100Moods -- The Good of Alcohol
Title: The Good of Alcohol
Pairing: one-sided Zoro x Sanji
Rating: PG-13
x-posted to
100moods
He figured it was a bad sign when he’d actually lost count of how many pints he’d had. His vision was getting a little fuzzy, he thought hazily even as more rum filled his mouth, but he could still see the damn love-cook at the table across from him. By now, it seemed the chef had graduated from the point of simply making eyes at the pretty bar girl; they were actually exchanging words now, words Zoro couldn’t hear from where he sat, but he could gauge their meaning by the way her hips swayed and his lips curled.
He ordered more rum. It wasn’t enough. He could still feel the tugs of sharp pain in his chest, undeniably close to his heart. This was why he didn’t like to make a habit of going out to bars with the chef whenever the crew reached port; more often than not, this always happened. Not so much in the beginning when Sanji was nothing more than an annoyance and petty rival, but as time progressed and he became more of a nakama, produced less irritation and more-regrettably-fond feelings, Zoro ended up having to limits the trips to the bar. Even he could admit when he’d been hurt enough.
The bar girl sat in Sanji’s lap. Zoro came dangerously close to choking in his haste to swallow the burning alcohol.
He couldn’t get angry at the other man. Sanji was interested in the softer sex, and he couldn’t possibly notice what the swordsman felt, especially when he offered no unusual advances. It was Zoro’s own weakness, his own fault, to deal with. So he tried to dull it away. He drank pint after pint in that bar, willing it to go away, hoping it would drown out of his system for good. And as he did this, he made himself watch as Sanji flirted shamelessly with his woman for the night. He made himself see what he could never have, so maybe some logical part of him would recognize that feeling the way he felt was completely useless and nothing if not a distraction, an obstruction to his goal.
It wasn’t working.
Sanji and the bar girl stood, his arm linked around her waist, and left the bar, the suggestive and playful bump of their hips against each other as they walked serving as a clear indication of what laid in store for them.
Zoro’s throat went completely numb. But his heart would not.
Pairing: one-sided Zoro x Sanji
Rating: PG-13
x-posted to
100moods
He figured it was a bad sign when he’d actually lost count of how many pints he’d had. His vision was getting a little fuzzy, he thought hazily even as more rum filled his mouth, but he could still see the damn love-cook at the table across from him. By now, it seemed the chef had graduated from the point of simply making eyes at the pretty bar girl; they were actually exchanging words now, words Zoro couldn’t hear from where he sat, but he could gauge their meaning by the way her hips swayed and his lips curled.
He ordered more rum. It wasn’t enough. He could still feel the tugs of sharp pain in his chest, undeniably close to his heart. This was why he didn’t like to make a habit of going out to bars with the chef whenever the crew reached port; more often than not, this always happened. Not so much in the beginning when Sanji was nothing more than an annoyance and petty rival, but as time progressed and he became more of a nakama, produced less irritation and more-regrettably-fond feelings, Zoro ended up having to limits the trips to the bar. Even he could admit when he’d been hurt enough.
The bar girl sat in Sanji’s lap. Zoro came dangerously close to choking in his haste to swallow the burning alcohol.
He couldn’t get angry at the other man. Sanji was interested in the softer sex, and he couldn’t possibly notice what the swordsman felt, especially when he offered no unusual advances. It was Zoro’s own weakness, his own fault, to deal with. So he tried to dull it away. He drank pint after pint in that bar, willing it to go away, hoping it would drown out of his system for good. And as he did this, he made himself watch as Sanji flirted shamelessly with his woman for the night. He made himself see what he could never have, so maybe some logical part of him would recognize that feeling the way he felt was completely useless and nothing if not a distraction, an obstruction to his goal.
It wasn’t working.
Sanji and the bar girl stood, his arm linked around her waist, and left the bar, the suggestive and playful bump of their hips against each other as they walked serving as a clear indication of what laid in store for them.
Zoro’s throat went completely numb. But his heart would not.