Archive of Our Own ^beta

Recruiting a new crew member isn’t exactly a common occurrence for the Straw Hat pirates.

It’s never unwelcome though. Somehow Luffy has the perfect ability to pick the right people that match his specific brand of chaos. Of course, they all go through that initial stage of denial, insisting that they’re not nearly as crazy as their wild and unruly captain nor the rag-tag bunch of people that come with him. After all, it is perfectly understandable to look at the Thousand Sunny and the Straw Hat’s and think that it’s not exactly a crew that seems particular stable.

Yet Sanji has also seen every single crew member slowly give up that fight. Even Robin, who’s denial lasted the longest out of all the crew, eventually leant into the madness after Luffy wore her right down.

So Jinbei isn’t an unpleasant nor an unwelcome addition to their crew. If anything, they all agree that it’s been coming for a long time with the way Luffy has always looked at him with that same determination he looked at all of them with once. Sanji’s actually more surprised that it took until after Wano for their captain to convince Jinbei to join, and he knows he’s not alone in thinking the fishman is lucky he’s wasn’t strong armed into the Straw Hats by Luffy after Fishman Island.

However, despite their enthusiasm, they didn’t exactly think about the logistics of another crew member… not until Usopp pointed it out the first night they’re all finally gathered together again on the Sunny.

It’s after dinner, their rumbustious meal a little more disastrous than usual thanks to the excitement of Jinbei’s presence. Luffy manages to steal off every single person’s plate despite the numerous punches and attempted stabbings with forks, Zoro passes out asleep at the head of the table with a bottle of pilfered sake dangling from his fingers, Brook pulls out his violin which causes Franky to scramble for his guitar, Robin is nothing but encouraging as Franky warbles love tunes her way, and Usopp and Chopper fall into a competition over who can create the better mashed potato house which Nami surprisingly joins in on with gusto.

Sanji’s still impressed at Jinbei’s ability to not even bat an eyelid at the nonsense, instead easily able to fend off Luffy’s grabby hands and he even politely thanks Sanji for the wonderful meal when Sanji finally slumps into a seat with his own plate piled with food near the end of the meal.

Sanji admittedly preens at the attention. After all, it’s not often that he gets a compliment from someone new.

But it’s after Jinbei has excused himself, the other’s starting to stand to do the same, that Usopp stands and clears his throat loudly.

Everyone pauses, and Sanji raises his eyebrow from where he’s already elbow deep in dishes on the other side of the bench. Even Zoro cracks open his eye the slightest, none of them used to Usopp being the one to hold everyone up.

Usopp’s eyes widen, no doubt surprised at all the attention being on him. “I have a concern,” he manages to squeak out, not looking at anyone in particular, “about the current living arrangements.”

There’s a long silent moment, everyone exchanging frowns and glances, but then Franky’s mouth drops open with a loud clang.

“Oh,” he says, and Usopp begins nodding. “Oh no.”

“Oh no is right.”

Sanji huffs. “You two mind filling the rest of us in then?”

Usopp and Franky exchange a long look before Usopp slumps back into his seat and Franky rises. “Well,” he starts, glancing at Sanji briefly before directing his voice to the whole crew, “unfortunately, when I designed the ship, I didn’t exactly accommodate for the amount of… male crew members we currently have.”

There’s another lull, and then Sanji suddenly clicks, eyes widening.

What the other two are clearly trying to hint at and what Sanji has just realised, is that their quarters… isn’t quite big enough.

It was built for six males, Franky’s engineering brilliant at the time but limited by foresight. When he’d built the Sunny there was plenty of room for the five current male members, and when he’d joined it hadn’t mattered, the six bunk beds in the male quarters still enough to hold them all.

Then Brook had come along and things changed. Franky has been saying for who knows how long now that he was always going to build two more beds, but Brook hadn’t minded. He rarely slept anyway, he’d pointed out to them the first time they’d all stood in the male quarters sheepishly looking for a spare non-existent bed, and he’s been happily crashing on the couch or taking one of their beds if one of them was on watch for years.

But now there’s someone else, and Sanji is very thankful that Usoop has the tact to wait until Jinbei was out of earshot before bringing it up. They don’t need to make their newest crew mate feel unwelcome by the debacle this whole thing is no doubt about to become.

Everyone is staring at one another still, unsure how to continue broaching this topic, but then Zoro lets out a huff from the head of the table.

“It’s fine,” he grumbles, closing his eye again as he pushes his seat onto its back two legs, foot balancing his unstable weight on a table leg. “Adding another locker shouldn’t be a problem.”

“It’s not the lockers I’m worried about,” Ussop hisses, “it’s the beds, you idiot.”

Sanji’s eyebrows raise, not used to Usopp snapping at Zoro like that. Normally he’s terrified of Zoro and the three swords hanging off his belt, but it seems his stress over the situation is winning out as he glares at their unfazed swordsman.

However, it’s what makes the two ladies suddenly realise what’s happening, and Nami lets out a loud laugh. “Oh,” she giggles. “You guys are worried about who’s sleeping where?”

She continues to laugh, Sanji finds it so delightful, and even Robin hides a smile behind her hand. Usopp isn’t pleased by that at all though and he turns his glare to her now.

“It’s not that simple,” he snaps, smacking his hands down on the table with a loud crack.

“Watch it, long nose,” Sanji mutters, but Usopp pretends not to hear him.

“We don’t have enough beds to go around as is,” Usopp continues, and Nami’s eyebrow raises in a perfect curve. “And with the couch completely broken,” he throws his hands in the air to punctuate the word, “we’re now down beds for two crew mates.” .

“So?” Nami gives him an unimpressed look. “Franky should be able to knock up a couple tonight. What’s the big deal?”

Franky clears his throat. “We didn’t exactly stock up on building materials before we left Wano.”

Another round of silence. Sanji’s the only one to break it, continuing to wash and stack the glasses from dinner on the bench. Chopper is supposed to be helping him with the dishes tonight, but he’s instead looking wide eyed  as he glances between Usopp and Nami like its some sort of sport that’s any second from turning bloodthirsty. Sanji blows out a puff of smoke from his cigarette where it dangles between his lips. He’ll have to drag the little reindeer over later.

“Perhaps,” Brook suddenly pipes up, “a couple of us could share with the ladies-”

He doesn’t even manage to get his sentence out before Nami is slamming a fist into his head. Sanji’s leg is raised, ready to clear the counter to attack the skeleton too, but it looks like Nami has it well under control.

“Like hell that will happen!” she roars, punching the skeleton a few more times for good measure as he whimpers into the table top. “It’s not our fault you lot are so stupid! This must’ve been a problem for years!”

It has, Sanji thinks as he turns back to his dishes. Nami is very astute picking that up. However he decides the conversation is very much not something he’s interested in right now as Franky begins to protest, Chopper joins in at the broad accusation, and Luffy begins to laugh as Usopp and Nami start yelling at one another, using Brook’s head as as punching bag between them. He’s got more important things to do, and the others can sort it out without him.

Who sleeps where is not his concern when he’s sure his bunk will be safe from any outcome here. After all, Chopper is always happy to share with one of them so that solves at least one issue, and Luffy is also prone to slipping into another bunk every now and again.

It seems clear cut to Sanji that those two are the ones to pick to bunk in with someone else if it comes down to that.

The squabbling gets louder and louder though, Sanji’s surprised that Jinbei hasn’t come running back to see what all the fuss is about, and he’s ignoring it all perfectly well until Nami’s voice cracks across the room.

“Well then who broke the bloody couch?!”

Sanji glances up in time to see Usopp thrust a finger his way. “Sanji and Zoro did!” he yells back. “During another one of their stupid fights!”

Sanji snorts. It wasn’t a stupid fight. Zoro had made a snarky comment about Sanji wearing gloves on their way to Onigashima and Sanji had pulverised him and his stupid swords into the couch in return. He’d honestly thought Franky had reinforced it at some stage considering the rather violent nature he and Zoro exhibit and that’s not including Luffy too, but as Zoro had glared up at him from what remained of the singed cushions and broken wood, he realised maybe he hadn’t.

Brook hadn’t been pleased, but it wasn’t like there was anything they could do before the raid. Anyway, Franky can fix it easily once they get more materials.

“Fine!” Nami throws her hands up in the air this time, righteous fury blazed over her face as Sanji is jolted from his thoughts. “Then they can share until Franky can make some new beds!”

The shattering of a plate hitting the floor and the thunk of a chair slamming back down on all four legs cracks through the room.

Sanji’s mouth drops open, not paying any attention to the broken crockery in front of him. “Nami, darling,” he calls out, raising his hands as if in platitude, “please think this-”

“I’m not sharing anything with dartbrow over there, witch,” Zoro interrupts with a snarl. Sanji’s temper flares and he can’t help himself as he vaults over the counter towards the swordsman.

“Shut your filthy mouth, marimo,” he shouts, raising his leg to bring down on Zoro’s head. Zoro meets it with a quickly raised sheathed sword, the crack of heel and hardened wood loud in the room. “Don’t you dare speak to Nami like that!”

“I do what I want, shit cook,” Zoro snaps back, rising to meet Sanji as he pushes away his leg. He pulls out a second sword, both still sheathed in their saya’s, but they’re still threatening enough being wielded by the swordsman. Sanji’s eyes narrow as he raises his leg, the muscles in his thighs tightening and already crying out in eagerness for their battle.

“Enough!”

Nami roars, and Sanji falters as he hears the sheer anger in the one word. Zoro even glances her way in surprise, and Sanji regretfully turns his back on their fight just to see Nami staring them down from her place at the table, eyes alit with a beautiful fury.

“You two need to cut this shit out,” she yells, and everyone at the table starts to lean back in their seats at the rage pouring off their navigator. “It’s unacceptable! None of us care for your stupid squabbles anymore.” She huffs and crosses her arms, her glare cutting. “You will share until further notice. Hopefully it will make you two get along better.”

Sanji’s mouth drops open, his cigarette falling to the ground. “I’ll stay in the galley,” he says just as Zoro pipes up with, “I’ll stay in the crows nest.”

There’s a tense silence as everyone glances at Nami, but it’s not her that answers.

It’s Luffy, who’s sitting at the other end of the table, watching them all with a bright grin. “Zoro and Sanji have done it now,” he chortles, eyes closed as he keeps giggling, looking like he’s throughly enjoying what’s happening. “Nami isn’t happy.”

“When is she ever,” Usopp grumbles, but his mouth clicks shut when Nami throws him a reproachful look.

Luffy just claps his hands together and stands up. “Nami’s right,” he decides, and Sanji is satisfied to see Zoro’s mouth drops open as well, glad he’s not the only gawker. “Zoro and Sanji made the mess. They have to clean it up.”

“That doesn’t mean we have to share the same-” Sanji starts to say, but Luffy is clearly done with the conversation.

“Captains orders!” he throws over his shoulder as he heads for the door, and the silent click of it closing behind him is nearly deafening in the room, everyone exchanging surprised looks.

Zoro doesn’t linger after their captains departure, instead tucking his swords back into the sash at his side before reaching for the abandoned bottle of sake on the table and storming from the room. His shoulder thumps into Sanji’s as he goes past, and it’s only because Sanji’s still in a state of shock that he doesn’t kick the bastard in the back in return.

Luckily, the crew seems to get their wits about them quickly enough and they all hurry from the room as well, eager to escape the storm cloud that is probably floating over Sanji’s head. Sanji gathers himself in time though to hook his fingers into Chopper’s shirt, hauling him back to help with the dishes despite his attempts to scramble out after Usopp.

It’s fine. Sanji doesn’t say anything as he scoops up his dropped cigarette and lights another, puffing out smoke like a chimney as he cleans up the shattered plate and washes the last of the dishes with a ferocity that seems to scare Chopper. The moment the last dish is put away, Chopper flees out the door without a backwards glance.

Surely, Sanji thinks as he leans against the counter top, Luffy can’t be serious. He shakes his head. He’d rather sleep on the galley’s lumpy couch for the rest of his life than share one of those already claustrophobic bunks with Zoro. The thought makes something itch in his chest, makes his stomach roll with what he’s determined to think is disgust, and he nearly bites through his cigarette filter at the thought of sleeping next to that stupid musclehead.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Unfortunately, there’s not a lot to do after he’s finished prepping for the morning. Sanji isn’t entirely sure when they’ll come across another island and his stores are looking a little sore. Their meals will have to be simplified for the time being, so the breakfast he plans for the next morning doesn’t take a lot of organisation time.

The lack of anything to do and the growing exhaustion building over his shoulders eventually has Sanji deciding it’s time for bed. The ship is quiet, everyone else long since retired for the evening besides Robin, and Sanji climbs up into the crows nest to offer her a warm cup of tea alongside a plate of shortbread biscuits she loves. She’s very appreciative and complimentary, and Sanji feels like he’s walking on clouds as he finally heads for the mens quarters.

Just to get changed, he tells himself, and then he’ll go crash on the couch in the galley. It pains him to ignore Nami’s instructions, and even Luffy’s to a degree, but he will not be sharing a bed with Zoro.

It turns out, the swordsman doesn’t share the same opinion.

He’s standing in the middle of the room when Sanji enters, dragging one of his sleeping shirts over his head. Sanji had been stunned to find out Zoro actually had those, figuring the caveman would just sleep in his clothes non-stop until he bathed once a week, but turns out that Zoro isn’t as much of a savage as Sanji thinks he is.

Doesn’t mean he’s still not a complete and utter caveman though. Sanji stumbles to a halt when Zoro tugs down his shirt and meets his eyes, just before his gaze flickers to the only available bunk still in the room… Sanji’s bunk.

Sanji stares back, feeling a dawning horror as he sees the determined set to the swordsman’s jaw. He glances over briefly to see Chopper is already curled up with Usopp and Jinbei is crashed out in Zoro’s clearly vacated bunk. He nearly swears. Of course, he realises, all thoughts of fleeing back to the galley falling away and not of his own accord. Of all the crew, it’s Zoro who takes captains orders as the law they’re supposed to be, even if they’re completely ridiculous.

“No.” Sanji shakes his head and crosses his arms, careful not to raise his voice in case anyone is still awake. There’s a phenomenal amount of snoring though, so he doubts it very much.

Zoro just crosses his arms in return, clearly defiant. “Captains orders.”

A muscle twitches in Sanji’s jaw. “Don’t be an idiot.”

Zoro’s eye narrows. “Captains orders.”

Sanji knows a losing battle when he sees one, but he’s never gone down without a fight. “I will not share a bed with you,” he hisses, hands tightening into fists.

Zoro just stares before he turns to walk over to Sanji’s bunk, leaning against it to clearly wait. Sanji wants to scream and tear his hair out, so many feelings rolling around in his stomach that he refuses to pay attention to, before he lets out a frustrated noise and stomps over to his locker.

“Fuck you, mosshead,” he mutters under his breath, and he hears a huff of amusement behind him. He flicks Zoro a rude gesture over his shoulder as he shoves on his pyjamas, trying not to flush knowing the swordsman is probably watching him, before he turns to head to his bunk.

Thankfully, being a bottom one means there’s not going to be any clambering over anyone or risk of waking someone up. Although Luffy’s arms are dangling over the sides of his bunk above Sanji’s, and Sanji bites back the urge to start kicking them in frustration.

“So,” he grumbles, glaring at Zoro who seems ridiculously unfazed by all of this. “How are we going to do this?”

Zoro stares at him for a moment longer, face completely unreadable, but then he just turns to rests the swords in his hand against the side of Sanji’s bunk and clambers into bed.

Seeing Zoro lying amongst his sheets, green hair splaying out over his pillow… it does something funny to Sanji’s chest and he feels the burn of a flush on his cheeks. He decides its anger and outrage, not at all willing to entertain the possibility of it being something else, and he quickly gathers himself before he takes a deep breath.

Guess they’re really doing this.

Even though the size of some of his crew mates shows the bunk beds are pretty strong, Sanji is still worried it’ll collapse under his and Zoro’s combined weight as he very carefully slips into bed beside the swordsman. He’s not even under the covers fully when he realises how difficult this is going to be, how little room there is for the two of them. They’re not exactly small men, and he grits his teeth as he hauls himself onto his side with his back facing Zoro.

There’s a still moment before he feels Zoro shift to mirror him, their backs pressed up against one another, and Sanji hates how uncomfortable it is. His knees are pressed painfully into the side of the bunk, his back unnaturally straight as its braced against Zoro’s, probably because the swordsman’s knees are in the same position. One arm is tucked under his pillow, but the other lies awkwardly on his side, no room to move it back further less he elbow Zoro in the side and frankly he’s not in the mood to start another fight right now.

He glares at the door to the mens quarters, hears Zoro rustling behind him as he too obviously tries to get comfortable, and Sanji lets out a long breath.

“This isn’t working.”

“No shit,” Zoro mutters, and Sanji grits his teeth.

“You did this,” he can’t help but blame, ignoring Zoro’s spluttered indignation at the accusation. “You fix it.”

He honestly meant that Zoro should get out of his bunk and find somewhere else to sleep… he’s definitely not expecting the swordsman’s actual response.

Behind him, Zoro swears once then he rolls over. Before Sanji even has a moment to register the movement, Zoro is suddenly pressing his chest right up against Sanji’s back, slipping an arm over Sanji’s waist before Zoro gives him a sharp tug. Sanji’s breath catches as he’s hauled across the bunk, paralysed with surprise as Zoro manhandles himself into curling right around Sanji, his knees pressing into the backs of Sanji’s, his breath warm on the back of Sanji’s neck.

They’re cuddling, Sanji realises. Worse. They’re spooning.

It’s only because a sudden feeling of comfort falls over him that Sanji doesn’t immediately throw an elbow back into Zoro’s solar plexus and bolt for the door. There’s definitely more room in the bed, his knees are no longer knocking the edge of the bunk, and Sanji hadn’t quite realised how cold he was until Zoro’s entire warm body was plastered to his back.

“Better?”

Zoro sounds smug, and Sanji grits his teeth so hard he thinks he hears them creak. Asshole, he wants to snap. He wants to kick the bastard in the shins and smother him with the pillow. He’d even contemplate dragging him outside and throwing him overboard if he weren’t so tired.

Instead, a small traitorous part of him that he’s been vehemently denying for years roars it head, and Sanji has to bite down on the overwhelming urge to cover the warm scarred hand resting on his hip with his own.

“Shut the fuck up and go to the sleep,” he mutters instead, and Zoro laughs behind him.

…

Unfortunately, they don’t find another island for another five days.

Overall, it’s not a significant amount of time. They’ve gone much longer in the past, weeks even, but for Sanji… it’s more a personal stakes kind of thing.

After all, sharing his bunk with Zoro isn’t exactly the most enjoyable of experiences.

Sure, there’s that small traitorous part of him that seems to have picked up a lot more gusto now, raring its ugly head. Sanji guesses it’s too be expected considering his close quarters to the object of that part of him’s desires, but Sanji is also very well versed now in self-denial and is well apt at shoving any unwanted feelings far far down where they can’t come back up.

Not that it’s working. Each night where he lies with Zoro’s arm draped over his hips and Zoro’s hot breath against the back of his neck seems to just make the cracks in his resistance splinter just a little more. He chews through more cigarettes than normal, cooks late into the night in a bid to avoid sleeping, and even once falls asleep on the galley sofa only to wake up in his bunk with a very vague memory of being carried there by stupidly strong arms.

It’s infuriating.

So when Nami announces the upcoming island, Sanji nearly weeps in relief. Finally, he thinks, freedom is only a hairs breadth away. Freedom from Zoro, freedom from his thoughts, freedom from the swelling in his chest that he can’t get fucking rid of.

The excitement only diminishes a little when Nami clarifies to say it’s a city-less island, potentially unpopulated full stop, and Sanji turns desperate eyes to Franky.

“But you can still find wood, right?” Sanji asks, pointing back at the approaching island and the visible trees on it. “Right?”

Franky just laughs and claps a hand on Sanji’s shoulder, nearly sending him through the deck. “You got it, cook-bro,” he cheerfully tells him. “Well, provided it’s good enough wood to work with. You know, there are different types of tree…”

Sanji zones him out, fully prepared to admit he couldn’t give less of a shit about whatever babble about trees Franky is going on about, but also polite enough to slap on a face of pretend interest. His gaze wanders over the deck to where Zoro is though, stretched out on the grass with Chopper cradled in his lap, the two of them napping peacefully.

It makes Sanji’s chest squeeze in an embarrassingly warm way, and he grits his teeth as he forces himself to turn back to Franky’s droning.

When they finally reach the island, Nami directing them into pulling the Sunny into a suitable spot for port in the absence of an actual dock, they’re all a little surprised to see its a winter island. Snow trickles down from the sky onto the Sunny’s deck, and they all shiver as the once warm air turns frigid and frozen.

It doesn’t deter Luffy at all though. Nami and Usopp barely wrangle him into his long red and white puffer coat from Punk Hazard before he’s slingshotting overboard, managing to snag Brook and Robin in the process, and the rest of them watch as they crash in a heap on the snowy shore.

“Well,” Nami mutters, hands on her hips, “guess they’re babysitting Luffy this trip.”

It doesn’t take long for the rest of them to figure out their plans. Franky recruits Chopper into helping him seek out timber with Usopp cheerfully volunteering to go along too. Nami is curious about trying to find a settlement or someone on the island, and Sanji quickly decides to go with her. She doesn’t look overly happy, perhaps Sanji was a little too forward in his desperation to accompany her, but Jinbei wants to come too and Nami, for some bizarre reason Sanji doesn’t dream to understand, decides Zoro should follow suit.

“Someone needs to stay with the ship, witch,” Zoro grumbles, and it’s only because Sanji’s currently occupied helping Chopper into his own snow clothes that he doesn’t thump the bastard for the rude comment.

“On a deserted island?” Nami snaps and glares at Zoro. “You’ll probably fall asleep and float off into the distance anyway, idiot. You’re coming. We might need a pack mule if we come across a settlement.”

“You’ve got Jinbei.”

The protest falls flat and soon they’re all disembarking, splitting off into their two groups, Usopp and Nami pocketing Den Den Mushi’s to keep in contact. Sanji can’t help but smile as he watches Chopper trot along between Franky and Usopp in walk point, towing along a sled. It’s sweet, especially how cheerful Chopper is, although Sanji snorts when Usopp tries to climb on the sled and Chopper promptly kicks him in the head.

He turns to catch up to Nami, trailing just behind her and Jinbei as they follow the footsteps left in the snow by Luffy and the others. Zoro is beside him, hands firmly shoved in his coat pockets and looking completely pissed off but Sanji pays him no mind, quite content to just follow and listen to the conversation Nami and Jinbei are having.

The island is beautiful around them. Its blanketed in bright snow that crunches under their boots, and a stunning frozen lake spreads out on their left as they trudge up the slight incline towards the centre of the island. It’s all white and grey, not a single hint of greenery in sight. Even the trees are stripped bare, dark wood on show and ice droplets hang like hardened leaves and flowers. They chime in the wind, creating a sweet sound around them as they walk, although the bite of the cold still manages to sneak under their coats with each gust.

Sanji hunches in on himself, tugs his beanie down over his ears and flexes his fingers in his gloves. The scarf around his neck is slightly scratchy, a present from Robin when she’d first started knitting months ago, but the warmth of the fabric and the thought of Robin is worth each time the wool itches his skin.

“This is dumb,” Zoro mutters beside him after they’ve been walking for quite some time, and Sanji glances over to see his expression hasn’t changed. “Someone should’ve stayed with the ship.”

“Quit your whinging, Marimo.” Sanji kicks some snow at Zoro and grins at the glare he gets in return. “Nami is right. You would’ve been halfway out to sea by now.”

Snow is kicked right back at him, and Sanji splutters as some manages to flick against his cheeks. “I’m not that stupid,” Zoro snarls, “give me some credit, Twirly-brow.”

Sanji comes to a halt and can’t help himself as he reaches down to pick up a handful of snow. “Well if past history is any indication,” he hisses as he rolls the snow into a ball, “then you are that stupid.” He hurls the ball of snow and Zoro’s eyes widen before it hits him right in the face.

There’s a pause for a moment where they stare at one another, then Zoro lets out a roar and reaches for the snow. Sanji isn’t quite expecting the barrage of barely shaped balls, more like just an onslaught of snow, but he yelps as it starts to splatter against him.

“You bastard!” he yells before starting to return the action, hurling snow at Zoro, only just able to duck away as Zoro keeps up his own torrent. They pelt each other with vengeance, Sanji thankful his coat manages to absorb most the blows as Zoro throws with passion. They duck around trees, hammering each other over and over, and Sanji can’t help it as anger gives way to the much worse feeling of fun.

Nami and Jinbei disappear, clearly not interested in their little spat, but Sanji finds he doesn’t care as he focuses on hurling snow at Zoro. It’s satisfying, each hit filled with a little bit of what Sanji has been bottling up for the last few days.

That’s for snoring, that’s for pining his legs down, that’s for breathing on his ear for so long it gave him an earache, that’s for being so stupidly comfortable that Sanji didn’t want to leave in the morning…

That last one makes Sanji pause, giving Zoro a perfect opportunity. One gritty glob hits him in the face, splashing over his cheeks and soaking his fringe, and Sanji ducks behind a tree as his eyes start to sting from whatever other crap was in that particular handful of snow.

“Giving up, cook?” Zoro jeers out from somewhere behind the tree, and Sanji swears under his breath as he rubs at his eyes.

“You wish!”

Zoro snorts loudly but Sanji doesn’t move. There’s definitely dirt in his eyes now and it hurts like hell. He keeps blinking, eyesight a bit blurry, hoping it will go away if he blinks enough times.

“Cook?”

Sanji jumps as he hears Zoro right beside him, and he glances over to make out the stupid swordsman has come around the side of the tree. “I’m fine,” he snaps, not wanting Zoro to see him weak over something so stupid as a bit of dirt.

“Shit, did I-"

“I’m fine.” Sanji doesn’t mean to sound so terse as he finally manages to blink his eyesight into something sharper, but it’s only to see Zoro looking back at him as if Sanji had just bitten him. It’s not an expression he’s used to seeing on the swordsman, and a bit of guilt rises in his throat.

The expression doesn’t last long though, and Zoro’s face shutters back into his usual impassivity. “Whatever,” he mutters, and he turns on his heel, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m going back to the ship.”

Sanji opens his mouth to say something but finds nothing comes out as Zoro starts to march off. He’s going the wrong way, heading towards the lake instead of back down the incline, but Sanji doesn’t say a word. Let him wander off, he thinks a little bitterly, and he reaches up to rub his eyes again.

He should hurry on and find Nami. Once his eyes aren’t stinging as much, he’ll follow their footsteps further up the island. Zoro can get lost heading back to the Sunny if he wants to, Sanji won’t stop him, even if…

Sanji’s eyes snap open. Shit. He’ll be the one going after him later, won’t he?

He turns around, opening his mouth as he searches for the swordsman and spots him halfway out onto the lake. The idiot, he thinks as he starts to hurry after him.

“Oi! Marimo!” he calls out as he steps out onto the lake, the ice seemingly thick enough to hold him. “You’re going the wrong way!”

Zoro doesn’t respond, just throws a rude gesture over his shoulder, and Sanji feels anger smoulder in him as he keeps following the idiot. Stupid shitty swordsman, thinking he knows better.

He opens his mouth to call out again, but anything he’s about to say dies in his throat as a loud crack ricochets through the the air. Sanji stumbles to a halt, fear crawling into his throat and chest, abject horror on the tip of his tongue as a large crack forms on the lake’s surface in front of him. It’s spreading out, dangerously fast, and Sanji’s eyes widen as he sees it head straight for the swordsman.

And then Zoro disappears.

“Zoro!” Sanji screams as he watches Zoro tumble beneath the ice. He doesn’t stop to think as he races forward, sprinting over the cracking ice. It continues to creak and groan beneath him, but Sanji doesn’t care as he skids to a stop right beside the now Zoro-sized crater in the ice.

Zoro’s not there though, and Sanji stares at the blackened hole for a moment. “Zoro?” he calls out, dropping to his knees and sticking his hands into the freezing water, an involuntary gasp spilling from his lips at the sheer cold. There’s nothing that grips him back though, just a strong frigid current of water, and Sanji feels a lump start to form in his throat.

“Zoro!” he yells out again, desperate for a response. He contemplates diving in as he spins his arms around, searching for something, anything! “Zoro!”

A dull thumping reaches his ears.

It’s to his right, and Sanji pulls his hands out of the water as his wild eyes turn to follow the noise. It must be Zoro, it has to be, and Sanji crawls on his knees towards the thumping, his gloved hands brushing the thin layer of snow obscuring the see-through ice as he goes.

“Keep thumping!” he bellows as he inches along and scours the ice, looking for any hint of stupid green hair. “I’ll find you, keep thumping!”

Zoro does, wherever the hell he is, and Sanji has moved what he thinks is way too far away from the hole before he finally sees a flash of green. He brushes at the snow, scrubbing at the ice, thankful when Zoro’s face suddenly appears underneath him.

He’s banging at the ice, thrashing in the black water, his wide panicked eye not even appearing to see Sanji as he clearly tries to stop from being swept away by the strong current underneath and break the ice above him.

Sanji pulls his hand back and smacks it down on the ice. “Move down!” he shouts, hoping Zoro will see or hear him. “I’m going to break it!”

Whether Zoro hears him or not, Sanji doesn’t care as he staggers to his feet. With a cry, he brings his foot down hard on the ice, feeling it give way beneath his heel. It’s not enough though, and Sanji feels the glowing rush of adrenaline burn in his veins as he brings his leg up for another swing.

Hopefully Zoro will have noticed that, otherwise Sanji thinks he’s about to cave his head in trying to save him.

The third swing is what breaks the ice enough, and Sanji’s foot slams through the ice sheet with a sharp cracking noise. His leg keeps going, plunging into the freezing water and he barely manages to stay balanced on his other leg at the painful sting it brings. It doesn’t matter though, and he lets out a shaky breath as he feels fingers scrabbling to close around his calf.

With a yell, he lunges backwards, hitting the ice with a grunt as Zoro comes roaring out of the lake attached to his leg. He lands on the ice beside Sanji, gasping for breath, and Sanji takes one look at him before his head thunks back onto the ice and he covers his eyes with one of his wet arms.

Holy fuck, he thinks. Holy fuck.

He lies still, breathing heavily as he listens to the lake around him. The ominous creaking seems to have petered off, but Sanji’s terrified that any movement could cause more problems. He waits until he’s managed to get his breath back before he glances over to Zoro beside him… only to see the swordsman has curled up into a ball, his face a painfully blanched white and his lips bluing.

Sanji swears under his breath and shuffles over slowly, his teeth chattering in protest and his wet arms and leg are starting to fall numb. Zoro opens his eye partially, glazed and disorientated, but closes it just as his body starts to tremble violently.

Shivering, Sanji thinks. Shivering is good. It means his body is still fighting the cold.

When he gets to Zoro’s side, Sanji reaches out with a shaky hand to shove Zoro’s shoulder. “Oi, Marimo,” he hisses, wincing at the sound of Zoro’s teeth chattering as well, loud enough Sanji can nearly hear it echoing across the lake, “look at me. Marimo, look at me.”

It takes long moment for that grey eye to pop back open again, and even then it’s only a slither. It’s something though and Sanji lets out a shuddering breath.

“Okay,” he grits out through clenched teeth, trying to figure out what to do. “Okay. Let’s… let’s get you warm.”

How he’s going to do that is a mystery for a moment. He could get them back to the Sunny and Chopper, but Chopper is busy lopping down trees somewhere so the infirmary is going to be useless with Sanji’s limited medical knowledge. He has to get Zoro warm though, himself too if he’s honest, but lying around on this lake looking for some sign of help isn’t getting them anywhere.

Back to the Sunny it is. At least there he can start the warming process and find a Den Den Mushi to contact Usopp.

Sanji takes a steadying breath and tries to will his body into being still. It doesn’t work though and he grumbles his way into getting up onto his knees, going slow as he listens to the lake creak threatening beneath him. His left leg is completely numb, and he contemplates using diable jambe briefly to see if that would warm it up enough for use, but doesn’t want to run the risk of burning himself if he loses control let alone melt any of the precarious ice around them. Instead, he just settles back on his haunches and turns to Zoro.

“Alright, mosshead,” he grumbles as he leans over the swordsman. That grey eye is still open but he’s not entirely sure what Zoro can see with that glazed look. Sanji glances over him and winces when he notices just how little the swordsman was prepared for the weather in only his stupid jacket, his bare chest and offensive haramaki all that’s underneath. He’s going to have to carry him back to the Sunny, no doubt about that, but he can do a few things to jumpstart the warming process now.

Reluctantly, because he’s fucking freezing himself but at least he’s moving, Sanji pulls his beanie off and unwinds the scarf from his neck. The cold air assaults him immediately, turning his own shivering up a notch, but he ignores it in favour of jamming the beanie down over Zoro’s red ears and wrapping the scarf around his neck.

“Stupid M-Marimo-o,” Sanji grits out through clenched teeth. “Directionally challenged ba-astard.”

There’s a soft noise from Zoro in return, but Sanji tries not to focus on how weak it sounds. Even the cold can get to the strongest of them, he thinks bitterly, before he slowly rises to his feet.

The lake holds, and Sanji lets that reassure him as he crouches to fit his hands under Zoro’s knees and shoulders. Carefully, he lifts Zoro into his arms, wincing slightly as he has to adjust to the swordsman’s weight, but he figures tucking Zoro into his chest is going to be the better option for warming him on the trip back to the Sunny.

Again, the ice holds under their joined weight. He contemplates sky walking to avoid the lake altogether, but the power of even pushing off into it is too much for the ice and Sanji isn’t sure his numb leg will work very well. Very carefully, Sanji starts to pick his way back across the lake towards the closest shore, avoiding backtracking past the holes they’ve created. The Sunny shouldn’t be too far, Sanji recalling the way as he hits the tree line and begins to pick up the pace, forcing his numb leg to work as he builds himself up into a quick jog, Zoro’s swords banging against his thighs with every step.

Zoro doesn’t make a sound at all the jostling, his head settled on Sanji’s shoulder and breath uneven on Sanji’s bare neck. Freezing fingers wrap up in Sanji’s coat, brushing through the shirt he wears underneath, and Sanji’s breath catches in his throat at the feeling of Zoro touching him so gently.

Thankfully, the Sunny comes into sight soon, and Sanji doesn’t hesitate in rushing straight up the gangway to board. He heads straight up the stairs to the galley, intending on pushing straight into the infirmary, but he finds himself stumbling to a halt the moment he enters and spots the kitchen.

He doesn’t know what equipment is in the infirmary, but he can work with what he knows in the kitchen.

Instead, Sanji rounds the bench with Zoro still tucked in his arms until he’s standing in front of the oven. Carefully, he lowers the still shivering swordsman to the ground before he reaches up to flick the oven on to the hottest temperature, delighted when the internal light flicks on in recognition. It won’t take long to warm up, and in the mean time he turns to see Zoro is once again watching him from under a hooded eye where he’s leant against the bench.

“Okay,” Sanji says, more to himself than Zoro, trying to think of the next step. “Right.”

It doesn’t take long to gather the various blankets from the crew scattered around the lounging area of the galley, and Sanji hunches down beside Zoro with them all in hand. There’s even a few pillows, mostly Nami’s decorative ones, but Sanji manages to make them into a makeshift bed in front of the oven before turning back to Zoro.

“If you threaten me for doing this, I’ll gut you,” he hisses as he reaches for Zoro’s swords. He’s careful as he unties them from Zoro’s side, well aware that silver eye is watching him the entire time, and Sanji respectfully lays them out just above the pillows before turning back to Zoro.

Stripping him of his clothes heats Sanji’s cheeks up enough that they probably don’t need the oven but he sets his jaw and keeps going, only leaving Zoro in his damp underwear, not sure if he wants to cross that line. It’s easy after that to push the swordsman into the makeshift bed, nudging him over until Zoro is lying facing the oven, the warm glow reflecting onto his face. Zoro’s closed his eye again, but Sanji can see his cheeks have a little more colour and his lips are no longer as blue.

Thank whatever fucking gods are out there for that.

Part of him wants to just leave Zoro here, confident that he’ll be fine if Sanji disappears to get changed himself, but the way Zoro’s shivers are still wracking his body so violently has Sanji pause. Body heat, he remembers Chopper telling him that body heat is one of the best ways to treat hypothermia.

Dammit.

With shaking hands, Sanji sheds his gloves and jacket, pausing before shucking his wet pants as well, tossing it all on top of Zoro’s. He contemplates keeping his shirt on, but he remembers Chopper’s insistence on skin-to-skin contact. Decidedly more naked than he ever thought he would be with Zoro, Sanji slips into the makeshift bed behind the swordsman and tucks himself up against him.

“Speak of this to anyone,” Sanji growls as he wraps his arms around Zoro’s midriff and nestles his cold nose into the back of Zoro’s neck, his knees settling in behind Zoro’s own, “and I’ll also gut you.”

There’s a weak chuckle from Zoro, the first noise he’s made, and Zoro’s chest hums pleasantly against Sanji’s hands. “Sure thing, shit cook,” he croaks out, voice faint, and Sanji’s chest squeezes painfully.

They don’t say anything more, Zoro not capable and Sanji out of words. Instead they huddle together, the oven heating them through and the blankets providing a snug cocoon. Zoro starts to warm beneath Sanji’s touch, his breathing evening out into something softer, and it’s not long before Sanji finds the swordsman is asleep in his arms, his hands rising and falling reassuringly where they rest on Zoro’s chest.

Although, it’s not until Sanji feels his own eyelids starting to droop that he finally starts to relax. The adrenaline has long since worn off by now, leaving a bone deep exhaustion, and Sanji lets out a shuddering sigh as he curls further into Zoro’s warmth.

Stupid shitty swordsman, he decides as he rests his forehead on Zoro’s neck and lets his eyes slip shut.

…

Trying to explain their position when the crew comes back… well, it goes as well as expected.

Zoro doesn’t seem interested in clarifying just why the two of them are caught sleeping in the kitchen with barely any modesty between them as the crew surrounds them with wide eyes and overwhelming curiosity. Sanji, on the other hand, completely overcompensates, turning a horrendous red as he wraps himself up in one of the blankets, calling Zoro all the names under the sun and trying to explain just what the hell happened on the lake.

Luckily, Chopper spots their still soaked clothes where they’re piled together, and he flies into doctor mode immediately, demanding to see them in the infirmary.

Sanji goes, refusing to make eye contact and trying not to think about how it makes him look even more guilty, whereas Zoro just grumbles and pulls one of the blankets over his head, determined to block them out until Chopper ropes Franky into bodily hauling Zoro into the infirmary beside Sanji.

“Idiot,” Sanji hisses as Chopper fusses over them a little frantically. Zoro shrugs and yawns, not at all perturbed by their practically naked states.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Zoro grumbles, stretching out his arms with gross pops. “It was a great nap for me.”

Sanji kicks him in the shin, Zoro retaliates with a sharp punch to the thigh, and Chopper starts yelling.

It doesn’t get brought up again.

Thankfully, Franky did manage to load up a phenomenal amount of wood onto the Sunny. Sanji is over the moon when he walks into the mens quarters after they leave the winter island behind to see a new set of bunkbeds hanging on the other side of the room. He can’t help himself as he gathers some of Zoro’s bits that he’s left strewn over Sanji’s bunk and dumps them on one of the new ones, well pleased he’s able to scramble into bed alone that night.

However that traitorous part of him rears its head just before he manages to drift off, reminding him of warm arms and a solid chest, and Sanji finds himself staring at Zoro’s still form across the room for much longer than he wants to admit.

Somehow, it seems their newest crew member has managed to stay above all the hissed debates about bed sharing and accommodations from the last handful of days. Jinbei gives Sanji a small frown the next morning when he joins the crew in the galley, but Sanji ignores the look in favour of asking him how he likes his eggs.

“Sunny side-up and steamed,” Jinbei responds carefully, and Sanji just gives him a bright grin before throwing Luffy his third round of the raw mash of egg and mayonnaise he likes as their captain tries to drag the frying pan off the element with his bare fingers.

Jinbei’s odd looks don’t stop though, even after he lets out a delighted noise when Sanji plates his eggs for him, and Sanji forces himself not to notice that those odd looks are being aimed at Zoro too. He won’t be doing those mental calculations, not today, and instead he focuses on drizzling ketchup over Usopp’s coddled over-easy eggs, trying not to wrinkle his nose.

Robin also seems to notice, but it’s not until after breakfast when it’s just her, Jinbei, and Sanji left in the galley that she broaches the subject.

“Is something wrong, Jinbei?” she asks quietly, and Sanji glances up from where he’s chopping up fruit for after-breakfast smoothies for the ladies. Robin is leaning over the table, watching Jinbei with those beautiful eyes that seem to see everything.

Jinbei looks surprised when he glances at her but then his eyes flicker to Sanji briefly, causing Sanji to lower his gaze for just a moment, before he leans closer to Robin, clearly trying to not be overheard. “It’s ah… it’s nothing, only,” Jinbei pauses, his voice barely above a whisper and Sanji has to strain to hear him from where he stands in the kitchen. “Only… have Zoro and Sanji had a disagreement recently?”

Robin seems confused as she quirks her head to the side. “Why would you think that?”

Jinbei frowns. “They didn’t share a bed last night,” he says, “I wondered if perhaps there was a loverspat I missed?”

Sanji’s next slice misses the fruit, his knife burying itself into the cutting board with a dull thunk. His eyes grow wide and Robin laughs delightfully behind her hand.

“Oh Jinbei,” she says sweetly, smiling at him, “they’re not together.”

Jinbei’s mouth drops open in surprise. “R-really?” he stutters. “I… well, that’s a surprise. I only thought with the bed sharing and their appearance in the kitchen the other day…”

Sanji grits his teeth and yanks the knife out of the cutting board, trying not to listen to Jinbei as he angrily mashes the fruit in front of him. Poor Robin, she doesn’t need to hear this utter garbage. Her precious time doesn’t deserve to be taken up by the absolute fucking horseshit Jinbei is sprouting.

Thankfully, they’re interrupted by Luffy slamming through the door, a giant blob of fish in his arms as he cries out Sanji’s name. Sanji doesn’t use knives as weapons, but he considers hurling the one in his hand at Luffy when he drops a dead and frankly disgusting sunfish onto the countertop.

“Saaaanji!” Luffy bellows in the small space, and Sanji’s eye twitches. “Can we eat this?”

The things looks like it’s been dead for a while, who knows where Luffy scoured that from since there’s no hook in it’s mouth, and Sanji holds up his knife threatening, knowing his sudden anger is sourced from something wildly different even as he beings to roar at his captain to get it the fuck out of the kitchen.

Luffy’s mouth is wide and he’s clearly upset, but Sanji doesn’t have to deal with it for long as Jinbei and Robin hustle their captain from the room, one of Robin’s extra arms reaching back to haul the dead sunfish with them. Their exit from the galley is what Sanji needs, and the moment the door is closed, he braces his hands on the counter and leans forward to let out a miserable sigh.

Fucking Jinbei.

Unfortunately, the post-breakfast smoothies don’t come out for longer than Sanji anticipated, and the plans for the boys to have fresh plates of fruit for their morning snack becomes a pipe dream. Sanji hadn’t meant to pulverise the fruit in lieu of cutting it, but he hadn’t really been focusing on what he was doing once the others left the galley earlier.

Although, dragonfruit sobert is rather tasty if he says so himself, and he happily swans around the deck towards the ladies to deliver their treats, all smiles and laughs as they happily compliment his work. It makes him feel better, makes something that’s tight in his chest ease slightly.

But he feels Jinbei’s eyes following him after he’s delivered his sorbet to him, and Sanji is agitated as he stomps over to where Zoro is napping against the mast on the upper deck, the last to receive his snack. Perhaps kicking him is normal, but Sanji’s muttered insults and nearly throwing the sorbet over Zoro in the process of giving it to him is not.

Zoro stares at him with a frown, clearly confused by Sanji’s actions, but Sanji just grits his teeth and storms back to the galley.

It’s fine, he tells himself. It’s fine. It will die down in a few days and everything will go back to normal.

As it turns out, that’s a lie.

The days in the lead up to the next island drag. Sanji can’t bring himself to be around Zoro, yet somehow Zoro is everywhere. Nothing is different, Sanji doesn’t think so anyway, but its probably more that he’s hyperaware of where the swordsman is at all times.

Napping on deck or outside the galley, legs crossed and snores soft. Fishing with Luffy on the rails around the Sunny, helpfully showing Sanji their latest catch before dumping it in the aquarium. Sloping down the ladder into the galley smelling stupidly fresh after one of his rare showers, sometimes lingering near Sanji until he shoos him out. Working out up in the crows nest, the clinking sound of his weights ringing down to them below. Sleeping on his new bunk that’s right in Sanji’s fucking eyeshot.

He’s fucking everywhere, and Sanji nearly cries for joy again when Nami declares over dinner that the new island ahead of them is at least inhabited this time.

It’s not the largest port, but it’s decent enough and has a place for the Sunny to dock. The streets are busy, but the market is right on the shoreline, a decent view of the Sunny from no matter where they stand. It’s one of the few times they’ll all be able to disembark without leaving someone behind on watch.

Sanji is excited for the first time in days. He needs to stock up on their dwindling supplies and the lure of a new island’s food is always something that gets his blood rushing. New foods, new recipes, new people… Sanji loves it.

He contemplates asking Zoro to accompany him, his usual pack mule for restocking his stores on the Sunny, but a sudden lump forms in his throat that stops him outright. He finds he can’t, Jinbei’s words still whirling around in the back of his mind as they have for days now, so he finds himself turning to Chopper instead.

Who’s thrilled at Sanji has asked, even if he wiggles a bit much and calls Sanji a bastard outright, and Sanji finds himself avoiding Zoro’s frown where he stands on the other side of the deck. Chopper is excited to be useful though and more than happy to pull the sled Franky designed around the town. He needs some items to replenish the infirmary too, so the two of them set off together well before any of the others are ready to disembark the Sunny.

It’s not often that Sanji and Chopper shop together. More often than not, Chopper goes with Robin or Usopp, however Sanji finds their time together more than enjoyable. He can’t help but treat the little reindeer to a collection of sweets as they come across a few stalls in the main market area, especially when Chopper’s eyes light up at the sight of cotton candy cupcakes. He is the youngest of them all, and Sanji knows they all indulge him when they can.

They don’t travel fast around the markets, always keeping the Sunny in sight, but they do stumble across some of the others eventually. Robin and Franky are walking together, so entirely wrapped up in one another that they don’t seem to notice Sanji and Chopper as they wander past. Nami and Brook are arguing together at a stall that sells musical instruments, and Sanji isn’t entirely sure who’s winning the fight over the shiny new red guitar in Brook’s arms. Even Usopp is nearby, bartering rather vigorously with a shop vendor over what appears to be a handful of seeds.

Suspiciously absent are Luffy, Zoro, and Jinbei… but Sanji thinks he might be able to hazard a guess as to their whereabouts when the town bell starts to ring loudly.

The sudden rush of people heading towards what could be the town square is a little overwhelming, and Sanji pulls Chopper to the side of the street and watches as Nami, Brook, and Usopp join the crowd with Robin and Franky trailing after them. He exchanges a look with Chopper, and neither have to say a word to silently agree they don’t intend to follow suit.

Something is happening with the Straw Hats. It could be good or bad, could end with them being celebrated by the island or chased off it, but either way both Sanji and Chopper want a full galley and infirmary respectively to ensure they’re prepared for whatever the outcome might be.

In saying that, the sudden lack of people makes the shopping a bit harder. Sanji settles for picking up fruit and vegetables from stalls and leaving what berries he thinks they’re worth behind, adding them to the growing pile on the sled Chopper pulls. It’s a little disappointing not being able to exchange recipes with the vendors, but the loud noises originating from down towards the town square are a good enough reason for the desertion. He waits outside one shop that Chopper beetles into, leaning against the sled and puffing on a cigarette as he watches the Sunny, wondering what the others are up to before Chopper comes back out with various bags trailing behind him.

Together, they return to the docks with their goods. Chopper hauls them up the Sunny’s gangway onto the deck and Sanji carries Chopper’s bags into the infirmary before leaving him to unpack. He’s halfway through carrying his own in when he steps out the galley to see Chopper standing on the railing, looking back out at the island.

Sanji pauses to lean against the railing, eyeing up the large dust cloud that’s grown in front of what looks like a giant manor nestled in amongst all the mismatch of wooden and brick houses of the city. There’s no doubt in his mind that their nakama are there. If he listens hard enough, he can almost hear Luffy’s cackling.

“Do you think they’re okay?” Chopper asks, voice unsure. Sanji glances down, surprised to see how worried the little reindeer is. When Chopper turns wide eyes up to him, Sanji gives him a reassuring smile.

“Of course they are,” he says, reaching out to settle a hand on the back of Chopper’s neck. “You know how indestructible they all are. I don’t think anything can faze them these days.”

Chopper smiles back, just a little watery around the edges, but then Sanji reaches out to grab him under the arms and throw him up in the air. He’s seen Zoro do this countless times, and it makes Sanji’s heart sing when Chopper lets out that uncontrollable delighted giggle for him.

It’s not until later that the others return. Sanji has long since finished his inventory, the galley categorised within an inch of its life. He’s now settled on the deck of the Sunny, relaxing back on the grass with a lukewarm cup of tea in his lap, a cigarette dangling from his lips, and his book of recipes opened to a random page beside him. Chopper is perched on the swing just in front of him, lazily kicking himself in a circle as he sips on the straw of the chocolate milkshake Sanji made up for him, not at all as a bribe so he won’t get upset with Sanji smoking near him.

Peaceful, is how Sanji would define it, but it’s all interrupted by the sound of thundering footsteps up the gangway and his name being caterwauled by their ever delightful captain.

“Saaaanji!” Luffy bellows as he comes flying up onto the deck, the rest of the crew hot on his heels. “Choooopper!”

“Luffy!” Chopper calls back, abandoning his milkshake and swing as he flings himself off to jump to his captain. Luffy catches him, giggling stupidly as he twirls Chopper around in a dramatic circle, both of them looking well pleased.

“You missed out on so much fun,” Luffy declares, and Chopper’s eyes grow wide as saucers as he sinks down to get squished against Luffy’s chest. “There were some marines and then the townspeople arrived and Zoro used his swords to destroy the statue in the middle of the square and…”

Sanji tunes out his excited captain, instead glancing past him to see how the rest of his crew is fairing. They all look fine, dusty if anything. Only Zoro looks slightly worse for wear, but Sanji doubts that any of the blood on him is actually his own. He meets Sanji’s eyes, a wicked grin on his face as his bandana slips down over his open eye, and Sanji’s heart quickens as he rips his gaze away.

Usopp is just behind Luffy, and Sanji raises an eyebrow in question at him. He’s not entirely sure he wants to know what’s happened, but Usopp seems content to collapse down beside him, a small puff of dust floating into the air as he does so.

“Turns out the island was taken over and run by a stray cartel of ex-marines,” Usopp explains, and Sanji turns his head to the side to exhale a puff of smoke, his cigarette warm between his fingers. Usopp sounds exhausted, probably the reason he’s not embellishing his story like usual. “Luffy found them beating up villagers in the town square and took umbrage.”

As he should, Sanji thinks, and he flicks his gaze over to see Zoro has started using what’s left of his ruined shirt to wipe the blood off his face. It’s not attractive. It’s not.

“The mayor is very thankful for the liberation, accidental though it was,” Usopp continues, not noticing Sanji’s wandering attention. “He’s organised a great feast for us tonight at his manor. He’s invited us to stay and everything.”

A party and a night in a fancy manor? Sanji can think of worse ways to pass the evening.

It seems the crew is in agreement, and it doesn’t take long for Nami to shoo off all the boys to the bathhouse, only leaving Sanji and Chopper behind. Chopper is bouncing with excitement, Robin quite content to indulge him as he prattles away about what tonight could bring and the things he’s gathered from the markets, and Nami slumps down into the swing in front of Sanji.

“There’s a dress code,” she tells him, sounding like she’s preparing for battle. She turns a small smile his way, and Sanji’s heart nearly bursts as he returns it. “Reckon we’ll be able to con Franky into pants?”

“Absolutely not.”

Nami’s laugh is wonderful, and Sanji can’t help but look at her adoringly. She’ll be stunning tonight no doubt, as will Robin, and he can’t wait to see how they will dazzle them.

The boys, on the other hand, will be much harder. Nami assigns Sanji the awful duty of getting them all ready into something that at least entertains the thought of the black tie dress code, but Sanji already feels defeated when he and Chopper head to the mens quarters as they hear the racket of the others emerging from the bathhouse.

Chopper is easy enough. He’s still overwhelmed with excitement as Sanji rummages through his locker and pulls out the purple suit he’d worn on Whole Cake Island, accessorised with one of Sanji’s own black ties. Chopper calls him a bastard the whole time he winds it around the little reindeer’s neck, and his wiggling is only just under control by the time Sanji finishes dressing into his own burgundy suit from Wano, forgoing the gloves this time, before he begrudgingly turns to the rest of the group.

Admittedly, it could be worse. Brook looks presentable, although the neon pink of his feather boa clashes offensively with the gold top hat and blue suit. Franky, as predicted, doesn’t have pants on but he’s found a grey dress shirt that barely manages to stretch over his chest and a new pair of fancy sunglasses. Usopp is fine, wearing a suit not too far from what Sanji normally wears… in fact Sanji is sure it is one of his, and he’s pulled his hair back into a neat high ponytail. Jinbei is wearing a silky kimono that looks like it’s suitable for a warlord, and even Luffy has pulled on his pair of pants with the least amount of stains.

Zoro, on the other hand, is still standing with his towel hung obscenely low around his hips, not at all looking like he’s interested in getting changed any time soon.

Sanji pinches his nose between his thumb and forefinger, reminding himself that Nami wanted him to do this, and as the others file out of the men’s quarters, Luffy snagging one of Sanji’s suit jackets as he goes despite Sanji’s protests, he takes a deep breath before walking towards Zoro’s locker.

“Oi, cook,” Zoro mutters as Sanji kneels down to start digging through the mess Zoro calls a wardrobe, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“There’s a dress code, mosshead,” Sanji snaps back, wrinkling his nose as he pulls out another grey shirt that clearly used to be white. It even has spots of dried blood on the collar. “You can’t come if you’re going like that.”

He glances up, only to see Zoro is standing stupidly close and with a smug grin on his face. “What’s wrong with this?” he asks, gesturing at his very naked chest, and Sanji’s mouth does not run dry.

He forces himself to turn back to the locker, hoping Zoro will interpret the blush on his cheeks and ears as a flush of anger. “You’re such a fucking shithead,” he swears, growing more agitated as he realises there’s not a lot that’s black tie appropriate in Zoro’s wardrobe. It doesn’t actually surprise him, so he makes do as he pulls out a few items.

Zoro’s eyebrows go up as Sanji shoves a starchy white dress shirt his way, as well as a pair of black slacks that look like they’ve been worn barely even a handful of times. It means they’re clean at least, and Zoro takes them with distaste.

“Technically this party is for us,” Zoro points out as he holds the slacks like they’re going to bite him. “Shouldn’t we be able to wear what we want?”

Sanji glares at him. “A towel is not an actual piece of clothing, you barbarian.” Zoro glares and Sanji ignores him, turning to find his suit jacket where it’s hanging over the arm of the now repaired sofa. He spends a bit too much time fixing it, hearing rustling behind him and not at all prepared to watch Zoro get changed. Even he knows his limits.

When he does eventually turn around, it’s to see Zoro is at least mostly dressed as he sits on the edge of his bunk, tugging on his boots. The dress shirt is taunt over his shoulders, and he’s left it unbuttoned to nearly his naval. It’s completely indecent, and Sanji has to fight back the urge to stomp over and righten his shirt himself, especially because he genuinely doesn’t think he can trust himself to touch Zoro like that and not make a fool of himself.

Oh how the mighty have fallen, he thinks bitterly.

Zoro stands up and holds out his arms, staring at Sanji as if waiting for approval. Besides the appearance of too much of his chest, and the way those slacks are almost too tight over his thighs, he looks… fucking good.

“Acceptable,” Sanji mutters instead, and Zoro rolls his eye before shoving past him out to the others.

The walk to the manor doesn’t take long. Sanji gets distracted one too many times watching the way Nami and Robin’s hips sway in their dresses, Nami’s a short glimmering red that hugs all her curves and hangs low at the front, Robin in a long white gown that splits at her thigh and reveals the long length of her right leg. It’s wonderful to walk just behind them, and Sanji is quite thankful he’s able to focus on the lovely ladies instead of the pigheaded swordsman that stomps along behind him.

The party is in full swing by the time they hit the steps, and a man who Sanji assumes is the mayor welcomes them from the top with a bellow that could put even Luffy to shame. He’s clearly excited as they climb the steps towards him, and Luffy is immediately swept away by the man into his manor.

There’s a moments silence between the crew, then Nami sighs. “I’ll go,” she mutters before hurrying off after the other two.

They disperse quickly as soon as they step inside, straight into a large cavernous ballroom that stands two stories high and is filled with nearly the entire town. Robin and Franky glide off towards the dance floor where other couples are swaying, already in their own rhythm. Brook heads towards the musicians at the other end of the room, the shiny new red guitar Sanji had seen him and Nami arguing over gripped tightly in hand. Chopper and Usopp’s eyes are nearly bigger than their heads as they make a beeline for the large buffet table lining one of the walls, and Jinbei raises his hand in hello to someone he must recognise as he disappears into the crowd.

It leaves Sanji standing with Zoro, who looks completely disinterested in what’s going on around him, and Sanji elbows him roughly in the side, avoiding Zoro’s annoyed punch in response.

“You could at least try to pretend like you’re happy to be here,” Sanji mutters to him, and Zoro huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. It makes his pecs bulge through his opened shirt, and Sanji has to look away as his cheeks flush red.

“You know this isn’t my kind of thing, cook.”

Sanji rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says sarcastically, and he gives Zoro a withering glare. “Would you like directions to the nearest seedy bar to go rot in?”

Zoro frowns. “Why? There’s booze here,” he points out, and Sanji’s eyes narrow.

“You’re being deliberately obtuse, Marimo.”

Zoro looks confused and Sanji huffs in frustration, knowing he’s not going to get anywhere with this conversation. He could stand here forever exchanging jabs with the stupid swordsman, but that doesn’t sounds particularly appealing considering the party going on before him. Instead, he throws Zoro another reproachful look and decides to follow Chopper and Usopp to the buffet table.

He’s halted though by a hand on his wrist, and he turns around to see Zoro looking anywhere but at him.

“Would…” Zoro trails off, and if Sanji isn’t mistaken, his dark cheeks are a dusted with the slightest bit of red. “Would you consider a dance, cook?”

Sanji isn’t too sure what his reaction is, but his stomach swoops and his mouth drops open. “Can you dance?”

Zoro lets go of his wrist and reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. “How hard can it be?”

Honestly, weirdness and frustration aside, this is something that Sanji has to see. They all used to think that Zoro would have a natural grace when it came to things like dancing, considering his incredible agility with his swords, but they’d all been pleasantly delighted to see that Zoro owned two left feet.

Sanji grins, new decision made, suddenly interested in seeing where this one will lead. “Lead on then, Marimo.”

Zoro looks like he wasn’t expecting Sanji to say that, but a flash of determination crosses his face before he reaches out to snag Sanji’s elbow and tow him towards where Robin and Franky are amongst the other dancers. The song is a jaunty one, helped by Brook who seems to have managed to have taken control the band, and Sanji indulges Zoro’s caveman behaviour until they hit the floor.

They stand looking at each other, Sanji raising an eyebrow in challenge and failing to hide his smirk, then Zoro steps forward to take one of Sanji’s hands and rest the other on his hip.

Oh the feeling is lovely, Sanji is quite unable to deny that, but it’s such a fucking disaster.

Zoro has rhythm. He really is able to pick up a beat easily, but his ability to lead is shocking as he tries to manoeuvre the two of them into something resembling what Franky and Robin are doing. He can’t, trodding on Sanji’s toes and mistiming the twirls they’re supposed to follow, and Sanji can’t help but burst out laughing as he grips Zoro’s shoulder and holds on for dare life.

“Shut up, shit cook,” Zoro hisses in his ear, his cheeks now a blazing red. “It’s harder than it looks.”

“Yet you somehow manage to make it look harder again,” Sanji cackles, wincing as Zoro steps on his foot again, probably on purpose, and he tries to lead Zoro into the next twirl with a tug on his shoulder. Zoro misinterprets it and pulls Sanji back until they bang into another couple, getting filthy looks that only makes Sanji laugh harder.

To his credit, Zoro doesn’t give up, persevering despite his clear discomfort. Sanji supposes he won’t want to admit defeat, especially not to him, so he puts up with Zoro’s careless attempts to spin them around the dance floor and tries very hard not to read into anything. He’s not sure why Zoro asked him to dance, out of all the crew, but he’s quite delighted at being given a chance to laugh openly at Zoro and not have any form of retaliation.

That is until Zoro dips him at the end of the song, and Sanji’s fingers are white-knuckled tight on the collar of Zoro’s shirt as Zoro promptly tries to dump him on the ground.

“Asshole,” he mutters as Zoro snaps him back up, and that stupid smug look is back as Zoro grins at him.

He’s saved from another dance though, something he realises with a swallowed surprise that he’s a little upset about, by the arrival of some of the others. Chopper bounces over to launch into Zoro’s arms, Nami appears with a tight grip on Luffy not far behind, and Usopp slips up to hold out his hand in offer to Sanji. Sanji takes it with a grin, happy to dance with someone actually capable of doing so, and as Brook kickstarts off the next loud tune, the Straw Hat pirates carve out their own place in the middle of the dance floor.

Things become a bit of a blur after that. Sanji finds himself dancing with Usopp through a few songs, Nami for one glorious waltz, and even Luffy for a deeply horrific sway that just consists of Luffy wrapping his arms around Sanji and Zoro trying to pull him off. By the time he’s extracted from Luffy’s grip, he’s hungry enough to huddle in a corner with Chopper as they stuff copious amounts of different cheeses in their mouths, and then Jinbei offers him a rather large glass of red wine before engaging him in a wonderful conversation about fishmen diets and their favourite kinds of treats.

By the time they all stumble upstairs to the rooms the mayor has reserved for them, Sanji is red-cheeked and glowing, high off the night and more than happy to crash into bed.

Until Nami points him and Zoro towards the same room.

It’s only because of his undying love and respect for her that Sanji doesn’t have a complete and utter meltdown right then and there. Zoro doesn’t looked fazed, the bastard, and he disappears into the room Nami pointed out without any protest. Sanji stands outside it though, suit jacket slung over one arm and glass of red wine dangling from the fingertips of his other hand.

“Nami, darling,” he starts to say, well aware how pathetic he sounds, but she’s not interested in hearing it as she spins around to follow Robin into their own room.

Sanji stands in the corridor for a long moment, his heart thumping in his chest to an unfamiliar beat he’s trying so hard not to learn. He looks around at the other rooms in the corridor, wondering briefly if he might be able to convince Franky to swap so he can share with Usopp instead, but all that greets him is closed doors that have no intention on opening again.

Dammit.

Miserably, Sanji drags himself to the door Zoro disappeared behind, closing it with a definitive click behind him. He drops his glass of wine down onto the dresser just in the doorway, throws his suit jacket over a random armchair near one of the windows, and he glances around to see Zoro is already in the bed.

Of course. One bed. There are how many rooms in this bloody manor and he’s stuck sharing a solitary bed with Zoro.

Zoro’s dress shirt and slacks are in a pile on the ground beside his boots on his side of the bed, only a tuft of green hair poking out of the copious amount of blankets any sign of the swordsman, and Sanji swallows thickly as he tries not to think about just how little Zoro is probably wearing underneath all those covers.

The whole time he undresses, he ridicules himself. This isn’t what he should be thinking about. He doesn’t feel that way about Zoro, remember? He’s just some shitty swordsman with an aversion to showers and is so directionally challenged he nearly drowns in stupid lakes if he’s not watched carefully. How the hell can Sanji feel anything for an overgrown heap of moss?

Except when he lifts the covers to slip into the bed, he pauses when he sees Zoro curled up facing him, his one eye open and watching Sanji with a soft sleepiness, and Sanji feels his chest want to cave in.

“Why are you still awake, mosshead?” Sanji grumbles as he gets in, the coldness of the room disappearing as soon as the covers settle over him. Zoro radiates a fantastic amount of heat, and Sanji wants to slide across to get closer, only just managing to hold back that urge as he rolls on his side to face Zoro.

Zoro doesn’t respond, just watches Sanji with a small frown marring his brow. Sanji frowns back, tucking one hand under the pillow and his head while the other rests over his stomach, mirroring Zoro’s own pose.

“Marimo?”

“Why have you been so angry recently?” Zoro asks, voice loud in the quiet room. Sanji blinks in surprised, not expecting that of all things.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Zoro’s eye narrows. “You’ve been worse since the lake. Why?”

Sanji shifts his legs, accidentally bumping his knees into Zoro’s and jumping at the contact. Zoro doesn’t move an inch though, and Sanji can’t help but leave his legs where they are.

“I haven’t…” Sanji trails off, biting his lip and glancing away. He has, and it’s bad that Zoro has noticed. “I wouldn’t worry about it, mosshead.”

Silence. He risks looking back at Zoro only to see his brow is still furrowed. Sanji wants to reach across and smooth away the frown, run his fingers over Zoro’s cheeks and trace that sharp jawline.

“Thank you.”

Sanji’s thoughts grind to a halt, and he stares at Zoro who is suddenly looking anywhere but at Sanji. “What?” Sanji stutters, and Zoro shifts awkwardly.

“I didn’t say it then,” Zoro mutters, mostly under his breath. “But thank you. For the lake.”

Sanji has no words, well aware he should probably close his mouth. Zoro saying thank you? Practically unheard of. For him to do so… Sanji winces. He must’ve been acting like a real fucking asshole then.

“We’re nakama,” Sanji says simply. “It’s what we do.”

Zoro’s eye flicks back to him, and he holds Sanji’s gaze for a long moment. “Still.”

Sanji feels his cheeks starting to warm and he shoves at Zoro’s chest, the swordsman humouring him and rolling backwards with the movement. “Stop it,” Sanji says with a small laugh, meeting Zoro’s gaze as he pulls his hand back in an aborted attempt to cover his red cheeks. “You’re being embarrassing, Marimo.”

Zoro just huffs in return, but then the corner of his lips turn up into a small smile, and Sanji feels his heart thump that growing familiar beat as Zoro reshuffles, his knees bumping Sanji’s as his legs press closer, before he closes his eye.

Clearly the conversation is finished, and it doesn’t take long before Zoro’s soft snores fills the space between them. Sanji stays awake, eyes wide and the buzz of alcohol now only faint in his mind, decidedly unable to look away from the swordsman in front of him.

It’s only because of the knowledge Zoro is fast asleep that Sanji finally gives into the smallest of temptations. He reaches out, inch by careful inch, until his fingertips touch the small locks of green hair on Zoro’s forehead. Sanji pushes them back, hair soft under his fingers, before he trails the backs of his knuckles down the sharp curve of Zoro’s jaw.

Zoro sighs, his face pulling back into a small frown, and Sanji snatches his hand back, his heart thumping erratically.

But Zoro doesn’t wake… and it takes Sanji a long time to fall asleep.

…

Things… things are weird after that.

That small traitorous part of Sanji? It’s no longer small and Sanji hates to admit it’s not even traitorous anymore. He’s not willing to try defining whatever it is that he feels for Zoro yet, but he’s now no longer denying that something does exist there.

He’s apt at self-denial, but even he knows when he’s been defeated.

Zoro is a little different too. He’s not there when Sanji wakes in the morning at the manor, his side of the bed long since gone cold. It makes something unpleasant squirm in Sanji’s stomach, but he ignores it in favour of dressing and trudging out to find out where the others have gone.

Back to the Sunny, as it turns out, however Nami and Robin have waited patiently for him and bestow beautiful smiles when he gets to the bottom of the stairs. They’re mid-conversation with the mayor, and Sanji stifles a yawn behind his hand as he waits for them to finish before he happily escorts the lovely ladies back to the Sunny.

They talk about the previous night as they go, gushing about the party and the decadence. Sanji is happy to listen, adding his own thoughts when they ask him, mentioning the different foods and how beautiful he thought they both were. He thinks of dancing with Zoro, of their terribly awkward spin around the dance floor, and tries not to think about the warmth in his chest and the pleasant beat of his heart.

When they board the Sunny, most of the others are all out on deck playing some silly game that mainly involves Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper running in circles. Brook cheers them on where he seems to be waiting to join in, and Zoro watches from where he’s reclined back on the steps leading up to the galley.

As Sanji follows the ladies up the gangway, Zoro’s attention flicks to him, his gaze softening into something Sanji isn’t quite familiar with… and Sanji’s heartbeat picks up when a small smile quirks at Zoro’s lips.

Then there’s more. Over the next few weeks, each time Sanji’s meets Zoro’s gaze there’s that same smile waiting for him. At first it’s unnerving, the two of them never having had this kind of relationship before, but then slowly Sanji finds himself searching out Zoro just so he can see the way Zoro’s lips twitch, watch the way his grey eye crinkles just slightly, the small quirk of his head when Sanji smiles back.

It doesn’t go unnoticed. In a ship as small as this, any change in dynamic is instantly picked up on. Nothing else changes, they still fight and bicker and call each other every name under the sun… but Sanji won’t deny that there’s almost a sense of fondness to it now.

Of all the people to be brave enough approach him about it, Sanji is quite surprised that it’s Usopp.

He’s sitting under Nami’s mikan trees, a book about the history of the South Blue sea that Robin had recommend in his lap. He’s on his second cigarette, though he hasn’t lit it yet, and he’s so entirely distracted listening to the sound of Zoro lifting his weights in the crows nest above him that he doesn’t notice Usopp slumping down beside him.

“You know if you wanted to go up there,” Usopp says, making Sanji jump in surprise, nearly kicking Usopp in the head in retaliation, “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

Sanji stares at Usopp. He reaches up slowly and pulls the cigarette from his mouth, bringing it down to rest on top of the book in his lap. “And why would I want to do that?” he asks, but even he knows he deserves Usopp’s snort of derision.

“Don’t be obtuse, Sanji,” Usopp sighs, leaning back against the mikan train behind them, kicking his legs out alongside Sanji’s, his arms behind his head as he closes his eyes. “It doesn’t suit you.”

Sanji can’t help himself. He leans over and flicks Usopp’s long nose, drawing a splutter from the other man as lunges forward and swipes at Sanji.

“What was that for!”

Sanji shrugs. “You’re annoying.”

Usopp glares at him, and Sanji feels the childish urge to stick his tongue out at him. He doesn’t, but it’s still a near thing.

“Says you,” Usopp grumbles, punching Sanji’s arm as he returns to reclining against the mikan tree, and Sanji lets him get away with it this time. “Do you have any idea how much of a tizzy the crew is in about this new thing with you and Zoro?”

Sanji sucks in a rush of breath, and his fingers flex where they grip his book. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Usopp rolls his eyes. “Yes you do.” He pokes Sanji’s shin with his boot. “You’re many things, Sanji, but an idiot isn’t one of them.”

Unfortunately, it’s true, and Sanji returns his cigarette to his mouth just for something to chew on. He contemplates lighting it, but he’s grown used to not smoking around his crew members if he can help it. Chopper’s disappointed looks have started to get a little too much to handle these days and there’s only so many chocolate milkshakes he can ply their resident doctor with.

“Well, what of it?” Sanji asks, and he glances over to see Usopp watching him with a frown.

“Thats it?” Usopp’s eyes narrow. “You’re not going to deny it?”

Sanji frowns back at Usopp. “Do you want me to deny it?”

“Its not something I ever thought you would acknowledge if I’m being totally honest.”

Sanji sighs and leans back against the mikan tree too, his elbow jabbing Usopp in the side in the process. Usopp grunts, but Sanji ignores him. “We could go around and around in this conversation for hours if I did that,” he mutters, “and frankly I want whatever it is you’re hoping to achieve here to be over and done with as quickly as possible.”

Usopp doesn’t answer him for a moment, and Sanji doesn’t push. Maybe that is the end of it, but Usopp always skirts the subject he wants to discuss for a while before he can puck up the courage to ask what he really wants, so Sanji doesn’t take the silence as anything more than a delay towards the inevitable.

“What are you and Zoro?”

Sanji isn’t expecting that to be the question though, but it doesn’t shock him as much as he thought it would. “Nakama,” he says purposefully, and Usopp snorts.

“Wrong answer.”

Sanji growls. “It’s the only answer.”

“No.” Usopp’s voice is strong and determined, and Sanji glances over to see him looking unimpressed. “I think everyone on the crew knows that’s not true.”

Sanji pauses, chewing on his cigarette so much that he breaks through the filter and tastes tobacco in his mouth. He could, again, go around and around in circles with Usopp for a while longer. It would be better than the alternative of potentially spilling his guts.

But then Usopp wouldn’t be here trying to press the conversation, completely serious and sans his usual bullshit, if he wasn’t worried in some aspect.

“What do you want me to say, Usopp?” Sanji reaches up to brush his hand through his hair, giving it a short tug before turning back to his friend. “I don’t know what we are. I don’t know if we will ever be anything. All I know is that he keeps looking at me and I don’t want him to stop.”

Usopp is sympathetic, his eyes warm and bright. “Yeah?” he says, and there’s a small grin on his face. “I know what you mean.” He glances away briefly, his smile turning wistful. “With Kaya…  there’s never going to be anyone else who can look at me they way she does.”

It’s different though, Sanji thinks. Usopp’s in love with Kaya and her with him. Sanji and Zoro… he stops his thoughts before they can go any further.

It seems that Usopp’s conversation with him is all that’s needed for the crew to relax though. Undoubtedly, Usopp would’ve told them all some variation of what Sanji said, and Sanji tries not to be horrendously embarrassed at the thought that everyone may just know how he feels.

Especially when their actions start to change. It’s just small things, barely noticeable in the grand scheme of things. The only spare seat at the table is beside Zoro, the dishes roster seems to have Zoro’s name on it more often than not, Sanji seems to always take over watch from Zoro or vice versa… little things that can be chalked up to nothing if Sanji didn’t feel everyone staring at him each time he’s so much as a foot away from Zoro.

It’s a little suffocating. Sanji is aware of Zoro and aware of the crew and it messes with his head more than he’d ever care to admit. There are things he needs to think about and things he needs to work through. He loves his nakama, but their interference just makes things… harder to understand.

So the sighting of an enemy ship comes at the perfect time to let off some pent up steam.

None of them recognise the Jolly Roger that’s being flown. It looks strangely similar to Kaido’s Beast Pirates, a skull with horns but with a giant sword cutting through the skull. It’s intimidating, and Sanji leans against the railing outside the galley to listen to Robin and Brook below him run through their knowledge of known pirate crews to try determine who it is.

But all it takes is one look at who is standing at the bow of the ship as soon as it’s close enough to figure out exactly who it is.

“Strawhat!” Sheepshead’s voice screams out over the water, one of Kaido’s second officers who they thought was dead. Sanji himself had defeated him back on Zou, and his blood runs cold as he realises that this ship that is quickly approaching must be some faction of what remains of the Beast pirates after their bloody defeat on Wano.

Luffy doesn’t seem fazed, just frowns as he crosses his arms, head titled to the side. “Who’s that?” he asks blankly, managing to avoid Nami’s wild punch as she starts yelling at him.

Sanji glances down to see Chopper looks terrified, no doubt remembering their encounter with Sheepshead on Zou. It hadn’t been fun for any of them, and all out horrifying for their youngest crew mate. Zoro is beside him though, and he settles a reassuring hand on Chopper’s head as he murmurs some words of encouragement. Nearby, Brook looks equally worried and Sanji sighs as he pushes off the railing to descend the stairs, resting a hand on the skeleton’s shoulder when he reaches his side.

They’re going to be fine. It’s not like this is an unfamiliar foe.

Thankfully, Luffy seems to listen at least slightly to Nami’s warnings as he doesn’t fling himself off towards Sheepshead’s ship. He waits until they come alongside one another, standing firm with Sanji and Zoro stepping up to be his wings, and it’s Sheepshead who makes the first move.

He and his crew pour over to the Sunny. Most of them Sanji recognises as other members of the Beast pirates, but there are new faces too. It doesn’t matter. This fight should be easier than most, after all if Sanji could defeat Sheepshead alone then Luffy will have no problem defeating him himself.

However, it’s not the power difference that Sanji is bothered about. It’s the crazy bloodthirst that Sheepshead shows, the sheer joy he takes in pure violence and carnage. Sanji had struggled to protect Nami, Chopper, and Brook against him before… he worries for the rest of his crew now.

Luffy meets Sheepshead head on though, a wicked grin on their captain’s face as he charges forward to intercept the psychopath. Zoro has all three swords drawn, his bandana tied around his head and a gleam in his eye, and Sanji trusts he and Zoro will be enough to protect the crew. They’re not helpless, but the Beast pirates or whatever remnants of them they now face are still dangerous and predatory.

They would have the advantage if they remained on the Sunny, but Sanji and Zoro quickly push the Beast pirates back onto their own ship. The further from the crew, the better, and Sanji’s back slams up against Zoro’s many times as they lash out, Zoro with his swords and Sanji with his flaming legs.

It’s easy to fall into sync. Zoro ducks and Sanji lunges. Zoro slashes and Sanji dodges. Enemies fall around them in heaps. Clothes on fire, blood dripping from deep cuts. The Beast pirates charge and two thirds of the monster trio charge back.

Chaos. Nothing but chaos and the roaring swell of battle. Yelling and screaming. The cries of dying men. The howls of vengeance. Sanji keeps going, his legs moving non stop. His heel connects with skull after skull, cracking legs and breaking arms. Zoro is firm against his back, muscles rippling with every strike. Swords catch the light with each soaring arch they cut through the air. Sanji calls out to Zoro, hears his reply, and turns to his next foe.

They’re winning. That much is obvious as the bodies pile up, as the foes become less. Sanji counts less heads, less strikes. He feel his blood sing for the sweet feeling of victory.

And then it all goes wrong.

Sanji isn’t expecting Sheepshead. He thought Luffy had it covered, but one minute he’s slamming his heel into a Beast pirate’s back, and the next Sheepshead is right in front of him.

“Vinsmoke,” Sheepshead growls, eyes wild and face covered in blood. Sanji freezes, praying it’s not Luffy’s. “I’ve been waiting for this.”

He lunges, and Sanji quickly falls back onto the defensive. Sheepshead is feral. His attacks with his sword hold no rhythm, no sense. Sanji grits his teeth, breathing through his nose. He meets every one of Sheepshead’s blows, feels them jar down his legs. Sheepshead laughs each time. His cackle is chilling.

“Hold him!” Sheepshead suddenly roars, and Sanji feels someone coming up behind him. “All of you! On Vinsmoke!”

Hands come from nowhere, grabbing onto Sanji’s arms. They’re wrenched back violently, and Sanji roars as he tries to kick his captors. There’s too many of them though, too many hands, and Sanji is only just managing to escape their grip when Sheepshead steps up in front of him.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” Sheepshead sneers, and Sanji’s eyes barely have time to widen before Sheepshead pulls back his sword and rams it forward.

Straight into Sanji’s stomach.

Time comes to a halt, Sanji’s mouth opens in a silent cry, the hands holding him let go, and someone nearby screams.

Sheepshead pulls his sword out, a wet squelching noise accompanying it, and Sanji’s knees hit the deck. He feels hollow, weak, unimaginable pain as his hands touch his stomach only to come away wet and red. Everything stops working, his thoughts stilted and jumbled, and he slowly drags his head up to see Sheepshead standing over him, sword aloft and eyes crazed.

Until suddenly he’s not. One moment he’s there, the next Sheepshead is gone. Sanji blinks, wondering if he’s seeing things, but then he looks down to see Sheepshead’s body is lying in front of him… sans his head from his body.

“Sanji!”

Oh, he knows that voice. It shouldn’t be saying his name though, never says his name, and Sanji frowns as Zoro suddenly appears in front of him, wild and frantic.

“Sanji,” Zoro calls, and Sanji shakes his head. No, that’s not right. It sounds so wonderful but it’s not right. “Focus, come on. I need you to look at me.”

Sanji tries but he finds his head is suddenly hard to hold up. His stomach hurts. It really hurts. He wants to say something but his tongue is heavy and unmoving, the words catch in his throat and die away into nothing but choked noises.

“No,” Zoro is saying, and Sanji can’t quite concentrate on his voice, feels his body sagging into itself. “No, stay with me. I’m getting you to Chopper. Stay with me.”

He wants nothing more than to stay with Zoro. He tries to say so, but nothing comes out besides a dribble of blood on his lips. That’s not good, Sanji vaguely thinks, but his thoughts are shattered as a sudden bolt of pain shoots through him and he finds himself no longer kneeling on a ship deck.

He’s in Zoro’s arms. Wistfully, he wishes it was a different circumstances. Right now all he can focus on is the pain in his stomach, how it feels like his guts are trying to spill out from inside him, jostled about as Zoro begins to run.

Sanji doesn’t fall unconscious, which a part of him thinks is a shame. He wishes he could, even if it means not being able to remember the feeling of Zoro wrapped around him, and he squeezes his eyes shut tightly as he listens to Zoro telling him to keep breathing, stay alive, don’t fucking bleed out you stupid cook. Sanji’s trying, he really is, but each breath takes so much effort and hurts so damn much that not breathing just feels a lot easier.

“I swear,” Zoro hisses above him, and Sanji relaxes his head down onto Zoro’s shoulder with a strained grimace, “I’ll kill you if you fucking die.”

If the pain doesn’t get him first. It becomes worse when he hears Chopper’s terrified voice and when Zoro’s arms are replaced by a hard surface. He’s probably in the infirmary, Sanji can only wonder before all thoughts snap away as someone starts shouting and then hands are putting pressure on his wound.

That’s agonising. Sanji screams. He can’t help it, the primal guttural noise ripping from him unwillingly. It feels like the hands are inside him, crushing his organs and twisting everything into knots. He screams and screams until his throat runs hoarse and they die into whimpers. Pathetic, he thinks, but he can’t help it as the familiar feeling of a sharp needle starts to slice through him.

Knock me out, he wants to beg, but no words come and Sanji just stares at the bright white light above him, his eyesight flickering black, nausea rolling in the back of his throat. He can hear voices, Chopper’s and Nami’s and Zoro’s, but he doesn’t have the strength to call out to them, to plead with them. Instead he lies still, feeling every movement of the needle, tears burning his eyes as his mouth opens in weak silent cries.

And then just as soon as it all happened… it all stops.

Sanji doesn’t really know how long it’s been before he becomes aware of his surroundings. The blurry world around him starts to sharpen into focus, the bright white light replaced by something more mellow, the sound of beeping machines breaking through the fog. There’s something strapped to his face, an oxygen mask he realises vaguely, and he can feel the unpleasant presence of plastic cannulas in the crooks of both his arms. He feels heavy, the pain there but more manageable, and Sanji recognises the fuzzy feeling of a healthy dose of opioids.

Chopper’s work, no doubt, and Sanji lolls his head to the side in hopes of finding the little reindeer, wondering if it’s him who’s holding his hand in such a death grip.

It’s not though, and Sanji blinks languidly a few times as he stares at Zoro instead. Zoro, who’s staring right back, who looks pale and worried, his face streaked with blood, his bandana still tied around his head, his hold on Sanji’s hand tight enough that Sanji’s fingers feel numb beneath it.

“Cook,” Zoro breathes, and Sanji feels like he can’t breath.

“What…” he slurs, not entirely sure it’s even a fully formed word. His mouth is dry, his tongue is like cotton, and he can’t help the distressed look he sends Zoro’s way.

Zoro seems to understand, and he turns around to call out to someone nearby. Sanji isn’t at all surprised as Chopper appears in view, small and worried as he bustles up to Sanji’s bedside, his little hooves pressing down on Sanji’s shoulders.

“You’re going to be fine,” Chopper tells him, brow knitted together in worry. “The sword managed to miss everything important, but it’s going to take a while for you to heal.” Sanji opens his mouth, but Chopper shakes his head. “No, Sanji. You need to rest.” He pulls away, and Sanji sees a plastic syringe in his hand, a bright orange sedative sticker plastered to the side of it. “I’m going to make sure that you rest.”

Sanji finds he doesn’t want to protest. He’s ready for sleep, ready for the world to go black, and as Chopper fusses with the IV line attached to one of the cannulas in his arm, he turns his eyes back to Zoro.

Zoro, who carried him out, who stayed to help, who now holds his hand and watches him with a concern Sanji didn’t realise he was capable of.

Sanji’s heart thumps that growing familiar tune, and he grips Zoro’s fingers back as tightly as he can. He knows he’s weak, Zoro’s eye flickers to their joined hands and something grim passes over his face, but Sanji is too tired to care. He can feel the fog coming back again as Chopper’s sedative sets in, this time stronger than the disassociation he’d felt from when they were sewing him up, and he knows there’s not long before he passes out.

So he tugs on Zoro’s hand, too tired to bother pretending he wants anything else than Zoro right now. When Zoro frowns at the movement, Sanji takes a shallow breath before bringing their hands up until Zoro’s arm is resting over his hips.

“Cook?”

Sanji opens his mouth but nothing comes out. Instead, Sanji pulls at Zoro’s hand again, dragging his arm further until Zoro is leaning over him, and he tries to give him a meaningful look. Zoro just stares back, and Sanji starts to grow frustrated until a dawning realisation passes over Zoro’s face.

Zoro glances back at Chopper where he’s busy on the other side of the infirmary, and Sanji lets out a grunt as he tugs once more to draw Zoro’s attention back to him. The swordsman seems conflicted, but when Sanji starts to let go of his hand, Zoro furrows his brow with determination.

Carefully, so carefully that Sanji feels so very dangerously fragile, Zoro starts to move him to make space on the tiny bed. Sanji winces when Zoro pushes him over just a little, his stitches stretching unpleasantly at the movement, but Zoro murmurs what sounds like a small apology as he climbs up onto the bed and settles down on his side facing Sanji.

The oxygen mask is an annoying necessity, getting in the way as he turns his head to meet Zoro’s gaze. He’s still wearing that disgusting bandana and his face is covered in someone else’s blood… Sanji thinks he’s so decidedly and offensively Zoro that it makes his heart sing.

Zoro seems hesitant though, one hand tucked under his head and the other hovering over Sanji’s body, and Sanji decides for him as he reaches out to take the swordsman’s arm to once again lie it over his hips, feeling Zoro’s hand grip his waist in return.

After that, it’s a matter of Zoro arranging himself closer, pressing his chest against Sanji’s shoulder and bringing one of his knees up to rest gently on top of Sanji’s thigh. He’s as close as he can be without actually jostling Sanji’s wound, and Sanji tilts his head forward until he fits under Zoro’s chin, able to smell the familiar scent of steel and sweat through his mask.

Zoro’s hand squeezes Sanji’s waist. “Go to sleep, Curls,” Zoro murmurs, his chest humming pleasantly to Sanji’s ears, and Sanji lets out a shallow sigh as everything fades to black.

…

Healing is easy… its the recovery that’s the real hassle.

Sanji isn’t the worst on the crew when it comes to healing from injuries. That title rests solely on Zoro’s shoulders, something that doesn’t seem to faze the swordsman in any way. Chopper grows grey fur and they all go hoarse from yelling at the bastard, but it still doesn’t stop Zoro shucking off his bandages the first moment he gets.

Sanji, however, has a little more respect for the process. It annoys him, absolutely, but he understands that sometimes rest and quiet is needed if one wants to get better.

Doesn’t make it any less frustrating though.

He wakes up alone the next morning, vaguely wondering where Zoro has disappeared, but then it’s answered the moment Chopper notices him awake and promptly reams him out for being so foolish encouraging Zoro into his bed when he’s injured.

The wording leaves Sanji’s cheeks and ears a furious red, but he considers Chopper’s lecture accompanied by raving arms to be a sign that he’s going to be absolutely fine. Chopper wouldn’t be looking at him like he wants to knock him out in an incredibly painful way if he weren’t.

After Chopper’s grumpy examination where he dutifully confines Sanji to his bed for at least a few days, he trots out into the galley muttering about superhuman healing under his breath and the others start to trickle by to see him shortly after. Nami is first, her own rant nearly as spectacular as Chopper’s and Sanji accepts her punch to the arm for worrying her with only slightly gritted teeth. She does give him a brief hug that sends his heartbeat rocketing up though, and it takes a while to calm Chopper down after that particular spike.

Next is Luffy and Usopp, Luffy on a short leash as he bounces around the room, asking when Sanji will be able to cook him the seaking he caught that morning. Usopp catches him each time Luffy gets too close, looking long suffering but at least relieved to see Sanji sitting up and chatting back to them, and he shoves Luffy at Jinbei when the fishman pops his head through the door. Jinbei dutifully leads their captain away, and Usopp takes a moment to give Sanji his own short hug before scuttling out the door with red ears.

Franky and Brook swan in together, guitars in hand, and Sanji finds laughing hurts way too much when their caterwauling attracts Chopper’s ire. A shoddy sign banning any musical instruments in the infirmary is stuck to the door after they’re thrown out, and Robin gives it a confused look when she comes to sit with Sanji, the history book on the South Blue in her hand. She reads to him for a long time, sipping early grey tea with a pleasant honey aroma, until Sanji’s eyes grow heavy. It’s such a shame to fall asleep to Robin’s beautiful siren song, but sleep Sanji does.

When he wakes, it’s late at night, and Zoro is resting peacefully in the chair beside the bed, his arms draped over Sanji’s legs.

It doesn’t take much for Sanji to nudge him awake, and Zoro doesn’t hesitate this time into climbing into bed and pulling Sanji into his arms once more.

It happens each day. Zoro is gone by morning and Sanji spends his days curled up in the infirmary, the rest of crew keeping him company. Robin brings him tea and reads him books for hours. Usopp complains about Nami’s cooking and shows Sanji his latest inventions with childlike joy. Luffy is bodily hauled out by anyone nearby when he starts bringing Sanji any fish he’s caught and the stench seeps into the walls of the infirmary. Franky and Brook play horrendous duets outside the infirmary door while Chopper furiously taps his handmade sign.

At night, Zoro slips into the infirmary and settles in the chair, waiting quietly until Sanji shuffles across the bed and Zoro can fit in beside him. They don’t talk about it, but Sanji finds the nights much easier to bear with Zoro by his side.

He doesn’t always sleep. Sometimes he just lies facing Zoro, watching the heavy rise and fall of his chest and feeling his warm breath on his chin, the now familiar beat of his heart that only happens when he’s with Zoro thumping in his chest. He doesn’t touch, loathed to risk waking the swordsman up, but with his eyes he traces the angle of Zoro’s jaw, the lines on his forehead, the scar over his eye, the curves of the three earrings that hang from his ear, and the soft bow of his lips.

For a man with such sharp edges , Sanji sees a lot of sweeping softness in him.

And Sanji isn’t a fool. He knows he not alone in all these feelings he still just can’t put a name too, knows that Zoro must feel something too. It’s been there for such a long time, caught between their volatile relationship as the cook and swordsman, as the wings of the Future Pirate King, as two parts of the monster trio, and the protectors of the Straw Hat pirates.

Those feelings have been there for so long wrapped up as so many other things… and if Sanji is brutally honest with himself? He isn’t sure if they can exist as something else entirely.

So Zoro lies peacefully beside him and Sanji draws maps of his face and nothing is said.

They never have been good at words.

When Sanji is finally allowed to leave the infirmary, Chopper hovering by his side even as Sanji walks with ease, the crew is ecstatic where they wait dotted around the galley. There’s cheers and whistles that are way too excited for the moment, and Sanji finds himself trapped as Luffy winds his way around him before resting his chin on Sanji’s shoulder, giggling in his ear and ignoring Chopper as he pelts Luffy’s body with his hooves.

“Thank the heavens,” Usopp sighs dramatically from where he’s draped over the couch, back of his hand pressed to his forehead, “finally someone to rescue us from Nami’s-”

He doesn’t finish his sentence as Nami throws Robin’s book at him.

Sanji can’t help but smile, his chest warm and full as he watches his crew descend into squabbling over whether Nami’s food was good or not, all attention on him slipping away just as quickly as it had arrived. Luffy keeps laughing in Sanji’s ear, his hat mussing Sanji’s hair with every movement, and Sanji’s eyes wander to where Zoro leans near the door, clearly not interested in getting involved.

His gaze meets Sanji’s though, and there’s that small smile once again.

Then Nami is throwing her hands up and Sanji can’t help coming to her rescue, barely restraining himself from kicking the ungrateful lot that dare insult her capability as a chef. They’re already roughed up anyway, Usopp, Franky, and Brook, and Nami really had looked spectacular wielding a decorative pillow as a weapon.

“We just missed Sanji’s food, that’s all,” Usopp whines, his eyes watering as he holds his bent nose, “it’s nice to have him back.”

“A feast then!” Luffy cheers from Sanji’s back, cutting off any of Nami’s responses. “To celebrate!”

A cheer goes up, overly loud and overly ridiculous. Sanji rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless. He knows Luffy is really just thinking about food, after all Sanji can admit in his head that Nami’s skills don’t exactly lie in the kitchen, but it brings a warm glow to know that his crew have missed his food this much. He’s proud of his cooking, and to see it appreciated? It’s a chef’s dream.

Somehow though, the idea of the feast gets bigger and bigger by the hour until Sanji is leaning on the upper deck railing, cigarette in hand despite Chopper’s warnings, watching Franky and Jinbei piling what looks like discarded scraps of wood and pruned branches from Nami’s mikan trees into a small bonfire in the middle of the lawn.

He feels someone come to stand beside him, and he doesn’t need to look to know it’s Zoro.

“Reckon they’ll light the ship on fire doing that?”

Sanji smirks, blows out a stream of smoke. “I guess we’ll find out.”

Zoro’s shoulder nudges against his, their arms pressed against one another as Zoro leans against the railing beside him. Silently, they watch their crew together, and Sanji smiles at Zoro’s laugh when Luffy appears with a flaming stick from the workshops down below, running towards the bonfire with a screaming Usopp on his heels.

By evening, a table that Sanji is sure they didn’t have before is outside on the lawn, the food Sanji spent the afternoon preparing spread out on top in a delectable feast. Chopper had insisted on carrying most of it, recruiting Brook and Robin to help despite Sanji’s protests. A gentle warning that he’s still healing from Robin was all Sanji needed to back down though, but he’d still stubborning brought out the large honey glazed ham that Jinbei had surprisingly requested.

Not that it lasts long with this locust of a crew. There’s a toast and a cheer, Luffy warbling through something Nami whispers in his ear, and everyone clashes their wooden tankards together, spilling wine and sake and juice all over the lawn. No one cares as the food is shared out, as Luffy is distracted by Zoro until everyone’s plates are full, and when their captain descends on the honey glazed ham… Sanji isn’t surprised to see not even the bone it was on is left behind.

The bonfire is lit, music starts to play, and Sanji rests on the swing as his crew dance and sing. He’s too tired to join them, content instead to sit and watch, to drink Zoro’s stolen sake as he rests his head against the rope of the swing.

He can’t help but follow Zoro the most. He looks good like this, free and fun. It’s not often that any of them get to see Zoro relax, always the pillar of their crew, their own private Atlas, but when he does…

Sanji sighs. When he does, Zoro is the most captivating person he’s ever seen.

His laugh is booming, breaking out across the deck as he lets Luffy and Usopp corral him into a terrible line dance that doesn’t at all match the tempo of Brook’s guitar rift. His bright smile is endearing when Chopper swings into his arms, cheering loudly as Zoro stomps around the bonfire with the little reindeer hanging upside down from his shoulders. His singing is terrible and pitchy when Franky starts up a bawdy sea shanty, and his two left feet tread all over Nami’s toes as they laugh their way through a quick two step that neither of them really know the movements of.

Sanji feels his heart beat beat beat that familiar tune and thinks… he might just know what it means.

He’s not left alone for long, although Sanji is surprised when Luffy appears beside him, sinking down onto the lawn and dropping his head to rest on Sanji’s thigh. He’s sans his hat, and Sanji can’t help himself as he raises his hand to rest on top of Luffy’s spiky hair.

“Alright, captain?” he asks quietly, and Luffy leans into his touch, humming softly but not responding.

It’s fine, Sanji thinks. Luffy is never really one for casual conversation, so he leaves his hand nestled amongst Luffy’s hair and goes back to resting his head against the rope of the swing. They sit together quietly, watching their crew, and Sanji feels a warm contentment settle over his shoulders.

“We missed you.”

Luffy’s words aren’t unexpected. “I didn’t leave,” Sanji says.

“No.” Luffy tilts his head back to look at Sanji, eyes wide and full of emotions Sanji doesn’t pretend to understand. Luffy has always felt things different to them. “But we missed you all the same.”

Sanji smiles down at him. “I missed you all too.”

Luffy blinks a couple of times before he smiles back, wide and bright. “Zoro missed you the most.” He clicks his tongue. “But I think you already know that.”

All words stick in Sanji’s throat, and his mouth hangs open just the slightest. They haven’t exactly been… subtle, but Sanji didn’t realise that his captain was aware of what may or may not be happening between Zoro and himself.

Luffy doesn’t stop smiling though. “That’s good,” he says, turning slightly to drop his chin on Sanji’s knee, still looking up at him. “That Zoro missed you.” His fingers come up to pinch Sanji’s thigh teasingly. “It means you can stop being so silly now.”

“Luffy… I don’t-”

Luffy huffs and pinches him again, this time hard enough to make Sanji smack at his hand. “Stop being silly, Sanji,” Luffy grumbles. He reaches up and taps Sanji’s forehead, nose scrunched up in distaste. “Stop overthinking.”

“I’m not-” Sanji starts to protest, but Luffy is clearly done with the conversation as he turns back around, already getting to his feet. He pauses for a moment, reaching back to ruffle Sanji’s hair, before he’s bouncing off across the lawn towards where Jinbei is patiently stoking the bonfire.

Sanji is left speechless, his heart in his throat and his eyes wide, and he can’t help but feel like the world has just tilted beneath his feet.

Maybe… maybe Luffy is right?

Of course, Sanji doesn’t get the opportunity to think on it more as the evening starts to wind down. It’s a clear beautiful night, the wind barely present and the stars are bright, so it’s not surprising when Usopp and Chopper start to bring out blankets and pillows pilfered from the galley and sleeping quarters.

It’s not the first night they’ve slept outside, many a party ending in such from over the years, and Sanji is hauled to his feet by Nami as the crew spread out the blankets and pillows around the slowly dying embers of the bonfire. Brook is still playing, having turned to his violin and the soft sound of a quieter slow version of Bink’s Sake carries over the deck as they all settle down together.

Sanji isn’t surprised when he finds himself pulled down to sit between Zoro and Luffy, his captain’s hands gentle but strong as they wrap around his arm. Sanji can’t help but roll his eyes, unimpressed at the lack of subtlety, but the moment he finds himself pressed against Zoro’s side… it just ceases to matter.

Zoro meets his gaze, and Sanji admires him in the warm glow of the bonfire, the way it curves over his cheeks and makes his grey eye shine. He looks softer like this, young like he’s supposed to be, and Sanji smiles softly at him.

Zoro smiles back, and Sanji sighs as he drops his head down to rest on Zoro’s shoulder.

“You know,” he murmurs quietly, his voice only for Zoro’s ears as the sounds of their crew mates around them drifts away, the words coming surprisingly easy, “we should probably actually talk about this one day.”

Zoro scarred hand moves to rest on Sanji’s knee, covering it completely. “Probably,” he says.

“But not yet?”

Zoro hums. “Not yet.”

Sanji nods, the movement jarring, and then Zoro suddenly pulls away from him, lying back down on the blanket under them. Sanji is left sitting alone, blinking around at the rest of his crew mates in their various stages of sleep, and he wonders if perhaps he did something wrong.

But then there’s a tug on the back of his shirt, and he turns around to see it’s Zoro. His eyebrows are raised, as if wondering what the hell Sanji is doing, and Sanji’s eyes widen as Zoro pulls his arm back only to hold it out in invitation.

Sanji doesn’t hesitate, weary of his stitches as he turns to lie down in the space between Zoro and Luffy. His captain grunts as Sanji accidentally elbows him, but Sanji doesn’t care as he shuffles closer to Zoro, waiting patiently for a moment as Zoro rolls onto his side.

It’s much easier here than on the infirmary bed, and Zoro pillows his head on his bent arm and Sanji curls in close until he’s tucked under Zoro’s chin, cheek resting on Zoro’s bicep, their chests pressed together and their legs entwining. Zoro’s other arm comes up to wrap around Sanji’s waist, his hand resting on the small of Sanji’s back, and Sanji twists one hand up into the collar of Zoro’s shirt as the other settles on Zoro’s hip.

It’s the closest they’ve ever been, and Sanji breaths against Zoro’s collarbone as Zoro presses his mouth to Sanji’s hair.

“Soon though,” Zoro murmurs, and Sanji frowns for just a moment.

But then he smiles, presses his nose to the hollow of Zoro’s throat, and closes his eyes.

…

Despite the excitement in their lives… the moment Sanji realises he’s in love with Zoro is rather anticlimactic.

They’re on another island, an autumn one with orange and yellow leaves that fall from branches and dot the paths leading through the large forest populating most of it. The sun is starting to set over the trees, the wind is cold, the ground is muddy, and Sanji is ready for the warmth of the Sunny.

Beside him, Zoro looks terrible, twigs in his hair and dirt smeared all over his cheeks. His coat is ripped at the back and his white shirt is decidedly not white nor really a shirt any longer.

Sanji had rolled his eyes at the sheer state of the man when he’d barrelled out of the forest right on Luffy’s heels, their captain not much better off with his own torn clothing and muddy appearance. Luffy had only given Sanji a brief grin though before he’d catapulted himself past, yahooing about something Sanji didn’t deign to listen too, but Zoro had trailed to a stop at the sight of Sanji.

“You look ridiculous,” Sanji had muttered, hands firmly in his pockets and eyebrows raised. Zoro had just grinned back, and Sanji had rolled his eyes before jerking his head down the path that lead back to the Sunny, his task of finding the missing two now completed. “Come on, Marimo. Let’s get back.”

Now they walk side by side, their shoulders and arms brushing, and Sanji can’t help his heart thumping with each touch. Each touch draws his attention, each gentle gaze of the backs of their hands sending a thrill through him. He can think of nothing else as he peeks at Zoro from the corner of his eyes, wondering what he’s thinking.

He doesn’t ask, but he can’t help but prod at the swordsman anyway. “I don’t know how you do it, Marimo,” he sighs and he leans into Zoro, savouring the warmth he always seems to find in him. “Getting lost to this degree is really quite award worthy.”

Zoro snorts. “I wasn’t lost,” he says, pushing back against Sanji, his solid weight a comfort Sanji has long since grown used to.

He laughs. “Sure, mosshead.” Sanji can’t help but reach down to wrap a hand around Zoro’s elbow. “So if I left you alone right now, you’ll make it back to the Sunny before we depart in the morning?”

Zoro throws him a reproachful look that is dulled by the streaks of mud on his cheeks and the leaf dangling down  over his scarred eye from a twig twisted up in his hair. Sanji’s lips twitch and he uses his hand on Zoro’s elbow to draw the swordsman to a halt, reaching up to gently untangle the offending piece of greenery.

“Hmm,” Sanji hums, holding up the twig in front of Zoro, twirling it between his fingers, “now you’re starting to grow, mossy. We’ll have to plant you up by Nami’s mikans when we get back.”

Zoro tugs the twig from Sanji’s hand and tosses it aside. “Whatever, Twirls,” Zoro grumps, looking most put out and Sanji can’t help his grin as he feels a sudden wave of bravery.

“And look,” he says as he raises his hands to rub his thumbs over the dirt on Zoro’s cheeks, “you even brought some soil to help. How thoughtful!”

Zoro harrumphs and Sanji can’t help his laugh as he cups Zoro’s cheeks. He means to just wipe the dirt from the swordsman’s face but he pauses when he feels the heat beneath his palms, and he feels his stomach swoop when he sees the dusting of red over the bridge of Zoro’s nose.

They haven’t talked about this… not yet. Soon, Zoro had said, and ever since then they’d been playing this game. Getting close and then pulling away, over and over again until it has become second nature. Sanji looks at the sweet blush on Zoro’s cheeks and thinks this is when he should be stepping back and laughing it off, maybe throwing an insult Zoro’s way and getting one in return, and then they’ll slink back to the Sunny until the next time.

But something is different this time. Something makes Sanji pause, whether its the look on Zoro’s face or the sheer bravery beating its way louder and louder in Sanji’s chest. Whatever it is, it makes the moment come to a sudden standstill and Sanji’s breath hitches in his throat.

He doesn’t let go of Zoro, instead he slowly moves his hands until he’s cupping Zoro’s jaw and can feel the warmth of Zoro’s breath on his palms when he opens his mouth just slightly in surprise.

Sanji meets Zoro’s gaze, whatever words he was maybe going to say catching on the tip of his tongue, and his heart picks up that familiar beat as the world pauses around them. Sanji feels a thudding in his chest and a humming beneath his skin, and he brushes his thumb over Zoro’s cheekbone and…

And then Zoro kisses him.

It’s chaste and brief, a simple press of lips that has Sanji gasping softly. Zoro’s hands come to grip Sanji’s waist, and he pulls him across the small distance between them until they’re pressed chest to chest, Sanji’s knees bumping into Zoro’s own. Zoro hums beneath his lips, and Sanji can’t help but chase him when he pulls back.

He doesn’t go far though, just enough until he can meets Sanji’s eyes. Sanji sees the small question there, sees what Zoro is wondering, and Sanji answers him with a small smile.

“Zoro,” he breathes, his hands sliding down to rest against Zoro’s chest, and Zoro’s come up to grip Sanji’s wrists with scarred fingers. Sanji’s bursting with things to say, with the feelings that’ve been there for so long mixing with the thumping of his heart.

“Sanji,” Zoro murmurs, voice quiet, and Sanji lets out a small breathless laugh, his own name sitting pleasantly on his shoulders. It’s different this time, it feels so wonderful and so right.

“I…” He knows what he’s feeling, knows what he wants to say, what he wants Zoro to know it all as his fingers tremble on Zoro’s chest… but the words just don’t quite come. “Zoro… is this it?”

Zoro frowns, tilts his head the the side. “Is this what?”

Sanji feels a flush on his cheeks. “Is this us talking about it?”

Zoro’s laugh is surprising, and Sanji raises his eyebrows as Zoro throws his head back, his shoulders shaking with the action. Sanji smacks a hand against Zoro’s chest in annoyance, but Zoro catches it as Sanji goes to hit him again and pulls Sanji’s hand up to press a kiss to the backs of Sanji’s knuckles.

“Yeah, cook,” he says, his expression shifting into something a little more serious. “This is it.”

It’s not a perfect confession, and it’s not at all what Sanji thought he’d ever do. There’s no grandiose gestures or lines of deep poetry, no dramatic speeches or sugary sweet words. It’s a little stilted and a little awkward, and Sanji meets Zoro’s gaze with a small frown.

But then Zoro smiles, that smile that has only ever just been for Sanji, and Sanji starts to smile back before…

Oh. Oh.

That’s what it’s meant. That’s what it’s meant all this time.

Stop being silly, Sanji.

He has. He’s been so thick this entire time, and he nearly kicks himself at the realisation. Zoro’s smile, the one just for him, has been a confession and declaration all along, right from the very moment Sanji walked up the gangway of the Sunny and saw it for the first time.

He shakes his head, quite unable to look away from that perfect smile before he leans forward to place a soft kiss to the corner of Zoro’s mouth, lingering enough that he feels the sharp intake of breath beneath his lips.

When he pulls back, Zoro lets out a pleased hum and he links their fingers together, letting their hands drop into the space between them. Sanji’s heart thumps and his chest swells, and he thinks that, well, it might not be the perfect confession but it is theirs.

Then Zoro, with twigs in his hair and dirt smeared on his cheeks, turns around and starts to tug them in a direction decidedly not headed for the Sunny.

And Sanji?

Sanji lets him.

…

Fin.