"You're beautiful, cook." Zoro would tell him.
Mostly when he was walking past and caught Sanji in the bathroom again, right in front of the mirror inspecting 'the damage'. That usually consisted of searching for the arrival of slight gray coming in at his roots, or the small creases that appeared around his eyes when he smiled. He glared, flustered through the mirror's reflection at his lovers youthful face.
"Shut up, asshole." He'd glare, before moving to his array of bathroom products. "You don't get to say that."
It always made Zoro feel a tinge of guilt, the way his opinion of him got tossed aside, but he understood. Perhaps if their situation had been switched he'd to be a little bitter- but he'd only hope then that he'd understand the frustrations of both sides.
Zoro couldn't age past this, what appeared to be a young spruce age of maybe 20, against his will for reasons he didn't know. It was like one day, his body just permanently stopped here, favoring that stage of his life most.
But he hated it more than anything, it was deceiving. It made Sanji, the most important person of his life, upset (though he was too stubborn to admit it). Whether or not he still believed it, Zoro's desires had never changed. He'd wanted to grow old with Sanji, to experience life with him. Granted he still was, but he felt behind even so.
His eyes were old though, having seen on many occasions as time passed, when it just got too rough. The Marimo didn't like to think about it, the further away future when their age difference would be much more monumental, but Sanji thought about it every day.
The moment he wouldn't be able to keep up, or god forbid their interactions looked like charity work, a young Zoro helping him across the street as his body began to break down and die. Sanji loved Zoro contently, he was forever happy by his side, even in holy matrimony. But sometimes it was just hard.
Especially the more time that went by with them together. At first he honestly didn't mind it, appearance wise. He and Zoro were always together and no stranger to the love making. To other people, after a while, it just appeared that Sanji had some serious game to be catching them young, which also wasn't too bad - made him seem like the older and wiser one, which he'd tease, since officially Zoro was a few years older than him. It got hard though, when he entered the late thirties and early forties. When even if they didn't look like, they were mistaken for father and son, or son in law. Or the fact that Sanji's youthful appearance, as he had good genes that didn't shift too much, began to falter.
He didn't know his real parents or family, but he cursed them for going grey so easily. He didn't want to say anything, nor did he feel he had to, since Zoro probably saw the convenience store boxes of hair dye in the trash once or twice, though he never said anything. Except of course, the usual reassurance of 'you're beautiful' or 'you're perfect'.
At some point, Sanji just came to terms that Zoro must've randomly been selected to live forever. Though at least he got to be his first right? The one to know him from childhood, love him and be his first marriage. Since it didn't and wouldn't surprise him if he moved on after Sanji became dust and bones. Hell, as he smoked on all his cigarettes more furiously these days, it wouldn't surprise him if he'd rather just go now and start again. From how normal he was treating the abnormality, it wouldn't surprise him if there was some other bastard out there not aging and waiting to spend eternity with him.
But even if aging wasn't a concern of the Marimo's, it was one of Sanji's. So instead of really celebrating the Eve of his next birthday he spent it preparing.
And that's how Zoro found him, sitting on the floor of the living room, turned towards the coffee table working on some papers. Judging from the glass and nearly half empty bottle of wine, he just knew something was off here. Tonight wasn't one of the better ones.
Zoro ignored Sanji's halfhearted greeting as he put his bag and coat to the side, strolling over with his hands lazily in his pockets, kicking off his shoes as he went. He gazed down at the paper work a bit hesitantly. He braced himself to keep composure as he saw Sanji sneak a glance at him, seeing the way his tank top clung to him, flattering his fit exterior before turning back down to the papers with a pit of jealousy in his stomach.
"What are you working on?" Zoro instead asked him curiously, hoping it would lead to the more interesting subject at hand.
Sanji paused a moment, reaching for his wine glass for a nervous sip before placing it down and wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand without a care. So much proof something was off.
"I'm," he started off, his eyes scanning over the pages and he tried to find the motivation to say the words. "Writing out my will."
"What? Why?" Zoro furrowed his brows concernedly. "You're only-"
He halted his next sentence though. It didn't matter what age he said Sanji only was, it would always be older to him. The cook would always worry and be conscious about it and find a legit reason to go ahead and start planning for the end. Throw it in his face that not everyone gets to be around forever. Zoro turned his head to the side and glared down at the paper work.
"I thought we agreed we'd make our wills together." Zoro explain, crouching down and picking up on of the papers to scan over it.
Sanji snapped it back quick however, clenching his teeth. "You have all the time in the world to make your shitty will. Some of us don't have a lot of time left."
His words jabbed at Zoro in ways he'd never realize. "You don't think I know that...?" He muttered under his breath. He'd never asked for this. "We don't have a lot of time left."
Sanji's face softened and he pursed his lips, sensing the feeling behind Zoro's words. They'd always been alike and even now they were opposites. Here Sanji was like a real old man, envying the youth of his lover while he desired to be at the same level with him. But they were also the same. Sanji worried and mourned the time after his death he would never get to spend with Zoro and Zoro feared it, he didn't want to outlive the love of his life for fucking eternity.
"Sanji… I…"
"Why do you have to say it like that, Marimo? You have an extraordinary gift to live forever, I'm…" Sanji paused, swallowing thickly. "Just one of many loves you'll get to experience."
Zoro's body tensed and his eyes snapped over to the blond. How could he say something so rash? Before he knew it, there was a fire boiling his blood that had him tackling Sanji back against the floor, scowling down at him.
"Oi! The fuck, you trying to break my hip or some shit?" Sanji spat in retaliation, trying to pull himself free, but it was of no use, Zoro had him pinned, glaring into his eyes.
"Don't say that."
"Shut up, you aren't even old yet." The pain on his features were evident, guilt growing in Sanji's abdomen at the sight. Never before had he done something to invoke that response… "And don't ever fucking say that."
Sanji averted his eyes. "What? It's true asshole. If you're living forever, I'm just gonna be the first husband of probably many, right? You probably have some other immortal fuck buddy out there just waiting to be united."
"Shut up cook! I mean it!" His words silenced him. "That's not going to happen, stop thinking about it… I don't care who the fuck they are, they wouldn't be you."
Sanji had half the nerve to point out that maybe that was the point, but he resisted it. He only lowered his eyes. Maybe he had crossed a line? It was getting easier to do, the more the situation grew and he got older. He wasn't able to feel guilty too long though, a hand reaching to guide his face up. Zoro pressed his lips into his, cautiously because Sanji was a bit of a wild wire, before pulling away and scanning his face.
"You're gonna make me say it again, aren't you?" He sighed, but not in a bothered or irritated way. "I don't care how old you get, or what you look like - fuck that eyebrow would've been the first deal breaker if I did. You're my husband, everything about you is sexy to me..."
He lowered his face, nuzzling at his neck, nipping at it teasingly with his teeth. His hand began to travel down Sanji's body. He could show him what he meant, couldn't he? He had many times before.
Except, this was the first time that Sanji grabbed his hand and stopped him, staring up at him in a silent plea to stop. It made Zoro's chest fall. What did that mean? Even this wasn't working anymore?
"Zoro please." Sanji turned his face away. "Don't force yourself, it's pathetic."
As if that was really what was pathetic here. Zoro scowled at him, squeezing his hand with a low growl. "For once in your life can you just fucking listen to me? You think that because I'm different, how I feel isn't important? Fuck, Sanji close your eyes."
"What? Why?"
"I'm fucking sick of you seeing me this way. Close your eyes. Or should I do it for you?" Sanji scanned and studied Zoro's face, but he decided to comply, for now. He felt stupid for doing so though.
"Why am I doing this Marimo?"
Zoro took a deep breath.
"Imagine that..." He began, trying to find the words, because he realized how stupid this sounded. "I wasn't still like this... That I got older with you… Imagine me that way." It was a little of a reversed situation, as more than once he'd been asked by the cook to remember him as he used to be.
Sanji pressed his lips together. Yeah, he'd definitely gone too far if now he was making Zoro uncomfortable in his own skin. Still, he couldn't help to at least give his curiosity a taste and imagine it anyway. A normal aging Zoro that would spend the rest of his life with him until they both were older than dirt.
At first, his imagination had Zoro too old, stereotypically old with a walker or a cane or some shit, but he pulled it back to what it'd really be, middle aged man like himself, just a few years older. He looked mostly the same, kind of like Sanji did, but there was evidence of change. He was a little broader, still very fit though however, the guy wouldn't stop working out until he died, probably. Fuck he was a stud, but it was a little bitter sweet cause even if he could imagine it, he'd never get to see it with his own eyes.
"Tell me about it." Zoro said softly, under his breath. He'd watched Sanji relax with his eyes closed as he imagined it. He wanted to hear what Sanji really wanted him to be.
Sanji furrowed his brows, sighing because he didn't know why it mattered, but he'd do this if it made Zoro feel better.
"You look the freaking same. But like a real man for once. You might actually be able to handle me then." He teased, a small smile on his lips.
Zoro slowly went back to what he was doing before, tracing down Sanji's frame with his hands and lightly molesting a spot at the cook's neck, humming lightly as he encouraged him to continue.
It was a pleasant feeling that Sanji's eyes opened a bit and he stared up at the ceiling, that picture still in his mind. Slowly he was changing it and imagining that Zoro here, making his precise touches and teases.
"Your hair's still shitty and green. Should've known you wouldn't be a silver fox." He brought his hand up, fingers ruffling the back of Zoro's hair while he was at his neck.
"But then I couldn't call you Marimo anymore, could I? Least you'd still know how to use your fingers."
"Of course, how else would I-"
"Oi, don't even go there. I'm not done let me continue."
"Fine, get on with it."
Sanji was grinning now, pursing his lips. "Not a lot of wrinkles though, so I'd still hate you. You only have ones from looking constipated all the time."
That made Zoro chuckle and he paused, raising his head to look at him. "So we'd be equals then, wouldn't we?" He pointed out.
It made Sanji slightly flush, he didn't fucking have scowl wrinkles or whatever the hell they were, he snapped his chin over to glare at his husband.
"Asshole I do not have-" But then he froze, the words taken from him.
His eyes widened. Had he gone crazy? Was he so desperate that now he was seeing what he wanted?
Zoro's face softened when he saw him, his concern growing slightly. Why was he looking at him like that? Had he gone too far asking him to imagine something different? That seeing the truth hurt him again? Damn, he was the worst at any of this.
Sanji's eyes slightly watered. He looked just like he imagined, but even better, more real. He reached out, much to the Marimo's confusion, and touched his face. He was so handsome, of course he was before too, but something about seeing him this way was just stunning. His smile returned because the image remained.
"Hey old man."
Zoro tilted his head, slightly confused. Was this another joke? "What?"
Sanji slowly started getting up, forcing Zoro to get off him and do the same before pulling him forward by his shirt and holding him tight in his arms.
"Thank you." He whispered into his ear.
Zoro swallowed a little nervously on his confusion before pushing Sanji away and freeing himself.
"For what?" He demanded to know already.
Sanji smirked, getting up to his feet. Where'd he hide the hand mirror again? "For finally growing the hell up!"
Zoro was still confused. Growing up? He hadn't grown up, that was the fucking problem. Still he entertained the thought and looked down at his hands. They weren't really different, perhaps a little more calloused than he was used to. His body felt broader though and for once he felt as strong as he'd trained himself to be. He glanced back up and at Sanji, who had returned, with dorky chuckles at Zoro's bewildered expression and handed him the mirror.
The Marimo took it, eager to see what the fuck he was going on about, only to nearly drop it at what he saw. He took it again and looked closely at himself. His hand moved to his hair, his earrings, as if checking to see if his moved along with those, then felt at his face.
This was really him, and for once he was his real age. No longer was he left behind as Sanji aged forward, they really were equals again in some weird turn of events. Finally they could grow old together and enjoy the rest of their lives.
Quickly he dropped the mirror and got to his feet, pulling Sanji so fast into an embrace. He didn't know if Sanji somehow did it or not, when he finally took a moment to imagine him as he should be or what, but he was ecstatic - probably more than any other person in the world about aging. He nuzzled his face into the curve of his neck.
"Thank you, cook."
Author's Note: Thank you so much to Torchi-chan for betaing this for me! And to Nerisel for helping me think of a title cause I'm bad at them! You two are the bomb ./o/ Hope everyone enjoys!
Story was based on the prompt:
Imagine person A of your OTP growing old and person B staying young forever.