Chapter Text
I'm Coiled up like the venomous serpent, Tangled in your trance and I'm certain,
You have got your hooks in me - Rain, Sleep Token
Sanji, nineteen, working as a junior chef at The Baratie.
“What are you doing back here, eggplant?” Zeff sighs as he enters the kitchen to start the dinner shift.
“What does a chef do in a kitchen, I wonder?” Sanji snarks back, already washing his hands.
“You are not working brunch, lunch, and dinner tonight,” Zeff counters.
“I don't think you have a choice, old man. Carne called off,” he dries his hands.
“We managed before you, we'll manage without you now,” Zeff pulls his pen from his breast pocket and looks over the papers attached to his clipboard.
“Zeff—”
“Get the hell out of my kitchen. I'm not going to have some kid fuck up the basics because he's too tired,” he makes a long mark on the paper.
“I'm fine!”
“When was the last time you had a night off, huh?” He checks his clip board, flipping the papers on it, “You worked open to close the last two days and you haven't had a day off in a week,” he glares at Sanji, “Did you think I wasn't going to notice? I don't want to see you for twenty four hours,” he taps the papers, “Minimum.”
“But—”
“Go! Get drunk or whatever kids do these days!”
Sanji groans and storms out the kitchen, plucking a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it the second he hits the back alley. He stomps up the back stairs, up to the front door of his apartment where he flings it open and slams it shut like a pissy teenager. The fire escape window sticks when he throws it open, old paint gunking up in the heat. With it open, he falls into the folding chair he keeps next to the window; Zeff hates when the place smells like smoke.
The nicotine floods his system, softening his nerves and ironing out his anger into a manageable simmer as he takes deep breaths filtered through tobacco smoke. He shucks his uniform shirt off and chucks it across the room to his bed.
Zeff’s probably right. He's working too much. But, how is he supposed to get better without experience? He's only been allowed in the kitchen for a year, he has so much to learn and so much missed time to make up.
He puts out his cigarette butt and rubs his eyes. Well, if he wasn't going to be in the kitchen, he might as well get laid. Or at least talk up some pretty girls. With that decision, he gets himself dressed up and sneaks out the back so Zeff doesn't know he took his advice.
The bar he ends up at is fairly busy for a Tuesday night. He orders an old fashioned because he thinks it'll make him look sophisticated. It kind of works, but mostly no one notices. He sits and sips, taking in the atmosphere and scouting.
“Can I get three shots of your cheapest vodka and a vodka cran,” comes a lovely voice from beside him. He turns his head to find the woman matches her voice. Red hair and a face like a pixie. Mini skirt, and tits he could drown in.
“Hello beautiful,” he opens with his signature charm.
She giggles, taking him in and leaning on the bar, “Can I help you?” She asks, voice sweet. He can see the swirl of a tattoo on her shoulder.
“I was just wondering if your name was as pretty as you are,” he asks, sliding in just a touch.
The bartender sets her three shots and vodka cran out on the bar and she grabs the cocktail. She drinks from the straw as she bats her eyelashes at him, her mouth opening to speak.
“Nami, this fancy weirdo bothering you?” comes a gruff voice barging into their conversation. A man with green hair cuts in-between them, taking one of the shots and throwing it back. He eyes him, sizing him up, and Sanji’s anger starts to bubble as his eyes watch the bobbing of his throat.
“No, Zoro,” she grabs him by the back of the head and yanks him down so she can say something in his ear. Sanji does his best to keep his face cool as the man, Zoro, nods his head in understanding. She releases him, smiling back at Sanji in that perfect way girls do that has his heart soaring.
Zoro gathers the two shots, stares at him and then blurts out, “She's using you for free drinks, dude.”
“Zoro!” Nami smacks him in the arm and Sanji's smile twitches.
“I'm more than happy to buy a pretty girl drinks just so she can have a good time,” his calm is forced as he sets his glass down before he shatters it in his hand.
“What are you? One of those freaks that gets off on women using them?” Zoro scoffs.
“And what are you? You're not her boyfriend, that's for sure,” he shoots back
Zoro’s playfully incredulous, “No, thank God,” he looks to Nami with a smirk, “Can you imagine?”
“What's your problem with her?” Sanji takes a step closer. His ego is bruised and he doesn't like the way this idiot talks to Nami.
“My problem with her is my problem,” he grunts out with a shrug, “I'm just trying to help you out.”
“Hey! Zoro— Big guy!” a second interloper appears, hand on Zoro's shoulder and blocking his view of Nami. He turns to Sanji, a practiced ease to him, “I'm sorry, about my friend here. Zoro's got the tact of a gorilla,” he laughs, nerves splitting through just a touch.
Zoro rolls his eyes, “I'm drinking your shot,” he announces as he walks away.
The new guy shoots the gorilla a glare and turns back to him with a forced relaxed air, “I'm Usopp, how about we go back to our table and we'll buy you a drink?”
His eyes go back to Nami sipping her drink and watching through doe eyes, “Yeah, I'd appreciate it.”
“Awesome,” Usopp ushers him towards their table, “What's your name, friend?”
“Sanji,” he plucks his old fashioned from the bar and follows the man to one of the booths at the back of the building.
Zoro sits at the booth with two empty shot glasses, and a dark haired guy who looks a little younger than them. The guy is pushed up against Zoro, face flushed and whining when they walk up.
“Luffy,” Usopp addresses the guy, “This is Sanji. Zoro tried to fight him so we're going to buy him a drink.”
“Zorooo,” the kid is clearly sloshed as he pouts at the brick wall of a man, “You can't do that, Zorooo!”
Zoro ignores him and looks to Nami, “See, I told you he didn't need another shot,” he ruffles Luffy's hair, causing him to wobble in his seat.
Nami rolls her eyes, “Scoot,” she waves at him and Zoro pushes Luffy farther into the booth so that Nami can sit next to him, “If I didn't get him one, he’d find a way to get it himself.”
Usopp climbs into the seat across from them and pats the space next to him for Sanji to sit. He does, setting his drink on the table and suddenly feeling a little lost. This friend group is well established and what right does he have to interject? He's not sure how to pick up a conversation in this situation.
“So, Sanji?” Nami's voice makes his doubt disappear, even if she won't sleep with him, he's content with her smile and attention on him.
“Yes, darling?” He asks, kicking up the charm. It falters with a twitch when Zoro snorts.
“What do you do?” She asks, leaning over the table and putting her cleavage on display. Sanji, respectfully, keeps his eyes on hers, even as the back of his nose starts to tingle as he thinks of how soft they look. If he plays it cool, he wont get a nosebleed and embarrass himself this time.
“I’m a chef at one of the most highly rated restaurants on Dawn Island,” he smirks, knowing how his profession tends to impress.
“Fancy cook mannn,” Luffy groans, reaching over the table at him, “Make me foooood!”
Sanji moves his hand so the drunk can't touch him.
“Ugggh...” He cries out, trying harder to reach him. Zoro pulls him back by his shirt collar. Luffy pouts, wrapping his arm around Zoro's and rubbing his face into his bicep. Zoro shakes his head, glaring at Nami who he seems to blame for their friend's inebriation.
She ignores the meat-head, “Are you in culinary school?” She directs to him.
Sanji sips his drink to try and maintain his calm facade, “I didn't need to. I've been training under my head chef since I was a kid,” he brags.
“Oh, that's kinda like Zoro,” Usopp lights up. Sanji frowns at the comparison, catching the way Zoro's lip curls. Seems mosshead didn't appreciate it either.
“Yeah!” Nami adds, “Zoro's been at his dojo since he was a kid, too.”
“Martial Artist?” He acknowledges, and then more towards Nami, “I’m a mixed martial artist myself.”
“Oh yeah?” Zoro’s face cracks into a dangerous and sharp grin that has Sanji hesitating, “So we could actually fight?” he leans over the table, Luffy at his side slumping with him, “What do you do?”
Sanji's teeth click together as he grinds them into a smile, “Capoeira, Muay Thai, and general kick-boxing. I like to keep my hands reserved for cooking,” he shoots a look Nami's way, “And for the ladies.”
Zoro snorts a laugh again and Sanji is getting real tired of his attempts at flirting being undermined.
“What do you do, moss for brains,” he glares back.
“Swords,” Zoro grunts out, “I'm a swords master trained in East Blue one, two, and three sword style with some carry-over from Wano Standard style.”
Sanji blinks, “Three? Where does the third sword go?”
Zoro smirks, “Wanna find out?”
Despite himself, Sanji’s face prickles with heat.
“Ew, Zoro!” Usopp laughs.
“It goes in his mouth,” Luffy says, half asleep against Zoro.
“What?” Sanji's struck dumb, unwelcomed thoughts floating into his mind.
“He holds the sword in his mouth,” Nami clarifies, but not really.
“How does that even work?”
“Guess you're just going to have to find out,” Zoro's tongue slides over his teeth and Sanji feels hunted.
Nami smacks the muscle-head, “You're so gross when you flirt,” she teases.
“Shut the fuck up, witch,” he grounds out, “I don't flirt with shitty womanizers.”
Sanji's frozen in his seat. What a strange night he’s having.
“Zorooo” Luffy whines, restarting his head rubbing, “I want burgersss!”
Zoro sighs, hand coming up to smooth Luffy's hair down. They might be dating? Sanji isn't sure, but Luffy definitely seems to be the one Zoro's kindest to.
“If we ignore his stomach any longer, he’s going to start eating the table,” Zoro mutters.
“Ugh, you're probably right,” Nami complains, sucking down the last of the red from her glass, “I'll go close out, did you still want a drink, Mr. Chef?” She asks, her fingers brushing his elbow. His heart swells at the nickname.
“No, I'll be turning in after this, thank you, darling,” he swirls what's left of water down whiskey and ice in his glass. She giggles and heads to the bar.
“Well, when Usopp makes a promise, he’s going to keep it,” Usopp puffs up next to him, “Can we buy you a drink some other time?”
Sanji considers whether he actually wants to see these people again. Part of him wants to; he's never had friends under the age of thirty-five, not that the kitchen staff really count as friends. More like a collection of strange uncles, than anything else. He thinks it’ll be worth a shot, even if Zoro pisses him off.
“Alright, I’m not against it,” he agrees, choosing not to look at Zoro.
“Awesome! When are you available? Restaurants tend to have hectic schedules, don't they?” Usopp asks, pulling out his phone, “Do you use S-Chat?”
Sanji asks Zeff for Saturday off and he swears the man almost cries. It's annoying, the old man taking such an interest in his new social life, but it means he willingly gives him a day off without any fuss so he can't really complain.
They're meeting at a park in Foosha City. The Strawhats, that's the name of the group chat he was added to, like to spend a lot of time in the area so it looks like Sanji's driving outside the walls for the first time in months.
He's borrowing Zeff's car and when he gets in, the chat pings as Usopp asks for his coffee order. Sanji requests black coffee and sets his phone's GPS to Windmill Park.
It doesn't take long for him to get out of the capital, passing through the reclaimed fields of Gray Terminal and the short burst of forest before he's in Foosha City. As he comes over the hill, he can see the large arms of the windmill stretching up into the sky. He parks, collects the cooler of food he's prepared and texts the group that he's there. Usopp directs him to a large field directly in the shadow of the massive windmill and as he approaches, he finds they've laid out a blanket and Luffy is smacking Zoro with a stick.
Luffy catches sight of him approaching and Zoro uses the distraction to yank the stick out of Luffy's hand, breaking it over his knee.
“Fancy Chef Man!” Luffy yells and jogs over to him.
“Sanji,” he corrects, but he's impressed Luffy even remembers him considering how drunk the guy was.
“Sanji!” Luffy repeats with the same enthusiasm, “Is that food?” He asks, walking backwards in time with Sanji and eyeing his cooler.
“It is,” Sanji confirms as they reach the rest of the group. Luffy makes a move to grab the cooler, but Zoro's faster. He yanks Luffy to his side with an arm around his waist.
“Don't be rude,” he chastises a pouting Luffy.
“Rich, coming from you,” the quip is automatic, out faster than Sanji has control of.
The sound Zoro makes is mean spirited, “I won't stop him next time.”
“What did you bring?” Nami's sweet voice prevents any more snark. Damn mosshead distracted him so much he didn't see the lady sitting on the blanket. She's so cute in a little yellow sundress that pool around her thighs as she sits. Sanji risks a glance at at her chest, notices there's no way she could be wearing a bra, and decides that if he doesn't wanna ruin the food with a nosebleed, he needs to control himself.
He sets the cooler on the blanket and kneels down next to her and Usopp, “First, let me tell you that I appreciate being invited out this lovely afternoon.”
“No problem, man,” Usopp says, picking up a coffee cup from a carrier and handing it to him, “Debt repaid!” He smiles and then narrows his eyes to Zoro who's taking a seat next to Nami. Zoro holds his hands up in surrender as Luffy squishes himself between him and Nami.
Sanji opens the cooler with one hand while holding his coffee with the other, “I made spicy sea king salad sandwiches, there's some cucumber sandwiches if anyone doesn't eat fish, cut fruit, and some petite fours from the restaurant that I helped make yesterday,” he explains, proud of himself as he pulls out the containers. Nami and Usopp help set everything out and distribute paper plates. And then his favorite part, he gets to sit back and watch people enjoy his cooking.
Luffy eats like a starved man, shoving sandwich after sandwich into his mouth with a single minded greed. “This is the best thing I've ever had!” he says between bites.
“I didn't know cucumber sandwiches could actually be tasty!” Usopp’s eyebrows shoot up, "They've always just been watery."
Nami hums around a bite of sandwich, swaying with her eyes closed, “Sanji, this is delicious!” Her praise warms his chest.
This truly is the best part of being a chef. Seeing his work appreciated by his new friends is a high like no other. Better than the first hit of his post shift smoke.
“I prefer onigiri over sandwiches,” Zoro's voice is like ice, freezing his high and shattering it, spreading the pieces over the grass.
“You're lucky you even got one, moss for brains,” Sanji shoots back.
“The fuck's your problem? I was just stating a preference,” he shoves the rest of his sandwich in his mouth, tongue darting out to collect spicy mayo off his lip.
“You know what? You want a fight? You got a fight,” Sanji stands, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling them up.
“Hell yeah,” Zoro stands, that sharp grin on his face from the bar, “I'm going to kick your prissy ass!”
“Go Zoro!” Luffy calls.
“Hundred berri on the cook,” he hears Nami's hushed voice through the rush of blood in his ears.
“Damn it,” Usopp complains, “Fine, hundred on Zoro.”
They get distance from the picnic, Zoro cracking his neck and stretching his shoulders as they circle each other. Sanji can see the muscle flexing under his shirt, fully appreciating how big Zoro's chest is, how it fills out his shirt. Zoro's strong, he can see that in the man's body, but Sanji’s banking on the swordsman being weaker without his swords.
Sanji makes the first move, spinning a kick that Zoro catches, big hands easily encircling his ankle. Zoro yanks him forward, trying to get him off balance, but Sanji uses the momentum to help him jump. He sends his body in an arch, wrenching his ankle free. He lands low, kicking up in a half split and landing a hit square in Zoro's chest.
Zoro grunts, hopping back to stabilize, “Flexible fucker, aren't you,” he sneers and Sanji smiles back, righting himself as the successful hit fuels his ego.
“Not that strong without your swords, huh, mosshead?” Sanji feigns nonchalance even as his vision narrows with excitement. He watches Zoro for his next move.
It comes in the form of a leading left and a hooked right that forces Sanji to duck back to avoid. Zoro feints his next left to the face, Sanji doesn't flinch, but he does dodge and that costs him reaction time. Zoro's right hook hits him right in the jaw.
He tastes blood in his mouth, split lip most likely, but he can't dwell on it. Zoro's already continuing his combination, left fist coming in quick. He feels crowded, pinned in, as Zoro stays in close and Sanji knows it's to prevent his kicks.
Which means, Zoro's not expecting it when Sanji blocks with his forearm. Combo broken, Sanji springs up, using Zoro's arm as leverage he flips over him. He lands with his back to Zoro's and with enough space to kick his feet out from under him with a backwards sweep. Zoro barely avoids eating dirt by catching himself in a low plank.
“Oh no!” A voice cuts through the little world Sanji had been living in for the last few minutes, “Sir! Sir, you're bleeding, Sir!”
Sanji swings his head around, searching for the source and ends up landing on a kid in a pink hat running towards them. He's tall, but the baby fat on his face clearly screams fourteen.
“Don't worry, Sir!” He says as he reaches them, “I'm a Sea Scout and trained in first aid!” His eyes land on Sanji's bleeding mouth, “D— Don't worry!”
Zoro pulls himself to a sitting position in the grass as the kid starts digging through his back pack.
“Hey, I'm okay, kid! I promise!” Sanji turns on his award winning smile which only seems to make the kid more worried and redoubles his efforts.
“Please sit down, Sir!” He insists, “The effects of a concussion are immediate, and—” the kid continues to ramble as Sanji slowly sinks to the ground next to Zoro.
Zoro eyes him with a frown, “I don't think you're concussed,” he observes.
“I'm not,” Sanji agrees.
“You did lose, though,” Zoro's smug face flares his irritation.
Sanji launches himself at Zoro, struggling against him with his hands gripping the other’s forearms, “Your ass was down! I was about to pin you, you shitty piece of grass!”
Zoro pushes into him, “If you could! You're a little bitch bleeder!” His laughter is near maniacal and Sanji thinks the guy might be enjoying this shit a bit too much.
“Oh, no!” The kid cries out again, “Please stop!”
“You're stressing the poor kid out,” comes Nami's voice from behind them. Sanji immediately drops his hands to his lap, causing Zoro to momentarily lose balance. It takes everything for him not to snicker at his fumble.
“I'm so sorry Nami dear—”
“Dang, he got you good,” Usopp whistles. Sanji sucks his teeth and considers lowering Usopp's ranking among his favorites. Nami's at the top, of course. Even if she betted against him.
“Please, just let me stop the bleeding,” the kid's voice cracks.
“Alright, fine,” Sanji sighs and holds still.
The kid has put on a pair of gloves and opens a sterile wad of cotton. He presses it to Sanji's bleeding lip, gentle and attentive.
“Thanks for helping Sanji, kid,” Luffy’s voice is full of mirth as he squats down and observes the kid working.
“I'm not a kid and my name's Chopper,” he frowns, eyes not moving from Sanji's face, “Well, everyone calls me Chopper.”
“Chopper’s a really cool name for a doctor!” Luffy gushes, “Are you a doctor?”
“No!” Chopper’s face turns red, he rotates the cotton against Sanji's lip, “I'm just in highschool,” he pulls back, watching the cut to see if the blood has clotted. He seems satisfied and sticks the bloody cotton back into its paper wrapping, “I do want to be a doctor, but that's not for a while.”
Sanji goes to thank the kid, but Chopper shushes him, “Don't talk for at least thirty minutes so that the wound can close,” he grabs the alcohol wipe he sat aside and rips it open, “I'm going to clean up the blood on your face, okay?”
Sanji nods and Chopper starts wiping his chin and the area around his mouth, gentle hands mindful of the split. Once he's done, he holds the wipe and cotton in one hand and pulls the glove off so it's encased in the inside out glove. He does the same for the other glove and puts the entire wad in a plastic bag.
“Pew,” he relaxes as he pours copious amounts of hand sanitizer on his hands, wrists, and arms, “You should go home and change your shirt, blood born illnesses are no joke!”
Sanji taps Luffy's leg and mimes eating while pointing to Chopper.
Luffy giggles, “You should eat lunch with us!”
Chopper stiffens, “No, I couldn't!”
“That's a great idea!” Usopp agrees, “Sanji made us all lunch. At least eat the cake things he brought as a thank you.”
Petite fours Sanji corrects internally.
“I doubt the cook can keep his mouth shut, anyway,” Zoro teases; Sanji glares, “You're going to have to fix him again, anyway.”
“Well, if you insist,” Chopper accepts, waving them off and hiding his embarrassed face.