Archive of Our Own

After cooking for hours straight at his job, Sanji comes back to the apartment to… cook more. He loves his job, but cooking for himself and the rest of the “crew” (Luffy started using that term and it just sort of stuck) is far more enjoyable. There are no stakes in this, no customers wanting it remade because “it doesn’t taste right” even though it was literally made exactly how it should be and what do they know anyway— ?

He rolls up his sleeves to his elbows as he works, washing the rice, whipping up a sauce with whatever he has on hand. chopping and sautéing vegetables, It’s just something simple that everyone will like. Sometime during the process, Nami returns from her own job, plopping herself into one of the barstools at the opposite side of the counter. She doesn’t say anything to the blond, instead resting her upper body weight onto the cool granite, just watching him in his element. 

Time passes in relative silence, only interrupted by Nami’s soft laughter while scrolling through her Twitter timeline. As he starts to finish things up, Sanji takes the seat next to her, seeing as there’s no need to keep the food under his watchful eye. Similarly, he takes the moment to look through his own socials. 

“Woah, take a look at this.” Before Sanji even processes what she said, Nami shoves her phone in his face. He squints at the dark screen. He doesn’t understand how she can even see anything with the brightness this low all the time. At this rate, it’s a miracle her eyes aren’t strained permanently yet. Seeing his struggle, Nami sighs dramatically and turns up the brightness just for him.

The weather app is open. Everything looked in order to Sanji: It’s cold, typical for this time of year. The chill bites into your skin, brushing your nose, ears, and cheeks with red, and settles deep in your bones. It makes the walk to work tomorrow a little more miserable, but nothing a big, strong, man like Sanji can’t handle—realistically, he will be grumbling about it the whole way. Nothing looks too out of the ordinary.

Sanji looks between Nami and her phone screen, still not quite getting what he should be looking at. “Yes,” He starts slowly. “It is very… cold tomorrow?”

That must not have been what Nami is talking about because she gives him a very confused look. “What? No, no, no, look .” She shoves the phone closer to his face, as if that will miraculously help Sanji read her mind. “It says there’s, like, an 80% chance of snow tonight and tomorrow morning!”

She looks more excited now. Snow is not an uncommon thing here, but this would be the first snow of the season. From then on, the holidays would be in full swing. That is, if it actually snows like it says it will. Sanji’s been a little skeptical of the weather app after having one too many plans ruined by unexpected weather. 

“This time it’s actually going to snow and it’s going to stick. I can feel it,” Nami says assuredly. There’s been snow in the forecast a few times in the past month or so, but it never did. The most they got was a light flurry, but it melted almost immediately the next day. Now everything is kind of brown and gross outside. The city could use some snow to make things look a little prettier. 

“If you’re confident, then I guess I have to believe you.” Sanji smiles. “Do you know how much is supposed to fall?”

She hums as she thinks. “I heard at least a few inches, maybe ten at the most. I can’t remember exactly.”

It was not anywhere close to ten inches. While the city slept, feet upon feet of snow piled onto the streets, blocking roads and businesses alike. When Sanji had awoken to get breakfast started, Nami and Luffy were already awake, crowding by the window. Their hushed voices carried through the silent apartment.

One of the old floorboards creaked beneath the blond’s feet, alerting the other two to his presence. Luffy was the first to turn around, his signature smile plastered across his face. He quickly grabs the other, pulling him towards the window. “Sanji! Sanji! Look at all the—!”

“Shh!” Nami chides. “Keep your voice down! It’s still early, and Zoro isn’t awake yet.”

Nami is always so kind and thoughtful towards other people, even when they don’t deserve it. And that green-haired idiot certainly doesn’t deserve her consideration. Sanji is half tempted to tell Luffy to be as loud as he pleases, but he’ll refrain. The walls are thin and he’s sure the other tenants in the complex wouldn’t appreciate this wakeup call. 

What greets Sanji from the other side of the window is absolutely insane. He’s blinded by the sheer amount of snow covering their city. What surprises him more is that it’s still snowing, too. Thick clumps of snowflakes fall from the heavens, adding to the already massive piles on the street. Though it’s hard to look at with the sun reflecting off every surface, he can’t deny how beautiful it looks. It’s cliche, but it reminds him of a winter wonderland. Everything is still outside. The snow hasn’t been touched yet by people or machinery. It’s peaceful. Sanji can feel himself smiling at the sight. 

“See?” Nami nudges him. “I told you it would snow.”

Sanji lets out a quiet laugh. “I never doubted you for a second.”

A sudden clatter interrupts any further conversation. Behind them, Luffy has taken it upon himself to look for something to eat. If this were anyone else, this would be fine, but it’s Luffy . He is explicitly banned from being in the kitchen. The youngest has many, many strengths, but cooking is not one of them. In fact, cooking is one of his weaknesses . Only Sanji is allowed to cook meals. It just works out better this way. The last time the other three tried to surprise him with dinner, it ended up very messy and he ended up making something entirely different. 

“Hey–!” Sanji scolds. His voice comes out louder than he intended. Luffy freezes in place, caught red handed. It reminds him of catching raccoons rummaging through your trash, eyes wide and hands still clenched around whatever object they’ve grabbed. Luffy sputters something about being hungry, and before the blond can continue to chide him, another voice joins in.

“What’s with all the ruckus?” Zoro asks, his voice gruff from just waking up. He leans up against the wall, his eyes slowly rake over each of them, finally landing on Sanji. The other suppresses the shiver that threatens to run up his spine. The way his eyes swept over his figure felt oddly deliberate. If he didn’t know any better, he would think that Zoro is actively checking him out (or perhaps that’s just his ego talking). Not that there’s anything to check out at this hour. He’s still in his loose sleep clothes and his hair isn’t brushed out yet.

Despite the hypocrisy, Sanji can’t seem to keep his own wandering eyes to himself either. Zoro is in a similar state of disarray, but somehow he makes it work. His hair is tousled from sleep, and it’s kind of sexy. Not that Sanji would ever find this green-haired prick sexy. That would be preposterous, absolutely preposterous. If that’s not bad enough, the blond can’t help but admire how his shirt stretches—more like strains—over his broad muscles. His dedication to his daily regimen is admirable, he supposes. Zoro’s hard work is certainly paying off. There are times when Sanji will catch Zoro fresh out of the shower with nothing but a towel around his waist and– Ugh , this is a dangerous train of thought, but how could he not when it’s right there ?? Fuck, he’s staring. Their eyes meet, and Sanji swears he saw something flash in Zoro’s eyes—he’s not sure what, though. He doesn’t trust it or the small smirk that graces his lips. 

Breaking whatever trance they had going on, Zoro goes to Luffy, ruffling his hair. “I know Cook’s taking his sweet time, but you have to wait. He doesn’t trust you in here, and frankly, neither do I.”

The illusion’s ruined. Sanji’s face scrunches into a deep scowl as irritation replaces all former emotions. What did he expect, really? He’s known Zoro for a few years now, and it’s always been the same thing. They can coexist, but not without going at each other everyday. 

“I was getting to that! Y’know, I think both you and Luffy could learn a little patience.” Sanji starts to push the other two out of the kitchen. It’s far too cramped with all of them in here like this. He needs his space if he’s going to get to work. 

“I have plenty of patience!” Zoro argues. “But some of us want to eat breakfast while it’s still morning!”

“Go sit your ass down and maybe I won’t spit in your food!” Sanji clenches his fists. The urge to grab the nearest thing and lob it at Zoro’s head has never been stronger than it is now. Sometimes the other can act like such an ungrateful son of a bitch. Deep down, Sanji knows that there are things he does that Zoro is grateful for, but he sure has a way of showing it. The green-haired man opens his mouth to retort back, but a loud knock from their neighbors on the other side of the wall silences him, signaling the end of that particular discussion. 

It became very apparent that no one (in this group, at least) was going into work. With this unexpected snow day, the crew had to decide what they were going to do with it. Everyone is sprawled across different pieces of furniture in the living area: Zoro sits on the edge of the coffee table (which, by the way, Sanji has told him several times that he should not sit on it because one day it will collapse and it will be his fault), Luffy in the leaking beanbag, and Sanji and Nami on the couch—though, rather than actually sitting on the seat part, Nami balances herself on the armrest. 

“Well, what if we just stayed in and did something relaxing here?” Nami’s suggestion is met with instant protests. It’s not a bad idea, but it also doesn’t actually give them anything to do. 

“Are you kidding?!” Luffy objects. Nami puts her hands up in mock surrender, not expecting such a strong opinion on the matter. “This is the first time it’s snowed like this since, like, forever ago. There’s no way we can just stay in and do nothing !”

“Then by all means, what do you propose we do instead?” She crosses her arms, waiting for a response. Luffy remains quiet. The tip of his tongue sticks out from between his lips, indicating that he’s thinking very hard about it. 

“With all this snow, we could try skiing or something,” Zoro proposes. Typical Zoro behavior. So typical it makes Sanji roll his eyes. Of course he wants to do something so athletic, even on a day like this. Blizzards are meant for romantic, nostalgic things, preferably with the company of an attractive young lady (though, in his eyes, all women are attractive), not for dragging yourself up and down a hill, looking like a marshmallow with how many puffy layers you have on. It seems like the man spends every waking moment training his body. God forbid he goes one day without being active. Just another thing they will disagree on, Sanji supposes. 

“Yeah? I don’t know about you, but the rest of us broke college students don’t have any of the stuff for that,” Sanji scoffs. He can see Zoro’s face morph into a deep scowl but he continues on. “Unless you’re suggesting we go to an actual lodge, then… How are we getting there? The roads are still a mess and the plows won’t be here for who knows how long.” 

Does he need to sound so condescending? No. But picking fights with Zoro is a little hobby of his. The green-haired man shoots up from his “seat” and, in the blink of an eye, stands in front of Sanji, pulling the other up by the front of his shirt. Their eyes meet and charged energy sparks between the two. Nami just lets out a sigh and mutters something about property damage. Meanwhile, Luffy is still deep in thought, though it seems he’s almost pieced together his thoughts. 

“Sanji’s right about that. Skiing is fucking expensive and we don’t have that kind of money,” Nami points out, but no one hears her.

“Listen here, you curly-browed fuck, I’m just spouting out ideas, so if you don’t like them–”

“You’re right, I don’t like them. So why don’t you leave the thinking to the adults–?”

“How about ice skating?” Luffy pipes up. Zoro drops Sanji back onto the couch without any warning. The blond bites back a shout as his tailbone makes contact with the wooden frame beneath the thin, worn down cushions. Well… you get what you paid for, and by that he means they didn’t pay a cent for this piece of junk. They picked it up from the side of the road one day and took it back to the apartment. It was a good idea at the time.

The group goes quiet in contemplation. Sanji himself has never been ice skating before. Well, that’s not entirely true. He’s sure his old man took him skating at least once when he was younger—when it was socially acceptable to be bad—but he can’t recall any specific moment. 

“That’s actually not a bad idea, Luffy!” Nami’s face breaks out into a large grin, all traces of her former annoyance are gone. Without waiting for anyone else’s input, she already has her phone out to do a couple of searches. “There’s a rec center not too far from here with an ice rink. I’ll have to call to make sure they're still open. Oh! Or there’s this cute outdoor rink too! That one has to be open because…” And the rest becomes background noise. 

The decision has already been made. Luffy has gotten up from the beanbag to join the rest of them, looking over Nami’s shoulder as she shows him pictures of the potential venues. It seems he has no problem with how dark her screen is. Zoro and Sanji glance at each other. They can argue as much as they want, but both of them know to never argue with Nami. 

There could be worse options than ice skating. Luffy could have asked to go camping or ice fishing (not that anyone would have agreed to that). And hey, at least it aligns with Sanji’s idea of a romantic holiday outing. Imagine helping a beautiful woman onto the ice, guiding her with their hands linked together, keeping her close with an arm around her waist as some snot-faced kids rush by. It’s the pinnacle of romance, what every Hallmark movie strives for, and he’s going to experience it. He’s not sure with who yet, but those details will sort themselves out later.

Sanji might not actually know how to skate, but it can’t be that hard.

…

It’s hard. How did he think he could do this without any prior experience? He’s not naturally gifted like some people, he can’t just learn by watching someone else do it. But, if anything, it’s Luffy and Zoro’s ( especially Zoro’s) fault for making it look so easy—but not Nami’s. She is amazing and perfect and could never do any wrong. Ever. 

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The four of them left once the snow let up a bit—around 2:00-ish, bundled up in their coats and scarves and whatever they had on hand to keep them warm during the walk there. Luckily most of the sidewalks were cleared off. Nami led the group since she was the coordinator for this outing. She had never been to this place before, but she knows the area well. And besides, she had Google Maps open just in case. Luffy stayed at her side, chatting away about who knows what. Sanji only catches bits and pieces of their conversation, but from the looks of things, this might also be Luffy’s first time ice skating, too. 

As they walk, the blond keeps to himself, his eyes locked on the scenery around them. Absent-mindedly, he digs around in his coat pocket for his lighter. A nice day like this calls for at least one smoke. He takes off his glove to get a better grip on the spark wheel, and brings the lighter up to his cigarette. Once lit, he takes a deep drag and exhales into the cold, wintry air. 

The peacefulness didn’t last long. Of course Zoro had to ruin it. One moment he feels the warmth of his coat, the next he feels cold wetness on the nape of his neck and down his back. He should have known the other man was up to something. Sanji whips around to face Zoro, to give him a piece of his mind, but the words die in his throat. 

Zoro’s laughing—not one of those annoying, boisterous laughs he does when he’s in larger groups. It’s more akin to a hearty chuckle. The traitorous part of his brain thinks that he looks rather handsome like this. It could be the light dusting of pink across his nose and cheeks, and how it contrasts nicely with his hair. But maybe it’s because he isn’t dressed like garbage today. He looks particularly good in that coat of his. It’s one of those faux leather jackets with a thick fleece lining. It’s also probably one of the only articles of clothing that actually fits Zoro properly. Sanji doesn’t think it’ll be enough to keep him warm in this weather, but whatever. He’s just admiring the view—no wait, that’s not what he means, he just- uh, appreciates the aesthetic. That’s all. 

“Do you mind?” Sanji huffs. He takes another, shorter, drag of his cigarette to distract from the cold wetness seeping into his clothes. 

“I don’t actually–” He wipes the leftover snow on his hand onto his pants.

“I just lit this and you almost made me drop it into the snow–”

They stop and stare at each other, with Sanji looking far more annoyed than Zoro does. The green-haired man has that smirk—that stupid, goddamn smirk—on his face again. He is so infuriating, Sanji just wants to wipe that expression away for good, no matter how sexy attractive it is. While they have their silent standoff, Nami and Luffy continue walking ahead. Nami is most likely electing to ignore their antics and Luffy probably isn’t even aware of them. Without another word, Sanji pushes the other into a large snowbank and goes on his way. In just a few long strides, he’s caught up to the others. Behind him, Sanji can hear Zoro curse after him and it brings a smile to his face. 

They ended up deciding on the outdoor venue. It’s a large rink, protected from the snow by a gazebo-like structure. Heavy-duty string lights hang from the support beams above them, creating a soft atmosphere. Christmas music plays softly in the background, though you can just barely hear it over all the chatter. This was the perfect place for a romance to ensue.

The rink is bustling with people of all ages. It seems like they aren’t the only ones who were taking advantage of the snow day. There were a lot of kids and other college-aged students on the ice, while some parents opted to stay outside the rink, steaming drink in hand.

“Wow! Look at this place!” Nami gushes. She plops herself down onto one of the benches, eagerly untying her boots to get her skates on. “It’s so cute out here!”

“Yeah, it sure is something,” Sanji breathes out, watching the small cloud of condensation dissipate in the air.

The four of them settle on one of the small benches, quickly getting to work with their skates. Nami, self-sufficient as always, gets hers on first. She walks—or, more accurately, waddles —her way to the rink’s edge. She looks back over her shoulder at the rest of them, giving them a big thumbs-up, before stepping foot on the ice. Her first few steps were a little shaky, but they become smoother as her confidence grows. She skates alongside the barrier for a few feet before she waves back at them. “C’mon! You guys coming or what?”

That was all the encouragement Luffy needed. He shoots up from his spot on the bench and tries to join Nami on the ice, but Sanji stops him. The blond might know little to nothing about ice skating, but he knows for a fact that Luffy’s skates have to be tied tighter than that or he might get seriously injured.

“Sit. Down.” Sanji scolds. With a long, drawn out groan, Luffy does as he’s told, throwing himself back onto the bench. The blond stops lacing up his own skates to help Luffy with his. He kneels before the lanky teen, making sure they’re actually on properly. Luffy’s a smart kid, but damn, he sure lets his excitement get the better of him. While he ties the other’s skates, Sanji can feel Zoro’s gaze on him. 

“What are you looking at?” Sani asks, suspicious of the sudden attention.

“Nothin,” Zoro huffs. “ You just look good on your knees, that’s all.”

WHAT? The blond’s face erupts into a furious blush. He doesn’t respond to that—he can’t. What would he even say? ‘Thanks’??? Zoro’s playing mind games and Sanji does not appreciate it in the slightest. He fumbles with Luffy’s laces a bit, keeping his gaze lowered to avoid looking at Zoro’s stupid, smug face. He clears his throat before he speaks.

“Alright, now you can go.” Sanji rises, brushing off any dirt or frost that’s gathered on his pants. Luffy is up in an instant, practically racing to the rink. The remaining two watch as if they were in slow motion as the youngest jumps onto the ice. Words can barely leave their mouths before Luffy wipes out, slipping back almost comically. Luckily, not many other patrons were in the immediate vicinity, otherwise they would have been taken down too.

“Luffy!” They all yell out, even Nami, who’s halfway across the rink by now. The brunette just laughs and rubs the parts of his body that hit the ice the hardest, soothing whatever pain he has. Luffy stays seated right where he is, forcing nearby skaters to go around him. He gets a few strange glances from onlookers, but the rest of the rink seems unbothered by his… eccentricities. Sanji lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in the first place. At least Luffy isn’t seriously hurt at all. 

Zoro lets out a similar breath beside him. Without another word, he goes back to his own skates, and Sanji does the same. It’s best to not think about the other too much. He’s here to have fun, and dammit , he’s going to have fun if it’s the last thing he does. The blond takes extra time with the laces. Not because he’s nervous. Of course not, that would be ridiculous. Obviously. Out of the corner of his eye, Sanji sees Zoro get up, leaving the chef on his own.

“Zoro! I didn’t know you knew how to skate!” Luffy laughs. He sits patiently on the ice, legs splayed out in front of him, still waiting for someone to help him back onto his feet. He hasn’t made any attempt to get back up himself, accepting this temporary defeat. Ice Rink: 1. Luffy: 0.

This catches his attention immediately. That doesn’t sound right. Zoro is a complete brute. He’s an expert in almost every fighting style under the sun and all other stuff he does that no one can keep track of. There’s no way he can do something as delicate as ice skating. Sanji’s head snaps up to see what Luffy is talking about. Lo and behold, the mosshead can . He glides effortlessly around Luffy, just getting warmed up. 

“I dabbled in a bit of hockey in high school, but nothing beyond that.” Zoro shrugs. He extends an arm out to the younger, to which the latter accepts gratefully with a bright smile. He makes Luffy hold onto the walls, both for his own sake and for the people around them. The green-haired man skates next to Luffy as he shuffles across the ice. Once he seems relatively ok on his own, Zoro turns back to where Sanji is sitting.

“Hey! What’s taking you so long?”

“I’m coming! Would you be patient!” Sanji stands, trying his best not to wobble before he even gets on the ice. Walking on the blades is weird, but he’s only a few steps away. Standing in the gate, he glances down at the ice and then back to Zoro. The other stares back expectantly, waiting for him to come join the rest of them. 

With a deep breath, Sanji makes his first step onto the rink. So far so good. He stands there for a moment and shifts his feet around experimentally, feeling how his blades move over the ice. Ok, yeah, easy-peasy, Sanji tries to convince himself. It’s just like walking, but… not really . He treads as if he were still on land, and oh fuck . He’s slipping before he knows it. Sanji’s arm shoots out to grab onto the wall with a white knuckled grip to stop himself from slamming into the ice. 

“Curly?!” Zoro calls out to him. He sounds more surprised than anything. His green-haired roommate skates his way over.

“Don’t.” Sanji orders sharply, somewhat struggling to drag himself back to an upright position. He shoots Zoro the meanest glare he can manage at the moment. This cannot be happening right now. He doesn’t need Zoro to kick him while he’s down. “Not. A. Word.”

“I didn’t say anything yet,” the other retorts. That should be the end, then, but Zoro doesn’t move away. He pauses, and then: “Listen, if you want help–”

“What I want is for you to go away, go join up with Luffy and Nami, anything. ” He’s back on his own two feet again… barely. He rests most of his body weight on the barrier. With the hand not holding on for dear life, he points to the other side of the rink. “Just–! Leave me alone for one minute while I figure this out.”

Sanji’s tone left no room for argument, which usually doesn’t mean much to Zoro since they always argue. But this time he accepts it. With one final shrug, he actually leaves. A part of Sanji is baffled at how passive he’s being right now. But this isn’t the time for that. He needs to start getting his shit together.

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He does not get his shit together. 

On the ice, Sanji’s legs shake like a newly born baby deer’s. This was a bad idea. Why would anyone put blades on their feet and actually do this? He can barely stand up straight. If he were less prideful, he’d ask for one of those chairs they give to the younger kids. Instead, he clutches at the barrier with everything he’s got. This is pathetic. He’s a fully grown man practically tripping over his feet while kids half his age are speeding across the ice.

“This is stupid,” he grumbles to himself. He hasn’t seen his friends for a while, but he’s guessing that may or may not have something to do with Zoro. Maybe he told them to leave him alone like he wished for. But hopefully he had a little tact with it. There’s nothing more embarrassing than having your friends know you’re a loser. Sanji sighs deeply, taking in the cold air. He’s itching for another smoke, but he knows it’s not allowed in here. 

Sanji’s only made it a few feet since getting on the ice. It’s pathetic, really. He’s barely covered any distance, but it’s still too far to turn back around. The man is forced to continue onward, whether he likes it or not. Is it dramatic? Yes. But Sanji does not care . He just wants to get back on solid ground, with regular shoes and a cigarette between his lips. It’s not too long before he has another… encounter with his most annoying roommate. The other two must have left to sit down for a bit, because Sanji doesn’t see them nearby. 

“Not so tough now, are you, Curly?” Zoro skates up to him rapidly, spraying a fine layer of ice onto Sanji when he stops.  His eye twitches as the frost settles and melts into the fabric of his coat. If he weren’t so off-balanced, he would strangle this man right here, right now. 

“Could you, just- not ?!” He grits out. “You insufferable, green dickhead!”

A gasp sounds from behind him. A mother and her daughter were slowly making the rink during his confrontation with his green-haired flatmate. The mother looks absolutely scandalized by his choice of words, her jaw open and brows drawn together to show her disapproval. To make matters worse, she covers her daughters ears with gloved hands and she gives him the meanest looking stink-eye as they skate by. Sanji’s face goes red and mutters a quiet sorry , while Zoro just laughs. 

“Would you stop that? It’s not funny!” Sanji tries to give him a quick smack, but he’s too far away to reach him. He’ll get his revenge later. For now, he has to keep at least one hand on the rink’s walls at all times. But it seems like Zoro has other plans for him. In a quick motion, he grabs Sanji’s hand and starts to push away from the outer edges. “What are you doing?!”

Sanji doesn’t try to pull his hand out of Zoro’s surprisingly gentle grasp, instead he all but claws at the walls of the rink, trying not to let the other drag him into the fray of things. Why is he doing this to me? Sanji cries internally. Zoro is single-handedly ruining his chances of scoring a romantic, Christmas-time date. Not long after, Sanji loses his grip, forced to accept his fate. If he weren’t wearing his gloves, he might have had a better chance at standing his ground. 

Away from the barrier, Sanji’s legs start to shake again. He doesn’t know what Zoro is up to, but he doesn’t like it. The man is easy to predict in so many ways, but now, at this moment, Sanji can’t get a proper read on him. It’s almost unnerving. 

He looks back to where they were before. Now, the walls are several feet behind them. With Sanji’s complete lack of skills in this particular area, there’s no way he’s getting back there on his own. Subconsciously, he squeezes Zoro’s hand tighter, almost uncomfortably so. 

“Hey,” He says, uncharacteristically soft. Zoro stops and turns to face him now. Unable to stop himself, Sanji collides lightly with the other’s chest. His hands come up to brace for the impact. Zoro seems unfazed by the closer proximity, and instead of pushing him away again, he takes Sanji’s other hand into his own. “Just relax, alright?

The blond can’t seem to find the right words. His mouth opens and closes like a fish’s. He purses his lips together with a long exhale and nods. Seeing Sanji’s compliance, he takes that as permission to continue skating. With their hands still linked together, Zoro slowly glides backwards– what a fucking showoff .

While this is happening, Sanji stays ramrod stiff. This is weird. This is so very unlike their usual dynamic. He can’t bring himself to look at the man in front of him, instead watching the other patrons—families, friends, lovers . Sanji can feel Zoro’s heavy gaze on him. The attention spreads heat throughout his body, a red flush settles on his cheekbones. He could easily blame it on the cold weather, though. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots the small smile on the green-haired man’s face. 

For the record, he doesn’t exactly hate this. It’s just very soft, and that’s not a word he would ever use to describe Zoro. Physically speaking, Zoro is all ridged edges and hard muscle. And personality-wise, he’s rude and crass and he has no taste for the finer things in life… But he does like his cooking, so there’s one thing going for him. And he never seriously complains when Sanji tries something new, even if it means dinner is way too late. And he never lets Luffy in his kitchen, even when he’s gone, even if it would be easier to let the younger do as he pleases. And despite all their fighting, Sanji knows that Zoro will always have his back. And… Oh, no. This is embarrassing. 

Zoro’s voice startles him out of his thoughts. “I said to relax, didn’t I? You won’t get anywhere if you don’t at least bend your knees a little.”

“Ah, right.” And so, for the first time in their lives, Sanji actually listens to what Zoro says. It feels… better. Still unnatural, but better. He doesn’t feel like he’s going to topple over any minute anymore. Feeling a little more confident, Sanji steals a glance at his flatmate. Zoro is grinning big and wide. A smile that is Luffy-esque in nature. When their eyes meet, neither has it in them to look away.

“There you go. That’s it,” He encourages, squeezing Sanji’s hands lightly. Warmth and excitement swims in those deep, brown eyes. “Just glide with me.”

Sanji finds a smile creeping up on his face as well. He feels weightless as Zoro pulls him across the ice. It’s nice like this, not having to think about anything but keeping his blades at the right angle so he doesn’t bring both of them down. They’re not going very fast, but it seems like the world blurs right past them. Everything else fades into obscurity and Sanji’s eyes lie solely on the man in front of him. 

“Alright, Curly,” Zoro says softly. “Try moving with me. You can do that, right?”

In any other context, Sanji would have taken that as a challenge. Of course, I can, he would have scoffed. But it’s anything but a challenge now. It lacks their usual hostility—no glares or toothy smirks, or jabs at the other. It doesn’t make him want to punch Zoro in the head. Distantly, he wonders what changed leading up to this point. Maybe aliens took the real Zoro and replaced him with this clone. Or maybe Zoro hit his head too hard and it rewired his entire personality. Or maybe, as impossible as it sounds, Zoro doesn’t hate Sanji as much as the blond thought he did, that he cares for him, or maybe actually likes –

“Just push off using the side of the blade,” Zoro instructs, interrupting Sanji’s train of thought. And so, he does. Despite his rough start, it’s almost… easy now. The two of them move in sync with each other: with every glide forward, Zoro takes an equal glide back, keeping a consistent distance apart. Soon enough, Sanji’s grip on Zoro’s hands loosen to a comfortable pressure. The pair keep the same relaxed pace, moving leisurely around the other patrons—with Zoro leading, of course. It’s nice, so nice that Sanji almost misses when Zoro starts to let go of his hands. Almost.

“Woah, woah, woah, Moss-for-brains,” Sanji panics, his voice pitching up slightly (though if anyone asked him, he would deny it). He squeezes Zoro’s hands to keep him within arm’s reach. The nerve he has. If he’s going to bring Sanji out here, he might as well bring him back to the barrier when he’s done. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What? You nervous, Cook?” Zoro goads, grinning smugly at him. The attitude is refreshing in a way, familiar. They’ve been treading through unknown territories thus far, so Sanji’s grateful for ‘familiar.’ Familiar is something he can always fall back on. “You’re literally fine. You’re practically skating by yourself anyway.”

“I am not –,” He argues. Being dragged around the ice by your roommate hardly counts as doing it by yourself. What an idiot.

“ Yes, you are . And to prove it,” Zoro’s fingers slip from Sanji’s grip and he widens the gap between them. He skates back, keeping his hands outstretched, taunting the other to just reach and grab them again. It would be more infuriating if he didn’t look so good in this lighting and if it wasn’t so attractive that this huge, beefy man can excel at such an elegant activity. “You’re going to come to me .”

“No the hell I’m not!” Sanji grits out. “You’re out of your damn mind if you think I can do this!” Like he said before, he’s not talented like other people are. Things don’t just come naturally to him. Nothing has ever come easy to Sanji. He has to work his ass off to succeed at anything. It’s never fun and it’s never pretty. If he’s not at his best, he doesn’t want anyone else to witness it. Probably a mindset from his early childhood, before Zeff took him in, that he can’t manage to shake. Oh, well. 

“Just try!” Zoro argues. “You stubborn asshole! I’m not going to let you fall, so just shut up and listen to me.”

Sanji blinks once, then twice. Despite the brash phrasing, he can tell that this is Zoro’s way of being heartfelt and considerate. He could tease about how Zoro’s getting soft, or how he’s changing his image. But does he really want to? Would saying something somehow break the spell they were under? At this moment, Sanji has finally decided that he doesn’t want to go back to where they used to be. He wants to see this other side of Zoro, to fall down that rabbit hole even if there’s no way out. 

I’m not going to let you fall , echoes in his head. It’s a promise, said with so much conviction, it couldn’t possibly not be untrue. Like the mere thought of Sanji falling under his watch was ridiculous. Zoro is many things: He’s infuriating, headstrong, a little stupid, assertive. But above all, he is honest and true. If Zoro says that he won't let him fall, then who is Sanji to doubt him?

Sanji takes a deep breath and exhales shakily. Just like before, he pushes off his blade tentatively. He’s not sure what to do with his hands now, so he keeps them out to keep his balance. He doesn’t move very far, and suddenly, the distance between them feels so much bigger, more impossible. Blue eyes fall to the ice, watching his skates run smoothly over the surface, looking for any imperfections and bumps that may trip him. 

“Cook,” Zoro commands. His voice sends a shudder up his spine. “Eyes up here.”

And fuck, if that’s not kind of hot. Sanji’s eyes flit back up to Zoro’s. He holds eye contact, no matter how warm it makes him feel. Keeping his eyes up is more difficult than he thought it would be, but those rich brown eyes keep him captivated, drawing him in with some sort of magic.

With his growing confidence, Sanji takes bigger strides towards the other. The ice passes easily beneath his feet. He lets an amused laugh, almost shocked that he’s actually doing it. Sanji smiles, toothy and wide, as he’s within arm’s reach to Zoro again. Without thinking, he grabs Zoro’s hands in his own, and the other accepts it graciously. It’s a comfortable fit. They’re fingers tangle together effortlessly. Since Sanji doesn’t know how to stop himself yet, he bumps lightly into Zoro, earning a low chuckle. They’re chest to chest like this, practically sharing the same air, the same breaths. 

“What did I say, huh?” Zoro looks too self-satisfied and Sanji barely resists the urge to push him. 

“I don’t want to hear it, Marimo,” Sanji mumbles. If it weren’t for the close proximity, Zoro probably wouldn’t have even heard it.

“You like it. Just admit it.”

“I think I like you ,” Sanji confesses quietly. He leans forward and presses their lips together in a chaste, experimental kiss. He pulls away soon after and tries to gauge Zoro’s reaction. ‘ What if I misinterpreted this whole thing?’ the horribly insecure part of his brain asks. But Zoro doesn’t let his mind spiral for long. He chases after Sanji’s lips, kissing him again, harder. It barely lasts five seconds, but Sanji feels out of breath when it’s over. His lips tingle in the aftermath. He disconnects their hands in favor of draping his arms over Zoro’s broad shoulders. In turn, Zoro plants a heavy hand on each side of his waist, holding Sanji against him.

“About damn time,” Zoro huffs in faux annoyance. His lips are still tantalizingly close. It wouldn’t take much for Sanji to kiss him again, and again, and again, in this public ice rink. And so, he does.