Part Three: To Work
Author's Note: It's not important to the story and totally background information, but to avoid confusion, I want to make it known before the chapter starts that Usopp is in a polyamorous relationship with Luffy and Nami. Why? Because I like the ship and I can.
Also, grab a snack, take a bathroom break if you need it, and get comfortable because this is a long one.
Back to your regularly scheduled programming.
Sanji lay on the lawn, head resting on his interlocked fingers, staring up at the stars in the inky sky. Most everyone had gone to sleep, but for Usopp tinkering away in his workshop and Robin on her night watch. He didn't know what he would say to anyone who might ask him what he was doing out here when he should be in bed getting in his few hours of sleep, and he found himself not caring enough to try to come up with an excuse. He was drained after the day he'd had and looking up at something so much bigger and older than him was oddly comforting. The sky had been there longer than he had and it would be there long after he was gone.
Sanji breathed in slowly. He and Zoro hadn't spoken since that afternoon. Sanji had managed to pry himself off Zoro and the words exchanged between them were Zoro asking him if he was okay and Sanji mumbling excuses about needing to get started on dinner and hearing Luffy shouting that he was hungry. Luffy wasn't shouting, but Zoro let him leave with the tatters of his pride that he had left.
Put simply, it was humiliating that Zoro had to keep comforting him this way. That just wasn't their relationship anymore and Zoro clearly had his own troubles. And it was humiliating that he couldn't talk about his childhood, couldn't think about...certain people without having something resembling a breakdown.
His thoughts turned to Robin's assurances that he wasn't alone in this, but talking about what made him lose sleep had never been Sanji's strong suit. And who could he talk to about this, really? Zoro was the only one he could begin to fathom telling about the people he was related to by blood, and that had brought him here, stargazing alone while the minutes that could be spent sleeping ticked by. If he got anything out of this night, it should be that he was going to sleep like a rock by the next one.
Sanji continued to stare up at the sky, taking in its vastness and cold beauty, and imagined it swallowing him up, dissolving him and his problems until his essence mingled with the stars, spreading out across the universe. He closed his eyes and imagined that he could inhale the night sky, the stars filling him with a glowing, healing light that spread through his body. Lying there, breathing slowly, full of stars and cosmic dust and light, it filled him with an inner peace he hadn't known since he'd seen that wedding invitation.
"Sanji?" Usopp's soft voice cut through the stillness of the night, pulling him out of his comfortable lull.
Sanji didn't respond. Maybe if Usopp thought he was asleep, he'd go away. Give him a few more minutes and he very well could drift into unconsciousness.
He heard soft footsteps approach him until they came to a stop next to his head. Sanji slid his eyes open and lazily trained his gaze on his crewmate, looking up at Usopp's concerned face.
"Sanji," Usopp said. "Why're you out here? Shouldn't you be in bed?"
"I could ask you the same thing," Sanji replied stubbornly, looking back up at the sky, forcing Usopp's image into his peripheral vision.
"Well." A pause. "I wanted to see how you were doing."
Sanji stretched out his arms and yawned languidly, a picture of casual indifference. The idea of telling Usopp what was weighing him down like he'd wanted to with Robin briefly danced in his thoughts, but he shut that urge in a little box and put it up on a shelf in the back of his mind. Usopp didn't need to be bothered with problems that were Sanji's own doing and the idea of it made Sanji want to plunge himself into the ocean. He often told his male crewmates he didn't care what they thought of him, but he couldn't stand the thought of the ship's sniper looking at him with disgust or, worst of all, pity.
It occurred to him that Usopp could know more than he let on. Luffy or Nami doubtlessly had told him about Sanji and Luffy's confrontation on Whole Cake. But he was still holding onto the hope that Nami hadn't told him anything regarding Pudding. Come to think of it, what all did Robin know? Nami and Robin were best friends, and didn't women tell their best friends everything? Just how much did the crew know about what was going on? The thought made his stomach turn.
Undeterred by Sanji's reticence, Usopp continued. "Then...can I sit with you?"
Sanji shrugged, gesturing at the spot next to him.
Usopp sat down and crossed his legs, back slightly hunched, palms on his knees. He said nothing, nervously looking around as if scanning for enemies.
"Don't you want to go cuddle Luffy or something?" Sanji finally asked after enough awkward silence passed between them.
"You can't cuddle Luffy in his sleep," Usopp replied, to which Sanji snorted. A peaceful sleeper, Luffy was not. Come to think of it, neither was Usopp. No wonder Nami rarely let him sleep with her in her bed.
Sanji's lips curled into a smirk, a chuckle rumbling in his throat.
"What's so funny?" Usopp asked, looking at Sanji nervously.
"I was just thinking of you trying to cuddle Luffy and getting hit in the face," Sanji responded, laughing a little louder. It wasn't that funny, but the release felt good.
Usopp snickered until he was laughing with Sanji. "Yeah, that's usually how it goes," Usopp confirmed when his laughter died down. The silence that followed was companionable. Sanji relished it. Nowadays silence between him and another person made his skin crawl, but this one felt good. He felt grateful that Usopp had approached him–not that he would tell him, of course.
"Hey, Usopp."
"Yeah, Sanji?"
"What do you do when you want to tell someone something, but you just can't? Physically? As if your body is stopping you?" Sanji said, words spilling out of him like they had the last time he'd been with Zoro. He didn't mind so much; if anyone knew the answer, it was Usopp.
Usopp pondered Sanji's question, staring at the grass in front of him. "You could try writing it down," he suggested, drumming his fingers on his knee. "And have the person read it alone if you can't read it to him–them. Them!"
"I'll consider that," Sanji said, graciously ignoring Usopp's stumble.
Usopp looked at him, worry creasing his brow and pulling his lips down in a frown. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.
Sanji paused long enough for a couple of breaths to pass between them. "Not really."
"Then is it okay if I stay with you for a little longer?" Usopp asked gently. "Before I go to bed? It's a beautiful night."
Sanji nodded and trained his eyes back up on the sky.
Usopp said nothing more and lay down next to him, sharing the grass and the light breeze and the endless stretch of stars with Sanji.
"Cook."
Sanji's eyes shot open and took in the sight of Zoro looking down at him
He must have looked as disoriented as he felt because Zoro said "You overslept."
Sanji sat up with a start, looking around the men's quarters wildly until his sleep heavy mind registered that everyone else was still asleep. Grumbling and cursing under his breath, Sanji shot out of his bunk and quickly got dressed under Zoro's impenetrable gaze, already starting to regret last night.
When he saw Zoro still staring at him, Sanji hissed over his shoulder, "Go back to sleep, Marimo."
"But I'm awake now."
A sound that was too close to an undignified screech escaped Sanji's clenched teeth and he threw his nighttime shirt in Zoro's face before practically running for the kitchen. To his surprise, Zoro had followed him. "Get the hell out of here!" Sanji shouted freely in the privacy of the kitchen, snatching bowls out of their cabinets. Lack of sleep, frustration at his own carelessness, and the fresh humiliation of what happened yesterday had Sanji on edge. Oh, and he needed a smoke, but he didn't have that luxury at the moment.
"Are we going to talk about yesterday?"
"Oh, now you want to talk!" Sanji grumbled.
"The wounded act doesn't look good on you, Cook," Zoro deadpanned.
"Fu–Can't you see I'm a little busy, marimo bastard?" Sanji asked over his shoulder as he scrubbed his hands clean in the sink.
"Then let me help."
"I'M NOT LETTING YOU TOUCH ANYTHING IN MY KITCHEN!"
Zoro looked unimpressed by Sanji's outburst.
"Why–why do you want to help?" Sanji asked.
"Stop being stupid and accept the help, shit-cook."
"NO!"
"'You caught me in a generous mood,'" Zoro said, parroting Sanji's words from yesterday.
"I said no!" Sanji roared, face heating up. Anger, embarrassment, it didn't matter; it all started to feel the same after a while. "You–you keep doing this!"
"Doing what?"
"Being nice to me! Helping me!"
Zoro blinked. "We've been over this," he said plainly, infuriating Sanji further, because everything was always so cut and dry with Zoro.
"Yeah, well, it doesn't make sense," Sanji said, deflating a little as he pulled a drawer open and grabbed a whisk and spatula. "You should be angry with me."
"Don't tell me what I should or shouldn't be, curly brow," Zoro replied as he crossed the bar and came closer to Sanji. "I've already worked past that."
Sanji made an incredulous sound. "Impossible." If you're not angry, then why are we still–
Sanji stopped himself before he finished that thought. The hardest part about being a human was the messy emotions. One could understand something logically–see: understanding that the one you wanted most in the world wasn't with you because you proposed to someone else–but getting the heart to understand that was no small task.
Zoro shrugged as if to say "I don't know what to tell you" and Sanji would have thrown the whisk in that apathetic face of his if he didn't need it. He sighed, marching towards the refrigerator and inputting the combination on the lock before throwing the door open. "Wash your hands," he commanded before listing ingredients for Zoro to grab.
"You are not going to be doing any actual cooking. I don't need you giving me any more work when you inevitably burn everything," Sanji said firmly, earning him an eye roll from Zoro. "You're just going to help me out with prep."
"Whatever you say, Curly."
Sanji prepared breakfast in time by the skin of his teeth–and Zoro's help, loath as he was to admit it. He kept himself busy throughout the meal refilling drinks and bringing out extra helpings for those who wanted it, capping it all off with a plate of cinnamon rolls that absolutely delighted Chopper and the women. He also kept himself busy with making more coffee, keeping himself awake by tossing back enough cups to give pause to the people who were keeping an eye on him.
And he knew he was being watched, by three people, precisely: Usopp, Robin, and Zoro. Usopp tried to be surreptitious about it, but the shifty eyes and grimacing gave him away. Zoro and Robin didn't bother with being discreet; Zoro outright stared and Robin smiled enigmatically over the rim of her mug while she tracked his movements. With it being often difficult to get a read on either of them, it sometimes frightened Sanji how similar they were.
But he ignored them. He would rather die than tell Robin what to do, Nami was less forgiving of him when he yelled at Usopp and he would never willingly put himself on her bad side, and it was better to leave the Zoro problem alone. He could pick a fight with him, but with the events of yesterday fresh on his mind, Sanji was going to leave things be for the moment.
So Sanji kept everyone's plates and mugs full until everyone left satisfied. Everyone except Zoro. They stared at each other wordlessly until Zoro started grabbing plates. Sanji, though he resented to accept more help from Zoro, was never one to turn down help with the dishes, so he put aside his pride and simply said, "It goes by faster if you stack them."
Zoro made a sound acknowledging him and silence settled between them, the clatter of plates providing the only sound in the room. Perhaps it was because the coffee was starting to lose its effect and Sanji's mind was slowing down, perhaps it was because of the familiarity of doing dishes with Zoro, but much like the time he'd shared with Usopp the previous night, the silence didn't make him want to throw himself over the railing of the ship. Zoro and Sanji worked in tandem, Zoro washing, Sanji drying and putting up dishes, and for once Sanji could be next to Zoro and feel at ease.
When the dishes were done Zoro left to entertain himself and Sanji looked around at the peaceful, empty galley. He wanted to squeeze in a nap now that he had time before lunch, but his mind kept returning to Usopp's suggestion that he write down what he couldn't put into words. He wanted so desperately for Zoro to understand his state of mind back on Whole Cake, even if it couldn't erase what he'd done, and if he waited until he could talk about what had happened without shutting down, then he and Zoro would be waiting a while.
He found a small notebook he'd stashed away for future use and a pen, taking both with him to the bar. Sitting on a stool, he stared at the notebook for a long while, repeatedly picking up the pen and uncapping it before putting it back down. Seconds ticked on the clock and when Sanji looked back up he was alarmed to see fifteen minutes had gone by. He yanked the book open with a new resolve, uncapping the pen and scratching out his first sentence:
This doesn't change what I did and I know it won't make things better, but you deserve to know.
Sanji had wanted to write his thoughts down in one sitting, but found himself needing to stop often when he felt his fight or flight response activating. It made for tedious, unproductive work, and he forced himself to stop after three pages. He felt demoralized, staring at his work and realizing how long it had taken him to write so little and knowing that it was just the beginning of what he had to say to Zoro. But that resigned look that had been on Zoro's face when he came to the conclusion that Sanji didn't want him returned to Sanji when he felt like crumpling up the pages and stopping altogether. He knew he would have to come back to his writing later, else he would stay in that spot for days to come, so he closed the notebook and hid it away.
That had been two days ago. Sanji now sat at the top of one of the staircases outside, lighting up a cigarette as he watched life proceed on the Sunny. Brook and Franky were improvising a song together about food, he couldn't see Robin and Nami but he knew they were attending to their gardens, Chopper was in his office, Zoro was napping, and Usopp was regaling Luffy, who had his head in Usopp's lap, with tales of Sogeking's adventures. Seeing the two like that, with the way Usopp gesticulated wildly as he narrated Sogeking's narrow escape from danger, hamming it up for Luffy, and the way Luffy looked up at Usopp adoringly, a gentle smile on his lips, made Sanji's heart clench and made him instinctively look at Zoro.
You really don't know what you mean to me, do you?
Sanji took a final drag of his cigarette and stood back up, heading back into the kitchen to continue writing. It was a painstaking process, even if his words flowed onto the paper in a stream of consciousness, because he kept going back over what he'd written and scratching out incoherent lines of thought. And when he wasn't turning a critical eye on his work he felt his mind shutting down, much like it did when he tried to explain himself to Zoro. How different would things currently be between him and Zoro if Sanji had managed to be more eloquent?
But he kept at it, reminding himself that it was for Zoro. With enough time, effort, and patience, Sanji was finally able to describe the early years with Judge, his rotten sons, and Reiju. The easy part was done. What lay next for him was to tell Zoro about his mother and Sanji could only hope he was up to the task.
Sanji tossed back his head, upending his tankard of ale as he finished the last of his drink. The Sunny had docked at the nearest port island and now he, Nami, Robin, Franky, and Zoro were finishing the day in a tavern. Nami had roped him into carrying her shopping bags after he'd finished restocking the kitchen, then had coaxed him into drinking with her and Robin, which hadn't taken much effort on her part. Franky and Zoro had tagged along and were shooting darts with one of the tavern's patrons, a broad shouldered young man around their age with stupid blue hair who'd taken a liking to Zoro. And with the way Zoro smirked approvingly when the guy talked, his eyes traveling up and down when the man threw his dart, the feeling was mutual.
The man, whose name Sanji had forgotten as soon as he introduced himself, said something that had Franky and even Zoro laughing. Zoro, dart poised in his hand as he lined up his shot, eye half-closed as he responded, was achingly handsome in that moment and Sanji found himself trying to order another round of drinks, trying and failing not to pay attention to their repartee. Some days, he mused, were easier on him and some days played out like this one.
"Sanji-kun."
He whipped his head around to look at Nami, who was frowning at him, her cheeks red from the alcohol. "Y-yes, Nami-san?"
"Stop torturing yourself," she chided. She laid her cheek against her fist, training her gaze over his shoulder and tracking something.
"OW!" Franky yelled behind Sanji, explaining what Nami had been looking at. "This is a SUPER day!"
The cyborg hopped onto the barstool next to Robin, raising a large hand as he loudly tried to signal the barkeep, a middle aged woman who simply glared at him out of the corner of her eye for a moment before turning her attention back to the customer she was listening to.
"Try it like this, Franky," Robin instructed. "Madame Claudette, when you have a moment?"
As Franky and Robin began to chat, Sanji and Nami looked back at each other. Nami looked adorable with her face flushed red, but Sanji couldn't find it within himself to tell her, tensing as he heard Wave Head–which was what he was now calling the guy Zoro was hanging out with, because his hair was various shades of blue and shaped like a wave and it was stupid–laugh in a relaxed way that totally didn't sound like he practiced it in the mirror at home.
"Do you know how to play pool?" Wave Head asked.
"No," Zoro replied. "How about you show me?"
Sanji's grip tightened on the handle to his empty tankard, knuckles blanching. Nami frowned at his hand disapprovingly. "Sanji-kun," she said, her voice taking on a more solemn tone. "Don't you think Zoro might be trying to move on?"
Sanji gulped, sitting up straighter in his seat to make himself taller, his hand shooting into the air. "Madame Claudette!"
Madame Claudette looked over at their group, released a long suffering sigh, muttered something to the customer in front of her, and started working on the next round of drinks.
No, it hadn't occurred to him that Zoro might try to move on. Maybe it was naive of him, but Sanji truly hoped that Zoro was only taking the time to sort out his feelings. That quiet moment they had together in Wano and their small moments onboard Sunny were what gave him hope, and he often returned to them at night when sleep evaded him. Sanji wanted to believe that, given enough time, Zoro would come to Sanji when he was ready, and if Sanji wasn't that lucky, then he hoped that Zoro would respect him enough to tell him he was moving on with his life before hopping into someone else's bed.
"I don't think that's fair, Nami," Robin interjected, coming to Sanji's rescue.
"Are you seeing what I'm seeing, Robin?" Nami asked, gesturing flippantly at the pool table Zoro and Wave Head occupied. When Sanji braved a look, he saw Zoro and Wave Head standing awfully close, Wave Head partially wrapped around Zoro as he guided Zoro's arms in drawing back the cue stick and using it to shoot the cue ball into the others. The way Zoro smirked back at Wave Head over his shoulder made Sanji's stomach turn.
Madame Claudette plunked their drinks down in front of them. Sanji immediately drank from his while Robin graciously thanked her.
Robin turned her attention back to Zoro and Wave Head and assessed the situation, lips pursed. "I think Zoro is simply having fun," she said, the straight line of her lips becoming one of those knowing smiles of hers.
"Lots of fun," Franky muttered under his breath when Zoro's laugh rang out across the tavern. Sanji made quick work of finishing his ale.
"It's just harmless flirting," Robin continued, cupping her cheek in her hand as she continued to observe Zoro and Wave Head. "Don't tell me you've never enjoyed the company of an attractive stranger before, Nami."
Nami humphed and daintily sipped on her drink, unconvinced.
Sanji groaned and dropped his head onto the bar. "Could we please stop discussing my love life?" Or lack thereof.
Franky slapped Sanji on the back. "It's okay, Sanji!" he said cheerfully. "You got us here with you. Now, since it looks like you need a distraction, come play darts with me!"
Sanji didn't respond, content to stay slumped over the bar because the alcohol was making him sluggish, sitting up only when Nami elbowed him in the ribcage. "Go have fun, Sanji!" she called after him as Franky ushered him to the dartboard.
It was a mismatched game since Franky was barely one drink in and Sanji didn't have full use of his faculties. Franky boasted, posing obnoxiously, but it was enough to keep Sanji distracted. He felt himself sobering up enough to score better by the second game, to Franky's increasing dismay.
"You know, Sanji."
"Yeah?" Sanji said as he lined up his shot, glancing at Franky.
"If you're worried about Zoro, just talk to him."
Sanji missed his shot wildly, the dart flying into the corkboard the dartboard was mounted on. He grimaced, rubbing at his neck as he looked over at Zoro, who was leaning on his pool stick and grinning at Wave Head, who was teasingly accusing Zoro of hustling him. He sounded impressed for a man who'd just lost money, but maybe he was just trying to get lucky.
"It's not that I'm not trying," Sanji said. "It's just...difficult."
"But have you told him how you feel?"
"Yeah," Sanji replied simply. "Not very well, but yeah. He didn't believe me, not that I can blame him. But I'm working on something. I hope it'll be enough."
Franky nodded, throwing his dart. Nearly half of the crew had spoken to him about Zoro at this point, all of them with some type of advice. Had they given Zoro the same treatment, or was Sanji just special because he was clearly the one in greater need?
He and Franky played for a couple more games before they were ready to return to their seats next to Nami and Robin.
"Have fun, boys?" Robin asked, smiling warmly at them.
Franky shouted in response and Sanji found himself nodding, a small smile on his lips until his ears perked up when he heard Zoro's voice.
"Well, I think I'm gonna turn in."
"Why stop the fun now?" Wave Head's voice. Sanji immediately turned his head to stare at both men. "Y'wanna come back to my place for a nightcap?"
Zoro caught Sanji staring at him, then looked back at Wave Head, the relaxed expression on his face gone as he swallowed. Sanji held his breath until Zoro responded. "Thanks, but no. I'm gonna head out now."
Disappointment flickered across Wave Head's features, but he nodded graciously. "It's been fun, Zoro. Look me up next time you're around."
"Yeah," Zoro said, passing him his cue stick, catching Sanji's eye one last time. "Sure."
Zoro headed for the exit and Sanji watched him dumbly until multiple sets of hands poked and prodded him until he dropped a fistful of coins onto the bar to cover his drinks. Sanji hurriedly got out of his seat, Robin's Fleurs giving him that extra push that sent him into a small run until he caught up with Zoro. Zoro looked at him when he heard him approaching. "Headed to the ship, too, Cook?" he asked as they pushed past the swinging doors.
"Well, I can't let you get yourself lost in the dark," Sanji said, sounding more nonchalant than he felt. "It's not a large island, but you could get lost in a circular room, so."
"Piss off."
Sanji chuckled, fishing his packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and tapping one out. He and Zoro continued to walk in easy silence while Sanji lit up. He no longer felt discouraged now that Zoro had plainly turned down someone Sanji had to begrudgingly admit was attractive, but his heart hammered in his chest whenever he tried to bring it up. Zoro hadn't just turned down someone he was clearly attracted to, he'd looked at Sanji when he'd done it. If that wasn't a sign, then Sanji didn't know what was. He just simply had to bring it up.
Houses and streets passed by as they headed for the ship. Sunny was in eyesight by the time Sanji had worked up the nerve to speak up. "So."
"Yeah?"
"That guy..."
"What about him?"
"He was good looking."
Zoro blinked. Sanji could see his shoulders tense. "Yeah," he agreed, cautiously. "Yeah, he was."
"What did he call himself?" Sanji asked. "I've been calling him Wave Head all night."
"Why would you–"
Sanji gestured to his head with his free hand. "The hair?"
"Oh. I hardly noticed."
"Yeah," Sanji replied, then took a drag of his cig. "Yeah, I guess you were noticing other things."
"Get to the point, shit-cook," Zoro growled.
Sanji came to a stop. He sighed. "Look. That guy was clearly into you and you were clearly into him, so I was wondering why..."
"Why what?"
Sanji grit his teeth. This stupid bastard was going to force him to say it, wasn't he? The asshole would pay for it later. "What I want to know is why you turned down an obvious offer of booze and sex. Two of your favorite things."
Zoro's mouth dropped open for a moment before he forced it back shut. He looked back at Sunny. "Why do you think?" he said through his teeth.
"I dunno," Sanji said, his turn to be difficult. "I can't wrap my head around it. So you tell me."
Zoro spun around and punched Sanji in the jaw, knocking his cigarette out of his mouth. Sanji stared at him in shock before he kicked at Zoro. Zoro blocked his blow with an arm hardened by Haki. "What the hell is your problem, dumbass cook?" he shouted.
Sanji lowered his leg, shoving his hands in his pockets and sighing. He glared at the ground. "You keep–you keep doing all these things. These nice, caring things that confuse the shit out of me. And you turn down this attractive man who all but throws himself at you and you look at me and you–I–we..."
Zoro stared at him soberly as Sanji tried and failed to articulate what it was he was feeling.
"I just–I goddamn miss you, all right?" Sanji said, all signs of composure gone. "I miss seeing your green head in the kitchen before breakfast, I miss you sneaking up behind me and grabbing me when I'm cooking, I miss keeping you company on your night watch, I... I miss getting to touch you."
Sanji covered his eyes with his hand, inhaling sharply as he felt a small pressure in the back of his eyes and nose. He kept quiet until he could trust himself to speak again without crying. "I miss you and you do these nice things to me and I can't have you. That's the hardest part about all this. I can't have you and you do things that make me think I actually have a chance to make it up to you and then you pull away and still I can't have you. Are–are you trying to punish me? I know I deserve it, but, shit, Zoro."
"Cook."
Sanji's breath quivered.
"Cook." Footsteps.
Sanji took his hand from his face and took a step back. "N-no. No. Don't touch me."
"Okay." Zoro let his hand fall back to his side.
They stood there in silence, Sanji debating whether he should light another cigarette to replace the one Zoro had knocked out of his mouth.
"I'm not trying to send you mixed signals, Sanji," Zoro finally said. "You think this is easy on me? I don't like seeing you like this."
Sanji chuckled bitterly, at himself, at the situation. "Yeah. I'm a mess, aren't I?" Poor, helpless Sanji. It infuriated him to know that was what everyone else saw. He really needed to get his shit together.
"I want you, too," Zoro continued. "I'm just. Not all there yet."
Sanji exhaled slowly, nodding to himself as he came to a decision. It wasn't ready and it wasn't everything that Zoro needed to hear, but it was time to break out the notebook; he couldn't afford to wait any longer. There could be so many more Wave Heads from here to Laugh Tale. "I have something to show you," he said, looking up into Zoro's eye. "It's not completed yet, but I don't know how much longer until it is, and I can't wait anymore."
"Okay," Zoro said. "What is it?"
Sanji rocked on his heels, staring at Sunny. "It's on the ship. Just...follow me."
Zoro followed him the rest of the way to the ship and into the galley. Sanji flipped the light on while Zoro entered behind him. He fished the notebook out of his hiding spot and tossed it onto the bar, sighing as he started digging around in the cupboards until he found a well-hidden, expensive bottle of sake. He held it up to the light to catch Zoro's attention, but Zoro was already opening the book and scanning the first page.
"What is this?" Zoro asked, looking up at Sanji and ignoring the bottle of alcohol.
"It's me trying to explain myself," Sanji said, placing the bottle down on the bar. He grabbed two cups, but Zoro was already opening the bottle and drinking from it. A tired smile curled Sanji's lips. "That bottle was going to be for your birthday, but..." He sighed and put one of the cups back up while Zoro sat down and started reading. Sanji hadn't yet reached the part in his writing where he lost his mother, admittedly putting off writing about her and what happened after her death, but this would have to do for now. He brought his own cup with him, opting to use it for an ashtray, and sat down next to Zoro.
He took his own swig from the sake bottle while Zoro read on, the same intensity on his face that he saw on Nami when she was working on one of her maps. "This is...the beginning of what I was trying to tell you a while back," Sanji explained, flicking on his lighter. "And I have so much more left to tell you."
Zoro looked away from the notebook so he could look into Sanji's eyes. "Cook, you didn't have to."
Sanji inhaled deeply, holding the smoke in his lungs and closing his eyes. He exhaled slowly, tilting his head back. "But I want to. It's the least I can do."
Zoro swiped the bottle and took a long drink. He set it down with a loud thunk. He glanced back at the book. "Shit."
Sanji tiredly slid his hand across his face, smiling wryly. He chuckled, feeling warm from the alcohol, cupping his cheek in his hand. "Right?" He tossed back a drink.
They passed the bottle back and forth while Zoro read Sanji's writing. The alcohol loosened Sanji up and made him feel lethargic. He crossed his arms on the bartop and slumped over, resting his chin on his arms and looking up at Zoro under his eyelashes. "If it doesn't make sense, I can't help you with that right now," he said, words starting to slur and his speech slowing.
Zoro, cheeks dusted with red, glanced down at Sanji and snickered. "Lightweight," he murmured, looking back down and turning the page. "S'fine."
"Mm." Sanji played with his cup-turned-ashtray, rolling the bottom ring along the bartop. He wanted to ask Zoro questions, but didn't have the presence of mind to ask anything more complex than, "So, whaddya think?"
"Let me finish."
Sanji huffed, laying his cheek against his arm. "You're the slowest reader ever," he grumbled.
"You've crossed so much out and added so much stuff in, it's hard to keep up, dumbass," Zoro retorted.
"Ah... Sorry 'bout that. Was going to clean it up when I was done, but..." He let the rest of his sentence hang in the air.
"But what?"
Sanji buried his face in his arms. "I don't want to lose you, Zozo," he said into his sleeves, his voice muffled.
"Zozo?" Zoro said incredulously.
"Shuddup. I'm trying to be honest with you, Marimo."
"Cook."
"Mmmm."
"Look at me."
Sanji slowly turned his head so his eye was peeking out at Zoro.
"Means a lot to me, you doing this," Zoro said. As he stared at Sanji, a look of realization spread across his face, reminding Sanji of the expression he wore when their relationship ended. "I know it can't be easy for you."
Sanji laughed humorlessly. "It's not."
"Well. Thanks."
"Yer welcome."
Zoro gently closed the book, sliding it towards Sanji. "I get the idea. You can show me the rest when you're ready."
Sanji nodded, the fabric of his coat brushing against his cheek. "Okay. I'll do that."
"And I think it's time you got in bed," Zoro said, dropping to his feet.
Sanji sat up slowly.
"Need any help?"
"No. No more help," Sanji said, sliding out of the barstool and onto his feet. The room spun around him until he got his bearings.
Zoro stared at him for a moment. "You know, Cook, you spend all this time taking care of the rest of us. It wouldn't kill you to let someone else take care of you for once."
Sanji shook his head emphatically, taking up the notebook and stashing it away. "Good night, Zoro," he said firmly.
Zoro picked up the bottle of sake and headed for the door. "Night, Cook."
Sanji stared at the empty space Zoro had occupied for a good minute before walking for the exit. He sighed, flipped the light off, and headed for the men's quarters to gather what he needed for a shower before bed, taking one last look at the stars when he stepped outside.
Sanji had always loved the idea of a grand gesture. How romantic, he'd think to himself in his most private of thoughts back on the Baratie, to show someone you loved them in the biggest way possible. He'd fantasized about finding someone special when he was younger–usually a woman because he didn't understand certain things about himself until after he hit puberty–and sweep them off their feet, his love proven pure and true.
But life wasn't made of grand gestures; it was made up of little gestures that occurred in the mundane. Like bringing Robin a cup of tea on cold evenings, listening to Usopp work out a problem because bouncing his ideas off someone else helped, watching over Zoro while he napped. Life was full of little gestures that were taken for granted because they weren't as dramatic as chasing someone to the train station and confessing your undying love to them. It was the little gestures that kept life going.
And maybe if Sanji had realized that earlier, he wouldn't have to rely on a grand gesture to win back Zoro's trust. And how did one perform a grand gesture for someone like Roronoa Zoro, a man seemingly immune to them and most romance in general? He couldn't throw himself into danger meant for Zoro–Sanji had tried that on Thriller Bark and Zoro had only chewed him out for it the next time they spoke. It turned out that a grand gesture for Zoro was the hardest one of all, one that required thought and effort on Sanji's part. It was easy to chase someone; it was something else entirely to examine his own psyche and offer himself up in a show of vulnerability and trust. Through this Sanji was forcing open his chest cavity, pulling out his heart, beaten and battered as it was, and holding it up to Zoro to accept or reject.
Here. It's yours. It always has been. I hope it's enough.
The ship was anchored next to a shallow reef per Luffy's orders. Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper were currently fishing over the side of the ship and Sanji was staring into the crystalline waters, a blue so crisp and inviting that he wanted to jump in and see the schools of fish swimming below the surface. Caught by this whim, Sanji kicked off his shoes and began to loosen his necktie. Usopp glanced over at him and caught him undressing.
"Uh, Sanji?" Usopp asked. "What are you doing?"
Sanji stripped down to his underwear and left his clothes in a pile at his feet. He stood on the railing, staring down at the clear blue below him, then looked at his crewmates and grinned at them briefly before leaping into the water. When he broke the surface and started treading water, he found more of the crew staring at him, but it was Zoro who caught his attention.
"Hey, no fair!" Luffy whined, undoubtedly pouting as he complained about how he wished he could swim like Sanji.
"Don't worry, Luffy!" Franky shouted, running out of Sanji's line of sight. "I've been working on a SUPER flotation device for all you Devil Fruit users!"
Zoro stared at Sanji for a few more moments before he followed Sanji's lead, pulling off his shirt. Usopp followed suit. "Sorry, Luffy!" he apologized to his boyfriend as he started slipping off the straps on his overalls.
Sanji laughed and floated onto his back, staring up at the sky as he let the waves gently rock him, feeling the same kind of peace he had when he'd stared up at the stars a couple weeks ago. He heard two splashes and when he lifted his head he saw Usopp and Zoro swimming towards him. Usopp laughed and plunged underwater, darting towards the reef and performing an underwater flip before kicking against the coral and shooting to the surface and performing a back stroke towards Sanji and Zoro. Sanji began treading water again and grinned at Zoro, who grinned back.
Nami appeared at the railing of the ship, having changed into a bikini, and stuck her tongue out at Luffy, who was still waiting on Franky. Nami stood on the railing and said, "Wait for me, Usopp," before diving gracefully into the ocean. She emerged from the water, pushing her red hair out of her face, then swam to Usopp's side and laid a kiss on the corner of his laughing mouth. And in that moment, surrounded by his friends, Zoro smiling at him, Sanji could watch Usopp and Nami's affection and not feel a dull ache in his chest. He simply enjoyed his time with his crewmates and felt overjoyed to share this moment with them.
Franky emerged, four pool floats looped on his arms. "YOW! Who wants to go swimming?"
"Franky, those look like regular swimming floats," Robin said, amusement in her voice.
"With motors!"
Luffy needed no further convincing, snatching a ring off Franky's arm, stripping off his shirt and flip flops, and fitting the ring onto himself before jumping into the ocean with a joyful "YAHOOOO!"
Chopper and Franky joined next, with Brook and Robin choosing to stay on the ship and sip tea while watching the rest of them have their fun. Sanji saw Zoro saying something to Luffy and took the opportunity to splash a large wave in his face. Spluttering, Zoro turned his gaze on Sanji, a fire in his eye as he returned the favor, grinning wildly. Laughing boisterously, Sanji engaged Zoro in a small splash war, his heart soaring to see Zoro smiling at him again.
Eventually it got easier to write, but not as easy as he wanted it to be. It didn't take him fifteen minutes to steel his nerves like it had that first day Sanji had started writing for Zoro, and that was progress that actually made him proud of himself. But Sanji still found himself taking breaks, working on breathing exercises like Zoro had taught him. In these moments Sanji closed his eyes and pictured the night sky spreading that healing light throughout his body; he imagined himself floating on his back in the ocean, gently rocked by the waves. When he needed that extra push to get just a little bit more writing done before bed, he pictured Zoro taking Wave Head up on his offer; when he didn't want a spike in his blood pressure, however, he returned to the night he first showed Zoro the notebook, the way Zoro looked at him as he realized the gravity of what Sanji was doing for him.
It required so much of Sanji to sit down and revisit the past. He'd wanted to compartmentalize when he left Whole Cake, shove the new memories in with the old memories and leave them to rot. They couldn't hurt him if he didn't think about them. But he wanted Zoro more and refusing to think about his past was what lost him in the first place.
Writing about his mother and her illness forced him back into the role he'd played as a young boy: a scared, helpless child, powerless to do anything as his loved one was taken from him. Sanji hadn't been thinking about her when he'd tried to take Zoro's place on Thriller Bark or when he'd agreed to be taken to Whole Cake, but all of this introspection gave him a new perspective. Sanji wasn't a helpless child anymore; he was cook to the future Pirate King, one of the strongest fighters on the Thousand Sunny, future captain of the Baratie. If he could lay down his life for his crewmates, then why wouldn't he?
But the Straw Hat Pirates were a crew, a team that worked together and helped each other, and Sanji needed to learn that he was just as much of a part of that crew as the rest of them, and relying on the others wasn't weakness. Even though he refused to talk, his crewmates were helping him, whether by offering advice or simply being there when he needed the company most.
He wasn't alone in the world anymore. Even if Zoro never could forgive him for what he'd done, Sanji no longer was that lonely little boy left to rot in a prison cell.
One day he grew tired of shutting himself up in the galley, writing until his hand grew tired, focusing on his breathing by himself. So he wandered off to find Zoro, who was up in the crow's nest, meditating.
Zoro stared at him when Sanji came through the hatch. Sanji stared back, slipping his hands into his pockets. He stared at the floor, shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Can we...?" he said softly. He looked up into Zoro's eye. "Can we try meditating together again?"
Zoro nodded, eye slipping back closed, exhaling slowly.
Staring at Zoro, watching him sit there and looking so peaceful, Sanji's heart swelled with emotion. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Sanji quietly crossed over to sit next to Zoro. Laying his palms on his knees, Sanji got one last look at Zoro and found himself wanting to lean over and lay a kiss on his lips. Releasing an exhale that sounded more like a sigh, Sanji turned his head forward and closed his eyes, resolving to finish his writing soon and to bring the final product for Zoro to read.
Sanji waited until Zoro had the night watch to bring his completed writing, edited and polished for a coherent, concise read. He quietly pushed the book into Zoro's hands, forcing himself to look Zoro in the eye. "I'll just leave this with you," he said. He put his hands in his pockets and headed for the exit. "I'm gonna go shower now."
"Cook."
Sanji stopped and looked over his shoulder, certain that Zoro could hear his heart pounding from across the room. "Yeah?"
"Thank you," Zoro said, his voice as soft as his features.
Sanji looked down at the floor, nodding, his face and his ears and his neck burning. "Yeah..."
Hands trembling with adrenaline and nerves, Sanji left the crow's nest and headed for the men's quarters to grab what he needed for his shower. Usopp had been right about leaving Zoro to read by himself; without alcohol to keep him calm or the immediate threat of Zoro going home with someone, Sanji couldn't bear to be in the same room as him as he read about Sanji's childhood and his version of events on Whole Cake Island. And given how much he'd written, Sanji might end up tearing up the crow's nest before Zoro was even halfway through with reading.
There was no going back now, Sanji realized as he undressed. Zoro would finally understand what an embarrassment he'd been before toughening up when he'd met Zeff and he would see how he'd rolled over on Whole Cake. How could Zoro understand? Zoro, who was lifting boulders before he hit puberty. Zoro, who was willing to cut off a limb or two without complaint when he felt that the situation called for it. Zoro had lost an eye training under Mihawk and treated it with as much seriousness as he did when losing an article of clothing. Oh well.
"They're just hands, dumbass," he could hear Zoro telling him when discussing how Big Mom and Vinsmoke had kept him on a leash with those cuffs on his wrists.
Sanji slumped against the bathroom wall as he stood under the running showerhead, forehead and arms resting against the cool wall while the water ran in rivulets down his back. Surely Zoro would look at him differently after he finished reading. Zoro would have reacted differently in Sanji's situation and would doubtlessly judge him accordingly. Hell, Zoro wouldn't have gone with Bege in the first place. He'd find a way to fight out of the situation and take Nami, Brook, and Chopper with him.
But Sanji could deal with the judgment if reading Sanji's notebook got Zoro to understand, to forgive him. It wouldn't take back what Sanji did, and for that he would always be sorry, but Sanji could deal with it all if this made them stronger together.
What Sanji needed to say to Zoro most of all wasn't written down in the notebook. That he would save for the next time he and Zoro spoke, whether it was tonight or tomorrow or three days from now. He didn't know how long Zoro would need to digest what he was reading, but Sanji would wait until Zoro was ready. He would look the man he loved in the eye when he told him what he should have long before Wano.
Sanji lay awake in his bunk long after he'd showered, relaxed in the bath, and turned in for the night. A chorus of men's snoring and mumbling and shifting sleep positions kept him company as he stared straight up into the darkness, eyes wide open. He couldn't sleep not knowing Zoro's reaction, but going to find Zoro before he finished wouldn't help him sleep any better, so Sanji groaned and rolled onto his side, grabbing a fistful of his sheets and pulling them up over his head, curling into a tight ball.
He stayed curled like that even as he sensed a familiar presence enter the room, heavy boots treading across the floorboards to his bunk. A hand laid itself upon his shoulder. "Cook."
Squeezing his eyes shut, Sanji sighed and unfurled his limbs, pulling the blanket off his head but staring at the wooden side of his bunk.
"Cook," Zoro said again. "Sanji. Look at me."
Sanji turned his head and saw Zoro's solid frame before him. Zoro's expression was unreadable as he started pulling at Sanji's blankets and said, "Upstairs. Now."
Swallowing, Sanji watched as Zoro turned and left the men's quarters, and he sighed and exited his bunk and followed Zoro up to the crow's nest.
They stood in the darkness, staring at each other. Sanji's heart rate picked up, hands slightly trembling as Zoro stared him down. If Zoro was going to tell him it was truly over, he was prepared. Well, not entirely prepared, as he'd put his heart on the line, but he was aware that this was how things could turn out.
Zoro closed the distance between them, grabbing at Sanji's shirt and almost violently pulling him towards him, their lips crashing together. Zoro brought a hand to the back of Sanji's neck, holding him close, and Sanji was too shocked to move, never mind respond in kind.
Zoro pulled away, hands still on Sanji. "I thought this was what you wanted, Cook."
"I–I do," Sanji muttered dumbly. "I just thought you'd want to talk more before–"
"Just shut up and kiss me, idiot cook," Zoro interrupted, voice low in his throat. "We can talk about it later."
And Sanji did. His hands went to Zoro's face, running his fingers through Zoro's short cropped hair, one hand cupping Zoro's cheek. He poured the weeks of longing and desperation he'd felt into this kiss, hooking one leg around Zoro. When the idiot didn't take the hint, Sanji, pulling away and panting, hissed in Zoro's ear, "Lift me up already, you bastard."
Zoro was only too happy to oblige, hoisting Sanji up as requested. Sanji saw Zoro grin in the dark as he carried him over to the nearby benches. Sanji's lips found Zoro's again when they were settled. Mouths connected, hands wandered, shirts were impatiently pulled off and tossed aside. Skin flushed as their bare chests pressed against each other, heaving as they breathed in time with one another.
Zoro's lips slowly moved their way to Sanji's neck. Sanji craned his neck while Zoro alternated between kissing and lightly sucking on his throat. His jaw went slack as a small groan made its way past his lips. Bliss, Sanji thought as he grinned up at the ceiling.
"Mm, Zoro," Sanji panted, rolling his hips against Zoro impatiently while Zoro continued his ministrations on the sensitive skin on his neck, one arm wrapped around Sanji's waist, toying with the waistband on Sanji's pajama pants with his free hand. The way Zoro could pull these little sounds out of Sanji was oh so desperately missed during their time apart.
Needing more, always needing more, Sanji ground his pelvis against Zoro, repeating a variation of "I missed you, god, I missed you so much," until Zoro growled against Sanji's skin, sound rumbling against his throat. "Oi. Less talk, more show," he instructed before biting down on the curve of Sanji's neck.
Sanji grinned wryly, chuckling deeply in his throat. "Gladly," he replied, his fingers in that familiar green hair grabbing hold and moving Zoro's head so he had access to his mouth again. Sanji kissed Zoro, hoping Zoro could sense the message Sanji felt with every heartbeat: I missed you, I missed you, I missed you.