Work Text:
Zoro scowls as he steps out into bright sunshine, gaze sweeping the Thousand Sunny's deck, searching. It's a rare quiet day at sea for the Straw Hat Pirates; Zoro should be grateful for that, he supposes. Most of the crew are relaxing, lounging about in the warm sun or squirreled away belowdecks, finding ways to entertain themselves. Zoro would love to be doing the same. He'd love a good workout, or some meditation, or a nice nap on the grassy deck. But not today. Today, he's on a mission.
Spotting his target at last, he points his feet in the direction of the tangerine grove — and then stops short, hesitating. This is a terrible plan, he thinks, not for the first time. Unfortunately, his options are decidedly limited. Of all the guys on the ship, he's fairly certain that the only one who would be helpful in this endeavor is the very person he's trying to impress. The women are better possibilities, but every time the topic of his relationship comes up around Robin, she smiles so knowingly that it freaks him out a little bit. So that just leaves…
This is almost certainly a terrible plan. But let it never be said that Roronoa Zoro is a coward. Steeling himself, Zoro takes a deep breath and strides across the deck into the cool shade of the tangerine trees.
Nami peers at him over the rim of her sunglasses as he approaches. “About time. I was wondering when you were going to quit staring like you were trying to set me on fire with your mind.”
“I don't know what you're talking about,” Zoro growls, lying.
“Sure,” Nami smirks and lays back in her chair, sliding her glasses back up into place. “Is there something I can do for you, then?”
Zoro chews his lip for a moment. And then, against his better judgement, he forces the words out. “I need… a favor.”
“I'm not loaning you any more money. Unless three hundred percent interest sounds good to you,” she replies with a grin that he can only describe as predatory.
“It's not money.”
“No?” Nami raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “What, then?”
Zoro doesn't look at her, suddenly finding the leaves of the nearest tree extremely fascinating. “Ineedyoutoteachmetodance.”
Nami removes her sunglasses entirely, staring at him for so long that he starts to sweat. “What?”
“I said I need you to teach me to dance,” Zoro repeats reluctantly, still looking anywhere but at her. It doesn't help. Even in his limited periphery, he can still see the broad grin that spreads across her face.
“Yeah, that's what I thought you said,” she smirks. “This wouldn't have anything to do with your beau cooking up a storm down in the galley right now, would it?”
Zoro glares at her and doesn't deny it. She's right, of course. He knows full well that Sanji is currently harder at work than ever, because if there's any man in the world that can make even an anniversary stuck out at sea romantic, it's him. “...it might,” Zoro mutters, feeling heat begin to rise in the tips of his ears.
“He told us about the big picnic we'll all be having up here on deck for dinner tonight,” Nami says, her grin again becoming alarmingly shark-like. “I assume that means a steamy date night alone down in the kitchen for the two of you.”
Trying to ignore the warmth now spreading across his cheeks, Zoro doesn't deign to answer her. “Are you gonna teach me or not?”
“Sure,” Nami laughs at him. “And I'll tell you what… I won't even charge you for my time.”
That gets Zoro's attention. He glares at her, eye narrowed suspiciously. “Really?”
“You look so pitiful, I'll do it for free,” she smirks. “Just this once.”
An irritated growl rumbles in Zoro's chest, but he remembers just in time that he's trying to ask for help and bites back his snarky retort.
“You're so cute when you're trying to impress your man,” Nami teases, getting up from her chair. “Come on, then.”
“Huh? Where are we going?”
Pausing to look back at him over her shoulder, Nami replies, “Did you want to look like a fool right here on the deck in front of everybody? Or did you want a more private lesson?” Shaking her head, she walks away without waiting for an answer. “Let's go, lover boy.”
Already regretting this, Zoro heaves a deep sigh and follows her.
///
“Okay, I knew you would suck at this, but I didn't think you'd be this bad.”
The murderous glare that Zoro levels in her direction has cowed many a full grown man.
Nami stares back at him, unimpressed. “Seriously,” she says, “I didn't even know it was possible for you to get this in your own head about anything. This is more than I've seen you think in the entire three years that I've known you.”
“I'm not — shut up,” Zoro mutters, and immediately stumbles over his own feet again. “Shit.”
Nami laughs at him for a moment, but then her expression softens. “Honestly, I get it,” she says placatingly. “Romance isn't your thing. But it's your anniversary, and Sanji is working his butt off to make it special, and you want to make him feel special, too. It's sweet.” She gives his posture an appraising look and shakes her head. “But for real, you have got to relax. You're going about this all wrong.”
Zoro bristles, folding his arms across his chest. “I'm plenty relaxed,” he snaps tersely.
“Then quit acting like you're trying to fight someone!” Nami throws back at him, just as sharp.
He isn't sure what she means, but it's enough to give him pause. “Huh?”
Rolling her eyes to the heavens as though praying for patience, Nami jabs a finger at his crossed arms and replies, “I know trying to kill each other is a hobby for you two morons, but dancing isn't like that. It isn't a contest; it's cooperation. Instead of thinking the way you do when you're fighting Sanji, try thinking the way you do when you're fighting someone else with Sanji.”
Zoro frowns, but feels a bit of the tension in his muscles release in spite of himself.
“You guys have fought side-by-side for years,” Nami continues a bit more gently. “You know how he moves. You know how to be in sync with him. Just relax and dance with him the same way.”
Zoro acknowledges her with a low hum and doesn't say anything. It makes sense, in a weird way. He never has been graceful, certainly, not in the way Sanji is; but he's also never had any problem matching Sanji in battle when they face enemies together.
“C'mon,” Nami says a little impatiently. “Let's try it again.”
They practice a while longer before Nami at last declares Zoro not competent, but improved enough to be passable, at least. Zoro suspects that her insistence on stopping has less to do with actual faith in his abilities and more to do with the number of times he's stepped on her feet, but he doesn't complain. Armed with her vote of relative confidence, he heads off to prepare for his big night.
///
Sanji is bustling around the kitchen when Zoro enters, double checking that all the food he prepared for the rest of the crew made it up on deck for their picnic, and putting finishing touches on everything else he's made for their private dinner.
“There you are, Marimo,” he calls distractedly, removing a streaming pot from the stovetop with one hand while scooping up a taste of some kind of sauce from a different pan with the other. Then he finally looks up at Zoro and stops in his tracks, a slow grin lighting up his face. “Well, look at you,” he says playfully. “I didn't know sentient cactuses cleaned up so well.”
Zoro instinctively smooths the front of the emerald green dress shirt he'd bought just for tonight, already missing the weight of his swords at his hip. He feels off balance without them, which doesn't do anything to assuage the nerves fluttering in his stomach. He shrugs off the compliment, even as it brings a slight warmth back to his face.
“You don't look so bad yourself,” he answers as though Sanji doesn't look incredibly hot, actually. In lieu of a full suit, he's wearing a silvery-grey vest and slacks, neatly tailored to accentuate his trim waist and strong thighs, and a wavy blue dress shirt that perfectly brings out the color of his eyes.
“Glad to hear it,” Sanji says, a hint of laughter in his voice because he's stunning and he knows it. “Are you planning to stand in the doorway all night, or did you want to come in and eat with me?”
At that moment, Zoro thinks he'd like to eat Sanji even more than the food. But he closes the door behind him in silence and moves to join his boyfriend in the kitchen proper, directing his attention toward the various dishes set out on the counter before he can get too excited. As he'd expected, Sanji has outdone himself, cooking up a feast of sea king, fresh ramen, spicy seafood pasta, onigiri, and a few dishes Zoro doesn't remember ever seeing before.
“Hey.” Sanji's hand finds Zoro's jaw, gently tilting his head until their eyes meet. “Happy anniversary, Marimo.”
Zoro leans into the familiar touch, nerves settling with his proximity to the man he loves. “Happy anniversary, Cook.”
“C'mon,” Sanji says with another grin. “Let's eat all this food I worked so hard on before I decide I'd rather eat you instead.”
Zoro lets out a sharp laugh, because he should've known he wasn't the only one struggling to keep his mind out of the gutter. He swoops in to press a quick kiss to Sanji's cheek, and Sanji practically glows as they find their seats, leaning into each other's space as they dig in to the delicious-smelling food.
It's rare for the two of them to be able to share a meal alone. Eating with the whole crew always proves to be entertaining, but there's something about eating with only Sanji that Zoro loves. He gets to watch Sanji enjoy the food he works so hard on, gets to claim all of his attention without worrying about anyone else listening in. When there's silence between them, it's easy and comfortable; even when their conversation turns into a ridiculous argument over who had taken out more Marines in their last fight, the silly bickering is familiar and interspersed with laughter.
The debate continues as they finish their meals and fall into the same rhythm they always do afterward, with Sanji at the sink washing and Zoro at his side drying. Even the mundane task of cleaning up is made more pleasant by working together. It goes quickly, and before Zoro knows it, the kitchen is spotless and Sanji is leaning into his side, watching him with half-lidded eyes as he sets the last of the dishes to rest in its proper place. Zoro's breath catches as a hand finds the small of his back and glides up his spine and the back of his neck; the moment the final pan is put away where it belongs, those fingers burrow into his hair and use it to drag him into a deep, passionate kiss. He groans softly against Sanji's lips, electricity tingling under his skin as blunt fingernails lightly scratch at his scalp.
When Sanji at last releases him, both their faces are flushed with want, the air between them hot and charged. “My Marimo,” he purrs, leaning in close. “Should we take this back to our cabin, mon amour?”
Zoro shivers slightly, wanting nothing more than to agree. But for the moment, he has something else in mind. “Wait,” he manages a little breathlessly, nerves flaring up again.
Sanji tilts his head, confused. “Wait?”
With enormous effort, Zoro pulls himself away and walks over to the nearest porthole. As Sanji watches curiously, he pushes it open, reaches outside, and raps sharply on the side of the hull.
“What in the world are you — ”
Sanji's question is answered before he can finish asking it, as gentle violin music begins to drift into the room through the open window.
With a steadying breath, Zoro holds out a hand and, as Nami had instructed, says, “May I have this dance?”
Sanji's face registers surprise for just a moment before it's overtaken with delight. Grinning, he accepts the offered hand and allows himself to be drawn into Zoro's arms — where they both hesitate awkwardly, bumping into each other as they try to find the right positions.
With an expression that suggests he's trying very hard not to laugh, Sanji at last says, “Marimo?”
Turning redder by the second, Zoro answers, “...yeah?”
“Where did you learn to dance?”
An unpleasant suspicion begins to creep into Zoro's mind. The back of his neck prickles. “Nami.”
“And… did she specify that she was going to teach you to lead?”
“No,” Zoro admits, his voice slightly strained.
Sanji does laugh at that, just a little. “She taught you the women's part, Marimo.”
“That witch.”
“Don't call her that.”
Zoro does his best not to glare at him. “I just wanted to surprise you.”
The bright grin returns to Sanji's face, warm and affectionate. “You did surprise me,” he says reassuringly. “We can still dance. Is it okay if I lead?”
Not seeing any other option, Zoro nods.
Sanji adjusts his position, shifting a hand to Zoro's waist, where he pauses for a moment. “Are you wearing your harimaki under your dress shirt?”
“Oh…. yeah.” Zoro hadn't even thought about it while he was getting dressed, automatically seeking out the familiar comfort in his nervousness.
The look on Sanji's face is impossibly fond as he leans in to kiss the tip of Zoro's nose. “You're so cute.”
“Am not,” Zoro mutters.
“Are so.”
“I'm terrifying.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself, chéri,” Sanji grins. “Now come on; I was offered a dance, and I expect to get one.”
Zoro sighs and, for once, lets the argument go. As Sanji begins to move, he follows along, falling into step with the rhythm of the music.
To his great surprise, it's easy. He'd struggled to dance with Nami, but with Sanji to guide him, Zoro finds all of his unease melting away. The soulful tones of Brook’s violin surround the two of them like a warm blanket, carrying them closer and closer as they turn and sway in perfect sync. Every time they catch each other's gaze, the beautiful, genuine smile on Sanji's face makes Zoro's heart beat a little faster.
It's impossible to say how long it lasts. Zoro loses himself in the movement, in the closeness, in Sanji. At some point while they're caught up in the spell of their dance, the hand at Zoro's waist slides down to his hip, coming to rest where the familiar weight of his swords normally sits. The touch is grounding, settling him in a way he hadn't even realized he wanted, and he sinks farther still into Sanji's arms. What could be minutes, hours, or days later when the last song finally fades, he finds the two of them pressed into each other's arms, both holding tight.
Sanji wraps his arms fully around Zoro's waist as they come to a stop, turning his head to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Marimo,” he murmurs happily. “That was a wonderful surprise.” Then he laughs softly and adds, “Now that I know you can dance, we're definitely doing this again.”
Zoro's heart does a little somersault, and he pulls back just enough to see Sanji's face. That radiant smile is still in place, so bright the cook is practically glowing. Zoro knows he couldn't say no to him if he wanted to. “Okay.”
Sanji grins again, eyes sparkling with amusement, and then releases Zoro and takes a deep breath. “Well, as long as we're surprising each other…”
Zoro can only watch, a little stunned, as Sanji reaches into his pocket, pulls out a small box, holds it out to him — and opens it to reveal a shining gold ring with three angled lines of silver cutting across one side of the band.
Too surprised to think of anything else, all Zoro manages is an incredulous, “Are you serious?”
“Wha— really?” Sanji says, affronted. “Of course I'm serious.”
“I try to be romantic for once, and you just have to outdo me,” Zoro mutters, shaking his head.
Heat rises in Sanji's face, and he jabs a finger into Zoro's chest in irritation. “Says the man trying to turn my proposal into an argument!”
“I mean, I'm obviously gonna marry you, but c'mon! Seriously?”
“I haven't even asked you yet, idiot swordsman!”
“Then hurry up and do it, stupid cook!”
Even as their voices begin to rise in volume, a poorly-hidden smirk begins to emerge on each of their faces, both of them unable to help enjoying the familiar bickering.
“Why should I ask now?” Sanji says. “You already answered me!”
“Then why the hell isn't there a ring on my finger?” Zoro challenges without missing a beat.
Finally unable to contain himself, Sanji accidentally lets out an ungraceful snort of laughter. Zoro follows, failing to hide a crooked grin in time. Shaking his head in mock irritation, Sanji at last grabs hold of Zoro's left hand and slides the ring onto his finger, holding on a moment longer to admire the way it looks there.
“You're the worst,” Sanji says lightly, unable to wipe the smile from his face. I can't believe I'm gonna marry you.”
“You're the worst,” Zoro answers, happier than he ever knew he could be. “I'm gonna marry you harder.”
Sanji laughs again and pulls him back into his arms. “In your dreams, Marimo.”
Zoro kisses him.
///
Late in the night, Zoro and Sanji's shared cabin is dark and silent. Faint moonlight filters through the porthole, offering just enough illumination to make the gold band around Zoro's finger glow softly. He finds himself staring at it as he lays on Sanji's bare chest, unable to tear his eyes away.
Beneath him, Sanji stirs lightly, the pattern of his steady breath changing as he wakes. One of his hands drifts up Zoro's back to settle in his hair, stroking it gently.
“Still awake, mon amour?” he murmurs softly, his voice a warm accompaniment to the easy shushing of the waves outside in the darkness.
“How'd you know?” Zoro asks, just as quiet.
A low chuckle rumbles in Sanji's chest. “You weren't snoring.”
Zoro considers glaring at him for a moment, before deciding he's too comfortable to be irritated.
“Not having second thoughts, are you?” Sanji asks, a note of something just a little too genuine creeping into his voice.
Zoro does raise his head to look up at him then, their eyes meeting in the low light. Sanji flushes slightly, unable to hide the brief expression of vulnerability from his face in time.
“Of course I'm not,” Zoro replies firmly. “Are you?”
“No,” Sanji says with a tiny shake of his head.
“Good. We're on the same page then.”
They remain that way for a long moment, unable to tear their eyes away. Then Sanji's breath catches as Zoro reaches up to brush a finger across his curtain of hair, pushing it away until his entire face is exposed. Zoro drinks in the sight of him, memorizing every beautiful inch.
“I learned to dance for you tonight, Curly,” he says, as though it explains everything. “Do you really think I'd do something like that for anyone less than the man I want to spend the rest of my life with?”
In spite of himself, Sanji can't help letting out a reluctant laugh. “You're such an idiot.”
“An idiot you proposed to,” Zoro grins down at him. “So what does that make you?”
Relaxing as his anxiety dissipates in a surge of warm relief, Sanji's eyes crinkle with a fond, genuine smile. “A fool in love, I guess.”
Zoro laughs, his eye sparkling with mirth and affection in the low light. “Guess that makes two of us, then.”