Zoro was in love with Sanji’s knees.
It was stupid, and ridiculous, and Zoro wanted to scrub his brain out, but it didn’t stop the fact that he was in love with Sanji’s knees.
Sanji’s knees weren’t even that nice looking. They were knobby, pale, scarred, and had sparse hair sticking out of them in random spots. The tendons on the backs of his knees stood out, bracketing either side. The thick muscles of his thighs and calves made his knees appear puny in comparison. They were knees, damn it. He didn’t even like things like that.
Maybe it was because Sanji wore trousers nearly all the time. Zoro had seen him changing from damaged clothing to new clothing to pajamas to a towel and back again, and those knees hadn’t stood out. But ever since Skypiea, when Sanji had worn shorts for the first time they’d been sailing together, Zoro had fallen for a set of knees.
He was losing his mind.
Sanji was wearing shorts again, at Egghead Island, when they met up on the ship. He was also wearing the stupid tall boots the islanders wore. Which meant that his knees were being highlighted by tall boots and long shorts, like he was shouting “Look at my knees!” Zoro was stuck wearing a stupid, form-fitting, jumpsuit thing that rode up his ass and he couldn’t wait to get changed into normal clothes again. But getting changed meant that Sanji would change out of his shorts, and then Zoro would be bereft of knees.
Fuck, he needed drink. Or ten. Bereft of knees?
Luckily, the highest of high in the World Government was trying to kill them so he had a distraction. The Giant Warrior Pirates arrived, as did an Iron Giant, and there was a giant haki explosion that saved them all. Zoro was waiting for a giant shoe to drop, to go with the theme, but it appeared things were going to calm down. Luffy declared they would sail with the Great Eirik to Elbaph, the next destination on their way to obtaining the One Piece.
Much to Zoro’s thankfulness, a hey-hi-how-are-you-long-time-no-see party was started and he got his booze-filled wish. Luffy was somewhat downcast as they’d only managed to rescue Lillith out of all the Vegapunk satellites and Vegapunk himself. But everyone else appeared to be having a good time, Straw Hats and Giant Warrior Pirates together.
And Sanji was still wearing black shorts. Plus a really hideous orange, floral, short-sleeved button-down that Zoro needed to throw overboard as soon as Sanji took it off for the night.
They were sitting in the Great Eirik’s version of the Aquarium Bar, minus fish but with a lot more alcohol. Kegs that were bigger than Zoro hung from chains on either side of the square room. Plush benches and sofas created sitting areas around low tables. Shields and furs hung as decorations on the walls. A cheery fire burned in a massive fireplace at the aft end of the room. Egghead Island had been warm due to technology, but they were still sailing in a winter climate and the fire was necessary. It also allowed for Sanji to remain in his shorts, showing off his knees. Naturally, Sanji flitted from person to person, Straw Hat to Giant, playing host even though it wasn’t his ship. He supplied alcohol and food refills to those in need.
Zoro spent the entire time watching Sanji’s knees, like some knee-pervert. He also drank a lot of booze. He may have killed one of the massive kegs off by himself. Or two. Or was it four? There had been a drinking competition between him and one of the Giant Warrior Pirates that he thought he’d won. He was feeling a tad lightheaded as they stumbled their way back to the Sunny for the night.
“You know,” Zoro said, half-helping-half-hanging off Franky. Franky drank only cola, but he was obviously intoxicated. He wobbled as they walked. Or maybe Zoro was the one wobbling along the rope bridge between the two ships. “I’m in love with Sanji’s knees.”
“That’s super, bro,” Franky said, patting Zoro on the back. He was grinning wide. “You should tell him.”
“Maybe I will.” Zoro belched. “Maybe then I can stop thinking about him. Them. Stupid knees. Don’t tell anyone.”
“Right.” Franky’s grin got bigger. “Won’t say a word.” He looked over his shoulder then and there was a mess of giggles behind them.
“What was that?” Zoro asked, trying to look back, but he nearly lost his balance as they stepped from the bridge to the Sunny. The strong waves must’ve shook the ship.
“Nothing, bro. Good luck with the knees.” Franky slapped him on the shoulder before ambling off to the men’s quarters.
Nami and Robin walked past Zoro, wearing twin grins. “Good night, Zoro!” they chimed simultaneously. It was creepy.
Chopper rolled Usopp and Brook onto the ship, and Jinbe carried a sleeping Luffy. “Good night, Zoro,” Chopper said. Usopp and Brook waved and stumbled toward the men’s quarters. “If you need anything for a hangover, let me know.”
“M’not drunk,” Zoro said. Chopper gave him a look and Zoro quickly amended, “Alright, maybe a little.” Chopper could be scary.
“I know you have a superior constitution, but you’re not invincible,” Chopper chided. “Wake me up if you need anything.”
“I will,” Zoro promised. Chopper nodded and toddled off.
A zip of frigid wind tickled Zoro’s earrings. He needed to piss, then he needed to sleep. He pivoted on his heel and nearly ran smack into Sanji, who had stepped off the bridge behind him.
“Watch where you’re going, marimo,” Sanji snapped, his arms wrapped tightly around himself.
“You!” Zoro pointed at Sanji. “This is all your fault.”
Sanji stared at him a second, then shook his head. “It’s too cold to deal with your bullshit.” He side-stepped Zoro and headed for the men’s quarters.
Zoro stared at the backs of Sanji’s knees as he walked away. He loved those knees. “Does this mean you’re taking off your shorts?”
“Of course I’m taking off my shorts. It’s fucking freezing.”
“Oh.” The news made Zoro sad. “Can you put them on again tomorrow?”
“Can I… no. Not getting into this when my balls are crawling up into my throat.” Sanji pulled open the door to the men’s bunk. “Go to bed, you drunk-assed swordsman.”
“M’not drunk!” Zoro called after him as the door closed. The wind whipped through hair, and he tugged at the material of his jumpsuit, trying to get it out of his ass. He’d missed his chance to announce his love for Sanji’s knees. Oh well. He could do it tomorrow. Right now, he needed to piss.
Zoro had woken up in the head, sprawled across the threshold using his jumpsuit as a pillow while everything else was on display. Luckily, it was Usopp who’d come across him first and had used his slingshot to fling a towel over his waist while making a joke about the fourth sword needing a scabbard. Zoro’s mouth tasted as if someone had shoved a dirty sock in it, and once he’d cleaned up and put on normal clothes, he headed into the galley to grab some sake.
Sanji stood at the prep counter, slicing fruit with deft strokes of a knife. He wore a yellow shirt sans jacket and his cuffs were rolled to his elbows. Zoro walked around the bar separating the eating from kitchen areas and told himself he wasn’t disappointed that Sanji was wearing trousers again.
The galley on the Sunny had a full kitchen and eating area big enough to fit the crew plus some. Pendant lights provided illumination in the kitchen. A service elevator stood beside the door that ran up to the Aquarium Bar. Two other doors led to dry storage and Chopper’s infirmary. Zoro set his katanas on the bar top and took a seat on one of the stools. “Get me a sake.”
“It’s too early for sake.” Sanji stood across from him, sliding cut fruit into a bowl. A cigarette dangled from his lips.
“It’s never too early,” Zoro said. “And I’m not asking, I’m telling.”
Sanji puffed his cigarette in irritation. “Like that’s going to work.”
If there wasn’t a lock on the fridge, Zoro would get the sake himself. But there was, and only Sanji and Nami had the keys. He debated on breaking the lock, but he already owed that sea witch too much Beli. “I’m not moving until I get it.”
Sanji shrugged. “Do what you want. As you can see, I’m busy.”
Zoro had thought the threat of staying would get him the sake. Too bad. Now he’d have to stay just to prove a point. He folded his arms and rested them on the bar top. “What’re you making?”
“Fruit medley.” Sanji picked up another piece of fruit, swiftly pared off the skin, and began slicing it into pieces. His knife work was swift and flawless. Zoro watched the way his wrists twisted and bent. The way the muscle flexed in his forearms. The sharp relief of his wrist bones. The faint veins that trailed from his hand to his forearms beneath his pale skin. Zoro could sit and stare at Sanji’s wrists all morning. It was strangely intimate. He liked it.
Horror came over Zoro at the realization of what was happening: he liked Sanji’s wrists. He must have made a choking sound because Sanji raised an eyebrow at him. “You okay there, marimo?”
“Fine!” Zoro’s voice sounded like a squeak. He cleared his throat. “I’m fine. Why do you care?”
“I don’t. But I also don’t want you being sick in my galley.” Sanji flicked a seed away from the fruit and the sharp motion of his wrist was Zoro’s undoing.
“Right. Sick. Heh. Don’t want that.” Zoro grabbed his katanas and fled as nonchalantly as possible. The tap, tap, tap of the knife against the cutting board sounded like laughter following him out.
Once Zoro was clear of the galley, he flew up to the Crow’s Nest. Watch was well over, so he was alone. Franky had created the Crow’s Nest to double as a lookout and a training room. Weights and exercise equipment filled a majority of the circular room. Padded seating with storage compartments ran under the mullioned windows that could open and shut. The room was cool, as they didn’t keep it heated until someone was up there.
Zoro sat down on his weight bench and buried his hands in his hair. He couldn’t believe what had happened in the galley. Zoro understood the thing he had about Sanji’s knees… well, no. Not really. But it was a long-time obsession that only appeared when Sanji wore shorts, which wasn’t often. But now, with the wrists? What was wrong with him? He’d never looked at anyone like this, like maybe he liked what he saw.
Zoro set his katanas aside, picked up a hand weight, and debated on bashing himself in the head with it. Instead, he opted to drown his misery in exercise.
Breakfast was torture. Sanji hadn’t rolled down his sleeves and he kept reaching past Zoro to add food to the table, top off drinks, or serve people. Zoro could not stop staring at Sanji’s wrists. It was driving him insane.
The full crew sat around the table in the galley’s dining area. Usopp was regaling Jinbe with a tale about a cow, a duck, and a revolution. Chopper and Brook were chatting. Luffy was eating more slowly than usual, still bummed about Vegapunk. Robin sat beside Zoro, with Nami across from him and Franky at the end. Breakfast was the fruit medley, plus bacon, eggs, pancakes, ham, sausage, waffles, toast, and every conceivable drink. Except sake, and Zoro wasn’t going to ask.
“Oh, Sanji-kun,” Nami said partway through the meal. She was looking at Zoro with a cunning smile on her face. “Why aren’t you wearing your shorts today?”
Zoro choked on a piece of bacon.
“Yeah, Cook-bro,” Franky spoke up. “Is it so cold that you’ve gone knock-kneed?”
Sanji’s brow furrowed with confusion. “Was I supposed to be wearing shorts for some reason?”
“No, you can wear whatever you feel the need to wear,” Nami said.
Zoro began shoveling breakfast into his mouth at a fast clip. It had been drilled into him never to waste food and he needed to finish what was on his plate before he could escape this evil. He hadn’t remembered his declaration in front of Franky - and apparently Nami - until now.
Franky added, “Maybe he has to knead some dough for lunch, too.”
Evil, evil, evil.
“I was planning to make fresh rolls for lunch.” Sanji still sounded confused. “What does it have to do with shorts, though?”
“Simply curious,” Nami said, though her devilish grin remained focused on Zoro. “Some people love shorts.”
Robin’s soft laugh behind her hand was Zoro’s undoing. “Nobody wants to see the damned cook in shorts!” Zoro exclaimed. It wasn’t a lie. Sanji putting his shorts back on might send Zoro overboard.
Sanji kicked the underside of Zoro’s chair. The impact was hard enough to feel. “Don’t talk to Nami-san in that tone!”
“I can talk to her however I want.”
“Not in my galley, you don’t.” Sanji pointed at the door. “Finish your breakfast elsewhere, shithead.”
“Glady.” Zoro may have said it with a sneer, but what he felt was relief. He snagged his plate and drink and hustled out of the galley - and into a snowstorm. “Damn.”
Snow was coming down hard. Large wet flakes that stuck to his lashes and nose. Accumulation already covered the main deck. They were going to have to shovel. He stuck his head back into the galley. “Snow’s coming down. Gonna need to shovel.”
“I’ll break ‘em out,” Franky said, rising from his seat. He downed the rest of his cola.
“Oooh, snow!” Chopper excitedly ran past Zoro and looked at the field of white blanketing the Sunny. He wiggled and clapped. “I don’t like it when it snows at all.”
Everyone began eating faster, talking about who would be shoveling where, distracted by the snow. Zoro ducked back into the galley to stand in the corner and finish his food. He’d almost been done anyway. Sanji gave him a look but didn’t say anything. When Zoro was finished, he put his plate and cup in the sink - he was embarrassed, not an asshole - and went to break out the cold weather gear.
By the time everyone was done eating, bundled up, and ready to work, at least two feet of snow had accumulated on the Sunny. The Giant Warrior Pirates were out, too, shoveling their decks. The Straw Hat crew worked two to an area, with Franky using his blower attachment to hit hard to reach places. Zoro was assigned to the main deck, and because Nami did the assignments and lived to torment him, Sanji was his partner.
It was fine at first. They started on opposite sides of the deck, shoveling the snow overboard. But as time went on, they got closer and closer to each other in the middle. They both wore heavy coats and gloves to fight off the chill. The wind whipped around the Sunny and sent the still-falling snow into a whirlwind. It also knocked Sanji’s hood back repeatedly and caused his hair to fly willy-nilly. This exposed his ears to the cold and to Zoro’s gaze.
Zoro couldn’t stop staring at Sanji’s ears. He couldn’t stop looking at the way the ears swirled, the delicate outer shell, the way they’d reddened from the cold. With every pass, Zoro stared and wondered how Sanji would look with an earring piercing his earlobe. At one point, he nearly walked into the main mast because he was too busy watching the way Sanji’s blond hair flicked and tickled around those ears.
Thankfully, Sanji didn’t seem to notice Zoro’s new obsession. He kept yanking his hood back into place, stamping snow from his shoes, and occasionally muttering about the cold. Once they’d both reached the middle, they returned to the far sides of the ship and started again on the new snow that had accumulated. It gave Zoro a break from Sanji’s ears and allowed him time to contemplate all the ways he could commit hari kari.
The snow didn’t stop falling until mid-day and the shoveling crew finally got to relax. The girls used the bath first, to warm up, and then it was the boys’ turn. All eight of them crowded into the onsen-style tub, wearing towels and rubbing at frost-nipped skin. Franky and Jinbe took up the most room with their larger bodies, spreading out on one side of the tub. Usopp, Chopper, and Luffy splashed around in the middle. Brook sat next to Sanji, with Zoro on Brook’s other side. Zoro figured it would be wise to keep someone in between him and Sanji’s knees, wrists, and ears.
Zoro dropped his head back and stared at the arched ceiling of the bathroom. The bathroom had a shower with a bench running beneath it for their clothing. The floor was tiled in a soap bubble-type pattern. A wall divided the bathroom from the water closet and the ladder hatch. Sun peeked through the clouds to beam in through the window above the large tub. Steam rose from the hot water, visible in the sunlight.
Zoro felt his body thawing and relaxing, as he listened to his crewmates chatter. These were the moments he appreciated, when they were together enjoying each other’s company with no danger on the horizon. Jinbe’s addition to the crew fit like a piece they hadn’t known they’d been missing. His quiet strength and honor balanced the antics of the more flamboyant members of the Straw Hat crew.
Sleepiness was tugging at Zoro’s eye. He could use a drink and a nap. Sanji might be more amenable to handing over the sake. He’d made hot cocoa for everyone immediately after they’d finished shoveling. Zoro knew he’d be getting out soon to make a late lunch.
Zoro lifted his head, on the tip of his tongue to ask and instead had to bite it. Sanji had positioned himself so that he could rest his heels on the side of the tub, long legs stretched out in front of him. One foot was crossed over the other. Zoro knew it was a way to cool off without leaving the tub. He’d done it himself on more than one occasion.
Zoro would have thought he was safe, as Sanji’s knees and wrists were still hidden beneath the bubbling surface of the water and he couldn’t see past Brook to Sanji’s ears. However, Zoro hadn’t counted on Sanji’s ankles being a thing. The sharp bone covered by pale skin. The dip behind it. The way his strong calf muscles tapered to more fragile-looking ankles. Zoro knew they were not fragile, at all. They could withstand the heavy kicks and flips that Sanji performed on a regular basis. Still, the way the sunlight played over the damp skin made them appear elegant rather than brutish.
Fuck, Zoro didn’t understand what the hell was happening, why he suddenly seemed to be into looking at another guy. He hadn’t before. But for some reason, he was enamored with Sanji’s parts. He sank down in the tub until his head was beneath the surface and Sanji’s taunting ankles were no longer visible. He wondered if anyone would notice if he drowned.
An hour later, dry and warm and un-drowned, Zoro walked into the galley to get his sake. He saw Sanji washing dishes with his sleeves rolled to his biceps and long gloves covering his hands to his forearms. The only part of his arms visible were his elbows.
Zoro pivoted on his heel and walked back out the door.
The crew had gathered in the Aquarium Bar after their late lunch. The Aquarium Bar had comfortable bench seating around the circular perimeter of the room. Fish, some dinner, some not, swam in the overly large tank that claimed, couch to ceiling, the back half of the bar. A service elevator stood in the center of the room, with an attached table and bolted seating around it. Lit sconces hung on the elevator.
After lunch, Chopper had checked on Lillith, but she was still unconscious in the infirmary. Now, Chopper, Usopp, and Jinbe were playing a game on the checker-patterned floor. Luffy was asleep on the couch. Nami sat at the table, working on an accounting book. Franky and Brook played guitar and violin quietly by one of the doors. Robin and Sanji both sat on the couch, reading books.
Zoro was seated cross-legged on the floor, supposedly cleaning his katanas. Mostly, he was staring at the notch in Sanji’s neck between his collarbones. Sanji was wearing a full suit, hiding his damnable knees, wrists, ankles, and elbows. His longer hair covered his ears again. But he’d foregone his tie and the collar of his shirt was unbuttoned, and Zoro had become fascinated by the shadowed dip.
Every time Sanji shifted or turned a page, his collarbones would move, causing the dip to slightly change shape. The notch tantalized Zoro. He wondered how soft the skin was there. He wanted to run his finger along Sanji’s collarbone until it reached that point. Was it sensitive? Would Sanji jump? Would he like it?
“You’re staring, marimo,” Sanji murmured, yanking Zoro from his reverie.
“I was wondering how your face got to be so ugly,” Zoro deflected. He began studiously cleaning the katana across his lap. He felt his face flaming. He’d never been interested in touching anyone in his life. He didn’t know why this was happening now, of all times.
Sanji didn’t look up from his book. “It’s better than your ass-face.”
“Tch.” Zoro glanced up from beneath his lashes. Sanji went back to ignoring him. Robin wore a small, knowing smile on her lips.
Zoro wished the floor would open up beneath him.
Lilith regained consciousness the next day, informed them that she carried all the knowledge of Vegapunk and the satellites and that they lived on within her, and Luffy’s mood instantly lifted. It was time for another party with the Giant Warrior Pirates.
Zoro wasn’t sure he wanted to go, but the draw of copious amounts of booze swayed him. He’d managed to avoid Sanji and his stupid body parts the entire day. Now, they’d be in each other’s vicinity again. As long as the idiot chef kept all his bits covered, maybe Zoro could enjoy the evening.
Zoro was lucky. Sanji wore his full suit and tie, with no skin showing outside of his face and hands. His hair covered his ears still. Zoro might actually be able to get through the party without obsessing over something else. It’s not like he didn’t see Sanji’s hands and face all the time. They’d never done anything for him before. Why should they now?
Like last time, Sanji flitted about and served. Everyone ate and drank. The Giant Warrior Pirates were generous with their food and alcohol. The festive spirit put everyone in a good mood. With Lillith awake, the celebration became louder and wilder as the night wore on. When it was finally time to stumble off to bed, Franky carried half the crew draped over his arms. Jinbe escorted Nami and Robin back to their quarters. Zoro was stuck with Sanji.
Zoro wasn’t drunk this time, but Sanji had tied one on. He swayed, hummed, and was smiling widely at whatever was going on in his inebriated mind. He had a great smile, one that Zoro was not going to fall for, damn it. It wasn’t the type of smile that was ever turned toward him, anyway.
“C’mon, you sloppy love cook.” Zoro supported Sanji beneath a shoulder as they crossed the rope bridge between the ships. The snow hadn’t returned, but the frigid air slipped beneath their coats to make them shiver. Zoro might jump in a hot bath again before bed.
“Hn.” Sanji swayed against him. “Love cook. Why d’you call me that?”
“Because you’re a perverted ninny.” Zoro and Sanji stepped off the bridge onto the main deck of the Sunny. “And you act like a love-struck idiot around girls.”
“Oh.” Sanji hiccoughed tipsily. “Thought it was because you were in love with the cook.”
“What?!” Zoro stopped short, but Sanji kept going and nearly fell on his face. Sanji caught himself against the door to the men’s quarters.
“Oi, watch it,” Sanji said. “M’not too drunk to fight you.”
Zoro blinked several times, trying to wrap his mind around what Sanji had said. “I do not- I can’t- how do you- no!”
“Psh. Whatever.” Sanji took the opportunity to open the door and stumble inside the men’s quarters, leaving Zoro on the deck with his tumultuous thoughts. He was not in love with the cook, damn it. That was ridiculous! And stupid! And no. Just because he liked looking at Sanji’s knees and wrists and ears and ankles and elbows and notch in between his collarbones and maybe his smile did not mean Zoro was in love with the whole cook!
Who was he kidding? Zoro was in love with the cook. It explained everything.
Fuck.
Zoro tossed and turned in his bunk all night, and it wasn’t the wheezes and snores of his crewmates that kept him up.
The men’s quarters had eight bunk beds suspended from the ceiling on the far side of the room. Lockers lined the wall, and Franky had installed a sunken couch and low table between the bunks and the door. Their wanted posters were hung on the wall with pride. Their clothing was scattered around, dropped on the floor where removed. A furnace burned in the corner, keeping the room warm.
Zoro pulled the blanket over his head as he turned over again. His mind repeated the same words over and over: How did this happen? Why did this happen? It’s not like he was interested in Sanji before - except for his knees and that was an anomaly that Zoro was going to pretend never existed. Sure, Zoro appreciated Sanji’s kindness, liked the way he fought, and trusted the bastard with Luffy’s life. He was awed by Sanji's talent in the kitchen - though he’d never admit it to Sanji’s face - and was amazed that Sanji could wear suits into battle. He looked sharp in those suits, too. He also never backed down from Zoro, challenging him in every way possible. And when he’d been gone to deal with his family and possibly get married, Zoro had felt a hole deep inside himself, even though he knew Sanji’d take care of it and then be back. None of this meant he was interested or in love with Sanji, right?
Zoro grumbled, beat his pillow, and tried to force himself to sleep. He wasn’t successful. The other thought that kept niggling at him was, why now? They’d sailed together for a long time. They’d lived practically in each other’s pockets. The Sunny might be bigger than the Merry was, but it felt tiny after weeks at sea traveling between islands. Nothing was different now than it had been. Sure, they hadn’t seen much of each other in the past month and a half, what with Sanji being gone and the goings-on in Wano Country. He’d barely seen Sanji during that time. It wasn’t until after they’d won and were ready to leave that they’d spent any time together, and that wasn’t for long. They were back on the Sunny sailing away from Wano before he’d finally caught Sanji alone and realized how much he’d missed the foul-mouthed cook.
Realization dawned on Zoro. That was it, that was why now. Sanji’s absence was the difference. He had missed Sanji. He was hyperfocusing on Sanji’s body parts because they hadn’t been around. He hadn’t been around, to annoy Zoro, fight with Zoro, and be a general pain in the ass. And Zoro wanted him around to do those things. He wanted Sanji to be present, to hear his voice, to be in his face, to compete with him and cuss at him. He wanted to eat Sanji’s cooking and only Sanji’s cooking. He wanted to see Sanji in those suits, so prissy and fussy over his appearance, so different than Zoro was. He wanted Sanji there, with him. Always.
Now what was he going to do about it?
Ninety percent of the time, Sanji could be found in the galley. He was either making a meal, cleaning up after a meal, prepping recipes for a meal, or checking their storage to make more meals. When he was not in the galley, he was usually with the crew. But for thirty minutes every day, in the afternoon, Sanji took a break by himself in the men’s quarters.
Zoro found him there, lying on the sunken sofa, smoking a cigarette. An ashtray sat on the table beside him. His shoes were off and his suit coat had been discarded over the back of the couch. His tie remained knotted properly. The furnace piped warm air into the room. Everyone knew these thirty minutes were sacrosanct and Zoro wouldn’t dare interrupt Sanji’s break if he hadn’t wanted to guarantee they’d be left alone.
Zoro took a seat at the end of another couch, near Sanji’s head. Zoro wasn’t one to beat around the bush. He was in love with Sanji, was going to tell him, and then deal with the aftermath. Zoro wouldn’t pine or act like a lovesick fool. It’s not like things would change if Sanji rejected him. They would always be nakama. Zoro didn’t like all that hearts and flowers bullshit, anyway. He flat-out had never been interested in anything physical, even though now he wanted to see what that dip in Sanji’s collarbones felt like. His heart might hurt, but he didn’t know that for sure. He’d find out if it happened.
“What do you want, shit swordsman?” Sanji said, reaching out to ash his cigarette in the ashtray. His other arm was pillowed behind his head.
Zoro asked the first question that was on his mind, one that would immediately put Zoro out of contention. “Did you get married?”
“You’re disturbing me with this bullshit?”
“It’s important. I don’t know what happened in Totto Land. Luffy only said that you stopped Big Mom with a cake and that your dad wasn’t very nice. No one else said anything.”
Sanji sounded peeved. “No, I didn’t get married. The whole thing was a ruse to kill me and the Vinsmoke family.”
“Good.”
“Good? ” Sanji swung his legs down and sat up. He glared at Zoro. “It’s good that Big Mom wanted to kill me?”
“Someone always wants to kill you. That’s not new,” Zoro said. “And you’re still here, so it doesn’t matter.”
Sanji glowered at Zoro. “Thank you for caring.” His words dripped with sarcasm.
“Yeah, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Zoro rubbed the back of his neck, disliking the feeling of suddenly being unsure. “Remember last night when you asked me why I call you ‘love cook’? And you said it was because you thought it meant that I loved the cook?”
Sanji abruptly busied himself with the ashtray, stubbing out his spent cigarette, the fan of his hair hiding his face. “I was drunk. Nothing I said meant anything.”
“Oh. Well, uh….” Zoro took a deep breath and let him have it. “It’s true.”
“What’s true?”
“That I love the cook.”
Sanji went very still.
“So, yeah, there it is. That’s what I came in here to tell you.” Zoro rose. “I’ll leave you to your break.” He headed for the door, not expecting any sort of answer. It was a big thing to drop on someone. He knew he would need a minute to process if one of the crew told him that they loved him out of the blue.
Trust Sanji to be contrary to expectations. “You can’t just tell someone you love them and then leave, asshole.”
Zoro paused near the door and turned to Sanji. “I thought maybe you’d need a minute.”
“Of course I need a minute!” Sanji seemed flustered. “That still doesn’t mean you leave.”
“Huh. Okay.” Zoro ambled back to the couch, set aside his katanas, and sat down again. He spread his arms along the back and propped his booted foot on his opposite knee. “Let me know when you’re ready.”
Head bowed, elbows resting on the table, Sanji pulled at his own hair. “You are infuriating.”
Zoro shrugged. “So are you. It’s one of the reasons I like you.”
Sanji made a sound of exasperation. He lit up a new cigarette. Elbow still on the table, he rested the base of his palm against his forehead like he had a headache, his long fingers tangled in his bangs. The other hand held the cigarette, which he puffed on as if he needed it to live.
Zoro looked across the table at the wanted posters hanging on the wall. They’d updated them recently. The new pictures weren’t bad. Zoro looked like he should. Usopp’s was still kind-of awesome. He understood why Franky was pissed, not having his picture on it. Nami and Robin both looked good, as did Chopper and Jinbe. Luffy had white hair and you couldn’t see much of his face because his hand was in the way. Brook’s was a concert poster with the bounty printed on it. Sanji’s was still ridiculous and he’d scratched out the name Vinsmoke with thick marker. Zoro wondered what that was about. It was Sanji’s last name, wasn’t it? Not that he’d ever told the crew, and Zoro had never thought to ask. It wasn’t as if Sanji’s last name mattered to Zoro. Most of the time, his first name didn’t matter to Zoro, either. Zoro was content to call him Aho Cook, Love Cook, Idiot, Asshole, Dartbrow, Curlique, or whatever else popped up in his mind. He might have to drop the Love Cook now if Sanji wasn’t into him. Keeping it up would be cruel.
Now that he was thinking about names, he wondered if Sanji had taken Zeff’s last name instead. Zeff was a sort-of father to Sanji, from the stories Sanji told. What was Zeff’s last name? Zoro knew he’d been the pirate Red-Leg Zeff, but that was his nickname. Kind of like Sanji had been known for a while as Black-Leg Sanji and Zoro used to be called Pirate Hunter Zoro. Technically, Zoro did still hunt pirates, but not for bounties and he only hunted the shitty ones who hurt people. It wasn’t his name, though.
“Hey, what’s Zeff’s last name?” Zoro asked.
Sanji looked over at him as if he’d lost his mind. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“You crossed your last name off the wanted poster.” Zoro gestured to it with his chin. “Thought maybe you’d taken Zeff’s and that’s why you scratched it out.”
“That’s what you’re thinking about?”
“Well, yeah.” Zoro scratched behind his ear. “Is that what you did?”
“No. Zeff never offered, and I refuse to be associated with the Vinsmokes. I don’t have a second name.” Sanji shook his head. “I can’t believe this is what we’re talking about.”
“Why?”
“Because you just told me that you loved me!”
“Eh. I’m waiting on you. Did you expect me to sit here not thinking?”
“No. Yes. Fuck.” Sanji dragged his hand through his hair. “You could at least be worried about my response.”
“Why should I be?” Zoro was confused. “You’re either interested in me or you’re not. If you are, great. If not, that’s fine, too.”
“It’d be fine if I didn’t reciprocate?” Sanji sounded insulted.
“Well, yeah. I’m not gonna force my feelings on you.” Zoro wouldn't know how he felt if Sanji wasn’t into it until it happened, but that was for him to deal with. “You’re nakama no matter what.”
Sanji looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or kick Zoro in the head. “You really believe it’s that simple, don’t you.”
“Isn’t it?”
Sanji opened his mouth to respond, closed it, and looked down at the ashtray in front of him as if it held the answers to everything. “Look, I’ve thought about you- us, like that, together, sometimes. I never thought you’d want that, too.”
“Why not?” Zoro asked, curious. He hadn’t known that he did until last night, but he was interested in the answer.
“Because you are as romantic as a turnip.” Sanji stubbed out the spent cigarette in his hand.
Zoro frowned. “What does romance have to do with anything?”
“You have never shown an interest in anything romantically,” Sanji told him. “Women, men, moss balls, nothing. You show more care for your katanas than people.”
Zoro shrugged. Sanji wasn’t wrong. “I haven’t been interested in anyone until your stupid knees started everything a few days ago.”
“My knees… what?” Sanji pinched the bridge of his nose. He must’ve gotten that headache.
“Your knees. You wore shorts again, and I’ve always had a thing for your knees. But then you had your sleeves rolled up and I really liked the way your wrists looked. Then it snowed, and your ears were all ‘look at me,’ followed by your stupid ankles - but I am not going to talk about your elbows - and you have this notch between your collarbones that I really want to touch for some weird, unknown reason. Then you brought up that love cook shit and I realized that you were right, that I loved you, because I missed the hell out of you when I didn’t really see you for a month and a half, and I don’t want you to be anywhere but at my side - except for, you know, if we’re fighting people on different parts of an island, but afterward I want you to be with me again.”
“Maybe not a turnip,” Sanji said, sounding dumbstruck. “I think that is the most I have ever heard you say at one time since I’ve known you.”
“So, does this mean you’re interested in me or not?” Zoro said. He wanted to know if he had a shot or was going to have to deal with whatever emotions a no led to. Besides, it was the afternoon. “I’ve got afternoon training to do.”
“Never mind. Turnip.” Sanji let out a small laugh of defeat. “If this doesn’t work out, I’m not leaving this ship. Not after Luffy saved me from myself.”
Zoro didn’t know what that meant, but he understood the sentiment. “Does that mean yes?”
“Yes, marimo. I’m interested.”
Elation exploded in Zoro’s chest, like he’d just won a particularly hard fight. Only this time he didn’t fall unconscious immediately from his injuries. He felt a huge smile spread across his face. “That’s great! I’m going to work out now.”
Sanji stared at him as if he’d lost his mind again. He gave that look to Zoro a lot, now that Zoro thought about it. “You don’t want to, um… celebrate?”
“Maybe later. I’m late for training and you still need to finish your break.” Zoro hopped to his feet and grabbed his katanas. He felt like he could bench press the Sunny. “See ya.”
Zoro heard Sanji mutter behind him as he went out the door, “I’m going to fall in love with an idiot.”
Zoro and Sanji were fighting in the men’s quarters. Zoro found it to be more exhilarating than usual. He and Sanji flipped, kicked, and jumped off the bunks, sofa, lockers, and table as they tried to best each other. They’d both come in to change: Zoro after a post-workout shower, Sanji after Usopp had squirted him with squid ink. One insult had led to another until blades and shoe-bottoms were clashing. It was how they always acted around each other and Zoro enjoyed it.
What was weird was Zoro suddenly having the urge to wrestle, kinda like Luffy, Usopp, Franky, and Chopper did on the main deck on a sunny day. Zoro didn’t wrestle. Luffy sometimes latched onto him, but it never lasted. He simply wasn’t that interested in horsing around like that. But now he wanted to try it, with Sanji.
Zoro and Sanji didn’t touch. Not really. Offering a hand up or a shoulder to lean on when drunk or injured was about as far as physical contact went between them. Sanji kicked him, but that didn’t count. They didn’t even sit close to each other when on the same couch. It simply wasn’t something they did. But maybe they could, now that they were into one another. He still wanted to touch that spot between Sanji’s collarbones.
After the next block, Zoro decided to sheathe his two katanas and try the launch-attack that Luffy liked to do, at Sanji’s middle. Sanji dodged out of the way and Zoro crashed into the back of the sunken couch instead. He dropped onto his knees on the floor. Well, that hadn’t worked.
“What are you doing, idiot marimo?” Sanji said.
“Trying to wrestle with you,” Zoro told him. “Forgot that you’re super quick now. I’m going to have to get better to counter that.” He scratched his cheek. Maybe he needed to catch pellets from Usopp’s slingshot aimed at different parts of the ship. He’d have to hustle to reach them in time. It might improve his speed.
“Wrestle with me,” Sanji repeated. “Since when do you wrestle?”
“I don’t. It’s just a weird urge I had.”
Sanji sighed exasperatedly. “You don’t need to make up an excuse to touch me.”
“It’s not an excuse. I wanted to wrestle for some reason.” Zoro got to his feet. “But I was also thinking about how we don’t touch and maybe now we could.”
“Maybe now…” Sanji stared at Zoro like he’d lost his mind once again. “You do remember that you told me that you loved me a few hours ago.”
“Of course I do.” Zoro pulled his katanas free of their loop at his waist and set them on the table since they were done fighting. He still needed to change. He headed over to his locker.
“And I told you that I was interested in a relationship with you.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?” Zoro shrugged agreeably. “Okay.”
“What did you think it was called?”
“Never thought about it,” Zoro said. “You’re the one into all that romance shit, not me.”
Sanji pinched the bridge of his nose like he was getting a headache again. Maybe he needed to see Chopper. “Maybe you should go see Chopper,” Zoro said. “This is your second headache today.”
“My headache is standing in front of me.”
“Huh?” Zoro was confused for a second, then he realized Sanji meant him. “Hey! Are you trying to start another fight?” Zoro might have set aside his katanas too soon. Zoro wouldn’t mind going another round, because he found fighting with Sanji to be both fun and great practice.
Sanji pulled his cigarettes from his pocket, took one out, but didn't light it. He tucked the pack away. He walked over to Zoro and leaned against one of the lockers. “Zoro, what did you think was going to happen once I said I was interested?”
The seriousness in Sanji’s voice meant he wasn’t trying to rile Zoro up. Zoro answered him honestly. “That you felt like I did and wanted me around. Maybe you were obsessed with my ears or wrists or something, too. And that maybe I could touch your neck right here.” Zoro touched the hollow between his own collarbones. “Then I can stop thinking about it.”
Sanji’s hand fluttered to his own neck before falling back to his side. “Is that it?”
“Well, yeah. What else is there?”
Sanji looked at him for a long moment. Not the look that said Zoro had lost his mind. This one was like confusion and wonder squashed together. It sort of made him look constipated. Zoro’s lips twitched in amusement.
Zoro pulled off his t-shirt and slung it into the corner with the rest of his laundry. He opened his locker to dig out another shirt. Since it was cold, he’d opt for something more substantial.
“Zoro, look at me,” Sanji finally said.
“Hm?” Zoro glanced over at Sanji. He held a long-sleeved shirt in his hands. “What?”
Sanji tucked his cigarette behind his ear and reached a hand toward Zoro. Zoro backed up a half-step. “What are you doing?”
“Just… hold still.” Sanji reached toward him again.
Zoro realized Sanji wanted to touch him. Part of Zoro wanted to still back up from this foreign thing. The other part caused his palms to suddenly start sweating. Sanji cupped his hand under Zoro’s chin, along his jawline. Sanji’s hand was warm. He rubbed his thumb against Zoro’s lower lip. It felt weird and also good, and it sent Zoro’s heart racing in his chest.
Sanji leaned forward, into Zoro’s personal space. Zoro almost moved but managed to stop himself. His vision blurred as Sanji’s face came closer to his. He could feel a gust of breath against his upper lip. Then Sanji pressed his mouth against Zoro’s own.
Panic. Laughter. Exhilaration. All three feelings roiled through Zoro at once. Sanji's lips were firm and warm, held against Zoro’s with a gentle pressure. Zoro wanted to flee, but he also wanted more at the same time. It was confusing as hell. The shirt twisted in his hands.
Sanji pulled away, and Zoro refused to acknowledge that he may have made a small sound of displeasure. Sanji came into focus again. His hand still cupped Zoro’s face. “Was that all right?”
Zoro couldn't seem to find his voice, so he nodded. His heart sounded like thunder in his ears.
“You’ve never done this before, have you?” Sanji said quietly.
“What?” Zoro croaked. He wanted Sanji to do it again.
“Been with someone.” Sanji stroked his thumb along Zoro’s lower lip again. “Kissed them. Had sex with them.”
Zoro shook his head. “Why would I?” He’d heard about kissing and sex from the other boys in the dojos he’d visited, when he was in his mid-teens. It hadn’t sounded that interesting. He’d preferred to concentrate on his training. “Told you I wasn’t into that romantic shit.”
Sanji lowered his hand. Zoro immediately felt bereft. “So you don’t want-” Sanji gestured between them, “-anything physical?”
“I…” Zoro faltered. He didn’t know. “I don’t know.”
Sanji took a deep breath and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Okay.”
Zoro thought maybe he’d done something wrong. “Did I do something wrong?”
Sanji smiled crookedly. “No, marimo. It’s just not something I expected.”
“That kissing thing was okay,” Zoro said quickly.
Sanji’s smile grew affectionate, the corner of his visible eye crinkling. Zoro had never seen that smile directed at him before. It made his insides feel funny. “Dumbass. You don’t have to try with me. You never have before. Don’t start now."
“No, I meant it.” Zoro twisted the shirt more, cutting the circulation off in his hands. “It was weird, but I wanted you to do it again right away, which means I probably liked it. I haven’t thought about it yet.”
Sanji chuckled with a shake of his head. “A ringing endorsement of my kissing.”
Zoro had that idea that he’d done something wrong again. It was starting to piss him off. “I haven’t done anything wrong. You kissed me. Maybe I liked it, maybe I didn’t. I don’t know yet. I know that I love you. I know that I like looking at you and that I want to fight with you and eat your cooking and have you here with me. I know that I had a hole in my chest when you were gone, and that smile you just gave me made my insides fill with butterflies. And I think I want to touch you but I’m not sure how. I never wanted something like this, with feelings and shit. The physical stuff never interested me. I just know that I want you at my side always. Why does there have to be anything more than that?”
Sanji’s visible eye was wide and he withdrew his hand from his pocket to grasp his ink-splattered tie. His face had a faint pink flush to it. His voice sounded rough when he spoke. “I… don’t know if there does.”
“Okay, then. We can both don’t know together.”
A bubble of laughter fell from Sanji’s lips. It was a great sound, something Zoro didn’t hear often. “Why did that make perfect sense?”
“Pft. Because I’m smart.”
Sanji laughed harder at this.
“Hey!” Zoro untied his hands from the shirt and flicked it at Sanji. “I am, too, smart.”
“You keep telling yourself that.”
Zoro sprang at Sanji, and this time he managed to tackle Sanji to the ground. They wrestled a bit. And maybe Zoro liked it, maybe he didn’t. He didn’t have to decide right now. All that mattered was, it was him and Sanji, together - where they belonged.
End