of never being good enough to deserve his father's attention or praise. The envy he felt of being weaker and meeker and humbler than his brothers and getting hell for it. He'd put those feelings in his past, become a new man, only for his brother to come back and prove himself once again to be better. Sanji wanted Zoro. He hated to admit it but he had wanted him since that first night on the rooftop when they'd opened up to each other. So of course, the first thing his brother did when he came to town was take that, take Zoro, because Sanji had once again been too inadequate to claim Zoro for himself. He also felt betrayed by Zoro, even though he knew the man wasn't culpable. Zoro had no idea what he was getting himself into when he dated Ichiji, but it still felt like betrayal. It awoke all those feelings of past treasons committed against him that had scarred him so deeply. It was all so terribly confusing. Sanji was a mess of emotions and all he could do was eat salads and build his walls up higher. Push everyone away and refuse to talk to the one man he longed to work things out with. He hated himself for his stubborn personality. He hated himself for wanting Zoro.

Sanji couldn't focus on his work. Even outside of the apartment his thoughts were on Zoro. In the restaurant kitchens the parsley he chopped reminded him too much of that annoying mossy hair. In front of the stove he was just reminded of every night he'd spent making the man dinner. The restaurant was chaos and Sanji couldn't clear his head or his heart because there was a deep longing that had him all wound up. There was a depth to Zoro that Sanji felt he could connect to on a level he hadn't felt in a long time. Zoro wasn't superficial, he was grounded and sincere, and sure as stone, while Sanji was a tumultuous sea. But like Sanji, the swordsman had his barriers up high, he was closed off. Sanji longed to chip down that wall, and he longed to have his own walls come crashing down, to open up to someone.

However this whole fiasco with his brother just showed that getting close to anyone only resulted in him getting hurt. If he hadn't opened up, allowed himself to get close, he wouldn't have felt so bad when he caught his brother with Zoro. It wouldn't have hurt so much. He would be in better shape to address the more paramount issue of his family being in town. Instead, all he can think of is Zoro. All he can think of is the warm voice on the rooftop, voicing aloud feelings he never thought anyone else could understand. Zoro understood it all, the loss, the hopelessness, the determination. And when Sanji had opened up about his past, about being disowned and living on the streets, Zoro hadn't offered cringy "sorry's" or any words of sympathy. No, he had said "I'm happy for you." Zoro didn't look at him like a charity case, he saw him for the man he'd become, Sanji Black, head chef, a man who'd overcome his past and made a new life for himself. Sanji was eternally grateful because there wasn't a shred of pity in Zoro's eyes. There was understanding, and it had stirred Sanji so deeply. That response had touched him in his bones, empowered his soul. That might have been the moment he fell. The moment that had done him in. But now that conversation felt so far away. The stones that Zoro had cast down from Sanji's walls were built back up twofold as the past came bearing down on him. He was pushing Zoro away when he really wanted him close. He needed someone to talk to, someone to help him figure out what was going on, someone to comfort him without pitying him.

"Sanji, are you listening?" Nami's voice broke through his wandering thoughts.

They were in his office behind the kitchens. Nami had come to the restaurant as she usually did on Tuesday afternoons for a financial briefing, a little later than usual, as dinner prep was finished and the first reservations had already arrived.

"Huh? Oh, sorry dear." Sanji had been going through the motions all day, mind caught up in his own problems, and it had not gone unnoticed.

Nami frowned, "What's going on? I've never seen you this distracted." She neglected to mention that Sanji had completely forgone his usual fawning over her arrival and had been oddly silent on their short walk to the office. Normally the chef would greet her enthusiastically, offer her food and drink, take her hand and plant a kiss on her knuckles, and ask her a dozen questions about her day between compliments on her appearance.

Sanji waved his hands disarmingly, not wanting Nami to worry or get caught up in his own troubles. "Oh I just didn't get much sleep is all! You mentioned the food pantries right? How is the new one in the Bronx? People are using it?"

"Of course they're being used," Nami laughed, picking up on Sanji's interest in taking the conversation off of his personal affairs. "The issue is keeping it stocked well enough. We don't get enough donations, and I can only fund them so much without things getting fishy in the books, you understand right?"

"Of course. You've allocated profits from here too right? Is it enough to build the new pantry in Queens?"

"The profits from the restaurant aren't the issue. It's just the money from our... other endeavors. It takes me a long time to get the books balanced so we can't access all the funds immediately. But I've given Franky the go-ahead to start building! I'm excited to put some of that money those crooks drained from the community back to good use."

"I still can't believe the chief of police himself was involved that deep with the local gangs." Sanji mused, recalling their latest unofficial "job."

"Well, blackmailing him proved to be quite profitable, and he's an easy one to manipulate. We'll put him and his money to good use in the community."

Sanji was thoughtful a moment. He agreed with Nami, and he knew the crew was working towards cleaning up the city, but he couldn't help himself from having doubts every now and then. "You sure this is the right way to go about it? I mean, the police chief, he's corrupted yet we're not throwing him out altogether."

Nami scoffed, "Throw him out and let someone else take his place to get bought out just the same?" She shook her head, "You know how this goes Sanji. He's the police chief, if someone that high up is dirty, who knows who else is. And besides, at this point there isn't a single official in the city who isn't even a little corrupted. I mean hell, even Smoker isn't squeaky clean."

Sanji chuckled at the mention of the eccentric police captain, "Well at least he has the wellbeing of the people at heart."

"And so do we," Nami asserted. "So as long as we're the one's pulling the strings behind the scenes rather than the drug-running gangs, things will get better."

Running his hands through his hair and down his face Sanji nodded, muttering, "Everything is just so complicated."

Frowning, Nami tilted her head to regard her friend's expression, "Don't worry about the details Sanji, just do what you do best, feed people. We're going to have your food pantries on every corner of the city soon enough." She offered him a bright smile which he returned in kind.

"I can't wait. How many grocery stores do we have on board?"

"Four local stores and two major chains have agreed to send us their nearly-expired and rejected produce and baked goods, I've also negotiated with a number of farms upstate and in Vermont and Maine who are willing to sell or donate rejected products that don't meet quality standards." Nami had pulled out her tablet and was flicking through the information. "I can't believe they would just throw away fruits and veggies for being too small or lumpy."

"That's the problem with the commercial farming industry, the ugly fruit gets thrown away even when it's still good to eat." Sanji was scowling, the topic of food waste was one he was particularly passionate about.

Nami reached out and touched the chef's cheek, squaring him a serious look in the eyes, "You're making a difference, Sanji."

The chef flushed, brushing off the sincere sentiment, "Oh Nami, you are an angel!"

"Stop it," Nami laughed. The humble chef always did this. He was unable to accept compliments or acknowledge his own success, choosing to turn the compliments onto someone else instead. She decided to change the subject back to her earlier inquiry on his personal troubles. "Tell me what's going on with you."

Shaking his head, Sanji insisted, "Oh it's nothing, I mean it."

"At least tell me how things are with Zoro? I pried some information out of Robin, I hope you don't mind. Is it really that bad, with Zoro?" She worried at her lip, "If it would help, I could move some stuff around, find another apartment so at least you wouldn't have to live together?"

"Oh Nami," Sanji was quiet for a moment, pondering her offer. "it's not…" it's not that bad, is it? "I don't know if that would make me feel better or worse."

"Talk to me, Sanji." Despite all her quirks, Nami was a great friend and a great listener, even if she often listened with the intention of gaining information that would further her own personal interests.

"It's really… It's foolish," he laughed despondently. "I... miss him."

Nami tilted her head indicating that she didn't understand, encouraging him to go on.

"We live in the same apartment, we even eat together but we just… Some things happened, I don't know how much Robin told you but I had some… family issues that Zoro got caught up in and now we're not talking." He sighed heavily, rubbing at his face. "It's weird but, I miss the constant fighting," he laughed cynically. Sanji missed the bickering in the morning and their conversations at night, those tender moments of understanding on the rooftop when the world felt small below them and their problems felt as far away as the stars and the city lights.

"I guess I'm still mad at him, but I'm more just stressed about this thing with my family and I just… I want to come home to a friend." Sanji was at a loss. His own words silenced him. Since when had Zoro become anything close to a friend? Somewhere along the line the bond between them had grown and Sanji had developed a kind of dependence on the moss head. After a long day at work he always looked forward to coming home to Zoro and arguing with him while he cooked dinner. The tension would ease out of him. And during their rare nights on the rooftop he found that he'd shared more with the swordsman in their short time of knowing each other than he'd shared with most people. The man was still an enigma but he felt that he was beginning to unravel the man's complexities. He felt like he was getting closer to understanding his roommate. Beyond that, Zoro was getting closer to understanding him, which he was surprised to realize was something he longed for.

"Sanji," Nami started in a gentle voice, "it sounds like you just need to bite the bullet and talk to him." Nami was always straightforward, she didn't speak in mysteries like Robin. She was blunt and up-front and unafraid of giving her honest opinion when it mattered. "I've known Zoro for a long time. He's a good guy. He wouldn't want to hurt his friends."

And there it was. Was Sanji a friend? Did Sanji even want to be Zoro's friend?

"I just," Sanji gathered his thoughts, "before he came along everything was so balanced and I was in control, and now I feel like my whole world is built on stilts and the slightest breeze will topple everything over. I just don't want to fuck up any more. I don't want to lose what I've worked so hard for"

"You won't lose anything Sanji. You can't let your past haunt you. I don't know all the details about your history but I know you aren't a lost little boy anymore. If someone from your past wants to come and take something away from you, I know you can kick their ass. And Luffy and me and everyone else will be there to kick their asses too.

Sanji laughed. He knew she was right and he was just having a moment of weakness. "God I feel so pathetic right now."

"Don't." Nami stated firmly. "You've listened to me cry about much more trivial things, I'm just returning the favor." She smirked, "You know how I hate to be in anyone's debt."

With a chuckle Sanji murmured, "Nami and debt certainly don't go together. Well unless it's someone else's debt."

They both laughed for a moment. Nami regarded her friend fondly before deciding to press him further.

"So what is this about your family? To be honest I wasn't aware you even had any…"

"I don't." Sanji stated coldly, "Not anymore." His expression softened, "Don't worry your pretty head with my problems, It's nothin-"

"Stop it Sanji." Nami's voice was stern. "You always do this. Try to take on everything yourself." She huffed, sitting up straighter and giving him a severe look. "Stop lying to yourself. You do have a family. We're you're family."

Sanji looked back at her with wide-eyed surprise. "Nami…"

"I understand if you don't want to talk about what's going on, if you need time to think things through. But don't you dare for a second try, or even think about going through this stuff alone. You hear me?" Nami was smiling now, really quite proud of herself for her smooth talking just now.

Sanji smiled, feeling much lighter than he had earlier. "Thank you…. Thank you."

Just then the door to his office burst open and one of the underchefs stumbled in, sweating and breathless, calling for him.

"Sanji, we really need you in the kitchen, I'm sorry to interrupt you, Miss Nami, but Carne and Patty got in an argument over who would make the dinner special, we're getting complaints about guests waiting too long for their appetizers, that new dishwasher already broke three plates and fired a spray of water over the prep table, got Gin in the eye and made some of the dishes soggy. It's a disaster in there. I'm sorry Miss Nami but, please…!" the chef had a frenzied and desperate look in his eyes that Sanji understood all too well.

Nami chuckled, turning to Sanji, "Go ahead, they need you."

The head chef stood, taking on a serious expression. "Tell Carne to get his head out of his ass and make the appetizers. Patty is on plating and presentation. If they argue tell them they're gonna replace the dishwasher. I'll make the dinner special myself. I'll be right in to see the damage. Bring my dear Nami a plate of that chocolate raspberry mousse for her troubles."

Nami grinned and began to stand, "Oh Sanji, you don't have to."

"I insist."

Back at the SUNNYGO Zoro and his students were gathered around a conference table in a meeting lead by none other than Usopp.

"- and so, it was with the aid of the infamous, world renowned super-hacker whose identity to this day remains unknown, the one and only, Sogeking, that we discovered the presence of a big time weapons dealer here in New York City. Thanks to my, er, ahem, Sogeking's masterful skills, the company has made contact to arrange a meeting while they are in the area!"

Carrot was listening intently, eyes glistening in excitement, when she shot her hand up in the air to ask a question. Usopp, delighted by his captivated audience, acknowledged her, "Yes, Carrot?"

"How did we manage to get the amazing and mysterious Sogeking to help us?" She asked earnestly. Zoro, already bored of Usopp's long-winded briefing, slapped a hand to his face at his gullible student's question.

"Well you see, Carrot, it was I, the great Usopp, who expertly negotiated -"

Zoro cut him off with a growl, "Just get on with it, already."

The long-nosed man visibly cowered. "Right, yes, I'll get back to that question! Um, moving on! You guys, the security team, will be meeting in person with these weapons dealers under the premise of buying weapons."

Zoro raised an eyebrow and his lips twitched into a smirk. Finally, he might be getting some action at work.

"The main mission is networking and gathering intel. We don't know who these guys are, but with the kind of tech their boasting, there's no way they're just small time weapon smugglers. They're definitely tied to some bigger supplier, most likely a legitimate manufacturer, or even the military. Now, I know you guys are primarily a security team, but Luffy has decided to send you guys in for this. You won't officially be representing us, you'll be going under the guise of a shell corporation that isn't connected to SUNNY. We've put some serious money and opportunities on the table for these weapons dealers, so we expect someone higher up to show to the meet. With any luck we won't be dealing with lackeys, but with someone who actually knows the business and has connections, so we can get an idea of who we're dealing with. This is a big deal because we've never seen such a big time weapons dealer make moves in the New York underground."

Everyone around the table nodded thoughtfully. Pedro piped up this time to ask, "Do we think these guys are connected with Joker?"

Zoro raised a skeptical brow. He hoped Pedro wasn't pulling some Batman reference, but Zoro had never heard of any "Joker" character.

"So far, no," Usopp started, then noticed Zoro's confused expression, "Ah, that's right Zoro, Joker showed up while you were away. We think he's the same person some used to call the Puppeteer, I don't know if you remember him? Our network wasn't that deep back then, but it seemed like that man was pulling a lot of strings at the time."

Zoro hummed thoughtfully as he tried to recall his earlier days with Luffy doing underground fights and hunting down criminals while becoming one himself. "Didn't he have some drug and human trafficking rings?"

"Yes, and now Joker runs all of them, which is why we think he might be the same person, just, levelled up. His ties run deep but no one's ever seen his face."

"Probably hiding in plain sight," Zoro ventured, smirking.

There was a momentary pause while Zoro pulled his bloodlust back in check and Usopp coughed awkwardly before continuing.

"So for the weapons handoff, I'm sending in Franky with you guys to check out the tech. He understands that stuff a-almost as good as me -" he laughed a boastful but slightly dishonest laugh.

Zoro chuckled, "If you're so good with that stuff maybe you should be the one coming in with us?"

Usopp laughed nervously, "I-I'll be behind the scenes taking care of surveillance and communication! Also I have this rare disease where I can't get too close to mob bosses with super weapons…" he laughed again and Zoro smiled amusedly. Usopp hadn't changed a bit in the three years he had been away.

Sliding his hands onto the smooth conference table, Zoro spoke up with his own question. "I don't understand why we don't just take them out at the hand off."

"Take out, like, you mean" Usopp laughed uncomfortably once again, until he realized Zoro was completely serious about taking out the weapons dealers on the spot. He coughed into his fist and explained, "W-Well, a few reasons actually. If their tech is any good, we might actually have a use for the weapons and want to establish a long term relationship with them."

"With weapons dealers?" Zoro growled, "You're talking about the people that put guns on the streets and make our neighborhoods unsafe for families."

"A-Ah, no, well, yes, ah, that was my first thought as well, but they specialize in advanced technology, they aren't the ones puting glocks and AK-47's on the street, they deal in more specialized weaponry. I haven't found evidence that they deal with local gangs; their products are too pricey for the average street thug. Th-That being said, I think there may be mafia involvement, as well as corporate, private security, contractors, and under the table government or military connections. They seem to deal with, er, white collar investors, so to say. That's not to say they're doing good business though, they're definitely putting weapons in the hands of people who shouldn't have them. But that's another reason we're getting involved. We want to find out who their customers are, and who their suppliers are. We're basically going in undercover until we get close enough to the source. It'll also be an opportunity to expand our range of influence and knowledge when it comes to underground business deals. As big as our network is, we barely even scratch the surface. We can't even begin to compare with guys like Joker, which means we have a long way to go before we can take him down. We've got to get our hands a little dirty if we want to clean up the city, if that makes sense."

A lot of this was going way over Zoro's head, but he felt like he understood the basics of it. "So we're going undercover as part of SUNNYGO to expose these weapons dealers?"

"Technically you'll be representing a shell corporation that is not related to SUNNYGO. We don't want this weapons deal to be tied back to the company. If someone manages to find a connection between SUNNY and illicit weapons trade it would be… not good…"

"Hmmm," this was all very complicated. "And for the meet, we're just going in to buy weapons and arranging future deals?"

"Exactly! Franky will be there to analyze the tech, he'll decide what to buy and do most of the negotiations. You guys will be his backup. I'll be monitoring surveillance and keeping you updated on the coms for anything out of the ordinary."

"And what if it goes sour?" Zoro shouldn't have been grinning at the thought.

"Ah, we're currently negotiating a location, one where you guys can get out fast. I'll take care of existing surveillance in the area and set up our own, so we'll know if anyone unexpected shows up. The police shouldn't catch wind of this exchange, since I, er, Sogeking communicated the deal over a heavily encrypted network. But if they do show up, I'll see them coming from miles away."

"And what if these guys don't like us. Will we have to take them out?"

"Um, well, seeing as they're coming to sell us an arsenal of high tech weapons, lets just hope it doesn't come to that…. Just don't do anything to piss them off okay?"

"Hm." Zoro crossed his arms over his chest. It seemed like a pretty simple job, and if all went well, it would be a boring one.

"I'm giving Pedro the location," Usopp said, "he'll be in charge of getting you guys there, then everything's in your and Franky's hands. I'll be in your ears."

"Why does Pedro get the location?" Zoro asked indignantly.

"Because you'll get lost and won't make the meet."

Everyone stifled their chuckles to Zoro's dismay. His lack of directional aptitude was no secret to anyone in the room. He clicked his tongue and turned his head while Usopp continued speaking.

"Anyway, starting tomorrow you'll be reviewing weapons training! Since the job is not on SUNNYGO property, it will be a free for all as far as guns go." Standing taller and placing his hands on his hips, Usopp spoke up boastfully, "The great sniper Captain Usopp will take you to my personal firing range! You've all had ballistics training before but don't think of this as a refresher course, prepare to have your mind blown!"

Carrot was beaming excitedly, bouncing in her seat at the prospect of weapons training.

"So that's it for the briefing, we'll go over more details in the coming days. If you have your own preferred weapons, bring them along tomorrow, and your permits, if you have those, which you should!"

With that, Usopp gave a comical salute and bounded out of the door. Zoro turned in his seat to face his class and leveled them with a serious look.

"This kind of work isn't in your job descriptions, so I want to make sure you're all okay with taking on this kind of job."

Carrot piped up just as cheerily as always, "Actually, our job descriptions did mention field trips!"

"What?" Zoro asked.

Pedro ran a hand through his shaggy hair as he addressed Carrot, "Actually, Nami told us to disregard that document because Luffy wrote it. But you're right. Our employment contract does stipulate certain out of office 'opportunities,' which I assumed would be something like this."

"Oh," was Zoro's simple reply. "So you're all okay with this?"

His class smiled and a few other's on the security team piped up.

"I'm down."

"We expected this!"

"I'm looking forward to it."

Zoro beamed at his students, "Good."

"Sensei," Carrot once again interjected, "you seem a bit out of it, you're not worried are you?"

Shaking his head, he replied "No, don't worry, it's nothing."

The young woman frowned, then her lips twitched into a sly grin, "Love troubles, huh?"

"Wha-what" the swordsman sputtered. Once again, he had been bested by women's intuition. "It's not. You're wrong. I'm just sick of salads."

Of course it was salad again that night. Sanji threw it together artfully as always. Zoro had been occupying himself in another one of his excessive and distracting workout routines. Left hand gripping the top frame of the doorway to his room, he hung from one arm doing a set of leg lifts followed by a one arm pull up. And of course, he was shirtless, tanned skin glistening with little beads of sweat, eyes stern and focused. A cold salad would do for Sanji what a cold shower was meant to and still his unchaste mind. Damn, he needed a smoke.

"Dinner's on the table," the chef called out to his roommate, then slipped on a coat and some loafers to go to the roof. A part of him hoped the shitty swordsman would follow, but given the guy's disposition these past few days, it was doubtful.

It was chillier than it had been just a month earlier. The wind danced around him as he lay back, the city lights as bright as always, indifferent to his personal affairs. There was a kind of anonymity with living in the city that Sanji rather liked. Everywhere was too crowded, everyone too busy to pay notice to one another. But it also made the bustling city full of people strangely lonely. Everyone was crowded together in the city yet so far apart. The streets below were endless and endlessly busy, far below his precarious perch at the edge of the roof. He wished he could fly. He wished he could soar over all the bullshit and escape. He wanted freedom. He thought he'd finally escaped his past but here it was encroaching on his new life with a vengeance and he wasn't sure what to do about it. He didn't know why his family was in town, he didn't know what they were planning, but he new it was all downhill from here. He wished Zoro would take a hint and join him on the roof, but he was alone, and alone in his thoughts.

He missed the connection between them. He'd be happy just to beat the guy up again. The fight at the club had been incredible, bodies flung at each other in a frenzy. He'd let his emotions run rampant and it had burned off some of the frustration of having just learned that his family was in town. The quality of the fight itself even vindicated Zoro of the affair with his brother, to a degree. He wanted more of that, whether by way of another physical brawl or just a petty argument. The silence between them was hell, and yes, he knew that it was his own fault for blowing off the man's conversations, but the weak attempts at small talk frankly pissed him off. The way Zoro acted around him as if he was walking on glass, afraid to do or say anything to set Sanji off was irritating to no end. He just needed things to be normal again. Needed an excuse to yell at the man, kick his ass up the wall. But instead Zoro was acting like a fucking kicked puppy. Did that man really think Sanji was so weak? So sensitive that he couldn't handle Zoro's shit? But how could Sanji outright say, "Come on Zoro, stop pussyfooting around and be an asshole again. I need it."

Sanji just needed relief. He had a shitty sense of what relief was if he actually wanted Zoro to return to his shitty attitude, but it set Sanji's mind at ease. He needed a friend. God, Sanji had a twisted idea of friendship.

Back in the apartment Zoro lay on the couch, waiting for the shit cook to return. He felt strange eating dinner alone knowing the chef was probably just up on the roof. But he figured the guy needed some time to himself, away from Zoro. Sanji must still be disgusted with him for having been with his brother. Zoro could understand but it still tugged at his heart painfully. He did his best to stay out of the chefs way, not wanting to cause the man more anxiety. He didn't know the details about Sanji's family but he knew it was bad. If Sanji wanted to tell him, he would, Zoro wouldn't press. It was clear everything was weighing heavily on Sanji and a part of Zoro wanted to be there for him, wanted to sit next to him and pull the chefs head on his shoulder and listen. Just listed to anything the man needed to say. He wanted to comfort him, tell him everything would be okay, tell him his family could fuck off because Zoro was there, Zoro would protect him - not that he needed protection, but he would be a barrier nonetheless. A buffer to that troubled past. But Zoro wasn't that kind of person to Sanji. He didn't even think he could call himself a friend. There were moments, lying on the rooftop, eating dinner together, putting that god forsaken shelf together, even while fighting, there were moments that he really felt like Sanji was a friend. Perhaps even a close friend. But it seemed presumptuous to assume the chef felt the same way. And right now, the way Sanji behaved signalled to Zoro that he needed space. So Zoro would give him that. He held his tongue, he didn't start arguments or provoke the chef. He was fucking docile. He cleaned up after himself, did the dishes without complaint, and drank alone in his room. He would give the chef his peace and quiet to deal with his issues on his own, without Zoro's meddling and interference.

Day 8 of purgatory.

To say it was a rough week at work would be quite an understatement. Chaos seemed to follow Sanji around like a shadow, and the restaurant's kitchen was in a perpetual frenzy. His own brain was starting to fail him, and he was ashamed to admit that his own performance was suffering. The tension at home had been slowly eating away at him, and when he got to work Sanji was already so close to losing his cool he almost fucked up a dish. He barely made it through the Saturday dinner rush. Things were bad. He needed to blow off some steam. Normally on stressful nights he'd go to the fight club, but he just couldn't go back there after his fights with Zoro and Ichiji. Just thinking about seeing them that time made him so furious he might black out. As much as he wanted to go kick someone's ass, he knew showing up at the club in his current state wouldn't do him any favors. But damn, he was so close to just saying "fuck it."

When he finally got home, he began preparing another salad with some grilled chicken and roasted squash over a bed of arugula and fresh greens. To be quite honest, Sanji was also getting pretty sick of eating cold salads every day. At this point he was stubbornly doing it to get a rise out of the swordsman, to piss him off enough that he'd do something. There was also something strangely satisfying about chopping the green vegetables that reminded him of the moss head. He chopped them with slightly excessive force and concentration, filling the quiet apartment with the rhythmic "tap, tap, tap" of the knife against the chopping block.

Zoro was normally very good with asceticism. He could make do with very little, he could sleep on the bare ground, eat only rice and water, exist in silence and self-denial and live solely off of meditation. But the miasma of tension in the air was really messing with his zen, or his qi, or vibe or whatever. It was oppressive. The chef was exuding some kind of aura that just made it impossible to focus. And the tap-tap of the cutting board was just unbearable. He grabbed a hand towel and threw it over his shoulders, unable to focus on his workout, and stepped into the kitchen where dinner was probably ready. It was, and it was the final straw. Salad. Salad again. Something inside him came dangerously close to snapping, and he couldn't stop the groan of disappointment from escaping his throat.

"You got a problem?" the chef asked sharply.

Zoro knew he shouldn't say anything. He knew he should hold his tongue, but right now it felt a lot like he had nothing to lose. "I'm sick to death of salad."

"Too bad, It's good for you. And it matches your hair."

"I feel fucking malnourished."

At this Sanji let out a cynical laugh. "Malnourished? You don't know malnourished." Zoro had hit a sore spot. "If you hate it so much make your own damn food."

"Maybe I should."

Sanji let out another humourless laugh and spat, "I can't wait to see the day, shit swordsman."

"Fuck you, I should kick your ass," Zoro snapped back.

"Like you could, I already beat your ass once."

"That fight was bullshit."

"What was bullshit," Sanji rounded on him wielding salad tongs, eyes alight with genuine rage, "Was you showing up with my fucking brother as a fucking DATE you sick fuck."

"Fuck off!" Zoro whipped the towel from around his neck and threw it on the table.

"Take that dirty fucking thing off the dinner table," Sanji snarled, pointing to the offending object with his tongs.

"Make me."

That was it. Sanji barely had the restraint to set the tongs down before he spun around, sending a roundhouse kick over the table and towards Zoro's face. The swordsman leaned back unflinching as the foot passed just in front of his nose.

"Come at me for real, shit cook."

Sanji's blood was boiling. One quick stride and he was swinging over the dinner table feet-first going in for the kill. He pulled off his apron in a fluid motion and threw kick after kick in his roommate's direction, keeping Zoro moving backwards on the defensive until they were in the living room.

Zoro, having lured Sanji out of the kitchen, now had room to duck and swing, grazing Sanji in the side just as he was sidestepping away. The impact was minimal but it helped Zoro gauge the cook's speed and movement. Another kick came flying towards him.I see it. He caught it mid air, bracing himself for the aftershock, then smiled wickedly, thinking he had the cook in his grasp. But this was nothing new to Sanji, he flipped backwards sending his other leg swinging upwards in a flying back-flip acrobatic move that Zoro had not thought humanly possible. He released Sanji's foot and stumbled back, but the toe of Sanji's shoe clipped his chin, sending his teeth crashing together and catching a bit of his tongue. He tasted blood in his mouth. This was getting exciting. Sanji had perfect balance and precision, he could turn on a dime and it made his strikes deadly accurate and hard to predict. Zoro's overwhelming brute strength combined with his perfect control made him an even match, despite their vastly different fighting styles. Zoro had to focus hard on not getting distracted again, as he had been the last time they fought. Sanji was just such an excellent and unique fighter. Sanji, too, had to struggle to remain in the fight, as Zoro's shirtless body moving in front of him had many points of interest that he would have loved to study more leisurely. They exchanged blows, revelling in the adrenaline rush, the physical exertion, and the opportunity to finally take their frustrations out on each other. Zoro charged towards Sanji who skipped backwards just out of reach, one hand in his pocket, the other hand casually unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt. It wasn't intended as a distraction, but Zoro found himself momentarily distracted and neglected to reel his mind back in before a devastating kick connected with his chest. He fell backwards winded and Sanji was instantly on him, pinning him down with vice-like thighs, straddled over him with his hair a tangled mess and eyes wild with frenzy. Zoro's breath caught in his throat and he found himself frozen in place as his devastatingly attractive roommate stared down at him with an indiscernible madness in his eyes.

A hunger buried deep inside Sanji crawled up and possessed him. There, with the object of both his frustrations and affections trapped underneath him, his body took the situation into its own hands and moved on its own. Before his mind could slam on the breaks and before he even realized what he was doing, he had leaned down, alarms blaring in his brain all the while, and pressed his mouth onto Zoros. He kissed him fervently, desperately. His body was at the mercy of his longing as his tongue swept greedily over Zoro's slack lips, then plunged inside to plunder the swordsman's own mouth from him. Tongue met tongue and with their lips sealed together he pulled his tongue back to suck Zoro's tongue into his mouth, stealing it. He tasted the blood, the metallic tang only fueled the fire within him.

Zoro had his mouth taken from him, his damaged tongue literally stolen from within his own mouth. He was stunned, his mind was transferred to some other dimensional realm. He was being kissed within an inch of his life, his mind was wiped blank, and he couldn't tell if his heart was racing or if it had stopped completely.

And just as fast as it had started, it was over. Sanji broke away with a loud, wet sound, leaving Zoro open-mouthed, cold, and depleted. It took him only a split second to realize what he had done, and in an instant he was on his feet and out the door, keys in hand.

It took Zoro considerably longer to realize what had just transpired, and he lay on the floor rather uselessly until his brain caught up with his current situation. Sanji had kissed him. Not just any kiss either, he had devoured him. Adrenaline pumping and heart racing, Zoro found himself lying on his back with a silly smile plastered on his reddened lips. Whatever was going on between them, this meant something. This meant that somewhere under all that disinterest and frustration, Sanji had feelings for him, however small. Perhaps it was only sexual frustration, perhaps it was only a product of anger, but it was still something. And that meant Zoro had a chance. The clouds seemed to part, the darkness had lifted, there was a light at the end of the tunnel.