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Sanji lets the sea breeze brush past him. He’s leaning against the railing, unlit cigarette hanging in the corner of his mouth. The sky is a light gray, teasing the chance of rain, he breathes in.
He’s not sure when it started, but it’s been this way ever since he could remember. He’d occasionally get this way. It could hit him in the middle of a beautiful day or a cloudy one like this. It would come for him at breakfast, in his sleep, during a restock, it doesn’t discriminate. Sometimes he’s ready for it, other times, like today, he isn’t, and it catches him off guard, envelopes his world, and keeps him still. It keeps him numb. He stares down at the water, it’s taken on a dull hue to reflect the sky above. He contemplates jumping in, just to feel something, anything. He thinks about letting the waves consume him, returning his body to the only thing that has stayed the same his entire life.
It would be easy. He would finally feel okay, this pain that somehow manifests into nothingness would disappear. He doesn’t believe in God, or any kind of deity. He finds comfort in it all just fading to black, he can’t comprehend what it’d be like to not exist anymore, but that’s the point, he wouldn’t feel anything, he would just cease to be. Sanji is tired.
He is so, so, tired.
He continues to stare into the depths, not really seeing anything at all.
The water would fill his lungs, it would hurt. It would really hurt. But it can’t compare to how things are now, it can’t compare to the crippling tightness that always manages to squeeze his chest.
Maybe if he stays out in the cold long enough, when he goes back inside he’ll be able to feel his fingertips tingle, to welcome the pleasant sensation of the galley’s warmth back into his system.
Suddenly, his body is yanked backwards harshly, he stumbles and drops his cigarette in the process.
“What the fuck is your problem Marimo?”
“What the fuck is my problem? You looked like you were about to fall in Cook, half your body was hanging off the railing- what’s going through that thick skull of yours?”
Sanji’s eyes widened in realization, had he really been that close to...?
He hadn’t realized he had zoned out until Zoro began snapping his fingers in face, trying desperately to get his attention.
“Hey, Hey, Cook!” Sanji flinched, “Are you with me now?”
The blonde nodded slowly and shook himself out of his stupor. Zoro sighed in relief and relaxed his grip on Sanji’s shoulder, when did his hand get there?
“What’s wrong?”
Sanji stared at him in shock for a second, then quickly broke out of his hold to stalk away to the galley.
“Nothing. Now mind your damn business Mosshead.”
Sanji was washing the dishes when he felt a presence join him by the sink, an outstretched calloused hand appeared in his line of sight, ready to dry the dish he was about to finish rinsing.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m helping you with the dishes.”
“It’s Usopp’s turn on dish duty today,” Sanji hands him a wet plate.
Zoro sniffs, “I said I’d take his night watch for this week in exchange.”
“Seems like you got the shitty end of the deal,” Sanji says, clearly trying to steer this conversation away from where he knows it’s headed.
He can tell that it’s not going to work, Zoro has a one track mind, if he wanted to know something he’s going to ask, “Are you going to tell me what’s been going on with you lately?”
“There’s nothing to tell, not that I would tell you anyways-”
“That’s bullshit and you know it.”
Sanji scoffs, “I’m fine.”
“Didn’t seem that way yesterday-,” Zoro interjects. Damn, he’s dead set on pulling the truth out, but Sanji’s not going to let him.
“I was just tired is all. Now leave well enough alone dumbass.”
“I can’t.”
Sanji’s eyebrow twitches, irritation growing, “What do you mean you can’t -”
“I can’t. Not when I can tell you’re hurting.”
Sanji’s eyes widen, and then he laughs mockingly, “Since when have you ever given a shit about if I’m hurting or not?”
Zoro is facing him now, a half dried dish forgotten on the countertop next to him. Sanji has to resist looking away, he refuses to back down, but Zoro is looking at him strangely, it makes him uneasy.
Sanji tries to ignore him, he finally breaks his gaze and returns his focus back to the dishes in the sink. The stupid Marimo can continue being weird, he has things to get done.
And he intends to, until he feels Zoro’s presence shift closer to him. He whips his head back up to look at the swordsman in confusion, but Zoro just continues to advance towards him, “What the fuck are you-?”
And suddenly he is enveloped in strong arms, his head being tucked under Zoro’s chin.
“Huh?” Sanji squeaks, not really processing what just happened. Why is Zoro hugging him? His arms are trapped against his sides, but he wouldn’t be able to move them even if he wanted to, he was too shocked by the feelings rushing through him out of nowhere.
His whole body tingles in a mix of warmth and nervous energy, his breathing picks up, and Zoro tightens his hold around him. Sanji feels… he feels. He hasn't felt this safe in ages, it’s like the pressure from the hug is squeezing all the tension out of his body, and he completely melts.
Zoro’s rough voice reverberates softly next to his ear, the back of his neck feels hot, “If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to, but don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re alone in this.”
And suddenly, as if those last words were all it took, Sanji unravels. He crumbles into Zoro, sobbing and heaving shuddered breaths into the crook of the swordsman’s neck. He can’t recall the last time he broke down like this, he didn’t realize all of this was lying beneath the surface.
Zoro adjusts his hold, maintaining the same pressure, one arm wrapped around Sanji’s waist and the other clutching blonde strands, pushing the cook’s face into his chest.
They stay like that until Sanji has to start prepping for dinner. They don’t talk about it.
Sanji can’t stop thinking about it, the incident . He spent all of dinner in a considerably better mood, he even ate more than usual, which was a little concerning. After dinner, he took his time getting ready for bed, and almost instantly drifted off to sleep once his head hit his pillow. But the whole time, he just couldn’t get over how secure he felt, in Zoro’s arms of all people too. What irked him even more was how well-rested he felt the next morning. Something was seriously wrong with him, but he figured he’d give it a few days before actually starting to worry. It could be that this was just a one off.
And technically, he was right. The next day things went relatively back to normal, he woke up, felt like shit, ate like shit, and slept like shit. The day after that, the numb pain started to return, but this time felt different, like he was craving something, he just didn’t know what. It almost felt like he was itchy, there was a weird tension that lay just beneath his skin that he couldn’t discern.
It wasn’t until another incident happened that he was finally able to figure out what was bothering him so much.
The crew had stopped at an island for some quick repairs and to restock on supplies, with the intention of partying hard as a little treat once everyone’s work was done. They met up at a popular bar, it was filled to the brim with all kinds of people, pirates, townsfolk, etc. The environment was lively yet a certain level of calm permeated the air, it seemed like the perfect place to sit back with a drink and relax. And so, that’s what they did, with the obvious exception of their more rowdy crew members.
Sanji had taken advantage of this rare gap of free time by drinking and flirting to his heart’s content. He flew around the room, chatting up woman after woman, but ultimately dismissing himself before they could get too close. In the midst of all the parading he was doing, he managed to drink a bit more than intended, and was currently trying to convince the bartender to sell him another shot of something.
“Why are you torturing the bartender?”
Sanji paused his incomprehensible rambling and turned to the source of the voice, hey, he knows that voice. Looking to his right, Zoro was leaning against the bar, close enough to him that their elbows were touching. A giddy feeling rushed through Sanji’s head and he promptly forgot about the bartender in favor of yelling a bright excited, “ Marimo!” and throwing his arms around Zoro’s neck. He raised his eyebrows at Sanji’s behavior, but ultimately returned the embrace with little fanfare.
Zoro grimaced at the blonde’s volume then huffed in amusement, “Just how many drinks have you had Curly?”
Sanji giggled into the swordsman’s collar, “I dunno, heyy, hey Zorooo, do ya think you can get me another one? That guy wants to cut me off, it’s notfairrr,” He whines, words barely stringing together coherently.
Unbeknownst to Sanji, Zoro gives the bartender a nod in thanks, then starts dragging Sanji towards the exit, mumbling, “Poor bastard…” under his breath.
Zoro has a secure arm around Sanji’s waist while he holds onto the blonde’s arm slung over his shoulders. It’s a slow walk to the exit, especially since Sanji refuses to use his feet, but Zoro is nothing if not a patient man.
“Where we goin’?” Sanji blearily asks, barely holding onto consciousness.
“We’re going back to the ship, you’ve had enough for tonight.”
Now that wakes Sanji up.
“Nooooooooooo… I wanna stay fer a lil longerrrrr-”
Zoro chokes as Sanji attaches himself to his front again, arms loosely slung around his neck, something in the back of Sanji’s subconscious tells him that he must look pathetic right now, but he’s at least 4 drinks in and he can’t bring himself to care.
Zoro takes a moment to wrap his arms around the blonde in return, and there it is, that feeling that Sanji’s been looking for, he finally feels whole again. He drunkenly nuzzles into the swordsman’s cheek and hums a song to himself. They stay like that, swaying gently in the cool night air under a warm street light.
After a minute or two, Sanji is caught off guard by Zoro grunting, “Alright, here we go-” and is lifted into a bridal carry. Under usual circumstances Sanji would be kicking and screaming, but he feels too good to fight it right now, so instead, he curls up in Zoro’s arms and falls asleep on their way back to the ship.
He briefly wakes up as Zoro is laying him down in his bunk. His sleepy yawn is met with a shhhh and the feeling of a warm hand brushing his bangs to the side. Before drifting off completely, he could’ve sworn he felt someone softly kiss his forehead, he decides to file that thought away for later.
Okay, so something is seriously wrong with him. He can’t stop craving Zoro’s touch, it’s like once he’s gotten a taste of it, now he can’t get enough. There’s just something so comforting about Zoro’s touch specifically. It’s not like he hasn’t been held before, this crew has always been touchy-feely. He has experienced a plethora of casual touches, Luffy usually hangs off his shoulders whenever he makes him his daily snack, Chopper will sometimes fall asleep on his lap, and Robin or Nami will occasionally give him a quick side hug or ruffle his hair in thanks. His point is, he’s touched people before, it happens all the time, so why are Zoro’s touches affecting him so much? It’s to the point where he can’t sleep at all without feeling Zoro’s warmth at some point during the day. He’s become desperate now, intentionally seeking out fights to get closer to the man. If he’s lucky, Zoro will put him in a chokehold, that’s the closest he’s gotten to replicating the feeling ever since their initial embrace, he doesn’t count the other night because he was too drunk to really enjoy it.
He considered asking for Robin’s opinion on the matter, but he doesn’t think he can open up to her about something he can’t even articulate, he’s not even sure what he would say . Like ‘Oh hey Robin, would you happen to know anything about why I can’t sleep without the Marimo touching me in some way, shape, or form?’
Ugh, no he can’t say that, it sounds so weird . Plus he doesn’t want to misconstrue anything. As much as he may have some perverted tendencies, this isn’t about sex or sexual desire- although the Mosshead sure isn’t bad on the eyes (woah what the fuck was that? Okay he’s just gonna repress this for the foreseeable future)- this is purely about the comfort of touch, and Sanji just doesn’t know how to say that, much less make it sound normal.
After his fifth night of restless tossing and turning, he decides to talk to Chopper about it.
“I’m what?”
“Touch starved.”
“ What? ”
Chopper sighs, “I said-”
“No, no I’m perfectly aware of what you said , but what do you mean ?”
Chopper looks him in the eyes for a moment, as if discerning how best to explain this to Sanji without freaking him out.
“It’s exactly what it sounds like Sanji. Touch starvation is what happens when someone doesn't get enough physical contact with others, or any at all, for a long time.”
Sanji opens his mouth, then promptly closes it again. Chopper waits patiently in his seat until Sanji’s brain starts working again.
Finally, after a solid thirty seconds of silence he speaks, “I’m not touch starved.”
“Yes you are-”
“How do you know that?”
Chopper raises a tiny eyebrow, “Didn’t you just spend thirty minutes explaining to me how you just can’t get enough of Zoro’s-”
“Okay, okay, okay, I get it Chopper-”
“Everything you’ve just described to me aligns with what I know about it. It’s especially common for people who have been through a lot of trauma-”
“Okay yeah I get that but-,” He sighs, “I’m sorry Chopper, I don’t mean to be so short with you, I’m just- confused. I get plenty of…,” He waves his hand around trying and failing to put the words together, “touch.”
Chopper swings around in his chair, “It’s okay Sanji, I know this must be stressful for you. And, being touch starved doesn’t necessarily mean you don’t get any at all. It could just mean you’ve been experiencing a lack of substantial touch. Not just a pat on the shoulder or something.”
“Substantial?”
“When’s the last time you’ve been hugged? And not just briefly, when’s the last time you’ve really been hugged ?”
The only time Sanji could think of is when Zoro hugged him in the galley that one time and he broke down crying like a little baby, but he wasn’t going to admit that to Chopper. The last thing he wants is to embarrass himself like that again.
His thoughtful silence was enough proof for Chopper. He turned around and scribbled something on a piece of paper before facing Sanji once again to hand it to him, “Okay, I prescribe you with ‘get plenty of hugs’!”
Sanji looks down at the paper with those exact instructions and smiles warmly at the little reindeer, he chuckles, “Thanks Chop, I appreciate it.”
Chopper nods and as Sanji gets up to leave he asks him one last thing, “Hey Sanji?”
Sanji, hand on the doorknob, turns curious eyes towards Chopper.
“Can I give you a hug?”
Sanji laughs and opens his arms, intercepting an excited and cuddly chopper. Sanji smiles into Chopper’s fur, it’s warm.
Although Sanji can now put a name to his peculiar ailment, it’s another thing entirely to go about fixing the issue. He’s not even sure how to broach the topic with the others, much less the swordsman. He’s not even sure if he should tell anyone else, the only person who seems to have any sort of calming effect on him is Zoro. Which is something he can admit to himself in his head yeah, but it’s a different challenge actually getting himself to say it out loud to someone who isn’t his doctor.
Sanji would resign himself to just going about his day and never bring up the subject ever again, but he doesn’t think he can go another night without sleep. He clenches the prescription paper in his pocket, using his other hand to take yet another drag of his cigarette. He takes a contemplative look down at it, he needs to slow down, he’s almost out.
What could he do to solve his little problem without actually admitting what his problem is? And as he was preparing the ingredients for lunch, that’s when the idea hit him. After finishing up, he paced around the kitchen a few times, trying to build up the courage to put his plan into action.
The opportunity came the next morning. Zoro entered the galley, presumably to guzzle some sake after a long night of his watch shift. Sanji looked at the man out of the corner of his eye, nervously fiddling with the different bags of ground coffee in the cupboard. He knew he was stalling, he needed to act fast or Zoro would leave and he would miss his window of opportunity.
“Hey Zoro.”
“Yeah?”
“Come help me with something really quick.”
Zoro raised an eyebrow but ultimately complied.
Zoro goes to stand next to him at the kitchen counter.
“What is it?” He asks.
Sanji takes a shuddery breath, “Can you grab the vegetable oil? I’m busy with this, it’s in that cabinet right there.” He points to the cabinet directly above his head.
The swordsman doesn’t say anything, he just huffs and shifts to be directly behind Sanji, he leans over and reaches for the cupboard. Sanji holds his breath, he can feel the hard plane of Zoro’s chest press flush against his back as he rummages through the cabinet. He tries to control the heat rising to his cheeks. This is what he wanted, this closeness, this proximity, but- for some reason, it’s not the same, it’s not enough- he needs something more .
And far too soon, the moment is over. Zoro places the jug of oil on the counter and murmurs a “There you go,” before stalking away to take a nap on the galley’s couch.
Sanji internally curses as he realizes that he’ll need to try something else, otherwise his brain will never shut up.
He tries again a few days later to not raise any suspicion in the Mosshead’s head.
He was getting ready for bed, it was just him and Zoro in the bunk room, he tried not to think about it too hard.
He makes a show of cradling his lower back with his hand and letting out a small hiss. This does not go unnoticed by the only other occupant in the room.
“You good, cook?”
Sanji nods, “Yeah, my back’s just a little sore, probably from standing all day..”
Zoro grunts in acknowledgement, “You should see Chopper.”
“Nah, it’s not that serious.”
Zoro scoffs, “Must be, if you’re yapping about it.”
Sanji tries not to let that irritate him, he needs to stay focused on the game plan.
“Cut it out, would you? You know what, if you’re so eager to shut me up, why don’t you help me?”
“With what?”
“Come crack my back for me, I feel like my spine needs it.”
Zoro rolls his eyes before standing up to presumably adhere to Sanji’s request. Holy shit, he didn’t think that it would actually work.
Sanji swallows nervously as Zoro comes to stand in front of him. Before he can register it, the swordsman’s arms are wrapping around his lower back and he lifts him in the air as he leans backwards and squeezes Sanji hard enough for a couple of his vertebrae to crack satisfyingly. Sanji squeaks in surprise and Zoro chuckles as he sets him back down.
He has an amused smile on his face, the bastard, “Did that help?”
Sanji clears his throat, trying to recover from the embarrassment, his voice comes out rough and shaky anyways, “Um, yeah, that helped- Thanks.”
Zoro stalked back to collapse lazily in his bunk, “Anytime Cook.”
Sanji slept better than usual that night, but when he woke up still feeling sluggish and annoyed, he realized that it still wasn’t enough. God, he doesn’t know if he can take any more of this, he feels shameful for it, like he’s committing some egregious sin for needing physical intimacy, especially with another man. But… he just couldn’t help himself.
In for a penny, in for a pound, he supposes.
The next time he tries is when they’ve stopped at a new island, it’s meant to be a short detour really, a place the crew can restock and potentially catch a break before heading into their next adventure.
He and Zoro somehow ended up wandering around the city after buying groceries earlier in the day. Sanji wasn’t sure why the swordsman decided to stick around, but he was glad for it, it means he can execute his next genius plan.
As they continue walking down the avenue filled with shops, he tries to think of a way to make what he’s about to do next at least semi convincing. It’s only when they come across a boardwalk that the idea hits him.
He notices that some of the planks that make up the dock are kind of loose, glances at an especially promising one before he purposely steps down with a little too much force and his foot goes straight through the floor.
He realizes that he may not have fully thought things through as he prepares for his face to meet the floor, he’s definitely going to have splinters after this stunt.
He squeezes his eyes shut, but strangely, the impact never comes. Instead, he feels a strong arm supporting his front, he looks up only to see Zoro, face mere inches away, steely eye narrowed in concern.
“Pay better attention next time, Cook.”
Sanji breathes out in anticipation, “Yeah, yeah, will do-”
He clings onto Zoro’s shoulder and hoists himself up and out of the hole he’s made in the boardwalk. His ankle twinges slightly in pain, but it’s not bad enough that he can’t walk. Zoro doesn’t know that though.
He leans on his “good” leg, one hand still attached to Zoro’s shoulder.
Zoro notices his limp and firmly grasps Sanji’s forearms as he guides him a little ways away from the unstable part of the dock.
He looks mad for some reason as he directs a glare at the broken boards, “Are you hurt?”
Sanji looks away and flushes, “No- No I’m fine-”
“Don’t lie-”
“Yeah, yeah I’m a little hurt.”
Zoro raises an eyebrow, obviously not expecting the blonde to acquiesce so quickly.
He smiles, Sanji doesn’t see, his head is still turned away in an attempt to reign himself in.
“A little or a lot?”
Sanji finally looks over at him, “A lot.”
“Can you walk?”
The cook stumbles over an answer, “Well- um, I-”
Zoro doesn’t bother to let him finish the sentence, the asshole. He swiftly picks Sanji up by wrapping a bulky arm underneath his knees. Sanji immediately wraps his arms around the swordsman’s neck and tries to pretend he’s upset with his current predicament. He fails spectacularly the moment he buries his face in Zoro’s chest and listens to the steady pulse of the Mosshead’s heart.
Zoro takes him back to the Sunny, he gently sets him down on the infirmary’s cot and leaves once Chopper prances in.
Sanji feels like melted ice cream. Chopper scans his eyes back and forth between his “injured” ankle and the infirmary door Zoro just left through. The little reindeer gives him a look that screams “Really?”, and all Sanji can retort with is a quiet “Shut up...”
The last time he tries to hide behind a weak excuse is a couple days after the whole ankle fiasco. He doesn’t even get the chance to carry out his plan, because as soon as opens his mouth to ask, “Can you-?” Zoro cuts him off by enveloping his body in a tight embrace.
“You know, if you need a hug you can just ask for one.”
Sanji sputters, “Wha- I don’t, I’m not-,” he sighs in defeat and buries his face in Zoro’s shoulder, he finishes with a muffled, “How did you know…?”
Zoro laughs lightly, the exhale blowing a few light strands of Sanji's hair askew, “It wasn’t like you were being subtle. Plus, Chopper told me that you’re touch starved.”
Sanji groans in embarrassment, “Whatever happened to doctor-patient confidentiality…”
“The moment you started making things unnecessarily hard for yourself.”
The blonde brings his hands up to clutch at Zoro’s shirt and hums as Zoro rubs soothing circles onto his back.
“Does the whole crew know?”
“Nah, the only reason I know is because I asked Chopper about it, but they can definitely tell that something’s off with you, they’re worried, we all are.”
Sanji sighs softly, voice tinged with drowsiness, “I’ll apologize later…”
Zoro smiles into Sanji’s hair, “You better, now come on, let’s go lay down.”
Sanji doesn’t resist as Zoro leads him to the bunks, if the crew sees them pass by hand in hand, no one says anything.
He starts asking Zoro directly after that. It’s only a few times at first but it increases in frequency as he realizes that Zoro isn’t going to make fun of him or take the hugs away. He’s also started opening himself up in general. He initiates more contact between himself and the rest of the crew, letting them get close and letting them stay close. It’s enlightening.
Eventually, he and Zoro occasionally start sleeping in the same bunk after he tells him that it’s been hard to sleep without his daily dose of close contact.
They’ve progressively been getting closer since they’ve begun this new form of intimacy. It’s on one of these nights that Sanji brings up something that’s been haunting the back of his mind for a while.
“Zoro… what’s wrong with me?”
A moment of silence, the other man shifts to look at Sanji, who’s lying comfortably cuddled on top of Zoro’s chest, then, “Why do you think there’s something wrong with you?”
Sanji sighs. He’s gotten more comfortable in this new layer of their friendship, so much so that now he’s okay with sometimes divulging the inner workings of his mind, “Sometimes, it feels like no matter how hard I try, I can’t be happy. Everything I’ve ever wanted is right in front of me, and yet, I can’t enjoy it. I finally have a family, people who care about me, shouldn’t that be enough?,” he pauses, deciding on how to articulate his next thought, “This might be a stupid analogy but, I’m not sure how else to describe it. You know how… whenever Luffy accidentally falls into the sea, you have to jump in and fish him out, but- you don’t have time to take your clothes off, so your clothes end up sticking to your body and- and you feel heavy , like you’re dragging unnecessary weight with you. I feel like that all the time.”
“You're right, that is a stupid analogy.”
Sanji lightly slaps his chest in offense, “Hey, I’m trying to open up here-”
“Why don’t you just take them off?”
“Huh?”
Zoro tilts his head towards him, “The clothes. If they’re weighing you down, just take them off.”
“It’s not that simple…”
“Why can’t it be?”
“Because- I can’t just- It’s not something I can do on my own, I’ve never been able to.” It feels bad to admit that, like he’s admitting to being weak, like he knows deep down that he’s never been capable of thriving on his own, like he never will.
“So then I’ll take them off for you.”
Sanji jolts, his cheeks burn, “What?!”
Zoro turns on his side to face him directly, gently moving Sanji off of him to look him in the eyes, “If you can’t do it yourself, I’ll take off your clothes for you then.”
Did it get hotter in the room? “We’re still talking in metaphors right?”
Zoro sighs, not unkindly, “Look Cook, use whatever metaphor you want, all I’m saying is: don’t think this is something you have to do by yourself. You have my back, I have yours, just like in the battlefield. I’ll carry what you can’t, I know you’d do the same for me.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean why?” Zoro asks incredulously.
“Why… are you being so… gentle, with me? If it’s out of pity then I have no use for it-”
“Sanji,” That got his attention, the blonde meets his gaze, “I could ask you the same question. Why not someone else on the crew? Why me? I know it’s not pity. I don’t pity you either, you should know by now that that’s not how we operate.”
Sanji holds his breath, he doesn’t know how to say what he needs to, he tries anyways.
“I think. I think it’s because I feel safe with you. Not that I don’t with any of the others but with you it’s just…”
“Different?”
“Yeah, it’s different, you… I know that you have my back, completely, I know that no matter what you’ll do your best to protect not just the crew but- me too. I’ve never had that before.”
“Protection?”
“Trust.”
Zoro hums in thought as he tucks a strand of hair behind Sanji’s ear. A look in his eye that could only convey one thing, it was undeniable, it was love.
Sanji let out a shuddering breath when Zoro inevitably leans in closer, “Why are you doing this?”
Zoro closes his eye and rests his forehead gently against Sanji’s. He feels like he’s about to burst, his eyes sting from unshed tears. Zoro shifted and placed a soft kiss on Sanji’s forehead, “Because I want to.”
Silent tears started running down the sharp planes of the blonde’s face. He whispers, as if afraid to hear the answer to his next question, but he can’t help but ask, “Why do you want to?”
Zoro presses a kiss to his cheek, right over the tear tracks, then another, and another.
He nuzzles their noses together, Sanji feels like he’s been set alight, the soft brushing of their skin a paralyzing balm to his nerves.
Zoro brings a weathered hand up to Sanji’s face and caresses the outline of his jaw, “Because I love you.”
“Just like that?” Sanji asks.
“Just like that.” Zoro recites.
Sanji leans in, whispers three sacred words into Zoro’s ear, and doesn’t try to tamp down the flame that blazes in his heart when their lips connect.
The pair let the sea breeze brush past them. They stay there, leaning against the railing, unlit cigarette laying forgotten on the Sunny’s deck. The sky is a light gray, it might rain, but neither of them care.
This time, when he looks down at the water, it paints a beautiful reflection of the two of them, side by side, connected in a way he would’ve never imagined. His eyes are drawn back to the swordsman, the sparse rays of sun that break through the clouds light up the man’s profile, he’s reminded of how life can be beautiful. Lately it’s been catching him off guard. He’ll be in the middle of restocking the fridge, fishing with Luffy, talking to Robin, and it’ll hit him: love. He lets the feeling consume him.
It’s easy, in a way that it never was before. For once in his life, he finally feels okay. He lets himself be loved, lets it wash over him in waves, and reminds himself that it’ll always come back, even when the tide is low.
He’s never believed in God, or any kind of deity. But, he thinks he believes in this, in his crew, and the love they have for him.
END.