Chapter Text
“Sanji?”
Sanji hums softly as he turns to look over his shoulder, carefully maneuvering a heated frying pan and dripping spatula within his grip. Luffy’s on his 10th plate and counting, and he’ll be damned if he gives up before his bottomless pit of a captain eats his fill.
Nami meets his gaze with wide hazel eyes and a soft flush to her cheeks, an incredibly endearing look, perhaps a side effect of whatever she has in her cup. The navigator tucks a strand of blazen orange hair behind her ear, and the sight nearly knocks Sanji off his heels.
She’s making it very hard not to drop everything and give her the attention she rightfully deserves.
“Just thought you should know Luffy’s out getting some air!” Nami comments idly, moving to stand beside him as he works. Though he isn’t too sure why she’s telling him this, he can’t help but raise an eyebrow at that. Luffy? Stepping away from food? It’s a little hard to believe.
He turns around to see for himself, and the scene that greets him is hectic, to say the least. Usopp is slammed, slurring his words as he’s practically laying on top of Mosshead—who doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest—while Robin and Chopper are chatting away over the remaining slices of ‘wedding’ cake. He smiles something fond to himself when he notices the copious amounts of frosting matting the fur around the reindeer’s mouth.
Nami is right though; Luffy’s the only thing missing from this picture, though the stack of empty, basically polished plates at his seat tells Sanji he didn’t leave before clearing out the galley.
“Why don’t you take a break?” Nami suggests, leaning forward to meet his eye. He laughs quietly in response, setting his spatula down and lifting a finger to remove a stray strand of hair from her pristine, freckled skin. Slowly, carefully, because it’s all still so new.
“I do appreciate the concern love, but—”
Sanji cuts himself off when he finds her expression has changed, a knowing smile on her lips and a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. She nods her head towards the exit, and he follows her line of sight until he spots a familiar straw hat bobbing right outside the small window.
“Oh.” He whispers.
He wishes he could say he forgot about Luffy’s proposition in the chaos of the last few hours, but the truth is Sanji really hasn’t stopped thinking about it. It’s pathetic. Every time Luffy glances in his direction, every stupid grin when Sanji brings him another plate, every accidental brush of their hands—
It’s doing something to him. Something he used to think he’d sooner die than admit.
Hearing it is one thing, but actually seeing him out there throws Sanji off guard. He’s serious then? As soon as the thought crosses his mind, he pinches his temple tight between his fingers. Of course he’s serious. Something indescribably warm rises to flush Sanji’s cheeks at the thought of his captain doing to him what he did to the others.
Nami rests a gentle hand on his shoulder, bringing him back to reality. She smiles soft, warm, the kind of smile that invites Sanji in and bids him never to leave.
“I’ll watch whatever you’re cooking, okay?” She offers. Sanji’s brows furrow as he glances towards the simmering pan on their stove. This last dish is just about finished and won’t require any further cooking expertise, so he has no real reason to turn her down.
Suddenly, like a gift bestowed upon him from the heavens themselves, Nami leans in close—closer than she’s ever been. Every inch of his body stiffens. Thousands of scenarios run through Sanji’s mind all at once, dramatic scenes not unlike something from a romance novel, but all that meets him is a simple, wobbly peck to the underside of his chin.
One peck. That’s all it is, and it still sends his soul flying far beyond the reaches of the grand line. There’s no doubt in his mind that he was born to live only for this exact moment. Every insult he fought with gritted teeth at the baratie, every hour he spent babysitting his idiot crewmates, he endured it all just to be right here.
Then it’s over.
Nami pulls away, and his eyes instinctively dart over to find her face. Her cheeks are darker than they were before, a deep shade of red reminiscent of only the sweetest of strawberries. Her smile never falters, it only softens into something endearingly awkward.
Sanji sees nothing less than perfection within those rosy lips that had blessed his skin only mere seconds ago.
Nami gives his shoulder a firm slap and offers him a reassuring grin, pointing her thumbs towards the door.
“Go get ‘em!” She cheers.
Sanji can’t help but swallow thick. He’s really about to do this. He returns her sentiments with a nod as he rolls his sleeves back down, steadying his face in an attempt to cover just how hard his heart’s pounding beneath his ribs. Nami just raises an eyebrow at his failing show of non-chalance.
Logically, he knows there’s nothing to worry about. It’s Luffy for god’s sake. Still, that doesn’t settle the whirlpool of emotions threatening to spill from his chest.
As he makes his way towards the door, Sanji’s fingers curl into his palms, leaving indents in his skin. He doesn’t know what to expect; not from Luffy, but from himself. There’s always the chance he’ll react irrationally and push Luffy away, that he’ll shoot off at the mouth and say anything other than what he wants to.
He wants this, doesn’t he?
Before he knows it, his hand’s twisting the doorknob out to the deck. He can feel their eyes on him as he walks out, but the instant his own eyes meet Luffy’s, everything fades away. He’s pouting, hands sat square on his hips, glossy eyes locked firmly on Sanji’s.
He can’t find a word for Luffy in his vocabulary that he hasn’t devoted exclusively to the ladies.
“Took you long enough!” Luffy whines, reaching out to grab Sanji’s hand. His grip is solid, reassuring, but gentle nonetheless. Something inside of him feels secured by the action, like Luffy’s hand is acting as a tether to this ship — to his home. Sanji’s gaze softens a little as he moves to follow his captain.
“Don’t start. I was busy cooking up another round since the word ‘full’ clearly means nothing to you.”
Luffy’s pout immediately breaks into a wide grin at the mention of more food, his eyes catching the golden glow of lantern firelight and dancing within its warmth. Seriously, he can’t be more simple.
“Shoulda said so earlier! Thanks Sanji!” Luffy chimes. The level of sincerity in his voice takes Sanji slightly aback. Luffy loves food, sure, but the way he’s thanking him makes it sound like he hung the moon and stars.
To add fuel to the fire, Luffy’s thumb begins to rub lazy circles around his knuckles. He knows the idiot isn’t thinking about it, and he can only thank the darkness of night for covering up the rising heat on his cheeks.
When they stop, Sanji cranes his neck to find them standing in front of the mast. It’s pretty worse for wear after their most recent adventure above the seas.
“Um.” He comments spectacularly.
Luffy snickers at him, his toothy grin never once faltering.
“It’s got a nice view. C’mon!”
So, they begin to scale the cascading ropes up to the crows nest. Luffy still hasn’t let go of his hand despite the act only making their climb more difficult. Sanji catches himself staring at the tan fingers curled tightly around his own. It’s like he’s afraid Sanji will disappear the minute he lets go.
When they finally make it to the top, Luffy settles snugly into the space, crossing his legs and pulling Sanji close enough that their limbs are nearly intertwined. He can feel every movement Luffy makes, can hear every breath, every quiet giggle. There isn’t exactly a ton of room up here.
Their close proximity is grounding in a way, and his expression relaxes despite himself. He leans back against the wall of the crows nest, joining his captain in staring up at the sky. The moon is hung high above them, a pale yellow against the inky black, nearly full.
“I dunno what we’d do without you, y’know.” Luffy hums.
Sanji gapes at the sudden confession. That’s pretty damn vague. What kind of scenarios is he cooking up in that head of his where Sanji won’t be here?
“I’m not going anywhere.” He chides without much serious pushback, lips pulled into a soft frown. This isn’t something he really wants to think about. But, in the worst case scenario…
“You’ll probably find another cook, I suppose. Though I don’t know where you’ll ever find one as good as me.” Sanji muses. Luffy’s grip on his hand tightens, pressing deep into his fingers until they begin to turn white. For some reason, they’re still holding hands.
“Nuh-uh. I’d starve before ever finding someone else.”
Sanji lowers his head to look at Luffy’s face, the soft glow of moonlight illuminating his features. His brows are creased, and he’s back to pouting again. Luffy seems genuinely distraught at the idea of replacing Sanji. He almost feels a little bad for bringing it up, but he can’t deny the sense of pride he feels hearing that.
“Zoro wouldn’t have anyone to fight with all the time, and Nami would miss all the little snacks you make her. Usopp.. he trusts you a lot. You’re always there to defend him even if you say you don’t care.”
Sanji blinks a few times, a burning, tingling heat rising up the back of his neck. Where’s he going with all this? Luffy lifts his head to meet Sanji’s gaze, and his expression shifts to something warm, a look that promises things he doesn’t know if he’s ready for yet.
“Shishishi! We all love your cooking, and we all love you!” Luffy declares with a grin so wide it’s nearly blinding. His heart does not skip a beat. No way. His eyes dance across Sanji’s face, peering at something beyond a physical level in typical Luffy fashion. There’s a pause before he speaks up again.
“You know that, don’t you?”
Sanji purses his lips together tight. Luffy’s question digs right between his ribs and straight through to his heart, unearthing the insecurities he was sure he’d hidden well.
He suddenly feels sickeningly vulnerable, like his soul’s been laid bare for anyone to see. What Luffy means by his question isn’t exactly clear, but all of Sanji’s uneasiness about their budding relationship begins to overflow at once.
Luffy’s so open about all this, about them, and Sanji can’t understand how. A nauseating mix of shame and concern twists somewhere deep within him, wringing the color from his face until he’s left pale and clammy. He grips the sleeve of his suit with trembling fingers.
Does Luffy really know what he’s getting them into?
“What we have isn’t.. it isn’t normal.” He chokes out, pulling his hand out of Luffy’s hold. His face drops almost instantly. It hurts. Sanji averts his eyes. “Five people. Four of us are guys.”
“So what?” Luffy asks incredulously, like he can’t believe what Sanji’s saying. The lack of thought behind his words only pisses him off.
“So what? It goes against everything a relationship is supposed to be!” Sanji bristles. His thrumming heart eggs him on, and his next words come louder than he means them to be.
“A gentleman and a lady, that’s normal!”
Luffy frowns and crosses his arms tight against his chest. It pains Sanji to see him close off like that, but he needs Luffy to understand what he’s saying.
“Who cares about what’s normal, boy or girl’s got nothing to do with it!” Luffy argues.
“It’s got everything to do with it!” Sanji rebuttals. He rakes a hand through the underside of his bangs, staring daggers into the carefully repaired floorboards. “Loving a lady is as easy as breathing, but with guys..”
He trails off, trying to push down the shame boiling deep in his gut, the years of rejecting anything deemed unnatural. Blurry visions of the past begin to overwhelm him all at once; poorly drawn depictions of two little princes ripped from his hands, torn to pieces. Words stuck to his heart like barbed wire, cutting far too deep for a child his age.
‘There is no place in this world for people like that.’
He clutches his arms tight against his chest, as if trying to shield the aching, wounded parts of himself from view.
“It just isn’t the same.” Sanji spits. Luffy’s frown deepens, a rare expression from his perpetually smiling captain.
He’s going to be sick.
“Where’s all this coming from?” Luffy asks, eyes pleading as they watch Sanji’s face, desperate to understand. “You were fine earlier! So why—”
“I don’t want to see anyone get hurt!” Sanji cuts him off. He can’t get enough air, every breath tearing through him like searing fire in his lungs. “When you love someone, you— you start to care, start to need them too much. Suddenly everything they say and do matters so much more. A relationship like ours, it’ll hurt so much more.”
He struggles to swallow, struggles to get the words out, struggles to see past the blur in his vision.
“Not to mention we’ll never be taken seriously, and people are sick. What if some psycho targets Nami-san while we aren’t there, or Usopp—”
“Sanji.”
Luffy’s voice comes quietly, carrying a sudden seriousness to it that stops him from spiraling any further. Warm, calloused hands meet the sides of Sanji’s face, firm, holding him steady. He melts into the touch instinctively, though he’ll sooner throw himself overboard than admit that.
“Do you want this?”
Sanji’s lips part as his heart begins to settle, the ache beneath his chest easing with each passing second. His head is reeling. He takes slow, staggering breaths, in and out. The chill of night steals the warmth from his lungs, waking him up enough to refocus on the situation. It takes him a bit to comprehend what Luffy’s saying to him.
“Do I want..” He mumbles.
“Us.” Luffy responds. His voice doesn’t carry any contempt or condescension, only genuine curiosity. It gives Sanji the space to think.
Us. Him and them. The five of them. Every moment spent laughing together, chasing each other around on deck. The nights spent sharing each other's space, limbs tangled under various blankets. Food shared at one table, meals overflowing with joy and thoughtless conversation. Every argument. Every apology. The things they’ve survived together. The adventures they’ve yet to have.
Before he knows it, he’s swallowing past a sizable lump in his throat.
Damn it, Luffy always says shit that gets him going.
They sit in silence for a moment as he collects himself, rocking with the merry as if she’s trying to console him too. He breaks the silence with a slow, shuddering breath. Maybe here, on the open seas with no one else to hear, he can say it.
“I do.” He swallows thickly. “I really do.”
Luffy smiles, wide and free like the vast expanse of the sea, carrying all the warmth and brightness of the sun despite it being the middle of the night.
“Then what’s stopping you?” He asks.
Sanji doesn’t have a good answer. Luffy doesn’t press him for one.
“People already hate us! We’re pirates!” He states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I don’t really get why all that stuff you said about love is bad, but isn’t it all stuff we can deal with together?”
A sharp inhale tears from his chest.
“Have some faith that we can take care of ourselves and each other. Plus, if they’re ever really in danger, we’ll be there! No doubt about it. Isn’t that what marriage is all about?”
“That’s a pretty abstract definition of marriage, but y’know, I get what you’re saying.” Sanji responds tiredly. Luffy beams at him, seemingly satisfied with that answer.
Sanji heaves a heavy and drawn out sigh. He brings his knees to his chest and buries his head into his arms, groaning into the fabric of his suit.
He feels a little stupid now. Of course Luffy doesn’t care, not when his idea of being a ‘pirate’ is just to live his life as free as physically possible.
What’s stopping Luffy from dating four people? Better yet, what’s stopping Sanji? He can just kick some ass if anyone says anything.
He wants this. He wants them. Their ‘marriage’ could be nothing more than one of their captain’s whims, but there’s something behind it that makes Sanji want so badly just to melt into their laughter and let go. Is that so wrong? Is that love?
He wants to believe that they want him the way he wants them. Something too messy to name, yet too real to deny.
It’s excruciating.
It’s liberating.
Moments later, a tug at the sleeve of his suit catches his attention.
Talk about Deja vu.
He lifts his head to find Luffy’s warm brown eyes darting across his face with poorly masked anticipation.
“Can I do it now?” He asks, eyes wide and buzzing with excitement, like it’s killing him to wait any longer.
Sanji chuckles.
“What the hell,” He begins, a smile creeping onto his lips. “Sure, why not?”
Surprising himself, he reaches out first, slowly, lifting a hand to meet the side of Luffy’s face. For all his flirting with women, something like this is uncharted territory for Sanji. Everything he does feels strange, new, and yet it really isn’t all that different.
He raises the hand higher, his fingertips carding through the ends of Luffy’s hair that’ve begun to curl in the humidity. His captain melts under the touch like warm putty, his beaming grin relaxing into something softer. Luffy scoots closer, close enough that he’s practically on top of Sanji.
It doesn’t bother him.
“You like that?” He mumbles. Luffy simply hums in response, leaning into his hand. He opens his eyes, and Sanji nearly finds himself lost in the swirling mix of deep cocoa and hazelnut browns. If he squints, he can see scattered red-ish undertones hidden within.
“My turn.” The rubber man says. Before Sanji has the chance to ask what that means, Luffy’s hand finds his own face. He runs his fingers through his bangs, the lightness of the touch causing the blond’s skin to twitch beneath it. Moments later, Sanji’s view of the world suddenly becomes twice as wide. He blinks a few times as Luffy gawks at him.
“You have another eye!?”
Now it’s Sanji’s turn to gawk. It takes a few seconds for his left eye to adjust, the mismatch of colors disorienting him slightly. When his vision finally refocuses, the level of pure shock on Luffy’s face tears a strangled laugh from Sanji’s throat. From his expression alone, you’d think the cook has been hiding the 8th wonder of the world underneath his bangs.
Any attempt to keep his composure fails when Luffy leans in to get a better look, leading Sanji to clutch at his stomach while his captain runs a thumb across the swirling eyebrow that had been hidden under his bangs.
“What did— what did you think was under there?” He manages to ask through the breaks in his laughter. He really does want to know. Luffy furrows his brow, but he’s sporting an amused grin of his own.
“I don’t know! I thought maybe you lost an eye and didn’t wanna wear an eyepatch.”
“Idiot.”
“Hey!”
They both break into fits of giggling, childish and unrestrained. He snorts. Sanji can’t remember the last time he laughed like this. It’s the same kind of feeling you get eating a good meal after a long day. That feeling of being full in more ways than one.
He’s still laughing when Luffy kisses him.
It happens while his eyes are closed. He can feel the warmth emanating from Luffy’s body as he pushes even further into Sanji’s space, tangled together in a way that makes it hard to tell where he begins and the rubber man ends.
There’s no heated passion, no fireworks or fiery explosion of emotion; the way Luffy kisses him feels as though it’s simply for the sake of kissing, because he wants to. He can feel the joy exuding off of his captain in every move he makes.
They separate for a brief moment, allowing Sanji enough time to catch his breath, only for Luffy to come crashing in again. He almost misses his lips entirely, landing on the corner of his mouth. Sanji’s able to guide him back before long.
Luffy’s lips are so damn chapped, but he can’t bring himself to care over the warmth flooding his veins. The brush of his calloused fingers against Sanji’s cheek, the messiness that stems from his clear lack of experience, the occasional laugh that rumbles from his chest— it’s all so painfully Luffy.
Sanji finds himself smiling into it as he cups Luffy’s face and pulls him in. Their lips move without much rhythm, instead simply trying to get a feel for the other. He removes a hand from his captain’s face to find the curve of his back, pulling him in as close as their current position will allow, and Luffy settles comfortably into Sanji’s form, the warmth of a satisfied exhale through the nose brushing against his upper lip.
They break apart and reunite once more as Luffy mumbles something about Sanji tasting good into his skin, the slight brush of his tongue against Sanji’s lips prompting a poorly contained shiver from the blond.
He’s likely referring to the dish he was preparing before he left. He did try the sauce, one of his best to date if he says so himself. He’s glad to hear its praise even through such an unorthodox tasting.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he notes that their exchange has lasted far longer than it did for the others, but he sure as hell isn’t complaining. They’ll get their turn.
Bit by bit, his thoughts begin to drift, pulling their faces to mind as his imagination supplies him with scenarios similar to the one he’s currently in.
He imagines a kiss from Nami would go smoothly; those soft, glossy lips brushing gently against his own. He’d take her slender hands into his, marveling at the ease they intertwine with. Maybe he’d even be able to taste the sweet note of citrus that always seems to cling to their navigator.
Kissing Usopp would be entertaining, if nothing else. He’d probably try to take the lead, rambling on about his harem from another life. Maybe Sanji would brush his fingers through dark curls and pull him in, stopping his story in its tracks. He seems like the passionate type, so maybe once he gets going, the rest will come naturally.
As for Zoro.. he’s sure that brute hasn’t kissed anyone aside from Luffy a day in his life. It’d be sloppy, far too aggressive, like he’s trying to fist fight with his mouth. Or, just maybe, by some kind of miracle, mosshead would try to be considerate. Maybe they’d take things slow, trying to navigate the other through the eyes of something other than the flames of rivalry.
By the time he comes to realize what he’s imagining, his face is already heating rapidly, stirring up a fiery red to bloom under his pale skin. Sanji’s entire body stiffens, which in turn causes Luffy to sit back and tilt his head at him.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Luffy prods, unbothered by the sudden stop. He only appears confused by Sanji’s reaction.
Sanji averts his eyes and creases his brow, staring out into the inky darkness coating the sea. Unsurprisingly, it’s a little embarrassing to admit you’re thinking about other people while making out with someone, even if that someone is also dating said other people.
“The others.” He answers truthfully, rubbing sheepishly at the back of his neck. He feels like he owes the three of them an apology of some kind.
Well, maybe not mosshead. He’ll imagine whatever the hell he wants about him, if only to piss the guy off.
Luffy’s eyes go wide, and he makes a sharp noise of realization, startling Sanji.
“What?” He questions.
“That food you made is gonna get cold! We gotta go back down!” Luffy exclaims with actual panic in his expression. Sanji sputters, furrowing his brow at the sheer whiplash of the last two minutes. Luffy’s already scrambling to get up, pulling Sanji along with him. A rubbery arm wraps itself around his waist a few times, which in turn causes Sanji’s heart rate to spike. He knows what's coming.
“Oi.”
“There’s no time to lose!” Luffy insists. He launches one arm down to the deck, latching onto something below them. Sanji swallows hard. There’s no going back now.
“Gomu gomu no…”
“Luffy I swear to god, I can get down mys—“
“Rocket!”
Suddenly, they’re flying. Between the roaring wind and the blur of color, Sanji can’t tell up from down. They reach the galley within seconds, which is to say he and Luffy crash spectacularly into the door, knocking it right off its hinges with a resounding snap.
“Holy—!”
“AHHH!! Someone get a doctor!”
“You’re the doctor.”
“Oh, right!”
Against the pounding thrum of his heart and the ringing in his ears, Sanji barely hears it when Chopper approaches to poke them with careful cloven hooves. He groans into the open air, rolling off of what he’s assuming is Luffy to lay on his back. His eyes open slowly, the sting of light blinding him momentarily, drawing another pained noise from his throat.
Luffy is so dead.
His eyes adjust to find the man in question hovering over his body, offering him a sheepish grin.
“Sorry about that!” Luffy chimes. He doesn’t look sorry. Sanji frowns at him for a moment, but he can’t stay mad at him for too long. Not tonight. He eventually breaks into a tired smile, huffing a quiet laugh under his breath.
“Whatever.” He hums, reaching into his pocket to grab a cigarette and his lighter. Luffy beams at him, then hops up to rush over to the stove. He greets Nami there, and presses a sloppy kiss onto her cheek. She laughs. Usually Sanji would’ve been seething, but right now, he finds that his eyes soften at the sight.
They look happy.
He sits up, placing the freshly lit cigarette between his lips. The familiarity of the action washes over him, and his shoulders release a tension he didn’t know he was holding.
Once Chopper checks him over, the rest of the group eventually settles back into their usual rhythm, though it’s clear they’re winding down for the night.
It won’t be this pretty all the time. They’ll hurt each other, say the wrong things, hold each other too tight.
‘..isn’t it all stuff we can deal with together?’
A warmth settles in Sanji’s chest as Luffy’s words come back to him, enveloping him. He’s really got some wisdom that head of his when it comes to matters of the heart.
“Sanji! Seconds!”
He glances over at his captain, watching him point enthusiastically at the now-empty pan. Nami just shrugs from beside him.
Well, they’ll cross that bridge when they get there. Gotta take the good with the bad, right? If it means he gets to spend his days like this, surrounded by love and laughter and good food, then he doesn’t wanna be anywhere else.
“Sure thing, captain.”