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It starts with Nami.
She doesn’t mean to eavesdrop (not that she’d feel bad about it if she did), but when she walks past the men's quarters one evening, she hears Sanji muttering something that makes her stop.
“You better not snore tonight, mosshead.”
“Shut up, cook.” Even she could tell there was no bite in his words. There’s a rustling sound, which can only be described as a fond scoff. And then, silence.
Nami raises an eyebrow. Sanji and Zoro never stop arguing unless someone physically separates them. The only reasonable conclusion?
They must be dating.
She tells Robin over drinks that night, and Robin smiles in that knowing way of hers. “That would make sense,” she says. “They do spend a lot of time together.”
Usopp overhears and gasps so loudly that Chopper falls off his chair.
“Wait, wait, wait… you mean to tell me that those two…” He gestures wildly. “Are together? Like, actually?”
“Doesn’t it make sense?” Nami smirks. “They’re always fighting, but they’re also always together. And Sanji’s always cooking extra for Zoro, even when he complains.”
Chopper nods slowly. “Sanji does patch Zoro up a lot after fights…”
“And Zoro’s always falling asleep in the kitchen when Sanji’s cooking,” Usopp adds.
Robin chuckles, sipping her wine. “It’s rather romantic, in its own way.”
Brook finds out the next day, and since he lacks both a filter and shame, he asks outright at dinner.
“So, Zoro-san, Sanji-san! How long have you two been lovers?”
Sanji chokes on his cigarette. Zoro, in the middle of eating, stops chewing.
“WHAT?!” they shout in unison.
Brook tilts his skull. “Oh? Is it a secret?”
“IT’S NOT A SECRET BECAUSE IT’S NOT TRUE, YOU DAMN BAG OF BONES!” Sanji, as dramatic and prissy as he is, shouts to Brook.
Brook laughs. “Ah, youth. So shy.”
Luffy beams. “Ohhh, yeah, I figured you two were dating!”
“You…WHAT?!” Sanji sputters. “You figured?”
Luffy shrugs. “Yeah. You sleep in the same room, train together, fight all the time but never actually hurt each other, and you share food.”
“That’s not… that doesn’t mean…” Sanji turns to Zoro, looking genuinely distressed. “Marimo, say something.”
Zoro frowns, scratching the back of his head. “I mean… we do all that.”
Sanji looks betrayed. “I’ll kick you!”
Franky punches the table in triumph. “See?! I knew it! Super lovebirds!”
“IT’S NOT TRUE!” Sanji roars. “You’re all insane!” His face was all red from the embarrassment.
Zoro shrugs again and returns to eating. He can feel his ears growing red, but he won't mention it. He will deal with the prissy cook later.
Sanji fumes about it for a week. He glares at Zoro more than usual. Zoro ignores him more than usual. But somehow, they still end up in the same space, like always.
Until one night when Sanji, annoyed beyond reason, corners Zoro outside on the deck.
“This is your fault,” he hisses.
Zoro looks up from his spot against the railing. “How is it my fault?”
“You didn’t deny it hard enough.”
Zoro raises an eyebrow. “Neither did you.”
Sanji sputters. “I did, actually.”
“Yeah?” Zoro leans in slightly. “Then why are we out here, talking about this like it’s some kind of problem?”
Sanji opens his mouth and shuts it. He doesn’t have an answer to that.
Zoro smirks. “Thought so.”
And that’s when Sanji realizes that this whole time it hasn’t been a problem. Maybe he was overreacting, not that he would admit it to Zoro. He sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re impossible.”
“You’re the one who followed me out here.” Zoro says unbothered, basking in the sight of Sanji being all bothered and with a faint blush dusting his face.
Sanji mutters something under his breath, and when he turns away, Zoro reaches out and grabs his wrist.
Sanji blinks, startled, and before he can say anything, Zoro gives a small firm tug, but unhurried, and pulls him down into his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“What the hell are you doing, marimo?” he asked in a hushed voice, glancing around to make sure no one was nearby.
Zoro just rests his chin on Sanji’s shoulder, voice low and calm. “Relax, pretty brows.”
“I am relaxed,” Sanji lies, his face and neck burning red. Zoro could see the blush at the nape of his neck, it's incredible how flushed the cook can get.
Zoro doesn’t say anything, just let the silence stretch, comfortable and solid like the warmth of his arms wrapped around Sanji’s waist.
They sit like that for a while, Zoro’s arms tight around Sanji’s waist, Sanji tense at first, then slowly, without even noticing, leaning back into the warmth behind him.
“…Tch,” Sanji mutters, glancing away. “This is your fault.”
Zoro chuckles, his breath brushing against Sanji’s neck. “Yeah, yeah, I take all the responsibility,” he says, kissing his lover’s neck and feeling how pliant he becomes in his hold.
The quiet lapping of waves fills the silence between them.
And inside, the crew continues to think they were right all along.
(Spoiler: They absolutely were.)