Chapter Text
It wouldn't be his first off-the-books favor—not by a long shot—so Barto agreed without missing a beat when Luffy said, “Keep this between us, ‘kay?”
It didn't hit him until the sauna was two hallways behind them, what that meant: he and Luffy had a secret.
A guy could get used to that.
He rode the high of Luffy laying even this small thing in his hands while he was led through the Sunny's guts and back up to the deck. Barto felt good, great actually, and great backflipped into giddy when Luffy invited him to the galley for a snack.
These days, he didn’t consider himself a reward motivated guy. Fishing for gratitude debts was a habit he left back on land. He did what he wanted now because he wanted to or because the right person asked, but Sanji’s cooking wasn’t the kind of payment Barto would dream of turning down.
He was starving, for starts. He’d skipped lunch to help Luffy out, and working down in the sauna got his appetite wet. But it wasn’t just that. It was nice in their galley; cozy, almost homey. It reminded Barto of how his grandma's kitchen felt.
The cook was no nonsense when it came to prep and plating, but he laid food down like he was serving his own heart up. Barto would settle for coffee and crackers, if that was all Sanji had, but he doubted it would be even before Luffy started rattling off all the pastries the cook had been playing around with.
It made Barto’s stomach grumble, and that made Luffy laugh. The little monster spent the rest of the whole, slow walk being a tease. Even though he was hungry, too, once they reached the deck, Luffy lost his hustle. He led Barto to the galley the long way, wrapped up in talking.
Barto let him, not trying very hard to get a word in. He liked listening to Luffy, liked how he told stories, hopping from biscuits to Robin’s book to Nami’s new haircut. There was a throughline, probably, but Barto wasn’t fast enough to find it. After a while, he stopped trying and just let Luffy drag him along.
It was mid-afternoon by the time they made it, and Barto’s stomach felt like someone had closed their fist around it and squeezed. When he smelled fresh bread and something sweet, he made a sound that would’ve been embarrassing if Luffy’s growling stomach hadn’t eclipsed it.
He let Barto into the galley, pushing him from behind and using him like a shield as he whined out for his cook. “Sanjiii...”
“Out,” the cook barked from his prep station, not even turning around. “I’m busy.”
“But—”
“Busy,” he repeated, his knife hand rocking quickly. He was chopping up vegetables like he hoped they could feel it, puffing smoke out of an open port window.
Luffy pawed Barto’s back in frustration. Barto went stiff, stopping so suddenly that Luffy scuffed his heels. Luffy mumbled an apology then peeked around Barto’s side. He didn’t move his hands. They stayed braced on Barto’s back, fussing and wringing and kneading as he tried again.
“C’mon, we’re hungry!”
That caught Sanji’s attention. “We?” His knife stalled and he glanced back. “Oh, hey Barto. Didn’t hear you back there. Want something?”
“Uh…” Barto forced himself to think about his empty gut instead of Luffy. “Yea, sure. If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” He laid down his knife. “Anything for a guest. And, hm,” he wiped his hands on his apron, “I guess since you're here, Luffy, it'd be rude to exclude you.”
“Yes!” Luffy darted out from behind Barto and flopped down at the table. “Thanks, San—”
“But,” the cook interrupted sharply, “you’re only getting two biscuits. Dinner’s being served early.”
Luffy cocked his head. “What for?”
“Traffy's coming up. Says he’s worked some things about porting out and wants to talk about them after everyone eats.” Sanji pointed to Barto with the stub of his cigarette. “You should stay. He’ll want you to hear it too, and you’ll get some dinner out of it. Sound good?”
“Yea, cook. If it’s good by you.”
“Wouldn’t’ve offered otherwise.” He nodded to the table. “Grab a seat. I’ll tide you boys over. And how about coffee? Got some keeping warm. Let me just…ach, where'd I leave the cream?”
He served them quickly, pouring their drinks as they tore through sticky biscuits. Luffy wolfed his portion down and licked the plate clean while Barto was still chewing. He tried begging Sanji for more, but the cook stuck to his guns, saying Luffy could have a couple after dinner—if he canned it now.
It worked like a charm. Luffy snapped his greedy mouth shut and didn’t make another peep until nearly dinner. He sipped his coffee, polite as a peach, and let his mind wander off somewhere while Sanji whirled through prep work and Barto made small talk.
Barto didn’t eat with the Straw Hats often. He didn’t do much with them often, actually. Most of the time, their crews were a sea or two away. They kept in touch, and if a job needed doing then Barto was the first in line, but he could count on one hand all the times they’d been together over the last few years.
So he was glad that Trafalgar had suggested talking business after dinner. He would’ve hated to waste a minute of the rare invitation trying to think about something as mind numbing as docking. He wasn’t the biggest fan of the doc, but Barto could admit that the guy had his moments.
Sanji rolled the meal out slowly, starting with hot tea and sake that everyone chatted over while he divvied up soup. He laid the table while they slurped it, filling it up with platters heaped with spiced rice, meat, and fried vegetables and cramming in pots of butter and stewed fruit wherever they fit.
It all smelled so good that Barto almost felt sick, knowing even before getting started that he’d overeat. Which he did, but so did everyone. Even Law, who Barto knew was picky, filled and emptied his plate a couple of times.
Sanji danced around while they ate, refilling glasses and clearing empty platters, plugging and filling up the sink to prep for wash duty. He didn’t sit down himself until everyone else was done gorging, which seemed to be the unofficial signal of the end of the meal.
While the cook picked at the nearest plate of leftovers, Zoro poured him a drink. Sanji drained half of it in one parched gulp. Zoro refilled it without being asked while the cook wiped his mouth on his hand, earning a grunted thanks before Sanji angled toward Law.
“So,” he said, licking fish sauce off his fingers, “about this island we’re heading to…”
The last of the side conversations trailed off. Everyone—even Luffy, who hadn’t stopped yapping even while his mouth was full—gave their attention to Trafalgar.
“Yea,” Nami said, propping her elbows on the table, “what’s the news? Shouldn’t we be arriving soon?”
“If our course stays smooth,” he allowed, “then yes. Another day and a half should do it.” He took a sip off the top of his sake. “Which is why I wanted to go ahead and sort this out.”
He shifted and dug a hand deep in his coat pocket. Barto had to scoot to give him room, crowding up against Luffy, who worked an arm around Barto’s waist to keep it from getting crushed between them.
His fingers slipped under Barto’s coat instead of over, tickling and cool, and Barto choked on a squeal. He went stiff as a board, but if Luffy noticed, it didn’t make him pull his arm back. If anything, he dug his gnawed-on nails deeper in.
Barto chewed his tongue raw, trying not to think about how nice it felt to have Luffy’s hand running over his ribs. He patted Barto like a dog without seeming to notice it was happening, more interested in what Trafalgar was doing than in his own hand.
Law pulled out what he was looking for: a thick fold of parchment that he tossed to Nami. While she smoothed the creases out, Chopper and Robin stacked plates and cups up to make room.
“Oh!” She laid it out and flattened it, hunching over to read. “Is this a current map?”
Trafalgar’s mouth twitched into a smile. “It's possible that something rather drastic happened within the last year or so.”
Nami smirked back at him. “Factoring that out.”
“It’s current. Go on, look it over.” Nami didn’t need telling twice. She nearly pressed her nose to it, not even hearing when Law said, “Keep it, actually, if you want. I have another.”
“Thank you,” Robin answered for her. “We’ll add it to the library.”
The rest of the table leaned forward, reading what they could. Barto had a decent vantage, almost directly across from the navigator, though he had to squint and concentrate to read upside down.
Urchin Island, as it was called, was part of an archipelago. A few lines of information about the other islands were scrawled under the name. He glossed over them, not really caring about places they weren’t going. He was more interested in the notes about currents and the island's weird coastline. It was jagged all the way around, the whole landmass ringed in spikes.
“Funny shape,” he muttered.
“Yea,” Nami drawled, her eyes darting back and forth from the map scale. “Not a problem for smaller ships, probably, but with our sizes, I’m guessing we won’t have the option of pulling up to the beach.”
“You’d be right,” Law said, leaning over the table. He tapped a finger against the western shore, pointing to a spot where it looked like one of the spines had been snapped off. “Sloops and the like can tie off where they please, but this is the only port for ships of size. It’s more spacious than this makes it seem, so we shouldn’t have any technical issues. However, that does mean we’ll have to cough up docking fees.”
Nami frowned. “How much?”
“More than usual, given that this is a local festival month. Prices for everything have gone up across the board, but,” he held a hand up, cutting Nami off as she started to argue, “you’ll be happy to hear that lodging is taken care of.”
“Taken care of,” Zoro repeated. “As in?”
“Free. I cashed in a favor.” When the swordsman’s brow quirked, Law added, “It won't be luxurious. We'll be sleeping four or five to a room, but the bedrolls will be clean and we’ll be fed and watered. With a few hours’ notice, we’ll also be allowed to use the host’s private bathhouse. What’s more, they’ve graciously agreed to house us for two weeks.”
“Two weeks?!” Luffy leaned around Barto, practically falling into his lap. The hand that wasn’t plastered to Barto’s side latched onto his thigh. “Oh man, how’d you pull that off, Torao?”
Trafalgar glanced aside, opened his mouth, then clicked it shut again. He took an uncomfortably long look at how Luffy was sitting. Barto flushed from his cheeks to his chest, watching Law watch Luffy’s fingers grip him.
“It’s like I said,” Law responded eventually, “I cashed in a favor.”
Luffy snickered, not worried about how he was sardined against Barto, or about what Law must be thinking, or anything at all. Figuring he was worried enough for both of them, Barto risked looking around the table, relieved to see that no one else was paying attention.
“Must’ve been a pretty big one,” Luffy said, fishing for a story that, by the look on Law’s face, he wasn’t going to get.
“As they go.” Trafalgar looked away from them, addressing the crew. “Two weeks is longer than usual for a restocking trip, but opportunities like this don’t come up often. We aren’t under any obligation to, but I suggest we consider riding the time out.”
Everyone—except Barto, who finished his in one pull when Luffy sat back—nursed their drinks as they thought it over.
“I certainly wouldn’t mind,” Robin said, speaking up first. “I was hoping to have more than a couple of hours to look around town, anyway.”
“Me too. Better for haggling,” Sanji added between bites of cold fish. “With a little more time to shop, we should be able to avoid price gouging.”
“Private bathhouse, huh?” Nami sighed dreamily. “That does sound nice.”
They went around like that for a while, picking out things they’d like to do. No one had any objections to hanging around, if it really was free. Trafalgar assured them it was—he knew the hosts and trusted them—and before all their drinks were dry, it was decided that they’d stay the full two weeks.
That settled, Sanji hopped back up and started gathering plates, stacking them up and lining them along his arm.
“Get cleaning or get out,” he said. “Kitchen’s closed, but the lawn is open. I’ll bring cocoa up later for whoever is still around.” He caught sight of Luffy pouting and rolled his eyes. “Yes, captain, and biscuits. Any more requests? No? Good. Get moving.”
The galley cleared out except for Zoro, who got roped into helping with dishes. Everyone else followed Luffy up to the deck. Most of them fell behind and strolled as they talked, but Barto tripped along right behind Luffy, catching his toes on his heels, feeling dreamy and a little unreal again.
He slipped the hold Luffy had on his waist when they stood up from the table, but whatever had gotten into him, Luffy wasn’t over it yet. His hand was clamped around Barto’s wrist, fingers threaded all through his coat’s cuff feathers. They were sunk down to the knuckle, worked in deep, and moving. As Luffy petted them—petted him—Barto felt like he was bleeding.
“Got a thing for birds, boss?” he tried to joke, but it came out shaky.
“Huh?”
“My coat. What, you wanna pluck it?”
Luffy laughed low in his throat. “That wouldn’t be very nice.” He flexed his hand, grip going incredibly tight. “Hm, can I borrow it, though? Just while we’re on the deck. I wanna… hey, you’re staying, right? For cocoa?” He glanced back, showing Barto a grin. “Sanji makes it the best. See, he grinds the spices up, toasts ‘em, lets the milk steep. And you’d think it’d be cold, right, after an hour, but it’s actually…”
And just like that, he was spinning out again, getting further and further away from the question that he hadn’t even given Barto a chance to answer. But Barto knew what he would’ve said, what he would say when Luffy got back around to it.
He could borrow it, yeah, sure, please, for as long as he wanted.