Work Text:
Luffy was different.
Sanji hadn’t dealt with different in a long, long time. For years, his life was the Baratie, and for the most part, that meant wake up, prep, cook, clean, sleep, repeat. And after leaving Germa behind, having a safe routine was comforting, even if Zeff wasn’t exactly the affectionate type.
Being the Strawhats’ new cook gave him more responsibility: keeping track of their inventory, meal planning for five very different appetites and tastes, cleaning and maintaining equipment all by himself, and of course, actually doing the cooking. And while he’d gladly do all of that with nothing in return, Luffy was very free flowing with his compliments.
That was different.
At first, Sanji felt they were perhaps just to be polite. Luffy was an enigma, and while he didn’t seem like someone who cared about manners, who was Sanji to make that assumption? Though, by the time they left Whiskey Peak, he was starting to suspect them of being genuine. He’d never met someone like Luffy before. That seemed to be the consensus amongst everyone else, too, but… Sanji felt especially drawn to him. Luffy was a fireplace in winter, and he already wasn’t sure what he’d do without him.
“Ne, Sanji.”
The unmistakable voice of his captain came with the creak of the galley door, and suddenly Luffy was behind him, clamoring onto a barstool at the island.
“Sanji is so busy all the time, come play on the deck.”
“I can’t, Luffy, I have to prepare dinner,” he mumbled, without turning around.
The nasally whine was to be expected. Sanji eventually faced the rubber boy, an exhausted tilt to his posture.
“Making dinner can’t take that long, can it? Come play on the deck. Captain’s orders.”
Lately, Luffy had come to find that playing the “captain’s orders” card could get him pretty far. But two could play at that game.
“Okay, Captain, are you fine with waiting longer for dinner, then?”
Sanji watched Luffy as he thought about the question. He always tilted his head to one side, looking up and off into the distance when he was thinking about something. And it never lasted for long, either. Luffy was the most decisive person he’d ever met. Maybe he could be that confident one day, too.
“Yeah, that’s fine. Plus, Sanji is the best, so I know he will make dinner quick for me anyway.”
As much as he wanted to be offended at the insinuation of being a pushover, he couldn’t. Not when Luffy was looking at him with that bright smile, laughing because he knew he was right. Not when he told Sanji he was the best. Not when he meant it. Sanji would make it work, because that’s what he always did. He let the fond smile through like tea steeping through mesh.
“Alright, you got me. I’ll be out in a few minutes, I just need to finish preparing the vegetables.”
Usually, that would placate Luffy, sending him back out of the galley to bounce around. But instead, Luffy came around to the other side of the island, jumping up to sit on the countertop just far enough out of the way but still close enough to watch Sanji work.
“Luffy, what are you doing?”
“Watching Sanji.”
“I can see that, but why?”
“I never watch Sanji cook, so I want to see what it’s like. Cooking is like your treasure, right?”
The way Luffy watched him with wide, intense eyes made heat rush to his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Sanji was beginning to suspect that Luffy wasn’t entirely clueless, either. He trusted him wholeheartedly, but had admittedly thought that Luffy was a bit daft initially. Not anymore. Luffy was observant, frighteningly so. And that new realization made him falter, turning away from his captain to try to hide his embarrassing blush.
“Cooking is cool. No one else can cook like Sanji. That’s why you’re my cook.”
Instead of replying, since words had come to fail him, apparently, Sanji just smiled and nodded, returning to chopping up peppers for later. Luffy was surprisingly quiet as Sanji moved on next to the carrots, then the onions. He could feel Luffy’s eyes on him. While he’d been subject to his fair share of Zeff’s scrutiny, having Luffy watch him wasn’t stressful, it was… comforting. When he was being calm about it.
“You’re welcome to watch me prep anytime, Luffy. If you find that you like it.”
“Mmh.” His elastic fingers reached for a slice of carrot from the bowl, and Sanji let him take one as he gathered up the prep bowls to cover and put in the fridge. Once the vegetables were away where they belonged, Sanji began to walk around the island, finishing the loop from the prep counter, past the fridge, all the way around out the door as he assumed Luffy would do as well, since he was so eager to get Sanji on the deck. Instead, he felt a stretchy arm wrap around his waist, and he let it drag him back across the galley until he was in front of Luffy, still sitting on the counter.
Luffy’s arm guided him firmly, absolutely, until he was spun around to find himself between Luffy’s legs, one arm still around his waist. Sanji tried not to look so surprised, but probably failed. He wasn’t sure what he looked like, all he could think about was Luffy, the feeling of his hand on his waist, the other stretchy hand coming to rest on the back of Sanji’s neck, pinky finger sliding up behind his ear. His captain was very touchy, and the way Luffy was warm was different, too. His skin was cold, but his body heat still seeped through. That hidden heat on him was all Sanji could process.
Luffy was giving him that head-tilted look again, like he was trying to figure something out.
“Sanji’s good.”
“I–uh.” There wasn’t time for his brain to start producing thoughts again before Luffy leaned forward and kissed the top of his forehead, probably getting a mouthful of bang in the process, but clearly not caring.
There was no stopping the blood rushing to his face, now he was sure he was redder than Luffy’s vest. His captain leaned back to laugh in his usual mischievous way, and then hopped off the counter, pushing Sanji back gently but still with enough force to bump into the island. When he was standing on the floor again, he was several inches shorter than Sanji. He pushed his way into Sanji’s bubble again, dangerously close but moving with intention, deliberate and telegraphed motions. He knew Sanji would see, knew if he wanted to, he’d stop Luffy. But Sanji could tell Luffy knew he didn’t want to stop. Luffy stretched up to pop another kiss to his cheek before pulling away. The rubber man smiled at him, eyes closing to accommodate the size of it, and it was all Sanji could do to return a smile in kind.
Maybe different is good.