Chapter Text
“Do you ever do anything but cook?”
Sanji begrudgingly turns at the remark and takes a sceptical look at Zoro and the empty bottle of rum that he sets down on the table.
The cook seems surprised, which is fair, since usually Zoro raids the pantry in the dead of night, but for some reason his rum ran out early tonight.
“Since I am the ship’s cook here, finding me in the kitchen would make sense wouldn’t it, mosshead?!”
Zoro tosses down the last bit of liquor in his glass and shrugs. “Sure...I’m just saying, since you’re always feeding everyone, when do you have time to yourself?”
“Well usually now, when you’re not here pestering me.” the cook says and turns back to his recipe book. “Besides, I do have hobbies” he adds.
“Perving over pretty girls isn’t a hobby!” Zoro jabs.
“Neither is getting drunk, yet here you are!” comes Sanji’s quick response.
“Maybe not, but I am really good at it” the swordsman counters with a smirk.
Sanji rolls his eyes. “Just so you know, falling asleep on any surface at any time of day...not a hobby either, even though you could win a medal in that.”
“Forget it…”, Zoro shrugs, pushing past the blond as he starts opening all the cupboards in search of more booze.
The crushing feeling he’s been trying to drown all evening still isn’t gone yet and he’s in a hurry to get rid of it before it eats him up.
That hollow cave in his chest aches like it hasn’t in a long time and the only thing he knows to fill it with is that damn booze.
Sanji’s eyes leave the pages of his cookbook again and start following Zoro’s movement.
The swordsman groans when he still can’t find any liquor even standing on his tiptoes, trying to catch a glance of the top of the cabinet. “That wasn’t what I was talking about anyway…I meant something like...working out…”
To be clear, Zoro is not suggesting this because he is looking for a workout buddy and DEFINITELY not because he wants to see Sanji drenched in sweat, he just knows the power of a good workout.
Sanji doesn’t even give Zoro the time of day. “No thanks, I don’t really have the drive for that like you do.”
It might well be a compliment but really doesn’t sound like it from the cook’s mouth.
“Seriously, it’s like if you stop moving you die…” Sanji adds.
Oh so definitely not a compliment!
“Hah,” Zoro laughs, but the aching in his chest gets worse. He feels seen by Sanji...examined....judged.
“Honestly, I wonder what it would take for your mind to stop pushing you on and on.” Sanji muses now, in a less sharp and more curious tone.
Zoro shrugs again. He finds it more than hypocritical of the cook to essentially call him out on his ‘one track mind’ when he is the one who gets so focused on cooking, hours at a time, that he forgets to actually eat.
Zoro crosses his arms, he doesn’t want that cook to look through him any more than he already is.
The blond shakes his head and his usual nonchalant look appears. “Besides, the ladies don’t like the overly bulky look...” he adds, pointedly looking Zoro up and down.
The swordsman frowns so hard that his eyebrows almost meet, before his features soften and a slight smirk appears on his lips.
“I see… how’s the scrawny look working out for you then?” he says, leaning on the counter.
Sanji’s glare is almost sharp enough to cut steel. “What did you just call me?!”
Zoro got the exact reaction he was counting on and doesn’t even try to keep the grin that tugs on the corner of his mouth from spreading across his face. “You heard.”
“That’s it!” Sanji exclaims and starts stomping toward the pantry with intent. Eventually, after some clanking and clamoring, he comes back with a bottle filled to the brim with golden liquid, that he sets down on the countertop.
“...Take your drink and get out of here!”
Zoro narrows his eyes and takes the bottle off the counter, but makes no attempts to leave the room. Instead, he sits down in the chair by the table, leans back, and uncorks the bottle before pouring himself another drink.
Sanji crosses his arms and glares while Zoro washes his smirk down with a drink.
The swordsman ravels in the cook's sour expression as he pours another one and holds the glass out to Sanji.
The cook’s frown deepens.
“What?” Zoro asks, unbothered, “You look like you need it.”
The other man reluctantly takes the glass and tosses the drink down in one swig.
In that moment Zoro’s mind can’t help but get caught on the way the cook’s Adam’s apple moves as he swallows. And that one drop of liquor that escapes the corner of his mouth and ends up running down his chin and neck until it disappears in the collar of his shirt.
“Happy?!” Sanji brings him back to reality, “Now is some peace and quiet too much to ask?!”
Zoro takes the glass back from Sanji and hums lowly, as if he’s contemplating his words.
Yes, right now it IS too much to ask! Zoro doesn’t want peace and quiet. He can’t stand peace and quiet! Even if it’s hard to admit to himself, he came here looking for company as much as for booze. Sanji’s company. The only other thing he felt like could fill that void in his chest.
And maybe the cook would prefer anyone else’s company over Zoro’s, but the swordsman isn’t ready to accept that. He is bored and he is drunk and hell he is fucking lonely and he is convinced that Sanji feels the same way too. So he’s going to push his luck as far as he can, even if it ends with a black eye or a broken nose.
He shakes these pesky thoughts out of his head and pours more rum into his glass.
“Haven’t you had enough!?” Sanji growls.
Zoro ignores him and leads the glass to his lips.
That’s when Sanji snaps and takes the glass from his hand mid-sip and drinks the rest of the bitter liquid himself.
“I wasn’t done with that!” Zoro growls in protest.
“Oh, you’re done!” Sanji hisses back, slamming the glass down on the table and grabbing for the bottle.
“What the hell is your problem?!”
As Zoro jumps to his feet, he realizes that those feet are not standing on solid ground and everything around him is a bit wobbly….or maybe he himself is wobbly.
He tries to balance and stay on his feet and instinctively reaches for something to hold onto. (Un)fortunately the only thing that happens to be in reach is Sanji’s shirt.
Zoro falls back into his chair heavily and almost takes Sanji with him.
The blond barely manages to brace one hand against Zoro’s chest to keep himself from falling over and ending up on his lap.
His feet are all tangled up between Zoro’s, but he just barely manages to stay standing.
Zoro’s anger is forgotten in a heartbeat and so is any hope for peace and quiet.
He stares back at Sanji, right into those skyblue eyes. Sanji’s eyes that scream of panic as he stares down at Zoro. His mouth stands open slightly, lips parted in a surprised expression. It seems like he’s too scared to even breathe, let alone move.
What Zoro feels isn’t exactly fear, more like...caution.
Careful now, the swordsman thinks, or he might do something very, very stupid.
Too late.
Seemingly on its own accord his foot has shifted just enough to destabilize Sanji’s stance, make him lose balance and land right in Zoro’s lap.
Sanji’s breath hitches as Zoro catches him and stops him from falling with a strong hand on his back.
“What the…” as Sanji swallows the rest of that sentence, Zoro can’t help but get caught on the way his adam’s apple moves in his slim throat again.
Slowly Zoro manages to drag his heavy-lided eyes from Sanji’s throat to his jaw, to his lips. He doesn’t dare look into his eyes. Yet.
Zoro anticipates for Sanji to move away. To jump up, curse him out, maybe kick him in the face... But he doesn’t. He just stays there and waits… But for what?
When Zoro finally finds the courage to look the cook in the eye, Sanji’s gaze is on Zoro’s lips.
That's when the last thread of self-restraint snaps within him.
And just like that Zoro’s hand finds the nape of Sanji’s neck on its own accord and he pulls the other closer until he can feel his rugged breath fanning over his lips.
Then Zoro is pressing his chapped lips to Sanji’s soft ones. And he knows he smells of booze and he might taste of it too, knows that this is a bad idea...or the greatest idea he ever had.
Time stands still as their lips connect.
For one heartbeat he feels stone sober.
The cook wanted to know what could ever make Zoro’s mind stop racing...
Well it seems that he just found the answer.
His mind’s gone quiet. There is no force driving him to do anything, there is only that big question mark between them.
Then Sanji leans into him and kisses back.
Honestly shocked and way too emboldened by that slight encouragement and the rum coursing through his veins, Zoro goes on. Lets one hand glide around the other man's waist, where his shirt has hiked up, and rests it on the base of his spine to draw circles there. Calloused fingertips against smooth, soft skin.
The other hand pulling him closer and intensifying the kiss. Slipping the tip of his tongue into the other’s mouth, where it eagerly explores.
Sanji is pressing against him, taking hold of Zoro’s shirt. The kiss is all hands and teeth, eager tongues and bruised lips.
And Zoro’s insides catch aflame, like Sanji’s taken a lighter and ignited the alcohol in his veins.
Sanji sighs into the kiss and it turns into a moan right then, when Zoro pulls on his lower lip with his teeth.
Zoro feels light-headed. Like he’s floating. Like he’s invincible.
He can’t stop a breathless laugh from escaping his chest.
And just like that the spell is broken and Sanji leans away.
Both of them are breathing heavily and still only inches from each-other.
Zoro instinctively wants to connect their lips again and tries to lean forward, chasing Sanji’s lips.
But the blond quietly puts his hands on Zoro’s arms and pushes them away firmly.
Zoro searches for his eyes and finds that panic again, that he thought was wiped away minutes ago.
And suddenly that panic lodges itself in Zoro’s chest too.
"You should go to bed" Sanji says. Not harshly but decidedly. Trying, but not quite being able to, hide the breathless shaking of his voice.
With some effort, the cook manages to get up and walk back to the counter.
Zoro is starting to ask himself if he’s just going to continue as if nothing happened when Sanji seems to think better of it. With suddenly clumsy hands he unties his apron and throws it onto the counter.
“Goodnight...” he mumbles under his breath and makes his way out of the room with his eyes trained on the points of his black shoes the whole time.
Leaving Zoro to think about what the hell just happened.
The swordsman nods quietly to himself and leans back in his seat, letting his gaze linger on the doorway Sanji just disappeared through.
Smiling, he lets his tongue trace over his lips that taste of rum and tobacco. Zoro doesn’t like smoking, but right now he likes that lingering taste of Sanji.
His smile vanishes and he sighs and puts his hands over his eyes.
“Ugh!” he lets out into the empty room. What happened to not doing anything stupid?!