Work Text:
“Where are you taking me, Mosshead?” Sanji looked around at the upscale shops and the bustling, well-dressed crowds. They'd long since left the part of town that pirates tended to frequent and were surrounded by boutiques and restaurants much fancier than anything Zoro would ever patronize. “Are you lost again?" He pointed over his shoulder. "The dive bars are down by the docks.”
Zoro glared at him. “Weapons maintenance.”
Sanji glanced around but he didn’t see anything resembling a sword shop or weaponsmith. He did see an extremely familiar flower shop though. Its elaborate window display for the island's month-long romance festival featured what appeared to be a chubby Skypeian baby somehow managing to fly over the floral arrangements despite having such tiny wings. He was armed with a bow and arrow and wearing a crown of leaves. Sanji didn't know what it had to do with romance or selling flowers, but it was certainly memorable.
“Are you sure? I’m pretty sure we passed that florist three times.”
Zoro stopped and scowled at the display as if it had personally offended him, but instead of arguing with Sanji like he usually did when his sense of direction was questioned, he pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it over.
Sanji unfolded the paper to reveal an address written in Robin’s elegant script. There was no shop name, just a street address. He scanned the nearby street signs. "You weren't too far off, Marimo. It's this way."
He grabbed Zoro's sleeve so they didn't get separated in the crowd. He'd learned his lesson in Dressrosa. He wasn't going to let Zoro out of his sight no matter how many beautiful women were out and about celebrating love and romance.
Of course it helped that Sanji was spoken for now. Zoro may have begrudgingly accepted his undying affection for women, but he wouldn't be happy if Sanji abandoned him to flirt with someone else.
That didn't mean he didn't look though. Looking was allowed.
They passed a sidewalk cafe full of couples eating delicate heart-shaped pastries and exchanging gifts. Across the street was a small park with several couples picnicking. The crowd slowed to a stop to watch as one of the picnickers knelt to one knee in front of his date and held out a ring box.
Sanji smiled as the woman nodded her head enthusiastically, clearly holding back tears. "That's lovely."
Zoro snorted. "Not like she could say no in front of all these people."
Sanji sighed and yanked Zoro roughly toward their destination. The man didn't have a romantic bone in his body. Being with Zoro had meant abandoning his more elaborate romantic fantasies. Zoro wasn't the sort to surprise him with a glamorous date or passionate proposal. But he was loyal and devoted. It was a fair exchange even if Sanji sometimes wished they would spend less time in dive bars and more in elegant bistros.
Sanji stopped in front of a building with a large sign that read "Paradise Spa." He frowned and compared the address on the paper with the building in front of him. "Are you sure this is the right place? There aren't any swords here."
"It's the right place," Zoro said, a pink blush spreading across his cheekbones. "I didn't say it was my weapons that needed maintenance."
"What?" Sanji asked, genuinely confused. Zoro didn't answer him though, instead pulling him into the shop.
"No smoking in the spa," the man at the front desk said as soon as they entered.
Bemused, Sanji removed the unlit cigarette from between his lips and tucked it in his pocket.
The man at the desk looked them over critically, his eyes lingered on the scar bisecting Zoro's chest and he frowned. "Do you have a reservation? We're entirely booked up for the festival."
"It's under Prince," Zoro answered.
The man scanned his reservation book. "A deluxe couples pedicure in one of our private rooms?"
Sanji's mouth dropped open and he gaped at Zoro. "A what?"
Zoro ignored him and nodded at the man. "Yeah, that."
The man gestured at the hallway behind him. "Room three. Your pedicurists will be with you shortly. Go ahead and make yourselves comfortable."
Sanji wordlessly followed Zoro into the room and waited until the door was closed before he spun on him. "A couples pedicure? What's going on?"
Zoro didn't quite meet his eyes. "Your feet and legs are your weapons. They need to be cared for just like my swords."
"Zoro," Sanji said flatly, his given name a clear signal to cut the bullshit.
"I saw the wistful way you looked at all the signs for the festival," Zoro admitted softly. "I expected you to drag me out to dinner or something, but you never mentioned it."
Sanji shrugged. "I know you don't like this stuff."
"And I know you do." Zoro leaned his swords against the wall, took off his boots, and sat down in one of the plush chairs with a large basin in front of it. He pointed at the chair next to him. "Sit."
Sanji slipped off his shoes and took the seat. He'd had a few pedicures during his time on Momoiro Island so he at least had some idea what to expect. Thankfully he hadn't worn his usual suit today opting instead for cropped pants that were easy to roll up. "Roll your pants up to the knee."
"You've done this before?" Zoro asked.
Sanji didn't talk about his time on Momoiro Island often. The experience had challenged him in ways completely unrelated to fighting. It had made him confront a lot of things about himself that he hadn't been ready for at nineteen. But as he grew more comfortable in his own skin he appreciated his time there more. Without that experience, he may have never accepted his attraction to Zoro and instead of enjoying a spa day together they would probably be fighting back on the Sunny.
Not that they didn't still fight on the Sunny--it was how they flirted after all.
"On Momoiro Island I was expected to learn about the Bridal Arts. Even after they accepted that I didn't desire to live my life as a woman they insisted I learn more than just the ninety-nine secret recipes of Attack Cuisine. And included were lessons on grooming." Sanji answered. "The pedicures were one of the few aspects of the training that I didn't hate. Especially after I'd been running long enough and hard enough that I accidentally learned to Sky Walk. My feet hurt."
"You were getting pedicures while I fought ridiculously powerful monkeys."
"Did you miss the part where I had to run so hard that I learned how to fly?"
Zoro smirked and leaned back in the chair. "So what exactly are the 'Bridal Arts?'"
Thankfully Sanji was saved from answering by the arrival of two men in crisp white uniforms and masks covering the lower half of their faces. He may not think of his time on Momoiro Island as hellish any longer, but he'd still shared enough for one day. Someday he'd like to share all of the things he'd learned there with Zoro, but not yet. He was still figuring out who he was without Judge's harsh expectations and Zeff's narrow view of masculinity. He wasn't ready to put all of it in words yet.
He'd come a long way, though. If only Ivankov could see him now. Sitting in a fancy spa on a date with his boyfriend. They'd be proud of him.
"Zoro," Sanji said quietly. He reached out and took Zoro's hand, twining their fingers together. "Thank you."
Zoro smiled. "I'll even let you drag me to one of those fancy restaurants when we're done. As long as they have cheap booze. I already owe the Witch an arm and a leg for scheduling this."
Apparently Zoro wasn't entirely without romance after all. Just mostly.
