Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sizzle . 

Sanji stood at the stove, diligently watching all the various dishes he was preparing for that night's feast. A pot on the stove bubbled gently, the warmth of the stove leaving him with a sheen of sweat covering his body. He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, a grin settling on his lips. 

The gentle hum of the refrigerator calmed him as he worked, all his movements second nature to him. His kitchen was his home, his safe space– where he was in control and always knew what to do. He crouched down in front of the stove, checking on the meat of the sea king Luffy had caught that morning. Speaking of Luffy….

“SANJI!” His captain's sudden exclamation had him flinching as Luffy crashed through the galley door. “When’s dinner? I’m hungry hungry hungry!” 

“Just about done, Luffy! Actually, I made something spec–” 

“Mm, it smells wonderful in here, Sanji-kun! What’s for dinner?” Nami’s voice cut through his own, forcing his excited explanation back down his throat, the words leaking down into his chest like liquid tar. He stood, frozen, as he forced air into his lungs. 

Breathe in, breathe out. It wasn’t a big deal, Sanji told himself. He could do this. 

Sanji pulled on his metaphorical mask fast enough to give himself whiplash. He stumbled a bit on his feet as he continued to cook.

“Oh dear, oh Nami-swan!” Sanji twirled through the kitchen, signature love-sick expression slapped haphazardly on his face. “I’ve prepared a feast for tonight, of course! I’ve made a–”

“Sanji-bro! Smells great in here, dude!” Franky burst through the galley door, ducking a bit so he didn’t smack his head on the top of the frame. 

Sanji’s fist clenched and unclenched in an unsteady rhythm at his side. 

Breathe in. 

He focused on the sizzle of the sea king meat, the bubbling of the sauces atop the stove. He was in his kitchen. Everything was okay. 

Breathe ou-

“Oh Cook-san, you’ve outdone yourself again!” Robin giggled to herself as she made her way in, taking a seat next to Franky at the dinner table. 

Anger bubbled to the surface faster than he’d like to admit. It churned in his gut, crawling and sizzling under his skin like a colony of fire ants. 

Fine. If his comments weren’t wanted, then he’d shut the fuck up. Just as everyone so clearly wanted. Just like his family always wanted .

With an angry huff, he turned back towards the stove, tuning out the commotion behind him. As he focused on his work, on completing each dish, his anger dissipated into sadness, settling deep into his bones. It ached .

He ignored the tears burning behind his eyes as he put the final touches on his perfectly-made feast. And with one final garnish, his work was done. He looked upon the plates of food, a pensive smile on his face. A smile which quickly faded, as he thought about how this was all he was good for. At least he was good for something, that was more than his family ever gave him . 

As he’d finished preparations for dinner, he’d tuned out his various crewmates entering the galley and taking their seats. Everyone was now seated at the table, chatting amongst themselves. A frown settled on Sanji’s lips as he looked at them from his spot in the kitchen. In that moment, he felt like nothing more than an outsider looking in. His gut churned at the thought. 

Sanji continued to ignore their chatter as he set each dish on the table one by one. No one turned to thank him, instead just digging into their food. His mood soured even more.

Just as he was about to take his seat, the one he always sat in, right next to Zoro– his partner, who he needed more than anything else right now– he found the seat occupied. And by Nami, of all people. 

“Oh– I’m in your seat…my bad, Sanji-kun!” Nami had barely shifted her attention from her food to acknowledge him. And with that small action, Sanji felt his anger crash back into him like the largest of waves, his hands shaking at his sides with barely contained rage. 

The sizzling no longer came from the stove– it was under his skin, fraying his nerves. Sanji had hit his limit. 

He couldn’t bring himself to be subtle anymore, to keep that mask of normalcy and cheerfulness on his face. He stomped out of the galley as fast as he could, ignoring the various sets of eyes burning into his back. 

When the galley door slammed behind him, Sanji now hidden from the eyes of his crew, he fell apart. As he speed-walked to the bathroom, fresh tears careened down his cheeks, his exhales nothing more than choked off puffs of air. 

Once he’d found his way to the bathroom, he was quick to slam the door behind him. His back found the wall as his knees buckled, his body slipping slowly to the tiled floor. The chill of the room, the darkness he’d doused himself in by not turning on the light– it wrapped around his form like a blanket. Sanji found an odd form of comfort in it, despite the memories which began to arise. 

He hugged his knees to his chest, face buried between them, just as he had done all those years ago in the dungeon. And just like back then, Sanji cried. His chest burned with each sob, blunt fingernails digging into his palms. Such a small thing had tipped him over the edge. He was pathetic– just like his family always told him. Just like he was back then. Maybe he hadn’t changed after all. 

“ Curls .”

The sudden yet muffled voice of his partner had him flinching in shock. His head shot up, the back of it knocking against the tile wall with a resounding thud. A pained whimper slipped out, bottom lip pulled between his teeth to hide any further sound. 

A gentle knock on the bathroom door. Sanji hugged himself a little tighter.

“Curly, I know you’re in there,” Zoro spoke gently, voice low and rumbly, just as it always was. Sanji yearned to rest his head against his partner’s chest, to feel the comforting rumble of his voice against his cheek. Sanji swallowed down a whine. 

“Oh the door– I’m coming in.”

In his rush for solitude, Sanji had forgotten to lock the door. He didn’t have a  moment to react before the door was pushed open, his partner on the other side with eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Sanji’s mouth fell open, to tell Zoro he was fine, he just really needed to pee and stumbled face first into the wall or something. Yet, he couldn’t speak. His words sat heavy on his tongue, in his mind– yet he couldn’t bring himself to voice them. His mouth snapped shut. Sanji tucked his face back between his knees in shame. 

Zoro’s boots thumped against the tile as he approached his curled up form, limbs wound tight and quivering. On his way in, Zoro closed and locked the door, keeping the lights off. A sudden sigh of relief passed through his lips, shoulders sagging. Sanji didn’t think he could handle the bright light right now, and Zoro knew that. He knew him so well. Sanji couldn’t stop the fresh tears that spilled with the realization. He cared. 

Zoro kneeled in front of him, movement slow yet deliberate. Sanji could feel the heat radiating off of his body, a huge contrast to the chill in the room. He yearned to reach out, to be enveloped in his warmth. After all, warmth meant safety– it meant home. 

All the cold did was remind him of the dungeon. Of bugs crawling against his skin, the pitch black that enveloped him. His heart thundered against his ribs at the mere thought. Sanji fought desperately to push the wretched memories away. 

“Can’t talk?” Zoro hummed, his voice just as warm as his body. Safe . Most of the painful memories attempting to claw their way to the front of his mind were pushed back by Zoro’s words alone. 

Sanji subconsciously untangled his limbs a little at the sound of his partner’s gentle tone. 

“C’mon, Curls. Hold onto my arm. You remember the tap system, yeah?” Zoro urged, stretching out his left arm. It grazed Sanji’s bent legs, the warmth of it startling him a bit in the darkness. Sanji did as instructed, grabbing onto Zoro’s forearm. The muscle was firm under his palm, a steady reminder that Zoro was there. That he wasn’t alone in that dungeon anymore. The last of his painful memories slipped away like the waning tide. 

Sanji lifted his head, nodding softly. He stared at Zoro’s face, expression barely visible in the near-darkness of the room. However, moonlight leaked through the cracks in the door, a halo of light brightening the edges of Zoro’s features. Despite his commonly stoic appearance, his current features were far from that. The expression Zoro wore now was reserved for him. Zoro looked down at him with so much love in his eyes, features softened and a droopy smile on his lips.

“There you are,” Zoro grinned, and Sanji’s heart squeezed in his chest. “Can you give me one tap for yes, two for no– do you want to be left alone?” 

His heart dropped. His pointer and middle finger tapped twice against Zoro’s skin, his dismay clear on his features.

“Alright, don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” Zoro soothed, free hand landing on Sanji’s knee. His thumb moved in circles atop his dresspants, the small comfort in the gesture meaning the world to him. 

“You want me to hold you?” Zoro asked, Sanji delivering a swift, single tap to his forearm the moment the question passed through his lips. He chuckled fondly, surging forward to wrap the blond in his arms. 

It took a bit of shuffling around, but soon, Sanji was tucked securely in Zoro’s lap. His arms and legs curled around Zoro’s torso, face buried in the crook of his neck like he was a damn koala. Zoro held him close, both arms looped around his upper back protectively. 

“There we go,” Zoro assured, gentle fingers carding through blond hair. “It’s alright, Sanji. I’ve got you,” Sanji nuzzled into his chest, the rumble of Zoro’s words against his cheek bringing unspeakable amounts of comfort. 

They didn’t need to speak to communicate– Zoro knew Sanji like the back of his hand, and the reverse was also true. The thought alone had Sanji’s heart bursting with affection. He felt more seen than he ever had. 

Zoro pressed a gentle kiss to his temple. With a sigh, he settled fully into the warmth and safety of Zoro’s knowing arms. Everything would be okay.