Chapter Text
Sanji’s just rolled up the sleeve of his borrowed hoodie for what feels like the hundredth time when the main door to the galley cracks open and Usopp pops his head in. The sniper takes a quick look at him, before huffing out a quiet laugh and propping his shoulder against the doorframe.
“Hey man,” he says brightly. “Have you got a second?”
“Uh sure,” Sanji replies. Moving to return to the vegetables he’d been slicing until his clothing had gotten in the way, he gestures at the counter in front of him. “Pull up a stool. Also, can I get you anything?”
“Nah, I’m good,” Usopp assures him. Shuffling forward awkwardly, he pushes the galley door the rest of the way open with his foot, a move that turns out to be necessary because his arms are loaded down with a small wooden crate. “I brought you something. Ignore the box, though. It was just the best thing I had on hand for transport.”
“Is it new ingredients?” Sanji asks, curious. Setting his knife down, he once more fiddles with his sleeve, unsurprised when it slides down over his wrist yet again due to the fact that it’s about three sizes too big for him.
Taking in Sanji’s annoyed huff, Usopp follows his gaze down to the offending article of clothing and lets out a quiet chuckle. “I’m actually here to offer you a hand with that,” he says, nodding at Sanji’s arm.
“Sorry?” Sanji asks, confused. He rolls the sleeve up past his elbow, hoping that might give him a longer reprieve before it slides down again, and then repeats the motion with the one on the opposite side. “Unless you’ve got a sewing machine in there, I don’t see how you can fix this.”
“I don’t,” Usopp admits, “but that’s not actually a bad idea. Maybe someone should talk to Nami about getting one for the ship. Regardless, however, just like your new wardrobe, that’ll have to wait until we hit the next island. Which is where I come in.”
Hefting the box onto the counter, he gives it a tiny pat and then offers Sanji an embarrassed grin. “I know most of it won’t be your style, or as nice as what you’re used to, but I figured some of my stuff might fit you better than Zoro’s. Also, I guarantee you it’s all seen the inside of the washing machine more often.”
Confused, Sanji reaches his hand into the box, prodding carefully at the contents. It’s clothing, he realizes belatedly, most of it more worn in and colourful than what he usually wears, but clean and obviously well cared for. He runs his fingers over a soft t-shirt, the fabric feeling gentle against his skin, and feels a lump start forming in his throat.
“Usopp,” he says thickly. “You didn’t have to do this. I can make do with what I’ve got until we reach land.”
“Oh please,” Usopp retorts. “You’ve got one outfit that you came on board with, which you fought a major enemy while wearing, and that’s it. I can’t subject you to that and whatever you managed to scrounge out of Zoro’s locker for however long it takes us to get you sorted. It’s a minor miracle you found a single sweater without any bloodstains.”
In answer, Sanji flips up the hem of the pale blue hoodie he’s wearing, revealing a faded patch of red on the inside.
Usopp lets out a pained groan. “I rest my case.” Settling himself down on one of the galley stools, he flaps a hand at the box. “Go on, take a look. I promise not to be offended if there’s anything in it that you really hate.”
“I don’t have to look to know it’ll all be fine,” Sanji assures him. “It’s just - ” He bites his lip, unsure of how to explain the issue. “I don’t have anything to repay you with.”
Usopp blinks, his friendly smile morphing into a frown. “You don’t have to repay me,” he says slowly. “It’s a gift. Kind of a ‘welcome to your new home’ present. I even washed it all before coming in here and everything.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Sanji insists. “And there’s way more stuff in here than I need. You should keep most of it since it’s your clothing.”
Now Usopp makes a scoffing sound. “None of that’s my work clothes or most of my regular day to day stuff. It’s the nicer things that I don’t have much of an excuse to wear. Or, well, nicer by my standards, anyway. You’re not putting me out by taking it if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Still …” Sanji says. “It’s too much.”
“Man, you’re really not good at accepting gifts, are you?” Usopp asks. His tone is glib, suggesting that he’s trying to play the comment off as a joke, but his keen eye doesn’t miss Sanji’s resulting flinch. “Whoa, hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Sanji says hurriedly, scrubbing at his face with one hand.
“Bullshit,” Usopp replies succinctly. “It’s cool, you can tell me. Or - I could go find Zoro if that would be better? I’m pretty sure I saw him napping on the lawn when I came in here, so -“
“Please,” Sanji cuts him off with a ragged exclamation. “Do not go get Zoro. I can’t go running to him every time I … have a moment. That’s not fair to anyone.”
“Really don’t think he’d care, but it’s your call,” Usopp allows. “Can I help then?”
Sanji shrugs weakly. “It’s just … I think maybe I’m no good at accepting gifts because no one’s ever given me one before. Not in the traditional sense, anyway.”
Usopp stares at him, his expression so boggled that Sanji has to fight the urge to turn away and hide the way his face has no doubt turned beat red. “That’s - oh my god,” the sniper says faintly. “Right, so, I think I need to give you something else now, which is a hug. Is that okay?”
“Um, I guess so?” Sanji says, not quite following his logic. “If you want.”
“I very much want,” Usopp confirms. “In fact, I want to so badly I’m pretty sure I’ve come down with a serious case of I-have-to-hug-my-friend-right-now-or-I-will-combust disease. I may need to go see Chopper if you deny me the cure.”
Sanji lets out a strained laugh. “Well I don’t want that on my conscience, so okay.”
“Great. C’mere.” Clambering out of his seat, Usopp stands and promptly wraps him in a surprisingly firm hug. “You’re going to be so good for the crew, Sanji,” he murmurs. “And we are all so happy you’re here.”
“You just like that I made Zoro take a shower two days in a row,” Sanji chokes, fisting his hands in the back of Usopp’s shirt and clinging to him.
“Actually, I was more so thinking about those pancakes you made for breakfast,” Usopp says, holding him back just as tight. “I haven’t yet been able to process your other miracle. Next thing I know you’ll teach him to chew with his mouth closed.”
“Oh that’s happening,” Sanji promises. “He might not realize it yet, but it is.”
Usopp laughs. “If anyone can do it, it’s you.”