One Piece Fan Fiction ❯ The Pirate In The Doll ❯ Part Three ( Chapter 3 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Manga-Chick 
Rating T+
Anime/Manga: One Piece Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Horror / Supernatural | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 11.27.2007 | Pages: 6 | Words: 7.9K | Visits: 246 | Status: Work In Progress
Rating T+
Anime/Manga: One Piece Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Horror / Supernatural | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 11.27.2007 | Pages: 6 | Words: 7.9K | Visits: 246 | Status: Work In Progress
Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece
Warning: Horror, slash, AU
A/N: ARGH! TRIZZLE! I LUV YOU! XD (flying tackle glomp) Hopefully this chapter will continue to bother you and answer a wee bit of your questions!
The Pirate In The Doll:
Part Three
For the entire day, Sanji moved in a daze. The unsettling events of last night were tortuous. With his mind state, he wasn’t sure whether or not what had happened had actually happened. Waking up the moment Zoro pounded upon his door, Sanji had been startled and relieved to wake up from the nightmare. But at the same time, he questioned himself on whether it was a nightmare. He felt nothing on his body–the bed was still in its somewhat tidy state...while he didn’t find evidence of sex or violence on his body, he kept second-guessing himself. The incident had been vivid. He’d seen, felt, smelled–how could it have not left behind proof? How could...? Did it truly happen? It couldn’t have if there wasn’t proof.
But he’d felt such ripping pain, such searing strength and violence; the smells themselves had been unmistakable! One could not ignore the smells of rot, of the doll–!
Because his mind was in such disarray, he kept making mistakes. As a result, the head chef finally had him leave for the rest of the day without pay. At this point, Sanji was grateful for the break because with the chaos in his mind, he knew he needed time away to think. At the same time, he couldn’t afford it. He needed to make money for rent, for purchases.
Still moving about in a daze, Sanji wandered away from the restaurant, intending on finding a quick day labor job that would hopefully give him the money he needed to make it through another day.
-
“Here it is! West Main Curio!”
Zoro squinted at the hand painted sign, the window display showing oddities that he’d never have the urge to investigate or buy. How Sanji was convinced in buying some satanic looking doll from a place like this made him question the blond’s judgement and sanity. Maybe he should just let Sanji deal with his little imaginative adventures with the grotesque thing and think nothing more of his bitching. It would save Zoro a lot of trouble, but then again...he found himself more curious about the doll and its background once he reached the place of purchase.
Beside him, Ussop and Luffy, co-workers of his, surveyed the window display with their cheerful chatter and overexcited exclamations. Luffy had somehow managed to drag Zoro’s destination out of him when the younger man realized that Zoro wasn’t headed directly home. And despite himself, Zoro couldn’t shake the two; he knew he’d have never found the place on his own. He was a little disgusted that the shop was just two blocks away from the apartment building where he lived. At the same time, interested because Sanji had mentioned that he’d passed it on his way back home from work. There was also the market place the blond frequented whenever he went out for food, and just knowing more tidbits of Sanji’s day-to-day activities made Zoro feel as if...he were digging too much.
Ussop bent at the waist, hands on his knees to stare at a set of paste jewelry and fossilized leaves. “Ugh. Looks like my grandma’s attic. Say, did I ever tell you guys this story of how my grandma stored these little containers of Russian dolls that–”
“No. Shut up,” Zoro said crankily, not wanting to listen to another outlandish tale.
“No! What? What happened?” Luffy asked over him, squinting at a male mannequin dressed in Viking attire.
Thankful someone was interested, Ussop ran a hand through his curly hair, then roughly yanked it into a more tidier ponytail. “This one cold winter’s day, my grandma had just finished making her world famous cornbeef stew–and it truly is famous, because they now sell it as a brand name down there in St. Louis, and I heard the patent was pending over in Michigan–when she heard a knock on her door, and then when she opened it, there were the little dolls. Sitting on her porch, waiting to be let in.”
Ussop shivered. “I don’t know what happened to them, but she sold them off. Hey, maybe they wound up here!”
Zoro tried not to look too exasperated in the rambling tale. So he focused intently on the window display, crossing his arms and trying to ignore them both.
“Oh my god! Look at that! A real chupa–chupacabra!” Luffy exclaimed, pointing at a display of a stuff and mounted animal. He then frowned, squinting, as if doing so would tell him more of the creature. “What is a chupacabra?”
“Wow Luffy! I would have never knew how to say that!” Ussop exclaimed, making Zoro roll his eyes.
Zoro then strode into the store, the other two hurrying along behind him. He stopped short before he could trip over fake vines that crisscrossed the floor, assaulted by the incense, the smell of old and musty things. Luffy dashed off to his right while Ussop struggled to stay close by, giving frightened looks at the mannequins wearing various type of Tribal costumes and welding ancient weapons.
A portly old man waddled out from the back, his face lighting up with delight at the sight of his customers. Zoro strode over, distracted for only a second by the sight of a cave woman holding aloft a wooden basket of jars holding preserved fruit. Just above him, hanging from the wooden beams, were various stuffed animals from the tropics.
“Excuse me...you sold a pirate doll the other day?” he started off, seeing the man’s features instantly grow cautious and reserved.
“I’m sorry...I don’t accept returns or exchanges,” the owner said hastily. “Policy.”
“Well, see–I’m not here for that. It’s just...see, the guy that bought it is freaking out,” Zoro said calmly, giving off an air of nonchalance. “I kept telling him it’s just a damn piece of decorative art, but he’s insisting it’s alive. He told me he bought it here, so I was just sort of wondering what the story was behind it.”
The old man hesitated to answer, glancing back at Ussop and Luffy as they dressed themselves in traditional Gypsy garbs. Swallowing tightly, he frowned up in Zoro’s direction. It didn’t seem that the man was here to force a return...nor did he truly look frightened or hysterical in any way.
“Old Gin was passed down from my father’s father’s father,” he began stiffly. “Legend behind it was that he was a vicious pirate. For a man named Don Kreig...do you believe in pirate stories?”
Zoro shrugged a shoulder. “Eh. I believe in violent robberies. But nothing stupid like the supernatural or voodoo or shit like that.”
“Gin was a malicious pirate...followed his captain’s orders to the very word. Some say he was a demon possessed! Murdering, pillaging, causing vicious and malicious torment to his victims only because he enjoyed it so.” The old man shuddered, making Zoro roll his eyes. He cleared his throat and spoke normally. “Er, anyway, the story behind Gin was that after he’d taken his last victim, a child of wee age, he was captured and tortured. Through the dark magic of Haitian witchcraft, he was bound to the child’s toy...to which, after his spirit was imprisoned, took on his features as time passed. Now, anyone in possession of the toy often reported particular hauntings...shadows in the night...whispering...mischief...while he was imprisoned, Gin could do no harm. The necklace that bound him prevented it. But once the necklace was removed, he grew malevolent. Destructive. Murderous.”
Zoro frowned. His expression told the owner that he didn’t believe any of it. Seeing this, the owner shrugged.
“But that’s just a story. He’s been in storage for all these years. I think my family made up those tales out of boredom. I take it you’ve seen it?”
“Yeah...freakiest thing I ever did see.”
“Any scary tale will do when accompanied with something as hideous as that thing was.” The owner shuddered. “I don’t believe in the supernatural...and I don’t believe in evil spirits. But despite myself, I believe that some of those tales were true. I didn’t dare remove that necklace. Call me crazy, but I truly believed that if I did, ole Gin would start causing a murderous ruckus here.”
“Whatever,” Zoro muttered as Luffy popped in between them, wearing a woman’s wig and dress.
“Pirates were cool!” he exclaimed, having heard only part of the tale. “If I lived way back then, I would have wanted to be one!”
“I heard pirates were homosexual,” Ussop whispered, eyes round. “Months at sea...with only men around them...wenches far in between uncharted seas...they had to use each other, helpless to deny their sexual urges...”
“Wow, Ussop. Talking about men being with other men really seems to make that nose of yours stiffen,” Zoro said brightly, then gave the younger man an annoyed expression.
Luffy snorted, looking at Ussop, whose face turned bright red. “That’s an old wives’ tale, Ussop. But you’re right! They were at sea for long periods of time! There was never women with them! They had to have sex somehow! You can’t hate them for what nature demands of them!”
The owner cleared his throat loudly. Zoro pushed Luffy in the direction where they’d found the gypsy clothes, and both men scurried over to remove what they’d put on.
“Yeah, thanks. Oh, by the way...if the necklace is removed, I mean, in theory only, how can you get the guy back into the toy?” Zoro asked.
The owner shrugged, looking truly puzzled. “I’ve never heard a solution. I’ve heard the questions...but never a solution. You’ll have to ask the witch that cast the spell, but that was...over a century ago. Perhaps you can’t put Gin back into his cage once he’s let out.”
“So...if he’s out...”
“It’s not as if you believe in that, right?” the owner asked, twinkle in his eye. “It’s just a scary story to keep the kids in line. If the young man is truly afraid of the doll, perhaps he shouldn’t’ve have bought it.”
“...Right. Well, thanks for your time.”
-
By the time he got home, stopping for a pint at the pub with the two young men, Zoro had forgotten the tale of the ‘murderous’ Gin and was now bothered with how he was going to handle Sanji. For Zoro felt uncertainty about his character and his actions; he didn’t want Sanji to get the wrong idea about what it was they had, no matter how gung-ho Zoro had been earlier.
Still, the thought of the blond finding someone else really twisted at Zoro. He didn’t want to think that way, but he’d heard what he’d heard. There was no mistaking the sounds of sex, and just thinking about it made his stomach ache.
He was surprised to see Sanji sitting outside his door, still wearing his work uniform. Zoro fiddled with his apartment key. Sanji rose from the floor, giving him a guarded expression as he watched Zoro try to shove the wrong end of the key into the lock. Once Zoro realized what he was doing, he scowled and turned the key over, taking a few seconds to catch the lock.
“What are you doing?” he then asked, rather crankily. How dare Sanji catch him off guard? It was almost as if the blond was reading his mind in some way, and this made Zoro ultra-cautious.
“I just got home,” Sanji said with a sniff, walking in behind him and giving Zoro’s apartment a studious look. “Uh, look, marimo, about this morning...”
“Urgh, don’t talk about things I didn’t even ask about,” Zoro said hastily, kicking off his boots, feeling his face heat slightly with the topic.
“I don’t care if you didn’t ask about it!” Sanji snapped. “I’m just saying, y’know, you really had me worried about your unused little brain. I just wanna set the story straight, that there was nothing going on that you were hearing.”
“I heard what I heard. Everybody did!” Zoro pointed out. His face flushed. “Who knew you were a screamer?”
Sanji’s face burned bright red, and Zoro felt entirely foolish for letting a sliver of his insecurities show.
“Uh, ah, aw, well–shit. Maybe I was just having a really–really good dream,” Sanji shot back. He then smirked. “Are you just jealous that you couldn’t, in all this time, make me scream? Hah.”
“Oh, fuck off, idiot cook. You and your stupid words, said to flatter yourself. God. You’re so–self-absorbed!”
“‘Self-absorbed’? ! How am I self-absorbed?!”
“In any event, the point of this visit being?” Zoro said on a huff, removing a couple of layers of upper torso wear–working up so high, where the wind was strong enough to blow a man off a steel beam, it got a little cold.
“Uh...well...I’m just saying...what you thought you heard, you didn’t,” Sanji muttered. “I mean...nothing happened. Not even remotely what you think.”
“And you think I care why?”
“You came up into my home like it was your business! Nosey marimo, you think you have to investigate every little thing I do?”
“Again with the self flattery!” Zoro exclaimed, turning around. “Geez! I don’t care what you do! Why should I care?!”
“I don’t know! Just–don’t!”
“Fine! Next time I won’t! But keep your shitty ass business to yourself!”
“Next time you hear something you’re not supposed to, don’t listen!”
“Erk–! You’re so–! Argh!”
Sanji scoffed at him, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked over at the clock. Every minute that passed was every moment that he dreaded going back to his apartment. He licked his lips. He could actually start to feel his insides quiver at the thought of going back to his home.
Desperate to pass some time, and to somehow come out with what he was actually trying to build himself up to do, he said on an exhale, “I still can’t find that doll.”
Zoro folded up his shirts. He scoffed as he tossed them gently in the direction of his closet. “Now you admit it’s a stupid doll.”
“I looked everywhere. It’s like...it got up and walked away. Stupid as that sounds.”
Zoro thought of the owner’s words. “Maybe it did. I’m telling you. It was released.”
“...Shitty idiot. You believe that stuff?”
“You do!”
“I didn’t say that I did! I said nothing in that I believed in it! Stupid witchcraft voodoo bullshit–!”
“Haitian witchcraft voodoo bullshit,” Zoro said, then froze.
Sanji frowned at him. “I said nothing about it being Haitian related.”
“Well...uh...that’s...I always hear the guys talking about it at work.”
“You mean, while you’re up there, looking eighty stories down, big strong idiots are actually talking about Haitian voodoo witchcraft?”
“Oh for God’s sake–!”
“Blasphemy against witch craft.”
“For fuck’s sake–!”
“That’s better.”
Zoro heaved a heavy exhale. He rubbed at his temple. He was actually breaking out into a sweat over his flustered and careless words. It was odd how Sanji was able to do that to him. Infuriating thing was that it never seemed to affect Sanji in the same way. Zoro just couldn’t tell what Sanji felt about him at all. “You give me such a headache, sometimes.”
Sanji started to smile when a loud thud against the wall caused them both to start. Zoro flicked a glance towards Sanji’s apartment, already dismissing it as a sound directed somewhere not within the area, but somewhere else. He had no reason to suspect that the sound came from there. He looked over to say something when he realized that Sanji’s face had paled considerably.
Brow furrowing, Zoro studied this then smirked. “The boogey doll wants you back home, Sanji. Have you changed its diaper yet? Or, better yet, is Gin causing a ‘malicious’ destruction in your apartment? Ha! That’s why it’s always so fucked up in there!”
Sanji stared at him for a few moments, and Zoro felt himself scowl. All it took was a simple look to make him feel dumb. Sanji always had a way of doing that.
“I didn’t say anything about the thing’s name,” Sanji said slowly, visible eye locked tightly on him. “How did you know–?”
“You told me that day! You said this was Gin, the murderous Haitian pirate–”
“I did not. I’d forgotten the name until now!”
“You did too! You did too, I remember!”
The wall rumbled with noise. Both of them startled again, and Zoro had to hesitate. It really sounded as if somebody were throwing heavy furniture around. Scraping it deliberately against the walls. But that was ridiculous. After a moment of silence, three ominous thumps made the entire apartment ring. To Zoro, it was as if someone were hitting the wall in anger. It was something he’d done himself a few times, so it was a distinguishable sound.
He rolled his head over to Sanji. With a slow grin, he said, “Let’s see who’s there. Maybe your boyfriend’s pissed because you’re here with me.”
“Only you would feel so flattered by the thought, that someone would think of you as competition,” Sanji said with a scoff, turning and walking bravely out of the door.
Zoro scowled.
But he stomped out after the other, grumbling low underneath his breath as Sanji paused outside his door to make sure that Zoro was really there with him. He had the door unlocked and opened by the time Zoro caught up to him, and as soon as he walked in, he stopped short.
Zoro barged in after him, and had to stop himself from slamming into Sanji. Instantly, he was aware of how heavy the air was. How it simmered with anger. Violence. The light from the hall illuminated the catastrophic mess that covered the floor, kitchen. The bookshelf had been shattered into small pieces. Cookbooks were torn and slashed. The record player lay in halves. The radio lay in various pieces throughout the room. Pots, dishes, utensils–everything had been mangled and broken. Clothes were scattered throughout the entire area. The paper divider lay mangled inside the sink. The plants had been shredded, pots broken. Dirt had been scattered everywhere.
Zoro felt as if he were being watched. He felt his skin crawl with the ugly sensation of not even knowing who was watching him.
He gave a shudder.
“Ick,” he muttered.
“...Did you just say ‘ick’?”
“No! I mean...damn. Your place is fucked up.” Zoro kicked aside the heavy skillet, wincing as he belatedly remembered that he’d taken off his boots. He awkwardly brought his foot up, hopping on the other as pain bloomed “Bitch.”
Sanji hesitated for a moment, then looked at him. “I can’t sleep here,” he said. “It’d take all night to clean up.”
Zoro straightened. He saw that this was so. He wondered how long it would take Sanji to clean it up by himself, then realized that if he helped, Sanji would be using him for every little thing afterward. Zoro wasn’t sure about having that sort of commitment.
Then he frowned. Why did his skin tingle so strongly, as if he were being flayed by eyes alone? It was a very distinct and very unforgettable sensation. The apartment felt as if it were in arctic temps. He could actually see his breath as he exhaled.
He realized that Sanji was looking at him pointedly. “What?”
Sanji scowled, and Zoro realized that he’d missed something. He scrunched up his face. He didn’t hear Sanji say anything other than that he couldn’t sleep in his own bed. Which meant–
“Oh.” His eyes widened. He tried not to show that he was happy about it. There was something immediately cozy about having Sanji spend the night with him, but at the same time...Zoro had to be careful about it. Because then Sanji might get the wrong idea.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah...whatever. For a night, I guess.”
Sanji scowled. “I’ll cook for you. The usual. Don’t tell me you’d rather–”
“I said ‘okay!’”
In that same instant, Sanji smiled at him. Zoro was disarmed immediately, and he knew it showed. But Sanji had already turned and began gathering what was salvageable from the kitchen to take to Zoro’s.
Zoro’s skin crawled once more. He couldn’t help but feel as if there were somebody watching him from the shadows. Shuddering, he couldn’t resist the impulse to reach up and rub his arms, wondering why it was so damn cold. By the time Sanji was ready to leave, Zoro was starting to think that maybe the owner of the curio shop was lying when it came to the doll.
-
Zoro knew he was a hard sleeper. It wasn’t the first time he’d fallen asleep next to Sanji, and he often hoped it wouldn’t be the last. But tonight was different.
When he awoke, he took the necessary time he needed to get his mind in working order. He let himself adjust to the darkness, and for the fact that he had hours to go before he was supposed to get up and get ready for the day. He let himself adjust to having the knowledge that Sanji was sleeping next to him–in a way. The blond had somehow fallen to the floor during their sleep, and was snoring lightly against the mattress while Zoro dominated his own bed.
Listening to the other breathe, Zoro smacked his lips and focused on the darkness of his ceiling. The apartment was freezing. The floor was settling noisily, with customary creaks and moans that had never been suspicious or out of place. The building was old, the walls were thin, and people moved around all the time. He sat up, stretching his arms upward and hearing his spine pop with the action.
Relaxing, Zoro slumped his shoulders and then had to wonder why he woke up in the first place. His skin had broken out in chilled reaction; his muscles felt incredibly tense. He felt as if...there was somebody else in the room besides himself and Sanji. He looked over at the blond, then around his bare bones apartment. Shadows caused by outside light from the open window told him enough. There was the sound of a baby screaming its head off somewhere down the hall.
A man was coughing violently.
Zoro frowned, and rubbed at his eyes. Crankily, he leaned over on one elbow to look down at the blond, and found it somewhat endearing to see the other sleep in that position. His hair completely covered his face, and his fingers of his right hand were curled underneath his chin. Zoro sat up quickly and refused to feel any more feeling in the other, because it made his stomach feel weird and fluttery. Zoro didn’t like to feel weak for anything.
Then he stilled–something was out of place. He strained his ears, trying to listen through the sound of the man’s coughing and the crying baby. He heard Sanji’s breathing–that was distinguishable. But he heard something else as well–the sound of another, breathing harshly. The sound of a man struggling with control. It made the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
“What the fuck...?” he whispered to himself, eyebrows furrowing as he searched the darkness for the location of the man.
The sharp rasp of inhalation, followed by a shaky exhalation was enough to have his tanned skin break out in goosebumps. Not one to just sit there and examine his thoughts and feelings over what made him fear simple noises, Zoro rose from the bed. He stepped over Sanji and began to prowl his own apartment, listening to the breathing noises. He gave up when the sound continued without any distinguishable volume; no matter where he went, the sound was the same. Almost as if there was a man standing behind him, breathing heavily down his neck.
Zoro swatted at his shoulders upon an icy touch, and then turned to examine the darkness. Frowning, Zoro listened to the sound for a few moments, then began the slow walk around his apartment once more. He opened the front door and peered out–everyone’s doors were locked and shut tight. Out here, the baby’s crying was louder, the man’s coughing was more distinct. Somewhere on this floor, some kid cried for their mother.
The usual nighttime noises, he assumed, and shut the door. He then opened it again, as if trying to surprise anybody that he’d missed that was sneaking around him. The hall was still empty and noisy, and there was no one around. He started to shut the door when he noticed odd markings on it–opening it wide so that the light of the hall could illuminate his findings, Zoro furrowed his brow upon the scratches on paint and wood. He reached out and touched them, ‘hmm-ing’ to himself as he wondered if they had always been there.
He then shrugged and shut the door softly, so not to disturb the sleeping blond. He glanced over, then forced himself to follow through with locking the door. It felt alien to him; foreign. Just as he accomplished that task, something out of the corner of his eye shifted, and he lifted his head quickly. There was nothing there. Zoro had to question himself on that one, because he swore he’d seen somebody there.
Sanji snorted in his sleep and shifted around. Zoro exhaled slowly, watching his own breath. Muttering low to himself, he rubbed his arms and made his way back to the bed. Clumsily, he tossed one of his blankets over the other man and wrapped the other tightly around himself. He then closed his eyes and went back to sleep.
-
Zoro’s eyes shot open in what felt like minutes later. His breath was caught in his throat. Having no idea what it was that him woke up, he sat up with a start, eyes quickly adjusting to the moon illuminated darkness. He could still hear that breathing–feeling absolutely irritated that he had no idea where it was coming from, Zoro twisted to visually examine his apartment once more. But this time, he stilled, eyes widening with expression. He’d fallen asleep with Sanji right beside his mattress–but the blond man was now all the way across the room, snoring against his own unused kitchen counter. The blanket that Zoro had dropped on him an hour earlier was tossed at the foot of the bed.
For a moment Zoro stared at the telltale form of the blond. He wondered how Sanji had moved all the way over there, and why in the hell Sanji felt more comfortable lying there than he would next to Zoro. The green-haired iron-worker decided to shrug it off, muttering to himself and figuring that perhaps his snoring had driven the other man to find some sort of solace across the room. But then it bothered him–it was freezing in the apartment, and the other had to be cold...
Knowing that it would bother him while he tried to sleep, Zoro gnashed his teeth and kicked off his blanket, climbing out of bed. He stumbled slightly when the blanket caught his foot, and as he turned to kick it away, something moved out of the corner of his eye once more. Zoro lifted his head quickly, seeing nothing.
Grumbling that the late hour was playing tricks on him, he continued moving toward Sanji when he had to stop short, face shifting into that of surprise. He could have sworn Sanji was outside of the kitchen, laying against the counter; but now the blond was curled up on the kitchen floor, still snoring away.
Zoro wasn’t sure what gave him the chills as he processed this. But as he reached up to scratch his head, he had to tell himself that it was only because of interrupted sleep that he wasn’t thinking clearly. Quickly, before any more distractions could bother him, Zoro hurried over to the blond and shook his shoulder.
Sanji continued to snore, and Zoro grew frustrated. It was late, he was tired, and he didn’t want to wake up in the morning sluggish and mentally clouded. He needed all his wits and concentration about him to be walking those narrow steel beams. He crouched and grunted as he pulled Sanji into his arms, muttering about fat-ass cooks. Sanji snorted and bucked lightly, but fell limp and continued snoring as Zoro quickly made his way back to his bed. He deposited the other not too gently on the bed, finally waking the other up.
“You were sleep walking,” Zoro muttered as he climbed in after him. “Lay still before I knock you out.”
“Marimo...” Sanji growled before giving up and rolling onto his side. Not even moments later, he was snoring lightly again.
Zoro pulled the blankets up around them, settled uncomfortably onto his back, and forced himself to go back to sleep.
-
This time when he woke, Zoro’s entire body jerked. He registered himself swatting the air a couple of times before catching himself. His throat was tight and every nerve was ringing for defense. Blinking rapidly, Zoro wondered what the hell he’d been dreaming to wake up feeling so defensive. The darkness was irritating, telling him it wasn’t even close to morning quite yet. Grumbling, Zoro turned his head to place the restlessness on the blond when he realized that Sanji wasn’t there.
He sat up with a start, realizing he was lacking blankets. There, across the room, Sanji was once more sleeping against the kitchen counter. But he had both blankets around him–bewildered, Zoro stared for a few moments, then growled as he rose from the mattress and stomped over. With how still and silent his apartment was, it was as if his feet were creating more of a noise than they should, and he faltered in his stomping.
Growing disgusted with himself, he reached down and yanked at the blankets that was tightly wrapped around Sanji, forcefully disentangling the blond from them and waking him up at the same time.
“What are you doing?!” Zoro growled as Sanji looked around himself in confusion, bumping his head against the counter as he struggled to stand. “What is your problem?”
“What–?! What–? How–? What?”
Zoro mimicked him as he stomped back to his bed. “You keep moving over there! If you wanna sleep over there, then, fine! But don’t take all the blankets! It’s shitty-ass cold in here!”
“I didn’t–! Why would I want to sleep–! I’m in a kitchen all fucking day, why the hell would I want to be sleeping in one all night?!” Sanji protested crankily, following after the other.
“Fuck if I know! Shit! Keep this blanket, and if you move over there again, I’m leaving you there.”
“Fine–!”
Both of them resettled with their respective blankets, huffing and glaring at the darkness. Zoro was a little startled in that he couldn’t hear that odd breathing anymore. If possible, the room felt empty. He bumped against Sanji as he rolled onto his side, facing the wall. The night was just a little too weird for him.
-
‘Zoro’.
The iron-worker shifted restlessly, then snorted. Someone was shaking his shoulder and saying his name, and Zoro was growing fiercely irritated. He purposely snored louder and refused to acknowledge the shaking of his shoulder.
‘Zoro...what the fuck. Mine.’
Zoro’s mind, sluggish as it was with the lack of proper sleep, registered these words. They didn’t make sense. What also didn’t make any sense was that this voice wasn’t familiar to him. As he searched his memory for the face that belonged to this voice, he received a hard physical jolt that knocked him face first into the wall. Flailing, kicking the blanket off of him, Zoro resolved to pound this man’s face into the floor once he got his hands on him.
Clamoring off the mattress on the floor, Zoro searched the apartment for the offender and found nobody. Forcing himself back into a controlled stance, Zoro grit his teeth and scanned the darkness for telltale shadows of someone fucking around with him.
‘Zoro...mine.’
He whirled around, hearing the distinct whisper. But he saw nothing. Sanji wasn’t in the bed with him–in fact, the blond wasn’t anywhere in sight. Puzzled, Zoro relaxed out of his fighting stance and once more scanned the shadows. With pressing footsteps, Zoro walked over to the kitchen and looked on the floor. Extremely puzzled, knowing that he didn’t hear the other wake up and leave and at the same time feeling insulted that Sanji would, Zoro turned to eye the front door, scratching the back of his head.
Then he stilled. Sanji hadn’t left–he was still lying on the bed, sound asleep.
Zoro gaped at him. In all his flailing earlier, he should have hit the other man. But he didn’t. And how Sanji could sleep with all this talking, baby crying and coughing and weirdness was completely beyond Zoro.
‘ZORO!’
Zoro whirled, jolted by the harsh shout that made his ears ring.
‘MINE!’
Zoro winced, automatically reaching up to touch his ears, bewilderment and distress hitting him as the unsightly man continued to scream at him for things he wasn’t even sure of.
‘FUCK! MINE! NOT ZORO!’
Zoro finally rushed at the darker shadows of the apartment, searching haphazardly for the man that was driving him crazy. He searched the closet, the only place that a person could truly hide within his apartment, but once again...he found nothing.
That breathing had returned. Only it was more harsher, louder–as if the man had been running a short distance. Zoro whirled around, almost losing his balance. Then he glared over at Sanji, who slept through it all. How could the man sleep through this racket?
Zoro resolved to wake Sanji up to make him look for the man when something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He whipped around, watching the man do the same thing. He tensed, prepared to attack when he realized that the other man had done the exact same movement. For a moment Zoro stared–the darkness obscured most features, but he could clearly see himself standing there; shoulders rigid, arms tensed, hands curled into fists...He could see the darkness of his trousers, the lighter material of his shirt. Even his hair glinted green in the faint light.
Zoro slowly straightened, watching the other do the same thing. Every hair on his body was standing straight up at this moment. The apartment was intensely silent. Even Sanji himself had stopped snoring. It was almost as if Zoro were entirely alone.
But Zoro didn’t take his eyes away from the man that followed his every movement. Even as he felt physically and mentally jolted. Slowly, he lifted a hand in a careless wave. The man did the same thing. Zoro lifted his other arm above his head, and watched mimicking movement. Turning his face from side to side told Zoro that the other was doing the same thing.
For a moment, Zoro stood there in silence. Then he dropped his arm, turned around, and went back to bed. After he settled underneath a blanket, he stared up at the darkness of his ceiling.
He didn’t have a mirror in his apartment.
-
He woke up to the distinct sounds of Sanji moaning. His stomach curled with heat as his eyes snapped open at the same time. His back was turned, but he could feel the other man shifting atop of the mattress, the rustling sounds of material slithering over the very noticeable sounds of a man in ecstasy. At first Zoro felt incredibly pissed and insulted because how dare Sanji play around with himself in such a manner, with Zoro right there? As if Zoro wasn’t good enough to turn to for pleasure.
Then he felt guilty, as if he were hearing things he wasn’t supposed to. But how was Zoro to block them out when Sanji was right behind him? He grit his teeth, feeling anger once more. It made his stomach turn to hear Sanji whimper and moan like that, his moving legs brushing against Zoro and the mattress jolting with motion. Zoro wasn’t a stranger to Sanji’s sex sounds, but this was entirely different. There was an entirely different tone and sound to the way Sanji panted and groaned.
But the more Zoro listened, the more he realized that there wasn’t the telltale rasp of masturbation. Or even the slick sounds of penetration. Puzzled, Zoro strained his ears to hear any of these actions, and heard nothing. He wanted to turn around to see what it was that made Sanji do that, but...he felt restrained. As if he lacked the strength to do that simple action.
Zoro frowned. He wanted to get his body to twist to see what Sanji was doing but then–he grimaced. Just listening to Sanji had just given him a hard-on.
Growling low in his throat, he thought, Of all the damn things to happen right now.
Because he didn’t want to feel aroused. He didn’t want to get sexually excited listening to Sanji behave in this wanton manner, because it did NOT involve Zoro. And this was really insulting right now. Zoro grit his teeth and cursed at his traitorous body. It was almost as if his damn penis had ears and a mind of its own; definitely interested in what was going on behind him.
Somehow, Zoro managed to shift, twisting his head to look over at the other man, but the moment he saw Sanji’s pleasure twisted face, it felt as if someone had just knocked a two by four into his jaw. There was a definite smack of flesh upon flesh and Zoro was not conscious for anything else.
-
When Zoro woke up for the final time, his sleep-heavy eyes registered the bright lights and sounds of morning. He remembered everything that had happened last night–and once he remembered what had happened to him physically, he sat up with a jolt, hand automatically going up to his face to examine what injury he’d been given. He felt nothing on his face–no swelling, no abnormality. His head wasn’t even ringing with a headache, nor did he feel sore or even hurt in any sense.
Extremely puzzled, feeling weighed down, Zoro had to question himself on everything he’d experienced. Did it really happen? But it had to have–he was intensely sluggish and tired. That only happened if he had a bad night’s sleep, but everything else–!
He looked over at Sanji, finding the blond sleeping peacefully on his side, facing him. Zoro glared at him, pushing away the blanket that covered him. Then he lifted Sanji’s, subtly searching for telltale semen stains on his bed and on Sanji’s trousers. He saw and felt nothing. Risking it all, Zoro lifted Sanji’s shirt to search for marks, and at the same time, pulled down his trousers and underwear to search his pubic area for cum stains.
Jolted awake by Zoro’s actions, Sanji gave him an outraged noise, pulling up his pants and underwear and kicking the iron-worker in the upper torso, sending his own body off the mattress and onto the floor.
“What the fuck?!” he cried, feeling his entire body flush as Zoro rubbed at his chest. “What are you doing?! Just ask, asshole!”
“No–! You’re the asshole!” Zoro snarled, flailing to get Sanji’s blanket off of him. Both of them stood, flushed and furious at the other. “What the fuck are you doing, getting your rocks off in MY bed, thinking it’s OKAY–I’m sleeping right there! I mean, what the fuck?! You feel so fucking horny you gotta do shit to yourself without even asking me if I want to–?! That’s just–!”
Sanji’s face, ears and exposed throat turned a peculiar shade of red and purple that didn’t even seem healthy at all. And Zoro turned the same way, because it sounded to him as if he were a whiny, pride-damaged lovesick fool. He didn’t mean it that way–it was just the point of the situation that drove him to say such things.
“I....I don’t remember...I...couldn’t have,” Sanji stammered, looking at the floor. It was okay, because Zoro was looking at his own feet, feeling exceedingly clumsy and moronic for his outburst. “I mean...I don’t...”
“So it wasn’t even–that memorable, huh? I mean...you don’t even...”
“NO. I mean...I...shit. Shit, this is awkward. I–I’m sorry. I don’t–look, I’ll clean up–”
“There’s nothing there!” Zoro snapped, then flushed, feeling guilty for knowing.
Sanji wanted to look at him, but he felt too embarrassed over the very thought of Zoro hearing and seeing what he didn’t even remember. All he could think of was that graphic dream the other night, where he’d been so horny and desperate, and it’d turned all into violence and pain–
He swiped at his hair. “Ugh...it’s just...been...a crazy week. I’m...going to...go back to my place. Uh...thanks. For...letting me stay. Uh...I slept really good here.”
Zoro scowled. But he shrugged. “At least one of us did.”
“Look–! I’m sorry! You’re not the only one embarrassed, right now–!”
“Why would I be embarrassed over what you do?”
“Because you obviously think it’s a big deal! Any other man would have just let it go, or–or even tried to get into the action!” Sanji exclaimed, voice breaking in mortification. “But you didn’t! You just sucked it up and listened, doing nothing!”
Zoro’s head shot up. He glared. “Are you suggesting I’m...of eunuch tendencies?”
Sanji gave him a disgusted look. “For fuck’s sake...”
“No. You’re trying to blame me for the lack of response to–!”
“Argh! NO! Idiot! Shitty piece of shit idiot! Thank you for letting me stay!” Sanji then snapped, stomping over to the front door while Zoro followed closely after. He paused at the door as Sanji made his way to his apartment.
“Fine!” he then shouted, loud enough for everyone who was still around to hear. “I guess you’re just waaaay to horny for me to handle, then!”
“Impotent moron! Quit blaming your insecurities and lack of manly responsibility on my obviously over-exuberant manliness! You can’t get it up when I need you to, then don’t take your inadequacies out on me!”
Zoro shook his own door as Sanji slammed his, the hall ringing with their shouts and noises. Finally, Zoro slammed his door, breathing heavily. He reached up and gripped his hair, wondering why Sanji always had to have the last word.
Warning: Horror, slash, AU
A/N: ARGH! TRIZZLE! I LUV YOU! XD (flying tackle glomp) Hopefully this chapter will continue to bother you and answer a wee bit of your questions!
The Pirate In The Doll:
Part Three
For the entire day, Sanji moved in a daze. The unsettling events of last night were tortuous. With his mind state, he wasn’t sure whether or not what had happened had actually happened. Waking up the moment Zoro pounded upon his door, Sanji had been startled and relieved to wake up from the nightmare. But at the same time, he questioned himself on whether it was a nightmare. He felt nothing on his body–the bed was still in its somewhat tidy state...while he didn’t find evidence of sex or violence on his body, he kept second-guessing himself. The incident had been vivid. He’d seen, felt, smelled–how could it have not left behind proof? How could...? Did it truly happen? It couldn’t have if there wasn’t proof.
But he’d felt such ripping pain, such searing strength and violence; the smells themselves had been unmistakable! One could not ignore the smells of rot, of the doll–!
Because his mind was in such disarray, he kept making mistakes. As a result, the head chef finally had him leave for the rest of the day without pay. At this point, Sanji was grateful for the break because with the chaos in his mind, he knew he needed time away to think. At the same time, he couldn’t afford it. He needed to make money for rent, for purchases.
Still moving about in a daze, Sanji wandered away from the restaurant, intending on finding a quick day labor job that would hopefully give him the money he needed to make it through another day.
-
“Here it is! West Main Curio!”
Zoro squinted at the hand painted sign, the window display showing oddities that he’d never have the urge to investigate or buy. How Sanji was convinced in buying some satanic looking doll from a place like this made him question the blond’s judgement and sanity. Maybe he should just let Sanji deal with his little imaginative adventures with the grotesque thing and think nothing more of his bitching. It would save Zoro a lot of trouble, but then again...he found himself more curious about the doll and its background once he reached the place of purchase.
Beside him, Ussop and Luffy, co-workers of his, surveyed the window display with their cheerful chatter and overexcited exclamations. Luffy had somehow managed to drag Zoro’s destination out of him when the younger man realized that Zoro wasn’t headed directly home. And despite himself, Zoro couldn’t shake the two; he knew he’d have never found the place on his own. He was a little disgusted that the shop was just two blocks away from the apartment building where he lived. At the same time, interested because Sanji had mentioned that he’d passed it on his way back home from work. There was also the market place the blond frequented whenever he went out for food, and just knowing more tidbits of Sanji’s day-to-day activities made Zoro feel as if...he were digging too much.
Ussop bent at the waist, hands on his knees to stare at a set of paste jewelry and fossilized leaves. “Ugh. Looks like my grandma’s attic. Say, did I ever tell you guys this story of how my grandma stored these little containers of Russian dolls that–”
“No. Shut up,” Zoro said crankily, not wanting to listen to another outlandish tale.
“No! What? What happened?” Luffy asked over him, squinting at a male mannequin dressed in Viking attire.
Thankful someone was interested, Ussop ran a hand through his curly hair, then roughly yanked it into a more tidier ponytail. “This one cold winter’s day, my grandma had just finished making her world famous cornbeef stew–and it truly is famous, because they now sell it as a brand name down there in St. Louis, and I heard the patent was pending over in Michigan–when she heard a knock on her door, and then when she opened it, there were the little dolls. Sitting on her porch, waiting to be let in.”
Ussop shivered. “I don’t know what happened to them, but she sold them off. Hey, maybe they wound up here!”
Zoro tried not to look too exasperated in the rambling tale. So he focused intently on the window display, crossing his arms and trying to ignore them both.
“Oh my god! Look at that! A real chupa–chupacabra!” Luffy exclaimed, pointing at a display of a stuff and mounted animal. He then frowned, squinting, as if doing so would tell him more of the creature. “What is a chupacabra?”
“Wow Luffy! I would have never knew how to say that!” Ussop exclaimed, making Zoro roll his eyes.
Zoro then strode into the store, the other two hurrying along behind him. He stopped short before he could trip over fake vines that crisscrossed the floor, assaulted by the incense, the smell of old and musty things. Luffy dashed off to his right while Ussop struggled to stay close by, giving frightened looks at the mannequins wearing various type of Tribal costumes and welding ancient weapons.
A portly old man waddled out from the back, his face lighting up with delight at the sight of his customers. Zoro strode over, distracted for only a second by the sight of a cave woman holding aloft a wooden basket of jars holding preserved fruit. Just above him, hanging from the wooden beams, were various stuffed animals from the tropics.
“Excuse me...you sold a pirate doll the other day?” he started off, seeing the man’s features instantly grow cautious and reserved.
“I’m sorry...I don’t accept returns or exchanges,” the owner said hastily. “Policy.”
“Well, see–I’m not here for that. It’s just...see, the guy that bought it is freaking out,” Zoro said calmly, giving off an air of nonchalance. “I kept telling him it’s just a damn piece of decorative art, but he’s insisting it’s alive. He told me he bought it here, so I was just sort of wondering what the story was behind it.”
The old man hesitated to answer, glancing back at Ussop and Luffy as they dressed themselves in traditional Gypsy garbs. Swallowing tightly, he frowned up in Zoro’s direction. It didn’t seem that the man was here to force a return...nor did he truly look frightened or hysterical in any way.
“Old Gin was passed down from my father’s father’s father,” he began stiffly. “Legend behind it was that he was a vicious pirate. For a man named Don Kreig...do you believe in pirate stories?”
Zoro shrugged a shoulder. “Eh. I believe in violent robberies. But nothing stupid like the supernatural or voodoo or shit like that.”
“Gin was a malicious pirate...followed his captain’s orders to the very word. Some say he was a demon possessed! Murdering, pillaging, causing vicious and malicious torment to his victims only because he enjoyed it so.” The old man shuddered, making Zoro roll his eyes. He cleared his throat and spoke normally. “Er, anyway, the story behind Gin was that after he’d taken his last victim, a child of wee age, he was captured and tortured. Through the dark magic of Haitian witchcraft, he was bound to the child’s toy...to which, after his spirit was imprisoned, took on his features as time passed. Now, anyone in possession of the toy often reported particular hauntings...shadows in the night...whispering...mischief...while he was imprisoned, Gin could do no harm. The necklace that bound him prevented it. But once the necklace was removed, he grew malevolent. Destructive. Murderous.”
Zoro frowned. His expression told the owner that he didn’t believe any of it. Seeing this, the owner shrugged.
“But that’s just a story. He’s been in storage for all these years. I think my family made up those tales out of boredom. I take it you’ve seen it?”
“Yeah...freakiest thing I ever did see.”
“Any scary tale will do when accompanied with something as hideous as that thing was.” The owner shuddered. “I don’t believe in the supernatural...and I don’t believe in evil spirits. But despite myself, I believe that some of those tales were true. I didn’t dare remove that necklace. Call me crazy, but I truly believed that if I did, ole Gin would start causing a murderous ruckus here.”
“Whatever,” Zoro muttered as Luffy popped in between them, wearing a woman’s wig and dress.
“Pirates were cool!” he exclaimed, having heard only part of the tale. “If I lived way back then, I would have wanted to be one!”
“I heard pirates were homosexual,” Ussop whispered, eyes round. “Months at sea...with only men around them...wenches far in between uncharted seas...they had to use each other, helpless to deny their sexual urges...”
“Wow, Ussop. Talking about men being with other men really seems to make that nose of yours stiffen,” Zoro said brightly, then gave the younger man an annoyed expression.
Luffy snorted, looking at Ussop, whose face turned bright red. “That’s an old wives’ tale, Ussop. But you’re right! They were at sea for long periods of time! There was never women with them! They had to have sex somehow! You can’t hate them for what nature demands of them!”
The owner cleared his throat loudly. Zoro pushed Luffy in the direction where they’d found the gypsy clothes, and both men scurried over to remove what they’d put on.
“Yeah, thanks. Oh, by the way...if the necklace is removed, I mean, in theory only, how can you get the guy back into the toy?” Zoro asked.
The owner shrugged, looking truly puzzled. “I’ve never heard a solution. I’ve heard the questions...but never a solution. You’ll have to ask the witch that cast the spell, but that was...over a century ago. Perhaps you can’t put Gin back into his cage once he’s let out.”
“So...if he’s out...”
“It’s not as if you believe in that, right?” the owner asked, twinkle in his eye. “It’s just a scary story to keep the kids in line. If the young man is truly afraid of the doll, perhaps he shouldn’t’ve have bought it.”
“...Right. Well, thanks for your time.”
-
By the time he got home, stopping for a pint at the pub with the two young men, Zoro had forgotten the tale of the ‘murderous’ Gin and was now bothered with how he was going to handle Sanji. For Zoro felt uncertainty about his character and his actions; he didn’t want Sanji to get the wrong idea about what it was they had, no matter how gung-ho Zoro had been earlier.
Still, the thought of the blond finding someone else really twisted at Zoro. He didn’t want to think that way, but he’d heard what he’d heard. There was no mistaking the sounds of sex, and just thinking about it made his stomach ache.
He was surprised to see Sanji sitting outside his door, still wearing his work uniform. Zoro fiddled with his apartment key. Sanji rose from the floor, giving him a guarded expression as he watched Zoro try to shove the wrong end of the key into the lock. Once Zoro realized what he was doing, he scowled and turned the key over, taking a few seconds to catch the lock.
“What are you doing?” he then asked, rather crankily. How dare Sanji catch him off guard? It was almost as if the blond was reading his mind in some way, and this made Zoro ultra-cautious.
“I just got home,” Sanji said with a sniff, walking in behind him and giving Zoro’s apartment a studious look. “Uh, look, marimo, about this morning...”
“Urgh, don’t talk about things I didn’t even ask about,” Zoro said hastily, kicking off his boots, feeling his face heat slightly with the topic.
“I don’t care if you didn’t ask about it!” Sanji snapped. “I’m just saying, y’know, you really had me worried about your unused little brain. I just wanna set the story straight, that there was nothing going on that you were hearing.”
“I heard what I heard. Everybody did!” Zoro pointed out. His face flushed. “Who knew you were a screamer?”
Sanji’s face burned bright red, and Zoro felt entirely foolish for letting a sliver of his insecurities show.
“Uh, ah, aw, well–shit. Maybe I was just having a really–really good dream,” Sanji shot back. He then smirked. “Are you just jealous that you couldn’t, in all this time, make me scream? Hah.”
“Oh, fuck off, idiot cook. You and your stupid words, said to flatter yourself. God. You’re so–self-absorbed!”
“‘Self-absorbed’? ! How am I self-absorbed?!”
“In any event, the point of this visit being?” Zoro said on a huff, removing a couple of layers of upper torso wear–working up so high, where the wind was strong enough to blow a man off a steel beam, it got a little cold.
“Uh...well...I’m just saying...what you thought you heard, you didn’t,” Sanji muttered. “I mean...nothing happened. Not even remotely what you think.”
“And you think I care why?”
“You came up into my home like it was your business! Nosey marimo, you think you have to investigate every little thing I do?”
“Again with the self flattery!” Zoro exclaimed, turning around. “Geez! I don’t care what you do! Why should I care?!”
“I don’t know! Just–don’t!”
“Fine! Next time I won’t! But keep your shitty ass business to yourself!”
“Next time you hear something you’re not supposed to, don’t listen!”
“Erk–! You’re so–! Argh!”
Sanji scoffed at him, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked over at the clock. Every minute that passed was every moment that he dreaded going back to his apartment. He licked his lips. He could actually start to feel his insides quiver at the thought of going back to his home.
Desperate to pass some time, and to somehow come out with what he was actually trying to build himself up to do, he said on an exhale, “I still can’t find that doll.”
Zoro folded up his shirts. He scoffed as he tossed them gently in the direction of his closet. “Now you admit it’s a stupid doll.”
“I looked everywhere. It’s like...it got up and walked away. Stupid as that sounds.”
Zoro thought of the owner’s words. “Maybe it did. I’m telling you. It was released.”
“...Shitty idiot. You believe that stuff?”
“You do!”
“I didn’t say that I did! I said nothing in that I believed in it! Stupid witchcraft voodoo bullshit–!”
“Haitian witchcraft voodoo bullshit,” Zoro said, then froze.
Sanji frowned at him. “I said nothing about it being Haitian related.”
“Well...uh...that’s...I always hear the guys talking about it at work.”
“You mean, while you’re up there, looking eighty stories down, big strong idiots are actually talking about Haitian voodoo witchcraft?”
“Oh for God’s sake–!”
“Blasphemy against witch craft.”
“For fuck’s sake–!”
“That’s better.”
Zoro heaved a heavy exhale. He rubbed at his temple. He was actually breaking out into a sweat over his flustered and careless words. It was odd how Sanji was able to do that to him. Infuriating thing was that it never seemed to affect Sanji in the same way. Zoro just couldn’t tell what Sanji felt about him at all. “You give me such a headache, sometimes.”
Sanji started to smile when a loud thud against the wall caused them both to start. Zoro flicked a glance towards Sanji’s apartment, already dismissing it as a sound directed somewhere not within the area, but somewhere else. He had no reason to suspect that the sound came from there. He looked over to say something when he realized that Sanji’s face had paled considerably.
Brow furrowing, Zoro studied this then smirked. “The boogey doll wants you back home, Sanji. Have you changed its diaper yet? Or, better yet, is Gin causing a ‘malicious’ destruction in your apartment? Ha! That’s why it’s always so fucked up in there!”
Sanji stared at him for a few moments, and Zoro felt himself scowl. All it took was a simple look to make him feel dumb. Sanji always had a way of doing that.
“I didn’t say anything about the thing’s name,” Sanji said slowly, visible eye locked tightly on him. “How did you know–?”
“You told me that day! You said this was Gin, the murderous Haitian pirate–”
“I did not. I’d forgotten the name until now!”
“You did too! You did too, I remember!”
The wall rumbled with noise. Both of them startled again, and Zoro had to hesitate. It really sounded as if somebody were throwing heavy furniture around. Scraping it deliberately against the walls. But that was ridiculous. After a moment of silence, three ominous thumps made the entire apartment ring. To Zoro, it was as if someone were hitting the wall in anger. It was something he’d done himself a few times, so it was a distinguishable sound.
He rolled his head over to Sanji. With a slow grin, he said, “Let’s see who’s there. Maybe your boyfriend’s pissed because you’re here with me.”
“Only you would feel so flattered by the thought, that someone would think of you as competition,” Sanji said with a scoff, turning and walking bravely out of the door.
Zoro scowled.
But he stomped out after the other, grumbling low underneath his breath as Sanji paused outside his door to make sure that Zoro was really there with him. He had the door unlocked and opened by the time Zoro caught up to him, and as soon as he walked in, he stopped short.
Zoro barged in after him, and had to stop himself from slamming into Sanji. Instantly, he was aware of how heavy the air was. How it simmered with anger. Violence. The light from the hall illuminated the catastrophic mess that covered the floor, kitchen. The bookshelf had been shattered into small pieces. Cookbooks were torn and slashed. The record player lay in halves. The radio lay in various pieces throughout the room. Pots, dishes, utensils–everything had been mangled and broken. Clothes were scattered throughout the entire area. The paper divider lay mangled inside the sink. The plants had been shredded, pots broken. Dirt had been scattered everywhere.
Zoro felt as if he were being watched. He felt his skin crawl with the ugly sensation of not even knowing who was watching him.
He gave a shudder.
“Ick,” he muttered.
“...Did you just say ‘ick’?”
“No! I mean...damn. Your place is fucked up.” Zoro kicked aside the heavy skillet, wincing as he belatedly remembered that he’d taken off his boots. He awkwardly brought his foot up, hopping on the other as pain bloomed “Bitch.”
Sanji hesitated for a moment, then looked at him. “I can’t sleep here,” he said. “It’d take all night to clean up.”
Zoro straightened. He saw that this was so. He wondered how long it would take Sanji to clean it up by himself, then realized that if he helped, Sanji would be using him for every little thing afterward. Zoro wasn’t sure about having that sort of commitment.
Then he frowned. Why did his skin tingle so strongly, as if he were being flayed by eyes alone? It was a very distinct and very unforgettable sensation. The apartment felt as if it were in arctic temps. He could actually see his breath as he exhaled.
He realized that Sanji was looking at him pointedly. “What?”
Sanji scowled, and Zoro realized that he’d missed something. He scrunched up his face. He didn’t hear Sanji say anything other than that he couldn’t sleep in his own bed. Which meant–
“Oh.” His eyes widened. He tried not to show that he was happy about it. There was something immediately cozy about having Sanji spend the night with him, but at the same time...Zoro had to be careful about it. Because then Sanji might get the wrong idea.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah...whatever. For a night, I guess.”
Sanji scowled. “I’ll cook for you. The usual. Don’t tell me you’d rather–”
“I said ‘okay!’”
In that same instant, Sanji smiled at him. Zoro was disarmed immediately, and he knew it showed. But Sanji had already turned and began gathering what was salvageable from the kitchen to take to Zoro’s.
Zoro’s skin crawled once more. He couldn’t help but feel as if there were somebody watching him from the shadows. Shuddering, he couldn’t resist the impulse to reach up and rub his arms, wondering why it was so damn cold. By the time Sanji was ready to leave, Zoro was starting to think that maybe the owner of the curio shop was lying when it came to the doll.
-
Zoro knew he was a hard sleeper. It wasn’t the first time he’d fallen asleep next to Sanji, and he often hoped it wouldn’t be the last. But tonight was different.
When he awoke, he took the necessary time he needed to get his mind in working order. He let himself adjust to the darkness, and for the fact that he had hours to go before he was supposed to get up and get ready for the day. He let himself adjust to having the knowledge that Sanji was sleeping next to him–in a way. The blond had somehow fallen to the floor during their sleep, and was snoring lightly against the mattress while Zoro dominated his own bed.
Listening to the other breathe, Zoro smacked his lips and focused on the darkness of his ceiling. The apartment was freezing. The floor was settling noisily, with customary creaks and moans that had never been suspicious or out of place. The building was old, the walls were thin, and people moved around all the time. He sat up, stretching his arms upward and hearing his spine pop with the action.
Relaxing, Zoro slumped his shoulders and then had to wonder why he woke up in the first place. His skin had broken out in chilled reaction; his muscles felt incredibly tense. He felt as if...there was somebody else in the room besides himself and Sanji. He looked over at the blond, then around his bare bones apartment. Shadows caused by outside light from the open window told him enough. There was the sound of a baby screaming its head off somewhere down the hall.
A man was coughing violently.
Zoro frowned, and rubbed at his eyes. Crankily, he leaned over on one elbow to look down at the blond, and found it somewhat endearing to see the other sleep in that position. His hair completely covered his face, and his fingers of his right hand were curled underneath his chin. Zoro sat up quickly and refused to feel any more feeling in the other, because it made his stomach feel weird and fluttery. Zoro didn’t like to feel weak for anything.
Then he stilled–something was out of place. He strained his ears, trying to listen through the sound of the man’s coughing and the crying baby. He heard Sanji’s breathing–that was distinguishable. But he heard something else as well–the sound of another, breathing harshly. The sound of a man struggling with control. It made the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
“What the fuck...?” he whispered to himself, eyebrows furrowing as he searched the darkness for the location of the man.
The sharp rasp of inhalation, followed by a shaky exhalation was enough to have his tanned skin break out in goosebumps. Not one to just sit there and examine his thoughts and feelings over what made him fear simple noises, Zoro rose from the bed. He stepped over Sanji and began to prowl his own apartment, listening to the breathing noises. He gave up when the sound continued without any distinguishable volume; no matter where he went, the sound was the same. Almost as if there was a man standing behind him, breathing heavily down his neck.
Zoro swatted at his shoulders upon an icy touch, and then turned to examine the darkness. Frowning, Zoro listened to the sound for a few moments, then began the slow walk around his apartment once more. He opened the front door and peered out–everyone’s doors were locked and shut tight. Out here, the baby’s crying was louder, the man’s coughing was more distinct. Somewhere on this floor, some kid cried for their mother.
The usual nighttime noises, he assumed, and shut the door. He then opened it again, as if trying to surprise anybody that he’d missed that was sneaking around him. The hall was still empty and noisy, and there was no one around. He started to shut the door when he noticed odd markings on it–opening it wide so that the light of the hall could illuminate his findings, Zoro furrowed his brow upon the scratches on paint and wood. He reached out and touched them, ‘hmm-ing’ to himself as he wondered if they had always been there.
He then shrugged and shut the door softly, so not to disturb the sleeping blond. He glanced over, then forced himself to follow through with locking the door. It felt alien to him; foreign. Just as he accomplished that task, something out of the corner of his eye shifted, and he lifted his head quickly. There was nothing there. Zoro had to question himself on that one, because he swore he’d seen somebody there.
Sanji snorted in his sleep and shifted around. Zoro exhaled slowly, watching his own breath. Muttering low to himself, he rubbed his arms and made his way back to the bed. Clumsily, he tossed one of his blankets over the other man and wrapped the other tightly around himself. He then closed his eyes and went back to sleep.
-
Zoro’s eyes shot open in what felt like minutes later. His breath was caught in his throat. Having no idea what it was that him woke up, he sat up with a start, eyes quickly adjusting to the moon illuminated darkness. He could still hear that breathing–feeling absolutely irritated that he had no idea where it was coming from, Zoro twisted to visually examine his apartment once more. But this time, he stilled, eyes widening with expression. He’d fallen asleep with Sanji right beside his mattress–but the blond man was now all the way across the room, snoring against his own unused kitchen counter. The blanket that Zoro had dropped on him an hour earlier was tossed at the foot of the bed.
For a moment Zoro stared at the telltale form of the blond. He wondered how Sanji had moved all the way over there, and why in the hell Sanji felt more comfortable lying there than he would next to Zoro. The green-haired iron-worker decided to shrug it off, muttering to himself and figuring that perhaps his snoring had driven the other man to find some sort of solace across the room. But then it bothered him–it was freezing in the apartment, and the other had to be cold...
Knowing that it would bother him while he tried to sleep, Zoro gnashed his teeth and kicked off his blanket, climbing out of bed. He stumbled slightly when the blanket caught his foot, and as he turned to kick it away, something moved out of the corner of his eye once more. Zoro lifted his head quickly, seeing nothing.
Grumbling that the late hour was playing tricks on him, he continued moving toward Sanji when he had to stop short, face shifting into that of surprise. He could have sworn Sanji was outside of the kitchen, laying against the counter; but now the blond was curled up on the kitchen floor, still snoring away.
Zoro wasn’t sure what gave him the chills as he processed this. But as he reached up to scratch his head, he had to tell himself that it was only because of interrupted sleep that he wasn’t thinking clearly. Quickly, before any more distractions could bother him, Zoro hurried over to the blond and shook his shoulder.
Sanji continued to snore, and Zoro grew frustrated. It was late, he was tired, and he didn’t want to wake up in the morning sluggish and mentally clouded. He needed all his wits and concentration about him to be walking those narrow steel beams. He crouched and grunted as he pulled Sanji into his arms, muttering about fat-ass cooks. Sanji snorted and bucked lightly, but fell limp and continued snoring as Zoro quickly made his way back to his bed. He deposited the other not too gently on the bed, finally waking the other up.
“You were sleep walking,” Zoro muttered as he climbed in after him. “Lay still before I knock you out.”
“Marimo...” Sanji growled before giving up and rolling onto his side. Not even moments later, he was snoring lightly again.
Zoro pulled the blankets up around them, settled uncomfortably onto his back, and forced himself to go back to sleep.
-
This time when he woke, Zoro’s entire body jerked. He registered himself swatting the air a couple of times before catching himself. His throat was tight and every nerve was ringing for defense. Blinking rapidly, Zoro wondered what the hell he’d been dreaming to wake up feeling so defensive. The darkness was irritating, telling him it wasn’t even close to morning quite yet. Grumbling, Zoro turned his head to place the restlessness on the blond when he realized that Sanji wasn’t there.
He sat up with a start, realizing he was lacking blankets. There, across the room, Sanji was once more sleeping against the kitchen counter. But he had both blankets around him–bewildered, Zoro stared for a few moments, then growled as he rose from the mattress and stomped over. With how still and silent his apartment was, it was as if his feet were creating more of a noise than they should, and he faltered in his stomping.
Growing disgusted with himself, he reached down and yanked at the blankets that was tightly wrapped around Sanji, forcefully disentangling the blond from them and waking him up at the same time.
“What are you doing?!” Zoro growled as Sanji looked around himself in confusion, bumping his head against the counter as he struggled to stand. “What is your problem?”
“What–?! What–? How–? What?”
Zoro mimicked him as he stomped back to his bed. “You keep moving over there! If you wanna sleep over there, then, fine! But don’t take all the blankets! It’s shitty-ass cold in here!”
“I didn’t–! Why would I want to sleep–! I’m in a kitchen all fucking day, why the hell would I want to be sleeping in one all night?!” Sanji protested crankily, following after the other.
“Fuck if I know! Shit! Keep this blanket, and if you move over there again, I’m leaving you there.”
“Fine–!”
Both of them resettled with their respective blankets, huffing and glaring at the darkness. Zoro was a little startled in that he couldn’t hear that odd breathing anymore. If possible, the room felt empty. He bumped against Sanji as he rolled onto his side, facing the wall. The night was just a little too weird for him.
-
‘Zoro’.
The iron-worker shifted restlessly, then snorted. Someone was shaking his shoulder and saying his name, and Zoro was growing fiercely irritated. He purposely snored louder and refused to acknowledge the shaking of his shoulder.
‘Zoro...what the fuck. Mine.’
Zoro’s mind, sluggish as it was with the lack of proper sleep, registered these words. They didn’t make sense. What also didn’t make any sense was that this voice wasn’t familiar to him. As he searched his memory for the face that belonged to this voice, he received a hard physical jolt that knocked him face first into the wall. Flailing, kicking the blanket off of him, Zoro resolved to pound this man’s face into the floor once he got his hands on him.
Clamoring off the mattress on the floor, Zoro searched the apartment for the offender and found nobody. Forcing himself back into a controlled stance, Zoro grit his teeth and scanned the darkness for telltale shadows of someone fucking around with him.
‘Zoro...mine.’
He whirled around, hearing the distinct whisper. But he saw nothing. Sanji wasn’t in the bed with him–in fact, the blond wasn’t anywhere in sight. Puzzled, Zoro relaxed out of his fighting stance and once more scanned the shadows. With pressing footsteps, Zoro walked over to the kitchen and looked on the floor. Extremely puzzled, knowing that he didn’t hear the other wake up and leave and at the same time feeling insulted that Sanji would, Zoro turned to eye the front door, scratching the back of his head.
Then he stilled. Sanji hadn’t left–he was still lying on the bed, sound asleep.
Zoro gaped at him. In all his flailing earlier, he should have hit the other man. But he didn’t. And how Sanji could sleep with all this talking, baby crying and coughing and weirdness was completely beyond Zoro.
‘ZORO!’
Zoro whirled, jolted by the harsh shout that made his ears ring.
‘MINE!’
Zoro winced, automatically reaching up to touch his ears, bewilderment and distress hitting him as the unsightly man continued to scream at him for things he wasn’t even sure of.
‘FUCK! MINE! NOT ZORO!’
Zoro finally rushed at the darker shadows of the apartment, searching haphazardly for the man that was driving him crazy. He searched the closet, the only place that a person could truly hide within his apartment, but once again...he found nothing.
That breathing had returned. Only it was more harsher, louder–as if the man had been running a short distance. Zoro whirled around, almost losing his balance. Then he glared over at Sanji, who slept through it all. How could the man sleep through this racket?
Zoro resolved to wake Sanji up to make him look for the man when something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He whipped around, watching the man do the same thing. He tensed, prepared to attack when he realized that the other man had done the exact same movement. For a moment Zoro stared–the darkness obscured most features, but he could clearly see himself standing there; shoulders rigid, arms tensed, hands curled into fists...He could see the darkness of his trousers, the lighter material of his shirt. Even his hair glinted green in the faint light.
Zoro slowly straightened, watching the other do the same thing. Every hair on his body was standing straight up at this moment. The apartment was intensely silent. Even Sanji himself had stopped snoring. It was almost as if Zoro were entirely alone.
But Zoro didn’t take his eyes away from the man that followed his every movement. Even as he felt physically and mentally jolted. Slowly, he lifted a hand in a careless wave. The man did the same thing. Zoro lifted his other arm above his head, and watched mimicking movement. Turning his face from side to side told Zoro that the other was doing the same thing.
For a moment, Zoro stood there in silence. Then he dropped his arm, turned around, and went back to bed. After he settled underneath a blanket, he stared up at the darkness of his ceiling.
He didn’t have a mirror in his apartment.
-
He woke up to the distinct sounds of Sanji moaning. His stomach curled with heat as his eyes snapped open at the same time. His back was turned, but he could feel the other man shifting atop of the mattress, the rustling sounds of material slithering over the very noticeable sounds of a man in ecstasy. At first Zoro felt incredibly pissed and insulted because how dare Sanji play around with himself in such a manner, with Zoro right there? As if Zoro wasn’t good enough to turn to for pleasure.
Then he felt guilty, as if he were hearing things he wasn’t supposed to. But how was Zoro to block them out when Sanji was right behind him? He grit his teeth, feeling anger once more. It made his stomach turn to hear Sanji whimper and moan like that, his moving legs brushing against Zoro and the mattress jolting with motion. Zoro wasn’t a stranger to Sanji’s sex sounds, but this was entirely different. There was an entirely different tone and sound to the way Sanji panted and groaned.
But the more Zoro listened, the more he realized that there wasn’t the telltale rasp of masturbation. Or even the slick sounds of penetration. Puzzled, Zoro strained his ears to hear any of these actions, and heard nothing. He wanted to turn around to see what it was that made Sanji do that, but...he felt restrained. As if he lacked the strength to do that simple action.
Zoro frowned. He wanted to get his body to twist to see what Sanji was doing but then–he grimaced. Just listening to Sanji had just given him a hard-on.
Growling low in his throat, he thought, Of all the damn things to happen right now.
Because he didn’t want to feel aroused. He didn’t want to get sexually excited listening to Sanji behave in this wanton manner, because it did NOT involve Zoro. And this was really insulting right now. Zoro grit his teeth and cursed at his traitorous body. It was almost as if his damn penis had ears and a mind of its own; definitely interested in what was going on behind him.
Somehow, Zoro managed to shift, twisting his head to look over at the other man, but the moment he saw Sanji’s pleasure twisted face, it felt as if someone had just knocked a two by four into his jaw. There was a definite smack of flesh upon flesh and Zoro was not conscious for anything else.
-
When Zoro woke up for the final time, his sleep-heavy eyes registered the bright lights and sounds of morning. He remembered everything that had happened last night–and once he remembered what had happened to him physically, he sat up with a jolt, hand automatically going up to his face to examine what injury he’d been given. He felt nothing on his face–no swelling, no abnormality. His head wasn’t even ringing with a headache, nor did he feel sore or even hurt in any sense.
Extremely puzzled, feeling weighed down, Zoro had to question himself on everything he’d experienced. Did it really happen? But it had to have–he was intensely sluggish and tired. That only happened if he had a bad night’s sleep, but everything else–!
He looked over at Sanji, finding the blond sleeping peacefully on his side, facing him. Zoro glared at him, pushing away the blanket that covered him. Then he lifted Sanji’s, subtly searching for telltale semen stains on his bed and on Sanji’s trousers. He saw and felt nothing. Risking it all, Zoro lifted Sanji’s shirt to search for marks, and at the same time, pulled down his trousers and underwear to search his pubic area for cum stains.
Jolted awake by Zoro’s actions, Sanji gave him an outraged noise, pulling up his pants and underwear and kicking the iron-worker in the upper torso, sending his own body off the mattress and onto the floor.
“What the fuck?!” he cried, feeling his entire body flush as Zoro rubbed at his chest. “What are you doing?! Just ask, asshole!”
“No–! You’re the asshole!” Zoro snarled, flailing to get Sanji’s blanket off of him. Both of them stood, flushed and furious at the other. “What the fuck are you doing, getting your rocks off in MY bed, thinking it’s OKAY–I’m sleeping right there! I mean, what the fuck?! You feel so fucking horny you gotta do shit to yourself without even asking me if I want to–?! That’s just–!”
Sanji’s face, ears and exposed throat turned a peculiar shade of red and purple that didn’t even seem healthy at all. And Zoro turned the same way, because it sounded to him as if he were a whiny, pride-damaged lovesick fool. He didn’t mean it that way–it was just the point of the situation that drove him to say such things.
“I....I don’t remember...I...couldn’t have,” Sanji stammered, looking at the floor. It was okay, because Zoro was looking at his own feet, feeling exceedingly clumsy and moronic for his outburst. “I mean...I don’t...”
“So it wasn’t even–that memorable, huh? I mean...you don’t even...”
“NO. I mean...I...shit. Shit, this is awkward. I–I’m sorry. I don’t–look, I’ll clean up–”
“There’s nothing there!” Zoro snapped, then flushed, feeling guilty for knowing.
Sanji wanted to look at him, but he felt too embarrassed over the very thought of Zoro hearing and seeing what he didn’t even remember. All he could think of was that graphic dream the other night, where he’d been so horny and desperate, and it’d turned all into violence and pain–
He swiped at his hair. “Ugh...it’s just...been...a crazy week. I’m...going to...go back to my place. Uh...thanks. For...letting me stay. Uh...I slept really good here.”
Zoro scowled. But he shrugged. “At least one of us did.”
“Look–! I’m sorry! You’re not the only one embarrassed, right now–!”
“Why would I be embarrassed over what you do?”
“Because you obviously think it’s a big deal! Any other man would have just let it go, or–or even tried to get into the action!” Sanji exclaimed, voice breaking in mortification. “But you didn’t! You just sucked it up and listened, doing nothing!”
Zoro’s head shot up. He glared. “Are you suggesting I’m...of eunuch tendencies?”
Sanji gave him a disgusted look. “For fuck’s sake...”
“No. You’re trying to blame me for the lack of response to–!”
“Argh! NO! Idiot! Shitty piece of shit idiot! Thank you for letting me stay!” Sanji then snapped, stomping over to the front door while Zoro followed closely after. He paused at the door as Sanji made his way to his apartment.
“Fine!” he then shouted, loud enough for everyone who was still around to hear. “I guess you’re just waaaay to horny for me to handle, then!”
“Impotent moron! Quit blaming your insecurities and lack of manly responsibility on my obviously over-exuberant manliness! You can’t get it up when I need you to, then don’t take your inadequacies out on me!”
Zoro shook his own door as Sanji slammed his, the hall ringing with their shouts and noises. Finally, Zoro slammed his door, breathing heavily. He reached up and gripped his hair, wondering why Sanji always had to have the last word.