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Maybe, had Sanji been a different person, he wouldn't have read such stressing news at 5:30AM. But he's an athlete and his body is awake early whether it's volleyball season or not. Pre-season hasn't even started yet, but he's already back to his routine: wake up, stretch, work out. These first days are always the hardest, when he has to fight his body to get back into the groove — waking up early is one thing, but actually getting out bed and doing what he has to do is another entirely. And that is why he is checking his phone at an ungodly hour when he sees the email from his team's PR department:
EAST BLUE PANTHERS SIGN OUTSIDE HITTER RORONOA ZORO
If before, Sanji was barely awake, leaning against his kitchen counter and fighting to not go back to bed, now, he is fully alert, heart racing as he reads the press release the Panthers so kindly forwarded to all the players. It's all the same fluffy speech of hyping up Zoro's—to Sanji's despair, many—accomplishments and a quote by him that reads "Joining the Panthers was the obvious next step in my career, I'm excited to join the team and win the Red Line Cup." Sanji scoffs at his phone, knowing very well that has to be a quote crafted by Zoro's agent because the man never speaks much unless it's about his sword collection or to insult Sanji.
Sanji, who is now his teammate. He and Zoro are going to work together. The realization makes Sanji have to pull up a chair and sit down, head in his hands as he thinks about the implications of working with Zoro. He looks at the hour, 6:15AM, and decides to do a very reckless move: call his agent. The phone rings once, twice, three times before she picks up.
"Is there any reason why you're calling me this early?"
"Nami-san! Zoro? Roronoa Zoro? On my team?" Sanji is very conscious of how hysterical he sounds but he doesn't care. "How come no one told me?"
Nami groans and Sanji can picture her rolling out of bed in what he's sure is a very sexy outfit, walking out of the room so she won't wake Vivi up. "You're not the team's owner, Sanji," she says, "you're not even the captain anymore."
Her tone is not accusatory, not per se, but he can still hear the hints of disappointment in it. Being the captain means a lot more publicity, more interviews, and, consequently, more money for Nami. But Sanji had never been the right fit for the role, it had fallen on his lap after the previous captain had transferred to a North Blue team, and he had begrudgingly accepted the captaincy with the condition that he would pass it along as soon as a better suited player joined the team. When Ace joined the Panthers two seasons ago it had seemed like the best option to make him the captain, and every day Sanji is grateful that he accepted the role.
"Well, yes, I know, but you could have given me a heads up! Aren't you and Nico Robin friends?"
"We're in the same book club." Nami sighs. "I'm not looking into transfers for you this close to pre-season if that's what you want."
Sanji doesn't know what he wants. Going to another club would be taking the coward's way out, and he thinks Zoro would have a great time calling him out on it—the thought alone makes his blood boil—but the idea of sharing a locker room and playing with him makes Sanji's insides quiver.
"I just—the guy hates me!"
"Oh please, Zoro doesn't hate anyone. I don't think he has enough brain cells for that." Nami sighs again, but this time she sounds less annoyed. "Sanji, it will be fine. You're a great player, he is a great player, Ace is going to make sure you two behave. It will be fun! Isn't that what you like about volleyball, that it's fun?"
Lately, Sanji doesn't know what he likes about volleyball. Once upon a time, when he started, everything felt fresh and exciting, but now, some days he can barely find the energy to go to practice. He's still a great setter, no doubt about it, but somewhere along the way, volleyball has lost its spark to him and he doesn't know how to tell that to Nami or anyone else. So many people depend on him and his performance that the idea of disappointing them makes Sanji want to play until the day he simply drops dead in the middle of the court.
"I'm just saying, if he ruins my plays I will complain," he says at last, whiny in a way Nami sometimes finds endearing and sometimes eye roll inducing.
"You won't complain when you see him changing in the locker room, though." Nami's tone is malicious, and before Sanji can protest, she adds, "Now I'll go back to bed and to my wife, go work out or do whatever you do this early."
After Sanji apologizes for the freakout and hangs up, he still thinks about her words. Nami is right, he knows playing with Roronoa Zoro will be fun. And Sanji really won't complain when he sees Zoro changing. Because there are two things that are true: Sanji and Zoro are known to bicker. Their rivalry—can they truly be rivals if they don't play in the same position?—is something reporters like to bring up here and there. But, the biggest truth, the one Sanji has never told anyone, is that he has had a crush on Roronoa Zoro for the best part of ten years.
So, yes, Sanji is going to be teammates with his crush. A great way to start the season. What could possibly go wrong?
Sanji met Roronoa Zoro for the first time at a youth training camp.
He remembers the moment clearly; entering the gymnasium and taking it all in, the enormity of the moment. He, who had never expected to play beyond his high school team, there with other boys who were already playing in youth championships and even in professional teams. When he arrived, a few players were already practicing their spikes and he stayed to the side, watching as the coaches threw balls at the exact height each player needed.
And then it was his turn, the boy with green hair and a permanent scowl on his face. Sanji had heard of Zoro, of course—son of a famous fencing champion, prodigy and legend in the making—but he believed that most compliments to him were just to stroke his father's ego. There was no way a 15 year old could be that good.
He was wrong.
Awestruck, Sanji watched as Zoro soared through the air, his body arching in the best angle for a parallel that hit close to the line, a spot even experienced players would have a hard time blocking. Zoro stopped just short of the net, watching the spot where the ball had hit the ground and frowned. He wasn't happy. He had hit a nearly perfect shot and he still wasn't happy.
Zoro then turned to Sanji as if sensing his stare. Before Sanji could think of looking anywhere else or searching for a coach, Zoro walked towards him with purposeful steps.
"So you're the setter everyone is talking about," were the first words Zoro ever said to him. He eyed Sanji up and down and didn't look very impressed.
Something sparkled in Sanji's chest, an anger like he never knew before. He had never wanted to punch a person right after meeting them, but at that moment, he could have done it if he didn't think it would make him lose his spot at the camp.
"And you are…?" He asked, even though literally anyone who knew volleyball knew who Zoro was.
Zoro looked offended, his neck reddening instantly, making Sanji have to fight a smirk. "Roronoa Zoro." He didn't bow, nor did he offer his hand for a handshake. "Try not to look so scared when you play or they'll kick you out."
"I'm not scared!" Sanji yelled, even though he was very much scared. After all, his story with volleyball was not like Zoro's, who was destined to be an athlete, or like many of the boys there, who grew up loving sports. Sanji had been signed up to volleyball against his will, his father forcing him to choose a sport to get him out of the kitchen and to be among people his age.
He had been a quiet kid, running to hide behind Zeff's legs when other children approached him in the playground. At that time, Sanji saw all of them as possible bullies like his brothers had been, and the idea of trying to open up only to be beaten again scared him into tears. Only in the safety of the Baratie's kitchen, amid the adults, did his real personality come out. It was when he was running to grab ingredients, tasting recipes and fighting Zeff on the right amount of seasoning, did he feel like a real person.
But that was no life for a child, Zeff told him, hanging out with a bunch of adults who were more concerned with not burning meat than paying attention to him. Sanji needed to be with other kids, to play with people his age. Enter the volleyball training. One night, after the Baratie had closed, Zeff had shown him a bunch of club application forms from his school, given to him by a concerned teacher, and pointed a finger at Sanji, demanding him to pick one.
He had tried to argue in favor of maybe joining the cinema club, perhaps the art one, but the teacher had insisted that sports would be better for his development, and because Sanji just saw himself as staying with Zeff being conditional on him being a good boy, he chose volleyball. It had been as bad as he thought as he would be. The older boys still scared him, but for the first weeks, he did nothing but learn the fundamentals and learn the rules with the other boys his age.
It was only when they started trying to spike the balls for real that Sanji realized he didn't like that. His spikes were clunky and not strong enough, he couldn't send the ball in the right direction. Until his coach told him to try to play as a setter. There was nothing more his child self wanted than to be useful—after all, Judge Vinsmoke had taught him that if he was not useful he had no reason to live—and as a setter, he could be more useful than anyone else on the team. An attacker had to be particularly skilled to make the most out of bad tosses, but a setter could command the entire team, bring the best out of everyone. That was the moment when Sanji fell in love with volleyball.
Now, as he stared as Zoro, who was a skilled attacker, he was scared of not being good enough. What more could he bring out of a guy who already spiked like that? And Zoro was staring at him as if he could see any insecurity Sanji had ever had. Sanji would die before he let the guy use it against him.
"You're the one who should be scared of me," he said, voice angry. "What are you going to do when I give you a perfect toss and you can't hit the ball because you're so full of yourself, huh, Mosshead?"
"Who are you calling Mosshead, Eyebrow?" He asked, taking a step closer to Sanji.
Sanji didn't move. "You, obviously. But I guess you're so dumb that's all you took from what I said."
"I'm going to show you who's dumb!"
"I see you two are already friends."
They both turned to look at Rayleigh, who was looking at them with amusement. Zoro had the decency of looking embarrassed, but Sanji was too star-struck to say anything. After all, Silvers Rayleigh was a legend of the sport. Sanji had watched many of his old games, staring in awe at the plays he and Gol D. Roger did.
"No way me and this guy are friends," Zoro said, pointing at Sanji. "He won't last long here anyway."
Sanji turned to him, now fully red. "Shut up!"
Rayleigh only laughed, the sound echoing through the gymnasium. "I love the spirit of the youth." He then turned serious. "But enough of that. You." He pointed at Zoro. "Go back to your practice. And you," he said to Sanji. "Go stretch and warm up, setting practice is starting in ten."
They both nodded and before Zoro left, he gave Sanji one last disdainful look, making Sanji wish he could throw at least a punch, or a well aimed kick. At that moment he decided two things: one, that he hated Roronoa Zoro and two, that he would have a long career just to spite that stupid green haired freak. No way he would let that dumbass have the last word.
So, in a way, everything that happened in his life after that was only because Zoro had dared to anger Sanji. If before, Sanji would have made up an excuse and tried to stop playing volleyball, now that he had Zoro to compete with, there was no way Sanji would let him be right. He worked twice as hard, keeping up with everything Zoro did. If Zoro won the MVP award in a championship, then Sanji won best setter. If Zoro scored five aces in one game then Sanji had to push himself to score six in the next.
They didn't play together, and for most of the time, their paths didn't even overlap that much; Zoro played in the South Blue league, and they'd only meet during selected championships or charity games. Still, Sanji kept up with everything Zoro did, just to make sure he wasn't being left behind. There was no one Sanji paid that much attention to as he did Zoro.
Except Ace, that is.
If Zoro was all about power, Ace was grace. Known as Fire Fist ever since his first season at the young age of 17, Ace held a world record of fastest service ace at an impressive 135 kilometers per hour. Every time they played, Sanji watched him in awe; there was something about him, a beauty, a lightness, sheer happiness to be in a court, that Sanji wanted badly. He wanted to be like Ace. He wanted to be with Ace.
First, Sanji tried to pretend it was only envy. Ace was the star rookie, the one every journalist wanted to interview, the one every girl wanted to talk to. Then, Sanji told himself that it was just professional admiration. Ace was not only a good player, he was a role model; respectful of his seniors, always with words of encouragement for the younger ones, always knowing what to say. But the more Sanji looked at him, the more he knew his feelings weren't professional. He had a full crush on Portgas D. Ace.
They met again during another camp, and Sanji tried his best to look cool—at least when Zoro wasn't around and suddenly they were screaming at each other, that is. He did his best when playing with Ace, praising him when he scored a hard attack, or when he hit a service ace. When they played against each other, Sanji would do his best to block him, so much so that a fast attack nearly dislocated his finger. He wanted more than everything to play it cool, but all he could do was curl into himself, holding his hand.
"Sanji! Are you okay? I'm so sorry!" Ace crossed the net and stopped by his side, making Sanji's heart beat faster.
"Yeah, I'm cool," Sanji was able to say.
At the other side of the net, Zoro scoffed. "You're crying, Curly."
Sanji straightened up right away. "Shut up!"
"Maybe you should go see the doctor," Ace said. "I'll go with you."
For a moment Sanji wished that he had sprained his ankle just so Ace could carry him all the way to the doctor's office. He pictured himself in Ace's arms and blushed, ignoring Zoro's snorting. Why didn't he try to block Ace and see how that felt?
"I'll go with Sanji," Rayleigh said, coming from the sidelines. "The rest of you can continue."
Sanji tried not to look disappointed and followed Rayleigh to the doctor, watching as Ace looked at him with a look he couldn't understand. Maybe he was so concerned he would ask Sanji out later. Behind him, Zoro continued staring at Sanji with that sour look of his, but Sanji ignored him, determined not to ruin his own daydreams.
Thirty minutes and lots of ice packs later, Sanji returned to the court, finding a place to watch the receive practice in the sidelines. Zoro was very average at it, and seeing him focusing entirely on a simple dig was enough to lift Sanji's spirits. His focused face was funny, so different from his usual handsome, neutral expression.
"Are you feeling better?"
Sanji was so focused on Zoro that he didn't realize Ace was sitting by his side now. He eyed Sanji's bandaged fingers with such genuine concern that Sanji blushed all over again.
"Yeah, I'm fine, the doctor said it was just a strain. I can go back to practice tomorrow." Sanji smiled so Ace knew he was truly fine. More than fine now that they were talking.
"That's good, I was worried." Ace smiled and Sanji's heart did a little somersault in his chest. "Actually, I want to ask you something."
Oh, he was really going to ask Sanji out. Maybe seeing Sanji injured was the push Ace needed to realize his undying love for Sanji. He nodded, encouraging Ace to ask his question and preparing himself for it.
Ace looked at the sides to make sure no one was paying attention to their conversation. Then, he asked, "Do you know the doctor, Marco? Did he say anything about being married? Or having a partner?"
Sanji stared at him, unsure if he had heard it right. "The doctor?" Why was Ace asking about him? Still, because Sanji didn't want to leave him without an answer, he said: "Uh, I don't think so. Why?"
Ace blushed. Portgas D. Ace was blushing because of some doctor! "I kinda like him and I was thinking about asking him out when the camp ends."
Sanji opened and closed his mouth. Of course the guy he liked didn't like him back. How stupid he had been to think that Ace would like him. Well, at least he didn't like Zoro. How humiliating would that be. At the thought of Zoro and Ace together, Sanji felt something different, a fury that almost made him get up on spot. What a strange feeling.
"Ace, he's a hundred years old," Sanji said, just to distract himself from whatever had happened to his own heart seconds before.
Ace laughed, and Sanji stared at him. "He's thirty-nine, that's not old. Besides, I like experienced men." He shrugged. "I'm going to ask him out," he said it more to himself than to Sanji. If anything, Sanji had to admire his decisiveness. Then, he turned to Sanji. "You should ask him out, too."
"The doctor?"
Ace laughed again. "No, Sanji. Zoro. It's obvious you guys like each other."
Now, Sanji did get up. "What?" His yell was so loud that some of the players training turned to look at him, Zoro included. They stared at each other other and Sanji looked away, his cheeks heating. He sat down, heart beating fast again, but just because the idea of asking Zoro out was stupid. Ace was insane. "We don't—it's not—I hate that guy. You hear me? I hate him."
Ace nodded, trying his best not to smile. "Right, you hate him, sure." He snorted and got up. "I'll go there practice my receiving. Wish me luck later!"
Sanji watched him leave and took a deep breath, trying to calm down. It was bad enough that his crush had unknowingly rejected him, he had said the craziest thing Sanji had ever heard. No, he didn't like Zoro, and he was sure that Zoro also didn't like him. They were rivals, and that was all that they would ever be. Sanji watched Zoro do a perfect dig, smiling at his own progress, unaware of being watched, and smiled too. What a dumbass, to be happy about such a simple thing. As if sensing Sanji's eyes on him, Zoro looked up and they stared at each other for what seemed like a long time, until someone pushed Zoro back to the end of the line.
They were rivals, just that, Sanji told himself over the noise of his heart pounding against his chest.
Sanji wasn't sure when the word 'rivals' no longer felt sufficient enough to describe his relationship with Zoro, at least from his side.
He kept up with Zoro's career after they aged out of youth camps, and much to his despair, Zoro only got better. Sanji had to watch him win many collective and individual awards, and the tally he kept in his mind was dangerously shifting towards Zoro's side. And it wasn't for lack of trying on Sanji's part; he was on a good team, he was a good player, but—and it pained him to even admit it—he always felt himself exerting less than 100% when Zoro wasn't around.
Because when he was, Sanji always looked for him. If they were in the same tournament, Sanji would look for him to taunt him. If they were in the same awards ceremony, Sanji would look for him to make fun of his suit that would surely be a little crooked. If they were in the same event, Sanji would find Zoro and make some passive aggressive comment about his performance that season.
With his habit of always looking for Zoro to antagonize him, Sanji started to pay attention to the little things. The way Zoro threw his head back when he laughed, the way he blushed when praised by those he admired, how he would always scowl if someone brought up his father, but his features would soften when speaking about his sister. He noticed how Zoro was harder on himself than anyone else, and how he had his own way of cheering others up. Not only that, he was made captain of his team at the age of twenty-one, a feat Sanji had to watch in awe, unable to replicate.
And by the time he had noticed all those things, Sanji had to admit to himself that he liked the guy. Not as a player, or as a rival, but as a man. Being near Zoro was torture now, and Sanji cursed himself for falling into this trap, yet he did nothing to stop it. If anything, his crush only grew the better a player Zoro became and the more trophies he won. Even when he won the All Blue.
There was a part of Sanji that had hated him for it, truly hated him. Ever since he had begun playing, the All Blue had been his dream. A tournament made of the eight best teams in all four regions, the All Blue was perhaps the hardest volleyball tournament of them all. Sanji had pictured himself winning it countless times, and yet the closest he had gotten to it was a mere 7th place.
That year, he was determined to win, to make a name for himself. When he looked at the tournament table, he noticed that his and Zoro's teams were at opposite ends of the bracket, meaning they would only meet at an eventual final. That, Sanji told himself, was destiny. He would win against Zoro, and perhaps ask him out after the final, just to make his loss more palatable. Until he watched Zoro injure himself during a game, that is.
It was an ugly fall, Zoro rushing to the side to try and save a ball and falling over the staff's chairs and equipment. From his hotel room, Sanji watched with bated breath as the game stopped and members of the staff and players tried to help Zoro get up. And because he had spent the best part of the last years watching Zoro, he knew that was it, that the championship was over for him. Zoro's expression didn't change, but Sanji could see, even through the screen, the way he balled his fist, the crease that always formed on his forehead when he was trying to keep himself in check.
He remained in the tournament, attending games from the stands now. Sanji watched as he sat there, looking serious, and wished he could say anything. In that moment, he realized they didn't even have each other's phone numbers. Besides, what could he say? That he was sorry? That Zoro would come back better and more annoying than ever? Everything he thought of sounded reductive, not enough for the enormity of what an injury was in an athlete's life. Months of blood, sweat and tears ended in an instant.
Because the truth was that Sanji knew that volleyball meant everything to Zoro. That, unlike him, there was nothing else Zoro thought about. He was a man with a single goal: to be the best player in the world, and he would not rest until he reached it. He would never want to be coddled, or to hear any empty promises of future greatness.
And despite knowing all of this, knowing that he should be careful with what he said, all Sanji's big mouth was able to say the day he noticed Zoro sitting in the bleachers to watch his semi-final game was: "That sling looks good on you, Moss."
Zoro, who had been focusing on something on his phone, looked at Sanji with anger. "Shut up."
Sanji studied him, the way he clutched his phone, the vulnerability in his eyes. He was bracing himself for pity, but Sanji would never do it. He admired Zoro too much to pity him. "Tough luck, your team had a small chance to beat us with you. But now that you're out, they're done."
Zoro relaxed visibly, assuming his usual cocky stance. He was sprawled on his chair, legs open. There was a guardrail separating his first row from the court area, and for a terrible moment Sanji wanted to jump it and sit on Zoro's lap. Instead, he took a step back into the safety of the court, lest his body act on its own.
"You're not winning the tournament," Zoro said, confident. "You'll be lucky if you win this game."
Sanji scoffed. "We're going to win, don't worry." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Try not to cry when I lift that trophy in three days, okay?"
Zoro opened his legs even more, never one to know manners. "Focus on your shitty block instead of me, Curly."
"My block is not shitty!"
Sanji didn't even bother to say goodbye, he would show Zoro how good of a blocker he was. And then, once they won that semi-final, he would win the final over Zoro's team and shut him up once for all.
He lost.
His team went all the way to the final, and Sanji watched, powerless, as Zoro's team destroyed their defense and block, rendering their strategy useless. A 3×0 loss was humiliating, but seeing Zoro's smile at the final was even worse. And yet, when they met after the game at some stupid ceremony Sanji didn't want to attend, but was forced to due to sportsmanship, he didn't gloat.
They watched as other players won awards and remained in silence as everyone around them got up from their seats to dance. To Sanji, that felt like torture, but he couldn't imagine how that felt to Zoro. He had won a medal too, since he did play the first three games, but he didn't look happy, or even content.
"Well," Sanji said as he leaned against a wall next to Zoro, both watching the other players mingle. "Go ahead, brag."
Zoro gave him a puzzled look. "This one doesn't count. I didn't play." Sanji didn't know what to say to that, so he didn't say anything. "I'll win it next year, you better be here to congratulate me, Curly."
Sanji looked at him, eyes wide. It was the first time Zoro acknowledged their rivalry, and in that moment, he realized that it meant something to Zoro, that Zoro too was pushing himself to do his best because of it. Sanji wanted to reach out and hold his hand, to tell him that he was the reason Sanji did that, that volleyball only meant something to him when Zoro played it too. It was their connection, as fleeting as it was, and Sanji treasured it.
But the words wouldn't come out, he didn't know how to explain how much that meant to him. How much Zoro meant to him. So instead, he said:
"You better be here to congratulate me, Moss." He smirked, projecting a confidence he didn't quite have, but for Zoro, he would muster it. "Because I'm winning it."
Zoro offered him a smirk of his own. "Bring it on."
And yet, that never happened.
For four years consecutively, Sanji had gone to the All Blue to watch other teams win. Every loss was another heavy weight on his soul, another tally to his long list of doubts. Watching Zoro win it again, this time as the MVP of the tournament, was both satisfying and torturing. Sanji had pictured the two of them in the finals again, staring at each other through the net and trading jabs when their team scored.
Watching Zoro touch his medal with so much reverence was mesmerizing, and Sanji wished he was there to congratulate him. And yet, a part of him was dwelling in self-hatred, for seeing other people achieve his dreams, for being mediocre. But mostly, because his own dream felt like an echo, a shadow of what he had wanted before. It wasn't a difference in skill or competence that separated him and Zoro, but a difference in will. Zoro, it seemed, had a will made of steel, and Sanji? Sanji didn't know what he wanted.
When Zoro signed with an East Blue team, Sanji felt a thrill like never before; the idea of playing against him more often, the idea of seeing Zoro outside of work was enough to make his heart race. It was no surprise that that was Sanji's better season, for the idea of appearing mediocre while Zoro watched him was enough to push Sanji to his limits.
The stress of facing Zoro on a game that would define the first place of the East Blue league was enough to make Sanji hide his cigarette packet inside his training uniform and sneak out of the court for a quick smoke. He picked up smoking because it was an easy out, something Zeff and his coach would scold him for that would mask the real problem he refused to address.
It was a beautiful night, the weather nice. And, as Sanji looked for a place where he could hide, he found Zoro sitting against the gymnasium wall, phone in hand.
"Smoking now?" Zoro asked, not looking away from his phone. Sanji shouldn't be surprised that he was noticed so easily, Zoro had spatial awareness better than most. "Will you be able to jump high enough to block me with those lungs?"
"You say it as if you spike that high." Sanji decided that since he had already been spotted, he might as well smoke his cigarette. He sat some distance away from Zoro, enough that the smoke wouldn't disturb him. Not that Sanji cared, but it was best to stay away, lest Zoro also had some superior hearing and could hear his heart beating faster. "What are you doing here? Talking to your girlfriend?"
All those years and Sanji hadn't heard much about Zoro's life outside of volleyball. He knew of Zoro's father, as everyone else, and of his sister, who apparently worked in costume design. He knew that Zoro was friends with Ace's brother, Luffy, and sometimes they'd go out together. But he had never heard a word about Zoro's love life. Did he have a girlfriend? A boyfriend? Was he into blondes?
Zoro looked at him, unimpressed at his obvious attempt at fishing for information. "No, this was the only time my contact had to talk to me."
Sanji stopped his cigarette halfway to his mouth. "Your contact? As in… your drugs contact?" He asked, shocked. "I knew those muscles couldn't be natural," he whispered more to himself.
Zoro snorted. "No, idiot. My swords contact." When Sanji looked at him puzzled, Zoro sighed. "I collect swords." His voice was low and he looked away. The night was not dark enough that Sanji couldn't see the blush on his cheeks.
"You collect swords?" He chuckled, and when Zoro turned to him, angry, he raised his hands. "Sorry, I didn't think someone like you would have such a nerdy hobby, that's all."
"What? Swords are cool." Zoro looked adorable when he was embarrassed. "Don't you cook?"
Sanji exhaled. He should have known that just like how he had kept tabs on Zoro, Zoro too knew about him. Still, the idea of Zoro willingly looking up things about him made Sanji's stomach twist. "Well, yeah. It's just something I learned with my old man." If he closed his eyes, he could see it perfectly, the first time Zeff allowed him to hold a knife, guiding his hands and teaching Sanji how to properly cut vegetables. To Zeff, maybe it was nothing. To Sanji, that moment was everything. "But we're not talking about me, we're talking about you. Why were you talking to your swords guy?"
"Because I'm looking for a specific sword, but I can't find it." Zoro had that sparkle in his eyes, the glint of someone who was holding himself back so as to not info dump about his special interest. Sanji had no idea he could look cute, but he liked that side of his.
"Well, are you going to tell me what it is?"
Zoro looked at him with wariness, but then showed Sanji his phone. On the screen, there was a picture of a black sword, red details giving it a rather scary aura. Sanji didn't know anything about swords, but it was a beautiful piece, and he knew Zoro would look good wielding it.
"It's called Shusui, and it's one of the 21 Great Grade swords—that is, very special swords." Zoro's voice was completely different than the usual. There was a reverence to it, an awe that Sanji had never heard before. For a brief but insane moment, he was actually jealous of the damn sword. "This one belonged to a legendary samurai called Shimotsuki Ryuma, who the legend said killed a dragon with it. He was my ancestor. What? I'm serious." He added when he noticed Sanji's raised eyebrow. "It's somewhere in Wano Country, and I plan on going there during the off season to find it."
Sanji studied him, the seriousness in Zoro's voice and expression. But that was not the only thing, there was fear, too. And, he realized with shock, Zoro was scared of Sanji laughing of him, of Sanji not taking him seriously. He was showing a part of himself that he didn't show to anyone—or else Sanji would have heard of it, the volleyball world loved to gossip—and now he feared, and perhaps expected Sanji to find it ridiculous. Sanji put his hand away so Zoro wouldn't see how he was trembling. Zoro had shared something fragile with him, and Sanji wanted to hold that secret with the utmost care.
"I hope you find it, Marimo." He smiled, honest. And he counted it as a personal win when Zoro looked away, blushing. "You're going to be busy during the off season, then." He added, pensive. He had hoped that Zoro would stick around and they could… what? Hang out? They were not friends. "So will I, by the way. I'll help at my old man's restaurant."
"The Baratie, I know." When Sanji looked surprised, Zoro snorted. "Our team ate there last week. Good food."
"Obviously. Zeff is annoying as fuck, but his food is delicious." It was best to deflect and not talk about his role in the restaurant, or his own food. Because, unlike Zoro, that wasn't just a hobby to him. And if Sanji thought too much about it, he would have to smoke the whole pack.
"So you got that from him." Zoro got up, stretching. Sanji watched the long line of his body, the muscles on his legs and arms. He took another drag of his cigarette to distract himself. "I'm going, it's almost time for the game." He looked back at Sanji. "I'm going to win."
"You wish." He waved his cigarette. "I'll finish this. See you inside."
Zoro waved as he left, and Sanji stayed there, feeling both happy and unsatisfied. They had shared something in that moment, a precious thing that he didn't know how to define. But still, it wasn't enough. Now that he had that moment with Zoro, he wanted so much more, and he knew that he only way to get it was getting there and playing volleyball at the highest level he could.
That night, when his team won, Sanji looked at Zoro and winked, laughing when he flipped him off. Maybe, he thought, it wasn't so bad to continue playing. If anything, just to see how handsome Zoro looked when Sanji did jump high enough to block him.
As the years passed, Sanji learned to live with the burden of a secret.
He buried his crush on Zoro deep in his heart, masked it with the insults and the taunts, if anything, due to his own cowardice. If he never talked to Zoro about it, if he never even thought about it too much, things would be fine. The delicate balance they lived in would continue. After all, it was easier for him to believe that they wouldn't have any chance than to let himself dwell on what ifs. From the moment they first met, Zoro only saw him as a rival and never gave him any indication of liking him or anyone else. There was no point in humiliating himself with a confession when their professional relationship was good enough. But that was not the secret he carried, not really.
His secret, and his shame, was that Sanji felt so much happier during the off season when he helped at the Baratie. When he was twenty, Zeff surprised Sanji by enrolling him in summer cooking classes with Shakky, a renowned chef in the Red Line, and that had been the best off season of his life. Both because Shakky was gorgeous and the class was filled with beautiful women, and because nothing made Sanji happier than cooking. During those days, safely away from the volleyball world, he could admit that truth to himself—his heart had never truly belonged with the sport.
Still, when the day came, Sanji went back home and back to practice. A part of him, the smart part, knew that if he admitted to his cooking passion to Zeff, he would accept it. Of course he would, for no one, not even Sanji, loved cooking more than Zeff. But the bigger part of him, the one that probably had never healed after his early childhood, was scared of what it all meant: to admit that he had spent so much time doing something he didn't love, that he wasted away his best years and now it was too late to start over, that he never enjoyed the life track Zeff had wanted him to. How could he let his father down like that? He simply couldn't.
And that was when things circled back to Zoro, as they always seemed to do with Sanji. Because abandoning volleyball meant abandoning the bond they had, meant leaving Zoro behind. Had they been friends, Sanji would have had an easier time. But they were just two guys who enjoyed playing against each other—or Sanji sincerely hoped Zoro enjoyed playing against him—and once one of them retired, it would be over.
Every time Sanji entertained the idea of retiring earlier, he thought of that first time he saw Zoro in the youth camp. That beautiful image of Zoro flying in the air never left his mind, because in that short moment, Sanji had truly loved volleyball. If not because he was a player, then because it seemed to make Zoro the happiest person in the world. And Sanji wanted more than anything to bask in that happiness, to be part of it, even if for a moment.
So, after learning of Zoro's transferring to his team, Sanji decided that he could live with his secret, at least a little more. Maybe Zoro would make things fun for him again, maybe he would forget his doubts and focus on playing again. Maybe, Sanji thought late at night, when he couldn't sleep, he would find the courage to do something about his crush and unburden himself of at least this secret.
The first practice of the year comes way too fast. Sanji doesn't even have the time to prepare himself mentally to see Zoro before having to actually do it. It's one thing to see Zoro only when watching his games, or when they play against each other. But it's something completely different to see him there, in Sanji's space, with Sanji's teammates, knowing that it's their new normal. Zoro, who looks incredibly good in the white training uniform. Sanji can't even imagine how handsome he will look in the black and gold Panthers uniform. He wants to run away and never find out.
Instead, he walks over to where Zoro is standing besides Ace, who, as a good captain, is making sure to integrate him into the team. As he approaches, Zoro turns to look at him and they stare at each other. It goes for too long—or maybe Sanji is just nervous—and it's only broken when Zoro gives him an once over that makes Sanji shiver.
"Curly."
"Moss."
Ace is looking at them with an amused expression, the rest of the team apparently expecting them to start punching each other. But Sanji would never, he is a professional. Besides, he would rather kiss Zoro instead.
"Well, you two already know each other, of course." Ace's cheerful tone sounds out of the place amidst the tension. "I expect you two to do amazing plays together."
Zoro snorts. "If he can keep up with me, that is."
"Huh? I think you mean if you can keep up with me." Sanji would never let Zoro's insult slide, but it still stings. Because he, unlike the others, has the courage to say what anyone who understands volleyball can see: Sanji has been kinda phoning it in for a while.
But not anymore, not with Roronoa Zoro there. No matter how much Sanji may be at odds with the sport right now, he will die before he lets Zoro call him mediocre. He will push himself to his limits if he has to, he will find his form again, as there is no way Sanji is letting Zoro win whatever stupid competition they might have.
Zoro evaluates him again and his gaze makes Sanji's skin prickle. He is like a predator assessing its prey, picking apart any weakness he sees on Sanji that he will explore for his own enjoyment. And the thing is, Sanji might enjoy that too. Sanji is a level headed man, he can admit that Zoro does push him to be better, even if it's out of spite. His ideas of confessing to Zoro and freeing himself of this crush leave his mind the second Sanji looks at him. If Zoro ever rejected him, Sanji would be forced to leave volleyball altogether, not because of his own lack of enthusiasm, but due to the embarrassment.
"That won't be a problem." When he speaks, Zoro has a smug expression that is both infuriating and sexy.
Sanji wants to say something to that, to end their little conversation winning, however, Rayleigh, who has been coaching the Panthers for the past five seasons—around the same time Sanji joined the team—chooses this moment to enter the locker room and from there they're all back in professional mode. It's good to be back, Sanji thinks, to the one place he truly belongs. Never mind his dreams of being in the Baratie's kitchen with Zeff. As Sanji takes a deep breath and smells the—quite disgusting, actually—combination of plastic, sweat and salonpas, he knows he could never be anywhere else.
As they start going through the usual check-ups and warm ups, he can see the season they'll have: as painful as it is to admit, their left side was weak during the past season. But now, with Zoro, they're a well balanced team that can win championships and make all the way to the All Blue at the end of the year.
If Sanji can focus on playing instead of ogling Zoro, that is.
He schools himself to not look too much, but Zoro's beauty goes beyond his physical appearance: as they practice sets and spikes, Sanji watches him fly through the air, his body in perfect position, the plasticity of the movement a beauty in itself. Just because he can, Sanji tosses him harder balls, sometimes too close to the net, sometimes too high. Zoro excels in most of them without even breaking a sweat, it's as if they're old teammates reuniting after the break, and not two people who have never played together.
"Sanji, Zoro, I'm loving the chemistry already, but let's try easier balls, Sanji, please. We're just warming up here," Rayleigh calls from the side of the court.
"Sorry!" Sanji doesn't even try to sound apologetic. As he looks at Zoro, he smirks. "You're done once we practice for real, Mosshead."
Zoro only scoffs. Instead of asking for a towel or using his sleeves to wipe the sweat of his forehead like a normal person would do, he uses the hem of his shirt instead, giving Sanji a view of his abs, but Sanji looks away because he won't fall for cheap tricks.
"Bring it on, Curly," is all he says before walking away to back of the line.
The first team practice of the season is supposed to be an easy one: Rayleigh splits them in two teams and rotates the players through them to test different combinations. As expected, Sanji and Zoro, as two undisputed starters, begin on the same team. Once again, Sanji starts with the harder balls, tossing them close to the net, where he knows Zoro has a harder time hitting them—he has studied Zoro's play style before, but he has done this with most prominent players, that doesn't mean anything—and he doesn't complain a single time. Sanji finds his determination to prove himself both admirable and irritating.
Once they're placed in different teams, their competition changes: Zoro explores Sanji's block at any chance he gets, aiming for his fingertips, making sure that Sanji has to jump higher to keep up with Izou, their middle blocker. In turn, Sanji tosses balls to spikes he knows Zoro will have a hard time defending when he's in the back. He and Ace have perfect chemistry, and with Usopp, their starter libero on their team, Sanji always gets A passes. By the time Rayleigh ends their practice, Sanji is drenched in sweat, trying to catch his breath as he realizes that Zoro and him pushed the whole team into their crazy pace. But, as he looks at his teammates, no one seems to complain.
As they make their way to the locker room, Sanji and Zoro walk together. "Not bad, Moss. For practice, that is," Sanji says, but only because he knows Zoro hates when he tries to be the bigger person.
Zoro rolls his eyes. "Shut up, Curly." A drop of sweat slides down his neck and Sanji watches it with interest, his mouth watering for some ungodly reason. Zoro's next words make him pay attention to the conversation again. "Keep tossing me balls close to the net."
"You want me to keep giving you your worst balls?" Sanji asks. "Why?"
But he knows the answer before Zoro can say it. He knows because he too is a volleyball player, as uninspired as he feels at the moment. Zoro looks at Sanji as if he's stupid. "Because I'm not going to be the best if I don't improve, and I won't stop until that happens."
Sanji looks at Zoro, and the sheer determination in his eyes is scary. Zoro means it, he can see it clearly; he won't stop until he is the best, he will push himself until he achieves his goals. Sanji can help him or get out of the way. At that moment, Sanji admires him, for Zoro has the kind of drive one would have as a rookie. And it's not because he's in a new team, Sanji knows. He has been watching Zoro play for years, he has always been like this. What a pain in the ass he will be.
If Sanji was a better person he would say something inspiring like "Count on me, partner!" or "You don't even have to ask", but he is not, so what he says instead is: "You should be working on your shitty reception instead."
That makes Zoro's face turn red, in embarrassment or anger or a mix of both, Sanji doesn't know. He says through gritted teeth, "Shut the fuck up or I'll beat your ass, pretty boy."
He must mean it as an insult, but being called pretty by Zoro still makes Sanji's heart race. What a stupid moment for his brain to remember his crush. But all he does is bat his eyelashes and say, "Not very nice of you to want to beat a senior who is trying to give you advice, Marimo."
It's only when Zoro takes a step closer to him that Sanji realizes they're standing in front of the locker room instead of entering it. "Senior? We're the same age and started playing in the same year, Eyebrow."
Zoro is too close and Sanji can't focus, not when they're looking eye to eye. Sanji tries to think of something to say, but he has to use all his brain capacity to not look down at Zoro's mouth. Making his crush obvious on day one is not part of his plans.
Thankfully, before he can embarrass himself Ace comes out of the locker room. "Hey you two, no fighting on the first day of practice." He has his serious captain voice, and even though it's Zoro's first day there, he too notices it, stepping away from Sanji. Ace smiles at this. "Great, now come on, let's change and go back home to rest."
Zoro gives Sanji one last look that is far too satisfied and enter the locker room. And because Sanji does not want to look at him naked, at least not unprepared, he calls for Ace to discuss some plays, knowing his captain won't turn him down.
What a pain in the ass Zoro will be, indeed.
When Sanji arrives for practice a week later, he finds all of his teammates huddled in the locker room. It's not an unusual sight, as they usually check for league news and results all together, acting like a giant beast with many limbs. But there's a different energy to it by the way they hoot and laugh, and by the fact that Zoro is standing more to the side, trying his best not to blush.
"Sanji, come check this out," Usopp calls when he sees that Sanji arrived. "Zoro is in a magazine."
On his way to his locker Sanji looks at Zoro, raising his eyebrow. "Is that so? Another interview?" He asks towards the others. It's not out of the ordinary that famous players like Zoro are interviewed by sports magazines from time to time. It would make sense now, with his team change.
It's Ace who replies, "Oh no, it's something even better."
Curious, Sanji approaches his colleagues and Ace passes him the magazine. Instantly, Sanji realizes that he just walked into his personal nightmare; for this isn't better than an interview, it's much, much worse. On the glossy pages of the magazines are not normal pictures of Zoro in his uniform and in the middle of a game. No, he is in an ad. An underwear ad at the look of it.
In one picture, he's wearing jeans and a jacket, the muscles on his torso exposed as he reclines back on the white backdrop, the also white hem of his underwear in perfect contrast with his tan skin. His face sports the usual serious expression he always has, looking at the camera in an almost lazy way, as if he couldn't wait to get it done. In the other, Zoro is wearing a white tank top and black underwear, one of his long legs stretched, the other bent. Sanji's head hurts just by looking at it, at the size of his thighs, the bulge on his underwear—shouldn't they edit that out for an ad campaign?—and his smug expression. Sanji has never seen a sexier man.
As Sanji tries to make his way out of this ninth circle of hell, his teammates continue teasing Zoro about it. "Didn't know you also wanted to be a model, Zoro," Sachi, their second libero says. Then, he turns to the others. "There's even a billboard in the city."
"Shut up." Zoro doesn't make eye contact with anyone. "Robin said the pay would be good."
"Right, and swords aren't cheap." Usopp nods sagely. From what Sanji heard, he also hangs out with Zoro and Luffy.
"Sanji," Ace calls him, bringing Sanji back from his lust induced mental breakdown. "Are you okay? Your nose is—" he points towards Sanji's nose.
And Sanji realizes, to his utmost despair, that his nose is bleeding. He closes the magazine, pushing it towards Ace. "Ah, this is—" he makes a gesture with his hand, the other already on his nose. "The weather is so dry today, I really shouldn't have driven with the car windows down." He lets out a laugh that sounds more like a small animal dying. "I'm going to take care of it."
Zoro continues looking away, his teammates look at him as if Sanji has gone mad and Ace looks at him with a very knowing expression that Sanji hates. Still, his captain puts the damn magazine away, clapping his hands twice.
"Alright everyone, this was fun, but let's not keep Rayleigh-san waiting," he says, full of authority. "Let's go. And Sanji, once you take care of your little problem, you can join us."
Sanji decides to ignore the way Ace winks at him as he escorts the rest of the team out of the locker room.
Sanji spends the rest of their practice avoiding any eye contact with Zoro, lest he remember the cursed pictures and his nose bleeds again. When they're in the middle of practice it's easy to focus on volleyball; Sanji practices his serves until his arms are tingling. Then he moves to the group practice, focusing on his tosses together with Penguin, their second setter. In these moments, laughing around with the others as they plan plays, he feels his best. Without the pressure of an official game, he quite enjoys volleyball. Later, they all sit with Rayleigh and his assistants to watch a game by their next opponent, listening as Rayleigh explains their weaknesses and strengths.
By the time Sanji arrives home, he has almost forgotten about the pictures. Almost.
He still goes on with his evening by taking a shower, making dinner and calling Zeff to hear his complaints about whatever thing he thinks isn't good enough in the restaurant. It's only when he's already in bed that Sanji allows himself to grab his phone and search the words Roronoa Zoro campaign.
It doesn't take long for him to find the pictures—volleyball fans are very diligent in keeping up with their careers, after all. And, to his horror, the pictures in the magazine were not the only ones. There are pictures of Zoro just in underwear, leaning against a wall, hips jutting forward. A picture of him wearing a white shirt with his underwear, pulling it slightly up. There is even a video of the behind the scenes that Sanji watches almost in a trance way too many times.
He tries his best to not touch himself, pretends that he is just admiring the pictures from a purely aesthetic perspective. But his body is burning and his dick is hard and Sanji is only a man. Pushing the shame of jerking off to a teammate aside, he opens his nightstand drawer and gets his lube. As he pulls his pants down, Sanji continues looking at the pictures, imagining how it must feel to touch Zoro's muscles, how soft his skin must be.
He has to put the phone away to open the lube bottle and put something on his hand, and when he touches himself, Sanji sighs in relief. Looking at the picture of Zoro with his leg stretched, Sanji pictures himself on top of him, sitting on his lap. He imagines Zoro's strong hands on his waist, holding him in place. Would he look at Sanji with that same serious expression? Would he blush as Sanji rode him?
Sanji doesn't even need to look at the pictures anymore, his imagination can do the rest as he moves his hand in lazy strokes. Would Zoro be the vocal type? He's a man of few words, even when telling Sanji what type of toss he wants. But oh, what if he liked to tell Sanji what he wanted in bed? What if he called Sanji names, if he told Sanji to beg for it? Sanji would, he knows he would.
The Zoro of his imagination would press him against the mattress and fuck him fast just to prove he can and Sanji would let him do it. He can see himself under Zoro, eyes closed, begging for more, more, more—
Sanji comes all over his hand with a long moan, Zoro's name escaping his lips after in a whisper. He reaches over to his nightstand once again to grab tissues and clean himself. After, he keeps his eyes very open, lest he will get turned on again, thinking about what he had just done. He has liked Zoro for so long and never had he done something like this. When Sanji wanted to have sex, he'd find a cute girl or boy and hook up with them, his focus on his partner the whole time. And yet, this was the best orgasm he had in months. He groans, covering his eyes with his forearm.
It's not going to be an easy season, not at all.
"Yo Sanji, you're on Zoro duty today," Ace tells him as soon as he sees Sanji in the parking lot.
Sanji, who is just grabbing his bag from the passenger's seat, has half the mind to tell his captain that actually, he's feeling sick so he'll go back home. But of course, he won't do that, not when the team is going on a trip to play the first match of the East Blue league playoffs. So he nods and catches up to Ace, going to the gymnasium with him, dreading how his day will be like.
Over the years, Sanji heard rumors about how Zoro would always end up lost, somehow managing to take the wrong turn even when walking in a straight line. But Sanji rarely saw him outside of games and events, so he thought people were just blowing things out of proportion. Now that Zoro plays for the Panthers he knows that no, they were not. Zoro is a lost cause. So, to not waste anyone's time looking for him, the team came up with a buddy system that consists in one of them always sticking to Zoro's side to make sure he doesn't disappear. Sanji had very expertly avoided doing so during their away games, only sticking to Zoro when they played at home.
But now here he is, walking side by side with Zoro as the teams goes to the bus that will take on their seven hour trip to Loguetown. Sanji did his best to not make things awkward after the pictures, but he still can't look Zoro in the eye and not remember his own thoughts. So now he keeps his head down, looking at Zoro from the corner of his eye. The walk to the bus is a short one and they all made sure to let Zoro in the middle of their line, so all he has to do is follow along. And yet, when Sanji is not paying attention he somehow starts to walk away from the line, towards who knows where.
"Mosshead," Sanji calls, grabbing him by the back of his shirt to pull him back. "It's a straight line! How can you miss where the bus door is?"
Zoro rolls his eyes. "I didn't miss anything!"
When they board the bus, Sanji makes sure to let Zoro take the window seat. He doesn't know how, but he knows Zoro would find a way to get up and leave the bus if he was sitting in the corridor. The bus has enough seats that the whole team and the staff can spread around it, and Sanji is thankful, so no one will see how tense he is just by sitting close to Zoro.
The silence between them is not awkward, nor is it tense. If anything, Zoro seems at ease next to Sanji, reclining his seat and closing his eyes to sleep. As there is no one sitting directly across from them, Sanji takes his time admiring Zoro's beauty. He either spends too much time looking or Zoro is a fast sleeper, for the next thing he realizes is that Zoro is snoring, head bending to the side, hitting the window as the bus starts moving.
Protected by the lack of company, Sanji reclines his seat and slides down just enough so that he can gently move Zoro's head so it can rest on his shoulder. He doubts it's very comfortable, but it's better than hitting the glass all the way to Loguetown — Zoro is so deeply asleep he doesn't even move. Sanji would do this for any teammate, he tells himself. This is not due to a crush, but due to not wanting to see another person injured. Sanji thought that the proximity with Zoro would make his heart race, but strangely, he feels at peace, comfortable with the weight of his head on his shoulder. So much so that he too closes his eyes, falling asleep almost instantly.
When he wakes up later it's his head that is resting on Zoro's shoulder and his teammate has his head turned, looking out of the window. For a moment, Sanji thinks about moving, but he decides he quite likes this spot. So, with his heart now beating fast at the implication of Zoro too taking care of him, Sanji closes his eyes and goes back to sleep.
Their schedule is a tight one, and there is no time to rest once they arrive. After lunch, they have a tactical meeting, then practice all afternoon, followed by dinner. By the time they get to their hotel room, Sanji isn't even worried about sleeping in the same place as Zoro, for all he wants is to fall in bed and sleep. Just to be an asshole he watches as Zoro walks ahead of him in the hotel hall on the way to their room, trying to open two different doors before Sanji grabs him by his wrist, walking over to the right room.
"I knew where I was going!" Zoro complains as they enter.
Sanji snorts. "Right, keep telling yourself that." He rushes to the bathroom. "I'll take a shower first."
He can hear Zoro complaining behind him, but by then he has already closed the door, a satisfied smile on his lips. When he comes out, Zoro is waiting by the door, bumping his shoulder on his way inside. The shower did a good job of loosing his muscles, and as Sanji lies down, he realizes that Zoro is naked on the other side of that door. So far, he has done a good job of keeping his eyes away from Zoro's body in the locker room, always busy with his own clothes. But, Sanji thinks in horror, if Zoro comes out wearing just a towel or underwear, then what will he do?
When he hears the door open, Sanji grabs his phone, pretending to read his conversation with Zeff. But because this is reality and not Sanji's lustful fantasies, Zoro is already dressed in baggy sweatpants and a large shirt. He glances at Sanji, as if he can feel his relief and disappointment, and sits on his bed, band-aids in hands as he tries to bandage his fingertips. Sanji watches his laughable attempt at doing his right hand and sighs, getting up from his bed.
"Give me this." He sits in front of Zoro, grabbing a band-aid. Zoro's hands are large and calloused, short nails broken—with the power and speed he hits the balls it's no surprise his hands will end up injured. He carefully wraps a band-aid around Zoro's index finger, trying to ignore how warm his skin is.
Zoro watches him for a moment before saying, "You're good with your hands."
"I'm a setter," Sanji replies dismissively.
"And you cook." Zoro passes him another band-aid. "Ace said your cooking is good."
Sometimes, Sanji will cook for the team, to celebrate a win or to cheer them up after a loss. But the main tournament is still going and he hasn't had the chance to do it this season. He looks up at Zoro, studying him. "If you want to eat my food, just tell me, Marimo."
"I want to eat your food," Zoro says right away. When Sanji looks up at him, he shrugs. "You said I should say it, so."
The idea of Zoro eating his cooking makes Sanji quiver. What if he doesn't like it? Then, Sanji remembers that night years ago, when Zoro talked about his passion for his swords collection, and his worries melt away. Zoro showed a different part of himself with Sanji and he wants to do the same.
He finishes bandaging Zoro's pinkie and has to fight the urge to kiss it. "Fine. I'll cook for you when we win the league. But if you're a picky eater—"
"I'll eat whatever you cook," Zoro interrupts him.
For a moment, they stare at each other, not saying a word. Then, when Sanji realizes he's still holding Zoro's hand, he drops it and goes back to his bed, sliding under the covers.
"At least do something too. Win MVP." Sanji doesn't look at Zoro, embarrassed of whatever that moment between them was.
Zoro snorts. "And who else would win it? You?" He makes himself comfortable under his covers and Sanji fights the urge to throw a pillow at him. "I'll win it and then you'll have to make me dinner." Then, he looks away and Sanji notices the soft blush on his neck. "Just for me," he whispers. And it's only when he says this that Sanji understands what he meant this whole time.
Sanji's heart beats so fast he's worried Zoro will hear it. Maybe, if he didn't like Zoro so much, he would have the strength to tease, but he can't. He can't joke about this and risk Zoro going back on his words. He looks to the other side of the room, trembling hands hiding under the covers.
"Just for you," he whispers back, trying to calm his heart down, but knowing it's impossible. After all, how can he be calm when his crush just asked him out on a date?
The Baratie is a mix of smells and loud chatter as they sit for their victory dinner. Sanji would rather be somewhere alone with Zoro, cooking something exclusively for him, but tradition is tradition, and the Panthers do it every time they win a tournament. The league playoffs were hard, but their team chemistry has finally reached its peak. When they're on the court, Sanji can feel Zoro's presence more than just seeing him. It's usually the same with the other players too, but he always knows where Zoro is—no, that is not true—Sanji trusts that Zoro will be where he needs to be to spike. Sometimes he might be blocked or the ball defended, of course, it comes with the sport, but that trust brings Sanji peace like he never knew before. Zoro elevates his game, and Sanji likes him even more for it.
They all sit around the table, laughing and joking together, finally able to relax. Earlier, they had taken turns taking pictures with the cup and their medals, and Ace, always seeming to know everything, found a way to have Sanji and Zoro take one together. Now, when Sanji unlocks his phone, his gallery is always open, the picture is always there, proof that they're a hell of a team.
Late in the night, when most of his teammates are too drunk to notice, Sanji leaves their table, going to the restaurant's terrace. Up there, he looks at the city lights, enjoying the night breeze as he fishes for the cigarette pack he kept hidden in his pocket, leaning against the railing as he lights it up. For a moment, everything is fine. Sanji likes volleyball again in that awed, child-like way he did when he first started playing and he thinks everything will be fine, he will be fine.
"Still smoking?" A voice sounds behind him. "Does the coach know?"
"Are you going to snitch on me, Mosshead?" Sanji asks without even turning around.
Instead of answering, Zoro stops by his side, also leaning against the railing. He holds a beer bottle and Sanji watches the way his Adam apple bobs when he takes a sip. They stay in a comfortable silence for a moment, neither making an effort to break it. The comfort goes beyond being next to a teammate, it's the easiness of being with someone Sanji likes. But when Zoro turns to look at him, Sanji can see that he has a serious expression on his face, and knows that whatever he is about to say won't be something nice.
"Why are you not playing the best you can?"
Sanji scoffs. "Of course I am. You have to struggle to keep up with me." It's not true and they both know it. He takes another drag of his cigarette, buying himself time. "I don't know, I'm just tired."
Zoro studies him for a moment. "No, I've seen you play tired before, and that is not it." He confesses it so easily Sanji can't even be mad at him. Does Zoro understand the weight of those words? That he is giving Sanji confirmation that he has been watching him back? "Don't you want to win the All Blue?"
And there it is, the thing Sanji has been avoiding thinking about. After all, winning the East Blue league gives them a spot in the All Blue. Sanji had not thought about it because he wanted to spare himself the anxiety, but he knows he can't keep doing it, because soon the Panthers will be in the tournament, with or without him.
"Yeah, of course I want to win it," he replies with half-hearted words.
"Curly, are you scared?" Zoro asks, shocked. "You are." Then, he snorts. "Coward."
"I'm not a coward!" Sanji pushes his shoulder. "What do you know about it? You've won it before. You've won everything before! You don't know what it's like to want something so bad, you're scared you're never going to get it."
Zoro looks at him, angry now. "Of course I do." Sanji remembers that night years ago, Zoro's face as he spoke about his ancestor's sword. "I don't see why you're so scared. We're going to win, I came here just for that."
Sanji has to fight through his own guilt and remorse to pay attention to Zoro's words. "What do you mean you came here just for that?" He asks. "You didn't need to change teams just to win the All Blue." His previous team in West Blue was a strong, well balanced team, Zoro would have had a big chance at winning any tournament with them.
"Of course I needed to." Zoro doesn't look away as he speaks the next words. "I needed to if I wanted to win it with you since you refuse to leave before you do it."
Sanji stares at him in disbelief, heart racing. "What do you mean? You—" he wets his lips, now suddenly dry. "You wanted to win it with me?"
Zoro stays silent for a moment, just looking at him. "I wanted you to win it since it's obvious you've got one foot out the door." When Sanji opens his mouth to refute, Zoro raises a hand. "Curly, don't lie to me. I know you, I know your game, I know you don't want to be on the court anymore. But you probably can't admit that to yourself until you win that stupid fucking tournament, so."
Sanji is rendered speechless. Zoro watched him, this whole time. Their whole careers, Zoro paid so much attention to him that he could see through Sanji's facade when no one else could. And yet, instead of calling him out, Zoro changed teams, uprooted his whole life just to come to the Panthers, just to give Sanji what he had always wanted. Or rather, what he thought Sanji had always wanted.
"You're so fucking stupid, Mosshead," Sanji says before taking a step forward and pulling Zoro into a kiss.
At first, their teeth clink, and they have to pull away. The second attempt is softer, with Sanji cradling Zoro's cheek with his free hand, the other holding the cigarette away. He always imagined how it would be to kiss Zoro, but his imagination pales compared to reality. Zoro kisses him gently, taking control of the kiss, one hand around Sanji's waist to keep him close. His lips are soft and he doesn't hesitate in the way he moves them, tongue exploring Sanji's mouth with expertise.
When they pull away Sanji is a little breathless, which is both embarrassing and exhilarating. He looks at Zoro's flushed face and smiles. "We're going to win the All Blue together then."
Zoro grins. "Of course we are." He speaks like a man who has never had any doubt in his life.
And it's in this moment that Sanji realizes that he doesn't just like Zoro. No, Sanji is in love with him. Little by little, Zoro had made space in his mind and heart, giving Sanji no choice but to love him. And even if he had, Sanji would still choose him. Over All Blue, over volleyball, over cooking, over anything. The realization is so strong his body is warmer and Sanji leans to kiss Zoro again.
"Thank you, Mosshead."
Zoro leans to steal another kiss. "Thank me when we win it, Curly." He bites Sanji's bottom lip in a way that sends shivers down Sanji's spine. "And I still haven't gotten my dinner."
Sanji smiles. "Don't worry, I'll cook for you." Now and forever, if Zoro wants him to. Sanji doesn't say it, of course, it's still too early and they still have a tournament to win, after all.
Sanji never really imagined how Zoro's place would be, but he is pleased to see it's a small, homely apartment. The walls are painted a light gray and the whole living room is decorated with plants. There are framed pictures of Zoro with his father and sister at different events. In one, Zoro is holding a medal while his family surrounds him, while in the other, his sister is in the center, holding a diploma. Where he had expected at least some kind of mess, the place is tidy and clean, and Sanji has half a mind of teasing Zoro for it until he looks at the most distant wall of the living room and sees two swords hanging on the wall.
After giving Zoro a questioning look and receiving a nod in response, Sanji walks towards them, looking at them from a respectful distance. "Are those the only ones you own now?" If anything, Sanji expected the whole place to be full of swords.
"No, most of them are in my father's home. I have a room for them there." Zoro stops by his side. "I just keep the ones I like the most here." He points at the one with the red sheath. "That is Sandai Kitetsu. It's said to be cursed and that it will bring misfortune to whoever owns it. And that," he points at the other one, with a purple sheath. "That is Enma. It belonged to one of the best swordsmen in the world, and it was given to me by his daughter in Wano."
One night, when having dinner at Ace's place, Sanji heard about Zoro's travel to Wano from Luffy, who gladly answered all of his questions as long as he kept the food coming. He had to feign indifference when Luffy talked about how Hiyori, the keeper of the sword Zoro wanted, fell in love with Zoro and how she wanted him to stay there. My buddy, Yamato, said she was head over heels, Ace had said, looking at Sanji with an innocent expression that didn't fool him. She proposed to him on the spot, he said.
"I've heard that you are very popular in Wano, Mosshead. Getting marriage proposals and everything," Sanji says.
Zoro stares at him, unimpressed. "Are you jealous?"
"No, not at all," Sanji says, even though he was and still is very jealous. Back then, he had imagined what he would do if Zoro decided to move to Wano. Even now, the idea that someone else could come and steal Zoro away still angers him. But there is no one else in the apartment today, is there? Zoro didn't ask anyone else for a dinner. Sanji turns back to the swords. "Do you know how to use them?"
"I do. Why, want a demonstration, Curly?"
Sanji pictures Zoro wearing a kimono and holding a sword and blushes at how much he enjoys the idea. When Zoro notices, he snorts and Sanji kicks him on the shin. "Maybe later." He raises the bags he brought. "Now point me to your kitchen."
Zoro's kitchen is nowhere near as impressive as his. His utensils seem more decorative than practical, and when Sanji opens his fridge he notices many pre-made meals. Was Zoro surviving just on them? Sanji can't imagine going without the delicious taste of a home cooked meal, and sighs in both stress and disappointment. Romantic or not, he will have to feed Zoro now that he has seen the state he lives in, there is no way Sanji can let someone go through life without good food.
"You can go and do something else," Sanji says as he wraps the apron around his waist. "I don't like anyone in the kitchen when I'm cooking." In part because of his own insecurities, but mostly because any cook hates distractions when cooking.
"But I like the view." Zoro holds his waist from behind, then wrapping his arms around Sanji's body and rests his chin on his shoulder. Sanji freezes for a moment before relaxing into his embrace.
They never talked about the kiss or what that means, but, strangely, Sanji feels at ease. If this was anyone else, he would be thinking about what would happen next, or their feelings. But this is Zoro, and Sanji knows him, maybe better than anyone else. He only goes after things he truly wants with that iron will of his, and if he didn't want Sanji, he wouldn't have kissed him. No, Zoro is not the type of person who would play games with him, he has not a single malicious bone in his body.
Once Sanji has enjoyed their proximity enough, he elbows Zoro, not too strongly, just enough to make him move away. "Well, you can enjoy it later. Now get out so I don't distract myself."
Zoro kisses his cheek and leaves, not looking very happy with it. But oh well, Sanji thinks, he will forget all about it once he eats dinner. Sanji had tried to discreetly ask Usopp about Zoro's favorite food, but his friend had seen through his roundabout way of asking and sighed, saying that it was onigiri. But, while onigiri is good, Sanji still wanted to cook him a more substantial meal.
So he cooks meat, rice, curry and other side dishes he has learned over the years. As he does so, Sanji realizes that this is the first time he is cooking for someone he likes. He has cooked for the team, his friends and Nami, but never for a partner. And despite their lack of conversation, this is what he considers Zoro, his partner. On the court, and outside of it. The thought makes Sanji nearly cut his own finger, and he thinks of what Zeff would say, how much his father would yell at him for it. So, he pushes all other thoughts aside and focuses on the task at hand.
Later, when dinner is ready and they have set the table, Sanji watches as Zoro holds his fork, not bothering to make a show of cutting and eating the food. His expression is neutral, but Sanji sees the way his eyes widen in surprise, and this is how he knows Zoro has liked his food. Relief washes over him instantly and Sanji relaxes against his chair as he watches Zoro eat more, shoving food in his mouth the way he only does when he is starving after practice.
"Calm down, Marimo, you'll choke if you keep eating like that. The food won't disappear." Sanji can't hide who pleased he is at the sight. "I take it that you liked it, then."
Zoro swallows, taking a sip of the wine Sanji brought. They shouldn't be drinking, as they have practice early in the next morning, but Sanji guessed they'd be fine if they took just a few sips. Either way, Zoro has alcohol tolerance like no other, always the only one not to get drunk during team outings.
"It's alright." He barely finishes speaking and he's back to eating. "Are you going to eat or you'll just stare at me?"
Sanji rolls his eyes, almost teasing him back. But it's a good moment, and he doesn't want to ruin it with banter, so instead he shares a truth with Zoro. "I like watching other people eat my food."
Zoro looks at him and hums. "You really like this, don't you? Cooking?"
It's not the only thing Sanji likes. He likes being with Zoro, cooking for him. But that seems too vulnerable of a thing to say in the moment, so the answer Sanji settles on is: "Yeah, I like cooking, I like it a lot."
"Then why don't you do it for a living?"
Sanji could answer it in many different ways: because volleyball is what his father picked for him, because being a player is the only thing he has ever known, because he's scared of starting over. But how could he say that to Zoro, who has never known anything but his own convictions? How could Zoro understand him?
"Cook, if you want to do it, then just do it."
Sanji considers Zoro, at the determination in his expression. He looks down at his plate, whispering, "But what if I'm not good enough? What if it doesn't work out?"
"If it doesn't work out then it doesn't work out, but at least you tried. You're not a coward, so don't act like one."
Sanji fights off a smile. He never imagined he would get a pep talk from Roronoa Zoro, but here they are. "And you think you know me, Mosshead?"
"I know you better than anyone else."
Having the sentiment mirrored back to him makes Sanji's heart beat faster. Yes, he should have known. All these years and Zoro only had eyes for him. The knowledge of it makes Sanji both happy and smug. Zoro likes him out of everyone he could have.
He looks back at Zoro and lets himself smile. "And you won't miss me on the court?"
Zoro, who is busy serving himself more food, points at him with his fork. "With those average tosses? Not really."
Sanji balls a napkin and throws at him, hitting his shoulder. "Shut up, my tosses are not average and you know that! You're the one who can't spike close to the net!"
Zoro throws the napkin ball back at him. "I can!" Then, he starts eating again. "You won't be on the court, but you'll be here. If you have to leave then leave."
Sanji smiles. "Yeah, I'll be here."
Here, watching Zoro eat his food, Sanji realizes how silly he was to believe he had just a crush. Sanji is in love with Zoro, with his lack of direction, his commitment to being the best, his dedication to his craft, his boldness, his sheer determination. Sanji loves everything about him, even his annoying comebacks and his too straightforwardness.
He sits with the feeling, lets it fill his body. Unlike his experience with cooking, he isn't afraid of it. How could he, when Zoro gives him such a sense of security? On the court, no matter where Zoro is, Sanji knows he can toss and Zoro will find a way to spike it. And now he knows that their connection won't disappear when they leave it. The truth is that it's simply too big now to be defined by the time of a volleyball match.
"You called me cook," Sanji says, eyes wide at the memory.
They're washing the dishes now, such a domesticity that Sanji's heart is racing at it. He offered to do it, and Zoro said he should do it, it was only right, and they fought and pushed each other in front of the sink before they agreed on doing it together. Standing side by side in a comfortable silence was so peaceful that Sanji's mind started to wander back to their earlier conversation.
Zoro, who is drying off a plate, doesn't even look at him. "That's what you will be, so I'm just getting ahead of it."
He says it with so much certainty that Sanji could cry. "You're more romantic than I thought, Mosshead."
Zoro blushes, a beautiful red color on his neck and cheeks. Sanji wants to keep making it happen. "Shut up, Curly." He bumps his shoulder with Sanji's before putting the plate away. When he returns to his spot, he stares at Sanji. "First, we have to win the All Blue."
"We will." Sanji washes his hands before looking back at him. "I know we will."
For a moment, they look at each other in silence. Zoro's eyes are so beautiful, Sanji could stare at them forever. Whatever Zoro sees in Sanji's face makes him smile as he leans closer, and Sanji doesn't think twice before wrapping his arms around Zoro's shoulders, pulling him into a kiss. Unlike that time on the rooftop, Zoro maneuvers Sanji so he's leaning against the sink, their kiss turning heated, Sanji's breathing turning shallow as Zoro undoes the ties of his apron.
When Zoro starts kissing his neck, Sanji sighs. "We have practice tomorrow, remember?" He asks, angry at himself for being so responsible. But winning the All Blue won't be easy and they're about to enter an even stricter practice regime.
Zoro groans against his neck, but doesn't let go entirely. He pulls away, still helping Sanji out of the apron. "I can still suck your dick," he says, not an ounce of shame in his voice.
Sanji gasps. "I guess you can." He kisses Zoro again so he won't see the way Sanji is blushing, but when Zoro presses their bodies together he smirks against Sanji's lips when he feels the bulge in his pants. "Shut up!"
"It's been a while, huh?" Zoro slides a hand down his back and grabs his ass, squeezing it.
Sanji places his hands on his shoulders, pushing him down. "Get to it already!"
Zoro laughs, but still sinks to his knees in a fluid motion that makes Sanji swoon. He will remember this for the rest of his life. Kneeling closer to his crotch, Zoro looks up at him before opening Sanji's pants and pushing them down his legs, waiting for Sanji to move away and kick them to the side. Then, he grabs him by the hips and nuzzles against the front of his underwear, making Sanji focus extra hard on not having a nosebleed and not coming just from how hot the scene is.
He places a hand in Zoro's hair as he pushes his underwear down, not wasting a minute as he holds Sanji by his waist and wraps his lips around his cock, making him close his eyes and moan. Zoro was right, it has been a while, but mostly, Sanji has wanted Zoro for so long he's sure he won't last long. He brushes his fingers through Zoro's hair as he sucks him deeper, one hand going to his ass, squeezing it, pulling away to press his tongue against the slit.
Sanji's legs are trembling and he uses one hand to support himself on the sink as Zoro pulls away from his dick to lick the soft skin of his inner thighs, pressing his teeth against it without biting. He licks Sanji's balls, and as he goes back to his dick he uses his hand to spread Sanji's ass cheeks, one longer finger brushing against his taint, making Sanji grip his hair and moan.
He isn't even ashamed when he feels his legs start trembling as Zoro takes him into his mouth again. "Mosshead, I'm going to—" his words are cut by a groan as Zoro bobs his head faster, refusing to pull away. Sanji holds his hair and comes down his throat, and the fact that he's doing it to Zoro, to the man he has liked—loved—for so long only makes him tremble harder, throwing his head back and moaning.
When it gets too much, Sanji pushes Zoro away gently and he rests his forehead against Sanji's hip, kissing the skin there. Once he has recovered, he gets back up and looks at Sanji. "Good?"
"Oh, shut up!" Sanji chuckles, pulling him into a kiss, not caring that Zoro just swallowed his come. He slides a hand down Zoro's torso and to his pants, cupping him over them. "My turn."
He doesn't give Zoro a chance to be a gentleman and say he doesn't have to, because Sanji definitely does. He's been dreaming about this man for years, he won't let the opportunity to suck his dick pass. So he pushes Zoro to lean against the sink and gets to his knees, hands on his pants and underwear to push them down.
"That excited?" Zoro asks, smug.
"I'll bite your dick off if you keep talking." He touches Zoro's thighs and sighs. Oh, how much Sanji dreamed about them after seeing those goddamn pictures. He kisses the flesh and vows to leave bites marks all over them once the season is over.
He looks up at Zoro one more time before licking his dick from base to tip, enjoying how Zoro grips his hair. He enjoys Zoro's moan even more as he sucks his dick, hands on his thighs, paying attention to every reaction. It's been a while since Sanji did this too, and he can't help but feel competitive towards Zoro; it's not enough to pleasure him, Sanji needs to pleasure him more.
Sanji bobs his head slowly at first, then faster, one hand on Zoro's thigh and the other on his balls, touching them gently, making him tremble underneath him. Whatever Sanji thought this would be like, it's even better; Zoro's hand on his hair, the soft sound of Zoro's moans, the weight of Zoro's cock against his tongue, the taste of him on his lips. Sanji wants to taste every inch of him, learn everything about his body and make him come in different ways.
He pulls away and kisses the head, noticing how Zoro's breath hitches when he sees Sanji's lips swollen and covered in his pre-come. Zoro pushes his bangs away from his face and it's such a tender gesture in such a erotic moment that Sanji wants to get up and kiss him. But instead he kisses his dick instead, taking it into his mouth again.
Zoro grips his hair again and groans, and that is how Sanji knows that he is close. He moves his head faster and pulls away so that just the head is inside of his mouth, letting Zoro come all over his tongue. And because Sanji can't let Zoro be better at it than him, he swallows, licking his lips for good measure.
Then, he gets up, smirking at how Zoro is panting, his neck flushed. Oh, he is so beautiful. "Good?" He asks.
Zoro snorts and pulls him into a kiss, hands cupping his cheeks. "I'm going to fuck you so hard when we win the All Blue," he says against Sanji's lips.
A shiver runs down Sanji's spine and he smiles. "I'll hold you to that promise, Mosshead."
He truly can't wait for the tournament now.
Zeff's kitchen is every chef's dream: equipped with the latest appliances and always clean, it is Sanji's inspiration and the future he sees for himself. His best memories are of moments spent in this kitchen, of learning how to cut meat the right way, the birthday cakes him and Zeff would bake together, Zeff always pretending not to see when Sanji would lick the batter off his fingers. It was in this same kitchen where Zeff showed Sanji's brochures of club activities, it's also where they celebrated the signing of his first professional player contract.
And it's only because Sanji is here that he has the courage to do what he must. He brings the ingredients Zeff asked, making himself at home as soon as he's inside his father's small apartment across from Baratie. He looks at his pictures on the wall, and some of his medals shown in front of Zeff's own accomplishments, and his chest aches. Sanji always knew that this moment was coming, but still, it isn't easy.
"What are you doing?" Zeff calls from the kitchen. "Don't just stand there, come here."
Sanji rolls his eyes. "I'm coming!"
They are cooking a simple stew, and as Zeff moves around with practiced ease Sanji watches in awe. He knows of his privilege, to watch Zeff in his natural habitat, doing what he loves. More than watch, as his father throws an apron at him and tells him to chop the vegetables. They cook in comfortable silence, Zeff checking his technique from time to time, but not saying a thing—and Sanji takes it as a compliment, as the man always complains about something. It's what Sanji likes the most, these moments where they can be together in the kitchen. This, he thinks, it's what he dreamed of as a young child, of family, of love.
"Well, are you going to say what you have to say or will I have to beat it out of you?" Zeff doesn't take the eyes of pan in front of him as he asks.
"Like you could beat me without pulling a muscle, old man." Sanji finishes his chopping, placing the vegetables and knife down.
He has imagined this moment for years. Dreaded it too. The disappointment in Zeff's eyes when he says it, and even worse, the doubt that Sanji could ever be a good cook. Mostly, Sanji just doesn't want an argument. His relationship with his father has always been about bickering, and that is fun, but they have never argued seriously. Sanji was never the rebel type of child, and after he started his professional career they simply spent too much time apart to have anything to argue about.
For a moment, Sanji thinks about not saying a thing. He thinks about coming up with a lie, and going on with his life. He is almost at retirement age anyway, what are a few more years? But then, he thinks about how Zoro would gloat about his cowardice. Sanji can see it already, the little smirk on the corner of his mouth as he says I knew you didn't have it in you. Then, of course, the disappointment would follow. The smirk would disappear and he would look away. Sanji wouldn't be able to live with that, knowing he disappointed someone who has so much faith in him.
So he sighs and says, "I'm going to quit volleyball to become a chef."
There it is, he said it and he can't take it back. The words linger between them and the silence of the kitchen, Sanji looking at Zeff and him looking at his pan.
"Okay," he says at last. "Do what you want." His tone and expression are neutral and Sanji doesn't know what to think.
"Aren't you…" he can't even bring himself to say it.
"Sanji." Zeff looks at him. "You're thirty years old, you can do whatever you want with your life." Then, the hint of a smile graces his lips. "At least now I'll be able to leave Baratie to you when I retire."
Relief washes over Sanji in such a strong way that he has to lean against the sink. Of course Zeff would say something like that, of course he would be so nonchalant, what was he afraid of? In that moment, Sanji realizes he doesn't need Zeff to say affirmative words to him. I believe in you, I'm not disappointed, I love you, because Sanji knows it. He knows all of it. This man adopted him, gave him a new life, purpose. He supported Sanji through everything. He looks away, afraid that Zeff will see the emotion in his eyes. His father was never good with feelings, he wouldn't know how to deal with them.
"Wait." Sanji looks up at him, eyes wide. "What do you mean being able to leave the Baratie to me now. You weren't going to?"
Zeff shrugs. "I wouldn't leave it to someone who doesn't cook. But don't get any ideas, kid, I'm not retiring any time soon."
Sanji smiles. "I know, I still have a lot to learn. I've been looking into some classes, and once I'm done, maybe I can come work with you?"
"I'll see if we need a new busboy." Zeff goes back to his pan, focusing on the cooking. His father is a man of few words, but Sanji doesn't mind it. "Are you going to help me now that you said what you had to say?"
Sanji feels so light now he could float all the way to the sky. More than his own doubts, Zeff's reaction was what he feared the most. Now that it's dealt with he believes he can do it, he can become a chef. And, if he's lucky, he'll be half as talented as his father is. But that is not all he wants to talk about, no. Sanji has had an idea in mind for weeks now, and Zeff is the only one who can help him.
"Actually." He passes the vegetables to Zeff. "I need a favor." He notices how Zeff's raises an eyebrow. Sanji never asked for anything, but for now, he wants to be selfish and make a wish come true. "I need you to help me to get a sword."
They have three weeks between the last game of the league and the first game of All Blue, and they're all dedicated to practice and studying the other teams in the tournament. Rayleigh runs their practices like he's in the army, and by the end of the day, Sanji feels like he's been run over by a truck. In between improving their service, reception, block and pass precision, he barely has the time to kiss Zoro. They exchange glances during practice, and at the end of the day leave together, which makes it easier for their teammates to catch on. It has always been obvious how in love Sanji and Zoro are, his teammates say, and Sanji fights the blush creeping up his neck. When Usopp asks if they're officially dating, Sanji looks at Zoro, unsure of what to say.
Zoro, who had been bandaging two of his fingers together looks up at all of them as if they're stupid. "Of course we are," he says before going back to his task. And that is it, the way Sanji has the confirmation that Zoro is his.
Most nights, when Sanji drives Zoro back to his place, he will go up and cook dinner. After, they wash the dishes together and watch a movie, or an old volleyball match so they can point out weaknesses in possible opponents. As they do, Sanji rests his head on Zoro's chest as Zoro plays with his hair. If they still have enough energy, they make out until they're both panting, desperately pushing their pants down and touching each other with urgency. Still, most days, all they do is fall sleep on the couch and then drag each other back to bed when they wake up in the middle of the night. It's all going to be worth it, Sanji thinks, when they finally win the All Blue.
The first three games of the All Blue are hard, but not impossibly so. By now, their team has so much synergy that everything they do seems easy. They run all over the gymnasium to recover balls, they stretch their limbs to the maximum so the ball won't touch the floor, they trust each other to pass the ball to the other side even when they can't get a clean hit. And at the end of the night, when they're driven back to the hotel, they're all spent and nearly falling over each other as they go to their rooms, but oh so satisfied with the results.
They lose the first set of the semi-final, but not even this is enough to make Sanji doubt that they will be the winners. Zoro promised him a win, and Sanji trusts him to never break a promise. They win in a long 3×1 that leaves all of them so tired, they barely have the energy to celebrate after leaving the court. As they sit on the bus back to the hotel, Sanji rests his head on Zoro's shoulder and closes his eyes.
"Just one more game," he whispers.
Zoro hums. "One more." He's silent for a moment before he speaks again, "Your last one."
Sanji is glad for the privacy they're offered in the bus, sitting in the back, with all the other players and staff probably taking a nap. This way, he can hold Zoro's hand, feel their calloused fingers touching each other.
"Aren't you going to try to change my mind?" He asks in the darkness of the bus.
"Of course not." Zoro squeezes his hand. Sanji likes how they look together, as if they were made to be intertwined. "Have you talked to your agent?"
"Yeah, Nami-san wasn't very thrilled about me retiring." She had looked at Sanji with her most serious stare for a moment, but then her beautiful features had softened and she smiled. It's fine, I can represent a future celebrity chef too, she said. "But she understood me. My contract was up anyway, and I know the club would be up to renewing it, but now that we gave them the heads-up, they can start looking for a replacement for next season." He squeezes Zoro's hand. "You better not like him more than me."
Zoro snorts. "They better find someone as good as you."
This makes Sanji open his eyes and look at Zoro, but it's too dark to see much of his face. "You like me so much." Zoro opens his mouth to reply, but Sanji makes a shushing gesture and he remembers that they're in the bus. Then, Sanji moves forward, kissing his cheek. "You're a good player too, Mosshead."
It's Zoro's time to rest his head on Sanji's shoulder, and Sanji doesn't need to see him to know he's smiling as he says, "Yeah, I know."
By the time the final game comes, Sanji has never felt calmer.
When they arrive at the court for warm up, he looks around, taking in the atmosphere. There, he thinks about his first game as a professional player, years ago. When he tossed the ball for his first serve, his hands trembled so much it was a miracle he was able to put the ball on the other side of the net. But now, as he looks at the bright lights and hears the squeak of shoes against the ground, he feels at peace. As they go through their warm up and he practices his serves, he looks at Zoro, who looks at home in the middle of the court, and smiles. Yes, they will be fine.
It's not an easy game, as expected of a final. Their opponents, a team from South Blue, has a winning streak of twenty five games and an opposite hitter that spikes so hard and fast Sanji's hands burn after trying to block him. But they practiced and practiced and practiced some more for this exact situation, and Sanji trusts that their team has what it takes to win the game.
They lose the first set and win the second, and not for a moment does Sanji fall into despair. Ace, as their captain, makes sure that all of them stay focused on the game, forgetting the after. It's easy to start panicking when losing or imagining the trophy when winning, but volleyball is too dynamic of a sport for them to have time to daydream mid-match. One moment of hesitation, one mistake and the other team can easily turn around a five points difference.
When Rayleigh calls for a timeout during the third set he sits by Zoro's side, both focused on their coach's words. Sanji doesn't need to look at him to know he doesn't have any doubts in his body. No matter how the set is going for them, in his heart, Zoro knows they can turn it around. Before they go back, Zoro turns to him and doesn't say anything, but Sanji knows what he means: if you don't know what to do, toss the ball to me.
And that, Sanji does. No matter where he is, no matter what type of pass Sanji gets, he knows that when in doubt he can toss the ball to Zoro and he will find an opening. As always, watching him play is a privilege; Zoro is no longer just about power, but technique too. He knows when to choose the right angle and when to explore the block so they can have the ball again. That, Sanji knows, is the result of years of practice, study, and love. It's what he likes the most about being in the court with Zoro, to see someone doing what they love.
They win the third set and lose the fourth, and when they reach the tie-break both teams are exhausted. Playing on high level takes a toll on their bodies and the mistakes start to pile up, especially in the service. Strangely, Sanji still isn't worried. There is no even if we lose, I did my best in his mind, because he knows in his heart that they will win.
And it's then, when he walks to the back to serve, that Sanji realizes that he is happy. He is happy to be playing, to be part of such a good game with people he loves and respects, that, despite everything, volleyball does make him happy. He is not going back on his decision to retire, but he is happy to just be there. And after thinking that it's easy to find the energy to keep going and turn his serve into an ace. As the crowd cheers, Sanji runs to hug his teammates, feeling a hand on the top of his head and knowing without even looking that it's Zoro's. He looks at his Mosshead as he goes back for the second serve and the way Zoro smiles at him is enough to make him want to play forever.
Later, when he will watch highlights of the game, Sanji will hear all about how even the game was, and how both teams were leaving everything on the court. He will hear the announcers say it was a pleasure to watch them, and that either team could win. But, as they play, all Sanji can think about is that he is glad this is his last match, that there is no better way to say goodbye to volleyball, and it's all thanks to Zoro. So Sanji plays his best, pushes himself on every defense, every block, thinks every strategy through when doing his tosses.
When Ace scores the winning point to an astonishing 23×21 on the tie-break, Sanji is swept in a wave of hugs. It all happens so fast, the noise of the ball hitting the ground, the final whistle, the screams of the crowd and his teammates grabbing him by the arms that it's only moments later, after they have greeted the judges and the other team that Sanji realizes what is happening. He won. They won.
Once they have greeted their staff and the other team and are finally free to jump around and celebrate Sanji looks to the side and sees Zoro a few meters away, celebrating with Usopp. He doesn't think about anything, only runs to Zoro, nearly knocking him over when he pulls his boyfriend into a hug. But Zoro is strong enough to only stagger a few steps behind, wrapping his arms tightly around Sanji's waist.
"We won," Sanji says against his neck.
"I told you we would." They pull away to look at each other and Zoro smirks. "Happy now?"
Sanji smiles at him. "Mosshead, you have no idea." Then, because he can, and because that had been his secret fantasy for years, he pulls Zoro into a kiss right there in the middle of the court, where everyone is seeing them. He wants them to know that Zoro is his. Later, Sanji will see the videos, the edits, the countless comments of it was obvious. But in that moment, all he cares is to kiss Zoro and then smile at the dazed look on his face.
"Thank you," Sanji whispers against his lips.
Zoro smiles. "For what? I only play to win."
Sanji kisses him again. "Oh, I know that."
What follows is a blur of celebrations, interviews and a long party held at the hotel that goes deep into the night. Sanji has a vague memory of being given a medal and holding the trophy as they all pass it around, but so many things happen at the same time that it's impossible to register and remember all of them. He sees the happy smiles of his teammates, the tears in the corner of their eyes and knows how much this means to all of them. Their team hadn't won the All Blue in more than ten years. This isn't just his victory, but theirs.
By the time Zoro and him make it to his place, a day later, Sanji feels spent. The adrenaline of the game left him quick, but the elation of the celebration remained for a while, making him jittery on the bus back home and in the car ride after. But now, as Zoro presses him against the door as they kiss, he can finally relax.
They kiss slowly, touching each other softly, and as Zoro pulls him towards the bedroom, neither is under any illusion of doing much. Now that their goal was achieved, the fatigue is catching up to their bodies—they're not that young anymore, after all—and all they do is exchange lazy kisses as they take off their clothes. Once they're both in their underwear, they enter under the covers, hands roaming each other's skin, crotches touching in the promise of more later, once they've rested. Sanji is happy to just make himself comfortable next to Zoro and fall sleep listening to the soft sound of his breathing.
When he wakes up, they're both facing each other. Sanji stays still for a moment, admiring Zoro's sleeping form. He sleeps with his mouth open, earrings pressed against the mattress. Sanji brushes a hand through his hair gently, fingers touching his cheek. With a smile, he turns around to get up, but before he can do it, he feels a strong arm on his waist, pulling him close.
"Where are you going?" Zoro whispers against the back of his neck.
"Cook breakfast." Sanji doesn't know what time it is, but knows it can't be late. His internal clock will always wake up him early, no matter how tired he is.
Zoro nuzzles against his skin. "Later. Stay here."
Sanji can't fight that, nor does he want to. So he makes himself comfortable, closing his eyes again. "Just because you asked so nicely." Feeling Zoro's smile against his back is enough to want him to stay there for a long, long time.
When they finally get up, it's still morning, and Sanji cooks them breakfast while Zoro watches him. It's a nice, domestic moment that makes his heart flutter. If this is his future, Sanji has no problem with it. They eat their breakfast while checking their phones, reading messages from friends and family members, Zoro's sister—who like Zeff, was too busy with work to manage to go—sends him a voice message yelling about not telling about his boyfriend and Sanji blushes. The idea of meeting Zoro's family makes him tremble with apprehension and excitement.
As they finish their meal, Sanji gets up, taking out the dishes from the table. Zoro is about to get up to help him, but Sanji stops him with a hand on his shoulder. Once he's done, instead of returning to his seat, he sits on Zoro's lap. Zoro's hands go instantly to his waist, keeping him in place. Sometimes it scares Sanji, how natural it all is for them. There was no moment of awkwardness, no uncertainty. Then, of course, he remembers that they've known each other for a long time. In a way, they've been working towards this very moment since the day they first met.
"How long have you liked me?" Sanji asks.
Zoro blushes a lovely shade of pink, but he doesn't look away. "A while."
"Since we were teenagers?"
"No." He shakes his head. "I liked Ace back then."
Sanji throws his head back, laughing. Of course Zoro would also like Ace. In one way or another, they have always wanted the same things. "He dropped you for Marco too, eh?"
"Too?" Zoro raises an eyebrow. Then, he chuckles. "I guess he did."
Sanji smiles, giving him a peck on the lips. "But it's a good thing that he didn't like either of us, so we could be together."
"He would break up with you in a day. All of your nagging would annoy him." Zoro squeezes his waist lightly. "He wouldn't be able to handle you."
Sanji pinches his cheek. "You would annoy him." He smiles. "He wouldn't be able to handle you either. It's obvious that that is a task for me and me only." Zoro doesn't fall for his bait and instead pulls him into a kiss. When they part, Sanji gets up from his lap. "Wait here, I have something for you."
Zoro gives him a puzzled look, but nods as Sanji leaves the kitchen.
He has kept it safely hidden in his spare room, away from Zoro's prying eyes. He grabs the wooden box with care, walking slowly to the kitchen. As he stops behind Zoro, he says, "Close your eyes."
"Why?"
"Just do as I say!"
Zoro sighs to signal his irritation. "Fine, they're closed."
Sanji checks if he's telling the truth first, then places the wooden box on the table in front of him. "Okay, you can open then now."
Zoro opens his eyes, staring at the box. "What is this?" He asks, even if the shape of the box makes its contents obvious.
"Go ahead, open it." Sanji is smiling, even though he is nervous.
Zoro, who must have opened many boxes like this before, does it with care. Inside, a sword is placed upon velvet fabric. It's a thing of beauty, even more so in person than in the pictures Sanji saw of it. Both its sheath and handle are black, and the red details on the sheath are intricate and delicate, the obvious work of great craftsmanship and dedication. Sanji can't even begin to imagine how hard it must have been to make this sword.
Zoro's breath hitches as he looking at it, and as he reaches out to hold the sword, Sanji can see that his fingers are trembling slightly. He holds it with reverence, fingertips caressing the sheath as if to memorize the details. As he pulls the blade, it shines in the morning light, black as the night, the red details gorgeous. Sanji can see why Zoro would want it and why Kouzuki Hyori wouldn't want to give it away.
"Curly—" Zoro looks at him, eyes wide. "This is—"
"It's the real thing, 100% authentic," Sanji says, voice full of pride. It wasn't an easy feat, and more than once, Zeff's contact suggested that it would be easier to just steal it, or make a replica. But Sanji wanted Zoro to be able to say he owns the real one, and if he wanted a replica, he surely could have had one made.
In the end, all Sanji had needed was one meeting with Hyori, a trip he hid from Zoro with a little help with his teammates. Sanji had knelt in front of her and explained their story, and how important that sword was for Zoro. Hyori offered him a beautiful smile, her eyes watery and said in a small voice I can't say no to that.
Now, Sanji thanks her in his head as he watches the way Zoro looks at his ancestor's sword. It's as if he can't believe in his eyes, as if he looks away from the sword it will disappear. Finally, he manages to look at Sanji, face twisted in genuine awe. "How? Why?"
Sanji opens and closes his mouth. There are so many things he could say to that. Because you were my driving force through my entire life, because you joined the team just so my dream could come true, because you're annoying and selfless and I love you. But those words seem too strong and Sanji has never been good with talking about his feelings, so all he does is shrug.
"Just accept the damn gift," he says, looking away.
And because Zoro is who he is, he understands. There will come a time when Sanji will say all those things to him because he deserves to hear them, but in the moment he knows them just by looking at Sanji's face. He admires his sword one more time, fingertips caressing the side of the blade before he sheaths it again, placing it carefully inside the box.
Then, he gets up, pulling Sanji into a hug. "You're impossible," he says.
Sanji chuckles. "I know that." He pulls from the hug just enough to kiss Zoro. "You can thank me later."
Zoro picks him up easily, making Sanji wrap his legs around his waist. "Ah, but I want to thank you right now."
"I have no problem with that," Sanji says as Zoro starts walking towards the bedroom. "No problem at all."
When Zoro drops him on his bed, Sanji takes off his shirt, throwing it to the side. Watching Zoro take off his shirt makes him sigh, and as soon as Zoro is over him, kissing him again, Sanji is grabbing his pecs, squeezing them without an ounce of shame, sighing into his lips. They have both been very diligent about sex with practice, until their focus shifted to the All Blue. And while all the other things they did were amazing Sanji had still been dreaming about this, having Zoro all to himself when they're both rested and without any other commitments. He had been fantasizing about this moment, of being able to take their time with each other.
They kiss with no hurry, Zoro's hands everywhere on Sanji's body, going from his hair down his chest to his waist, pinning him against the mattress. Sanji also takes his time with touching him, discovering every place Zoro likes to be touched. He pulls away just so he can kiss Zoro's neck, biting the soft skin and knowing it will leave a mark. By the time Zoro goes back to practice it will have disappeared, but Sanji will enjoy looking at it, knowing that Zoro is his and no one else's.
Zoro pulls away so they can take off their pants and Sanji sighs again; Zoro is wearing the same underwear he did on the photoshoot and Sanji remembers the pictures and the effect they had on him. He touches its hem, all the fatasies he had that involved Zoro dressed exactly like this coming to the front of his mind once more. Zoro seems content in just kissing his neck and down his chest as Sanji plays with his underwear, touching him over it.
Then, as he's kissing up to his mouth again, Zoro looks at him with concern in his eyes. "Curly," he says. "Your nose is bleeding."
Sanji should have seen it coming. He had seen Zoro in his underwear before, he even sucked his dick, but the context was different. Now that he has declared his love to Zoro—albeit in a roundabout way—everything feels amplified, every touch and every kiss more powerful. So of course he would have a nosebleed, it's a miracle he hasn't had any before.
"It happens sometimes." Sanji reaches out to the nightstand to grab some tissues and press against his nose. "Don't worry, I'm fine."
"Didn't it happen that one time when—" Zoro looks at him with a puzzled expression and then, slowly, he connect the dots. Sanji can see it in his face when he understands it. "Wait. It wasn't the weather, it was me. You're having a nosebleed because you're so turned on by me."
Sanji presses the tissues harder against his nose, but his hand over his face does little to hide how he's blushing. "It's not like that," he says weakly.
Zoro pushes his hand away to press the tissues himself, doing it much gentler than Sanji was. "Was it the pictures?" He asks, smug. "Did you jerk off to them?" When Sanji doesn't answer, he cackles. "You did! You perverted cook!"
He moves his hand away to see if the bleeding has stopped and Sanji takes this as an opportunity to flip them on the bed, straddling Zoro. "Listen here, Mosshead, don't get all cocky."
Zoro crosses his hands under his head, looking at Sanji like a predator to a prey. "Or what? You're going to walk away?" He raises an eyebrow. Sanji can't even pretend he would, and Zoro smirks. "Come on, time to make all your perverted fantasies come true."
"I don't—" But he's interrupted when Zoro moves to the nightstand, grabbing the lube and tossing it to him. "You want me to do all the work?"
"You were the one who got us in this position, I thought you'd want to give me a show."
Sanji thinks about it for a moment, and while that would be very hot, it's not what he wants. So he gets up just to take off his underwear before rejoining Zoro on the bed, sitting by his side. "I already cooked you breakfast and gave you the sword you wanted, the least you can do is do something here."
Zoro raises an eyebrow again, but doesn't say anything. Instead, he moves, hands on Sanji's waist and flipping him so he's now laying on his belly. "I knew you'd be the submissive type." When Sanji opens his mouth to protest, Zoro straddles him, biting his shoulder. "Relax, Curly. I like it."
Sanji sighs again, this time in annoyance. He shouldn't find it hot, but he does. So he doesn't say anything and instead focuses on Zoro kissing down his back and gasps when Zoro bites his ass cheek. For all his rough behavior when playing, Zoro is careful when he raises Sanji's hips and holds one of his cheeks, opening him up. The thought of Zoro looking at him like this is so erotic to him that Sanji doesn't even feel embarrassed, moaning when Zoro presses one lubed finger to his hole.
He fingers Sanji slowly, pushing one then two fingers inside of him with care, paying attention to Sanji's reactions, kissing his back to distract him from the first uncomfortable moments. When Sanji is panting against the sheets, Zoro pushes three fingers into him, moving them faster, finding his prostate and making Sanji tremble.
He props Sanji on his knees and touches his cock with his other hand, humming in a satisfied tone when he touches the head, feeling how Sanji is leaking already. "Are you ready for me now, Cook?" He asks as he presses his fingers as deep as they'll go inside of Sanji.
Sanji presses a cheek against the pillow to look at Zoro. "You're enjoying this, aren't you, cocky bastard?" He asks, voice nearly cracking when Zoro moves his fingers. "Yeah, yeah I'm ready, come on, fuck me."
"I like it when you're whiny like this." Zoro pulls his fingers out and Sanji watches with bated breath as he lubes himself up, holding Sanji's hip with one hand and guiding himself with the other. He's careful in this moment too, moving slowly and paying attention for any discomfort Sanji can feel.
But Sanji has never been more comfortable in his life, and this slow speed won't do it for him. "Come on now, Mosshead, you can do better than that."
Zoro falls for his bait greatly, other hand going to Sanji's hip to push his cock all the way into Sanji in one thrust, making Sanji moan. "Pervert," he whispers as he starts moving faster, the strength of his thrusts making Sanji move against the mattress. "Is this what you wanted?"
Sanji can only nod against the pillow, feeling the way Zoro thrusts into him and gasping when he presses his chest against Sanji's back. "Yeah," he replies in an airy voice, all coherence left. "Yeah, that's it, Mosshead."
The one moment with the pictures aside, Sanji had tried very hard not to think of Zoro in this context. It didn't feel right to imagine a teammate sexually. But ever since they started dating, Sanji could only think about it, about how Zoro would feel inside of him, of how Zoro would act. And his imagination could never compete with the feeling of Zoro on top of him, moaning against ear as he fucks Sanji fast and hard.
"I'm close," Sanji whispers in between moans. "Mosshead, I'm—"
"No," Zoro interrupts him. He grinds his hips against Sanji in a way that makes them both moan. Then, he bites Sanji's shoulder again. "Say my name, Sanji."
Hearing his name like this makes Sanji gasp, half in surprise and half in lust. His name has never sounded better, he wants Zoro to repeat it again and again. As Zoro moves faster, Sanji moves his hand until he's touching his skin. The angle isn't the best, but he wants to touch his boyfriend.
"Zoro," he finally says, enjoying how the name fits in his mouth. "Zoro, come on, harder, I'm gonna come, Zoro, Zoro, Zoro, Zoro—"
The last word comes out mixed with a moan as Sanji feels Zoro coming inside of him, filling him up. He doesn't stop moving, sneaking one hand under them so he can jerk Sanji off. He just needs to move his hand once, twice, three times before Sanji is coming too, whispering Zoro's name as he does.
They stay like this for a moment, Zoro still inside of him as they catch their breaths. Zoro kisses the back of his neck as he pulls out and rolls to the side and Sanji doesn't even have the energy to move. Instead, he just turns his head to look at his boyfriend, basking on the way his chest, covered in sweat, rises and falls. Zoro catches him looking and smiles at him, holding eye contact as he takes his dirty fingers to his mouth, sucking Sanji's cum off them.
"Who's the pervert now?" Sanji asks, laughing, before Zoro takes his fingers to his mouth and makes him suck on them too. His dick twitches and Sanji sighs as Zoro pulls his fingers away, knowing they're nowhere done. He crawls until his head is resting on Zoro's chest, reaching his hand to play with his earrings. "You came when I said your name, my Mosshead is so romantic."
Zoro looks away, embarrassed. "Shut up," he says.
Sanji smiles, fingers going to Zoro's cheek to make him look at him again. "Zoro." The name comes easily to him now, and Sanji knows he will never get tired of saying it. "I—" he stops himself and then, because he has no doubt of it, he says it. "I love you."
Zoro doesn't look surprised, but he does look very happy. "I know." When Sanji keeps staring at him, he laughs. "I love you too, Sanji."
A warmth spreads through Sanji's body, a type of feeling that makes him want to get up and yell at the streets that Roronoa Zoro loves him. But all he does is smile and kiss Zoro again, hand going down his chest.
"Perverted cook," Zoro whispers against his lips as they kiss over and over again.
"Don't act like you don't like it." Sanji doesn't even pretend that he is touching Zoro just because. He has a very obvious goal in mind.
Zoro kisses him again and rolls them on the mattress so he's hovering over Sanji. "Don't worry, cook, we won't leave this bed today."
Sanji smiles, satisfied. "That's what I wanted to hear."
"Can you stare less? You're about to start drooling," Nami says, pretending to be annoyed. It half works, but Sanji can still see the smile on the corner of her mouth.
"Maybe I should stare at the two beautiful women at my side." Sanji looks at her and Robin, who only chuckles, before looking at the court again.
Sitting at the VIP section, as close as they can be to the players, Sanji can't help but look at Zoro. When he was still a player, he didn't get a chance to admire Zoro in his uniform the way he does now. Back then, Sanji was trying his best to focus on the game and not bring the whole team down because he had a crush. Now, however, he is there just as a guest and thus, he can ogle all he wants. Lately, he has had this fantasy of Zoro falling on his lap as he runs to recover a ball and he has chosen these seats thinking just about it.
Being on the court only as a member of the audience is strange, and a part of Sanji's heart aches with the desire to play. He knows that part will always be there, but it will never be big enough for him to listen to it. Volleyball may have been his first love, but it's not the most important thing for him now. Watching the game and seeing how hard Zoro and the others work, he knows he made the right choice. Zoro belongs in the court and Sanji belongs in the kitchen, where he can be truly happy.
The Panthers win the game, as Sanji knew they would—no Zoro falling on his lap, unfortunately—and he sits there, watching as Zoro does his duty as the most popular player and takes pictures with the people who actually paid to be there. Once he finishes with all the pictures and autographs, he walks straight to them.
"Nice game," Sanji says in a greeting. "And you only missed two serves in the whole match, I'm impressed."
Zoro rolls his eyes. "Rayleigh is going to make me practice serves all day tomorrow." Then, he smiles. "But I scored the most points, so does that mean I get my reward?"
"Hello? We're here too!" Nami gets up from her seat, standing close to Sanji.
"Nice game, Zoro." Robin smiles.
"Thanks." He turns to Sanji. "So?"
Sanji chuckles at how Nami is looking at them, daring them to say anything sexual right there in the open. "Don't worry, Nami-san. His reward is my world famous onigiri." He turns to Zoro. "I guess I did promise I'd make them for you, so." He shrugs.
Robin, who can see through the whole thing, chuckles. "Can we eat them too?"
"Of course!" Sanji takes her hand in his, kissing it. "I would never deny food to beautiful women." Seeing that Zoro is rolling his eyes, he smiles, pulling his boyfriend by his shirt to kiss his cheek. "Go on, Mosshead, you should be stretching."
Not happy with just a cheek kiss, Zoro kisses him on the mouth, much to Nami's protest – Sanji knows it's her time to her roll her eyes now. Then, when he's satisfied, he pulls away. "I'll see you at home."
Sanji smiles. "Yeah, I'll see you at home."
They'll do this many times in the future. Sanji will go to his games, and Zoro will try his new recipes. They'll live together and bicker over small things and kiss and support each other. Yes, Sanji thinks as he leaves the gymnasium, it will be a good season.