Chapter Text
Zoro’s breath catches in his chest when he spots the familiar, suit-clad figure waiting for him with arms crossed on the shore.
It’s been too long. Shortly after his confession to the cook, they arrived at Thriller Bark, where things got really messy, and he wasn’t even sure Sanji had forgiven him for his stunt with Kuma by the time they reached Sabaody, where everything went wrong. After that, their relationship got put on hold before it could even fully develop. For the first few weeks on Mihawk’s island, Zoro’s dreams were haunted by the memory of Sanji screaming his name, the last time he heard his voice before he was torn away from his crew.
It was Mihawk’s intensive training that kept him from going insane with worry and longing. There was no way for him to know what happened to Sanji, where he was, and how he was doing. During the worst days, he clung onto the memory of that beautiful, golden morning, the first and only one he spent with the cook in his arms. The promise of waking up that way every day was just as powerful a motivator for him as his goal of becoming the world’s greatest swordsman.
So of course he forgets to breathe when he sees him for the first time in what feels like forever, and he looks…
…he looks even better than he remembered.
His golden hair, slightly longer than before, is parted to the other side, bangs covering his right eye rather than his left, but the visible eye is still that brilliant blue he’s always loved. The suit he’s wearing is simple, yet somehow more stylish than the ones he used to wear before. His shoulders seem just a bit wider than before, his athletic physique accentuated by the perfect tailoring of the mustard-yellow shirt he wears tucked into high waisted, dark blue slacks that hug his toned legs just the right way. His suit jacket is flung over his shoulder, held there by his left hand, the right holding a cigarette to his lips.
He lowers said cigarette as Zoro approaches, blowing out a cloud of smoke, first from his mouth, then his nose, and Zoro’s heart leaps from stupidly attractive the sight of him is. Seeing him now is like taking a swig of water and just then realising how truly thirsty he is.
There’s a small smile on his lips, which slowly fades away, shifting his expression from coy to uncertain, fearful, even. Zoro’s own eyebrows draw together in concern, before he realises that this whole time, he’s been walking stone-faced towards Sanji without a single word or welcoming smile, completely on autopilot.
He’s learned during that short time he did have with the cook, before everything went tits up, that as freely and eagerly Sanji gives away his love, he has trouble receiving it. It’s as if he has little to no basis for comparison for what it’s like to be loved, truly and deeply. As if he believes it’s not possible for him to be loved. As busy as Zoro has been training and longing for Sanji, it hasn’t occurred to him how easily those two years might undo all his efforts of convincing Sanji of the opposite.
Sanji is only a few more steps away from him when he speaks, his voice music to Zoro’s ears, despite the bite to his words.
‘Forget how to speak in just a couple of years, Moss-’
Zoro puts a hand on each side of his face and pulls him into a deep, desperate kiss before he can even finish that sentence. Sanji tenses, surprised at first, but then melts into Zoro’s arms, sighing into the kiss as he hooks one arm around Zoro’s neck and grabs onto his coat with the other. They’re both a bit breathless when they pull away.
‘I’ve been waiting to do that for two years,’ Zoro breathes once he pulls away, pressing his forehead to Sanji’s.
‘Fuck, it’s like you can’t turn it off,’ Sanji huffs, turning his head away to hide his blush.
‘You love it,’ Zoro says, with a wide grin. He joins his hands at the back of Sanji’s waistline, leaning back slightly to study his face. It’s less boyish than before, but still the same, handsome face he dreams about. Sanji’s eyes find his own once again, and he frowns, placing a hand on the left side of Zoro’s cheek, right below his scar.
‘What happened to you?’ He asks, voice soft with concern. Zoro shrugs.
‘Training incident. Depth perception isn’t what it used to be, but I’m used to it. Don’t worry your pretty head about it, Cook, I’m alright. Besides…’ He pinches a lock of Sanji’s hair from his bangs between his fingers. ‘You’re the one always hiding your eye, you should know it’s not too much of a hindrance.’
Sanji huffs.
‘It’s not the same,’ he mutters. It’s true, despite the curtain of hair, Zoro regularly catches sight of his other eye between golden locks. His hair is more like a light veil than anything which makes the comparison pretty ridiculous. Zoro tucks his hair behind his ear, just like he did when he confessed to him two years ago.
‘I know,’ Zoro says. ‘You still shouldn’t worry about it.’
‘Ok,’ Sanji says. He looks pensive for a moment, before his lips curl into a mischievous smile. Zoro’s about to ask “why the smile” when Sanji tugs his head down so he can plant a kiss over his scarred eyelid, leaving the swordsman completely speechless.
‘Cook…’
‘There. I feel better about it now,’ Sanji says, and flashes a true, wide smile, the kind from Zoro’s dreams and precious memories. Words failing him, Zoro has no other choice but to press his lips to Sanji’s again, and once he does, he can’t stop there, cupping his face in his hands as he trails kisses up his cheek, his temple, his forehead, his nose, and repeats it on the other side of his face. Sanji’s putting up a merely symbolic fight against the assault of peppered affection, hands coming up to push Zoro away without any real strength. He says something as a protest, but the words are drowned out by his laughter, the sweetest sound Zoro has heard in two years.
‘Sanji,’ Zoro growls against the skin of the cook’s neck. ‘Fucking finally. Finally.’
‘Missed me, Mossy?’ Sanji asks, his voice still ringing with laughter.
Zoro just growls again, wrapping his arms even tighter against Sanji and taking a deep breath, memorising his scent - similar, but changed - before he pulls away.
‘Every day,’ he says, and steps back to give the cook some space. ‘We have crewmates to meet, but after that, we have some catching up to do.’
Sanji’s ears turn red. He clears his throat.
‘Uh, yeah,’ he says, and Zoro can’t help but think how adorable it is that he’s become so bashful so easily. ‘We really do. Have some catching up to… I missed you too, Mosshead.’
Zoro steps next to him and takes his hand in his.
‘Come on,’ he says. ‘Let’s find those idiots.’
‘We never got the chance to talk about… about what happened at Thriller Bark,’ Zoro says. The two of them are sitting on a couch in the aquarium, Zoro leaning back with his arm across the backrest, Sanji lying down, head on Zoro’s lap as the swordsman plays with his hair. Sanji’s expression sours when Zoro brings it up, but the issue has been weighing on his heart for the better part of the last two years, and he has to get some answers from the cook.
‘What happened was that you almost died,’ Sanji says. ‘I prefer not to think about it.’
‘Sanji, you were ready to die for me,’ Zoro whispers. ‘For the crew, too, yes, but the crew would have been saved whether or not it was you or me.’
Sanji sits up abruptly and turns to face Zoro on even ground. His lips are tense with barely contained fury.
‘But it’s alright when you do it?’
‘I knew I would survive,’ Zoro says, calmly. ‘You… you talked like you knew you wouldn’t.’
Sanji drops his gaze, but Zoro cups his face with his hand and gently coaxes him to look up again.
‘Maybe you knew,’ Sanji says, his voice strained, ‘that you’d survive, but I didn’t. I thought it’ll be the death of one of us, so… I just…’
Zoro leans forward, now cupping Sanji’s face with both hands.
‘You’re not expendable, Sanji,’ he says, sternly. ‘Look at me. Neither of us will die, not before Luffy becomes the King of the Pirates, not before we find the All Blue and I defeat Mihawk, and not before we…’
He trails off. There are so many things he wants to say at once, he has to take a deep breath and a moment to consider how to word it.
‘Not before we get to live,’ he says. ‘Us. Together.’
Sanji grabs one of Zoro’s hands and pulls it from his face to his lips, planting a soft kiss at the base of his thumb. He sighs, closing his eyes and leaning further into Zoro’s hands.
‘Can you promise?’ Sanji asks, his voice just above a whisper. ‘Not to die?’
Zoro feels as if his heart is full, overflowing, even. He wraps his arms around Sanji’s shoulders and pulls him close.
‘I won’t let anything take me away from you,’ he says. ‘Or you from me.’