Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sound of music from inside the club is already emanating out into the street by the time  Sanji arrives, indicating that he’s gotten here later than he was supposed to. Still, given that he’d had to have been practically strong armed into coming at all, he figures that all parties involved should count this as a win.

Tipping the cab driver a little extra in the hopes that this might make him forget any potential sense of recognition, he takes a deep breath and climbs out of the car. Once there, he shifts nervously from foot to foot, eyeing the otherwise unremarkable front of the nightclub like it’s something that might bite him.

Bon Clay’s Cabaret is well known throughout the city, as much for its music as it is for the very specific clientele it tends to cater to. If word gets out that he was spotted here - which it very well may - it’s likely to go down like a lead balloon if He Who Shall Not Be Disobeyed finds out about it.

On the other hand, what else has he got to lose? Taking a cigarette out of his pocket, Sanji flicks open his favorite lighter and takes a heavy drag to try and steady his nerves. He then leans back and eyes the long line of people who’re standing outside the club, hoping to get in.

He continues smoking until the stick is practically down to the filter, and only then does he drop it to the ground and stub it out beneath his heel. After this, he takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and marches towards the much shorter line for VIP quests.

“Sanji Black.” He says when the line moves forward enough to find him eye to eye with the bouncer. “I should be on your list there.”

The bouncer barely spares him a second glance, far more interested in the tablet in his hands. As Sanji watches, the man scrolls through a slew of names with the tip of one manicured finger until he pulls the whole thing to a stop.

“Found him.” He says, nodding at another man who steps back to unhook the rope that’s barring the entrance to the club. Then they both gesture Sanji forward with a wave of their hands. “Enjoy your evening, Sir.”

“That’s the hope.” Sanji mutters as he brushes past. He thinks he hears a few murmurs startup behind him from the direction of the larger line, and hopes like hell that it’s just because people are jealous he’s getting in before them, and not because he’s been caught using a (sort of) fake last name.

Once he’s inside the building, the first thing he does is go to check his coat. While it had been a cool enough evening to require the wearing of one, like hell does he need it in here, not thanks to the press of bodies already moving inside.

He smiles at the woman who takes it from him, always one to be polite to the ladies, and easily accepts the tag she hands him so that he can find it again. Slipping said tag into the back pocket of his jeans - a delicate operation given how tight they are - he next asks her where he can find the VIP lounge, thanking her a second time when she tells him.

The man minding the door had pressed an ink stamp onto the back of his hand when he’d first entered the club, and he offers it up for show when he reaches the lounge. This bouncer, a large, muscular woman this time, eyes it carefully for a moment, but then shifts to wave him on through.

Pausing at the foot of the stairs that will take him up into the lounge, Sanji has a brief debate with himself before heading up. “I’m here to meet a friend.” He says, turning back to the woman. “I guess I could just text him, but I’m wondering if you might have seen him. His name’s Luffy. He’s about yay high with - ”

“Strawhat’s already here.” The woman says before he can finish his sentence, one of her hands trailing upwards to pat one of the two pink buns she has her hair styled in. “He went up maybe ten minutes ago, and I haven’t heard anything break yet. That’s probably a record for him.”

“Uh, right.” Sanji says weakly. He’d figured Luffy must spend a decent amount of time at this place when he’d mentioned being a friend of the owner, but Luffy’s also friends with pretty much everyone he’s ever met so he honestly hadn’t been sure how much to read into it. “I’ll, uh, just go find him then.”

“Sure.” The woman replies, a thin smile twisting her lips. 

Turning away from her, Sanji hustles up the stairs and into the lounge. It’s slightly quieter up here, which is nice, and a quick glance around shows him a row of cushy looking booths, several of which are still unoccupied, and a private bar at the far end of the space.

Since he doesn’t immediately spot Luffy, the bar is where he decides to head. He knows they’re supposed to be meeting a number of people tonight, but they’re all Luffy’s friends, meaning he won’t recognize them. A seat at the bar should give him a decent vantage point of his surroundings, and he can always text Luffy from there if need be.

He doesn’t recognize half the drink names that adorn the board off to one side, and therefore is going to assume that they’re unique to the establishment. He considers picking one at random, but in the end settles for a simple rum and coke for now. Maybe Luffy or one of his friends can give him some recommendations once they get here.

Accepting his drink with a nod and a quiet thanks, he brings the straw to his lips and takes a small sip. It’s good, definitely high quality stuff, and he nods again as he moves to turn away, wanting to face outwards so that he can see if Luffy’s reappeared yet.

It’s as he’s turning that he realizes another person is bearing down on the bar, and doing so in a manner where they’re not watching where they’re going. Sanji doesn’t get enough time to react, and the next thing he knows he’s being slammed into by a solid wall of muscle that not only sends his drink flying but also shoves his back into the counter of the bar.

“Fuck.” A deep voice grunts somewhere in the vicinity of his ear. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going, Blondie?”

“Me?” Sanji sputters, wringing his hands to try and get some of the booze off them, while at the same time realizing in dismay that his shirt has borne the brunt of the mess, meaning it’s likely a lost cause. “You hit me, not the other way around, asshole! What are you, blind?”

“Not quite.” Is the reply, and when Sanji looks over, he finds a muscular man of about his own height staring back at him who possesses three distinctly notable features - a shock of bright green hair, three gold earrings dangling from one ear, and a missing left eye.

Normally, Sanji would immediately be feeling contrite after accidentally putting his foot in his mouth this way. Tonight, however, he’s already primed to be on edge, and the way the man is smirking at him isn’t helping. Feeling his own lip curl in response, he shoves away from the bar he’s still pressed against and straightens to his full height.

“Get that look off your face before I wipe it away myself.” He snarls. “Also, I think you owe me both an apology and a new drink.”

To his complete mortification, the other man drags his gaze down the length of Sanji’s torso, which is now more exposed than he’d care to admit thanks to his soaking wet shirt. Then the man has the unmitigated gall to let out an appreciative whistle.

“I’ll get you the drink.” He agrees, his good eye going dark.  “But like hell do I have anything to apologize for, and I figure you’d have a hard time finding anyone in here to disagree.”

“Why you - !” His back going rigid, Sanji glares at the big bastard for all he’s worth. “You crass, boorish, uncultured cretin!” He spits. “As if I’d ever even consider, for so much as a goddamned second, stooping so low as to dabble with the likes of you.”

“Whoa there, Curls.” The man says, his infuriating smirk never so much as slipping as he raises his hands in a placating gesture. “All you had to do was say no if you’re not interested. There’s no need to be rude.”

“Rude? You want rude?” Sanji snarls. “How about we take this outside  and I show you rude by kicking your ass the way you deserve?”

Rather than flinch like Sanji’s expecting, the man’s grin gets even sharper, revealing a set of canines that are more pointed than average. “Hell, Curls. If that’s how you want to play it, why bother heading downstairs? I’m pretty sure I can take you right here.”

Behind them, Sanji hears an dismayed bleat that he suspects comes from the bartender, and there’s a voice yelling in the back of his head, one that sounds annoyingly like Zeff, telling him sternly that this is a terrible idea. He resolves to ignore it, however, and squares up into a fighting stance.

“Fucking bring it!” He snaps, only to recoil when the man moves with surprising speed for a person with all his bulk.

Several people shout in alarm when they collide, but Sanji pays them no mind. Twisting away when the man tries to pin him, he digs a knee into a rock solid solar plexus, grinning when his opponent lets out a ragged whoop as all the air is forced out of his lungs.

“Not so tough now, are you?” He taunts, moving to try and scramble out of reach.

He almost makes it, but then a large hand wraps around his ankle, dragging him down to the ground where the man is still doubled over with his eye watering. Not to be outdone, Sanji uses his newfound position to lash out and kick the man’s feet out from under him.

Again the man is surprisingly fast, but this time Sanji’s faster. Rolling sideways, he manages to evade a punch, and instead hooks his legs around the man’s shoulders, essentially pinning him with his thighs.

“If I squeeze hard enough, I can absolutely strangle you right here, right now.” Sanji hisses, contorting himself so he can stare at the other man in his increasingly red face. “So why don’t you give up, while you still can?”

Despite his precarious position, the man gives him another one of those sharp grins, as if he’s having the time of his life regardless of his circumstances. “It’s not over until I’m actually down for the count, Curls.” He rasps, one hand clawing futilely at Sanji’s legs.

This close, Sanji can see a number of nicks and scars on both the man’s hands, similar to the ones his own are decorated with from cooking, but not. Intrigued in spite of himself, he opens his mouth to say something, he’s not sure what, when a shadow looms over them and a familiar laugh rings out.

“Shishishi! Sanji, you made it! And hey, you found Zoro too. That’s great!”

Sanji and his opponent share a look, and then both turn to look upwards.

“Luffy?” They say in perfect unison. “When did you get here?”

*****

Somehow, security does not miraculously end up getting called. Sanji thinks he sees someone wearing a badge out of the corner of his eye at one point, but the person locks eyes with Luffy once everyone is back on their feet and disappears as quickly as they’d arrived. Sanji’s going to chalk that up to the strange aura that is Monkey D. Luffy and leave it at that.

And speaking of Luffy, the man in question is now animatedly talking to Sanji’s brand new nemesis, his bright eyes flashing as he asks for the details of their fight. 

“You two are so weird.” Luffy laughs once the whole sordid tale has come out, and he thumps his friend - Zoro, apparently. Sanji recognizes the name from most of the stories Luffy’s told him about his ‘crew’ - heavily on the back. “But I knew you’d get along well.”

“Sorry?” Sanji blinks. “This is your idea of people getting along well ?” He demands, his voice coming out more than a little strangled as he points an accusing finger in Zoro’s direction. “That asshole spilled an entire drink on me, and, rather than apologize like any civilized man would, he attacked me in the middle of the bar.”

“Hey, the fight was your idea!” Zoro retorts, rubbing one hand over his neck. Inwardly, Sanji hopes it’s because he’s got the mother of all kinks in it thanks to their tussle. “I just suggested a location, and you didn’t disagree.”

“I suggested that we at least take it outside.” Sanji protests, but all that happens is Luffy starts laughing again. “ Also , I’m still soaked thanks to you!”

“We’re in a fuckin’ nightclub.” Zoro replies, dropping his hand with a shrug. “Just take it off. No one’ll notice.”

“You disgust me.” Sanji says flatly. 

“Wow, I’m super shocked.”

“Okay, you guys!” Luffy pipes up. “I still want Sanji to meet everyone else, so you need to stop hogging each other and come back to the table. Or, I guess Zoro needs to come back, and Sanji needs to come for the first time.”

“I don’t know, Luffy.” Sanji says, holding his shirt away from his skin as best as he can and grimacing. “I don’t really want to sit around being wet and smelling like rum all night.” He says, wrinkling his nose. “Maybe I should just head home.”

“No way,” Luffy pouts. “It took me ages to convince you to come out at all. You can’t leave when you just got here. Hey, Zoro, how many shirts do you have on?”

“Uh, what?”

Luffy gives the green haired man an exasperated look, and starts tugging at the sleeve of the button down he’s wearing. “Do you have anything on underneath this?” He asks.

“Yeah? S’just a tank, though.”

“That’s fine.” Luffy says brightly. “You can give Sanji one of them to change into, and that way he won’t have to go home early. I bet Nami’ll say it’s the least you can do since you’re the one who spilled his drink in the first place.”

“For the record, that was absolutely an accident.” Zoro mutters, but as Sanji watches, he nevertheless starts undoing the buttons of his over shirt. “Fine, though. Which one do you want, Curls? The tank or the button down? You’re scrawny enough, the tank’s probably your better bet.”

“I am not wearing your clothes ,” Sanji says, appalled. “We met less than an hour ago, and you accosted me.”

In answer, Zoro slides out of his button down, revealing a spectacular pair of arms in the process, and then proceeds to strip off the tank top he has on under it as well. “Here.” He says, holding out both articles of clothing. “Pick one.”

Sanji means to respond with a properly scathing comeback, but what actually ends up coming out is something along the lines of “Hngh”. In his defence, there are now miles of tan skin on display mere inches away from him, coursing over sculpted muscle that not even the ghastly scar stretching from the man’s left shoulder to his right hip can manage to mar.

“Oi, Curls!” The sound of that insulting nickname jolts Sanji out of his stupor, causing him to blink. “Pick one.” Zoro repeats, shaking both shirts a little as their eyes meet. “I don’t care which, but I’m not gonna stand around shirtless for the rest of the night.”

“Oh, so you care when you’re the one in that predicament,” Sanji says weakly. Then he huffs in the face of Zoro and Luffy’s expectant stares. “Fine, give me the tank top. I’ll drown in a regular shirt designed for you.”

“S’what I figured.” Zoro says, tossing it at him. “Besides, the blue will suit you better.”

“Whatever,” Sanji mutters, hoping that the lighting of the nightclub is such that it’ll hide the flush he can feel creeping across his cheeks. “Where are the washrooms in this place?”

Luffy and Zoro promptly point in completely opposite directions from each other, causing Sanji to groan. “You two are like this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Ah, who cares?” Luffy says, waving a hand dismissively. “Just do what Zoro did and change right here.”

“It’s the principle of the thing.” Sanji starts to say, but both men simply give him incredulous looks. “ Fine .” He groans again, glancing around furtively to make sure no one’s paying him too much attention before he strips off his soaked shirt and swaps it for the tank top in record time.

“Not bad.” Zoro says, having the nerve to follow his words up with another low whistle. “You almost fill it out and everything.”

“Please go die.” Sanji says brightly, matching Zoro’s resulting toothy grin with one of his own.

“Shishishi!” Luffy quickly puts an end to their deranged staring contest by slapping them both heavily on the back. “I knew you two were going to get along perfectly. You’re going to be such great friends!”

“Now, come on, Sanji!” He adds before either of them can comment on this latest insane statement. “I want to introduce you to everybody else. We’ve got a booth over this way.”

Well versed in the unstoppable force that is Luffy when he puts his mind to something, Sanji doesn’t try to resist when the younger man shifts to grab him by the elbow and starts dragging him through the increasingly large crowd that’s starting to fill the space. Instead, he lets himself be hauled along in Luffy’s wake, only briefly stopping to crane his neck around to ensure that Zoro’s following them.

He is, and with little trouble at that. The crowd parts around him as he moves, no doubt because no one wants to get bowled over by a beast his size, and Sanji can’t help but notice that the other man is drawing more than one appreciative stare, probably because he hasn’t bothered to rebutton his shirt and is therefore moving with his bare chest exposed.

Rolling his eyes at the brutish display, Sanji turns his attention back to Luffy, determined to focus on something other than the idiot behind them.

When they inevitably come to a stop it’s in front of what has to be one of the largest booths in the room, which already contains a number of people - more specifically what looks like two couples and a fifth person crammed in between them.

“That’s Nami and Vivi!” Luffy says, excitedly pointing at a beautiful red haired woman who has an arm wrapped around an equally beautiful blue haired woman. The much younger man next to them is then introduced as Chopper, while the couple on the far end are listed as Kaya and Usopp.

Much like he had with Zoro, Sanji recognizes all of these names thanks to stories he’s heard from Luffy. He therefore nods at everyone in turn before shuffling into the booth next to Usopp, unsure of if he should be relieved or not when Luffy scrambles in after him.

Possibly to prevent any further mishaps, Zoro then goes to take a seat at the opposite end of the booth. He’s stopped, however, when Nami places a delicate looking hand on his chest that nevertheless sees the green haired man freeze in place.

“You,” the red head says accusingly, “were supposed to be getting us all drinks. I can’t help but notice that, not only have you come back sans beverages, but you also seem to have lost your shirt somewhere along the way.”

“Zoro, you didn’t tell me you were supposed to be getting stuff for people.” Luffy laughs, slapping a hand heavily on the table in front of him. “That’s so typical, though. You better tell Nami what made you forget, otherwise she’s going to tax you for it.”

“He spilled stuff all over Sanji and then they got in a fight.” The dark haired man adds, immediately making any potential contribution from Zoro moot. “Sanji had him in a chokehold when I got there, and then I made Zoro give him a shirt so he wouldn’t go home to change.”

A heavy silence descends over the table, but, much to Sanji’s chagrin, it’s more of an exasperated one than one containing any surprise whatsoever. Nami even goes so far as to roll her eyes before bringing her hands up to rub at her temples.

“You.” She starts again, and there’s a pause during which Sanji hears what sounds like someone being kicked under the table. “Are such an idiot. We’ve been waiting months for Luffy to bring Sanji around, and this is the kind of first impression you decide to make?”

“Hey, he’s the one who wanted to fight.” Zoro insists, slumping into a sulky looking pout when Nami glares at him. “I said sorry and everything when I first spilled his drink.”

“That is not exactly how I would put it.” Sanji says icily, shooting the other man a glare for good measure. “But enough of that.” He says, straightening in his seat and giving Nami a bright smile. “Mellorine, I’m absolutely flattered to hear that a lady such as yourself has been wanting to meet me. I can’t imagine what Luffy might have told you that had you so interested.”

“He says you’re a cook.” Zoro grunts, rudely interrupting Nami’s attempt at a reply. “More specifically, he says you’re the best cook in the whole world. Although, since we’ve all seen Luffy eat food off the ground, I’m not sure that’s saying much coming from him.”

“Hey, you’ve done that too!” Luffy cuts in, pointing a finger at him. “Remember the rice balls?”

“Ugh, do not tell that awful story again.” Nami says, making a face. “It’s disgusting.”

“Not to mention unsanitary.” Chopper notes, his own expression twisting into one of distaste.

“Right, that too.” Nami agrees. “Anyway, Zoro’s not wrong, Sanji. Luffy’s told us you’re a cook at a restaurant down by the waterfront, and he’s got nothing but good things to say about your stuff.”

“That’s because it’s incredible.” Luffy enthuses, his eyes glazing over as he seems to be remembering past meals. “Sanji’s the greatest cook I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m a chef ,” Sanji corrects. “Well. Sort of.” Honesty compels him to add. “It’s kind of complicated, and if it’s all the same to you guys, I don’t really feel like getting into it right now. Shall we maybe try and flag down a server to see if we can get those drinks we’re all missing?”

“Sure.” Nami agrees, and around the table heads start nodding at this plan. “Even better, how about we say the first round is on Zoro since he screwed up getting them once already.”

Sanji beams at her over the sound of Zoro’s offended protests. “Mellorine,” he sighs. “I think this may be the start of a beautiful friendship.”

*****

Against all odds, Sanji has a thoroughly enjoyable time out with Luffy and his friends, so much so that he finds himself surprisingly reluctant to return to his empty apartment once the night is through. Luffy’s crew (minus Zoro, of course) turn out to be just as fun as he’s described them, and Sanji misses the rambunctious camaraderie almost as soon as it’s gone.

Of course, Luffy insists that they’re going to drag him out with them again sometime, but Sanji brushes this off as yet another example of the younger man’s classic overenthusiasm. Most of these people have been a group for years, so he doubts they want to permanently throw a complete stranger into their midst.

Plus, going out the once was risky enough. If certain parties were to catch wind of where he’d been and who he’d been out with, he was bound to be in for the kind of backlash that contained lectures on propriety and the importance of maintaining a certain image. And that would only be if he got really lucky. Even after all these years and him putting as much separation in place as possible, reprimands still don’t always stop at just lectures.

Grim thoughts like that permeate Sanji’s consciousness over the next few days, ramping up even further when he’s due for his next shift at the Baratie . Zeff eyes him warily when he slinks in through the back entrance, clearly suspecting that something’s up, but all he does is toss an apron at him and tell him to get to his regular station.

Sanji loses himself in the act of cooking for a while, but unfortunately his temper is as primed as the rest of him to go off. About halfway through his shift he gets in a spat with Patty and Carne, one bad enough that Zeff decides to separate them rather than risk a repeat of the last time this had happened. Apparently he’s opposed to property damage, who knew?

“But why do I have to be the one who goes out front?” Sanji demands, scowling fiercely at where Patty and Carne are tittering in a nearby corner, no doubt enjoying the show. “I’m a better chef than the two of them combined!”

“Maybe.” Zeff grunts, causing Patty to glare and Carne to gasp in affront. “But you’re also the one who started the fight, so you get the heftier reprimand on the off chance you learn from your mistakes. Don’t worry, though.” He adds, shooting a glare of his own over his shoulder. “They won’t be getting off scot free either.”

The heavily implied threat makes the two older chefs go gratifyingly pale, but it’s not enough to fully soothe Sanji’s ire. “I’m not properly dressed for waiting tables.” He insists in a last ditch effort to be allowed to stay out back. “You’re going to get the restaurant weird reviews.”

“I think we’ll survive.” Zeff says dryly. “And you can switch your whites out for whatever you’ve got in your cubby before you go. Plus.” He pauses briefly, his mustache twitching the way it does when he’s got something serious to say. “That oddball with the straw hat is back again, and this time he’s brought friends. Go deal with them, would you?”

“Oh for fuck’s sakes.” Sanji groans, fully aware that he’s beat now. Zeff’s been on some bizarre quest to find him friends his own age ever since Luffy had started lurking around the Baratie , so he no doubt sees this assignment as a way to kill two birds with one stone. 

“You need to quit meddling in my personal life, old man.” Sanji informs him while he tugs irritably at the strings of his apron, struggling to release its hold on him. “I mean it, it’s got to stop.”

Zeff says nothing, but his unspoken response nevertheless comes through loud and clear. He’s been meddling in Sanji’s personal life, however implicitly, for over a decade now, and he’s not about to stop anytime soon. If Sanji weren’t so stubborn, he’d probably be grateful.

Letting out one last aggrieved sigh, Sanji shoves his way into the staff area so that he can go get changed. Once that’s taken care of, he grabs a pad and paper to take orders with, wishing not for the first time that Zeff would finally enter the modern era and let them switch to electronic devices instead.

He hears Luffy before he sees him, and follows the sound of the younger man’s laughter to the table that he usually commandeers for himself. Unlike every other time Luffy’s visited, though, this time he’s not alone. Nami, Usopp, and Zoro are with him today, all three of whom look up as he approaches.

“Sanji!” Luffy calls, waving an arm excitedly when he spots him. “There you are!”

Nami and Usopp let out polite greetings of their own, while Zoro leans back in his seat with the faint edges of a smirk lingering around his mouth. “Hey, Curls.” He drawls, giving Sanji a once over that’s just as obnoxious as the one in the club had been. “Love the suit.”

Reminding himself of where he is, Sanji does his best not to bristle. “As well you should,” he says coolly, gripping the pad in his hand hard enough that he’s surprised it doesn’t crumple. “I look fantastic in it, Mossball.”

Zoro lets out a sharp bark of laughter, his good eye flashing, and gives him a little touché gesture that Sanji refuses to feel charmed by. Then he leans even further back in his seat, tilting his chair precariously until Nami grabs it with an irritated huff.

“We’re in public .” She hisses, glaring at the man for all she’s worth. “And not only that, we’re in a nice place that I don’t want you idiots getting us kicked out of. Especially since that’s bound to cause trouble for poor Sanji, given that he works here. So, either at least pretend like you were listening all those times your father tried to drill manners through your thick skull, or I’m upping your debt.”

“Ugh, fine .” Righting his chair with a grunt, Zoro gives Nami a dirty look and crosses his formidable arms over his chest, the fabric of the shirt he’s wearing straining around his biceps. “You take all the fun out of everything.”

Sanji smacks him on the back of the head with his pad. “Don’t speak to a lady that way.” He scolds, repeating the motion when Zoro twists to stare at him incredulously. “It’s rude.”

“I’ll show you rude.” Zoro starts, his voice dropping low with promise.

“No, you won’t.” Nami says, punching him in the shoulder while Luffy laughs and Usopp sighs the sigh of a man who’s all too used to everything that’s happening here. “What you’re going to do is behave yourself so that we can have a nice meal. Sanji, you work here, obviously, what do you recommend we try?”

“Everything!” Luffy enthuses. “Sanji’s food is the best!”

“I’m off the line today.” Sanji notes, mildly chuffed when Luffy sags in disappointment. “But I can definitely offer you recommendations.”

As promised, he rattles off a number of options, and carefully jots down each of the quartet’s selections. Aside from a firm insistence for no dessert on Zoro’s part, they seem like a pretty easy bunch to please, so Sanji bustles back to the kitchen with their orders in tow.

He goes back and forth over the course of the afternoon, and if he hovers a little more pointedly around Luffy’s table, well, that’s just because the quartet are putting away so much food. Usopp and Nami showcase appetites that are typical of most customers, but Luffy’s in his usual role of a garbage disposal with feet and Zoro’s not far behind.

The crew are effusive in their compliments, even Zoro, who takes a particular liking to a rice dish that Sanji himself had designed for the menu, and they all insist that he make sure that the chefs working out back know how they feel.

“Yeah, and tell your dad I said hi.” Luffy says, barely pausing in the act of stripping the meat off a bone he’s snagged from Usopp’s plate. “Or I guess I could go back there and tell him myself if you think that would be better.”

“Absolutely not.” Sanji says sternly, while Nami reaches over to shake the younger man by the ear. Not for the first time, he doesn’t bother correcting Luffy on his parentage because he doesn’t want to answer whatever questions might crop up as a result. Therefore, he focuses on the more immediate problem. “You’ve been told in no uncertain terms to stay out of the kitchen, and I can’t promise that you won’t find a spatula shoved somewhere you don’t want it if you break the rules again.”

“Awww.” Sighing theatrically, Luffy moves to grab a spoonful of Zoro’s meal to comfort himself, and gets slapped for his troubles. “Mean!”

“You know I don’t share food.” The other man says, now waving his fork menacingly. “Shove off, or I swear I’ll stab you.”

“I’m sure there’s plenty more stuff still in the kitchen, Luffy.” Usopp adds, which, as far as distractions go is a pretty effective strategy. “You can always order something else.”

Luffy pauses, as if he’s actually bothering to consider this, and then turns to look at Sanji. “If I order something new, will you cook it?”

“Not today.” Sanji replies, almost as disappointed to give this answer as Luffy is to hear it. “But I’ll be back on the line for my next shift.”

Luffy brightens right away. “Well then we’ll just have to come back, won’t we?” He says, and based on the looks on his friends’ faces, Sanji suspects they’re currently resigning themselves to exactly that fate.

Trying not to let anything show on his own face, Sanji nods. “I guess you will.”

*****

And come back they do. Luffy’d already been in the process of making himself a regular at the Baratie before he’d dragged Sanji out the other night, and now he seems determined to do the same for everyone he’s ever met. Along with the original trio, plus the rest of the folks Sanji had met at the club, he drags various parties to the restaurant over the next few weeks - among them his two older brothers, a grumpy med student who would apparently like to be anywhere else, an elderly musician, and a married couple who teach at the local university.

That last pair are especially memorable thanks to her dark humor and his vibrant personality, but Usopp, Nami, and Zoro remain Luffy’s most regular companions. Some configuration of the three are usually with him when he comes, with his green haired right hand man being even more regular still. Sanji’s getting used to spotting them at their preferred table whenever he’s on shift, almost as if they’ve got a sixth sense for when he’s going to be working.

If Zeff’s annoyed by this new strain of rambunctious clientele he doesn’t show it, and instead almost seems to find them more amusing than anything else. He also encourages Sanji to spend time with them again outside of work, although he’s yet to agree to this out of concern for the consequences.

Zeff’s face darkens when Sanji mumbles something to that effect, but he wisely doesn’t protest. More aware than anyone of the risks Sanji’s already taking simply by showing up at his doorstep, the old chef knows when and when not to press.

Still, it does wear on Sanji, and he’s in a particularly maudlin mood one afternoon when he’s taking a break around the back of the restaurant, and an unexpected figure nearly stumbles over him as it blunders past. Barely sliding out of the way in time, he takes another drag from the cigarette he’s been enjoying, and glares at the interloper.

“What the hell are you doing out here, Mossball?” He demands, heaving an exasperated sigh. “The customer entrance is on the complete opposite end of the building.”

Looking suspicious, Zoro glances around their surroundings before turning to squint at Sanji. “Are you sure?” He asks, causing the blond to blink. “I could have sworn it was over here. Also, what are you doing? Don’t you know smoking’s bad for you? It’ll fuck up your lung capacity like nobody’s business.”

“Thanks for the lecture, Doc.” Sanji says, taking another pointed drag. “Nobody’s ever mentioned anything like that to me before.”

Rolling his good eye, Zoro adjusts the strap of the gym bag he has hooked around his shoulder and gives Sanji a scrutinizing look. “What’s up?” He asks, apropos of nothing. “You look even more like shit than usual.”

Sanji stares at him, the cigarette dangling from between two of his fingers. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re absolutely useless at showing any kind of sensitivity whatsoever?” He asks conversationally. 

“Yeah,” Zoro replies with an easy shrug. “Like half the crew, for sure, and my sister tells me crap like that all the time.”

“And have you ever thought of maybe listening to her when she speaks?” Sanji wants to know. “Or do you just blindly ignore all her valuable insights?”

“She’s my sister.” Zoro says, one corner of his mouth curling upwards in a grin. “What do you think?”

Sanji frowns, all his earlier feelings suddenly rushing back to him. “I don’t know.” He says, more honest than he normally would be with the other man. “I don’t exactly have a typical relationship with any of my siblings.”

Now it’s Zoro’s turn to blink, although it’s kind of hard to tell thanks to the missing eye. “Didn’t know you had siblings.” He says after a moment. “Are they all as annoying as you?”

Sanji’s frown turns into a full blown grimace. “Marimo,” he says tiredly. “I am easily the cream of the crop where my siblings are concerned. Probably where my whole family is concerned, in fact. Though, I’m sure they’d all vehemently disagree with that statement.” He mutters after the fact. 

Zoro gives him a long look, like he’s searching for something that Sanji very much doesn’t want him to see. “Your dad thinks the world of you.” He says bluntly, completely out of the blue. “So I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

It takes a moment of gaping at him in surprise to figure out what the other man is getting at, and Sanji has to basically pick his jaw up off the floor before he’s able to respond. “Zeff’s not my father.” He says weakly, still too shocked to evade the topic like he normally would. “He’s my, I don’t know what the fuck you’d call it. Boss, I guess. Maybe mentor.”

The explosive snort Zoro lets out has enough force behind it that Sanji very nearly recoils. “Bullshit.” He says, crossing his arms over his chest as he continues trying to stare Sanji down. “He acts like he’s your dad. I’ve seen him.”

“Yeah, well, I really couldn’t comment on that.” Sanji replies morosely. “Seeing as my actual biological donor thinks I’m a complete waste of space, I don’t exactly know what constitutes typical paternal behavior.”

Zoro’s eyebrows make a valiant bid for his hairline, and he starts eyeing Sanji like he’s a cornered animal who’s about to snap. “Are you alright?” He asks carefully. “You seem a little … tense.”

“I’m always tense.” Sanji snorts. “I am, in fact, a high strung lunatic with a lightning fast temper to match. Normally I’d blame that on my profession and tell you that all chefs are like that, but I’m not actually a chef so that’s a lie too.”

“You’re not a chef?” Zoro repeats, visibly floundering now. “But … you work here. And I’ve had your food. We all have. It’s really good.”

“ Moss ,” Sanji groans, half strangled at this point. “On the off chance that it somehow hasn’t occurred to you yet, I’m kind of in the middle of a bit of a meltdown, and I would deeply appreciate it if you’d leave me to it in peace.”

“No.” Zoro replies, firmly enough that the word manages to get through Sanji’s growing panic and causes him to sit up straight. “You’re acting weird, and not in a good way. I want to know why.”

“Why do you want to know why?” Sanji asks, part of him honestly curious. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough.” Zoro says. “And anything I don’t know is your fault because you keep turning Luffy down when he tries to get you to come hang out with us again. In fact, maybe I should go get him. He’s probably in the restaurant by now.”

“Don’t you dare!” Sanji yelps. It’s bad enough that Zoro of all people is seeing him melt down like this, he doesn’t need anymore witnesses. “I mean it. I’ll kick your ass again if you try.”

Zoro makes a scoffing sound. “You didn’t even kick my ass the first time around.” He insists. “I’d have gotten out of that hold you had me in on my own if Luffy hadn’t shown up.”

“Bullshit.”

“Maybe.” Zoro admits, allowing himself a tiny grin of acknowledgement. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to back off now, Curls. Either you talk to me, or you talk to everyone. Take your pick.”

Sanji stiffens, caught out by the ultimatum. “It’s none of your business.” He tries weakly. “It’s none of anybody ’s business.”

Zoro shrugs. “Too bad for you, I’m making it mine. Clock’s ticking, Cook. Which is it going to be, me or the crew?”

Realizing that he’s out of options, Sanji deflates. “Fine,” he says with a sigh. “I’ll talk. But not to everyone, and not here or even today. I’m working the rest of the evening, but I’m off tomorrow. What do you say we grab a coffee somewhere, and you can listen to my sob story where no one I know is bound to overhear?”

“Done.” Zoro agrees with surprising ease. “But if you don’t show, I’m coming back here during your next shift, and I’ll bring the entire crew with me. If you think Luffy’d be bad enough to deal with, just imagine what Chopper’s like when he gives you the sad puppy dog eyes.”

“I’d really rather not.” Sanji grunts, and goes back to his half forgotten cigarette.

Chapter Text

Sanji goes through the remainder of his shift like a man in a daze, to the point that Zeff keeps shooting suspicious looks at him from across their respective stations. He also avoids going out into the dining room where he knows Luffy and Zoro are now eating, afraid that the younger man will see something on his face and somehow know about the clandestine meeting he’s agreed to with his best friend.

Heading back to his apartment is no better. He winds up stress cleaning for most of the night, before he finally gives up the ghost and tries to get some sleep. However, all that does is see him toss and turn in bed, such that he makes a face when he sees himself in the mirror the next morning.

“That stupid cactus.” He groans, prodding at one of the matching dark circles under his eyes with a finger. “How can one man be the cause of so much unpleasantness? It’s practically unheard of.”

Of course, if he’s being honest with himself - something he maybe tries not to do that often - Zoro’s not so much the root cause of his problems, as he is a convenient outlet. After all, it wasn’t the green haired man who had put him in such a bad mood the day prior.

Not that specific green haired man anyway.

Grumbling under his breath, Sanji strips off the t-shirt he’d slept in and tosses it into the hamper he keeps by the sink, scowling when the bruise that currently covers his left shoulder becomes visible. In a certain light it almost looks like fingerprints, probably because that’s exactly what it is.

“Fucking Yonji.” He says now, a vision of his youngest brother’s smirking face swimming before his eyes. The dumb brute had murmured something about Judge instructing him not to let Sanji stray too far from the rest of them when he’d grabbed him, but his enjoyment in causing pain had been obvious to anyone who knew where to look.

“It’s not like they actually thought I was going to leave anyway.” Sanji mutters to himself, scrubbing tiredly at his face. “They know I always play nice at those stupid events and make it look like we’re all one big, happy family. Never mind that it’s a crock of shit.”

His bathroom mirror fails to offer up any helpful anecdotes, so Sanji sighs and goes to turn on the shower. He feels a little better as he stands under the water, the warm spray doing a decent job of washing away some of the tension he’s been carrying around for the past two days, and there’s almost a spring in his step when he goes to get dressed.

Given his plans to meet Zoro in only a couple of hours, he opts for only a small snack to tide him over, rather than a full blown meal for breakfast. He also indulges in his first smoke of the morning, quickly following it up with a few more due to nerves.

Part of him still can’t believe he’s agreed to this meeting, but he rationalizes it by telling himself that he hadn’t had a choice. At least if he meets Zoro one on one he has an opportunity to do damage control, to craft the narrative as it were. That’d be much harder to do if he were forced to face all of Luffy and his friends at once.

He keeps telling himself that right up until he reaches the cafe where he and Zoro have agreed to meet. Wanting to get a good seat with a decent vantage point, he’d deliberately gotten here early, but as the minutes slowly slip by and the clock eventually tells him that Zoro’s fifteen minutes late already, he’s starting to think he’s been stood up.

It’s at the exact moment that he tells himself enough is enough and he moves to stand up out of his chair that the little bell above the cafe door dings harshly. This turns out to be because of the sheer force that Zoro’s just shoved it open with, and surprise at seeing the other man’s flustered state drops Sanji back down into his seat without meaning to.

“You’re late.” Is the first thing he says when Zoro spots him and scrambles over within earshot. “Like, really late, Moss. I was just about to give up on you and head home.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Zoro insists, scrubbing a hand through his ridiculous hair as he drops down across from Sanji. “The streets around here are labeled like shit, so I ended up getting all turned around.”

Sanji manfully resists the urge to roll his eyes, but not the urge to glance pointedly out the large window near them, through which can easily be seen a tall post with a street sign prominently displayed. “If you say so.” He says dryly.

“Whatever.” Zoro grunts, the bridge of his nose flushing an hilarious splotchy red in colour. “Did you order anything yet? I’m starving.”

“I did not.” Sanji confirms, nodding at the sole glass of ice water that’s resting on the tabletop. “A lovely waitress dropped that off for me earlier while I was waiting, and she keeps swinging by to ask if she can get me anything else. I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m being stood up for a date.”

Zoro’s face gets somehow even redder, and now the flush spreads to the back of his neck. It’s almost funny enough to make up for his tardiness. “Look, I’m sorry, okay?” He mumbles. “It won’t happen again.”

“Mmm.” Sanji hums noncommittally, but rather than say anything further, he turns to flag down the aforementioned waitress.

Once they’ve placed their orders, he waits until the young lady has wandered off out of earshot, and then decides to grab the proverbial bull by the horns. “Alright, Moss.” He says, resting his arms on the table and clasping his hands in front of him. “You’re the one who dragged me out here, so let’s get this over with. What do you want to know?”

If Zoro’s taken aback by Sanji’s forwardness, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he barely bats an eye, and locks their gazes together with an intensity that makes Sanji nervous. “You were messed up when I saw you yesterday, why?”

“Because the day before that I’d been forced to spend several hours in close proximity with my extended family.” Sanji replies, proud of the way neither his voice nor his body shakes in saying as much. “I’m always a little out of sorts for a bit when that happens.”

Both of Zoro’s eyebrows shoot upwards the way they had the day before, but he does a good job of otherwise keeping his reactions under control. “So you were serious, then.” He says, slowly tilting his head to one side. “The old guy from the Baratie really isn’t your dad?”

Sanji takes a deep breath. “Zeff is,” he starts slowly, picking his words carefully, “probably the closest thing I’ve ever had to one in the traditional sense, if I’m being honest, but no. Biologically speaking, he and I have nothing tying us together.”

“But your bio dad’s still in the picture.” Zoro correctly surmises. “For some reason.”

“Trust me.” Sanji huffs as he prepares to bite the proverbial bullet. “No one is more disappointed about that than me. Does the name Vinsmoke Judge mean anything to you?”

If Zoro’s surprised by the abrupt change in topic, he doesn’t show it. In fact, he barely seems to react at all. “He’s an engineer turned businessman.” He says easily. “He’s got a company whose main focus these days is weapon’s manufacturing, with a side gig in genetic research, and he’s made some savvy deals that have paid off financially. He’s nouveau riche and a social climber who’s desperate to run in the same circles as people with old money. Despite the fact that they pretty much all look down on him across the board.”

Now it’s Sanji’s turn to raise his eyebrows in shock. “That is a remarkably accurate description.” He says, peering at the other man suspiciously. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but from what Luffy tells me you’re a gym rat whose sole purpose in life is swinging pointy objects around. Why the hell are you up to date on the life of a would-be socialite?”

“I’m not,” Zoro replies. “But my old man keeps up on that kind of stuff, and sometimes I get stuck listening to him bitch about it. He thinks Judge is a jumped up twerp with no dignity and even less class.”

“And in less than ten seconds your father has just supplanted you as my favorite Roronoa.” Sanji says. “Also, he’s hit the nail right on the head where Judge is concerned. Almost frighteningly so.”

“Yeah, he’s a decent judge of character for the most part,” Zoro mutters. “Now, what’s this Vinsmoke guy got to do with you?”

“You mean you haven’t figured it out yet?” Sanji asks. “I mean, we were talking about him right after I raised the issue of my very unpleasant biological father, sooo.” He drums the fingers of one hand against the table top as he gives the other man an expectant look.

He sees it the moment realization hits. Zoro’s previous blush, which up until this point had faded, returns with a vengeance, and he paws awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Oh.” He says weakly. “Sorry if what I said about him offended you?”

Sanji snorts. “Marimo, most of what comes out of your mouth offends me, but insults towards Judge never will. The same again goes for my trio of asshole brothers, who I guarantee I’ve already called every insult under the sun. I might be inclined to have words with you if you insult my sister, and I will straight up kill you if you say a single thing about my late mother, but the rest of them are fair game.”

“Uh, noted.” Zoro says, and Sanji can’t help but wonder if he’s realizing that he’s bitten off more than he can chew by initiating this conversation. “So, you guys don’t get along then.”

“Correction, we hate each other.” Sanji says flatly. “If it’d been me who died when I was eight and not my mother, I’m sure he would have celebrated. Privately, though. Obviously it wouldn’t do to let out anything that might hurt his public image.”

Zoro gives him a long look. “Okay, I’ve got that much, but what I don’t get is that you’re a grown adult now. Why are you still spending time with these people if they make you miserable?”

Sanji lets out a laugh that contains no viable humor. “And in one fell swoop, Mossball, you have hit the nail right on the head. I want out. I want out so bad I can taste it, but Judge won’t let me.”

“Why not?”

“Image.” Sanji replies flatly. “You said it yourself, Judge is a social climber. He’s like a little kid stuck outside with his face pressed up against the window, and he’s desperate to be playing with the big boys. He wants to run in the top, most elite circles, and having so much as a whiff of scandal around him would dash those hopes and dreams.”

Zoro’s quiet for a moment as he considers this, and in that time the waitress arrives with their initial drink orders. Sanji accepts his latte with a grateful smile, while Zoro takes his black coffee with a polite, if somewhat stiff, nod.

Sanji waits to see if he’ll add anything to the beverage to either sweeten it or cool it down, but isn’t overly surprised when Zoro does nothing of the sort. The other man does take an appreciative sip, but that’s it.

The two of them nurse their drinks for a minute or so, and in that time Sanji wonders if maybe some sort of spell has been broken. If Zoro’s going to let the rest of the subject drop. He’s out of luck, though, because eventually the other man sets his cup down and clears his throat.

“I guess I can sort of understand Vinsmoke’s whole thing of worrying that an estranged kid would constitute a scandal.” He says slowly. “What I don’t get is why the hell you’d care.”

“I don’t.” Sanji’s quick to assure him. “Honestly, I’d be perfectly fine to see the whole damn company, his beloved empire , burn to the ground.”

“So then leave.”

“I can’t.” Sanji says, shaking his head. “And before you get it into your head that it’s for some stupid reason like not wanting to lose access to his money or something, you can cut that shit out right now. I mean I physically can’t. He’s not willing to let me go, and he’s prepared to use any means necessary to keep me under his thumb.”

Zoro’s good eye narrows. “Define ‘any means’.” He suggests.

“No,” Sanji says. “That’s even less of your business than the rest of it is.”

Zoro looks at him. “You’re in trouble.” He says flatly. “Aren’t you?”

“Always.” Sanji replies, aiming for glib and positive that he misses. “Right now my best bet is to come when he calls, and to otherwise fly under the radar the rest of the time. What Judge doesn’t know won’t hurt him, and more importantly won’t hurt me.”

Zoro’s face takes on an alarmed cast. “Define ‘hurt’.” He says, more forcefully this time. “Curls, if you’re in trouble Luffy and I can - ”

“Do absolutely nothing.” Sanji says, holding up a hand to stop whatever uncharacteristic display of chivalry is about to come out of the other man’s mouth. “I can take care of myself.”

“Really? Because it sure doesn’t sound like it.” Zoro says, his expression turning incredulous. “What it sounds like is that you’re staying trapped in a miserable existence without trying to make the situation better.”

“Because there is nothing that will make it better.” Sanji says tiredly. “Don’t you think I’ve thought about it? That I haven’t considered scenario after scenario where I can change things. Judge has me right where he wants me, and there’s nothing I can do to break free. The only thing that would do it would be for him to let me go willingly, which will never, ever happen.”

“Why not?” Zoro demands, almost knocking over his half empty coffee cup as he leans forward. “What would it take for him to back off and leave you alone?”

“Honestly?” Sanji shrugs. “Pretty much the only thing I could come up with that might have a hope in hell of working would be to cause an even bigger scandal where keeping me around would be worse than cutting ties with me. Something where I could cut a deal with him and say that I’ll stop whatever I’m doing in exchange for him getting the fuck out of my life.”

“So do that then.” Zoro says, staring at him like he’s an idiot. “Go do whatever it takes to make him back off.”

“Like what?” Sanji asks tiredly. “I don’t actually have any ideas. The only thing I could think of was going public with my cooking because he hates that, is always telling me how it’s beneath me and trying to force me to stop. I’d be terrified of him going after Zeff and the Baratie , though. I can’t put them in the crossfire like that.”

“So find something else that you could.” Zoro insists. “Something he’d hate so much that’d he’d jump at the chance to get rid of you, but that he also couldn’t then turn around and take it out on.”

“There is nothing he couldn’t take it out on.” Sanji replies. “That’s the problem. Honestly, another thing that might work would be to strike up a relationship with the ‘wrong type of person’,” he adds, flashing an obnoxious set of air quotes, “but that would result in the same problem. Whoever I got involved with would wind up with a target on their back.”

He’s expecting Zoro to understand what he’s getting at here, but instead the other man sits up straighter in his seat. There’s also a strange glint in his eye that the blond isn’t sure he likes. “What would constitute the wrong sort of person?”

Sanji blinks. “What do you mean?”

Now Zoro gives him a look like he’s an idiot. “What would Judge consider to be the wrong sort of person?” He asks again. “Like, what would piss him off to the point that he’d rather see you off on your own, living as a chef, than with this person?”

“This strictly hypothetical person, you mean?” Sanji asks, and when Zoro nods, he shrugs. “Well, I suppose there’s all sorts of characteristics that might help. Someone Judge would consider to be lower class, for starters. Someone crass and unrefined, who didn’t know anything about proper social etiquette and didn’t care to learn. Someone who’d go around committing faux pas left, right, and center, and who either didn’t work at all or who had a career in something menial.”

“Like working at a gym most days and training for sporting events the rest?” Zoro asks, grinning suddenly in a way that makes Sanji’s stomach lurch.

“I … guess?” He says slowly. “I mean, yes, if I’m being honest he’d probably look down on an athlete, but I don’t know. Why do you ask?”

Zoro’s grin sharpens, and Sanji’s gut twists again.

“No.” He says preemptively. “No one would ever believe it.”

“The press would,” Zoro replies. “And even if they didn’t, they’d still print it, which would have the same effect. C’mon, Curls.” He cajoles, leaning over the table until he’s getting in Sanji’s personal space. “Are you telling me for one second that the top of Judge’s head wouldn’t blow off if you brought me home with you? Me? A crass, unrefined, man who’d tell him to his face what he thinks of him and wouldn’t give a damn about which fork to use during supper.”

“Oh, he’d hate it alright.” Sanji agrees weakly. “Especially, yeah, the whole part where you’re a guy. I’ve definitely kept my bisexuality on the down low for a reason, but there’s no way. On top of everything else, it’s not safe for you.”

Zoro snorts. “I can handle myself.” He declares. “And there’s nothing Judge can do to touch me.”

“Just think about it.” He adds when Sanji tries to stutter out a response. “That’s all I’m asking.”

*****

Despite these instructions, Sanji categorically refuses to think about anything of the sort. He’s always been a champion when it comes to things like avoidance and denial, so he puts those longstanding skills to good use and tucks that day in the cafe away out of his mind.

Unfortunately, he’s failed to account for the fact that Zoro might be the only person he’s ever met who’s as stubborn as he is. After the better part of a week has gone by without Sanji agreeing to make a decision, he finds himself abruptly interrupted during yet another one of his smoke breaks at the Baratie.

“Mosshead, I’m starting to believe that all those cracks Usopp and Nami like to make about your sense of direction are grounded in fact.” He manages to stutter out when Zoro rounds a corner near the back of the restaurant. “The main entrance is that way.” He adds, helpfully pointing with his free hand. “This door is for staff only, a group of which you are decidedly not a member of.”

“No shit.” Zoro grunts. “No offense, Cook, but I’ve got better things to do with my time than slave away over a hot stove all day.”

“And yet I’m offended anyway.” Sanji drawls, exhaling a cloud of smoke towards the other man after taking a fresh drag from his cigarette. “If you’re here to try and sell me on this crazy fake boyfriend scheme of yours again, you’re not off to a great start.”

“That’s fair. I generally make a pretty terrible significant other.” Zoro agrees with a lopsided grin. “But if you think about it, that makes me an even better candidate for the job, right?”

“Wrong,” Sanji corrects. “Mainly because there is no job. There is only you and the delusional world you seem to live in.”

“C’mon, Curls.” Zoro pleads. “Will you at least just think about it? Maybe I don’t look like it, but I could be the answer to your prayers.”

“More like something out of my nightmares,” Sanji corrects. “Besides, what would you even get out of this?”

“You mean aside from helping you out being the right thing to do?” Zoro asks, snickering when Sanji gives him a look . “Okay, fine. This Judge idiot sounds like a prime character to mess with, and it’ll have the added benefit of you owing me a favor. Isn’t that worth something?”

“No,” Sanji says, just to be contrary. “Plus, like I told you the other day, you’d be putting a target on your back, which I refuse to be responsible for. You’re annoying, but nobody deserves to face Judge’s wrath if they can avoid it.”

“I’m not scared of him, Curls.” Zoro says, more seriously now. “Whatever you think he can do to me, you’re wrong. I can take care of myself, and, if it comes down to it, I’ve got people of my own in my corner.”

“Not like this,” Sanji insists. “Not like him .”

“No, not like him.” Zoro agrees. “Better though.”

Letting out a ragged laugh, Sanji scrubs a tired hand through his hair. “This is insane. What you’re suggesting is absolutely insane. Never mind the fact that there’s no guarantee it’ll work.”

“Sure,” Zoro says with a philosophical shrug. “But you’ll never know if you don’t try. And if you do nothing, you’ll spend your whole life under Judge’s thumb, which sounds like it’ll suck absolute ass.”

“You have no idea.” Sanji says, laughing in spite of himself. “You’re serious, though? You really want to help me with this?”

“Like I said,” Zoro replies. “I like stirring shit up, and some crusty old rich dude who thinks I’m beneath him sounds like the perfect target. You can’t tell me you don’t want to see his reaction to me butting heads with him.”

“Maybe not.” Sanji says, willing to be honest about that much. Truthfully, one look at Zoro might be enough to see Judge drop dead of a heart attack if he thought for a moment that the younger man was getting anywhere near the Vinsmoke family name. 

On the other hand …

“It’s not just Judge you have to worry about, though.” Sanji explains. “He’s got all kinds of goons working for him. Plus, my brothers are … not nice people.”

“What’re they going to do? Try and beat me up?” Zoro asks, sounding unimpressed. “I can hold my own in a fight, Curls. You already saw that first hand.”

Sanji rolls his eyes. “For the last time, I won that fight.” He stresses. “I had you in a fucking chokehold, pinned and fighting to breathe. In what world does that constitute you holding your own?”

“That was one round.” Zoro replies, matching Sanji’s eyeroll with one of his own. “Swing by the gym I use sometime and I’ll be glad to put you in your place.”

“That’s not very gentlemanly of you, Marimo.” Sanji’s quick to retort. “I guess you weren’t kidding when you said you make a terrible boyfriend.”

“Nope,” Zoro says. “Now, why don’t you put your money where your mouth is and let me prove it to you. Give me a few days, maybe a week, and your old man will be begging you to get the hell out of his hair.”

“No.” Sanji says, and then immediately corrects himself. “I mean no to the timeline.” He clarifies. “God help me, I’m apparently going to agree to this insanity, but it’s going to take more than a week to pull off. If we want to convince Judge that you’re really a threat to his social clout, we’re going to have to play a long con here.”

“In fact.” He adds, his brain working furiously as he starts considering possibilities. “We should probably have a strategy session before we do anything further. What’s your schedule like for the rest of the week?”

Zoro shrugs. “Pretty open. I don’t have any tournaments coming up right away, so I can make my own hours as far as training goes.”

“Alright, give me your phone.” Sanji says. “I’m going to plug my number in and also give you my address. I’ve got a rare Saturday off this week, so you’re going to swing by my place and then we’ll come up with a plan of attack.”

“Do not,” he stresses as the other man silently hands his phone over, “be late. You got that?”

“Loud and clear.” Zoro replies with a smirk.

*****

The morning before Zoro’s due to stop by, Sanji stress cleans his apartment until it gleams, and then wonders why he’d bothered. The other man certainly doesn’t say anything about it when he steps inside, although he does toe off his shoes near the door without being asked which is a pleasant surprise.

“Nice place.” He comments as Sanji closes the door behind him. “Good lighting.”

“Uh, yeah.” Sanji agrees, flicking his gaze over to the large bay window built into the living room. “Honestly, that was one of the first things that drew me to it.”

“But you didn’t come here to discuss the decor of my apartment.” He adds, watching as Zoro continues shuffling around the space, clearly curious about his surroundings. “Or at least I certainly hope you didn’t.”

“Nah,” Zoro replies with an easy shrug. “I am one hundred percent here because you told me to be. So, lay it on me, Curls. What plan of attack have you come up with since I saw you last?”

“Well, I’d hardly call it a plan of attack.” Sanji mumbles, although part of him has been referring to it as exactly that in his head. “I just think it’s important for us both to be on the same page, is all. Plus, we should probably set some ground rules to be safe.”

“Like what?” Having finally completed his circuit of the main living area, Zoro drops down onto Sanji’s sofa. Spreading his arms along the back of it, he grins up at where the other man is still eyeing him warily from the front hallway. “Let me guess, no falling in love with each other and making things messy when it’s time to fake break up.”

Sanji scowls. “That much isn’t going to be a problem,” he says firmly. “At least not on my end. I guess you might have some trouble since I’m such a catch.”

“Oh yeah, because a bitchy, smart mouthed, chain smoking cook is exactly the boy my dad always dreamed of for me.” Zoro replies with another of those annoying smirks. “Don’t flatter yourself, Curls. I’ll be fine.”

Feeling his temper start to flare to life, Sanji plants his hands on his hips and glares down at the figure occupying his sofa. “This is exactly why we need to have further discussions about this stupid scheme of yours, and why it’s such a terrible idea. No one in their right mind is ever going to believe we’re attracted to each other.”

“Attraction isn’t going to be an issue.” Zoro retorts, thumping the back of the sofa with one hand. “My right eye still works fine, thanks.”

“You’re disgusting,” Sanji huffs. “And I hope you’re not expecting me to sleep with you as a kind of thank you for helping me out. Because that’s never going to happen.”

“Yeah, I’m not actually that sleazy, thanks.” Zoro says, his face twisting in a scowl of its own. “I said I’d help you out, and I will. No strings attached.”

Sanji holds his gaze for a long moment, searching for any sign of insincerity, and then nods. “Fine. In that case, move over so we can get this show on the road.”

Obediently, Zoro slides across the sofa until there’s enough room for Sanji to sit down. Taking his seat as directed, Sanji then reaches for the tablet he’d left resting on the coffee table, keying it to life with the press of a finger.

“Holy shit, you actually do have a plan of attack.” Zoro says incredulously, breaking out into a series of snickers when Sanji glares at him. “Curls, I swear, if I’m about to be looking at a spreadsheet or a full on PowerPoint presentation, I’m not gonna be responsible for my actions.”

“Must you be such an ass?” Sanji demands, his fingers dancing over the screen without him having to really look at what he’s doing. “There’s no presentation to be had, Mossball. I’m just calling up my calendar so that we can try and coordinate our schedules.”

“Oh.” Sounding a little put out in the face of Sanji’s logic, Zoro shrugs. “I guess that makes sense.”

“No shit.” Sanji mutters, letting out a sigh of relief when said calendar flares to life. “Okay, let’s start with the simplest thing, you work at a gym, right? Do you have a set schedule, or is it more of an on call basis?”

“Set schedule.” Zoro replies, rattling it off when Sanji gives him a pointed look. “And my training regimen is more of the same unless I’ve got a tournament coming up. In those cases I tend to ramp things up a little.”

“Fair enough.” Sanji says, figuring that makes sense. “When’s your next tournament?”

“‘Bout a month and a half from now.” Zoro says, pointing at the correct spot on the calendar. “But it’s a full weekend thing. So long as I keep winning my matches, I’ll be there for both days. For the record, I always win.”

“So Luffy tells me.” Sanji admits since he’s heard multiple tales from the younger man about Zoro’s prowess with his swords and how he’s going to be the best in the world someday. “I guess I’ll have to wait and see for myself.”

“Then you should come to that tournament.” Zoro suggests. “It’d be the proper boyfriend-y thing to do.”

“That’s not a word.” Sanji says primly. “But you have a valid point. I’ll book the time off from the Baratie so that Zeff doesn’t accidentally schedule me to work on those days.”

They go back and forth like that for the next little while, until Sanji has a decent feel for both their schedules over the next few months. For the most part things look like they’re going to sync up fairly well, although he can’t help but frown at the two specific instances in the timeline where he’s going to be dragged on outings with the Vinsmokes.

“You’re not coming to either of those.” He says, cutting Zoro off preemptively. “They’re too early in our acquaintance for Judge to see our relationship as a serious threat if he does a little digging. We need to create a - a paper trail basically, one that’s thorough enough to be believable. It’s going to take months, so if you’re having second thoughts about this, now’s the time to back out.”

“I don’t back down from a challenge.” Zoro says. “When I say I’m going to do something, I mean it.”

“Alright, but don’t say I didn’t give you plenty of opportunities to escape. Also,” he says in a rush, “we need to come up with a way for me to pay you back for all this.”

“Say what?” Zoro blinks. “What are you talking about?”

“ This .” Sanji says, gesturing first at his tablet and then at the two of them. “I can’t let you do all this for me and not have you get anything out of it. There must be something I can do to make it worth your while. And no, that was not a euphemism for sex.”

“Didn’t think it was.” Zoro grumbles, his cheeks flushed a deep crimson in color. “But I don’t need anything from you. I told you, sticking it to this Vinsmoke guy sounds worth it all on its own.”

“That’s commendable of you, Marimo,” Sanji says loftily. “Yet also completely unacceptable. What about,” he sits up a little straighter as an idea occurs to him. “These tournaments of yours, are there fees to compete?”

“Sure,” Zoro confirms with a shrug. “But - ”

“Let me cover them for you.” Sanji cuts him off. “From now until this is done.”

Zoro gapes at him. “They’re not cheap.” He insists. “And I can handle them on my own.”

“ Please ,” Sanji insists. “I know you think I’m being paranoid, but what you’re doing here? What you’re risking? You’ve got to let me make it up to you somehow. Helping you out with your tournaments is the least I could do.”

“I … can’t you just cook for me for free or something?” Zoro asks, looking flustered. “I really don’t need or want your money, Curls.”

“I’ll be cooking for you regardless.” Sanji says. “It’s the - ‘proper boyfriend-y’ thing to do.”

Zoro stares at him. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope.”

“ Ugh .” Scrubbing a hand over his face, Zoro flips back against the sofa with an exasperated huff. “ Fine . You can help out with my tournament fees for the next little while. But only the fees, alright? You’re not touching any of the other associated costs. Also the one I’m talking about is already covered so you’re going to have to wait for another opportunity.”

“I accept your terms,” Sanji decides. “And actually that’s perfect because it’s probably far enough away that it’ll be post-breakup time, which means I shouldn’t have to worry about Judge seeing the transaction in my account. Now I guess all that’s left is to figure out what to tell the others.”

“By others, I assume you mean Luffy and the crew?” At Sanji’s confirming nod, Zoro sighs. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. We’re going to need a cover story. Robin can keep a secret, but the rest of them are blabbermouths so telling them the truth is too risky.”

“Okay, well, we were going to need one of those regardless,” Sanji notes. “So, what is it?” He wonders, wracking his brain for a suitable idea. “Maybe … you apologized for starting that fight at Cabaret and offered to take me for drinks as a way to bury the hatchet? Then one thing just led to another.”

Zoro snorts. “Literally no one who knows me would believe I apologized for getting in a fight without being strong armed into it.” He says flatly. “It’d be an instant red flag.”

“So, what then?” Sanji huffs. “You challenged me to a second fight to try and even the score, and sparks flew while we were kicking the crap out of each other?”

Zoro grins at him. “Now that , they’d be much more likely to believe.”

Sanji stares back. “I hate you,” he says finally. “And also, if that’s the story we’re going with, I kicked your ass a second time, rather than you tying it up.”

“Aw, come on,” Zoro pouts. “I still bet I could take you if we went another round.”

“Well, we’re not doing that so you’re just going to have to use your imagination.” Sanji says, setting his table down on the coffee table since they seem to be nearing the end of their meeting. “And if I’m the one telling the story, I’m going to tell it my way.”

Rather than concede Sanji’s very reasonable point, Zoro twists around on the sofa, raking his gaze over the living room. “If we pushed the table right up against the couch, we’d probably have enough space.”

“To do wh - absolutely not!” Sanji says incredulously. “No way!”

Zoro gives him a look .

“I said no!”

The look deepens.

“ Mossball !”

*****

Sanji studiously maintains that he takes round two almost as solidly as he’d taken round one, but Zoro insists that the shiner that’s currently covering the blond’s right eye means that he’d won. Zoro’s an idiot, however, and Sanji’s sticking to his version of events.

Zeff makes the same distressed face he always does when Sanji shows up on his doorstep with bruises, but he quickly settles after a murmured conversation about this having nothing to do with the Vinsmokes for once. By the end, he sounds almost impressed that Sanji had found an unrelated sparring partner strong enough to land a hit on him.

“Sparring partner is probably not the best term to use,” Sanji replies. “But it was a decent bout, I guess.”

“Coming from you we both know that’s a ringing endorsement,” Zeff tells him. “Also, we’re short staffed today due a flu bug hitting the line, so I’m going to need you out front as well as back here. You can cover the kid’s table as a way for me to make it up to you.”

Having been about to open his mouth in protest, Sanji switches topics instead. Referring to Luffy’s preferred spot as ‘the kid’s table’ is something Zeff has started doing in recent months, for arguably good reasons. “Are any of them here today?”

“I wouldn’t have brought it up if they weren’t.” Zeff says. “Strawhat and Nami showed up first, then came the longnose and the little doctor, and finally the Cabbage showed up a half hour later than the rest. Somebody needs to get that boy a watch.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s less an inability to tell time and more significant issues with his sense of direction.” Sanji says, thinking back on the occasions when Zoro had wound up at the back of the restaurant rather than the front. “Either way, good to know. I’ll start mentally preparing myself for the sheer amount of food we’re about to go through.”

“I’d say we should appreciate the business, but Strawhat scares even me some days.” Zeff agrees. “Now, go get changed and get out there.”

Nodding, Sanji trundles off to do as he’s told. It takes him a minute to get situated, though, and by the time he enters the dining room, he’s greeted by the sound of Luffy loudly lamenting his imminent starvation, while Chopper and Usopp try to hush him.

“ - serious, Luffy, you’re not going to die. Heck, you had a snack like an hour ago. Besides - oh! Hey look, it’s Sanji! Hey, Sanji!” Relief heavily evident on his features, Usopp brightens as Sanji starts heading towards their table, eagerly waving him over. “Hey man, please tell me you’re here to put Luffy out of the rest of our miseries.”

“Heh, that is the idea.” Sanji replies, holding his pen and pad at the ready. “Let me guess, he’s wasting away before your very eyes, I take it?”

“Something like that.” Usopp grumbles. “Please feed him so he’ll shut up.”

“I was actually thinking I’d feed you all.” Sanji suggests, getting several noises of approval in response. “But Luffy, I’ll start with you. What can I get for you?”

“One of everything!”

“You can’t afford one of everything, moron.” Nami snaps, bumping Luffy none too gently on the back of the head. “Plus, that’s a damned rude thing to do to the staff here.”

“Fine.” Luffy sighs, looking put out for a moment before brightening almost immediately. “Something with lots of meat then!”

“One day you’re going to give me a more detailed request and on that day I may faint.” Sanji says, already scribbling down some ideas. “What about the rest of you? The usual?”

He gets a couple of different answers in response, but largely the choices fall in line with everyone’s typical palettes. Only when he gets to Zoro does he get a funny look that fades into a knowing smirk.

“How’s your eye?” The swordsman asks, and Sanji blinks, thrown by the apparent non sequitur. 

“It’s fine.” He says slowly, flipping his bangs up briefly so that the other man can get a decent look. “I iced it pretty quick, which seems to have kept the worst of the swelling down. The colours are pretty gnarly, though. I’ll give you that much.”

A couple people gasp around the table, with Chopper in particular leaning forward in agitation. “Let me see that.” He insists, refusing to take no for an answer when Sanji tries to tell him he’s fine. “It looks like it hurts.”

“Please, it’s just a scratch.” Sanji assures him. “The Mossball’s lucky he even managed to do that much damage.”

“Zoro did this?” Chopper screeches, appalled. Meanwhile, Nami’s currently giving Zoro the dirtiest look that Sanji’s ever seen on her face.

“Please tell me you didn’t start a fight to try and pick up where you two left off at Cabaret .” She says, her expression indicating that she thinks she already knows the answer. “ Please .”

Zoro grins sharply. “I dunno, Witch, you’re always telling me not to lie to you, so which would you rather in this instance.”

“It’s fine, Mellorine.” Sanji promises when Nami starts to get worked up. “Honesty compels me to admit that I fully agreed to his ridiculous suggestion when he put it forward.”

“When were you two even hanging out without the rest of us?” Usopp wants to know. “Also where were you hanging out without us? Please tell me you didn’t have a dustup in the alley behind the Baratie .”

“Actually, we were in the Cook’s living room.” Zoro supplies helpfully. “Though I think next time we should try going at it in an actual gym.”

“Going at it?!” Usopp repeats, sounding strangled.

“Next time?” Sanji zeros in on.

Zoro gives him a sunny smile in return. “I know you’re trying to convince people that you won the last round, but we both know that’s bullshit. That means we need a tiebreaker.”

“You’re an idiot.” Sanji informs. “Having said that.” He adds, sensing a prime opportunity to start laying some groundwork for their charade in front of the others. “Maybe I could be convinced if you promise to make it worth my while.”

Zoro matches Sanji’s smirk with one of his own. “Oh I can think of a few ideas.” He says, and Nami, Usopp, and Chopper’s heads start twisting back and forth as they take in the conversation. Luffy’s the only one who doesn’t look like he’s doing some sort of calculations in his head.

“What’s going on here?” Usopp asks warily. “You two are acting weird.”

“Nah,” Zoro says dismissively. “Curls and I have just been … getting to know each other better. Luffy said he figured we’d hit it off, remember?”

That’s news to Sanji, but since Luffy readily agrees with the statement he’s going to guess it’s true. “I totally said that.” Luffy confirms, his dark eyes sparkling. “Because Zoro and Sanji are both really strong and have so much in common.”

“You’re deranged.” Nami says, but there’s no denying the speculative glint in her eye as she sizes up Sanji and Zoro. “But maybe not completely off the mark in this instance. Sanji, please go get us our food if you wouldn’t mind. I think we need to talk to Zoro alone for a minute.”

“Good luck, Moss.” Sanji croons, rolling his eyes when Zoro gives him a two fingered salute. “Have fun handling dear Nami’s interrogation without me.”

“You should be worried about what I might tell her.” Zoro calls after him, but Sanji takes a deep breath and heads off, trying not to panic when he sees Nami and Usopp start insistently prodding at the other man out of the corner of his eye.

“Come on, Sanji.” He tells himself as he heads for the kitchen. “Remember, this is all part of the plan.”

Chapter Text

Sanji’s not sure what exactly Zoro tells the others, but no one looks particularly distressed when he returns a little while later with their orders, which he’s going to take as a good sign.

He goes about doling around the various plates, starting with Luffy in an attempt to keep him from stealing anything that doesn’t belong to him. He then continues his loop around the table, finally setting down a plate of steaming fish and rice in front of Zoro.

“Smells good.” The man says, sniffing appreciatively as he reaches for his fork. “Thanks, Curls.”

Across from him, Nami huffs out a quiet sigh from where she’s moving in on her fruit salad. “I see your newfound relationship status hasn’t changed how you two interact.” She says, popping a slice of cucumber into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

“Why would it?” Zoro asks, or tries to anyway. He’s already busy shoveling mouthfuls of food into his mouth, so the words come out decidedly garbled.

Seeing this, Sanji taps him lightly on the shoulder with his serving tray in reprimand. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, you animal.” He says when Zoro turns to look at him. “Especially not to a lady.”

“Thanks, Sanji, but I can handle him myself.” Nami says, and there’s a meaty thud under the table that can only be the sound of her heel connecting with Zoro’s shin. “After all,” she says, smirking when he grunts. “I’ve been doing it for years.”

“Be that as it may.” Sanji says, dipping his chin in acknowledgement of her point. “However, I’m here now, and I expect to see an improvement in his manners if he wants to keep it that way.”

In answer, Zoro sticks his tongue out at him, revealing a mass of half chewed rice that makes Sanji recoil. “That’s disgusting.” He hisses. “Stop it immediately.”

“You’ve got your work cut out for you where he’s concerned, Sanji.” Usopp says, saluting him with his glass as he watches Zoro close his mouth and swallow. “If his father and sister couldn’t wrangle him into submission, I’m not sure anybody can.”

That's the second time Sanji’s heard mention of Zoro having a sister, and the poor woman has his deepest condolences if this is what she has to put up with. He’s actually about to say something to that effect, when he’s interrupted by Luffy pausing in the middle of inhaling his food.

“Hey!” He says brightly. “I just realized, Sanji, if you and Zoro are together now, then you’ve got no excuse not to start hanging out with us more. Franky and Robin are having a party at their place next weekend. Zoro’s already going, so you totally should too.”

Caught out by the unexpected suggestion, Sanji shoots Zoro a look for help. It’s one thing for them to try and coordinate their schedules so they can meet up together and hope to make this whole farce look real, but it’s entirely another for him to impose himself on the man’s social circle.

Or so he thinks it is. Unexpectedly, Zoro just stares placidly back at him, before shrugging. “It’s up to the Cook.” He says, taking a swig from his own glass as he pauses in eating. “If he feels comfortable, I’ll bring him along.”

“Better yet,” Nami pipes up. “Why doesn’t he bring you along instead? That way we won’t have to send someone out looking for you when you inevitably get lost.”

“Oh yeah, that’s a much better plan.” Usopp agrees over the aggrieved noise Zoro lets out. “Which is a statement I’m making simply because it’s a fact, and not because I’m usually the one who gets sent to track him down.”

“No one needs to track me down.” Zoro gripes, scowling when his friends all laugh at him. “I always get where I’m going in the end.”

“Yeah, like three days late.” Luffy says, slapping the table in glee. “I think having Sanji bring you is a great idea. C’mon, Sanji, what do you say? You know you want to spend more time with us.”

“Just because you keep repeating a statement doesn’t necessarily make it true.” Sanji says dryly. “But fine. I’ll check my schedule, and if I’m not working, I’ll come.”

“You’re not.” Zoro says, momentarily startling Sanji with how certain he sounds. “You gave me your calendar, remember.”

“Oh. Right.” Sanji says, surprised that he’d actually bothered to memorize the thing, and blushing when Nami makes a cooing noise. “Then I guess it looks like we’re good.”

“Awesome!” Luffy crows, throwing his hands in the air like he’s just won a major victory. “It’s gonna be such a great time, and you’ll get to meet even more of our friends.”

“Awesome.” Sanji repeats, albeit with far less enthusiasm. “I can’t wait.

*****

It’s not that Sanji isn’t interested in having a social life that goes beyond his shifts at the Baratie . Indeed, his craving for companionship, especially companionship his own age that doesn’t routinely threaten to kick the crap out of him, was what had seen him strike up a conversation with Luffy the first day he’d shown up at the restaurant, and ultimately agree to meet him that fateful night at Cabaret . 

No, he’s all for expanding his social circle if possible. It’s just that doing so has never been a particularly safe endeavor for him, and he’s already treading lightly as he puts the opening stages of his and Zoro’s plan into motion. He doesn’t want to risk it all by moving too fast.

He tries to explain as much to Zoro when they meet for coffee a couple days before the party, but he can tell the other man doesn’t really get what he’s worried about. He suspects Zoro still hasn’t grasped the extent of the danger represented by the Vinsmokes, and no amount of warning seems to be having an effect.

Therefore not seeing a way out of an engagement he’s committed himself to - especially once Luffy, who’s gotten his hands on Sanji’s cellphone number thanks to Zoro, starts texting him incessantly about what a great time he’s going to have - Sanji finds himself standing in front of his closet on the night of the party, fretting about what to wear.

“Just, I dunno, wear whatever.” Zoro’s voice says from where Sanji’s got him on speakerphone. Sanji had finally caved and called him in a panic due to not wanting to make a bad first impression on whoever he was about to meet tonight. “You know, clothes.”

“‘Clothes’?” Sanji repeats, flashing a sarcastic set of air quotes even though the other man can’t see him. “That’s your brilliant suggestion, Marimo? Really? ‘Clothes’?”

“Well, I don’t know.” Zoro says, sounding defensive. “It’s not like I can see you right now. If you wanted me to be more helpful, you should’ve done a video call.”

“I can’t do that.” Sanji says, scowling first at the phone and then down at his own bare chest. “I’m in a state of undress.”

“Kinky.”

“Marimo!”

“Fine, fine.” Sighing like he thinks Sanji’s the most exhausting person on earth, Zoro goes quiet for a moment, like he’s actually considering his answer this time. “It’s just a bunch of people getting together at Franky and Robin’s.” He says finally. “It’s not anything fancy, and there’s probably going to be all kinds of different styles there. You know Luffy, he attracts people from all over.”

“I guess.” Sanji says dubiously. “What are you wearing?”

“Jeans and a henley.” Is the prompt reply. “Like I said, not anything fancy.”

“Okay, so do you think a blazer would be too much?” Sanji wonders.

“I mean, it’s up to you.” Zoro replies. “I’m sure you’d look good in it, but it might make you stand out more than you’re hoping. Plus, knowing Nami, there’s bound to be photographic evidence by the end of the night. She’s, like, addicted to instagram.”

“Shit.” Sanji says, lowering the shirt he’d been in the process of inspecting. “That’s a problem.”

“Nah.” Zoro says, his voice carrying easily through the phone. “If you tell her not to post anything with you in it, she’ll back off. Just make up some crap about how the relationship is too new or whatever to go public on social media.”

“You really think that’ll work?” Sanji asks.

“If it’s you asking, sure.” Zoro says, and Sanji can easily picture the teasing grin he probably has on his face right now. “She might post something out of spite if I ask, though.”

Sanji allows himself an amused snort. “Like you’d even care. From what I’ve seen, you barely have a social media presence, and I’m not sure you even know how to use what you’ve got.”

He’d looked Zoro up on most of the usual haunts, but to date all he’s come across is an Instagram account where the man hardly ever posts. He mainly seems to use it to watch accounts of people who build or use swords, although he’s randomly following an influencer who’s well known for her gothic aesthetic. Personally, Sanji’s inclined to think that one may have been an accident.

“That reminds me.” He says, his attention returning to the here and now. “We should probably link up and start following each other on Instagram at some point down the road. It’s another way we can lend credence to the whole situation.”

“Whatever you say, Curls.” Zoro replies, sounding unconcerned. “Are you done stressing about your clothes yet? Because, honestly, unless you show up naked, chances are good no one’s going to care.”

“Would it kill you to have a little class?” Sanji groans. Finally settling on a shirt he thinks will work, he slides it off the hanger and begins pulling it over his head.

“I thought my lack of class was the whole point?” Zoro asks, laughing when Sanji grumbles at him.

“That doesn’t mean you couldn’t put a little effort in.” He mutters as he struggles with the buttons of his shirt. “You could at least look like you’re trying to be a decent significant other.”

“Who says I’m not?” Zoro wonders. “I’ll have you know, there’s no holes in my jeans or stains on my shirt. That’s as classy as I get without being forced into it.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst.” Sanji sighs. “But okay, I think I’ve got the outfit situation sorted out. Just give me a bit to do something with my hair, and then I’ll meet you at the train station. You’re still good to head over together, right?”

“Yup.” Zoro confirms with a lazy drawl, and Sanji sends out a silent prayer that he won’t get lost on the way.

*****

Sanji can hear music coming from inside the house as they approach, but he forgets all about it when the front door is yanked open and they come face to face with an agitated looking Nami.

“Don’t you ever check your damn phone?” She asks, giving Zoro an exasperated look.

“I texted you when we left to head over.” The man protests, holding up his hands defensively. “Why would you need more than that?”

“Because Hiyori’s here.” Nami replies, an announcement that makes Zoro audibly groan. “If you’d bothered to look at your phone, you’d see that I was being nice and trying to give you a head’s up in advance.”

“Sorry?” Sanji says, his gaze darting back and forth between the two of them. “Who’s Hiyori?”

“She’s a friendly acquaintance of the crew.” Nami explains. “More of a friend of a friend situation since we mainly know her because her older brother is tight with Luffy. She’s nice enough, but she’s got a massive crush on Zoro and is totally oblivious to the fact that he’s not interested.”

“It’s the worst.” Zoro grunts. “I don’t want to hurt her feelings, but she’s always trying to hang off me whenever she’s around.”

“It’s … a little sad to watch.” Nami admits when Sanji glances at her for confirmation. “But hey,” she adds, brightening. “With you around tonight, maybe she’ll finally get a hint.”

“‘M pretty sure we could fuck in front of her and she still might not get it.” Zoro mutters, a statement that causes Sanji to flush bright red and stomp heavily on his foot. 

“What did I tell you about being crass?” He demands, meeting Zoro’s irritated glare head on. “Have some goddamned manners, would you?”

“I don’t do manners, Curls. Get that through your stupid head.”

“This is why they say romance is dead.” Nami sighs, stepping back so that they can both enter the house. “Anyway, I’ve done my good deed and warned you, so now I’m going to go track down my girlfriend before someone cons her into a game of beer pong that she will no doubt lose horribly at. Have fun kids!”

“Is Vivi really that bad at beer pong?” Sanji asks as they watch her walk away.

“Take whatever you’re imagining and make it at minimum three times worse.” Zoro says with a pained sigh. “It’s embarrassing to watch.”

“Well then.” Sanji says, never one to draw attention to a lady’s flaws. “Shall we find ourselves something to drink?”

“Sure. They’re probably set up in the kitchen, which is this way.”

Indifferent to Zoro’s confident tone, Sanji braces himself for an inadvertent tour of the home and isn’t disappointed. They wind up in the living room, the downstairs bathroom, and what appears to be someone’s office before they stumble across the kitchen. However, once they make it, they find that there’s all manner of selections available.

“Zoro-bro!” Franky cries after he’s spotted them from where he’s holding court by the kitchen island. “You made it! And you brought your beau with you, how’s it going Cook-bro?”

“Oh, uh, fine.” Sanji says giving an awkward wave when all eyes in the room turn to stare at him. Aside from Franky he doesn’t recognize anyone present, and he could really do without all the scrutiny.

Seemingly unaware of Sanji’s plight, Zoro strides forward until he reaches the spot where the bulk of the alcohol has been gathered. Selecting a beer that’s chilling in a bucket of ice for himself, he cranes his neck around to look at Sanji. “Is beer okay for you too, Curls? Or would you rather a different poison?”

“Beer’s fine.” Sanji replies, figuring it’s the easiest available option. He accepts the bottle Zoro offers him with a nod of thanks, noting absently how the other man cracks the seal of it for him before handing it over.

A low whistle rings out, and when Sanji turns his attention to the source of the sound, he finds a heavily muscled redhead with what almost looks like a lightning pattern of scars on his face and chest leering back at him. “I didn’t know Roronoa was seeing anyone.” He says, nudging the equally heavily muscled blond standing next to him. “Must be serious if he’s willing to share booze though.”

“Fuck off, Kid.” Zoro says, speaking up before Sanji even has a chance to open his mouth. “Why the hell are you here, anyway?”

“Strawhat invited us.” The redhead replies, nudging his companion more insistently this time. “And we never pass up a chance for free alcohol. Right, Killer?”

“Maybe you don’t.” The other man replies, sounding slightly tired. “Me, I could’ve done with a night in.”

“Ugh, babe, don’t be boring.” The redhead huffs. “We can sleep when we’re dead.”

It’s hard to tell thanks to the way the blond’s bangs cover a large portion of his face, but Sanji gets the sense that he’s rolling his eyes. Wondering if Zoro intends to stay and chat with the odd pair - or possibly Franky, who holds title as one of Luffy’s crew - he’s mildly relieved when the swordsman turns to leave the room instead.

“I take it you’re not a fan?” Sanji murmurs as they weave their way through the crowd of people in the hallway.

“Eh, Kid and Killer are alright.” Zoro replies with a shrug. “But Kid’s got the kind of big mouth that’ll have you wanting to kill him before the night’s out. I figure it’s better not to stick around and give him more ammunition.”

“Fair enough.” Sanji says, or tries to anyway. He’s interrupted by another body slamming into them, one that promptly tries to climb on Zoro’s back with a delighted crow.

“Zoro!” Shouts the shirtless man that Sanji vaguely recognizes as someone who’s visited the Baratie with Luffy once or twice. “You actually made it without someone having to send out a search party to come find you. I’m impressed.”

“Oh screw you, Ace.” Zoro says, but he’s laughing as he tries to free himself from the newcomer’s octopus-like hold. “Also, get off, would you? If you want to climb all over someone, go bug Yamato.”

“Can’t. He’s busy with a bunch of folks from the Kozuki Crew.” Ace - who Sanji now realizes is one of Luffy’s older brothers - says as Zoro finally manages to struggle out of his grip and dump him onto the floor. “When you do see him, you should thank him for keeping Momo’s sister distracted.”

“Whatever.” Zoro mutters, busy straightening out his shirt thanks to the way Ace’s manhandling has gotten it all out of place. “God, you’re as much of a spider monkey as your goddamned brother.”

“Maybe he is, but you’re not doing yourself any favors with the way you’re tugging at it.” Huffing in exasperation, Sanji steps around Ace, who winks at him, and bats Zoro’s hands away to replace them with his own.

It takes him the work of a moment to get the henley set to rights, and Sanji gives it one final pat as he pulls away, noting with some surprise how soft the fabric is. “Better?” He asks.

“Yeah, thanks.” Zoro replies, a ruddy splotch of color sitting high on the bridge of his nose. “Hey, Ace, you’ve met the cook, right? Pretty sure Luffy mentioned taking you and Sabo to the Baratie already.”

“He has indeed.” Ace confirms, flashing a wide grin for all to see. “Nice to see you again.”

“You too.” Sanji says, although he can’t help but feel like Ace is eyeing him up for some reason. “Is your other brother coming tonight?”

“You mean Sabo? Yeah, he’ll probably be around at some point.” Ace says with a shrug. “He’s tight with Robin.”

“The D brothers make friends wherever they go.” Zoro agrees, before adding pointedly. “And also enemies.”

“Touché.” Ace says, saluting genially. “Anyway, let’s talk about the elephant in the room, shall we? How’d you manage to bag this hot piece for yourself, Zoro? Luffy was extremely excited when he told me. He seems to think it’s somehow going to get him free food for life.”

“He would,” Zoro says with a snort that Sanji can’t help but find himself mimicking. “Also, screw you. I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Disappointing but not surprising.” Ace replies, and then claps the green haired man on the shoulder. “Oh well, I’m sure I’ll be hearing plenty about this in the days to come. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should probably go find my partner. Cheers!”

“I see word travels fast among your crew.”Sanji mumbles as they watch him wander off, slapping the back of a lanky blond haired man as he goes.

“That depends on who knows what.” Zoro mutters back. “In this instance because Nami and Usopp - the two biggest gossips around aside from maybe Brook - know, we’re pretty much open season for anyone who cares to look.”

“Don’t stress.” He adds when Sanji makes a face. “It’ll probably only help things in the long run.”

“Not if it spreads too far too fast.” Sanji replies, but he does his best to shrug it off. What’s done is done and Zoro’s got a point. This will all have to come out eventually, and at least for now it’s contained to the other man’s friend group.

They continue making their way through the house, ultimately ending up sitting side by side on a couch in the living room. Multiple people make their way past as they nurse their drinks, with a few stopping to talk to Zoro before moving on again.

Sanji’s just about to suggest they go try to find Luffy or some of the others when there’s a flurry of activity by the door. Looking up, he finds himself staring at a beautiful woman with teal coloured hair who doesn’t seem to have a clue that he’s in the room. Her face set in a winsome smile, she shakes her way free from her tittering group of friends, and zeroes in on Zoro.

“ Shit .” The swordsman mutters under his breath, more to his bottle of beer than to anyone else. 

Figuring he’s safe in assuming this is none other than Hiyori, Sanji watches as the woman continues her approach, honestly impressed when she doesn’t flinch in the face of the flat stare she’s greeted with. “Hi, Zoro!” She says brightly. “When did you get here?”

“Hey,” Zoro replies dully, barely bothering to acknowledge the poor girl despite the scowl Sanji sends his way for being rude. “And, I dunno, when’d we get here, Cook? Maybe half an hour ago?”

“Something like that.” Sanji agrees, leaning over to offer the woman his hand. “Sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met, and this big lug here isn’t great at introductions. I’m Sanji, and you are?”

“Oh!” The woman startles, but takes his hand regardless. “Hiyori.” She says, effectively confirming his suspicions. “Kozuki Hiyori.”

“Charmed, I’m sure.” Sanji says, giving her a bright smile. He then leans back in his seat, and, in a show of overexaggerated movement, curls the same arm he’d offered up around Zoro’s shoulders, its placement anything but accidental. “How do you know this clown, then?”

“Through Luffy.” Zoro grunts. He’s sitting somewhat awkwardly where he’s next to Sanji, but that’s nothing compared to poor Hiyori, who now has a brilliant red flush sitting high on her cheeks. 

“I should’ve known.” Sanji replies glibly, giving Zoro a little shake in an attempt to get him to play along better. “That one’s got a knack for bringing people together. After all, just look at us.”

Zoro snorts, but there’s genuine humor in it this time and amusement lurking around the corner of his mouth when he twists to glance at Sanji. “You’re such a shit.” He says, grinning faintly. 

“Takes one to know one, dear.” Sanji says, batting his eyes for added effect. “Am I right?”

“No.” Zoro says. Turning back to their companion, he nods at her. “Sorry about him. His manners are absolute crap.”

“You liar!” Sanji retorts, swatting at him playfully with his free hand. “My manners are impeccable, thank you very much. It’s yours that are practically nonexistent.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

As if they’re working in perfect sync, the two of them soon engage in a halfhearted shoving match that only stops when Hiyori loudly clears her throat.

“Anyway!” She says, a little desperately and definitely too brightly when they both turn to look at her. “Zoro, I heard you were here and wanted to come say hi. You’re obviously busy, though, so I should get back to my friends.”

“Sure.” Zoro agrees, and at least he has the common decency not to say anything to make matters worse for the furiously blushing woman. He simply nods as she leaves, and then sinks back into the couch cushions with a sigh.

“Curls,” he says heavily. “I think tonight alone just paid for this little plot of ours. Screw the bit about helping with my tournaments, you just became worth your weight in gold for scaring her off.”

“Don’t be a cad, Marimo.” Sanji says, nudging him pointedly in the shoulder. “The poor lady was mortified.”

“Then the poor lady should have taken a hint the dozen times I already ignored her awful flirting.” Zoro retorts, earning himself another nudge. “Quit it.”

Sanji sighs, but nevertheless relents. 

*****

The rest of the party goes smoothly, and by the end of the night Sanji chalks it up as their first successful outing as a ‘couple’. No one present seems to have any issue with them, and on the whole they don’t appear to be a source of excessive gossip.

Relieved that their scheme can therefore continue on at the pace he’d been hoping for, Sanji turns his mind to other possible activities they might be able to get up to.

Keep it simple , he eventually decides. He can start out small and build up to things as they go along. Furthermore, given his choice of profession, starting out small comes with an easy enough idea.

Zeff eyes him with mild confusion when he sticks around after the completion of an early afternoon shift. Feeling the old man’s gaze on him as he puts together a bento box of rice and meat causes Sanji’s shoulders to hunch up around his ears, and eventually he cracks under the scrutiny.

“What?” He asks, his voice pitching slightly higher than normal when he cranes his neck around to pierce his mentor with a look . “Have I got something on my face?”

Zeff snorts, seemingly indifferent to this display of temper. “The only confusing thing about your face at the moment is the fact that it’s still here.” He says mildly, meeting Sanji’s narrow eyed stare with a blank one of his own. “What are you up to, Eggplant?”

“Never you mind what I’m up to.” Sanji declares loftily, turning back to his work. “And don’t call me that. It’s childish, and I’m a grown man.”

“That’s debatable,” Zeff retorts, “but fine, keep your secrets. I’m sure you’ll cave and tell me eventually.”

“We’ll see about that.” Sanji mutters, only to find that he’s talking to empty air. Apparently having decided that he’s got better things to do than stick around and harass him, Zeff’s wandered off in the direction of the glorified supply closet he calls an office.

“Nosy old geezer.” Sanji mutters when he hears the door close with a pointed click. “You’d think at his age he’d have learned to mind his own business.”

No other members of the staff opt to add to this commentary, so he takes the ensuing silence as an opportunity to finish what he’s doing. It takes him only a few more minutes to complete his chosen task, after which he tidies up his station and exits the restaurant with his package safely tucked under his arm.

The gym where Zoro works and trains isn’t exactly close to the spot where the Baratie is located, so it takes him some time to get there. Luckily, said gym isn’t far from a major subway stop, so once he’s finished his ride the rest of the trip passes relatively quickly.

There’s a young woman sitting behind the receptionist’s desk when he enters, looking like she’s paying more attention to something on her phone than her actual job. Sanji has to clear his throat loudly to get her attention, and she eyes him almost warily when she looks up.

“Can I help you?” She asks, sounding annoyed at being taken away from whatever was holding her interest.

“I hope so.” He replies, smiling brightly down at her. “I’m looking for Roronoa Zoro. Is there any chance you could tell me where to find him?”

Rather than looking mollified by his request, the woman winds up seeming even more irked. “His hour long class started over fifty five minutes ago. If you’re here for that it’s safe to say you’ve missed it, and he’s not keen on doing makeup classes unless you have a good reason for missing the first one.”

“Oh, I’m not a client.” Sanji says in a rush, realizing now what the source of the misunderstanding is. “I’m his … uh. Yeah.”

“His?” The woman echoes, drawing the word out longer than it needs to be. Then her eyes narrow, and she flicks her gaze up and down the length of his body in a way that makes Sanji flush. “ Oh .” She says, sounding much more relaxed now. “Yeah, alright. Take the stairs there up to the second floor, and then hang a left at the first hallway. He should be in the room that’s the third door down.”

“Thanks.” Sanji says, carefully adjusting the containers in his arms as he steps back from the desk. “I really appreciate it.”

“Uh huh.” The woman watches him back away, but it seems even his presence can only hold her interest for so long. Right before he moves to start climbing the steps, he sees her go back to her phone and wishes her joy in whatever she finds there.

Navigating the gym proves to be easy enough, especially given the help he’s had with directions. He finds the appropriate room just on time, and is able to watch as the group Zoro’s apparently been putting through their paces are trickling out under the other man’s watchful eye. Then he sticks his head through the doorway and knocks his knuckles on the frame.

“Evening, Marimo.” He says when Zoro turns to look at him with his eyebrows raised in evident confusion. “How’s things?”

“Curls?” Zoro says, eyeing him with something akin to suspicion. “What’re you doing here?”

In answer, Sanji holds up his package like some sort of peace offering. “Well, you did tell me I should stop by and see the place, so I figured I’d take you up on the suggestion. I also come baring gifts.”

The look of suspicion fades and is replaced by one of pleasant surprise. “That for me?” Zoro asks, already striding forward to take a closer look.

“Well I certainly didn’t come all the way down here to eat it in front of you.” Sanji dryly. “Not even you deserve that level of cruelty. Having said that, I am going to insist that you change first. I don’t care if you were only leading that class, I can see the sweat on you.”

“A decent leader is the kind who gets his hands as dirty as the people he’s teaching.” Zoro replies easily, causing Sanji to roll his eyes. “But sure, the lockers are down this way.”

“I’ll just bet they aren’t.” Sanji mutters under his breath, and isn’t shocked at all when Zoro leads him on three loops of the upper floor before he finally manages to stumble over the appropriate room. “Mossball, you are hopeless .”

“All this shit looks the same.” Zoro insists, wandering over to a battered locker that looks like it’s made contact with someone’s knuckles on more than one occasion. He then suits action to words, hammering on it with a heavy fist to force it open.

“Uh huh,” Sanji mutters, averting his eyes as Zoro doesn’t bother stepping into one of the stalls to change, but rather strips off his current tank top right in the middle of the room. “You’re not going to shower first?”

“Not when there’s food waiting for me.” He hears, and when he risks a glance back over at Zoro, the other man is now sporting a t-shirt with a faded band logo adorning its chest and jeans with holes in the knees. “I can shower when I get home.”

Sanji wrinkles his nose, but in the interest of getting along opts to simply hand over the package he’s still carrying. “Well then, here. Eat your fill.”

Zoro’s good eye lights up when he lifts the lid and sees the contents of the meal Sanji’s prepared for him. “Looks good.” He says, dropping down onto the nearest available bench in the room. “And it smells even better.”

“ … thanks.” Sanji murmurs, somewhat taken aback by the easy compliment. “There are utensils in the little pouch on the side there.”

“Gotcha.” Zoro says, and for the next several minutes the only sounds in the room are that of him happily munching away on his prize. His table manners, Sanji knows from past experience, are only slightly better than Luffy’s, but so is how obviously he expresses his enjoyment.

“ Damn .” Zoro lets out a happy sigh and leans back on the bench after he’s swallowed the last mouthful. “I’m pretty sure this is the main benefit to hanging off your arm. I’d eat like this everyday if I could.”

“I mean, you spend enough time at the Baratie that you practically do.” Sanji points out, nevertheless pleased by the implicit compliment. “But I’ll do my best to swing by with more again soon.”

“Works for me.” Zoro agrees with a grin. “You should bring your gym gear the next time you come, though.” He adds, seemingly out of nowhere. “We still need to go that third round to settle up.”

“I’ll think about it.” Sanji replies, figuring that it can’t hurt.

*****

In the end, he does more than think about it. He does exactly as asked, such that the next time he brings Zoro food, he also shows up with a gym bag thrown over one shoulder.

At first he’s a little worried about having to buy a day pass since he doesn’t exactly have a membership to this specific gym. The same girl from before is on the front desk, however, and she simply waves him on up with a crack about ‘boyfriend privileges’ under her breath.

Wondering if Zoro’s actually said something to her, or if she’s just speculating based on their previous interaction, Sanji accepts the permission as is and tracks Zoro down to the same training room as before. Once there, though, he holds the meal hostage until they’ve gone a few rounds, ultimately emerging as the victor in a lengthy bout that sees them both sweating and hungry by the time it’s done.

Of course, Zoro refuses to accept defeat gracefully, and keeps insisting that Sanji cheated. No amount of irate protesting will convince him otherwise, which is what ultimately results in Sanji challenging him to yet another rematch. Naturally, Zoro wins that bout, which once again leaves them in a deadlock.

From there it only makes sense to have another tie breaker, but it ends up being a moot point. Whichever one of them wins, the other insists on a chance to get back at him, and they go back and forth over the next couple of weeks until they’ve basically become regular sparring partners.

The crew seem to think this is completely sensible given their respective personalities, although poor Chopper constantly frets over the risk of them hurting each other. Meanwhile, Zeff is growing increasingly suspicious regarding the packed meals Sanji keeps making, to the point that he eventually cracks and asks him what the hell is going on.

“I’m not stupid, Eggplant.” He concludes after he’s cornered Sanji late one evening when it’s just the two of them still around doing prep work for the opening shift tomorrow. “Those dishes you keep making are suited to a particular someone’s taste, and I’ve heard you muttering under your breath about macros and proteins when you think no one’s watching. Are you moonlighting on another gig that I should know about?”

“ No .” Sanji protests, honestly offended by the implication that he’s anything but loyal to the Baratie . So offended, in fact, that it’s what causes him to blurt out what he says next. “I’m just, you know, trying to be a decent significant other.”

Zeff’s eyebrows shoot up at an alarming rate, and he crosses his arms over his chest in a move that Sanji refuses to see as protective. “A decent significant other, eh?” He asks warily. “Dare I ask who the lucky … person is?”

Sanji doesn’t miss the slight pause, or the very deliberate choice of wording. Although he’s never actually admitted his bisexuality aloud to Zeff before, the old man has always known him better than he knows himself, so it’s been something of an unspoken detail between them for a while now.

“What would you say if I said I wasn’t ready to answer that yet?” He wants to know.

Zeff doesn’t so much as bat an eye. “I’d say that your business is your business.” He replies easily. “But I’d also say that, if it’s someone the old bastard wouldn’t approve of, to be careful. For both your sakes.”

That makes Sanji let out a heavy breath. “I’m trying.” He says quietly. “But he’s fucking stubborn, and keeps insisting he’s got nothing to be afraid of.”

Again, Zeff doesn’t even twitch. “Does he know the full extent of what he’s getting into?” He asks mildly.

“He thinks he does.” Sanji replies stiffly. “But I don’t think he can fully grasp the situation without having met Judge face to face.”

“And yet you’re doing this anyway.” Zeff notes. There’s no judgment in his tone, but he’s got enough history of his own with the Vinsmokes to be wary. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“No,” Sanji admits. “But I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do either.”

Zeff huffs. “Well,” he says quietly. “I suppose it’ll be up to the Cabbage to decide if he’s willing to stick around once the shit hits the fan.”

“How did you - ?” Sanji blinks, well versed in Zeff’s nicknames for each of the crew. “I never said who it was!”

“Please,” Zeff scoffs. “I’m not blind, and I wasn’t born yesterday. It’s the Cabbage, sure enough. Your food choices alone made that clear.”

“Oh.” Sanji says, only slightly mollified. “I guess that makes sense.” Then, because he really is his own worst enemy at times, he asks, “You’re not mad?”

“The fuck have I got to be mad about?” Zeff retorts. “Is he treating you poorly?”

“Of course not!” Sanji snaps with enough force that he surprises even himself. “He’s a brute, I know, but not in like - not in a bad way. He’s just a little rough around the edges is all.”

“Then, I repeat, what the fuck have I got to be mad about?” Zeff asks. “So long as he’s good to you and he’s making you happy, then he’s alright in my books.”

“Oh.” Sanji says again, and this time there’s a warming feeling pooling in his chest that he refuses to acknowledge. “Thanks. I guess.”

“Nothing to thank me for.” Zeff replies with a grunt. “Especially since I’ll have to make it clear that I’ll be feeding him his own arm if he fucks this up.”

“Don’t you dare!” Sanji sputters, staring at him aghast. “Old man, I’m fully capable of taking care of myself.”

“Since when?” Zeff asks. “Maybe try that one on someone who hasn’t known you since you were nine , Eggplant.”

“Whatever.” Sanji mumbles, feeling his face heat as he glances down at the meal he’s been working on. “I’m very much not nine years old anymore, and I’ve got things under control.”

“I’ll believe that one when I see it.” Zeff tells him, but at least he lets the subject drop.

*****

“So, Sanji, are you excited to finally see Zoro in action next week?”

Having been busy half listening to a conversation between Robin and Chopper, Sanji turns at the sound of his name. He then finds himself coming face to face with Usopp, who’s suddenly lounging on a couch across from the one he and Zoro are currently sitting on.

“Sorry.” He says, his brain reluctantly catching up to the fact that the younger man is expecting a response from him. “What was that?”

If Usopp’s offended by Sanji’s stilted answer, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he just grins lazily, and sinks even further back into the couch cushions. “I said …” He begins, pausing for dramatic affect. “Are you excited to see your boy there do what he does best next week? And by that I mean, are you excited to see him totally kick ass?”

Most people - people with the slightest sense of humility that is - would probably note how Usopp was making an assumption about their fighting prowess, and then point out how a win isn’t necessarily guaranteed. Zoro, however, just shrugs like the whole thing is a foregone conclusion.

Luckily for his poor, overinflated ego, Sanji’s around these days to knock him down a peg or two. Without so much as batting an eye, the cook reaches up to rap the other man on the chest. “I’m excited to see him try.” He says calmly. “But I’m not banking on anything until the dust settles. Not with how many times I’ve kicked his ass myself when we spar.”

“We’re even .” Zoro insists, offended enough that he yanks his attention away from the beer bottle in his hand to glare at Sanji. “I won the last match.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, dear.” Sanji says, giving him another pat. 

Zoro’s resulting stink eye is impressive to say the least, and would likely leave a lesser man quaking in his boots. Sanji’s made of sterner stuff, though, and anyway, it’s hard to be alarmed by the man who also has an arm comfortably curled around you at the same time.

That had been a surprise when they’d first started this little farce of theirs. Based on everything he’d so far seen from the man, Sanji had expected Zoro to be the kind of guy who largely disdained ‘touchy feely crap’. Instead, he’s proven to be unexpectedly tactile as a significant other.

Any time when they’re sitting together like this, Sanji inevitably winds up with a muscular arm wrapped around his shoulders. At first it had started out relatively tame - Zoro had stretched his arm along the back of a couch without actually touching him, but before long things had progressed to the point that the way they are now has become the norm.

And nor had that been the end of it. If they go out somewhere, say to a club or a restaurant with the crew, and find themselves on opposite sides of a table, Zoro will without fail tangle their feet together underneath it. He also turns out to be willing to walk arm in arm (which is a convenient way to stop him from wandering off, as it happens), and will even hold hands when the mood strikes him.

That last one had surprised Sanji most of all, so much so that he’d nearly jumped out of his skin the first time he’d felt one of Zoro’s scarred, calloused hands wrap around his own most precious commodity. He’d found himself staring down at the joined limbs like their connection was an entirely foreign concept to him, before he’d slowly relaxed into the hold.

Now, he finds himself entirely at ease with pretty much any touch Zoro cares to initiate. He tells himself that’s simply because he’s gotten used to them all, but deep down, safe in the privacy of his own mind, he might be convinced to admit that he finds the connection pleasant. Grounding, even.

Of course, all of their encounters remain entirely platonic in the end. Zoro’s never tried to take anything further, and Sanji would kick his ass for good if he did. As far as the crew are concerned, they simply don’t care for serious PDAs, but in reality they’re maintaining a very firm line of what is and isn’t permissible under the circumstances.

If Sanji’s wondered maybe once or twice now what it might feel like to actually kiss the other man, well, nobody needs to know that. It too is a thought that remains safely tucked away inside his head.

Realizing that the conversation has continued on without him, and not only that, but that Nami’s come to join them as well, he belatedly tunes back into what everyone is saying. 

“ … no one who should give me any trouble this time around.” Zoro is busy announcing to the room at large. “I keep an eye on the rankings, and there’s nobody entered in this tournament who I’m not leagues ahead of. I’m the odds on favorite by a wide margin.”

“Which will therefore be all the more embarrassing if you then lose.” Sanji reminds him, smiling brightly when Zoro shoots him a narrow eyed look. “As Usopp’s already pointed out, Mossy, this is my first time getting to see you in action for real. I’d hate for you to fail to live up to my expectations.”

“I won’t.” Zoro says, his voice low and containing more than a hint of a growl. “Unless you count the fact that I’m going to go through all my opponents fast enough for most people to blink.”

“Cocky.” Sanji replies with a forlorn shake of his head. “Very cocky.”

“It’s not really cocky if all he’s doing is telling the truth.” Nami cuts in with a sigh. “As much as I support your attempts to keep his head from getting any bigger Sanji, I looked up the list of participants myself. There’s no dark horses signed up this time around.”

“Told you.” Zoro says, sounding smug. “But don’t worry, Curls. I’ll still put on a show just for you.”

“What about your father?” Nami asks curiously, asking the question before Sanji has a chance to come up with a response. “Will he be there?”

Zoro makes a face. “Not this time.” He says with an easy shrug. “He’s - actually, I don’t know where the fuck he is because I was only half listening when he told me about the trip. Somewhere for business anyway, and he won’t be back in time for the match.”

“Too bad,” Nami says. “I know how much he loves pointing out all the things you did wrong.”

This time, Zoro snorts. “The tournament’s going to be recorded. I’m sure he’ll get his hands on a copy and we’ll go over everything in detail when he gets back.”

“Your family bonds in the weirdest ways.” Usopp comments, but Zoro certainly doesn’t seem put out about this since all he does is shrug. “What about your sister? Is she coming?”

“Please,” Zoro scoffs. “You both know she only shows her face at these things when the old man drags her along. She’ll be off doing god knows what and enjoying every minute of it.”

“Too bad,” Nami says. “I like getting a chance to chat with her. I can always count on her to have the best gossip where your latest stupidity is concerned. Oh well.”

“You know she makes up at least half the crap she tells you, right?”

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“ Anyway ,” Usopp says, effectively stepping in before the two of them can get into a legitimate argument. “I guess you’re just going to have to content yourself with only the crew cheering you on, Zoro. Plus Sanji, of course.”

“Oh yeah?” Zoro grins, tilting his head to one side so that he can aim it directly at Sanji. “Is that fair to say, Curls? Are you gonna swoon over me and everything when I win?”

“I don’t swoon.” Sanji says primly. “At least not over the likes of you. If you want a reaction like that, you’re going to have to earn it.” 

Rather than look perturbed by this, Zoro’s grin gets even brighter. “I’ll see what I can do.” He says, and takes a swig from his beer bottle.”

Chapter Text

Despite his previous assurances that he has little interest in the outcome of Zoro’s upcoming tournament, Sanji’s surprised to find that he wakes with butterflies in his stomach on the first day of the event. Unsure of why such a thing would be happening, he struggles to get through his morning routine, growing increasingly concerned when his nerves fail to subside.

Even the act of preparing breakfast for himself only manages to do so much. By the time the clock has ticked down enough that it’s finally time for him to leave his apartment, he’s starting to wonder if he should even go at all.

On the other hand, it wouldn’t help their plan if he failed to attend - quite the opposite actually - and he’d already promised regardless. Taking a deep breath once he’s got his coat and shoes on, he removes the carefully prepared lunch he’d made for Zoro the night before and then heads for the door.

There’s a crowd of people streaming through the entrance to the center where the tournament is being held by the time he arrives, more than he would have expected for a niche sport as this. Still, part of him can’t help but be happy that Zoro won’t be performing for a meager audience, and he continues watching everyone coming in while he grabs a quick smile near the corner of the building.

He hears Luffy before he sees him, yet isn’t at all surprised to find the man at the head of the entire crew when he finally comes into view. It’s Usopp who first spots Sanji, though, and the keen eyed man waves the arm that Kaya isn’t hanging off of.

“Yo, Sanji!” He calls, and a number of the others let out similar cries when they notice him.

Sanji waves back to show he’s heard them, and quickly plucks the remenants of the cigarette from his mouth, figuring that it’s as finished as it’s going to get at this point. He grinds the butt out beneath his heel, only to look up and find Chopper staring at him in consternation.

“I keep telling you those things are terrible for your lung capacity.” He says despondently. “Not to mention the plethora of other health issues they can cause. Do I need to break out the statistics again?”

Sanji winces. “Please don’t.” He says. “In particular because we both know it won’t be enough to stop me.”

Chopper sighs, looking like he’s about to do it anyway, when Luffy drapes a gangly arm around his neck. “C’mon, Chopper.” The other man wheedles, poking at the pink hat that the doctor wears as regularly as he does his own straw one. “Sanji needs to get inside so he can watch Zoro fight.”

“I’m honestly surprised he’s not with you guys.” Sanji says, seizing the opening while he’s got it. “Please tell me someone made arrangements to get him here on time.”

“It’s been dealt with.” Nami promises. “But we should get inside so that we can make sure we get good seats. Sometimes that’s harder to do when you have a large group.”

Despite Nami’s very reasonable concern they get lucky in the end and find a bunch of vacant seats clustered together with a decent vantage point. Sanji finds himself sitting with the redhead on one side and Luffy on the other, the latter of whom’s eyes light up when he spots what Sanji’s carrying.

“It’s not for you.” Sanji says preemptively, tucking the package further out of reach. “Zoro’s going to be exerting a lot of energy today, so he’s the only one who’s getting special treatment.”

“And you’d know all about him ‘exerting energy’, wouldn’t you, bro?” Franky snickers from where he’s seated next to Robin in the row behind them. “I hope you haven’t been keeping him too busy that it affects how he does in the ring.”

“I’ll have you know that I’ve done nothing of the sort.” Sanji says icily, shooting a glare over his shoulder in the much larger man’s direction. “Unlike some people I could name, I’m a gentlemen.”

“Franky,” Robin warns when her husband moves to respond. Her placid expression never wavers, but he nevertheless settles with nothing more than a nod and a crooked grin.

Satisfied that that’s the end of that, Sanji turns back around in his seat. “Some people have no manners whatsoever.” He mutters, folding his hands in his lap. “It’s appalling.”

“You’re dating Zoro.” Nami reminds him, while next to her Vivi can’t quite manage to contain a snort. “Which means you can’t be nearly as worried about manners as you like to pretend.”

Sanji sniffs. “Well, every rule has its exception, I suppose.” He tells her.

“Uh huh. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Having no real answer for that, Sanji settles back in his seat with a disgruntled huff. Truth be told, he finds himself inexplicably a little annoyed at her insinuation about Zoro’s character because while it’s true that he can be a brute at times, he’s actually much more amenable than Sanji had originally thought, and he’s downright respectful when it comes to things like personal space.

Not wanting to distract himself, Sanji does his best to banish such thoughts from his head so that he can focus on the match. Luckily, once the audience is seated and the officials have signaled to begin, that turns out to be all too easy to achieve.

Thanks to his upbringing, Sanji’s no stranger to either weapons or combat. On the other hand, Judge’s obsession with technological advancement means that he’s far more familiar with guns than he is with swords. For all that he understands the basics to a point, that’s nothing when compared to seeing true masters in action.

And it turns out that there’s no one better than Zoro. The entire audience collectively straightens in their seats when he hits the ring, a feeling of anticipation sitting heavy in the air. Everyone watches as he proceeds to mow down every opponent he’s faced with, seemingly without breaking a sweat.

Sanji spends the whole day mesmerized as he watches the other man work, the white hilted sword that he wields practically singing in his hands as he moves.

“I’m surprised he’s using Wado for this.” He hears Nami murmur partway through the morning. “I’d have thought he’d go with either Shusui or Kitetsu given that it’s not an overly important tournament.”

“Maybe it has more to do with an overly important audience.” Vivi murmurs back, and Sanji pretends he can’t feel it when both their gazes land on the side of his face. Unfortunately, he suspects his growing blush gives the game away all on its own.

Thankfully neither woman says anything further, and they’re soon once again engrossed in Zoro’s actions.

The second day is more of the same, with the only difference being that Zoro stands victorious on the podium when all is said and done. He doesn’t gloat over his win, merely acknowledges the cheering crowd with a raised arm and a stilted nod, but Sanji knows him well enough by now to recognize the pleased way in which he’s carrying himself.

That’s even more readily apparent when the crew is able to join him downstairs and get in close. Zoro’s flushed slightly red with the fading light of victory, and there’s a brightness to his eyes that Sanji knows means the adrenaline has yet to fade.

He hangs back until the crowd has thinned out and even the crew has gotten tired of thumping Zoro on the back in congratulations. Finally, the swordsman turns to look his way, and Sanji raises an eyebrow expectantly.

“Moss.” He says, nodding when Zoro’s gaze lands on him. “I guess you’re not entirely useless at this sport of yours after all. Nicely done.”

Zoro snorts, but his answering grin shows that he’s more amused than offended. “Really?” He asks. “That’s the best you can come up with?”

“Of course.” Sanji replies, shrugging. “There are people watching, and I have a reputation to uphold. If you wanted someone to act like a fawning sycophant just because you won one measly little tournament, you should have chosen somebody else.”

“Oh gross.” Usopp makes a gagging noise when Zoro’s grin gets even sharper. “This is you two’s idea of flirting, isn’t it? I don’t know why I’m even a little bit surprised.”

“I don’t either.” Nami notes. “Because this is exactly the kind of crap I’d expect from them. For the record, I hope you both realize that if you start making out where we can see you, I will tax you within an inch of your lives.”

“Mellorine,” Sanji wheezes, shocked out of the daze he’d fallen into thanks to her choice of words. “Perish the thought. I’d never subject a lady such as yourself to something so crude.”

“Well thank god at least one of you has some basic common decency.” Nami sniffs. “Since I’ll be honest and say I really don’t care for the look in Zoro’s eye right now.”

“Forget about all that!” Luffy interjects, shoving his lanky body forward until he’s standing smack dab in the middle of the group. “Zoro won, that means we need to celebrate! We should head to Bon’s place!”

Sanji winces at the reference to Cabaret. As much as he’s come to like the place, spending too much time there can be risky, and he was there all of a week ago. “I can’t, Luffy.” He says aloud, a lie already resting on his tongue. “I had to take an early shift tomorrow to make up for not being available all weekend. Sorry.”

“I’m tired anyway.” Zoro says when Luffy starts to protest. “Plus, Curls isn’t the only one who has to work tomorrow. I’ve got a class at the gym. You guys can still go out if you feel like, but it looks like we’re calling it early.”

“I’ll just bet you are.” Usopp drawls, a comment that makes Nami, Franky, and Brook dissolve into inappropriate snickers. “Why don’t you two just admit that you want to be alone together and be done with it?”

“Because that’d be letting you animals win.” Sanji sniffs, giving them all a dirty look. “No offense, my dear.” He adds when the glance catches Nami on its tail end. “I don’t mean to include you among these reprobates, of course.”

“Oh, of course.” She agrees with a teasing glint in her eye. “Lucky for you I’m not easily offended. If you and Zoro want to do a little celebrating of your own, it’s no skin off my back.”

“Good.” Zoro says before Sanji has a chance to find his voice. “I’ve got to get my gear home, anyway. What do you say, Curls? You wanna head back to my place for a bit?”

His tongue suddenly feeling too big for his mouth, and with all eyes abruptly on him, Sanji nods.

*****
“You know I only said that because it was the only way they wouldn’t give us grief about leaving, right? You don’t actually have to come up if you don’t feel like it.”

Having largely been concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, Sanji looks up to find himself standing in front of a nondescript looking apartment building, presumably the one where Zoro rents a unit. Oddly enough, it’s not that far away from his own.

“Wha - oh.” Zoro’s words belatedly catching up to him, Sanji shrugs. “I can head home if you like, but it’s still a bit early yet. I just didn’t want to wind up at Cabaret because it would likely take me hours to be able to sneak away, and that would be too late for me to stay out.”

“Fair enough.” Giving Sanji an amicable bob of his head, Zoro shoves a hand in his coat pocket and begins rooting around for something, presumably his keys. “Gimme a sec then.”

Sanji rests back on his heels, trying to project an air of calm as the other man continues his search. Inwardly, he’s a little confused by his inexplicable urge to keep hanging out with Zoro tonight, but chalks it up to the fact that he thinks they genuinely are on their way to becoming friends and that’s something friends do together.

Zoro’s apartment, once they finally get inside, isn’t quite what he’s expecting. For one thing, it’s more high end looking than he would have thought the swordsman could afford, and also homier. It’s well organized, which isn’t a surprise - Zoro doesn’t like clutter, but in a way that’s much warmer than Sanji’s own space.

“Not bad.” Sanji comments as he makes his way inside. “Cozy, even.”

“Thanks,” Zoro says. He leaves the bag containing the clothes he’d fought in and other gear by the door, but strides into the apartment still holding his sword case. As Sanji watches, he flicks the latch and pulls the white sword free, lifting her up to a rack that contains two other swords already.

“She’s called Wado, right?” Sanji says, noting the way Zoro carefully handles the blade as he sets her on the top rack of the shelving unit. “Nami said she’s your favorite.”

“Nami’s got a big mouth.” Zoro murmurs, giving the sword a quick pat once he’s satisfied with its placement. “But she’s not wrong in this instance. Shusui and Kitetsu are good swords, but it’s Wado who’s going to see me all the way to the top.”

There’s a story there, Sanji’s certain of it, but he’s just as certain that tonight isn’t a night where Zoro feels like telling it. He therefore casts his gaze around the apartment, trying to find a safer topic of conversation, but comes up blank.

“You want a drink or something?” Zoro asks, apparently equally unsure of what to say. “There’s beer in the fridge.”

“And probably not much else, right?” Sanji notes, clucking his tongue when Zoro shrugs in response. Still, at least it seems like a safer topic of conversation. “Sure, why not.”

Zoro nods and makes his way into the surprisingly spacious kitchen. Sanji watches as he roots around in the fridge for a moment, ultimately re-emerging with two glass bottles in hand.

He doesn’t bother using a bottle opener, choosing instead to prop the caps against the counter and pry them open that way. Sanji would comment on potential damage to the space, but knowing Zoro all it’d do would make him roll his eye. Besides, the ease with which the motion had flowed suggested it was one he’d done many times before.

“Thanks.” He says, accepting the now open bottle and clinking it against Zoro’s when the other man holds his out. “And, all jokes aside, congrats on the win today. Swords may not really be my thing, but it’s pretty obvious that you know what you’re doing with one.”

“Or three,” Zoro corrects. “Didn’t anyone tell you that I can use ‘em all at once?”

“Now you’re just showing off.”

“A little bit, yeah.” Zoro confirms. “I just wish the stodgy old goats who run the tournaments and stuff would let me really put on a show. I keep getting shot down though.”

“Probably because no one else would have a clue how to deal with you.” Sanji says, wandering back out into the living room and settling down on the couch. “You must look like some kind of demon when you have them all going at the same time.”

“That very word may have been tossed around once or twice.” Zoro says, coming to join him. “And I appreciate how impressed you sound, Curls.”

“Watch it.” Sanji says quickly, nudging him with his knee. “One sword or three, it might freak out the average opponent, but it makes no difference to me. I’d still kick your ass all the same.”

Zoro gives him a funny look around the lip of his beer bottle. “You know, if anyone but another swordsman or woman made a crack like that I’d tell them they were out of their mind. In your case, though, I’m half tempted to see if we couldn’t make a real fight out of it.”

“Christ, Marimo.” Sanji can’t help but laugh. “You’re like one of those dogs that would fight its own reflection if given an opportunity.”

“And you love it,” Zoro shoots back, not even pausing to blink. “You’re just as bad as I am.”

“Maybe,” Sanji concedes. “But I hope you’re not trying to coerce me into another living room brawl again because it’s not happening. Especially not if swords are going to be involved.”

“Nah, not tonight.” Zoro replies. “But maybe some other time. For now, we should probably keep it a little more low key since we both have to work tomorrow.”

Sanji looks at him. “What did you have in mind?”

Zoro makes a face, his expression suggesting that he hadn’t put much thought into the idea beforehand. “You want to watch a movie or something?”

Sanji considers this, and finds he doesn’t actually hate the idea. “Sure.” He says aloud. “But I’m a guest, so I’m picking.”

“You’re a bossy bitch is what you are, but fine. Go ahead.”

*****
Sanji spends a surprisingly enjoyable evening at Zoro’s apartment, and holds onto that memory in the coming days. Things are fine with his shifts at the Baratie, but now that Zoro’s tournament is behind him, the clock is ticking down on his next public excursion with the Vinsmokes, which is never a fun experience.

This time it’s the opening of a new wing at a local art gallery. Hoping to add ‘patron of the arts’ to his list of qualities that will earn him the esteem of the members of high society, Judge has purchased tickets for the whole family to attend, and no doubt made a sizable donation to boot.

Personally, Sanji has no issue with the arts. In fact, based on his first few turns about the galley, he’s spotted a handful of exhibits that he wouldn’t mind coming back to take in properly. He hates feeling like a bug under a microscope, however, and if he doesn’t put on a good show, not only will Judge find out, but he won’t be happy about it.

The feeling of his phone buzzing in his pocket distracts Sanji from his latest morose contemplations, and he switches the flute of champagne he’s holding from his right hand to his left so that he can more easily pull it free.

A familiar name lights up the screen, but even without that the message would have been enough to alert him to the origin of the sender. Have you died from boredom yet, Curls? His phone wants to know. Or do you just wish that were the case at this point?

Chuckling to himself, Sanji thumbs the phone on properly, keying in his passcode so that he can fire off a response. As always, Marimo, I am reluctantly impressed by your usage of proper grammar, but to answer your question no. I’ve yet to do myself any kind of injury, despite the fact that the urge is strong.

Fair enough. Zoro shoots back, fast enough that Sanji figures he must have been watching his phone. Still, if you need me to fake some kind of emergency, I’m down. Five bucks says I could convince Luffy to sneak in and pull the fire alarm.

As chivalrous as that sounds, I’m going to pass on the rescue, thanks. Me having to go bail Luffy out of jail would only be a minor improvement on the evening at best.

You sure about that?

Sanji snorts and takes a sip of his drink. Truth be told, that’s a valid question. He’s so far managed to avoid not only Judge but also his siblings for much of the night. He did get stuck having to pose for pictures at the start of the event, however, and there’s a good chance that one or more of them will track him down again eventually.

As if on cue, he hears the sound of footsteps - multiple footsteps - coming from somewhere nearby, and then a trio of familiar figures are rounding the corner into his otherwise unoccupied section of the gallery.

Yonji spots him first, and a big, stupid smirk spreads across his youngest brother’s equally big, stupid face as their gazes meet. “Oi Sanji, so this is where you’ve been hiding!” He calls, his words immediately alerting the other two to his find. “Father was asking about you a little while ago.”

“I’ll just bet he was.” Sanji mutters, his hand tightening around his phone as he surreptitiously shuts it off. “Let me guess, he’s found more cameras for us to stand simpering in front of to try and help stroke his ego?”

“Careful, little brother.” Ichiji says coolly. “A comment like that could give off the wrong impression depending on who overheard it.”

“Right, silly me.” Sanji says, abruptly grateful for the security cameras in the room as they start fanning out in a way that’s reminiscent of when they were children. Back then this kind of move would’ve indicated he was in for a beating, but tonight there’s not much they can do aside from being verbally unpleasant.

“Who are you talking to?” Ichiji asks next, nodding at the phone in Sanji’s hand. “Anyone we know?”

“Nope.” Sanji says, stuffing said phone inside his jacket pocket where it’d be difficult for any of them to get their hands on it. He’d long ago started paying for his own so that Judge couldn’t track his communications that way, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have to worry about a more blunt force approach at times. “And certainly no one you’d consider important, either.”

“That’s true. Not if they were connected to you, anyway.” Niji agrees, his mouth curling up in a sneer. “No one we’d ever bother wasting our time on would do that.”

Years of experience keep Sanji from rolling his eyes, but it’s a near thing. As a child he’d been desperate to fit in with the three of them, and had never understood why he couldn’t. As an adult, he never understood why he’d wanted to in the first place.

“Anyway.” He says with as much forced brightness as he can muster. “I think you said Judge wanted to see me, so I’ll just go find him, shall I? I’d hate to keep him waiting on such an already busy night.”

“That’s nice of you.” Ichiji says, his tone indicating that he genuinely could not give less of a fuck. “As it happens, I know exactly where he is, so I can take you to him.”

Sanji swallows, but does his best to keep anything else from showing on his face. If even one of his brothers is determined to actually make sure he goes to see Judge - as opposed to simply delivering their father’s message and being done with the whole thing - that’s not a good sign. Whatever this is, Judge doesn’t want him ‘accidentally’ going astray and not finding him within a reasonable timeframe.

Niji and Yonji fall back as he brushes past them, clearly content to wash their hands of the whole mess, but Ichiji moves into step beside him as promised. He then proceeds to lead Sanji through the crowd of people and artworks, never once breaking stride as he navigates the busy path.

If they had a more typical sibling relationship, Sanji would no doubt use this time as an opportunity to pry any pertinent details he could out of his brother. Because theirs is anything but, however, he instead stays silent, growing increasingly worried as they move.

Although it turns out to be a short trip from Sanji’s hiding spot to their intended destination, he’s worked himself up to a frenzy by the time they arrive. It’s only years of practice that keep this from showing on his face, and he salutes his so-called father with the flute he’s still holding when they finally lock eyes upon his approach.

“Ah, Sanji, there you are!” Judge says brightly, a jovial tone in his voice that Sanji doesn’t trust for a goddamned second. “Come here.” He then says, gesturing towards himself. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

The alarm bells that have been low key going off in the back of Sanji’s head since his brothers had tracked him down are now full on screaming at him, and they don’t get any better as he closes in on Judge’s location. Along with the older man, two women he’s never met have now become visible, plus Reiju, whose expression betrays her own unease to anyone who knows her well enough to spot it.

Trying and failing to catch his sister’s eye, Sanji barely manages not to scowl when one of Judge’s heavy hands lands on his shoulder, tightening almost to the point of pain as it unerringly turns him around to face the other two women. He doesn’t recognize the younger of the pair, but the older one he’s all too familiar with thanks to the many news articles about her infamously sharp wheeling and dealing.

Charlotte ‘Big Mom’ Linlin is notorious for amassing both wealth and an information network that’s even larger than her overgrown family. Possessed of a frankly absurd amount of children, she’s purported to rule over them all with an iron fist, and they’re the lucky ones. Anyone outside the family fold is open season if they do something that could be perceived as getting in her way.

From what little else Sanji knows about the woman, he can see why she’s someone Judge would be drawn to. She’s exactly the kind of patron whose coattails he could ride to get the validation he craves, assuming he could get her to bestow her good will on him that is.

Plastering a fake smile on his face, Sanji nods at Linlin when Judge makes a completely unnecessary introduction for her. “Pleased to meet you, Ma’am.” He says, his grip on the champagne flute tightening to the point that he’s worried it might shatter in his hand. “I hope you’re having a nice night.”

In answer, he gets pursed lips and a piercing gaze directed his way that makes its way up and down the length of his body. “Hmm.” Linlin says when she finally speaks. “I suppose he’ll do well enough. Pudding.” She adds sharply, and it takes Sanji a moment to realize she’s talking to the young woman who’s still standing by her elbow, as opposed to demanding a snack. “Why don’t you show the younger Vinsmoke here your favorite exhibits while the elder and I continue our conversation.”

“Yes, Mama.” The woman - barely more than a girl, really - nods. “Mr. Vinsmoke, won’t you come join me?”

Being referred to by the name he hates twice in quick succession does nothing to improve Sanji’s mood, but he’s pretty sure Judge’s grip on his shoulder is now leaving marks, so he doesn’t dare risk refusing her. Nodding instead, he drags his arm free of the older man’s clutches, shoots a futile glance Reiju’s way that tells him nothing, and indicates that Pudding should lead him where she wishes.

“Is this your first time visiting the gallery?” Pudding asks as they slip away from their older relatives. She’s wearing a dress that’s more bedecked with frills than current fashion dictates, and Sanji can’t help but notice the way she fidgets with one of the ribbons as she speaks.

“It is, yeah.” Sanji says, deciding to take pity on her. Whatever game Judge and her mother are cooking up, she’s most likely as innocent of it as he is, so there’s no reason to be rude. “I’m enjoying it, though. There’s a number of impressive pieces on display.”

“I agree.” Pudding says with an eager nod. “And unlike you, I have been here before, so I know where to find all the hidden gems if you’re interested.”

Seeing no better option, Sanji gestures for her to continue, and winds up doing a lengthy tour of the gallery, all while Pudding chatters on about her favorite pieces that are shown here. Her choices indicate that the two of them have very little in common when it comes to their taste in art, but he’s impressed by the breadth of her knowledge all the same.

They’re standing in front of a large piece that’s meant to depict some kind of royal portrait when Pudding turns a shy smile his way. “While he was chatting with Mama and I, your father mentioned that you like to cook. Is that true?”

Having been busy eyeing the portrait in distaste while a little voice in the back of his head that sounded like Zoro’s remarked that the king in question looked constipated, it takes Sanji a moment to process what he’s just heard. When he does, though, he turns to stare at Pudding with both eyebrows raised.

“I’m sorry,” he says, shock causing him to lose control of his brain to mouth filter. “Judge said what?”

“Um, that you like to cook?” Pudding repeats, looking like she’d kind of like to back away from him at this point. “Only, Mama was telling him about my own baking enterprises, and he said that in that case he had a son who loves cooking that I simply needed to meet.”

“Did he also happen to mention that he absolutely loathes that particular quirk of mine?” Sanji asks before any sense of reason can kick in and stop him.

“Er, no.” Pudding says, her face going pale beneath all the makeup she’s wearing. “He, um, didn’t.”

“I’m surprised.” Sanji says flatly. “He’s usually so vocal in his disdain. Although, since this is an obvious attempt at setting us up, I imagine he figured he could stomach the idea for a time if it got him what he wanted.”

“Sorry.” He grunts when Pudding’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates. “Was that too much? It probably was, wasn’t it?”

“I … ?” She tries, only to immediately trail off when words fail her.

“It’s alright,” Sanji says, once again taking pity on her. “I’m sure you don’t want to be caught in the middle of whatever’s going on here anymore than I do. You seem like a perfectly lovely girl,” he adds in an attempt to soften the blow. “But I imagine you’re no more interested in me than I am in you.”

Pudding tugs nervously at yet another ribbon on her dress, this time forcibly enough that Sanji’s a little afraid she might tear it off. “I, um, I don’t really think that’s something our parents will care about.” She says quietly, her eyes darting around like she’s afraid someone might overhear. “When Mama strikes up deals like this, she expects us to do as we’re told.”

A rush of sympathy washes over Sanji, and he gazes down at Pudding in a new light. Based on this comment he’s going to guess that she feels as trapped as he does in her current situation, but that she’s perhaps not taken any steps to try and change her arrangement.

Following close on that thought is another one, which is the abrupt realization that he technically does have an excuse to get himself out of this one. It won’t be pretty, and he’ll be running a risk where Judge is concerned, but it might actually help him in the long run. Plus, it might just keep poor Pudding from getting caught in the crossfire.

Slipping his free hand inside his suit jacket, he absently pats his phone. The thing has been periodically buzzing throughout the duration of their conversation, implying that Zoro’s continued nattering at him despite the lack of a recent response from Sanji.

“Sorry, my dear.” He says aloud. “But I’m already spoken for.”

Pudding’s eyes, which are a warm chocolate color yet somehow seem almost too big for her face, widen impossibly further. Biting her bottom lip hard enough that the skin around it turns white, she glances furtively around the room, clearly trying to gauge whether or not the wrong person might be close enough to overhear them.

“Does your father know that?” She finally demands, her words coming out as more of a hiss. “Because if he does, and he’s still trying to cut a deal with Mama that’ll have him pull the wool over her eyes, it’s not going to go well. She doesn’t take kindly to people who think they can play her.”

As tempting as it is to lie and see what happens to Judge if he does so, Sanji shakes his head. “He has no idea.” He says, now speaking even more quietly than Pudding has been. “Let’s just say he wouldn’t approve and leave it at that.”

He’s pretty sure he sees a flash of understanding in Pudding’s eyes, but he doesn’t know her well enough to be certain. In fact, it occurs to him that he may have said more than is safe already, but he supposes the damage is done.

“You do realize that I’m going to have to tell her you turned me down, right? Even if I leave out the exact reason why.” She says next, at least having the decency to sound contrite. “I’m sorry, but it’s you or me in this situation, and I’m not willing to put my neck on the line for a guy I’ve only just met, who also happens to be telling me no.”

Despite the fact that there’s nothing funny about the situation, Sanji finds himself laughing. “It’s alright.” He says, running a hand through his hair and shrugging. “Pissing the old bastard off has its perks, and he probably won’t actually kill me.”

Pudding gives him what he suspects is her first real smile since they’d been introduced. “I hope not.” She says, smiling sweetly. “Unlike most of the people Mama tends to introduce me to, you don’t seem so bad.”

Grinning, Sanji salutes her with his champagne.

*****
He’s made it several blocks from the gallery when the first blow comes. Having sensed them following him since he’d left the damn party, he ducks to avoid it and largely succeeds, but he knows that’ll only be the first of many.

“Seriously?” He tries, dodging a second swing and also evading a kick as well. “I figured you idiots would wait at least until I got back to my apartment to try this. What if somebody sees you? Judge isn’t going to like it if the four of us wind up brawling on the news.”

“Who the fuck do you think sent us?” Niji demands, and this time Sanji isn’t quite fast enough to avoid his reaching hands. His most unpleasant brother manages to grip him by the front of his suit jacket, and shoves him hard into the brick building behind him.

“Wait.” Ichiji says, his tone that of someone who’s expecting to be obeyed. “He’s got a point. We can’t do this where anyone might see.”

“There’s an alley up there.” Niji replies, his sneer visible in the glow of the streetlights as he nods. “It should be empty, and there won’t be any cameras around.”

“Works for me.” Yonji says from where he’s looming behind the other two. “Let’s hurry up and get this over with.”

“Hey, don’t I get a say in this?” Sanji demands, squirming in Niji’s grasp even though he knows it’s futile. “I happen to be quite fond of this suit for the record, and you idiots are going to fuck it up.”

Ichiji gives him a flat stare. “Antagonizing us isn’t the smartest course of action right now. In fact, I’d go so far as to say it’s downright stupid.”

“Right because that’s the dumbest thing I’ve done tonight.” Sanji quips. “Spoiling whatever plans Judge was getting up to with Charlotte Linlin didn’t even make the top of the list.”

“Shut up, Sanji.” One of them says, although in the flurry of his being dragged into the alley where they want him, he’s not sure which.

He leaves said alley a while later with a split lip, a busted right eye, and a few ribs that may or may not be cracked. There’s also a ringing in his ears that’s yet to settle down, and he hopes like hell that nobody stumbles over him because he no doubt looks like shit.

Still, he’s alive, which hadn’t necessarily been a guarantee given how furious Judge had to be. Even better, he’s still largely upright and moving under his own power, not something he could always bank on after a dust up with the idiot trio.

On the other hand, he doesn’t much relish the remaining walk back to his apartment, and he needs a moment to get his bearings. Once he does, he realizes that he’s actually closer to Zoro’s place than he is his own, and a potentially insane idea occurs to him.

He maybe should have texted ahead to say he was coming, but the look on Zoro’s face when he opens the door is frankly hilarious enough to make him burst out laughing. Though it’s possible that’s his recent head trauma talking.

“Curls, what the fuck?!” Zoro demands, staring at him aghast. “What the hell happened to you?!”

Sanji makes a show of glancing down at himself, noting with some annoyance that his suit is, indeed, torn in multiple places. Also, there’s blood on his shirt.

“Curls?”

Sanji blinks, and tells himself to focus. “Ah.” He says belatedly. “The answer to that question would be my brothers. I told you they weren’t very nice people.”

“No shit.” Zoro hisses, his good eye flitting back and forth over the length of Sanji’s body. “Let me grab my keys. We need to get you to a hospital.”

“Absolutely not.” Sanji hisses, straightening up from where he’s been sagging against the doorframe, possibly using it to support himself. “I don’t do hospitals.”

“And don’t even think about calling Chopper either.” He adds when Zoro opens his mouth in an obvious bid to protest. “It looks worse than it is. I just need to sit down for a minute, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Yeah, that’s not fucking happening.” Zoro growls, stepping out of the way so that Sanji can lurch into his apartment. “If you’re not going to a hospital then you’re not going anywhere period. Go have a seat in the kitchen, and I’ll grab the first aid kit.”

“You actually own one of those?” Sanji asks, surprised. “Given your penchant for letting your injuries ‘breathe’, I’d have thought you’d disdain such menial possessions.”

“You can thank Chopper.” Zoro says, his voice drifting back to Sanji from down the hallway where he’s already disappeared. “He gave it to me as a housewarming present when I moved in here. Said this way he could at least pretend I was taking care of myself after I took a hit in a match.”

“God bless Chopper.” Sanji replies nonsensically, wincing when Zoro returns and flicks the overhead kitchen light on. “Damnit, Marimo.”

“You don’t get to complain when you’re the one who showed up on my doorstep looking like death warmed over.” Zoro mutters. Setting the kit he’s now carrying down on the counter, he hooks a hand under Sanji’s chin, tilting his face up so that he can get a better look at the damage. “Fuck, they really did a number on you, didn’t they?”

“They always do.” Sanji admits with a shrug that he immediately regrets when it pulls on his ribs. “Judge has been using them as his attack dogs for years, and I’m pretty sure it’s one of the few things in life they derive genuine pleasure from.”

“That’s so fucked up.” Zoro says, and Sanji can only hum in agreement. “Alright. Hold still so I can start cleaning this mess.”

“I can - ”

“Don’t even try it, Sanji.” Zoro says firmly, flipping the lid of the kit open and grabbing what looks like a moist towelette from inside its depths. “Not tonight.”

Swallowing heavily, Sanji obediently falls silent, and decides for once in his life to do as he’s told without any further fuss. He barely moves so much as a muscle as Zoro works his way through his injuries, only speaking when he’s asked a direct question about one of the hits he’d taken.

“You really should get those ribs looked at.” Zoro concludes once he’s done everything he can. “I’m not a professional, and there’s a ton of nasty bruising down there.”

In answer, Sanji twists carefully from side to side, rotating his torso until he’s satisfied with the level of mobility he’s able to obtain. “They’re neither broken nor cracked.” He announces with certainty when Zoro raises his eyebrows at him. “So there’s no point in going to a hospital. The doctors there won’t be able to do anything more for me than you have.”

“They could give you some pain meds.” Zoro remarks conversationally, and Sanji makes a face.

“No, thanks.” He says, grimacing. “I hate how shit like that makes me feel.

Zoro sighs like Sanji’s causing him previously unknown levels of exasperation. “Fine.” He huffs, sounding thoroughly annoyed about it. “I’ll get you an ice pack or two, which might at least help you get comfortable enough to sleep.”

“I have ice packs at home.” Sanji says, not sure that’s actually the case. “Now that I’m good to go, I’ll sort myself out there.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” Zoro says, sternly enough that Sanji, who’d started to stand up from the couch, automatically sits back down again. “What you’re going to do is wait here while I put fresh sheets on my bed, and then you’re going to go get some sleep.”

“I’m not sleeping in your bed.” Sanji says, scandalized. “I’ve taken up enough of your time already.”

Unimpressed, Zoro crosses his arms over his chest and stares Sanji down. “You definitely took a couple hits to the head tonight, which means you might have a concussion and need to be monitored. If you try and take one step outside that door, I’m calling Chopper. And maybe Kaya and Law too. Is that clear?”

Sanji opens his mouth to argue, but one look at the other man’s face is enough to let his feeble protest die on his lips. “Fine.” He mutters instead, jerking his gaze away as he feels his cheeks start to heat. “I guess I don’t have a choice then.”

“You don’t.” Zoro confirms, and then goes to get the linens he’d mentioned.

*****
Sanji registers two things when he wakes the next morning. First, that he aches in more places than he cares to admit, meaning Zoro had probably been right about him staying put last night. And second, that there’s sunlight streaming in through the window at an angle he’s not used to, such that he figures it’s time to get up.

Rolling over with a groan, he splays one arm across the expanse of the bed, taking a moment to simply breathe before he forces himself to move. It’s as empty as it had been the night before - Zoro having offered to make the sacrifice of sleeping on the couch - and he’s hit with an odd sense of annoyance the longer he dwells on that fact.

Hoping that’s not a sign he really does have a head injury, Sanji groans again but also forces himself to sit up. Happily, the room doesn’t spin, tilt, or otherwise move when he does so, so he swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands.

An insistent pull from the vicinity of his bladder sends him stumbling blindly for the bathroom, and it’s only once he’s done and has splashed some cold water over his face that he registers a number of smells that weren’t present the night before. Most importantly, those of coffee and bacon.

Intrigued, he wanders back out of the bathroom, following his nose until he reaches the kitchen. Inside - and he has to squint a bit thanks to his busted eye - he’s greeted with the sight of Zoro standing with a dish cloth tossed over one shoulder, prodding carefully at the contents of a frying pan with a spatula.

“I could have done that.” Sanji hears himself blurt as he watches the other man work. “It’d be the least I could do after imposing on you the way I have.”

Zoro barely spares him a glance as he continues lurking in the kitchen doorway. “If I considered this an imposition, I wouldn’t have let you stay.” He says, his good eye laser focused on the contents of the pan. “Go sit down before you fall down.”

“I'm not going to fall.” Sanji declares, annoyed enough that he now pads further into the kitchen. “It’s a couple of scrapes and bruises, Marimo. Certainly not enough to turn me into an invalid.”

He’s going to explain the early hour for why he startles when Zoro moves. One moment the other man is solely paying attention to their breakfast, and the next he’s turning with speed to hook two fingers beneath Sanji’s chin as he moves to step past him, tilting his head up so that he can see said scrapes and bruises in the light of day.

“These aren’t nothing.” He says firmly, hopefully oblivious to the way Sanji’s breath hitches at his touch. “Don’t try and downplay what happened.”

“Well the joke’s on you, Mossy.” Sanji says, injecting as much false levity into his voice as he can as he quickly pulls back and hurries to the waiting table. “Downplaying shit like last night is the only way I manage to make it through the day. That’s my coping mechanism 101.”

Zoro stares after him for a few seconds, his hand still outstretched like he hadn’t even realized he’d moved it to begin with, before he grunts. “You’re an idiot.” He says, turning back to the stove.

“Weak, Moss.” Sanji tells him. “That’s hardly the top of your repertoire when it comes to insulting me.”

“Yeah, well, someone had me up until the asscrack of dawn yesterday, so forgive me if I’m not at my best.” Zoro mutters, but it’s obvious his heart’s not really in it. “There’s a bunch of different drinks in the fridge. You can have whatever you want so long as you don’t touch my booze.”

“It’s the middle of the morning.” Sanji points out. “That’s a little early for alcohol, I’d say.”

“When it comes to dealing with you, Curls.” Zoro says. “There’s no such thing.”

They lapse into silence for a while after that, with Zoro continuing his breakfast preparations and Sanji opting to set the table for a lack of anything better to do. Eventually, the combination of eggs, bacon, and toast is ready, however, and they sit down to enjoy their meal.

“Not bad.” Sanji says after he’s taken a bite of lightly seasoned eggs. “I’m happy to announce that there’s at least one aspect of cooking that you’re not entirely useless at.”

“Funny.” Zoro retorts, spearing a strip of bacon with his own fork. “This may surprise you, but I did have to find some way to feed myself before you came along.”

“Touché.” Sanji says, saluting him with another forkful of eggs before he shoves them into his mouth. “Plus, I suppose you’ll have to go back to fending for yourself once I’m out of the picture.”

“I meant once our ruse is over and we’ve fake broken up.” He adds when his choice of wording causes an alarmed look to flash across Zoro’s face. “I imagine we won’t be hanging out as much once that’s done.”

“Guess not.” Zoro says, his shoulders losing a bit of their hunched posture and relaxing slightly.

“Right.” Sanji agrees. “And, uh, it’s up to you, of course, but I’d understand if what happened last night makes you want to back out earlier than planned. I meant it when I said I’d never hold you to anything you weren’t comfortable with.”

The resulting stink eye Zoro levels him with is one of the more impressive ones he’s seen in recent memory. “I’m a man of my word.” He says flatly. “And I don’t back down from a challenge.”

“Okay, but - ”

“Shut up and eat your breakfast, Curls. It’ll go cold if you don’t.”

“I’m aware.” Sanji says, rolling his eyes. “But I still want to make it clear that you don’t have to keep doing this if you don’t want to.”

“Of course I don’t.” Zoro retorts. “Nobody makes me do things I don’t want to. Except for maybe Nami and my sister. I said what I said, and I’m not going anywhere. Got it?”

“I guess.” Sanji says, and Zoro nods like that’s the end of things.

Chapter Text

No amount of wishful thinking is enough to make the bruises on Sanji’s face fully fade before his next shift at the Baratie, and Zeff clocks him the moment he steps through the door.

“Eggplant.” The old man’s voice cuts through the chatter of the kitchen like a knife through butter, furious enough that Sanji hunches his shoulders defensively. “My office. Now.”

Knowing when he’s beat, Sanji doesn’t bother trying to weasel his way out of the inevitable confrontation. Instead, he trudges silently after Zeff, noting the man’s stiff posture as he follows him into the tiny room off to the side.

“Sit.” Zeff says, nodding curtly at the more rickety of the two chairs that are near his invoice covered desk. “Let me get a good look at you.”

Again, Sanji does as he’s told and drops into the indicated chair without even bothering to take his coat off first. He also makes no attempt to avoid Zeff’s hovering form, and in fact lifts his chin without being asked when the older man leans down.

“Fucking hell.” Zeff breathes, his touch somehow similar but not to the way Zoro had moved him back and forth the other day as he’d taken in the extent of the damage. “Is this the worst of it?” He asks harshly. “Or is there more that I can’t see?”

Sanji gives him a grim smile that pulls at his busted lip. “I imagine you’ve patched me up enough over the years to know the answer to that question.” He says. “It could be worse, though. They didn’t break anything this time.”

“Are you sure about that?” Zeff wants to know, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Because it wouldn’t be the first time you lied to me about something like that, or just didn’t bother getting yourself properly checked out for that matter.”

“I’m sure.” Sanji promises, pulling back enough that he can slip free from the older man’s grasp. “And if you don’t believe me, you can ask Zoro.”

Both of Zeff’s bushy eyebrows fly up in surprise. “The Cabbage already knows about this?” He asks, his voice showing a similar reaction. “I’ll be honest. I’d have banked on you trying to hide it from him for as long as possible.”

In hindsight, maybe Sanji should have tried to do exactly that, but it’s obviously too late now. “I went over to his place the night it happened.” He hears himself say. “He wasn’t happy and got all fussy with a first aid kit. That’s part of how I know I’m good.”

“Hmm.” Zeff murmurs, and Sanji can’t for the life of him interpret what that’s supposed to mean. “Given that he and some of the others are already here today, I expect I’m fair in assuming that the whole mess hasn’t sent him running for the hills?”

“I told him I’d understand if he wanted to.” Honesty compels Sanji to admit. “And in the end I had more trouble convincing him not to track the trio down and try to fight them himself. Turns out he’s a really stubborn bastard.”

“Color me shocked.” Zeff mutters, rolling his eyes. “The likes of you ending up with someone stubborn. Who could possibly have seen this coming?”

“Very funny.” Sanji mumbles, fidgeting in his chair. “Anyway, now that you’ve proven for yourself that I’m not dying, can I get to work?”

“You may.” Zeff says, albeit only after a long enough pause that has Sanji worrying he’s going to get sent home to rest instead. “But not in the kitchen. You’re waiting tables tonight.”

Blanching, Sanji opens his mouth to demand why, only to close it with an abrupt snap. Zeff wants him out front for the exact same reason he has no desire to be anywhere near it. His friends are bound to notice the bruises on his face, meaning he’s going to have to tell them at least something.

“You’re the worst.” Sanji says aloud, appalled. “Just the absolute worst.”

“I love you too.” Zeff replies, smirking when Sanji squirms. “Now get moving.”

Grumbling under his breath, Sanji nevertheless stands to go change into his work clothes. Once that’s done, he throws an apron on over the whole ensemble, stomping out into the dining area with a pad and paper in hand.

It’s a full house tonight, and by that Sanji’s not referring to the dining room itself. The entire crew are present, to the extent that they’ve had to cram multiple tables together in order to fit everyone in the same spot.

For the briefest of moments he wonders if Zoro had somehow arranged this, but one glance at the other man’s face is enough to banish that thought from his mind. The swordsman looks downright apologetic, like he’s all too aware that Sanji is going to hate the position he’s about to be put in.

Luffy’s the next person to spot him, and starts his usual enthusiastic waving, only to pause as Sanji draws closer. A frown then spreads across his normally happy face, and his dark brown eyes turn serious.

“Sanji.” He says, and, yep, his tone is definitely the most somber Sanji’s ever heard it. “What happened to you?”

His words are more than enough to draw everyone else’s attention, and as one their gazes lock on Sanji. Multiple freeze, their expressions alarmed, and he’s pretty sure he hears at least one gasp once he’s close enough.

Plastering a fake smile on his face, Sanji moves to cut off any comments at the pass. “I’m fine.” He says before anyone else has a chance to speak. “I had a little accident over the weekend, that’s all, but it’s healing nicely.”

“That doesn’t look little.” Usopp says, with Nami next to him looking troubled. Meanwhile, Chopper’s already half out of his seat, despite the fact that both Robin and Zoro try to reach out to stop him.

“It doesn’t look little because it isn’t.” The doctor says, expertly evading their friends’ grasp. “Sanji, you come here so I can take a look at you.”

“I’ve already been looked at.” Sanji insists, which is technically true, even if a trained medical professional hadn’t technically been involved. “I got checked out the night it happened and everything’s good.”

“Where?” Chopper demands, planting his hands on his hips. “Which hospital did you go to, and who did you see? Did they do any scans? Prescribe any meds? Have you been checked for a concussion?”

“Chopper, I promise, I’ve got a clean bill of health.” Sanji says, holding up a hand to try and ward off any more questions. “I’m just a little tired and sore, so I’ve been taking things easy since it happened. You can ask the Moss, if you like. I stayed with him that night just to be safe.”

Zoro gives him a look that indicates he’s unimpressed with Sanji using him as a shield, but he nevertheless nods when Chopper turns worried eyes on him. “It’s true.” He says. “I even let him have the bed to himself so I wouldn’t bump him by accident, and I checked on him a couple times through the night. There were no signs of a concussion.”

“Thank goodness.” Chopper breathes a quiet sigh of relief, and a few of the others make similar noises of agreement. “Still, Sanji, you’re looking pretty rough. Are you sure you should be working today?”

“Zeff okayed it.” Sanji says quickly. “And you can trust me when I say that he’d toss my ass out the door if he thought I shouldn’t be here.”

“Still … ” Chopper looks like he wants to argue some more, but he must see something in Sanji’s face that convinces him not to bother. Huffing slightly, he goes to reclaim his seat and picks up his menu. “I think everyone’s ready to order if you’re up for it.”

Grateful for the ability to be able to cling to even this small shred of normalcy, Sanji nods and holds up his pad, clicking his pen to further indicate that people should start telling him what they want. He then goes around the table, carefully writing down individual orders, until he gets to Zoro who unexpectedly shifts in his seat.

The warm hand that reaches up to curl around Sanji’s neck, resting at an awkward angle just below his jaw, easily takes him by surprise. Freezing in place, he flicks his gaze over to Zoro’s face, curious to see the way the other man’s good eye is peering at his visible injuries.

“The bruising’s looking a fair bit better than it did the other day.” Zoro finally grunts. “But you still look like shit.”

Sagging slightly in the other man’s hold, Sanji sighs. “You know as well as I do that marks like these often look worse than they feel. I’m fine, and the swelling’s already gone down immensely.”

“Hmm.” As if it’s now dawned on him that they’re in public, Zoro draws his hand back, but continues staring at Sanji. “You’re still icing it then?”

“Yes, Mom.” Sanji huffs, rolling his eyes and then regretting it thanks to the way the skin pulls around the busted one. “You can come over later and watch me if you want proof. Although, I imagine that would make for a pretty boring night.”

To his surprise, Zoro doesn’t so much as bat an eye. “I could do that.” He says instead. “What time’s your shift done tonight?”

Possibly against his better judgment, Sanji tells him. “You’re not staying long, though.” He’s quick to add. “I’ve got plans to go to the farmer’s market tomorrow, and I’m leaving first thing in the morning to try and get the best produce.”

Again, Zoro doesn’t pause. “D’you want me to come with?” He asks. “I can help you carry shit, or whatever. Might be easier for you given the state of your ribs.”

“Fine.” Sanji hears himself say, not really taking any time to think about it. “But you’d better get there on time. If you make me late, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Just text me the details.” Zoro says, and that’s the end of it.

*****
The two of them draw more than one curious gaze as they make their way from stall to stall the next morning. Sanji’s well known to most of the vendors who sell at the farmer’s market - certainly to all of the regular ones - and the same again goes for the fact that he always comes here alone. He’s never brought anyone with him before, let alone someone like Zoro.

“You do kind of stand out.” He admits, after the other man comments on the looks they’re getting. He’s just purchased a small bag of peppers from a woman named Jessica, whose eyes had narrowed when he’d casually handed them off to Zoro. “And I only ever show up here by myself.”

“Not even with Zeff?” Zoro asks, part of his attention focused on the act of rearranging the basket he’s carrying so that nothing gets squished. “With how he feels about fresh produce, I figure he’d love this place.”

“Zeff and I don’t associate with each other outside of the Baratie.” Sanji replies before he can think better of it. Luckily, they’re moving through the crowd now, and no one’s paying any attention to them. “And the fact that we do there is risky enough. If Judge knew I was hanging around him again, he’d freak.”

“What do you mean by again?”

“That’s not important.” Sanji says, unwilling to reveal anything more. “And you already got an answer to your earlier question.”

Zoro makes a grumbling noise next to him, but thankfully doesn’t push. Instead, he continues following Sanji obediently from stall to stall, showing no sign of discomfort as he gets more and more loaded down by purchases.

“I’m starting to think I should bring you around here more often.” Sanji says as he adds a few jars of preservatives to the mix. “Being able to keep my hands free while doing this has been a treat. You’re sure this all isn’t too heavy?”

“It’s fine.” Zoro says with surprising earnestness. “And I can come back again if you like, I don’t mind.”

“Funny.” Sanji laughs. “Because this really doesn’t seem like your scene.”

Zoro shrugs, the motion in no way impeded by the basket he’s carrying, and Sanji comes to a sudden decision. “We’re almost done here, but there’s another tent sent up near the entrance where they sell snacks and drinks. Do you want to grab something? Consider it my treat and a way of saying thank you for your help.”

Again, Zoro shrugs, but this time there’s a pleased little grin lurking around the corner of his mouth. “I could eat.” He admits. “Especially if you’re the one paying.”

“Naturally.” Sanji says with an amused shake of his head. “Come on then. It’s this way.”

Exactly the same way he has all morning, Zoro trundles after him without complaint. Part of Sanji’s surprised by the extended civility, but the other man seems to be genuinely enjoying himself, so who is he to judge?

The selection at the tent Sanji had mentioned is larger than one might have expected, but still hardly boasts the ability to obtain a full meal. Instead they walk away with an iced tea for him and a coffee for Zoro, along with a handful of assorted baked goods for them to split.

“There’s a few tables in the shade over there.” Sanji says, gesturing with the hand not holding their drinks. “Let’s grab one.”

“Works for me.” Zoro says, and shortly after that they’re both settling down to enjoy their purchases.

“Careful not to let anyone bump into the basket.” Sanji says, but when he looks down, he finds that Zoro’s already safely stored the whole thing under their table, meaning that his produce should be well protected. “Oh, perfect.”

Zoro’s mid-sip of coffee so he can’t easily say anything, but he does flash Sanji a thumbs up with his free hand to get his point across.

Sighing happily, Sanji takes a sip of his own drink, and leans back in his seat. “This was a good idea.” He says aloud. “Usually when I come here I’m so tired by the time I’m done that all I want to do is leave and go home. With you around to play packmule, it wasn’t nearly as rough, and I finished way quicker than I normally do.”

“So you admit I’m not entirely useless then.” Zoro says, laughing when Sanji tries to maneuver around the basket and kick him under the table.

“Not entirely useless, no.” He finally says after giving up in the attempt. “Although that’s not really saying much. In fact - oh wow.” His thoughts entirely derailed when he catches sight of the woman who’s just finished at the register and is now walking away with a plate of pastries in hand. “I think that’s the Gothic Princess.”

“Huh?” His own attention still focused on Sanji, Zoro’s eyebrows raise when the blond sits up straighter in his seat.

“The Gothic Princess.” Sanji repeats, squinting to try and get a better look at where the woman is now sitting down at a table located at the opposite side of the tent from theirs. “She’s an influencer of some note. You actually follow her on Instagram, but I’ve often wondered if that was an accident on your part. I didn’t realize she was local.”

Having apparently realized that Sanji’s attention now lies elsewhere, Zoro twists in his seat until he can see the woman as well. His good eye widens when he finally spots her pink hair and ruffled dress, after which he lets out an inelegant snort.

“Why am I not surprised?” He asks, seemingly uttering the question to the empty air around them. “Of course you’d be a fan of someone like her.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sanji demands, and this time when he tries to kick the brute under the table, he succeeds. “She’s cute, I like her style, and she posts food pictures as much as she does anything else. I enjoy seeing what she comes up with.”

“Again, not surprised.” Zoro says. “Do you want me to introduce you?”

Sanji snorts. “You say that as if you know her personally.” He says, throwing in an eye roll for good measure. “Absolutely not, I refuse to be one of those weirdos who can’t leave celebrities alone when they’re out in public.”

Zoro rolls his own eye in return. “She’s hardly a celebrity.” He says, looking pained. “So, c’mon.” He adds, standing up from the table. “Let’s go say hi.”

“What? No! Moss!” Squawking in protest, Sanji grabs for Zoro’s sleeve as he starts to rise, his efforts proving to be in vain when this just makes it easier for the other man to drag him along with him. “Damnit, Zoro, I said no!”

Continuing to ignore him, Zoro twists his arm in a move that allows him to snatch Sanji by the elbow. He then uses this hold to propel him across the tent and over to where the young woman is enjoying her snack.

“Oi!” He calls, not particularly loudly, but in a way that causes the woman’s head to jerk up, her heavily mascaraed eyes widening when she spots them coming. “I’ve got someone here who wants to meet you.”

“Oh my god, Marimo, you idiot!” Sanji hisses, surging forward so he can plant his free hand on Zoro’s chest and try to force the big brute backwards. “Miss, I am so sorry!” He adds, giving the startled woman his most apologetic look. “You’ll have to forgive my partner here. I’m afraid he has the manners of a stray dog, but I promise I’m trying to work on it.”

“Your … partner?” The woman says, her eyes somehow managing to get impossibly wider as her gaze darts back and forth between the two of them.

Sanji blinks, belatedly realizing his choice of wording, and then deciding it’s not important. “I’m afraid so.” He says instead, elbowing Zoro in the side. “And he is very sorry for interrupting your meal. Very sorry, and we were just leaving. Right, Mossball?”

Rather than heed the warning tone in Sanji’s voice, Zoro raises his own free hand and points at him. “He’s a fan.” He says simply. “Of your … whatever frou frou shit it is you’re posting online these days. You should let him take a selfie or something.”

“Goddamnit, Grass-For-Brains!” Sanji sputters, but the damage is done. They’re companion has brought her hands to her mouth in an attempt to cover up the snicker she’s just let out, and the only bright side to that is at least she’s not calling the cops on them for being a pair of crazy stalkers.

“We can take a selfie.” She says once she’s managed to get herself under control. “But with my phone, and it’s going on my account. What’s your handle?”

Too shocked to say no in the face of these events, Sanji gives it to her. Then, the next thing he knows she’s climbing up out of her seat, and standing next to him with an annoyed sounding Zoro looming in the background when she insists that the photo include all three of them.

“So cute.” She coos, beaming down at her phone screen once she’s snapped the picture. “Even with this lug glaring at the camera.” She notes, flashing Zoro a saccharine sweet smile that makes him glare even harder. “I am so happy you two stopped to say hi.”

“Stopping is all we’re doing.” Zoro announces, while Sanji’s still trying to find words to respond with. “Curly’s got half a stall’s worth of food he needs to get home soon, so we can’t stay.”

“Uh huh.” The Gothic Princess - Sanji hasn’t gotten her real name during all this, and he’s not about to ask for it at this point - bats her eyes at him. “Well, regardless, this has been an enlightening experience. We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

“Not fucking likely.” Zoro mutters, but thankfully he does it under his breath so the poor woman can’t hear him. Or, at least Sanji doesn’t think she can. Her eyes do narrow slightly, however, so maybe he’s wrong about that.

Either way, it’s time to put an end to this entire mortifying ordeal. Fisting a hand in Zoro’s shirt, he uses his hold to steer the other man back towards their table, scolding him all the while.

“Please,” Zoro finally huffs after Sanji’s been venting for a solid minute and a half. “She clearly thought you were adorable, since she wouldn’t have offered to snap a photo with you if she hadn’t.”

“Oh yes, because I’m sure you’re a complete expert on a woman you’ve just met.” Sanji says waspishly. “She probably just did it to get us the hell away from her, and we’ll be lucky if she doesn’t try and take out a restraining order.”

For some reason, all these entirely valid concerns do is make Zoro laugh.

“You’re the worst.” Sanji sighs.

*****
Sanji has every intention of repressing all thoughts of the incident with Gothic Princess to the best of his ability. Unfortunately, the universe apparently has other plans, which is no doubt why he gets a call from a number that he rarely sees on his phone the very next morning.

“Whatever it is, I didn’t do it.” He says preemptively, even while his stomach twists into knots and his thoughts immediately start spiraling towards worst case scenarios. “What do you want?”

“Not me,” Reiju’s voice says on the other end of the line. “Father has something he urgently needs to discuss with you. He’s insisting that you get yourself over to the house by no later than noon today.”

Trying to ignore the sudden pounding of his heart, Sanji flicks his eyes over to the clock above his stove. “It’s after ten already, and I’m busy. Tell him whatever it is is going to have to wait.”

“Is that really how you want to play this?” Reiju asks, sharp enough that Sanji knows she means business. “He’s not telling me or the boys anything, so I’m going to have to caution you against pressing him.”

“Fuck.” Sanji says eloquently. “You’ve got nothing? Really?”

“Not a thing.” His sister confirms. “Are you sure you don’t have any idea what it could be about?”

“Please,” Sanji snorts. “If he’s keeping the rest of you in the dark, he’s certainly not telling me anything. I’ll need a bit to tidy things up here, and then I’ll be over. Do me a favor, though. If he actually kills me this time, at least make sure I get a decent funeral.”

“That’s not funny, Sanji.”

“Who’s joking?” Sanji grumbles as he hangs up the phone.

He takes a moment to try and get his breathing under control, his gaze roaming around the confines of his kitchen as he does so. Only once he’s pretty sure he can move without shaking does he switch off the stove, and then it’s a matter of quickly putting the kitchen to rights before he’s grabbing his keys and heading out the door.

The house that Judge had built himself several years ago in one of his first bids to show off his wealth is no more inviting this morning than it ever is. Sanji nods stiffly when a staff person opens the front door for him, and he has to fight to keep a grimace off his face as he’s led through the halls towards Judge’s office.

As soon as they reach the matching set of double doors, the man who’d escorted him knocks once, rather sharply. An equally sharp voice from inside announces that the door is open, at which point the staff member turns the knob and motions for Sanji to move along.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind him puts Sanji in mind of some kind of death knell, and he’s not sure if he should be relieved or nervous about the fact that there’s no one other than Judge already in the room. Squaring his shoulders, he shoves his hands in his pockets and does his best to hide his nerves.

“You wanted to see me.” He says, hoping with everything he has that Judge hasn’t found out about his time at the Baratie. “I’m assuming it’s important given how fast I was told to get over here.”

“You assume correctly.” Judge informs him. There’s a strange lilt to his voice that Sanji can’t for the life of him place, and he gravely picks a tablet up from the surface of his desk. Thumbing it to life, he keys in something that Sanji can’t see from his current vantage point and gives him a long look.

“How long have you been seeing Dracule Mihawk’s son?”

Sanji freezes, completely taken aback by the question. “How long have I what?” He asks, his own brain working furiously to try and figure out how the older man has come to such an outlandish conclusion.

Judge, however, continues staring at him intensely, the tablet balanced in one meaty hand. “How long,” he repeats, “have you been seeing Dracule Mihawk’s son?”

Sanji shakes his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He says. “I’ve never met Dracule Mihawk’s son. Hell, I barely know who the father is, let alone his child.”

“Children,” Judge corrects gravely. “And this suggests otherwise.”

“Come again?” Sanji asks, but when Judge flaps his free hand at him impatiently, he leans forward to glance at the screen as indicated.

It’s the photo from the other day, he realizes, his heart sinking. He’d gotten a notification on his Instagram account that he’d been tagged in something, but hadn’t yet worked up the nerve to look at it. Now, however, he’s got no choice, and he feels his jaw drop when he reads the caption.

Ran into my dorky baby brother at the market this morning, along with the adorable boyfriend he’s apparently been hiding from me for who knows how long. @Blackleg_Sanji, you are *way* out of this dummy’s league, but I guarantee you we’ll see each other again soon!

Stunned, Sanji pulls back from the tablet. “I … ” He starts, his mouth working but no real words successfully coming out. “I don’t … ”

Judge doesn’t appear to care about his sudden inability to speak. “Based on her choice of wording, I’m going to guess this was the first time you’d met the daughter, but that’s fine since you also seem to have made a good impression. Mihawk’s well known for indulging his children’s alternative lifestyles. Probably because he’s insane in his own right. If you’ve somehow managed to snag the boy, however, this is a perfect in with all of his father’s society connections.”

He pauses then, the gleam in his eye fading slightly as he focuses back on Sanji. “You have caught him, haven’t you?” He demands sharply. “If this is all some kind of mistake, I’m not going to be pleased.”

“He has a name.” Sanji says, blurting out the first thing he can think of. “It’s Zoro.”

“Yes, I’m aware.” Judge says, rolling his eyes. “Roronoa Zoro and Perona. Mihawk adopted them both after they lost their parents young, and for some reason let them keep their family names. Why they’d prefer that over his, I haven’t the faintest idea, but again, he’s known for humoring them.”

“In fact, that’s why I’ve never even laid eyes on the boy, I suspect.” Judge notes, apparently not really needing Sanji to contribute anything to their conversation. “The girl occasionally attends functions with Mihawk, so I recognized her. Her brother looks like a beast, though.”

“Hey,” Sanji snaps without meaning to, but falls silent when Judge cuts him off with a sharp wave of his hand.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” He says, his eyes narrowing. “How long has this been going on?”

“A couple of months.” Sanji says, figuring he may as well stick to the original script even if this isn’t at all playing out the way he’d imagined it would. “We met through a … mutual friend.”

“I don’t give a damn how you met.” Judge scowls. “What I care about is the fact that you didn’t tell me. I’d never have approached Charlotte Linlin if I’d had any idea you had something like this in the works. A connection to Mihawk is ten times more valuable than one to her. His pockets are just as deep, but he’s more respected by far.”

Sanji stares at him. “I’m not dating the guy because of who his father is!” He snaps, aghast. “I don’t give a shit about that.”

And not just because I didn’t even fucking know. He adds privately in the recesses of his own mind.

“You should.” Judge replies. “Because his family connections are the only reason I’m prepared to tolerate this … relationship. If he were actually the vagabond he looks like, you and I would be having a very different discussion right now.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Sanji says, unable to believe what he’s hearing. “Please, for the love of god, tell me you’re not giving me your seal of approval because you think my boyfriend can get you what you want.”

“Well he’s got no other value to me, but don’t you dare let him know otherwise.” Judge retorts. “For once in your life you’ve managed to do something right. Fuck it up at your own peril.”

“Now,” he adds, giving Sanji a piercing look. “You already know I’m expecting you to be in attendance at that charity gala event a few weeks from today. I believe Mihawk is also on the list of invitees, so I expect you to arrange a proper introduction between the two of us at that time. Do I make myself clear?”

“No promises.” Sanji sneers, and before Judge can reprimand him, he turns around and stalks out of the room.

*****
“Hey, Curls, I didn’t know you were planning on - whoa! Where’s the fire?!”

Having been abruptly cut off by Sanji planting a hand on his shoulder and physically forcing his way into the apartment, Zoro narrowly avoids slamming into the doorway when Sanji marches past him.

“Uh, Curls? Something on your mind?”

Whirling around to face him, Sanji jabs a finger into the other man’s chest and leans forward until they’re practically nose to nose. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me that Dracule fucking Mihawk is your fucking father?”

Thanks to how closely they’re pressed together, Sanji suspects Zoro would now be going cross eyed if not for the fact that he no longer has enough eyes to do so. “You didn’t know?” He replies, sounding genuinely confused.

Gaping at him, Sanji takes a single step back so that he has enough space to fling his hands in the air without damaging anything. “Of course I didn’t know!” He roars, loud enough that Zoro leans away a bit. “How the fuck was I supposed to know when you didn’t fucking tell me?!”

Zoro shrugs as best as his position pressed up against the wall allows. “Everyone knows.” He says, sounding mildly put out by the fact. “It’s not like it’s a secret.”

“Well it was to me!” Sanji snaps. “I can’t believe you didn’t warn me about this.”

“Warn you?” Zoro blinks, and then his eye narrows slightly. “It’s not like it’s a bad thing.”

“Correction,” Sanji says flatly. “It’s a disaster. Your stupid parentage has gone and ruined our whole plan.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Huffing, Sanji takes a couple more steps back and scrubs a hand tiredly over his face. “Judge found out about us. About the us that we’ve been pretending to be, I mean. That picture your sister took with us - and thanks for the heads up about her by the way - somehow made it onto his radar, and he dragged me over to explain myself this morning.”

“Oh shit.” Zoro mutters, one hand coming up and hovering near a spot where some of Sanji’s bruises have yet to fully fade. “Did he - ?”

“No. No, nothing like that.” Sanji says, laughing mirthlessly. “For the first time in my life, he was thrilled about something I’d done.”

Zoro frowns. “But I thought - you said I was the exact kind of person he’d hate the most.”

“You were,” Sanji explains tiredly. “Right up until he realized that you have wealth, power, and connections. The three things he wants most in this world. You’re not a mistake to be avoided at all costs like we were planning on, Marimo. Not to him. Instead, you’re the fucking golden goose.”

“Oh.” Zoro says quietly. “I’m - sorry?”

Sanji waves his apology away, feeling abruptly exhausted. “This is such a mess.” He says, bringing both his hands up to massage his temples in the wake of an oncoming headache. “I don’t even know where to start to try and sort it all out.”

“That’s fair, but, uh.” Zoro pauses, looking unusually squirrelly all of a sudden. “We might, uh, actually have more than one problem? Just. As it happens.”

Sanji stares at him. “What,” he says icily. “Is that supposed to mean?”

Zoro squirms under the weight of Sanji’s expression. “Sooo, it’s possible that Perona might have told Mihawk about you because she’s an obnoxious brat like that. And it’s also possible that he might have said he wants to meet you. Next Friday. During supper at his place.”

It takes Sanji a minute to parse through what the hell that all means. “Moss, are you telling me that your stupidly rich father thinks this insanity of ours is real as well, and now wants to have me over for some kind of ‘meet the parents’ situation?”

“Pretty much.”

Sanji lets a harsh breath out through his nose and then squares his legs with intent. “Hold still.” He says firmly. “You owe me at least one solid kick without trying to block it, and I intend to make it count.”

“C’mon, Curls.” Zoro whines in the face of the obvious threat. “That’s not fair. I didn’t know he was gonna do this. Mihawk’s never been interested in anyone I’ve dated before.”

“We are not dating.” Sanji snaps. “Although fuck knows we might have to keep faking it indefinitely if I like my face the way it is. Judge was very clear about what would happen to me if I let you go and cost him a potential connection to your father.”

Zoro’s expression darkens. “He’ll regret it if he tries anything like that. What happened the other night - he’s not going to pull a stunt like that again. I won’t let him.”

“And how exactly do you intend to stop him?” Sanji wants to know. “Trust me, dumbass. Judge is not someone who’s used to hearing the word no. If I wave an opportunity like this in his face and then rip it away, he might just kill me this time.”

Zoro glances up and down the length of Sanji’s body, his frown still firmly etched in place. “I can’t actually tell if you’re being serious or not.” He says grumpily. “But I definitely am, and I said what I said. Judge isn’t going to hurt you again. Him or your stupid brothers.”

Unreasonably touched by this but not wanting to show it, Sanji needs a moment to gather his thoughts. “I think we should keep going as we have been for now.” He says after several seconds of awkward silence have passed. “We need some time to regroup and figure out what the best way to proceed is.”

“You do like being able to come up with a plan of attack.” Zoro says philosophically. “But what about supper? I can only put Mihawk off for so long. Or, well, moreso I can only put Perona off for so long, but don’t listen to what anyone says. He’s as much of a gossipy bitch as she is, so when he says he wants to meet you, he means it.”

“Wonderful.” Sanji huffs. “I mean, I don’t have a shift, so I can technically make it. Are you okay with that, though? Won’t it make things worse for you when we fake break up if your family’s gotten involved?”

“I don’t see why it would.” Zoro says, shrugging. “They’re used to me being single.”

“That wasn’t - ” About to say that wasn’t what he’d meant, Sanji pauses when it dawns on him that he honestly has no idea where he’d been intending to go with that sentence. “Fine.” He says instead. “Should I bring anything when I come?”

“Like what?” Zoro asks. “Food? Nah, Mihawk’s got his own cooks on staff, so I’m sure he’ll take care of everything. Basically you should just have to show up, suffer through a couple hours of awkward conversation, and then you can leave again.”

“Sounds fun.” Sanji mutters, half stuck on the notion of Zoro’s family being apparently wealthy enough to have multiple cooks on retainer. “I can’t wait.”

*****

In actuality, when Friday evening rolls around and Sanji finds himself standing outside a massive manor that puts the Vinsmoke stronghold to shame, he’s a little afraid he may have sweated through the blazer he’s wearing.

“This is a mistake.” He mumbles, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot as he waits for the door to open. “Me being here is absolutely a mistake.”

“It’s fine.” Zoro says from where he’s standing next to him, albeit also while fidgeting on the front step. “Honestly, the chances are good that Mihawk’s going to like you better than he does me. You’re all prissy and classy and shit, like him.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Sanji demands, barely resisting the urge to lash out and kick the idiot. “Because if it is, I’ve got to tell you, you suck at them.”

He sees Zoro open his mouth to respond out of the corner of his eye, but before the other man gets a chance the doorknob in front of them turns and the door slowly creaks open. This motion reveals a staff person in a dark suit standing on the other side, and the man inclines his head when he spots them.

“Good evening, gentlemen.” He says, his tone far more grave than Sanji feels the situation warrants. “Mr. Dracule is waiting for you in his favorite sitting room, along with Miss Perona.”

“Great, they’re planning to double team me.” Zoro mutters as he ducks past the staff person and inside the building. “I fucking love it when they do that.”

“May I take your coats?” The older man asks, seemingly oblivious to Zoro’s lack of manners, or perhaps he’s simply just used to them. “There’s a hall closet nearby where they can be stored.”

“Yeah, I did grow up here, thanks.” Zoro mutters, already shrugging out of the indicated article of clothing. “What about you, Curls? You can keep yours if you like. It’s up to you.”

“No, it’s fine. Thank you.” Sanji says, quickly taking off his own jacket and handing it over. “Um, I think you said the family was in a sitting room. Would you mind pointing out where that is?”

His question is met with a simple set of directions, and he flashes the most winning smile he can muster in gratitude. After that, he takes a deep breath, grabs Zoro by the arm so as to not lose him, and prepares to march towards his doom.

“They’re not going to kill you.” Zoro huffs when he says as much aloud. “Trust me,” he adds. “The bigger problem we’re risking is that they’re going to love you, and then I’m going to be in shit for letting you go.”

“Please,” Sanji scoffs. “Your dad’s going to take one look at me, and wonder what the hell you’re thinking.”

“Do you seriously want to argue about this now?”

Maybe not, but it beats letting his nerves get the best of him. Especially since the damn things are ramping up tenfold with every step he takes further into the mansion. This whole night is a terrible idea, and Sanji can’t believe he’s let himself get talked into attending.

“Well it’s not like you put up that much of a fight.” Zoro snarls, but their hissed argument then comes to an end when they both spot a light up ahead in the hallway they’re currently walking along. If he listens carefully, Sanji thinks he can make out the faint sound of voices, so he takes a deep breath and then falls silent.

The so-called sitting room turns out to be something more akin to a Victorian Era parlor. The main source of light comes from a fire that’s crackling away in the fireplace, along with two electric wall sconces that are mounted on either side of the mantle. The flames from the fire cast odd shadows that dance along the walls and all the way up to the high ceiling, not to mention across the faces of the two people who are waiting for them.

Perona spots them first, and she cuts herself off mid-sentence with a happy little gasp. “You’re here!” She says, setting down the crystal glass she’d been holding and shoving herself out of the cushioned armchair where she’d been comfortably ensconced. “Good job on not scaring him away, Zee.”

“Fuck off.” Zoro replies, earning himself a surprisingly weighty punch to the shoulder when his sister draws near enough. “Ow!”

“You deserved it.” Perona says without batting an eye. “Now. Introduce me. Properly this time, I mean. Don’t try and pull another dine and dash stunt like you did the other day.”

“Whatever.” Zoro grunts, rolling his eye. “Rona, Curls. Curls, Rona. I’m fully confident that the two of you are going to get along like a house on fire, so I’ll let you both take it from here.”

“Ugh, as always, you’re a complete embarrassment.” Perona says, shaking her head. Then she holds out her hand to Sanji, the expectation that he take it plain. “It’s so nice to meet you, even though I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you.”

“The pleasure’s mine, Madam.” Sanji says gravely, and instead of accepting her proffered hand to shake it, he presses a kiss to the back, making her giggle and Zoro roll his eye. “I will say that I have heard about you, but I’m pretty sure your brother’s told me nothing but scurrilous lies that I won’t be repeating.”

“He does that.” Perona agrees, nodding sagely. “Remind me later and I’ll break out the baby pictures to pay him back. Mihawk was surprisingly good at documenting our formative years.” She adds over the sound of Zoro’s affronted squawk.

Sanji grins and lets her hand go. “I look forward to it.”

“Not fucking likely.” Zoro mutters, but he’s stalled from saying anything further by a tired sigh.

“Zoro, don’t swear,” Mihawk says, his tone suggesting that he’s made this request nigh on a million times before. Having vacated his own chair, the older man glides over to the spot where the three of them are clustered, shaking his head as he moves. “I’d appreciate it if you could at least appear to know what manners are.”

“It’s okay.” Sanji says quickly, not wanting things to start spiraling so early in the evening. He nods at Zoro and then gives his father the most charming smile he can muster. “I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to go out with him, and I actually do like him the way he is.”

“Fascinating.” Mihawk replies, and in a motion similar to his daughter’s, he holds out an elegant hand to shake. “Dracule Mihawk.” He says sombrely. “Charmed, I’m sure.”

“Uh, Sanji. Sanji Black.” Sanji tells him, taking the man’s hand as indicated. He’s momentarily surprised to find that the limb is heavily calloused, but then he remembers Mihawk’s profession and realizes the callouses are the exact same kind that Zoro has from wielding his own swords.

“Interesting.” Mihawk says next, which Sanji can’t decide if that’s better or worse than ‘fascinating’. Especially not with the way the man’s eerie golden eyes seem to be piercing right through him. “Do you know, you bear a remarkable resemblance to the children of a rather … unpleasant individual that I’ve had occasion to run into at society events. I was honestly expecting you to have a very different last name.”

Oh worse, it’s definitely, definitely worse. Swallowing heavily, Sanji doesn’t miss the way Mihawk’s grip has imperceptibly tightened where he’s yet to release his hold. This man knows exactly who he is, and he’s not happy about it.

Sanji takes approximately five seconds to consider and discard half a dozen possible responses, before deciding that the only way out is through. Squaring just shoulders, he does his best to meet Mihawk’s gaze without flinching and clears his throat. “If you were expecting it to be Vinsmoke, I’m afraid I prefer to go by my mother’s maiden name.”

“I see.” Mihawk says, and the way he suddenly releases Sanji’s hand, it makes him feel like he’s passed some kind of test. “How unusual.”

“Not really,” Sanji says. Drawing his hand back, he barely resists the urge to shove both of them in his pockets, positive that might be seen as some sign of weakness. “I was always much closer to her, and it seemed like a nice way to honour her when she died.”

“Ah.” Mihawk says, for the first time looking a little flustered during this bizarre exchange. “My condolences.”

Sanji shrugs. “Thanks, but it was a long time ago.”

An awkward silence descends over the room, only to be broken by Zoro of all people clearing his throat. “So, if you’re done prying into my boyfriend’s personal life for the time being,” he says, giving Mihawk a dirty look, “maybe we could get some food around here?”

Mihawk doesn’t so much as bat an eye. “Supper won’t be ready for at least another half an hour.” He says coolly. “Given your reoccurring directional quandaries, I instructed the cooks to build a buffer into the preparation time. I can only assume that we have Sanji to thank for getting you here when you were originally supposed to be. I’ll have to account for him when next we do this.”

Well that doesn’t sound like he’s made a terrible first impression, Sanji decides. Unfortunately, what it does sound like is that Mihawk expects him to keep coming around. That may not bode well for his and Zoro’s future endeavors.

“Still,” Mihawk’s saying now. “That should give us some time to get to know each other better. Why don’t you boys have a seat, and perhaps I can get you both drinks.”

“Um, sure. Thank you.” Sanji says, deciding to follow Zoro’s lead and settle down on a small, two-person couch that just barely manages to hold the pair of them. “A drink sounds great.”

“Excellent. Perona and I have been enjoying a lovely wine vintage, but there are plenty of other options.” Having wandered over to a small cart that’s stacked with various bottles, Mihawk lets his hand hover over top of it. “Zoro, there’s no beer, so perhaps a whiskey for you?”

“Sure.” Zoro grunts, while Sanji confirms that he’s perfectly happy with wine.

“It’s from one of my own vineyards.” Mihawk notes when he hands the glass over. “I have several that have been in the family for generations, but this is a particular favorite. Do tell me what you think.”

Taking a cautious sip, Sanji’s pleased to find that the flavor bursts pleasantly over his tongue, meaning he doesn’t have to try and bluff his way through saying something nice. “What I think is that I have a number of dishes at the Baratie that this would pair perfectly with.”

“The Baratie?” Mihawk echoes, while Perona looks intrigued as he reclaims the seat next to hers. “That sounds vaguely familiar. Isn’t that the name of a seafood restaurant down by the waterfront? The one that serves high end cuisine but at a price anyone can afford?”

“That’s definitely the owner’s motto.” Sanji says with a tiny laugh. “Zeff’s a firm believer in the idea that food is meant to be shared.”

“A noble intention to be sure.” Mihawk replies. “And how are you connected to this establishment? As a silent partner, perhaps?”

“Hmm? Oh, no. Nothing like that. I - ” Sanji shoots a pleading look at Zoro, but gets only a confused shrug in response. “I just like to cook, is all. And I’ve known Zeff since I was a kid. He, uh, used to work for my - for the Vinsmokes. Until the accident where he lost his leg.”

“And now you work for him.” Mihawk surmises, correctly as it happens. “How on earth did that come about?”

“Fuck, would you stop digging?” Having apparently caught onto the fact that they’re straying into dangerous territory, Zoro leans forward with his glass in his hands. “How about instead of asking him how he became a cook, you ask him if he’s any good?”

Mihawk’s gaze flicks over to his son’s face, the corners of his mouth turning up in the barest hint of a smirk. “Well, is he?”

Zoro bares his teeth. “The best I’ve ever seen. You’d fire the whole staff on the spot if you tasted his stuff and thought you had a chance of getting him to come work for you for good.”

“My, that’s high praise coming from you.” Crossing one long leg over the other, Mihawk leans back in his seat with his own glass held aloft. “I’m impressed.”

“You should be.” Zoro starts, and it’s clear he intends to say more until a heavily blushing Sanji quiets him with two fingers pressed to his arm.

“Moss.” Sanji murmurs, his face heating even more when Zoro’s stormy gray eye turns to look at him. “It’s fine.”

“No, it isn’t.” That protest comes from, of all people, Perona, who gives first the two of them and then her father a stern look. After which, she nudges the older man sharply with the toe of her shoe. “He doesn’t like Vinsmoke Judge, which is why he’s being so pushy.” She says loftily. “But he also promised to give you the benefit of the doubt and form an independent opinion of you. Right, old man?”

The room goes quiet until the only sound is that of the logs crackling in the fireplace, and Mihawk gives his daughter a flat stare. She meets his gaze levelly, however, until he lets out a small, self deprecating sigh.

“You’re quite right, Perona.” He says, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. “My apologies, Sanji. I will be entirely frank in admitting that I don’t care for your father, but that doesn’t mean I should be painting you with the same brush. What I should be doing is recognizing you as an entirely separate individual.”

“Now then.” He adds, saluting Sanji with his wine glass. “Shall we start over?”

*****
The evening becomes considerably less awkward once Mihawk stops interrogating him, to the point that Sanji could almost say he’s enjoying himself. He’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop, however, so much so that he’s almost relieved when it finally does.

Following an announcement that supper was ready, they’d migrated to a dining room that’s even more ornate than the den had been. They’d then proceeded to make their way through an exquisitely prepared roast duck, and are in the middle of dessert when Mihawk clears his throat.

“So.” He says, having removed the latest bite from his fork and then daintily patted down his lips with a napkin. “The annual charity ball that fundraises for the local children’s hospital is taking place three weeks from now. Zoro, can I assume for once that you’ll be in attendance?”

Zoro doesn’t bother swallowing his own mouthful of food. “Why the fuck would you assume that?” He asks around his fork. “I never go to that shit.”

Mihawk gives him a pained look, and Sanji can practically hear it when Perona rolls her eyes. “Historically, that’s true. However, given that Sanji will be coming, I had figured you would be with him.”

“You will be there, won’t you?” Mihawk asks, turning his head ever so slightly to look at Sanji. “I know your father’s already accepted an invitation, and it’s my understanding that he always brings all of his children to events like this one.”

Sanji meets his gaze without flinching. “You can call him a social climber if you like.” He says. “I promise it won’t bother me. Especially since you’re right.”

Mihawk’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he gives Sanji the faintest of possible smiles. “Touché.” He says, dipping his head in acknowledgement of Sanji’s point. “I really am beginning to like you, young man. Your attitude is … refreshing.”

Sanji laughs softly at this. “I can think of a number of people who’d say otherwise, but thanks, I guess.”

“Also, to answer your question,” he notes. “Yes, I’ll be there. This one’s been marked in my calendar for a while now.”

“Excellent.” Mihawk says, dipping his fork into his dessert again. “I, of course, confirmed my intention to attend shortly after the invitation arrived, and Perona is, I believe, available as well. So, Zoro, that just leaves you.”

Zoro stares at him blankly. “What part of ‘I never go to that shit’ are you having trouble understanding?” He asks. “I’ve got better things to do with my time than listen to a bunch of old dudes in suits talk about how much money they have.”

“Don’t we all?” Mihawk says, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he’s one of said old dudes in suits by default. “But since some of us can’t escape such obligations.” Here he pauses to tilt his head ever so slightly in Sanji’s direction. “I had thought that perhaps you would be coming along to keep your partner company.”

And say what you will about Zoro - he’s dense, but he’s not that dense. Sucking a deep breath in through his nose, he turns towards Sanji while letting it out slowly. “Curls?” He says, the word coming out just shy of a whine.

“Oh no, don’t look at me.” Sanji says, because while it might indeed be preferable to have backup around his relatives, in no way, shape, or form is he going to be held responsible for dragging Zoro to a black tie affair. “I’m neither asking nor telling you to go.”

Rather than look relieved by this declaration, Zoro deflates. “Fine,” he huffs, stabbing viciously at the plate in front of him. “I guess I’ll be there.”

“In proper attire.” Mihawk says, his voice mild yet somehow still full of warning. “No jeans, t-shirts, or items of clothing with the wrong number of holes in them.”

Zoro scoffs. “As if the cook would ever let me get away with that.” He says, nudging Sanji under the table. “He’d pitch a fit if I tried.”

Sanji nudges him back, and he isn’t gentle about it. “It’s not pitching a fit if the reaction is justified.” He says firmly. “And if you’re coming with me, I’m definitely going to have a say in what you’re wearing.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see this.” Perona says before Zoro has a chance to find his words again. “Just so you know, Sanji, stuffing him into a suit only works about half the time. The rest he winds up looking like someone tried to put pants on a gorilla.”

“Not to worry, my dear.” Sanji’s quick to assure her. “I’ll see to it that he looks perfectly respectable on the night in question.”

“My,” Mihawk says, blinking owlishly. “I do believe that will be a first.”

“Fuck off, every last one of you.” Zoro grumbles. “I can dress myself just fine.”

“Funny, in twenty plus years, I’ve never seen any evidence of this.”

“Oi!” Zoro exclaims, and Sanji can’t help but laugh as the table dissolves into the kind of friendly, familial bickering that he’s only ever experienced with Zeff. Leaning back in his seat, he lets the noise wash over him, content to relax while nature runs its course and Zoro holds his own against the two pronged attack that is his relatives.

Tonight could have gone much worse, he decides, and that means it’s going down as a win in his books.

Chapter Text

“So, Sanji, we heard you finally got to experience the wonder that is Mihawk the other night. How’d that go? Was he as creepy as usual, or was he on his best behavior and therefore didn’t look at you like he was trying to see inside your soul?”

Having parked himself on the floor so that he’d have easier access to the pizza boxes that they’ve all been pulling from, Usopp holds up his latest slice as he glances at Zoro and Sanji where they’re curled up together on the former’s couch. He raises both eyebrows to further emphasize his question, and then completely ruins the effect by stuffing half the pep and cheese monstrosity into his mouth.

“Gross.” Sanji says, kicking at the coffee table in the hopes that he can nudge it into the other man despite the distance between them. “Does no one in this group besides the ladies have any sense of decorum?”

Zoro snorts, an act that Sanji can feel thanks to the way the other man is sitting with him tucked up against his side, the position having become commonplace whenever any of the others were around to observe them.

“Not even the ladies,” and here he pauses to form a sarcastic set of air quotes, “have manners, Curls. You’re just too blind to see it.”

“Which is a state of being he can keep up for as long as he likes.” Nami says happily, while Vivi nods in confirmation beside her. “The fact that he thinks the sun shines out of our asses makes him even easier to bribe into doing things than the rest of you.”

“Technically you don’t so much bribe the rest of us as you do threaten with unspeakable horrors.” Usopp points out. “It’s a subtle, yet decidedly noticeable difference.”

“Shut up, Longnose.” Nami says without any heat. “But, honestly, Sanji, I’m kind of curious myself. What did you think of Mihawk? He’s a trip, isn’t he?”

“Mihawk’s going somewhere?” Luffy asks, sounding confused enough that Chopper, the last person present for tonight’s gathering, gives him a concerned look. “Where’s he going?”

“Nowhere, Luffy, it’s just an expression.” Nami says. “Now, Sanji, your thoughts on Zoro’s rich, weird goth dad. Spill.”

“He was … fine?” Sanji tries, looking at Zoro for help and getting a shrug in response. “We talked about normal stuff - work, the food, that kind of thing. I think he liked me well enough?”

“He did,” Zoro confirms. “And Perona thinks you’re cute.”

“Damn, really? You must have some kind of knack then, Sanji.” Usopp says, now licking pizza grease off his fingers. “I’ve known Perona for years, and she still looks at me like I’m a bug she found under her shoe.”

“I can’t imagine why.” Sanji says dryly, jerking his foot towards the spot on the coffee table where a stack of napkins is resting. “Truly, the mind boggles.”

Usopp gives him an affronted look, which, among other things, causes Zoro to snicker and rest his chin on top of Sanji’s head. “Ugh. You two really are made for each other.” Usopp grumbles. “Having you around to back each other up is the worst.”

“Tough.” Zoro says, his chin digging into Sanji’s scalp as he speaks. “Get used to it.”

Sanji laughs along with everyone else, but the sound has a hollow quality to it. It’s been weighing on him more and more as the days pass by that they’re quickly approaching the end of their fake relationship, and, truth be told, he thinks part of him is going to miss it.

And maybe Zoro’s feeling the same way. The others stick around until the rest of the pizza has been taken care of - leftovers aren’t really a thing in a friend group that includes Luffy - but clear out shortly thereafter. Despite this, however, Zoro makes no move to get up from the couch, or to release Sanji and allow him to do the same.

“You have sauce on your shirt.” Sanji mumbles, his current position giving him an excellent vantage point of the offending stain. “How did you manage that when I wasn’t looking?”

“I’m a man of many talents.” Zoro replies, and Sanji swears he can feel it when the other man grins. “Don’t worry, it’ll wash out.”

“Not with your laundry routine, it won’t.” Sanji sniffs. “No, I suspect that one’s there to stay, my mossy heathen.”

Zoro shrugs, but makes no move to adjust the arm he still has slung around Sanji’s shoulders. “I’ll survive.”

“I despair of you.” Sanji says, and then, after a beat. “Are you sure you don’t mind coming with me to the charity ball next week?”

Zoro sighs the sigh of the immediately exasperated. “We’ve had this conversation like eight times already.” He complains. “No, I don’t mind.”

“Judge is going to be there.” Sanji points out. “Him and all my siblings, most of whom I’m positive won’t be on their best behavior. They’re going to be painfully awkward and rude at best. In all likelihood, though, they’re probably going to be a lot worse. They’re going to move in on your family like sharks sensing blood in the water.”

“Yeah, well sometimes the bleeding animal is another bigger, nastier, and all around more dangerous shark.” Zoro says. “If Judge thinks Mihawk’s going to play nice with him because the two of us are … involved, he’s going to have another thing coming. Mihawk likes you. That doesn’t mean he’s going to play nice with the rest of them.”

“Not even for the sake of social niceties?” Sanji wants to know. “What if he plays nice because he thinks he has to be polite? The damage will be done at that point, and he’ll never get rid of Judge, no matter how hard he tries.”

The snort Zoro lets out echoes around the entire living room. “Mihawk’s never played nice a day in his life.” He says, snickering at an image that apparently only he can see. “He doesn’t believe in beating around the bush. If Judge tries that simpering, we’re-practically-family-now crap on him, he’ll put him in his place. Especially since you made it clear at dinner the other night that you two aren’t close.”

“Still,” Sanji says, chewing on his bottom lip in what’s no doubt an obvious sign of his brewing agitation. “That’s - I don’t want to cause trouble for your family, and Judge won’t stop now that he thinks he’s got an in. Not unless he gets slapped down hard enough.”

“Mihawk’s plenty capable of slapping hard enough.” Zoro says with confidence. “Hell, he’ll probably enjoy it.”

“I guess.” Sanji says, pulling his gaze away from Zoro’s face and dropping it onto his own lap instead.

He feels the other man shift next to him, and then, much more gently than he had earlier, Zoro rests his chin on top of his head. “What is it?” He asks, his voice softer now. “Talk to me, Curls. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Twisting his fingers back and forth together in his lap, Sanji lets out a quiet huff, but refuses to look up. “I know you’re saying he’d do it regardless, but I can’t help thinking that if Mihawk gets into it with Judge, it’ll be at least in part because he thinks he doesn’t have a choice since, as far as he knows anyway, you and I are a thing. And that makes me feel shitty. Like I’m tricking him into something.”

Zoro hums in acknowledgement of Sanji’s point, but doesn’t sound overly concerned. “I honestly doubt he’d care. He’s weird like that.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.” Sanji grumbles, but unfortunately Zoro doesn’t have anything more helpful to add.

*****
Equally unfortunate is the fact that there’s nothing Sanji can do to stop the upcoming gala. The days keep coming, and before he knows it he finds himself standing in front of his bathroom mirror, fussing with his tie to ensure that it’s sitting exactly right.

Ignoring the faint trembling in his fingers, Sanji gives the article of clothing one last tug, and then leans forward to rest his hands on either side of the sink. “You can do this.” He tells his reflection. “After all, you’ve been stuck going to dozens of events just like this one, and you’ve always survived. Plus, you’re going to have Zoro with you this time, which means no dealing with Judge and the idiot trio all on your own.”

Snorting, Sanji hangs his head after these words leave his mouth. He’s been trying to convince himself for days now that having Zoro along as an inadvertent buffer is a good thing, but if anything that fact is serving to make him more nervous. He’s fully expecting tonight to be a shitshow, and knowing the swordsman he’s going to be right in the thick of things.

Still, there’s no escaping now. Even if he were to try and claim sick or something of that nature, he can almost guarantee that Judge will send someone to his door to collect him. Whether he likes it or not, this is happening.

In an effort to keep his suit from being mussed, Sanji takes a cab downtown to where the gala is being held. He’s far from the only person who’s had this idea - not if the amount of finely dressed people exiting similar modes of transportation are anything to go by anyway - and he makes a face as he heads for the entrance.

It takes him the work of a moment to hand his ticket off to the doorman, and he’s lucky enough to be able to bypass the coat check thanks to how warm it is out. Having no other means of delaying the inevitable, he wanders down a large hallway that he assumes will lead him to the main event.

Stepping into the ballroom where the gala is being held makes him swallow heavily, but he has little time to stop and think about what he’s doing before a voice is calling his name. Turning, he’s surprised to find not one of the Vinsmokes, but rather Perona, who avidly waves him over.

Using her brightly coloured hair as a beacon, Sanji pushes through the growing number of people, doing his best not to step on anyone’s toes or dresses as he goes. Eventually he manages to make it through the crowd, at which point he realizes Perona hadn’t been alone when she’d called out to him.

Standing with a scowl set firmly in place that nevertheless does nothing to take away from how good he looks, Zoro’s planted right next to his sister’s elbow, with one of her hands gripping his sleeve in an obvious bid to keep him from running away. From a distance he looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, although his good eye does widen slightly when he catches sight of Sanji.

“Curls.” He says blankly, his gaze sweeping along the length of Sanji’s body in an obvious once over. “You look - wow.”

Next to him, Perona gives her brother an unimpressed look. “You’re drooling.” She says flatly. “Have some dignity, will you?”

Zoro sputters. “I’m not - oh, fuck you, Rona. You’re just jealous because the cook looks amazing, but you’re wearing a dress that looks like a goth cake threw up on it.”

Perona gives him a long look. “That,” she says firmly, “was far from your best comeback, dumbass. I’m honestly a little embarrassed for you. Having said that.” She adds, turning back to Sanji. “He’s not wrong. You do look great.”

“Thank you, my dear.” Sanji says, accenting the comment with a flourishing bow and a wink. “However, I will say that he did get one thing wrong, you look absolutely ravishing tonight.”

“Oi!” Zoro cuts in, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m standing right here, thanks, and last time I checked you’re supposed to be my date.”

“Yes, yes, you look very nice too.” Sanji says, patting him on the arm. In all honesty, though, that’s a complete understatement. Zoro looks fantastic in a form fitting tux that’s clearly tailor made for him, and Sanji suspects he’ll be catching the eye of more than one person before the night is out.

“Anyway,” he says next, wanting to derail that train of thought as quickly as possible. “Where’s Mihawk? Based on how he was talking the other night, I assumed he’d be here.”

“Oh, he is.” Person replies, making a disgruntled face that Zoro mirrors. “He’s off somewhere chatting with Shanks.”

“Shanks?” Sanji echoes. “As in Red Haired Shanks? As in the man behind one of the most successful craft beer companies on the planet? That Shanks?”

“Unfortunately,” Perona confirms. “He and Mihawk are … old friends.”

“They’re fucking.” Zoro supplies helpfully. “Probably, anyway. Mihawk likes being coy about that kind of shit, and Shanks has a warped enough sense of humor to play along. Honestly, the less you know, the better.”

“Which is why I’m going to do my very best to delete your last several sentences from my brain.” Sanji assures. “Honestly, Marimo, must you be so crass?”

Perona snorts, her lips curving up into an impish grin when Sanji glances at her. “Funny.” She says. “As I told Mihawk the last time I heard him ask Shanks that exact question, might I remind you that you picked him.”

“A scathing retort if ever there was one, my lady.” Sanji says, miming getting struck with a heavy blow. “You go right for the jugular, don’t you?”

Perona gives him a sweet smile that nevertheless contains a little too much teeth. “Swords might not be my weapon of choice, but in this family everyone knows how to use some kind of blade.”

Once again acknowledging a hit well landed, Sanji’s about to try and formulate a response, only to be cut off by the sound of a live band taking to a stand that’s been set up nearby. “Huh, it looks like we’re about to have some musical accompaniment.”

“It is technically a ball.” Perona reminds him, while next to her Zoro makes a grumbling sound. “And with a ball comes dancing. I assume you two will hit the floor eventually, hmm?”

“Who, us?” Blinking in surprise, Sanji gestures between himself and Zoro. “I’ll be honest, dearest. I happen to be grace personified when it comes to dancing, but it’s never even occurred to me to try and take your brother for a spin. Do you mean to tell me he doesn’t have two left feet?”

Zoro scowls at him, an expression that gets all the more ferocious when Perona laughs. “I can dance just fine, thanks.” He insists. “It’s a good way to help with footwork and balance for my training. The fact that I choose not to do it with a partner unless I’m serious about them is irrelevant.”

“Ah, I see.” Sanji says, swallowing heavily in the face of the piercing stare Zoro levels his way when he utters the word ‘partner’. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

No one says anything for a few moments until Perona lets out a heavy sigh. “It’s occurring to me that this is apparently how you two flirt, and I’ve got no desire to stand around as your unintentional third wheel. If you’d like to stay here and make bedroom eyes at each other all night, feel free. But I’m going to go mingle.”

“Mellorine,” Sanji starts, embarrassed.

“We weren’t,” Zoro tries at the same time, but it’s no use. Ignoring them with a pointed huff, Perona flicks her mass of bright pink curls over her shoulder and flounces off, quickly disappearing into the press of bodies that fill in the path she leaves in her wake.

“Sorry about her.” Zoro says, the bridge of his nose tinted red as he eyes up the empty spot where his sister had previously been standing. “She thinks she’s funny, and I’ve never been able to convince her otherwise.”

“It’s fine.” Sanji says, well aware that his own cheeks have heated too. “Believe me when I say that I’d take dealing with your family over mine any day of the week.”

Zoro straightens at this, his good eye narrowing as he scans the crowd for any signs of an apparent threat. “Are they here yet?” He asks, his voice picking up a dangerous edge that Sanji refuses to admit sends a pleasant shiver up his spine. “I don’t know what they look like, so you’ll have to point them out to me.”

“You’ll know them when you see them.” Sanji says, an admission that he’s always hated having to make. “My brothers and I are quadruplets, and, ridiculous dye jobs aside, it shows when you look at us.”

Still busy gazing out at the sea of people, Zoro scoffs. “No way are any of them as hot as you, I’d bet my other eye on it.”

“Marimo.” Sanji hisses at the same time Zoro’s expression twists in a manner that confirms he hadn’t meant to utter that sentence out loud. “You can’t just say things like that. People might get the wrong impression.”

Zoro lets out a flustered noise, but just as clearly decides he doesn’t feel like getting into an argument over his little slip up. “I’m hungry.” He says out of the blue, arguably one of the worst conversation stalls Sanji’s seen in a while. “Do you want to check out the buffet with me?”

“ … sure.” Sanji says, not seeing a better option immediately present itself. “But let me lead the way. If you do it we’ll probably wind up in the bathroom, or maybe outside altogether. I hear this building has a very nice terrace garden somewhere.”

“Let’s just go, Curls.” Zoro sighs. “At least if we have to stick around, we may as well do it with a full stomach.”

*****
They find the buffet table as hoped, and Sanji’s pleasantly surprised to see that the quality of the food is up to his standards. Meanwhile, Zoro’s pleasantly surprised to find ample amounts of meat.

“It’s a valid concern!” He complains after he’s finished loading up his plate under the weight of Sanji’s judgemental stare. “Half the time these stupid parties either have portions that are gone in a single bite, or nothing but salad. Sue me if I want something that’s actually going to fill me up.”

“You could have eaten beforehand if you were worried.” Sanji points out, but it does him no good. Thoroughly ignoring him, Zoro takes a hefty bite from his snack, not caring in the slightest when a middle aged man in a suit that’s about two sizes too big for him gives him a look.

“Tough crowd.” Zoro murmurs as they wander away from the table with their prizes in hand. “And you were wondering why I hate coming to shit like this.”

“I wasn’t wondering,” Sanji counters. “Not at all. I hate all this crap too. Although, in my case, that’s more because Judge always expects me to perform like a little dancing monkey to help him get what he wants.”

“Now there’s an image.” Zoro remarks, one eyebrow going up as he pictures something that only he can see. “Don’t worry, though. Tonight’s not going to be like that.”

“I beg your pardon?” Sanji asks, his voice sharpening in pitch as he turns to look at his companion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Zoro replies with a shrug and another bite of food. “Everything’s under control.”

Not liking the sound of that in the slightest, Sanji considers pressing him for more information, but thinks better of it when he spots the glint in the other man’s eye. Instead, he snags a glass of champagne from a passing server, figuring he may as well fortify himself with alcohol as his next best option.

“Oh hey, grab one of those for me too, would you?”

Huffing, Sanji does as requested, and they spend the next few minutes carefully balancing their plates and glasses so that they can eat without dropping anything. After that, only the champagne remains, and Sanji takes a heavy gulp when he spots another familiar face in the crowd.

“Don’t look now, but my unfortunate genetic connection is here and it looks like he’s spotted us. You can expect to start making awkward small talk any second now. And, oh good, he’s got his minions with him.”

Anything Zoro might be about to say gets lost in the Vinsmokes’ arrival, but Sanji twitches when a broad hand reaches out to curve over his hip, the swordsman having apparently decided to send a message right off the hop without consulting him.

If Judge finds anything amiss with the way they’re standing when he reaches them, he does an excellent job of keeping it to himself. Plastering his most ingratiating smile on his face, he beams down at Zoro, seemingly oblivious to the way the younger man doesn’t smile back.

“Well now, you must be the rogue who’s caught the attention of my boy, hmm?” He says, his words as pathetic and overeager as his expression. “It’s lovely to finally meet you, young man. I’m sure we’re going to get along swimmingly.”

Zoro shoots Sanji an alarmed look, one that very clearly asks the question ‘Is this fucking idiot, for real?’, and all Sanji can do is nod back at him. Well, that and wish that the floor would open up and swallow him, of course.

Clearly at a loss for how to proceed, Zoro glances back at Judge and shrugs helplessly. “Nice to meet you.” He grunts, both his tone and that he makes no move to free a hand to shake the one that Judge offers making it obvious that he doesn’t mean. “I’ve heard a lot about you, and your other kids too.”

Judge’s smile tightens imperceptibly, but in no way fully drops from his face. Sanji can all but see him writing Zoro’s rudeness off as being due to his lack of free hands, even has his own drops back down to his side.

“Speaking of his siblings,” he tries next. “Sanji mentioned that you haven’t met any of them yet, so it seems like proper introductions are in order.”

“It’s all good” Zoro replies, once again cutting him off at the pass. “Curls has already told me which one’s which, so I’m up to speed.”

That’s news to Sanji, who hasn’t done anything of the sort, but he can’t deny the way he’s enjoying watching Judge’s increasingly futile efforts to get Zoro to engage with him.

“Of course.” He says, still smiling widely. “I should have known that we’d be a frequent topic of conversation for Sanji. After all, that’s frankly inevitable when you’re dealing with a family as close knit as ours.”

Zoro says nothing to this, and Sanji’s honestly impressed with the way he keeps from baring his teeth at the Vinsmoke patriarch. Given the tension he can now feel coursing through Zoro’s arm, he’s going to suspect that not doing so is taking a great amount of willpower.

“Your own family is equally close, isn’t that right?” Judge asks, managing to go all of five minutes before he starts pushing for what he’s really after. “I’ve only had the pleasure of speaking to your father once or twice, but his fondness for you and your sister is readily apparent. Is he here yet?”

“Somewhere.” Zoro replies flatly. “I haven’t seen him in a bit.”

“Ah, I see. Well, I’ll have to make sure I find him before the night is out.” Judge announces. “After all, I imagine we’re going to be seeing a lot more of each other now that you and Sanji are stepping out together.”

Half expecting the older man to wink knowingly before he turns to leave, Sanji treads heavily on Zoro’s foot to keep him from responding. Sending that the swordsman’s patience has reached his breaking point, he breathes a sigh of relief when they’re left alone again.

“Fucking Christ.” Zoro scoffs, barely managing to keep it together until the Vinsmokes are out of earshot. “Is that really how he acts when he’s trying to get a way in with someone? No wonder Mihawk can’t stand him. He hates it when people are all fake to his face.”

“Then he has my sympathies for ever having to deal with Judge because he is literally like that all the time.” Sanji groans. “Or at least he is when he’s in public. Behind closed doors is another matter entirely.”

Zoro eyes him carefully following this statement. “Are you okay?” He asks, softer now, and the fingers of the hand he still hasn’t moved skate over Sanji’s side in what can only be defined as a soothing caress. “If you want to leave, we can.”

“That’s sweet, Mossy.” Sanji says, and he genuinely means it when he says it. “It’s too early for that, though, I’m afraid. Plus, we probably shouldn’t leave Judge unsupervised while Mihawk is here. I guarantee you he’s going to go looking for him before the night is out.”

“Sounds like we might want to beat him to the punch then.” Zoro suggests. “Mihawk tends to stay away from the worst of the noise at these things. He says he doesn’t like to have to shout to try and make himself be heard during a conversation. Means he’s probably as far from the band as he can get then.”

“That’s helpful.” Sanji agrees. “And you’re right. We should definitely try and head off whatever disaster is about to happen. You with me, Marimo?”

“For better or worse, Curls.”

*****
Exactly as anticipated, they find Mihawk as far off the beaten path as he can get, while still being in the room where the gala is being hosted. Having retired to a spot beneath one of the massive windows that line a side of the space, he’s in deep conversation with a lanky redhead who keeps gesturing wildly with the tumbler he’s holding in his sole remaining hand.

“Shanks?” Sanji guesses, unsurprised when Zoro nods. “Okay, and the others?” He asks, since there are three more men hovering around the pair, two thirds of them looking supremely irritated.

Zoro hums. “Various business partners and connections.” He explains, nodding at each man in turn. “That’s Jinbe on the far end, he’s pretty cool. Crocodile and Buggy, though, I could take or leave them pretty easily.”

That’s fair enough, Sanji supposes. He knows all those names, if not the faces they’re attached to, and is therefore equally aware that this is a group of men Judge would love to get his hooks into. Even Buggy, who’s known to be something of an upstart with a flare for the theatrical, has the kind of connections Judge craves.

“This isn’t good.” He murmurs, pitching his words so that they carry to Zoro’s ears only. “Judge is bound to make his way over here, and if you thought he was embarrassing when it was just you, you won’t believe how bad he’ll be with this lot.”

“I’ll take that bet.” Zoro replies nonsensically. “Come on. Let’s go say hi.”

Wishing he didn’t have to, but also knowing he doesn’t have much of a choice, Sanji allows himself to be tugged over to where Mihawk is holding court, unsurprised when their intended target looks up upon their approach.

“Ah, boys.” He says when he spots them, and somehow his tone is much less offensive than Judge’s had been. “I was wondering when I’d run into you two. Hello, Sanji. I hope Zoro is proving to be good company. Are you enjoying the event so far?”

“Hi.” Sanji says, wilting slightly when all four of the other men turn to look at him with varying levels of curiosity. “It’s nice to see you again, and yes. I’m having a good time.”

“He’s lying.” Zoro says flatly. “This whole thing is fucking stupid, and we’d both rather be anywhere else.”

“Marimo.” Sanji hisses, but any further reprimand is cut off when Shanks lets out a hearty guffaw.

“Damn, kid.” The redhead says, saluting Zoro with his drink. “If ever I needed a reminder of why you and Luffy get along so well, that was it. He’d have been just as blunt.”

“Only he’d most likely have done it around a mouthful of food.” Mihawk says tiredly. “Which is something I’m inclined to blame on your terrible influence, for the record.”

Shanks shrugs, completely indifferent. “Blame me if you like, but I can’t take all the credit. Have you met the kid’s grandfather?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Mihawk replies, his mouth flattening into a thin line. “A most … interesting individual.”

Mihawk utters the word ‘interesting’ the same way another person might say the words ‘raw sewage’. Figuring he’s better off not pushing, Sanji opts to hold off until he’s spoken to directly to say anything further, and he’s not left waiting long.

Scratching at the edge of his jaw with the fingers of a prosthetic hand that’s rumored to be made out of real gold, Crocodile lets out a low rumble. “With eyebrows like that, there’s only one person here you could belong to.” He says, eyeing Sanji up and down. “You’re one of Vinsmoke’s brats, aren’t you?”

“Oii,” Zoro starts, but he’s promptly beaten to the punch.

“Careful, Crocodile.” Mihawk says coolly, swirling the wine that’s left in his half full glass. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the old anecdote of not judging a book by its cover.”

“Perhaps I am,” Crocodile replies. “But I’ve also been around enough to know what happens if you give a blowhard sycophant any kind of an in. You’re playing with fire if you let this little fling continue, Hawkeyes.”

“Oh lighten up, you old bastard.” Shanks says, bumping Crocodile with his shoulder and either missing or ignoring the glare the other man shoots his way. “The sins of the father are not that of the son, and all that jazz.”

“That is - ” Mihawk pauses, looking somehow resigned and like he’s praying for patience at the same time. “Not even remotely how that saying goes.”

“Eh, it was close enough.” Shanks replies, gesturing expansively. “Either way, my point stands. Judge is annoying as fuck, but that doesn’t mean everyone else connected to him is. Put her there, kid. Red Haired Shanks, nice to meet you.”

Sanji stares blankly at the fully occupied hand Shanks offers him, taking care not to glance at the spot where the man’s other arm should be. “Uh, Sanji.” He says after a moment passes while Shanks beams at him expectantly. “Black.” He adds firmly. “And it’s nice to meet you too.”

“Black, huh?” Shanks asks. “Interesting, interesting. It looks like ol’ Croc here might have to eat his words after all. This is going to be fun, isn’t it?”

“Shanks, be quiet.” Mihawk says tiredly. “You’re embarrassing him. To the point that I may be forced to declare your brother my favorite in your family if you don’t stop.”

“Please don’t.” Buggy grumbles into his drink while Shanks makes a wounded noise. “I don’t need that kind of pressure in my life.”

Zoro groans. “I knew coming over here was a mistake.” He announces. “Can’t any of you ever be normal for once? Would it kill you to be a little more like Jinbe?”

Shifting at the sound of his name, the last remaining member of the quintet flashes a toothy grin. “Don’t drag me into this.” He says, sounding more amused than anything else. “I enjoy watching from the sidelines.”

“Because you’re a wiser man than the rest of us.” Mihawk says, sighing when Shanks continues pouting at him. “Honestly, Red. Have some dignity.”

“Urgh, foreplay.” Buggy mutters. “Can we not talk about something else?”

“We could talk about how Vinsmoke Judge has spotted us, and is now making his way over here like a torpedo on lock.” Crocodile suggests, nodding across the room when everyone else glances up. “I’m sure I can’t wait to see what nonsense he intends to spout tonight.”

As if on cue, Judge arrives with a wide grin and an outstretched hand. “Gentlemen,” he says loudly, offering said hand to each of the accumulated movers and shakers, stumbling briefly when faced with the obstacle that is Shanks. “Good evening to you all.”

Neither Buggy nor Crocodile dignify this with a response, but the other three exchange polite greetings, apparently willing to play nice for the time being. Unfortunately, this serves to spur Judge on, such that he settles in with the air of a man who intends to remain in the company in which he now finds himself.

Sanji watches as the older men engage in some mindless chatter, most of which pertains to some business exploits that he’s not familiar with. Preferring to maintain his position on the sidelines, he finds he doesn’t mind when Zoro slips and arm through his, enjoying the subtle way the act helps to ground him.

Of course, it’s an act that also doesn’t go unnoticed by the others, and Sanji feels mildly sick when Judge gives him an approving nod. He then watches as the larger man turns to Mihawk, giving him a conspiratorial nudge.

“What do you think of this then, Hawkeyes?” He asks, casually dropping the nickname despite having been given no indication he was welcome to use it. “I only found out about it myself a couple of weeks ago, but apparently they’ve been keeping it under wraps for months now.”

“Indeed.” Mihawk says noncommittally, eyeing a single drop of wine that Judge’s prodding had caused him to spill. “I imagine we learned about it around the same time, which I will say I find no harm in. They’re welcome to their privacy.”

“Of course,” Judge replies. “Naturally, naturally. And my Sanji is such a catch, you know. He never quite caught up to his brothers in size or stamina, but his brain is second to none.”

Only years of practice keep Sanji from snorting derisively at this, and he contents himself with squeezing Zoro’s hand instead. The swordsman is a steadying presence at his side, one that’s surprisingly relaxed given the way he’d reacted to Judge earlier.

“Indeed.” Mihawk says again. “On that much, I find I must agree. Sanji seems like a lovely young man. He attended supper at my home recently, along with Zoro and my daughter, and the four of us had an excellent time. He’s welcome back whenever he wishes.”

Sanji’s pretty sure he can see jackpot signs going off behind Judge’s eyes. “Excellent!” The older man booms. “I’m positively delighted to hear that he made such a good impression. We’ll have to get both families together soon then, and no doubt make a regular thing of it.”

“Really?” Mihawk blinks placidly, his expression never wavering. “I haven’t the faintest idea why.”

The way Judge freezes should be accompanied by a record scratching sound for comedic effect. For a moment, his jovial smile vanishes, only to come back twice as hard, as if he’s mentally deleting what he’s just heard.

“Why, to get to know each other better, of course.” He declares. “I know we’ve met in passing once or twice, but I hardly think that’s sufficient if our boys are going to be an item now, is it?”

“They’re grown adults, and perfectly capable of deciding what they are to each other without any input from us.” Mihawk replies. “Furthermore, I said that Sanji is more than welcome in my home. I don’t recall saying anything about you.”

Completely at odds with the developing tension, Shanks lets out a low whistle that sees Jinbe snort, Crocodile roll his eyes, and Buggy bury his face in one hand. Unlike the other three, the redhead seems to be having the time of his life.

Or other four, as it happens. Ignoring the antics of his cohorts, Mihawk keeps his gaze focused on Judge, evidently waiting for him to find his voice. When that doesn’t happen, he opts to speak again.

“As I said earlier, Sanji was excellent company during his visit to the manor. He was polite and thoughtful, but gave every indication that he’s not the type to back down from a challenge. He’s also very knowledgeable about current events, and overall seems like very pleasant company - something I’ve never been able to say about you or the rest of your brood. I can only assume he must take after his mother.”

“I beg your pardon,” Judge sputters, aghast. “Of all the unnecessarily insulting ways you could speak to me. Completely unprovoked at that!”

“Oh do shut up.” Mihawk says, draining the last of his wine glass. “We both know you’re over here because you thought a tenuous connection to my son would get you one with me. However, I am very much not interested, and will be all too happy to expand upon why at length if you continue to press the matter.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Judge sniffs, drawing himself up to his full height. Sanji recognizes what he looks like when he’s trying to keep his dignity intact, but also has no doubt that the man will be slinking out at the earliest opportunity so he can go lick his wounds in private. “I see no need to stay where I’m not welcome.”

“How fortuitous,” Mihawk drawls. “However, before you take your leave, there is one thing I’d like to make abundantly clear.”

“And what’s that?” Judge asks icily.

“I know more than you think I do, and that is a fact that could go very poorly for you indeed.” Mihawk replies flatly. “Zoro and Sanji are together for now, which may or may not last. If it doesn’t, that does not mean my fondness for your son will automatically expire. Therefore, you’d be wise to keep any thoughts of retribution, towards any party, to yourself.”

Judge’s nostrils flare, but it’s Sanji who gapes at Mihawk this time. If what the older man has just said means even remotely what he thinks it does, then this whirlwind of a conversation will have had a huge impact on his future happiness.

A warning squeeze from Zoro keeps him from opening his mouth to start demanding answers. Together, they and the rest of the assembled men watch as Judge whirls on his heel and stomps away, heedless of the other patrons he nearly tramples in his desire to flee.

“Well,” Mihawk says, tilting his head towards Zoro in the ensuing silence. “I believe I covered everything you wanted, yes?”

In answer, Zoro grins wolfishly back at him. “Yeah, that should just about do it. Thanks, old man. I owe you one.”

“Not at all.” Mihawk says, cracking a faint smile as he ignores the way Shanks is now prodding at his elbow, demanding to know what he’s missing. “In this instance, I was all too happy to be of service. Sanji.” He adds, dipping his chin to acknowledge him as well. “It really was a pleasure to see you again. Hopefully this won’t be the last time.”

“Huh?” Sanji tries, but he’s quickly distracted by Zoro tugging on his elbow.

“C’mon, Curls.” He says, tugging a little more forcefully when Sanji blinks at him in confusion. “We should probably keep our heads down while Judge clears out. Do you want to come check out the gardens with me for a bit?”

“A splendid idea.” Mihawk says, while Sanji continues to flounder. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, you two.”

*****
Following Zoro like a man in a daze, Sanji allows the swordsman to lead him around the ballroom until he comes to his senses enough to take charge of directing them. Under his guidance they soon find the large doors that lead out onto the terrace, and Sanji stomps through them, dragging Zoro along behind him.

Once outside, he drops Zoro’s arm like he’s been scalded, and begins frantically patting down his suit jacket until he finds what he’s looking for. The clink of his lighter sounds especially loud in the empty garden, as does the shaky exhale he releases after his first drag from his cigarette.

“Curls - ” Zoro starts, but Sanji holds up a hand to stop him.

“Not yet.” He says, blowing a cloud of smoke away from the man’s face. “This first.”

Showing half decent presence of mind, Zoro falls silent and doesn’t say anything further as Sanji works his way through his cigarette. He even stays quiet once he’s done, which allows Sanji to pierce him with a look that makes him squirm.

“How much does Mihawk know?” Sanji demands, having spent the past few minutes connecting some very important dots.

“Everything. Well, no. I take that back. Not everything.” Zoro corrects when Sanji pales. “He doesn’t know about the bruises, or how bad it was. All I told him was that you really needed to get out from under Judge’s thumb, and then I told him everything else about the plan.”

“Including the part where it blew up in our faces thanks to your parentage, I assume?” Sanji asks, unsurprised when Zoro nods. “What’d he say to that?”

“Mainly that I should have seen that part coming.” Zoro replies, shrugging. “He said it only stood to reason that Judge would use any connection possible to get what he wanted.”

“And then he effectively destroyed any chance of that ever happening.” Sanji says. Scanning around for a place to discard his cigarette butt, he spots a handy trashcan nearby, and then drops down onto the bench next to it. “Do you have any idea of what this means?”

“Sure.” Zoro says, coming to sit next to him. “It means you’re free.”

“Not just free.” Sanji corrects. “The way Mihawk put it to him - he won’t touch me after this. Whether you’re in the picture or not, I can go and live my own life without any repercussions from him or the others.”

“Yep.” Zoro agrees. “That was pretty much the whole point.”

Glancing upwards at the night sky, Sanji blows out a heavy breath, feeling overwhelmed. “You didn’t have to do this, and neither did Mihawk for that matter. Wasn’t he pissed when he found out I’d lied to him? If you think about it, I’ve basically been using you for months now.”

“Please,” Zoro scoffs. “Knock off your martyr act, would you? We both know it was my idea in the first place, and I told Mihawk that. He didn’t care. Actually, he said he respected your willingness to do what was necessary to remove yourself from a precarious situation. And yes, that’s pretty much a direct quote.”

“I figured.” Sanji laughs, letting his head fall back down. “Fuck. This is crazy. I can’t believe the whole thing worked.”

“Me either,” Zoro admits. “But, hey, from where I’m sitting, you should be happy. So, what are you going to do now?”

Taking a moment to consider this, as well as everything that’s happened over the past several weeks, Sanji lets out another laugh, this one slightly hysterical in nature when it dawns on him that there’s only one thing he actually wants to do. Standing abruptly, he looks down at Zoro and dares to hold out his hand.

“I’m going to head back inside.” He says, hoping like hell that he hadn’t read the situation wrong. “And, provided you’re up for it, I’d kind of like to dance.”

The silence that follows this statement is absolute, and he waits with bated breath as Zoro sits stock still on the bench. Finally, after what seems like a small eternity has passed, the other man meets his gaze.

“I’m not sure if you heard me earlier or not.” He says slowly. “But I only dance with someone if I’m serious about them.”

“Right.” Sanji rasps, feeling suddenly the smallest he’s ever felt as he lets his hand start dropping back to his side. “Of course. That was stupid of me. Sorry, I shouldn’t have - ”

Milliseconds before his hand falls completely, Zoro reaches out to snag it. Entangling his calloused fingers with Sanji’s own, he pulls their joined limbs towards him, leaning down to press a kiss to Sanji’s knuckles, all without breaking eye contact.

“Guess it’s a good thing that I’m stupidly serious about you then, huh?” He says, his warm breath ghosting over Sanji’s skin.

“Oh my god, you fucking asshole!” Leaning forward to smack the snickering idiot over the back of the head with his free hand, Sanji’d be lying if he said the rest of him wasn’t inwardly jumping for joy. “I can’t believe you did that!”

“Yes, you can.” Zoro says, maintaining his hold on Sanji’s hand even as he climbs to his feet. “You absolutely can.”

“Yeah,” Sanji admits breathlessly, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of fondness he feels when Zoro grabs his other hand as well. “I guess I can.”

“You’re good at predicting me.” Zoro notes, and all of a sudden he seems much closer than he was before. “Good enough that I bet you can figure out what I plan to do next.”

“You know,” Sanji breathes, leaning in as well. “I kind of think I can.”

*****

Epilogue

“No no no. Not there! You can’t put my standing mixer there, it doesn’t have enough room!”

At the sound of Sanji’s irritated shout, Zoro releases the mixer in question. He then holds up his hands and takes a few careful steps back for added measure. “You said you wanted it on this side of the kitchen!”

“Of the kitchen, yes.” Sanji confirms, despairing of the man as he sweeps in to rectify the situation. “Of this end of the counter, no. I won’t have the arm room I need if I leave it down here, so shoo and let me take care of this.”

“Fine,” Zoro huffs. “But this is the third area I’ve tried to help you with, and the third time you’ve shot me down because I wasn’t doing it right. There’s not going to be a forth one, and you don’t get to complain later on and say that I made you unpack all by yourself.”

“As if I’d ever do that.” Sanji sniffs, giving his mixer a gentle pat before turning to face his somewhat disgruntled looking significant other. “Oh, come here, dummy. There’s no need to pout.”

“I’m not pouting.” Zoro insists, lying through his teeth. He also tries to wriggle away when Sanji grabs for him, but the blond is nevertheless successful in his attempts to pin him against the counter by the sink.

“Poor grumpy Moss.” Sanji coos, resting a hand on either of Zoro’s hips. “Are you mad because I’m paying more attention to getting settled in than I am to you?”

“No.” Zoro grunts, again like the lying liar he is. “I just don’t want to have to deal with you bitching at me later on for not helping.”

Snickering, Sanji leans up and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “If you didn’t want to deal with my bitching, then you wouldn’t have asked me to move in with you, and we both know it. I am what I am, darling, and there’s going to be no changing me.”

“Never said I wanted to change you.” Zoro grumbles, allowing another kiss in a sure sign that he’s being mollified. “Only that I don’t want to get yelled at when I don’t deserve it.”

“That’s fair.” Sanji decides, giving him a reassuring pat on the chest. “Lucky for us both, we know it’s only a matter of time before you do something that does deserve having me yell. I can wait until then.”

“Fucker, that’s not what I meant. Get back here!” Growling, Zoro catches a laughing Sanji by the arm before he can fully pull away, and hauls him back against his chest. “You’re such an asshole.”

“True,” Sanji agrees. “But we both know you love it.” He adds, dropping the ‘L word’ with only the practiced ease that over a years worth of dating for real could provide. “Funny how that works.”

“I’ll show you funny.” Zoro starts, and Sanji allows the kiss he gives him, but puts his foot down on taking things any further.

“I still have a ton of work to do to get this place under control.” He insists, waving a hand to encompass the mass of boxes that are strewn all over (formerly) Zoro’s apartment. “So far only the bathroom and bedroom are done, and you were absolutely no help with either of those.”

“Not because I didn’t try!” Zoro barks. “Oi, stop laughing!”

“No.” Sanji says, and then makes a liar out of himself by kissing the other man instead.