Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Are you sure he’s okay with this?” Sanji asks hesitantly, his phone precariously tucked between his head and his shoulder.

Currently, he’s bouncing his leg restlessly in the car Zeff let him borrow, staring up at the apartment building where Zoro lives.

“The guy barely tolerates me, and he still let me stay at his place indefinitely? That doesn’t check out. He’s gonna poison me in my sleep” the blonde guesses, gulping.

The truth is, Zoro was less than his last option. That is to say, he wasn’t even on the list of options he’d initially come up with when his own apartment lit on fucking fire.

Or- well, okay, his apartment didn’t actually light on fire. At least, not his apartment. It was the one beside his. A lovely old lady that just wanted to make herself some pasta and next thing she knew, her whole kitchen was on fire.

Her kitchen, for some weird fucking reason, connected directly with the cook’s apartment. Specifically, with his bedroom. Yeah… the only thing worse than waking up to your room filling up with smoke is waking up to an old lady screaming desperately on the other side of the wall.

It was a scare and a half.

Sanji vowed to cook her meals from now on, it was a whole thing. Everyone survived the incident, thankfully. But his bedroom was a mess when the firefighters finally arrived. Blackened wall that completely fell apart, charred mattress and sheets, his bedside table (with nothing too important in it, thankfully) was completely destroyed.

And everything in it, including his clothes, reeked of smoke now. The landlord said they would do the necessary reparations, and they asked for an estimate of one month. One month to fix a whole ass wall.

Does that sound delusional to anyone else?

Anyway, Sanji had to move out for a few days, take the essentials that survived the fire, and ask for a place to crash in. His first option was, obviously, Zeff’s restaurant.

It had a couple little rooms they both sometimes stayed in to sleep when the days went on for too long. Only teeny tiny problem? It’s SO. FUCKING. TINY.

He might as well be living inside a fridge. Cramped, cold, and something must be rotting nearby ‘cause it smells like shit.

Sanji could only take it for three days before he started go down his list of other options.

Nami — Living with her girlfriend in her one room apartment. They’d both feel bad making him sleep in their couch that they’re pretty sure is made of dog hair. Nami-san got it almost for free… which is another red flag. He wasn’t that desperate.

Usopp and Chopper — Currently both of them are studying for finals and their apartment is a complete mess. Like, there’s radioactive shit growing in the walls. Chopper hasn’t seen food that wasn’t sealed in a bag for weeks.

Luffy — His two brothers decided to visit randomly for a whole fucking month. Ace was pretty open to the idea of sharing a bed, but Sanji just… wasn’t. If it was a lady, he would’ve jumped at the chance, but he doesn’t swing that way, and he has a very STRONG feeling Ace does. Besides, Luffy only has two twin beds, so they wouldn’t just be sharing a bed, they’d have to be on top of each other to fit.

Robin and Franky — Currently dealing with their little baby girl, Olivia. Sanji’s not heartless enough to add to that stress. Plus, he’s afraid that if he looks at Olivia again, he’ll never leave her side. That little angel must be protected at all costs, and if he didn’t have a job, he’d be her personal assistant.

And finally Brook — He lives in his fucking van. Hard pass. Not that the van life is not great, but it’s cramped as fuck. And Sanji’s sort of trying to get away from that.

When he found dead ends everywhere, the cook sort or resigned himself. A month of this couldn’t be that bad, right? Maybe if he gets desperate enough he’ll go sleep on the dog-couch.

Two days later, he gets a call from Nami-san. With very… odd news… “Zoro says you can crash at his place!”

The statement in itself made Sanji check that he wasn’t dreaming. Twice. “What?”

“He’s surprisingly tidy, you know? Probably because his dad would kill him and take the apartment away if he wasn’t. He’s really quiet as a roommate, too, I lived there a couple weeks when I had that leak, remember?” the red-head goes on, “He has a perfect guest room with all the basic stuff. And it’s empty. He’s never really had a roommate for long”.

Okay, that’s way too detailed for it to be a dream, right? “You’re serious?! He’s actually gonna let me in his house? For a month?!” It’s not that Sanji’s not grateful, but it’s just baffling. He hasn’t even seen this place! Not once! That should tell anybody enough about the status of his and Zoro’s friendship.

It’s not that they’re not friends… it’s just complicated. Sanji likes being with the idiot and arguing, but it’s never really seemed like it’s mutual. Once upon a time, he tried and tried to befriend the idiot, but every time, the Marimo would just piss him off, and he’d say something impulsive… and things just got worse and worse.

They’ve had their moments, and they talk a lot more now when they get together, but it’s still a strained friendship what they have. At best.

Sanji can’t think of a time when they’ve been alone, just the two of them. The prospect really excites him for some reason, and this weird impulse he had when they met of befriending the cactus of a man resurged with a vengeance.

A month, with the Marimo, in the same apartment? They could actually become friends! They could go drinking, just the two of them! Watch tv and criticize the idiots acting on drama shows like they’ve done a couple times when others are present! This could be so fucking great!

“Come on, Sanji-kun, don’t turn him down! I actually had to beg and you know how much I hate—“ Nami-san started, but he’d already made up his mind.

Interrupting, he nearly shouts into the phone, “I’ll take it!”

Fucking finally! He’ll stop feeling like it’s awkward whenever their eyes cross, or whenever they’re shoved together on a couch.

The blind excitement to squash some nonexistent beef and cultivate a friendship with the idiot that’s already supposed to be his friend is what brought him here. He borrowed Zeff’s pickup truck, loaded a couple boxes of stuff and just headed up here. To Zoro’s apartment building.

…He probably should’ve texted first to confirm.

But Nami-san tried reassuring him, as he freaked out in his car “I swear he’s not gonna poison you in your sleep. Pinky promise. If you guys fight, he’s probably punch you in the face, but you risked that already even if you weren’t at his place. And you can fight back, so it’s gonna be fine”.

“Right…”

She chuckles, as if she just solved all his problems, “Anyways, Viv just got back home and I gotta go back to my Wifey duties” she jokes.

The comment makes Sanji chuckle, “Sure. Thanks for this, Nami-san. Say hi to Vivi-chan for me”.

“Don’t thank me, thank that musclehead” she corrects, “I was 98% sure he was gonna say no, no matter how much I begged”. As if just thinking of this, she adds, “See? He probably doesn’t hate you!”

Yeah. Probably… “Bye, Nami-san”

“Bye-Bye!”

An eternity later after the phone call, he finally gathers the courage to approach. He has no idea why he’s so fucking scared of this. It’s just the stupid Marimo. He’s gonna be grumpy and stupid as always, and they’re gonna bicker as always. At worst, they’re finally gonna spend a bit more time together.

Taking a steadying breath, he knocks. It’s not even three seconds before the door flies open.

A very… scowl-y Moss-ball greets him. Honestly, that expression alone tells the cook he’s not all that thrilled over the arrangement. Great. “You gonna let me through, or you hoping I drop dead before I have to?”

His voice came out a bit shaky, giving away how truly anxious he was about this. Zoro doesn’t notice, just moves aside and opens the door wider. He doesn’t say one fucking word.

This is just great.

Also, not even adjacent to the point, but holy shit! This apartment is AT LEAST triple what his own is in every way. Space, storage, furniture quality, rooms… it must cost a fortune! Nami-san said it was his family’s?! Shit, Zoro must be loaded!

Sadly, this last thought escapes his lips before he can think better of it. With a low whistle, he lets his eyes wander as he comments, “Shit, Moss-ball… you didn’t tell us you were rich as fuck”.

This makes Zoro scoff, “You want me to wear a badge? ‘My dad’s worth more than all of your lives combined’?”

It was clearly a jab, but it made Sanji inexplicably happy that it felt a bit more relaxed. Interactive, even. “Sure. Or just, ‘I could pay for your groceries every once in a while’ could’ve been a good badge” he jokes.

“I’m not paying for your stupid groceries” the Marimo huffs, “We’re buying separate shit. I don’t want your weirdo ingredients mixing with my food”.

Oh, that’s fucking rich. “Food?!” he puts his boxes down in the middle of the living room. Even the carpet feels like it’s luxurious through his shoes. “I bet you fifty bucks I could list everything in your fridge right now, and all of it barely qualifies as ‘food’”.

Intrigued, Zoro smirks, moving to the kitchen, “Go ahead”.

Cracking his neck, Sanji approaches, leaning over the breakfast bar (it was pure marble! What the fuck?!) “Okay, ready?” The Moss-ball shrugs. “At least a few containers of days old sushi rice, one mediocre attempt at onigiri, salmon just seasoned with salt because you’re a caveman, two bottles of soy sauce because you look like the kind of idiot that forgets what they bought already… Should I keep going?”

Grinding his teeth, the Marimo shifts his weight from foot to foot. Clearly, he’s hit the nail in the head. “That’s not everything” he challenges.

Okay then.

“Frozen meat, frozen sausages, frozen meals for when you feel like doing less than nothing, a six pack of beer… you don’t love bread, but I bet you’ve got at least hamburger buns or hot dog buns and I bet you’re a savage and you keep ‘em in the fridge. A couple cans of energy drinks, cheese, like a block of… Gouda maybe? Parmesan? Dunno. And… if you really have buns, I bet you’ve got some kind of ketchup? No… you don’t like sweet…” he blinks for a moment, “Mustard”.

Zoro’s eye twitches in annoyance, and he reaches in his pocket to grab his phone. It leaves the cook baffled but in seconds, his own phone pings with a notification: he just got 50 bucks. “Arrogant prick” the green-haired asshole grumbles.

Smiling proudly, he pockets his phone again, “And not one single veggie, Marimo? You’re supposed to eat healthy to be an athlete, right?”

This elicits an eye-roll, as Zoro walks back to the living room, picks up the boxes and heads to the guest room. “You’re gonna lecture me about healthy? Mr. I-gift-my-food-to-strangers-for-no-reason?! At least I eat something”.

“Hear me out” he tries to negotiate as they get in the guest room, “You’re helping me out here, so I help you out”. The offer catches Zoro’s attention, prompting him to lay the boxes down and turn, eyebrow quirked. “I’ll take care of the groceries. I’ll pay for ‘em. Just lemme at least cook something for your stupid ass that isn’t some deconstructed and sad version of sushi”.

He’d honestly expected an easy ‘yeah sure’. It was a no brainer. Sanji’s a goddamned professional chef. All everyone wants from him is his food, and occasionally his good looks, but that’s just with the ladies. Instead, the Marimo’s calm demeanor faltered, “You wanna make me food? Every day?”

“Duh. I’m gonna be making food for myself already—“

Zoro shakes his head, “I’m fine. You do your food, I’ll take care of mine”. Oh… well… okay. Trying to push through the awkward moment, the Marimo turns to the room, “Uh, there’s the bed. Sheets are on that cupboard over there. You have your own bathroom so stay the hell away from mine. You can use anything in here or in the kitchen, use the tv and whatever else if you want, too. Just don’t touch my stuff”.

Sighing to let out a bit of the disappointment he felt just before, he presses his lips in a tight smile, “Got it”.

As he walks out, the moss-ball adds, “Oh, and…” he seems to debate saying this, but then he goes, “Don’t bring any girls in. This isn’t a fucking motel”.

Sanji can only snort, “Sure, whatever”. He can’t remember when’s the last time he even went on a date, let alone got laid. Zeff asked about it a few weeks ago, and he had to explain to his dad that somehow, he was just… uninterested.

He still loved women, he just wasn’t in love with all of them anymore. He’d go back, hopefully, but he hadn’t been able to shake off this funk. So no worries about that, at least.

Left alone to his own devices, Sanji finally allowed himself to look around. It was a beautiful room. The bathroom was spacious. This was a hotel compared to the little cubby he’d been living in the past few days.

He should probably unpack, give Zoro a moment to get used to the not-so-wanted company…

Instead, he walks right back out, “Can I at least buy dinner?”

The Marimo sighs from his spot by the fridge, opening one of his beers, “I won’t say no to a pizza”.

Sanji’s aim should’ve been to go unnoticed. He was in someone else’s house, unwanted, and he was taking up space. The least he could fucking do is keep to himself and not be a bother.

Except … he just keeps finding little ways that he can be helpful.

It starts simple that first week. With cleaning. It’s no secret Sanji’s a neat freak, but nobody really knows to what extent. Until now. Little by little, he’s gotten away with cleaning thoroughly every corner of the damned apartment. As a thanks, you know?

He deep cleans the main sofa, and the loveseat by the window, the kitchen and nearly every dish, silverware and pot. He puts everything neatly back in place.

Then he moves on to the bathrooms. Sanji was a little hesitant about crossing the boundary and going into Zoro’s, so he just cleaned the guest bathroom, telling himself that what he couldn’t see, couldn’t hurt.

After that, he deep cleaned his own room and everything in it. Not because he thought it was dirty, but because he was trying to be helpful.

He brought from home all his special cleaning stuff, and everyday after his shifts at the restaurant, he waited for the Marimo to go to sleep and got to work for a couple hours.

If he noticed, the moss-ball never said anything.

Every door’s hinges were oiled, the wood surfaces were polished, the marble countertop, too, and the beautiful window with a view was thoroughly cleaned as well. Inside and out. Don’t ask how he did the ‘out’ part.

By day 5, Sanji was trying to figure out how to go about cleaning the carpet on the living room. That’s the night Zoro decides to come out of his room to grab a glass of water.

Great.

There wasn’t even a second to feel awkward, though, before the asshole was talking, “Stop being a weirdo and cleaning shit in secret and go to sleep, you idiot. If you think it’s so fucking dirty then clean it in the morning. You’re gonna colapse if you keep this up”.

The cook blinks up, confused at the swift acceptance of his gesture. And sure, the words may not seem as accepting to anyone else, but when Roronoa Zoro wants you to stop doing something? He says so point-blank. Like, ‘stop it, it’s weird’. But the way Sanji heard the words, it sounded like he was given full permission to clean.

In the morning, that is. But he can clean.

So he accepts the terms, and starts being a lot more overt about his cleaning when he comes back from work. The musclehead barely says a thing about it. It’s almost as if he’s trying to ignore him, but the cook will take that over being thrown out for his weirdo neat-freak gestures.

That weekend, he officially was done cleaning every inch of the whole apartment minus Zoro’s room. So after that, he had to figure out what else to do to help.

Next Monday, the Marimo confesses quietly over dinner that he doesn’t have anything else to wear and is gonna have to do laundry today. So, of fucking COURSE he offers to take care of it.

Duh.

Granted, the moss-ball feels weird about it, but he agrees nonetheless. He’s desperate, who can blame him. So Sanji goes to work. He uses his preferred detergent and shit, he washes like five loads of clothes (mostly sports shirts and shorts), as well as his own clothes that still smell like smoke.

He does it on the laundromat near the restaurant so he can go back and forth to check on everything. At the end of the day, he grabs at least five trash bags of clothes (only one of which is his) and hauls them back to Zoro’s place.

One by one, he neatly folds every piece he finds. It’s intriguing, even, because the clothes still smell distinctly of Zoro . Odd. Maybe he uses a really strong cologne or something. It’s nice…

“Have you seen some red shorts with a black stripe down the—“ the Marimo approaches him that same night.

With a smile, Sanji redirects him, “Second pile from the left”.

Grabbing them, he nods his thanks and stares down at the piles upon piles of folded clothes. “How come I never have enough clothes?” he mutters, mostly to himself.

Regardless, the cook chimes in, “Probably because you’re a slob that doesn’t do laundry? Just a guess though” he deadpans, aiming for it to be read as lighthearted banter.

Zoro doesn’t reply then, just brings the shorts up to sniff them. “They smell like you” he mumbles.

Really? And here he thought the moss-ball wouldn’t notice. “Used the same detergent, sorry” he shrugs, not really all that sorry. It’s the best fucking detergent in the market, he’ll die on that hill.

Shaking his head, the Marimo shrugs, “It’s fine”. Still staring down at his shorts, the man walks away without another word.

The door closing doesn’t even faze him anymore. He knows Zoro values his privacy more than anything.

Days after that… then he made a tiny mistake.

See, most of his clothes are still in his apartment. The one being rebuilt. The one without a wall. He just came to the moss-ball’s place with essentials. Ties, shirts, a couple blazers, a few slacks. A good pair of shoes. That’s it.

He didn’t count on a rainy day to turn into a hail storm that he had to endure all the way back to the apartment because he didn’t have an umbrella. Fuck, Sanji was freezing by the time he stumbled in the apartment.

He showered, tried to change into the only sweatpants and shirt he brought, but he was still shivering like crazy. So he did the unthinkable…

Sanji stole a hoodie.

He figured he could just use it ‘til the cold subsided and then he’d put it in the hamper. Nobody had to know. Except he fell asleep quickly after making himself dinner… and Zoro found him in the living room couch, curled up in a ball, using the damned hoodie.

Waking up an hour and a half later, he opens his eyes to find the Marimo on the loveseat, flipping through channels to find something vaguely interesting to watch.

Just as the moss-ball stops on ‘Hell’s kitchen’, Sanji leans up, being reminded immediately of the goddamned hoodie. He launches into an apologetic rant without even thinking, “Shit- I- Sorry, I didn’t mean- I was just really cold- I should’ve fucking asked, I know I crossed a line-“

Zoro doesn’t even look away from the tv. Apparently too engrossed with Ramsey yelling at some poor woman about some sauce. “Keep it” is all he says.

“What?”

He didn’t hear correctly. Surely he didn’t. But Zoro reiterates, “Keep it”. Sanji can only blink, dumbfounded. “You saw I have a billion of those, I don’t need it. Keep it”.

The cook sighs in relief, staring unabashedly at the moss-ball, not knowing what to think about this.

On his part, the Marimo was frowning at the tv, “Is this real?”

Sanji turns back to the show, to Ramsey red in the face and screaming his throat raw, and shrugs, “Eh…” Zeff honestly makes Gordon look like a PG baby.

For no particular reason other than it’s been a cold few days, that hoodie becomes the only thing Sanji will wear around the apartment. It doesn’t seem to bother Zoro all that much. He keeps his pattern of 90% indifference as always.

After the hoodie incident, Sanji felt indebted yet again. Not like the Marimo was really demanding compensation, the man would probably be better off if he just shut up for the next three weeks. But that’s not who Sanji is.

So next time he’s doing meal prep for his neighbor and himself… he makes extra meals. Coincidentally, all the dishes he makes for those first three days are rice-centric and include stuff he knows for a fact Zoro likes.

How does he know? Well, he’s cooked for everyone’s preferences on quite a few occasions. Birthdays, celebrations, holidays… it’s not like he’s a stalker. He just remembers stuff like this.

Anyways, he leaves a bento for the moss-ball on the kitchen counter, hoping to god that moron actually saw it and ate it.

For a change, that night Mossy did comment on it, when they were both making dinner for themselves. “I told you I’d make my own damned food”.

He had a perfect explanation, “And I told you I did meal prep. For me and my neighbor lady. I just made a little too much is all” he lies flawlessly.

“Really?” Zoro deadpans, “The guy that works as a sous chef in a restaurant suddenly forgot to properly measure the food for the meals he was making?”

Well… “So what?” he shoots back, defensively.

The only reply he gets is a scoff, as Zoro turns with his bowl of plain fucking rice and heads back to his room.

Again, there was no ‘Stop doing it, I don’t want your food, I hate you’. Which, in the Marimo world was to be considered as a bright and big green light.

It was all going pretty well so far…

So far, despite the unwanted gestures, Sanji was mostly keeping to himself. He worked from the ass crack ‘o dawn to nearly about ten, and then he cooked for himself and/or did meal prep for the next few days from ten to midnight.

He had little time to actually hang out or be a bother aside from that.

That is, until he ran into a little bit of a problem.

“It’s non-negotiable kid” Zeff grumbles, closing up the restaurant. THEIR restaurant. That they founded TOGETHER. Even if Sanji was only ten, it still fucking counts. He cleaned up that place until it was pristine from day 1.

Which is why this conversation was infuriating. “Non-negotiable?! You can’t do this, you piece of shit, I make my own choices!”

“Fine. Then make your own choice. Either take the week off like you should every year and you somehow never do, or I’ll treat you like the real adult you want so desperately to be and I’ll demote you for contradicting a direct order from boss” the old man states matter-of-factly.

A whole week?! “Why are you even forcing me to take it right now?!”

Zeff turns to him, meeting his eyes with an expression that screamed ‘really?’. “Eggplant, you were in a fucking fire. Your head nearly caught on goddamned fire! You had to be in the hospital for observation for 24 hours from the amount of smoke you inhaled because you decided to play hero! You threw up like eleven times and you could barely see when I was called to the hospital!”

The cook wanted to argue, he really did. But that wasn’t his boss talking. That was his dad… and he sounded more concerned and frantic than authoritative and vindictive. “I’m fine, old man, I’m here! I wanna work, doesn’t that tell you something?”

“It tells me you’re anxious ” Zeff spits back, “And before you even deny it, I’ve been keeping an eye on you, kid, I know you! Your hands are shaking every so often, you’ve been smoking twice what you were, you’re barely sleeping because you’re doing chores over at Marimo’s place because you feel guilty about taking up space, you’re barely talking in the kitchen, and you’ve been depressed for months to boot!”

Woah! Where did that come from?! “I’m not fucking depressed!”

Narrowing his eyes, the old geezer confronts him, “Then explain why my son, the one that swore he couldn’t live without a woman, hasn’t even dated for the past six months?”

Sanji tries to minimize, “It has not been six months, you’re exaggerating”.

“Something changed on your birthday, kid. I don’t know what it was… at first I thought you were actually in love for once and you were just confused. Like a little lamb that just had to learn how to walk on its own. But then nothing happened” Zeff sighs, “For six months. So what am I supposed to think?”

Sad thing is, he can’t even deny that shift. He felt it, too. And up until this point, he has no idea what it is… he, too, thought he was in love with somebody but he couldn’t figure out who. He doesn’t feel depressed, but the old man could be right. “If I’m depressed, the last thing I need is an excuse to do nothing” he weakly argues.

Shaking his head, his old man patted his shoulder, “It’s an excuse to rest. It’s different. You wouldn’t know because you don’t know what ‘rest’ fucking means” he jokes.

Smiling small, Sanji sighs, “You’re an asshole for doing this. My work has been the same as always, and you know it”.

“I know it” Zeff nods, “But if you keep this up, there’s gonna come a point where it won’t be. And I’d rather not lose my best sous chef to exhaustion. This is a business move”.

Business move his ass. “Zoro’s gonna hate me being all over his space now…” he sighs.

The old geezer knows the Marimo well enough. They hit it off on some event they had at the restaurant over beers and street fights. As in, the street fights they’ve won. Idiots. That’s what they have in common, they’re idiots.

Smirking, Zeff adds, “I’m surprised he even let you in his apartment, not gonna lie”. They both light up a cigarette as they walk back, “If you’re a neat freak, that kid is a privacy freak”. Right? It was still a mystery how it came to be. “I’m surprised you didn’t just ask to live with me for a month” he concludes.

That’s the little detail he hadn’t told anybody. He’d been about to call up his dad for a place to live for a while when Nami called with the Marimo’s offer. And between those two… Zoro’s sounded more interesting. It’s not that he didn’t have anywhere to go, per se, it’s just that going back to his dad’s house felt pathetic.

Plus, Zeff had some strict and frankly ridiculous rules that Sanji refused to follow. Like waking up at 4 in the morning to shower with COLD FUCKING WATER. It was savage.

If he became too much of a bother for the Marimo of course he’d ask his dad, but he’d lose his freedom and dignity in the process. Temporarily, of course, but still.

“If he kicks me out, I’ll show up at your door” Sanji smirks. It wouldn’t be so far-fetched. Especially now that he’d be all day every day in Zoro’s space.

Those first two days of paid leave? Frankly great. Zoro worked long hours, too, but they coincided in some key moments of the day. At breakfast, for example, Sanji was there to whip up something, insisting it wasn’t too much trouble.

When the Marimo came in to change clothes or pack something else for his martial arts training, the cook was there asking if he’d eaten, offering cold bottles of water and stuff… you know, to be considerate.

And at night, Sanji finally caught the moss-ball in his habitat: watching weird documentaries on the most bizarre shit in the world while eating dinner. It was such a mundane routine, but to the cook, it was fascinating to be able to see this. To be a part of this world for a little bit.

On his free time, he took to snooping around, finding little nuggets of information he felt really proud of knowing for some reason. Like the picture hidden behind all the other ones, showing him as a child with make up on, and his sister cackling beside him. Little trophies of participation for the Marimo’s first martial arts competitions, where he didn’t exactly do all that well.

A photo of Kuina, Zoro’s best friend who died mysteriously in high school. Sanji had only ever heard of her. She was such a pretty kid…

Eventually, he ran out of things to snoop and went to the tv. There, he discovered that not only did the Marimo watch weirdo documentaries, but he also watched the sports channel (obviously), the occasional cooking show (which was so funny) and… a rom-com?! That’s gold!

It’s actually kind of adorable… in a friendly way, obviously, but still.

When he wasn’t snooping or cooking, he was cleaning or watching tv. It was honestly quite restful. He realized he maybe needed the rest more than he wanted to admit. It was a breath of fresh air, for sure.

And whenever the Marimo came in and they interacted, it was nice for a change. Not ‘nice’ like polite, but ‘nice’ like funny. Comfortable. Like their usual dynamic but with added lightheartedness. It felt great.

That is, until that fourth day. Zoro came home to find the cook in the kitchen, as always. Instead of the usual silence, though, Sanji simply decided to go, “Hey! How’d it go?”

Apparently, the question itself was offensive or something. Because it prompted Zoro to freeze mid-step, blink a couple times, and then beeline to his room without another word.

Granted, it’s not the first time it happens, the moss-ball has done this a few times in the nearly two weeks they’ve been living together. And to be frank? It’s starting to sting a little.

Sanji’s aware they’re not besties but he considers Zoro a good friend that could be more if only he stopped being so paranoid!

…He means ‘more’ as in, a best friend. Obviously. 

The truth is, he respects the shit out of that cactus. He has weird ways to show it, sure, but he never expected Zoro to really be so bothered with his mere presence. The man even refused to eat all day.

His confusion and indignation simmer for a good hour and a half before he makes up his mind.

Sanji’s had enough, so he goes and slams on Zoro’s door, until the bastard comes out. “We’re going for coffee” he states.

It’s not a question. It’s an order.

Of course, the Marimo tries to get out of it, rolling his eyes and doing his usual, “I don’t have time for this, I—“

But the cook was no stranger to blackmail. All he had to do was show the picture with mini Zoro miserable and crying with clown make up on, “I’ll make it my goddamned profile pic on everything”.

Zoro works his jaw for a moment and then slams the door on his face. He’d been about to slam his fist against it again, when it opened. The Marimo was ready to go.

The conversation in the coffee shop (neutral ground) was brief, but surprisingly successful. “It’s two, maybe even three more weeks ‘til I can get out of your hair” Sanji announces, “So you need to tell me what I’m doing that’s pissing you off so I can stop. ‘Cause if you kick me out before the time’s up I’m gonna be fucked”.

Maybe he exaggerated there a little. For effect.

Sighing, the moss-ball shakes his head, “I’m not pissed, you fucking moron”. Kinda feels like he is, though, what with the ‘fucking moron’ of it all. “I just…” he hesitates before settling with, “I don’t like other people in my space”.

Well, “Duh”. Sanji still presses, “Just tell me how to not be on your space as much”.

Instead, Zoro offers, “I’ll just tone it down”. At the cook’s confused expression, he clarifies, “I’ll be less of an asshole about it, okay? That’s it. I actually wanted to help your sorry ass, believe it or not”.

The cook can believe it. When he wants to, this idiot can be incredibly considerate. He’s heard from Luffy, Chopper and Nami all the times Zoro has been incredibly selfless and kind. It’s no surprise. Not in the least.

“Believe it or not, I get I’m invading your space, too. I’ve been a little annoying” he admits, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I can tone it down, too”.

The Marimo doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t really seem happy about the offer. He just nods. “Deal”.

“Good” Sanji smiles awkwardly, “Tell me if I do anything else that crosses a line”.

“You’re not crossing any lines” Zoro insists. Caressing his cup with his thumbs, he sighs again, “You don’t have to do any of that shit, you know that right? I don’t need you cleaning or cooking or doing laundry”.

Feeling his cheeks redden inexplicably, he chuckles with nervous shakiness, “I wanted to do all that… but I get it’s kinda weird”.

Instead of denying it again, or being a decent fucking human, the Marimo snorts, “Not that you’ve ever been normal, but yeah”.

“Like you’re one to talk!” Sanji shrieks back.

And the world is back in balance.

Third week, Sanji’s back to work. No more awkward run-ins at odd times, or intruding in the Marimo’s routine… he kind of misses it a little. But it’s fine. He probably just misses the free time.

They’re not talking all that much, not having deep conversations or anything, but the banter is flowing, and it’s fun and exciting whenever it happens.

Another important development is that Zoro has taken to actually thanking him for the shit he does. For example, the cook never stopped making bentos for them both, but now whenever they both met to cook dinner for themselves, the Marimo would mutter a ‘thanks for the bento’ or ‘thanks for earlier’ or just ‘thanks’.

That’s the first gesture that absolutely gets the blonde’s hopes up that something’s shifting between them.

Then, they have their friends over for no particular reason other than most of them haven’t seen Zoro’s apartment either and want to see it. Nearing the end, he accidentally overheard a bit of a conversation between Zoro and Robin, who had gone to his room to put little Olivia down for her nap.

“-wanted to ask how everything was going. We’re overdue for our usual bi-monthly dinner” Robin says quietly.

The Marimo chuckles, “You have a whole ass kid, and you’re still worrying about that shit?” There’s a bit of silence, in which Sanji can only guess there was some intense staring, and then, “It’s going… surprisingly well”.

Those two words, ‘surprisingly well’, pour over him like… something that feels nice if it’s poured over you, he has no idea, but it feels fucking amazing. The words make his heart race, he can’t stop smiling the rest of the night.

It’s not just going ‘okay’ or ‘well enough’. It’s fucking SURPRISING how WELL it’s going! Fuck yeah! He knew he and Zoro could be friends, he just had to find that balance.

…Sure, it may not be the deep conversations and outings that he’d hoped for, for some stupid reason, but it was progress! Huge progress!

That fourth week… Sanji starts going overboard again. In stuff he hopes isn’t overstepping any boundaries. He’s just… that’s who he is. He does a million acts of service for the people he lo- for his friends.

It’s nothing fancy. One night, Zoro comments offhandedly he misses the steak from some restaurant he used order from a lot before he started trying to cook his own meals. So Sanji goes to the place and… he sits down. Asks for the steak that looks closest to what the Marimo described and takes it to go.

He tries it first. And as soon as he does, he smirks to himself. The cook knows for a fact he can do so much better than this. So he buys the ingredients. All of them. He even begs Zeff to let him take a couple pieces of the Wagyu beef they reserve for costumers that know their shit and what to ask for.

He gets it, though, and he gets to work as soon as he gets home. To the apartment, is what he meant. He gets to the apartment . That’s not his.

Anyways, he meticulously cooks the shit out of that wagyu beef, and Zoro comes in just in time to watch him plate it. This time, when the questions came, he was prepared. “What the hell…?”

“Zeff had this meat leftover and I didn’t want it going to waste” he shrugs with practiced nonchalance, “You want the other one?”

The Marimo just drops his backpack haphazardly on the floor and approaches the counter, nodding with eager eyes. When he tried it, the way his eyes rolled back was everything Sanji wanted and more. Not in a creepy way, just… he felt proud of his creation. That’s it.

“You know what this tastes like?” Zoro comments offhandedly, “Remember that place I told you about? The one I used to order from a lot?” The cook nods curiously, deserving some kind of prize for his performance, “It’s so similar…”

Sanji half concedes with a tilt of his head, “But better. That’s wagyu beef, Mossy. Best of the best. And I prepared it, which means it’s perfect” he teases.

“You wish” the moss-ball laughs.

After that, a lot of little gestures started coming. Buying painkillers at the pharmacy unprompted ‘cause he overheard the Marimo complaining about is foot. Another day Zoro complains about needing to get drunk, so Sanji not-so-subtly gets some rice wine on his way to the apartment.

That Friday is a national holiday, and again, Zeff forces the cook to not work, threatening to shut down the whole restaurant that day if he has to. Instead of being difficult again, he takes it and asks to tag along for Zoro’s early training at the gym.

On their way out of the gym, after a frankly great and fun training session together, a girl stops Sanji and shyly asks for his number. She’s beautiful, blonde, green eyes, freckles over her nose… but instead of the usual wave of love, he feels just sympathy.

He turns her down as easy as he can, showering her with compliments regardless, and telling her she can do a lot better. Despite insistence, though, he refuses to give out his number. And when asked why… he tells her “I’m… not available right now” with an apologetic half smile.

‘Not available’. Not sure what the hell that means, but sure. He’s not available. He’s probably depressed enough that availability is the least of his damned problems.

It had all been going so well, but that drive home is excruciating. The silence truly torments him. Sanji worries that maybe the Marimo liked this girl or something, had his eye on her for a while, and wonders if maybe he should tell him he has a shot… but he decides against it.

That girl can find someone else… anyone else. It doesn’t have to be Zoro.

Trying to ease the tension from the drive to the apartment, Sanji offers to make himself scarce and give the moss-ball some space after he just took over his morning. With a nod, the green-haired man returns to his room and slams the door again.

Without meaning to, truly, the blonde overhears Zoro talking to someone over the phone. He doesn’t stay to figure out specifics, but he can make out Robin’s sweet calming voice saying “Maybe it’s not what you think”.

Regardless, he promised Mossy he’d get his space, so Sanji holes up in the room for the rest of the day. And the rest of the weekend, for good measure.

It’s hard for him to admit shit like this, but he feels genuinely sad. And he can’t understand why.

Fifth and last week. It’s kinda sad, isn’t it? They’ve lived together for a month and the only real progress there has been is that Zoro can sometimes tolerate him for more than a couple hours. Sometimes.

He tries not to let it affect him, but Zeff lets him know he’s doing a mediocre job at that. “Stop complaining about that Zucchini guy! We get it, he’s an ass! So are you! You two are meant to be as far as I’m concerned”. The anger was maybe a little warranted. It wasn’t even noon and he had every cook in his vicinity exhausted with his rants.

Sanji huffs, but he can’t decide if he’s surprised or angry or both at that comment.

He brushes it off.

Regardless, that Monday, he did something a little different. Over Zoro’s bento, he left a note. Simple. Short. To the point. “Just one more week and I’m out of your hair”.

That afternoon, he gets a text from Zoro:

>> Believe it or not, I’m not counting the days for you to leave.

>> Take however long you need

Yeah, right. Sanji doesn’t believe him. The next two days they don’t talk much. At night, they always meet in the kitchen, chat idly while they eat, banter a little, laugh and even exchange stories… but it feels like such a minuscule part of both their days.

It’s embarrassing that the cook sort of looks forward to it every night.

Wednesday night he comes in early to find Zoro and Nami drinking. Luffy’s passed out on the floor.

These three like getting together to drink ever since they were in college. The Marimo and Nami-san can drink and drink without much issue, and Luffy just likes the company and the snacks. Sanji’s been invited a few times but the sad truth is, he’s a lightweight. So he’s decided to stay away from those gatherings.

Especially because Nami-san absolutely adores to coerce him into drinking. And he can’t say no to a woman.

Sanji feels weird interrupting this time, though, since he wasn’t exactly invited. So he tries to get away and go to his room quickly but Luffy loudly invites him to have a drink and make them something to eat.

He can resist a lot of things, but not a hungry crew. So he makes a few things he hopes will serve as finger foods and while they wait for everything to be over, Nami-san predictably ropes him into a drinking game that ends up with Sanji getting really tipsy.

Thankfully, Mossy interrupts to say they should watch the movie Luffy wanted to watch or something. And so they do.

Nami-san and Luffy end up passed out on the bigger couch, smushed against each other haphazardly. A little tipsy, the cook had decided that sitting on the floor beside the Marimo was way better than sitting on the completely empty loveseat.

There, he and Zoro talk quietly. Criticizing the movie, laughing about costumes and special effects that look like they were rendered by a child… it’s a good time.

As the movie progresses, the tipsiness and his exhaustion mix together and before he knows it, he falls asleep… leaning sideways to lay his head on the moss-ball’s shoulder.

Next morning, he would have a vague memory as he was waking up, of bits and pieces of a conversation.

“Don’t! Don’t wake him up!” said Zoro from beside him.

“I’m not! It’s just a pic!” Nami chuckles.

“He’s passed out for real… you don’t think he wants to make me something cookies?” Luffy chimes in, concerned about his bottomless pit of a stomach.

Zoro sighs, “He has work tomorrow, dumbass, he wakes up at the ass crack of dawn!”

He can’t exactly remember what comes next. But another piece of the conversation starts much the same.

“Yes! The guy works like a madman and he still has enough presence of mind to twirl all over you, at least cut him some slack!” Zoro demands.

Nami-san giggles quietly, “Hmm… you jealous?”

“Just go!”

After a moment, Nami-san sighs, “Take him to bed! You can carry him just fine!”

Yeah. He could be carried to his bed. That would be great, actually. “No!” Zoro cuts in, “He’s- he’s gonna be disgusted that I touched him like that!”

All Sanji can think is ‘ why would I be disgusted if he picked me up?’ On the contrary, to his tipsy mind, it sounded really nice… being picked up, dumped on Zoro’s bed, and going to sleep nice and cozy…

When he finally opens his eyes the next morning, after analyzing a few times those pieces of conversation he overheard, he realizes maybe they were actually memories.

‘Cause Zoro didn’t move him at all. Hell, the athlete didn’t even move himself. He slept right there. On the floor. His neck at some weird uncomfortable angle… just because he didn’t want to touch him? That’s… odd.

That sensation in his chest, he channels it into an awesome breakfast and wakes up everyone to a spread and a half. Luffy loves it and Nami is super grateful but the Marimo himself seems… upset. Probably because he had to sleep on the floor because of Sanji.

But seeing the bastard so uncomfortable with the situation, Sanji has no idea how to bring it up and apologize, so he doesn’t. He simply tries to offer the meal he made, and hopes his tipsy idiocy won’t be what breaks their precarious balance.

What is he supposed to say, though?

He doesn’t have time to even think it, because the moss-ball reminds him of what time it is and Sanji runs to get ready and leave. In his hurriedness, he side hugs Nami goodbye, he pats Luffy’s head, and he softly caresses Zoro’s back.

The man seems to tense.

Freaking out, Sanji just leaves in a hurry. Why the fuck did he do that?! He’s just making things way worse!

He gets the call he’d been fearing all along.

Those construction guys are gonna need three additional weeks to finish the job. A part of him is relieved that he doesn’t have to leave yet, but another part… is wary.

See, these past few weeks have done nothing to solidify a clear dynamic between them. Or any closeness at all. If anything, it’s been made EXTREMELY obvious that the only one in their group to not have that level of closeness with Zoro is… the cook.

And that means, it’s not getting any easier for the Marimo to share his space with a guy he doesn’t really like. Sure, it’s not as tense as it used to be… they’ve played video games a couple times, they chat for at least half an hour over dinner, they’re up to date with what’s happening in each other’s lives… but that doesn’t mean Zoro’s just fine with the arrangement.

He freezes up a lot, he gets so mad he stops talking, or just gets really red in the face, he uses his room as his Sanji-free bunker…

So the cook decides he needs to sit the moss-ball down and talk about this. Like adults. That night, the blonde greets the Marimo as usual, and as soon as they’ve sat down to eat, he clears his throat.

Before he can say anything, though, Zoro sighs, “It’s time to move back, then?”

Sanji deflates, mostly because he’s just confused at the way the moss-ball said it so glumly. “Actually, uh… they called earlier today. It’s gonna be three more weeks. Supposedly. Could be more, I have no idea” he explains, looking down.

“Oh…”

“Either way” he pushes on with a shrug, “I asked you to keep me here ‘til Sunday, so… I’ll go someplace else”. He meant it as a reassurance, but it came out flat and detached.

Shocked at the offer, Zoro clarifies, “You don’t have to—“

Shaking his head, Sanji tramples on, “I really don’t wanna be in your business any longer than I need to, so…”

At this, Zoro seems to sober up a little, and his shoulders tense. Looking down at his plate, he states, “You can stay however long you need. The room’s still gonna be vacant anyway”.

Shit. That’s great!

Except, as soon as the words leave his mouth, Zoro takes his plate straight to the fridge, leaves it there and retires to his room without another word.

So… not great?

It’s a mystery.

Sanji doesn’t see Zoro for three days .

He still doesn’t understand what he did wrong. But he figures he’s asked for too much already. Maybe he’s overstaying his welcome.  Maybe he overstayed his welcome from day one…

On Sunday, he videocalls Nami and Robin to ask for advice. He doesn’t tell them the whole story, but he tells most of it. Robin hums and frowns, but she doesn’t say much. She probably has the inside info on what’s going on, but she wouldn’t go as far as to divulging all of that.

Nami-san on her part, seems o think Zoro’s just having ‘ a little trouble communicating how he really feels’ . They never quite explain what gave them that idea, so he’s left to interpret that as he sees fit.

Sanji figures this means the Marimo has some issues he still hasn’t brought up so he gets up and, with a steadying breath, knock’s on Zoro’s door.

Mossy comes out dressed in only shorts.  Sanji looks away, feeling his heart hammer wildly, and asks to meet in the living room in a minute. With clothes on. Please.

Zoro sighs, slams his door, gets dressed and comes out.

“Listen—“ he starts as soon as the moss-ball is seated. “I never meant to overstay my welcome, and least of all piss you off. I know it’s enough to have me in your space and I swear to fuck all I’ve tried to be is helpful-“

He cuts himself off, noticing the way Zoro works his jaw, like he’s genuinely containing anger. Where is all this coming from?! What the hell?!

He stammers lightly before continuing, “But even if it’s just me breathing that you somehow find a problem with, I kinda need you to fucking tell me what the fuck’s wrong! Okay?! I need to know”.

“Nothing’s wrong” the Marimo assures, forcing his face to relax and appear somewhat convincing. “I’m fine. It’s fine if you stay here, I already told you”. With that, he stands up, ready to abandoned the conversation altogether.

Seriously?! “Sit back down!” Sanji demands angrily, startling both of them.

“Cook…” Zoro sighs, sitting back down, “I don’t wanna make this worse”.

Make what worse?! “Just talk about it! What’s so hard about that?!”

“What’s there to talk about?!” the Marimo retorts, “I’m not pissed, I told you!”

Sanji scoffs, “What the hell’s got you so pissed off, for one! If you don’t want me here just say so and I’ll leave! I offered to leave, remember?! You think I don’t notice how much you want me out of here?! I do! It’s why I told you—“

“FINE!” Zoro finally says, voice booming loudly. He stands up again, “You know what?! Fine. You said you wanted to get out of my business’s as quick as possible, right? So just leave! Who’s stopping you?!” The words just stun the cook into silence. Shaking his head, the athlete mutters under his breath, “What should I care anyway?”.

A little anxious and frantic, Sanji calls “Zoro—!” but the door slams closed once again. The conversation is over.

And just like that, the dream that lasted a couple weeks, of having company in the kitchen and playing videogames and talking about nonsense with someone he’s wanted as one of his closest friends for years… vanished. Poof. Not only that, Zoro seemed like he never wanted to see Sanji again.

Maybe he should’ve never accepted this offer. It’s just… He knew Zoro acted like he hated the cook but he never really considered it could be for real.

Why is it hurting ?

———

The next day, he moved out.

It shouldn’t have been such a big deal, honestly. He could’ve just gotten out of Zoro’s hair that same Sunday without any of this nonsense.

He left when he was supposed to. Which is why he has no idea why he feels so emotional about it. This isn’t his place. This isn’t home . This is… a place he’s probably gonna see in a few months again if he’s lucky. Or never again.

Probably never again.

He moves to the restaurant quietly, and leaves a simple note over Zoro’s bento (it had been pre-prepared) for tomorrow. “I’m sorry”.

Today, at the ass crack o’ dawn, he got a text.

>> Marimo: You didn’t do anything wrong.

Right. Sure. Whatever. He didn’t believe Zoro. So he didn’t reply.

Then the texts started…

>> Marimo: Cook

>> Marimo: Did you read that?

>> Marimo: You didnt do anything wrong

>> Marimo: Stop ignoring me

>> Marimo: Oi

>> Marimo: Oi

>> Marimo: Cook

>> Marimo: Curly

>> Marimo: I was being an asshole

>> Marimo: Oi!

<< Sanji: I’m busy

>> Marimo: Did you read???

<< Sanji: Yup. Yay. Didn’t do anything wrong. I’ll go back to work

>> Marimo: You’re not getting it

<< Sanji: I’m not. ‘Cause I asked wtf was going on and you just refused to tell me

No reply for five minutes. The bastard read it. He just had nothing to say to that.

<< Sanji: You wanted me to stop bothering you.

<< Sanji: I did

<< Sanji: If you don’t need anything from me, I’m going back to work.

To Sanji’s disappointment, Zoro took the hint and stopped texting after that. Not a peep was heard from that man.

For a whole week, it’s radio silence.

That week is miserable. For some weird fucking reason, Sanji just can’t shake this sadness over what happened. He can’t even understand what that sadness is about, he’s just sad.

It’s not like they were best friends that fought, or that there was some betrayal between them. It was a petty fucking fight about something Sanji doesn’t even know about. Because that idiot Marimo keeps insisting that ‘it wasn’t his fault’.

Is the cook upset about it? Fuck yeah! He’s pissed as all fuck! He doesn’t even know why, he just is! He’s pissed that all his time over at Zoro’s felt like he was constantly walking on eggshells, trying to understand how to not breathe wrong so that he didn’t piss off his supposed friend.

The same ‘friend’ that somehow has a wholesome friendship with everyone else BUT Sanji.

The same ‘friend’ that can’t stand having him near for more than an hour or two.

The same ‘friend’ that most likely forgot his name, which is why he only uses those idiotic nicknames.

You know what? Scratch what he said before. This does feel like betrayal.

One Saturday night, after the evening rush, Zeff approaches the blonde, “Eggplant” he calls, gesturing with his neck to talk. Sanji barks off a couple more instructions and walks close, “I’ll take over for a few minutes. You got a visitor upstairs”.

Visitor? The hell?

He doesn’t get to ask any more questions, though, because Zeff jumps in straight to chastise one of their cooks for nearly burning some scallops.

Fair enough.

Taking off his hat, Sanji sighs and starts climbing up the stairs, wondering who it could be. The past few days haven’t been great for him, but he’s done his best to reassure his friends that he’s fine. That he has somewhere to crash. That it’s fine. That Zoro had his reasons.

Despite his words… if he didn’t feel depressed before, he’s starting to get a taste of that constant sadness. Maybe not depression just yet, but it’s there. It bums him out. It’s draining.

Approaching the room he’d been using before, he’s almost at the threshold when he catches a glimpse of green stupid hair. Great.

That’s just fucking great.

Sanji sighs, refusing to go past the door, “What’re you doing here?” If this isn’t to actually talk about how the blonde fucked up so much Zoro had to treat him like the scum in his shoe, then he’s not interested.

Gulping, Zoro sighs as well, keeping his eyes down. It’s weird. Usually he squares up during arguments. “I need to tell you the truth” he says, “About why… you know…”

This meek man was nothing like the Marimo he knew. But the cook wasn’t about to go easy on him, “I know. The truth about why you told me to fuck off and had me guessing for a whole month what I was doing that was so bad you didn’t even wanna see me some days”. The athlete closes his eyes, “That truth, right?”

“I wasn’t trying to kick you out” Zoro starts, hands balled in the pockets of his hoodie. The one he’d gifted to the cook. The one Sanji left back there because it wasn’t his. “I didn’t think you’d leave”.

What is this, a competition of the worst excuses in existence? “Just say what you came in here to say and leave. Please. I’m supposed to be working” he urges, a little harshly. “Whatever it is that I fucked up, I’ll fix it and you can go back to ignoring me forever”.

It’s so fucking eerie. Seeing Zoro again is simultaneously good and horrible, and his heart is two seconds away from an attack.

“You’re not gonna like it” the athlete warns. Sanji crosses his arms over his chest and shrugs, as if to say ‘try me’. “You’re really gonna hate it, actually. But at this point what the fuck else do I have to lose, right?”

That last part sounds so concerningly earnest, it throws the blonde for a loop.

Finally, Zoro starts, “The truth is, I didn’t want you in my apartment to begin with”. Gee. Shocker. ”But not for the reasons you think…” Right. There’s other more kind reasons of why you don’t want someone in your apartment? That’s bullshit. And it stings a little to confirm his suspicions. “Having you there… seeing you using my clothes and my kitchen and feeling comfy enough to laugh at your stupid videos and sing in the shower…”

Is that it? He got too comfortable? Sanji sinks his head between his shoulders, embarrassed.

“It…” he huffs, as if frustrated that the words won’t come out. “It reminded me…”

Shit, he really can’t say it. Whatever it is, he really can’t say it. Prepared to just spare him and leave it at that, Sanji lowers his arms, “Zoro, it’s—“

But the man barrels on, “I’m in love with you”.

You could hear a fucking hair falling on the ground in that silence.

“That’s why it was hard to have you around like that” Zoro breathes, seeming as if he’d had to literally vomit every last word he was saying. “I can’t fucking help it and it feels wrong , okay?! It feels like I’m doing something wrong because I know you’d hate it. Makes me feel dirty to even think it” he admits, his voice going quieter at the end there.

This is genuinely tearing him up inside.

Sanji just doesn’t know what to think. His arms go slack. He slipped from the door frame he’d been leaning against and scrambled for purchase, his eyes were wide, heart going a mile a second, and this incredible feeling washing over him from head to toe. It’s… disconcerting.

Meanwhile, Zoro is still struggling through his speech, “I can’t even touch you without feeling like I’m being a pervert somehow, I…” he trails off.

That’s why he refused to pick him up when he’d been drunk…

“I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable. I tried to keep to myself but you were taking it the wrong way. The more time we spent together the more… confused I got, so I tried to pull back whenever I felt my mind getting away from me” Zoro relays, his eyes fixed to the floor.

So those periods of being okay and then suddenly having a door slammed on his face… that was this idiot avoiding his own feelings?

Shaking his head, the athlete reminisces, “You were making me food, folding my clothes, cleaning my apartment, using my hoodies… you… I just…” he seems so ashamed and disappointed in himself. It makes Sanji want to reach out and touch. “I can’t take it”.

Oh, gods.

A shrug, and then “That’s why I got pissed and I told you to leave” he reveals, “I’m too paranoid of saying or doing the wrong thing. I can’t even be in the same room without thinking…” he clenches his eyes shut, a deep frown etched between his eyebrows. “It’s for the best”.

Sanji feels like he’s going crazy. Like this is some kind of fever-induced hallucination. That he got robbed and shot and he’s currently bleeding out on the streets, and his last thought is… this… for some reason.

“I should’ve been honest upfront… I really thought I could keep this under control, but…” Zoro works his jaw. Clearing his throat, he concludes, ”That’s all I came here to say. I wanted you to know it really wasn’t your fault”.

When the Marimo stops talking, Sanji searches desperately for something to say, but his mind was completely blank. He only knew what his body was telling him. He was thrilled. Scared. Anxious. Ecstatic. Nervous. Wary. Confused.

After a couple more beats of silence, Zoro sighs, “You can go back to work now” he announces and starts walking. He flies past him through the doorway and leaves the restaurant before the cook can even say a word.

Sanji’s left with his chest ripped open. He has to sit down for a minute and process what happened. From what he hears later from Zeff, it took him two whole hours to feel ready to come back down. To him, it felt like ten seconds.

He can’t believe what he just heard, and more to the point, despite being mostly straight all of his life (mostly being a key word now), he can’t believe what he’s feeling.

It’s so surprising that as soon as he heard the confession, something in him clicked. His brain went “Ah! That’s what it was! That’s what we’ve been feeling! We were in love!”.

He thought he could only fall in love with women, this had never happened! He’s suddenly in love with a GUY?! Not only that- a friend . One he’s never really thought of as ‘attractive’ in any way. His conscious mind never even saw Zoro as a prospect!

He should be freaking out right now, and maybe that’s why he’s hyperventilating… but one thing feels scarily undeniable: he really does feel the same.

He’s in love with a guy.

Sanji’s in love with Zoro .

And the most bizarre news of all, Zoro’s in love with him, too.

What the hell is he supposed to do with this information?! Ten minutes ago he would’ve said he’s not into men romantically! He would’ve admitted that yeah, he experimented a little in high school but nothing came of it. He likes women. Liked? He’s mostly into women!

How the fuck did this happen?!

A week goes by, and in light of everything he knows, not seeing Zoro feels like agony. Really. His heart has always been dramatic like that. It used to be like that only with women, but it’s no surprise that it’s acting this way now, too.

Has he gotten over the initial shock of liking Zoro? Yes and no.

No bc what the fuck. Since when?! How?! But also yes because he does remember having a few casual boyfriends as a teen, and firmly telling himself “that’s a problem for future me to figure out”.

The question the past few days isn’t so much ‘do I really like him?’ ‘cause there’s no two ways about that one. But he does wanna figure out what he wants to do. He’s never been with a man romantically . And as thrilling as a new relationship sounds, it sounds a lot more scary and complicated than his heart wants to acknowledge it is.

Until he’s sure of what he wants to do, he’s avoided saying much of anything. The cook has talked with their friends, obviously. They’re taking good care of Zoro and trying to keep him occupied as best they can. Chopper was the only one that had no filter and teared up a little talking about how devastated the athlete seemed. “He looks sad, Sanji… I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like that…”

The guilt of taking so much time is truly making him feel pressured, but he’s not about to go knock on the Marimo’s door and say ‘I think I’m in love with ya too’ and then be unable to deliver.

He’s sort of having his mini gay panic, as well as trying to understand where the hell those feelings came from.

And to that one, he finally has an answer. It was something his daddy said that ended up giving him the hint: his birthday was the turning point between his old life, and when he stopped dating around altogether.

Why his birthday? Well, because that cold day in march, they all went out to do something fun together. Luffy had the brilliant idea of going to play with paintballs, which sounded fucking baller, and so they all went.

That day, they all took their teams and tasks seriously. They were divided in two groups and shoved in a huge forest-like area. The rules were simple:  first team to have all the members shot and killed off loses.

The mistake was putting Zoro and Sanji in opposing teams. Because everyone else had already been killed off by the first hour. And yet him and the Marimo spent another hour and a half on an epic stand-off while their friends had fun on the arcade inside. It was cold, wet, and they were sweating their asses off trying to dodge bullets left and right…

But that day? That banter and the way they both kept taunting each other, teasing around with familiarity… and later when Zoro finally shot the cook right on the chest, he side-hugged him with a huge smile on his face and said, “For once, I’m glad you’re alive, Curly. That was awesome… you’re the only one that makes it interesting when we do shit like this”.

Those words hit deep. He’d always been greedy about getting Zoro’s attention, even if it was just through pissing him off, but to get a stupid compliment like that somehow broke his scale. Sanji suspects now he always had sort of a crush on Zoro, and it wasn’t until that day, that the crush evolved.

How it could all happen without is knowledge, he has no fucking clue. But it happened. It’s obvious that it happened. The minute he was allowed to ponder if he found Zoro attractive or not, a million images came to mind. As if his brain already had a folder labeled ‘Marimo’s hot as fuck’.

Thankfully, his friends haven’t pressured him for a response. None of them are even blaming him for everything that happened. But Sanji still plans on making things right. He’s saying something… when he figures out what to say.

What would he say? Well…

As one week turns to two, he tries doing what Nami-san suggests and really imagine himself doing romantic shit with Zoro. See if it’s too weird.

So he did just that. He tries to picture dates like the ones he has with women, but with a Marimo instead.

They feel awkward as fuck. Stiff. Forced. Cringe, even. Everything he’s used to doing with women he’s going out with would be so embarrassing to do with Zoro, and it’s not exactly something he even wants to do.

But… those nights they would eat together, play together, talk and laze around, when they would laugh and roll their eyes at each other… they give him that same warm fuzzy feelings he associates with dates.

And when he thinks about physical stuff… kissing, touching, caressing, and the rest… Sanji’s brain sends him into overdrive. Not in a bad way. His brain can supply a worrying amount of scenarios and images that leave him hot and fucking bothered. Maybe he can’t romance Zoro like he’s used to, but he sure as hell wants to touch. And feel. And kiss… and… the rest…

He’s bottomed a few times and goddamn, did that instinct come back in full force. So much so, he’s considered just buying a dildo.

Plus, the feelings are quite definitely there. He hasn’t been looking for a relationship right now. A part of him had wanted to stay single and be with his friends and enjoy that. Could be that the same part of him was aware he already had feelings for one of the friends he wanted to spend more time with.

And god, the more he thinks about why he would fall in love with Zoro of all people, he keeps coming up with more and more reasons. He’s steady, reliable, smart, and fucking dumb as a rock at some things too, he’s funny, sarcastic, direct, ruthless, controlled, kind when you earn it, devoted, determined, strong as all fuck… he could keep going. He has three pages of these in his journal.

Accepting all this hasn’t been so much of an issue. He knows how he feels. Feelings are there. What else can he do?! But when it comes to making decisions… he doesn’t know why it’s so hard.

He’s been going to Franky and Robin’s place quite a bit. Mostly to help with Olivia, but also to get some advice from time to time.

“I already realized I like him, I kinda do wanna do the dating stuff, going out sounds great even! Why can’t I just… do it?!” he asks, frustration threaded with his words.

Robin smiles, handing Olivia to him as she cleans up the mess on her counter, “You need to give yourself time to assimilate all this. It’s a lot of information at once” she reasons.

He smiles widely at Olivia, playing with her little fingers and bouncing her up and down, making her giggle. When he replies, though, his smile falters, “But he’s pissed and sad and shit… I just wanna tell him it’s not as one sided as he thinks”.

“Believe me, he’d rather you come back sure of what you want than anything else” she reminds him.

She’s right. He needs to do this right.

After all, if they really end up doing this, it could be risky to get into it carelessly when they share a damn friend group.

Sanji still needs to figure some things out.

He took his time.

Another week even. And when all was said and done… It clicked . Zoro was a dumb, illiterate, arrogant, selfish piece of shit. He was also infuriatingly good looking, kind, funny, talented, determined and sharp. Somehow, those two could coexist.

Sanji was intensely and persistently in love with all of it.

Looking back, it’s hard to believe he didn’t notice sooner. The pining, his desire to just be close misinterpreted as this wish to be better friends… he was such an idiot in all of this. But he’s ready. Finally.

And so, he decides that very day to go look for Zoro.

It’s not that hard, he knows where the idiot lives so he just waits after his own shift for the guy to come home.

He hears Luffy’s loud laugh coming g down the hallway and suddenly his pulse skyrockets. Shit, what if Zoro doesn’t wanna see him? What if he’s over it already? What if Sanji took too fucking long and now he missed his chance?!

As soon as they lock eyes, Zoro drops the keys he’d been playing around with and they land at Sanji’s feet. He doesn’t even try to pick them up, he just stares.

It’s as if the athlete was genuinely trying to commit Sanji’s face to memory. Like he’d forgotten and was trying to make up for lost time.

After a pregnant pause, Luffy bids them goodbye and good luck, and turns around to leave.

Aware he came here to say something, Sanji tries to push himself to just open his mouth and talk, but he can’t. Now that he’s aware of what he feels, this is ten times more intense than it was last time.

Clearing his throat, Zoro averts his gaze, like he’s ashamed he was even looking. “Did you leave something behind?” is all he asks, gesturing at the keys on the floor, “I’ll get it out for you if you want”. Sanji steps back so that the moss-ball can crouch, grab the keys and turn to his door.

Finally, the words start to stumble out, “I, uh…” fuck, how is it that he never noticed how fucking good looking Zoro was?! “I came here to talk. To you”.

Keys halt, and with the door still locked, Zoro keeps staring at the doorknob, as if frozen in place. “Talk about what?”

Looking around at the neighbor’s door a little too close for comfort, Sanji tries, “About something I don’t want other people listening into”. The Marimo is still frozen in place. “I swear it won’t take long and you can kick me out again if you want” he offers, knot in his throat.

Apparently, that was enough reassurance. Zoro sighs and lets them in.

As soon as the door is closed, the man goes to grab some rice wine and takes a few gulps as he walks back to the living room. Putting the bottle down, he sighs and sticks his hands in his pockets again. “If you came here to tell me I’m gross or to let me down easy, that’s not necessary. I got it” Zoro explains.

“No, I…” he takes a deep breath. If he wanted a sign, any sign, that he really felt as intensely for this moss-ball as he had with anyone else, or even more, he only had to notice how his heart was behaving. His actual heart. It was trying to beat out of his chest, aching to be looked at as something more than a stranger… he can’t remember the last time he nearly had a heart attack over anyone. “I needed to think about it. A lot . I needed to figure some shit out first, before I saw you again… and I did…”

Hanging his head, Zoro just looks like he’s bracing himself for a huge hit.

Gulping, Sanji continues, “When you said what you said back in Baratie, my brain kind of exploded…” he admits, “I never even imagined you felt like that. I guess I’m as oblivious as they fucking come, but… I had no idea what to say. You left and I didn’t even get a word out…” he regrets that. He regrets just staying silent.

Silent rejections a re the worst.

“Nothin’ to say to that. I get it” Mossy tries to reassure, with this resigned tone to his voice that really bothers the cook.

He huffs, “No, there is . There is something to say to that and I was fucking terrified ‘cause I wanted to say it. It was so weird. I was shitting myself…” His words seem to be having the opposite desired effect, making Zoro shift his weight, embarrassed. “But now I think I can say it” he’s just gonna go for it and hope for the best, “I, uh…” his face softens into a small smile, “I feel the same”.

Zoro blinks down at his carpet, and then he blinks again, and a couple more times. Clearly, he doesn’t understand what he just heard, so he shakes his head and closes his eyes, to try and process better, “What?”

“Somehow… I don’t even know how, ‘cause believe me, I wasn’t trying , but somehow … I, uh” he shrugs, “I think I started to like you, to… a lot…”.

The only reply he gets? Shocked silence. This is karma, isn’t it?

He tries to just keep going, explain as best he can and give this infinite moron enough time to process that yeah, somehow, his grimy ass pulled the womanizer chef.

“It’s kind of why I couldn’t get a word out back when you said it” Sanji recounts, “When you said all that shit my brain went crazy ‘cause I was sorta confused and happy but I didn’t know why…” he shrugs nervously, “I didn’t even know I felt like that! It was goin’ on for a while but I just wasn’t processing it, I guess. It was so out of left field in that moment and it wasn’t until I heard you say it that I realized…”

Zoro looks him straight in the eye, pure shock reflected on his face, “You’re not joking?” Okay, the questioning is fair enough, but he’s starting to get a little annoyed here. He didn’t ask stupid questions when it was this moss-ball’s turn to confess.

He rolls his eyes, “Obviously not, dumbass, why the hell would I joke about this?!” Seriously, he’s not that fucking heartless.

Still, the Marimo couldn’t believe his eyes and ears, apparently, “But you’re straight”.

Complicated statement, Sanji’s not even sure what he is anymore. “I’m… not as straight as I thought I was…” he chuckles, “Apparently I experimented in high school a few times for a reason, go figure”. But the question is valid. Usopp was the one to open his eyes to the fact that in the queer world, getting with a hetero that just wants to experiment is a sure-fire way to break your own heart. “I’m not experimenting here, though” he states with certainty, “I actually fell in love with you”.

Zoro huffs, “You just found out you’re not as straight as you thought you were, and… what? You’re not even freaking out?”

Oh, that? “I came back three weeks later, dipshit, the fuck do you think I’ve been doing?!” It definitely wasn’t a walk in the park to wait all this time just to stop having anxiety attacks from thinking about this idiot moss-ball. “I still feel what I feel, and I’m done freaking out about it” he reassures for good measure.

“So…” the Marimo tries to close his eyes to understand, “So you actually feel the same? And you’re telling me… why? To make me feel better?”

Feel better? Fuck that. “I was kinda hoping for a little more than that” he huffs.

Finally, fucking finally , Zoro’s face breaks into a huge grin, “More than that?”

“Yeah, whatever” he shrugs, his blush undeniable, “I guess we could go out sometime… see how it goes. Depends on how much you disappoint on a first date” he teases. “I-I mean, if that’s what you…”

Zoro chuckles breathlessly, “Shit!”

What does that mean? Is that a good thing? A bad thing? “I know, I know… I’m awesome and unpredictable, get with the program already, you’re processing way slower than I anticipated” he jokes.

The nerves were killing Sanji. “So what now?” the Marimo asks, hands twitching with desire to do something.

“Dunno…” he shrugs, “I still don’t have an apartment, so I have no fucking clue. But I guess you could—”

On impulse, Zoro starts walking and swiftly cups Sanji’s face, both hands hesitant and barely there. Their breaths intermingled and slowly but surely, the moss-ball breached those last few inches to kiss him. Just once. Probably to see how Sanji reacted.

In response, he clung to the idiot’s coat and then hooked his arms around the Marimo’s waist, continuing the kiss with a little more heat.

By ‘a little’ he means a hunger like he’s never felt before.

As they part, Zoro huffs a quiet laugh between them, refusing to let go of the cook’s cheeks.

“Shit…” Sanji pants softly, “I wanted to do that a lot more than I thought”.

Mossy smirked, “I knew you’d be a desperate horny bastard”.

The familiar jab started a fire somewhere deep in the cook’s gut. “Why did that make me wanna kiss you more?! What the fuck is going on?!”

When Zoro leans in again, they get lost in that make out for a while .

The day finally comes that Sanji’s place is ready to move back in again. For once, he and the Marimo are BOTH bummed by that.

But as Franky and Brook insisted on saying every two seconds, moving in together from the get go was risky. Too risky. Even for friends of years. So Sanji did end up leaving and Zoro helped move him back in.

They’d just finished up the move in and they were chilling on the couch, waiting for some pizza to arrive. As was usual nowadays, they were fighting about something stupid, and it ended up with Zoro pinching the cook’s side.

In retaliation, the Marimo was hit with a rolled up magazine, “OI! Bad dog!” Sanji exclaims.

Like the drama queen he is, the moss-ball stands up, “That’s it, I’m getting the fuck outta here”.

“Like hell you are, we ordered pizza!” the blonde reminds him.

Thinking it over for a second, Zoro flops back down on the couch, ”I’m leaving after the pizza” .

Yeah, right. “We were gonna see if my doorframe could take that pull up bar thingie you couldn’t install at your place”. It’s the only way he can think of to keep the idiot occupied for a little while.

“Oh yeah…” Mossy remembers, “Where’s that one?”

Sanji sighs, walking to inspect the doorframe to his room, “Box that says ‘Zoro’s stupid shit’”. That is actually one of the boxes he brought back. It has assorted shit the moss-ball didn’t have a use for in his apartment. Wanna know what else is in there? Ya guessed it: the hoodie.

“Can you believe that? Couple months ago you were straight, and now I have a box and everything” Zoro teases.

Watching the idiot walk away, Sanji snorts, “Only ‘cause you have so much junk that I wanted to steal, don’t get your hopes up”. The hopes should be VERY up, though, because it’s only been two weeks, and the cook is, as they say, smitten. Head over heels.

And it helped that everyone else around him sort of shrugged it off. His friends already knew and were relieved to not be in the middle of the drama, so to speak. While Zeff’s reaction was “Ooooohh… yeah, that makes sense”.

So now here he was, watching his almost-boyfriend do pull ups on this contraption that was grabbing onto his doorframe. Why he thought it was necessary to do more than three, is beyond the cook. Maybe he’s showing off a little.

By the way Sanji’s eyes seem to be stubbornly returning to fixate on Zoro’s abs as they flex under his skin tight tank top… maybe it’s working. Muscles have always been a turn on for him, and perhaps that was another sign right there that he wasn’t all that straight.

“I didn’t even remember what your apartment looked like” Zoro says between pull ups.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Sanji asks, “When’s the last time you were even around?”

After a moment of thought, the moss-ball replies a strained, “Maybe a year?” The reply stuns the cook.

“A year?!” What the hell?! “But I always invite everyone over for food at least once a month!” Although now that he thinks about it, this idiot was always conspicuously absent.

Another pull up and a strained, “I know”.

What the hell?! “And what?! Too good for my fucking food asshole?!”

Rolling his eyes, Zoro sighs, “I just didn’t wanna find a girl’s phone number every two inches, or a heel that wasn’t yours, or shit your latest girlfriend left behind…” he says, trying not to sound bitter and failing somewhat. Sanji blinks at him in confused silence. “Kinda sucked for me”

Wait a minute, if Zoro has been avoiding his place for a year because of this, then that means… he’s been feeling all this for a whole year! Even before his birthday! And he’d been trying to keep his distance as best he could… “Marimo-“

The doorbell rings and Zoro jumps down to go get it. Seizing his chance to, because Sanji’s distracted, he pays for it. Beelining for the couch, he flops on it with a groan, “I don’t think this is gonna be enough, I’m starving”.

Distractedly, Sanji offers an automatic, “I’ll make you something else later…” He goes for plates and napkins but his mind is still processing. Was it really that bad? Was he being an asshole not noticing the signs? When he comes back to the couch, he has to ask, “You’re exaggerating, right?”

Zoro scoffs, ”I’m actually starving, Curly, I haven’t eaten all day!”

“No-“ he huffs in frustration, “About the finding some girl’s stuff every two inches!”

Sensing he got in tricky territory, the Marimo is quick to dismiss it, “Sure. I’m exaggerating. Anyway, what do you wanna watch?” he asks, grabbing the remote.

Snatching that same remote from his hands, Sanji insists, “You know you’re exaggerating!”

The scowl he gets is of epic proportions, “What does it matter?! Gimme the-“ he tries to reach for the remote and they struggle a little for it, ending up horizontal on the couch, Sanji underneath trying to keep the remote out of reach.

“Admit it! I’m not a fucking whore, you bastard!” the cook demands.

Frustrated, the Marimo huffs, “I didn’t say you were one! I said it sucked to see! ‘Cause it fucking did!”

Fine, “But it wasn’t even all that much stuff!” If it really was that much stuff then… then it must’ve really bothered the Marimo to come around…

“You say that ‘cause you don’t even remember” Zoro argues, getting a hold of the remote and struggling for it, “All your girl stuff got burned or whatever!”

“There wasn’t any girl stuff, dipshit! I haven’t gone on a date for months!” Sanji retorts.

Disbelieving, Zoro rolls his eyes, “That’s bullshit!”

“No it’s not!”

Grabbing both of Sanji’s wrists and pinning them to the couch, the moss-ball questions, “Why would you stop dating?! You’re the Cook, that’s your whole personality!”

It’s not that easy to know the answer! “I don’t know!” the cook tries to kick Zoro off, “It’s been months that I don’t feel like it!”

“That’s not true!”

Sanji scoffs, “Yes it is! I haven’t gone out with anyone since before my birthday! It’s October! Ask anybody!” Nami-san sure as hell knew about his little dry season.

Confused and pointing, Zoro mutters, “That doesn’t make any sense…” Eyes studying the blonde’s face, he explains, “You agreed to date a guy all of a fucking sudden, Curly. You’re saying you stopped feeling like dating and then just magically wanted to go out with me?”

“It wasn’t magically , asshole, I just didn’t realize I’d been wanting to date you for… for a while…” it’s embarrassing that he just admitted that, and even more so when he can see the exact moment Zoro puts two and two together.

Sanji stopped dating around because subconsciously, he was already in love with him.

“…So are you gonna get off or what?” the cook asks, now a little flustered by being straddled like this.

The moss-ball scrambles to get off and the remote gets handed to him but he keeps staring… it’s awkward as fuck.

To cut through the tension, he suggests, “Put on that anime about pirates”. It wasn’t all that great when he started watching but the more he watched, the more he liked the characters. “You said it’s got like a billion episodes and we’re only on like the 40th”.

Without even turning to the tv just yet, Zoro chuckles, “You said you hated it”.

“Yeah, well, I’m starting to like it. So what?” Sanji huffs.

Smiling to himself, the moron finally relaxes back on his seat and finally opens up Crunchyroll. “You do that a lot, huh?” he comments offhandedly, turning to meet his confused eyes, “Hating stuff you know you’re gonna end up madly in love with”.

Sanji kicks his side but smirks to himself, too. Smartass. He didn’t have to read the cook to filth like that.

The show starts and they’re both quiet, but the Marimo has settled in right beside Sanji, shoulders touching and thighs pressed against each other. He’s a little flustered, granted. He’s used to be the one to pull moves like this and take the lead when it comes to women, but he doesn’t hate this.

It flusters him like he’s a teenage virgin, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing.

After a while, they clean up the pizza, wash their faces and hands and come back to drink some wine and chill, lights off this time. It’s a risky affair, for sure. Ever since he allowed himself to think about Zoro in a sexy way, his hormones has just skyrocketed.

After a while, they’ve both completely relaxed against the couch, sides completely pressed together. “So you’re really giving up women?”

The statement is layered enough that Sanji turns to look at the moss-ball. He opts for a little humor, mostly to not sound like a simp, “For now. As soon as I break up with you I’m going right back, don’t worry about it”. Zoro huffs, but says nothing. ”What? No comeback?”

The Marimo shrugs, “What am I supposed to say? You know we’re not gonna break up”.

“At all?” Sanji scoffs, “You really think we’re never gonna break up?!” It’s one thing to go into this having good expectations, but ‘never breaking up’?! It’s not physically possible for two people to really get that lucky in this sad miserable universe they live in.

Zoro turns, “Yeah”. So naturally he says it. Like it’s a fact. “Don’t worry Curly, knowing how your brain works, you’ll  probably realize you don’t wanna break up in a few years” he earns himself an elbow to the ribs for that one. The bastard one-ups the cook by placing an arm over his shoulders, effectively flustering him into submission.

Looking up, the cook realizes their faces are tantalizingly close, “You’re being annoying on purpose” he observes.

“When has it ever been on accident?” Zoro smirks.

They’re not even watching the fucking show anymore. His eyes can’t really look away right now. He’s just breathing, slow and deep, his eyes skating freely over Mossy’s face. “I’m still having an existential crisis…”

Marimo snorts, “Over liking a guy? I’m good looking, Cook, who could blame you?” It’s annoying that this idiot knows how hot he is and uses it against him.

“No, dipshit, don’t flatter yourself” he scoffs, eyes lingering on dark pink lips. “I feel like I should be freaking out more , that’s the thing”.

This catches the moss-ball by surprise, “Why?”

Shrugging minutely, the blonde sighs, “Dunno… just ‘cause…” he guesses. “This is so far off to what I’m used to…”

“I could wear a dress if it helps” Zoro offers with a salacious smirk.

Idiot.

He makes the cook chuckle, though, and he ducks his head down, leaning it against the Marimo’s shoulder. “You wanna traumatize me for life?! Don’t go near dresses” he says with finality. A small part of him, however, is curious…

Not the point right now, though. “Bastard” Zoro huffs, nudging the cook’s chin up with a finger, so they can go back to staring at each other.

“Did you freak out when you realized you were gay?” Sanji asks, intrigued.

The shrug was immediate, “Not really. I never thought I’d be in a relationship. Sex is sex, I figured that’s all there really was to it so I didn’t think too hard”.

So… all of the Marimo’s past experiences are purely sexual? No feelings? That’s so weird. “And you’re not freaking out? That we’re doing this?”

“I should be…” Zoro mutters, looking the calmest he’s ever looked whenever he’s near the cook.

Slowly but surely, both start leaning in slowly, initiating a kiss that turns heated far too quickly. The urge to make it a little more than kissing was there, but this time, it didn’t go beyond groping. Heavy groping, but still.

They spent at least ten minutes just making out, hands wandering to places Sanji never thought he’d have his hands on. They got under the Marimo’s shirt, up to where he could feel the nipples and he started toying with those for a while. Then they moved down, with slow precision, until he was putting just the right pressure over Zoro’s dick.

He didn’t dare do more than a little rubbing just yet. Sex is great, always, and gay sex? Sanji knows it’s a fucking riot. But it’s been a while, and this time around there’s feelings involved, so he’s gonna need a second to wrap his brain around it.

In other words, he was trying to re-acclimatize himself back into gay sex. One stroke of a dick at a time. Still, his brain wanted to jump over those boundaries like they were nothing. His kisses always became desperate, hungry, he started wanting to pull Zoro up to climb on his lap…

It’s exhilarating to be able to feel someone else get excited like this. And the light pressure to his own hard on was incredible. That and the fact that one of Zoro’s hands always ended up kneading his ass? It was fucking great.

Who knew that musclehead knew what buttons to push during a makeout. He was doing everything to drive Sanji crazy and not even realizing it. The tender kisses under his chin and behind his ear before going back to the lips, the tantalizingly slow stroking of his dick through his pants, the way every so often his hair would be pulled on passionately, or the way those same fingers would gently cup his face every so often to readjust the angle…

“We should stop” Zoro tries, but the cook’s not ready yet. He says nothing, instead letting his hands wander ever so slightly under the waistband of the Marimo’s pants. “Curly” he tries again, but is attacked by hungry lips, “Hey… If you keep this up we’re gonna end up in bed”.

That does give Sanji a little bit of pause. As horny and turned on as he got whenever they made out like this (and believe it, there had been a lot of just this the past few weeks), he wasn’t all that ready to figure out gay sex. He wanted to, definitely. But they had work tomorrow and they’ve just been dating for three-ish weeks, it really isn’t all that great to rush into things.

Slowing down the kissing a little, Sanji sighs, “Fuck…”

“Not yet…”

Sanji doesn’t even have the mind to mock the Marimo fro his stupid-ass joke, that’s how into it he was. “At least I’m not the only one with blue balls” he muses, chuckling.

Chuckling lightly, Zoro presses their lips together one last time, “Get your hand off my hard on or I’m gonna flip you over and do shit to you”.

Talk about adding fuel to the fire… but fine. He does get his hand off, mumbling “Killjoy” under his breath.

Zoro smiles brightly, “Quick question” he starts, thumb tracing a line up and down his jawline, “Do you always get so excited about kissing or am I special?”

This is the downside of dating friends of years. They’ve heard you said shit. A lot of shit. Like the time Sanji went on record to say ‘ a kiss is just a kiss, it’s not that big of a deal and there’s nothing special about em. What’s special is the lady! ’.

Sighing, the cook’s turns his head back to the tv, “Ya had to ruin it, didn’t ya?” He does his best to ignore the stupid smile he’s receiving from the Marimo.

Mossy just hook is an arm once again over his shoulders, and turns back to the tv. That’s about when they realize they missed an entire chapter, and they have to go back and re-watch.

Somewhere between the fifth and sixth episode, they end up falling asleep. And this time, when Sanji wakes up in the middle of the night, tv screen asking him if he’s still there and Zoro fast asleep and slumped against him, he’s glad to think it’s all turned out a lot better than expected. He should just pretend to be asleep again, see if the moss-ball carries him this time.

But no, he gets up, turns everything off, goes to grab a blanket and comes back to his spot to cuddle up to Zoro.

That’s when Zoro wakes up a little more and manhandles him so they’re lying horizontally.

It’s a new experience to be little spoon, he almost feels like it’s not right, but Zoro caressing with a thumb over his abs does help calm him down a bit. What spoon you are shouldn’t have to mean anything, right?