The Other L-Word

Zoro had come to the unhappy realization that he liked Sanji. Liked him in a way that involved touching. Liked him in a way that was more than nakama. Liked him in a way that maybe he wanted to talk to Sanji on purpose. Liked him in a way that might involve another L-word that Zoro refused to acknowledge. 

It started when Sanji had left. At first, Zoro couldn’t care less. Not really. There were more important things going on than some family drama - family that none of them even knew Sanji had - that Sanji had up and left them to deal with. There was maybe a tiny bit of concern once he’d overheard the whole warlords-beheading-loved-ones thing, because that would be the kind of nonsense that got Sanji into trouble. Sanji cared deeply about people. It was one of the things that made him, him. Still, Sanji told Nami that he’d be back, and he left a note that said he’d be back, so Zoro wasn’t going to concern himself about it. 

A week later, Zoro was concerned about it. Luffy had gone after Sanji, along with Nami, Brook, and Chopper. He hadn’t heard anything from them. Zoro had realized that if Luffy had a feeling that Sanji would need help, Zoro shouldn’t have dismissed it. Luffy was uncannily accurate when it came to things like that. 

Then came the thought that maybe Sanji had gotten married. It had been a joke, something offhand that Zoro said because Zoro said that kind of thing. But maybe the cook had gone through with it. Maybe there was now a Mrs. Sanji and they were trying to convince her - or Sanji - to return to the ship. Maybe Sanji had fallen in love.

And suddenly, Zoro was jealous. Snarling, stomping, slicing-everything-in-sight jealous. It made no sense. He had zero desire to get married, thought love was a farce, and knew women were as attractive as head lice. Why the hell would he be jealous that Sanji fell in love and got married? 

It took him way too long to realize he was jealous of her, not him. 

Zoro and emotions were not on speaking terms. He thought they were stupid. Training was important. Helping people was important. Becoming the best swordsman in the world was important. Emotions were an irritant that he had to deal with sometimes to get back to those important things. The fact that he was jealous was stupid, and the fact that he was jealous of her was stupider. He didn’t even like Sanji. Who cared if some girl loved and married him? Who cared if he didn’t come back?

Zoro cared. Damn it. That’s when that other L-word raised its ugly head to say hello. 

By the third week Sanji was gone, Zoro knew he had it bad because missed the cook. Really missed him. And not in a he-makes-good-food kind of way. He missed Sanji arguing with him and fighting with him and generally being a pain in the ass. He missed those idiotic suits that he thought were stupid to fight in because they restricted movement. He missed Sanji’s damned eyebrows and the way they curled in different directions and looked ridiculous. He missed Sanji’s hairy-assed, too pale legs that seemed to go up to those crazy eyebrows. He missed Sanji’s strength and attitude and heart. He missed the way Sanji gave his everything to everything. He missed Sanji.

This put him in a foul mood. He didn’t want any L-words in his life, especially not attached to Sanji. Zoro wandered the countryside as Zorojuro the Ronin, his alias in Wano, being annoyed by anyone and anything. When he saw some Beast Pirates chasing a local, Zoro was happy to cut them down. He hoped they had beer. Instead he found Luffy.

Luffy was an L-word Zoro didn’t mind. His Captain was a force of his own that sucked good people into his orbit and believed wholeheartedly in them. Still, Zoro refused to admit he was glad to see Luffy, who glomped on to him in a hug that smothered his face. Because if Luffy was in Wano, then Sanji might be in Wano, too. As casually as possible, he asked, “Is everyone else here?”

“Yeah. We got split up, but I bet they’re fine. Hey, you got some meat?”

And that was the end of the conversation. Luffy was onto something else and Zoro didn’t want to ask any of the questions that were on his tongue: did everyone include Sanji? Did he get married? What happened? How was Sanji? Would Luffy please bash Zoro on the head so he could stop with the Sanji-nonsense?

Instead, Zoro and Luffy beat up some Beast Pirates, fed a village, met up with Law, and headed up the mountain to Oden Castle. Somehow, Zoro managed to get lost off the back of a komainu, but he sometimes managed to get lost in a room with one exit, so whatever. One thing led to the next, Brook appeared and made gross remarks about Zoro sleeping with Hiyori, Toko ran off, and Zoro went to rescue her. 

And then, Zoro saw Sanji. He was instantly electrified, but it was the worst possible time. “Sorry. I don’t have time to waste with you, browgoro.”

“Right back at you, mossjuro,” Sanji sniped. 

Zoro shoved Toko into Sanji’s arms, knowing that Sanji would protect her, and launched an attack on the shogun Orochi, who’d just killed Toko’s father. Shit happened, as it usually did, and he didn’t see Sanji again for another two days, until the crew met up in Amigasa Village. 

Zoro pretended he felt nothing, which was the complete opposite of the truth. He wanted to go and touch Sanji’s shoulder, welcome him back, say he was missed - none of which was normal. He felt this weird ball of nervousness in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t like it. He wanted to go back to the time before he got these new, stupid emotions toward the cook. 

Sanji was… Sanji. Fawning over Hiyori. Cooking obsessively and excessively for everyone. Even being annoying toward Zoro. No one mentioned Sanji’s time away. It was as if he'd never left.

But he had left, and Zoro had worried about him, and gotten jealous because of him, and had missed him. And since Zoro would never admit any of these things out loud - he hated even admitting them to himself - he instead watched Sanji over the five days they had before the raid. 

And that’s why he noticed that Sanji was off. Not blatantly or obviously. Just tiny things here and there that made Zoro curious. Sanji would hesitate before approaching Nami or Luffy. He stood outside smoking cigarettes, shoulders slightly hunched, looking into the distance for an extended period. His heart-eyes toward Hiyori took a bit too long to appear. His desire to feed the people gathered took on an almost fanatical edge. 

It was weird, and not something Zoro would’ve noticed if he wasn’t acting weird himself. He didn’t say anything, though. Instead, he continued to watch Sanji and train with his new sword, Enma. 

Raid day came. The fighting was intense. Zoro got hurt badly but then Chopper fixed him. He went after King. And in the midst of battle, Sanji called Zoro on a mini den den mushi and made Zoro promise to kill him. 

Zoro didn’t know what the hell that was about, but he didn’t have time to deal with it. He was in a fight to the death with King and it required all his concentration. So he agreed to make it quick, hung up, and got back to business. 

He won, of course. And then his injuries took him out for a week. 

When he returned to the land of the conscious, he ate, drank, and pissed up a storm. The crew gathered in the courtyard garden of where they’d been put up, with their local friends. Hiyori said she’d bathed him, which he didn’t like, and while Sanji was yelling at him, he remembered his promise. He still didn’t know what the hell that had been about, so he asked Sanji the only way he knew how - by starting a fight.

Zoro launched himself at Sanji without warning, drawing his katanas in a single movement. “I must’ve returned from hell to fulfill my promise to kill you!” 

Sanji reacted instantly. He blocked Zoro’s two sword style with the heel of his foot. “I don’t need your help with that anymore!”

“You don’t ask a man to kill you and then take it back.” Zoro swung again, aiming for Sanji’s torso.

“I can take it back if I want to. It was my request to begin with.” Sanji backsprang out of the way, pivoted on his heel, and aimed a spin kick at Zoro’s hand to knock the sword from it.

Zoro twisted to block with the blade just in time. “Then why’d you make such an idiotic request to start with?”

“Because I thought I was turning into a monster.” Sanji pressed his attack, jumping onto his other foot to kick at Zoro’s other hand. “I thought I wasn’t going to be myself anymore.”

“That doesn’t explain anything.” Zoro managed to block with the other blade. He’d forgotten how good Sanji was at fighting after over a month of not doing it. 

“It’s too complicated for your tiny brain to understand.” Sanji leapt in the air, spinning a third time, with his foot aimed for Zoro’s head. With Zoro’s hands twisted from blocking Sanji’s other kicks, he couldn’t get his blades up in time. Sanji’s shoe connected solidly with Zoro’s forehead. Zoro went flying.

He crashed into the garden wall. Petals rained around him. He landed on his feet and shook off the impact. They weren’t fighting with haki, but it still hurt. He heard Chopper yelling at them, but he ignored the doctor.

Sanji ran at Zoro, planning another kick. Zoro put up his guard. He still wanted answers. “Explain it anyway, dartbrow.”

Sanji launched another kick and Zoro brought up his blades in defense. Sanji abruptly stopped with his foot against Zoro’s crossed swords, with zero impact. He glanced toward their nakama. Zoro’s landing site put them farther away from the others, almost giving them privacy. 

When Sanji looked back at Zoro, Zoro could see a storm of emotions behind his eyes. Then, Sanji admitted quietly, "I was afraid what my father did to me would turn me into one of them."

Zoro was surprised, both by Sanji’s words and the fact that he'd shared something with Zoro. They didn't share. Not really. They argued and fought and got their thoughts across at the same time. Usually they were thoughts of annoyance and sometimes about food. Occasionally it was a question about something going on when they were helping one island nation or another. But real sharing?

"I..." Zoro didn't know how to respond. But he wanted to. He wanted to know what was going on in Sanji’s brain, what was worrying him, why he'd been off. He finally said, "You're never afraid."

Sanji snorted. "Then you haven't been paying attention."

He lowered his foot and turned to walk away, but Zoro darted in front of him. "No. Don't."

"Don't what, shit swordsman?"

Zoro forced the words out. "Go. I want you to... talk... to me."

Sanji’s brow climbed his forehead. "Talk. To you. "

"That's what I said." Zoro glared at him. "Are you gonna make something of it?"

Sanji stared at him like he'd been kicked in the head too hard. "Did I kick you in the head too hard?"

"No." Zoro thought about attacking Sanji again to make this less awkward. He clenched the hilts of his katanas and resisted. "Just... talk to me. I'm..." He grit his teeth and finished his sentence. "...worried."

Sanji’s eyes widened slightly. "Worried? Since when?"

Zoro tilted his chin defiantly, daring Sanji to make a deal of it. "Since now. Since you left. Since I said so." 

"Since I left?" Trust Sanji to pick that statement to focus on.

"Yeah. So?" Zoro was too stubborn to stop. "You left, and then after a while I got worried that Luffy was right to worry, and I didn't hear anything for weeks until I saw Luffy again, but he didn't say much other than maybe you were back. Then you were acting off in Amigasa Village. And then you asked me to kill you. And I'm fucking worried."

Sanji stared at Zoro a long moment before glancing past his shoulder. "Not here." Sanji turned on his heel and headed into the residence. Zoro sheathed his katanas and followed.

The residence they’d been offered to stay at was a simple four-room home. Two bedrooms, a main living area, and a kitchen. A small bath completed the area. The shoji walls and wood floors were complemented by bamboo and wicker furniture. Sanji led Zoro into the kitchen, sliding the shoji door shut behind them. 

The kitchen was small. It had a counter that ran in an L shape along the back wall. A stove and refrigerator stood near each other. A window was set above the sink. Upper and lower cabinets were made from natural wood. 

Sanji opened the refrigerator, took out a bottle of wine and a bottle of sake, and shut the door. He offered Zoro the sake before retrieving a glass and pouring himself wine. He lit a cigarette and leaned against the sink. His body was coiled tightly, as if he didn’t want to do this. He studied Zoro again, contemplatively.

Zoro uncorked the sake with his teeth and took a long guzzle. This emotion-shit was taxing. He set the bottle down, leaned back against the side counter, and crossed his arms. “Well?”

Sanji took a deep drag off his cigarette before answering. “What do you know about the Vinsmokes?”

Zoro shrugged. “Only what I overheard. They’re assholes.” He realized after he said it that Sanji was a Vinsmoke and he’d just called the cook an asshole. Oh, well. Sanji was an asshole at times. 

Sanji stared at him a moment, then burst out laughing. “That is an apt description.” The rigidity in his posture vanished. “Yes, they’re assholes. My illustrious father is the ruler of the Germa Kingdom. He loves war. He wanted to make perfect super soldiers to fight his wars so he genetically modified my three brothers and myself to be those soldiers. It worked on them, not me. At least, not until my fight with Queen. Then the modifications kicked into gear. I thought the package included becoming a psychopath, but apparently I still have my emotions.”

Zoro had trouble following Sanji’s abbreviated history. He decided to go with the part he understood. “You wanted me to kill you if you became a psychopath.”

Sanji nodded. “Yes. It didn’t happen, so you can forget about it.”

“Okay.” Zoro preferred not to have to kill Sanji, anyway. “Anything else I should know?” If they were going to do this talking thing, Zoro wanted to be done all at once. It was difficult enough without having to do it multiple times. 

Sanji took another drag on his cigarette. “I was disowned for the second time, so hopefully I’ll never have to see any of those assholes again.”

Zoro wasn’t sure why that was relevant, but whatever. What he really wanted to know was stupid and he had to make himself ask. Because if he didn’t find out, it would drive him crazy. “Did you get married?”

“No.” Sanji shook his head. “It was a ruse to get the Vinsmokes together to kill them - and me - and steal Germa technology.”

“What about the girl?”

“What girl?” Sanji asked.

“The one you were gonna marry,” Zoro said, bracing himself for the answer. Stupid emotions. “Did you love her?”

Despair stole across Sanji’s face. He lowered his chin, hiding behind his hair. “No. I could have, eventually, but she thought I was a joke.”

Zoro suddenly had the urge to hug Sanji. He shoved it away and instead replied, “You don’t tell jokes.”

Sanji gave him a sad smile. “Not that kind of joke.” He picked up his wineglass and left the kitchen without another word. 

It took Zoro way too long to work out what that meant. Why couldn’t people just say things outright? When he finally did figure it out, he got pissed. He stormed out of the kitchen and back to the garden courtyard. He found Luffy with his head stuck in a picnic basket.

“Where’s this chick Sanji was supposed to marry?” Zoro demanded to know.

Luffy popped his head free from the basket. “Whole Cake Island, probably. Why?” He studied Zoro for a moment, then grinned widely. “You should tell him how you feel. He needs to hear it. Especially right now.”

Zoro sputtered. “What– how–”

But Luffy was already onto something else. “Ne, Usopp, guess what?” he called and sprang off. 

Zoro was still standing there, vacillating from murderous intent to shock and dismay. How did Luffy do that? Zoro didn’t even want to fully admit his feelings for Sanji to himself and Luffy already knew. 

And what was with the ‘especially right now’ thing? Why especially now? Was it because of the modification shit? They already had that conversation and Sanji seemed fine. 

No, that wasn’t it. Zoro realized it was the sadness and despair that Zoro had seen on Sanji’s face. The fact that some chick he didn’t love thought he was a joke had really hurt him. Or maybe there was something else going on. Something to do with the odd way he’d been acting that didn’t get explained. Sanji had said the modifications hadn’t kicked in until he was fighting Queen. That was after Zoro had noticed his strange behavior. What else had gone down on Whole Cake Island?

Zoro glanced over to where Sanji was chatting with Brook and Kin’emon. Sanji seemed okay. But the more Zoro watched, the more he could see the tension in Sanji’s jawline and a brittle edge to his smile. Zoro’s emotions wanted him to do something about it. Zoro’s body wanted him to run the other way. His brain wanted a nap from too much thinking. 

Zoro decided that he had enough talking for one day, so he opted to listen to his brain and went inside to take a nap. 

Zoro’s emotions tried to get him to do things over the next week but he stuck his fingers in his ears and pretended he couldn’t hear them. Sanji was suffering from blood loss, anyway, after Yamato joined them in the onsen and Chopper had him on infusions and house arrest. 

Eventually, the Straw Hats set sail from Wano, leaving the freed kingdom behind. Zoro was glad to be back on the ship. He’d spent a month in Wano Country and was itching to move again. King had been a hard challenge, another step on his road to becoming the world’s greatest swordsman. But there were other challenges awaiting him elsewhere.

Being back on the ship did have a downfall, though. Zoro couldn’t avoid Sanji. He tried, but since Sanji insisted everyone eat at the table for meals it wasn’t going to happen. Zoro did notice that Sanji seemed to be pleased to be back in the galley on the Sunny. Maybe it was the sense of being home again. 

Zoro could feel it, too. It was good to be back in his training room again and his own bunk. He enjoyed the rhythm of the ship beneath his feet. The chaos caused by ten people in a small space played a familiar background song. The fresh sea air cleared the mind and felt good in the lungs. 

Of course, being back on the ship sailing to a new port of call meant that Zoro’s time was idle again. Training and napping took up most of the hours, but that left hours for him to do nothing but think - and feel. His emotions were still hanging around, waiting for him to do something. He hadn’t stopped liking Sanji despite trying to train it away. That other L-word still lingered in the background, waiting for Zoro to acknowledge it. He knew he wouldn’t get any peace until he acted. 

Zoro borrowed paper and a pencil from Chopper and holed himself up in the crow’s nest. The crow’s nest doubled as Zoro’s training room. A wooden bench seat ran around the perimeter of the circular room with windows set above it. A telescope and binoculars were available for the person on watch. Zoro had a weight rack, barbells, and shelves of dumbbells in the room. The rest of the floor space was bare, giving him a place to lift and run katas.

Seated cross-legged on the bench beneath one of the windows, Zoro made a plan. First on the list: learning if Sanji was into guys. If he wasn’t, then Zoro could happily forget about everything and get himself over this stupid L-related infatuation. He would’ve gone that route to begin with, but Luffy’s… reaction? Blessing? Prodding?... whatever, made him want to at least try. He wasn’t a quitter. 

Second, if Sanji liked dicks, Zoro figured he should do something about Sanji’s sad-despair-weirdness. He would do something about it either way, but it still came second on his list.

Third, Zoro should somehow let Sanji know that he was an available dick. He’d meant it as being an option, but it got Zoro sidetracked by sex-thoughts - specifically sex-thoughts with Sanji, which was new and super hot - and now his paper had a stain on it. 

Fourth, after using the towel to wipe off the paper, Zoro wrote down that he should probably try some of that romance shit. He wanted Sanji to know that Zoro was interested. Interested in what, Zoro didn’t know. But Sanji should know that Zoro liked him in a way that was more than nakama. 

Fifth, if the above succeeded, maybe he’d consider thinking about the L-word. 

Satisfied with his plan, Zoro folded it and tucked it into his haramaki. He was Roronoa Zoro of the Straw Hat crew. The second to an emperor. He could do this.

Zoro got his opportunity to check number one off his list when the Sunny docked at a small island a few days later. The idea of simply asking Sanji made Zoro want to jump into the sea, so he nixed it. Subtlety was the way to go. 

Lessismore Island was visible from their log pose route and Luffy wanted to stop. They hadn’t been sailing for long, but it didn’t hurt to restock when the opportunity arose. Jinbe aimed the ship for the dock and the crew disembarked to visit the town. Robin volunteered to watch Luffy, and Jinbe opted to keep watch on the Sunny. Franky and Usopp wandered off together, while Nami, Brook and Chopper went a different direction. 

Zoro timed his exit, coinciding his walk down the gangplank at the same time as Sanji, and got pressed into pack mule duty. Perfect.

Lessismore appeared to be a colorful clapboard village, with vendor stalls set up outside of homes. Handcrafted goods, fruits, and drinks were all available to buy. Crushed stone paths wound through the houses in random patterns. Children ran back and forth, screaming with laughter. The locals wore garb similar to Wano but with more flair. 

Zoro followed Sanji around, adding bags to his arms whenever Sanji shoved one at him after purchase. So far, they’d only seen women at the vendor stalls to Sanji’s delight and Zoro’s disgruntledness. Sanji made a fool of himself every time. It was sickening. No woman would appreciate that type of behavior. No man, either. It was almost as if Sanji was doing it as a horn-dog reaction rather than actual affection.

Zoro contemplated this idea. It seemed to fit. Brook did the same thing, only he flat out asked to see a woman’s panties. That cinched it. Sanji was a pervert. 

“You’re a pervert,” Zoro told him after they left the vendor stall. 

“I am not!” Sanji acted affronted. 

“You only act that way around girls because you find them attractive. So you’re getting horny over them. No question, you’re a pervert.”

Sanji tried to kick him, but Zoro blocked with the bags. “Take that back! I appreciate women for their delicacy and beauty. They should be worshiped.”

“Haven’t seen you worshiping all of them,” Zoro pointed out. There’d been a couple of old ladies and one woman around their age who wore her extra long hair covering her face and front of her body.

“That’s different!”

“Is it?” Zoro scratched his chin. “Seems like pervert-behavior to me.”

Sanji sputtered a few times, trying to defend himself. Zoro thought this was a good time to find out the answer to number one. “Why don’t you do it to hot guys?” he asked. “Like that guy there?”

Zoro had noticed there was a guy selling glass bottles and decorations three stalls down. He was kinda hot. A little older, but still fit. Zoro probably wouldn’t say no if he got hit on. 

Sanji glanced at where Zoro was looking. “Is that your way of telling me that you’re horny? I’ll take the bags. You don’t get laid enough and it shows.”

“My sex life is none of your business!” Zoro exclaimed. Except, he realized, number three on his list was kinda about his sex life.

Sanji looked amused. “See, not laid enough.”

“This isn’t about me,” Zoro deflected, “it’s about you and your being a pervert.”

“I’m not a pervert!” Sanji launched an attack, Zoro dropped the shopping bags, pulled his katanas, and they were off. 

Sanji spun, kicked, and flipped his way around Zoro. Zoro held his ground, blocking and striking in return. Children gathered around them with glee. The vendors looked on with dismay. Zoro and Sanji contained their fighting to a small area between houses, until they both heard Nami yell from a distance, “If you two don’t stop it, I’ll beat your heads in!”

“Yes, Nami-san!” Sanji called back, immediately halting the fight. Zoro huffed in annoyance. He’d been enjoying that fight. “Get the bags, mosshead.”

“Get them yourself,” Zoro said, sliding his katanas into their sheathes.

Sanji grinned wickedly. “That mean you’re going to get laid?”

“My sex life is still none of your business!” Zoro snagged the bags off the ground, draping the handles over his arms ago. He started to storm off, but Sanji grabbed him by the collar. 

“Not so fast, idiot. Can’t have you getting lost.” Sanji pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and fell into step with Zoro. The children made sounds of disappointment and scattered again. The vendors breathed a sigh of relief. 

Zoro cut a glance at Sanji as they bypassed the glass seller for vendors further down the street. “You never answered me, cook.”

“About?” 

“Why you don’t make an ass out of yourself toward other men?”

Sanji blew out a stream of smoke as he replied, “Guys are different.”

Zoro didn’t understand. Did that mean Sanji was into guys or not? Why couldn’t he talk like a normal person? “What does that mean?”

“You’re into guys. You know.”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I knew!” Zoro was exasperated. This is why he didn’t like talking. 

Sanji dodged a ball thrown in his path by one of the playing kids. “Why so interested, marimo?”

“Do you fucking like guys or not, idiot cook?!” Zoro shouted, causing heads to turn his way. He glared at everyone looking at him. He was at his last nerve’s end. 

Sanji eyed him suspiciously. “Is this some kind of test?”

“Gah! You drive me insane!” Zoro shoved the bags at him. “Carry your own damned bags. I can’t take any more of you.”

Zoro stalked off before Sanji could stop him.

Zoro ended up with a view of the ocean. The view didn’t have the Sunny docked in it, so he figured he was on the other side of the island. He’d stalked away from Sanji in a random direction and had kept going until his irritation subsided. Considering it was Sanji who caused it, it took a while. 

Worse, he still didn’t have an answer. All that talking was for nothing. Why did people bother trying to have conversations? People either didn’t answer questions or said things that made no sense. It was asinine. Zoro had better ways to spend his time. 

Zoro dropped to the ground and opted to meditate a bit. The sun was still high, and it shouldn’t take him that long to find the Sunny again. All he had to do was follow the coast. 

Due to regular meditative practice, it took him no time to find his center and breath. Once his mind had cleared and he felt refreshed, Zoro climbed to his feet. He decided if Sanji didn’t answer number one, he could skip to number two - which he was going to do even if number one was a no - and then he could forget about this whole stupid L-thing.

Zoro reached the Sunny around nightfall. He’d had to take a detour when he’d run into a river cutting through the island, which had resulted in a fight with some weird gorilla-bear creature that he now carried over his shoulders, dead. He brought the animal aboard and dropped it on the deck lawn. “Oi, cook! You here?” he called, thinking Sanji might be back.

Sanji was, and he came out of the galley door. “About time you resurfaced. The others went into town again for dinner.”

“Why’re you here then?” Zoro said with a frown. Sanji wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to taste local food. 

“I took watch.” Sanji came down the steps and over to the corpse. He nudged it with his toe. “What is this?”

“Thought you might want to cook it.” 

“Hn. Maybe.” Sanji crouched down to examine the animal more closely. “There was a butcher in town. I’d have to get it there tonight.”

“Go ahead. I’ll take watch.” Zoro had brought the animal here. If Sanji wanted to trek back to town, it was on his shoulders. 

Sanji nodded. “There’s sandwiches in the galley. Don’t eat them all, that’s my dinner.”

“No.” Zoro shook his head. “I said I got watch. You go eat with the others. You like that kind of thing. I don’t care one way or the other.”

Sanji studied him for a moment. “You sure?”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it, idiot,” Zoro said. 

Sanji nodded, picked up the creature, and started for the gangplank. He paused at the top. Not turning, he said, “To answer your question, I do.”

“Do what?” 

“Like guys, too,” Sanji said. “But if you throw it back in my face, I will kill you.”

He descended the gangplank without another word. Zoro stood on the main deck lawn, staring after him first with shock that he’d answered, even though it was hours later, followed by a brief spurt of elation. Then he realized that his first step on his list was a success and was filled with dismay. 

He was one step closer to the L-word.

The second item on Zoro’s list was to figure out Sanji’s weirdness. It hadn’t tapered since they’d been at sea. Sanji still hesitated when he approached Luffy or Nami. He fawned over both girls a lot less. He spent more time in the galley than normal. He also had nightmares off and on.

The nightmares were new. On the whole, the men of the Straw Hat crew didn’t have many nightmares. Even Usopp, who was afraid of the nose on his shadow. They tended to sleep as hard as they fought, ensuring full restfulness for any battles ahead. Only the person on watch kept awake through the night.

Zoro took naps during the day, which meant he didn’t sleep as heavily as the others at night. Therefore, he heard Sanji tossing and turning on his bunk every time before the blond jolted awake. Sometimes Sanji would gasp. Sometimes he would say, “No.” Sometimes he would make a small sound of distress that made Zoro want to leap out of bed, draw his swords, and slay whatever demons were attacking Sanji. 

Every time a nightmare would happen, Sanji would sit for a minute after he woke before getting out of bed. He’d go and sit at the table in the boys’ room and smoke a cigarette before returning to bed. Occasionally, he’d fall back to sleep on the couch instead.

The men’s quarters on the Sunny held four double-bunks chained from the ceiling, a row of lockers for their gear, a sink to wash up, and a square sunken table with sunken sofas surrounding it. Their wanted posters hung on the wall, one tacked over the other as time passed. Laundry, wadded papers, fallen pencils, books, scattered cards, and other random things littered the floor. They cleaned the room once a month, although the laundry was done weekly. 

Zoro had stirred when the now-familiar sound of Sanji having a nightmare reached his ears. This one ended with that distressed sound. Zoro waited until Sanji had situated himself on the couch before climbing out of bed himself. Zoro had decided he’d had enough of putting off number two on his list. Whether he liked Sanji or not, his nakama was hurting and he was going to do something about it.

Zoro brought his blanket with him, draping it around his shoulders as he padded barefoot over to the sofa. He claimed a seat catty-corner to the blond. Dim moonlight shone through the portholes in the two doors. Sanji wore maroon pajama bottoms, his chest bare. Sanji cast a glance at him, a cigarette hanging from his lips. “What do you want, marimo?” he said tiredly.

“I want to know what your nightmares are about,” Zoro told him. They pitched their voices low so as not to disturb the others. “You’re getting too many of them.”

“My apologies for not controlling how often I have them.” Sarcasm dripped from Sanji’s lips.

“Don’t. I’m being serious.” Zoro didn’t have difficulty finding his words this time. Maybe it was because there was a problem that needed fixing. “Something’s going on. I want to know what it is.”

Sanji exhaled a puff of smoke in irritation. “It’s none of your business.”

“No, we’re not going to do this.” Zoro folded his arms across bare his chest. The blanket shifted on his shoulders. “I don’t like talking, so the sooner you tell me what’s been eating at you since you apparently got back, the sooner we can stop.”

Sanji’s shoulders tensed. “I told you, it’s none–”

Zoro interrupted him with a low, sharp, “Stop. It is too my fucking business. You’re no good to us if your head’s not on right.”

Sanji winced as if he’d been struck. Zoro was taken aback. What the hell was that? 

Abruptly, Sanji stood and strode quickly from the men’s quarters without saying a word. Zoro chased after him. Sanji was across the lawn, up the stairs, heading for the galley. Zoro was at his heels. “Oi, cook–”

“Don’t!” Sanji turned around and shoved him. “Just leave me the fuck alone!”

Zoro grabbed his arms. “What the hell? I already told you that’s not going to happen.”

Sanji had a wild look in his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it! I just want these thoughts to go the fuck away.”

“What thoughts?” Zoro wanted to shake him. “Tell me already, damn it.”

“That I’m not fucking good enough!” Sanji practically screamed in his face. “That I’m a fucking disappointment and worthless and all that shit my father dragged back to the surface! That Luffy shouldn’t have forgiven me for what I did! That Nami-san shouldn’t have forgiven me! That I’m damned stupid to think that things might go back to normal, only to have my father’s fucking experiment start working!”

Sanji was trembling under Zoro’s hands, his breaths coming in heaving pants. The cigarette had fallen from his lips to land near their bare feet. Zoro wanted to kill something – anything – to make Sanji stop looking like he was about to shatter. But all he had was his words. Fuck.

“I’m not good at this,” Zoro admitted, lowering his voice again, trying to calm Sanji. “I don’t know what to say to make you stop hurting. And I want to make it stop.”

Moisture appeared in Sanji’s eyes and he jerked his gaze away. His breath hitched.

Zoro panicked. Sanji was going to cry. “No, no, no, no, no. Don’t do that. I really don’t know what to do about that.” Zoro grabbed the blanket hanging on his shoulders and wrapped it around Sanji. Then he manhandled Sanji through the door to the galley, flipped on the light, and propelled him to sit on the couch that lined the wall between the doors to storage and the infirmary. 

The galley was divided in two by a bar with bench seating. A large table, big enough for the entire crew, with individual chairs bolted to the floor around it, took up the rest of the space on that half of the room. A service elevator stood beside the door to the deck. The kitchen area filled the other portion. It held plenty of storage, a stove top, an oven, and a large, padlocked refrigerator. A sink stood placed in the prep counter that ran along the bar. Wall sconces provided illumination. 

Zoro left Sanji on the couch and rushed into the kitchen. Crying people liked tea, right? Or was that for sickness? Zoro didn’t know, but he did know how to make tea. He found the kettle, filled it with water, and put it on the stove top burner. He rooted around until he found the tea leaves and infuser. He packed them in and once the water boiled, added it to the kettle to let it steep. 

Maybe he should find food, too. He got irritated more easily when he was hungry and was fine after he ate. Maybe it worked the same for crying. Zoro opened and closed cabinets until he found a stockpile of crackers. He located a serving tray, opened the containers, and dumped all the crackers onto the tray. What went with crackers? Cheese. Meat. Spreading stuff. That was locked in the fridge and he wasn’t going to try to get the key from Sanji. Zoro remembered Sanji’s last cracker tray, found a jar of olives, opened it, and dumped its contents on the crackers. It made the crackers soggy and the tray slosh, but whatever.

He transferred the steeped tea to the biggest mug he could find – more tea, less tears, he figured – and carried it and the tray over to Sanji. 

Sanji sat forward on the couch, face in his hands, shoulders hunched. The blanket shrouded his shoulders. Zoro set the tray beside him and nudged Sanji’s hands with the mug. “Here. Drink this.”

Sanji lowered his hands. His face looked like he’d been crying, but there were no tears evident. He better not have used Zoro’s blanket as a snot rag. Sanji took the mug and peered in it. “Tea?”

“Yeah.” Zoro turned one of the swivel chairs around and sat across from Sanji. He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his knees. “Drink it.”

Sanji took a sip and looked surprised. His voice was roughened from crying when he spoke. “It’s not bad.”

“I’m not an idiot. I know how to make tea,” Zoro said.

Sanji glanced at the tray Zoro had placed beside him with a pained expression. “What’s that supposed to be?”

“That shark-board you made the other time, with the crackers and olives and cheese and meats and stuff,” Zoro said. “Fridge is locked. You only get the crackers and olives.”

Sanji’s lips twitched with amusement, which was much better than crying. “Charcuterie board.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” Zoro studied him. “You done crying now?”

Sanji dropped his chin, so Zoro couldn’t see his eyes. “Yes.” He sounded mortified.

“Okay, good.” Zoro was relieved. He didn’t like tears, even his own, which is why he’d only cried a couple times in his life. “Now, I don’t know what the hell happened on Whole Cake Island, but you’re here now, which means Luffy and Nami have obviously forgiven you for whatever dumb shit you did. So put that thought to rest.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Of course it is,” Zoro said. “But if you still think you need to apologize, apologize. Then they’ll forgive you and it’s done.”

Sanji took another drink of tea, not saying anything. Zoro didn’t know if he’d gotten through that thick skull or not. He went on anyway. “As for the father-thing, I don’t know what to tell you. My folks are dead. Have been for so long that I can’t really picture them anymore. The people I count as family are on this ship. Maybe you should start doing the same.”

“I didn’t know you had parents,” Sanji murmured. “Thought you’d sprouted from a moss patch.”

There was the Sanji Zoro knew and refused to acknowledge the L-word about. “That other crap you were spouting? Horseshit. If you were any of those things, I wouldn’t acknowledge your existence, let alone talk to you. And I hate talking. Stop beating yourself up over nothing.”

Sanji contemplated Zoro through still-damp lashes as he took another sip from the mug. “Why do you care?”

Because I like you, Zoro almost said before biting his tongue. It hurt. He scrambled for a reply he’d be willing to say. “Because you’re being more of a dumbass than usual and I don’t like it.”

“Hn.” Sanji’s non-helpful response didn’t indicate whether he bought what Zoro told him or not. Even though it was also true. Sanji continued to study him over the rim of the mug. “Your tongue is bleeding.”

“What?” Zoro stuck his tongue out and tried to see it. It was blurry and he couldn’t make out much. Maybe if he pulled on it.

Sanji laughed softly. “And I’m the dumbass.”

Zoro glanced at Sanji above his fingers pulling on his tongue. Sanji’s expression of amusement was good to see. Zoro let go of his tongue, sucked the blood from it, and asked, “You good now?”

Sanji didn’t answer immediately. Zoro thought he’d failed to fix it. He didn’t know what else to do and was about to say as much, when Sanji said, “I think I will be.”

Zoro blew out a relieved breath. His words actually worked. It didn’t make him want to talk any more often, but at least this was worth the effort. He rose to his feet. “Okay. I’m going back to bed.”

“I think I’ll stay here awhile,” Sanji said. 

Zoro was about to demand his blanket back, but Sanji still looked like he needed it. Probably to blow his nose. “I’m taking your blanket off your bunk. You keep that one.”

Sanji nodded, taking another drink of tea. 

Zoro headed for the door. Sanji’s voice caught him before he crossed the threshold. “Thanks, marimo.”

Zoro paused and glanced back. Sanji looked small sitting on the couch beneath the blanket. It made him want to scoop Sanji up and shield him from the world. Instead, he told Sanji a different truth. “You’re worth it.”

A couple weeks later, Zoro thought he could probably check off the second thing on his list. Sanji had been standing taller, acting more confident. His nightmares got further apart. When he’d been ascending the rigging to the crow’s nest, Zoro had spotted him talking to Nami alone. Maybe he’d actually taken Zoro’s words to heart. 

This meant that Zoro had to move on to step three. He needed to let Sanji know that Zoro was available. He wasn’t sure how to go about this. Sanji already knew Zoro was into guys, not girls. Maybe that meant he could check number three off his list already? Probably not. Sanji needed to see Zoro as an option for himself, not as a nakama who liked dudes. 

But how to go about it? After that night spent talking to Sanji, Zoro had barely spoken to anyone over the past two weeks. Maybe he needed to break out his words again. But what would he say? Hey, if you’re looking to hook up with a guy, I’m available. Zoro shuddered even thinking about it. 

He probably had to do that subtle thing again. Even though it had made him crazy the first time, it had worked. Sanji had told Zoro that he was into both girls and guys. The Sunny would need to dock at another island, though. 

Three days later, the Sunny did just that. In Zoro’s opinion, Domeron Island poked from the sea like the ocean had a hard on. The port stood at the base and a road wound its way in circles up to the tip. A town stood at the flattened top. Skinny evergreens and woody shrubs grew between stone buildings. Locals wore heavier clothing against the colder weather at the higher altitude. The air was thin. There had been several ships docked at port and the town was lively. It was a good place to take a sailing break. 

Zoro purposefully joined Sanji again, this time with Chopper, as they wandered through the shops. He needed an opportunity to mention his availability. It might be more difficult with Chopper there, but maybe he could do it while the doctor was distracted.

They primarily strolled in and out of shops that sold food, medical supplies, and cookware. Chopper stocked up on bandages, medicine and stuff to make medicine. Sanji bought supplies for the ship. Zoro dragged the cart for the time being. Chopper would transform into his four-hooved reindeer body to transport the supplies back to the ship. 

“I’d like to duck in here,” Sanji said when they came upon a shop that sold men’s clothing. Of course he did. The cook’s prissy suits had to come from somewhere. 

Chopper agreed, and Zoro followed them in. He wasn’t worried about the cart of supplies. If someone made off with them, it would lead to a fight and Zoro was all for that. Shopping was mind-numbingly boring. 

Sanji found a row of dress shirts and was looking through them. Chopper disappeared in the maze of displays and racks of clothing. A counter stood near the door to the shop with a single well-dressed man behind it. Another well-dressed man flitted around with a tape measure draped around his neck. Sanji fit right in with his navy pinstriped suit, white shirt, and navy tie. At the back of the shop stood a platform, mirrors, and a bin full of chalk and pins. A door was open to the back room, and Zoro could see bolts of material and sewing equipment. 

The guy behind the counter eyed Zoro with interest. The guy with the tape measure took one look at Zoro and gasped in dismay. “What are you wearing? No, no, this is all wrong!”

Zoro glanced down at himself. He wore his usual black trousers, green long coat, haramaki and sash. Even though it was cold, he hadn’t worn a shirt. His bandana was tied around his arm. His katanas were at his side. 

“Don’t bother with him,” Sanji spoke up. “He has the fashion sense of a sea slug.”

“Tell me this is not true!” Tape-measure guy put a hand to his forehead. “He has such broad shoulders and a broad chest. He should be wearing clothing that compliments him!”

Zoro frowned. “My clothes are fine.” Clothes were clothes. They covered what they needed to cover, and as long as he could move in them, he didn’t care what he wore.

Sanji walked over and eyed Zoro critically. “He could use a shirt to wear under that coat. He walks around like everyone wants to see his chest.”

“Maybe they do,” Zoro said defensively. “I’m not that bad looking.”

Sanji’s eyebrow and corner of his lips raised at the same time. “Are you saying that you like to advertise yourself?”

“What? No.” Zoro folded his arms across his exposed chest. He was starting to feel self-conscious, which annoyed him. “You should talk, wearing those nice suits like you’re some sort of handsome peacock on display.”

Sanji brought his hand up to smooth his tie, with a surprised look on his face. “You think I’m handsome?”

Zoro almost reflexively said no, which would have been a lie, but they tended to bring out the contrary in each other. Plus, this was that opportunity to check off number three on the list. He still needed to gear himself up to admit it, and he could feel his face heating when he spoke. “Yeah, I do.” 

Sanji smoothed his tie again, faint color blooming on his cheeks. He cleared his throat before speaking. “Right. Forget about the marimo. I’ll take a few shirts, if you have the time to alter them.”

“Of course! We guarantee same day alterations,” Tape-measure guy said.

Sanji glanced at Zoro once more, with contemplation, before heading back to the dress shirts. Tape-measure guy followed.

Chopper appeared with his arms filled with shirts. “Look what I found! They have a section toward the back that’s all in my size!” He danced in place with a huge smile. “I’m not pleased about it at all!”

Zoro dropped his arms to his sides, counted what happened as a success, and gave Chopper a half-smile. “I hope you have enough money for all that.”

Number four on Zoro’s list required more knowledge than he had and he had to figure out how to get it. The person who knew the most about romance was the person Zoro was trying to romance, so asking Sanji wouldn’t work. He thought about asking Robin, as she’d be the one who’d be least likely to harass him about it, but he wasn’t ready to let anyone on the crew know that he had a thing for the cook. This meant he had to find an outside source to fill him in on this romantic shit.

The Sunny was still docked at Domeron. After dropping off the supplies, Zoro decided to venture by himself back to town. As there was only one road to and from port, Zoro wasn’t worried that he wouldn’t find his way back to the ship on his own. He never worried anyway. Someone either found him or he managed to find the ship eventually.

Zoro wandered through town, eyeing shops, hoping for inspiration. He stopped at a swordsmith to pick up polish. He passed a tavern, heard bawdy conversation and loud pirate laughter coming from within, and decided it was doubtful anyone there would know about romance. Maybe that guy behind the counter at the men’s clothing store would know. He wore suits like Sanji and appeared to be into guys. Zoro could possibly get laid and information all at once.

When no interest stirred in his trousers, Zoro figured it was a bad idea. He was kind of wanting to have sex with just Sanji anyway, even though they hadn’t done it yet. Probably had something to do with that L-word. 

His mind started to wander to thoughts of sex with Sanji, what he might do, what he might like. Was he straight-laced or did he have bite? Did he like to suck, fuck, be fucked, or all of the above? Was he adventurous, controlling, or the opposite? Behind locked doors or in the open? A giver or a taker? Into toys? Would he want something monogamous or was he into sleeping around? Did he want to have sex with more than one person at once?

Zoro was extremely glad he had a long coat on that covered his crotch until he found the nearest public restroom and rubbed one off in one of the stalls. If Sanji was half as good as he was in Zoro’s imagination, their sex life would be awesome. 

Able to walk normally again, Zoro continued his search for some help with number four. He came upon a bookseller and paused his steps. This place might have the answers and he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone, then. It could be a win-win. 

Zoro went inside. The bookshop was a warren of rows and shelves of books that went nearly up the ceiling. An elderly gentleman stood behind a counter with a register near the door. Placards hung from the ends of shelves and along the faces of shelves indicating what was located where. He wouldn’t even have to ask.

The bookseller did, though. “Good evening. May I help you find anything in particular?”

Zoro thought about saying no, but he also didn’t want to spend hours searching. The shop was pretty big. “I need a book that tells me how to do romantic shit.”

If the bookseller was surprised or curious about the request, he didn’t let on. “That would be in our self-help section. Follow me.”

The bookseller came from behind the counter and led the way deeper into the shop. Zoro wouldn’t have thought to look in the self-help section. Zoro didn’t know what a self-help section was. He would’ve thought it would’ve been under romance. 

The bookseller stopped in front of a random tall bookcase somewhere in the shop. “Here we are.” He pointed to a full row of books. “These should assist you. If you require anything else, do not hesitate to ask.”

With a short bow, the bookseller left Zoro alone. Zoro watched the guy go, then realized he might not find his way out. Oh well. He supposed the bookseller would eventually come and find him again if he didn’t turn up in a few hours. 

Zoro turned his attention to the books on the shelf. He ran his finger across the titles. They seemed to be all about girls. How to Talk to Women. A Man’s Guide to Women. The Tactical Guide to Women. The Forever Woman. Attracting Women. How to Romance and Win a Woman’s Heart. Become the Man Women Want. Finding the Perfect Woman. Sanji wasn’t a woman, so none of these would help. There had to be something about guys on this shelf. He really didn’t want to have to ask someone what to do.

Finally, he located a handful of books that focused on men. What a Man Wants from a Relationship. Never Chase a Man. The Women’s Guide to Seduction. The Rules on Dating: Advice for Women. Nestled between Get the Guy of Your Dreams and What Men Wish You Knew was the title Romantic Gestures for Him. Zoro pulled it out. It was written by a guy, and it looked like it was for women to read, but it actually had the word romantic in the title. 

He flipped through the pages. It appeared to be a list of things to do with explanations as to why. A couple of the suggestions involved breasts, but the majority appeared to be general things that anyone could do. This was the book he wanted. Number four on the list was a go. Now, he just had to find the way out of the shop.

Zoro gave up finding the entrance after a while, took a seat on the floor, and began reading the book. A lot of the suggestions were about touching or food. A few were about buying flowers or something he’d been wanting or knew he’d like. Writing notes and complimenting were also suggested, as was changing up the wardrobe to something he liked. Zoro thought back to the shirt comment at the men’s clothing shop. Could it be that simple? Zoro still had his suit from Dressrosa. It was shoved in the bottom of his locker on the Sunny. He didn’t want to wear the whole thing, though. It was uncomfortable. Or maybe he’d just get a new shirt that fit better that he could wear with his long coat.

“Ah, here you are,” the bookseller said as he came around a corner. “I did not think you had left. Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Yeah, I did.” Zoro stood and handed him the book. “I’ll take this one.”

Over the next week, Zoro read the book several times from cover to cover, marking the things he’d be willing to try and scribbling out the others. He numbered them from what he’d try first up through the last. When he wasn’t reading it, he kept the book hidden behind his dumbbells.

Zoro had decided to try the compliment thing first. It involved talking, but only briefly. The book said it didn’t have to be anything specific, just something positive. There were a lot of things he actually liked about Sanji and therefore he didn’t have to stretch to find something to say. He needed to say it out loud, though, which sucked. But he was going to do it, his way. So on a random afternoon at sea, he purposefully picked a fight with Sanji.

“Nami’s shirt is ugly.” 

“How dare you say anything disparaging about Nami-san!”

They ran around the main deck of the ship, sparring each other, avoiding the others. Their fighting was a comfortable routine everyone else ignored, as long as they didn’t destroy the ship. Neither Zoro nor Sanji held back, but they also weren’t trying to kill each other. Even if he was fighting angrily or annoyed with Sanji, Zoro always found it exhilarating. 

Sanji executed a flip-spin-split-kick that was impressive, and Zoro used it as a chance to give a compliment. “Nice kick,” he said, as he blocked it with a downward swing of a katana.

Sanji flipped upright and gave him a furrowed look. “Was that a compliment?”

“What else would it be?” Zoro aimed a strike toward Sanji’s side. Sanji contorted his body to avoid the hit in a way that made Zoro envious. It was like Sanji had no bones sometimes.

“Since when do you give compliments?” Sanji dropped low and aimed to sweep Zoro’s legs from under him. Zoro jumped barely in time, his heels scraping along the side of Sanji’s trousers. 

“I can give them if I want to.” Zoro danced backwards a few steps, giving Sanji some distance. Sanji’s legs were longer than Zoro’s reach and he needed to block another kick. He launched a counter-attack, going for that leg.

Sanji used Zoro’s head as a spring and leapt over him. “You’ve never given one to me before.” 

“I’m giving you one now.”

“It’s weird. Stop it.” Sanji kicked him in the ass, which sent him sailing across the main deck. He crashed into the wall between the doors to the men’s quarters.

Zoro shook it off, getting back to his feet. Okay, so the compliment thing hadn’t worked. He had other romantic crap he could try. In the meantime, he was going to win this fight. Zoro adjusted his grip on his katanas and charged.

Number two that Zoro had labeled in his book was touching. Considering Zoro’d been wanting to do this one for a while, he was ready for it. The book had emphasized that this wasn’t sexual, though. It was more of a hey, I’m here and I like you kind of thing. Since Zoro was going through with number four on his list, he may as well admit to Sanji about the liking-him thing, even if he didn’t say it out loud. He still refused to acknowledge any other L-word thoughts.

Zoro decided to try it while he was on dish duty four days later. Sanji would still be in the galley, cleaning up from dinner. There was guaranteed to be no one else around. 

Sanji was boxing leftovers to store in the fridge, to make sandwiches or soup or other things. A cigarette hung from his lips. He moved around Zoro as if Zoro wasn’t in the room. He didn’t bother talking to Zoro, either. Zoro didn’t mind, since he didn’t like talking anyway. It felt comfortable being in the galley without conversation. It was hard to find people who didn’t want to always fill the silence. 

Zoro timed his touching to coincide with Sanji reaching for another empty container. The servingware went into the drawer next to where Sanji stood. Zoro had already dried them and they sat waiting to be put away. He quickly wiped his wet hands on the towel, picked up the servingware, and moved behind Sanji. Without a word, he laid his hand on Sanji’s back.

Sanji froze, arm raised, hand on the containers in the upper cabinet. Zoro could feel the tension in his back. Servingware clutched in his other hand, Zoro hooked the finger over the drawer handle, tugged it open slightly, and depressed the latch to free it. He dropped the servingware inside, closed the drawer, then removed his hand from Sanji’s back. Heart hammering in his ears, he went back across the small kitchen to the sink.

Sanji didn’t move for a long minute, as Zoro studiously scrubbed a pot that was already clean. Then Sanji went back to boxing leftovers as if Zoro hadn’t done anything. Zoro wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. He opted to mark it as a maybe in his mental book. Still, he finished washing the dishes quickly and escaped.

Notes were next. These varied from short compliments to explicit fantasies. Zoro thought about what type of explicit fantasy he’d write to Sanji, made a mess on the clean paper, and had to throw it out. Luckily, he’d stolen a bunch from Robin’s stash in the library. He and Sanji weren’t in a place where Zoro could give him a cum-stained note. They might never be in that place if Zoro couldn’t succeed with number four. 

Zoro couldn’t write a compliment, though. Sanji had told him it was weird. He wasn’t going to confess his feelings or any of that shit in a note. And since horny-notes were off, what did that leave? He knew he wasn’t a brainiac, but there had to be something he could write. 

It took him several days to come up with something. It wasn’t until he went back to the book that the idea came. He could combine the note writing with the clothing thing. It wasn’t a compliment and he was telling Sanji kind of how he felt without actually writing it. 

I got that shirt, he jotted. Then, he folded the note in half, climbed down the rigging, and stuffed it through the slats in Sanji’s locker in the men’s quarters. That done, he prepared to wait.

Waiting took until breakfast the next morning. Zoro had been in the crow’s nest polishing his swords when Sanji had gone to bed. Sanji had gotten up before dawn to start breakfast, and Zoro had still been asleep.

There was no doubt that Sanji had gotten the note, though. Sanji kept casting sidelong glances at Zoro as if Zoro had sprouted antennae or something, throughout the meal. Zoro patted his head to make sure he hadn’t, and he wiped his face with his napkin several times to be certain no food or snot or something clung to it. That meant it had to be about the note. Sanji wouldn’t be paying that much attention to him otherwise.

Again, Zoro didn’t know if Sanji’s looks were a good thing or a bad thing. When breakfast was over, he thought maybe he’d find out but Sanji had kicked him and the other men out of the galley after the meal. Robin had dish duty that day. 

Zoro skulked up the crow’s nest to work out. He wanted to know whether or not the note thing worked. Next on the list was actually putting on the shirt, but he’d wanted to save that until they got to a new island. Doing these romantic things was hard enough without piling them on top of one another. He needed a break in between. 

Sanji never said anything and he acted like he always did toward Zoro. It was as if nothing had happened, like the touching thing. Robin was giving him small smiles, though, which was unnerving. Zoro made it a point to avoid her.

The next island the Sunny came upon was actually a chain of tiny atolls. Each one was dotted with ramshackle houses and knocked-together stalls. The islands were populated by Fish-men and hybrids, and they welcomed Jinbe with delight. They didn’t seem to know, or care, that he was a former Warlord of the Sea. An impromptu party was set up on one of the beaches that afternoon.

The islanders dragged barbecues to the beach, created bonfires, and set up sand games. A small group set off to fish for dinner, dragging Zoro and Franky along. They came back with several giant fish for dinner. The fish were prepared and thrown on the barbeque. People gathered in clumps, sharing drinks and chatting amicably. 

When Zoro went to clean up after fishing, he decided to put on the shirt. Why not? He’d told himself he was going to do it at the next island, this was the next island, and they were having a party. It seemed like a good time to wear it. 

Tape-measure guy had been delighted to see Zoro again back on Domeron. Zoro had told the guy that he was there for a shirt, nothing else. And nothing froofy. Tape-measure guy had had him remove his coat, measured him from the waist up, and then disappeared into the back. Behind-the-counter guy had flirted with Zoro while Zoro waited for his shirt, and normally Zoro would’ve gone for the quick fuck, but this thing he had for Sanji stayed his zipper. 

The shirt, when completed, was simple, dark green, and fitted Zoro perfectly. It didn’t hamper his sword swings or pull at his neck. Though it had been designed to wear under his long coat, Zoro opted to leave the coat behind. His haramaki was hidden beneath the shirt. 

Zoro joined the crew on the beach, accepting a carved tankard of local beer. Sanji stood behind one of the barbecues tending the fish. Zoro made it a point to walk past him and settle himself on one of the logs cut down for seating around the bonfire. He took a drink of the beer - it was good - before glancing over at Sanji.

Sanji was staring at Zoro so intently it made Zoro’s cheeks start to heat. He tried to blame it on the bonfire. He shifted on the log and took another swig of beer. Another glance, and Sanji was still staring. This was what Zoro had wanted, right? Then why did it make him feel so exposed?

Luffy jumped on the other end of the log, sending Zoro flying, distracting him from Sanji. Zoro managed not to spill the beer on his shirt when he landed. “Luffy!” he shouted, set the tankard in the sand, and chased after his laughing captain.

The party lasted well after sunset. Zoro chased Luffy, got into a playful tussle with Chopper, and joined in a kickball game. Slivers of fish were served on palm-leaf plates and eaten with fingers, along with a thick poi and rice. Brook broke out his violin and added music to the festivities. Fish-men, hybrids, and the Straw Hat crew laughed and danced and had a great time.

Zoro stood in front of the dying bonfire, polishing off another beer. Luffy, Chopper, and Usopp were draped over a log, sound asleep. Robin was chatting with Jinbe and a few locals nearby. The others were somewhere on the beach. 

Zoro felt the brush of Sanji’s sleeve against his as Sanji stepped up beside him. Sanji had ditched his tie and the collar of his blue shirt was unbuttoned. He’d shed his suit coat a while ago. The orange of the flames tinted his skin gold. “You look good in the shirt,” he murmured.

Score one for book tip number four! Zoro felt a smile pulling at his lips, even though he didn’t respond. Sanji didn’t say anything else. They stood together in silence, watching the fire for a while.

Zoro left the fifth book thing on the bar in the galley the next morning, before they set sail. He found the wildflowers in a vase as a centerpiece on the dining table at lunch.

Zoro wasn’t sure how to pull off the next number from his book. He thought about playing pack mule to Sanji again at their next stop, seeing what the cook liked, but Sanji had been avoiding him. It was tough to do on a ship, especially since Sanji served the meals, but he managed to always be on the far side of the dining table, not looking at him. They hadn’t been in a fight since before the Fish-men atolls. 

Zoro didn’t know whether to be displeased or happy about it. Was Sanji avoiding him because the romance crap was working or not working? He’d thought it was going well, but now he wasn’t sure. Why did this shit have to be so complicated? 

He decided on going off on his own the next time they made port and see what he could find. Maybe something would stand out to him that screamed cook. It’s not like he didn’t know what Sanji enjoyed: cooking, smoking, and suits. If he stayed with one of those categories, he should be okay. 

The next port wasn’t for another week. They had left Wano to continue on their search for the last Road Poneglyph, but they didn’t know where to find it. Nami had a triple log pose and she decided on which needle to follow. They usually stopped at random islands they spotted along the way. It was how they had gotten thrown into the whole thing with Kaidou, starting at Punk Hazard, which Luffy had spotted from the ship. 

Owl Island was aptly named, as it looked like a great horned owl perched on the ocean’s surface. The bustling town was built around the owl’s base. It had a major port with several places to dock. Wood and stone houses and shops lined the gravel streets. Colorful flowers and greenery decorated the walking areas. The primary business seemed to be gunpowder. The caves within the owl’s body were filled with bats, which gave the locals a steady source of guano. 

Nami gave strict instructions not to blow anything up before giving them money and sending the crew ashore. Robin elected to stay on watch. Zoro immediately took off before someone mentioned going with him, to prevent him from getting lost. 

It didn’t take long for him to get lost. Luckily, he found a kid using a slingshot to knock cans off a fence who agreed to take him back to the shopping district in exchange for Beli. 

Once in the shopping district, Zoro began to scour the shops. Cooking, smoking, suits. He was looking for things of that nature. There was food on offer, but it wasn’t anything interesting. He had no idea what kind of pots, pans, and other cooking gear Sanji already had. The clothing shops had the same stuff they’d found on Domeron, and Sanji had bought shirts there. Zoro was getting annoyed. There had to be something the cook would like on Owl Island.

The smoke shop was located in a squat stone building farthest away from the docks. Zoro supposed it was to stop a fire from igniting the gunpowder, ammunition, and cannonballs in the storehouses closer to the harbor. Inside, boxes of cigarettes, cigars, and other smoking paraphernalia lined rows of shelves. A woman in a top hat showing a lot of cleavage operated the sale counter. She immediately started flirting with Zoro upon his entry. Sanji would’ve melted at her feet. Zoro was merely annoyed.

“No,” Zoro told her shortly, then made his way down a random row. He knew what brand Sanji liked, but Sanji had an entire section of the storeroom dedicated to his cigarettes. Maybe a new lighter? Sanji lost lighters on occasion, usually due to battle. He probably had several stashed in storage, but Zoro had taken a liking to the idea. The book had said to buy something thoughtful that Sanji would like or had been wanting but put off. Zoro hadn’t heard about anything Sanji had been pining for, and so he was going for something Sanji might like. 

Zoro located the row with lighters. Some sat in individual cases. Others were tossed in a box. There were silver ones, gold ones, colorful ones. Some were big, some were little. Some were wide and some were skinny. Several were shaped like owls and a variety of other animals. There were a few ships, small pistols, many with etchings, and a variety of ones shaped like women. There were so many of them, it was making Zoro’s head hurt.

Sanji would probably masturbate to one shaped like a woman, so Zoro ignored those. The weirdly shaped ones wouldn’t do good in a pocket. Maybe a plain one? But Sanji could get those anywhere. 

Zoro was about to give up when he spotted it. It was simple, but different enough. It was silver lighter with no adornments, but it was attached to an interlocking chain with a heavy clip at the end. That meant it could be clipped to a belt loop and not get lost during a fight. Zoro picked it up and tested the chain strength. It would take a decent amount of force to break it. Not unheard of with the battles they fought, but it would last a while otherwise. 

Zoro took it up to the counter to pay for it. Busty McTopHat took his money without flirting. He shoved the lighter in his pocket and left the smoke shop. 

Once he was on the street, Zoro began to feel nervous, which he hated. What was he thinking? He was going to give Sanji a gift. A thoughtful gift. One that meant he was thinking about Sanji. Which he was, constantly, but this crossed from hey, I like you into hey, I really like you. It leaned heavily toward the L-word, even. If he gave this to Sanji, there was no going back. 

Panic drove Zoro to the nearest bar to spend what little was left of his money. He’d made a plan, he was following the plan, and now he was freaking out over having a plan. He didn’t like Sanji that much, did he? The cook was annoying, too emotional, and he acted like a stupid pervert around women. He wore suits all the time, which was ridiculous, even if he looked good in them. He smoked cigarettes like no one else’s air mattered. He liked to talk. 

Zoro guzzled his first drink quickly and got a second round. The bar was the normal type of disreputable place that every pirate-heavy port had. Rickety chairs circled tables made from turned barrels. Wanted posters plastered the walls. Pock marks from bullets and swords scarred every surface. A muscular, mustachioed bartender stood behind a long, weathered bar with worn bar stools in front. Pirates in various shapes and sizes drank, chatted, and argued with one another in the smoky room. 

A rough-looking customer slid onto the stool beside Zoro. Zoro ignored him. He was too busy thinking about how the stupid blond cook was ruining his peaceful life. 

His observation haki alerted him to the danger before the guy next to him pulled a knife. Zoro clamped down on the man’s wrist and squeezed. “Wouldn’t do that, if I were you.”

The guy smiled darkly. “You shouldn’t have done that, either.”

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU BLEW UP THE STOREHOUSE!” Nami’s yell echoed across the ship as the Sunny made a quick escape from Owl Island. “I specifically told you not to blow anything up!” She beat Zoro over the head again with her clima-tact. 

“Ow, woman! It wasn’t my fault!” Zoro brought up his arm to block a third smack. “I got attacked!”

“You should have gotten yourself un-attacked, not caused even more of a mess!” Nami went for his ribs and he oofed on contact. “I was in the middle of a massage!”

Zoro allowed her to give him lumps, as it was the fastest way to get out of her bad graces. “You weren’t there. There were a lot of them!”

“Then you shouldn't have been there, either.” Nami landed a final blow. “Next time, you don’t get to go anywhere without a babysitter.”

Zoro scowled, but said nothing. She stormed off. He was lucky she hadn’t charged him. Maybe she would forget between this port and the next. Zoro rubbed his sore ribs and made his way to the men’s quarters to change. His clothing was sooty and singed. 

The others had given him and Nami a wide berth once they were underway. Zoro found most of them in the men’s quarters, hiding out, playing cards. “Boy, Zoro, was she mad,” Usopp commented. 

Zoro grunted in response. Ash floated to the ground around him as he pulled off his haramaki. He needed to take a shower. He left his dirty coat and haramaki on the floor, kicked off his boots, and made his way across the ship to the bathroom.

The bathroom on the Thousand Sunny was located up an access ladder above the library at the back of the ship. A wall divided the space between the entry and the bath. A water closet was tucked into the corner. The bathroom itself had a shower, large onsen-style tub, a bench for their belongings, and a window that faced the rear of the ship. 

Zoro grabbed a towel from the stack outside of the room and shut the bathroom door behind him. He set his katanas near the door where they wouldn’t get wet, before stripping out of his sooty trousers. As he did, the lighter fell out of his pocket. Zoro glared at it. It was what had caused Zoro to be in that bar to begin with, and now he sported Nami-lumps and possibly a ton of debt. This was what happened when emotions took charge. 

Zoro picked up the lighter and closed it in his fist. Romance could suck it.

Zoro stormed around the Sunny for a few days, being generally irritated by everything. The color of the grass, the way Luffy snored, the view from the crow’s nest while he lifted weights. The romance book had gone flying out the window the first day, landing in the ocean with a splash. His plan was buried in the bottom of his locker. He was over this whole Sanji thing.

Except… he carried the lighter around in his pocket. He couldn’t seem to get rid of it. He wanted to toss it overboard like the book, but every time he had it in his hand he couldn’t. He’d stick it back into his pocket and stomp away from the side of the ship. It was annoying. He hated it.

The fourth day of Zoro’s foul mood, Sanji kicked him from behind. “Enough of this jackass behavior,” Sanji told him. “We’re tired of your shit.”

Zoro hadn’t realized he’d been itching for a fight until it was handed to him on a blond platter. He drew two katanas. “You gonna make me?”

Sanji’s eyes narrowed and the fight was on. 

Solid kicks rang against the steel of Zoro’s blades. Katanas flashed in the sunlight. Clods of grass were flung in the air. The deck tree reverberated upon impact. A piece of Sanji’s suit floated off in the breeze. A bruise formed on Zoro’s bare chest. They flew at each other again and again, striking, blocking, kicking, dodging. The fight took them across the deck, up the stairs, and finally into the galley.

Sanji’s kick sent Zoro crashing through the galley door. Zoro slammed into the opposite wall, found his footing, and charged toward Sanji again. Sanji banged the galley door shut and ran at him. At the last second, he went into a slide that took both Zoro’s feet out from under him. Zoro smashed into the floor face first. He pushed himself up, but a foot in the center of his shoulder blades sent him smacking back down.

Zoro used his strength to flip himself over, knocking Sanji’s leg aside. Sanji caught his balance and kicked Zoro in the chin as Zoro sat up. Zoro used the hilt of his katana to crack Sanji in the ankle. He snarled angrily up at Sanji. Sanji glared at him in return. 

And then Sanji was on him, in his lap, fisting his hand in Zoro’s hair and kissing him ferociously. 

Zoro’s brain went blank for a second, then he dropped his katanas next to him and wrapped his arms around Sanji. He kissed back with equal savageness. Every second of every minute of every day had led to this. He kissed Sanji with every ounce of pent up passion and anger and annoyance and feelings he had for the cook. He wanted to crawl inside Sanji and let him feel the craziness Zoro had been going through since he realized he liked the other man. He wanted to go back in time and kiss Sanji on the first day they’d met. 

Zoro was pawing at Sanji’s shirt now, trying to rip it off. Sanji broke the kiss and buttons went flying when he yanked the shirt over his head. He snagged Zoro’s hair again, their bare chests pressed against one another, as he dove in for another kiss.

Zoro felt warm skin and scar tissue from Drum Island as his palms roved over Sanji’s bared back. Sanji was solid muscle beneath his hands, real strength always hidden by his suits. Zoro couldn’t touch him enough. Sanji’s knees bracketed Zoro’s thighs, keeping him prisoner, as they plundered each other’s mouths. Their breathing was ragged. Zoro’s heart slammed in his chest uncontrollably.  

He didn’t know who moved first, but hands were scrambling at zippers. Erections were freed. Zoro’s palm wrapped around Sanji as Sanji grabbed him and they were jacking each other off. Sanji rested his forehead against Zoro’s, his hot, uneven breaths gusting against Zoro’s wet, kiss-swollen lips. Zoro watched his cock being stroked by Sanji’s pale hand while Zoro’s darker hand fisted Sanji’s length. Sanji’s damp cockhead made Zoro’s mouth salivate. He couldn’t hear anything beyond the rush of blood in his ears. His nerve endings felt like they were on fire.

Zoro came first, with a choked sound torn from his throat. Orgasm roared through him, and he spilled over Sanji’s hand and onto his open trousers. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. Then utter relaxation flooded his veins and he wanted to collapse. But Sanji was still hard in his hand and making desperate sounds, and Zoro wanted to watch Sanji come.

Zoro stroked Sanji with intent, twisting his wrist just enough to rub his calloused palm over Sanji’s swollen cockhead on the upstroke. Sanji clutched at Zoro’s bare shoulder with one hand and he dropped over into orgasm with a spine-wracking shudder. Zoro watched the milky white liquid spurt over his hand. He felt the stirring of arousal, even though he was spent.

Sanji lightly pushed at Zoro’s hand, indicating he was overly sensitive. Zoro brought his cum-spattered hand to his mouth to taste Sanji. Sanji watched him with hooded eyes, his breathing still unsteady. 

Sounds from outside intruded in the quietness of the galley. Awkwardness settled around them. Sanji climbed off Zoro, fixed his trousers, and went into the kitchen area. Zoro tucked himself away, picked up his katanas, and stood. He glanced over the bartop at Sanji, who had his back to Zoro while he lit a cigarette. Zoro slid his katanas into their sheathes. He waited a moment for his brain to tell him what to do next. It wasn’t forthcoming, but his emotions decided to speak up instead.

He reached into his pocket, withdrew the lighter, and set it on the bartop before leaving the galley.

Zoro hid out in the crow’s nest, because that was his space unless someone was on watch. He couldn’t believe he’d actually given the lighter to Sanji. He also couldn’t believe that they’d kissed and jacked each other off. Zoro was torn between elation and mortification. He had no idea what Sanji was going to do. Zoro had no idea what he was going to do.

Zoro could skip lunch, but he probably had to go down for dinner. Unless Sanji was hoping he wouldn’t show up. Maybe he was hoping that Zoro would stay in the crow’s nest until tomorrow, and then they could pretend the thing that happened between them hadn’t happened. Things could go back to normal. Except that Zoro had a feeling that every time he fought with Sanji from now on Zoro would want to kiss him.

Zoro threw himself into training to distract himself from the thoughts running circles in his head. Darkness fell, and nobody yelled up to him that it was time for dinner. He thought he’d escaped. 

The hatch to the crow’s nest opened and, for a panicked moment, Zoro thought it would be Sanji. But it was Robin who climbed into the crow’s nest. “It’s my watch tonight, Zoro-san,” she said. “Sanji-san has left dinner for you in the galley.”

“Okay.” Zoro put away his weights before descending to the main deck. Sanji must’ve gone to bed. That answered the question whether or not they were going to ignore what happened. 

But Zoro was wrong. When he pushed the door open to the galley, he saw Sanji sitting catty-corner to where Zoro usually sat at the dining table, smoking a cigarette. A covered plate of food rested in front of Zoro’s place. A bottle of sake was beside it. “You missed dinner, shit swordsman.”

Zoro hesitated before entering the galley. He let the door swing shut behind him. He crossed the room and took his seat. He noticed that Sanji was fiddling with the lighter in his hand. Zoro didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. He hated talking anyway. He uncovered his food and began to eat.

Sanji stayed quiet for a while, opening and closing the lighter in his hand. The silver caught the light from the sconces. The chain was wrapped lightly around Sanji’s fist. He tapped the ash from the cigarette into the ashtray on the table.

Zoro was trying not to wolf down dinner. The tension in the galley could be cut with a blade. Zoro was doing his best not to think. The meal was delicious, as always, and he washed it down with sake. He was nearly finished when Sanji finally spoke. 

“Are you being serious with me?” Sanji didn’t say it like he was offended or taking it as a joke. He meant the question as it was asked.

Zoro forced the answer past a suddenly dry throat. “Yes.”

Sanji flicked the lighter open. “You sure?”

Zoro nodded and forced out another, “Yes.”

“Okay then.” Sanji flicked the lighter closed. He stood. “I’ll see you in the morning. Wash your dishes when you’re done.” He left the galley.

Zoro stared at the door as it closed behind Sanji. What did that mean? Did that mean things were good between them? That they were together now? That Sanji liked him back? That Sanji didn’t know? That Sanji was trying to think of a way to let Zoro down gently? That Sanji felt as nervous as Zoro was feeling?

Zoro exhaled a heavy breath and slumped in his seat. Emotions were exhausting.

Zoro finished his dinner slowly, did his dishes, and put them away before heading to the men’s quarters. The light was already off and he could hear the snores of his crewmates. Night watch didn’t start until eleven and Zoro had lingered in the galley as long as he could. It was Sanji’s domain, though, and he started to feel uncomfortable staying there. Not with things up in the air like they were.

Finding his locker by familiar feel, Zoro changed into sleep shorts before climbing into his bunk. He pulled Sanji’s blanket up over his shoulders, shoved all thoughts from his mind, and tried to get to sleep. 

Morning came before he knew it. He heard the clatter of his nakama getting up. Sanji would already be in the galley making breakfast. He waited until the others left before getting out of bed. In the bottom of his locker, he found his plan. He smoothed the crumpled and stained paper and read the last line.

Fifth - Consider thinking about the L-word.

Zoro didn’t have to consider it. He already knew that he was in love with Sanji.

Zoro took his time cleaning up before heading to the galley. Breakfast was already underway when he pushed open the door. Stacks of food piled high on serving plates in the center of the large dining table. His nakama sat in their seats, eating, reaching for second helpings. Sanji held a plate of pastries in his hand as he came around the table. He shot Zoro an annoyed look. “You’re late, marimo.”

Zoro grunted in acknowledgment and slinked to his spot. He felt uncomfortable and unsure, two emotions he despised. He took his seat between Luffy and Robin, and reached for servings of bacon and eggs. Conversation and laughter flowed around him, which he ignored. That, in itself, wasn’t unusual. Everyone knew that he wasn’t a scintillating conversationalist.

Sanji wove around the table and between crewmates, providing refills, adding more food, and taking empty serving plates. He wore a yellow shirt, sans coat, tucked into black trousers. A tie was loose around his neck. He leaned in beside Zoro to reach for a dish at the same time filling Robin’s coffee cup from the carafe in his other hand. That was when Zoro saw it. A silver interwoven chain running from Sanji’s pocket to the clip on his belt loop. 

His eye widened and hope sprouted in his chest. Sanji had the lighter in his pocket. The lighter that Zoro had given him. Did that mean…? Zoro’s gaze shot up, chin lifting, to look at Sanji in question. 

Sanji glanced at him briefly, but Zoro couldn’t read anything on his face. Was Zoro wrong? Was he reading into it? He wished he was better at interpreting this crap. He was sure he looked like a hopeful fool staring up at Sanji.

Sanji answered someone else’s question, balanced the empty plate on his coffee arm, and laid his free hand on Zoro’s shoulder. Without saying anything, he told Zoro the answer. Hey, I’m here and I like you, too.

A smile bloomed on Zoro’s face, accompanied by a laugh of jubilation. Eight heads turned in his direction to stare at him in various states of confusion and horror. He didn’t care. He felt like he was going to burst from joy. He wanted to beat his chest, dance around the table, shout at the top of his lungs: Sanji likes me! It was stupid. Ridiculous. Absurd. He still didn’t care.

Sanji moved off to do his job like he hadn’t just upended Zoro’s world in the best way. Some of the crew went back to eating, others continued staring at Zoro like he might do something more terrifying. Luffy smacked him approvingly on the back. Zoro couldn’t stop smiling. Robin gave him a small smile of her own, soft and knowing. He realized Sanji must’ve told her, the day he’d given Sanji the note, back when she was on dish duty. 

Zoro lingered after the others filtered out of the galley when breakfast was done. The idiotic smile never left his face. Sanji still hadn’t addressed him directly, but Zoro didn’t need to hear anything. He knew. When Sanji finally came close enough while clearing the table, Zoro turned his chair around, grabbed Sani’s wrist, and yanked him onto Zoro’s lap.

Sanji squawked, quickly balancing himself by grabbing Zoro’s shoulder. “What are you doing, idiot?” He was seated sideways on Zoro’s lap.

“This,” Zoro said, and kissed him.

Sanji was stiff for a moment, then he melted into the kiss, threading his fingers into Zoro’s hair. Their lips met, parted, and met again. Zoro could feel Sanji’s pulse racing where he held Sanji’s wrist. It matched his own thundering heartbeat. 

Sanji drew back, opening his eyes to study Zoro. Color pinked his cheeks. “How in the world did you learn to romance someone?”

“Made a plan.” Zoro rucked up the back of Sanji’s shirt, pulling it free from his trousers, and slid a hand underneath. “Bought a book.”

“Of course you did.” Sanji’s fingers played with the strands of Zoro’s hair. “You’re still an asshole.”

“Hn.” Zoro leaned in to bite Sanji’s jaw. “You talk too much.”

Sanji must’ve agreed with him, because they were kissing again. Deeply and passionately, saying everything without needing words. Talking was overrated. But Zoro might change his mind about emotions. He was already in love, anyway.

End