Work Text:
The stars began to glimmer faintly above the Thousand Sunny, their light scattered across a black sky. The crew had all settled into their post-dinner routines. Zoro was already leaning against the mast, dozing, his swords resting nearby. Robin reclined with a book in her lap, while Chopper was engrossed in Luffy’s passionate debate with Brook about the merits of different cuts of meat. Franky had retreated to his workshop, tinkering away at something that occasionally let out mechanical whirs and sparks.
And then there was Usopp.
Sanji had been washing the dishes for what felt like hours, though his movements had slowed considerably. His eyes kept straying to where Usopp sat sprawled on the deck near the lantern light, sketching furiously in his notebook. His hands moved in animated flourishes, the pencil catching the light as he explained whatever brilliant idea he’d come up with this time.
“And if I adjust the bands to account for wind resistance, I can increase range by at least twenty percent!” Usopp was saying to both no one in particular and everyone, his voice rising with excitement. His smile stretched wide, teeth flashing as he flipped the page and began another diagram.
Sanji didn’t hear the specifics—he couldn’t focus on anything but the way Usopp’s face glowed under the lantern light, how his hair caught in the faint breeze, how the sheer joy in his expression made something twist warmly in Sanji’s chest.
A plate slipped from his soapy hands, clattering into the sink.
“You’re staring again,” came a smug voice from behind him.
Sanji flinched, whipping around to see Nami standing there with a glass in hand, a bemused smirk tugging at her lips. She raised an eyebrow, clearly delighted at catching him acting like he was a teenager with a highschool crush.
“I’m not staring,” Sanji hissed, quickly turning back to the dishes.
Nami sauntered over, leaning against the counter with an air of practiced nonchalance. “Oh, please. You’ve been making googly eyes at Usopp all day. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
Sanji bristled, his face heating up as he scrubbed a plate with unnecessary vigor. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Uh-huh.” Nami swirled her drink, watching him with the sharpness of a hawk spotting prey. “You’ve been zoning out mid-dish, sneaking glances at him during meals, and don’t think I didn’t see you almost trip over the table earlier when he laughed at something Franky said.”
“That didn’t happen,” Sanji snapped, though his voice lacked conviction.
“Oh, it absolutely did,” Nami replied, grinning. “It’s kind of cute, actually. Seeing you all flustered. Usually, you’re the one throwing out cheesy lines and making people blush, but now? Look at you.”
Sanji groaned, setting the plate down with a little too much force. “Can you not? I’m trying to work here.”
“And failing miserably,” Nami quipped. She set her glass down and leaned in slightly, her voice softening. “Look, I’m not teasing to be mean. I just think it’s nice. Usopp’s a good guy. He’s clever, loyal, and way more capable than people give him credit for. You could do worse.”
Sanji froze, her words catching him off guard. “You really think so?”
Nami shrugged, her smirk softening into a genuine smile. “Yeah, I do. And honestly, I think he’d be good for you too. He keeps you grounded.”
Sanji hesitated, his heart pounding as he let her words sink in.
Before he could respond, Usopp’s voice broke through the quiet hum of the ship.
“Hey, Sanji! You done with the dishes yet? I need your opinion on something!”
Sanji’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name. He glanced toward the deck, where Usopp was waving a sheet of paper excitedly, his grin wide and unguarded.
Nami smirked, nudging Sanji with her elbow. “Better get going, lover boy.”
Sanji glared at her, cheeks flaming, but he couldn’t hide the small, nervous smile tugging at his lips.
He dried his hands quickly and made his way over to Usopp, trying not to let his steps feel too hurried. Usopp didn’t seem to notice his awkwardness; he was already launching into an explanation of his latest invention.
“Okay, so here’s what I’m thinking,” Usopp began, holding up the sketch with one hand and gesturing wildly with the other. “If I adjust the trajectory of the slingshot and add a stabilizer, I can—”
Sanji didn’t hear the rest. He was too busy staring at the way Usopp’s eyes lit up, how his grin stretched across his face as he talked, the way the moonlight made the black of his hair shimmer with faint shades of brown.
“—Sanji? You listening?”
Sanji blinked, realizing too late that he’d been caught. “Uh, yeah. Stabilizer. Sounds… great.”
Usopp tilted his head, giving him a curious look. “You okay? You seem kinda out of it.”
Sanji cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus. “I’m fine. Just thinking about… recipes.”
Usopp nodded, apparently satisfied with the excuse, and went right back to his explanation. He had to look away for a moment, pretending to adjust his cigarette to keep his composure. Nami’s words echoed in his mind.
You could do worse.
Sanji glanced back at Usopp, who was now scribbling corrections on his sketch, his tongue poking out slightly in concentration.
No, he couldn’t do better. Not in a million years.