Chapter Text
“I think I am falling in love with you.”
Bubbles rose to the surface briefly reflecting his face. He held the sponge against the flat of one of the dirty plates inside the basin.
They had just finished supper. It had been even more loud and chaotic than typically as Luffy and Usopp decided to play catch the potato fry across the dining table. Eventually, both the idiots got kicked out of the galley after, in what felt like slow motion to some of them, a single fry had landed on the floor. The room went silent at that moment, and everyone looked at Sanji, already at his wits end before the game had even started, now essentially boiling over with rage.
He calmed down in the end after the two perpetrators got banished and the rest of the meal went on in relative peace.
The mealtimes on Thousand Sunny habitually ended in screaming matches or someone, usually Luffy, getting smacked across the head for behaving like a demon around food. However, while the potato fry-catapult debacle was nothing new to the cook, something did seem out of the ordinary.
The Moss-head was strangely not himself that evening. He didn’t even crack a smile when one of the fries ended up in the hollow of Brook’s left eye socket and Luffy, like a chameleon, shot his tongue out to retrieve it to the cacophony of laughter around them. Sanji had also noticed Zoro staring at him with an unreadable expression after he was done laughing ostensibly at something Nami had said. Unnerving.
Meal over, the two of them proceeded to clear out the messy table and prepare the dishes for washing after the rest of the crew had stumbled out of the galley thanking Sanji for the food as they got out.
Zoro remained silent throughout the procedure, but Sanji didn’t mind the quiet. Things had been... better between them as of late. Especially now, after Whole Cake when his past had almost caught up to him, something had clearly shifted in their relationship. The Plant-head was still a complete and utter idiot. Tactless, classless. Violent and brutish.
And yet...
Sanji wasn’t worried. At least that was what he kept telling himself. As he waited for the warm water to slowly fill up the sink, he sneaked a look at the other.
Motionless, Zoro stood at his usual spot at the kitchen counter waiting for the cook to start handing him wet dishes. In the past, Sanji might have not noticed that something was not right. He would have berated the swordsman for being too quiet and probably got them into an argument to at least get Zoro to start talking.
Nowadays, Sanji understood that there actually were times when igniting an argument between them wasn’t appropriate. He had realised that his short temper was more than sometimes at fault and he tried his best not to respond to the Swordsman’s taunts with immediate fury.
For a split second he considered just asking if everything was alright, but he decided against it, thinking himself silly for imagining something was off. Annoyed with himself for the conflicting thoughts swirling in his mind, Sanji continued with the chore in silence.
That is until it was suddenly broken, and not by the sounds of splashing water or the rustling of dishcloth.
“I think I am falling in love with you,” said Zoro with voice not unsure but lacking the usual strength of delivery.
Sanji gawked, brain suddenly empty of retort. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.
Zoro finally looked at him. Dark stare almost aggressive. Like he was prepared for Sanji to explode and fight him.
“Say something, Cook,” he challenged.
The seriousness of the dark eye revealed that this wasn’t some kind of joke or prank. Zoro, his biggest rival and partner in crime, had indeed just confessed to him.
“Please... just.” Sanji pulled the last plate out of the water and handed it to Zoro who put it down on the counter still sodden, eyes not leaving Sanji.
The silence stretched. Moments passed and Sanji still wouldn’t, or couldn’t, come up with anything appropriate to say.
“Cook, I swear —” began Zoro, annoyance bubbling in his voice.
“I don’t know what to say.” Sanji needed a cigarette. Bad. “I... I mean how? When? What are you saying, you dumb Moss-for-brains.” His voice trailed off without any conviction. That might have been the weakest his insult had ever landed.
In response, Zoro just shrugged, muscles tense. “I am telling the truth,” he offered, steady stare continuing to burn into Sanji. But the cook was not having it. Zoro had better start talking and explain himself soon.
“Did the moss on your head affect your brain functions? Actually, don’t answer that.” Sanji looked behind making sure the door to the dining room stayed closed. “Let me spell it out to you, what did you mean when you said you’re... uhm, you know?” He couldn’t make himself say it out loud. The heat on his face had already revealed his embarrassment. He clicked his tongue at the outlandishness of the situation while he waited for a response.
It took a lot out of Sanji not to smack the idiot on the head when he saw the typical signs of cogs turning in the Moss-head's brain. The green eyebrows furrowed, wrinkles appeared on the swordsman’s forehead and his mouth went crooked.
That moron had confessed to him without thinking over the situation at all. Sanji couldn’t believe it. His brow twitched dangerously but, finally, Zoro started talking.
“How am I supposed to explain something like this. I care about you.”
“Yes, no shit, we’re nakama.”
“No,” protested Zoro. “It’s more than that. You’re... I’ve always...” He continued stumbling with his words not making much sense. The worst part was, Sanji knew damn well he was being completely honest.
Zoro had never been particularly good at talking about his feelings, so, Sanji decided he would have to be the one to manage and direct this conversation forward. He let out an exasperated sigh and spoke:
“Okay. I understand,” he said, reaching for a cigarette as he leaned back on the utensil drawers, the chore entirely forgotten. Zoro’s eye never left him for a second. Sanji enjoyed the experience of the smoke calming him down for a few moments before continuing:
“Are you attracted to me?” Zoro’s face immediately flushed red, but he nodded fast.
“Alright,” continued Sanji. “So, you’re into guys?” Again, Zoro repeated the gesture, shifting on his feet slightly.
There was a brief pause after that. Zoro crossed his arms and continued staring. Sanji’s eyes wandered across the bulging forearm muscles to the massive bicep of the dumb swordsman; his mind caught in whirlpool of thought. What is even the point of looking like this? Ridiculous.
“And you think I am good looking?” asked Sanji, slowly realising he was about to have an out of body experience if this insane conversation continued.
Zoro’s face remained covered beet red as he complained:
“How many times are you going to have me repeat this? Yes, I’ve always thought you’re hot.”
“Always??” managed Sanji after hearing that absurd confession. There was no way in hell his head hadn’t been steaming at that moment, he felt hot all over.
Again, Zoro moved slightly, eyes briefly leaving Sanji’s face to instead start running up and down the Cook’s body.
“I’ve tried not to be attracted to you, I swear. But...” he ogled lecherously. “You have those long legs and your — " continued Zoro, red all over but not ceasing his honest review. His eye felt like a laser on Sanji’s body. Stripping, gawking.
“Okay, okay. I get it.” Sanji didn’t have a choice but to interrupt the Moss-head before he blurted out something even more embarrassing. He was suddenly very aware of himself. He folded his arms ready to ask more questions.
At that point, the door to the dining room opened and Usopp poked his head inside, breaking the tension with his intrusion.
“Why are you still here, guys? Are you all right?” He sounded curious more than worried, the gossip fiend he had always been.
“Get out!” “Not now!” barked both Sanji and Zoro in unison. It would be very unfortunate if anyone from the crew, but especially the Sniper, overheard their conversation.
The door closed behind Usopp who quickly left them back alone after having let out a quick yelp.
Suddenly conscious of the crew and the ship around them Sanji’s expression darkened as he spoke carefully:
“You know, in the past this conversation might have gone in a much different direction.”
Zoro sighed.
In hushed voice, like he wasn’t used to talking about himself like this, Zoro explained his struggle to come up to terms with his infatuation. How confused and angry he had been with himself when every time they fought, his attraction grew. Animosity transformed into desire which then became frustration and the cycle continued.
In the past, Sanji would not have been so receptive to the Swordsman. Excuses would have been made to end the conversation prematurely. Would Sanji make fun out of Zoro then? Out of his vulnerability? Probably. That would get them to fight and starting a fight was a perfect distraction to end the uncomfortable communication, to get his mind off his own confusing thoughts and repressed feelings.
However, the experiences he had had with the Straw Hats have matured him, he had battled his demons and came out victorious. Though, it wasn’t just about himself. Every passing day Sanji had spent with the crew cemented his respect and admiration for his amazing nakama. They were all fiercely strong and ever loyal. Sanji knew he could rely on and trust every single one of them. Luffy brought them together and under the Straw Hats jolly roger they had remained the best of companions.
Sanji observed Zoro as the Swordsman continued talking. Frequent pauses, ugh’s and agh’s, interrupted his word flow. Clearly, being so open and earnest didn’t come easy.
Zoro talked about how he had thought that it might upset not only Sanji if he confessed his feeling. How he was afraid the crew might not understand. That he might have to leave if his feelings somehow hindered the Star Hats’ goals by changing the dynamic on the ship making things awkward, confusing.
If selflessness had a colour, it would be green.
A part of Sanji wanted to argue with Zoro. Deny his words. Assure that everyone would understand. But he would be a hypocrite if he did. Sanji would rather die than to be the reason behind Straw Hats breaking apart. Obviously, Zoro felt the same.
“And yet you decided to confess, why?” asked Sanji, finally interfering with the Swordsman’s monologue.
“There is nothing in the world that can come between this crew. Between us,” Zoro answered, the unwavering conviction in his voice so like him. The radiating confidence made Sanji uneasy.
He was right, of course. There were so many moments in the months he had spent with the Straw Hats that he had thought would for sure mark the end of their adventures together. Unbeatable foes, fights between the crew, their own past experiences and traumas catching up.
Yet, they continued advancing. Stronger than ever. Always together.
Tiredness overcame Sanji. As much as he respected Zoro, he needed this conversation to end.
“I am not into men, Moss-head.” He was not looking at the Swordsman anymore. Instead, he played with his lighter and stared down, unsure what else to say.
“I know,” said Zoro quietly. “But that doesn’t matter. It’s me you have to be into. Not other men,” he continued with unbroken resolve.
Sanji shook his head, confused. Zoro would be the death of him.
“What are you saying? Are you not a man?”
"What? Yes, fuck, just look at me!” Begrudgingly, Sanji lifted his head and met Zoro’s eye. “None of this —” the Swordsman gesticulated around his crotch and Sanji gulped down hard. The Idiot had lost his mind. “— matters. I know you more than anyone, Cook. I will make you fall for me soon enough.”
Sanji felt like he was suspended in the air looking down at his body. His thoughts raced in a million different directions and all he could focus on, all that was grounding him was that sure eye. It posed a challenge, different from the one Sanj was accustomed to.
This unjustifiable confidence confused Sanji to no end. A minute ago, Zoro was stumbling over his words when discussing his feelings. Now, he assured Sanji would fall head over heels for Zoro in no time.
“... and if not? If I cannot?”
An annoying smile appeared on the swordsman’s face.
“Now that we have the bothersome part out of the way and you didn’t kick my head in —” said Zoro, misplaced nonchalance oozing from his voice. He had apparently chosen to ignore Sanji’s doubtful questions.
“— listen, you will be mine by the end of the week, Curly.”
If their lives were a cartoon, Sanji’s head would explode like a balloon. The embarrassment he was experiencing at this moment made his entire body flush like a tomato. His brain short-circuited. How dared that idiot say something so incredibly presumptuous with such determination.
Sanji started yelling. Gone were thoughts of compassion and understanding at Zoro’s emotional recollection of his past.
“Are you out of your mind, you dumb plant-brained ox?! YOURS?? My foot will be YOURS when I jam it up your ass! Are you trying to get a rise out of me?!” Sanji got in Zoro’s face completely forgoing any personal space decorum. One of his legs shot up and landed heavily on the countertop the swordsman was leaning against.
Zoro chuckled briefly seemingly completely unaffected.
“Shoes on furniture, huh? You seem upset, Twirly,” he taunted as his eye continued to assault Sanji with an unrelenting challenge.
There is about to be a green haired corpse in my kitchen.
Boiling with anger, Sanji pressed his forehead to the other man’s and hissed:
“One more word and I will shove all three of your DUMB swords in your DUMB ass, DUMBASS. You don’t know what you’re saying! AS IF, I could EVER fall in love with a brute like you.”
Zoro just lifted his eyebrows slightly but said nothing, to the Cook’s surprise. Instead, he waited not breaking their eye contact and that annoying smirk grew into a full-on toothy grin.
Sanji moved his head away after realising his unfortunate proximity to the Moss-head. Their bodies were mere centimetres apart and, with Sanji’s leg as it was, it almost appeared like he was straddling the other man. Suddenly, he had also felt two large hands leisurely going up and down his sides. Who knew how long they had been there.
“You’ve always had this sexy waist, Cook.” Zoro’s voice broke the trance and Sanji found himself recoiling with force as far away to the other side of the kitchen as possible.
“You can’t just —” heaved Sanji as his heart pounded rapidly in his chest.
“Me??” barked Zoro. “You practically jumped on top of me! God,” he messed his hair nervously and Sanji now noticed he was also flushed all over. Apparently, the swordsman wasn’t as unaffected as he had appeared.
“Do you even realise how hot you are when you get mad, Cook? Fuck, just, listen to me.” Zoro stood up straight and put his hands in his pockets. Sanji did his best to pretend the compliment didn’t affect him.
“I am sorry. I know this was a lot. I’ll give you some time to think and... just —,” he sounded increasingly frustrated with himself. Like he was mad he wasn’t able to vocalize his thoughts properly again. “Just, give me a chance, okay? We’re great together, you know that. We’ve always been.”
“We argue all the time, we’re rivals,” interjected Sanji, calmer now with a second cigarette in his mouth.
“Yes? I don’t like you despite our fights. I like you because we fight, Twirly. We complete each other.”
Overwhelmed, Sanji focused on inhaling the smoke. He didn’t know what to think. It felt like a mountain of information and feelings fell on top of him. He was still processing Zoro saying he would be his by the end of the week. That one phrase on a loop in his brain.
Zoro made him enraged, exhausted, confused but somehow also excited. Sanji had never had anyone confessing to him, complimenting him so... inappropriately. Strangely, he enjoyed it.
“Please, just leave,” he managed after a while. “My head is pounding.”
That was that. Zoro’s eye lingered on the Cook for a bit longer but after that he left the room without saying anything else.
Sanji let the silence lull him back into calm. He sighed heavily and forced himself to start working again. He extinguished the cigarette, proceeded to empty the ash tray and decided to finish up the dishes. After putting away all the clean plates and cutlery, he turned to the sink and pulled the rubber stopper out, staring blankly at his distorted reflection in the dirty water as it swirled down into the draining pipe.
These few past months had been the biggest roller-coaster of emotions in Sanji’s life and just when he was done dealing with family trauma and sorting out strained relationships between him and the rest of the crew, the Moss-head dropped on him what could only be described as a love bomb.
Sanji felt his cheeks burning up again.
After a quick glance at the door, he grabbed a wet cloth and started to scrub the wooden table in the middle of the room. Cleaning was a great way to clear out his mind and get back on track. Zoro must have told the others not to disturb him, and Sanji welcomed the rare moment of respite from some of his particularly boisterous crew members.
He used his fingernail to scrape an especially stuck parsley sauce stain that just wouldn’t go away and thought of the Swordsman again. There was no escaping Roronoa Zoro, was there? The Moss-head forever occupying his thoughts no matter how hard he tried to kick him out of his mind.
In retrospect, Sanji had already known Zoro was into guys. On their travels, they had met so many beautiful women that looked at the Swordsman like he was a sex deity. They practically drooled when staring at the idiot and pawed at his muscles. Even some of their enemies seemed like they had a thing for Zoro.
Sanji furrowed his eyebrows, suddenly very annoyed at the stupid stains on the stupid table.
But then again, Zoro never showed any interest in men either. Not in that way anyway.
Huh.
Sanji stopped and straightened his back, looking up. An image of the smirking swordsman passed his imagination.
Now that he thought about it, on many occasions, after they were done fighting, or sparring, or just shouting at each other, Zoro would look so... content. Sanji had always assumed it was because the stupid swordsman was proud of himself and, not unlike himself, enjoyed their battles. What if that was not it though? Not all of it at least.
Could it be that his rival had been taken with Sanji for much longer than he had let on?
Sanji recalled Moss-heads's flushed appearance. How sometimes, after they were done bickering, his eye would slowly move across Sanji’s face, often landing on the Cook’s lips.
Did he have nice lips? He had never considered that.
On top of that, Sanji could have sworn he sometimes saw Zoro adjust his trousers trying and failing to be sneaky about it after a particularly in-your-face brawl. At times, he had called out Moss-head for being a pervert just to be completely ignored, of course, or rarely get a barked-laugh answer and a simple ‘you wish, Cook’.
However, he couldn’t deny that their skirmishes had also an effect on his own body. After all, nothing made his blood flow better than a good fight. Yet... That never happened when he had fought others, their actual foes.
Only with Zoro.
Sanji threw the dirty washcloth across the room feeling suddenly very annoyed at his own discoveries.
So, what if his body reacted to the dumb idiot sometimes?! He was only a man! With needs! Needs that were practically never met!
He shuddered at the intrusive memory of Zoro’s hands running up and down his sides.
“What, the fuck, is happening?!” he yelled at no one. Did he cook with some strong aphrodisiac today? Was that it?
Hardly, dinner was potatoes and fish.
He forced himself to stop thinking and looked the galley over. Clean enough for now, other than the discarded dirty rag on the floor. Having sorted that out, he let out a long breath and put his face in his hands. He needed a bath. A long, hot bath was exactly it. He might even ask for Robin’s relaxing lavender oil and put a few drops in the water.
Perfect.
Seeing Robin-chan's and Nami-san's faces was precisely what he needed in order to forget about the green haired brute.
Once again, an image of Zoro’s face invaded him involuntarily. His traitorous brain wouldn't let him forget. Sanji smacked his head and let out a groan before opening the door and stepping outside the dining room.
It had been dark outside for a while now. Sanji didn’t realise how much time must have passed since the crew had had supper.
He hoped he didn’t make anyone worry by staying behind for so long. Anything outside the usual got noticed so quickly on the ship.
He couldn’t stand seeing pity in his Nakama expressions after Whole Cake and he would be damned if he let this Moss-head disaster have a similar effect.
At first, Sanji thought he was alone, not noticing anyone in the immediate vicinity but Luffy’s voice soon came booming from the front of the ship.
“Sanji! You're finally done!” His captain sat at his favourite spot atop Sunny’s figurehead, but his neck stretched all the way to the galley entrance, and he now grinned at Sanji from above. “I am so hungry... I BARELY ate today!” complained Luffy’s head. Sanji scowled. The image of his captain’s distended self was particularly eerie in the dim light of the ship surrounded by the quiet night sky.
“Can you not do that with your neck, you moron?” asked Sanji but Luffy only stuck his tongue out in response. “Didn’t you take a massive bowl of potato fries with you when you and Usopp got kicked out? What happened to that?”
Luffy’s face contorted in exaggerated outrage. “I need meat!” he complained. And then again, after the Cook had only shaken his head in response:
“Sanji! Meat!”
“You’re absolutely impossible. There’s a box of jerky by the sink in the kitchen,” he sighed. He knew there’s no winning when Luffy’s appetite called out. Also, he predicted this would happen, so he had deliberately left behind a few pieces of dry meat to hopefully satiate his captain for the night.
“Don’t bother trying to open the pantry! The padlock is made of seastone!” yelled Sanji from behind Luffy who was already opening the door to the galley having slingshot himself across the deck. He lied about the seastone but hopefully it would be enough to keep the hungry idiot from devouring their rations.
“Thank you, Sanji!” Off went Luffy without sparing another look at his crewmate.
Sanji shook his head and then mulled for a moment if he should go disturb Robin and Nami in their quarters at this hour to borrow the calming oil. He decided against it. The ever-perceptive women would certainly start wondering if something was wrong.
He didn’t need the oil anyway, he thought. The short conversation with Luffy had somehow made him feel calmer already. For better or worse, his time alone was always short and often interrupted. Sulking wasn’t tolerated on the ship, the crew made sure of it.
The night was chilly and quiet as he slowly made his way towards the stern of the ship where the library/bathroom tower was located. He passed the upper deck garden and opened the main door to the tower. There was no one inside, just more silence. The entire crew seemed to have gone to rest for the night.
Aside for Zoro, of course. Sanji sneaked a look behind at the lookout tower before closing the library door. The Swordsman was always the last one to go sleep as he kept watch during the night.
Stupid Moss.
The dumbass slept for only a few hours every night and then napped throughout the day because of it. While that happened, Sanji had often found himself sitting next to the sleeping Zoro, reading a book or having a drink. He didn’t mind. He sometimes felt like he owed it to the Swordsman to look over him as a thank you for always keeping watch. Needless to say, he would never admit that out loud.
Sanji climbed the ladder in the library and after squeezing through the hatch up top, he stood in the small, dry sector of the bathroom in the upper part of the stern tower. The actual bathing area door was closed, and, to his immediate dismay, there were three sheeted swords leaned against the wall near it.
Instantly, annoyance made his eyelids twitch.
He didn’t get a chance to collect his thoughts as a voice rang from behind the door:
“Cook? Come in I am almost done,” shouted Zoro. His voice conveyed nothing but maybe slight amusement.
Absolutely done with everything that had occurred that evening, Sanji barged inside the bathroom and stood at the door, staring daggers at the swordsman who looked back with curiosity. He faced Sanji with elbows perched outside the large circular bath supporting himself while sitting. Water actively dripped down his head and upper body. He must have just dunked beneath the surface before Sanji arrived.
His large chest was only half covered by the water, glistening in the faint light of the room.
“Why are you following me?” demanded Sanji not leaving his safe spot at the door. His mind suggested he ran.
“What are you saying Shitty-cook. I was here before you.”
“You obviously planned this!” accused Sanji. He cursed himself for leaving his cigarettes in the kitchen. He hadn’t thought he would need another one before sleep.
Zoro sank lower into the water that was now at his chin level. “Seriously, can we not?” he replied clearly trying to avoid a confrontation. “Just get in the water. I will be out of your hair soon, I promise,” he continued, submerging below the surface again and effectively cutting the conversation off.
As close as Sanji was to leaving at first, he quickly decided he would not. His stubbornness won. He needed his bath time and if it came to it, he would gladly kick Zoro out through the tower window without hesitation.
He closed the door and moved to the side of the room with a convenient semi-circular bench along the tower wall. He had always stripped and folded his clothes there. While unbuttoning his shirt he suddenly felt watched.
Indeed, the top of Zoro’s head, revealing only his eyes, periscoped above the surface of the water. Shameless.
Sanji paused, staring back for a moment. But the idiot didn’t relent. His green eyebrows shot up.
Another challenge.
So, it was on. Sanji continued to strip trying very hard not to show even a hint of embarrassment to the pervert watching him. Naturally, they had seen each other naked a myriad of times before. This was nothing out the ordinary. Yet, it felt entirely different.
Making sure all items of clothing had been properly folded, he at last got rid of his pink boxers and placed them neatly on top of the pile. Zoro’s own clothes lay scattered behind the tub.
Typical.
Sanji finally slid inside the large bath involuntarily letting out a small groan as his tense body reacted to the hot water.
The wolfish stare never once left him.
The swordsman slowly resurfaced, sitting and propping himself opposite of Sanji and shaking the water off his head like a wet dog. Sanji snared and was about to protest the water flying at him, but Zoro interrupted:
“Looking good, Cook,” he teased.
“Can you shut up?” hissed Sanji. “I came here to relax but, breaking news, a massive ogre decided it was his once-a-month bath time,” he jibed and stretched out his long legs while making sure to avoid any accidental touches.
Said ogre didn’t answer and kept quiet so Sanji closed his eyes and tried his best to get comfortable and enjoy the water.
The silence only lasted for a moment, though.
“Massive, huh?”
It took a lot out of Sanji not to instantly lunge at the other man and knock him out then and there. Instead, he kept his cool and responded innocently, eyes still shut and not looking at his rival:
“Don’t flatter yourself. That little moss mushroom isn’t impressing anyone, perv.”
This must have got to Zoro as his voice suddenly lacked all the bite and confidence from before and instead sounded quite offended. “Not little at all, Curly.”
Sanji shrugged ostensibly and continued:
“Dunno, looked pretty unimpressive to me.” He was proud of himself for finally leading the argument and getting under Zoro’s skin.
“Hmm.” Suspiciously, the Swordsman didn’t say much to his insults and after a moment Sanji began to worry that maybe the idiot was planning something.
He cracked open one eye just in time to see Zoro stand up straight. The water was to his knees now and as much as Sanji tried, he couldn’t stop himself from ogling.
It had always been incredibly annoying how muscular the swordsman was. Even now, just standing there idly and wiping his torso down with a fluffy towel embroidered with the Straw Hats jolly roger, his body coiled and bulged with raw strength all over.
God, what is the point of all this... mass.
Done drying his upper body, Zoro stepped out of the tub and turned around to wipe his tree-trunk legs. Sanji’s eyes slowly mapped the nude swordsman. His back was so wide he could probably easily hide two grown adults behind him and his ass looked so taut and firm that Sanji wondered if there was any softness to it at all.
There was nothing unimpressive about the swordsman’s body. The amount of hard work that went into it clearly visible to anyone with working eyes.
He sighed quietly and submerged more into the now more warm than hot water.
“You all right, Cook?” Zoro wore only his pants that stuck to the body in a revealing manner. The rest of his clothing was bundled up under his arm. He messed up his wet hair with the free hand; few dark green strands stuck to his forehead.
Maybe it was the relaxing bath affecting Sanji’s mood or the fact that he was mentally exhausted, but he found himself answering sincerely. “I don’t know,” he said looking down at his hands under the water. “Strange evening,” he added.
Zoro took a small step towards Sanji, and it felt like he was about to say something earnest but decided against it.
“Get some sleep, Curly,” he offered instead and then left the bathroom without saying much else.
The night stretched by the time Sanji was done bathing. Even though an unexpected guest had interrupted his time, he ultimately managed to relax and fully get his thoughts unscattered. The water in the tub flowed down the drain revealing a large open basin that Sanji proceeded to rinse off and wipe thoroughly. Afterwards, he got done with his nighttime routine and, finally, feeling suddenly very sleepy, he headed to the men’s quarters to end the day.
Light shone inside the crow’s nest high above the central deck of the Sunny when he stepped out of the library. Sanji noticed a shadow of a silhouette standing motionless inside, a statue guarding the crew’s sleep.
After a final inspection of the kitchen to make sure Luffy didn’t wipe out their storage, Sanji crossed the deck one last time that night, forcing himself not to look up again, and entered the men’s bunkhouse.
Sleep received him mere minutes after closing his eyes. Twisting and turning, he dreamt of a raging sea storm and a mighty whirlpool sucking his helpless body down the cold maw of the depths.
Still tired, he woke up before his usual 5 am start of the day. He groaned and stretched his limbs satisfyingly. The early morning light illuminated the room just enough for him to make out Zoro asleep in the bunk next to his. Nothing but peaceful stillness on the Swordsman’s face. Letting go of the last memories of the tumultuous dream, Sanji stared as the sleeping Zoro turned his head slightly. Faint sunlight reflected in the gold of his earrings danced along his neck and collarbone.
Suddenly frustrated and fully awake, Sanji got up to start his day and get away from Moss-head. He made the bed, brushed his teeth, got dressed, and soon after, worked in the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the still-asleep Straw Hats.