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Luffy had never, ever, never, ever wished to cook. Never. Not ever.
Sure, he had to as a kid, living alone in a forest and all, but he had never actually wanted to cook. Him and Ace used to fight all the time because neither of them actually wanted to sit and cook their meat well, and they never really bothered to cook the vegetables they scavenged or stole. The only vegetable they bothered to cook was potatoes and maybe some weird mushrooms and stuff. But they ate so many poisonous mushrooms he and Ace practically built up a resistance to them, so after a while they never cooked those either.
(They later learned a few only became poisonous after they were exposed to heat. Go figure.)
He never wanted to cook; and once he set sail, since he didn’t want to, no one could make him.
It wasn’t until he met Sanji that Luffy’s opinion started to change. Slowly, he started to get curious about cooking. The more he watched Sanji cook, with this passion that lit up his entire face, that made his body scream happiness. The more he listened to his Cook rant and rave about techniques and cooking this and braising that and freezing this. The more he watched and listened and learned, the more curious he became.
It started out small, watching Sanji for a few minutes at a time through the window to the kitchen before taking off around the deck again. Then it got a bit bigger, him entering the kitchen to watch for a while. Then it got to the point Sanji would stare at him with furrowed brows, hip cocked. Then he would sigh and shrug and go about his day. He would watch as Sanji cooked from the kitchen table, or maybe he would hang off his back while Sanji chopped and diced and sliced and put things in pots or pans or both. It confused the cook at first, then, as time went on, Luffy realised Sanji enjoyed the company in the kitchen. (Enjoyed the affection.)
Luffy noticed, quite quickly, that Sanji was almost always in the kitchen. Always preparing food for the next meal or some meals after. He was always budgeting the cost of the crew's stomach in his head or at the kitchen counter with a towel over his shoulder. He was always cooking so he had enough to feed Luffy.
He hadn’t noticed that before. How much work went into not only cooking, but cooking the kind of meals Sanji did on a daily basis and how much food he had to prepare just for the crew - never mind Luffy - alone.
So he started watching more. Seeing instead of passing his gaze over.
It was at the end of Enies Lobby, as they were sailing off to new horizons, that Luffy came to a conclusion.
He wanted to learn to cook. He wanted to.
It interested him. He wanted to know if he could figure out how Sanji could love cooking so much if he could cook too. How the cook could spend his entire day, day after day after day, in the kitchen cooking and preparing and stirring and baking and cooking some more. He wondered if maybe he and Sanji - who didn’t hang out with him much since Luffy was always moving and Sanji was always stuck in the kitchen - could hang out more.
So he started watching. He watched Sanji cook like a Hawk did its next prey and when everyone was asleep he would stay up. He practised with an old knife he stole from somewhere, one that looked close to a basic kitchen knife (and yes, he made whooshing noises as he practised). He gripped it like he saw Sanji would grip his knives and twirled it (which gave him… more than a few cuts), he would pretend to chop things with it as well. Visualising his hand as Sanji’s as he carefully, and with respect to the animal, carved them up for dinner.
He was going to ask Sanji to teach him, debating if he should or not, when they hit Thriller Bark.
Then he woke up from his battle and even though he wasn’t supposed to know what Zoro did, Luffy was Captain. He knew perfectly well what Zoro had done, and Robin and Brook whispering to each other about the appropriate thing to do and then Sanji snapping at them to leave it be only confirmed what he knew.
And then they hit Sabaody.
And then...
…
Two brothers. One older, one younger. One dead with a smile, one alive with a scar.
Two graves. A coat in the wind and a hat on a post.
Two years. A lonely Captain and a guilty crew.
…
Luffy wasn’t exactly alone for two years. He had Rayleigh, the woman of the island visited sometimes, Hancock came often with her sisters.
He wasn’t alone. But he felt alone.
The guilt ate at him, the winds echoed the war, his dreams plagued him with Ace, Ace, Ace, Ace, and then the worst nights and thoughts dragged Sabo with them too. When he looked at himself, he saw little arrows pointing to scars and the bags under his eyes and the remnants of his life upon this earth. Each arrowing pointing out a failure or flaw or mistake he should have been stronger to prevent, or should have been smarter to fix.
(He should have been BOTH.)
So he asked Hancock for cooking knives one day. The special kind for young chefs. He asked her for chopping boards and pans and woks, even asked one of the island's chefs to teach him how to make rice and cook their native vegetables.
Rayleigh taught him some things, here and there, eyes furrowed as he watched him work.
Luffy… Luffy found the repetitive motion easy. Found it something that made his brain melt into nothing as he focused on cutting this, peeling that, not cutting his finger for the nth time.
It was… comforting. Maybe that was why Sanji cooked all the time? It was comforting.
Two years. Two years he cooked for himself and while the only spices he had down were salt and pepper, and glazing something or braising it was beyond him still. He could chop and dice and slice anything. He could also carve up an animal even better than he could have before.
When the two years were up, Luffy was armed with a massive bag full of jerky (and his knives) and was excited to see his crew again.
Returning to Sabaody was busy, Fishman island happened really soon after, and then Punk Hazard came only three weeks after Fishman island and Luffy… Luffy hadn’t cooked in a while. But he would. He just needed the time - he needed to ask Sanji to teach him.
Punk Hazard brought Torao and then they ran into Breed and then a whole good month and a half later they hit Dressrosa. Luffy had been so busy marveling over his shiny new friend he … he forgot to ask Sanji.
He still hadn’t asked Sanji to teach him to cook. He would have to once they got to Zou.
Three weeks passed and Luffy hit Zou.
And everything changed.
Sanji was gone.
The crew had no cook. Luffy had no cook. Sanji had left them.
(Been forced to leave them. Forced to leave them. Forced to leave them.)
“Go to Wano with Torao.” Luffy told Zoro in the dead of night. The night before everything would be decided, “I’m taking Nami, Brook, and Chopper with me to get Sanji.”
Torao’s voice was deep when he spoke, he was supposed to be with his crew and yet here he was, out in the dead of the night. Out in the forest. Luffy had dragged Zoro out with him to talk, for them to sleep in the grass under the stars because Luffy felt suffocated without hearing Sanji’s steady breathing in the room with his crew and the minks and he-
He couldn’t handle the idea of Sanji being gone. Possibly being dead like Ac-
He didn’t like not hearing them all breathing.
“You’re going after Black Leg-ya then?” Torao’s voice was deep, and Luffy knew when he and Zoro shared a look they both heard the worry buried in Torao’s voice. They both heard how concerned he was for Sanji.
“Yup.” He said, from where he was laying in the grass, Zoro beside him, both of them looking up at the stars through the canopy.
Zoro put up a brave face, saying Sanji just shouldn’t come back, but Luffy could feel Zoro’s worry and fear and pain as clear as his own. They felt each other's pain and so Luffy knew just how much the thought of Sanji leaving (or dying) carved one of the most painful holes in Zoro’s heart. That he was only fighting sleep because he was afraid of what it would bring.
The sound of grass being flattened under Torao’s shoes was the only warning he was coming to stand above Luffy.
Eyes with bags, thinner than ever, yet recovering from the hellhole Dressrosa had been for him, Torao stared down at him. Luffy noticed his hat wasn’t with him - neither was his sword. The Surgeon's hair was a bit mussed, as if he had been running his hands through it in worry.
Silence and then, “Bring that idiot back safe.”
Luffy laughed and said like it explained everything, “I’m his Captain, Torao.”
(It did explain everything.)
In the dark of the night, Luffy just noticed Torao’s eyes flicking to Luffy and Zoro’s intertwined hands and his mouth curving up a bit.
“Safe.” He repeated, coming to lay down beside him but leaving a space between him and Luffy because they were only allies, “...I’ll keep your crew safe. And you bring back that idiot Cook-ya.”
He hummed in agreement, Zoro let out a snore - one Luffy knew was fake - and Torao sighed at the sound.
Luffy smiled, pretending tears weren't leaking from his eyes as he thought of Sanji alone. As he thought of the idea of losing one of his.
(Like Ac-)
The sun came and a plan was made and Luffy left for Whole Cake on the Sunny.
Nami’s nails, normally perfect, were bitten to the bed (her cooking was okay). Brooks' normally jolly tune carried a bit of melancholy (his cooking wasn’t the best, but he was only bones). Chopper was himself, but his hooves had some scuffs to them and whenever he said Sanji’s name his voice cracked just a bit. Chopper didn’t know how to cook and Luffy couldn’t because the thought of cooking in Sani’s kitchen without him. It made his heart hurt.
They hit Whole Cake Island and Luffy felt his heart die. He hadn’t seen his cook yet and by all means he was staring at a dreamland - and he had no idea how Sanji was doing. And yet… Yet he knew his cook was on the knife's edge and was in a very bad place. Luffy wasn’t an idiot, and he knew that Sanji… that Sanji was going to fight him on going back to the Sunny. Like Robin, like Nami, like Usopp. He knew that like he knew the sun loved him a bit more than anyone else. He also knew that Sanji wanted nothing more than to go home, but couldn’t. Not wouldn’t or shouldn't but couldn’t.
Whole Cake island was a place Luffy would have normally adored, it was edible all around and he loved to eat. Simple math (and Luffy was good at math as long as he thought of the numbers as meals!). The place was a wonderland for him, and if he had come to the island for any other reason… he would have probably never really wanted to leave. Food was almost the most important thing to him in life and it was only beaten out by his crew, his brothers, Shanks and his crew, his nakama, and wanting to be Pirate King.
But… but he went to Whole Cake to get his cook back. His cook who sacrificed himself because he didn’t think himself worth it, because he wanted to keep those he loved safe.
Because Sanji believed he was only important through his cooking. Because Sanji loved cooking so much. Because cooking gave Sanji a purpose, a home, and a family.
And those biological-bastards threatened to take that away.
Luffy hated Whole Cake Island. Loathed the damn place and sometimes wished it had sunk into the sea because Sanji had cried there. Sanji had broken as he had fought Luffy, Sanji had been beaten down into nothing and almost forced into a marriage he didn’t want but accepted because he thought he had no other choice. Because he had given up and Pudding had pretended to be nice, pretended she cared and Sanji believed that even though he would be a prisoner the rest of his life. At least one person would care for him.
Luffy hated Whole Cake Island, because it was the place he had almost lost his cook. Where Sanji had almost died.
And it was that damn place that made him want to cook more than ever. Made him need to, because knowing Sanji had cooked all of their - the entire crews - favourite dishes for Pudding. Knowing he had done that because he had trusted her, trusted her and then heard her admit to that stupid and mean betrayal plan. That he had made the dishes of those most precious to him for someone he had hoped would be kind - even as he wished for an escape - made Luffy angry. Made him seethe with rage and made him…
Made him wish for nothing more than to cook something for Sanji. To cook him his favourite meal because that was what Sanji always did for them.
Sanji cooked to show his love. In every damn molecule of the food he made, he put all his love into it. Even when he cooked out of stress or anger you still felt love because he wanted those who ate his food to know he cared. Cared.
Luffy… Luffy wanted to do that. Wanted to cook for Sanji . Make him something amazing.
He noticed Sanji, before Whole Cake, and how he always ate just enough for it to be healthy, but never more. That he often took the leftovers and scraps and made dishes for himself with those but saved the best for others. Luffy noticed that Sanji’s form of love was cooking, and that he always gave himself the worst.
That he… that he didn’t love himself and after Whole Cake that only got worse.
Luffy would stuff his face with Sanji’s amazing, delicious, beautiful cooking and then notice Sanji had the scraps and only the scraps. After Whole Cake he really didn’t love himself and Luffy.
Luffy needed to show Sanji differently. Needed to show him he was loved.
Sanji would brush off words, even if only the lightest praise made him light up in colour like the damn sun breaking over the horizon. Sanji would brush off or ignore physical affection because he was a “man” and men “can’t be affectionate like women.” Or because physical affection was something he never got and so yearned for and yet it was such a foreign concept to him he balked and reacted like a drowned cat to it.
Luffy needed to cook to show him he was loved, to prove to him he was loved. To make sure Sanji got the good stuff too. Luffy had wanted to cook before, had learned the basics of the basics, but he needed to cook now. Needed to know how to cook well. Before it was a want, something he could easily put off, but now it was something he had to do because Sanji needed that.
He wanted to cook so he could stand shoulder to shoulder with Sanji and be with him. He needed to cook so that if Sanji needed a break he could have one (Sanji never took breaks, and Luffy noticed, and he wanted his cook to rest ). He needed to cook. Period. End of story.
So he would learn.
Luffy was Pirate King when he finally set out to do this task. After Wano they needed to help Sabo and then there was that thing and the other thing - oh! There was that thing as well! There were a lot of things that happened and Luffy didn’t have the time to learn to cook. All he had time to do was sneakily cut up tangerines for Sanji. Or an apple. Maybe a banana. He sometimes cut up veggies and stole some dip to leave for Sanji too.
(Sanji never figured out who was carving and cutting the food for him.)
Zoro took to using some of his allowance for special fruits and snacks, catching on to what Luffy was doing easily. He provided Luffy with the goods and Luffy would cut them and hide them. Or, if Torao was there, Torao would use his Devil Fruit to get the food to Sanji without him any the wiser. The three of them made a good team.
But Luffy hadn’t cooked Sanji anything yet and still couldn’t cook much more than the basics of the basics and so now that he was King and the world was changed forever and he had the time to learn. He could learn.
Luffy was also - conveniently - free from most of his crew. Nami and Usopp had returned to the East for an Eastern booze run and to visit family. Robin and Franky were on an anniversary vacation - years married by now. Chopper and Carrot went to Zou for a bit. Torao and his crew were sailing on their own for a few months. Zoro was visiting Perona (his “stupid, useless ghost sister”). Brook was visiting Laboon, Jinbei was visiting his old crew on Fishman island, and Yamato was in Wano for a bit.
Sanji had just returned from the Baratie and was back with Luffy, the two of them settling the boat at a secluded island for a bit.
Luffy took a bad hit to his back some years ago and sometimes… sometimes he could admit - at 26, 8’2”, and covered in scars - that resting in one place for a while was a good idea. It took him 23 years to admit that though so… he held out until the very end.
Alone, in a small house with just the two of them, Luffy had his chance to learn. It took practically nine years but here he was, finally ready to learn from the Master.
“Sanji…” He said, sitting at the kitchen table and watching his cook prepare their dinner, “I wanna learn ta cook.”
Luffy startled when Sanji swore and a knife jerked harshly in his hand. He blinked when startled blue eyes were staring at him with their mouth wide open.
“What?” He asked, genuinely confused as to why Sanji was reacting that way, “I wanna learn!”
It took three days of nagging and a whole lot of trying before Sanji agreed to teach him. Luffy wouldn’t understand why his cook didn’t believe him for over 48 hours worth of begging, but Sanji had really not believed him for a while. He had lost his youth chef's knives four years ago after a rogue cannon went boom into the Sunny, meaning he didn’t even have those as proof of his seriousness!
Sanji didn’t even believe Luffy when he pointed out how he still couldn’t lie.
(He even wondered for a bit if Luffy was Luffy, asking who had stolen his Captain and was pretending to be him.)
It took three days. But Luffy succeeded and Sanji started to teach him.
More than surprised Luffy’s knife skills were actually okay, Sanji taught him with patience and yet a sharp, witty tongue.
Since Sanji was a good 2 feet shorter than Luffy, with him being 8’2 and Sanji being 6’0 (5’11 and a half), whenever Sanji would show him a grip or style or this or that he had to stand in front of Luffy, encased in his arms. His hand (so small, Luffy noted with a bit of a grin) would rest on Luffy’s and guide him while he taught.
Three weeks it was just the two of them. Luffy tackled learning to cook from Sanji with more care than he would in a fight, but with that same bullheaded force and confidence. They spent day and night in the kitchen, hour upon hour in there laughing and talking and (mostly) Sanji berating him for something or another, or even sharing witty back and forth Sanji marvelled Luffy was capable of. (Torao may or may not have rubbed off over the years.) Before Luffy knew it he was getting the hang of knowing when Sanji needed something and they were moving onto spices, and all these “th-e-or-ees” about cooking Luffy could care less about, but Sanji took like gospel sometimes.
Three weeks of just them and the kitchen when Zoro came home.
He entered the house and when he saw Luffy at the stove, frying up some veggies and meat in spices and a sauce Sanji prepared, he froze.
“What.” Zoro dropped his bag on the floor, missing eye socket wide open in his shock, “The fuck.”
Sanji’s voice was amused, glasses on the edge of his nose as he read the novel he finally had the time to read since he wasn’t cooking all the time. “Welcome home, Marimo.”
Luffy grinned, flames going everywhere as he tossed the food on the stove - but everything was contained and it was the good cooking flames.
Zoro carefully sat in an empty kitchen chair, pulled some booze from his person, slapped himself in the face, chugged the booze and when he looked at Luffy and when still saw him cooking he said, “Huh.”
Then he pulled out his sword to shine it and Sanji started yelling.
Luffy liked the noise, laughing all the way.
Each member of the crew had a different reaction. Nami attacked him on the spot, convinced he was an imposter. Usopp and Chopper both gapped, and then hit themselves and gapped some more. Robin blinked rapidly and spent half a day contemplating the meaning of life. Franky decided to crochet because if Luffy could cook he could use the tiny needle with his big hands. Carrot and Yamato both nodded their heads because they were Luffy-level kind and idiotic. Brook burst into shocked song and Jinbei fainted. The Knight of the Sea fell into a dead faint and Luffy totally did not draw on his face with a Fishman-friendly-marker.
By the time they were all back and sailing on the sea Torao was back with them and he took to Luffy cooking as if the world was ending. Legitimately. Torao spent four days making an End-of-The-World-Plan.
While Zoro and Torao had helped him with his cutting fruits and snacks endeavor… they had never suspected cooking. Ever.
It took two years of basic cooking - and some self study - and ignoring Sanji’s bad eating habits he still had, before Luffy was ready.
He waited until he was back at that small house and Sanji went to visit the Baratie and his crew disappeared to visit family and instead of visiting Sabo and Makino, Sabo came to him, with Makino in tow, and helped him find what he needed.
Luffy spent a whole week preparing the food. Meats of all kinds, vegetables of all kinds, soups and salads and this and that and he even made some desserts. He spent a week making a feast for his crew. He spent a week gathering what he needed to make the food Sanji called his favourite. Spicy seafood pasta and something that goes well with black tea.
Koala had gifted Luffy with a rare, hard to find Black tea Sanji had only had once but adored. Sabo had gotten Luffy rare seafood, fresh and fresh. Makino had spent a good amount of time at Luffy’s side as they picked and collected the right spices. The four of them worked together to get the right rice flour for the rice noodles.
When his crew returned they returned to a feast (Sabo, Koala, and Makino long gone with their own special dishes for the help. Yes, Sabo cried in pride).
When Sanji returned with the crew he stared at the food Luffy had for them and…
And he held in tears.
Luffy had made sure all of his were settled (and that Zoro had his never-ending supply of booze, and Torao had no bread, and Torao’s crew was getting stuff too) and then he forced Sanji to the head of the table.
Slapping his cooks hand when he went to plate food in awe, he glared, “Not for you. You get something special.”
Sanji’s eyes were wide, his jaw slack. He was in his business casual and Luffy could tell he felt underdressed for such an “honour,” even as more than half the table were in sweats and ratty tanks.
Luffy brought out Sanji’s food, hidden under a lidded silver tray Luffy had polished himself.
The table went silent when he set it down and Sanji was completely silent in his seat, sniffling and trying not to cry.
“Sanji.” Luffy said, “My cook, my cook. You’ve spent the last nine or so years catering to us every second. I noticed-” Sanji opened his mouth and Luffy glared, “I noticed you in the kitchen all the time. I notice how you always got the worst stuff at dinner and only ate just enough for it to be healthy. I noticed how you don’t say “Love yous” or “missed yous” but you always give special portions or little treats instead. I notice how you cook and cook and don’t stop and that you give and give and don’t expect in return.”
He smiled wide and bright and when Sanji started crying, Luffy only stared at him like he was his world. Because he was. Because Sanji and everyone he loved was his world. And they deserved everything. Sanji had waited years for this, he hadn’t been waiting himself, never thought himself worthy of such effort and care, but Luffy was finally ready to not half-ass. He was ready to prove to Sanji he deserved everything and more.
The only way to prove this was to cook. So Luffy did.
“So! To thank you for everything you have ever done. To make sure you know how much you mean to us, how loved you are. You are going to sit here and listen to everyone tell you how much they love you and then you will eat what was cooked for you. Because you mean more than enough - you are more than enough - for someone to work and prepare food for. Because you’re my cook, Sanji. Mine. And if I have to feed my love, respect, admiration, adoration, and fucking faith in you into you one bite at a time I will."
Zoro opened his mouth the moment Luffy finished. “You’re mine, my crewmate, my Shitty Cook, mine - and if you ever feel anything less than everything to me then know that’s not true. Because I’d break a sword for you, Sanji.”
Sanji sobbed. Overwhelmed and struggling through shock because he struggled in believing he was loved. No matter how much he knew he was, he really struggled to believe it.
(Luffy would never forget nor forgive those biological-bastards for beating that into him. For starving and suffocating that into him.)
Nami, Usopp, Robin, Chopper, Franky, Brook, Yamato, Carrot, Vivi (who Luffy had made sure was here because she was his ), and Torao’s crew said their pieces - and Sanji was full on crying by the time they finished. Then Torao spoke last, because emotions were like pulling teeth and nails and a liver from him.
“You…” He cleared his throat, tattooed knuckles rippling as his fingers twitched, “You mean as much to me as the body needs the heart. You… I respect you, admire you- Sanji if you ever allow yourself to feel less again I’ll be pissed because you mean a lot to me you fucker. A lot.”
Not very well executed, but for Torao that was amazing. Bepo was even smiling in pride.
Sanji was sobbing, ugly sobbing, and Luffy crouched down near him, kissed his hair, and then concluded his speech with with, “I made you your favourite.” He lifted the lid and the spicy seafood pasta had Sanji shuddering with tears and he turned into Luffy’s open shoulder and cried.
“Thank you.” He croaked sometime later, eating his food in big mouthfuls as he savoured the dish, “Thank you, Luffy.”
Luffy’s mouth was equally stuffed with food and he grinned.
Sanji stared at his food, and with this small smile Luffy’s heart felt ecstatic at seeing, Sanji ate his food. The entire massive plate of it.
(Luffy fed him from then on. They all did. It got to the point where news outlets caught on to the Strawhats always feeding their cook and it was speculation until the end of their days as to why he was always fed. And why he always grinned when he was.)
Luffy and Sanji were pushed into the living room (smaller and smaller in size when both the Strawhats and Heart pirate crews in the home, on that island they claimed as their own) everyone else cleaning the kitchen up.
“Thank you.” Sanji said again.
Luffy made sure his cook was wrapped in a massive hug and merely said, “Tomorrow, wake me up to help with breakfast, okay? I can’t promise to be up and lively right away, but I want to help.”
“But-”
Luffy knew Sanji cooked with the Heart pirates who were chefs too, but Luffy cut him off before he could say that.
“No.” And he hugged his cook tighter, “I’ll cook with you tomorrow morning. I’m not stealin’ your job, but… But I wanna cook with Sanji sometimes. To remind him that I love him so fucking much I think my heart might burst.”
A quiet, timid but sincere and raw, “I love you too.” Only made Luffy smile.
Luffy had never wanted to cook.
Funny that - he was now a Chef.
He kissed his Cook's head and cuddled him closer, happy and content because he had a family he could love and a family who loved him back.
Monkey D. Luffy had never wished to cook. Then he learned and now he was a chef.
Naturally… it was for his Cook.