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The island's name was forgotten somewhere between the fight with the massive subterranean voles that had been terrorizing the townspeople for over a decade and the 8th mug of grog Zoro managed to get his hands on.
It didn't really matter. They made landfall, helped people, and got the fuck on with it. Off to the next adventure. It was a nice life, and although every single day inevitably held some kind of bizarre bullshit, over time even that had become nice and routine.
This place, now that those miserable voles were nothing more than cubes of meat on giant skewers the Idiot Chef had prepared, was fun. The people were out late into the night, the booze was flowing, and the music was loud. Brook was doing a concert somewhere in the middle of town, but Zoro had wandered away from the worst of the noise to find a quiet spot to pop a squat and try to get drunk.
It was working, too.
It was all peace and quiet and Zoro fell into an almost meditative state for awhile: drink, stare up at the stars, think about nothing. More drinking, more staring up at the stars, more thinking about nothing. Again, drink, stare up at the—
—Then his haki twinged just in time for him to throw himself backwards and dodge the kick that had sliced the air where his head had been moments ago.
"Fuckin' Cook," Zoro growled, because he'd spilled on himself.
Sanji hardly seemed to care. The momentum of his kick had made him stumble a little—amateur—and he righted himself with a quiet laugh. He spun on one foot and pointed a haughty finger in Zoro's direction.
Dude was drunk. "Marimo," Sanji said, way too goddamn loudly for the quiet of the otherwise-pleasant evening, "Come with me."
"Why would I do that?" Zoro drained what was left of his mug and uncapped the bottle of sake he'd tied around his waist earlier. "Go away, I was relaxing."
"You were staring at nothing and drinking by yourself. That's sad. C'mon, I found something fun."
Sanji's idea of fun was usually very, very unfun for Zoro. Clothes shopping, face masks, smoking, talking about girls—it just wasn't for him.
"No thanks."
Sanji growled and kicked at him again, but this time Zoro was ready, and Sanji's leg met the flat side of Kitetsu. They held their poses, straining against the other and snarling. Sanji's hair was a wreck, and his cheeks were blotchy red with booze, and his tie was loose and askew. Idiot.
The blond let up first, his foot hitting the ground in something like an impatient stamp. "Marimo," he said, "It's a friendship ceremony thing on the beach. It's hilarious, and they're giving out flowers if you do it, and I want them for the girls' breakfast arrangement tomorrow morning. Get the fuck up."
"Oh," Zoro said.
The second half of that explanation was obnoxious but the first bit—that bit about friendship? That was worth noting.
Sanji occasionally called Zoro his friend. Well, six times in total, actually, and Zoro knew this, because he held each instance embarrassingly close to his heart. And although he'd never quite managed to call the cook his friend in return, at least not anywhere other than his own head, Sanji hardly seemed to notice or mind.
A friendship ceremony, no matter how annoying, sounded kind of awesome, actually.
"Okay," Zoro said, sheathing his swords properly and adjusting them on his hip.
Sanji looked like he had been expecting more of a fight. His eyes narrowed suspiciously but he tilted his head in the right direction, then redirected Zoro once he accidentally moved back towards town.
"This way," Sanji said, his hand occasionally brushing the small of Zoro's back to keep him on track.
The island was a lush summer island with lots of huge, leafy plants. The fucking voles or whatever had been using these ancient trees' roots to build a whole civilization underground but the Strawhats had essentially made them extinct, so who cared about that now? The night was alive with the sounds of merrymaking far and wide, and the hum of loud insects.
Sanji cringed and steered them far away from any buzzing, and Zoro couldn't help but tease him (his friend) about it. He got a nice bruise on the back of his knee for the trouble.
But quickly enough the thick grasses gave way to loose sand. They turned the corner around a large rock formation to find this friendship ceremony the cook was so jazzed about. There was a small stage in the shallows of the water, the tide occasionally cresting over the top. There were dozens of small torches, flickering like fireflies in the darkness, and a small crowd.
Best of all, there was a table of snacks and beside it a table of booze. Even though the drinks were fruity and far more sweet than Zoro would have preferred, they were strong. They both stumbled over to the table and sampled a few (or maybe more than a few).
Something Zoro had said seemed unbearably funny to Sanji, who threw back his head and laughed right up to the night sky. His hair flopped off his pale forehead, eyes scrunched up, spraying spit with the force of his incredulous laughter.
It wasn't a good look, but Zoro found himself staring anyway.
Zoro then found himself smiling back and laughing loudly too. He drank a bright red glass of something gross and covered his face with a hand, smothering the dumbass giggles that kept trying to escape him from Sanji's infectious laugh.
Up on stage were two girls holding hands and facing each other. There were five other people up there, all kicking their feet and waving their arms in some sort of synchronized dance, singing and cheering in delight. The girls looked happy, grinning at each other, and when they left the stage a minute later, a few others covered them in elaborately-made wreaths of flowers. That must be what the cook had his eyes on.
"Oh, we're up," Zoro noticed, and he dragged Sanji by the elbow into the surf. Sanji was sputtering something about his shoes getting wet but Zoro hardly listened. The water was beautiful out there. The soft sounds of waves lapping against the little wooden stage, the crackle of the nearby flames—it was… awfully nice.
Zoro was way too fucking drunk to understand what their hosts were going on about. They fluttered around them, sprinkling the both of them in the petals of some vivid yellow flower that smelled highly perfumed. Beside him, Sanji—his fucking friend!—wiggled in place at the whole display, cheerful and enjoying himself.
"To my best and most hated friend," Sanji said, when the host stared at him and gestured at him to say something. "Marimo, you piece of shit. Thanks for always having my back in a fight, I guess. Uhh, what else do I say? Um, you're not so bad all the time, especially when you shower."
Then Sanji laughed again, lost to thinking his own jokes were the best he'd ever heard.
Then the guy before them gestured at Zoro, and he winced. He didn't like speeches any day of the week, and especially not ones about… the fucking curly-browed cook, of all people.
"Uh," Zoro said, squinting at his feet, arms crossed. "Yeah. The cook's my—friend, yeah. I'd never tell any of the others this but he can be pretty cool, I guess. Whatever."
Sanji mock-swooned, hand over his heart.
"So sweet, Mossball," he cooed.
Honestly, the whole thing kinda felt like a wedding, but like hell Zoro was going to say that out loud. It was weird though, with the total strangers around giving them watery, beaming smiles and continuously throwing flower petals at them.
Then they were told to exchange something meaningful, and both Zoro and Sanji stared at each other for a moment, unsure. Then Zoro shrugged, already kind of over this whole thing, and untied his red sash from around his waist.
"Here, I guess," he said, and tied it several times around Sanji's thin wrist. He tied it tightly, but not enough to hurt, and ignored the look Sanji was giving him, too close. Too blue eyed, too handsome, too something.
Sanji rifled through his pockets for a moment and emerged with his favorite golden lighter. He tossed it into the air which Zoro caught easily.
"Don't drop it, idiot," was all Sanji said.
There were ceremonial friendship shots—fucking sweet!—and whatever it was must have had something special in it because Zoro immediately felt a bit floaty. The torch lights hit the ocean waves in a way that seemed to produce… sound, almost, something achingly sweet and dazzling. He blinked several times but the vision and sounds did not fade.
Someone snapped their fingers in front of Zoro's face and Zoro resurfaced, looking away from the spectacle on the ocean to Sanji's face. The man's pupils were huge and his blond hair was sweaty and stuck to his forehead in unattractive clumps.
Zoro liked Sanji very much, secretly, he thought, as Sanji grabbed his hand and led him unsteadily back through the frothy tide onto the beach. It was easy to pretend to hate the guy in front of the others but if Zoro really hated him he wouldn't give the blond half the amount of attention he did. He was always ready to spar with Sanji, always messing with him, always bothering him—if that wasn't friendship, Zoro didn't know what was.
Sure enough, pretty girls that made Sanji swoon and dab at his nose covered them both in fancy flower wreaths. Zoro immediately took his off and gave it to Sanji. He didn't like the itchiness and scratchiness of them against his neck. Sanji let him do it, lowering his head and stepping close, unsteady on his feet in the loose sand.
He raised his head then, as the thing Zoro put there settled against his chest, and Zoro swore he could hear music in the odd brightness of Sanji's blown-wide eyes. What the fuck had been in that shot glass?
"Do you hear that?" Zoro asked.
Dazed, Sanji breathed, "Hear what? Why is your hair blue, Marimo? Green suits you much more."
"What?"
But Sanji wasn't paying him attention any more, attention grabbed by one of the locals. She gave them something each small and tiny and they went on their way, walking back towards town. Under the moonlight they held the things up.
"Rings," Sanji said. "Friendship rings. What are we, eight?"
"I never had any friendship rings as a kid," Zoro said, weirdly defensive over it.
"Well, me neither, obviously, I was locked—well, it doesn't matter. You'll look cute with some jewelry, Marimo!" Sanji laughed loud and sharp, wiggling the ring onto his ring finger, on the same hand that had Zoro's sash around the wrist. Oh, right. He'd forgotten he'd given Sanji that.
The ring Zoro put on his pinky, the only finger it would fit on, had a small blue stone. Like Sanji's eyes. The little thing played him a delightful symphony as they trekked back to town, Sanji leading the way. Zoro could have sworn they passed the two girls from before on a quiet bench under a flowering tree, practically on each other's laps and kissing, which was, woahhhh—but it was just a flash of a thing. Then they were in town again, and Brook's concert had ended, and Sanji pointed them in the direction of their motel, now clear of vole collateral damage.
Zoro found his bed and was asleep before his head likely even hit the pillow.
The next morning found Zoro in much the same state as ever. It wasn't often he managed to get drunk enough to forget portions of his night, his tolerance was much too strong for that, but it was a nice surprise when it occasionally happened.
He cleaned his shit out of the hotel room after doing a couple hundred inverted push-ups on his hands and made his way down to the first floor to find the rest of the crew.
He found them sure enough, following the sounds of chaos. Actually, Robin found him as he got stuck in some kind of double dead-end alley near the chaos, but it still counted.
"Had a good evening?" she asked him, smiling in that calm way of hers.
Zoro shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Drank a bit. I…" and then he paused, his mouth turning down, frowning. "The cook and I did some dumb ceremonial thing, I think. I remember giving him my sash."
He'd spent twenty minutes upstairs looking for it before giving up and deciding he must have left it on the Sunny, but thinking about his evening now, he vaguely remembered giving it to Sanji. There had been some local custom party or something.
"Oh my," was all Robin said, falling deep into thought.
But then they rejoined the others and made for the ship. Chopper and Nami had made friends on the island and as they said their goodbyes Zoro followed Franky and Brook to the ship. According to Franky he'd explored some of the vole caverns with some ghost-hunting teenagers. Brook, who thought that was much too terrifying, had turned in after his concert ended.
"Where's the cook?" Zoro asked. No one quite seemed to know but it became apparent enough when the ship came into view. Sanji was bent in half over the railing, feeding the fishes.
With a snort, Zoro said, "He can never hold his alcohol. Don't even know why he bothers drinking."
He left Sanji to it, busying himself with untying sails and following Franky's instructions as they readied the Sunny for the next trip. Eventually the whole crew was aboard, minus one lovable captain. Then Zoro heard Luffy's unmistakeable shout of joy and the slap of his sandals as he landed on the deck from the shore.
Then everything was a bustle of activity for a little bit. When it settled, when the Sunny was on course and the sails full of salty air and the log pose pointing onward, Zoro went in search of breakfast.
He wasn't the only one. The galley was full. Zoro took his usual seat at the table just as the Cook started placing plates down at everyone's seats. He looked—kind of incredibly fucking bad, and one glance at his pale face and twisted expression made Zoro laugh loudly.
"Fuck off, Marimo!"
"Sanji," Chopper said nervously, flapping his little arms, "Don't yell, I don't want you to get sick again. Take it easy!"
"Sanji is sick," Luffy said, smiling slyly even as Sanji demonstrated that he wasn't too sick to not fend off his attempts at stealing the girls' food. Their plates had a lovely flower arrangement beside them, the flowers bright and vibrant and smelling good.
Zoro considered them, frowning.
"These are beautiful," Robin said, rubbing her thumb along one.
"Thank you!" That finally put some color back on Sanji's cheeks and he twirled in place before unceremoniously dropping omelets onto Brook and Zoro's plates. "I had to suffer through an embarrassing ritual with the Algae Man here for them, but it was worth it, for you two!"
"Oh, no," Robin said, easily, and then dropped the bomb that made the entire galley go absolutely silent: "That was a wedding."
"...What?" Sanji eventually croaked.
In the most unsubtle move of all time, Sanji held out his hand for the whole table to see. And there was his red sash! Zoro remembered tying it around Sanji's wrist more clearly now. But beyond his wrist, snug on Sanji's finger, was a ring. It looked just like the one he had on his—
"Oh, shit," Zoro said, raising his own hand.
There was a matching ring on his pinky finger.
He hadn't paid it much mind when he woke up, figuring he'd bought it at a shop while wasted or been given it by a local as a gift for taking care of their vole problem.
"Dudes!" Franky boomed. "This is Super! Congratulations!"
Nami still seemed shocked, covering her mouth with her hand, and Usopp said what everyone else was probably thinking: "How dumb do you have to be to accidentally get married?"
The next thing out of his mind was, "Okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"
Sanji's flames crept back down his leg and Zoro resheathed his swords.
"Sanji and Zoro got married!" Luffy stood, then, making all eyes go to him. He looked uncharacteristically serious.
"We need a party," he announced.
Sputtering, Sanji said, "We just had a party!" Then he shook his head. "Wait, I didn't marry the Marimo!"
"Sure you did." Robin calmly put a piece of omelet in her mouth. "Looksees worship their ocean gods; I walked past the site earlier in the evening."
There had been a platform in the water.
"—They celebrate and show gratitude for the bounty of the land the water nourishes—"
There had been lots of flowers and plants and shit, wasn't there?
"—They drink the hallucinogens they brew from the local plants, to expand the mind—"
"The lights on the water were singing to me," Zoro remembered, stunned. Nami looked at him like he'd grown a second head.
"—and there is an exchanging of a small part of the soul." Robin gestured, finally, at Zoro's sash around Sanji's wrist.
In Zoro's pocket was Sanji's lighter. He'd found it after taking a piss early that morning. His plan had been to pretend not to have it, so Sanji got all worked up and irritable, and then conveniently say he found it and exchange it for some of the good booze in the locked cabinets Sanji had the key to.
Wordlessly, he held it out. The little thing glittered in his hand, damning evidence of a wedding they apparently didn't know they'd even had.
"...Oh," Sanji said weakly.
Then Luffy hollered, "We need a party!"
Already sobbing, Franky choked out, "I'll do the decorations," and Usopp immediately offered to help. Thank fuck Jinbe was out on deck or he'd say something overly emotional, too.
Nami was deep in her breakfast, eating and ignoring them all as she stared at her food with wide eyes, clearly thinking hard.
"Wait, wait! It's not like it was legally binding or anything!" Sanji sounded strangled. "So me and the Marimo got married on Looksee, so what? No one else needs to know about this!"
"But Sanji," Nami finally said, the witch's cheeks bulging with egg, "Everyone needs to know this story. It's hilarious."
And Zoro finally did laugh then, both at Chopper's still-shocked face and at the eruption of a blush all over Sanji's face. Then some of the others did too, howling at the situation.
Sanji did not, grabbing and pulling at his own hair in distress, shaking and looking distraught and whatever the fuck else. So dramatic! Zoro stood and slung a heavy arm over Sanji's thin shoulders.
"Hey, babe," he said, "The people want to celebrate. Why not let them?"
Zoro went sailing out the door of the galley and nearly fell into the ocean for that one, but it was worth the tremendous foot-shaped bruise on his hip.
Jinbe found him first.
Zoro had been asleep against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, listening to the familiar slap of water against the hull and the calls of maritime birds. His eye opened though as Jinbe got close. While the fishman was a huge guy, he was always light on his feet, and there was only the sounds of rustling clothing as he sat down beside Zoro.
Neither spoke for a minute, but after a particularly long yawn from Zoro Jinbe finally said, "Marriage, hm? That's a big step. Seems like you two did it a bit out of order."
Zoro frowned at Jinbe, who eyed him back.
Then the both of them grinned, laughing into the late-morning sun.
"Crazy, isn't it? Y'know, I was definitely getting weird vibes from the whole thing. I don't remember all the details but I remember it felt kinda formal for a friendship thing."
"Sanji seems rather upset."
Zoro shrugged. "He's just embarrassed. He'll get over it."
"And you?" Jinbe tilted his head, idly tapping one thumb against the massive curve of his belly. "You seem remarkably calm."
"It's not like this changed anything between us," Zoro pointed out. "He's right; it wasn't legal or anything. We can just forget about it."
Jinbe hummed but said nothing else. Zoro tolerated Jinbe's presence more than most of the others on the ship. He knew how to be quiet and liked to meditate. They sat awhile longer in a pleasant quiet. Zoro slept again and when he woke up later, stretching and rolling his neck and shoulders, the guy was gone.
In search of lunch, Zoro wandered back into the galley.
It was probably a mistake, but he was hungry. Sanji was there, of course, and he was making an extremely hilarious face at Zoro as he entered.
"Oh, relax," Zoro said, not having it in him to deal with this.
"What do you want?"
"Food."
"You can starve for all I care," Sanji said, even as he ducked into the fridge for something to feed Zoro with. Zoro ignored him and waited, propping his head up on his hand, elbow out on the tabletop. He watched the blond as he whipped something together for him, quick and fast with leftover rice and some ready-made fish.
It wasn't a huge portion, and Sanji mentioned through clenched teeth that there was going to be a small feast that evening because the Captain wanted one. Zoro grinned to himself, biting back a smart remark about their wedding reception, knowing it wouldn't be worth the hassle.
"Thanks," Zoro said simply when Sanji dropped it in front of him with a clatter.
Sanji let out a hmph noise but sat in the seat opposite Zoro, reaching for his smokes.
Zoro ate. When it was just the two of them like this they could usually find a good groove where no one cursed and there was no physical fighting. Sometimes Sanji could be… cool. They'd talk and laugh and Zoro did not always leave with a headache. If someone else was around that was usually a lost cause, and they'd do their normal thing.
But right now things were peaceful. Sanji stared at Zoro's hands more often than not as he ate and Zoro frowned, trying to see what was so exciting about them.
Oh—the ring. He hadn't taken it off.
Now that he knew where to look, it was easy to see the way Sanji's gaze kept being drawn to the tiny thing around Zoro's pinky finger, then skittering away. Sanji would frown and make faces at the tabletop or ceiling before inevitably peeking again.
Kinda cute.
The sight of the matching ring on Sanji's hand that held his cigarette made something warm twist in Zoro's belly. Whatever, they didn't really mean anything—still, if they didn't mean anything that meant Zoro didn't need to immediately take it off. It was just a ring. He kind of liked jewelry, although he usually just had his earrings.
It wasn't a big deal. Zoro finished his meal in peace and even washed his plate and chopsticks himself as a show of good faith and left Sanji with a wave.
It still wasn't a big deal even during the celebration that evening. True to their word Franky and Usopp had indeed decorated the lawn of the Sunny in streamers and a large banner that read CONGRATULATIONS SANJI AND ZORO! It made Sanji stutter and curse to see it, but he didn't immediately torch it, which was surprising.
Zoro enjoyed all the snacks Sanji prepared for the crew that were served out on deck. Each of his crewmates came to him in turn, giving dramatic speeches about how happy they were that he finally settled down or whatever the hell. Zoro did his best to indulge them, acting like the wedding had been something he'd actually planned. Playing along was getting some hilarious reactions from the Cook, still bright-red and flitting about, fussing with the food and dodging Luffy's arms and calls for more meat.
"To many years of happiness together," Robin told him solemnly, passing him a bottle of sake he knew she'd gotten from the cabinets Sanji told her the keycode for, as well as a book about long-lasting relationships.
"...Thanks," Zoro said, accepting it gamely.
He should have seen it coming, but Usopp's gift exploded with a tremendous blast of confetti that nearly took his remaining eye out. Nami took a few beri off his debt (the witch) and they shared a few drinks together by the railing, legs hanging out over the ocean.
"Are you sure you didn't know it was a wedding?"
Zoro stared at Nami, frowning so hard it hurt. "What?"
She waved a hand. "I just mean, it's really suspicious that you didn't know it was a wedding. I get you're dumb as rocks, Zoro, but…"
"Hey!"
"The Strawhat pirates' first married couple," Nami sighed, "Who would have thought?"
Zoro leant in a bit closer, checking to make sure no one else was overhearing. "I think it's just a matter of time before Franky asks her."
Nami perked up. "I know, right? Robin knows he's up to something. He's been tinkering in his workshop a few nights a week. Whatever he proposes with, I just hope it doesn't bring the ship down."
"I'll be on Captain drowning duty." Zoro placed one heavy hand on his heart.
"And I'll make sure Chopper survives." Nami mimicked him, and they both nodded before clinking their mugs together and taking a simultaneous sip.
Sanji always got a little bent out of shape when Zoro spent too much time talking to Nami, the man jealous of Zoro's ability to survive the witch's harassment. (Or friendship, maybe, he'd call it.) Sure enough eventually the cook came over, hands clenching nervously and wiggling weirdly, instantly reminding Zoro yet again of how Sanji had absolutely no clue how to be normal around girls.
"Congratulations on the wedding, Sanji," Nami said.
"I—ah. Thank you, Nami-swan," Sanji said, voice weak. He sat down between them, arms wrapping around his knees like a scared little kid. It was a shame Zoro didn't have a coat or blanket or anything to offer him.
Zoro gestured with his mug around at the rest of their nakama enjoying themselves. Chopper was riding around on Jinbe's shoulders and enjoying some cotton candy, getting sticky clumps of it in Jinbe's hair. "It was a good excuse to relax a bit, at least."
"...Yeah, I guess. If only I was married to you, Nami, and not this brute—"
"We sure wouldn't be married for long, Sanji," Nami said lightly, climbing up to her feet. Sanji talking about dating or marriage to her was usually her cue to scram. "Okay, I'll leave you to it. I'm going to try the parfaits you made, Sanji."
"Enjoy, my darling!"
Sanji watched her go with a forlorn expression, and only once she disappeared around to the other side of the deck did Sanji's shoulders finally relax. He went quiet, staring hard at his knees.
Whatever he was thinking, he did not elaborate on it, so Zoro let him be. He went back to staring out at the dark ocean, occasionally gulping his ale.
But after a few minutes Sanji's voice came between them, softer than usual. "I always thought," he said, "That I'd get married to a princess."
Zoro snorted. "Guess you fucked that up."
"Guess so." Sanji had an odd quality to his voice. "When I was a kid, I thought—I thought that I'd end up having no choice in my marriage. That even though I'd marry a beautiful princess, I wouldn't have chosen her. And I suppose, ultimately, that almost came true."
Zoro had not been there for the mess on Wholecake Island. Sanji, some sort of prince, hated and beaten and loathed by his family—it had been a shock, honestly, but Zoro supposed it explained quite a bit.
"And I guess I didn't entirely choose you, because the wedding was an accident, but still—how funny is that? I always knew I'd get married off to someone who didn't actually care about me, and then…"
Sanji didn't crack a joke about Zoro not caring about him either. Both of them knew that was not true.
In an attempt to lighten the mood, Zoro gave a mighty stretch and said after a burp, "Yeah, and look how lucky you got in the end. Me. I shower sometimes, I'm strong as fuck, and I'll fight the bugs off."
Sanji turned to him, and the sad frown on his face was already lightening into something approaching a smile. "Wow," he sighed, "So lucky."
"I even bring to the table some alcoholism, some shared trauma and shit, and I already know about the women's clothes you hide under your suits, so—"
"What!" Sanji squawked, his feet already kicking at Zoro. "You don't know shit, Marimo!"
"Right, right," Zoro said, grinning, "I don't know anything. I forgot."
Now Sanji was really blushing, the heat having crawled up his neck to the curve of his ears. He was smiling though, and when he held out a hand for Zoro's drink, Zoro passed it over easily. The moonlight caught the glint of the ring on Sanji's hand.
Sanji lifted the mug up to the moon over the waves and said aloud, "To our fucking wedding, I guess."
Zoro flopped back onto the deck, arms bent under his head, and echoed him. "To our fucking wedding."
Life as a technically-married man continued exactly the same as it had before.
They landed soon at another island where the enemies weren't voles but something that might as well be. The Strawhats kicked ass, bulldozed through a little political intrigue, and partied. Rinse and repeat. There was another spooky haunted island that reminded Zoro too much of Thriller Bark, and realizing that it was all the very elaborate imagination of someone with some kind of Dream-related Devil Fruit pissed him the hell off.
He didn't like people rooting around in his brain.
But Luffy beat the ever-loving shit out of the fruit user and soon enough the Sunny was on the ocean again. They left the dark, foreboding clouds behind and were on their way to lovelier skies. The last of the rain puddles on the deck evaporated under the warm sun and Zoro settled down on the soft grass for a nap. Around him were the familiar sounds of his nakama, and they were on their way to the next adventure—everything was as it should be.
When he woke, yawning and doing a meandering trip around the deck to get his legs back online, Robin and Nami flagged him down. They were sitting comfortably under two umbrellas with fruity cocktails the Cook must have given them. Chopper was napping on Nami's lap, a big ball of soft brown fur.
"I can't help but notice you haven't taken off your ring," Robin said, and Nami hid a shit-eating smile behind her hand.
Zoro rolled his eyes. Eventually someone was gonna ask about it, he knew, and he figured it would be one of the girls if not Swirly himself. He helped himself to Nami's cocktail as payment for suffering through this conversation (even if sugary and gross, it was booze). "Yeah," he said after putting it back down with a clunk. "It's a new challenge for swordfighting." He pulled out Shusui and demonstrated. Turning the hilt this way and that in his palm was indeed accompanied by the occasional soft clink of the ring catching against the fabric of the hilt and hardness underneath. It was still on his pinky, of course, and it really did interfere with his swordfighting just enough to be interesting.
It's not actually why he was still wearing the damn thing, though, and the unimpressed stares the two girls fixed him with says they know that.
"They're friendship rings," Zoro said, trying again. "I'm his friend, ain't I?"
He puffed out his chest a little, hands moving to his hips, saying it with all the confidence he could muster. His first time saying such a thing out loud, maybe?
Then followed a short stare-down… but the girls eventually waved him away, and Zoro escaped mostly unscathed.
It wasn't just Zoro though—Sanji, too, still wore his.
Zoro saw it when Sanji smoked, reaching for his pack of cigs or sparking his lighter.
Zoro saw it when Sanji cooked, glinting like a small star from the bright flames of the burners.
Zoro saw it when Sanji fought, when Sanji planted his hands on the ground and spun, kicking outward.
They didn't talk about it.
But they did talk about other shit, like random, friendship-type shit. That is to say… they talked about anything and everything. Maybe it was because Zoro finally admitted out loud that Sanji was his friend that he found it easier to talk with Sanji (and now that he started, he found it hard to stop, bragging to any nakama who would listen that actually the piece of shit over there is his fucking friend). Maybe it was the tiny piece of metal on his pinky finger that reminded him, even when Sanji was snarling and spitting at him, that mostly it was all for show, and that Sanji did not actually want to kill him.
Friendship, Zoro decided, was complicated.
It was easy with Nami and Usopp and Franky, but what he had with them was all so different from whatever he had with the Cook, that sets his blood on fire and makes him grin whenever they're back to back, glaring at Marines.
When they make landfall again, a few weeks after the accidental wedding, it was Sanji who Zoro joined up with, not the others. Sanji had some boring-ass shopping to do, and Zoro suffered through it like he always did. He held bags and whatever else the blond put in his hands, until they dropped it all off on the Sunny. Sanji did inventory while Zoro caught a nap on the couch in the galley, and soon enough Sanji roused Zoro with a kick to the head and they ventured back out.
"What are you feeling this time?" Sanji asked. He was referring to their usual restaurant-venturing on a new place whenever there weren't people to save or ass to kick.
"Rice," Zoro answered, shrugging. "Fish?"
"Marimoooo," Sanji drawled, groaning. "You are so damn boring. Why did I even bother asking?"
"I don't know, why did you even bother asking?"
"Shut up," Sanji griped, and Zoro hopped over the leg that struck out, trying to trip him.
They wandered up and down a lively shopping district for awhile, shooting the shit and occasionally running into another of their nakama. Franky and Robin were together, holding hands and watching some kind of demonstration in the town square. Zoro and Sanji elbowed each other, sharing identical waggling-eyebrow looks, and left the couple to it.
Luffy and Chopper were eating dinner at some kind of diner that Luffy had helped out somehow, and Sanji's face was a familiar look of I'm glad I have the night off. They moved on without stopping to say hello.
Sanji eventually decided on a rooftop bar/restaurant thing. It was a little fancier than Zoro preferred but at a table by the railing he could pretty much ignore everyone else and look out over the town.
The Cook ordered for the both of them, as was customary for their outings—dates?—friendship hang-outs. The rice dish Zoro was eventually served fucking rocked, and Sanji seemed pleased to hear it.
They ate, and they drank some, and Sanji paid with the leftover berri from shopping. Zoro couldn't help but stare at the little ring on his finger as he passed the cash over to the waiter. It was discolored a little, less so than Zoro's because the cook had started wearing gloves when washing dishes to protect it, but the cheap metal of the band was clearly not meant for the long haul.
It suited Sanji, Zoro thought privately.
Several weeks later he still thought that was true. Sanji's ring was more tarnished than ever, but it still looked nice on his long, slender fingers. The previously smooth gray metal was now a mix of blue-green and bronze, and parts had even started eroding from soaps and vinegars or whatever. Zoro caught Sanji fussing with it more than once, secretly, frowning at the thing.
Zoro's was on its last legs. As it turned out, sword fighting with a ring on just seemed impossible to upkeep. The constant movement of lifting weights or swinging swords had worn the metal worryingly thin.
It finally broke in a fight with a Neptunian. Zoro had just Oni Giri'd the fuck out of it, and he landed on the broken hull of the other ship they'd found easily enough, and then he'd noticed something wrong—his ring was gone.
Then Zoro realized it was in the fucking mouth of the fucking fish he'd just sliced up, and despite its wailing and wriggling and blood spraying everywhere, dove right back in.
Somehow, in the darkness and wetness and mildly poisonous goo of its mouth, Zoro managed to grab part of the ring. Then he cut his way back out, dipped himself off in the ocean to get rid of the worst of the blood, and miserably trudged back onto the Sunny.
"What the hell was that?" Nami asked him, taking several rapid steps back as he approached. "And stop dripping blood all over the deck!"
"Zoro looked cool," Luffy grinned from the railing, where Zoro had tossed him earlier after falling overboard in the fight.
He went to the showers with minimal fussing, which unfortunately clued the Cook in on something being wrong. Zoro was halfway scrubbed on the stool when Sanji poked his head in, hardly blinking at Zoro's nakedness.
"You alright, Mosshead?"
"Fine," Zoro grunted. "Go away."
"Maybe I'll take a bath too," Sanji sniffed.
"Cook," Zoro said through gritted teeth. "Look—I need to be alone right now."
"...Okay," Sanji said. "I'll go. But tell me. Are you hurt?"
"No."
"You're holding your arm funny."
Zoro was, but that was because he didn't want Sanji to see his bare hand and was trying to hide it behind his back. Clenched in his fist was half of his ring, the gem and maybe a centimeter's worth of the band… and Zoro didn't know why it was making him so fucking upset but it was, and he did not want the stupid Cook to know he broke it.
"It's fine."
"Zoro."
Sanji hardly ever said his actual goddamn name. Zoro looked up from his lap, a guilty frown already spreading on his face, and at Sanji's genuinely worried expression reluctantly held out his hand. He turned his fist over and uncurled his fingers.
"It broke," Zoro said. "Damn fish almost ate the whole thing."
…Neither of them had ever acknowledged these fucking rings when it was just the two of them. Occasionally a nakama would poke fun, but that had settled down after a few weeks. Zoro caught Sanji eyeing his all the time, but they hadn't actually talked about them.
The mildly panicked look on Sanji's face was something Zoro knew well.
"I—well, uh, it was just a silly thing anyway," Sanji said, looking like he was going to take a shit right there on the bathroom floor. "Ha! I mean, haha—it was just a trinket from the ceremony."
Sanji's ring was clearly well-loved and cared for, despite all that Sanji's hands went through on the regular.
"Shut up," Zoro told him. "It wasn't."
And it really, really wasn't.
Sanji fell silent, and Zoro fixed him with a glare, daring him to argue.
He did not, but he was still silent, and edged towards the door, doing that cowardly shit he always did when stuff got too real and too tough. Zoro could write the dictionary definition for being closed-off and not talking about shit but Sanji could write a whole book about it.
Then Sanji was gone, scuttling back out the door like a spooked cat, and Zoro sighed heavily to himself before finishing his bath.
Predictably, Eyebrows avoided him the rest of the week. There weren't a whole lot of places to hide on a ship full of other people but Sanji sure tried it. He left snacks in the crow's nest for Zoro instead of delivering them himself, and seemed to dart out and do his chores or whatever while Zoro was napping. It was incredibly frustrating. It also was not the first time Sanji had pulled shit like this, and Zoro knew that eventually the Cook would start pretending everything was normal.
But until then, he was stuck with the blond barely looking at him, biting his lips and wringing his hands (the ring was gone, Zoro noticed) and being generally unbearable.
So the next time they made landfall at an island that had a proper business district and many, many places to shop, Zoro cornered Nami before she could disembark.
"Witch," Zoro growled, "I need some money."
Nami paused what she was doing and eyed him.
"Money," she repeated.
"Yeah."
"For booze?"
"No."
"For what?"
Zoro shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I need, like, a lot, though."
As expected, Nami made it difficult for him. "Definitely not until you tell me what it's for."
Sanji had already disembarked, scooting off with his stupid cart for groceries before Zoro could even offer to join. The idiot. It would be embarrassing if someone else overheard, but Zoro sighed and said, "I want to buy new rings. Mine broke, and his is about to, if he didn't toss it already. I want, like, heavy duty ones."
"Heavy duty rings," Nami repeated, staring at Zoro like he was a fucking idiot.
"I mean normal ones," Zoro bit out, growling, "Not shitty fake ones that probably cost 5 berri that they gave us back on that island. And a chain, 'cause wearing it on my finger isn't working."
"Are you thinking a real gem?"
"Dunno. Was thinking maybe just bands."
Nami stared at him for a long, tense minute. Finally, she said, "I'll help you, but I'm not paying for it."
"Well I don't have the cash to—"
Nami said, a familiar terrifying glint in her eyes, "So we'll get some."
And they did. It turned out that a scumbag pirate was messing with a strip of houses down by the ocean on the north side of the island. With a few careful applications of Nami's Thunderbolt Tempo they were able to get the guy's hideout location from some of his thugs. While Zoro beat his ass, Nami, true to the nickname on her wanted poster, burgled the place.
They overturned their haul on a picnic bench in a park at a scenic overlook nearby. There was some gold, but mostly fistfuls of cold hard cash and a few mysterious bank notes. Nami shoved those into her bra but gamely bagged up the rest.
"Okay," she said, "Now let's find the right jeweler."
They found a ring store in the fanciest part of town. Most of the folks they passed gave them a wide berth, and the feeling was mutual. Zoro hated all this stuffy, prissy shit; the building itself was all clear glass and shiny chrome, with rings and watches and jewels in protected cases with a wannabe bruiser guarding the door.
"We're here for two wedding bands," Nami said, confident as all hell, before Zoro could open his mouth and ruin it.
"Oh!" The nearest employee blinked at them, but gamely moved closer. "Congratulations on your wedding!"
"Oh, nah," Nami said, yanking Zoro over to the right section, "It's for him and his husband."
Most of the bands just weren't right. Some were made of ivory or some other kind of monster bone and Zoro could imagine Sanji recoiling and saying it was disgusting. Most of the metals were distracting; Zoro wanted something quiet. Chill. Who knew he'd ever have this many opinions about wedding—er, friendship—rings?
From the broken bit of the ring Zoro still had, they were able to figure out how big the original was, which had seemed perfect for Sanji's ring finger. Zoro really didn't want to emasculate Sanji, or anything, but the Cook had seemed pretty enamored with the tiny shitty gem in his previous ring—even Nami agreed. So Zoro ended up getting them both fairly masculine-looking gold bands, although Sanji's was inlaid with a pretty blue sapphire that would, he hoped, remind Sanji of the All Blue.
Zoro's had three small lines engraved lengthwise around the circle, for obvious reasons. He got them both chains—Sanji could pick if he wanted to wear his on his finger or around his neck. They were sturdy enough to hopefully survive some combat but were still fashionable. Nami picked the chains out, saying Zoro would pick industrial strength construction shit if he could.
So then Zoro stood outside, with a bag of expensive ass jewelry, and finally let himself think about how he'd just bought him and Sanji real wedding rings. Friendship rings. Whatever.
It was not until they were a few blocks away that Nami finally opened up her closed fist with a wink, revealing several rings with sparkling gems she'd swiped while the attendant was busy helping Zoro size his ring properly.
"Nice," Zoro grinned.
"You going to find Sanji tonight?"
"...Nah." Zoro crossed his arms and frowned up at the sky. "Think I'll wait until we're back at sea. He'll be more comfortable in his kitchen and all."
"You really care about him, huh?"
Zoro frowned harder. "Yeah."
"Are you going to tell him they're wedding rings?"
There was no bullshit in Nami's gaze—Zoro could hardly lie to her, so he just said, "They're whatever the Cook wants them to be."
Nami just hummed, and the two of them went in search of a bar to get sufficiently drunk in.
Zoro woke the next morning thankfully without having gotten accidentally married again. Within an hour of waking, though, the whole island rumbled ominously. Then the sky outside his hotel window darkened, and he had enough time to curse Oh, shit before launching himself outside and joining the rest of his nakama in whatever the hell was going on.
It was supposedly the curse of a long-lost sea god but was in reality some giant fucker stirring up dirt in the volcano at the top of the mountain, but it took them all most of the day to figure that out. Between the hysterical townspeople and the doomsday prophets on every corner, Zoro was plenty occupied. Luffy got the final knockout on the ringleader of the whole thing, and Zoro watched carefully over the others as they all eventually made their way back down the steep mountainside to the city in the valley.
His life was so fucking chaotic and bizarre that stuff like this made him happy as could be. Zoro loved these little shits, especially the grumpy blond one who was sulking because the legend of some sexy lady sea god was fake. The weight of the jewelry cases in Zoro's pocket was so heavy, he thought, falling into step beside Sanji. Sanji let him, and that was a good sign.
Any sort of celebration was cut short when one of the employees of the jewelry shop recognized Nami.
Then they were all on the run, Zoro cradling Chopper in his arms despite the wriggling kid's insistence that he could run just fine. Brook was yo ho ho-ing and Luffy was screaming and Franky was laughing and launching missiles out his ass or whatever the fuck, and it was awesome.
They crashed onto the Sunny and one stomach-churning Coup de Burst later had them in fresh waters. Zoro finally let Chopper go, but the guy was comfortable on Zoro's shoulders and decided to hang out for a little longer.
"Did you have a good time there?" Chopper asked. His little hooves tapped absently against Zoro's sweaty scalp as Zoro patrolled the ship, walking fully around it to check for any threats in the distance or immediate waters.
"Yeah, it was pretty good. Did some shopping."
"Oh? Anything exciting?"
The rings in Zoro's pocket were certainly exciting, but Zoro just shrugged. "Sort of," he hedged. "What about you?"
"Brook and I went to see a performance. It was really cool! The theater troupe was visiting from Sabaody, and they threw confetti into the audience, like woosh—"
Chopper told him all about the show he'd seen, and after that Zoro deposited him gently on the swing on deck before heading to the tangerine trees for a nap.
Then he woke, and he ate dinner with his nakama, and he effortlessly sent Usopp away from dishwashing duty with a pointed look and a jabbed finger in the direction of the door. Then it was just him and the Cook, quietly washing and drying and tidying.
Sanji looked happy. He was slightly rumpled from his long hours spent cooking and preparing, but hardly anything could bring Sanji the same level of contentment as providing for the rest of his nakama.
With the last dish washed, and Sanji's hands carefully dried on a nearby hand towel, Zoro finally turned to Sanji and rummaged around in the depths of his pockets.
"Hey," Zoro grunted, shoving down a sudden wash of insecurity, "I got you somethin'."
Sanji leant against the counter with his hip and watched him with mild curiosity. "Hm?"
Zoro held out the small velvet ring box. "Here."
Sanji didn't even blink. He stood there, frozen, staring at the little box in Zoro's hand like it was a bug come to wreck his kitchen.
"Oh, hold on." Zoro swapped it with the other one in his pocket. "That one was mine. Here's yours."
He pushed the thing towards Sanji after the blond stared at him a bit longer, unmoving. Then Sanji's hand shot out like a viper, grabbing it and opening it like he thought someone would take it from him.
"...It should fit alright."
Sanji, glancing furtively between the ring and Zoro's face, slid it onto his own hand. It did indeed fit just right. He slowly clenched his fingers into a fist and then relaxed it, turning his hand this way and that. The sapphire Zoro and Nami had chosen really was a good choice.
"If you don't want it on your hand though, I got us each these too."
Zoro passed over two longer velvet boxes with the chains inside. They were identical, and he said as much, absently pulling out his own ring. Sanji was curious about it, staring with wide eyes as Zoro demonstrated that yeah he could put his own on his ring finger now if he wanted.
Exasperated, Zoro then groaned, "Can you just say something already? You're killin' me, Shit-Cook."
"I, uh." Sanji cleared his throat. "You bought these?"
"Yeah. Nami helped."
"...I see. Turn around."
Zoro paused in struggling with fastening the stupid tiny clasp on the chain. He turned, and Sanji's deft hands plucked at either end of the chain, the ring already strung through it. He quickly clasped it together and stepped back. Zoro turned again, and both of them stared at the way the ring rested against Zoro's tanned, bare skin.
"These were expensive?"
"...Yeah," Zoro confirmed.
Sanji's voice sounded so small as he replied, "Oh."
He opened up the other box to stare at his own chain, and ultimately chose to put it in his pocket and keep the ring on his finger.
"So," Sanji said then, red to the tips of his ears, "That was nice of you, for a caveman."
Zoro scoffed. "I can be nice sometimes."
"I know."
"It's just, uh—well, we're technically married and all, so we might as well have quality shit."
"Right." Sanji nodded, staring at Zoro through the curtain of his pretty hair, eyes big and blue and wide. "I was shitty to you last week."
"Eh." Zoro shrugged. "S'how you are when you're uncomfortable."
"...Yeah." Sanji raked his fingers through his hair, pushing the whole business back off his forehead, exposing both his eyebrows. It flopped back to cover his eye again in one scruffy yellow wave. "Still. Sorry. And thanks."
"Welcome." Zoro's heart was beating fast in his chest, so much so it was amazing that his ring wasn't bouncing off his pecs from the force of it. He nodded at Sanji, turned, and called a chill "See ya" over his shoulder as he left.
"Later, Marimo," Sanji answered, his voice still uncannily indulgent and soft.
Married life with Blackleg Sanji got a little sweeter after that.
Sure, they still argued, and sure, they still did their performative 'I can't stand you' bullshit in front of the others or whatever, but in those increasingly-often moments when it was just the two of them, things were nice.
Gentle, almost, at times.
Up in the crow's nest with a pack of cigs and a fresh bottle of sake, they would sit and look out at the horizon. Sanji would sometimes bring onigiri or another snack with him. Sometimes Zoro would beckon Sanji closer like a skittish kitten and would sit so close their knees or elbows bumped from time to time. Sanji never moved away.
Before, moments like this could be hard to come by. Now, though—what the hell was the point of being all awkward and distant from his own fucking husband? Er, Best Friend? Best Friend Husband?
There was no point to that, Zoro had decided, so had gone all in as he did pretty much everything else in his life.
"Yo," Zoro greeted Usopp a week later, on the docks of some sunny little spring island, "Have you seen my husband?"
Sanji was actually like ten feet away fussing with a box of potatoes or radishes or something, and Zoro knew that, but both the look on Usopp's face and the sudden noise of Sanji tripping over root vegetables was worth it.
With forced nonchalance, Zoro turned to Sanji after Usopp's awkward gesturing in his direction, and said, "Oh, hey. Hurry it up, Shit Cook, I'm hungry. We have to get to the place before they start serving dinner."
"I—shut the fuck up, Mosshead, I'm almost done here! And don't ask Usopp stuff like that, I swear—"
"Leave me out of this," Usopp said, holding up both his hands.
"Ooooooiiii," Zoro bellowed into the men's bunk room. "What was the point of getting married if you're gonna treat me like shit?"
Sanji, already turning a hilarious shade of reddish pink, whirled around with a few items of freshly-cleaned laundry held to his chest.
"I'm not—" Sanji sputtered, like he always did whenever Zoro acknowledged the fact they'd accidentally married each other, "I'm not, whatever, treating you badly. It had holes in it, so I threw it the fuck out."
"But I liked that shirt," Zoro groused, coming closer.
Sanji's rapid folding got even faster. His fingers fluttered nervously over soft fabric, effortlessly pairing up socks and smoothing out wrinkles on Chopper's small t-shirts. He was nervous. Not only did Zoro make Sanji feel happy, irritated, angry sometimes, and even upset—he also made Sanji feel nervous. The pink had spread to the tips of Sanji's ears and the blond shot him irritated but curious glances through his hair before dropping back to the clothing spread out on the table.
Sanji eventually said, rather quietly, "We can go shopping and get you a new one on the next island if there's a store."
Zoro could live with that. "Alright. When you're done, wanna spar?"
The grin Sanji shot him then was fierce. "You're on, Marimo."
To absolutely nobody's surprise, Sanji was making an asshole of himself in front of a group of girls who probably just wanted to get on with their day. Two of the girls were communicating via eye contact and raised eyebrows as Sanji dithered in front of the group, offering tourist recommendations or something he probably wasn't even qualified to give.
Any opportunity to harass Sanji was a good one as far as Zoro was concerned, and he quickly walked over, slung an arm around Sanji's shoulders, and asked, "Is my husband botherin' you girls?"
And just like that, the whole group relaxed a little, like a collective sigh of relief had escaped the girls. The ring on its chain sat at its usual place between Zoro's pecs, looking rather lovely in the bright morning sun.
"Um, no," one girl said, looking curiously at Sanji, who had gone quiet and sour-faced.
"It's okay, I could tell he was. You all have a good day." Zoro waggled his fingers goodbye and turned, steering Sanji away and back towards the Sunny.
"You asshole," Sanji hissed, even though he had yet to extract himself from Zoro's side, where he fit kind of perfectly, "I wasn't bothering them, I was just welcoming them to the island. It's Maya's bachelorette party—"
Zoro grunted, only half-listening, focusing on the way the curve of Sanji's shoulder fit into his palm and little else.
The booze at this shitty bar was subpar, and the freezing winter island reminded him of the time he tried swimming on Drum Island—that is to say, Zoro was in a sour mood.
The crappy formica countertop was nicked and scratched with people's initials and the bounties of those who had visited over the years. The stool had a lump in it that was a literal pain in his ass. It was cold.
And beside him, Sanji had been deep in a cooking memoir and a glass of red wine, but now he was chatting with some dude who had recognized the book's cover and felt it necessary to discuss it.
Zoro shot a sour look at the guy out of the corner of his eye as Sanji leant in to him to look at a certain passage. He was a little too friendly, Zoro thought, as he scratched at the label on the shitty craft beer he was drinking because they didn't have any sake. The guy was asking if Sanji wanted to get out of here and talk books somewhere else. Due to Sanji's general incompetence with anything romantic he never noticed when dudes came onto him (and women didn't come on to him at all, ever).
Except—
—Sanji was gently leaning into Zoro's side now, and he raised his hand to show the ring Zoro had purchased him, and he said—
—he fucking said—
"Sorry man, I'm married."
"Oh." The guy nodded, gaze flickering between Sanji and Zoro, and he gave them both some sort of polite apology before quickly excusing himself. Zoro did not hear a fucking word.
Beneath the crappy countertop Zoro's dick was rock solid. He was so hard he felt dizzy with it. Sanji continued to lean against him for a moment longer before straightening up.
"Sorry," Sanji said, after a sip of wine. "Wanted to let him down easy."
"It's fine," Zoro managed, gripping his own thighs so he wouldn't shatter the beer bottle. "I don't mind."
What he really wanted to say was Say it again.
It was one thing to be married to Blackleg Sanji but another thing entirely to have Blackleg Sanji married to him.
Somehow the distinction had Zoro reeling for the next week.
Like, okay, some late-night talks with Nami up in the crow's nest had helped him realize that this whole marriage-to-Sanji thing was now a lot more serious to him than it had been at the beginning. He liked Sanji. He liked calling him his husband and shit. He liked his ring and liked the way sometimes his nakama smiled when they saw it on his chest. He liked seeing Sanji's, too.
He really liked Sanji. He had this whole time, even back in the days when he couldn't even call the guy his friend because it felt like the word would make his mouth burst into flames or something.
So yeah, it was one thing for Zoro to know that he was Sanji's, but thinking that Sanji was his, too, by extension had Zoro in some kind of possessive, gleeful fit where he couldn't even bear to look at Sanji without his heart jumping into his throat and making him feel vaguely sick.
He wanted Sanji desperately.
And in a way he already had him—that was his fucking husband, after all—but not really, not in the way it mattered, where they didn't treat it like the joke it was, a drunken night on a strange island gone wrong.
They were married but not dating, and showing their commitment to each other to anybody with eyes but they weren't together like that, and had never even kissed, let alone actually devoted the rest of their lives to each other and shit—
"Marimo," Sanji said one evening, having snuck up on him somehow. "What's going on?"
"Oh, fuck," Zoro swore before he could bite it back. Sanji looked lovely tonight, even though he was in the same thing he always wore, a button-up with a tie and some tight slacks. "Nothing."
Sanji looked unimpressed, and he tossed an onigiri at Zoro's head. Zoro caught it and had one of the corners in his mouth before he really processed it. Caught. The Shit Cook's food was always so delicious.
"What's up?" Sanji asked. "Are you and me cool? You've been extra annoying lately."
When Zoro did not answer, buying time under the guise of chewing very slowly, Sanji amended himself: "I mean you've been avoiding me."
Ugh, fuck this. Getting all lovesick and shit over your own Best Friend Husband was a fucking joke.
"I just—" Zoro swallowed thickly. "Ugh. Fuck off, Curly-Brow. I've just been happy, I guess."
Sanji frowned as he parsed that out. He blew a cloud of smoke out over the railing of the Sunny. "You're being weird because you're happy?"
"I'm not being weird."
"You are. What're you happy about?"
You, Zoro thought. The memory of Sanji telling some random dude that he couldn't leave and hook up with him because he was married to Zoro still tantalized him. It was their moments of calm and their moments of anger full of fighting and even moments like this that were uncomfortable and kinda really fucking weird, but still pretty cool, because Sanji was there.
Zoro just shrugged.
A second onigiri appeared then, hidden in an airtight bag hidden in Sanji's blazer pocket. Zoro accepted the bribe placidly, and after some thoughtful chewing (his favorite filling, of course), he finally just said it.
"I like being married, is all. To you, I mean."
"Oh."
Even in the darkness and the dim moonlight Zoro could see the blush spreading out over Sanji's cheeks, probably going to his ears like it often did.
"I… don't mind it," Sanji confessed. "You're an obnoxious brute, but, ah… yeah, s'nice."
"Mm."
Zoro smiled, turning away and looking out at the ocean so Sanji wouldn't see it. The blond could tell though and he nudged him with his elbow.
"That's really it? You're just…happy?"
"Yeah." Zoro finished his snack and let out a tremendous belch, which had Sanji wrinkling his nose in disgust but not moving away, still looking at Zoro with all of his interest. "When you told that guy you were married, I liked that. And us doing our thing. And talking like this. It's good. I know it was a mistake and a joke at first, but…"
"But it's not, anymore? For you?"
Sanji was closer now, leaning around him a bit to get a good look at Zoro's face. Zoro was a shitty liar and was no good at complicated facial expressions. No subtlety to him at all, in any form.
Moment of truth: "Nah. It's not."
"Okay." Sanji leant back. He sounded a little surprised, a little overwhelmed, and for one terrible moment Zoro thought Sanji was going to do his usual bullshit and run.
But instead, he just nodded and said again, softly, to himself, "Okay."
And then he was reaching out with his slender, precious hands and plucked Zoro's ring off his chest. The man's fingertips were chilly, and Zoro broke out in goosebumps. It couldn't go far, because of the familiar chain around Zoro's neck, but then Sanji ducked his head.
Zoro had made out with quite a few guys over the years, but none of those experiences compared to the way Sanji pressed a kiss to Zoro's ring, placed it gently back over Zoro's heart where it belonged, and fixed him with a smile.
That smile was equal parts sweet, because Sanji was so sweet and kind and gentle, at times, and sly, because Sanji had to know what he was doing to Zoro.
"I—Goddamn." Zoro stared stupidly at Sanji, heart pounding in his chest.
And then Sanji laughed, pink-cheeked and radiant in the moonlight. He sucked at the last of his cigarette and ashed it in a little tin he carried around so he wouldn't pollute the ocean. He cared too much about the All Blue for that. Sanji crooked a finger, and then paused for a moment.
He then reached for Zoro's hand instead and entwined his fingers with Zoro's scarred ones. "I have some dishes to do from dinner," he said. "Wanna help?"
Zoro hated doing dishes. "Yes."
Sanji led him back towards the galley and Zoro followed like the dutiful, loving husband he was growing to be.