Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Zoro turns around for a fourth time in the forest clearing he’s found himself in. 

He definitely isn’t lost. 

The moon is a waning crescent up in the sky, but still shines brightly amongst the trees around him. Stars are speckled in wavering collections of light around it and down over the sapphire dome of the night. At the very least, he was thankful it wasn’t pitch black. He’d had that happen a few times, too.

Worst case scenario, he did have some matches with him this time. Though a measly 1-inch flame wouldn’t do him much good. He supposes he could just tear off a bit of his robe to wrap around a stick- use that as a torch. He tucks the idea away for later. 

Instead, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the wanted poster Nami had given him. It’s rolled up and crinkled, and even when smoothing it out over his knee with a firm hand he can barely make out what’s printed on it in the night’s illumination. He knows what it says, and it’s not like it’ll help him, so he’s not sure why he pulled it out.

Wanted. Vampire Gecko Moria. Dead only. 320,000,000 Berries. 

Yep. Pretty self-explanatory. Zoro stuffs it back into his pocket with a growl and faces the clearing with a newly invigorated frown.

He’d come to Blue Town earlier that morning, found an inn, claimed a room, and spent the rest of the day figuring out how to make it to Thriller Bark, the town over, the one where his target was actually supposed to be. Staying in the smaller town nearby made it less likely to raise the suspicions of his target. It also gave him twice as many chances to get turned around.

He reaches up to scratch at his head. He was headed east, right? Thriller Bark was supposed to be east of Blue Town. So to get back, he just needed to head…South. 

Easy peasy. 

He was about to turn on his heel to do just that when he picked up the sound of a lighter flicking on. 

—

Sanji is out in the forest that night looking for something to curb his appetite. 

Although he’s craving the blood of a pretty woman, as always- it's something he'll never allow himself to have. Kissing them, of course- making love to them- obviously , but biting them? Gods, no. He’d never ask such a thing of a lady. Much as he wants it, he won't. 

The one time he had, back when he was a teenager, still young and impressionable and stupid, Zeff had almost smashed his head in when he found out. Lesson learned. And greatly internalized.

Men? That he’d allow. Begrudgingly, but it wasn't the worst thing on earth. He supposed men weren't too awful in their own right every once in a while. And hell, they probably deserved it. 

And typically, that was what he did- find some poor soul, make a quick nip or otherwise seduce them into one, and then slip away after they’d fainted. No harm done, no ladies inconvenienced. However, there'd been an uptick in vampire activity the town over, recently, and Sanji was very good at keeping a low profile. Whatever asshole had moved in next door and taken up residence in his territory? They were not . And Sanji was not about to make Zeff pack them up and move again so soon after last time. It’d be better if he just held himself over with a deer or a rabbit tonight, uncivilized as it made him feel. 

He’s not having much luck at the moment, so he forgoes being stealthy to light himself a cigarette. After which, something new wafts in with the scent of the smoke. 

Sanji sniffs the air. Oh. Someone was out here. Like, a person.

He follows the scent until he turns around a tree to find a clearing, within which stands a man with a striking silhouette. Dark leather boots and black pants follow up his legs to where three unique swords rest at his side, their saya ranging from white to red to black. He’s wearing a dark green robe that dips far too low into his chest to be modest, though it does show off a cross-body scar that looks particularly nasty. Sanji follows the marred skin up across his broad chest and to his muscled shoulders, where he catches the man’s eyes. Steely grey and unmoving. His face is just as scarred as his body is, with a long indent cutting over his left eye, permanently closed. Three golden earrings hang from his ear beside it. 

And his hair…A short, messy patch of green. 

Aside from the odd hair color- (or maybe the novelty of it helped?) this guy was quite attractive. He could never quite tell whether this made him want to feed from a man more or less.

He feels his fangs start to drop and wills them to stay put so that he can appear human. For now.

“It’s kinda dangerous to hang out in the forest at night, you know.” He says matter-of-factly. The green-haired man turns to face him and scowls.

“I could say the same to you.” The scowl fades; his voice turns casual. “Hey, you know how to get back to Blue Town from here?” 

Sanji quirks a brow.  ‘He's asking for directions?’ 

“Uh, yeah...You just head due west.” 

He watches as the stranger raises his brows in understanding, turns 180 degrees, and takes a confident step to the north. 

Sanji lets him take two more steps before he calls out again, at this point debating whether he’s stopping him to ensure he can feed from him or if it’s only out of pity. 

“That’s north.” He says flatly, holding his cigarette at arms length.

The swordsman stops dead in his tracks. He seems to radiate irritation for the briefest moment before he turns around, resignation on his face. 

“Just point me in the right direction, would you?” He grumbles.

Sanji can't help but smirk. This guy would be fun to mess with. 

“Yea, yea, just head that way, mosshead.” Sanji says smoothly, pointing out of the clearing. His voice is so that it sounds polite enough not to hold an insult, and Zoro trusts his tone. He doesn't notice the dig at his appearance until he's taken another two steps that way, too.

“Hey, wait a minute, what'd you call me!?” 

Zoro's turned back around in an instant, and Sanji’s snickering to himself all the while. 

“Cool it, swordsman. I'll show you the way, c'mon.” And he does. He struts past Zoro and lets his hand brush the other's shoulder as he goes, cigarette resting lazily between his lips as he heads back to town. It takes a few moments, and at first he thinks he's lost his chance, but then he hears footsteps begrudgingly follow behind him. He grins.

Once the green-haired stranger has caught up enough- just a few feet behind him, apparently averse to joining him at his side- Sanji asks his name. 

The other grunts. “It's Zoro.” 

“And what were you doing out here in the middle of the night, Zoro?”

“None of your business, swirly brow.”

Sanji frowns. “It’s Sanji.”

“Sure.” Zoro’s voice is blasé.

Sanji’s frown deepens. Yea, he's definitely going to drain this guy later. Not completely- he doesn't do that. 

But enough. 

They reach the inn soon after, and despite himself, Sanji offers to buy him a drink. Might make this all a bit easier. 

Zoro, surprisingly, seems receptive to that. A devilish grin spreads on his face.

“Well, can't say no to that.” He remarks. He takes a seat at the bar and Sanji joins him, taking in the change in the swordsman’s demeanor. He waves down the barkeep- Zoro orders sake, Sanji asks for gin. Sanji makes goo-goo eyes at the girl the whole time, and tips her far too generously. Zoro rolls his eyes.

Sanji misses that last part. He turns after the woman serving them has left, taking in the other man’s appearance in the warm light of the inn. He can see plenty well in the dark- and the moon had lit much of the forest clearing where they met regardless. But seeing someone in the real, honest, warm abundance of light provided by the lanterns indoors always gave away more than what Sanji’s eyes eked out in the darkness. 

Zoro was handsome. In a rugged, interesting sort of way. But the eager grin on his face definitely changed things. He feels himself start to feel that ebb of attraction that only blooms once someone makes a certain expression, is seen a certain way- seen in a new light, that is. Literally and figuratively, this time.

Well, shit. Maybe he’d go after more than just a bite. He makes a conscious attempt to be less of an asshole from now on.

Their drinks arrive and Zoro’s mood lifts just as quickly. He takes an eager drink and sighs.

“Damn, this is some good liquor.” He comments. 

Sanji smiles. “Damn straight it is. The inn shares inventory with the restaurant I work at down the road. We only order the best.” 

“Restaurant?” Zoro didn't remember seeing a restaurant on this road.

Sanji nods. “The Baratie. My old man's the owner. Though I guess ‘down the road’ is a little misleading…You'll find us at the docks. It's a floating restaurant.” 

Zoro raises an eyebrow. “That's a new one. Why not just set it up in town?” 

“We move around a lot. Go from town to town every few months or so.”

Zoro makes a noise of recognition. He takes another swig of his drink, finishes it. “So how long have you been here?”

“About two months. It's a nice place. Friendly people. Beautiful women.” He finishes off his own drink and eyes Zoro again, pointedly. “Interesting strangers.”

Zoro doesn't seem to care. 

Sanji continues. “What brings you to town, anyway? We don't get many visitors in this area.” 

“On a job.” He says simply. 

“How’d you end up in the woods, then?” 

“I got a little turned around.” 

Obviously. 

Zoro says something else before Sanji can edge in another nosy question. “You ever been to Thriller Bark?” 

Sanji’s a bit taken back by the question. “Mm, can't say I have. I've heard of it, though.” The cigarette he lit on the way here is on its way out. He smashes it in the nearby ashtray.

“Heard anything strange about it?” Zoro queries.

Sanji slides his empty glass away from him, leaning on the bar in front of him. If he was being a bit too nosy to Zoro, the sentiment is now reciprocated. His line of questioning is hitting too close to home.

“I heard they've been having some vampire issues.” He replies, smooth as butter. 

Zoro grunts. “That’s what I heard, too.” He flags down the bartender again, raises his glass for a refill. Sanji cuts in and insists it's added to his tab. Zoro seems surprised, but allows it.

Sanii wants to ask more about the other’s interest in Thriller Bark, but he doesn’t want to get himself too deep into a dangerous conversation, either. For better or for worse, Zoro changes the subject.

“That restaurant you work at, ‘sit cheap?” 

Sanji laughs. “No. It's fine dining. Why, you strapped for cash or something?”

Unfortunately, he was. Not just for this trip- but in general. The only reason he'd taken this job was for the immense bounty it promised- 320 million berries, cash. He needed the money. He was damn near flat broke- and if he had to pay for another night at the inn, he would be- let alone the immense amount he had borrowed from the witch and now owed back tenfold. He had meant to scope out Thriller Bark today, but that had been a dud thanks to his foul luck getting there. 

The bartender sets down another round of drinks for the two of them.

“Well I'm not rolling in the big bucks, if that's what you're asking.” Zoro murmurs, new drink already at his lips.

“They have food here at the inn, too, y’know.” Sanji internally remembers just how hungry he is. His eyes rest pathetically on Zoro’s throat as he speaks.

“They ain’t cheap either.” Murmurs Zoro.

Well, that was a lie. The inn was actually quite fairly priced- food and boarding. Was the guy really that poor?

As he says this, Zoro’s stomach growls. Quiet enough that Zoro doesn’t assume anyone would hear- but Sanji can.

Sanji takes pity on him. Yet again. He sighs. His own hunger will have to wait.

“Well, lucky for you, I won't let anyone go hungry. Why don't you stop in to the restaurant tomorrow and I'll make you something on the house?”

Zoro seems surprised. The blank look on his face is almost cute. It breaks into a grin again when he realizes Sanji is serious.

“I'd be an idiot to turn down free food. Sure, cook, show me what you got.” 

Zeff probably won’t be pleased, but he would do the same thing if it came down to it. The old man will get over it. 

“Chef, thank you.” He furrows his eyebrows at the other, though he does so with a grin. “But of course. Come before we close tomorrow, say, eight o’clock? We’ve usually slowed down by then.”

“Oh, so you really aren’t just one of the waiters?”

That one does make him frown. Mainly because Zeff put him on waiter-duty just the other night after he exploded as a guest. He couldn’t help it if some people thought it was cute to waste food. Then again, he understood Zeff’s anxieties about him- him in particular- making a scene. They’d had to leave some towns faster than others.

“No. I’m not.” He knows Zoro’s teasing, but he feels the need to clarify regardless.

“Uh huh.” Zoro’s shit-eating grin is starting to get old, much as he likes it.

“How long are you even in town for anyway, mosshead ?” He puts special emphasis on the nickname after Zoro’s waiter comment. He briefly remembers he’s supposed to be charming the man- but damn, he makes the teasing back and forth fun.

Zoro glowers at him, but answers nonetheless. “Dunno. Depends on how long the job takes me.”

“And that job is…?” Sanji ventures, for what feels like the millionth time. Getting information out of this man was like pulling teeth, but he has a feeling he’s chipped him down a bit with the good deeds of both saving his ass and buying him a couple rounds. One of which Zoro seems to value more than the other- and not the correct one.

“After a bounty.” Zoro says simply. Ah, finally- a breakthrough.

“Sounds interesting.” Sanji replies, without much thought. Then his eyes again find their way to the swords strapped to Zoro’s side once more and a realization comes to him. The word ‘bounty’ replays over again in his head. No way. Was this guy…?

“Yea, well, I’m a bounty hunter. Not that interesting when it’s just my every day.”

Sanji’s eyes are still glued to the swords when his blood runs cold. Fuck- this dude was a hunter. “Bounty Hunter” and “Vampire Hunter” were borderline synonymous with one another on the Grand Line. And if it wasn’t vampires, it was something else, but turning a vampire’s head in to the Marines was always a guaranteed couple thousand berries, wanted or not. He feels stupid for not putting the pieces together earlier- all the interest in Thriller Bark, the swords, the aloof traveler’s demeanor…At least Zoro hadn't returned the favor. 

“Yea I…guess that’s true.” Sanji fervently downs the rest of his second drink. He will not be courting this man. He will also not be sucking his blood. In fact, this entire night feels like a bit of a bust. From the back of his mind snakes the glaring thought that he’s already arranged for a second meeting.

“I’m heading to my room for the night.” Zoro says all of a sudden, standing up and placing a steadying hand to his swords. “Thanks for the drinks. I’ll take you up on that offer for dinner tomorrow.” He says, then realizes it vaguely sounds like a date. Eh, whatever, the guy knows what he means. He gives a simple wave and heads up the stairs at the side of the inn without any extra theatrics.

Sanji is left lurking at the bar stool, wondering half-heartedly if Zoro will manage to get lost on the way there tomorrow, thus saving him from possible eradication.

Chapter Text

When Sanji gets back to the Baratie that night, climbs up the stairs to the loft above Zeff’s, the old man grumpily calls for him when he attempts to pass by without a greeting.

Sanji sighs and climbs back down. “What is it, ya old geezer?”

Zeff is already in bed, sitting up in his old man pajamas and his nightcap (which, true to form, is just as tall as his chef hat.)

“You find yourself somethin’ to eat?”

Sanji feels embarrassment turn in his gut along with the hunger that he’s reminded of. 

“Not tonight. I’ll find something tomorrow. Don’t worry yourself sick over it.”

Zeff makes a frustrated noise. Sanji winces in the dark.

“I know I said to keep a low profile, but I didn’t say starve yourself. If you can’t find some poor drunk bastard in town then at least go catch an animal in the forest.”

Sanji hated it when he did this. His fully human, adopted father, attempting to coach him on how to be a vampire. When he was nine, it was kind of endearing. Now in his early twenties, it’s embarrassing, and marginally bizarre. 

He waves the old man off before bidding him goodnight. Zeff’s still yelling something at him when he closes the door to the attic loft and cuts him off. It doesn’t feel good, but he really isn’t in the mood at the moment. He should probably have told Zeff about the hunter as well, but he’s embarrassed about getting himself into that situation, too.

Fingers still crossed that Zoro never makes it to the restaurant, and he can leave this all behind him after a few days of lying even lower than usual. 

—

Zoro makes it to the restaurant.

He shows up around seven, even earlier than Sanji was expecting, and they’re still in the tail end of the dinner rush. Sanji’s cooking, but occasionally running out food, and it’s the moment he spins around a table for two and drops off their entrees that he spots Zoro, looking completely out of place by the front door. He isn’t even standing- he’s leaning with his arms crossed against the front wall like a delinquent. He looks the very picture of a bad attitude. Sanji sighs, turning on his heel to save their poor maître d' from his attempt at politely shooing Zoro out. 

“Oi, marimo!” He calls.

Zoro’s eye catches his own. That’s a new nickname. 

Zoro frowns. He doesn’t like this one either.

“You’re early.” Sanji says.

“Got hungry.” Zoro replies.

Sanji sighs, what he assumes will be the first of many tonight.

He ushers him to a smaller table by the back corner, one that is miraculously available despite the buzz of dinner time. Zoro flops down into the chair unceremoniously. He takes the menu and squints at it.

“What language is this in?”

“It’s in English, moron. It’s just the dishes that are in French.” The insult came out a little too easily. He’s grateful Zoro seems to have categorized it as their dynamic, at this point.

“Yea, well, I don’t know what the heck half this stuff is.”

Sanji takes the menu from his hands and places it under his arm, along with the tray he’s holding. “I’ll make you something you’ll like, trust me. Just sit here and be a patient houseplant.” Sanji grins, heading back to the kitchen. Zoro flips him off as he goes, but internally, he’s still grateful for a free meal. Grating as the cook was.

Sanji slips back into the kitchen and gets to work. Zeff’s at the front of the line at the moment- hopefully he’ll stay that way while he cuts up some spare seafood for the risotto he plans to make. 

He has an aching feeling that Zoro hasn’t eaten since he saw him yesterday. The man is moving slower than he should be with that physicality, and his movements are the slightest bit shaky. Only someone with senses like his own would notice- but it’s a telltale sign of hunger. He’d been lucky enough himself to find a rabbit this morning- and up until then he’d been silently praying his fangs weren’t becoming too visible as they tended to do on the far end of a dry spell.

“Oi, Eggplant. No one ordered the risotto.” Zeff’s voice cuts into his thoughts. Ugh, he’d been caught.

“I know. I’m making sure one of our local travelers doesn’t shrivel up and die.” He tries for casual. Zeff glares at him anyway. 

“You’re gonna put me out of business if you keep up like that.” Zeff says. Contrary to his words, he hobbles over to the door leading out into the dining room and peaks out the window. He chuckles.

“Heh. That scarred-up kid at table nine? He looks about your age.”

“Yea, maybe. Why’s it matter?”

“Just glad you’re making friends, Eggplant.” Zeff’s words are teasing, though deep down he’s probably hopeful they’re true.

“He ain’t my friend, shitty geezer. Just some asshole I found lost in the woods last night.”

Zeff quirks a brow at that. Shit, he’s said too much.

“Found out in the woods? That’s strange, innit?” He says airily. If Patty and Carne weren’t around, he’d probably dig into him more. Sanji’s vampirism was the worst kept secret of the Baratie staff, but they’d all like it to stay that way.

Sanji stirs the seafood into the rice and quietly wills the conversation to end. Luckily, it does. Zeff takes a quick judgemental glance at the risotto before heading back to the front to supervise something one of their newer line cooks is working on.

He breathes a sigh of relief and loads the dish up onto a plate. He debates what to get the other man to drink- he probably should’ve asked, but he was in a bit of a rush. He seemed to like alcohol well enough. Probably shouldn’t give him one of their more expensive reds- but a cheaper wine should do.

He pours a glass and shimmies out to the floor again. Zoro is waiting surprisingly patiently at his table. When Sanji pops out, he brightens. The thinner man strolls across the sleek black tile until he makes his way in front of the green-haired idiot.

“Bon Appétit.” He says, placing the meal in front of the other. Zoro’s face doesn’t betray much, but by the way his body relaxes Sanji can tell he’s impressed. Or at the very least, anxious to dig in.

“Doesn’t look too bad.” He drawls. “Not the biggest wine fan, though.” 

Sanji crosses his arms. “Uh huh. I don’t think you’re in much of a position to complain, considering I provided this out of the goodness of my heart.”

“Sanji! Zeff wants you back in here.” Patty calls. They both turn, and Sanji waves him off with a ‘yeah, yeah, I’m comin’.  He turns back to Zoro.

“Enjoy. Feel free to head out whenever you’re finished. Provided you can make it back to the inn.”

Zoro gives him another finger for that one, but Sanji’s glad to take it and walk away. All his obligations to the man are now complete. Hopefully he ‘ll finish his meal within the hour, head back, and finish his job in Thriller Bark before Sanji gets tired of woodland creature cafeteria food. Provided he doesn’t just get lost in a ditch somewhere before that. 

He rejoins the kitchen staff and busts out the next fifty dishes or so before Zeff is hounding him to take a break. Which is odd. Because Sanji’s already taken his break for the night, like he always does- a quick smoke on the back deck. He tells Zeff as much. Zeff sighs. His boy was dense, wasn’t he?

“Go take a break with your swordsman friend. He looks pathetic.”

Sanji stops. Surely he isn’t still out there, is he? It’s been over an hour.

Carne leans in next to him. “Just do it, Sanj. Zeff’s not gonna leave you alone until you do.” Four seas, did Zeff really feel the need to arrange him a playdate that badly? He didn't need friends his age- had Zeff forgotten his little quirk ? Let alone the fact that Zoro was decidedly a bad choice for that exact reason. 

Sanji pathetically looks back and forth, kitchen rag useless in his hands, before throwing it to the counter and stomping back out there. Fine. He’d go. But just to kick the guy out. And maybe have another smoke.

Sure enough, Zoro is right where he left him. His plate is completely clean, and the wine is empty. He perks up once more when Sanji not only comes over, but pulls out the chair across from him and sits.

“You’re still here.”

“You’re still open, aren’t you?”

Cheeky bastard. His visible eye travels back over to the empty plate.

“Enjoy your food?”

“...It was alright.”

“Sure, that’s why you ate all of it.”

“I was hungry.”

There’s a lull in conversation then. Zoro’s just staring off, Sanji’s fighting the urge to light a cigarette at the table and risk one of the other employees snitching on him. He feels a dull numbness, there in the quiet, and realizes he’s felt it before.

His eyes once again fall to those dreaded swords. At least one of them is most definitely cursed. He can tell by the way the one in the center is pulling at him, violent thrumming aimed right at his soul. The dark aura emanating from it is damn near visible. A cursed sword is one way to ensure that any vampire you’ve stabbed is dead, after all. 

“You keep looking at my swords.” Zoro states.

“Why do you have three of them, anyway?” This question is less loaded than his real one.

“ Santoryu. Three-sword style. It’s my method of choice.”

….Ah. That’s a new one. A new way to imagine his own death, that is. Now with three times the blades!

“I see.” He leans on the table and tilts his head a bit. “So, what is this bounty you’re after?”

Zoro is apparently comfortable enough with him now to relinquish more than bare-bone answers. He yanks the wanted poster from his pocket and spreads it over the table.

“Gecko Moria. A vampire not that far from here.” 

Well, at least now he knew the face of the bastard threatening his livelihood over here in Blue Town. Part of him hoped Zoro did kill him. 

Zoro’s voice cuts back into his thoughts. “You should be careful too, you know.” He folds the paper back up. “You could end up in trouble yourself hanging around the forest at night like that.”

Sanji blinks. He supposes his presence in the forest at night was equally as suspicious, wasn’t it. In fact, he was somewhat surprised Zoro didn't have suspicions about him already. Though, he knew why . Sanji's appearance was heavily humanized.

He was born a pureblood, but his mother had taken an elixir meant to turn her children human. It’d only really done anything to Sanji out of the four of them (though in his opinion, it hadn’t done enough.) 

His complexion wasn’t quite as fair, his eyes a human color (most of the time), and his fangs sat quite low- only a bit longer than the average human canine, explainable as a quirk to anyone who might ask. At least until he lengthened them to their full size to feed. It’d also allowed him uninhibited access to the sun- so all in all, the effects had had their perks.

Then again, he wasn’t quite as inhumanly strong as his siblings, and that had certainly led to…its own issues. And the thirst for blood, while halved from that of a normal vampire, was still something he had to contend with. He thanked the gods he still had an appreciation for human food, lest his passion for cooking be wasted- as his father always insisted it would be. And had he been born like his siblings, his father might have had a point, for once in his life. What was the point of a vampire cooking human food? They didn’t need it. And they certainly had no reason to cook for people. But then, he hadn’t been born normal. So the boy had needed something to do. And what else than to cook the food his mother had so loved back when she was human, too, before Judge had changed her?

He realizes he’s been quiet for a bit too long. “I can take care of myself.” He musters, waving Zoro off. Zoro makes an unsatisfied expression.

“Not against a vampire, you can’t. Especially as lanky as you are.”

Lanky?

“I’m the picture of health, thank you.” ‘And you’re preaching to the choir, idiot.’

Zoro thinks for a moment before pulling out a piece of paper and a pen. He scrawls a series of numbers across it and slides it Sanji’s way. 

Sanji looks at it. “Your number?”

“Call me if you run into trouble. Since apparently you go looking for it.”

“That’s your job, actually.”

“You know what I mean. Just take it.”

Zoro, unfortunately, can be quite intimidating when he needs to be. Sanji pockets it reluctantly. If anything, he should probably be giving Zoro his den den mushi number, but he’s working on getting Zoro to leave him alone.

“Fine, fine. But trust me, I won’t be needing it.”

“Psh. You probably couldn’t take a monkey in a fight.”

“Bastard, I bet I could take you in a fight.”

Sanji clamps his mouth shut immediately after the words leave his mouth. Fuck , why did he say that? 

Zoro grins again, for the first time that night. It makes Sanji remember his previous attraction for the briefest moment. 

“I’ll take you up on that, cook.”

Well, shit.

In all fairness, he probably could take Zoro in a fight. In fact, he’s almost sure he can. He just doesn’t want to make a scene. Or risk it, really. But apparently, this is the way it’s gonna be. He looks on the bright side. At least he’ll get to stretch his legs for once. 

“Not tonight, though. In fact, I gotta get back to my shift.” He stands, pushing in the seat in front of him. Never did get to work that cigarette in. 

“Sounds to me like you’re running away.” Zoro teases.

“I’d like to keep my job, thank you.”

Zoro stands then, too. Luckily, it seems to be because he’s finally decided to leave. He kicks his chair back into place and places a hand on his swords. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” Zoro states, before sauntering out the door. Sanji watches him go the whole way.

—

Zoro takes a mental stock of what he’s done so far in the two days he’s been here.

Show up. Get lost. Meet some annoying guy in the woods. Drink. Nearly starve. Set up a playdate for his swords.

And he’s out of money. 

The witch was going to kill him.

He heads down the dirt road of the town from the docks, back towards the main street where his inn is. It’s such a straight shot that even he had managed to make it back and forth fairly easily- though he’d never admit to himself that he probably should’ve taken that cook’s number, too. The damn directions around here made no sense, that was all.

Speaking of the cook, Zoro wondered about him. It was odd to meet someone so late in the night like that- especially a suit-clad cook smoking a cigarette. He reasoned that he had been out there looking equally as strange as well, but at least his profession lended to the odd hangout spot. A cook? What would he need out in the dark of the night of a forest, especially in a place known to be near vampire territory?

Guy must have a death wish. He challenged Zoro to a fight, after all.

Annoying as he was, Zoro didn’t necessarily dislike him. He was witty- Zoro could get behind that. And though he was as lanky as Zoro had said, for some reason, he sensed an odd strength from him. Kitetsu had, too. The sword was pulling at him all night.

Usually, that only happened with supernatural creatures. And meeting someone in the middle of the night like that? Zoro had checked. But he had none of the telltale signs of a vampire- no red eyes or pale skin, no fangs or pointed ears. He’d taken the time to check. His teeth were possibly a little sharper than average, but nothing vamp-like. And his eyes were the most damning- or inconclusive, he supposed. A light ocean blue. 

Zoro reaches his inn and gives the innkeeper a curt nod before heading up to his room. He’d head out to Thriller Bark again in the morning, gather some reconnaissance. Then he’d come back, knock the cook off his feet, and hopefully get another free meal out of the bet- he didn’t have any money left to pay for one. He hadn’t quite figured out how he’d manage the money for another night at the inn, but maybe he could bum it off the cook or find a random vampire to slay for some extra cash. Then he’d spend his last day here taking down Moria.

Yea, that sounded like a plan.

Zoro lays down, head resting on his arms, and falls asleep with a loud snore in the rickety bed.

Chapter Text

When Sanji sees Zoro walk into the Baratie the next evening, he resigns himself to the fact that he won’t be getting rid of this guy anytime soon.

The good news is, he kinda has a crush on him.

Or, is that the bad news?

Regardless, the real good news is that Zoro hasn’t caught on to anything yet, and probably won’t, considering Sanji’s better-than-average disguise. So perhaps hanging around the hunter- while still slightly stupid- wasn’t as dangerous as he’d thought.

He turns his attention back to Zoro. He immediately notices frustration evident on the swordsman’s face.

‘Huh. Wonder what that’s about.’

Zoro doesn’t come all the way in- he props himself up in the same spot by the front podium that he did yesterday. The maître d' doesn’t seem all too thrilled to see him again- he shoots Sanji a pitiful look.

Fortunately, he’d planned for this. He forwent his smoke break so he could spar with Zoro tonight. He pops into the kitchen and lets Zeff know he’s taking his lunch- Zeff gives him a wry smile and waves him off. Sanji does not appreciate his grin.

He crosses the floor and sidles up next to Zoro, who seems a mixture of anxious and tense.

“Woke up on the wrong side of the bed?” Sanji ventures as they step outside.

They exit into the cold night air and Zoro- still only in his thin green robe, doesn’t seem to flinch.

Zoro talks as they make it to the back stretch of docks behind the restaurant. “Still haven’t been able to make it over to Thriller Bark. It’s starting to piss me off.” He grips his swords and turns to Sanji.

“Please tell me you’ll actually be enough of a challenge that I can blow off some steam.”

Sanji scoffs. He’d like to do the same. “Why don’t you come over here and find out?”

Zoro considers asking what the cook plans to use in terms of weapons- but he’s standing tall and giving Zoro a nasty grin that says ‘come at me.’ So Zoro forgoes any formalities. They both make a bit of room between them.

He unsheathes just Shusui and rushes at the cook with his blade behind him. As he goes to swing it down on the blonde, a lightning-quick kick stops the blade in place. Sanji grins a toothy grin.

“Martial arts?” Zoro asks.

“You could say that.”

They clash like this back and forth several more times, all the while each one becoming increasingly more invested in the fight. It was quite fun, actually. Neither of them had had an opponent quite as equally matched to each other in a while.

Zoro bounces back and unsheathes Kitetsu- the sword is screaming at him; it’s eager for Sanji’s blood. Zoro doesn’t actually plan on hurting the man, but he’ll take advantage of Kitetsu’s enthusiasm. He darts at the blonde again, this time with a sword in each hand, though he favors his left where Kitetsu is grasped. He carves hit after hit through the air, and each and every one is blocked by a swift kick of a dress shoe. He can feel the sword getting frustrated- something he begins to mirror in his own chest. It’s fun, and challenging- but he also wants to win, damnit.

He jumps and spins through the air with both his blades, energy swirling from the both of them as he bears down on his target. Sanji doesn’t block this one- instead, he jumps away, bringing a powerful swing down next to Zoro as he does so. The swordsman barely manages to dodge.

In his defense, he’d had nothing but an apple in terms of nutrition today- for the most part, he’s still riding on that rice dish the cook had served him the night prior. Otherwise, he’d turn that mahogany undershirt of the other man’s into a red of a different color.

Sanji takes the opportunity to stop his defense tactics and go on the offensive. He aims a kick at Zoro’s neck- Zoro blocks it at the last minute with his arm. That’ll be bruised tomorrow.

Then the cook is throwing kick after kick at him from the front in a barrage of flying feet that leaves Zoro dizzy. When Sanji bounces away he takes out Wado and places it in between his teeth. That gets an inquisitive look from the cook.

Zoro comes at him with a renewed vigor and the two of them block each other hit for hit until they’re both sweaty, bruised, and panting. They stare at one another from across the way and silently resolve to end it in the next turn.

Zoro prepares to strike with all three swords, his most crushing move. Sanji resists the urge to light his foot aflame- a bit of vampire magic that would surely have him gutted (if Zoro could manage to hit him, that is). Instead, he bends his knees and prepares himself to land on his hands to spin a deadly round of kicks.

Zoro takes a step and lunges; Sanji does the same at a borderline inhuman speed- he can’t help it. But at the last moment there’s a loud crash from the restaurant wall beside them and the two of them both fumble, landing on top of each other in a tangle of legs and swords and frustrated growls.

Sanji’s tucked dangerously close to the swordsman’s throat. He takes a breath and feels his fangs fly free. Zoro doesn’t have sight of his mouth, too distracted groaning as he tries to push the other away- oblivious to his own peril.

Sanji breathes in. Zoro grabs him by the back of his collar. Someone in the Baratie screams.

—

Sanji's nostrils fill with the scent of blood, but it's not Zoro's. He clamps his mouth shut to hide his fangs and pushes himself off of the other just as Zoro goes to do it himself. They both scramble to their feet as Patty's voice shrieks from the door.

“SANJI!”

They're calling for his help.

Splinters of wood are flying from the docks as he starts sprinting back to the restaurant's entrance, Zoro following right behind him. When they fling open the door, the sight that greets them sends them both into a rage.

A vampire has one of the customers bent over a table, blood dribbling down their neck as the creature feeds. Painfully loud sounds of voracious slurping and heavy breaths fill the restaurant. Zeff has gathered most of the staff and the nearby customers behind him, prepared to kick their ass himself- but the man isn’t twenty anymore. The good news is, he’s trained a successor.

Sanji rushes at the vampire and their victim only for Zeff to call out to him almost immediately.

“Eggplant! There’s a second one!”

Sanji simultaneously processes Zeff’s words and turns his head when he catches sight of a vampire hanging limply off the edge of a silver sword. Zoro’s holding up the wheezing soon-to-be corpse of the other vamp from Kitetsu, the cursed blade Sanji felt before. Zoro lets the body slide off his sword without ceremony before mercilessly slicing off the head on the restaurant flooring. Several bystanders gasp and cry out.

No time for that, though. Sanji turns back to his initial target and the two of them meet eyes. The vampire pulls away from the poor man they’re holding, blood and saliva trailing from his neck. Something passes over his face upon the realization that Sanji is like him.

For Sanji’s part, he’s surprised. He very rarely runs into other vampires. It’s not like they were exceedingly rare, especially not on the Grand Line, but he kept to himself, and Zeff tried to choose places that wouldn’t put Sanji in any further danger than usual. Vampire on vampire competition could be quite fierce.

But he’s never seen any attack in public like this, especially in Blue Town. He has half the mind to ask, but aside from not wanting to expose himself, he’s too enraged to do anything but lurch forward and bring a divisive foot to the villain’s head. It hits dead on and the entire crowd is laid witness to the sickening crunch that echoes from the creature’s neck.

“AAGH-” It wails, both clawed hands coming up to brace its head. It twists one way, then the other, then knocks into a wall. Sanji is already advancing on it again, ready to finish the job.

“Master Moria will hear about this!” It says, craning its head at him from in front of a neck that looks akin to a pillowcase full of sticks. It isn’t even angry- it's smiling.

Sanji smashes its head in without a second thought.

After more cries from the audience, hushes murmurs and sighs of relief settle over the Baratie at the realization that the beasts have been slain. Zeff stomps forward with a first aid kid to treat the man attacked. He’ll live, but he’s quickly losing consciousness, stumbling against the table where his blood has spilt across a finely seared steak.

Sanji wishes he could help, too, but the smell of blood is obnoxious and it's already making him sick. He hastens across the floor, slipping out one of the back exits without a second thought to what’s going on around him. When the cold night air hits his face he pinches the bridge of his nose and groans, fangs bared in the solitude of the night.

He hears the door open behind him shortly after. He shuts his mouth and turns, knowing his eyes are likely already turning the slightest bit more amber. He thanks the gods for the low lighting.

Zoro’s there. Sanji is once again overwhelmed with the stench of blood on his sword, though at least this one isn’t human. Zoro wipes the blood off as he comes outside, then sheathes it and walks up next to the cook.

“You alright?”

“No.” ‘But not for the reason you think.’

“...You did good in there. I’ve never seen somebody take down a vampire with their bare hands before. Well…feet, I guess.”

“Yea, well, I’ve never really had to before myself.” He shakes his head, pulling a cigarette from his front pocket and lighting it quickly, trying to minimize the light on his face. “Thanks for watching my back, by the way.”

Zoro nods.

Sanji continues. “I’ve never seen vamps attack in public like this. Let alone in a group.”

“Neither have I. It’s worrying for sure.”

“Did you hear what it said?”

“About Moria? Yeah, I did. Looks like he isn’t working alone.”

Sanji breathes out a puff of smoke between his teeth. “I’m willing to bet he has a whole army of lackeys over there.”

He looks over to Zoro, who’s clearly analyzing something over and over in his brain.

Sanji decides to interrupt.

“You still planning on taking that guy out by yourself?”

He’s surprised by how fast Zoro’s response is. He nods, then looks off into the night, his arms crossed across his chest.

Sanji sighs, smoke flying out along with his breath. “There’s no pride in dying like an idiot. Let me come with you.”

“No. I have to be strong enough to take down Moria myself if I want to reach my goal.”

“And what goal is that?”

“I’m going to be the world’s greatest swordsman.”

That sparks his interest. “The world’s greatest swordsman, huh?”

Zoro nods again.

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

“By defeating the current title holder, obviously. Dracule Mihawk.”

Sanji blinks at him, wide-eyed. “You want to defeat Hawk-Eyes Mihawk? He’s a pureblooded vampire with a sword the size of two of you.”

“I know what he looks like.” Zoro snaps. Then,

“I’ve fought him before.”

Sanji’s eyes widen even further. He leans forward to rest his arms on the railing of the Baratie’s back deck.

“He’s the one who gave me this scar.” Zoro says, gesturing to the nasty valley cut across his chest. He scoffs a laugh. “Bastard licked my blood right off the sword after he did it.”

“I’m surprised he left you alive.”

“He said he saw promise in me. So I just need to keep getting stronger, until I can face him again. And the next time, I’ll win.”

“...Is a dream like that worth dying for?” Sanji asks after a moment’s pause.

“‘Course it is. I guess a guy like you wouldn’t understand.”

“A guy like me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Someone who lacks ambition.”

“Hey, I have plenty of ambition! I have a dream too, ya know.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

That shuts Sanji up pretty quick. But if he doesn’t answer, Zoro will just tease him more.

“...Have you ever heard of the All Blue?”

That night, when the clouds in the sky above move aside just enough to light up Sanji’s face- full of enthusiasm and childlike wonder, a smile grander than the Line they sail on itself- Zoro realizes he does like the cook, after all. Annoying and temperamental, yes, but a spineless bastard without ambition? He’d probably still say such things to the cook’s face to tease him, but now he knows it isn’t really the truth.

He and Sanji spend the rest of the night talking, a pair of unlikely friends sprouting up in an odd corner of the world’s most dangerous strip of ocean. And though a bounty hunter’s life has its ups and downs, this sort of experience is one he finds to be well worth it.

Chapter Text

Sanji wakes up earlier than usual the next morning. It’s his day off at the Baratie, and usually he takes advantage of this fact to sleep in a little- but no dice this morning. The events of last night are still on his mind- including his late night talk with Zoro. The vampire attack- that was terrifying, yes, but not much he could do about it himself. Not unless he were to go slay Moria. And, well, that connects with the other thing on his mind. 

Last night, after Zoro had gotten him gushing about the All Blue (how embarrassing), the hunter had mentioned he’d be leaving for Thriller Bark in the morning. Sanji had offered (insisted) again to come along, but Zoro had denied him, predominantly on the basis that Sanji wasn’t strong enough. That was bullshit for a couple of reasons.

For one, Zoro had already told him the real reason he wanted to go alone: for his pride. His need to be strong enough to become the world’s greatest swordsman, or whatever. But secondly, that was an especially stupid excuse considering Sanji had almost beaten his ass last night. If they hadn’t been so rudely interrupted, he knows he would have won. And he was even holding himself back a bit.

Regardless, Zoro had conned him into some leftovers before unceremoniously heading back to the inn- at least so Sanji presumed. Well, he wasn’t going to let Zoro go to Thriller Bark alone, and that was that. He’d already decided, and there was no changing his mind. Besides, he’d be more of an asset to Zoro than the swordsman could ever know.

He gets up, fixes his hair, trims his beard- checks his eyes, his ears, his fangs. Mm, he should probably be good on blood at least until tomorrow. 

He dons his usual getup of a maroon undershirt, satin inlaid with stripes, under a slick but simple black suit jacket. He pulls on his slacks, checks his appearance once more, and sprays on some cologne. Voila. Ready for a day of…whatever was in store for him. 

He passes by Zeff as he heads down to the first floor. The old man cranes his head over his shoulder as Sanji trots down the stairs. 

“What’d you get all dressed up for, mosquito? Goin’ on a date?” Zeff’s voice is gruff, and he’s trying to sound unamused- but a little bit of humor slips into the end of his question. Sanji, who reads into every word said to him by anyone, ever, does not miss this. 

“I don’t have a date, shitty geezer. I’m going to find that mossheaded swordsman before he gets himself into trouble.”

“...Yea, so, a date, or what?” Now he isn’t even hiding the grin in his voice.

Sanji flips him off and keeps walking. 

He exits into the warmth of the sun and smiles to himself. He would always be grateful for the sunlight. There’d never been a time it had bothered him, though he still knew not to take it for granted. He’d received many gifts from the self-sacrifice of his late mother, and he intended to cherish every single one. 

His dress shoes clop against the wood of the dock, tread over the dirt road down the town, and then tap on the wooden floor of the inn. He approaches the barmaid from the other day.

“Hello, my darling Makino. Could you tell me whether that green-haired swordsman that’s been staying here has left for the day already?” He asks sweetly, internally gushing over her pretty black hair and deep brown eyes. She just rolls her eyes with a small smile at his antics- she sees him frequently enough, and yet he’s always like this. 

“Well, I would if I could,” She starts, “But he stopped staying here the night before last.”

Sanji’s reverie breaks. “Huh? That can’t be right, I was with him just last night. You mean he didn’t stay here?”

She shakes her head. “Huh-uh. He told me he didn’t have enough money to pay for another night when I spoke to him last.”

This was the cheapest place in town, so chances are he hadn’t gone elsewhere. What had the idiot gone and done now?

He asks Makino if she has any idea where he might have gone, but she’s just as clueless as he is. Great.

Sanji leaves the inn with spirits slightly dampened. He could call the other man…But that felt desperate, for whatever reason, and he doubted Zoro would even tell him where he was in the first place. 

He ends up back outside, at least grateful for the warmth of the sun again. The sky is clear, and so is the air, so maybe he’ll be able to catch the swordsman’s scent? He sniffs the air.

It makes him feel a little silly.

He doesn’t do it often, because sniffing people out is kind of strange- what is he, a dog? But alas- the circumstances call for it. Depending on how far Zoro went this could be useless, but he’s surprised to pick up hints of Zoro’s scent almost immediately: sweat, steel, and a touch of oak. He’s not far at all. Sanji follows the trail down the road, further into town, down a brick alleyway. He passes old crates and some crude graffiti. The scent of Zoro, no longer isolated, mixes in with the smoke of nearby buildings and the thankfully not-too-pungent smell of trash. 

Zoro is propped up on an old bench, hands behind his head, eyes closed without worry, snoring loudly every now and then as his chest rises and falls. He doesn’t even have a blanket on- not that he looks bothered.

‘Is this guy serious right now?’ Sanji thinks. How reckless. He just has himself sitting out on a silver platter. Sanji briefly wonders what would have happened if a vampire had found him like this- but, well, that is what happened, isn’t it? 

Surely Zoro has some kind of defense mechanism should someone approach him in his sleep? Sanji silently steps forward, eyeing the swordsman’s neck. He reaches his hand down, inches from Zoro’s skin. He radiates warmth. Sanji snaps his fingers a couple times. Nothing. 

“Oi, wake the fuck up.” He kicks the bench roughly. It skirts across the brick ground and vibrates as it hits the alley wall with a jostle. Zoro jolts awake, his good eye blown wide in shock. His hands are immediately on his swords when he processes what he’s looking at. 

Sanji speaks again before Zoro can manage it. “You’re an idiot for sleeping out in the open like that. We literally watched someone get their throat torn out just last night- shouldn’t you know better, oh great hunter?” Sanji sneers obnoxiously. 

Zoro rights himself and leans over, one hand on his knee and the other rubbing at his neck. Yeowch, he’s sore. Maybe sleeping like that was a bad idea. 

“It’s fine.” He rumbles. “I would’ve woken up if I sensed danger.”

‘Bullshit.’ “You didn’t wake up when I got here.”

“Yea? And you aren’t dangerous. If a vampire showed up, I would have noticed. Swords would have, too.”

The dramatic irony in Zoro’s words is almost funny. Almost. As for Zoro’s swords, Sanji looks back to the cursed red sheath and curiously notes that though it still drags at him, the pull isn’t as strong as it was last night. Perhaps its bloodlust was quenched by Moria’s lackey.

“What are you even doing here? You stalkin’ me or something?” Zoro interrogates, still trying to fix the crick in his neck. He’s grumpy and suspicious- a lovely combination. 

“Since you’re apparently unable to find food for yourself, I thought I’d bring some breakfast to you at the inn. Makino said you didn’t stay there last night, so I thought I’d look around. Sure enough, found some moss growing on a bench.” He lies. It’s a good thing he has a silvertongue- he hadn’t even considered explaining how he found him.

Zoro makes an arbitrary sound. He stretches and Sanji wrinkles his nose.

“You reek.”

“I slept next to a dumpster. What do you expect?”

“Ideally? To tell me before you decide to rough it in the elements.”

“I’m not gonna ask a guy I’ve known for two days if I can crash at his place. ‘Specially not one as annoying as you.” He sticks a finger in his ear, wiggling it around. 

Sanji just rolls his eyebrows. “Are you still planning on heading to the town over?”

Zoro nods.

He crosses his arms. “I’m coming with you. Since you apparently can’t be trusted to make decisions on your own, either.”

“What are you, my fucking mom?”

“Thank fuck I’m not, I’d stress about your green ass every second of the day.”

Zoro shakes his head and stands with a grumble, collecting his bag and his swords. “Fine. But only ‘cause I’m just doing recon today.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

He swipes at Sanji as he walks by, but Sanji dips his head out of the way and smirks. He follows Zoro out of the alley, who heads to the left.

“Oi, mosshead, Thriller Bark’s this way.” He’s hovering by the entrance to the alley.

Zoro doesn’t even turn around. “ Yea, but the inn’s this way. I want breakfast first.” 

Shit, Zoro’s gonna catch him in a lie. Of course he chooses now of all times to actually know where he’s going. He whips up another white lie. “Since you weren’t there, I gave it to Makino. C’mon, we’ll just pick something up on the way.”

Zoro turns around with his perpetual frown. “With what money?”

Sanji feels a surprisingly good-natured smile on his face. “I’ll pay for you, stupid, just come along.” Damn his fickle heart. Why’d he have to fall for the meanspirited brute with no depth perception? Zoro retraces his steps to join him at his side, and the two begin their journey to the forest in the east.

—

Zoro’s swords are confusing him.

When he’d first arrived in the area, Kitetsu and Shusui had both become abuzz with restlessness. Shusui had simply wanted to destroy- probably sensing the unrest that Moria had caused in the area and yearning to join in. Kitetsu, cursed as it was, was bloodthirsty as ever- especially for something supernatural. It had similarly craved spilt blood- though, to be fair, Kitetsu always wanted that. Wado, ever neutral, had been fairly quiet since he got here, like she always was. 

But then he’d met the cook in that forest clearing. Kitetsu, both that first night and the last, had hated him. The cursed sword was half the reason he’d double-checked Sanji’s human features. It wanted to cut into Sanji, hard and deep, his blood running down onto that similarly red hilt. But now, as he and Sanji walk through that very same forest towards Thriller Bark, its cries for carnage are relatively muted. What had changed? 

Even more worrying- Shusui. He had shut up into a dull sort of contemplation; something akin to suspicion and analysis. That felt out of character for the usually straight to the point blade. 

But most worrying was Wado. His most cherished sword, his timeless partner, the very essence of Kuina’s memory- She who was almost always silent beside him- was…pleased? That wasn’t right. Wado Ichimonji did not have emotions, not like Shusui or Kitetsu. She was straight-laced, noble, and impartial. But now she seemed fucking pleasant.

Zoro sneaks a glance at the cook’s head in the comfortable silence that’s fallen between them. 

The cook is pretty, but that’s about all that sticks out to him. Is there something he’s missing? 

“Say, Zoro.”

“Hm?”

“Is there anything else about vampires I should know? You know, since we’re walking into their territory and all.”

For whatever reason, Sanji seems to find this question a laughing matter. There’s a stupid grin on his face as he asks, like he’s teasing him. Maybe he is. Zoro can’t tell anymore. The man’s a walking annoyance that he had begrudgingly accepted to be his only friend- or… acquaintance , while he’s here. 

“Sure. What do you wanna know?” Joke he isn’t in on or not, he doesn’t mind using it as an excuse to give him some actually helpful advice. If Sanji understands the threat, that’s less work he’ll have to do later.

“Just what it is that makes them so dangerous, I suppose.”

“Lots of things. Their strength and speed are both superhuman, so you have no chance of outrunning them and even less of fighting back if they catch you. But half of that doesn’t matter anyway, since nowadays they mostly either ambush people or seduce them.”

Well, he wasn't wrong. “‘Cause they appear human, you mean?”

“Uh huh. But they’re not hard to spot up close, which is why it’s stupid how often it happens…” He sounds annoyed.

“And how do you tell? Fangs, right?”

“Do you not know anything? How have you survived this far?”

Sanji shrugs and tries not to smile.

Zoro shakes his head and continues, swatting a tree branch out of the way as they walk that nearly swings back and hits Sanji in the face. 

“Fangs, yea, but sometimes they’re hard to see. Pointy ears and unusual eye colors are a telltale sign too.”

“And they have superior senses as well, yea?”

Zoro nods. “Eyes like a hawk, nose like a bloodhound.”

Sanji feels almost like he’s being complimented, but Zoro doesn’t exactly sound pleased.

“...Scary combination.” He says, testing the air.

Zoro makes a bare-minimum noise in response.

The air between them is silent again for a few more minutes, perhaps awkwardly so on Sanji’s end. He can assume Zoro would prefer not to chat, but he can’t tell if Zoro knows he does. He sees a sign at the end of the forest path indicating Thriller Bark to be ahead. He’d like to ask this question while they’re still alone.

“So what made you decide to become a bounty hunter?”

Zoro doesn’t turn. “Needed money.”

“...And there weren’t any less-dangerous jobs around town you could have taken?”

“I didn’t start out as a bounty hunter. I left my village to begin my journey as a swordsman. Bounty hunting was something I picked up on the road to make money. It just so happened to also be good for practicing my skills.”

He says it so coldly. Sanji shivers a bit. 

“So…no tragic backstory where vampires ransacked your village or anything, then? Just convenience?”

Zoro scratches his head. It’s an odd question. “Yea, guess so. But it’s not like I don’t dislike them. They’re monsters that drink people’s blood. I don’t have any ill will towards ‘em, but I also don’t care. I hunt whatever needs hunted. Vampires, werewolves, demons…People.” He shrugs.

People? Zoro had taken bounties on other people? Even Sanji had never killed a human. This man had more to him than he’d initially thought.

“Well would you look at that.” He turns at the sound of Zoro’s voice picking up again. The swordsman looks to Sanji with a grin, nodding at the scene ahead of them.

They’ve exited the forest, now on a winding dirt path through a marshy field- and at the end, a few hundred feet away, stands the gate to Thriller Bark. 

Its once gold fencing has become dinged up and dirty over time. The gate is left hanging open, leading into a town somewhat gloomy and covered sparsely with fog. Zoro and Sanji pass a look between each other before moving ahead.

“I swear, this is the way I tried to come the first time…” Zoro murmurs under his breath, much to Sanji’s entertainment.

When they make their way into the city, the dark cobblestone path leading through the open road is thin with people. An odd merchant cart, a business with the door propped open, a water fountain half dry- all set up around the path, though the place looks as if someone has cut the total population in half. Of the few residents nearby when the two walk in, several give them odd glances before hurrying away.

“...Well isn’t this place full of sunshines and rainbows?” Sanji scoffs. He pulls a cigarette out and lights it with a steady hand. Zoro looks around and spots a woman who hasn’t fled yet, though from her anxious glances, she’s definitely considering it. 

He begins stomping over to her with what he assumes is a neutral expression, but she grabs her cart of fruit and begins pushing it away with a fright when he starts moving her way. Zoro stops and momentarily feels offended. He’s about to chase after her with a renewed irritation when a cool hand finds its way to his shoulder.

“Oi, mosshead. These people are going through a living hell right now. I really doubt they wanna talk to strangers.” He says cooly, smoke lazily drifting from the cigarette between his lips. 

Zoro knows he’s right, but he’s still irritated. “How are we supposed to help them if they don’t talk to us?” He hisses, squinting in the direction of a man nearby who’s suddenly very interested in the newspaper. Sanji’s grip tightens, then a whole arm is linked over his shoulder, pulling him along.

“Come on, let’s head inside somewhere.”

Zoro allows himself to be guided to the nearest building, a small gothic bookstore with the door propped up on an old rock. Sanji releases him once they’re inside.

It’s crowded. Every inch of the small room they enter into is either book or bookshelf. Ceiling-length shelves line the walls, and tall standalone shelves make aisles through the rest of the room, though beside even those are stacks of books on top of one another. The spaces between are just big enough to fit through. 

“What are we doing in a bookstore?” Zoro asks, hands in his pockets. He’s not interested in books.

“Mostly to get out of sight so you would stop freaking people out.” Sanji says with a low-effort glare. “But, didn’t you also say you wanted to get some information? Books are knowledge and all that.”

“I don’t have time to read a book. I meant recon as in talking to people. I wanna ask them about Gecko Moria.”

A shrill laugh comes from surprisingly close by. Sanji looks up from the book he’s grabbed on mermaids; Zoro turns his head with another displeased expression. Is someone listening in on them? 

They turn the corner at the end of the aisle and peer around to find a hollowed out space where a counter and a cash register sit, books and odd items still cluttered around the empty space presumably used to check out customers. An old woman sits behind it, bifocal glasses making her eyes seem a few sizes too big.

“You boys are looking to find out more on Moria?” She asks, voice lilting with interest. She obtrusively eyes Zoro- scrutinizing briefly his hair and eye, then lingering on his scars, his hands, his swords. She does the same to Sanji, though she hesitates on almost every part of his body, squinting. Finally, she grins again. Neither of them like this.

“Uh…Yes, we are.” Sanji relinquishes. He steps forward against his own judgement, pulling Zoro along with him. “What do you know?”

She laughs again. “ What do I know ?” Zoro and Sanji look at each other as she continues to snicker. “You two must be new to town. I’m the local expert on all things inhuman. Sit, sit.” She says, gesturing to a pair of rickety mismatched chairs tucked against a bookshelf behind them.

Zoro crosses his arms. “No thanks. We won’t be here long. Just tell us what you know about Moria and we’ll be on our way.” 

She sighs. “Fine, have it your way. Though, I should tell you, going after vampires is quite dangerous…” She says with a jeer.

Zoro takes the bait. “I’m aware.” She looks at Sanji again. He can feel her picking him apart.

“...Moria is an interesting case.” She begins, changing her posture. “He isn’t a pureblood, yet he’s almost as strong as one. He wasn’t changed naturally, either, though. He turned himself into one with the help of his henchman Hogback, the sorcerer.”

They both perk up at her words. That’s…actually quite compelling information, right off the bat. “What do you mean, he turned himself into one ?”

“I’d like to know the specifics of it myself. But it was a combination of Moria’s own mad-science with the surgical and magical additions of Hogback. Truly a frightening notion.”

Sanji swallows. Yes…It is.

Zoro steps forward. “So he turned himself into one, so what? We already knew he was a vampire. What about his henchmen? His army?”

“Well, I’d say it’s a bit bigger of a deal than you let on. This could mean terrible things should he try to spread it. And with the power of a pureblooded vampire all without the hassle- Tch. You know, several of the most prominent pureblood families will likely be watching him now as well. The family Dracule, the family Vi-”

“I don’t care about the others. What about Hogback? Is he a threat?”

She glares at him, annoyed. “Yes. So is Absalom, the ghoul, and Mistress Perona, the Banshee. All are under his command and with great power in their own rights. To even approach Moria you’d surely have to face each of them first.”

Great. Just what he wanted to hear.

“And as for his army- He is working on one, certainly. The vampire attacks in town haven’t been from Moria alone. He’s been sending zombies and vampires into town since he set up shop here a few months ago. That’s why everyone is so on edge.”

“And is that why the townspeople freaked out when we came into town?” Zoro asks. “We don’t look like zombies, do we?”

Something passes over her face as he asks this. She looks to Sanji and something sparkles in her eye, like she’s saying something to him in just that look. He crosses his own arms, closing himself off as best he can. She knows, somehow. He can tell. He doesn’t sense her to be a witch of some kind, just human- but somehow, from looking at him, she knows.

“...No, you don’t.” She smiles smoothly. 

Zoro, despite the valuable information she’s given them, grows impatient with her attitude. He sighs dramatically and grabs Sanji by the arm, pulling him back towards the exit. Sanji is still staring at the old woman with wide eyes as they go. 

Zoro throws up a hand as they exit. “Thanks for the info, old wench.” He pushes Sanji out in front of him and then slams the door behind them.

Sanji takes a few moments to process as they pop back out onto the streets of the city. “Oi, that was rude!” He scolds, slapping Zoro’s hand off of him.

“She was annoying.”

“So are you!”

They let the useless argument die there as they head further into town, towards the town square, in search of more information. More vendors are spread out here selling goods like produce, meats, leather, clothes. Sanji feels the Berry he brought along with him burning a hole in his pocket. It wouldn’t hurt to get some ingredients while he’s in a larger city with more variety, would it? As much variety as they can manage considering the current state of the town, that is.

“Hey, you still buyin’ us lunch? I’m starving.”

Ah. He’d forgotten about that. “Yea, of course. What sounds good?” 

The both of them take this opportunity to look for any street food or readymade vendors. There’s only a couple, it seems like- a sausage truck and a dingy-looking soup cart. They simultaneously head for the sausage place. 

While Zoro orders kielbasa, Sanji spots blood sausage on the menu and bites his lip in trepidation. Would it look suspicious if he bought some? I mean, humans ate it too, didn’t they? When the man in the window looks his way he says fuck it and orders some anyway. Zoro immediately gives him a disgusted look.

“What are you, a fuckin’ vampire?”

“Don’t joke about that here! Blood sausage is a delicacy your unrefined taste buds probably can’t understand.” He sneers, snatching it from the food stall worker when he hands it out to him amidst their argument. Zoro takes his kielbasa with equally as much vigor. Sanji shakes his head and pays the poor man witness to their feuding with a slight tip. 

They find a bench nearby to eat at. Zoro speaks with his mouth full.

“...Is it really that good?”

Sanji looks over, choosing to ignore his poor table manners. He watches Zoro curiously. “...Wanna try it?” He holds it out to the swordsman. Surprisingly, Zoro tears off a bit and plops it right into his mouth.

“...It’s weird.” He says, then swallows. “But not awful, I guess.” 

Sanji grins. “Told you so.” He takes another bite. Then he notices that Zoro has bits of food on his cheek. He seems either oblivious, or completely content with the mess. Sanji just stares at him and sighs with defeat.

“You know, you’d be pretty handsome if you just carried yourself with less…of that.” He says, gesturing.

“You just gestured to all of me.” Zoro deadpans in response. Sanji smiles a somewhat mischievous smile, shrugging with a single shoulder. Zoro’s caught off guard. A backhanded compliment, yes, but the cook thought he was handsome? That…did bring him pause, for whatever reason. Shit, he better not end up falling for this idiot. He’d already been overthinking the sentiments he got from his swords- he didn’t need to like him any more than he already had begun to- all of which was against his own will.

“Yea, well, I could say the same to you.” Zoro decides on in response. He’s pleased with the ambiguity of his equally backhanded compliment/insult. Sanji just tilts his head and coos.

“Aw, you think I’m handsome, mosshead?”

Zoro blushes and hates it. “You fucking wish.” He gives Sanji the finger and finishes his stupid hunk of meat. 

—

After their short lunch, Sanji allows Zoro to go ask around the town while he buys up some specialty local pumpkins with the last bit of his Berry. While Zoro swaggers off to some already uncomfortable-looking townsfolk, Sanji heads right to the produce stand he’d been eyeing earlier. Though, he does watch a bit longer than he needs to as Zoro heads off. The way his hips move to balance out the weight of his swords is just a little too unfair.

He tries to remind himself that Zoro, the vampire hunter, is off-limits, and probably wouldn’t like him back even if he were human, considering their capricious dynamic as it is. But Sanji’s a romantic at heart, and he’s a dreamer, too. Not always the kindest combination to his already anxiety-ridden, over-analyzing mind- but it’s who he is.

He’s been staring at these pumpkins a little too long. The stall owner is probably getting suspicious.

Despite not actually paying any attention while he looked them over, he grabs the first two he sees so as not to take up any more of their time. They seem to relax a little. They note his discerning eye- whether because he actually picked some nice ones or because he took long enough that they feel the need to say it. As they shove the small pumpkins into a paper bag, they seem hesitant. Finally, they hold the bag up but not out to him, meeting his eyes with a nervous countenance.

“Excuse me, but…May I ask you something?” 

Sanji nods, reassuring them kindly- though he swears to all four seas that if yet another person questions his humanity today, he might start biting. Or kicking, at the least.

“How did you two get into town?”

Well that’s not the question he was expecting. 

“...Pardon?”

“I mean, with the enchantment and all. How did you find your way to Thriller Bark?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand. What enchantment?”

A flash of surprise goes over the vendor’s face, then maybe…relief? “Oh, you didn’t know? Gecko Moria put an enchantment on the town once he took it over…It makes it so that the forest just outside of town becomes like a maze for humans, impossible to make it through unless you’re some kind of supernatural. But…you both look human to me.”

Sanji tries to process this while he answers. “We are! I…I have no idea how we made it in, then. I mean, we just walked…” He feels himself start to sweat as he says it. “Is that why everybody looked at us weird when we came in?” He asks. The salesman nods. 

Fuck. He really hopes no one tells Zoro this. Shit. He needs to go get the idiot. The salesman once again interrupts his thoughts.

“Well, it works both ways, so I hope you don’t have any trouble getting home. It’s a miracle you two made it in here at all. Though, staying in town probably isn’t much safer…” They hand him over the bag of pumpkins and Sanji drops the Berry into their hand. 

“Yea, I guess we’ll see…Thanks for the info. And the produce.” He says, giving them the best grin he can before hurriedly crossing the cobblestone to where Zoro is chatting it up with an older man with a beard, one of the rare people who seem bold enough not to be intimidated by Zoro’s…everything. The old man, despite Zoro’s displeased expression, babbles on with a matter of fact grin. 

“-won’t be back until the day after tomorrow, at least. ‘Course, it don’t make much of a difference for us. ‘S not like he took his vampires with him. We’ve still been attacked nearly every night. Then again, I’m getting too old to be scared of dying anymore…”

Sanji steps up next to Zoro’s side as the old man finishes his rant. He looks to Zoro with an expectant raise of his eyebrow. 

“He says Moria won’t be back for at least two more days. So even if we want to go kick his ass right now, there’s no chance.”

Sanji isn’t sure how to feel about that information. He wasn’t planning on fighting Moria today, and he didn’t think Zoro was, either- but he wouldn’t be surprised if the man had changed his mind towards impulsive violence. Either way, he’d like to go back to Blue Town as soon as possible. He nods a thank you at the old man and tugs Zoro away, back towards the entrance to town.

“That’s probably a good thing, isn’t it? It’s getting late. It’s better to fight vampires during the day anyway, right?”

Zoro makes an unhappy noise, but doesn’t disagree. He allows Sanji to guide him back towards the gate, hand resting casually on Zoro’s waist, though both of them soon become aware of it. 

Zoro’s about to comment on it when someone behind them screams.

“Zombies!”

Chapter Text

The two of them separate quickly, turning on their heels to look at where the sound has come from. It’s not far from where they just were- the old man is hopping off his crate and hobbling as fast as he can with a cane and a limp towards shelter. Behind him, from an alley, pours a small crowd of the undead- human in appearance save for the unmistakable paleness of a corpse, the occasional stitch mark or missing bit of skin- bones and rot exposed and unabashed. 

They glance between each other and wordlessly hop into action.

There’s between fifteen to twenty of them. They’re not fast, but they can walk and stagger as quickly as a light jog- more than you’d expect. They’re already spreading out across the square, dangerously close to some of the slower residents with nowhere to hide. 

Sanji spots his vendor friend fallen on the ground a few feet away from the pumpkin cart and sprints forward faster than a human should be able to- though he doesn’t think anyone will complain. He brings his leg up and kicks the zombie across the cheek, their head flying clean off to clang into a far-off trashcan. He had…not meant to behead them. He supposed zombies would be more partial to falling apart, wouldn’t they? He ensures the pumpkin salesman is alright, helping them up and towards an open door that ushers them inside.

He turns around and finds two more approaching. He takes them both out with ease- one the same as the first, the other kicked away but still alive. He pursues it, kicking it once in the stomach, twice in the neck, and then once more in the head until the creature stops moving. He kicks it once more for good measure and then turns to see how Zoro is faring.

He’s surrounded by at least seven of the damn things, and though his face is dark it is not fearful. In fact, through the hard set focus on his face Sanji sees a fiery gleam in the cold grey of his eye. He has yet to see Zoro fight properly- he doesn’t count fighting him himself, he can’t observe fully when he’s up close and personal with it. But here, twenty feet away and with eyes on the whole scene, he realizes he was likely right to fear for his safety upon first meeting the man.

Zoro has tied his bandana around the top of his head, only that single gleaming eye peeking out from under it. He has all of his swords out, the two in his hands already streaked with blood. It brings him to notice the three unmoving corpses already strewn around Zoro’s peripheral. 

With a quick lunge forward and a near-inhuman clang of steel, bright white cuts appear in the air as all seven of the zombies fall in a single move, some cut cleanly through the middle. Blood spatters across Zoro’s front, over his chest and his face. He sheathes Wado and licks a bit from the corner of his mouth with a demonic grin.

Sanji swallows heavily. His throat feels very dry. Something hot is turning in his gut.

Despite this, he notices the last bit of the horde moving in unison towards Zoro. He brings up his other two swords with an evil smile. As much as Sanji would love to watch him show off some more, he’d like to do a bit more of that himself. He darts forward, then leaps just in front of Zoro, landing on his hands. He brings both of his legs down into the splits and spins into a breakdance from hell as thick black dress shoes knock zombie after zombie into paste, sour blood staining his shoes red. Once the rest of them have been either knocked away or crushed to puree, he swings back onto his feet with a needless flourish. He smirks at Zoro over his shoulder.

“You missed a couple.” He says with a dangerously toothy grin.

Zoro, despite expectations, smirks back. “Show off.” He snickers. Sanji’s smile brightens even more at his response.

The old man from before suddenly hobbles over to them. He pulls harshly on Zoro’s sleeve, who turns to him with an eyebrow raised. “What is it, old man?”

His face is stricken with worry. He shakes his head- “It’s never just the zombies. They always send a vampire to lead them. There’s one nearby; I’m sure of it.” He sounds frightened, despite his earlier ramblings spitting in the face of death. Sanji takes the opportunity to take in the air. …Yes. There is a vampire nearby. He can sense them. He walks off to the town center and feigns looking around to keep up appearances, then focuses in on a dark alley with an overhang, shielded completely by the sun. He darts into it.

The alley is quiet and he doesn’t see a thing yet- but he knows the other vampire is here. He can smell it, he can sense it, and he can hear the slowed heartbeat of the other creature. He looks behind him. Zoro hasn’t followed yet.

“I know you’re in here. Come out.” He hisses. 

A pretty voice laughs in response. A woman slinks out from behind a dumpster- curvy and gorgeous and dressed in a tight blood-red dress. Fuck. Shit.

“You’re interesting.” She purrs. “The sun’s still out, but you’re running around in it like it’s nothing.”

The sun is setting. The greyish gold of a Thriller Bark sunset is already tinting the air. Soon, she’ll be running around in the moonlight, because Sanji can’t kill a woman. Not even a vampiric one. 

“You should leave. I may not fight women, but I can’t stop Zoro from taking you down.”

“You mean the bounty hunter out there cutting up the rest of my zombies like they’re wet noodles? Yes, I noticed him.”

So there were more? No wonder Zoro hadn’t joined up with him yet. That might be a good thing. It might also be a bad thing.

“I really do want to know. How is it you walk around in the sunlight? And your eyes are so blue, too…” She steps towards him, blonde bob of hair swaying. She curls a hand around Sanji’s jaw, caressing her thumb just below his eye. He swallows. 

“It’s a long story.” He bites out.

“I have time.” She whispers into his ear.

He yanks himself back, panting. He is way too easy to work up. She is way too hot to be evil. He has to remind himself for the thousandth time already that she is his enemy. She’s evil. She’s killing innocent people. She works for Moria. She’s…really pretty-

She crosses her legs and leans back against the brick wall of the alley, plush thighs peeking out from under her dress. “You should come work for Master Moria with me. You’d be very useful, what with your very human abilities. And imagine the undercover potential...” She drawls, red lipstick turning up in a small smile.

“No! No. I can’t.” He shakes his head. “I won’t. ” He corrects. 

“Because you’re working with a vampire hunter instead? Pray tell, how did that happen?” She asks with a chuckle, though Sanji can tell she isn’t joking. This woman is curious. She wants his answers. She’ll probably do anything to get them. 

A-Anything?

His head is spinning.

“Long story.” He repeats. That’s a lie- this one is pretty short. She leans forward and wraps a gloved arm around his shoulders, like they’re pals. Her chest presses against his side. He feels a little blood dribble from his nose.

“Again, I have time. In fact, why don’t you come back to the castle with me? If you’re really that secretive, we could always go somewhere…private.” She’s back to his ear. He’s biting his lip so hard he thinks it’s gonna start bleeding. That would be bad, too.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He says with a voice that’s quite unconvincing, despite the fact that he means it. She chuckles. “Don’t want to leave your partner behind? I get it. But surely he knows our kind is predisposed to disappearing acts, right?”

She feels him tense under her embrace. Her eyebrows raise. 

“...He doesn’t know, does he?” She says, leaning in not to taunt him, but out of genuine surprise. Her emerald green eyes widen. Fangs poke out of her lip as she grins a devilish smile. “Why, that’s not very fair to him. Why don’t we remedy that?” Sanji’s heartbeat hammers at her words. No, no-

She bites into her own wrist with a grimace of pain. Then, she holds it out in front of Sanji’s face. Her blood drips directly in front of his mouth, his nose. He groans. He feels his eyes flash red. His fangs are screaming at him in his mouth. Shit. Fuck. Shit. F-

Suddenly, he’s flying through the air.

The woman has punched him square in the chest, launching him not only across the square but into a cluster of carts hurriedly pushed to the edge of it. They splinter apart like a deck of cards with the force he hits them with. Wood and debris fall over him, all but burying him. He hears Zoro call out his name- well, what might as well be his name at this point- ‘Cook.’ He hears the clang of steel and the sound of bodies hitting the ground. The zombies, he presumes. He looks up. The sun has gone down, now. It’s dark. The woman can move as she pleases. He secretly hopes she does, engages Zoro in a fight so he can lay here, lay here and will the symptoms of bloodlust to scram from his fucking face. He groans and covers his eyes with his arm. …That hurt. That would have killed a normal person. In Zoro’s mind, this should have killed him. In Zoro’s mind, he’s probably dead.

In reality, the green-haired man finds himself staring into the alley, rage growing as he spots the conniving figure leaning against its entrance. He hears Zoro’s footsteps retreat. They’re heading towards the alley he just flew out from.

He has a terrible headache. It’s a combination of the hunger and the collision, he knows. But he needs to get up. He needs to get up and help Zoro. 

But maybe…Maybe if he takes a quick nap, all of it will be over when he wakes up. Yea, that sounds good. A quick…nap.

—

Sanji wakes up to the sound of something crashing into the wood next to him. He gasps awake, sitting up, wood falling from his head and chest. He instinctively checks himself- he’s human…enough. He’s pale, and his ears are probably looking elvish under his hair, but if he can just will his fucking eyes to stay blue, he might be able to fake it. He looks beside him. Zoro is lying there. Shit.

“Zoro!? Fuck, are you alright?” His voice is hoarse. Zoro groans. Either Zoro’s inhumanly strong himself, or she knocked him here from much closer. He sits up. 

She’s just a few feet away, looking roughed up and irritated. She looks surprised to find Sanji peering back at her instead of Zoro. 

“My my my, if it isn’t Mr. Sunshine. You’re stronger than I thought.” 

He grimaces. He does not like this woman. Not in any way that matters, anyway.

Zoro sits up beside him, bleeding but surprisingly conscious. He stands, one hand propped up on his knee, and rights himself. He’s much sturdier than should be expected of a man just thrown ten feet away. He begins walking forward to face the woman again. Then he pauses. 

“You coming, cook?”

Sanji blinks. He stands, wobbles, then looks from her to Zoro. Zoro finally turns around and meets his eyes. “Well?” He asks again, impatient.

“I don’t fight women.” Sanji says. Zoro stares at him in indignation. “Are you fucking serious, pretty boy?”

He crosses his arms. “I don’t! I refuse!”

Zoro growls as he turns back around. She’s still watching Sanji with a grin. He doesn’t trust her. After a moment of consideration, he rolls up his sleeves and steps up next to Zoro with a scowl. 

“I won’t hit a woman…But if you want support, I’ll still have your back.” 

That seems to placate Zoro, at least for now. He turns back to the vampiric woman before them with a shit-eating grin. “I don’t need it, but I guess your ‘ support’ will make this end faster.”

He rushes towards her with his swords bared once again, swiping once, twice, her lightning-fast movements dodging them both. When they land again she swipes a clawed hand at Zoro as he swings a miss near her- she barely misses him herself. Zoro turns the moment his motion ends and aims again for her throat. She spins around and kicks his sword out of his hand. The black blade is sent twirling through the air, before it comes to land in the ground with a harsh thwick . Shusui is gone. Wado is still sheathed. Kitetsu is all that remains. 

He eyes the dark blade sticking out of the cobblestone. That’s gonna be hell to sharpen again later. 

Now down a sword, Zoro retreats, circling her to put some distance between them. She lets him do so for only a few short moments before darting after him again. Sanji steps between them, catching her hand. She sneers at him and kicks him aside- which he stupidly allows. Zoro mentally curses the idiot, but at least it gives him an opening. He rushes in with Kitetsu and manages a clean but shallow slice in her side. She cries out in pain as blood spills from the wound; the cursed blade positively sings with pleasure. Her eyes are wild as she sets her sight on Zoro once again. Before he can step back from the swing, she grabs Kitetsu by the blade- still covered in her own slick blood- and yanks it from Zoro’s grip with an unnatural strength. It’s thrown behind her without a care, her eyes never leaving Zoro’s face. Not until they meet his throat, that is.

Kitetsu flies back towards Sanji, who’s clutching his side, still on the ground from his last beating. The sword lands millimeters from his chest, as if by fate. Even covered in blood, he swears the reflective metal of Kitetsu’s blade is glaring at him. Then it seems to yell at him to move. 

He stands up and lunges at the scene before him, leg swinging out to stop her from pinning Zoro down. She catches his attack, and he knew she would, but it gives Zoro enough time to once again retreat. He looks around. Sanji disengages her and joins him.

“What now?” He pants. 

Zoro pauses. Then he nods to no one except himself, eyeing the woman, then Sanji, then the square around them. “Get ready, cook.” He says, before running to circle her once more. Sanji’s left partially confused, but he hones the last of his focus through the exhaustion and the thirst running through his poor, tired veins.

Once Zoro is back on the playing field, she turns, following him, as they dart past building after building in a sick game of tag. When they’ve almost made a circle Zoro’e eyes harden. He eyes the path back to Sanji and darts towards him with a sudden fierceness. “Now, swirly brows!” He calls, running straight at Sanji with no further explanation. For a moment, Sanji’s just as confused as their opponent is, but then it clicks in his mind. As Zoro nears him, the swordsman  jumps. Sanji winds back a leg and kicks Zoro straight at her with a force that could snap a tree in half. He shoots Zoro towards her so fast that she has no chance to react, though she’s so shocked she probably couldn’t if she wanted to.

Zoro pulls Wado from her sheath as he’s in motion, the momentum from unsheathing the blade adding to the power that’s already sending him forward at 100 miles an hour. Zoro’s action is quick and precise. Wado slices cleanly through her neck, the cut not appearing until Zoro has already landed behind her with the blade held still. Sanji looks away as the vampire’s head falls to the ground, rolling pathetically to the side. 

Zoro retrieves Shusui from his spot wedged into the mortar of the square, then walks over to do the same for Kitetsu. He sheathes his swords and looks to Sanji, first. He’s still staring pointedly at the ground, refusing to make eye contact with the corpse. He sighs.

He walks over to it and pulls a dingy canvas bag from his pack. He carries it with him for this very reason. He picks the head up by its hair and stuffs it in the bag, then pulls it closed, slinging it over his shoulder.

“You can look now.” 

Sanji peeks over at him, eyeing the bag with disgust and a hesitating remorse. Zoro rolls his eyes. “She was a vampire, cook. Get over it.” 

“I know, it’s just…” He sighs. “Such a shame.”

He’s still pale and sickly looking, but the dust and debris that’s fallen over him is probably helping to hide it. Zoro can’t hide the worried look that passes over his face. He grabs Sanji’s hand and is appalled by its coldness. 

“C’mon. Let’s find you a doctor.”

“No! Fuck- I’m alright. I can find a doctor myself. You go turn your spoils in for a bounty- she’s probably worth at least a couple thousand.” Sanji’s face is distant, avoidant. Zoro goes to argue, but Sanji is already pulling away his hand. “Hurry up.” He urges. “It’s getting late; they probably close soon.”

“...Fine.” Zoro narrows his eyes. He doesn’t like it, but he’s not going to beg Sanji to make sure his booboos are non-fatal. He manages a level face. “I’ll meet you at the hospital when I’m done.”

“If you can find it.” Sanji says, the humor barely there. Zoro doesn’t acknowledge the joke; he heads off into town, pulling aside one of the grateful onlookers to help him find the local marine office. Someone approaches Sanji as well, offering to take him to the hospital, but he refuses. He stalks off into the backroads of town and promptly falls to his ass. 

Fuck. He needed blood. 

After resting a few agonizingly slow minutes, he gets up and walks to the edge of town, darting into the surrounding forest with the hopes that no one sees him. How unfortunate it would be for the latest town hero to be exposed as exactly what it is he’s supposedly protecting them from.

He finds a raccoon in the dying light of the evening and relishes it, despite the fact that it arguably leaves him hungrier than before. He cleans up in a nearby stream and wonders how on Earth he’s going to survive the next couple days. He’d never had this much of an issue keeping himself fed before. The combination of Moria’s interference making everyone skittish and Zoro’s ever-present will to cut down the nearest vampire has made things frustratingly difficult.

He heads back into town and straight to the hospital, where he’s relieved to be the first to arrive. He waits outside so Zoro can’t question the doctors about whether he’d actually been there or not. The swordsman arrives shortly after, once again guided by townsfolk. Sanji wouldn’t say Zoro smiled when he saw him, but the recognition at least looks…pleasant.

“Your head alright?” He asks when he makes it over. Sanji nods. 

“I’m lucky. Just a few scrapes and bruises.”

Zoro looks him over. He does look a bit better. He’s cleaned up and a little bit of color has returned to his face, though he still looks tired- a bit under the weather. It’s good enough for him; the cook’s his own man. He can take care of himself.

The two bid their goodbyes to the townspeople, promising to return, before heading back out the gates of town. Sanji eyes the small bag of coin Zoro is holding happily.

“How much did they give you?” He asks.

Zoro turns to him with a wicked grin. “5,000 Berry.” It’s not much, by any means, but to Zoro, it’s a blessing.

Sanji chuckles back with a scoff. “Maybe you’ll actually be able to afford a room now.”

“At least until I’m done here, yea.” 

Sanji hums in response.

—

The rest of the walk home is quiet. Zoro’s not one to start conversation, and Sanji isn’t in the mood to. Though when they get back into Blue Town, with the warm glow of the street lights welcoming them home, Sanji feels a bit better. They made it back. His secret’s still safe. Zoro’s happy, and not dead or lost or trying to kill him. The small ghost of a smile is still threatening to appear on Zoro’s lips- perhaps because he feels accomplished, having finally made it to Thriller Bark, and having gotten some actually useful information. He also got to kill something today- that probably made him happy. Turning in a vampire for a bounty has certainly brightened the swordsman’s mood. After a few days of nothing, finally he’s making progress. …He deserves a celebratory drink, Sanji thinks. He goes to open his mouth, to ask Zoro to follow him to the bar- drinks on him despite the money now clenched in Zoro’s calloused hands. But a different voice cuts through the air, one he hasn’t heard in a while.

“Hey, Pilot Light!”

The two of them turn to the source of the sound. There, propped up against a streetlamp, one leg back against it and the other sprawled out against the ground, is a man in a bright orange hat and an unbuttoned shirt, despite the cold of the night. He gives Sanji a familiar grin and tips up his hat. Sanji balks.

“Ace?”

Zoro turns to him, then back, unsure who the hell this guy is. For some reason, he feels annoyed.

Sanji runs over to meet him, pulling the other into a brief embrace. Ace’s hand lingers on Sanji’s back a little too long. 

Ace pulls back from him, looking him over. “Zeff told me you’d probably be back soon. Didn’t figure it’d take that long though, damn.” He says with a good-natured snicker. Sanji sheepishly rubs the back of his head. It doesn’t suit him, Zoro thinks.

“Sorry, did I make you wait long?”

Ace waves him off. “Don’t worry about it. I only stop through town once in a blue moon, it’s worth it to stick around to see a friend.” Ace looks to Zoro. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”

Sanji shakes his head before Zoro can speak. “No, nothing. Zoro, this is Ace. He’s a friend of mine.”

Clearly. Zoro nods at him, stiffly. Ace nods back, smiling.

Sanji feels pulled in two different directions. This is terrible timing. This is perfect timing. Ace could not have showed up at a worse or better time. 

“Zoro, you can make it back to the inn, right?” He asks.

Zoro’s taken aback for a moment- why, he isn’t sure. Did he expect them to continue? Their job was done, after all. The swordsman nods, wordlessly. He hikes up his pack and saunters off towards the inn just down the street without a word. Sanji craves to overthink the small, pointed interaction- but he has other things on his mind. He turns on his heel and grabs Ace’s shirt, pulling him towards the Baratie with nearly shaking hands. Ace just blinks, allowing himself to be pulled off.

“Is Zeff in the loft?” Sanji asks in a low voice.

Ace laughs at that. “You’re funny. You think he wants to stay and overhear us? He shimmied down to the kitchen to do ‘prep work’ as soon as he saw I was in town.” Ace snickers. 

Sanji enters the restaurant- closed, at this hour- and pulls Ace up the stairs as stealthily as he can, despite the fact Zeff already knows what they’re doing.

FWB. It’s a lovely acronym, and it fits their relationship doubly so. Friends with benefits- yes, ever since the first time Ace had come to town and lit his cigarette. The vagabond only stopped by once or twice a year, but each time was done with the expectation he and Sanji would spend it with a good time. Not just for sex, though- that was the other thing. A visit from Ace was also a guaranteed meal. 

Friends with benefits? Yes, that fit them. The benefits included sex and blood. Ace had once cheekily called himself a FWB- a ‘Friend Worth Biting.’ Sanji had kicked him for that.

The instant Ace shuts the door behind them, Sanji is on him. He presses Ace against the door with a thud that makes all the sneaking around they’ve done so far seem useless. Ace grunts, feeling Sanji’s breath on his neck.

“Jeez- eager tonight, are we?”

“You have no fucking idea.”

Ace just hums. They really are friends- he knows Sanji will tell him about it later. For now, he’s simply going to enjoy the ride. He feels Sanji’s tongue dart out over his skin, hot and wet and lingering longer than it needs to. Ace digs his short fingernails into the wood of the door behind him. He missed this.

Sanji bites into him not a second later, moaning openly as the warm iron taste spills into his mouth. Ace grunts, grimacing with pain, then smirks a nasty smirk as Sanji begins drinking him down. Yea. He did miss this. He snakes a hand down to Sanji’s ass, lifting up on it to pull him closer. He does this a lot- Sanji’s a little shorter than he is, and it gives him something to ground himself with, and also- Sanji just has a nice one. But this time, for whatever reason, Ace senses apprehension. He lets go and slides it to Sanji’s side instead, holding out until the other finally pulls away, blood dripping from his teeth. Ace feels lightheaded.

Sanji steps back and then immediately lurches forward again as Ace goes to fall without his support. 

“Shit- You alright? Did I take too much?”

Ace shakes his head, woozy. “Nah, just…Okay, maybe a little.”

Sanji helps him to the bed, propping him up with some pillows. It really has been a while. Not just since he saw Ace, but since he got to feed from someone like this. He can hardly help himself.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” 

He runs downstairs to whip up something to bring Ace back to life. He’s noisy coming down the stairs on purpose. It works- He sees the tail end of Zeff’s coat slipping out the door as he comes into the kitchen. It makes him laugh a little. Silly old man.

Not long after he’s gone, Sanji returns with a hearty dish of meat and rice, along with a glass of water. Ace takes it happily. He takes a few bites, drinks some of his water, then looks down at himself, propped up in Sanji’s bed like a sick grandmother.

He swallows. “...We might not be doing anything tonight.” He announces.

Sanji waves his hand. “It’s alright. I’m more than grateful for what you gave me already.”

“...Ya know, I sensed the slightest bit of hesitation from you earlier anyway.” He takes another bite, talking through the side of his mouth as he chews. “Not in the mood?”

Sanji shrugs. “Guess not.” 

That’s gotta be a lie. Sanji’s always in the mood. It’s almost impressive. He doesn’t think he could keep pace if he was here every day of the year as opposed to the usual one. 

“...It’s that swordsman, isn’t it?” 

“Huh?”

The look on Sanji’s face tells him all he needs to know. He takes another bite and grins like a cat. Sanji glares. 

“What? What do you mean? Ace!”

Ace finishes, putting his plate aside. Talking with Sanji is half of the fun. 

“I just got a weird vibe when you two split. Seemed like he was jealous. And you two looked pretty happy waltzing into town together.” 

“We’re not-! I’ve only known the guy a few days.” He grumbles, crossing his arms. Ace pats the bed next to him, inviting Sanji to sit down. He does so readily, eager to complain.

“That doesn’t mean anything. You fall in love fast. Hell, I’m pretty sure you were in love with me the first couple times we did it.”

Sanji blushes. “You could tell?” He sounds pathetic. Ace can’t help but laugh. He laughs so hard that his head starts to feel light again- he wills himself to stop, wiping an eye. 

“Forget about that. Tell me about this Zoro guy.”

“...He’s a bounty hunter.”

“...Like, vampire bounties?”

“Yea. He’s here going after a big one in the town over.”

“Does he…know-?”

“No.”

“Yikes.”

“YEAH IT’S ‘YIKES’! I don’t know what to fucking do!” Sanji yells, pulling at his hair. Ace huffs. This guy’s too much sometimes.

“You think he’d kill you if he found out? I mean, the two of you seem to get along pretty well.”

“...I don’t know. He said he doesn’t hate vampires with a passion, necessarily. Just…Doesn’t mind killing them.”

“Weird logic.”

“Part of me thinks he’d be more mad that I kept it from him.”

Ace shrugs. “Could be. I don’t know the guy.” Then, jabbing his elbow into Sanji’s ribs,

“How did you even end up befriending a hunter, dummy?” Ace teases.

Sanji groans, shaking his head. “I found him lost in the middle of the woods at night. I was gonna suck his blood, but the idiot was so lost I took pity on him and brought him back to town. Then I was still gonna do it, but…found out he was a bounty hunter.”

“Well, you still could. Maybe he’ll like it, like I did~”

Sanji pushes Ace’s stupid grinning face away as he leans in to tease him. He sincerely doubts Zoro would appreciate any of that. In fact, he’s not even sure Zoro appreciates romance in general. If the man’s in love with anything, it’s his own swords.

He and Ace spent the night talking. About Zoro, yea, but about Sanji, and about Ace, too. He’s been having a plethora of adventures out on the Grand Line while Sanji spends his days here at Baratie, doing much of the same, as he has for years. He's glad Ace’s journey lines up with that of the sailing restaurant every so often, but part of him feels as if he’s always a step behind. Not of Ace, specifically- but behind…His goals. His aspirations. His ambitions. But he can’t leave Zeff. He can’t leave Baratie. He can’t ever repay his old man for what he did for him that day almost thirteen years ago now. Besides, who else to keep the restaurant safe from the monsters of the Grand Line than a monster itself?

He and Ace fall asleep sometime after midnight, having talked much of the night away. Sanji is curled up in a crooked but compact line as usual, while Ace is spread across the bed like he owns it; but they’re both comfortable, both within the bed and each other’s friendly, reassuring presence. Maybe a bit more on Sanji’s end than the other.

Chapter Text

Zoro sits at a table near the back end of the Baratie, close to where the kitchen is. He didn’t do this on purpose- he was sat here by the staff- probably so he could be as far away from the poor maître d' as possible. He had money this time; he showed the damn guy. Still, he hadn’t seemed too pleased with Zoro’s presence. Whatever. It wasn’t his problem.

The cook wasn’t here yet, it seemed. Someone else had come out to take his breakfast order. Sanji had once said his name was Patty, he was pretty sure. He’d caught sight of the old man, too- Zeff, if his memory was correct. Someone else he doesn’t know at all comes by and finally drops off his steak and eggs. Why he’s taking inventory of the whole damn staff, he doesn’t know. He’s bored.

He’s about to dig in when the sound of boots coming down the stairs adjoined to the kitchen catch his ear. He looks up, expecting the cook. Irritation burns in his gut when instead he discovers it to be the man from last night, dressed stupidly in an orange cowboy hat, cargo shorts, and a sleek black turtleneck that doesn’t at all fit his appearance. The unstylish man notices Zoro’s glare as he comes down the stairs. He waves a friendly wave. Zoro does not reciprocate.

For whatever reason, this doesn’t seem to damper Ace’s spirits. He pushes aside the stanchion at the bottom of the stairs with a small sign hanging from it marked ‘Private’ and dips his head into the kitchen, calling goodbye to Zeff. The old man presents him with a bag of food to go- apparently already prepped and ready. Who was this guy, the cook’s fucking boyfriend?

The fiery kid goes to leave, then stops in his boots, eyeing Zoro. He really shouldn’t meddle. But what kind of friend would he be if he didn’t? It’s not like he could meddle with Luffy’s love life- the boy didn’t have one. Where else was he supposed to have his fun?

He slides up to Zoro’s table and tries to keep his smiling face as even as he can. “Sanji should be down soon.” He says, watching as Zoro processes this information. He seems to decide he’s mad about it.

“Thanks.” He says, sounding no less like he wants to gut the guy.

Ace leans down a bit, whispering. 

“Hey. Take care of him for me, will ya? Sanji’s high strung. He’ll stress himself out without someone to keep him level.” Then he pulls back and winks, before sauntering out of the restaurant like the world doesn’t owe him a thing. It pisses Zoro off.

What the hell does that even mean? Why would he say something like that to Zoro, of all people? Shouldn’t he be telling someone like Zeff? It’s not Zoro’s problem what the cook does or doesn’t do. Hell, why would Zoro even care? Keep the cook level…How?

More footsteps interrupt his thoughts. Sanji’s walking down the stairs in a navy suit and yellow shirt. He’s in the middle of pulling on his tie as he hits the ground level when he spots Zoro. Something passes over his face before he finishes his tie knot, then starts walking over. Great. He doesn’t really want to see the cook right now. He’s not going to consider why.

“Couldn’t find the inn?” Sanji asks. Zoro frowns- he’s not in the mood for the usual teasing right now.

“I came for breakfast. I didn’t even realize you’d be here.” He stuffs a bite of eggs into his mouth and chews.

“...I work here.” Sanji responds.

“Well you weren’t here until now.”

“Yea, I was-” He stops, shakes his head. “Whatever. Did Carne do his fucking job right?” He asks, peering at Zoro’s steak. The swordsman pulls it away from him. 

“My breakfast is fine. Fuck off. You’ve got work to do, don’t you?”

Sanji doesn’t know why Zoro’s being so snippy with him, but he doesn’t appreciate it. He thought they’d gotten closer yesterday. Apparently not. 

“Well fuck you too. Enjoy your shitty food, shitty swordsman.” He lights a cigarette and stalks off towards the kitchen. Zoro hears Zeff yelling about the smoke not a minute later. Whatever. Not his problem. Not his cook. Not his fucking day, apparently. He finishes his breakfast too fast; he barely even tastes it. He leaves some Berry on the table and heads out the door.

Today is yet another day of limbo.

Zoro hates wasting time. This is surprising to some people who know him- the amount of naps he takes alone is one piece of contradictory evidence, not to mention that much of his free time is spent downing booze. But when there’s something to be done, something important- Zoro does not stray. When people’s lives were at stake especially. Now, Zoro was no hero- hell, even a word like compassionate might be a stretch. He did not often go out of his way to save others. But one thing he was-? A man of his word. A juggernaut on a set track. A being fiercely loyal.

By taking this bounty- and furthered by his time there yesterday- Zoro has made a promise to the people of Thriller Bark. He does not enjoy waiting around while the fruits of Moria’s labor continue to be an issue, even in his absence. 

To hell with the cook. Right now, he needed to be in Thriller Bark. Moria or not, the old man had told him attacks from his minions were a daily occurrence. If he had nothing else to do, he might as well head to town to act as a watchdog. He checks his swords, looks behind him at the restaurant, just once, and heads off towards the forest.

—

Roronoa Zoro is a stoic man. 

He is also loyal, defiant, disciplined, irritable, brash, grumpy, brazen, resolute, decisive, confident, boisterous, reflective- There are many words to define the man that walks the dirt of the forest path, some conflicting, but only because of that more human. 

5’11”, built and muscled, skin tan from days traveling in the sun; hard and calloused from the hardworking, physical lifestyle he’s chosen for himself. His eye- the one that’s left- is a cold grey that holds the essence of his intensity: an ever-burning determination should you find yourself looking into them on a good day, a terrifying promise of destruction should he look to you on a bad. This is the kind of man that Koushirou raised at the dojo of Shimotsuki Village. Though his sensei would tell you he didn’t dissuade humor or brightness in his students, Zoro would make you believe otherwise. The young swordsman had always had a mind of his own. That’s another word that fits him well- He’s stubborn. Bullheaded.

The thousand or more times he’d fought Kuina was proof enough of that. Losing every time, but never losing his perseverance. The one thing that changed since then was that now Zoro had calmed down a bit: he was passably behaved around others, just rude- and his attitude around most people was aloof, but not as reactive. At least, until he found someone that just happened to push his buttons in all the wrong ways. Then the difference between young, fiery Zoro and the lippy, violent young adult in front of them became one in the same. 

Zoro looks up from his walk along the path. Even in the near afternoon sun, the forest and its surroundings are grayish from the fog. Something snaps a twig. He glances over and spots a buck hopping through the forest in the distance. 

Dreams. Ambitions. Drive. Do what that day stole from Kuina. Defeat Dracule Mihawk. Become the world’s greatest swordsman- for both of them. They’re lofty goals- but he can achieve them. There’s no use in doubt or regret. 

He finds himself in the clearing. That same damn clearing from the first night. In fact, if he looks closely, he can still see the imprints of his boots, paced in circles in the dirt. It’s infuriating. This isn’t a good sign for his current navigational endeavors. Nonetheless, he perseveres, heading the way he remembers Sanji to have taken them yesterday.

Kuina. He doesn’t think of her as often as some might think. He doesn’t dwell on the past, only reflects on it. Today he is reflecting. The day he waited for Kuina by the lake, only for Koushirou to come instead. There’s been an accident, he’d said. She’s gone, he’d said. She’d been sick. She’d tripped. She’d fallen down the stairs. 

Zoro remembered how they’d overworked themselves the day before, training together. He had some childish thoughts that day. Impulsive and hurtful. He tried not to have those anymore. He instead wanted to focus on achieving what they had set out for themselves: their promise. Distractions needed to be kept to a minimum. Even now, he could improve on these distractions. That included booze. It included napping. It probably now also included Sanji. Why he enjoyed spending time around the idiot, he didn’t know. He knew he pissed him off, knew he was the antithesis of Zoro’s outlook on the world, knew he was fickle and annoying and overemotional- but that was one kind of person that could apparently match Zoro’s energy in a completely opposite way. Maybe he liked that, deep down. It was the only way to explain the fact that he had most definitely been jealous, earlier. Jealous of Ace, or whatever his name was. Jealous of the closeness between the two, of the way he drew Sanji’s attention so easily, and especially of the way he stole Sanji away so quickly. He’d even called the cook some stupid nickname- Pilot Light? What on earth did that mean? Was it some cooking thing he wouldn’t understand? Whatever. Not Zoro’s problem. Not his problem. He’ll be gone in a few days anyway; the cook will be left behind and soon forgotten. 

He’s passing the clearing again. He’s been walking for hours.

Did he have feelings for the cook? Maybe. Zoro very rarely felt that way about someone, but he wasn’t dumb enough to not recognize it for what it was: an annoyance. And, once again, a distraction . He didn’t have time for this. It wouldn’t work out well anyway. He travels non-stop, and he doesn’t need anything weighing him down. Even a bit of fun during the waiting days of his missions. He didn’t need fun. He didn’t need distractions. He should give up the booze and the napping and the passing glances- he needs to train, to hunt, and to move forward. 

He should have hit Thriller Bark by now. This is bullshit. How’s he supposed to protect them if he can’t even make it there? Who will do it if he can’t? Zoro hates to feel useless. He hates it.

He’s walking in circles pissing himself off and he knows it. He looks to his swords, hoping to ground himself. He looks for their guidance in lieu of the navigation he currently lacks. Two of them are abuzz with life. One is quiet.

Kitetsu is still thrumming with the urge to carve flesh. He can tell the blade was happy yesterday, during their battle. It still seems completely okay with killing the cook, too. Noted.

Shusui is angry. At times Zoro feels like this sword may be the one most like him. It often agrees with him, though in a more blunt manner. At the moment it seems to reflect Zoro’s own feelings back at him. At least it makes them plainer to see.

Wado Ichimonji is silent again. She isn’t saying much. If he reaches deep, truly grasps at what the sword is thinking...disappointment, maybe. It's too bad that they can’t truly speak to him with words; only emanations of spirit, emotion. If they did, he might just ask for their help. He wonders briefly if Wado was like this when Kuina carried her, too.

The shifting light passing through the trees catches his attention again. Fuck, how long had he been out here? It’s getting dark. He left in the morning. He’s still walking in circles. Can he not do the one thing he set out here to do? Not even that? He pulls his hand back and punches the nearest tree. The bark splits, and so does his skin. Tch. That was stupid. He licks the blood from his knuckles and wipes his hand against his robe. Wado’s disappointment seems a bit more palpable now. He wishes she would be quiet.

Puru. 

Purururururu.

Purururururururu.

He stops. Is that his transponder snail?

He digs into his pocket, rooting around for the little creature. He feels the spiral of its shell and pulls it out, eyeing it as it sits on his palm. He barely uses this thing. Who’s calling him?

He puts it to his ear. “Hello?”

A gruff voice answers on the other line. “Hey. I know you just got some Berry, but knowing you, you probably shouldn’t waste it. You’ll just end up broke again.” It’s the cook’s voice. What’s he calling him for? To scold him about how he uses his money?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He spits into the intake. 

Sanji’s voice is quick to reply- and perhaps a little nervous, if one were to listen closely. “You should just crash at my place tonight. Save your money.”

…Huh. He wasn’t expecting that.

“Who said I wanted to crash in your kitchen?” Zoro asks, stalling his own answer.

“I have a loft upstairs, dumbass. You don’t have to accept my offer. I just thought I’d try being nice for a change.”

He hesitates a moment longer. “...Fine. Alright.”

Sanji smiles, though Zoro can’t see it. “Good. Where are you, anyway?”

“The forest.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Are you lost again?”

“Just tell me how to get back to town.”

Sanji groans into the phone. By some miracle, he manages to get Zoro turned back towards the town and walking on the path leading back. It’s a straight shot, one even Zoro can’t mess up, so he lets the other man go. 

Sometime in the late evening Zoro finally steps up to the docks where the Baratie is moored. Sanji’s waiting for him, smoking a cigarette on the railing in a loose button-down and slacks. He sucks in a drag and the end of the cigarette lights up, almost like a beacon to guide the swordsman in the dark light.

“Aw, Chance made it back home.” The cook’s smoke-gravelly voice calls down at him. Zoro decides not to fire back at that one. He's tired. 

He steps up the steps and finds Sanji’s snarky grin fading into a more genuine one. His heart flutters stupidly, trying at first to be fond until Zoro’s conscious brain purposely fumbles it, and it falls against his ribs like a broken paper airplane. He coughs. 

Sanji turns around and pushes the door open, leading Zoro through the now-empty restaurant. They head up the stairs- the same stairs he watched both Ace and Sani descend this morning. When they pass the first loft, Zoro hesitates. Sanji shakes his head. “That’s the old man’s. He’s not home tonight- had to take Patty and Carne up to some chef expo.”

“And you didn’t wanna go?”

“I go every year. I’ve seen enough mid-tier cooks slathering their chicken breast in oregano and calling it ingenuity.” 

He answered pretty quickly. Did he rehearse that? Then again, he also seems to find it true. He’s pursing his lips and pouting. It’s cute.

They continue upwards until Sanji kicks open the door to his own apartment loft and invites Zoro to step past him. It’s small, but not crowded. Plank wooden floors with a bed on one side by the porthole window, a bedside dresser, a table, a small kitchen area, and a futon to the left. There are a couple doors in the back, Zoro assumes them to be the bathroom and perhaps a closet. 

“Wait. Where am I supposed to sleep?” Zoro asks, eyeing the slim pickings of the mini-apartment.

“By host’s honor, I have to offer you my bed, though personally I think you deserve the futon.” He says with a grin, taking another toke on his cig. 

Zoro walks straight over to Sanji’s bed and plops himself down on it to make a point. Sanji makes a face more out of the need to follow through with his joke than any real animosity. 

He heads over to the porthole in the middle of the room and smashes his cigarette on the rim before tossing it, then pulls the window shut. “What did you do all day, mosshead? Don’t tell me you spent it all stomping around in the woods.”

“None of your business.”

His answer is all Sanji needs to know that he did. He shakes his head.

“What about you, swirly brow? Hang out with your boyfriend some more?” Zoro’s tone is teasing, but it strikes a chord within Sanji for whatever reason. He remembers the snippity way Zoro acted yesterday, this morning. The green bastard was jealous. Sanji sits down on the futon, smirking.

“Why do you care? Want me all to yourself?” He’s pissed he threw out his cigarette already. This would be a great time to smoke it all teasing-like between his words.

“You wish.” Zoro retorts.

“You’ve said that before. You think I like your thick-skull? That’s a bold assumption.”

“You’re the one who keeps following after me like a lost puppy.”

“It’s cute that you think I’m the lost one.”

“So you do think I’m cute?” Zoro jokes. Sanji rolls his eyes with a smile.

“Just so you know, Ace is just a friend. Since apparently that matters.”

“Never said it did. ‘Pilot Light’s a pretty weird nickname for a friend, though. What the hell’s that even mean?”

Sanji blushes lightly. “It’s an inside joke. Don’t worry about it.” 

“...Uh huh.”

“Hey, you call me nicknames all the damn time, and I just met your ass a few days ago. I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Cook isn’t a nickname. It’s what you are.”

“You called me swirly brow less than five minutes ago.”

“That’s not a sweet nickname. That’s me making fun of you.”

Sanji’s eyebrow twitches.

Zoro continues. “Speaking of. Why are your eyebrows like that? You get your face too close using the blender or somethin’?”

Sanji’s face is flat. “It’s genetic.” He grumbles.

Zoro scoffs. “No way. Don’t tell me the other one’s like that too.”

Sanji says nothing. His eyebrow twitches again.

Zoro gets an evil glint in his eye. He’s only ever seen one half of the cook’s face. He always keeps the other side covered by his hair. Is the other side just as pretty, he wonders? Is it also just as easy to make fun of? Sanji catches the mischievous gleam in Zoro’s eye and stiffens. He backs away slightly on the futon.

“Oh hell no.”

Zoro stands. 

“Don’t you fucking dare, Zoro.”

The swordsman takes his swords from his waist, tucking them gently against the bed frame. He stretches, obnoxiously, like he’s getting ready for an olympic race. Then he looks right at Sanji and lunges for him. 

“FUCK OFF, MARIMO BASTARD!” Sanji jumps out of the way just in time, but loses his footing when he lands, threatening to tumble. Zoro recovers and grabs his arm, yanking him forward. Sanji pushes against him, grabbing his other arm in an attempt to preoccupy the swordsman’s hands and keep them away from his damn bangs. They’re grappling with each other face to face, Sanji grimacing and Zoro with the same evil grin that he usually wears in a battle he knows he’ll win. Part of it sets Sanji’s stomach on fire. 

They end up near the futon again and when Zoro pushes Sanji without realizing the couch is behind them, Sanji’s knees buckle and he falls backwards across it. Zoro falls along with him, and then they’re staring at each other panting as Zoro presses Sanji’s hands into the cushions.

Sanji sighs. “Fine.” He relents. Zoro lets go of his hands. Sanji stares up at him expectantly. He didn’t expect the cook to give up so easily. Now he actually has to be gentle about it. 

Zoro gingerly brings a warm hand to Sanji’s face, brushing aside the blonde fringe there. He’s surprised at what he finds. Another swirl- but facing the same direction as the other one. They’re completely asymmetrical. It looks like someone’s scrawled a couple of sixes across the cook’s forehead. But it surprisingly doesn’t look…bad. 

He must be making some kind of face because Sanji’s expression is irritated. “Yea, yea- it’s making you dizzy, I know. I keep one of them covered for a reason.”

“Yea, you look like a dartboard.” Zoro says easily.

Sanji growls. He’s blushing from embarrassment and he’s helpless to Zoro’s ogling. Zoro takes note. Because…he is ogling, now. He wasn’t before, but now he realizes he can take in the cook’s whole face, and it’s handsome. His brows may be strange, but they make him special, and they still fit his face well. He has good facial structure, his nose is long and slightly hooked, his mouth is sneering but his lips are smooth. His goatee fits him better than it fits most other men. And his eyes…Those misty blues. Is Zoro really the type to get all messed up over someone’s eyes, like some kind of romantic? That sounds more like the cook’s thing. Maybe he is. The cook’s all pretty like this, and Zoro thinks for a moment that he’s also his type, before recoiling mentally. His type? He doesn’t have a fucking type. What is he saying?

“Are you just gonna keep staring at me, or can I fix my fucking hair now?”

Zoro swallows. He’s straddling the cook alone in his bedroom and the cook is blushing all pretty like and he wants to do something about it. Should he do something about it? He probably shouldn’t. Isn’t he supposed to be working on distancing himself from distractions?

Sanji seems to catch on to the situation they’re in too. He swallows, blushing a bit more readily now.

“You know, typically, you make some kind of move at this point.” He says quietly. Zoro’s heart jumps.

“I’m just taking in your stupid face before you cover it up again.” 

Sanji’s eyes are slightly narrowed. “Why don’t you come take it in some more?”

Zoro swallows heavily. Fuck. There’s no coming back from this, is there? Fuck. Shit.

“You flirting with me, cook?”

“Take it any way you like.”

The hum in Sanji’s low voice is intoxicating. Zoro’s about to take it exactly the way he wants to. He wants to take a lot of things right now. And take and take and take. 

A skidding sound fills the room. They look over at the bed. Zoro’s swords are slowly sliding against the bed frame, about to tip to the ground.

“Shit-”

Zoro pushes off the other and takes two long steps across the apartment to catch them just before they fall. It wouldn’t have been the end of the world, no, but Zoro would sooner give his swords the bed than himself. He’s bothered, though- he always makes sure they’re secure when he leaves them somewhere other than his side. He’d done the same just minutes ago. He knows they can’t actually move on their own- but Kitetsu seems to find something funny. He sets them up again, in the corner this time- leaning on both the bedframe and the wall, for more support. He turns around.

Sanji has stood from the futon. His hair is back over his eye; he’s rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“It’s late. You head to Thriller Bark for real tomorrow, right?”

“...” Zoro nods. “Yea. Moria comes back tomorrow.”

“Then you should get some rest.”

Zoro nods. 

The two of them take turns in the bathroom to prepare for the night. Sanji goes first. By the time Zoro takes his turn in the small (but very organized) bathroom, Sanji’s already curled up in the covers of the futon. His body is still, and his face is covered, so he has no idea whether he’s still awake or not. It’s probably best to assume the latter. He wonders briefly if he’s just missed his chance, or avoided a disaster. 

He turns off the light and crawls into bed. 

—

Zoro grits his teeth and moans. It’s so hot in here. The two of their bodies moving together is creating so much heat and friction in the small room that it’s borderline uncomfortable, but it’s just adding to the ever-growing list of stimulation assaulting his senses at the moment. 

Sanji’s so tight around him. His weight is off and on pressing to Zoro’s hips as he rides him, keening in pleasure each time. The cook’s voice gets so stupidly nasty and high-pitched at times like this. It’s filthy, and it makes Zoro go crazy. 

He digs his free hand into Sanji’s hip-bone, nails digging against the skin as he grips onto the other in every way he can. His other hand is feeling up Sanji’s thigh, which is far more muscular than the man’s pitch-black slacks ever let on. 

He bucks up into the other’s grip a few times, the spring in his gut coiling tighter. He’s close. He’s chasing the pleasure he knows is coming- and it’s going to be fucking astronomical. He’s been waiting to get his hands on the cook like this since he met him- whether he’d admit it or not. To think he’d have him here, riding Zoro’s dick in a sick perversion of that stupid cowboy with the orange hat from before- it makes him want to finish just from the possessive thought.

He searches the blonde’s face as one of his thrusts forces out a particularly loud cry. The cook’s eyes are wrenched closed in pleasure, sweat sticking those pretty blonde locks to his forehead. They get a little curly at the edges when they’re wet. His cheeks are red; so are his ears. His mouth is wide-open in a moan, and his fangs are-

His…fangs?

In the open mouth that cries out Zoro’s name, then bites tersely at his own overstimulation, two thick knives of ivory take up the empty space of the cook’s mouth. They’re huge and glaringly sharp. Zoro freezes.

“S…Sanji?”

The vampire curses a slew of expletives at hearing Zoro speak his name. He finishes with immediacy, shooting over Zoro’s stomach and chest. He tenses around the swordsman and he can’t help his body releasing too- he throws his head back and momentarily forgets what he just saw- though the addition of that revelation, the shock, the panic, the…pleasure? Of the revelation- might have actually been a part of it. 

When all is said and done and Sanji is still sitting on his hips, those powerful legs splayed out behind him, his breath panting to catch up, those teeth still visible behind his lips, Zoro sits up and actually stammers.

“Cook. Y-You’re…?”

Zoro wakes up with a jolt.

He’s cold and hot and covered in sweat. He looks around in a panic. The room is dark, but the faintest bit of light coming over the horizon ekes in the porthole window. Sanji is still asleep on the futon across the room from him. It’s quiet. It is almost sunrise. 

Zoro quietly gets up, grabs his things, and hurries out the door.

Chapter Text

Sanji wakes up the next morning the same time as usual- early. He doesn’t know what time Zoro usually rises, but he assumes the swordsman sleeps in some. He’s about to look over at the bed when he realizes he doesn’t sense another presence in the room. Sure enough, when he looks over at where Zoro had been just last night, the bed is empty, not even made. Surely he isn’t downstairs in the restaurant already? The Baratie isn’t even open yet. 

‘He left.’ is the thought left ringing in Sanji’s mind. Shit, he fucked up last night, didn’t he? How stupid he had been. What was he thinking, flirting with Zoro ? Trying to mess around with Zoro? That could have gone worse. It could have gone very badly, actually. Sanji’s not sure if he would have been able to hold himself back, and even if he had, it was still a bad idea. He would catch feelings very quickly, and then Zoro would leave, and he’d be left to continue his extremely exciting life of being a restaurant boat’s live-in leech. 

The only problem with that logic was that he already had caught feelings. But at least at the moment they weren’t reciprocated openly, so he could continue to label it just a passing fantasy. Spending time with Zoro certainly didn’t help, though.

But he wanted to spend time with Zoro, while he could. Maybe Zeff had been right. Romance or no, he didn’t have many friends his age. Ace was the only one he could think of, and he only saw the guy once in a blue moon. He craved connection. Adventure. Company. 

He wanted to go after Zoro. Not because he wanted to apologize, or ask him to come back, or some other embarrassing, desperate motivation; although that was partially there. Zoro was going to defeat Moria today, wasn’t he? He needed Sanji’s help to get to Thriller Bark. And, honestly…He might need it to defeat him, too. Zoro was incredibly strong- more so than Sanji gave him credit for, at first. But to defeat a creature like Moria, single handedly, along with his horde of ghouls and henchman? No one man could do that. He worried for Zoro’s safety. And his humanity.

Sanji cleans himself up and slips downstairs in one of his patterned button-downs. Muted knife sounds come from the kitchen. Someone is prepping- probably Zeff. The restaurant is empty. He stops by the bar and inn against his better judgement, but all it takes is him poking his head in for Makino to notice him and give a sad shake of her head and a sympathetic smile. 

God. That’s embarrassing. He pops his head right back out and pulls out a smoke.

He’s not going to chase after the man anymore. If Zoro needs him, he will call. He’s not going to look like an idiot in front of anyone. Especially not the mosshead. If he wants to put distance between himself and the blonde, that’s his own prerogative. Sanji will not sacrifice his pride for this. Nor his feelings.

If Zoro needs him, he will call.

—

Six hours go by. 

Sanji is worried the entirety of it. At this point, any worry about his own romantic fumblings are gone. Now, he is only concerned for Zoro’s safety. 

It’ll be dark soon. Ideally, if all had gone well, Zoro would have defeated all of them within the daytime, before the retreating sun could give any of the supernatural beings an advantage. But now, at 6:30 pm, time is ticking by fast.

Sanji slides another plate of curry into the window. He’s out of it tonight. His food is delicious, but not up to its usual above-grade bar. Zeff and the others have noticed. Perhaps sensing his mood and feeling pity, they don’t give him hell about it. That only makes him feel worse.

But then…something catches his ear. Below his hair, his ear twitches, listening in to a very muted sound. It’s his den den mushi. He’d left it upstairs in his room when he’d gone to work. It’s ringing.

Sanji excuses himself from the line, claiming he’s taking his break early. No one buys it considering the way he flies up the stairs like a man on fire. 

Once he makes it to his loft, he fumbles the key into the lock and flings the door open, darting to his desk where the small snail sits chattering. He picks it up and answers breathlessly.

“Hello?”

The line is static. He raises an eyebrow. Is this not what he thought it was?

“...Hello?” He tries again.

“-ook? …’m…fucking fores-…Can-...ou?...-llo?”

“Zoro? Fuck, Zoro, I can’t hear you. You’re breaking up.”

“-est! … lost…You-...?”

He manages to make out an obvious groan of frustration, and then the line cuts out. 

Sanji stares at the snail for only a moment. It stares back at him, squinty eyes emotionless.

He pockets it, then runs downstairs. He finds Zeff in the middle of plating up a spread of bruschetta. 

“Old man! I need to-”

“Just go, eggplant. You’re excused.”

“...” Sanji wastes no more time than that. He skids out the kitchen in one more turn and out he goes.

—

Sanji sprints through town as fast as he can humanly manage, and then breaks into a sprint no human could once he hits the woods. Zoro’s scent picks up quickly, but so does the smell of blood. Sanji moves faster.

He eventually comes upon that ill-fated clearing. As always, he can sense Zoro's presence there. He has a repetitious feeling of deja vu. 

As he approaches it, the sound of arguing hits his ears. At first he thought it was yelling, frantic and panicked. But now that he listens closely…? 

He steps into the edge of the clearing as Zoro's silhouette becomes visible.

“-ou want from me, witch!”

Zoro's pacing, his transponder snail held staunchly up to his ear. His back is hunched over slightly, his other hand gripping the hilt of Shusui, the black sword. A few frankensteined ghouls lay strewn around him, lying in pools of blood. He keeps talking, though about what, Sanji has no idea. Finally, Zoro pipes up with, “Just come pick me up, would you!?”

Sanji hears someone sigh on the other end of the line. Then, it goes flat. He blinks.

Zoro turns around and blinks back at him in surprise. The lantern he's holding catches the light in Sanji's eyes in a strange way.

“...Cook?”

“Who was that?” Sanji asks.

Zoro groans. “Don't worry about it. What are you doing here?”

“You called me, didn't you?”

Zoro blushes imperceptibly. “Oh. Yea, I did.”

Sanji sighs and leans against the nearest tree. “I thought you were in danger.” He looks around at the carnage surrounding Zoro. “What happened here?”

“Got ambushed by some ghouls in the middle of calling you. One of ‘em was emitting some weird electrical signal. I dunno what the hell he did to those things.” He says, kicking the nearest corpse. Sure enough, bolts and antenna are sticking out of its head. Static twitches from them when Zoro jostles it. 

“...You haven't beat Moria yet, I'm guessing?”

Zoro’s tone is not kind. “What do you think?” He’s clearly still irritated. 

Sanji sighs again. It's not like Zoro could've known that getting to Thriller Bark without him was impossible- quite literally. He shouldn't blame the guy. Though, for the amount of times he's ended up stuck at this exact spot, he should know by now that it's not worth trying, shouldn't he?

“Well, good news, your loyal servant is here to make sure you don't get lost again.” He says with a chuckle, bowing sarcastically. Sanji moves forward to join him in the space and the light of Zoro's lantern once again catches a reflection in the other man's eyes, though this time it's bright and pearlescent like that of an animal. Sanji doesn't seem to notice. Zoro certainly does. Humans don't have eye shine like that. He knows this; he even knows the stupid fancy term for it. His medic, Chopper, had told him about it once when ranting on and on about reindeer. Tapetum Lucidum . It's what helps nocturnal animals catch more light to see in the dark.

He swallows. That dream from last night surfaces in his mind. He doesn't need to be thinking about that right now. He really doesn't. 

“Uh-” 

“Yoohoo, boys!” 

The two of them look up at the sound of a new voice. Above them, floating just above the treeline and silhouetted against the moon, is a woman on a broomstick with bright orange hair. She waves cheekily down at them.

As she swoops down to their level, still hovering on the broom but now sat more comfortably, Zoro watches the cook's eyes turn into hearts. Ugh. At least it's preferable to whatever on earth had been happening with them earlier. 

“Ick, what happened here?” She asks, peering at the corpses still littered on the ground. 

“Got attacked before I called you.” 

She looks at the blood drying on Zoro's arms and shirt. “...Of course you did.” Then she turns her attention to Sanji. 

“Who's this, Zoro?” Her brown eyes are playful, but scrutinizing. 

“He's a cook.”

“My name is Sanji!” The blonde bellows. Then he turns to Nami with a 180 degree change in attitude. “Nice to meet you, my darling!” He coos, taking her hand and kissing it gently. “And what may I call you?”

She snickers. “Nami’s fine.” This guy's a total loser. …But there's something off about him, too. Not a mere human herself, she can tell when someone else is… like her , so to speak. 

“Zoro!” Sanji's back to his previous disposition. “Why didn't you tell me you knew such a lovely lady?” 

“‘Cause I try not to get her involved unless utterly necessary. The witch charges me interest for so much as borrowing a pen.” He sneers. She sticks her tongue out at him.

“I help the idiot find jobs when he's down on his luck. In return, I get a cut of the cash. I helped him find this bounty, too. I just didn't have any idea it'd be such a hassle.” She says, looking at Zoro in a way that's clearly meant to rag on him. He glares at her. 

“By the way, that reminds me. I learned some more information about Moria that might be helpful to you.” She explains. 

“Yea?” Asks Zoro, cocking his head. “Lay it on me.” He props himself up on a tree next to Sanji. The blonde smiles.

“Well, first of all, now that I’m here and all…” She looks around, pursing her lips and rubbing her thumb and forefinger together, as if feeling for something. “I thought you being lost was just you being…well, you. But there’s definitely an enchantment on this forest.” 

Zoro’s eyes widen. So do Sanji’s, though for a different reason. 

“What do you mean? Are you saying this place makes you get lost?”

Nami nods, crossing her legs. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I mean, you probably wouldn’t have made it anyway, but this time you do have an excuse. Good for you, Zoro.” She says, and chuckles.

Zoro looks to Sanji with expectation for a brief moment, but the cook is oddly silent. He doesn’t catch the look of apprehension on Sanji’s face before he spits out-

“But that doesn’t make any sense. We made it to Thriller Bark and back yesterday with no problem.”

Nami is silent. “... Did you now?” She asks, squinting pointedly at Sanji. 

Zoro nods, expecting her to explain further. She squints further at the cook, but does not elaborate- for which Sanji thanks her beauty and graciousness. What a lovely woman.

“I have another piece of info that should interest the both of you.” She says now, still leveraging her gaze solely on the cook. Zoro doesn’t seem to notice the subtle communication going on between his two companions. He’s kicked off of the tree he was leaning on, now waiting patiently for further information to complete his mission.

Finally, she turns her attention back to Zoro, reporting dutifully. “Moria is holding a formal ball in the next few days. A fancy sort of get together for himself and some other high-powered supernaturals from across the Grand Line. It sounds like more trouble than it’s worth, but it may be the perfect time to gain access to his castle while he’s distracted. There’s just one problem, though. No humans are allowed in, obviously. Not unless they know somebody that can sneak them in as a plus one.”

Zoro nods. “Hm, I see. That’s easy- You’ll just come with me.”

Nami gawks. “Me!? No! I’m not getting anywhere near that mess! I stay out of danger and you do all the hard parts, that’s our deal!”

Zoro stares at her dumbly. “Wow, no need to sugarcoat it.” He deadpans. 

She shakes her head again. “That actually brings me to another point. Moria’s a lot more powerful than we initially thought. He’s been experimenting on himself to become stronger, and he has a small team of powerful underlings that-”

“Yea, yea, we know that already. Get to the good parts.” Zoro waves his hand flippantly. Sanji swears he can actually see the veins popping out on her forehead.

“ Ugh, you visited my contact too, didn’t you? She told Usopp that two idiots came in and then left before she could finish. If you’d stayed, you probably would have learned exactly where to find the castle, what’s in it, and all about the stupid ball! Then maybe I wouldn’t have had to come all the way out here!”

Zoro shrugs. “She was annoying. Kinda like you.” Nami and Sanji hit him over the head in synch. 

“Shut the hell up, dumbass!”

“Leave the lady alone, mossheaded freak!”

Zoro quiets down after that.

“ Regardless, ” Nami strains. “Strong as you may think you are, you can’t do this alone. As your handler, I’m ordering you to bring along some backup.”

“Handler? More like my secretary. I don’t need any help.”

Nami huffs a groan- such a stubborn jackass. “You do too! Especially if you’re going to get into that party. Now how will you possibly manage that …” She wonders aloud, voice clearly teasing. A manicured finger taps against her chin as she slowly turns her eyes on Sanji. He looks to Zoro, then to her, shaking his head and swiping his hand over his neck to signal to her- rather, beg- that she not continue that train of thought. She raises an eyebrow, her suspicions confirmed.

“I don’t know, witch. Figuring that out is your job, isn’t it?”

“It was a rhetorical question, Zoro.”

She looks to Sanji once more. He can trick her idiot all he wants, but she’s not going to let him get away with it that easily.

“Let’s see here.” She says, bringing up her hand. “You need someone to get you access to the party.” She puts down a finger. “You need someone strong to help you take down Moria.” She puts down another. “And this someone also has to be inhuman in some way, so that you’ll get let in.” Another. 

“Do you know anybody like that, Zoro?” She finishes. Her expression, though a smile, is merciless. Sanji is begging her with his eyes to be less obvious. She can see the nervous aura radiating off his skin. 

When Zoro says nothing, just looks at her with the expectation she’ll answer her own question, she sighs. 

“Zoro, your friend here-”

“I can get us in.” Sanji interrupts. Nami smiles. Finally. 

“How?” Asks Zoro.

“...I know a guy.” Sanji tsks, rubbing the back of his neck.

Wait, what?

“His name’s Gin. He’s a vampire who works for a pretty powerful guy in the East. I’m sure he could get us in if I asked. He owes me a favor.” And, strangely enough, he isn’t lying.

Nami and Zoro both gawk- but again for different reasons. 

‘He really doesn’t plan on telling him!’ Nami thinks, incredulous.

“How the hell do you know a vampire?” Zoro raises a brow.

“I saved his life once.” And that wasn’t a lie, either.

Nami allows it, for now. Zoro, on his end, is grateful- but in combination with…everything that’s happened so far, the night before and this one included- he won’t say he isn’t becoming suspicious of the cook. Regardless, he nods, pleased with the plan. At least, until Nami decides to make it harder on the both of them- perhaps more for revenge than for anything else.

“Fine. Whatever works. But-” She cautions, holding up a finger. “However it is this Gin guy manages to get the two of you in, it’d probably be easier if you went as a couple.”

The responses are simultaneous.

“What?”

“Nami-swan! Why?”

‘Because it’s what the two of you deserve.’ is what she thinks. But instead, she says, “Because no way in hell are they gonna let two ‘bros’ into a black-tie event together. Zoro, you’re gonna bring enough attention as it is, so it’ll just be more believable if the two of you are close.”

“What? Why me?”

“Because you’re hu-” She catches Sanji’s panicked eye and coughs, dramatically. “Because you’re a pretty famous bounty hunter.” She corrects. “And…yeah.” She finishes lamely, thankful that Zoro just rolls his eyes at her fumble. 

The fact that the real plan here is an unspoken one made under the one they’ve just spoken is not lost on the two supernaturals. For her part, Nami wonders what the hell this Gin guy even contributes, or if Sanji will really even contact him at all. No, the real plan is that Sanji gets Zoro in because he’s a fucking vampire , and there’s no way they’d let a human in otherwise- Gin’s golden seal of approval or not. And no self-respecting vampire would bring a human to such an event unless A. they planned on using them as an on-the-go juice pouch later, or B. they were a couple. A taboo, star-crossed couple, yes- but a couple. 

She shakes her head and straddles the broom, ignoring the way Sanji’s worry-stricken expression changes to one of blatant ogling. Ew. This guy was weird.

“By the way, if you need money for an inn, I can lend you some, but I expect 20% interest.” She says, pressing her fingers together. Zoro’s about to respond in displeasure when Sanji pipes up.

“He can stay with me.” Sanji says. They both look at him. “We should work out the plan for raiding Moria’s together anyway.” He explains.

Zoro has a few thoughts about that, but he stashes them away for later. Nami just nods, though almost every new thing said in the past few minutes has brought a new intrigue to her mind. She sails over to Zoro and whispers in his ear, despite Sanji being just a few feet away.

“Hey, Zoro, are you guys, like-”

“Shut up, witch.” Zoro hisses.

That tells her all she needs to know.

“Well, that’ll be it from me. Contact me if something goes wrong- otherwise, just let me know when the job’s done.”

They nod. 

“And Sanji?” She says, voice suddenly pretty and clearly a ruse. He falls for it regardless. 

“Yes, my queen?”

“Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Aw, fuck.

She grabs him by the back of his collar without warning before sailing through the trees ahead of them a good distance. Once she’s sure they’re out of earshot she puts Sanji down and looks him in the eyes with a truly frightening glare. All the pretty battings of her eyelashes and the sweet voice coming through her smile has left her. Sanji gulps. 

“You know that I know, right? I’m a witch. I could tell the instant I saw you.”

“Please don’t tell him.” He says, clasping his hands together. God, this isn’t what she signed up for. 

“I won’t. Not yet, at least. But, I mean, you do know who you’re dealing with, don’t you? That’s Roronoa Zoro, Demon of the East Blue. If he finds out you’ve been lying to him, you’re toast.”

Roronoa Zoro. Now that she mentioned it, the name did sound familiar. Hearing Zoro’s name with the title and all brings faint recognition to his mind. Yes, he has heard of him- He’s no one off bounty hunter; he’s the real deal. Famous for his ruthlessness, and good at his job, too. To earn the title of demon but not be one? Shit. This was even worse than he thought.

“I’m…aware.”

“So are you still going to help him, or what?”

“...Yeah. I can’t back out on him now. The idiot needs my help anyway.”

She narrows her eyes. “What are you getting out of this?”

“...Huh?”

“Hanging with Zoro. He seems to know you. How long have you two been hanging out? Are you two friends or something? Is all of this part of some elaborate scheme of yours to suck his blood?”

“No, no! Well, it was at first. But that was really early on! And, well…” He deflates. No way is he telling this gorgeous woman that he has a crush on her coworker, who they both agree is a fumbling idiot. 

“You like him, don’t you.” Her tone is not entertained. Rather, she sounds rather done with the two of them already, and she’s only been exposed to the idiots for about twenty minutes or so. 

“Eh? W-Wait, Nami-swan, you have the wrong idea! If it was anyone of course I’d love to take you out on a date, if you’d-”

She’s already soaring back up into the sky, pulling a hat out from thin air to place over her long wavy hair. “Call me if something happens. And be careful, the both of you.” She reaches a high point, where her voice is just barely audible, floating in front of the moon. “And if you hurt Zoro, I’ll come kill you myself.” She states, electricity inexplicably crackling in the air around her. Then, with a flourish, she’s gone.

—

The walk back to the Baratie is heavy with thoughts weighing on both of their minds. 

Sanji takes a glance over at the lethal swordsman at his side. Roronoa Zoro…He’s dangerous. But he also knows Zoro, and he also already knew that. Though the threat of Nami’s wrath was new.

What had he done tonight? Frankly, what has he been doing this past week? Making poor decision after poor decision, if he was being honest with himself. For starters, what on earth was he thinking inviting Zoro to stay at his loft again after the awkwardness of last night? He could only hope that Zoro didn’t bring it up. Or perhaps, that he rekindled it-

No, no, he still shouldn’t want that. Too many reasons for it not to work- as the intelligent Nami had not so subtly pointed out. But, even after all that had happened, his feelings for Zoro were still there. Even after seeing him cut zombies into more parts than they’d already been chopped up into before, even after seeing him behead a bombshell of a vampire in cold blood before him, even after learning that he wasn’t just any old bounty hunter- but one with a fearsome reputation…For some reason, all of this may have just made him like the other more. Maybe he had a thing for danger. Maybe he just hated himself that much. He digs his hands into his pocket and follows the trail of smoke leaping off the end of his cigarette back towards town. After a moment he remembers how Zoro ended up here in the first place. Shoulders hunched over in a feigned casualness, he looks again to Zoro.

“...You wanna check on Thriller Bark while we’re out here?”

Zoro shakes his head. “It’s late. If anything was going to happen, it already has. Let’s just get back and figure out how to deal with Moria.”

Sanji nods at that. He returns his gaze forward and continues his silent march.

Zoro swallows.

He feels incredibly…guilty. There’s no use feeling guilt over dreams, but still he does. One, for thinking of the cook in such a way after being welcomed into his home. Well- no, he’s not the type to feel guilty over things like that. It’s natural human hormones and all that. He’s not gonna apologize for having urges. But perhaps he’s…embarrassed about it. For himself. And for what it means for his own crusade against distractions that he is so shamefully losing.

But if he did have something to feel guilty about, it might be for thinking of the cook as such a thing, despite his own evidence slowly mounting. Could the cook possibly be a dhampir? They were exceedingly rare, but for that reason he had no experience with them- so he wouldn’t know whether what he was seeing fit or not. It would certainly explain some things. The cook had some qualities of a vampire, but many more so he lacked. Appearance and all especially, but his ability to exist in the sunlight was probably the most damning as to why he still seemed human. And the proof that Zoro did have..what, that he got lucky walking into town and his eyes were a little too shiny? Perhaps Zoro was imagining things. 

He tries to list off all the evidence for and against in his head. He had met Sanji in the woods at night- that was odd. But Sanji had done nothing to attack him. He made it through the wood’s enchantment, inexplicably…But again, maybe he got lucky. Nami hadn’t said how the enchantment worked, after all. He’d gotten that blood sausage in Thriller Bark, too…But that couldn’t really be used as evidence. The cook was a food weirdo; it only really stuck out in combination with everything else. The eyeshine was certainly strange, but it could always be a weird catch of the light…And he’d been staring at the cook’s mouth ever since that damn stupid dream of his- for investigation reasons only, of course. His canines were a little sharper than average, but nothing definitive. Definitely not vampire level. He had human eyes and human ears as far as Zoro could tell, and he walked around in the sun with no problem. So…he wasn’t one, right?

Zoro was no idiot. It all could be explained away, but in combination, it was certainly…odd. And that dream had given him a gut feeling. One different from the arousal it stirred up, anyways. But- what if the cook wasn’t human? Then what? What would he do? Kill him? Nah, he wasn’t worth the time. He seemed harmless enough. Unless he wasn’t. Zoro shook his head. He didn’t want to think about that outcome. He willed himself to sweep the idea under the rug, as he always had.

That being said, their plan to get Moria hinged on Sanji’s vampire friend getting them in. Why he even had a vampire friend, he decided not to dwell on, lest another item be added to the list. But if he was a vampire, he would just get them in himself, right? So he wasn’t one, there. Problem averted- easy enough.

If he did turn out to be anything, it would certainly complicate things more than they already were, considering his…feelings. His apparently reciprocated feelings. That was definitely flirting last night. And it had definitely almost been more, until Kitetsu decided to start trouble. He didn’t know how, but the sword had definitely somehow done that on purpose. Oh, right, that was another thing- Kitetsu had hated Sanji at first, for seemingly no reason. That was something usually reserved for the undead…Though, now, walking beside the other as he thinks this, the sword seems content enough. This was all too confusing.

He thinks back to how Sanji had bought him a drink the day they met. Was that flirting, too? Or just a simple gesture between men? Sanji had helped him out a lot, for seemingly no reason. He’d lead him home, bought him booze, made him food, had a spar with him, came to find him, offered him his home…Zoro thinks of how strong Sanji is, more than he expected of the man. Perhaps even on equal footing with Zoro, and that was saying something. He thinks of when Sanji loyally went to protect the Baratie, of when he saved the people of Thriller Bark, of when he saved Zoro’s ass, nearly going against his own (albeit stupid) ideals. Sanji was strong, but he was also kind. Incredibly generous, and compassionate, and he hid it all under a rough exterior of volatile curses and cigarettes, unless you were a woman, where he turned around and put on a different mask: a people pleasing pushover that lived to serve. The real Sanji seemed to be somewhere in the middle of all of that, one people rarely got to see. When Zoro thinks about it, he wonders how often he’s gotten to see the real Sanji. And if he’ll get to again soon.

He takes a glance at the other, walking beside him, and exhales quietly. Sanji may have fallen first. But Zoro had fallen harder. 

And he hated it.

—

The quiet duo makes it back to town and heads in the Baratie doors with Sanji’s key. It’s late, as usual, but Zeff’s in the kitchen chopping vegetables for tomorrow. He peeks out the service window when he hears them enter, giving them both the stink eye. Sanji internally sighs. He’s so nosy.

“Oi, Eggplant.” He sounds displeased. Sanji gives him a look, and he gives it right back. Sanji looks to Zoro, motioning for him to go on ahead.

“What is it, old man?” He asks, stepping into the kitchen and putting his light out on a nearby ashtray. Zeff crosses his arms.

“I’ll admit, I pushed the friendship. But I thought I made it clear I never wanted to see your dinner brought home with ya.”

Sanji blanches, his hair spiking up. “ What!? Oi, that’s not what this is!” He hisses. 

“Seems to always be what it is when that Ace kid is around.” He grumbles, looking grossly uncomfortable. Damn it. Sanji knew that he knew, but he kinda hoped they’d never acknowledge it out loud. This was so embarrassing. Zeff was practically his fucking dad. No, to hell with it, he was his dad. 

“Well that’s not the case here.” Sanji insists, crossing his arms. He blushes a bit and averts his eyes. “Besides, it wouldn’t…be a good idea.”

Zeff raises an eyebrow. “And why’s that?”

“Well, he doesn’t know.”

“Hasn’t stopped you before.”

“Would you stop talking like that!? It’s embarrassing! Just pretend you didn’t see anything! Besides, it’s…it’s more than that.”

Zeff chuckles. “What, afraid he’s gonna stab you or somethin’?”

Sanji looks back at him a little too quietly.

“...Oh, fuck, mosquito, don’t tell me he’s a fucking bounty hunter.”

Sanji recoils, his shoulders pinching tight.

“Eggplant, you fucking idiot, that’s worse! Did your brain turn to broccoli? What are you thinking!?”

“I’ve got it handled, shitty geezer! Just let me go, before he gets lost on the second floor.”

Zeff heaves a sigh. “You’re right. He does seem like a blockhead. If he hasn’t figured you out yet, maybe he won’t at all.”

Sanji relaxes. 

A stick of wood connects with his shin as Zeff kicks him with his peg leg.

“OW!” Sanji yipes, grabbing his poor ankle. “That fucking hurt, you old fart!”

“That’s what you get for making stupid decisions.” He peels a potato, his upper body not moving an inch. “You’d better be careful. If that cabbage-patch kid goes after you, don’t expect me to come save your ass. I’m getting too old for that shit.”

Sanji softens a bit, though he doesn’t show it. Zeff’s ways of showing worry are endearing, he’ll give him that. 

“Now go on, get. Your Juliet is waiting for you, Romeo.” He remarks with a roll of his eyes.

Sanji scoffs, but takes his leave. Damn geezer.

When he makes it up to the loft, Zoro is leaning up against the hallway wall beside his door. 

“What’d the old man want?” He asks when Sanji makes it up the stairs.

The cook shakes his head. “To be a bother.” He turns his key in the door and pushes it open. When they both enter into the familiar space, he can feel the awkward tension in the air begin to rise. He decides to remedy this.

“Hey.” He nods to the window on the far side of the room. “Let’s go to the roof to talk.”

Zoro raises an eyebrow. “The roof?”

Sanji shrugs. “It’s nice up there. Stars are out, too.”

Zoro doesn’t protest further, so Sanji heads over to the window and props it open. He climbs out like he’s done it a thousand times before- with the way he expertly grabs at a faded spot of the window frame and climbs up the side of the exterior, Zoro realizes he probably has. He follows out the window after him, copying Sanji’s path.

After a bit of minor recreational climbing, Zoro plops down next to Sanji on the ship’s flat roof. The cook is already looking up at the stars, a burnt-out cigarette still leaving smoke trails in the night.

Zoro follows his gaze. The night is dark and black and blue, especially out here on the ocean, but it makes the sprinkling of sugar-crystal stars spread throughout it all the more amazing to see. 

…It is kind of cool, isn’t it. He feels himself smile.

“Told ya.” Sanji says quietly, smiling. Zoro’s gaze doesn’t leave the sky, but he scoffs a laugh.

A few moments pass. The stars are reflected on the equally as dark and silky ocean below them. Somewhere in front of them a fish jumps at the surface, rippling the already-slow moving waves.

“So.” Zoro begins. “The plan.”

Sanji snaps out of his reverie. “Ah, yea. That.” He alters his posture, bringing his leg up  to rest his elbow on.

“I’ll contact Gin in the morning and get the details for the party. He owes me a favor, so as long as he’s able, he should agree to getting us inside. After that, it’s a matter of finding the right time to take down Moria.”

“The witch said that other powerful supernaturals will be there. Likely allies of his. We’ll need to find a time when he’s alone, and they aren’t around to butt in.”

“Agreed. And when we do get in, we’ll need to stay low. No drawing attention to ourselves. Especially you.”

“Why just me?”

“Because you’re the infamous bounty hunter. I’m just a cook.”

…He had a point. 

“Well, we’re both human, so we'll both stick out like a sore thumb regardless.”

Sanji swallows. “Yea. That too.”

He switches topics. “We should probably, uh. Come up with a cover story. For how we met.” 

Zoro grunts. “I forgot about that. Stupid witch and her crazy-ass plans…Let’s just tell the truth. We met in a bar.”

“Okay, but how long ago?”

“I dunno, two years?”

“And what do we like about each other?”

Zoro scoffs. “Nothing.”

Sanji grins wryly back at him. “You’re right, you’re insufferable.”

“At least I don’t look like a bleach-dyed emo kid.”

“At least my hair doesn’t look like an untrimmed lawn.”

“At least I can act normal around a woman.”

“At least I like something other than booze and swords.”

“Hey- I’ll have you know that they don’t like you either.”

“What? What do you mean they don’t like me?”

“They don’t. At least, Kitetsu doesn’t. Thing was screaming at me the first time I met you.”

Ah. He did remember that.

“Maybe it’s mad it got stuck with you as its owner. Maybe it was calling out for help.”

“And it waited til now to say something? What, you think you’d be a better swordsman than I would?”

Sanji laughs at that. “Maybe I could be. But I don’t fight with my hands.”

“You don’t fight women, you don’t fight with your hands…You got some weird ideals, cook.”

“The hands are a cook’s greatest tool. I can’t risk them getting hurt.”

“Fair enough. But I hold my swords with my hands everyday- doesn’t mean I’m scared to use ‘em.”

“Oi, you have a backup. If something happens to your hands, you still have your mouth.”

Zoro chuckles. “I guess that’s true.”

Sanji looks back to the moon. He looks pretty here. On the ocean, in the night. Like it’s his element.

“...You wanna hold one?” Zoro hears himself ask.

Sanji turns back around. “What? One of your swords?”

Zoro nods, though he doesn’t know why.

Sanji feels honored. Surely he has to say yes, right? “Sure.” He puts his spent cigarette out against the roof tiles. Zoro examines his swords. Which one to hand him? Shusui might be alright, but Shusui was also temperamental, and a rare blade. Kitetsu was a definite no. He feared the sword might somehow burn him just from touching it, but besides that, it was cursed. Wado…Wado was safe, but he also treasured it more than anything. To let someone else hold it, well…

Zoro takes the white saya from his belt. Sanji holds out his hands, gingerly taking it when Zoro places it in them. The sword is heavy. Heavier than he remembers them being. He chuckles, gently examining it.

“You know, I used to know how to use a sword.”

“Really? They teach that to you in your chef classes or something?”

Sanji unsheathes the blade just enough to see it shimmer in the moonlight, too nervous to fully remove it. “Nah. This was before…It was a while ago.” He shakes his head. He puts Wado back into her saya. When Zoro takes the blade back, she seems content.

“I learned how to use this sword at our dojo. It’s the one I’ve had the longest.” 

Sanji’s surprised. Zoro rarely tells stories- he doesn’t seem to speak extra details into his words unless directly asked. He scoots closer, gesturing for Zoro to continue.

Zoro scoffs, like he wasn’t the one who started telling it, but continues. “This sword originally belonged to my sensei’s daughter, my rival. She beat me probably a thousand times.” He chuckles. 

Sanji scoffs. Zoro, losing? He supposed everyone had to start somewhere. 

“How’d you end up with it then?”

“She died.”

“Oh. I’m…sorry to hear that.” 

“We both wanted to be the world’s greatest swordsman. We practiced together to make that dream happen. And we promised that at least one of us would do it. With her gone, that means I’ll have to fulfill that promise for the both of us.”

“I’m sure you will. You’re stubborn enough.” Sanji jokes. Zoro smiles back. 

Sanji gazes at the profile of his face. Zoro’s strong, but he has a gentleness to him, too. He just rarely shows it. He looks down to Zoro’s hand, splayed out a few inches from his own on the roof tile. He inches it closer, fingers twitching.

“Hey, Sanji…”

He jerks his fingers back, looking over at Zoro again. Did he just call him by his actual name? 

“Uh, yeah?”

“Can I ask you sort of a weird question?”

He swallows. Why had Zoro said his name? “Yea, what is it?”

“...You are human, right?” 

Zoro doesn’t look at him as he asks; he keeps his gaze forward at the sea, eyebrows furrowed slightly. Sanji’s glad for it, because he probably looks just as panicked as he feels. He manages to swallow down the shock on his face just as Zoro’s eyes swivel to look at him from the side.

“What do you mean? Of course I am, idiot.”

“...Mm. Yeah, sorry.” He scratches the back of his neck. 

Sanji feels the rise of his heartbeat come around now, finally catching up to the realization of what was just asked of him. He thumbs at the ashy remains of his cigarette, wishing it was still usable. 

“...Let’s get to bed. We can’t do much else until we get the information from Gin tomorrow morning.”

“Yea, right.”

The two of them climb back down into the loft, Sanji letting Zoro go on ahead of him. When they both lie down for bed- Zoro in the futon this time, Sanji in his own bed- he stares up at the ceiling, and thinks.

Chapter Text

When Sanji wakes up the next morning, he’s relieved to find that Zoro is still there. And still asleep, as well. His mind returns to the weighty question Zoro had asked him last night. He had lied. And maybe he shouldn’t have- it might just have been the perfect time to tell him, with the party coming up and the mood between them for once subdued, accepting, even…kind. Soft, almost.

But he couldn’t take it back now. He’d made his bed, and now he was going to have to lie in it. He shakes his head. No reason to dwell on it.

He gets up quietly and slips up to the roof again, bringing out his den den mushi and the scribbled piece of paper he’d kept in his desk drawer all this time. He dials the number, feeling anxious as he does so. He hates asking for favors, even if he’s owed them- and on another note, he hasn’t spoken to Gin in a couple years. He wonders if the offer still even stands. It begins to ring, and Sanji breathes out slow through his nose. 

The voice that answers the other end of the line is gruff. “Hello?”

Sanji tenses. Yes, he knows that voice. “Hi there, can I speak with Gin?”

“Who’s asking?”

“An old friend from the Baratie.”

The line’s silent for a moment. Then, a curt but genuine chuckle rings out. “Heh! Well lookie there. I almost thought you’d forgotten about me. How ya doin, kid?”

Despite himself, Sanji smiles. He didn't think Gin liked him that much. “I’m doing fine. And you? Not showing up on anybody’s doorstep begging for blood?”

Gin laughs. “Not anymore. I assume you’re calling about that favor?”

“Yeah, I am. You familiar with Gecko Moria?”

“Not personally. But Krieg is. Why do you ask?”

“I heard he’s going to be hosting a party soon, and I was hoping you might be able to get us in.”

—

Zoro wakes up to an empty bedroom. He shrugs, yawns, and pulls his swords onto his waist as he does every morning. He boldly waltzes into the cook’s kitchen, rummaging around for some food. Hm. There’s less here than he thought there’d be. Maybe he does most of his cooking downstairs.

He hears the window creak open as he holds up a box of cereal. Sanji slips in and gives him a look.

“You couldn’t wait five seconds for me to get back? Stop raiding my pantry, Marimo.”

There’s no bite to it, and so Zoro peeks into the cereal container, only putting it down when he realizes he’s disinterested with its contents.

He stands. “What did you find out?”

Sanji gestures to the couch in the middle of the living area. “You might wanna sit down for this.”

Zoro obliges, and Sanji sits down across from him, one hand already stressfully pressing a finger to his temple. Zoro raises an eyebrow, gesturing for him to continue. 

“First of all, the party? It’s tonight.”

Zoro’s eye widens a bit, but he shrugs. “Not like I had any other plans tonight. Let’s get this over with.”

“Well, it’s not just that. The ‘powerful supernaturals’ that Nami was talking about? He’s inviting the Seven Warlords of the Sea. In fact, Moria’s one of ‘em.”

“The Seven Warlords of the Sea…I know about ‘em, but not who they are.”

“I didn’t either. Not until this morning, that is.” He lights up a cigarette, listing them off on his fingers. “Aside from Moria himself, there’s Crocodile, a sand shapeshifter, Boa Hancock, a gorgon, Jinbei, a fishman, Donquixote Doflamingo, a demon, Bartholomew Kuma, a werewolf, and…” He hesitates, exhaling smoke.

“What, cook?”

“Well, there’s a chance Dracule Mihawk will be there.” As he says it, he can see the fire light in Zoro’s eyes- exactly what he was afraid of. “Zoro, if he’s there, you have to promise me you won’t go after him.”

“No way. I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

“ Zoro-”

“Look. I know the guy. Chances are he won’t even show up. But if he does, I can’t guarantee I’ll just sit by and miss my chance to beat him, once and for all.”

“You’re a good swordsman, mosshead, but not that good. He already let you walk away once; I really doubt he’ll do it a second time.”

“He’ll be the one on the run this time.”

The steely look in Zoro’s eye is sharper than usual. Sanji wants to push the issue, but Zoro gives him a glare that says ‘drop it.’ He does so, not because he’s intimidated, but because he knows it's fruitless to continue trying to change his mind. He can at least hope that Mihawk fails to show up, as is expected, leaving it a non-issue. He bitterly sucks in more smoke and puts it behind him, for now.

“Gin said he can get us in- they’ll recognize me at the door, and you’re there as my plus one.” This is a slight lie. As he learned earlier, he doesn’t actually need Gin to get in. They’ll let any vampire in who shows up. As for Zoro- Nami was right. He’ll be eye candy to everyone there, but as long as he sticks close to Sanji as his ‘date’, he should be allowed entry as well. Much as it makes him nervous to pull such a stunt.

Zoro nods. “Mm, sounds good. And our plan?”

“Gin told me about what he expects to happen, but all in all we’re pretty much playing it by ear. For now, let’s just worry about getting in, and then we’ll suss out how to get Moria alone.”

Zoro nods again, seeming pleased. “So we’re good to go, right?”

“Almost. It’s a formal event. What are you gonna wear, mosshead?” He starts to smile as he asks it, like he’s just waiting for a chance to make fun of the swordsman.

“Don’t tell me I actually have to wear a suit.”

“Of course you have to wear one, idiot, that’s what formal means. I’m guessing bounty hunters don’t typically carry those with them?”

Zoro just gives him an idiotic look.

Sanji rolls his eyes. “Let’s take a look and see what we can find.”

After a pass through not only Sanji’s closet, but Zeff and Carne’s as well- they find enough parts of a suit to piece one together for Zoro that will fit well enough. Black pants, a suit jacket, a dress shirt, and a simple green tie. None of it fits quite right, and none of it is from the same set, but his frankensteined outfit is surprisingly passable.

It’s still early in the day, so Zoro leaves to “prepare”- which apparently includes meditating, training, and polishing his swords. Sanji tells the swordsman to meet him back at the Baratie at strictly 8 o’clock in order to make it there on time. Zoro waves him off as he leaves, the patchwork formal wear tucked under his arm. 

Sanji spends his better part of the day helping out at the Baratie- a responsibility he’s been a bit flaky on the past few days with Zoro’s interference. It feels good to be back in the kitchen, to have something to take his mind off of the night before them, though he feels like he should be training in some way. Instead, cooking for Zeff again, though a comfort in familiarity, almost makes part of him feel a strange grimness at being back to it. He does his best to ignore the feeling, cooking away at Zeff’s recipes without thought- the ones he knows like the back of his hand.

—

When the time comes around, Zoro sheaths his sword and puts away the cleaning kit he’s been working on at the bar table. Makino is kind enough to let him change into his suit there, and after begrudgingly doing so (minus the tie, which he almost cuts up in frustration), he makes the walk towards the Baratie. He shows up at the restaurant’s door at 8:05. 

As he goes to push open the door and ask his old friend the maître d' to grab the cook, the door swings forward at him, a lithe leg clad in maroon just narrowly missing his face. Sanji steps out in a tiffy, growling at Zoro as he kicks the door shut behind him, hands in his pockets the whole time.

“Oi, Mosshead! What did I say about being late? We don’t have the time to let the grass on your head keep growing!”

“It’s five minutes! Is it really that big of a- deal?” His voice catches on itself as he takes note of Sanji’s outfit. He’s clad in a daring maroon suit with a black shirt and a red tie. It doesn’t seem like his color, but yet…it fits him. Very well. Like the color of fine wine. Or blood.

“What are you staring at?” The blonde demands.

Zoro swallows. “Nothin’. You just look…fancy, is all.”

Sanji smirks at him. He gestures to himself, posing. “Lost for words, mosshead?”

Zoro bites a ‘Fuck off’, at him, but ultimately blushes and turns his head away. Sanji’s smirk only widens. Then he steps forward, giving a yank to Zoro’s collar.

“Where’s your tie?”

“Couldn’t figure it out. I’m fine without one.” He says, still avoiding eye contact.

“ No, you aren’t! Do you at least have it with you?” 

In a foresight that he now sees he should have ignored, Zoro pulls the tie from his pocket, slapping it into the other’s waiting hand. Sanji takes it with a hum that says ‘that’s what I thought’ , before getting up close and personal to tie it around Zoro’s neck. Zoro swallows, and Sanji watches his adam’s apple bob as he does so. He kicks aside the small amount of hunger that’s brought about in him to instead relish his proximity to the other man. He doesn’t get to be near Zoro like this often. It’s nice. Domestic.

Sanji’s fingers ghost against Zoro’s neck for a few moments, and then he feels the offensive fabric tighten on his collar. He yanks on it when Sanji steps away. It’s tight. And annoying.

“ Voila . You’re event ready. As ready as you’re going to be, at least.” The blonde says, eyeing Zoro up and down. The suit they’ve thrown together for him actually looks passable, considering. And Zoro cleans up nice. He looks handsome. He’d say so, if it didn’t feel so out of place in their current rapport. Zoro just waves him off, starting down the Baratie’s deck and towards town. Sanji shakes his head with a grin, following the mosshead, taking his arm, and turning him the correct direction. Despite Zoro’s protest, his arm stays there until they reach Thriller Bark.

—

Moria’s castle stands far behind Thriller Bark’s urban center, far back and away into the forest on the other side of town. It’s tall, imposing, and looks as if it was built as a mystery house- asymmetrical and full of strange doors, additions, staircases, and extra rooms. As the duo stand outside the main gate, black and sleek and ending in thin spikes, supernaturals begin to pass by, following the path up to the mansion’s door. 

They both gulp.

Sanji leads, keeping their distance between the other attendants, some of which occasionally spare them a questioning glance. Because of Zoro, of course, but Sanji wouldn't be surprised if they were peering somewhat judgementally at him. He'd smoked almost an entire pack of cigarettes on the walk over here. He probably reeked of smoke and cologne. He was terribly nervous- mostly due to the unshakable feeling he had that he'd get outed tonight, one way or another. Whether sometime during the party, or in the next few moments as they're queued up to face the bouncer at the door. He takes his most recent smoke and throws the butt into the grass, clearing his throat.

Once they've stepped into it, the line fills with an uncomfortable tension as they attempt in vain to avoid the eyes of those in front and behind them. Sanji puts a hand on Zoro’s shoulder, pulling him close. Zoro tsks.

When they reach the front of the line, a tall, imposing man with a silver buzzcut eyes them coldly. His steely eyes are reminiscent of Zoro’s own- and likewise, are staring at him with contempt. Sanji clears his throat again. Zoro expects him to mention Gin- but he doesn’t, simply holds the other’s gaze- an unspoken communication happening between grey and blue. After a brief moment, glancing between Sanji and the swordsman, the bouncer moves aside, letting them pass.

“What was that all about?” Zoro murmurs.

“Don't worry your pretty little head about it, moss.” 

Zoro decides to leave it with an eye roll, for now. He’s a bit caught up with taking in the view in front of him as they step inside.

When they’ve both passed the threshold of the door, the scale of the castle becomes immediately apparent. Strange and large and sprawling as it seemed from outside, it's even bigger on the inside. The door leads right into the main ballroom, a gigantic swath of space under an oval dome of smooth stone ceiling. There's already quite a crowd, socializing between tables with white tablecloths and glasses filled to the brim with red. Someone stops by with a tray of said wine glasses, offering one to Sanji. They’re filled quite expectedly with blood, and it takes a lot out of him to politely decline. The waiter nods, flitting away. 

“Greeeat.” Zoro calls, watching the man go. “Good to know there's snacks.” He remarks, dripping with sarcasm. “I don't even wanna think about where they got that.” 

“Neither do I.” Sanji agrees. 

The blonde looks around once more, a bit frantically, for any sign of brightly colored and stupidly quiffed hair or a golden mask and long scruffy locks. He didn't expect his biological family to be here, but it was always a possibility at events like this. He feels a bit calmer as he realizes that they seem to be absent. Not like he didn't have other things to worry about. 

“Do you see him?” Zoro asks from his side. Sanji's momentarily confused, borderline panicked, before realizing that he likely means Moria. He wishes he could pull out another smoke. 

“Not yet.” He replies, and it isn't a lie. Although, there is a suspicious lineup of large, ornate white chairs in the far back of the ballroom, lifted up on something like a stage, overlooking the dancefloor. He pulls Zoro through the deepening sea of people to the side of the large room, both to get them out the way and to get a better view of the few seats that are already filled. 

They find an unoccupied table and take up residence at it. Sanji nods in the direction of the figures. “See that? Seven chairs.”

“For the seven warlords?”

Sanji nods.

At the moment, the middle chair is empty, but on one side sits a hulking man in a black zip-up shirt and a spotted hat. Beside him sits a fishman, who can be none other than Jinbei. On the furthest end of the chairs, sitting away from the others and looking quite irritated to be there, is the most beautiful woman Sanji's ever seen. Long legs, tight red robe, gleaming golden earrings, and intense dark blue eyes. Even the long black snakes of her hair are alluring, somehow, but it's exactly those that make him realize he shouldn't be looking at all, lest he risk turning to stone. 

As he thinks this, another figure arrives, plopping down next to Jinbei. A man in a black coat, his hair slicked back and a cigar in his mouth. A giant golden hook sits where his left arm once was. 

“Looks like some of them are already here.” Zoro observes. Sanji nods, and Zoro leans in. 

“You know who's who?”

“Somewhat. The gorgon is Boa Hancock, and the fishman is obviously Jinbei. I feel pretty confident that the big guy is Kuma, the werewolf, but I'm not sure about the newest one. Crocodile, maybe. Gin told me what they all looked like, but there were seven of them.”

Zoro's eyes scan them again, then the area around them. Looking for Moria, he hopes- lest he be looking for Mihawk instead. 

A waiter comes by with a tray of blood again and Sanji almost groans as he denies it. Zoro tsks. “Don't they have any alcohol?”

Sanji swats him. “It's not like you came here to enjoy yourself!” He hisses. 

Zoro frowns. He looks behind them, then snakes a hand around Sanji's waist and pulls him closer. Sanji looks at him incredulously.

“We’re starting to get weird looks. Act like you like me.” Zoro grumbles.

Oh yeah. They were supposed to be ‘dating’, weren't they? Sanji flushes slightly, leaning against Zoro and speaking softly into his ear, tinkling his three golden earrings as he does so.

“What's the plan? I don't see Moria yet.” 

“Neither do I, but it's hard to get a good look through all these people. Er, vampires, or whatever. We need to get across the floor without looking suspicious.” 

As if on cue, a skeletal hand somewhere begins playing a lovely waltz on the violin. Sanji grins.

“Shall we dance, Marimo?”

The look on Zoro’s face is telling, but Sanji nonetheless stands and pulls the other man along with him, leaving little space between them. He fashions them into a simple waltz, hand guiding Zoro’s waist, a gentle touch just above his hip. It’s odd in its gentleness- Zoro is not used to being dealt with so carefully. He decides that he doesn’t like it.

“Oi, why am I the girl?” He grits out. 

Sanji scoffs. “Because you have no idea how to dance. You’ve already stepped on me twice as it is. Shape up, will you? What happened to acting like we like each other?” He’s speaking in hushed tones. Everyone around them likely has the ears to hear them if they want to. They have to be careful.

Zoro, no actor, simply shuts his mouth. Sanji rolls his eyes and pulls Zoro against his chest. He bites back a remark and Sanji can feel the heat ruminating from his face on his front- whether it be from embarrassment or rage he isn’t sure. For Sanji’s part, his heart is racing. He hopes Zoro can’t hear it, but with that proximity, it’s obvious he can. Part of him is a bit too overjoyed with such a golden opportunity to even care. The mosshead, in contrast, seems to be angrily fighting a blush throughout the entirety of their waltz.

They skirt across the dance floor, weaving in and out of the other couples in attendance. At some point Zoro does lift his head again, but he doesn’t pull away- simply keeps a lookout across the dancefloor as Sanji keeps their lead. Sanji takes notice. Back to business, it seems. He watches the focus evident on Zoro’s face and the eagerness in his brow. They’re dancing, but Zoro is paying absolutely no mind to him- and somehow, it doesn’t bother him at all. He finds himself smiling fondly down at him. Red dusts his cheeks.

They’ve cruised their way halfway across the massive shining floor when the music dips, as does every couple following its calls. Sanji hesitates, and Zoro pops back into his reality, but he nevertheless leans Zoro down into a deep leaning swoop, hand sprawled across the tight of Zoro’s now arched back. Many couples around them give their partner a swift kiss. Sanji stares at Zoro dumbly. Zoro stares back with an equally dense, confusing expression. Before the moment has passed and he looks a fool, Sanji presses a swift, chaste kiss to Zoro’s lips and pulls him back up, rejoining the others in their waltz only slightly-off time. 

When they’re upright again, both avoiding eye contact and feeling awkward, speechless, and unable to think, Sanji clears his throat. 

“Sorry.” He mumbles, barely audible. He’s incriminatingly red.

“Shut it, Curly.” Zoro says back, almost as quiet, though there’s no energy behind it, like he whispers the words.

Luckily (some might say), Zoro’s eye catches something else when he averts it in his avoidance of the other’s.

“Oi, Curls.” Sanji snaps out of his thoughts at the new tone in Zoro’s voice. “They’re almost all here now. Moria included.”

Sanji twists on his heel, looking from where Zoro is. Sure enough, all but one chair is full at the lineup on the stage. In the very middle, massive and grandiose but not nearly as impressive as he was expecting, sits Gecko Moria, the man they’ve come to kill. The catalyst behind all of this. Despite it, he seems…underwhelming. Perhaps it’s all the warlords around him, or perhaps it's the fact that he’s just one sick man wreaking havoc on others while barely lifting a finger himself. Regardless, he briefly feels an eagerness to help Zoro take the man down like he hasn’t felt yet before.

Though, he quickly catches sight of what Nami had warned them of- his lackeys. Not sitting, but gathered around his massive throne, are three much smaller figures. A banshee girl dressed in stripes of pink, red, and black- a ghoulish creature with a lion’s face, and a rotund man with dark glasses and fangs. They certainly have their work cut out for them.

Zoro, of course, chooses the moment they’re passing right in front of a rather important looking noble to start blurting out the plan.

“I say we wait until he leaves his stupid chair, and ambush him while he-MMPH-!”

He has half a mind to kiss him again, but he doesn’t want to make the other uncomfortable, ‘dating’ or not, so he presses a lithe finger to Zoro’s lips, hard, and shuts him up. The nobleman with the top hat and the bird atop his shoulder eyes them with disdain. Sanji awkwardly chuckles. 

“Not now, dear! Let’s talk about that later.” He says pointedly, his airy, lovestruck voice reverting right back to his old one as he stresses the final word. He forgoes the dancing and ends up pulling Zoro along the rest of the way to the other wall, the green-haired man scrambling to catch up with the fast pace his long legs take across the floor. When they tuck behind a pillar in a less crowded area of the venue, Zoro frowns.

“What was that for?”

“You were talking right in front of some other vampiric noble, idiot! Do you want the whole place to find out what we’re after? Nearly everyone here has heightened senses- shouldn’t you know that?”

Zoro tsks. Truthfully, he’d forgotten in the moment. Not like he’d admit it to Sanji, though. He changes the subject. “Well, what is our plan? We’re here, he’s here, and everybody keeps looking at me like a fucking shish-ka-bob. We need to figure out strategy, but there isn’t any damn privacy.” 

Sanji thinks for a moment, recalling all that he knows about these types of events through the grapevine of those like Gin and other passing scruff. He peers down a dark hallway that follows the wall they’re currently laid up at, imagining what might lay at the end of it. Leaning down and ensuring no one is around, he whispers,

“Sometimes people sneak off to other rooms in joints like this to drink the blood of a human they brought along. Or, almost as commonly, to mess around. Let’s see if we can find one.”

Zoro doesn’t emote to this, but he clearly finds the thought repulsive. Sanji does too, to an extent, though just this once, he’d like to take advantage. He clears his head of the thought and they slink off down the unlit corridor. Rooms that seem adjacent to janitor’s closets line the right side, ominous windows looking out on the yard of the venue to the left. They pass more than one that sports sounds of anything but displeasure, and they both pretend not to hear it.

A few doors down from the last occupied room is a small, unlocked guest room. An incredible find. They slip in and Sanji locks it behind them. 

“Okay. Keep your voice down, but we should be alright now.”

“Fine. Our biggest problem is getting him alone- any chance he’ll do that on his own?”

“Yea, a slight one.” He thinks back to all the information Gin gave him this morning, heaps of details and maybes about these sorts of events and what Krieg had told him about this one. He’d been playing things over in his mind trying to remember them, all while Gin told him more. He’s surprised he managed to retain as much as he did.

“Moria’s supposed to be giving a big announcement tonight, probably within the next hour. I’m guessing it’ll be about those sick and twisted experiments of his. If so, he might leave before or after to prepare or step out. We could always try to corner him then.” He finds himself realizing more and more that perhaps Gin was more essential to this plan than his own coverup. Favor owed or not, he makes a mental note to cook the man his favorite meal later on- a thank you.

Zoro takes this info in, tilting his head. “Mm. Doesn’t sound like it’ll be much time- and he might still be closeby enough to make a ruckus. Any chance he’ll head farther into the castle?”

“Well, worst case scenario we could always stowaway after the party’s ended and kill him in his sleep.”

Zoro genuinely considers this, jutting out his bottom lip a bit and raising his brow in approval. 

“Wouldn’t be much fun though.” He decides. 

Sanji gives him a dry look.

Zoro smirks back at him, in no way ashamed of his bloodthirst. Sanji takes a single step towards him, perhaps to harass him about it, but stops dead in his tracks as they’re interrupted by a deep voice booming outside the room- a familiar one.

“Security. This room is off-limits.” It’s the bouncer. The doorknob rattles, then breaks easily. They look at each other in a panic. Zoro grabs his swords, but after a millisecond, rethinks it, for once in his life remembering to stick to the plan. He remembers what Sanji told him about these rooms earlier. Taking only a moment to look Sanji in the eyes, he lurches forward, plastering both hands to the sides of Sanji’s face, and pulls him into a deceptively deep kiss. 

The bouncer- his silver name tag proudly displaying Mr. 1 , pushes the door open and doesn’t even bother lifting an eyebrow at them. This is, clearly, the eleventy-fifth time he’s had to do this tonight. 

“Party’s outside.” He says, unaffected. He jams a thumb back out the door. Zoro pulls back, looking equally unphased. He scoffs, then starts walking to the door as if he’s just been mildly inconvenienced. Sanji, hair suddenly a bristling mess, collects himself to do the same. Perhaps Zoro is a better actor than he thought.

When they reach the hallway, they see each doorway before theirs has been pulled open as well. Mr. 1 leaves them without a word, continuing down the hallway to the next occupied room. Neither of them envy his job.

“Right. Let’s go.” Zoro announces, dragging Sanji along like a lost dog. 

‘Did he really just…do that?’ Sanji thinks, despite the fact he’d done much the same earlier. It’s different when Zoro does it. Zoro has no tact for these sorts of things. No imagination, no theatrics for romance- even one crafted for deception. Maybe he’s overthinking it, as he does everything else. Maybe it was just the most obvious answer to their situation. Maybe his heart is just still wild from having to will his fangs not to drop during a kiss that intimate. Wouldn’t that be a terrible way for the other to find out?

Zoro’s lead them back to the ballroom by the time Sanji regains his senses, now only focused on his warm, clammy hand tucked within Zoro’s steadfast grasp. They pull up next to a pillar near the wall again, away from the crowd and out of sight, but still in view of all that’s going on. Which, now that he notices, is more than waltzes and mingling. Perhaps the bouncer was ensuring everyone gather in the main room for a reason- Moria seems ready to give a speech.

Tall, disproportionate, and looking gruesome as ever, Moria stands a few feet in front of his chair, holding a microphone that leads back to a snail in the palm of Hogback’s clawed hands. It’s projecting to the entire venue. The other warlords are behind him, still sat in their white thrones, all looking various degrees of apathetic, annoyed, eccentric, or stoic. Sanji’s blood runs cold as he realizes that all of said warlords are here now- Mihawk included. 

“Ahem-! Testing, testing! Ah, perfect. Attention, everyone!”

Idiotically, Sanji stands stock-still, as if disturbing Zoro in the slightest could jostle Zoro, send him flying off the rails after the warlord. He’s ignoring Moria’s speech- only skirting his eyes over slowly to see what he can make out on Zoro’s face. 

“I’d like to thank you all for coming out tonight. I know it was a long journey for some of you, but I assure you the surprise I have in store for you all is well worth it!” And with that comes another ear-splitting shriek of a laugh that could likely wake the dead. Many patrons cover their ears. Sanji would, if he wasn’t currently laser-focused on the utter death glare Zoro is currently aiming at the target on the stage- the wrong target.

“Perona, if you would?” Moria asks, and the pink-haired banshee from before curtsies, before walking off stage for a moment. Absalom takes the broadcast snail from Hogback, who wheels a cart of vials and tools to the front of the stage.

“Zoro.” Sanji whispers, taking extra care in saying his name. Zoro rests a hand on Kitetsu, slowly, like a lion preparing to strike.

“Zoro-”

“Ladies and gentlemen, please turn your attention to our very special guest!”

Zoro and Sanji both turn to look, despite the glaring distractions, because what Moria now has on stage is not anything either of them was expecting. A zombie? They think at first- but no, it's not- just an old man so grievously injured and ill that he looks half dead. 

“What we have here is a simple human man- but not for long!” He laughs. “Dr. Hogback, bring the goods, would you?”

Now they’re both sufficiently distracted. They both think back to what that old woman had told them days ago, about Moria’s experiments in vampirism and pureblood-like strength, and individually they both feel dread well up within them. They lock eyes. They should stop this. Surely there’s a way to stop this, right?

There is not. By the time they look back, it’s because an anguished scream has wrung out from the old man on center stage. Hogback is standing back with a wide grin, a syringe still held in his gloved hands. 

The man falls to the ground and writhes in pain for an agonizing few minutes. The crowd is utterly silent in reverie or disgust, depending on who you ask. But then, after what feels like hours, he stops. He convulses, once, twice, and then stops moving. The warlords behind Moria look unimpressed, and for a moment Moria himself seems to twitch with anxiety, but then the man twitches. He lifts an arm, and moves to get up. Standing before them all is an old man, yes, but now- while still looking greyish and deathly- seems unharmed, and his eyes glow a brilliant red. His ears are still subtly elongating. He groans at the bright lights shining down from the ceiling.

“ KISHISHISHISHISHII! This is the scientific power of Gecko Moria!” 

The crowd erupts in cheers, applause, hollers, confusion- all of it a raucous uproar that has Sanji even more uncomfortable than he already was after…after that. He feels Zoro’s hand leave his own. What-?

Even over the sea of people, single eye honing in on a feather-plume hat through reaching hands and thrown pearls, Zoro is beelining it towards the warlord upon the stage- who now seems to be exiting, off to who knows where. He had the man right in his sights, but as his line of vision is continuously interrupted and Mihawk smoothly walks toward his own destination, Zoro quickly finds himself losing ground. Even in a confined space such as this, he seems to find himself lost. Finally he loses his line of sight on the man completely behind a swath of supernaturals crowding the man on the stage, and then he’s pushed back against a sparsely-occupied table. A half-touched wine glass of blood spills onto the white sheet, but a shadowy hand catches the other drink at the table- a thin glass of champagne. Zoro looks to the only figure seated there. A tan woman in a dark hat, raven hair resting serenely upon her shoulders. The hand that clutches the glass is not her own- it’s black as ink and made of seemingly darkness itself. Her own hands are folded in her lap.

“You should really be more careful, running around on your own.” She warns, voice deceptively pleasant. 

Zoro raises an eyebrow. She’s the first person at this party to actually attempt to speak to him, aside from the bouncer. But he doesn’t trust her- not at all. He’s never seen a creature like her before in his life, for once. But from her powers alone he assumes she must be some kind of devil. Dangerous.

“I can handle myself.” He states. He doesn’t have time for this. Mihawk is getting farther and farther away, wherever he is. He frees himself from where he’d fallen onto the table and prepares to glance around for the warlord again.

“What happened to the vampire you came in with?” She inquires. That specific word, the one that carries the most meaning, doesn’t register its meaning in his mind at first. Then the words fall sinkingly into Zoro’s gut as he hears the question over again in his head. 

“You’re a human, aren’t you? You should stay close to whoever brought you. I have no interest in you, but the others in attendance won’t be so kind.”

Zoro turns to face her again. Large, deep eyes stare at him from under the hat and a set of neatly clipped bangs. He almost hesitates. 

“What are you talking about? I came in with another human.” Even as he says it, Zoro feels the threads of doubt he had once before slowly falling away into coiled knots within his gut.

“Is that what you think?” She says, her pleasant voice challenging. “Do you really think they’d allow two human men to waltz into such a place?” She stands, and she’s eerily tall. She appears human, but there’s a dark glint in her eye. Another shadowhand grabs at the shawl wrapped around her body. 

Zoro is silent in his response, too busy fighting doubt and anger all at once. 

“They allowed you in simply due to your date acting chaperone. In fact, they likely thought you were a snack for later.” She eyes him, dark eyes reading him quickly. “Though, that doesn’t seem to be the case.”

Zoro keeps his eyes on hers, but he still has no proper response. She eyes him only a moment longer before taking her leave.

“I’d find him again soon if I were you. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

And with a flash of her shawl, she disappears into a shadow on the floor, inky hands sprouting up for just a moment before she’s blended into the darkness and gone.

As the old man on stage is taken back again and the excitement dies down, at least superficially, the music starts up again. People begin to dance again, as if a horror in ethics and morality hasn’t just been committed in front of their own eyes.

And on Zoro’s end, he’s just found out his partner in crime throughout the whole last week has been a vampire the entire time.

Zoro’s jaw is set tight. His fists are clenched hard at his sides, and he’s angry and confused, but he can’t think about that right now. Mihawk. He was following Mihawk. He looks in the direction he saw the man last, follows the path he was heading- he’s there, up on the stage again, though far behind the chairs at the front. He seems to be talking in hushed tones to the pink-haired banshee Moria employs. He rests a hand on Wado and realizes it’s shaking. 

He’s too shaken to fight Mihawk right now. Fuck, fuck it all. Shit.

With impeccable timing, practiced hands grab him by the arm and wrench him back into a shaky waltz. Sanji is looking at him with a fretting irritation.

“What the hell, mosshead?” He begins, apparently having thrown the ‘get along in public’ stipulation out the window. “Don't tell me you were going after Mihawk. We talked about this. You aren't ready!”

Behind the obvious frustration, Sanji is clearly worried for him. It shows in the slight upturn in the curl of his brow, the relief in his shoulders once Zoro is back by his side. It's giving him mixed feelings about his recent revelation about the other man. The biggest being, why?

After the beat in which Zoro doesn't answer, Sanji simply sighs. “Whatever. I'm not letting you out of my sight from now on.” He grumbles, falling back easily into the music and the dancing, a mindless way to keep himself busy while he both avoids Zoro's silent barrage and waits for Moria to make a move. 

Zoro allows it. He dances along with Sanji like nothing is wrong, and he doesn't know why he isn't immediately confronting him about his blatant lie just last night. Instead, he finds himself studying the man. The ease of his movements, the determination in his gaze, the considerately less-feminine way he holds Zoro's waist after his last complaint. He's searching for any sign of why a vampire would befriend him, follow him all this way, help him infiltrate this whole shebang- if not for some ulterior motive. But what could possibly constitute all this?

“So, uh. That old man.”

Zoro comes back to his senses. Yes, they needed to address that too. That first.

Zoro realizes he hasn't fully taken that in, either. When he gives himself a moment to do so, the palpable disgust he feels is reflected on his expression. 

“If I didn't have enough reason to kill the guy before, I definitely do now.” Zoro says, cold as ice.

Sanji nervously looks around at Zoro's blatant words, but doesn't scold him this time, for whatever reason. 

Zoro continues in his silence. “We should have done something.”

“There was no time. Besides, neither of us could have predicted that.”

“It's like that woman said. He turned himself, why wouldn't he do it to others? Fuck- maybe that's how he's been making his army of underlings this whole time.”

“Oi, don't talk that way. You're right- maybe he is. Maybe we did just bust this whole thing wide open, even if it took a tragedy to get there. But you don't entertain regrets. I know that about you.”

“There’s plenty you don't know about me.” Zoro steps on the blonde’s shoe. Accidentally, but he finds it cosmically fitting. He glances up to look Sanji in the eyes as he continues. “There's plenty I don’t know about you.” 

Sanji swallows, but makes no move to answer that. He looks away, towards the way they took the old man, and where some of the warlords have started to follow. 

Zoro eyes the cook again, harshly now. Not glaring outright, no more than his usual countenance, but taking in every detail of Sanji’s face, of his expression. He looks for any semblance of an indicator that may say something about his true nature. He feels stretched out in three directions, like he’s been placed on a medieval torture device, spun once for each sword. Mihawk arrived. A man was brutalized before them. The cook is a vampire. He can't take this all in at once normally. He can't take any of this in and be normal afterwards. 

He looks to the stage. Mihawk has disappeared, as has the banshee girl, at least for now. The old man has gone too, taken off stage where Moria, Hogback, and the warlords are likely talking business. 

There's nothing he can do about the first two issues at the moment. Not immediately. He puts his gaze to Sanji again and decides to face this last issue head on. 

At some point, Sanji spots him looking at him. He doesn't catch it until they're gazing into each other's eyes a bit too long to be normal. The music is swelling to another tune, this one decidedly heartfelt and romantic. He feels his heart jump and scolds it immediately. 

“Hey, Zoro…What are you looking at me like that for?” 

The question would normally be accusing, but Sanji seems genuine, only partially coating his voice in the usual gruffness. In fact, it seems overpowered in that it rather sounds more fond. 

“...Just trying to figure you out.” Zoro replies.

Sanji chuckles. “Cryptic. Have I not made my intentions clear enough?” 

Suddenly, it seems like a question with double meaning. Zoro finds that he would answer either one the same way. 

“...No. You haven't.”

Sanji raises an eyebrow. The quiet tone of Zoro's voice sounds foreign coming from him. But, it also sounds…like it's asking for something? Zoro's still meeting his eyes with a quiet conviction. Sanji suddenly feels himself melt a bit. His body relaxes, and he feels his eyes become lidded, just a bit. 

He leans in, slowly, pressing a long, steady kiss to Zoro's lips. It's unlike the previous two that night- neither rushed, brief, nor fake. This one is clearly real, and Zoro relishes it, despite all the conflicting emotions rising in his chest. Sanji's putting the perfect amount of pressure down with lips that are soft and taste of smoke and nicotine. Zoro finds himself kissing back, simple but with a heavy weight in its reciprocation. They're both well aware this is not part of the act. 

And yet, as Sanji ever so gently deepens the kiss to move his lips against the others, Zoro feels the urge to ruin it.

He nips at his own lip, breaking the skin on the bottom. Blood leaks from it almost immediately.

Sanji's caught up with the sensation of Zoro's mouth on his own, until suddenly he's gasping, panting open-mouthed into their kiss. He pulls back like a man burned and looks to Zoro with a gloved hand hovering over his mouth. The attempt to cover it is futile. Zoro felt fangs drop against his mouth, and sees them now hanging dangerously in Sanji's mouth- as if the reddening of his irises wasn't proof enough.

The blood now dribbling down his chin stirs a scene. Those that have been looking at him all night, anyone with a working pair of eyes and a nose, pounces at what they've been eyeing this whole time. Zoro is separated from Sanji in the madness; a crowd of vampires and werewolves and bloodthirsty creatures alike suddenly rushing him like a whirlpool of teeth and tongues. He can defend himself easily- he pulls Shusui and Kitetsu and makes quick work of those closest to him, cutting them down with little effort in a frenzy such as this one. Screams alight- of horror, surprise, or excitement he cannot tell- as he and his adversaries become the center of attention to the entire party. 

He cuts down another swath of people, then another, before a leg alit in flames hops in beside him and kicks aside just as many. Vampiric magic, he assumes.

Zoro greets him without even turning his head, too busy eyeing the new round of supernaturals vying for his blood.

“Cook, you're one of them?” He asks, voice strained, yet resigned. 

Sanji tsks as he kicks aside a particularly nasty assailant. 

“I was wondering how long it'd take you to catch on.” He shoots back. 

Although both clearly itching to discuss, the present situation is not the most opportune time. Wordlessly, Sanji falls in against Zoro’s back, and the two of them knock out guest after guest in sync, not a word passed between them.

Moria and the other warlords take notice of the commotion shortly after it begins. Enraged, Moria orders Absalom and Perona to take care of it- though a hand with ill-posed fingers reaches out in front of them.

“Don’t worry about it, Moria. I don’t mind cleaning up your mess for you.” The blonde warlord hums. He takes a few steps forward, and with the lift of a finger, Zoro and Sanji are immobilized by an invisible force. 

“Hgk- What the fuck is this?” Zoro groans, wriggling in what feels like thin, icy fishing wire- But he can’t see a damn thing.

Sanji, just a few feet away, wriggles similarly. He looks up in frustration to find all seven warlords staring them down, faces varying degrees of uncaring, save for Moria’s gang and the one apparently pulling the strings- He recognizes him from the ridiculous pink feather coat alone: Doflamingo.

“Well that was disappointingly easy.” He drawls, too-wide smile still on his face. He yanks them both forward through the air, away from the crowd of party-goers still trying to rip them to shreds. They bob in front of the warlords like a couple of flies caught in a web, though their bodies are stock-straight and the bindings are beginning to burn.

“What do you want done with them, Moria? You’re the boss, after all.” The demon sing-songs.

Moria eyes him warily. “I didn’t ask you to do that, Doflamingo. Don’t go thinking I owe you any favors.” 

Doflamingo only tilts his head, looking somewhat like a dog feigning innocence. “Of course not. I was just bored.”

Moria pays him no mind. Disregarding Doflamingo’s meddling, he looks to Hogback. “Knock them out and throw them in the dungeons downstairs. I’ll be down shortly to deal with both of our…uninvited guests.” He says, then laughs a high-pitched ‘ KISHISHISHISHI-’ that nearly threatens to burst both their eardrums. They’re both still sweating with effort as they struggle against the invisible strings when Hogback approaches with a syringe. He pricks Sanji first, and Zoro watches as he hesitates only a moment longer before going slack. He curses under his breath, reaching his pinky to the tip of Wado. If he could just get a grip, even the smallest hold on it-

Something pricks his arm and he feels his finger go limp against the saya. Everything goes dark.

Chapter Text

Zoro awakes with a throbbing headache and a woozy sway of vision. He’s sore. His mouth feels like cotton. His blurry vision is beginning to focus on a gritty stone wall across the cell from him.

Cell. He’s in a cell. He goes to wrench forward his hands- bound. They’re in shackles.

“You’re finally awake.”

He looks over. Sanji is right beside him, arms and legs similarly restrained. The chains give them each a few feet of movement, but barely enough to stand. Zoro closes his eyes, leans his head back against the bars, and curses.

Sanji allows him a moment of silence. When he opens his eyes again, he looks around for his swords. As expected, they’ve been removed from his waist. They don’t seem to be anywhere in the room the cell sits in, either.

With nothing else to look at, he begrudgingly returns his gaze to Sanji. The blonde is just about to say something when the door opens, Moria and Hogback entering with shit-eating grins.

“Well well well, looks like our party crashers are finally awake.” Moria sings, snickering directly afterwards. Hogback grins beside him, holding another syringe. They’re already imprisoned and chained, so he can’t imagine what it’s for, but he’s sure it isn’t good.

“I was surprised to find you working with a vampire, Roronoa Zoro. Then again, he doesn’t very much look the part at first glance, does he?” Hogback asks, peering at Sanji behind his little black glasses. “Like a dhampir, yet I don’t sense that from him…” He trails off, leaning closer. Zoro watches as Sanji seems to bristle, like a dog raising its hackles.

“Frankly, I’m intrigued by it. Such a thing could be useful, if we could harness its properties into our own concoction.” Hogback says, drawing closer to Sanji through the bars. Sanji glares daggers at him and leans away best he can, but the chains on each of his wrists and ankles don’t allow him to fight back in any way that matters. Still weakened from the drug, Hogback manages to dart forward and jab the syringe into his neck and take a small sample of blood before Sanji finally has enough, resorting to biting at his hand. He nearly catches him, too, sharp pricks tearing the fabric of the sorcerer’s sleeve.

“Oh my! A feisty one. Save that for later.” He says cryptically, holding the collected blood up to peer at before stomping back out of the lab with a smile.

“What the fuck do you want with us?” Sanji growls, palming at the spot where Hogback pricked him. He’s surprised to find them captured- he’d assumed they’d just kill them both should they be caught.

Moria grins, looking ugly and vile. “With the bounty hunter? Not much. But with you? Why, you may be a perfect specimen to experiment on. Tell me, that spiral eyebrow of yours, is it any relation to-?”

“Shut up.” Sanji hisses. It’s filled with such vitriol that even Zoro is taken aback. He hasn’t heard the cook speak with such hatred before.

“ KISHISHISHISHI. Fine, fine. Keep your secrets. The tests Hogback is working on will reveal it all soon anyway.”

Moria brandishes the keys for the cell, as well as their handcuffs, before dropping it back into his pocket. “Speaking of the bounty hunter.” He says, finally meeting Zoro’s gaze, though he’s still talking to Sanji.

“I figured if he likes vampires so much, he might as well let himself die to one. Dramatic, isn’t it? Enjoy your time together!” He states, turning to leave with yet another cackle. 

Zoro looks to Sanji, his eyebrows knitted tight, who looks back equally as confused- or perhaps sensing the meaning, but refusing to accept it just yet.

“Wait a minute, what do you mean? I’m not gonna kill him!” Sanji states, jamming his head over in Zoro’s direction with vehemence.

Moria turns slowly over his shoulder at the response, clearly expecting it. “Not unless you have no choice. I won’t be feeding you, that’s for sure. And who knows- these tests could take weeks! How unfortunate for you.” Moria coos sarcastically, before leaving the room with a stomp, slamming the dungeon door behind him.

Zoro watches the color drain from Sanji’s face, staring emptily at the door that’s now motionless. He turns away, feeling his own fear manifest only in anger at the situation. At the cook, at his own incompetence, at the gall of their captors. And now he’s set to die in the most embarrassing way possible: at the hands of someone he thought to be his friend, or more- only to be a fucking bloodsucker the whole time. Killed by his own mark. Pathetic.

The awkward silence that follows is surprisingly short, cut off by a nervous exclamation from the cook.

“Heh. J-Jokes on them, I’ve done this shit before.” Sanji rattles off. That’s odd. That doesn’t seem much like Sanji. He looks more like a cornered child than his usual boisterous self. 

“I won’t touch you, Zoro. I swear. Not like you’d ever let me live if I tried.” He continues, voice sounding a bit more like his own. Zoro still doesn’t meet his eye. He stares pointedly at the stone wall opposite the cell door, mouth set in a frown. 

The awkward silence that follows feels much more appropriately tortuous. A long stretch of quiet makes itself comfortable between them, interrupted only by the sound of chains against the floor. Finally, Sanji brings his legs up, crossing his arms over his knees and wishing for a cigarette.

“...So are we gonna talk about it, or not?” He asks lowly, sounding resigned. 

Zoro turns to glare at him. Sanji holds his gaze. At least he’s looking at him again.

“I asked you point blank last night. And you still lied to me.” Zoro states, punctuating each sentence with emphasis. 

“And what would you have done if I hadn’t? If I told you the truth?” Sanji demands. He’s countering, defensive- but part of his tone clearly implies that he’d like to know the answer. 

“I don’t fucking know! But I probably wouldn’t have gone straight to stabbing you, which feels very tempting now if I can manage to get my swords back before you suck me dry.”

“I’m not going to bite you.” He reiterates tersely. 

“Give it a couple days; try to tell me that again then.” Zoro retorts.

Sanji growls in frustration. His fangs are still visible from his attempt at Hogback, and it’s the first time Zoro’s seen them unobstructed. He feels a mix of astonishment and morbid fascination. At least their adversaries’ acknowledgement of Sanji’s ability to blend in makes him feel the slightest bit validated. He already feels fool enough. As if to emphasize this point, feeling somewhat eager to insist he isn’t stupid or a fool, especially to Sanji, he speaks on the matter.

“If it weren’t for your weird lack of biology I would have been onto you from the first night.”

Sanji scoffs. “You’re still stupid for not noticing.” 

He says without thinking, and immediately regrets his temper. Zoro is not stupid; he’s well aware that he blends in with humans well enough to fool a whole town- he’s done so since he was eight. He just hears the pissed-off tone in the hunter’s voice and can’t help himself from reciprocating on instinct. 

Zoro growls , bringing his own legs up to sit cross-legged, far away from Sanji as his chains will let him, and crossing his arms similarly. It’d look like he was pouting if it weren’t for the absolutely killer glare on his face, currently directed at the wall opposite them. He’d struck a nerve. 

Despite his own earlier admissions, his pride prevents him from apologizing, or taking it back. He lets Zoro have his little tantrum and folds his own arms against his chest, leaning against the cell wall with a pout. 

So, Zoro knew now. His dirty laundry was aired and the reaction had been…Had it been what he expected? He supposes he hadn’t been picturing Zoro to be free of his swords and locked away with him in a cell when he’d imagined the scenario thus far. If Zoro wasn’t locked up with him right now, would he try to kill him? He’d threatened as much. But, if he’d told Zoro yesterday, when he asked…would he have then? Part of him distressingly worries that he wouldn’t have. 

Wisely deciding now might not be the best time to continue to badger the swordsman, he looks to the shackles on his wrists. They aren’t handcuffs per se, his arms can still move individually of each other- he’s just bound to the wall by a few feet of chain. Enough that he could stand, move maybe a foot forward, but probably couldn’t perform any sort of a kick. Sitting, he can reach all the way to Zoro, even if Zoro has exhausted the length of his own chains. This seems purposeful on Moria’s part- his chains are longer than Zoro’s by a bit, after all. The implications of it make his stomach turn, but he attempts to be uncharacteristically optimistic. He will get them out of here before it comes to that. And maybe Zoro will at least forgive him enough to not want to kill him because of it.

He examines the metal, the thickness. They’re well-made, heavy and sturdy: both the shackles themselves and the chains attached to them. Even with his above-average strength, he can’t bust out of these with brute force. He begins checking each of the chain links for imperfections, even the slightest weakness- but finds nothing. He looks around for anything on the ground worthy of being called a lockpick, but nothing comes close. The cell bars are steadfast, as is every bit of wall and floor around them. The fact that the dungeon in a castle as old and nasty as this one is in such working order has him wondering just how often Moria has ‘guests’ inside. 

He starts going over all of it again, in case he missed something the first time. The instant his chains start clanging together again Zoro groans loudly and tilts his head in irritation. 

“You aren’t gonna find anything, cook, give it a rest.”

“What am I supposed to do, just lie here and let it happen?”

“Guess so.” Zoro says bitterly. 

“Fuck off. Aren’t you even gonna try?”

“If I had my swords, I’d have us out of here in the blink of an eye. But I don’t. And you can’t even lift your leg past your waist. We’re screwed.”

“...”

“The witch might notice we’re gone- Hell, maybe even your old man. But it’s not like either of them are strong enough to face off against Moria or the other warlords- no offense. Even if they tried, they’d probably just end up stuck in here with us.”

Sanji bites his lip. Zoro has a point. But he’s not giving up yet. 

—

Several hours pass. Sanji keeps expecting Zoro to fall asleep, but he never does. His eyes are dark and his arms stalwart against his chest, but he stays steadfastly awake.

Sanji can tell he will continue to have to be the one to speak first. Zoro is likely never going to do so to him again.

“If you want to sleep, I can stay awake to keep watch. I don’t need as much as you do, anyway.”

“I’m fine.” 

The answer is short and blunt. No further comments are made. 

More hours pass.

—

Sanji can only guess what time it is, but he assumes it’s some time in the very early morning when he’s surprised with a question.

“When was the last time you ate?”

He looks over to Zoro with troubled eyes. He clears his throat. “I ate dinner before we left for the-”

“You know what I mean.” 

“...When Ace was here.” Sanji admits, red on his face for multiple reasons.

Zoro feels a rush of emotions at this admission, some more infuriating to realize he still holds than others. But most notably, the utter absurdity of this statement.

“That was days ago now, idiot!” He yells, suddenly incensed. Fuck, they were even worse off than he thought.

“It’s not like I can help it! Pickings have been a little slim since Moria came to the area, alright!?”

Zoro laughs humorlessly. “ Pickings. Nice way to talk about the townspeople.” He’s had hours to recontextualize everything he knows about Sanji in relation to his true nature, but somehow, hearing it out loud is still worse. 

Sanji forces himself to quiet a growll. “You’re making assumptions that aren’t true. I don’t go around killing innocent townsfolk, if that’s what you’re imagining.”

“Pray tell, then. What do you mean by pickings ?” Zoro eggs on.

“Poor choice of words on my part, alright?” Sanji sighs. “I don’t kill people. I just take a bit from a drunk or a traveler every once in a while. Ace, if he’s in town. An animal, worst case scenario. Been doing a lot of that one lately.”

“Killing or not, you can’t just slip ‘taking a bit from a traveler’ in there like it’s all fine and dandy. What, do you just attack people in an alley or something?”

” No. Well-” He reddens, rubbing the back of his neck. “If I find a guy passed out in an alley, I’ll take a little before he wakes up. That’s the closest I get to being evil, alright? Otherwise, I…well, you know.”

Zoro raises his eyebrows, as if to say, ‘go on.’

Sanji grits his teeth. “I take them back to their hotel room and…we…You know. Don’t make me say it, jackass.”

Zoro snorts. “Well that just makes everything better.”

There’s a beat of silence, where Sanji is both annoyed at Zoro’s lack of empathy and yet still somehow at a loss for words on retorting him. Then Zoro straightens all of a sudden, looking to Sanji with shock and awe.

“Hold on a minute. I was a traveler! Is that why you bought me drinks that night?”

Sanji recoils. The shrink to Sanji’s shoulders tells Zoro all he needs to know.

“You were gonna fucking bite me! No wonder you were out in the forest in the middle of the night. I knew I had a reason to be suspicious of you. I can’t believe this.” Zoro turns his heavy glare from Sanji back to the wall. He’s frowning.

“Well, I didn’t.” Sanji says plainly, like it matters.

“And what made you change your mind?” Zoro asks, turning back to him with a scrutinizing eye. He looks as if he’s giving the other the slightest chance to make up for himself, and Sanji deflates, because he knows his answer will only make him look worse.

“The swords, mostly.” He mutters, looking anywhere but Zoro’s face. Zoro just scoffs, almost a chuckle, but devoid of anything resembling good humor.

The silence that seems to ebb and flow between them like a tide returns, as if the cell itself is its own small ocean. Sooner or later, the tide recedes again.

“Why is it you don’t look like one?” Zoro asks. To him, it really doesn’t matter in the long run. But it, in his opinion, could have cost him his life- and could perhaps come up again in the future (should he make it out of here, that is). It seemed important to the warlord as well. He watches as Sanji shuffles a bit, runs a finger or two through his scruffy blonde hair, and then meets Zoro’s gaze looking tired, more than anything.

“To be completely honest, I don’t really feel like telling you right now.” There’s still an edge to his voice, a barely-there glare in his eyes, but most of all Zoro can hear a plea in his words. Like he knows he has no right to be selfish at the moment, but still hopes Zoro will let him.

“...Fine. I have plenty of other questions.” Zoro concedes.

Sanji again aches for a cigarette. Nevertheless, he relaxes a little. Perhaps with this they can start trying for some semblance of peace between them again. He turns to Zoro and gestures for the other to go on.

“If you weren’t gonna get anything out of it, then why have you been helping me all this time?”

That’s not any of the questions he was expecting to get. He stares dumbly, trying to work out what he feels comfortable saying. The short answer is that Zoro had charmed him from day one, and shortly after that stolen his heart, stupid as it may sound. And considering he’d kissed Zoro not too long ago now, Zoro might…know that? Though, he thought Zoro had reciprocated- and maybe he had, at that time. That had likely, almost certainly, changed by now. And perhaps Zoro hadn’t been reciprocating in the first place. That ploy of his, to bite his lip- was that his plan all along? But how had he known?

Sanji realizes just how many questions he has himself. 

“...Before I answer that, I have to ask you a question.”

Zoro gapes at him with an incredulous grin. The grin holds no kindness or joy- it’s malice. Like he’s laughing at the utter gall Sanji has. The grin fades as he takes in a breath before speaking, low and slow. 

“You have some serious balls to start asking questions considering you’re the one who hid his identity for the past couple weeks. I already let you bail out on one, curly brow.”

“Yea, well, that’s the way it is, alright? We’re both stuck here with no way to get the other to talk, so take it or leave it.”

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Zoro so plainly pissed off. 

“Leave it.” He says, any trace of a smile completely gone from his face. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Wake me up when you’re ready to try feeding off me, ‘cause I intend to fight back.” He crosses his arms behind his head and leans against the back corner, though he makes no motion to close his eyes, even after a few moments have passed.

Great. The blonde watches him for almost a minute, but Zoro’s eyes never turn to him, even though he knows the other knows he’s looking. He feels as if he’s made the wrong decision in a strategy game, cutting off his chance of ever moving forward. He should have shut up and let Zoro grill him for answers, much as he hates opening up or bending to the swordsman’s will. 

“...I was lonely.” He says quietly.

Zoro glances over at him. “...What?”

“The answer to your question. Why I helped you. Part of it, anyway. I was lonely.” 

He hates saying it, hates it even more when he has to repeat it. He’s biting his cheek and avoiding the stupid look he knows Zoro is giving him.

“...Uh, okay.” Zoro replies, unsure of how to take it himself.

“ Ugh , can’t you at least try to meet me halfway here? I get it- I fucked up. I was scared. I lied. But none of it was to hurt you, you got that?” 

Zoro’s face, though still steely, seems to enter something like a thoughtful look. 

The vampire sighs. “I just…I was lonely, and you were…you were my age, and mytype , and-” He flushes, furiously stringing the words together, continuing on before that last thought can linger. He meets Zoro’s eye. 

“You’re gonna hate to hear this, but I felt bad for you seeing just how lost you were. And then you were poor and starving, too. It was kinda pathetic, to be honest. But you were also clearly strong, and then we fought, and I saw just how strong you were. And you’re driven, and- and passionate, and- so many things I could never be. So that’s why I ended up falling for your stupid ass, alright? That’s why I helped you.” He finishes, pointing a gloved hand back in Zoro’s direction. Zoro doesn’t blink, just takes in the vampire’s words and tries to make sense of all the open ends the blonde has thrown at him.

“...You thought I was pathetic? ”

“THAT’S WHAT YOU GOT FROM THAT? I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU, ASSHOLE!”

Zoro does blink, now. He gapes a bit, eyebrows drawn up in something like surprise and his mouth almost still a frown. Then he reddens, and he looks like something akin to angry, though the redness in his face seems more similar to that of a blush than any sort of fury.

“Okay, fine, I got it!” The swordsman barks. He holds his hands up as if to quell the other, which only sets Sanji off more.

“That’s all you have to say to that!?”

Zoro comes the closest he’s likely ever come to hesitating. “I- Well sorry , I’m not exactly used to receiving love confessions from vampires! ” 

The blonde quiets again, though he still looks inflamed. Despite Zoro’s lack of reciprocation, the swordsman doesn’t see any sadness there, yet- just exasperation. He’s not sure what he should be feeling in this moment.

“Why did you kiss me back?”

By the time Zoro looks up again to meet this query, Sanji has quieted, the flame of his vexation suddenly cold. Ah, so this was the question he’d meant to ask. In asking it, the vampire almost does seem sad now. But most of all, curious, genuinely so. It doesn’t make Zoro any happier to have to answer. He supposes he doesn’t have to. But he will.

He takes too long, apparently.

“Just to bite your lip and confirm your suspicions? Just to start a scene?”

Zoro shakes his head. Bluntly mock the other, sure. But play with his feelings he will not.

“No. I kissed you back because I wanted to.”

Sanji makes an almost imperceptibly quick expression upon hearing this. Then he makes a couple more, but ultimately shakes his head and returns to Zoro’s gaze. 

“Well, er…Why did you- What prompted the-?”

“There was a woman at the party, when I got separated. She told me you were one. I guess I just wanted proof.”

“...Ah.”

“...I was pretty sure by that point, though.”

“Heh. And you still decided to kiss me? Make up your mind, marimo.” He murmurs. The attempt at humor is weak, and just afterwards, he worries it’s too soon to try such a thing. But Zoro’s response, though exasperated, doesn’t sound more heated than usual.

“Shut up.”

It’s a small win, but he takes it. He slips it close to his heart, to come back to later, should they ever make it out of here. 

Though done through mostly shouts and squabbling, the air between them finally seems lighter. Zoro’s looking off, pink still on his cheeks, but his posture less rigid than before. 

“...I’ll answer any questions you have now. For real, this time.” The cook states, looking over at Zoro softly. Zoro straightens and clears his throat when he notices, but returns Sanji’s gaze.

“Fine, then. I’ll ask again. Why don’t you look like one? You don’t even have a turn mark. What, is it somewhere embarrassing or something?”

Ah, he’d forgotten about that part. He still had more to reveal. “Yea, about that…I was born this way.”

Zoro’s eyes blow wide for a moment. “...You’re a pureblood!?”

“Yea. A Vinsmoke, actually.” He says, tsking even as he says it. He says as much only because it does actually become relevant in his explanation. 

Zoro leans toward him now. “You’re a fucking Vinsmoke?” Though he didn’t know much about the warring vampiric family, they were infamous for both their power and their cruelty. 

Sanji scowls. “Well, not anymore.”

Zoro just stares at him, lingers his gaze on Sanji's mouth. “Dangerous.” He mumbles, tsking. It makes Sanji smirk, despite the bad memories. 

“Scared of me now, mosshead?”

“As if.” He mumbles. “You're mostly harmless.” This is a much different tune than he’d been singing earlier, though Sanji welcomes it. It means Zoro has either stopped seeing him as as much of an enemy, or has at least accepted that Sanji means him no intentional harm. 

In a some sick, twisted place deep in his gut- Sanji almost wants to prove him wrong. He wants to bite into his neck- break skin or not- and kiss up Zoro's throat to taste him- to make him shiver. He mentally kicks himself for such a thought. Now probably isn't the best time. He moves his leg and the shackle on it clanks a hollow metallic thunk against the dungeon floor.

The sore reality is he will not be harmless. Not after a few too many days in here. Not unless the practice he had all those years ago holds out. Though back then, he didn't have a pretty little bloodbag sitting right next to him the whole time. 

Speaking of all those years ago, he owes Zoro the story now. He bites his lip and sighs, bracing himself before he continues. 

“I’m the third of five siblings. We may be purebloods, but our mother wasn't. She was born a human, and the sick son of a bitch I once called my father turned her so he could have full-blooded children. My older sister was the first to fill that role. My mother…She loved Reiju, and Reiju was never as nasty as the rest of them, but I think it wore on her to see what Judge expected of her children. By the time she was pregnant with me and my brothers, she made her choice. To try and have us born as humans.”

Zoro raises an eyebrow. “Born human? How?”

“She drank a curative while she was pregnant with us.” He explains, mouth scrunching up in pain. “In hopes it would turn us human before we were born. It was experimental, something Judge was working on. But it had things like holy water and traces of silver in it. It made her sick. Really sick.”

“But it worked, almost. On none of us but me. I'm a dhampir in all the ways it matters: immunity to sunlight, measured back inhuman strength, less blood needed to survive than a normal vampire…And my appearance is more human, too.”

“I'd probably be more happy about it, if it didn't end up being the worst scenario to be put into as a Vinsmoke child. If it didn't end up killing my mom.” 

He bites his lip in place of a cigarette. Beside him, Zoro shifts uncomfortably. 

“Earlier, you said something about being used to this.” He says, gesturing to their prison. “What did you mean by that?”

“Oh. Yeah. Judge wasn’t too pleased that I was born weaker than my siblings, and he especially wasn’t happy that I wasn’t a bloodthirsty little monster like the rest of them either. So he locked me up in a dungeon like this one for a few months to starve me. Try and make me desperate enough to kill, I guess.” He looks around at the cell, missing the horrified look on Zoro’s face. “Eerily similar to what we’ve gotten ourselves into now, huh?”

He looks back to Zoro over his shoulder, who has by now managed to bring his expression back to somewhere near stoic. Zoro meets his eyes a little hesitantly, as if he’s worried he’ll spook the cook. He shakes off the hesitation fairly quickly: Sanji wouldn’t want his pity. And Zoro doesn’t give that out. It gives him a new outlook on the other, though. Perhaps he’s the slightest bit more inclined to forgive him, now. But not nearly close enough.

“Well, how’d you get out of it back then?” Zoro asks, as if Sanji wouldn’t have done something by now if that old solution could work again. He’s curious either way. 

“Heh. I didn’t. I was a powerless little kid. My older sister busted me out. Felt bad for me, I guess. She was sneaking me rations, too- enough that I didn’t die. Though it was still hell.”

“Mm. So, your old man at the restaurant…?”

“He’s human.” Sanji clarifies. “He was head chef on the cruise ship I escaped onto. Just happened to be parked nearby where our kingdom was. I latched onto one of the line cook’s arms like a leech the second we were far enough out to sea- Zeff had to pry me off like a dog.” Sanji says, chuckling. A traumatic memory at the time, yes- but a fond one, now. “He threatened everyone in the ship’s kitchen to keep quiet about me, else he’d kill them. He ran off with me as soon as we landed, and we’ve been toting place to place on the Baratie ever since.”

Zoro makes a noise of understanding. There’s still a fond smile on Sanji’s face as he recalls the memory. Finally he seems to remember where they are, and he shakes his head. “Sorry, mosshead. I’m probably putting you to sleep over here.” He clears his throat. “You probably do need some sleep, right? We’ve been up for hours.”

Zoro shrugs, jutting out his bottom lip.

“C’mon.” Sanji insists. “I’ll keep watch.”

Zoro scoffs at him again. “And how can I be sure you won’t latch onto my arm while I’m out of it?”

After a moment’s inspection, he realizes that Zoro is playing with him. The other man’s already adjusting his posture to prop himself up into a somewhat more relaxed position. He nearly sighs with relief.

“Guess you’ll have to hope someone comes along to pry me off.”

Zoro chuckles, and with a final scoot against the wall, closes his eyes. Sanji relaxes considerably. 

His stomach growls. He ignores it, planting himself in front of Zoro and watching the door across the room from them dutifully.

—

A few hours later, likely now mid-afternoon the day after the party, Zoro wakes up with a groan. He can usually fall asleep anywhere, but the cold stone wall of a dungeon cellar is a step too far even for him. His back feels wrong and his shoulders are sore. He sits up and tries to stretch, best he can with the shackles on his wrists. 

Once he’s wringed himself out enough he looks to his fellow prisoner- Sanji’s already eyeing him, having noticed when Zoro began to stir. He’s about to ask how the mosshead slept, but Zoro’s staring at him with a concerned, scrupulous look.

“Uh, everything okay?” He asks, voice sounding haggard. He hasn’t spoken in a few hours, that must be why. 

“Your eyes, cook.”

Oh. He raises a hand up to rest gently on his cheek, as if he’ll be able to feel a difference. He already knows what it is, though- and Zoro confirms it. 

“They’re turning red.”

He bites the inside of his cheek, bringing his hand back down. “Yea, I’m not surprised. Even I start to show signs after a few days without blood.” 

“...Get some rest, cook. I’ll take over watch for now.”

Sanji’s prepared to deny it, let Zoro rest more- get a full night’s sleep- but the swordsman may be right. He may not need sleep as badly as the other, but he does still need it. And right now especially. 

And besides that, it may be good to let his consciousness take a break. Every waking moment he’s in the cell, he feels himself craving to take a chunk out of Zoro’s shoulder more and more. With the red eyes come the hunger pains. The unwanted thoughts. The desperation.

He just nods, curling up on himself and purposely leaning away from the swordsman, to get his scent at least out of his direct line of sense. He briefly entertains asking Zoro for just a nip and then promptly forces himself to clear his mind for the millionth time that morning.

—

When he wakes up later that day, his eyes are completely scarlet. Previously they had been a red-violet, some of the blue of his eyes still shining through ever so barely, but now they’ve been completely overtaken. Zoro tells him as much when he wakes up and blinks bleary red irises at him. He can tell the swordsman is slightly disturbed, as much as he’d like to believe Zoro’s above being scared of him. He probably would be, if the situation weren’t so grave.

After the initial exchange, it’s back to silence between them. They still have lots to talk about, in his opinion, but now isn’t the time, and he doubts Zoro has forgiven him completely. In addition, Zoro seems to be deep in thought over something, and he himself is a bit preoccupied with fighting his urges . He’s never felt so stupid for skipping a meal. With all that’s been going on between him and Zoro and Thriller Bark, he’d honestly forgotten. He only fed every few days anyway, so it was around time to do so, but not the very last opportunity. Well, now he had no more opportunity, and his hunger was quickly coming to the forefront.

He hates it, first and foremost. Maybe now isn’t a great time to self-analyze (when is), but the apprehension to recognize his thirst for Zoro’s blood goes beyond simply not wanting to hurt the other man. 

No, much deeper than that. Although of course that is a big part, another growing reminder is his own self hatred. Internalized unworthiness and hatred of the self that is only amplified by his vampiric nature. Having to take from others to live while already hating yourself for the debt you owe, while already not seeing yourself worthy to exist, while already seeing yourself as a weakling for that very same reliance. To take from others when your self esteem is already low enough to take from you everyday.

Another big part is that he doesn’t hate drinking blood. Not completely. It’s fun, it feels good, it tastes heavenly, it’s his food and Sanji is a chef, a lover of all things meant to nourish, as much as this part feels like a cosmic bastardization on his part. He would never let anyone starve, including a vampire- hence the whole situation with Gin. His time starving in a dungeon had made sure of that. But at times like this his usual nonchalance towards feeding feels sick.

It’s almost too much to bear. He has, for the past 21 years, but this is the closest he’s come to almost acting on what seems like the ultimate crime since he escaped the Vinsmoke hold all those years ago. Yes, he drinks from people now- but never enough to truly hurt them. It was complicated.

He hates to imagine how much he would owe Zoro if he wasn’t able to hold himself back. How much he would need to grovel and apologize and how it would still never feel enough to justify it to himself. How selfish he would feel for stealing the very essence of Zoro’s life straight from his veins and then appropriating it into his own. A selfish, unworthy thief. Part of him can’t believe his plan had been to feed on the swordsman from the beginning. Part of him still wants to, insatiable hunger aside. Again, it’s complicated. He supposes it all boils down to one thing- yes, he’d still love to drink from Zoro. Just not like this.

And that’s all in the assumption that he doesn’t take too much- that Zoro doesn’t die. 

If that were to happen, he’s not sure he could live with himself. He doesn’t even want to entertain the idea. So he doesn’t. He’s twitching. God, he needs a smoke.

He takes a deep breath in and inadvertently gets a whiff of Zoro, too. The sweat on his suit, the smell of steel on his hands, the scent of blood from under his skin…Sanji swallows thickly and wrenches his eyes shut hard against more thoughts of quick nips and teeth sinking into flesh. Opening his eyes again, he finds them zeroed in on Zoro’s neck. God, it had never been this bad before. Never so blatant, nor so near physical in its manifestations. He physically feels himself leaning towards Zoro against his will and has to stop and correct himself. He feels like the phenomena of heavy eyelids starving off sleep personified. 

“Curly.” Zoro growls. “You’re staring.”

Sanji blinks, like he woke up from a dream. “What?”

“Quit looking at me like a piece of meat. You’re freaking me out.” Zoro says plainly, eyebrows furrowed.

The embarrassment that comes to him is overwhelming. He curses, looking out the cell and digging his fingers into his leg. 

“Sorry.” He says quickly. 

Zoro rumbles something off in response, but Sanji doesn’t even hear it.

—

Day two continues on like this. Every once in a while Zoro will say something insignificant, a random plan that won’t work, a question about who else knows they’re there, a comment on their situation that seems to be more in an effort to distract Sanji than anything else. But overall, it’s more of the same.

Zoro’s starving too, but not in the same way, and at least he’d had a proper dinner the day before. He’s gone longer without food before. Pissing in the corner of the cell isn’t his favorite either, but beggars can’t be choosers. When night comes Sanji watches while he sleeps again, but Zoro sleeps lighter and never too long at a time, and Sanji knows it’s because of him.

Day three is when things go south quickly. 

When Sanji wakes up from the small nap he’d allowed himself after Zoro had woken up again, he feels much the same as yesterday, just turned up a notch or two. It’s unbearable, but not yet uncontrollable. Then he hears someone approaching the dungeon door.

He sits up. 

“Zoro.”

The swordsman looks at him with a raised eyebrow. The alert is clear in the blonde’s voice.

“Someone’s coming.”

They both straighten up, and soon the footsteps become audible to Zoro’s ears as well. Shortly after that is when the door opens to Dr. Hogback, a syringe in his hand as usual. This one looks full of something sickly purple, which has them both on edge the moment the sorcerer brandishes it. 

“Well well well, it seems the two of you are both fully intact! I admire the dedication. Though, you’re looking a little worse for wear.” Hogback says, tilting his head to peer at Sanji. The vampire flips him off.

Hogback just chuckless, another annoying repetition of syllables that have no reason being included in laughter. 

“I did some tests on your blood sample. Who knew you were a pureblood! It seems the master was correct in his assumption that you were of the Vinsmoke family.”

At the mention of the name, Sanji’s expression darkens.

“We considered reaching out for a ransom, but found you to be more valuable as a specimen instead. Besides, you’re the one they didn’t want back, aren’t you?” 

Hogback laughs again, and Sanji just keeps his hardened glare on the other and his stupid outfit. He doesn’t want to turn around and risk seeing some kind of pitying look on Zoro’s face.

“None of that matters, though. You’ll be glad to hear that your blood was indeed useful in isolating qualities that hide vampirism physically on the user. And another genetic sample of pureblood DNA improved the vigor of our original concoction as well. We thank you for your part in this experiment.” Hogback says, bowing like a rotund ballerina with none of the grace or sincerity. 

“That being said, we still have one more test to run on you.”

Sanji feels goosebumps rise on his skin and he zeroes in on the needle in Hogback’s hand again. Behind him, he can sense Zoro’s wariness as well.

“You see, we thought you’d have killed each other by now. Or at least taken care of the swordsman. Moria wants you gone, and he doesn’t want to keep you here any longer where someone might come looking. And what good timing, too, because I used the rest of your blood sample to create an injection that will correct that strange half-ness of yours!” Hogback seems absolutely delighted, and so it takes a moment for the words to fully register in Sanji’s brain.

“Correct the…? What the hell do you mean?” He says, voice even and dripping with dread.

“This little medicine here should make you just as full blooded as the rest of your family. And along with it, should make you hungry enough to take out your cell partner, as well. Convenient, isn’t it? FOSfosfosfosfos!”

Sanji pales to the whiteness of a sheet, though he was already quite pale to begin with. He looks back to Zoro, perhaps in some sort of desperation, and finds the swordsman looking rigid, but not scared. Glaring, but not at him. He follows the gaze back out of the cell to Hogback, who’s approaching with the syringe.

He stands up and leans as far back as he can from the cell bars. Zoro is up now, too, attempting to pull him back and step in front of him at the same time, but the chains just won’t allow it. Throughout this struggle Hogback reaches his hand through the bars, and Sanji kicks it as best as he can with the shackles on his ankles. He hits him a few times, and though they hurt, it’s nothing that could seriously deter him. Still, it’s annoying, and Zoro’s swiping and kicking at him too, and even the cook, who refuses to fight with his hands, is swiping at Hogback with sharp nails every time he tries to get the serum near his skin. Finally the sorcerer has had enough. He lives up to his title and utters a quick spell that pins Sanji down with an odd purple haze, and a needle finds itself in his shoulder despite Zoro’s yelling and punching and reaching. 

It’s not instantaneous. There’s a moment of silence where he’s bug-eyed, waiting in paralyzed fear for something to happen. Zoro’s looking at him in almost the same way. Hogback releases whatever spell he’s cast, and despite the damage being done, Sanji moves the instant he’s free and bites down hard on the sorcerer’s hand. Hogback screams, and Sanji crunches the bones of his hands between his teeth. The serum hasn’t taken effect yet; he isn’t even trying for blood- he just wants him to hurt. 

Hogback screams and wails and then some other spell he doesn’t recognize hits him across the face and he lets go. The sorcerer pulls his hand back and breathes loudly, clenching the bleeding digits to his chest and sniffling as tears fall from behind his puny black glasses.

“You- You wretched moron! Didn’t you ever hear not to bite the hand that feeds you!?”

Sanji just pants, somehow barely affected by the blood dripping down his chin. He’s too full of adrenaline to care right now. 

“Whatever! You’ll get what’s coming to you soon enough. Both of you.” Hogback whines, picking up the syringe he dropped and hobbling out of the dungeon clutching his hand. The door slams behind him, a trail of blood drip-dropped across the floor.

With the excitement fading, Sanji comes back to himself for a moment. Something pulses in his veins and he cries out, hunching over and clutching at his heart, his chest, his bones, his blood . Everything suddenly feels like it’s on fire. And every second that passes has him feeling a thousand times hungrier than before, which he thought wasn’t possible. He thought he was near the threshold, but now he sees it has been reinvented. He gasps and pants and Zoro is yelling at him and he can’t even hear it over the blood rushing in his ears. He finds himself licking the blood off his lips and chin and even his hands, which he has dragged across the cobblestone of the floor where droplets were once soaking into the porous rock. 

When his heart rate drops and he feels sane again (at least in the barest sense of the word) he wipes the mess from his face and begins to hear the words spilling out of Zoro’s mouth. 

“ - shit, shit- Cook? Can you fucking hear me?”

Sanji looks at him like a deer caught in a pair of headlights and then immediately lurches his eyes away. Even the sight of the man across from him enhances his bloodlust. The few sorry drops of Hogback’s blood did nothing for him- if anything, they made it worse. 

“Fuck.” He says to himself, or maybe to Zoro, or maybe to both of them. Zoro reaches out an uncharacteristically ginger hand and Sanji shakes his head before it touches him. Zoro draws it back and places it flat on the cool ground.

“Oi, cook. Talk to me. What’s happening?”

Sanji’s not sure he can talk. He looks at Zoro again and can practically see the veins flowing under his neck. 

He swallows. 

“Do you think…maybe just a little, wouldn’t hurt?”

Chapter Text

Zoro is not easily disturbed, but the scene that unfolds in front of him after Hogback administers the shot into Sanji deeply unsettles him. 

When Sanji lurches forward and digs his fangs into Hogback's hand, he's the slightest amount of bothered, but only to see Sanji fight in such a way: so feral, so…inhuman. But he's glad to see Hogback get what's coming to him. As he hears Hogback's bones crack, he almost wants to yell ‘ Bite harder.’

But his initial judgement of ‘inhuman’ pales in comparison to what he soon watches as the man he had almost fallen in love with buckles over, screaming in pain as the last bits of humanity still visible on him are torn away. Ears became longer, sharp and pointed, and his skin pales beyond what it already had. His scarlet eyes were already far gone- but now the low light of the dungeon reflects off of them in that way of a nocturnal animal he had only seen once before. With his mouth open in a scream of agony, the fact his fangs had reached their full, intimidating length and sharpness was clear to see- dwarfing the pointed canines he had not long ago.

But none of this unsettled him as much as the look Sanji gave him when he finally met his eyes again, after all of it was over. So hungry, but now without any of the guilt. 

—

“Do you think…maybe just a little, wouldn’t hurt?” 

Sanji can’t believe he even asked, and yet he can’t manage to feel bad about it at the moment.

Zoro’s only response is a muttered, “Fuck.” He doesn’t even say it to Sanji, like he already thinks the other is too far gone- just mutters it to himself and looks away. Unfortunately, Sanji is well and sane enough to recognize what he’s just asked- he’s just that desperate.

And yet, he feels his sanity slipping away bit by bit.

Much like he’s drunk, he’s still himself, but in an altered state of poor judgement and impulsive actions, and he feels claggy and hazy in a way that makes him think he might not remember this later. 

Maybe he is too far gone. 

Zoro keeps a watchful eye on the man in front of him. At the moment Sanji is still sitting against the front of the cell where Hogback had him, looking strung out and pathetic, though it’s the animalistic desperation in him that makes him so dangerous. It’s been almost 72 hours since he found out the cook was a vamp, and yet still a scene like this throws him off. 

He shakes his head a bit, meeting Sanji’s eyes. “C’mon cook, don’t lose yourself now. I know you’re stronger than that.”

Sanji groans, gritting his teeth. “Fuck- I am, I’m still me. Sorry. Pretend I didn’t say that.” But Zoro can see how much it’s weighing on him just to grit that out. Like a drunk man trying to prove he’s sober enough to drive. 

Zoro’s concerned. Not just for himself, either- he’s genuinely concerned for Sanji’s wellbeing in this state. If such a change is permanent, he can’t imagine how Sanji will take it, not to mention how it might feel right now. He’s never been good at expressing concern- care- through words, only actions- but he’s quite obviously unable to do much at the moment. 

“Sanji. Look at me.”

Sanji’s head swivels up, inhumanly fast. He swallows.

“I can’t fight you off. If you give in, that’s it. So you have to keep it together.”

He very pointedly ensures Sanji is looking in his eyes. “…I trust you.”

Sanji stares a moment, then bites his lip. It bleeds, and he curses, but nods nonetheless. “Yea.” He rasps. “I hear you.”

A moment passes. “...Does it hurt?” Zoro finds himself asking. 

Sanji nods. “Yea. Kinda feels like starving to death and withdrawal all at once. Hurt like a bitch when it started working, too.”

“...When we get out of here, I’ll have the medic the witch and I work with take a look at you. Maybe he can reverse the effects. He’s a good doctor.”

‘When we get out of here.’ Sanji thinks. He chuckles sourly. Zoro’s sure changed his tune. He used to be the pessimist out of the two of them. He guesses one of them has to do it, and he’s not in the state to do much except try and keep his damn mouth to himself. 

Renewed with the idea of trying to get out again, he tests his strength. Weak from hunger and a fresh dose of Hogback’s poison, yes, but he is technically supposed to be full-blooded now, right? So his strength should reflect that? He sits up, catching Zoro’s attention the instant he starts to move. Pulling up the shackles on his hands, he takes a deep breath, and with a rapid yank pulls hard against the chains attached to the cell walls. The metal clang rings throughout the dungeon, and it makes such a horrid noise that he thinks at first he must have done something, but no, the chains are still there, unbroken. He tries again, and again, and then starts yanking both at once and growling in frustration as it all proves fruitless. Finally his strength gives in to his lack of nutrition and his knees buckle, sending him tumbling down next to Zoro. The other curses, catching him awkwardly with hands not able to reach far enough. Sanji tumbles against Zoro’s shoulder and breathes in the scent of his closeness. Fuck. 

Zoro seems to realize the situation they’ve ended up in, too. Sanji is staring at his neck now. His eyes are as wide as dinner plates and his hand is clutching hard at Zoro’s shirt. 

“Oi, Cook -” He warns.

In hindsight, he’s surprised the other held out as long as he did, even after the serum was injected. 

Sanji sneaks closer to his neck and Zoro calls his name again, to no response. He grabs Sanji’s arm, squeezing to get his attention, to hold him in place- Sanji overpowers him easily and presses him against the hard stone wall.

“Hey, Marimo…Just let me see your neck. Just a little. I won’t bite, I promise…” He slurs, and Zoro wonders how many people have heard such words before their demise. He reaches for his waist on instinct even though he knows his swords aren’t there. He grasps air and his other hand still holds Sanji’s arm uselessly.

Sanji slips his head into the space between Zoro’s neck and shoulder with surprising slowness and care, ghosting his nose against the swordsman’s throat and breathing out a hot puff of air. Zoro swallows. “Cook-”

Lips find his neck and ghost over it in a way that gives him goosebumps- fear and anticipation alike. In any other situation, perhaps before he’d learned what Sanji was, he would have welcomed a position like this. 

Instead, he finds himself in a state of desperate anticipation, at this point almost hoping to get it done and over with. He’s leaning away with teeth grit, unsure if saying anything is even worth it at this point. He feels another hot breath flow over his skin and he’s sure it’ll soon be met with the feeling of a wet, warm tongue skimming over his neck, too. But it doesn’t come. Sanji hesitates there, stirs, clearly facing an inner turmoil of some kind, then leans away quite anticlimactically. Zoro blinks, watches him lean tiredly against the wall again, face pulled tight in focus, and his admiration for the other grows a few sizes, despite the circumstance.

“Sanji,” He starts again. 

“Sorry.” He rasps, not even looking at him. “You can trust me.” He forces out, and Zoro knows he can, he has this whole time. Maybe that pep talk he’d given to the blonde had instilled some misunderstanding in him. 

He did trust the cook, even after all this. Whether he had the willpower to hold back or not didn’t feel fair to judge him on anymore, not after that shot- after days without feeding. And yet the cook was still impressing him.

“I do trust you, idiot. When I said that, I meant it.”

“Which is why I have to-” Sanji clamps his mouth down mid sentence, like even speaking makes him lose focus. 

“Just do what you can.” Zoro says, leaning in front of the other’s face to ensure he sees Zoro’s firm gaze. It makes Sanji’s heart flutter. 

Sanji opens his mouth again, fangs hanging in midair as he hesitates to form the words, but he’s soon cut off by the sound of the door busting open, heavy metal and oak slamming against the wall of the dungeon. It bounces off the wall and shakes, and through the opening zips a speedy broom and the relieved face of a certain red-haired witch. She hops off the broom and folds the length of it into its compact, staff-like form, catching her breath before breaking into a wide smile. 

“Zoro! You’re alright!” Nami cries, sounding more happy to see him than he thinks he’s ever seen her. In fact, he’s not sure he’s ever heard her speak to him with such a tone, and he’s surprised to find himself grinning stupidly back at her like she’s his best friend in the world. Hell, right now? She might as well be. 

Sanji jolts out of his haze to gawk at her, and similarly lights up. “Oh my god. You’re an angel.” He squeaks. 

“Yikes, you look a helluva lot worse than the last time I saw you.” She gives him a pitied look, then quickly seems to glance over Zoro for any sign of injury. Finding none, she sighs, and then twirls what was once her broom in her hands, the surface turning blue as she focuses her magic. 

“Stand back as far as you can, both of you.” She orders. They oblige, blindly, and with one more spin and a determined “ Thunderbolt Tempo!” a crash of light and pressure explodes before them, busting the cell door open. When the smoke (and the thick black storm cloud) clears, Nami is standing proudly before them, hand on her hip. 

“Now let’s get you out of those chains, shall we?”

They both manage a grin at their savior.

No magic is necessary here- as the witch happens to be an experienced lockpick. She pulls one from her hair and gets to work on Zoro first, breaking him free at record speeds. As he stands and she gets to work on Sanji, he rubs at the raw spots on his wrists and eyes her with disbelief. 

“How the hell did you find us?” He asks.

The shackles from Sanji’s wrists fall free. She pockets her lockpick and nods for them to follow her, quickly. “I used a tracking spell. Same way I always find you, dummy.”

“Yea, but- how did you-?”

“Get in? Well, party’s way over if you didn’t catch that. It’s just Moria and his goons now, and sneaking in past those idiots was easy with a couple mirage tricks. That being said, let’s hurry up and get the hell out of here.” She says, urging them fast as she can through the dingy hallways of the castle’s lower levels. Sanji’s weak gait and Zoro’s stubborn hesitation are not making it easy, but they maintain a somewhat steady pace.

“But what about-?”

“Nope! Not worrying about it!” She says, stopping momentarily at an intersection as she tries to remember the quickest way up and out. 

“Hold on, witch! I can’t leave without my swords.”

She turns, seeming to just now realize that he’s without them. It makes her face fall, because she knows him too well, and she knows that he stupidly, absolutely will not leave without them. She groans, throwing her head back. 

“Of course you couldn’t make it easy. I’m out here risking my life to save you, and you just have to make it hard.” She grumbles, but ultimately brings out her staff again in an attempt to search for some sort of sign. She doesn’t know any spells to look for swords , but maybe she can work out something.

As she goes to do so, footsteps approach them from the right. They all turn to the sight of not just one, or two, but three faces staring them down. Hogback, Absalom, and Perona linger in the doorway, an assortment of miffed-looking underlings.

“You-! How on earth did you escape?” Hogback looks at Sanji’s sorry state, and then to Zoro. “And how on earth did you survive!?”

Sanji lights his foot in a powerful flame that burns brighter than it used to, Zoro’s sure. He steps in front of the swordsman and the witch and growls. “You’re gonna pay for what you did to me, and all the rest of the people of Thriller Bark, too.” Despite his weak state, he doesn’t seem intimidated in the slightest. In fact, he seems to be standing quite firm at the moment. Itching for a fight- or at least for blood.

Absalom snarls, stepping in and attacking before Hogback can even reply. Sanji meets his claws with a heavy hit of his foot, and the fight is on, animalistic and wild.

Despite his current lack of equipment, Zoro can fight without his swords. It’s not his favorite, not by a longshot, but he isn’t incompetent in hand to hand combat. He takes a determined step forward and aims a heavy punch at Hogback, who squeals pathetically and ducks just barely enough to avoid a quick knockout.

“ Eep! Perona, help me out here!” He commands. Strangely enough, the banshee is floating silently off in the corner of the room, looking over them all with a pout. She shakes her head, choosing instead to keep an eye on the battle going down before her. 

“Huh-!? Perona- ” Hogback barely misses a clap of lightning that zips past his back, courtesy of Nami. 

“I’d keep your attention on us, if I were you.” Zoro says with a nasty grin, cracking his knuckles. Hogback swallows. 

Nami and Zoro wipe him out in a few quick turns. Sorcerer or not, his skill is clearly in fucked up experimentation and booksmarts, not combat. He throws a purplish haze at Zoro, his injured hand faltering on the delivery. Nami blows it away with a forceful gust of wind, and Zoro decks him squarely in the face. His glasses break and implode glass into his head, and down he falls to the ground, out cold.

Zoro turns his attention to where the cook is fighting off Absalom- who is clearly more suited for combat. They’re matching each other blow for blow, Absalom’s clawed hands swiping at Sanji with intent to cut and destroy. Sanji continuously blocks, occasionally lands a flaming hit- but for it, Absalom often lands back a heavy blow. Sanji’s looking scratched up and bruised, even bleeding on his left side- though Absalom has a nasty bite mark to the shoulder, and red drips down Sanji’s chin. His attacks seem physically stronger, and the ferocity he’s attacking with is admirable, but the energy just isn’t there. The cook’s still starved- how well can he truly fight?

Zoro isn’t faring much better, but he steps in anyway. He swings a strong right at Absalom’s stupid stitched-up head and his ridiculous hat. It hits, but all it does is piss Absalom off. Without his swords, Zoro is infuriatingly overpowered in a matter of seconds. The chimera-like ghoul turns and pins Zoro to the ground with a flourish. He raises a clawed hand to bring down across Zoro’s chest when Sanji roundhouse kicks him right across the room, breaking into a pile of dust and rubble.

The vampire licks his lips and grins toothily at him as he holds out a hand to help the swordsman up. “Will you forgive me for saving your ass, O Great and Mighty Swordsman?” 

Zoro takes it, but sends back a “Fuck off.”

Sanji wipes his mouth and holds on to Zoro’s arm a bit longer than necessary. Zoro does not miss the way his eyes linger on Zoro’s inner wrist.

Just as they both stand, Absalom comes back swinging with an unexpected speed and vigor. He’s milliseconds from cutting them both to ribbons when a stroke of lightning envelops him, his bones alight in bright yellow and white. He screams, twitches, and then collapses to the ground with a fizzle.

They both turn to Nami, who levels a look at them both, unimpressed. “Who’s saving who’s ass, exactly?”

A monumental sigh equivalent to a healthy dose of teenage angst loudly fills the room. They look to their final opponent, a ghostly girl who floats off from the corner she’s been tucked away in with a frown. They all return to their fighting positions, preparing themselves, though Zoro and Sanji fight to get in front of one another.

“Calm down, I’m not going to fight you.” The pink banshee informs them. They all stop. 

“Huh?”

“You’re entertaining enough to keep alive.” She says, eyeing Sanji and Zoro specifically. “Besides, Mihawk told me not to kill you.” She reveals, crossing her arms. Zoro steps forward at that, and this time Sanji lets him.

“What?”

“Here.” She says, holding up a small, folded piece of paper between her middle and index finger before flinging it down at him. He catches it with interest, unfolding it to reveal a plain white note with nothing written on it. 

“Is this some kind of joke?” He seethes. 

“It’s Mihawk’s vivre card. He told me to give it to you if you made it out of this alive. Though, I guess you still haven’t made it to Master Moria yet.” She shrugs. “I doubt you’ll beat him, but I don’t feel like sticking around much longer.”

“Vivre card?” Zoro asks. Perona sighs again.

“You don’t know what it is? Of course not.” She turns and floats so that she’s facing down at him, though she’s still keeping her distance. She points at the paper in his hand. “Look.”

Zoro does as she says, as do his companions. Slowly, little by little, the paper in his palm scoots forward. The green-haired man looks up at her, still as confused as ever.

“It’s a surefire way to find him, anytime you need to. He told me to tell you to seek him out when you’re ready. Whatever that means.”

Zoro is silent. He looks down at the card in his hand, then pockets it.

“Where’s Moria?” He asks.

Nami is on him almost immediately. “Are you kidding me? Forget about Moria! You two both almost got killed. Let’s go!”

Perona giggles, her laughter just as odd as every other resident of this castle. “ Horohorohorohoro ! Like I’d tell you anyway. I may be leaving with Mihawk, but I won’t let you kill my master! Like you even have a chance anyway.” She pulls down on her bottom eyelid and sticks her tongue out at them. Nami frowns. Zoro steps in front of her again.

“Hold on. What do you mean, leaving with Mihawk? He’s still here?”

“No, everyone left after you two ruined the party.” She wrinkles her nose. “But he gave me part of his vivre card, too. I may love Master Moria, but he’s leaving soon to take that serum of his to Joker, so he can distribute it on the black market. Sounds fun and all, but not for me. I hate that weird demonic flamingo and his equally as ugly family. So not cute.”

“Shit.” Sanji curses. “No fucking way can we let him do that.” 

“Well, we were planning on killing him anyway. Not like anything changed.” Zoro retorts. Nami is practically pulling at her hair. She’s already had to save these idiots twice, there’s no way they’re beating a warlord in this state.

Perona puffs her cheeks out, visage becoming suddenly more ghostly and pale. “You’ll do no such thing!”

“Sure they will.”

Perona shrieks, and everyone in the room turns to the sound of a new voice- cool, velvety, and even. Zoro recognizes her immediately, from the dark flowing shawl to the wide-brimmed hat and tan skin. 

“What are you still doing here!?” Perona screeches, irritated. “Crocodile and his lot left days ago!”

Two shadowy hands shrug from the woman’s shoulders. “I had unfinished business. Now, you best go after Mihawk soon. I’ll take care of them.” The woman says, gesturing to the small group with her shadowy fingers. 

Perona seems to debate doing so, but ultimately she gives in, disappearing into invisibility with an ear-piercing scream. Three pairs of eyes turn to the devilish woman who’s appeared before them. One enchanted, one hesitant, one confused. She smiles.

“You.” Zoro says, fighting to keep up with what on earth is going on in this castle. Sanji falters at his side, staring with lovestruck eyes between the woman before them and Zoro’s determined gaze. 

“Huh? You know her, mosshead?”

“Not really. She’s the one who told me about you.”

Sanji looks back at her and gulps. She chuckles.

“Yes, and it seems you followed my advice, though not without causing even more trouble of your own.”

“Who are you, and what do you want?” Nami asks. Her staff is trained on the other woman, but she feels an uneasy hesitance about using it. 

“I’m just a simple assassin.” The woman says with a bright smile. The three of them shiver at her morbid honesty.

“Oh, yeah? Here to kill us, then?” Zoro reckons. The woman shakes her head.

“Not quite. I’m here to help.” A shadowy hand appears before Zoro, holding up yet another piece of paper. This one is full-size and yellowed, wrapped in a simple red ribbon. He takes it, unfolding a strange diagram of lines and boxes. It looks useless.

“What’s this?”

Nami snatches it from him. “It’s a map , idiot!” She turns it to its correct orientation; Zoro had been holding it upside down. Not like he’d recognize it that way, either.

“How’d you get this? And why?” Nami tries again.

The woman simply shakes her head. “Now isn’t the time for that. Look here.” A dark hand sprouts from the map itself, pointing to one room, and then the other. Nami and Sanji take note as she explains. “Here are the kitchen and storage areas, where you’ll find food and sustenance, as well as the items taken from you. And not far from there is the medical ward, where you’ll be able to treat your wounds and rest before fighting Moria. He’s been in his lab preparing the last details for his trip to Dressrosa, so I doubt he knows either of you are free, nor that you plan to come kill him. Though I wouldn’t dawdle; he leaves at sundown tonight.”

The hand disappears, and the three of them watch as she takes off her hat, bowing ever so gracefully.

“It was a pleasure to meet you all. I’m afraid I have to make it back to Crocodile before he grows suspicious, but I’m sure I’ll see you all again soon.” And despite the protests that grow and die in their throats, she sinks into her shadow like it’s water, and with it is gone.

“...Well, that was odd.” Nami murmurs. 

“You’re telling me.” Zoro mutters back, eyeing the spot the devil once occupied. 

Sanji clears his throat. “Ah, no offense, but could we possibly head to that kitchen soon? I’m…quite parched.” He says, and it’s the understatement of the year. He’s even been eyeing Nami lately, and that just won’t do. A small cut has started bleeding from Zoro as well, and he can only assume it’s the adrenaline and distraction of everything going on that is keeping him from pouncing on the other man.

“Yea, yea, let’s get you fixed up.” Nami says, hopping back on her broom. “But if you guys are serious about Moria, I suggest you take her advice and rest up first. ‘Cause no way in hell am I helping with that fight.” She pulls out the map the mystery woman had given them and takes another look at it, then nods to herself, rolling it back up and placing it in Sanji’s hand. 

“You guys take this and get going. In the meantime, I’m gonna keep an eye on the rest of the castle to make sure that that banshee girl doesn’t change her mind, and Moria doesn’t find out you two are on the loose.” 

Sanji swoons. “Nami-swan, you’re an absolute saint!” He’d twirl if he had the energy, but he settles for a gracious smile.

She flips her hair over her shoulder. “Yea, I know.” Then she sticks her finger in Zoro’s face, poking him in the nose. “And be careful. I already almost lost you once, don’t make me come looking again. I’d lose a lot of money if you got killed, you hear me?”

Zoro swats her off, though he knows her words are Nami-speak for ‘I care about you, don’t die.’ 

With one more look between the two of them, she gives an encouraging, yet worried smile, before flying off down the left corridor. 

—

Sanji and Zoro head off toward the kitchen first, Sanji feebly taking the lead. It’s, luckily, not far- and Sanji quite literally sprints to the fridge once they enter. The fridge itself is gigantic, and inside sits what may as well be gold: rows and rows of blood bags and other paraphernalia, including several trays of leftover wine glasses full of blood from the party the other night. He grabs onto one of the bags and tears into it with vigor. It’s cold, and stale, and iron-y in a way that isn’t appetizing, but it’s blood all the same. He makes a few embarrassing noises as he drinks it all down, and reaches for another one with immediacy. 

Zoro watches from afar, only very uncomfortable. 

Once he’s done, he wipes his mouth and chin with his sleeve, manners be damned. The suit’s already torn in places and blood-stained in others. He feels the once unbearable bloodlust die down, and sighs a heavy sigh. He grabs a wine glass just to be sure, and turns back to Zoro. The swordsman is sitting at a nearby table, leaning against it and watching with a raised eyebrow.

“You done yet?”

Sanji reddens. “Uh, yeah. Mostly.” He takes a long sip from the wine glass before setting it aside. He looks to the kitchen behind him, and the full pantry just beside it.

“You’re starving too, right? Let me fix you something.” The vampire says with a smile.

Even the mention of Sanji’s food has Zoro’s stomach screaming, which he knows Sanji can hear, but he hesitates. “I dunno. Do we really have time for you to be making food for us?”

It’s a good point. “Well, that gorgeous woman from before told us we had ‘till sundown, right? What time is it now?”

Zoro shakes his head. “No idea. Check outside.” He orders. Then a thought crosses his head. He jumps to his feet and crosses the short distance to the cook in seconds flat as the other reaches for the curtain currently shrouding the room in darkness. 

“Hold on!” He catches the other’s hand in his own, pulling the cook back. Sanji raises an eyebrow, curious what he’s done wrong. 

“What!? What is it?”

“You’re a fullblood now, aren’t you? The sun’ll turn you to ash.”

Sanji takes the words in. He hadn’t thought of that yet. Fuck, he hadn’t thought of that yet. He lowers his hand from the window, stepping back a few steps. Zoro checks instead, careful to not let any sun in past his own frame.

He turns back to Sanji, secretly feeling a bit sympathetic. “The sun’s still pretty high in the sky. I’d say we have a few more hours.”

Sanji nods. “...Good. Sounds like there is time then, yea?”

“...Yea, sure.”

Sanji grins, though it’s not as bright as it was earlier. 

Digging around in the pantry, he finds some hearty food to hopefully make up for the other’s lack of meals. He whips up a quick tray of seared steak, roasted vegetables, mashed potatoes, hot yeast buns, and a side of onigiri- just for the hell of it, though it doesn’t go with the rest of the spread whatsoever. He refrains from tasting any of it, just in case of the (now very likely) event that it will make him sick. The slow-spreading chill as he wonders if he’ll ever be able to cook the same way again is so dreadful he refuses to think about it. A cook who can never taste their own food?

…He silently makes a resolution to find a way back to normal, whether that takes torturing it out of Moria or finding the greatest doctor in the world. 

He places the plate in front of Zoro. It makes him nervous to serve it, not having tested any of it, but it still smells heavenly. Though the scent doesn’t even pull a twinge of hunger out of himself.

Zoro’s eyes bug out when it’s set before him. Sanji thinks he spots a bit of drool hanging from the other’s lips before he digs in, absolutely obliterating everything in front of him. The swordsman had absolutely no right to judge him for how he’d reacted to his own dinner. He takes another swig of blood from the wine glass, smiling despite himself. They’d made it out. Somehow. Things might not be perfect, but they'd made it out. 

Zoro finishes and rests his hands on his stomach, throwing his head back over the back of the chair.

“That good, marimo?”

Zoro opens his good eye a sliver and sends him a grin. “Coulda been worse.”

Sanji rolls his eyes, the smallest hint of a smile on his lips. It’s good to see him looking like himself again, Zoro thinks. Smiling again.

He’s not one for planning ahead, so the fact they happened to run into blood stores has him considerably more confident for the rest of this mission. Trying to defeat Moria with Sanji on the fritz would have been hard enough, but that’s not even considering the fact that the other man had become somewhat of a ticking time bomb. Moria defeated or not, it would have been gruesome if Sanji couldn’t hold out until they got back to Thriller Bark. And what were they supposed to do then, find him a donor? He’d probably kill them. Though, Sanji was full blooded now. He’d need more blood again sooner rather than later. And who would give it to him then? Zoro lets the idea simmer briefly in his mind and then shoos it away just as quickly. No.

Well…No, no.

Sanji catches him staring and sends him an inquisitive look. Zoro blushes.

He stands shortly after, despite the sheer amount of food he’s consumed. 

“Let’s keep moving.”

Sanji nods. “Medical ward is this way.” The cook says, holding the map in one hand and pointing to the left of the door with the other. Zoro shakes his head.

“Storage first. I want my swords.”

Sanji’d like to argue, but hell, he’d kill for a cigarette. Blood’s not the only withdrawal he’s been going through. 

“Fine.” He agrees, toting them towards the nearby storage unit instead. 

The door’s locked, but Sanji kicks it open with ease- which does nothing for Zoro’s libido, nope, nothing at all. 

They step in and Zoro grins at the sight of Wado, Kitetsu, and Shusui, perched upon an old crate and otherwise untouched. The moment he takes them back they all sing, variations of relief, anger, and bloodlust alike. He puts them on his waist and feels himself relax. His den den mushi is there, too- he pockets it. Beside him, the cook practically crushes a pack of cigarettes in his hand as he grabs them from a dusty shelf. He makes yet another embarrassing noise, something close to a squeal, before lighting one up and letting out a frankly unhinged moan . 

“Can you fucking quit?” Zoro barks, trying to ignore the fact that it’s definitely doing something for him. 

“Sorry.” Sanji says through a muffled voice, still just as lovestruck. “Can’t help it.” He takes another drag, then sighs. “This is better than sex.”

“Please shut your fucking mouth.”

From there they head to the medical ward, past the kitchen again and just a few doors down. The room is dingy and clearly unused, but it’s neat and well-organized. Inside is a dusty cot, a bedside tray, a sink to the left, and several cabinets full of supplies. Sanji pulls down a first aid kid and nods for Zoro to sit on the cot, cigarette still hanging from his mouth. 

Zoro raises an eyebrow. “What are you lookin’ at me for?”

“I’m trying to patch you up, obviously.” Sanji says around the cigarette, already sensing the frustration that comes with trying to wrangle Roronoa Zoro.

The stubborn swordsman crosses his arms. “I can treat myself. Besides, you’re worse off than I am. You get fixed first.”

“Yea, but I’m not human. Sit down, mosshead.”

“I’m not even cut!”

“Yea, you are. You’re bleeding.” Sanji grimaces, gesturing towards Zoro’s side. He looks. Sure enough, there’s a shallow cut on his side. Barely bleeding, and Zoro hadn’t even felt it, but it’s still staining his shirt. 

“Oh. Guess I am.” Zoro says, uncaring. “Still, I can take care of myself. Fix yourself up, curly.”

Sanji rolls his eyes, temper flaring. “Come on, idiot, just let me do this for you!”

“Why do you want around my wounds so bad, huh? Still trying to get a taste?” Zoro jeers.

Sanji glares daggers at him. He takes the first aid kid and shoves it harshly into Zoro’s arms. “Fine. Do it yourself.” 

He grabs another set of antiseptic and bandages and gets to work on his own wounds. Zoro’s own anger barely fizzles out as he starts treating his scrapes, then he sighs and begrudgingly realizes he’s hurt the cook’s feelings again. He hates dealing with things like this.

He looks over at the other man. He’s shirtless, the bandages wrapped carefully around his upper body where Absalom had nailed him once or twice. He’s cleaned up a bit from the dungeon, too- dirt wiped from his face and arms, hair combed through again. He doesn’t look as prim as usual, but it’s a big improvement. Though it’s hard to say he looks healthy as he used to, with his more human features still overtaken. 

Handsome, though? That’s still there.

He considers saying something to apologize, but Zoro can’t remember the last time he said “I’m sorry” out loud. Well, not since he apologized for asking the cook if he was human that night on the roof. His anger briefly returns, then he quiets it. The cook had his reasons. He was still pissed.

But he was trying to work on it. For some reason.

He hesitates as he thinks of how to put any sort of sort words towards their situation. It’s been rough all the way down, and it still isn’t over yet. He isn’t good at this in the first place anyway. The words stick in his throat, and he wordlessly takes the rag that Sanji hands him.

He’s haphazardly wiping the sweat and dirt from his face and the back of his neck when Sanji speaks up again.

“I’m sorry, Zoro. For what happened in the dungeon. Almost biting you, that is.” The cook grits out, not meeting his eyes at first. When Zoro stops and takes in what he’s said, the cook finds his gaze. “It was fucked up. I wouldn’t do that to you, er, against your will…” He says, his eyes leaving Zoro’s again as he finishes the sentence. He rubs the back of his neck and stands from where he’s leaning against the counter. He’d gotten dressed again, when Zoro wasn't looking. He lights a cigarette, turning towards the door.

“You don’t gotta say anything. Just wanted to let you know. And, uh.” He blows out a plume of smoke. “Sorry for not telling you earlier, too. That I was one.”

He stalks forward to go wait out in the hall, but a firm hand grips his wrist. His gloves are still folded in his pocket, and his skin is cold. Zoro blushes in embarrassment as he says words he finds to be very out of character for himself, but nonetheless needed at the moment.

“That’s done and over with now. But props to you for saying something, at least.” His grip on Sanji’s wrist almost weakens, to let him go, but he steels himself for the last part. “I’m sorry too. For all the shit I said. I trust you.” 

Zoro isn’t meeting his eyes, either, and his cheeks are red and splotchy in unease, but god- he’ll take it. He squeezes back at Zoro’s wrist. 

“Thanks, marimo.” His smile is soft, but bright. Genuine. Like when he told Zoro about the All Blue that night that feels like forever ago now. Seemingly satisfied, he turns to leave again.

Zoro pulls him back to the cot without thinking. With one fast yank to his arm they connect, Sanji’s cigarette falling still lit to the floor, and Zoro finds kissing around the other’s fangs to quite possibly be the weirdest thing he’s ever done, considering his career path. Not slicing his lips open on them feels like mission impossible, especially considering the vigor with which the cook returns the kiss. 

They kiss long and hard before Sanji pulls his mouth away, doing so only to breathe and push Zoro further down onto the cot, till his back hits the thin mattress. He crawls over Zoro in a swift, predatory movement and has his mouth back on the swordsman’s in record time. Zoro makes a noise in the back of his throat, reveling in it. He brings both his hands to Sanji’s slender waist, something he’d be lying to say he hadn’t always wanted to get his hands on. 

Sanji lets one hand cup the side of Zoro’s face, the other smoothly combing through wild green hair. Zoro’s never cared much before when people played with his hair, but for all the nicknames the cook has come up with for it, it feels special. He makes another noise and gets a more forceful, steady pressure from the vampire’s lips as a result. He squeezes his hands on the blonde’s waist. Fuck the mission. He’ll welcome this distraction. Moria can wait.

Sanji’s tongue runs over Zoro’s lips, politely (yet voraciously) asking for entry, and Zoro hesitates for a moment now that he knows there’s goddamn blades waiting for him behind the other’s lips. Sanji tries again, desperate, and Zoro groans a little, inadvertently letting him in. The cook makes himself at home expeditiously, pulling Zoro’s head forward and letting himself into all the right places. Zoro’s not sure he’s ever kissed someone this heatedly, or this good. He briefly remembers thinking once how he’d almost fallen in love with the man, before learning what he really was. ‘Almost.’ He was a fucking fool.

Zoro kisses him back just as passionately and at some point their bodies end up pressed together, maroon dress pants intermingling with Zoro’s dusty black ones. He absentmindedly takes in the way Sanji’s hand at some point left his hair to roam over his muscles, which makes him grin into their kiss. He licks over a fang and Sanji nearly devours him over it.

Eventually the blonde pulls back, panting and flushed over top of him, a hand pushing back his bangs so as to get a good look at Zoro. He curses to himself, diving into the crook of Zoro’s neck.

Zoro jolts, actively feeling fight or flight kick in to have Sanji so near his neck again. He gasps and claps a hand to Sanji’s shoulder, heart rate rising. Sanji moans quietly, pressing a quick kiss to Zoro’s neck before he clarifies his intent.

“No biting. Just kisses. Promise.” He breathes, still head over heels in love with the idea of making love to Zoro at the moment. Zoro’s still stiff as a board, but he’d be lying if he said the idea didn’t excite him a little. Like a high-stakes trust fall and a pinch of his masochism all wrapped up into one. Sanji presses another soft kiss to his neck and he squirms, pulling a hand into Sanji’s blonde locks. The vampire might as well have purred.

He leaves a trail of kisses up Zoro’s neck, each more slow and daring than the last, and some surely leaving marks. Admittedly, Zoro is very into biting with normal partners. It’s making him itch to have that feeling now. Sanji’s done every step up to that point, and he wants the feeling of teeth on his skin, that rough display of affection that suits him so perfectly. He pulls Sanji back by his hair, meeting red eyes with grey. 

“You can bite. Just don’t break skin.” He orders. Sanji nearly wails in remorse. 

“I’d really, really love to, marimo- but with teeth like these, that’s a fine line and a big ask.”

Zoro takes a look at the porcelain-white, sharp edged canines poking at the cook’s bottom lip. He’s right, goddamnit. He just groans in frustration, pushing Sanji back where he was. The vampire licks a strip up his neck and whispers in his ear.

“Though if you do ever want to try it.” He nips the bottom of Zoro’s earlobe, causing his earrings to chime together. “I would love to taste you, should the permission be granted.”

The swordsman shuts his mouth, shivers running up his spine. Shitty cook. Shitty, annoying, perverted, explosive, dumbass, flirty cook. 

Sanji sits up where he’s straddling Zoro’s waist, looking down at him proudly (if not the slightest bit nervous that he’s gone too far). Zoro’s red face and pissed-off glare (of the affectionate kind) is probably enough of an answer. The hard spot pressing into his thigh as he sits atop the swordsman is saying plenty, too. 

He opens his mouth to say something about it and is promptly interrupted by the ringing of Zoro’s transponder snail. 

God damn it all.

Zoro makes an irritated expression, but pulls it from his pocket anyway. Sanji climbs off of him and he curses the timing and the caller, though he already knows who it is.

Zoro sits up, awkwardly avoiding Sanji’s curious gaze. They’d gotten a bit distracted. 

“Yea, what’s up, Witch?”

Her voice sounds relieved upon hearing him answer, but her follow up questions are laced with worry. “Hey, you guys alright? Did you get fixed up? And Sanji- is he…?”

Nami hears a distant “ Nami-swaaan! I’m alright, thank you for worrying about me! ” come in from the background of Zoro’s den den mushi. Zoro pushes him away, awestruck at his ability to fawn over a woman minutes after having his tongue down Zoro’s throat.

“Yea, we’re alive. We’re in the medical ward now.” Zoro replies. “Just about to head out. Is everything alright on your end?”

She relaxes. “Yea, so far. I haven’t seen that banshee girl around at all, and she was right- castle’s pretty much empty aside from Moria, though I found out there’s another set of dungeons on the other side of the castle where they keep Moria’s ghouls and the lab.”

Sanji steps forward again, speaking right into the mic. “Hold on, did you say you found where his lab is?”

“Yea. Pull out the map, I’ll try to describe it. It’s where Moria is right now, too.”

She does so, and Sanji takes note of the ominous circular room apparently spanning several floors. They’ll have to destroy it on their way out, along with the warlord himself.

Nami continues. “I know we have a while until sunset, but Moria’s looking antsy to leave and he seems to have everything in order. You two should take care of him soon.”

Zoro nods. “Heard you loud and clear. Anything else before we head out?”

“Yea, one last thing. I know I’m a little out of the loop on whatever happened to you guys, but Moria’s got plenty of drugs and vials sitting around out there. I dunno if he plans to use them on you two or himself, but keep an eye out.”

Zoro grunts an affirmative. “We’ll let you know when it’s all over.”

“I expect you to. Take care out there.” And she’s gone.

Zoro pockets the snail again, turning to Sanji. They both simultaneously remember what they’d been doing when they’d been interrupted with the call.

Sanji rubs the back of his neck, lighting up another cigarette to replace the one he’d lost. “We, uh-. We gonna talk about what just happened?”

Zoro shifts off the bed, brushing past him towards the door. “We can pick up where we left off when Moria’s head is in our hands. Sound like a deal?” 

Not what he meant, but he’ll take it.

Sanji chuckles, grinning at the other’s back with a slight redness to his cheeks. “Yea. No complaints here.”

He follows Zoro out of the room, correcting him with a stern hand on his shoulder as he immediately turns the wrong way. Once they’ve actually started heading towards the lab, he clears his throat.

“Though, just to be clear. …All’s forgiven, yea?”

Zoro eyes him, then puts his eyes back to the hallway in front of them. “All’s a generous description. But yeah. I forgive you, for the most part. Just don’t make me say it again.”

Sanji grins. “Sure, mosshead. Sounds good enough to me.”

Chapter Text

Excited as he was to get his hands on Sanji, Zoro is equally if not more excited to slice up the warlord they’re after. Bloodlust is a good word to describe a vampire’s hunger, but it’s just as fitting for the excitement the Demon of the East Blue shows in preparation for a fight.

He and Sanji are running through the twisting halls of the castle, the blonde doing his best to make sense of them along with the map and Nami’s instruction. As they turn the corner down a dark stairway leaning down, Sanji looks to Zoro, his lit cigarette one of the only things lighting the corridor. 

“Oi, Mosshead. You sure you’re ready for this?”

“I was born ready for this. Besides, I’m the one who should be asking you that question.”

“Why me!?”

“‘Cause I’m the better fighter.”

“Bullshit you are! I almost won that night we sparred behind the Baratie.”

“You’re kidding yourself. I was clearly about to kick your ass.”

Sanji scoffs. “Yea right, I was even holding back since you didn’t know what I was yet.”

“Speaking of- you gonna have a hold on yourself for this?”

Sanji nods, gravely serious all of a sudden. “Yea. I’m stable now.”

Zoro grins. “Good. Then try to keep up.”

They soon reach a set of doors tall enough to bring in an elephant- hell, probably a giraffe- and with room to spare. Sanji can hear Moria stomping around inside. He and Zoro share a single, determined look of understanding, and the swordsman nods.

Sanji kicks the doors open with enough force to make each side bang against the wall inside the lab, an awful racket startling the hulking figure inside. Moria turns to them and his ugly visage inflames.

“You two!? How the hell did you get out!?” He sets down a slick black suitcase, the sound of glass vials tinkling together inside at his roughness. “No matter. I’ll deal with you quickly enough.” He eyes Sanji, grinning. “Good to see that Hogback’s experimental serum worked, at least. Kishishishishishi! ”

Sanji pushes himself off the ground and launches a vile kick at the other’s head for the comment. And so the fight begins.

Moria blocks him with an immense forearm, though he still grits his teeth at the contact. Zoro follows immediately after him, brandishing Shusui and Kitetsu before tearing them towards the warlord’s arms. Moria swipes them both away. Zoro and Sanji take turns hitting him with strike after strike, but what he doesn’t block barely seems to affect him. He’s enormous, and years of surgery and experimentation on himself have left him a formidable target. He rakes huge black claws at them both, missing Zoro but slashing at Sanji’s side. The cook curses. 

Moria notes the quick hesitation and raises a foot, aiming to squash the other vampire like a bug. Sanji spins onto his back and meets him with his own heeled dress shoes, pushing back to save himself, but sweating with exertion as the other vamp slowly overpowers him. 

Zoro sheds the upper layer of his robe, tying the black bandana he carries on his arm over his brow. He grips Wado between his teeth, biting down hard. He darts forward like a jaguar, bringing all three swords together in a heavy swing against Moria’s leg. The warlord screeches, lifting his pressure on the other. Sanji darts out from under him and catches his breath, watching as Zoro lays another powerful strike to Moria’s side. Blood splatters from the wounds, polka-dotting Zoro’s chest. Sanji swallows.

“You annoying pest!” Moria swings his claws down on Zoro, swords clanging as they block the onslaught. 

“It seems I underestimated the two of you. Here- revel in the true power of Gecko Moria!” The vampire cries, summoning a shadowy set of claws mimicking his own. They’re not like the disembodied hands of the mystery woman- these claws are foggy hazes of vampiric magic, and they flicker, growing in corporeality as Moria sticks a stray syringe into his neck. Zoro’s eyes widen. A few feet away, Sanji growls.

The cook bursts off of his spot on the ground, lighting his foot aflame and crashing it into Moria’s neck, right where the injection was administered. The needle flies from the warlord’s hand, crashing somewhere on the stone floor. Moria chokes, sputtering as he stumbles, grasping at his scorched skin. He wheezes, looking down at the two of them. He’s irate.

He pins Sanji down with a giant, shadowy arm and attempts to do the same with Zoro. He’s met with a glare so dripping with venom that he briefly wonders if Demon of the East Blue is more than a moniker- especially with what he does next.

“Asura!” 

An eerie aura envelops the swordsman, and Moria and Sanji alike look on in a mix of astonishment and terror as the swordsman seems to mirage into a three-headed demon. With it he sprouts six more arms- each mirroring the swords held in his real ones. 

With a battle cry and a growl deep enough to shake the bones of his opponent, Zoro tears forward and cleaves into the warlord without mercy. Moria howls, blood sprays, and Zoro lands behind him in a bleary haze of pinkish light. 

Moria falls to his knees, coughing up enough blood to fill a kiddie pool. “You…” He sputters. 

Sanji stands, fixing his tie. They’ve done it, surely. There’s no way he’s getting up from that. 

A small shadowy creature resembling a bat zips by Zoro, then Sanji, and delivers another syringe straight into Moria’s neck. It moves so quickly neither of them see it coming, and then the deed is done and Moria’s rising from his knees like a colossal undead. 

“You’re going to pay for that.” He hacks, voice sounding suddenly more inhuman. Zoro’s already reverted back to normal, and the shadow hand that pins him down is then immediately replaced by Moria’s hulking claws on his body. “You’ll pay in blood!”

Moria leans down with jaws wide, looking fully ready to tear Zoro to shreds. Zoro twists and turns in his grasp, glaring and sweating under the shadow of his bandana. 

“Like hell he will!”

The flames on Sanji’s leg burn blue-hot, licking up his ankle as he climbs the air and spins, before soaring downward and kicking Moria away hard enough that his bones audibly crack with the force of the hit. He stands over Zoro, breathing heavily, before offering the swordsman a hand. Zoro takes it.

“I had it under control.”

“Sorry. I just really hate sharing.”

Sanji gives him a wry smirk, teeth glistening. Zoro shoves him aside.

Moria rises from the rubble a few yards away, thoroughly bruised and bloodied. He’s gasping, heaving in between snarls of frustration. He leans his hand against a wall for support, his claws brushing one of the black-out curtains hanging from the windows. He watches them both, standing straight ahead of them, their own eyes on his and confident in their ability to win this- he’s almost down, for real this time. Moria holds their gaze and breaks into a sick smile.

“Even if I can’t take you down with my own two hands, I’ll still be the cause of your downfall, Vinsmoke!” He cries, flattening himself to the wall and ripping the curtain down with a flourish. 

Everything seems to move in slow motion. Zoro looks to Sanji, who’s gaping dumbly at the curtain as it falls with wide, blood red eyes. The speed of light is imperceptibly fast, though in that moment Zoro would swear he saw the tendrils of late-afternoon light reaching out for the cook. When the pillar of light envelops him, Zoro feels his heart drop.

Everyone freezes in anticipation, including Sanji himself. He feels the light hit him and instinctively covers his eyes with his arms, as if it will do anything. He feels himself choke in surprise. 

Then he blinks, because…nothing happened. 

He lowers his arms, slowly, blinking at the golden light as it warms him. Is he dead? He looks to Zoro, who’s blinking at him with just as much surprise. Moria, too. He blinks again himself. No, not dead. 

He feels a wave of relief rush over him like an ocean. He’d been without the sun for days, and at this point, thought he’d never see it again- all after not even knowing that he’d need to say goodbye to it. 

Zoro’s shoulders relax, partially from the immense relief at seeing Sanji alive. But then he catches a look at the vampire’s eyes blinking back at him- and notices they’re not red anymore. Blue, like the day he’d first met him. He feels love rise in his chest, and ignores it- much as he’s trying to learn to accept such things. For now, he just calls out to the other, grin leaking into his voice.

“Oi, Sanji! Glad to have you back.”

Sanji turns his head in confusion, then lifts a hand to his cheek, somehow knowing exactly what Zoro means. He hears himself laugh. 

“What are you talking about, mosshead? I never left.” He grins.

Moria, left out and dumbfounded across the room, stands and screams at them.

“That damned Hogback- the least he could do is stick around to ensure his drug was without side effects.” He tsks. “Don’t be fooled, Vinsmoke. The effect is permanent. It’s still deep within you, somewhere, whether it has to reawaken later or not.”

Sanji cracks his knuckles, shoving his hands in his pocket. “Yea, well, don’t you worry about it too much. I got somebody to keep me in check while I figure all this out.” He turns to Zoro, who wordlessly raises his swords. They share a look of understanding. Sanji gets into position. 

Ignorant to Moria’s rambling in response, Zoro steps back, before darting forward again, straight to Sanji. The vampire pulls back a kick, sending Zoro a simpering smile with considerably less sharp canines. Just as the swordsman is about to reach him, he jumps, landing on Sanji’s leg as the other spins in a roundhouse kick that sends him hurtling through the air like a bullet. He levies his swords, approaching the warlord at breakneck speeds.

“ONI…”

Moria screams, pressed against the wall and futile to dodge.

“GIRI!”

The cut is seamless, quiet- blood and viscera silently spraying against the wall. Moria’s oversized head falls to the ground with a thump. 

Zoro lands, pulling his bandana off with a light tug. He sheathes his swords, looking down with a smirk. Disgusting- but the crook was dead. He feels Kitetsu and Shusui vibrate with glee, and Wado contently hums. 

When he turns around, Sanji is already almost to him. He reaches over Zoro’s shoulder and grasps the back of his neck, pulling him into a passionate kiss. Zoro reciprocates with glee.

“Good job, lovebirds!” Calls a voice from above them.

Sanji separates from Zoro with a jolt, borderline pushing him away. Zoro, in contrast, just grunts, displeased to be interrupted a second time, but overall uncaring of what the hell the witch sees.

“You two actually did it!” Nami sails down in front of them, eyeing Moria’s corpse with a grimace. 

“Yuck. I can’t believe that’s worth 320 million Berries.” Her eyes shine with Berry signs. “Then again, who cares about the logistics of it. Money’s money.”

Hopping off her broom, she pulls out a magic bag from nowhere, snapping her fingers and scooping Moria's decapitated head inside with physics-bending powers, refraining from touching the thing with her hands. Then she ties it off, zipping the bag into nothingness. She dusts off her hands like she'd quelled him herself.

Finally she turns to them, money signs fading. Her words are warm. “I’m glad you two are alright.”

Zoro shrugs. “He wasn't that hard to kill. All bark and no bite.”

Sanji finds that to be slightly exaggerated, but they'd beaten him all the same. He flutters over to Nami, offering to carry said disappeared bag for her. She shoos him away, looking to Zoro.

“I’m going to take Moria’s head to Sabaody to collect on the bounty. I'll be notifying the Marines of the experiments he was committing down here, as well as about the ghouls still locked away in the dungeon. They should be able to evacuate them and take care of the logistics from there.”

They nod, though Zoro seems hesitant to let her go collect the bounty on her own.

“I’ll be waiting for you on Sabaody once all your unfinished business is done here, Zoro.” She says, giving Zoro a knowing look as she glances from him to Sanji. 

Then she pulls out her staff again and extends it into her usual broomstick, hopping on and waving to the two of them. 

“Hopefully I'll see you both soon!” 

And she's off through the tall corridor of the lab and out one of the open windows, presumably back where she'd come in from. 

“Goodbye, Nami-swan!” Sanji calls, waving stupidly. Unfortunately, he found it very unlikely he'd see Nami again, lest they happened to run into each other one of the next few times Baratie moved. 

He looks to the mosshead beside him. Zoro would be leaving shortly, too. His heart aches at the thought. 

“Cook.”

“Yea?’

Zoro brings his swords out again. “We still gotta get rid of their research. You ready to crash this place with me?”

That'll be a welcome distraction. A welcome way to take out some of his frustration, too. He looks to the sleek black suitcase near his side, and lights a fire as he stomps on it. Glass vials break and chemical liquid burns with vigor.

“Born ready.”

—

After the lab is thoroughly sliced, burned, toppled, and buried, the two of them begin the walk back to Thriller bark, and then back home to Blue Town. 

The walk through the forest feels different somehow, and Sanji realizes the magic creating the maze has fallen along with Hogback. When they get to town, the people seem curious and antsy, as if they know something has happened. Zoro's not going to say anything, but Sanji…with all those worried, hopeful eyes looking at them- the same heroes who'd saved their town days earlier- how can he resist?

He raises a fist in the air and cheers.

“May he rest in Hell. Gecko Moria is dead!”

The cheers are immediate. People throw down the items they’re holding, embracing those beside them. Others fall to the ground in relief, some laugh, some cry. Several people come to thank them, and Sanji finds the way Zoro hates being showered with attention stupidly endearing. 

One older woman steps forward and tugs on Zoro's arm, frowning. 

“You know, I heard there's a small-time vampire just minutes east of us in Blue Town. Do you think you could take care of that one, too?”

He opens his mouth to speak, but only a prolonged ‘Uhhh-’ leaves his lips. He gazes at Sanji, who’s just as dumbfounded. Quickly, Zoro finds the humor in the situation. He smirks, pushing down a laugh. 

“I'll personally see to it that he's taken care of.” Zoro vows, eeking a sly eye over to the blonde, hoping the dumb grin on his face doesn't give him away. Sanji himself is giving Zoro a warning glare that barely hides his own entertainment at the irony of it all. The woman relaxes, before fixing them both with a bow, hobbling back towards a group of people gathering near a church. 

As much as the people of the town want to throw them a banquet- and Zoro is very tempted by the kegs of beer they brandish- he's tired. He hasn't slept in a real bed in days, and while not normally his most present concern he aches for a shower. 

They politely decline, insisting the people of the city celebrate with themselves. The sound of liquor and laughter and feasting trails behind them as they press on, rejoining the route to Blue Town. 

The walk home is quiet, at first. Sanji seems nervous, and Zoro knows him well enough now to tell when something is bothering him. 

“What's wrong, Cook? Don't tell me what that woman said actually got to you.”

“What? You mean the fact she asked you to kill me and you agreed?” He snickers. “You’re harmless.”

“I didn't say kill. I said take care of. She won't know the difference.” He shrugs. 

“Right.”

“Besides, I could still do either.”

“Sure, mosshead.”

Zoro kicks him, almost tripping him. 

“Oi! What was that for?”

“Answer the question.”

“I told you, I don't care-”

“Not what she said. What's actually bothering you.” 

He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a smoke. “...I guess it's just hitting me that you'll be leaving soon.” 

“You could always come with us.” Zoro grunts, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. 

Truth be told, Sanji hadn't thought about it, because he never thought Zoro would offer. But even then…

“I can't. The Baratie…It’s Zeff’s dream. He needs me here to help take care of it.” 

“And what about your dream?”

Zoro's giving him a serious look, though his expression remains unreadable. Sanji looks away. 

“It's silly. And besides, I owe Zeff too much to just up and leave him.”

“It’s not ‘silly’. Haven’t you thought about what you owe yourself ? You have a responsibility to your own goals, too.” Zoro barks.

Sanji’s a bit taken aback. His usual instinct would be to get defensive, but he doesn’t feel it right now. Zoro may be yelling at him, but it feels warranted, deep down. Or at least, he knows Zoro says so from a place of good intentions. He doesn’t answer, stubbornly staring off into the grass.

Zoro growls. 

“We travel all over the world, hell, all over the Grand Line. You’d make a helluva lot more progress with us than you do moving your dinghy of a restaurant every few months.”

“I appreciate the offer, Zoro, I really do. It’s just not in the cards for me right now.”

Zoro's quiet in response. He has his own thoughts on the matter, but Sanji needs to come to those conclusions himself. He won't beg the cook to come. Much as he wants to.

The forest starts to thin out, and the docks of Blue Town come into view as they leave the trees. Strangely, two figures seem to be waiting near the signpost signaling the entrance to town. One human-shaped and average in height, though the length of his nose is anything but. The other is strangely small, like a child, though it doesn’t look quite…human, either? Sanji squints, catching sight of the figures before Zoro can. Is that…a raccoon? With antlers?

Beside him, Zoro lets out a scoff in disbelief, then a genuine laugh. He runs ahead, Sanji following with an inquisitive gaze.

“Usopp! Chopper!” Zoro waves his arm. The two forms relaxed at the sign turn to them, their faces brightening when the recognition hits them.

“Zoro!” The long-nosed one calls. The little creature beside him gasps. The two of them start jogging too, and soon the four of them have met, the small animal-like creature jumping into Zoro’s arms. Sanji’s genuinely surprised by the fondness Zoro shows for the little one, ruffling his head under his hat and giving him a grin.

“I’m so glad you’re alright!” Oh. The little creature could talk. 

“Nami sent for us to meet you here so we could check you out for any injuries!”

“And I came for protection!” The long-nosed one proclaims, jutting a thumb at himself and standing proudly. 

“Right.” Zoro says, skepticism clear in his tone. He sets the little creature down, who then looks to Sanji with a cheerful smile.

“Who’s your friend, Zoro?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s the cook.”

Sanji frowns. “That doesn’t explain anything, you big oaf!” He turns to the two newcomers with a much more cordial countenance. “The name’s Sanji. Nice to meet you both.”

“Nice to meet you too!” They both chirp. 

“My name’s Usopp! I’m kind of the leader of this whole organization. I also humbly offer my sharpshooting services, as well as strategy, intel, botany, engineering-”

Zoro flicks his nose. 

“Ouch!”

The little raccoon- maybe he’s a deer, actually?- pipes up. “And I’m Chopper! I’m the medic.”

Usopp bitterly rubs his nose. “So, you’re a friend of Zoro’s, huh? That’s rare.” He chuckles.

Chopper is undoing his small medical pack on the ground, pulling out supplies to treat their wounds and change their bandages, speaking as he does so. “Yea, I was surprised when Nami said he let someone tag along with him! He’s usually so focused on his mission that he barely even talks to us!”

Sanji smirks. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” He gives the moss a playful glance.

“Not my fault he got himself all wrapped up in it. Almost killed me, too.”

Sanji kicks him, biting down on his cigarette.

“Ouch! Watch it, leech.”

“Leech? Since when am I leech?” The blonde roars.

“Since you about damn tried to drain me in the dungeon!”

“I apologized for that! And you accepted it!”

“Mostly. I mostly accepted it.” Zoro clarifies.

The two of them continue their bickering. Meanwhile, Usopp and Chopper have both gone as white as a sheet.

“H-Hold on a minute…” Usopp interrupts. They both turn to him.

“You’re a…”

Chopper joins in, the two of them shouting in unison as they jump into each other’s arms. “You’re a vampire!?”

Sanji lets go of Zoro, feeling awkward. He didn’t usually have to deal with this. His blending-in thing was quite useful. 

“Uh, yeah, I am. I kinda figured Nami would have told you.” He says, fidgeting with his hair.

“W-Well she didn’t! ” Usopp cries. He and Chopper are shivering in cowardly apprehension. 

Zoro rolls his eyes, picking them up by their scruffs. “It’s fine, he’s with me.” He separates them, placing them back down again where they can’t influence each other. 

“But…But how?” Usopp gulps. Chopper has tip-toed to the vampire’s side, silently poking at Sanji every once in a while, ensuring he is indeed friendly. Sanji should be offended, but the action is so cute he just giggles to himself, allowing the little reindeer to continue. 

Zoro sits on a nearby rock. “Long story. Didn’t know he was one. Now I do. Tried to bite me, then he didn’t. That’s about it.”

Sanji whirls around, making the reindeer at his feet puff up. “Don’t tell it like that! You left out way too many details! Besides, you make me sound like shit!”

He turns to Chopper, who’s become a small ball of fur. He collects himself before addressing the poor doctor. “Don’t listen to him. I’m nice- promise.” He kneels down and holds out his pinky finger. Chopper deflates slowly. He eyes Sanji’s hand for a moment, looking from him to Zoro. He’s only just met Sanji, and he does seem nice…Besides, Zoro’s terrible storytelling skills aside, he knows the swordsman would never let a bad guy hang around. He holds out his little hoof, hooking it into Sanji’s the best he can. 

“Alright. If Zoro trusts you, then so do I.” He says, giving Sanji a small smile. Usopp seems to groan at being outnumbered here, but nevertheless heaves a heavy sigh and crosses his arms. 

“Fine, fine, I guess you can be friends with the Almighty Usopp as well. Just know, if you try anything, foul beast- I shall shoot you down in a ball of flames.” He puffs up his chest, holding out his slingshot. His voice goes through various different registers, from bravado to poorly-performed intimidation. Sanji thinks it’s kind of funny, mostly, but he holds his hands up, accepting Usopp’s words with good humor. 

“Alright, no more talk! Let’s get these wounds looked at!” The reindeer calls.

Chopper undoes Zoro’s bandages first, commenting on the poor craftsmanship. Nonetheless, he fixes up Zoro’s old wounds and any new ones, before doing the same for Sanji. Usopp spends the first few minutes nervously standing guard, mostly eyeing Sanji, before gradually calming down as he realizes the other means no harm. At one point, desperate for the other to stop finding him so alien, Sanji starts up a small conversation about plants, remembering Usopp’s mention of botany. Usopp lights up, explaining all the different plants he tends to and the uses they hold- including some of the more spicy ones he uses for his flame and pepper stars. Sanji notes how he uses the exact same peppers for spice in his dishes. Chopper joins in, too, and he and Sanji delight in chatting about herbs used both medicinally and for cooking. Zoro just listens in silently, resting his eyes with his arms folded behind his head.

After all is tended to and the three of them have finished geeking out about the local flora, Chopper and Usopp pack up, looking almost sad to go.

“Well, that’s everything for now. Are you coming with us to Sabaody, Zoro?”

Sanji feels dread pop up in his stomach, but Zoro quickly dispels it, shaking his head. “Nah. I got some business to attend to here. I’ll catch up with you guys tomorrow.”

Usopp shrugs. “Suit yourself. It was nice to meet you, Sanji!”

Chopper nods, hopping onto Usopp’s shoulder. “Yea, I enjoyed talking to you! I hope we get to see you again sometime!”

Usopp chuckles at that as he starts walking the two of them away, calling over his shoulder. “Yea, not as one of our bounties though!”

He chuckles; Zoro rolls his eyes with a grin. The two of them head off past town, and soon disappear into the sunset. It’s getting late. 

By the time Zoro and Sanji make it to the docks where the restaurant sits, it’s almost completely dark out- but the Baratie should still be open. Strangely, though, Sanji can tell as they approach that the lights are off- even those to Zeff’s loft. Odd.

They head over and Sanji unlocks the door, pushing it open slowly. The restaurant is dark, and where he expects to see Zeff prepping in the kitchen in back there are only empty countertops and soaking dishes. It looks like the restaurant was in use today, just closed early. That’s reassuring; Zeff was here recently; he’s just not here now. Though he wonders why. To be fair, he hadn’t told Zeff where he was going that night- just made some vague comment about helping Zoro out, to which Zeff had snickered, especially considering his formal outfit. Poor old man had probably been worried sick.

Zoro asks if he’s alright; he waves him off. They head upstairs and Sanji pushes open the door to his loft, feeling all the fatigue hit him at once as he takes in the sight of his bedroom. 

Sanji heads straight for the bathroom, proclaiming his need for the shower. Zoro yells back a genuine order not to use up all the hot water- which makes Sanji frown, because he was definitely intending to.

Once he’s out, clothed in a plain white dress shirt and some simpler slacks, Zoro pushes past him and heads in himself. Despite his exhaustion crying at him to just lay down on the couch and sleep, Sanji drags himself back downstairs to the kitchen. They should eat. Zoro should, at least. 

He makes a small meal of soup and bread, nothing too fancy. By the time he makes it back upstairs with the food in his hands, Zoro is waiting on the couch with dripping wet hair. 

Sanji frowns, setting the plate down in front of him. “I own towels, you know.” 

Zoro ignores him in favor of the food. Then he looks to Sanji, noting the lack of a second plate. 

“Aren't you hungry?” 

Sanji shakes his head, somewhat sheepishly averting his eyes as he explains. “I had plenty earlier. Besides, I don't keep a lot of food around, and Zeff'll get on my ass if I take too much from the restaurant's sto…”

He trails off, taking in the sight in front of him. Zoro has pulled aside the collar of his white t-shirt, exposing his neck and shoulder in a clear invitation. He's looking at Sanji expectantly when the other finally notices.

Sanji sputters. “W-What!? No! No, I'm fine!” 

Zoro lets go of his shirt, allowing it to spring back into place. “Suit yourself. I just figured you'd be hungry- it's been a few hours, and we didn't eat for days. Plus, we don't know how that serum affected you yet.” 

Sanji just can't believe he offered that. He might have mentioned it in the heat of the moment in the medward, but- But Zoro, offering?

He rubs the back of his neck, still thoroughly agitated. “Isn't this kinda stuff- doesn't it kinda go against your job description?”

Zoro shrugs again. “‘s not like I work for anyone in particular. I'm my own boss; I don't have rules to follow.”

“Yea, but surely you don't want to let- let a vampire feed on you?”

“Didn't you just ask to do this a few hours ago?” Zoro asks, pointing to his neck. He's growing frustrated with Sanji’s wishy-washy requests. 

“I said that ‘cause it was hot! I didn't think you’d-!”

Zoro sticks a spoonful of soup into his mouth. “Give it a rest, cook. If you don't wanna, that's plenty fine with me. Saves me the trouble. I knew you were gonna need it eventually, figured I'd rather offer while you were still sane.” He chews through his monologue, ripping into the bread. It's good. Soft.

Sanji stews, frowning. Once the conversation fades to the quiet sound of Zoro munching away, a little nagging voice pops into Sanji’s head screaming at him for denying Zoro’s offer. 

Why did he do that? Hell yes he was hungry- and for all the reasons Zoro mentioned. Even if he wasn't- if he ate only moments before- he'd be drooling at the chance to taste Zoro. He had, briefly, at the party- when the other had bit his lip. Barely any at all- but enough to know that his initial endeavor to seduce Zoro and take his blood that first night they met was unforeseen genius. 

It probably wouldn't have been as satisfying then, though. Getting to know Zoro, falling in love with him- it had made his blood sound all the more appetizing, all while putting it on a pedestal as forbidden fruit, never to come to fruition. 

And here he was saying no to it at the perfect opportunity. For morals, or something. Morals, or perhaps shame. His stomach growls. Luckily Zoro doesn't hear it. 

He winds up plopping down next to Zoro on the couch for lack of options elsewhere. After Zoro finishes, he pushes the tray of food aside, leaning back to mirror Sanji.

“Your friends were nice.” Sanji muses.

“They’re alright.” Zoro says, affection clear in his voice.

“I’m surprised you didn’t go with them yet. What ‘unfinished business’ do you have left in town?”

Zoro raises an eyebrow. “Is that not obvious?”

Sanji returns his question with a confused look, and Zoro sighs. “I have unfinished business with you , cook.” Zoro clarifies, and Sanji’s shoulders fall. 

‘Oh, great.’ He thinks. ‘He’s finally decided he does wanna kill me after all.’

Zoro stands up and cracks a few stiff bones, stretching his muscles. Warming up, surely, Sanji assumes.

Once he’s satisfied with his stretching, he plops himself down on Sanji’s lap.

“The medward. We had a deal, didn’t we?”

The wheel turning in Sanji’s brain finally catches. He looks up at the other and flushes, feeling a warm drop of blood dribble down from his nose. He licks over his lip, catching most of it and hoping he doesn’t look a fool. The small taste of blood invigorates him, his own or not, and he nods, leaning up to meet Zoro with immediacy.

“Yea. Yea, we did.” He nods, mouth moving simple syllables almost entirely on instinct. He hesitates right before reaching Zoro’s mouth, unsure- this feels so sudden. He certainly hadn’t forgotten about earlier, but so much has happened since then that it’d slipped his mind-

Zoro rolls his eyes and takes Sanji’s lips while the other clearly begins to overthink. The cook makes a pleasant noise in response, relaxing immediately. ‘There you go.’ Zoro thinks.

The swordsman wraps his arms around Sanji’s shoulders, one hand slipping into the blonde’s hair. Zoro’s embrace is strong and warm, especially compared to his cooler-than-it-once-was skin, but most surprisingly is how gentle it is. Loving, actually. It makes Sanji’s romantic heart swoon.

He switches gears quite quickly, leaving any hesitation or fear behind to return the swordsman’s kiss. He rests his hands on Zoro’s hips, pulling him closer.

Zoro grins into it. After a few more perfect moments of moving against the other’s lips, he pulls back.

“You know, this is a lot easier without your fangs getting in the way.” He smirks.

“Don’t jinx it. It’s taking everything in me to keep ‘em down.” Sanji replies, rather seriously.

Zoro seems to take that as a challenge. He meets Sanji’s lips again, this time with more force than before. His pressure on the other’s lips is less loving, more hungry. And just as Sanji tries to keep up with it, a greedy tongue licks at his lips, too. He mumbles something in the back of his throat- Zoro chuckles, does it again. Sanji lets him deepen the kiss with both hesitation and desperation and the taste of Zoro nearly makes him lose control immediately. He mentally curses. Zoro was doing this on purpose.

Zoro’s hands move to his shoulders and push him down onto the couch. Sanji whines. It only furthers Zoro’s aggressiveness.

They kiss much longer this time- perhaps to make up for the time in the medward, perhaps just because this might be the only time they’ll ever get to do this again. Zoro has the vampire pinned down to the couch, one hand on his right arm, the other cupping Sanji’s head in an effort to bring their faces even tighter together, somehow. Zoro does love in much the same way he does everything else in his life: with full force in its entirety.

Sanji could have sworn he was on top when they left off, but he’s not complaining at the switch of positions. In fact, he’s enjoying it a bit too much, even as Zoro practically devours his mouth, barely giving either of them time to breathe. Zoro seems to be after something, and he still doesn’t have it. He tightens his grip on Sanji’s cheek and angles his head, licking over one of Sanji’s canines again. Sanji feels them lengthen against his will. He groans- Zoro gives a guttural growl of delight.

He pushes the swordsman away and takes in a deep, panting breath. Zoro does the same, though with a much more self-satisfied grin. 

“You bastard.” Sanji pants.

“You’re the one who let ‘em out.” Zoro says with a smirk.

“Are you trying to drive me crazy on purpose?”

“Is that not obvious yet, either?”

“You piece of shit.” There’s bite to his words, but it’s not the vile kind. Zoro dives back in to claim his prize and Sanji stops him, his hand pinching Zoro’s cheeks.

“Hold on. Don’t get careless. I, uh…I might have exaggerated a bit earlier when I said I wasn’t hungry at all …” He admits, sheepishly blushing with a look off to the side. 

“ I shouldn’t be careless? Sounds more like you’re the one who needs to keep himself in check, cook. I gave you my offer and you denied it. So no biting, alright, curly?”

Zoro’s no longer smiling as he says it, but Sanji swears he sees something twinkling in that deceptively cold grey eye of his. He lets go of Zoro and finds the other smashing his lips against his own in the instant he’s let go, kissing into Sanji with fervor from being off of him for the whole of thirty seconds.

Sanji, of course, is no better- but then Zoro drags his tongue under one of his unchecked fangs and quite obviously lets blood run from it purposely. Sanji tenses.

Zoro soon finds himself jettisoned backwards, flipped onto his back on the couch more quickly than he’s able to process what’s happening. He mimics the position he just had the cook in, though now the blonde is diving at him and taking his mouth with verocity. Zoro grins. Sanji licks all over, kissing and sucking and tasting all at the same time as he tries to get every last ounce of blood that the measly little cut spilled into their kiss. He’s getting flashbacks to the party, and yea - he remembered the taste of Zoro’s blood correctly, but not well enough - it’s like the finest spice he’s ever had the pleasure of sampling. Once he’s exhausted the last of it, he pulls away, realizing what’s happened. He narrows his eyes at Zoro’s shit-eating grin. 

“You masochistic bounty hunter bastard.” 

“Careful, curly. I may be a master of blades, but you’re pretty damn sharp.”

Ignoring Zoro’s stupid quips, he dives forward to kiss the man again, this time only doing so for a few heat-filled moments before he moves away to kiss at Zoro’s neck, desperate for another taste. He delights in the way Zoro shivers in anticipation the moment he nears his throat. He kisses once, then twice, then opens his mouth and is yanked back by calloused fingers wrenched into his hair.

“Oi. I said no biting, cook.”

Sanji wilts. He groans, and returns to Zoro’s neck with only slightly less fervor, kissing up it with hungry lips- quite literally. He pulls back for a moment and then licks his tongue up Zoro’s neck, hesitating on the other’s pulse and the way it quickens beneath his tongue. He pulls back and looks at Zoro searchingly.

“Okay, but you are gonna let me do it eventually, right?” He asks, looking at the other with desperation. Zoro just growls at him, irritation clearly flaring.

He takes another moment to briefly curse himself for denying Zoro’s offer. Knowing the other’s pride, he’ll likely never change his mind and offer again- his chance has gone out the window. He takes a moment to mourn it, too, but if the exchange is getting to fuck the guy, well.

He’ll make that trade.

He remembers what Zoro had said last time, about biting but not breaking skin. With himself a bit more under control this time, he thinks he can now manage this request. He leans back in and nips Zoro’s skin, secretly delighting in the fearful gasp the other gives before Sanji gives another, barely leaving marks, let alone drawing blood. Zoro makes a sound somewhere between an irritated grunt and a chuckle.

“Is this still allowed?” He asks, sing-song.

Zoro grunts. “Yea. Just warn me next time, idiot.”

“Sorry.” He manages. Then he smirks, moving up to nip at Zoro’s ear again. The response is delightfully similar to last time- Zoro gasps; his earrings tinkle pleasantly. The sound sets something alight within him. Sanji wants to move this forward. 

Zoro is apparently just as impatient. He yanks Sanji up again and growls. 

“Are we gonna do this or not?”

Sanji grins, choosing to ignore how genuinely frustrated Zoro looks- partially because it’s very attractive. His short hair is always a bit messy but now it’s clearly mussed from all Sanji’s done to him, and as odd as it is to see the swordsman red and blushing, it gets Sanji going like no other. He hops up and crosses the room to his door with lightning speed, locking it on the off chance that Zeff returns home this evening. 

“You move to the bed. I’ll be right back.” Sanji says stuntedly, long legs already tripping over themselves as he heads to the bathroom where he keeps some lube for the very rare occasions that he brings someone home with him. He’s about to leave when he decides he should bring condoms, too, in case Zoro wants to use them. He kind of doubts it, but he doesn’t want to not offer.

He exits back into the small living space to find Zoro in the middle of pulling off his shirt. He’s seen the other shirtless a million times now, but physically watching him take it off is a whole different beast. As he stands there he’s quite sure he can feel his heartbeat thumping in his lower abdomen. That can’t be right.

Zoro meets his eye as he shrugs it off, throwing it down next to where his swords rest. They’re where he put them last time, leaning between the bedframe and the wall. Sanji eyes them, frowning. He puts down their supplies on the bedside table, then points to the offending objects.

“Permission to move these?”

Zoro eyes them for a second, squinting. Then he nods.

Sanji places them carefully on the couch, taking the time to turn them away from the bed, which makes him feel quite silly in the moment - but he feels the need to do so. Then he turns back to Zoro, beginning to loosen the buttons of his dress shirt.

“So, uh. How are we gonna do this?”

This is always the most awkward part, isn’t it. He has his own wish for how this will go in his head, especially considering this is probably the only chance he will get at fucking the most ruggedly handsome man he has ever seen in his life. That being said, he’s also not willing to lose said chance over who sticks what in who, so he’s quietly resigning himself to hoping they pick up exactly where the medward left off again.

For Zoro’s part, that goddamn dream is currently playing scene by scene in his head. He needs to make it real. Badly. 

Zoro takes his pants off with no further niceties. Sanji gapes openly, flushing.

“Do me a favor. Let me fuck you, and I might- and that’s a big might - just let you have something you want.” As Zoro says this, he taps two fingers against his neck, where a hickey is blossoming from Sanji’s earlier efforts. 

Sanji swallows. He makes a face of indecision and strife- before weighing the options over once again in his head. That sounds good enough to him, actually. He hurriedly shoves off his own pants and tries not to trip.

Zoro’s eyes aren’t shy, either, and Sanji’s whole face warms up when Zoro stares at him without shame. 

Zoro sits down on the bed and nods his head up, gesturing for Sanji to come over too. Sanji does so, feeling a bit awkward now that they’re here. For the better part of more than a week Zoro had been strictly his weird, intimidating rival/tentative friend, and even though he’d fallen in love with the guy, standing before him now like this feels so far from what he thought their dynamic was that he’s feeling strange. The long-set want coiled deep in his gut and his dick are certainly arguing otherwise, though. He steps forward and pulls Zoro into another kiss out of habit, and the other yanks him onto the bed and presses him down onto it as he returns the favor. 

Okay. Not his usual preference be damned. It’s very hot having Zoro manhandle him this way. 

He lets Zoro’s fingernails press craters into his arms from how hard they grip him, losing himself in their strength. Then Zoro’s hands are moving downwards, his mouth moving to Sanji’s neck in mimicry of Sanji’s earlier bid for blood. Sanji is easily distracted by a tough hand groping at his pec, and then his nipple- which sends a jolt of pleasure down his spine- before he’s interrupted by Zoro absolutely gnawing at his neck. 

Sanji gasps loudly, breathily, and Zoro bites him again. He strains his neck away, gritting his teeth.

“Son of a bitch , what are you trying to do, turn me again?” Sanji asks, light irritation in his voice.

Zoro chuckles. “Just thought I’d give you a taste of your own medicine. How’s it feel?” He leans down and bites on Sanji’s collarbone, the pain melding into some sick delight he didn’t know he was into. 

Sanji moans, then covers his mouth with his hand. Shit. 

Zoro gives him a look and bites down a second time, littering his clavicle with bite marks. They aren’t breaking skin either, but it still hurts- and it’s leaving mark after mark all over him in what he can only assume is Zoro’s stupid idea of vampiric retribution. Possibly for not telling him the truth earlier. In fact, that was definitely it. And here he thought maybe Zoro was over it.

Then again, the other man seemed weirdly fascinated with Sanji’s inhuman disposition. When Zoro pulls his hand off his mouth he grunts, trying to distract himself as Zoro scoots further down his chest.

“You know, for a bounty hunter, you’re pretty damn enthusiastic about my…quirks.” He finishes, for lack of a better word.

Zoro glances up at him from where his face is ghosting over Sanji’s lower abdomen, looking completely the opposite of innocent. “Huh. …Nah, I don’t see it.” 

Then he promptly drags his hands down Sanji’s sides, resting them on his hips. A shiver runs down Sanji’s spine and he makes a strangled noise when Zoro then wraps a hand firmly around the base of his dick.

“There’s no way the guy that fights with a sword in his mouth has any kind of oral fixation at all.” Zoro says sarcastically, before taking Sanji almost fully in his mouth. 

“ SHIT -” Sanji curses, one hand clamping right back down over his mouth again while the other wrenches nails into the bedsheet. He can’t believe Zoro has the gall to make one-liners during all of this. He also can’t believe that it’s working , or that he’s absolutely right, or that fuck Zoro feels so good . 

Zoro’s mouth is hot and wet and also very impressively skilled at taking him in. Zoro’s free hand pulls Sanji’s own away from his mouth to hear all the embarrassing noises freely leaving it as he begins to move. With said keening and barely held together moans now audible in full, Zoro hollows his cheeks and sucks, hard. 

Sanji cries out, seizing Zoro’s hair in his hand and pulling. For fuck’s sake, the jaw strength on this motherfucker was going to send him to an early grave. He stifles a loud moan as Zoro does so again, then again, wet heat enveloping his dick the whole time. With each pull he’s nearly ready to lose his mind, let alone cum. As Zoro goes to do so a third time he pulls him back, panting, blood dribbling down his lip.

“Zoro.” He pants. “If you do that again.” Another. “I am not going to be able to stop myself from finishing.”

Zoro licks his lips with a pleasant grin, the taste of Sanji’s pre-cum still on his lips. “Guess we’ll move on then.”

He grabs the bottle of lube from the bedside table and drizzles a sizable amount over his fingers, not bothering to warm it up before sliding a wet finger up Sanji’s thigh and down between his legs, the other subconsciously widening his legs at the touch. 

Zoro begins slowly massaging around his entrance, and Sanji is grateful for the slowness despite the fact that he’s quite literally never been so horny in his life. He doesn’t do it often but he’s done it before - and the impatient part of him wants Zoro to hurry it up already and put in a finger or two, to at least give him something to ground himself. 

After a desperate look from the blonde Zoro gets the idea, ensuring his fingers are still slick enough before he slowly works one in. Sanji makes a small noise and his nosebleed worsens as he imagines the finger to be something else, steam practically pouring out of his ears. Zoro isn’t patient, either, but he’s not an asshole- meanwhile Sanji is egging him on to do exactly that. 

“C-C’mon, mosshead, you’re killing me over here.” Sanji grits out, squirming. Zoro grunts and works until he pushes another finger in, which causes the other’s face to scrunch up in a mixture of slight pain and heavy anticipation. 

Zoro moves so he’s hanging over top the other now, his arm reaching down as he continues prepping the blonde. “Earlier I got the impression you didn’t like being on the receiving end very much.” He says, breath warm above Sanji’s face.

The other is still clearly lost in reverie. “Well I changed my mind.” He slurs, pushing the hair out of his face until his whole visage is clearly visible. The entirety of the cook’s face, handsome and panting and a bit red and flushed, makes something in Zoro burn.

He leans in, whispering in Sanji’s ear just as he starts slipping the last finger in. “Jeez, Cook, I didn’t know you wanted to fuck me that bad.”

Sanji groans, loudly, and whether it’s from his words or his actions Zoro can’t tell, but he nonetheless continues. “How long?”

Sanji curses, twisting under his grasp as Zoro’s fingers narrowly miss a certain spot.

“What?” Sanji manages. He can barely think.

“How long have you wanted to fuck me?”

Sanji curses again, distracted by the almost-fullness of Zoro’s fingers inside of him, so close to doing it for him. He remembers the question asked and groans, embarrassed and slightly frustrated. 

“First night. Okay? Now please hurry the fuck up.”

That does something for Zoro, most definitely. His dick twitches and he scissors his fingers a few times to ensure Sanji’s ready, before grabbing the lube once more and then beginning to fiddle with a condom.

“No need.” Sanji growls, pulling Zoro back towards the bed. 

“You. In me. Right now. Please.”

Zoro does not need to be told twice.

He lines himself up with Sanji’s hole and presses in, only a bit at first as the cook sucks in a breath and bites his lip. His fangs are still out and they catch on his lip, making a small line of blood run down his chin. When Zoro hesitates Sanji licks it away, before ordering Zoro to continue. 

Zoro pushes forward and lets out a drawn out, guttural sigh at the warmth of the cook around his cock. Shit, he’d been craving this. Sanji’d wanted this since the night they met and Zoro wasn’t much better- not to mention the damn dream he had that’s now coming to life before his very eyes. It’s not quite the same but he wouldn’t trade his position at the moment for the world. 

He draws back out and then fucks back into the cook with vigor, feeling the coil of pleasure already begin winding low in his gut. He’s 90% sure that most of his excitement at the moment is from the mental gymnastics of fucking the shitty vampire cook he hadn’t even realized wasn’t human until a few days ago when they made out at a party. And said events following. He swallows. 

He draws back again and repeats, then again, and a fourth time, searching for the spot he’s after as Sanji mutters expletives and loud, nasty moans that rival the ones he’d imagined in his dream. After a few more strokes he finds it. Sanji rakes his nails into Zoro’s back, drawing blood. He cries out Zoro’s name with a stupid airy tone he’s thus far only heard the cook speak towards women and the sound drives him fucking mad. He begins pounding into the other man, his own strangled sounds not much better- and the coil in his gut winding tighter and tighter.

Sanji is in fucking heaven. He never thought he’d make it there, being what he is, but god, this must be the next best thing. He feels so full with Zoro inside of him and every time Zoro thrusts into him he feels his prostate get rammed and he nearly finishes on the spot. He’s holding back just to continue feeling this good, even though he’s clearly near his limit. 

Then he remembers their earlier bargain, and the smell of Zoro’s blood fills his nostrils from where he’d clawed his back open. It’s not bleeding heavily at all- but it’s certainly enough to remind Sanji of exactly what he wants. Needs. The logistics are fuzzy at the moment. 

“Zoro- Please- Let me- Hnng -”

Zoro continues, assuming that must be what Sanji’s begging for. Then the vampire pulls him down, ghosting his fangs against Zoro’s neck.

“Let me bite you- fuck- I need to so bad. C’mon, marimo- let me taste you-”

Sanji’s begging is about to make Zoro finish prematurely. Aside from the fact that it goes against every human instinct inside of him, he really wants Sanji to do that, too. 

He grits his teeth. Would now be a good time? Would Sanji be able to control himself at the moment? The other looks fucked-out and way past rational reasoning. 

“ Please , Zoro. You smell so good- fuck.” He curses again. A halfhearted bite digs into his lower neck, catching on his collarbone as Sanji drags his teeth down. The feeling of fangs pricking at his skin sets him on edge. 

He’s still going at Sanji, though his rhythm has fumbled at the other’s new intrusion. A hot, wet tongue drags over Zoro’s pulse and he gives in.

“ Fine- ” He grits out. “Just-”

Sanji bites into his neck with immediacy. Zoro moans loudly, from the pain and the feeling alike. It’s not like anything he’s felt in his life. It hurts like a motherfucker but he’s also intoxicated by it, and by the thought of Sanji drinking him down. 

Sanji makes a dark, pleasant noise and sucks at Zoro’s neck voraciously, taking at least three heavy swallows of the other’s blood before he lets go, licking his lips. Fuck, that was good. Fuck, Zoro tasted amazing. 

Zoro takes advantage of the pause to push Sanji down again, effectively cutting the other off from his blood supply. It’s still dripping heavily, fat droplets of maroon falling onto Sanji’s chest, his face, and the bedsheets. He’s about to protest when Zoro finds the rhythm again, and with just a few more thrusts Sanji screams with pleasure, finishing across his own chest as the cum mixes with Zoro’s blood. 

Zoro doesn’t think he’ll be far behind. Sanji lurches forward and licks up his neck again and he’s vainly attempts to warn the other.

“Fuck- Sanji, I’m gonna-”

Sanji pays him no mind, reattaching himself to the open wound on Zoro’s neck. Zoro finishes with a heavy, panting moan and Sanji delights in the warmth that fills him up alongside the taste of Zoro’s blood. He’s so full of the other man at the moment that he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to top it.

Zoro falls on top of him, panting and exhausted. He’s lightheaded- for multiple reasons, but number one being the vampire currently draining him from below. He grunts, attempting to push the other away. Sanji makes a noise of disappointment, but pulls away soon after, licking up the blood spilled over Zoro’s neck and collarbones. Zoro’s wound miraculously stops bleeding soon after.

He stays where he is, cock still resting in the other and their sweaty bodies tiredly laid on top of one another. 

“...Fuck, marimo,” is all the cook has to say. 

Zoro grunts, barely awake enough to understand his words. Forget lightheaded, he was tired . He thinks he might faint. 

“Nope. Hold up, mosshead, don’t fall asleep yet.” Sanji knocks a gentle knuckle against the other’s head, attempting to lift the other off of him. Zoro begrudgingly assists, sliding out of the other with a hiss and sitting up despite his spinning head. 

Sanji stands, looking at the crime scene that was once his bedroom. He curses lightly, balling up his sheets and tossing them aside before pulling Zoro along to the bathroom- who protests, eager for sleep and adamant that they’d both showered less than an hour ago. Nonetheless the swordsman is tugged into the hot spray of water in the small bathroom shortly after, and vaguely remembers being forced to drink a bit of juice before Sanji would even allow his ass to consider sleeping. Sanji wraps his wounds as he complains about the other biting him, taking too much- and Sanji just nods and replies a few unenthusiastic ‘ uh huh ’s- though the fond look he gives the other as he ensures he’s taken care of is anything but inconsiderate.

Eventually, they do end up back in the bed, Zoro pulled close to Sanji’s chest under the spare blanket. He smiles, briefly, a genuine smile that he quickly tries to wipe off his face even in his sleep-drunk state. Sanji doesn’t see it, but the peaceful look on the swordsman’s face when he does look down warms his slow-beating heart. He presses his chin to the top of Zoro’s head and closes his own eyes, eager to soak up the intimacy of the moment while he still has the chance.

Chapter Text

When Zoro wakes up the next morning, he does so to the smell of scrambled eggs and bacon wafting from the little kitchen within the loft. He sniffs a couple times, shifts in the blankets, and debates whether or not the food is worth getting out of bed for. 

He turns in the blankets again, relishing the comfort. He hears Sanji chuckle lightly from across the room. The bastard is definitely laughing at him. He sits up immediately, frowning towards the kitchen. Sanji’s already looking his way, snickering.

“Morning, mosshead.”

“Fuck you.” Zoro grumbles, pushing the blankets aside to stand up. When he does so he realizes just how groggy he feels. He remembers last night’s activities and draws a hand up to his neck, where a fading bite mark is covered by carefully wrapped bandages. 

“Goddamn, did you leave any in there?” He asks, rubbing the sore spot just above his shoulder. Sanji sheepishly grins, dishing up breakfast and bringing Zoro over a plate. 

“Eat up. It’ll make you feel a lot better.”

The swordsman takes a seat on the couch, moving his swords aside for now. “I’d feel fine if an overgrown leech hadn’t sucked me dry.” Zoro mutters under his breath, taking a bite of his eggs. (They’re good.)

“Oh shut up, you seemed to be plenty okay with it last night.” Sanji retorts, sitting down with his own plate. Zoro’s glad to see him eating human food again. Proof that Hogback’s serum hadn’t changed him irreversibly- and that he could still cook freely as he liked. 

They eat quietly enough, both likely silently aware of Zoro’s impending departure. Sanji keeps telling himself it’s necessary. He also can’t stop thinking about how much he wants to go with them all, but some hung up, stunted, self-ashamed part of himself is too scared to do so. 

For Zoro’s part, he still, somehow, feels sure that this will change. 

It’s a short meal, and afterwards Sanji takes both their plates to the sink, beginning on dishes while Zoro packs up the last few things he has strewn about. He takes stock of his bag, his clothes, his transponder snail- and the number Sanji had scrawled down for him a while back on a crumpled up piece of paper. He takes special care to fold that one and keep it near the snail, just in case his hope for the day didn’t go as planned. At least he could call. (Though that really wasn’t Zoro’s thing).

He takes his swords, too, obviously. He grabs them from where he set them aside earlier, hooking them to his waist. They’re grumpy this morning- Shusui and Kitetsu at least. They don’t seem to have appreciated Sanji borderline suffocating them in the couch cushions last night. Zoro chuckles. Karmic retribution. Fittingly, Wado Ichimonji seems relatively unbothered.

Once he’s done- and it doesn’t take long- Zoro goes over to help the cook with dishes. He begins drying what Sanji’s already set out, and taking the wet ones from his hands once those are exhausted. Sanji doesn’t speak, just gives a small, quiet smile to himself when Zoro joins him.

When they’re done, they wordlessly leave the dish rags behind, both unsure of how to proceed. The only task on the to-do list today is to get Zoro to Sabaody. There’s not much they can do aside from that.

Sanji says as much. He asks Zoro if there’s anything else he needs, and then he awkwardly lights a cigarette as he watches Zoro pick up his pack and sling it over his shoulder. Zoro grunts as he does so, aware that the path the rest of the day follows is not up to him.

Sanji leads him out of the apartment. They head downstairs, becoming aware of the quiet chopping noises that come from the kitchen as they approach. Once their footsteps on the stairs become loud enough, they stop. Sanji grins. Zeff must be home.

They step down the last couple steps into the restaurant area and Sanji spots Zeff already looking dead at where the stairs end, expectant. When he sees them he throws his knife down and rushes out of the kitchen, closest to a run Sanji’s seen him do since he met the old man.

“Eggplant! Where the hell have you been !?” Zeff asks, anger surprisingly light in his tone- it’s overtaken with surprise and relief, which gives Sanji a funny feeling, especially when Zeff books it right to him and pulls him into an embrace. A brief, rough embrace, but an embrace nonetheless. He doesn’t even have time to hug the old man back before he steps away again and kicks Sanji squarely in the shin. 

“ OUCH-! What the hell, shitty-geezer!?”

“Where the hell were you!? I’ve been worried sick!”

“Well geez, hello to you too!”

“Answer the damn question! I’ve been looking for your stupid ass for days, you overgrown mosquito.”

Sanji hears Zoro chuckle behind him. He kicks him in the shin. Zoro shuts up.

“Well, uh…” Sanji inwardly frowns, guilt flowering. That explained why Zeff hadn’t been home last night. Fuck, he’d probably closed the restaurant early to go look for him. At night, too- where Zeff had absolutely no advantage but the slightest more possibility to find his idiotic vampiric son. Putting himself in danger and sacrificing time at the Baratie…Sanji felt the guilt simmer.

He channels his best impersonation of the mosshead beside him as he lays the barest-bones of the story out before his old man. “We ran into some trouble in the town over. But we’re good now.”

Zeff sighs. It’s a heavy sigh. He and Sanji didn’t share much between each other, if it wasn’t related to cooking or the restaurant or the house. Maybe something interesting that happened that day, a crude joke Patty told one of them. But he didn’t inquire too much about what Sanji did in his personal life, and Sanji seemed to like it that way. As a father, though, he wanted to know when it was something like this . Something possibly putting the kid in harm’s way. He crosses his arms and resigns himself to it. Maybe Sanji will tell him later, when the cabbage-patch kid was gone. … Unless he ends up going with him, Zeff thinks to himself. The danger he’d just been worried about would probably be even more ever-present, but then again- he’d never wanted to hold the kid on a short leash. Maybe he had, in some ways, over all these years, but the kid wasn’t so much a kid anymore. Zeff simmers on this. The thought brings him back to the two young men before him.

Right, the cabbage-patch kid was still here. He looks over at Zoro, standing stalwart behind Sanji with his bag over his shoulder. 

…His shoulder. That was presently wrapped in bandages, winding up around his lower neck. Where blood threatened to peek through in a vague, bite-shaped silhouette. And the skin that popped out just above the wrappings seemed just a bit too red and purple to be anything but a bruise. 

He looks back to Sanji, who looked bright, healthy, and chipper like no other, despite the vague overhanging somberness on the both of them. Zeff puts the pieces together quickly. The whole story, no, not at all, but the important bits.

And oh. Zeff was gonna murder his damn kid. 

He inflames, gesturing at Zoro with irritation. “Oi, what the fuck did I say!”

Sanji follows Zeff’s eyes, then stiffens. Shit. Zeff might as well have up and walked in on them. This was fucking embarrassing. His face burns up. “Sh-Shut up, old man!”

Zeff spits something back at him, Sanji spits something vague and offensive back. Zoro is lost as to what on earth they’re talking about. 

Zeff says a few variations of “I told you so” and Sanji never denies him outright, but takes every opportunity to insist whatever it is isn’t Zeff’s problem nor should he worry about it. Zoro reaches up and scratches the bite on his neck. It itches.

Finally, Zeff waves Sanji off, before looking between the two of them, simmering down, and shaking his head.

Then he speaks a few words that beget his wisdom, though at first it’s so shocking that neither of them see that.

“Fine, fine. Four seas. Just go with him, would you?” Zeff breathes, flapping his hand like it’s the most flippant thing to say in the world.

Zoro and Sanji both freeze upon comprehension, raising their eyebrows. 

“Wait, what?” Sanji asks.

“What?” Zoro echoes.

Zeff repeats himself. “Just go with him.” He says to Sanji, nodding at the mosshead just next to him. “I know that you want to.”

“What…? No, Zeff-”

“Eggplant, you’ve been more of a pain in my ass these past couple weeks than you’ve been since the day I met you. I haven’t seen you this energetic since the last time a cockroach got in the loft. Just go. Besides, maybe with you gone I’ll be able to set the Baratie up somewhere for more than a couple months at a time.” He says, scoffing as he does so. There’s a small, humorous smile on his lip- but it holds more than that, too.

Sanji’s mouth opens and closes a few times like a fish. He decides on being argumentative.

“You’re joking, right? You can’t run this place with just Thing 1 and Thing 2, you know that!”

“Patty and Carne are just as much a pain in my ass as you are. Don’t worry, they’ll make up for your absence.”

“ They’ll make up for my-? Patty and Carne together shouldn’t even count for half of me!” Sanji yells, clenching both fists at his side. By now, Zeff has said his piece. He’s staring at Sanji testingly.

Sanji holds his gaze a little longer, then tsks sharply, turning around and shoving his hands into his pockets.

“I’m going for a smoke.” He proclaims, before walking out the back door of the kitchen and slamming it behind him.

Zeff and Zoro are left alone in the kitchen, staring at where the reactive chef has fled. Zeff crosses his arms and closes his eyes with a long, ragged sigh. Zoro awkwardly fiddles with his swords. 

“So are you gonna go after him, or should I?” Zeff asks.

—

Zoro ends up volunteering, partially because he wants out of that kitchen as soon as possible. He expects to find Sanji on the back deck of the restaurant, but he isn’t there. And perhaps it’s Zoro’s poor sense of direction, but even after circling all around the restaurant and down the dock towards the inn, he doesn’t find Sanji. Not anywhere in town, at least. 

He has a feeling he might know where the cook’s fucked off to. He also has a feeling that even if he gets lost trying to get there, he’ll make it anyway, because it’s the same place he always seems to end up around here when he’s lost. 

—

Zoro starts to recognize some of the trees wound around the clearing when he gets close. He tries to be quiet, but he knows Sanji will hear him anyway. When he steps into the clearing Sanji is leaned up against one of the trees that marks its perimeter, two cigarettes deep and working on a third one. 

Zoro leans up against his own tree, right across the way from Sanji’s.

“Back where it all began, huh?”

Sanji looks up at him, not at all surprised to find him there. He takes the cig from his mouth and sighs, smoke inadvertently spilling out of his mouth along with it.

“I can’t leave Zeff.”

“You want to.”

“Yea, but I can’t.”

Zoro readjusts his position. He wonders briefly if this conversation will go any different than their last one on the subject.

“He clearly wants you to go, too. I don’t see the problem.”

Sanji laughs humorlessly. “ I’m the problem, Zoro.” Then he closes off his posture even more, which Zoro didn’t think possible. Zoro closes the space between them, walking over to the cook’s side.

“I’ve always felt like a fuck up- as a son, as a vampire, as a person- though I guess I can’t even claim that last one. And sometimes? I doubt the All Blue is even real. I read about it in those books in the dungeon all those years ago, and it was a glimmer of hope for a scared kid, but…is it realistic?” He’s staring past the cigarette in his hand, at the ground. His eyes harden as he gets around to what he must really have been thinking of all this time.

“You know, that day I met Zeff, after he pried me off that guy’s arm…I bit him, too. Tore into his leg all nasty like. He got sepsis, had to have the thing taken off. Later, when he was in the hospital recovering, I was sure he must hate me. Some little kid shows up in his kitchen, attacks the staff, makes the man lose a damn limb…I asked why he didn't, why he would even save me. He said it's because we have the same dream.” His eyes crinkle, staring at the ground like it might give him any answers. Zoro’s eyes have widened a bit at the drop of such heavy information, but he’s careful not to make it seem like he’s judging the other man. As if Sanji would meet his eyes right now anyway.

Instead, he decides to speak. 

“...Isn’t that even more reason to go find it?”

Sanji snubs the cigarette out on the cool dirt. “But I’m the reason he can’t go find it himself.”

Zoro scoffs. Sanji has tunnel vision. “That old man can do what he wants. He can still walk, can’t he? He’s got a boat. This isn’t about that. He’s got a new dream.”

Sanji swivels his head to look up at him, confused. “What, the restaurant?”

“ You, idiot.”

Sanji looks at him like he’s said the unthinkable, eyes wide and brows furrowed. Eventually he makes some array of microexpressions, then lights another cigarette and looks to Zoro after a pull from it.

“...Even so. Don’t you think running off with some guy I just met is just a little bit crazy? I mean, what are we, in love? ”

He looks to Zoro, quick, like he wants an answer- but he looks away before Zoro can react.

“Besides, you’re a bounty hunter and I'm a vampire. It's not exactly, I don’t know, palatable? And how would I even feed myself without getting your asses in trouble? And wouldn't they be uncomfortable-?”

“Cook.”

Sanji meets his eyes for the millionth time this interaction, finally looking scared. Zoro feels oddly…fond, despite his frustration at the moment.

“You’re never gonna get anywhere if you never try. Sometimes doing something a little crazy is the way to do that.” He crosses his arms. “We’ll figure it out.”

Zoro seems so sure of himself, despite the fact Sanji knows he has plenty of unknown answers himself. He will never understand that about the swordsman.

“...That’s your answer. We’ll just figure it all out.” He deadpans.

“Yea.” Zoro answers. “Pretty much.”

But the least he can do is try.

Sanji stands, allowing Zoro to help him up. He takes a moment to finish his cigarette, during which Zoro waits patiently. Then he snubs the light out on the bottom of his dress shoe, pocketing the ashy nub. They turn back the way they came, Sanji leading them back to town.

—

The restaurant’s open by the time they get back. Zoro can sense that it makes Sanji even more uneasy- as if interrupting Zeff for a single moment of his workday is the straw that will break the camel’s back in trying to get the other man to do this. Nonetheless, without a word from Zoro, Sanji takes a deep breath in and walks bravely through the restaurant, to the back and through the kitchen door, where Zoro can barely make out the two of them having a jarringly brief conversation before Sanji re-enters the dining room, then gestures for Zoro to follow him upstairs.

“...Was that it?” Zoro asks.

“Pretty much.” Sanji replies, simply, and heads up to the loft.

—

Zoro helps the blonde pack a small suitcase and a couple bags- clothes, recipe books, cigarettes, hair products, and a variety of other things Sanji assumes he’ll need for a life on the road. Or, the ocean, rather. Zoro had at one point mentioned they had a boat, but the facilities provided within which he was still unsure of.

They do so quietly, and it doesn’t take long. Near the end Zoro catches the tail end of Sanji tossing a small, framed photo into his backpack, but says nothing. 

When they do head downstairs, Sanji heads straight to the door, treading through the restaurant without even a passing glance. Zoro feels the need to look around and catch the gaze of the awestruck chefs staring out of the kitchen for him. 

Though this had been his idea, and he still believed Sanji needed to chase his dream, he couldn’t help but feel like the cook was going about leaving the wrong way. Which is saying a lot, for Zoro, who had mastered the Flevish Goodbye years ago. He stares at the back of the blonde’s head as they exit the restaurant. The cook had been so hesitant to leave, and yet here the idiot was fucking up his departure. He was about to take matters into his own hands- reach out and spin the cook around by his shoulder for yet another pep talk he felt stupid giving- when Zeff’s voice catches them in their tracks, just about to leave the bright wood of the Baratie’s deck and hop to the darker oak of the docks.

“Eggplant!”

Sanji freezes in place. Zoro turns first. Sanji takes a moment, then slowly looks over his shoulder to where Zeff, Patty, and Carne stand waiting by the door. 

Perhaps for Zoro it’s too far to tell, but Sanji can see immediately the glassy sheen of Zeff’s eyes- the small wall of tears welling up in them but not yet to fall. Sanji feels his own eyes well up with tears in an instant. He curses to himself.

“You better find that damn paradise, you hear me?” Zeff yells, and his gravelly voice is lit up with emotion- sad, yes, but predominantly with a strange happiness Sanji doesn’t think he’s ever heard the man carry before. A big grin is spread over the old man’s face when he finishes.

Sanji blinks, and he feels the tears fall. Fuck it.

He drops his bags, Zoro catching the last one as it’s slung off his shoulder. Sanji springs off from his place at the end of the deck, running forward to catch his old man in a tight embrace. Zeff hesitates, then wrenches his eyes shut, his own tears now spilling out from the pressure. He wraps his arms around the kid and squeezes tight. He’d never thought he’d be a father- hell, wasn’t even sure he’d make it far enough to have the restaurant with the rough life he once lived. But here he was, with his first and only leaving the nest after years of a tumultuous, at times standoffish, but yet still the most enriching relationship he’d had. And he was proud of him, damn it. 

By the time they separate, Patty and Carne have lost it as well. They’re far less modest about their tears- blubbering and crying freely as they pull Sanji into the most back-breaking double-hug he’s ever received. When they do let him go, Sanji’s left staring at the man who raised him and the two idiots who watched him grow into the chef he is now. They’ve lightened the mood, at least. Sanji smiles.

“I’ll find it, Zeff. I promise.” 

Zeff smiles, softer than usual, and pats Sanji on the arm. Then he turns, nodding at Patty and Carne to follow.

“C’mon, jerks. It’s the middle of the lunch rush; we’ve wasted enough time as it is.”

With a final look over their shoulders to Sanji, the two wipe their tears and head inside with Zeff. The door flings open, then shut, and then they’re gone. Sanji seems to consider lighting a cigarette, but thinks better of it. He turns and rejoins Zoro at his side.

“Ready to go, Cook?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

—

Previously unbeknownst to Sanji, their boat actually is quite well-furnished. At least, that’s what he’s told. It’s not here on the island. 

Apparently, considering Zoro’s lack of direction, Nami would never allow him to sail the ship by himself. She had sailed him here with Usopp and Chopper, dropped him off, and then gone on her merry way, returning the previous few times with her broom or some magic. Usopp and Chopper had made their way here with their boat, the Going Merry , which had been provided by Usopp when he joined the team. But when they’d left, they’d again taken it with them, leaving Zoro and Sanji with the predicament of finding a way to Sabaody themselves. This was completely doable, of course, plenty of ferries would take them there- but Zoro didn’t have quite enough money for that- not without having cashed in Moria’s bounty yet. And Sanji- yes, he had money- but no longer with a proper job (for the moment) he was intent on saving it. 

The good news was: Sanji already owned a boat. A small sloop he used every so often that he’d bought after saving up a few paychecks a few years back. It usually stayed docked alongside the Baratie, and it was technically his, but he still felt odd taking it without permission. Regardless, he wasn’t about to ruin his emotional goodbye with Zeff to ask a stupid question, so the two of them untied the small vessel and climbed in after ensuring they hadn’t left anything else behind. They did have to buy a log pose that pointed to Sabaody, for which Sanji paid, but it was a small and necessary sacrifice.

Sabaody wasn’t far, but it was a few days’ journey. Luckily, said sloop did have a galley. A very, very small one- consisting of a stove, a sink, and a fridge- but a galley nonetheless. Sanji had packed a bit of food for the journey, and with the cook in charge of meals, Zoro was sure they’d be more than adequately fed until they made it there. Doubly lucky was the fact that it had a small living space- and a lofted bed. Just one, but they no longer foresaw that being an issue. 

After they set sail, ensured their course to be set and the weather at least foreseeably non-fatal, the two of them trudged beneath deck and fell onto the padded benches there. It seemed that all the physical and emotional toil from the past few days was finally catching up with them now that they had a chance to rest. 

“I’m exhausted.” Sanji grumbles, long limbs set out along the bench he’s sat at. Zoro is across from him, already preparing for a nap.

“So am I. See you in a few hours.” He says, propping his arms up behind his head. He’s promptly kicked in the side. 

“Ow! What the fuck, shit-cook?”

“We have to stay awake to keep an eye on the boat. If I gotta do it, so do you.”

“What, so we both have to suffer!? Let me rest; you’ll get your turn later.”

Sanji frowns at that. He isn’t really a nap person- more a tough it out until he collapses at the end of the night type of guy. But he relinquishes, nonetheless, pulling his foot away from Zoro. The swordsman gives him another glare before closing his eyes, though the pissed-off expression stays. Despite himself, it makes him laugh. He never believed Zeff when he used to tell him that making an ugly face too long would make it stay that way, but looking at Zoro now, he’s almost unsure.

He gets up and eyes the clock. Might as well start on lunch.

—

When Zoro wakes up to the smell of food, they eat, check their course, and, surprisingly, switch off. Sanji never thought he’d fall to the ranks of a nap taker- especially after being more well-fed than he’s been in weeks- but the strain of it all is more emotional than physical, and he allows himself a one time exception to his own rule. When he wakes up hours later, the first thing he does is ensure Zoro hasn’t somehow drastically thrown them off course (to which he has not, thank the seas) and gets started on dinner. Spicy seafood pasta, he decides- perfect, considering Zoro decided to do some fishing while he was out.

They eat, and despite his temptation for another nap this late in the day, Zoro instead finds himself watching the cook. Sanji is looking thoughtfully out one of the porthole windows, expression unreadable. 

“You okay, cook?”

Sanji blinks, looking back at him, then returning his gaze to the window with a shake of the head. “I’m fine. Just…thinking ahead, I guess.”

“Having second thoughts?”

He shakes his head again, more forceful this time. “No, nothing like that. Thinking about it…in a good way, I guess.” He pauses.

“They will be alright with me coming along though, right?”

Zoro rolls his eyes. “Yes, cook, like I’ve told you a million times. I’m pretty sure the witch already has you worked into our budget.”

Sanji sighs dreamily. “Ah, getting to sail with Nami-swan for the foreseeable future, too…A dream come true!”

Zoro’s tempted to repeat the motion. He frowns, shaking his head instead. “She has no interest in you, idiot.”

Sanji sighs. “Alas, you’re right. It seems I only catch the interest of wayward swordsmen.” He says, hand over his heart as he turns to Zoro with dramatic, teasing theatrics. Zoro flips him off. 

Sanji plops himself back down on the bench, facing forward again. “I, uh…About that.” He rubs the back of his neck, eyeing the bandages covering Zoro’s. “What are we, exactly?”

Zoro changes his posture, awkward. Much as he’s tried to instill in Sanji the attitude of not worrying over every minute detail, he supposes not all habits can be kicked so easily. Especially things of this matter, with the lovecook of all people. And perhaps it’s a valid question to have, especially if they’re going to explain this to the others. 

“I dunno. What do you want us to be, cook?”

“...Together, I guess. Exclusively, that is.” Visions of Ace briefly pop into his head. He should send the guy a letter. And maybe an expensive bottle of liquor, as a thank you for all the ‘drinks’ he’s given Sanji over the years.

Zoro nods. “Sounds good enough to me.”

Sanji snorts. What a perfectly Zoro response. Nevertheless, he knows it’s as candid as any other. 

Zoro speaks up again. “Does that mean you’ll only be feeding off me, then?”

Oh. How had he forgotten that part? …Was that sustainable? He’d had that worry before, and with whatever that serum had done to him, suppressed now as it may be…

“Oi, Cook, stop freaking out. I can see the dusty wheels in your head trying to turn.”

Sanji gives him a quick glare, before returning to said introspective expression. “It’s a good question. I’d like to say yes, but I doubt you’ll be able to do that. Truth be told, I’m already starting to feel a little thirsty again after last night.”

“Well, it’s been almost 24 hours. It’s not like you need three square meals a day.” Zoro shrugs. “I could probably handle that.”

Sanji could knock him over the head. “You can’t just proclaim it to be true, jackass! We’ll have to wait and see what Chopper says.” Sanji decides, disliking the uncertainty. 

Zoro, ever the instigator, looks at Sanji with a look. Then, he asks,

“Is the ship secure?”

“What? Yea, for now. We’ll have to check it again in a few hours- take turns on night shift. Why?”

The swordsman reaches up, undoing the bandages around his throat. Sanji quirks an eyebrow.

“...What are you doing?”

“Testing a theory.” 

“...Zoro.” The blonde replies, tone already a warning. 

Zoro pulls off the last of the bandages, exposing the bruised bite mark on his neck. Or, what’s left of it. It’s healed quite well since last night. Zoro relaxes his posture, arms splayed out on the back of the bench, head tilted to the side just enough to open up his neck and give Sanji a smug grin.

“Yea, Cook?” He smirks.

“I’m not even that desperate yet, so don’t even think about-”

“You need to be desperate before you’ll let yourself eat? C’mon, Cook. Doesn’t have to be a lot.”

Sanji’s still, eyes shifting back and forth between Zoro’s stupid, pretty face and its inviting stare and the blotchy mark he’d left on the mosshead just last night. Every day is certainly not doable, that he knows, but…Just this once? As a treat? Well. 

Perhaps he’ll have to start practicing meditation with the idiot swordsman to fend off temptation. Strengthen his willpower, or whatever. Self-control and all that. 

…But later.

He stomps over, straddling Zoro’s lap with a frown. 

“This isn’t going to be the norm, just so you know.” He informs him, leaning down to the crook of his neck. Zoro just grins further. “Sure, Cook.” He replies.

Sanji grabs him by the chin, tilting his head a bit further and earning an excited rise in heartbeat from the green-haired man. Sanji feels the pulse beating under his tanned skin quicken as he licks a strip over it, feeling his fangs lengthen. 

“I don’t think you’re even interested in keeping me fed.” Sanji murmurs, nipping playfully at his neck, despite the annoyed tone. “I think you’re just into this.” He decides, ghosting over Zoro’s ear. Another nip.

Zoro digs his fingertips into the blonde’s back, pressing him forward. “None of your business, Curly.”

Sanji would roll his eyes, but he’s unfortunately fallen under the idiot’s spell. Or, is about to, anyway. 

He bites into him hard, just below the other bite from before. Zoro gasps, fingertips wrenching into Sanji’s shirt now, threatening to rip. Sanji loosens up almost immediately, but sucks down Zoro’s blood greedily. It still upsets him just how good it tastes. Zoro is panting heavily beneath him the whole time he drinks him down, groaning in pain or delight- Sanji can’t quite tell- and whining when Sanji pulls away after only a few moments to lick the wound closed with a heavy, flat tongue. 

Sanji sits back and admires his work, licking his lips of the excess blood, and quirking an eyebrow at the flustered look of disappointment Zoro is giving him. He can’t help but chuckle.

“You’re hopeless.” He proclaims.

“You’re a tease.” Zoro glares.

“I’m a tease-? ” Sanji growls out, then quiets himself. Whatever. He doesn’t want to argue right now. He’s in an exceptionally good mood given the snack, and he doesn’t want to ruin it. It’s not the only mood he’s in, either.

“Whatever. Do me a favor and maybe I’ll take a bit more.” Sanji says, leaning forward to take Zoro’s chin in his hand again.

Zoro looks at him dubiously. “What kind of favor?”

Sanji grins- because he wins doubly so if Zoro accepts. That, and the fact that this is the exact opposite of the last time they fucked. Or at least, he hopes it will be. 

“Let me have my turn.” He says with a grin, tilting his head to lean in close. Zoro seems to think it over for a moment, before finally he bites his lip, attempting to suppress a grin.

“Fine, curly. Have it your way.”

And so he does.

—

Their arrival to Sabaody comes the day after next. It’s almost sunset when they pull up to the telltale striped trees that make up the archipelago, pulling the boat into port next to a sheep-headed caravel that Zoro claims to be theirs. 

In the few days it took them to reach the archipelago, Sanji has unfortunately only become more anxious. Excited, yes. But still unsure of himself.

Zoro is nothing of the sort. He anticlimactically yawns, before cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting up at the deck,

“HEY, WITCH! USOPP, CHOPPER! THROW THE LADDER DOWN!”

Sanji blinks at him, already feeling a bit like an intruder, and now feeling like a rude one. Zoro doesn't seem to find anything wrong with his action- in fact, now that they’re here at the boat, Zoro suddenly seems a lot more casual- comfortable- than before. He can see it in the soft way he looks at the ship and the subtle way he relaxes his shoulders. Because it’s Home, Sanji imagines. Taking a look at the ship…it certainly seems like one. Homey…It has that calming, cozy vibe to it, especially as he looks over the simplistically carved sheep figurehead in its ever-present smile. 

It's Nami who stomps over to the railing to glare down at them, though when she sees Sanji she brightens, a smile spreading over her face. 

“Took you two long enough!” She calls, tossing the ladder over with only a bit of struggle. 

Sanji doesn't miss her wording, the thought bouncing around in his head even as he follows behind Zoro to climb up the ship with one of his bags over his shoulder. 

‘You two?’ Nami didn't know he was coming, did she? Zoro had never called her to tell him so, as far as he could tell…

When they make it on deck Chopper and Usopp emerge from inside, smiling and eager for their gruff swordsman to rejoin them. Chopper runs right to him, finding himself swooped up into a noogie as he giggles, exclaiming that he doesn't like when Zoro does that, despite his absolutely contrary laughter. 

“It’s good to have you back!” Chopper exclaims. “It feels like you’ve been gone for so long!”

“Yea, almost a month!” Usopp adds, hands on his hips behind them both.

Zoro grunts pleasantly. “Yea, well, blame him.” He says, nodding over to Sanji, who’s almost awkwardly made himself small right off of the ladder. Chopper and Usopp don't seem to have even noticed he’s there until Zoro says something, their heads swiveling over to find him, blinking in surprise, much as Sanji expected them to, and then- when he expects the screams or the awkward call for a ‘crew meeting’ or some other negative reaction to his arrival- 

“Sanji! Are you coming with us!?” Chopper asks, eyes like little stars. 

He blinks. “Uh- Yea, if that’s okay-?”

“Yea! It’s been a while since we had someone new join the crew!” He says, hopping down from Zoro’s hold. “Actually, it was me!

Usopp sighs. “Yea, I don't know how we survived without a doctor for so long.” He grumbles, looking at Zoro in particular. 

Sanji isn’t sure he’s taken in their pleasant reception yet. “Well, now you'll have a cook, too.” He adds, trying to prove his worth. 

The three of them seem to relax a million pounds from their shoulders. 

“And thank the SEAS for that, I was getting real tired of trying to feed these idiots every night.” Nami says, hand to her temple. 

“And I was getting really tired of eating your food.” Usopp mumbles, surprisingly brave of him. Nami sends him a withering glare and sparks seem to converge in the air. Usopp shuts up. 

“Speaking of!” She announces. “I had a feeling you’d be coming back with Zoro, so I took the liberty of cleaning up the galley for you.” 

Usopp looks appalled. “Hey! You did not; you told me to clean it up!” 

“It’s this way, Sanji!” She sings, ignoring Usopp and floating pleasantly towards the door on the upper deck. Sanji just laughs, and the rest of the crew follows after despite Usopp’s bitter mumblings.

When she opens the door, Sanji steps in and feels his heart skip a beat. The kitchen wasn't anything amazing- it was average, hell, maybe a bit snug - but it was his. And they were giving it to him- had prepared it for him to welcome him. He puts down his bag on the small table and walks forward, running a cool hand over the counter. 

When he looks back, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, and Chopper are looking at him with expectant grins of varying intensity. He can't help but smile back, grinning just as wide as the rest of them. 

“It’s perfect. In fact, I might just have to try it out. Anybody hungry?”

—

After lunch, which the rest of the small group they've acquired claim is the best food they've ever tasted- They collect the rest of Sanji’s things from his sloop and tie his little ship onto the back of the Merry. 

He expects some of it- any of it- to be some big thing. But it's not. It's small, it’s casual, it's carefree- and it's comfortable. Like Zoro seemed to find it, too. He feels his spirits rise with each new hour he spends among them. He flits after Nami, dotes on Chopper, teases and chats alike with Usopp, and when Zoro isn't taking a nap on deck or starting frivolous arguments with him, he follows the swordsman to the bunkroom and steals away a kiss. 

It's almost like heaven.

Eventually, Nami pulls him aside to talk logistics. Grocery budgets and living expenses, mostly, but she discusses the fragile topic that is ‘ how will we feed you ’ as well. Sanji's prepared to sacrifice his appetite 99% of the time, though he's assured Chopper has already come up with a schedule to draw blood from each of the crew members on a rotating basis in order to keep the fridge stocked. 

He hates it, at first- the thought of it. But Nami won’t take no for an answer, and he’s told Chopper won’t, either. Besides, Nami tells him- having a vampire on the inside could prove quite useful in hunting them. It takes much back and forth with practically the whole crew, but eventually, he allows himself to take their charity. Though, internally, he still hopes that feeding off Zoro whenever possible will keep this aspect to a minimum. Not like Zoro would mind.

They set off after dinner that night. Nami announces their next destination: to Alabasta, a desert country where they'll be going after a big hit on an underground, mysterious organization of rogue supernaturals. 

It sounds like a challenge- maybe even more so than Thriller Bark was. But Sanji thinks he may be ready for it. Anxieties still haunt him- how reliably he’ll really be able to feed, how that serum will affect him, how he and Zoro will work out, how he’ll fit into the crew- he tries not to show it outwardly, but it's all an unknown to him. 

Though, when he lays down in the hammock he's been given, listening to Usopp snore and Chopper rustle around, he still feels like he's made the right choice. Especially when Zoro looks both ways as he approaches his own hammock, ensuring the rest are asleep, before giving Sanji a content look and a lazy kiss. He rests his hand on Sanji’s cheek a moment, looking uncharacteristically fond, before flicking Sanji’s nose and fucking off to his own hammock with a chuckle as the cook growls at him.

It's less than an hour later when they end up curled up in the same hammock, too tired to remember whose it is.

It's less than a week later that they find a note in a bottle out on the sea one day, a crudely scribbled note asking if any crews were ‘in need of a captain.’

It's less than a week after that that they find a fae with messy black hair and a beat up straw hat napping in the sloop they tug behind them. 

Less than a month after Luffy finds them and proclaims himself captain is when they free the princess they meet in Alabasta from the sand shapeshifter Crocodile, saving her country and dissolving Baroque Works along with it.

And less than a day after they leave is when Miss Nico Robin herself steps out of a shadow on their deck, greeting them with that signature smile as she tells Sanji and Zoro how nice it is to see them again. 

It's less than 6 months since Sanji has joined them when they lose the Merry after the mess that was Skypeia, though it feels like he's known the ship forever. 

And when they head to Water 7, they pick up a new ship- the Thousand Sunny - and a new ‘human’ crewmate. At least, as human as the cyborg can be considered. (A small solace to Usopp, who feels he and Zoro are quickly being outnumbered.)

This small step forward for their count is quickly undone again as they find the skeleton Brook in those ghostly waters near Thriller Bark, which they pass by on their way back to Sabaody, now ready to face the New World with their newly full crew and a handful of new dreams among them.

And Sanji, anxieties and questions still among him, at least finds them…quieted. He doesn’t regret choosing to sail with the crew. He doesn’t regret choosing Zoro. He doesn’t regret choosing his own dreams, for once, either. And despite the off-color, motley crew he’s found himself dispersed in, and the hard adventures he knows awaits them in the New World…He’s excited, for once. For the future.

— Epilogue —

1 Year Later 

—

Zoro darts through the forest, swords tucked away in their sheath as he runs at top speed from the vampire chasing after him. He’s ducking under tree branches, bobbing around bushes and gnarled tree stumps, and cursing under his breath.

Roronoa Zoro does not run away from a fight. And that isn’t what he’s doing now, either. He’s not running. He’s redirecting.

Finally he reaches a clearing where he can fight the vampire head on. His opponent had gotten the drop on him in the middle of a dense wood, where fighting with his swords would be nigh impossible. He’d maybe be able to draw them, but there was no room to swing- and this one seemed dangerous, much as he hated to admit it. It was strong, and hungry. He wouldn’t have let it sneak up on him if he hadn’t been too distracted trying to find his way back to the campsite after he went to take a leak. And Jinbei had so condescendingly asked to accompany him, that he had insisted on walking even further off. A great idea that had been, clearly.

When he emerges into the open space he grins, skidding across the dirt and drawing Kitetsu and Enma with a dark smile as his back meets a tree. Busy as he is, he can’t help but feel a bit of nostalgia at the setting. Him, a forest clearing, and a leech out for his blood. It feels like yesterday and years ago all at the same time.

Said vampire in front of him is not as friendly as the one he’s thinking of, however. It slows, dons its own sickly grin, and stalks toward Zoro with intent.

“You’re even stupider than I thought if you think you can defeat me, getting lost trying to take a piss.”

Zoro frowns at that. “You’re the idiot, trying to take me on by yourself.” Maybe these woods were enchanted, too- they didn’t know that for sure. Fuck this guy. He was gonna cut him into ribbons, and he was gonna enjoy it.

The vampire chuckles. “I’m going to tear your throat open and drain you dry, bounty hunter- until your whole wardrobe is stained chartreuse. I’ll be the first and the last to ever touch that neck of yours.” He taunts, cocky.

Zoro stops frowning then, raising an eyebrow and growing a smirk. He lifts an arm to pull aside his shirt collar, where a fresh-but-fading bitemark graces his shoulder, amongst quite a few of older age.

“Sorry, buddy.” Zoro jeers. “Missed your chance.” 

The vampire gawks, and right as Zoro dives forward with Kitetsu to deal a one-hit-KO, a dress shoe and the long leg attached to it conks down on the other creature’s head, knocking him dead to the floor.

Sanji puts his foot down, staring in mild annoyance at the creature attempting to steal his favorite bloodbag/partner. He looks to Zoro, who looks ready to kill him in exchange. He instead haughtily dices the vampire’s head off, bitter that’s all he gets to do.

“I had that, shit-cook.” The swordsman grumbles.

Sanji scoffs. “What happened to working together?”

“I didn’t ask for your help when I walked off to take a leak, that’s what. I was looking forward to staining that guy red. Or, chartreuse , or whatever it was he said.” Zoro adds, throwing up his hands to mock the pretentious bastard as he puts away his swords. 

“Chartreuse?” Sanji asks, raising an eyebrow. 

Zoro nods. “Yea, that’s the word he used.”

Sanji smirks, slipping an arm around Zoro’s shoulders and rubbing a strand of his hair between his gloved fingers as he does so. “Well, then he really was an idiot. Chartreuse is a shade of green .” He chuckles, before pressing a quick kiss to Zoro’s temple. The swordsman grumbles something else, but ultimately allows the touch, even leaning into it as they walk back to camp where the rest of the crew awaits them.