Work Text:
“Calm the hell down, asshole, you’re going to wreck your apartment!”
“Fuck you, cook!”
- -
They had had a fight.
Not their usual kind of fights - not the bickering they used to flirt with each other, nor the full-contact sparring matches they’d have at the gym or the park. Not the kind of fight that left them flushed and excited, hearts racing and blood pumping, eyes heated with arousal.
This was the kind of fight that started with harsh words and biting remarks, then ended with insults spat out in uncharacteristically even tones after hours of shouting.
The kind of fight that would end in one of them walking out the door, unable to handle spending another minute in a room with the other man.
The kind of fight that Sanji used to have with his family, before he realized he couldn’t bear to have a family anymore.
The kind of fight he and Zoro had been having more and more often.
- -
“Fuck this, I’m not listening to any more of your shit,” Sanji snapped, grabbing his jacket and keys.
“What, you can dish it out but can’t take it? Don’t be so fucking sensitive, cook,” Zoro sneered, voice flat and cold.
Sanji had made it halfway to the door before he froze.
There was a way this would usually go.
He would storm out, and one or both of them would get blind drunk.
Sanji would wallow at home, nursing a bottle of wine, then hear a knock at the door. He’d be greeted by Zoro, who’d either be sober and contrite or drunk and needy.
They’d fall into bed, too exhausted to do much but hold each other.
The next morning, Sanji would wake to the sound of Zoro’s snoring and watch him sleep a moment before getting up for work.
Early on, this sight had filled him with affection.
Lately, it’d been tinged with annoyance. Frustration at their lack of apologies, their inability to acknowledge the events of the night before.
Sanji could feel it getting worse. Edging closer and closer to a point of no return, where affection faded and the cook would only be left with resentment. The feeling was already clawing its way into his heart, clutching and contaminating his thoughts of Zoro’s smile, his laugh, his gentle touch - all stained with emptiness and dread.
How long before that darkness was all Sanji had left?
He turned back to where Zoro stood in the living room, arms crossed, clearly braced for another round.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Sanji finally said, voice quiet.
Zoro tilted his head, deflating somewhat. “What? Cook, I-“
“No, no, mosshead, I just-“ Sanji shook his head frantically, moving away from Zoro’s approaching form.
He looked up at Zoro then, meeting his eyes. “I’m going home. Please don’t come with me.”
- -
It was raining when Sanji got to his house, a steady downpour that had steadily increased as the wind tossed the branches of nearby trees back and forth.
As he undressed and showered, the cook was tense, half-expecting a knock at the door at any moment. As the night went on and Sanji was met with only silence, hope started to grow in his chest.
Maybe Zoro had listened to him . Maybe things could change .
Maybe they still had a chance.
The words whispered through Sanji’s head as he turned out the lights, lulling him into a state of calm.
He’d just fallen into bed when the pounding on the front door started.
“Cook! I know you’re in there!”
Sanji froze.
Of course Zoro had followed him. What did he expect?
Sanji stayed silent, not moving from the spot as Zoro kept knocking at the door, a litany of curses amid the sound of fists banging at the door.
“Fucking hell cook, let me in! It’s pouring out here!”
Slowly, leaving the lights off, Sanji crept towards the front of the house in the dark, a ball of tension growing in his stomach.
Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad this time.
This time might be different.
“SANJI!” Zoro shouted, voice bellowing as the cook made his way towards the door.
“You fucking shitty cook. Are you such a goddamn coward that you won’t even look me in the eye now? Are you that fucking weak after all?”
Sanji stilled, unable to move in the face of the venom in Zoro’s voice, such a far cry from the man he loved.
It always disturbed him to hear Zoro’s voice twisted in disgust.
But that sound wasn’t new to Sanji. Not anymore.
Another claw sank into his heart.
- -
Outside Zoro paced on the porch, panic seeping into his body as damp settled into the clothes, the slight cover not shielding him much from the downpour.
The cook had to let him in. Didn’t he?
“Sanji,” Zoro breathed, leaning his forehead against the door, exhausted.
Images from the night played through his mind.
The cook, eyes wild, practically snarling as he shouted.
The slamming of a door, Zoro’s fist punching the wall.
The way Sanji’s eyes crinkled when he smiled, soft and affectionate.
”I can’t do this anymore.”
Blue eyes dark, hollow and defeated in a way that Zoro had never seen before.
What if he doesn’t let me in? What if this time is different?
The house before him was dark. For all he knew, the cook wasn’t even there.
But Zoro had to try, didn’t he?
He stepped back into the street, well away from the door, far enough away that he knew he’d be visible from every window, and shouted as loud as he could.
“SANJI! Listen to me, you son of a bitch! I’m not leaving until you let me inside!”
Zoro’s teeth chattered, and he sank to his knees, holding himself around the middle in a futile attempt to keep warm.
“SANJI! I’ll stay out here all night if I have to!”
- -
Sanji leaned back against the door, sliding down to the ground as his back pressed against the wood. He could hear Zoro outside, still shouting, and fought the urge to look out the window - to throw open the door and welcome the other man in.
He pulled out his phone, wincing at the late hour, and started calling.
“Hey sorry to wake you…
No Usopp, I need you to come get him…
Brook, I know you’re up, can you give Zoro a ride just this…
Nami, you don’t understand I can’t just let him in, I-“
Sanji hung up.
No one was up, or if they were, they weren’t willing to deal with his shit.
Sanji grimaced. He had one person left. The one he had been hoping he wouldn’t have to call.
“Hey Luffy.”
“ Sanji!” Luffy exclaimed, clearly awake despite the hour. “ What’s up? Is there meat?”
Sanji let out a hard laugh, a bitter sound. “No Luffy. It’s about Zoro.”
“ Oh, ” Luffy’s voice grew quiet.
Sanji closed his eyes, holding his head in his hands. “Luffy, can you…can you come get him?”
Silence.
“He’s, he’s outside, Luffy, just standing in the rain, getting soaked and he’s going to get sick if he doesn’t leave and I- I don’t- I don’t want him to stay out there. But it’s- I can’t see him like this, but I just-“
I don’t know what to do anymore.
Sanji let out a shuddering breath, choking down the tears that threatened to spill.
“ Sanji,” Luffy said, in a low voice that left no room for anything but honesty. “ Tell me what’s wrong.”
Sanji swallowed, bracing himself to form the words he’d been forcing down all night.
“I love him, Luffy. I don’t want to stop loving him.”
- -
Zoro sat in the middle of the road outside, voice hoarse now. He’d given up on yelling. The cook knew he was out here, Sanji had to know he was there.
His wet clothes dragged against his skin uncomfortably, heavy with water. By now the rain had soaked into his shoes, feet and socks as wet as if he’d dived into the ocean.
Zoro closed his eyes, trying to regroup. The cook had to let him in.
After a moment, Zoro felt the rain ease up slightly. He opened his eyes to see a light in front of him, distorted through the shower.
The soft footsteps of the cook drew closer, and Zoro looked up to see Sanji before him, an umbrella held aloft.
His hair shined gold under the streetlight, the break in the rain creating a faint glow around the cook as he smiled at Zoro, eyes soft.
“Come here, mosshead,” Sanji murmured, reaching forward with the umbrella to shield his lover from the falling rain.
Zoro’s eyes fell closed, soaking in the warmth radiating from the cook as he drew near-
“Zoro? Zoro!”
Zoro opened his eyes to see Luffy, bare-headed, standing in front of him.
The headlights of Luffy’s car shone bright in his face, causing Zoro to squint against the glare.
“Luffy, what are you-“
“Zoro.”
Luffy’s voice was firm, his eyes dark. Zoro felt his heart clench.
“It’s time to go home.”
- -
Once Sanji heard a car door opening and the sound of Luffy’s voice outside, he chanced a peek out the window. He was just in time to see Luffy pull the driver’s side closed as Zoro stared vacantly at the open car door in front of him.
Even through the curtain of rain, Sanji could see the swordsman’s eyes were dark, eerily empty of feeling as he slowly swung into the passenger’s seat and pulled the door shut.
Thank god .
Relief flooded Sanji’s body, a hot rush trickling through his body and causing him to slump back down to his spot on the floor as he listened to the car pull away.
After a few minutes had passed, Sanji chanced opening his front door, surveying the road for any lingering signs of life or belongings left behind in Zoro’s distress.
He was met with the sight of Luffy’s straw hat sitting on his front stoop, the small alcove keeping it dry from the rain.
Sanji’s throat caught at the sight, and he scooped the hat up quickly, making his way back inside. He sank into his couch, boneless, and breathed slowly.
After a moment, Sanji pulled out his phone - ready to text Luffy - and was greeted with a message from his young friend already on the screen.
Got Z home. He’ll be ok.
Sanji let out a deep sigh of relief, feeling the tears he’d been choking back all night start to gather at his eyes.
Before he could type a reply to thank his captain, another text from Luffy popped up.
When I come get my hat tomorrow, will you make breakfast?
Sanji swallowed and reached for the straw hat, cradling it to his chest. Finally, the tears began to flow down his face as he smiled for the first time that night.
-