A/N: So, this is my first foray into the world of smut. And I've chosen the One Piece fandom for it! Rather, my friend chose it and this pairing for me. Even assigned me a challenge to go with it. Ain't she just the sweetest thing? I would love to hear what people think of this, so I know whether I should continue rating in this category or not.

Day One - Write a story revolving around a kiss. Simple, sweet, and to the point; the kiss should be just that. No sex allowed in this story. You have to explore the emotional aspect of your chosen pairing - establishing a base as to why they're together.

Sanji was standing just to Zolo's left, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his pants and mostly burnt out ciggarette clamped tight between his lips. Dark blue eyes were narrowed slightly, brows creased and full lips in a tight line. Concentrating - just like he had been for the last several minutes.

The first-mate shifted slightly, shoulders pushing further into the hard wood of the main mast. Everything else stayed the same. Mouth lax, eyes closed but for the slightest sliver and breath even, looking for all the world like he was asleep. Both arms were crossed over his chest, right hand resting on the hilt of his swords, fingers twitching slightly every few moments.

Silence. Complete silence - just like it had been since they docked here, on Marojam Island. When everyone but the chef and the swordsman took off for town, for supplies, for a chance away from the boring deck that has become their home.

Zolo stayed for watch.

Sanji offered no reasons. Not even to Nami, who left worried and slightly annoyed. Hardly even a reason was given to himself. Because this wasn't normal, was it? These feelings, these thoughts, the very notion that he should take action on them. None of them were normal.

Then again, Sanji didn't like thinking about it very often. So maybe they were normal, and he had just missed that little notion.

Whatever it was, normal or not, it had led to this. Him, standing over Zolo, believing the other to be asleep, and wondering just what the Hell he should do about everything. A decision that he was never truly able to make. Had to just act on, because suddenly a large, strong hand was clamped around his ankle and Zolo was glaring at him, brows creased in annoyed confusion.

"What the Hell?!" barked Sanji, trying to jerk his foot away. The fingers tightened, blunt nails digging into the thick fabric of his suit pants. "Let go of my damn foot, Marimo!"

Zolo shifted slightly, using his free hand to push himself further up the mast, the light fabric of his shirt snagging on the wood as he went. "Why should I?"

"W-what?" stammered Sanji, slightly taken aback by the counter-question.

"You've been standing there for the last five minutes, fucking staring at me." said Zolo, annoyance creeping into his voice. "So why the Hell should I just let you walk off without an explanation?"

For a long moment, at least it seemed very drawn out to the blond, Sanji just stared at him. The sheer fact that Zolo had been awake, had just been pretending to sleep, had blind-sided him. More than that, it had embarressed him. And the chef didn't like being embarressed.

A light blush starting to creep up his neck, Sanji gnashed his teeth together and gave his left leg a violant jerk. Zolo yanked back - and the deck was still wet from an early shower, the chef not expecting the motion, feet flying out from beneath him and then he was falling, falling, falling and slamming into the other mans chest with a grunt.

It was instint, what he did after that. From their constant fights, their scuffles, their arguements. Sanji didn't think when he curled his fists into Zolo's shirt, pulled his knee back as far as he could in the new position and jammed it into the swordsmans side.

Zolo gave a muttered curse, but it was more because he was angry then actually bothered by the half-hearted attack. Confused too, because he didn't get what the other mans issue was. But he went with the flow and wasn't one to back down from a fight, instead curling one calloused hand around a slender shoulder, the other hand twisting around to rest on Sanji's side furthest from him, and flipped the man.

The thunk that sounded from the action, from Sanji being slammed onto the deck and Zolo pinning him there, resounded through-out the empty ship.

They wrestled for a moment, hands and legs flying, faces curled into a snarls and teeth bared. Moments passed by fast, actions blurring and motions fast and angry. It ended with the same noise that it started with, as Zolo slammed Sanji's hand onto the deck above his head, one hand pinning both wrists there. The rest of the swordsman was all but pressed against Sanji, knees pinning down the martial artists thighs, hips against hips, faces inches apart from each other.

Sanji's breaths were coming in hard, fast pants and he knew that it wasn't just because of the short tussle. Zolo didn't seem to notice it though, nor did he seem to notice their too-intimate position.

"Now," he growled, voice low - and Sanji could feel a rush of air hit his face with each word. "what the Hell did you want, perv-chef?"

Silence greeted him, and Sanji found himself taking in every aspect of the slightly older man, just as he had found himself doing the past few months. The sharp yet attractive angles of his face, lips rough and chapped and skin kissed copper from constant training in the sun. Eyes narrowed, but not out of anger or hate, he realized.

Confusion. It was confusion there, and the same emotion was suddenly mirrored in Sanji's own eyes.

"Well?" prompted Zolo, shifting his weight into a more comfortable position. A bunched up section of haramaki pressed into Sanji's groin, drawing forth a slight, breathy gasp.

Zolo pulled his head back some and arched a brow, completely unaware of the fact that leaning his upper half back was putting more weight onto Sanji's crotch. And then Sanji just stopped thinking, because wasn't this what he wanted to get across to Zolo anyway? Hadn't he wanted to tell the other man that he really fucking liked him? Wasn't this as good a chance as any?

Sanji thought so, and then he stopped thinking.

He gave a sudden jerk, hands breaking free from the others grasp. One hand flew up and curled around the back of Zolo's neck, the other tightening its grip in the swordsmans shirt, and then Sanji was leaning up and up and up, slamming his lips into Zolo's.

It only lasted for a moment, but in that moment he felt everything. Felt just how right it was. How past normal it made him feel. Like he was on top of the world and then some. And then it was over - because Zolo was suddenly scrambling off of him, eyes wide and was that surprise on his face?

Yes, Sanji decided, it was. And that was also a light blush staining his cheeks, as he took several steps away from where Sanji was still laying.

"W-what the fuck was that, bastard?" snarled Zolo, but there was an obvious lack of anger in his words. No chance for Sanji to answer either, because he was already spinning on his heel and disappearing below deck.

Later, Sanji would discover that it had been the swordsmans first kiss since a dark-haired girl, years and years ago. At the moment, he was still trying to decide if he wanted another one.