Sanji stared at the crossbeams from his position on the floor in the galley. Empty bottles surrounded him, his shoes had been kicked off, and his tie loosened. Snow drifted past the portholes and he heard the occasional whoop of laughter from the deck. No one really bothered him unless it was mealtime, so he had the galley to himself - a good thing, since he was pretty plastered and not fit for company.
Normally, he didn't like drinking to excess, but his crazy conversation with Zoro had necessitated it. Zoro liked him, which wasn't such a big thing because he was extremely likable. But Sanji thought that maybe, possibly he liked Zoro back - and that little revelation deserved vast amounts of alcohol to be consumed.
The world spun just a bit, and things looked fuzzy around the edges. His limbs were warm and heavy. He wasn't word-slurring drunk, but he was in a pleasant state of mind, one that was conducive to thinking about things he really didn't want to examine closely.
"Do I like Zoro?" Sanji's question floated in the air, asked to no one but himself. He flapped a hand as he responded. "Well, of course I do. He's nakama. But that's not what you really mean, do you, Sanji?
"No. It's not. So, do I like Zoro? Like him in a way that involves wine and chocolates and flowers- what the hell am I saying? This is Zoro, not some woman. He doesn't like sweets, wine is wasted on him, and unless I'm going to plant flowers in his hair, they don't apply either. Zoro has stupid hair. He probably cuts it with lawn clippers. And you're getting off course.
"So why am I wasting my time thinking about you, Zoro? Because you said you liked me and maybe I like you back in a way that I shouldn't even be able to fathom because I like women. Little women. Big women. Blondes, brunettes, redheads, blue-haired, pink-haired, and purple-haired women. Skinny women. Curvy women. Big busted women. Mmm, women..."
Sanji unburied himself from the hearts that had fallen around him a few minutes later. It was not to the time to be thinking about women. He was supposed to be thinking about Zoro. Damn.
"Zoro, you bastard, why did you do this to me? I was fine not having to think about things like this. You're a great guy, when you're not being an asshole, but I don't need this headache. I don't need to question why I maybe, sorta don't mind the idea that you want to kiss me. You probably kiss like a brute. You'd probably shove me up against the wall and maul me with your lips and paw at me and not let me breathe... Is it getting hot in here?" Sanji fanned his shirt and moaned in dismay. "And that didn't bother me as much as I thought it would. This sucks. I hate you, you shitty swordsman."
Sanji sighed, and mumbled, "But I guess I like you a little bit, too, if that imaginary kiss was anything to go by. Of course, you might kiss like shit in person and this whole conversation I'm having with myself is a big, fat waste of my time. If so, I'm going to kick your ass up one side of this ship and down the other."
"Talking to yourself, cook?"
Sanji lifted his head at the intruding voice, and saw Zoro. Fuck. "How long have you been there?"
"I just walked in." Zoro crossed the galley to where Sanji had made himself comfortable on the ground. He stopped by Sanji's hips and stared down quizzically at him. "Why are you on the floor?"
"Why not?" Sanji patted his pockets, seeking his cigarettes.
Zoro crouched beside him and picked up one of the empty bottles. "Are you drunk?"
"Yes." Sanji didn't bother lying. It wasn't as if Zoro couldn't tell. Not finding his cigarettes, he looked for his suit jacket. He spied it discarded on the table. "Get my cigarettes."
"Get them yourself." Zoro dropped the bottle on Sanji's stomach. It bounced off harmlessly. "Why are you drunk?"
Sanji gave him a hateful glare, both for the cigarettes and the question. "Why do you think, dumbass?"
Zoro's face scrunched up. He appeared to give it some serious thought before shaking his head. "I don't know. We're out of meat?"
Sanji kicked Zoro in the head, a pretty good trick considering he was plastered, on the floor, and Zoro was next to his hip. Sometimes he amazed himself.
"Oi! Watch it!" Zoro planted a hand on the ground near Sanji's head to keep from falling over. Sanji snickered. Zoro took offense. He snagged Sanji's shirt, yanked him upright, and got in his face. "You want to fight, love-cook?"
Zoro had put himself within kissing distance, and Sanji figured why the hell not? He was drunk and questioning why he might like Zoro, and the answer was glowering within inches of his lips.
"You really are stupid sometimes," Sanji said, and kissed him.
It wasn't shitty. Damn it.
Next time, he'd definitely skip the asparagus.