Title: Angel's Revolver

Pairing: Sanji x Zoro, others.

Rating: M for sexuality, profanity, adult themes

Summary: AU. A lone, forlorn stranger discovered in the night, his speech elegant, lovely, he seems to be of another era. Zoro finds himself strangely captivated by the otherworldly aura which permeates the mysterious man. It isn't long before he falls for the man, yet months after they meet, the blond flees at a moment's notice, refusing to explain or promise to return. Not one to stand back and let the man of his life escape, Zoro chases after the blond—only to find himself hopelessly submerged in a preternatural world he had no idea existed; for the handsome stranger belongs to a realm of spirits, demons, angels, vampires, shapeshifters, paranormal creatures, and primordial magick.

Dedication: Merry Christmas The Wandering Swordsman for being such a wonderful person to talk with. :D You're such an amazing person for participating so enthusiastically and generously in the celebration :3 So the first fic I made was for you. Much love from this crazy-ass idiot. :D

Chapter One

Genesis

You look at me, and the universe of your eyes tells me everything

You speak to me, and whispering in my ear, ask me if I love you a little

You embrace me, and your words are, "What will happen tomorrow when you have gone?"

Even now, I feel you distant

Tomorrow, love will sleep, and put away her roses until the sun shines

And I tell you, my voice trembling, that time is hurrying

And that day we dream of will come, turn off the light, the night is leaving

-"Que Pasara Manana", Jose Luis Perales

~0~

The window was half-open; the armchair, the loveseat, the large, king bed all seemed desolate. The bedroom was cold, abandoned. He had been here for thirteen months or so, but already the furniture seemed unfamiliar and cold. Relics that had no intimate ties to him. It would not hurt to say farewell.

He could feel green eyes on the back of his head. Accusing him, damning him, holding him; or at least attempting to. It was too much; he abruptly turned and left the bedroom, heading towards the small and homely kitchen. The green eyes followed. And there was a whisper of fingertips on his waist as he brushed past. The mute want that sounded louder in his ears than the most screeching wail.

And again, surveying the kitchen in which at least some sort of warmth remained. But the eyes, those eyes, that silence, it was suffocating. He needed to break it, destroy it, annihilate it entirely. Sanji shook his head, gathering his strength, and with a tilt of his blond head, broke the silence which had been thickly accumulating. Broke it forever with the easy-going lilt of his words. With that soft, brazen smile.

"You take care of this here place, all right kid? It's particular with me." Sanji turned around and with a cheerfulness which belied the gravity and moroseness which weighted Zoro down, reached a hand out and jauntily fixed a pan which hung slightly crooked on the wall.

Zoro shook his head, eyes now boring into his, now flicking down to what he was holding in his hand, now glancing with a look just short of desperation at the clock above the mantelpiece. "You know I can't clean and cook. I'm going to mess it up as soon as you walk out the door. " A weak threat. It hurt to hear it. How far gone was this man?

Sanji shrugged and turned to survey his friend again, "Well, can't be helped, can it? It's yours now. It always was. Just take care of it, is all I ask. If I even have the right to say that." He smiled, and patting Zoro's shoulder, brushed past him into the living room. Zoro followed him, padding in his footsteps. He seemed attached to him by some invisible spider's web.

"Are you leaving already? There's still time-" Zoro asked, half in alarm as Sanji placed a contemplative hand on the handle of his suitcase and glanced at the large grandfather in the living room.

He shook his head, "No, I know. I was just…"

They stared at each other, faces only so far apart. Sanji narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to gauge Zoro. Zoro stared back nakedly, dark green eyes wide and exposed.

The thick, pregnant air hung between them and Sanji knew, understood that Zoro was going to speak and so kill himself. He waited, calmly, for the plea and for his subsequent rejection. Waited for the end of the world, the end which he knew had to come someday when he first peered up at this man's face and fell into his eyes.

Zoro held out a hand, palm up in a silent plea, "…please."

It was a cracked whisper issued from fleeting lips. Hanging, spinning, crystallizing between them. So fragile a request, so utterly pathetic and sincere.

Sanji shook his head mutely, eyes trained on Zoro's. On those wide, green, unhappy eyes. He understood Zoro's pain, sympathized. But what must be, must be. So it was writ. He had to return, return home. They were calling him back, and he must go. He had left because to have remained would have driven him insane; but now it was no longer just him. He knew from the beginning that his freedom had been short-lived. Fragile and transparent. The chains that held him fast could stretch, but not break,

Zoro didn't understand any of this, knew nothing of it, and so pleaded, "Sanji…please. Please don't go."

It hung there, stagnating. Holding them and rotting softly. Sanji could feel the heavy weight of the request on his chest, sitting there unfairly.

Zoro reached out and traced a hand down the lapels of his suit; Sanji remained motionless, his face wooden.

"Zoro. I'm going. I have to. We talked. You agreed. I leave in thirty minutes. Less. Twenty five. My plane is scheduled, my ticket bought, my shit packed. I'm not changing my mind now."

He paused and when he spoke again, his tone was softer, but none the less determined for that. He knew that his blue eyes and rough lips were cutting the man to pieces, but there was nothing he could do. Sanji's hand went to the hand on his chest and gently returned it to its owner. He said, softly-

"Give up."

~0~

Yes, here it was. That old, disgusting feeling. That feeling of bitter pity and a heartbreak which throbbed unceasingly. Sanji looked at him with an air of a man who has made his mind up and plans to keep it made up. There was no contempt in that warm blue gaze, nor was there annoyance or pity; but it hurt all the same. The blue eyes were open, confidant, fearless.

Zoro wasn't sure what to do.

It infuriated and frightened him. He, Zoro, who had always been determined, resourceful, intelligent. The man whom everyone depended on and admired. This person in front of him could undo him with just the tilt of his head, with just one slow, charming, stomach-flopping smile. Could annihilate him with the sudden, unexpected announcement that he was leaving, leaving now, leaving with no clear idea as to when he would be back if he ever would.

Just a goodbye, it was nice while it lasted. I'm sorry you fell in love with me, I'm sorry I fell in love with you. I hate hurting you but I have to go. I have to leave tomorrow, immediately. No, I can't tell you. You wouldn't understand, love, no, sorry, I meant, Zoro. It's complicated, I don't want you involved.

Just, try not to remember the color of my eyes. Try not to remember how you bit my shoulder when you came for the first time all over my stomach. Try not to remember what my hair looks like when the morning sunlight hits it and makes it shine like gold on the pillow and how you like to kiss it when you think I am asleep.

Try not to remember how you cried when I entered you and how you smiled, wobbly, when I kissed the back of your neck in consolation. Try not to remember the first time you cried out my name and the first time you whimpered for someone else.

Try not to remember that. It's in the past. There are more like me out there. I'm sure you'll find the right one. Someone who won't leave you like this.

Yes, I did love you. Why do you ask?

He looked at Sanji, all the memories and all the scenes from the beginning of their relationship, their tumultuous and strange relationship shuffling and blurring through the very recesses of his soul. Shuffling and blurring. Shuffling and blurring until he couldn't think any more. Couldn't think and could only blurt out the desperation, wretched soul that he was.

"You…you're still leaving?" he half-asked, half-demanded. "After everything...after everything we've done…you think it's perfectly all right to just up and leave?" Hands, with no volition of their own, reached up and fisted in that stark, immaculate suit.

Sanji only looked at him. Blue eyes so beautiful, so gorgeous. Blue like the ocean, blue like the sky, blue like heartbreak, cold ice.

"Say something." Zoro said curtly, spitting the words out, knowing they were coming out harsher than he wanted them to be. Had ever intended them to be.

"I said everything that was needed to be said already. I said it last night. I said-"

"You said shit. I don't know what kind of mystery you're involved in that you can't even tell me where the hell you're going. You won't even tell me what it's about or why you're doing what you're doing! You don't even know if you're coming back; you won't even give me a yes or a no when I ask you if you're going to call me!"

Sanji looked at him calmly, refusing to be drawn into the rant, "I'm not saying it again Zoro. Understand. That's all I'm asking you to do." He glanced at the clock again, and Zoro felt his temper raise a notch even as his sorrow peaked.

"Understand? How the hell am I going to just be okay with you leaving? I fucking met you a year or so ago, and I gave you everything I fucking had!" Zoro growled, the red in his cheeks suffusing his entire body with heat, "You took my…you took me and I let you. I let you do that to me; I let you do everything you wanted to me. I gave you my body. My fucking trust-I loved you-I love you-why the hell are you leaving! Fuck you too!"

Suddenly, shame prevented him from saying sex. And that hurt. It hurt.

Sanji's hands went around his back as he sagged unconsciously into the warm, distant, familiar body and buried his head in the juncture where neck kissed shoulder. The black of Sanji's suit darkened to pitch with the silent, flowing lamentations.

He said hoarsely, "I'll miss you."

~0~

Sanji slid his hands across his naked torso and Zoro gasped at the sudden intrusion into his much guarded personal space.

"Sanji?"

"Who else would be here in the middle of the night?" the blond murmured into the curve of his ear, amused.

Zoro let out a relieved sigh and his hand went to the one on his stomach. "I thought you left."

"I did."

Zoro turned around from where he had been peering sightlessly into the fridge and saw nothing. There had never been anyone there. Already it had been five hours since the most important man in his life had walked out without so much as an explanation and already he was experiencing withdrawal symptoms. He cursed and, tears stinging his eyes, went back to bed. The empty bed. Everywhere it hurt.

The bed Sanji would never sleep in again; the kitchen he would never cook in again; the sofa he would never again lounge in. The shower were they would never make love again. Damn it all.

The bed was cold when he returned to it. It had given up its warmth.

~0~

"Are you okay?" he asked, cautious. He wasn't a man to mingle, nor one to go out of his way to hear some guy's tearjerker story. It wasn't that he was a bad man or even an apathetical one. He was simply a shy person, naturally quiet, prone to blush if thrown under the limelight, and more comfortable with a sword than with a person.

Which is why he was having doubts about approaching the man in the first place.

But the guy had caught his attention. Ragged blond hair and aqua eyes filled with desolation. Too many vodka bottles at his feet. Too close to the edge of the building. The guy looked like a homeless business man who had gone homeless after he had lost it all on the stock market. The suit was nicely cut, and the shoes were nice. But they were all ragged, like the man himself.

Zoro had just exited the large mall and walked on one of the connecting bridges to where he had parked his car on the fifth and highest level of the parking lot complex. He had been walking, carrying the bag of his purchases, when he spotted the crumpled figure.

The guy was gorgeous. But the thin frame, the haunted gaze, the cigarette between pale lips. He looked more like a vampire than a model. There was that intense loneliness which seemed to envelop his broad, gaunt frame. The aquamarine eyes which looked afar and saw things that no mortal should be able to see.

Zoro couldn't help but approach, feeling stupid and shy. "…Are you okay?" He coughed out, feeling worms of apprehension bury their way into his heart.

The guy didn't turn, didn't bat an eye, did not so as much acknowledge that Zoro was there.

He took a deep breath, "Hey. Mister? You look pretty damn bad if you don't mind me saying."

No response.

Zoro drew closer, feeling the tension tightening in his stomach. What the hell's wrong with this guy? And reached out and tentatively touched the man's shoulder.

The guy finally rolled his head back, head cocking, eyes bored and slightly irritated, their sapphire irises iridescent.

That was the first moment Zoro understood that there was something preternatural about the man. Something beyond the normal. Something damned.

Those eyes looked too beautiful to be human. There seemed to be oceans swimming within them. Entire worlds. And the man's skin, beautiful. Flawless. The hair, spun gold.

"You just won't give up will you? I tried ignoring you the first two times, but then you had to go and put your dirty mugs on me." the guy said, contempt lacing his words. "Piss off. I'm not some ho. Get your action somewhere else."

That had pissed Zoro off. He never liked starting confrontations, never liked beating brows with some other person. But something about that rakish, condescending smile irritated him. "Hey, I just wanted to see if you were all right, no need to get on your high horse when it's obvious you're drunk and contemplating suicide."

"Who said I was-

Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep-

Zoro slammed the alarm clock on his bed side. Dreaming. He was dreaming of when he had met Sanji. His hand reached up, already knowing, and wiped the wet marks from under his eyes.

The day was going to be hell.

~0~

A/N: Thank you for enjoying the meal of my mind. Now…pay me, please.