moe81 | (no subject)

Title: Bliss

Rating: PG

Pairing: Zoro/Sanji

Warnings: AU, angst.

A/N: Established relationship. Evil lyrics are evil so the blame belongs to Hinder. And of course, pretties from the effulgent Sybile.

Zoro stood at the kitchen counter and poured rum into a waiting glass. He stared into the empty living room and memories stared back at him. He slammed the drink back, grimacing at the burn in his throat. Pale light filtered through the window and seemed to surround several of the photographs on the shelves. Both of them were in every one and Zoro figured the world was turning against him.

The papers had been signed and Sanji had finally bought his own restaurant. Usopp had been trying to take a photo out front and Sanji had pulled Zoro in, wrapping his arms around him. Zoro couldn't help but laugh.

His fingers tightened around the bottle and he dragged his gaze away, only to fall onto the picture next to it.

Luffy had been let loose with a camera and was hopping around taking candid shots of everything. The boy couldn't sit still through anything. Robin and Franky had kissed to seal their vows. Zoro had looked sidelong at Sanji and smiled at him. The cook had smiled back and then a flash had blinded them both.

He clenched his teeth and drank from the bottle. The rum hit his empty stomach and it protested the abuse but he ignored it. He drained the bottle and dumped it in the sink where it joined several others. He grabbed a bottle of bourbon from the wine rack - "It's for wine, not cheap unrefined rotgut" - and ran his fingers over several marks in the wood from when Sanji had tried to kick his ass again and missed.

His hands fisted and he grit his teeth. He pulled at the collar of his shirt. It was too confining, he couldn't breathe. He tore one-handed at the material and ripped it, seams parting under his haste to be rid of it. He grunted as he stripped to his boxers and took another mouthful of his drink.

He strode down the hallway to the bathroom and passed the centrepiece of the wall. A photo of them both with their friends, smears of blood on their faces and whoever had taken the picture had interesting timing. If someone looked close enough, it would be possible to see their tongues touching as they kissed.

Chopper had passed his medical exams and the party had turned into something huge. The smile on the kid's face could light up a room. There were some heated comments exchanged about prowess and ability and Zoro and Sanji had launched themselves at each other. It had taken several seconds before they turned it into a sparring and demonstration session. Everyone had cheered, their friends being particularly loud. In the end they'd both come away bruised and bleeding but the feeling of contentment was obvious to those who knew them.

He flicked the light on and flinched from the brightness. The empty bottle was left in the bottom of the bath and he twisted the hot water tap. Steam rose immediately to obscure his image in the mirror above the sink and he stepped under the spray.

Scalding water sluiced over him. The heat didn't register as his skin slowly turned bright red. The pounding of the pulse in his head drowned out the sound of water slapping against the tile. His hands clenched, fingernails digging hard into his palms and crescent moons drew pinpricks of blood. He stared blindly at the shower head, images of pale hands gripping it. He shivered and slammed the water off.

It was their first night in the new apartment and Sanji had insisted on having a shower to wash off the sweat of working. He'd watched Zoro do the heavy lifting and had directed him where to put everything. Zoro insisted on joining him. Skin on skin and explosive heat, the small cubicle was made theirs several times over.

The bedroom was dark and Zoro blindly reached out a hand to the dresser, searching for his clothes. His skin itched where the material touched him and his fingers curled into his jumper. He stared past his shadowed reflection in the mirror to the unmade bed.

Zoro woke and squinted his eyes against the glare from the digital clock. His head pounded in a steady beat and he turned, reaching for Sanji. His hands landed on cold sheets and he eyed the empty bed. He had a vague memory of the cook calling him and telling him he'd be late and not to wait up for him. He hadn't but he knew the blond hadn't returned home.

His fingers caressed the blue pillow case and he caught the faint scent of Sanji. He hunched his shoulders and turned away, grabbing the half-empty bottle of vodka from the side table. He gulped it down, his throat too raw to notice the burn and his stomach trying to reject it. He swallowed it back and drank again. He walked through the silent apartment, his feet trading heavily over the bare floor.

He stared into the kitchen; nothing out of place but for countless booze bottles and an empty space where Sanji's knife block had once been.

"Touch anything in here and I'll kick your ass." The threat was met with a smile and Zoro kissed him.

"Whatever you say, shit-cook."

Zoro face contorted and he threw the bottle in his hands at the window. It crashed against the frame and glass shattered over the sink and floor. Moonlight sparkled off the shards and clear liquid dripped off the bench.

Sanji called him - he didn't even have the balls to see him in person - and said that it would be best if they took a break from each other. He said that he felt stifled and directionless. Zoro wondered what the hell had happened.

It hadn't taken long to find out. A few questions to the right people, a little prodding and poking and Zoro's world had come crashing down. Sanji had moved on. He was living with some redheaded woman that he'd been seeing for months.

He grabbed his white sword from its mantle and slashed through the air. Steel glinted in the low light and photos were swept from the shelves. Glass broke, frames snapped, pictures were trampled and torn under foot as Zoro tore through the enclosed space.

When the last memory was destroyed, he dropped his sword. He collapsed against a wall and slid to the floor. His heart contracted, his throat closed over, he couldn't breathe. He buried his face in his hands and curled in on himself. He hiccupped and lost himself in his misery.

At the first tears, he dropped his hands and let them fall freely, leaving tracks on his cheeks. He stared out the windows of his living room, unseeing. Beneath his hand a torn photograph mocked him and he could have sworn he felt Sanji's smile against his fingertips.