Chapter Text
In the year since opening All Blue Roasters, Sanji had gotten pretty good at predicting what kinds of coffee each customer was most likely to want. He got a pretty wide variety of people visiting the shop. Its location, on the edge of a popular neighborhood and half a block from a major bus line, led to an eclectic mix of regulars and one-off customers.
There were the commuters who’d forgotten to make coffee at home and just wanted a cup of drip ASAP. The moms who woke up early and wanted something fun & syrupy to liven their morning. The hipsters who’d order espressos and add in a pile of sugar on the sly rather than just ordering something sweet. The health nuts who’d given up caffeine but enjoyed his collection of shrubs and flavored seltzers. The college students, who could go either way on their orders’ complexity, but generally wanted the largest size of whatever they ended up choosing.
Sanji didn’t always get it right, but over time, he’d found that ringing up and prepping his best guess once he saw the customer approach usually ended up saving him time in the long run, especially with repeat customers.
So when he saw a fairly nondescript man walk into the coffee shop one summer day, Sanji clocked his practical work clothes, muddy shoes, tired eyes, and muscled forearms, then quickly checked the levels on his carafes to make sure their drip coffee was fresh. He was pretty sure the guy had been in before, but just in case, Sanji also went ahead and checked the grinder for his espresso roast - the guy did have dyed hair, after all.
“Hey there,” Sanji said as the man approached the counter, offering him an easy smile as he recognized the trio of earrings dangling from the man’s left ear. Knew it. “Just black coffee for you, right?”
The guy’s eyes flicked up the menu briefly before looking down to the register, avoiding Sanji’s gaze.
“Yeah, a small one. Thanks,” he grunted.
Sanji smiled, internally congratulating himself on having already rung the guy up accurately. “Wonderful,” he replied. “Anything else?”
The man looked up then, their eyes locking for a moment. Piercing gray met blue, and Sanji felt his smile falter as the other man swallowed nervously.
“Can you add a shot of blueberry to it?” the man asked, eyes darting up to the menu quickly before looking back down to the register.
Sanji blinked. “Blueberry? Like the syrup?” he repeated, unsure if he’d misheard something.
The man nodded, fumbling with his wallet. Sanji’s mouth opened briefly, then closed it again.
The thing was, Sanji had a lot of weird syrups on the menu. Well, not weird weird, but more of a variety than you’d find at a regular coffee shop. But while in theory, you could certainly add whatever you wanted to any beverage, they weren’t meant for coffee. They were meant for sodas - housemade, relatively low sugar, meant to be stirred into seltzer and served over ice on a hot day. It was a mainstay of the shop in the summer, when his regulars would come in for an iced latte and want a second drink to tide them over while they sat outside and chatted about their jobs or school or shitty dates. It was a fun experiment for Sanji, a way to keep things interesting. Occasionally he was asked to blend some of the tamer flavors with cold brew or an iced latte - usually by some kid who really wanted a frappuccino but didn’t want to walk the half mile from the bus line to get to a Starbucks.
But the idea that someone might want strawberry-hibiscus, or pineapple-ginger, or, or blueberry mixed into plain drip coffee was utterly alien to him.
That said, Sanji was far too professional to gape at a customer’s order, no matter how…puzzling it might be.
“That’ll be $2.16,” he replied, not missing a beat despite his internal screaming.
Blueberry Guy looked up at the menu quickly and frowned, nose scrunching (adorably, Sanji idly noted) in confusion. “Doesn’t the flavor shot cost extra?” he asked.
“Ah,” Sanji looked down at the register, realizing he’d forgotten to add the shot in his confusion over the odd request. “Not today,” he replied, giving the man a wink and a cheeky grin to cover his error.
A light blush spread across Blueberry Guy’s face as he handed over a five dollar bill. He plunked his change into the tip jar when Sanji handed it back to him.
“One moment and I’ll have that out to you.” Sanji offered Blueberry Guy a quick smile and a small wave before turning back to the large brewer. He poured out a small to-go cup from the carafe, leaving a bit more room at the top than usual to allow space for the syrup.
Shit, the syrup.
Sanji walked over to the opposite end of the counter, pursing his lips as he looked at his assortment of syrups. How many fucking pumps was he supposed to give this guy?
He said “a shot,” so I could just do one, but who knows if you’d even be able to taste the flavor with that. If he’s trying to recreate some drink from Starbucks or Tiktok, it’s probably more like four...unless this is some weird shit he’s used to making at home…
Turning away for a moment, Sanji took a peek at Blueberry Guy, squinting to see if he could get any indication of flavor preferences from the guy without having to actually ask him how to make his strange order.
He was leaning against a small table, looking out the window and shooting occasional glances over to the counter. Not sitting, probably in a rush. A point against sweetening it.
Three gold earrings dangled from one ear, a surprisingly fashionable feature that separated Blueberry Guy from the more hipster-y meatheads who frequented the cafe. Maybe a point for recreating some colorful influencer shit?
Fuck it. Sanji quickly added two pumps of blueberry syrup to the cup, stirring it in efficiently before popping a lid onto the cup.
“One small blueberry coffee,” he called, giving Blueberry Guy another wink when he started at the sudden noise in the quiet of the shop. “Here ya go,” Sanji grinned, reaching over the counter to hand Blueberry his drink.
Their fingers touched a moment and Sanji quickly grabbed the top of the cup when Blueberry jolted, almost dropping the whole thing.
“You got it?” Sanji asked, trying not to laugh at the clumsiness of the handoff.
“Yeah,” Blueberry grunted. A flush crept over his face as he avoided Sanji’s gaze, taking a sip from his coffee. He shot Sanji a shaky thumbs up before turning and walking out of the shop, weird coffee in hand.
Sanji watched him go, staring out the window long after the guy had left his line of sight.
Weird.
---
“You don’t understand, Nami, this guy was a normal dude. The most regular guy we’ve had come in here since we opened,” Sanji explained, raising his voice to be heard over the sound of the grinder.
“I just don’t think it’s that weird, sweetie,” his barista replied, in the midst of tying back her hair. “I mean, Luffy orders some 12-flavor monstrosity every week and you aren’t obsessed with him.”
Sanji shuddered, thinking of the extra-large, quadruple shot, chai-vanilla-lavender-grapefruit iced latte he’d given their excitable regular only a couple days before. “Ok yes,” he admitted, pulling out the portafilter. “But that’s what most of the weird orders are like,” he continued, quickly tamping down the grounds. “It’s a bunch of maximalist shit, overly sweet with a billion flavors.”
He slotted the portafilter into place, hitting the release valve for water and watching as coffee started pouring into the mug below. “But this was just,” he stopped, searching for words. “The most basic it gets, right? Small black coffee. But then there’s this little incongruous add-on that just makes the whole thing insane. It’s like the guy’s a simple, regular man, but has something deeply wrong with him.”
Nami shuddered, grabbing the offered mug from Sanji and carefully pouring in steamed milk, delicately building out flower petals in the foam. “Well now he sounds like a serial killer.”
Sanji chuckled, turning away to quickly brew another shot. Despite being his longest-running employee, Nami was a bit wary of the espresso machine, complaining that the spurts of steam and old grounds stained her otherwise impeccable wardrobe. But, she was a master at keeping the books and utterly unmatched at latte art. While they usually didn’t have time to really finesse each cup during rushes, if the lines were short, their assembly line ensured customers got a nicer-than-average drink - expertly brewed and beautiful to look at. It helped that Nami had become one of Sanji’s closest friends. The long days went by faster when he could shoot the shit during his time on the floor.
Which is why, after meeting Blueberry Guy, Sanji had felt compelled to tell Nami all his various theories regarding what the man’s deal could possibly be.
“So have you tried it?” Nami asked after handing an elegantly decorated latte off to a smiling customer.
“Tried what?” Sanji asked, looking up from the grinder.
“The coffee,” Nami replied, eyebrows climbing high on her face. “The coffee you’ve been telling me about for months? The small black coffee with a shot of blueberry - the serial killer coffee?” Her jaw dropped open in disbelief. “You’re seriously telling me you’ve never thought to try it yourself?”
Sanji’s face reddened and he scratched the back of his neck with one hand. “It honestly never occurred to me. I just kinda figure it’ll be bad?”
“Well duh, it’ll be bad,” Nami scoffed. “But if you really want to figure this guy out, isn’t the first step to taste his weird drink?”
Sanji blinked for a moment before moving over to the carafe like a man possessed. How the fuck had this never occurred to him before? he berated himself as he poured the small coffee and added two pumps of blueberry syrup.
He stirred the coffee quickly, staring at it with apprehension. “If this shit makes me go insane, you can have the shop,” Sanji joked as Nami stared at him, eyes wide with anticipation.
“Well. Here goes nothing.” Sanji brought the cup to his lips, tipping it back and taking a slow sip of the coffee.
It wasn’t…bad, exactly. The blueberry was pretty faint against the tang of the coffee, but it was still notably present. He took another sip, closing his eyes.
There might be something to this, Sanji thought, savoring the whiff of blueberry that lingered in his mouth as he drank, the fruity aftertaste working shockingly well against the bitterness of the dark roast. It reminded him of red wine, he realized with a start. Like the notes in a malbec or aged tempranillo, in the way the tart acidity brushed up against smoke.
It definitely wasn’t something Sanji would make himself, but as he sipped at the drink, he found himself viewing Blueberry Guy with less disdain and more curiosity.
Maybe he’s an alcoholic and needs everything he drinks to taste like booze, he thought idly, before chastising himself for the judgemental thought. Or maybe he just dipped a blueberry muffin into his coffee once and liked the taste.
“So?” Nami asked, crossing her arms and leaning into Sanji’s face to squint at him. “Feeling any strange blueberry urges?“
Sanji laughed to cover the blush that inevitably stained his cheeks at her close proximity. “None yet, dear!”
“Well, is it any good?” she demanded, eyeing the cup with disdain.
He shrugged, taking another sip sheepishly. “It’s decent. Definitely not as bad as I thought it would be.”
Nami pursed her lips doubtfully. “It still sounds wacky to me, but we’ve had weirder specials. I don’t really care what you put in as long as you let me charge extra for them.”
“No no, it’s definitely not something we’re adding to the menu,” Sanji assured her. “It was just, I dunno. Anticlimactic.”
The sound of the front door opening effectively ended the conversation, as Nami turned to the register to greet one of their regulars. Sanji put the cup down next to his station, knowing he’d have to finish it before the day was out, and went back to work.
---
The next time Sanji caught sight of green hair and broad shoulders, just after New Year’s, he didn’t even bother waiting for the guy to come inside before grabbing a mug and filling it with black coffee.
He walked over to the syrups as Blueberry Guy approached the counter, adding two pumps before returning to the register with a smile. “Welcome back! Small black coffee with a shot of blueberry, right?”
Sanji held out the mug, smiling expectantly at Blueberry Guy, who stared frozen at him.
Ah shit, he thought, feeling his smile falter as the man stood motionless. Maybe it’s not him. Sanji usually had a decent memory for faces, especially regulars and others with distinct orders, but it had been half a year since he’d last seen Blueberry Guy. He supposed there could be multiple dudes in the area with green hair and gold earrings.
“Or I can make you something else,” he started, retracting the mug and cursing inwardly when he realized his probable error. “Or here, I can put this in a to-go cup, or-“
“No,” Blueberry Guy lurched forward, taking the offered mug from Sanji. “My favorite,” he mumbled. “Thanks for remembering.”
“Oh good,” Sanji laughed, huffing out a sigh of relief. “Thought I was going crazy.”
He saw Blueberry Guy reach for his wallet and waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. On the house,” Sanji said, figuring it was the least he could do after creating so much awkwardness. “I’m Sanji, by the way,” he offered. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Zoro,” replied Blueberry Guy, before taking a small sip of his drink. He gave Sanji another small thumbs up, making him chuckle before returning the cheesy gesture.
“Don’t be a stranger, Zoro,” Sanji found himself saying as the man turned away. Zoro turned, giving Sanji a small nod before sinking into a squishy armchair near the register. Sanji smiled to himself before turning to the next customer in line.
As his shift went on, Sanji caught himself stealing glances at Zoro on and off, noting down details for his mental Blueberry Guy case file.
He drank slowly, Sanji noted. It took over an hour for Zoro to finish his drink, despite it apparently being his favorite. He didn’t seem to have any interest in reading or working during his stay in the cafe, instead seemingly content to hang out and people-watch for the afternoon.
He still wore practical clothes, though his summer wardrobe of plain jeans and chambray work shirts had been replaced by a thick green jacket and scarf to combat the cold winds. After a while, Zoro removed the jacket, revealing a thin blue tank top that did very little to hide his broad chest or muscular arms. Sanji had to turn away when he caught himself rudely staring at cold-perked nipples.
Get it together, he berated himself, knowing Nami would have a field day if she’d caught him ogling another customer.
After a large rush of orders that had Sanji scrambling back and forth behind the counter, he looked back over to the armchair and found Zoro gone, empty mug neatly placed onto the return cart for dishes.
Sanji quieted the small ache in his chest that lamented the lack of a chance to talk more with the guy. He still needed to figure out what the deal was with the blueberry, after all.
---
It turned out, Sanji had plenty of almost-chances over the coming weeks, as Zoro - perhaps having finally found a cafe indulgent enough to fulfill all his blueberry dreams - had become a regular visitor to All Blue.
The first time Nami met Zoro, she took one look at him before giving Sanji a flatly unimpressed glare that made him want to sink into the floor, before stomping off to the back room, muttering angrily, “Of course the blueberry weirdo is hot, why did I expect anything different?” under her breath at a volume that made Sanji flush red as he hurried to make Zoro’s drink.
They’d fallen into a comfortable routine after a few visits. Zoro was still quiet, usually just taking his coffee wordlessly before settling into his usual armchair by the register, but Sanji had been able to learn a bit about him through sheer cheerful stubbornness.
After showing up to the shop one day covered in lawn clipping and grass stains, Zoro had revealed that he worked as a landscaper, and had found All Blue after visiting Franky’s Hardware across the street. He’d smiled politely through Sanji’s immediate jokes about the pile of grass on his head before clarifying that he specialized in moss and fern gardens rather than regular lawns. Sanji hadn’t missed a beat before updating his nickname for the man from “Blueberry Guy” to “Mosshead,” refusing to call him anything else after seeing how it got a rise out of the usually taciturn man. And besides, the way Zoro pouted whenever Sanji called him “mossy” was far too endearing to even think of using the man’s real name.
They had a lot in common, Sanji discovered. Both owned their own businesses and had to deal with increasingly picky clients. Like Sanji, Zoro was committed to delivering his best work possible even for ridiculous requests, once showing up to the shop with bandages up to his elbows after spending a morning painstakingly installing irrigation for a cluster of western sword ferns that a stubborn client had insisted be planted in the midst of their collection of cacti. Sanji had upgraded his drink to a medium out of sympathy.
It was nice, having a familiar face to chat with on slow days. Sanji had many regulars, of course, but there was something about Zoro that made talking to the reserved man feel easy, completely free of the strain he often felt when putting on a friendly face for customers.
And as much as he didn’t like to consider Nami’s teasing words, it certainly didn’t hurt that Zoro’s face was a nice one to look at.
---
On the first truly sunny day of the year, Sanji entered the shop in high spirits. Spring was around the corner, and with it, a chance to craft a new menu. Nami had told him she’d kill him if he took the orange blossom latte holiday special off the menu, but he still had plans for other updates - both for drinks and their small assortment of baked goods.
The day had been slow, so Sanji had been flipping through his recipe book when Zoro arrived, deep in concentration as he considered the logistical challenges of adding cheesecakes to the pastry rotation.
“Oh, hey you!” he startled when Zoro cleared his throat, finding the man shifting his weight in front of the register. “One sec-“
Sanji grabbed a to-go cup, writing Zoro’s name on it in green marker before filling it with coffee and blueberry syrup. “It’s almost spring, moss!” he cheered, handing Zoro his drink. “Been working on the new menu.” Sanji chuckled as he rang Zoro up, just charging him for a plain coffee, as usual. “Maybe I’ll work on blueberry scones for you, in case you ever want a snack to go with your coffee.”
Zoro nodded in assent, which Sanji knew from experience was likely the most he’d get out of the taciturn man. He kept chatting anyway, determined to get at least a grunt today.
“You know,” Sanji started, a smile curling at his lips as he handed back Zoro’s change. “I’ve been wondering, why the blueberry?” He grinned, leaning an elbow on the counter and resting his chin on one hand, smiling up at Zoro playfully. “It’s not the weirdest order I’ve had, but it’s definitely not common. I tried it myself once, but I admit I didn’t really see the appeal.”
He watched as Zoro’s throat bobbed, chuckling a bit as the man’s jaw twitched in the way it always did when Sanji turned too much attention onto him.
Sanji wasn’t expecting any sort of detailed explanation at this point. Just a simple, It reminds me of wine, or I really love blueberry jam, or even a grunted I dunno, I just like it.
So he was completely taken off guard when Zoro opened his mouth, red-faced, and loudly blurted out, “I wanted you to notice me.”
“Oh.” Sanji lifted up off the counter, blinking as he felt his cheeks warm. “I’m sorry, what?”
Zoro gulped before pressing forward. “I thought you were handsome and nice, and I couldn’t figure out how to talk to you, but I wanted you to remember me.”
Sanji’s jaw dropped, flabbergasted as Zoro kept going.
“I thought if you knew me as a regular, I would eventually find a chance to ask you out,” he admitted, handsome face red as a tomato.
“Ah,” Sanji breathed, stunned at the entirely unexpected solution to the last eight months of obsession over the man’s drink.
They stared at each other a moment, neither one sure what to say.
“So…” Sanji started, raising an eyebrow expectantly.
“So?” Zoro jolted, apparently unaware that that wasn’t the end of their conversation. “So what?”
“Are you still going to?” Sanji asked, leaning in.
“Am I going to what?” Zoro replied, brows furrowed like Sanji had asked him a particularly difficult trivia question.
Sanji rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. Honestly. “You said the point of this was to ask me out. Are you going to?”
“No,” Zoro waved his hand frantically, taking several steps back from the register. “I’m an idiot, and now you think I’m an idiot, and-“
Oh this sweet fool, Sanji thought, fighting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose in impatience. “Maybe, but I really think you should go ahead and try-“
“Some other time,” Zoro interrupted, clutching his coffee close to his chest as he fled the store.
“Oh goddammit,” Sanji growled, taking a quick look around the quiet shop before darting out the door after him.
He made a beeline for the hardware store across the street, grabbing onto Zoro’s arm before he could disappear inside. “Just wait a minute, you absolute buffoon-“ He hauled Zoro around, turning him to face Sanji properly. Zoro was still bright red, a look of panic plastered onto his face. It was maybe the most adorable thing Sanji had seen in his life.
“You really are an idiot,” Sanji muttered, before sighing and giving Zoro a soft smile. “I’ll just do it for you. Zoro, will you go on a date with me?”
He watched as the tension lifted from Zoro’s face, softening into a shy smile.
“I don’t like blueberry in my coffee,” Zoro mumbled.
“That’s fine,” Sanji laughed, grabbing Zoro’s free hand and entwining their fingers together. “You have to finish that one, though.”
“Ok, but I just wanted you to know that before I said yes,” Zoro said, nervousness still evident as he rushed through his words.
Sanji smiled wide, feeling happiness fill his chest. “So that is a yes, then?”
Zoro tugged his hand free of Sanji’s hold and held it up in a ‘wait’ gesture. He then lifted the to-go cup to his lips and slammed back the rest of the coffee, chugging it down in a display that honestly made Sanji feel a little queasy.
“Never again,” Zoro panted, lobbing the cup into the trash can outside the entrance to the hardware store. He took Sanji’s hand again, stepping in closer. “But yes, that’s a yes.”
Sanji smiled at him, leaning in to place a chaste peck against Zoro’s lips. “Come on, mossy,” he said happily, tugging Zoro along as he stepped back towards the shop. “Let me make you something you’ll actually like.”