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It started with shoes.
Sanji didn’t know when Zoro had first started to accompany him on supply runs, in part because it had become so commonplace he could hardly remember a time when it wasn’t the case. It was a surprisingly comfortable change of pace from their usual bickering and ribbing; the time they spent in town was mostly calm and quiet. Zoro stuck close and was a huge help when it came time to drag everything back to the Sunny but, aside from a few random remarks and a shared drink now and then, the two seldom conversed. They’d never really discussed it but had still come to understand that that was precious time that Zoro had elected to spend with Sanji, and they had both decided to spend it simply…together.
So when Zoro stopped outside a small shop one day and directly addressed Sanji, it caught the cook off guard.
“Sorry…what?”
“Do you like those shoes?” Zoro asked again.
Sanji stepped a bit closer, craning his neck to peer around Zoro, toward the shop display. “Oh…yeah, they’re nice.”
Zoro looked at him, his expression unreadable. Sanji watched as the swordsman’s eyes flicked between him, the shoes in the display, Sanji’s feet, and back again. “You…don’t like them?”
“What? No, they’re fine.”
“They…how are they different from the shoes you’re wearing?”
“Color.”
“No shit.”
Sanji shrugged. “That’s it. Otherwise, they’re basically the same. Like I said, they’re nice.”
Zoro studied him for a moment. “But you wouldn’t buy these ones because you already have a similar pair…?”
Sanji nodded. “A couple, actually.”
“Got it.” Zoro resumed walking and Sanji just stared after him for a moment before running to catch up again.
“What…just happened?”
“What do you mean?”
Sanji gestured back to the shop. “That. What was that? About the shoes?”
“Just wanted to ask.” Zoro could feel Sanji’s eyes boring into him and chose to ignore it. That lasted only a few moments before he grew irritated and snapped at him. “What?”
“I can’t tell if you’re messing with me or not,” Sanji said, unfazed by Zoro’s temper. “It feels like you’re messing with me but I can’t find the joke.”
“I’m not messing with you, I just…” Zoro looked away, a light pink dusting his cheeks. “They just looked like something you might like, that’s all.”
Caught off guard for the second time that afternoon, Sanji could only nod and fall into step beside Zoro. The rest of the day was spent in silence, without so much as a snide comment shared between them, even after they’d returned to the Sunny.
It didn’t stop there. As time went on and the crew frequented more and more towns Zoro’s questions increased, growing more pointed and detailed with each new answer until he was dragging Sanji into shops to ask about materials and colors and patterns. Sanji never resisted; he’d never admit it outloud but having Zoro’s hands on him constantly as he asked about various shirts and jackets etc. was somehow calming. The small, impossibly gentle touches left his skin buzzing hours after they’d moved on, and he found it difficult to keep from smiling throughout the day as he thought about it.
Sanji couldn’t pick his favorite part about those moments. Was it the intense focus with which Zoro studied him? Or the way he tried to think like Sanji would? Was it the little compliments he’d drop here and there (“this color looks great on you”, “you pull this style off really well”, “I bet you’d look amazing in this”, etc.) or the way he would absently pull Sanji closer as they wandered through a shop? Or maybe it was the way he seemed to be drawn towards pretty things whenever they got to talking about accessories, a small smile on his face as he talked about how nice this or that would look on the cook. Maybe it was just the simple fact that Zoro had made an effort to learn about something he knew interested Sanji…either way, Sanji found that more and more he was looking forward to the next shop, the next questions, the next touches.
The first time Zoro actually bought him something, he’d wanted to dissolve right then and there.
Sanji’d noticed the bracelet almost as soon as they’d entered the shop; it was in a small glass display case near the front counter and something about it seemed to call to him. There was nothing outwardly special about it, it was just a simple silver band, but as people leaned up against the counter or bumped the case, the metal would shift and ripple like fabric. He’d forced himself to ignore it, knowing in the back of his mind that he had just enough berry on him to restock the kitchen and that was it, but as soon as the conversation drifted to accessories his eyes found the bracelet again and he once more watched, hypnotised, as the metal danced and flowed like liquid.
Zoro caught him staring pretty quickly and, despite Sanji’s protests, dragged him over to the counter to inquire about the piece. The shop owner was more than willing to let Sanji try it on and as beautiful as it was, it was nothing compared to how the cool metal felt against his skin. It was almost soft , luxurious in a way he couldn’t express with words, and Sanji couldn’t keep from running his fingers over it again and again. He barely registered his confirmation when Zoro asked if he liked it, the yeah sounding more like a sigh than a word, but the illusion shattered once the shop owner told them how much it cost. Completely deflating, Sanji began to undo the clasp, stopping only when Zoro placed a hand on top of his.
“Do you want it?”
“I can’t afford this,” Sanji said. “I need to–”
“Cook,” Zoro said, his voice gentle. “I asked if you wanted it.”
“I…” Sanji dropped his eyes, feeling his cheeks warm up. “Yeah, but…”
“We’ll take it.”
Sanji’s eyes snapped up and widened in shock as he finished the transaction. Wordlessly, he followed Zoro out of the shop and down the street, his brain going a mile a minute. Zoro asked him periodically what it was he needed for the Sunny and Sanji worked through his list on autopilot, his conscious thoughts preoccupied with trying to work out what the hell had just happened. His face and ears burned and his stomach was unsettled in response to some emotion he couldn’t quite place, and it wasn’t until they were mostly done with everything and heading back to the Sunny that he managed to speak up.
“I don’t know when I can pay you back,” he mumbled, his voice so soft Zoro almost didn’t catch it.
“You don’t have to pay me back,” he said. “Kinda defeats the purpose.”
“Which is?”
Zoro studied him for a moment before chuckling and shaking his head. “It’s a gift, cook.”
“For what reason?”
“Because I wanted to buy it for you.”
“But…why?”
“Because I like how it looks on you, and it made your eyes do this…thing.”
“It was so expensive, though.”
Zoro shrugged. “I have a little bit saved up.”
“How much, though?” Sanji asked, his voice dripping with concern. “This must have taken a pretty big chunk of it, and if you’re saving for something it–”
“ Stop,” Zoro said, turning and grabbing Sanji’s shoulders, forcing him to look at him. “I have it set aside for this exact reason, ok? Don’t worry about it.”
“For this…reason…?” Sanji thought for a moment. “For…buying…me…things?” It sounded foolish in his head, sounded even sillier out loud, and Sanji braced for the laugh he knew had to be coming. To his surprise, however, Zoro didn’t laugh.
He nodded.
“Is that a problem?”
Sanji could only shake his head, his mind once more trying its damndest to process the information he’d just received.
Zoro took him by the hand and pressed a kiss to his wrist, just under where the bracelet rested against his skin. He ran his thumb over the cool metal, the hint of a smile on his lips. “It suits you,” he said.
“Thank you,” Sanji whispered. He wanted to say more, but it was a miracle he’d managed to get even that out.
A comfortable silence settled between them as they headed back to the Sunny, their clasped hands concealed between them. Even so, Sanji’s whole body felt too hot, his mouth too dry. He couldn’t think of anything else to say, regardless of how badly he wanted to.
He caught himself playing with the bracelet in the coming days, his thoughts wandering back to Zoro and how at home his hands felt on Sanji’s hips, how his touch burned against his skin, how easily he’d secured the bracelet on his wrist, knowing he wasn’t going to take it off again.
Because I wanted to buy it for you.
A gift for no reason other than Sanji had wanted it, that was the hardest thing for him to understand. He would have panicked if Zoro had given it to him for his birthday or something, but just because? Surely that was too much…right?
The next gift had been a tie that “reminded me of you”. After that had come a few shirts of various patterns and colors, followed by a really nice pair of sunglasses. Each time, Sanji felt a strange cocktail of excitement and guilt settle in his stomach. He adored the gifts, of course he did; each one felt like a grand gesture, despite what the gift actually was, and made Sanji feel indescribably happy. There was just something about knowing Zoro thought of him when he saw pretty things that made Sanji feel lighter than air.
But at the same time, he couldn’t for the life of him think of anything to give Zoro in return. He’d tried a few things, like not getting into so many arguments with him or initiating cuddles, things like that, but Zoro always proved too much for him, either by coaxing him into an argument or by simply being better at sneaking in those little touches or cuddles before Sanji could even think to scoot closer. The one area he was confident in being able to repay Zoro’s kindness was food, but even that wasn’t a viable option because Zoro’s diet was so perfectly tailored to compliment his insane training regimen that Sanji didn’t dare tamper with it. It had taken him months to figure out exactly how frequently and thoroughly he needed to feed the swordsman to keep him from being so tired all the time, and the few times he did stray from the plan had all resulted in Zoro napping the afternoon away.
So, he had nothing. No way to show Zoro that he meant as much to Sanji as the cook clearly meant to him. It was frustrating at best, and often times Sanji would spend what alone time he got sulking about being the world’s worst boyfriend.
And yet still, Zoro bought him things.
Accessories were his favorite thing to gift, it seemed, because he was always having Sanji try on necklaces or bracelets or rings, even when he had no intention of buying them. Having never really had an opinion on accessories himself, Sanji noticed that these gifts were more a reflection of Zoro’s tastes than his own, which also made those gifts his favorite to receive. Zoro tended to lean more toward simple but elegant pieces, mostly things that would rest gently against Sanji’s skin, and each time he called Sanji over to try on something, Sanji’s heart would kick to life, picking up the pace and setting butterflies alight through his entire being.
Sanji loved it. And hated it. He adored receiving the gifts while simultaneously wishing Zoro would stop, was delighted to be thought of in such a way but loathed his own inability to reciprocate. What was worse, he had no idea what to do about it, because from what he could see their relationship was thriving, and Sanji spent too much time wondering if that was ok, or if it just meant he was selfish. Yeah, of course he thought the relationship was going great, he was benefiting the most from it. But what if it was different for Zoro? What if, from his point of view, he was bending over backwards to make Sanji happy and Sanji was doing absolutely nothing for him in return? That was the thought that kept him up at night, the question he tried so many times to ask but bailed on at the last minute, because what if that was all it took to end things? And that only made him feel worse, because if Zoro was miserable then they should end things, and it was selfish of Sanji to delay that just because he liked being spoiled.
But even that wasn’t entirely fair; Sanji didn’t care what Zoro gave him, the gifts themselves weren’t what made him feel so valued and loved. And while he was absolute shit at showing it, he did love Zoro, a lot. He enjoyed spending time with him and preferred to be with him more often than not. The swordsman was a source of happiness Sanji had never even dreamed of having, and he just wished he was better at expressing that.
He knew it was only a matter of time before that inner conflict started showing outwardly, so it wasn’t a surprise when Zoro finally took him aside one day to ask him what was wrong. He tried to play it off, of course he did, but Zoro was stubborn and persistent and loved him far too much to let it go. Sanji tried to distract him, to direct his attention to the shirts on front of them, but it wasn’t long before Zoro had Sanji’s hands in his own and the cook had to actively avoid his gaze.
“I know something’s wrong,” Zoro said, giving his hands a squeeze. “You look constipated.”
That got Sanji to look at him, the protest dying in his throat as he took in the playful look on Zoro’s face.
“There you are,” he said softly. “Talk to me.”
“I just…” Sanji squeezed his hands in return. “I want to give you things, too. I want to learn about the things you enjoy, I want to do things for you but I…can’t think of anything. Everything feels forced or cheap or not enough.” He dropped his gaze again. “I want you to get something out of this relationship, too.”
Zoro tugged him closer and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “You’re an idiot.”
Sanji frowned. “I know. But I just can’t think of anything—“
Loud, booming laughter filled the room, making Sanji jump slightly. Zoro dropped his hands in favor of catching the cook by the hips and pulling him closer still as he let his forehead rest on Sanji’s shoulder. “No. That’s not what makes you an idiot.”
“Oh. Then what…?”
“I don’t need you to do anything, cook.”
“I know, but I still want to—“
“Why? You do enough.”
Sanji paused, his face twisted in confusion. “I haven’t done anything.”
Zoro lifted his head and studied Sanji for a moment. “You get irritated when your shoes are worn out,” he said quietly. “Or when you get a rip in one of your jackets, or something like that. You think I can’t tell, but I can. We all can.”
“Oh."
“And yet, even then, you barely spend berry on yourself. Any extra you have tends to go toward some special cut of meat or what not, something more expensive than usual that you can serve us for dinner. You only buy things for yourself when you absolutely have to.” Zoro made a face. “Do you know how frustrating that is? I tried so hard to just observe you, see what you bought so I knew what you liked. But nothing! You never buy anything! You made me ask . I tried to be subtle about it but…I think I ended up just being too quiet for you to hear me.”
Sanji stared at him, eyes wide, but said nothing. He couldn’t think of anything to say.
“You’re always taking care of me,” Zoro continued, the tips of his ears turning a light pink. “Always making sure I’m eating well and taking care of myself. Don’t sleep too much, Marimo, make sure you take breaks, Marimo, when was the last time you drank water, Marimo?” He tightened his grip on Sanji’s waist. “But you don’t ever worry about yourself. So let me do that, ok?”
Sanji nodded and swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. He pulled Zoro into a hug, hiding his face in the crook of the man’s neck, holding him tighter when he felt Zoro’s hand begin to card through his hair. “Ok,” he managed, his voice strained.
They stayed like that for a while, until Sanji got a better handle on his emotions and Zoro was satisfied with the amount of kisses he’d pressed to his temple. When they finally parted, Sanji’s hair had been completely messed about and Zoro’s shirt was slightly damp near the shoulder, but neither one of them said a thing about it. There was, however, one thing Sanji couldn’t let go, no matter how much he loved the green headed fool in front of him.
“So…” Sanji said, weighing his words carefully, “when we’re in these shops, and you’re talking in a low, gentle voice…”
“Cook…”
“That’s you attempting to be subtle?”
“Listen—"
“Blunt but quieter, that’s what you think subtle is?”
They stared at each other for a moment before Zoro cleared his throat, leveled Sanji with a serious look, and said, “Look, you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to date me.”
Sanji dropped his head to Zoro’s shoulder once more, attempting to stifle the laughter that bubbled out of him.
“It’s not that funny, calm down.”
Sanji balled Zoro’s shirt up in his fists as he laughed, quietly at first but loud enough to draw attention soon after.
“And there he goes.” Zoro had no choice but to rub small circles into Sanji’s back as the cook shook with laughter. “Yeah, yeah, ok. No good deed goes unpunished, I guess.”
That only served to make Sanji laugh harder.
It was three weeks later that Sanji found himself calling Zoro over to see a shirt he’d found. “I’m buying this for you,” he’d said. Not a question, not an offer. A fact. “You don’t have to wear it but the fabric is soft and the color would look great on you.” Zoro just hugged him from behind and pressed a warm kiss to the back of his neck, before dragging him over to another display of shirts that looked, in his words, “easy to remove”.
Zoro couldn’t remember how many months had passed since he and Sanji had been able to break away from the group and spend some time together. He missed those quiet moments, just small touches and hushed tones. Life on the Sunny had gotten fairly busy and moments alone with the cook even on the ship were few and far between, and that was before all the chaos in Dressrosa…
He tried not to worry and, for the most part, all of the excitement the day prior had really helped keep his mind distracted, but now that he was alone and hiding from the Barto Club, he couldn’t help but wonder if Sanji (and the others, of course) was alright. He knew the cook could handle himself just fine, but he also knew that going against one of the four emperors was no small feat.
Zoro’s gaze fell to the large box he had stashed away below deck, a spontaneous gift he hoped Sanji would enjoy. He tended to favor darker colors when it came to suits, but from the moment he’d seen this particular ensemble, Zoro’d been unable to stop picturing how the blonde would look in it. It was bold, and they’d probably need to take it to a tailor, but he was fairly confident he’d made a good choice.
“Zoro!” Luffy yelled. “Zoro get out here! They found more wine!”
Zoro ran his hand over the box one last time before once more pushing his worries to the back of his mind. Sanji was waiting for him on Zou, and they’d be there soon enough. He’d pull him close and refuse to let go, even when the cook complained about him wrinkling his shirt or playing with his hair too much. He’d drag him off somewhere where they could have a moment alone, where Zoro could kiss him silly and make certain that he really was ok. They’d stay close and swap stories and Sanji would fall asleep with his head on Zoro’s lap, as he often did when they wandered off. Zoro would let him sleep, watching him do so, so he could be absolutely certain that Sanji was there and healthy and ok. Until then, there was wine and food and the straw hat fleet to keep him distracted. Zoro could wait a bit longer, he could be patient.
But god how he wished the ship would go just a little bit faster; he missed his damn cook.