Chapter Text
“I do not have a crush on the fucking cook.” Zoro insisted for the millionth time, and for the millionth time, Usopp looked no closer to believing him.
Something must have happened to bring this up again. It’d been months since his friends cooked up the insane idea that he and Sanji were destined to be together and in the same vein unanimously decided that Zoro was simply in denial. Why else wouldn’t they be together? Well, there were plenty of reasons. He didn’t know whether Sanji had been briefed on this collective delusion of theirs nor did he have any intention of broaching it with him in the event he hadn’t. In no universe did that conversation end well and Zoro happened to prefer his balls dropped as opposed to wedged up his ass by a steel-toed dress shoe, thanks very much.
“There is not a single person on this planet you talk about or stare at more,” Usopp said.
“So?”
“So, you don’t think that might mean something?” He pressed. “Something worth exploring?”
“He can explore my sword.” Zoro grumbled. He jostled the weapon bagged across his back for emphasis. “He’s annoying.”
They were on the way back from practice so he was equipped just in case the cook somehow heard him talking shit from the Baratie and dropped out of the sky to exact retribution. Stranger things were known to happen.
Actually, the first time they met was when Sanji had descended aerially from a fire escape to shatter the spine of some unfortunate purse thief. Zoro had stopped in his tracks, scared shitless by the sudden attack and halfway to whipping his sword out when someone else came running to the scene of what he to this day believed was a murder. Lo and behold, the stolen purse had belonged to one of his friends and current landlord, Nami. Sanji was looking for a place of his own, she’d introduced them and things snowballed from there. Now, they lived out of each other’s pockets and Zoro had no interest in revisiting a time when that hadn’t been the case.
That didn’t mean he was carrying a torch for the guy, though.
As for why Usopp was here dropping verbal bombs on him after practice despite having no interest in kendo, Zoro’s car had broken down a few weeks ago and since Kidd was out of town, he was stuck relying on public transportation and friendly lifts for the time being. He would have walked if the idea hadn’t been vetoed immediately.
Consequently, the cook would usually pick him up given that they shared an apartment and it just made sense, but he was working a double shift at the Baratie tonight and wouldn’t be home for another few hours whereas Usopp just so happened to be in the neighborhood. He’d called shortly before practice ended to let him know, but the dojo didn’t validate parking for non-gym members which meant he’d had to park some ways up the street and then come down to fetch him because Zoro was ‘too directionally challenged to find his way to the end of a rainbow.’
Whatever that meant.
It wasn’t his fault the streets moved.
“The sharp end,” Zoro clarified when the silence stretched uncomfortably.
“Yeah, I’m not sure you realize what you just said,” Usopp told him.
“I said—Oh,” he realized, “Oh, fuck, no.”
“Oh, cool, you figured it out.”
Zoro sputtered profusely at the images his accidental double entendre evoked, “Not like that!”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Mr. Sword-Explorer.”
“Seriously, I do not have a crush on the cook,” he insisted. “Besides, if I was going to have a crush on anyone it definitely wouldn’t be him. He’s not my type.”
“Then who is?” Usopp prodded. “I’ve never seen you date.”
“Uh…”
Fuck.
Sweating, Zoro wracked his brain for a name none of their friends would know. Why did one of them always have to know someone? When his brain gave him nothing but steam, he glanced around wildly and caught sight of his saving grace in the form of a massive billboard posted above one of the buildings up ahead.
“Her! She’s,” pointing, he searched for the words, “pretty hot.”
Okay, that was a lame descriptor, but he wasn’t wrong.
It was dark out so the screen was glowing brightly against the deep blue backdrop like his own personal deus ex machina.
Far from an expert in cosmetics, Zoro could only guess that it was some kind of lipstick brand advertisement if the close-up of the model’s face was any indication. Her plush lips were clearly the focal point, painted a shiny, cherry red that matched the sparkly tube she was holding up between perfectly manicured red nails for comparison. The rest was of her was equally stunning with wavy pink hair hiding away one of her eyes to create the visage of a mysterious beauty looking down on the lowly mortals gawking beneath her lidded, deep blue gaze.
In short, she was beyond pretty and hot seemed too crude a term. Someone better than him with words would have been right to call her divine and Zoro knew plenty of men and women who would throw themselves across a puddle in the middle of the street to be of service to someone so ethereal, even just to earn a passing glance and maybe revel in her heel on their backs. He wasn’t one of them, but he still had one working eye and it told him there was definitely something uniquely captivating about this woman now that he was really looking. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, though.
“Poison Pink,” Usopp read the swirly font next to her close-up and then gave Zoro a look. “Have you seen her stuff before?”
“Yeah,” Zoro lied. “It’s good stuff.”
“That’s Sanji’s sister, dude.”
Zoro stared at him.
“Are you sure?”
Usopp stared back.
“One hundred percent.”
Sanji did mention having a sister once. Zoro looked back at the ad and the family resemblance became abruptly apparent.
“The eyebrows,” he whispered. Hers was curled at the edge beneath another pink tress. He cursed. Even when Sanji wasn’t around, those thrice-damned curly brows had found a way to mock him. “God damn it.”
“Wanna try again or accept the facts?” Usopp asked. “Or, you, know, tell Sanji you’re crushing hard on his sister because that’ll go over well.”
None of those options were appealing, but Zoro was nothing if not determined to end this periodic humiliation ritual.
“Shut up,” Cheeks burning, he hustled in the direction of the car.
Even if he did have a crush on the cook, which he certifiably did not, there were plenty of other people out there who were just as devastatingly attractive and completely unrelated. At least one of them had to be his type and then he’d have an alibi to shut his friends up for good.
They didn’t know what they were talking about. Crush on the cook, his ass. Zoro readjusted his bag. Ridiculous.
He turned a corner.
“Left!”
“I knew that!”
He hung a left.
“No, the other — Oh my god, just wait for me!” Usopp’s footsteps pounded on the sidewalk as Zoro moved swiftly in what he believed was the right direction.
He was on a mission now and little did he know, his trials were just beginning.
It was time he entered The Dating Pool.