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Ice trickled down Sanji’s spine as the snow continued to rain from the frantic bursts of snowballs overhead. He rolled to avoid a few strikes, only getting more of the horrible stuff down his jacket.
“Give up Sanji!” Usopp yelled, leaning around Zoro to call at the blonde from safety. “Team Captain Usopp is unstoppable in snowball fights!”
Zoro made an indignant noise over the name that was quickly smothered as a snowball hit him in the jaw. He spluttered, murderous as he dashed after the cook.
“Why do you get a team but I’m fighting solo?” Sanji grumbled, kicking up an enormous mound of snow right into the swordsman’s chest.
Zoro smashed through it like it was paper, and the other man begrudgingly admitted the marimo was in the advantage for this one. It was god damn hard to punch someone with snow when that someone was built like a brick and produced body heat like a furnace.
Not that Zoro seemed to be playing the same rules. He ignored the directed weapon of ice balls and instead tackled the other man fully to the hard, cold ground, sending them both skidding. Sanji grunted as Zoro’s head smashed into his, both of them tumbling over one another for a few dizzying moments before they finally settled into a disgustingly freezing stop.
The cook’s coat was nothing more than a cold lump of wet fabric over his skin by the end, and he shivered as he raised himself up on his knees, leaning over the swordsman as he shook his head to dispel the ice in his hair.
“Shitty, fucking, cold !” Sanji hissed, teeth chattering as he moved to get up.
Below him, Zoro gave a shit eating grin, like he’d won despite being on his back and half frozen. The skin along his ears was a bright cherry red, and his nose almost matched. Even so, the swordsman reached up to wrap his arms around the cooks waist, squeezing as he flipped them.
“Wimp.” Zoro teased, far too smugly from his new position over Sanji.
Annoyed at the feeling of yet more snow finding its way down his shirt, the cook kicked half heartedly at the moss head’s legs.
“Well excuse me for not being a muscle head who doesn’t feel the cold.” He muttered, feeling said muscleheads' fingers twitch at his side.
They were both silent for a moment, their breathing creating warm clouds in the frozen air as they looked at each other. Sanji stilled his foot, holding back another kick as Zoro's fingers twitched again at the spot just above where the cook's wet coat ended. A spark skidded up the blonde's spine and heat crept up his neck despite the ice to his back as the other man stared down at him intently.
The cook held his breath. At a snail's pace, the marimo began to lean in, and Sanji quickly closed his eyes in preparation. This was it, like every cliche story he’d ever read, like all his little daydreams, they were finally going to stop dancing around each other and just-
Something cold and hard smacked Sanji right in his face, causing him to jolt violently enough to throw Zoro off him.
“Got him, Zoro! Point for team Usopp!!” The sniper cried triumphantly from a distance.
Jumping to his feet, the cook spluttered and wiped at his face, his nose a little sore from the impact. Beside him in a heap of snow, Zoro flailed until he was in an upright enough position to properly scowl at the world.
Sanji managed to dodge the other three snowballs by moving behind a tree, grinding his teeth. The swordsman was no help, sitting in his pile of snow looking pissy.
“I need to start dinner, Usopp!” Sanji called, already sprinting back towards the safety of Merry. The barrage of ice balls stopped thankfully as the younger man laughed.
“Conceding defeat already, Sanji-kun?” Usopp yelled haughty, only laughing more as Sanji gave him a rude gesture over his shoulder.
Trudging through the snow, the cook grumbled to himself. He’d put extra mushrooms in the snipers food just for the interruption, knowing it was petty. Behind him, Zoro had flopped backwards into the snow, conceding his own defeat as well.
-o-
It wasn't like they had talked about the thing going on between them or anything like that. They didn't know how to talk about the thing. Sanji wasn't even sure he understood what the thing was, other than some sort of mutual attraction that had been steadily growing for a while now, and was threatening to spill out in embarrassing ways if it kept up.
The two men had almost kissed at least 7 times. Most of them when sparring got a little out of hands and faces got a little too close. Once when Sanji had been adjusting the rigging and Zoro, right behind him and hauling up the anchor, had turned around, suddenly in his space. A few times in the galley when they thought they were alone, only for Luffy to burst in looking for snacks. Every time it happened, the cook always thought this is it and every time, it wasn't. Zoro would start to lean in, and Sanji would start to lean in, and- no.
Sighing, the blonde refilled Nami’s glass at the table, the redhead busy doting on Chopper and talking about plans for his birthday. Everyone was preoccupied discussing activities they had planned, coordinating with the next island they’d dock at. Zoro was a quiet member of the table, faithfully shoving food into his mouth and occasionally stealing a glance at Sanji, which the cook let him think went unnoticed. Tucking a few strands of blonde hair behind his ear, Sanji fought down the blush threatening to cover his cheeks at how obvious the swordsman was being. Luckily no one was paying attention, too occupied by the birthday boy to notice when Zoro’s spoon missed his mouth entirely. Just to be sure, Sanji glanced up through his eyelashes at the mosshead, smothering a grin as the guy turned crimson and looked away.
“Sanji-kun, is there more white wine?” Nami asked, drawing the cook out of his head.
“Of course Nami-san!” He responded enthusiastically, chastising himself for paying more attention to the idiot swordsman than his beloved Nami-san.
“Can my cake have two layers?” Chopper asked, somewhat timidly from beside the navigator, and Sanji beamed at the kid.
“Only two? How about five ?” The cook said, taking his place at the table by the reindeer.
The wide, sparkling eyes of Chopper told Sanji that five layers was absolutely the way to go, and for the rest of dinner the crew chimed in about various flavors and decorations, even possible fireworks. Sanji carefully navigated the overly excited comments by Luffy and Usopp about the combination of fireworks and the cake, and urged Chopper to ask for whatever his heart desired. From her quiet seat beside Nami, even Robin offered decoration ideas.
With the subtlety of a gentleman, Sanji only peaked at Zoro a few more times, forcing himself to keep his attention on the ladies and Chopper. It was a hard battle though, with the way he felt the green-haired man’s gaze shift to him every now and then. Maybe, thought Sanji, this was still the day. The mosshead could stay behind, offer to help with dishes, and then when the door closed-
“I’ll help with dishes! I feel kinda bad about hitting you in the face.” Usopp said, chuckling as he stood. Without waiting for a response, he began cleaning away a few of Luffy’s empty plates.
Sanji’s smile faltered for a moment, then he recovered himself.
“You don't-
“I insist, as champion of snowball fights far and wide, I must keep myself humble despite my fame.” Usopp interrupted, still in such an obviously good mood Sanji couldn't do anything but sigh.
“Thanks, mr. champion.” The cook muttered, letting Usopp pass him with the plates.
“Yeah, thanks.” he heard Zoro grumble, not sounding thankful at all.
-o-
“The town is at the base of the mountains, so we can go there and celebrate there if you want, Chopper.” Nami said the next morning, grinning alongside the rest of the crew as they all finished breakfast and prepared to disembark the ship later.
Sanji mentally grimaced at the idea of trekking through the snow to get anywhere, but smothered it at the excitement on Chopper's face. Then, because he was an idiot, he looked back at Zoro.
The man looked away quickly, having clearly been sneaking his own glances the cooks way once again. The thought made Sanji instantly look away, coughing as he tried to bodily prevent himself from flushing. The idea that Zoro found him somewhat appealing to look at was still something the blonde hadn’t properly processed yet, even if he was willing to take advantage of it occasionally. He ran a hand through his hair, fluffing it a little, knowing full well that it looked nice having been freshly washed of ice the previous night.
Because he was a romantic at heart, he couldn't help but imagine cheesy and overly cliche scenarios where he and Zoro might be alone once they got to town. Maybe there would be a quiet part of the inn they were staying at where Sanji just so happened to be standing, and the swordsman would come up to him and offer him tea or hot cocoa. Well, maybe reverse their positions, since the likelihood of the marimo finding a hot drink and finding Sanji within an hour wasn't high. So anyways, there'd be a lovely little spot by the fire, the lights would be dimmed, maybe a few candles left. Zoro could be waiting for him, and oh, what do you know, Sanji just so happened to have made an extra spiced cider drink that happened to have Zoro’s favorite rum in it. They’d sit a little too close on the couch, the glow from the firelight catching the swordsman’s earrings, and then he would lean in and-
“-distracted?” Robin's clear voice, breaking through Sanji's daydreams.
He looked around to realize most of the crew, including the mosshead, were looking at him expectantly. Flushing, he busied himself with collecting the dirty dishes that had piled up on the table.
“Please excuse me my lovely flower, I was thinking about the cake recipe.” He explained, smiling sheepishly at the archeologist.
“We were asking if you thought you could make the cake in town, if we wanted to stay at an inn for an extra day.” Nami explained.
“Of course!” Sanji replied hastily. “I’m sure if I ask permission someone would be willing to lend me their kitchen.”
“Great! So it’s settled, we’ll all pack for a few days and head towards the town.” The navigator reiterated cheerfully, palm smacking against the table as she rose.
Maybe we can even share a room , he thought giddily. A private room, no interruptions, a lock on the door. He had to dash to the sink to distract himself, or risk losing his head overthinking it. What if Zoro wanted to share a bed? What if he wanted to cuddle ? Dear god, Sanji wasn't sure he was ready for that yet.
Behind him there was a shuffling of plates, and the cook looked over his shoulder. The swordsman was standing, dirty dishes in hand and a determined look on his face, moving like he was about to join Sanji at the sink.
“Zoro, will you help me with my hat?” Chopper asked, holding out the little knit cap that had holes for his antlers to wrestle through.
Zoro looked at Chopper, then the plates, then Sanji. He sighed at almost the exact same time Sanji did, both men turning away from each other to their respective tasks.
-o-
“Welcome to Hazel!” Came the overly cheerful greeting from the Innkeeper as the seven damp Strawhats shuffled into the warmth.
Usopp, Chopper, and Luffy dashed around, nearly breaking a little table in their excitement to explore the giant log building as the more mature members moved to the little front desk. Robin politely sprouted hands to correct a tipped over chair as Nami began the task of haggling for rooms.
Sanji shook out his hair a little, resisting the urge to sneeze at the frigid wetness of the environment. The heat from inside the inn was blissful, and he shuffled his way towards the large fireplace to try and warm up.
Zoro was nearly purring beside it, looking like he was ready to lounge on the floor beside the flames like a large and rude cat. Sanji kicked him on the ankle to get him to move over, unbuttoning his coat with stiff fingers.
“You look like a drowned rat.” The swordsman commented, which Sanji couldn't entirely argue against. He felt gross.
“And you look like an overwatered plant.” The cook countered, rubbing his hands together to get the blood flowing again.
Zoro looked like he was trying to think up another insult when an arm sprouted out of the table beside him, startling him in a way that made Sanji laugh outright. The hand waved a key at them that the cook took gingerly, the arm disappearing in a puff of petals as Nami called out from the desk at the two men.
“You guys are sharing a room! No complaints and no breaking furniture!” She instructed, and god bless Nami-san, what a gift, what a saint .
Sanji looked at the key, his face rising in temperature instantly, even if he had to grind his teeth to control a triumphant grin. Turning slightly, he cautiously glanced at the swordsman.
The dark tint to the other man’s cheeks delighted Sanji. He looked like a somewhat threatening piece of watermelon, with the combination of brightly flushed cheeks and green hair. All in all, ridiculous, but in an endearing way that kind of made Sanji want to kick himself. He wasn't allowed to get all love sick over the mosshead before they were even together, for fucks sake.
“I’ll- see you in the room?” The swordsman grunted, sounding slightly out of breath and uncharacteristically unsure. He avoided Sanji’s direct gaze as he turned back to the fire.
“Where else would I be headed, idiot?” The cook replied instantly, still holding the key out before him like a national treasure.
The green haired man shrugged stiffly, still stubbornly looking at the fire. There were a few extra lines on his brow from how hard he had scrunched his face up that made Sanji feel annoyed.
“What, don't want to sleep with me suddenly, marimo?”
There was a two second pause before Sanji realized his phrasing, and his face exploded in flames at about the same time Zoro’s did.
“I mean-”
“If you-”
Both men shut their mouths with an audible clack of teeth, before the mosshead made a strangled half-coughing noise and grabbed the key from the cook's hand, stomping off down the hallway.
Sanji watched him in embarrassed shock, taking note that the man immediately turned down the wrong hallway. He nearly jumped out of his still cold skin when he noticed Robin still near the front desk, watching Sanji with a curious smile.
“Are you going to get him a gift?” She asked lightly.
“What?” He croaked, looking between her and the disappeared marimo.
“We were talking to the innkeeper about local traditions.” The archeologist explained. “Around this time of year it’s customary for friends and family to exchange gifts.”
Sanji blinked at her, the sound of his coat dripping water on the floor somehow humiliating.
“Are you- would you like a gift, my dear?” He managed to get out.
“I do wonder what a swordsman such as ours would want as a present though.” Robin mused, ignoring the cook's offer. “Few would know, I suppose.”
Sanji remained quiet, pondering what she meant. He would never be so crass as to say their lovely archeologist spied on them, but she did have a habit of- observing quietly. It was entirely possible she knew about the thing between the two men, and even if she didn’t know the exact nature of the thing , Sanji had to admit they weren’t being very subtle.
He considered the idea of a gift for a moment. Maybe that could be the perfect way for Sanji to make his intentions a little more clear. After all, lovers were always giving each other sweet little gifts in his books. The cook could look for something while he was out getting ingredients for Chopper's cake, and then he could present it to Zoro with the hope of possibly even getting something in return.
“Even though the mosshead is not worthy of my gifts, I will consider it on behalf of your generous thoughts.” Sanji replied, allowing the smile on his face to widen at the idea of exchanging gifts like a real couple.
Robin smiled back, and the two of them moved down the hallway to their respective rooms, the brunette disappearing behind her and Nami’s accommodations. Bracing himself at his own door, Sanji took a few breaths and mentally prepared himself to enter a private space where the swordsman would either be waiting or eventually wander back to. He turned the handle.
“Sanji! Look! We made a pillow fort!” Luffy called, pointing at one of the beds where Chopper was arranging a blanket.
The cook stared, eyes drifting slowly to the other bed where Usopp was comfortably lounging, tying sheets in elaborate looking knots. Then he looked to the floor, where Zoro was sprawled out, looking like a man who had just lost a battle.
“And you didn't want to make the pillow fort in your own room?” Sanji asked calmly.
“But then you and Zoro would have missed it.” Luffy replied easily, happily taking the tied up sheets from Usopp to continue his important architectural work on what would have been Sanji’s bed.
“Right. Of course.” The cook muttered, dropping his backpack to the floor with a wet thud as he finally took off his still dripping coat.
Then he grabbed a pillow off what would have been Zoro’s bed and sullenly began helping Chopper arrange the blankets, because if he wasn’t getting laid that night, fine. But Chopper was getting a damn fine pillow fort.
-o-
Sleeping on the floor didn't guarantee an amazing night's rest. Besides the fact that everyone snored, Zoro the loudest, Luffy had seen fit to terrorize the inns kitchen, making for a morning of apologizing and near begging. By the time Sanji had placated the head chef there, gotten permission for cooking Chopper's cake later, and promised payment for the broken dishes, the sun was already well on its way to the center of the sky. Not that anyone could see it well through the snow clouds.
Shopping for the ingredients also proved to be a pain in the ass. Usually Zoro accompanied the cook fairly willingly for pack mule duty, something Sanji would have actually been looking forward to any other time. But, wanting to keep his gift a surprise, the cook had disappeared for his shopping without the idiot. The snow covered streets were lined with stalls selling various local crafts, but Sanji was met with shaking heads at his questions of produce. Anything available would be tough, cold climate vegetables and fish, and the one bakery in town was nearly sold out of everything.
“It’s the holidays!” The bakers explained cheerfully. “Everyone wants fresh bread for a family dinner, and I’ve only got so much flour.”
“I don’t see anyone celebrating.” Sanji muttered grumpily, looking out into the cold streets.
“Just wait ‘til sundown.” The baker assured. “That’s when we light lanterns and candles, exchange our gifts, sing our songs.”
“Oh?” The cook turned back, curious and willing to stay and chat if it meant staying inside longer. The smell of the fresh bread lingered like a warm touch in the air, and he wasn’t willing to leave it yet. “What exactly are you celebrating?”
“Oh, you know, us winter island folk gotta make these months cheerful somehow. It’s the darkest, coldest time of the year, and everyone likes an excuse to celebrate.” The man said with a shrug, still in good spirits. Probably because he had sold all his damn bread.
“Can I at least buy some flour from you?” Sanji asked hopefully.
“All out.” The baker said, unfazed by the younger man's clearly unhappy mood. If anything he found it entertaining, still grinning too wildly. “Check around town though! I’m sure you’ll find the right gift, even if it’s not edible.”
“I’m not-,” Sanji began, sighing and giving up in the same breath. He’d have to use his emergency stash for Choppers cake at this rate.
“Good luck!” The baker called, waving as the blonde turned and left the shop, empty handed and tired.
-o-
The blacksmiths was a drafty, small shop that Sanji had no actual desire to be in.
He’d gotten what he needed, or, what he was able to get at least for the cake, but every other shop was either low on everything or out of everything. The blacksmiths at least seemed to have a good stock on pointy things, and that was why Sanji was there.
His own kitchen knives were in perfect condition of course, but surely there would be something that Zoro wanted in a weapons store. All the cook had to do was find the right thing that said romance .
Which was, not very easy in a store that sold only pointy things.
“Hey mosshead, so couldn’t help but notice that you stare at my ass a lot, want a weird little knife to seal the deal?” The cook muttered to himself, prodding at said weird little knife.
He sighed for what felt like the hundredth time, looking around again. Would Zoro even want some knife? Sanji doubted it, but what the hell else was he supposed to get the swordsman? Clothes were a no, since the mosshead always wore the same thing and didn’t even bother with a shirt most days. Food was out because Sanji could make him something any day, so it wasn’t special. Jewelry was- too personal for the very beginning of their thing together, and flowers would be unappreciated by the brute.
So here he was, looking at weapons.
“So, Zoro, you know how we both obviously like each other but nothings happened yet? Well here's a whip thing, so that should clear things up.”
He poked at the whip thing, but the object did not have any helpful notes to add to his own commentary. Looking around again, Sanji spied the actual swords on display, a few looking not entirely awful.
“Marimo, here’s a sword, now stop fucking around and kiss me.” He tried out, wincing.
The swords didn’t have anything to add either. They stood on display with their intricate hilts and shiny blades, reflecting back Sanji's own anxious face.
“I mean, you know. Unless I’m reading it all wrong, in which case you can just have the sword and we can be friends.” The cook said, much quieter.
He looked at the other swords, trying to find answers in the steel. They all looked pretty much the same to him though, long and sharp and sword-ish. He’d never liked swords, had hated them when he was younger for the memories they conjured, but Zoro had made him rethink a few opinions. He had so from the very first time they met, shaking up the cooks' neat little life just as much as Luffy had.
“Personally though, I really think we should kiss.” He continued muttering. “I mean, I’m an excellent kisser. If nothing else it would show you what a proper kiss was like.”
A sword could somehow say that, right? Zoro did put swords in his mouth, so there had to be some connection there.
“Maybe I don’t even want to give you a stupid sword, ok? Maybe I’m just tired of fucking waiting and you’re an idiot, so here’s a god damn sword. Except since you’re an idiot, you probably won't get it.”
He turned to the spears, which were no less stupid than the swords, and equally unhelpful.
“Ok, yeah, maybe I could have kissed you first but I’m a gentleman and I don't just go around kissing people so suddenly, and you always lean in first so I just thought-
“Excuse me.” Came a voice from behind him. “Can I help you?”
Horrified, Sanji turned around to see a woman standing by what he had previously identified as a whip thing. She had her arms crossed and a brow raised, clearly unimpressed by a stranger now having a verbal dispute with weaponry.
“Ah, no thank you, madame. I’m just, looking.” The cook replied weakly.
“Right.” She said, giving him a critical once over.
Shrinking under her gaze, the blonde man looked around desperately for something he could actually purchase. His eyes landed on the little jars and boxes of metal cleaner and oils, some even sold in small kits.
“I’m just here for some oil! I would love to purchase some from your fine establishment.” He rushed to explain.
She continued to give him a critical look as she nodded, tossing the oil in a bag. As she handed him his purchase, she met his eye meaningfully for a moment.
“Listen, it’s none of my business, but wouldn’t it be better to just tell the guy how you feel?”
Sanji froze.
“What?”
“The guy you’re shopping for.” She explained. “You like him, why not tell him?”
The cook blinked at her dumbly, then plastered on a horrible rendition of a pleasant grin. He killed it quickly, realizing it was useless.
“We,” Sanji began dumbly, not knowing where he was going. “It would- we don't-,”
“He’d probably like hearing how you feel a lot better than getting some boiled linseed oil.” She interrupted, still giving him that stern look that practically screamed get your shit together boy .
Sanji was pretty sure the jumble of words he had said were meant to be ‘thank you and have a nice day’, but unfortunately came out as something closer to a gurgling noise. Cheeks flaming, the cook grabbed the bag, threw far too many coins on the nearby counter, and sprinted out the door.
“Damnit.” He hissed quietly, only stopping to catch his breath once he was back at the center of the little town. Then again, staring at the stupid bag with the oil in it.
“ Damnit .”
-o-
Logically, Sanji knew they should talk. And they would talk, they had to eventually, but for now-
Lanterns glowed softly as signs on doors changed from open to closed. People filed out onto the streets, some with candles, most holding hands. Pairs of people slowly moved about the town, leaning into each other, whispering sweet nothings, smiling softly. Some of them stood so close together their coats seemed to form one soft lump of fabric, two pairs of legs sticking out from underneath. A child swung between the arms of a few, giggling softly as others passed a steaming cup back and forth, grinning at the indirect kisses. Two figures sat on a low stone wall, silently just looking at each other as if the entire world around them didn't exist, and god. Sanji yearned for that.
He wasn't going to start expecting Zoro to do a million little romantic things for him, but a first kiss could be magical. It could take all of their fights and insults and say look, we can still be soft . Maybe the swordsman would hold Sanji's face in his hands, clumsy because he’d never had to be gentle before, and he’d be sweet because he didn't know how to be passionate. Maybe Zoro would be awkward as hell, and that would make the cook awkward, but then they’d laugh at it later and try again instantly, and that would be such a fond memory to have in the back of his mind. Or maybe the mosshead would lean in and hesitate, suddenly unsure, and Sanji would close the gap himself and reach out with his fingertips, as if to say I want this too .
Because he wanted it so fucking much. He still didn't know why or how or even when it had become Zoro, but it was Zoro. Plain and simple, despite the complications. He made Sanji feel safe and happy and, well, pretty fucking annoyed most days, but in a way that was kind of fun. He was stupid and dedicated and needed to bath way more often, and the cook didn't think he’d ever felt more right than when he stood by Zoro’s side.
Something glittered in the cook's vision and he turned, looking up. A stone archway marked the entrance to a path between buildings, and dangling from the center was some sort of plant, painted gold. Couples were pointing at it and whispering to each other, laughing. Then one pair stepped forward, taking purposeful strides underneath the archway, where they turned and met in a chaste kiss.
Sanji looked away quickly, embarrassed for staring. But as he peaked out from behind his hair, he noticed other couples following the firsts example, all stepping under the archway to embrace quickly. Curious, the cook looked up again at the gold plant.
“Curious about the mistletoe, are you?” A voice said, startling the cook and making him turn.
An older woman, bundled in so many colorful sweaters Sanji wondered how she breathed, stood next to him. She sidled up to the blonde's side, pointing her cane up at the decoration.
“The plant?” The cook asked, looking back at the hanging thing.
“Yes, yes, the mistletoe.” The elderly lady continued happily. “Why, when I was a young gal I used to have such fun bringing my sweetheart here to continue the tradition of it.”
At Sanji’s blank look the woman hooted, slapping the younger heartedly on the back.
“It’s the kissing plant!” She exclaimed, only growing more amused at the obvious shock on the cook's face. “Go find yourself a little sweety and lead em under it, lad! But don’t eat it, things nasty with poison.”
Still chuckling, the woman trotted off, leaving Sanji to splutter in her wake. He whipped his head back to stare at the plant, the mistletoe, and then the couples underneath it.
Who the hell decided to make a tradition of kissing under a plant? And a poisonous one at that? The cook stood in a state of bewildered shock for a good moment before it all clicked together in his head, slamming the answer down right before his eyes.
A kissing plant. A plant that meant you had to kiss . A physical object that could be obtained that traditionally required kissing .
“Oi!” Sanji barked at the nearest man, making him jump and nearly slip on the snow. “Where can I get one of those?”
-o-
Sanji thumbed the warm brown paper that held the previously purchased oil, nauseous from the butterflies in his stomach. The little bottle was just a prop though, a backup emergency plan where the cook could throw it at the swordsman and run if he had to. It felt like a stone in his hands and the urge to toss it at the wall wouldn’t leave, making him feel fidgety and tired.
Sighing heavily, Sanji looked around to try and distract himself. Chopper was sleeping on a soft blanket that Robin had gotten him, cake still smeared on some of his fur. Usopp and Luffy were similarly passed out beside him, the fire reflecting a warm orange glow on their sleeping faces. Nami was curled up in an armchair, head bobbing adorably as the archeologist draped her jacket across her shoulder.
Zoro was sitting nearby Chopper, his hand reaching out to gently pat the kids head, moving a few pieces of confetti out of the fur. He had a soft, affectionate look on his face that made Sanji swallow hard, the butterflies swarming all the way up his throat.
When the cook stood it was on unsteady legs, but he shuffled as quietly as he could over to the other man. At Zoro looking up, Sanji tilted his head, gesturing to the swordsman to come with him. Then, confidence at an all time low, the cook scurried a little ways out of the room and down the hall, too nervous to see if Zoro was following.
He learned against one of the wooden doors in the hall, prop present clutched so hard behind his back that he could hear the paper tearing a little. The mosshead appeared, backlit by the fire of the main room as he approached slowly to the place where the cook had purposefully positioned them.
“What?” The swordsman asked in a low voice.
Sanji swallowed, pulling the gift out from behind his back. When he silently presented it to the green haired man, there was a moment of confused silence as Zoro stared at it.
“That for me?” He asked, and Sanji resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
“Who else, idiot?”
Zoro kept staring at the gift, then he looked at Sanji. Awkwardly, he took the package in his hands and continued to silently stare at it.
The silence stretched on, fraying the cooks already frayed nerves until the swordsman finally moved to unwrap the gift, then stopped.
“I- got you something too.” Zoro said stiffly, still staring at the brown paper.
Sanji perked up, nervousness temporarily put on hold. The mosshead had gotten him something? He looked around, as if expecting a present to just appear. Zoro cleared his throat, grabbing the cook's attention again.
“I didn't wrap it though.” He muttered, and then he reached into his belly warmer.
Gross , Sanji thought, mildly horrified. He didn't know what he expected though, it was Zoro . Whatever it was, it was small enough to fit in the swordsman’s hand as he pulled it out, concealing it in a tight fist.
When he made no move to open the fist, Sanji gave him a flat look and tapped his foot impatiently.
“Well can I have it?” He asked, ready to move on so he could properly give his own gift to the marimo.
Zoro visibly swallowed.
“I don't really know if you want it or not.”
Sanji blinked, then frowned. He held out his hand in the space between them, palm up and open.
“Well we won't know unless you give it to me, so hand it over.” The cook demanded.
Zoro scowled at him, but positioned his hand above Sanji’s, relaxing his grip for the object to fall out.
It was crumpled, badly. The poor thing looked like it was ready to fall apart, tiny leaves just barely hanging on. The white berries were smooshed and flat, making for a pitiful picture. But it was absolutely and unmistakably the mistletoe.
“Some kid told me about this,” Zoro began quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. “About this tradition.”
He raised his eyes to look Sanji in the face, resolve setting his features into sharp lines.
“And I-
The swordsman let out a small, surprised noise as he was cut off, Sanji’s lips pressing firmly to his. Zoro stiffened in shock, then came alive in the next second, dropping the package that he had been holding in order to firmly wrap his arms around the other man’s waist.
The intention had been for Sanji to give a quick, chaste kiss and then back up, but the crushing grip from the swordsman didn't allow it. Zoro kissed him like he needed to kiss, and it was clumsy and obviously unpracticed but fantastic . It was warm and loud in the way the snow outside was cold and silent, and Sanji didn't care that it felt like his spine was being crushed. He reached up with the hand not holding the plant, cupping sharp cheekbones with his fingertips, marveling at the intimacy of feeling bone under skin in such a gentle way.
When the cook reluctantly pulled back to breath, Zoro tried to follow. Chuckling, Sanji held him back with the hand on his face, panting slightly. He waited patiently as Zoro came back to himself a little, looking dazedly back at the other man.
“You just kissed me.” The swordsman observed, tilting his head so their foreheads knocked together lightly.
“I did.” Sanji confirmed easily. The answer didn’t seem to help Zoro grasp the situation any better.
“Why?” The swordsman asked, suddenly serious even as his thumbs moved in soft circles at Sanji’s hip.
The cook grinned, tilting his head up to look above them. Zoro followed his gaze after a moment, barking out a sound of amusement.
Earlier that evening, Sanji had slipped away from the others to stand in the exact spot the two men were currently, when he had reached up in the dim hallways to hang something small and green. And then he had returned to the spot, positioning himself so that when Zoro arrived, he would stand beneath the mistletoe.
“Because I like you.” Sanji finally replied, the little plant still clutched firmly in his free hand. “And I was tired of waiting for you to do it.”
Zoro’s earrings chimed lightly as he moved his head, turning back to smile at the blonde.
“I would have done it if you hadn’t interrupted me.” He murmured, eyes bright in the dark space.
“You were taking too long. And you didn't even hang yours like you're supposed to.” Sanji said, tucking the crushed sprig of green behind Zoro’s ear.
“It still means the same thing.” The swordsman said with a shrug, leaning into the touch at his ear.
“It does not -
Sanji had to admit that there was something to ending arguments with a kiss rather than a fight, but he wasn't going to let Zoro make a habit out of it. For now though, Sanji leaned into the kiss, fingers brushing the leaves and trailing down to the gold earrings.
Both of their lips were chapped from the cold, and Zoro kissed like he’d never kissed before in his life, but it was still probably one of the better kisses Sanji had ever had. There was something remarkable about being kissed by someone who so clearly wanted him, and it was still such a wild concept that Zoro was the one who wanted him. Wild, unstoppable, Roronoa Zoro, kissing a cook of the sea like he had never wanted anything more.
“I like you too, cook.” Zoro breathed against his lips, smiling into the next kiss, and then the next. And then the next.
-o-
Squinting up at one particular ornament, the cook clicked his tongue. Packed and ready to go, the strawhats bid farewell to the assortment of people Luffy had somehow befriended when no one was looking. Sanji frowned up at the speck of green, stems tied in a near bow and hung from the door.
He looked away at crunching footsteps in the snow, grinning as the swordsman walked up beside him. He was bundled up at Sanji’s own insistence, scarf knotted by the blondes' own two hands that morning, and Just thinking about how grossly domestic that had been brought a blush to the cook’s cheeks.
“You cold?” The swordsman asked, surprising the other man.
“It’s snowing.” Sanji pointed out. “No shit I’m cold.”
He turned, watching as Usopp finished up a conversation with a bear of a man about wood nails opposed to metal nails. The two heatedly gestured in imaginary hammering motions until Nami grabbed the sniper by his sleeve to drag him away.
A warm hand slipped into Sanji’s, and he looked down, startled. Zoro's sword calloused fingers intertwined with his own, pressing their palms together lightly. When Sanji looked up at the other man, he was pointedly looking away, cheeks red.
The cook looked at Zoro, then he looked up at the weird kissing plant. He looked around at their crew, everyone gathered for their departure, and then he pulled the swordsman under the doorway.
There were a few overly loud hoots of exclamation when he kissed the mosshead, from what he could tell mostly from their navigator and sniper. Zoro gave a surprised grunt before kissing back with enthusiasm that bordered on too much for something so public. Sanji eased the kiss back to a more appropriate peck, parting gently even as the swordsman tried to pull him back.
A snowball hit the mosshead on the side of the head, effectively ruining the moment.
“Luffy!” Nami chastised, obviously trying to hide a laugh.
Sanji snickered as Zoro shook his now damp head, gaze turning dangerously towards their captain.
“Oops.” Luffy chuckled, not really looking sorry at all.
The straw hats took their leave as Zoro chased their captain towards Merry, Chopper and Usopp running after them. Nami hustled behind, yelling at them to stop going the wrong way. Leisurely, Sanji lit up a cigarette, smiling as Robin fell into step beside him in the deep snow.
“I take it you found the right gift to give him?” She said, pulling her hood up around her as the snow began to fall gently.
“Yeah.” He replied softly, feeling what was sure to be a permanent blush stain his cheeks. He’d really just kissed the Marimo in front of everyone, hadn’t he? “Took me a while though.”
They watched Chopper change into ball point, rolling over Zoro and Luffy both while Usopp and Nami collapsed in laughter. The idiot swordsman had somehow gotten tangled in his own scarf, rolling around furiously.
“I’m sure it was worth the wait.” Robin replied, smiling softly at him from under the fur of her hood.
Sanji didn't know how to respond to that, so he blew out a plume of smoke, embarrassed all over again. Maybe once they were settled back on the ship he could ask Zoro to eat with him, later without the others, have a date on their little seaworthy home. Or maybe they could just eat with the others, knowing that even though it was the same it was still different. Maybe late in the night when Sanji got into his hammock Zoro would be waiting for him, asking to share that small, intimate space.
“Oi, cook! Hurry up!” The swordsman called, standing by the gangplank, waiting for him with a wide grin.