Work Text:
“When can you start? Today?”
Sanji stared at the red-haired manager of the coffeeshop. He had fumbled through the introductions of his interview, called the store the Sousand Thunny instead of Thousand Sunny, and probably sweat through his shirt. He didn’t dare look down to check, keeping his arms pinned to his sides out of fear. And here she was, offering him the job on the spot.
“Um, I can, but, are you sure?” he asked, “Is there a test period?”
“Says on your resume you’ve worked in a coffeeshop for five years,” the woman said. (She had introduced herself, but Sanji hadn’t been listening as he was trying to remember his own name.)
“Y-yes,” Sanji nodded.
“So you’re probably overqualified for this place,” she sighed, standing up and tossing an apron toward him, “Our drinks are currently being made by someone who has machine grease on his face constantly. And he only got the job because the previous barista kept taking sips of frothed milk as he was making the drinks.”
Sanji nodded mutely, putting the apron on and following her out of the backroom. The coffeeshop had yet to open, the early morning light flooding through the glass windows. Thousand Sunny was wide and spacious, full of randomly assorted sofas, chairs, and tables that all looked like they had been collected from garage sales across the country. It was eclectic and warm and wonderful. Sanji was led behind the counter, his hands already itching to work with the equipment. The machines were old, but good quality and well cared for. He nodded happily at the bags of beans, leaning forward to smell them.
“I’ll leave you to figure things out, but we open in half an hour and a few other workers should be trickling in soon. Feel free to make yourself some coffee and test out the machines,” the woman said, “Let me know if you have any questions. I’ll get your contract ready. We pay biweekly and tips are shared equally.”
“Um,” Sanji said quickly, then froze.
She cocked her head, “You need an advance on your salary? I can probably do that.”
“N-no, I just, Miss…” Sanji said, then trailed off, unsure how to ask his boss what her name was.
“Nami,” she said firmly, “Never call me Miss anything.” She patted his shoulder and returned to the backroom.
Taking a deep breath, Sanji turned back to the counter and began trying to figure out where everything was. His heart rate was still high as he puttered around, locating the portafilter, the tamper, the various tins and containers. The location of the coffee grinder was strange, and the fridge was needlessly far from the espresso maker and milk foamer, but he didn’t dare move anything yet.
He began calming down as he worked on making his first cup of coffee, the familiar motions comforting.
New city, new apartment, new job, a fresh start, Sanji thought to himself. He was out of his hometown, out of the shadow of his parents and siblings. He could become whoever he wanted. He would make friends, maybe find himself in a happy romantic relationship for once.
“New barista?” asked a low voice, and Sanji yelped, dropping the metal can in his hand. It landed on the ground with a clank, spilling milk foam all over the floor. Red-faced, he stammered apologies to the man who had snuck up on him and looked around for napkins.
“I got it,” the man said, opening a cupboard and taking out a roll of paper towels. He pulled back when Sanji reached for it to clean up the mess. Sanji’s fingers chased after the towels until he was standing inches away from an extremely handsome man. Green hair, three golden earrings, grey eyes, an amused, lopsided smirk ghosting over his lips.
“H-hi,” Sanji managed to breathe out.
“Hey,” the man replied, unwrapping the roll and bending over to begin sopping up the milk on the ground. Sanji could only stare at him, his shoulder blades and toned back apparent through the tight blue shirt he was wearing. After he finished, he looked up, eyes scrutinizing Sanji, “I’m Zoro.”
“S-Sanji.”
“Sanji, grab the cleaning spray from that same cupboard, will you?”
Quickly, Sanji stumbled toward the cupboard and pulled out a bottle of floor cleaner. This time, he stubbornly held onto it, holding out his hand for the roll of towels.
“I made the mess, I’ll finish cleaning up,” he said, feeling his cheeks redden as Zoro quirked an eyebrow but gave him the paper towels.
“So… you are the new barista, not just a stranger who broke in and started using our machines?” Zoro asked, leaning back against the counter to watch Sanji.
“I-I just started today,” Sanji said, keeping his eyes glued to the ground as he wiped away the remaining mess.
Zoro hummed, “It looked like you knew what you were doing. That’ll be a nice change of pace.”
Sanji couldn’t think of anything to say, so he just nodded, throwing the dirty paper towels away and washing his hands. When he finished, Zoro was still standing there looking at him.
“Are you… a barista too?” he asked after an awkward silence.
“Nami wouldn’t trust me with that,” Zoro laughed, “I man the register, keep everything stocked for the barista, clean up at the end of the day.” Sanji nodded. It made sense, having an attractive man at the very front drawing in customers.
Again at a loss for words, Sanji looked to the coffee grinder for help, hoping the inanimate object could solve his inability-to-have-a-normal-conversation problem.
“Do you want a drink?” he asked finally, “I can make you something.”
“An americano would be great,” Zoro said, moving aside to give Sanji access to the espresso maker, though hovering nearby at the register as Sanji began working.
“New in town?” Zoro asked after Sanji finished grinding the coffee.
“Ah, yes, moved last week,” Sanji said.
“Grad school?”
“N-no, just… wanted a change of pace,” Sanji said.
“Ah,” Zoro nodded in understanding, “Bad break-up?”
Sanji stared at him, surprised at the forward question. “Um, lots of things…” He bit his tongue, unsure of how to explain that there wasn’t just one trigger that made him leave North Blue, but a combination of pressures. To be a good son, to be a competent brother, to be a generous boyfriend, all compounded by his parents’ divorce, his siblings’ successes one after another, and yes, a bad break-up.
He was mercifully saved from having to continue this line of conversation by the bell chime of the door; two other men walked into the coffeeshop laughing. Sanji steeled himself for more introduction. Sanji Black. My name is Sanji Black, he reminded himself, having successfully changed his last name to his mother’s maiden name after much hand-wringing.
“Oh,” the black-haired man said, a huge smile blooming on his face, “Are you the new coffee person Nami has been trying to hire?”
“They’re called baristas, Luffy, put some respect on the name,” the other curly-haired man said. He reached out his hand, then quickly retracted it as soon as Sanji reached out, making Sanji feel like the dumbest person in the world.
“Sorry, my hands are hella dirty,” he laughed, moving to the sink to wash them before extending a hand again. Machine grease on his face, Sanji remembered Nami saying, smiling tentatively as the man, who indeed had faint marks on his cheeks, enthusiastically shook his hand.
“I’m Usopp,” he said, “Thanks for joining the team, I was really stressed out trying to make the drinks. The first time a customer came back to me and told me everything was wrong with my drink, I nearly fainted.”
“Sanji,” Sanji replied.
The other man was peering in the cup in Sanji’s hand, centimeters away from the drink.
“That’s mine, Luffy,” Zoro said, grabbing the cup, his fingers wrapping around Sanji’s. Sanji squeaked and let go, and Zoro just barely managed to keep his hand on the cup.
“Sorry,” Sanji gasped, berating himself for almost causing another accident.
Zoro waved him away and took a sip from the cup, his face immediately lighting up.
“It’s good,” he said.
“It’s just americano,” Sanji replied bashfully, “It’s the easiest drink to make.”
“I’m Luffy,” the black-haired man said, “Can you make me a spiced caramel chocolate pumpkin latte with extra whipped cream?”
“A what?” Sanji blinked.
“That’s not a real drink, Luffy,” Usopp sighed.
“But I’ve been craving caramel and pumpkin and chocolate,” Luffy frowned.
“I’ll try my best,” Sanji said, mind quickly cycling through how he would want to balance the flavors. Luffy whooped and ran to the back room, Usopp behind him holding his hands up in a silent apology to Sanji.
“You don’t have to humor him, Sanji,” Zoro said.
“No, no, this sounds fun,” Sanji said, relishing the challenge of creating a new drink. He rifled through the drawer of spices and syrups, excitement filling his chest that he could experiment. As he tried to find the expiration date on a jar of pumpkin pie spice, he heard a low chuckle and turned to see Zoro watching him still.
Sanji clutched the spice jar to his chest, feeling awkward about the scrutiny.
“You look happy,” Zoro said simply.
“Ah,” Sanji said, “I like… coming up with new drinks.”
“It’s cute,” Zoro said, before turning to the register and unlocking the cash drawer, getting ready for the store opening. Sanji, momentarily frozen by the word “cute,” shook his head when Zoro seemed content with his current task and tried to concentrate again on Luffy’s drink order.
---
“We should make this the special today,” Usopp said, eyes wide after stealing some of Luffy’s drink.
“Oh, no, that was just an experiment,” Sanji protested. He watched as Luffy downed the entire cup in one gulp, followed quickly by a tight hug from the wiry man.
“That was the best drink I’ve ever had,” Luffy said, “Can I have another?”
Luffy was bodily dragged off of Sanji by Zoro, who pointed at the chairs still stacked on the tables.
“And put your apron on properly,” Zoro sighed, untying Luffy’s apron straps and redoing them for him. Luffy ran to prepare the sitting areas, treating the process like a race for his life.
“Can I make you anything, Usopp?” Sanji asked tentatively.
Usopp shook his head, “I don’t drink coffee. Yes, very strange, why do you work at a coffeeshop, oh great Usopp? Well, the answer, dear Sanji, is that I need the money and the flexibility while I jumpstart the greatest company in the world. You’re looking at the next Iron Man of East Blue.”
“Stop yapping and fix the dishwasher, Iron Man of East Blue,” Nami said, poking her head out of the back room.
“Mi-- Nami,” Sanji said, correcting himself before he got in trouble again, “Can I make you anything?”
“I’ll just grab a drip coffee when it’s ready, thank you, Sanji,” she said, before disappearing again.
Sanji, now with nothing else to do, was again stuck standing in silence next to Zoro. Think of questions to ask him, he berated himself. What are your hobbies? How long have you worked here?
“Aren’t you going to make another drink for yourself?” Zoro asked, and Sanji remembered the Spilled Milk accident.
“Ah no, that’s okay,” Sanji said, “I just wanted to try out the machines.”
“It’s fine to make yourself a cup,” Zoro said, “We get one coffee drink every four hours when we’re on shift.”
“I’m really fine,” Sanji said, wiping at nonexistent dirt on the counter with a cloth. At his old job, they were always short-staffed, and Sanji sometimes had to handle both taking and making orders. Whenever he did work with another employee, they rarely talked, which Sanji preferred. His coworkers were never friends, just… coworkers. Sanji looked surreptitiously at the clock, hoping that they would get customers soon.
“Where in the neighborhood did you move to?” Zoro asked.
“Logue and 4th,” Sanji said, thinking about the tiny apartment with a view of the alley that he had managed to rent on short notice.
Zoro nodded, “I live around there too, Drum and 4th, you’d probably recognize the building, it’s the garish blue one.”
“Cool,” Sanji said. He sounded so lame, he sighed internally.
“If we end up on the closing shift together one of these days, let me take you to the best dive bar in the city right around the corner from me, as a welcome to the neighborhood,” Zoro grinned.
Sanji’s heart rate immediately shot up at the idea, but he nodded, trying to give Zoro a smile in return despite his dread at having to hold a conversation over a drink with nothing to distract his hands.
The bell above the front door rang. “Welcome to Thousand Sunny,” Luffy chirped, and they immediately returned to their positions, ready to greet the first customer of the day.
-----
Zoro watched their new coworker chatting animatedly with a customer about coffee bean origin. He was leaning over the counter, looking more excited than he had all day as he held out a handful of beans for the customer to touch and smell. It had taken Zoro the entire morning to get Sanji to say half as many words as he was currently saying, mouth going a mile a minute as he went on and on about farming practices.
“Oh no, I’m sorry,” Sanji said suddenly, withdrawing with a faint blush on his cheeks, “That was more than you wanted to know.”
“No, no, thank you, that was super fascinating,” the woman said as Sanji tried pouring the beans back into the jar and scattered them all over the counter instead. Zoro had to cover his mouth to hide his chuckles as Sanji muttered apologies, the woman trying to help him pick them up.
Moving quickly, Zoro grabbed a cloth and walked over, holding Sanji’s shaky hand and gently pushing him aside as he swiftly gathered the errant beans and discarded them. He smiled at Sanji, “You have some orders, Sanji, including the one from this lovely lady.”
“Oh no,” Sanji moaned, looking at a few cups that were waiting for him. He turned to the woman and bowed his head, “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said again, giggling, “I’m not in a rush.”
Sanji looked down at Zoro’s hand still on his, and Zoro let go, moving back as Sanji scrambled for the espresso maker, squinting at the first order.
“Need any help?” Zoro asked.
“No, I’m good, thank you,” Sanji replied, and Zoro was left again with nothing to do but watch him instead.
This wasn’t a particular hardship because Sanji was handsome. When Zoro had first walked in that morning, still tired and sleepy, he had paused mid-yawn when he saw Sanji working behind the counter. His long hair was drawn into a braid behind him, wisps that didn’t make it into the braid framing his face. He had had on a small smile as he worked, his face relaxed and content. Then, it had all gone downhill, Sanji tensing up whenever Zoro spoke to him, almost skittish in the way he interacted with him.
But Zoro had charmed enough stray cats in the alley behind his apartment building to have some inkling of how to encourage Sanji to open up some more.
“I’m gonna go grab some food,” Zoro said, beckoning for Usopp to take his place, “What do you all want? Sanji gets to choose since it’s his first day.” He looked toward Sanji and tried to contain his smile at the look of turmoil in the barista’s blue eyes.
“I- I don’t really know what’s around here,” Sanji stammered.
“What type of food do you like, I’ll find something.”
“What’s closest?” Sanji asked in return.
“Sanji,” Zoro grinned, putting a hand on his shoulder, “What. Type. Of. Food. Do. You. Like.”
“Sandwiches,” Sanji squeaked out.
“Any sandwich?”
“Turkey club,” Sanji responded, and Zoro nodded, taking his apron off. Sanji fumbled for his wallet and began pulling out random bills, but Zoro grabbed onto his hand, stopping him.
“It’s on us,” he said gently, using his other hand to cover Sanji’s mouth when he began to protest. Meekly, Sanji nodded, and Zoro whirled away, his own cheeks flushing at the feeling of Sanji’s lips.
-----
Sanji stared at the turkey club. Why on earth had he said turkey club? It was the first thing that came to his mind, but he had no particularly strong feelings about turkey club. Now Zoro would think it was his favorite sandwich. What an incredibly boring favorite sandwich.
He and Zoro were sitting in the backroom taking their lunch break. Nami had joined them for a bit, walking through Sanji’s contract. Then she had left to help with the lunch rush after Usopp’s panicked voice called for help with an erratic syrup dispenser.
“Is it okay?” Zoro asked, pointing at the sandwich. Sanji took a quick bite and nodded immediately. Zoro grinned, already having finished his sandwich. He sat back and surveyed Sanji some more, something Sanji noticed Zoro had been doing all morning. He wanted to go to the bathroom to check if he had something on his face.
“What do you do when you’re not obsessing about coffee?” Zoro asked.
Sanji tried to swallow quickly, coughing slightly at the larger than preferred lump going down his throat.
“I… cook a lot,” Sanji said, “Go on runs. Read books.”
Lame, lame, lame, he thought to himself, you sound so lame.
“Don’t tell Luffy you cook,” Zoro laughed, “He’ll invite himself over every night.”
Be brave, Sanji.
“I would be happy to cook for everybody,” Sanji said shyly, “My place is really small for hosting, but I can bring lunch to work once in a while.”
“Mm,” Zoro said, “I look forward to it. From the way you make coffee, I’m sure your food tastes good too.”
“What about you?” Sanji asked, emboldened by Zoro’s interest in his cooking.
“I mostly just work,” Zoro shrugged, “When I’m not here, I’m working at a buddy’s gym as a personal trainer.”
“That makes sense,” Sanji nodded, already having noted Zoro’s physique. He froze when Zoro laughed, realizing his offhand remark meant he had certainly been checking Zoro out. Flustered, he turned back to his sandwich, desperately hoping Zoro would stop looking at him.
“Come to my buddy’s gym if you’re interested,” Zoro continued, “I’ll get you a discount membership. We have great treadmills. The city isn’t that great a place to run. There’s a fucked-up sidewalk every other street.”
“Thanks, I’ll think about it,” Sanji said, knowing he would rather trip on an uneven sidewalk and fall on his face than navigate a gym. He finished his sandwich, then sat in silence as he tried to extend how long he could drink from his water bottle.
“Back to work?” Zoro asked. Sanji nodded, neatly folding his sandwich wrapper into a square. He hesitated, then said, “Thank you for lunch.”
“Sure,” Zoro said, putting his hands on Sanji’s shoulders and guiding him toward the door. Zoro was very touchy, Sanji noted, when Zoro let go and immediately wrapped an arm around Luffy’s shoulder as the smaller man reported on how many drinks they’d sold.
“Thank god,” Usopp muttered, “This guy ordered the special and I literally have no idea how to make it.”
“I’ve got it,” Sanji smiled at his slightly-frazzled coworker. He felt more comfortable around Usopp, who always had on a smile, curiosity in his eyes as he watched Sanji work. Sanji explained how to make the “Pumpkin Bomb,” as Luffy had named it, Usopp carefully taking notes.
“I’m still such a doofus at tamping down coffee,” Usopp sighed.
“Oh,” Sanji said eagerly, “There’s really no need to tamp that hard, the most important part is making sure it’s even. If you tamp too hard, the espresso will get over-extracted and bitter.”
“You really love coffee, don’t you?” Usopp said with a laugh.
“It’s… fun,” Sanji said, “To make coffee and see people perk up after their first sip. It makes me happy.” He fiddled with his apron straps, the admission sounding silly after he said it. Zoro put another cup down on the counter, the next order, and Sanji hurriedly began making it.
-----
Fuck, Zoro sighed, this was bad. He had watched the exchange between Sanji and Usopp, but the shy look on Sanji’s face after stating that seeing others enjoy his coffee made him happy had sent tremors through Zoro. Sanji was unfairly cute.
During his next break, he went to the backroom to gather himself. Nami was there, sorting through some invoices.
“How’s Sanji settling in?” she asked.
“Great, I’ve never seen customers walk away so happy.”
Nami nodded, “When I saw his resume and then saw him come in through the door, I was already ready to offer him a raise before he started.”
“That means a lot, coming from you.”
“Very funny, if you assholes drive him away, I’ll sue you.” She looked up from her notes and gave him a shrewd look, “But that’s not your intention at all, is it?”
Zoro sat down heavily next to her but ignored her question. He watched as she typed away at the calculator on her phone.
“You’re creeping me out,” she said, “Go back to staring at Sanji all day.”
“It makes him even more nervous,” Zoro sighed.
“Wow, would you imagine that,” Nami said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in her voice.
“What do you think I should do?” Zoro mused, “Every time I invite him to do something, he looks like he would rather die.”
“He’s just a little shy,” Nami said, “Give him some time.” Zoro huffed out a breath.
“If you ask him out today, and he gets so uncomfortable that he quits, I’m firing you and begging him to come back,” Nami said, “Wait at least three days. I’ll be watching you.”
“Yeah yeah,” Zoro muttered, getting to his feet, “You act like I’m some crazed monster. I know what I’m doing.”
“That’s precisely what I’m worried about,” she said, face serious, “You always know exactly what you’re doing and what you’re willing to get into, and the other person usually doesn’t.”
“Really nice to have my psychoanalyst at my place of work as well,” Zoro said, walking away.
Sanji was bending over, frowning as he cleaned coffee grounds from the nooks of the espresso maker. Zoro sighed, allowing himself one look at Sanji’s ass before he moved back to the register. If it was anybody else, Zoro would wonder if they were trying to flirt with him, but after spending less than a day with him, Zoro knew Sanji was just oblivious. If Zoro worked with anyone other than Luffy, Usopp, and Nami, he would have had to beat them away from Sanji with a stick.
“My shift is up in a bit, and yours should be too,” Zoro said. Sanji turned his head to look up at him in surprise, his bangs falling out of his eyes momentarily. There was a wrinkle on his forehead from staring too closely at his task. Zoro poked it and watched amused as Sanji’s eyes went cross-eyed before he backed away.
“I can… work more,” Sanji said, “My shifts were usually longer.”
“You’re really gunning for employee of the month, aren’t you?” Zoro laughed, “I’m sure Nami can adjust your schedule later, but you’ve worked a full day, and it’s your first day.”
Sanji fussed with his bangs and nodded, “I still have some unpacking to do…”
“Great,” Zoro said, “I’ll walk home with you.”
“Oh,” Sanji blinked, and Zoro watched him curl slightly into himself. He waited with bated breath, wondering if and how Sanji would try to shake off the companionship. Then, he saw a quiet determination flash through Sanji’s eyes, and he straightened. “That sounds great,” he said, swallowing and then giving Zoro a tiny smile.
Fuck, Zoro sighed, as his heart thudded in his chest, this was bad.
-----
Zoro waited for Sanji to put on his jacket, then they bid their coworkers goodbye. As they walked toward their respective apartments, Sanji racked his brain to think of what he could chat about with Zoro. He was turning a new leaf. Old Sanji would have made up an excuse about needing to go to the grocery store on the opposite side of town first, or stuck around the coffeeshop tidying randomly until he could walk home alone. This was New Sanji. He would make friends with his coworkers, even the scary, handsome ones.
“Sanji?”
He looked up quickly, so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice that Zoro had asked him a question.
“Sorry, did you say something?”
Zoro grinned, “I asked what your plans were for dinner.”
“Oh, I was just going to make something simple,” Sanji said, “I don’t have that much food at home yet. Maybe some grilled chicken, wild rice, roasted veggies. I have some basil, maybe make a vinaigrette.…” Sanji trailed off, trying to remember if he had any red wine vinegar.
“Doesn’t sound very simple,” Zoro chuckled.
“Ah,” Sanji said, “It’s… well, it is simple-ish.” He looked ahead for the turn onto his street. How much further until he could run into his home and escape?
“Sounds delicious though,” Zoro said, voice wistful. Sanji made a small noise, panicking and wondering if Zoro was asking to join him for dinner. Would it be rude if he didn’t invite him to dinner at this point? Was that why Zoro had asked him what his plans were? He could probably make enough for two, and his living room and kitchen area had been unpacked, it was just his bedroom that was a mess still.
“Do you… want to come over for dinner?” Sanji heard himself say.
Zoro looked at him quickly, face surprised, and Sanji realized that he must have just been trying to be polite. This was a disaster. Zoro would think he was so forward, inviting him into his house the first day they met. Sanji’s face burned. He tried to walk faster, trying to run away from this moment and say goodbye before he did something else stupid.
“Hey,” Zoro said, his voice soft. He grabbed onto Sanji’s wrist, stopping him in place. Sanji avoided his eyes until he felt warm fingers on his chin that gently turned his face up.
“I have to go to work at the gym right now,” Zoro said, voice measured like he was talking to a scared wild animal, “Otherwise, I’d be banging down your door because dinner with you sounds amazing. Thank you. Thank you for the invitation.”
Sanji nodded numbly. Zoro let go of him and stepped back, and they continued walking. Sanji snuck a look at Zoro’s face, a slight look of turmoil still on it. They stopped at the front door of Sanji’s apartment complex.
“Bye, Zoro,” Sanji said, taking out his keys. Before he could disappear, Zoro pulled out his phone.
“What’s your number?” he asked, “We can coordinate shifts and lunches and stuff.” Sanji read it out, watching Zoro input the number.
“See you tomorrow,” Zoro said, giving him a small wave before turning and jogging down the street. With a heavy sigh, Sanji turned into his apartment, looking forward to decompressing after a stressful day of work.
-----
Zoro cursed his evening shift. It had been almost painful to turn down a home-cooked meal and the chance to get to know Sanji better. Then, the look of embarrassment on Sanji’s face had felt like a twist of a knife in Zoro’s chest. He hoped he had done enough to make sure Sanji knew that he wanted to accept his invitation. Sanji had clearly been nervous about asking. If only Zoro had been able to say yes.
“You look very stormy,” Ace said when Zoro stalked into the gym, “Bad day at the coffeeshop?”
“An amazing day at the coffeeshop,” Zoro replied, “It’s here that I don’t want to be.”
“Wow, good to see you too,” Ace laughed, “You have a 7:30 and an 8:30.”
Zoro nodded, going to the employee’s room to quickly find something to eat, still upset that it wasn’t grilled chicken, wild rice, roasted veggies, and basil vinaigrette. He found a banana and a protein shake in the fridge. He hesitated, then took a picture of his meager dinner, sending the photo to Sanji with a sad face and a short message: “Unfortunately, my actual dinner.”
As he prepared for his personal training sessions, he checked his phone repeatedly, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. Finally, a response from Sanji flashed onto his screen.
Sanji: I am offended on your behalf. That is not dinner. A protein shake is barely food.
Zoro laughed, enjoying the bit of snark and personality in Sanji’s text. Sanji probably found texting easier than talking. Zoro could meet him wherever he was comfortable for now.
Zoro: I will use your expert opinion when I complain to my management.
He put his phone away, feeling happier as he went back into main room of the gym to begin his sessions.
---
“Yo, boss,” Yosaku said. The assistant superintendent of Zoro’s building poked his head out of the office and waved him over. Sighing, Zoro walked over, exhausted after work and only wanting to go to his apartment and order something for take-out.
Yosaku handed him a brown bag.
“What is this?” Zoro asked.
“Some guy came and dropped this off,” Yosaku said, “Didn’t know which one was your apartment number, but he had your phone number and stuff, so I figured he wasn’t a weird stalker. Smells hella good.”
Zoro grabbed the bag from him; packed inside were a few Tupperware boxes. He practically ripped the note off from the side, which said in neat handwriting, “This is real food. -S”
“Fuck,” Zoro sighed, “I think I’m in love.”
“Who was that guy?” Yosaku asked, “He looked pretty nervous. Stood outside looking up at the building for a good minute before I asked what he wanted.”
“Coworker,” Zoro said, “Thanks for keeping it for me. Good night, Yosaku.” He bounded up the stairs, fumbling with his keys, and running straight to his kitchen. He hurriedly shoveled a bit of each of the boxes into his mouth and moaned at the incredible flavor. He pulled out his phone and hurriedly tapped out a message.
Zoro: You’re my hero.
Sanji: Oh, I’m glad you got it. Hope it tastes okay?
Zoro: I would ask for this for my last meal if I’m on death row.
Sanji: You’re assuming I would cook for someone who is on death row.
Zoro: You wouldn’t do me one last favor even if I did commit a heinous crime?
Sanji: Only if you’re nice to me.
Zoro sat down on his couch, stretching his legs over the coffee table, no longer tired as he ate his second dinner. He held the phone close to his face, texting Sanji and enjoying the immediate responses. Sanji was funny and witty and snarky in text, a far cry from how nervous he was in person. Zoro felt like he only had a limited period of time to ingratiate himself to Sanji, unwilling even to shower, only wanting show Sanji he was eager to continue the conversation.
Finally, Sanji stopped answering, and Zoro saw that it was almost midnight. Groaning, he stood and trudged to the bathroom.
Almost as soon as his head landed on the pillow, Zoro felt himself drifting off. Normally, he would have a hard time waking in the morning, but, with the chance to see Sanji bright and early, he had a feeling his body would cooperate with him.
-----
When Sanji arrived at Thousand Sunny the next morning, he saw that Zoro was already behind the counter, placing labels in the glass display cases for the day’s pastries.
“Hey you,” Zoro smiled when he entered, and Sanji gulped. He had fallen asleep while texting Zoro the night before and felt awkward about continuing the conversation the next morning.
“Hey,” he said quietly, quickly moving to put on his apron. It had been fun chatting with Zoro. Sanji enjoyed the medium of texting, which gave him some time to think about his responses and got rid of some the pressure of conversation. He took his place behind the counter and began checking on all the equipment, though it seemed Usopp had left everything shipshape from the night before.
“I cleaned your Tupperware, it’s in the backroom. Thanks again for bringing it over. It was delicious, you really are quite the cook,” Zoro said. Sanji bit his lip and nodded, not knowing how else to take the compliment.
“You free tonight?” Zoro asked casually. Sanji looked up, eyes wide, mind automatically trying to come up with something he needed to do other than what Zoro might suggest. He forced himself to nod his head.
“Luffy’s brother is hosting a party at his place,” Zoro said, “Wanna go check it out with me?”
Sanji absolutely did not want to go to a party.
“It’ll be a good chance to get to know some cool folks in the neighborhood. I’ll introduce you,” Zoro continued, “If you’re not feeling it, we’ll just bounce. I’ll walk you home.”
Even worse, Sanji thought, if he went, he would be handcuffing Zoro to him.
As he tried to think of a way to say no, Zoro put his hand over his mouth, stopping him. His hand was extremely warm.
“Don’t say no yet,” Zoro said, “Think about it? I seriously don’t mind just going for a bit. I’m not a fan of parties myself, but Luffy’s brother is my boss at the gym and he’s a good guy. It won’t be too raucous or anything.”
Sanji nodded mutely, and Zoro retracted his hand.
“I’ll make sure it’s fun for you,” Zoro grinned, then went back to stocking the display case.
Feeling lightheaded, Sanji checked and rechecked the beans they had, before getting the drip coffee for the day started.
---
By noon, Sanji still couldn’t decide whether he was going to the party or not. Zoro hadn’t brought it up again, chatting instead about mundane things like the difference between apple crumble and apple cobbler. Sanji was beginning to feel more comfortable with Zoro, even teasing Zoro about his choice of americano every time he wanted a drink.
“It’s really just watered-down espresso,” Sanji said.
“I don’t like creamy, sweet stuff,” Zoro frowned.
“Can I try making you a drink, then? Something a bit more interesting than an americano?”
“You can try, but I’m a harsh judge,” Zoro sniffed.
“I thought my cooking was the last meal you wanted on death row?” Sanji sniffed, annoyed at the thought that someone wouldn’t enjoy his drinks.
Zoro looked at him in surprise, and Sanji wondered if he had gone too far with joking around. He prepared to apologize, but was met instead with a loud laugh, and then Zoro was grabbing him into a loose headlock, mussing up Sanji’s hair. Sanji could feel his strength in the hold and found himself melting into it. When Zoro let him go, Sanji nearly stumbled.
He touched the top of his head and noted Zoro had completely messed up his braid. Grumbling to himself, he untied his hair, and unplaited it with his fingers, checking to make sure no customers were approaching while he fixed his hair. Once his hair was out of the braid, he ran his fingers through it a few times before tying it back up into a messy bun.
When he looked up again, Zoro was staring at him. His hair probably still looked crazy.
“I’ll make you a caffe macchiato,” he said, turning back to the espresso maker, “It’s just got a little dollop of foamed milk. It’s actually my favorite espresso drink, but most people don’t know to order it.” He paused when Zoro suddenly reached toward him and tucked an errant strand of his hair behind his ear. He stared at Zoro in surprise.
“You’re going to burn your hair or something,” Zoro muttered, “Working close to the steam thing and all that.”
“Um, thanks,” Sanji said, as Zoro gave him a tiny nod, then returned to work.
-----
“Come whenever, it’ll be fun,” Zoro said, waving as Sanji took out his keys in front of his apartment. He had given him the details of the party after Sanji said he might go, but Zoro had 30/70 odds on Sanji actually showing up. Zoro snuck a glance behind him and saw Sanji still struggling with the lock to the front door, tucking his hair behind his ear to get it out of his face. A slight shudder ran through Zoro’s body at the sight. When Sanji had first decided to turn Thousand Sunny into a hair model photoshoot, Zoro’s brain almost stopped working. Long, golden strands, nudged into place by Sanji’s thin fingers. It was truly unfair how attractive Sanji was, and just as unfair that he seemed to have no idea.
Zoro stopped by a store to grab some beer, then headed to Ace’s, knowing his friend always prepared plenty of liquor at his parties and Zoro would want to squirrel a bottle away before others arrived.
---
“Yo,” Ace said when he opened the door, “The recluse shows up.”
“I’m not a recluse,” Zoro said, rolling his eyes.
“Yes you are, and you only show up at parties when someone you’re interested in is coming. Who is it this time?”
“I’m just here for your fine company,” Zoro said, pushing past him and sitting down next to Luffy on the couch.
“Who’s Zoro interested in this time, Luff?” Ace asked.
“Oh, probably Sanji,” Luffy said airily, “Zoro won’t stop staring at him at work. He just started yesterday.” He yelped when Zoro elbowed him hard in the side in punishment.
“Ah,” Ace said, “Hence how amazing a day it was at the coffeeshop yesterday.”
“He’s probably not going to show,” Zoro sighed, taking out his phone and checking to see if he had any messages.
“Too cool for parties?”
“Too shy,” Zoro chuckled, “Prefers reading or talking about books to bumping shoulders with the masses.”
“Well, you don’t know how to read, so good luck wooing your Sanji, bud.”
Zoro threw the cap to his beer bottle at Ace, who caught it easily and went to throw it away, laughing at his own joke as he left.
---
An hour into the party, Sanji still hadn’t shown up, and Zoro was beginning to lose hope. He was currently being roped into conversation by a tipsy friend of Luffy’s. Cody or Toby or something. He glanced down surreptitiously at his watch. If Sanji didn’t show in a few more minutes, he would head out and try again another time. It was probably too soon to expect Sanji to want to go to a house party.
“I’ve gotta go,” he said, patting Rudy or Coda or whatever on the shoulder and making a swift exit. He waved at Ace on the way out, who gave him a curious head tilt. Zoro shrugged in response and opened the door.
Standing at the door, looking like he was about to throw up, was Sanji.
“Oh,” he said, stepping back and nearly falling down the steps. Zoro reached out and righted him, gladness filling his chest as he gazed at Sanji. He had braided his hair again, dressed in a nice collared shirt and black pants, a light jacket in his hand.
“Are you heading out?” Sanji asked, voice rising slightly in panic.
“No,” Zoro said quickly, “Was just gonna get some fresh air.” Sanji still looked a bit shaken, so Zoro stepped out, closing the door behind him, the sounds of the party now muted.
“I’m sorry I’m so late,” Sanji said, “I didn’t know what to bring.” He held up a bottle of wine.
“I’m not an expert in wine, but I’m gonna guess that’s too nice for the people at this party,” Zoro said, “There’s plenty of alcohol, let’s hide that somewhere in the house and drink it ourselves later.” Sanji laughed at this, a bright sound that made Zoro want to laugh as well.
“I’m glad you came,” he said, “You wanna come in? I can introduce you to a few people.”
Sanji’s expression turned nervous again, but he nodded, clutching the bottle of wine to his chest. Putting a reassuring hand behind his back, Zoro guided him into the house.
-----
It was fairly noisy in the house, some sort of loud dance music played from one of the rooms. Sanji was instantly filled with dread when he saw the groups of people chatting. He remembered a college party he had gone to where he wandered in, trying to figure out how to insert himself into conversations, before eventually fleeing out the back door.
Zoro’s hand between his shoulder blades was comforting as his coworker guided him to one of the smaller rooms. He sat Sanji down next to Usopp, who welcomed him warmly.
“Gonna get you a drink,” Zoro said quietly, “Be right back.” Sanji watched him go, slipping between other attendees until he disappeared, and turned to greet Usopp and meet his girlfriend. Moments later, Zoro was pressing a cup into his hand and sat down on the narrow couch as well, squeezing up against Sanji.
---
Eventually, Usopp was dragged away by another mechanic to take a look at some contraption Ace’s roommate had bought at a flea market. Sanji clutched his cup, sipping gingerly, and turned to Zoro. He was leaning back, an arm outstretched behind Sanji on the couch, and hadn’t said a word while Sanji peppered Usopp with questions about his machine shop.
Sanji scootched over to give Zoro some more room, simultaneously worrying that his coworker was bored.
“How’s the drink?” Zoro asked.
“It’s good, very… gin-y,” Sanji said.
“Ace adds a lot of alcohol to his punches,” Zoro chuckled.
“No one has ever complained about my punch.”
Sanji glanced up to see a dark-haired freckled man behind them, looking down at Sanji with curious eyes.
“Ah,” Zoro sighed, “Sanji, this is Ace, the host of the party and Luffy’s brother. Ace, Sanji.”
Tentatively holding his hand out for a handshake, Sanji nearly let out an embarrassing squeak when Ace pulled him in for a hug.
“Sorry for everything my brother and this big lump probably put you through at Thousand Sunny,” he said when he let go.
“N-no, they’re great,” Sanji managed to say.
“I’m glad you could make it. Zoro was pretty nervous that you wouldn’t show.”
Sanji shot a look at Zoro, who glared up at Ace. “Don’t you have guests to entertain?” Zoro asked.
“Am I not entertaining my favorite guests right now?” Ace asked, feigning hurt as he placed a hand to his heart.
Sanji giggled, watching the two of them bicker. The gin was perhaps getting to him; everything Zoro and Ace said to each other seemed particularly funny. Ace eventually left after extracting a promise from Sanji to visit their gym, and Zoro led Sanji toward the drinks table.
“Can I make you something?” Sanji asked, peering at all the alcohols and mixers, bottles of all shapes and sizes strewn around the kitchen.
“Are you a bartender too?” Zoro asked.
“Mm, I was for a bit,” Sanji said, recalling with some trepidation his stint making drinks and having to make small talk with customers as they scrutinized him. The coffeeshop made him feel safer, able to hide behind the machines, the loud noises, the cheerful background music. He felt Zoro’s eyes on him as he made him a drink, and hoped what he managed to cobble together would be good.
Sanji pushed the cup toward Zoro, who took a sip, eyebrows raising nearly to his hairline after he drank.
“I… really did not expect you to be able to make something this good from the random bulk alcohols Ace gets for these parties,” Zoro said, raising the glass toward Sanji before downing the rest of the cup.
“That’s meant to be sipped,” Sanji protested.
“Whoops,” Zoro grinned, “Can you make me another?”
He sighed, but complied, making Zoro a double the second time around.
---
Sanji was beginning to lose his voice. He couldn’t remember the last time he talked so much in such a short span of time, oftentimes having to raise his voice to be heard over the music. He was having fun, somehow managing to land on a topic he knew something about with each of the other guests that Zoro introduced him to.
Whenever Sanji felt like he was coming to the end of a conversation and feeling the inevitable worry of “how do I get out of this” or “the other person probably wants to leave and is trying to be polite,” Zoro would find a way to extract them. His coworker stayed with him the whole night, a reassuring presence at his side. Whenever he left to use the restroom or grab one or both of them a drink, Zoro always did so when Sanji was in the middle of a lovely conversation, never leaving Sanji alone by himself.
“How you feeling?” Zoro asked after the museum curator that Sanji had been chatting with, Robin, left for the evening.
“Great,” Sanji said, gratefully drinking the glass of water that Zoro had transitioned to giving him.
“Tired?”
“A little,” Sanji admitted.
“We can leave whenever,” Zoro said, “It’s close to 1. I sort of expected you to turn into a pumpkin or something at midnight.”
Sanji stared at him in shock, “It is?” Zoro nodded, an amused look on his face as Sanji looked down at his phone.
“I should go,” Sanji said, “It’s okay if you want to stay.”
“Nah,” Zoro said, “I’ll walk you home. I have a morning class at the gym tomorrow, so I should get some sleep.”
Sanji felt his heart sink at the idea that his and Zoro’s shifts wouldn’t line up the next day. It already felt like he’d worked with Zoro for weeks. He followed Zoro through the various rooms and put his jacket on before they exited into the cool evening.
“Um, Zoro,” Sanji said, “Thanks for… staying with me.”
Zoro laughed, “You didn’t need my help, Sanji, you charmed everybody you talked to.”
“N-no, I just babbled,” Sanji said, “I… I was really nervous. It made me feel more confident that you were with me. It felt… safe.” He stopped, feeling embarrassed.
“I’m happy to hear that,” Zoro said softly, “I really am.”
“So, um, I guess, maybe I’ll see you tomorrow,” Sanji said when they reached his apartment.
“I don’t have any shifts tomorrow,” Zoro said, a grimace appearing on his face.
“Ah okay,” Sanji said, embarrassed and feeling like he was being needy.
“But… come by the gym after your shift,” Zoro said, his eyes almost pleading in the glow of the nearby streetlight, “For a little bit. I’d like to see you.”
Sanji felt himself flush from the roots of his hair down to his toes. He looked down at his keychain and nodded, not trusting himself to say anything. Zoro flashed him a smile and left.
When Sanji made it to his room, he collapsed onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling.
I’d like to see you.
The room sounded stiflingly quiet, in stark contrast to the party he had just come from, which he had attended with the most charismatic man he had ever known. Sanji covered his face with his hands, trying to force his heart to stop thudding in his chest. He liked Zoro, he really liked Zoro. But Zoro was just trying to be nice to him, as his new coworker. He shouldn’t get his hopes up that anything more could happen.
-----
Once again, Zoro was going insane waiting for Sanji.
“His shift should have ended half an hour ago,” Zoro muttered to no one in particular. He was folding towels, glancing at the door every few seconds. Zoro considered how needy it would be to text Sanji and ask if he was actually coming. His coworker’s ability to make him second-guess himself was astonishing.
He lunged for his phone when he saw a message pop up on the screen, sending the stack of towels he had so painstakingly folded to the ground. He ignored them.
Sanji: Sorry! I’m on the way, stayed a little late to help Nami with the next coffee bean order.
Cursing his boss, Zoro texted back, “I’ll be here,” and began refolding the towels.
---
When Sanji finally showed up, dressed in shorts and a running jacket, Zoro had to force his eyes away from his long, pale legs. Ace waved him into the gym when Sanji tried to ask about a one-time fee, giving Zoro a wink when Sanji turned away from him.
“Welcome to my kingdom, Impel Down Gym,” Zoro said, extending his arms when they walked into the high-ceilinged main room. There were multiple levels to the gym, each with specialty work out rooms and training areas.
“It’s fancy,” Sanji replied, neck craning to look up.
“I have half an hour left in my shift,” Zoro said, “Why don’t you try out whatever you want, and I’ll come find you later?”
Sanji nodded and headed toward the treadmills.
Zoro kept an eye on him as he finished his shift. Ace would give him shit about how long he took to organize the towels that day, but it was well worth it to watch Sanji run. A perfect running form, eating up the distance on the treadmill that Zoro could tell was set to a fairly high incline. He didn’t stop running, didn’t even look like he was breathing hard the few times Zoro passed him.
When Zoro came to see him (technically five minutes before his shift officially ended but Ace would understand), Sanji had run more than five miles. Spotting Zoro, he pressed a few buttons on the treadmill and slowed down to a quick walk. Zoro propped his head on the handlebar and smiled up at him.
“You really are a runner.”
Sanji shrugged, taking a long gulp of water, before wiping his forehead with a towel.
“I’ve been running for most my life,” he said, “I usually just zone out or listen to audiobooks.”
“Ever done any sports? Soccer?” Zoro asked.
“I—” Sanji began, opening and closing his mouth a few times before saying, “I’ve never really done team sports.”
“You wanna try any?” Zoro asked, “A bunch of us at the coffeeshop are in some league or another. Bowling, basketball, just stuff for fun.”
“Maybe,” Sanji said, and Zoro knew that was the best he would get out of Sanji for now.
“Let me show you the rest of the gym,” Zoro said, pulling Sanji down from the treadmill, “We’ve got the biggest collection of machines and free weights in the city, swimming lanes, steam rooms…”
---
For the next half hour, Zoro led Sanji through the gym, trying to hide his smile watching Sanji try to figure out the weight machines and relishing being able to correct Sanji’s form for some of the free weights (Sanji was strong but had clearly never set foot in a gym his entire life).
“Steam room?” Zoro ventured finally, when Sanji collapsed onto the ground after stubbornly forcing himself through a series of pull-up exercises Zoro taught him.
“I didn’t bring a change of clothes,” Sanji said, cheeks turning pink.
“I keep a bunch of spare clothes at the gym, you can borrow mine,” Zoro said.
“Um,” Sanji whispered, turning dark red now.
“Some other time,” Zoro said, realizing he was pushing Sanji, and Sanji nodded gratefully.
“You go ahead, I’ll just head home,” Sanji said.
“Nah, what I would really like right now is some food,” Zoro said, “You must be hungry too? There’s a bunch of food trucks in the park nearby.”
Sanji nodded, putting his jacket back on and following Zoro out of the gym. Ace waved at them as they left, smirking at Zoro, who rolled his eyes in response.
“So what did you think?” Zoro asked, “Not bad, right?”
“It was good,” Sanji said, “I’ve always felt silly in gyms because I don’t know how the machines work and the people in the free weight sections are kind of intimidating.” He chuckled nervously.
“Oh yeah, they’re mostly shitheads,” Zoro said, “But honestly, you’re probably stronger than most of them. Some of the regulars were watching you do squats jealously.” Zoro knew this because he alternated his attention between staring at Sanji and glaring at anybody watching Sanji.
“Nobody was watching me,” Sanji giggled.
“You honestly have no idea, do you?” Zoro said, “The effect you have on people. It’s hard to stop watching you, Sanji.” He froze, certain he had said too much. It was a bit too dark to get a clear look at Sanji’s face, his eyes shadowed by his bangs. His hair was in a loose ponytail by his neck, strands of it damp with sweat but drying, curling at his nape.
“My favorite food truck here is the yakisoba,” Zoro said quickly, pointing at the cheery pavilion up ahead, “Let me know what you want. It’ll be my treat for the dinner you made me.”
“I’ll try the yakisoba,” Sanji said, eyes lighting up. His face, now illuminated by the string lights, was still a bit uncomfortable, but he had a smile on his face now as his eyes darted around the various offerings.
“Why don’t you grab us a table?” Zoro said, “I’ll be back in a sec.”
-----
“You honestly have no idea, do you? The effect you have on people. It’s hard to stop watching you, Sanji.”
Sanji flushed again as he thought about what Zoro had said. They had had a normal, comfortable dinner. Zoro had spent most of it telling Sanji about other hidden food gems around the city. They had walked home together, and Sanji was now curled up on his bed after a long shower, muscles pleasantly sore from his workout.
For a moment, he allowed himself a tiny hope that maybe… maybe Zoro was interested in him. That this incredibly handsome, fit man wanted to spend time with him, watched him. Sanji tried to imagine them together, putting a cool hand to his burning face as he thought about how much he enjoyed Zoro’s company.
Then, in the space between breaths, he remembered a voice hissing at him, “You’re lucky you have me.” Sanji shuddered, thinking back to Pudding’s words just before she broke up with him. A diatribe about how he wasn’t good enough to her, how she could have dated any of his brothers instead.
Zoro was just being friendly, trying to get more business for the gym where he worked.
He drifted off, unease in his chest as he thought about Pudding again, about Yonji and Niji and Ichiji, about Judge, about not being good enough. Just before he fell asleep, he felt a buzz under his pillow and opened his eyes blearily.
A text from Zoro.
Zoro: We have the same shift tomorrow at Thousand Sunny. If you’re free tomorrow night, can I take you to dinner at the French place we talked about?
Instantly awake, Sanji stared at the message. He hesitated, fingers over the keyboard on his phone, trying to decide what to say, trying to decide what he wanted. His phone buzzed again.
Zoro: Sleep well
Sanji turned the phone over and buried his face in his pillow, feeling as though his cheeks might set it on fire. He would respond in the morning, he decided, and fell into a fitful sleep.
---
Sanji arrived at the Thousand Sunny half an hour before his shift started, still feeling jumpy from last night’s text. He had yet to respond, deciding he would make himself a coffee, get everything set up in the coffeeshop, and spend some time on his answer.
Instead, when he fumbled with the keys, he heard a rap from the inside and looked up to see Zoro standing at the door, raising an eyebrow at him.
“You’re here early,” Sanji squeaked when Zoro opened the door.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Zoro shrugged. Sanji’s chest fell at this, wondering if his lack of response had kept Zoro up.
“Luffy lives next door to me and kept screeching at 2 AM while watching some soccer game,” Zoro sighed, rubbing at his eyes. He stretched, exposing a thin line of tanned skin at his waist, which Sanji snuck a guilty look at, before the cashier moving back behind the counter.
“I’ll make you a drink, double shot espresso,” Sanji said quickly, hurrying to drop his bag in the back room and putting his apron on. He was vaguely aware of Zoro looking at him as he made the drink, and spent a particularly long time waiting for the espresso maker to stop dripping so he could gather his thoughts.
He handed the cup to Zoro, who took it gratefully, then fiddled with his apron strings.
“Um, about your text,” he said quietly. He looked up to see Zoro watching him carefully. He hesitated, unsure of how to frame his question. What did you mean by it? How should I take it? Why me?
“It’s a date,” Zoro said after the pause went on for an uncomfortable amount of time, “I’m asking you on a date. Because I like you.”
Sanji stared at him. Zoro looked back at him evenly.
“We’ve just met,” Sanji managed to say, “How can you like me?”
“It’s very easy, as it turns out,” Zoro responded, “Nami said I had to wait three days to ask you out, so I waited three days.” He paused and counted on his fingers before admitting, “Almost three days.”
“All I’ve done these past few days is act awkwardly around you,” Sanji said, looking down.
“That’s not true, and also I think you’re cute,” Zoro said, “You make me smile, you make me laugh, you make me feel all weird when I’m watching you. What more do I need to ask you out?”
It couldn’t be that simple, Sanji frowned. Zoro didn’t know anything about his background, whether he came from a good family, what his future job potential was. All they’d done was talk about food and things to do in the city. Surely, Sanji had to have done more to be asked out.
He blinked when Zoro snapped his fingers in front of his face.
“You’re overthinking it, Sanji,” Zoro said quietly, “Let’s just look at the question in front of us. Do you want to have dinner at that French place with me?”
“Yes,” Sanji found himself saying.
“Then we’re going,” Zoro laughed, “If it sounds fun, then come with me. Even if you don’t like me the way I like you or will never like me back, I want to go with you. Don’t worry about me, just pay attention to what you want. We’ll figure everything else out on the way.”
Zoro went back to work, a small smile on his face as he slowly stacked the day’s pastries in the display case. He was so… sure of himself. Are you sure about me? But Zoro had told him not to think about that kind of stuff, so Sanji turned to the coffee beans and began preparing the drip coffee for the day.
---
“Sanji, come here for a sec.”
He jumped at Nami’s voice and immediately began panicking that he had done something wrong and was about to be fired. He hurried to the back room to join her. Zoro was there as well, taking a break and watching as she sorted through Thousand Sunny’s mail.
“Is something wrong, Nami?” he asked nervously.
“I’m trying to put together a W-2 for you. Sanji Black doesn’t appear to exist in the IRS database, so I was wondering if you have another name I should be using.”
Sanji made a small noise of distress, and Zoro immediately looked up.
“I… I changed my name a few weeks ago,” he said, “I’m going to get a new driver’s license and passport soon, I can do that right away—”
“It’s okay, Sanji,” Nami said, tilting her head, “It’s no rush, I was just trying to make sure I had all the tax withholding done properly. Just let me know when everything goes through.”
“I’m sorry to have caused trouble for you. I can… I can explain,” Sanji stammered, feeling his cheeks warming up. He should have told Nami that this was a possibility when he first applied, told her that he might still show up as a Vinsmoke.
“So Sanji isn’t your real name?” Zoro asked loudly, interrupting his train of thought.
“N-no, Sanji is,” he answered.
“Hmmm, but what if it isn’t?” Zoro mused, “I’ll call you Curly, just in case.”
“Curly?” Sanji spluttered.
Zoro stood and walked over to him, grinning as his finger traced the curve of Sanji’s eyebrow. Sanji flushed and stepped back, glaring at him.
“Curly Black,” Zoro chuckled, patting him on the shoulder and walking out of the room. Sanji watched him go, incredulous at the nonsensical nickname he had just been assigned and forgetting for a brief moment why he had been called to the back room. He heard a giggle and turned around.
“You don’t look as distressed as you were a few seconds ago,” she said, leaning her head on her palm, “It really is okay, Sanji. We’ll get the paperwork figured out. You’re Sanji Black to us. Or Curly now, I suppose.”
“Please don’t call me that, Nami,” Sanji moaned.
“No, I won’t, that seems like Zoro’s personal nickname for you. I wouldn’t want to intrude,” Nami laughed.
-----
“Curly,” Zoro said, delighting in Sanji’s response, which was to narrow his eyes and huff at the espresso maker. Zoro had no idea why Sanji had reacted the way he did to Nami’s inquiry about his name, but whenever Sanji seemed to be stressing about it, Zoro would interrupt him with his new nickname. Annoyance was better than the sad look Sanji sometimes had on when he was deep in thought. Why or from what Sanji had changed his name from didn’t matter one iota to Zoro, and Zoro personally thought it shouldn’t matter to Sanji either.
“Curly,” he repeated, “Can you make me a drink?” He knew this would get a response from the barista.
“What would you like?” Sanji asked, turning to him, eyes excited at the opportunity to make something for someone else. Sanji really was going to ruin Zoro for any other person.
“You choose?” Zoro asked.
“Let me try something on you,” Sanji said, pulling open a drawer and taking out some jars. “Sea salt with a hint of maple. I think it won’t be too sweet, light with a touch of creaminess.” Zoro just nodded, not really caring what Sanji ended up making, and simply enjoying the somewhat frenzied look on his face as he tugged at his braid and began muttering to himself about ratios.
---
The end of their shifts finally arrived, and Zoro waited impatiently as Sanji finished tidying up for Usopp. When Sanji hung up his apron, then looked around for something more to do, Zoro practically dragged Sanji out the door.
“I need to change,” Sanji squeaked, “I can’t go just like this.”
“Why?” Zoro frowned, looking Sanji up and down. He was dressed as he usually was, in a button-up, slacks, and fancy pointy shoes. He looked like he could walk into the headquarters of GQ and blend in perfectly fine.
“I need at least a blazer,” Sanji said, “If it’s a nice French restaurant—”
“It’s a nice French restaurant run by not-very-nice chefs and servers,” Zoro said, “Believe me, you do not need to get dressed up for this place. You look incredible.”
Sanji turned red, and Zoro congratulated himself as he set off down the street toward the Baratie. He surreptitiously turned his Maps app on. He didn’t think he needed navigation, but he didn’t want to get lost with Sanji by his side.
His companion said nothing for most of the walk, which made Zoro slightly nervous, but Sanji’s eyes lit up when they arrived at the restaurant with vibrant blue-painted wooden door.
“Shall we?” Zoro asked.
“Let me take a look at the menu first,” Sanji said.
“Not sure you want to eat here?”
“No, I just… I feel bad making servers wait and I take a long time to decide,” Sanji said, peering at the menu in the display case outside, face obscured by his bangs. Zoro let him take his time, standing protectively closer to Sanji as various other patrons brushed past them to enter the restaurant.
“Okay,” Sanji said, nodding determinedly, “The bouillabaisse. Or maybe the poulet a la pistache.” He frowned, looking back at the menu.
“We’ll get both and you take the one you like better,” Zoro said, taking his arm gently and leading him in.
They were brought to a table by a window. Sanji looked out happily at the street, face lit by candlelight, and Zoro was momentarily at a loss for words.
“This reminds me of a restaurant close to my mom’s office,” Sanji said, touching the coarse linen tablecloth, “I would visit her during the day sometimes, and we would go for lunch, just the two of us.”
“Is she still back home?”
“No, she and my dad got divorced a few months ago. She moved overseas, sends me pictures of her adventures all the time. It looks like she’s having a lot of fun.” Sanji looked down at his glass of water wistfully.
Zoro wondered how much more he could probe. Sanji seemed in the mood to talk about himself, which was a first in the brief time Zoro had known him, but Zoro still wanted to tread carefully around topics that might make Sanji clam up again.
“What was the restaurant you ate at with your mom?”
“It was a French bistro called Cosette’s,” Sanji said cheerfully, “They served amazing coffee too, which is what first got me interested in being a barista. I should text Chef Cosette soon, let her know where I ended up and see how the restaurant is doing…”
Feeling strangely possessive, Zoro was happy when they were interrupted by the waiter returning to take their orders. Sanji looked down at the menu, searching for the two dishes he had picked out and muttering apologies to the waiter.
“The fish stew thing and the chicken,” Zoro drawled, as Sanji’s ears turned red.
Sanji looked up to glare at him before turning to the waiter and saying quickly, “The bouillabaisse and the poulet a la pistache, please.” He blinked, as if surprised that he had managed to get the words out to the waiter.
“Very good,” the waiter grunted, taking the menus from them and stomping away.
“You knew what the dishes were, why did you need to go checking the menu?” Zoro laughed.
“I forgot. My mind went blank,” Sanji muttered, “Until you reminded me.”
Pleased, Zoro propped his head on his hand and watched Sanji fold and unfold his napkin into smaller and smaller triangles.
“Before our food comes, let me make you something,” Zoro said, reaching for Sanji’s napkin and beginning a fold Koushiro had taught as a child, turning the white linen into a makeshift rabbit. He handed it back to Sanji, who giggled, and placed it in his lap.
“I can do mean balloon animals too,” Zoro said, making an exaggerated hand flourish.
“Do you have another job as an entertainer at children’s birthday parties?” Sanji asked dryly.
“My third job is helping out at my foster father’s dojo, where he does, in fact, host children’s birthday parties. Nothing like a pack of five-year old’s running around with wooden swords,” Zoro sighed.
“You work a lot,” Sanji said.
“I like keeping busy,” Zoro shrugged, “And I’m saving up. The dream is one day to have my own gym, small one, for dedicated regulars where I can tailor classes and equipment to what they want. Impel Down is fine, but it’s a bit corporate.”
Sanji smiled at this. “I’d go to your gym,” he said shyly.
“Yeah?” Zoro said, “Okay, I’m going to rent a space tomorrow. You can be my first customer. You’ll never have to worry about how the equipment works because the boss himself will show you.”
Zoro watched as Sanji relaxed more and more over the course of dinner—beautifully warm rolls fresh out of the oven with sage butter, gorgeously-plated entrees that smelled and tasted incredible. Sanji let his guard down bit by bit, telling Zoro how he wanted to one day start his own café, something like the Baratie and Cosette’s, about the books he listened to on his runs, about the aquarium he kept in his apartment full of small neon tetras and curious plants called marimos.
“They look like you,” Sanji giggled. Zoro, too entranced by Sanji’s grinning face, ignored the tease. Sanji sopped up the last bit of bouillabaisse with a bit of bread, and Zoro realized that their dinner was coming to an end, as much as he disliked the idea.
“I need to use the restroom,” Sanji said, standing up and looking around.
“That way,” Zoro said, pointing. When Sanji was gone, Zoro picked up the linen rabbit that Sanji had put back on the table. Was he making headway? He sighed. Sanji looked like he was having a good time, but he still didn’t seem interested in calling their dinner a date or mention Zoro’s confession from earlier that day. Maybe Zoro had been too casual about that, trying to play it cool that morning while his heart was beating out of his chest.
When Sanji returned and took a few slow sips of his water, Zoro looked around for a waiter to get the bill.
“I already got it,” Sanji whispered.
“You—” Zoro said, frowning, “I said I was taking you to dinner.”
“You treated me to dinner yesterday,” Sanji said, face resolute, “I wanted to treat you tonight. On our date. If that’s still… okay.” His eyes looked away immediately when Zoro stared at him, wondering if he misheard.
“Just so we’re clear, this is a date,” Zoro said, “It’s not just payback for yesterday.”
Sanji nodded, still not meeting Zoro’s eyes.
“I’ll walk you home,” Zoro said, standing and grasping Sanji’s hand. He didn’t resist when Zoro led him outside. In a sudden movement, right in front of the blue-painted door, Zoro leaned forward, lips an inch from Sanji’s.
“Can I kiss you on this date?” Zoro breathed out.
After what felt like an eternity, Sanji nodded, and Zoro kissed him, chaste and sweet, until Sanji gently pushed him away and hustled away from the Baratie down the street.
“Running away?” Zoro laughed, catching up to him, “Was it that bad?”
“No,” Sanji said quickly, “I’m just… embarrassed.”
Elated, Zoro wrapped Sanji’s fingers in his own as they walked back their respective homes.
-----
Sanji touched his fingers to his lips, staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom. Zoro had kissed him again when they arrived at Sanji’s house, before flashing him a grin and heading back down the street.
They were dating now? Sanji and the most handsome man on earth. Dinner had passed in a flash, the memory a jumble in Sanji’s head of warmth, laughter, good food. Zoro kept their conversation flowing smoothly, making it easy for Sanji to talk about himself, his hobbies, his dreams. Zoro didn’t make him feel ridiculous for naming and obsessing over his fish, for dreaming a small dream of owning his own café rather than running a conglomerate. In fact, Zoro had a dream similar to his own, one that made his grey eyes shine.
Sanji pulled his covers over his head, almost distraught at how happy he felt. Three days ago, he had spilled coffee all over the Thousand Sunny floor as soon as Zoro said a word. Since then, Zoro had pulled Sanji into his orbit as easily as breathing, and somehow along the way made Sanji feel like he was… worthy.
His phone vibrated, and his heart leapt into his throat at the message from Zoro.
Zoro: Can’t sleep.
Sanji: Me neither.
Zoro: Meet me at Thousand Sunny.
Sanji: ?
Sanji: When?
Zoro: Now
Sanji: Now?!
Zoro: Unless you’re too scared to venture into the dark.
Sanji: Fine.
Zoro: :) See you soon
---
When Sanji made it to the coffeeshop, the lights were already on inside. Zoro pulled him into a hug, kissed him on the forehead, then went to roll down the blinds. Sanji, still at a loss, looked around and saw two wine glasses and a few bottles of wine sitting on a low coffee table nearby.
“We didn’t have any alcohol tonight,” Zoro said, “That had to be remedied.” He began pouring Sanji a glass. “I was going to invite you over to my place, but you’re like a skittish cat, so I figured neutral ground would work better.”
“A skittish what?” Sanji spluttered but accepted the glass and tried to decide where to sit. Zoro made the decision for him, plopping down on one of the couches and patting the cushion next to him.
“I was so shocked when I walked through the door a few days ago and saw you standing there at the espresso machine, concentrating so hard on your creation,” Zoro said, beckoning toward the counter, “Felt like the witch had answered all my prayers at once, a competent coworker, and a cute one.”
“Please stop,” Sanji muttered, embarrassed, tentatively resting back against Zoro’s broad chest. Zoro tucked his bangs behind his ear, then began stroking his hair slowly. The lingering smell of coffee in the Thousand Sunny, the soft jazz music, and Zoro’s warmth behind him were lulling him to sleep. Zoro took the glass of wine from him, then gripped his chin and tilted his head up for a kiss.
“Happy that you moved to East Blue?” he asked.
“Still not sure,” Sanji replied, chuckling at Zoro’s immediate frown.
“Well, I’m happy you moved to East Blue,” Zoro said.
“I still have time to make you think otherwise,” Sanji sighed.
“Hey,” Zoro said, knocking his forehead against the side of Sanji’s head, “You act like a demon is going to burst out of you any second. Let me deal with this supposed demon, Sanji. You don’t have to run from me because of it. I’ll convince you, sooner or later, of how special you are, how beautiful this wallflower blooms. Okay?”
“Okay,” Sanji said, the weight of Zoro’s words like a comforting blanket, “I might put up a fight.”
Zoro laughed and Sanji could feel the sensation of it on his back.
“I like a good fight,” Zoro said, handing Sanji back his wine only after sneaking another kiss.