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“I can't believe you’re actually letting me do this.” Nami smiles devilishly, her face lightly blushed from alcohol and the cold evening breeze of the sea. She's leaning a little into Zoro’s side as they watch the ocean from the deck, her posture loose and uneven, which is a rarity she only really offers to Robin or the swordsman. They've been through so much together now, and Nami definitely has enough blackmail on him to ensure that nobody knows about this.
“Well, it was either that or you raise my debt even more.” Zoro grumbles, handing over the bottle of liquor they’re sharing. He knows there’s no way out of it, and the witch has Sanji wrapped around her finger, so he’ll do anything to please her.
“Well, I think it’ll be great for the both of you. Think of this as me paying you back for helping me with Vivi.” Nami unfortunately knows about his unresolved feelings with the cook, and has made it her personal mission to make Zoro as pissed off as possible trying to get them together. So far, none of her attempts have worked, but she’s determined that this is the time she’s going to get it right.
“I didn’t help you with shit. You did that yourself.” He huffs. That was all Nami’s doing. She was the one to confess to Vivi, take her hand and kiss her senseless the night they departed Alabasta.
“But you were there for me when we had to leave. So, I think this will be just as helpful.”
Zoro was there for Nami after the fact. There were many nights, similar to this one, where they shared drinks and just talked. Sometimes there would be tears, fuelled by love and separation, but most of the time Zoro was just there for Nami to be a pillar. A sense of comfort, someone to talk to. He’s very happy to be that for the crew, and takes it all in stride.
“Whatever.”
Nami laughs, light and carefree. “Okay, big guy, I’ll give you a rundown just so you don’t fuck it up with that idiot of yours.” She hands Zoro back the bottle, and pulls out a notebook from her back pocket.
—
The island they’ve docked at isn’t that conspicuous. From Robin’s research, the culture thrived on relationships and courting. There seems to be a festival twice a year to celebrate and consummate marriages, and the second one of the year is approaching soon.
Nami has booked for them to stay in a hotel with all sorts of amenities. Apparently it’s run by a devil fruit user, and Robin wants to meet them to gain more knowledge on the fruit. Luffy has been all for exploring the new island, so on Captain’s orders, they’ve docked for the next week here.
Nami walks back onto the Sunny with a satisfied smile and a handful of room keys. Flashing them to the crew who are on deck, she makes her way over and hands them out.
“Right, me and Luffy are sharing a room. Robin, Franky, you will have one.” She hands one key to their shipwright, “And Usopp, Chopper and Brook. Jinbei has already volunteered to watch the ship.” She smiles.
“Finally, Zoro, Sanji, you will have the last key.” She tosses it to Zoro, who rolls his eyes, knowing that this is all a part of the plan she’s devised. “You pair, me, and Luffy will have to put up the act of at least dating. I mean it Luffy!” She casts a dark glance to the Captain who is half listening to their plan.
“If we want intel, we’re going to have to seem like we’re on vacation. I’ve said that three of us are couples, which got us a discount, by the way. If you don’t keep up the act I’ll be punishing you all. ” Nami pointedly looks at Zoro and Sanji with her evil stare.
“So, you two,” Nami points between them, narrowing her eyes. “If you even think about fucking this up for us, I’ll make sure you both suffer as long as you’re on this ship.”
“Of course, my angel!”
“Whatever.”
—
In all honesty, checking in was a breeze. It was the hotel room that was the issue.
“There’s one bed.” Sanji says flatly. How did he not think about this? Nami’s sweet words made him forget all about the fact that he’s sharing a room with a mindless brute, and now he’s belatedly realising that he’s also going to have to share a bed with him.
“S’fine. I’ll sleep on the floor.” Zoro says mindlessly, dumping his bag on the desk chair. He then unhooks his belts from his hip, and lays them carefully against the desk.
“No! We can’t, you moron.” He huffs. “They’re going to come in here and see that when they clean up. It’s- It’s fine. We can just share.”
With that, Sanji proceeds to unpack his own bag into the closet. Zoro just shrugs and flops onto the bed, closing his eyes and zoning everything out.
“We have to go and meet the others soon. There’s a spa Nami wants to see, so she said to go there once we’re done.” Sanji folds his last shirt and places it in a drawer.
“Mhmm.”
“Are you going to even unpack, you caveman?”
Sanji is answered with a loud snore, most likely just to ignore him.
“Fine. I’ll do it myself then.”
---
The spa, admittedly, was a great break for Sanji. He’s always working, constantly being on his feet to serve his nakama the best food he can provide. And as much as he loves his job, it’s so nice to just relax. The hot springs are an amazing reprieve, soothing all of his aches that he didn’t even realise were there.
Luffy and Usopp are pattering about somewhere, Sanji can hear the splashes of water and laughter coming from them even from where he’s sitting. He has a hot towel over his eyes, drowning out the warm lights inside.
He feels the water of the hot spring ripple as someone steps in to join him. Sanji doesn’t bother lifting up his towel to see who it is, he knows the girls are getting a massage somewhere else and Chopper and Franky said they wanted to have a look around the place. Brook has been terrorising the in-house band since they arrived, and Sanji doubts he’ll let up anytime soon.
So really, the only person it could be is Zoro.
“Cook.”
Sanji only bothers to hum in response. He doesn’t really want to deal with the swordsman right now, and he’s way too chilled out to start a fight.
There’s more movement in the water, the current pushing towards him, until he can feel Zoro almost pressed up to his right side. His arm loosely drapes over Sanji’s, which is resting on the rocks behind them.
“They’re watching us.” Zoro murmurs into Sanji’s ear, right into his personal space.
Sanji shivered involuntarily at the proximity and Zoro’s low baritone, lifting the towel on his eyes to briefly glance around.
There was indeed someone watching them, a staff member just cleaning up after the others’ mess by the looks of it. He keeps looking over momentarily, and Sanji might be reading too much into it, but there’s a trace of suspicion in the guy’s gaze.
“They sure are.” The blonde tenses up a little, realising that he’s definitely going to have to do something to make this a little more believable. He sighs in defeat and leans into the swordsman, making sure that above water, they’re touching each other.
God, he hopes this will be over sooner rather than later.
---
Sanji is really trying not to let the bed thing bother him. He really is.
But Zoro is right next to him, snoring up a storm and arms outstretched into his space. He’s warm, which Sanji supposes is nice since he generally runs cold, but there’s so much of him and it's getting hard for the blonde to try and sleep.
He’s curled himself up and is at the other end of the bed, trying not to impose on all the space Zoro is taking up. Sanji can see his face in the dim lights from outside, outlining where all of his usually sharp features have gone soft and gentle. The guy doesn’t seem to care, especially now that he’s fast asleep, and Sanji wishes he could stop caring so he’ll rest.
He turns over so he can’t see the swordsman, and tries to get some form of sleep before the morning.
---
Oh, this is so fucking unfair.
Zoro knows that some higher affinity is messing with him right now. Normally in the morning he’ll find that he’s just too hot, verging on the line of discomfort, and it’s enough to get him up and somewhat lively for the day. Today though, he’s not, and it's because of Sanji.
Sometime in the night the idiot cook managed to curl himself into Zoro’s body, resting his head on one of his arms and one of his legs over the swordsman’s. He’s taken all of the extra body heat, and Zoro really doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s nice. He never thought that he’d be in this kind of predicament, and now he’s awake and can’t move, because Sanji will wake up and most likely freak out. He just hopes that he moves again while he’s sleeping so they don’t have to talk about it.
He’s staying as still as he can, trying not to stare at the mop of blonde hair in front of him. He can feel Sanji’s breath on his collarbone, it’s making goosebumps rise on his skin and taking all of Zoro to not brush the cook’s hair from his eyes, just to see all of his face.
He has to close his eyes, because if he keeps looking at him, Zoro knows that he’s screwed. This whole thing is Nami’s fault and he’ll happily curse her out later for all of this on the ship.
He doesn’t really want this to end, though. The temperature is nice, and the presence of someone else beside him is a welcome change despite him usually not being one for physical touch. He sighs and just tries not to think about the fact that it's Sanji- the idiot he’s been harbouring feelings for since Thriller Bark.
Zoro doesn’t know how long it takes the other man to move- or stir- or just get off of his arm, but he does, and he makes a small grumble of a sound before opening his eyes slightly and lifting his head a little.
Sanji doesn’t seem awake quite yet, and the guy just… flops back onto Zoro’s bicep. And pulls his leg so that Zoro’s hip is almost flush with Sanji’s thigh.
God damn it.
So now the cook is snuggled even closer to him, and apparently not ready to get up yet. Granted, Zoro isn’t really either, but this whole thing is fucking with his head. He knows Sanji won’t appreciate this, but it was him who ended up moving closer and invading the swordsman’s space overnight.
Zoro pulls his free hand across his face, rubbing his eye. Doing so was a grave mistake though, because it jostled Sanji enough for him to wake up properly this time.
The cook makes another noise before opening his eyes fully, still not 100% with the land of the living yet, trying to sit up.
Sanji freezes. The position they’re in has dawned on him, finally, and Zoro can see the cogs turning in his head, slight dread furrowing his brow, trying to figure out how the fuck this happened.
Zoro wishes he knew too.
“Shit- fuck- sorrY-AH” Sanji scrambles away from Zoro, in his haste managing to fucking fall off of the bed. His ass hit the floor with an impressive thump before he stood up and tried to straighten his creased clothes out.
Okay, that was pretty funny. As much as the cook is freaking out, that was a great fall, and seeing him hurry to grab the sheets as he went was priceless. The poor guy has a major case of bedhead and is currently breathing heavily, probably from the internal panic he’s sent himself into in the mid morning. Trying to hold back a laugh, Zoro grins at the mess of a man he has before him and actually tries to be useful.
“You alright?”
“Fine, thanks.” Sanji snips. He pauses and takes a deep breath in. It's fine. He’s fine. “What the fuck , mosshead?!”
He’s not fine.
“Hey, don't blame me! I didn’t do anything. It was you who got into my space last night.” Zoro sits up in the bed and points at Sanji, to make sure he gets his point across. This is not being pinned on him, if anything, it shouldn’t even be that big of a deal.
Sanji half scoffs and snarls, zeroing back in on the swordsman and getting back on the bed, seemingly to attack him. Okay, so he’s not letting this go just yet.
“You-- fucker!”
Zoro doesn’t think Sanji is realising what he's doing. The moron grabbed his bare shoulders, bumping foreheads and fucking straddling him. Like full on, legs on his waist and it’s like he’s threatening to squeeze Zoro in half with his raw strength.
The thought of Sanji doing that, mixed with the close proximity and seeing the cook all fired up leaves an embarrassing flush on his cheeks. Damn, that would be a good way to go. Wait- fuck, stop it! He’s trying to keep this as normal as he can and his feelings are not helping him one bit. Sanji still feels warm, his hands on the swordsman’s bare shoulders starting to become a little clammy under the heat build up.
“You’re just as much to blame! You woke up first, stayed there and just let me! Are you even fucking listening?”
Sanji shakes Zoro a little, to jostle him back, and actually does squeeze his waist this time . It’s all too warm now, and the feeling of Sanji’s thighs sends a warning signal to his brain that if he doesn’t do something, there will be a completely different issue at hand.
“Cook.”
Sanji’s eyebrow quirks up at him finally speaking, “Oh, okay, so the moss hasn’t seeped into your brain yet. Next time you better move or-”
“Cook. Get off.” Zoro is as blunt as possible, his tone as flat and level as he can make it.
There’s a pause. Sanji looks at him in confusion, then to his hands, and finally the rest of it.
“Ah. Right.” The blonde’s face is beet red, and he scrambles off the bed for the second time that morning, managing to not fall on his ass again.
---
“Surprised to actually see you in the sun, Curly.” He joins Sanji down on the sunbeds, opting to push his own one closer to the cook’s.
This is for two reasons. One: because they need to actually act like a couple, and two: it’ll piss Sanji off. And Zoro loves irritating him.
“Well, it’s not often I indulge in it. Being from the North really did a number on my tolerance for warm weather.” He side-eyes Zoro while placing his book across his chest, biting his tongue so he doesn’t snap. Zoro can see his eye and eyebrow twitch in annoyance.
“I know. You’re so pale that you look like a ghost haunting the ship at night.” He snickers, lying back.
The comment earns him a solid kick to the shin. Which, yeah, he should have seen coming, but Zoro’s in a rare annoying mood, and is taking it out on the cook because he’s the closest person to him right now.
“Fuck you, Mossy.” The answer is weak, and lacks bite, but Zoro can see it for what it is. He probably still feels bad for whatever that stint this morning was, and Sanji’s brain has most likely provided unnecessary commentary about how much he fucked up.
Which he hasn't, by the way.
Zoro does a scan of which crew members are currently here. There’s Nami, Brook, Robin and Franky right now. The cyborg is currently fixing up an instrument for Brook, and the girls are doing much of nothing, enjoying the weather and complimentary drinks. Goodness knows what the other three idiots are doing. There’s also another staff member again, not the same one, but they’re still eyeing all of the Strawhats with suspicion.
Zoro decides that he’s going to wind the cook up a little more, and also try to get the staff off of their backs at the same time. “Maybe later, shit cook.” He smirks.
“Excuse me?!”
“You heard me,” Zoro pitches his voice lower, leaning over into Sanji’s space, threatening to almost hover over him completely, tilting head over to the left as a subtle signal. “Over there.”
“Great,” Sanji answers. He huffs, placing a hand to Zoro’s cheek while trying to see the person watching them. Zoro leans into the touch and hums in agreement. “Hey, Moss.”
“Hm?”
“Sorry about this morning.” He ran his fingers into the swordsman's hair, trailing down to the nape of his neck, and staying there. Zoro’s hair was surprisingly soft considering he didn’t have much of a bathing routine.
“Whatever.” Zoro answers. He has to move away, flopping back into his own space, even if Sanji’s hands are delicate on his face, in his hair. He can feel himself trying not to blush at the close contact. “If you don’t wanna share the bed then I can still take the floor.”
“No!” Sanji answers maybe a little too fast. Clearing his throat, he tries again, a little flustered. “No, it’s okay. It-- it wasn’t bad.”
“Good to know, Curls. Anyway, are we doing anything else today?”
---
“C’mon Mossy, if you don’t get into something half decent then I’ll dress you myself.” Sanji tuts, sending a glare to Zoro, who’s sprawled across the bed like he’s got all the time in the world. They’re about to head out to meet up with Nami and Luffy for dinner. Sanji is silently praying that their captain won’t eat the place through tonight.
Zoro grunts noncommittally at the cook’s words, not even bothering to open his eyes. He’s still in the atrocious swim shorts he brought (just to piss off Sanji) and has yet to even shower. In an act of defiance, he rolls onto his side, pointedly away from the cook, who is still buttoning up his fancy shirt.
Sanji huffs at the idiot. “Oi, Swordsman.” He walks over to Zoro, and kicks his side. “I’ll fight you out of this bed if I have to.”
And oh, wouldn’t that be a sight. Zoro refuses to let his thoughts spiral any further, having to share the bed and.. this morning’s thing definitely wasn't helping the situation. Before his face gets too heated, he sits up, blindly reaching for a shirt. “Fine, fine.”
“Great. Wait! Do Not put that on.” Sanji dashes over before Zoro can blink, and snatches the shirt from his hands. “Thank goodness I packed some decent clothes for you, otherwise you’d be a walking disaster.”
Sanji then walks over to the closet he unpacked all of their belongings into and pulled out a suit. “Before you get changed, please at least shave that fucking kiwi stubble too. It’s been driving me insane.”
Driving Sanji insane is one of Zoro’s favourite things to do, so he has no idea why Sanji would call him out on it. He rolls his good eye, standing up and stretching, “You’re so demanding. Whatever, Princess.” He smirks, making his way to the bathroom without batting an eye.
“P-princess?! I’m helping you out here, you bastard!”
Zoro pays the cook no mind, getting his hunter’s knife out to shave. It’s another thing that pisses Sanji off, and he’s never bothered to change it. The knife works, and he’s never really managed to get a closer shave with razors.
He can stay mad, Zoro thinks, and gets to work.
—
The food here is good, but not as great as what Sanji could make. He takes mental notes of the improvements he could make as he tastes the seasonings, and looks across to Zoro, who’s already staring at him. He stops chewing and places down his fork. Zoro watches, and smirks as he sees he’s going to get a rise out of him.
“What.” Sanji says, tone calm, but teetering on the edge of kicking the Moss under the table.
“Nothing.” Zoro leans on his hand, taking a sip of the wine Sanji ordered for them. “You look cute when you eat.” He then tilts his head to the bar, where the bartender is looking intently at them.
Oh, right, they’re still being watched. Sanji smiles, trying to be as nonchalant as he can, and takes Zoro’s hand from his glass. “You’re too sweet, Darling. Speaking of,” He runs his thumb across Zoro’s knuckles, “That sauce isn’t to your liking, is it?”
He noticed that Zoro has managed to scrape the sauce from the pasta dish he’s currently eating and push it off to the side. Sanji presumes just from the smell that they’ve added something to sweeten it, and he knows that Zoro won’t touch it.
Without even waiting for a response, he swaps out their dishes. He places them as gently as possible, and just to keep up the facade, raises his hand to Zoro’s cheek to caress it. Zoro leans into the touch, whether it was consciously or unconsciously he doesn’t know.
“There you go. This is something you’ll like.” He smiles sweetly, going back to his meal.
Nami is looking at the other two and smiling into her food. Luffy isn’t paying attention at all, even though they’re supposed to be here on a double date type of thing. She knows that she’s not going to get noticed, so she giggles and finishes her food.
“I’m going to head back to our room. Luffy, if you’re not back in the next hour, I’ll come searching for you.”
“Okay Nami!” Luffy says with a mouthful of food. Sanji and Zoro hum in response, and she takes her leave gracefully.
In all honesty, Sanji doesn’t remember much of the meal afterwards. He noticed that Zoro cleaned his plate after they swapped dishes, and that’s all he really needed to feel content.
Luffy takes off once he’s full, leaving just the cook and swordsman at the bar. So far they’ve only shared a bottle of wine, but Sanji’s feeling a little wobbly once he’s had his third cocktail. Zoro’s back on spirits, and he’s lost count of how many the swordsman has thrown back at this point.
They’re both definitely not sober, and Sanji knows that Zoro can hold his alcohol, so he isn’t worrying too much. They’re both laughing at the bar over absolutely nothing, and Zoro is unconsciously leaning closer and closer to Sanji’s side. He can feel the heat radiating from the Moss, and Sanji finds himself wanting to curl himself up in that heat all over again.
“Moss, Moss, we should probably head back to the room.” Sanji laughs, putting his forehead on Zoro’s shoulder.
“Mmm- prolly..” He mumbles. “Let’s get a bottle to take up.” He grins as Sanji lifts his head up, and his face heats up. Probably the drinks.
“Mhm, yeah, sounds good.” He replies before he’s thought about it. Zoro orders a bottle of rum and some mixers for Sanji, and they take off to their room.
Zoro has the bottle in one hand, and Sanji’s wrist in the other. Sanji has the mixers, and is trying to fish out their room key without laughing.
He can't remember the last time he had so much fun like this, especially with the swordsman. It had to have been before they were separated, on a long and boring night on the Merry. When there were less threats, and they still had the essence of naivety to guide them. Sanji tries not to reminisce, but the smile Zoro is sending his way is making him extremely fond, wanting to do nothing more than get into their room so just Sanji can see it.
He finally gets the key from his back pocket, still giggling as Zoro releases his hold and the cook unlocks their door. They stumble in with an air of laughter, tripping out of their shoes and falling onto the bed messily.
Zoro takes the drinks from the blonde and places all of them onto Sanji’s bedside.
“You gonna lie like that all night, cook?”
“And what if I am?” Sanji grins, pulling his hand up to his face.
“Well, I guess I’ll just have to do this .” Zoro, without finishing his sentence, proceeds to haul the cook up and place him so he’s sitting at the head of the bed. He then slides right next to the blonde effortlessly, leaning on his elbow to face him.
It takes maybe three seconds after the whole thing for Sanji to even process it. He’s just been thoroughly manhandled by the moss, tossed around as if he weighed no more than a bedsheet. He’s blushing something furious, trying hard not to explode as he looks over at Zoro, and he’s laughing. It's so loud and open, Sanji was utterly starstruck.
Zoro flops onto his back, still chuckling, right next to him. Sanji needs to keep busy, or his thoughts might start to spiral.
“I’m- I’m gonna make a drink,” He clears his throat, shaking his head, as if that’s going to get rid of Zoro looking so naturally stunning. “D’you want anything Mossy?”
That's when he looks at the cook, and Sanji can’t read his expression. It’s something he’s never seen before. Well, he’s never really seen anything other than indifference and anger. Or maybe he’s seen his face once or twice before like this, way back when. It’s not something Sanji really pays attention to, and he really wishes he did now.
“Nah. Got the rum, that’ll do.” Zoro tilts his head over to the drink in question, and places his hands behind his head to relax. “Make your drink Curly.”
“Oh! Um- yeah. I’ll do that.” Sanji stumbles off the bed and takes a glass from the desk in the room. Making his drink wasn’t impossible, but he’s definitely more than a little tipsy, and maybe this should be his last drink of the evening. He puts in more mixer than spirit, hoping that will lessen the damage to his head in the morning.
Before Sanji can re-seal the bottle of rum, Zoro takes it as soon as he’s finished pouring. He takes a large swig of it, not even flinching at the burn that most likely coated his throat. What a brute.
Sanji flops back onto the bed carefully, making sure not to spill his drink onto the white bedsheets.
“Y’know, Curls,” Zoro starts. His face is flushed, most likely from the alcohol, and belatedly Sanji realises that Zoro is a lot more intoxicated than he originally thought. “You- you’re maybe the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Zoro leans back up again, getting closer to the cook as he does. Sanji subconsciously leans towards him too. “You’re all I need to be the best.”
What? Sanji is rendered completely speechless. He doesn’t know why Zoro is saying this. The swordsman is definitely drunk now, he thinks, if he’s talking like this; talking so freely, without any kind of filter. Sanji’s blush deepens tenfold, and he can feel the heat of it on his shoulders and collarbones.
“You’re always pushin’ me to be stronger. Be better. If you weren’t there, I don’t think I’d be half the swordsman I am now.” Zoro’s gaze feels like it’s burning into the cook, unable to look away. His eyes are darting around his face, admiring every small detail that he can find.
Sanji is mesmerised. He can’t remember the last time someone looked at him like this- spoke to him like this- with so much adoration- and it’s making him crumble. He doesn’t know what to do, He’s definitely not thinking about what that means. What Zoro is saying without actually saying it.
“C’mere, you absolute bastard.” Sanji’s tone is soft, with the fake annoyance he’s perfected from years of bickering.
He acts without thinking, pulling Zoro close, cupping his face in with his free hand. He blindly placed his drink on the side to take his face fully and kiss him. Zoro, maybe not surprisingly, reacts in turn, kissing him back with fervour.
This probably wasn’t a good idea. They’re both not sober, Zoro more so than himself, but Sanji really can’t find himself to care. Zoro’s cheeks feel so warm, his mouth is surprisingly soft for.. well.. him, and he’s getting completely lost in it. Zoro’s hand finds the cook’s waist, squeezing it lightly, and Sanji’s in turn slides down to the swordsman’s shoulders as he gets pushed onto his back by that sole hand.
Nearly breathless, Zoro pulls back, with Sanji blindly chasing after him.
“You’re gonna need to tell me to stop, Cook.” Zoro mutters, brushing his lips against his neck, trailing, down, down, down. “Before I can’t.”
It all feels so good, Sanji doesn’t know what to do. He wants this, wants to keep going, but the state they’re both in could cause an issue in the morning. What if Zoro did this because of the alcohol? He could be completely different once they wake up, maybe regretting whatever would happen next. What it would mean for them.
“Mm, Marimo,” Sanji gasps as the swordsman nipped the skin between his neck and shoulder. Fuck, it feels amazing, he so badly wants this to go further. “Zoro, c’mon.”
Sanji has to use all the strength in his body to try and pull Zoro back up to his face. He looks animalistic, lips glistening in the lamplight and eyes dark and cool, half lidded and wanting. Shit.
“We’re both drunk, are you sure?” Sanji is breathless as he talks, eyes darting across Zoro’s face for a hint of doubt or unsteadiness.
“Never been so sure in my life, Curly.”
Sanji shivers at the words, the tone, all of Zoro almost on top of him right now. Despite it, it still sends warning signals into his little overthinking brain, not wanting to risk the friendship and respect they’ve built over the years. He sighs, cupping Zoro’s cheeks in his hands and plants a gentle kiss onto his nose. It's completely different from the pace that was set earlier, and he sees the flush on the mossball’s face get darker at the soft action.
“This is amazing, and I really want to continue. But,” The chef starts, running a thumb across the other’s warm face, “Maybe we should do this without so much alcohol in our systems.”
The words seem to take a moment for Zoro to process. Sanji can see the cogs turning in his brain, and then him figuring it out. The Moss doesn’t seem upset about the notion of stopping, which he assumes is good.
“If that’s what you want.” Zoro hums. “I don’t mind.”
Sanji nods in affirmation, still looking at Zoro’s face in his hands. They’ve never looked at each other for this long before, always delving into either a screaming match or shooing the other out of their space.
It's nice, Sanji thinks, to have Zoro this close. To feel the heat of him underneath his palms.
Zoro eventually stops holding himself up and Sanji wraps his arms around the lump of Marimo on top of him. Despite how heavy he is, he’s a pleasant blanket around the chef, and he thinks that this might just be something he could get used to.
“We gotta get out of these suits, c’mon.” Sanji whispers, scared to break the peace they’ve found themselves in.
“But this is comfy,” Zoro grumbles, nestling his head into the crook of the blonde’s neck. He places a gentle kiss where his lips are laying on Sanji’s skin. “Don’t wanna.”
“You’d sleep anywhere, you algae riddled moron,” Sanji pats his back twice, “Right, get up. I don't want these to get ruined.”
“ Cook, ” Zoro sounds like a toddler having a strop; Sanji can’t help but chuckle at how childish the brute is sometimes.
“Nope, let’s go, pyjamas and then bed. And a glass of water for you.”
---
Zoro doesn’t remember falling asleep last night, but he definitely remembered everything else. The events keep replaying in his mind, and in all honesty, it doesn’t feel real. His face is flushed red already, and he puts a hand over his face to pull him back to reality.
It’s not like reality was any better. The cook was still asleep on top of him, which reminded him of the last time this happened and he ended up freaking out. Zoro really hopes that’s not going to be the case again, especially after that.
To be honest, Zoro wasn’t expecting to blurt out what he said last night. But he was being completely truthful, and doesn’t regret any of it one bit. He doesn’t live with regrets and he definitely won’t be starting now.
Also, considering all the drinks he was mixing last night, he didn't feel completely awful. There was a slight ache behind his eyes, and he had the worst case of a dry mouth, but other than that he’s pretty content to stay here.
Especially with Sanji here too, seeming to be in a pretty relaxed sleep. Zoro could easily do the same as well despite just waking up himself. He does need to piss though, so begrudgingly he tries to shuffle out from under the blonde without waking him up.
Sanji hopefully isn’t going to get into one of his little mental spirals over what happened last night. But knowing him, and knowing a little of how his head works, Zoro thinks he’s going to have to reassure Sanji that he’s not going to back out of-- whatever this is, and that he’s in it for as long as Sanji will have him.
Zoro manages his task of getting out of bed successfully, taking the empty glass on his bedside and going to fill it up while he goes to the bathroom. Knowing the cook, he’s going to be sporting a killer hangover for the rest of the day. Chopper is most likely going to be upset about them going a little overboard with the drinks, but it was a good night so Zoro thinks they can take a telling off from their little doctor for it.
With a yawn and a stretch, he tries to find a set of clothes that will keep him cool in the warm weather. The sun is positioned a little high already, so it looks like it's late morning. There was a fishing competition that Luffy wanted to do today with Zoro so he might need to actually look at waking the cook up. Plus, Sanji hates sleeping in too much. He’s up an hour after Zoro heads to bed usually, and even then that’s still pretty early in the morning.
“Oi, Curly.” Zoro throws on a shirt while he makes his way to Sanji and sitting on the edge of the bed. “Get up.”
Sanji stirs at the mention of the nickname, his face scrunching adorably and a pained groan escaping his mouth at the same time. “Ugh… Moss?”
Zoro smiles and ruffles his hair, earning him a half hearted shove and squawk, “Morning sunshine.”
“I feel like shit.”
“You look it.”
“Gee, thanks.” Sanji sits up, looking like it’s taking all of his energy to do so. Zoro hands him the glass of water on the bedside table and he takes it happily. He takes a few heavy sips before handing it back and mindlessly drooping his head onto Zoro’s shoulder. “Do you… remember last night?” He’s quiet as he asks the question, like he doesn’t want to scare Zoro off.
It won't scare him though, because it takes a lot more than a few kisses for that. He knows Sanji, even if Sanji doesn’t think he does. It’s been years since they sailed from the East, and he still remembers all the bravado the cook put on back then. How it eventually evolved into breaking those walls down and showing how much he genuinely loves his crew, and in turn how much they love him.
“‘Course I do.” Zoro pets the blonde’s hair affectionately; it seems to make Sanji realise what he's doing and he lifts his head, looking into Zoro’s eyes.
“And you don’t regret it?”
“Why would I?”
“You-- yeah, you wouldn’t. That's not how you work.” Sanji chuckles, wincing a little at how it made his head throb. Fuck, he shouldn’t be having this conversation while hungover. “The way you said it- last night-- you’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.” Zoro answers simply. It's the truth, and there’s no need to sugarcoat it.
“Okay, right, okay. And you’re sure about it?” There's a worry in his voice, shoulders tensing and trying to seek some form of affirmation from the swordsman.
“Of course, Curls. I don’t do shit in halves.” Zoro pulls Sanji's hair back from his face to show both of his curly brows, running his knuckles against the swirl of his right.
Zoro can see the uneasiness lifted from the cook as he finishes his words. It's such a relief, he looks good, even with the bedhead pale complexion of illness.
That’s all Sanji needs to take Zoro and kiss him again. Their noses bump and teeth clash in haste, making Sanji wince in pain once more, but they adjust quickly and get comfortable. Zoro holds Sanji with a gentle hand in his hair, running through the messy locks with little resistance.
Sanji makes a noise, patting Zoro’s shoulder and pushing him back a little in the same moment. Zoro complies and moves away, breathing heavily.
“Right, this is great , but I need to vomit real quick.”
Zoro laughs, falling onto his back as Sanji dashes to the bathroom, “Real charming, Curlicue.”