Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Two male teenagers, both 17-year-olds. Standing side by side, one blond and one green.

The one with blue eyes that, once you turn your gaze upon them, it feels like you've entered the vast ocean that you can't rise up from towards the surface. While those sharp brown pairs felt like you've encountered the devil's land.

When the two met, it felt like dancing with the reaper. The non-stop threats and arguments felt like no end; it was like a scythe being held near your throat. But each swing of the weapon only filled the person with excitement. The green-haired male could only grin at the sight. The sword’s tip close to the blond's neck.

Sanji could only chuckle.

"Y'know what, Marimo," he said as he lit the cigarette between his fingers.

"If I die by your swords, I wouldn't mind it at all..." he muttered after puffing a smoke.
His cheeks tinted with red hues, a small smile etched onto the blond's face.

A loud laughter only responded to Sanji's words. Zoro's heart beat faster inside his chest, his gaze on the blond. "And I'd stabbed my heart right after" he whispered, before putting his swords away.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

…

A grumble escaped from the sleeping blond, his sight was blurry as he slowly opened his eyes. He sat up and turned his head to look at the alarm clock, he sighed and got up to turn it off.

Once he sat back down, he yawned and glanced to his side. His stupid ass lover, Zoro Roronoa, was fast asleep, snoring loudly and sprawled out like a starfish. He wanted to hit him just by looking at his dumb-handsom-ugly face.

He continued to stare at the green-haired male, an irritated look on his face.

“Even when your sleeping you look dumb as hell..” he whispered, before he leaned closer to kiss his cheek. “My dumb ass boyfriend” he added almost lovingly.

“Well that was a good way to start my morning.”

SMACK!

“OW! What the hell!?” Zoro yelled, rubbing the spot on his head where he’d been hit. He looked at Sanji with a confused and offended expression. Sitting up, he frowned before his eyes softened at his blond lover. The blond male looked away, his bangs covering his eyes as both cheeks turned red like tomatoes. “Tch,” he muttered, refusing to meet Zoro’s gaze.

He sighed.

He’s still embarrassed even though we’ve been dating for nearly 5 years, living together for 5 months.

Zoro couldn’t help but tackle the man and kissed the living hell out of him, his dumb cook is so adorable. His lips planting on chef’s pale neck, soon sucking on the skin before leaving a gentle kiss. Sanji bit his bottom lip, putting both of his arms around Zoro’s shoulders. Letting him do whatever he wants. No one was looking anyway. It was just them two, alone.

“Ain’t fighting me off, curly brows?” Zoro teased before kissing his boyfriend’s cheek. Sanji could only roll his eyes at the comment before leaning his head on him.

“Not…this time” he murmured.

Zoro smiled, his eyes half-lidded before kissing him on the lips, the blond could only gasp from the sudden action before returning the kiss. This went on for a solid minute before they pulled away, both of them were panting from the lack of air, Sanji's lips were slightly flushed as he licked them, his blue eyes locking onto the brown ones. He felt Zoro’s gaze on him, clearly steady, he knows that look too well.

“AH- ah no, we are not having sex this early.”

“Why not? Its not like we haven’t done this before.”

“Nope, we have to meet up with the others remember?”

“then let them wait! It’s not like they’re going to die just for waiting a little longer” he retorted back, looking at the bulge on his pants before looking back, pleading almost to the blond.

“That’s not gonna work on me dumb marimo, go take a cold shower, I’m going to cook us a quick breakfast, besides we can’t let my dear Nami and Robin waiting for me any longer~!” he said as he finally got up from the bed, heading to the kitchen.

“fine, I need coffee first though” he grunted before grabbing the towel from the hanger.

 Afterwards the couple finally arrived where their close friends are.

“OIIIIIIIIIII, GUYS! SANJI AND ZORO ARE HERE!” Usopp, a first-year from their friend group, cheered from his spot. Beside him, Chopper, another first-year, waved at them excitedly.

“Finally! ZORO! SANJI! WE’VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU!” the petite male shouted, his signature blue hat bouncing as he gestured energetically.

Luffy whipped his head, and instantly, a bright smile appeared on his face. He laughed happily as he ran towards the two, Zoro could only chuckle at Luffy, a hilarious carefree and ambitious first year that he met a year ago. His very trusted, close friend.

Sanji smiled and waved back at chopper.

“Sanji! Zoro!  finally, the couple made it” Nami sighed with a smile, crossing her arms afterwards while Robin nodded in agreement. Sanji could only fawn and apologize to the ladies, giving them sweets that he baked but Luffy, his fashionable self, snatched it without hesitation before the blond could even present it to them, scolding him after.

Franky laughed, “Come on guys, let’s get inside Sunny before we lose anymore daylight!”

Chopper giggled before commenting “You speak of your car as if they were a real person!”

“I take great pride in it!”

The crew soon drove off to their destination.

Chapter Text

Baratie, With A Touch of Gay Part 1

“Just a quick stop,” Sanji said, eyes flicking toward the neon glow of Baratie, the sleek seaside fusion resto owned by his uncle. The chill evening breeze danced through his blond hair, strands catching the glow of streetlights. That signature grin curled on his lips. Smug, effortless, and stupidly hot.

Zoro was halfway through a scoff when he caught the full picture. Sanji, backlit by the sign, wind tugging at his coat like he walked straight out of a designer magazine. Heat bloomed across Zoro’s face, crawling from his neck to his ears.

Then Sanji winked.

Zoro nearly choked on his own breath.

“You good?” Nami asked.

“Must be the wind,” he muttered, poorly.

But “quick” turned into a storm.

Inside was chaos. Sanji in his chef’s whites again, a blur behind the counter as he plated a bento. The head chef sneered at the garnish.

“A smear of wasabi aioli? What is this, an Instagram reel?”

Sanji’s fist slammed into a pan. Then into the man’s ego.

Cue yelling. Plates crashing. Luffy clapping like it was the Royal Rumble, laughing like a gremlin. Zoro grabbed a fire extinguisher, not for fire, just because it felt right.

They were kicked out in fifteen minutes.

Outside, the sky had turned gold and purple, dusk bleeding across the horizon. Sanji leaned against the hood of the car, cigarette lit, fingers trembling, whether from adrenaline or rage, even he wasn’t sure. He exhaled through his teeth.

“You done?” Zoro asked, leaning on the bumper beside him.

Sanji’s eyes flared. “With them? Yeah. With you? Not even close.”

Zoro smirked. “Good. 'Cause if you keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna start thinking you care.”

The cigarette burned low. Sanji didn’t look away.

“Why wouldn’t I care for my lovely boyfriend?” he said with a smile, leaning in to steal a quick kiss.

Zoro grinned, and immediately yanked him in for another, deeper one.

“OI, YOU LOVELY LOVE BIRD-BASTARDS. DON’T DO THAT ON SUNNY!” Franky shrieked, sobbing dramatically.

The rest of the crew turned away in synchronized disgust. Except Luffy.

Luffy laughed because he knows that two of his best friends are in good hands.

Gyudon, With A Touch of Gay Part 2

Back at school, things went from zero to chaos faster than Sanji could light a cigarette.

Zoro almost got suspended last week. Not for fighting, surprisingly but for obliterating the fucking school’s vending machine outside the gym with his bare fists.

In his defense, it ate his two berries.
In Luffy’s defense, he’d said, “Bet you won’t punch it,” and that was that.

Meanwhile, Sanji had somehow gained a fan club in Class 3-B. They passed him love letters shaped like croissants and stared at him during lunch like he was a romance novel protagonist.

Chopper was surviving his Biology finals, stress-eating gummy bears and whispering formulas like prayers.

And Nami? Nami was dragging them all into tutoring sessions that felt less like study groups and more like carefully staged hostage situations

“Is it just me,” Usopp muttered in the hallway one day, “or is the PE teacher kinda hot?”

“She’s my aunt, you ass,” Sanji said flatly. His expression cringing at Usopp’s comment.

Robin, sipping her iced coffee nearby, didn’t even look up. “Mm. Condolences.”

“DUDE, YOU’RE DATING THE MOST POPULAR, RUGGED GUY IN SCHOOL! EVEN THE GIRLS ARE JEALOUS OF YOU!” Usopp groaned, throwing his arms up. “He literally looks like he was carved out of gym benches and unresolved issues!”

Sanji lit a cigarette and exhaled.

At least he has a big coc-

“your point?”

“My point is, let me have this!”

“No,” Sanji said. “That’s disgusting. And besides, those beautiful ladies adore me, thank you very much!”

He twirled mid-hallway, hearts in his eyes.

Usopp rolled his eyes so hard they nearly fell out of his skull.

Smack.

Robin flipped another page of her book. Sanji whimpered dramatically.

“ROBIN-CHAAAAN~!”

“I still can’t believe you’re with Zoro,” Usopp sighed. “You flirt with every girl, goo-goo eyes and all that stuff.”

“Oh, please, I--"

“I LOVE GYUDON!!!”

Luffy’s yell echoed across the entire school from the rooftop, halting everything. Heads turned. Silence fell.

“WE LOVE GYUDON TOOOO!!!”

Two voices bellowed in response from the courtyard below.
Luffy leaned over the railing with a huge grin, spotting Ace and Sabo waving at him, both laughing like lunatics.

“GET DOWN FROM THERE, LUFFY, OR OLD MAN GARP GONNA SUSPEND YOU!” Ace shouted.

“BE CAREFUL!!” Sabo added, still cracking up.

“‘KAY!!” Luffy beamed.

Before he could shout again, the door to the rooftop burst open.
Zoro stomped out, grabbed Luffy by the collar, and hauled him back inside like a sack of rice, completely unfazed.

Robin, leaning casually by the window, recorded the whole thing on her phone without even blinking.

Later, the video made it onto her blog.

Chapter Text

Nami had said, with confidence "Let’s just go window shopping."

Nine hours later.

Sanji's arms sligtly trembled beneath the weight of seven 30kg shopping bags filled with things none of them needed. He didn’t show he was in pain though.

Shoes, belts, three bottles of cologne Luffy tried to drink, not once but twice. And a pineapple lamp for Robin and, etc. His dignity was somewhere back in the home decor aisle.

Zoro had managed to make it this far without trying a single thing on (yet).
Just stood there, arms crossed, looking like a bodyguard. Couple of the sales staff tried flirting with the man but of course Zoro, being his non-sociable self, scoffed and left but this didn’t stir the men and women away.

Sanji watched from across the aisle, arms crossed, trying very hard not to look as bothered as he felt. A couple of the sales staff were clearly eyeing Zoro like he was a limited-edition luxury item, throwing shameless grins and “Can I help you with anything, sir?” in voices way too sweet for retail.

Zoro, of course, didn’t even blink. Just scoffed, shoved his hands in his pockets, and walked off like the antisocial brute he was. Didn’t even notice the way some of them bit their lip watching him go.

Sanji’s eye twitched. Not because he was jealous. No. Of course not. He’s actually jealous that his boyfriend is getting all the attention and not him! Definitely!..

It’s just, seriously? That dumb marimo walks around looking like that with the social skills of a brick, and people still fawn over him?

Sanji lit a cigarette and exhaled sharply but stopped when a mall officer stared at him. He growled and grabbed the shopping bags, stomping away.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, but his gaze lingered on Zoro’s back as he walked away, broad shoulders and all.

And it happened again. And Nami was watching this time.

They were supposed to be shopping for jeans. With Nami.

Jeans. Not chaos. Not gay panic. Jeans.

Yet here they were.

Zoro stood by the mirror, shirt half-tucked, looking like he just walked off the cover of some outdoorsy cologne ad. And across from him stood the sales guy. Tall, stupidly half ripped with a slender figure, and worst of all, blond. Same shade as Sanji’s. Same smug smile too. Just without the curly eyebrows.

Sanji narrowed his eyes as the guy brushed invisible lint off Zoro’s shoulder. “You really fill those jeans out,” the man purred, slow and lustful. “Especially around the… thighs.”

Zoro, in his usual "brain empty, only sword thoughts", blinked slowly.

“…Thanks. I squat.”

Sanji nearly combusted on the spot.

The guy leaned closer, practically eye-fucking Zoro through the mirror. “If you want a private fitting, I can-”

“Oh,” Zoro said, perking up. “You got more pants? Nami what do you think…”

Sanji’s jaw dropped. He was just standing there, right there, next to the display of overpriced belts, watching his boyfriend get flirted on like he wasn’t even breathing in the same airspace.

And Zoro? Zoro was smiling.

“I like your hair,” the salesman added.

Zoro squinted. “Thanks… yours is… blond.”

“Like your type?”

Zoro paused.

Actually paused.

Then, in the most genuine, oblivious voice Sanji had ever heard him use
“Yeah. My boyfriend’s blond.”

The salesman faltered. “Oh-”

“His hair's kinda like yours,” Zoro went on, still not catching a damn thing. “But he’s prettier. He smells like cinnamon when he’s mad.”

Sanji choked.

The salesman took a polite half-step back.

Then Zoro, finally glancing sideways, spotted Sanji, clearly pissed off.

Nami choked a snort.

“Yo, love, this guy’s helping me pick pants.”

Sanji exhaled through his nose. “Is he, now.”

Zoro blinked again, totally unbothered. “He said I got good thighs.”

Sanji dragged him by the collar out of the fitting area. “Your thighs are MINE. And so is your brain, unfortunately.”

Zoro, being Zoro, was just happy he was getting dragged somewhere by his pretty blond boyfriend.

Meanwhile, the salesman stood frozen, one hand to his chest, muttering,
“Cinnamon…?”

Nami laughed at the exchange, then sighed as an idea struck her. Begrudgingly, she paid for the pants and followed after the two lovebirds

Later on, Nami was already picking out outfits for herself, why not for the couple too? But when she whipped her head toward the two, they were just minding their own business, not acting like a couple at all, as if nothing had happened earlier.

Meanwhile Zoro didn’t get far before he sensed it, He may be dumb at times but god damn, that weird, hot pressure of someone staring.

He turned his head slightly, and there Sanji was, pretending to be deeply fascinated by a pair of overpriced loafers, jaw just a bit too tight.

Zoro blinked. Then smirked.

He doubled back casually, hands still in his pockets.

“You good?” he asked, voice low.

Sanji didn’t even look at him. “Peachy. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Zoro raised a brow, glancing at the blond sale’s clerk earlier who was still watching him from the register.

He leaned in, close enough that Sanji could smell the faint rich of his stupidly expensive body wash.

“I didn’t even notice,” Zoro said, voice rough but honest. “Don’t care.”

Sanji clicked his tongue, finally looking at him. “Yeah? Didn’t seem like you were in a rush to leave, either.”

Zoro reached out, grabbing Sanji’s wrist, not rough, but firm, grounding.

“I came here with you, didn’t I?”

And just like that, Sanji froze like his brain just crashed.

“Y-you Damn it, you always say stuff like that without thinking,” he muttered, ears turning red.

Zoro shrugged like it was no big deal. “Not my fault you like it.”

He turned and started walking again like he hadn’t just broken Sanji’s brain in the middle of the clothing store.

“You coming or what?”

Sanji stared after him for a second, completely flustered. “Stupid…” he mumbled, but still followed, hands stuffed in his pockets and heart thumping way too fast for something so dumb.

They almost made it past the next store when.

“BOYS! Get back here, Zoro, you especially!”

Nami spotted it.
A black leather vest. Cropped. Fitted. SEXY.

She shoved it into Zoro’s chest. “Try this on, whore.”

He scowled, opened his mouth to protest, but one sharp look from Nami had him stomping into the fitting room with a muttered, “Tch. Whatever.”

Sanji leaned against the wall, a saleslady offering him a drink. “He’s gonna look like a joke. Thank you, mademoiselle” he flirted then turning back to fitting room.

The door creaked open.

And then Zoro stepped out.

Sanji nearly inhaled the plastic lid on his drink.

The vest clung to him like sin.
Tight across the chest, hugging his ridiculous big ass pecs like it owed them rent.
His arms. those arms, veined and sun-kissed and somehow bigger under mall lighting.
There was a scar peeking over the edge of the vest, just barely visible, trailing down…

“You good, Curly?” Zoro asked, brow raised.

Sanji blinked. Once. Twice.

He cleared his throat, pretending his soul hadn't just left his body.

“…You need sleeves, stupid marimo.”

Zoro rolled his eyes and turned back toward the mirror, tugging slightly at the hem.

Sanji, behind him, was screaming internally.

He looked down at the bags in his hands.

Then back up at Zoro's chest.

He needs his father’s credit card, stat. Sanji needs new clothes, and it’s not for him.

Nami grinned, she could literally read the blond twink’s thoughts.

“Give me some too”

Zoro looked confused.

Meanwhile with the others.

Usopp got lost in the manga aisle. Franky bought a fake katana. Chopper refused to get new sneakers because they were “too expensive and I love my current ones.” And also adding he needs things for his laboratory classes. Luffy spilled his mango shake all over the escalator.

Robin bought lace gloves, a poetry book, and absolutely nothing else. “Efficient,” she said, smiling.

They ended the night eating Takoyaki in a parking lot, bathed in strip mall lights, exhausted but with complete satisfaction..

Chapter Text

What was supposed to be a quick trip to a summer fair turned into a nightmare road trip across cracked highways under an angry sun.

The car overheated. Sanji’s temper boiled over.
Zoro tried to “fix” the engine with a pocket knife.

“YOU DON’T POKE THE ENGINE, YOU WRENCH-WIELDING NEANDERTHAL!”
“YOU WANNA TRY ME, TWINK?”

Luffy was face-down in the sand, muttering something about “meat mirages.”
They were about to give up when a pastel-blue jeep rolled up, its horn tooting cheerfully.

Vivi stepped out, smiling like a mirage in a blue sundress. “Need a lift?”

Nami eyes widen.

Sanji almost passed out, again.

Zoro dragged him into the backseat, muttering, “Drama queen.”

That night, at a sleepy desert motel, Sanji laid on the balcony floor, sweat drying under the stars. Zoro sat beside him, knees brushing.

“You really thought we were gonna die back there,” Sanji said, voice raw with laughter.

Zoro didn’t answer. Just handed him a cold bottle of water.

Their fingers touched. Neither pulled away.

Chapter Text

Chopper got sick.

Really sick.

It started with a little sniffle after a rainy day on campus. Then the fever came. Then the coughing that wracked his tiny body and refused to leave. And then, like some cruel twist of fate, he stopped talking. Just curled up on the couch, face flushed, eyes barely open.

No one said it out loud.
But fear clung to the air like static before lightning.

Sanji had been in the kitchen all day, ever since that afternoon when they were hanging out with Chopper and he suddenly collapsed. He and Zoro had barely managed to catch the petite boy before he hit the ground. Without thinking twice, they brought him back to their shared apartment.

Sanji was not pacing, not panicking. Just… cooking.

Soup, every hour. Variations of it, creamy mushroom, plain chicken broth, sweet corn porridge. Bread rolls baked with herbs he thought Chopper might like. Honey lemon water, herbal teas from Robin’s stash. Everything made with the kind of care that felt like praying.

He would walk out with a tray, every hour on the dot, and try to coax even a spoonful past Chopper’s lips. Most of the time, it was left untouched.
But Sanji kept cooking anyway.

Zoro didn’t leave the couch. Not once.
He sat cross legged on the floor, shoulder barely brushing against the edge of the coffee table, one hand lightly resting over Chopper’s tiny hand. His fingers never pressed too hard, never moved too much. Just enough touch to say, “I’m here. I’m still here.”

He barely blinked. Barely ate. When Sanji placed a plate of food near him, it went cold every time.

Sanji noticed, of course. He wasn’t stupid. But he didn’t say anything.

Instead, he sat beside Zoro once, just once when the clock hit midnight and the house had gone too quiet. Rain drizzled outside the apartment window like it was whispering.

“I hate this,” Sanji mumbled, eyes locked on Chopper’s pale face. “I’d take it all if I could. It... just reminds me of my mama.”

Zoro didn’t respond right away.
But his thumb moved. Just a little. Just enough to brush across Chopper’s palm, like he was agreeing with every word.

“I know,” Zoro finally said. “Me too.”

Another hour passed. Sanji got up to heat the kettle. Zoro adjusted Chopper’s blanket with a tenderness no one ever expected from him.

At 3:12 a.m., Chopper stirred.

His eyes opened, barely. His voice cracked through a dry throat.

“…Sorry.”

Sanji froze midstep. The mug in his hand rattled against the saucer.
Zoro sat upright, eyes wide.

“Hey,” Sanji whispered, rushing to the couch. “Don’t say that. You didn’t do anything wrong. Just scared us a bit, passing out like that…”

He crouched and reached forward, pressing the back of his hand gently to Chopper’s forehead. Still hot, but not burning. Still alive.

Zoro leaned in, eyes never leaving Chopper. “You scared us, little guy,” he said quietly.

Chopper blinked slowly. Then closed his eyes again, letting himself rest.

Sanji sat on the edge of the couch, one hand on Chopper’s blanket, the other reaching for Zoro’s shoulder. Just a light squeeze.

They didn’t talk more than that.
The rain kept falling.

But for the first time in what felt like days, it didn’t feel suffocating.

They sat in the hush of the living room, their silence full… not empty.
Heavy with love.
Tired, but whole.

Chapter Text

A trip to Water 7 felt like a dream.

City lights danced on water like reflections of another world. Boats glided past with soft waves in their wake, and everywhere they looked, it was color streets dotted with vendors selling candied fruits, bridges laced with lanterns, kids on bikes zooming past, and music spilling from corner cafés. It was chaotic in the most magical way.

For once, no school, no stress, no obligations. Just them. The Straw Hats and a little break.

They ran through the city like kids set loose after curfew, Luffy dragging Usopp toward a meat stall, Nami negotiating hard with a jewelry seller, and Chopper squealing at a shop with plushies shaped like sea creatures.

Sanji kept an eye on everything, his hand loosely interlaced with Zoro’s whenever the crowd thinned enough to make space for it. They weren’t openly coupley, but there were moments. A shared drink. A bumped shoulder. The lingering glance whenever Zoro laughed.

It was perfect. Until it wasn’t.

One second, Sanji turned to buy takoyaki from a stall.

The next, Zoro was gone.

He wasn’t at the bench they agreed to meet at. Wasn’t by the stall they had eyed earlier. Sanji scanned the crowd, dozens of heads, none of them green. His heart started to race.

Maybe he just went ahead. Maybe he got distracted.

Or maybe..just maybe?

No. Don’t go there.

Still, panic crawled up his spine like something feral.

He called. Texted. Nothing.

His breathing got weird. Too fast. Too shallow. The corners of the world blurred. His fingers reached up, almost on instinct, and buried themselves in the fringe of his bangs, gripping tight at the spot above his left temple. The exact place where his metal helmet used to press down when he was a kid. He squeezed the roots of his hair there, grounding himself.

Breathe. In. Out. Don't cry here. Don't break here.

He hated that he still did that. Hated that it worked.

After twenty minutes of frantic searching, he finally spotted him.

After twenty minutes of fruitless running around…

Zoro was just standing near the waterfront, hoodie up, headphones in, leaning against the railing like he hadn’t disappeared and turned Sanji into a frantically spiraling mess. He looked so calm, so infuriatingly unaware.

Sanji stormed up, chest tight. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere....what the hell?!”

Zoro turned slowly, one earbud still in, brow raised. “I told Luffy I was heading to the edge. Thought you’d figure it out.”

“You told Luffy? Are you serious? He doesn’t even know what day it is half the time!”

Zoro shrugged. “I can handle myself.”

Sanji blinked, a strange ache blooming behind his eyes. “That’s not the point, idiot.”

“Then what is the point?” Zoro asked, his tone edging toward defensive. “I didn’t realize I had to report to you every time I took five steps.”

Sanji flinched. “That’s not what I’m saying!”

“Then what are you saying?”

Sanji stared at him, jaw clenched. The wind off the water was cool, but his face felt hot.

“I thought something happened to you,” he said quietly. “I thought-” he cut himself off. “You don’t get it.”

“I don’t get why you’re making this a big deal,” Zoro muttered. “I was gone for what, twenty minutes?”

“Yeah, and my heart was in my throat the whole time!” Sanji snapped. “I didn’t know if you got lost, or dragged somewhere, or-”

“I’m not a damn toddler, stupid cook. You can’t control--”

“And I’m not trying to control you!” Sanji said, hands thrown up. “I just, care. Maybe too much…Maybe more than you want.” He breathed out.

Silence hung between them. The sounds of the city seemed distant now. All Sanji could hear was the thudding in his chest.

Zoro looked away, arms crossing. “You always do this,” he mumbled.

“Do what?”

“Freak out. Turn everything into a meltdown. Like, every time I don’t act the way you expect, it’s suddenly a whole damn thing.”

Sanji recoiled like he’d been slapped. “I’m sorry I give a shit, then. Must be exhausting having someone who actually worries about you!”

“That’s not what I-” Zoro groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “This is why I don’t say anything sometimes.”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault you act like a rock with a sword and zero emotional vocabulary?”

Zoro turned to him fully now, eyes narrowing. “Do you even hear yourself?”

“You know what? No,” Sanji snapped. “Screw this.”

He turned, walking away a few steps before stopping, shoulders tight, fists clenched.

“I don’t want you to just be okay,” he said, voice quieter now. “I want you to be safe. I want to know you’re not going to vanish without saying anything because I’m scared, I won’t be able to find you again. And maybe that’s stupid, and maybe I care too much, and maybe I suck at dealing with it. But at least I feel something.”

Zoro didn’t respond. Not right away. His jaw shifted. His eyes flicked down to the ground, then back up.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, voice low. “I just… didn’t think it was that serious.”

Sanji exhaled through his nose, bitter.

“Yeah. That’s the problem.”

They didn’t say much after that.

They found a bench nearby. Shoes damp from where the canal had splashed over the edge. Sanji sat with arms crossed tight over his chest. Zoro leaned back, his hands in his pockets, staring up at the string lights that swayed gently above them.

They didn’t apologize.

Didn’t hug it out.

Didn’t say I love you.

They just sat in silence, pretending the night was still beautiful even though it now felt a little colder. The city still blinked like a constellation across the water. Music still played. People still laughed.

Sanji stared at his hands.

The knuckles red where they’d clenched too tight. Fingertips trembling slightly. He pressed his palm over that same spot on his head again, absentmindedly now, out of habit. It didn’t soothe him as much as it used to.

Not when Zoro was right there beside him and still felt so far away.

Something between them remained unspoken. A thread pulled too tight.

It would pass. It always did.

But right now, they were two boys on a bench.

Not enemies.

Not lovers.

Just two hearts aching quietly under the cold night...

Chapter Text

The dish hit the floor with a loud shatter, creamy sauce splattering across Sanji’s shoes. Everyone inside the Baratie went quiet, the customers and staff looked over, their expressions were a mixed of confusion and shock.

“I said this taste like shit! Are you trying to purposely ruin your reputation? you said you’re going to give me something good! And you call yourself a chef?” the customer snarled, slamming his fork down. They were fuming with rage, it left a bitter taste.

Sanji stared down at the ruined plate. For a second, the words didn’t sting.

Because they were shit…

He couldn’t even retort back as the food was wasted on the ground. He felt like throwing up, a lump struck in his throat. He didn’t know. His throat tightened even more as he slowly bent down, picking up the plate without a word.

It didn’t hurt as he picked those broken pieces.

He could hear the noises but couldn’t make out the words what was.

They were angry,

Patty barked from the kitchen.

Zeff was watching from the hallway. But Sanji only muttered, “I’ll fix it.”

Because he didn’t have the strength to fight today.

Not today.

Not when the air still smelled like lilies from the bouquet, he left at her grave this morning.

Not when she, his loving mother, the only softness in his world was gone.

He slipped away before the next order came in. He left his apron on the hook, took the long bus ride, and walked the quietest streets until he reached that rundown place.

An abandoned rooftop near the train tracks. Hidden enough to be a secret, high enough to see the sky.

Zoro was already there.

Sanji’s heart thumped.

(Flashback incoming...)

 

It started with a shared lighter behind the gym.

Nothing special, just a borrowed flame, a muttered “thanks,” and two boys too stubborn to ever admit they wanted more.

From there, it became a pattern. Zoro waiting by the gate after class. Sanji tossing an apple slice at him during lunch. Sneaking out after curfew, meeting near the train station, walking through empty streets where the world felt quieter. Softer. Easier to breathe in. Safe to hold.

They weren’t dating. Not really.

But the late night ramen runs and rooftop hangouts said otherwise.

So yeah, they texted. Like, a lot.

Zoro wasn’t even the texting type, everyone knew that in their friend group. The dude barely replied in group chats and left people on “read”. But somehow, with Sanji? He fucking responded. Sometimes late, sometimes with typos, but he did. And Sanji? Sanji would be lyingin bed, clutching his phone, grinning like an idiot every time the screen lit up.

He giggled. Actually giggled. Like some loser with a full-blown crush. Threw his pillow over his face. Kicked his legs. The whole thing.

They’d talk about dumb stuff. Homework. What Zoro was having for dinner. How Sanji would totally beat him in Mario Kart (he wouldn’t). Sometimes, it was just memes. Rants about what was happening at the restaurant, types of food they like, their workout routine, and somehow it got kind of deep. It got to the point where they knew each other’s worlds like the backs of their own hands.

There were nights where the convo would just keep going… until one of them ghosted mid-sentence. Sanji would wake up to a half-written message he never sent, and Zoro’s “you dead or what” waiting for him in the morning.

And Sanji would just... stare at his phone, heart doing that stupid thing.
Because holy shit, this wasn’t just banter anymore.

Zoro (1:13AM): u ever feel like ur gonna explode but u don’t know why
Sanji (1:14AM): every fucking day

They didn’t call it anything. Didn’t have to. It was something warm between them, simmering slow. A kind of understanding that didn’t need labels. Just shared moments.

And maybe… maybe love, who knows...

(End of flashback)

 

 

But then Sanji stopped replying.

First it was one night.

Then another.

And when he did reply, it was short.

Zoro (10:22PM): u good?
Sanji (11:17PM): yeah just tired
Zoro (11:18PM): want me to come over?

He wasn’t tired.

He was unraveling.

It had been three days since he last replied to Zoro.

Not because he didn’t want to. But because he didn’t know how to.

Sanji stared blankly at the cracked screen of his phone, Zoro’s last message still pinned at the top.

Zoro (8:03PM): our spot?

He typed something.
Deleted it.
Typed again.
Deleted.

His fingers trembled.

In the dim back kitchen of the Baratie, the heat from the stove couldn’t reach the cold gnawing at his chest. Sora was gone. She was really gone. And tonight, when a customer threw the food he made with shaking hands, he didn’t even get mad.

The food was wasted, he was yelled at the customer telling him how the food was disgusting.

It felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Like he never deserved to be cooking in her name to begin with.

She used to hum while stirring soup. Her apron always smelled like fresh herbs. She told him he had gentle hands, that his food could make anyone feel safe. She said he was born to create, not destroy. But now, with her gone, all he felt was hollow.

And when he looked at his reflection in the steel fridge.

Cheeks hollow, eyes red, curls hanging over his eyes, and he saw his father.

His old man.

That was what terrified him.

What if Zoro saw that, too?

Cold.

Cruel.

Empty eyes that never once looked at him with love.
A man who called him a failure, an embarrassment, a defect that never should’ve been born. Who tore him down with every word, with every sharp, painful silence. Who looked at his kindness and saw weakness. Who saw his heart and called it shameful.

That was what terrified Sanji.

What if Zoro looked past the sarcasm and the smirks and saw that?

Not the boy he first met, sharp tongued and self-sufficient, but someone pitiful.
Someone broken. Someone who, no matter how hard he tried, couldn’t shake the shadow of the man he never wanted to become.

Would he leave him?

Throw him away…

Sanji stared right back at the boy with green hair.

He honestly expected it to be empty.

But Zoro was there. Sitting at the edge with one leg swung over the railing, hands tucked into the sleeves of his hoodie, his phone beside him. As if he’d been waiting all this time. As if he knew.

Sanji swallowed hard.

“Took you long enough.”

Sanji didn’t respond. Just dropped his bag beside him and sat down.

Zoro got up. “You okay?”

Sanji scoffed, shaking his head. “No.”

Silence stretched between them, but not the uncomfortable kind.

“I’m not gonna ask what happened,” Zoro said finally. “But I’ll sit here with you as long as you want.”

And that was it. That was enough.

Sanji’s chest ached. His throat burned. He wanted to scream, to cry, to run, run until he collapsed. But instead, he sat there beside Zoro.

And stayed.

They didn’t talk much that night. Sanji’s hands trembled when he lit a cigarette, and Zoro took it from him. Didn’t smoke it, just held it until it burned out. When Sanji leaned against his shoulder, Zoro didn’t move.

They fell asleep under the stars, on their stupid rooftop. When morning came and Sanji stirred, trying to leave quietly, Zoro’s arm reached out.

Grabbed him by the wrist firmly.

“Don’t.”

“I need to go,” Sanji said weakly, “School starts in an hour and I-”

“Then let’s be late.”

Sanji blinked down at him. The warmth of his hand around his wrist, the honesty in his sleepy eyes. Zoro tugged him back down.

“You always leave,” Zoro whispered. “Just for once… stay with me.”

Sanji hesitated a second but immediately sank back beside him.

Zoro leaned in, lips brushing against Sanji’s. Soft. Sure.

“I’m not gonna disappear on you,” he murmured. “And if I do… if I ever hurt you like they did, take your stupid chef knife and stab me straight in the heart.”

Sanji laughed wetly, burying his face into the crook of Zoro’s neck. “You’re so fucking dramatic, marimo.”

“You bring it out of me, curly brows…”

Later at school, the group had gathered outside under the shade of the big acacia tree. Nami was gossiping about some stupid rumor and this lady she tried negotiating, the usual stuff, Usopp was acting it out, and Luffy was busy eating everyone’s snacks.

Zoro arrived late, backpack half-zipped. He whipped his head left and right like a lost tourist, muttering under his breath, “Where the hell is everyone? they said they should be here.”

And lo’ and behold, He finally spotted them, all grouped up, laughing and talking, He walked towards them, yawning. An annoyed expression on his face.

“You guys suck at giving directions. What if I died on the way here, huh?”

that’s when Sanji turned to look.

Everything became a blur except him.

It wasn’t the usual annoyed glare.

It wasn’t even a smirk.

No, Sanji looked at Zoro with

Heart eyes.

Real ones.

Big, soft, open.

The kind of look Sanji used to throw at every pretty girl in a dress, only this one wasn’t loud. Wasn’t forced. Just honest.

Everyone saw it.

Nami blinked. Usopp paused mid-act. Luffy tilted his head. The gang was looking at Sanji back to Zoro.

No one said a word.

They didn’t have to.

Because that look? That kind of love?

It was loud enough on its own