Something So Good

Sanji told himself there was no reason to worry – Zoro could take care of himself. It'd been a few months since Elbaph, and although they'd had their share of trouble since then, they'd come through it all right. Sanji had seen Zoro after their last battle on the previous island, and despite the swordsman's usual attempts to hide it, he knew Zoro wasn't at his best. That didn't mean anything. Zoro was strong and stubborn, and he could endure a lot. There wasn't any reason to believe...

No, he was fine.

Except it'd been two days since anyone had seen him.

Sanji started in the most obvious places, the various bars and taverns around town, even a few of the restaurants that served alcohol. The island had plenty of establishments catering to visiting sailors, most of them clustered along the waterfront and the adjoining streets. He checked every one he could find, describing Zoro to bartenders and patrons, enduring a few jokes about drunken swordsmen along the way.

Then Sanji started looking in secondary places, places Zoro would normally frequent – swordsmiths and bookshops. Zoro wasn't a big reader, but he liked to look at magazines, usually ones about swords or weightlifting. Sometimes Zoro had a one-track mind.

When none of those panned out, Sanji started poking his head into various shops, asking if they'd seen a green-haired, one-eyed man carrying three swords wander through. The answer he got was always the same – no.

Sanji spent a good two hours going through town before he turned his attention farther out. The possibility of Zoro wandering off into the interior of the island, away from town, was strong. He kicked up into the sky with Sky Walk and tried to feel Zoro's life force through Observation Haki. Nothing immediately caught his attention, but that didn't mean Zoro wasn't out there. Sanji would have to search the area himself.

Sanji looked at the road winding from the merchant and shopping district toward the residences, then farther beyond toward the interior of the island. The island wasn't very big, so it didn't have a lot of interior to cover. Sanji headed in that direction and searched the woods using a combination of Sky Walk, Observation Haki, and just walking around.

The woods were dense in places, with thick undergrowth and trees that blocked his view from above. He checked the clearings, the narrow trails between the trees, and a few rocky outcroppings that seemed exactly the sort of place Zoro might decide to take a nap. He even called the idiot's name a few times, feeling increasingly foolish when only birds answered.

He didn't sense Zoro or stumble into him.

Now it was getting distressing. If Zoro had just fallen asleep against a tree, Sanji would have found him. Which meant Zoro was either dead, which Sanji refused to think about, or incapacitated in some way and possibly locked up.

There weren't any Marines on this island, and the locals had been friendly, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. There were always outliers. Sanji went back to town, to the sketchiest area he could find, and began to make a different type of inquiry. The entire time up until now, he'd kept telling himself Zoro was fine.

He found a man smoking beside the back entrance of a tavern and described Zoro again. The alley smelled of stale beer and garbage, with empty crates stacked beside the door and a narrow gutter running along the cobblestones. When the man shook his head, Sanji lowered his voice. “What about places that don't advertise? Anything going on around here that visitors aren't supposed to know about?”

The man gave him a long look. “What sort of trouble are you looking for?”

“I'm looking for my friend. He's been missing for two days.”

“Have you checked the house up on the ridge?”

Sanji frowned. “What's that?”

“Big place up on the cliff. A lot of visitors end up there. Seen plenty of people being taken up that road.”

“Taken?” Sanji repeated.

“Yeah. Usually by someone who knows the place. They go in, and you don't see much of them afterward.”

Sanji's stomach tightened. “What goes on up there?”

The man shrugged. “Couldn't tell you. Never been inside.”

“Then how do you know about it?”

“People talk. Mostly about how nobody talks about what happens inside.” He took another drag on his cigarette. “Wouldn't go sticking my nose in there if I were you.”

That didn't bode well.

Sanji nodded to the man and left. Out on the street, he looked up at the ridge. A large house perched on the edge of the dark, craggy cliff. Sanji blew out a ring of smoke, frowning. They go in, and you don't see much of them afterward.

Sanji told himself that Zoro was fine. He could handle himself. But a small part of him started suggesting ominous things. Drugging. Devil Fruit users. Seastone. Blood and injury and unconsciousness. Sanji started up the street, heading for that house on the ridge. His steps grew quicker as he went.

Zoro and Sanji were the ones who always protected the crew, but it was also unspoken that they protected each other. They had each other's backs. No matter what happened, they'd be there if the other needed them. They'd never sat down and discussed it, and Sanji doubted either of them would willingly admit to such a thing, but they'd been doing it almost since they’d met.

The idea that Zoro might have needed help for the past two days started to gnaw at Sanji's gut. He should have known somehow. He should have known Zoro needed help – needed him – even if it was just something simple, such as the idiot getting himself caught in something. He'd heard that Zoro got himself stuck in a chimney way back in Water Seven. It could be something as dumb as that.

Or it could be worse. He could be caught in some cage or bleeding out. It could be more akin to what happened in Wano, when Law dropped Zoro off on top of him, broken to the point where he couldn't even move.

Sanji's steps went even quicker along the street. He followed the winding road up to the house perched on the edge. He'd passed the turnoff earlier, heading inland to search the woods instead. At the time, he'd had no reason to suspect the house.

He didn't Sky Walk up there, wanting to get a bit of the layout as he walked, counting the number of windows, the number of doors he could see, checking whether he saw any people around, possibly guards. The road narrowed as it climbed, with stone retaining walls on one side and patches of scrubby grass on the other. Farther up, the trees thinned, giving him a clearer view of the building.

The house was old and imposing, three stories of dark stone with tall, narrow windows and a steep slate roof. Iron fencing bordered the grounds, and heavy curtains covered most of the windows. A pair of carved doors occupied the main entrance. He couldn't see anyone in the grounds, much less anyone standing guard.

It was surprisingly quiet. Sanji stopped when he was close enough and activated his Observation Haki. All he saw were heaps of bodies, some in pairs, some with more, lying motionless. A few were up, walking around, but the majority of the people in this house weren't moving.

Sanji sought out Zoro's familiar life force and found it, buried beneath several other bodies, unmoving. 

For a moment, Sanji could barely think. Zoro was there, which was a relief, but the fact that he wasn't moving was another matter entirely. The presence of so many other people around him made it worse. Sanji couldn't tell what was happening to him, and the idea that someone might have him restrained, or that he was injured or unconscious, made his pulse hammer. 

Sanji moved fast now, around the perimeter, looking for a way in that didn't have people standing near it. He found a side entrance that appeared to be a servants' door, with no one in the room beyond. A quick kick had it open, and he was inside.

The smell hit him first, thick and heavy, coating his tongue. Sex, and the distinct scent of unwashed male. Sanji was unfortunately very familiar with that second smell, having to share sleeping quarters with six other men and a skeleton.

He stopped just inside the doorway, his nose wrinkling. The air was warm and stale, and somewhere deeper in the house he could hear the low murmur of voices. A door closed upstairs, followed by footsteps and a brief laugh.

Sanji's mind went to a very dark place before he was moving again, cutting through the empty laundry room to the door. He opened it slowly and followed the hall beyond to another door. He cracked it open and slipped through, and he was in a main corridor that branched off to several rooms. Through each open doorway, Sanji could see bodies.

Naked, male bodies.

Sleeping.

Snuggling.

A few kissing lazily as morning sunlight drifted through the windows.

One man was sprawled across a couch, his head resting in another man's lap. Farther along, two men shared a large armchair, apparently having fallen asleep halfway through an embrace. Clothing lay discarded on the floors and furniture, and empty glasses stood on side tables beside trays of half-eaten food.

Sanji stared blankly for a long moment as his brain caught up. He hadn't found anything nefarious or dangerous. He'd found a gay sex party.

Sanji closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. He'd spent the better part of the morning searching the entire damn island, imagining kidnapping and torture and worse, and the idiot had apparently been here all along. He could almost hear Zoro sniggering at him.

Sanji looked up the main stairs that led to the second floor, where he'd sensed Zoro's familiar life force. His mouth thinned. He took the stairs two at a time, marched down the hallway past open bedrooms until he reached the right one and stopped in the doorway.

In the room, on a very big bed, was a pile of men draped over a snoring, scarred asshole.

Zoro lay on his back, his green hair thoroughly mussed, a redhead tucked under one arm and his swords under the other. Another man had an arm across his stomach, and several more were tangled together around his legs. Zoro looked entirely comfortable, his face relaxed and his breathing deep.

Sanji's eye twitched. Here he'd been worried. He'd expected a damn marimo in distress and found dick-filled debauchery instead.

He wanted to kick something. Preferably Zoro.

The stupid thing was, it hurt. Not that Zoro had sex with other people. It was that Sanji wasn't needed in any capacity, and he assuredly wasn't wanted here, either. He was seeing something that, group sex notwithstanding, was private. Zoro had never talked to Sanji about his interest in men, or in anyone. All those times Sanji had made fun of him, teased him about women, about his lack of skill and attractiveness or something similar, and Zoro had never said anything.

Sanji had always assumed Zoro either didn't care about sex much or was simply a virgin. Seeing him now, surrounded by men, made Sanji realize how little he knew about that part of his crewmate's life.

And it wasn't his business. He knew that. Zoro was entitled to his privacy, and Sanji had no right to expect otherwise. Sanji had never said anything to Zoro about sometimes liking men, either, but he was still in somewhat panicked denial about that.

But that was different. Or he wanted it to be different. He hadn't entirely sorted out how he felt about the occasional man catching his attention, much less what he'd ever do about it. Admitting it to someone else would make it real in a way he wasn't prepared for.

He stared at Zoro for several long seconds. The sight left an uncomfortable ache in Sanji's chest. He'd spent hours worrying about the idiot, imagining all the terrible things that might've happened to him, and now he felt foolish for it. Worse, he still felt hurt.

Zoro shifted slightly, pulling the redhead closer without waking. The man made a sleepy noise and settled against him.

Sanji looked away.

He'd wanted to find Zoro safe, and he'd gotten exactly that. He should have been relieved. He was relieved, somewhere beneath the irritation and embarrassment, but it didn't make the rest of his feelings any easier to understand.

Sanji silently turned on his heel and left. He wasn't going to wake Zoro up and expose him in this situation.

He headed back down the ridge and across town to the ship. The streets were busy now, with vendors calling to passing shoppers and sailors moving between taverns and supply shops. Sanji barely paid attention to any of it. He'd found the idiot. The search was over. He ought to be satisfied with that.

Instead, he kept remembering how content Zoro had looked.

Nami frowned when he returned alone, and Sanji just shook his head. “He's fine. He'll be back when it's time to go.”

“You'd better be right,” she said.

He just smiled faintly at her and retreated to the galley. He had things to do before they set sail.

Zoro did come back under his own power before they set sail, loose-limbed and wearing a bit of a smile at the corners of his mouth, for anyone who knew him well. Sanji knew him well. He also knew what had put that smile there, and he shouldn't.

He watched Zoro cross the deck, exchange a few words with Luffy, and head for the men's quarters. There was nothing different about him otherwise. Same swords, same clothes, same casual disregard for everything that didn't interest him. Sanji doubted anyone else even noticed the smile.

He had the strong urge to kick Zoro's ass. For putting him in this position of knowing something he shouldn't. For the situation existing to begin with. For feeling hurt still over it. He needed to get over it, too. Tuck it away with all the other things he didn't want to touch, and ignore it.

He managed well enough through dinner. Zoro ate his food, traded insults with him, and behaved entirely normally. Sanji did the same, although a few of his insults were delivered with considerably more enthusiasm than usual. Zoro didn't seem to notice anything wrong, which only irritated Sanji further.

By the time the dishes were cleared and the others had gone off to their evening activities, Sanji had convinced himself to leave it alone.

His resolve only lasted until Zoro came into the galley later that night, shirtless and sweaty after working out, to get his usual drink. Sanji was prepping bread for the next morning, kneading at the counter. The galley was still warm from the ovens, and the overhead lights illuminated the flour scattered across his work surface. Beyond the portholes, the sea was dark, with the occasional white crest visible as the Sunny moved through the water. 

“What do you want, marimo?” Sanji said. 

“Drink.” Zoro went to the cabinet behind Sanji and took out a cup, then went over to the sink beside the prep area. Sanji happened to glance over at Zoro and the wide swath of exposed skin, and stopped mid-knead when he saw the scratch marks and obvious love bites marring his back.

The back that Zoro protected above everything, where wounds were a swordsman's shame. Sanji had always considered it his responsibility to protect it, too. These weren't injuries caused by Zoro falling or crashing into things during a fight, or mishaps aboard the Sunny. These were purposeful marks. Several scratches ran diagonally across his shoulder blades, and there were dark bruises near the base of his neck. Zoro seemed entirely unconcerned about them, filling his glass and taking a drink as though nothing were unusual.

Sanji couldn't understand how he could be so casual about it. Zoro had spent years proclaiming any scars on his back would be a personal failure, something he'd never willingly allow another opponent to give him. Sanji had taken that seriously, too. He knew what it meant to Zoro, knew how important that part of his pride was.

And now there were marks all over it, left by strangers.

Sanji's teeth clenched, even as his stomach dropped. The words were out of his mouth before he could call them back. “How could you let anyone mar you like that?”

Zoro glanced over at him with a frown. “What are you talking about?”

Sanji jerked his chin at Zoro. “Your back.”

Zoro tried to glance over his shoulder at himself, which was, of course, impossible. “What about it?”

“Scratches. Bite marks. Aren't you ashamed, swordsman?”

Zoro looked at him for a long moment, expression flat. “It's not your business.”

Sanji snorted in derision. “Not my business? When you're walking around shirtless?” He punched the dough. “When that's my back?”

Zoro's eyebrow climbed. “Your back?”

Sanji punched harder. “You know what I mean.”

“I don't.”

Sanji ground his teeth. “I'm the one who protects it.”

Zoro's eye narrowed. “I can protect my own back.”

“No. That's not how it goes.” Punch. “I protect you, you protect me, and we protect the others together.” Punch. “How can I keep you safe if you allow random strangers to do that to you?”

It came out louder than Sanji intended. He stopped kneading, breathing hard through his nose, his hands buried in the dough. He knew he was being unreasonable, knew those marks had nothing to do with fighting and that Zoro had presumably enjoyed getting them. But he'd spent a chunk of the morning believing Zoro might be hurt somewhere, unable to defend himself, and now the evidence of what he'd actually been doing was right in front of Sanji.

But instead of snapping back like normal, Zoro got quiet. “You want to keep me safe?”

The question caught Sanji off guard. He looked up, ready with another insult, but Zoro's expression had changed. The irritation was gone, replaced by something Sanji couldn't immediately identify.

“Of course I want to keep you safe,” Sanji muttered. He flipped the dough and aggressively kneaded the other side. “Stupid marimo.” 

“No one's ever wanted that for me.”

The words were spoken as a fact, but still quietly. Sanji glanced over. Zoro was looking at his hand, turning it over, examining the scars on his knuckles. “People have always taken one look at me and assumed...”

He trailed off, rubbing his thumb across an old scar. Sanji understood what he'd been about to say. People saw Zoro's size, his swords, his reputation, and assumed he could handle anything. Most of the time, he could. Sanji had made that assumption himself more than once. But being capable of protecting himself didn't mean Zoro should always have to.

“Well, people are deeply stupid,” Sanji said, his anger easing. He put the dough in a bowl and covered it with a damp cloth to rise. He'd abused it enough.

Zoro was still looking down. Still quiet. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I went to a party. I don't usually...” He cut himself off, then continued. “I like guys, and it's not often that I find anyone interested. So when we landed here and there was a party, I let things get wilder than I normally would.”

Sanji stood with his hands resting on the counter. He hadn't expected Zoro to explain himself, much less share something so personal. A lot of their interactions were surface-level or irritating, but this was different. 

Sanji could have made a joke, and Zoro probably would've answered with an insult of his own. But Zoro had been serious, and Sanji knew something about keeping secrets, particularly this one. 

Sanji wiped his palms on a dish towel, drew a cigarette, and lit it. He ignored the small tremor in his hands. “I like guys, too. A little. Certain ones. Sometimes. Rarely.”

He took a drag before he could say anything else. His pulse had quickened, and he could feel tension gathering across his shoulders. From behind the smoke, Sanji saw Zoro's eye widen, then his whole face open up in a way Sanji had never seen before. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Sanji felt a surprising sense of relief. He'd expected admitting it to be difficult, and it had been, but Zoro's reaction made him glad he'd taken the chance. “I haven't... you know. But that hasn't stopped me from thinking about it. Sometimes. Occasionally. Not that often.”

He was babbling, and he knew it. Apparently, the ability to speak coherently had abandoned him the moment he'd decided to be honest about anything. But Zoro wasn't laughing at him. He was listening, his attention fixed entirely on Sanji, and there was something encouraging about that.

A smile spread across Zoro's lips. Not the usual smirk or bloodthirsty grin. An honest-to-goodness smile that Sanji hadn't seen in so long. Not since before Kuma. “Do you have a type?”

“No.” Sanji couldn't believe they were talking about this. He waited for the panic attack, but all he felt was relief. “Just little things. Not being a jerk. Not being too skinny, or looking like I can break 'em.”

“Yeah. I can see that.”

Sanji took another drag, considering how absurdly easy Zoro was making this. He'd spent years avoiding the subject, worrying about what admitting it might mean, and here was the idiot swordsman asking about his preferences as casually as he might ask what Sanji was making for dinner.

“What about you?” Sanji asked.

“Don't really have a type.” Zoro looked down at the glass in his hand. “Just someone actually interested in me.”

Sanji thought about finding Zoro in bed with six others, and then remembered what he'd said: It's not often that I find anyone interested.

He looked at Zoro – really looked – at the muscle, the scars, the swords, the general air of don't mess with me. The confidence that could read as intimidation. Nothing soft or inviting about him. Seemingly unapproachable. 

Yet here he was, being open and vulnerable, and Sanji knew he had a good heart. There was a lot about Zoro that people missed if they didn't spend time getting to know him. Sanji had seen him patiently helping Chopper, listening to Usopp’s meandering tall tales, and always taking a double-night watch so the rest of the crew could sleep. Perhaps that party had been a rare opportunity for Zoro to enjoy something he didn't often get. It seemed unfair that people would judge him solely by his appearance. Zoro deserved better than that.

“People are dumb,” Sanji said. “You should have to beat them off.”

A grin pulled at Zoro's lips. “Guys usually prefer my mouth over beating them off.”

Sanji sputtered around his cigarette. “That's not what I meant!”

Zoro laughed, a rusty but bright sound that filled the galley. Sanji's cheeks went warm, but hearing that laugh made his unintended innuendo worth it. It'd been way too long since Zoro had laughed this way. It made Sanji's chest do funny things. He found himself smiling, too, despite the embarrassment.

Zoro looked back at him, dimples showing, crinkles in the corner of his eye. “If you ever want to know anything about guy things, let me know. It'd be nice to have someone to share this stuff with.”

Sanji had never thought about that – Zoro being on the ship all this time, maybe even before they'd met, having no one to talk to who was also into guys. Sanji wasn't new to his desires, but he'd only recently stopped denying them to himself. He was still getting used to that, and talking about them with someone else was entirely new. Zoro wasn't a big sharer in general, but still. It must have been lonely.

Sanji knew how uncomfortable the subject could be, but he'd at least had Iva and the people of Kamabakka Kingdom preaching self-love and acceptance at him for two years. He'd spent most of that time refusing to listen, and several more months avoiding the memories altogether. Only recently had he begun to understand what they'd been trying to teach him. Zoro might never have had anyone offer him that kind of acceptance. And here Sanji had been giving him grief about women almost since they'd met.

Sanji nodded. “I will.”

Zoro's smile remained. “Can't believe you're really into guys.”

Sanji took a good drag on his cigarette. “Didn't want it to be true, but here we are. Iva was big on self-acceptance. And stilettos. I don't recommend the stilettos.”

Zoro dropped his gaze to Sanji's feet. “Bet you could do real damage, though.”

Sanji snorted. “As if I can't kick someone's head off their shoulders now.”

“True.” The smile turned to the more familiar bloodthirsty grin. “Bet it's a sight with Conqueror's Haki.”

Sanji smirked. “Like you wouldn't believe.”

Zoro finished his water, washed the glass, and set it upside down in the sink. “I should get cleaned up before somebody complains that I'm stinking up the galley.”

“You are rather ripe.” Sanji stubbed the remains of his cigarette out in an ashtray on the counter.

Zoro started for the door, then paused and looked back at Sanji. “Thanks for telling me.”

Sanji hadn't expected that, either. He'd taken a chance telling Zoro something he'd spent years avoiding, and instead of feeling exposed or embarrassed, he was glad he'd done it. Zoro had shared something important with him, too, and Sanji appreciated the trust that had taken. 

“Same,” he said.

Zoro gave him another smile before leaving.

Sanji stood in his galley for a moment, listening to Zoro's footsteps fade down the steps. He felt looser, a little more at ease with himself. He was still figuring things out, but for the first time, he had someone he could talk to about it without worrying about being judged. And that someone happened to be the idiot swordsman.

Sanji smiled to himself, then took a few cuts of beef from the refrigerator and began preparing a red wine marinade for tomorrow's dinner.

A few weeks later, Sanji was surprised when Zoro took the seat next to him at an outdoor food stall.

The Sunny had docked at Dellmare Island earlier that morning, and Sanji had gone off to do his restocking. Dellmare was a prosperous little island, with a sizable port town occupying most of the southern coast and farms stretching across the hills farther inland. The streets around the harbor were crowded with merchants, visiting sailors, and residents going about their business. Beyond the docks, the buildings were packed close together, their upper floors extending over narrow lanes filled with shops and restaurants. The town had several markets, specialty stores, and enough taverns to keep its visitors entertained.

Once the supplies were stored away aboard the Sunny, Sanji had come back out to enjoy the town. He'd wandered through the shopping district, checking out a few clothing stores and a tobacconist, before following the smell of cooking food into a narrow alley between two larger streets.

The food stall occupied a sheltered space beneath the overhang of an old building. A short wooden counter faced the alley, with six stools arranged along its length and a faded cloth awning extending overhead. Steam rose from several pots behind the counter, and strips of meat and vegetables sizzled on a small iron grill. Shelves held stacks of bowls, cups, and bottles of sake. A handwritten menu listed the day's offerings on a board.

Sanji had taken a seat to try the seafood rice bowl, which arrived generously topped with grilled fish, shrimp, vegetables, and a savory sauce. He was halfway through it when Zoro appeared.

The rest of the crew had scattered to explore what the island had to offer. Zoro had been on first watch, and he'd still been on the ship when Sanji left. Finding him here, of all places, was unexpected, especially since Zoro had somehow managed to navigate the town without getting hopelessly turned around.

“Aren't you supposed to be on watch?” Sanji said.

“Franky came back and took over. He had some repairs he wanted to do anyway. I offered to help, but he said for me to get lost.” Zoro shot Sanji a crooked grin. “Didn't know if that was just a saying or if he was insulting me.”

Sanji snorted. “It's not an insult if it's true.”

“I don't always get lost, and it's not my fault the streets move around.”

“Streets don't move around. You just have the internal compass of a drunk.” Sanji tipped his head. “Maybe if you could actually get drunk, it would correct itself.”

Zoro barked a short laugh. “Yeah, possibly.”

Sanji smiled, pleased with himself for making Zoro laugh. “Speaking of, why aren't you at a tavern drinking away what little money you have?” 

“Saw you. Thought you might want to hang out,” Zoro said, squinting at the menu on the counter. He ordered a bowl of pork and vegetable noodles and sake.

It was a simple, honest answer without contention. It still surprised Sanji. They got along more than they fought – the Sunny would be unbearable for everyone otherwise – but they didn't go out of their way to spend free time together.

Then the conversation they'd had a few weeks back came to Sanji, and with it the idea that Zoro might be lonely. Sanji glanced at Zoro, who was sitting there sipping the sake the vendor had poured for him and watching the man prepare his meal. He seemed perfectly comfortable with the arrangement, content to sit beside Sanji. Sanji felt himself relax. Maybe this wasn't as out there as it seemed.

Sanji turned back to his meal. “I was planning on browsing through the clothing shops after I eat, then taking a walk up to the lighthouse to check it out.”

“Sounds good,” Zoro said.

“Does this mean I can force you to buy something to wear other than your rotation of two coats and two shirts?”

“Nah,” Zoro said. “I'm good with what I've got, though I could probably use some more underwear.”

“You don't wear underwear half the time.”

“That's because I don't have enough.”

Sanji shook his head in disbelief. “Then it's a good thing we're going shopping.”

The vendor set Zoro's meal in front of him, a deep bowl of noodles in a fragrant broth, topped with slices of pork, greens, and mushrooms. Zoro thanked him and dug in immediately. Sanji watched him slurp up a mouthful of noodles.

They ate together, Zoro asking some questions about the island and Sanji answering what he knew. The vendor filled in more, telling them about the older residential district beyond the central market, the farms that supplied much of the town's produce, and the lighthouse on the northern point. He recommended a few shops, including a swordsmith with a good reputation, which caught Zoro's interest.

When Sanji complimented the rice bowl, the vendor proudly explained that the fish had come in with the morning boats and the sauce was his grandmother's recipe. Sanji asked about a particular seasoning, and they spent several minutes discussing the ingredients while Zoro continued eating.

After they finished and paid, they wandered out of the alley and back toward the shopping streets. The afternoon was warm, and the breeze coming in from the harbor carried the smell of saltwater over the stronger scents of food and people. Vendors had set up displays outside their storefronts, and colorful awnings shaded much of the pavement. Sanji stopped occasionally to inspect something in a window, while Zoro followed along, seemingly content to let him decide where they went.

Zoro was surprisingly easy to go clothing shopping with. He just followed Sanji around as Sanji looked at shirts and trousers and ties. He offered opinions when asked, usually blunt ones, but otherwise seemed happy enough to browse. Sanji had expected complaints or demands to hurry up, but Zoro spent as much time studying the displays as he did.

They were in a menswear shop with racks of summer shirts near the entrance when Sanji picked up a colorful printed shirt. Zoro pulled a face. “Should've realized you had the gay gene before you said anything.”

“What's that mean?” Sanji said, shooting a glare at Zoro.

“You always like these hideous bright shirts that scream, 'Look at me, I'm gay.'”

“They do not do that! This is good fashion.”

“Good fashion if you're a flaming queer.”

Sanji bristled. “I don't know whether to be insulted on behalf of fashion designers or queer people.”

“Be insulted that your taste is hideous,” Zoro said.

“Coming from you, who thinks an open coat counts as clothes, that's rich.”

“I'm very gay, and you don't see me wearing crap like that.”

“Instead, you wear no shirt and use every opportunity you can to take your coat off and flex, like a half-naked peacock.”

Zoro started to laugh. “I don't do that.”

“You do!” Sanji said. “All the time. You have a perfectly serviceable tank top, and yet you wander around like that.” He gestured toward the open placket of Zoro's coat. “You're just showing off, practically yelling, 'Look at me, I've got big muscles. Come fondle them.'”

Zoro's laugh grew louder. “As if you don't wear those suits knowing perfectly well how they make your legs look infinitely long. And then you're the one who struts about like you're a gift.”

Sanji heard the compliment under the insult, and it sent a little thrill through him. Zoro had apparently noticed his legs, which shouldn't have been particularly surprising. They fought together often enough that Zoro knew exactly what Sanji could do with them. Still, hearing him mention how they looked was another matter. “Some of us take pride in our appearance, something you'll never understand.”

“Don't have the best to work with,” Zoro said with a self-deprecating wave at his face.

Sanji studied his face, the scar bisecting it. The remark bothered him more than he'd expected. Zoro had never been particularly vain, but Sanji hadn't realized he thought so little of his own looks. “Does it bother you?”

Zoro shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“Not really an answer.”

“What else is there to say? Not like I can change anything.”

“True.” Sanji hesitated. “I never asked, but how does it affect your vision? I know it doesn't affect your fighting.”

Zoro rubbed a thumb along his jaw with another half-shrug. “Can't see someone coming up on my left. And my depth perception's sometimes off. Made it harder to read, too. My left eye was stronger.”

Sanji remembered Zoro squinting at the menu at the counter. He'd done it several times, leaning closer to read the smaller lettering. Sanji had assumed the idiot was simply taking his time deciding what to order. “You can't see far or near?”

“Both. Near is especially bad, but it doesn't affect the important things.”

“Have you told Chopper?”

“No. What good would that do?”

“It'd get you glasses.”

Zoro gave him a flat look. “Can you really see me in glasses?”

Sanji's lips curled rottenly. “Oh, I don't know. Might make you all soft and nerdy.”

Zoro's face flattened even more. Sanji chuckled. “You wore those goggles on Elbaph. They looked ridiculous, but not that ridiculous.”

“Ringing endorsement.”

Sanji picked up the shirt Zoro had been grumbling at. “Could always find one of these in your size instead.”

Zoro huffed. “Not a chance.”

“But you're the one who said you were very gay. Don't you want your flame to fly high?”

“I'll stick with what I've got.”

Sanji grinned. “Maybe we'll find you some floral underwear instead.”

Zoro's lips twitched. “Maybe.”

It made Sanji laugh.

They ended up at a men's specialty store a few streets over. The shop carried everything from practical underclothes to expensive imported pieces, with shelves of folded briefs and boxers arranged along one wall and more unusual garments hanging from displays farther inside. A clerk greeted them when they entered, then left them to browse.

Zoro's taste in underwear ran toward whatever was cheapest and fit, but they had a lot of fun with the more colorful and differently cut varieties the shop carried. There were bright prints, unusual fabrics, and several styles Sanji couldn't imagine anyone wearing comfortably. 

Zoro held up a pair with an absurdly narrow front and raised his eyebrow. “Think these would fit?”

“Your ego? Doubt it.”

Zoro grinned and put them back. A few minutes later, he found a pair covered in enormous pink flowers and held them against his hips, batting his one eye at Sanji.

Sanji nearly doubled over laughing.

Zoro's own laugh bounced around the shop every time they found something more outrageous, and soon Sanji was holding up his own ridiculous choices for Zoro's inspection. The clerk gave them several amused looks from behind the counter, but neither paid much attention.

Sanji hadn't known Zoro had this silly, playful side to him. He should have, because Zoro used to get involved in Luffy's shenanigans on the Sunny. Since they'd reunited after two years apart, Zoro had become much more serious and much more focused on his training and pushing them through the New World. It was as if he'd put aside part of himself, thinking it was for the good of the crew.

It made Sanji feel really good about what was happening now.

They didn't get Zoro any floral prints, but he did walk away with brightly colored briefs and one pair with strategically placed jellyfish that made Sanji laugh hard. Sanji got a few new pairs of boxers for himself, plain ones and ones with sunbathing frogs.

“Those are worse than the jellyfish,” Zoro informed him as they left.

“You have no appreciation for whimsy.”

“I just know ugly frogs when I see them.”

“They're adorable.”

“They're wearing sunglasses.”

“That’s part of their charm.”

Zoro shook his head, smiling, and Sanji found himself smiling back.

They stopped at the swordsmith's afterward, for Zoro to pick up supplies for his kit. The shop was farther along the main street, marked by a wooden sign painted with crossed blades. Inside, the walls displayed swords of various lengths, along with sharpening stones, polishing cloths, and maintenance tools. The air smelled faintly of oil and worked metal.

Zoro was immediately interested. He spent a little time looking at the blades on display, commenting on the temper of the steel and the balance of the blades. The smith, an older man with thick forearms and a leather apron, joined him, and the two began discussing the merits of different forging techniques.

Sanji understood enough about swords to follow some of the conversation, but much of it went beyond him. He occupied himself inspecting a display of decorative knives until Zoro called him over to look at a blade with an unusual pattern in the steel.

“See that?” Zoro asked, pointing out the faint lines running along its length. “That's from how the metal was folded.”

Sanji leaned closer. “Pretty.”

“It's good work,” Zoro agreed. “Wouldn't mind trying it out.”

“You already have three swords.”

“Doesn't mean I can't appreciate another one.”

Sanji rolled his eyes, but stayed while Zoro finished talking with the smith and bought what he needed. 

When they emerged from the shop, the afternoon had begun to cool. They wandered toward the lighthouse next, following the main road north until it gradually gave way to smaller streets lined with houses and gardens. The buildings became more widely spaced as they left the commercial district behind, with stone walls separating private yards from the road.

They passed a small square where children were playing around a fountain, and Sanji stopped to buy a couple of chilled fruit drinks from a cart. Zoro took his with a brief thanks, then made a face after the first sip. “Too sweet.”

“It's fruit juice.”

“Still too sweet.”

“Give it here, then.”

Zoro pulled it out of reach and drank some more.

Sanji snorted and continued walking.

Farther along, the road passed between low stone walls bordering vegetable plots and small orchards. A few farmers were still working in the fields, and carts occasionally passed them heading back toward town. Sanji noticed the crops growing alongside the road, identifying several varieties he'd bought at the market that morning.

Zoro listened to him explain which vegetables were in season, then pointed toward a stand of trees beyond one of the walls. “What're those?”

“Plums, I think.”

“Huh. Thought they were apples.”

“Do you know anything about fruit?”

“I know how to eat it.”

“An impressive accomplishment.”

Zoro elbowed him lightly, and Sanji returned the gesture.

The road curved around a hillside, and Zoro started heading down a side path without hesitation. Sanji caught his arm and redirected him toward the main road. “Wrong way.”

“I knew that.”

“Sure you did.”

It happened twice more before they reached the northern point. Sanji began correcting him with a touch to his arm whenever he started to veer, sometimes before Zoro had even committed to the wrong direction. Zoro never complained, merely adjusted course and kept walking.

They didn't talk much for the last stretch, just enjoyed the walk. Sanji found the lack of conversation comfortable. Usually he felt compelled to keep people entertained, particularly women, but Zoro seemed perfectly happy to walk beside him without expecting anything.

It occurred to Sanji that they'd spent most of the afternoon together and hadn't had a serious argument once. They'd insulted each other plenty, but the exchanges had been affectionate in their own peculiar way, with both of them enjoying the jokes rather than trying to win. 

He wondered whether the others would even recognize them behaving this way. Nami would be suspicious, and Usopp would have questions. Luffy would merely be happy they were having fun. The thought amused him.

It took roughly an hour to get to the lighthouse at their lazy pace. The lighthouse stood on a rocky point overlooking the northern coast, surrounded by a low wall and a few weather-beaten storage sheds. A narrow path connected it to the road, with patches of coarse grass growing between the stones.

The lighthouse looked nothing like Crocus's. This one was a narrow brick spire with an outer staircase winding up the side, the rotating light housed at the center behind weathered glass. Its brickwork had faded over the years, and dark streaks marked the places where rainwater had run down the walls.

They took the stairs, their feet echoing on the metal. The steps groaned ominously in places where salt and rust ate at the steel, but they made it to the top. Sanji paused near the upper landing to examine one particularly corroded section, wondering whether anyone bothered maintaining the structure properly. Zoro continued past him without concern.

“Try not to fall through,” Sanji called.

“Worry about yourself, cook.”

“I'm not the one who weighs a ton.”

“That's muscle.”

Sanji snorted. “Whatever you say.”

The view was beautiful. The sea stretched across one side as far as the horizon, with several merchant vessels moving along the shipping lanes and smaller fishing boats closer to shore. On the other side, the town lay below them, a colorful patchwork of farms, buildings, and houses. From here Sanji could make out the harbor, the densely packed shopping district, and the winding roads they'd followed to reach the lighthouse.

Zoro leaned his forearms on the rail, green hair blowing lightly in the wind, his jaw soft, face relaxed. His bags hung from one arm. Sanji lit a cigarette, making sure to stay downwind, and stood next to him.

They stayed that way for a while, looking out over the island. Sanji glanced at Zoro. He looked good, Sanji had to admit. The way the sun caught in his hair. The small curve of his lips. The way his guard was down, shoulders at ease. While he had no problem with how Zoro normally was, he wouldn't mind seeing more of this version.

He thought about the first time he'd seen Zoro after finding him at that house on the ridge. Zoro had looked content then, too, although Sanji's feelings about it had been considerably more complicated. He understood a little better now why Zoro had taken advantage of that party. There weren't many opportunities for him to be around men who shared his interests, much less men who might find him attractive.

And now Zoro had someone aboard the Sunny who understood at least part of that experience. Sanji liked to think Zoro appreciated having someone to talk to about it. Judging by how readily Zoro had sought him out today, perhaps he did. 

“Hey, you want to check out what nightlife this town has later?” Zoro asked, still looking out over the view.

Sanji was surprised by the question, but he didn't have a reason not to agree. They'd enjoyed the afternoon together, and he was in no particular hurry to end it. Besides, going out with Zoro wasn't nearly as strange an idea as it would've been a few weeks ago. “Sure. But you're buying.”

Zoro shot him a crooked grin. “You're on.”

After about half an hour longer, they headed back to the ship to secure their packages. Sanji went to clean up and make something light for Robin, who was on watch for the evening, and Franky, who was sticking around. Zoro napped on the deck, stretched out in a patch of fading sunlight with his swords beside him.

Sanji nudged him with a toe after the sun set and he was ready to depart. “Come on, marimo. You invited me out.”

Zoro opened his eye and grunted. “I'm up.”

He took his time getting to his feet, stretching his arms overhead before collecting his swords. Sanji watched him for a moment, then went ahead toward the gangplank.

They headed back into town. Sanji had changed into a fitted black vest with a blue shirt beneath and black trousers. If he was going to go out, he was going to do it right. Zoro hadn't done anything, and his hair was still a tousled mess from the wind up at the lighthouse. Sanji didn't even bother to comment because Zoro rarely cared.

The shopping streets had changed considerably since the afternoon. Most of the stores had closed, their shutters drawn and their merchandise taken inside. The restaurants and taverns were doing brisk business, however, with patrons gathering outside and voices carrying from open doorways. Lamps illuminated the streets, and the smell of grilled meat and fried food drifted from several late-night stalls.

Zoro led them toward a tavern the food vendor had mentioned earlier. Sanji was mildly impressed that he'd remembered the directions, although he still had to correct him at one intersection.

The bar was crowded. Round tables filled the broad main room, most of them occupied by dockworkers, merchants, and locals out for the evening. A few travelers stood near the front windows, and a group at one table had started singing along with the musician playing in the corner. Ceiling fans stirred the warm air above the noise of conversation and clinking glasses. A long wooden bar ran along the back wall, with shelves of bottles and barrels behind it.

Zoro made a beeline for the bar in the back, and Sanji stepped up beside him. They ordered two beers once the bartender was available. Zoro settled onto a stool, and Sanji leaned against the bar beside him, his eyes drifting over the patrons. He spotted a number of ladies he'd love to flirt with.

The bartender served their beers, and Zoro paid for them before taking several long swallows. He wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist, then half turned on his stool to glance around the bar. “See anyone interesting?”

“Ladies are always beautiful and interesting.”

“Not what I meant.”

Sanji's brows rose for a moment, and then he realized what Zoro was saying. He looked around the bar again, this time at the men. “A few, I guess.”

Zoro snorted softly. “Well, that's encouraging.”

“What do you want me to say? I don't usually look at men that way,” Sanji said. “Just sometimes someone catches my eye, so, you know...”

Zoro nodded. “Yeah, I get it.”

Sanji took a sip of his beer and surveyed the room again. It was strange, being asked to look at men openly, even if Zoro was the only person who knew what he was doing. He'd spent so long ignoring that kind of attraction that deliberately allowing himself to notice it felt unfamiliar.

There were a few handsome men in the room. He could admit that much. One near the windows had a pleasant smile, and another at a table by the musician had broad shoulders and an attractive face. Sanji found himself wondering whether either might be interested in men, then felt a little embarrassed that he'd begun considering the possibility.

“What about you, then?” he asked. “Anyone you'd be interested in?”

Zoro's gaze flicked over the crowd again. “Anybody, really. I don't get drawn that way.”

“Then how do you even know if you want to have, uh...” Sanji couldn't get the word sex out. “Something with them?”

“Sometimes I might talk to someone who's obviously gay,” Zoro said. “Occasionally someone approaches me. Then I just ask if they're interested in sex.”

“Not very romantic.”

“Not looking for romance. Just looking to get laid.”

Sanji frowned. Even if he knew he'd only be spending a pleasant evening with a lady, he still wanted to romance her, not just get off. “That's... sad.”

Zoro shrugged. “Just what it is. Not everyone's looking for hearts and flowers like you, love cook.”

“What if someone did give you the romance? Would you just brush it off?”

Zoro appeared surprised by the question. “Who'd want that with me?”

The answer made Sanji's chest pull tight. Zoro looked honestly baffled, as if he thought no one would look at him with love in mind.

Sanji remembered the afternoon they'd spent together, Zoro laughing in the underwear shop, talking enthusiastically with the swordsmith, and standing beside him at the lighthouse. He'd been good company, funny when he wanted to be, and perfectly capable of showing consideration for someone else. Sanji couldn't imagine why anyone who knew him wouldn't find those qualities appealing.

“You're an idiot,” Sanji told him, because he didn't know what else to say.

“Whatever, cook.” Zoro drank his beer, turning his attention back to the crowd. “Sex is sex. You should try it. Get your cherry popped.”

“I'm not a virgin,” Sanji bristled.

“Yeah, but you said you haven't done it with a guy before,” Zoro said. He tipped his beer toward someone across the room. “That guy there's probably gay. Not bad-looking, either.”

Sanji looked where Zoro indicated. Well-dressed, brunet, decent muscle, earrings. Good-looking, just as Zoro had said. The man was sitting at a tall table near the far wall, holding a drink and talking to someone beside him. “How can you tell?”

“He keeps looking over here at you. So he's either a Marine or gay.”

Sanji caught the guy's eye. The guy's lips curved, and he tipped his drink toward Sanji.

Sanji's stomach had a nervous tickle. “Oh, shit.”

“Heh.” Zoro nudged Sanji with an elbow. “Go for it. Have fun.”

Sanji smoothed a hand down his vest, watching the guy. “I don't know...”

“Cook,” Zoro interrupted. “Just go. You won't know what you like unless you try it.”

Sanji really did want to try it, that was true. He wanted to know if touching a man versus the idea of men – fantasy – might be all he wanted in the end. But he wouldn't know if he didn't do anything, and this guy was still looking at him with interest.

He'd been thinking about it more often since his conversation with Zoro, allowing himself to consider possibilities he'd previously dismissed. He knew he was attracted to men, at least sometimes, but there was still a difference between acknowledging the attraction and acting on it.

It was one thing to admit that to Zoro in the privacy of the galley. It was another to approach a stranger with the intention of finding out what being with a man was actually like.

He wasn't afraid of being rejected. He'd been rejected by plenty of women over the years, and he'd survived the experience. What made him nervous was the thought of succeeding. If this man was interested, Sanji would have to decide how far he wanted to go, and he couldn't predict how he'd feel when the opportunity was right in front of him.

Still, he wanted to know. He was tired of wondering, and he was tired of letting old fears decide what he could and couldn't experience.

He knocked back half his beer, anxiety tightening his shoulders. “Here I go,” he said, more to himself than Zoro.

“You'll be fine,” Zoro said, sincerity in his tone. “I'll be around later if you need me.”

Sanji glanced at him. Zoro was watching him with a small, encouraging smile, entirely unconcerned about whether Sanji succeeded or failed. He'd offered advice, given Sanji an opportunity, and apparently considered his part finished. Whatever happened next was Sanji's decision.

Somehow, knowing that made Sanji able to move.

The guy was at the tall two-top by himself, the person he'd been speaking with having moved on. Sanji stopped, hand clenched around his bottle of beer. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey.” The guy's smile grew. He had a gap between both his top and lower teeth. “Was hoping you might come over.” He pointed at the empty seat. “Care to join me?”

Sanji slid onto the tall chair and hoped he didn't look as anxious as he felt. “Name's Sanji.”

“Edison,” Edison replied in kind. “Haven't seen you in here before.”

“Just passing through.”

“Too bad.” Edison's smile remained. “We'd better make the best of it, then.”

Edison turned out to be good company, even if his jokes were terrible and he whistled slightly on his s's. Sanji complimented his earrings and bought him another drink, and Edison returned the attention with an appreciative look at Sanji's clothes.

They talked about the town and the places Edison liked to visit, moving easily into teasing and the occasional bit of innuendo. Sanji found himself relaxing as the conversation continued. Edison had a pleasant manner and seemed genuinely interested in what Sanji had to say, asking about his travels and listening with amusement to a few carefully selected stories about life aboard the Sunny.

Sanji had always enjoyed flirting, and once he got past the initial awkwardness, he discovered that flirting with a man wasn't terribly different from flirting with a woman. He still wanted to make his companion smile, still enjoyed exchanging compliments, and still appreciated the pleasure of being appreciated in return. Edison was an enthusiastic participant, responding to Sanji's attention with little touches and increasingly suggestive comments.

Sanji found himself leaning closer to hear him over the noise. Edison didn't seem to mind. By the time their glasses were nearly empty, his hand was resting on Sanji's forearm.

Every so often Sanji remembered why he'd approached him in the first place, and his nerves returned briefly. But each time, Edison said something amusing or smiled at him, and Sanji found himself enjoying the conversation again.

He'd wanted to find out what being with a man might feel like. So far, he was enjoying himself.

“Why don't we get out of here?” Edison suggested. “I have a place nearby and better drinks.”

The nerves that had settled came rushing back, but mixed with them was anticipation. Sanji glanced toward the bar, where Zoro was talking to someone beside him. Zoro caught his eye briefly and raised his beer in acknowledgment.

Sanji smiled faintly, then returned his attention to Edison. He wanted this. “Sounds good.”

Edison downed his drink and stood. Sanji did the same. Together they left the bar, stepping out into the night.

Sanji didn't stay overnight, but he did stay very late. It was approaching two in the morning when he finally made his way back toward the harbor. Most of the town had shut down for the night, with storefronts dark and their doors locked. The occasional tavern still had lights burning inside, but the streets were largely deserted. His footsteps sounded unusually loud against the cobblestones as he followed the familiar route back to the docks.

He'd been a little sore afterward, but it hadn't lasted long. Now it was more of a phantom reminder of what he'd done. He was pleasantly tired, his body relaxed, and he couldn't quite get rid of the smile that kept appearing whenever he thought about the evening.

Edison had been good company, both at the bar and afterward. Sanji had enjoyed himself considerably more than he'd expected, and the experience had settled a few questions he'd been carrying around for years. He still preferred women, but he'd discovered that his interest in men went beyond appreciating the occasional attractive face and whatever fantasy he’d conjured. He'd enjoyed the attention, the touching, and the intimacy of being with someone who wanted him. He'd also discovered a few things he'd probably do differently next time.

Next time.

The thought made him grin again. A month ago, he wouldn't have seriously considered the possibility. Now he was already thinking about doing it again.

The harbor was nearly deserted when he reached it. A few lamps illuminated the piers, and the ships moored along them sat dark against the water. Farther down the waterfront, a night watchman walked between the warehouses, his lantern moving slowly along the dock. The air was cooler here, and Sanji slipped his hands into his trouser pockets as he approached the Sunny.

He climbed the gangplank onto the ship. A single light burned on the wall near the men's quarters, illuminating a small stretch of deck. The rest of the Sunny was dark, with only the usual sounds of the ship at anchor and the occasional creak from the rigging overhead.

Sanji started to cross the deck when boots thumped behind him. He turned and saw Zoro jump down from the rigging, landing easily a few feet away. He must've taken over watch from whoever had been assigned – it went by lot whenever they were docked, rather than the usual routine. 

Zoro straightened and looked him over, his eye immediately dropping to Sanji's face. He wore a grin that could've been shit-eating, but there was something anticipatory about it, too. Excited, even. Sanji had the distinct impression he'd been looking forward to this conversation.

“Well, you were gone for a while,” Zoro said. “Things work out?”

“Things worked out,” Sanji said, and he couldn't help his own big grin.

Zoro's grin widened in response. “That's great.” He sounded genuinely pleased for him. “Now you know what it's like, you won't be afraid.”

“Tch. I wasn't afraid.”

“Hah! You were quaking in your fancy shoes.”

“My fancy shoes are gonna kick your ass if you keep it up.”

Zoro laughed and raised his hands briefly before dropping them again. He seemed thoroughly delighted by the whole situation, and Sanji found it difficult to maintain even a pretense of irritation.

“So, you got any preferences?” Zoro asked. “Likes? Dislikes?”

“What is this, some sort of interview?” Sanji clicked his tongue. “What I do in the bedroom is my own business.”

“Yeah, I suppose.” Zoro almost sounded disappointed. He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing toward the harbor. “I'd tell you, though, if you wanted to know.”

Sanji watched him for a moment. He'd been so preoccupied with his own evening that he'd nearly forgotten what this meant to Zoro. Zoro wasn't simply being nosy. He was excited that Sanji had finally taken that last step, and he wanted to talk about it with someone who now understood firsthand.

“All right, tell me what you liked.” Sanji pulled the cigarette pack from the breast pocket of his shirt, shook one free, and lit it as he walked over to the side rail. He leaned against it, taking a deep drag and blowing the smoke slowly over the harbor below. Waves lapped lightly at the hull of the Sunny, and the bumpers squeaked where they moved against the pier. A light breeze carried the scent of saltwater and the lingering odors of tar and fish from the docks. Overhead, a line creaked softly in the rigging.

Zoro walked over and joined him, leaning both elbows on the rail and looking out over the water. “Well, I like giving head, eating ass, getting fucked.”

Sanji nearly inhaled his cigarette smoke.

Zoro continued, entirely unembarrassed and matter-of-fact. “I like just kissing, too, though that doesn't happen as often as I'd like.”

Sanji looked at him. He'd expected an answer, naturally, but the bluntness of it still caught him off guard. Then again, Zoro wasn't one to beat around the bush. If Sanji asked him a direct question, he was going to get a direct answer.

It also meant Sanji felt he ought to do the same, even though he knew Zoro wouldn't press if he decided to say nothing. The conversation was already more personal than almost anything they'd discussed before, and he was still getting used to being able to speak so openly.

He took another drag, considering how to put it. “I think I preferred fingers massaging me over being penetrated. More targeted pleasure, you know?”

Zoro grinned again. “Yeah, I know.”

Sanji felt his cheeks warm a little, but continued. “Using my mouth was weird, but I didn't mind that too much. Jizz tastes awful, though.”

Zoro laughed. “You've never tasted your own?”

“Why the hell would I have tasted my own?”

It only made Zoro laugh harder. He bent slightly over the rail, shoulders shaking, before straightening again. “You probably masturbate with gloves on and a towel over the tip to catch everything, so you don't get dirty.”

“I masturbate like a normal person.” Sanji kicked him on the outside of the shin. “You probably use your swords to get off, pervert.”

Zoro looked at him with a twinkle in his eye visible in the lamplight. “Wouldn't you like to know?”

“No, I would not like to know!”

Zoro just laughed again. The sound carried across the deck and out over the harbor. Sanji felt a smile pulling at his lips despite himself. He really liked hearing that laugh.

Sanji had expected to feel embarrassed talking about the evening. He'd certainly been nervous when Zoro first started asking questions. But the more they talked, the easier it became. Zoro treated his answers as perfectly ordinary, sometimes offering an opinion or sharing one of his own experiences, and Sanji found himself responding without having to consider every word first. He was still a little surprised by how comfortable it felt.

They stayed a while longer out on deck, with Sanji finishing his cigarette and Zoro asking increasingly inappropriate questions that mostly got him kicked. Was Edison hung? Did he have hairy balls? Did he have a hairy ass? Did Sanji ride him like a pony, or did he lie back like a princess?

Sanji refused to answer any of them. The conversation had wandered far beyond anything he would've imagined discussing with Zoro a few weeks ago. Yet here they were, leaning against the rail at two in the morning, talking about it. Zoro's silliness and his obvious delight in asking the questions made Sanji smile. He could hardly remember the last time they'd spent so long talking without someone else around, and he was enjoying it more than he'd expected.

Eventually, Sanji finished his smoke and stubbed it out. He pushed off the rail, stretching his back. “I'm heading to bed for a few hours' sleep before I need to start breakfast.”

“Everyone can just eat in town, cook.”

“And you can just leave your katanas in the men's quarters.” Sanji chuckled at Zoro's face in response. “That's what I thought.”

He started toward the men's quarters, feeling pleasantly tired and rather satisfied with himself. He'd spent years questioning this part of himself, and now he'd finally done something about it. He'd enjoyed the evening, and he was glad Zoro had encouraged him to take the chance. More than that, he was glad he'd come back to find someone genuinely happy for him.

He heard Zoro call out behind him, “Night, love cook.”

Sanji glanced back. Zoro was still leaning against the rail, wearing a broad grin that was visible in the lamplight. “Night, marimo.”

At the next island, the Straw Hats disposed of a despot and freed the people of the village. The man had ruled through intimidation, backed by a small army of hired thugs who'd been terrorizing the locals for years. Luffy had taken care of the despot himself, while the rest of the crew dealt with his men. By sundown, the villagers were free, their former ruler was tied up awaiting the Marines, and preparations for a celebratory feast were well underway.

The village square had been transformed for the occasion. Long picnic tables occupied the open space around a central fountain, with strings of lanterns hung between the buildings and a few musicians setting up near the steps of the town hall. People brought out whatever they could spare from their kitchens and storerooms, contributing baskets of bread, fresh fruit, barrels of ale, and vegetables from their gardens.

The celebratory feast included five types of barbecue and a plethora of roasted vegetables. Sanji cooked because that's what he did, and he loved seeing the people they'd helped become even happier when they tasted his food. He'd spent much of the evening tending several large grills, seasoning meat, turning skewers, and directing the villagers who'd volunteered to help. The aromas of roasted pork, beef, chicken, and vegetables filled the square, mingling with the smoke from the charcoal fires.

By the time the feast was in full swing, people were laughing and drinking, children were running between the tables, and the musicians had started playing lively songs. Luffy had already eaten enough to feed several families and was enthusiastically working his way through another platter.

When bellies were full and most of the food was gone, Sanji filled a plate for himself, grabbed a drink, and went to sit at one of the picnic tables in the square. He loosened his tie, took a long swallow of his drink, and finally helped himself to the food he'd spent the evening preparing.

There were locals around him who greeted him warmly, and he fell into conversation with them. An elderly woman wanted to know what he'd used to season the vegetables, while the man beside her thanked him for helping drive the despot's soldiers out of the village. Sanji accepted their gratitude with a smile, though they never helped anyone to be heroes. They helped because everyone should be free. 

His eye caught a flash of green hair across the square, and he saw Zoro standing and talking to a guy near the corner of one of the tables. The man was perhaps a little older than them, broad through the shoulders, with dark hair and a pleasant enough face. Sanji couldn't hear what they were saying over the music and the conversations around him, but Zoro appeared to be doing most of the talking.

The man shook his head and said something before walking away.

For a moment, Sanji saw resignation cross Zoro's face before it disappeared. Then Zoro went and sat down alone at one of the tables with his tankard.

Sanji watched him for another moment. He had a fairly good idea what that conversation had been about. Zoro didn't seem particularly surprised by the rejection, either. 

Someone beside Sanji asked another question about the food, and he turned his attention back to the people at his table. He explained how he'd prepared the pork, accepted another compliment, and listened while one of the villagers recounted Luffy's fight with the despot. Several people were lamenting the damage to the town hall, which the village carpenter had already promised to repair. 

When Sanji glanced back over at Zoro, he was still sitting alone, partly obscured by the people moving between tables. He had one forearm resting on the tabletop and his tankard in the other hand. Every so often he took a drink or looked around the square, but he didn't appear to be making any effort to approach someone else.

Sanji thought about what Zoro had told him that night in the galley, about how seldom he found anyone interested. At the time, Sanji had found it difficult to believe. He'd assumed Zoro was underestimating his appeal, particularly after seeing how much attention he'd received at that party. But perhaps the party had been an exception rather than the rule.

Then two guys walked over, clearly a couple, and sat down across from Zoro with their backs to him. One of them had an arm draped around the other's shoulders, and as they settled onto the bench, they leaned close together to continue their conversation. Their heads were together, shoulders touching, and one occasionally turned to say something directly into the other's ear.

Zoro glanced at them. Sanji could see his face clearly from where he sat. A faint sadness pulled at Zoro's lips as he watched the couple for a few moments. His gaze lingered on the arm around one man's shoulders before he looked away. Then he knocked back the rest of his tankard, got up, and walked away.

Sanji watched him disappear into the crowd. He remembered something else Zoro had said during their evening at Dellmare, when Sanji had asked whether he wanted romance rather than casual sex. 

Who'd want that with me?

Sanji had dismissed the question as ridiculous at the time. He still thought it was ridiculous. But seeing Zoro sitting alone while the people around him enjoyed themselves, then watching his reaction to that couple, gave him a better understanding of why Zoro might have asked it.

His chest clenched uncomfortably on Zoro's behalf. He understood the disappointment of finding someone attractive and discovering the interest wasn't mutual. He'd experienced that plenty of times himself. The difference was that Sanji had always felt free to approach women, knowing there would be another opportunity somewhere else. Zoro had a much smaller selection of potential partners, and even then, finding someone interested in him seemed to be difficult.

Sanji thought about getting up and going to find him. He'd enjoyed spending time with Zoro lately, and there was no reason they couldn't share another drink or join the rest of the crew for the celebration.

But the people at his table drew him into another conversation, pointedly asking about one of the dishes he'd made. Sanji answered automatically, explaining how he'd prepared the marinade. By the time he'd finished, Zoro was nowhere in sight. 

Sanji let it go for now.

A few weeks later, the Sunny docked at another island, this one with a bustling port city that stretched along the coast and up into the surrounding hills. The crew had spent the better part of the day exploring, and by evening they'd found a tavern near the waterfront where the food was decent and the drinks were very cheap.

The tavern was a sprawling establishment with a broad outdoor terrace overlooking the harbor. Lanterns hung beneath the awnings, illuminating tables crowded with sailors, merchants, and locals enjoying the evening. Music came from a small band near the open doors, and servers moved between the tables carrying trays of drinks and food. Beyond the terrace railing, the harbor was dotted with the lights of anchored ships, their reflections rippling across the dark water.

Zoro wasn't drunk, because Zoro didn't get drunk, but Sanji was quite happy. He'd tipped past tipsy and into happy inebriation a few drinks ago. He'd begun flirting with every woman he could see and then, bravely, with a little intoxicated help, had flirted with a few men, too. Some of them simply turned him down – nothing rough or cruel – and a couple flirted back with him.

Sanji was rather pleased with himself. A few months ago, he'd scarcely been able to acknowledge his attraction to men without becoming uncomfortable. Now he'd had several pleasant encounters, learned a little more about what he enjoyed, and discovered that flirting with a handsome man could be every bit as entertaining as flirting with a beautiful woman. He still got nervous sometimes, particularly when someone returned his interest, but it was getting easier.

Tonight, the combination of good company, plentiful alcohol, and a successful day ashore had put him in an especially sociable mood.

He was talking to one of the men now, laughing, smiling, loose-limbed and a little warm. The guy was good-looking enough, with a slightly bigger nose and a curling mustache that Sanji thought could've benefited from some attention. His clothes were decent, though the cut of his jacket left something to be desired. But not everybody could be as sartorially discerning as Sanji. 

Charleston, as he'd introduced himself, had been entertaining him for the past twenty minutes with stories about the local shipping trade and the more interesting people who passed through the port. He had a pleasant laugh, a fondness for terrible jokes, and a habit of touching Sanji's arm whenever he wanted to emphasize something.

Sanji rather enjoyed the attention. But really, he was also trying to be a wingman.

He'd noticed Zoro sitting at the bar a while ago, and as far as Sanji could tell, Zoro hadn't had much luck finding company. He'd spoken to a few people earlier in the evening, though none of those conversations had lasted particularly long. 

Sanji had been paying a little more attention since the celebration on the previous island, when he'd watched Zoro get turned down. Zoro was perfectly capable of finding company when the opportunity presented itself, but those opportunities were less frequent than Sanji had assumed. And Sanji wanted him to have a good time, too. 

“See my friend over there?” Sanji said to Charleston, his arm slung over the man's shoulder.

Charleston followed his gesture as Sanji pointed across the terrace toward the bar. Zoro was sitting on a stool with his elbows resting back on the counter, a mug in one hand and his eye roving over the crowd. Every so often he glanced toward the Straw Hats, most of whom were well into their cups. 

“That guy there is a very gay man,” Sanji announced.

Charleston glanced where Sanji was pointing. “Are you thinking about a threesome?”

Sanji hadn't been thinking about a threesome. 

But now he was very much thinking about a threesome.

His gaze flicked back toward Zoro, and for one brief, thoroughly inappropriate moment he considered what that would entail. He'd never really thought about Zoro in that particular context before. Well, perhaps he'd noticed a few things since becoming more comfortable with his attraction to men, but noticing someone was handsome and contemplating an actual sexual encounter were two very different matters.

And now he was getting considerably warmer under the collar.

Sanji pushed the thought aside for later examination in a locked bathroom with his hand and shook his head. “No, no, no. I just thought maybe you might be interested in him.”

Charleston looked over at Zoro again, studying him for a few moments. Zoro had leaned back farther against the bar, his open coat displaying much of his chest, with his swords prominently at his side. He looked entirely unconcerned with what anyone thought of him.

“He looks kind of mean,” Charleston said. “Standoffish. Not really my type.”

Sanji frowned. He'd heard variations of that assessment before, but it bothered him more now that he'd seen how much trouble Zoro actually had finding someone interested. “He's not mean at all. He just has a resting grumpy face. He's actually quite soft and silly, and he has the best laugh.”

Charleston glanced at Sanji, one eyebrow raised. “If you say so.”

“I do say so. Anybody would be lucky to have him.”

Sanji looked at Zoro again. He meant what he'd said. He'd seen Zoro stubborn and argumentative, and he'd seen him thoughtful, generous, and unexpectedly funny. He'd spent enough time with him lately to know how much more there was to the idiot than his scowl and swords. Anyone who bothered to get close would find that out.

Sanji thought about their afternoon on Dellmare, wandering through clothing shops and laughing over ridiculous underwear, and how easy it had been to spend the entire day together. Zoro had been good company, perfectly willing to indulge Sanji's interests and share his own. He could be surprisingly considerate when he wanted to be, and Sanji knew firsthand how loyal he was to the people he cared about. 

He'd already worked out why people might find Zoro intimidating, but knowing the reasons didn't make it any less frustrating. Especially when Zoro seemed to have accepted that rejection was simply part of his life. Sanji wished someone would take the time to get to know him properly. He was convinced they'd be glad they had.

He was considering whether to elaborate on Zoro's better qualities when Charleston shifted closer, his arm tightening around Sanji's waist. “How about we get out of here so I can get lucky?”

Sanji looked at Charleston, whose hand had drifted down to Sanji's ass. Oh. Well, that was an interesting proposition.

Charleston gave him an inviting smile, his fingers applying a little pressure, and Sanji's attention promptly returned to the handsome man beside him. He'd been having a very pleasant evening, after all, and there was no reason it couldn't get even better. Whatever else he'd been thinking about Zoro could wait until tomorrow.

Sanji grinned. “Sounds delightful to me.”

Zoro had gotten a seriously itchy rash, and Chopper had covered him in pink calamine lotion from neck to navel – except over his nipples. It looked as though he had two eyes staring at everyone in a sea of pale pink. It was hilarious.

The men's quarters smelled faintly medicinal, and the little jar of calamine lotion sat on the table. Zoro occupied the edge of his bunk, shirtless, with his arms held slightly away from his sides to avoid rubbing the treatment off. 

They'd been on the island since the previous afternoon, and Zoro had disappeared almost immediately after they'd docked. He'd eventually returned to the Sunny covered in angry red patches, scratching at his chest and complaining that the island's vegetation was trying to kill him. Chopper had identified the problem within minutes. Sanji had been enjoying the results ever since.

“Only you could fall asleep in a patch of poison ivy and then kind of roll around in it to get comfortable,” Sanji said, not withholding his snicker.

Zoro glowered at him. “Usopp's the plant guy. Why would I know anything about that shit?”

“Just goes to show, maybe you should stop napping in strange places. Or just stop getting lost altogether.”

“You know that's not going to happen,” Zoro muttered. He reached toward his stomach, evidently intending to scratch, then caught himself and dropped his hand. His expression grew even more disgruntled.

Sanji chuckled again. “Cheer up. Chopper said it'd be gone before tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to go to the bar tonight,” Zoro said. “Was hoping to find someone interested in some company.”

Sanji pretended to be put out. “Guess I'll have to find some on your behalf.”

Zoro grinned at that. “You do seem to be having fun.”

“Tch. A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell.”

“I don't see any gentleman around here.”

“Well, you're definitely not one,” Sanji said. “You look like you had a roll in the sack with a clown.”

“I did blow a clown once,” Zoro told him. “Then he tried to kill me.”

Sanji stared at him. Zoro was entirely serious, which somehow made the statement worse. “Please don't tell me it was Buggy.”

Zoro pulled a face. “Ugh. No, not Buggy. Someone from his crew. Was before your time.”

There were a great many things about Zoro's life before the crew that Sanji had never heard about. Apparently, some of them were considerably stranger than he'd imagined. “Did you at least get a chance to get off first?” 

“No.” Zoro almost looked as though he was pouting. “I'm more pissed off about that than the trying-to-kill-me thing.”

Sanji shook his head. “That's pathetic.”

Zoro shrugged, apparently seeing nothing unreasonable about his priorities. Then his face turned sly. “You need to go out tonight and get laid. And then tell me about it. I could live vicariously through you.”

“I already told you, a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell.”

“Come on. Look at me.” Zoro gestured toward his pink-coated torso. “I know you think I look stupid. Take pity.”

Sanji opened his mouth to make another comment about the ridiculous sight, but Zoro paused, then added a little more quietly, “Was kind of hoping for that kind of touch again, you know?”

Sanji's amusement faded. He looked at Zoro, who'd dropped his hands into his lap and was studying a patch of lotion on his forearm. The idiot had made a joke of it earlier, but Sanji knew he'd been looking forward to going out. They'd spent enough time together lately for him to recognize when Zoro was genuinely disappointed about something.

And now Zoro had admitted that what he'd wanted was a little physical affection. Sanji thought about how readily Zoro accepted whatever attention came his way when he found someone interested, and how infrequently that seemed to happen.

Sanji felt bad now. “How's hearing about what I did going to help with that?” 

“Yeah, you're right.” Zoro looked away, then scratched idly at his pink-coated chest before remembering himself and pulling his hand back. “But you still need to go out. At least one of us should get laid.”

Sanji studied him for a moment. He could offer to stay aboard and keep Zoro company, although he suspected Zoro would refuse. Zoro had been the one encouraging him to go out and enjoy himself for weeks, and Sanji knew he genuinely meant it. Besides, Chopper had ordered Zoro to leave the lotion alone and get some rest. A night drinking together in the men's quarters would probably end with both of them fighting and getting yelled at.

Before Sanji could say anything else, Zoro's grin suddenly turned rotten. “This way you can catch up, too.”

Sanji sputtered with indignation. “I've gotten laid plenty!”

“Yeah, but not with guys.” His rotten grin remained. “I'm winning there.”

Sanji narrowed his eyes. Oh, so that was how he wanted to play it. “Fine! Just for that, I'm gonna go out, and I'm going to find a guy, and we're going to have so much sex it'll be like having sex with multiple men.”

Zoro snickered. “Sure you are.”

“In fact, I might have sex with more than one guy tonight.” Sanji straightened his tie, taking particular care with the knot. He'd already changed into one of his nicer shirts and trousers, intending to spend the evening in town. “You just stay here like a pathetic pink moss while the real man of the ship gets some action.”

“You do that.” Zoro's expression plainly said he didn't believe a word.

“Tch. Just you wait.”

Sanji turned on his heel and left the men's quarters to the main deck. The Sunny was moored alongside a broad wooden pier, with the town's waterfront visible beyond the neighboring ships. Most of the crew had already gone ashore, leaving the deck largely deserted. A few harbor workers were finishing up for the evening, and lights had begun appearing in the windows of the buildings along the quay.

Sanji was halfway down the dock when he realized what Zoro had done. That sneaky bastard. Zoro had spent the entire conversation encouraging him to go out, first by appealing to his sympathy and then by deliberately provoking his competitive streak. He'd known exactly which remarks would get Sanji moving. And he'd managed it while sitting on his bunk looking utterly ridiculous in pink lotion.

Sanji shook his head, a reluctant smile appearing despite his irritation. He continued toward town, following the waterfront road past warehouses and fishing boats being secured for the night. The evening air was pleasant, and the smell of grilled food drifted from the taverns farther along the harbor. He could already hear music and conversation coming from the busier streets ahead.

He hadn't decided where to go yet. There were several establishments he'd noticed during his earlier shopping trip, and he supposed he could start with whichever looked most promising.

Sanji adjusted his cuffs and checked his reflection in the darkened window of a closed shop as he passed. Satisfied, he carried on toward the lights. If it was that important to Zoro for him to get laid tonight, he wouldn't disappoint.

Though he still wouldn't kiss and tell.

“What does it taste like...” Sanji trailed off, cleared his throat, and tried again. “What does it taste like when you... lick someone... there?”

He and Zoro were seated alone on the upper deck, leaning against the main mast, sharing an aged port Sanji had been gifted at the last island. The evening had been pleasantly warm, and the breeze coming off the water was just cool enough to make sitting outside comfortable. Above them, the stars were bright, unobstructed by clouds, and the moon illuminated a broad stretch of ocean beyond the Sunny's rail.

The rest of the crew were tucked into bed. It was Zoro's watch, but Sanji had stayed up with him. The port was an excuse.

He'd found Zoro in the crow's nest earlier, cleaning one of his swords, and invited him down for a drink. Zoro had accepted readily enough, putting away his equipment and following Sanji to the upper deck. They'd spent the first hour discussing their latest island visit, the crew's plans, and whatever else occurred to them. The conversation had gradually dwindled into comfortable silence before Sanji finally worked up the nerve to ask what he'd been wondering about.

Zoro had said at the beginning that if Sanji ever had questions, just to ask. Sanji hadn't thought he'd ever take Zoro up on it, but here he was, doing just that. He had enough experience under his belt now that the idea of talking about the specifics of gay sex didn't twist him into knots. He'd done quite a number of things, found what he liked and what he didn't, and never had a problem finding company. In fact, it was much easier to pick up a guy than a lady.

But there were a few things Sanji hadn't tried or allowed on himself, because he was leery of them. His last bedmate had made a suggestion that caught him off guard, and although he'd declined, he'd found himself thinking about it afterward. There was no particular reason he couldn't ask Zoro about it. Zoro had already demonstrated that he could discuss these things without making Sanji feel foolish. Still, Sanji had needed most of a glass of port before he could get the question out.

“Tastes like skin,” Zoro said simply, not asking why Sanji wanted to know or teasing him about it. “Smell of jock's stronger when you've got your nose right up in their balls, or they're sitting on your face. Gotta beware of a hairy crack, though. Use your thumbs to keep it clear.”

Sanji wanted to change the subject or flee. He took a long swallow of his port instead, watching the dark liquid settle in his glass as he lowered it. “Isn't it dirty?”

“If he's got tread marks or danglers, you don't do it.”

Sanji pulled a face. “That's disgusting.”

“Yeah. Doesn't happen often, but it can. Most guys I've met know what they're looking for, so they clean up before heading out.”

“Do you even know how to bathe?”

Zoro scoffed around his drink. “Just because I don't spend my life in front of a mirror doesn't mean I don't clean up. Especially if I'm going out.”

“Could've fooled me.”

“You share a bathroom with me, cook. You know I wash.”

“Not nearly often enough.”

Zoro rolled his eye and took another drink.

Sanji looked up at the stars. The conversation had taken a decidedly more practical turn than he'd anticipated. He supposed he should've expected that from Zoro. The idiot was perfectly capable of discussing intimate subjects with the same matter-of-fact attitude he brought to maintaining his swords. “So what do you get out of it?”

“Feels good if you're into it, and it's just something I like to do as foreplay.” Zoro shrugged. “Some guys aren't into it, and that's fine, too. Not everyone has to be into everything.”

“Hn.” Sanji looked down at the liquid in his glass. “Suppose you're right.”

“I know I'm right.”

“Don't let it get to your head.” Sanji took a sip. “How did you even figure out that you liked it?”

“First time, the guy I was with just sat on my face and told me to eat him out. He was quite vocal about how it felt.” Zoro's lips curled slightly.

Sanji turned his head to stare at him. “He just did that? Without asking?”

“Pretty much.”

“And you were fine with it?”

Zoro considered that for a moment. “Surprised me, but I figured I'd give it a try. Turned out I liked it.”

Sanji shook his head in disbelief. He was glad that hadn't happened to him. He probably would've freaked out and kicked the guy through the roof.

His last bedmate had simply asked if he could eat Sanji out, and Sanji had declined. The man had accepted his answer without complaint, and they'd gone on to have a very pleasant evening. But afterward, Sanji had wondered whether he'd refused because the idea genuinely didn't appeal to him or because he was uncomfortable trying something unfamiliar. He still wasn't entirely sure. 

He appreciated that Zoro hadn't made any attempt to convince him. He'd answered the questions, offered his own experience, and left Sanji to decide what he wanted to do with the information. It was reassuring to know he could ask without being expected to try anything afterward.

Zoro drank another sip. “Any other questions rattling around in that head of yours, love cook?”

“Only about how much I'm going to let us drink before I put the bottle away,” Sanji deflected. In reality, he was thinking it was nice to have someone he could ask anything, someone who encouraged him to get out there without making him feel pressured. He might've stayed firmly in the closet if Zoro hadn't opened up to him and then accepted Sanji's admission without making a fuss. 

“It's good shit,” Zoro said, reaching for the bottle to top off his glass. His voice became more mellow as he relaxed again against the mast. “Kinda nice, sitting here, shooting the shit with you.”

Sanji had to agree. The admission pleased him more than he'd expected. Zoro wasn't particularly demonstrative. Sanji had assumed he was enjoying himself, judging by how often he sought Sanji out, but hearing him say it was different. “We don't fight all the time.”

“No. And it's fun when we do.” Zoro shot him a bloodthirsty grin. “Good practice. Keeps me on my toes.”

“You would find it fun.” Sanji wouldn't admit he did, too. Their arguments could be infuriating, but he liked having someone who could match him insult for insult and challenge him without taking everything personally. He'd always appreciated Zoro's strength and determination, even when the idiot’s stubbornness drove him mad.

“I like that you're passionate about shit,” Zoro said. “That you're not afraid to yell at me or argue with me about anything. Even when I think it's stupid.”

The words were unexpected, particularly coming from someone who usually responded to his opinions with an insult or a threat to cut him. “Nothing I say is ever stupid. And you deserve every word.”

Zoro huffed softly. “Maybe.”

Sanji smiled into his glass. He'd never expected Zoro to appreciate their arguments, much less tell him so. They'd been saying things to each other tonight that ordinarily would've gone unspoken, and Sanji was beginning to realize how much he liked having someone he could be so open with.

Sanji wondered whether Zoro had things of his own that he'd never had the opportunity to ask. He glanced sideways at Zoro. “You ever had any questions that no one's ever answered?”

Zoro sat quietly, not immediately responding or brushing him off. He turned his glass slowly between his fingers, watching the port move against the sides. Finally, he said, “Never had someone to ask.”

Sanji's chest tightened at that. He'd suspected as much, but hearing Zoro confirm it made him reconsider just how long Zoro had been handling this part of his life entirely on his own. “You do now.”

“Yeah.” A faint smile crossed Zoro's lips. “I do.”

Sanji felt a sudden urge to put an arm around him, pull him into a hug. He resisted, partly because he wasn't certain how Zoro would react and partly because he wasn't sure what had prompted the impulse in the first place. He settled for nudging Zoro's shoulder with his own. “So... questions?” Sanji prompted.

“Nothing about sex. I fumbled my way through all of that back in Shimotsuki.” Zoro took another drink, then tipped his head back to look at the stars. “Never did like girls that way. Can't see the appeal.”

Sanji turned toward him in disbelief. “Can't see– they're beautiful! And curvaceous. And have lovely, lovely breasts.” He thought about those lovely breasts, and his nose tingled. “They're divine and soft, and it's wonderful sinking deep into a heavy, velvet heat.”

Zoro snorted. “Rather be pounded by a dick.”

“Tch. You don't know what you're missing.”

“Hard pass.”

Sanji nudged him in the ankle. “Dumbass gay marimo.”

Zoro nudged him back, a grin playing on his lips. “Idiot half-gay love cook.”

Sanji opened his mouth with a retort already prepared, then stopped. It was a label Sanji would've fought against before. He'd spent so long treating that part of himself as something to be ignored that he'd never considered how ordinary it could feel once he stopped. It was simply another fact about himself, no different from his blond hair or curled eyebrows.

And Zoro had accepted it from the beginning.

Sanji nudged him again, a little more gently this time. “Hey, next island – let's you and me hang out again after I restock.”

Zoro turned his head. His expression brightened, and he shot Sanji a crooked grin. “I'd like that.”

Sanji found his lips pulling up into his own smile. He hadn't planned on asking, but now he was glad he had. He enjoyed the time he spent with Zoro, and there was no reason to wait until Zoro happened to seek him out again. Besides, it seemed to make Zoro happy.

Sanji clicked his glass against Zoro's, took a drink, and settled back again to look at the stars. Zoro shifted closer until their shoulders touched, then leaned against him slightly. Sanji leaned back against him. 

The port was excellent, the night was pleasant, and Sanji had nowhere else he particularly wanted to be. It was a great night to be on deck, sharing a drink with Zoro.

The next island they landed at launched them into an all-out, three-sided war, with the local Marines on one side, a crazed Devil Fruit czar on another, and a band of ruthless pirates itching to take over the town. Luffy had taken the side of the Marines because, although the Straw Hats were enemies of the World Government, the Marines were trying to protect the locals from the chaos.

Sanji got separated from most of the crew early on, fighting his own battles against the other pirate crew alongside Franky and Brook. Nami and Chopper were helping the injured townsfolk, with Jinbe protecting the area from aggressors. Zoro, Luffy, and Robin had gone to fight the czar and his loyal men.

The fighting was brutal and bloody. Sanji kept his defenses high and was glad he could tap into Conqueror's Haki. When one fell, another came, each one as vicious and difficult to fight as the last. This part of the New World held the strongest, and those who'd made it this far were no joke.

The sun shifted across the horizon, from midday until evening, before the pirates were finally fully defeated. Sanji left Franky and Brook and hurried in the direction where he could still hear the sounds of battle. Luffy's Gear Fifth laughter drifted through the air, and beneath it was the clash of steel against steel.

Sanji used Sky Walk to reach the rooftops, then leaped from rooftop to rooftop to avoid the destruction below. Whole sections of the street had been torn apart, with broken masonry scattered between overturned carts and collapsed walls. Smoke rose from several buildings, and Marines were beginning to move through the wreckage, gathering prisoners and directing civilians away from the damaged areas.

When he finally reached the fighting, it had almost stopped. He looked down from the edge of a gabled roof to the street below.

A massive man lay sprawled across the shattered pavement, partially buried beneath the remains of a stone wall. He was easily twice Zoro's size, with thick, muscular arms covered in scars and a heavy iron breastplate split down the middle. One of his enormous swords lay broken several feet away, while the other had been driven into the street up to its hilt. His clothing bore the czar's insignia, and the deep cuts across his armor made it obvious he'd put up one hell of a fight.

Then Sanji saw Zoro standing a short distance away, breathing heavily, covered in blood. His coat hung in tatters, and his trousers had been slashed in several places. Blood ran down the side of his face. His swords were still in his hands, although the tips hung toward the ground.

Sanji was about to call out a disparaging remark when Zoro suddenly dropped to his knees and then face-first onto the street. "Zoro!"

Sanji leaped down from the roof and landed with a scrape of his shoes. He rushed over to where Zoro lay, his swords scattered around him on the ground. He knelt, moved the swords out of the way, and carefully rolled Zoro over.

Zoro's eye was closed, his face slack and surprisingly cut up. The bandana around his head seemed soaked with more than sweat. His arms appeared much the same, and his thighs had several slashes through the material of his trousers that bled profusely. For once, his chest hadn't taken the brunt of his fighting. Sanji wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

He pressed two fingers to Zoro's neck, relieved when he found a strong pulse. Zoro was breathing regularly, too, although he was clearly exhausted.

"Idiot," Sanji said, his voice tight. "You need to learn some self-love."

Whatever had happened had pushed Zoro to his limits, and he'd dropped into unconsciousness. The lingering sounds from Luffy had faded, as had any other sounds of fighting. Sanji presumed that meant they'd won.

He turned his attention to Zoro's legs. Blood had soaked through the material of his trousers, especially around one thigh, spreading farther down toward his knee. Sanji carefully pulled the torn fabric aside to examine the injuries. Several were shallow cuts, but one on the inner thigh was considerably deeper and still bleeding heavily.

He knew enough about anatomy to recognize that the major blood vessels running through the thigh were dangerously close to that wound. If an artery had been cut, Zoro could bleed out. He couldn't tell how deep the damage went, but he didn't like what he was seeing.

Sanji ripped a strip from Zoro's red sash, folded it into a thick pad, and pressed it firmly against the wound. Blood immediately stained the fabric. He added another folded section and secured it tightly in place, keeping pressure over the injury. Sanji wasn't a doctor, but he could at least try to keep Zoro from losing any more blood until Chopper could examine him. 

He collected Zoro's swords and slid them into their sheaths, securing them together so he could carry them, then he scooped Zoro into his arms. Sanji expected him to be heavy because of his muscle, but for some reason, right now he felt surprisingly light. Sanji adjusted his hold, keeping Zoro's injured legs supported and his head tucked beneath his chin. "Let's get you to Chopper."

He hurried through the wreckage of the fight, choosing streets that were still passable. Marines were helping people and arresting others. They glanced at Sanji and paused when they recognized them both, but then went back to their work. The battle was over, and there were too many injured people to worry about two pirates making their way through town.

There was smoke and dust in the air, and the sounds of people calling to one another, shouting directions, and helping each other out. A few residents were already emerging from their homes, searching for family members or assessing the damage to their property. Sanji passed a group of Marines carrying an injured man on a makeshift stretcher, then stepped around several civilians clearing fallen masonry from a doorway.

He kept glancing down at Zoro, checking that he was still breathing normally. The blood on his face had begun to dry, although the cloth around his thigh remained worryingly dark.

Sanji felt Zoro stir against him. "Hn. Cook."

"I got you, marimo," Sanji said.

Zoro shifted his head slightly against Sanji's shoulder. His voice was weak and exhausted. "I like you keeping me safe."

Sanji felt that comment lodge right beneath his ribs, and it tightened his own voice. "Always, you dumbass."

Zoro hummed again and fell silent. His breathing remained audible against Sanji's chest, reassuring him that Zoro hadn't slipped too deeply into unconsciousness.

Sanji adjusted his hold and quickened his pace.

The town's hospital had been one of the first buildings attacked by the czar's men, its upper floor partially destroyed and several treatment rooms rendered unusable. The local doctors had moved their surviving equipment and patients to the municipal assembly hall, a broad, two-story building near the town square.

The hall had been converted into a temporary medical ward. Its double doors stood open, and several people moved in and out carrying basins, blankets, and supplies. Inside, the rows of benches ordinarily used for public meetings had been pushed against the walls to make room for pallets and cots. Tables near the entrance held bandages, bottles of antiseptic, instruments, and other equipment salvaged from the hospital.

The place was crowded. Injured townsfolk lay on the makeshift beds, some sleeping, others talking to family members seated nearby. Doctors and nurses moved between them, changing dressings and examining wounds. A few Marines occupied pallets near the far wall, their uniforms stained with blood and dust.

Sanji carried Zoro through the room, careful not to bump anyone as he passed. He found an open pallet near the side wall and lowered Zoro onto it, keeping the injured leg supported until it was resting on the bedding.

Zoro opened his eye halfway and looked up at him. Sanji briefly touched his bandana-covered forehead. "I'll go get Chopper."

"I'll be here," Zoro joked weakly.

Sanji huffed softly. "You'd better be."

He straightened and went looking for Chopper, finding him across the room working with two local doctors. Chopper had his medical bag open on a table and was examining a man's injured shoulder while one of the nurses prepared fresh bandages.

Chopper looked up when Sanji approached. "Sanji! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Can't say the same about the mosshead. He's cut up pretty bad. He may have nicked something in his leg."

"Show me where he is," Chopper said immediately. He gathered his equipment, exchanged a few quick words with the other doctors, and hurried after Sanji.

Zoro was propped on his elbows when they returned, looking ashen beneath the blood and cuts on his face. He'd removed his swords after Sanji walked off, and now they sat at his side rather than attached to his hips. "Hey, Chop."

"Wah! Zoro, you look terrible! Someone call a doctor!"

"You're the doctor," Sanji and Zoro said simultaneously.

"Eh-heh-heh. Oh, yeah."

Chopper set his medical backpack down beside Zoro and immediately got to work. He checked Zoro's pulse and breathing, examined his pupils, and felt carefully along his ribs and abdomen before turning his attention to the injured leg.

The bright red sash around Zoro's thigh had darkened considerably from blood. Chopper examined its position and the surrounding fabric without disturbing the dressing. "Did you put this on?" he asked Sanji.

"Yeah. It wouldn't stop bleeding."

"Good. Leave it there for now."

Chopper checked Zoro's foot, feeling for a pulse and asking him to move his toes. Zoro managed it, although he complained when Chopper pressed along his leg. The doctor then examined the other cuts, checking for deeper injuries. "Sanji, could you get me a basin of clean water and some cloths? And ask one of the nurses for more sterile dressings."

Sanji nodded and went to fetch what he needed.

When he returned, Chopper had removed Zoro's bandana, revealing a nasty gash crossing his scalp. He'd already cleaned away some of the blood, leaving several smaller cuts visible along Zoro's forehead and temple.

Sanji set down the supplies and studied him. "You look like a tomato with all that red and green," he commented.

Zoro huffed but didn't say anything, and Sanji could tell he was fighting to stay awake. His eye kept drifting closed, only to reopen when Chopper asked him another question.

Chopper took a clean cloth from the basin and wrung it out. "Thanks, Sanji."

He cleaned the remaining blood from Zoro's face and arms, identifying which cuts needed stitches and which could be treated with dressings. Most were superficial, although the scalp wound required more attention.

"He's exhausted and he's lost some blood," Chopper said. "He needs stitches and rest."

"And sake," Zoro added.

"No alcohol!"

Zoro looked at Sanji and mouthed, Booze.

Sanji snorted. "Behave. You'll get your drink later."

Chopper gave them both a disapproving look before returning his attention to Zoro's leg. "All right, Zoro. I'm going to take care of this now. You need to stay as still as you can."

"Yeah, yeah."

Chopper asked Sanji to bring over a lamp and help arrange his instruments. He'd treated enough of the crew's injuries over the years that he could perform minor procedures without a proper operating room, provided he had clean equipment and someone to assist him.

Sanji held the lamp while Chopper removed the bloodied dressing. The wound began bleeding again, and Chopper immediately applied pressure.

"Hm. Looks like a small arterial branch was nicked," he said. "That explains the blood loss."

"Can you fix it here?" Sanji asked.

"Yes. I'll need your help, though."

Chopper administered a local anesthetic, cleaned the area, and set to work. Sanji held the light and passed him instruments and fresh dressings as requested, watching Chopper carefully expose the damaged vessel and repair it with fine sutures. Zoro endured the treatment without much complaint, although he eventually drifted off to sleep.

Chopper checked the repair, then closed the wound and covered it with a fresh dressing. "There," he said, sitting back on his heels. "That should hold."

Sanji released a breath he'd been holding. "He's going to be all right?"

"Yes. He lost quite a bit of blood, but the damage was small and the repair went well. He'll need fluids and rest, and I'll keep an eye on him tonight." Chopper glanced at Zoro's sleeping face. "He pushed himself pretty hard today."

"That's what he does." 

"I know." Chopper sighed. "I'm going to finish treating the other cuts and keep him here tonight. I'll have one of the nurses help me monitor him."

Sanji gathered the used cloths and helped clear the treatment area.

"Thanks for helping," Chopper said.

"Anytime." Sanji gave Zoro one last look before leaving Chopper to his work. There were plenty of other people who still needed help, and he could come back to check on Zoro later.

Sanji left the ward and returned to the damaged streets. Marines and civilians were working together to clear the roads and help the remaining injured. 

He spent the next few hours moving debris from blocked entrances, carrying medical supplies, and using Sky Walk to rescue several residents trapped above a collapsed staircase. He welcomed having something useful to do since cooking wasn’t a viable alternative. Every so often, he thought about Zoro lying unconscious on the pallet.

As evening deepened, lamps appeared in the windows of the surviving buildings. The streets were still cluttered with debris, but the worst of the immediate danger had passed. Families were beginning to reunite, and the Marines had organized several teams to continue the cleanup overnight.

The sun had long since set by the time Sanji returned to the makeshift ward. The assembly hall was calmer than before. Some of the injured were sleeping, and the doctors had finished treating most of the more urgent cases. A few nurses moved quietly between the pallets, checking dressings and bringing water to patients who were awake.

Zoro was awake again, propped slightly against a folded blanket and fiddling with the bandage on his arm. His swords rested beside the pallet, close enough for him to reach without sitting up.

"Chopper'll skin you if you take those off," Sanji said, stopping beside him. "Or at least pout at you, which is worse."

Zoro sighed. "I don't need them."

"You do. You look like you've been julienned."

Sanji eyed the butterfly bandages on Zoro's face and the bandages wrapped around his head. The worst of the blood had been cleaned away, and his skin had regained some color. He still looked thoroughly battered, but at least he was awake and capable of arguing. "Did Chopper have to cut your hair?"

"No. That one wasn't too deep."

"Good. Your green hair is ridiculous enough as it is without a shaved line through it."

Zoro shot him a flat look, then sighed. "Guess we won't be hanging out on this stopover."

Sanji glanced around the ward. A few people were talking quietly with family members, while a nurse at the far end of the hall was reorganizing a table of supplies. It wasn't exactly the sort of place he'd imagined spending the evening with Zoro, but Zoro seemed disappointed enough about missing their outing.

Sanji sank to the floor beside the pallet in a cross-legged position. "We could just hang out right here."

"Not exactly the same."

"Once Chopper's fully distracted, I'll go steal us some sake. Then it'll be close enough."

Zoro's lips pulled up at the corners. "I think I can get behind that."

"Thought you might." 

Sanji relaxed back on his hands, stretching his legs. He was tired, his clothing was dusty, and his muscles ached from fighting and carrying debris. But Zoro was awake, his injuries had been treated, and there was finally an opportunity for them to spend some time together. "Tell me about your fight."

Feldstone Island was a big island with an equally big city hugging the coast. The Thousand Sunny dropped anchor in the port midmorning, joining a crowded harbor filled with merchant ships, fishing vessels, and a few other pirate crews stopping for supplies. Warehouses lined the waterfront, with broad streets leading uphill into the commercial districts. Beyond the buildings, Sanji could see green hills rising toward the island's mountainous interior.

Sanji did his supply run while Zoro volunteered for pack mule duty, and together they got the ship restocked and the supplies put away by late afternoon. By the time everything was stowed in the Sunny's pantry and storerooms, Sanji was ready for a drink.

He was taking over watch at eight, but that still left him plenty of time to head into town. He cleaned up and changed into a nicer shirt, leaving his jacket in his locker. The evening was warm enough that he wouldn't need it, and he rather liked the way the shirt fit him.

Zoro was leaning against the mast when Sanji came out of the men's quarters, arms folded and half-asleep. He straightened when he heard Sanji. "About time. It takes me, like, five seconds to wash my ass."

"I feel sorry for your partners if that's the case."

Zoro snorted and pushed away from the mast. Sanji lit a cigarette, and the two of them left the Sunny.

They headed specifically to a gay bar, since the town offered one. Sanji wouldn't be hanging around too long due to his watch, but Zoro should at least get to enjoy himself. They'd found it mentioned in a small entertainment guide he'd picked up while shopping, tucked among advertisements for restaurants, taverns, and music halls. It was several streets inland, away from the rowdier drinking establishments around the docks.

The bar occupied the ground floor of a narrow brick building, its entrance marked by a painted sign and a pair of frosted-glass doors. Inside, the lighting was pleasantly subdued, with small lamps illuminating the tables and a polished wooden counter stretching along one wall. Framed photographs and colorful posters decorated the walls, and a few potted plants occupied the windowsills.

It was still early, and there weren't too many people inside. A handful of customers sat at the bar, while two men occupied a booth near the back, talking over drinks. The bartender greeted them as they entered, and Sanji immediately approved of the bottles displayed behind the counter. He and Zoro ordered a couple of drinks, then took one of the tables.

They fell into easy conversation about Franky's trial security system for the Sunny, which was supposed to make it so somebody didn't have to be on watch whenever they made landfall. Not that they hadn't all left the Sunny before, but usually there was a battle involved and other pressing concerns than someone stealing their ship or anything on it.

Sanji enjoyed these evenings with Zoro, even when they argued. He'd spent years trading insults with the cooks at the Baratie, and Zoro could give as good as he got. 

Zoro finished one drink and got them both a second, which Sanji nursed. It wouldn't do to get drunk before going on watch.

More people began to fill the bar as the sun began to set. Someone was setting up music in the corner using Dials and a phonograph, testing the volume before settling on a lively tune. Locals called greetings to one another, and regulars settled in at the bar, exchanging jokes with the bartender. A few couples occupied the tables around them, and several men had begun moving between groups, introducing themselves or joining conversations.

Sanji noticed a handsome man near the counter glance his way. He returned the look with a smile, pleased when the man smiled back, but he made no effort to approach him. He was enjoying himself where he was, and he had to leave soon anyway.

Zoro was telling him about a sword he'd seen earlier that afternoon, a poorly maintained blade hanging from a pirate’s belt. Sanji listened while Zoro explained exactly what was wrong with it, occasionally interrupting to ask a question. He liked watching Zoro talk about swords. Zoro could be downright enthusiastic when the subject interested him, and Sanji had learned considerably more about blade maintenance than he'd ever expected to know.

When Zoro finished his story, Sanji excused himself to use the restroom. He was gone for perhaps five minutes. When he returned, he saw someone sitting at their table talking to Zoro.

The man was decent-looking, a little on the thinner side, with tousled brown hair and prominent cheekbones. He'd pulled his chair closer to Zoro's and was leaning forward with one elbow on the table. Zoro was half-grinning, leaning closer and responding to whatever the guy had just said.

Sanji stopped. A sudden spear of jealousy caught him so thoroughly by surprise that he stood there for several seconds, staring.

What the hell?

He wasn't supposed to be jealous. Zoro was nakama, nothing more. Zoro was someone who pushed him toward other people, who celebrated when he got laid. There wasn't anything to be jealous about. Zoro had every right to find companionship, especially because it was a lot rarer for him.

Sanji had spent weeks wishing someone would take an interest in Zoro. He'd even tried introducing him to people, with limited success. Now someone had approached him without any encouragement at all, and Zoro appeared to be enjoying the attention. Sanji ought to have been pleased.

Instead, he wanted to go over there and kick the other guy right off his chair, possibly even across the room.

He curled his hands into fists and told himself he was being stupid.

The stranger said something else, and Zoro laughed. It wasn't the laugh Sanji usually heard. This one was more reserved, a brief chuckle accompanied by a half-smile. But it was still a laugh, and Sanji suddenly found himself resenting the man for earning it. Which was ridiculous.

Zoro had been looking forward to meeting someone tonight. Sanji knew that. He'd watched Zoro sit alone in enough bars to understand how much it meant when someone approached him. Now that it was finally happening, Sanji was contemplating ruining it for reasons he couldn't properly explain.

He needed to get out of the bar before he did something regrettable.

He stepped aside, pulled a cigarette from his case, and lit it. The first drag helped him concentrate on something other than the sight of Zoro smiling at another man. He took another, then waited until he could compose his face into a blank mask. Once he was reasonably certain he could behave himself, he wandered back to the table.

"Looks like you found a friend," Sanji said, keeping his tone even.

"Yeah," Zoro said. "We're getting along, too."

The man glanced up at Sanji, offering a polite smile. Sanji returned it automatically, although he had to make a conscious effort. "Well, don't mind me. I'm gonna be heading back to the ship. You two have fun."

Zoro looked at him curiously but nodded. "Okay. I know you've got watch in about an hour."

"That I do," Sanji said. He tipped his head in goodbye and left the bar.

He could hear the music as he stepped onto the street, along with laughter from the customers gathered near the entrance. A few pedestrians passed him on their way toward the busier entertainment district, and the lamps along the sidewalk had been lit against the approaching evening.

Sanji started toward the waterfront. He smoked two cigarettes on the walk back to the ship, calling himself an idiot in every way he could think of. The streets were crowded with people enjoying the evening, and he had to pay attention to where he was going as he passed outdoor cafés and busy intersections. He barely noticed the shops he'd been interested in visiting earlier.

He wanted Zoro to enjoy himself, wanted him to find someone who appreciated him. Zoro might look like a thug, but he was stupidly soft and ridiculously silly. He knew how to listen and how to cut bullshit down to its simplest parts, and he wasn't afraid of being honest and true to himself. 

Ever since Sanji came out to him, Zoro had been open and relaxed and even happy. He'd been laughing and smiling more, and Sanji loved it every single time.

Sanji loved hanging out with him, talking to him, and still fighting with him, because it was just part of who they were. And thinking about it, if Sanji was honest with himself, he'd loved every minute of his time spent with Zoro over the past few months. Every stupid joke, every dry aside, every word of encouragement or quiet moment when something personal was shared. He'd loved it all.

He loved Zoro.

Sanji paused midstep, halfway up the gangplank, his eyes widening as the realization finally caught up with him.

Holy shit. He was in love with Zoro.

He'd spent all this time wanting someone to appreciate Zoro, someone who could look beyond his appearance and discover how much he had to offer.

Apparently, that someone was Sanji.

"Oh, fuck," he muttered.

Now, what was he going to do about it?

Sanji baked.

He wasn't as good a baker as he was a cook, since the two required different skill sets. Still, he knew his way around an oven, and right now he needed something to occupy his hands while his brain sorted itself out.

He kept the galley door propped open so he could hear anyone come aboard the ship. He was still on watch while the rest of the crew were in town, and every so often he stepped out onto the deck to check the harbor. The Sunny was moored among a dozen other vessels, their lights reflected in the dark water. Music drifted over from the waterfront, accompanied by the occasional shout from sailors making their way along the docks.

Inside, the galley was warm from the ovens and smelled of butter, sugar, and vanilla. Sanji used the time to have a minor bout of panic over his feelings and his realization, and baked more miniature lemon cakes than Chopper could eat in one sitting. He'd glazed them individually, arranged them on cooling racks, and then made another batch because he still hadn't figured out what the hell he was going to do.

His ashtray was overflowing on the counter.

He'd since moved on to chocolate éclairs, and with them came the acceptance that he was well, royally, and truly screwed. Sorry, ladies and some gentlemen, but he was in love with a clump of sentient moss.

Sanji piped another line of choux pastry onto a baking sheet and considered the situation. He couldn't just tell Zoro that. Or he probably could, because Zoro was straightforward and wouldn't mind that kind of approach.

But Sanji didn't want to spring it on him like that. What Sanji wanted to do was romance the socks off Zoro. Show him that yes, someone actually did want him in that way. Not just for something casual.

By the time the éclairs were cooling, he'd begun a series of less-sweet tea cakes, measuring ingredients while sorting through and rejecting ideas.

A fancy restaurant? Zoro wouldn’t really care about the food. A gift? There were only so many things Zoro wanted, and Sanji wasn't about to attempt buying him a sword. A day together somewhere pleasant, though, with good food and a chance to talk… That had possibilities. He stirred the batter, considering a few places mentioned in the guide he'd picked up earlier. He was glad he knew Zoro so well already, knew his likes and dislikes. Sanji just needed to make sure to sprinkle in the romance Zoro deserved.

Of course, this could all be for nothing. Zoro could want to be nothing but friends.

Sanji locked that thought down tight, though, or he'd spiral off into all the ways this could go wrong. Zoro had given him no reason to think he'd react cruelly, even if he didn't return Sanji's feelings. Their friendship was important to both of them, and Sanji intended to approach this properly.

He resumed stirring, then reached for the prepared cake tins.

As Zoro had said in the beginning, he wouldn't know unless he tried.

Zoro didn't come back until nearly four in the morning, wearing that loose-limbed walk and a small, pleased smile that Sanji knew how to interpret. Jealousy bit at Sanji, but he couldn't begrudge Zoro having a good time. He'd certainly enjoyed plenty of evenings himself over the past few months, and there was no reason Zoro shouldn't have the same opportunity.

Besides, Sanji had something else on his mind now. His shift on watch ended at four in the morning. He stayed up long enough to make breakfast to leave out for whoever wanted some – pastries, fruit, cereal – though he knew most would eat in town. The galley was still warm from his overnight baking, and he'd spent the last hour washing equipment and finding storage space for everything he'd made.

He tucked himself into bed shortly after Zoro came back and went up to the bathroom. He drifted off to sleep almost immediately.

When he woke again, it was almost noon. Sunlight filtered through the bunk room's small windows, illuminating the rumpled blankets and the clothing a few of the others had left hanging near their bunks. He was alone, though he could see that Zoro had been there and gone by the state of his bedding.

Sanji got up, gathered his clothing, and headed up to the bathroom. The ship was relatively peaceful, with most of the crew either ashore or occupied with their own activities. He could hear the rhythmic sound of Zoro's weights shifting, drifting down from the open windows of the crow's nest.

He nodded at Jinbe, who'd taken over watch from him. Usopp would be relieving Jinbe soon.

Sanji bathed, shaved, trimmed his goatee, and dressed. After dropping his nightclothes back in his locker and collecting his cuffs and lighter, he headed to the galley to put together bentos for lunch – one for Jinbe, who nodded when asked, one for Usopp, and one for Zoro.

Sanji had come up with what he wanted to do over the stretch of his night watch. They'd be at the island for another day, leaving the next morning, giving him plenty of time for what he had planned. Zoro hadn't pulled watch, so he was free for the rest of the day.

The lunches for Jinbe and Usopp were straightforward, packed with rice, grilled fish, vegetables, and a few pieces of fruit. He set those aside with their names attached, then turned his attention to Zoro's. He'd decided to put a little more effort into that one. 

Sanji prepared a generous portion of rice and assembled several small ingredients he'd selected for their color and texture. He worked carefully with his knife, cutting vegetables into narrow strips and shaping pieces of fish, then arranged everything inside the lacquered bento box. It took longer than he'd anticipated, particularly when he had to redo part of the design, but he was satisfied with the result.

Zoro would probably laugh at it. Sanji found himself smiling at the thought.

He finished the bentos and left Jinbe's and Usopp's in the galley. He packed Zoro's in a shoulder bag alongside his own lunch, a folded cloth, two small towels, and a bottle of good sake he'd been saving. He left the bag near the gangplank, then climbed the rigging toward the crow's nest.

He could hear Zoro exercising before he reached the top. The familiar sounds of shifting metal and controlled breathing came through the open windows, along with the occasional thump of the enormous weights being adjusted.

Sanji climbed through the hatch. Zoro was doing squats with a heavy barbell balanced across his shoulders. He straightened from the latest repetition, then paused when he noticed Sanji. A smile spread across his face. "Hey, you wouldn't believe the night I had."

Sanji cut him off before jealousy took the reins. "How much longer are you gonna be?"

Zoro looked genuinely surprised, then shrugged with the weights on his shoulders. "Another half hour or so."

Sanji nodded. "When you're done, take a shower and meet me on deck."

Zoro's smile returned. "Sure." 

Sanji should have realized sooner, considering how seeing that smile affected him. He'd spent months enjoying Zoro's company without considering why it pleased him so much whenever Zoro looked particularly happy to see him. "I'll meet you on deck, then."

Sanji descended and collected a few more things he wanted in the bag. He checked his appearance again in the mirror above the sink in the men's quarters. He wore a dark blue button-down shirt, loose at the tails, with a pair of tan trousers. It was a little casual, but it worked for what he had planned. He adjusted his cuffs, smoothed the front of his shirt, and decided he looked presentable.

He was smoking on deck when Zoro eventually joined him, still damp around the ears. He wore his usual long coat and haramaki sash tied around his waist, with his swords secured at his side. His hair was still slightly wet from his shower, and he'd apparently made an effort to comb it, although the results were questionable.

He smiled again, easy and relaxed. "Where are we off to?"

"One of the vendors yesterday morning mentioned a trail outside the city that leads to a place called Seven Falls. Thought we could check it out."

Zoro nodded. "Sounds good."

Sanji shouldered the bag and led the way down the gangplank.

They fell into step, walking from the docks into the city, Sanji correcting Zoro whenever he started to veer off. The streets were busy with midday traffic. Merchants were setting out goods beneath awnings, delivery carts rattled over the paving stones, and the restaurants along the main avenues had begun preparing for their lunch customers.

Sanji had paid attention to the route during his supply run, so getting them through the city to the edge of town presented little difficulty. He knew which street the trail started from, and a wooden sign beside a stone footbridge confirmed they were heading in the right direction.

Beyond the last houses, the road narrowed into a gravel path winding toward the hills. The landscape opened up around them as they climbed. Low shrubs and scattered trees grew among pale granite outcroppings, with patches of grass and wildflowers occupying the gentler slopes. The hills were green in places, particularly where water collected, but the higher ground was mostly rocky, with plenty of exposed stone between the vegetation.

The trail followed a shallow valley, ascending gradually alongside a stream. The water ran over smooth stones and gathered in small pools beneath overhanging branches. A few trees grew close to the banks, their roots exposed where the current had worn away the soil. Farther uphill, the slopes rose steeply on either side, interrupted by shelves of weathered rock.

It was pleasant hiking weather. The sun was warm without being oppressive, and a light breeze moved through the canyon. Sanji had rolled up his sleeves before they'd gone very far, while Zoro seemed perfectly comfortable in his open coat.

They walked in silence most of the way, simply enjoying the surroundings. Sanji occasionally stopped to examine an unfamiliar herb growing beside the trail or admire the view across the valley. Zoro appeared content to follow his lead, although Sanji still had to redirect him when the path divided around clusters of boulders.

As they climbed, the terrain became more rugged. The trail crossed the stream at a shallow section where several broad stones provided a route to the opposite bank. Sanji stepped from one to another, then turned to watch Zoro cross. Zoro made it without difficulty, though he chose a different set of rocks for reasons Sanji couldn't fathom.

"You're supposed to follow the trail, marimo."

"I got across, didn't I?"

"Miracle of the century."

Zoro snorted and continued after him.

Farther along, the path began a series of switchbacks up the side of the canyon. Loose gravel shifted beneath their shoes in places, and several sections required them to step over exposed roots or climb short stretches of uneven stone. The vegetation grew sparser at the higher elevations, leaving broader views of the surrounding ridges and the stream winding through the valley below.

At one point, Zoro brought up the good time he'd had the night before again. "Guy was pretty nice," he said as they walked. "Had a place near the harbor."

Sanji kept his attention on the trail. "Sounds like you enjoyed yourself."

"Yeah. It was a good night."

Zoro didn't go into detail, for which Sanji was grateful. He couldn't begrudge Zoro having found someone for the evening, even if it made him jealous. He made a noncommittal sound, then asked whether there was anywhere in particular Zoro was interested in trying the food in town, already knowing the answer.

"Don't care," Zoro said. "Wherever you think is good is fine by me."

Sanji smiled around his cigarette. "You're hopeless."

"You're the cook."

"And you're lucky I have excellent taste."

"Hn."

They continued uphill, their conversation tapering off again as the trail grew steeper.

The sound of running water became louder as they approached the upper reaches of the canyon. At first it was difficult to distinguish from the stream they'd been following, but as they rounded another bend, Sanji began to hear the fuller rush of water falling from a height.

It was well into the afternoon by the time the trail curved around a ridge and opened up into Seven Falls. The canyon widened into a broad natural basin surrounded by high granite cliffs. Water descended from an opening near the upper rim, spilling over a succession of rocky ledges into pools at different elevations. Some falls were narrow streams sliding down smooth stone, while others dropped several feet into deeper basins, sending spray across the surrounding rocks.

The pools varied in size and depth, connected by short cascades that eventually fed the stream running back down the canyon. Their water was clear enough to reveal the pale stones beneath the surface, with darker patches indicating deeper sections. Ferns and low shrubs grew wherever moisture collected in cracks, and small trees occupied the sheltered areas near the base of the cliffs.

Sunlight reached much of the basin, illuminating the falling water and the wet stone around the pools. The surrounding cliffs provided some shade, particularly near the higher falls, and the air was cooler here than it had been along the lower trail.

There was nobody else around.

Sanji stopped for a moment to appreciate the view. He'd expected something pretty based on the vendor's description, but the place was even better than he'd imagined.

Zoro's face brightened immediately. "This is great."

He went to the edge of one of the lower pools and crouched, dipping his fingers into the water. "Water's cold."

"Comes down from higher up in the mountains," Sanji said. "Probably doesn't get much chance to warm up."

Zoro splashed a little water over his hand, then stood and looked toward the upper falls.

Sanji found a broad, flat rock near one of the pools, far enough from the spray to keep their lunch dry. He set the bag down and unpacked the bentos and the sake. "Here, marimo. Late lunch."

Zoro withdrew his katanas from his side and set them down on the rock. Then he folded himself into a sitting position, accepted the bento, and opened it. A loud laugh echoed around the canyon. "What the hell is this?"

"Thought I'd try something special," Sanji said. He opened his own plain bento and pulled the chopsticks from the holder at the top of the box. "Hope you like it."

Zoro's grin was wide and bright. "Is it supposed to be us?"

He lifted the bento and half-turned it so Sanji could see, as if Sanji hadn't been the one who'd made it himself.

On a bed of white rice, Sanji had created a little scene depicting the two of them fighting. The figures were made primarily from seasoned rice and small pieces of grilled fish, with their faces shaped from compact portions of rice and narrow strips of nori for their eyes and mouths. Zoro's spiky green hair had been fashioned from finely chopped blanched spinach, while his dark coat was made from folded sheets of nori. Thin strips of pickled daikon represented his haramaki, and three narrow lengths of lightly grilled burdock root, trimmed to resemble sword blades, extended from his hands and mouth.

Sanji's figure wore a black suit cut from nori, with a white rice shirt beneath it. His blond hair was made from fine strands of cooked egg, and a curved piece of nori formed his eyebrow. One leg was extended in a dramatic kick toward Zoro's swords, the foot fashioned from a tiny piece of seasoned mushroom.

Around them, Sanji had arranged broccoli florets and slices of cucumber to suggest the battlefield, with small pieces of pickled carrot and radish adding color. The details had been fiddly as hell to assemble, particularly getting the figures to stay in place while he packed the box. But judging by Zoro's reaction, the effort had been worth it.

"I figured you wouldn't be so big on hearts or flowers that I might create out of food," Sanji said.

Zoro grinned at him some more, then withdrew his chopsticks and clacked them together rather rudely, but with good humor. "I'm gonna eat you first. See how you taste."

Sanji felt his neck warm slightly, now that he was thinking about Zoro in a more amorous way. "You know I always bathe," he said tongue-in-cheek, keeping it light even though his heart was beating a little quicker.

Zoro laughed again. "True. You spend more time in the bathroom sometimes than the girls combined."

Sanji dug into his less artistic sushi rolls. "Why do you think I always look this good?"

"Hn. True." Zoro absently scratched his bare chest between the plackets of his coat. "You ever end up letting someone eat you out?"

Sanji managed not to choke on his bite of food at the blunt question. "Don't kiss and tell, remember?"

"You're no fun." Zoro ate some of his bento, carefully removing one of the burdock swords before picking at the rest of his miniature figure. Sanji watched him for a moment, amused by how thoroughly he'd taken to dismantling their edible fight.

"You gonna try and pick someone up tonight?" Zoro asked.

The opening was right there. All Sanji had to do was take it.

He lowered his chopsticks and glanced toward the waterfalls. They'd spent the past several hours together, hiking through the hills, talking about ordinary things, and enjoying each other's company. The afternoon had gone exactly as he'd hoped.

Now he needed to find out whether Zoro might want something more.

He could feel his nerves flutter, his heart speeding up just a little bit. Part of him wanted to forget about it and stay friends, because he knew where he stood right now. Everything could become awkward between them, and he'd lose even this if he said something.

But if he didn't say something, he'd never know. And he didn't want to spend his time pining for something. He'd rather rip the bandage off and deal with the fallout. He'd suffered enough with the ghosts hanging over his head from the Vinsmokes all those years. Now he'd finally, finally fully accepted himself, and he loved himself enough not to suffer needlessly.

Sanji set his bento down beside him. "Actually..." he started, then had to clear his throat. "Actually, I was thinking about trying to pick up you."

Zoro stopped, chopsticks holding what looked like Sanji's shoe partway to his lips, his eye shooting toward Sanji.

Sanji could hear his heart pounding in his ears from nerves, but he held Zoro's gaze, his chin tilted just a little in challenge.

Zoro slowly lowered the chopsticks so the food wouldn't fall. "You serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious. This isn't something I would joke about, dumbass."

Zoro studied him for a moment, apparently trying to determine what Sanji was proposing. "You want to have sex with me?"

The fact that Zoro presumed it was just about sex reminded Sanji of how much this man deserved so much more.

"No," Sanji said, looking him dead in the eye. "I want to romance your socks off."

Zoro stared at Sanji for a long, still moment. His mouth parted slightly, but he seemed to have trouble finding anything to say. Then twin blooms of pink appeared on his cheeks and spread to the tips of his ears. He ducked his chin, eyelashes lowering. "Wouldn't mind that," he murmured, voice gruff.

For a moment, Sanji could only stare at him. He'd spent hours imagining how this conversation might go, running through possible reactions and trying to prepare himself for Zoro's response. He'd even considered how to salvage the afternoon if Zoro turned him down.

Apparently, he hadn't spent nearly enough time considering the possibility that Zoro might say yes.

Elation hit Sanji with the satisfaction of finally producing a flawless croquembouche, every delicate profiterole assembled perfectly and the caramel holding exactly as it should. The smile that crossed his face hurt his cheeks.

"How about we start with me taking you to a beautiful place, making you a specialty bento, and..." He reached into the bag and pulled out the sake. "...bringing a bottle of the good stuff that I've been hiding from you."

Zoro's cheeks were still rosy, but he reached for the bottle and snatched it out of Sanji's hand. "Now you're talking, cook." He uncorked it, took a deep guzzle, and smacked his lips. "This is good."

"It's meant to be shared," Sanji said.

For a second, Zoro looked as though he was pouting. "Fine. But only because you're not making us use cups."

"Seas forbid that we act civilized."

Zoro grinned, quick and crooked, then tipped back another gulp of sake before setting it on the rock. He went back to his bento, continuing to eat the Sanji side. He glanced at Sanji from beneath his lashes, then lightly pinked again.

Sanji went back to his own bento, looking forward to the rest of the afternoon.

It was too cold for a swim, but Zoro shed his boots and rolled up his trousers, then waded into one of the lower pools. The water reached halfway up his calves, clear enough that Sanji could see the smooth stones beneath his feet. Zoro picked his way toward a deeper section, testing the footing before taking another step.

Sanji smoked on a rocky patch beside the pools, his shoes stretched out in front of him and the empty bento boxes packed away in his bag. The waterfalls filled the area with a constant rush of sound, louder whenever the breeze carried the spray toward him. Sunlight reached across the basin at an angle now, leaving portions of the cliffs in shade while the lower pools remained pleasantly warm along their edges.

They'd fallen into easy conversation as they'd eaten, not about guys this time, but about the crew, about what the next island might look like, about a new training technique Zoro wanted to try, and Sanji suggesting how he could feed Zoro to help him attain his goal. Normal things.

All the while, Zoro kept shooting Sanji sidelong looks with those pinkened cheeks, and Sanji knew what hovered beneath their words, a pleasant anticipation that had been building since Zoro accepted his offer.

Even now, standing ankle-deep in the water, Zoro occasionally glanced over his shoulder at him. Whenever Sanji caught him at it, Zoro would smile and look away, apparently finding something interesting about the rocks beneath his feet. Sanji found it ridiculously endearing.

He hadn't been lying when he said he was going to romance Zoro, that this wasn't about sex. But that didn't mean Sanji didn't want him in that way. Quite the opposite, in fact. He'd been thinking about kissing Zoro since they'd finished lunch, and watching him standing there with his coat hanging open and the afternoon sunlight falling across his face wasn't helping.

Sanji realized he didn't have to rush. One thing didn't preclude the other. He could take Zoro out, make him special meals, and find little ways to show him how much he cared. He could also kiss him when the opportunity presented itself.

And Zoro was currently standing in a pool of mountain water, darting glances at Sanji like a blushing maiden.

Sanji had no intention of ignoring that.

He stubbed out his cigarette against a nearby stone, made sure the ember was extinguished, and tucked the butt into his portable ashtray. Then he toed off his shoes, pulled off his socks, and rolled his trouser legs up above his calves.

The rock was comfortably warm beneath his bare feet as he approached the pool.

The water was another matter entirely.

"Fuck! That's cold!"

Zoro laughed, light and open. "Wuss."

Sanji fought the urge to kick him because that would only get him wetter with cold water. Part of him would've done it anyway due to the slight, but present-day Sanji had enough self-love not to be an idiot. Plus, he had a different goal in mind.

He waded over to Zoro, picking his way across the uneven bottom. The water reached just below his knees near the middle of the pool, and he could feel the current moving around his legs as it drained into the next basin.

Zoro watched him approach, his grin gradually giving way to a curious smile.

Sanji moved right into his space, unhesitating. They were close enough now that their chests nearly touched. Being the same height, Sanji could look Zoro directly in the eye, and he liked the sight of those faintly pink cheeks at such close range.

He lifted a hand to Zoro's shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the open collar. "This was inevitable, wasn't it?"

"What's that?" Zoro asked.

"Falling for you."

Zoro's breath hitched.

Sanji reached up, curved his hand behind Zoro's neck, and gently guided him closer. Zoro came willingly, his eye lowering to Sanji's mouth before closing as their lips met.

The first touch brought a feeling of rightness and a jump in Sanji's pulse.

He'd wondered what kissing Zoro would be like, but the reality was considerably better than anything he'd imagined. Zoro's lips were warm, slightly chapped, and hesitant for only a moment before he began kissing back. His hands came up to frame Sanji's face, palms resting against his cheeks and fingers curving along his jaw.

Sanji tilted his head, and Zoro followed the movement, drawing him closer. Their mouths moved together beneath the sunlight glinting off the mist, the steady roar of the waterfalls around them.

Zoro made a pleased little sound against his lips.

Sanji smiled into the kiss and slid his free arm around Zoro's waist. Zoro's thumb brushed along Sanji's cheek, and when they briefly parted for breath, he leaned forward again before Sanji could say anything. Sanji was more than happy to oblige.

They kissed again, slower this time, with Sanji's fingers resting against the short hair at the back of Zoro's neck. He could feel Zoro smiling, and that made him smile more, too.

Unfortunately, neither of them had remembered that they were standing in cold mountain water.

A violent shiver ran through Sanji, interrupting his enjoyment rather abruptly. His calves had begun to ache from the temperature, and his toes were losing feeling. He pulled back reluctantly, his forehead briefly resting against Zoro's. "My nuts are starting to crawl up inside me," he murmured.

Zoro's face was flushed, and he looked startled for a moment before his laughter echoed against the waterfalls. "Yeah, same."

Sanji laughed with him, then reluctantly stepped away. They waded back toward the rocks, both moving rather quickly once they'd agreed to get out.

The stone along the pool's edge was warm beneath Sanji's feet, and he stood there for a moment, letting the sun reach his damp legs. Zoro sat on a low ledge beside him and began rubbing his feet between his hands.

Sanji retrieved one of the small towels he'd brought for cleaning up after their food. He tossed it to Zoro, then took the other for himself. They dried their feet and legs before pulling their socks and shoes back on, Zoro muttering about the temperature of the water while Sanji reminded him that he'd been the idiot who decided to wade in first.

"Didn't hear you complaining a minute ago," Zoro replied.

"I was distracted."

"Yeah?"

"Don't get smug about it."

Zoro grinned.

Sanji gathered the damp towels and folded them into the bag, but he was reluctant to leave. They still had a little daylight left, and the basin was too pleasant to abandon just yet. He sat down on a broad, flat rock beside Zoro, stretching his legs out and resting his hands behind him.

Zoro apparently felt the same way, because he smiled, scooted closer, and reached for Sanji again. Sanji turned toward him. This time, Zoro initiated the kiss, one hand resting against the side of Sanji's neck while the other settled on his waist. Sanji happily returned it, sliding an arm around Zoro's shoulders and drawing him nearer.

The rock was broad enough for both of them to lie comfortably, its surface worn smooth by years of water and weather. They settled onto it together, Sanji on his side facing Zoro, Zoro’s discarded coat providing a little padding beneath them.

They made out there for a while, enjoying the opportunity to kiss without interruption. Sanji remembered Zoro saying he liked kissing for its own sake, and Zoro was proving it now. Zoro was an enthusiastic partner, sometimes smiling against Sanji's mouth or pausing to look at him before leaning in again. Sanji discovered he rather liked having those strong hands on him, particularly when Zoro threaded his fingers through Sanji's hair and drew him closer.

There was passion in their kisses and touches, but neither seemed inclined to take things any further. Sanji was perfectly content to lie there with Zoro, occasionally breaking away to exchange a few words or laugh at something stupid before kissing again.

At one point, Zoro shifted closer and tucked his face against Sanji's neck. Sanji rested a hand on the back of his head, running his fingers through the short green hair while they enjoyed a few minutes of rest. He'd wanted to give Zoro a romantic afternoon, and judging by the contented expression on his face whenever he looked up, Sanji thought he'd succeeded. 

Eventually, the sun began to sink farther in the sky, and the shadows from the cliffs spread across the lower pools. The air was growing cooler, too, and Sanji knew they needed to head back before it got dark.

He reluctantly sat up, brushing a few grains of sand from his shirt. "We should get moving."

"Hn. Guess so."

Zoro didn't seem particularly enthusiastic about leaving, but he sat up beside Sanji and reached for his coat. Sanji straightened his own clothing, collected the towels, and checked that they hadn't left anything behind.

Sanji shouldered the bag, and Zoro slid his swords back into the sash at his side. Together, they began the hike back down toward the city.

The descent was easier than the climb, although the loose gravel along the switchbacks required some care. They crossed the stream again, then followed the winding path through the lower hills as the evening light softened around them.

Zoro walked beside Sanji, close enough that their hands occasionally brushed. After the third or fourth time, Sanji caught his hand and laced their fingers together.

Zoro glanced at him, then down at their joined hands. A smile spread across his face, and he gave Sanji's hand a small squeeze.

By the time they reached the outskirts of the city, the streetlamps had been lit and the shops were beginning to close. Restaurants and taverns were preparing for their evening customers, and the streets grew busier as they approached the waterfront.

Sanji was already considering where he might take Zoro that night. He wanted somewhere with excellent food and a good selection of sake, preferably with a little privacy. He'd noticed a few promising establishments during his supply run and could make inquiries once they'd returned to the ship.

The sun had set by the time they arrived at the Sunny. Usopp was still on watch until eight, and he waved to them from the deck as they came up the gangplank.

Sanji returned the greeting, then turned toward Zoro. "Would you like to go on an official date with me tonight?"

"Yeah." Zoro smiled, and this one was a little bashful. "I'd really like that."

Sanji felt his own smile widen. He'd been looking forward to asking, and hearing Zoro accept so readily made the evening ahead even more appealing. "I expect you to wear a shirt."

"Tch. Already getting demanding." 

But his smile remained as he wandered off toward the men's quarters.

Sanji watched him go for a moment, enjoying the sight of Zoro's relaxed posture and the faint pink still lingering around his ears. Then he headed up into the galley to clean the bento boxes and chopsticks and recycle the empty sake bottle. The galley was unoccupied, and the last of the evening light reached through the windows above the counters. Sanji set the bag beside the sink, rinsed the utensils, and arranged everything on the drying rack.

He caught a glimpse of his slightly blurry reflection in the refrigerator door and saw a smile stretching across his face. Even without a clear picture, he could see he was happy.

He had a date tonight. With Zoro, of all people. Zoro, who'd become one of his closest friends over the past few months, who'd encouraged him to explore a part of himself he'd spent years refusing to acknowledge, and who'd apparently been quite pleased to discover Sanji wanted to romance him.

And Sanji had a gay sex party to thank for it.

Sanji chuckled softly and shook his head. It was something he never would've imagined thinking in his life. He'd gone looking for a marimo in distress and found dick-filled debauchery instead. 

Who would've thought it'd be the start of something so good?

End