Chapter Text
Standing on his brand new front porch with a suitcase at his side and his newly acquired house keys clutched loosely in one hand, Sanji took a deep breath. He basked in the moment and all that had happened to take him here. A newfound freedom and endless free time until informed otherwise, he reminisced.
A disastrous forced arranged marriage that only ended in failed engagement. He hadn’t even met his fiance before things went to shit, knew not a shred about her even still nor what she looked like. He wasn’t told her name even, just that dismally insignificant information that she shared a passion for cooking through baking to try and raise his spirits from his sister. Bemused, Sanji was certain that it was the shortest lived and most pathetic engagement arrangement that had ever happened.
A final severance from his blood family, at least until he was seen as a useful pawn once more by his fucking despicable father by blood. Sanji had resigned himself that he was indebted to cooking for Luffy for the rest of his life after the shit he had pulled to save him from his family and that stupid fucking arranged marriage. Sanji hadn’t even planned to spill any information to Luffy about the shitstorm that was his family situation, but one night fuelled with desperation and fear about this engagement hanging over his head like an anvil had resulted in him spewing everything out to Luffy in fearful desperation.
It was one of his lowest and most pathetic moments in life, that was for sure. He was certain his eyes had been puffy like balloons, tears and snot running down his cheeks and the top of his lip which wavered like an earthquake. He must have looked like a disaster, a porcelain plate seconds away from cracking under the stress, fissures already visible and only becoming more pronounced the further Sanji wept.
In spite of all that, Luffy just smiled at him in that characteristic Luffy way and promised him that he would help Sanji solve everything.
Luffy was his lifesaver, and with the promise that his family would never interfere with his life again if he had something to say about it, Sanji had finally felt all tension escape his body like smoke to a fire. Those tears felt like an overflow of relief, an unstoppable water fountain that he was tempted to drown in. Freedom, Sanji had not felt such an unsuffocating feeling resonate with him in such a gut punch capacity in a long time.
Fuck, if Sanji wasn’t grateful for Luffy and everything he had done even if spending thousands on the insatiable food vacuum that was Luffy would make a serious dent in his forever finances. It was a small price to pay in reality, and deep down Sanji always found Luffy’s voracious appetite for his well cooked food and the multiple genuine compliments that he paid Sanji every single time heartwarming beyond repair. Even if he more often than not acted like Luffy was a nuisance like a buzzing fly that wouldn’t leave him alone, that was just how their friendship was.
After that shit came his indefinite suspension from work until notified otherwise. Damn his shitty cranky old man and his stupid callus overprotectiveness. “You’re overworking yourself and you’re not a use to anyone. Your food has been shit and your attitude even shitter. Get out until you sort yourself out, brat.”
Deep down, Sanji knew that while Zeff was a harsh and shitty old geezer that he ultimately said that because he cared. He knew Sanji was burning himself out until the point he became like a meteor inevitably going to crash and cause who knows what kind of destruction to himself. Sanji was still utterly pissed, how else was he supposed to stay sane and prove himself and his usefulness if not cook in the Baratie until his nails bled and his hands shook?
The words still made his fucking blood boil at least a little, and it had flared up a ginormous argument in that moment with Zeff and Sanji shouting at each other while the staff stood by and watched like they were the peanut gallery. After Sanji had stormed off in what he will not acknowledge as a tantrum no matter how many times Patty and Carne teasingly called it that, he simmered in his self defeatism and self consciousness. After metaphorically licking his wounds and Zeff cooling his hot temper, a trait that he had passed onto Sanji, Zeff expressed his overwhelming concern and Sanji conceded that his burnout behaviour was unhealthy.
Sanji was still ultimately displeased, but respected Zeff’s decision to put him on indefinite leave until Zeff deemed him worthy to come back. “Get your head on straight, Sanji. When I know you’re not gonna wind up dead on my damn kitchen floor trying to prove yourself I’ll let you back. Take a fucking break for once in your life, ya hear? Can’t believe I raised such a workaholic, Little Eggplant.” Zeff had only huffed grumpily and grimaced in an attempt to mask a surprised laugh and avoid a smile when Sanji had snidely shot back that, “it takes one to know one, old geezer.”
Zeff made Sanji promise to not be a stranger even though he was not allowed back to work, meaning he just wanted to see Sanji in spite of being kicked out. Sanji promised that he’d visit his old man once a week for dinner, both having to compromise that they’d cook alternatively each week instead of fighting for sole ownership of chef for family night dinners between the two of them. In spite of how they may appear harsh, Zeff was Sanji’s dad, and they both shared that familial love for one another the way that father and son do.
From there, now feeling a little hopeless that his tether to avoiding his problems through work was severed, he decided to give Luffy a visit and cook him a meal. He had to occupy himself somehow, and Luffy would never stop him from cooking if he could eat delicious food. The consequence of going over to Luffy’s place for a visit meant that not only did he have to cook for the glutton that was Luffy, but he also had to cook for his brother Ace who’s appetite was just as bad. Luckily, their other brother Sabo was away for some secret work as he usually was, so Sanji hadn’t had to cook for more than the two.
After having dinner with Luffy and his brother Ace, which essentially was cooking his heart out for two starving beasts with insatiable appetites, he had gone to wash the dishes on instinct. Ace, aware of etiquette and actually polite but knowing Sanji would not budge on doing the dishes, grabbed a tea towel and started the drying process.
Luffy, on the other hand, was sitting on the kitchen counter behind them and swinging his legs back and forth, something that made Sanji’s eye twitch even though it wasn’t even his kitchen. It was the blatant disrespect for the kitchen! But Sanji bit his tongue as they continued their conversation and it eventually landed on what Sanji’s future was going to look like.
It was Ace who had suggested moving. It was Luffy who had suggested the little single bedroom town house with a backyard that Nami was selling. By the end of the visit, the brothers had essentially planned out Sanji’s entire move and encouraged him to take the leap from the little apartment that was five minutes from work that he lived in now. Sanji was unsure what he must have been thinking at that moment to not call the both of them irresponsible and crazy, but he had agreed to at least speak to Nami about the house.
The beautiful Nami, a friend of a friend from Luffy, who had that enigmatic smile and eyes shining with shiny gold dollar signs when he informed her he was inquiring about the property. She had gone easy on him with the price of the place due to his connection with Luffy, he knew. Even though it was a relatively small home, the backyard was very generous for space, even going so far to have a spacious shed! Regardless, he would have easily surrendered all money in his bank account for the lovely woman if she so asked for this house, she likely deserved it with her stunning financial cunningness.
Then came the catch.
“I do need to tell you something about the shed. Unfortunately, the shed is actually leased out to a really good friend of mine. It was converted into a granny flat a year ago and we have the agreement that he can live there if he does maintenance for the actual home if required by the owner. So while you don’t get a shed, you do get a free maintenance man in your backyard that I promise you can bother at any time.”
Learning that he had a neighbour literally in his backyard did not make Sanji feel very enthused, much less that he shared said backyard with his neighbour. Sanji had no intentions of bothering whatever man lived there to do maintenance on the house like fix a pipe if something went wrong, but it was still disconcerting to know a stranger was camping out in his new backyard.
Sanji had every intention of airing out that grievance, he truly did, but Nami had pouted her lipglossed bottom lip and gave him large and dazzling puppy dog eyes that made all the words die on his tongue. All of them except the ones that told Nami that he’d accept the offer for the house. Sanji wanted to absolutely strangle himself and hit his head against a brick wall for being so stupid later, but he came up with a few dumb plans to ease his disgruntlement about sharing his space in the meantime.
What if he put tape to signal which part of the backyard was his and which part was his neighbours so there was no interaction or trespassing? That was one idea of a few, but even if Sanji was unhappy with the situation, he wasn’t quite that childish.
Petulant, sure, but he was twenty four damn it he wasn’t going to stoop to such childishness.
So that led him to opening up his eyes once more and being greeted with the same closed door to his newly owned house, keys still loosely weaved in his fingers and his suitcase still taunting him at his side. Fortunately, all of Sanji’s furniture had been moved in already as Luffy had promised to organise that for Sanji the night that he and Ace had convinced him to move. Sanji had no clue who he recruited to help move everything, knowing Ace had definitely been roped in to help, but was simply glad he didn’t have to worry about all his shit being moved. If something was broken, though? Luffy was getting kicked into the sun and Sanji wouldn’t hesitate to do it, either.
Knowing he had stalled enough and that if a person had passed by they may have thought he was weird to just stand there, even worse if it happened to be whatever fucking dude lived in his backyard, he finally slipped the key into the lock and entered his new home for the first time. Suitcase trailing behind him, his eyes swept across the expanse of the relatively open kitchen, dining room, and lounge room. On the opposite facing wall was a glass door connected to some windows to lead outside. Sanji felt his nose wrinkle at the thought of his neighbour just staring at him from the backyard, but luckily the curtains would be sufficient.
In a little nook near the entrance was a small half bathroom with a toilet only, and going up the stairs led to his new master bedroom and walk in bathroom. The top story was small considering it only had two rooms, but the house was designed to be condensed like an apartment but have the perks of a backyard. Not so much of a perk to Sanji, considering it came with a neighbour, but he was sure he could utilise the space outside to maybe have a small herb garden and some outdoor seating with an umbrella for shade.
Having left his suitcase at the door, he scrutinised his furniture and the little house to his standards. He had to make sure that Luffy and whatever friends he had recruited had done their job right. Especially the stuff for his kitchen. Fucking hell, Sanji had tried to fight Luffy about it as Sanji wanted to move everything into his precious kitchen himself, but no! Luffy was nothing if not stubborn, and with puffed up cheeks and crossed arms like he was throwing a tantrum, Sanji knew he was going to lose the argument and Luffy would get his way.
Inspecting every single one of his knives, pans, utensils, everything with his scrutinising eyes, he annoyingly conceded that somehow everything was fine. Not put in the proper places, but Sanji could only accept so much, he supposed. Sighing, he went about the task of rearranging his entire kitchen until everything felt like it had order. Call it the perfectionism in him when it came to his pickiness for his kitchen, but he liked it all in a particular way. No one was going to use his kitchen besides himself, anyway, so he felt he was allowed to be as particular as he wanted.
It was time consuming, but Sanji felt satisfaction when he finally straightened his back and everything in his kitchen was exactly where he wanted it. Quick to unpack whatever was left in his travel suitcase, mostly a few outfits he kept to wear while everything was being moved over the span of a few weekends, Sanji decided he could finally explore the backyard. He fucking hoped he didn’t run in to whatever man lived in the shed, but he had a feeling his luck was not in his favour.
I shouldn’t be mean, he’s a friend of the lovely Nami, he reminded himself to try and calm his nerves as he surveyed the outside properly. There was certainly ample space for little planter boxes, Sanji glad that he could try to utilise whatever green thumb he had and grow some herbs and possibly some other small veggies. He was getting ahead of himself, though, he knew gardening wasn’t such an easy task but he was somewhat determined to give it a go. After all, what else was he going to do to occupy his time?
Besides grass and a tree in the back corner that provided ample shade if Sanji wanted to sit under it with a picnic blanket, there wasn’t much to see. It was just grass, a tree, and the dreaded shed. Unable to help himself and keep his curiosity at bay, Sanji quietly stalked up to the shed with the intent to observe. Did it have windows? Surely it must, otherwise it would be shitty and dingy. Sanji dreaded the mustiness that could grow if no windows or air circulation was present. Certainly enough, there was a window with curtains to block his view inside. Not that he wanted to look! He couldn’t care less, and he wasn’t some sort of nosy weirdo. He was just simply curious what kind of crazy person lived inside a shed…
That being said, it was quite a large shed. Certainly big enough to fit all basic amenities like a kitchen, bed, bathroom and small couch if oriented correctly. It would be very tight, Sanji was sure, but certainly liveable. Sanji’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, he observed the state of the shed and thought it could definitely be better. Not even a welcome mat? At least there wasn’t an outdoor toilet, Sanji supposed. Sanji seriously did not want to encounter his neighbour if he was leaving his house to take a piss.
“You done creeping around yet, Curlybrow?”
Sanji refused to acknowledge that the noise that came out of his mouth was a squeal of fright. Whirling in the direction where that unexpected voice came from, Sanji realised that he had made a grievous mistake. He had completely failed to notice the man who had been laying underneath the tree, napping under the afternoon sun and soaking up the warmth. Well, to be fair, the man fucking camoflauged in with the grass because of his green hair! Seriously, who had green hair?! Not only that, but wearing green and black just made him blend in even further! He was like a fucking walking talking ball of moss!
An attractive one, Sanji’s mind betrayed himself. Handsome face with tan skin, a silver eye that was piercing like one of Sanji’s kitchen knives. Muscular and well built, the man clearly went to the gym or did some form of laborious job to keep up that form. But Sanji refused to be swayed by such gorgeous looks, because he would rather eat shit and die than let this man start a fight with him upon first meeting him! Who did he think he was?
This man, who he presumed was his neighbour or Sanji was seriously going to go into fight or flight mode and kick this guy into oblivion, was giving him a thoroughly unimpressed look. It wasn’t overtly so, in fact the man’s face was rather passive, but it was the curl to his lip and furrow to his eyebrow with that judgemental glint in his eye that made Sanji’s short fuse start to light.
”Who the fuck are you calling Curlybrow, Mossball? Your hair is so green it blended into the fucking grass!” Sanji knew how to be petty when it was called for, and damn it this shithead was getting on his nerves! Sanji refused to back away when the man approached him, shoulders tall and glare remaining strong. Even when their faces were intimidatingly close. This fucking brute may appear more muscular than Sanji, but Sanji knew how to break someone’s ribs with one kick alone so he wasn’t feeling threatened in the slightest. Begrudgingly, Sanji internally grouched at the fact that the man happened to be a tiny bit taller than him. Eye to eye, they both assessed their opponent.
”I help move in your prissy furniture and all those shitty dress shirts and that’s the thanks I get?” The man scoffed, Sanji getting to see his sharp jawline up close and how smooth and flawless the skin on his face looked and wow… No! Sanji refused to get distracted, and this new information that this man somehow had something to do with helping move his stuff was baffling. Sanji never asked this guy to participate in moving his stuff, especially if he knew it was going to result in such insolent arrogance!
”Excuse me? But Luffy said… Oh shit.” Honestly, Sanji should have expected this. He should have asked for more details about which friends Luffy was recruiting to help move his stuff and maybe he could have avoided this whole shitty situation. Even better yet, if Luffy hadn’t been stubborn about helping Sanji move then this never would have happened. If this mosshead was a great friend of the lovely Nami, who’s to say he wasn’t one of Luffy’s too? Sanji should have expected this, especially considering Luffy was a magnet for making friends. Luffy’s probably described this guy to him before and Sanji just didn’t catalogue it.
“You know him,” Sanji said flatly, internally kicking himself in the ass for not realising it sooner.
”Known him for years. Shows how much you know about him, Curly.”
”Please, Luffy collects friends like they’re fucking collector cards,” Sanji scoffed, turning to the side so he no longer had to look at the barbarians absolutely lethal attractive face card. He instead reached into his pocket and lit a cigarette to dispel some of the tension and have something to do, not to mention put some space between them so they weren’t standing a foot apart in their confrontation. Not wanting to be a full on asshole, Sanji blew the smoke to the side and cradled his cigarette while he side eyed the Mosshead discreetly.
Short green hair that was unkempt but not unsightly, scar through the eye that looked fully healed but still retaining that pinkness that spelt it had occurred in the last few years. Was he some kind of thug? Luffy did have a penchant of befriending the strange. Surely not, though, if Nami was this man’s close friend and let him willingly live in the shed.
A freckle on the side of his neck, another on his bicep, but no smattering of them like Sanji could get along his nose when he was in the sun for too long. The man was broad and tan, unlike Sanji’s ghostly paleness, something Sanji could not change no matter how much he went in the sun. He was dressed like a simpleton, but Sanji could hardly judge considering this man was technically at home, though Sanji didn’t have high expectations that the man gave a shred of shit for fashion.
He had a niggling feeling in the back of his brain that this man had been mentioned by Luffy. In fact, Sanji was almost suspiciously certain he may have seen this man around before when invited to parties hosted by said Luffy. Not that Sanji often attended them, his long and arduous hours at the restaurant and his dedication to the place hardly left him time to relax and take a chill pill. Hence, he mostly saw Luffy when he dedicated time to actually visit him and cook him something, or when the little leech came and mooched free food at the Baratie because his old man always let him even if he acted disgruntled about it.
There were always way too many people at those parties, anyways, and Sanji was not one to go befriending everyone when he had just had a twelve hour shift and dealt with fussy customers and stressful situations all day.
“You normally stare a lot or am I just special?” The man seemed much less annoyed with his tone, still having this goading undertone but almost having a certain amusement in there. Almost as if he wanted to start an argument, or maybe that was just the way this mossball communicated. Sanji didn’t know, but it seemed this man knew how to push Sanji’s buttons and he’d only known him for the span of five minutes.
”Full of yourself much? I was just trying to remember if I’ve seen your ugly mug before but can’t say you’re ringing any bells. Mustn't be that memorable.” Sanji refused to pay this man any compliments about how attractive he was, much less accepting that he had acknowledged such information, lest this man get a bigger fucking ego. The man smirked, as if he were in on a joke that Sanji was not privy too, but didn’t say anything which was almost more infuriating. Flicking his dead cigarette to the ground and stomping on it for extra measure, Sanji gave the man an antagonistic sneer and waltzed back into his home to get some peace and quiet.
The man had rolled his eyes but when Sanji had finally peaked outside through the glass doors once more, he saw the man once more napping underneath the shade of the large tree. Whatever, not like I’m going to interact with him often, Sanji thought to himself as he got around to situating himself properly into his new home. He had to take this opportunity to relax like he was instructed, to actually fucking decompress from the shitshow that was his life the past year or so and actually enjoy it. Resigning himself to his new life of being suspended from work, Sanji decided the only thing to do was to grab his keys and get some groceries to be sufficiently stocked for cooking.
———
Sanji had a problem.
He had realised it when he had made his weekly visit to Zeff’s, which was an apartment above the Baratie because that man was married to his job and then ironically wondered where Sanji got his workaholic nature from. He was standing by the sink and helping his old man wash the dishes after Zeff had cooked for them both, spicy seafood pasta which Zeff knew was Sanji’s favourite meal, it always felt like a warm hug or like he was home. Zeff had been asking about his new house throughout their dinner, but while cleaning the dishes he had gruffly joked if he should prepare extra stock if Luffy decided to swing by for a meal as a thank you for his help.
And in that moment, not thinking of the issue that later pinged in his head, Sanji reassured his old man not to worry about it. That one, he wasn’t going to make his old man pay back a debt that Sanji had created. Secondly, who did his old man think he was? He wasn’t an idiot, of course he had already prepared himself to cook up a feast as a thank you for Luffy and whoever had helped move all his furniture over.
Sanji was nothing if not thoughtful, and he was honestly a little offended that his old man had the audacity to think Sanji had not thought of this beforehand. It started an argument, a lighthearted one where Zeff called him a brat and shoved leftovers into his arms, and Sanji grumpily stomped to the front entrance. Sanji made sure that the dining table was spotlessly clean and shouted he better be ready to sit down and let Sanji cook next week as he left.
When Luffy had been a stubborn brat about helping move Sanji’s furniture, Sanji forced him to compromise by promising he would cook everyone who helped move his stuff some food as a thank you. Luffy, always one to be swayed by the mention of food, had instantly agreed with a bit of drool escaping out the corner of his mouth. Disgusting, Sanji thought with a shudder, both he and Ace sharing an exasperated look over Luffy’s shoulder at his predictability.
Now came to the current predicament. The only issue with this was that Sanji had learned, and gotten confirmation from Luffy, that his shithead neighbour living in the shed really did help move his stuff. Not only that, but it had actually only been Luffy, Ace and his neighbour who had done it all over a single weekend! It was then that Sanji had finally learnt the man’s name, Zoro, and it was like Sanji got an influx of memories about this man. He and Sanji were both the same age at twenty four, unsurprising considering Sanji had guessed as much.
Turns out, Luffy had actually mentioned him quite a bit and Sanji had just never really taken much notice due to his brain being on cooking hyperdrive. Guiltily, Sanji had admitted to himself that this was something he could work on during his break from work, being more present in the moment. He had to learn to focus less on how he can prove himself through his generosity so he wasn’t tossed aside by his friends when shown to be useless.
Luffy had reminded him as such recently, that Luffy would never discard Sanji despite his fucking abomination of a blood related family and how useless Sanji perceived himself to be. Luffy had been quite uncharacistically candid too, authoritative and serious in droves, and yet it was a hard habit for Sanji to break out of.
Introspection aside, the issue after that little conversation with Zoro was that Sanji did not want to reward that man for moving in his stuff. Sanji knew he was being petty, and that he would concede and do it after fuming for a while and cursing while cooking the meal but he can just imagine that piece of shit’s smug face. Smirk with a bit of his teeth showing, that little dimple on his cheek that came forth from the gesture, the shine in his stunning silver eye…
Ahem, it was utterly infuriating! The bastard didn’t deserve to feel like he had one up on Sanji, but Sanji was nothing if not kind and knew that Zoro deserved a thank you for his hard work. So, swallowing his pride, Sanji cooked a feast for the three men as a thank you and packed it all away in containers. Ace had already swung by earlier on his way home from work from his firefighting job and profusely thanked Sanji for the delicious food on behalf of both himself and Luffy. Sanji just laughed him off with a warm smile, taking the opportunity to have a bit of a chat with Ace while he was there. It was in no way an interrogation to learn more about his shed dwelling neighbour, but somehow the conversation happened to fall in that direction.
Turns out, Ace had shown a lot of respect for Zoro, having apparently looked out for Luffy a lot when Ace and Sabo had not been present due to work. More surprisingly, Sanji found out that Zoro, Nami, Luffy, and their mutual friend Usopp all knew each other because they went to the same high school. Apparently they were kind of the outcasts, which Sanji had to admit wasn’t surprising considering Luffy’s attention span, Nami’s tactics to swindle money off of losers and Usopp’s nervous disposition that made him spew lies more often than truths. Zoro somehow fit into that chaotic group of friends, apparently, despite his no bullshit and stoic demeanour that he attempted to exude. Interesting… Perhaps the Mossball was more interesting than Sanji gave him credit for.
Secretly filing that information away for later, Sanji bid Ace farewell and went back to his kitchen to lament how he was going to confront the ball of Moss to give him his portion of the food. A part of Sanji was intrigued about him because he, Luffy and a few mutual friends they apparently shared happened to go a ways back. A part of Sanji was still ticked off about Moss’s attitude that just seemed to flick on Sanji’s short fuse like a light switch and would end up with them bickering. Another part of Sanji felt quite appreciative, in a very reluctant way, because Zoro had actually gone to the effort of helping move all of Sanji’s stuff without even knowing Sanji at all. All simply because Luffy had asked, and he seemed like a no questions asked kind of guy who was willing to help out a friend.
Biting the inside of his cheek and running a frustrated hand through his blonde hair, Sanji berated himself for even mentally working himself into a hole about the whole situation. He could just walk out to the backyard, drop the food at the front door of the shed and walk back in! No interaction needed. Maybe write a small sticky note on there so he knows it was from Sanji and wasn’t a stranger trying to poison him or some shit. Nodding to himself, Sanji went through with writing a small Thanks, Sanji on a note, deliberating whether to put a curl on it because he realised Zoro might not actually know his name. Deciding to once again knee his pride in the stomach, he put the curl on the sticky note to represent his eyebrow and forced himself to go outside and face his next challenge.
A man on a mission, Sanji stormed towards the shed with the intent on delivering the stack of food in his arms. It was nothing fancy, at least by Sanji’s standards, but it was definitely a good amount of food for the next week if the Mosshead didn’t eat like a demon. Standing at the door, Sanji hesitated on whether or not he should knock. He knew he initially was going to put the food down and scuttle away like a mouse, but some of the food needed to be refrigerated relatively soon to remain fresh. Not to mention the meals wouldn’t taste as good if they were left in the late afternoon sun… But what if Zoro wasn’t home? It was a weekday, what if Zoro was still at work? Sanji hadn’t heard him leave in the morning, but it’s not as if Sanji was really paying attention since he had better things to do.
What if ants attempted to get into the food? Oh fuck, ants were going to try and get into the food, weren’t they? Especially because leaving the food on Mosshead’s front porch was essentially just leaving it outside on a little shoddy entranceway that was a few centimetres away from the grass! Sanji could always eat the food himself if the Mosshead was going to be ungrateful, especially since Sanji could never bring himself to let food go to waste, but not if there were bugs in it! That… that was actually something out of Sanji’s nightmares!
Fine, that meant he had to knock. For the sake and prosperity of the food he had worked hard on. He couldn’t have his next weekend dinner with Zeff being Sanji telling his father he had disappointed him by letting food go to waste. Sanji could converse with Zoro even if it ended up with the two taking verbal shots at one another. And so what of it, Sanji had never backed down from a fight, and if the Mosshead was going to start one then Sanji would meet him head on!
Slamming his fist against the shed’s repurposed wooden door to appear more homely, Sanji tapped his foot as he waited for the Mosshead to appear. After a minute or so, he was going to knock harder just in case he had headphones or was deaf or something, but then the door swung open and there stood the Mosshead looking confused. He was clearly in gym gear, a duffel bag in one hand and wearing sneakers and Sanji had the suspicion he had just caught him leaving the house to go for his workout.
In an attempt to break the staring match, Zoro clearly expecting him to say something first, Sanji shoved the containers full of food directly into the man’s chest none so gently. “A thanks for helping move my stuff,” Sanji said with a grimace, watching the cogs practically turn in the Mosshead’s head as he let go of his duffel so it fell to the floor to instead cradle the food protectively to his chest so it didn’t spill to the floor. Peering down at the containers, the Mosshead seemed to give everything a very measured once over before his eyes landed on the sticky note. Then that infuriating smirk tilted on his lips and Sanji felt his cheeks warm at his own idiocy for forgetting to remove it.
”Thanks, Curly,” Zoro had said, surprisingly genuine as he walked into his house to presumably put the food in the fridge. For some reason, Sanji thought the other man would be much more antagonistic when being interrupted. Instead, the other man seemed rather calm, as if Sanji’s presence didn’t bother him in the slightest. Sanji stood at the entrance, fidgeting with his hands and wondering if he should either enter or leave. He was glad he didn’t enter considering Zoro came right back, picking up his duffel once more and closing the door behind him once Sanji backed up to give him some space.
”Yeah, well, it was a lot of stuff to move over one weekend and I’m sure Luffy just assumed you were going to help before he even asked,” Sanji added in small talk in an attempt to be polite, shrugging to keep a small but fleeting conversation. It was a roundabout way to say that he was quite appreciative for the work the other man did without blatantly saying it. Seems his pride had taken enough of a beating today. The other just raised an eyebrow, almost as if he had not expected Sanji to say anything at all.
“It was a good workout,” Zoro responded, clearly unaffected by the whole situation and Luffy’s sporadicness with his random requests. Hiking the gym bag higher on his shoulder, the other man threw a, “see ya, Curly,” over his shoulder as he made his way out of the house through the back gate attached to the fencing of the backyard. Sanji watched him go, the wrong footedness of their initial meeting now feeling righted. With a strange sense of relief, Sanji made his way back into his home and let himself finally have a moment of relaxation.
For once since he had forced himself to stop thinking about the shitshow that was his disastrous blood family having forcefully involved himself in his life again which ultimately resulted in him getting temporarily suspended, Sanji felt at ease.
———
Now that he and Zoro both coexisted in their own separate homes, time seemed to actually flow by quite idyllically for Sanji for once. Well, it would be going perfectly if Sanji didn’t feel like he constantly had to be doing something. He was going a little stir crazy, he wasn’t going to deny it. It isn’t like he’d been mulling around in the home either, he’d been going on morning runs every single morning to keep himself fit. He still went to savate classes to ensure his kickboxing was up to scratch. He’d even been reading a bunch of books he had neglected because he had thrown himself into work so hastily and severely that he had lost time for his other hobbies. And yet, even with all this, he still felt like time was going by through molasses and his hands itched with something productive to do.
Sanji rethought that idea of having those garden beds out the back that he had on the first day of moving in, and possibly even making a small and shaded patio space for him to smoke in, and he thought that would satisfy his need to do something. To be fair and inclusive, obviously Sanji would ask Zoro if this was okay considering they shared the backyard space, but he didn’t have any huge qualms about approaching the man to ask. Sure, he caught the Mosshead outside sometimes when Sanji went for an afternoon or evening smoke, but they kept it mostly cordial. The man seemed to be coming home from work or the gym most of the time they interacted, and they wouldn’t have small talk, but they’d acknowledge one another’s presence.
On a day where they felt more combatitive, they’d raise an eyebrow, give a smug little smirk or a deadpan frown. It was almost like a silent form of communicative goading and annoyance, but they secretly both seemed to relish in annoying the other even in such a minuscule way. It was almost like a game of tug of war, and both wanted to have the upper hand. On the other end, when Sanji clearly was two seconds away from begging Zeff to let him back to work and was stress smoking, or Zoro looked like he just had the most tiring day at work in his life, they would acknowledge each other kindly. A tired nod, a shared look with a grimace, a shrug. Nothing groundbreaking, just small things to indicate that they recognised the other was there.
That was to say, Sanji didn’t feel like Zoro would purposefully say no to Sanji wanting to create a small garden bed and build a little patio space just to be a vindictive dickhead. In spite of their little moments of playful antagonism, Sanji had to give credit that Zoro did not seem to be the type to be vengeful in that manner. He didn’t seem like he wanted to actually start an argument over their backyard just for the sake of it, he’d only do it to ruffle Sanji’s feathers a bit and then concede once he got his amusement.
Satisfied with the idea and planning to enact it on the weekend, Sanji decided to discuss it the next time he caught the Mosshead coming home from work or the gym. Leaning against the wall for his late afternoon smoke before he went in and cooked dinner, it was Wednesday when Sanji next saw Zoro to approach him about the idea. As per usual, the Mosshead just gave him a look and a little incline of the head in greeting, but Sanji blew out the last dredges of his smoke and stomped out the ignition with the intent for conversation. To give the Mosshead’s social awareness some credit, he paused at Sanji’s action and instead was now facing him fully in silence awaiting Sanji to say something.
“I’m thinking of creating a small seating space for me to smoke and a few garden beds for herbs,” Sanji had said to the Mosshead, but said Mosshead didn’t give a reaction. In fact, his face had been questioning in a why are you telling me this? kind of way that was actually kind of pissing Sanji off. Why wouldn’t he ask Zoro? He’s not that much of an asshole that he’d just change the layout or add shit to their backyard without warning him. He used it just as much as Sanji did! “You got a problem with that?” Sanji added on, not with the intention of starting a fight but it did have a certain sharpness to his tone not unlike a kitchen knife.
“Do whatever you want, it’s your backyard,” the Mosshead said with a dismissive wave of the hand. It seemed he didn’t understand the courtesy Sanji was trying to so kindly bestow upon him. Instead he seemed like it wasn’t a big deal and that Sanji had asked him for no reason. Eye twitching, Sanji shoved his hands in his pants pockets and gave a roll of his eyes just to add a flair of attitude.
”Tch, I know that,” Sanji shot back grumpily, suddenly feeling stupid for having even asked. It was his backyard, he owned the place. He just didn’t own the shed where the Mosshead lived. He just wanted to be considerate! Sanji wouldn’t like it if someone just renovated his backyard without forewarning. Wasn’t it the normal thing to do? While lamenting to himself, Zoro raised an eyebrow, sitting in the awkward silence and actually feeling the need to break it. Surprising, considering the man seemed to happily sit in constant silence unlike Sanji who enjoyed peace and quiet but only for so long.
”You need help?” Zoro offered, knocking Sanji out of his thoughts and leaving him to blink in surprise. He had not expected that, for Zoro to offer up his help so willingly. Not that the man was unkind by any means, but he just seemed to be the kind of man who wanted to stick to himself. The humility in the question made Sanji take a metaphorical step back and try to be less abrasive once more.
”Why, you offering? Not that I need your help, I was planning to do it by myself,” Sanji dismissed pettily at the end of the sentence, because of course he did. Mosshead was unamused by Sanji’s behaviour to his offered kindness, probably due to the genuine olive branch that had been offered, but Sanji felt a small victory in the way that his jaw twitched. It signaled he had snagged on one of Zoro’s nerves, and it felt like revenge after his attitude this entire conversation.
“I’ll just sit and watch you do everything, then. That better?” It was just as snarky as it was trying to prove a point. Sanji let out a huff under his breath, the Mosshead always knew exactly what buttons to push to make him mad. However, two could play at this game, and Sanji was never going to lose a battle to Zoro without fighting first beforehand.
”You know what? Maybe you should help to get your lazy ass actually doing something outside on the weekend besides napping all day. Soon enough the hair on your head is going to be overgrown with weeds,” Sanji had taunted. Just to add salt to the wound, he gave a scrutinising squint to the mop of moss atop Zoro’s head as if to scan for said weeds growing already.
”Whatever, Curly, it’s a date,” the Mosshead had said nonchalantly, not having an ounce of care for the bomb he just dropped with those words on Sanji’s psyche. In fact, he seemed a little bit like he was gearing up for a reaction from Sanji. It was the cheeky gleam in his eyes, almost bringing a shimmer to that iris of silver stone.
”Date?!” Sanji basically choked on the word as if it had been lodged in his throat and he was coughing it out, but the stupid Mosshead didn’t seem to pay attention. He just turned back to the direction of his house, threw a lazy wave over his shoulder and unlocked the door to his house. “Hey! Don’t just fucking-“ Sanji’s sentence was cut off when Zoro entered his house, sends a taunting smirk with lips that were slanted to the right in that infuriating way, and closed the door before Sanji could finish speaking.
“Come back here!” Sanji ranted, slamming his fists on the door that went pointedly ignored by the man inside. The door rattled under the beating faced by Sanji’s aggressive knocking, but once seconds passed and Zoro did not reappear, Sanji gave the door a kick for good measure and gave up. Growling in frustration, Sanji decided that on the weekend he’d fucking make sure that Zoro pulled his weight when it came to building those planters and creating the damn patio space.
So later in the week, Sanji went out of his way to go to a gardening and furniture store to buy all the necessary materials for the little patio and garden beds during the rest of the week since he had nothing better to do either way. Plus, Sanji had an inkling that if he asked the Mosshead to join and he actually agreed to come he’d just yawn and complain about how long Sanji took to decide between different chairs and wood colours. Sanji wasn’t picky, he just had refined tastes unlike the stupid Mosshead. Sanji didn’t even think Zoro would actually care whatever the patio and garden bed looked like as long as it was functional, especially considering he hadn’t even seemed to care Sanji had wanted to introduce them to the backyard at all.
He stored the materials outside under the shade of the tree by the fence, praying no bugs were hiding themselves away in the sealed boxes and slabs of wood for the planter boxes. He would have stored it in a shed, but that was out of the question, now wasn’t it? And he didn’t have enough space in his cosy home to put it inside since it wasn’t very spacious with all the furniture put in place just as Sanji had wanted. Leaving it outside also had the intended effect that the Mosshead would see it and that he only had a day or so to back out from helping or changing his mind. Sanji would definitely tease him for it, but if Zoro did change his mind Sanji would respect that.
It didn’t matter, either way. The weekend rolled around and just as planned the both of them were now kneeling in the grass and dirt while bickering with each other about the instructions for the planter. They had already assembled the patio furniture, just four chairs and a round table with a detachable umbrella which was left off so it could reside under the shade of the tree. Their nerves were already frayed from that, but they managed to somehow get through all that with minimal arguing. Not none, because that was asking too much from the both of them, but minimal snarkiness at the very least. It was honestly surprising they had managed to work together so seamlessly despite the endless want to throw dirt into each other's faces.
”Ugh, you’re fucking useless with instructions. I said left!” Sanji shouted in frustration, grasping his hair through his fists in utter loss of sanity at watching this idiot Mosshead make the same fucking mistake. Was he instructionally and directionally challenged or something? Anytime the directions required a certain piece of the planter to be in a specific direction the man always did the opposite! Was this on purpose? To rile Sanji up? Oh, he'll show the man riled up when his ass was kicked into the dirt.
”Well, you’re fucking useless at nailing anything! You’re such a princess about your hands that you hesitate anytime you have to use a hammer!” The mosshead accentuated his growled out words by slamming the hammer onto the final nail of the planter. It had taken them more than necessary to create it considering it was just hammering a few slabs of wood together and making sure it was filled with dirt and seedlings. They hadn’t even got past the construction part and they were at each other's throats, and it had taken more than double the time to even get there! Seems Sanji’s intuition to not buy the appropriate dirt, fertilizer and seedlings until next weekend was a great foresight considering he doubted much more work was about to get done.
”Hey! I need my hands for cooking, thank you. They’re my greatest treasure as a chef.” Retracting his hands from his hair, now probably smeared with dirt he had neglected to remember was dirtied all along his palms, he inspected them. He had tried to help with hammering but everytime he had the thought his precision could slip and he could accidentally slam the hammer into the bones of his hand had made him cringe. It was ridiculous, he wasn’t a princess by any means and he’d dealt with much more danger to his hands by using kitchen knives on the daily! And yet, something about hammering made his skin crawl at the incidental damage that could happen to his hands.
What if he broke a few fingers? Then he couldn’t cook. Then he’d go even more stir crazy! He’s not sure he could cope with that. That might be the final nail in his coffin, metaphorically. Sanji wasn’t even sure why the Mosshead was complaining so much! He clearly didn’t give a shit about the assembly and hammering aspect, he only had gripes about the incorrect directions of assembly when Sanji would snap at him about it for the tenth time.
”Chef? More like shitty cook,” Zoro taunted meanly, grinning as sharp as the edge of a finely honed blade as he dropped the hammer to thud in the grass harmlessly below. It seemed he was gearing up for a real fight, and tensions were on the precipice to the boiling point like a pot of water about to fizz and bubble over. Sanji knew his teeth were unintentionally gritted and his eyes narrowed in a sharpness that could cut a man in half. He was not going to take such insolent fucking disrespect from a walking, talking pile of useless moss!
”Excuse me?” Sanji said lowly, tone dangerous and body tense like an animal about to pounce for the killing blow. The planter box sat beside them innocently, sufficiently constructed and watching the scene that was about to catastrophically unfold. The birds hiding in the protection of the tree chirped away, the leaves of the tree giggled and swayed with life, and yet the fight between two men seemed to be like an avalanche inevitable to occur. “Want to say that again, shithead?”
”Shitty. Cook.” Zoro’s lips formed around the words with purpose, moulding the words to be nothing but the insult it was intended to be. It was a low blow, said with a delightful relish that knew he was about to begin a fight he was clearly daring for. His eye was lit with this spark that knew he was dancing on the precipice of danger, that he was willingly inviting it to occur so he could tackle it himself. And if that was what Zoro desired? Well, who was Sanji to deny that when he wanted nothing more than to kick this man into the dirt himself.
From there, everything seemed to blur into a mishmash of their battle of wanting to beat the other up, although not with the intent to hurt. Sanji had started it, had lunged for the man but the other had read him like a book and willingly welcomed him with open arms. Zoro was predominantly using his upper body strength to battle, Sanji using more of his core muscles and lethal lower body strength for his choice in combat. In spite of it being a battle with their prides on the line, it almost felt like a dance filled with fluidity. The way they both dodged and circled each other, moves practiced and with either certainty or a flair of willing to try something new to get the upper hand. And yet, neither of them really managed to get it to a huge degree just yet, but Sanji had a feeling that Zoro wasn’t utilising his full potential.
It was something about his stance, the way that his movements were rough and almost imperceptibly clumsy. Like he was used to more forceful but smooth movements, something that was not often rewarded by hand to hand combat by using fists. No, this man was definitely skilled enough in hand to hand combat but his true specialty lay somewhere else. It meant that Sanji had the advantage in the long run in their spar as he was essentially in his element grappling and using his legs as a weapon. It also meant that it only took a minuscule mistake from the other before Sanji could smell the blood in the water of victory and took the shot to win.
Back slammed onto the grass and somewhat winded, Zoro caught his breath in wheezes as he stared up with an eye of resignation, knowing when to concede defeat when he knew he was beaten. Zoro’s vision of the sun was hidden behind a halo of golden hair, blue eyes bright like the ocean staring back down at him in analysis, flattering as it was unnerving. Sanji’s legs tightened their grip on his waist to ensure he was like a mouse trapped in a cage, no longer able to fight back or move under the strength exuding from his legs caging him to the grass. From the angle of Sanji facing downwards, his fringe was loosely hanging and Zoro had the rare view of both of his swirly eyebrows. Zoro almost wanted to reach out and trace them, both for the taunt and for the fascination in their curvature.
Sanji brought his face closer to the Mosshead’s, leaning over him but not invading his personal space. He kept a respectful distance as he cast a shadow over Zoro’s vision so he was not blinded by the sun. “You weren’t giving your all. You don’t usually use your fists, do you?” It was perceptive, but Sanji was certain in his conclusion. Sanji had fought many people in his life, majority out of self defense and the rest out of training or classes. He knew an opponent wasn’t utilising their usual trade when he saw one, but Sanji couldn’t quite place what Zoro’s normal fighting style was yet.
”I’m a swordsman,” Zoro conceded, knowing the other was not going to let him go until he forfeited the information. Not that it mattered, Zoro didn’t have any qualms about offering said information up. In fact, he was almost flattered in a way that Sanji had even noticed. That he had paid enough attention to care, that he had an affinity for sparring as much as Zoro did himself. It was a way of communicating for him, being able to spar with others.
”As a hobby?” Swordsmanship was quite unique, Sanji had to admit, but he couldn’t help but think Zoro didn’t take swordsmanship for hobby alone. Sanji had never met a swordsman before, he had to admit it was intriguing. Zoro had to either be an extreme enthusiast for swords based on his movement patterns due to his skill or he had been learning for a lengthy amount of time how to wield a blade.
“By trade. I’m a kendo teacher and compete in competitions.” It was like a light switch flicked in Sanji’s brain. So that was the job that Zoro did everyday, it made a little more sense in hindsight as Sanji had seen him carry a large black duffel bag over his shoulder to and from work. Must contain the wooden swords for him to teach kendo. It also made sense as to why the Mosshead went to the gym all the time, he probably went to keep up his physique for competitions whenever they came along and he had the chance to participate.
”You fight and move like you have a lot of experience,” Sanji said with an almost respectful regard in his tone. As if he found Zoro’s technique and movements impressive. Zoro wouldn’t admit it, but he too found Sanji’s fighting ability quite admirable. He clearly knew how to use his legs as a weapon, and they certainly packed a punch. Zoro was not sure he had sparred with someone so close to his own power level and it had been quite invigorating.
”I was taught swordsmanship since I was a kid. Learnt more traditional sword combat first, then adapted to kendo.” Sanji was fascinated to learn that the man had been learning such a skill for so many years. It made sense, Sanji had been learning his own fighting style for many years too as Zeff had been the one to encourage him to learn when he was a kid. To protect himself and build his confidence, or something along those lines his old man had said. Zoro must be determined to have dedicated so much of his time to swordsmanship. He must be quite passionate.
”Makes sense.” With that, Sanji finally stood up and let Zoro go from being trapped to the dirt, reaching up to the sky and stretching after their spar to ease the tension in his muscles. Zoro continued to lay in the grass lackadaisically, nonplussed to move as he honestly could go for a nap, but a hand suddenly was held out to him. An olive branch, it seemed. Sanji kept his hand out, even as Zoro stared at it for a bit to make up his mind on whether to take it or not. Eventually he gave in and grasped the other’s hand, Sanji helping haul him up from the grass and both of them giving each other a look of true acknowledgement and respect for their skill in fighting. It seemed they had more in common than one may think on first impressions.
Sanji turned to light up a cigarette, taking a puff or two in the calmness of the backyard. Once he was halfway through, he let out a puff of smoke and turned to Zoro with a slight uptick to his lips. It seemed he was anticipatory but kept it well hidden when he said, “Well, you’ll just have to show me one day. Have a real fight and see who comes out on top because clearly I can beat your ass easily if you aren’t at your best.” It was just as much mocking as it was showing interest in wanting to see Zoro’s skills as a swordsman.
”Hah, sounds like a promise.” Zoro wasn’t going to lie, it would be quite fun to spar with Sanji with his swords. Obviously not his prized ones made of metal that could cut through anything, but his wooden ones. He had no intentions to harm the other man, just as Sanji had not kicked him hard enough to hurt him more than a bruise here or there. They obviously respected each other not to cause actual harm which only made sparring with each other more fun. It was a way for them to get out their annoyances with each other while it was still productive and enjoyable. Zoro had not had such a capable sparring partner on a similar level to him in such a long time.
“Hm, well, it’s not like either of us are going anywhere,” Sanji said with a tone of humour, referring to their living arrangement with Zoro living in Sanji’s backyard shed. Taking the final drag of his cigarette, Sanji let it go to stomp on it, giving their new patio setup a look of annoyance at the fact he missed to get an ash tray. Next time, he supposed. Turning his attention back to the planter and giving it a once over, Sanji let out a satisfied hum and made a motion of dusting off his hands. “I think that's enough for today. Next week we can plant everything.”
”We? Who says I’m helping?” It was futile, Zoro knew he was going to help in the end but he couldn’t help himself from trying to get a rise out of Sanji. It was the little bickering game they had, and Zoro was not one to lay down and lose. Neither was Sanji, it seemed, which made their rivalry begin in the first place. Not an antagonistic one, but more of a playful one as time continued to go by.
”Won’t you?” Sanji said simply, almost as if he had the confirmation before Zoro had even said it. Sanji had started to understand Zoro more and he knew Zoro would help. He was going to complain, just as Sanji was going to as well, but they’d both meet back up next weekend and do all the work together. Regardless, his words were cheeky, the way he chucked a grin over his shoulder and stepped back into his house and slammed the door closed. It left Zoro standing outside as Sanji patted himself on the back for a job well done, getting revenge for the other day when Zoro had ignored Sanji’s aggressive knocking on his door.
Sanji was quite looking forward to next weekend.