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Chapter Text

Between the new intern nervously dropping freshly-washed plates on the floor and the incredibly busy dinner rush that night, Sanji only had five minutes for his smoke break, and even that was cutting it close.

Pointer finger bandaged tightly (stupid, he'd cut it helping Usopp clean the plate shards up as he tried not to yell at the poor kid), Sanji tapped impatiently against the pack of smokes in his jacket pocket as he maneuvered himself through the organized chaos of Le Tout Bleu's kitchen. Small nicks from knives in the kitchen were inevitable, of course, but whenever possible, Sanji took the best possible care of his hands.

As Sanji entered the back hallway, Usopp's loud, teary I'm sorrys faded away. Back here were extra freezers, closets for non-kitchen things, and the loading dock for the supply trucks. There was also a small door that led to the alley out back and also served as the staff entrance.

Thank fuck!

They hadn't had a night this busy in a while; some bigshots had a table today, he knew, from Robin giving him the rundown this morning. He had better things to do than gawk at movie stars, though, so he'd left any excessive pandering of the rich to Robin and his more than capable hospitality team.

From what he'd heard in an update about an hour ago, their work was really cut out for them; fans and press kept trying to get in. What a mess.

He shook a cigarette out of the pack, the act of smacking the small box against his palm and the familiar motions of his fingers almost as soothing as the actual nicotine itself. He turned the handle of the door and pushed it open with his shoulder.

The door hit something—someone?—because there was a yelp from the other side and a thud.

"What the hell?" Sanji said out loud, confused, and stuck his head out.

And holy shit—there was a small group of people out there, dressed in dark colors, cameras slung around their necks. The closest, now on the ground and clutching their head where presumably Sanji had hit them with the door, had a high-tech camera as well.

Sanji stuffed his cigarette back into his pocket and bellowed, "Are you fucking breaking into my restaurant!?"

Six in total, five clustered close, one hanging back a bit. All adults. No one looked that alarmed to see him.

"Look," said the next-closest guy, still standing. He held a camera tripod in his hand in a way Sanji had never seen before—like it was a weapon. "We just want to get in and out, get some pics of Mihawk."

"Oh hell no," Sanji growled. "You all have five seconds to get the fuck away from me." He pointed at the camera on the wall above the door. "And another five seconds to start running, 'cause you can bet your asses the cops are going to see that camera footage!"

The smarmy tripod-holder advanced closer at the same time as the person he'd knocked over with the door. "We have enough cash to make it worth your while," he started to say, but he reached into his jacket pocket, grabbing something unseen, and Sanji reacted instinctively.

He flung his tall chef's hat at the man's face, startling him, and followed it with a roundhouse kick to the side of his head. His special anti-slip shoes he wore in the kitchen weren't great for fighting but they still made a satisfying thunk right into the chest of the next one. He flew back onto the pavement.

At age seventeen he'd lost his first restaurant job for kicking the sorry ass of a customer who talked shit about his food. Since then he'd had plenty of close calls, but no more fights in a restaurant per se—and maybe this didn't even count, as it was the alley just behind.

But this was Le Tout Bleu, his own restaurant, his dream, the thing he worked for every damn day of his life until his early thirties. And five years later, this was his fucking home.

"Oh my god, he's actually fighting back," someone gasped, and the voice sounded feminine, so Sanji left her alone, the one in the back. But the other three had rallied after the first two went down, probably unconscious. Sanji ducked a clumsy swing and grunted as something crashed into his face; it was the only thing these paparazzi had to fight with, and that was evidently a camera. It split the skin, and Sanji felt hot blood start to seep down from his hairline.

Smooth as anything, Sanji flipped forward into a handstand and spun, his feet kicking two of them hard enough to send them down hard. He cartwheeled, a blur in his large white chef's jacket, hair all over the place, and came up with enough momentum to drive his knee into the solar plexus of the last man.

Gasping, the man went down on his knees, joining the others on the pavement, slightly-damp from the frigid fog that rolled in off the ocean earlier that evening.

Sanji stood there, chest heaving, adrenaline making every bit of his body sing. He closed his one eye, ignoring the blood slowly trickling down his face, and pulled out his cigarette.

He sparked his lighter, the gold one he always had on him, and lit the cigarette, staring down the woman in the back, filming him.

"I- I got all of that," she said faintly.

"I don't give a fuck," Sanji rasped. He inhaled deep and looked up at the night sky, exhaling the smoke in a long, thick stream. "Get these assholes out of my sight, and don't come back."

Sanji finished his cigarette in record time. When the one he'd kneed got his breath back, he tried to swipe at Sanji's ankles, but Sanji kicked him in the side, setting off another round of pathetic gasping and coughing.

Sanji tossed the butt of his cigarette onto the first guy he'd knocked out and went back inside with his key. Of course the door locked automatically—they couldn't have people sneaking in the back just like that.

Rage bubbled up inside him like the froth from champagne; that miserable fight had shook him up, and he wasn't panicking but he was something close to it, something similar to when your fight or flight kicked in and Sanji'd always chosen fight. He felt like he could burst.

Sanji barricaded the back door, kicking one of the waist-height freezers in front of the door, uncaring if it unplugged the thing. Then he swept out of the back hallway and through the kitchen, chef's coat loose from his fight and billowing out behind him like some sort of pissed-off avenging angel.

Kiku gave a small shout when she saw him, and the kitchen's sous-chef being anything less than her professional, put-together self made everyone else turn and spot him.

"Keep cooking!" Sanji barked, making his way past them all. "Don't fall behind! I've got this!"

Sanji burst out of the kitchen and into the main dining area. The sounds of cutlery on plates and soft conversation stopped rather quickly. Sanji ignored his customers, though, his vision dark and tunneled and focused, and he stormed out the front door into the crowd gathered outside. They never had people waiting by the doors like this; Le Tout Bleu was almost entirely reservation-only, because they were fucking good and people came and he'd worked for this.

Robin was there, at his elbow, trying to stop him and see what was going on. Sanji shook her off, repeating I've got this, I've got this and stopped still once the front door closed behind him. He'd guard this place with his fucking life.

"IF YOU DON'T HAVE A RESERVATION," Sanji bellowed into the crowd of gawkers trying to see in their windows at whoever-the-hell, "I NEED YOU TO GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY RESTAURANT RIGHT THIS INSTANT."

He turned his scathing one-eyed glare on a bunch of teenagers waving signs who had made it the closest, grubby hands leaving streaks on the glass his custodians had to painstakingly clean every morning before they opened for service.

"Now!" Sanji yelled, when, perhaps in shock, no one moved. He gestured wildly with his arms, telling them get back, and to his immense satisfaction, people started scrambling away.

One asshole crept forward though, in an ugly mish-mash of dreary-looking designer brands. "I'm the head of Perona's fanclub, and I can very well be where I please—"

"And this is my private business, and this side of the street is mine, asshole," Sanji sneered. Blood pounded in his ears and gushed from his temple. "And I can use reasonable force to defend it, and myself, as well as decide who to refuse service to! So back the fuck up."

The man got closer, but he was, luckily, the only one; everyone else was gone now, watching from the middle of the street or on the other side, holding up traffic.

Sanji held out his hand. "Not another step."

Cockily, the man got closer, and crooned, "Or what? Some random chef will go to jail for assault?"

Sanji brought one leg sky-high, his thighs not even protesting from all the practice at savate class over the years, and brought the back of his heel down hard directly on the man's head. He instantly crumpled onto Le Tout Bleu's doorstep.

One hit!

Had this been a savate match, or really any other fucking occasion, Sanji may have been pretty damn impressed with his own ability to still be really goddamn cool, even at age thirty-seven.

Instead, Sanji scowled at the shocked group of people across the street and spun on his heel, headed back inside.

Robin and Conis, head of hospitality were there, and every other employee that evidently had found the time to stop what they were doing and stare. Usopp's legs were shaking so bad the kid looked like he was going to fall over, and that finally snapped Sanji out of his fog of anger a bit.

"Ice?" Sanji prompted Usopp, and the intern nodded shakily before running into the back.

Sanji sighed, wiped blood away from the one side of his face with his sleeve, and addressed the eerily silent dining room at large: "Sorry for that incident, mes amis—please continue enjoying your meals. I'm not in the business of letting my customers be disturbed by others when they are here."

He bowed low at the waist, begging their forgiveness, then stood: Police to call, undoubtedly a shitstorm of things to deal with now.

"Hey!" a customer called.

He was a young-looking man with black hair seated at the table beside the one that caused all this drama, Sanji could only presume. He recognized the beautiful woman with the pink hair from an ad on his television just that morning. Sanji raised an eyebrow, waiting, and the man continued, "You really kicked his ass! That was so cool! Well done."

He grinned widely around a mouthful of lobster and Sanji couldn't help but smile back, the rage fading into something like dumbstruck amusement as the past five minutes sunk in.

"Thank you," he said, bowing again, and a couple of the customers clapped for him, and awkward laughter went through the crowd. Absurd.

Now blushing, Sanji hurried into his office, in another back hallway along Le Tout Bleu's side facing the ocean. His office window looked out there, and it was everything he'd ever wanted.

Fuck.

Usopp brought him ice and Sanji pressed clean kitchen towels to his bleeding gash as he explained what happened, first out back, and then right in front.

Robin, his best friend for over twenty years now, did not seem that worried for him or even that shocked; she seemed proud, even, smiling to herself even as she dialed the cops (who were probably already on their way). Usopp looked faint, though, and Sanji made him sit with his head between his knees.

Then came the long process of waiting for the police (who at least abided by their request to park in back, as to not cause another scene in front of the restaurant) and paramedics who gathered up the guy in front (who wasn't fucking dead thank you very much, Usopp). Everyone whose ass he kicked in the back was long gone.

Sanji recounted his story over and over and over. They showed the police the footage from their cameras, which clearly showed people fiddling and messing with the lock out back. They got statements from him, his staff, and even a few customers.

What. A fucking. Mess.

The only two good things that happened was that Sanji was allowed to go home after the cops reviewed some video they had seen on social media, and that Conis told him in a small, awed voice, that tips tonight had been astronomical.

Kiku and Robin kicked him out before closing, saying he had to rest; Kiku could run the whole restaurant herself blindfolded, and Sanji felt no nervousness leaving things in her hands.

Guilt was starting to creep in, though, and Sanji snuck out the back and dragged his sorry ass home. His jacket was ruined, obviously, a whole sleeve and the collar stained as shit.

He turned off his phone, showered, smoked, downed too much wine, and hoped that when he woke he'd still have Le Tout Bleu.

Sanji woke to banging on his front door. He laid there for a moment, irritated, staring at his ceiling, as it continued.

"Chef Black!"

Oh! That wasn't Robin, like he assumed—that was the voice of Le Tout Bleu's social media manager, a part-timer.

"Hold on," Sanji called, voice a rough, ragged thing. He staggered to the door after pulling on some sweats and a shirt. The bandaged cut on his head hurt like fuck.

Coby spilled into Sanji's apartment talking a mile a minute the moment Sanji opened the door. Sanji didn't hear a fucking word.

"Slow down," he said, "And start over. And why are you here?"

Coby certainly had no reason to visit Sanji's personal home before; he wasn't even aware Coby knew where he lived. Coby was looking around not-so-subtly and said, "Nice apartment, Chef Black," before launching into his explanation:

"Your cell phone is off."

"Yeah. I didn't want to talk to anyone."

"But it means you've missed this," Coby said, setting up his laptop at Sanji's kitchen island and turning it around. Pulled up is Twitter, where Coby's finger jabs repeatedly at the worldwide trending topic #NinjaChef.

"What the fuck," Sanji said.

The accompanying informational blurb read Chef Sanji Black of esteemed restaurant Le Tout Bleu gets in a physical altercation with alleged trespassers and fans of Dracule Mihawk, Perona Mihawk, and Zoro Roronoa.

The first tweet under the topic when Coby clicks on it is from Le Tout Bleu itself, undoubtedly tweeted by Coby:

@LeToutBleu: Thanks to law enforcement and paramedics for the swift response to the incident that occurred at our restaurant today. The safety of our customers is our number one priority, and Executive Chef and owner @MrPrinceSB demonstrated that.

Then another:

@LeToutBleu: Our favorite chef is fine - just at home resting! Thanks for the concern, everyone! Reservations at [email protected]

Both were dated for late last night, which meant that around the time Sanji was drinking a bottle of wine in the shower and definitely not crying a little, afraid he'd lost everything he'd ever worked for in the time it took to make a roux, Coby and probably other members of his staff were scrambling to do damage control on the mess he caused. He was such a shit. All these years in the business and he hadn't learned his lesson—

Sanji realized he was pulling his hair, eyes clenched shut, and scaring Coby. "Sorry," he said, breathing in deep and forcing his hands away from his scalp. "I'm going to cook breakfast and make coffee. Can you talk to me while I do it?"

"Um, yes!" Coby said enthusiastically. Sanji smiled softly despite himself and got to work. Cooking had always been the number one thing to calm him down. As he measured coffee beans and prepped the French press Coby explained that video leaked of the fight in the back, filmed by one of the paparazzi back there.

"The woman," Sanji murmured.

"Yeah. That's what saved you, I think—it clearly shows the one guy reach in his coat, you thought it was a gun, and you started attacking in self defense."

"...Right. I definitely thought it was a gun."

"But anyway, someone put videos together, of the fight in the back and then you coming out front because someone else was filming—and it has over two million views!"

Sanji croaked, spilling water all down his shirt, "What!"

"Yeah, it's kind of a meme," Coby said. He played the video, just under three minutes in total. Sanji watched himself yell, kick their asses, smoke a cigarette over their mostly-unconscious bodies (god, that had really hit the spot), and then it cut to a different camera, less HD, probably a phone camera from one of the celebrities' fans. The one-kick knockout looked as good as he thought it would. The gash on his forehead looked frightful though, bright red against the stark white of his chef's whites. Merde, his hat was probably still in the back alley.

Then Coby started showing him versions of his fight put to music, with pop music beat drops set to the moment he went into his cartwheel, and even an autotune song where they'd taken his angry words and put it to a shitty beat.

"Coby," Sanji said, furiously whipping egg whites into stiff peaks by hand because he had to burn the nervous energy, "Please fucking stop."

"Okay, okay," Coby said. "Anyway, that's where #NinjaChef came from, from you fighting them. I didn't know you could fight, by the way. A lot of big chefs are tweeting about the incident and giving their thoughts, and for the most part everyone is on your side."

Even the fucking B.A.R.A.T.I.E. tweeted about it:

@BARATIE: That's my son!!! -Executive Chef Zeff Black

"Oh my god," Sanji moaned.

An article from a reputable news source was the most-commonly shared one, and the preview had a professional shot of Sanji from last year. His hair was short then, and goatee a bit longer. He'd started growing his hair out, and now the ends of it passed his shoulders when down.

"But, okay," Coby continued, "The reason this got so huge in the first place is because Dracule Mihawk thanked you for protecting them once the video we saw earlier came out and retweeted it."

@DMihawk: Thanks to @LeToutBleu staff and head chef @MrPrinceSB for protecting our privacy this evening. That is truly going above and beyond for your customers. The food was good, too. @Roronoa @Purrrrona

Attached was a picture of his meal, and it did look good. His staff didn't fuck up. But Dracule Mihawk, two-time Oscar winner, as Coby reminded him, had over ten million followers on Twitter.

Then Coby's face got a little red, and he said, "And, well, I guess the other big thing to show you is Zoro Roronoa's tweet about it."

Sanji, placing an absurd amount of stress-cooked food in front of the college student, said tiredly, "Just show me."

Zoro retweeted the video of the fight and simply added:

@Roronoa: It was the sexiest thing I've seen in my entire life.

And of course, of course, the replies were his fans going wild, yelling in all caps and using reaction images galore. And then:

@BARATIE: @Roronoa He's single. -Executive Chef Zeff Black

Sanji started to smoke his fifth cigarette of the morning.

As they ate, Coby finally tucked his laptop away and talked about what he and Robin had decided to do moving forward - the plan was to milk this thing, because Le Tout Bleu's reservations had gone through the roof that night and this morning. Sanji's fifteen minutes of fame would eventually pass, and things would settle, but they all hoped that in the meantime they would get as much money out of this as possible.

It made sense from a business perspective, and Sanji had not made it this far without taking his fair share of business courses. Shit about marketing and finance and staff management and all that. But he liked cooking, and something small rankled at him about his restaurant being known for this and not necessarily for its food.

Coby put away his whole plate and half of Sanji's. College kids. He'd changed the password on the restaurant's Twitter account after a few hacking attempts, apparently, and gave Sanji the new one. Their yelp review page was momentarily on ice because of a flood of five star reviews from the celebrities' fans that were obviously fake. Stuff like FUCK YEAH NINJA CHEF was not a review of their food or service, apparently.

"Okay, so," Coby said later, rubbing his stomach. "I have class in an hour. But after I'm going to tweet some more. Can you send me some videos of you practicing your fighting or whatever?"

"It's Savate," Sanji corrected. "Mostly. And, um, sure."

Sanji fetched his phone, tossed carelessly on the couch last night, and powered it on.

They watched as notification after notification after notification blew up his screen. Missed calls. Texts. Enough Twitter notifications to boggle Sanji's mind.

"Um," Coby said, "Real quick I'll change your notification settings on my laptop. You don't need to get an alert every time anyone tweets you."

When Sanji's phone was useable again, right as Coby was jamming on his sneakers and his university hoodie, Sanji sent him some videos his buddy Gin took at the gym they trained at. The cartwheel and handstand were, admittedly, his favorite moves, and definitely were featured.

"Thanks, Coby, really," Sanji said. He felt very overwhelmed. His fingers shook from the rush of nicotine and caffeine.

"Of course," Coby said, "That's why you pay me! But… um, really. I didn't say this before but—it was pretty badass. I'm not surprised it went viral."

"...Thanks."

Coby grinned and was gone.

Sanji curled up on his couch with his phone, squinting at it, twirling the longest bits of his hair around his finger to avoid the urge to pull on it.

There were several missed calls from Robin, and then two texts from her. Coby is coming over. And: You can come in, if you're up to it, but don't expect to be in charge of the kitchen. Kiku is more than capable. You need to take it easy for a few days.

Gritting his teeth, Sanji didn't even bother responding. Instead he googled Roronoa Zoro. While he recognized the Mihawks the green-haired man was much less familiar.

He was an actor in Japan until recently, apparently, famous for J-Dramas and movies. And now he was in the West receiving some sort of personal actor mentorship from Dracule Mihawk, and they'd starred together in one of those films Dracule won an Oscar in, Zoro winning Best Supporting Actor last year.

But forget all that shit—the guy had an instagram, and each picture Sanji scrolled through was sinfully attractive, with the man pumping iron and doing upside-down crunches at the gym hanging from a pole and shit. There he was hiking, swimming (wow, what a scar!), and getting drunk with—oh my god, Nami.

Sanji's favorite actress! She was a fucking goddess, loveliness personified, orange hair so vibrant, and played the lead role in Tangerine, which always made him fucking sob alone in his apartment.

In almost all the photos Zoro's expression was pretty flat—he seemed like a serious guy. In the one with Nami his face was scrunched up in mock-annoyance while she laughed loudly, arm around his shoulders. Cute.

And apparently the guy thought he was sexy, or at least him kicking down a paparazzo was sexy.

He texted his dad stop setting me up online and laughed gruffly at the response: don't tell me what to do, eggplant. How's your head?

Fine. Nasty bruise but the cut is ok I think.

A haircut would be ok too

Shut up, Sanji responded, rolling his eyes, and tucked his phone away. Zeff ragged on him about growing his hair out every time they saw each other. Zeff was just jealous, probably, that his own hair was nearly gone, the geezer. And besides—Sanji really unexpectedly loved it long. He'd probably go another few inches.

Cautiously, Sanji checked the #NinjaChef tag.

@hulalalala: omg #NinjaChef kicked that guy's fucking head in sksksksks I stan

@peachnred610: i think zoro and #ninjachef should kiss, yes I do.

@VividC0l0rz: are u kidding me? If i was at a fancy restaurant and the chef started assaulting people I would demand a refund? Why is everyone normalizing this predatory behavior? Fucking weirdos. #NinjaChef

Aaaand, that was enough of that.

Sanji got ready for work. He had more than one chef's coat, of course he did. His was special, even, fitting of his place as Executive Chef. There were more hats at work; unlike his ridiculous dad, he didn't think the size of his hat had to be proportionate to his authority at the restaurant.

Carefully, Sanji tried to keep his mind blank. If he thought too hard about the hundreds (thousands?) of people talking about him online he choked on his cigarette and felt like he was gonna hurl his breakfast into his sink.

"You're almost forty," Sanji said aloud to himself, hating the way his fingers shook as he tied his shoes on (the shoes that had struck people yesterday). "Get it together."

Sanji parked further away from Le Tout Bleu than usual. As he approached his restaurant he could clearly see an abnormal number of people loitering outside the front (though it did seem that they were at least on the opposite side of the street, which, hell yeah). The alley in back that sometimes he cut through to get to his favored parking lot a few blocks away, though, looked packed.

So Sanji parked a ways away and slunk, nervously, towards his own restaurant. He became acutely aware of the hideous fucking bruise on the side of his head with the fresh bandaid. He attempted to part his hair differently in an attempt to hide it, covering his opposite eye this time, but the wind kept stubbornly revealing it again.

It was maybe ten in the morning, and they didn't open for lunch service until noon, yet there was definitely a crowd. Sanji resisted the urge to pull out a cigarette as he approached Le Tout Bleu, feeling like a man headed to the gallows.

The front entrance was the safer bet for sure, so Sanji awkwardly walked towards the front door on the empty sidewalk, well aware of the spectators watching him.

"Oh! Ninja Chef!"

And there, out of the throng, came a beaming young woman with her phone on a selfie stick. Her beautiful lips turned down in a frown just as she crossed over the street and onto the sidewalk, though, and she asked him, "Is it alright if I come over here to ask you a question?"

"But of course!" Sanji gushed, all his anxiety turned into absolute delight as he realized he was a minor internet celebrity today—him! And there was a girl in the hoodie of the historically Black college in the city coming towards him and turning her bedazzled phone around for a selfie of them!

"I would never kick a lady! Would you like a photo?"

She was already striking a pose, though, a peace sign up by her fabulously applied cat's eye eyeliner, so Sanji copied her after pushing his hair away to expose more of his paparazzi-inflicted wound.

He beamed, she took a few photos, and then she said, "Thanks! You kicked their motherfucking asses."

"It was my pleasure," Sanji said nobly, bowing to her like she was a princess—and she really was, so lovely, giggling at him, and moving back to her friends across the street. Other people, perhaps emboldened by Sanji not lashing out at her, started to press closer, but—

"Robin, please," Sanji gasped then, being pulled rather painfully by his arm inside his own restaurant.

"No," she said simply, "We're making a public appearance plan before you ruin it all by being yourself."

"But look!" he whined, "The ladies love me—"

He was cut off by Robin's husband's loud declaration that it was just so SUPER! to see him, Franky opening the door and pulling the both of them inside. The doors locked, then, and Sanji was urged deeper into the restaurant and away from the doors.

Without being blinded by the radiance of a beautiful woman, though, Sanji could see a bit clearer; yeah, that had been risky. A chorus of exuberant hellos from his staff distracted him, though, and a flood of his employees filed out of the kitchen and into the dining area to greet him.

"Lookin' good, Chef," one of the prep cooks called, flashing a thumbs-up.

"Yeah, reeeeal handsome..."

"I saw the clip on the news this morning—"

"—that looks like it hurts!"

Everyone's chatter washed over him and Sanji found himself smiling widely. He allowed it for a minute longer, then said, "Yeah, yeah," and held up his hands. "I took them out and I'll do it again for you guys. Didn't think it would get this much attention, though."

"You are too humble," Kiku said, smiling her soft smile at him. "Now—back to the kitchen!"

Her well-trained small army of chefs trooped after her, but not without some last ribbing at Sanji's expense.

His hospitality team wouldn't arrive for another hour, and the second shift workers who would stay until close not until after that. But Sanji still felt full and warm, surrounded by his employees, who he thought of as family. The familiar blue walls of his restaurant, the back aquarium wall, and even the soft lighting immediately soothed him.

"So," Franky said, but Sanji interrupted him:

"Why are you here?"

"A bit of extra muscle." Franky flexed one arm and winked at him. "I thought I'd spend some of the day… Robin and I weren't sure whether we'd have any copycats or not."

"Oh." Sanji eyed the front door and the crowd outside. "I didn't think about that. You think so?"

"The police yesterday said it was a possibility, but with how popular that video has gotten, someone else really might try their luck." Robin shrugged.

Grimacing, Sanji said, "Let's hope I don't have to fight anyone else."

Franky laughed, loud and hard, and nothing could get Robin to crack a smile faster than her husband's laughter, and that sent Sanji into a high-pitched fit of dumbass giggles.

"Holy shit," Sanji wheezed, "This whole thing is so weird."

Uncharacteristically giggly herself, Robin wiped a tear from her eye and said, "We had to unplug the phone and took the number off our site; it's just press call after press call."

"Oh, by the way." The expression on Franky's face looked like he was holding in a giant crap—that had Sanji instantly suspicious. "When do the rest of us get to meet Zoro Roronoa?"

Franky danced out of the way of Sanji's irritated kick (he'd been going easy on him, okay) and laughed loudly as he retreated.

Chapter Text

Sanji uneasily eyed the group of folks gathered in the alley behind his restaurant through a sliver in the blinds over a window.

"Who are all those people back there anyway?"

"Local news. You're not talking to them until after we talk with Coby."

Sanji felt very strange, like a passive participant in his own life. He didn't like people ordering him around and telling him what he could and could not do. That's why he was head chef, and not working for the old geezer at the B.A.R.A.T.I.E. But he acquiesced and tried to let his team do what they were supposed to do—support him and keep this place above water.

He stress-cleaned his office, barred as he was from helping with preparing for the lunch rush, and as he did Robin told him a little bit about her plan: Coby would keep up a steady stream of content on their Twitter and TikTok accounts (they had a fucking TikTok?). Sanji would give a charming and pleasant statement to the news crews, and he would also spend the day flitting in and out of the main floor, because their customers would want to see him.

"Alright," Sanji kept saying, "Fine. Sure."

Usopp came in before too long. The kid wasn't a cook, and had no desire to be—he was a chemistry student of all things, and Sanji was technically his community mentor for a few college credits. But he was learning a bit about cooking, slowly but surely, and even though he kept asking to put fucking pure capsaicin in things to see what happened he was a good guy.

"You're with me," Sanji said as soon as Usopp dropped off his stuff in the staff area. He'd never been so grateful for someone to boss around.

"Uh, okay, Ninja Chef," Usopp said, laughing even as Sanji herded him into the practice workstation in the back of the kitchen.

Kiku gave him a suspicious glare but Sanji assured her they weren't trying to get in on the lunch prep.

"I cook when I'm freaked out," Sanji said, "So I'm going to show you how to make Bouillabaisse."

The set-up, preparing the station, and donning of their hair nets was routine and almost meditative. Sanji showed Usopp where to get the ingredients, how to prepare them, how the flavors mixed together, why they added the orange zest when they did, and what fennel and saffron did for the taste. It wasn't traditional—but Usopp was even curious about that too, and the culture, and seeing the kid's proud smile as he tasted a spoonful of the fish stew made Sanji feel fucking great.

Except his phone kept buzzing, and he was doing his best to ignore it, but Usopp finally snapped and said, "Can you please check that? It's making me anxious."

"Fine. Keep stirring."

Sanji pulled out his phone. Even as he did so, it buzzed again, with what looked like his thirtieth twitter notification. Coby had turned off notifications from generic interactions and random people tweeting him, but he'd turned notifications on for Mihawk, Perona, and Zoro, in case they said anything else about him.

And—

Holy shit—

They were all from Roronoa Zoro.

@Roronoa: @MrPrinceSB cute.

@Roronoa: @MrPrinceSB that looks good.

@Roronoa: @MrPrinceSB I want to eat that.

@Roronoa: @MrPrinceSB you have a nice smile but your eyebrows are weird.

@Roronoa: @MrPrinceSB looks tasty.

@Roronoa: @MrPrinceSB yum.

@Roronoa: @MrPrinceSB I like watching you fight. It's hot.

@Roronoa: @MrPrinceSB I wanna eat some.

It was all like that— Zoro was going through every tweet of his for the past few months, apparently, and responding to each and every one.

"Oh my god," Sanji gasped, fleeing from the kitchen, and into the back hallway. His fingers trembled with rage and embarrassment as he drafted a tweet to the stupid celebrity.

@MrPrinceSB: @Roronoa HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO GET ANY WORK DONE WITH YOU TWEETING ME CONSTANTLY MOSSHEAD?? FUCK OFF!!!!!

@Roronoa: @MrPrinceSB Looks really good. What's the yellow stuff?

@Roronoa: @MrPrinceSB Cute.

He was still replying to Sanji's old tweets, the idiot. Then came a response to the one Sanji had just sent:

@Roronoa: @MrPrinceSB You replied to me. Turn your phone off if it's bothering you cook. I'm having a good time.

Attached was a selfie. Zoro was, evidently, at home, because he looked to be sitting on a couch. He was smiling though, small creases in the corner of his eyes on display. He was… really fucking handsome. Sanji vividly recalled all his shirtless photos on instagram.

@MrPrinceSB: @Roronoa you fucking mound of algae. you giant mossball. you obnoxious green bean given life. pea soup for brains. pesto man. knock it off.

He took his own selfie, the most cruel-looking sneer he could manage, horrible bruises on full display, lips curling. It was ugly.

@Roronoa: @MrPrinceSB HAHAHAHA your insults suck. I'm gonna keep calling you cute cuz you're CUTE, cook

@Roronoa: @MrPrinceSB I like onigiri. Those look good.

@Roronoa: @MrPrinceSB The eggs look good.

@Roronoa: @MrPrinceSB Nice kick.

"Oh my god," Sanji said again. He turned his phone the fuck off and stomped back to Usopp. "How's the food?" he groused.

"Uh, I think it's good? It needed a little kick, so I added some ghost peppers…"

"Damn it!"

Despite Usopp's creativity, it was still really fucking good. The absolute vat's worth of bouillabaisse would feed his workers until they ran out, and he'd make something again for the night shift. They all certainly deserved it.

Time had passed, though, while he and Usopp cooked the complicated dish, and Sanji let him escape with a bowl to enjoy somewhere while he checked in with Robin.

"I see you've been flirting, Sanji-bro," Franky said, sitting in his favorite chair in the corner of Robin's office. He flashed a big thumbs-up. "Keep it up!"

"Coby's on his way," Robin said, and she looked tired. "Just stay off your phone until then."

"Fine," Sanji snapped, and stormed right back out.

They had officially opened for lunch service, and Sanji poked his head out onto the floor. Every table was full. He could not see a crowd standing on the sidewalk just outside. Good.

Rather nervously, Sanji adjusted his new chef's hat on his head, straightened the neat lapel on his jacket that read Executive Chef and approached the nearest table.

"Bonjour," he greeted, "Everything is good with your meals, oui? Can I assist you with anything?"

"Pirate Chef!" a woman gasped. There were two adults and a kid messily eating something off their kids' menu.

"I thought I was Ninja Chef," Sanji said weakly, aware the rest of the dining room was not so subtly watching him now. It was like the whole room suddenly filled with happy and excited energy.

The man with her, perhaps a husband or brother, said, "But you did work as a chef on a cruise ship once, right?"

"Oh. Um, yes, I did." Sanji nodded to confirm. "That's all over the internet too?"

The two of them, both young and probably very internet-savvy, just laughed.

"Yeah, #PirateChef is the new hashtag," one of the teens at the next table over said, holding out their phone. Sanji winced; that had been the job he'd lost for kicking that sorry motherfucker's ass, and now apparently everyone knew it.

"Oh, well," Sanji said faintly. "...Arrrr."

And the people closest to him actually fucking laughed, amused at his shitty pirate impression. Dazed, Sanji continued greeting guests.

A bunch took selfies with him and several congratulated him on protecting his restaurant with style. "I feel very safe!" one old man said, laughing merrily.

Another group, this time of tourists, said in Sanji's native French that they found his back-and-forth with Zoro hilarious. Sanji blushed horribly and thanked them for visiting before finally excusing himself.

Coby was here now, his class for the day over with. He had a tripod, a bright circular selfie light like the kind instagram influencers used, and was deep in conversation with Usopp, who Sanji knew had struck up a nervous friendship with Coby, as they were just a year or so apart and went to the same university.

The first thing Coby said when he saw Sanji was, "Don't take your conversations with Zoro to DMs. It's way too funny when it's public."

"I don't even know how to DM," Sanji grumbled.

"Good," Coby said. "That said, don't say anything too messed up or like, personal, but people are having fun watching you and Zoro interact. Or at least, seeing your two tweets to him so far."

"I've been cooking."

Coby showed him the stats on the tweets exchanged between him and Zoro and the new #PirateChef hashtag. It was… a lot.

Robin coached him through what she'd decided he would say to the press and removed his hairnet; she even gave him a few passes of her makeup brush to brighten the dark circles under his eyes and his overall complexion. Sanji took two whole shots of the expensive cognac in his desk drawer to everyone's amusement and headed out to the alley behind his restaurant like a man headed to the gallows.

"Pirate Chef!" one reporter called as soon as he stepped outside. Sanji was suddenly very struck with déjà vu; the last time he came out this door to a small crowd he'd had to kick some ass.

Robin gently steered him closer by his elbow and Sanji smiled as politely as he could manage.

"So, Chef Black," another reporter said, a tall woman with a neatly-pressed blazer and a sharp skirt, "How did you get that injury on your head yesterday?"

Sanji, to the best of his ability, regurgitated the sanitary, family-friendly answers Robin had made him memorize. He spoke about desiring to protect his customers, and even sympathized with celebrities whose personal lives and space were so often invaded by folks who wanted to make a quick buck selling a photo. He talked about his restaurant, and about how hard he'd worked for it.

"And Zoro Roronoa?" someone asked, another microphone in his face.

"Oh, um," Sanji said. "What about him?"

"You two seem to have hit it off. The internet seems to be a big fan of you two together; what do you think about that?"

"Oh!" Sanji felt like his gaze was going everywhere but the camera he was supposed to be looking at. He reached for his scalp instinctively, paused, and grabbed his chef's hat instead. He wrung it anxiously between his hands. "I don't know if I have anything to say about that sh—crappy actor. I mean, I'm sure he's a fine actor. I've never seen any of his movies. But I don't know him, I mean."

The reporter smiled, and it looked rather sharklike.

"At the very least, Roronoa has told the entire internet that he is attracted to you…"

Sanji stuttered something embarrassing and waved his hand fisted around his chef's hat in the air as if to say no big deal. Face tomato red, he looked at Robin, waiting back by the doors, for help.

She grabbed the back of his jacket and pulled him away from the reporters. Sanji went all too willingly, thanking the press for their time over his shoulder and gratefully slipping back into Le Tout Bleu.

"I think everyone is more interested in Zoro Roronoa than me," he said.

"Well," Robin chimed in, still leading him, "He is a celebrity."

Unfortunately there was no break to be had after that harrowing ordeal; Coby and Usopp had set up the tripod and fancy light with a pleasing backdrop of Sanji's framed magazine reviews in the background.

"We need content," Coby said. "We're going to film a bunch of stuff and I'll keep posting it over the next few days. Usopp had some good ideas!"

"Okay," Sanji sighed, exhausted. "What's first."

They filmed him introducing himself and talking a bit about Le Tout Bleu and his chef background. He filmed a quick message to his dad at the B.A.R.A.T.I.E. and told the old geezer to come by for some real food sometime soon. Coby tried to get him to do some dance for TikTok but Sanji outright refused.

"Okay," Coby said later, after Sanji was just so fucking sick of hearing his own voice, and believe him, he could talk all damn day, "Usopp thought you should do a reaction video."

"People would want to watch me watch things?" Sanji asked doubtfully.

"Yeah."

Coby gave him a laptop and headphones, and made sure the screen of the laptop was recording.

"What am I watching?" Sanji asked, blinking owlishly at the red blinking dot on the camera Coby and Usopp stood behind, both trying to hide giggles.

"Just press play!" Coby said.

Sanji did.

The video opened with some studio's logo and some generic music, then cut to—oh, fuck—Zoro Roronoa shirtless and lifting weights.

"Oh, fuck," Sanji said out loud.

Then there was another clip of him diving into a pool, then running, face red with exertion, and lastly looking handsome on a red carpet somewhere. Sanji was sure his face looked like he swallowed a lemon.

"What is this," he said flatly.

Then the video cut to Zoro's face; he was filming something vlog-style, holding a selfie stick. "おはようございます. Hey guys," he said, looking bored as could be. "I was asked to film a cooking video. I don't really cook for myself all that much but I figured, hey, sure."

Sanji frowned. "Is he any good?"

Zoro moved to what was, presumably, his fridge. His home looked nice. His voice was nice too, deep and a bit accented. "Um, I guess I'll make eggs and rice. There isn't much in here—"

"—What in the hell," Sanji interrupted, leaning closer to the screen. "He's got like five things in there! That kiwi is rotten."

Zoro was so fucking hot but it was a struggle to watch this. Zoro explained that while one might think he'd be good at making rice since he's Japanese, and it's such a staple food of his culture, he sucks at it. He filled the pot with way too much water and—

"He didn't even wash the rice!" Sanji said, outraged, and went on a small rant, video paused, about the proper way to prepare different kinds of rice. Coby and Usopp just let him talk, some sort of conversation happening behind the camera with silent looks and gestures. Video playing again, Sanji watched as Zoro left the pot to boil uncovered on the stovetop and started cracking eggs into a bowl, fishing the broken bits out with his fingertips.

"He's so," Sanji said, aghast, "He's so… dégoûtant, oh my god."

Then Zoro fucking dumped a bunch of protein powder into his scrambled eggs with a shrug. "I like protein shakes just fine but, whatever, I can get it this way too."

"No!" Sanji gasped, hands clasped to his cheeks in horror.

The eggs were dumped straight into a too-hot, ungreased pan and predictably started to burn and stick. Zoro just barely stopped himself from cursing and poured olive oil on top of the mess as if that would help it. The purplish protein powder made the whole slush look like crap, and Sanji muttered variations of "that ball of moss" until Zoro put the final nail in the coffin, the thing that did Sanji in. He peered at the pot of rice, shrugged and said it's done, then poured the whole thing over a strainer. The huge amount of water had obviously not been absorbed and Sanji watched in shock as Zoro overturned the strained rice onto a plate with his nasty protein-powder eggs. It looked crunchy still, yet so wet.

He finished his video with a big mouthful, which he ate with a deadpan expression, then shrugged. "Food is food," he said, "Doesn't really matter to me. Need the fuel."

"I can't believe my employees made me watch this," Sanji said miserably. Then he looked at the camera.

"Zoro. Come back to Le Tout Bleu. I'll show you how to make rice. I can't let you ever do that again. Holy shit."

"Cut," Coby said. "Nice! You invited him over for a date!"

"No I didn't."

"You'll have to bleep out his curse words," Usopp said. Coby nodded.

"Can I go now?"

Coby released him, and Sanji took Usopp with him. He stopped by Robin's office, though, and said to her, "Give Coby a bonus, please, my flower. He's doing a lot more than usual for us because of this."

"Sure," Robin said, smiling.

For the evening shift Sanji taught Usopp how to make a pasta dish with lemon and garlic and cheese, and they made enough for the whole crew to enjoy, much to the delight of his employees. Sanji mingled some more with the customers, doing his best to put on his charming and welcoming face. He indulged everyone's Pirate jokes and praise and posed for more selfies.

He just really, really wanted to go home.

Several hours after Usopp went home, and as the dinner rush finally ended, Sanji assisted with some of the cleaning and closing before leaving himself. It did not feel right to leave his staff here when they were so clearly swamped; he hadn't seen a table empty for more than a few minutes all evening. There had never been so many dishes to wash.

But eventually he dragged himself in his front door. Showering made the cut on his temple throb and sting horribly. Exhausted, Sanji curled up in bed in his favorite pajama set and finally powered his phone back on.

There were still texts from family and friends asking about what the hell was going on, and there were tweets—of course there were. Several were from Coby via the official account, posted that day, with info about reservations and a few about how grateful they were for everyone's interest and love.

There were more from Zoro, too. Unsurprising. Sanji hadn't really let himself think too hard today about all this supposed attention from the actor, because it was absurd. Zoro was… tremendously attractive, and probably rich as hell. Was his very public attraction to Sanji even genuine? Did he like messing with people like this?

The last tweet from Zoro had been from a few hours ago:

@Roronoa: @MrPrinceSB hope your evening is going OK.

Blinking tiredly, Sanji decided to respond:

@MrPrinceSB: @Roronoa It was alright. Tiring. Who knew saving your sorry ass would be so much work after the fact? Ha. Night mossman.

Despite his best efforts, though, sleep eluded him. He was bone-tired but nervous energy kept him well and fully awake. After tossing and turning for about an hour he dragged himself back out of bed and onto his couch, where he browsed a streaming platform until he found one of Zoro's movies.

He posted a picture of his tired self, head leaning back against the back of his couch, messy blond waves everywhere. He looked kind of sexy like that, he thought. Growing his hair long had been a boon regardless of whatever Zeff had to say.

Can't sleep, he tweeted, going to watch a @Roronoa movie to see what all the fuss is about.

The response from Zoro was almost immediate; didn't this guy sleep?

@Roronoa: @MrPrinceSB You're really hot. Enjoy. Get some sleep though.

@MrPrinceSB: @Roronoa could say the same to you

@Roronoa: @MrPrinceSB That I'm hot or that I need to sleep?

Sanji blushed furiously alone in his apartment, and, too mortified to respond with both, instead replied with a photo of his TV screen, now playing the opening scene of the film and a simple fuck off. Zoro let him have it.

And an hour and a half later, stomach aching from all the fucking sobbing he'd done (he hated movies they always did this to him) Sanji crawled back into bed.

@MrPrinceSB: @Roronoa it was good, i cried a shit ton. If I met your character in real life though I would kick your ASS i hated Ichiro so much god damn

@Roronoa: @MrPrinceSB PLEASE

Chapter Text

Despite working so hard the previous day, there was no rest to be had for a very tired, very stressed-out Sanji.

Coby said they needed to build his brand, and right now Le Tout Bleu's name was synonymous with that of its Executive Chef, Sanji Black. Put simply, the public interest in their little story was centered on him, not necessarily the restaurant or the food. Folks wanted to see more of Sanji, and Coby would try to do the work of connecting that interest into love for the food and business.

Already Sanji could see interest waning, which felt both good and bad. There was hardly anyone waiting and watching outside the restaurant. Public attention moved on fast, it seemed. Wild. Still, reservations continued to boom, and they still couldn't have their phone plugged in or it would ring off the hook.

"The key thing that will continue to drive public interest, at least right now," Coby told him, sucking down coffee as he lectured Sanji during the pre-lunch prep, "Is your continued interactions with Zoro. So keep doing them."

Coby did not necessarily have to worry about that. Yesterday's interview had aired along with the morning news today on both a few local and one country-wide station. It was fucking embarrassing, especially the part at the end where he'd gone all doe-eyed and stupid over a question about Zoro.

The actor hadn't minded, though: this morning he'd posted a clip of the news playing on a tv at some high-end gym and added, someone get me a date with this cook, stat.

Clips of the interview had also become meme-worthy material and Coby had woken him that morning with a reaction image of his own stressed-out face, squeezing the shit out of his hat.

Fucking hell.

But at least today he was graciously allowed to participate in the running of his own goddamn restaurant so he lost himself in cutting and preparing and testing. He checked the stock in the fridge and freezers and surveyed the freshly-caught fish from the market this morning, thinking about next week's menu. And yes, occasionally Coby would pop out of nowhere with something inane for him to do—

("Do a split," Coby said, as Sanji was in the middle of carefully folding together whipped egg whites and batter.

"Right now?" Sanji asked, blanching.

"Yeah!"

Sanji did it, still stirring, effortlessly dropping into a full split on the floor of his workstation. He did it all the time in his videos at the gym. Flexibility was key. He raised an eyebrow challengingly at the phone Coby was filming with and bragged, "Give me something harder to do."

Coby panned to the pained grimace of the nearest employee and cut the feed. "Cool," he said, "I think I'll put that one on the instagram."

"We have an instagram?")

—but even with having to do weird tasks for Coby, the rest of it was stuff Sanji knew how to do and he knew how to do it well. It was normalcy. He liked it. The lunch rush even felt a bit more normal, even though everyone in the dining room still wanted to greet him or get a picture.

After that, though, when Sanji was grabbing a quick meal in his office, Coby burst open the door, just his head at first, and said breathlessly, "Are you decent? OK, yes—do you have a minute?"

"For what?" Sanji asked, blowing a stream of smoke out his cracked office window.

Coby bounded over, phone outstretched. Sanji bit down on the cigarette and accepted it with both hands, peering at the screen.

He dropped it.

"Oh, fuck," he cursed, fetching Coby's phone from the carpet at his feet.

"It's okay, it's okay," Coby reassured him, as Sanji held the phone back up to his face, paling.

Roronoa fucking Zoro.

"It's him!" Zoro boomed, his voice tinny from the speakers, but undeniably his. In the movie last night he'd let out this horrible wail of pain when the best friend character died at the bottom of those stairs and it felt like Sanji'd had something wrenched out of him.

There were a stream of comments along the bottom:

aeongie
ahahahah it's really pirate chef

o_e_cmxmatch
ew hes smoking gross lol

Rendez_vous167
Whose That Pink Haired Guy

danceonmyown
😭😭😭happy for u zoro

"How do I make the comments go away?" Sanji asked, squinting.

Coby tapped the screen a certain way and they were hidden from view, as were the steady stream of floating hearts, thumbs-ups, and other emojis along the side. But that meant Sanji only had one thing to focus on, and that was Zoro's face. It was a bit pixelated, but still undeniably handsome.

"...Hey," Sanji said, his first actual spoken word to the guy.

Zoro, surprisingly, looked genuinely happy to see him. His usual frown in all the pictures Sanji had seen of him in the last 24 hours was gone; his eyebrows were sky-high, his cheeks spread wide, all his teeth on display as he smiled so hard at Sanji through his phone. "Hey, Cook," he replied.

"I'm a chef, not a cook."

"Okay, Cook."

Sanji scowled, and Zoro just grinned harder, and they stared at each other for a long minute. Sanji studied the soft green of his hair and the way his eyes tracked back and forth minutely, perhaps reading comments. Sanji felt… a bit shy, perhaps.

"What is this?" he asked Coby.

"Instagram live," the student answered, "Zoro went live and I sent a request for the restaurant's account to join in, which he accepted."

"Never used this before?" Zoro asked.

"Nope." Sanji lifted the phone this way and that, trying to find his best angle. He took a final drag of his cigarette, watching Zoro with slightly-narrowed eyes. There was this famous actor just watching him, not prompting him to say anything yet—it was so, so bizarre. When his cigarette was ashed properly he gave the phone his full focus and scooted his rolling chair closer to his desk.

"So," Sanji said, gesturing quietly to the side for Coby to sit down and get comfortable, and to stop hovering, "That was the sexiest thing you've ever seen, huh."

Zoro barked out a laugh. He had been walking, but now looked like he was sitting with his back against a pale blue wall somewhere. Sanji held his full attention. "Um, yeah," Zoro said. "Did I not make that clear enough?"

"You made it perfectly clear," Sanji said, blushing and resisting the urge to tug at his hair. "I'm… flattered. Can't say I expected a mosshead like you to fall so desperately in love with me as a result, but hey," Sanji shrugged, all false bravado, "I just have that effect on people." He frowned. "Usually women, though."

Coby scoffed behind the desk and Sanji shot him an irritated look.

"Y'know," Zoro said, "I can't believe I'm gonna tell you this, but in Japan there's a common, like, algae ball thing that I'd find in the water sometimes. Called a marimo."

"Marimo," Sanji repeated softly.

Zoro corrected his pronunciation, the r sound being different from what Sanji was used to. But he got it right, and Zoro smiled at him again, looking quite young. He was thirty-six, two years younger than Sanji, but happiness was a great look on him. "If you wanted to have a nickname for me, you could call me that," Zoro said, grinning.

Sanji blew out a long, gross raspberry through his lips and angrily tucked back into his lunch.

"Here I am," he said once he'd swallowed all his food, because he wasn't an animal, "Enjoying my lunch break, and a—a crappy marimo decides to bother me. Why should I even keep talking to you? This probably isn't very exciting for all your fans."

"What are you eating?" Zoro asked, ignoring the last bit. He'd moved the phone closer to his face as if to get a better look.

Sanji panned down to his meal. "It's quiche," he said. "Le Tout Bleu has a lot of French cuisine but that's not all we have. I made a bunch of these this morning."

"It looks good."

Sanji turned the camera back around onto himself and rolled his eyes. "That's what you said about practically everything I've ever posted."

"Well, it does," Zoro said simply.

Sanji huffed and eyed him. Zoro was terribly… straightforward. Sanji didn't know if he liked it, if it flustered him, or if he didn't like it at all.

"What are you wearing?" Sanji asked then. "Looks fancy."

It was; Zoro showed off his three-piece suit nice enough to make Sanji envious, showing off its cool pockets for stage weapons or whatever as Sanji finished eating. Then Zoro spun in a circle, revealing the rest of the room he was in, which looked to be an actual movie set. "Oh," Zoro said after a minute, "C'mere Cook, I wanna show you something."

Sanji shrugged at the camera; he was just along for the ride. Zoro trekked into a back hallway, and then went through several doors, growing increasingly irritated. "I swear, their dressing room keeps moving," he kept saying, and Sanji watched, hiding his smile behind his hand. Holy shit, Zoro was… endearing.

Eventually Zoro found what he was looking for, and then entered a room where he turned and behind him was Dracule Mihawk, sitting at a table, and his wife Perona lounging on a couch just behind. Sanji's thumb tapped the screen wrong and then he could see the chat again; it was flooded with ghost emojis, and he didn't know enough about either of their fandoms to know what it meant.

"It's the Pirate Cook," Zoro said.

"Pirate Chef," Sanji corrected—then growled and said, "Wait, no, just a regular chef."

Zoro just laughed and then slung an arm over Mihawk's shoulders. "Say hi, Mihawk."

The man—stupidly famous—then gracously thanked Sanji for saving them yet again. "I advise everyone viewing this to try a dish at Le Tout Bleu, if able," he said. Sanji gripped his thigh tight under the table.

"Merci," Sanji said several times, ducking his head, palms sweaty.

Then Zoro was shoving his phone in the lovely Perona's face, who looked rather bored, and Sanji greeted her with a flourish: "Madame, it is such an honor to meet a woman as exquisite as you. Thank you very much for visiting my establishment the other evening—to think such an angel graced our tables! It was simply a gift to be able to feed you, my dear— hey, mosshead, I was talking to her!"

"You're so fucking annoying," Zoro sighed. "You guys, why'd I have to go and fall for such an idiot?"

That stopped Sanji's rant rather abruptly. Zoro was so casual with admitting to anyone who would listen or read that he was, well, entranced by Sanji. It was intimidating, and the reminder that they were not alone (in fact, there were close to half a million viewers on Zoro's livestream) brought him back to clarity.

Zoro was back in a hallway again, and eyeing Sanji like he knew he'd just spooked him, even if unintentionally.

"Well," Sanji rasped, "I… should go. Lunch break is over. It… was nice to finally see you in all your mossy glory, I guess."

Zoro frowned. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I just—there's things I want to tell you, that I want to ask, but not… publicly."

"Okay," Zoro said, nodding. His worried expression had eased somewhat.

"Speaking of!" Coby said, startling Sanji a bit. He'd forgotten about him. The student leant over the desk so his head appeared upside-down at the top of the screen. "Mr. Roronoa, there's a special video of Chef Black I'm uploading in a few hours. Make sure you check it out."

"Alright." Zoro waved easily. "Can't wait. See you, Cook."

"My name is Sanji, and I'm a chef."

"Yeah," Zoro said, voice full of derision, "Sounds fake but ooookay."

Zoro ended Sanji's participation in the live, and it went back to him being full-screened. "Well," he was saying to his fans now, "That was fun. He's so fucking cute. Don't worry, guys, I'm just messing with him, I'm not actually insulting him or whatever, it's fine. Anyway, the scene from this morning was fun because I got hooked up to the harness and got to jump from that scaffolding there, you see? I can't say much more than that but—"

Sanji handed the phone over to Coby, letting him end it.

"That was kind of terrifying," Sanji said, "But thank you for finding a way for me to talk to him."

"He's like your number one fan."

"Yeah." Sanji frowned. "Do you think he's faking it?"

Coby tilted his head. "What? No way. You think so?"

"It's just—" Sanji didn't know why he was about to open up to a college student, but here he was: "It's sudden isn't it? He didn't even know me three days ago and now he says he's…"

"I, well," Coby said, frowning, "I didn't interpret what he was saying as he's literally in love with you already… more like he's just, I don't know, interested. Like how I say I love my favorite character on a show, oh, cool, I love them."

"Like a favorite character?" Sanji asked, scowling.

"No! Not like that, I just meant, ugh, like when someone is just so cool and you want more of them."

"Hm," Sanji said, disappointed.

Coby could tell he hadn't improved Sanji's mood and nervously ducked out of the room. Sanji washed his lunch dishes and spent some time with Conis talking about how she was managing the heavy influx of customers. Did they need more linens? Silverware? Something else or something new?

She was doing a great job. The other host and hospitality staff greeted him in friendly tones; new hires tended to be afraid of him at first, but he eventually won them all over. He rather thought that this whole wild incident was bringing them all closer together.

"Thank you so much, Conis," Sanji said later, having just saved a version of one of his spreadsheets. "I don't know what I would do without you, my dear."

Conis laughed. "You'd still serve delicious food, but we all know everyone comes here for the ambience." She winked.

Sanji glanced at the aquarium along the back wall. They kept it well-stocked with fresh fish that folks could point to if there was a certain one they wanted to eat, and Franky had a few specialist buddies who came and regularly cleaned out the tank and made sure the fish were living their best lives for as long as they could. He loved it. The soothing blues and soft bubbling of the water could put him in a trance.

Robin informed him via text as he showed their newest cook a new technique, later, that #marimo was trending.

The video Coby had been talking about was the reaction one, and even Sanji huffed a laugh as he watched it later, relaxing in his tub. Those fucking eggs. Coby had even done a few funny edits, like zooming in or adding a sound effect as Zoro drained out all that water. Zoro retweeted the video.

And then, just as Sanji added a bit more bubbles to the bath, Zoro DMed him. Coby had said not to talk to Zoro in DMs, but Sanji was curious, so he figured out how to pull it up and reply.

Hey, was the message, Can I really come back to your restaurant?

Sanji wriggled his toes in the water. Yeah. It would be nice to see you. If you want. Talk to you in real life.

When is your next day off?

Sanji frowned, thinking—he hadn't taken a day off in… a while. Even when his staff told him not to come in after the Pirate Chef nonsense he still did. Not sure, he responded. Things have been so busy since everything happened. I dont want to leave my staff to deal with all this alone. But its been awhile. How bout I take Sunday and Monday off?

I'm glad you're doing so well and probably making a lot of money but you must all be tired as fuck. How bout I stop by for dinner on Saturday?

Sanji blinked. Slowly, he smiled. He snapped a picture of himself, collarbone and shoulders above the soapy water, lounging casually with one arm on the lip of the tub. He tilted his head coyly, that nasty yellowed bruise still there, and raised one distinctive eyebrow. Age, he thought, looked good on him; he had a distinguished face. Pretty presumptuous. U think Im gonna spend any of my days off with u?

Zoro somehow reacted to his image with a 'heart' and replied, I'm hoping so. But if not that's ok.

What if i don't sleep with handsome marimos on the first date?

Then you don't sleep with handsome marimos on the first date. Really it's fine. I just don't always have lots of free time, but I'm going to make sure I'm available through Monday, ok? If we meet and it goes well then I want to spend more time with you before I get busy.

Sanji… could totally understand that, actually. He was almost forty, and well-established in his job and field; he did not necessarily have time for dozens of short dates. If he saw Zoro every now and again for a meal when they both happened to be free, who knew how long that would be? Who even knew if they were going to have chemistry in person?

Sanji thought that he'd made up his mind about Zoro's straightforwardness; he liked it.

I understand. Well I'll see u Saturday night. I'll make sure a table is free. After 7 is best. And maybe I'll see u Sunday morning too. ;)

See you then, curly-cook, Zoro answered.

Sanji, unfortunately, woke up to a text from Coby saying he'd deleted their message thread in case of hackers or whatever spilling their private business. Coby encouraged him to get Zoro's number and added at the end: for what it's worth I think he's REALLY into you! Sorry for peeking!

Yeah, he was starting to feel excited.

Saturday was officially one week since The Paparazzi Incident and everyone was adjusting well to the new degrees of labor and work they had to perform. While the rest of the month was still almost entirely booked, Sanji could look ahead and smile seeing some of his favorite regulars able to get spots again in the coming weeks.

His fifteen minutes of fame were fading, he knew. Sanji was actually pretty happy about it. He'd never get sick of posing for selfies with pretty women but he could only imagine how Zoro or people like the Mihawks did it all the time and to a much bigger degree.

Coby still posted little clips of him regularly to their social media and it still got attention from all the folks who followed them during that week, but the numbers of overall engagement were fading. "Fine by me," Sanji had said. "Coby, you've done amazing. Don't work too hard. It's just how the world works."

"I know," Coby said, "But I want to keep you famous. You deserve it. The restaurant deserves it."

"Maybe when he marries Zoro Roronoa he'll get famous again!" Usopp had cackled.

When Sanji stepped out onto the floor Saturday evening, scanning for a familiar green head, a number of customers looked his way and a few waved, but he was not immediately gestured over by an overenthusiastic Perona fan or whatever.

He'd let his staff know Zoro was coming, and Carrot, one of the newer hostesses, was practically vibrating from her place at the stand near the front. Cute! But, unfortunately, he could not focus on how awesome and fantastic his team was, because he was too busy freaking out himself. He kept plucking at his chef's whites and fussing with the hem of his pants or his shortly-trimmed facial hair. He desperately wanted a cigarette, but he also wanted to be here when Zoro arrived.

Occasionally one of his cooks would poke their heads in out of the back and Sanji would scowl hard enough to make them retreat, but everyone was obviously curious.

Finally some of Sanji's tension broke when in strolled a face he vaguely remembered—younger guy, dark hair, scar under one eye. "Yoooo!" he called from Carrot's welcome stand, "Pirate Chef!"

It was the loud voice that finally placed him; he'd been the one to tell Sanji well done after knocking out the head of Perona's fanclub.

"Welcome," Sanji said, after making his way over. "Are you with…"

"Bodyguard, yeah," the man confirmed, nodding. He held out a hand. "Luffy." He shook Sanji's hand up and down wildly. "Is it cool if I do a quick sweep before he comes in? Like the exits and stuff?"

"Oh, um, sure. I'll show you."

As Sanji showed Luffy around, the man told him that lots of people were pretty certain Zoro would show up here eventually and had been seen lurking around, but Sanji's threat about those without intention to dine loitering outside his restaurant was scary enough that it kept most of them at bay.

"You really showed them," Luffy said, poking his head out into the back alley. "You were like— 'woah! Who are you guys?' And then—BAM!" he kicked into the air. "If they had made it inside then I woulda taken them down but you did all my work for me!" He laughed, loud and carefree, like he wasn't talking about beating the shit out of paparazzi.

There was undoubtedly something professional though in the way his eyes scanned the place, even as he grinned and joked. When satisfied, they went back to the main dining room where Sanji waited beside Carrot as Luffy strolled back out. After a minute of waiting though he came back in while herding a man in a beanie and sunglasses, hiding his mossy green hair and face.

"Yo," Zoro said, lifting a hand.

"Oh my goodness, I, ah, welcome to—Bleu Tout, I, it's so nice to meet you, I—"

Smiling, Sanji gently patted Carrot's head and said, "Try again, Carrot," and the girl shook her head left and right before snapping on a mask of professionalism.

"I mean!" she said, "Welcome to Le Tout Bleu. We have a table reserved for you; right this way!"

She stiffly started walking, more like a march than anything, and Sanji smiled crookedly at Zoro as he followed his employee. It was a seat right by the aquarium in a back corner, half-blocked by some potted plants, close to where Zoro and the Mihawks had sat before. Sanji let Zoro choose his seat, deliberately pressing a hand to the man's lower back with a gracious flourish, drifting his fingertips along his spine.

Zoro chose the one with his back to the rest of the diners, and Sanji could speculate why, but he tried not to. He slid into his seat, his back to the aquarium wall, and propped his chin up on his elbow with, he hoped, a smooth smile on his face. "Marimo," he said carefully, pronouncing it perfectly, "It's good to see you."

"Hell yeah it is," Zoro responded. He pulled off his sunglasses and his eyes were bright, clearly taking in Sanji's face and body. When Zoro smiled, the soft creases and lines of age around his eyes and mouth grew more pronounced; he was just handsome, handsome, handsome.

One of Sanji's waiters appeared then; Sanji had seen Conis give him an encouraging pat on the shoulder before he came over. He loved his fucking employees, truly. Helmeppo was a good sport, though, drawing himself up tall and dignified.

"Welcome to Le Tout Bleu," he greeted, treating Sanji like any other customer. "My name is Helmeppo and I will be taking care of you both this evening." He went through the usual bit, professional and succinct, and when he promoted their wine list, Sanji gently interrupted.

"There's some sake in the prep fridge," he said, smiling indulgently at the look on Zoro's face. "Kiku knows where I put it, and where the cups are. Thanks, Helmeppo."

"Oh! Sure thing, Chef," the man said, and disappeared.

Sanji had been, of course, watching lots of videos of Zoro, trying to learn more about him where he could. The guy talked about his love for various types of booze—but especially sake—all the time.

Zoro rubbed the back of his neck in a gesture that looked uncharacteristically shy. "This is, uh, a nice place, Cook. Didn't tell you that yet."

Sanji scoffed. "Of course it's nice! I put my heart and soul into this place."

"I know," Zoro said, "That's why it's so nice."

Sanji eyed him. They dithered there in awkward silence for a minute, until Zoro stretched, shrugged, and said, "Okay. I'm over this."

"...Over what?"

"Bein' all weird. Lemme make myself clear." He leant forward in his seat and Sanji copied him, their heads tucked close. Zoro jabbed a finger in his face which would have been fucking insulting coming from anyone else, and kind of was even now, but Sanji made himself look Zoro in the eyes instead of at the aggressive digit. "You blew my fuckin' mind last time," Zoro said, voice hushed but assertive. "It was really fuckin' cool. You kicked ass. I had a boner the whole car ride home; do you know how long it's been since I had a hard-on for that long? A while. And I've been thinking about you all week. I was really looking forward to tonight. So I don't want to waste it being awkward and dancing around what I want."

"And what do you want?"

Zoro huffed a breath like Sanji was a fucking idiot. "To get to the good stuff, duh. So let's just skip past the 'how was your day' shit."

Sanji couldn't help but laugh, louder than he meant to, leaning back in his seat. He gestured Helmeppo forward, who was awkwardly waiting a respectful distance away for his boss to finish his private conversation. He told Helmeppo to bring out an assortment of appetizers, Kiku's choice, and happily gestured for Zoro to figure out the sake situation because he wasn't especially versed in it. It was pleasantly warmed.

"But I was curious about your day," Sanji said finally, nudging Zoro's leg with his under the table. It felt a bit awkward, like touching a new partner always was at first, but mostly it just felt good. "Now you've ruined this date because I won't get an answer to the question I wanted to know most."

"Tch." Zoro poured Sanji a tiny cup-full's worth of sake, and passed the bottle so Sanji could do the same for him. "Fine. I video called my friend back home. Went to the gym. Practiced some lines. Talked to an agent about some stuff. Hung out with Luffy, came here."

The bodyguard in question was at a table nearby, but utterly ignoring them; he already had a small pile of plates in front of him. Just gazing out at the rest of the restaurant had Sanji making uncomfortable eye contact with more people than he'd care to; evidently, it was fairly obvious who the Handsome and Charismatic (emphasis on Handsome) Pirate Chef was dining with. There was more than one phone not-so-subtly focused on them.

Weird, and overwhelming, but…. Zoro was a celebrity. If he was going to date a celebrity, this would be par the course, right?

"Well," Sanji said, arranging the variety of appetizers as they arrived, thanking Helmeppo and winking at the kid to let him know he was doing well, "My day was spent here. I suppose that's obvious. As you know, I'm off the next two days, so I was getting some things in order for that. The last hour has been spent nervously waiting for some mosshead to show up."

"Hah? You kidding?" Zoro asked through a mouthful of food. It was so gross! "I was the nervous one. You're like…" Zoro wiggled his hands through the air as his face scrunched up in thought, like the words wouldn't come to him. "And I kind of like, made you more popular but also maybe kinda ruined your life by tweeting you all the time and, ugh—" He jammed a roasted carrot into his mouth and chewed like it had personally offended him. "If you were super pissed off and didn't want to meet with me at all I would have understood," he finished.

Sanji tilted his head, sipping his sake slowly as he parsed out what Zoro was saying and what he was not.

Eventually, he said, carefully, "I admit it was unexpected. We've been coping well with all the attention. You're a very straightforward guy, aren't you?"

Zoro raised an eyebrow. "I think so."

"Then answer me this." Sanji leant in close again, and Zoro did too. He lifted a hand and ran a thumb across Zoro's jawline, feeling the very faint stubble there. He probably didn't have to shave nearly as often as Sanji did. "How serious are you about this? Because if some celebrity is jerking me around and making all this fuss about me publicly for fun, then," Sanji tapped Zoro's jaw with his thumb, "then fuck you. You really want to try something serious with me, some random chef, after what I did?"

"Yes," Zoro answered instantly. "I'm not trying to half-ass this. And I'm serious. Cook, you—" Zoro captured the hand that had been touching him and held it with both of his own, looking so intently into Sanji's eyes it was nearly overwhelming. "I mean it. At first I just thought woah, he's hot and cool but then I checked out your social media and whatever and you seemed fun and nice. I'm not interested in other actors or singers or whatever; fame sucks half the time and most of the people suck too. And we live in the same city, when I'm not out shooting something, and you cook good food. So."

"Just like that," Sanji said, smiling despite himself.

"Yeah." Zoro nodded, and Sanji could not help but believe him.

"Okay," Sanji sniffed haughtily, taking a bite of the gently-fried croquettes Helmeppo had brought, "So you want to try dating a chef of my caliber. I'm here a lot, you know."

"Sure. And I have to fly out a lot on trips."

"I do my best but I still smell like food half the time, even after a shower."

"I always fuck up my red carpet interviews and get put on the worst-dressed lists."

"I smoke too much."

"I drink too much." To demonstrate, Zoro took a huge glug straight from the delicate neck of the sake bottle, which Sanji was pretty sure was not what you were supposed to do with it. He laughed, delighted by this blunt and weird man, and leant back in his chair. Their hands did not separate, though, loosely clasped on the side of the table.

"Okay, mossman," he said, "I feel better. I was worried you were just fucking with me."

"Nah," Zoro answered. "Too much work to do the long con or whatever to people. Better to just be honest."

It was indeed, Sanji thought. The appetizers were almost gone, and he was happy to let Zoro finish off all the sake. He'd just had one small cup. The ones he'd bought earlier that week had a delicate green design on the outside that made him think of Zoro, obviously, and they were bigger than shot glasses but not like a teacup either. Zoro was ignoring them and drinking straight from the bottle again. Beneath the table Sanji poked Zoro's calf with the tip of his shoe and got a gentle mock-kick in return.

They finished the last of the food on the tiny plates. "I figured we could cook the main course together," Sanji said with a grin, rising from his seat. "Come to the kitchen with me?"

"Hah?? Okay," Zoro said, nodding, getting out of his seat too enthusiastically and banging his hip on the edge. He jammed his sunglasses back on and, Sanji noticed, brought the sake bottle with him. Luffy already knew the plan and just nodded at them both, cheeks bulging with food.

"Hi Zoro!" a teenager stage-whispered as they passed by. Their parents at the table with them looked a little starstruck too. Zoro just rapped a friendly knock on the tabletop, not confirming or denying that it was him.

Mercy of mercies Zoro was not asked for an autograph as they went back to the kitchens. Sanji got a painfully obvious thumbs-up from a few members of his staff and he scowled, embarrassed, as they entered the kitchens.

Of course, every single one of his kitchen crew turned as they entered.

"Hey boss!"

"It's Zoro!"

"Seems the date's going well!"

"SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU," Sanji barked, waving them all away. Loud laughter was his answer, but they went back to calling out order numbers and working in that well-oiled way they'd practiced for so long.

Sanji muttered to himself as he grabbed his hat and hairnet off a hook where he'd placed them by the practice workstation. Zoro was looking around with obvious interest. He looked out of place in his nicely-fitted jeans and expensive athleisure wear but he looked nice.

"I got you a gift," Sanji said, smiling. "But it's a selfish one."

"Oh?"

Sanji gestured for Zoro to stay, disappeared into a cabinet nearby for a moment, and came out with a square box. Zoro opened his arms to accept it and said, "A rice cooker?"

"Yeah." Sanji stepped close, jabbing his finger into Zoro's face. "If I ever see you make rice like that again there will be hell to pay, Marimo, you got that?"

"Hahaha. Okay."

They opened it up, gave the bowl and parts a wash, and Sanji showed him how to use it. There were instructions but Zoro was clearly not the kind of guy to ever use them, so Sanji just taught him the basics. Zoro did the measuring and washing of the rice (important!) and looked rather proud of himself after pressing the right buttons. The little machine beeped as it started cooking.

"What's next?" Zoro asked.

Sanji tightened the waist of his Chef's whites. "I was thinking Japanese style curry?" He pulled out the premade blocks of curry sauce he'd grabbed at a specialty market. "Never made it before with these, but I did my research. You said you liked it once."

Zoro had lit up when he brought out the small package, and Sanji knew he'd chosen well. "It's not one of the sweet ones, right?"

"Uh, don't think so." The box said it was the Extra Hot kind.

"Cool. Sometimes the sauce has apples and honey and stuff in it. Don't like sweet food much."

Smiling, Sanji finished preparing his workstation and got out a variety of vegetables and some potatoes. Zoro watched quietly as Sanji started chopping and cutting with, it was instantly clear, many years of experience with the proper technique. Zoro's job was to transfer things to the pot Sanji prepared, and he did it with relish, only huffing a little when Sanji said it was something even a caveman like you can't mess up.

With the ingredients bubbling away Sanji efficiently cleaned his workstation, always doing it as he went along and not all at the end. Zoro watched him still, carefully and respectfully. Zoro could act and Sanji could cook and he cooked fucking well. Zoro was right to take it all in with a healthy amount of awe.

At a pause, though, when all there was to do was stir and watch over the food, Zoro asked, "So why did you start cooking?"

"My dad," Sanji said easily, shrugging. "The old geezer has his own restaurant that I grew up in. Loved it. I like taking care of people, feeding them, all of it. And acting?"

"Have you seen any old-time samurai movies?" When Sanji shook his head no, Zoro said, "I'll show you. They're badass. No CGI back then, but I thought they looked so fuckin' cool fighting with their swords. I wanted to do that too so I got enrolled in acting classes really young."

Sanji laughed. "You're this famous actor you are now because you wanted to look cool?"

"Yeah." Zoro leant in, face smug and lifting an eyebrow in challenge, "And I am pretty awesome, aren't I?"

"I wouldn't know," Sanji sniffed, turning away so Zoro wouldn't see his reddened cheeks, "I've only seen you in one movie."

Zoro crossed his arms. "Especially since leaving Japan, my roles are a lot more… tame, I guess. I mean, boring. No one else ever does their own stunts and I'm getting like, emotional roles with all these tortured dudes missing their wives or whatever."

"That win you awards," Sanji laughed. "But you're right; that's certainly not as cool as kicking ass."

"See, you get it."

Zoro 'supervised' Sanji adding the curry blocks to the food, which mostly was touching Sanji's hips and back gently as Sanji did all the work and stirred until the sauce thickened and everything looked, he thought, really good. The rice cooker beeped again and the look of genuine surprise on Zoro's face as he opened the lid and, predictably, there was perfect rice inside, warmed Sanji's chest.

He plated it and everything was nice and warm. Zoro squirted chili sauce over his plate and drew a bizarre spiral on Sanji's plate with it. "Your eyebrows," he said, and laughed loudly when Sanji mimed kicking the shit out of him.

They were stopped by one of Sanji's cooks when Sanji tried to carry their plates back out to the dining room. "You're on a date," she said, taking the plates from him. "We'll have someone bring them out to you properly."

Sanji agreed with minimal fussing, rolling his eyes fondly and leading Zoro back out to their table from before, which had been cleared. Someone, probably Conis, placed a tiny, warm candle in the middle of the table, and a glass of Sanji's favorite wine at his seat, the rest of the bottle just beside.

Zoro said approvingly, "They're good to you here. Means you're good to them."

"I like to think so. They're my employees, but also something like family."

Helmeppo brought them their curry, and Sanji acted very over-the-top surprised about it, like he hadn't just made it himself in the back. "Don't get into acting, Curly," Zoro said.

"My name is Sanji. You've never said my name properly, not even online."

"You've only said mine once."

Sanji blinked. He took a first bite of his food, slow and appraising, enjoying the flavors and textures. He glanced at Zoro, who was watching him, and suddenly remembered he still had his hat and hairnet on. Nervously, he ditched both of them, stuffing them in his lap and combing his fingers through his long hair so it sat, hopefully, attractively.

"Zoro," he said. He'd watched interviews where Zoro pronounced his name a little differently from the native English-speaking folks around him, and he'd practiced it in front of Robin until she said he was pronouncing it right. Zoro looked enthused as hell, a wide smile splitting his face. "There, I said it."

Zoro shrugged. "Okay. Definitely wasn't hot or anything. I'll say yours once you've earned it."

Sanji sputtered and stepped on Zoro's foot under the table. "What! I just made us dinner! You're still going to call me Cook or Curly or whatever?"

Around a disgusting mouthful of food, Zoro smiled, big and toothy, and nodded.

This meal went more quickly, both of them perhaps eager to get the hell out of there. They ate quietly, but Zoro occasionally hummed or pointed out something he especially liked about it, Sanji filing away his likes into his brain. Zoro finished his sake and asked Helmeppo for a beer, which was promptly brought out.

Sanji was full as hell but he did not ever waste food, and he told Zoro his philosophy about that as he drained his glass of wine. Helmeppo cleared their table and Zoro reached for his wallet.

"What? No, it's on the house," Sanji said, scandalized.

"Then I want to tip your staff at least," Zoro insisted. He did so, writing what looked like a large number on the receipt for $0.00 Helmeppo brought out. The kid looked a little faint as he accepted it and graciously thanked Zoro many times before beelining to Conis with it.

"Thanks," Sanji murmured, fond. "They work hard."

Zoro looked absolutely lovely. The sun was long set by now, and between the soft glow of the candle and the blue ambience from the aquarium behind Sanji's back, Zoro looked a little otherworldly. Beneath the table, their legs rested against each other, warm and strong.

Sanji re-corked his wine. "I'm ready to start my weekend. Shall we go back to my place?"

Zoro grinned. "Hell yeah."

Chapter Text

While Sanji retired to his office and the back to get things sorted and grab his stuff, Zoro paid Luffy's bill and gave another exorbitant tip for "dealing with this idiot." Sanji endured the gentle clapping from the kitchen when he walked through to the door in the back and waved goodbye to Robin who looked extremely pleased by the whole evening.

Luffy had Sanji's address, and Sanji walked resolutely to his own car a block away, not thinking about anything much at all. His mind was blank as he drove, and he focused on the sensation of the wheel under his hands. His soft hair brushing his neck. His feet on the pedals, sore from standing so much today. His lips, slightly chapped from nervously biting and licking them. They buzzed; he wanted to kiss Zoro.

His home was nearby and Sanji parked in his usual spot, getting out and acting perfectly normal. Were there any lurking paparazzi around? He did not know. There may have been some around the restaurant, especially after word got out Zoro was dining there with the Pirate Chef for the evening.

But, Sanji thought, as he let himself in, it wasn't like he had anything to hide. If someone saw him and Zoro going on a date, then so what? So long as Zoro didn't break this off within a week or something, he'd keep his dignity and the rest of the world would move on before long.

He did not wait long before there was a soft knock at the door. Sanji's apartment was not manned downstairs but you could punch in a certain code to get past the door downstairs, which he'd passed on.

Zoro had a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. It must have been waiting in the car in case their first meeting had gone well.

"Yo," Zoro said, grinning handsomely at him.

Sanji let him in, feigning surprise. Zoro immediately kicked off his shoes and left them neatly by the door, then pushed past Sanji to nosily start looking around. Chuckling, Sanji said, "I've only been here a minute or two. I don't have more sake but I opened a beer for you." He passed it over, fizzy and cold, and they tapped their glasses together in a quick cheers, Sanji having poured himself another glass of the wine from Le Tout Bleu.

He gave Zoro a quick tour, but there wasn't that much to see. Kitchen (by far the most interesting room), living room, bedroom, bathroom, balcony with a full ashtray on a small table beside a solitary chair.

Zoro seemed interested though, peering at the books on Sanji's shelf and the variety of kitchen gadgets in various drawers. Sanji watched him, amused, before stepping close to him and stopping his perusal with a gentle hand on his chest. Zoro's pecs, god damn.

"I'm going to have a shower," he said. "Will the handsome Marimo be alright without me?"

"'Course," Zoro said. He covered the hand on his chest with one of his own. His hands were bigger, and his thumb stroked softly over Sanji's veins and knuckles. "I won't snoop that much."

Sanji grinned. "Get comfortable. I won't be long." He shifted his weight on his feet, about to depart, but changed his mind and rocked forward onto his toes to press a soft kiss to Zoro's cheek.

The hand over his tightened slightly. Don't go, it said, and Zoro turned his head to capture Sanji's lips in a proper kiss, light and gentle. Softness. The scent of sake. Their breath puffed warm between them.

Sanji kissed him properly, head tilting, mouth opening and closing gently as their lips figured out the best way to slot together just so. It was good. Most of the kissing in Sanji's life had been with women, but it wasn't like he didn't have experience kissing folks of other genders too; the width of Zoro, the height and power of him, was nevertheless a thrill.

The kiss wound down to a last few, sweet bits of suction and pressure. Zoro smiled against him and Sanji did the same, giving him one last solid smooch, then another on that same cheek, before stepping away. Their arms stretched out between them, Zoro still having not relinquished his grip on Sanji's hand.

"I'll be back."

"Yeah," Zoro said, licking his lips. "Yeah, okay."

He finally released Sanji and as the blond walked past him Zoro fucking spanked him, a big full-handed smack that seemed so tremendously loud in the cozy silence of his apartment. "Oh my god!" Sanji gasped, nearly dropping his glass of wine. "What the fuck was that for!"

Zoro laughed loudly, throwing back his head. "Go shower," he said. Sanji gave him the finger and a hideous face but Zoro just kept laughing.

Sanji drained his glass of wine before stepping in the water and let the warmth of it ease his sore body a bit. He cleaned up carefully, unsure exactly what the night would bring. He walked, towel around his waist, into the bedroom (getting a wolf-whistle from Zoro relaxing on his couch as he did so) and changed into a set of pajamas. He'd become rather fond of the luxe feeling of wearing a proper set of sleeping clothes in the evening. These were a deep, oceanic blue with white piping and a cute collar; they had been marketed as 'women's' pajamas, with a dainty little ruffle to the collar and ends of the sleeves and pants.

Sanji emerged quickly while passing a comb through his long hair.

Zoro made a noise halfway between a dry-heave and a hiccup and, at Sanji's curious look, just said, "You look really good."

When Zoro said something was good, Sanji knew by now, he really meant it. After a pit-stop in the kitchen for another beer for Zoro and the rest of his wine, Sanji returned to the couch. He wedged himself between Zoro and the armrest, throwing his thighs and knees over Zoro's lap. The man didn't seem to mind at all, a greedy, wide hand immediately splaying over his thigh. His thumb rubbed there absently as he accepted the beer with his other hand.

"These are cute," Zoro said, eyeing Sanji appreciatively.

Not sensing any mocking intent, Sanji said simply, "Thanks." And then— "Do you mind if I have a cigarette?"

Zoro paused, and Sanji paid close attention to his response. "No, of course not," Zoro said, "It's your house. But could you crack open a window?"

"Sure," Sanji said, nodding. "Don't want to breathe in too much of it?"

"Yeah." Zoro seemed relieved that Sanji hadn't thrown him out of the house for the suggestion. "I hope that's not a dealbreaker for you."

"Nah." A younger Sanji may have gotten insecure and hurt about that, and insisted that if someone couldn't handle it then they weren't the person for him. But compromise was, truly, such a part of life. He could compromise here. Sanji got up (shooting Zoro a warning look because it seemed like the man wanted to smack his ass again) and did one better than opening a window. He opened the sliding door to his balcony, the tiny screen for bugs closed, of course. It wasn't overly chilly outside, and if the temperature inside dropped a bit then that was all the more reason to cuddle close.

He returned and Zoro's hands were on him right away, warm and gentle. He lit his cigarette, noting the appreciative way Zoro watched him, and grinned around it once it was lit. The hit of nicotine soothed him and he blew the smoke away from Zoro.

"Thanks," Zoro said simply, and Sanji nodded.

When the cigarette was gone, the two of them enjoying the quiet noises of cars on the street filtering inside the open door, Sanji lit another and said, "Ask me a question. Anything."

"Hmm. How long have you been fighting?"

Sanji rolled his eyes. Predictable. "Since I was twelve. My old man enrolled me in Savate classes. I had an attitude problem and needed the shit beaten out of me in a controlled environment, I guess. Started gymnastics at fifteen. I like combining the two. Do you have plans to go back to Japan when you're done with Dracule Mihawk?"

Zoro hummed. "Not sure," he said. "Who knows. I have a house there. S'by the ocean. It would be nice to spend part of the year there, at least. What's your favorite color?"

"Blue," Sanji scoffed, gesturing to his pajama set. "Why are you single?"

"Jeez," Zoro said, then muttered something in Japanese. "You're killin' me with the intense questions, Cook. It's 'cause I don't really… get along with a lot of people, maybe?" He frowned. "I'm an asshole. I know that. And I'm really busy. And it's easy to be such an asshole that I don't have to actually try with anyone, y'know? And I said this, but I do not get along with a lot of these rich celebrity types. It's all so fake, and, ugh." Zoro threw up one hand and took a long swig of beer. "Why are you single?"

Sanji grabbed Zoro's free hand and played with his fingers as he processed Zoro's answer. "You are an asshole," he agreed. "But you're a sweetheart; everyone should be able to see that, too. And I'm definitely not rich! Ha." Sanji gestured around his apartment. "And as for me… Le Tout Bleu was my dream. Is my dream. When I was young… there was no time for a relationship. Or there was, but they ended because I was too focused on my future restaurant. Cooking classes, business management, jobs, stuff like that. Then it really seemed within my grasp, that I could actually have it, and for years that's all I could think about. Then I actually got it, but the first few years of a restaurant—that's dicey. Getting customers. Keeping them. Getting good staff. But it's been five years, and I'm in a good place. Learning to delegate work and rely on my managers and head chef." Sanji shrugged. "If there's a time to get into a real relationship, I guess it's now."

"Convenient," Zoro grinned.

They asked each other more questions, this time of a lighter sort, until Zoro got up for another beer. He returned with a wide yawn, scratching his impeccable abs under the hem of his shirt, and said, "Let's do something. Wanna watch a movie?"

"No!" Sanji blurted. At Zoro's curious look he sat up straighter and dithered, "I, well, I cry a lot when I watch movies, always have, and that's not exactly the image I want to give you on our first date."

Zoro laughed. "I don't mind if you cry."

"I know you don't," Sanji said, shaking his head, "But, not tonight. No way."

Zoro agreed easily enough and picked out a board game he was familiar with from Sanji's shelf. They set it up at Sanji's kitchen table. It quickly devolved into chaos. Zoro was good and kept having the best cards in his hand and Sanji's suspicion that he was cheating grew and grew by the minute. Later, red-faced and furious, he finally burst out, "You're a fucking cheater mosshead!"

"I'm not!" Zoro laughed loudly, shaking his sleeves to prove he didn't have anything hidden up them. "I'm just better than you at this game, suck it up."

"I'll kill you," Sanji threatened, frantically shuffling the deck and resetting his pieces on the board. "Rematch, algae head."

"Is my head moss or algae? Make up your mind, dartboard-brow."

"I don't fucking know. Both? Are they the same thing? Shut up."

Somehow Sanji wiped Zoro in the second playthrough, and seeing the other man grimacing at his cards like they'd offended him made Sanji laugh hard. When Sanji thought they really might throw down over the final point in the game he switched it out for a different one, this time about gathering resources and building cities.

It, too, ended in a spew of insults and yelling, though it all made them giggle like children. Zoro won in the end and Sanji petulantly packed it all away, grumbling, vowing to do better next time. It was late now, and the city was growing quiet.

"You wish," Zoro said, and pulled him by the hips back to the couch.

Sanji fell on top of Zoro, straddling his waist, long hair draped down around Zoro's face. The man looked up at him serenely, taking the whole view in. Sanji liked him a whole fucking lot.

Bracing his elbows on either side of Zoro's face, Sanji dipped his head and kissed him. This was achingly sweet at first, both smiling, lips curved up into happy shapes, but quickly grew more desperate. Zoro's tongue gave Sanji the shivers, his whole body trembling. He wasn't hard; he didn't get hard at the drop of a hat anymore, but arousal thrummed through him.

Sanji rolled his hips, loving putting his weight on Zoro, loving the way Zoro looked up at him so desperately, like Sanji was the only thing he ever wanted in his field of vision ever again. Zoro's hands pet his sides, dipping under the bottom of his shirt. They were warm.

Sanji laid more fully on top of Zoro, needing full-body contact, and kissed the man's neck. Jaw. Chin. Collarbone. Cheek. Lips, lips, lips. Kissed his smile and kissed the groans right out of his mouth. Zoro was warm and comfortable and sturdy, and his arms wound around Sanji's back, holding him tightly, one huge possessive hand splayed on his back.

Zoro… was just so… good.

They breathed each other in, overcome with it all, heartbeats syncing, the soft sounds of the city washing over them both like the tide.

A loud honk from outside, though, brought Sanji to startled wakefulness some time later. The apartment was silent and still. Beneath him Zoro still slept.

They'd fucking fallen asleep making out, Sanji realized, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He got off of Zoro with a groan, rubbing his lower back.

"Marimo," Sanji said, and then, ducking down and pressing a kiss to Zoro's forehead, "Zoro. Wake up."

The other man did, wrinkles of confusion appearing on his forehead and around his eyes as he squinted around. "...The couch?" he asked.

"Mm. Fell asleep." It was funny, so Sanji laughed a little as he closed the door to the balcony. It was honestly pretty cold, now, so he did it quickly, bare feet moving fast over the flooring.

Zoro was groaning and complaining about a crick in his neck and being too old for this shit and Sanji just chuckled, tossing the man his duffle bag before popping into the bathroom where he brushed his teeth and relieved himself. Then he got cozy in his bed, waiting for Zoro to join him, hovering somewhere between sleep and wakefulness.

Eventually he did come, and he was shirtless. His huge arms bundled Sanji up and pressed him close. "Spooning okay?" Zoro rumbled, voice thick with sleep. He smelled of Sanji's toothpaste.

"Yes," Sanji slurred, burrowing back, loving the press of Zoro's soft dick against his ass. "Love it. Tired. Going to sleep. Bye."

"Okay," Zoro chuckled, and pressed small kisses to Sanji's neck and top of his head. Sanji slept, and he slept well.

Morning brought warm light through his curtains and a pleasant, soft fuzziness to everything. Sanji was on his stomach, head propped on his folded arms. He moved around in his sleep a lot, he knew. Zoro was on his side, facing him, mouth slack with sleep. He drooled a little. Handsome.

Zoro had fans. How many of them wanted to wake up exactly where Sanji was right now? Was this a common fantasy of theirs? Did they like Zoro for his acting ability, or his looks, or his personality? All of it? Did Zoro have a rival in the acting world whose fans disliked him?

There really was a lot to this celebrity business, Sanji thought. He carefully crawled out of bed and freshened up in the bathroom, then started the coffee maker. Then he came back to bed, stroking and petting Zoro's face.

"Marimo," he cooed, kissing his forehead like he had at some point in the night.

Zoro woke groggily, but Sanji could spot the moment he really focused on Sanji and remembered where he was. His face split into a lovely smile. "Morning, Sanji," he said.

Sanji went scarlet. "Oh my god," he gasped, "You can't just use my real name like that."

"Gotta use it sparingly for maximum impact," Zoro said through a yawn. He burrowed into Sanji's neck and seemed to be drifting off again.

"Oh no you don't," Sanji warned. "Go brush your teeth. I don't do morning breath. Then come back and fuck me."

Zoro tumbled off the other side of the bed and stood on half-asleep legs, already dragging himself to the bedroom. "Hai," he said, and Sanji smiled to himself, retrieving a condom and the lube as he waited.

When he returned, Zoro's flesh was chilled from his trek through the apartment. He could smell the beginnings of coffee from the kitchen, though, and said as he nuzzled into Sanji's hair, crawling back under the blankets with him, "Mmm, you're perfect."

"I know," Sanji agreed, even though he often felt he was anything but. "You cool with topping?"

"Yes," Zoro said. His lips were so warm, trailing Sanji's jaw to his ear, where he whispered, "I'm okay with anything. I just want to make you feel good."

From there everything was soft, sleepy kisses. Sanji touched Zoro's chest, fingertips sliding gently over that massive scar and the dips and planes of his abs. Zoro carefully unbuttoned Sanji's shirt after a warning growl from the blond about ripping off the buttons, and he threw it aside before enthusiastically exploring Sanji's chest with both lips and hands.

Sanji needed Zoro to touch his dick immediately, and he reached for the waistband of his pants before stilling. Zoro sensed the change in mood and drew back from where he'd been kissing one of Sanji's ribs, whisper-soft.

"Uh," Sanji said stupidly. "Well." He took a steadying breath, peering up at Zoro, now balanced on his knees and waiting patiently for him, then pushed down his pajamas. Underneath his cock strained against the tight-fitting, delicate fabric of the panties he wore. The color was a soft purple, almost lavender, and looked lovely against the deep, dark blue of his pajama set, but that wasn't the point.

"This isn't a problem, is it?" Sanji rasped. "This isn't a kink and I wear them for me." He shrugged helplessly. "I'm almost forty and—I'm just too old to not be myself."

Zoro was blinking rapidly, hands having gone tight on Sanji's hips. Slowly, they eased and Zoro stroked there with his thumbs as if apologizing. "No," Zoro said, "It's not a problem." He seemed to be considering the rather feminine pair of pajamas Sanji wore the previous night, and his eyes flicked to the pair of boots with a larger-than-expected heel in the corner. "I want you to be yourself."

"Good," Sanji said, flushing with happiness, "Now take them off?"

Zoro certainly did, his lips trailing the skin of his legs as the panties were gently pulled off. Zoro kissed his ankles and the arch of his foot, making Sanji smile, then kissed back up and nuzzled at the base of his cock, one hand fiddling with Sanji's balls. The hair there was soft and golden, and Zoro licked a fat, wet stripe up the length of him before swallowing Sanji down fully.

And, ugh, Zoro was just so attentive and good—it was clear he knew what to do and knew how to do it well. Still, Sanji felt so cared for and nothing about it was clinical; Zoro's hands curled around his hips and held him down gently even as Sanji's hips thrust up and his head dug back into his pillow.

"Fuck, fuck, Mosshead, fucking—green-haired moron, asshole," Sanji groaned, unsure exactly what he was spewing but knowing it was making Zoro laugh, the deep vibration of it thrumming around his cock. Zoro's thumbs stroked the most sensitive parts of his balls through his sack and swallowed, sucked, and licked—

"Zoro, Zoro, ZoroZoroZoro," Sanji chanted, thwacking the top of the man's head with his palm, "Stop, please, you fucker—"

Zoro popped off, and his lips were swollen and spread into the most joyous of smiles. "Oh my god," Zoro said, crawling up his body, "You are so cute and such a piece of shit, I can't. I'm so glad I met you."

"...I'm glad I met you," Sanji said, wobbly, oddly emotional as Zoro grabbed the lube. It wasn't cool to say stuff like that when someone was a stiff wind away from orgasm.

Zoro pressed the lube into Sanji's hands and curled both their hands around it, bringing Sanji's knuckles close to press a kiss to them. He asked, "Will you show me what you like?"

Sanji was happy to. He pressed a finger into himself, crooking it and explaining in a low growl how he liked best to be fingered. Zoro listened attentively, his hands never stopping petting Sanji's body. With three fingers in, and Sanji panting against Zoro's mouth, the mosshead took over, crooning praise against Sanji's neck as his own slippery fingers circled his rim and pressed inside.

The fullness was exquisite; his own hand never felt as good as someone else's. Zoro filled him and stretched him and Sanji felt blindly around for the condom he'd left nearby. He ripped it open with his teeth and groaned, "I'm good, I'm good, c'mon."

Zoro rolled it on. "How do you want it?" he asked.

"How do you want it?" Sanji challenged, delirious.

"I want to make you feel good. Sanji. Show me."

And how could Sanji protest when Zoro said his actual name so sweetly? He turned onto his back, encouraging Zoro to spoon up behind him. He lifted a thigh and Zoro grabbed it, adjusting them so he could line up and slide home. Sanji gripped Zoro's arm that caged him in tight across his chest as he was filled, his fingers tightening as he let out a low groan.

Zoro left caring smooches on the back of his neck, gathering Sanji's long hair into one hand and pushing it to the side so he could access as much pale skin as he wanted. His hips thrust slowly, drawing back and filling Sanji again and again. His warm back and hips met Sanji's skin repeatedly and each time it was like Sanji melted a little more, until his head bobbed back bonelessly and he stared unseeingly at his ceiling.

"Zoooro," Sanji breathed. "It's good, it's so good."

Zoro growled into his ear and shoved in particularly deep, staying there afterward, his hand trembling against Sanji's thigh. It was clear what that did to Sanji, the blond clawing at the arm Zoro had slung across his chest like a seatbelt. Zoro's hand slid up Sanji's strong leg to wrap around his cock. He worked it gently, his hands still a little sticky from lube, and peppered Sanji's neck with kisses.

"I wanted you so bad," Zoro admitted, his voice a deep rasp. "I didn't even know you and I couldn't stop thinkin' about gettin' you like this, falling apart 'cause of me, and here you are, and I…" He trailed off, curling around Sanji more, pressing his hips flush against Sanji to make sure every millimeter of his cock stayed in Sanji. It was hot and pulsing and warm and Sanji clenched around it as the speed of Zoro's hand picked up.

He didn't even really want to but Sanji came like that, Zoro's voice a possessive rumble in his ear. He writhed uselessly against Zoro as he dribbled cum all over Zoro's big fingers, gasping and pulling at Zoro's arm.

"There ya go, baby," Zoro murmured, and it wasn't until Sanji had stopped spurting over his hand that Zoro finally gave him a few gentle thrusts, prolonging the shocks and trembles running through Sanji.

"Nngh, fuck." Sanji moved away, popping off with a lewd squelch and climbing to his hands and knees, shaking like a fawn. Zoro watched him, his face bright red with arousal.

Sanji moved to straddle Zoro, pushing him back with a hand on his shoulder. Zoro's clean hand found Sanji's hip again as Sanji lined Zoro back up and sank down with a hum. His sweaty hair stuck to his face and he scrabbled at Zoro's shoulders as he put his weight on his still-shaking thighs and lifted himself up, then fell back down, then again and again.

"You sure?" Zoro groaned, his lashes fluttering. "You don't have to—"

"Shut the fuck up," Sanji snarled, though it lacked heat. His cock was spent and would be for awhile but it was still so good to ride Zoro. Sanji rolled his hips deftly and leant forward and down, grabbing the thin metal bars of his headboard. He kissed Zoro, loving the soft punched-out gasps the man made against his mouth.

Zoro had quite a few grays, mostly streaking from his temples and hairline. Sanji kissed those places too. There were so many small things about Zoro he liked.

The man looked good in his bed. Zoro watched him, quiet now, eyes laser-focused on where their bodies met. Who knew what he was thinking. Sanji shuddered his way through fucking Zoro like this until Zoro suddenly grabbed the back of his head and guided Sanji's face to his thick neck. Zoro's arms then wound around Sanji's back and the man bent his knees, getting the leverage he needed to fuck into Sanji now, hard and incredibly fast.

Sanji moaned then, sure he was fucking crosseyed and glad his face was hidden so Zoro didn't see it. The man's balls slapped lewdly against the curve of Sanji's ass and around him his arms tightened, biceps and neck and chest straining as Zoro held his breath and let out a strained grunt through his clenched teeth—

—"Sannnji," he growled—

When Zoro settled, and his arms had released their vicelike grip, Sanji rolled off of Zoro with a weak thump and buried his face in his sheets. "Gggh," he groaned, enjoying the soft laughter he got in response.

Zoro's warm hand stroked up his thigh to his ass, where his thumb rubbed a gentle circle, prying his cheeks apart just a bit. "Quit it," Sanji griped tiredly.

"You okay? That wasn't too hard or anything?"

"I can take harder. M'fine."

"Okay." Zoro kissed his lower back, and the bed wobbled a bit from Zoro shifting onto his knees. The kisses trailed up Sanji's spine to his ear where Zoro said, a smile evident in his voice, "Are you always useless after sex?"

"Yeah," Sanji agreed easily. "Get me some water and a wipe."

Zoro chuckled again but did as asked, and Sanji drifted in a sleepy, fucked-out haze until Zoro came back. Then he sat up with a groan and drank the offered cup of water. The look in Zoro's eyes was all fond and caring, and he brushed back Sanji's messy tangles with his fingers, gentle as anything.

"I really like that," he said, still playing with his hair, "Getting my partner off first. Doesn't need to be every time but I like it."

Sanji yawned loudly right into Zoro's face. "Sometimes I can do two in a row. Less often these days."

"Pfft. Okay, old man."

"I'll kill you." Sanji gave a weak kick, but Zoro grabbed his ankle and hoisted up his leg, making Sanji tumble backwards onto the bed. "I can wipe my own ass!" he squawked, as Zoro attempted to clean up the sticky lube down there with the damp washcloth he'd brought instead of one of the hygienic wipes Sanji had in a drawer, likely because this… wasn't Zoro's home and he didn't know where they were.

"Aww, c'mon, I don't think it's gross," Zoro was trying to say, but Sanji snatched it from his hands and cleaned himself up as he awkwardly walked to the bathroom, muttering the whole way. He had another quick shower and got dressed under Zoro's watchful eyes, the man lounging by the bedroom window enjoying the view with a mug of coffee in hand. He didn't comment on the new pair of panties Sanji slid up his legs, one of many in his dresser drawer, just watched appreciatively.

Sanji felt a little flustered; he really liked this guy.

He dressed well that day, in tight high-waisted black pants and a white button-up with some movement to it and a loose, flowing v-shaped collar that exposed some of his chest. He loved his suits when he wasn't in his chef's whites but he liked prettier things too; when glancing at himself in his bedroom mirror he thought he looked rather like his social media handle, some kind of prince.

"Hungry?" Sanji asked, meeting Zoro's eyes through the mirror.

"Yeah."

As Sanji made breakfast there was none of the post sleeping-together awkwardness Sanji sometimes had after dates. Zoro acted like Sanji was some kind of slave driver for making him practice with the rice cooker again, but he did successfully get it going and got the measurements right.

Sanji made omelets and they talked about their favorite and least-favorite foods as he cooked. It was a bit of a surprise to learn just how much Zoro disliked sweets, but, if anything, it was a challenge; surely he could whip up something with chocolate or the like that Zoro wouldn't hate. Zoro seemed to like the basics best, and his wide smile as he ate his plain rice and omelet (with no protein powder in the eggs!) was a delight to see.

After helping to wash and dry the dishes, Zoro towed Sanji close by the hand. "So," he said, taking the dish towel from Sanji's hand and tossing it onto the counter, "First date. Went alright?"

"It was… passable."

Zoro snorted. "So do I get a second one?"

Sanji rolled his eyes, and thought that Zoro really must be an idiot if he couldn't figure out what Sanji was going to say all on his own. The last thing he wanted to do was say goodbye to Zoro now. "Duh," he drawled, as Zoro smiled at him again, "of course you do."

Chapter Text

"Cool." Zoro then flew into motion, gathering his things which had spilled out of his duffel in the last twelve hours. Sanji watched, amused. "I was thinking we could spend tonight at my place," Zoro said, "If you wanted?"

"Sure. What should I bring?"

Zoro suggested some comfortable clothes to move around in (the dude wanted to spar, Sanji just knew it) but other than that didn't offer much. Sanji nervously packed a small rolling suitcase with his workout clothes, another nice outfit, and a different PJ set, along with his usual skincare and shower odds-and-ends.

They could call Luffy or order a ride from a company Zoro trusted, but Sanji offered to drive. Zoro took him up on it and they bid Sanji's apartment goodbye. Sanji was rather pleased he was able to host Zoro with such success. His car wasn't much but he loved her, and Zoro readied his maps app in the passenger seat.

"Just tell me where to go," Sanji said.

Famous last words.

Over an hour later, furious as hell, Sanji bellowed that Zoro was never allowed to be in charge of directions again, and how did he fuck up so badly with the damn app open?

"The roads are shifting," Zoro defended, irate, slapping Sanji's hands away every time the blond tried to grab the phone from him.

"Where the hell are we, even?" Sanji was on some highway he'd never even seen before, and although the view was spectacular he was grinding his teeth together from rage. Finally, a threat to pull out his own phone and just drive back to his own apartment got Zoro to pass it over, and with a string of curses Sanji pulled the first U-turn he could and headed back into town. Zoro was supposed to be a twenty minute drive away!

Eventually, though, they arrived, and in revenge he made Zoro carry both their bags up into the complex from the fancy parking garage. The place was, obviously, expensive. Zoro had to scan a security fob at no less than three different doors. They entered an elevator at the same time as an elderly, willowy Black man who, when he saw them coming, exclaimed, "Yohoho! Zoro! Do my eyes deceive me, or is this your Pirate Chef?"

Zoro groaned and jammed the button for the fifth floor. "Yeah, it's him," Zoro said. Sanji could see that he was fighting a smile though.

"I have a name," Sanji sighed.

"I'm sure you do!" The man gave a gracious little bow and held out a hand. "Brook Kostra," he greeted, "And please do me the honor of learning your full name, Pirate Chef?"

"Uh, Sanji Black. Nice to meet you too."

Brook kissed the back of Sanji's hand and, beet-red, Sanji cradled it to his chest afterward. Zoro rolled his eyes sky-high and, when the elevator arrived, grabbed Sanji's hand. They went right, and Brook went left, evidently having a condo on the same floor. There were only a few doors.

Sanji's curiosity over Zoro's neighbor was dampened by the sheer pleasure of holding his hand. Zoro led him confidently down the hall to the end, before he turned and muttered something unintelligible.

"You can't be serious," Sanji said, when he realized that Zoro's condo was the one across the hall from Brook's. The man was waiting outside his door with a smile, perhaps waiting to see how long it would take for Zoro to realize he'd gone the wrong way down the hall.

Sanji asked, "Does he always do this?"

"He most certainly does," the man answered, chortling in his funny way. "I find him lost in the garage all the time! Look out for him, won't you, Sanji?"

"I'm on it," Sanji promised, and followed Zoro into the right apartment. The man's ears were red. They took off their shoes and Zoro started to shuck his sweatshirt but Sanji didn't give him an inch before his lips were on Zoro's. The other man hummed and went easily enough with it, letting Sanji's arms wind around his neck and leaning into the kiss.

When they broke apart Sanji said, rather breathlessly, "You're such an idiot. It's cute."

"Whatever," Zoro said sourly. "Brook seems pretty taken with you. Go kiss him if I'm such an idiot."

Sanji ignored him, doing his own version of nosily snooping around. The place was big; there must have been no more than 6 condos on the whole floor of the large building. It was multi-level too; he had been wondering why there were only odd numbers in the elevator. "This is like a fucking house!" he marvelled. "And why would I kiss Brook when I have you?" He blew Zoro a dramatic, smacking kiss from halfway up the staircase. "Who is he anyway?"

Zoro followed gamely with their bags. "A singer. Goes by 'Soul King Brook.'"

"Oh! I think my friend plays his songs sometimes."

The second floor was only home to Zoro's bedroom and a guest bedroom. The guest one was freakishly neat and looked rather untouched while Zoro's looked much more lived-in. It wasn't messy, per say, which was another point in Zoro's favor, because Sanji was not interested in being anyone's maid. The bed wasn't made but the things around the room all had their spots. The dresser had some photos of Zoro and a Japanese woman Sanji remembered from the movie he had seen already, his co-star. There was a slightly-cracked one of him and Luffy, and another of Zoro and—

"Mellorine!" Sanji cried, snatching it off the dresser. "It's Nami! Oh, Zoro, you lucky algae monster, you were in the presence of a goddess. Look at her, elle est extrêmement belle, une déesse, ses lèvres, ses yeux!"

"I don't know what you're saying but it sounds perverted," Zoro grunted. He flopped onto his bed with a huff, watching Sanji twirl around with the frame.

"'She's a goddess, her lips, her eyes'," Sanji translated loosely. "Wow. Beautiful." Carefully he placed it back on the dresser and joined Zoro in bed. He tucked himself close and encouraged Zoro to use his bicep as a pillow. He dropped a kiss to Zoro's head as their legs tangled.

"She's a witch, but one of my best friends. That reminds me… I have a question for ya."

"Mm?"

"Are you bi? Gay?"

"Bisexual," Sanji said easily, with none of the anxiety saying that word brought him for over half his life. "In theory, someone's gender doesn't matter to me at all. Although I've mostly dated women."

"And mostly fucked them too?"

"And slept with them, yes. I don't have a ton of experience with men, but enough." The sly smile on Zoro's face was cute, and Sanji poked his cheek. "Women are delightful. Goddesses! Loveliness incarnate."

Zoro snorted. "You are so obnoxious. I don't have to worry about anything, do I?"

Sanji sobered. "No," he said. "If you and I decide we're exclusive then that's it. I've never cheated, never will. I'll still admire women and tell them they're beautiful, but I don't fuck around like that."

"Okay." The seriousness of Zoro's tone reflected the seriousness of the topic. "I'm gay but my agent way back when told me not to talk about it. Didn't want to be blacklisted anywhere or lose opportunities you know? So I've never talked about it in public and refuse to answer when they ask me about girlfriends or whatever."

"...But I guess that's ruined now, because of me."

"Pffft. Nah, it was ruined when paps got pics of me making out with Luffy's brother Ace last year. Kinda got swept under the rug because the other scandals from that party we were at were juicier. But yeah, I guess I'm done hiding it."

"I'm glad," Sanji said. Everything about Zoro was so unashamedly him; it wasn't right for this man to hold anything back. Zoro really had a thing for Sanji's thin waist and hips, it seemed; he grabbed and pet Sanji there as he nuzzled his face deeper into Sanji's chest. For a few minutes they lay there, and Sanji tried to reflect on how this whole thing had come about, and how much he liked Zoro. Mostly his mind just drifted somewhere happy.

"Mmmn. Let's get up and moving or I'll fall asleep."

"We haven't been awake all that long," Sanji hummed.

"There's always time for naps." Zoro yawned loudly to prove it. "But y'know what would wake me up?"

Sanji humored him. "What."

"If I got to kick your ass."

"I knew you wanted to hit the gym! We can go. I'm eager to see if all those muscles of yours are just for show."

Zoro grunted and then swung himself up and over Sanji, frowning down at him. He let some of his weight onto the blond and said, with a lecherous grin, "You know that's not the case."

"Whatever," Sanji huffed, squirming underneath him. If it came to it and he was pinned, he'd probably have a problem getting around Zoro's pure brute strength. He'd just have to be fast enough and smart enough to avoid that in the first place. Zoro let some of his weight settle onto Sanji, sitting in his lap. The man leant down for a kiss. The fine wrinkles in his face were deepened in the shadows from the sunlight. Sanji traced one by Zoro's mouth with his thumb.

"You are very attractive."

Zoro turned his head to kiss Sanji's thumb. "Thanks." Then he bit it.

"Ow!" It hadn't actually hurt but it had startled Sanji, and he cradled his hand to his chest, scandalized.

"Now that it's the second date I can start showing you all my many faults. I'm a biter." He flashed his perfect teeth and snapped his jaw by the tip of Sanji's nose.

"Help!" Sanji cried, "I'm being eaten alive by a mossman!"

"Later," Zoro leered, and departed after a final smooch and another shocking little bite to Sanji's shoulder. "C'mon, let's get dressed."

Watching Zoro pull on his expensive branded athletic clothes was a feast for the senses. He was so fucking hot. It was no wonder that Sanji got distracted. The joggers he wore were shapely around his butt and thighs. Even his socks looked high-quality, although they were mismatched. Sanji changed quickly, surprised at the ease in which he'd done this in front of Zoro a few times now. It was not awkward at all.

He jumped a little, though, when Zoro wormed a finger between the band of his panties and hip, pulling back just slightly and letting it snap. He asked, extremely bluntly, "Do you like being rimmed?"

Sanji scrambled the rest of the way into his mesh basketball shorts and answered, "Yeah, I do, but what's that got to do with anything?"

Zoro shrugged. "Thinking about it."

"Yeah, yeah, I have a nice butt."

"Yeah you do." Zoro moved close and stroked a wide hand down Sanji's spine to feel out the curve of it. His fingertips gently traced the faint outline he could feel of Sanji's underwear underneath. "Lemme eat you out later."

Sanji let out a psssh noise between his lips and moved away from Zoro with a huff. Some people had no tact! (Still, and he hated himself a little for it, he enjoyed Zoro's bullheaded way of saying whatever was on his mind. There wasn't much guessing with this one.)

The bedroom had a large, fancy closet and drawer system along one wall. Sanji peeked into some of them (a lot of the clothes in there looked totally untouched, like he'd been gifted them or had to wear them once to an event and then never again) and he followed that wall, his hand trailing alongside it, to the attached bathroom.

The big, immediate draw was, of course, the tub! No, it was not a tub, it was some sort of jacuzzi, a big thing meant for relaxing inside as jets soothed your aching muscles. The toilet clearly had not been scrubbed in a while (a brute, that Zoro was) but above it was shelf after shelf of skincare products, which was… unexpected.

But then again, Zoro was an actor whose whole life centered around being on film.

"Ugh," Zoro groaned, seeing Sanji looking, "I hate having to do that damn skincare routine."

Sanji was delighted. "Some of this stuff is so high quality! This is great!"

"Have at it," Zoro said with a laugh. "My agent nags me if I don't do it."

"Forget that," Sanji said, moving over to the tub, "This thing is beautiful." Sanji played with a tap or two, and there was even a spigot of some kind of perfumed oil to add to the water. The whole thing had a thin layer of dust on it and Sanji just knew Zoro was the type to take a 5 minute shower, grunt, and call it done, but oh, his tiny tub at home could not compare.

Sanji turned around, grabbed Zoro's hand, and dropped to one knee.

"Marimo," he said. "I've only known you about a week, but the baths I will have here makes it worth it. Will you—"

Zoro kicked out with a leg and Sanji blocked it, snickering, a little off-balance. Zoro let loose a chain of punches, all slow-motion and dramatic, and Sanji blocked each one as he laughed, "C'mon! Just look at that thing."

"I never use it."

"I'll change that."

Zoro just grunted, and they went downstairs to grab water and a disgusting protein shake for Zoro and wait for a text from Luffy. The bodyguard was on his way to pick them up; Zoro explained that they often hit the gym together, so Luffy drove instead of Zoro calling a company.

"And you don't drive there because…"

"Because I'm cursed to have the roads move around when I'm behind the wheel, yeah, curly-brow."

By the time Sanji finished exploring the rest of Zoro's apartment and tutted disapprovingly at the state of its fridge, Luffy had arrived. "Yooo!" he called from behind the wheel of a big black sedan, the windows tinted. He took a big slurp from an energy drink and asked, "You guys ready?"

"Yup," Sanji said, but he should have said, "No fucking way in hell" because Luffy's driving, unfortunately, was as abysmal as Zoro's but for different reasons. He sped through town, hitting the curb and slamming the brakes each time they had to stop. Sanji clutched onto Zoro for dear life in the backseat, but Zoro seemed unbothered.

All Zoro had to say about it was, "His whole job is to keep me alive. He's not gonna kill me in an accident."

Seeing a little bit of Zoro's world was a treat. The man had already seen Le Tout Bleu and Sanji's home. This was his usual gym, and Sanji didn't see information about the cost of passes anywhere which meant they had to be damn pricey. Fancy fridges with complimentary essenced waters and the like were peppered around, as well as massage tables and who knew what the hell else. Sanji was a little awed, and a little out of place, but gamely followed behind Zoro and Luffy, who was such an exuberant force that it was hard to feel awkward in his vicinity.

They stretched, they warmed up, and they kicked each other's asses.

Zoro's muscles were indeed not all for show, it seemed, because his punches were fast and hit hard as fuck, even with the gloves he donned. But Sanji was no lightweight and he'd proven that to Zoro himself. They sparred for awhile, grinning and shit-talking. Occasionally Luffy would drop by and encourage them, but he was lifting a truly absurd amount of iron in the main area for such a small dude.

Sanji loved it. He loved the thick smacking noise as his bare foot met Zoro's block and the grunts of exertion as Sanji really made him work for it. He loved the look of surprise as, several times over, Sanji unexpectedly dropped low or into a split and knocked Zoro off his feet.

His jaw hurt like a motherfucker and he'd forgotten a hair tie so long blond strands stuck to his face and got in his eyes but even that was exhilarating, and Sanji loved it most of all when, as he was known to do, flipped into a sudden cartwheel and kicked with all his strength, coming back to his feet fluidly.

Zoro had blocked it, but even so the force made his padded hand knock back against the side of his head. Zoro blinked, wobbled, and fell to the ground with a thud.

"Alright!" Sanji said, and did a dumb little victory dance, shaking his hips and twirling on one foot before striking a pose and pointing at Zoro, still dazed, lying on the mat.

"I totally got that!" came Luffy's loud voice from behind them.

The younger man beamed and waved his cell phone in the air. "Nice kick, Sanji!"

"Send it to me," Zoro groaned from the floor, half garbled. Sanji helped him to his feet. Zoro, curiously, did not seem as frustrated by his loss as Sanji expected. Instead he marched over to Luffy and watched the video on his phone, grinning wildly.

"You up for another round, old man?" Sanji asked, flicking his hair dramatically over his shoulder.

Zoro tightened his gloves. "You know it, Curly."

It had come to no surprise when, after their spar and grabbing a quick lunch downtown, Zoro had wanted to relax on the couch with a beer in his own filth. Through the careful application of some flirting and the reminder that people had to be naked for baths he'd gotten Zoro to agree to join him. The jets had been exquisite on their bodies which didn't bounce back quite as quickly from a beating as they used to.

It was intimate, cleaning somebody else. Zoro let Sanji scrub him, let him sit close and wipe him down and wash his hair. Scritch his scalp. Press kisses to those small patches of graying hair. Kiss his damp neck. Zoro held his eye contact and pressed their foreheads together as he cleaned Sanji in turn, his fingers strong and sure.

It was a heady thing. Zoro's presence filled any room he was in, and this tub was bigger than it had any right to be but seemed so small with Zoro there, big and warm and his touches so… tender, almost. Caring. He touched Sanji kindly now, the opposite of his rapid-fire punches earlier.

Sanji liked Zoro so much.

But all that touching and intimacy had a very predictable end and Zoro had followed up on a promise from earlier, bringing Sanji to where he was now: bent over the lip of the tub, clutching onto any purchase he could get, and moaning brokenly into the damp air as Zoro's tongue lapped at his hole, then pressed inside.

Blood pounded in his ears as his arms shook something fierce. Zoro's name left his trembling lips again, it shaky and weak but echoing nevertheless off the tiles. Zoro growled deep in his throat, licking into Sanji like he was fucking starving for it.

Sanji's cock hung down hot and heavy in the warm water, and occasionally Zoro would give it a squeeze, but it was otherwise neglected. All the pleasure Zoro had to give him was there, and Sanji wasn't sore from sex that morning per se but he could feel the slightly-aching pressure and slide of Zoro's tongue on his hole more acutely than he might have otherwise.

"Zoroooo," Sanji groaned, extending the note, canting his hips back and gasping as Zoro grabbed two meaty fistfuls of his ass, spreading his cheeks and pressing deeper.

This man was such an animal. A brute. A caveman, all unstoppable force. He did whatever he pleased in his daily life and here, too, devouring Sanji alive.

It had been years since someone had done this to him. Years - probably approaching a decade! He felt wrung-out and shaky, peering over his shoulder at the other man. Zoro met his eyes over the curve of his own asscheek and winked, the fucker, before sliding in a finger as he tongued Sanji's rim.

Sanji gave it up, crossing his arms on the edge of the tub and letting his head fall onto them. His thighs trembled on the little raised ledge, much like one would find in a hot tub.

Zoro fucked Sanji on his fingers until the blond's legs gave out. Sanji's arms flailed as he tipped backwards off the ledge into the deeper part of the tub, but Zoro caught him effortlessly and kissed the back of his neck in apology.

Sanji turned around, gathered his wet and conditioned hair over one shoulder, and lifted his thighs over Zoro's. Their balls touched like this, both sitting on the bottom of the tub, and Sanji lined their dicks up, holding both in his hand.

"You're better at that than you are at sparring," Sanji said, but it came out in such a hiccuppy, gasping kind of way that Zoro ignored the insult and merely lowered a hand to help Sanji jerk them off.

Zoro's head fell to Sanji's shoulder, and Sanji peered behind him at the back wall as they worked their way to completion. Zoro kept muttering soft somethings in Japanese between sharp nips and bites to Sanji's collarbone and soft skin (he'd be covered). Zoro's other arm held him so securely and tightly as they came, closely together, so tight like Sanji was someone precious to him, like they'd known of each other longer than just one fucking week.

He smattered Sanji's other shoulder in kisses as he came down, and Sanji melted forward against Zoro's broad chest. Zoro pet Sanji's sides through the aftershocks and until they were both loose and pliant, supporting each other. Sanji stroked both his hands up and down Zoro's broad back. Unlike the massive scar on his chest, his back was smooth and unblemished.

"Mmm," Zoro hummed into his neck, squeezing Sanji's waist tight with both his arms. "You're great. Fuck. C'mon, my balls are probably getting all wrinkly."

Sanji laughed, smacking Zoro's shoulder with the palm of his hand. Then he did it again as he said, "You're so gross."

"Whatever," Zoro huffed. He leant in for a kiss. Sanji allowed it. Then Zoro stood, which put his now-soft dick even with Sanji's face. The blond smirked up at Zoro and splayed out his tongue.

Zoro grunted out an irritated noise, looking down at Sanji like he had just insulted his mother. "You're sexy. Stop it."

Sanji licked a lascivious stripe up Zoro's limp shaft and suckled at the head briefly. Zoro's cock gave an interested twitch and he huffed again. "I'm gonna fuck you again as soon as I can," he promised.

Sanji popped off, gave a final lick, and said with a haughty sniff, "You wish, old man."

"Oi." Zoro used his foot to splash water on Sanji, who coughed and splashed back. For their own good, the both of them got out of the tub before the fight could grow worse or involve a ton of cleanup.

Zoro was happy to dry Sanji off, relishing the chance to rub a towel over his body. As Sanji climbed back into his clothes under Zoro's appreciative eye Zoro said, rather awkwardly, "...Hey. I have a question for you."

"Hm?" Sanji ran his fingers through his long hair, making it lie attractively with the part in the usual place he liked.

"Probably shoulda asked you this before now, but I was just…wondering. Um. Your pronouns?"

Sanji turned, surprised. Zoro was squinting at him and his face was a little uneasy, like he did not have a ton of experience asking this sort of question but was trying his best.

"Oh. You're asking because… of my clothes?" Sanji clarified, stepping close. He touched Zoro, gently but carefully, squeezing his fingers. "Because I occasionally dress more femininely?"

"Yeah." Zoro nodded.

Sanji tilted his head, charmed, and gave Zoro another encouraging squeeze. "Well, thanks for asking. I like He and Him. Though I do like it when I get referred to with the occasional they, I'm content enough with he/him." He smiled. "Thank you. And you?"

"Uh, yeah, he/him." Zoro nodded enthusiastically.

Zoro had just been standing there, uncaring of his nakedness, and Sanji handed him some clothes as he said, "I always liked the idea of wearing pretty things, looking pretty, whatever; it took me a long time to get over myself and let myself wear and look how I wanted. Many years."

"Well, I like it." Zoro dressed easily and halfheartedly rubbed a towel over the wet puddles on the ground outside the tub. "I like you the way you are. So keep it up, I guess."

Sanji appreciated Zoro's earnest, if clumsy attempts at understanding him better. "Let me cook us dinner."

"Sure, Curly, but I don't have much. You sure you don't wanna order a pizza or something?"

"Please," Sanji scoffed, "I became a cook so I could show off."

"No you didn't. You like to take care of people and feed them."

True, Sanji had explained all that. He clucked his tongue at Zoro for remembering, cute and thoughtful piece of shit that he was. "Well, let me take care of you and feed you then, and show off."

Zoro's fridge was, predictably, empty as hell. Sanji tossed a few moldy items in the back into the trash and pulled out his phone. "There's a market a few blocks away," he called to Zoro, who was up the stairs on the second level. "Want to go?"

"Uhhh," Zoro yelled back, "Not really? I mean, I try to avoid going out when I don't have to— I mean, I can find something to cover my hair if you give me a minute—"

Sanji took pity on him. "It's fine!" he hollered back. "Big fancy famous guy, I get it! I'll be back soon. How do I get back in?"

"Text me! I'll get you from the lobby!"

Sanji grabbed his wallet and a couple reusable tote bags he found crammed into the back of a cabinet. Right, Zoro was famous… and without his bodyguard, Luffy, besides. He shook his head, stepping quietly out into the hallway. The carpet was plush and absorbed most of the sound of the chunky heel of his sandals. Soft music was barely audible through Brook's door.

Celebrity life, huh.

While it was a bummer that Zoro could not even go to a corner market without preparing himself for hiding from the public, Sanji could understand. It was just something he'd have to get used to, is all. Right? He could do that. …Right?

The nearby market was surprisingly nice, having a variety of fresh ingredients and a small butcher in the back. Sanji chatted pleasantly with another customer about a few products and, buzzing happily from good sex, a pleasant date, and the thrill of a good bargain, returned to Zoro's.

It was when he was faced with the security guard in the lobby of Zoro's building that he realized with a jolt, shocking him out of his good mood, that he'd forgotten to actually get Zoro's number.

"I'm with Zoro Roronoa," he tried, smiling awkwardly at the man behind a desk. "This is dinner for him, he's a friend of mine and I stepped out for just a minute. Oh, fuck it."

The man just said, with a large grin, "Wait, you're Zoro's Pirate Chef!"

"Uh, yeah," Sanji said weakly.

"Hahaha! Dude, he's been talking about you so much. 'Oh, Pirate Chef is so cool,' 'Boo Hoo I wanna go on a date with Pirate Chef.' Hey, Yosaku!"

Another building employee poked his head out from the room behind the welcome desk. "Yeah? Hey, Pirate Chef!"

"Zoro really talks about me that much?"

"Yeah." The first guy shrugged. "But we're, like, his friends, so it's not that weird. I'm Johnny, that's Yosaku. Zoro hangs with us a lot. Nice knockout, by the way."

"What?"

Yosaku fished his phone out of his pocket and pulled up Twitter, where Zoro Roronoa had posted a few minutes earlier a clip of Sanji kicking Zoro, Zoro falling down, and Sanji doing a dance. He kicked my ass, was the caption, along with a heart emoji.

"Oh. Oh. Well, thank you," Sanji said, feeling silly.

"He hates being followed by people so he doesn't leave the building when he doesn't have to a lot of the time, so we hang out with him. You can go on up, Pirate Chef, man."

"My name is Sanji."

Yosaku laughed and elbowed Johnny, the two of them looking at each other and snickering. Some sort of joke Sanji was not privy to. "See ya, Sanji," he said with a wave, and gestured Sanji past them towards the elevators.

Zoro answered the door quickly after Sanji knocked, and the pure joy on the man's face as Sanji stepped inside humbled him. Sanji handed Zoro the bags, shucked off his sandals and followed Zoro to the kitchen, where Zoro was trying to figure out where to put some of the things Sanji had gotten. When he pulled out the two steaks inside he said, "Oh hell yeah" and tossed them onto the counter with a smack. The brute.

Mischievous, Sanji hugged Zoro from behind, dropped his chin onto Zoro's shoulder, and cooed, "I heard that you talk about me to the desk workers downstairs."

"Uhhh. Yeah, I guess."

"You really, really like me, don't you, Zoro?"

The tremor that went through Zoro's frame at the use of his name was easy to feel when wrapped around him like this. Sanji's smile deepened.

"Yeah," Zoro grunted. "I told you that already."

"But it's nice to be reminded." Sanji kissed the lovely tan skin of Zoro's neck.

They enjoyed their dinner in a peaceful quiet. Something seemed to be on Zoro's mind, because occasionally he would glance up from his plate and stare at Sanji intently, then skitter his gaze away when it met Sanji's. Sanji let him be. It was afterward, as they washed and dried the dishes together, that Zoro said quietly, "...Hey."

"Mmm?"

"What do you think about me being famous and all that?" Zoro passed Sanji a soapy plate to rinse. "Like, isn't it annoying? I didn't even go to the store with you."

Firmly, Sanji said, "We'll figure it out."

"You say that now, but you haven't really been harassed yet. Or followed. Or had to be snuck in and out of places."

"We'll figure it out. I'm not scared away yet."

"Fine," Zoro said, but he did not sound entirely convinced.

The only thing for that, Sanji decided, was time. They'd encounter those things as they came. If they came. If their relationship lasted beyond this weekend, even. He hoped it would.

"Come on," he murmured soon after, leading Zoro by the hand to the couch. "I know you want to cuddle."

"I do," Zoro agreed easily. "And a question for you."

"Hm?"

"Since this is our second date, how about we…"

"You're going to suggest a movie."

"—Watch a movie?"

"Fine. But it's your fault if you break up with me because I get snotty."

"Cut me a break, Curly. As if I would."

Sanji threw a blanket over both their laps and guided Zoro's head to his shoulder. "Let's do it, then."

Later, Zoro's friend Nami receives a photo texted to her phone. Her wife pushes blue hair back from her forehead as she passes Nami her phone and says, "It's from Zoro."

"Thanks, Viv," Nami says with a smile, and opens it up. The picture is a selfie Zoro took, his arm outstretched to hold the phone and the other one around the blond man he had been unable to shut up about the past week. Pirate Chef's face is red and blotchy from crying, and his cheeks look sticky and damp. His blue eyes are all watery as he scowls at the phone. Zoro, though, is all smiles, his teeth showing as he grins fiercely. The attached message says that they watched one of Nami's very own movies.

OMG, she texts back, looks like you two are getting along well! Give him an extra kiss from me since he apparently likes me so much ;) lol. Bring him by sometime.

I will, is the quick response.

Monday night, laden with bags of souvenirs and sunburnt, they make out against Zoro's front door.

The day had been spent at a tiny beach town a couple hours' drive away (Sanji drove and navigated both, of course) quietly walking along the water and eating junk food purchased on the boardwalk. Zoro wore his hat and sunglasses the whole time, and an unassuming outfit. As far as Sanji knew Zoro had not been discovered, and the day had been lovely. When they got home they'd showered off the sand and sun and Sanji had fucked Zoro slow and tender in his bed. The man had purred deep in his chest and laid there like a big, contented cat as Sanji filled him.

Zoro bit at Sanji's neck, making the blond squeak out an embarrassing noise. A big, contented tiger, perhaps.

"I have to go," Sanji said for not the first time, against Zoro's grinning mouth.

"Then go," Zoro responded, also repeating himself. He kissed Sanji again though.

"Fine! Help me carry my things to the car," Sanji eventually got out. Zoro did, and they kissed again against the door. Zoro's grip was tight in Sanji's hair, but it eventually loosened until he stroked Sanji's hair back from his forehead with both hands, exposing both of those curly eyebrows. Zoro kissed both of them. Then he pulled back.

"I had a good time. I'd like to see you again."

"You mentioned some more filming you're traveling for. When will you be back?"

"A little over two weeks. If you would wait for me, Cook, I—that'd be great. I want you to know I'm serious about you."

"I know," Sanji rasped. Zoro's hands moved, and he gently combed Sanji's long hair back into place.

Zoro said, with finality, "Okay then. Good. I'll see you when I get back."

"Yes, you will. But first I need your phone number."

Zoro looked confused, and he chuckled under his breath to himself when he realized he had yet to exchange numbers with Sanji. He put his contact info in under the name Marimo. Sanji put his in Zoro's phone as Sanji ChefNotCook.

"Bye, Marimo," Sanji said, getting into his car. He blew Zoro a kiss through the window after he shut the door between them. Zoro waved, then stuck his hands in his pockets, stubbornly standing and waiting to watch Sanji leave the parking garage. Sanji's heart hurt.

On the way home he called Robin, putting her on speaker so he could drive safely. She was eagerly waiting for details about his weekend.

"How'd it go, Sanji-bro?" Franky asked from the background somewhere, his voice tinny and faint.

"It went so well," Sanji gushed, smiling to himself as he navigated the city home, "He's so annoying. He's great."

"Annoying but great?" Robin's voice sounded so fond. "I'm so glad, Sanji."

"Yeah. There's so much chemistry between us." Sanji would never say this embarrassing shit to Zoro's face but Robin, his loveliest flower and oldest friend, never made fun of him. "Whether we're getting along or bickering or whatever, it's all so fun. I didn't expect it to go this well, honestly."

"Some photos of your date at the restaurant ended up online - unsurprising, but they were so sweet. I'm assuming you will see each other again?"

"Yes. Definitely." Of that, Sanji was sure.

In the background Sanji could hear Franky sniffling. Robin told Sanji that she was happy for him, and that he'd been single for too long, and that Zoro could be good for him. She always looked out for him.

"Thanks, Robin," Sanji said, grateful, as always, for her support.

His apartment seemed lonelier without Zoro's massive presence inside it. Sanji texted Zoro good night, and he asked if Zoro had eaten the leftovers he'd left for him in the fridge.

Yeah, I did. It was good. Night, CookNotChef. : )

Fuck off, Sanji replied, and then, after a moment deliberating, a rather cheesy: ❤️

Sanji's attempt to play it cool once back at work the following day failed rather spectacularly right away. He entered through the staff door in the back and beelined for his office, but he passed by the kitchens to do so, and someone hollered, "Chef Black's here!"

Sighing to himself, Sanji poked his head fully into the kitchens. There were almost a dozen grinning faces in there, folks who had been hard at work for awhile now. The kitchen smelled wonderful, of veggies and meats and sauces being prepared for the many meals that would be cooked later that day.

"How was it?"

"I saw the video of you and Zoro sparring!"

"Did you make him your signature coq au vin? That would lock down anybody."

"Chef! You look happy!"

Sanji let them all talk at him, smiling despite himself. "You might all see a strange mossman coming to eat here again," was all he said, and he winked at his employees before strutting past them to his office. Behind him he heard some laughing and one loud wolf-whistle.

God, but he loved them all!

Robin met him outside his office. She still had on her coat, probably having just arrived, and handed him his favorite coffee, still steaming around its small cardboard sleeve. "Oh, Robin," Sanji gushed, taking a careful sip, "Marry me."

Robin smiled softly but otherwise ignored that. "It's good to see you," was all she said, and gently guided him with a hand on his back to his office.

Sanji did have work to do, it being Tuesday when they received shipments of a number of staples like flour and the like. By the time he finished double-checking everyone's work and making sure his spreadsheets were correct, he emerged from his office again to find Usopp showing Coby how to make a basic paella at the practice workstation.

Suddenly so fucking proud he felt like he could throw up from it, Sanji ducked away into the main dining room. The familiar blues of the aquarium immediately soothed him.

A few people looked up and waved. Sanji waved back, giving a gracious bow to a small group of blushing young women. One had a green sweatshirt with Zoro's name on the back much like a sports jersey. They all giggled among themselves.

Carrot bounced over to him and whispered, "Zoro's tweets about you are just so sweet—I'm so happy for you, Chef Black, really!"

"Thank you, Carrot, dear."

Conis updated him on how things had gone the past two days, and Sanji clapped Helmeppo on the back as he passed. "Keep it up," he encouraged, and arrived back in the kitchen just in time to sample Usopp and Coby's dish. It was so spicy it made him cough and his nose run, but it had been made with care, and it showed. Coby took a dozen photos of it, and a photo of Sanji eating it.

"Did you get Zoro's number?" Coby asked.

"Yup. You won't have to suffer through us flirting in DMs anymore."

"Whaaat?" Usopp looked between them. "You got to read Chef Black's saucy DMs?"

"I did," Coby said. "They were so gushy. Like, Zoro is obsessed with him."

"We already knew that," one of Sanji's staff chimed in from behind.

"Coby," Sanji said then, "Do you have your selfie stick?"

Confused, but eager, Coby said that he did, and went to his bag to fetch it. Sanji turned and watched his cooks work. They all called out items and numbers and worked around each other, nobody dropping anything or getting orders confused. The kitchen smelled so good. Kiku supervised even as she created some masterpiece of her own.

Sanji had wondered if at his age he'd even had any love left in his heart, after falling so desperately for his restaurant and his staff. This was his home and this his family. His heart thumped in his chest, so full it felt like it might burst.

Still—maybe he did have some room left. A marimo-shaped space. Only time would tell.

"Get Robin," Sanji ordered Usopp.

When everyone was there Sanji hooked Coby's phone up to the selfie stick because it had the best camera. "Everyone pause for a second!" Sanji bellowed.

Movement in the kitchen stilled, and once realizing Sanji was trying to get everyone in for a photo, his staff scrambled over each other to be seen around the hanging equipment and workstations. Sanji pulled Usopp under his arm and Robin hooked her chin over his shoulder, smiling sweetly at his phone.

Sanji beamed his fucking hardest, his eyes scrunching from the force of his joy. Behind him his staff held up peace signs or struck cute poses. Coby lowered his glasses and winked over them, like he thought that made him look cool.

Sanji took the photo.

Back in his office, and with Coby having texted him the image, Sanji posted it on his personal Twitter account.

@MrPrinceSB: Thanks tout le monde at @LeToutBleu for your hard work lately. There's nowhere I'd rather be. I'll fight for all of you, always, again and again if I have to. Je t'aime.

Chapter Text

[The selfie is really ugly.  It’s taken from a terrible angle, low and beneath Zoro’s chin.  He’s staring sadly into the camera.]

@Roronoa:  I miss the curly cook.  

@EDILY: @Roronoa Aww Zoro youll see him soon!

@CherryCanz: @Roronoa omg i literally can’t believe he and pirate chef are actually dating

@MrPrinceSB: @Roronoa you miss the curly CHEF, handsome.

@Butterfly.ETH: @Roronoa: selling this pic of Zoro on #NFTDatabase click HERE for info on crypto and Zoro NFTs #cashgrab #zorororonoa #nfts #bedifferent #nftftw #zoronft #roronoanft 

@BattleFranky: ZORO BRO COME BACK SOON it’ll be SUPER to meet you I can’t wait lololol

Water 7 Times

Written by Paulie G.L

Assault Charge Appeal Rejected in ‘Pirate Chef’ Case

M. Hogback, head of Perona Mihawk fanclub ‘Ghosties’ has lost his appeal against ‘Pirate Chef’ Sanji Black for alleged assault.  Despite the court’s initial ruling that Black had legal authority to physically kick Hogback, an appeal was……

Once or twice a week they’d have a staff huddle before opening for lunch where the managers of Sanji’s three departments—hospitality, kitchens, and custodial—would give pertinent updates, or Robin, the general manager for the whole restaurant, would discuss something.  Conis came to them one day with a wicked gleam in her eye and cleared her throat loudly until everyone else shut up.  

I have an announcement,” she declared, waving one hand dramatically in the air.  Sanji waited in the back, his hip leaning against a countertop, and he raised an expectant eyebrow.  

“So, yesterday,” she began, “Table 8… was empty… all day!” 

Everyone cheered and one of Sanji’s cooks wrapped him in a wild hug.  It might have seemed counter productive to be so damn excited about a drop in patronage but everyone knew what this really meant: things were officially going back to normal!  

Some of Sanji’s chefs had actually lost weight from all the extra running and bustling around during the day they had to do, so Sanij had been especially intense about making sure his staff got their free meals during their shifts.  They were all exhausted, but they’d weathered this popularity storm together.  

One of Sanji’s waiters called over a few heads, “Keep bringing Zoro and his bodyguard by, Chef Black, we need those good tips more than ever now!” 

Sanji rolled his eyes fondly.  “I will, whenever he’s back from his trip.”

The huddle ended soon after, and Sanji started checking the state of their things in the freezer and fridge against an inventory sheet pinned to a clipboard.  As he did so, though, he thought fondly of Zoro.  The man, unfortunately, really did have to fly out fairly often for a few weeks at a time.  Zoro certainly did everything he could to make sure Sanji remembered him in his absence, though; he’d hid a few sweet little notes around Sanji’s apartment for him to find, which was really, really fucking cute.  He’d also fucked Sanji halfway to death in the hours of the early morning before departing.  He felt Zoro in the pleasant ache in his lower back and ass for a day or two.

Usopp had started growing a couple plants along the back windows of the restaurant in hanging pots.  The ingredients were much too small to really be used in their dishes but taking care of them was something all of the staff seemed to enjoy, including him.  Sanji checked on them as he passed by, rubbing his thumb along a soft leaf of a mint sprig and raising his thumb to his nose for a sniff.  

It smelled nice…like Zoro did, earthy and fresh. He wondered what Zoro was up to a few countries away.  They had a video call date planned for that evening.  He couldn’t wait.  

“Chef Black,” came a voice from the next room, “Can I get your thoughts on this sauce?”

“Coming!” Sanji called, shaking himself out of it. 

GrandLineCeleb 

Zoro Roronoa and ‘Pirate Chef’ Sanji Black Reunite at SKYP Airport

The paparazzi photos are high-quality from an expensive camera and detail Sanji Black waiting outside customs and security check.  In the first photo he’s waiting there, hands tucked into the pockets of a long trenchcoat that’s cinched tightly at the waist.  His long hair is pulled back into a ponytail and he looks anxious.  

The next series of photos are of his face transforming as he sees Zoro, the worried frown turning into a bright smile.  Then are many more pictures of Zoro, holding a heavy duffel effortlessly in one muscular arm, a dark-haired young man just behind juggling four rolling suitcases.  He’s grinning at Black, and when he is free of airline security and staff he sweeps Black up into a hug, lifting him off the ground.  They kiss, and the photo the pap snapped shows the way Black’s hands twist in Zoro’s hair and how Zoro’s arms bulge from how tightly he’s holding Black.  

They hold hands and exchange a few words, Zoro waves to a few fans waiting at the gates to see him, and they are escorted out by Zoro’s bodyguard quickly to a waiting car.  

LetUGo2Day: THEY ARE SO CUTE I KNOW ZORO REALLY MISSED HIM!!!!

pINaPpLeBlonde: I really like pirate chef’s style.  The heels on those boots! And the coat looks kinda like a dress. Hes just style goals keke

andr01Dvv: I can’t believe they’re kissing like that in front of everybody? Keep the gay stuff AT HOME. 

whywhybywhy: I wish people could just let them reunite in peace without all the pics?? Seems like they don’t care anyway.  Good for them!

Video posted on youtube by Roronoa Zoro:

“Hey guys,” Zoro says, the camera static on a table somewhere, likely a tripod.  He is dressed in a soft white t-shirt and his skin seems extra tanned lately, likely from his recent stint filming abroad in the sun for his new movie.  The feed shows Zoro standing in front of a stove with a small collection of pans and ingredients on the counter beside him.  

“I thought I’d re-do my eggs and rice video,” Zoro says.  “Take two, y’know.  I’ve been learning some stuff.  Sometimes against my will, but whatever.” He laughs a little, grinning over the camera at someone offscreen.  “Anyway,” he says, “Eggs and rice!  Lemme show you my new favorite kitchen gadget.”  

The camera moves as Zoro picks up the tripod and he sets it down on a different place on the counter, this time in front of a rice cooker.  

“I’ve gotten pretty good with this,” Zoro says.  “It’s been like… what, five months since I got it?  I’ve made a lot of rice.  I even add stuff to the water every now and again to flavor it, but I like it plain best.”  

Zoro walks viewers through measuring, rinsing (at a pointed throat clearing offscreen he reiterates how important it is to do this part), and proudly pushes the button to start the rice.  

Someone else holds the camera, then, following Zoro to the fridge for eggs and back.  Zoro cracks them carefully, but one breaks a bit and some shell falls into the bowl.  Zoro reaches in to grab it with his fingers, but then—

“Oi. ” 

—Zoro says, “Oh yeah,” and fishes it out with the rest of the eggshell, saying it’s easy to do it that way.  

As the eggs cook Zoro reaches twice for the wrong bottle or spice but that soft, deep voice offscreen gently corrects him, and Zoro is back on track.  The final presentation isn’t gorgeous, but it’s not half bad, warm steam wafting up towards the camera.  Zoro shovels a huge amount of it into his face, cheeks bulging and wrinkles around his eyes deep with happiness, and he grunts out an appreciative mmmh!  

His boyfriend, Pirate Chef, from that meme like half a year ago, comes into frame briefly to smile and flash a thumbs-up.  

“Next video,” Zoro declares, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Onigiri.”

@MrPrinceSB: I’ve found a true kindred spirit in tea appreciation.  @SoulKingBrook 

[the attached photo is a selfie of Sanji and Soul King Brook sitting together at a small table with a dainty lace tablecloth on top.  The lights are low and there’s a candle in the middle, and the edge of one of the Soul King’s concert photos can be seen on the back wall.  They are both smiling and raising teacups, although Brook’s is a little blurry; his hands shake some in his old age, but his guitar playing remains as good as ever.]

🗨️ 4  🔁 1  ❤️ 37

@Roronoa: @MrPrinceSB @SoulKingBrook tea is gross.  Come back already. And can you grab a beer from the fridge on your way in? I’m lying down

@MrPrinceSB: @Roronoa fuck off

carne_vale

  [on instagram, the photo is a badly-lit selfie of a middle-aged man grimacing. He’s sweaty and has a limp hairnet on his head.]

Listening to my boss yell at his kid on the phone again…… so sick of hearing about how he hasn’t met his boyfriend yet, lol

Liked by patty32 and 2 others

carne_vale

[this photo is exceptionally shitty and blurry but the reddened, screaming face of a blond man can still be seen.  He’s wringing a huge chef’s hat between his hands and facetiming someone.]

Looooooooool chef zeff is soooo pisseddddd he wants to meet roronoa sooooo bad haha

Liked by MrPrinceSB, patty32 and 1 other

carne_vale                                                     LIVE    4 👁️

“Ssssh,” Carne hisses into his phone, “Check it out.  Zeff’ll have my head if he hears me but look…”  

The camera is inched slowly around a corner, and with a tap Carne focuses its lens on a private table at a restaurant.  It’s the B.A.R.A.T.I.E, as any of Carne’s 17 followers that are not spam bots would know.  Zeff, its owner, is sitting stone-still and staring across the table at a man who is presumably Roronoa Zoro, because Zeff’s son is nervously flapping his hands and talking a mile a minute about something.  

“It’s so awkward,” Carne whispers.  “Zeff is being extra scary I think.  It’s their first time meeting. He’s real protective over Sanji sometimes.  Sanji is so stressed, it’s hilarious.”

Carne zooms in just in time to see their drinks be delivered, and Sanji drains his whole glass of wine in one massive chug, and is then scolded by his father.  The man is pushing eighty but still can be formidable. 

Zoro laughs then, loud and obnoxious, making a crack about the look on Sanji’s face, and then Zeff joins in too.  Sanji grits out something too quiet to hear.  

“I think they’re getting along okay,” Carne muses, and then turns the camera back around.  He flashes a thumbs-up at the screen, bids his four viewers goodbye, and ends the stream.

“Hey, Zoro?”

No answer.  Sanji pulls his head out of the washing machine, adds the detergent and sets the thing, and wanders towards the living room. “Zoro?”

Zoro still does not respond, and Sanji can see why—he’s frowning hard at the script for Shimotsuki, the film he had been unable to shut up about for weeks now.  Sanji could understand how much the lead role would mean to Zoro, a historical samurai film with a massive budget. 

He was going to ask if Zoro had seen a sweater of his, but it could wait.  

Sanji busied himself in the kitchen for awhile, giving Zoro space as he fixed him one of his favorite dishes for dinner.  And then, when it was done and steaming and he’d judged Zoro had studied for long enough, he draped over the back of the couch and dropped a kiss to the top of his favorite green head.  

“Hey,” Sanji murmured, “You good to take a break? Dinner’s ready.”

“Sure,” Zoro said, blinking hard at the room, like it had just reappeared in front of him. He stretched out a crick in his neck and then craned it up and back, a clear invitation for another kiss. 

Sanji couldn’t help but oblige him.  He stroked a thumb down Zoro’s cheek and gave him a gentle, soft smooch upside-down. 

“The lines are good,” Zoro said, licking his lips afterward to get every last atom of Sanji’s taste.  “Genuinely.  They did their research.”

“Good.  Want to practice some lines as you eat?”

“Only if you don’t mind seeing my half-chewed food.”

Sanji made a face but acquiesced, of course. 

Zou Magazine, Online Celeb Gossip Corner

Written by Pekoms L.

"It’s that time again kitty cats! Here’s our weekend roundup of celebrity scandals, gossip, and shenanigans.  

First up this week is Ace Portgas, of dreamy pop fame (we all had Flames of Love on repeat last summer!) having a wild night out on the town with… you never would have guessed it, Zoro Roronoa’s beau, Sanji Black.  Now, as you can see from the photos here, they were pretty drunk, and I’m not against celebrities drinking, of course, but when you’re dancing in public and hanging off each other at bars, you have to remember you’re a public figure, eh???

For what it’s worth, the two of them seem close.  Awfully close, right? Too close, maybe?

Sharp-minded kitty cats will remember when Zoro Roronoa himself was outed after being photographed kissing Ace Portgas at Foxfire Kinemon’s birthday bash (pictures below).  

So here’s the question:  Are Sanji Black and Ace Portgas involved?  Or are they just friends?

Are Zoro Roronoa and Ace Portgas still involved behind the scenes? Are all three of them together?

Weigh in below, kittens!

Next on our list is Kanjuro Kurozumi, who, it turns out, has been revealed to be lying about his involvement in the theater adaptation of…"

Water 7 Times

Written by Paulie L.

Attempted Robbery Stopped by Good Samaritan 

A shopper at the upscale winery Amazon Lily foiled a would-be-robbery this afternoon.  Guillaume Lafitte, mugshot below, entered the winery’s sales area around 12:32 pm, armed with a Glock 21.  After approaching the cashier, he displayed his gun and written demands for cash.  At 12:34pm, an unnamed shopper approached from an aisle and knocked out Lafitte with a roundhouse kick.  

According to a source close to the situation, there were no injuries.  Lafitte was arrested after regaining consciousness by Water 7 Police.  

CCTV footage of the incident is below.

Flipthat3: damn that’s scary, I’ve been to that winery before.

OddEyes: what is the world coming to……

S0What1: WAIT A SECOND.  Is that.  Is that fucking PIRATE CHEF????

oRiTe: From that meme?  Lmao I thin kit is him! Hahahahaahalmaooooo

Buzzfeed

Remember Pirate Chef?  He’s Gone Viral Again! Here’s 10 Photos to Show What He’s Been Up to Lately

We all remember Pirate Chef’s epic take-down of paparazzi earlier this year. We stan!

1. [The picture is a freeze frame of Pirate Chef kicking a robber at a winery in the head.]

2. [The picture is of Pirate Chef smiling bashfully as he accepts a bouquet of flowers from the owner of said winery.]

3. [The picture is from Roronoa Zoro’s instagram, where Pirate Chef is smiling widely beside him at a restaurant.]

4. [The picture is of Pirate Chef and musician Ace Portgas flashing peace signs over glittery, large font that reads Besties.]

5, 6, 7. [The next three pictures are a series of photos of Pirate Chef working at his restaurant, looking professional and dapper.  These are promotional images taken off of Le Tout Bleu’s website.]

8. [The picture is from Pirate Chef’s twitter account, where Roronoa Zoro is asleep on a couch with a movie script over his face to block out the light. Pirate Chef’s hand is positioned so that no one can read the name of the upcoming movie.  He looks terribly fond.]

9. [The picture is of Soul King Brook and Pirate Chef enjoying cups of tea.]

10. [The GIF is of Guillaume Lafitte’s mugshot, overlaid with the new meme format of Pirate Chef’s leg coming out of nowhere to kick someone’s lights out.]

Roronoa_Z                                                     LIVE    371.3k 👁️

“So,” Zoro was saying, “I have some good news.”

The video is a bit pixelated from unstable connections, and Zoro waits for a moment before announcing said good news. His eyes flick around, reading comments and smiling at some of them.  When he’s ready, he continues: “I got the role you all somehow knew I was trying out for. You’re looking at the handsome face of Sanada Toshizo.”

All of Zoro’s viewers know this, of course, because the press release for the movie Shimotsuki had come out 15 minutes before, but Zoro’s energy is still infectious.  He’s grinning, thanking people in the comments, and then the screen blurs as he moves.  He comes to rest beside his boyfriend, Pirate Chef, from those memes recently, and Sanji looks like he’s been crying.  

He rubs his swollen eyes with his knuckles, smudging his light makeup, and sniffles as he says, “I don’t need to be on camera right now, Marimo.” 

“Yeah, yeah.  Aren't they cute?” Zoro answers, kissing Sanji’s damp cheek before taking the phone with him as he moves on.  “We’ve already started some practice script readings.  No, I can’t give any spoilers.  Yes, I’m gonna use swords. No, I’m not going to tell you who the other cast members are, you gotta wait for the official news.  Yes, we celebrated.  The Cook and I stayed on a cruise ship, actually, a couple weeks ago. Just for a few days.”

Zoro keeps up a steady stream of chatter about his excitement for the casting. Everyone who’s followed him for any amount of time knows his love of samurai movies and for genuine ass-kicking action.  For Zoro, this very well might be the defining role of his career, and it’s hard not to be excited along with him.  

In the background, Sanji calls, “You all better buy tickets when it comes out!”

Behind the shelf of doohickeys and gadgets (mostly keychains) at the local convenience store was the shelf of refrigerated pre-cooked burgers (Franky had tried them all).  Behind that shelf was the wall of colas and pops and sodas and the like (he’d also tried most of those).  Behind that was a tiny rack of magazines, squished between the change consolidator bin and the self-serve nacho stand.

And on it, Franky caught just a glimpse of two of his friends on the cover before the whole thing became obscured by huge, wet, happy tears.  

“Robinnn,” Franky wailed, immediately burying his face in his hands,  “Iceburg! Come here!!” 

Soon enough, his wife curled around one of his arms and she pet his back and shoulders in the way that always soothed him as Iceburg picked up the magazine.  

“They’re so—They—they’re so super happy,” Franky choked out. 

Zoro and Sanji looked it.  The cover photo was of the two of them, dressed to the nines.  Where Zoro’s suit was more traditional, masculine and imposing, Sanji’s had a cool corset thing that accentuated his waist and long legs, as did his bare ankles and expensive shoes.  Sanji was serving face, too, staring down the camera like he was about to kick it to pieces.  

One of Zoro’s hands was in his pocket and the other rested casually on the sword at his hip.  His chest was busting out of the tight button-up under the suit jacket.  The dude looked stacked - what a super workout routine! 

THE POWER DUO, read the headline, with the subheading: Zoro Roronoa and everyone’s favorite crime-fighting Chef are taking on the world.

Despite dating for only about a year now, the two were doing so well. The cover of a magazine, who would have thought!

“I want,” Franky got out between wet hiccups, “to buy two copies!”

“Sure, sure,” Iceberg said, grabbing them along with some extra chips, as Robin pressed a warm smiling kiss against his cheek. 

“Thank you for finding the time to meet with me, I really appreciate it!”

Coby sat too stiffly, too anxiously, and too eagerly, he knew, but interviews had never been his strong suit.  His heart was somewhere in his throat and he felt sick, but the big guy across the desk from him seemed utterly unaffected and had the entire interview so far.  

“‘Course,” Mr. Garp said, flipping through his resume.  He almost looked bored.  “Tell me more about this, uh, Pirate Chef thing?”

“Yes, Sir!”  Coby pulled out his folder, stuffed with all the graphs he’d made showcasing his work with Le Tout Bleu and how their social media engagement had changed while he’d been in charge. 

“Okay, so my old boss got involved in an altercation with paparazzi that went viral, and I capitalized on that…”

Robin had helped him with his presentation, happy to help one of her favorite ex-employees.  He had news articles about the original incident, and printouts of some of the tweets and other social media posts he’d made at the time, and lists of numbers from Robin about the restaurant’s finances directly after the incident.

Basically, he’d fucking crushed it back then, even Chef Black had said so!  

Mr. Garp asked good questions, pushing him, and Coby answered him as best he could.  His fondness for his time at the restaurant bubbled out of him; he and Usopp still kept in touch, and Sanji always gave them half-off meals when they came.  It had been a good job.

But he was graduated and looking to move to the big leagues now, and Garp was the guy to get him there.  

“We’ll be in touch,” Garp told him at the end of the interview.  Coby stood on shaky legs, gathered all his papers and charts, and shook the man’s huge hand.  

“Thank you,” Coby repeated.  “I look forward to hearing from you.”

In the doorway, he turned around and looked back.  Mr. Garp gave him a huge, wide grin and a thumbs-up.

Feeling better, Coby left the building.

Grand Line National News

Written by B.N. Morgans

Zoro Roronoa Injured on Shimotsuki Set

Early reports out of Wano say that actor Roronoa Zoro has been injured while filming for upcoming film Shimotsuki .  Emergency Services were called to the site around 11:30 am.  One anonymous source disclosed that paramedics were sent to respond to a “deep cut injury, possibly from a blade.”

Wano County Police announced in a press statement moments ago, “ An adult male was injured while filming a scene for a film. First responders arrived swiftly, and at this time the male is alive. We do not believe the injuries to be life-threatening.”

More on this story as information arrives. 

@B.A.R.A.T.I.E: Sending much love and quick healing to @Roronoa.  

@Purrrrona: LOVE YOU Zoro!! Hang in there, you are so strong!  Keep him in your thoughts, Ghosties! 

@DMihawk: Thinking of you, @Roronoa.

@SoulKingBrook: My dear friend Zoro.  This has been a scary time.  Not having answers is always the hardest part.  I look forward to enjoying an evening with you again soon. 

@yunAB: @Roronoa omg Zoro I’m so worried, the news just said ‘cut with a blade’ omg  🙏

@0cT019: @Roronoa  🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

@artemisia12: I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS

@fru1t5at: nooooo Zoro’s too sexy to dieeeeee

@quirkydeer56: well maybe if Zoro stanned The Lunarians he wouldn’t be bleeding out in an ambulance somewhere lmfaoooo

@adamandyves: @quirkydeer56 how fucking dare u

@gogothewon: I cant stop crying im so scared for zoro 🙏

Posted about fifteen hours after the news drops, and after all the well-wishes, @MrPrinceSB posts a photo of him in a hospital room beside Zoro, who is hooked up to a variety of tubes and instruments and whose one eye and the side of his head is entirely wrapped in bandages.  It doesn’t look good.  

Zoro is sticking out the middle finger towards the camera, though, and Sanji is laughing despite looking tired as hell.  

He’ll be okay, is the caption. Merci tout le monde.

Abruptly moving to Japan hadn’t been in their plans for the winter, but here they were.  Zoro’s seaside home here was a wondrous thing, but they’d hardly had the occasion to use it.  

The home nurse who was staying in one of the guest rooms for a couple weeks was pleasant enough, and skilled as all hell.  Furiko changed Zoro’s bandages and was helping him adjust to having vision in only one eye.  Some things had to be re-learned all over again, all kinds of stuff with balance and depth perception.  

There was so much.  

With Zoro’s bizarre sense of humor, he’d elected to keep what remained of his eye in a pickled jar by the bedside.  The reasoning had been some sort of macho shit Sanji didn’t care for.  As far as he was concerned, Zoro was keeping it as a reminder of his failure or some shit, like if he had been a better dodger, or better with the blade, he wouldn’t have lost his eye.  

It made Sanji feel fucking useless, cooking lunch in the kitchen of this large, beautiful home, with his boyfriend asleep upstairs resting and recovering from his traumatic accident barely a week and a half ago. 

He stared into the depths of the scrambled eggs in his bowl, feeling tears prick at his eyes.  

He couldn’t cook Zoro some magic dish to take all this physical ache away, let alone all the emotional stuff he was going through.  He acted tough, like it didn’t bother him, but… 

A soft touch at his elbow pulled him out of it.   

“Oh,” Sanji huffed, wiping at one eye,  “Kuina-san.  Ohayou gozaimasu, I, um, ah—hungry, my flower? Onaka?”  He rubbed at his stomach and tried to smile.

Kuina shook her head and pointed to his eyes.  

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he answered, waving her away.  She muttered something in Japanese and reached for the tablet they’d been keeping close by for translation.  She typed quickly and when she turned it around it read: Zoro will be okay. He is tough. You need to care for yourself. 

“A-Arigatou, my dear,” Sanji said, lips trembling and his throat thick, “But I’m fine, really.”  He jabbed at the tablet, translating Do not worry.  

Kuina seemed unamused. As Zoro’s oldest friend, and a fellow actor here, she knew Zoro well.  She’d been looking after him and Sanji too in what ways she could.  Having her nearby helped Sanji, who spoke little of the language and needed time to adjust to all the changes, and helped Zoro see another friendly face.  

Kuina pushed him towards the stairs and to Zoro’s room. Sanji resisted, protesting about his half-cooked lunch, but she dug in her heels and pushed him harder.  So strong! 

The sliding door to their master bedroom opened soundlessly.  Sanji’s tiny sniffles were full-blown stifled cries now though, seeing the bloody bandages from a recent change in the trash and Zoro lying there, looking small in the bed.  

Then Zoro picked up his head (he was supposed to be asleep).  

“Sanji?” he asked, reaching out with one hand.  

“M-Marimo,” Sanji grit out, helpless not to approach.  “I’m sorry if I woke you up, I just—”

He was trying to be strong for Zoro, he wasn’t even the one injured, so why was he the one crying!?

“No, no,” Zoro said.  There were more white hairs at his temples than ever, streaking through the brown dye-job for the film, as if this incident had aged him a year.  “Come here, baby, ssh.”

Sanji crawled into bed next to his boyfriend, curled up beside him, and wept into his shoulder.  

Zoro rubbed his back, soft and silent, until Sanji laid there silently beside him, spent.  

When Sanji took a deep breath to apologize, Zoro murmured, “No, stop it.  Don’t be.  You’ve been holding that in for my sake, huh?”

“I’m just—” Sanji pressed desperate kisses to Zoro’s shoulder.  “I was just so scared.  And it’s hard, seeing you here and knowing you’re hurting when I can’t even help—”

“You help a lot,” Zoro protested, and then said his name for a second time.  “Sanji.  You came home with me.  I don’t know how I’d do this without you.  I mean that.”

Sanji curled up tighter against the other man.  “Of course I did,” he whispered.  “Anywhere.”  

“But it’s not like it’s easy on you,” Zoro said in a rush.  “‘Cause of me you’re away from your restaurant, stuck here waiting for my ass to get out of bed, and—”

“What?”  

Sanji propped himself up on his arms to peer down at Zoro.  He was on Zoro’s blind side, and he moved to straddle Zoro’s hips so Zoro could see him straight-on.  

“Zoro, you could have died,” Sanji rasped, “Do not worry about me. I’m the last thing you should be thinking about!”

“And I’m telling you that you’re all I think about!  I don’t want you worrying about me, I’ll be fine!”

“Of course I’m going to fucking worry, your fucking eyeball is in a jar over there—”

“I know it is,” Zoro hissed, “How the hell could I forget?  Every other second my brain tries to open my left eye but it’s not there anymore ‘cause I fucked up , you think I could forget something like that?”

“Stop saying you fucked up! It was an accident, Daz shouldn’t have gotten that blade anywhere near your face and we all know it—”

“—But there was something I could have done—”

“—No there wasn’t, you asshole, it’s not your fault—”

Zoro opened his mouth to respond, then bit his lip.  One fat, salty tear worked its way down his unbandaged cheek.  

Sanji wiped at his own eyes.  “I’m sorry for yelling,” he got out.

Zoro couldn’t speak.  Sanji had never seen the guy cry, not even once since the accident.  Sanji cradled him, tucking Zoro’s head carefully into Sanji’s shoulder. 

Later, when Zoro was feeling like talking again, he said quietly, into Sanji’s collarbone, “What if this is the end of my acting career?”

Sanji said nothing.

“I’m going to have a scar on my face from this.  I’m missing an eye, Curly.  If anything, I’ll get typecast as villains or scary losers.  And what about modeling?  I’m gonna be that actor that lost an eye.”  

“You’re going to finish out Shimotsuki, ” Sanji said firmly.  “We can’t know what’s ahead for you, but we do know the cast of Shimotsuki won’t drop you.  The pause on filming is, what, at least five months? And more if you need more recovery time? They love you, Zoro, and so do lots of other people you’ve worked with.  Prove to everyone else through this film that you’re not going anywhere.”  

“...Alright,” Zoro said softly.  “I will.” 

Luffy’s temporary home was just a couple minutes’ drive away. He spent a lot of time at Zoro’s house with Sanji and Kuina, but with Zoro still mostly housebound, there wasn’t a whole lot of bodyguarding to do.  There had been a couple curious news reporters who tried to approach in that first week in Japan, but Luffy had scared them all away.  

Luffy was another bright spot for Sanji here in Japan.  He got along famously with Kuina despite the language barrier and the two of them even managed to pull Sanji away from the house sometimes, where all he wanted to do was fuss over Zoro (or “suffocate,” as Luffy had put it). 

The food was exquisite, of course.  Living on the ocean meant fresh seafood was everywhere, just like at Le Tout Bleu.  Sanji tried a large variety of fish, cooked and raw, over warm rice or in noodle dishes.  Zoro couldn’t drink for the time being because of all his pain medications and whatnot, so Sanji got good at brewing all kinds of Japanese teas.  

And although he was getting used to this painful pause in their lives, he couldn’t help but often think of home.  

“We’ve got it,” Robin told him on the phone one day, as Sanji walked alongside the coast, shivering and wrapping his winter coat tightly around himself.  “You know we do.  Everyone is doing their jobs.  The only thing you should be worrying about is yourself, okay?”

“...Okay, my flower.  I’m sorry I’m bothering you with this.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, Sanji.  How is Zoro?”

Sanji stared out at the bleak, gray ocean.  “He’s alright.  He acts tough, but… obviously it’s bothering him, beyond the actual pain.  Sometimes he gets upset, or lashes out a little at me or Kuina or Furiko.”

“I guess that’s to be expected, to some degree.  He needs time.”

“Yeah.  It’s frustrating there’s not more I can do for him… but we’ll be okay.”

They chatted a bit more about the restaurant, and then Sanji bade Robin goodbye, hurrying back up the sandy dunes to Zoro’s house.  Furiko had gone out to the store, but Luffy was over, and Zoro had been napping when Sanji went outside—

— “Merde!”

There was Zoro, relaxing on the couch next to Luffy and Kuina, and for the first time without any bandages.

Sanji awkwardly moved his hands that had been clutching at his heart, but it was too late. All three of them had seen his reaction.  

Zoro burst out laughing, and then the other two did too.  

“Shut up!” Sanji said, shedding his heavy coat, scarf, and boots in the genkan before hurrying deeper inside to go right to his boyfriend.  He reached out, uncertain, and Zoro grabbed both his hands and drew them to his shoulders.  

“Not too ugly for you, am I?” Zoro asked.  His tone was joking, but Sanji vehemently shook his head.  

“No, no, never,” Sanji insisted.  The scar was frightening, though.  It was red and angry, still shiny and looking like it could split and leak if Zoro smiled too wide.  It bisected where his eye used to be, going through his eyebrow and halfway up his forehead, and halfway down his cheek.  

“You’re so damn handsome,” Sanji gushed, relieved beyond belief to see Zoro’s whole face again.  “Your face—I’m just so happy—gah!”  He wanted to stroke Zoro’s face with his hands and cradle his cheeks and kiss him, but he couldn’t until he was more healed.

Zoro gave him a soft smile.  “I am too.”

Beside them, Kuina said something, and Sanji could tell from Zoro’s reaction that it had been along the lines of get a room. 

“After filming’s done we can come back,” Zoro said from the doorway, watching Sanji roll around on his bed with a grin.  “I’m glad you liked Japan so much.”

“Maybe our honeymoon could be somewhere in Japan,” Sanji mused up at the ceiling.  He then went pink.  “I mean—let’s just forget I said that.  Are you all packed?”

“Yeah,” Zoro drawled, “Are you?”

“Unfortunately.  I want to go home and see everyone, but it’s been so lovely here.  The cherry blossoms are beautiful.”

Zoro came over to the bed, reached out his arms, and he hauled Sanji to his feet.  Then he ducked his head and gave Sanji a warm kiss.  “They are pretty beautiful.  We’ll come back.  Promise.”

“Okay.”  Sanji smiled at the handsome man in his arms.  The scar wasn’t as angry red as it used to be, fading into a softer pink. The glass prosthetic he’d been fitted for wasn’t in right now, but Zoro had gotten used to keeping the empty socket’s eyelid shut.  

“Kuina-saaan,” Sanji called once he was downstairs, going noodly-armed and trying to get Kuina to hug him goodbye, “Sayonara! Daisuke, daisuke, daisuke~!”

She shoved him away, muttered something that made Zoro laugh loudly, and then drew Sanji in for a quick little hug.  Sanji adored her.  Luffy was already in the car with all their shit.  Furiko had stopped caring for Zoro a couple weeks back.  

“Let’s go home!” Luffy hollered from outside.  

Sanji left the house so Zoro and Kuina could have a private goodbye, taking in the house, the sea, and the smells of spring. They’d be back!

GrandLineCeleb

Roronoa Zoro Returns from Japan After on-set Shimotsuki Accident

The set of official photos show Zoro at the Skypeia Airport looking healthy and the same as always, despite the big black eyepatch over one eye. The edges of a long scar can be seen just above and below it.  He’s smiling though, waving at a few fans who waited at the airport.  Beside him is Sanji Black, his boyfriend, looking tired from the flight but happy to be back in town.  Their hands are held comfortably between them. 

Roronoa Zoro Leaves Again for Wano to Complete Shimotsuki Filming

Just a week after returning from Japan, Zoro is back at the airport.  His eyepatch is in place again and he’s laden with more bags, with his bodyguard close behind.  Sanji Black looks sadder in these photos compared to last week.  One photo shows the two men exchanging one last hug just outside security.  Black is murmuring something into Zoro’s ear.  The next photo shows an older man pulling Zoro in for a gruff hug, and then the two men wave Zoro off.  

The last picture in the set is the older man wrapping an arm around Sanji’s shoulders.  It’s Sanji’s father; the resemblance is clear when they’re both facing the camera.  Sanji looks like he misses Zoro already. 

Roronoa_Z                                                     LIVE    402.1k 👁️

“For those of you who just joined us,” Zoro was saying, “Mihawk’s here.  Say hi, Mihawk.”

Mihawk barely looks up from his book.  He grunts.

“Gotta love Mihawk,” Zoro says with a grin.  “Nah, he’s not in Shimotsuki, he’s just here for a few days.  I guess ‘cause he missed me.  I was in Japan for three months, after all, everyone’s gotta get their Zoro fix.”

Behind Zoro, Mihawk rolls his eyes.  

The camera moves then as Zoro carries it across the room to a chair.  His eye flicks back and forth as he reads comments.  

“No,” he says, answering one, “They’re not going to CGI the scar out.”  The eyepatch is gone, and Zoro’s injured eye has been shut the entirety of the live.  “Pretty cool, right?  Luckily all the filming from the early part of the film is done.  I have a fake eye, but honestly, it kinda hurts after a while.  I don’t love it.  Usually just go, uh, empty.  Ha, you think it’s handsome?  Thanks.  Wait.”

The commenter who had called it handsome was MrPrinceSB though, and Zoro’s grin goes huge.  

“Hey, baby,” he says, “Didn’t realize you were watching the live.” The chat goes wild with people saying hello to Sanji.  

MrPrinceSB: hi everyone

MrPrinceSB: I miss u Zoro

“Aw. I miss you too. And before you ask, yes, I’ve been eating well.  Ask Mihawk; he treated me to dinner last night.”

MrPrinceSB: glad to hear it

Zoro chats with Sanji a bit more, humoring some questions about their relationship, but then Sanji’s break at work is evidently over.  

“Alright, everyone say goodbye to Sanji, they’ve got to go. Bye Sanji.”  He waits a beat, then says, as if to himself, “Ugh, I love him.  Anyway—what was I talking about before? Yeah, the CGI.  Well, as you guys know, there really isn’t a lot of it in this film.  That’s what got me into my accident in the first place! But also…”

They’d talked about it extensively in Japan, the moving-in-together thing.  They’d been together for almost two years at this point, and it had been nice being together in Zoro’s house in Japan, even with everything else going on.  

So even though Zoro was still in Wano, they’d discussed it some more and that had led to today, with Sanji tipping the moving company he’d hired and sending them off from Zoro’s expensive building.  

Behind him, there was the soft sound of a spoon on ceramic.  Brook was Sanji’s neighbor across the hall now too.  

Even though he was much too frail in his old age to lift heavy boxes, Brook had been a funny commentator through the move.  He drank his tea and watched as Sanji started unboxing some of his kitchen gadgets and special knives.  

“I’m so happy for you both, you know,” Brook said.  “Love, new changes in life—it’s worth celebrating.”

“Thanks, Brook,” Sanji said, giving the old man a smile.  “When you first met me, did you think I’d make it all the way here?”

That gave Brook pause.  “...Maybe not right away,” he hummed.  “Zoro was pretty sweet on you from the beginning, but I thought it might have been a brief infatuation.”

“Yeah.” Sanji nodded as he carefully unwrapped delicate china.  “Me too.” 

“But look at you now! Yohoho!” 

“Things with Zoro are good.  I’m glad.”

“Treasure that, Sanji,” Brook advised after a delicate sip of tea.  “I never married, but I had some women in my life who were precious to me.  And at my age… I’ve seen many friends pass on.” 

Sobering, Sanji thought of Zeff.  His dad was in his seventies.  And he could have lost Zoro in the accident with the swords, and filming wasn’t even over yet…

“You used to be in a band, right Brook?”

“Yes!” Brook set his shaking teacup down. “Before I went solo, my three best friends and I formed Hazard, and let me tell you, we took over.”  His smile waned a little.  “I’m old, Sanji—those three passed over a decade ago.  It’s a shame, the way the band broke up and all, but those were some precious memories, I’ll tell ya that.  When four Black men were the star of the award season back then, yohoho, the drama!  Not everyone was happy about that, for sure.”

What a life his new neighbor had led.  Sanji coaxed out more stories of Brook’s old band as he kept unpacking. 

“Speaking of,” Brook mused, “the spring Music Awards are next month.  I would have loved to bring any of them along, or my last girlfriend.”  He looked sad for a moment, then: “But that’s okay! I’ve gone stag to red carpets before, and I’ll do it again.” 

“I’m sure you’ll have a good time regardless,” Sanji reasoned.  He’d seen Brook all dressed up before; the guy really knew how to work a suit.  Zoro could learn a thing or two.  Although he was bone-tired from the move, he hauled himself to a stack of boxes in the corner of the kitchen with more plates, bent down, and lifted it.  

Behind him, Brook wheezed.  

Concerned, Sanji put the box back down quickly and turned, only to find the perverted old man staring at where the edge of Sanji’s panties were visible as his shirt had lifted up, and the strip of skin just above them.  

“Sanji,” Brook said, once his coughing fit had subsided.  “Would you mind being my date for the awards next month?  And… could I see your panties?”

Buzzfeed

Sanji “Pirate Chef” Black Goes Viral yet Again – This Time on the Red Carpet with Soul King Brook

Everyone’s favorite chef always delivers the laughs, this time with an unexpected companion. 

[The meme of Sanji this time, which ends up becoming the template of many sub-variations in the weeks that follow, happens when he is arm-in-arm with Soul King Brook on the red carpet.  They both look outstanding, and they end up on the best-dressed lists that come out later that night.  The hiccup in the night happens, though, when Brook is being interviewed by Alvida of the Buggy Group.  Sanji wasn’t saying much the whole evening, mostly smiling and being very pretty eye candy on Brook’s arm.  The guy is a legend in the music industry, and people let him get away with some out of pocket shit, but when Brook asks Alvida, on camera on live television, if he can see her panties, Sanji jumps like he’s been electrocuted, and then whirls around with an absolute griefstricken look on his face, his eyes popping out of his head.  

Then Sanji yells at Brook in front of everyone and apologizes profusely to Alvida, clearly trying to avoid a scandal (but in reality his hilarious reaction had caused way more engagement with Brook’s casual sexual harassment than if he had politely laughed it off like people, unfortunately, sometimes did with the old man).  

@Roronoa: I’m fucking dying. [Sanji reaction gif] 

@Roronoa: me when I haven’t seen pirate chef in two months cause of filming [Sanji reaction gif]

@CobySword: when a meme of your old boss makes the rounds again but you’re too swamped with work for your new job to enjoy it fully [Sanji reaction gif] 

@UStar45: a customer just asked me to check ‘in the back’ [Sanji reaction gif]

@B.A.R.A.T.I.E: when a plate of food is returned 90% eaten [Sanji reaction gif] 

@lunarpenguin: i’m totally pirate chef when my little sister uses my makeup without asking [Sanji reaction gif]

@MrPrinceSB: I’m never going anywhere with @SoulKingBrook again [Sanji reaction gif]

His staff were being weird.  Kiku, of all people, kept interrupting what he was doing with new questions: Chef, can you check this, please? Chef, there is a discrepancy with this inventory sheet.  Chef, the cake isn’t rising.

Normally Kiku was cool as a cucumber and entirely self-directed.  Sanji didn’t mind helping her, of course, but he couldn’t help but notice that there was an awful lot of staff just standing around.  And wasn’t Carrot off today?  Yet here she was, chatting with Helmeppo in the empty dining room (they didn’t open for another hour).  

He’d gotten a text that morning that his dad was going to stop by for lunch—surprise, surprise.  So now he was trying to whip up a dish that would please his father while also trying to get his strangely packed kitchen into working order.  

Robin had confiscated his phone as soon as he got in a couple hours back for some reason, saying she was going to post something to social media.  He didn’t really care and certainly had better things to do.  

“—Seems like he landed an hour ago—” Sanji caught briefly as he passed by his office, and then he backtracked.  

“Usopp?” he asked.  

His office was full of people who had not been there last time he checked: Usopp, Coby, Franky, Robin, Kiku’s brother Izo, and a couple ex-employees who had retired or moved on to other careers.  

“Oh! HEY Chef,” Usopp said, looking nervously left and right.  

“What’s going on?” Sanji asked, looking at the sea of faces, none of whom looked back at him.  

“Chef!” Kiku called from the kitchen.  “Come here, please!”

“Coming, my flower!” Sanji called, and hotfooted it back to his best chef.  He was far too busy to really focus on whatever weird thing was going on, finishing the menu for his father’s upcoming lunch.  But then, right as he popped a dish in the oven, Carrot came tearing into the kitchen, her hair in disarray.  

“Chef Black!” she cried, “Someone’s trying to break into the restaurant! He has Helmeppo!”

If he’d been holding a dish, he would have dropped it.  Kiku’s hands flew to her mouth, and everyone else gasped.  Sanji flew into action, pushing past frozen employees out to the dining area.  

The front doors were open, and a few feet out onto the sidewalk was Helmeppo, struggling as a tall man in a ski mask held him back with a forearm across his throat.  

“Get back, everyone,” Sanji heard himself say, looking at Helmeppo with something like tunnel vision.  “Carrot, did you see a gun?”

“No Chef,” Carrot sobbed, “But I saw a knife, he says he wants the money in the register—”

What the fuck, the register?  90% of their transactions were done with credit or debit card; they weren’t a cash-carrying hotspot or anything like that.  Still, Sanji approached with his hands up.

“Why don’t you let him go,” he said. The ski mask obscured the man’s face; all he could see was one angry eye.  Helmeppo was struggling hard.  “He’s just a kid,” Sanji continued, “Let him go and we’ll get you what you need from the register, alright?”

Fat chance of that.  As soon as Helmeppo was safe Sanji was going to kick the guy’s fucking lights out!  He’d fought someone with a knife before and he’d do it again.  So long as there wasn’t a gun, he’d be fine—as soon as his employee was out of danger.  

“Chef,” Helmeppo coughed out, being jostled this way and that, and the arm around his windpipe apparently drawing tighter.  “Help me!  You know how to fight!”

Well, there went the element of surprise.  He took a few steps forward, fully outside now, teeth gritted and anger pouring off of him in palpable waves.  Oh, he was going to fucking kill this guy.  

To his surprise, Helmeppo was roughly shoved to the side.  The kid coughed and ran behind Sanji back into the restaurant.  

Now it was just Sanji and him, and the knife in the man’s free hand.  He shifted his stance, and Sanji could read it—he was about to rush forward.  Sanji took a deep, long breath as he readied himself too. 

“Do you really think,” Sanji spat, each word a roundhouse kick, “That I’d let you walk away in one piece after scaring my staff?”

“Never,” the man answered simply, and the voice gave Sanji pause for just long enough that he didn’t react as the man reached up and pulled off the ski mask at the same time as he… got down on one knee.  

“Hey, Cook,” Zoro grinned, looking handsome and cocky as ever.  His hair was still brown from the filming, and he was flushed with exertion, and he tossed the knife away which didn’t make a sound as it skittered across the ground.  Rubber.  A movie prop.  

Sanji stood there and stared.  

“I first fell in love with you right here,” Zoro said, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, “When you kicked that guy’s ass in front of everybody.  I watched you do it from the table right there, and you were just—the most amazing thing I’d ever seen.  When you protect people you care about, you just get so—fuck, I rehearsed this, but I—I mean, you get so bright and fiery, I can hardly look at you.  I wanna see that for the rest of my life.  So, uh, Cook, will you marry me?”

The ring was a beautiful thing, but Sanji could hardly comprehend it.  Zoro waited there, beaming a watery, hopeful smile his way.

Sanji turned around.  All his staff and friends were crowded at the door and street-facing windows with their phones out. And right there, in the center of the doorway, with a big happy smile on his face, was his father.  

“You all set me up,” Sanji finally said, as feeling began to return to his hands and feet.  He felt dizzy, like he’d just held his breath for a full minute.  

“Yeah we did!” Helmeppo called from inside. 

Zeff called gruffly, “Answer that man of yours.”

Zoro’s eye scar was a healthy pink and would likely look that way for the rest of his life.  Sanji had missed it.  Had missed all of Zoro.  He wasn’t supposed to be home for another week, or at least that’s what Sanji had been told…!

“Say yes already, and then you can kick my ass,” Zoro said.  

Sanji stalked forward, even as his eyes burned, and raised his leg sky-high like he had with that miserable piece of shit from Perona’s fanclub.  Zoro just watched, his grin growing wider and wider as Sanji brought it down with enough force to knock him unconscious.  

It hit the ground by Zoro’s foot, and then Sanji collapsed to his knees to be on Zoro’s level.  “Of course, yes, idiot,” he sniffled, “Give me the fucking ring. I can’t believe you were going to stab Helmeppo, you’re not supposed to be here until next week, you scared me, I—”

Zoro just laughed over Sanji’s overwhelmed word-vomit and slid the ring on Sanji’s finger.  Behind them, Sanji’s staff and friends made happy noises, or clapped, or yelled out congratulations.  Sanji may have even heard Brook’s loud yohoho in there.  

Instead of kicking Zoro’s ass, Sanji hugged him.  Zoro’s warm, strong arms wrapped around him, and the man stood, easily hauling Sanji’s weight up too, until they both had their legs under them. 

“Thanks everyone,” Zoro called, patting Sanji’s head and coming a hand through his long hair, “I appreciate it.”

“How did we do?” Carrot asked Zoro as Sanji stumbled back inside.  “Helmeppo and I.  Do we have a future in acting?”

“Uh, sure,” Zoro said, his hand warm around Sanji’s.  “You did a good job.”

Sanji wiped at his eyes as someone popped champagne, then dutifully accepted a glass.  Everyone got one, and Sanji leaned his weight against Zoro, watching everyone chat and interact, as Usopp and Robin finished passing out flutes.

“Many of us were here the day Chef Black and Zoro met,” Robin called out confidently to the small crowd.  “And those of us were weren’t certainly have heard the story and followed your relationship over the past two years.  Zoro, thank you for making my best friend happy.  Cheers.”

“Cheers,” everyone called out, raising their glasses in a toast.  

“Cheers,” Sanji echoed, and drained his glass in one long gulp.  He stared at the engagement ring Zoro had gotten for him—beautifully laid with sapphires and aquamarine, the colors that of the aquarium wall behind them—and kissed the man with all he was worth. 

“Cook,” Zoro growled, “Where’s my tie?”  

He’d searched their apartment top to bottom while Sanji was in the bathroom getting his makeup professionally done for the evening.  Zoro’s own attendants had grown increasingly irate with his inability to find his tie.  They had to leave soon.

“Why didn’t you ask me sooner?” Sanji griped back, “Check your suit jacket’s pocket!”

“Oh.”  Zoro found the stupid thing.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” one of the young, starstruck attendants told him.  “You’re going to win.  Shimotsuki was amazing.”

“Thanks,” Zoro huffed.  “You think you can make this scar look a bit less ugly?”

His fiancé was freed shortly after, having finished everything with the tailors, accessorizers, and personal assistants.   He looked—fucking incredible.  Sanji looked fucking incredible.  

When he told Sanji as much, Sanji came over, tucking his long blond hair behind one ear.  He smiled, crinkled around his eyes and handsome mouth deepening.  “Breathe, my love,” he cooed, “It’s going to be fine.”

And it was. 

[The video is a Zoro fancam that ends up making the rounds after the Oscars are over.  Whoever it was had a good position to see Roronoa Zoro and his fiancé, Pirate Chef, from that meme a couple years back.  As they read out the nominations for Best Actor, Zoro smiles at the cameras when they pan to him, but otherwise he is stony faced, gripping Sanji’s hand tightly on top of the table.  

They both look great and had made quite a stir on the red carpet earlier.  At their table are Dracule and Perona Mihawk, and another two actors from Shimotsuki.  

And then the announcement comes from the podium: “ And the winner is… Zoro Roronoa for Shimotsuki!”  

The phone shakes a bit as the owner of the phone cheers themselves, then focuses again as Zoro and Sanji hug each other tightly and share several frantic kisses.  Sanji is already crying.  Zoro goes up to the stage, urged on by many of his peers, and the camera follows him briefly before fixating back on Sanji.

Oh—the phone owner is a Pirate Chef fan, actually, it seems.  

Afterwards, when this clip is played on TV, they overlay to the side a face-on view of Zoro speaking at the podium with Pirate Chef’s reaction beside it.  It’s emotional for Zoro, of course—seeing him win is great representation for a lot of people.  He’s well-liked and everyone knows all about how much he suffered for this film.  The big scar across one eye is proof enough of that.  

As Zoro thanks all his friends, agents, and folks who helped him along the way, Sanji keeps his hands to his cheeks and can’t help but cry, beaming and cheering.  But then something in Zoro’s face or tone of voice makes him pause, then his face morphs from weepy adoration to horror as he stands up and whirls around looking at everyone else.  It’s as if he can tell something terrible is about to happen.  

Then Zoro drops a pun he must have rehearsed at home:

“Eye worked harder for this than I’ve ever worked at anything,” Zoro says, but when he says Eye he fucking pops out his glass eyeball and holds it out with a big, dumb grin. 

There’s visible shock and horror that goes through the audience.  (Mihawk stays so utterly still you’d think he’s a .jpg.)  Someone gags, several folks scream, and no one laughs. 

Until Pirate Chef throws his head back and laughs so hard it looks like he’s going to be sick.  It echoes loudly in the shocked silence that followed Zoro’s utterly failed joke. As Zoro uncomfortably slinks off the podium without any fanfare, Sanji runs towards the stage, the video following him, and he meets Zoro halfway.  

They embrace, both grinning and laughing, and share a kiss.  

Pirate Chef goes viral again.]

NamiCat

Congratulations to my number one fan’s fiancé for winning big tonight at the Oscars.  

[The instagram photo is of her and Sanji Black.  Sanji is proudly posing next to Nami with a big, weepy smile on his face.  The second attached picture is of Zoro and Sanji sitting at a table in their nice suits (Zoro has changed his tailor ever since Sanji came into his life and is no longer on the worst-dressed lists).  Their arms are around each other and Zoro is grinning proudly as he holds his trophy.  Sanji is staring at him, lost in Zoro’s happiness, a small, private smile on his face.]  

Fin.