Archive of Our Own ^beta

It's not that Sanji doesn't notice.

It would be rather impressive if he didn't really, considering the sheer amount of time he spends in his galley and kitchen. But at some point… well, Zoro sat down for a nap on the lumpy blue couch in the galley and now?

Now Zoro always naps on the lumpy blue couch in the galley.

Sanji can hand on heart say that he doesn't think he's ever seen Zoro there when no one else is in the galley, but then again Sanji is always in the galley. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, the multitude of snacks in between. The galley has and always will be his own private solace... even if a certain shitty swordsman has decided that its also the best place for his regular daily naps.

Not that Sanji begrudges for him that. Zoro does take most of the night watches and his bunk is barely slept in on the days that he isn't up in the crows nest. No, Sanji doesn't think any less of Zoro for sleeping most of his days away, however he would prefer it much more if he stuck to the crows nest or the deck as he usually does.

Especially because this is very much a new thing. Prior to Wano, Sanji doesn't think he ever saw this much of Zoro. Intentional or not, they never really have been the types to travel in each other's spaces, nor to linger if they ever do. Sanji stays in the galley, Zoro trains in the crows nest, and the only time they ever broach those carefully laid down lines created well back in the East Blue is when there is some form of food or duty involved.

But since Wano, Sanji has seen more of Zoro than he ever really has before. He's always just... there. Napping on the couch in the galley, perched at the bar watching Sanji work, cleaning his swords on the floor by the door leading to the infirmary, sat at the table and listening to Sanji ramble on about his latest dish. He's everywhere, he’s constant, and Sanji just doesn't know what to make of it.

Not that he hasn't adjusted. Of course he has, he's still himself despite everything that has happened since Punk Hazard. Adapting is what he does. He's gotten used to Zoro's presence, feels nearly comfortable in it now instead of being tense and ready for whatever the swordsman may throw at him. It's kind of nice in a roundabout sort of way. Sanji has always been used to the clash and clamour of a kitchen, of too many people squashed into one room all with the same tasks, the friendly banter and chaos that had come with it. That had changed when he joined the Straw Hats, something that had taken time to grow used too. He's often alone in the galley, the only sounds being the clanging of pots and the gentle warble from the tone dial that he sometimes plays from its spot on the bar.

It can be lonely, he'll admit to himself, but he's never made mention to anyone on the crew. Some suspect, he thinks, as Brook's presence increased after the disaster that was Whole Cake, and both Nami and Robin tend to linger a little more these days at the end of each meal.

Then there's Zoro. That bloody Marimo.

Sanji sighs from where he's currently peeling potatoes over the sink, the mountain of unpeeled ones slowly dwindling down into two different piles, one of skins and one of actual potato. He's been here for a while now, still getting used to having to compensate for Jinbei's larger appetite that rivals some of the crews, and the entire time since breakfast only a couple hours ago, there's been that one consistent lump over on the galley couch.

At least he's not snoring this time, Sanji thinks to himself as he glances over to see Zoro's face is smushed into the space between the armrest and the seating cushion, his arms folded loosely over his chest as his legs hang over the armrest at the other end. He's twisted up, not fully on his back nor on his side, and Sanji genuinely wonders how the other man can look so relaxed in a position even he would struggle with. Comfortable he must be though, considering he hasn't moved an inch since he handed Sanji his empty bowl of porridge and proceeded to drag himself over to the couch, the lingering tiredness of a full nights watch heavy on his shoulders.

Not that he's been watching Zoro. Of course not. But Sanji has noticed each time he huffs in his sleep, when his arms had started to slide down from their previously taunt position, and when the slow lazy kick of his leg had stilled as Zoro had slipped into a deeper sleep than his usual doze.

No. Sanji hasn't noticed any of that.

"Stupid Marimo," Sanji mutters under his breath as he turns back to his pile of potatoes. He needs to focus on the food, not the idiot on the couch, even if Zoro chooses then to let out a small grumble that has Sanji glancing over to see him scrunch up his face as he presses his nose into one of Nami's decorative pillows.

It doesn't make Sanji's chest warm. It doesn't.

Zoro falls still again and Sanji continues peeling his potatoes, ripping his attention away from the other man. It doesn't take much longer until he’s finished and he can start slicing them to make slithers for a potato bake. Franky had requested it for dinner, the raging cold snowy storm outside enough to make even their resident cyborg shiver, his teeth chattering over the table this morning as he'd wistfully asked Sanji for a dish that Iceburg used to make when he was younger. Sanji never can deny his crew requests like that, even if it does mean more prep than he was expecting for the day, and by the time the potatoes for the bake are done, it's time to move on to making lunch.

Seaking chowder and crusty rolls. It's easy to prepare, and Sanji finds himself reaching out to turn on the tone dial for a bit of background noise, the gentle warble of a crooner adding a pleasant lilt to the stillness of the galley. Zoro doesn't flinch, but Sanji still keeps it on low, not wanting to disturb the swordsman as he turns back to the dough he'd left to rise in the refrigerator overnight.

He finds himself kneading to the tune that plays, humming vaguely under his breath and murmuring a few lines to some of the songs that play. The tone dial had been a gift from Brook, picked up from a passing island after their trip to Fishman Island. Most of the songs on it are from the Grand Line, but there’s the odd one from the East Blue that makes Sanji think of home.

It’s only when one of these come on, a soft mellow song sung to the twinkle of piano keys, that Sanji realises he has an audience to his own attempts at singing. He’s just placed the rolls in the oven to bake, making note of the time instead of setting his usual shrill timer, and when he stands up straight its to see a solitary grey eye watching him from the couch.

Sanji stumbles to a halt, the lyrics dying on his tongue, and he feels his cheeks starting to warm a bright red as he meets Zoro’s gaze.

There’s a tense silence, just the two of them looking at one another as Sanji tries to battle through the overwhelming embarrassment he feels, the urge to start a fight with the swordsman balancing on the tip of his tongue. Zoro doesn’t seem to share the same feelings though, his stare simply impassive, and Sanji is about to give into that urge when Zoro’s lips suddenly curl up into a small smile before his eye drifts shut again.

Sanji stares, mouth slightly open, and he finds himself quickly turning back to the stove and the chowder bubbling away on top of it.

The music carries on playing and after a while he begins to sing along again, shooting wary glances Zoro’s way. The swordsman doesn’t move though, even when Sanji swings past as he sets the table, and by lunch time Sanji is nearly convinced that he imagined Zoro being awake at all.

However, the arrival of their tumultuous captain brings the swordsman back to life, sitting bolt upright as Luffy launches towards him the second he’s in the room, and soon the music is drowned out by the havoc that follows suit. Sanji starts yelling as he brings the chowder to the table, trying to be heard over the mixture of Luffy’s cackles and Chopper’s squeals as Zoro chases them around the room, Usopp’s latest machine in his hands that’s whirring up a storm, and Franky’s strums on a guitar that he still brings to meal times despite the ongoing ban that Nami had declared months ago. 

Lunch goes fast. Luffy swallows down most of the bread rolls, including the one Zoro lobs across the room to distract him when he tries to pinch the swordsman’s bowl of chowder. Robin trills a laugh behind her hand as Usopp takes it as a sign to start slingshotting pieces of torn off bread for Luffy to catch, ignoring Sanji’s attempts to get him to stop, and Brook very quickly joins in as Jinbei watches with open shock, still trying to get used to the casual madness of the crew as Nami pats his back sympathetically.

Then once they’ve all eaten, Sanji watches them go back out the door, gritting his teeth as each time it swings open it lets the cold air waft into the room, until he’s alone again with a pile of dishes and the calm crooning of the tone dial.

Except Zoro is still there too.

Back on the couch, looking just as uncomfortable as before, and Sanji can’t help but pause to stare at the swordsman. His eyes are firmly closed, arms crossed over his chest, legs dangling over the armrest… as if he’d not even moved. Sanji’s hands grip tightly around the wet plate in his hands, his jaw clenching, unable to help but wonder what’s going on.

And then. “Oi, cook?”

Zoro speaks, and Sanji jumps in surprise, nearly dropping the plate back into the water-filled sink in front of him. Zoro hasn’t moved, hasn’t opened his eye, remains still completely relaxed where he lies.

Sanji narrows his eyes, aware that Zoro can’t see him. “What, Marimo?”

There’s a pause where Zoro doesn’t respond… but then he shifts on the couch, his leg starting to kick again where it hangs. “Play that song again,” he says quietly, almost hesitantly as if he can’t believe it himself, “the East Blue one.”

Sanji pauses, water dripping from his hands and the plate, the sound of the droplets hitting the edges of the steel sink loud in the air. He stares, completely stunned, but then he slowly places the plate back in the sink, wipes his hands on his apron, and reaches out for the tone dial.

It takes a moment to find the song again, the tone dial not really made to be able to choose the songs, but soon the gentle ting of the piano keys start to ring out through the still room. Sanji steals a glance Zoro’s way, sees a satisfied smile on the swordsman’s face, before he turns back to his dishes.

The song plays and Sanji washes his dishes, and he notices that Zoro’s leg again begins to slow as the swordsman starts to fall asleep once more. He wonders why… why Zoro chooses here to nap, why he wants to listen to this song, why he looks so completely at ease in Sanji’s galley… its just a whirl of questions that accompany the steady tune Sanji finds himself once more singing along too.

But they’re questions he doesn’t ask. Instead, Sanji turns back to his dinner prep, thinking of the cold and listening to the odd crash and bang that floats in from outside, keeping busy as he tries not to think about how the soft sound of Zoro’s gentle snores lull him more than the music ever could.

And if he covers Zoro with a blanket later, a soft green one that soothes away the goosebumps on Zoro’s arms… well, Sanji doesn’t need to think about that either.

…

More often than not, Zoro accompanies Sanji on his shopping expeditions.

It started in the East Blue, right before they crossed over into the Grand Line. It made sense, Sanji needed a pack mule to help carry the food back to the Merry and out of the five of them, Zoro was the most qualified for the role. Sanji wouldn’t dream of inconveniencing Nami with something so menial, Luffy would undoubtedly eat everything before they could even finish paying for it, and Usopp’s many diseases around hard labour became nauseating to listen too after a while.

So Zoro comes, and while he always crosses his arms and glares the entire time, he also holds out his arms without complaint when Sanji turn to hang bags from his wrists and elbows before piling him up with enough crates and boxes that Zoro always has to peak around the side of to see where he’s going. Sometimes Sanji will carry the odd thing, but it’s like a game for him to see how much he can load the swordsman up with.

Eventually… well, eventually it just became their thing.

When Franky had joined, there had been a moment where he’d offered to accompany Sanji, flexing his ridiculously oversized muscles in the process with only three super’s to go along with it. It’s a decent offer that Sanji genuinely considered, thinking about how much more Franky would be able to carry, but then Sanji had been surprised to see Zoro standing behind the cyborg with a furious glare that would have had Franky sewn up and tossed overboard if looks could kill.

“Thanks, Franky,” Sanji had said, looking away from Zoro and storing that little bit of information away to think about much later. “We’ve got it though.”

So it stays the two of them. Every island they stop at, Sanji will head into town with multiple shopping lists tucked into his pockets, Zoro trailing after him with a grumpiness that always seems to frighten most of the locals they come across. Sanji stopped minding when he realised Zoro looming over his shoulder with three swords and a terrible glower got him a lot more deals than even Nami could swindle. Considering the amount of food he has to buy for their captain alone? He figured keeping Zoro around was worth it.

Although, if Sanji is painfully honest with himself, he thought all of that might change after Wano.

Whole Cake sits like a heavy weight on his shoulders, holding Sanji down and reminding him of just what he put his crew through. Nami still hasn’t forgiven him completely, her words sharp and glares sharper. He expects it, she did warn him she would work him to the bone, but he wasn’t quite expecting the way it leaves his heart empty and yet, somehow heavy.

The others are a bit different, especially those that were there on Whole Cake with him. Again, Brook is around more, a quiet presence that offers a sort of understanding that Sanji wasn’t expecting. He plays music for Sanji whenever the silence lingers a little too long between them, often East Blue classics. Never anything from the North Blue, which doesn’t escape Sanji’s notice, not that he knows how to feel about it.

Chopper fusses over him as usual, but there’s a hesitance now when he asks how Sanji is. The crew may know about his past, about the threats made against him, and even to a degree the depth of the damage done to him both past and present, but Chopper never has been a doctor for the mind. Sanji doesn’t expect it from him, more than happy to keep his cards tucked tight to his chest, but he makes sure to soothe away Chopper’s frown with gentle brushes of his fingers, his smile brittle but enough.

Luffy… Luffy is Luffy, he’ll never change, but even so that doesn’t stop Sanji from seeing the flashes of his bruised face, his missing tooth, the exhaustion in his limbs and the slump of his shoulders. Sanji’s hands shake sometimes when he’s around his captain, when Luffy turns his brilliant smile to him, when he laughs and slings his arms around Sanji in a way he doesn’t deserve. It’s suffocating.

The rest… well, Robin understands. Sanji knows she does, Enies Lobby her own personal weight on her shoulders. She’s a quiet solace when it gets too much, when Usopp’s eyes follow him for too long, when Franky’s overcompensating shouts get too loud, when Jinbei’s uncertainty leaves them side-eyeing one another speechlessly.  

But Zoro… Sanji is unsure of the swordsman the most.

He’s endlessly nearby. His constant naps in the galley are something that Sanji has slowly adjusted too, although it doesn’t stop there. Somehow whenever Sanji decides to brave the decks, Zoro is around. Training, sleeping, cleaning his swords… the smell of choji oil and steel lingering in the air. He’s there when Sanji creeps into the mens bunk room late at night and there when Sanji leaves early in the morning, often times watching him quietly in a way that Sanji doesn’t know how to react too. His gaze is heavy, following Sanji as he moves… yet somehow he’s always looking away when Sanji tries to meet it.

But being nearby doesn’t necessarily mean anything when so far they’ve barely uttered a word to one another since departing Wano.

There’s the odd snipe, the usual fights, the shouting and yelling they’ve always done that at this point it would be unnatural to not. But it doesn’t escape Sanji’s notice that besides that one time Zoro asked him to play that song from the East Blue a few nights ago, they haven’t really said a single word to one another.

It makes Sanji ache.

So the first island they come across after leaving Wano, two weeks of being at sea having passed by, Sanji admittedly prepares to leave the ship alone. He gathers the lists from the others like usual, tucking them into the inside pocket of his jacket beside his pack of cigarettes, and he smiles benignly when Chopper insists on explaining each of the items on his with startling detail before ruffling his fur and assuring him that he will get only the best rosemary he can find.

Most of the others are staying onboard this time, only Robin and Franky departing alongside Sanji to scout out a collection of old temples they’d spotted on the other side of the small yet bustling town. They’ve long since left by the time Sanji gets out on deck, and he pauses at the top of the gangplank for a moment as he looks out across the harbour.

For some reason, going alone just feels… wrong.

“Oi, Cook.”

Sanji freezes in a half-step, his foot hovering over the gangplank, and he lowers it back to the deck as he turns to see Zoro making his way across the lawn towards him, tying his three swords to his hip with short sharp movements.

Sanji’s chest squeezes tight with something suspiciously like hope.

“Marimo,” he drawls, trying for nonchalant and landing somewhere far from it. “Where are you going?”

Zoro frowns as he comes to a halt in front of him, one hand resting on top of Wado’s hilt, the other hanging in a loose fist by his side. He stares at Sanji for a minute, long enough for Sanji to feel a little nervous, before Zoro’s gaze slips past him as he nods his head towards the town.

“Supply run,” he says, and Sanji blinks stupidly. “Isn’t that what we’re doing?”

Sanji’s mouth hangs open slightly, and he has to shake himself into closing it. He feels a lump in his throat that he swallows past before giving Zoro a strange sort of half-smile. “Yeah.” His voice is a little croaky, and he clears his throat before he slides his hands into his pockets, hoping it will hide how they have started to shake. “Come on then.”

Zoro’s frown eases and Sanji quickly turns on his heel to head down the gangplank. He hears the heavy thud of Zoro’s boots on the wood behind him, following closely behind, and Sanji’s heart beats an aching tattoo into his ribs as he leads the way into town.

It feels the same as usual though as they pick through the markets together. Zoro hovers over his shoulder, glaring at vendors without even realising it, and Sanji finds that his pockets stay heavy with coin despite how much Zoro starts to carry. It’s good, Nami will be thrilled, and Sanji can feel himself starting to relax into the familiar rhythm he and Zoro are used too. It’s normal, so normal, even if he daren’t think on it for too long

Of course, with that familiar rhythm and normalcy though, comes the swordsman’s usual ability to get fucking lost.

Sanji nearly forgot about that small little catch, right up until the moment he turns around from one stall to ask Zoro’s meaningless opinion on whether Brook would prefer a potato curry or a peanut curry, only to find that the swordsman is nowhere in sight. He should’ve known, Zoro’s lingering warm presence has been missing for a little while, but he thought the swordsman had simply stepped back for a bit… not wandered off altogether.

Sanji groans as he runs a hand through his hair, giving it a short tug in frustration as he looks around for any sign of green hair or sharp swords. The square they’ve walked into isn’t full of many people, but even so Sanji still struggles to find Zoro amongst the crowd, a terrible indication that perhaps the swordsman isn’t in the square at all.

Quickly, he pays the vendor for both the potatoes and peanuts he’d been umming over, taking the bag with distracted fingers as he’s already running through a list of where Zoro might have wandered off too. He hadn’t made mention of anything taking his interest at all throughout their excursion, but Zoro can be surprisingly impulsive like Luffy at times, especially if something catches his attention.

Sanji carefully navigates his way through the square back towards the main street they’d started on. It leads straight back to the harbour, but Sanji has never known a straight line that Zoro can’t bend. The idiot is no doubt lost down one of the many streets between here and the Sunny, and Sanji starts to peek down side alleys as he heads back in the direction of the harbour, pushing through the much much busier main street.

“Stupid directionally-challenge bastard,” he mutters to himself as he goes, begrudgingly dancing around carts and people as he moves, trying not to get run over by a stray horse or wheel.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take long to find Zoro. Sanji was correct in assuming he’d be down a side alley, and he comes to a halt at the lip of said alley when he spots a rather lost Zoro looking around helplessly where he’s standing halfway down it, the various people walking past him giving him a wide berth.

Sanji can’t blame them, not with how irritated Zoro looks, making him even more intimidating than usual. At least he’s still got all of their parcels. That would’ve been a pain if he’d lost them. He takes a moment to watch Zoro looking utterly hopeless, leaning casually against one of the nearby buildings to do so, before he clears his throat and calls out to the swordsman.

“Lost, Marimo?”

Zoro turns around with a sharp twist and Sanji can’t help but grin when Zoro quickly stomps towards him with all the grace of a baby elephant, the bags of Chopper’s medical supplies over his arms banging loudly against the wooden saya at his hips as people all but throw themselves out of his way.

“No.” Zoro’s glare could peel paint, Sanji thinks vaguely as the swordsman comes to a halt in front of him. “I was looking for you. You wandered off, Shit Cook.”

He sure did not, but Sanji thinks that might not be helpful to point out right now. He just shakes his head, unable to keep the fond expression off his face, and he pushes off from the wall he’s leaning on to stick his hands in his pockets. “Sure thing, Mossy,” he says indulgently, bouncing on the balls of his feet, “I don’t doubt I did.” He jerks his head over his shoulder. “Shall we continue?”

“You’re the one delaying things,” Zoro grumbles, petulantly enough that it just makes Sanji laugh. Zoro’s eye widens for a moment before he’s suddenly avoiding Sanji’s gaze, and Sanji can’t help but frown at the unusualness of it.

But then, if he’s not mistaken, he sees that the skin over Zoro’s cheeks and nose has darkened just a little, almost as if the swordsman is… is blushing.

It shouldn’t make Sanji’s heart thump like it does.

“Alright then, Shitty Swordsman,” Sanji quickly says, aware his voice sounds a little breathless and entirely thankful Zoro seems a little too occupied staring at the ground to notice. It’s not often he sees the swordsman so embarrassed over being lost, and he’s loathed to draw attention to it. Knowing it will distract him, Sanji throws in a dig. “Try not to get lost this time, eh? I don’t want to have to come find you again.”

As expected, it breaks the moment, and Zoro looks mutinous as his gaze snaps to Sanji’s. Sanji doesn’t give him time to answer though as he turns on his heel, heading towards the busy main street. He can hear Zoro muttering something under his breath, but he decides not to listen as starts to step back out into the crowd.

He pauses however when he feels a hand suddenly pressing flat against his back, although he knows it’s friendly when his observation haki doesn’t so much as even flare. He stays still, the hand warming his skin though the thin fabric of his shirt, and Sanji waits as… surely it’s not who he thinks it is?

It can’t be anyone else though, and Sanji’s mind is racing as Zoro’s hand moves to grip the back of his shirt, balling the fabric up enough that it pulls the hem out from where it was tucked into Sanji’s pants, and the sudden coolness of the wind against his bare skin has Sanji sucking in a sudden breath.

There’s a beat, a moment, when Sanji thinks about what it must look like… how striking the white of his shirt must look bunched up amongst the tan of Zoro’s fingers, and he swallows thickly at the thought.

“Are we going, Curls?”

Zoro’s voice lurches him out of his thoughts and Sanji quickly hurries out into the street, his face no doubt blazing a vibrant red as Zoro’s footsteps echo behind him, his hand firmly twisted into Sanji’s shirt, his knuckles gently brushing against the exposed skin of his back.

He doesn’t let go until they get back to the Sunny, and Sanji finds it’s only then he can breathe again.

…

The one thing that Sanji didn’t really expect to come out of Wano, is Luffy’s relationship with Trafalgar Law.

He should’ve seen it coming… they all should’ve seen it coming. Every Straw Hat knows exactly what it’s like to have the full brunt of Luffy thrown their way, to have their captain’s wide eyed determination and signature shishishi laugh aimed specifically at them, for them. Each one of them has felt that single moment where Luffy clapped eyes on them and decided that was it, they were his and there was nothing they could do to change his mind.

So of course, Trafalgar Law didn’t know what was coming for him the moment he asked Luffy for that alliance back on Punk Hazard, he didn’t know what that grin on Luffy’s face meant, what that twinkle in his eye would bring, and the poor sucker has probably not stopped regretting it since.

Sanji hopes that’s the case anyway, because frankly most of the Straw Hat’s are regretting it, even more so when a simple island stop over for supplies and the log pose to reset turns into something a hell of a lot more when Luffy spots Law and Jean Bart on the docks as they pull the Sunny into port.

None of them are quick enough to stop their captain launch over the railing with sheer excitement, slingshotting himself with those ridiculous rubber arms. Sanji and Nami are closest, and they can only watch in abject horror as Luffy barely manages to land on the wooden dock before throwing himself at a stunned looking Law, the Heart pirate slack mouthed and wide-eyed as Luffy’s laughter cracks around the port before he’s tackled to the ground.

Nami sighs as Law lets out a sharp yell they hear from even this far away. “Well, I guess we can say goodbye to an uneventful stop.”

Sanji gives her a commiserating look before he turns back to help the others. Luffy will be fine in the mean time with Law and Jean Bart. Not that Sanji can trust Law’s decision making skills after watching him with Luffy and Kid in Wano, but at least Jean Bart seems to have had some semblance of rationality about him every time they’ve interacted.

It doesn’t take long for them to drop the anchor as they come about to the dock. Thankfully the island isn’t hostile to pirates from Nami’s understanding, and Sanji is more than happy to trust she knows what she’s talking about as they tread down the gangplank to where Luffy is definitely holding Law hostage.

“Look guys!” he cackles as they approach, Law’s face a furious shade of red where he’s currently twisted up in Luffy’s impossibly long arms, Jean Bart clearly amused by it as he towers over them, “Torao is here!”

“We can see that, Luffy,” Usopp grumbles, and Sanji stands back as their sniper drags himself forward with the miserable task of having to extract the two captains. He doesn’t think he’s going to be successful though, especially not as Luffy’s arms somehow tighten around Law even further as he squishes their faces up against one another.

“Toraoo,” Luffy coos, and Sanji hides a snort behind his hand, meeting Zoro’s gaze and seeing the same amusement he feels reflected in the swordsman’s, “it’s been too looong!”

“He’d probably have liked longer,” Sanji can’t help but mutter under his breath, and the way Law’s eyes snap to him makes him just grin in return, wiggling his fingers in a mocking wave as Law glares hard enough that Sanji’s worried he might pop a few blood vessels.

Not that it matters. Nami is more than happy to leave Luffy in Law’s unwilling care as the rest of them spread out, Franky and Brook offering to stay behind on the Sunny. Sanji doesn’t wait to see how the others disperse, dodging around Usopp as the sniper tugs futilely on Luffy’s arms to lead Zoro towards the nearby market. The others can decide on what they do without them, their supply run definitely taking more precedence over anything else.

Although Sanji finds himself having to remind himself of the task at hand once Zoro hooks one of his fingers through Sanji’s belt loop, a habit he’s unfortunately picked up whenever they go shopping since their mishap on the other island a month or so ago. He tries not to think about it as he loads the swordsman up with goods, still more content to be shopping than back doing whatever it is Luffy and Law are up too.

Although, Sanji wonders if perhaps staying behind might have prevented what happens next.

As it turns out, the Heart Pirates are interested in the long since abandoned ruins at the top of the solitary mountain in the middle of the island. It hadn’t taken long for Luffy to volunteer them all to go too, if Usopp is to be believed when Sanji and Zoro return from the markets to see their crew spread across the deck of the Sunny looking utterly miserable. Luffy, of course, is bouncing around like an idiot and surprisingly Nami isn’t far behind him, but Usopp mumbles something about the ruins having rumoured treasure hidden inside and Sanji thwacks Zoro around the back of the head when the swordsman mutters something unsavoury about their navigator under his breath.

Despite both Law and Luffy’s insistence, Sanji manages to barter for a little more time to get some packed lunches in order before they go. Luffy caves the second food is mentioned, and Sanji recruits Zoro into watching the galley door to ensure Luffy doesn’t come barrelling in once he starts smelling whatever is cooking.

Not that Zoro does much but sit at the breakfast bar, elbow on the bench and chin in hand as he watches Sanji prepare and cook through a hooded eye. Sanji tries not to flush under the attention, focusing instead on the food, but the way the back of his neck itches and heats up lets him know he’s not exactly successful.

Eventually, by late morning, they set off.

The hike is long and tedious. At least they were given that bit of extra time to prepare properly before Luffy shuffles them all out of the city, his grip still tight on Law as he begrudgingly falls into step beside their boisterous captain. Hiking boots and suitable clothing have been adorned, and Sanji has a pack full of bento boxes he’s made up, plenty for the Straw Hat’s that have been bullied into coming too and the Heart Pirates that have joined them.

They mingle as they trudge up the mountain, Luffy and Law leading the way with energy that only seems to get stronger the further up the mountain they go. Robin and Jean Bart are right behind them, Jean Bart looking strange with a pair of arms popping out the top of his head to helpfully move aside the many branches hanging down from the forest canopy, although he doesn’t seem fazed at all as the two of them remain deep in conversation. Usopp walks between Shachi and Penguin, their laughter only progressively getting louder and louder as the three’s antics grow to match, and Bepo carries Nami in his arms as she chatters away to him in a way that makes the bear wiggle with barely contained joy.

Sanji brings up the rear of their troop with Zoro at his side. Chopper perches on the swordsman’s shoulders, his giggling delightful as he tugs at Zoro’s hair while he jabbers on about his finds down in the markets that morning. Sanji stops listening to them after a while, choosing instead to puff away on a cigarette, his eyes firmly on the Heart Pirates in front of them.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust them, Luffy clearly does, but he’s well aware that their alliance was dissolved after Wano. Just because there’s trust on one side, doesn’t necessarily mean it’s reciprocated.

He’s surprised though that Zoro remains with him. He gets that maybe it’s a better vantage point to keep an eye on everyone, but he also knows that Zoro has never been the type to linger at the rear if he’s worried there’s a threat. Normally he’s up the front or in the middle, happy to leave Sanji at the back.

It brings a short pang to his heart. Maybe… maybe this just another one of those post Whole Cake issues they’re going to have to deal with.

A squawk up ahead drags Sanji from his thoughts and he looks up in time to see Usopp dart out of the way of a shower of dirt from the mountainside, Penguin unfortunately not fast enough to avoid it. He looks miserable as Shachi howls with laughter beside him, only stopping as Penguin promptly hurls a handful of dirt at his crew mate, missing him completely and splattering Usopp instead.

Sanji’s eyebrows raise as the three start to squabble, lazily dragging from his cigarette as he shakes his head. Idiots, he thinks, they’re all idiots. Beside him, he can hear Chopper gasp, and when he glances over it’s too see their little doctor wriggling down from Zoro’s shoulders before he hurries past Nami and Bepo to join the trio up ahead.

Sanji huffs, unable to help his smile as Usopp immediately swings Chopper up to use as a shield despite Chopper’s squawks of protest, Penguin and Shachi not hesitating once as Chopper gets hammered with dirt, but it wanes when he glances back to see Zoro glaring at the others, his shoulders stiff and his hand hovering over his swords.

“Hey, Marimo,” he calls out, reaching out to nudge him none-too-gently with his elbow, getting an irritated look in response. “Calm down. He’ll be fine.”

Zoro just sniffs, but his hand does drop back to his side. “I don’t trust them.”

Sanji rolls his eyes. “You don’t have too.” He takes a drag on his cigarette, frowning when he realises it’s gone out, the lack of a nicotine rush disappointing. “Luffy does. We just have to trust him.”

Zoro snorts and arches his eyebrow at Sanji. “Even you know that our captain is a little compromised here, Curls.”

Sanji pauses, surprised at Zoro’s observation. He can’t help but glance forwards, looking past the rest of the crew to where Luffy and Law are still at the front. Luffy may have unravelled himself from around Law, but the way their hands are still firmly entwined between them is a little too obvious if one were too look long enough.

Which Sanji doesn’t, pulling his gaze away to focus instead on shoving his unlit cigarette back in his pocket. Luffy deserves a lot of things from his crew, and a little discretion is one of them.

“Yeah,” he admits, shaking his head albeit fondly, “can definitely say I didn’t see that coming.” He shrugs, giving Zoro a smirk as he jerks his head their captain’s way. “At least it wasn’t Kid though.”

Zoro lets out a sharp bark of laughter and Sanji is immediately drawn to the way he tosses his head back, his hand coming up to cup his forehead as Zoro closes his eye with sheer mirth, those rare dimples of his making themselves known over his youthful face.

It’s a good look on him, one that makes Sanji’s chest squeeze and his stomach flip.

Flustered, Sanji quickly turns his attention back to the rest of his crew, his cheeks burning even more when he sees Nami watching them with interest over Bepo shoulder. His eyes go wide as her eyebrows arch up in question, but she seems content to just narrow her gaze before turning back to the mink.

“I don’t know, Twirls,” Zoro suddenly says and Sanji’s eyes snap back to him, hoping his blush isn’t obvious to the swordsman. “You didn’t see the three of them with Big Mom. It’s not an impossibility.”

Sanji gags, all thoughts of Zoro evaporating as new ones of the three captains stampede into his mind, and Zoro’s eye sparkles with amusement as Sanji mimes frantically slitting his own throat with his hand. “Shut up, shut up, shut up.”

Zoro just snorts but says no more, clearly content to leave Sanji with those horrible images as he turns back to watching the others with a wry grin. It’s better than his tenseness before, but Sanji still has to bite back the urge to start kicking the shit out of the swordsman in retribution as he grips the straps of his backpack tightly and keeps marching on.

Eventually, after the quartet still having a dirt fight have been roared at by Nami and separated by Robin’s disembodied hands, they make it to the top of the forsaken mountain. The ruins await them at the top, a giant temple built into the mountain, every inch of the walls engraved with scrawling words of a language Sanji doesn’t understand. The front is still relatively intact despite the numerous vines that cover it, towering stone with slight cracks lined with vibrant green moss and sprawling twists of vines, but as they step into the temple it becomes apparent that it’s not as large as it actually appears from the outside.

Sanji trails behind the others as the entrance leads into a gigantic room filled with fallen pillars, the stone floor cracked from their impact, the vines from outside having slipped and grown through the breaks to cover most of the walls. There’s only two small corridors at the back, both too dim to be really made out from the front of the temple, but they look as uninviting at the rest of the place feels, the whole building falling apart, ancient, and dark… although clearly rich in history.

Not that Sanji is overly interested as Robin and Law immediately flock to the middle of the room where a giant altar stands, mossy and old, its own scrawls barely able to be seen under the layers of vegetation. Sanji doesn’t doubt it was probably used for some nefarious reason, but he puts that thought to the back of his mind as he shucks off the backpack and starts rooting around for the collection of bento boxes he brought with him.

The others seem to share his sentiment. While Jean Bart trails after Luffy obediently as their captain springs around the room with an alarming amount energy, the pirate somehow looking surprisingly interested in everything Luffy is babbling about, the rest happily spread out over the collection of long since toppled columns nearby. Nami sits primly beside Bepo and Chopper on one, watching Luffy like a hawk as Chopper shakes out his hat, trying to get dirt off it while Bepo helpfully removes clumps from his fur. Penguin has commandeered another column, Shachi and Usopp hunkered down on the broken stone in front of him with an assortment of sticks and stones in their hands, building some sort of strange looking device with them with extra pieces of gear from Usopp’s bag. Sanji looks pointedly away from them when Shachi lets out a loud snicker that errs on the wrong side of crazy.

He’d really rather not know what those three are up too.

Zoro is missing as usual, but Sanji doesn’t have to look to know he’s not far. His observation haki can feel him just slightly outside the doors to the ruins, no doubt doing some sort of perimeter check or whatever that Zoro sees fit to do to ensure their safety. Sanji thanks him, really, but he does wish that the swordsman would just relax for once.

Bentos in hand, Sanji stands before starting to hand them out. Nami takes hers with a brilliant smile that makes Sanji’s knees weak, and he coos a handful of delighted noises before she rolls her eyes and swipes Chopper’s and Bepo’s from his hands as well. Begrudgingly he heads towards Usopp and the other two Heart Pirates, wearily side-eyeing the small catapult like contraption between them as he hands off three more bentos to a surprised Penguin, politely ignoring his spluttered thanks as he beelines towards Jean Bart and Luffy with the two biggest bentos. Jean Bart looks just as shocked as Penguin when Sanji delivers them to him, the bento large enough to look simply normal sized in Jean Bart’s giant hands, but Sanji waves off his gratitude too before he hurries away when Luffy’s hungry gaze locks on the two of them.

“Sorry,” he calls over his shoulder as he legs it, and Jean Bart opens his mouth in confusion before Luffy launches himself at the giant man with a deeply disturbed cackle.

Unfortunately, Robin and Law have completely disappeared, no doubt further into the temple down those horrible corridors, and Sanji has half a mind to follow them before deciding they’ll come back when they’re ready. He settles their bentos to the side before taking out the last two for himself and Zoro. The swordsman still hasn’t come into the temple but Sanji doubts he’ll be much longer. He sits himself down on the last fallen column with his own bento in his lap, placing Zoro’s beside him, and he looks up to see Nami watching him with a frown.

She waves at the space next to her, but Sanji just gives her a bright smile as he holds up his opened bento box in return. Normally he’d been more than happy to fall down beside her, shower her with a delightful compliment and explain all the little extras he’s put in her and Robin’s bentos. However right now, he just feels like waiting for Zoro to come join him.

If he joins him. Sanji feels his cheeks start to burn and he quickly ducks his head so Nami doesn’t see. After all, it is awfully presumptuous to assume the swordsman will come sit with him instead of joining Chopper or even Luffy as he usually would.

Only, well, things are different between them at the moment… aren’t they?

Sanji’s head aches at the thought, flashes of Zoro on the galley couch obnoxiously beating at the edges of his mind. He thinks about the day in the market a few islands back, the press of Zoro’s hand against the bare skin of his back and how it’s become a habit of sorts, and he swallows thickly as he lifts his chopsticks to prod at the onigri in his bento.

He pauses, purses his lips when he realises just what he’s made for everyone, and he reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Get it together, idiot,” he hisses under his breath, squeezing his nose until it nearly hurts. “Get it together-”

“Cook?”

Sanji’s head lurches up with a start, his words dying in his mouth as he sees Zoro standing in front of him, arms crossed over his chest and his eyebrows raised. He looks a mixture of concerned and amused, and Sanji narrows his eyes at him.

“Marimo,” he drawls, his brain spinning to try find something to say as the awkwardness of being caught muttering to himself causes the tips of his ears to burn, “finally found your way inside, huh?”

Zoro gives him an irritated look before he steps forward to sit down beside Sanji, surprisingly close as their shoulders brush. “I was doing a perimeter check,” the swordsman grumbles, and Sanji can’t bite back his smile at the petulant tone. “We’re in the middle of nowhere with the Heart Pirates. At least one of us needs to be on alert.”

He has a point and Sanji feels a little chagrined as he ducks his head. They have been too relaxed in all honesty, especially considering they’re not actually in an alliance with Law and his crew anymore, but Sanji had forgotten that in the familiarity of the moment.

The others probably have too, especially Usopp who’s completely disappeared with Shachi and Penguin, their half-eaten bento boxes on the column they’d been on the only sign they’d been there. Sanji thinks to cast an eye for the trio, but decides against it. Usopp can look after himself, and despite Zoro’s uneasiness, Sanji doubts the Heart Pirates are out to get them.

After all, Sanji doesn’t fancy Law’s chances against Luffy’s pout if he’s wrong.

“Is that for me?” Zoro asks, pulling Sanji from his thoughts, and he looks over to see Zoro is gesturing at the bento box he’d placed beside him, hesitant despite the clear hunger in his eye.

Sanji smiles and picks it up, handing it over to Zoro’s waiting hands. “Lucky you got here before Luffy sniffed it out,” he says, and Zoro lets out a noncommittal noise as he takes the proffered chopsticks Sanji also passes him before he cracks open the lid.

He pauses. “Onigiri?” Zoro muses, reaching out with his chopsticks to scoop one up. Sanji doesn’t respond, trying not to let the embarrassment cross over onto his face as Zoro pops the onigiri straight into his mouth, only chewing a couple of times before he lets out a deep satisfied moan that makes Sanji’s heart jackrabbit in his chest.

He shifts his eyes away, determined to look anywhere but at Zoro as he goes for a second rice ball with vigour. Sanji’s own bento lies abandoned in his lap, and he doesn’t think he will be able to keep his chopsticks steady where he too turn back to it.

Instead, he looks for the others. Nami and Chopper are still nearby with Bepo, Usopp is still missing although there’s the concerning smell of his gunpowder in the air, Robin and Law are caught up over the alter, and Luffy is currently crawling over Jean Bart’s shoulders where they sit on Usopp’s abandoned pillar, reaching out with greedy rubbery fingers to try and snatch food out of the large man’s own bento, whimpering each time Jean Bart catches said fingers between his chopsticks.

Sanji can’t help but smile at that before he frowns, a sudden question popping up in his mind.

Reaching out to pick up his chopsticks and aiming for nonchalance, Sanji clears his throat. “How come you’re not sitting with our captain?” he asks Zoro, “I would’ve thought you’d have been by his side right now.” He glances out of the corner of his eye just in time to see Zoro stuffing a frankly alarming amount of rice in his mouth, enough to make his cheeks bulge in a way that Sanji shouldn’t think of as cute.

Although it means he doesn’t respond until he’s finished his mouthful, and by then Sanji has started to break apart one of his own onigiri with sharp jabs of his chopstick. He’ll still eat it of course, but right now it keeps his hands occupied to stab at his food.

“Luffy doesn’t need me,” Zoro finally says, and Sanji looks up in surprise to see Zoro shrugging as he meets Sanji’s eyes. “He’s more than capable of looking after himself.”

Luffy lets out a well timed yelp across the room, and Sanji looks over in time to see Luffy wrenching his hand back from Jean Bart’s chopsticks as he sticks his no doubt smarting fingers straight into his mouth.

Sanji snorts as he turns back to Zoro. “Are you sure about that?”

A smile curves over Zoro’s lips as he shakes his head, returning to his onigiri. “He deserved that.” Zoro holds up a ball, pausing for a moment as if in thought. “Besides, I’d prefer to sit here.”

Sanji freezes, the chopsticks going limp in his hands, and he slowly turns to see Zoro is watching him with an unreadable gaze as he chews on his mouthful of onigiri.

“Yeah?” Sanji manages to choke out, and he clears his throat as he drops his chopsticks completely, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck nervously. “I didn’t bring enough with me for seconds if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

Zoro frowns, a small line forming between his eyebrows that Sanji gets the sudden feeling to soothe away. He swallows before he opens his mouth, although what he has to say, Sanji has no idea.

And he doesn’t find out as a sudden explosion rocks the fragile ruins.

“What the fu-” Sanji starts to swear, only for his words to be cut off as Zoro suddenly slams into him, throwing them both to the ground. It’s just in time as a large piece of ceiling slams into the pillar they were sitting on, the sound of stone cracking and shattering ear-splitting through the air.

Sanji stares at it for a moment, heart in his mouth, before he slowly looks up at where Zoro is still on top of him, their breathing heaving and in sync, bodies pressed together as Zoro lies between Sanji’s legs.

There’s a beat, a pause.

“Fucking Usopp,” Zoro growls, deep and heavy with a furious glare, and Sanji swallows thickly as his heart absolutely thunders in his chest.

But then Zoro is up and gone, sprinting towards the back of the temple where the shrieks of the others can be heard, mixing with the groaning of the ruins as it continues to shudder around them, and Sanji is left staring up at the crumbling ceiling wondering… thinking…

Fuck.

…

Fighting is something that the Straw Hat’s do often.

Marines, pirates, governments, local militias, monarchies… hell, even each other. It’s something that they do with ease and excitement, and while Sanji isn’t the first to say that it’s one of his favourite things to do, he’s not above admitting it either.

However, after the fight? That can be the hardest part.

The marine ship surprises them in the afternoon, a large galleon that appears on the horizon almost out of nowhere. They’ve been alone on the water for days now, their island adventure with the Heart Pirates having ended when the Polar Tang’s log pose had set a day before theirs. Luffy hadn’t been impressed about that at all, and his morose attitude after watching Law leave has managed to last for longer than usual, causing a shift in the crew’s overall mood and the atmosphere on the Sunny.

Sanji personally hasn’t minded. The general consensus to leave one another alone has left him with plenty of time to calm a racing heart and overthink every detail of the moment Zoro sat with him at the ruins. He can’t help but remember all their interactions since Wano, how he was convinced Zoro was furious at him about Whole Cake and that’s why they’ve hardly spoken… but the longer he thinks about it?

Well, maybe he’s thinking about it too much.

Because the facts are simple when he lays them out. Zoro clearly doesn’t hate him like Sanji was so convinced that he might’ve done. In fact, if Sanji is brutally honest… well, it seems like it could quite possibly be the opposite?

The thought makes his heart race and his cheeks burn, and Sanji isn’t entirely certain he isn’t projecting his own feelings in a desperate bid to know they’re reciprocated. Embarrassingly, he knows thats the more likely case.

Zoro isn’t that way inclined, never has been. Sanji can’t think of a time when the swordsman showed interest in someone, anyone, and it’s delusional to think otherwise.

Nevertheless, he spends the quiet days since the island in his galley as usual, Brook a steady company as he writes pieces of music where he spreads out over the table, parchment and ink everywhere as he croons soft lyrics to Sanji’s tone dial. Sanji has half a mind to speak to the musician about the thoughts raging through his mind, nearly desperate to talk to anyone about them, and Brook has provided a surprisingly rational and calm approach to problems Sanji’s faced before.

But he’s interrupted each time he thinks to do so though by the swordsman himself, the big lug constantly stomping into the galley to park himself up on that lumpy blue couch. His snoring drives Sanji crazy, but he has to admit it’s amusing when Brook writes a piece that incorporates the terrible noise into a sonnet that makes Chopper burst out laughing where he’s tucked away in his infirmary next-door.

In any case, the approaching marine ship is a welcome interruption. Zoro calls down the warning from the crows nest, the crackle of his voice over the speakers interrupting the otherwise calm atmosphere over the Sunny. Sanji glances up with disinterest from where he’s serving Nami and Robin their afternoon tea, sweet cakes and iced tea on a silver platter, just in time to see Luffy tearing up from the workshops below with a screeching Usopp on his heels, the two of them bowling straight over to the railing to look for the sighted ship.

It doesn’t take long before it’s nearly upon them. Zoro slips down from the crows nest and Sanji joins him alongside the others at the railing. The galleon is large, although not nearly big enough for it to belong to any marine higher than an Admiral, but it still brings with it a much needed fight to break up the monotony of a few days sailing on flat sunny waters.

Although, it’s clearly only challenging enough to warrant two swords in Zoro’s mind, and Sanji raises his eyebrows as the swordsman pulls Wado and Kitesu from their sayas, twirling them around in his hands in a way that shouldn’t be attractive. He shoots Sanji a cocky grin, like he knows Sanji has been watching him, and Sanji gives him a short glare before turning back to the rapidly approaching ship, the hurried sounds of marines readying themselves for battle cracking out over the sea towards them.

The moment it’s within a reasonable distance, Luffy launches over the railing with Usopp in one hand and a surprised Brook in the other, the latter obviously not having expected to be part of their little boarding party. Usopp definitely isn’t, his screaming growing fainter the further away he flies, mixing with the signature shishishi of Luffy and the yohoho of Brook. Sanji watches them go with a sigh, shaking his head as he feels Zoro come up to stand beside him, and he offers his hand out to the swordsman in the casual way he used to before the Whole Cake nonsense.

“Care for a lift?” he asks, tapping the toe of his shoe on the deck pointedly. Admittedly, he’s bracing himself for rejection as Zoro looks at him for a moment, but then he gives him a sharp nod. Sanji promptly loops his arm around Zoro’s waist before he kicks them up into the air, holding the swordsman tight against his side as he climbs straight up for a few metres before changing course and streaking out after the other three.

There’s already sheer carnage reigning when Sanji and Zoro get to the ship. Luffy is diabolically carving his way through the gathered marines in a beeline for the Admiral up on the observation deck, Usopp has scrambled up one of the masts and hangs upside down with kabuto gripped in hand, and Brook is easily stopping the marines trying to take chase after their captain with Soul Solid moving in graceful arcs. Zoro bumps his shoulder into Sanji’s briefly the moment they land before he darts away from him, Wado twisting dangerously in his hand, and Sanji watches him go before he turns the other way, grinning at the frightened marines behind him.

“Afternoon,” he drawls, and the marine at the front yelps in response.

The battle doesn’t take very long. Sanji isn’t entirely sure what happens for the whole ship to be set on fire, but he does remember seeing one of Usopp’s fire bird stars go past after a group of marines, Sanji’s own burning legs not quite matching the same heat. Not that it matters, between their relentless attack and the blazing fire, the marine ship is soon sinking rapidly to Davey Jones locker with the marines scrambling desperately for the lifeboats in droves.

By that time though, the Sunny has come up alongside, and Sanji joins the others in hopping back to their home, all of them covered in soot from the smoke and the grime of battle. Luffy is the worst, his skin and clothes almost completely black as he immediately starts chasing a squawking Nami around the lawn, and Usopp looks utterly miserable as he plucks his somehow damp clothes off his ashy skin, Brook beside him with a greyish tinge to his normally white bones.

Sanji isn’t as bad, having managed to avoid most of the smoke and ash unlike the others, but his hair smells rancid as it falls over his face and his skin has an uncomfortable dusty layer to it. He turns up his nose as he tries to brush his hands off on his mucky pants, only succeeding in coating his palms in ash.

He feels someone nudge his shoulder, and he looks up to see Zoro, his bared teeth a pearly white against the grey soot staining his cheeks and his eye shines bright with left over adrenaline. Sanji arches an eyebrow at him before Zoro raises Wado in invitation, twirling her in a way that is both cocky and indecently tempting.

Sanji’s heart leaps. This is all so familiar that it makes him ache.

He doesn’t show it though, just narrows his eyes back and reaches out to kick at Zoro’s ankles, his heart thumping too loud in his chest when Zoro grins at him and dances back out of his reach, Kitesu coming up in his other hand. Sanji can feel his own leftover adrenaline start to run down his legs, pulsating under his skin, and he doesn’t hesitate in following the swordsman back over the deck.

They trade blows for a while, no real force or speed behind them, completely genial as they work the last of the excitement from their bodies. The others fade away until it’s just them on the lawn, leaving them to their own personal kind of dance, both of them knowing each individual steps flawlessly. Sanji kicks as Zoro parries, Zoro swipes as Sanji ducks… they’re seamless.

Until Zoro grins, cuts to the left when he should cut right, and Sanji’s eyes widen as he tries to shift his balance onto his back leg, only for Zoro to snap out with his own and take Sanji’s legs out from under him.

He expects to hit the deck, already preparing himself with a wince, only to come to a halt as Zoro catches him, his arm snatching Sanji’s waist and holding him midair in a dip.

Sanji’s breath catches as his hands fists the folds of Zoro’s coat, his eyes wide as he tilts his head back, only to see Zoro smiling down at him, soft around the edges of his lips, his gaze lidded and amused.

“Too slow, Cook,” he murmurs, and Sanji purses his lips, trying to hold back the laugh he can feel bubbling in his chest.

“Asshole,” Sanji swears instead, and Zoro’s smile just grows wider. Unable to help himself, Sanji lets go of Zoro’s coat, allowing himself to hang completely in Zoro’s hold as he boldly reaches up to wipe away some of the soot on the swordsman’s cheeks. He doesn’t do much besides smear it everywhere, and he shakes his head as he slides his fingers up further to run them through Zoro’s blackened hair.

Zoro stills beneath his touch, his breath hitches, and Sanji swallows.

“Oi!”

Nami’s voice cracks out over the deck, and Sanji’s eyes widen as he quickly stands up, pulling himself from Zoro’s grip as he whirls around to see her hanging over the railing outside the galley, looking down at them with an unimpressed look. Sanji opens his mouth, not entirely sure what he’s going to say, but Nami beats him to it.

“Bath,” she orders, snap a hand out to point up at the bathhouse. “Now.”

Sanji doesn’t argue and neither does Zoro, both of them quick to scramble for the staircase. Nami wrinkles her nose as Zoro passes her, avoiding his filthy hand as he swipes out at her, but she recovers quickly enough to give Sanji a smirk that makes his cheeks burn.

He quickly averts his gaze and hurries by.

Luffy, Usopp, and Brook are already in the bathhouse when they arrive, the three of them roughhousing violently enough that there’s water and soapsuds all over the floor. Sanji nearly slips on his way to one of the shower stalls, snagging a towel as he shucks off his dirty clothes to toss down the laundry chute for washing, pausing just briefly to tuck his shoes to the side of the door. They’re covered in grime and blood, and he makes a note to give them a clean and polish later on.

He doesn’t waste much time in the shower, quick to lather up his hair and body to get rid of the sticky residue of ash. The call of a nice soak in a hot bath is a lot stronger than standing under a spray of water, and once he’s satisfied he’s clean enough, he knots his towel tightly around his waist before joining the others.

He’s the last to slip into the bath, barely holding back a relieved sigh as he sinks under the steaming water. Thankfully the other three have settled while Sanji showered. Brook looks like he’s about to crumble into a pile of bones where he reclines at one end, while Usopp and Luffy’s attention is firmly on one of the bath toys Usopp tries to play off as inventions. This one’s a small looking steam boat that’s puddling around to their amusement, and Sanji is just glad it’s not one of the ones that spits water up like a fountain.

Zoro is in the adjacent corner to him, nearly completely submerged with his chin under the water line, his eye closed as his breathing causes small ripples on the surface. He looks cleaner than before, but Sanji isn’t surprised to see that his hair is still more grey than green and there’s patches of black soot behind his ear and the back of his neck.

Idiot swordsman, he thinks to himself, and Sanji tries to ignore the weird feeling brewing in his chest. Instead, he forces himself to relax, slipping further down the bath wall as the hot water starts to unwind the knots in his body, especially at the base of his spine from a years old injury and the muscles of his thighs from all the coiling during the fight. He thinks to close his eyes but decides against it when he hears Luffy laugh, not at all willing to chance being caught unawares by his unruly captain. 

However, it does leave him glancing around, and he can’t help his attention constantly returning back to the not-so-clean swordsman in the corner. Zoro looks calm and content, remaining completely still despite the odd startling noise from the younger two. Sanji admires the swordman’s ability to mediate no matter the circumstances, but he realises he’s been looking a little too long when Zoro’s brows pull into a frown and he speaks.

“What, Curls?” he grumbles, making Sanji startle at being caught, but he quickly recovers with a sharp jab back.

“You need a shower, Mossy.”

Zoro’s eye flashes open and he tilts his head to give Sanji an irritated look. “I’ve had one.”

Sanji snorts, sitting up a little straighter as he rolls his eyes at Zoro. “You need another,” he points out incredulously, and Zoro narrows his eye back at him. “You’re dirty enough to blend into Usopp’s workshop.”

Usopp lets out a small noise of protest from the other end of the bath, but both Sanji and Zoro ignore him. Zoro doesn’t look offended at Sanji’s words, although he still lets out an annoyed sounding huff before he closes his eye again.

“Sorry not all of us are prisses like you,” Zoro mutters a little bitterly.

Offended, Sanji’s mouth falls open as he gives Zoro a foul look in response. The bastard just sits there, marinating in his own filth though, and it pisses Sanji off enough that he quickly stands to step out of the bath. He heads straight for his drawer of toiletries near their towel rails, leaving a trail of water all over the floor, and he picks out his bottles of shampoo and conditioner before he heads back towards Zoro.

Before his senses can get a hold of him, and before he can chicken out, Sanji plonks himself down on the edge of the bath right behind Zoro, his legs on either side of the swordsman, bracketing the man in between his knees.

Zoro immediately stiffens. “Oi,” he demands, but his voice doesn’t hold its usual edge, instead a gentle lilt of confusion, and he doesn’t move as Sanji’s knees bump into his shoulders.

Sanji tries not to read into it too much though as he squirts a handful of shampoo into his hand before reaching out and hauling Zoro’s head back roughly. “There’s a difference between prissy and clean, idiot,” he mutters to the swordsman as he works his hands through Zoro’s hair, wrinkling his nose as the soapy lather turns grey under his fingers. “Honestly, it’s disgusting.”

Zoro grumbles something under his breath but doesn’t protest, shocking Sanji. He’s still tense, his shoulders are hunched slightly where they touch Sanji’s knees, but he remains exactly where he is. Sanji has half a mind to ask him what’s wrong, but he’s blatantly aware that this isn’t exactly normal for them.

Nevertheless, he continues anyway, and once sure he’s gotten most of the grit and grime out of Zoro’s hair, Sanji trails his hands down to clean the back of Zoro’s neck, aiming for the sooty patches he’d seen earlier. He finds them just behind Zoro’s ears, and he quickly scrubs them away with his knuckles before he gently tilts Zoro’s head back to wash the shampoo out.

Unsurprisingly, Zoro’s eye is closed again and he doesn’t meet Sanji’s gaze. Sanji doesn’t mind, focusing instead on cupping a hand over Zoro’s eyes to make sure no soap runs into them as he rinses his hair out with handfuls of water. He lets him sit up again once his hair is shampoo-free, but Sanji isn’t done as he reaches for his conditioner.

The crack of the bottle opening causes Zoro’s shoulders to stiffen even more. “You better not be putting any of that girly crap on me.”

Sanji huffs and starts to work in the conditioner, running it through newly green strands. “Shut up,” he says, unable to help the fondness in his tone, and Zoro mutters something he doesn’t catch under his breath.

The sweet smell of chamomile starts to permeate the air, mixing with the steam from the bath. Sanji’s ministrations are more of a gentle massage this time as he runs his fingers in soothing circles around Zoro’s scalp, tenderly kneading away in what he hopes are relaxing motions. It seems to be as Zoro’s head loosens in his hands, as his shoulders start to fall, and Sanji trails his fingers back down to press into the soft hollows behind Zoro’s ears.

It has the unintended consequence of Zoro letting out a quiet groan, and Sanji’s heart stutters as Zoro sinks into the vee of his legs, his head falling back into Sanji’s hands bonelessly. It gives him a perfect view of Zoro’s face, the way his expression has melted into something so deeply relaxed, and his cheeks are a soft pink with a warm flush.

Sanji’s fingers pause, his blood rushes beneath his skin, and he can’t help his small smile.

By the time he rinses out the conditioner, Zoro is all but boneless where he lies in Sanji’s lap. His eye is closed again but his jaw is slack and his arms are loose where they’re crossed over his chest. Sanji runs his fingers back through his hair, no excuse behind his movements this time besides the need to touch with the thinly-veiled excuse Zoro doesn’t really know what he’s doing.

He makes the mistake of looking up though, and he’d utterly forgotten that they weren’t alone. Brook is fast asleep across from him, Luffy hanging over the edge of the bathtub beside him looking deeply uncomfortable in his own slumber… but Usopp is sitting up and staring right back at Sanji.

There’s a pause before Usopp raises his eyebrows, a smirk on his face as he crosses his arms.

Cheeks blazing, Sanji throws him a filthy look. “Shut up, long nose,” he mouths at him, not daring to say the words aloud.

Usopp eyes twinkle before they dip to Zoro, and Sanji’s stomach flutters when he sees the edges of Usopp’s smirk soften into something fond and tender.

“Didn’t say a word,” Usopp mouths back.

…

It’s not very common Sanji has time to relax.

He’s not upset by it. After all, he signed on to the Straw Hat’s as the cook, and he doesn’t take the position lightly. The crew might not be big but their appetites are large, nearly overwhelming at times, but Sanji has chosen to take that as a hearty challenge rather than the lengthy condemnation Nami had originally framed it as.

So he’s always in the kitchen. Cooking, prepping, mixing, baking. He’s always serving treats and pouring drinks, planning the next refreshment in a long day of snacks only ever interrupted by the three meals he meticulously plans out according to the crews personal preferences. There’s ten of them now, each with their own likes and dislikes, and Sanji takes a personal pride in knowing all of them down to the letter. He knows that Nami loves anything with tangerines or citrus, but Brook will avoid any kind of lemon based desserts. Usopp prefers his meals with a touch of chilli, whereas Chopper won’t eat anything that isn’t sweet. Franky’s love of junk food and hamburgers is a sharp contrast to Jinbei’s preference towards seaweed and fruits, and Robin’s taste for plain sandwiches and bitter coffee would be the simplest appetite on the crew were it not for Luffy’s vacuum of a mouth no matter what food is nearby.

Then there’s Zoro, who dislikes most sweet foods but finds chocolate to be the worst, who prefers white rice steamed and not fried, who’s favourite meat is supposed to be sea beast but he can’t tell the difference between sea boar and sea raccoon, who claims to only drink sake but has a soft spot for matcha tea with the tiniest dash of maple syrup in it.

Sanji tries not to think about just why he knows all that.

But when the cooking is done, Sanji continues. After all, when he’s not in the kitchen, there’s always other chores to do. The men’s quarters is a constant disaster and Sanji regularly finds himself tidying up the laundry piled on the floor, making the beds if he has the time, and sweeping the deck of all the various items he tries very hard not to identify. Then there’s the aforementioned laundry that never seems to end, and Sanji is thankful for the washing machine Franky had installed down by the workshops, making the chore a hundred times easier than it had been back on the Merry when Sanji had done it all by hand. Often Chopper helps out, bringing his sheets in from the infirmary to add to the loads, and Sanji always appreciates the little reindeer’s cheerful attitude as he chatters away to Sanji when they hang the washing up on the lines strung between Nami’s tangerines trees.

Then there’s the cleaning of the bathhouse, the sweeping of the deck, the dusting of the shelves in the library. Sanji cleans out the aquarium tank as regularly as he can, washes off the salty residue left from the sea on all the Sunny’s windows, and spends a lifetime cleaning up all the sticky messes Luffy leaves behind him wherever he goes. It’s constant work, but Sanji would never expect the ladies to do any of it and the boys are too busy creating disorder to even pause to clean up after themselves.

Sometimes though they do help, like Chopper. Usopp and Franky do most of the maintenance on the Sunny after all, and Jinbei’s arrival has created an expectation that things are at least a little tidier in the mens quarters, although how long that will last, Sanji isn’t sure. Zoro and Luffy seem to make it into a competition most the time on who can leave the bigger mess, and already they’re starting to slip back into those terrible habits.

However, Sanji has accepted that his role in the crew goes beyond just being the cook at this stage. He knows it goes deeper now, knows that he does more than he realistically should since they departed Wano… just why though, he doesn’t dare to read into.

So it surprises him completely when one sunny day, Sanji pops out onto the observation deck from the hatch in the galley, washing basket settled on his hip with a mixture of the boys wet clothing weighing it down, only to see Nami and Usopp waiting for him with their hands planted firm on their hips and matching looks of annoyance.

Together, when Usopp isn’t too busy hiding behind Nami skirt tails, the two make a formidable pair.

It’s the only reason Sanji finds himself scampering back down into the galley with crisped red ears and the firm instructions that he’s not to lift a damn finger for the rest of the afternoon, including not stepping foot in his kitchen. His protests had fallen on deaf ears, and Sanji can’t help but step off the last ladder rung into the galley with a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Because, as he turns around to glance about the galley with pursed lips, he realises it’s been so long since he’s had the time to even think about relaxing that… well, he’s not entirely sure just what it is he should do.

How embarrassing.

He glances over at the kitchen, the call to at least make something for afternoon tea shot down by the fact Nami has already informed him she’s sorted the crew for that, and he knows that he could never ignore the promise she dragged out of him, so the kitchen is out. He could maybe head up to the bathhouse for a relaxing bubble bath, but he doesn’t doubt that would be interrupted at some stage. The library is already occupied this afternoon by Robin and Franky so he doesn’t want to intrude on their time together, and Sanji already has a book sitting on the kitchen bench he’s been trying to work through whenever he has a minute.

Relaxing out on the lawn is never an option, not when it invites too much attention and Luffy has never grasped the concept of bugger off. He’d seen his captain down there already on his way past with the washing, him and Chopper pushing each other on the little reindeer’s swing as high as they can go. Brook is currently sleeping off the night shift in the men’s quarters, Zoro is training up in the crows nest, and an exhausted Jinbei shut himself away in the aquarium earlier with firm instructions not to interrupt him unless someone was actively dying.

Sanji doesn’t blame him. A few months out from Wano and the fishman still has yet to fully adapt to the crew’s nonstop utter bullshit.

Unfortunately, that means Sanji’s only real option is to stay in the galley. He lets out a huff under his breath before he heads into the kitchen, pulling out the whistling kettle and rummaging through the cupboard for the bags of black lemon tea and cinnamon sticks. Surely making himself a hot drink doesn’t count as doing anything, but Sanji hurries through the process nonetheless in case Nami turns up to scold him. He snatches the book off the bench top as he carries his mug over to the table, about to hook his foot around a chair leg to pull it out, only to pause.

He glances over at the lumpy blue couch in the corner, the monstrosity missing its usual mossy presence for once, and Sanji’s lips twitch.

Well, he might as well treat himself.

The couch is always surprisingly comfortable. Sanji never spends enough time on it to remember, but as he sinks down into the squishy cushions, he lets slip a small sigh of contentment. He turns sideways, kicking off his shoes before bringing his legs up onto the couch, bracing his back against the armrest and one of Nami’s decorative pillows. His mug of tea sits in his lap on top of his book, a light paperback about a fictional romance, and he taps his fingers on top of it before he tilts his head to the side to rest against the large back cushions.

Oh yes, he decides. This is perfect.

He’s not sure how much time he spends splayed out on the couch. His mug runs dry after a while and he ditches it on the ground beneath him as he leisurely reads through his book. It’s a load of utter nonsense, completely indulgent, but Robin had recommended it to him with a sly smile and a wink. He understands why when he gets to a particularly steamy scene that makes his eyes widen, and he can feel his cheeks starting to burn as he hurriedly skips a few of the more intense paragraphs.

He’s about halfway through the book though when the door to the galley suddenly opens, and Sanji nearly leaps out of his skin as Zoro comes clunking through, his boots loud on the wooden deck. The swordsman isn’t looking at him though, instead frowning off at the empty kitchen, and Sanji’s eyebrows raise as Zoro clearly scans the room until his eye falls on when Sanji is currently lying.

Zoro’s eyebrows go up. “Cook,” he greets, sounding a little confused, and Sanji raises his book up in response.

“Swordsman.” He smiles as Zoro gives him a look. “I’m officially off duty, if you’re looking for something to eat.” He shrugs awkwardly when Zoro’s gaze flickers to the kitchen briefly. “Nami’s orders.”

Zoro huffs, a strange smile quirking up the edges of his lips, before he crosses the galley towards him. “And here was me thinking Luffy was our captain.”

Sanji laughs. “We both know who wears the pants on this ship,” he says, only to change his tune as Zoro reaches the couch and starts shoving at Sanji’s legs. “Oi! Cut it out!”

Zoro ignores him though. “It’s my couch.”

Sanji leans forward to bat at Zoro’s shoulders with his book, eliciting a few winces from the swordsman. “It’s my galley,” he points out and yelps when Zoro pinches his calves. “I hardly ever get an opportunity to use this thing, so fuck off-”

Sanji cuts himself off as Zoro grumbles something under his breath before he promptly flops down on top of Sanji’s legs, his arms only just catching the pillows on either side of Sanji’s hips to stop himself from face planting Sanji’s lap. Zoro’s a heavy weight, his chest pressing down onto Sanji’s thighs, his legs entangling with Sanji’s own as they awkwardly hang over the armrest at the other end of the couch, and Sanji’s heart nearly stumbles to a halt in his chest as Zoro drags one of Nami’s decorative pillows up off the ground to press against Sanji’s stomach… right before resting his head down on top of it.

Sanji sits frozen, heart pounding, his breathing stilted, his eyes wide enough to hurt as he looks down at the certifiable lump of moss currently draped over him.

“Marimo,” he says very carefully, very slowly, as measured as he can manage. “What the fuck are you doing.”

It’s not really a question, not that Zoro cares as he brings a hand up to worm under the pillow, the backs of his knuckles scrapping against Sanji’s stomach in a way that makes Sanji want to throw him off and bolt for the door, but he’s held still as Zoro’s other arm braces itself on the edge of the couch, his finger slipping through one of Sanji’s belt loops as his hand presses against Sanji’s hip, boxing him in.

“Sharing,” Zoro replies, his voice muffled by the pillow, and Sanji tries not to swear as his hands start to shake around the book still clasped in them, growing heavier the longer he holds it above Zoro’s head.

“This isn’t sharing,” he grinds out, trying to shift a leg only for Zoro to growl as he presses his weight down on top of it. “This is being obnoxious and invasive.”

Zoro rubs his face into the pillow, wriggling further until he’s between Sanji’s legs instead of on top of them. Sanji is instantly reminded of the bath from a week ago, of Zoro sinking into the vee of his legs, and he can feel his cheeks turning a brilliant red as his voice catches in his throat.

“Isn’t moss supposed to be invasive?” Zoro grumbles, and Sanji treats him to a whack on the head from his book, satisfied at the wounded whine he gets in response.

“You know it’s not funny when you say it,” Sanji hisses, and Zoro just wordlessly grouses as he finishes settling. There’s no moving him, Sanji knows that when the swordsman makes up his mind about something there’s no going back, but he feels like he’s drowning where he sits bracketing Zoro’s body with his knees, the two of them pressed together in one warm pile of limbs, and Zoro lets out a pleased hum as he clearly intends to fall asleep.

Sanji knows he has to keep protesting, to insist Zoro get off him whether by himself or with Sanji’s violent assistance… but the other part of him, the part that is getting louder and louder with each passing day…

Well, Sanji’s hands tighten around the book as he swallows thickly, before he slowly lowers his arms until his book is resting on Zoro’s shoulders.

“You snore, I’ll rip your tongue out,” Sanji mutters, and Zoro lets out a noise dangerously close to a purr. He doesn’t move though, and when Sanji chances a glance at his face, it’s to see Zoro’s eye is closed and there’s a small satisfied smile on his lips.

Asshole, he thinks fondly before he returns to his book, his fingers trembling as he turns the page.

…

Thanks to Chopper, the Straw Hat’s never get sick.

The amount of vaccines he gives them all alone makes Sanji’s head spin, vaccines against things he’s never even heard of and honestly, things he thinks might just be made up. But between the shots and pills and blood tests and regular check ups, Sanji has never felt healthier in his entire life.

That is until he comes down with the most horrendous fever he’s experienced since he was a child in the East Blue.

The island they’re on is made up entirely of jungle. Sanji had been hesitant when they’d first moored in a little cove tucked along the island’s shores, the endless dark trees swaying with thick tangled vines hadn’t been exactly inviting and the wave of mosquitos that bombarded them on their way in had been even more off-putting, but Luffy clearly hadn’t cared if the way he’d launched himself off the side of the Sunny straight towards the jungle was any indication.

Unfortunately, that meant they’d had to follow, and Sanji had begrudgingly fallen into step with the others as they’d trailed after their captain, Usopp and Franky having drawn the lucky straw of staying behind. They’d waved them off cheerfully, not even flinching when Sanji and Nami had thrown them back the rudest gestures they could muster.

Of course, it’d only been a matter of moments before they’re all scattered to the wind. Chopper and Brook took a wrong turn and vanished down a ravine, Nami and Robin quick to follow when they’d tried to catch them, and Sanji had last seen Jinbei attempting to find a safe way down before he’d realised Zoro had already gotten lost, no sign of which way he’d disappeared either.

Typically, he goes to find him, already bristling with barely restrained anger as he drags his sweating miserable self through endless wretched jungle, and the only thing stopping him from unleashing the moment he finds the idiot standing in the middle of a small clearing scratching his head a few hours later, is another onslaught of mosquitos.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he hisses as he bats them all away, drawing Zoro’s attention as he lights up his leg and flashes it through the air in flaming arcs. He spitting out swear words as he attacks the horde of mosquitos, no doubt looking a sight from the way Zoro’s laugh cuts out through the clearing, but he doesn’t care as he feels them biting into the skin on his bare arms.

“Come on, Curls,” Zoro taunts him as he approaches, the mosquitos vanishing as Sanji’s fiery leg returns to the ground. “They’re just bugs.”

“Just bugs?” Sanji snaps, turning blazing eyes to the swordsman as he starts to scratch viciously as his arms, the itching and burning under each bite on his skin only making his fury worse. “Fuck off, mossy. Bugs riddled with disgusting diseases.”

Zoro waves a dismissive hand. “Chopper has us immune to every disease.”

Sanji’s mouth opens and closes before he narrows his eyes. “I admire your faith,” he grits out through clenched teeth, his scratching causing his arms to light up with a furious burn. He can’t stop clawing at the stinging bites though, digging his nails into his arms painfully.

Zoro seems like he’s going to reply, his mouth opening, but he stops short as he drops his attention to Sanji’s arms. “Oi,” he says, darting forward and snatching at Sanji’s wrists, holding tight as Sanji tries to yank himself free. “Stop. You’re bleeding.”

Sanji scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I am not,” he mutters, but when he looks down at his arms it’s only to freeze, his eyes widening when he sees he’s gouged deep scratches into his arms, all of them bleeding sluggishly. They still burn though, the insistent need to scratch dragging up from his core, and he tries to tug his arms from Zoro’s grip again.

Zoro holds fast though. “Cook,” he growls, “stop.”

“I’m fine,” Sanji tries to protest, but the words come out slurred and jumbled, and Sanji blinks a few times as the Zoro in front of him suddenly splits into two, both of them blurry around the edges. “Zoro?”

Zoro’s eye widens, his mouth opens, but Sanji doesn’t hear what he says before he promptly collapses.

The trip back to the Sunny comes and goes as Sanji flickers in and out of consciousness. He isn’t entirely sure what’s happening, only that he’s been carried on someones back, someone that smells like steel and choji oil, and he buries his face into a warm neck as the swaying of each movement makes him feel faint. Hands grip his thighs tightly, a voice murmurs to him, but Sanji doesn’t understand a word as he holds onto a stiff jacket with weak fingers.

Time passes strangely. He feels hot and cold, his body shivers and quakes but his head scorches until it melts. Every muscle aches, every joint seizes, his head feels like sharp knives are driving into it each time he moves or is jostled. His stomach lurches and he gags on the acidic bile burning in the back of his throat, and his heart pounds so violently in his chest he thinks it might shatter the ribs barely keeping his weak body together.

He can’t hear anything past the high pitch ringing in his ears and his vision is spotted with enough black dots to leave him nearly blind, but he can feel people around him. What little noise filters through sounds so far away despite their urgency, but beneath the screaming haze of delirium, Sanji knows it’s his crew, knows he can surrender to their hands.

And then, nothing.

Until.

He wakes gradually, like he’s being pulled out of deep unwilling slumber, his body aching and limp. His eyelids are heavy as he drags them open, blinking them slowly over and over as the blurry room around him comes into focus. It takes a moment to recognise the sheen of Adam’s wood, the dim yellow light glowing from the lamps… the signed autograph from Sogeking framed on the wall.

The Sunny’s infirmary, Sanji realises a little distantly, and he lets out a soft groan as he starts to take stock of his body, the softness of the pillow beneath him contrasted by the rough sheets under his back. He’s naked from the waist up, the stickiness of his skin uncomfortable under the light sheet covering him, and he vaguely thinks about pulling it off were his fingers to work, were he to have the strength to lift them.

“Sanji?”

Chopper’s quiet voice manages to break through the bubble of his ears, and Sanji blinks as he turns his head to the side, each movement laggy and slow. Chopper comes into his vision though, blurred as it is, his eyes wide as he peers at Sanji from his spot beside the bed.

“Hey Chopper,” Sanji manages to rasp out, each word scraping up his raw dry throat. Chopper is quick to action, and Sanji is thankful for the small plastic straw pressed to his lips as he greedily sucks up mouthfuls of cool water.

“Slow down,” Chopper gently scolds him when Sanji nearly chokes, heaving one of his heavy hands up to press it to his mouth as Chopper pulls the straw away. His other hand remains at his side, held down by a warm weight, but Sanji doesn’t think about it much more as Chopper’s cool hooves press against his forehead.

He doesn’t say anything as he assesses Sanji, his touch soft and cooling as he taps on Sanji’s face and presses on parts of his body. Sanji’s eyes slip close as he breathes heavily through his mouth, trying to think past the pounding heaviness in his head and the way his body feels like it’s on fire, but getting absolutely nowhere.

“You have kiiroi fever,” Chopper explains to him faintly from somewhere beside him. “From the mosquitos. It’s fast acting, but you’ve been out for three days.”

Three days? Sanji’s alarm is beaten by his lack of energy, and he blearily opens his eyes just as Chopper lays a cool cloth over his forehead, the relief brief but instant.

He swallows thickly as he taps his fingers against his throat, the movement the easiest he’s done so far. “Three days?”

“Mmhm,” Chopper muses, his face appearing over his. “You fainted in the jungle. Zoro carried you back but by the time you got here, you’d become so feverish that you were slipping in and out of consciousness.” He presses his hooves down on the cloth over Sanji’s forehead, causing wonderful cool drips of water to slide through his hair. “Your fever has broken but you’ll still feel the after effects for a while. With your constitution, you’ll be fine in a few days.”

Sanji lifts his hand up to wrap his fingers around Chopper’s wrist. His words hitch though when he sees the heavy bandages around his arm, and he can feel the weight of another on the arm still pinned at his side.

Chopper sighs as he follows Sanji’s line of sight. “You did some damage, but they should heal with hopefully minimal to no scarring.”

A lump forms in Sanji’s throat, and he squeezes Chopper’s wrist. “Thank you, Chopper.”

Chopper smiles at him, his eyes watery as he lowers Sanji’s hand back to his chest. “You scared us,” he says softly. “I’ve never seen Zoro quite like that before.”

“Zoro?” Sanji manages to ask, and Chopper inclines his head to the side.

“He hasn’t left your side since he brought you back,” he explains. “I think this might be the first time he’s slept, too.”

Sanji follows the movement of his head, only to be utterly floored when it’s to see Zoro sitting on a hard wooden chair right beside his bed, his head pillowed on his arms where they rest alongside Sanji’s hip, his face slack with sleep as his shoulders rise and fall in gradual rhythmic movements. Sanji feels a lump form in his throat, something thick and painful he can’t swallow past, and it only grows tighter when he realises that the weight on his left hand… is actually Zoro’s own.

“Oh.” Sanji’s eyes sting, and he blames the sheer exhaustion in his bones for the way all his emotions rush to the surface, barely able to be held at bay. “He…”

No words come though, and Sanji’s hand twitches under Zoro’s. He focuses on the touch, on the rough scarred fingers interlaced with his own, the strength he knows they’re capable of forgiven instead to a gentle hold. It’s completely overwhelming, and Sanji is just about to turn back to Chopper when a hoarse voice speaks out.

“Cook?”

Sanji’s eyes snap across to see Zoro looking right back, his solitary grey eye bleary as he blinks up at Sanji, and Sanji offers him a small smile that hurts at the edges.

“Hey Marimo,” he murmurs, the words easier now but still ragged and coarse, and he sees a flicker of concern in Zoro’s gaze as the swordsman starts to raise his head. Sanji doesn’t know where the strength comes from, but he pulls his hand down from his chest to rest it on top of Zoro’s head, slipping his fingers through soft strands of green hair. “Go back to sleep, I’m okay.”

Zoro stares at him for a long moment before his gaze slips over to Chopper with clear question. Chopper just nods back at him though, reaching out to pat Zoro’s shoulder as he smiles fondly at him.

“He’s doing fine, Zoro,” he tells him calmly, and Sanji punctuates the sentence with a light stroke of his thumb over Zoro’s forehead, the swordsman leaning into the touch almost as if without thinking. “You can relax now.”

It seems to do the trick, and Zoro’s shoulders slump before he glances back up at Sanji. He squeezes Sanji’s hand, his fingers tightening around Sanji’s own, and Sanji brushes his fingers through Zoro’s hair, stroking it in a way he hopes is soothing.

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” Sanji murmurs, and Zoro lets out a small huff as he drops his head back onto his pillowed arms, his eye slowly slipping closed as his breathing starts to even back out again.

He doesn’t let go of Sanji’s hand though, their fingers remaining tightly interlaced where they lie at Sanji’s side, and that lump is back as Sanji tries to swallow past it, tries to blink away the stinging of his eyes.

Instead, something heavy crushes against Sanji’s chest, and as he gently runs his fingers through Zoro’s hair over and over… he’s not entirely sure he can blame it on the fever.

…

Pirate’s aren’t exactly known for being a loving lot.

Fortunately, the Straw Hat pirates never have followed the usual mould of a pirate crew. Sanji figured that one out pretty quickly after joining, what with the mess of a swordsman cut in half, a missing navigator that stole their ship from them, and a marksman who wouldn’t know how to tell the truth if his life depended on it. They’re nothing if not unconventional, but Sanji guesses that just comes part and parcel when the captain of their crew is an optimistic, bordering on delusional, teenage boy made of rubber.

Nevertheless, the Straw Hat’s are more affectionate than usual. Sanji wasn’t used to it at first, having been raised knowing love as a kick to the head or a harsh insult. He’s not bitter about it, he knows that Zeff tried his hardest but he never intended on raising a child. He did his best, and Sanji will always be thankful for the man who stepped up to be his father, his true father.

So it doesn’t come naturally, the casual touches and the kind words. The first time Luffy wraps him up in his arms is after Arlong, when Luffy is laughing in a way that makes Sanji think he’s insane, only made worse as Luffy catches him with a stray hand and drags him into a firm hug. One by one the others had been pulled in too, all of them protesting as hard as they can, but Luffy has always been an unstoppable force and Sanji had found his face shoved into Usopp’s afro, his shoulder jammed into Nami’s armpit, and his arm caught between Luffy and Zoro’s chests.

But then Zoro’s arm had found his waist, Nami’s cheek rested against his shoulder, and Usopp’s back had pressed to his chest… and as Luffy’s chin had dropped down on top of his head, Sanji had realised this whole loving thing?

It’s actually pretty easy.

That doesn’t mean it doesn’t get a little much sometimes. Sanji knows that his illness from the jungle island had scared his crew something fierce. Chopper’s remarks were further proven as over the few days he’d spent conscious and recovering in the infirmary, his crew had filtered in to see him nonstop. 

Nami had lectured him with red cheeks and wild eyes until her words turned quieter and softer, and Sanji had held her hand gently between his own as she’d slumped on the edge of his bed. Robin came to read to him, perched at his bedside with matching cups of tea for them both as her calming voice lulled him to sleep. Brook sat with him in comfortable silence, his violin draped over his lap untouched before Sanji asked him quietly to play a song from the East Blue, something that reminded him of carelessly dancing through a half-built kitchen as a child. Franky appeared smelling like burnt wood and gunpowder, the invention gripped in hand smoking something fierce, and Sanji had laughed until it hurt when Chopper had chased the cyborg from the infirmary with a broom much too large for him.

Usopp slept in the corner for a whole day after his night watch, tired but determined to sit with Sanji like the others, only leaving when Jinbei had slipped in to pick him up. He’d paused to press a hand to Sanji’s forehead, his cool skin sweet against Sanji’s feverish skin, and Jinbei had offered him a few soft words before carrying the drooling sniper from the room.

Luffy had been last, slinking in with serious eyes and his straw hat gripped tightly in hand. He didn’t say much, just looked at Sanji until he managed a smile, and that had seemed to be enough to bring back Luffy’s own. He’d sat cross-legged at the end of his bed, told terrible jokes that didn’t make sense, and Sanji cheeks had hurt long after their captain left him.

And through it all, Zoro remained.

Sanji didn’t question why, still doesn’t. Zoro’s presence was calming. It kept him steady after Nami left, was a comfort when the swordsman dozed to Robin’s stories and Brook’s music, and had been an easy rock to hold onto to wither Luffy’s unwitting storm.

It wasn’t the same as when he’d woken up the first time though. Zoro let go of his hand and didn’t pick it back up again, something that made Sanji’s heart clench, but there were other things instead. He slept draped over Sanji’s knees, his knuckles brushed Sanji’s side when he rested his hands down, his touch was gentle when he replaced the cooling rag on Sanji’s forehead or the sheets of his cot. 

Sanji tried to protest, not wanting to be a burden. Zoro had simply rolled his eyes and ignored him… and Sanji isn’t afraid to admit it made his heart sing.

So by the time Sanji finally leaves the infirmary, he’s well and truly ready for a bit of a break. He loves his crew, unconditionally and without fault, but he also is used to his own space. Stepping back into the galley relieves a weight he didn’t realise was on his shoulders, and he takes a moment to run his hands over the bench tops, thankful Franky and Nami didn’t burn the kitchen down in his absence.

The first meal he cooks is dinner. He keeps it simple, fried flat bread and sea beast curry alongside a selection of different sandwiches. Unsurprisingly, he’s joined by Robin. She settles up at the bench top, deftly flipping through her latest book as she sips the cup of coffee Sanji places in front of her, and they both pretend like he can’t feel her eyes on him as he cooks. Typically, he finds himself lagging halfway through the dinner preparations, not quite having his usual energy levels, but he satisfies Robin’s concerned remarks with a brilliant smile and an untroubled laugh. Despite it, he still manages to make enough food to feed the ravenous crew that Robin’s disembodied hands carry over to the table before they all trample through the door at his call.

Dinner passes as rambunctiously as usual. There’s heated arguments and almost all out brawls, food splatters all over the table and a couple of plates nearly don’t survive. Luffy ends up chewing on Brook’s hand at one stage in retribution for the skeleton trying to bat him away, Franky starts singing a bawdy sea shanty that makes Robin cover Chopper’s ears with a few too many extra hands, and Zoro face plants his plate of sandwiches when Usopp smacks him around the back of the head for feeding Luffy bits of food from Nami’s plate.

Sanji sits amongst it all, watching fondly as his crew play at their terrible antics. Admittedly, he’s missed it, even if he’s too exhausted to join in. Instead, he takes the opportunity to lean heavily against Jinbei’s side as he picks at his curry, moving the meat around in the sauce rather than eating it. Jinbei doesn’t seem to mind, shifting to accommodate Sanji’s head where it rests against his upper arm, and Sanji is thankful for the fishman’s reassuring presence.

“That was amazing, Sanji,” Nami coos at the end as they all recline back in their chairs, stuffed full and satisfied. “It’s so nice to have you back.”

Sanji gives her a tired smile, not quite able to muster up his usual excitement at a comment from their beautiful navigator. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, my darling,” he says though. “I apologise it was so simple.”

Nami waves him off, but it’s Usopp beside him that nudges him sharply in the ribs. “Seriously? You’ve only just been cleared by Chopper. I think you’re excused from,” he waves a hand in the air, “well, everything.”

Sanji gives him a flat look. “Usopp,” he says but trails off when Usopp raises his eyebrows pointedly in return. He rolls his eyes before he starts to sit up, pushing himself up off of Jinbei. “There’s dessert as well-”

He’s stopped by Jinbei’s hand on his shoulder. “Allow us, please.”

Sanji hesitates, not wanting to seem weak, but Usopp is already up and bullying Zoro into helping him with the macarons where they lie ready on the bench top. The two of them distribute the few plates evenly down the table, weary of Luffy’s grimy hands as he snatches for them, and Sanji catches Zoro’s wrist as the swordsman leans over him, stopping him from putting down one of the plates.

“That ones yours,” he tells him quietly, the three more bitter matcha macarons green against the orange and pink of the tangerine and strawberry ones on the table. Zoro hovers over him for a minute, and when Sanji glances up its to see the swordsman frowning as if deep in thought.

The moment passes though, and Sanji lets go of Zoro’s arm before leaning back in his chair. The crew have settled into eating the macarons happily, surprisingly calm in a juxtaposition against their usual lack of inanity, and Sanji accepts one that Usopp hands to him to nibble on quietly. Zoro returns to his seat across from him, slumping down into it with that frown still on his face, but it melts away into a pleased smile as he takes his first bite of a matcha macaron.

It makes something flip in Sanji’s stomach, he thinks of rough fingers linked with his own, and he averts his eyes as he feels his cheeks start to warm.

Once dessert is finish, the crew begin to filter out of the galley. Brook and Usopp both offer to do the dishes, leaning over the bench top to where Sanji has already started them, almost up to his elbows in hot soapy water, however Sanji shakes his head politely. He doesn’t say it out loud, but the implication is very strong that he needs some time alone and the dishes are his excuse for it, and Franky gives him a lazy salute as he heads out, Usopp trailing behind him with his unsubtle concerned glances.

The moment the galley door closes, Sanji lets out a small sigh of relief, and he hangs his head over the sink, his slippery fingers gripping the edge of sink as he stands in the silence. He knew he was feeling overwhelmed, but he didn’t realise how tired it was making him.

“Alright, Twirls?”

Zoro’s sudden voice nearly makes him leap a foot, and Sanji’s head snaps up to see Zoro standing on the other side of the bench, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. Sanji didn’t realise he hadn’t left, and he blames his fatigue for his observation haki not even flaring at the swordsman’s continued presence.

“Fine,” he says quickly, giving Zoro what he hopes is a reassuring smile. It doesn’t work with the way Zoro’s eyebrows go up. “Long day.”

Zoro just looks at him, and Sanji can feel the back of his neck start to warm and itch with embarrassment. He glances away, returning to the dishes, grabbing the next dinner plate to start scrubbing at the sticky residue left by the curry. The sound of the crockery banging into the metal sink as he cleans it is too loud in the otherwise quiet room, and Sanji finds himself wishing for Zoro to say something or to leave.

He gets his wish. The sound of Zoro’s boots thunk on the wooden deck as the swordsman moves away from the bench, but Sanji pauses with a frown as he realises they’re not sounding further away, instead much much closer as they come to a stop directly behind him.

What the hell, he starts to think.

His thoughts are abruptly cut off though the second he feels muscular arms snake around his waist, a warm chest press against his back, and a bony chin drop down onto his shoulder.

Sanji’s head snaps up in shock, he stares at the galley wall across from him with wide eyes, and he swallows past his heart where it lurches up into his throat.

“Zoro?” he calls quietly, terrified he’s going to break whatever is happening right now with a single word. His entire body is frozen, coiled and ready to kick the swordsman way, but his brain is screaming screaming screaming to wait, to just wait.

Zoro doesn’t answer for a long moment though, just stays holding onto Sanji as the seconds tick by painfully slow… until finally he shifts and presses his forehead to Sanji’s neck, the move ripping the breath from Sanji’s lungs as he remains stone still in Zoro’s hold.

“Missed you,” Zoro mumbles, his voice muffled into the crook of Sanji’s shoulder, and Sanji’s breath catches in his throat with a sudden hitch.

The moment drags on… and Sanji can’t help the way his heart pounds a furious tattoo into his ribs, those two words causing it to lurch into a fervent cadence. He shakes his head minutely, not wanting to disrupt the swordsman where he still stands against him, his breath warm as it fans the hairs on the back of Sanji’s neck, sending shivers down his spine. A thousand thoughts run through his mind with not a single one sticking long enough to form properly, and he finds himself not sure how to proceed.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he brings a soapy hand up to press to Zoro’s forearm, his fingers brushing over the raised hairs on Zoro’s tanned skin, leaving clinging water drops in his wake.

“You getting soft on me, Mossy?” he asks, his words coming out gentler than he intended.

Zoro arms simply tighten around Sanji in a brief squeeze, fingers pressing into the softness of Sanji’s sides before twisting up in the bagginess of Sanji’s shirt, and the swordsman remains silent behind him.

Sanji smiles all the same.

“You could at least dry,” he mutters, and when Zoro just huffs a laugh into his neck, he pinches the back of Zoro’s arm with his nails. “Oi, you big lug.”

Zoro doesn’t move an inch, and Sanji soothes his thumb over the pinch mark before he drops his hands away back into the sink. They don’t say anything more as Sanji continues to wash the dishes, calm and methodical. The room is quiet around them, only broken by the clinking of crockery, the splashing of water, and their soft breathing as they fall into sync, Sanji’s chest rising and falling in time with Zoro’s steady breaths.

And later, when the dishes are cleaned and dried, stacked on the bench ready to be put away… Zoro finally pulls away, red cheeked and scratching the back of his neck as he avoids Sanji’s gaze, his absence leaving Sanji cold and alone.

“Goodnight, Curls,” he murmurs quietly, the first words he’s spoken in over an hour, and Sanji watches with his head spinning as the swordsman shuffles from the galley, his hands opening and closing at his sides as he tries to hold back the urge to reach for the swordsman again.

As the door closes with a gentle click behind Zoro, it leaves the room impossibly empty without him.

…

Sanji doesn’t lie to himself.

It’s not something he’s ever thought to do. Sure, he might stretch the truth every now and again, he’s never come across someone who isn’t predisposed to a little exaggeration or dramatisation before, but living through falsehoods was something he learnt not to do from a very young age.

Growing up the way he did, he figured the only person he could ever trust was himself.

So he knows, without a single sliver of doubt, that he’s in love with Zoro.

It’s a fact as far as he’s concerned. A stone cold fact, no matter how confrontational it might be. There’s no denying the way that his heart quickens when the swordsman is around, how his palms sweat and his cheeks redden, how his head spins and he feels dizzy, how his stomach flutters with nerves and the world feels unsteady beneath his feet.

He also knows he could present all these symptoms to Chopper were he in the habit of lying to himself, but he’s well aware he’d be laughed out of the infirmary… or even worse, Chopper might just take him seriously. Sanji doesn’t think he could live with the mortification of having their sweet little reindeer search for the underlying cause of his symptoms, knowing full-well it’s currently napping out on the Sunny’s lawn.

And the thing is… Sanji isn’t quite sure it’s unreciprocated.

It’s not love, it’s too new to possibly be anything as deep as that, but since Sanji got sick back on that terrible nameless island, he’s had this strange sort of feeling that Zoro might feel something towards him thats more than just nakamaship.

He feels crazy, but there’s no other explanation for the reason the swordsman stayed by his side for so long, for the three days he was unconscious and the days after. Zoro has always been direct, steadfast and honest to even a brutal degree, and Sanji knows that he wouldn’t have slept at his side nor spent that time in the kitchen with him after unless… unless it meant something.

Because it happens again, and again, and again. Zoro’s presence since Wano has been constant, he’s always been in Sanji’s peripherals, whether it’s napping on that lumpy blue couch in the galley or fighting at his side or, shit, even walking beside him whenever they’re together. He’s always been around, but since Sanji got sick it’s just more intense, like the stolen moment in the kitchen a week ago.

He’s just there, but now no longer in the wings. Zoro is completely front and centre and it’s driving Sanji absolutely fucking crazy.

Crazy enough that Sanji decides that, when the time is right, he’s going to have to say or do something about it.

Coincidentally, it happens sooner than expected.

It’s well known amongst their crew these days that Luffy’s need for food and battle is only ever outshone by the need for food after a battle, and more often than not that comes in the form of a party. It’s common enough that Sanji expects it, almost always running through ideas of food to cook in the middle of driving his heel through some marine’s poor head, sometimes even taking inspiration from whatever sort of chaos the Straw Hat’s have wrought on their poor enemy, unsuspecting or not.

So there’s not a shred of surprise when they all clamber back on the Sunny after destroying a small marine stronghold, having unexpectedly come across it after docking for barely an hours stop over on the log pose, that Luffy throws his hands up in the air with a wide grimy grin and dirty clothes that are all but tatters on him, the burning stronghold behind him framing his maniac form with blazing light… and promptly declares a banquet in celebration.

Sanji just blows out a long stream of smoke as an excited Usopp nudges him, and he catches Zoro’s amused eye where the swordsman barely avoids getting taken out by Luffy’s flapping elbows.

His heart flutters, and Sanji quickly looks away.

As expected, the party is spectacular. Spreads of decadent food covers makeshift tables, copious amounts of booze flows freely in wooden tankards, Franky brings out his portable bonfire and the flickering flames cast the Sunny’s lawn in warm glows of orange and red, and Brook strikes up his violin in a selection of jaunty tunes that has even Robin dancing like a fool, spinning around in Luffy’s laughing arms.

The joy is intoxicating, and Sanji finds himself reclining on the bench around the foremast, watching the others over the rim of a tankard of Usopp’s terrible home-brewed mead, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his tie long gone. He spots it where it’s wrapped around one of Chopper’s antlers, the little reindeer giggling something fierce where he’s performing an incredibly inelegant line dance with the others.

And there, mashed between Usopp and Luffy, is Zoro.

Sanji can’t help but feel warm watching the swordsman, a soothing glow settling beneath his skin. He’s missed this Zoro, the Zoro who is so carefree, that doesn’t hesitate to be silly with the others, who remembers that he’s also young and he doesn’t always have to carry the weight of their crew on his shoulders. He misses this Zoro, with a smile so broad and laughter so loud, whose singing is terrible and bawdy and his dancing is so uncoordinated despite his natural grace, whose flushed cheeks burn so bright as he carries a warm happy glow that’s irresistibly contagious.

This is the Zoro he carried around with him on Momoiro Island, tucked in his jacket pocket on a wanted poster, the paper old and worn from being opened and closed over and over. This is the Zoro still resting in that jacket he has long since outgrown where it hangs in the back of his locker, the imprint of the poster pressed into the fabric.

It’s this Zoro that that comes stumbling towards him, all red cheeks and sun-kissed freckles as he crashes down on the bench beside him, loose limbed and vibrant as he tumbles sideways, his head pillowing onto Sanji’s shoulder. Sanji’s heart thunders, beating that now familiar tattoo into his ribs, and his hands tighten around the tankard in his lap.

“Alright, Marimo?” he murmurs, the words fond as he glances down at green hair, and Zoro huffs against him before he lolls his head up to look up at him, his eye crinkled from his easy smile, and his hand grips Sanji’s knee suddenly.

“Dance with me, Cook?” Zoro asks, and Sanji freezes, his breath hitches in his throat, and he meets that warm grey eye.

He blames the high of the moment, the swell of pure affection he feels looking down at Zoro, that makes him toss his tankard to the ground before standing in a quick flourish, dragging Zoro with him before he kicks them up into the air.

Zoro lets out a bark of laughter as they go, Sanji skywalking them up above the bonfire to the cat calls and cheers of their crew below, and Sanji loops his arms around Zoro’s waist to hold him securely as Zoro’s own wrap around his shoulders.

“Not quite what I had in mind,” Zoro says, shaking his head despite the mirth in his eye. Sanji just grins at him, cocky and sure, as he leads Zoro around in graceful spins, matching the cheerful beat of Brook’s violin below.

“Luffy can’t get us from here,” Sanji points out, just in time to hear the cracking sound of rubber followed by Nami shouting. “At least I hope not.”

Zoro snorts, and it shouldn’t be attractive. He doesn’t reply though, just leans completely into Sanji, allowing him to hold him up. Sanji feels drunk on the show of trust, and his heart beats a furious crescendo as they twirl through the air, dancing around and around in elegant circles as the fire beneath them warms their legs.

And then Zoro leans forward, pressing their foreheads together, and Sanji’s heart lurches still.

“Curls,” Zoro says quietly, enough so that Sanji nearly doesn’t hear it. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

Sanji’s breath is ragged, emotions he can’t possibly name buzzing beneath his skin, and his arms tighten around Zoro’s waist. “Zoro?”

Zoro closes his eye though, like he’s bracing himself for something, and Sanji barely hears his next words over the sound of his blood rushing in his ears, of his heart bursting his ear drums.

“Cook… Sanji,” Zoro murmurs, “I love you.”

Sanji’s world stops.

They come to a halt, hanging together in midair, and Sanji finds all the breath ripped from his lungs in one fell swoop. Their foreheads are still pressed together, they’re sharing the air between them, and Sanji’s entire body feels like it’s on fucking fire.

“Zoro,” he gasps, grasping for words he can’t find, and Zoro opens his eye as he pulls back just the slightest, a small smile on his lips.

“I’ve been trying to tell you since Wano.”

Sanji’s eyes widen, his heart seizes. “Since Wano?”

It’s been months since then, months of…

Oh.

“I’m not good with words. Never have been.” Zoro continues and he shrugs, looking a little helpless around the edges. “But I figured you’d get it when you were ready.”

“When I was ready?” Sanji demands, unable to help the panic lacing through his words, his mind utterly blown and unusable. How they’re still hovering in the air, he isn’t sure. “What? How long…”

He trails off at the helpless look on Zoro’s face. “Shit, Cook,” he says, and his hands tighten around Sanji’s shoulders. “I’ve loved you since at least Thriller Bark.”

Sanji’s mouth falls open and he promptly drops them back to the Sunny. Zoro lets out a grunt as they hit the deck, his legs buckling under him, and Sanji’s hold is the only thing that keeps him standing. Although Sanji lets go quickly, his arms snatching back to his sides as his hands shake, his heart racing and thoughts going completely and utterly batshit crazy.

It’s the wrong thing to do as Zoro suddenly straightens up, his smile vanishing as something hard settles in its place, disappointment flashing in his gaze before it shutters down to something impassive and wrong.

“I…” he starts hesitantly, and Sanji’s head is spinning spinning spinning as Zoro clenches his jaw and looks away. “Look, Cook, I don’t expect you to-”

Sanji kisses him.

He surges forward, his shaking hands snatching out to grab Zoro’s jaw before he hauls the swordsman across that minute distance between them, meeting him halfway. Zoro lets out a surprised noise as he stumbles forward before both his hands come up to cup Sanji’s head, fingers tangling into his hair, tilting Sanji’s head back firmly as he takes over.

And fuck, it’s overwhelming, exhilarating. Sanji pours all his feelings into the kiss, gripping Zoro like a starving man, moving to loop his arms around Zoro’s neck and press them chest to chest. One of Zoro’s hands drops to his waist, somehow dragging Sanji closer as he dips him slightly, and Sanji lets out a startled noise that Zoro gleefully uses to deepen the kiss in a way that makes Sanji’s knees weak.

They break apart gasping, Sanji’s eyes opening just to see stars in front of them, and he sags in Zoro’s hold as he breathes in heavy drags of air into his tight chest.

Zoro’s hand tightens around his waist as he opens his eye, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly as he meets Sanji’s gaze.

“Fuck,” Sanji swears, breathless as the word tumbles from his swollen lips, “I’m such an idiot.”

Zoro grins, wild and brilliant. “Idiot cook,” he agrees, and Sanji narrows his eyes before he kicks him right in the shin, making Zoro wince even as his hold on Sanji remains steady.

“Says the idiot about to give me the ‘its okay if you don’t feel the same way speech’,” Sanji mutters darkly, tugging gently on the green hairs at the nape of Zoro’s neck.

Zoro doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. “You’re kind of hard to read, Curls,” he says as he butts their foreheads together, and Sanji wrinkles his nose as the swordsman pulls back.

He pauses for a moment though, eyes searching Zoro’s, before he leans in again, sliding his hand around to cup Zoro’s jaw. Their second kiss is gentler, chaste, just a soft press of the lips as Sanji’s thumb caresses over the arch of Zoro’s cheekbone before he slowly pulls back.

Zoro’s gaze is warm, almost blissed, and Sanji can’t help his small smile.

“That make it easier?” he asks.

Zoro laughs, soft and sweet. “Loud and clear.”

…