Me: I got this really good idea, but I'm gonna wait until I'm finished with Baby Steps prompts to write the second chapter. I warn you, it's super aggressive.

Disclaimer: Nada is mada which means nothing can possibly be mine in five million years.

The blonde man bitterly scowled as the large red loveseat flew towards his lover only a mere two feet away, who dodged it easily. Said lover wore a hurt expression; tears streaming down his face, eyebrows knitted together in hurt and hatred, and cheeks deeply flushed in anger. Zoro and Sanji never broke eye contact, even as their eyes burned from held back bawling tears.

Sanji was in a worse state. His heart; utterly shattered for the millionth time in this fucked up relationship. It was the same thing every other month for three years. Zoro would come home around 2:30 A.M. drunk and smelling of sex and sweat, passing out on the couch so Sanji wouldn't be alerted. The cook had left and returned countless times, as well as the factory worker, but somehow, some way, for some unexplainable reason they always came back.

Not this time.

Sanji stormed to their shared room, ignoring Zoro's yelling and the brutal sounds of splitting wood. "Where the fuck are you going?! Don't walk away when I'm talking to you!" Zoro followed him, clenching his fists and restraining from punching yet another wall. He wasn't going to give him the time of day. He packed his suit case for the thousandth time in the last three months, while the green hair ranted and raved angrily. "Oh, here we go! The packing, the stupid silence, the leaving; how about we skip this shit and you just keep your ass at home?"

"Don't you dare call this my home, bastard! This isn't anywhere near it!"

"Home: the place where one fucking lives."

"Sarcastic fuck."

"Whiny asshole."

Sanji felt something snap in the inside of him, he assumed the last chunk of his patience. "Are you saying that I'm WHINING about you fucking my step brother?!"
Zoro looked surprised, but even so the hatred didn't falter. "I didn't fuck him, just like I didn't fuck all the people you accused me of before! Why the hell do you keep thinking that? Do you seriously not trust me this much?"

"You ask why, Zoro? You ask why when I know your fucking work schedule, and you come home four hours later than you're supposed to smelling like the next whore you slept under? I'm done with getting hurt by your disloyalty. When I leave, I'm gone for good. Spend your life with one of your precious booty calls from now on." Sanji's suitcase was packed in no time, seeing as he never fully unpacked it the last few times. Zoro had fresh tears streaming down his face; he seemed like he wanted to say something, but for some reason couldn't. How could Sanji think he would cheat? Zoro admired him as though he were more precious than gold. Most of the time Zoro forgot that he even had a job. That's how much Sanji made him feel; like he didn't have a damn care in the world except for the blonde. Was the cook leaving for real this time? Or would this be another one of their petty brawls?

Sanji shoved his way past the other roughly, causing Zoro's shoulder to painfully collide with the outer threshold. Rubbing the sore spot, he followed Sanji regardless.

"Sanji-"

"No, shut the fuck up. I mean, y-you always fucking do this to me! I loved you and-"

Loved?

"-you left me almost every night for a damn hooker. The fuck do they have that I don't besides not giving a shit about you? You fucking unfaithful asshole. Learn what you fucking have before you lose it the next time." The blonde stomped out of the house, fuming and broken. He wouldn't look back. He couldn't. He knew that Zoro would be in the doorway, crying, looking lost and miserable like a child who lost its puppy. Sanji choked down the urge to do so as he threw open his car door and got inside. He patted himself down, cursing when he remembered where his keys were: on the podium. Sighing with frustration, he got out, only to find that the door was shut already. Luckily it wasn't locked. The podium stood by the front door, so all Sanji had to do was peer in and grab the car keys. Once he did, Zoro's gruff voice drifted in from the living room.

"I don't fucking care. Either today or tomorrow, but please come over. I need it as soon as possible. I need it now."

Anger swelled in his chest as well as a feeling of loss. It hasn't even been two goddamn minutes yet and the bastard does something so heartless? Did he even care about Sanji at all? Now undeniably shattered, the blonde slammed the door after retrieving those blasted keys.

~:*()*:~

The snazzy building never lost its fancy touch, even after ten years that it has been standing. He promised that he wouldn't come here again; his actual home. Whenever Sanji and Zoro fought and he left the house, Zeff, his uncle and world known chef, is usually the first person he confronts. But Sanji always tells him that he's wrong about the mosshead and returns every single time, which makes their Uncle/Nephew relationship a strange and sarcastic one, but still better than the relationship he had with his father. He said he wouldn't need to come back to the Baratie ever again, to rely on Zeff ever again.

Well look where he fucking ended up.

The Baratie was unbelievably packed today. Waiters were practically rushing from left and right of the busy building, carrying trays on trays of delicate foods. Sanji was welcomed any time though Zeff never said it. Maneuvering through the bustling choreboys, the blonde eventually made it to the kitchen. Zeff could be seen towering over the stove with his gigantic chef hat, from Sanji's point of view he was cooking some kind of stir fry. As the French doors repeatedly hit his back to open and close, Sanji called for his uncle's attention. The old man didn't respond, though he was only a few feet away. Granted, it might have been harder to hear over shouts and grease crackles. "Oi, shitty old man! Oi! OI~!"

"Damnit, eggplant! What the hell are you doing in my restaurant?" Zeff's usual stoic voice sourly questioned. Sanji could tell the love was there, even though it was tightly sealed. "Keep your mustache braided. I just wanted to tell you that I'm crashing on the couch for a few days until I buy an apartment. No need to have you getting a heart attack when you see me later, is there?" Can I please come back for a while? It might be really over.

Zeff grunted sternly, "I don't give a damn. Get your ugly ass out of my kitchen before you make the fruit spoil." You're always welcome to come back. We'll talk about it.

The blonde nodded and left the overly squeezed in restaurant, heading for Zeff's house a few blocks up the street. That old man accepted him no matter what he said or did. Hell, Sanji was sure Zeff would rob a bank with him if it came down to it. His uncle made him think about life a lot; basically his future. The entire drive the blonde chewed on his cigarette thinking about how this incident might end this time around, and if Zoro would ever confess. He barely noticed the large building he was passing until he almost hit the back of Zeff's truck, which was parked neatly in front of a little oak tree. Sanji got out of his vehicle stiffly, the previous thoughts still lingering in his mind. He took out his house keys and forcibly jammed it into the keyhole with shaky fingers. He wanted to get inside the house as soon as possible before it happened and he'd be too late. Sanji's breathing became heavier as he clutched onto his chest, directly over his pain-filled lungs. This occurred every time he left Zoro, never when Zoro left him. This occurred only when he stayed with his uncle, heaven knows why. Sanji tossed the door open, not bothering to close it as he sprinted upstairs, feeling the air slowly begin to vanish from his body. He went to his old room and rummaged hurriedly through his dresser drawers in search of his clearly needed inhaler. Once found Sanji took two gigantic inhales and crashed down onto his old bed. His childhood room would never change; the rock band posters on the walls, the now broken tube T.V. sitting on the counter, his racecar bed frame Zeff never brought himself to dismantle and box it in the attic; all still there. The blonde sighed, ignoring the fact that he may need his inhaler again. Zoro, why? What did the blonde not give him that the other bastards did? Was it the sex or him in general? Did Zoro just like having different pieces of ass pretty much every night? He wanted to know badly, his heart ached to find out why. To fall for someone that didn't even want you could break even the strongest men's wills.

Sanji's phone vibrated violently in his back pocket. He didn't feel like talking to anyone, then again it would be helpful to stop thinking about the cause of his depression. Reluctantly, he pulled it out and skillfully flipped it open, pressing it to his light red ear. "Hello?"

"Stacy can I come over after school-oo-oo-ool," the voice sang carelessly.

"Usopp, I'm not in the mood."

"If you're not in the mood we can go to the pool-oo-oo-ool."

"It's happened again," Sanji stated flatly, massaging his throbbing right temple. The line went dead silent before Usopp shrieked in agony and frustration. A second voice that Sanji made out to be his precious mellorine Nami butted into the conversation, yelling about her damaged eardrums.

Nami and Usopp were roommates at a community college, and the girls' dorms were filled in their first year. Usopp was the blonde's best friend, and the only person who had another bed to spare at the time. Believe or not, the two bitched and moaned at each other for petty things until they got used to living together. They both still don't quite get along, but it's better than a year ago.

"The hell are you squeaking about?"

"NOOOO! Why can't the world be at peace?! Why does there need to be heartbreak?!" Usopp cried. Sanji rolled his eyes, picturing a fetal positioned longnosed guy sobbing on the floor, mumbling about love loss. Usopp should know about this sort of thing, seeing as his ex-fiancee Kaya left him a month ago. Yes, Usopp knew from experience how bad he was hurting, which was horribly.

"Sanji-kun, again with Zoro?" Nami inquired. Only that type of subject gets the longnose this emotional.

"Yes, my darling. I'm sorry to taint your breathtakingly perfect ears to say that it is so. But you don't have to worry your pretty head about it anymore. I left the asshole."

"Yeah, for at the most two days. Seriously, when are you two going to stop? I mean, what was it about this time? Still accusing Zoro of cheating, ne?"

Sanji angrily spat out, "It's not accusing if you know already! And don't get me started on what that heartless jerk did."

"Okay, let's hear who he possibly fucked this time, shall we?" Nami mocked. She stubbornly thought that Sanji was way over his head with this accusation. Every single time it was Zoro cheating; nothing else. The blonde refused to believe anything otherwise because of his so-called limited proof.

Sanji lit his fifth cigarette that hour, the craving long gone. He smoked to smoke now; it didn't matter if too much nicotine in one day killed him anymore. He expected things to be better if it did. Blowing out his drag away from the receiver (because God knows how Usopp would flip out), his response slipped out short and simple. "Vergo."

"Your BROTHER? What the fuck, ew. I doubt Zoro would do that. Vergo might, considering he hates your soul, but Zoro, no," Nami objected. Sanji wasn't convinced. How did he know Zoro wasn't fucking Vergo since day one? What has Zoro did to deny it besides spouting meaningless words? Not a damn thing. And the blonde was absolutely sick of it.

"How do you know?" Usopp curiously questioned, though Sanji hadn't really wanted to get into details. Painful, deceitful details. He replied with "I just do," and left it at that.

Sanji came home from the office later than usual, hanging up his suit jacket in the closet as soon as he entered the house. He assumed Zoro would be in bed already, seeing as it was eleven at night. Walking straight through the living room, Sanji noticed the couch appearing slightly wider than it normally was. He grimaced when he saw Zoro passed out drunk on his back, shoes kicked off and pants lazily unbuckled. His hair was sweated out and ruffled until the curly locks were nothing but matted strands of fluff. The mosshead's skin was red, nothing strange if he had drunk steadily. The damn idiot, getting wasted on a Wednesday. He chose to let the other suffer the consequences of being late for work and hungover as he headed for the stairs, when he stepped on something hard. Confused, Sanji held up his foot and fiercely glared at the gold accessory. It was his stepbrother's watch that he never took off, something about it holding sentimental value. Sanji and his stepbrother never saw eye-to-eye as children, what with Vergo being a good six years older than him. No family bond was ever made growing up with him, so why the hell would Vergo's most prized possession being doing in his living room? Unless he came over for a visit, which Sanji doubted if he didn't have a good enough reason to. The fact that it was here instead of on 26th West Blue Street was enough to give Sanji an idea of why it was there

Anger quickly clouded his mind as he kicked the mossball off of the couch, watching him collide face first with the beige carpet. Zoro groaned in pain and surprise, sitting up properly to glower at his lover. "What the fuck was that for?" he asked flatly.

"What did you do while I was gone today, Zoro? Did you watch a few movies, call some friends, possibly hang out with my fucking ass of a brother? Any of these ring a bell?"

"What? No, I just drank some sake and slept. It's been the perfect day off for me."

"So you slept all day? Tell me there were no visitors here all day; I fucking dare you. I dare you to say it when I have unmistakable evidence in my goddamn hand. There's no use in lying, and there's no use in saying it, but I want to hear it from your mouth, Zoro. Was he or was he not here?" Sanji demanded, gold watch dangling from his fingers as if it were the foulest thing ever. Zoro had gone silent, eye contact not likely to happen any time soon. Sanji's face screamed every negative emotion there was, all of them coated with a dark shade of unhealthy red. To put it simply, the blonde fumed in the angriest way he could muster without getting physical. Zoro still refused to speak let alone glance at Sanji, finding the cushions of the couch more important.

"...He was here," Zoro stated guiltily.

"Anything else you want to fucking share?"

"...He was here and he left. Plain as simple."

"Fuck the bullshit," Sanji growled primarily, jiggling the clock, "He wouldn't take off his watch to just come here then fucking leave. Why won't you tell me that he fucked him already?"

Zoro's eyes widened in shock. He was struck speechless. Why did Sanji jump straight to that conclusion? The blonde was more trusting and observant than that. What changed to make him have this attitude?

"Well? Are you gonna fucking deny it again?"

"I-I didn't fuck Vergo. He came and left!"

"Yeah, I bet you fucking whore."

"What did you fucking call me?"

"You heard me loud and clear you Shitty bastard! Like I'm gonna believe some half-assed lie like that. Like I haven't noticed the state you come home in most times. Wow, how fucking low did you think my IQ was? How long did you think you could go about pretending that whatever you did the night before didn't happen and that I wouldn't actually find out? Up until now I've only assumed from obvious evidence you fucking leave, but now I've got hardcore proof. You fucking suck at lying, Zoro, and 'He came and left' wouldn't even fool a newborn. I hate you from the bottom of my soul; that so-called spark is gone and it has been for a while. You ungrateful cheating son of a bitch!"

It was then that the furniture fight started. Zoro truly could not lie to save a life, and Sanji had a sixth sense when it came to sniffing out liars. Why else would someone take off jewelry? If Vergo wasn't washing dishes or fucking that watch could stay on. Not to mention it's damn near impossible to forget something you wear every hour on the hour that you treat more valuable than banks treat their vaults at your wretched brother's house.

"I don't know about that, Nami-swan," Sanji felt his voice shake as warm tears streamed down his cheeks. "Don't put so much faith in him."