#caveman sanji fine as hell

[summershouto]

ok so. these. These are the ones that make me lose my mind.

[sanjisock]

Fuck, Marry, Kill (or, how Usopp becomes the best matchmaker of the sea without really trying)

ao3

1.

It’s a classic , Usopp said. Any pirate worth their salt would play this at least once , he said.

Sanji would say he’s around eighty-percent sure Usopp just made this game up, but Sanji is always eighty-percent sure Usopp made something up just by principle alone. It certainly doesn’t help Usopp’s case that Nami is grinning wide beside him, notepad and quill in hands.

“So,” Nami echoes Usopp’s earlier question cheerfully, and her smile is way too beautiful and magnificent for the words that come out of her mouth next: “fuck, marry, kill. Who’s your pick?”

+

2.

There are rules to this stupid game. Actual fucking rules . Not even the world government kind, the ones they break on a daily basis anyways because, hey, pirates. These rules are the kind that forces you to pay Nami a hefty amount of Berries if you break them, which, on the deck of Sunny, means nothing short of Serious Business.

Nami had taken to the game with surprising interest as soon as Usopp told her about it, but then again, she talked about it with the same tone she uses when she’s going to swindle a lot of money from an unsuspecting poor fellow (read: Zoro), so maybe this isn’t much of a surprise at all.

The rules, pinned next to the spice cupboard and right under the dishwashing duty roster, are as follows:

A crew member must be picked whenever possible.

Only one name is to be given for each category.

If, and only if, one has come up with a legitimate reason not to pick a crew member, it has to be someone they’ve met, known, or at the very least, heard.

Choices are based on pure objective reasoning and any FUCK/MARRY shall not be interpreted as anything resembling interest or, worse, intention to pursue. This means you, Sanji.

The same applies to KILL. This means you, Zoro.

Individual answers are confidential and worth B500,000/answer, or 10% of your last loot, whichever is higher.*

*) Payments are to be made in cash to Nami.

Really, it shouldn’t have been a surprise at all. Sanji thinks he saw her eyes turn Berries-shaped. He personally thinks she still looks beautiful, and tells her as much.

She tells him this doesn’t excuse him from the game, and expects his answer by the end of the week.

+

3.

Sanji is the first victim by elimination — Chopper is out of the game because he is young, innocent and, ultimately, not human, Zoro is sleeping like the oaf he is, Luffy doesn’t seem to have figured out that the thing below his belt is useful for something other than peeing, and the others have left the ship to explore the newest island they’ve just docked at.

Sanji silently wishes the marines would start attacking them just so they could distract Nami and Usopp from the shitty game.

It’s not that Sanji wants to ruin what is — Nami’s expensive fine notwithstanding — ultimately some harmless fun. Sanji has never had problems going along with the crew’s antics, and between declaring war on the World Government and punching a royalty so hard they call a marine admiral after you, this one is far from outrageous by any means. He doesn’t think it’s physically possible for him to give Nami a no for an answer, either.

It’s just that... he doesn’t actually have an answer.

He’s a romantic person by nature. He likes to make everyone happy, and when that doesn’t work out, he likes to make everyone he gives a shit about happy. He does preen from the more... feminine attention, but between the bustling customers of Baratie, entering and leaving as they please, he never learned how to pick favorites.

Nami points at rule number two.

Usopp suggests he should just pick Zoro for MARRY, because they already fight like an old married couple anyways.

Sanji threatens to put Usopp under KILL and break the fifth rule, exactly in that order. Usopp has enough self preservation instinct to shut up really fast after that.

+

Brook has never heard of the game, which gives more credibility to the Usopp-Made-This-Game-Up Theory, but it’s not like there’s stopping them at this point, so Sanji fumes and glares, but in silence. Usopp smartly stays quiet.

Brook asks if Nami would show him her panties if he puts her under MARRY. Nami clocks him in the skull.

He settles on Zoro for MARRY.

“What,” Sanji says, stunned.

“Well, Zoro-san is a disciplined, reputable swordsman,” Brook explains, “and any decent swordsman would make a responsible husband.”

That...probably makes sense in Swordsman-Speak, or whatever language people like Zoro, who substitutes normal greeting with stabbing and slashing, speak in. Whatever. Sanji is civilized , and will not bother to even try to understand.

Brook can’t name anyone under KILL. He is, however, curious if anyone wants to pick him, considering he’s already dead, yohoho, skull joke!

Nami groans and hits his skull, again.

+

Franky has heard of the game, but he can’t pinpoint where he’s exactly heard it from, and Sanji suspects it’s from Usopp.

Franky also puts Zoro under MARRY. Franky is so not on Sanji’s list of favorite people today.

“Not you too,” Sanji groans, scandalized, because Brook is approximately a billion years old and therefore would understandably consider Zoro’s neanderthal values desirable, but Franky is, like, the future . Cyborgs are essentially sentient robots.

Franky shrugs. “He’s a super dude, his fights make great shanties, he can help me carry the ship materials —”

“ I can help you carry the ship materials,” Sanji interrupts, and wonders how his life has gotten to a point where he’s trying to compete with Zoro for Franky’s hand in marriage.

“ And ,” Franky presses, “he won’t chew me out for burping on the table after dinner.”

Sanji’s eyes twitch at that. Well. In sickness and health, sure, but that? That’s just barbaric.

“He’s a great dude who breaks the Sunny’s railings once a week,” Sanji points out, switching his strategy. If he can’t win, at least Zoro should lose, too.

His strategy backfires as Franky raises his eyebrow at him and asks, “Speaking of, didn’t you break the front railing yesterday?”

Franky puts Sanji on KILL for that.

Sanji considers smashing his feet through the railing again, just because he can.

+

Robin immediately picks Zoro for MARRY, because blah yadda blah bushido code, something something gentlemanly, yeah, yeah. Sanji mentally apologizes for tuning her out, but if he has to listen to beautiful Robin-chan talking about Zoro being a good husband, Sanji won’t be able to resist arguing, and that just won’t do. He isn’t about to question a lady’s decision, however irrational. Nobody’s perfect after all — not even Robin.

She also puts Zoro under KILL for ruining her flower bed last week when he accidentally dropped his oversized training weight (which is unnecessarily huge and totally an overcompensation for something ), and he falls for her all over again. Robin really is perfect.

She then tries to clarify whether normal Franky and Cyborg Franky count as one.

“Uh,” Nami says, confused, “would it even make a difference?”

“Nami,” Robin says as she leans forward, chin in hand and a mysterious smile playing on her lips, “the hands make all the difference.”

Robin puts Cyborg Franky under FUCK. Sanji blinks.

Usopp grimaces.

Nami has a distant look on her face, the kind of expression that guys wear when they witness other guys get hit in the nuts.

They pointedly don’t ask , and back away from the room slowly.

+

4.

The final tally is:

Sanji gets one flattering FUCK (he hasn’t found out from whom, and honestly, considering the available options of Usopp, Luffy and Nami, doesn’t want to take his chances), Robin gets two (Nami shiftily avoids everyone’s eyes for this one), Cyborg Franky gets one (Franky opens his mouth to question the specificity, turns beet red by his own realization, and promptly closes it), and Zoro gets one ( ew , is what Sanji would like to say, but Sanji is man enough to admit that Zoro can get it, considering those abs and deltoids he keeps flashing due to his unexplainable aversions to clothing. Fucking caveman).

Zoro gets a whopping five for MARRY.

That’s literally all the strawhats, minus Luffy (who probably doesn’t even know what marriage is), Chopper, Zoro himself, and Sanji.

What the actual fuck .

+

5.

Sanji succumbs to curiosity and pays Nami his ten percent.

Zoro put Sanji under KILL, he finds out.

It’s not a surprise. Hell, it’s the most predictable thing coming out of this game—the sky is blue, water is wet, and Zoro puts Sanji under KILL. Whatever. Sanji still hasn’t decided on his list quite yet, but he is certain he’d put Zoro under KILL, too.

Nami asks him if he wants to know what Zoro’s FUCK and MARRY are, and Sanji politely declines because he just doesn’t care which random chick Zoro wants to do the deed with and not because the way his stomach clenches oddly at the thought, really . It’s probably that beautiful marine lady that always tags along with Smoker — Tashigi-chan or something. Zoro always acts funny around her, even when the others never noticed. He’s an open book to Sanji like that.

Sanji walks away and doesn’t give it a second thought.

Bastard.

+

6.

He gave it a second thought.

And a third. And a fourth. And damn his shitty traitorous brain to hell, a fifth.

By the time lunch rolls around Zoro and Tashigi are married with a quaint little dojo at the foot of a mountain and blessed with three bespectacled, green-haired children Sanji can’t even bring himself to hate because they’d smile just so when their Uncle Sanji makes their favorite apple pie.

Not that there’s anything to hate. About Zoro and Tashigi-chan, that is. Well, there’s always something to hate about Zoro because he’s Zoro , and Sanji would probably nag him a little for receiving the affections from such a beautiful lady like Tashigi, but there’s absolutely nothing deplorable about the idea in general. They’d get along swimmingly anyways, probably spending hours and hours just talking about shitty swords and other sharp, pointy things as their three children play in their backyard overlooking a beautiful deep blue sea, the setting sun painting a warm backdrop on the wooden walls of their dojo.

He blinks as his train of thought crashes and derails into a nearby mental chasm.

He blinks again, just for good measure.

Holy fucking shit, he has a problem .

+

7.

“Marines!” Usopp yells from the crow’s nest, and Sanji wakes up, eyes still bleary, to three marine ships surrounding Sunny, cannons loaded and aimed towards the deck.

Be careful what you wish for, he feels like telling his past self.

He rushes to the deck to get a clearer view on their enemies, and hell , he’s convinced the universe finds pleasure in finding new ways to fuck him over because he sees Smoker on the helm of the largest marine ship.

And if there’s Smoker, there’s —

“Shit,” Zoro mutters from beside him, and Sanji only needs to follow his gaze to see Tashigi walk up towards the helm to stand beside Smoker. Because of course Zoro would notice her immediately. There are roughly a thousand marines on three of these galleons and she’s the first person Zoro sees. Great. Awesome. That would make a romantic story to tell their three green-haired children.

God damn it. His brain really needs to stop with the children already. He considers going for a check up with Chopper just for this.

A thousand bloodthirsty marines prove to be a good enough distraction from Zoro and Tashigi’s imaginary children, and soon Sanji is lost in the rhythm of the fight, almost enjoying it. He kicks a marine on the back of the head, does a spinning kick to immobilize another ten, and jumps aside to avoid a gunshot —

Only to find himself face to face with Tashigi.

“Black Leg —” Tashigi says, immediately taking a fighting stance, but Sanji is faster.

Before he knows it, he finds himself kicking the two guys guarding her, lifts and drives his right leg on her sword and into the cabin wall right beside her head, effectively pinning her to the wall. Sanji doesn’t kick women, would never harm a woman, but anything around her is fair game and he feels almost guilty for trying to wrestle a loophole in his own principle.

He needs to do this, though. He has to. She’s a marine, his enemy, a threat. And… there’s something he needs to know.

He blurts without thinking, “fuck, marry, kill. Who would you pick?”

Tashigi starts. “What?”

He thinks he’s blushing, but he figures if he wants to avoid embarrassment the ship has sailed a long time ago so he says, “out of the strawhats. If you had to choose, who would you fuck, marry and kill?”

Tashigi narrows her eyes and pulls harder on her sword. “Are you joking, pirate?!”

Sanji is stronger, though. He pushes her sword deeper into the wall. “I’m sorry, mademoiselle, but I don’t joke about this.”

Tashigi wears the expression of someone who wonders what kind of life decisions she’s made that has led her into this situation, which is something Sanji can relate with. “Well, fuck you , pirate. I’d kill you .”

That’s fair, Sanji supposes. “And marry?”

She opens her mouth, stops herself from saying at least three other different curses before turning an interesting shade of red.

She mumbles her answer.

“Yes, Tashigi-chan?”

“Don’t call me Tashigi- chan ,” she snarls, much louder, before muttering again, though Sanji can hear it this time, a low, shy, “well, that swordsman of yours did save my life back in Punk Hazard.”

Tashigi blushes brighter, and Sanji knows a lost cause when he sees one.

Zoro and Tashigi have four children this time in his head, three girls and one boy, and it sucks, so fucking unfair that everyone wants to marry Zoro, with his stupid hair and stupid face and stupid everything. What’s so good about him anyways? The moron doesn’t even have depth perception . He doesn’t deserve all these beautiful girls, wouldn’t even be able to cherish them and treat them with love like Sanji would.

Who’s to say that they would know him either? Zoro’s a moron , after all, and he probably only has, like, three sets of expressions. Sure, Sanji can read his tics, knows the way Zoro clenches and unclenches his left hand when he sees a potentially strong opponents, the way Zoro would rub the back of his neck when he’s embarrassed — but these girls don’t know that. He doesn’t think anyone knows that, and without knowing the real Zoro, how could they make him happy? Would they know how to find him when he gets lost? Would they cook him his favorite food every day? Would they love him as much Sanji does —

Wait.

Sanji pauses.

And.

Breathes.

Tashigi has started protesting now, demanding her swords to be returned now that she’s gone along with his ridiculous demands, but it all sounds so distant now, because.

He loves. Zoro.

Sanji inhales. Then exhales.

He loves Zoro .

He sees it again, the dojo at the foot of a hill overlooking the beautiful blue sea, but this time the dojo belongs to Zoro and him , and two of the four children have blonde hair, and the sea outside is All Blue. The imagination seems so vivid because somewhere along the line that has become his dream , a future he envisioned as clearly as finding All Blue and witnessing Luffy become a Pirate King.

Fuck, he’s in love with Zoro.

“Shit,” he says heartily. “I’m in love with Zoro.”

“What?” Tashigi says, perplexed. Sanji hopes it’s because she can’t hear him amidst the cacophony of gunfire, swords, and bodies hitting the floor.

He lowers his leg and steps back, still in shock by the revelation.

Tashigi is looking at him in confusion, or at least he assumes she does, because he’s no longer paying much attention to his surroundings. How could he, when he’s just come to such a huge revelation about himself, holy fucking hell he’s in love with Zoro —

A passing marine takes the chance and stabs a sword through his lungs.

+

8.

The last thing he remembers is choking on air, mentally laughing at the fucked up irony of living on a ship surrounded by endless seas just to meet his end by drowning on dry land. He thinks he saw flashes of metal, of Zoro’s stupid green hair and stupider face, torn apart between anger and concern, Sanji’s name for once stumbled out of his lips — but Sanji is pretty sure he imagined this last part up. He is a romantic fool like that.

He blinks himself awake to the familiar smell of Chopper’s infirmary, the oddly soothing mix of medicine and sweets. He tries to sit up as far as his bandaged torso would allow, and when he catches the orange of Nami’s hair his heart warms but doesn’t flutter. It hasn’t been, he realizes, for quite some time.

He really is in love with Zoro. God damn it.

“Sanji?” Nami says when their eyes finally meet, and she hurriedly stands up, “oh my god, you’re awake, I need to wake Chopper up, Chopper —”

“Don’t worry, Nami-san,” he says, catching her wrist just in time before she rushes out of his reach, “I’m fine. Let our doctor sleep for some time.”

“But,” she says, but it’s a token resistance at best, as she’s already sitting down again. She tugs his grip lightly at that — a small, playful movement — but he feels the pull reverberate through his arm and to his chest, jarring him into a coughing fit.

He thinks he’s coughed up both of his lungs before a glass of water touches his lips. It takes him a few gulps and a couple more deep breaths before he realizes Nami is rambling a guilty “oh my god, Sanji-kun, oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

He clears his throat and tries to give her his best smile, “please don’t apologize, Nami-san! A beautiful face like yours shall not be marred with unnecessary worries.”

Nami sighs, but it’s fond. “You were unconscious for a whole week,” she says, squeezing his shoulder, “let me fuss over you for a while.”

Sanji whips his head towards her in shock, mouth hanging open

“A week,” he echoes. No wonder he feels so sluggish. He thought it might have been the medicine, but apparently he danced far too near to the grim reaper than he was comfortable with.

His gaze drifts to take in more of the infirmary, afraid that he’s missed more important details like not remembering an entire week of his life . For the most part everything seems to be in place, large shelves filled with Chopper’s neatly-arranged medical books beside his work table, with complicated looking medical appliances situated more at the corner of the room, near the door. His gaze eventually falls on the small bedside table and he does a double take.

Zoro’s katanas — all three of them — are leaning against the foot of the table. Sanji frowns; it’s rare to see them without their owner, and rarer still to see them being parted with so voluntarily, away from the swordsman's sight.

“Yeah, Zoro was here,” Nami answers the unvoiced question as she notices what he’s been staring at, “been by your bedside all week, actually. We had a roster, just in case you —” Nami pauses at that, looks away and — did her voice waver at the end there? “You know. Anyway, didn’t even need the whole roster thing in the end because Zoro just wouldn’t leave. Stubborn man. Just his luck you woke up when he took a bathroom break; serves him right for growling at me when I offered him to switch on the first day. He looked like he was ready to gouge his remaining eye out and leave it in the infirmary if it meant keeping an eye on you, science be damned.”

Sanji blinks, again, at the story. There’s a weird tug at this chest. He lifts his hand up to touch it, and it feels warm, from the inside.

“It’s frankly kind of cute, how he’s been acting like a mother hen,” Nami continues, and her smile gains a mischievous edge as she adds, “or, you know, like a worried husband.”

Sanji wants to say something to that, but Chopper probably gave him some strong stuff because his tongue feels heavy and he can feel the strong pull of sleep dragging him back to unconsciousness.

He sees darkness at the edges of his vision, and doesn’t think at all as he says, “yeah, he would make a good husband,” and eyes already closed, he sees the house at the foot of the hill and mumbles, “I’d marry him.”

Chopper’s medicine really is strong.

+

9.

The next time Sanji opens his eyes, there’s a cottony rasp on the inside of his mouth and dread looming at the back of his mind. It’s reminiscent of days when they partied too hard and he drank one too many glasses of liquor, but worse , because he remembers every single word he said to Nami.

He considers asking Chopper on his stance on euthanasia.

It doesn’t help that the person sitting beside his bed is not the ever-beautiful, ever-wonderful Nami, but the last person he’d rather see after his accidental confession. He has no doubt that Nami has told Zoro everything — has told everyone everything — and while his body has mostly recovered from the injuries, he’s pretty sure he could still die from embarrassment.

He sits up on the bed, scrambling for an excuse, “Zoro —”

“You almost died,” Zoro interrupts before Sanji could even finish his sentence, and takes Sanji’s hand in his. “Don’t you dare do that again, Shit Cook.”

Sanji stares at their hands, and wonders if Chopper’s medicine is even stronger than he thought. “What does it mean to you?”

Zoro shrugs. “You know what,” he answers vaguely.

Sanji doesn’t , though. Zoro shifts in his seat, looking away, seemingly embarrassed by his own words, and Sanji is left wondering what the fuck is happening. Zoro is the type of person who gives brutally honest and oftentimes insensitive answers. He doesn’t give cryptic, vague answers — that’s more of Sanji’s department. “What?”

Zoro pulls his hand away, and Sanji hates how his own hand feels very cold all of a sudden. “You know. Our answers for Usopp’s stupid game.”

Sanji would rather take another sword to the chest than to continue with this conversation, so he does the cowardly thing and practically leaps out of the bed. “I’m not in the mood to talk about that.”

Zoro is faster, though — Sanji is blaming all the medicines in his bloodstream for his slow reaction — and manages to catch Sanji by the wrist. “Where are you going?”

“Away. Out.” He pats his pockets with his free hand, but doesn’t find his cigarettes, unsurprisingly. Fuck, he needs a smoke. “In case you forgot, I haven’t been out for a week from this shitty room.”

“Seriously?” Zoro growls in reply, tightening his grip. “That’s all you got to say? Didn’t you pay for my answers? Nami told me you — if that sea witch is lying again —”

“I told you not to call Nami-san like that,” he replies, almost instinctively, feeling more and more agitated by the turn of the conversation. “What the fuck are you talking about, brainless mosshead.”

Zoro glowers at him, face oddly serious. “Did you or did you not get my answers for the stupid game?”

Sanji is going to lose it. Is Zoro seriously trying to rub this whole thing in his face? The fact that Sanji wants to marry him, even after knowing Zoro only puts him under kill? Knowing that Zoro doesn’t find him desirable in any way, that he’d prefer having three wonderful well-mannered kids with a beautiful marine lady?

“You put me under KILL!” He yells, unable to stop himself. “If this is your way of telling me you want to kill me, drop it. Way too roundabout for your style, Marimo. And just in case you’re wondering, no, I didn’t bother to find out who you want to fuck. Or marry.” He looks away, trying not to choke on his own heart. “Happy?”

Zoro’s eyes widen comically at that, and he loosens his grip on Sanj’s wrist in surprise; Sanji doesn’t miss the chance and kicks him on the chest.

Zoro flies out of the infirmary through the door with a satisfying bang , and Sanji relishes his victory for a moment before growing reluctantly concerned as Zoro doesn’t get up from that. Surely he didn’t kick him that hard, did he? He jogs towards the dust-covered body on the deck, and finds Zoro with his head in his hand, mouth twisting into a hysterical laughter.

“Stupid cook,” Zoro says as soon as Sanji’s close enough to hear him, “are you jealous?”

Sanji growls, and pointedly doesn’t blush. “I’m going to kill you.”

When Zoro drops his hand and looks up, he doesn’t look like he’s making fun of Sanji, though. He looks surprised, and even almost… hopeful? “You are jealous.”

Sanji has about a thousand retorts to that, but all of them die in his lips as Zoro tugs him down by the hand, pulling him to crouch right in front of Zoro. Their faces are really close like this, and Sanji can’t look away.

“Cook,” Zoro says when Sanji doesn’t say anything, “Nami said you put me under your MARRY. Is that true?”

Sanji refuses to answer, but the way he looks away and blushes like a fourteen-year-old is probably a good enough answer for Zoro. Zoro laughs, tightens his grip on Sanji’s wrist and pulls him into a kiss.

Sanji’s life needs to have fewer twists before he dies from heart attack at the tender age of twenty-one.

When they part, Zoro doesn’t lean away; presses their foreheads together instead, his hand large and warm on the nape of Sanji’s neck. There’s a big grin plastered across Zoro’s flushed face, the kind that Sanji only sees whenever the swordsman comes across an alcohol he likes, or wins a particularly hard fight, or — as Sanji begins to understand, heart hammering in his chest like it’s trying to escape — whenever Zoro is really, really happy, apparently. And to think that Sanji is the one who puts that smile on Zoro’s face —

“I put you under MARRY, you dumbass,” Zoro says, though his insult doesn’t carry much weight, considering the stupid grin still wouldn’t leave his face. “Put you under everything , Cook. Kill, fuck, marry — the whole deal. Because that’s how far you’ve messed me up — you idiot, stupid, annoying, oblivious Shit Cook,” he presses another kiss, chaste and light and all too quick, leaving tingling sensations on Sanji’s lips. “I am in love with you.”

The words rattle against Sanji’s ribcage, his heart threatening to burst from his chest. His face feels warm all over, and he’d look away, except for the fact that Zoro’s hands are gently cupping his face, thumb rubbing absentmindedly against Sanji’s cheek.

“You’d make the shittiest husband ever,” Sanji tells him, because Zoro might be the love of his life — and ain’t that a thought that could make his heart miss a couple of beats — but he still wouldn’t miss a chance to tease Zoro.

“Yeah.” Zoro simply agrees at that, laughing softly. “I’d be your shittiest husband, though.”

Sanji doesn’t find a reason to argue with that, heart jackrabbiting against his chest, and simply leans for another kiss.

+

10.

By unanimous decision, and with some heavy censorship by replacing FUCK with SLEEP, they decided that Chopper is at least old and human enough to know what’s going on with the game.

“I’m not happy at all that you decided to finally include me in the game, bastard!” Chopper said with a happy wiggle, his hooves clapping together excitedly.

He puts Zoro under SLEEP. Literally. Chopper thinks Zoro makes a great pillow, and a great sleeping partner because he doesn’t move around.

Chopper purses his lips at MARRY.

“The idea of human marriage is still foreign to me,” he says, explaining his silence, “there are too many factors involved in human marriage. For us reindeers, all we look for in a mate is one who can provide us food.”

As if on cue, Zoro throws a large fish onto the deck. There are three large slashes on its belly, crossing through its gills.

Chopper picks Zoro for MARRY.

Sanji resists the urge to bash his head repeatedly on the ship mast, and doesn’t go through with it only because Zoro leans in and steals a kiss from him, effectively blocking his path.

Bastard. Shittiest husband ever .

[pandamega]

Digestif

AO3 | FF.net  (not a new fic, just never uploaded it to tumblr)

Obligatory coffee-shop AU gone awry. ZoSan. Ace tries to hook his buddy Zoro up with the cute waiter at the bakery, what ensues is disaster. One shot.

Working two jobs to make rent, wasn’t that the millennial experience if there was one. Baker by day, bartender by night, Sanji could do it all, except sleep and have a social life. How he longed to trade places with his customers, on dates, meeting friends, buying drinks for beautiful strangers. He wanted that fateful encounter in the coffee shop! Something to give his life that little extra excitement! Someone to stifle the sting of loneliness in his heart.

He laughed with a cynical smile, no, he would continue flattering his female customers and being shy and terse towards the handsome males. It was his eternal, fatal flaw. He couldn’t be honest with his feelings, so he directed all his affection towards the fairer sex and hid away his desires for the cruder one. Alas, woe was he.

“A coffee shop though?” asked an exasperated green-haired man.

“Yes!” replied his dark-haired and lightly freckled friend.

“Ace, no.”

“Zoro, yes.

The two good friends got along on most subjects unless it came to Zoro’s social life. It would be generous to call him a recluse, he was a caveman. All he did outside of work was eat, sleep, and workout. If he never had to talk to another human, he would be perfectly content. This was altogether unacceptable in Ace’s mind. The sociable and extroverted man was the only positive influence on Zoro’s life, besides his brother, who was in a league of his own when it came to being outgoing.

“Look Zoro… You’re going to love this place. I’m telling you.”

“What is there to love about overpriced coffee - which I don’t drink - and girly pastries?”

“First of all, they have more than just coffee, second of all, girly pastries are the most delicious pastries, and speaking of delicious, there’s something, or rather someone, even more delicious there.” Ace wiggled his eyebrows and elbowed his friend suggestively.

“Oh no, this is another one of your terrible hookup ideas. Absolutely no way in hell.”

“Well too bad, because we’re here.”

The pair had been walking home from work, or rather, walking to the coffee shop from work, which Zoro hadn’t noticed. His sense of direction was so terrible that he was oblivious to the fact that they had started walking in the opposite direction from home.

The door made a little “ding” when they entered the cool, air conditioned shop, escaping the hot and humid summer air.

“Welcome, I’ll be with you shortly,” came a voice from across the small shop.

Ace looked back at his green-haired friend, beaming. Zoro studied the room, looking for the person Ace was trying to set him up with, so he could prepare himself to be as cold and uninterested as possible. A cute waitress was serving tea, she had a charming smile and was not at all Zoro’s type. He looked away from the girl in time to notice a waiter approaching them. He was tall and slender with a curtain of smooth blonde hair framing his face, parted so that it obscured his right eye. He was the one, Zoro realized as his chest thumped. Damn, Ace was good. Zoro slinked behind his friend to that the waiter wasn’t in full view.

When Sanji saw the familiar face enter the shop he put on a playful scowl and said, “you!”

“You!” replied Ace, laughing.

“I thought I told you to stay away,” the waiter threatened dramatically.

“Nothing could keep me away from your hot buttered scones, Sanji.”

Sanji broke out laughing, and Zoro couldn’t help but smile at the endearing, albeit theatrical display.

“Who’s this, did you bring a date with you?” Asked the waiter as he led them to a table.

“Yes,” Zoro replied instantly, seeing this as a chance to throw a wrench in his friend’s scheme. He even went so far as to take Ace’s arm awkwardly in his.

Ace looked at him in shock, pulling his arm away and whispering urgently, “ what are you doing!!”

Zoro replied with a sly grin that seemed to say, “good luck with your plan now.”

To both Ace and Zoro’s surprise the waiter stammered and flushed saying, “O-oh, how, uh, precious.”

The person Ace had brought along was a dream of a man. Broad shoulders, sun-kissed skin, rugged features, and rippling muscles barely contained under his earthy green t-shirt. Sanji had prepared himself to act coldly towards the man, as usual, only to discover that he was Ace’s b-boyfriend which meant that he was gay. Actually that meant Ace was also interested in men, which was news to Sanji. His secret identity wanted to jump out and shout “Me too!!”

But shit , where did Ace find a man like that . He felt his resolve crumble. Now that he knew they were kindred spirits he suddenly felt awkward, like his false persona had been completely exposed from the start.

“Your menus,” Sanji stammered, offering the couple a pair of menus when they sat. The green haired man had his eyes fixed on Ace dreamily. Wow. Sanji was inexplicably jealous. He wanted something like that, to be able to go out with his man on a date in public with no shame, hell, just to have a date at all. Sanji turned away, letting the men enjoy each other’s company while they reviewed the menu.

“What the fuck are you doing Zoro?!” Ace whispered loudly.

“Ruining your plan,” replied the green-haired man nonchalantly.

“You saw the guy didn’t you? He’s totally you’re type isn’t he? Why would you ruin a chance like this just to spite me?! Are you that self-destructive?!” Ace was exasperated, bewildered, he had to get this guy’s act together.

True, the waiter was fine as hell, charming, funny, and adorable. But Zoro would be damned if Ace got away with his plan.

Sanji returned to the kitchen, a maddening flush splashed on his cheeks. What a perfect couple. Ugh. His heart ached. Sanji, the hopeless romantic, could only dream of something like that. If only he could get his head out of his ass and fess up to his true feeling when it came to guys!

Sanji returned to their table to take their orders to find an awkward atmosphere between them.

“Are you gentlemen ready to order?”

“Yes,” said Zoro with finality, closing the menu in front of him, “I’ll have a cup of matcha and an almond croissant. What about you, babe?”

Babe , Sanji felt a pang in his heart.

“Zoro, that’s enough,” Ace stated sternly, then looked up at Sanji with pleading, apologetic eyes, “Sanji, I’m sorry to drag you into this. We’re not dating.”

“What?” Sanji and Zoro both said at once, Sanji incredulously, Zoro with feigned indignation.

“Zoro’s just being stubborn because I brought him here to meet you.”

Sanji was reeling from the revelations. The perfect couple wasn’t a couple? Zoro was here to meet him ? That must mean… Ace knew ?? Sanji simply smiled to hide his utter bewilderment and nervousness.

“I’m sorry but I don’t follow.”

Ace sighed, “My friend is a lonely asocial bonehead who would rather pretend he’s dating me than have to figure out how to flirt with someone amazing like you.”

“ Ace !” Zoro growled, embarrassed.

Sanji merely smiled, brain on hold, and began operating on autopilot. “So a cup of matcha and an almond croissant, anything else?”

“Sanji..” Ace sobbed

“Ace you broke him,” muttered Zoro.

Ace studied the waiter before asking sheepishly, “Can I have the chocolate cheese cake…”

“One chocolate cheesecake coming right up!” Sanji confirmed with the same artificial smile plastered on his face.

What the hell is going on.

Sanji was so confused, his heart was racing, to be honest this was getting too complicated and he just wanted it to end. From what it sounded like, Ace was trying to set him up with Zoro, but how did ace know Sanji liked men in the first place? Oh god, was it that obvious? He had made every effort to appear as heterosexual as possible. But the good news was the incredibly sexy green-headed man was gay too, except, he had gone so far as to pretend he was with Ace to avoid flirting with Sanji. Oh god, everything was terrible.

“Sanji?” came a soft female voice, “are you okay?”

The baker came out of his agonized trance, “Oh, Carrot, sorry, just had something on my mind.”

Carrot frowned, “If your table is giving you trouble I can take it for you,” she suggested.

“Ah, no, it’s okay, I just have to bring them… what was it… what did they order? Oh right, matcha, croissant, cheesecake.” Sanji busied himself preparing and warming the items.

Ace and Zoro sat at the table arguing with each other under their breath,

“Look what you did, he’s so upset!”

“This was all your idea in the first place!”

“Yeah and it would have been fine if you didn’t pull that ridiculous stunt!”

“Shh he’s coming”

They both shut their mouths and looked at their hands shamefully when Sanji arrived wearing an awkward smile.

“Your matcha and almond croissant sir,” he said, placing a fragrant pastry and a warm cup of green frothy liquid in front of Zoro. “And your chocolate cheesecake,” he said presenting the tall, dark slice of cheesecake. “I hope you enjoy.”

The waiter walked off without continuing the conversation, and Ace and Zoro went back to their bickering under their breath, while stuffing their faces.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” “What was I supposed to say?”

“It’s so awkward now, we totally ruined that guy’s day.”

“No, you ruined it.”

“No, this was your idea, you ruined it.”

“Zoro, you have to leave him your number.”

“I what ?!” Zoro hissed.

“You like him right? You’ve gotta fix this weirdness, give him your number,” Ace insisted.

“Why?!? He probably doesn’t even like me! He must think we’re both complete freaks.”

“Just do it okay! I’ll pay for your shit, just leave him your number!”

“You owe me.”

“Just trust me on this, okay.”

The rest of the meal went by awkwardly. Ace paid for the pastries and Zoro took the pen and receipt, writing down his number deliberately.

Sanji was emotionally exhausted and flustered by the time the pair had left. He picked up the bill and was surprised to find a scribble of handwriting on it. The note was barely legible, but he could make out the words, “Sorry for being weird. Give me a chance? Zoro” followed by a phone number. Sanji blushed furiously. The sexy bastard left him his number, but what if this was another one of the man’s tricks? Oh- His life was agony!

Scrutinizing the number he found that… he couldn't read it. At all. It might have read 508-745-9922, but it also could have read 805-298-4477, or 505-248-9472, or literally any other combination of those numbers because somehow the 5’s looked like 8’s and the 4’s looked like 9’s and even the 7’s looked like 2’s. This was a disaster. This was definitely another trick. Life was despair, woe was he. 

“So did he call you?” Ace asked his friend eagerly.

“Nope.”

“A text?”

“Nothing.”

“Dammit.”

Zoro shrugged, this was nothing new. He was a scary looking guy, and didn’t exactly set off the average gay-dar, and he was also very asocial, so romance, chance encounters, and all of that bullshit never really worked out for him. He was a little disappointed though, he had to admit. The baker boy was beautiful, the almond croissant was the best girly pastry he’d ever had too. He had been tempted to go back to the bakery for a second chance, but the embarrassment and the possibility that the blonde wasn’t interested in him were too much for him to handle.

“Let’s go drinking tonight,” the dark-haired man suggested, “There’s this new bar that’s supposed to have lots of different craft beer.”

Zoro groaned, “bars are too expensive, I’d rather do my drinking at home.”

“That’s because you’re an antisocial alcoholic.”

“Am not.”

Tonight was like any other night at the bar. As the hours grew later, Sanji’s guests grew rowdier. Fortunately this was a rather upscale bar, so he didn’t have to deal with terribly unsavory characters, but his customers were still a handful.

Just past midnight a couple more guests showed up at the bar, Sanji glanced over only to see a familiar face.

“You!” he declared, pointing at Ace.

“You!” replied ace, pointing back as per their usual antics.

“You!” said Sanji again, now noticing the green haired man.

“Uh….” Zoro wasn’t sure how to proceed with this.

“Sanji, I had no idea you worked here,” Ace smiled.

Sanji wasn’t sure if he was happy or not seeing the two clowns that had thoroughly messed with his head on their last meeting, but he replied cordially, “yeah, it’s a new gig.”

“Zoro aren’t you lucky,” Ace jabbed Zoro in the ribs, “Sanji, he was just dying to see you again.”

“Shut up,” Zoro said looking away to hide the flush on his cheeks.

Sanji couldn’t tell if Ace was being serious or not, but he felt his heart jump into his throat at seeing Zoro again. His brain went back on autopilot and he asked them what they’d have to drink.

Ace looked up at the specials list, “does that say mead ?” he asked in awe.

“Why yes it does! It’s a local brew with some citrus notes, it’s very refreshing,” replied Sanji.

“I’ll have that, but damn Sanji, you’re a cook and a bartender, you can do it all,” Ace winked, “makes me wish I was single.”

Sanji flushed, quickly turning to prepare the man’s drink. “Ace, you’re in a relationship?” He asked, turning back and handing the drink to Ace, then asking in a quiet voice, “and how did you even know that I’m… you know…”

Ace winked and tapped at his temple, “I’ve got the magic eye. Homo-vision. No one can slip through. Not even this guy,” he gestured towards the green haired man to his right who certainly didn’t set off Sanji’s own perceptive gay-dar. “And my man should be coming by after he gets off work,” he smiled a giddy smile.

The bartender turned nervously towards the quiet and attractive green haired man, “Zoro, right? Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Beer,” he answered simply.

Sanji made an awkward laugh, “We offer over two dozen different beers here… what kind of beer do you like?”

Zoro frowned, “strong.”

This man was funny. “Do you like IPA’s? Stouts? Do you like them smooth or hoppy?”

The green man’s brow creased, he’d never had to think this hard about beer before.

“Why don’t you have one of the tasting trays? I’ll choose five for you to try,” suggested Sanji.

Zoro grunted in agreement, still unable to meet the man’s face.

“Zoro you’re acting so shy, this isn’t like you,” Ace whispered to his friend.

“I’m talking to a guy that didn’t call me after I gave him my number! It’s awkward!” he hissed back.

Sanji returned with a wooden tray holding five small glasses filled with amber liquid, some a very dark chocolatey color, others a light honey color.

“Try this one first,” the bartender offered, handing his guest the lightest colored beverage. “That’s a pale summer ale, very hoppy, with lemon and subtle ginger undertones.”

Zoro took a large swallow, raising his eyebrows at the bright, refreshing taste. “Oh, I like it.”

“Great!” Sanji smiled a warm, genuine smile that sent Zoro’s heart a flutter. “Let’s try this one next, here we have an amber ale, it has a more malty flavor and might have a slightly sweet, caramel touch.”

“Oh, I like this too.”

Sanji laughed, “Okay try this one,” the bartender was getting into this, he loved watching people enjoy food and drink, and this moss-head seemed to enjoy everything. “This one is a bavarian dark lager, much more smooth, dry, and strong, with a slight nuttiness and subtle vanilla notes.”

“Ah, this one’s really good.” Zoro smiled. He finally looked up and met the bartender’s eyes. They were a beautiful blue that looked almost violet in the warm lighting of the bar.

“Three for three so far, I’m on a roll,” Sanji ginned, steadying his heart from meeting the handsome man’s eyes, “Now try this, it’s an oatmeal stout with coffee and chocolate notes.”

“Mm, I taste the chocolate,” Zoro was really getting into this, and he was beginning to feel more comfortable around the attractive bartender.

“Lastly we have an imperial porter,” Sanji handed the man the darkest of the beers, “it’s made with roasted barley and has a nice smokey flavor.”

“Wow, that’s nice,” Zoro nodded appreciatively. He went back and finished off each one with satisfaction.

“Which one was your favorite?” the bartender asked.

Zoro pondered, “hmm… Probably the last one, it was the strongest,” he laughed and ran his hand through his hair. “What’s your favorite?”

Sanji smiled, “I also like the porter, it’s more like a wine than a beer, strong, smooth, I like the ones with chocolate and coffee notes too. I’m not as much a fan of IPA’s and very bitter beers.”

Zoro nodded though he really wasn’t familiar with the different names.

Ace had been watching the exchange with a smug grin while he sipped his mead with great satisfaction. When his phone buzzed he looked down to see that his date had arrived. Looking around, he spotted the man with a bright blond tuft of hair on top of his head and lazy, sensual eyes that stopped Ace’s heart every time he looked in them.

“Marco!” The dark haired man swung off his seat and into his lover’s arms shamelessly. Sanji looked on in surprise and thinly veiled envy.

Now this is the perfect couple, the bartender thought.

Glancing back at his friends, Ace grinned devilishly and said, “give us a moment, we’ll be right back” before waltzing off, Marco’s arm wrapped around his waist.

“Ugh, they’re probably gonna go make out in a corner,” Zoro muttered.

“I think it’s rather sweet,” Sanji admitted. Zoro looked away and blushed.

After a pause, Zoro finally asked the question that had been weighing heavily on him, “you… didn’t call.”

Sanji laughed cynically, to the green-haired man’s dismay. He slipped his hand into his pocket pulling out a piece of paper and slamming it on the bar, catching Zoro’s attention immediately.

“What the fuck is this?”

Zoro glanced down at the crumpled receipt in surprise. It was the same receipt from a week before, with his handwriting and phone number scrawled across it. He flushed, and defensively declared, “it’s my number, dumbass.”

“Oh, is that what it was, I couldn’t tell because the penmanship looked like it was scribbled by a drunken gorilla.”

“Huh?” Zoro growled.

“How is it possible for your fives to look like eights, your fours to look like nines, and your sevens to look like twos? I swear I thought this was another dirty prank you moss-brained shithead.”

Zoro’s mouth was agape at the bartender’s 180 in personality, then the corner of his mouth quirked into a snicker. “Tsundere,” he chuckled.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing.”

“What did you call me?”

The green haired man grinned, “nothing at all.”

Before the argument could continue, Marco and Ace returned, lips more red and puffy than before.

“Sanji, meet Marco, Marco, this is that waiter I was telling you about,” Ace said with a wink.

Marco smiled in recognition, offering the bartender a handshake. The couple noticed that Zoro and Sanji were intentionally avoiding each other’s eyes, and he looked to the bartender with concern.

“What’s tsundere?” Sanji asked, turning so that his body was facing away from Zoro to ignore him.

Ace laughed, “Did he call you that? He’s whipping out the Japanese already.”

“It’s Japanese?”

“Yeah, I think it means a person who acts hostile and cold towards people because they’re afraid to show affection.”

Sanji’s face went red, his eyes flicked towards the man with green hair with rage, only to notice that he was wearing a smug smirk.

“Well what’s the term for a boneheaded peabrain with grass growing out of his skull who can’t even legibly write his own number?” fumed the barkeep.

Marco laughed, “I think that’s called a ‘Zoro.’”

The green haired man glared at the older man, crossing his arms and saying, “Better than being a pineapple head.”

At this they all laughed and Ace quipped, “I love pineapple.”

Marco grinned, “Well this pineapple head want’s to take his handsome date home for the night, so if you’ll excuse us,” he stood up to pay his tab, leaving Zoro with a surprised expression.

“You guys are leaving?” Zoro asked.

Ace winked, “I think you’ve got this covered on your own.”

Zoro frowned with uncertainty.

Sanji tended to the rest of his customers while Zoro sat alone at the bar. When Sanji returned he chanced a question, “so how late are you working tonight?”

The bartender flushed again, which was doing a devastating number to Zoro’s heart. “I’m closing up tonight at two AM.”

Zoro sighed, leaning back and feigning reluctance, “guess I just have to hang out for another hour.”

The bartender’s heart skipped a beat and he looked down, “Just don’t scare off the customers.”

“I can’t make any promises, there’s no saying what I might do if someone else makes a move on you.”

Turning away to hide the wildfire spreading across his cheeks, Sanji said, “I can take care of myself, shit head!” then slammed another beer down in front of the green-haired man, “It’s not like I want you here.”

Zoro smirked, taking the beer which he hadn’t ordered and muttered, “tsundere.”

The drunken customers slowly trickled out of the bar until it was only the two of them, Sanji printing out receipts, cashing out and cleaning up, and Zoro sitting at the bar, sipping at his third beer. The bartender seemed to have relaxed now that the crowd of customers was gone.

“My tab,” he finally said, sliding his credit card across the bar and towards the bartender who was facing away from him.

Sanji turned, placed his hand over the card and slid it back, “It’s on the house, shithead,” he said cooly.

Zoro looked back with surprise, and then a grateful smile, “aren’t you generous.”

“Shut up, I was afraid that lawn on your head would dry out if I didn’t keep watering it.”

Zoro laughed.

“Actually, here, I want you to try this,” Sanji’s expression changed and he prepared a small liquor glass and pulled a bottle off the shelf behind him, “You’re Japanese right? We just got this, tell me if it’s any good, it’s plum wine.” The bartender was excitedly pouring a sip of the liquor into the glass.

Zoro took, “Ume-shu?” he said curiously, then sipped it, “yep, that’s the stuff. This one is nice, it’s not overly sweet.”

Sanji beamed, pulling another bottle down, “Okay try this,” he offered, pouring a sip of another.

“ Wow , that’s like… fancy fire water,” Zoro laughed, feeling a very pleasant burning sensation in his throat.

“It is! It’s a digestif, Eau de Vie which means the water of life. You’re supposed to drink it after a meal to help you digest. It’s a strong infusion of fruit and herbs.”

“I’m learning so much about alcohol today. Are you trying to get me drunk?”

Sanji laughed, “You don’t look like the alcohol has even phased you.”

“Nope. Liver of steel.” Zoro grinned, patting his toned stomach. “You almost done?”

“Just finishing up,” the bartender said, suddenly feeling a rush of nervousness. He hadn’t spent time with another person outside of work in ages, and he honestly wasn’t even sure how to compose himself in a normal setting. Would Zoro think he was awkward? Hopefully he’s had enough alcohol not to care…

When the register was cashed out and the bar wiped down, Sanji pulled off his apron and finally walked around to the front of the bar to meet Zoro. Under the apron he had been wearing a slim fitting navy button down with a black vest that complimented his lean body. Zoro couldn’t stop his eyes from travelling up and down and back up the bartender’s attractive build, and he was feeling slightly giddy from the alcohol, though nowhere near drunk.

Zoro stood, strode over to Sanji and looped a finger into the top of his vest, pulling slightly. Sanji looked down at the invading hand, and when he looked back up Zoro’s face was close, breathing softly on his lips. He could feel the heat radiating from Zoro’s face and onto his burning cheeks, his heart was pounding out of his chest. A second hand slid around the back of his neck and into his hair sending a shiver up his spine and an electric jolt to his stomach. Zoro tilted his head slightly to bring their faces closer and whispered, “Can I?”

Sanji answered by closing the distance between them with ardour, pressing his lips into the other, rougher ones, wrapping his arms around the strong man’s muscular torso and stood there still, savoring the feeling of lips pressed against lips, body against body, like he’d longed for so desperately.

Zoro’s heart was racing out of his chest. He wasn’t a suave or sensual guy, but he was straight forward and to the point, and when he wanted something, and the moment was right, he went for it, no matter how much his awkward, antisocial psyche tried to restrain him. The bartender kissed back. All the little doubts that lingered in his mind had cleared like the sky after a storm, and he felt perfectly elated. Sanji’s slender body and soft lips were on him. The reality of the moment was sealed sweetly by the unmoving pressure of the gentle kiss. Clenching his hand tighter in Sanji’s hair, he opened his mouth to lick and suck at Sanji’s lips, which responded by doing the same, and soon they were moving like two crashing waves melting into each other. Their natural chemistry was harmonious, as if their bodies were vibrating at the same frequency, the intensity and perfection of it almost overwhelming. Zoro slid his hands down Sanji’s body hungrily and planted a firm grasp on his hips, then lifted him suddenly, which elicited a small cry from the bartender, who was sat down on his bar like a drink to be served. Zoro kissed him fervidly, leaving his lips to plant a trail of open-mouthed kissed along Sanji’s jaw and down his neck, sucking at the crook of his collar bone. The blonde let out a soft moan, trailing his fingers up and down the rippling muscles of Zoro’s back with desire before nestling them in the soft green hair.

“Zoro, take me home.”

[kenbunshokus]

come on, come on (turn a little faster)

zoro/sanji | 4.5k words

Step One: confession. Step Two: get together. Step Three: act like a couple in public.

Zoro and Sanji are never good with following instructions. Or, the one where everyone thinks they’re dating, Sanji is oblivious, and Zoro takes everything in stride. Sometimes a love story can go in reverse.

(ao3)

this work is commissioned by anonymous; if you’re interested in that, i still have a slot open.

+

1.

Like most troublesome, headache-inducing things that happen to Sanji, it starts with a bored Luffy.

They’re in the galley, and Luffy is sprawled face-first on the dining table, head swollen from a recent kick from Sanji. Sanji is still riding on high from having thwarted Luffy’s attempt for Snack Before the Snack Before Lunch, so he doesn’t expect Luffy’s innocent, “why do you and Zoro don’t kiss like most couples do?

It’s a blessing for the crew that Sanji is such a professional, because otherwise he would have dropped the rice balls he is making.

He whips his head towards Luffy. “What?”

“Just wondering, is all,” Luffy says to the table, oblivious to Sanji’s shocked confusion. “Ace told me about it before, how couples should kiss and hold hands and stuff.”

Sanji doesn’t even know where to start with that, and his brain is not exactly equipped for this kind of conversation with Luffy—out of all people—so he decides to return to the rice balls on the pantry. Salmon for Usopp, Sea King meat for Zoro…

He sighs. “Zoro and I,” he begins, just as the door opens.

Zoro strides into the galley like he owns the place, arching his eyebrow. “You and I?”

He feels Zoro stand behind him, and soon enough, Zoro’s left hand shoots over Sanji’s shoulder, snatching one of the rice balls. His other hand is on the pantry, right beside Sanji’s hip.

Sanji lets him take the food, feeling generous for once. He’s almost done, anyways. “Go ask Luffy, he’s the one with the stupid questions.”

Zoro turns to face Luffy, but doesn’t step away from Sanji. Their shoulders brush against each other.

Luffy sits up and looks at them with a rare, serious expression. Before either of them can ask if anything’s wrong, though, Luffy picks his nose, goes, “never mind,” and strolls out of the galley.

Zoro watches their captain go as he reaches for another ball of rice. “What’s with him?”

That was one more rice ball than Sanji is feeling generous for, so he swings his leg. Zoro blocks the kick with practiced ease, as expected, but he seems to have gotten the message loud and clear, because he drops the rice back onto the plate. He still doesn’t step away.

“No idea,” Sanji says, and doesn’t step away, either. If Zoro doesn’t back down, neither will he.

+

2.

Sanji immediately forgets all about it because it’s Luffy and he has long learned that trying to understand how Luffy’s mind works is a futile endeavor, so it throws him completely off guard when a beautiful girl from a flower stand waves at him and says, “We have just the right flowers for your boyfriend.”

“Excuse me?” Sanji asks, tone surprised but polite, because he wasn’t raised wrong like a certain green-haired oaf he’s currently doing a supply run with.

“Your boyfriend, you know,” the lady winks, and in a terrible, horrifying turn of events, gestures at the very oaf-slash-pack mule standing a few meters away from him. “The swordsman,” she clarifies.

What the fuck makes you think we’re dating, are you fucking blind is Sanji’s initial gut reaction, but—he feels like reiterating—he wasn’t raised wrong like a certain green-haired oaf who thinks it’s okay to argue with women and their eternally wise insights, so instead he says, “No, thank you, miss.”

He walks away before the girl can say more… misguided things, and grabs Zoro by the arm. “We’re leaving.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, cook,” Zoro says, but he lets Sanji lead him through the crowd. Sanji keeps a secure grip on Zoro’s arm throughout the way. Zoro might get lost, you see, and then Sanji has to spend hours looking for him throughout the island. Wouldn’t be the first time that happens. 

Sanji’s hand tightens around Zoro’s arm, and he ignores the way it almost mimics the sudden tightness that runs through his chest from the touch.

+

3.

It’s been a week and they have long sailed away from that island, but the conversation still bothers the fuck out of Sanji, so he goes to Usopp’s workshop. It pains him to admit, but this is something he can’t talk about with the girls (regardless of how wonderful and smart they are), and Usopp might be full of shit but he’s a good friend, and sometimes he says the exact things Sanji wants to hear, so. 

“When the fuck did I start dating Zoro?” He asks as he steps into the room.

Usopp doesn’t even bother to look up from his new invention. “Did you forget your anniversary or something?”

Definitely not the things Sanji wanted to hear. “Did I forget my—no, that was a rhetorical question, I didn’t forget my anniversary because we were never dating!”

“Very funny, Sanji,” Usopp says. When Sanji doesn’t reply in favor of having a heart attack and an aneurysm at the same time, Usopp finally tears his eyes away from his workbench and frowns. “…wait, really?” 

Sanji takes every good thing he has said about Usopp back. Usopp is full of shit, period . “Really! Why would I lie about this?”

“I don’t know! I mean, you and Zoro,” Usopp says, and visibly inches away when he sees how quickly Sanji’s face sours. “You two have this, this thing going on, so we’ve always thought—” 

“‘We’?!” Sanji zeroes in, because there are so many things wrong in that sentence that the only way to maintain his feeble grasp on sanity is to tackle it word by word.

“Royal ‘we’!” Usopp squeaks. “Just, the general we, no-one-specific we, actually, I’ve caught the ‘I-Can-Only-Use-the-Pronoun-We’ sickness in the last island—”

“Cook!” A voice from the deck interrupts Usopp’s rambling. Sanji would recognize that annoying voice even with both ears plugged. In his sleep.

“Shut up! I’m in the middle of something important, Marimo!” He shouts back. There’s a loud thump from the deck in place of a civilized reply because Zoro is a brute, and Sanji groans and adds, “fine, I’m coming!” 

“I want five!” Zoro shouts.

“Three!” Sanji fires back, and then grumbles under his breath, “ungrateful bastard, who the fuck even eats five spring rolls during snack time? Still had the gall to ask for drinks on top of that! One day I’ll put saltwater inside his stupid mug and he’ll finally beg me for mercy…” 

When he turns back to Usopp, the we’re not done yet dies in his lips as Usopp gives him a funny look.  

Sanji squirms under the scrutiny. “What?” 

“You got all that just from ‘I want five’ and a thump?”

Sanji huffs. “It’s Zoro. That idiot can only speak in caveman language. I’m just smart enough to interpret his stupid grunts.” 

The funny look doesn’t disappear from Usopp’s face, and it’s sort of pissing Sanji off. “Yeah. Sure.” 

Sanji opens his mouth to disagree with whatever the hell Usopp is implying, but Zoro’s thump evolves into a bang, and he shouts, “If you smash the deck again I hope Franky kills you this time!” 

He stomps out of the workshop, Usopp forgotten.

+

4. 

There’s a group of marines sitting a few tables away, and Sanji has a feeling that they’re beginning to recognize him. 

They aren’t exactly subtle about it; they are all looking down at the same paper, presumably Sanji’s bounty poster, and a couple of them start pointing and gesturing at his table. Amateurs, Sanji thinks. 

Sanji takes another gulp of his drink and listens in on their conversation, just in case. He can take them all down in his sleep, of course, but he would rather not do it in the middle of a crowded bar when others can get unnecessarily drawn into the fight and injured. He’d leave when it looks like they’re about to take action.

“It’s Black Leg, I’m sure,” he overhears one of them say. 

“One hundred and seventy-seven million berries,” another chimes in, obviously excited. “Even split five ways, we could each get thirty-five. We should go for it; I think we can all handle a below two-hundred.” 

Sanji feels a vein popped up on his forehead. He is ready to stand up and show them what it’s truly like to face someone with his grossly undervalued bounty, when one of the marines suddenly says, “no, are you crazy, haven’t you heard of the rumors?” 

Sanji pauses. Interesting. Is there some cool rumor surrounding him? Is it about how terrifying his kicks are? Or maybe it’s about how his observation haki is so amazing nobody can even touch him— 

“If you go after Black Leg,” the marine elaborates, “his boyfriend is going to come and get you.”

Sanji’s brain short-circuits. 

“His boyfriend?” another pipes in, oblivious to Sanji’s breakdown. “Are you talking about Pirate Hunter Zoro?” 

What the fuck? 

“Yeah!” The first marine searches his pocket, and pulls out another poster, most probably Zoro’s. “Look at how terrifying he is! Three hundred and twenty million berries! We won’t win against him.” 

Oh, that was it. They’re fucking dead. 

Sanji haphazardly throws throws payment for his drinks at the bar, takes large strides towards the marine and slams his foot against their table. The wooden table cracks and crumbles into pieces at the impact with a loud bang, and the whole room goes quiet. 

“Heard some familiar names being thrown around,” he says, lips stretched into a humorless, feral grin. He cracks his neck as the marines scramble to their feet in panic, a fruitless attempt to run away from him. Sanji takes several steps towards them as his legs start to catch on fire. “Only beautiful ladies are allowed to say my name.” 

Sanji is no longer welcome to that bar.

+

5. 

“So, Cook-Bro, when did you two get together?” 

Sanji’s hand slips, swinging his hammer down a little too hard, and the wooden block he’s helping Franky nail snaps into two. “Who?” 

“You and Zoro-san, obviously,” Brook chimes in when it’s clear Franky won’t answer, grumbling about ‘monster strength’ and ‘too many broken blocks.’ Brook, who’s also been helping on the restoration of the crow’s nest after a particularly nasty storm yesterday, starts laughing. “I would imagine the two of you have spent so much time consummating your relationship on this very spot, and we simply got curious.”

There are...so many factual inaccuracies in that statement that Sanji is actually impressed by his crewmates’ imagination.

“What the shit?” He says, trying to laugh it off. “You’re joking, right?” 

Franky and Brook visibly freeze. Pausing from their respective work, they turn, slowly, giving Sanji twin bewildered stares before looking at each other. 

“Forgive me if I was wrong, Sanji-san,” Brook begins, twirling his bony fingers together as he carefully says, “but I’ve always thought I simply missed the beginning of your and Zoro-san’s love story, seeing that I joined the crew a little bit later than everyone else.”

“Yeah, same with me, actually,” Franky says, and he’s staring at Sanji like he’s looking at the man for the first time in his life. “I mean, when I joined, you and Zoro-bro were already,” he flips up his sunglasses and frowns at Sanji. “You know ,” he says conspiratorially. 

“I don’t know,” Sanji says, because what the hell, he doesn’t . When did this even begin? He always thought that the whole incident with the marines was just one of those ridiculous marine rumors, in the same vein of people thinking Robin can kill people with a wink and Shanks secretly has twenty different wives hidden in East Blue. Tall tales of people with high bounties aren’t exactly a new concept. 

But then he remembers his exchange with Usopp, and that one conversation he had with Luffy in the galley, and the beautiful flower lady a few islands ago, and fuck, holy fuck, this is a thing , isn’t it? Is this what everyone has been thinking the whole time? Is this what the ladies have been thinking the whole time ?

That he’s been, what, banging the marimo? 

He tries to school his expression into something resembling a smile, his jaws clenching a little. “Me and that Marimo aren’t a thing,” he explains. 

“Really?” Brook asks, and he sounds so genuinely disappointed that it almost makes Sanji feel bad. Almost. “Not at all?”

Sanji grits his teeth. “I think I would know.” 

“So you and Zoro-bro aren’t,” Franky says, and his hands make a horrifyingly obscene gesture, made worse by the fact that Franky’s hands are the size of Sanji’s head each. “Doing this?”

“No,” Sanji says flatly. He gets the vague impression that he’s just figured out the existence of a new level of hell, and his crewmates are the gatekeepers.

+

6.

Zoro steps out of the dressing room wearing the most mismatched outfits Sanji has ever laid his eyes upon—a green tie on a purple suit and, with an orange dress suit underneath. Zoro’s pants are bright yellow. Sanji thinks he just got a minor headache from the sight alone. 

“Happy?” Zoro grumbles, clearly irritated by the whole proceeding. 

“Are you colorblind?” Sanji says in place of an answer, and starts shoving him back towards the dressing room. “Never mind, don’t answer that, I don’t want to know. Just let me pick the clothes for you already.” 

“You always pick the expensive ones,” Zoro protests.

“No I don’t, you’re just poor,” Sanji argues back. “Listen, I want this to end just as quickly as you do, so stay inside, be nice, and wear whatever I tell you to wear. Don’t worry, Nami-san is always generous enough to lend you some berries for the clothes. 

“That’s because she’s trying to rip me off,” Zoro shouts back from inside the room, but Sanji refuses to acknowledge such preposterous accusation towards a queen like Nami. He opts to start picking clothes instead, making sure they’re of the right size for Zoro’s stupidly overtrained muscles, and throws the whole thing into the room. 

When Zoro walks out of it this time, he is decidedly more...presentable. In white dress shirt, black tie and dark green vest, the mosshead doesn’t seem like he’s trying to blind every person who has had the misfortune of seeing him anymore. Sanji could even say he’s...handsome. 

In, like, a friend-way. 

Super platonic. 

This whole thing is a mess . 

He decides to distract himself from that dangerous train of thoughts by dramatically pointing at Zoro’s tie, groaning, “eugh, do you even know how to tie a tie?” 

Zoro crosses his arms indignantly. “Of course I do,” he says. And then, when Sanji simply stares at him skeptically, amends, “not really, but I made some guesses. It wasn’t that hard.”

Disgusting. Downright barbaric . Sanji doesn’t know what he expected from such an uncultured brute.

He walks right into Zoro’s personal space and starts fixing his tie, grumbling, “why do I have to do everything,” and Zoro lets him, body leaning slightly into Sanji to give him better access, contrasting the way his arms are still crossed in a stubborn pose. 

Just as Zoro goes off to pay (with Nami’s money that Sanji will make sure he’ll pay back), one of the shop attendants walks up to Sanji and starts giggling. “It’s so cute to see your boyfriend let you pick his clothes for him,” she says without preamble, “oh, what I’d give to have my girlfriend let me pick her clothes for her. Her fashion sense is so terrible too.” 

It takes a couple of seconds for him to realize what the girl means. “No, no,” he immediately says when what she’s implying finally dawns on him, “you’re getting this wrong, my dear.” 

She continues to giggle. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell him,” she says, and winks at him. “If he asks, he totally picked those clothes by himself.”

Sanji feels like he’s going to cry, and he mutters to himself, “I should’ve let that stupid Marimo wear those ugly clothes.”

The girl clasps her hands together excitedly. “Oh, I feel that too!” she says cheerfully, completely missing the point, “we all have a soft spot for our significant other, including their bad fashion decisions.” 

When Zoro finally returns from the cashier, Sanji kicks him in the shin just because he can.

+

 7.

The clothing store incident was the last straw, because, well. Sanji can handle people thinking that he and Zoro are banging—physical attractions between crew members aren’t exactly unheard of for pirates, and Zoro isn’t exactly bad-looking. Not that Sanji is actually having sex with Zoro on the regular, of course. Never even crossed his mind, really. Except that one time, at that one summer island, but it must have been the heat. 

The point is, Sanji can handle raunchy, sex rumors. But it’s a whole different ball game when people think he and Zoro are—he shudders at the thought—in love. 

So before Sanji could second guess his own decisions, he forces himself to confront the ladies. He finds them lounging under the mikan trees, and he half-hops towards them, a tray of drinks balanced carefully on his left hand.

There isn’t a good way to lead up to the question, so he blurts, “do you think Zoro and I are dating?” 

There’s a pause. 

And then, Robin turns to Nami and says, with a little smile, “it seems our bet has come to an end in my favor.” 

“Damn it!” Nami exclaims, pulling out some bills from her pocket. “I was so sure he wouldn’t catch on for a couple more months.” 

This isn’t happening, Sanji thinks despairingly as he, in horror, watches Nami reluctantly handing the money over to a smiling Robin. I am dreaming and this is a nightmare . “Nami-san. Robin-chan,” he says, because he thinks he’s going to burst into tears if he tries to say something else. 

“Oh, yeah, you and Zoro,” Nami turns to him, almost like she’s forgotten about him in favor of mourning the loss of her money, which is probably true. “You two are dating, no question about that.” 

“Nami- san ,” he says, voice raising a few notches higher. “Zoro and I aren’t sleeping together.”

“We didn’t exactly say anything about sexual intercourse,” Robin points out, and Sanji never imagined this is how he’d get Robin to finally talk about sex; his imagination usually involved much less clothing and even fewer mentions of Zoro. Somewhere around the value of zero mentions, in a perfect world. 

Sanji does not live in a perfect world. 

“You take care of him, he has your back in a fight,” Nami adds. “Whenever you two are in the same room it’s like everyone else stops existing.” 

“That’s not true,” Sanji argues, but the argument sounds weak, even to himself.

Nami gives him a flat look. “You guys were playing footsies under the table when we went to that food stall in the last island.”

“It was a manly feet competition ,” Sanji sputters. “That I was winning .” He also can’t help adding, just because. 

Both Robin and Nami give him sad, identical looks that makes Sanji feel like he’s one of those pitiful dishes he made when he was eleven that adults pretended to like, and Sanji resists the urge to throw himself overboard. 

The girls then turn to each other and have one of those silent conversations they usually have when any of their male crewmembers starts doing something particularly stupid, which involves a lot of eyebrow raising and pitying looks. Sanji prides himself of rarely being at the ends of that look, but as always, Zoro is making that feat increasingly difficult to maintain.

It’s Nami who finally turns back towards Sanji and suggests, “if you’re so unsure about it, why dont u just ask Zoro?” 

And that’s...well. 

Before Sanji’s brain can fully process Nami’s question and the incoming headache it seems to cause, Robin smiles and says, “I’m sure Zoro will be happy to explain.” 

Sanji possess a healthy amount of respect for women that is far from fear, but in that moment, there may have a been some chills running down his spine.

“Thank you for the drink, Sanji-kun,” Nami says with a sip from her cup, signalling the end of their conversation.

+

8. 

Sanji is a smart, calm, and rational decision-maker, so clearly the first thing he does is file the whole thing into a neat little box in his head, pack it all up, and pretend nothing ever happened.

He admits he isn’t very good with the last part; it’s only been a week since the disaster of a conversation with the ladies, and he’s already caught himself avoiding Zoro multiple times. The swordsman clearly notices, and it’s almost impressive how the man can wear a flat expression and still exude the aura of kicked puppy every time Sanji looks away whenever their eyes accidentally meet across the room. 

Not that Sanji would ever equate Zoro to a puppy. That would be an insult to the entire canine species.

“Is that our afternoon snack today, Sanji?” Chopper asks, his tiny head peering over the counter, eyes wide and practically sparkling at the macaroons on the counter. 

Sanji looks up from a neatly stacked tower, arranged in order of color wheel and size because he strives for nothing short of perfection. There are only eight towers, though, and Chopper, ever observant, quickly notices.

Chopper tilts his head. “Did you not make any for yourself?”

Sanji shakes his head and shrugs at the baking tray left at the kitchen counter. “The ones for the Marimo isn’t done; I made his a little bit different from everyone else because he doesn’t like sweets.” 

Chopper breaks into a smile at that. “That’s really thoughtful of you, Sanji! Zoro would definitely appreciate it!”

Zoro’s taste buds have not advanced past the level of a starfish’s so Sanji doubts the brute would even notice, but you don’t exactly disagree with the bundle of joy that is Chopper. “Sure.” 

He takes a little bite from another batch, testing its taste. It dawns on him that his earlier agreement might come across as a special gesture for Zoro, so he rushes to add, “not that it’s anything special, really. I do this all the time for everyone, including you, Chopper.”

Chopper nods, once again distracted by the colorful treats, but Sanji still feels the need to continue, “and anyways, I guess I just want to make things even, you know? He bought me this really ugly tie, and I…” 

He trails off, and absentmindedly touches the tie he’s wearing. It’s a gift, which Zoro bought him for no reason when they went on a walk together in the last island. They do it more often than he’s willing to admit, sometimes under the guise of Zoro being a pack mule for Sanji’s supply run. And Zoro always pays for the food they get afterwards, because there’s no way Sanji is paying when Zoro’s the one picking the shitty restaurant, and they have dinner together and bicker over the candlelit table, their knees almost touching underneath— 

“Oh, shit,” Sanji curses, hand still hovering around the tie from Zoro, resting above his heart. The neat little box in his head is spilling all over. “That was a date.”

+

9. 

He finds Zoro at the crow’s nest. 

The swordsman is lifting a weight the size of Little Merry, which is totally an overcompensation for something , but thinking about Zoro’s dick in this situation isn’t exactly helpful so Sanji tries his best to ignore it.

He slumps down at one of the benches, and Zoro ignores him for the most part. 

“Are we dating?” He asks after a long pause. 

Zoro doesn’t even miss a beat, that asshole. “Huh. those girls are right. Never thought you’d ever catch on, cook.” 

Sanji scowls. “What do you take me for?” He says, as if he didn’t just figure this out a few hours ago. “An idiot?” 

Zoro doesn’t answer and opts to pause with his training and give him a look, which is an answer in and of itself, really. 

It's not the time for a fight, though, so Sanji makes a vague gesture at the empty space beside him, and his… boyfriend, apparently, what the fuck—takes a seat beside him. 

He takes a long drag from his cigarette because he feels like swallowing his arm whole. “What were you going to do?” He asks. “If i never...you know.”

Zoro shrugs. His expression is unreadable. “Probably nothing,” the swordsman says. “I like what we have, cook. I wasn’t going to ruin it.”

The word bothers Sanji more than he expected it would. “Ruin it?” He echoes. 

Zoro sighs. “I knew you were going to freak out.” 

“What? No.” Sanji scoffs. Or tries to. It somehow comes out more like the sound a drowning chicken makes. “What? No .” 

Zoro narrows his eye at him. “You’re literally freaking out right now.” 

“I’m not freaking out, ” Sanji half-yells, which is probably a clear sign that he’s freaking the fuck out, so, okay, maybe a little bit. Just a teensy tiny bit. 

Zoro smirks at his reaction, and oh, fuck, now that Sanji knows where to look, Zoro’s smile actually looks fond . “It’s not like you’re going anywhere, you know?” Zoro explains. “And when this whole thing ends, I can just follow you, stay at whatever stupid restaurant you’re going to build in All Blue.” 

Zoro smiles, at that, soft and barely-there but touches his eyes nonetheless. It sends a weird warmth, spreading through Sanji’s chest. “I know I can,” he says, and, “I know you’ll let me.” 

The words knock a breath out of Sanji. The trust, pressed in between every syllable, is loud and clear—for Zoro, to believe wholeheartedly in Sanji’s dream like it was his own, in the existence of the All Blue. And for Zoro, who was ready to die for his own dream, to actually think of what is coming after. To have Sanji be a part of it.

Zoro must have taken Sanji’s dumbstruck silence the wrong way, though, because for the first time since the conversation started, there’s a flash of uncertainty across his expression. 

“Listen, cook, you don’t have to—” Zoro looks away, and rubs the back of his neck in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture. “I don’t need you to love me back. What we have, it’s good enough for me. We don’t have to call it anything if you don’t want me to.”

And that finally got Sanji to speak up, because the mosshead cannot be more wrong, and Sanji never passes up the opportunity to point out Zoro’s mistakes. So he puts out his cigarette and says, “shut up. Shut up.”

Zoro goes quiet and stares at him. Okay, so he can look like a cute puppy. Sometimes. The cute part is still arguable.

“Stop assuming everything shithead,” Sanji jabs his finger at Zoro’s chest. “I just found out that not only I’m dating a shitty swordsman, I’m also apparently in love with him, and that’s all you have to say?” 

Sanji waits for the words to sink in, and he watches Zoro’s face break into a slow-starting smile. It erases the hard edges of his expression, makes him look younger, and Sanji thinks he’s a little in love with it.

He’s kind of a little in love with everything about Zoro, really. That’s part of this whole dating thing, he’s been told.

“Cook,” Zoro says, and he looks like he’s stumbling with his words, because he pauses, and corrects himself, “Sanji. I’m going to kiss you now.” 

Sanji doesn’t need to be told twice and closes the distance between them.

+

10. 

“Oi,” Zoro says after they pull away, blunt and straightforward and so very Zoro . “Can we do that again?” 

Sanji laughs, and pulls Zoro into another kiss. “We’re dating, dumbass. Of course.”