Archive of Our Own

"It’s not a big deal unless you make it a big deal.”  

Ever since Luffy had texted him last week inviting him to his frat's annual Halloween party, Sanji had spent the entire time repeating it over and over again. If he echoed it enough, maybe it would do something to unknot the anxiety in his chest and chase away his misery. 

It wasn’t so much that he didn’t want to attend the party—he did—but he was incredibly worried about what attending the party would mean for his heart.

The problem with attending Luffy’s party was not the drinking or the partying at the frat,, but that attending would more than likely mean running into his ex-boyfriend, Zoro.

It had been three weeks since they’d split up and Sanji still saw him everywhere. 

It was hard to live your life with someone and give them every single part of yourself in every way and have it amount to…this. Three weeks of silence and pain and awkwardness, even to the point that he was sure Nami had been placing at least 3 orders a week for pickup at the restaurant just so she could force him to talk to her about what was going on. 

He didn’t mind it though, but it was hard. It was hard seeing and hearing and smelling him everywhere. 

Zoro’s scent was embedded into the left side of his bed, where the other man had loved to sleep because he could plug in his phone and spend excessive hours laughing at memes deep into the morning. Admittedly, it was something that had annoyed Sanji a few times during their relationship, mainly because Zoro had the kind of laugh that was so loud it could be heard miles away and that was not always what Sanji wanted to hear at 8am in the morning after he'd just finished closing up a busy shift and wanted nothing more than a good rest. 

But now, whenever he saw something funny, he thought about how he should send it to Zoro and imagine his loud, robust laughter infecting whatever space he was in at that exact moment. It would’ve been even better if he’d been in the same place as Zoro and could hear it right then and there—but he couldn’t. He couldn’t send the funny things to Zoro and he didn't want to hear his laughter in his head either. 

Thinking about Zoro was too painful, especially so directly, so Sanji instead let out a breath and let his mind drift towards yesterday, but even there Zoro's memory was waiting for him. 

He’d decided that it was time to wear some fresh clothes which required doing what felt like endless loads of laundry for the first time since the breakup three weeks ago. Sanji had been living off the same pair of sweatpants for two of those weeks and had swapped back and forth between his red and white “BAE-ratie” and his green and red “Merry Baratie-mas” sweatshirts.

Although he’d initially judged his Uncle Zeff for being extremely corny with the Valentine’s Day and Christmas themed staff-wear, he was grateful for them now because every other sweatshirt he owned was either dirty or had belonged to his now-ex. 

The attempt to clean up and get his shit together had resulted in Sanji finally finding the dark green sweatshirt that Zoro had been looking for on his way out for the final time. It was warm and oversized and had perfect sized pockets, which was why Sanji often operated as a thief when it came to that specific item of clothing. 

Sanji had held it to his nose and with one inhale, he knew there was no way he could wash it. 

The corners of his eyes stung and he buried his face in it before he had to admit to himself he’d started crying. Zoro’s scent was embedded in the fabric, and what he hated most about it was that there were no poetical leather or sweat or citrus notes to pick out, nothing he could replicate. It was just Zoro, impossibly Zoro, and now that he was gone the scent would slowly fade away until Sanji forgot what he smelled like at all. 

Of course, then, there was no reason for Sanji to not wear it constantly. What better way to overwrite Zoro’s presence in his life than by taking the little things back for himself? 

So that was what he’d decided: the sweatshirt would be a badge now, a sign that he was fighting heartbreak and winning, and absolutely not dragging the collar up to his nose every chance he got.

It had been so long since he’d felt true happiness—or at least that's how it seemed. Sure, the breakup had only been three weeks ago, but they’d been falling apart for a long time, and now that he could step away from the situation a bit, Sanji was willing to come to terms with that.  

As Sanji fell back into his bed, the sweatshirt now squeezed tightly between his arms, the weight of his past relationship weighed down on him like a heavy cloud, raining droplets of regret over him. 

He closed his eyes and inhaled, letting the memories of Zoro come flooding back.

Sanji could vividly recall the countless arguments the two of them had shared within the walls of this very studio apartment, unable to run and hide anywhere else but the bathroom, which was the only other space with walls and a door, allowing for a very limited experience when it came to privacy in particular. 

At first, living together had felt like a smart idea. The rent would be split in half, they’d be able to spend more time together without having to waste time driving back and forth to each other’s houses, and they’d be able to connect in a real and physically present way. There would be no more mornings where Zoro had to rush back home to get ready and put his things together for class, no more misunderstandings about where they were going for dates or what they were doing during the weekends, and no more nights where Sanji had to bury himself under a pile of heavy blankets for one second of warmth. He would have another body for warmth—the body that belonged to the person he loved most in the entire world.

In the beginning things were great of course, with only tiny bits of friction occurring here and there. It didn’t take long, however, for the troubles to begin.

First, there were the looming arguments about Sanji’s messiness. Zoro always claimed that Sanji was too careless, leaving his things strewn about haphazardly, while Sanji was always quick to counter with his own accusations of Zoro being overly particular and incapable of compromise.  

Then, they fought about personal space. Zoro had yearned for more of it, the freedom to breathe without feeling crowded or trapped by his boyfriend’s plans, as he’d put it many times. He wanted to be able to do things on his own, and had slowly started feeling like Sanji was an added limb he’d never asked for, dragging him down. 

Sanji, in contrast, felt hurt and dismissed by Zoro’s desire for solitude, insisting on more time experiencing the world together. 

In his eyes, they’d become backseat drivers to their relationship, hardly ever going out on dates or spending time together the way they had before living together. He didn’t know how to explain things to Zoro, but the line between “a couple that loves each other and experiences the world together” and  “roommates who share a bed” had been blurred, and he had begun feeling neglected and unwanted. 

The differences between the two men didn’t help when it came to their emotional clashes. Sanji remembered how quick tempered he was, and how this often ignited heated disagreements. Zoro, on the other hand, was the stoic figure in their relationship, resulting in Sanji’s frequent accusations about how he was too detached and too guarded when it came to his feelings. 

At least if he showed some passion during our arguments I’d know he loved me , Sanji had often thought. 

The emotional walls between them, the constant battles over personal space and the ever-present arguments about the apartment’s tidiness had been like poison that had slowly caused their relationship to rot. 

Sanji exhaled loudly, his mind coming back to the present as he wiped the corners of his eyes, reminding himself that this wasn’t the time to cry. 

This was the time to get off his bed and finally make it outside for something other than groceries. 

He was going to attend that party, he’d decided. And he was going to look good doing it. 

~~

The one issue with planning to dress up as a sexy, tempting meal for your ex boyfriend’s viewing was actually executing the plan when your halloween costume was a literal fucking cook.

A month ago when Sanji had come up with the genius idea of dressing up as one of his favorite characters from a tv show he’d recently become obsessed with, the idea had sounded like the funniest thing in the world. He, a cook, was going to dress up for halloween as…a cook. A month ago, he would’ve thrown his head back in laughter over the fact that the idea was both genius and an act of extreme laziness, but right now, Sanji was not laughing.

He was dressed in a black pair of loose pants, a white cotton shirt, and the signature dark blue apron worn by the cast members in the show, and he felt anything but sexy. He felt like he was pulling up to the function to deliver pizzas and make his way out through the back door. 

He was suddenly regretting his choice to attend, but it was too late now. 

After countless deep breaths and reminders that he deserved to have fun too, Sanji finally made his way towards the party never.

As he walked up to the front entrance of the Pi Sigma frat house, Sanji realized he was gripping his notepad like his life depended on it. The thumping bass and laughter spilled out from the other side of the door, and he took a deep breath, lifting his hand to the buzzer and pressing down hard with his index finger, even though the gesture felt extremely unnecessary for such a casual engagement. 

As he stood waiting, his heart raced and he noticed his palms were sweaty. He had not seen Zoro in three weeks, and the anticipation and fear were enough to have his stomach tied in knots. 

The door flung open and Sanji was met with an already-drunk Luffy, whose arm was looped around another one of their friends, Coby, who seemed to be trying his best to make sure Luffy remained upright.

“Holy shit.” Sanji ran over immediately, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him as he grabbed Luffy’s other arm and looped it over his shoulders. “How much did he drink? I can't be that late…” 

“Oh, you know Luffy…” Coby trailed off as they carried their friend to a nearby room. “He’s been eating and drinking for at least three extra hours.” 

Sanji smiled because this was true. You could say what you wanted about Luffy and his eccentric personality, but you could never say he didn’t know how to party. 

As the two boys tossed their friend into the bed in the first empty room they’d found, they smiled at each other, taking each of their costumes in fully.

“You’re that dude from Hey, Arnold, right?” Sanji smirked. “What’s his name again?”

“His name is Arnold.” Coby said shyly, careful to make sure he didn’t sound like he was mocking Sanji over his silly little question. 

“Should have figured that one out on my own, I’m sure.” Sanji replied. 

“Happens to the best of us.” Coby shrugged, then nodded in Sanji’s direction. “You’re the dude from The Bear…Carmen, right?” 

“Yeah!” Sanji exclaimed, excited that his outfit had been spotted so easily. “That’s exactly it.”

“Cool.” Coby walked towards the door that led back to the party. He stopped halfway out and looked over his shoulder at Sanji, who was now frozen to his spot. “You coming?”

“Yeah.” Sanji cleared his throat. “I am definitely coming. I'm prepared for this.”

Even though he had just patted himself on the shoulder for his creativity with his Halloween costume, stepping out into the rest of the party made Sanji suddenly begin to doubt himself. It had nothing to do with his idea being bad (in fact he was very sure his costume idea was comedic genius), but as he looked around at the elaborate, sexy, and attention-grabbing costumes, he felt like he’d chosen to hide himself under a safety blanket. 

Zoro was attracted to a very specific mixture of sexiness, brattiness, and confidence, and right now, Sanji was feeling very low on all counts. To make matters worse, Sanji could feel his anxiety heighten with every second that passed by. 

His eyes scanned the room, desperately hoping that they wouldn’t lock eyes with Zoro’s, but at the same time praying he would be in attendance. It was a mixture of anticipation and dread and desire, and he didn’t know what to do with him, so he just stood there wishing he could dissolve into the floor.

“Sanji!” The drunken yelp came from Nami, who was falling over her own feet in her hurry to greet him.

She was dressed as Daisy from The Great Gatsby, and even though she’d put zero effort into styling her hair the same way as the character, she’d done a stunning job putting together her shiny silver dress that swung back and forth as she made her way to him. 

The first sign that Nami was drunk out of her mind (much like her partner in crime, Luffy) was in the way that she threw her arms over Sanji’s shoulder. 

Nami was not known for her public displays of affection, especially not ones that involved her squeezing the life out of someone under the guise of a hug.

“Sanji!” Nami exclaimed again, hiccuping as she held onto Coby, who seemed to not only be dressed as Arnold, but also a wall at this point. “I am so glad you’re here. We’ve been waiting for you to show up.” 

“Waiting?” Sanji questioned. “Why were you waiting for me?” 

“Why else?” She rolled her eyes. “Your lover boy has been dragging his feet from room to room nursing the same hard cider for the last hour and a half.” 

“Nami, you know they broke up.” Coby scolded her. “You can’t go around calling Zoro his lover boy. It’s like twisting a knife in—.”  

“Listen, sometimes the knife needs to be twisted.” Nami interrupted, narrowing her eyes at Sanji as she struggled to maintain her balance. “Because you two need to figure out your shit and get back together so Zoro can stop following me around like a squeezed lemon.”

What? This was the first Sanji had heard of or even imagined the other boy going through any sort of emotional turmoil over their relationship. Maybe it was because of the silence from their friends about it, but Sanji had genuinely been picturing Zoro having the time of his life since their breakup. 

As if sensing the need for an explanation, Coby sighed and rubbed his temples in annoyance. “He’s been so miserable without you he doesn’t even eat or sleep and he starts throwing threats around the moment any of us tell him to just call you or text you or something.” 

“And you know that idiot won’t admit he misses your home cooked meals.” Nami rolled her eyes as she balanced herself out, readjusting her hair. 

“Yeah.” Coby nodded. “Nami has been on pickup duties at the restaurant since you guys broke up—”

“Because instead of saying that he misses you and he wants to see you and he hopes you’re okay,” Nami started, “he’s complaining about how he misses this menu item from Baratie and that menu item from Baratie, and ‘oh Nami can you pick up blah blah so I don’t have to see the man I love but broke up with for no reason!’” 

“We didn’t break up for no reason,” Sanji mumbled. 

“I don’t care why you guys broke up.” Nami said bluntly. “I just need you and your sad little vampire to kiss and make up or fight and break up properly, because looking at you and thinking about how he’s behaving is killing my halloween party vibes.” 

Nami didn’t say another word for a second, but instead looped her arm though Coby’s. 

“He’s two doors down,” Coby said softly. “I think you should go say hi. He misses you a lot.”

“He does.” Nami confirmed. “He just doesn’t want to say it.” 

At his silence, Coby and Nami nodded in the direction of the rooms, encouraging him to make his way along to wherever Zoro had chosen to mope.

“Two doors down.” He reminded himself, passing the first door. He considered knocking, but then decided against it because he didn’t want to give Zoro the chance to deny him entry—he had already made the effort to come this way, and he didn’t know if he could handle the rejection. 

Sanji wrapped his hand around the door knob and twisted it, the door swinging open as Zoro’s head snapped up, immediately locking eyes with Sanji’s. 

Zoro was silent.

Behind Sanji, the sounds of chattering mixed with the party music fading as he cautiously stepped into the dimly lit room. 

There, seated in a gold accent chair with his arms in his lap, was his ex boyfriend, Zoro, dressed as a deliciously intimidating vampire. The room's dim lighting accentuated his alluring costume and brought out his sharp cheekbones and intense, dark eyes.

Sanji started to say something, but stopped himself as he took in Zoro’s stunning transformation. 

Gone were the ordinary clothes and the everyday demeanor that had once been so familiar. In their place was a mesmerizing, seductive figure that turned heads wherever he looked.

He didn’t know what to do, so Sanji just stood there, staring down at the ground as he tried to talk himself down from whatever ledge he’d been contemplating jumping over just so he didn’t have to do this awkward “nice to see you again” talk with someone who it most certainly was not nice to see again. 

“Hey, Mosshead,” Sanji said finally, lifting his eyes from the ground to meet Zoro’s. 

Zoro’s smile was faint, almost as if he wasn’t sure if it was the right time to give it. There was a long silence that stretched on for longer than either of them would’ve liked before Zoro responded, “I told you not to call me that.” 

Sanji couldn’t help but feel hope bloom in his chest. Zoro was still playing his part—they were still doing their bit—which meant that maybe he didn’t hate him. 

Maybe Zoro truly was also experiencing the emotional turmoil that had come with their sudden breakup, just like Nami had said.  

“Can I sit here?” Sanji gestured to the spot on the bed across from where Zoro sat.

Zoro nodded and watched as Sanji took a seat, the palms of his hands resting flatly on top of the bed. 

The two men were silent for a few moments, staring everywhere except at each other, the idea of starting an actual conversation being slightly too overwhelming for either of them to handle. 

The awkward tension hung in the air like a ghostly presence, mingling with the sounds of countless voices and the strong smell of weed on the other side of the door. 

Three weeks had never felt this long before. Zoro and Sanji had not seen each other, let alone sat in the same room for almost an entire month since their painful breakup, and now, sitting face to face across each other, Sanji felt a dizzying mixture of nostalgia and unfamiliarity. 

“I didn’t think you’d make it.” 

Like so many conversations in their relationship, it was Zoro who started things off. The only difference between then and now was that he’d somehow always managed to sound detached—not quite present—but as he sat across him now and looked up, Sanji knew things were different. 

He didn’t know what it was exactly, but when he searched Zoro’s eyes for some sign of warmth, recognition, or even regret about how things had ended, he couldn’t decipher his emotions. 

“I almost didn’t,” Sanji replied honestly, his unsteady voice betraying his emotions. “I thought maybe it would be too awkward…I thought it would be too painful seeing you.” 

“Have you missed me?” There was a playful smirk on Zoro’s face as he asked this.

Sanji fought back a smile. He didn’t mean to let his lips curl up in amusement, but there was something about being in this familiar state, playing this game he knew so well, that made his shoulders relax and his lips loosen.

The silence that followed hung between them like a heavy curtain, the memories of their relationship dancing around the room. It was hard to know how to navigate this new dynamic—hard to know when to flirt and when to be serious, when to say he missed him and when to say he wished things could’ve been easier.

Maybe if they’d been different people, things would have worked out. Maybe if Zoro had communicated his emotions one extra time, or if Sanji had given him the space he needed once more, or maybe if he’d washed his dishes a few days earlier, or if Zoro had verbally said he loved him one extra time…maybe then, they would not have broken up.

Maybe then, he wouldn’t have to think about whether to be honest this time, whether to share his pain and his hurt and his loneliness and his longing.

Maybe…if he had simply been better, Zoro wouldn’t have left, and then he wouldn’t have to miss him. 

But Sanji didn’t have time for a maybe. He only had time for now. 

“Of course I’ve missed you, Mosshead,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Zoro folded and unfolded his arms, a nervous habit he’d picked up through the years. He was silent for a moment, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

Sanji bit his lip in an effort to stop himself from continuing, but before he knew it, he was saying more. “I miss you every day, Zo. Nothing has been the same. I keep sleeping on your side of the bed because I miss you; I want to be close to you. I keep listening to voice messages you’ve sent me before because I want to remember your laugh. I haven’t even washed my sheets in three weeks because I miss you and I’m terrified that if I let go of even the tiniest things, I’ll forget everything. I’ll forget what you smell like, what your laugh sounds like, and that little scoff you make whenever you eat something I’ve made that you don’t want to admit is delicious…everything.” 

Zoro’s eyes softened, but he remained guarded, his arms pressed tightly against his chest. “I’ve missed you too,” he replied quietly. “Nothing feels right when you’re not there.”

With their confessions out, the two men fell silent. The house’s ambiance of festive revelry fell away, as though Zoro and Sanji were suddenly in another world: a world where they were the only two people who existed.

Zoro, his gaze fixed on the ground, was the first to speak, his voice tremulous. “Sanji...do you think this is the end for us?” He looked up, his eyes seeking answers in Sanji’s uncertain expression. 

Sanji’s heart ached as his gaze fell on the man he loved most in the entire world. There was something so painful and stuck about the way Zoro was looking at him, his anxieties painted loudly on his face.

The gravity of Zoro’s question weighed heavily on him. Was Sanji willing to fall right back into the arms of the man who had left him so abruptly, and in such a final way? Was he willing to put himself in the line of fire again, never knowing when Zoro would decide he was tired of being held down by the expectations of his love? Was he willing to shed these tears for another round?

Sanji took a deep breath. “I don’t know, Zoro. But I want to find out.” He smiled softly as Zoro’s face filled with shock, obviously not expecting that to be his response. “I want to try again.”

Sanji was just as shocked as Zoro was about the words that had just come out of his mouth. Did he really mean it? He was willing to do this with Zoro again, even if it meant experiencing the same heartache more than once? 

He watched as Zoro stood up from his seat, a mixture of hurt and longing etched across his face. His heart pounded as he watched him make the five steps from the seat to the edge of the bed where Sanji sat. 

The soft, ambient light in the room cast a warm glow on Zoro’s face as he knelt down, his hands resting on either side of Sanji, trapping him directly in line with Zoro’s piercing gaze. There was a blend of affection and uncertainty in his eyes, and Sanji couldn’t help but hold his breath, the tension from their decision lingering between them. 

Zoro leaned in, closing the gap between them as he pressed his lips onto Sanji’s in a tender, soft kiss. 

Zoro’s hand gently cradled Sanji’s cheek as he leaned in, their lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss. It was a fragile connection, a silent conversation that conveyed years of history and the desperate, longing feeling for something familiar. 

His lips were warm and tasted just like he remembered—like sake and cherries—and he felt like home.

Above all, Sanji was glad he had not forgotten the way his lover tasted. 

At first, the kiss was meant to be a quick moment of reconciliation, a silent promise of the affection that would continue beyond this room, and this party. But before either of them knew it, what had started out as a soft, chaste kiss had turned into something hungry and desperate. 

Sanji’s hand found its way to the small of Zoro’s back, desperately needing him to be closer. A soft moan escaped from his lips as he felt Zoro’s tongue slip between his lips, hungry for a deeper taste. 

Their kiss deepened, their tongues dancing together in a blend of past regrets and newfound desire. As Zoro sucked his tongue hungrily, Sanji tried to remind himself that this wasn’t the time to panic. 

Zoro was right here. He was not going anywhere. This didn’t have to be like last time.

Sanji pulled back, his breath heavy and his eyes searching for reassurance and understanding. The room seemed to hold its breath in support, waiting for the words to leave his lips. 

“Zoro, promise me this won’t be like last time.” 

Zoro let out a breath, a look of surprise plastered on his face. Sanji knew that this was not the sort of question you wanted to ask your ex-boyfriend who you missed more than anything in the entire world right when he was making out with you, but he also knew that this was the sort of question he needed to ask. 

And it needed to be right now, before he got his hopes up. 

“Sanji—” Zoro began, then stopped. 

“What?” Sanji asked, his voice breaking. “You can’t make that promise?”

“I love you, Sanji,” Zoro said finally. “I haven’t even the best boyfriend; I probably wasn’t even a good one a lot of the time, but I do love you. And I do promise this time will be different.”

A mix of emotions swirled within Sanji. While he had been anxiously waiting to see Zoro again, this declaration of love that he’d longed to hear left him feeling bittersweet and unsure of what the future would really hold for their relationship. 

Their history as a couple was a rollercoaster of emotions, and the wounds from their recent breakup felt raw. 

Sanji could hear the very faint humming of the halloween music in the other room, but in that moment, he could only focus on the here and now, with Zoro at his side.

He nodded slowly, his heart aching with both hope and doubt. 

“I love you too, Zoro.” Sanji finally whispered, his heart pounding. 

Their words hung in the air, heavy with promise and uncertainty, and as they embraced each other in a hug, both Sanji and Zoro knew that their rekindled relationship was a change, a fresh start in the grand scheme of their love story.

With that, Zoro stood up and stretched his hand out to Sanji.

“How about we actually enjoy this party, then?” Zoro suggested. “I think we’ve spent enough time wallowing in here.”

Sanji looked up and laughed, taking his hand. “That sounds like the perfect idea.”