Chapter Text
CHAPTER I:
⁝ Fake it 'til you feel it
⁃ (1) ⁃
A gentle warmth hung in the kitchen air, rich with the toasted scent of freshly cooked rice. The smoky, lightly salted aroma of salmon promised a breakfast crafted with care down to the last detail.
Sanji shaped the onigiri calmly, forming perfect triangles with the ease of habit. The morning had a quiet, comforting stillness—just the kind of peace one hopes to recharge on a day off before another week of work.
For better or worse, that silence wouldn’t last much longer.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”
There it was. The signal.
Sanji smirked without even glancing up. His roommate was awake.
The shout that broke the silence didn’t bother him—if anything, it brought a smug smile to his lips. Soon enough, Zoro’s voice blended with rushed footsteps and grumbling that Sanji didn’t bother trying to make out.
The bedroom door slammed open, and from the kitchen, Sanji watched as his roommate dashed across the living room in nothing but boxers —or as Zoro stubbornly called them, “pajamas”— digging around frantically for something.
He grabbed a backpack he’d left on the floor and disappeared back into his room, but Sanji couldn’t resist the opening.
“That’s what you get for ignoring me when I told you to get up.”
“UGH, SHUT UP, I KNOW!”
Sanji placed one of the onigiri on a plate, set it on the bar, and went right back to the next one.
“Doesn’t seem like you’ve learned your lesson.”
Zoro reemerged, now wearing a white T-shirt and an unbuttoned shirt over it. He was awkwardly trying to get into his pants while replying to a text, putting on a whole clumsy show that Sanji didn’t get to see often—but always looked forward to, because he knew what came next.
Sure enough, Zoro missed a step, lost his balance, and went down with a spectacular crash.
Sanji peeked over from the kitchen and saw him still on the floor, scrambling to finish pulling his pants on. He couldn’t hold back a laugh, one loud enough to turn Zoro’s cheeks pink.
“HAHAHAHA! I wish I’d recorded that!”
“If you’re not gonna help, stop running your damn mouth!”
“I’m perfectly capable of doing both.”
Zoro looked annoyed, but Sanji knew he was just trying to salvage whatever dignity he had left—though in Sanji’s opinion, that ship had sailed a long time ago.
The swordsman stood, slipped on his shoes, and started looking for his jacket.
A sly grin crept onto Sanji’s face, though his hands never stopped forming the rice balls.
Once Zoro was ready, he headed to the kitchen, grabbed one of the finished onigiri, and shoved it straight into his mouth. With his free hand, he snatched another as he walked toward his motorcycle keys.
“Hey!”
Sanji called out, making Zoro pause at the door and glance back.
“Whuh!?”
Zoro replied with his mouth full, chewing and swallowing noisily.
Sanji considered scolding him for his lack of manners, but given how rushed he was, he let it slide.
“You forgot something.” He held up a small lunch bag “I’m not letting you disrespect my food just because you’re late for work.”
Zoro sighed and took another bite of the second onigiri.
“Yeah, yeah... whatever.” He muttered mid-chew.
Sanji tucked the lunch bag into Zoro’s backpack. The brief pause gave the green-haired man a chance to rearrange the things he was on the verge of dropping. Then Sanji handed him a container with the other two onigiri. He even took the half-eaten one from Zoro’s hand and packed it too.
Zoro blinked, a bit surprised, but didn’t say anything. He just nodded—a typical Zoro kind of thank you.
Sanji watched him leave, shaking his head with a smirk playing on his lips. A smirk Zoro wouldn’t see.
Zoro was already halfway down the stairs when Sanji raised his voice again:
“Don’t get lost!” He cupped a hand around his mouth to help project “Remember, you need to take Dawn Street! Trust the GPS! No shortcuts!”
“FOR GOD’S SAKE, CURLY, I ONLY ASKED YOU FOR A RIDE ONE TIME!”
“Yeah, ‘cause Nami was busy. She already told me it takes you forever to learn new routes.”
Zoro’s frustrated yell echoed up the stairwell before fading into silence. Sanji considered that a victory. He closed the door calmly.
The apartment fell quiet. Sanji stood still for a moment.
The noise of the morning had gone out with Zoro.
When he’d first moved into the apartment, living with Roronoa Zoro had been a nightmare. If it hadn’t been for the affordable rent, the quality of the place, and the location, Sanji wouldn’t have lasted a week.
Sure, things hadn’t exactly turned into a bed of roses since then, but he’d managed to find a more tolerable rhythm. They still argued—especially when Zoro claimed that one shower a week was enough for a guy over six feet tall who trained for two hours a day and had a physically demanding job.
Even so, by now it felt like teasing each other had become their mutual sport of choice. And once a month, Sanji had the pleasure of mocking the mosshead with zero retaliation—on the one day Zoro was running late for work.
Sanji returned to the kitchen to keep cleaning.
Even though it had unofficially become his special “Zoro-bothering day,” it hadn’t always been like that.
He still remembered the first time something like this had happened—around their first month living together. He’d been reading in the living room when he noticed it was getting late… and Zoro still hadn’t come home. He tried calling, but got no answer. By the time it was nearly dawn, worry had begun to creep in. He started imagining the worst.
Maybe something had happened.
Maybe he had found him. Maybe he’d done something to Zoro.
He barely slept, mind spinning with a thousand scenarios. Then, sometime around four a.m., he heard noise. He got up, went to check… and there was Zoro. Barely awake, more sleep than man, but safe.
To this day, Sanji still doesn’t know what happened that night.
Truth be told, they’d never asked each other many personal questions.
And for him, that was probably for the best.
He paused mid-cleaning, lost in thought.
It was, right?
He shook his head, pushing the thought away. Kept tidying, putting things back in place, picking up whatever was lying around the apartment. Zoro’s bedroom door had been left open, so Sanji decided to go ahead and grab the dirty laundry rather than wait for him to come back.
The room wasn’t cluttered with much—some katanas mounted on the wall, a wardrobe, a few weights, and a bed. Zoro was a simple man, though often messy. Not dirty—when he did clean, he actually did a good job—but he had a habit of letting things pile up for a couple of days first.
Judging by how late he’d gotten in last night, this was clearly one of those times. Sanji pushed back the urge to scold him and focused on gathering clothes from the floor.
He had the day off from the restaurant, and planned to use it for cleaning... and maybe some rest afterward. He was tossing dirty clothes into the laundry basket when something caught his eye.
He stepped closer, setting the basket on the bed. As he bent down and picked up a white short-sleeved shirt, he noticed faint bloodstains.
That… was odd.
He didn’t even have time to think it through properly—there was a knock at the apartment door. Sanji dropped the shirt into the basket and went to open it.
The moment he saw who it was, a wave of mixed emotions hit him.
Joy. Concern. Confusion.
He tried to smile, but the moment his gaze met his sister’s, it slowly faded.
“Reiju…”
He muttered her name. The blonde, her pink-streaked hair falling over her shoulders, smiled at him softly. But even without saying a word, Sanji knew her presence wasn’t entirely welcome. Not because of her, but because of what she represented.
“Hey, little brother... mind if I come in?”
“Oh— yeah, of course.”
Like snapping out of a daze, he stepped aside to let her in.
“Come on in. Can I get you anything? Something to drink? A snack?”
“Coffee’s fine, thanks.”
“Sure. Make yourself at home. How do you take it?”
“Black is fine.”
The living room was spotless. Reiju sat on the couch and watched as Sanji moved around the kitchen, setting up the coffee maker. Her eyes scanned the apartment slowly.
To her, the place probably felt small. But she still smiled, knowing this was his space. A place where he could be himself. Still… there was something in her gaze. Like she was looking for something specific. Her eyes paused on the key holder.
One set was missing.
“Your roommate not home?”
“Zoro? Nah, he left for work a while ago.”
“Oh... I see.”
Sanji frowned slightly.
Was it just his imagination, or did she actually seem… disappointed? He didn’t get it. Why would Reiju care if Zoro was there or not? He tried to brush it off. It was just Reiju, after all, but the expression stuck with him.
And even though he loved his sister—her presence had always brought him comfort as a child—he couldn’t deny that a tension was starting to settle in.
Like his body knew something he wasn’t ready to admit. He returned with a tray holding coffee, a glass of water, and a few snacks, even though she hadn’t asked for any.
Reiju offered him a warm smile, and soon they were caught up in seemingly casual conversation.
How have you been?
What’s new?
Learned any good recipes lately?
They talked like they were trying to catch up on everything they’d missed over the years. And for a moment, Sanji almost believed it.
But deep down, he knew: if Reiju really just wanted to visit, she would’ve done so before. Their contact usually came in scattered texts, the occasional holiday greeting. This wasn’t normal. Not like this. And while her warmth was comforting—God, how he missed that—he also remembered why it didn’t happen more often.
Tension crept in slowly.
His neck ached. His jaw had been clenched for who knows how long. And when it came time for him to speak, he realized how stiff his whole body felt. He couldn’t keep pretending.
Something was wrong.
“Reiju...” He began, unsure how to phrase it without sounding rude, “It’s not that I’m not happy to see you, but… why are you here? Did something happen?”
She fell silent for a few seconds. Then let out a long sigh, her shoulders easing. She was tense too. She set her coffee cup back on the tray and seemed to carefully weigh her words.
“To be honest… yes. Actually…”
Sanji saw her lips move.He knew she was talking.
But everything around him fell silent.
He couldn’t hear her. He couldn’t process.
The moment that name left her lips, his senses shut down.
As if his body was trying to protect him, everything wrapped itself in a numbing haze.
His sister had come to warn him about Judge.
That bastard.
The one he thought he’d finally gotten away from. The bastard who’d made his childhood a living hell…
Reiju kept talking.
But Sanji… wasn’t listening anymore.
Her lips were moving, her voice filled the air—but he couldn’t understand a word. Like everything was underwater. Like his brain refused to process what he knew was coming.
“What…?”
The word slipped out in a whisper as he finally managed to snap out of it.
“Father wants to see you.”
Sanji nearly stood up, ready to shout a firm no, but Reiju wasn’t done.
“You… and your partner.”
That part threw him completely. He laughed. He wasn’t even sure why.
Maybe it was nerves. Maybe confusion. Maybe some desperate reflex to release the pressure coiling through his body.
Maybe it was all of that at once.
“Haha… but Reiju, I don’t—”
“You don’t have a partner. I know.”
“Then why…?”
“Because I told him you did.”
Sanji blinked.
Once. Twice.
“What?”
Reiju let out a slow breath and looked away. She didn’t seem particularly proud of what she was about to say.
“A few months ago, he tried to arrange a marriage for you. With the daughter of one of his business associates.”
She looked up and met his eyes.
“I didn’t want him dragging you into one of his schemes again. So… I lied. I told him you were seeing someone.”
She reached out and gently took his hands, wordlessly asking for forgiveness. Sanji didn’t pull away.
But his gaze was distant—trying to piece everything together.
“He tried to arrange a marriage? Why?” His voice rose, full of disbelief. “I thought he’d finally forgotten about me! He hasn’t seen me in almost ten years—”
“I’m not sure,” Reiju murmured. “I think… he wants you to come back.”
“Come back? So he can use me again?”
The sadness in her eyes was all the answer he needed. Frustrated, Sanji let go of her hands and buried his face in his own.
“I don’t care if he’s calling. I’m not going.” He stood up abruptly.
Reiju rose as well, reaching for his arm to make him sit back down.
“You have to go.”
“Why the hell should I!?”
“Because... it’s the only way he’ll leave you alone for good.”
“He already thinks I ran off! I don’t even have a partner, Reiju! Why would that work now?”
“Because... he thinks you’re with a guy.”
Sanji froze.
“What?”
“I told him you already live with your partner…”
“Oh no. No. Reiju, please tell me you didn’t—” She nodded. “Zoro? You told him I’m dating Zoro?!”
“He was the only one I had enough information on to make it believable. And… I had a convincing photo.”
“Photo convin—?” He stopped himself. He did not want to know what she meant by that. “You couldn’t have just said I was dating one of my friends? Nami, or even Robin—anyone?!”
“That wouldn’t have worked. And come on… you really wanted to drag them into something with Judge?”
“No… of course not…” Sanji ran a hand down his face. “But not him either.”
Reiju placed a hand on his knee, gently.
“It’s going to be okay…”
“For god’s sake, Reiju. We’re talking about Judge.”
“Yeah. And we’re also talking about Zoro.”
“…”
“I know this isn’t ideal. But if Judge believes it, you can bet he’ll back off. He won’t want to see you again.”
“Great. Another reason to stay the family’s worthless trash. Not just useless—now gay, too.”
He buried his face in both hands. Reiju wrapped her arms around him, and even though he was taller than her, Sanji didn’t resist. He leaned into her embrace like he used to as a kid. Like when he needed someone to hold him for a while.
“You know,” she whispered, “even if you were gay, it wouldn’t matter to the people who actually care about you. And Judge isn’t one of them.”
Sanji didn’t reply right away. When he did, his voice came low, worn:
“Why do you stay with him, Reiju?”
“I…” She let out a deep breath, shrugging in that way that said more than words ever could. “I don’t know.”
They stayed like that. Reiju held him as she quietly shared the details she knew—so the call that was coming wouldn’t catch him off guard.
.
.
.
After Reiju left, Sanji felt the exhaustion hit him all at once—like a wave he’d been holding back for years.
He brought a hand to his head. Too many thoughts. All tangled, all heavy. He couldn’t make sense of them… he could only feel them pressing down on him.
“Maybe… a little nap will help.”
He didn’t bother with the dishes still sitting in the living room. With slow, heavy steps, he made his way to his room, set the alarm… and let himself fall onto the bed.
The softness of the sheets and pillows offered instant comfort, as if his body recognized this corner of the world as the only safe place.
He was asleep in moments.
Whatever was left to deal with… He’d handle it after he woke up.
⁃ (2) ⁃
The sound of a door closing jolted him awake. He sat up, disoriented, heart still racing. Had he forgotten to lock the door?
Everything was dark.
He peeked out the window and confirmed what he suspected—it was already night. He got up quickly and stepped out of his room. The living room was completely silent... but different.
Nothing was out of place.
He went to check the dishes and froze. They were clean. Neatly stacked. Even the tray—spotless.
Had he dreamed it all?
He glanced toward the laundry room. The basket with his clothes was there. But not how he’d left it. Every piece was folded. Color-sorted.
He definitely hadn’t done that. He walked over to his roommate’s door. It was closed. He leaned in and listened. There was movement.
Zoro was back?
Had he really slept through the alarm?
How long had he been out?
He looked around again.
The living room. The kitchen. The basket.
But one question rose above the rest.
Zoro… had done all of that?
His stomach tightened. How the hell was he supposed to bring it up now?
He clenched his jaw, and not just because of the Judge thing. There was more.
What was coming next. What he was about to ask for. He’d tried to put it off. That’s why he’d laid down earlier.
But even that hadn’t gone his way.
With a quiet sigh, he stored his folded clothes and made his way to the green-haired man’s room. He stopped in front of the door, staring at the wood as if his fate were carved into it.
He lifted his hand... paused... and lowered it again.
His brows knit together, like the hesitation itself annoyed him.
Then, without thinking too much, he raised his hand and knocked gently.
“Zoro.”
His voice came out tighter than he’d meant.
He waited.
“What do you want?”
Sanji pushed the door open. Zoro was there with his headphones resting around his neck, sweat on his skin, wearing a sleeveless shirt. His usual look of annoyance had softened—for once. But it didn’t last long.
“My sister came to visit…”
“And?”
Sanji clenched his jaw.
He had no idea how to bring it up—and Zoro’s complete lack of tact wasn’t helping. Part of him wanted to just kick him and say, forget it. But he couldn’t afford that.
Not now.
He took a deep breath. Tried to sound direct.
“I need to… ask you for a favor,” he began, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall, eyes avoiding Zoro entirely. “And I know you’re gonna hate it, so let me finish before you say anything stupid.”
Zoro raised an eyebrow, unmoving. His face screamed What did you do this time?, but at least he stayed quiet.
He listens, Sanji thought. That’s something. He inhaled again. There was no soft way to say it.
“My father wants me to visit him… with my partner.”
Zoro laughed.
“Partner? Since when do you have a partner?” He smirked, setting the weights aside. “Why the hell do I need to be involved in that?”
“Because… my partner… is you.”
Zoro stared at him. Didn’t even blink.
His whole expression shifted.
“…What?”
Sanji wanted to disappear. He pulled out a cigarette and slipped it between his lips. No lighter. didn’t matter. He just needed something to bite down on.
“Reiju… told our father you were my partner.”
Zoro’s brow furrowed.
“Why? You’d rather be buried ten feet under than be paired with a guy.”
“Because…!” Sanji stopped, throat tight, a lump rising he couldn’t swallow. “Because that guy is… different.”
Silence.
Thick. Heavy.
Sanji couldn’t look up.
“It won’t be more than two days. Knowing him, probably just one.” He forced himself to meet Zoro’s eyes. “I need you to do this for me.”
Zoro began pacing, like a caged animal. He was really being dragged into this family mess? And Sanji couldn’t even give him the full story?
A bitter laugh escaped him.
“Right. You made it very clear there was never gonna be an ‘us’, and now you’re dragging me into your shit?”
Sanji said nothing. Zoro scowled.
He was ready to fight—ready for Sanji to snap, throw a punch, hurl a smartass insult.
But instead—
“You’re right. I’ll deal with it myself.”
His voice was low. Flat.
Before Zoro could say anything, he was gone. Didn’t even look back.
Zoro didn’t see his face.
Just heard his voice.
Empty. Defeated.
No arguing. No comeback.
He stood there, frozen in the middle of the room.
That wasn’t Sanji.
And even if he didn’t know exactly what was going on, he felt it in his gut— Something was wrong.
⁃ (3) ⁃
Zoro tried to put it out of his mind.
But he couldn’t.
He kept staring at the ceiling, going over it all in his head. Something felt… off. Out of place. Even before Sanji had talked to him, something had already set off alarm bells.
He remembered walking in and seeing the dirty dishes in the living room.
Not just unusual. Suspicious.
He figured there must’ve been some kind of emergency. Sanji never left the place messy—especially not the kitchen.
It was the same kitchen they’d argued about when they first moved in—how the blond had claimed it like sacred ground. Since then, keeping it in order had been practically a religion for him.
There was no way Sanji had been home and just left things like that. That’s what Zoro thought… right before he heard the alarm coming from his room.
He assumed the idiot had just forgotten his phone, so he went to check. The door was ajar.
And there he was.
Sanji.
Asleep.
Buried under the blankets, completely unaware of the noise.
Zoro stepped in a little further. The alarm had already been snoozed several times.
Was he really that tired?
Zoro silenced it and let him sleep. He handled the cleaning himself.
From that moment, he knew—something was off. He glanced at the clock beside his bed.
Almost midnight.
The apartment was completely silent. Normally, he liked these quiet stretches.
But not tonight.
Not with this kind of silence. He sighed and got up, heading to the kitchen for some water, but as he passed the living room, he saw a light on.
Sanji was on the phone.
“I told you we can’t go…”
It wasn’t the words that caught his attention. It was how he said them.
Sanji was usually firm with his boundaries. When he said no, it meant no.
But now…
He sounded like he was begging.
Zoro stopped, just a few steps away, staying out of sight. He wasn’t spying, he told himself.
He just… wanted to gather some context before jumping to conclusions. That’s all.
“I know you already paid, but… Judge, he has work, what do you expect me to do?! No… NO!”
It didn’t sound like a conversation.
“I can go alone if—Would you just let me talk?!”
It sounded like someone desperately trying to be heard.
Sanji’s voice kept wavering. He’d regain it for a second, then lose it again. It wasn’t him.
Not the real him.
Zoro watched from the shadows.
Sanji ran a hand through his hair, pulling at it slightly. Curled up on the couch, like he was trying to make himself smaller—even though no one was really watching.
Seeing him like that…
Seeing Sanji like that…
Something twisted inside him. A sharp, dry fury—lodged deep in his chest. He couldn’t take it anymore.
He stepped forward.
Sanji jumped, startled.
“Zoro?”
He looked up, confused. But Zoro didn’t answer. He grabbed the phone right out of Sanji’s hand before he could stop him.
“If it’s that important, we’ll go. Tell Reiju to send the details. It’s midnight, and we’ve got work tomorrow. Let us sleep.”
That was all he said.
Then he hung up and handed the phone back. Turned around and walked to the kitchen like nothing had happened.
“What the hell did you do, dumbass?! You don’t even know what we were talking about!”
“Wasn’t it about visiting your family?”
“Yeah, but—”
“I don’t need to know more.”
“But you don’t want to go, idiot! How could you say that?! What am I supposed to do now?!”
Zoro poured himself a glass of water with complete calm.
Took a sip.
“Go with me.”
“…What?”
The man set the glass down on the counter. Didn’t look at him.
“Look… I don’t like that you dragged me into this crap, but clearly it matters—especially if you’re willing to pretend you’re in a relationship with me. So I’ll do it.”
He turned toward him for just a second.
“Stop acting like a scared little kid.”
“I’m not—”
“Good night.”
Zoro walked off, calm and steady.
Sanji stood there, frozen, words caught in his throat.
He watched the green-haired idiot walk away, not even giving him the dignity of finishing the conversation.
And all he could do was shout a weak defense at his back, already out of earshot:
“I’M NOT ACTING LIKE A SCARED LITTLE KID”
.
.
.
Zoro heard a soft knock at the door.
“It’s open.”
That was all he said before the handle turned, slow footsteps followed… and the mattress dipped as someone else sat on the bed.
He didn’t move or say anything at first. But when no one spoke, he turned around.
“You just here to sit on my bed?”
“You make living together unbearable, you know that?”
“I should be the one saying that.”
He sat up with a bit of irritation—though, deep down, he was waiting to hear what Sanji would say.
“I…” Sanji sighed heavily, rubbing his face. “I realized I never actually apologized for what I said when I found out you were…”
He waved his hand in a vague circle, trying to find the right word.
“Gay?” Zoro offered, bluntly.
“Yeah. That…” Sanji looked down for a second, then met his eyes. “It was wrong. I was an idiot. I was… really misinformed back then. Way too much.”
There was shame in his voice. Not the loud kind, but the honest kind—the kind that’s hard to let out, even when you mean it.
“You’re terrible at apologizing, you know that?”
“You asshole! I’m trying to be civil here, damn it!”
He started kicking him. Instead of getting mad or fighting back, Zoro just laughed— which only made Sanji even angrier.
Without warning, Zoro grabbed both his ankles to stop him.
“We’re good.”
“…Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
He let go. No jokes. No smug remarks.
Sanji slowly lowered his feet to the floor, still processing that answer.
“By the way,” Zoro added, lying back down, “I’m not gay. I’m demi.”
Sanji blinked, genuinely confused.
“What’s the difference?”
“I’m not giving you a damn sexuality lecture at this hour, Curly.”
Zoro turned to settle into the mattress again, thinking that was the end of it. But Sanji didn’t move.
Several seconds passed in silence.
“If you wanna lie down, there’s room for two.”
“As if I’d ever want to share your stinky-ass bed.”
“Fine. Close the door on your way out.”
But the door never closed.
A few minutes later, Sanji lay down beside him.
Back to back. Not touching.
Silence returned. But neither of them was asleep— even if their eyes were closed.
“Zoro…”
“Mmmh…”
“Thanks.”
Zoro opened his eyes, thoughtful.
He didn’t answer right away. Just shifted a little— enough to close some of the distance between them. Not too much. Just enough to feel the blond’s warmth brush against his skin.
“Pft… just hope your family’s not a bunch of psychos.”
Sanji laughed.
For the first time all day.
And Zoro…
Zoro felt his whole body relax at that sound.
Sanji’s back finally touched his.
And neither of them said a word about it.