Sanji can't believe it. He literally has the worst luck in the world. Not only does he manages to get paired with the one person he never wants to see again, but Zoro somehow managed to get hotter these past two years.
How in the hell is that even possible? But there he is, in all of his tan, muscular glory. Zoro has always had an athletic body, even when they were younger. But now, standing there only in a pair of basketball shorts, Sanji can see that Zoro is ripped. Every muscle is perfectly cut and accentuated, shifting under his skin as he breathes. His shoulders are wide, his hips narrow, and his tan skin shines with a golden sheen. Even the gnarled scar that cuts his body from left shoulder to the opposite hip doesn't take away from his attractiveness. It's the same with his face: Zoro has lost the roundness he had when he was younger, shedding his baby fat to reveal a sharp jaw, wide forehead, and straight nose. His green hair is longer, slicked back, and three golden ears dangle from his left ear. A long scar renders his left eye useless, but just like with his body, the scar does nothing to diminish Zoro's appeal. He has a lot more scars, but the only ones that look as bad as the ones on his face and chest, are two identical scars that wrap around his lower shins, almost as if someone had tried to cut his feet off.
"Is that for me?"
Sanji jumps, startled by Zoro's voice. It takes him a moment to realize that Zoro is talking about his coffee cup. He nods and hands it over, watching curiously as Zoro takes a small sip. "Ah, it's black," Sanji says, noticing the small frown on Zoro's forehead. "I didn't know how you liked it."
"Black is fine," Zoro says, surprisingly, and his brow smooths. "Did you make breakfast?"
Sanji is unnerved by the polite conversation, but…well, he and Zoro have only ever spoken twice, and both times they had traded insults. But they're more mature now, and maybe this mild-manner conversation is Zoro's way of extending an olive branch.
"Yes," Sanji answers, setting his own cup down on the small table they're going to have to share from now on. "I know how important it is for roommates to get along, so I thought I could make them as a sign of good faith. Or you know, whatever." Sanji turns to face the stove, hiding his face from Zoro. Shit, what is he supposed to talk about? Everything is so awkward.
"It smells really good."
Sanji glances at Zoro over his shoulder. The tiger is sitting down on the table, drinking his cup of coffee and lost in thought. He looks just like that time on the roof: aloof and uninterested. Sanji faces away again and prepares two plates, making sure they look as appetizing as they smell. He adds a couple of extra sausages for Zoro, and puts more roasted tomatoes on his plate. He grabs the two plates and balances them on one hand, and grabs the coffee pot with the other.
"More coffee?" Sanji asks, setting both plates on the table.
Zoro leans back and nods, holding his cup out for Sanji to pour. "Thanks."
Sanji only nods and sits down. He can feel the awkwardness in the room; it's so thick, he could take his butter knife and cut it. Sanji tries not to stare too much, but it's kind of hard when Zoro is eating with the same manners as an animal. Still, the tiger offered an olive branch and it would be stupid to yell at him and ruin it just because of the way he eats.
Sanji growls softly and hides his face by sipping his coffee. Who the fuck taught this tiger manners? Sanji tries to control himself, he really does, but when Zoro takes a bite of his sausage, frowns, and then proceeds to dump it in the gravy bowl and pick it back out with his fingers, Sanji breaks.
"Holy fucking shit, moss head, what the fuck is wrong with you?!" Sanji yells, smacking his hand away from the gravy. "What the fuck are you doing?"
Zoro glares at him, chewing angrily. Can one even chew angrily? Zoro is certainly doing it. "Eh? I'm getting gravy on my sausage, curly."
"No, you shit head!" Sanji yells. "You're supposed to pour the gravy!"
Zoro gives him an unimpressed glare. "Isn't it the same thing?"
"There's a shitty difference between getting sausage on the gravy and getting gravy on your sausage!"
"You're so fucking annoying," Zoro growls, and stuffs his mouth with bacon. "Just shut the fuck up."
"You're the one eating my food, marimo. If you want to keep eating, you better learn some fucking manners," Sanji snarls.
"This is shit food," Zoro says, but he takes another bite of bacon and grins at Sanji.
It takes him a moment, but he realizes that Zoro is joking with him. He likes it. Sanji stares dumbly as the tiger keeps eating, licking his fingers and lips as if afraid of missing anything. Was he joking the last time, too? Sanji growls in annoyance. This fucking tiger is the most annoying person he has had the displeasure of meeting.
"You're an ass," Sanji snaps, returning to his own food.
"And you fish for compliments. If you already know your food is great, why ask?" Zoro shrugs.
Sanji looks up at the tiger, frowning. "Usually, I'm satisfied when people finish the meal I prepared. But when they spit out, the message is pretty clear, don't you think?"
To his surprise, Zoro hesitates and looks away guiltily. "I, uh…sorry about that. I was in a bad mood, and I took it out on you. I did finish the steak though. It was…pretty good."
Sanji looks away, feeling his heart thump loudly. This is not good. "That's okay. I kind of never thanked you for saving my life—even if it was you who startled me and almost made me fall."
"You were the idiot sitting on the ledge," Zoro snaps, back to his usual self. "And it's your own fault for not noticing me. I was right there."
"Ugh, whatever, marimo," Sanji sighs. "Let's just drop it and start over. I don't know about you, but I don't want to spend the next two years fighting with you. I don't want to get expelled for killing an endangered species."
Zoro smiles, showing off his sharp teeth. "As if you could, shit cook."
"Just eat your disgusting sausage, moss head," Sanji says, dropping out of the argument. Zoro shrugs and returns to his food, eating enthusiastically. Sanji runs his index finger around the rim of his coffee cup, watching the tiger.
Maybe, this isn't the worst thing that could've happened.
"I need to change rooms."
Nami looks up from her textbook, arching an eyebrow as Zoro enters her room and flops down on the couch. He looks anxious, an emotion she's not used to seeing in the usual stoic man. Her roommate, Kaya, glances at Zoro then raises an eyebrow at Nami. She's clearly thinking the same thing.
"And why are you telling me?" Nami asks, returning to her book. Unless it's about money, she has no need to pry into Zoro's business.
"You have your grubby little hands in every department of this school. Don't tell me you can't make that happen," Zoro snaps, glaring at her. Asking favors from Nami is dangerous—and expensive—business, but he has no other choice. Zoro knows his control is admirable, but Sanji has always been his Achilles' heel.
"I can. But it's gonna cost you," Nami shrugs, still not very interested. At least, until Zoro speaks again.
"Fine. How much?"
She looks up, frowning. Zoro has never parted with his money that easily. It's not that he needs it, or that he's particularly attached to it—after all, Zoro comes from old money and it's not lacking in that department—but he usually puts up more of a fight than this. Most of the time, it's to annoy her. Actually, all of the time it's to annoy her. That Zoro is willing to swallow his pride and ask for help, not to mention the fact that he won't even make one disparaging comment, is the incentive Nami needs to start meddling.
Zoro inaudibly groans when Nami puts her book down. That does not mean good news for him.
"Why do you want to change rooms?"
Zoro shrugs and looks away. He knows Nami will get the information out of him, but he won't make it that easy. His pride won't take the blow. "Why do you care? You're getting paid either way."
"My dear Zoro, you have never been good at negotiating, have you?" Nami asks, her voice patronizing. "The fact alone that is you who is asking to move—instead of, say, scaring the unfortunate bastard paired to you away—is enough to warrant my curiosity. Now, let's say this guy is annoying: the fee to get him away won't be that high. After all, if I name a price that you don't like, you can always choose to just put up with him. But if this guy is more than that—an old enemy, an old friend, someone you can't stand seeing day after day—then, my friend, the fee can become much higher. Do you understand my position?"
"I understand you're a bitch," Zoro growls.
"Don't make me take away the family and friends discount."
"You have such a thing?!"
Nami doesn't reply. Instead, she taps her nails on the hard cover of her book, staring at Zoro with an unimpressed gaze that tells the swordsman that she knows he's gonna put out and she's not keen on waiting. It is an expression Zoro is used to, unfortunately.
Kaya suppresses a smile and takes a sip of her tea. She does enjoy the control Nami has over her friends. She wonders if she can perhaps learn a bit of it herself. It can turn out to be quite useful, especially since her intended target has nowhere near the strength of will Zoro possesses.
"My roommate is Sanji," Zoro spits out. "I can't…I can't have him around, Nami."
Nami hides her surprise well. Despite their arguments and animosity, she considers Zoro to be one of her closest friends. She would give her life for the tiger and knows very well that Zoro would extend the same courtesy to her. She does not enjoy seeing him in pain, at least not when she's not the one inflicting said pain. And she's well aware of the problems between Zoro and Sanji. She has yet to meet her own intended mate—she doubts she ever will—so she can't understand how Zoro feels.
But when the tiger looks at her, his one reminding eye pleading, she remembers his suffering. His scars are proof of that. She wonders if Zoro remembers that time of his life like she does: is Zoro aware of the fear his friends felt every time they watch him get cut down? Does he know of the scent of sadness, of the utterly defeated glint in his eye that until moments ago was as much a part of Zoro as his green hair? She can't honestly think of anything worse for Zoro than being away from Sanji again. But if they stay together, if Zoro does indeed snap and hurt Sanji—will that be worse? But what if Zoro doesn't? What if the two stay together, what if this coincidental closeness is the push Zoro needs to make his move and claim his mate?
It's a gamble. The stakes have never been higher, but then again, Nami has never lost.
"Too bad. I can't help you," Nami says. She opens her book and hides her eyes on the printed paragraphs as she feels Zoro's gaze on her. She can smell his surprise. There's a hint of hurt in there, and the longer the silence last, the stronger the scent of betrayal gets.
"Nami, this isn't a joke," Zoro tries again. "I really need this. I'm asking you, as a friend."
"No, can't do, kitten."
"W-why?"
"Don't feel like it," Nami shrugs. She's sure not to meet Zoro's gaze. This would be a lot easier if she were sure of her decision. But she only knows Zoro's side of things—what if the tiger is right? What if Sanji really is afraid of him? Well, if that's the case, she's sure Sanji himself will seek a room transfer. If not—well, she's already rolled the dice, she can't back out now.
"Thanks for nothing, Nami," Zoro growls, startling her. "You know, I had you read all wrong."
Nami looks up and bites her lip as she watches the tiger stalk out of her dorm room. He slams the door shut behind him hard enough that the doorknob shakes and loosens.
"Nami, what are you doing?" Kaya murmurs.
"I'm placing my bets," Nami replies, returning to her book once more. I only hope the odds are on my side.
Any hope that had blossomed in Sanji at the sight of the tiger quickly disappears as he's made of aware of the fact that Zoro is avoiding him. It's not easy to live with somebody and not see him once, which clues him in to the effort Zoro is putting to not talk to him. The nail is only deeper hammered when Sanji runs into the green-haired tiger at the Merry Go Coffee shop, and the tiger immediately leaves without his order—despite already having paid.
"You Ex?" the pretty barista asks, giving Sanji an understanding gaze.
"No," Sanji replies, smiling despite his curt answer. The girl takes the hint and quickly prepares his drink. Sanji leaves a bigger tip than usual for his rudeness. His coffee is slightly bitter, despite the three spoons of sugar he saw the girl dump in the cup.
He runs into Zoro again in their own apartment, catching the tiger as he's making his way back into his room. Sanji blocks his path, but Zoro simply turns away and steps out—in only his boxer briefs. He burns his eggs slightly and the bacon comes out crispier than intended. It doesn't matter, since it tastes like dirt in his mouth.
The third time he runs into the walking moss it's in the University's cafeteria. Classes have already started, which only makes it easier for Zoro to avoid him, since they're in different departments. But Sanji is not one to beg, so he hasn't exactly been stalking the tiger. Their run-in is entirely coincidental, and Sanji sees the tiger tense in pre-flight mode until Sanji gives him a wide berth and sits on a table at the other end of the room.
He can't help the few covert gazes he sends the other man. He is sitting in a rather large group, most of whom looks familiar. Sanji is able to recognize the long-nosed Usopp, as well as the red-haired cat. To his surprise, he sees the unusual reindeer despite knowing the boy is too young to be in college. There are a couple of other people in the group, but Sanji isn't too sure whether he recognizes them or not.
Zoro is not actively participating in the conversation, but the others don't keep him out. Usopp asks him something, and Zoro replies with a frown. The reindeer cuts in, and Zoro smiles and pats his hair. He looks like an older brother. Sanji can't help smiling softly, surprised by the soft touch of the tiger. His expression immediately sours when the redhead leans in close to Zoro, whispering something in his ear. Zoro frowns and rolls his eyes, but he doesn't push the redhead away when she practically climbs into his laps and proceeds to kiss him passionately.
Sanji jumps to his feet, cursing when his tray clatters on the ground and draws the attention of half the students. He keeps his eyes down as he quickly picks up the tray and hurries out of the cafeteria. He can feel eyes on him, but he doesn't turn around.
He doesn't know why he's so surprised. It makes sense that Zoro would be dating someone. The tiger probably is not lacking in offers, and the red-head is a feline like him. It's the closest Zoro can get to his own species, unless by some miracle he happens to meet another Xiamen Tiger. And she's pretty, too. Long shiny hair, a perfectly voluptuous figure, a petite stature compared to the large tiger—they make the perfect couple.
It's mid-October and Sanji decides to head down to the gym late at night. He usually goes in the mornings, but one of his professors switched the class hour to seven in the morning, and Sanji missed his chance. The machines in the main building are full, but Sanji is not one to do weight-lifting, so he bypasses them and goes to the sparring rooms towards the back.
The sound of wood hitting wood stops him, and curious by nature, he opens the door and peeks in.
The scent of sweat, adrenaline, and steel instantly floods his senses and his vision momentarily darkens before he takes a hold of his instincts and suppresses them. He already knows who's inside the room, but that doesn't stop him from seeking green-hair as his eyes sweep the room.
Zoro is in the middle of the room, dressed only in black loose pants. There are two wooden swords in his hands, and Sanji watches in fascination as he trains against the wooden dummy. Despite his large body, he moves with a grace and agility that Sanji would envy, if he didn't possess the same. His muscles shift under perfectly tanned skin, his sweat giving him a soft shine. There is unmeasurable, raw power in every movement, but Sanji can see that Zoro is in perfect control of his abilities. But the most striking feature is his face: the absolute focus and determination in his gaze, the deep furrow of his eyebrows, the red glint of his eyes. Like this, he looks more beast than human, and Sanji can't help but find the beauty in his wildness.
"Got lost, curly?"
Sanji blinks and straightens up at the sound of Zoro's voice. When the swordsman turns to look at him, his expression is annoyed. Sanji scowls and crosses his arms. "Nah, just wondering where the smell of kitten litter was coming from. Should've known it was you."
"What's that supposed to mean, cub?"
Sanji rolls his eyes and takes a step inside the room, moving his hands to his pockets. "So you're a swordsman, huh. A dying form, if you ask me."
"Then it fits me like a glove, wouldn't you say?" Zoro's smirk looks more like a snarl, the hostility clear in his voice. "A man that spends his days in a kitchen has no say in the ways I train my body. You'll grow fat if you don't find something to work yours, shit cook."
"Fat? I bet I could kick your ass any time of the week, marimo," Sanji scoffs. "Or did you forget the time I knocked you flat on your ass?"
Zoro growls and the grip on his swords tightens. "That was luck. I had little control over—."
"I didn't picture you as one for excuses," Sanji interrupts. "Do you wanna try your luck against my legs again, or are you too out of control?" Sanji mocks, raising his left leg in front of him until his knee is level with his crouched shoulders.
Zoro's eyes run over his body—Sanji tries to shake off the strange feeling those eyes give him—and then grins. "Don't come crying to me after you lose, shit cook."
Sanji copies the grin and rushes forward, striking out with his right leg. He's not surprised when Zoro blocks it, but wood has never been enough to stop his kicks, and his grin widens when he hears the telltale creak of wood splintering.
Zoro jumps back and Sanji gives him a moment to study his now broken swords. "You know, these are school property," Zoro says conversationally.
"You were the one who put them against me," Sanji shrugs. "Unless you find something stronger, I'm not sure you're going to be able to defeat me."
"Alright," Zoro says easily and Sanji watches him with narrow eyes as he walks to his discarded bag. It looks like a duffel bag, though this one is longer and thinner. When Zoro unzips the bag, Sanji is surprised to see three swords. Sanji doesn't know much about swords, and other than the color—one black, one red, and one white—he can't tell the difference between the three.
"Three swords? Are we overcompensating for something?" Sanji taunts as Zoro picks up the black and red swords, leaving the white one in the bag.
"If two are better than one, then it makes sense for three to be better than two," Zoro answers, unsheathing his swords. The blades glint dangerously, but Sanji doesn't back out.
"Only to your moss brain, marimo," Sanji snorts, and once again, starts the fight. He doesn't flinch when the swords strike against his legs, despite the wicked glint they give off. He can tell that they are sharp—perhaps even sharper than his own knives—but Zoro strikes with the flat of his blade. It still hurts like a motherfucker, and Sanji laughs when he realizes that Zoro might be able to keep up with his attacks.
Finally, someone that seems to be on his level.
Zoro looks as elated as he feels, and Sanji can't help but show off a little. He stretches and bends his body as he evades Zoro's blades, his legs strike with deadly accuracy and overwhelming strength—and Zoro gives it as good as he takes: his body is not just for show, and when those arms wrap around Sanji's waist and tackle him to the ground, he can't even complain at the loss. He snarls and bares his teeth at the tiger, because even in defeat he's not compliant, and Zoro answers with deep-belly growl that would've had Sanji cowering if he were younger and less in control of his inner fox.
"Good job, marimo," Sanji says, trying to catch his breath as Zoro towers over him, his large hands holding Sanji's wrists down. "Think you can let me up?" Zoro's eyes narrow, and—very deliberately—takes a deep sniff. Sanji blushes and bucks up. "What the fuck? Why are you sniffing me, idiot?!" he demands.
Zoro rolls his eyes and gets off of him, rolling to the side until his laying down on the mats with his hands pillowing his head. "Your ears flatten in fear, but you don't smell like fear."
Sanji rolls his eyes, too, and settles next to Zoro, a foot of space between them. His right hands goes below his head, but his left hand presses down on his stomach, wishing the butterflies would just leave him alone. He doesn't need these feelings. "It's not fear. When my ears lower, it can also mean submission. But that's more of an animal instinct than what I really feel. Just because my fox is telling me to roll on my back for your tiger every time you growl doesn't mean I will. I have more pride than that."
Zoro hums quietly. The silence that settles between them is not awkward, it's not oppressive. It's just silence, and Sanji finds himself almost nodding off before Zoro's voice wakes him.
"When were younger…in the basketball court—that wasn't really me," Zoro begins, and for some reason, Sanji is glad than he can't see Zoro's expression. "I was…I had just gone into rut, and when I sensed another predator—."
"You reacted aggressively," Sanji interrupts, his eyes widening in realization.
"I tried to apologize," Zoro goes on, speaking quickly as if ripping off a band-aid. "I went to the Baratie, but they said you were busy at the back."
Sanji remembers that day. He hid in the kitchen until Carne told him Zoro had left. If he had walked out…how different would his relationship with Zoro be right now? He's never felt a regret as deep as the one he feels now.
"Oh." It's stupid, but it's all he can say.
"Yeah."
Sanji is plagued with a list of possibilities. Every single way their relationship could've gone if he'd just acted differently. If he hadn't yelled back at Zoro, if he had walked out into the dining floor that day instead of hiding in the back. If he had confronted Zoro that day he found him lost outside of his apartment. He had so many chances—and now, he has the tiger living a couple of feet away from him. And things are playing the exact same way it always did: with Zoro and Sanji as strangers that somehow managed to meet.
He thinks of the red-haired cat, Zoro's girlfriend. If he thinks hard enough, he can almost remember her in the basketball courts. Naomi or Vivian…her name doesn't come easily. He can't hope to have a relationship with Zoro like the one she shares with him, but he can at least choose not to be just another random face. He's never understood his own fascination with the tiger, and his curiosity is screaming at him to take the chance to know him better.
Sanji sits up and looks at Zoro, smiling when he sees the nervous shift of his eyes as the tiger tries to hold his gaze. "You know, ignoring the problem won't make it go away."
Zoro groans and finally looks away. "Shut up," he mutters. "It's not my fault that our whole relationship is littered with misunderstandings."
Sanji shakes his head at the word relationship. It doesn't fit at all. "How different do you think things would be if you hadn't been in rut that day?"
Zoro cocks his head and hums thoughtfully. "Well, I would still find you annoying. You did throw a ball at my head. But I wouldn't have attacked you."
"The ball thing was an accident," Sanji snaps. "And be serious."
"I don't know," Zoro shrugs. "I'm not a psychic."
"Guess not," Sanji sighs. He takes out a cigarette from his pocket and lights it. Zoro shifts but doesn't say anything as the smell of nicotine spreads around the room. The drug works to calm down Sanji's rapidly beating heart, and he tries to keep his expression blank as he stands up and dusts his slacks. He turns to Zoro and tries to ignore the way the moonlight highlight his sharp features. "Sanji Black," he says, extending his arm out to Zoro. "Can't say it's a pleasure to meet you."
Zoro stares at his hand, and for a moment Sanji thinks he's going to snap it away, but then he grins and takes it, allowing Sanji to help him to his feet. "Zoro Roronoa. Likewise, shit cook."
Sanji lifts an eyebrow and hides his hands in his pockets as Zoro picks up his swords and checks them for scratches. "Roronoa? Why does that name sound familiar?"
Zoro shrugs and sheaths his swords, satisfied that Sanji's legs didn't harm them too much. He will have to sharpen them again, though. "Maybe you heard it in passing?"
"No," Sanji murmurs, thinking. It will bother him for ages if he doesn't figure out. Zoro puts his swords back in the bag and picks it up. The rustling sound they make jog Sanji's memory, and he suddenly has an image of a pretty, pink-haired woman in his mind. "Roronoa! Isn't that the name of that woman who married Mihawk Dracule?"
"You mean my mother?" Zoro snorts. "Kind of obvious, isn't it, idiot?"
Sanji gasps and kicks at Zoro's shin. "I'm the idiot? How was I supposed to know that your father is the Dracule Mihawk?! No wonder you're a swordsman. Isn't he like the best in the world?"
"Yeah," Zoro answers. "But I will take the title from him soon."
Sanji doesn't say anything. It's clear to him that this is something important to Zoro, something he won't share to a person he's just met. "I thought your father was human," Sanji says to change the topic. "Didn't you go to the Baratie with two humans when you were younger?"
Zoro lifts an eyebrow, surprised that Sanji remembers that, but the cook doesn't look his way, still guiding the way to their dorm room. "That was my sensei and his daughter. I was close with Kuina, so she invited me to celebrate her birthday."
"Was? You guys aren't anymore?"
"She passed away," Zoro answers, an air of finality in his voice. Sanji doesn't press. Instead, he changes topics once more, and the conversation keeps flowing.
They talk, even though they don't need to. It's not that their silences are uncomfortable, it's just that their conversations are better. They argue, of course—Sanji doubts he's ever going to meet anyone as contradictory as Zoro. The man rubs him in all the wrong ways, yet he can't get enough of it—and they banter. Zoro pulls when Sanji pushes, but somehow it works. He doesn't realize that they've made it home and are still talking in their living room until Zoro stops the conversation to yawn, which of course causes Sanji to yawn.
"Holy shit, it's three in the morning," Sanji gasps, looking at his almost-dead phone through bleary eyes. "I have an early class in the morning!"
"Ha, I don't have one until three," Zoro grins, blinking sleepily. He rubs at his eye with the back of his hand and suddenly he looks so much like a cat that Sanji wants to rub his ears. Whoa, he really needs to sleep.
"Fuck you," Sanji says, just to say something. "Lucky bastard. Wake up at seven so you can eat breakfast with me."
"What? Hell no," Zoro grumbles. "That's way too early. I need naps, shit cook."
"C'mon, it's just gonna be half an hour. You can go back to bed after," Sanji coaxes, stretching his foot out until he can rub at Zoro's shoulders. Maybe it's the fact that they're practically sleep already, but neither one complains. In fact, Zoro grabs his ankle as he leans more heavily into Sanji's foot, his thumbs pressing on either side of his Achilles tendon in a way that feels too good.
"Don't wanna. Just skip your class," Zoro groans, and his eyes are already closed.
"Don't wanna," Sanji copies, just to annoy the tiger, but when Zoro doesn't reply, Sanji moves his foot off Zoro's shoulder, and he falls on top of Sanji. Sanji groans when Zoro's heavy weight lands on his lower body, but the tiger only grumbles and makes himself comfortable, wrapping his arms around Sanji's waist.
"You're heavy, marimo," Sanji mumbles, his blinking too slow as he stares down at Zoro. His conscious is trying to tell him something important, but most of his brain is asleep already. All of his strength is going into speaking, and he's not entirely too sure of the words he's saying. His feet are wrapped around Zoro, hooked together at the ankles and resting on the small of his back, right above his tail. He kicks off his shoes, and when he returns his feet to Zoro's back, Zoro's tail wraps around one of his ankles.
"You're comfy," Zoro mumbles into his stomach.
"We gotta go to bed," Sanji slurs, his hands going to Zoro's hair. It's surprisingly silky
"Yeah."
Neither of them move, though, and it isn't long before they're both asleep.