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After the events of Arlong Park, Sanji finds himself in the strange vacuum of insecurity and self-doubt. It was easy to leave the Baratie, easy to follow Luffy wherever he wanted to go, easy to chase the pipe dream when it wasn’t actually real.
Now, though, after six weeks at sea with the Straw Hats, Sanji can’t help but feel out of his depth. He’s never had friends before. His first crew didn’t count. Zeff, as amazing as the old bastard was, wasn’t his friend. He wasn’t friends with any of his coworkers. Before the Straw Hats, Sanji just kind of drifted. He got used to drifting, to being alone, to sharp tongues and sharp kicks.
The Going Merry is unlike anywhere Sanji’s ever been, and the Straw Hats are unlike any people Sanji has ever known. For the first time in a long time, Sanji’s scared, only this time, he doesn’t quite understand what he’s scared of.
He’s taking a smoke break on the main deck, peripherally keeping an eye on Zoro, who’s napping on the main deck near the bow. When he sees Luffy, he steels himself for noise, or chaos, or excitement, or any of the other high-energy things he’s come to associate with his captain, but it never comes. There’s a quiet conversation between Luffy and Zoro, and Sanji watches with a tight throat and a hollow stomach as Luffy tucks himself under Zoro’s arm, ear pressed right over his heart, and Zoro adjusts easily, like holding someone that close and that openly is as simple as breathing.
Sanji has another cigarette to get rid of the hollow pit in his stomach and very studiously does not watch Zoro and Luffy sleep. He does not ache, does not yearn. He stamps out his third cigarette and returns to the galley.
-
The next time they dock, Nami and Zoro head off somewhere together, and Sanji ignores the persistent emptiness in his stomach when Nami takes Zoro’s hand. He hears her tease him for his poor sense of direction, and he hears Zoro remind her that he doesn’t need to know where he is, as long as he’s got her. Nami laughs brightly as they walk down the dock towards the village, and Sanji flicks his lighter.
He’s lost in thought, lost in guilt, lost in something, and he doesn’t notice Luffy coming up beside him. The small, warm hand on his back makes him jump, and Luffy pulls away, grinning. Sanji finds himself smiling back, despite everything, and he remembers why he was so quick to follow Luffy into the great unknown.
“Would you like company, Sanji?”
And it’s strange, because there’s no reason for Luffy to join him, no reason for Luffy to want to hang around with Sanji, but he does anyway. And that’s what messes Sanji up the most.
Sanji accepts before he can think harder about it, and Luffy’s exuberant grin softens to something a little sweeter, a little more private. He turns and calls to Usopp, making sure their sniper is okay with being by himself for the afternoon, and Usopp shouts something back about writing to Kaya.
Luffy nods, satisfied, and holds out his hand for Sanji to take. For an embarrassingly long moment, Sanji just stares at Luffy’s hand. Luffy would be okay with it if Sanji said he didn’t want to hold hands. Sanji knows that. But he also won’t move on without an answer either way. He’s firm on that, on communicating your needs, even if it means setting uncomfortable boundaries.
And, again, before he can think too much about it, Sanji takes Luffy’s hand. They set off, and, as they walk, Sanji readjusts his grip so it’s more comfortable, threading his fingers with Luffy’s. Their joined hands swing between them; their shoulders brush as they step in time.
Sanji becomes hyper-aware of Luffy, of how the top of his head just reaches Sanji’s chin, of how well their hands fit together, his strong fingers and strong palm, of the lilt of his voice and the way he raises on his toes and leans in close to make sure Sanji can hear him. Every brush of their skin, even through Sanji’s jacket and shirt, burns, but Sanji can’t make himself pull away.
They manage to find the market in town, and since they’ll be staying for a few nights, Sanji elects to get some fresh ingredients before stocking up on preserved ones.
He finds the first stall he wants, one that’s selling tomatoes and peppers, and only realizes he’ll have to let go of Luffy’s hand as they step up. The merchant smiles at them, only a little wary, and Luffy grins back before turning to Sanji.
“Teach me.” Is all he says, and Sanji blinks.
Okay. Sure. “I’m gonna need this back then,” he says, a little mournfully, and tugs on Luffy’s hand.
Luffy untangles their fingers, then immediately loops his arm through Sanji’s, not giving either of them any time to think about it. Sanji can feel Luffy’s breathing, feel his heartbeat, and his own face goes pink. He looks away from the merchant woman, who’s suppressing a smile as she turns away. He takes a deep breath and focuses on the food in front of him.
The tomatoes are bright and colorful, mostly ripe, with only a few that are aggressively under-ripe or over-ripe. He picks out one of each of the levels of ripeness and hands them to Luffy, letting him feel the difference between them. Luffy listens, rapt with attention, as Sanji explains the different colors and what they’d be good for. He seems particularly keen on trying fried tomatoes, so Sanji makes sure to grab a few of the more firm green tomatoes. He also takes a handful of heirlooms, red and full and just-soft, and hands them to Luffy, who places them in the large basket strapped to his back.
Luffy hands the coins to the merchant, and she winks at him as she hands back their change, wishing them well on their journeys. Sanji feels warm and full for the first time since joining the Straw Hats. He leads Luffy around the market, telling him everything he wants to know and stocking up on whatever they can afford, recipe ideas coming to him like a breeze as Luffy tells him what he has and hasn’t tried, what he likes and doesn’t like, things Nami’s mentioned she’s been craving.
The basket is nearly full, and their allotted budget for the day is dwindling, so Luffy takes Sanji’s hand and leads him back out of the market, through the town and towards the Going Merry. They greet Usopp, who smiles a little too knowingly at them for Sanji’s tastes, and Nami, who rises to follow them to the galley.
“We really don’t need any help, gorgeous,” Sanji says, as gently as he can, but Nami hip-checks him and smiles, something teasing and sweet.
She smiles a lot more than she did when he first met her, and Sanji can’t help but think that he does too. He watches Luffy climb onto the counter to stack something in a high cabinet and grins fondly at the sight. Nami helps him place their perishables into the ice box, some for now, and some for later, and she leans into him as she does. He can’t help but lean back, her weight solid and firm against him.
Many hands make light work, and Sanji finds that he has time between stocking and prep that he normally wouldn’t have. Luffy whispers something to Nami, and she smiles a soft, private smile for him.
“Sure,” she says, and Luffy kisses the corner of her mouth. “I’ll see you later, Sanji.”
Sanji’s red as a beet, he’s sure, and he can only wordlessly wave as she leaves the galley. Luffy turns back to him and giggles a bit, air whistling through his teeth, as he beckons Sanji to sit with him. Sanji does, and Luffy immediately kicks his feet into Sanji’s lap. Without letting himself think about it, Sanji wraps a hand around Luffy’s ankle.
Luffy stares at him, observing and searching and scarily open. Sanji looks back, tries not to let the emptiness take root again, tries not to think about this being it, about Luffy deciding that he’s not good enough to cook for them, to provide for them.
“Are you happy here, Sanji?” Luffy says, his voice quiet and curious, as casual as discussing the weather.
Sanji thinks; he actually takes the time to think about his answer, because Luffy doesn’t inquire if he doesn’t want a legitimate answer. So, Sanji thinks.
“I am happy,” he says, carefully. It’s the truth, but there’s more. There’s the loneliness, the ache in his skin and the pit in his stomach. He’s happy, but he doesn’t fit in.
Luffy squints, nose scrunching up. He swipes at his face with the back of a hand. Sanji waits, runs his thumb over Luffy’s ankle bone to distract himself, to settle himself.
“Is there something more that you need?” Luffy asks. “You watch, but you don’t join in.”
Sanji inhales sharply. Something he needs? His thumb stills on Luffy’s ankle. Something he wants. Needs. Same thing, different things. What constitutes a need? He’s gone this long without friends. Without closeness. Is it a need?
“Because,” Luffy brings his hand to rest palm-up on the table between them, an invitation. “If you do, all you have to do is ask, yeah?”
“Luffy –”
“You’re my friend, Sanji.”
Sanji closes his eyes.
“You’re my nakama. My chef. My friend.” Luffy’s voice is soft and melodic.
Tears burn behind his eyelids.
“Sanji,” he draws the end out, a smile evident in his voice. “Would you look at me? I gotta get this through your thick skull.”
Sanji laughs. He opens his eyes, and tears slip down his face. “You’re one to talk about thick skulls.”
Luffy giggles. His hand stays open between them. Sanji takes a deep breath, and puts his hand in Luffy’s. A shiver runs down Sanji’s spine when Luffy closes his fingers around Sanji’s hand, rubs his thumb along Sanji’s knuckles; careful, tender, soft. Luffy’s soft, and Sanji melts a little.
“You fed me.” Luffy says, holding eye contact with Sanji, looking straight into his brain and his heart and his soul.
A little desperately, Sanji kisses Luffy. It’s not great, neither of them were really ready for it, and Sanji’s face is wet from tears, and their teeth click together when Luffy laughs. Sanji pulls away just far enough to hide his face in Luffy’s shoulder, suddenly very embarrassed.
“I’m sorry.” He says, voice muffled by the fabric of Luffy’s shirt.
Luffy wraps his arms around Sanji’s shoulders and squeezes. Sanji in turn wraps his arms around Luffy’s waist and holds tighter than he’s ever held anyone else. Luffy combs his fingers through Sanji’s hair, presses kisses along the crown of Sanji’s head, and sways them gently. It’s calming and soothing, and Sanji feels settled and warm and full.
Eventually, he lifts his head, and Luffy rewards him by cupping his face and kissing him. Sanji sinks into it, fingers digging into Luffy’s waist, and closes his eyes. Luffy hums a bit, thumbs running under Sanji’s eyes, before he pulls back and kisses Sanji’s cheek, his eyelids, the bridge of his nose. The tips of their noses touch, and Sanji finally opens his eyes. Luffy’s looking back at him, long lashes framing his impossibly big and warm eyes.
“Okay?” He asks.
“Yeah,” Sanji says, then, a little breathlessly: “Do you do that with all your crew, or am I just special?”
Luffy laughs. “Usopp doesn’t like to kiss. We share a bed sometimes, though.”
Sanji’s eyebrows raise involuntarily.
“Stop.”
“Sorry, bruv, the phrasing, though –”
“I heard it as soon as it left my mouth! I don’t like that, though, so don’t ask for it.”
“Heard and understood.” Sanji pauses. “Nami and Zoro, though?”
“We all kiss each other.” Luffy touches the tips of their noses together. “Very regularly.”
“Are you…” He searches for the right words. “Going… steady?”
Luffy laughs at him, loudly and right in his face. Which Sanji supposes is something he should either be used to by now, or get used to fast.
“We’re nakama.” Luffy says through his laughter, which really isn’t an answer to the question.
Except, it is, isn’t it? It’s a very Luffy answer, so it makes sense in a very Luffy way.
“If you want to kiss them, be my guest,” Luffy plays with the hair at the base of Sanji’s skull, his other hand running a thumb along Sanji’s neck. “They’re good at it. I recommend.”
Huh. Okay. “What about you?”
Luffy looks puzzled.
“Was this like… a one and done deal?”
Luffy shakes his head. “All you gotta do is ask, Sanji. I told you that, and I meant it. Even if you just want a hug or to share a bed. I love all that stuff.”
Luffy winks, goofy and silly and at-ease in a way Sanji’s deeply envious of, and Sanji laughs, chest light and stomach full.
“Can we do that? This?” The words leave his mouth before he can think about them.
“We’re free.” Luffy says, easy as, and leans in to kiss him again.