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In the beginning it’s just Luffy and Zoro. The entirety of the Straw Hat Pirates, the two of them.
Given…everything, about how they met, there’s almost nothing Luffy can do that really surprises Zoro, no extreme of impulse, inappropriately-timed laughter, recklessness. Stubbornness. He loses track of how many times he drags Luffy from the water, where he’d been pulled in pursuit of theeeee biggest fish Zoro, you shoulda seen it!!, refusing to release his grasp until Zoro yanks him back.
For days and days, it’s nothing but the water and the sky and Luffy, his boundless energy, his constant questions, Zoro tripping over his endless limbs on a very much not-endless boat.
All this time on the sea is great for building his balance, though – he’s never had so much opportunity for sword practice on a moving surface, their little boat catching each lapping wave.
Zoro’s as happy as Luffy to stop at every island they find. Get fresh water, eat something besides fish. Stretch out under the stars.
Lying back in the sand with Luffy snoring within arm’s reach, Zoro feels a kind of…peace.
He’d known what he was doing, when he’d agreed to join this kid’s pirate crew; had felt it settle inside him, a rock sending ripples, coming to rest deep down in the water.
He’s a pirate now, sure, yeah, but so far it’s…
Zoro turns his head, catches the little upward turn in the corners of Luffy’s mouth, caught in some happy dream, face lit up by the moon.
For now he’s just with Luffy. And he’ll take everything else as it comes.
--
It takes a while for Sanji to feel like he knows what to expect from these people. His…crewmates.
It’s after the fight with Arlong, when they’re out to sea for days at a time, that Sanji finds Zoro and Luffy asleep out on the deck. Zoro’s propped up against the mast, his swords next to him. Luffy’s lying perpendicular, his head in Zoro’s lap, limbs splayed everywhere. One of his arms is flung across Zoro’s legs. The other hand is held loosely in one of Zoro’s.
Sanji freezes, feeling like maybe he’s intruding on something private, looks around to see if Usopp or Nami are seeing this, seeing him seeing them—and when he looks back down Zoro’s eyes are open, watching him. Calm. Sanji looks at him and doesn’t know what his own face is doing, what expression he’s making. Luffy sleeps on, snoring every few breaths, oblivious. There’s a literal spit bubble coming out of his mouth.
Zoro doesn’t look angry, or embarrassed. When Sanji says nothing, just standing there, Zoro raises an eyebrow like he’s waiting for him, and, nothing forthcoming, closes his eyes again. Just like that. To all appearances he’s back asleep in seconds.
So this is…something they do, huh. Is this something special that Zoro and Luffy do? Or is it just part of being pirates? Part of being…crewmates?
He’d get it if they were fucking, of course, but this doesn’t seem like that, or at least, if they’re fucking this is something else on top of that. There’s no urgency in the touch, just. Ease. Familiarity.
Sanji’s never sat like that with someone before. Never – touched someone like that before.
He finds himself back in the galley, staring down at the stovetop, one hand outstretched like he was reaching for something, a knife, a pan, but there’s nothing there, there’s nothing…Sanji shakes his head, hard, and reaches instead for a cigarette, breathes in deep.
Exhales.
There’s no way he could…this is just. A thing that Luffy and Zoro do, apparently. They sleep together. Or – nap together. Whatever. It’s fine, it’s not a big deal. Those two have known each other a long time, or longest, anyway, although how long that is exactly Sanji isn’t sure. Maybe not…all that long, actually, if they’ve been getting by so far with no cook on the ship. And they’re all his age, right, or close anyway, so this can’t be…they can’t be…
Right?
Sanji grinds the heel of his palm into his forehead and finishes off the cigarette, flicks the butt out the porthole.
Luffy and Zoro are…sleeping, so they don’t need a snack, but surely Nami does. Yes, a light yet satisfying snack and a cool refreshing drink for Nami! That’s what he should be working on now.
--
Days later Sanji is cooking vegetables for a lunch stir-fry, calculating how many more meals he can get out of the current stockpile – three meals a day is one thing, but accommodating Luffy’s snack schedule is something else again – when he hears the door crash open behind him. He doesn’t bother to turn, so he’s surprised when he doesn’t just hear Luffy but is surrounded by him, Luffy bouncing himself from the doorframe to press along Sanji’s back, hands clutching his shoulders, neck stretching unnaturally long to bring his nose close to the steaming food.
Sanji’s so taken aback that it takes him a second to remember to scold Luffy about interrupting his cooking – and by the time he does, Luffy’s legs have snapped to his torso from their starting point by the door, wrapping tight around Sanji’s waist. The impact sends Sanji stumbling against the counter and already Luffy’s laughing, loud, right in his ear –
“Sanji! It’s lunchtime, right? Now? Soon? Now, right?”
His legs are tight around Sanji’s waist and his arms have come around Sanji’s chest and crossed, grabbing the opposite shoulders, the whole length of his chest pressed tight and close. Sanji can feel the vibration when he talks, the snap of the rubber resonating in his bones.
Luffy’s hair is tickling the back of his neck.
The whole thing is – it’s –
For a long second Sanji is frozen.
“Sanji?”
It feels –
He’s warm. Sanji never realized that Luffy’s body ran so hot. He can feel it, through the layers of clothes between them. Can feel Luffy’s chest too, rising and falling against his back.
“Saaaaaanji? What’s up? This looks done, I’ll take some, just a little snack before lunch - ”
Faster than thought, Sanji’s hand stretches out, without central input, to grab Luffy’s where it was reaching right into the pan – and then with the speed of much practice, his other hand snags Luffy’s where it was sneaking around the other side. And then Sanji’s there, holding both of Luffy’s hands. It’s just the barest second, before Luffy is using the grip to sag backwards, off of Sanji’s back, suspended by his arms as they hang back off Sanji’s shoulders.
“Saaaaanji! I’m gonna faint, I’m so hungry! It’s lunchtime, right? Can’t I have some?”
It’s his most annoying, whining voice. He’s making a fuss in Sanji’s kitchen. The vegetables are going to get over-browned and dry and the whole meal will be –
His legs are still locked around Sanji’s waist. His hands are held tight in Sanji’s grip.
Sanji transfers Luffy’s right hand to his left, holds both of Luffy’s hands together and picks up his chopsticks. He scoops up a few of the sliced vegetables from the pan and lowers the mouthful down by his side, closer to where Luffy’s head is probably resting on the ground. He doesn’t turn, but he feels it when Luffy stretches up for the bite, there and gone, vegetables devoured.
“Soooo good, Sanji! But I want meeeat! There’s gonna be meat for lunch, right?”
Sanji feels the smile on his face before he recognizes the feeling in himself.
This is fine; this is good. It’s just Luffy. All Luffy, only Luffy.
He puts down the chopsticks, picks up his spatula. Shifts his grip on Luffy’s hands to press them tight against his chest.
“You gotta be patient, Luffy! Good food takes time! And when did I ever serve you a meal without meat, huh?”
Luffy laughs and Sanji can feel that in his chest, too.
Luffy hangs there, chattering about the fish he and Usopp came this close to catching this morning, the new pole-net hybrid Usopp is working on that’s going to bring in a new fish every minute and you’ll cook it all, Sanji, right? Mmmmm, fish fritters, skewers, onigiri, ooooh I want onigiri, can you make that for lunch tomorrow, Sanji? and his hands stay held tight in Sanji’s until it’s time to call the others to the table.
--
Zoro can’t figure out why the cook takes such an instant dislike to him. No, it’s more than dislike. It’s like…loathing. From the first word he ever says it’s like Zoro’s already pissed him off.
And fuck it, whatever, if he’s gonna be like that, fine. Zoro wasn’t looking for any new friends. Doesn’t need ‘em. The cook made his agreement with Luffy, like the rest of them, and joined the crew. If he wants to be an asshole, well, at least Zoro’s got no complaints about the food.
…But it bothers him. What did he even do to make this guy hate him?
The question comes back to him in moments when he’s used to having a clear mind. It’s been a long time since Zoro lost count of his reps, and he spits a curse at himself on the morning it happens, starts again from zero.
At least it’s no longer affecting his sleep – those first few nights, Zoro kept waking up every hour or so from a doze, unable to sleep soundly, too aware that there was someone in the same room who radiated hostility toward him. Not that he was ever awake when Zoro looked over – but it had felt like leaving his belly exposed mid-fight.
And he’d had too much of that recently already.
Could it be…
Zoro almost wishes the thought wouldn’t take shape, can’t stand the rush of shame it brings with it when it does.
Could it be that the cook…scorns him? For his failure, his defeat?
He’d seen Zoro, that day, saw the whole fight. From beginning to end. Zoro will live with the shame for the rest of his life, and carry the scar to prove it.
By the end of it all, there had only been three people left in the world: Zoro, and Mihawk, and Luffy. Zoro had known only pain, and purpose. He experienced the unity, the perfect synthesis, of those two forces; it was like there was nothing else inside his mind, no other shape to his body. He’d felt a clarity of a kind that he’d never experienced before, and knew that he’d never feel again until the moment of his death.
And when he made that vow to Luffy, it was like the words rose right out of his chest, some voice speaking them that wasn’t the voice in his throat, rising up from somewhere deeper than thought.
There had been no other person to reach with those words; the great clarity of the pain and the purpose and the vow, they were all and only for Luffy. Who had heard, and accepted, as Zoro had known he would; and it was then that Zoro could rest.
But he knows that other people had been there. Lots of people, actually, and the cook had been one of them. Had seen Zoro challenge Mihawk, and had seen him lose.
And maybe that was why he was so full of loathing, right from the start. Maybe it was…disgust, for Zoro’s weakness.
How could Zoro blame him, for that?
So if that’s how it’s gonna be, fine. But he’s not gonna take it lying down; if that’s how the cook wants it to be, well, Zoro’ll give as good as he gets.
And as time passes, he’ll…get used to it. Yeah. The anger, the scorn, the disgust, it’ll…
He’ll get used to it.
--
Usopp really can’t believe it’s real, sometimes, still. He wakes up in his hammock belowdecks, sometimes to a crash from above, sometimes to Luffy cackling, or just in the quiet, and he has to take a second to remind himself – it all really happened! He’s really on a pirate ship! Out at sea, no turning back.
He could never be disloyal to the memory of the Usopp Pirates, his stalwart crew, their great adventures, but life on the ship is is just so much more than he ever knew anything could be. It never stops – there’s no going home at the end of the day. They are home. The sun rises and sets and rises again over the East Blue on all of them, together, and Merry carrying them.
Can it really be like this? Forever, every day, being pirates together?
Of course the life of a pirate often isn’t a long one – Usopp knows that. The first big storm they’d been in after he joined the crew, he’d been convinced that this was it, this was the end. And okay, maybe he’d overreacted just a tiny bit, but like – storms are scary! Dangerous! Like the massive fish he saw just over the rail the other day, deeeeep down in the water, that fish could have eaten the ship whole, one bite and boom! Gone, just like that, the end of the great Captain Usopp and his faithful crew. It could happen! It still might!
After that first storm, when the winds had died down and they’d taken the sails back up, Usopp had collapsed, panting, to the deck, his arms aching, hands numb where he’d clutched at the ropes. He’d lost a nail, somewhere in there. Blood trickled down his face where something had smacked into him, and he’d thought, never again. Who could live like this? They’d practically died!
Just then Luffy had flopped down beside him and let out a huge sigh, AAAahhhhhhhhh!, his chest expanding beyond human proportions before he lay still. Usopp looked over and saw his face was slack, like he’d gone to sleep right there on the spot, eyes closed and mouth hanging open. But then Luffy’s eyes opened again and he looked right at Usopp, his mouth stretching wide into a grin, and there was something there that was – it was like Luffy’s body was tired but his eyes were wide awake, there was a, a light in them –
And then Luffy yawned, his whole face stretching in a way that was the grossest, coolest thing Usopp had ever seen, and his eyes closed again.
And Usopp had thought, okay. Maybe it could be okay, to go through that again.
He was still lying there, didn’t think he could get up, when Zoro walked over, feet dragging on the deck; without a word, he stretched out on Luffy’s other side, eyes already closed. He seemed to fall asleep just as quickly as Luffy apparently had, and Usopp thought, all right, I’ll just close my eyes a bit too, just for a second. And so he only heard, rather than saw, Sanji stumble over and lie down right down next to him, and okay, that’s what we’re doing, time for a rest for everyone. That was…that was good. Who knew the deck could feel so comfortable…
So he didn’t even hear Nami walk over and stand there for long seconds, didn’t hear her sigh, or see her eventually, slowly, sink down onto the deck, sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees, right next to Luffy’s head.
He doesn’t hear or see anything at all, in fact, until the next morning, when he wakes to the sound of voices, and the feel of the sun on his face, and Merry solid below him, and he thinks - he would do anything, anything, to have this for the rest of his life.
--
Sometimes Nami can’t believe that she’s really ended up on a ship surrounded by a bunch of…boys. And in the truest, most obnoxious sense – loud, messy, careless, with minimal interest in personal hygiene. Sanji, at least, usually seems like he’s trying to act like a grown-up, but then one of the others gets him wound up and it all flies out the window.
Dealing with them, plus the actual work of being the ship’s navigator, keeps her busy enough most days that she doesn’t really think about it. But it’s funny, in a way, because even living with more people than she has before in her life, she still…
At first, before, she’d had to fight against any little suggestion of a feeling that she might maybe be getting attached to them. She hadn’t done too well with that, in the end. But she had tried, so hard, to keep herself separate from them. To not get invested, or at least not in anything more than a profitable venture. A scam.
But after the return to Cocoyashi, everything had changed. It’s not easy to talk about, or even think about, everything that had happened. The way the fear and the grief had turned to anger inside of her, or maybe the anger had always been there and it was only now that it could come out, but the way it did, the way the anger had turned into – violence….
Nami feels like a stranger to herself, sometimes, when she thinks about the day, the knife, the blood. Like she knows everything that led her to that moment, and knows that she did it, but can’t connect herself to the state of mind she’d been in when it happened.
Where did anger like that go? Was all of that still…inside her? Did changing the tattoo make it all go away, like releasing a curse, or was it all in there, still, somewhere?
It’s nothing like the exasperation she feels when the boys leave wet towels on the bathroom floor, or even the rage that day Luffy was careless taking tangerines from Bellemere’s trees and snapped one of the little branches. Nothing like when she almost trips over Zoro for the dozenth time, where he’s stretched out his long legs for an afternoon nap, or when Usopp’s latest exploding projectile project explodes where and when it’s not supposed to and makes her spill ink across one of her charts. That’s just…boys.
And she is invested in them. She does…care. She doesn’t need to push that thought away anymore, but it’s still hard to let herself feel it. She cares about them. All of them, together, and this life they’ve made for themselves. Are still making.
Still, even with all of them around, even with the bond that ties them all together, sometimes it’s…
Like, the boys all sleep together, and there’s no way she’d ever want to sleep in that room, it must be terrible, all the clothes thrown everywhere and gross snoring noises and the way they’re all…breathing, and peaceful, and, and close, and…
For sure, yeah, no way she’d ever want to be anywhere near that.
But still it’s…
The thought returns to her, won’t go away, when she watches the stars at night. Sometimes her room is too small, too quiet, peaceful but also – empty. But when she’s out on the deck the world feels full, of stars and wind and the sound of the waves, and she spends more nights out here than inside, probably. It’s better like this, but there’s something that’s just…
She’s spent lots of nights like this, traveling on her own, guided by the stars, but it’s never felt so…
Before she knows what she’s doing she’s made her way to the mast rigging and is starting the climb up.
It’s no good to think about it. Better to just worry about thinking about it later.
He hears her coming, of course, and turns around to beam at her from where he was slouched over the edge of the crow’s nest. “Nami! You’re up so late! Wanna look at the stars with me?”
Before she can think about it – no thinking allowed – she’s swung herself in to sit down beside him. In the same motion, no stopping to question, she picks up his arm and pulls it around herself, so it rests on her shoulders. She tilts her head back to the sky, the back of her neck against his bicep, and does not, does not look over at him.
He doesn’t say anything, still looking at her – still waiting, she realizes, for her to answer his question. Nothing more.
“Did you learn star stories growing up, Luffy?”
“Of course! Makino-san taught me lots! They look a little different here than at home, but I figure maybe they just got stretched, like me! Like, that one over there, that’s the tiger, but he’s got a looooong nose now, like Usopp! And those are the seagulls, but it looks like there’s a new one now…hey, maybe they’re picking up new crew members, just like us!”
Nami turns to look and he grins at her, bright as another star, before turning back to the sky.
She stays there with him, resting under the weight of his arm, until the sky turns pink with dawn.