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[seasaltandsmoke]

Good booze, huh?

Sanji's eyes narrowed. "Not what I asked." And while the other man didn't seem like the kind to be easily intimidated he still folded under Sanji's accusing gaze, telling him all he needed to know. The explanation that followed was as good as any other to him — in the way that it didn't excuse him going hungry, nothing did.

"You don't strike me as a man who is afraid of a few Marines..." He mused quietly, and the expression he was given in turn only told him he was right. "So, you kept out of trouble for our sake rather than your own or that of your men?" His head tilted while he once again tried to place the man's face. One would think he'd remember if he ever saw him before, the scars over his eyes alone surely were prominent enough to pick him out in a crowd and this paired with the red hair did make a faint bell ring in the back of his mind. However, once again, it didn't really matter, so he didn't think to pursue the thought for long. In the end, it was all the same to Sanji.

"...I appreciate your effort of not making any of the other customers any more trigger happy than they already are, but next time, don't let that keep you from eating."

He took another drag from his cigarette and tapped the ashes into the sea. "The Baratie is neutral ground. The old man and I agree on that even when some of the staff don't." He shrugged. "Pirates, Marines, rich, poor... I don't care. If you're hungry, I'll feed you." No one would go hungry if he could do anything about it. He breathed out in a long low stream of smoke before he stubbed the bud out in an old ashtray placed near the railing.

Then, he gestured for the other man to follow him. "Come on then." He drawled, shoving his hands into his pockets to ward them against the chilly night air. "Bring the booze, or what's left. I'll make you something that goes well with it."

Sanji raised his hand to put his cogarette back to his mouth, taking another drag from it. His other hand burried into his pocket, thumb following the line of one edge of his lighter shoved within. He leaned more firmly against the railing behind him, a smile curling his lips at the evident surprise that met him when the other man processed what he just told him.

"Please, stop it with the flattery" he said dryly at the high praise, a teasing lilt to his voice. "You'll make me blush." But it was said in a way that suggested Sanji well knew his worth. He was the best cook on this ship. Hell, the best goddamn cook in the East Blue even, and he took pride in that, and in being part of the Baratie. Still, it was nice to be recognized for his abilities.

He huffed out another bit of smoke into the evening air, the wind picking up around them. And despite their easy conversation Sanji could not help but weigh all the man was telling him carefully. Marines and pirates, he learned over the course of his life, were equally dangerous, piss off the wrong guy and it didn't matter who his blade was sworn to they still cut the same.

His men. He said. So he stumbled upon the captain of those pirates. Maybe that was were the sense that he knew him came from. There was likely a wanted poster with his name on it somewhere. Sanji may have passed one of them when the Baratie was at shore at some point in the past.

Something occured to him then, unrelated to whether or not the man had a bounty on his head.

"What about you?" He asked, when the man spoke about his crew eating and drinking their fill, but when he spoke of the quality of their food it seemed more like a musing than first hand experience. A curled brow raised at him. He had a sneaking suspicion. "Have you had anything other than booze tonight?"

[seasaltandsmoke]

"You know what?" He barks back. "Fine!" And then without thinking twice about it he shoves Zoro off of himself and stands. Previous concern is replaced entirely by annoyance, and if there isn't as much force behind the action as there usually would be, it has nothing to do with how little Zoro seems to be able to resist that push, or the fact that he looks like a stern breeze could knock him over. Sanji has never seen his this weak before, not since Mihawk cut him down at the Baratie that is — and isn't that a memory he'd like to repress. But of course Zoro's signature scowl is still in place, of course Zoro's damned stubborness would prevail no matter how weak or injured he is.

Sanji grits his teeth, at least his problem from before has begun to resolve itself the moment Zoro started being contrary. "Get your ass up before I kick it back to the ship for namecalling a lovely lady."

He curses under his breath as he turns away from Zoro, hands shaky and as he fiddles with bis lighter, desperate for a smoke now that his morning has begun in the worst way possible. He hates when his friends get injured, hates when he's left helpless in light of it, and yes he wouldn't admit it to Zoro under threat of death, but he does consider him a friend. So, of course he still feels guilty when Zoro practically stumbles to his feet, of course he is reminded violently of why the swordsman is even in this state in the first place.

Sanji hisses when he burns himself while trying to light his cigarette, serves him right for worrying about someone who clearly couldn't care less about his concerns. It's always been this way with Zoro, how idiotic of him to assume it would ever be different. It's not like he can ever admit to any of this, not like he would ever bring up the fact that Zoro and his stubbornness, his conviction is one of the reasons Sanji is even part of the Strawhats in the first place!

But it's not like that would change anything. Zoro doesn't care anyway. So, Sanji bites back his worries and instead goes back to what is familiar.

"And while we're at it, give me my jacket back!"

Sanji shifts uncomfortably as Zoro leans back, pulling his hands away from his skin. He clears his throat in embarrassment when he realizes his hands had snuck beneath Zoro's clothes to seek out his warmth in his sleep and he is grateful that the swordsman does not actively pull attention to it, even though he feels his ears burning hotly when he thinks he sees Zoro's gaze stray down to the tent in his pants.

It's natural. He is half prepared to screech at him. A warm solid body pressed so close against a hot-blooded guy like him, what is a man to do?!

But instead, his attention diverts when Zoro thanks him and then his eyes widen as he sees Zoro sway even while seated, his hair no longer the only green thing about him. Sanji catches his wrist, his skin concerningly cold to the touch. He holds him steady, relieved to find that Zoro's gaze seems to clear a little as he focuses on him, face beginning to look slightly less pale. But it also serves to make Sanji realize that he still feels tired, too. Even his muscles ache in a way they haven't in a long time. Maybe the fight took more out of him than he realized as well.

He pushes the thought aside, it's clear that Zoro is well worse off than he is, no matter the headache that is forming behind his eyes.

"Take it easy. We still don't know what she did to you..." Then, Zoro's words furrow his brows further. "Let me take a look," he urges, sitting up and already moving his hand up to where he remembers Zoro being hit, but the swordsman turns his shoulder out of his reach and Sanji's face pulls into a snarl.

Of course he'd be difficult about this. He has never not been difficult about anything since the first time Sanji spoke to him. "I'm trying to help you, idiot."

[seasaltandsmoke]

Sanji raised his hand to put his cogarette back to his mouth, taking another drag from it. His other hand burried into his pocket, thumb following the line of one edge of his lighter shoved within. He leaned more firmly against the railing behind him, a smile curling his lips at the evident surprise that met him when the other man processed what he just told him.

"Please, stop it with the flattery" he said dryly at the high praise, a teasing lilt to his voice. "You'll make me blush." But it was said in a way that suggested Sanji well knew his worth. He was the best cook on this ship. Hell, the best goddamn cook in the East Blue even, and he took pride in that, and in being part of the Baratie. Still, it was nice to be recognized for his abilities.

He huffed out another bit of smoke into the evening air, the wind picking up around them. And despite their easy conversation Sanji could not help but weigh all the man was telling him carefully. Marines and pirates, he learned over the course of his life, were equally dangerous, piss off the wrong guy and it didn't matter who his blade was sworn to they still cut the same.

His men. He said. So he stumbled upon the captain of those pirates. Maybe that was were the sense that he knew him came from. There was likely a wanted poster with his name on it somewhere. Sanji may have passed one of them when the Baratie was at shore at some point in the past.

Something occured to him then, unrelated to whether or not the man had a bounty on his head.

"What about you?" He asked, when the man spoke about his crew eating and drinking their fill, but when he spoke of the quality of their food it seemed more like a musing than first hand experience. A curled brow raised at him. He had a sneaking suspicion. "Have you had anything other than booze tonight?"

When the stranger declined his offer by indicating the booze his own gaze briefly flickered down to the bottle, recognizing the label. He hummed, then shrugged. "Good choice." He commented around the cigarette in his mouth as he pocketed the pack and the lighter.

Not necessarily the beverage he would have picked, as he was more of a red wine kind of man himself, but he could see the appeal. He considered it for a moment. Given the chance he would pair it with some spicy octopus slices, maybe some fried rice, too, and for dessert—

Sanji stopped himself before his mind could go on a tangent on which dishes he'd pair with any given ingredient or drink he came across like it tended to do and instead turned around to lean against the railing. Usually not inclined to spare a man another look he still allowed his attention to firmly settle on this one.

With the man having turned his head towards him Sanji was now able to properly study his appearance, took in the lines of his face, the small curl of his lips as he regarded him, the prominent scars across his eyes and yet the surprisingly kind gaze that met him despite them.

Something close to recognition tugged at the back of his mind; as if he'd seen him before, somewhere, sometime. Judging by appearance alone he was part of the pirate crew that came bursting in earlier, maybe he had seen him then after all, and yet there was something about him, something suggesting there was far more to him than met the eye.

Sanji took a slow drag from his cigarette as he contemplated this, holding the smoke in, feeling the burn of it before gently letting it out on his next breath, angling his head away as to not give the stranger a face full of smoke. He may have disturbed the man's solitude without asking, but he wasn't that rude.

Then, he smiled at the question, lowering his hand to tap off some ash. "I wonder—" he said in a low drawl, then chuckled quietly. "—If not as one of the employees, do I strike you more as a Marine or as new money?"

These days there were just these two categories after all, not counting the very rare occasion of actual pirates docking at the Baratie as they were few and far between, ever since some higher ranked marines became part of the regulars at least. Sanji was neither of the former of course, and he sure as hell wasn't a pirate either, although the assumption would have been a fair one given the number of outlaws and misfits on the staff, the latter were more fitting descriptions for him in a way, but he was genuinely curious about how people perceived him.

Sanji tilted his chin towards the sky, took in the stars, absentmindedly mapped out the few constellations he knew. The few he remembered from when his mother explained them to him all those years ago— He shut that thought down quick.

The cigarette lit up brighter when he put it back to his lips. He closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling deeply, allowing his shoulders to unwind. Another day spent here. Another day of him doing the same things over and over with no change on the horizon. With no step taken towards his dream...

Another tap against the cigarette. Some more ash fell to the wooden deck. "I'm a cook. The Sous Chef of this place to be exact." He answered the question at last, looking at him again. In part to gauge his reaction, and also because he was still struggling to get a proper read on the guy.

[seasaltandsmoke]

Sanji shifts uncomfortably as Zoro leans back, pulling his hands away from his skin. He clears his throat in embarrassment when he realizes his hands had snuck beneath Zoro's clothes to seek out his warmth in his sleep and he is grateful that the swordsman does not actively pull attention to it, even though he feels his ears burning hotly when he thinks he sees Zoro's gaze stray down to the tent in his pants.

It's natural. He is half prepared to screech at him. A warm solid body pressed so close against a hot-blooded guy like him, what is a man to do?!

But instead, his attention diverts when Zoro thanks him and then his eyes widen as he sees Zoro sway even while seated, his hair no longer the only green thing about him. Sanji catches his wrist, his skin concerningly cold to the touch. He holds him steady, relieved to find that Zoro's gaze seems to clear a little as he focuses on him, face beginning to look slightly less pale. But it also serves to make Sanji realize that he still feels tired, too. Even his muscles ache in a way they haven't in a long time. Maybe the fight took more out of him than he realized as well.

He pushes the thought aside, it's clear that Zoro is well worse off than he is, no matter the headache that is forming behind his eyes.

"Take it easy. We still don't know what she did to you..." Then, Zoro's words furrow his brows further. "Let me take a look," he urges, sitting up and already moving his hand up to where he remembers Zoro being hit, but the swordsman turns his shoulder out of his reach and Sanji's face pulls into a snarl.

Of course he'd be difficult about this. He has never not been difficult about anything since the first time Sanji spoke to him. "I'm trying to help you, idiot."

Despite the circumstances, this night's sleep is the best he's had in years. Yes, his back may be aching from the couch being well worn and the space being too cramped to even just fit him comfortably, let alone another person on top of him. But it's exactly this weight and warmth pinning him down that has Sanji want to burry closer, to hold on tighter.

It doesn't even matter that one of the springs digs awkwardly into his lower back, ever since Drum Island he struggled to find a suitable position for sleeping because of the thing Doctor Kureha used to fix his spine.

But it's nothing the comfort of a warm solid body cannot ease. Sanji burries closer, nuzzling into thuck soft strands of hair and inhales deeply, taking in the familiar scent of steel and a tinge of soap Sanji could swear is very similar to his own...

He furrows his brows, hands moving along warm skin, feeling strong muscles beneath his fingertips and fabric soft from many washes shifting against the back of his hands. His eyes blink open, the early morningight making him squint in the barely illuminated room.

It takes him far too long to assess where he is. His sleep-hazed mind too hazy still to reconstruct all that happened before and providing an answer to why the hell he's curled up on a couch with someone rather than tucked away back at the ship. It doesn't make a lick of sense to him that the head of hair he looks down on right now bears a very familiar shade of green, and it makes even less sense to him that they're completely entangled.

He notes the callouses on the warm hands spanning his waist, becomes more and more aware of the well-trained muscles underneath his own fingertips, absentmindedly digging his nails into otherwise unmarked flesh. He hisses when Zoro shifts, causing friction to a part of him he'd rather not be aware of right now.

Shit.

"Shit."

It's nature. It's biology. It means nothing, and yet he knows the swordsman will never let him live this down if he notices Sanji's ...predicament. Sanji tries to move, the comfort Zoro's proximity brought him before crumbling away to make way for red-faced embarrassment.

If he just shuffkes away now Zoro wouldn't notice. The man is dead to the world whenever he is sleeping, except Sanji is certain he just pretends to not wake easily most the time to get a rise out of him when he is calling him for dinner and this mossheaded fool is too damn lazy to get up right away—

Dark eyes open and Sanji is trapped, pinned underneath the bleary, softened gaze of the man that he has rarely seen display anything other than annoyance towards him.

Sanji?

His name falling so softly from Zoro's parted lips should not result in a fullbody shiver on his part and it definitely should not cause him to gape at him in awe, lips falling open with a low breath.

It takes a long moment for Sanji to gather his wits about him, far longer than it should. He has half a mind to throw Zoro off of him with one shifting of his thighs, but the memories of the fight enter his mind and he grits his teeth against the urge to immediately bring distance between them.

"How are you feeling?" He asks instead, clearing his throat when sleep makes it sound lower and raspier than usual. He hopes beyond hope that Zoro doesn't notice the way his blush tints his cheeks and ears. "That– That attack did a real number on you."

[seasaltandsmoke]

When the stranger declined his offer by indicating the booze his own gaze briefly flickered down to the bottle, recognizing the label. He hummed, then shrugged. "Good choice." He commented around the cigarette in his mouth as he pocketed the pack and the lighter.

Not necessarily the beverage he would have picked, as he was more of a red wine kind of man himself, but he could see the appeal. He considered it for a moment. Given the chance he would pair it with some spicy octopus slices, maybe some fried rice, too, and for dessert—

Sanji stopped himself before his mind could go on a tangent on which dishes he'd pair with any given ingredient or drink he came across like it tended to do and instead turned around to lean against the railing. Usually not inclined to spare a man another look he still allowed his attention to firmly settle on this one.

With the man having turned his head towards him Sanji was now able to properly study his appearance, took in the lines of his face, the small curl of his lips as he regarded him, the prominent scars across his eyes and yet the surprisingly kind gaze that met him despite them.

Something close to recognition tugged at the back of his mind; as if he'd seen him before, somewhere, sometime. Judging by appearance alone he was part of the pirate crew that came bursting in earlier, maybe he had seen him then after all, and yet there was something about him, something suggesting there was far more to him than met the eye.

Sanji took a slow drag from his cigarette as he contemplated this, holding the smoke in, feeling the burn of it before gently letting it out on his next breath, angling his head away as to not give the stranger a face full of smoke. He may have disturbed the man's solitude without asking, but he wasn't that rude.

Then, he smiled at the question, lowering his hand to tap off some ash. "I wonder—" he said in a low drawl, then chuckled quietly. "—If not as one of the employees, do I strike you more as a Marine or as new money?"

These days there were just these two categories after all, not counting the very rare occasion of actual pirates docking at the Baratie as they were few and far between, ever since some higher ranked marines became part of the regulars at least. Sanji was neither of the former of course, and he sure as hell wasn't a pirate either, although the assumption would have been a fair one given the number of outlaws and misfits on the staff, the latter were more fitting descriptions for him in a way, but he was genuinely curious about how people perceived him.

Sanji tilted his chin towards the sky, took in the stars, absentmindedly mapped out the few constellations he knew. The few he remembered from when his mother explained them to him all those years ago— He shut that thought down quick.

The cigarette lit up brighter when he put it back to his lips. He closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling deeply, allowing his shoulders to unwind. Another day spent here. Another day of him doing the same things over and over with no change on the horizon. With no step taken towards his dream...

Another tap against the cigarette. Some more ash fell to the wooden deck. "I'm a cook. The Sous Chef of this place to be exact." He answered the question at last, looking at him again. In part to gauge his reaction, and also because he was still struggling to get a proper read on the guy.

@seaoftales started following

It's been a while since the Baratie last welcomed customers so clearly set on having a good time.

Most days and nights were quiet. Wealthy marines, old couples and men who tried to impress a lady with good drink and better food and yet ever ordering the same three goddamn dishes were the only people finding their way here of late. It had been going on for so long at this point that one could say Sanji got used to these highbrow people over the more rowdy customers. But admittedly, he was getting bored and him being bored always resulted in arguments, with the other cooks, and, of course, with Zeff and it usually ended with Sanji stirring up trouble with the customers by flirting with the ladies and pissing off the men in their company — all of which quickly got old if it was the only way of entertainment.

So, it was a welcome surprise when the next ship they came across had a Jolly Roger on proud display and the crew was loud and boisterous. Sanji was grinning to himself at the flabbergasted expressions painted across the faces of the other customers the moment the pirates came barging in demanding food and yelling on the top of their lungs for ale and wine.

Of course the kitchen was the usual hustle and bustle each day no matter which kind of customers came in through the door, but when the tables quickly filled with these new patrons all the cooks turned it up to eleven and Sanji's mood only brightened further when orders for several outlandish dishes came rushing in. This was what he was good at, this was what he loved.

—

It was well into the evening when he managed to steal away for a smoke after all the people were fed. Satisfied and convinced of a job well done Sanji left the closing of the kitchen to Patty and Carne. He threw his apron on one of the hooks by the door and pulled on his jacket on top his shirt, already rummaging around in his pockets for his lighter and cigarettes as he made his way out on deck...

... Only to find that his usual hiding spot was already occupied by someone else. Sanji raised one of his curled brows as he stared at the redheaded man. He didn't recognize him, but then again the man wasn't facing his way, but rather looking out at the waves moving lazily below and mot importantly, Sanji hadn't exactly spent much time outside the kitchen up to this point.

Still, he hesitated for a moment as he took in the man's form, trying to get a read on him and failing. He absentmindedly fidgeted with the cigarette in his hand, considering whether or not he should find another place to unwind. But eventually he decided it didn't matter, and who knew? Maybe the guy made for good company.

Only one way to find out.

So, with a reasonable distance between them, he stepped up beside the man and gave him a nod in greeting. A quiet click sounded from his lighter as he lit his smoke. The warm light of the small flame contrasting briefly with the cold of the moonlight overlooking them before it flickered out again as he snapped it shut.

Sanji breathed out low, a puff of smoke emitting from his mouth and dispersing into the night air. He could already feel his shoulders unwind. "Want a smoke?" He asked, offering out the pack of cigarettes.

[seasaltandsmoke]

@seaoftales started following

It's been a while since the Baratie last welcomed customers so clearly set on having a good time.

Most days and nights were quiet. Wealthy marines, old couples and men who tried to impress a lady with good drink and better food and yet ever ordering the same three goddamn dishes were the only people finding their way here of late. It had been going on for so long at this point that one could say Sanji got used to these highbrow people over the more rowdy customers. But admittedly, he was getting bored and him being bored always resulted in arguments, with the other cooks, and, of course, with Zeff and it usually ended with Sanji stirring up trouble with the customers by flirting with the ladies and pissing off the men in their company — all of which quickly got old if it was the only way of entertainment.

So, it was a welcome surprise when the next ship they came across had a Jolly Roger on proud display and the crew was loud and boisterous. Sanji was grinning to himself at the flabbergasted expressions painted across the faces of the other customers the moment the pirates came barging in demanding food and yelling on the top of their lungs for ale and wine.

Of course the kitchen was the usual hustle and bustle each day no matter which kind of customers came in through the door, but when the tables quickly filled with these new patrons all the cooks turned it up to eleven and Sanji's mood only brightened further when orders for several outlandish dishes came rushing in. This was what he was good at, this was what he loved.

—

It was well into the evening when he managed to steal away for a smoke after all the people were fed. Satisfied and convinced of a job well done Sanji left the closing of the kitchen to Patty and Carne. He threw his apron on one of the hooks by the door and pulled on his jacket on top his shirt, already rummaging around in his pockets for his lighter and cigarettes as he made his way out on deck...

... Only to find that his usual hiding spot was already occupied by someone else. Sanji raised one of his curled brows as he stared at the redheaded man. He didn't recognize him, but then again the man wasn't facing his way, but rather looking out at the waves moving lazily below and mot importantly, Sanji hadn't exactly spent much time outside the kitchen up to this point.

Still, he hesitated for a moment as he took in the man's form, trying to get a read on him and failing. He absentmindedly fidgeted with the cigarette in his hand, considering whether or not he should find another place to unwind. But eventually he decided it didn't matter, and who knew? Maybe the guy made for good company.

Only one way to find out.

So, with a reasonable distance between them, he stepped up beside the man and gave him a nod in greeting. A quiet click sounded from his lighter as he lit his smoke. The warm light of the small flame contrasting briefly with the cold of the moonlight overlooking them before it flickered out again as he snapped it shut.

Sanji breathed out low, a puff of smoke emitting from his mouth and dispersing into the night air. He could already feel his shoulders unwind. "Want a smoke?" He asked, offering out the pack of cigarettes.

[seasaltandsmoke]

[seasaltandsmoke]

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[seasaltandsmoke]

Despite the circumstances, this night's sleep is the best he's had in years. Yes, his back may be aching from the couch being well worn and the space being too cramped to even just fit him comfortably, let alone another person on top of him. But it's exactly this weight and warmth pinning him down that has Sanji want to burry closer, to hold on tighter.

It doesn't even matter that one of the springs digs awkwardly into his lower back, ever since Drum Island he struggled to find a suitable position for sleeping because of the thing Doctor Kureha used to fix his spine.

But it's nothing the comfort of a warm solid body cannot ease. Sanji burries closer, nuzzling into thuck soft strands of hair and inhales deeply, taking in the familiar scent of steel and a tinge of soap Sanji could swear is very similar to his own...

He furrows his brows, hands moving along warm skin, feeling strong muscles beneath his fingertips and fabric soft from many washes shifting against the back of his hands. His eyes blink open, the early morningight making him squint in the barely illuminated room.

It takes him far too long to assess where he is. His sleep-hazed mind too hazy still to reconstruct all that happened before and providing an answer to why the hell he's curled up on a couch with someone rather than tucked away back at the ship. It doesn't make a lick of sense to him that the head of hair he looks down on right now bears a very familiar shade of green, and it makes even less sense to him that they're completely entangled.

He notes the callouses on the warm hands spanning his waist, becomes more and more aware of the well-trained muscles underneath his own fingertips, absentmindedly digging his nails into otherwise unmarked flesh. He hisses when Zoro shifts, causing friction to a part of him he'd rather not be aware of right now.

Shit.

"Shit."

It's nature. It's biology. It means nothing, and yet he knows the swordsman will never let him live this down if he notices Sanji's ...predicament. Sanji tries to move, the comfort Zoro's proximity brought him before crumbling away to make way for red-faced embarrassment.

If he just shuffkes away now Zoro wouldn't notice. The man is dead to the world whenever he is sleeping, except Sanji is certain he just pretends to not wake easily most the time to get a rise out of him when he is calling him for dinner and this mossheaded fool is too damn lazy to get up right away—

Dark eyes open and Sanji is trapped, pinned underneath the bleary, softened gaze of the man that he has rarely seen display anything other than annoyance towards him.

Sanji?

His name falling so softly from Zoro's parted lips should not result in a fullbody shiver on his part and it definitely should not cause him to gape at him in awe, lips falling open with a low breath.

It takes a long moment for Sanji to gather his wits about him, far longer than it should. He has half a mind to throw Zoro off of him with one shifting of his thighs, but the memories of the fight enter his mind and he grits his teeth against the urge to immediately bring distance between them.

"How are you feeling?" He asks instead, clearing his throat when sleep makes it sound lower and raspier than usual. He hopes beyond hope that Zoro doesn't notice the way his blush tints his cheeks and ears. "That– That attack did a real number on you."

This may just be the most sureal interaction the two of them have had to this date. It's clear that whatever the beautiful lady from earlier did to Zoro not only weakened him but clearly screwed with his mind as well. There is no other sensible explanation for the way he snuggles up to Sanji now.

"What the hell are you—" The cook hisses at him when an arm winds around him and he finds himself held in place against the swordsman and it's only the fact that Zoro's movements are sluggish and his voice growing ever more quiet that Sanji doesn't reward him with a firm kick to the chest. He tenses, shoulders locking up and eyes widening when Zoro tilts his head up and presses close to his throat. Sanji blinks, a hand coming up to Zoro's shoulder to push him away, but then his crewmate just goes limp against him, his entire weight bearing down and Sanji instinctively holds him up when he threatens to slip off the couch.

Zoro's arm digs uncomfortably into his side, Sanji's back is angled weirdly, the position he is in becoming more and more uncomfortable with every passing moment. There is also the fact Zoro is still shivering, his body temperature oddly cold, even the skin of his face now pressed into the crook of Sanji's neck feels worryingly cold and so, Sanji stays put for now.

It lasts a whole ten minutes before he curses and tries to move, a twinge in his side causing him to try and shuffle out from under Zoro. It results in the swordsman shifting more firmly against him, his other arm winding around Sanji too, his face falling to his chest.

Sanji flushes in embarrassment, looking up at the worn ceiling of their hideout and wondering where he has gone wrong to be stuck here with Zoro rather than with a beautiful woman, but then that would have meant a lady taking that hit for him, and it is already bad enough that Zoro found it necessary to jump to protect him. He shivers at the thought of Nami or Robin having to go through something similar because of him. He'd never forgive himself...

He looks down at Zoro, guilt once again tightening his throat. The hand that fell to Zoro's shoulder to push him away now settles lightly over the curve of it. "Idiot," he whispers. Then grits his teeth at how softly it sounds.

He doesn't allow himself to think too closely about what he does next, reasons it away with not wanting to spend the whole night with his body in an awkward angle and risk waking up with his entire back in knots, but he rearranges them until they are pressed together on the couch a little more comfortably, Zoro's legs between his own, Sanji's arms drapped a little awkwardly over his back.

At least he's warming up now. Sanji thinks, as he adjusts his jacket around the swordsman's shoulders once more and admittedly, feeling his weight against him, as well as being able to monitor the slow rise and fall of his chest is... almost comforting in a way.

"You owe me for this," he says quietly, head sinking back against the armrest of the couch. Zoro, of course, doesn't answer him, but Sanji feels him shuffle ever so much closer, his green hair tickling the underside of his chin. His eyes close as well, the fading adrenaline making way for exhaustion. He still fights it, knowing he should stay awake in case someone comes across their hiding place, but eventually he is lulled to sleep by Zoro's returning warmth and the slow rhythm of his breathing.

And if he holds him a little closer just before slipping into unconsciousness, nobody needs to know.

[seasaltandsmoke]

verses

will be expanded when I think of new stuff.

"canon"

I'm aware the anime isn't considered canon in a lot of instances but it is the medium I am most familiar with and have the easiest access to, so I am mostly basing my characterization of Sanji on what we see in the anime. There will be spoilers, as I am following the events of the anime as closely as possible.

age: 19-21 depending on ark

Sanji was born as the fourth child and third son to the ruler of the kingdom of Germa. His father Judge Vinsmoke experimented on his children and genetically altered them in hopes of turning them into super soldiers. However, Sanji did not display any of Judge's desired attributes, causing him and the rest of his family to shun Sanji as a failure, bullying and abusing him for being 'weak'.

Sanji ran away from Germa at a young age, working as a kitchen help on a ship until 'Redleg' Zeff and his pirate crew entered it. A storm caused the ship to sink and after being saved from drowning by the pirate Sanji was left stranded on a rock in the middle of the ocean alongside Zeff with no means of escape. They spent a total of 85 days there and nearly starved to death. They survived, if barely, and Zeff took Sanji under his wing as a cook and raised him under strict rules. He became the Sous Chef of the Baratie and arguably the best cook in the East Blue. From Zeff Sanji also retained his code of honor to never raise a hand (or foot) against a woman.

After Zeff and Sanji build a new home at the Baratie, Sanji grew up in that restaurant, working there nearly every day for the next decade until one fateful day a ship with a Jolly Roger bearing a strawhat arrived, bringing with it a new chapter of his life and an opportunity to chase his dream, the All Blue.

awakened

age: 24~25-ish

self-indulgent very canon-divergent verse where Sanji is on his own, and will eventually seek to either destroy or take over Germa as a means of revenge.

Sanji still grew up at the Baratie, but never met Luffy and the others. When he came of age his biological father Judge sought him out while the Baratie was at shore, letting him know that he was to return to Germa. When Zeff and the other inhabitants of the Baratie tried to oppose them after Sanji told Judge no they were killed on the spot by Sanji's siblings.

When Zeff's liveless body hit the ground, Sanji snapped.

It turned out the genetical enhancements everyone thought had failed to take effect in him only lay dormant up to this point and at last he unshackled himself, embracing his powers, getting lost in his rage. He got the jump on one of his brothers, injuring Niji severely and surprising all of them.

In the ensuing chaos Sanji managed to flee and has been on the run ever since. His father put an official bounty on his head soon after, making it even harder for him to continue running.

Sanji is ever so slowly getting stronger, and he despises it. His bounty increases, too, not by choice, but because of the endless stream of bounty hunters his father sends after him. His last resort is to find a way to the Grand Line, hoping it would allow him to outrun his past.

[seasaltandsmoke]

This may just be the most sureal interaction the two of them have had to this date. It's clear that whatever the beautiful lady from earlier did to Zoro not only weakened him but clearly screwed with his mind as well. There is no other sensible explanation for the way he snuggles up to Sanji now.

"What the hell are you—" The cook hisses at him when an arm winds around him and he finds himself held in place against the swordsman and it's only the fact that Zoro's movements are sluggish and his voice growing ever more quiet that Sanji doesn't reward him with a firm kick to the chest. He tenses, shoulders locking up and eyes widening when Zoro tilts his head up and presses close to his throat. Sanji blinks, a hand coming up to Zoro's shoulder to push him away, but then his crewmate just goes limp against him, his entire weight bearing down and Sanji instinctively holds him up when he threatens to slip off the couch.

Zoro's arm digs uncomfortably into his side, Sanji's back is angled weirdly, the position he is in becoming more and more uncomfortable with every passing moment. There is also the fact Zoro is still shivering, his body temperature oddly cold, even the skin of his face now pressed into the crook of Sanji's neck feels worryingly cold and so, Sanji stays put for now.

It lasts a whole ten minutes before he curses and tries to move, a twinge in his side causing him to try and shuffle out from under Zoro. It results in the swordsman shifting more firmly against him, his other arm winding around Sanji too, his face falling to his chest.

Sanji flushes in embarrassment, looking up at the worn ceiling of their hideout and wondering where he has gone wrong to be stuck here with Zoro rather than with a beautiful woman, but then that would have meant a lady taking that hit for him, and it is already bad enough that Zoro found it necessary to jump to protect him. He shivers at the thought of Nami or Robin having to go through something similar because of him. He'd never forgive himself...

He looks down at Zoro, guilt once again tightening his throat. The hand that fell to Zoro's shoulder to push him away now settles lightly over the curve of it. "Idiot," he whispers. Then grits his teeth at how softly it sounds.

He doesn't allow himself to think too closely about what he does next, reasons it away with not wanting to spend the whole night with his body in an awkward angle and risk waking up with his entire back in knots, but he rearranges them until they are pressed together on the couch a little more comfortably, Zoro's legs between his own, Sanji's arms drapped a little awkwardly over his back.

At least he's warming up now. Sanji thinks, as he adjusts his jacket around the swordsman's shoulders once more and admittedly, feeling his weight against him, as well as being able to monitor the slow rise and fall of his chest is... almost comforting in a way.

"You owe me for this," he says quietly, head sinking back against the armrest of the couch. Zoro, of course, doesn't answer him, but Sanji feels him shuffle ever so much closer, his green hair tickling the underside of his chin. His eyes close as well, the fading adrenaline making way for exhaustion. He still fights it, knowing he should stay awake in case someone comes across their hiding place, but eventually he is lulled to sleep by Zoro's returning warmth and the slow rhythm of his breathing.

And if he holds him a little closer just before slipping into unconsciousness, nobody needs to know.

The furrow of his brow doesn't ease, it even deepens when instead of voicing his protest he feels Zoro slump against him without more than a heavy breath. At the very least Sanji doesn't see or smell any blood on him and Zoro doesn't whince when he shifts one arm around his middle to keep him steady and help him walk over to the couch, so he takes that as a win.

Still, there is no question about whether or not something is wrong. Whatever the lady did, she sapped Zoro of his usual unwavering strength.

The realization settles like led in his gutt.

It's one thing when his convictions cause him to come to harm. It's his choice. He's prepared to die at the hands of a lady without touching so much as a hair on her head. He will never raise hand (or foot) against a woman.

But his crewmates know that, and sometimes... sometimes they do things like Zoro did earlier. Sometimes they throw themselves in harms way because they know, because they care.

Sanji would do the same, has done so multiple times and yet it never fsils to baffle him, never fails to tighten his throat and grit his teeth. He can't even truly be irritated with Zoro anymore, too in awe is he of the fact that the swordsman took this upon himself to spare Sanji from harm.

Lost in his thoughts for the duration of them trying to get Zoro settled, Sanji doesn't notice the way Zoro basically slips from his grasp, steps growing heavier. "Oi—" He almost snaps at him to at least make an effort to carry his own weight, but the moment he turns his head amd sees the pale nature of Zoro's skin he shuts his mouth and simply tightens his hold, sitting down with him in order to properly guide him down.

Concern bites at him, overshadows the twinge of annoyance when Zoro's head rolls weakly against his shoulder.

Sanji is busy adjusting his arm to better bear Zoro's weight when he asks his question and Sanji bites the inside of his cheek when he realizes that: no, he doesn't.

He shakes his head, his mind already working to find a solution to that particular problem. "We'll just have to wait this out and make our way to the ship later." and hope that the others already made it. He tries to not let the worry get to him, which isn't exactly made easier by the fact that Zoro grows ever more heavy against him.

Sanji bristles, tense and frustrated as he is, he can't deal with Zoro's lack of awareness for personal space on top of it all. However, another insult dies on his tongue the moment he turns his head to glare at the swordsman.

Is he... shivering? It's not even that cold around here.

"Hey, Zoro... Oi!" He brings up a hand to put it against Zoro's chest, searching his face. It shouldn't be possible, but in that moment Sanji can feel the coldness seep through Zoro's shirt and into his fingertips. His eyes widen. "Shit."

Without thinking further on the matter, Sanji maneuvers them so he can shrug his jacket off. "Normally, this service is reserved for all the beautiful ladies out there. So you better be grateful for this," he mutters as he drapes the piece of clothing around Zoro's shoulders, trying to distract himself from the fact that he's more than a little freaked out by seeing Zoro this weak.

[seasaltandsmoke]

seasaltandsmoke

PRIVATE & SELECTIVE RP BLOG FOR ''BLACKLEG' SANJI FROM ONE PIECE WRITTEN BY STRAY | MULTI-VERSE - MULTI-SHIP | HEADCANON BASED & CANON DIVERGENT

rules | headcanon | muse | verses

[seasaltandsmoke]

muse

NAME: Vinsmoke, Sanji

AGE: depends on verse (canon: 18-21)

D.O.B: March 2nd

GENDER: cis male

SEXUALITY: bisexual (closeted)

AFFILIATION: Strawhat Pirates.

BIO: After running away frim his abusive family at an early age, he found a mentor in the former pirate Zeff and a new home at the 'Baratie', a restaurant at sea. Over the years he learned his trade as a cook, becoming arguably the best in the East Blue.

Despite being reluctant to leave the Baratie when Luffy first asked him to join his crew, he eventually agreed, deciding to pursue his own dream of finding the 'All Blue', a fantastical ocean where all kinds of tasty sea creatures from all over the world are supposed to lurk.

POTENTIAL RP-HOOKS:

I'm flexible in terms of timeline and plot, these are just bare-bones ideas to provide a basis to be expanded upon and are by no means set in stone. Hit me up OOC via dms anytime to plot!

our muses meet while Sanji is still Sous Chef at the Baratie. Zeff likely made him wait tables again because of some argument.

Sanji was split up from his crew and got injured somehow and your muse stumbles upon him and decides to help.

Sanji stumbles upon your muse being injured and decides to help, and feed them, because... you know... it's Sanji, he can't not.

They get to talking. At a bar.

Your muse gets into an argument with Sanji at a market on some island over who gets the last of the rare ingredient on sale. He insists he definitely saw it first.

Sanji is his usual overbearing self around a woman and your muse calls him out on it.

in general: any male muses, please flirt with him, reactions would likely be hilarious and I'm here for it.

[seasaltandsmoke]

headcanon

There is always a small part of him missing the Baratiè and Zeff and the others on any given day, even though Sanji will not admit to it. However, when gets particularly homesick, he will cook dishes that were served back home, either from the menu, or some simpler dishes Zeff used to have him practice over and over again when he was still in training.

Admittedly, the further they sail on the Grand Line, the harder it gets to acquire certain ingredients needed for them, regional fish in particular, so it always brightens his day if they stumble upon a market with East Blue delicacies. Sometimes by some weird stroke of luck the others will even manage to fish up something themselves and Sanji can usually be found preparing dishes while humming happily to himself soon after.

[seasaltandsmoke]

rules

these are (mostly) guidelines I guess and might occasionally be expanded as I think of things, though there shouldn’t be anything major. I’d like to think I’m a chill person to write with. If you have any questions feel free to reach out and we can talk things through.

I. The usual applies. basic roleplay ettiquette. don’t take control of my character unless we plotted something out beforehand. don’t be a prick in general and we’re good.

II. Another basic thing you’ve probably read before: I’m 30 years old, and Sanji is 18+ at the very least. I will not write smut with minors. nsfw and other mature content will occur on my blog and will be tagged as nsfw.

III. I’m pretty new to writing Sanji and One Piece lore, but I have just about 10+ years or so of roleplay experience and have written a bunch of other muses before.

IV. Just as a disclaimer: English is not my first language, so feel free to point out any spelling or grammar mistakes when you find them.

V. Feel free to poke me about replies every now and again if I owe you, but know that I am a student at university and I also work 20h a week to pay the bills and such.

VI. I will only write threads with mutuals, and I am very selective with which threads I pour what little free time I do have into, but my ask is also open to any asks in general, they just most likely won’t turn into a thread if we’re not mutuals. STARTER CALLS ARE FOR MUTUALS ONLY.

VII. Concerning ships: I must admit that I am mad down to ship romantically, a shipping-whore if you will, but I must also warn you that shipping with me tends to involve lots of angst and also lots of big elaborate plots where our muses struggle to find their way to eachother.

VIII. rp memes do not have an expiration date. I’ll tag them ‘rpmemes’ and anything filed under that tag is fair game to be send in at any point in time.

IX. I am not currently looking for crossover threads with other franchises any thread will be set in the One Piece universe by default.

[seasaltandsmoke]

The furrow of his brow doesn't ease, it even deepens when instead of voicing his protest he feels Zoro slump against him without more than a heavy breath. At the very least Sanji doesn't see or smell any blood on him and Zoro doesn't whince when he shifts one arm around his middle to keep him steady and help him walk over to the couch, so he takes that as a win.

Still, there is no question about whether or not something is wrong. Whatever the lady did, she sapped Zoro of his usual unwavering strength.

The realization settles like led in his gutt.

It's one thing when his convictions cause him to come to harm. It's his choice. He's prepared to die at the hands of a lady without touching so much as a hair on her head. He will never raise hand (or foot) against a woman.

But his crewmates know that, and sometimes... sometimes they do things like Zoro did earlier. Sometimes they throw themselves in harms way because they know, because they care.

Sanji would do the same, has done so multiple times and yet it never fsils to baffle him, never fails to tighten his throat and grit his teeth. He can't even truly be irritated with Zoro anymore, too in awe is he of the fact that the swordsman took this upon himself to spare Sanji from harm.

Lost in his thoughts for the duration of them trying to get Zoro settled, Sanji doesn't notice the way Zoro basically slips from his grasp, steps growing heavier. "Oi—" He almost snaps at him to at least make an effort to carry his own weight, but the moment he turns his head amd sees the pale nature of Zoro's skin he shuts his mouth and simply tightens his hold, sitting down with him in order to properly guide him down.

Concern bites at him, overshadows the twinge of annoyance when Zoro's head rolls weakly against his shoulder.

Sanji is busy adjusting his arm to better bear Zoro's weight when he asks his question and Sanji bites the inside of his cheek when he realizes that: no, he doesn't.

He shakes his head, his mind already working to find a solution to that particular problem. "We'll just have to wait this out and make our way to the ship later." and hope that the others already made it. He tries to not let the worry get to him, which isn't exactly made easier by the fact that Zoro grows ever more heavy against him.

Sanji bristles, tense and frustrated as he is, he can't deal with Zoro's lack of awareness for personal space on top of it all. However, another insult dies on his tongue the moment he turns his head to glare at the swordsman.

Is he... shivering? It's not even that cold around here.

"Hey, Zoro... Oi!" He brings up a hand to put it against Zoro's chest, searching his face. It shouldn't be possible, but in that moment Sanji can feel the coldness seep through Zoro's shirt and into his fingertips. His eyes widen. "Shit."

Without thinking further on the matter, Sanji maneuvers them so he can shrug his jacket off. "Normally, this service is reserved for all the beautiful ladies out there. So you better be grateful for this," he mutters as he drapes the piece of clothing around Zoro's shoulders, trying to distract himself from the fact that he's more than a little freaked out by seeing Zoro this weak.

They turn a few corners in hopes of losing the enemies still in pursuit. Sanji doesn't like splitting from the crew, but he'll just have to trust in their abilities to get themselves to safety. Right now he needs to focus on their shitty swordsman and withstand the urge to hit him over the head with the heel of his boot for his stubborness. "Yeah, sure." He scoffs. As if he'd leave him. "And how long is that supposed to take? A year? Without me you don't even know your left from your right."

Once again he grasps Zoro's arm, irritated about the man pulling away from him and wasting precious time. His throat feels tight, from running he tells himself, not concern. He drags Zoro further along when footsteps sound behind them, far too close for comfort. Sanji leads them into an alley, meaning to go through it to another main street and circle back to the ship after a brief detour, but then he hears yelling ahead; another group of people on the lookout for them no doubt.

"Shit."

Sanji looks back, gaze briefly lingering on Zoro's face. He looks pale. No time. He looks ahead again. Neither direction seems particularly inviting right now, not when Zoro is not at full strength and Sanji's own ribs ache still from his encounter with that beautiful yet feisty lady from earlier.

His gaze falls on a boarded up window to their left, hidden mostly behind a stack of abandoned crates and within the blink of an eye he makes a decision. With one well-aimed kick the boards are no more and he prays that the commotion outside the alley overshadowed this particular sound.

He practically shoves Zoro inside the run down building, fighting the wave of worry when he sees the other man sway and stumble in light of it. He briefly watches Zoro brace himself against a nearby wall, but Sanji doesn't have time to come to his aid just yet. He climbs in after him and once inside grabs the next best thing — an old wardrobe — to shove infront the window, hoping to conceal it best he can.

He can feel the irritation radiating off of Zoro, but before the other has a chance to curse him out for manhandling and ignoring him once again, Sanji presses a hand to his mouth and a finger to his own lips, fierce gaze bidding him to be quiet. And sure enough, there are hurried steps outside the haphazardly barricaded window. Sanji tenses. A drop of sweat runs down the side of his face and mingles with the blood from before as they stand unmoving, both barely breathing, although he can feel Zoro's weak exhales through his nose against the back of his hand.

Outside, men shout at eachother. Someone barks an order. They hear more footsteps and then silence.

Sanji exhales long and drawn out, relief rounding his shoulders. He pulls his hand away from Zoro's mouth and takes a step back, his one visible eyebrow furrowing as he takes in his crewmate's overall state. He looks absolutely wiped.

Sanji bites the inside of his cheek, then throws a glance over his shoulder at the other windows of the place, all of them nailed shut just like the first one, but poorly, letting in some light from the outside. He peers through one of the gaps, and finds the town still in uproar over their disappearance.

"We should stay here for a bit." He tells Zoro, voice a low drawl. Maybe even until nightfall. He doesn't like the thought of spending anymore time in a hostile environment, but right now it is their best bet to stay undetected. He turns back to Zoro, finally losing the battle against himself amd needong to address the issue:

"...You hurt?"

[seasaltandsmoke]

They turn a few corners in hopes of losing the enemies still in pursuit. Sanji doesn't like splitting from the crew, but he'll just have to trust in their abilities to get themselves to safety. Right now he needs to focus on their shitty swordsman and withstand the urge to hit him over the head with the heel of his boot for his stubborness. "Yeah, sure." He scoffs. As if he'd leave him. "And how long is that supposed to take? A year? Without me you don't even know your left from your right."

Once again he grasps Zoro's arm, irritated about the man pulling away from him and wasting precious time. His throat feels tight, from running he tells himself, not concern. He drags Zoro further along when footsteps sound behind them, far too close for comfort. Sanji leads them into an alley, meaning to go through it to another main street and circle back to the ship after a brief detour, but then he hears yelling ahead; another group of people on the lookout for them no doubt.

"Shit."

Sanji looks back, gaze briefly lingering on Zoro's face. He looks pale. No time. He looks ahead again. Neither direction seems particularly inviting right now, not when Zoro is not at full strength and Sanji's own ribs ache still from his encounter with that beautiful yet feisty lady from earlier.

His gaze falls on a boarded up window to their left, hidden mostly behind a stack of abandoned crates and within the blink of an eye he makes a decision. With one well-aimed kick the boards are no more and he prays that the commotion outside the alley overshadowed this particular sound.

He practically shoves Zoro inside the run down building, fighting the wave of worry when he sees the other man sway and stumble in light of it. He briefly watches Zoro brace himself against a nearby wall, but Sanji doesn't have time to come to his aid just yet. He climbs in after him and once inside grabs the next best thing — an old wardrobe — to shove infront the window, hoping to conceal it best he can.

He can feel the irritation radiating off of Zoro, but before the other has a chance to curse him out for manhandling and ignoring him once again, Sanji presses a hand to his mouth and a finger to his own lips, fierce gaze bidding him to be quiet. And sure enough, there are hurried steps outside the haphazardly barricaded window. Sanji tenses. A drop of sweat runs down the side of his face and mingles with the blood from before as they stand unmoving, both barely breathing, although he can feel Zoro's weak exhales through his nose against the back of his hand.

Outside, men shout at eachother. Someone barks an order. They hear more footsteps and then silence.

Sanji exhales long and drawn out, relief rounding his shoulders. He pulls his hand away from Zoro's mouth and takes a step back, his one visible eyebrow furrowing as he takes in his crewmate's overall state. He looks absolutely wiped.

Sanji bites the inside of his cheek, then throws a glance over his shoulder at the other windows of the place, all of them nailed shut just like the first one, but poorly, letting in some light from the outside. He peers through one of the gaps, and finds the town still in uproar over their disappearance.

"We should stay here for a bit." He tells Zoro, voice a low drawl. Maybe even until nightfall. He doesn't like the thought of spending anymore time in a hostile environment, but right now it is their best bet to stay undetected. He turns back to Zoro, finally losing the battle against himself amd needong to address the issue:

"...You hurt?"

It catches him by surprise, being shoved aside in a flurry of motion, the glint of metal having him turn his head to meet Zoro's eyes just before they collide. The world tilts, his cigarette drops from his mouth with the shock, but he barely feels his impact on the ground after he fails to find his footing quickly enough. All pales in comparison to the noise of unadulterated pain that leaves Zoro's mouth as he is hit by the attack instead of Sanji. The noise chills him to the bone. he catches the way Zoro nearly drops Wado from inbetween his teeth because of it, watches him tighten his jaw and regain focus within the blink of an eye, although his posture is changed now. He seems strained, pressed to keep standing even.

"I didn't ask for your help, you sorry excuse of a swordsman!" He shouts the insult back on mere instinct, pure habit motivating his words even as he scrambles back to his feet, but his voice comes out almost wavering. His lips may be curled into a familiar snarl, but the widening of his eyes betrays the guilt and worry that closes up his throat.

This is my fault. He thinks helplessly. This is my fucking fault.

He fights down the nausea that threatens to take a hold of him, ignores the instinct to immediately step infront of Zoro to keep him from further harm as well. He doesn't know why he gets the sense that something is severely wrong, but given that the woman made such a spectactle of her attack brings with it a sense of foreboding Sanji desperately hopes is just him being paranoid.

Instead of giving in to that formerly mentioned more chivalrous part of himself — the part of him the mosshead doesn't deserve to be graced by on the best of days, he reminds himself — Sanji takes a stand beside him as he has done countless times at this point. But still, something feels off. He glances at Zoro, hears the uncharacteristic heaviness of his breaths.

But before he can say anything else, they're caught in another onslaught of enemies. They fall into step easily enough, but it lacks the previous comfort. Sanji can't shake the feeling that he is forced to pick up where Zoro's movements now turn sluggish.

His boot connects with the top of someone's head, leaving the man unconscious on the floor. He hears Usopp shriek something from across the battlefield, then Nami's lovely, but also clearly agitated voice follows up on it.

"Everyone, fall back! Split up and regroup at the ship!"

Sanji agrees wholeheartedly. "Of course, Nami-swan~ What a perfectly thought out plan." He chirps back, the rush of adoration for her almost enough to drown out his concern for the swaying swordsman at his side.

Almost.

He grabs Zoro by the back of his shirt and pulls him close before the other man can object, an arm winds around his lower back, already gearing up for a jump, legs bowing and tensing before they straighten with a force strong enough to leave their enemies staggered as he propels both of them out of the range of their enemies, leaving the way clear, or at least clear enough, for them to leave the battlefield behind. His hand moves to one of Zoro's wrists, dragging him along as he seems ready to simply throw himself back into the fray. "Move it, Marimo! And stay close."

And if his hold is a bit tighter than it strictly needs to be, he is willing to blame it on the stress of their situation.