Chapter Text
Clear skies, a light breeze, and the warmth of the day still leached into the wood of the crow’s nest. It won’t be there much longer, but Zoro leans into it, head tilted to look at the stars.
It’s a nice night so far, quiet except for the lapping of waves against the hull and the clatter of dishes from the galley.
Everyone but Zoro and the cook is asleep.
It’s not unheard of for Sanji to still be awake this late. It annoyed Zoro at first; he enjoys the long stretch of silence his extended watch allows him, the only real break from the chaos he’s found himself in, and the cook’s clanking and puttering in the galley had shattered that. At least he thought that way until Curly broke his damn back and was banned from the kitchen for two days.
Those nights had been so quiet it set Zoro on edge, and he realized he’s used to the noise. Now it’s just as comforting as the waves to him, another sign that everything is right on their little ship.
The cook is pretty quiet anyway.
At least.
He usually is.
Which is why Zoro knows something is wrong when he hears something shatter, followed by a loud thud against the galley door before it’s yanked open. Sanji stumbles through it, slamming against the railing and spinning around to stare back into the galley.
Zoro waits for something to come through after him, but the cook just stands there, chest heaving like he’s out of breath. Zoro’s about to call out to the idiot when he finally notices the slight tremble in his frame.
He’s never seen the cook scared before; it makes him uneasy.
Drawing Wado, Zoro drops to the deck quietly. Sanji doesn’t acknowledge him as he approaches, eyes glued to the galley. His face is pale, sweat running down his brow and past unfocused eyes. The man is practically hyperventilating.
“Cook?” he whispers, grabbing at his shoulder to try and shake him out of it.
Sanji gasps, flinching away and turning to look at the swordsman. As soon as blue eyes meet his own, the cook stumbled backwards, falling on his ass.
Zoro tsks, peering into the galley to see what has the man so shaken. There are still dishes in the sink, porcelain shards, and a smoldering cigarette on the floor close by. It’s empty, no sign of an intruder, or anything that could put his typically composed crewmate in such a state.
Glancing back, he finds Sanji now backed up against the bulwark, knees against his chest and still trembling. He has his eyes shut tight, a hand gripping firmly at blond hair.
Whatever the cause, it’s quickly dawning on Zoro that the blond is having a panic attack.
Confident there’s no danger, he returns Wado to her sheath and tries to decide his next step. He briefly considers getting someone else, but the cook has as much pride as Zoro himself, and he’d sooner swallow his sword than have his crewmates catch him in such a vulnerable state.
Grimacing, he sits against the galley wall, resting his swords on the ground next to him and glancing sideways at the other. “You’re safe, Curly,” he says tentatively. “Just try to breathe.”
Sanji gasps very suddenly, eyes flying open. “Z-Zoro?”
Despite the recognition, he’s still hyperventilating. “Oi, you got to breathe, you’re gonna make yourself pass out.”
A thready, “can’t,” is the only reply.
“Shit.” He moves closer, watching for any negative reaction. Sanji watches him closely but lets him settle against the bulwark next to him. “Can I touch you?” He asks.
The cook takes a minute to reply, but eventually gives him a short nod.
“I’m gonna take your hand and put it on my chest, okay?” he explains, telegraphing his movement. “Can you let go of your hair? Promis it won’t go anywhere,” he jokes. It gets him glared at, but the cook listens, unclenching his fist until Zoro is able to pry it away. He places it against his chest, taking an exaggerated breath and counting in his head. “Try to match me.”
It takes a few minutes, but Sanji’s breathing eventually evens out. Zoro knows he’s through the worst of it when he wrenches his hand away and lets out a quiet ‘fuck’.
“Back with me shit-cook?”
“Fuck off shitty swordsman,” he grumbles, voice weary. He curls up tighter, wrapping his arms around his legs, head resting against his knees.
Zoro only shrugs, looking back at the sky and letting Sanji collect himself.
He’s just started to doze when he feels Sanji grab his pants leg, the blond is turned away, hiding behind his bangs. Zoro grunts, letting him know he’s listening.
“There’s a bug,” he mutters. “Can you get it?”
“Really?” It slips out before he can think better of it.
Sanji tenses before shooting to his feet. “Never mind.” Zoro scrambles after him as he storms towards the galley door, grabbing his swords in the process. The cook stops dead right in front of the doorway, jaw firmly set. He looks like he’s going to war, not trying to kill a bug.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to… let me take care of it,” he tries.
“It’s fine, Mosshead,” he hisses. “Go back to your watch.” Despite his words, the cook doesn’t budge.
After it becomes clear the cook isn’t going to enter the galley anytime soon, Zoro pushes past him, scanning the floor for any sign of the pest. “Where did you see it?”
“…by the sink.”
It doesn’t take too long to find, the second he sees movement Zoro drops to the floor, cupping his hands over it. Anywhere else he would just kill it, but he doubts the cook wants bug guts in his kitchen. Grimacing against weird skittering in his hands, he scoops it up and starts walking back out, Sanji scooting away from the door to let him pass.
He scowls at it as he drops it into the sea. For such a small, harmless creature, it’s sure caused a lot of trouble.
Sanji joins him, accompanied by the snick of a lighter and the smell of tobacco. He’s stopped shaking finally, shoulders slumped and hands falling limply as soon as his cigarette is lit, weighed down by a fatigue Zoro remembers well.
Sanji is the first to break the silence, voice still rough. “How’d you know what to do?”
Zoro sighs, frowning at the old shame it brings up. “I used to get them when I was a kid,” he mumbles. “Does that happen often?”
Sanji laughs humorously. “No,” he replies. “Haven’t had one in years.”
“I find it hard to believe you haven’t seen a bug in ten years.”
“Yeah, well, they usually don’t crawl on me in the middle of the ocean when I’m lost in thought,” he explains, voice biting.
Zoro grunts his acknowledgement, but doesn’t say anything else. It must make Sanji antsy because he very quickly follows up with, “you aren’t going to ask me why?”
He raises a brow. “You really want to have a heart to heart Curly?”
He’s rewarded with a genuine laugh, loud and obnoxious. “Fuck no!” He takes a drag from his cigarette, blowing smoke into Zoro’s face. “I’ve already talked to your annoying ass too long. I’ve got dishes to do.”
Zoro suppresses the urge to cough, unwilling to give Cook the satisfaction. “Whatever,” he grumbles, stepping away to return to the crow’s nest.
“Wait!” He’s stopped when the cook grabs his haramaki. Zoro looks back at him, confused. He’s biting his lip, unwilling to look Zoro in the eye. “Swear not to tell anyone and I’ll give you booze.”
He wouldn’t have anyway, but if the cook is offering… “Deal.”
Sanji tells him to stay put before disappearing into the galley, reemerging holding a clear bottle with amber liquid. Zoro reaches for it but the cook pulls it against his chest. “Swear you won’t say anything.”
He rolls his eyes. “Swordsman’s honor.”
After eyeing him a moment longer the cook finally passes it over. “If I find out you said something I’ll kill you, I mean it Mosshead. Not a word.”
“Relax, Curly. I’m not going to.” As soon as he has it in hand, he pops the cork and takes a swig. It’s straight whiskey, strong with that pleasant burn as it goes down. He hummed his appreciation, restarting his return to the crows nest. As he reached the rigging, he looks back and says, “thanks, Cook. Wasn’t actually gonna tell anyone anyway, but I appreciate the booze.”
“Cheating bastard!” a hand grazes his ankle as he scurries up away from the angry cook, cackling. “Give it back!” Despite how angry he sounds, Zoro catches the twitch at the corner of his mouth.
They both startle when the hatching slams open, followed by a shouting redhead. “Oi! Keep it down you two! I’m trying to sleep!”
“Ah, Nami-san!” The cooks face goes beat red as he starts to croon. “I’m so sorry the brute woke you up, would you like some chamomile to help you fall back asleep?”
Before she can reply Zoro shouts back at her, “can it witch!”
“Don’t call her that shitty swordsman!”
“Both of you shut up!” Nami cries once more before slamming the hatch shut, leaving the two in awkward silence.
Zoro snickers at the cooks flushed face, clearly embarrassed. He looks like he wants to keep yelling at him, but too scared to further Nami’s ire he spins back around and stomps into the galley, almost slamming the door shut before he thinks better of it.
It doesn’t take long for the sounds of clinking dishes to pick back up, and Zoro settles back into the crow’s nest to listen, savoring his new drink and feeling content after a job well done.
He’s protected his crewmate tonight, even if it’s just from bugs and their own brain.
Alabasta was already ridiculously eventful and they hadn’t even been there a full day yet. Seeing Tashigi again had really thrown him to start with, and then Luffy led the Marines to them, and then they had met Luffy’s brother, who took down five ships in one go like it was nothing.
Zoro really needs a nap.
But he feels a too tightly wound to sleep. They’re in potentially dangerous territory, he’s still feeling off kilter from running into Tashigi, and there’s a stranger on their boat.
Maybe it’s unfair to Ace. He seems like a good guy, oddly polite, and a great older brother to boot.
Still, Zoro’s restless.
He tried working out some to take the edge off, tried talking with Ace, tried meditating, but he’s just wired.
Currently he’s sitting on the main deck, arms behind his head and eyes closed in the vain hope that maybe he’ll fall asleep if he tries hard enough.
It doesn’t seem to be working, but he can at least enjoy laying in the heat, listening to his nakama chattering at the other end of the deck.
His relaxation is interrupted by the sound of someone in dress shoes approaching. They stop just to his right, and he braces for whatever insults or gripe Curly has for him this time. If the cook want’s to pick a fight then Zoro’s more than game. Maybe that will settle him.
He cracks an eye open when a shoe lightly taps his knee because it’s strange. Sanji doesn’t do soft, if he wants Zoro’s attention he yells or kicks him over the head.
The blond looks embarrassed, eyes darting between Zoro and the wall, mouth pressed into a thin line. But the cook doesn’t get embarrassed, even when he’s making a total fool of himself just to fawn over women.
The only time Zoro has seen him embarrassed is when…
Zoro huffs, still a little miffed to be disturbed, but if Sanji is asking him for help, then he must be desperate.
A quick glance shows that everyone is distracted listening to Ace tell some story on the other end of the Merry. Not needing to put on a show, he quietly stands and makes his way to the galley.
Sanji trails after him, stopping just inside, eyes darting around.
“Where,” he grumbles.
“By the provisions.”
It takes a minute to find, pushing crates and burlap sacks around until it shows it’s face by flying out at Zoro. The cook makes a strangled high pitched noise like he’s just barely stopped himself from screaming. It’s comedic, but his focus is on catching the damn thing so Sanji is spared any mocking.
He manages to get his hands around it midflight, it’s wings aggressively buzzing as it tries to fly away before settling. Same as the other night, Sanji gives him a wide berth as he takes it outside.
Uncupping his hands, the thing doesn’t take off immediately, content to stay perched on his palms for whatever reason. It’s a beetle of all things. A pretty iridescent blue green, large but narrow and shiny. It’s a shame the cook doesn’t like bugs, Zoro think’s he’d find the color pretty.
“What do you have there Mr. Bushido?” Vivi asks. She’s left the others and wandered over for whatever reason. He shrugs angling his hands so she can see the thing.
“Oh!” a smile breaks out on her face. “A jewel beetle! What an odd place to find one. They’re usually further inland. Such beautiful creatures aren’t they?”
“Sure. I guess,” he mumbles.
“It’s good fortune to find one you know,” she continues, eyes alight with joy. It’s nice seeing her passion for a part of her home. She’s been non-stop stressed for weeks now, and everyone can see it wearing on her. “They’re symbols of rebirth, or change; a sign good things are on the horizon.”
“Here,” he prompts taking one of her hands and letting the beetle crawl onto it.
She looks surprised before her expression turns soft. “Thank you, Zoro.”
After a blinding smile that makes his chest squeeze in a weird way, she returns to the main deck to show the rest of the crew, excitedly explaining its significance to everyone. Nami looks like she wants to cry as soon as she sees the bug, but she stays put and nods along to what the princess is saying.
“You’re turning into such a softie Moss.” Zoro looks back to see Sanji leaning against the galley doorframe, taking a drag from a newly lit cigarette. His eyes are still trained on where the bug is being passed between everyone who isn’t scared of it, slight grimace pulling at his lips. “That was so sweet I think my teeth are rotting.”
Zoro smirks. “Well, it’s not like you’re face can get much worse.”
“Shut up!” a foot slams into the back of his knee almost toppling him. “Like you’re one to talk!” Another kick is aimed for his midsection, so he grabs the cooks ankle keeping him in place even when Curly tries to yank his foot back. “You’re so fucking annoying!”
Finally he lets go, shoving past the cook to get into the galley. “So am I your personal pest control now or something?” he asks, sitting down at the table.
Sanji sniffs, turning his nose up. “At least you’re finally useful for something.”
“Sure.” He shrugs before folding his arms on the table to pillow his head.
Sanji walks up right behind him, voice clipped when he asks, “what are you doing?”
“You interrupted my nap.”
“So go back to your nap,” he snaps. “Get out of my kitchen. You’re stinking up the place”
“What if there are more bugs?”
“Don’t fucking say that!” Sanji screeches. “I hate you so much.”
He hums, already drifting off.
The cook doesn’t kick him out.
The white canvas ceiling is taunting Zoro, he’s sure of it. He’s been looking at it so long he can see individual threads.
Zoro’s not sure why he’s even awake. After such a long day with only one nap in the galley, he expected to sleep through the night as soon as his watch was over. Instead he wakes up only a few hours later.
He only knows the time because Sanji isn’t in the men’s tent and he has the third watch.
After half an hour Zoro knows falling back asleep is futile, he might as well let Curly off the hook if he’s going to be awake anyway.
Carefully extracting himself from Luffy and Chopper’s hold, Zoro pulls his coat tighter around himself before stepping outside.
This chill is bitting against his face, but Zoro has always been good at toughing it out. Sanji doesn’t seem to have the same ability. He’s sat as close to the fire as he can get without his clothes catching. His hands are shaking slightly as he struggles to light up.
It reminds him of the multiple times he saw Ace help Sanji light his cigarette throughout the day. It’s hilarious watching the guy vie so hard for the cooks attention considering how it’s clear to anyone with eyes that the man is painfully straight. But that somehow hadn’t deterred Ace from checking Sanji out all day.
It makes sense that Luffy’s brother would be just as big of a dreamer.
He can see the cook getting frustrated the longer his hands refuse to cooperate. With a put upon sigh, Zoro drops down next to him and snatches the lighter out of his hands, getting it lit in a few flicks and holding it out for the other.
It takes a few seconds of Sanji glaring at him before he accepts the help. “What are you doing out here Marimo.”
“Can’t sleep,” he says simply.
“Really? Thought you could fall asleep anywhere. You sure love to pass out in the most inconvenient places,” he gripes.
“Whatever curly-brow,” he growls. A log split in the fire pit, snuffing out some of the flames. Sanji was quick to add another, somehow shuffling even closer and holding his hands dangerously close to the flames.
“I’ll take over if you want to get some sleep,” he offers.
“It’s fine,” Sanji mutters. “I don’t want to leave the fire yet.”
Leaning back on his hands, he tilts his head towards Sanji with a wide smirk. “I’m sure Ace will keep you warm if you ask”
“The fuck are you on about?” he responds, confusion clear on his face.
“Don’t be dense Cook. He’s been eyeing you up all day.”
“What!” The response is startlingly loud in the dead of night. He quickly slaps a hand over his mouth, zeroing in on the girls’ tent and waiting to see if he woke Nami again.
Zoro is trying really hard to keep his laughter quiet.
When Nami doesn’t emerge to yell at them for waking her, Sanji turns back to him hissing, “fucking explain.”
“He keeps lighting your cigarettes as an excuse to get close to you.”
“He’s nice!”
Zoro leans closer, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “He wants to fuck.”
“You’re delusional.” Sanji replies flatly.
“And you’re being obtuse.”
“Big words for a man with moss for brains.”
Zoro ignores the jab, not so easily distracted. “He looks at you like Luffy looks at meat.”
“Why the hell would Ace be looking at me?”
That makes Zoro pause, because the man looks genuinely confused. He thought Curly was maybe just uncomfortable with the idea of a man looking at him like that, or was unaware of queer people in general. Except that last little bit sounded more like insecurity than ignorance.
He must be imagining things because how the cook couldn’t know he’s attractive is beyond Zoro.
Because he is, stupidly so, with his long legs, pretty face and boyish charm. Effortlessly cool one moment and then endearingly sweet the next. He must know that there’s some appeal to him because he flaunts it, prancing about all graceful and flirtatious, only ruined by the incessant simpering around women.
Maybe he’s just fishing for compliments.
And Zoro definitely wouldn’t live it down if he fell into that trap.
A gust of wind blows through, and the cook shivers violently next to him, wrapping his arms tight to try and stave it off. Zoro sighs, shucking off his coat and throwing it at the other. “Go to bed already Cook.”
Sanji doesn’t move for long enough that Zoro almost tries to tell him again, but the cook breaks from whatever stupor he’s in and pulls the coat over his own and stands.
“Night, Marimo.”
“Night."