Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Law wasn’t sure when living became less of a chore, and more like something he was looking forward to.

He only found out when Sanji was brought to the hospital by a frantic Usopp in the middle of the night. The butler was choking on his sobs the same way when he brought the blond to Law on Sora’s very first birthday. Brown eyes wide, asking the doctor what he should do and the same eyes filling with tears when it clicks that the only reason Usopp can carry Sanji in his arms so effortlessly, was because the omega was so much thinner than usual.

Law knows why he stopped surviving for the sake of actually living , when for the first time in so long his feet rush through the halls, white from the hospital walls and blue from nurses’ uniforms merging together. When the only clear thing in his vision was the door to the room Law for the first time prayed was vacant. 

The room the alpha always reserved for that one special person in his heart. Why? Because in the entire hospital for criminals, that very room was the cleanest one, the brightest one, the most comfortable because the surgeon tried his best to make it such, and far away from the thugs that Law’s person shouldn’t be around.

One of those thugs was now standing outside the room three hundred and twenty.

When you work for Mihawk it’s hard not to recognise that stark green hair of his adoptive son.

The man was standing there, head hanging between limp shoulders as if he had any right to be sad. As if he didn’t abandon and hurt the only person in the entire universe that Law thinks deserves the world. The only valid thing that bastard Roronoa had done was give Sanji the son that the omega can’t live without.

The next thing may seem childish, but that’s just what Sanji brings out of the pessimistic doctor. Law rose his head high, walking towards the room where his treasure rests as if Roronoa wasn’t standing in the way. The doctor shoved the other man’s shoulder with his own, causing the alpha to stumble. It was a petty thing, forceful enough to let the mafia leader know that it was deliberate.

“I see I’m getting popular,” was what Law heard when he finally entered the room. “Two visitors in the past five minutes.”

And there was that special person, sitting in the bed that Law brought the most expensive blankets and pillows to create a pathetic parody of a nest. It has been enough time for the doctor to stop denying that all these things he had done for Sanji were very much an alpha courting an omega. As always the brunette refused to indulge in such behaviour at first but gave in quite quickly after seeing that oblivious smile.

“You look exhausted. Have you slept at all?” Law hated and loved the worry in those blue eyes.

He knows he should answer. Reassure the blond that he was fine, just a little tired, even if it was a complete lie. 

How could Law sleep safe and sound, when Sanji is dying? How could he, when the person who became the ray of light in his mundane life is in pain? So the doctor stood there, looking at every inch of the blond’s face, memorising every eyelash, every freckle, looking at the pale hands that cooked lunches with gentleness and care. The alpha was sure he looked like a fool, staring with some expression that made Sanji look sorrowful himself.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make lunch for you today,” the blond said after a minute, trying his best to divert Law’s attention from the IV stuck in his arm and the weak beeping of the monitors. “You see, this room doesn’t have a stove,” Sanji weakly chuckled at his own joke.

“Stop it, Sanji. You’re only making it worse,” Law managed to whisper with a cracking voice.

The doctor wished not to be the reason for the omega’s defeated look. The blond wasn’t even surprised when Law told him about the sudden decline in health, the failing organs and poisoned blood. Sanji just sighed, as if it was expected.

How could he be so calm about this? As if at the blond’s twenty-four years he has been told every day about the unknown genetic mutation that is slowly killing him.

“Will it affect Sora?” was the only thing he said at the news, thoughts lost not in the despair of inevitable death, but in the ways the omega can care for his son even from the other side. Because Sanji was just so kind and selfless.

“It won’t,” Through years of knowing each other, Law found out about the younger man’s mother. About the medical history and inhumane experiments. The illness Sanji is suffering from now is a somatic mutation due to the poison his mother drank during pregnancy, and they don’t get inherited. So Sora is safe.

Law spent the entire night analysing the blond’s blood, desperately testing, hoping that some miracle would bless him and the alpha would find a cure overnight. And the doctor couldn’t help but find it shameful, how his patient was the one to console him when Law was supposed to be Sanji’s support.

“Come here,” Sanji whispered in return, reaching out his thin arms to the taller man. And who was Law to refuse the person he gave his heart to? The doctor selfishly wished to drown in that embrace, memorise how those hands felt on his back as he tried his best not to break down. How the blond smells when he releases that sweet calming scent.

You see, Law is a man of mind. Practical, life made him cold-hearted too. He doesn’t believe in magic.

But how could deny the existence of magic, when Sanji barged into his life? The things the blond makes him feel are certainly some sort of spell.

Law is convinced that magic is the omega’s smile when he teases him. It is the kindness that the alpha didn’t ask for. It’s the care that persistently never relented no matter how much Law pushed him away. It’s the lunches Sanji makes, bending to every complaint the doctor would make up, just to selfishly bask in the fact that the blond would tailor the dishes to his taste and his only.

It’s the way that elegant hand petting his black hair can calm him in an instant, just like Cora-san’s did.

“What am I supposed to do…?” Law rasped, pathetically clutching at the soft sweater Sanji was wearing, hoping to selfishly keep the omega by his side, where he was safe.

Law knew that this would be the moment to confess. To confess that the blond’s existence was what breathed that feeling of anticipation into his life again since Corazon. To say that Sanji was so weird yet wonderful when he would simply laugh at the insults the alpha would call him in a futile attempt to keep the omega away. 

To say that no matter whose mark lays on that pearly-white neck, Law still imagines them together and the doctor’s heart flourishes anew while the world seems to pause.

That Law loves him like he never knew he was capable of.

But that confession will sound like a goodbye. Instead of saying it, Law would rather show it. Show it by kidnapping him and Sora to run somewhere far away. Not the North Blue, because Sanji hates the cold, and not the South Blue because he always complains about sunburns. Show it by being there for his son. Be there for the omega at his beck and call during the day, and working sleeplessly on the cure during the night. Sanji would complain, ask him to sleep, Sora would join in like his Mama’s loyal boy, and Law would refuse because why sleep when you can stay every waking moment with him? He would make a new breakthrough in medicine just to keep Sanji by his side a little longer.

Law promised himself he would uncover his feelings when he cures Sanji.

“One year and you…” It would be pointless to hide the few tears Law let out because when people close to Sanji suffer, the blond never lets go. That man will dig up your grave if he manages to find out that you were struggling in silence just to make sure you are happy.

And he cries. Because since meeting the omega, Law didn’t act the same. No matter how much he tried to look distant, Sanji would effortlessly pull him right back in. The alpha nature he always ignored would tear through him, desperate to treasure and protect the blond. Suddenly he had so much love to give, but he was never taught what to do with it.

Yet Law knows that he can love Sanji better than that bastard Roronoa ever will.

“You are going to be okay,” Sanji whispered, the tone oh so painfully gentle. The pale fingers ran through the hair of the alpha that was desperately clinging to his chest, comforting as if Law was a lost child.

And he was. Because how is he going to find his way forward without him?

“You will be just fine.” 

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Sanji didn’t have time to mop. To feel depressed from the ultimate fate that is going to take him.

He needed to act fast because no matter what people said, a year was not enough to guarantee that Sora had enough love from him stored to last the rest of his life. 

Enough care to get through school. Enough warmth to be confident and make friends. Oh my, puberty is another thing! The little boy isn’t aware that he is an alpha himself just yet, so will he be okay there without Sanji when his body goes through changes? And what will Sora do when he finds his first partner?! Sanji won’t be there to comfort him through his first break-up! Oh, and how much the blond wants to see his little boy graduate!

Sanji must ensure Sora won’t even notice that he is gone. But how?

Robin loves the boy to the moon and back, the same goes for Sora, yet the omega cannot expect her to do something like this. Robin is the kindest woman Sanji knows, but he already has been leaching off her too much. She wants to build her own family, and the blond doesn’t want to invade that.

Usopp is too young. Sure, he might have some sort of feeling of duty as a friend, but the beta barely knows what he wants for himself. The butler only recently had the balls to confess to Kaya, and he still stutters when Sanji calls her his girlfriend. A child of his dead best friend would probably give him grey hairs.

Law would be the best option, but as of now, the doctor is working himself to the bone on the cure and rejects any possibility that Sanji might not survive. He sleeps less, if at all, walks around like a gloomy ghost and is in his own mind more often than not lately. All because of Sanji.

Zeff is off nearly immediately, no matter how much Sanji loves the old man. The omega owes him way too much by now to burden him further with his stupid inability to stay alive long enough. He is old as well, running around after a hyperactive pup most likely will kill the guy.

And if only Zeff wasn’t living in Germa.

With immense reluctance, teeth grinding while his face was trying its best not to make a disgusted grimace, Sanji’s mind settled on him . 

To get that moss-covered bastard to grow a pair and stop being an ass will be an impossible task, but Sanji will climb his way up to Skypiea with his legs and arms tied for Sora.

Ugh, that made him hate that Marimo even more! How come he gets to see all these wonderful moments of Sora becoming an adult?! Oh lord, Sanji won’t be there for his wedding! Or see his grandkids. Lucky moss-headed gorilla!

Sighing, the omega stopped drilling the window with his heated blue eyes, lest the glass melts and invites the snowflakes into his hospital room.

Sanji needs to make some calls to get his plan started.

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“It’s time for you to take a little vacation, Zoro-san.”

“Huh?!”

“No need to worry, I will cover for you and continue the personal investigation you think I don’t know about.”

“But-!”

“Rest well, Zoro-san. I’m sure Sora will appreciate it.”

As soon as Zoro came back from the hospital to the headquarters, Robin was standing there with the clothes he kept in his office’s wardrobe. The secretary had that dangerous glint in her eyes that indicated that no matter how you struggled, she would get what she wanted.

The reason for Robin’s sudden unprofessional disobedience was that Sanji was staying in the hospital for three more days to monitor his health.

Zoro was sure it was just a bad dream when Sanji said he was dying.

“Sora has Usopp!” The man argued not because he didn’t want to see Sora again. Of course not. Zoro distanced himself for the very reason of wanting to be with them too much . 

He argued because he had no idea how to act with kids. The first half of his teenage years Zoro was blinded by rage and yearning for revenge. That’s how he lived and still does. For over ten years since nineteen, all the alpha knew was the underworld of blood, cruelty and pain. Will Zoro really be capable of helping someone live instead of taking that life away?

“Usopp has taken a leave as well, to spend time with his loved one,” and maybe Robin had added something about how he should do the same, but Zoro was too busy trying to keep himself in the doorway of his office, while the alpha’s secretary tried, and was succeeding actually, pushing her boss into the hallway. That woman was freakishly strong.

“Who let him?!”

“Your husband. Now go,” Robin finalised with the last forceful push that managed to rip Zoro’s hold on the doorway. The man tried his best not to fall face down, but when he turned around to try and convince Robin to babysit Sora herself, the door was slammed shut right in front of his exasperated face.

Zoro supposes he has no other option. He might be an unwilling yakuza member, but he isn’t cruel enough to leave a helpless pup alone in the house to starve.

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It has been the most excruciating three days.

Zoro wished he knew babysitting the kid was more than just feeding him.

When he came home, he heard light taps on the floor hurrying towards him. His son was already babbling about something he saw or had done, calling for his mother every other word. But the excited squeals abruptly stopped when Sora didn’t see Sanji.

“Papa?” The boy looked confused and rather shy at first. Not that Zoro could blame him, they never actually have been face-to-face before.

And speaking of the face.

Sora was a carbon copy of his husband. Blue eyes stared intently into his, completely ignorant to the fact that his father was a whole ass leader in the underworld. The chubby face was littered with freckles and moles, making the boy look like an elegant aristocrat. And the curly eyebrows looked just as cute on his tan face.

Yes, he had the caramel skin from Zoro, along with green hair and a sharp eye shape. That constant grumpy tilt of his eyebrows that made up a permanent resting scowl on that little face might be the alpha’s doing too. But those are little unimportant details, all Zoro could see was Sanji’s face.

The kid was very quiet, reminiscent of Zoro himself when he was younger. It was better for the man since he had absolutely no idea how to play with kids. Sora was in the living room mumbling something under his breath while drawing, occasionally tapping the crayon with a rhythm. So Zoro decided to leave the kid to it as he disappeared into his office.

However, after a few hours, Zoro suddenly heard a cry.

Rushing into the living room where the noise came from, the alpha saw Sora crying his lungs out, holding his little hands to his forehead next to the sofa. Oh shit, Zoro forgot kids like to climb things and fall from them too.

What the actual fuck do people do when children cry? Feed them!

Zoro ran like he never had in his life to the fridge, only to find it full of raw ingredients rather than actual food. He can’t just give the kid a fucking cabbage head and get on with it, can he?!

Pups like sweet things don’t they? So Zoro went through the trouble of opening every kitchen cabinet for the sake of finding something edible at least. The top shelves were full of plates and cups. Why the hell do they need so many? Is Sanji feeding an army here? All look fancy and expensive no less. The bottom row consisted of spices and dry foods. What in the world is Car-da-nom? Car-da-non?

Zoro only managed to find what he was looking for in a secret thin cabinet hidden in the top corner that didn’t even look like a cabinet in the first place. There were chocolates, candies, caramels, crisps and many more. Like a dreamland for people with a perverted obsession with sweets.

The alpha ignored the mess he made while frantically turning the kitchen upside down and grabbed some cookies from a nice jar.

On his way back to the living room Zoro’s nose caught his favourite scent of cinnamon. Stopping in his tracks, he looked around to find the source. It turned out to be a well-worn, yet soft and fluffy blanket that just smelled of Sanji. Kids like the scent of their mothers, so the alpha grabbed that too and continued on his way to his crying son.

Sora stopped crying immediately but just glared at Zoro in confusion when his father started wrapping him into a blanket. The alpha didn’t know any better than him as to what the fuck he was doing.

Wiping the sweat on his forehead from all the running, Zoro looked proud of his work. Sora may be looking like a grumpy caterpillar, but at least he wasn’t crying anymore. The kid wasn’t happy with the confinement so his face scrunched and his body started wiggling.

When Zoro noticed the boy’s frustration he quickly plopped a cookie into that frowning mouth and waited with baited breath. He just prayed it was going to work.

Sora munched on it a little, the furrow in his eyebrows didn’t relent at first. But after tasting the treat a little better, the sweetness melted on his tongue as he smiled. His Mama always makes the best cookies! The scent from his restraining blanket was Mama’s too!

Sighing a breath of relief, Zoro relaxed. Not for long, because as soon as his gaze wandered around and landed on the clock, he realised it was afternoon already and they still hadn’t eaten.

They had ingredients in the fridge, but Zoro didn’t know how to cook for shit. He has been too busy spying on competing yakuza groups to learn, and buying ready-made food was easier. He would do just that, in case he burns down the place or even worse, poisons the kid with his experiments.

Zoro wasn’t lost on his way back, okay? He was not. Just took a little extra time to appreciate the scenery.

When he finally found his house, the alpha was greeted with colourful drawings of what seemed to be music notes. Not on paper but on the walls. Who knew that when you leave children alone at home for a couple of hours they turn your home into a fucking rainbow?

Zoro sighed for the hundredth time today. He will deal with that later.

Yet that ‘later’ never came, because when Zoro presented his son with store-bought curry, it took Sora one bite to start crying again.

“Mama’s food is better!”

That was the moment when Sora finally caught on that Sanji was not coming home any time soon and he was stuck with the guy he only saw in pictures. Fuck .

As soon as it clicked, the boy was inconsolable. He would wail as if the world was ending, crying out and demanding to see Sanji. Then he would get tired, but the pout and sniffles remained. One look at Zoro’s face would remind Sora that it wasn’t his mother, and the cycle would begin again.

The alpha knew that Sora had a special and loving connection with Sanji, but he didn’t know just how strong of a bond it was. The boy was restless through the night as well, napping only for a couple of hours before inevitably waking up again.

Sora even tried to leave the house and look for Sanji himself in the middle of the night. It was hard not to feel like a kidnapper of some sort when Zoro decided it would be easier to guard the door instead of sleeping, just to make sure the kid didn’t run away.

That was how these hellish three days passed.

Today was the day when Sanji was meant to finally come back, but Zoro could not bring himself to feel relieved.

He just sat on the floor, eyebags big enough to store a year's worth of potatoes since he hadn’t slept for three days straight. Sora was right in front of him, crying out for his mother yet again, surrounded by wrappers of candy and pillows with blankets that smelled even just a bit of Sanji. His sweet-and-blanket method didn’t work again no matter how much he tried.

A loud drop of bags on the floor was the only warning Zoro got before he was drop-kicked straight to his green head.

“You had one job, you stupid seaweed!”

The was Sanji in his furious glory, glaring at him with the bluest eyes that spilt over the room like waves, sparkling freckles with the power of a thousand stars and golden hair that looked angelic. The omega was shining. Or maybe it was the concussion that the blond gave him.

“Did you feed my baby with all this chemical-infused garbage?!” Sanji shouted, throwing his arms around in agitation and pointing at the containers of store-bought lunches littering the house, some of them even looking disgustingly sluggish on Sora’s little plates.

“Has he been crying?!” The omega suddenly squealed seeing his pleasantly baffled son, who was startled out of crying by his mother’s colourful return. Sanji’s discovery cost Zoro a few sudden kicks to his stomach before the blond rushed to their son.

“Oh no, my dear, don’t be scared, Mama is here. I will protect you from the incompetent green monsters!” Sanji’s voice was a clear contrast between the rough shouting at Zoro and sweet whispers with Sora.

“Did you even give him a shower, you stupid Mosshead?!” Sanji’s attention snapped back to Zoro, the glare clearly just willing him to disappear from this house and die.

Zoro couldn’t help but notice that this Sanji was not the husband that he had known so far.

His husband was quiet, always looking at the floor for the sake of the old omega etiquette. He bowed whenever Zoro would make a rare visit home, standing there like a statue, posture straight, body language as neutral as possible and the scent barely detectable. In other words, a picture-perfect omega that obeys, never speaks their mind and provides when asked.

But Sanji is the complete opposite. He is loud, insulted Zoro three times in the past minute. The blond surely didn’t shy away from the death stares that intended to kill. Posture guarded not because he was scared, but because he was protecting Sora. He looked like if the alpha made one sound, Sanji would pounce and insult him ten times more right to the face. He is challenging Zoro. As an equal.

Was it weird that Zoro found that attractive?

“He is clean!” The alpha wheezed out somewhere from his position on the floor, still cradling his stomach that was used as a punching bag. Those kicks were strong for a skinny guy who was supposed to be withering away from an illness. That was attractive too.

“Are you blind?! Don’t you see the big spot on his cute overalls, you good-for-nothing Marimo?!”

“You are delusional! It’s a small thing, he will be fine!”

“Small-?! You are disgusting, Mosshead !”

“Shut up, Curlybrow !”

“Curly-!” Zoro counted it as a victory when Curly stopped calling him names for the sake of slapping an offended hand over the said eyebrow. The action made him grin victoriously. 

When was the last time he smiled?

“Don’t call my Mama names, Marimo !”

That made both adults get silent and turn, just to see Sora running up to Zoro and weakly punching the alpha with his little fists. Seeing that his father barely reacted to his hits, the boy clutched at Zoro’s kimono and pulled it as hard as he could, just to get him away from Sanji.

“Look at my little knight protecting me,” Curly was the first one to break through the stunned silence, just to pick up Sora and squeeze him really tight, placing three loud kisses on his face. That guy seriously had some issues with mood swings. “I can already see the green pond monster trembling!”

Sora wrapped his little arms around his mother protectively, giving the already well-known scowl to Zoro.

“Why don’t you play in the other room for a bit, while I take care of this little business here?”

Sanji put his son down and smiled in a way that would make a lesser man perish on the spot. Hell, even Zoro’s heart stopped, feeling that something dangerous was about to happen to him. Sora, too, straightened up immediately like a soldier, glancing quickly at his dad with worry.

“Oops!” Sora exclaimed, swiftly running up to still-on-the-floor Zoro and squatting down to give an awkward pat to the green head. “Good luck, Papa Marimo!” and ran away, slamming the door shut as if a bomb was about to go off.

Well, fuck.

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That was how he ended up on the floor with his husband’s thighs keeping Zoro in a solid headlock.

Honestly, somewhere deep in his perverted mind, the alpha wouldn’t mind having those thighs around him in any other situation. Hell, judging from the precision, agility and strength of those kicks, Zoro would be elated to spar with Curly in a fair match.

But what was happening right now was simply not fair. Zoro hadn’t slept in three days, and he was deeply caught off guard by Sanji suddenly making a full one-eighty change in personality, not giving the alpha mentally digest that after all, his husband could fight. And did it exceptionally well at that, placing calculating kicks that Zoro didn’t manage to block in time just because Curly was that fast.

As well as usually, bonded people have a dulled sense of danger when it comes to their mate.

So now, Zoro was suffocated by an angry omega sitting on his chest and glaring angrily at him from above.

“Honestly, this show was quite pathetic for a so-called yakuza leader,” Curly looked very self-satisfied, grinning like a sly fox that got his kill. Zoro couldn’t help but think it was a good look on him. The blond suddenly squeezed the alpha’s neck with his legs, bringing the man back to reality where Zoro had no time to stare like a lovestruck fool because he was very much in danger of his neck being spanned in half.

“O-okay you win! Just…let me g-go…already!” The man wheezed out as Sanji was trying his best to make it difficult to breathe. Zoro swallowed his pride when the omega didn’t relent and tapped at the thigh to show that he yielded. But the blond still didn’t listen.

“Now you listen here, green gorilla,” in a moment Sanji leaned to Zoro’s face, hissing out the words. Very close, so much it could be called romantic if the omega wasn’t actively threatening him both emotionally and physically.

“I will let you go only on one condition.”

Talking was getting difficult with blood rushing to your head and painfully pulsing there. So Zoro could only nod, which was still borderline impossible to do, but Curly noticed anyway.

“You will spend more time with Sora. So much time that by the time I’m gone, you two will be inseparable, got it ?”

Oh, so it wasn’t just a nightmare after all.

It was easy to pretend that Sanji’s words weren’t real when the omega was so energetic and full of life right in front of him. Yes, the blond was thinner than he was three years ago, and paler maybe. But the three days of rest in the hospital made Curly bounce right back into life.

The omega also didn’t show any signs of being saddened by his predicament. Barking insults at Zoro, fighting him with eagerness, smiling and laughing with Sora. As if it was the most normal thing to be told you won’t live past this Christmas.

They don’t know each other. Then why does Zoro’s heart bleed so painfully?

“Oh, and if one word escapes your smartass mouth about my condition, I will air fry your balls alive, you hear me?” A finger was jabbing into his forehead, but Zoro was too dazed in his attempt to figure out why and how can it hurt without a tangible wound.

The thing that snapped him out was when the alpha’s eyes started rolling back and the face was no longer red but turning a concerning blue from Sanji tightening his hold on his neck. Zoro nodded as fast as possible. It wasn’t his business telling about Curly’s illness anyway.

“Wonderful!”

And Zoro was left there on the floor beaten up and contemplating his life choices. Maybe getting to know these two wouldn’t be so bad.

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The next morning Zoro has been woken up by a loud slam of the door to his bedroom. Before he could even open his eyes to check what was happening, his breath was knocked the hell out of him by his three-year-old son jumping right onto the man’s stomach.

These Curlybrows just love beating him up, don’t they?

“Papa, Papa, wake up! It’s an emergency!” Sora had some sort of panicked expression on his face, the boy trying to catch his breath as if he was running for his life. That made Zoro wake up instantly.

“Quickly, you need to hide!” the boy swiftly jumped off in his little hustle, already clasping the alpha’s hand with his own, to pull Zoro out of bed in his naked - sans boxers, he is not that weird - glory.

“Calm down, kid, what’s wrong?”

Sora puffed and creaked in an attempt to stuff his dad, who was five times bigger and ten times heavier than him, into the closet. Why? Well, the boy didn’t grace Zoro with an explanation, just started using his little shoulder to shove the man into his ‘bunker’.

Do the people in his household even care about his opinion? He was quick to learn that the answer was no .

Seeing that Zoro, for some unknown reason, isn’t willing to be stuffed into the closet, Sora wipes his forehead from the sweaty evidence of his efforts and furrows his curly eyebrows deep in thought. Mini Curly looked like he won a jackpot as soon as the baby blue eyes landed on the blanket on Zoro’s bed.

The alpha should have predicted that his son would throw it right into his face and start half-heartedly wrapping his dumbfounded parent into the blanket. Well, they do say, like father like son.

“Mini Curly, what the hell is going on?” Zoro asked, but it was muffled by the fabric that was actively used to mummify him.

“Mama is-!”

“Roronoa Zoro!”

Sora jumped. Zoro didn’t. Did not , okay? It would be embarrassing that a notorious heir to the mafia clan of Kuraigana is scared of his own husband.

The two slowly turned to face each other, looking like both of them were caught in the middle of a crime scene. It was the first time Sanji called him by his name, but the fact that it was his full name, surname and all, didn’t sound like he was going to get a loving good morning kiss. What the hell did he do wrong so early in the day?

“Mama found the laundry…” Sora whispered, eyes still wide like a deer caught in the headlights.

He couldn’t have fucked up laundry, right?

“Stay here, I will try to distract him!” Mini Curly said, and ran off, face determined and chest puffed up, looking like Zoro needed protection from the hurricane of his husband.

He didn’t, but maybe his son will manage to soften the inevitable kicks somehow.

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“Honestly, how can he be so stupid?!”

Sanji wasn’t sure how in the world a grown-ass man didn’t know that laundry must be separated. And now he was holding his favourite, and expensive might he add, white shirt made out of silk. Well, not so white anymore, however. All because that overgrown Marimo put his stinky red obi along with it into the washing machine.

If only that was the problem. Because Sora’s white clothes were also pink now! Every single sock too! The scene in front of him looked so sadistic that it just had to be intentional.

And Sanji was supposed to leave his baby boy to these incompetent mossy hands? Over his dead body! Oh well, after all that’s exactly how it’s going to be. Isn’t that ironic?

Sanji might have rushed a little there.

The blond called Robin as soon as he decided to finally bring Zoro to take responsibility for his son. She was elated to hear that, almost as if the secretary was waiting for his call to kick her boss out of the headquarters. He even organised a small trial honeymoon for Usopp and Kaya. Let’s say he isolated every way of escape to tame the tiger.

But everything kind of went not like he planned.

Sanji wanted to pretend like he was a sophisticated, calm omega that was ready to discuss the inevitable future like his death and their pup’s life. He imagined it in the living room, with a straight face and a cup of tea, as they sat across each other and communicated. Like adults.

And of course, Sanji’s temper chose this very moment to explode.

But how could he keep calm when the first thing he saw after coming to the warm house from the cold winter air, was the walls looking like a musician’s manic episode with rainbow-coloured notes? When Sanji saw the kitchen full of plastic containers, cabinets open, and dishes not washed. In three days a whole ass adult Marimo turned the house into a haunted one.

Then he heard his little baby boy, his soul, his treasure cry, and Sanji’s instincts said fuck it .

The only thing that unsettled the omega, was that somehow Sanji’s head was still attached to his body after so openly berating and kicking his alpha husband. Zoro might be compensating for something with three whole swords always at his hip, but the muscles and scars on the man told the blond that maybe it wasn’t all for show.

Zoro just laid there and took a beating, but his brown eyes looked rather surprised than disgusted that an omega was touching and disobeying him. The alpha didn’t fight back, just blocked the blows, and he could land a few good hits on the sickly omega if he really wanted to.

The man looked tired, the kind of tired that you become in the first days of having a child. The first few days of running around in a frenzy, trying to understand what the pup could want to make him happy. Zoro didn’t berate him for Sanji’s secondary gender, yet answered his insults with a few of his own. It wasn’t even a fight, more like a few heated jabs than anything else.

And Sora, despite the crying and messy appearance, looked fine. Wrapped up in Sanji’s pillows and blankets like a silly caterpillar, which was quite endearing. No cuts, bruises only on his knees, but the boy always had them with how hyperactive he was. Sora was crying not because he was scared or hurting, but because he was upset since he quieted down as soon as his glassy eyes spotted Sanji, causing a happy smile to stretch his tan cheeks.

Zoro did not abuse his boy. Good.

But Sanji’s plan ended there. He truly had no idea how to make them ‘inseparable’ like he told Zoro. It’s not like he can really force them to spend time with each other, and if he was honest, after seeing how inadequate that bastard is, he was having second thoughts.

What was the next step in guaranteeing Sora’s happiness?

“Mama, I love you! Please don’t kill Papa Marimo!” his son appeared out of nowhere, arms flailing around in panic using the forbidden weapon to soften Sanji’s anger. The ‘I love you, Mama’ weapon.

And that gave Sanji an idea. Such an amazing idea that will allow the omega to tease the shit out of Marimo and will bring the father and son together. Only the thought made the blond grin manically, which in turn made his son start begging for Zoro’s mercy even more.

You see, Sora was the key to this plan.

“Mr. Knight, I have a serious mission for you!” Sanji crouched down to his son’s level, putting a gentle hand on that little shoulder to convey the seriousness of the mission. Why doesn’t he turn his genius plan into a game for Sora? Why ‘Mr. Knight’? Don’t ask him, the boy insisted on that code name himself for their spy games.

“Yes, Mama Prince!” Sora exclaimed straightening up right away, looking serious which made Sanji nearly cough up his own heart from how cute the little concentrated frown looked.

“It’s Mr. Prince, my dear,” Sanji corrected. 

“Your mission is called ‘Operation Papa: Teach the imbecile’!”

You see, the boy hit the age Sanji calls the ‘who-what-where-when-and-why age’. It’s the time when kids just only recently learned to speak and have an unrelenting interest in this world. They would non-stop start asking about what things are for, what they are called and why.

Sora is no exception. There was a time when his son spent an entire evening asking him about the tools in the kitchen. Sometimes it was tiring, but parenting always occasionally is, but it was also cute in the blond’s opinion.

The funny part is that as soon as Sora learns something, he will take any opportunity to explain everything he knows to you like he is an expert. One time the boy spent an hour trying to explain how the oven works to Sanji, as if he wasn’t the one to use it for as long as he could remember.

Sanji saw Zoro unwillingly approach them, at least with the decency to put on sweatpants. Still no shirt, but the omega doesn’t remember a time when the other didn’t try to show off the scar that bisected his torso. Barbarian . But one step at a time.

The Marimo had perfect timing because the genius operation begins now!

“ Imbecile? ” Sora questions, slowly pronouncing a new complicated word he had just learnt. 

“Yes,” Sanji tried his best to put on a very disheartened expression as he continued, “You see, Papa Marimo has not been blessed with intelligence,” The offended twitch from Zoro made Sanji sadistically chuckle inside.

“Oi-!”

“Oh no! Will he be okay?” Sora unknowingly played along, and honestly, the omega was using every bit of his willpower not to lose his cool right then and there.

“Only you can help him, Mr. Knight!” Sanji grabbed that cute little face into his hands and placed three kisses on the right cheek, the forehead and then the left one. “You have to teach the poor gorilla how this world works. I’m getting worried for his mossy head…”

“Roger that, Mama Prince!” Sora put a hand to his face, trying to imitate a soldier’s salute. Straight after he put his hands on his mother’s cheeks, copying the three kisses in return. “Don’t worry, Mama! I will make sure he learns everything!”

“Oi, Curly-!”

“Thank you, mon coeur!”

“Stop talking like I’m not-!”

“First lesson: buying groceries!”

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

They already established that Zoro had no rights in his house.

The alpha complained that he was perfectly capable of buying groceries without a child teaching him.

“Why didn’t you then?” Which honestly was a fair point. Zoro thought three days of ready-made meals wouldn’t kill the kid, but he got a few solid kicks when he said as much. The man didn’t expect to be wrapped up in a bonding experience with his son. The very thing he tried to avoid from the beginning.

But truthfully, Mini Curly was a funny kid. Zoro would like to say he can walk away at any time, and distance himself like before, but for some reason this lively household makes him feel… alive . The jabs from Sanji gave the thrill he always longed for. A desire to be with an omega that didn’t shy away from Zoro’s grumpy personality. An equal.

He excused it as boredom. Zoro quietly went along with this silly game because he had nothing else to do. Robin covered for him on every front at the headquarters and Mihawk was suspiciously silent lately. He might be a man who works alone, but he isn’t going to just ignore people the alpha will spend a few days with and lock himself in his room until he has to go to work again.

“Marimo, It’s January! You can’t just go outside like that!” Curly yelled in exasperation after seeing that the only difference between at-home Zoro and outside Zoro, was a wide-open jacket.

Cold is a matter of perception, not his fault that the two Curlies are packed in layers like cabbages. Sora could barely see behind the scarf that was sitting right over his nose. That blue jacket and black wool pants made creaking sounds from the fiction of the fabric when the boy would move around. Oh yeah, moving around made Mini Curly look like a penguin.

“I’m not scared of a little cold,” Zoro said proudly.

“Shut up,” Sanji retorted and leaned down to grab at the bottom of his coat.

The moment Zoro looked down, with the speed of light, Sanji zipped up the alpha’s coat with such force, that the zipper pinched the skin on the older man’s chin, which made his eyes water a little. Before Zoro could tell the omega off, he was immediately silenced by a red scarf being tied around his neck. He didn’t remember buying it, so it must be Curly’s.

“Can’t have you slacking off from spending time with Sora because you got your green ass sick.”

Zoro froze. It was kind of sweet and caring, wasn’t it? With a tinge of passive aggression, but that seems to be the default state Sanji is in when he deals with his husband.

“To the supermarket we go!” Sora announced once his dad was wrapped in the safety of the scarf.

Zoro was not lost. The supermarket was just huge and he was convinced the spies from other yakuza groups were moving the shelves around for the sake of confusing the alpha and jumping him when he least expected it. And all he was trying to do was find the damn milk.

Was the milk even that important anyway? Some rice and beer would sustain Zoro for a whole month, but no, Sanji had to grab what appeared to be the entire store into the shopping cart, spending half an hour on each item to analyse it. Seriously, Curly was staring at that poor chicken breast as if checking if it was actually dead.

“Papa, where have you been?!” Zoro was approached by his son after the hundredth time he tried to leave the chocolate aisle, only to end up back there again. Those yakuza spies were damn good.

But Sora acted as if he knew the place like the back of his hands, which were now out of the warm gloves on a string and started poking around at the chocolates and candies. That was what Zoro was talking about when he said that the kid was Curly’s copy. The same death stare analysing the bag of candy of his choosing.

“Let’s go, or Mama will start worrying!” said Sora, grabbing the bag of some weird candy from the bottom shelf.

It’s odd how in a day, dragging Zoro around by the hand became a habit for the kid. Sometimes Sora would get lost and Zoro would run around in panic to make sure that the weird shelf-rearranging yakuza wouldn’t get his son, only for him to get stuck in a loop of another aisle. The boy would find him again with a sigh and hands on his hips that reminded him too much of Sanji.

But Sora did not forget about the mission his mother gave him. In every part of the store, the boy would find something to talk about. He would name every aisle and pick a highlight for each one, giving oddly specific descriptions for a three-year-old of dishes some of the ingredients are used in.

“Oh, this sauce is nice with fries!”

“This meat is good with hotpot Mama makes!”

“Red peppers are the best for salads! Vegetables are good for you, Mama and Auntie Robin always say that.”

Zoro noticed that every topic Sora talked about always ended up somehow leading back to Sanji. And when that happened the boy’s face would light up like a thousand fireflies and there would be no stopping him. The same goes for Curly himself. Even when the omega got the news about his condition, all he thought about was Sora. Not himself.

The Curlies are funny creatures. Too naive and innocent to be in the world Zoro comes from.

“You know a lot about food, kid.”

“Well yeah, I’m Mama’s son after all,” and that statement was difficult to argue.

They took a few more trips around the supermarket and despite Zoro’s efforts he still couldn’t figure out the map of this place. Sora must be naturally gifted as he navigated this maze like a professional.

“Where the hell have you been?” They were stopped by a dishevelled-looking Sanji pushing a cart with such speed that when the omega stopped in his tracks, you could hear the loud clacking of glass bottles.

No ‘hello’ or ‘how are you’ . What if Zoro was busy fighting off the shelf-rearranging spies and was injured? And Robin calls him a good husband.

“Papa Marimo is very silly! He couldn’t find his way out of an aisle!” Of course, Sora was his Mama’s loyal boy and spilt the beans as soon as the chance presented itself.

“What?” the judging look Sanji was giving Zoro might have made his face heat up a bit. Not everyone can easily navigate a supermarket like these two, okay?!

“Yeah, he kept getting lost. Mama, you are right, Papa is dumb.”

“Oi-!”

But Zoro was interrupted by a sudden laugh. Sanji was having the time of his life because Sora insulted his husband. A full-on belly laugh that made the blond hold onto his own stomach. The bright smile and creases on the pale face suited him well.

Despite it all, the sound was nice. The kind of nice you would want to listen on repeat until you memorise every note, every breath every shake of the thin shoulders. The one you would record until you have a full gallery of evidence that such a wonderful thing exists. Or record it for the sake of putting it on every alarm and ringtone, just to ignore the calls and listen to it a little longer before picking up.

“Mama, can I have this?”

Sora’s pleading voice snapped Zoro out of his daze, only to realise that the Curlies had already started talking, checking out the things off the shopping list. Zoro felt his cheeks heat again from embarrassment that he probably looked like a lovestruck fool staring at Sanji and mentally replaying the sound of his laugh.

“But, dear, we already have a lot of sweets at home,” the omega said, regret evident in his voice and the blue eyes were looking everywhere and anywhere, but not Sora.

“Please?” The boy begged, face pouting at Sanji’s refusal and hands clutching the candy he grabbed from before. Some weird brand of sweets that was shaped like a little flute, that you can eat, or if you blow into it and pull the plastic from the bottom of the stick, it will change the notes so a pup could play a little song on it.

Sanji’s face went through a show of complicated facial expressions, body practically twitching after he saw Sora’s big pleading eyes. The teeth sinking into the pink bottom lip could draw blood any second.

“Okay, just this one thing…” Sanji sighed defeated, as if he lost some sort of intense internal battle against himself in a span of ten seconds.

“Yay, love you, Mama!” that just made Sanji’s state even worse.

Sora gave Curly a quick hug, due to his height the boy only managed to reach the blond’s hips, but it was nonetheless a touching picture. Their son ran off with the shopping list, happily looking for the last item on it. As soon as Sora was out of earshot, Zoro was subjected to violence from his husband with a jab of an elbow straight to his ribs. How long will the abuse continue?!

“ You will not be doing the same. You’re going to be the bad cop from now on, got it ?”

“You could’ve just said no, Curlybrow!” Zoro moved away from the punching and kicking range. Those legs were long and unpredictable. Who knows when he will suddenly get some again? “He thinks you are some angel, which is fundamentally wrong, but the kid would listen.”

“Didn’t you see his face when I said no the first time?!”

“So what? Mini Curly would pout a bit, but the world won’t end.”

“You don’t get it, directionally-challenged Marimo!” And of course, Sanji jumps right into the new knowledge to make fun of him. “I want to spoil my baby boy before I die!” the blond cooed.

Oh yeah, Zoro keeps forgetting. But his heart still aches every time this topic comes up. Why? He still didn’t have time to decipher. The Curlies make him feel so many things all at once, some of it he didn’t know the name of yet. 

Sanji was the problem, Zoro was sure. One moment he will make the alpha’s blood boil either from irritation or excitement from the bickering. Then another moment Zoro’s guts start turning, face heating up and his mind floating just from the omega’s smile and scent.

It concludes with his heart twisting into knots as soon as Sanji brings up his death so casually. How can he do that? Affect Zoro so drastically with just a few words, reminding him that what he only recently acquired, already has its inevitable end.

“I see,” Zoro didn’t know his voice could sound so hollow.

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

“Count to ten, no peaking!”

The last thing Zoro expected in parenthood was playing hide-and-seek at the ripe age of thirty-one. Sanji was busy cooking them dinner with the products they bought earlier, so he thought it would be a good idea to make him ‘learn how to play with his son’. Both Sanji and Sora seemed very committed to making an idiot out of the alpha and proceeding with their ‘mission’.

And if he was truthful, despite the groans Zoro put for show, it was fun. The kind of feeling you get when you rewatch the movies you liked in your childhood. Or smell some specific scent again years later, would it be your friend’s pheromones or blooming nature outside, and it sends you back in time as if it were a time machine. Almost makes you forget the reality of the cruel world and the emotions eating you up from your core itself.

The game was also a good reminder that in his twelve years of owning this house, Zoro has been here only a handful of times.

Half of the items were news to him, probably Curly bought them when he moved in. Zoro knew that Sanji was fancy, it was evident by the plants growing in the main part of the mansion, the tatami floors that were barely visible under the soft carpets and decorative pillows lying on every resting area. 

The rest of the house was empty, yet still respectably clean. Both Sanji and Zoro agreed that the size of the house was unnecessarily big, only a few rooms were enough to live a comfortable life. But who knew that the other end of the mansion, the one that’s connected to the main building with a Wano-style bridge was full of storage rooms with dojo equipment and full-on training grounds?

Why was he at the other end of the house? Well, the walls here move just like in the supermarket. Also, they were playing hide-and-seek, he was supposed to look through the entire house to find Sora, right?

The kid was a master in this game. They just started the first round, but Zoro already spent an hour looking for him.

The hiding place ended up being Zoro’s office. It was weird to be in it now because, in these couple of days, the alpha had been here only once. Usually, if he does visit home, that's the place he never leaves. 

He would work tirelessly on the investigation to find the bastard who killed Kuina, organise documents for meetings, analyse the profiles of people Mihawk asked him to kill and all of that was accompanied by a bottle of alcohol. That’s how he lived until now, his body unable to take a break until he accomplished something .

But lately, the desire to dive back into that routine just vanished.

Sora was standing there, eyes looking up to the three swords Zoro hung on the wall. The boy wasn’t hiding at all anymore. 

The alpha felt a little sick to the stomach. Sora was an innocent bright child, who stood in the room where many people’s lives had been decided, many criminals had been studied. As well as looking at the swords which were irreversibly stained by blood, taking away lives as the targets screamed for mercy.

It didn’t look right. Sora shouldn’t be here. Not around all of this dirt.

“It’s my turn, now. You take too long to find me!” Sora turned away from the swords and snapped the man out of the daze as well.

Turns out hiding is even more ridiculous for a grown-ass man. It just looked clumsy from an outsider’s perspective, a huge muscly alpha curling up into a ball to fit under the table. Yet again, it was fun regardless.

Sora was not only an expert in hiding but also even better at finding people. They were on their tenth round in the last five minutes and Zoro was running out of hiding places. Honestly, the moment the boy screamed, “Ten!” the little feet would run straight to where Zoro had been.

“Found you!”

“Papa!”

“Caught you again, he-he!”

At this point, it was a war for pride. Zoro wasn’t proud of how petty he was, but he deliberately hid in places deep in the mansion, or too high out of the boy’s view. Like on the top of the closet. But Sora’s eyes would immediately spot him. Something was fishy here!

“How the hell do you keep finding me, Mini Curly?!” Zoro knows it’s not so dangerous-yakuza of him to get frustrated at a three-year-old that he can’t beat in a game.

“Mama tells me!”

So that’s the problem.

Zoro probably didn’t look very threatening after such an unfair loss against his son, who was following him to the kitchen and laughing. What the alpha can’t stand is unfairness! So of course he went to give Curly a piece of his mind. That bastard made him lose!

“Curly! That’s a dirty play you are pulling!” Zoro tried his best to ignore how beautiful Sanji looked in his usual fox-decorated kimono, but this time with a pink apron over it. The kitchen really does look like his element.

The omega just grinned, not unlike those sly foxes on his clothes. Maybe Zoro did look a bit funny with a scowl and hair sticking out from how many times the alpha was pulling on it, trying to figure out the scheme the Curlies came up with.

“It’s fun to see you lose, Marimo.”

That victorious grin shouldn’t make his heart race like it does.

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

“Dinner is ready!”

Zoro spent the rest of the time Sanji was cooking on pondering the injustice of his home life and family. He was not sulking, no matter what Curly said and Sora laughed at.

His son, yet again, used the drag-Papa-by-the-hand method to lead Zoro to the table. The alpha doesn’t remember the last time he had actually sat down to eat normally. His meals usually consisted of eyes reading through the documents and hands holding store-bought onigiri to the mouth. 

Nothing special, food was just fuel for him. Zoro definitely wouldn’t bother to put on a full performance for his meal, like Sanji was currently doing. The random plant decorating the horigotatsu, rows and rows of starters and sides covered the table’s surface. Like a royal buffet, no wonder the Curlies were so prissy.

“No, no, no! You touched every surface of the house while playing!” Sanji squealed when both Sora and Zoro started grabbing at the chopsticks and getting ready to dig in. Not only the presentation looked fancy, but the smell was no less heavenly.

“Mon coeur, teach that buffoon how to wash his hands,” the blond said after giving Zoro a ‘loving’ smack to the back of his head and three kisses to Sora’s face.

He knows how to wash his hands, just let him eat already! This is straight-up torture. Zoro hasn’t seen a proper meal in a decade and now when he is presented with first-class dishes, he isn’t allowed to eat them! Curlies are sadistic!

So now he stood there, with Sora on the stool that helped him reach the sink in the bathroom, as the boy went into great detail on how to wash their hands. This was just fucking humiliating at this point.

“First you wet your hands so the soap foams better!” Sora turned on the tap, mercilessly grabbing his father’s hands to put them under the stream along with his own. The pressure was unnecessarily strong and the temperature was freezing cold, but Zoro endured it like a champ just to get this over with.

“Then, pump the soap into your hands,” the kid reached for the bottle of liquid strawberry-scented soap that was clearly for pups.

But no matter how much Sora pressed on it, the soap didn’t come out despite the bottle being full. Giving it a few more tries, the kid gave up with a frustrated groan and started unscrewing the pump with a great struggle.

What they both failed to predict was that the bottle was actually very slippery and as soon as Sora managed to victoriously unscrew the top, the thing flew out of his hands and spilt half of the soap inside into the sink.

“Oops.”

“Just wash it off, it’ll be fine,” Zoro offered to his dumbfounded son.

Sora did just that. And yet again, the alpha didn’t foresee that the boy would turn on the tap at its highest pressure. The spilt soap started foaming up with aggressive speed, growing like a cloud from an explosion. Why the hell does a tab even need such a high-pressure setting?!

Zoro picked up Sora into his arms as soon as the foam started falling over the edge of the sink onto the floor. The smart thing would be to turn the water off, but the alpha had an entire child in his hands and the floor right under the sink was now a victim of slippery soap too.

“What’s going on-” of course, Sanji had to appear during the most inconvenient of the moments. The bathroom floor consisting of white foam that made the entire room smell of strawberry didn’t make Curly happy, if the popping vein on his forehead was anything to go by.

“I turn my head for one minute and you two already managed to do something stupid!”

“Sorry, Mama, we love you!” Sora chirped from where he was hanging in Zoro’s arms.

Huh, the kid was smart. The forbidden weapon worked immediately!

Only for Mini Curly, though, because Zoro still got a fair share of kicks to the head.

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

Finally, Zoro was allowed to eat. Sora has spent enough time praising Sanji’s cooking, and the smell just supported the claims, so the alpha just had to put Curly under his very critical judgement. That’s what he gets for cheating during hide-and-seek!

Unfortunately, Zoro has been the one to be mindblown. The food was comparable to a very sharp, elegant and fierce katana. And in Zoro’s books that was the highest praise he had given anyone in his life.

The spices were balanced which didn’t make food too bland or on the contrary overly seasoned. The dishes were mostly seafood of some sort, that looked a lot like nicely crafted recipes of Kuraigana’s and Wano’s cuisines. In short, everything Zoro loved. 

The alpha didn’t know it was possible to remind him of the times with Kuina, the dojo lessons, the late-night stargazing and many more things he had experienced while he still felt… free . All from one bite.

As he chewed, the feeling Zoro started getting recently, grew. The one he can’t really explain, but he sensed it from his core, something akin to an instinct. Similar to the one people describe to be protectiveness alphas experience when he was with their omega and pup. The giddy bubbles in the chest made him relax just from the sight of his family being cared for, enveloped by the scent of cinnamon and, unique to Sora, the scent of matcha.

The feeling that he belonged in this family.

“Papa Marimo, say ‘ah’!”

Zoro was grateful that Sora interrupted him. One more second and he would’ve cried. No need to let Curly have one more thing to tease him about, he has enough already.

Mini Curly was poking Zoro’s scarred cheek with a spoon full of rice. The boy was a persistent kid, bordering on stubborn like Sanji, so when his dad didn’t do what he wanted, Sora poked the alpha’s face more to the point that the little grains of rice stuck to the tan cheek.

But then, Zoro looked over at Curly across the table. He propped his chin framed by a goatee on his pale hand and watched. Watched with one of those soft motherly smiles that never fail to warm the alpha from within. The smile that is usually reserved for Sora only.

Zoro’s mouth parted in awe, and unfortunately, Sora didn’t waste a second in seeing the opening and shoving the spoonful deep down his throat.

His attention was rudely ripped away from his husband to trying to stay alive and not choke to death on the best food he had ever had in his life. Curly felt merciful this evening, so the omega generously pushed a glass of water towards his suffocating spouse. Despite the near-death experience, the amused chuckles Sanji was trying to suppress counted as a win in Zoro’s head.

“Mama, you are not hungry?”

Sora wasn’t the only one to notice the untouched plate in front of Sanji. The entire dinner the blond barely touched a thing, maybe taking tiny bites here and there to check each dish, but he just settled for warm tea in his hands. It was weird to see the omega refuse to eat the spread he cooked himself, especially when food appeared to be a crucial part of this household.

“Do you not feel well?” Sora whispered and his whole demeanor changed from carefree laughing to a worried trembling lip. Zoro saw Curly visibly twitch like he was caught in the act before he could compose it into a pathetic copy of the smile the alpha liked so much.

“W-what?! No, my dear, I was just lost in thought! I have never felt better!” Sanji lied, voice exaggerated to the point that only kids would buy it. And Sora believed him.

Something bitter rose to Zoro’s throat at an obvious lie. Especially bitter when the omega started hastily shoving food into his mouth. It was apparent that Sanji wasn’t enjoying his own cooking at that moment, eating only so Sora wouldn’t worry. The meal he spent hours on for his family to enjoy, made the pale face twitch in discomfort.

Zoro wished the smile Sanji was still putting on was sweeter, so the taste of bile in his throat wouldn’t feel so overwhelming.

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

Zoro’s days have continued from then on in a similar manner. Curly getting angry, Mini Curly running around like he had an infinite engine built into him.

The alpha didn’t expect all the commotion, the loudness and unpredictability of this family to actually make him feel safe. The problem was that the daily events exhausted him, even a simple routine like breakfast consisted of laughing, making fun of Zoro, and the most important thing, loving .

A concept that the man long forgotten, and many times refused to indulge in. But who knew that people with curly eyebrows could make him feel so many similarly swirly emotions? 

It’s been over a week now, since Zoro even thought about his revenge. He actually started to smile again, a brief, barely visible thing, but to the alpha, it was world-changing. It took only one glance at Sanji’s face to make him grin and one adventure with Sora to make him chuckle.

Leaving this family again won’t be as easy as Zoro thought.

All of these complicated emotions needed an outlet, which was the good old training. Zoro wasn’t sure when he would get back to work, Robin never specified, but he can’t slack off. Swinging the bokken that was only recently discovered to be present in the mansion, the alpha relaxed. The same way Curly did when he cooked.

The garden where he was training in, was practically shining with every colour of the rainbow. Every corner, no matter where your eyes would wander, some flowers looked dazzling in the bright light of day. But despite the diversity in colours, mostly blue blossoms dominated the picture. They made the cyan of the pond stand out, especially when koi fish treaded through the surface with their fins.

It was the beginning of February now, but Kuraigana didn’t stay cold for long, unlike the North Blue. Still, it was surprising how the garden looked so lovely already, even when the Sun had only just started warming the soil and the nights were yet to stop freezing the curly residents.

Compared to how Zoro left this house, it was now the pure definition of a paradise. Sanji did a great job at making this paradise come true, as well as maintaining it.

The slight breeze made the freshly washed laundry rustle on the drying lines. The whole ‘Zoro-is-dumb mission’ started because of the damn laundry, so Sanji didn’t waste time on, quite literally, beating the knowledge into the alpha. Through shouts and kicks, Zoro managed to pass the laundry lesson, both washing it and hanging it up to dry. Not without Sora’s help of course.

“Papa, can I train with you?”

Zoro was pulled from his meditation by bright blue eyes looking up at him. An interruption the alpha didn’t mind. In fact, he started welcoming and even looking forward to it.

“Training? As in with the sword?”

“Yeah, Mama said Papa Marimo needs to be taught how to train too!”

“Huh?!” Okay, he could take the jabs about him not being an expert in chores. The alpha could admit that, since he never really had to do or cared much about them. But training?! He has been training for as long as Sanji has been alive, he doesn’t need a guide on training from a pup!

“And stop calling me Marimo! Your hair is just as green!”

“Mama says it’s different, and he likes mine the most.”

That damn Curly Cook’s favouritism!

It actually ended up being the other way around. Zoro was the one to teach Sora some basics of his sword style. Not with three bokkens, the alpha isn’t that cruel, just one since the boy was young and it was clear that it was rather a fleeting interest than a flare of passion. 

Zoro never taught anyone before. Even his sword style was developed when the alpha just went with the feeling in his gut. Koushiro would check up on him once in a while but just decided to leave him to his thing.

He definitely wasn’t proud of how he taught Sora. The kid was too young for any kind of training, and since there were no other pups to pair him up with, Zoro had to restrain his own strength. Which didn’t work as well as he thought, the alpha’s brain was wired into hitting harder than he had ever before, not gentler . Zoro wasn’t the best at explaining either since he was a visual learner by nature.

All of that just added to frustration. Even if Sora is too young, it wouldn’t be bad to show what his dad was the best at. But the fear that he might accidentally hit Sora too hard and the fact that the boy wasn’t taking the sword fighting seriously made Zoro snap.

“Sora, I told you to concentrate!”

Everything happened as if in slow motion, Sora’s eyes widening, the surprise causing the hit to the bokken the alpha delivered to make the wooden sword fling out of the boy’s grip and hurt the little hand. Zoro felt like his voice rang through the garden, unable to control the volume. 

He ended up yelling at, and possibly hurting, his son.

“O-ow…”

It didn’t take long for the small lip to start trembling and the blue eyes to well up in tears. The loud crying and sobbing were echoing in the silence. Even the birds stopped chirping, similar to Zoro’s heart that seized its beating.

Shit.

He needs to apologise, to check the tan little hand for injury. But how? Would Sora even want to be consoled by the man who upset him? Does his son hate him now? Sanji wouldn’t allow anything like this to happen. He was way better at parenting than Zoro could ever be.

Fuck!

How does Sanji do it? Curly makes it look so effortless, only a few words and touches and Sora lights anew as if nothing happened. Is Zoro capable of touching something as fragile as a child without making everything worse?

In his panic Zoro was already kneeling next to crying Sora, hands awkwardly flailing in the air above the boy, to try and find the best place to start. Oh no, the pup’s cries and distressed scent weren’t making Zoro’s inner alpha any calmer.

But Sora decided for them both, when he suddenly flung himself at his dad, small arms wrapping around Zoro’s muscly neck. The sobs were still there, but quieter, the boy hiccuping as he buried his face into the alpha’s neck, somewhere near the scent gland.

Okay, now Zoro was supposed to reciprocate the hug, right? With hesitation, the man’s hands, which looked huge if scaled to Sora’s body, found their place on the boy’s back. Maybe if he drew a few circles there, it would help.

It did! Sora stopped sobbing completely, yet the upset sniffing was prominent still. Sanji usually releases the calming pheromones right about now. But Zoro has never done something like that before!

It was supposed to be something on an instinctual level right? Sora was already nuzzling into his scent gland, so it should be easier than ever. Zoro decided to use one of his meditation methods. The one where you take a deep breath and concentrate on the sounds around you, making sure you control your pulse.

And just like that, Zoro’s natural scent of pine trees and steel became just a little sweeter. Just a bit milder in its intensity as well, and if it wasn’t Zoro’s own scent, the alpha would be long relaxed and napping by now because of it.

“I’m sorry, Sora. I didn’t mean to hurt or yell at you,” Zoro whispered from where he was holding his son tighter and tighter by the second. The alpha would understand if Sora didn’t forgive him. Something impatient as yelling and unforgivable as hurting, especially Zoro’s own family, was inexcusable.

“It’s okay, Papa. I’m sorry too…”

And like that Zoro was forgiven for something so cruel. A touch, a caring scent and an apology were the only things it took to repair what he had done. Sora will definitely remember this incident, but in his son’s little world, it didn’t matter as long as Zoro still loved him. Zoro was allowed to make mistakes and his son was kind enough to let it go.

Sanji was right, he has a lot to learn from Sora.

What both boys didn’t notice, was a panting Sanji watching the scene unfold, standing on the porch of the house.

When the blond heard his pup cry, he halted in his cleaning and rushed immediately to see what upset his little treasure. His inner omega practically screamed to run and ensure his baby’s safety. Zoro was supposed to be with him, so if any danger approached, Sanji would have enough time to reach them.

Unless the danger was Zoro himself.

Yes, the blond knew the older man wasn’t like that after closely watching him for over a week. But Sanji’s experiences with male alphas were clouding his judgement. If he hurt Sora, Sanji will not be responsible for his actions.

But once he got to the garden, the sweet scent of pine trees made Sanji’s inner turmoil quite immediately, the mind clearing and body feeling drowsy. The scent worked like the greatest sedative on him.

All the omega saw was the two boys clinging to each other like a lifeline, taking turns whispering apologies. 

Sighing, Sanji leaned on the frame of an open shoji and thought. Zoro was an anomaly. A mistake in statistics, because how can you explain his behaviour otherwise? The man was the weirdest male alpha Sanji had met.

Zoro not only gave him full freedom to leave whenever he wanted, to decorate the house without his permission and most surprising of all, to talk back to him. The man was rather pathetic in Sanji’s eyes. The blond was convinced that Marimo would crumble the second Sanji wasn’t there to stop him from wandering around, to feed him, to wake him up and many more.

Zoro even found great pleasure in exchanging shoves and insults here and there, but none of them actually wished malice. It reminded Sanji of Zeff.

The alpha was a good father as well. Take the time he spent drawing one huge curl on the page with Sora just to make fun of the omega’s eyebrows. Or when he wiped the boy’s face after he ate. Or helped their son up on his stools and sometimes for the sake of letting Sora grab things himself from the top shelves. And Sanji could go on for longer.

The blond smiled. Maybe Zoro isn’t so incompetent after all. He was sure that now, with how the two still hugged each other in the garden, green heads hilariously bright and round from Sanji’s angle, Sora would be loved once the omega left.

Two Marimos really did belong together.

A shiver interrupted his fondness. The omega rushed over and didn’t bother to put on a haori over his kimono in the haste. Sanji was getting worse with low temperatures, feeling colder and colder by day, despite the weather on the contrary warming up. How did the Marimos not freeze out there?

The coughing fit didn’t wait long to reappear, despite the blond quitting smoking years ago. With each shudder, Sanji’s head became dizzier and his throat begged to cough out something warm, for some reason. Oh.

Sanji should go back inside before he catches a cold. And before Sora notices the blood on his lips.

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

Sometime later, when the weather slowly but surely started becoming warmer by day and the date approached the middle of February, Sanji found himself cornering the infamous mafia heir.

“You’ve got a week to buy a piano for my boy’s birthday.”

Up close Marimo didn’t look any dangerous like people describe him to be. Or maybe Sanji’s perception of him blurred after he saw the alpha nap half-naked in the middle of the day, and the nap appeared to be so good that the floor he was sleeping on was covered in drool. Like a lazy cat.

The image of Marimo being personally upset when the omega helped Sora win in hide-and-seek still made Sanji laugh in hysterics. And the time Zoro drew that stupid curly eyebrow and looked so smug, but quickly got told off by a three-year-old for insulting his mother.

“Where the hell am I supposed to find a piano?!”

Oh yeah, the way Marimo was just an absolute idiot, didn’t make the moron look any threatening. Sanji was sure that the older man could get lost in his trousers with that awful sense of direction. One time the omega was too busy in the kitchen, so he asked his husband to grab some ingredients from the pantry that was only a few doors away. It took that gorilla an hour just to bring the wrong thing . 

How lucky Sanji was that the only thing Sora didn’t get from the overgrown moss was that inability to navigate.

“In a music shop, you idiot, where else?!” Sanji exclaimed, banging his hands on the wall where he was bracketing the taller man. The blond wanted to say the pose was to make Zoro listen to him, but the alpha was already listening to Sanji’s orders. Not without a few complaints and nicknames, of course, but he still does. “You’ve got time until the fourteenth to make it happen, got it?”

Zoro will confess that he didn’t know the full date of Sora’s birthday. The alpha remembered that it was February, the month that became his favourite because it was the time when he fell in love with the milky cinnamon scent. In his defence, Zoro barely remembered when his own birthday was. He was too busy working towards his revenge, that the alpha only added one to his age by the time December rolled around.

How the hell was he supposed to buy a piano in a week?! 

The alpha kind of guessed that Sora had some sort of interest in music. The melodies the boy would hum or tap the crayon during drawing. The way the pup would sometimes plead for Sanji to sing a lullaby to him. 

And Zoro would never tell anyone that those nights were his favourite. The soft mumbling would put anyone to sleep in a matter of seconds, the voice so softly and lovingly singing a song in a foreign language. Sanji had a habit of humming songs himself, during cooking, cleaning or watering the garden. Zoro is sure that is exactly why Sora came to love music so much. The alpha started to like it too.

Only when the singing stopped Zoro would quickly stand up from the floor next to the door to Sora’s bedroom and pretend like he wasn’t listening too.

So he got the damn piano. Zoro wasn’t sure what type, brand or price range would be suitable for a three, soon-to-be-four-year-old. Robin was a great help in this as well. She assured that if Zoro ordered it from her husband, the instrument would cost half the price and the quality better than from famous brands. The man was doubtful since Franky was a bit…experimental let’s say, and the last thing he wanted was Sora launching a missile on accident. But the secretary said that she will make sure everything goes smoothly.

On the day of the event, Zoro was woken up by already learnt by heart kicks. The curly devil ordered him around to decorate the house with a mix of normal balloons and heart-shaped ones, despite the Sun not rising yet. 

Sanji wasn’t shy about exploiting his strength by moving around the damn piano into one of the empty rooms. That bastard was definitely making fun of him by standing there and demanding to move it one centimetre to the right, then ten to the left and so on, so the ‘ composition of the music room was perfect for his boy ’. That teasing grin on the pale face said that it was for the omega’s amusement only.

“Where are you going, Curly?” Zoro asked when they were finally finished with the decoration, but instead of Sanji sitting down to take a break, the blond grabbed a bento box and threw on a warm haori at the front door.

“To the hospital,” Sanji answered, swiftly putting on his geta sandals over winter tabi socks. “I will be back soon. Let Mini Marimo sleep in until I come back.”

And Curly did come back a couple of hours later, still early morning though. However, the blond wasn’t happy anymore, the excitement for his son’s birthday replaced by the sour scent of cinnamon and a worried face. The bento was gone.

Oh yeah, and that disgusting scent was back again. The acid fragrance of coffee, and normally Zoro even liked the drink, but this scent made the man hate it. The challenging, overly concentrated bitter smell of coffee beans and burnt caramel clearly challenged him to complete. Zoro could already picture the smug smirk of whatever alpha decided to mark his omega.

No . Zoro had to slap himself across the face to get these thoughts away.

He didn’t have a claim over Sanji, regardless of the bite on the pale nape. Zoro has no right to call Curly his, especially when he abandoned this wonderful family for years. Their marriage was forced, even Sora was concieved for the sake of solidifying the contract between their families.

But everything that Sora and Sanji do lately has been arising the biological instincts within him. The ones Zoro so proudly has kept under control for as long as he can remember. But one frown from the Curlies made a growl roll in his throat, desperate to make them smile again. Them eating made him feel a sense of pride, proud that the family is provided for and protected.

And the stupid possessiveness too. Sanji would kick his head open for this.

Usopp returned from his trip the day before with his girlfriend by his side. When the beta arrived at the mansion with Kaya in toe, giving Zoro a few wary looks, Sanji was both happy and overwhelmed.

It was Valentine’s Day after all. He didn’t want to take away their time with their mates for the sake of Sora’s birthday. Usopp said thousands of reassuring phrases, and even Kaya joined in to calm the blond. Only when Robin arrived at the party with Franky did the omega decide to give in. 

“Valentine’s Day is the day of love. The family included, Sanji-san,” Robin said, her arms open and scent loving in a clear invitation. Curly took a few slow steps, head hanging low to try and cover glassy eyes as he finally sank into the alpha’s embrace.

Zoro wasn’t proud that the earlier possessiveness flared again. Sanji should be in his arms! Sora taught him how to comfort loved ones! That is what was screaming his inner alpha on repeat like a broken record.

“Uncle Usopp, Auntie Robin, you’re here!” Sora exclaimed after his gaze was ripped from the decorated house, interrupting his happy squeals at each and every balloon or ribbon.

“Of course! The brave warrior Usopp has parted the seas, and defeated every monster just to make it in time for my loyal servant’s birthday!”

“Parted the seas?! For me?!”

“Aye! The seas from Dressrosa to Kuraigana were treacherous, but I have conquered them without a scratch! Even brought trophies as a present!” Usopp’s chest stuck out with every word, grin looking more and more self-satisfied because he successfully showed off his fake strength in front of a four-year-old.

“You got me presents?!” and Sora was none the wiser, eyes sparking brighter in admiration. Apparently, it was a common accuracy, since everyone in the room was just laughing along or fondly smiling at the scene.

“You see, Dressrosa is known for love and its piracy days,” the beta started, digging in the big bag he brought along. “On my way here, I have fought the infamous pirate and won over his belongings!”

Usopp victoriously planted a pirate hat on Sora’s head, which was clearly too big on him, but the boy was lost in the clouds from the trophy stolen from a ‘very real pirate and definitely not a souvenir’. The butler himself had a hat but bigger and fancier, probably cosplaying a captain, as well as putting on a show of taking out a plastic hook for his hand.

“How wonderful! Before you conquer any other seas with Captain Usopp-san, I also have a present,” Robin joined in. She stopped embracing Sanji in a motherly manner a long time ago, but still remained near the blond, in case Curly asked for more comfort.

“A notebook, for our little musician,” the secretary said, giving Sora a notebook with a pre-printed grid for notes.

It was new, empty apart from a few little songs on the first pages, but Sora was flipping through every page, eyes burning as Zoro had never seen before. It was as if the kid was already mapping out every note, every melody. The fire only stopped when his son turned the very last page.

“Thank you, Auntie Robin!” Sora jumped, legs powered by the infinite engine that the boy was. One more present and the kid will explode into pieces of pure energy and excitement. “I will use it to play songs on Grandma’s piano back in Germa!”

“There will be no need to wait, mon coeur,” Sanji said, face fond as he was looking at his son.

It was time for their present. Zoro expected Curly to guide Sora to the music room the alpha decorated with his sweat, blood and tears. But suddenly the front door opened, a loud laugh rang through the hall and a sweet voice of a violin began to sing.

“Yohohoho! Where is our birthday boy?”

A tall man would be threatening if only he wasn’t practically skin and bones. A beta, judging by the barely present notes of black tea scent. The man, Brook, was wearing the most extravagant and at the same time stereotypical clothing for a pianist. Serious, formal and exquisite, but as soon as the beta opens his mouth, the laugh contagiously ringing through the air, you find out that the musician is very far from adequate.

And that’s how the day went. 

As predicted, Sora exploded after seeing the music room with a big brand new piano sitting right in the centre. Brook, the kid’s music tutor, helped the boy adjust and learn a bit of basics that same day. The beta, despite being new to the household was Robin’s old friend, so it wasn’t surprising how the eccentric man fit right into the circle the Curlies had made over the years.

Zoro on the other hand wasn’t used to parties at all. Especially as lively as this one. The alpha resorted to sitting back and observing like he has learnt over the years, beer in hand and ears picking up conversations now and then.

That was how he overheard the conversation Sanji had with Usopp and Robin in the kitchen. Curiosity won over, and the alpha listened in.

“Is Law-san not coming?”

“I visited him earlier this morning, but he refused to come along,” Curly sighed, his voice clearly worried. “He said he needed to work and didn’t even look at the bento I made. Idiot .”

“Wow, Law said no to you ? He must be really busy,” Usopp chimed in, tone very surprised as if Law obeying Sanji’s every command was a common occurrence.

So it was Trafalgar Law . The alpha that shoved him that day in the hospital. The bastard that keeps scenting Curly, knowing that Zoro will lose his mind as soon as he senses it. The asshole that stinks up this house leaving Sanji oblivious, since omegas can’t smell other alphas when they are bonded.

Zoro had to relax or the beer can in his hand would break.

“You have been visiting him a lot lately, Sanji-san. Not as a friend, but as a patient,” Robin’s voice caught the man’s attention again. “You are okay, right ?”

And that question surprised Zoro. Because he has never heard his own secretary sound so emotional. To an outsider, her tone was as levelheaded and polite as ever, but to everyone who knew the brunette, it was easy to detect the vibrations of exasperated worry. If Sanji tells the truth, she will crumble right then and there.

“Oh no, my flower, don’t worry about me!” Curly was quick to assure his friend, trying to lace it with his usual gentlemanly demeanour, to lighten the mood. “I had weak health since childhood, so I suppose I am having a relapse of sorts lately,” it wasn’t a lie, but not the truth either.

“You would tell us if it was something serious, right?” Usopp had a rare expression of seriousness on his face.

“Of course! But I promise I’m alright!”

Sanji had this habit when he lied. The pale fingers would fidget, one pale hand massaging the other, bending thin digits here and there. Everyone knew it, even Zoro learnt to notice the signs over the past months, the blond lying through his teeth to Sora when the boy was worried about him.

He was doing it now too. But the hands were hidden behind Curly’s slim back, away from his friend’s prying eyes, but in Zoro’s clear view. 

The alpha heard the metal can crack in his hand again.

“Papa, Papa, Let’s dance!”

His thoughts were interrupted by Sora running up to him, still in the pirate costume that Usopp had gifted him. Yeah, the present wasn’t only a hat but a full-on outfit of a stereotypical pirate. Even an eyepatch to cover one of the pleading blue eyes.

Zoro looked around. The party slowed down a bit since the Sun had long set already, but Brook still had a million songs in store. One of those songs was played on the tutor’s violin, a cheerful type of melody that made Usopp and Kaya dance together with matching blushes on their faces.

“Sorry, Mini Curly, but I don’t dance.”

The frown that appeared on the tan face made Zoro feel bad. However, Sora didn’t press, despite being clearly upset, just nodded and strolled to find something else to do. The alpha predicted that the boy would choose the new music room. The entire day it was rare to see him out of there, random notes ringing through the house every now and then.

“You green-haired gorilla, is it that hard to give him a dance?!” 

Zoro of course didn’t flinch when Curly suddenly materialised next to him on the couch. His pale face was angry, voice whispering and hissing like an irritated fox. The scent of godforsaken coffee still lingered, even if it wasn’t as strong anymore. It and the nickname got the alpha annoyed in no time.

“If you are so upset, then you dance with him, Dartbrow!” Zoro retorted in the same hissing manner, deciding to play along with the aggressive whispering that Sanji created.

“He wanted to dance with you!” the omega got closer, an accusing finger poking at the scared chest as his voice whispered even quieter this time.

“Are you really going to make my baby upset on the last birthday I’m spending with him?”

And that set Zoro off. Sanji always did that, bringing up his condition at such an inconvenient time. However, no time can be convenient for such a topic. It never failed to twist Zoro’s heart in knots, and somehow, the more time he spent with Curly the more painful it became. And here is Sanji, looking at him like he had said nothing wrong as if he is unaware of the pain he causes with a few words!

“Would you stop it with that, shitty cook?!”

His shout was met with grave silence and the usual shove instead of getting to Curly was blocked by a barrier.

“I should have known that a sudden trip to Dressrosa was suspicious.”

There was Usopp, in between the alpha and Sanji, face looking the most concentrated and heated than Zoro had ever seen on that face. Everything stopped, the eyes landed on the head of the Roronoa household, Brook stopped playing and Robin’s gaze looked murderous. Even Sora poked his head out of the music room.

“What are you doing?” Zoro looked at the beta’s outstretched arms in a clear attempt to shield Sanji from the alpha.

“I am his bodyguard, and it is my responsibility to make sure Sanji is safe,” Usopp borderline growled, eyes getting sharper and sharper by the second. Even his faint cocoa scent seemed to flare. “And I will, even if my employer is the danger.”

The shift in the mood made Zoro feel like a target. But also, strangely enough, made him feel proud of Sanji. One wrong move from someone and they will have Robin, Usopp and even Sora guarding the omega like loyal dogs. Curly built a great loving community, and even if Zoro isn’t there, the Roronoa family is safe.

“U-Usopp, it’s okay!” Sanji was the one to break the staring contest between his husband and butler. “That’s just how we are! He never did and never will hurt me!”

“A-are you sure?” 

And like that, the tension in Usopp dissolved. It seems it took the beta a great deal of courage and nerves to face Zoro so fearlessly. Now that the alpha looked lower than the bodyguard’s face, it was evident that his legs were shaking like branches in the wind. Only now that he had the command from Sanji to relax did Usopp melt into the couch, looking like he was steps away from throwing up.

He is a good bodyguard for Curly.

“I-I might have Zoro-is-scary-phobia, b-but if anything happens, just t-tell me…”

“You did well, Long-nose,” the blond chuckled, moving a gentle hand along Usopp’s shoulders so the beta wouldn’t start foaming at the mouth. “Besides, if the need arises, I will kick in that gorilla’s head in myself.”

“And Sora seems to li- lieh- likeugh- ” With every attempt to say ‘likes’ Sanji’s facial expression grew more painful and disgusted. That dramatic bastard even made a show of a gag reflex to demonstrate his displeasure!

“Is it really that hard to admit Mini Curly actually likes me, stupid brow?!”

“Yes, it is!” Sanji looked him in the eyes with his own enraged blues. They looked beautiful up until the moment when Zoro felt his head cave in and his spine collapse on itself. Oh shit, he was in the range of Curly’s legs. “And that’s for ‘shitty cook’ , you useless moss-headed swordsman!”

The two got lost in a verbal fight, accompanied by a few shoves, and now nobody moved to stop Zoro. Mostly because the guests were dumbfounded by the scene unfolding in front of them, eyes disbelieving and heads turning with each nickname to see the other’s next move.

“Hahaha! Mama and Papa are playing again!”

The only one to speak apart from the two husbands screaming at each other was Sora with an oddly bright smile on his face. The boy giggled as his parents were now wrestling on the floor, tugging on the kimonos and hair like arch-enemies. And Sora was having the time of his life.

“So that’s… the norm ?” Robin asked, her face neutral but she didn’t foresee this dynamic coming any better than the other people in the room.

“Yeah! It’s silly but they hug that way!”

“No we don’t!” the two stopped for a second, just to scream in unison and then resume the wrestling.

It wasn’t the last fight that evening, so it didn’t take long for the others to get used to it and just let the married couple do their thing. Sora’s laughing and lighthearted view of his parents fighting even added a sense of amusement to the party. After all, what good is a celebration if nobody picks a fight at least once? That was the new rule for the Roronoa household.

Time passed and Kaya had already left, saying she had to wake up early for medical school the next day. Brook had left as well joking something about the bedtime for old men like him. Franky was getting the truck ready and warm to drive away with Robin.

The woman was sitting on the mansion’s wooden porch, a warm blanket around her that Sanji was kind enough to wrap her in with his usual flowery presentation. She enjoyed the blooming gardens, closing her eyes in bliss and relaxation that she was near her family now. No need to hide and run. Well, only if her mafia workplace gets discovered by authorities.

“So, when can I go back to the headquarters?”

Robin was pulled out from her meditation by Zoro. If she didn’t see it herself, the secretary would laugh if someone said that her boss would be asking for permission to work again. But the alpha has already learnt that the heir to the Kuraigana yakuza clan was no ordinary man. Somehow Zoro managed to make the murders and illegal trades feel less wrong with the man’s strong sense of justice.

“Do you want to go back, Zoro-san?”

And this question should be easy. Zoro would usually spit out a ‘yes’ in no time, desperate to search for the murderer and go away from his loved ones in order to protect them.

The man looked back to the living room, still lively with just the Curlies and Usopp there, regardless of the late hour. Usopp, still dressed in pirate captain clothes circled the couch with such speed that the beta stumbled on nothing and fell face first. The familiar laugh from Sora and Sanji made Zoro feel like sunlight beamed right from within, warming and illuminating everything on its path. They call it happiness , he thinks.

That’s when Zoro started to doubt the life he had led so far. Would Kuina be happy with what had become of him? Would she want all those years wasted on revenge? What if Zoro…doesn’t want to have this boiling-hot anger run through his veins anymore?

What if he wants to move on?

Robin, who was looking right at him, studying every expression, gave him a knowing look. As if she could read his mind, and maybe relate to the hurricane inside him. She smiled like a cat that got her catch, as though her plan had been perfectly executed and she had Zoro right where she wanted.

“Well, I will see if I can give you half the usual time you work in a couple of weeks. How does that sound?”

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

“Teach the Marimo how to help around the house! I’ve had enough of his lazing around!”

Can he not nap now?! Was it Zoro’s fault that Curly kept on running around the house, cleaning here, cooking there, stopping to kiss Sora and then off again to sprinting like the busy headless chicken that he is? It wasn’t Zoro’s fault the blond tripped over his legs in his haste, the alpha was just trying to meditate!

And now Zoro stood there with a broom clutched in his tan hands, irritation evident on his face at how the ‘operation stupid husband’ had begun again. The kid was already giving the omega the obedient salute of an inch-tall soldier with a broom of his own.

So bossy! Irritating! Full of himself! Each of the insults rang in his mind and was accompanied by an aggressive sweep to the floor. He will clean this room squeaky clean just to spite the prissy prince, so Curly will fall to his knees in defeat and admit that Zoro is actually a very capable husband and father!

“Ouch!” Zoro exclaimed after getting a hit to the head. What, is Sanji back already to check this part of the house?! Zoro and Mini Curly only just started!

“I shall defeat you, Papa Marimo!”

Turns out the hit wasn’t from his pissed husband, but from Sora, swinging around the broom that was at least double his size.

“Slow down, kid- agh !” Zoro had to bend himself backwards into a parody of a graceful arch that Sanji could do effortlessly, just to avoid the ‘weapon’ the little gremlin was swinging around.

“Come on, you have to attack too!” Sora whined, displeased that his father was only dodging the swinging of his ‘sword’. “I thought you were a good swordsman…”

Oh, these Curlies knew how to press his buttons, didn’t they? 

Of course, Zoro didn’t attack his son with full strength. He had taught himself how to be gentler and more mindful after that training incident. Now the alpha was kind of having fun, both had forgotten all about the cleaning, now the only thing present were giggles and chuckles from the two and the loud knocking of brooms together.

“It has been hours. Where the hell are the Marimos?”

Zoro doesn’t remember when he had taken a nap. Sora was next to him, just a meter away, snoring in the position of a starfish. Not unlike Zoro himself. The only thing that awoken the alpha was Curly grumbling under his breath and his socked feet tapping around, checking room after room to find them two.

Only when the steps came closer to them, Zoro decided to pretend to still be asleep. He wasn’t a coward, it’s just the Sun coming into the room from the open shoji door warmed his half-naked torso very nicely. It would be a shame if Curly got mad.

“It’s suspiciously quiet- oh… ”

Sanji finally spotted his two Marimos. Napping in the Sun like two lazy cats, snoring into oblivion. The room was half clean and it should have made the omega annoyed. But it didn’t.

Sora was indeed a carbon copy of Zoro. Same marimo-green hair, sticking out in every direction, sun-kissed skin glowing in the light, and that stupidly adorable permanent frown on the little face. His boy is just as stubborn as his husband and grumpy when he is told to do something he doesn’t want to, yet he does it anyway. 

Yes, the blue eyes, curly eyebrows and freckles were from the omega, but those are unimportant details.

Oh, and don’t get him started on the naps. At first, Sanji was worried about narcolepsy, but over the years learning not to fret over the breaks Sora would take now and then after meals or outbursts of energy. Only now the omega realises, looking at the two idiots on the floor, that his boy being a lazy cat was all Marimo’s doing. It was funny how they mirrored each other’s poses, one hand on the tan stomach, the other laying outstretched and legs spread to occupy as much space as possible.

Dumb Marimos.

Zoro was wondering why Curly got quiet all of a sudden. It usually meant an insult or a painful kick. But it turned out to be neither when the alpha felt a light weight lean against his bicep. Sora’s matcha scent invaded his nostrils, as the boy snuggled against his side. Did Sanji move the kid over?

And there was a thing Zoro had noticed recently. The ‘three-kisses rule’ the alpha dubbed it in his head. Sanji seemed to have a mission of his own to cover every inch of Sora’s body in kisses. As soon as the omega’s blue eyes land on the kid, there will always be three loving smooches and every time on a new place. Hands, forehead, tummy, you name it. And each morning Sora’s skin ‘resets’ and becomes clear from any affection the day before. And Sanji refuses to let that slide, so he starts it all over again.

Why three? Zoro can only guess that the reason for it was that the first kiss was a greeting. A gesture to say that the boy is loved. The second one had all the feelings Curly had held for Sora. I love you, can’t live without you, I will always be near, You are my everything . And last, but not least, the third kiss was a promise. A sign that Sanji might be going now, but soon, in five minutes maybe, another three kisses would inevitably arrive.

“Sleep well, my dear,” the melodic voice whispered, as Zoro felt a soft fabric engulf his body. This time the scent was Sanji’s. Must be the blanket Curly always uses when he is cold.

And there they came. One kiss. Second kiss. And the promise kiss.

Zoro was too lost in the warmth blooming from within to realise that Sanji didn’t leave just yet. The socked feet tapped around the two sleeping boys, just to stop on the opposite side of the alpha’s body. A heavy knock sounded like knees hitting the tatami floors.

“You too, Mossy.”

A soft press of lips felt like boiling water on Zoro’s forehead. The palm that gently swiped away the green hair sticking to it, felt like lava too.

It was only one, not three of the ones only Sora had access to. But it was one Zoro will remember till the day that he dies. It was hard to control the scent that was knocking to fill the room. But the sweet fragrance of pine trees would rat him out on the spot, and Zoro didn’t want to scare Curly away.

The shoji closed, after a sharp intake of breath, as if Curly was surprised by his own actions. The sound of steps rushed away as if a criminal running from a crime scene and became quieter and the loving scent of cinnamon left along with the omega.

The kiss on his forehead burnt as if his third eye opened. And it all left Zoro, face as hot as molten metal, and eyes wide open trying to calm his mind with the patterns on the wooden ceiling. 

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

The Roronoa household had a tradition it turns out. A movie night.

They didn’t participate in it before, because Curlies said that it’s not the same without Usopp. And now that the beta was back from Dressrosa, the make-shift movie theatre on weekends had opened yet again.

Sora took it very seriously. He asked Sanji to make up a temporary nest for him on the couch, bringing over a few of his favourite toys, like that one golden fox with curly eyebrows that Zoro called Sanji in the privacy of his own mind. Nest ready, Curly would leave the usual three kisses on the kid’s face and walk off to the kitchen to get some snacks for the night.

What if Zoro also wanted to be included in his omega’s nest?

In a flash, Usopp and Curly covered the tea table with cuts of cheese, nachos, caramel popcorn for Sora and a drink for each. Usopp was with a mug of cider in his hands, Mini Curly was nursing a hot chocolate with marshmallows, and Zoro himself was with a can of beer. Only Sanji was sipping on some juice or lemon water, the alpha couldn’t tell.

“Juice? What are you twelve, Curlybrow?” he swore the omega in his eyes was just as classy and poche with wine as Mihawk, so why the change?

“Law said not to mix alcohol with my meds, you green idiot,” Sanji whispered so the other two wouldn’t suspect a thing.

“Alright! Zoro is new to the whole deal, so he picks the movie of the night!” Usopp conveniently chimed in, shoving a remote control into big scarred hands.

What the hell is he supposed to pick? It’s not like he watches movies in general, before the alpha didn’t care for them. Too busy killing people, if you will. Zoro suspects he would like an action film, something with fights and all the adult themes he cannot watch in front of Sora. And the rest of the genres Zoro can’t form an opinion on, because he has no idea what the hell they are.

“Pick a kissy movie, they make Mama happy,” Sora leaned into Zoro’s ear and whispered like it was the world’s government secret. The kid carried Sanji’s scent on him, the fragrance coming off in waves from the nest the blond made for him.

Well, Zoro should have guessed that such an emotional man would have equally dramatic tastes. It’s not like he had a choice, he will just roll with it. Scrolling on the streaming app, the alpha found the romance section. All of the covers looked overly sappy, definitely not what Zoro would go for. Oh, that one looked a bit more serious.

“Not this one! It will make Sanji cry,” now it was Usopp's turn to whisper a conspiracy theory about the omega. And Curly was sitting there oblivious of whatever the kid’s and the butler’s plan was.

Zoro just ended up picking a random one, checking that there will be no more corrections from either Sora or Usopp. The two even gave the alpha the thumbs up at his choice.

The movie was what Zoro had expected. A typical drama of misunderstandings and way too many flowery feelings and editing for his liking. One more scene and he will throw up flowers, candies and rainbows from how sickeningly sweet it all was. Usopp by his right was having a blast though. The butler didn’t want Curly crying, but here he was, sobbing rivers at a kiss himself.

With a yawn, Zoro decided to check on the two on his left. But Sora wasn’t watching the screen anymore. All his attention was on Sanji instead.

The boy’s freckled cheeks were rosy pink from a loving smile stretching them. The blue eyes watched intently every gasp, every chuckle and every frown on his mother’s face. Every now and again Sora would sigh, inhaling the happy scent of cinnamon and his little body would sag and relax. Zoro caught himself doing the same thing.

After a while, Sanji noticed his son staring at him. A fond smile appeared on the pale face, as the omega pulled Sora on his lap, not forgetting a few blankets and toys from the nest. An elegant hand played with the kid’s green hair while Sanji was performing the three-kisses rule yet again.

The two sat like that through the film, Curly occasionally nuzzling into the green locks of his sleeping son, arms around the boy in a protective and loving embrace.

That perfect picture made Zoro decide that he liked the movie nights.

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

Sanji had that nightmare again.

His condition was worsening by the day, and the blond wasn’t sure he wouldn’t go insane. His body was so exhausted, that simple cooking for the Marimos made his limbs grow heavy as if full of lead. Sometimes he has to make sure not to close his eyes for longer than a second.

But when the night comes and Sanji’s energy is at its lowest and the painful coughing he tries to muffle so Sora and Marimo won’t worry starts growing stronger, he cannot, for the life of him fall asleep. His body and throat hurt, mind was foggy with fatigue but sleeping was just so hard. And when the omega manages to nap, it’s no longer than an hour, then he is back to reality sweating and uncomfortable in his own body.

Law said to call him to see if the medicine helps. But the doctor already works sleepless nights just for him, stuck in the lab and testing, testing, testing. Refusing to go outside, least of all celebrate birthdays.

Law said that he wouldn’t stop until he found the cure. But even Sanji knows, with his limited knowledge of genetics learnt way back in Germa, that genetic mutations as of now, are impossible to cure. The ones who have the most chances of making a breakthrough are probably the Vinsmokes, but they didn’t do shit for his mother, so they won’t even pretend to try for Sanji.

While the omega was alive, Sora belonged to the Roronoa clan. But as soon as Sanji passes away, the boy will be legally transferred to the Vinsmoke household. All because Judge is still Sanji’s father, by documentation.

That was the second part of his mission to guarantee Sora’s happiness. After Zoro and his baby get along, find a way to legally get his son away from the Vinsmokes. And if that doesn’t work, then Sanji will resort to running away and hiding Sora somewhere on the other end of the planet.

And that’s how it always starts. Sanji, in the privacy of his bedroom, finds his thoughts spiralling. As soon as the Marimos were not near, the blond’s head spun in circles and there was no happiness and calm to distract him from the pulsating ache in his bones.

Sanji tries his best to breathe, feeling the most vulnerable without a nest. Yes, his bed looks embarrassingly bare, doesn’t smell like his family and mate and is so uncomfortable. Sanji had never learnt how to nest. Judge made sure to beat any natural instinct out of him. Not like the Vinsmokes had anything to offer for his nest anyway. When he was younger Sanji would resort to one dress left by his mother. But Judge made nesting feel so wrong, so filthy, it made the omega feel guilty.

The temporary nests Sora demanded sometimes were far from perfect. Sanji overthinks every step, every item, asks if his baby wants them, but he always leaves it up to the omega. And no matter how broken and just wrong the nests looked, Sora would be the happiest when he was in them. So Sanji did it again and again, still not sure how ‘normal’ omegas do it.

Sanji then would feel a bit calmer in the darkness of the night, remembering his treasure’s smile, his laugh and his scent.

With a sigh, the blond would realise that the pain eased, but it was still there. Was it how his mother felt all those years ago? He would reach a hand to open the drawer of his nightstand, the one filled with mountains of medicine Law keeps on prescribing. The omega would take the nearest one, shaking out a handful of pills and swallow them.

Law said one should be enough, but Sanji never had the guts to tell him that they stopped working faster, and the aches became more painful. He can’t do that to the doctor, he is stressed enough as it is.

And the slight overdose had the side effect of swiftly pulling Sanji to sleep. 

All the thoughts from before would mix into a sadistic nightmare every time. 

It would be flashes of him getting beaten up by Yonji, Ichiji and Niji holding his arms to make Sanji a better target for the youngest. It would be his pet rat being stomped on by Judge. And the omega would look at his hands covered in blood while his father chanted that it was Sanji’s fault.

The labs.

Mama’s pale face in the casket.

Reiju would be in the background of each scene, looking passive, sadistic or disapproving. Then her smile would spit out the love and happy endings, but Usopp taught him how to spot a liar. His sister’s features would turn disappointed yet again when he said as much, and bugs should leak like a waterfall from her eyes and mouth, crawling their way onto Sanji’s pale skin.

Mama’s pale face in the casket.

Then I would all repeat. But with Sora this time.

His baby's body beaten, ignored and neglected. His Mini Marimo sobbing on the floor, nails clawing on the cold stone because Judge was the one to tell the three alphas to toughen him up . Locked up so that he cannot go to visit his Grandpa at the All Blue residence.

Mama’s pale face in the casket.

Sanji darts up in his bed, skin shivering with cold sweat and throat hoarse for some reason. He needs to cook. That’s the thing that makes him safe. And somewhere in the privacy of his own mind, Sanji thanks Zoro every day for the freedom, safety and happiness he had acquired in Kuraigana.

Only when the omega steps out of the room does he realise that Sanji is not alone in his nightly wandering. The light spilt onto the hallway’s wooden floors, the clacking of glass loud in the silence of the sleeping house.

“Marimo?”

Zoro was never an early riser, as well as he always went to bed very deep into the night. He wasn’t prepared to see his husband, wrapped in thousands of haori on the silky pyjama, to catch him tonight.

He was in the middle of an exquisite beer tasting, for once deciding to pour it into a mug and not just chug it from the can. Curly’s prissiness is rubbing off on him.

The alpha wasn’t blind though. He could throw in some insults and ask why is Sanji not in bed, a pathetic attempt to cover up the fact that he cares . But the blond didn’t look well, with eyebags blue under his lidded eyes, thin arms rubbing the other to try to warm up the omega and Sanji’s haunted expression. The scent coming off him was like burnt caramel, strong enough to make Zoro’s eyes water. 

It was clear that his husband didn’t want Zoro to see him right now, uncomfortably shifting from one foot to another near the kitchen door. You would think the blond would recoil and become his default annoyed self, but even in the room where Sanji blooms, the omega is oddly quiet.

What can Zoro do to comfort Curly?

“Pick a kissy movie, they make Mama happy.”

“I have trouble sleeping, how about another film, Curly?”

Zoro said it just as suddenly as he stood up and walked to the joined living room and got the TV going. What the hell is he doing?! He didn’t even like romance, finding it more interesting to sneakily glance at his family snuggling next to him! 

Ugh, if it will put a smile on Sanji’s face, he will do it.

Sanji didn’t say a thing, though. No insults or complaints about Zoro prowling in his kitchen. Just silently joined the alpha on the couch, grabbing the blanket to add another warm layer. Was it really that cold?

It was awkward. Curly didn’t become happier as the movie went on. It could be Zoro’s fault because this time he put even less thought into picking the right one. Damn, what if he makes it worse and they were watching the one that make Sanji cry like Usopp warned him?

Wait! Sora taught him about the magic of the calming scent. They say it works wonders on your mate and pup.

And Zoro concentrated on his pheromones, breathing in and out. The scent of sweet pine trees filled the room.

But Sanji didn’t react at all. The shoulders were just as tense as before, head was hanging low. The blond wasn’t even looking at the screen anymore, eyes looking at the pale fingers that kept on picking at the wool on the blanket. Curly’s face was obscured by the long bangs, so Zoro didn’t even know if he was angry, sad or disgusted. Angry would be ideal, because he knows how to deal with that.

“Why did you growl at me that day?”

“Huh?” Zoro got snapped out of his attempts at being a good alpha, by an unusually quiet voice for such a loud man. He didn’t even remember the day Sanji was talking about.

“Don’t act stupid. The day we had sex for the first time. Why did you growl?”

Oh, now Zoro remembers. Sanji’s first and last heat he shared with him. The alpha was a bit lost that day, something like worry and at the same time excitement brewing in his gut after getting that call from Usopp.

It was the first time ever Sanji didn’t look all reserved and proper. Messy and desperate, looking beautiful in that half-open fox kimono. As soon as Zoro found him on the kitchen floor, a small smile of relief graced the flushed face. When the alpha picked him up, Curly reached out to cling to his muscular neck and greedily inhaled his scent right at the gland.

Sanji was very touchy that night. Weird for someone so usually quiet and invisible. Zoro wasn’t even sure it was normal for omegas, because he didn’t have anything to compare it to. He had partners here and there, but never an omega in heat, least of all his bonded mate.

The problem was that they knew each other for a week. Zoro married a man from one of the rivalling, not anymore, mafia groups. And when the alpha felt the pale hands on his back, he gave Sanji a clear warning he gave to any stranger who was brave enough to get this close.

“My friend used to say that scars on the back are a swordsman’s greatest shame,” Zoro answered at last, looking at the screen that still playing the movie, but not actually listening or watching.

“So you thought it was okay to growl at me?” which was a good point. Sanji, yes arranged, was still his mate. In heat no less. But Zoro never had anyone be so close and yearning for him. It might have scared him a little. “I was just…seeking comfort, you know?”

“Nobody seeks comfort from someone like me.”

“Sora does.”

“And it still baffles me to this day.”

Zoro didn’t know what exactly he said, but Sanji’s shoulders relaxed a bit. Still tense, but enough to not look like he will collapse on himself any second. The pale hands stopped torturing the blanket and the blond sighed, inhaling the calming scent Zoro tried his best to keep up.

“And you?”

“What?”

“Why did you keep on sticking to that stupid omega etiquette?”

Now that Zoro has seen who Sanji actually is, he can’t believe the blond kept it all to himself. Zoro can’t believe he was missing out. He could have looked into the ocean eyes for longer if only they weren’t always directed at the floor. He could have experienced the thrill of bickering earlier, and maybe the alpha would feel just as alive back then. Sanji sighed next to him.

“That’s what my family taught me,” he said, head falling back in exhaustion. “No alpha wants a disobedient omega that defies them every step of the way. Too emotional and loud is undesirable too.”

“Well, that’s stupid. Those are the qualities I like the most in you.”

“Wha-?!” Only when Curly looked at him with a red face did Zoro realise what he just said. He inhaled so fast that the sip of beer he just took got stuck in his throat. Fuck his honesty, this was way too straightforward!

“Whatever. It’s hard to believe in knights in shining armour as a Vinsmoke,” Sanji sighed again, his scent and expression going back to the discomfort it was showing before. It seems talking about his family was the root of the problem.

“Well, it’s a good thing you are not a Vinsmoke anymore.”

And Zoro meant it factually, kind of. Sanji was a Roronoa, right? His family was now here in Kuraigana, in this very house. And if remembering the surname the omega left behind in Germa was the reason for his frown, then there is no point in being sad anymore. It’s Roronoa now, and Zoro couldn’t be happier about it.

It turned out to be the right thing to say. In an instant, Sanji finally faced his husband, pink still high on the freckled cheeks. That smile, the very one that the omega only shows to Sora. That sweet and velvety stretch of plush lips was everything and much more Zoro wished for.

It was one of those things you would take a picture of, print it and stick it in your wallet for good luck. Because that smile had to be something blessed by Gods Zoro never believed in. Maybe if the alpha changed his views and prayed, he would have the honour of seeing that smile again. If heaven really exists who is to say that it’s any further than his smiling husband?

If the surname was what made him happy, Zoro would marry Sanji every time he got sad. Claim him as a Roronoa a thousand times over if it meant he got to see that expression again.

“Huh,” The smile deflated into a gentle upturn of lips, but it was still there. And the sapphire eyes were on Zoro. And it was all that mattered. “For someone who never comforted anyone before, you are suspiciously good at it, Marimo.”

And then it all went back to normal. Sanji was clearly breathing in Zoro’s calming pheromones, eyes growing more lidded not by the minute but by the second. The blond finally started to pay attention to the movie that was already halfway done now. It was like that serene scene during movie night, only now without Sora.

Zoro realised he was staring again only when a sudden weight hit his shoulder.

It was Curly, leaning his blond head on the alpha’s shoulder, eyes drifting between sleep and trying to see how the couple on the screen would end up. If Zoro wakes up in the darkness of his bedroom, it would be the cruellest joke his mind pulled on him.

The omega looked so angelic, so calm like the summer ocean, leaning in on Zoro’s shoulder. And the alpha couldn’t help but think that it was so strange how long it took for Curly to find the place where he was meant to be. Right here, watching sappy romcoms, clutching on his husband’s kimono and trying so hard not to fall asleep in comfort. To nuzzle in closer to the scent gland to finally feel the safety Sanji seemed to lack.

Zoro just needed to check it was real. So he selfishly reached out the tan hand that looked so dark compared to the ethereal glow of golden hair on his shoulder. The alpha gave a few careful strokes to the blond locks, not sure if he was more scared of Curly rejecting him or waking up from this surreal dream.

When neither happened, Zoro grew bolder, now shamelessly digging into the wavy hair, occasionally giving Sanji’s scalp a comforting scratch.

And holy shit. Curly purred. It was so easy to get drunk on the sound and vibrations passing from the omega’s body when it was all so close, and so real. Zoro felt that his inner alpha was on the moon from happiness, crawling and climbing the inside of his skull trying to get the giddy feeling out of the system.

“Never took you for a romance guy, Mossy.”

And the nickname should have ruined the moment. But it didn’t. It sounded so fond and light. Soft and caring like a pet name you would call your significant other. Zoro will deny that he started to like them just as much as Sanji will deny that they are anything but insults.

Zoro wasn’t sure what exactly Curly meant by romance in his question. Was it the emotional movie on the screen that he picked out? Or the equally sweet moment the married couple was having here in the living room? He decided it didn’t matter, and answered anyway.

“I’m not, but it’s growing on me.”

And Sanji probably didn’t hear the response from the dreamland he had just fallen into.

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

“Sora wants to go to the aquarium.”

Just like that time with the piano, Sanji cornered his husband and demanded their son’s wishes to be realised with a commanding tone. This time, however, it was a bit different. It wasn’t as confident and stern this time. If Zoro looked a little closer, he would be able to make out a shy blush on the pale cheeks. 

Well, that’s interesting.

So to the aquarium, they go. It was the beginning of March now, the weather warm enough to not wear anything more than a light jacket on top. Unlike the usual, the family would go out in modern clothes. Both Sanji and Zoro mostly wore kimonos in the house, or during quick walks to the store or a visit to friends, but the expensive fabric and silky patterns would stand out in the crowd. And that’s the last thing a mafia family would want on an outing together.

Zoro didn’t think much about his outfit for the day. Black pants with a worn-out t-shirt, military boots and a fancy jacket clad in fur from the inside. Might be the only fashionable thing in his wardrobe only because Nami gave it to him as a birthday present. And charged him for it anyway. Witch.

Sora was getting dressed up by Curly of course. The usual overalls and a cyan sweater that rode up to his neck. The kid wasn’t happy with it, judging by the pulling on the collar, but one command from Sanji made him leave it.

The omega himself wore a similar oversized turtleneck to Mini Curly’s, but it was a deeper blue, the colour that made his paler features shine like royal porcelain. The long legs looked even longer in black trousers that were accented with faint golden swirls here and there. Maybe they should go to more aquariums in the future.

On their way there, Sora was eagerly running around his parents. The kid would stop in one place, name every rock on the road, then look up and do the same with clouds. Here and there he found young buttercups that started to bloom only recently. Basically exploring every nook and crevice while humming an excited song.

Curly on the other hand walked very tense beside Zoro. Thin shoulders rode up to the slightly reddish ears and blue eyes would suspiciously look everywhere but the alpha. It wasn’t the tension Sanji usually expressed when he was sad or too much in that pretty head of his. It's a new one this time. His body language looked similar to Sora’s when the kid wanted to play on his brand-new piano.

The answer was so much cuter than Zoro could have ever imagined.

“Holy shit is that Shaoor Emperor?! You can find them only in the South Blue!”

“Marimo, look! That’s a whole tank of Betta fish! They are native to the East Blue, but I’ve never seen so many!”

“Did you know that Starfish are relative to Urchins? And not all of them are star-shaped actually! Some can have up to thirty arms! And despite their name, they aren’t actually fish…”

It was excitement. Sora was having fun, but hell he did not compare to this curly sea nerd who was practically sticking to every glass surface and ranting about random fish facts. One more rare species and the omega would jump out of his pants.

The positions were reversed now. Sanji was the one bending forward and backwards to examine every fish available, humming a melody under his breath. Mini Curly was just walking beside Zoro, giggling now and then at his mother’s excitement. So who was the one who wanted to go to the aquarium more?

This was definitely Sanji’s place. The blue of the water made the omega look ethereal, so mythically beautiful and the constant smile with excited squeals was surely something otherworldly too.

But it made Zoro scared. He just looked so at home here. What if the alpha blinks and Curly becomes a merman, feeling freedom and a sense of belonging he will swim away? Zoro wasn’t ready to lose him just yet. When he finally started to unravel those butterflies that seek release every time Curly is close.

“Did you really want to go to the aquarium, Mini Curly?”

Zoro felt a tiny warmth snake into his hand instead of an immediate answer. The alpha looked down to see his son curl his sun-kissed fingers around Zoro’s equally tan hand. Sora took a second to think it over, eyes still looking at Sanji sticking from one tank to another.

“It’s our birthday present to Mama.”

“Huh?! It’s Curly’s birthday?!” What should he do?! It’s a weekend evening, and some of the shops are probably closed by now. What would Sanji even like as a present? Why didn’t his husband tell him?! “What am I supposed to buy?!”

“Mama told Auntie Robin that a walk with his family is enough,” Sora explained, trying to calm his father’s inner turmoil. “But he is a liar. Mama wouldn’t have gone if I didn’t ask him to.”

“So we are his present, Papa Marimo! Lots of hugs and kisses to make his birthday a happy one!” 

And it’s not the first time Zoro finds himself amazed at how much Sora loves Curly. The boy is just so kind, desperate to make his mother smile as much as possible because if Sanji doesn’t, Mini Curly’s life will stop right then and there. It’s not actually that surprising, because Zoro found himself in the exact same trap.

“I like aquariums because Mama likes them,” Sora said with a tug to Zoro’s arm from their linked hands. Sanji was too lost in his amazement that he was already running into the next section.

“And I like Papa because Mama likes you too!”

And that could make a grown man cry. Zoro felt like he belonged here, with this curly family. But did they want him here? Was he welcome after all those years of being distant? Turns out the two answers were yes. They say kids are honest, which means the alpha finally had the permission to call this warm and curly world his own. Sanji might resist, but if Zoro bribes Sora to ask for him to stay, Curly would not be able to refuse their son.

“You are a very cool Papa too!” Sora swang their joined hands forwards and backwards, hopping here and there in excitement.

“Well, you are pretty cool yourself, Mini Curly.”

And the evening passed like that. Sanji ranted off about each and every fish in the tanks, listing facts on their biology, environment and adding some fun cooking facts here and there. Zoro himself didn’t really understand why the fish caught Curly’s attention so much, but he felt excited nevertheless.

It’s hard to stay neutral when the omega’s happiness is so contagious. Like a lamp in the dark room. Turn it on, and the walls will gain their colour, give you a sense of warmth and you won’t be so scared of the unknown anymore. Or like the stars on Sora’s ceiling, that take the light through the day and mesmerise you with their faint glow, lulling you to sleep.

Once they left, Curly looked like he just had the best bottle of sake. Well, that was Zoro’s perception of contented relaxation.

The sky was pitch black already, time of day still short due to only recently departed winter. The wind would blow now and then, but Sora and Zoro didn’t even notice it. The same could not be said for Sanji, though. The man looked like he just walked into the Arctic, hands rubbing his upper arms in an attempt to not freeze. Curly became worse and worse with cold temperatures, no matter how much the weather warmed up.

“Here you go, Mama!”

Sora looked up, eyes shining despite being lidded from exhaustion. There in his little tan hands, was a bouquet of flowers. Yellow Buttercups were just freshly torn from the ground, shining like the street lights on the road. The Forget-me-nots looked just as blue as the sea. Turns out Mini Curly was mapping out the flowers to gift to Sanji at the end of the day.

“Aw, my dear, they are beautiful!” But instead of taking the gift, the omega swiftly took their son into his arms. Curly wasted no time in covering Sora’s face in kisses. Not three this time, these were too fast and way too many for Zoro to try to count them, no matter how good the alpha was in maths.

“That’s not fair! Today is your kisses day!” 

And Sora didn’t disappoint. He took it as a challenge to give Sanji more kisses, and instead of covering the entire surface of the pale face in affection once, Mini Curly decided to do it twice.

Curlies are so sappy. But they made Zoro chuckle regardless.

Somewhere closer to the end of the round two of kisses attack, the kid’s eyes drifted shut. It was close to his bedtime, as well as the excitement of the day and the loving scent of milky cinnamon coming from Sanji were an effective sleeping pill. Sora nuzzled into the omega’s neck, arms wrapped around it too, and in no time Mini Curly was out like a light, snoring to his heart’s content.

“You are getting bigger by the day, mon coeur,” Sanji whispered as he placed the final kiss on the top of the green head, face only scrunching a little because of the weight. Or he is becoming weaker , and Zoro tried his best to shoo away that thought.

Today is Curly’s birthday, he doesn’t want to bring that up again. It was Sora’s order to make Sanji happy.

Zoro took off his jacket. Not like he needed it anyway. It would be better with a certain freezing and puffing omega by his side. With as much grace and frilly gestures, Zoro made a show of putting the furry coat on the thin shoulders.

Sanji turned his head, eyes wide in surprise and cheeks bright pink. Before the blond could even form a sentence in that pretty and fussy head of his, Zoro grabbed sleeping Sora from the caring and protective arms, that unconsciously reached for the child in desperation, into his own. But once Curly saw how the alpha was holding their son like he weighed nothing, noting how the pup nuzzled into the strong neck, the blond gave in.

One last thing was to rip away the bouquet that was still clutched in Sora’s hand and stuff it into the pale one of the confused omega. Using the opening Zoro decided to act. It was a risky move, he might end up with a kicked-in head after, but Sora gave his order.

Zoro reached for the elegant left hand that was the closest to him, and free of the bouquet. It took a minute to realise that when his tan rough fingers slid in between the long and swank-line ones, they fit oh so perfectly together. Like milk mixed in with coffee on lazy mornings.

The alpha pressed his lips to the soft skin of the knuckles. He felt bad because it was probably unfair how his dry lips scratched on the well-cared-for hand. But yet again, Sora’s orders.

“Happy birthday, Curly.”

And Zoro would have chuckled at how red Sanji’s face was if only that wasn’t the alpha’s new favourite expression. It was the contrast between the snow-like skin and the blush. Zoro just felt so drunk on that wine-red colour. If his hands weren’t full of his family, the alpha would have taken a picture. Next time then.

“D-did Sora teach you to be so romantic too, you old man?”

“ Old?! - I’m only thirty-one!”

“And I just turned twenty-five,” Well damn. 

“Anyway, romantic or not romantic, Mini Curly is a fine young gentleman,” Zoro tried to return the conversation and mood back to a happy one. Sanji just had to ruin everything with an insult, didn’t he? “You raised him well.”

All he got in response was a defiant turn of the blond head and a mumbled ‘ stupid Marimo ’. That's what he gets for trying to act nice for once!

Zoro waited for the pale hand to slip away from his, but it didn’t. It stayed there for the rest of their way home.

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

“Your dad is an unhygienic ogre!” Zoro heard that complain at least twice every day.

He started working again, a few days after Sanji’s birthday. But this time it was different. Instead of working the full day, the alpha worked until around six in the afternoon and came back to the warm home and a delicious dinner he had discovered and not the cheap hotels with similarly inexpensive meals.

Zoro’s perspective on work had changed as well.

It was no longer a way to become stronger, to clear the country from the scum of the Earth and come closer to his revenge. Now, it’s the means of making sure his family is safe and doesn’t need to worry about a roof above their heads and food.

The excited squeals Mini Curly lets out as soon as he hears and smells Zoro at the front door, already on and on about what he had done today. Lately, it mostly consisted of the kid proudly saying he had learnt a new song on the piano with Brook.

And Sanji would follow soon after, sometimes in that pink apron, but the same expression of false disinterest would be on the pale face. How is Zoro so sure? Well, the happy scent of milky cinnamon was difficult to hide.

Then the next morning, belly full of first-class breakfast, Zoro would be off to work again. Not without a slap to the head, a caring fix of his kimono and a big bento with his favourites for lunch break. It all seemed so pure and mundane as if the alpha wasn’t off to the headquarters of one of the most feared mafia clans in the world.

Zoro liked that routine because it made him feel less like a filthy criminal Kuina hated.

But now he might not be a filthy criminal but a filthy marimo if Zoro was to listen to Curly. So what if Zoro doesn’t iron his kimono for work? He is the boss there, no need to try and impress anyone. And his haramaki is perfectly hygienic! Yes, the alpha doesn’t put it in the wash as often as Sanji wants, but what of it? He will wash it when the blood stains become obvious or the smell gets too annoying to ignore.

“Okay Usopp, mind washing the dishes for me?” Sanji told the butler and motioned at the mountain of plates in the sink after their hearty dinner. “I need to make sure the Marimos get a shower.”

“Oi! I showered last we-!”

“A proper one, with shampoo and body wash,” the blond interrupted Zoro, poking an irritated finger right between the alpha’s pecs. “And we will see about increasing the frequency of the showers too.”

The blue eyes squinted in a challenge and Zoro knew it usually meant that no matter how much he struggles, Sanji will shove his ass into the water. The alpha sighed, just resigning to let Curly win this battle. Just because the omega won this fight doesn’t mean he won the war ! So Zoro walked over to Sora, who was sitting on the floor of the living room and swiftly grabbed the boy under his arms. Mini Curly didn’t question it, just shuffled around to get more comfortable. To the bathroom, they go, then.

“Wrong way, Marimo.”

Turns out they had an outdoor bath in this house. What else is there in this endless mansion that Zoro doesn’t know about and just how much money did Mihawk spend on this?! The room was more like a terrace with a small pool in the middle. It looked more like a hot spring than a bath, an indent in the wooden floors, decorated with white rocks and a built-in heating system. And all of that under a starry sky, might he add.

The Curlies only use it from time to time, because it is quite bothersome to drain and refill water in such a huge bath. As well as the weather only recently shedded its remaining shivers from winter, becoming warm enough to spoil the Roronoas with a quick fancy soak.

“Come on, no stalling,” In a matter of minutes Zoro and Sora were naked. With a shove to the older man’s back, the omega pushed the alpha closer to the steamy bath. Why does he get pushed around and Mini Curly is gracefully lowered into the water with lots of kisses?! And why the hell is Sanji still dressed in his kimono?

“Are you not with us?”

“I will take a shower once I teach you how to stay clean, you mossy pervert.” And with the last shove, Zoro loses his balance and falls into the hot spring. 

“Mama, are we going to teach Papa how to stay clean too?”

“Yes, my dear, I’m afraid Marimo is a lost cause in this department,” the blond said, and the dramatic bastard even shook his head with a pouty lip as if his husband was a disheartening disappointment.

“Oh, I will teach him that too then!” Sora moved, or more like swam, closer to his grumpy father who was mumbling something about stupid curlybrows. “Okay, first we-!”

“Mon coeur, you are forgetting that I am the one who helps you shower too, so leave this one to me, okay?” He was interrupted by a whisper from Sanji, who kneeled on the wooden floor right at the edge where it dipped into the hot spring, and leaned over to Sora’s ear.

“Ah. That’s true.”

“It’s not that hard, Curly. You just soak here for ten minutes and done,” Zoro tried to intervene, because why are these two conspiring like he is not even here?

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about, now shut up and turn around,” the omega scooted closer to the edge, rolled his long kimono sleeves up and secured it with a string. A small plastic water dipper, two sponges and a bunch of scented bottles appeared by Sanji’s side. “Dear, sit in front of your dad.”

They both followed the orders, Zoro with another grumble and Sora with an enthusiastic nod. It made Sanji chuckle at the image. Here in this bath, there were two marimos, almost as if they were in their natural habitat. Both green heads were a darker shade now due to the water, looking a lot like fresh seaweed.

But his amusement quickly switched into flustered awe. Here was Zoro, his back on full display. The alpha didn’t even glance over his shoulder to make sure that Sanji didn’t do anything suspicious there. The man was just sitting there and sulking like a huge cat who hated taking baths. Did that mean that Zoro trusts him now?

“My friend used to say that scars on the back are a swordsman’s greatest shame.”

With shy motions, as if afraid to scare a wild animal, the blond put a foamy sponge to the broad and unscarred back. Somehow Sanji got even more breathless than before when he wasn’t met with a growl. Not even a flinch. The back stayed calm and firm, as if it wasn’t Zoro’s most priced possession, just like Sanji’s hands were to him.

“Did you forget how to scrub backs, oh the all-knowing curly teacher?”

The teasing tone should have annoyed the omega. But it didn’t. On the contrary, it made Sanji sigh in relief. The only part of him that wasn’t calm was his heart. Marimo was so stupid, that he didn’t even know what his trust meant for the omega. It wasn’t an issue of being worthy, more like the feeling of finally being seen by his mate. Understood and allowed to be close. Something Sanji yearned for since childhood.

“Be quiet and help our son, oh the hopeless mossy student ,” and Sanji was meant to sound irritated, but he wasn’t sure if it was his warm cheeks, an uncontrollable smile or a soft tone that betrayed him. The amber gaze on his face made the omega feel unravelled, so he quickly shoved the second sponge into the waiting tan hands.

It never ceases to surprise Sanji how such a gruff man, a yakuza leader no less, can be so… silly . Here he is, in his full green glory and built like a brick wall, rubbing their son’s back with a comically intense concentration. The omega could see over Zoro’s shoulder how the alpha tried his best to be gentle and do a good job of covering every inch of Sora’s body. Not in a million years will Sanji believe that this grumpy ball of moss is the Demon of the East. Especially not with that pouty lip and stupid scowl.

They fell into silence. Well, relative silence if you don’t take into account Sora’s humming and random lyrics to a song he is making up along the way as he splashed around. When Sanji moved on to scrubbing Zoro’s hair with shampoo, a hand appeared over the muscular shoulder demanding its own share of shampoo so he could wash Sora’s hair too.

“Look up, Marimo,” it seemed that the grumpy tiger was tamed by a few scratches to his head because Zoro did as asked without a single protest or nickname.

Sanji put a gentle hand on the brown eyes, in an attempt to shield them from any soap or water while the blond was rinsing the shampoo out of the green hair. Once the task was done, the omega swiped his hand upwards to get any stray water droplets off from the wet forehead.

And Sanji didn’t realise the position until now. Since the blond was elevated on the wooden floor and Zoro was leaning back in relaxation on the rocky border of the submerged bath, the alpha’s head was lying comfortably on the omega’s lap. Sanji asked to look up and not lean on him once the blond was done. But the other looked cosy like this, all mushy from the water’s heat and face void of the usual frown due to a relaxing head massage. Definitely a lazy cat.

“Now you are a clean marimo,” Sanji didn’t know why he was smiling, but he couldn’t even bring himself to comment on the hair wetting the bottom of his favourite kimono. It was either the dumb expression on Zoro’s face or the fact that his husband let him absentmindedly play with the three golden earrings. Or maybe because Sora was just the exact same. When Sanji put the boy’s head in his lap, pale hands wandering to the forehead, then the hair and then the ears, his son would fall quiet and stare up at the omega with something in his eyes.

Marimos are weird.

And Zoro was lost. Lost in how the blue eyes looked so bright from his angle, the black starry sky not for a second more important than the curly omega looking down at him. The only type of lost the alpha was ever willing to admit to. 

He could see himself in them as if he was swimming in the ocean. Was Zoro allowed to stay there? He sure hoped so, because there wouldn’t be a better gift than to always be reflected in them. That would mean Curly’s full attention was on him. The only downside was that the right eye was obscured by golden locks. Such a shame really, but something selfish in Zoro was happy. Because those sapphires were only his to have, the cute curly eyebrows were his to adore.

Just a glance wouldn’t hurt.

Before Zoro could even rethink his action, the scarred hand already reached out to the pale face and brushed the blond bangs away. The alpha made sure to use the gentleness Sora taught him as he tucked the hair behind a flushed ear.

Oh . That’s what they call love?

It made Zoro laugh at how long it took for him to realise. And it wasn’t like in those sappy romances Curly seemed to be obsessed with. It wasn’t a beautiful date in an expensive restaurant when he realised his feelings. The alpha was at home, in a bath and naked. They had been married for nearly five years and hadn’t missed a day to start a fight with each other since January.

But for Zoro it was perfect. The care Sanji put into the family, not only now, but each and every second the blond breathed. The kindness he showed to everyone around him would it be Robin or Usopp, the tenderness and a safe space to be themselves and free to love in return. And the thing was that Sanji didn’t need to do anything to bring people joy.

How in a matter of four months Sanji made Zoro feel needed. How with just a nickname, a glance or a touch, the alpha’s world would spark anew. Curly never said that he loved him, on the contrary, the blond tried his best to show how much he hated Zoro. But his soul was too pure for a word like hate . Every action felt like the alpha was loved. Maybe even forgiven for the pain he caused in a selfish attempt to protect them.

How is it possible that a guy with Zoro’s faults, habits and sins found an angel like him?

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

Sanji has fallen sick.

It just had to happen right after Zoro realised he was in love. To be reminded that his actions are on a time limit and he has to make a choice right here and right now. To either stomp on those feelings, not water them, and not allow them to bloom until it’s too late. Or to confess as soon as possible.

But Zoro will think about it later. Right now he has a house to maintain, a son to feed and take care of. Because as soon as Sanji wasn’t there to let the place and people flourish, the whole construction crumbled.

Zoro had to be strong and level-headed just like the omega to not hurt everything Curly has built until the blond feels better.

“Zoro, I can help you, that’s my job,” Usopp said. Well, the real reason why the alpha hired the butler was to protect and help his husband, because he wasn’t there to do so.

“No, I’m going to take care of them myself this time,” Zoro brushed him off. Because now was the chance to prove that he was a capable spouse and a father too. It was his chance to redeem himself and finally dare to claim this family as his own. All he had to do was to follow everything that stupid ‘incapable-Zoro’ mission had taught him.

“Jeez, you got it down bad too. Sanji is like a magnet for overworked grumpy alphas…”

Well first was breakfast. This time was lucky because Curly had wrapped leftovers from yesterday. Zoro did his best to make sure Sanji gave in to lying in bed and resting this morning. It was through complaints and nicknames, the blond’s stubborn goal to ignore his fever and act as if he was okay. And the alpha had enough of that. He will not stand to see the person he loves to think that there was no one to take care of him.

It wasn’t hard to warm up a few plates for three people. Especially when Sanji made sure to beat the rules of using a microwave a few months ago. Just like he was taught, Zoro looked at the stickers. There were three plates wrapped in plastic: one without mushrooms and a yellow sticker on top, the second one with higher protein contents with a green sticker and the last one was smaller in size also with a green sticker but with a swirl drawn on it.

It was Zoro’s day off work, so after breakfast, he decided to be a good husband and do some laundry. Sanji said to separate the colours. Dark from light ones. Is red dark or light? What about green? Okay, fuck it. He will do just white first. Was Curly’s beige shirt also kind of white? Why is fucking laundry so hard?! Well, he could ask Sanji, but that would mean waking the omega up and admitting that he was a moron. Nope, not in this lifetime.

Turns out the food wasn’t infinite in this house, even if the omega tried to make it seem that way. Now Zoro was left with raw ingredients for dinner and a hungry kid. Cooking was the only thing Curly refused to teach him. He could back away and ask Usopp, but he wasn’t a quitter.

“So, Mini Curly, do you want to cook for your Mama together?”

“Yeah!”

And so they did. Which went horribly by the way.

Curse Sanji for making it look easy. Zoro knew something about different knives being used for different ingredients, but did that matter really? A knife’s job is to cut, not be prissy about what it is cutting into.

And the kitchen was actually a hazardous place. He asked Sora to help himself, but the same knives could leave the kid without a finger. Or what if he crawls into the oven and Zoro doesn’t notice? The stove is a different story entirely. The alpha doubted pups liked being on fire.

Okay, what matters is that the food is homemade. It doesn’t have to be one of those complicated recipes Sanji always makes, right? Hm, Koushiro would cook soup whenever one of the kids in the dojo was sick. Miso soup was the simplest and was quite…whatever Curly calls it… nutritious .

In the end, Sora’s helping was just observing his father’s pathetic attempts at cooking. The kid found the show extremely entertaining when Zoro just discovered that eggs are slippery and very fragile. The five cracked ones on the floor are the evidence.

“Ew, Papa, that’s too sweet!” But miso soup wasn’t supposed to be sweet? Zoro looked over at the packaging of white crystals he just added to the pot. That was fucking sugar.

After a few more tries where he had to restart the cooking entirely, the soup was ready. It looked like a parody of what Koushiro made for them, but it was way better than the first few tries. Even Sora, the assigned taste tester, stopped gagging and just wrinkled his nose now. That was a win in Zoro’s books, assuming that he didn’t burn off the kid’s tastebuds with his experiments.

“My kitchen isn’t burned down, is it, Marimo?”

Zoro was too busy making sure he didn’t shake the tray too much and spill the soup on it. No ‘thank you’ or a smile maybe, just a suspicious look poking out of the blanket. That’s what he gets for being a good husband and bringing over the dinner he made through blood and tears to the sick omega in bed.

“Shut up and eat,” Zoro grumbled as he waited for Sanji to sit up and put the tray on his lap. 

The blond didn’t look well, he knew it. Sanji winced while trying to sit up, aches in muscles that would follow through straight to every bone. He felt his flaming cheeks, but it wasn’t that recent feeling Marimo made him feel. The omega also tried his best to hide the bloody tissues under his pillow, in case anyone started to worry.

The tray that was settled on his lap looked like a buffet. The main course appeared to be miso, but Zoro clearly tried to compensate by putting fruits, cut bread and cheese and for some reason two glasses on it, one with water and the other with juice.

Under Zoro’s intense stare, Sanji decided to give the soup a try. It was way too salty, somehow sweet at the same time. The eggs weren’t boiled enough, however, the small cubes of tofu were on the contrary overboiled. The amount of green onions in there overwhelmed the flavour completely, despite being perfectly cut.

In other words, it was a disaster.

But it took just one glance at the glaring alpha, to understand that he wasn’t trying to intimidate. He was nervous. Sanji noticed the rubbing of the tan hands together, fingers wrapped with a few plasters that had drawings of animals on them. They were Sora’s. And the tense shoulders would twitch every time the blond brought the spoon to his mouth.

Here was the feared Demon of the East, all anxious because of the soup he made for his sick husband. Nobody will believe Sanji in a million years.

“Hm…” the omega pretended to think, rolling a spoonful of miso on his tongue. It was hard to restrain a grin at how Zoro curled on himself even more.

“It’s delicious, Mossy.”

And maybe now Sanji understood why his mother lied. She would praise every dish he made, even though the blond himself knew that they were far from edible. The omega thinks she enjoyed watching how Sanji’s shoulders relaxed and a relieved smile stretched across his face. When Zoro did the same, it made him want to eat the entire pot of this…unique miso.

“Try not to mix up salt and sugar next time, though.”

“Wha-?! I thought it wasn’t that noticeable!”

“You are cooking for a professional chef. Of course, I’d notice something like that, stupid.”

“Okay, that’s fair.”

After a few minutes, it was obvious Sanji wasn’t hungry anymore. Zoro could blame the taste, but with Curly’s views on food about not wasting a drop, that wouldn’t matter. But the blond looked uncomfortable by the time one-third of the soup was gone. The alpha wasn’t stupid, he had noticed his husband’s decreasing appetite. That worried him immensely, Sanji was getting thinner and thinner, but Zoro wouldn’t force the food into him.

“If you are full, just say so,” the alpha grabbed the tray and moved it to the nearby nightstand. Zoro saw the worry in the omega’s eyes, as his mouth moved to say something, but he reassured him, “Stop fussing, I won’t let it go to waste, Curly.”

The alpha helped the blond to lay back down because he might be not the brightest, but he wasn’t blind. He saw that wince, and if moving around was painful for Sanji, Zoro would become a support and do it for him. Curly mumbled something about manhandling but didn’t protest any further.

With a swipe of his hand, Zoro moved the golden locks that stuck to the warm forehead and tucked it behind the pale ear just like that time in the bath. It became his favourite thing because the soft touch made Curly melt and purr just a little, no matter how much he said not to touch him. And now, too lost in the haziness of his fever, Sanji didn’t put up any fight and just nuzzled into the tan hand. The blond probably tried to be subtle, but the alpha didn’t miss the attempts to inhale Zoro’s pheromones straight from the scent gland on the wrist.

“You are still burning up. Should we call the hospital?”

“No…Don’t bother him.”

It must be Law he was talking about. That alpha bastard that kept on scenting his husband. Sanji visited him a lot. Three or more times a week, and always came back stinking of the challenging coffee scent. That pervert would stink up the Roronoa house, without even being present. But apparently, it was a normal occurrence, because even Sora, being a young alpha, didn’t question a thing, just sniffed and continued with whatever he was doing.

“Okay, okay. But you need to sleep more then,” Zoro sighed, trying to reign in his thoughts and scent. A jealous alpha wouldn’t help Curly recover.

“All I’ve been doing is sleep up till now!” the exclamation made the blond cough, the throat already raw.

“Pft, me and Mini Curly can sleep through the day easily if you weren’t getting in the way of our naps.”

“It’s because you two are lazy green cats,” Sanji grumbled, pulling the blanket higher and tighter over himself.

“So you are saying you can’t do it?”

“Ugh, I didn’t say that! I will oversleep you two, just you wait!” Bingo . Through trial and error, Zoro found a way to make Sanji do something. It was initially impossible, especially when it had to do something with the omega taking care of himself. Curly hated losing, as did Zoro, so one comment on how the alpha could do it better did the trick.

“We will see about that,” Zoro stood up and picked up the tray to let the blond have his peace. “If the next time I come in here you aren’t asleep, you lose, Curlybrow.” The only thing he got in response was a childish tongue sticking out in a mocking manner.

Okay, now that his husband was resting, Zoro had to do the thing that was bothering him. The kitchen wasn’t burnt down, but it definitely wasn’t clean.

And like that, the days have passed. Zoro tried his best to maintain the house like Curly did it. Usopp would help here and there, the beta’s main duty was distracting Sora so the kid wouldn’t catch on to the fact that Sanji was resting in his room for over three days.

At some point, he had to buy groceries. The very first outing Zoro had with the Curlies four months ago taught him not to resign to ready-made food. This time the alpha did it alone, however. The shelf-arranging spies were here again! Zoro didn’t take Sora with him, because the supermarket meant food, and food meant cooking, and cooking meant Sanji, and Sanji meant Mini Curly finally catching on. He doubts even Usopp will be able to calm him down, and the omega won’t rest if his pup cries.

So it might have taken longer to shop, okay? Zoro planned on quickly stocking before dinner, but now that he looks at his phone, the time is way past Mini Curly’s bedtime and the alpha is yet to find the register.

“Okay, Usopp I’ll take it from here.”

It may or may not have been ten in the evening when Zoro got home. Usopp looked worn out because on day three of Sanji’s sickness Sora started questioning when his mother would get better. So the butler would have to make up some new game or story to entertain the kid. But the longer Curly was sick the more Sora would longingly stare at the omega’s bedroom door.

It took a bit more to cook and make his son take a shower. The boy was quieter now. No humming or tapping out melodies. Just an upset face looking to the floor. Sora didn’t even laugh at Zoro’s attempts at cooking anymore. Even when he put the pup to sleep, he just clutched at the curly fox and buried himself in the blanket.

The alpha stayed up longer, to clean the kitchen, to pull down the clothes from the drying line outside. Zoro noticed that all this just exhausted him more than the job he does on a daily. Maybe he should make a medal or something for Sanji for doing all of that with an infinite spring in his step.

But as soon as Zoro turned off the lights in the kitchen and stepped into the corridor that connected the rooms together, he noticed a lump curled on itself, sitting on the floor in front of Curly’s bedroom.

“Hey, kid, what are you doing here? You should be in bed.”

The lump was Sora, in his baby blue pyjamas that looked matching to Sanji’s. The plushy of a fox was pressed tight against the little chest.

“Mama is not getting better…” the blue eyes shined with unshed tears, as the boy tried to push himself further into the door as if the door would disappear the closer he leaned against it.

“Don’t be silly, Mini Curly. Tomorrow you will see him, I promise,” And he wasn’t lying. Sanji was getting better it’s just Zoro forced him to take today off just in case. Tomorrow will be no stopping him, the alpha was sure.

“What if he is sick because monsters visit him at night?”

“Monsters?”

“Yeah, and I wasn’t there to protect Mama?”

Zoro knew the feeling. The feeling when the person you love is hurting and you are helpless against it. That if only he was stronger, Sanji wouldn’t be sick, Sora wouldn’t be sad and Usopp wouldn’t be exhausted. He wanted to take the pain away, but it wasn’t a physical enemy. Zoro couldn’t cut it with a sword and be done with it. But he had to do something. To protect like the instincts kept on telling him to do.

“How about we guard Curly for tonight then?” Zoro offered.

Sora was Sanji’s son after all, so he could tell that if he tried to get the pup to bed, it would end up in kicking and refusing. The Curlies are stubborn. But he couldn’t just leave him here alone. Luckily Zoro had developed the skill to sleep on any surface imaginable. He can sleep in the corridor and act as a bed for his son for tonight.

The next morning Sanji felt better. No Marimos will force him to stay in bed today. He hasn’t seen his treasure for three days! The blond stood up as fast as possible to get dressed in his usual kimono. It was still very early for anyone to be awake now, so maybe he would be able to feed his family with a proper breakfast now.

With a yawn, the omega pushed his bedroom door. However, it opened only about a few centimetres before getting stuck. Sanji gave it a few pushes, and it still didn’t bulge. And the shove with his shoulder was met with a loud grunt in response. Doors don’t grunt . The blond squeezed through the opening he managed to get, to look at what was blocking the door.

The problem turned out to be big, muscular, half-naked and green. With his baby boy snuggled on his toned stomach.

Sanji kneeled beside the cuddling Marimos. Were they here because of him? Because he was sick? Were they worried? The blond couldn’t help the way his heart twisted at the scene. That was what he imagined his married life would be. Caring and loving, warm and soft. And he got it in the end.

What did he do to deserve it? How come people here in Kuraigana give him everything he longed for and more?

The omega unconsciously reached for his son’s hair, running gentle fingers through the green locks. Sora sniffed around a bit, and it seemed the boy caught on Sanji’s scent judging by the way the small body melted on top of Zoro’s and a soft smile grazed his lips.

Not stopping his caresses, the blond looked around. The walls weren’t full of Sora’s drawings. The smell from the kitchen wasn’t burnt. His son’s pyjamas smelled fresh and clean. The green hair he was caressing was fluffy and with a fragrance of Sora’s shampoo. The pup’s eyes weren’t puffy from crying.

A sense of pride flared within Sanji. He had finally guaranteed Sora’s well-being and love after he is gone. 

Zoro did a great job.

With his heart beating a mile a minute, Sanji leaned in to the two boys on the floor. He placed his usual three kisses on Sora’s face. But instead of leaving it at that, the omega moved on to Zoro.

One kiss on the right cheek made the eyebrows furrow. The second one right on the scar across the tan nose made the alpha grumble in irritation from being softly awakened. The last kiss on the left cheek made Zoro finally open his eyes in confusion.

“Wake up, Mossy. Operation Papa is officially over!”

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

That stupid bastard Law was in their house.

Usopp had the right thought to call the doctor over this morning, to give Sanji a check-up because the blond would never do so himself. So Zoro couldn’t even be mad or send the asshole back to where he came from.

Wasn’t it weird that Law arrived exactly thirty minutes after Usopp’s call? Doesn’t he have his doctor-y duties to fulfil? And yet again Zoro shouldn’t be mad at such a quick response to check on his husband, but if the alpha had the choice he would have asked for a different doctor.

The bastard wasn’t shy either. As soon as he walked into the living room, Law shot a challenging glance right at Zoro who was sitting with Sora on the couch. The was no greeting, not even a polite acknowledgement. The doctor just made a face as if he saw a dead rat on the pavement.

“Let's go to your room, Sanji. We need to talk,” Law stepped into the kitchen, interrupting the omega’s cooking, and grabbed the pale wrist with his nasty tattooed hand.

Who does he think he is?! Grabbing his husband so harshly, calling him by his first name so informally and dragging the blond through the house as if he knew this place like the back of his hand?! Don’t forget about stinking up the house even more with those coffee pheromones.

But all Zoro could do was sigh. Despite the bite on the pale neck, and the documents to signify their marriage, the alpha had no claim over Curly. He couldn’t protest if Law was the one he chose. That would be a fair punishment for the years of neglect Zoro had put him through.

However, Sanji is the person he loves! It doesn’t matter who the omega will give his heart to, Zoro will be there from now on to protect him from ill-mannered pricks.

Yes, Zoro made a decision. No more hiding. No more avoiding this curly family in order to keep them away from danger. No matter how hard the alpha wanted to do so, he couldn’t bring himself to leave them again. Not because they couldn’t live without him. On the contrary, Zoro knew that he was the one who wouldn’t last a day without sensing the omega and the pup beside him, eating warm food, bickering, movie nights, affection and much more.

He will protect his family from within this time.

So yeah, Zoro used his years of training as a hitman and a spy to crawl over to Sanji’s bedroom door, crack it open just enough to see what was going on inside but not to give his presence away, and eavesdrop. Yeah, yeah, privacy and all, but what if this snaky doctor pulls some questionable shit?

And he did! For some reason, Law was the one to sit on the edge of Sanji’s nestless bed. The blond comfortably stood in between the doctor’s legs, the kimono sliding off his shoulders. This was way too inappropriate! But it wasn’t Zoro’s place to intervene…Ugh! It was hard to keep the growl in.

“Your lungs seem to have liquid inside them. I suspect it might be blood,” turns out Law wasn’t doing anything suspicious. Looking closer the doctor put away a stethoscope.

“O-oh, I didn’t even notice there was something wrong with my lungs!” Well, the blond was clearly lying. When he finished fixing his kimono, Sanji’s hand started to do the fidgety thing. And Law noticed it too.

“Usopp told me you’ve been feeling dizzy more lately. Are you lying to me, Sanji?” And no matter how much Law tried to sound stern, Zoro recognised the slight shake in his voice. Those grabby hands even reached for Sanji’s hips, clutching at the fabric there. And the omega didn’t push him away.

“Ugh, curse that Long-nose and his runny mouth…” Curly mumbled, looking away from the doctor’s full of emotions gaze.

“Come on, Sanji, you need to work with me here,” Zoro didn’t know Law’s voice could be so gentle. With the same soft motion, the alpha moved his hand from the blond’s hip to the pale freckled cheek. With a few swipes of the rough thumb, that looked full of gentle care, Curly looked at Law again. “I need to know every change in your condition so I can work on the cure.”

“I know, but you have done so much already…”

“No! Stop being stupid, I haven’t done nearly enough!” and the deep voice finally cracked. Law didn’t shed tears, but his face crumbled into pieces with the outburst.

So that’s how it is. Law wasn’t shady, he was just as in love as Zoro was. Maybe even for longer. And the weight on the doctor’s shoulders was too big for Zoro to even comprehend. Sanji’s well-being, the omega’s future depended on Law’s ability to come up with a cure. The blond realised that too, so in his usual selfless fashion, he lied and hid away the fact that his condition was worsening by the second.

With a soft sigh, Sanji slowly moved his pale hands to the doctor’s tired face, as if afraid he would make everything worse. In a caring motion, the omega led Law to nuzzle into his stomach, gently wrapping his thin arms around the head. 

As soon as the doctor’s surprise vanished, the arms circled around the omega’s narrow waist. It looked desperate. As if a man in the desert had finally found water. As if Sanji was the only thing important to Law. The alpha was ready to offer his life to whatever being that kept on tormenting the blond if only that meant that Sanji would live a day longer.

“You are working so hard for me…” The omega whispered as the elegant hands ran through the black hair. “But I don’t want you to neglect your own life for mine.”

“You don’t understand…” Law’s voice sounded muffled from where he was hugging Sanji’s waist. “How else am I supposed to help you…?”

“Well, changing the hospital room design, would be a great start,” the omega chuckled in a clear attempt to lighten the mood and ease the doctor’s heavy thoughts.

“You always complain about it,” Law chuckled too. Sanji’s plan worked, as the alpha looked up to meet the blond’s eyes, but still not letting go of the thin waist. “I told you already that I can’t just demand that, no matter how much I want to let you have this one thing.”

“Well, I’m your boss’s son-in-law!” Sanji pouted playfully, caressing the black hair here and there. “Besides maybe I would feel better if the hospital I call the second home now wouldn’t look like a psych-ward…”

“But, Sanji-”

“Please?”

“... Fine! I’ll get you your deluxe-comfort hospital room,” Well that was easy. It seems Usopp was right when he said that Law had a hard time saying no to Sanji.

Zoro decided that now was the time to stop spying on the two. Law wasn’t as shady as the alpha thought. At least not to Curly. The desperation and love the doctor so openly showed the omega were so obvious, that only someone as oblivious to affection as Sanji wouldn’t notice. So if in the end the blond chooses Law, Zoro knows that he will be cared for.

“Ask your daddy to redesign the room three hundred and twenty, got it?” Law hissed the order right into Zoro’s ear as if it were a threat before he left the house. It probably was. Pft, Zoro was planning on doing that without that bastard commanding him around.

Just because Law loved Sanji, didn’t mean Zoro would just sit here and watch! He wouldn’t be a Roronoa if he gave up without fighting for it. If Law planned on courting Curly, he just had to court him first.

Yes, Zoro made the decision. To confess as soon as possible. His mopping and bleeding heart will not magically cure the omega’s illness. So, if Sanji really did have one year left, the alpha would make sure to make it the happiest, the most unforgettable year of the blond’s life. It will be full of love, aquariums, Sora, sappy romance and everything else Zoro never pictured himself doing. Not even once will Sanji be allowed to think he is not loved.

But Zoro had to make Curly fall in love with him first. And he already had a perfect plan for it.

“Mini Curly, I’ve got a serious mission for you!” Zoro stomped into the music room, where Sora was pressing some notes on the piano in concentration. But as soon as his father called for his attention, especially as important as a new mission, the pup straightened and ran up closer to the alpha.

“You need Mr. Knight?!”

“Mr. Knight?” So, did they have to have code names now?

“Yeah! Mama is a prince, and princes need a knight to protect them!” Sora explained and stuck his chest out in pride.

“I want to be a knight too then!” It seemed pretty cool in Zoro’s opinion. He will be the World’s Greatest Knight and protect Curly from certain meddling doctors.

“But that would be too confusing!” Sora complained. The boy took a few seconds to think something over before finally brightening up. “You can be Mr. Marimo!” And why does it always come down to this nickname?

“Wha-?! Ugh, okay fine, it doesn’t matter,” Zoro sighed, he always got the short end of the stick in his curly household, nothing new. “The mission is called…”

“Operation Mama: I love you!”