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As much as Sanji would love to say so, as the romantic that he was, his attraction to Ace hadn’t been an immediate thing. His nose hadn’t exploded in an alarming surge of blood, time hadn’t slowed down, the scenery behind them hadn’t magically gone pink and fuzzy.
Ace had just been nice.
Sanji was already impressed by him. It was hard not to be. He was a renowned pirate, obviously, but he was also Luffy’s older brother. He was cool, he was handsome, he was charismatic. Everything Luffy had told them about him was confirmed just by looking at him. As he spoke, the picture of him Sanji had in his mind only continued to blur at the edges, instead of getting clearer. He’d really been expecting Ace to be arrogant or abrasive or at the very least unpleasant.
Maybe Sanji just had some preconceived notions about what brothers were like.
He’d spoken up on impulse, the words tumbling past his lips before he could doubt them. (Sanji never doubted his impulses. Why was he starting now?) He raised his cigarette to his lips, immediately made antsy by the succession of his thoughts. There was a flare, the combustion so sudden and so close to his face that he’d yelped, the heat of it had singed his bangs. His gaze snapped up to where Ace was still crouched, and all he got from him was a goofy grin, one that was all too familiar. Their eye contact lingered. Ace’s eyes could only have stayed on his for a second, but it felt like a year before they finally flicked away to focus on someone else.
Sanji didn’t even hear what they were saying. His heart was pounding in his ears, fast and loud.
He took a long drag of his cigarette.
Ace was really nice.
Sanji was extra irritable. He was making the worst first impression. Now that they were in the kitchen, he was extra sensitive, every little thing sending a disproportionate spike of annoyance down his spine. He swiveled on his heel towards the sinks, shoving his sleeves up his arms and grumbling to himself.
“Want me to help with anything?”
The voice made him freeze, face going blank as he stared out the port window, the point of blue meeting blue giving him nothing more significant to focus on than his own heartbeat. He swallowed dryly, looking over at Ace with a slow kind of grin, something that grew into something else cheesy and altogether too genuine to be sharing with this stranger.
“No, you’re a guest on this ship,” he said, before turning back to what he’d been doing. “Just sit back and take it easy.”
For my own sanity, he added internally, though he didn’t know why. He didn’t have a problem with Ace. He had a problem with how nice he was being. He had a problem with him asking to help. Sanji didn’t want help in the kitchen, but no one had ever asked either.
He could still feel Ace’s eyes on him.
He snapped to the side, being hit with a wave of irritation when he saw Usopp and Luffy’s dishwashing technique. He stormed over, shouting and aiming to bonk both of them over the heads with whatever he could find.
When he was done chastising the pair and he turned back to the table, Ace was gone. He ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach as he finally set to the task of making everyone’s lunches.
Later, much later, long after the sun had sunk beneath the ever-stretching horizon, settling a chill over the blessedly calm sea, Sanji stood leaned against the railing of the bow. The rest of the crew was fast asleep, with the exception of their cook (and probably Robin, too. They always kept weird hours.).
Sanji had never been the type to sleep through the night. No matter what he did, he always woke up every three hours or so. He’d found that he had a better chance of getting back to sleep if he got up and stretched his legs for a few minutes. Of course, smoking was only made more convenient by this.
He took a deep, crackling pull of his cigarette, staring at the black water, watching the lull of the waves as they approached the hull, beating themselves against it below. As he exhaled, he shivered, his bottom jaw chattering against the top, just for a moment as his concentration broke. It was easy to power through a chill if you thought about it hard enough, and Sanji took some level of pride in doing just that. He crossed his arms, resting his elbows on the railing as he drew into himself a little more.
He didn’t have a problem with Ace. Ace was… amazing. Charming and talented and kind and handsome. Dreamy, really. The perfect picture of a daring young pirate, with the kind of grin that made girls’ hearts beat faster.
And Sanji’s.
The waves continued to quietly break against the side of the boat beneath him. The sound grew to be too loud in his ears, saturating his mind, sending his brain swimming in the middle of the blue without any floaties.
When the air to his right was suddenly much warmer, he startled, jumping when he realized Ace was right beside him. When had he gotten there?!
“Evenin’,” Ace greeted softly. He stood with his back leaned against the railing, elbows resting on it as he regarded Sanji.
“You’re hot,” Sanji observed.
Ace stared at him, smile faltering slightly as his brows furrowed inquisitively. It was a weird expression, and made him review what he’d just said. It took a full moment for him to realize, but once he had, his stomach dropped. Once again he could hear his pulse, the beat suddenly racing. A blush exploded across his features, and it definitely wasn’t from the cold.
“I didn’t mean…” he chuckled embarrassedly, looking to the water, the stars, the deck beneath their feet. “I just, you… You’re warm,” he said with another weird sounding laugh, something that bordered on a giggle.
What was the matter with him?
Ace kept a poker face for a few moments, before finally breaking, letting out a too loud laugh for the late hour. That only made Sanji’s blush flare more.
“I get that a lot,” Ace said, winking as he pointed at Sanji’s forgotten cigarette, the ashy, burned down end suddenly reigniting. He was quick to bring it to his lips, eager to have something else to focus on.
Eager to keep that flame.
“Yeah,” he breathed out intelligently, looking out again at the water.
They were quiet for a few moments, Sanji facing the water, Ace with his back to it. He finished his cigarette, and retrieved the pack from his pocket, stubbing the last of the embers out on the back of it. He deposited the butt in the box, closing it with a finality. It was an action he’d performed countless times, with little to no thought each time he did.
With Ace’s eyes on him, every micro movement felt significant. He missed his pocket when he went to put it away, and then blindly shoved it in, hand jumping away from the pocket as if it had burned him. It found its place on his chin, halfway covering his mouth as he leaned on the railing more, letting out a breath as he glanced at Ace.
He was still looking at him. Ace took a breath, holding it for a moment as he deliberated what he wanted to say.
“You really intrigue me, Sanji,” he finally decided on.
“That sounds familiar,” he said with a small smile.
“That doesn’t surprise me. You’re an interesting guy.”
“No,” Sanji said, both a denial of the statement itself and an argument for a stipulation. “When Luffy and I met, he said a lot of the same stuff,” he explained. “Like, a little… incessantly,” he said with a fond chuckle.
“Yeah, that sounds like him. Always the tenacious sort,” Ace said with a nod. Sanji glanced at him, and their eyes met. They shared a knowing look, before bursting into chuckles, a light sort of laughter over shared experience and shared affection.
“Tenacious is one word for it,” he said with a slight shake of his head.
“Yeah,” Ace agreed. He moved, turning to face Sanji, a little closer now as he leaned against the railing at his hip, resting his forearm against it. “What about you?”
Sanji’s eyebrows furrowed and he snorted, looking over at Ace.
“What about me?”
“Are you the tenacious sort?” he asked. “Or are you somethin’ else entirely?”
Sanji just looked at him for a moment, at a total loss for words, and still not entirely sure what he was asking. His proximity was distracting, the heat of it was going to Sanji’s head. He swallowed dryly, and shrugged his shoulders, the lamest response he could’ve possibly come up with.
“I’m just me,” he added, only making it worse, only making it more corny.
“You make that sound so simple,” Ace noted. Sanji blinked. He shrugged again, and gave a small smile, coming out of this exchange more sheepish than he was used to.
“I don’t think you’re simple at all,” he continued. Compliments. Sanji could feel it when his blush bloomed again, even in the face of Ace’s heat.
“Thank you for the compliment,” he said robotically, to save himself from being too honest about his own thoughts, about his own feelings.
“What, do you not think you deserve it?” Ace asked, smiling that slow, honey sweet smile that made Sanji’s heart literally skip a beat this time. Again, he shrugged, stuck in this sheepish state, so not wanting to come off as boastful, overly conscious of his own mannerisms because of Ace.
“Is there a better chef than you in the world?” Ace asked. Sanji’s brows furrowed, first in question of why he was asking this, and then because what a silly question.
“Of course,” he said with a little smile, tipping his head to the side, just enough to be able to see Ace with both eyes. “My mentor.”
Ace chuckled.
“Right, of course,” he said. Ace was slouched enough now that he had to look up at Sanji, staring at him through dark eyelashes.
“Though,” he began, feeling the need to talk himself up as he was pressed, just a little, “it’s close.”
Ace laughed then, bowing his head with it, completely pulling into himself. His laugh was too loud, too sharp and jaggedy on the edges. In any other reality, it would be unattractive.
Sanji got another cigarette out before he could come to the conclusion of what it was in this reality.
Again, Ace lit it as he brought it to his mouth, the flare of light between them illuminating their faces momentarily. The freckles that sprinkled across Ace’s face and defined shoulders stood out for a moment, and then were lost to the low light.
Which was such a shame.
“Thank you,” he breathed, exhaling smoke to accompany the words. Ace only hummed in response, looking out towards the water. He got a pensive look over his features the longer Sanji watched him, jaw setting and brows furrowing. It was surprising, this tonal shift.
Ace straightened then, facing Sanji. He realized that he was taller than him as he looked up at him. He was still leaning on his elbows, balanced on the railing in front of him, but the height difference was considerable enough that it wouldn’t have mattered much. Ace maintained eye contact as he carefully plucked Sanji’s lit cigarette from between his lips, the length of it dancing between his fingertips as it found a place to settle.
“It’s a little rude to steal a stranger’s cigarette,” Sanji teased, raising his brow as he watched Ace take a drag from it, very much aware of the way his eyes crinkled with a suppressed smile, the way he chuckled through his exhale.
Sanji then watched as Ace’s face went blank, the shift in expression as striking as the one before had been. This time, it was even more worrying, as right after Sanji made note of the change, Ace practically crumpled, his knees folding and arms dropping. Sanji rushed to grab him, eyes wide with concern as he supported his weight. He searched his face for any pain, and then his body for any wounds, all while struggling to keep both of them upright, letting out little puffs of strained breath as Ace’s dead weight only got heavier and heavier.
“Ace,” he breathed beside his ear, now stuck supporting the other man in a tight embrace, his arms circled under his, linked behind his back. “Shit,” he whispered.
He wobbled back, dragging Ace’s form with him, leading him in the worst dance the sea had surely ever seen.
“Fuck,” he continued, blindly feeling his way to the small room they’d made up for Ace.
He smelled nice, like campfire smoke and cinnamon, warm bordering on hot. This level of proximity to Ace and the physical activity was making Sanji sweat beneath his clothes. Not that he hadn’t been before, with Ace so heavyhandedly complimenting him. Ace smelled like cigarette smoke too, that drag he’d spontaneously stolen sticking to him in an undernote kind of way, a secret thing that Sanji probably wouldn’t have noticed had he not watched it happen. He wouldn’t have noticed were they not pressed so close together right now.
If a woman had stolen his cigarette like that, Sanji would’ve called it an indirect kiss.
He finally toed the door to Ace’s room open, and was able to safely deposit the man on his cot. Sanji leaned down, pressing his ear to Ace’s chest, listening for a heartbeat, and then just listening to him breathe.
“There’s easier ways to check someone’s pulse,” the chest beneath him rumbled against his ear, surprising Sanji so much he bolted upright, staring down at him with a bewildered expression.
He looked completely fine.
“What the hell?!” Sanji huffed, barely remembering to keep his voice down. He balled his fists at his sides, scowling at him for making him worry so much.
Ace only chuckled, sitting up and turning to face Sanji, folding his legs.
“My apologies. Should’ve warned you. That happens sometimes when I get worked up,” he explained. He took Sanji’s hand, holding it with both of his own, despite Sanji’s still being in a fist. “Thank you for taking care of me,” Ace murmured earnestly. “Even though we’re strangers,” he added, with a wink.
Sanji leaned down and kissed him.
It was an impulsive act, one that he didn’t know where to go from. His free hand found its way to Ace’s cheek, holding his jaw gently. Ace immediately untangled his hands from Sanji’s, settling them on his waist, fingertips pressing into his back. He could feel the heat of them even through his shirt, ten points of radiant heat so insistent against his form.
Sanji brought his other hand to the point where Ace’s shoulder met his neck, that now familiar warmth no less prevalent there. Ace’s lips tasted like stolen and shared smoke, something Sanji only wanted more of. Ace seemed to agree with this, suddenly pulling him down into his lap, Sanji’s long legs awkwardly folding on either side of him. He pulled away, looking wide eyed at the other man, partly out of shock, partly because it was so dark.
“That was bold,” Ace commended softly, in an impressed tone.
“I couldn't deal with the only kiss we shared being indirect,” Sanji replied immediately.
“Oh yeah?” Ace asked, quirking his brow as he smirked. “There’s a lot more direct things we could do together, Sanji.”
Between the look he was giving him, their current position, the way he said his name oh-so-softly in the space between them… it was too much.
“You’re bleeding,” Ace suddenly huffed.
“Oh God,” Sanji replied, sitting back as his hands found his nose. Sure enough, there was a not insignificant amount of blood gathered on his upper lip. As he tipped his head back, he could feel it in his throat. He grimaced, thoroughly unimpressed and embarrassed by himself.
“Here,” Ace said with a small chuckle, nudging Sanji’s hands aside, gently wiping at his nose with a handkerchief he’d produced from somewhere. Their hands touched, practically stacked as they both quietly attended to his nose.
“Does this happen a lot?” Ace asked quietly, extricating one of his hands to push some of Sanji’s hair behind his ear. The flow seemed to be slowing at this point, so he tipped his head forward a bit, just enough to make eye contact, raising his brows slightly as he smirked.
“It won’t happen next time,” he said smoothly, sniffing grossly afterwards. He checked the handkerchief, and then his nostrils, ensuring that he was alright for now. “I’m going to go get cleaned up,” he said, unfolding himself from their positions to be able to stand. Ace stared up at him, a confusing look on his face, something akin to wonder.
“Oh, really? There’ll be a next time?” he asked quietly. Sanji grinned, making a little show of rolling his eyes as he turned.
“You can bet your life on it,” he said, before closing the door behind him.