Chapter Text
It’s an uncomfortably warm night in July when everything goes to shit.
While everyone else is on summer break, Sanji and most of his friends are still dealing with extended classes, massive projects or just extra credit classes. At the very least, the biggest project the cook had to present was due this week. And he wowed his class, thank fuck. That was the one thing that was keeping him up right now.
He can deal with extra credit classes that don’t mean anything, it couldn’t matter any less. But he wants to ace those classes everyone always complains about because it’s “impossible to get an A”. This mostly means he has to hole up in his room or in the kitchen, slaving away ‘til he gets things right, but it’s worth it.
So worth it, in fact, that Luffy called for a celebration. Probably just a means to an end, that bastard loves to be invited to food and drinks. Sanji was up for it, though. They we’re supposed to go celebrate all together at their favorite bar.
Only problem was, the rest were already seizing their precious weekend. Robin and Franky were on a date. Brook went on a road trip, since he and his band got a gig a couple towns over. Nami, Chopper and Usopp had gone that day to some amusement park and were ready to drop…
This left only three idiots going out to get blackout drunk that day. And believe it or not, Sanji wasn’t exactly mad about this outcome.
Sure, his beautiful female friends weren’t coming, and that was honestly heartbreaking. He could only brush it off because he saw them recently at Nami’s birthday party. He could survive another week.
There’s something else, too… See, Zoro was used to blowing them all off when they went out together. He liked to drink alone and, more importantly, he hated Luffy when he got drunk. And Nami. The bastard just hates everyone, it’s his thing.
For some reason, though, the past couple of months have been different. Maybe even longer. It’s just— He shows up to every gathering. Even if it’s stupid shit he never takes a part of, like playing video games or rollerblading. He shows up without a miss. Hell, whenever Sanji misses an outing or two, now it’s that idiot Marimo the one blowing up his phone with the weirdest stuff.
He never asks “what happened” or “why couldn’t you make it”. No. Instead he goes:
>> Marimo: Did you die? You did, didn’t you? Nami owes me money
Or maybe he’ll hit Sanji with:
>> Marimo: Luffy’s saying I gotta make breakfast if you’re not here. I fucking hate you
Or even, that one memorable time he texted:
>> Marimo: Oi
>> Marimo: Sorry, wrong number
>> Marimo: Searched idiot and you came up first
>> Marimo: What’re you doing anyway?
It’s… odd. Aside from the weird behavior whenever Sanji missed an outing, it didn’t get any better when they shared a room. The banter between them had vanished. Disappeared completely. In its wake was left just an awkward silence. Whenever Sanji tried to say something witty, it was met with a huff and a roll of eyes. Immediately after, the bastard would walk off.
It’s as if he was being given the cold shoulder, treated like an actual nuisance, and it was clear Zoro was annoyed with his presence now more than ever.
The thing is, it wouldn’t have mattered a year ago, when he still thought that Moss-moron was a waste of space and an entitled piece of shit that just happened to be in his friend group. Sure, they’d been friends since they were fourteen along with Luffy, Nami and Usopp, big deal. It’s only because Sanji tried to befriend his beloved Nami-san and had to deal with the other three.
He always butted heads with the idiot, their dynamic consisted of mindless banter and sass. The only time they interacted without insults was that summer a few years ago when he took everyone to the cabin by the beach with Zeff, and he told his friends what happened with his mom.
Even then, the moss-ball just kept quiet. Mumbled with Zeff a few nothings, not anything of substance, surely. For some reason, he and Zeff are like besties (makes sense, they’re both the bane of Sanji’s existence). It didn’t matter, though, the cook never expected anything more from that bastard. He didn’t take it personally. Hours later, they were back to insulting each other.
So, after such consistency for the better part of a decade, to have this dramatic a shift in their dynamic felt… not great. Now the easy and uncomplicated bond between them felt heavy and, well, complicated as fuck.
It has everything to do with the fact that, just months ago, Sanji realized something baffling: he’s in love with Zoro. Someway. Somehow. Amidst the yelling and grunting, he’d found things to respect and admire.
And it all came crashing down last Christmas. For him, at least.
They never give each other gifts. Ever. Be it Christmas, or a birthday, they just don’t do that. It’s a silent hatred pact. To Sanji, gift giving is a serious thing. It means… a lot. Too much for a stupid moss-ball, is what he’d told himself all those years. So this past Christmas, it was no different. He didn’t even get the idiot anything, didn’t try.
They got together to exchange a few gifts and drink eggnog a couple days after the 25th. And when all was said and done, and Sanji was getting his coat on, Zoro literally walked by, shoved a box at his chest, and muttered, “Merry Christmas”.
Sanji was left there, mouth agape, wondering if he’d maybe spiked his eggnog a little too much. Looking down, he couldn’t believe his eyes when he realized it was a gift box. He even was careful of where and how he opened it, almost certain that it was a glitter bomb of some kind…
It wasn’t. No. It was a Mandolin slicer. A nice one. Hell, a fucking expensive one. Sanji could only stare. He’d shared not even four weeks ago about how he messed up his mandolin slicer because he cut his palm like an idiot and dropped it. When it slammed on the floor it completely came apart, and he had to cut things thinly by hand for a project. He’d been so bummed about it. They weren’t necessarily expensive tools, but Sanji was also poor as fuck.
Or at least, this time of year he was poor as fuck. Because he spent all his money on gifts for the important people in his life.
To be presented with a gift like this, from a guy like that… Sanji couldn’t believe it. It was so fucking… weird. Thoughtful. The stupid post-it on top of it even made him chuckle, “ Don’t lose a hand you moron ”.
He freaked out for a whole week about why that single gesture meant so much. It felt as if a dam had been opened wide, and now everything was flooding into focus. All those times he stared longingly at Zoro’s back, trying to think of something funny to say and coming up empty. Those times he tried to come up with excuses to casually bump into him. Feeling excited whenever he did come to one of their outings.
Shit… how long had he been feeling like this? He had no idea.
Back in early January, when he finally accepted it, he swore to himself he’d figure out what to do about it. He wouldn’t just resign himself to pining quietly.
Yet here he is, in fucking July, pining quietly and wondering why Zoro’s been so weird these past few months.
Is it something he said? The bastard still comes over every two weeks to hang out with Zeff and watch sports, so he must not be that mad, right? Plus, if he doesn’t wanna see Sanji, why come to every fucking outing?! Right?! What’s he playing at here?!
The recap goes through his head as he sits alone in that bar, wondering if Zoro’s gonna be a no-show this time. He and Luffy can raise the roof by themselves, it’s fine. He doesn’t need a no-good Marimo that’s just gonna scowl and huff the night away. Asshole. Bitter son of a bitch… why does he have to be like this?!
…Shit, maybe Sanji shouldn’t drink all that much. What if he ends up drunk-calling that bastard?! Gods, that would be embarrassing.
He gets a slap upside the back of his head, “Stop glaring at the table. It’s not its fault you’re so fuckin’ ugly” huffs Zoro as he sits across from him on the little booth. He doesn’t even crack a smirk.
Well, fuck. “Go back home, will ya? Or back to the pond where you belong you stupid Marimo”. To that, the bastard only huffed, and the awkward silence settled between them once again.
He’d been about to ask what the hell was up, when Luffy turned up along with Ace and Sabo. Together, they all started properly celebrating, and the mood quickly became lively and easy. Thankfully, that meant Zoro sort of faded into the background.
Between Ace needing him as a wingman, then Sabo begging for relationship advice because Koala was upset at him again, and finally Luffy daring Zoro and Sanji to down shot after shot… the night was wild as fuck.
Once they’re all drunk, the banter between all of them just gets hilarious.
Ace and Sabo keep arguing about who’s the ‘favoritest’ brother, Ace keeps asking to the group “if I was a woman you’d go out with me, right?!”, and Luffy was slurring his words more and more by the second. It probably had something to do with the fact that, when he wasn’t looking, they were all sneaking more and more booze in his cup.
Idiot kept shouting “Magic cup!” every time he took a sip.
Nearing midnight is when Sanji has a little blackout moment, and he can’t remember much of it. By one in the morning, Ace and Sabo are gone, Luffy’s passed out, Zoro’s giggling because even unconscious, if Luffy smells food he sticks it in his mouth, and Sanji somehow lost his blazer.
That was his favorite blazer, too.
It’s maybe time to go, isn’t it? Zoro scoffs, “Y’er a fuckin’ lightweight, we could keep goin’”.
He didn’t realize he said it out loud. But he counters, “I could fuckin’ keep goin’, I jus’ don’ wanna. ‘Cause I’m smart”. Smart, because they’ll 100% have to drag Luffy back home. And it’s gonna be a little hard if they’re both blackout drunk.
Zoro clicks his tongue, “Y’er dumb” he remarks eloquently, sipping at… gods know what that is, but it’s blue.
The scene is somehow warm. The bastard is smiling softly at his drink, looking at ease for the first time in months. Last year, Sanji would’ve wasted no time to hit on every woman in this bar at least twice ‘til he went home with someone. Right now, though? Picking up anyone else is far from a priority. He’s fine right here. Wondering if Zoro’s good mood is just due to the booze, or if there’s something else on his mind.
At that moment, the moss-ball turns, catching his eye. “What?”
“What?” he questions back, confused.
“You’re starin’ at me funny” the Marimo mumbles, “You were thinkin’ I was a girl, weren’t you” he accuses, soft smile disappearing completely.
Shaking his head, Sanji frowns, “What?! I wasn’t!”
This makes Zoro huff bitterly. “What then? Why were you lookin’ at me like that? Do I have somethin’ on my face or somethin’?!” he demands, downing the entire glass in one gulp.
Clearing his throat, Sanji realizes he can’t exactly answer that question, so he simply turns to Luffy and sighs, “We need to get ‘im outta here… ‘fore he starts pukin’”.
Sighing heavily, the grass-ball gets up, mumbling “Knew it” and moving to drag Luffy off the booth.
They stumble out of the bar, a little confused now that the music isn’t assaulting their ears anymore. The cool air and the faint hum of cars somewhere far away gave their heads some much needed clarity. “Where to?” Zoro asks, turning to the cook with curious eyes.
“We go left and walk for like twenty minutes” Sanji chuckles, “This bastard really did fuck us over”.
Keeping up his more relaxed demeanor from the bar, the moss-ball genuinely chuckles too, “Poor bastard. I think he drank like four bottles. At least”. Woah, they really were shitty friends. But it had been funny as hell, and it was Ace’s idea. If anything, he was a bad brother. “Better start walkin’” the idiot says, and proceeds to walk… right…
“You gotta be kidding!” the blonde laughs louder, leading them all to the left. “I didn’t remember you being this stupid”.
Zoro huffs, “Maybe you can’t remember ‘cause you’re stupid, too”.
Just like that, with a couple idiotic immature remarks, their banter picked up traction like nothing else.
It was to the point that, when they both realized they were nearing Luffy’s apartment, they decided to walk the long route for no real reason. Just to have an excuse to keep talking their shit.
As soon as they passed a McDonald’s, Luffy stirred and begged in mumbled nonsense for them to get him some fries. When the mumbles became loud and obnoxious whining, they agreed. Mostly because Zoro said he’d pay for his five stupid fries and two nugget boxes.
While he was at it, Sanji joked about ‘if he was so rich, he could invite the cook to something as well’. To his surprise, this led to that bastard actually buying him something. Even when the blonde insisted he’d been kidding and he had no money to pay him back, it didn’t seem to matter…
In the ensuing argument, some important Zoro lore was learned. Namely: Zoro’s fucking rich. Like Richy McRich rich, you know? Well— technically his daddy’s rich. But same shit. He has one of those fancy shiny black credit cards and everything.
Sanji is in shock. “How the—?!” he scoffs, shoving fries in his mouth, “Weren’t you an orphan?!”
“He adopted me at like five, yeah. So?” Zoro shrugs, bristling.
“So you got adopted by a fucking billionaire?! Mihawk looks like a mercenary if anything, not a fucking billionaire!” the cook squawks, indignant.
This gets an amused huff out of the Marimo, “It’s not like he gives me cars and shit, I only have one credit card!”
‘Only’? Only?! “I have none, dipshit! Zero! Zilch! My salary is so unbelievably shit I’m not allowed to get a credit card, do you understand that?!” That piece of shit, he seems to find the cook’s freak out so funny. He has this soft little smirk that is driving Sanji crazy on top of everything.
“Come on, your family had money! Your mom was royalty, right?! You’re rich, too” Zoro tries to brush off, completely missing the point. The cook’s not gonna question how this asshole knows so much family lore, either.
“My mom was disinherited, dipshit, you knew that!” Sanji rolls his eyes, “And whatever money we used to have I never fucking saw it! What kind of unfair fucking swap is this?! You’re supposed to be the miserable broke bitch”. It was a tease, obviously, but one rooted in some truth. Zoro had never once acted like a rich person, so this was a shock and a half.
The bastard steals some fries from Luffy’s barely conscious grasp, “Come on, you’re doing fine”.
“I could do better ! If I had billions !” he laughs, “I could buy my own fucking restaurant for one!”
Zoro laughs. Honest to god laughs, “You’re not even outta cooking school!”
It makes him pathetically proud that he’s managed to get a laugh out of this cryptic moron. “I can still cook better than goddamned McDonald’s!” he protests.
“You can’t make better fries than this” the moss-ball smirks, raising a little bundle of them before shoving them in his mouth, “I double dare you, motherfucker”.
“If I manage to do that, you have to buy me a whole fucking restaurant” Sanji smirks smugly, knowing full well he’s just saying this ‘cause he wants to keep up the stupid banter.
The Marimo leans in, “If you manage to do that, I’ll—“ he turns to the side, smile disappearing, “Wait— where’s Luffy?”
Looking around, Sanji realizes they’re fucked. “Shit!”
They stumbled out of that restaurant as far as their drunk feet could manage. They found Luffy outside throwing everything up. As he straightened finally, he declared he wanted some more fries. Idiot.
This time, though, Sanji didn’t even stop the Marimo from fulfilling the stupid whim. Who cares anymore?! The bastard’s rich!
A couple more fries to—go later, they finally drag Luffy back to his and his brother’s apartment. They’re there in less than five minutes, which is disappointing. They had to, though. Sabo texted them that they had no fucking clue where their little brother was, and the cook texted back that they had him.
With a big smile, both brothers receive their sleepy Luffy, drunkenly chastising the brunette for getting drunk. Idiocy ran in the family, as did charm.
Zoro and Sanji watched on for a few seconds, smirking at the stupidly heartwarming scene and watching the brothers disappear into the building. Hearing the moss-ball sigh with finality felt… sobering. In a bad way.
“Well…” Sanji tries, not knowing what to say. Does this mean they’re going back to being weird? Not talking? Not even messing around like today?
Apparently so, because the Marimo doesn’t even spare him a glance as he turns East, muttering “See ya”.
This has got to be a joke. “Are you kidding me?”
Turning around, the moss-head stares in confusion, “What?”
Seriously?! How directionally stunted is this bastard?! “You’re going the wrong way” he states, hoping this will be enough of a push to have the idiot realize his mistake.
Head turning to where he was going, Zoro nods, “Right” and then starts walking South. His apartment is fucking North from here!
Grabbing Zoro by the collar, the cook makes an executive decision, “I’ll take you” he declares, wondering what kind of tumor could this idiot have in his brain to be this monumentally stupid with directions.
It wasn’t surprising that those first five minutes of walk were in complete silence. Sanji could kick himself, really. What did he think was gonna happen? What happened back there was the exception, not the rule.
Still, he couldn’t in good faith let this idiot get himself lost in the city and have to go retrieve him later somewhere in Europe. He’d just leave the idiot inside his stupid anpartment and walk off, that’s all. He’d do this for any other friend he had, it wasn’t that weird.
“I can take it from here” the moss-ball insisted.
Yeah, right. “No you can’t”.
That makes the cactus huff petulantly, “I’m not a child”. Ironic statement, really, given the huge immature pout on his face.
“A child would know their way better than you” Sanji remarks, trying his best to keep his tone lighthearted. He just gets a roll of eyes.
Now that he got to see the moss-dork from up close, it was a little sad to notice how uneasy and tense he seemed walking alone together. So was he being weird lately because of the cook? Sanji would sure as hell feel like a loser about that later, but right now, he was desperate for a distraction.
“I still can’t believe you’re rich” he comments offhandedly.
It was a good comeback, at least. It got the Marimo talking. “I’m not. Mihawk is, and he’s a fucking bastard about it” he clarifies, shaking his head with only the hint of a smirk lightening his words a little. “He wants me to go out there and make something of myself, so he doesn’t let me just use the fucking money for anything”.
Yeah, that sounds about par for the course when your dad is a scary guy with a glare that could literally give someone a heart attack. He just snorts in response.
“Asshole goes way too far!” Zoro explains, “He doesn’t even let me in the house unless it’s to train or sleep!” Woah. That sounds like… a lot. Mihawk must be a conscientious billionaire. Who would’ve thought. “Zeff’s a bastard, but I bet you a million berries he wouldn’t do that”.
It’s weird to say those kinds of things now when all the cook can wonder is if this idiot actually has a million berries to bet. “You’d gift me a million berries just like that?” he remarks sarcastically, “Zeff’s a bastard, period! He refuses to let me eat anything from the restaurant for free and he also refuses to buy groceries for home!”
Zoro blinks, “Where do you get your fancy bentos, then?”
Oops. He may have blabbed himself into a problem. There’s no fucking way this moss-ball’s gonna keep his mouth shut about this one, so he tries to deflect a little, “That’s for me to know” he replies, cheekily. “And if Zeff ever finds out, bury me without a casket. Just straight up put me in the ground. I don’t want the pieces of my body left to be in this world longer than they have to” he smirks.
The stupid overly graphic semi-joke makes Zoro crack a whole smile. He chuckles even. And at that point, it’s too damn hard not to smile back proudly, trying to lower his head to hide what most definitely felt like heart-eyes.
Sadly, he was too conspicuous. “What?” Zoro asks, quirking an eyebrow.
Fuck. “Nothin’” he replies, a little too quick. It causes the Marimo’s smile to drop completely.
“Right” Zoro sighs, “Forgot you’ve been really weird lately”.
Wait a minute- what?! “I’m being weird?! Weird about what?!”
“Seriously?” the grass-ball deadpans, but seeing the cook’s genuine confusion, he finally elaborates a little. “Any other night you would’ve gone home with ten chicks. Tonight you didn’t even turn to look at a girl. Not even once”.
Oh… he means that kinda weird.
When the silence stretches slightly, the Marimo keeps going. “You’ve been getting angry a lot less, you know? You just mope around every so often about gods know what” he shrugs, “You won’t even look me in the eye anymore. You used to be normal, at least”.
Shit, shit, shit… He really thought he’d been hiding it so well! He was almost certain no one else had picked up on anything!
After a pregnant pause, Zoro sighs, sticking his hands in his pockets, “Or maybe I’m just crazy”. He huffs bitterly before adding, “What would I know?”
Sanji really doesn’t know what to reply to that. He shrugs, floundering for words that refuse to come out for a solid minute. He’s desperate, he just wants the spotlight to be off him, so he deflects, “You’ve been acting weird, too”.
“No I haven’t” insists the idiot, as if he really hadn’t noticed his complete 180 in personality.
“You talk even less than before, you’re showing up to every single one of our hang-outs all of a sudden, and when’s the last time we even argued?!” Sanji lists, almost phrasing it as a genuine reproach. The pause that followed his statement told him all he needed to know. It was an intentional change in personality, at least. “Maybe we’re both crazy” the blonde tries, in an attempt to just leave it at that.
They keep walking in silence, both staring at the floor lost in thought.
“I have my reasons” Zoro interrupts his train of thought to say.
Blinking once, the cook asks, “Like?”
As if not expecting to be asked such a basic question, the moss-ball huffs defensive, “Reasons”. The flippant response infuriates Sanji. Why did he expect this idiot to actually share?! It’s not like he considers the cook a good close friend or anything. “What about you?”
It’s not as if he can actually just open up now, can he? “I have my reasons” he echoes with an empty intonation.
“Like?”
Sanji shrugs, “Reasons”.
Taking a deep breath, the Marimo muses, “Guess we’re both fucked”. His shoulders are hunched over now, hands visibly fisted in his pockets. Whatever it is he’s hiding, it must really be affecting him. It’s no surprise someone like Zoro would have trouble asking for help or whatever, but he really does hope this moron doesn’t wait ‘til it’s too late.
As some sort of reassurance, he offers, “At least your reasons aren’t stupid, suicidal and painful, right?” It couldn’t be any worse than unrequited feelings, that was for sure. Well- unless someone died or something.
“…Wrong” is all Zoro offers as they near his apartment building.
What an odd fucking night, seriously. “Eh…” he tries to dismiss lightheartedly, swallowing around the knot in his throat, “You’ll get over it”.
As they near the doors to the building, they slow down. The Marimo turns slightly more, eyes studying him, “And you won’t?”
They come to a complete stop. Sanji looks up, eyes sad as he musters up a smile that just looks like a pathetic press of lips. His eyes flit over grey ones before he lets out, “‘S not looking great” he confesses, turning around to walk away.
He has all of three seconds to resign himself to his night being over, when a firm hand grasps his bicep and pulls him back. This time around, Zoro’s voice has a tinge of desperation as he asks, “Is it a girl?”
What the— where the hell did that come from!? “Wh- NO! Let go of me!” he demands lowly, trying to get his arm free.
“Are you like- in love with someone?” the bastard asks, making the cook’s face immediately go red. Because how did he know?!
“How-?! What?!” he can’t understand what the fuck is going on. What did he say to get this interrogation?!
Reaching out to place his other hand on the cook’s shoulder, they’re face to face once again, and Sanji feels like he can’t escape. “You are, aren’t you? You’re in love with somone” he mumbles between them. Not so much a question as it was a confident statement.
Which alarmed the cook to no fucking end. He needed to get outta here. “Zoro! Let go of me dammit!” he screams, voice breaking out of sheer panic. The bastard just keeps staring, though, seeming to find what he’s looking for, because his hold relaxes a little.
“Curly what if…” the Marimo gulps, “What if our ‘reasons’ are the same?”
Uh… “What?!”
Before the cook can gather his thoughts enough to bolt outta there, Zoro takes a step forwards. His movement is slow, tentative, he’s observing how it goes. Alarmed at the sudden closeness, and at the way their chests quickly end up pressed together, Sanji has no idea how to react.
His hands lay flat on the Marimo’s chest. A mix of wanting to touch and wanting to push the bastard off. They stare at each other, and it feels like they both communicate a huge question mark between them. “Zoro…” the cook mumbles, breath hitching as he notes the cactus was leaning in.
As slow as he can, the green-haired moron decides to bring a hand up to cup his cheek and it’s starting to feel like this is… this is… what is this?! What’s happening right now?! The moss-ball is still staring as he moves, trying to be aware if Sanji wants to back off or pull away. But he doesn’t.
No, the cook leans in. He catches on to what’s happening and he moves to breach the inches between them, brushing their lips together momentarily. Maybe it’s the booze or whatever else that make the suspense bearable, ‘cause there’s a good sixty seconds in which they’re both paralyzed by what just happened.
But then? Then all hell breaks loose. Using his leverage, Zoro pulls the cook closer and brushes their lips again with firm intent, enthusiastically moving a few times to get a make out going. As the moss-head got lost in it, his hand kept gripping Sanji’s cheek with desperation.
Meanwhile, the blonde sneaks both arms up and around the Marimo’s neck, pulling them together further.
Months of desire crash down on Sanji all at once. His brain had only one mentality: take what you can get right now, ‘cause who knows what the hell is going on but it sure as hell ain’t happening again. He was greedy and desperate with his movements, relishing the way his cheek burned under the Marimo’s hand.
When that calloused hand found its way under the cook’s shirt, the violent shiver that followed was embarrassing. But he couldn’t quite help it. This was… everything . It didn’t matter that they were tipsy still, didn’t matter that it was nearly two in the morning. Nothing mattered. Nothing fucking mattered.
Zoro was kissing him.
Their exploration of each other is insistent, lips moving in tandem, tongues peaking out shyly. It’s evident this is Zoro’s first or second kiss. Who knows, but it’s adorably obvious he’s not that experienced. But the clumsy desperation makes things so much hotter, somehow. Quite honestly, Sanji himself was trembling with pure adrenaline, he doubted he was doing any better, he was just fucking hungry for it.
After what was probably enough time that it could be considered a very inappropriate display of affection in a fucking public street, they pull back. Zoro’s ragged breaths mingle with his own. The moss-ball gulps, and then “Sanji, I—“
The name itself nearly made the cook’s knees buckle. He couldn’t believe he was just called his actual name… and then they were interrupted by a cellphone. Sanji’s cellphone. And not with some random call, it was Zeff.
It was annoying, because after what happened with the blonde’s mom, he and Zeff have a pact that entails they MUST answer calls. At any time. Anywhere. Feeling like life is so unfair, he turns sad eyes at Zoro, “S-Sorry, I—“
“It’s fine” the moss-head nods, taking a step back.
Great. Zeff already ruined it. Taking the call, he’s immediately met with incessant yelling. He doesn’t even have to put it on speaker, he can hear it loud and clear. “It’s one in the fucking morning eggplant! What the hell is your problem?! I want you in this house in the next five minutes or I swear to the heavens I’m burning everything you fucking own and I’m demoting you to dishwasher for four months! Clock’s ticking!”
And the phone goes silent.
The Marimo sighs, “How far’s your place?”
“Fifteen… twenty? Something like that” he mumbles absently. He couldn’t care less. He could get demoted a whole year for all he cared. What he really wants to do right now, what he needs to do, is figure out what the ever loving hell was that just now?! “Zoro…” he starts, but words fail him.
Smiling in this shy way Zoro just shouldn’t be able to, the asshole shakes his head, “We can talk tomorrow. With more time”.
Looking up into grey eyes again, it must be embarrassingly obvious Sanji’s in a daze still, hypnotized by the tingling that took over his lips. “Right… tomorrow…” he echoes, struggling to understand the language.
Noticing the cook’s eyes are completely focused on his lips, the Marimo smirks, “So you gonna run now, or…?”
Barely aware of what they’re talking about, Sanji nods, “Sure, yeah…” he mumbles, mimicking on instinct that little smirk. After a tad too long just staring at those stupidly addicting lips, the cook shakes his head, “Shit!” Trying to snap out of it, he steps back, “Uh…” He can’t for the life of him find what to say. At all.
“Tomorrow” confirms Zoro.
What a fucking relief. Fuck! He’ll be able to have a re-do of this train wreck of a moment. Not only that, he’d get to talk about this. Tomorrow. With Zoro… they’d get to do this again. And again. And again. “Right” he smiles, “Tomorrow… definitely”.
Face going bright red for some reason, the Marimo just turns his head down, “Run, dipshit!”
Even with that, it still takes a second. Sanji’s stuck on that soft fond expression on the moss-ball’s face. When he manages to completely shake off the hold that moment had on him, he huffs a quiet “Shit” again before he turns and starts running.
Running… Skipping gleefully like an idiot… Same shit.