What are you doing?
Feb. 12th, 2007 04:42 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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Title: What are you doing?
Rating: PG-13 for swearing
Word Count: 300
Pairing: Zoro/Sanji
Topic: Crisis
Summary: Zoro plays the overprotective boyfriend. Modern verse.
Zoro paced the length of his apartment like a caged lawyer. He never knew sickness could be so disgusting, as it confined him to his apartment with only soups and broths to keep him company. Even his precious weights had been taken away under penalty of couch sleeping for the rest of the year.
He opened his refrigerator for the eleventh time in 30 minutes, hoping that something new would have magically appeared there during the last 3-minute interval. Damn, still nothing but soup. Soup in bowls. Soup in containers. Soup in pots. Zoro had had enough of this motherfucking soup in his motherfucking fridge. Where was the beef? The rib? The salami?
And what’s more, Zoro thought, is that that shitty chef could be soliciting unwanted attention from slimy people without Zoro to protect him. Better check up on his ass.
“Hello?”
“It’s Zoro. What are you doing?”
“Filing paperwork, dumbass. What else do you think I’d be doing?”
Zoro paused, about to say “getting hit on by some dirty transvestite,” but thinking better of it. “Nothing, fuckwit. Bring back some rib when you come home.” He slammed down the phone without waiting for a response.
Zoro found himself dialing Sanji’s number again.
“Yes?”
“What are you doing?”
“The same thing I was doing thirty minutes ago, now stop calling me if you have nothing important to say.”
“Watch your back for leather wearing males.” Zoro then hung up the phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Stop calling me, shithead.”
“Fine. Just wait until your ass gets mugged on the way home.”
“What are you - ?”
“STOP FUCKING CALLING ME YOU FUCKING IDIOT I’M DOING MY WORK-”
“What-”
“I’m doing a hot secretary - aHHHhh - while getting banged in the ass by my – umf - whip-toting coworkers.”
“WHAT?!”
-
A/N: I heard a conversation between two guys I know. One of them said, "What are you doing?" and the other one replied, "Your mom." Thus this fic was born.
Rating: PG-13 for swearing
Word Count: 300
Pairing: Zoro/Sanji
Topic: Crisis
Summary: Zoro plays the overprotective boyfriend. Modern verse.
Zoro paced the length of his apartment like a caged lawyer. He never knew sickness could be so disgusting, as it confined him to his apartment with only soups and broths to keep him company. Even his precious weights had been taken away under penalty of couch sleeping for the rest of the year.
He opened his refrigerator for the eleventh time in 30 minutes, hoping that something new would have magically appeared there during the last 3-minute interval. Damn, still nothing but soup. Soup in bowls. Soup in containers. Soup in pots. Zoro had had enough of this motherfucking soup in his motherfucking fridge. Where was the beef? The rib? The salami?
And what’s more, Zoro thought, is that that shitty chef could be soliciting unwanted attention from slimy people without Zoro to protect him. Better check up on his ass.
“Hello?”
“It’s Zoro. What are you doing?”
“Filing paperwork, dumbass. What else do you think I’d be doing?”
Zoro paused, about to say “getting hit on by some dirty transvestite,” but thinking better of it. “Nothing, fuckwit. Bring back some rib when you come home.” He slammed down the phone without waiting for a response.
Zoro found himself dialing Sanji’s number again.
“Yes?”
“What are you doing?”
“The same thing I was doing thirty minutes ago, now stop calling me if you have nothing important to say.”
“Watch your back for leather wearing males.” Zoro then hung up the phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Stop calling me, shithead.”
“Fine. Just wait until your ass gets mugged on the way home.”
“What are you - ?”
“STOP FUCKING CALLING ME YOU FUCKING IDIOT I’M DOING MY WORK-”
“What-”
“I’m doing a hot secretary - aHHHhh - while getting banged in the ass by my – umf - whip-toting coworkers.”
“WHAT?!”
-
A/N: I heard a conversation between two guys I know. One of them said, "What are you doing?" and the other one replied, "Your mom." Thus this fic was born.