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Sanji was an idiot.
He heard that enough time from the old geezer, from Patty, from Carne, from everyone. He was nearly as much as an idiot as that shitty marimo, but he had enough braincell not to put it all on display... at least not always.
Maybe that was the problem.
He had enough introversion to know, he had issues. And not just a few at that, projection and anger (maybe) on the top of the list.
Definitely anger on the top.
He had - arm-in-arm with that sufficient swordsman - more than enough head bumps from the lovely Goddess incarnate Nami-swan to ever forget that.
All those fights and bickering and quarrel.
Sanji was an idiot.
He hated when someone forced him to do something, to say or admit things he wanted to keep to himself and the swordsman tried to do exactly that, but...
He had his reasons.
However Sanji also had his own, so what? Who's had more validation?
And it took Sanji more time than normal to realise and even more time to admit to himself that the answer was both.
~~~~~
Sanji stopped chopping onions the moment he heard the door open, familiar footsteps coming to his place. He lazily twirled the knife in his hand, trying to impress Zoro.
The swordsman was resting one hand on the door frame, shoulders slumped forward, head hung low, looking up at the other with lidded eyes, sturdy legs a bit wobbly.
If Sanji didn't know any better he would have guessed that the man was drunk. But he knew well.
It was a known thing among them that the First Mate had a ridiculous alcohol tolerance, Nami putting that to a good use in bets in shady bars whenever she had the chance.
But it was still weird, how the Mosshead in his disheveled state looked at Sanji. The blond raised a brow, "What's with you, Moss?"
The man, without a better word, looked miserable as he crossed the room and sat at the bar, or at least tried, fighting with his own weapons.
Sanji watched the whole scene in awe, the word "drunk" truly glinting above the swordsman's head.
Sanji smiled softly at the performance unfurling before his eyes, seeing a new side of the man. The low "You" coming from Zoro put a stop to the stretching of his smile.
Now, this was something entirely new.
And not for a bit Sanji liked it.
An uneasy feeling slowly crept up his spine, settling on his shoulders, watching the other man intensely.
"If you want to argue I'd opt for a bucket of water over your head first, cause you look like shit, Marimo."
"Yeah? And why's that you think?" For a drunk he was still getting out the words fairly intelligible, Sanji mused.
"It could either be the much consumed alcohol or the lack of it?" Sanji tried the light the tension that radiated from the man, but to no avail. The only response he got was a huff.
The cook put down his knife and wiped his hands on a dish-towel, going around to Zoro, trying to touch his shoulder, only for the man to shrug it off.
Zoro was never the one to shy or lean away from his touch, on the contrary; he welcomed it like a house cat, nuzzling into the hand further, enjoying the smoothing sensation.
Sanji sighed but stopped himself from pushing further, leaning to the side of the kitchen island. He went for the easiest way, in medias res.
"What's wrong?"
"You," the pang inside his chest hurt, but he pushed it aside, trying to understand.
"I've heard the first time, but that doesn't answers my question. What's with me?"
"Everything!" Zoro dropped his head to the surface, forehead knocking on the wood hard.
Sanji drew his brows together, really not getting the man. They were assholes to each other plenty of times, yeah, but they were...
He couldn't shake the feeling off.
The blond put an unlit cigarette to his lips, just for the sake of it and waited, chewing on the filter, foot moving to an unheard fast rhythm.
It took a few minutes until Zoro spoke again, Sanji nearly thinking he had fallen asleep, but he raised his head and looked straight at Sanji's eyes, holding his gaze. His eyes were hard and Sanji wanted to flinch. It made him more jittery, early memories of their journey coming back, progress thrown to the wind.
"Why do you make this so hard?"
The cigarette fell from Sanji's mouth and he let it hit the floor, not grabbing after it, as he would normally. The meaning behind Zoro's words caught him off guard.
The fear sitting on his shoulders started to ooze down, down his arms, down his torso, ingraining into his skin.
He had a fairly good guess what the swordsman was talking about, but Sanji thought he had time. And not that the circumstances were optional with jumping one place to the other, running, fighting, nearly dying.
Still, he needed the clarification, just to be sure, just to give into the doubt, pressing down the bile that was rising in his throat.
"What do you mean?"
Habits die hard and Sanji feared what was coming.
"I mean that what is this? We made out, we slept together and you are still shoving me back whenever you get the chance over a pair of tits. It's like I'm good for a distraction or a replacement, but nothing more. I told you fair and square, how I feel and you are still in your fucking seashell, using me how you want. Fretting over the crew finding out, what would the witch say if they know. I won't beg, I've got my honour, Cook."
Sanji's gut twisted with utter dread. His mind zeroed on the keywords, and he wanted to reassure the man, that he was wrong, that he was never a distraction, never just "another", but someone he cared for.
"Zoro, I..."
If only he would just listen, but the man just went on, not leaving a moment for Sanji to answer.
The words poured from Zoro and Sanji had no other option but to listen, accusation coming after accusation and he had no chance to react. The man was shitdrunk and without the filter, not that he would ever conceal his words, but this?
Sanji was trembling, tears prickling at his eyes, but he willed them back, not giving the satisfaction to Zoro to see him cry. How dare he? How dare he say that it was nothing more than a fling? Something casual?! That it meant nothing for Sanji?! If they had this talk with empty heads and normally, like adults, Sanji would have laughed.
But they didn't and he didn't.
The room around him started to fade, his vision narrowing on the swordsman and his fear reached his heart.
It cloaked the organ in despair, whispering he was a failure, a nothing, he couldn't do anything right, he couldn't make anyone happy, let alone his…
What was Zoro?
For a moment he mulled on the thought but the words kept flowing from said man's mouth and something inside Sanji snapped.
"SHUT IT!!" His own voice sounded foreign; harsh, unknown, trembling yet demanding. Sanji was heaving as he had just swam across the Grand Line with one gulp of air.
He needed air, but there was none. Only fire.
Fire that burned through him, that licked at his toes, fire that brought his friends: anger and fury.
It was easier than anything and came as a second nature; easy when called, raging when summoned, fuelling him endlessly. Sanji knew anger enough to welcome it with open arms, counting on it's help when Zoro's one remaining braincells pushed forward again.
Sanji barely heard the words, only knew he was labelled a liar.
Liar, useless, failure, liar, liar, useless, liar, failure.
The words kept swirling in Sanji's mind and he cracked. All he withheld, all they went through started coming out.
"That's no..."
He saw genuine shock on Zoro's face at the mention of Thriller Bark, but Sanji was gone too far in his head to deal with it. He wanted the words out, just like Zoro did. And if that idiot didn't let him speak, he won't let him either.
"You dare to stroll in here, shitfaced like you are just right now and accuse me?! That's just fucked up man! One day, you gonna drink yourself to death and I really hope, I won't be there to watch it. You may not know everything about me and despite I told you that I might need time, you throw this shit in my face? Calling me a liar?! It seems like you know nothing. And you know what? FUCK YOU!! I don't care if you're drunk, you were the one that told me that you don't want me to change. That you accept me, as I am. Don't change, I'll wait, blahblahblah... Bullshit!! You use big words as honour, yet you have no problem trampling over someone else's without a spared glance. What about mine, huh? Questioning everything who am I and why, not knowing why men ar...," Sanji shut his mouth, realising his line of thoughts and dismissed it. He won't let the man know anything else about him, not about that, not about his family.
But he wanted Zoro to know about him. He wanted to trust and continue as they were. He wanted it. Sanji was conflicted but it was too late and he went on.
"You charge in here, demanding why am I still like me and not as you? You're a hypocrite Zoro. You want me to be like you, a brute with no tact and no remorse? Because I know you fucker, tomorrow when you'll wake with a fucking headache I hope, you won't seek me out to talk because you'll still think that you are right. You want me... NO, you require me to be like you, as you? Well, news flash that's not gonna happen cause I'm different. And if you don't want that, you know where the fucking door is."
He really was heaving, hands squeezing the counter looking at Zoro constantly, waiting for something, anything, hoping.
"And? You were the one who first came to me..." Zoro flashed him a grin, that would usually do funny things to Sanji's stomach but now it just turned his blood ice cold.
It felt like Zoro threw everything out the window, after he stomped on it meticulously with his clumsy feet. He lowered his head, looking at his own hands.
"Get the fuck out."
It was all Sanji could say. He wanted to be alone, he wanted to cry, to disappear, to evaporate to nothing, but not before him.
Not now, not ever. He won't crumble before him.
The weak protest coming from Zoro only emptied Sanji further, he wanted him gone.
"Don't care what you do or don't, but please, get out. Now, preferably."
Sanji felt drained and Zoro without another word, went out the door.
A trembling sigh left him but something was not right. His throat clenched, and he felt he would throw up.
Sanji got what he wanted, the man was out of sight, then why did he feel bad?
He was rooted to the floor, gaze fixed on a long healed cut on his middle finger, when something fell onto the counter next to it.
Another.
Another.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
He anchored himself to the counter, not caring if the wood broke, and cried, without a sound. He didn't want to be alone with his thoughts.
He wanted Zoro to come back, fuck an apology, just hug him. He wanted to feel heat, warmth from that furnace.
He wanted to go after him, but…
He didn't.
Sanji was familiar with pain, relatively with loss too, but this was on a new level. The only time he felt similar was when he lost his mother and he had no pretense to feel that way again in his life. The thought that it was absolutely inevitable was shoved to the back of his mind and yet here he was.
Alone and crying.
He felt pathetic.
Sanji stayed the night glued to that one spot, fearing if he lifted his leg, he would collapse and won't be able to get up. He stared at the varnished surface, focusing on nothing, replaying the night over and over again.
He stayed, gripping the wood for grounding, for support and when morning came, when his tears dried, when his cheeks were normal and not puffy, he cleaned the place he blemished with his tears, went back to his station, chopped the remaining vegetables, putting them away for later and started preparing breakfast.
When Robin entered the galley, she only saw Sanji at his usual place with his usual smile, with fresh coffee on the table in front of her allotted chair. The only odd things she noted were yesterday's clothes and dark circles under the cook's eyes, but she knew better than to press into that.
She thanked him and sat down, watching the man who busied himself with dishes to be served soon.
Sanji felt the need to be normal, not to give away anything so he acted as he always did, and no one raised any brow if it was acted on a bit too much. It was an unsaid pact between Zoro and him, that they would never disturb the crew's status, more than they did every day with their bickers.
And someone may have looked down on him with pity as a vision came down from the Heavens, with the beautiful name, Camie and distracted his mind.
A real mermaid, a breathtakingly gorgeous, young mermaid, nothing like Kokoro-san. Sanji tried to scratch that image from his mind, but it had etched itself into it.
The only time they acknowledged each other face to face with Zoro - apart from the sneaked glances during breakfast - was when the swordsman wandered into the heart of Sababody and he was on deck with Usopp, bound to say something.
Sanji was all over the moon with the mermaid lady, saving her friend, helping her out of course, and when they came across the man on his own unrecognizably hideous wanted poster, he thanked the uppers again.
He had someone actually physical to deduced his tension on, and his daily good turn was done as a handsome new face, although on the brain... That was an other matter, one he couldn't help with.
Things escalated quickly over the day, with Camie being kidnapped and bound to be sold for those nosey, snob, so-called privileged ancient progenies, hence they had to act fast and hurry. He had never heard of the Celestial Dragons before, but he had contact with people who treated everything and everyone as if they owned them. And used them according.
He was more than glad that Luffy punched the disgusting fatass, sending him into the concrete and into oblivion, but they needed to get going and quick at that.
Then there was Kuma.
Again.
They finished him off together, only for another to emerge with a companion.
With Zoro still not fully healed, with all the crew's injuries after Thriller Bark and knowing how strong the newcomers were, they had no other option but to separate and run. Luffy was shouting orders and meeting points with time, and their parting words were laced with worry and bicker.
Sanji wanted the fucker to run, not to put up a fight as usual, not to protect, but to run, to be safe and when they meet up again; talk.
If only someone had mercy on them, it might have gone that way, but they were bound to fail and loose.
Sanji was caught up with Nami and Franky, running one way with all their might when they heard it.
Usopp and Luffy were crying out Zoro's name is despair, the tone twisting his guts, wanting to turn and run the other way, back, back, towards him, but he had to protect his own group, they were his job now, he had to go on.
They didn't get far.
An Admiral.
That power frightened Sanji to his core and it shook him and before he knew anything, Zoro was under his shoe.
Why couldn't they get one day of peace? Just one fucking day of peace without danger, without fight, without worry that they would fucking die?!
Sanji watched in horror, as the Marine lifted his leg, knowing Zoro wasn't able to get up and Sanji was too far, he would never get there in time.
Time was a tricky thing in the world, slowing down and speeding up how it liked, how it saw fitting, not caring about individuals, but only itself.
They all watched in slow motion as the man's leg was brought down, their cries echoing all around, mortified, defeated, willing to sacrifice themselves for their First Mate, but this was not Thriller Bark.
This was not a Shichibukai before them, with whom they could bargain with.
This was a fucking Marine Admiral, who fought and caught pirates to execute them. The man was out on a hunt and Zoro was his first victim.
The word 'victim' hollowed Sanji's heart, because he never thought he would see their swordsman in such a state and because that's what they were all going to be; dead bodies and collateral damages under the World Government's boot, with nothing left behind of them.
What good he was if he could not help him? If he could not help anyone?
If he let his chance fly by and do nothing?!
Liar, useless, failure, liar, liar, useless, liar, failure.
Something flew through the field with rapid speed and the Admiral was stopped mid blow by Rayleigh.
Sanji started to run back, where Zoro was, where the fight was, where maybe death was lurking, waiting for them, but he had to. He needed to be quick and lethal, he needed to save him, he needed to get him out of there and into somewhere safe, anywhere but here. He left Nami to Franky's care and ran as fast as he could, plunging himself into the Kuma-clone and darkness.
He woke moments later to screaming, Usopp's high-pitched shriek ringing through heavy in the air, repeating the name over and over and over again.
"Zoro? Zoro! ZOROOOOOO!"
Sanji knew when he saw the real enemy, and the one standing before their resident liar was the one. The real Kuma was standing there, towering over the sharpshooter, with Zoro nowhere in sight.
Time stood still as Sanji looked around, searching for that green mold somewhere. Maybe he had just missed him and Usopp had something in his eye, or some mind-trick was in play, because it couldn't be.
He should be here somewhere, just napping like always, who cares if a war is going on? He should be here.
He should be here.
He should...
Liar, useless, failure, liar, liar, useless, liar, failure.
Sanji's soul perished.
He was nothing, a useless brat, a good for nothing idiot, who couldn't keep anyone safe, never strong, never enough, who chased dreams unreachable and couldn't protect the man he loved.
His fingers found their way into his hair, pulling, plucking, tearing at it, while he fought for air, for a tiny breath, to continue, to not give in, to not give up, to fight for his family. To fight for their remaining lives.
He needed to get up and kick that warlord hard enough so he would give back their swordsman. His swordsman.
He faintly heard the other's cries and Luffy's order "To get back" but the ringing in his ear made it muffled.
Sanji watched as Brook tried to protect him and Usopp, only to vanish the next moment and he was sent tumbling backwards again and when he looked up Usopp was gone too.
Sanji was mad, he lost his mind, he wanted to hurt, he wanted to protect, to attack, to get back everyone only to...
~~~~~
Two years.
Two long years Luffy signalled them and Sanji was broken, guilt eating him away. Ace meant Luffy's childhood, meant family to him and he perished before his very eyes.
His crew was not there to comfort him, to help him because they were just small fish among the predators of the great vast seas and they were overrun by force and power they all lacked.
Sanji vowed never again.
He won't be weak, he won't be fragile, he won't be a failure.
They would get back together and they would conquer the Grand Line and everyone would achieve their dreams and they would be good.
They would be back on the Sunny, with Brook's music, Nami's shouts, Chopper's shrieks, Usopp's tales, Robin's smiles, Franky's 'suuuuuper', Luffy's laughs and Zoro's grumbles.
Sanji was certain his new dream would become a reality past their time apart and he could hardly wait for it.
Every day he hoped all his friends were all right and in good hands.
And in two years he had enough time to think over his own actions, his own words, his own faults.
Trapped on the Queendom Sanji learnt about not just woman in general and their inner and outer strength, which he equally feared and admired, although he would rather drown himself in a spoonful of water than admit it to their faces, but about himself too.
He loved Zeff, he owed his life to him, but his views on relationships and male-female roles were rather conservative and male-based, if he wanted to be sophisticated.
In his teaching a woman always and foremost should be cherished and treated with care, regarding their delicacy, their fragile nature and men knightliness. But this stripped the ladies from showing their own strength, living their own life, forging their own future. It was like they were only there to "look beautiful", to be a nice exhibition item, be shown around and adorned but without much thought further than their basic and believed needs. It was a must, not to ever hit them or hurt tham in any way, even though Sanji knew that sometimes they deserved too.
It was rather hard and painful to accept years and years of belief being wrong, despite he had seen what ladies were capable of if he just thought about Nami and Robin. They were both strong, their resolve diamond hard. Their painful past should have hardened their hearts to stone, but they were ready to give their life for their friends. And they had their flaws too, Sanji sadly admitted to himself with a sigh. It was a hard pill to swallow but he learnt that women could be cruel and mean too, even if they were beautiful. Sanji wanted to shy away from the truth but to no avail. The knowledge was kicked into him with hairy high-heeled legs, with frilly undergarments and with various length dresses. The complexity stirred his mind and rearranged everything.
At the end of the day he was glad for it.
Some belief rooted so far inside his brain that it was a real pain to dug it up. One was his relationship with the swordsman.
When he opened his eyes, not knowing where he was, his first thought was Zoro and where he was. He vaguely remembered Kuma swinging his paw his way, a popping sound then nothing more before opening his eyes to blue-pink sky. He remembered the last thoughts being about "his swordsman and Sanji felt confused.
Facing his own emotions was one of the hardest he had ever done, but if he ever wanted another chance with the green-haired algae, he needed to get himself straight. Well not straight like a fucking ruler, he had more than enough turmoil thanks to that.
He loved the man.
More than any woman he ever had a crush on, more than any fling, more than anything.
That was the biggest lump always blocking his throat, not letting the words flow out, the words the man wanted to hear. He appeared as an unshakable character, yet he needed the reassurance and Sanji took that away from him. Sanji felt like shit.
He shouldn't have lashed out on their last night together, he shouldn't have risen to the bait, it was a shit move. He should have fucking listened and not spat back his own venom.
He was fucking selfish and there was nothing to sugarcoat it. He was at fault. Still he couldn't forget those words, labelling him as Zoro did.
And he felt more like shit when he realised he made this whole thing about himself in his head.
How big of an egoistic ass he was that he made this about himself, when Zoro just wanted to hear something back. He was such a...
No.
Sanji put a stop at his thoughts. If he start this again, he would never get out of his head and then his chance would be gone. He made a mistake, a big one, for which he had to grow up and atone for.
At first he wanted to undo everything what he said, but he understood that both of them needed those words to get out of their systems. If they kept them back further, it would have exploded later, maybe irreparably. It was better this way. Well, kind of.
If they hadn't jumped to each other's throats, Sanji would have powered through this two years without getting out his head from his own ass and they would still be on square one.
He needed to look past his childhood and appreciate what was in front of him. Zoro had never hurt him, not intentionally. Bruises after sparring was one thing, but never with the purpose of ill intent. He never made him feel small, despite their constant name calling and pleasant exchanges. He never made Sanji feel any less than he was; a member of the Straw Hat crew, the chef of the Thousand Sunny and the Wing of the Future Pirate King. Equal to the Future Greatest Swordsman and a man that he loved dearly.
Sanji missed Zoro every fucking day and counted the days till he could depart from the island. He had a lot to thank to Iva but that faint pinkish glow surrounding the refuge of okama's, made him gag with time. The overall sweet flowery perfume scent made him allergic, sneezing from time to time, mornings becoming a dread with snot and drool and he itched under the dresses, his skin sensitive and irritated. He wanted to go home.
When the day came, he was more jittery than ever before, chain smoking the whole trip, not caring if he smelled like a fucking factory chimney, he wanted to get off the ship, set his feet on Sabaody and find that growing green grass and confess.
If Zoro didn't want anything to do with him, fuck that, he would make him listen anyhow. After that he could decide. But he had to listen to him first, he needed Zoro to listen.
He wanted the swordsman to still want him.
The moment his shoes tapped grass, he was blinded by all the new people, all the exquisite beauties, but only for a few moments, the charm of novelty. Two years with nothing but the same pushy people took a toll on Sanji.
Soon he found himself with a wanted poster in hand, asking around for the Marimo, when someone finally set him on a path and not long after he found himself face to face with the man he dreamed of.
And he was the same yet different.
Fuck different, the man was huge…
The green yukata barely covered his massive chest and Sanji felt something way too familiar form behind his nose. He quickly wiped a hand at it and thanked everyone when it came back clean. Maybe he really was perverted, but he needed to contain himself.
The most noticeable part of Zoro, apart from the growth and change to proper clothes from rags was the halved eyes. His left was closed with a vertical scar and Sanji craved to know if he could still see or was it closed forever, although it made him more intimidating, he had to give him that. Not that Sanji needed any further persuasion that the man was attractive, with water dripping down skin.
Sanji chuckled at the scene behind Zoro, a ship in half as he walked towards the man with measured steps. He wanted to run but, hard to admit, he was scared. There was a tight grip around his throat and around his heart, still he walked on, while the swordsman did the same.
Zoro's face was a mask, stoic as ever and Sanji hoped, with everything he had, that he was not too late. It was impossible to tell if he would draw his swords to attack Sanji or walk by him. He seemed unaffected of their encounter, although their eyes were strictly on each other. Sanji blessed his mind for that little change of hairstyle and kept his gaze on the man before him, stopping a feet away.
Zoro didn't walk by, but spoke.
Sanji felt weak, tears threatening to spill at the words because he didn't deserve them. He was the one who should have apologised.
He let the tears spill, not caring, letting the swordsman see them, see his weakness, see his heart, see his remorse.
They still needed to talk, long and thorough, but not now. They had more important matters, more pressing issues. It was Sanji's turn to speak, not to let the man believe anything else, not to leave him in doubts, not to let the chance to make it right slip.
Sanji closed the last gap between them, with intense gaze, tall and proud and trembling inside.
"Zoro, I-I love you."
The hug squeezed out all the air from his lunges, his ribs creaked, his arms became numb, the soft hair tickled his cheek, tears watering the moss and there was not a thing he would have changed.