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Zoro was lucky. So fucking lucky.
"Cook."
"Hm," Sanji hummed, not bothering to look up from the stove.
"Curly.”
"Yeah," he continued stirring with focused precision.
Zoro with his chin resting in his palm, watched Sanji move around the kitchen with practiced ease. It had become a new routine—spending his afternoons here, drawn by the quiet rhythm of the cook at work. Breathing in the comforting scent of home cooking while the sun painted the galley in a warm glow.
Like right now, Sanji was humming a familiar melody, swaying his hips to match the slow rhythm. His hands moved with elegance, chopping, stirring, tasting. Every motion was deliberate, but never stiff. It made Zoro wonder if there was anything that didn't look graceful when Sanji did it.
Zoro thought he could watch the scene forever.
However, he was a greedy man, and just watching wasn't enough anymore.
Rising from his seat, Zoro moved with purpose across the room. The steady clatter of cooking masked his approach until he was right behind Sanji. Without warning, he wrapped his arms around that slender waist—one that fit so perfectly in his embrace.
"Shitty cook," Zoro murmured into warm skin, nuzzling into the crook of Sanji's neck.
Breathing in the faint scent of cigarettes and spices, Zoro let out a content sigh.
"What do you want?" Sanji asked, tone flat but without irritation.
"You," Zoro spoke into a lingering kiss.
“Too bad. All I’ve got for you is dinner.”
"Don't need it." Zoro’s lips brushed the curve of his shoulder.
Sanji tensed under his touch. “You better eat, or I’ll throw you out.”
"I didn't say I wasn't gonna eat." Zoro grinned, letting his teeth graze the skin.
"Stop it," Sanji protested but it held no bite.
"You stop it," Zoro gestured with a vague hand toward the stove, before pulling him closer. The warmth of Sanji against his chest grounded him, easing something restless in his bones.
Moving his lips to place a soft kiss behind his ear, Zoro purred, "Sanji."
It was with delight he felt the cook squirm against him.
“Idiot,” Sanji muttered, though his voice wavered.
With a sigh, Sanji reached over and turned off the stove. The soft click was followed by the scrape of a pot being moved aside. Then finally, Sanji wriggled around, meeting his gaze.
Zoro didn't care much about the different oceans of the world but—
Golden strands tickled the back of his hand as he brushed Sanji’s hair to the side, revealing two stupid, but frankly adorable, curly eyebrows and—
"All blue," Zoro breathed in awe.
Sanji blinked. “The fuck?”
"Think I just found it," Zoro said, a grin tugging at his lips.
"You're such a sap," Sanji slapped him on the shoulder, while the heat blooming across his cheeks betrayed him.
"And you love it,” Zoro teased.
Sanji opened his mouth—probably to protest—but Zoro captured his lips, swallowing any complaints.
Warm lips pressed against his own and Zoro couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. The faint taste of spices and smoke welcomed him. A taste so familiar yet Zoro savored it as if it was the rarest delicacy.
So yeah, Zoro thought himself to be very fucking lucky.