Here's To Us
…
In which sharing a drink can tear down walls in a way that Sanji and Zoro never expected.
Zoro/Sanji slow burn.
...
TW: Mentions of ptsd, panic attacks.
... ...
i.
... ...
It was just a drink.
It didn't mean anything. Or... it wasn't supposed to.
It was just a little white wine in a cup that wasn't meant to even hold wine.
It wasn't fancy. It wasn't planned. It was spur of the moment. It was Sanji just asking for the opinion on the flavour. It was just a stupid bit of cheap white wine poured in a damn coffee mug. And it was given to Zoro. Zoro of all people.
The swordsman was just there.
Sitting at the table after helping Sanji do the dishes. He looked like he had something on his mind. He was studying the wood grain of the dining table so thoughtfully. Sanji slid the mug towards him without even thinking about it. He started talking in sentences to the swordsman as if it were natural. As if they were buddies. Like how Sanji would talk to Usopp. But this was Zoro... and Sanji and Zoro didn't talk like friends. They fought like big cats. Lions. Tigers, possibly. They jabbed at each other. They used claws and double sided comments. Teasing or bickering or letting off steam, but never confiding.
So this was weird.
And when Zoro tilted his mug against Sanji's glass, and gave him a nod, it was cordial, and so fucking weird.
"What's buggin' you?"
Zoro shrugged. For a time Sanji thought he wouldn't answer. But on his fourth sip of wine, Zoro's mouth opened and didn't stop for a moment. And Sanji heard words. He heard explanations.
It was abstract, in a way. Zoro trying to describe something that Sanji couldn't see. Something that isn't really meant to be put into words. Or maybe it was just Zoro's fault, because the other man was clearly not very eloquent, and he didn't have experience talking about feelings. Sanji wondered if he had any experience in that subject ever, because Zoro had just made a sort of sound liken to a mix between a growling ogre and a dying mule to describe the thoughts inside his head.
Sanji wasn't sure if he could relate.
"What do you need?" Sanji asked. Why did he ask?
"Not sure."
"When you figure it out, I'll be here."
Zoro took another sip of the wine and grunted.
"I don't like it." He said, staring into his mug.
Sanji glanced at him, not entirely sure if Zoro was actually talking about the wine or not. "Is a bit sour." He agreed, crinkling his nose. "It's a cheap wine."
Zoro finished off his drink, and slid the empty glass back to Sanji. He shook his head. "Wine's fine. Night, Cook."
... ...
ii.
... ...
The next drink Zoro had asked for himself.
Green tea.
Just after breakfast.
Sanji was still cleaning the pan from the scrambled eggs, but he paused in his scrubbing to put the kettle on. Paused... for Zoro... because the other man asked for a damn tea. And he asked so fucking politely. And there was a weird mood in the kitchen, not exactly a tension, or at least not a bad one.
Normally the other would have been told to wait. Wait until Sanji found a convenient moment to want to make a cup of tea for him. Sometimes it took awhile. But Zoro had this air about him today... the same sullenness he had when Sanji passed him a drink of wine a week ago. Sanji couldn't really explain it. He also couldn't ignore it.
"Honey?" Sanji asked as he poured the steaming water into the tea mug in front of his crewmate.
Zoro shook his head, fingering the chain on the little metal tea ball that held the leaves. His eyes found Sanji's before the blond could turn away. "None for you, Cook?"
Sanji had paused then, and instead of some shitty witty remark about how much work he still had left to get done before he could sit on his ass and drink tea, he answered
with a small shrug, "I'm not finished with lunch prep, yet."
Zoro pursed his lips. "Am I in the way?"
"Always. But what else is new?"
Sanji rolled his eyes with a smirk. He couldn't let that insult pass him by. But when the swordsman didn't retaliate the fun was lost, and Sanji had to bite his tongue.
"Had a weird dream." Zoro offered then.
It was so out of the blue that Sanji stopped drying dishes. "Oh? Want to talk about it?"
"Maybe..."
The cook nodded, and had to bury his surprise in the fridge. He left the skipped beats of his heart next to the eggs and laid the chilled vegetables across the counter top. "Go ahead, I'm listening."
Zoro couldn't talk about it. He stared at Sanji and blew away the steam of his tea softly.
"What was it about..?" Sanji prompted.
"Uh.. dunno."
"I don't believe you."
The silence reigned. Sanji gave Zoro a pointed look.
"Yeah..." Zoro finally trailed quietly. He took a long drink. "Bear guy. Bubbles. Luffy. You..."
Sanji watched him carefully.
"I remember the pain in my dream.. it's not real, I know that, but I feel it all the same."
The cook paused in chopping the carrots, ended up pouring himself a cup of tea, and sat across from Zoro at the long wooden dining table.
"It's over."
"I know."
Sanji gave him another look.
"I know." Zoro repeated hastily.
Sanji took a drink of his hot tea, and gave Zoro a firm answer, "You do know."
The swordsman nodded. He sipped his tea in silence.
"Damn bear."
"Drink your tea, Marimo."
... ...
iii.
... ...
The one after that, Sanji had brought to him. An apology of sorts. It was after a stupid fight. One that left Zoro with blood running into his eyes. Accidentally, of course. The fucker seemed to forget how to dodge an attack for a single fucking second and Sanji's roundhouse kick had landed a blow to Zoro's clavicle and knocked him forcefully backwards into Franky's new barbecue. The sharp metal had sliced Zoro's forehead from the middle all the way to one ear. It bled. A lot. Sanji freaked out. Mildly. And Chopper was pissed off, and so were Nami and Franky...
It was a mess.
Luffy laughed. Entertainment peaked because of all the blood... but when Chopper brought out the needle to suture Zoro's gash, the laughing was abruptly finished.
Zoro didn't deserve that... so Sanji had brought him some coke and rum. And a shot of whiskey. "How's the head?"
"You got me good."
"The grill got you better."
Zoro heaves a sigh that sounds bigger than it should be. "Was distracted. Shouldn't have happened."
"I noticed. You had a far away look in your eyes. What's up?"
"Was just thinking."
Don't hurt yourself. That is the jab on the tip of Sanji's tongue, but that ship has sailed. Zoro really did get hurt. Instead Sanji takes on a less assholeish approach, and asks, "About?"
Zoro shrugs again. "Can't explain it."
"Try."
Zoro drinks his shot of whiskey.
Sanji refills the glass.
Zoro eyes it for a moment before downing the second shot. He buries his head in his hands then, and Sanji waits patiently, staring intently at the mop of moss across from him. His newest battle scar making him look like Frankenstein's monster. Sanji still feels a shitty ball of guilt in his stomach over it; but at least Luffy is absolutely enamoured by it.
When Zoro looks back up, Sanji is shocked to find the other's eyes shining raw with unshed emotion. Questions lodge themselves in Sanji's throat.
This is Zoro.
They don't do this.
They aren't that close, dammit.
"Hey, hey, man, what is it?"
Zoro keeps his mouth tightly shut, and his eyes twinkle harder, transforming into a soft red. The tears hold on for dear life.
Zoro stands from his place at the bar, frowning at Sanji. Before the blond can respond, Zoro has walked from one side of the counter to the other, until he is standing beside where Sanji is seated. The cook looks up at him, brows knit deeply in concern.
Sanji opens his arms automatically and is surprised when Zoro crashes into the bar stool next to him. The swordsman doesn't move into the offered hug, but moves so his shoulder is brushing against Sanji's shoulder. Sanji watches him tuck his chin towards his chest then, neck craning to hide his eyes away, and Sanji sees the tears finally lose their grip and fall. The tips of Zoro's ears flare red, most likely from embarrassment. The Strawhat Cook fights the impulse to touch the other man. They have boundaries. But... This is his crewmate. This is Zoro.
"Tell me what you need. If there's anything I can do." Sanji speaks softly. He has never used that tone with Zoro before. He's felt worry for the swordsman plenty of times, not that he'd say it out loud, but he'd never ever imagined speaking gently to Zoro.
Sanji ends up following his instincts and sets a hand on Zoro's back. Rubbing in calming sea wave patterns. No more tears fall, but he can feel the other shaking under his palm and against his shoulder. Zoro's entire body is trembling. "Hey... it's okay. Let it out."
Zoro sniffs once, deeply, then he shakes his head. Sanji presses his own shot glass into Zoro's hands. Zoro drains it gratefully.
His eyes are still wet when he looks up, nose and forehead a contrasting red against his sea-glass hair. Sanji meets his gaze, trying to think of something to say, but is at a loss. This is new. It is scary. It is not something that Sanji has been prepared for.
Zoro is standing then, standing and he begins pacing like a polar bear in a cage. Snow deprived. "I still feel it sometimes when I close my eyes." The confession comes without warning, and somehow Sanji understands exactly what Zoro's talking about. He keeps himself seated, not wanting to startle the other.
"It's over now."
"I know. But..."
And then Zoro is talking again and it's soft and some parts are too low to make out the words perfectly, and some bits he stumbles with his tongue because he's talking too quickly, but he's talking, he's telling Sanji everything the blond can't fathom. "Sometimes..."
It's then that Zoro trails off, and Sanji can see his lips shaking.
"Tell me."
"I can't."
Can't is a bold word, Sanji decides. "Want to tell Luffy?"
"Never."
Sanji throws his hands up. "Zoro... bottling shit like that up isn't actually a good thing. You need..." Sanji sighs then, because he realizes the swordsman is possibly trying. Trying to work through this near-death experience, that for obvious reasons, is still not sitting very well on his conscience. He just got emotional in front of Sanji, and maybe that should count for something. Maybe.
Zoro's hands are fists at his sides. "I still feel so fucking guilty."
"About what?" Sanji practically guffaws.
"No idea. I don't know. Nothing up here makes sense," Zoro taps his temple, and he is breathing in a way that makes Sanji want to shake him and tell him to snap the hell out of it.
He doesn't. He just pulls Zoro back down to sit in the chair next to him, and pours him another shot of whiskey.
... ...
iiii.
... ...
Sanji can't sleep. Zoro notices the blond tossing and turning in the bed hanging below Luffy's. Sanji is looking at Zoro from across the room, because Zoro is still sitting in the chair by the table, and Zoro can feel the Cook's eyes on him, even in the dark.
"I can't fucking sleep." The Cook is suddenly whisper-growling.
Zoro gives a small grunt, because he's noticed, and the news is moot. Sanji is standing then, and slipping his shoes on. Zoro sees him grab for his jacket. Zoro finds himself slipping on his boots before he is fully aware he's doing it.
Sanji is holding the door open as Zoro follows the cook out of the bunk room and above deck.
"Restless night?"
"I can't stop fucking thinking!" Sanji is growling and he's suddenly lighting a cigarette and kicking the railing. Zoro's eyes grow a little wide and he's realized he's forgotten his swords in the bunk room.
"Hey, if you want to blow off some steam, I'll spar with you, just let me go gr-"
"No." Sanji quips. "I mean I don't. I'm too tired."
Sanji is still growling, and smoking, and he sounds absolutely pissed.
"What do you want me to do about it?" Zoro asks, a little roughly. Sanji is grumpy, and Zoro doesn't particularly feel like dealing with his bad attitude.
"A milkshake." The cook blurts.
"A what?"
"Just meet me in the kitchen."
Sanji stalks into the galley with Zoro a safe distance on his heels.
He gets started right away, throwing milk and bananas into a blender.
Ice and spices and a couple curses later, and Sanji is calmer. The air stops being filled with a tension thicker than Crocodile's quicksand, and there is suddenly a tall glass sitting in front of Zoro, filled to the brim with soft yellow and white swirls.
The swordsman quirks an eyebrow.
"Eat it."
"Uh..."
"Eat it. Before it melts."
Zoro can't bother to question it. He peers at Sanji and takes a spoonful of the blended drink in front of him. He shivers as it slides down his throat.
"You asshole." Sanji jeers.
Zoro blanches, "The hell did I do?"
"You..." Sanji pauses. He doesn't want to sound insane. Doesn't want to say the wrong thing. Doesn't want to admit that thinking about Zoro, of all people, was the reason his thoughts wouldn't shut up. The bastard... just sitting there... eating his shake... being so weird the past few weeks... making Sanji THINK about him. Worry about a bastard like him. Pffft. "Well, you." Ugh.
The words are lost. And suddenly Sanji doesn't know what he wanted to say. He shakes his head, exasperated.
Marimo gives him a weird look. Cook doesn't even have the energy left to feel offended.
Instead, Sanji pulls up a stool. And before he knows it he's sitting next to Zoro, sipping his own milkshake, and telling Zoro about a time when he sliced his finger when he was younger and Zeff was a big dumbass about the whole thing. And then Sanji is laughing quietly because Zoro shrugs and tells Sanji that the old geezer was probably right, and that Sanji was just a snot nosed kid who should listen to his elders. It makes Sanji so pissed off... because he knows Zoro would have acted the same way Sanji did, but at the same time makes his chest feel lighter that Zoro is back to teasing him so openly.
He nudges Zoro's foot with his own under the table.
The swordsman nudges him back. Ankles hitting lightly together.
They both take another bite of their milkshakes. And when Zoro sets his spoon down, his knuckles brush lightly against Sanji's. The cook doesn't move away. Neither does Zoro. Instead Zoro mentions the first time he gets cut with a sword. Sanji listens, he takes it all in. Zoro doesn't give the most detailed account, he doesn't embellish things like Usopp does, he just states the facts. Short and simple. But Sanji hears the memories in his voice. That's how Zoro speaks... and Sanji's beginning to learn that. He kind of likes it. It makes Zoro sound uncomfortably human. That is something Sanji can relate to.
They don't go back to bed that night. When the sun comes up, everyone saunters into the galley for breakfast. Zoro gets an extra pancake, but if anyone notices they don't mention it. He shares a look with the cook, but it ends in a blink as Luffy does something idiotic that warrants Sanji's attention, like trying to ask Robin if she wants to share her portion.
When Luffy turns to eye Zoro's plate instead, Sanji starts kicking.
...
v.
...
Zoro ends up buying Sanji his next drink.
They are docked. The Strawhats gathered in a tavern somewhere. A dark bar beneath the city. Dim blues and greens and purples are the accent lights. It smells of sweat and alcohol and tobacco and it makes Zoro feel disoriented. He doesn't do it on purpose, but he finds himself sticking close to Sanji of all people. If the blond has noticed he isn't saying anything, and if the cook minds at all, he isn't really trying very hard to move away from the swordsman.
The idiot is flirting with two slender women at the bar, causing Zoro to roll his eyes. Sanji is throwing compliments at them so fiercely. He doesn't even know them. It makes Zoro crinkle his nose as he eyes the long wavy silver hair that the cook can't shut up about. What does Sanji see that is so special that Zoro obviously doesn't... it is just hair. Of course.. maybe Sanji has some type of fetish for hair or something. He has mentioned Zoro's on numerous occasions, after all. Not in a positive light, however, but still.
Zoro is forced to redirect his attention when he hears the sound of open laughter. The second lady's shrill giggles. Sanji must have turned his comedic charm all the way up tonight. Zoro casts his eyes back down towards the large mug of beer in front of him. This place is too loud. And way too obnoxious.
And suddenly the obnoxious level is turned up even further when the giggling increases. Zoro rolls his eyes and turns his back slightly on the girls and his crewmate.
The swordsman can't really wrap his head around it. The way Sanji can so openly make himself look like a fool is just beyond him. It isn't really Zoro's area to judge, but it never interests him either. Picking up chicks in a seedy place like this... and for what? A little action?
It seems like way too much effort.
Waste of time.
Zoro takes another long swig of his beer. When his mug hits the bar top, so does a reverberating slap against skin. Zoro freezes, hand finding the hilt of his sword on auto-pilot. He's glancing over his shoulder to see his crewmate standing there with a red cheek and a stunned look on his face. The women are already walking away. The clicks of their too high heels fades rapidly in the other direction, and is soon drown out by sounds of other patron's chatter and the blaring music. Oops. Zoro supposes the blond fucked up somewhere. Not that it surprises him.
Sanji sinks into the seat next to Zoro and orders a shot of tequila. Zoro's eyebrows rise a little. He eyes Sanji carefully. Pity is not what he feels for the blond at this moment. Neither is satisfaction. He isn't sure, but he's pressing Sanji's hand away as the cook searches for his wallet in his jeans pocket.
"Don't bother. I got it."
Zoro pays the bartender so nonchalant that it catches Sanji off guard. The cook feels himself blush.
Better luck next time, bud.
Or
you win some, you lose some.
Or
shit, they just have no taste.
Maybe
There's plenty more fish in the sea.
Things that Zoro has heard Franky and Usopp say to the cook during moments, such as these, are not things that Zoro finds himself wanting to tell the other. Zoro isn't sure why... he feels a strange sense of relief knowing the cook has been dumped, and it makes Zoro feel like a horrible person. But he feels like not encouraging Sanji to act like a noodle dancing cretin is doing both the cook and the ladies in this bar a favor. He orders another drink for himself and for Eyebrows, and pays for it too, just so he'll feel like less of a monster.
When Sanji gives him a soft smile, his stomach gives a little wiggle and makes him feel a little less like a bad guy.
"It's their loss."
Zoro says softly, words tumbling out before he even realizes there are words in his mouth. The way Sanji's eyes soften when he looks back at Zoro before downing his second shot is enough to make Zoro glad he's said it anyways. The wiggle his tummy continues, and he's pretty sure he's still a bad guy, but maybe in a good way, and he kind of hopes that Sanji thinks that too.
... ...
vi.
... ...
It was really annoying really... the damn heat. The blinding molten sun. The sweat rolling into his eyes. The churning in his stomach. Chopper is already suffering from it, judging by how his movements are sluggish and he keeps close to the railing where sea spray is highest.
This makes Zoro a little nervous, but he knows Chopper is careful. And after what feels like an eternity surrounded by stifling summer island heat, the marines are fleeing. Luffy is cheering, and Sanji is shouting curses at the backside of their retreating ship. Usopp is crying tears of joy, and the rest are simply too tired to celebrate further. Sprawled out, and trying to cool down after their fight. It wasn't a hard battle... but tedious. With the heat, it felt longer than it really was. And now everyone is just exhausted from the endeavour.
Zoro begins feeling exceptionally nauseous as soon as their fight has ended, and it isn't going away. He sits down cross-legged, back against the starboard railing and starts breathing deeply through his nose. Chopper is suddenly pawing at Zoro's boot with his hoof, concern in his wide deer eyes. The reindeer is dripping with sweat; tongue hanging out.
Zoro feels it. The bile rise in his throat, and he closes his eyes, swallowing it back. When he opens his eyes again he feels someone hoisting him up and he is being turned so that the railing presses against his gut. The bile rises faster this time, and Zoro can't hold it in anymore. He pukes; gagging hard into the water. The feeling of hands holding him steady, and keeping him from catapulting over the railing is a little slice of comfort.
"Zoro, you're overheated. You'll be okay."
Chopper's voice drifts from his left. He sounds serious, but not panicked in any way, so the swordsman believes he isn't dying.
He retches. Vomiting again.
"Your face is almost the same color as your hair."
Curly-Brow's teasing words echo next to his ear, and Zoro nearly chokes. Cook's hands are suddenly patting his back, and Zoro feels his humiliation rising.
Everything is suddenly overwhelming and the edges of his vision are swimming in black. Zoro feels his knees buckle and grabs wildly for the railing, it slips from his grasp, but he never feels himself hit the deck.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
When he comes to, his neck hurts, and he is surrounded by water. Shit... did he fall overboard? Zoro startles, legs kicking instinctively. His feet hit the hard sides of the bathtub hard.
"Calm down, shithead, you're in the bath."
Zoro cringes, cursing under his breath, and he blinks the grogginess away.
"Cook?"
"Take it easy. Drink this. Slowly."
Zoro glances down, confused, but then feels a cold glass being pressed against his lips. He swallows eagerly when he feels the cold liquid inside lap over his tongue.
"I said slowly." Sanji is reprimanding.
Zoro swallows down another gulp and finds Sanji's blurry form above the rim of the glass.
"Did I get shot?" He mumbles around the water.
"According to Chopper, you've got heat stroke." Sanji answers.
Zoro hums. It is very hot. This cool bath feels really nice. Cold ice water feels really nice, too. Zoro drinks more.
Sanji sits on the edge of the bath next to him. He's still holding the glass of water. The cook's presence somehow makes Zoro feel calmer, and soon he's nestling back in the bath, ears submerging up to his hairline. Everything echos strangely against the porcelain walls of the tub. He sees the cook's mouth moving, but the words are washed away with the soft ripples of the water. Zoro feels like he's trapped inside a giant seashell, and all he can hear is the ocean pressing in from all sides. It's very relaxing. His eyes drift closed without any warning.
He feels long fingers in his hair, tussling it lightly in the water. It smells like soap, and when Zoro's eyes crack back open, he's staring at the ceiling, and a little to the left of that he finds blue eyes. "Wha're you doing?" He murmurs carefully.
"You stink." Sanji replies easily, and Zoro sees the words on Sanji's lips better than he can actually hear them.
He sighs, still too tired to really care about putting up a fight. He lets Sanji wash his hair. And he quietly enjoys it. "Feels nice."
Sanji has to admit, as he twirls the soap from Zoro's hair and feels the swordsman press closer towards his hand, that it indeed was too damn hot today.
... ...
vii.
... ...
It was one of those days...
The kind where Sanji just wants to get away from everyone and hide away in the storage room and count stock.
The kind where no matter what he did, he just feels continually pissed off. To the point where he's afraid he's going to actually bite someone's head off. His hands are shaking.
He walks to the other side of the ship after his fifth cigarette in less than an hour, and before he knows what's happening he's kicking the snoozing swordsman in the head and calling him a shithead and many other foul names that roll off of Sanji's tongue so easily. Zoro looks very disgruntled. And then he looks very angry. As angry as Sanji feels inside. Zoro's swords are suddenly clashing against the sole of Sanji's shoes and they're yelling curses at each other. Insult after insult. Things they don't really mean. Not really.
And everything just annoys Sanji further. The blue sky. The seagull's cries. The flapping of the flag. The sound of Usopp hammering in the distance. The swaying rock of the ship. Zoro's earrings glinting in the sun. Zoro's stupid face! The way Zoro will always sacrifice himself for this crew. The way Zoro has scars all over his body. The way Zoro is always losing too much fucking blood! The way Sanji is scared shitless of the fear he has suddenly developed about the thought that they could lose any one of them, at any moment... and first to go would probably be that moss brained dumbass. Zoro!
When they're both panting and covered in a thin layer of sweat, Sanji stops kicking and tries to light another cigarette. He can't get the damn thing lit, and he's suddenly throwing his entire pack at Zoro's chest. They bounce off the swordsman and spill all over the deck. Sanji kicks the railing hard enough to make the mast tremble. A tremor runs through his leg, and his toes hurt. The blazing fire in his eyes slowly flickers out. Zoro grumps something unintelligible under his breath, but moves to start gathering Sanji's drugs, plucking them up one by one from the deck.
And Sanji can't take it anymore. He's overly frustrated. His muscles screaming at him. His mind won't stop whirling with thoughts and concerns and what ifs and whys. Sanji crumbles. He sinks to his knees and buries his head in his arms and lets out a silent wail. No sound falls from his lips, but his chest is so tight that his fingers begin clawing at it. There are no tears. Just breath that keeps catching and sticking to the inside of his throat like molten molasses.
The heat of someone's arms are suddenly surrounding him; pulling him up. Pulling him close. Forcing Sanji to lean against sturdy. Then a low, familiar voice nestles into his ear. And the scent of burning tobacco fills his nose and the thin roll of a cigarette is being pressed between his lips. Sanji inhales on instinct. He exhales when Zoro's voice commands him to breathe.
"You're okay. Just keep breathing."
Sanji shakes his head, because he most certainly doesn't feel okay. He reaches out, groping for the other man, and when Sanji's fingers find Zoro's T-shirt, he holds on very tight. Zoro waits until Sanji calms a little, staying close.
"Bad day?"
"I'm going fucking crazy." The words shudder from between his lips.
"I'm here."
"Don't go."
It feels like a long time, but they finally stand and make their way towards the bathroom. Zoro locates a glass and fills it with cold water. He watches Sanji drink it all. He offers him more. Sanji drinks the second glass, as well. Slower than the first, but it's empty soon enough.
"I'm right here, Cook."
What if one day you aren't? The crushing thought reverberates through his skull. Sanji bites his lip.
"I'm not going anywhere."
Don't make promises you can't keep.
Sanji feels absolutely defeated. Exhaustion rippling through him.
"You should try and get some sleep."
It's been one of those days. But today will pass. Sanji stands still until he feels Zoro's hand around his arm, and he's pulling him in a direction that surprises Sanji, because it's actually in the direction of the bedroom. No unintended surprise detours. Sanji flops down in his bed. He toes off his shoes, and feels a blanket engulf him.
"I'm still here." Zoro murmurs above him. The cook's eyes are already drifting closed. But Zoro repeats it over and over until Sanji is fast asleep.
... ...
viii.
... ...
Luffy doesn't know. About the... pain bubble thing.
Zoro feels that is best. The captain doesn't need to know everything. Deserves to know, but doesn't need to. It was Zoro's choice. His battle.
But Sanji knows. Sanji knows and Zoro knows and Zoro doesn't know if anyone else knows. So he has to trust the cook that only they know. He has to trust the cook to keep his mouth shut.
Zoro dreamed about Sanji telling the entire crew. Dreamed Sanji had broken code and blubbered everything out in the open. In his dream Luffy had turned eyes, filled with broken trust and hate, towards him. He can't stop thinking about that dream. Can't stop seeing the disappointment in Luffy's eyes. Can't let that ever happen in reality.
They're sailing in a calm belt and Zoro has that 'too-much-time-to-think' feeling that makes everything feel a little more dense.
He feels a little stir crazy.
And then his shoulder starts bothering him. It hasn't fully healed. Not everything has, but his shoulder throbs out of nowhere from time to time and it bothers Zoro, because Chopper says there should be no lasting damage. But Zoro feels the shooting pain anyways. And it makes him think more. And his thoughts start to drift like the breeze. But then they also start to spiral.
He wants to talk to Sanji about it. About the thing that can never happen. But he doesn't know how. He wants to ask Sanji to keep his mouth shut, but he doesn't know how to do that either. He wants to tell Sanji about this weird dream and these unrealistic...concerns, not fears, (because it would be stupid to be scared of something asinine like that, right?) he suddenly has about how he's "lying" to their captain. About how he's making Sanji "lie" for him. But Zoro doesn't know how to bring any of this up and it's crushing him inside. He doesn't even know why he cares. His shoulder throbs a little harder.
Zoro shifts from his spot on the deck, and has to get up. He stretches. He pulls at his muscle until the pain makes him see stars. He stops.
He only knows that it's his own fault.
Because Zoro had made a choice.
And he sticks by that choice.
And he would do it again.
He would do it again for Luffy. For anyone on their crew. It's his duty. And this is why Luffy doesn't need to know.
Sanji is fanning Nami on her lounge chair on the grass. Zoro is moving before he can stop himself. He walks right up to them and stands close to the cook and mutters a "hey". Nami gives him a confused look, because Zoro is suddenly standing there and blocking her sun. And he's voluntarily talking to Sanji... without malice. Sanji side-eyes the swordsman and opens his mouth to say something a little less than friendly. He seems to change his mind after a moment. He turns to face Zoro then and Nami sees something pass between them. Something that doesn't look like their constant bickering.
"Drink?"
Zoro asks it softly and Sanji doesn't react like he normally would. Which would normally be him telling Zoro to get his own damn drink. No, instead Sanji's tone is light, and he's looking straight into Zoro's eyes. "Is the moss on your head parched?" He borderline teases.
Zoro rolls his eyes. He doesn't find the blond particularly humorous. But he crosses his arms lightly over his chest and gives a soft "little bit" in return.
"I'll be back in a bit, my dearest Nami. Zoro's moss is thirsty."
"That's fine, Sanji." Nami giggles softly. And Sanji grins because he knows she thinks he's being cute in a condescending sort of way, and Nami likes that sort of humor.
Sanji feels the mood dampen the moment he steps into the kitchen door. He heads towards the counter with caution.
"What's up?"
Zoro is suddenly pacing. His heart is beating faster. Skipping beats. He doesn't look at Sanji, and then he does. Sanji has the decency to look appropriately concerned.
"Just tell me."
Zoro doesn't. He can't talk this time. His tongue is tied. His mind is tired.
"Beer?" Sanji questions at Zoro's unnerving silence, and then goes a step further. "Some damn water?" Zoro's pacing is winding him up.
Zoro falters. He plants his feet on the ground. "No... yeah... I don't know."
"You're thinking too much."
"Yeah..." he readily agrees.
Sanji prepares both drinks and sets them on the bar top. When Zoro doesn't move to take them, he turns the kettle on and starts warming up the coffee machine.
It is quiet, sans Zoro's footsteps which have started up again, until the tea kettle begins to whistle. As Sanji pours the tea, Zoro's words flutter out. "Do you think Luffy would hate me if he knew?"
Sanji isn't sure he heard him correctly, but it doesn't take him long to connect the dots. He knows where Zoro's mind is at, as concerning as that seems... "That's hilarious. You're an idiot."
Zoro doesn't laugh.
"Oh, you're serious?" Sanji pours a cup of coffee.
"I had this dream."
The cook lines up all four drinks in a row along the bar. The cups housing their liquid devoutly.
"What dream?"
Zoro suddenly just can't. He's angry, and all he wants to do is have a drink, and cut something. Wants to watch something, that isn't something he cares about, fall apart. He lashes out blindly. His arm knocks the steaming teacup, and it spills. It washes over Zoro's knuckles.
Zoro sees white. His hand is red. Skin scorching. He thinks he might have yelped, screamed even. When he's finally aware of his surroundings, he's propped up against the sink and Sanji is pressed up close behind him, the cook's hands are wrapped around Zoro's arm, and the swordsman's hand is being soaked under a stream of cool running water.
The insults that Sanji is streaming into his ear don't make him feel better. He hisses from the slow burn spreading across his skin.
Sanji is talking to him again, and Zoro feels numb. He doesn't know what he wants to hear. Sanji pulls Zoro's hand out of the water then and starts examining it, as if he's a damn doctor. Zoro doesn't care about the burn on his hand. It's fine. It'll be just fine. His shoulder still hurts, though. But that's already fine, too, according to their real doctor.
Zoro lets a curse tumble from his lips. A frustrated growl. Sanji sticks Zoro's hand back under the faucet. The cook holds it there himself, as if he doesn't trust Zoro not to pull it away. As if he doesn't trust Zoro not to take care of himself.
"Nothing happened."
"You spilled a mug of boiling tea across your fucking hand, you pile of grass."
Zoro rolls his eyes. "Not now. I mean before. Back then." He clarifies, and it takes a moment before Sanji answers. Too long of a moment. Zoro starts to think the cook hadn't understood him. But then the blond speaks.
"You keep saying that. Sure."
"Nothing happened. You know it."
"I know. I know."
"What do you say to Luffy... when he asks you what happened?"
"He doesn't ask me."
"He doesn't?"
"He never has."
"And if he does?"
"He never will."
"How do you know?"
"Because you already told him, dipshit. And if you tell him nothing happened, then that's all Luffy needs to hear."
Sanji sighs. This hidden truth is eating Zoro alive. If they were both being honest, Sanji would start thinking that Zoro is becoming strangely paranoid.
"Luffy believes me."
"Of course he does."
Zoro leans into Sanji quietly. He doesn't know why, but he feels like a weight is pressing him there. Sanji stands firm. Supporting his crewmate. His friend.
"Zoro?"
Zoro hums for Sanji to speak. "I know the nothing that happened. And I'm here."
"My shoulder still hurts." Zoro confesses, and Sanji gives him a weird look, because it's Zoro's hand that just got burned and not his shoulder. "It keeps hurting. But only... sometimes."
"Have you told Chopper?"
"According to him... it shouldn't hurt anymore. I think he thinks it's all in my head."
"Is it, you think?"
Zoro stays quiet. He doesn't know how to answer that.
Sanji reaches up and touches the swordsman's shoulder. He squeezes it softly, and he feels Zoro flinch.
"That burn isn't in your head." Sanji tells him quietly. He wants Zoro to know which pain really is real. But maybe they both are. In different ways. His fingers work steadily into the knotted muscles between Zoro's shoulder and clavicle.
Zoro moans.
"I'll go see Chopper." He pauses. "For the burn."
"You'd better."
"I will. After my drink." Zoro chuckles dryly.
Sanji moves away only long enough to retrieve the familiar mug of coffee. He sets it near Zoro's good arm. He tells Zoro not to spill it. When Zoro drinks the black brew it goes down easily, and a warmth spreads through him. Sanji is holding his wrist again, keeping his hand under the still flowing tap. He starts pressing on Zoro's shoulder quietly. Kneading it almost as he would a yeasty dough.
Zoro doesn't say anything. Neither does Sanji. Zoro drinks his coffee. When Sanji stops his massage, Zoro has long since finished his coffee. Instead the swordsman is checking out his own hand. There's a blistered red burn across the top and spreading around his thumb. It's really troublesome because it's actually starting to throb.
His shoulder is starting to throb a little less, in comparison.
Sanji keeps massaging it anyway.
He listens when Sanji starts talking about a fish rumoured to live in All-Blue. The fish sounds weird. Zoro doesn't really find fish very interesting. But Sanji's voice sounds happy. Alive. Comforting.
Zoro's shoulder pain dampens considerably. He grunts. He hums.
Sanji tells him about another one. A fish with no eyes. No teeth. This fish is rumoured to taste like boiled cherries. People actually put it in cake.
Zoro decides that sounds awful. His ridiculous nightmare fades away, replaced by little details of Sanji's greatest dream. He finds himself suddenly smiling. He can't stop.
Zoro should really go find Chopper.
... ...
ix.
... ...
It is soft and gentle. The lips against his temple.
At first Zoro doesn't react. It is so sudden, he's sure the cook isn't even aware of the tender action. It's most likely just instinct. Something Sanji does to almost everyone when he's celebrating something.
Sanji has never done this to Zoro. Ever.
But... It is Zoro's birthday. Maybe this is why. Zoro can't say for sure because this has never happened on any of his other birthdays.
It is true that things have been quite different lately. Zoro will admit that much.
They're alone in the kitchen, the two of them. Sanji has just set a gift in front of him. A bottle of sake. It looks expensive. And Sanji is caught up in the moment and he just gives Zoro a one armed birthday hug around his shoulders and presses a kiss against the swordsman's temple.
Zoro is very touched. Which is weird for him to admit. He has this weird flutter deep in his stomach that makes him feel happy. Giddy.
He says thank you very genuinely.
The cook tells him happy birthday. He calls him Marimo, like normal, but there is a soft lilt to his voice that isn't usually there. It sounds almost affectionate.
Zoro feels his neck getting warm and his cheeks are probably a little pink. He only ran in here to escape Luffy's incessant singing. He hadn't expected the Cook to be in on the gift giving shenanigans too.
The entire morning he had soft cuddles from Chopper, who wouldn't leave his arms. Usopp had made him a firework. He doesn't get to see it until tonight, but he can definitely deal with that. Nami gave him a pouch filled with cash. It was more than he was expecting. Franky built him a rack for his swords in the crows nest so they have a place to chill when he trains. Robin had made him a blanket for winter island naps on deck. Brook promised to play him any song he requests tonight at his party. His party that his captain seems to be planning. Luffy wanted to get him a parrot, but everyone on board apparently vetoed it. Zoro is thankful for that. He wouldn't know what to do with a parrot. Luffy would probably end up eating it anyway.
He ran in here for a quick out, and now he doesn't know what he walked into. It's not what he is expecting. But it certainly isn't unpleasant.
"What do you want for dinner?"
Sanji brings Zoro out of his thoughts. Zoro gives him a soft look. The kind of look you give someone when they're watching the sunrise with you. He feels different around Sanji lately. Ever since that day 2 months ago when the cook massaged his shoulder... he'd done it three more times since then, but it seemed to open up some sort of doorway. An invitation to something Zoro can't put a name to.
They touch each other more now.
Not in any very intimate way. But in different ways than Luffy touches Zoro. And in different ways than Chopper touches Zoro. Different than annoying friendly touches. Different than sleepy cuddly hugs. Different than it used to be. Certainly. It used to only be with soles of shoes and polished blades.
Now it's brushed knuckles and knocked ankles and little massages. Shoulders at taverns. Elbows while washing dishes. Toes under the table during cards. Apparently soft kisses on temples. This one is a first, however.
Flirty. But domestic.
Comfortable.
It's actually all very uncomfortable, but in a comfortable sort of way.
It feels like a challenge.
It kind of turns Zoro on.
Zoro's mouth suddenly goes a little dry.
He isn't sure when lines were crossed. Or blurred. It just happened. Is happening.
"Those fish fries you make are pretty tasty." Zoro finally answers.
And it's sentences like that. Compliments that come so easily. Words that spill over Zoro's lips only around Sanji that makes him aware that there's something going on.
Zoro is a private person. He doesn't normally dwell on feelings or things that distract him from getting stronger. But his head has been betraying him lately, and Sanji has been good for that. Good for reminding his thoughts where to go. Helping him stay grounded. Helping him get things off his chest.
Zoro likes talking to Sanji.
He likes sharing a drink with Sanji.
He likes the feel of Sanji's warm hands. Hugs. Lips...
It's all easier than Zoro ever fathomed it would be. It feels right.
Zoro shifts in his seat and realizes he's thinking way too much because he's half hard in his pants, and he doesn't know why. This is something he doesn't feel he can share with Sanji yet. It's not something he even feels ready for himself.
"Hey, you okay? You look white."
Zoro jumps at Sanji's words. All his blood is quickly going south. He stands. He feels flustered.
"Just fine. Forgot something."
Zoro practically squeaks. He doesn't look at Sanji as he heads quickly for the door. His steps are a little staggered.
He takes care of himself in the crow's nest.
He thinks about Sanji when he cums.
He isn't sure what it means entirely, but he isn't entirely ignorant about what his body is telling him.
He goes back downstairs when he feels calmer. When the glow has faded. And he's surprised to find a tray of untouched snacks waiting for him at the base of the ladder.
It's his birthday. So no one dares to eat it before he can. It's his.
There's a drink and onigiri. Zoro's stomach growls. His heart thuds faster. His eyes find the kitchen door and he smiles so big that his drink nearly tumbles through his teeth when he takes a swig. It's a very good grog.
Zoro brings the empty tray back to the kitchen when he's finished. No one is there. Zoro lingers for a moment, wondering where the curly brow is, before deciding it's weird to wonder that. The cook doesn't live in the kitchen. He has other priorities than just standing behind an oven all day. He will admit, the kitchen has a weird vibe without Sanji in it. Zoro turns to leave. He doesn't feel welcome in here... feels like he's trespassing or something, no matter how unreasonable that seems.
He catches sight of his birthday gift on the table. The sake that Sanji gave him. He'd left it in here earlier in his haste. Zoro picks it up and fingers the label carefully. He unscrews the cap and takes a long sip. It burns gently all the way down. He screws the cap back on and tucks the bottle under his arm. He would be saving this for a special occasion.
A moment when he can drink it in peace, maybe. When he can look up at the stars, when the ship is still and the water is calm and black. Maybe he can even share it with someone. Maybe with Sanji.
Zoro feels his cheeks warm up, and he doesn't think it's because of the sake.
... ...
x.
... ...
A kiss.
Zoro's lips are still tingling from it. The ghost of it. It's better than phantom shoulder pain after all. Kiss tingles.
Zoro can't really wrap his head around it all the way. It's too ... different. Too weird. It means too much. His stomach feels weird.
I want to do it again. His mind chants.
He wants more.
He wants it all.
Zoro always wants it all. Go big or go home. All or nothing.
His philosophy.
Sanji's too. Zoro hopes.
They're having a party. It's so loud.
Everyone is wild. Everyone is happy.
Zoro finds himself dancing. Sanji asks him. In not so many words. He says "come on, Mossy, show these fuckers how to dance." Cook sounds basically appalled. Sanji looks disgustedly in Usopp and Franky's direction and gestures grossly with his hand. The blond rolls his eyes back into his skull. Zoro is so amused that he doesn't even feel like arguing. Not that he has time to refuse. Sanji is just pulling him against his will, close to his body. Their chests bump. He's doing the tango with the cook.
Zoro is no clumsy dancer. Dancing is like fighting... it's choreography, rhythm, feeling, just classic combat manoeuvres. And if the cook can do it, he can surely do it better.
He spins Sanji like a damn damsel, but Sanji isn't a damsel at all. In fact, Sanji is leading this dance. He is all man. But the blond twirls, he twists so lightly on his feet.
It pisses Zoro off how much that makes his heart race. He refuses to admit how much he is actually enjoying this.
Matching step for step. Spinning. Sliding. Grinning. Sweating. They're completely in tune with the beat. In tune with each other. No one steps on anyone's toes.
The song is over and their crew is still so loud. Sanji is staring into Zoro's eyes. Another song is starting up via Brook. A slower jive. Sanji takes Zoro's hands. Zoro doesn't want to dance anymore.
He pulls them so hastily towards a storeroom that no one would suspect a thing. Probably that they'll kick the shit out of each other, because Zoro is so full of tense, keyed up emotion that he looks ready to snap. Instead he lets Sanji go and throws his hands in his hair and screams "Fuck!"
Sanji straightens is tie and mussed shirt and Zoro can't take it. He steps up to Sanji; stands toe to toe with the other man. His breath pants against the other's lips and Sanji holds eye contact. Those blue eyes dare him. Zoro takes the damn dare and bunches the Cook's shirt in his fist. He isn't sure what to do first. He isn't sure what to do at all. He stands as frozen as a fucking ice sculpture and he wishes the cook would just kick him.
"I don't know what I'm doing here." Zoro admits, and that's so insanely hard for him to tell Sanji, but he says it anyways. Because Sanji can take it. He can handle hard things. And Zoro knows he can trust Sanji. Can tell the blond things he shouldn't be able to.
"Thought it was obvious." Sanji rolls his eyes at him. He moves forward so that Zoro doesn't have to. He catches the swordsman's lips in a second kiss.
The rest happens too quickly for Zoro to really keep up. Sanji is legs. He is pale skin and soft hands. Sanji is flexibility, and fuck it all, he is a gentleman. He is also a force.
Zoro is power and endurance. He is gentle and comforting arms. He accepts all that Sanji has to give and takes it without complaint. They don't go all the way. They go far enough that they're both still comfortable, and they leave enough avenues open for exploration at a next time. Sanji's pants are still on. Zoro's off. But they both find release.
Zoro likes the feel of Sanji's fingers on him. Sanji likes how the swordsman makes him come undone, even through his underpants. Zoro listens to Sanji... To the things Sanji isn't ready for, and to the things he wants more of, and Sanji finds this attractive in a way he didn't know he'd needed.
Zoro is shaking. Sanji tells him to sit down, and his knees all but buckle. Sanji is almost worried they went too far after all, but he knows they didn't. Instead he passes Zoro his boxers and begins looking around in the storage room for a bottle of Merlot that he knows is around here somewhere.
Zoro leans back against the wall, and watches Sanji rummage through a box in the dim lighting. He feels high. He startles when the cook presses a long, cold bottle into his still tingling hands. He blinks slowly, watching Sanji walk out the door with a "be right back" hanging in the air between them.
Sanji makes Zoro feel so damn good.
He sits there in his afterglow, and is actually surprised, but not surprised, when the cook walks back into the room with two of the wine glasses that are normally only given to the girls or the cook himself. Zoro's mind is hazy, and he feels like he is falling. And he's almost certain he is. Falling. Falling for the curly browed love-cook. He doesn't know when or why or possibly how, but Zoro kind of is getting the message that the cook is headed in the same direction as Zoro.
Sanji is pouring the wine.
Zoro is tasting the wine. They clink their glasses and drink in silence.
"Just a one time thing?" Sanji is asking.
Zoro gives him a look, "Don't think so."
"Okay."
"What about for you?" Zoro asks, because he has to be sure.
Sanji takes a seat across from the swordsman on a large crate. "Don't think so." He parrots softly, and damn he needs a cigarette, but there's not a lot of ventilation in here and it smells of wood, and wine, and mustiness already. He lets their knees knock together, and Zoro's socked toes poke Sanji's ankle softly.
Sanji tops off Zoro's glass. "I like it." Zoro tells him softly. And he remembers the glass of white wine that didn't taste as good as this, back before this thing all started.
"Is a good quality. Aged." Sanji takes a longer sip, and pauses at the smile playing on Zoro's lips. He doesn't normally smile like that. Sanji hopes he'll do that more often.
"I meant this thing we have." Zoro clarifies. He chuckles.
"I know."
"You do."
"I always do."
It was just a drink, after all. But it meant so much more than either of them could drink to. Zoro raised his glass, Sanji followed suit. "Here's to us."
Clink.
End.