Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Law doesn’t know why he agreed to this.

He doesn’t really do cruises. Floating hotels packed with strangers, artificial joy doled out in pre-scheduled time slots. It goes against every instinct he has. He’s the guy who overpacks for a lazy afternoon at the beach. He likes ground beneath his feet. He likes clean exits. Control. And the Sapphire Lux, with its forty bars, ten-story slide, and onboard zipline feels more like a floating mall on steroids than a vacation. A trap disguised as leisure.

But he’s here anyway, dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and sandals, ready to make the best of it.

As the ship comes into view, towering above the Miami cruise terminal like a monument, he has to admit it’s certainly impressive . The massive thing gleams in the Florida sun, polished chrome and pristine white like a billionaire’s fever dream of Atlantis. Immaculate balconies stack upward in geometric precision, tier after tier, like a wedding cake sliced with a ruler. Not a single smudge or line out of place. It’s unnervingly perfect. Every inch of it screams “manufactured escape,” where chaos is curated and sold.

He hates that it still kind of works on him.

There’s an energy in the air that he can’t quite shake. Excitement, nerves, a strong desire to apply sunscreen. People swarm around them as they make their way toward the terminal entrance, dragging neon suitcases and stopping mid-step to stage photos. Somewhere in the distance someone’s playing music on a Bluetooth speaker and it bleeds into the muggy air. 

It’s loud. Disorganized. Messy. Human. He can already feel the migraine setting in. These are not his people. 

“Traffy! Look, look! I think that’s the right place!” 

Law glances up to where his partner’s pointing, scowling when he reads the sign. “That says Carnival. We’re looking for Luxor Maritimes.” 

Luffy’s nose scrunches as he tilts his head. “Lunchbox Marines?”

“Forget it.”

“Okay!” 

It’s another five minutes of getting hit in the shin by Luffy’s duffel before they finally find the door they’re looking for. The terminal entrance is noticeably newer and more sophisticated than the others they walked past. A good sign, considering the small fortune he’s shilling for this grand getaway. As one of the most prestigious cruise lines around, Luxor doesn’t cut corners when it comes to quality or care. 

Which is exactly why he chose this specific ship for their vacation.

“Welcome, gentlemen,” a pretty stewardess greets as they enter through the sliding glass doors, the chill of AC hitting them full force the moment they step inside. “Please follow the pathway to check-in.”

Law simply nods in acknowledgment, beckoning Luffy to follow behind as they make their way through security and toward the desk.

“Oh, hell yeah! This is gonna be bitchin’!” Luffy shouts, his voice booming in the large check-in area. 

“It’ll certainly be something,” Law mutters in response. 

Fortunately, the line isn’t long and by the time they’ve completed the winding journey down the roped path, there’s an empty spot at the counter where a smiling man is already waiting to assist. 

The check-in process is seamless. Their reservation is reviewed, passports are scanned, a credit card is put on file for their room. Standard disclosures and signatures are completed. Before they know it, two small cards are pushed across the counter to them.

“These are your Lux Keys,” the steward explains, tapping a thick finger against the smooth surface of the white and sapphire cards. “They’re essential to your stay with us. Use them for cabin access, onboard purchases, meal check-ins, and don’t leave the ship without them.” 

“Sweet!” Luffy snatches one up and cradles it in his hands. “Hey, Law, look! It’s got my name on it!”

Law’s stomach knots the instant he sees the card swinging carefree between Luffy’s fingers. “Did you hear what he said?” he balks. “That has my credit card linked to it.”

“Yeah,” Luffy nods, beaming. 

“That means you can’t lose it.”

“I’ll try not to!”

“No,” Law manages through gritted teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Not try. Don’t. If you lose it, it could derail the entire trip.”

“Fine, fine!” Luffy cackles, giving Law’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Relax! I’ll guard it with my life.”

“You better,” Law mutters with a heavy sigh.

The last task of their onboarding is luggage check. Their bags are carefully searched, tagged, and loaded onto carts with promise to be delivered to their rooms. Law gives his suitcase a last, lingering look before Luffy links an arm with his and pulls him toward the signs directing them to board. 

“We’re gonna have so much fun,” Luffy babbles as they wander toward the gangway. “I’m gonna eat so much food! I wonder what Usopp’s doing? He better not be scoping out the buffet without me.” 

“I’m sure he is,” Law says with a sniff, gently tugging his arm from Luffy’s hold. He smirks at the wounded look sent to him at the mere suggestion of someone else enjoying a meal. “Don’t worry. Surely he’ll get another plate with you.”

“Damn straight! Oh, hey! Look! Let’s get our picture taken!”

It takes everything in Law to not audibly groan at the sight of the picture backdrop that Luffy’s pointing toward. A kitschy faux-beachscape with the Lux Maritimes logo printed across the back. The kind of thing intentionally placed to trick tourists into posing awkwardly and spending money on overexposed photos of the whole debacle. And, of course, his boyfriend’s the exact type of person to want to participate in such lunacy.

“Say cheese!”

Three photo opportunities, two screaming crowds, and a series of too-bright hallways later, they’re officially aboard the Sapphire Lux and Law feels his shoulders finally start to relax.

Luffy tilts his head, studying his phone. “Usopp says he’s somewhere called the A-zoo-lee? A-zull-ee?” 

“Azule,” Law corrects just as the crowd funnels them through a wide set of archways and into an area that makes him pause. 

The grand hallway unfolds before them in a sweep of polished white and blue, lit from all angles by recessed neon and vibrant LED. The Galleria, according to the nearby signs. It’s gaudy, excessive, and somehow still breathtaking. Dozens of boutiques and bars flank either side, their glass walls revealing showrooms filled with high-end watches, resort wear draped across posed mannequins, and shelves lined with duty-free cigars and liquor. A live musician plays somewhere unseen, the music floating above the buzz of the other passengers. 

Law scans the various entryways as they walk, grateful to have a few inches above Luffy as they weave through the horde. His brows lift when he catches sight of the Azule Lounge at the far end, its name glowing in aquamarine above a pair of open doors. He exhales, patting Luffy on the shoulder and pointing him in the right direction. 

“Come on. There it is.”

Luffy bounds into the bar with a burst of energy, laughter erupting the instant he spots their friends across the room. Law doesn’t spare the space a glance, too relieved to have a moment of reprieve. He drops into the nearest empty chair and offers Nami a quiet nod as she gives him a light pat on the arm. 

“Hey, guys! How’s it hanging? Oh, man. This place is so cool,” Luffy chirps as he drops into the open seat next to Usopp, swiping his drink for a sip without hesitation. “Yummy! Is that mango?”

“It’s a mango colada and it’s mine,” Usopp snaps, smacking Luffy’s hand and yanking the glass close. “Get your own!”

“Don’t be stingy!” 

Law watches from across the table, one brow raised. He’s seen this exact exchange countless times. 

Luffy’s best friends from undergrad are, in Law’s estimation, some of the most overstimulating people he’s ever met. Usopp, especially. He’s loud at equal measure, constantly narrating the moment as if he’s afraid silence might swallow him whole. He and Luffy bicker for sport, poking at each other over everything and nothing. For years. It’s muscle memory at this point – who takes the last slice, who talks over who, who owes someone a drink from a party in 2017. 

He supposes that’s the magic of living together during your formative years. Roommates at the University of Florida. College best friends. They drank together, ate instant ramen in bulk, survived hurricanes, and successfully lived with Zoro and Sanji’s own brand of disarray as a feral little unit. 

Then there’s Nami. Usopp’s wife and another member of Luffy’s college crew. She’s the only one here who truly matches Law’s wavelength. They’re the brains behind this operation. Dozens of emails, itineraries, shared links that only the two of them actually opened. While Luffy bounced between excitement and distraction, and Usopp sent unhelpful memes to the group chat, it was Nami who kept Law sane. 

They share a pointed look of exasperation as Luffy steals Usopp’s drink again.

“How long have you guys been here?” 

“Just an hour or so,” she says, glancing at her watch. “We walked a quick loop around the deck and then decided to camp out here to wait for you guys.”

“Where’s Zoro? Luffy got a text from him a couple hours ago saying he made it.”

Nami’s eyes immediately roll, a sour scowl overtaking her features. “Right. That idiot. No one knows where he is. Sanji’s out hunting him down as we speak.”

Law sighs sharply, the tension recoiling in his shoulders. “Great,” he says, shaking his head. “Let me guess. Not answering his phone?” 

“Bingo.”

“Christ.”

“This is your fault, you know,” Nami shifts blame, casually stirring her strawberry mojito. “We may have planned this trip together but I didn’t think I’d have to tell you to leash Zoro. You should have carpooled.” 

“We came from a Dental Association conference in Orlando,” Law returns with a scowl. “He’s a thirty year old man. Hardly my responsibility.”

“Whatever.” Nami’s manicured nails clack on the bartop. “I’m just surprised he was the first one here, to be honest.”

Law nods sagely. “So am I.”

“Ooh! Ooh! Bartender! I want a drink!” Luffy shouts, aggressively flagging the poor man over. 

“Of course, sir. What would you like?”

“I’ll have anything that’s not what this guy got!” Luffy requests, pointing to Usopp’s near-empty cocktail.

“What?” Usopp’s eyes bulge as the bartender stalks off. “You drank my drink and you didn’t even like it?!” 

“It wasn’t sweet enough!”

“What the hell, man! You didn’t even request anything sweet! What if you don’t like what he makes you?”

“Would you two shut up?” Nami scolds. “It’s only the first day! I can’t afford to have my vacation ruined because of you two pissing off all the staff!” 

“I’m just the victim here…” Usopp mutters, mournfully staring at his defiled drink. 

“Calm your tatas, Nami!”

“Excuse me?!” 

“It’s fine! You’ll behave, right Usopp?” Luffy says, excitedly grabbing his fresh drink from the counter.

Usopp gawks. “I’ve literally done nothing wrong!” 

Luffy takes the first sip, his ecstatic expression drooping into childlike disgust. “Blegh! It’s sour!”

“I told you!” Usopp points aggressively at Luffy. “I told you this would happen!” 

“Oh my god, Luffy. You’re so annoying,” Nami laments. “You’re literally the pickiest drinker I know. Why would you give the bartender free reign?” 

“It’s disgusting!” Luffy exaggeratedly wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, shoving the glass Law’s way. “Here! You drink it, Traf!” 

“Gee, thanks,” Law mutters, taking the glass and testing a small sip. A whiskey sour. Fortunately, a drink he happens to enjoy. “Tell them you want a Mississippi Mudslide. You like those.”

“Oh, yeah! Hey! Bartender! I want a Mississippi mud pie!” 

Law leaves the next round of scolding to Nami, his interest piqued when a new figure joins them at the bar, sliding into the seat to his left. A disgruntled sigh releases as a blue tote bag lands on the bartop.

“I can’t find that fucking idiot anywhere,” Sanji announces to the group, his limp hand motioning frustratedly in the air. “I walked this whole promenade and back. Went above to other decks – nothing. I even checked the sports bar. Dumb fucker’s lost and he’s not answering his phone.” 

“Why is this man like this?” Nami bemoans. 

“Because he’s a moron, my dear,” Sanji replies.

“Surely he’s around here somewhere,” Law comments, taking another sip of his drink. “He told Luffy he made it onto the ship. At least we have that.”

Usopp tilts his head, fist to his chin in thought. “Are we confident he’s on the right ship?”

“Oh my god! Don’t say that!” Nami puts a hand to her head. “He so would, though! He would get on the wrong ship!” 

“Either he’s on the wrong ship or his drunk ass already fell overboard. See if I care,” Sanji responds, nonplussed as he scans Law and Luffy over. “Anyway. Glad to see you two made it. Been a while. How’ve you been?” 

“Sanji! I got a Mississippi mud puddle!” Luffy announces, pointing excitedly at his fresh drink. “Life’s good, man!”

“Yeah?” Sanji eyes Luffy’s sugary drink with an amused grin. “Still living your best life in Jax Beach, huh?” 

“Hell yeah! I’m up to twelve doggies now. It’s awesome.” 

“Saw that Instagram story of yours the other week – you walking cats now too?” Sanji asks, his eyes playfully shining.

Luffy nods, beaming with pride. “Yeah! We have a neighbor lady who lets her little pipsqueak out. It’s so cute, Sanji!” 

“Gotta say, that’s very on brand for you,” Sanji laughs. “What about you, Law? How’s business at the dental office?”

Law takes a slow sip of his drink, using the pause to study Sanji for a beat over his glass. Out of all Luffy’s friends, this is the one he’s the least sure about. Perhaps it’s simply circumstantial, but he’s always felt he knows very little about Sanji beyond what’s been shared with him through Luffy’s animated stories or Zoro’s offhand remarks. He’s always been a nice guy – polite, warm even, but something else is simmering underneath. Like there’s a missing puzzle piece that could change the whole picture once it’s in place. Law can't help wanting to find it. 

“It’s doing well, thanks,” he eventually responds, placing his empty glass on the bartop. “We just attended a Dental Association conference in Orlando. It was quite enlightening. Lots of new technologies and practices to consider.”

Sanji’s brow rises skyhigh. “Luffy sat through an entire dental conference with you?” 

“Well, he –”

“Heck no! I went to Disney!” Luffy interjects, laughing. “There’s no way I would’ve sat around that snoozefest. I rode Space Mountain like six times.” 

Sanji nods his head, the dots finally connecting. “Yep. There it is.” 

“Oh, you were in Magic Kingdom?” Usopp asks. “I was there last week! We must’ve just missed each other. Did you see the new animatronics in Frontierland? I helped with those.”

“Oh, shit, the bears?! Yeah! They were sweet !” Luffy exclaims with a guffaw. “I liked the one that looks like Elvis!” 

“No, no, no!” Nami slaps a hand gently on the counter, shaking her head. “I do not want to hear about bears or animatronics or robots or anything related to work during this trip. This is my safe space. Do you understand?” 

Luffy pats Nami repeatedly on the back. “‘I’m watching you, Karen!’” he quotes in a parrot tone. “‘I’m watching you, Karen!’” 

“Give me a break,” Nami growls. “That went viral like a year ago. Get over it!”

“Can’t you support your husband for his creative genius?” Usopp says, stroking his goatee. “My Karen-shaming parrot still trends all over TikTok. It’s meme-worthy!” 

“It’s insufferable,” Nami complains. “Ugh. You didn’t stop going on about it even before it went viral. You even had the audacity to keep that thing in the house for weeks!” 

“It was a prototype. Hey, you know what you got into before you married me.” Usopp’s hands raise defensively as Nami sends him a sharp glare. “Hey, I’m just sayin’.” 

“If you don’t love the Karen parrot, that means you’re a Karen!” Luffy suggests, his eyes wide as he accuses her with a point of his finger. “It’s so funny! You saw all the memes! People loved it!” 

“I will break your finger,” Nami threatens darkly. “Personally, I think you two should have married each other.”

Sanji laughs at this. “I mean, they’re a great fit. Truly.” 

“I know, Sanji. That’s why I said it. If there’s anyone threatening to steal my husband away, it’s Luffy.” 

Usopp leans back in his stool and wraps an arm around Luffy’s shoulder. “We do have great chemistry, you and I. My beloved friend. Bestest bud of mine. We could have lived happily ever after.” 

“I’m afraid I must object to this,” Law says with a smirk. “We’re a package deal and I have no interest in moving to Tampa.” 

“Oh? Something wrong with Tampa?” Sanji inquires cheekily, resting his chin on curled fingers. 

“Too much traffic.”

Sanji’s bottom lip juts out in thought, nodding. “I mean, fair point.” 

“We can’t leave Zoro behind anyway,” Luffy agrees with a laugh. His face drops, and he glances around the bar wildly, as though realizing something for the first time. “Wait. Where’s Zoro? He got here hours ago!”  

“You just now noticed?” Usopp asks, smacking Luffy on the shoulder. “We can’t find him.”

“Which unfortunately reminds me,” Sanji says with a drawn out sigh, tugging his tote onto his lap as he pulls back his stool. “I’m gonna take another lap. Maybe get guest services to call for him like a lost two year old.” 

“Forget him.” Nami waves off the notion. “Let’s just go find our rooms. He can figure it out himself.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Ooh! Let me finish my drink first!” Luffy says, sucking furiously on the little straw like a man on a mission. 

Law settles up their small tab while Luffy gives himself a brain freeze, wanting to test out the payment process using his Lux Key. Totally smooth, he finds. And then they’re off, chattering about room numbers and trying to find signs to navigate the expanse of the massive cruise ship. Every walkway, corridor, and floor seems to offer a new wave of luxury. It’s slightly overwhelming, and Law can’t help but be grateful of the digital maps that are stationed throughout.

They reach a section of elevators and determine the area to be their next meeting spot, each of their rooms on different floors and parts of the ship. 

“Take pictures of your views!” Nami says, waving as she and Usopp continue their journey, their cabin further toward the aft. 

“I will!” Sanji says, waving back. He holds off on joining them in the elevator shaft. “Actually, I found a smoking spot earlier. Gonna go there first, I think.” 

“Alright,” Law says, jabbing the button for their floor. “See you in a bit.”

“Bye, Sanji!” Luffy waves with both hands in the air. “Hope you find Zoro!”

“Meet here in a bit,” Sanji replies, waving back as the door closes. 

He twists around to keep heading in the direction of the ship’s aft. There awaits a designated smoking area he’d discovered in his wanderings earlier. That’s one of his missions on this cruise – to find every smoking spot possible. And he’d brought a vape as backup – for truly desperate situations.

He moves through the main entertainment area of the ship with practised ease. At least that was one benefit of being sent on a wild goose chase for Zoro. It allowed him to orient himself well. Once through, he finds a quiet spot by the railing, walking past a slew of lounge chairs. Lighting up, he leans forward against the rail, his eyes trailing along the scenery. To the left, the busy Miami port. To the right, a stretch of ocean enclosed by concrete dock walls. Its waters are cleaved by the wake of boats, both small and large. 

The last time he’d seen Zoro was at the Christmas party Nami had hosted last year. The Jacksonville trio had made the journey across state to her house in Tampa. That had been nearly six months ago. It’s not like how it used to be in college so many years ago, sharing a house in Gainesville with Luffy, Usopp and Zoro. Now, living on different coasts of the state, the group only sees each other intermittently. Living in Tampa, Sanji sees Usopp and Nami the most – and hell, Nami’s not just his longtime friend, she’s also the landlord of the small townhome he occupies. Obviously, those two threads have stayed warm and connected.

Luffy makes constant efforts to keep everyone glued, of course. He visits Tampa often, usually without his partner or Zoro. Sanji can admit he hasn’t been so great at returning the favor – mostly because he’s been so busy for the past three years with his new business. He hasn’t even had time to date, let alone travel to see his friends. 

His relationship with Zoro has been, in a nutshell, incredibly complicated. Communication after college went nearly blackout for many years. Then it opened up again – slow and periodical. Almost probative, their footing unsure. And then at some point over Christmas last year, something connected when he saw Zoro in person. The man had glowed – not just in appearance, but in spirit. That peculiarly thoughtful secret Santa gift – like he just knew Sanji from the inside out. The way his cheeks had dimpled smiling around his beer. 

It left Sanji thinking about him for months. 

A lot has changed since college. Namely, Sanji is more surefooted in himself. His roots have grown stronger since their earlier mess. The two of them are the only single ones of their motley crew – and they’re set to share a room together on this trip. Truthfully, he’s been a bundle of tightly-wound nerves about it. He has no idea where Zoro stands on any of it. Whether that thread’s still warm and connected or has become cold and frayed, he doesn’t know. But true to the nature of a cruise vacation, he’s here to test the waters. 

Sanji flicks his cigarette overboard, watches it drop long and far, and thinks – maybe. Maybe this time will be it.

Before heading back to the elevators, he puts his hands in his pockets and takes a leisurely stroll along the rail line. Breathes in the brine of the ocean, takes in the sights, listens to the calls of gulls and the distant beat of music tracks – and then he hears snoring.

Not just any snoring. It’s familiar. He pauses, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. An elderly couple weaves around his paused form while he analyzes a man sprawled out on a lounge chair. The man is completely passed out in black sportswear, hand lazily resting on his belly, his shirt uplifted. 

Sanji lifts his sunglasses in shock. 

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” 

Slowly, carefully, almost disbelievingly, he approaches Zoro’s snoring form and actually laughs out loud. Close to him now, Sanji can smell the beer radiating off him – fucker passed out drunk before the ship even departed. Yet even in this unseemly state, he’s still infuriatingly hot. His tanned skin glowing in the sun, those toned abs and that v-line on display like the idiot’s trying to torture Sanji, even in his sleep.

Taking advantage of still being on American soil – waters , technically – he snaps a quick picture of the moron and immediately texts it to Nami. Then his lips curve into a slow, endeared kind of smile, before he kicks the back leg of the chair – hard. 

“Hey, dipshit! Wake up!” 

A sudden jolt yanks Zoro out of his slumber. His eyes snap open behind his sunglasses, blinking up at the sky as his brain claws its way to consciousness. A recognizable, grating voice ricochets off his eardrums, too close for comfort. He turns his head, eyebrows ticking up when he finds Sanji standing beside his lounger.

“What d’you want?”

“This is where you’ve been the whole time – are you joking? We’ve been looking all over for you! What the hell happened to you? Had a bit of a day drink, huh? Couldn’t handle it?”

Zoro rises to a sitting position, rubbing his head as he thinks back on his last few hours. “Went to a bar,” he explains, scowling over the top of his sunglasses. “Had a few. You should’ve called me if you were so damn worried.”

Sanji nearly has an aneurysm right where he stands. “Call you? Call you? I’ve only called you eight times in the past hour! We’ve all been texting! Didn’t you see we were supposed to meet at the Azule Lounge?”

Frown deepening, Zoro pats his pockets and tugs out his phone. There’s about fifty missed notifications between calls and messages that he’s left unanswered and unread. He shrugs. “Guess it’s on silent.”

“I hate you. I actually hate you,” Sanji says, pinching the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger. “You may as well just throw that fucking phone into the ocean for how useless you are with it.” 

“Then you’d have nothin’ to whine about,” Zoro deadpans as he stands from the chair, stretching his arms above him before giving Sanji a wide grin. “Can’t have that, huh?”

“Believe me, I can find loads to complain about when it comes to you.” Sanji puts both hands on his hips, staring at Zoro with comical disdain. “Now c’mon, drunky. Everyone else went to check out their rooms. Time to see what hell looks like for me for the next 14 fucking days.”

Not eager to trigger another tirade from the Prince of Bitching, Zoro falls in line wordlessly and gestures for the little bastard to lead the way. He keeps his eyes trained on how the sun glints off Sanji’s hair, the pull of his cotton t-shirt between his shoulder blades, the subtle flashes of blue eyes checking over shoulder to make sure he’s still following. Music and conversation float through the air, throngs of people gathering along the walkways and corridors. Sanji pauses to let a gaggle of young women saunter past, hand brushing Zoro’s arm briefly to get him to halt. It’s barely a touch but suddenly Zoro forgets what they were even bickering about. 

The spark’s always there. Nearly a decade now. But it never quite burns the way it should.

They opt to take the stairs, two decks down. And then it’s a maze of blue-carpeted hallways. Left, right, left again. Zoro has no hope of being able to find it again off memory alone. Luckily the room number is easy to recall – 10066. 

“This us?” Zoro asks as Sanji stops outside a door. “Or are you lost?”

“Please. I’m not you.” Sanji waves dismissively at him, sliding his Lux Key into the slot. It turns blue, ‘green-lighting’ him to turn the handle. He steps inside, Zoro hot on his heels as they nearly bottleneck inside the narrow space awaiting them. Closets and storage on one side, the door to the bathroom on the other. He shuffles into the open space of the room, spotting their luggage standing upright on the floor by the Keurig machine. 

Sanji releases a short sigh of relief. “Glad our things didn’t get lost, at least.” 

“Yeah,” Zoro agrees, stepping further into the cramped space to take a look around. “Wouldn’t wanna deal with you for two weeks without your precious hair dryer.”

“I didn’t bring a fucking hair dryer, you idiot,” Sanji states, opening a cabinet door knowledgably – video tours are a wonderful thing. “They provide one. See?” 

Zoro can only shake his head. Instead, he shifts his focus to the bed situation. “Hold on. You sure this is the right room? Thought we were s’posed to have two beds.”

“The fuck is this?” Sanji gawks at the miniscule distance between the two single mattresses. Almost indistinguishable from a full-sized bed. In the video tour he’d watched, the demo room had a Lux King. He’d assumed the beds would separate way more than this. “This is how they space two single beds? Seriously?” 

“Don’t be kickin’ me in the night,” Zoro grumbles, eyeing the few inches between his sleeping quarters and his roommate’s. He hoists his duffel bag onto one of the mattresses, staking what small claim he can. “I’m takin’ this one by the AC vent.”

“Who says you get first dibs?” Sanji asks with a firm cross of his arms. 

“Easy.” Zoro shoots Sanji a smirk. “I got here first.”

“What the fuck does that matter?!” 

“I’m number one.”

“I did the research. I booked the room. You haven’t even paid your share yet!” 

“So?” Zoro crosses his own arms in return. “You always say you’re cold. I’m doin’ you a favor.”

Sanji pauses his tirade mid-point. Then, he deflates. It’s true – he hates AC blowing on him at night. Something he’d discovered after moving to Florida for college – that it’s the land of ice box air conditioning.

“Fine. I’ll take the other bed,” he relents, “but I’m picking the drawers I like.” 

“Fine.”

“Fine,” Sanji echoes, his eyes lazily drifting to the large window connecting them to the cerulean blue of the sea. Truly the selling piece of this particular room – the Lux Infinite Oceanview. They both wouldn’t be able to afford a suite or a balcony room – let alone both – but this beauty was still within their budget. He beckons Zoro over and begins fiddling with the latch. 

“Check out this window. It’s no balcony, but watch this.” 

Zoro’s eyes widen as the top half of the window lowers, opening up to welcome the scent of seawater and a fresh breeze. “Damn. That’s fancy.”

Sanji pulls over a chair from the small table nearby. He takes out his vape and sucks in a quick puff, blowing the white smoke outside. “Oh, I’m gonna make good use outta this.” 

They fall into a silent rhythm of unpacking, quickly filling drawers and tucking away essentials. Zoro can’t help but comment on the sheer volume of clothing being tugged out of Sanji’s suitcase.

“How many damn shirts did you bring? Enough for the whole fuckin’ boat?”

“This is a two-week cruise. There's a dress code for dinner, plus all the casual wear,” Sanji explains, struck by a terrifying realization all too quick. “Wait. I didn’t see you pull out one dress shirt. Did you even bring anything to wear to dinner?” 

“I got two in here,” Zoro retorts, tugging them out of the bag and waving them in Sanji’s direction. “See? All good.”

“Those are wrinkled. And are you expecting to pay for laundry service every two days?” Sanji asks, exasperated. “You’re gonna need more. Did you bring slacks? Ties?” 

“Dinner’s – what? An hour? I won’t need to wash ‘em.” Zoro digs deeper into his duffel. “Got a pair of khakis in here somewhere.”

Sanji’s jaw drops. “Okay. You’re useless. You’re officially useless. This was stressed in the group chat. Did you read any of that shit at all?” 

“How many damn dress shirts do you think I got, shithead?” Zoro grumbles. “I’m a PE coach, not a funeral director.”

“Well, you’re gonna need more, shithead.” Sanji rubs his temples, annoyed. “Now I have to take you shopping. See what you’ve done? We both won’t enjoy that.” 

“Why? I’ll just eat dinner at the buffet or somethin’.”

“You – wow. Okay. There’s a lot to unpack here,” Sanji remarks. “First, you’re a moron. Second, you’re an idiot. And third –” 

“Shut the hell up,” Zoro cuts in, shoving into Sanji with his shoulder as he stretches past. “I ain’t listenin’ to that bullshit.”

Sanji takes a deep, meditative breath. “Okay. We’re sharing this room for two weeks. We have to play nice. Why don’t we go down, get a drink, maybe a couple shots to unwind – and then I’m taking you shopping.”

Zoro’s eyes narrow as he studies Sanji for a beat, unconvinced. “You buyin’ the shots?”

“The shots? That goes without saying.” Sanji laughs. “I’ll pay for your entire wardrobe if that’s what it takes.” 

“Deal.”

They navigate back to the elevators, down to the galleria on Deck 7. True to the Sapphire Lux’s gemstone theme, that deck is named Garnet. As soon as they step off the elevator, the galleria magnificently opens up to them. The first thing they do is head straight into the closest, most tempting bar where they banter over a quick drink and some shots. 

Then, they go to some duty free clothing boutiques. To Sanji’s surprise, Zoro doesn’t make much of a fuss. He just lets Sanji and the store clerks do their thing, pliable to all colors, patterns and fits. Sanji is amused and enamored the entire time – truly, there’s no better way to make Zoro agreeable than the promise of free alcohol. And even more rewarding – he looked pretty damn fine in many of the outfits they’d picked out.

And because Sanji made it a bigger deal than he knows Zoro cares for, he does end up paying for most of it. Zoro argues, but Sanji insists that it’s no sweat off his back. Business has been steady and lucrative at his bistro bakery – hell, he’s had no life for 3 years due to it. Money, personal achievement, and distraction have been his silver lining throughout the entire whirlwind. 

Dinnertime looms before they know it. It’s time for Sanji’s hard work humanizing Zoro to come to fruition. They head back to their room on Deck 10 – dubbed the Crystal deck.

Sanji pulls out one of his favorite picks from their spoils, a wine red shirt. He hands it over to Zoro with a pair of black pants as he continues scavenging the bag. He’s laying the ties out on the counter, deciding between the patterns and colors, when he hears Zoro stripping just behind him. He glances over his shoulder, immediately blushing when he’s met with a near-naked body – covered only by a pair of boxers. He swears he’s even more ripped than he remembers. 

Flustered, Sanji quickly turns back to the ties, unable to focus on his task of picking one out – especially when the mirror is right in front of him, with Zoro’s reflection in full sight as the man reclothes. 

“Don’t know why you’re actin’ shy,” Zoro says as he rips the tag off his shirt with his teeth. “You saw more than this when we were roommates.”

“I’m not acting shy,” Sanji reactively denies. “I just didn’t expect you to change right here like a caveman.” 

“Where else am I gonna change?” Zoro asks as he fiddles with his buttons, jutting his jaw toward the bathroom door. “These shoulders don’t fit in that tin can.”

“I’m not complaining, dammit. You don’t need to explain yourself,” Sanji states, waving him off. He settles on the black and charcoal grey striped tie, twisting around to hold it up against Zoro’s chest. He beams. “This one looks good.” 

Zoro shifts his gaze, anchoring to a spot on the wall past Sanji’s shoulder. “Alright.”

Sanji stares at Zoro curiously, wondering where this awkwardness has suddenly come from. Having an inkling, his hand lowers, gesturing for Zoro to grab the tie. “Here.” 

Eyes trailing to where Sanji’s hand is outstretched in offering, Zoro hesitates for a minute. “Uh, okay,” he says. “Got it.”

Sanji’s grin splits from ear to ear. “Do you?” 

“Hope so,” Zoro says, chuckling. “Last time I tied one of these was Dad’s funeral.”

“Except I tied that one for you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah… I got you.” Sanji laughs and steps closer, looping the tie around his neck. “Again.” 

Zoro can almost feel Sanji’s breath on his neck as deft fingers work decisively to tighten the knot. A rush of memories floods in – his father’s funeral, college graduation, the pro scout meetings back when he still wore a Gators baseball jersey. Each moment bound by the same quiet ritual: Sanji, steady hands and soft smile, piecing him together when it mattered most.

“Thanks,” Zoro says when the task is complete, watching Sanji step back and admire his work. “Guess that’s your job now, huh?”

Sanji puts a hand to his hip, scoping Zoro out. “Not a ‘teach a man to fish’ kinda guy, are you?”

“Why learn when you’re gonna fish for me?”

“Okay,” Sanji agrees with a shrug, grabbing his prepared outfit and heading for the bathroom. “Guess I’ll keep fishing then.” 

Zoro can only watch as the bathroom door gently shuts closed.

Spruced up for their night out, Zoro and Sanji leave their cabin and meet with the others by the elevators on the appropriate floor. Then, they head off as a group to the dining rooms on Deck 6 – named Citrine. Their designated restaurant is called Bubbles. They find their allocated circular six-top. It’s the table that will always be reserved for them throughout their time on the Sapphire Lux, should they choose to dine with Bubbles. 

Sanji is impressed with the table’s setting. Professional, immaculate, providing every possible utensil they’ll need for each phase of dinner. He’s excited to see if the food matches the quality of the aesthetic and preparation.

“Who pissed in your cereal?” Zoro asks Law as they sit next to one another, having spotted the black cloud hanging over his friend’s head the moment they met-up at the elevators. 

“Oh, man! Guess what?!” Luffy cackles, leaning across his partner and giving Zoro an amused grin. “They lost his luggage! He’s so pissed.”

“No,” Sanji reacts, shocked and appalled. “Fuck, that sucks.” 

“I have the cabin steward searching for it,” Law states with a glum scowl. “But I’m skeptical.”

“That’s terrible,” Nami offers with a sympathetic half-smile from across the table. “I’d be so pissed. Did you complain to Guest Services?” 

“Of course.”

“What freebies did they offer you?”

“Nothing yet. I’m waiting to see how long it takes and what state my luggage is in before I make my demands.”

“Smart man.”

“What is wrong with you two?” Usopp asks incredulously, looking between his wife and Law.

“Damn,” Zoro says, clapping a heavy hand on Law’s shoulder. “Got a ton of new clothes today. Take somethin’ if you want.”

“I beg your pardon?” Law asks, eyebrows lifting. “You think I’d fit into your clothes? They’d be too short. And wide.”

Zoro shrugs. “I tried.”

“You could borrow some of my clothes, if you think they’d fit you,” Sanji adds, admiring the idea raised. Not to mention, offering the clothes off his back was a sweet gesture of Zoro’s.

“Let’s just see what the night brings,” Law dismisses, opening his menu.

“Sure,” Sanji replies, eyes flitting down to the selection of choices before him. “I mean, hopefully it doesn’t come to that. I’m sure they’ll find it soon.” 

A loud voice booms from behind them, stealing their collective attention away from their menus and to the towering figure approaching their table.

“Welcome to the Bubbles dining room!” the tall man greets, a pair of sunglasses oddly dangling from the neck of his tuxedo. “I’m Franky. Your head waiter tonight, and every night that you’ll be dining with us. Super cool, right?”

“We get you every night? That is cool!” Luffy instantly agrees. “Hey, Franky, can I get a burger?”

“I only got what’s on this menu, little guy,” Franky says, nodding at the lists in their hands. “If you want a burger, you’ll have to head up to the food court on Emerald deck.”

“Aw, man. Okay,” Luffy says, suddenly agreeable as he excitedly taps on his menu. “Well, I’ll get the steak!” 

Sanji looks up, tickled by Luffy’s classic brand of impatience. Thankfully, Franky seems just as entertained, taking it in stride. Seems like a very easy going kind of guy. 

“Ignore him,” Law quickly clarifies, giving Franky an apologetic look. “We’ll order drinks first like civilized humans.”

“Cool!” Franky says, issuing a thumbs up. “So, what’re we having?”

They order their drinks, taking some time to ponder their options over light conversation. Every passenger gets a choice of one appetizer, main, and dessert on the set menu.

“Zoro,” Usopp whispers sneakily, catching his friend’s attention from across the table. “You’re not getting dessert, right? Can I have it?” 

Zoro’s eyes sweep the bottom half of the menu, looking for anything that doesn’t seem too sweet or too boring. Not finding an option that meets his needs, he shakes his head. “Nah. That’s all yours bud. Whatcha want?”

“Get the lava cake!” 

“Sure.”

“Damn, man. How am I supposed to choose?” Luffy asks, eyes flying up and down the list. “I want spring rolls! No – shrimp cocktail! No! I want the meat and cheese tray. Law! Law! Let me eat your app. Please?” 

“Not a chance,” Law says, shaking his head. “Go to the buffet after dinner if you're still hungry.” 

“I’ll order the meat and cheese tray and we can share, Luff,” Sanji suggests, hoping it will pacify his friend. It works out for him too. He’d wanted to leave room for his main. 

Luffy beams. “You’re the best, Jiji!” 

Zoro feels the heat of Law’s glare across him as he shoots a dirty look Sanji’s way. Fortunately, any tension is evaporated by the arrival of their drinks. An Old Fashioned is unceremoniously placed down in front of Zoro and he grins, grabbing the young girl’s attention before she stalks off.

“Let me put in for another.”

“Certainly, sir.”

“You’re gonna drink this entire ship dry, aren’t you?” Sanji teases, admiring the presentation of his French 75, garnished with a lemon twist and a sprig of rosemary. 

“Plannin’ on it,” Zoro confirms, smirking over his glass before taking a swallow. “Gonna hit up every bar.”

“There’s no way, dude,” Usopp says, shaking his head. “There’s over forty bars here. You’ll get drunk and forget to go to them all.”

Zoro scowls at the challenge. “You wanna bet?”

“Yeah, yeah!” Luffy joins in excitedly. “I wanna bet! I bet you can’t drink a drink from every single bar on this ship.”

“Y’all’re dumb,” Zoro says with a laugh. “Easy work. Can do it by tomorrow.” 

“Not a chance,” Nami finally chimes in, eyes not leaving her phone. “Even for you, that’s physically impossible.”

“And logistically impossible,” Sanji mutters.

“What? I can do forty beers in a day. I’ve done it before.”

“Even if you could, some of these bars are only open at certain times. You’d have to be strategic to meet that goal – if it’s even possible,” Sanji says, ending his lengthy explanation with a snarky, “...dumbass.” 

“Fuck off, asshole,” Zoro grumbles. “I’m doin’ it. I’m gonna drink at every bar on this goddamn ship.”

“Yeah, Zoro! Do it! Do it!” Luffy cheers.

Sanji rolls his eyes, giving Nami a look. “Someone’s motivated.” 

“Shall we, dare I say, make this more interesting?” Usopp says, stroking his chin and staring at Zoro. “If we’re betting for real, we need real stakes.” 

“This is already the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Nami comments.

“You can say that again,” Law agrees.

Usopp dramatically points across the table. “I’ll bet you your Hank Aaron baseball that you can’t do it.”

Zoro’s eyes widen at the gravity of the bet. That’s one of his most cherished pieces of memorabilia. But he knows exactly how to up the ante. “Well I’ll bet you your signed Tim Tebow jersey that I can.”

“Oh, shiiit!” Luffy cackles into a balled fist before mimicking the sound of an airhorn. “What’re you gonna do, ‘Sopp? Gonna take it?”

Usopp stiffens in his chair, hands rising as if cooling down the heat in the room. “You’ve got balls, my friend. Serious balls.”

“Serious, heavy, fat balls!” Luffy shouts, earning some perturbed looks from the occupied tables around them. 

“Can you quit that?” Law whacks Luffy on the arm. “Seriously. Act like you’ve been in public before.”

Luffy leans forward, his voice hushed, “Serious balls.”

“He’s not wrong,” Zoro adds, earning a hit of his own.

“Alright!” Usopp slams his fist on the table. “If we’re going to do this, if I’m putting my Tim Tebow jersey on the front lines, we need to lay down some ground rules.” He lifts a finger dramatically, “Rule number one –” 

“You guys ready to place your orders?” Franky interrupts, appearing at their tableside without warning. 

“Yeah, I have a question!” Luffy volunteers, raising a hand. He taps the menu excitedly. “Can I get two appetizers?”

“Sure thing,” Franky returns, nodding. “You can have whatever you want! There’s no limits to the Bubbles dining room!” 

“No limits?!” Luffy repeats, his eyes practically bulging out of his skull. “For real?” 

“No, I’m sorry –” Law sighs, obviously trying to compose himself at Luffy’s yelling. “For this one, there are limits. Hard limits. He can only have one of each category.”

“What?! That’s not fair! You’re being a Debbie Downer!” 

Usopp earns a cackle from Luffy when he leans over and whispers, “‘I’m watching you, Karen.’” 

“I said if you’re still hungry, you can go to the buffet after,” Law issues through gritted teeth. “I will not be sitting here all evening while you stuff your gullet with endless dishes. Do you understand?”

“But –” Luffy’s bottom lip pokes out in an exaggerated pout. “That’s so uncool.” 

Franky looks between the two of them as he slides to the other side of the table, engaging Sanji instead. “What about you, my guy? Are you ready to order?” 

Sanji smiles pleasantly at their waiter, asking a series of questions about the menu to buy his ridiculous friends more time. They’ll surely need it to screw their heads on straight. Slowly, surely, and chaotically, everyone around the table places their orders. Franky yet again surfs the waves of their disorder with that easygoing, affable grace. 

“I swear,” Nami says to her husband after the waiter leaves their feral little group, “if you lose that dumb jersey to this pissing contest, I don’t want to hear one peep out of you.”

“I’m not gonna lose!” Usopp insists. He turns his attention back to Zoro, a grin spreading across his lips. “Okay. The rules. Number one – you have to drink an actual drink. No shots or beers! That’s too easy.” 

Zoro frowns. “Alright. Rule number two – I get the whole trip to do this then.” 

“What?!” Usopp balks. “That changes everything!”

“What’re you, a pussy?” 

“No, no, no! I’m a strong man of character,” Usopp insists, striking his palm with a fist. “Rule three: you have to do it alone. No one else can drink your drinks for you. And I need proof! A picture of you at every bar with your cocktail.”

“Fine,” Zoro accepts, already mentally planning where he’s going to hang that jersey once it’s his. “Anythin’ else?”

“Uh, y-yes,” Usopp stammers, a visible sheen of sweat sprouting on his forehead. “Anywhere with alcohol counts. So the bars, the lounges, the restaurants. Everywhere.” 

“Sure,” Zoro agrees, unfazed. He extends a hand across the table, teeth bared as he offers Usopp a challenging grin. “Shake on it.”

“T-this starts tomorrow! Your drinks tonight don’t count!”

“I said shake on it, ‘Sopp.”

“Let the hunger games begin!” Luffy shouts as Usopp weakly grips Zoro’s hand in a pathetic shake. “It’s on like Donkey Kong!” 

“You okay over there, Mrs. Schwann?” Sanji asks Nami, thinking that her phone’s about to snap from the death grip she has on it.

“It’s our first night. The ship hasn’t even departed yet. I just wanted a quiet, normal, sane dinner. This is going to be our lives for two weeks, Sanji. I’m mourning my peaceful vacation.”

Sanji nods, gently comforting her with a pat to her hand. “We’re in the company of idiots.”

“Pardon?”

“The three of us,” Sanji corrects, including Law in their sane little triangle, “are in the company of idiots. I say tomorrow, we give them the slip and dine somewhere undisclosed.” 

Usopp and Luffy object. “Hey!” 

“Fine by me,” Zoro says, leaning back in his seat. “I’ll be too busy drinkin’.” 

“Oh my god, Zoro. You’re going to be a total shitshow,” Nami practically weeps. “I’ll give you a ground rule: keep your mess out of my zen zone.” 

“Mine too,” Law chimes in. “I want nothing to do with this.”

Zoro glances to his left, giving Sanji a smirk. “Guess it’s your problem, sugar tits.” 

“The fuck did you just call me?” Sanji retorts, offended and blinking furiously. “I’m taking your Lux Key and locking you out of the room.” 

“Keep dreamin’.”

“I will be. In my room. Peacefully. While you’re sleeping on the hallway floor.” 

“You can sleep with us, Zoro!” Luffy offers with a grin.

Law sighs. “No. He cannot.” 

“Debbie Downer strikes again!”

“I’m watching you, Karen!”

“Christ.” Law rolls his eyes. “So let me tell you guys about the Dental Association conference in Orlando…”

Dinner proceeds in a blur of chatter and forks clinking. The table splits into two conversations: Law, Sanji, and Nami trading plans for the port stops while Luffy and Zoro plot the bet, Usopp trying to derail them at every turn. Drinks keep flowing. Plates empty. By the time they’re pushing back from the table, everyone’s full and riding their own version of a buzz. 

They spill out of the dining room in a tangle of laughter, folding into the flow of the crowd heading to the Serpent Theater for the embarkation show. 

Zoro sinks into a velvet seat a few rows from the stage, grin still tugging at his mouth from Luffy’s dumb antics. Then Sanji drops into the seat beside him, brushing against his arm as he settles in. A subtle spark of heat radiates in the inch of space between them. One he can’t seem to will away, no matter how often he tries. 

So Zoro leans into it. Lets his knee press lightly into Sanji’s as he twists to him to ask, “You see a waiter anywhere?”

Sanji’s leg tingles as he tilts closer. “Doesn’t your little bet start tomorrow?”

“I’m thirsty.” 

Pleasantly buzzed from the drinks at dinner, Sanji laughs and grabs Zoro’s shoulder, giving it a playful shake. “I think I spotted one. I’ll go grab us something before the show starts. What do you want?” 

“Whiskey over ice.” Zoro snatches Sanji’s hand in his own, holding it for a beat as he locates his Lux Key and presses it into his companion’s palm. “Round’s on me.”

“Sure,” Sanji responds dumbly, unable to think as he hurries away from their spot. He can feel how intensely his cheeks have heated up, and it’s not just from the alcohol in his system. When he returns with their beverages, Zoro already looks like he’s about to fall asleep in his seat. He presses the cold whiskey glass to Zoro’s cheek, laughing when it immediately rouses him. 

“Are you even gonna be able to watch this thing, you drunken bastard?”

“Gimme that,” Zoro says, snatching the glass from Sanji’s hand and sitting up straighter in his chair. “M’good. Had a nap earlier, remember?”

Sanji lifts a finger. “That was not a nap. That was you passing out after day drinking.”

“Shh! Sanji, the show’s starting,” Nami says, tugging a lock of his hair to shut him up. 

Sanji winces, his eyes lifting to see that the lights have dimmed and a man is walking to the center of the stage. He straightens in his seat, gaining every bit of height that he can to see more.

“Hello darlings!” the man announces into the mic, charming the crowd into a hushed silence. “Welcome aboard the Sapphire Lux! Your floating palace of pleasure, passion, poolside mojitos and, if I have anything to say about it, nonstop fabulousness!” 

The crowd cheers as the man does a twirl. 

“My name is Bentham, your cruise director, emotional support diva, and curator of fun! Over the next two weeks you will dance, laugh, and fall in love. Maybe with the sea, maybe at karaoke, or maybe even with yourself, honey! Yeehaw!” 

“Is he serious?” Zoro mutters under his breath.

Sanji slides in, a flat hand to the side of his smirking mouth. “Yeehaw.”

“Now make some noise, darlings, because we’ve got an embarkation celebration that’s sure to twinkle your toes!” 

“Oh, man, I love this guy!” Luffy cheers, jumping out of his seat and clapping thunderously. “Hell yeah! Twinkle our toes!” 

“Let the magic begin!” 

With a flourish of his hands, the cruise director gracefully twists and twirls his way backwards – clearly, he’s had ballet training in the past. As he disappears behind the curtain, dramatic music blares and fills the theater’s tall ceilings, and a flurry of nimble dancers swarm the stage. 

Then, to Sanji’s amazement, an ethereal woman in a sparkling, cerulean outfit rises from the middle of the stage, instantly softening the intense energy of the scene and drawing all attention to her. She twirls into motion slow, gentle, and a bit melancholic, like a mermaid dancing underwater.

“Oh, wow. Look at her,” he says aloud, his breath catching. “She’s beautiful.” 

Zoro’s ears perk at the murmured admiration spewing from Sanji’s lips, his attention snapping back just as he was about to doze off. He glances back to the stage, eyes narrowing at the sight of a scantily clad woman dancing beneath the lights. Of course. Fucking pervert Sanji – eyes only for the women and never anywhere else. 

His jaw tenses. The dancer dips low in an exaggerated twirl and Zoro feels Sanji nudge against his knee. This time, the touch isn’t heated. It’s pure ice – cold, brittle, all warmth doused by the stark reminder of everything Zoro will never be.

He tosses back the rest of his whiskey. 

“Look, look!” Luffy whispers too loudly, shaking Zoro’s arm when lights brighten and a new series of dancers take the stage. “Those outfits are so cool. Think Law will buy me one?!” 

“Not a chance.”

“Boo!” 

Zoro’s arms are still crossed, but his jaw’s unclenched now. A new performer takes center stage. A guy this time, tall and long-limbed, dancing around like he owns every inch of space under the spotlight. Yellow and orange spandex cling to lean muscle, sequins catching the light with every twist. 

Zoro watches openly, hungrily, not giving a single fuck who notices. The sour taste in his mouth dissolves fast, replaced by a simmering heat coiling low in his gut. Whoever this guy is, he’s fuckable. And that’s exactly the type of distraction Zoro needs.

“Damn, man. Look at this guy,” Luffy points out, tapping Zoro on the shoulder. “He’s smokin’ hot!”

Zoro nods in agreement. “I’d fuck him.”

Overhearing the not-so-discreet conversation going on beside him, Sanji’s attention is ripped from the stage. He turns to Zoro, finding him sitting up straight in his chair, adjusting himself, practically drooling over the gorgeous man in the center spotlight. The guy looks nothing like Sanji – and yet Zoro is thirsting over him like he’s the last drink of water on scorched earth. It’s as if Sanji’s alcohol-induced confidence evaporates from his bloodstream. Self-consciously and unsure, he removes his leg from Zoro’s space. 

Then, unable to help himself, Sanji leans over, points to the performer and asks, “That guy’s your type, huh?”

Zoro shifts ever so slightly to give Sanji a raised brow before returning his gaze to the dancer. Mop of brown hair, tanned skin, legs for days. Not really his type but whatever. It gets the job done. He shrugs. “Sure.”

Sanji tilts his head, analyzing the dancer further. “What is it about him?” he poses, masking innocent curiosity. 

“He looks like he can take a cock.”

“That’s the qualifying factor?” Sanji smiles, even as insecurity wells in his chest.

“It helps.”

Sanji is about to reply, when Nami scolds them with another sharp shh.

The rest of the performance goes by in a colorful blur. Sanji finds himself half paying attention, his mind drifting in a fog that has him struggling to see his earlier, more confident motivations. Especially as the male performer turns out to be one of the main stars of the show, his grace and beauty entangling Zoro further and further inside of his web. 

Sanji is jealous, of course, even when he recognizes the distance of the threat. It’s not as though he’s an approachable man for Zoro to fuck at some bar. Yet it still doesn’t sit comfortably inside him – this sneaking fear that these feelings he’s finally caught up to have potentially come far too late. The realization that even if Zoro did want him like he wants the man on the stage, that want would come with the baggage of their complex history. Not simple enough – not like the organic allure and sex appeal of the performer that’s enraptured Zoro. Qualities so potent it’s kept him from drunkenly passing out to the lullaby of what he’d otherwise consider a stale show.

It reminds Sanji that Zoro likes simplicity. And it makes him question himself and ponder if he can realistically be that simple thing he needs. 

The group disperses as soon as the show’s over, a long day of travel and cocktails taking a toll on them all. They wander to the elevators like zombies clinging to the edge of life. Sanji smirks to himself. After a night of good rest, everyone should be ready for a new and exciting day. 

“I’m exhausted,” Sanji states as he slides the keycard into their door and opens it. As Zoro lumbers behind him, he asks, “You gonna sleep or keep on your bender?” 

“I’m sleepin’,” Zoro says, suddenly hit by a perfectly timed yawn. “Need my energy for tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I bet you do,” Sanji replies. “You’ll be running on cocktails. Won’t you miss your precious beer?” 

“A noble sacrifice.” Zoro smirks as he unbuttons his dress shirt, kicking his shoes into the corner. “That jersey’s as good as mine.”

Once undressed, Zoro collapses onto his narrow bed. His body is worn. Heavy. Limbs sinking deep into the mattress, hoping it’ll swallow him whole. He closes his eyes, but his ears stay open.

He listens as Sanji moves through the room quietly. A rustle of drawers. The unzip of a bag. Water running, the clink of a toothbrush against porcelain. It’s unbearable, the intimacy of it. Mundane, familiar. Him. He’s even humming under his breath. A cabinet shuts with a soft thunk. Every sound is so ordinary and so unmistakably Sanji. 

The bathroom door swings open. A muttered curse in the dark. Sheets rustle. They’re barely inches apart now, and Zoro still feels miles away.

“Night, goldfish.”

Sanji’s lip curls in the dark. Been a long time since he’s heard that old nickname from their college days. The sheets graze his skin as he twists to reply.

“Night, slugger.”