Savage Swirling Seas

by Hazel_Athena

Summary:

Zoro could have sworn this was the way back to the dockyard.

Notes:

All I’m going to say about this fic is that getting anywhere with it was like pulling teeth from start to finish. I’m still not overly satisfied with it but it’s done so by god it’s getting posted.

Fair warning, when I tagged for miscommunication, I mean there’s *boatloads* of it. Prepare to suspend your disbelief, lol.

Zoro could have sworn this was the way back to the dockyard. Scratching his head absentmindedly, he glances around the surrounding shoreline, before unceremoniously sliding the net containing his latest catch down off his shoulder and letting it fall to the ground for the time being.

Still scratching his head, he lets his good eye roam over the rocky terrain, surprised when no man made structures appear in his field of vision.

“Maybe there was some kind of accident?” He says aloud, but dismisses this thought almost immediately. He’d have been bound to notice a sudden squall that was big enough to take out not only the dockyards, but also the boats that were tied there and the people manning them.

Groaning, he lets his arm fall to his side and heaves out a tired breath. This is all Luffy’s fault, he decides. He’d received a letter from his friend - the man off on another one of his seemingly constant adventures - just this morning, and he’s still annoyed by the contents.

Or rather, perhaps annoyed is too strong a word. After all, Luffy hadn’t expressly told him to take in the guest he was sending Zoro’s way, but he had asked, which was equally as serious when it came to their friendship.

“And just where exactly am I supposed to put this person?” Zoro now asks, speaking to an invisible version of his friend. “It’s not like I’m exactly flush with space. You’d have been better off asking Usopp, or maybe the witch.”

Except things in Usopp’s living quarters had a noted tendency to explode, and Nami would no doubt charge Luffy’s mystery person an exorbitant amount of rent in exchange for staying with her. Under the circumstances, Zoro probably was the best option. Never mind the fact that he’s always been something of a loner and doesn’t exactly enjoy having strangers in his space.

However, it was Luffy asking, and Zoro’s long since given up on trying to say no to the man. Kicking at a nearby pile of rocks in consternation, he blinks when some of said rocks topple over and reveal a dusty grey patch of fur underneath.

Intrigued, he steps forward for a closer look. He kicks more rocks aside, which in turn give way to a larger and larger swath of fur, until finally he’s unearthed what appears to be an entire seal pelt.

Whistling at the sight, Zoro picks it up off the ground so he can get a better look. The fur is deceptively soft to the touch, and he finds himself absently stroking his fingers through it as he examines his prize.

“Some poor bastard is kicking himself for losing you.” He says, twisting the pelt this way and that. It’s already been tanned and preserved, such that it’d serve perfectly well as a blanket if someone didn’t want to turn it into a coat of some other form of clothing, and he can easily imagine making use of it on cold winter’s nights.

Another glance around the area reveals no potential owners in sight, so Zoro shrugs and tosses the thing over his shoulder. He knows there’s a good chance he’s committing a small act of thievery at the moment, but as far as he’s concerned that’s on whatever idiot was so careless with such a pristine piece in the first place.

With the pelt safely secured, he next picks up his fishing nets, pleased to see that no damage has happened to his catch during its time on the ground. He then chooses a direction at random and begins marching along the shore, figuring that if he sticks with that he’ll inevitably find the docks again.

*****
There’s the barest hint of sunlight drifting in through his lone bedroom window when Zoro’s jerked awake out of a sound sleep by a pounding on his front door. Sitting up fast enough that he’s surprised he doesn’t strain something, he rubs tiredly at his good eye, wondering who the hell would have the nerve to wake him this early.

For a brief moment the pounding stops, and Zoro starts to hope that whoever it is has wandered off. Then it starts up again, even harder this time, and he rolls out of bed with a groan.

Never at his best when he’s been unexpectedly woken up, he shuffles out of his bedroom and into the space that makes up the main living area of his tiny cottage. Narrowly bypassing the table and chairs, he makes for the door and yanks it open.

“What?” He starts irritably, only to freeze when he comes face to face with the most beautiful man he’s ever laid eyes on. “Uhhh?”

A single, icy blue eye he can see - the other one is covered by a fall of golden blond hair - narrows imperceptibly. “That’s the best you can do?” The man snaps, and the fact that they’re of almost equal height means that Zoro recoils slightly when he leans forward. “I don’t even get a hello?”

“ … hi?” Zoro tries weakly, unsure of what else he’s supposed to say.

Based on the way the man’s mouth curls into a resounding sneer he’s going to guess it’s not enough. On the other hand, he’s been awake for all of ten seconds and there’s an almost literal work of art standing on his doorstep. He feels like he could be forgiven for not being at his best.

“ … going to let me in?”

It takes Zoro a moment to realize that the man has kept talking despite his befuddled state, and he blinks as he belatedly processes the last few words. “You want to come in?” He asks dumbly. “To my house?”

“‘Want’ is putting too fine a point on things.” The man replies tersely. “And,” he adds while letting his eyes flick up and down disdainfully over the front entrance, “possibly the same thing can be said for the word house.”

This time when the words finally register, Zoro feels his own strains of annoyance start to stir. “Look pal,” he starts, leaning forward until his forehead is almost pressed against the interloper’s. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but I sure as shit didn’t invite you to show up at the ass crack of dawn and start insulting my home for no reason.”

Rather than pull back, the blond meets Zoro head on. “I beg to differ,” he retorts with a snarl. “If you honestly expect me to stay in this hovel then the state it’s in is absolutely my business.”

“Stay - ? Oh!” Realization hits Zoro like a ton of bricks and it dawns on him that this must be the friend Luffy’d asked him to put up for a bit. “Oh, it’s you. In my defense, I figured it was going to take you longer to get here. Why didn’t you just say who you were in the first place?”

The man’s eyebrows go up, and Zoro blinks when he notices the strange curl they have to them. “You mean aside from the fact that it should have been obvious?” He asks snidely. “Who else would deign to grace your lovely shack with their presence?”

“Preferably someone with less of a mouth on them,” Zoro retorts before he can stop himself. “Are you always this much of an asshole to your hosts?”

“If that’s how you’re going to describe yourself then you’re even more delusional about how this works than I thought.” The man replies. “Now, come on.” He adds, flapping a hand irritably. “Move your giant carcass out of the way and let me see what I’m working with here.”

Wondering both where the hell Luffy had found this guy and why in the world he thought Zoro was the best person to put a roof over his head, the green haired man nevertheless does as he’s told. Stepping back out of the way, he gestures the man into the cottage was a sweep of his hand that’s only a little sarcastic.

Continuing to look unimpressed, his guest steps gingerly across the threshold, his mouth turning down in distaste as he takes in the state of the room. “You live like this?” He says, sounding utterly appalled.

Affronted, Zoro takes in the space with a critical eye. It’s no palace, he can admit that much, but it suits his needs fine. “I do.” He says firmly. “And if you’ve got a problem with it, you’re welcome to find somewhere else to stay.”

“Very funny.” The man mutters. “Although I guess jokes like that are the kind of thing I should expect from a man like you.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Zoro starts to demand, but he falls silent when the man waves his hand.

“Never mind.” He says, now sounding more resigned than anything else. “I knew it was going to be bad, but I may as well make the best of things. First things first. Do you own a broom? Perhaps a mop even? If I’m going to be stuck here, I refuse to do it in squalor.”

“My house is fine,” Zoro insists. “What the hell makes you think you can just waltz in here and start changing things?”

“So you’re not even going to grant me that much?” The man replies, his eyes going flinty. “You’re going to make me wallow in filth just like you?”

“Would you - oh my god.” Having no idea what else to do, Zoro points at the cupboard where his meager cleaning supplies are held. “If it’s that important to you then fine. Feel free to clean to your little heart’s content, but don’t expect me to help you.”

“Fine.” His companion retorts. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by that either.”

“I’m going back to bed,” Zoro says abruptly, wanting to put an end to this conversation. “Yell if you need anything, but otherwise leave me alone until I’ve had a bit more sleep.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” The man asks when Zoro begins to turn away. “You haven’t even bothered to tell me your name.” He adds as Zoro pauses. “Surely a proper introduction is in order.”

Wondering why Luffy hadn’t told him, and then just as easily dismissing that question - Luffy’s always worked in mysterious ways - Zoro shrugs. “Roronoa Zoro. At your service.”

“Sanji.” The man replies when Zoro pointedly raises an eyebrow in return. “Just Sanji.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Zoro says, hoping he’s not about to make a liar out of himself.

*****
Despite the bizarre circumstances that had woken him in the first place, Zoro has no trouble falling back to sleep again. There’s considerably more light filtering in through the window the next time he wakes, indicating that at least a few hours have passed, and this time he sits up much more slowly.

Stretching his arms out above his head, he twists until there’s a resounding crack from the vicinity of his neck, and lets out a happy groan. Then he swings his legs out over the side of the bed and climbs to his feet.

His wardrobe has never been particularly sizeable, but he nevertheless stumbles over to his small closet to dig out a fresh shirt and pair of trousers. While he’s doing so, his eye briefly catches on the pelt from yesterday, which is now resting on a hook behind the rest of his clothes.

Stroking a hand absently over the soft fur, he wonders if perhaps he shouldn’t find a better place to keep it where it won’t risk being wrinkled or otherwise damaged. Figuring he can deal with that later, however, he sorts out what he’s after and dresses quickly.

Shockingly, the sight of the living area isn’t the first thing that registers with him. Instead, the moment he opens his bedroom door, he’s greeted by a number of mouthwatering smells that send him careening over to the space that contains his stove and foodstuffs.

“There’s fresh coffee in the kettle.” Sanji says without bothering to look up from what he’s doing. “And even a handful of clean mugs to drink it out of if you’re feeling so inclined.”

Still not looking at Zoro, the man nods towards the spot where the sink and pump based faucet stand. Practically every dish in the cottage appears to be clustered around the two, all of them gleaming in a way they never have before.

And the same again can be said for the entire space that makes up his combined living and dining area. The floors have been swept and mopped, what little furniture there is has been dusted, and Zoro would put solid money on the windows having been washed.

“You didn’t have to do all this.” He hears himself mutter, wondering belatedly if Sanji had felt he owed Zoro something in exchange for the free room and board. “If I minded putting you up, I wouldn’t have agreed to it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Sanji replies, his long fingers flexing as he scrapes eggs out of Zoro’s only frying pan. Of note, it appears to be much closer to the color he remembers it being when he’d first bought it. “Now grab the coffee and come sit down.”

Seeing nothing else to do, Zoro follows these instructions and goes to retrieve the kettle. Assuming that Sanji will want some as well, he also grabs two mugs instead of one, and sets them down in front of the table’s only chairs.

He thinks he sees Sanji’s eyebrows rise slightly as he pours an equal measure of coffee into each mug, and they definitely do when Zoro asks him if he’d like anything else in his.

“Just milk.” He says after a moment of silence that seems longer than necessary. Zoro, however, simply nods, and goes to fetch that from his cold storage.

“Your food supplies were … passable.” Sanji says once he’s back at the table. “But there’s only so much that even I could do under the circumstances. “You’re going to need to go shopping if you want me to do better.”

“You got any money on you then?” Zoro asks. “Actually,” he says, wrinkling his nose as something else occurs to him, “do you have anything on you period? Where’re your bags?”

For some reason this makes Sanji stare at him like he’s an idiot. “It’s not exactly like I had a lot of time to pack.” He says, turning snappish again the way he had been at the start of the morning. “You’re lucky I was able to scrape up enough clothes to get here fully covered. What you see is what you get, I’m afraid.”

Momentarily distracted by visions of Sanji arriving sans clothing, it takes Zoro a bit for the meaning behind his words to sink in. “Wait, you have nothing else with you?” He demands, glancing up and down the length of the other man’s body. “You don’t even have a coat.”

“You’re lucky I have shoes,” Sanji retorts. “Or maybe you’d prefer me without those too. I really don’t know.”

Zoro gapes at him. Sanji is quickly shaping up to be one of the strangest people he’s ever met, and considering the other people Luffy’s introduced him to over the years, that’s saying something. Never mind his prickly personality, the man is just weird.

On the other hand, he’s apparently more down on his luck than his attitude would suggest, which may have played a role in Luffy sending him out here. Under the circumstances, it looks like he needs a hand and Zoro’s going to be the one to provide it.

“My hauls have been pretty good of late.” He hears himself say. “So I’ve got a little extra coin put aside. We can go down to the market after we eat and see if we can find anything you might like.”

Sanji stares at him in obvious surprise. “You want me to choose what I get?” He asks, sounding some mixture of skeptical, confused, and possibly … hopeful? Zoro’s not sure about that last one, but there’s definitely a third emotion he can’t quite place.

Either way, however, none of Sanji’s reactions make sense to him. “Why the hell wouldn’t I?” He asks. “I’m no good with fashion, but you seem like the type to care about that sort of thing. Plus, it’s not going to do us any good if I bring back stuff that’s the wrong size. It makes way more sense for you to try things on before buying them.”

“Right,” Sanji says, his expression clearing. “It’s a matter of convenience. Of course.”

“That’s one way of looking at it, I guess.” Zoro says, still not entirely sure where this conversation is going. “Plus, if you’re looking for anything specific where food is concerned, I won’t have a clue what to get.”

Sanji nearly drops the pan he’s in the process of carrying to the table. “You mean we can actually do that too?” He demands, barely recovering in time to keep the eggs he’s cooked from spilling onto the floor.

“ … yes?” Zoro replies, completely clueless as to where this reaction is coming from. “Why? Did you think the clothes shopping was going to take too long? I mean, we can always go back another day if we have to. It’s not like the marketplace is going anywhere.”

“You make no sense.” Sanji tells him, and then begins aggressively scraping eggs onto the plate in front of Zoro.

“I think the same can be said for you.” Zoro replies, or at least that’s what he means to say. Instead, he finds himself letting out an appreciative groan as the full force of the meal Sanji’s prepared reaches his nose.

“That smells amazing.” He says more effusively than he normally does. “Are you some kind of cook or something?”

Sanji’s grip on the pan handle tightens enough that his knuckles turn white. “So what if I am?” He wants to know, a sense of defiance evident in his voice, posture, and expression. “Are you going to tell me I can’t keep at it? It’s of benefit to you too, you know. Surely coming home and getting a freshly cooked meal after a long day’s work will suit you.”

For whatever reason, all of Zoro’s instincts are screaming at him that he’s currently treading on dangerous grounds. Part of him wants to press to see what will happen, but the rest of him valiantly maintains that he has to get along with this guy if they’re going to live together. As such, he takes the easy way out.

“Having you cook sounds fine to me.” He says. “Thanks.”

Sanji eyes him with blatant suspicion, but doesn’t add anything further.

*****
Zoro tends to avoid the local market as much as he can. Thanks to his ability to save as much of his catches as he wants for his own use, he largely gets by on that and whatever he needs to substitute every now and again. Plus, he can usually cajole Nami into picking up most other staple goods for him in exchange for her taking a percentage of his earnings.

Some may consider that to be a waste, but Zoro will take it if it means some extra peace and quiet. He’s not opposed to crowds and the like at times, but he prefers to be able to leave once he’s had his fill of them.

All this to say that he has only a vague idea of where to find the goods that Sanji’s after. Even worse, the man has turned up with exactly as much money as he has personal possessions, which is to say none at all.

Sanji stares at him with that strange mix of defiance and trepidation when he announces this, but Zoro simply waves him off. “I already said I’d pay for it.” He notes when Sanji keeps eyeing him warily. “You’re turning out to be a bit more work than I was expecting, but it’s for Luffy so I’ll make do.”

He thinks Sanji’s about to say something to this, except they’ve finally reached the first of the market stalls, and the sudden burst of noise from the crowd serves to be a suitable distraction. The blond turns to look at the people milling about instead, his shoulders tensing. “Where do we start?”

Zoro considers this. “We’ll do the clothes first.” He says after a moment’s thought. “That way we’ll have to spend less time carrying the food around with us.”

“Alright.” Sanji replies with a small nod. “Lead the way.”

Having only the vaguest idea of where the clothing section of the market is located, Zoro picks a direction at random and hopes it’s the right one. It turns out that it isn’t, but they do get there in the end which he feels should count for something.

Based on the amount of complaining he does, Sanji seems to disagree. On the other hand, Zoro’s starting to think that annoyed is the man’s general state of being, so he decides not to read too much into it.

Much like he’d feared, Sanji turns out to have expensive taste in clothes. The market in this small coastal town isn’t exactly what one might call ‘high end’, but the blond nevertheless manages to suss out all of the nicest items, all while fawning effusively over the women manning the shops at that.

A crowd of giggling and cooing ladies has gathered around him as he tries things on, many of them with helpful suggestions to add. Sanji takes their behavior in stride, grinning, winking, and flirting back at them - to the point that Zoro’s starting to worry about straining his own eye from all the rolling it’s doing.

In the end though Sanji comes away with a few new shirts and trousers, along with a coat that’s been treated to be waterproof. He balks a little when the vendor mentions that it’s sealskin, but still takes it with a resigned look on his face.

“That’s that then.” Zoro says, pushing away from the wall he’s been leaning against with a relieved sigh. “At the rate you were going, I was starting to think you’d have us here all day and maybe even part of the evening.”

“I’m so sorry to have put you out.” Sanji sniffs irritably. “If only I’d had even the slightest bit of warning that I was going to have to come out here, I might have had a bit more time to pack.”

Wincing at yet another reminder that Sanji’s obviously running from something, Zoro quickly backs down from the fight. “Fine.” He says instead. “Do you still want to shop for food while we’re at it?”

Sanji brightens considerably at this idea and wastes no time in dumping his assorted packages into Zoro’s arms. “Here. I’m going to need my hands free for this, so make yourself useful and carry these while I figure out what we need to buy.”

“You mean what do I need.” Zoro grunts. “It’s me who’s going to pay for it all.”

“Yes, but it’s me who’s going to cook it.” Sanji retorts. “Unless you want to pretend that breakfast wasn’t one of the best meals of your life?”

Since breakfast honestly had been amazing, Zoro gives him a grudging shrug.

“I figured as much.” Sanji says, looking smug. “And I managed that with your abysmally bare kitchen. Imagine what I can do when I actually have a variety of agreements.”

Willing to admit that that does sound nice, Zoro nods a little more enthusiastically this time. “Alright,” he says aloud. “We’ll call it a deal. You can cook in exchange for free room and board. That’s fair, isn’t it?”

Unexpectedly, Sanji’s face darkens. “If that’s how you want to justify it to yourself.” He says stiffly, and then turns on one heel to march back into the crowd.

It’s a bit of a struggle to keep up with him thanks to the packages he’s carrying, but Zoro manages it. Even better, Sanji’s mood brightens considerably as he sorts through stall after stall of produce. To the point that he’s almost chipper when they finally finish up.

“I’m honestly impressed with the selection.” He’s saying as they make their way through the crowd towards the exit. “There’s a lot I could do with just this, and some of the vendors mentioned having other crops they can bring in if I give them enough notice. You might have a half decently stocked pantry by the time I’m done with things.”

“I can’t wait,” Zoro drawls. Although, inwardly he is kind of excited. Sanji’s been yammering on about all the dishes he could make while they’ve shopped, and a few of them sound downright mouthwatering. “What are you thinking of cooking for supper?”

“Oh, I’ve got a few ideas.” Sanji replies breezily. “How about - ?”

He never gets to finish his thought because shortly thereafter a familiar voice starts calling Zoro’s name. Turning at the sound, he’s surprised to find Usopp standing near the exit of the marketplace, eagerly waving a hand.

“Well look who’s out in public for once!” The long nosed man crows as they draw nearer. “If I wasn’t seeing it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe it. Who’s your friend, Zoro? And is he responsible for you being out in polite society on this fine day?”

“It’s a market.” Zoro stresses, rolling his eye. He’s long given up on countering his friends’ claims that he’s something of a shut in. “Hardly what I’d call society. Also, this is Sanji. He’s the one I’ve been expecting for a bit now. You know, the one Luffy said to keep an eye out for.”

“Right right,” Usopp says, stepping forward to offer the blond man his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Sanji. How’re you settling in so far?”

“Apparently my house is filthy and doesn’t have nearly enough food.” Zoro snorts before Sanji has a chance to say anything. “Truth be told, he’s a bit whiny.”

“Excuse me?” Sanji demands, turning away from Usopp to glare at Zoro. He looks like he’s contemplating tossing one of the bags at Zoro’s head. “You really are the most obnoxious man I’ve ever met. And believe me when I say I’ve met a few.”

“ … sooo, things are going well then?” Usopp says, letting out a nervous giggle in the ensuing silence.

“Things are peachy.” Sanji mutters through gritted teeth. “Can’t you tell?”

“It’s fine.” Zoro adds with a dismissive wave of his hand. “The cook just needs some time to get used to me.”

“Cook?” Usopp echoes, and a knowing look crosses his face. “Ahh, that explains a lot. Oh well, try not to kill each other for the time being, I guess, and I’m sure things will sort themselves out in the end.”

“No doubt.” Sanji says, his voice desert dry. “On that note, we should be going. Some of the food in these bags will go bad if left outdoors for too long, and I can’t imagine you’ll appreciate having wasted all that coin for nothing.”

“Not as such.” Zoro admits, and nods at Usopp. “I guess we’ll see you later then.”

“Absolutely,” Usopp agrees. “Especially once word gets out that your company has finally arrived. You two should swing by Nami’s later so that Sanji can meet everyone.”

“Not tonight.” Zoro says before anyone can press him. “But maybe sometime later this week.”

“Suit yourself.” Usopp replies with an unconcerned shrug. “I wouldn’t wait too long, though. You know as well as I do that Nami will happily drag you out by the ear if she feels like it.”

Zoro makes a face, but doesn’t protest.

*****
They make it back to the cottage without any other fuss, and Sanji heads straight for the kitchen area to begin sorting things out to his satisfaction. Meanwhile, Zoro is dispatched to the bedroom to reorganize things in a way that’ll make space for the blond’s new wardrobe.

Wondering how he’s so thoroughly lost control of his life in the span of less than a day, Zoro nevertheless doesn’t protest. Instead, he trudges into the room with Sanji’s bags in hand, setting them down on the bed so that they’re out of the way when he opens up the closet.

Having always been the kind of person to get by with minimal fuss, Zoro’s never had much in the way of personal belongings. This means that the closet isn’t actually that full, although he does still find a few areas in which he can free up space.

A couple of especially tattered shirts get taken down to be disposed of, and the same again goes for the pair of boots he’s been meaning to throw out due to their state of advanced disrepair. A couple of other items get hung up properly so that they’re not cluttering up the floor, and finally Zoro reaches for the pelt from the other day.

The fur is just as soft as it had been the first time he’d touched it, and he strokes his fingers through it as he removes the whole thing from its hook. He’d been thinking just this morning of finding a better place to store it, and the fact that the pelt is large enough to be quite bulky - thereby taking up excess space - only serves to seal the deal.

Luckily, he has just the spot for it. Draping the pelt carefully over one arm, he sidles over to the trunk that rests at the foot of his bed. It’s one of the few other furnishings in his room and stands out both because of this and because of the fact that it’s locked.

Fishing the key out from the chain around his neck, he quickly gets the thing open and can’t manage to keep a smile from forming as he’s met with the sight of Wado’s hilt. Her sisters are resting safely on either side of her, looking as perfect as they had the day he’d stopped carrying them on his hip.

For the briefest of moments he considers pulling the swords free and practicing with them for a bit, but he quickly forces that thought from his mind. Now isn’t the time, and aside from routinely checking to see that they’re being properly maintained while they wait for him, he and his swords are staying where they are for now.

Furthermore, said swords are getting a bit more company. Folding the pelt into a neat square, Zoro sets it down on top of the box that contains his sword cleaning materials, pleased to see that it’s a perfect fit. Nodding to himself he then shuts the lid and resecures the lock, satisfied that this arrangement will do for now.

The room now as good as he can make it, he briefly considers hanging up Sanji’s clothes for him, but then thinks better of it. The other man strikes him as the type to want to make such arrangements on his own, figuring that no one else could do it to his satisfaction.

With that in mind, Zoro wanders back out into the main room, and is unsurprised to find that Sanji has torn apart his entire kitchen. The blond appears to be in the process of rearranging where everything goes, to the point that Zoro suspects the odds are about even he’ll get stabbed if he tries to stop him.

“Not hardly,” Sanji grunts, thereby alerting Zoro to the fact that he’s said all this out loud. “My hands are for cooking only, not for gutting green haired idiots who can’t recognize a better system when they see it. If I need to put you in your place, I’ll do it by kicking your fool head in.”

“You do remember that this is my house, don’t you?” Zoro asks without any heat. “You’re a guest here.”

Sanji’s hands tighten briefly around a couple of onions that he’s busy sorting through, but they release the items as quickly as they’d gripped them. “I suspect that you and I have different definitions of the word ‘guest’.” He notes. “Are you finished in the bedroom then?”

“As finished as I can be.” Zoro replies with an aborted shrug. “I thought you might like to do the actual hanging up, so I made enough space and left the rest for you.”

Sanji looks torn between calling Zoro a slacker and admitting that this is a preferable way of dealing with the situation. It’s been less than a day, but Zoro thinks he’s already starting to be able to read the man. Although, he likewise suspects that Sanji wouldn’t appreciate it if he pointed this out.

“I suppose that will work.” Sanji says finally, and they don’t speak again until he’s finished sorting out the kitchen.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Zoro asks when it becomes clear that Sanji’s moving on to the actual cooking part of the evening. “I feel kind of useless just sitting here.”

He can physically see it when Sanji bites back a particularly scathing retort, and isn’t surprised when the man ultimately shakes his head. “I’ve got it, thanks.” He mutters. “The kitchen’s too small for both of us to work in here.”

“Suit yourself,” Zoro replies. “But you don’t get to complain about having to do everything on your own when I offered.”

“I’m sure I’ll be able to come up with something else to complain about soon enough.” Sanji informs him, and Zoro suspects that that much is true. In their admittedly brief acquaintance he’s already found himself at the mercy of the blond’s sharp tongue multiple times.

“I guess just let me know when it’s ready.” He says.

*****
Supper is even more delicious than breakfast had been. Sanji does things to a couple of Zoro’s most recently caught fish that make flavors he’s never tasted before burst on his tongue and send him grabbing for seconds and thirds before he leans back in his chair with a satisfied groan.

“That was incredible.” He says, and means it. “Where’d you learn to cook like this?”

“I trained with an old chef who considered the ocean to be his second home.” Sanji says, the tips of his ears burning red and his eyes fixed on his own empty plate. “He could whip up the kind of seafood dishes that would have the fish begging to be cooked, and he was good enough to teach me a few tricks of the trade.”

“More than a few it looks like.” Zoro says, patting his stomach and grinning. He definitely understands why Luffy had befriended Sanji now. “I can’t remember the last time I tasted something that amazing.”

“I - thanks.” Sanji mumbles, ducking his head and refusing to meet Zoro’s eye. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“Damn right I did.” Nodding, Zoro stands and moves to start gathering up their dirty dishes. “What?” He asks when Sanji raises his head to peer up at him. “There’s nothing left, so I may as well start cleaning before the plates get all congealed.”

“I can get it.” Sanji says, his hand moving to curl almost reflexively around his plate.

“You cooked.” Zoro reminds him, both his eyebrows raising. “It’s only fair.”

Sanji gives him a quizzical look that suggests he can’t figure Zoro out, but this time when Zoro tugs at the plate, he lets it go. Pleased, Zoro then adds it to the stack of dishes he’s already carrying, and makes his way over to the sink.

The pots and things that Sanji had used to make dinner in are already soaking over here, so Zoro deals with them first. He scrubs industriously at them until all remnants of food particles have been removed, and then leaves them to dry in the rack next to his elbow.

“I can - ” Sanji starts when he notices this, nodding his chin towards the drying cloth that rests on a nearby hook.

“They’ll be fine on their own.” Zoro says, his hands already back in the sudsy water. “We can leave them where they are overnight and then put them away in the morning.”

“If you say so.” Sanji replies, resting his hands flat on the table in front of him. He drums his fingers along the surface for a moment, before taking a deep breath. “Speaking of overnights,” he says stiltedly. “Where exactly do you plan to have me sleep?”

“It’s just,” he adds when Zoro pauses in the act of wiping down a pair of forks. “You don’t appear to have a spare bedroom. Or even a couch for that matter.”

Zoro blinks, glancing around the living area like a couch might magically appear if only he looks hard enough. Unfortunately, no such luck befalls him, and the table and chairs remain the only real furnishings in the room.

“ … right.” He says awkwardly, mentally cataloging the number of blankets he owns and wondering if he might be able to improvise something half decent to put his guest on. “That’s a good point. I probably should have thought of that before you got here.”

“You don’t say.” Sanji drawls, his voice once again the driest thing Zoro’s ever heard. “You really didn’t plan this through at all, did you?”

Zoro shrugs, unconcerned. “We’ll make do.” He decides. “If worse comes to worst, you can always just share with me.”

“What?” He asks when Sanji’s entire body stiffens. “It’s a decent sized bed, Curls. There’s enough room for both of us.”

“Yes, and I suppose your plan is for us to just sleep.” Sanji all but snarls. “Please, I can see where this is going a mile away.”

“Uh, you obviously don’t.” Zoro replies, blinking at the force of the other man’s ire. “Because just sleeping is exactly what I meant. What the hell else would I have been getting at?”

In the face of Sanji’s pointed look, Zoro feels a blush start crawling up the back of his neck. “I definitely didn’t mean that.” He says, fighting to keep a scowl on his face so as to keep the other man from realizing his embarrassment. “Your food’s not that good and you’re not that pretty.”

“Yes it is and yes I am.” Sanji retorts, which is a statement made all the worse due to the fact that it happens to be true. “You’ll have to forgive me for being suspicious under the circumstances.”

“God, you’re obnoxious.” Bracing his hands on either side of the sink, Zoro tilts his head back and stares up at the ceiling, searching for patience in the wood grains of the crisscrossing beems. “Will it help convince you that your virtue is safe with me if I sleep on the floor tonight?”

“Please,” he hears Sanji scoff from the other side of the room. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Groaning, Zoro lets his head fall back down and now peers into the murky depths of the water in the sink. There are still a few dishes that need to be cleaned, but at the moment all he can think about is the unenviable mess a night on the floor is going to make of his back.

“This isn’t going to be a long term solution.” He says, not wanting to commit to anything beyond tonight. Especially when he has no idea how long Sanji’s going to be staying for. “And I’m taking the better pillows if you’re getting the bed.”

“You’re not serious.” Sanji says, and when Zoro dares to look over at him, he finds the other man staring at him like he’s a puzzle that needs solving. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but, whatever it is, it won’t work.”

“Of course it won’t,” Zoro agrees. “Because I’m not playing a game. You’re just paranoid.”

Sanji’s expression flattens, and Zoro gets the distinct impression that their conversation has come to an end.

“It’s not paranoia if you’re right.”

*****
He and Sanji spend the next week locked in some kind of war of attrition where neither one of them will back down. Zoro defiantly throws himself onto the floor next to the bed each night, with nothing but a blanket and the better pillows to keep him company. Meanwhile, Sanji eyes him with unabashed suspicion every time and refuses to fall asleep first. They snipe at each other until Zoro finally drifts off, and then wake up in the morning to start it all over again.

The bickering continues during the day, almost nonstop as they find umpteen things to argue about. Their personalities clash in practically every which way, and Zoro suspects it’s only a matter of time before a literal brawl breaks out between the two of them. They’re a completely mismatched pair when it comes to roommates, and he questions every day why Luffy had thought it was a good idea to push them together.

He also considers saying as much to Sanji on a couple of occasions, but in the end thinks better of it. The other man has so far proven reluctant to say the least to talk about whatever it is that’s driven him away from home, and Zoro’s not overly interested in poking that particular bear. Sanji already finds enough things to yell at him about as it is.

Like the state of the home, for instance. Apparently Sanji’s first bout of cleaning wasn’t enough, and the place still isn’t up to snuff as far as he’s concerned. It also lacks too many amenities, furnishings, and bits of decor. To the point that Zoro suspects he’s going to wake up one day and find that Sanji’s completely redecorated while he was asleep.

The kitchen also remains an ongoing source of contention, even if Sanji’s a little better there. Zoro’s repeated insistence that the man can cook whatever he chooses with whatever supplies he needs seems to have been met with a grudging sort of acceptance. Although it too is layered with Sanji’s ever present bouts of suspicion.

Free reign of the kitchen seems to only go so far, however. Sanji’s becoming increasingly vocal about the limits placed upon him by Zoro’s cookware - or really his lack thereof - and he considers the appliances to be laughably outdated. If Zoro wasn’t currently being fed the best food he’s ever tasted, every day, he’d frankly be offended.

Then there’s Sanji’s strange insistence on following him everywhere he goes. Whenever Zoro’s forced to leave the house, either to go fishing to earn coin, or to run some manner of errands, Sanji comes trailing after him, complaining all the while.

From Zoro’s perspective, he doesn’t get why the blond won’t take a break from him when the opportunity presents itself, since it’s clear he doesn’t like him. Yet, the one time he tells Sanji he’s welcome to stay behind, he’d been met with an incredulous laugh that had such a sarcastic edge to it that he’d felt a little uncomfortable. He hasn’t brought the topic up again, and instead merely braces himself for whatever new litany of complaints Sanji’s managed to come up with this time.

All told it’s a living arrangement that can’t possibly last long term, and Zoro finds himself getting closer to his breaking point with each passing day. Especially since a week of sleeping on his shitty bedroom floor is definitely catching up to him, leaving him stiff and uncomfortable not just in the mornings, but now throughout the rest of the days as well. It’s this fact that he inevitably snaps on, even if he does feel like crap afterwards for letting his temper get the better of him.

He and Sanji are on day eight of their forced living together, and the blond is once again getting worked up about the state of the kitchen. They’ve already eaten supper, yet another incredible meal cooked by Sanji’s own hand, but apparently both the food and the process would have been much better if only he’d had access to the right tools. He’s now going into meticulous detail about where Zoro’s home has been found lacking, seemingly taking great relish in pointing them out one by one.

And Zoro tries, alright? He really does. He tries to just suffer through this latest diatribe with only mild complaining, telling himself that it’s a small price to pay for a full belly following a home cooked meal.

Unfortunately, there’s a stiffness in most of his limbs and an ache in his lower back that’s spread all the way up his spine to ultimately lodge in his temples. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt this uncomfortable, and each word Sanji speaks (snarls, really) feels like it stabs deep into the recesses of his brain. If pressed, he’ll claim this is why his mouth has opened before he’s fully thought things through.

“Fucking hell, would it kill you to fucking shut up for once?!” The words are out before he can stop them, but, even worse, he’s on his feet and slamming a fist down on the table at the same time. The dishes rattle to the point that he’s lucky none of them go flying, and for a long moment the only sound in the room is that of his harsh breathing.

Then Sanji swallows, ducking his head away fast, but not fast enough that Zoro misses the look of fear that flashes across his face. “If that’s what you want.” He says dully, his voice coming out oddly detached. “Of course I’ll be quiet.”

All of the fight flows out of Zoro as quickly as it had come in. In its wake it leaves behind a wave of shame that pools deep in his gut, and he sinks back into his chair, positive that his face is now red from mortification instead of anger.

“No - I - Sorry.” He says weakly, never at his best when it comes to having to apologize, but equally aware that the situation calls for one. “I shouldn’t have yelled. All you did was cook another really good supper, and my pissy mood has nothing to do with you.”

Sanji fidgets with the napkin on his lap. He’d found a whole stack of the things for sale on another of their trips to the market, and insisted on bringing them back so they weren’t stuck wiping their hands on their clothes after a meal.

Now he worries the dark blue fabric between his pale, slender fingers, his face ducked and his shoulders hunched as he refuses to look at Zoro. “You have nothing to apologize for.” He says stiffly. “I’m a … guest in your home. I shouldn’t be complaining about the state of something I have no claim to.”

The way he pauses on the word ‘guest’ leaves Zoro feeling even worse. It serves as an open reminder that Sanji doesn’t want to be here, that he’s running from something that’s probably at least partly responsible for the way he’s flinching away from Zoro now.

It’s this, more than anything else, that causes Zoro to lean across the table and splay a hand out on the surface, letting it rest about equally distant between them. “It’s not you I’m upset with.” He says earnestly. “I’m just tired and feel kind of like shit, but that’s no excuse. I’m sorry.”

Slowly Sanji lifts his head again, peering at Zoro through the fringe of his hair. For his part, Zoro does his best to look like he’s being serious, until the blond finally opens his mouth.

“Why do you feel like shit?” He asks. “Are you sick?”

“I don’t get sick.” Zoro scoffs, grinning slightly when he catches Sanji rolling his eyes. “Nah,” he explains, leaning back in his seat in an attempt to get comfortable. “My back’s fucked up from all the sleeping on the floor I’ve been doing. It hurts and has me in a bad mood, but that’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“Your back - ” Sanji starts, and then pauses, his expression turning thoughtful. “I guess that makes sense.” He says after a moment’s reflection. “Honestly, I figured you’d have given in and kicked me onto the floor by this point.”

Zoro frowns. “Like you said, you’re a guest.” He notes. “I know this place isn’t exactly up to your standards, but there’s no reason for me to go make it worse.”

“Because the floor’s uncomfortable.” Sanji says, returning to fidgeting with the napkin. He’s clearly wrestling with thoughts Zoro can’t parse out, and his shoulders twitch a few times before he appears to come to a conclusion.

“Did you want to share?” He asks quietly. “Obviously I mean only for the purposes of sleeping. I’m not agreeing to anything else, and if you try I’ll kick your ass.”

Someday, provided Sanji sticks around long enough, Zoro’s going to ask him what had happened to make him so suspicious of the motivations of other people. Today is not that day, however. Especially when pressing might cost him his chance at his first decent night’s sleep in over a week.

Therefore all he says aloud is “It’s a deal”, and hopes like hell this is a step forward in the right direction.

*****
Zoro’s never considered his bed to be an overly decadent piece of furniture, but more than a week of going without it leads to him seeing it in a new light. He sinks into the mattress with a pleased groan, barely managing to mumble a goodnight to Sanji, where he’s lying at the very edge of the opposite side, before he’s drifting off to sleep.

He sleeps straight through the night until he’s woken by the twin streams of sunlight filtering through the window and the smell of bacon wafting in from the kitchen. Taking a moment to bask in both, he stretches luxuriously before rolling out of bed and padding out into the main room.

Much like he’s been during every other morning of their joint residency, Sanji’s parked at the stove, fussing with something in a pan. He gives Zoro an acknowledging nod when he sees him, though, and only grimaces a little when Zoro yawns and scratches his chest in response.

Pleased in the face of this progress, Zoro heads towards the table, only to come up short when he realizes it’s not laid out like usual. “Are we doing something different today?” He asks, nodding at the barren surface to explain his question.

Sanji twists around to look at him, and quickly shakes his head. “No.” He says, and then admits stiltedly. “I was a little later than normal in getting up today, so things aren’t quite ready. Sorry.”

Zoro waves him off with a casual flip of his hand. “Nothing to apologize for.” He says around another yawn. “Maybe you didn’t sleep as well because you didn’t have as much space as you have since you've been here. I’ll take care of it.”

“Take care of what?” He asks, his eyebrows raising when Zoro shuffles over to the cupboard where the dishes are kept. “You’re setting the table?”

Pausing in the act of grabbing a pair of mismatched mugs, Zoro leans back to eye him around the corner of the cupboard door. “Contrary to what you may believe, I do know how.” He says, grinning slightly as he adds, “I’ll even grab a couple of your dumb napkins for you, if you like.”

As expected, Sanji bristles. “There’s nothing dumb about basic propriety.” He says, trailing off when Zoro starts snickering at him. “Honestly.” He grumbles, one hand planted on his hip and the other ominously shaking a spatula. “I don’t know why I even bother.”

“I don’t either.” Zoro agrees. “Except for how I’m pretty sure you can’t help yourself. Do you want a spare plate for the bacon?”

“Obviously.”

Unbothered by the man’s tone, Zoro grabs the third plate as directed and carries his entire stash over to the table. Once there, he does his best arrange everything the way he’s seen Sanji do a number of times now, ultimately settling back with a satisfied nod when he’s finished.

“Good, eh?” He says when Sanji arrives with a pan in hand.

“More like passable.” Sanji replies, beginning to scrape the now completed bacon onto the appropriate plate. “But I’ll give you extra points for effort.”

Normally there’d be more than a bit of bite lurking behind those words, but maybe Zoro’s good mood is catching because Sanji seems almost chipper as he moves back and forth between the table and the stove, not stopping until all of breakfast is where it’s supposed to be. He’s even almost smiling when he sits down to eat, something Zoro doesn’t think he’s ever seen him genuinely do before.

Breakfast is as delicious as always, and Zoro doesn’t want to lose sight of the tentative peace they seem to be approaching. That’s why he reclines back in his chair with a satisfied groan, and pins his companion with a look. “What do you need to make the kitchen the way you want it?”

“What do I what?” Sanji asks, his forehead furrowing when Zoro repeats himself. “What kind of question is that?”

“An honest one.” Zoro replies. “Since there doesn’t seem to be any kind of timeline for how long you’re going to be here, I figure there are at least a few areas where I can give ground on, and the kitchen seems to be the most logical starting point. I know you’ve got the ingredients you want, but what else is there?”

“Appliances,” Sanji says after a moment’s heavy pause. “Both updated versions of some of what you already have and new ones entirely. Different kinds of utensils depending on what I’m cooking. A set of proper carving knives. The list is honestly endless. Not to mention expensive. You’re not going to want to hand over the amount of coin required to do what I’d want.”

Zoro shrugs. “S’not like I’m spending it on anything else.” He decides. “And anyway, most of those sound like one time purchases that could earn their keep. Plus, I know a guy or two who might be able to help do it at cost.”

“Oh yeah? And who would that be?” Sanji asks curiously. “From what I’ve seen so far, you don’t exactly seem to be swimming in acquaintances. That person we met at the market the first day I was here is the only one who was even a little familiar with you.”

“You mean Usopp.” Zoro says, having forgotten that they’d encountered the longnosed man that day. “Funnily enough, he’s one of the people I have in mind to talk to. So, what do you think? Are you interested?”

“Am I interested in upgrading this shack into something worthwhile?” Sanji asks dryly. “What do you think?”

“I think that sounds like a yes.” Zoro surmises. “If you like, we can go try and track him down later today. Last I heard he was in debt to the witch again, which means I have a pretty good idea of where we should be able find him.”

Sanji blinks at him. “If you were expecting any of that to make sense, I’m afraid you’re going to be sorely disappointed. Having said that, I’ll admit to you having intrigued me. I’m game to go on this so-called errand if you are.”

“Sounds good.” Zoro nods. “We’ll leave after we’re done eating.”

*****
In the end it takes them a little longer than that to get moving. Not only does Sanji insist that they properly clean up the kitchen once they’re done eating, but after that he wants to put fresh linens on the bed, followed by tidying the bathroom once they’re both done with it.

By the time they actually leave the house it’s getting close to noon, and they still have to trek into town. On the other hand, arriving too early won’t do them any good either, so Zoro contents himself with the idea that they’ve essentially departed right on time.

For his own amusement, he opts not to tell Sanji exactly where they’re going - a fact that he can tell the other man is finding increasingly annoying. More than once he accuses Zoro of leading him on some wild goose chase, especially when they haven’t reached their destination after about an hour’s worth of wandering the town.

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” Sanji eventually asks through gritted teeth, and Zoro - who’s just spotted a familiar sign up ahead - can’t help but grin.

“Little bit, yep.” He confesses, ducking away from the kick Sanji aims at his shins just in time. “C’mon, Curls.” He wheedles, momentarily surprised by the force behind the man’s move. “It’s right up here. I swear.”

“It had better be.” Sanji huffs. “I’m getting tired of walking. The sun’s too strong today, and I’m thirsty.”

“Oddly enough, where we’re going that shouldn’t be a problem.” Zoro says, and starts forward at a decently paced trot.

The sign above the door - etched with an image of a weathervane - swings back and forth as Zoro shoves open the door to the bar. It’s dimly lit inside, not yet open for business for the day, and Usopp startles where he’s in the process of taking the chairs down off of their corresponding tables.

“Zoro?” He says, sounding as surprised as he looks. “And, uh, Sanji, isn’t it? Nice to see you again. Are you two here for a drink? You’re a bit early if you are. We don’t open for about another hour.”

“We do if there are paying customers at the door.” A voice declares, drifting out from a back room where Zoro knows all the accounting ledgers are kept. It’s soon followed by the red headed woman it belongs to, and he tries not to waver when she pierces him with a scornful look.

“Forget I said anything.” Nami says with a sigh and her hands planted on her hips. “That’s not a customer. It’s a bar fight waiting to happen.”

And right, that was the main reason Zoro hadn’t been around in a while. The last time he’d been by he’d gotten into it with a handful of out of town fisherman who hadn’t listened to his pointed comments to let him drink in peace. They’d kept trying to drag him into some drinking game they were playing and had wound up regretting it.

“You owe me for three broken chairs, a damaged table leg, and six spilled pints of beer.” Nami’s saying now, her arms crossing over her chest. “And you’re not getting a drop of booze out of me until you pay up.”

“Aww, come on, Witch.” Zoro groans, glancing around the room. Seeing no signs of evident damage, he turns back to Nami with his own arms crossed. “We both know Usopp’s working here for free to pay off his own debt to you, so you got the table and chairs fixed without any charge.”

“That still doesn’t cover the wasted alcohol.” Nami points out, and Zoro nods, willing to recognize the oncoming deal when he sees it.

“No, it doesn’t.” He acknowledges. “That much I’ll pay you back for, sound good?”

“Sounds acceptable,” Nami replies, “but I’d hardly go so far as to call it good. Lucky for you, I’m intrigued enough by you having company for once to accept your proposal. Who’s your friend, Zoro? And is he going to be as much trouble as you normally are?”

“That’s Sanji.” Usopp says before anyone else has a chance to comment. “The one who’s staying with him.”

“Oh, right. I should have been able to figure that out for myself.” Nami says, wrinkling her nose as she turns to look at Sanji. “After all, it’s not like he’s ever brought anyone else around here. Pleased to meet you. I’m Nami, the proprietor of this fine establishment.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Madame.” Sanji replies with a sweeping bow that Zoro’s horrified to realize doesn’t appear to be for show. “Thank you for allowing us into your place of business outside of working hours, and I humbly apologize for any trouble this oaf may have caused you in the past.”

“ … er. Right.” Nami says when no one else seems to be able to come up with a response to that. “Out of curiosity, why are you two here this early? I mean, you’re welcome to stick around if you keep out of the way, but there’s not much to keep you entertained in the meantime.”

“You’ll have to let grass head here clarify that one for you, my dear.” Sanji says with a nod in Zoro’s direction. “He’s decided to let me make some much needed improvements to the kitchen back at his cottage, and seems to think your friend here can help?”

“Who, me?” Usopp asks, sounding surprised.

“Yeah, you.” Zoro says before Sanji can confuse anyone else. “He wants, like, appliances and things, and you're always futzing around with stuff in your workshop. When you’re not stuck here, that is.” He adds with a wave to encompass the surrounding bar. “I figured you and maybe Franky would be able to come up with what he wants.”

“You’re making home improvements? You?” Nami asks incredulously. “This I have to see. I always expected you to let that place fall down around your ears. If you’re actually doing work on it, I might be convinced to call Usopp and I even so he can help you out just for the novelty.”

“Is there any chance I might get a say in this?” Usopp asks dryly. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem overly offended, and he eyes Sanji with open intrigue. “How’d you convince him to spruce the place up a bit?”

Sanji shrugs. “Mostly through incessant complaining, if I’m being honest.” He says, following the words up with a grin that’s more akin to a smirk. “I’d be ashamed, except it seems to have worked.”

“Funny, it’s never worked for me.” Usopp muses thoughtfully, stroking his chin with one hand. “Oh well, much like Nami I’m definitely interested to see where this is going to go, and I bet Franky will be too. So long as you don’t want anything too crazy, I’m in.”

“Told you it’d be easy enough to find the help.” Zoro tells Sanji, feeling smug. “Usopp and Franky will figure out how to do what you want, and with only minimal explosions if you’re lucky.”

Sanji blinks at this last line. “Come again?”

*****
Usopp sends them on their way with assurances that not only will he stop by the cabin with some of the appliances Sanji had listed, but he’ll pass the word along to Franky as well. He’s quick to make good on his promise too because they’re just finishing breakfast the next morning when a heavy fist knocks on the front door.

“Yeow, look who it is!” Franky crows, beaming wide when Zoro opens up the door to glare at him. “Longnose told me you were offering to let us spruce up this joint and I figured I’d better get myself over here before you changed your mind. So. Are you going to let us in or not?”

The us turns out not to refer to Usopp as Zoro had first suspected, but rather to Robin, Franky’s partner. She flashes a quick grin as Zoro steps back to let them in her, her expression softening when she sniffs appreciatively. “Oh my, what is that smell? It’s simply divine.”

“You’re too kind, Madame,” Sanji says from where he’s wiping the recently washed breakfast dishes down with a towel. “But unfortunately I’m afraid you’re picking up on the remnants of the meal we’ve already eaten. I can always whip up something else if you’d like, however.”

“There’s no need,” Robin’s quick to tell him, holding up a hand to further stall any offers. “We’ve already eaten. I was just caught unexpectedly by the aroma. You must be Zoro’s houseguest. Sanji, I believe?”

“That’s me,” Sanji replies, for once not protesting the use of the word ‘guest’. “On the other hand, I have to admit that I’m at a loss as to who you are because I’m afraid the Mossball never tells me anything.”

Figuring that’s his cue, Zoro grunts and nods in Robin’s direction. “This is Nico Robin and her partner, Franky. He’s the other one who might be able to do the work you want to the kitchen, and I’m assuming she’s here just to be nosy.”

“Moss,” Sanji hisses, his most bitchy tone on full display. “That is not how you talk to or about a lady. Either mind your manners or you and I will be taking this outside.”

“Now then, my dear,” he adds, turning to Robin with a fawning bow while Zoro’s still debating whether or not he wants to rise to that particular challenge. “Nevermind that oaf. You’re of course welcome here for as long as you like. Are you sure I can’t get you anything though? Not even a drink?”

Looking a little taken aback by Sanji’s persistence, Robin waffles a bit. “Well,” she says finally, “I suppose a drink wouldn’t hurt, but please don’t put yourself out on my account.”

“It’s no trouble,” Sanji assures her, already moving. “What would you like - water? Milk? Maybe some juice? Or I could put the kettle on and whip up some coffee or tea?”

“The lady does love her caffeine,” Franky hoots. “I’m pretty sure that’s how she keeps herself able to read at all hours of the night. Although she usually goes for tea over coffee at this time of day.”

“Tea then,” Sanji suggests, throwing in a wink for added measure. “How does that sound?”

“It sounds quite lovely,” Robin says, looking like a woman who’s choosing to pick her battles. “Thank you.”

Sanji brushes aside her thanks with a wave of his hand, which he then uses to reach for the kettle. With a goal clearly set in mind, he starts bustling around the kitchen space, whistling absently to himself as he grabs the tea off a shelf.

Knowing when to get out of the way, Zoro settles at the table and motions for Robin and Franky to join him. “There’s no stopping him when he’s like this,” he tells the pair. “And Franky will only get in his way if he tries to look at the kitchen now.”

“If you’re sure,” the large man says. The chair he settles in creaks slightly under his weight, and he twists so that he can better frown down at its legs. “I’m thinking there are a few other things around here that could use an upgrade, though.”

“Franky.” Robin says before Zoro has a chance. “You were invited to look at the kitchen, specifically. Remember that.”

Franky makes a grumbling noise at this, but offers no further protest. Instead, he lets his gaze roam over the kitchen area, seemingly cataloguing the space and no doubt already drawing up blueprints in his head.

“So,” he says after a contemplative moment or two. “What exactly do you have in mind for this project?”

“Don’t ask me,” Zoro replies with a shrug. “It’s the cook who says the place isn’t up to snuff, so it’s him you’ll need to talk to to figure out what he wants done. Just don’t knock over any walls or blow up my house in the process.”

“Spoilsport,” Franky says. “You know, with a bit more space, I could work some real magic in here.”

Zoro gives him a pointed look. “I said no knocking down walls,” he says firmly. “Just give the cook what he’s asking for, but within reason.”

“Man, you’re limiting my creative genius, you know that right?” Franky complains. “I could turn this place into a vision with the right options.”

“I’ll settle for a fully functional kitchen,” Sanji says, arriving with the steaming kettle and a tray holding four mugs in hand. He sets them down without another word, and quickly heads to retrieve a plate of tea biscuits he’d baked the day prior, along with some butter and jam. “There we go. You can’t have tea without something to go with it.”

“Yeah,” Zoro says when both Robin and Franky turn to look at him. “He’s always like this.”

Sanji sniffs, undeterred, and then drops into the last empty seat at the table. “Now then,” he says, his eyes locking on Franky. “Let’s hear what ideas you have for the kitchen, and I’ll let you know if they line up with my own.”

*****
Franky and Robin stick around until early afternoon. Once the craftsman and Sanji get to talking, it becomes clear that they’re both envisioning a serious project, yet are somehow largely on the same page about it. For his part, Zoro resigns himself to being moderately inconvenienced by people in his home for the next while, but at least Sanji seems pleased with the development.

No actual work gets done that day, but the project starts first thing the next morning. Franky shows up bright and early, this time with Usopp in tow, and it’s not long before the two of them are settling in to work with determined expressions on their faces.

Not wanting to be underfoot during all the commotion, Zoro leaves the house after extracting yet another promise from both men not to do anything that requires explosives. Surprisingly, Sanji trails after him as well, apparently content to leave the actual work to the professionals.

They repeat this process several times over the coming days. Each morning they get up and have as good a breakfast as Sanji is able to prepare with the kitchen in shambles, and after that they hand the place over to Franky and Usopp. Some days they go fishing, others to the market, and others still they just wile away the hours wandering through town and the surrounding countryside.

By the time the kitchen renovations are declared done well over two weeks have passed, and they’re summarily informed that everyone is going out to celebrate the completion of the project. Zoro tries to argue against it, but Franky and Usopp are adamant, after which Sanji also puts his foot down.

That’s how he finds himself down at Nami’s bar later that evening, nursing a glass of beer and nibbling on some side dish that Sanji had procured from somewhere. The man in question has long since wandered off to play darts with Usopp, and Zoro wishes him well in that endeavour.

Nami’s behind the bar for the time being, even though he has no doubt she’ll cede that territory to someone else eventually, and Chopper’s been coaxed out of his study to join them all. The diminutive med student is posted up at the bar, sipping at a milkshake he must have somehow conned the redhead into giving him.

Brook has likewise made an appearance, although Zoro suspects he was much easier to con into coming out. He’s currently seated at a makeshift stage, idly strumming a guitar with his ridiculously thin fingers, while Franky and Robin round out the group with a dance that in no way follows the music.

Other patrons can be found dotted around the room, but none of them are familiar to Zoro. Luckily, none of them seem inclined to bother him either, so he’s at least been left to drink in peace as his friends all amuse themselves elsewhere.

It’s nice enough, he supposes. Especially since he doesn’t think they’ve all gotten together like this since Luffy was last in town. He wonders where the younger man is these days, not used to him staying away for as long as he has this time. Maybe he should ask Sanji if he has any idea, seeing as he’s the one who’s seen him most recently.

As if summoned by that thought a hand flashes in Zoro’s peripheral, setting down a loaded tankard on the table before it grabs the chair next to his and draws it backwards. Sanji drops into the chair shortly thereafter, causing Zoro to glance at him in surprise.

“Thought you were busy letting Usopp kick your ass at darts?” He says, one eyebrow rising high along with his question.

Snorting, Sanji takes a gulp from his glass and sags heavily in his seat. “Funny,” he grumbles with his gaze locked on the amber liquid that is his drink of choice, “I had no idea that an asskicking was going to take place. You could have warned me about his freakishly good aim.”

“And miss out on the chance of watching you make a fool of yourself?” Zoro scoffs. “Not fuckin’ likely. Where’s the fun in that?”

“I believe it’s in not being a total asshole,” Sanji retorts, but Zoro can tell the quip isn’t as heated as usual. “Or did no one ever bother to teach you even the most basic of manners?”

“One or two folks have tried,” Zoro allows. “Didn’t take though.”

Sanji makes a face that suggests this much is obvious, but again he’s not as irritated as he tends to be. In fact, he seems downright mellow by comparison’s standards. Zoro bets it’s because of the kitchen.

“So,” he says after they’ve spent a few moments sitting in semi-awkward silence. “What’s the next change you’d like to inflict on my house?”

Sanji casts a sideways glance his way, looking more thoughtful than annoyed. “I don’t know,” he says finally. “How much are you willing to let me get away with?”

Zoro shrugs. “I guess that depends on what you’re after. Although, I’m still not interested in knocking any walls down, so extra rooms are out of the question.”

“That’s unfortunate. We could do with a bit more space.”

Maybe they could, Zoro allows, willing to acknowledge that the cabin can get a little cramped at times with the two of them. However, it won’t always be the two of them, and Zoro doesn’t much relish the idea of rattling around in his home once Sanji’s gone. That’s the main reason the place is as small as it is.

“The space we have now is fine,” he says aloud, “but - I could maybe be convinced to bring in some more furniture if you think it’s a good idea.”

Sanji gives him a look that’s almost but not quite a smirk. “I would consider offering up one of my less important limbs for a proper couch or even a decent armchair. If we rearranged the dining area now that the kitchen is done, we could create a bit of a living space out front. It’d be nice to have something to sit on other than the bed and the kitchen chairs - the former isn’t always practical and the latter aren’t the most comfortable pieces of furniture in the world.”

Zoro considers this. A couch or an armchair were both things he could still make use of after Sanji was gone, and might stem complaints from the few visitors he does tend to have. Plus, he could use them for naps if he felt like it.

“I could maybe be convinced by that plan,” he says after taking a bit longer to ponder it. “There are some shops that might have what we’re after, or we could look into having something commissioned.”

“The shops will probably be quicker,” Sanji replies. “Cheaper too, which means we might have a little left over for decor.”

That part Zoro wrinkles his nose at. “Decor isn’t necessary,” he says dismissively. “All it does is take up space without serving any real purpose.”

“Taking up space is its purpose,” Sanji says, a little sharper now. “That and turning a boring, depressing hovel into something with personality that makes it feel lived in. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, Mossball.”

Except anything of that nature would only serve to remind him of Sanji, and Zoro’s not sure he’ll want that once the blond is gone. Much though it pains him to admit it - at least in the privacy of his own head because like hell is he doing it out loud - he’s getting used to having the other man around, and hasn’t quite figured out what effect his leaving will have. Better not to make too many changes, and especially not ones he can’t justify away as having practical uses.

“No decor,” he reiterates. “Unless it’s something that will actually be useful.”

Sanji sighs, blowing an expansive breath out through his nose, but relents for the time being. “Fine,” he allows. “We’ll start with the furniture and then I’ll try and find some decorative items that I can also pass off as having a purpose. I’m sure something out there exists that won’t have you wanting to heave it through a window.”

“Doubt it,” Zoro tells him. “But fill your boots if you like.”

“Mmm,” Sanji hums absently to himself, shifting awkwardly in his seat a few times. His mouth opens and closes, like he does and doesn’t want to say something, and then he sighs again. “Don’t expect me to repeat this, but I suppose I could thank you for letting me upgrade the kitchen. It’ll be … nice. To have it the way I want it.”

Now Zoro raises one shoulder in a more truncated shrug. “S’fine,” he says. “Practical, even.”

“Unlike the decor,” Sanji surmises, his voice desert dry. “Message received.”

Not knowing what else to say, Zoro shrugs again.

*****
The remodeled kitchen lives up to its hype. With the updated appliances and increased storage space, Sanji’s able to churn out meals that are even better than before, leaving Zoro well fed and satisfied in their wake.

Likewise, he has little to complain about when the new couch and matching arm chair arrive. He finds out that the couch is great for napping on almost immediately - shoving furniture around at Sanji’s direction was a very tiring experience - and now routinely sacks out on it most afternoons.

Additional odds and ends slowly make their way into the home, albeit nothing nearly as large as the new furniture, and Zoro finds himself not minding as much as he’d thought he would. Granted, Sanji holds true to the agreement that he only bring in practical items, but the point stands.

Before Zoro knows it, over a month has passed since Sanji had arrived on his doorstep, and with no apparent end in sight. During that time they’ve gone from overtly hostile to almost something that could be described as friendly, even though he’s positive Sanji is still holding back on him.

The blond never talks about where he came from, or what has led him to seek sanctuary in an obviously foreign land. He also never brings up Luffy, which Zoro does admittedly find a little odd, and never explains how the younger man had come to offer up Zoro’s home as a place of refuge.

He does thankfully stop referring to said home as a ‘hovel’, however. In fact, some days Zoro thinks he might even be starting to like the place, or at least no longer despise it outright. On the other hand, he’s still clearly unhappy overall, and Zoro feels an uncomfortable twinge in his chest when he realizes that such a state of affairs is starting to bother him too.

Sanji is … complicated and confusing in any number of ways, but he’s also intriguing and downright fun if you can get him in the right mood. When he’s not directing his irritable, petty barbs at Zoro specifically, his sharp wit and even sharper tongue are actively hilarious, frequently sending the other man into fits of snickers when he catches Sanji aiming his scathing retorts at whatever hapless patsy has managed to irritate him.

He’s also incredibly smart, the most talented cook Zoro has ever seen, and none too easy on the eyes when you get down to it. All told, he’s exactly Zoro’s type, and it’s becoming increasingly obvious that Zoro wouldn’t mind having him stick around if the opportunity presented itself.

That’s unlikely to happen, though. Sanji never makes any noise about trying to find his own place in town, which means he’s not planning to settle here long term. If he was, Zoro might be inclined to try and start something, but as it is he knows a lost cause when he sees one. He’ll miss Sanji when he goes, but at least this way there won’t be any awkwardness added to the mix.

*****
The door to the cottage snaps out of Zoro’s grip due to the force of the wind, and slams shut behind them before he can grab it again. The sound echoes around the dark interior of the living space, and Zoro stomps his feet to try and get some feeling into them.

“Fuck that’s cold,” he growls, bringing his hands to his mouth to blow on them. “It looks like the witch was right, we’re in for a nasty storm tonight.”

“Don’t call Nami that,” Sanji says absently. Unlike Zoro, he’s moved away from the door already, and is tossing logs onto the fireplace that provides the main source of heat for the structure. It’s clear he intends to get a fire going, and Zoro can’t help but applaud his initiative.

“I’ll call Nami whatever I want,” he mutters belatedly. “Besides, I was saying she was right about the weather, and that’s a compliment.”

“Only in your pea brain sized mind,” Sanji replies as he prods the logs into place with the poker. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re still being an uncouth oaf.”

“Yeah, but you feel that way all the time,” Zoro reminds him, striding forward to get a better look at what the blond is doing. “You need more kindling,” he says after a moment. “It’s not going to catch properly without it.”

“I know that, thanks,” Sanji grumbles. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Recognizing a tone that never bodes well for him, Zoro holds his hands up in surrender and wanders over to the kitchen. “Do you want me to put the kettle on?” He asks. “Some tea might help us warm up after being outside, and the stove will be another source of heat for a bit.”

“The stove is going to do jack shit and you know it,” Sanji mutters. “But sure, tea sounds good. Just don’t burn anything or otherwise fuck up my kitchen.”

Zoro considers pointing out that technically it’s his kitchen since he owns the whole cottage. Unfortunately, the last time he’d done that Sanji hadn’t spoken to him for two days and had kicked him in the shin whenever he thought he could get away with it. Since the man apparently kicks like a mule, it’s not a situation Zoro’s looking to repeat.

His mind therefore made up, he sets about getting the tea on without any further commentary. While he works, he soon hears the sound of logs starting to crackle, and looks up to find that Sanji now has a fire burning merrily away.

“Not bad,” he says, nodding appreciatively. He thinks about it for a second, and then adds, “You should open the bedroom door to try and get the heat to spread in there. Otherwise we’re in for a cold one when we try to go to sleep.”

“I think it’s fair to say we’re in for a cold one, regardless,” Sanji notes, even as he crosses the room to do as Zoro suggests. “It’s too bad we don’t have any spare blankets. We should look into getting some after this storm passes.”

About to offer up a different solution, Zoro’s distracted by the sudden screaming of the kettle. Jolting in place, he rushes to grab it to make the noise stop, and quickly fills the two mugs he has resting on the countertop with steaming water.

“Here,” he says, carrying them over to the table by their handles. “The tea bags are already inside, and I’ll grab the milk and sugar in a second.”

“I’ve trained you well,” Sanji says. Drawing one of the mugs towards himself, he sits down at the table and gives Zoro a faint grin over the rim. “The next thing you know, you’ll be using ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ without my having to tell you to do it beforehand.”

“Don’t get cocky,” Zoro warns him, even as he returns with milk and sugar in hand. “Getting the tea ready benefits me, so I have no problem doing that one. Being polite doesn’t get me anywhere, though, so I still can’t be bothered.”

Sanji rolls his eyes, but there’s no real heart behind the motion. It’s become clear in recent days that he still thinks Zoro is an idiot, but he hasn’t been nearly as vicious as he was when he first arrived for a while.

Setting the tray down on the table, Zoro adds the barest splash of milk to his mug, and then offers it to Sanji. The man takes it, pours in considerably more than Zoro has, and next reaches for the sugar.

“You’re sure you don’t want any?” He asks, even though he already knows the answer. He nods when Zoro brushes him off with a wave of his hand, clearly unsurprised. “There go your wonky tastebuds in action yet again.”

“So you say.”

Sanji makes a face, but otherwise doesn’t take the bait and respond with a crack that could escalate them into an argument. Instead, he stirs the sugar in his cup until it’s thoroughly intermingled, and then takes a sip.

“Not bad,” he says, the words following a sigh of satisfaction. “Especially on a night like this. It’s frigid out there.”

“Yeah.” The walk back from Nami’s had been unpleasant to say the least, and Zoro once again turns his mind to how cold it’s going to be in the bedroom when they turn in for the night. Even their shared body heat is only going to do so much to ward off the chill.

Abruptly reminded of the thought he’d had earlier, he straightens in his seat, brightening slightly. “You’re right that we don’t have any spare blankets, but there might be another option. I’ve got an old seal pelt in a trunk that we could add to the mix.”

He’s expecting Sanji to look intrigued by this announcement, maybe even pleased. He’s not expecting for the other man’s eyes to narrow or for his mouth to curve in a furious snarl.

“That’s not funny,” he growls, his eyes flashing. “Of all the fucking nerve - I can’t believe you.”

Caught off guard, Zoro blinks at him in surprise. He’s heard Sanji annoyed and angry with him before, but he’s never encountered anything like this, and he’s got no idea what had set the man off.

“What’s the matter?” He asks. “Have you got some issue about using fur that I don’t know about? Because from where I’m standing, beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Why you - !” For a single, brief moment, Zoro thinks Sanji’s going to toss the scalding mug of tea right in his face. Then the moment passes, and the blond is shoving his chair back from the table, his back ramrod straight as he stands.

“Of all the disgusting, vile, cruel things you could have done,” Sanji spits, his knuckles white around the mug he’s still holding. “I should have known better than to drop my guard around you. You lured me in a bit with the kitchen and the so-called ‘respectful behaviour’, but you’re just as awful as I figured you’d be, and now you’re letting your true colours show!”

“Hey!” Zoro snaps, surging to his own feet. “I don’t know what the hell’s got your underwear in a twist, Curls, but all I’ve done is put a roof over your head and try to be decent to you the whole time you’ve been here. I’m doing you a favour, and you’re treating me like shit in return.”

“A favour?!” Sanji echoes, his voice pitching high in a near shriek. “That’s what you call this?! I can’t go home, you asshole! I’m trapped here against my will and you’re - you’re - you’re mocking me. And now you’re acting like you don’t even have a clue! What’s the matter with you?”

He trails off, his chest heaving with exertion, and stands where he is while Zoro struggles to gather his thoughts.

“I’m not mocking you,” Zoro says finally, still confused as to how this conversation has taken such an abrupt turn. “I honestly don’t know why you’re so pissed all of a sudden, but I guess that’s my fault for expecting you to act like a normal human being.”

Sanji’s lips flatten at that, but Zoro keeps talking, barreling over him before he can launch into another tirade. “You’ve got no reason to act like a dick all the time, not when I’ve opened my home to you without ever asking for anything in return.”

Brilliantly white teeth gleam when Sanji bares them in a snarl. “And how long is it going to be before that changes?” He spits. “Don’t deny it. I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

Zoro flinches, both caught out and offended by the insinuation, even though it’s technically one Sanji’s made before. “That’s it,” he says once he’s managed to find his voice again. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m not putting up with it any further. Your ass can sleep out here tonight, and then tomorrow we’re going to find somewhere else for you to go. I’m done with you.”

Sanji frowns at him. “I can’t … ” he starts, but Zoro stops him with a sharp jerk of his head.

“I don’t care,” he says flatly. “I’m going to bed, and then tomorrow I’m getting rid of you. Favour or no favour, you’re not worth this.”

And with that said, he marches past a confused looking Sanji and slams the bedroom door behind him.

*****
Zoro goes to bed still steaming from their fight, and promptly sleeps like shit. Between the rage still simmering in his veins and the cold, he tosses and turns repeatedly, unable to get comfortable. Eventually he gives up trying somewhere around 5am, and wanders back out into the living area, rubbing his hands against the still pervasive chill.

He’s surprised to be greeted by the smell of coffee, and even more so when he spots a plate of bacon simmering on the stove. Sanji glances up briefly from the pan as Zoro enters, but looks away just as quickly.

“ … good morning,” he eventually says, almost as an afterthought. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine.” Zoro lies, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was uncomfortable. “You?”

Sanji shrugs. “I didn’t,” he says flatly, which Zoro refuses to feel bad about. “It was cold out here even with a fire lit, and you had all the bedding in the room with you.”

And, okay, maybe that had been a bit of a dick move - one Zoro hadn’t even technically realized he was making at the time - but he maintains that Sanji had started things. There’d been no call for his shitty attitude, no matter what he says.

Those piercing blue eyes are now watching him suspiciously, though, and Zoro feels something uncomfortably akin to shame start prickling along the back of his neck. Therefore it’s him who looks away this time, and he ducks into the bathroom as much to diffuse the situation as he does because he needs to relieve himself.

Sanji’s still standing at the stove when he reemerges, prodding carefully at the crackling bacon with a pair of tongs. His mouth is pursed in a frown, like it’s not cooking the way he wants it to, and there’s no mistaking the tight line of his shoulders.

Zoro flicks his gaze over to the table, noting that it’s not set yet. Not knowing what else to do, he heads for the cupboards and wordlessly begins pulling down plates and mugs, figuring he may as well make himself useful since it looks like they’re both up for the day.

Sanji likewise doesn’t say anything as he works, but he does accept the plate for the bacon that Zoro offers him. Setting it to the side on the counter, he then picks up a spatula and prods at a second pan containing eggs.

They continue on in the same vein for the next several minutes. No words pass between them as the table is set, the coffee is brewed, and the food is plated up to be eaten. Then they sit down on opposite sides of the table and dig into their meals.

The sun rises as they eat, the early morning rays streaming in through the window and making the lanterns that Sanji had lit to cook by moot. It bathes the room in an early morning glow, possessed of a sort of serenity that’s at odds with the tension between the two men.

Finally, Zoro cracks. What food he’s already eaten is sitting heavy in his stomach, somehow devoid of its usual flavour and bringing with it an onset of guilt, regardless of whether or not it was warranted.

“I shouldn’t have left you stranded out here last night,” he mumbles, speaking more to his half empty plate than to his companion. “It wasn’t fair.”

Sanji shrugs, the movement far less fluid than usual. “I guess it could have been worse,” he says, both sides of his mouth turned down. “You could have put me out on the doorstep and left me to actually freeze.”

Zoro jerks at that, his head coming up without his intending to let it. “I wouldn’t have done that,” he hisses. “I mean, I was pissed, sure, but I’m not a monster, Curls. Damn. Just because this, uh, arrangement of ours, or whatever, doesn’t seem to be working out, that doesn’t mean I want you dead.”

“If you say so,” Sanji replies. “Me, I don’t know why you ever expected this arrangement to go anything but poorly to begin with.”

“Well it’s not like it was my idea,” Zoro retorts, which just makes Sanji scoff.

“Whatever, Mosshead,” he says, sounding exhausted. “So are you going to make good on last night’s threat then? Personally, I don’t see how it’s going to work since I literally can’t go anywhere, but you may as well lay it on me, I suppose.”

Zoro frowns, caught once again by the reminder that Sanji’s stranger in a strange land with no real place to call his own. Just shoving him out the door, no matter how much last night’s comments might warrant it, would be the height of cruelty, and who knows how Luffy would react once he found out.

Still, they can’t continue on as they have been because at this rate they’re going to wind up killing each other if something doesn’t change. Their current situation is no longer sustainable and something has to give.

“I’m not just kicking you entirely to the curb,” he eventually says out loud. “You’re a pain in the ass, sure enough, but not even I’m that much of an asshole. I’m going to need some time to think about it, but you can stay here until we’ve got a new plan in place.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Sanji asks, his eyebrows flying up to his hairline. “What are you going to do - give me away?”

“Maybe something like that,” Zoro says after a moment’s pause. “There’s got to be someone else in town who wouldn’t mind having you around. Maybe even someone with a spare room so you’ll each have some space to call your own.”

He thinks he’s being reasonable when he says this, but the look on Sanji’s face tells him the other man doesn’t agree. Instead he looks furious, and like he’s contemplating the quickest way to bash Zoro’s head in.

“You are just - just - I don’t even have words for what you are,” the blond eventually snaps. “You’re just terrible.”

And Zoro considers rising to the bait, but honestly he can’t seem to muster up the energy. Whether it’s exhaustion from a poor night’s sleep or residual confusion stemming from having no idea what he’d done to set the other man off, he doesn’t have it in him to fight anymore.

“Call me what you want,” he says tiredly. “I’ll pop into Nami’s tonight and see if she has any leads on a place you might go. It’s probably our best option at this point.”

Sanji gives him a scathing look, but doesn’t say anything further.

*****
The two of them don’t speak for the rest of the day. Sanji keeps himself hunkered down in the kitchen area, doing who knows what to pass the time, and Zoro decides to leave him to it. Wanting to avoid the possibility of another shouting match, he takes himself back to the bedroom, although he refuses to call what he’s doing ‘hiding’.

As soon as it’s late enough, he grabs his boots and jacket, fully intending to head down to Nami’s as promised. He’s surprised to find Sanji waiting for him when he emerges, the man already wearing his own outdoor wear.

“You’re coming with?” Zoro asks, one eye rising in confusion.

Sanji gives him an exasperated look, his shoulders tense. “How have you not figured out that that’s the way this works?” He asks, but Zoro just shrugs, not in the mood to try and parse through the other man’s weirdness tonight.

“If you’re coming you’re coming,” he says instead. “Let’s go.”

No words are exchanged between them as they walk into town, and Sanji immediately peels off the second they step inside the bar. At first Zoro thinks he’ll be heading for the front to fawn over Nami, but in actuality he goes for the dart board where Usopp appears to have set up shop.

More than willing to leave him to it, Zoro crosses the room until he can hit up the bar. Bracing his hands on the polished countertop, he coughs loudly to get Nami’s attention, giving her his best hangdog expression when her eyes narrow upon spotting him.

“You’ve got an unpaid tab,” she says before he has a chance to open his mouth. “You’re not getting so much as a drop of alcohol until you’ve covered it in full, plus interest.”

Zoro sinks onto one of the bar stools, doing his best to look pathetic. “C’mon, witch,” he wheedles. “I’m having a shitty night on top of a shitty day on top of another shitty night. I deserve booze for my misfortunes.”

Nami’s expression doesn’t soften, and her resulting eye roll is less than impressed. “What’s the matter?” She asks sarcastically. “Trouble in paradise?”

Zoro snorts. “In order for there to be trouble in paradise I’d have to have found paradise first. Instead I’m in hell, and I’ve been there for a month now. Either that changes or one of us is going to kill the other.”

Nami continues staring at him for a long moment, when suddenly the corner of her mouth ticks up in a faint grin. “Well,” she says, a mischievous glint appearing in her eye that Zoro doesn’t trust at all, “it might just be that I have something that can help with that.”

Opening his mouth to ask her what the hell she’s talking about, Zoro winds up gagging stead when skinny arms wrap around his neck and a deceptively heavy body plasters itself to his back. All too familiar with such embraces, he’s still too slow to get a hand up to prevent a delighted voice from crowing in his ear.

“ZORO!” Luffy shouts, loud enough that Zoro’s pretty sure he’ll be hearing the echo for at least the next few minutes. “I MISSED YOU!”

Despite the way the other man is literally hanging off of him, Zoro feels like a sudden weight has been lifted from his shoulders. Grinning in spite of himself, he straightens upright, indifferent to the way this just makes Luffy dangle above the floor.

“Luffy!” He laughs, doing his best to twist and get his friend in a headlock. “Where the fuck have you been?”

In answer, Luffy cackles in his ear, wriggling in every possible direction to try and avoid Zoro’s grasping hands. “I’ve been all over!” He says, sounding pleased with himself. “Having adventures.”

“And by ‘having adventures’ he means ‘committing felonies and evading the law’,” Nami drawls from the other side of the counter. Shaking her head in resignation, she gives Luffy a look that’s still rife with fondness. “He hasn’t changed, I can tell you that much.”

“You say that like it’s a surprise,” Zoro retorts, batting one of Luffy’s hands away when he notices it straying towards his earrings. “Pull on those and I’ll feed you your damn hat,” he says firmly. “You know I hate it when you do that.”

“But they make fun noises!” Luffy insists. “And so do you when they pinch.”

“You’re the worst,” Zoro sighs, while Nami shakes her head. “But I’m still really glad to see you. Do you want to go grab a booth?”

“Can we get snacks?!”

Zoro shoots Nami a beseeching look, and she’s quick to hold her hands up in surrender. “Yeah, I’m not stupid enough to get between him and food,” she assures him. “The damages would far outweigh the costs. If you can get him off to the side somewhere, I’ll have something sent over.”

“It’s a deal,” Zoro tells her. “C’mon, Luffy. Let’s get out of Nami’s hair so she can get an order placed, and then we’ll get you taken care of.”

Punching a fist in the air, Luffy allows Zoro to carry him piggyback style across the room, and scrambles into a booth once they reach a free one. He sits up straight, his eyes bright and his legs swinging back and forth as he waits for Zoro to take the seat across from him. “I hope there’s lots of meat.”

“I wouldn’t worry,” Zoro says as he sits. “Nami knows what you like. We all do.”

Luffy grins, his teeth flashing white, and reaches for a napkin to stuff inside his shirt collar. It’s too small to fit properly, and therefore looks ridiculous, but he seems pleased with the result. “So,” he says brightly. “How’ve you been?”

Promptly reminded of his earlier woes, Zoro feels his smile dim somewhat as his shoulders tighten. He doesn’t want to make Luffy feel guilty about dumping Sanji on him for the past month, but, at the same time, the experience hasn’t exactly been a picnic in recent days.

“I’ve been … okay,” he says slowly. “It’s been weird having someone in my space this whole time, though, and it’s kind of starting to be a bit … much.”

Luffy’s dark eyes stare at him, unblinking. “Who’s been in your space?” He asks. “Did you make a new friend?”

Zoro can’t help but snort at that. “We’re definitely not friends,” he says firmly. “Hell, we’re not even civil right this second. Also, what do you mean, who’s been in my space? Sanji, obviously.”

Luffy continues staring at him. “Who’s Sanji?”

Now it’s Zoro’s turn to stare. “Uh, you know,” he says, wondering if Luffy had somehow forgotten about the favor he’d asked him for over a month ago. “The guy you sent to come stay with me because he needed a place to lay low?”

Luffy still doesn’t blink, but his face does scrunch up the way it does when he’s deep in thought. “The guy I - oh, Jinbe! You mean Jinbe! Yeah, I was gonna send him to you for a bit, but he ended up hiding out with some old friends of his. Didn’t I send you another letter about that? I meant to.”

Zoro gapes at him. “I didn’t get another letter,” he finally manages to choke out. “And what do you mean you wanted me to put up someone named Jinbe? I’ve had Sanji in my place for like a month now.”

Luffy scratches his chin, looking like he’s thinking even harder now. “Nah,” he says after a few seconds. “I don’t know anyone called Sanji. Where is he? Can I meet him?”

“Can you - ?” Zoro sputters. “I thought you had met him!” He exclaims, his mind reeling. “I thought you were friends with him and that was why you dumped him on me out of the blue!”

Luffy laughs at this. “Nope!” He insists, his eyes shining. “I’ve never met him before in my life. That’s funny though. I wonder what - Zoro? Hey! Zoro! Where are you going?”

Already halfway out of the booth, Zoro waves away Luffy’s grasping hands. “Not now, Luf!” He growls, his eyes locked on the spot where he can see a familiar head of blond hair. “You stay here and enjoy whatever Nami brings you, I’ve got something I need to get to the bottom of.”

He thinks he hears Luffy offer up some kind of agreement, but he’s already too busy stalking across the room to pay much attention. His thoughts going a mile a minute, he shoulders through the crowd until he can reach out to snag his intended target by the elbow.

Sanji’s eyes widen in surprise at Zoro’s sudden appearance, and he opens his mouth to say something - most likely an unimpressed comment about being grabbed. Whatever it is dies on his lips at the sight of Zoro’s expression, however, replaced with something far more cautious.

“We,” Zoro says once he’s found his voice, “need to talk.”

*****
“For the record, I was having a lovely conversation with Usopp before you so rudely interrupted us, so you’d better have a good explanation for your behaviour.”

It’s the first thing either of them have said since Zoro had bodily dragged Sanji out of the bar and back to the cabin. It’s also spoken with an edge of nervousness that Zoro isn’t used to hearing from his companion, like Sanji’s actively wary of him tonight.

Unfortunately, that combined with the swirling reams of confusion Zoro’s feeling only serve to make him more flustered, not less. Letting go of Sanji’s arm with possibly more force than necessary, he whirls around and glares at the other man for all he’s worth.

“Who are you and what the fuck have you been doing in my house?!” The demand is harsh, his expression more so, but all it serves to do is make Sanji give him a flummoxed look.

“I’m Sanji,” he says, sounding his name out slowly. “S-a-n-j-i. Sanji. You’ve known my name for the whole month you’ve had me trapped here, so I don’t know why you’re asking for it now.”

“The whole month I’ve - I never asked you to come here!” Zoro sputters. “And what do you mean ‘trapped’? You’re running from something and I’ve been giving you a place to hide. Or at least I thought I was, right up until Luffy got back and told me you’re not the guy he was sending my way.”

“Lu - ? You mean your friend with the hat?” Sanji asks. “The one you all talk about like he’s the impromptu leader of your little ragtag posse? What’s he got to do with anything?”

“So you don’t know him then?” Zoro asks, needing to be sure.

“No,” Sanji replies, one curled eyebrow quirking. “I’d never laid eyes on him before tonight. Why would I? I lived in the sea until you dragged me out of it.”

Zoro blinks. Then he blinks some more. Then he blinks a few more times for good measure and tries not to think about how Nami says he looks like an idiot whenever he does so because of his missing eye.

“ … huh?” He finally settles on, his voice taking on a shrill quality that he might be embarrassed about later. “What are you talking about? No one lives in the sea. It’s impossible. They’d drown.”

“Well obviously I wasn’t in it 24/7,” Sanji admits, his brow furrowing. “But I certainly spent most of my time there. All of my people do. Or, at least the ones of us who haven’t had our pelts stolen.”

He says the last word with a particularly accusing lilt and levels Zoro with a glare that only adds to the feeling. Then he crosses his arms over his chest and raises his chin defiantly. “For the record, I truly never thought that would be a scenario that would apply to me. But then you came along, you and your grubby, thieving paws.”

“Hey,” Zoro snaps, offended. “I didn’t steal shit from you. Hell, I was trying to help you as a favour to a friend.”

For a second he’s half expecting Sanji to lash out at him, physically this time, but then he sees it as the other man visibly gets a grip on his temper and raises a placating hand instead.

“I think we might be having two separate conversations,” he says, like the admission actually pains him to make. “Why did you think you were helping me?”

Not wanting to let Sanji win whatever’s happening here, Zoro decides to try and stay calm too. “Luffy’s been away roaming for a bit. He tends to do that whenever he gets restless, and he has a habit of picking up strays wherever he goes. Trust me, I was one of them once.”

Probably the very first of all, if he’s being honest, but that’s neither here nor there.

“The day before you showed up on my front step, I got a letter from him asking if I could let some friend he’d made hole up with me for a bit. He didn’t give me a name, so when I woke up to you trying to beat down my door, I just assumed you were that person.”

“And you never thought to ask?” Sanji says, giving him an incredulous look. “Also, I did not try and beat down anything. I knocked like a civilized person, which was frankly more than you deserved under the circumstances.”

“For what?” Zoro asks snidely. “Opening up my house to a stranger in trouble?”

“Oh for - I’m not the person you were waiting for!” Sanji snaps. “I’m the person you kidnapped and forced to live in squalor for a month!”

“There is nothing wrong with my house, you asshole!” Zoro snaps. “And I tried to make it nicer for you, regardless, so give me some fuckin’ credit, why don’t you? Also, for the last time, I didn’t kidnap you. You just showed up and I was nice enough to let you in.”

Sanji bares his teeth at him, his blue eyes wild. “I showed up,” he growls, flashing the most sarcastic set of air quotes Zoro has ever seen, “because you stole my fucking pelt! Don’t you know the stories?! If a human takes a selkie’s pelt, we’re bound to them for as long as they have it!”

Zoro stares at him, several seconds ticking by until … “Bullshit. There’s no such thing.”

“Oh no?” Sanji demands, his lip still dangerously curled. “Then answer me this. The day before I showed up here - did you or did you not take a seal skin from where it was hidden on the shore?”

“I mean - ” Zoro starts, an uncomfortable tension starting to settle between his shoulder blades. “It wasn’t exactly hidden.”

“Marimo!”

“Alright, alright,” Zoro says, raising his hands in capitulation. “I might have found one and taken it, yeah, but it was a nice pelt. Obviously high quality, and there wasn’t anyone around to claim it.”

“Wanna bet?” Sanji asks, the words rife with sarcasm. “Because here I am, and here I’ve been this whole time.”

“But - ” Once again Zoro struggles to wrap his mind around what he’s hearing. “Selkies aren’t real.”

Sanji’s sole response to raise an eyebrow in the singlehandedly most sarcastic motion Zoro’s ever seen.

And Zoro knows the stories, alright? Myths and legends run rampant in little villages like this one, with stories about creatures from the sea being all the more common due to proximity. That doesn’t mean he’s ever believed them, however, and if it is true then that means - it means -

“I stole your pelt?” He says weakly, trying the words on for size. “I … trapped you on land?”

“Not just on land,” Sanji retorts, although a sliver of fire seems to have leached out of his voice. “If a human gets their hands on a selkie’s pelt, we don’t just have to stay out of the sea, we have to stay in close proximity to that person.”

Which would explain why Sanji was always underfoot even when he was at his most frustrated with Zoro. If what he’s saying is true, he couldn’t have strayed far under the circumstances.

That tension between Zoro’s shoulders is starting to not only increase but also move. It’s now pooling low in his gut and if he were to give it a name, the best one he could come up with would be guilt.

Clearing his throat, he nevertheless does his best to meet Sanji’s gaze. “Like you’re so fond of telling me, the cabin isn’t exactly huge. If you were so sure from the beginning that I had your pelt, why didn’t you just search for it and steal it back?”

Sanji gives him a flat look. “What in the world makes you think I didn’t try?” He asks. “I know it’s in that trunk at the foot of the bed, but there was no way for me to break the lock without drawing your attention and I didn’t exactly relish your reaction to my attempting to escape.”

“You … thought I’d hurt you,” Zoro forces himself to say, the guilt swirling even faster now. “Because you thought I was deliberately keeping you here against your will.”

“Yes.” Sanji says simply. “I had no reason to believe you didn’t know what I was, and thought that you’d … react poorly to my trying to leave.”

“But - but I wouldn’t,” Zoro insists, mildly embarrassed by the plaintive note in his voice. “I let you stay here and did whatever I could to make you comfortable. I let you rearrange my entire house, my life! Why didn’t you ever think to question that?”

“Because I thought you were buttering me up for, you know,” Sanji replies, his face flushing. “I thought you were trying to manipulate me into giving you what you wanted with less of a fight. Admittedly,” he pauses, seemingly warring with himself, “I did think you were taking it a little far by the time the renovations started, but I also don’t know how humans work. I’ve hardly ever spent time with them.”

“Because you’re a mythical creature that lives in the ocean,” Zoro says, trying that one on for size. “For real.”

“For real,” Sanji confirms, even though Zoro hadn’t really been asking a question. “Or at least I was until I got stuck here.”

“Right,” Zoro says grimly, knowing immediately what he has to do. Sanji’s story might sound like so much malarkey, but if there’s even a scrap of truth to it then he’s committed a sin of the highest order, and there’s only one way to fix it.

Turning on his heel without another word, he marches into the bedroom and over to the trunk at the foot of the bed. Fishing out the key, he unlocks it in one swift movement and lifts the lid to reveal the patch of grey fur inside.

The pelt is just as soft to the touch as he remembers, and somehow even more beautiful when he pulls it free and shakes it out. He holds it aloft for a moment, eyeing it critically for any sign of damage, and then hurries back into the living area.

Sanji’s eyes go wide when he sees what Zoro’s holding, yet his hands remain at his sides, clenched into fists like he wants to reach out and touch but doesn’t dare. There’s no mistaking the desperate longing on his face, however, and it’s that more than anything that has Zoro stumbling forward to complete his quest.

“Here,” he says, thrusting the pelt towards the blond with a heavy dearth of finesse. “It’s not - I never meant to - ” He pauses, taking a deep breath before he tries again. “I had no idea what it was, and I never would have taken it if I had. You can have it back.”

Long pale hands lash out as Sanji doesn’t hesitate. He rips the pelt from Zoro’s grasp, his fingers digging into the fur as he clutches it to his chest and buries his face in it. His shoulders shake with the intensity of whatever emotion he’s feeling, and his eyes are bright, even if no tears are falling.

It’s this that spurs Zoro into the last thing he needs to say here. It’s a paltry acknowledgement in the wake of what he’s done, of the pain he’s so obviously caused, but it nevertheless needs to happen.

“For what it’s worth,” he says gruffly. “I’m sorry.”

Sanji’s head jerks up at that, and if there had been any doubt remaining as to the truth of his story, now it vanishes. The emotion on his face is too raw to be faked, and Zoro swears that there’s something inhuman in his eyes now that he’s got the pelt back.

“You’re really returning it?” He whispers. “Just like that?”

Zoro shrugs, uncomfortable in the face of the other man’s gratitude. Gratitude he knows he doesn’t deserve. “Turns out it was never mine,” he says. “I’m just giving it back to the rightful owner.”

Bizarrely, Sanji looks away from him, but his gaze doesn’t return to the pelt in his arms. Instead it starts over to the kitchen area. “It was never about coercing me into something,” he murmurs half to himself. “You were just … being kind.”

“Well, I mean,” Zoro shrugs, trying to save face. “I was also hoping it’d make you stop complaining so much. You were kind of getting on my nerves.”

Sanji’s eyes flick back to him and then roll heavily to suggest he’s not buying what Zoro’s selling. “You were being kind,” he says, more firmly this time. “And I didn’t exactly return the favor.”

“You had no reason to,” Zoro’s quick to assure him. “Under the circumstances actually, you’d have had every right to try and kick my ass.”

Blue eyes narrow slightly, and this time Sanji snorts. “If I’d bothered to try and kick your ass, I would have succeeded. I just couldn’t take the chance that you’d hurt my pelt.”

And just like that, they’re back where they’d started. “I’m sorry,” Zoro says again, meaning it wholeheartedly. “I get why you didn’t tell me, but I need you to know, that’s if I’d had any idea what it was, I never would have touched it. That’s not the kind of thing I’m willing to steal.”

Sanji watches him in silence for several moments, but eventually he nods. “I can go home then?” He tries carefully. “And you won’t come after me? Or tell anyone else what I am?”

Abruptly hit with a wave of preemptive loneliness that he wouldn’t have expected, Zoro does his best to shake it off. “Of course you can go,” he says thickly. “And your secret’s safe with me. I swear.”

Sanji continues staring at him, but then his eyes drift down to the pelt and back again. He must make some kind of decision, though, because he nods and gives Zoro a faint grin.

“Thank you,” he says simply, and then he’s gone.

*****
Zoro has no idea what to tell his friends about Sanji’s abrupt disappearance, so in the end he just plays dumb. When Luffy reveals to everyone that Sanji wasn’t the person he’d meant to send their way, Zoro pretends to be just as confused as everybody else and claims that Sanji had run off without any explanation when Zoro had confronted him.

It seems to work for most of the others - although he doesn’t miss the speculative gleam in Robin’s eye, even as she keeps quiet - but Luffy clearly doesn’t buy it for a second. The younger man doesn’t say anything in the immediate aftermath, but rather brings it up a few days later.

They’re out at one of the piers, sitting with their legs dangling over a wharf as they stare at the water in front of them. Luffy has a fishing pole in hand, but Zoro doesn’t think he’s caught anything yet and hasn’t bothered to ask.

For his part he hadn’t bothered to bring his own gear along, well aware that he’d be too distracted by the sight of the water to bring in a haul. Instead he gazes out at the waves, unconsciously searching for signs of a body he has no reason to believe is out there.

“The water’s pretty today,” Luffy announces out of the blue. “Don’t you think?”

Zoro grunts, not really wanting to say anything. The water is pretty, he supposes, but at this point it’s more of a distraction than anything else.

“Jinbe loves the ocean,” Luffy says next. “He’s some kind of deep sea diver, and that was why I told him he should come out here before he came up with his different plan. I figured he’d like it better than most other options.”

“Do you know if Sanji likes the sea?”

Zoro takes a deep breath. “I don’t know anything about Sanji, remember?” He lies. “Whatever his deal was, he tricked me the same way he did everybody else.”

Luffy shifts in place next to him and when Zoro looks over he finds dark eyes watching him from under the brim of a battered straw hat. “You don’t really believe that,” the other man says knowingly. “And you know more than you’re pretending.”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Zoro asks, and Luffy shrugs, returning his attention to the water.

“If I was going to call you anything, it wouldn’t be a liar,” he tells the incoming waves.

“No?” Zoro asks, curious in spite of himself. “What would you call me then?”

Luffy shrugs. “Lonely, I think. Maybe even a little bit sad.”

And therein lay the reason why it was never a good idea to get into these kinds of conversations with Luffy. He had a way of getting right to the heart of a matter, whether you wanted him to or not, and he wasn’t afraid to be blunt about it.

Somehow more amused than anything, Zoro lets out a quiet huff. “What makes you say that?” He asks. “I think I’m pretty much the same as I was before you left.”

“You were lonely then too,” Luffy tells him, wrinkling his nose. “You’re just a different kind of lonely now, and this one’s worse.”

Zoro considers this. “So you figured out that I liked having Sanji around, huh? I guess I can’t say I’m surprised. You’ve always been good at spotting that kind of thing.”

“Maybe,” Luffy agrees, “but you make it really easy to see too. You wear your feelings all over your face.”

Zoro wrinkles his nose. “That sounds gross in a way I can’t quite put my finger on,” he says after a moment. “I don’t know why, but I’m almost positive the cook would call it unsanitary.”

Luffy lets out a laugh at this, but it quickly trails off into a forlorn sigh. “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to eat Sanji’s food,” he says, sounding genuinely remorseful. “Everyone who did said it was the best they ever tasted.”

“They weren’t wrong,” Zoro says, willing to admit as much aloud since Sanji isn’t here to hear him. “The guy knew his way around a kitchen.”

“I wonder who taught him.”

Truth be told, Zoro’s been wondering that as well. Unless selkies had somehow perfected the art of creating fire under water, Sanji must have been taught to cook by someone on land. It was just one more question in the riddle that made up the man.

“I don’t know the specifics,” Zoro says when it becomes obvious that Luffy’s waiting for further commentary. “I never thought to ask.”

Had never thought to ask and now would never get an answer. The odds of him ever seeing Sanji again are slim to none, with the selkie no doubt taking himself as far from the local shores as his fins could carry him. For all Zoro knows, he might be in a different country by now.

“It’s okay to miss him,” Luffy declares apropos of nothing. “And hey, maybe he’ll come back for a visit someday. I’m pretty sure he liked you too.”

Unable to help himself, Zoro scoffs. “Sorry, Luf,” he says, “but on that much we’re going to have to agree to disagree. Curls didn’t like me. Not in the least.”

Clearly undeterred, Luffy scoffs right back at him. “Of course he likes you,” he says dismissively. “What’s not to like?”

“Based on the many, many complaints he gave me while we were living together, I’m pretty sure the list is endless,” Zoro admits ruefully. “And while a lot of them were probably pretty minor points in the end, there was one big one that I doubt I’ll ever be able to make up for.”

“You won’t know until you try,” Luffy points out, but this time Zoro’s ready with a counter.

“I’d have to know where he was to do that,” he says. “And I haven’t got the faintest goddamned idea as to where that might be.”

“Aww,” Luffy whines. “That’s so stupid. Why didn’t you ask him where he was going when he left?”

Because I’d already kept him trapped in my house for a month, so asking for a forwarding address seemed like a bad idea.

Having no idea how to actually answer his friend’s question, Zoro shrugs instead. “Just didn’t think of it, I guess,” he says. “He left so fast I didn’t really get a chance to think about much.”

“Hmm, well it sounds like you two have unfinished business,” Luffy decides. “Hopefully he comes back to sort things out, and soon too. I want to meet him properly.”

Snickering, Zoro rolls his good eye. “You just want to con him into cooking for you,” he says, cuffing the other man over the back of the head affectionately.

“Duh,” Luffy says, and readjusts his hat.

*****
His talk with Luffy inexplicably helps some, but still doesn’t make him feel entirely like himself. Zoro’s gotten used to having Sanji underfoot at this point, and it’s hard to settle back into his old routines when everywhere he looks there’s some reminder of the other man.

Whether it’s the kitchen, the living area, or even the bedroom, Zoro sees signs of Sanji all over his house. As well, the same again can be said for when he goes into town or out fishing. Even if he can’t see him, he can easily imagine the selkie’s running commentary as he goes about his business, such that he finds himself opening his mouth to argue with him more than once.

His friends probably think he’s going crazy, and Zoro’s a little afraid of that himself. When you got down to it, he’d barely even known Sanji, and he’d always believed their time together was finite. There’s therefore no reason for him to be feeling as off kilter as he does.

He tells himself as much for what has to be at least the thousandth time when he goes to turn in on a particularly cold evening a few weeks after Sanji had left. There’s another storm ongoing, reminiscent of the one that had been brewing the night they’d argued, and Zoro tucks himself under the covers early to try and avoid the chill.

A stray thought about how it’d be nice to have Sanji’s pelt right now accompanies him as he falls asleep, and when he wakes up his first thought is that he’s dreamt that very thing. Unlike the previous evening, he’s toasty warm and there’s an added layer of familiar grey fur adorning his bed.

Positive that can’t be right, Zoro forces himself to sit up while at the same time rubbing the sleep out of his good eye. The pelt is still there when he opens it again, and he runs a finger through some of the silken strands in a further attempt to check if this is real or not.

The pelt is just as soft as ever, and it’s that more than anything that has Zoro rolling out of bed and climbing to his feet. Needing to know what’s happening here, he yanks his bedroom door open, whereupon he’s promptly assaulted by half a dozen mouthwatering smells.

“You let the pantry go to ruins, you oaf.” An acerbic voice announces in the wake of his arrival. “I had it stocked to the brim with all manner of decent produce and non perishables, and yet I had to scrounge down to the depths to find enough to make a meal worth eating. You should be ashamed of yourself for ruining all my hard work.”

Swallowing heavily, Zoro pads the rest of the way out of the bedroom, until he’s far enough that he can take in a sight he was sure he’d never see again - that of Sanji bustling away at the stove.

“Well?” Blue eyes flash when they catch sight of him, and Sanji jabs a spatula in the direction of his cupboard. “What are you waiting for? Go and get the dishes, will you? That table isn’t going to set itself.”

Not knowing what else to do, Zoro shuffles over to the indicated cupboard and reaches for the handle to pull it open. If he misses the first few times because he’s too busy struggling to look away from his visitor, that’s nobody’s business but his.

A quick look at the items Sanji has simmering on the stove and adorning the countertop is enough to tell Zoro what he needs to grab. Neither of them says a word as he ferries plates, cups, and cutlery back and forth, and they still keep quiet even after the food has made its way to the table.

Zoro groans as the first bite of breakfast lands on his tongue. He’s perfectly capable of preparing his own meals, and he’s done so diligently since he’s been on his own again. That doesn’t mean anything he makes can compare to Sanji’s creations, however, and it’s all he can do not to shovel the food into his mouth as fast as he can.

“God, has no one been feeding you since I left?” Sanji asks, his words in direction contrast to Zoro’s own thoughts. “Slow down before you choke and die.”

“ -hy?” Zoro asks around a mouthful of bacon. “S’not l’ke y’d miss me ‘f I did.”

“I’m both horrified and impressed by the fact that I was able to translate that,” Sanji replies, making a face from across the table. “Slow down, Mossball, or I’ll take the plate away.”

Zoro instinctively hunches over the plate to protect it, but he also has the decency to do as instructed. He stops shoving food into his mouth with quite so much force, and instead lets himself savour the taste while he has it.

The rest of the meal passes in silence, save for the clinking of glassware and scraping of cutlery. Then, once they’re both done, Zoro stands without a word and starts to clear the dishes away.

“I can - ” Sanji says, but Zoro shakes his head.

“Clean up was always more my role,” he says with a smile that he doubts reaches his eye. “Seems only fair when you’ve done all the cooking.”

Making a face that Zoro can’t at all parse out, Sanji huffs but nods his head in acquiescence. He lapses back into silence as the dishes are quickly carted away, and still minds his tongue when the kitchen sink begins to fill.

He must reach his limit, however, because once the water has been topped up and Zoro’s reaching for the scrubbing brush, he pushes his chair back and comes to join him at the counter.

“You wash and I’ll dry,” he suggests, picking up the closest towel and giving Zoro an expectant look.

Not seeing another option at this point, Zoro nods and shuffles over slightly to ensure there’s enough room at the counter for them both to work. They then proceed to do the dishes in companionable silence, neither of them uttering a word until the last spoon has been safely returned to its drawer.

Sanji wanders out of the kitchen then, making his way over to the sofa at a meandering pace. Meanwhile, Zoro pulls the stopper from the sink basin and watches as the water starts to decrease.

“So,” he says as the last drops swirl in a circle before spinning down the drain. “Are you going to tell me why you’re here, or should I start guessing?”

Dropping down onto the sofa now that he’s reached it, Sanji leans back against the cushions and crosses one elegantly long leg over the other. To a stranger he’d no doubt look like the picture of studied nonchalance, but Zoro can tell by the set of his shoulders that he’s nervous.

“We need to talk,” he says finally. “Unless you’re about to lie to my face and tell me that we don’t have unfinished business.”

Feeling suddenly defensive, Zoro crosses his arms over his chest protectively. “I don’t see how that would be a lie,” he says slowly. “You were only here because I didn’t give you a choice, and then I let you go. Sounds like any business we may have had is concluded.”

Huffing with exasperation, Sanji gives him one of his patented stink eyes. “Our business is not concluded,” he says firmly. And then. “I know you’re attracted to me.”

That’s the last thing Zoro had been expecting the other man to say, and he jerks so hard in surprise that he cracks his elbow on the edge of the counter. Hissing through his teeth, he rubs furiously at the spot, grateful for the distraction in a way since it gives him an excuse to look away from Sanji.

“Seriously?” He hears, his companion’s voice laced with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Did you just maim yourself to try and avoid having an adult conversation?”

“I didn’t do jack - !” Zoro starts, raising his head to glare across the room. In doing so he finds that Sanji’s moved, however, and he jerks a second time when pale fingers reach out to brush over his arm.

“Let me see it,” Sanji says softly, adjusting his grip so he can begin to pull the limb away from Zoro’s body. “God knows I can’t trust you to properly assess the damage.”

“It - it’s fine,” Zoro says, needing a moment to find his voice. “And anyway, it’s your fault for coming in here out of nowhere and saying stuff like that. What gives?”

Sanji shrugs, but doesn’t take his eyes away from the growing red spot on Zoro’s arm. It’s probably going to bruise. “I keep telling you, we need to talk.”

“About the fact that I think you’re hot?” Zoro says, pulling his arm free from that dangerously gentle touch. “Fine, whatever. It’s not like it was much of a secret, I guess. You’re gorgeous, you cook like a god, and your personality may be obnoxious but it’s my kind of obnoxious. So, what? You’re here to taunt me about what I can’t have?”

“You could have had it, though,” Sanji responds, his calmly spoken words in direct contrast to Zoro’s increasingly agitated ones. “The second you knew about my pelt, you could have taken everything you wanted and never thought twice about it.”

Scandalized, Zoro rears up to his full height. “No,” he hisses fervently. “I’d never.”

“I know,” Sanji replies evenly. “That’s why I’m here.”

Zoro blinks, pretty sure he’s getting whiplash from this conversation. “Come again?”

Taking a deep breath, Sanji steps back out of reach but otherwise doesn’t go far. One of his hands curls protectively around his midsection, while the other starts playing with the strands of hair that cover his right eye.

“When we were, for lack of a better word, living together, you would do things that were … kind,” he says stiltedly. “At the time I thought you were trying to bribe me into giving you what you wanted, but on occasion I would forget myself and almost fall for it. Then I would remember I was your prisoner and get angry at not only you but also myself for being naive.”

“ … okay.” Zoro says when Sanji pauses and seems to be waiting for a response. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sanji groans, tugging on the hair that’s now twisted around his fingers. “It means that I was attracted to you too, but told myself I couldn’t be because you had me under your thumb and nothing between us would ever be real.”

Zoro twitches, a spark of something starting to twitch in his chest. “But I didn’t want you to be under my thumb,” he says carefully. “And when I found out, I fixed it.”

“Yeah,” Sanji says, his face going soft. “You did. Hence why I’m here.”

“Your pelt this morning,” Zoro says tentatively. “That was a … peace offering?” He guesses, unsure as to whether or not he’s got that one right.

“More like a show of trust,” Sanji replies. “I don’t hate the idea of you being near it if I’m confident you’re not going to steal it.”

Zoro suspects Sanji’s actions might be more serious than that, but he doesn’t know enough about selkie culture to say for certain. Hell, he doesn’t know anything about selkie culture if he’s being honest.

With that thought comes another hot on its heels. “Am I allowed to see your seal form?”

Sanji blinks. “Marimo, I’m kind of offering you my heart here, or at least the possibility of trying to win it over. Could we maybe stay on track for the time being?”

“ … right. Yeah. Yeah, we could do that.” Pretty sure he’s blushing to the roots of his hair, Zoro tries to pretend like some other moron is standing in his kitchen getting easily distracted, as opposed to him. “That sounds like a good idea.”

Sanji laughs at him. There’s a definite hint of mockery in the sound, but also fondness as well. “You really are an idiot, aren’t you?” He says. “Just absolutely hopeless.”

“No,” Zoro disagrees. “But I’ve had a whirlwind of a morning and I kind of get the feeling that you’re not done turning my life on its head yet. Forgive me if I’m having a little trouble keeping up.”

Sanji’s amused smile takes on a slightly dangerous edge and he takes a careful step into Zoro’s personal space. “Is that so?” He asks. “And are you just going to sit back and let me do that?”

Zoro makes a show of thinking about it for a second, but then leans forward. “I was more so thinking I’d meet you half way.”

“You know, I think I like the sound of that,” Sanji says, right before their lips collide.