Work Text:
"Shouldn't you be like drooling over some chicks or something?"
"What are you doing here?" Sanji snaps.
"Drinking, stupid," Zoro says gruffly. Sanji rolls his eyes.
"Yeah, obviously. I mean what are you doing here? On the chair next to me. For all you know, that could have been reserved for some ridiculously gorgeous woman."
"Uh huh," Zoro smirks, "I saw you come in half an hour ago. This is sad. You've been nursing that this whole time," he says, glancing down at the drink in Sanji's hand. "And who mixes a cocktail like that at a party?"
Sanji looks away. "I don’t like straight liquor. Not all of us are raging alcoholics."
"At least I'm not a chainsmoker. You're twenty, it's almost spring break, live a little."
"I'm twenty-one," Sanji says quietly.
"What?" Zoro sets his beer down on the counter. "No you're not."
"It's March 2nd, dipshit," Sanji grumbles. "It's my birthday."
"Oh," Zoro says. Fuck. There's a beat of silence. "Shit, man, I'm sorry–"
"No, it's fine," Sanji interrupts. "I don't like to make a big deal out of it." More silence. "Just, like, let me drink my cosmo in peace, you know?"
Zoro chuckles a little, "Sorry," he grins playfully, "but, like, with the lime slice and everything? Come on. And anyway, you shouldn't be mixing your own drinks on your 21st birthday, let alone be mixing them in a shitty frat house kitchen."
"Well, here I am."
"It's still pretty early," Zoro says, looking at the clock on the microwave. "Look, it's not even 8:00. Let's go to dinner."
After a fifteen minute walk and some half-hearted protest from Sanji, the two of them sit across from each other in a booth at the fanciest restaurant Zoro could find on Google Maps that was a walkable distance away, wouldn't need a reservation, and was open. (It’s not very fancy.) It's some sort of Italian place with pasta and pizza. And more importantly, wine. If Zoro knows one thing about Sanji, it's that he would take wine over whiskey any day.
"So," Zoro breaks the silence. "What will the birthday boy be having?"
A slight blush creeps across Sanji's cheeks, and he scowls. "Don't call me that. But I'm thinking maybe the ravioli."
"Have you looked at the wine menu?" Zoro asks, nudging the piece of paper towards him.
"Jesus, you really are an alcoholic," Sanji says, but he picks it up.
Zoro watches Sanji’s eyes flit across the paper. They remind him of the ocean. He zones out a little, just looking at the tiny slivers of blue he could see under Sanji’s thick lashes, darting back and forth as he scanned the menu. Zoro is glad he didn’t try to pick out a bottle for the two of them. He’d thought about it, as a play at impressing Sanji, but undoubtedly, he would have ended up embarrassing himself. Sanji finally glances up.
“Are you alright with the Pinot Grigio?” he asks. Zoro nods like he knows the difference between Pinot Grigio and any other type of wine on that menu. If he’s being honest, he doesn’t even know what color it is. But it doesn’t matter. The cook at least will get some enjoyment out of a proper wine pairing.
“You’re quiet tonight,” Sanji says suspiciously, squinting across the table at him. Zoro opens his mouth to respond, despite having no clue what to say, but is saved by the waitress, who arrives at that exact moment, topping off their waters and taking all of Sanji’s attention off of Zoro.
“You two celebrating anything special tonight?” she asks, eyeing Sanji’s dress shirt.
“It’s his birthday,” Zoro says, nodding across the table at Sanji. He didn’t mention that Sanji wore dress shirts at least five days out of any given week. “You should get everyone to sing to him or something.”
Sanji flushes deep red and glares at him. “No, no,” he says quickly, plastering a smile on as he turns back to the waitress. “Don’t trouble everyone. Really, seeing your beautiful smile is present enough.” She giggles. Zoro can feel a heavy burning in his stomach. He rolls his eyes, clearing his throat.
“Are you two ready to order?” she asks sweetly.
Sanji nods his head, giving her a dashing grin before asking for whatever bottle of wine he had decided on and ordering his food.
“Sure thing, sir,” she says with a smile.
Zoro orders, and the waitress scribbles it down under Sanji’s order on her notepad before scuttling off to another table.
“Really?” Sanji cackles as soon as she leaves.
“What?” Zoro asks, his brow furrowing.
“A large sausage pizza?” he wheezes. “Are you in a porno from the 90s?”
“Are you 14 years old?” Zoro spits back.
“You’re the one getting pizza at a fancy restaurant.” He puts air quotes around fancy.
Zoro snorts, then rubs his hand through his hair, shrugging. “I like what I like.”
“Whatever you say, mossy,” Sanji says, smiling.
The waitress comes back with the wine and a couple glasses, and pours each of them a large glass. Zoro takes a gulp. Sanji puts his glass down after a much more reserved sip, his eyes wide.
“You’re going to finish the bottle before we even get our food at that rate!”
Zoro makes an annoyed grunt. “So what if I do?” he grumbles, halfheartedly setting down his glass. It is already substantially less full than Sanji’s.
“You’re supposed to savor it, marimo,” he says it like he’s speaking to a child, all slow, like Zoro’s an idiot. Which, compared to Sanji, when it comes to wine, he supposes he is. But it’s a challenge, nonetheless.
Zoro gives him a light kick to the shin under the table, glaring across the table.
Sanji grins, a dangerous glint in his eye, kicking him back harder.
“Since it’s your birthday, I’ll let you win just this once,” Zoro says. His voice is low and gravelly, but still slightly playful.
“Oh, it’s no fun if you let me win,” Sanji protests, nudging Zoro’s leg with his foot again. Zoro can feel his face heat up, but Sanji doesn’t notice, because he’s now looking back at the waitress, who has come to drop off their plates.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” she says with a smile before running off again. Sanji watches her hips sway with her walk and Zoro scowls down at his pizza but clears his expression quickly enough that he hopes Sanji doesn’t notice. He looks back across the table. Sanji smiles at him, and his stomach starts to feel weird. Fuck . Fucking butterflies? Is he fourteen years old after all?
He clears his throat, shoving his thoughts out of his head. “Is it good?”
“Haven’t tried it yet,” Sanji replies, then cuts one of the pasta pockets in half, blowing on it to cool it down before he takes a bite. Zoro feels frozen, staring across the table at him. “It’s good,” he says once he finishes chewing and swallowing. “How’s yours?”
Zoro picks up a piece of pizza. It’s cut into little squares instead of pie-style slices. He pops the whole thing in his mouth. “Good,” he says with a thumbs up.
Sanji smiles at him again, reaching for the bottle of wine to refill his own glass before passing the bottle to Zoro. He hadn’t realized it was empty.
Sanji keeps getting more and more smiley, giggly, even. Zoro’s stomach is churning, and he can’t seem to shake the heat off of his cheeks. And every time the waitress comes by, he finds himself scowling as Sanji flirts with her and she flirts back.
“Oh, come on,” Zoro groans, looking at the check he had taken from Sanji’s side of the table. The waitress had put it in front of Sanji, which had already pissed him off for some reason, but that was nothing compared to what was waiting for him when he actually looked at the piece of paper.
”What?” Sanji whines from across the table, reaching over to tug at Zoro’s sleeve.
“It’s nothing,” he grumbles.
“Gimmee,” Sanji says, snatching the receipt and looking at it.
“Oh!” he giggles, “someone’s jealous!” Zoro rolls his eyes.
“I’m not jealous ,” he spits, sounding very jealous, in fact.
The waitress had left her number on the receipt, along with a quick message scrawled in cursive: “Happy Birthday ;)”. He didn’t even get why he was so annoyed. How could he be jealous if he wasn’t even into girls? He glares over at Sanji, and the blonde’s face falls slightly. He hands the check back to Zoro. “Not like I’m gonna call her.” Sanji’s slurring a little. What a lightweight. A half a bottle of wine and he’s already this sloppy?
”Why not?” Zoro snaps, a little more hostile than he had intended.
“Why would I?”
”You were drooling over her like ten minutes ago,” Zoro says shortly.
”Just being polite,” Sanji mumbles, blushing, looking down at his hands.
Zoro looks at him a few seconds too long. He opens his mouth, then closes it again.
“If you say so,” he finally says, standing up. He doesn’t wait for Sanji, who is rushing to put his jacket back on. He walks up to the register at the front of the restaurant, pays, and is out the door before the birthday boy can say another word.
The bell on the restaurant door jingles behind him and Sanji finally catches up, tugging at Zoro’s sleeve.
“Hey,” he says shakily, and when Zoro looks back at him, a wave of guilt washes over him.
“What?” Zoro says, a bit less harsh than before. He feels too warm. Sanji is still clutching his sleeve.
”Just gonna leave the birthday boy all on his own?” he asks with a small smile, looking up at Zoro through his lashes. Fuck. His eyes were… a lot prettier than Zoro remembered them being just a few minutes ago.
“I… Sorry,” he finally says, fighting his instinct to say something catty and defensive.
“‘Salright,” Sanji says, swaying toward him. His head rests on Zoro’s shoulder for about a second before he sways back the other way.
Zoro reaches out, grabbing Sanji’s shoulder to steady him. “You’re gonna fall over, dumbass.”
Sanji rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling that big stupid grin. He stops walking. Zoro stops too, staring at him. He can feel his face heating up. Sanji looks so soft and happy and suddenly he is all Zoro wants. He brings his other hand up to Sanji’s jaw and leans in to kiss him in one motion.
Sanji tenses for a second and Zoro fears that he’s made a huge mistake, but before he has time to fully form the thought, Sanji runs his hands up Zoro’s back, leaning into the kiss as it grows sloppier and more urgent.
After what feels like both an eternity and mere seconds, they break apart, and Zoro’s breathing is ragged and when he looks at Sanji, he can see that his face is an even darker pink than before, and that he is just as breathless as Zoro is. His lips are pink and puffy from the long kiss, and he looks divine. Zoro decides he probably hasn’t ever seen a more beautiful man.
Sanji leans back in for another quick kiss. “Can we… go back to my dorm?” he asks, looking up through his lashes.
Zoro chokes down the lump in his throat and nods, watching Sanji’s face light up as he links his arm through Zoro’s and starts walking towards campus again.
“Don’t need to be all touchy about it,” Zoro grumbles, but he doesn’t pull away. Sanji jabs an elbow into Zoro’s ribs, and he hisses, ramming his shoulder into Sanji’s in response. Sanji loses his balance and stumbles to the side, falling into a grassy patch beside the sidewalk, pulling Zoro down with him.
Zoro’s breath hitches. He starts to untangle himself from Sanji, but in one fluid motion, Sanji jerks his leg to the side (tripping Zoro once again) and rolls over, so that he’s now on top. Zoro feels the damp grass against the back of his neck, catching his breath before flashing Sanji a wicked grin. The pair start to wrestle in the grass, clawing and kicking at each other; one never stays on top for long.
Sanji starts giggling, and Zoro can’t help but smile along with him. He rolls off of him, and the two men are left lying on their backs in the grass, laughing over nothing together. It’s nice. Zoro doesn’t know how long they stay there, laughing. But he knows that eventually they quiet down into a comfortable silence, and his hand somehow finds its way into Sanji’s. And Sanji is getting closer and closer to him, and he’s pointing out different constellations in the clear night sky. And even though he’s literally lying in a ditch, he doesn’t mind, and this is actually the nicest night he’s had in a long time.
A soft snore takes Zoro out of his own head. He cranes his neck to look down at Sanji, who is asleep on his shoulder. He doesn’t want to wake him, but he also doesn’t want either of them to spend the whole night in the ditch, so he nudges him gently.
“Hey, curls,” he whispers.
Sanji blearily opens his eyes, smiling. “Hey, mossy.”
“Let’s get you home, yeah?”
Sanji pouts, but lets Zoro help him to his feet. They make most of the trek back to Sanji’s dorm in silence. It’s not until they’re outside of his bedroom door that Sanji finally speaks up. “It was a really good birthday,” he says quietly, looking at his feet.
Zoro grins. “I’m glad.”
“You… aren’t just acting like this because you felt bad, are you?”
Zoro freezes. “What? No!” he says quickly. Sanji lets out a deep breath. “Why would you even think that?” Zoro asks.
“I don’t know,” Sanji says, fiddling with the buttons on his jacket. “Just, like, why now?”
“What do you mean?” Zoro looks confused. And he is confused.
“I’ve been flirting with you for so long now… I’d just about given up,” Sanji laughs.
Oh. Zoro feels his face heating up. “Um, I guess I’m not the best at… uh, reading that kind of thing.”
“Guess not,” Sanji giggles. He’s very giggly.
Zoro scowls. “Maybe you were just doing a bad job dropping hints!” he says, a little louder than he means to.
Sanji scoffs. “Okay, moss-for-brains.” He pauses. “Listen, I uh, have to work tomorrow…”
“It’s Saturday!”
“Yeah,” Sanji says, “that’s why I have to work. If it wasn’t a weekend, I’d have class.”
Zoro shuffles his feet awkwardly, looking at the ground. “Uh, goodnight, then.” He raises his voice ever so slightly at the end, like it’s a question.
“Goodnight,” Sanji says, smiling. He leans in to give Zoro a kiss on the cheek, making both of them blush. “Thank you for tonight, really.”
“Don’t mention it, curly,” Zoro grumbles before rushing down the hallway like he has somewhere to be.