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Sanji was drunk.
And if you thought you knew just how much of a sap he was, you were probably wrong.
The thing was that when he was drunk, he didn't seem to remember the gender of people. He continued on about princesses and being their knight, just that, anyone could turn out to be the princess of his heart. He didn't forget the person themselves, just their gender. And it was terribly funny. He then went and declared his marriage with Brook, or cried when Usopp rejected him.
Until now, the only one who hasn't got wooed by their local Don Juan was Zoro, immunized by their constant bickering and rivalry, seeming stronger still than Sanji's will and desire to please and love absolutely everyone.
Zoro was somehow a little proud of this, if not secretly a little disappointed, too.
But today, the cook got one particularly foolish idea. It started raining in the middle of their party, forcing them to continue inside. But Sanji stood at the galley's doorstep, still in his lovesick reverie. He suddenly jumped, looking for the closest person to him, and declared they should definitely "kiss under this fateful and lovely rain". When Franky politely declined the offer, the poor guy stared teary eyed at the sky. He murmured about how much he always dreamt about it, imagining how it would feel.
Zoro said nothing. He'd already seen the blond, who were most of the time inside the galley even on sunny days, get out as soon as it was raining while everyone went in. Each time, he looked mesmerized by the monochromatic landscape. Standing face up, pleasantly letting the drops fall on him, the same as Nami would enjoy bathing in sunlight. Breathing the ocean in.
In those kind of moment, on the other side of the Sunny, Sanji knew Zoro stood under the same sky, meditating.
The memory hit him in his drunken haze.
He suddenly screamed the stupid nickname they both grew fond of.
"Marimo ! Let's kiss in the rain !"
Zoro hummed, before the information fully ascended his brain, and then proceeded to spit a mouthful of booze. What the fuck ?!
"What the fuck, shitty cook ?!?"
"I said-" Sanji started to lean on him, grabbing his arm to pull him back under the rainfall. "Let's kiss, here. I know you like the rain, too."
Zoro rolled his eyes. He was honored that he had thought of him for this, but the idiot was also still very drunk, and that was a no.
"You're drunk, cook."
"And you're beautiful, bastard."
He was yet again frozen at his words, getting dragged further into the rhythmic and constant flow of rain drops. They were already half drenched and cold.
But Sanji was laughing, and he could only feel warmth.
Sanji moved Zoro's arms to his shoulders, like setting some actors for a romantic scene. He placed his own lightly at the swordsman's waist.
"Now. Kiss me."
Zoro was still looking at him, not believing what was happening. He sighed finally. The idiot was brighter than the sun, no wonder why he liked the rain so much. The only thing Zoro ever wished, that he couldn't fight or train for, was being able to love him. To be able to shower him with his passion. And here he was, asking for a stupid kiss under the stupid rain, and it felt stupidly incredible.
If only he wasn't drunk.
"Kiss me or I'll kiss you." Sanji rushed him, pressing their forehead together, and Zoro just realized how close they were.
"Alright," he said hurriedly. He laid a hand on his chest to put some distance, but the blond didn't move an inch. His heart had a pleasant rhythm, far from the rapids going through Zoro's rib cage.
"...Alright," he repeated more calmly,
"close your eyes."
The cook threw him a suspicious look. "You kiss with your eyes open, curly ?" He received a grunt for the name, but Sanji conceded to close his eyes at last. He waited, and Zoro took some time to appreciate his features, unusually up close. The rain water seemed to caress each part of him lightly, leaving droplets looking like little pearls on his eyelashes. He didn't dare to drag any longer, or else he knew the love-moron would try to take the initiative.
Pinching his pale face, he turned the blond head to his left and pressed a ridiculous smooch on his cheek.
His face was still squished between the tanned hands, looking so dumbfounded that Zoro cracked a smile, letting a chuckle escape. Sanji blushed, and began to yell at him, more in embarrassment than anything.
Foolishly, Zoro found it cute.
He apologized half-heartlessly, still snickering. Sanji pouted, but couldn't help but to laugh, too. They were still in each other's arms, but still didn't feel like letting go anytime soon. Later, they'd probably blame it on the cold rain.
"Idiot," Zoro heard him say fondly. Before he could stop it, his laugh died on Sanji's lips. It was short, a chaste brush, far from a drunken folly.
"There. Kiss me like that, next time." He said, and continued to laugh softly.
Zoro has gone quiet, unable to think of anything else, but to feel that again. Like, right now. He leaned their foreheads back together, tempted his face just a bit on the side. Automatically, a pair of lips met his, leaving a longer memory this time. He registered the smile pressed against his, the arms reaching to tug him in a warmer embrace, and a storm stronger yet in his stomach.
He felt a slight shudder from the blond too, and softly resigned that his arms won't be anymore enough to protect the cook from the freezing weather. Reluctantly, he stopped Sanji's chasing lips.
"Let's get inside." He said, but kissed his cheek, because it felt right. The blond huffed softly, and he seemed drunk. But it was on something else than Zoro would think.
Sanji will have to make sure the idiot knew that.