Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s obvious when Sanji’s having a nightmare, Zoro’s learned. First his eyes will twitch. Then he’ll roll on to his side. Next his whole body will curl into a ball. Then he’ll start shaking, occasionally accompanied by muttering. Finally, he’ll awake with a jolt upright and a startled gasp.

Zoro observes this cycle night after night from his own hammock above Sanji’s. His heart starts pounding every time he sees that familiar roll into fetal position, knowing well what’s about to happen. Zoro doesn’t dare ask what the nightmares are about-Curlybrows would react with something to the tune of kicking him into next Tuesday-but he doesn’t need to know. All he knows is that when Sanji suffers, the whole crew suffers from the after effects.

That’s why on this night when he sees Ero-Cook curl into a ball, Zoro quietly climbs down from his own hammock and crawls next to Sanji. He’s shaking and his face is twisted into a panicked grimace as Zoro wraps his muscular arms around him, one arm cradling his head and the other around his shoulders. Zoro holds him tight and Sanji continues to tremble, fear etched on his sleeping face.

“Hey Cook, snap out of it.” Zoro whispers as Sanji’s breathing picks up. It comes out in terrified gasps.

“Curlybrows.” Zoro tries again, squeezing him a little tighter. “You’re okay, I promise that you’re safe. It’s all in that stupid head of yours.”

Sanji mutters something into Zoro’s shoulder, somehow tensing even more. Zoro braces himself for what’s next.

“Sanji, calm down-you’re safe.” Zoro starts rubbing Sanji’s back. “Just relax, you’re okay.”

A tense moment passes. Then another. Zoro feels Sanji’s entire body unclench at once under his firm grasp. Sanji’s body gradually unfurls and the grimace on his face softens. Zoro lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He continues to absentmindedly rub the cook’s back, coaxing the tense muscles to relax under his touch.

Sanji’s eyes lazily crack open. He tilts his head upward and his sleepy, half-lidded gaze meets Zoro’s. Zoro fully expects him to kick him out of the hammock, screaming loud enough to wake up the whole crew, but to his surprise Sanji closes his eyes and nuzzles his head into Zoro’s shoulder while wrapping his arms around the swordsman’s broad torso. He’s asleep within seconds, his features relaxed.

Zoro readjusts his grip on Sanji and closes his eyes as well. He doesn’t know what Sanji’s dreaming about now, but he can hope it’s not another nightmare. Zoro drifts off easily, still holding Sanji in his arms.
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The sun is barely above the horizon when Sanji opens his eyes. He’s comfortably warm, the kind of warm that makes you want to sleep a couple extra minutes. His heart isn’t hammering in his chest and he isn’t fighting to regain control of his lungs-all good things. Sanji shifts his gaze upward only to see the sleeping face of Mosshead in his hammock. His other senses start to wake up and he takes inventory-his face is nuzzled against Zoro’s shoulder, their arms embracing each other and their legs loosely tangled. Sanji can hear Zoro’s reassuring heartbeat from his angle as well as his steady breaths in his ear.

As much as Sanji refuses to admit it, he’s quite comfortable in Zoro’s arms. Almost too comfortable to leave.

But he promised Nami-chan a fancy breakfast, and enthusiastically plans to keep that promise. Sanji sighs and soaks in the warmth radiating off Zoro for a few more moments before quietly slipping out of his embrace. Zoro shifts a little but doesn’t wake up. Sanji envies Mosshead’s ability to sleep like a rock but is nonetheless grateful for some semi-decent sleep for the first time in weeks. He lights himself a cigarette and heads into the kitchen, busying himself with breakfast.

Chapter Text

Sanji mentally replays the moments waking up in Zoro’s arms throughout the morning as he prepares breakfast. The steady heartbeat in his ear, the whistle of his breath against his hair, that comforting warmth radiating off his body…it had been years since Sanji had felt that safe in another person’s embrace. It had also been the first night in weeks where morning came and he wasn’t overcome with tremors and trying to get his racing heart to settle. He knew exactly the feats of strength Zoro was capable of between their sparring sessions and fights on the Grand Line but that strength being used for such tenderness was a new concept to him.

He zests a lemon into his fruit compote as a question lingers in the back of his mind-what in the world possessed Mosshead of all people to climb into his hammock and comfort him at his most vulnerable? He stirs the fruit compote and turns down the heat to let it reduce before whisking together eggs, milk, honey, cinnamon, and nutmeg and dropping pieces of bread into it to soak.

A knock on the kitchen door draws him out of his thoughts. “Good Morning, Cook-san. May I come in briefly for some tea?”

“Good Morning, Robin-chan! I already have some hot water and lemon slices on the table for you!” Sanji replies cheerfully.

“How thoughtful-thank you.” Robin strolls in and helps herself to some tea as Sanji starts chopping onions and tomatoes.

He throws some dried chilis, cumin seeds, black peppercorns, paprika, and salt into a mortar and starts grinding them with a pestle. Sanji can feel Robin’s eyes on him as he places a pan on the stovetop to heat up. He hears her inhale deeply and sigh.

“Breakfast smells lovely, I’m looking forward to it.” Robin smiles as she heads to the deck, a cup of tea in one hand and a book tucked under her arm.

Sanji’s heart flutters at her comment. He turns back to the stove and starts sauteing the red onions and bell peppers. Zoro was probably sleepwalking, Sanji decides. This changes nothing about their relationship as nakama and he will treat it as such. Sanji can feel himself settling a bit as he adds the tomatoes and ground spices to the pan. The aromatics of the chilis and cumin seeds draws him into his cooking and out of his thoughts.

Today’s breakfast spread consists of Mary Geoise toast served with a couple varieties of fruit compotes and chai-infused honey; crepes with an array of sweet and savory fillings; and poached eggs in a fragrant and spicy tomato broth with a side of chickpea flatbread.

It’s an uneventful breakfast-Chopper douses everything in honey, Sanji has to fend off Luffy from taking seconds and thirds before people have finished their firsts, Robin reads in the corner, Nami looks over a map from their recent treasure haul, Usopp looks over blueprints for the Merry, and Zoro is silent.

Zoro’s silence shouldn’t bother the Cook at all but despite Sanji’s mental insistence that Zoro’s actions change nothing, the silence this morning feels…different somehow. Zoro continues to eat the spicy poached eggs, oblivious to Sanji’s frequent stares.

“What do you think, Marimo?” Sanji finally asks, gripping Luffy’s wrist while the Captain complains about wanting more Mary Geoise toast.

“Spicy eggs and mushroom and spinach pancakes with bacon are fine, everything else is too sweet for me.” Zoro shrugs.

“It’s called shakshuka and crepes, dumbass!” Sanji hisses. “And I’m not your personal chef so deal with the sweet stuff.”

“I think it’s all delicious!” Luffy interjects through a mouthful of food.

“I concur, Cook-san did a wonderful job with breakfast this morning.” Robin doesn't look up from her book as she nibbles on a final piece of Mary Geoise toast topped with berries.

Sanji feels a blush crawl across his cheeks at Robin’s words. Zoro rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, I’m going to go train. Thanks anyway for the food.” Zoro rises from the table and deposits his plate, devoid of any crumbs, into the sink.

“Useless Marimo,” Sanji mutters as he begins clearing away everyone else’s empty plates.

The galley clears out and Sanji is left alone with his thoughts again and he goes through the motions of cleaning up breakfast. He scrubs the dishes and cookware until they’re spotless and wipes down the counters of any errant food debris. The whole time he can hear Zoro grunting through his workouts, like he usually does, and Sanji tries to brush it off.

If Zoro isn’t treating today any differently than yesterday, why should I? Sanji decides.

The thought settles him again somewhat as he takes inventory of the pantry and starts planning out lunch and dinner. Sanji falls back into the familiar motions of cutting vegetables and skewering them. He then grates garlic and ginger and whisks it in a bowl of mirin, soy sauce, and honey and places cubes of raw fish in it to marinate. He washes the knife and cutting board and decides to take a smoke break on the deck.

He starts towards the door but stops at the threshold as soon as Zoro’s grunts come back into earshot. Sanji hesitates before lighting a cigarette to steady himself. If last night is bothering him so much, what's wrong with confronting Mosshead about it? They’re nakama, they’re more than capable of talking.

Sanji finally steps onto the deck, flooded with sunshine and is greeted with the sight of shirtless Zoro doing a set of shoulder presses, staring into the middle distance with a focused brow. His eyes briefly shift towards Sanji and then back to the horizon.

Several moments pass before Sanji finally speaks.

“Marimo.”

Zoro’s gaze shifts back to Sanji, continuing his set without missing a beat. Sanji looks at the ground while he takes a drag and blows out a stream of smoke.

“Why were you in my hammock this morning?” Sanji’s voice is calm, the forced kind.

Zoro starts a set of shoulder presses with his other arm.

“You looked like you were having a nightmare and-“

“What made you think I was having a nightmare?” Sanji cuts him off.

“I just knew you were having a nightmare.” Zoro’s gaze is still focused on the horizon.

“How?” Sanji presses.

Zoro is quiet for a few moments, the silence only punctuated by his rhythmic breaths as he continues his set.

“You’re not subtle when you’re having a nightmare. Your body reacts in the same way every time,” Zoro starts.

Sanji’s breath hitches. Zoro’s been watching him, he’s been watching him intently.

“You wake up looking distressed every morning,” Zoro continues, as if he didn’t just reveal how vulnerable Sanji is. “With our opponents growing stronger with every island, you not being well-rested is going to result in the crew being short on fighters and-”

“What gives you the right to watch me in my sleep?” Sanji demands, clutching the fabric inside his pockets.

Zoro huffs. “Do you want my help or not?”

“I never asked for your help! I asked why you crawled into my hammock last night!” Sanji snaps.

“Because you looked fucking terrified, Shitty Cook!“ Zoro’s voice is rising.

“I don’t need you to take care of me, Marimo!” Sanji spits. “I’m fully capable of doing that myself!”

With that, Sanji turns on his heel and slams the door to the kitchen behind him. He’s trembling, even his cigarette is shaking between his lips.

But why?

Chapter Text

Zoro watches as Sanji storms back into the kitchen. He rolls his eyes and resumes his shoulder presses. Idiot Cook will come to his senses eventually.

What’s the damn Cook’s problem anyway?

Was he in denial about the strength of their enemies? Not possible, he’s witnessed the rising stakes firsthand since Loguetown and has (mostly) acted accordingly. The stupid Cook had also been clever enough with his Mr. Prince routine in Alabasta to give them an upper hand in the fight against Baroque Works. Curlybrows was many things but oblivious was not one of those things (unless it came to women).

If being touched was the problem, why doesn’t he just say so?

The day carries on and finishes without much to note; Luffy is Luffy, Nami updates everyone on their position, Usopp regales the group with a tall tale at dinner, Chopper asks for a second serving of dessert, and Robin smiles from the corner seat with a book in hand. Sanji moves about the kitchen like the master of the house, head high and shoulders back, but avoids Zoro’s gaze.

Tonight’s dinner spread is sake and miso marinated fish with a side of ginger scallion rice and roasted vegetables of some kind. Zoro doesn’t bother to remember the name of it, it’s tasty, well-seasoned, and crunchy. He continues to observe the Cook wordlessly throughout dinner.

Zoro relocates to the nightwatch position, taking his dumbbells with him. He runs through his evening workout, methodically breathing through the exercises and making mental notes of personal records and areas where he can feel himself straining. By the time Usopp comes to relieve him, he’s worn out enough to retire to his hammock.

Luffy and Sanji are already fast asleep. Luffy is snoring loudly, sprawled on his back, and Sanji is facing the window, his face neutral. Zoro climbs into his own hammock and closes his eyes, mentally running through his stances and forms to drill the next day until he drifts off.

At some point in the night, the weight in his hammock shifts. Zoro’s heartbeat picks up but then the familiar, lingering smell of smoke fills his nostrils. The weight of someone’s head is now resting on Zoro’s collarbone, the fine and clean texture of the hair tells him it’s Sanji. Zoro doesn’t dare move or adjust his breathing until he feels the tension in Sanji’s shoulder’s fade and his breathing becomes smooth and rhythmic.

Carefully, Zoro draws an eye open.

In the semi-darkness of the cabin, illuminated by moonlight, is indeed Sanji curled up against him. His arms are loosely wrapped around Zoro’s waist and his legs rest alongside Zoro’s. The blonde’s face is relaxed, peaceful even.

Zoro closes his eye. If this is what it takes to make sure the two best fighters on the Going Merry are well-rested and alert, so be it. Luffy and Usopp share a little too much personal space all the time, so it’s not like they would care.

It’s for the good of the crew, Zoro reminds himself before falling back into the depths of sleep.

~~~

Sanji is gone when Zoro rises. The way it should be.

Today’s breakfast spread is soy marinated grilled fish, miso soup, pickled vegetables, some kind of omelet, and rice. It’s the same as every meal they have as a crew…except for the fact that the damn cook is still avoiding eye contact with Zoro.

If he’s not against touching-as proven by crawling into Zoro’s hammock last night-and he insists he “doesn’t need to be taken care of” then what in the four blues is his deal?

Zoro stares absentmindedly at the Cook’s back as he moves about the kitchen. For a split second, his gaze catches Zoro’s before turning back around to scrub a cast iron pan with salt.

“Hey Sanji, aren’t you going to join us? Everything is really tasty!” Luffy proposes through a mouthful of fish and egg.

“Maybe in a few minutes, I need to clean my cast iron pan before it cools down too much.” Blondie replies quickly.

Bullshit, Zoro thinks.

He finishes his portion and rises from the table, placing his plate and bowl beside the sink before exiting the kitchen and climbing to the crows nest to start his lookout shift.

~~~

“Do you think Curlybrows acting weird?” Zoro asks Luffy as he casts a fishing line.

Luffy shrugs. “No, haven’t noticed anything.”

Zoro watches the two fishing lines dance on the surface of the waves. Was he reading into the situation too much? No, something has got to be up with Sanji. Luffy wouldn’t suspect anything because Curlybrows wouldn’t dare disrespect their captain like that. If this truly was something between just him and Ero-Cook, maybe he should just keep it to himself too? No, there shouldn’t be secrets that disrupt crew synergy like that.

Zoro looks back at Luffy. The sunny straw hat teen hums to himself as he leans into the railing, eyes narrowed at the spot where their lines touch the waves.

“Nothing’s biting.” Luffy complains.

“We cast less than two minutes ago.” Zoro reminds him.

Luffy makes a noise that sounds like a cross between a groan and sigh.

“SAAAAAAANJI!” Luffy yells.

Zoro flinches.

“Nothing’s biting!!” He groans again.

“Of course nothing’s biting, you just started!” Sanji yells from the kitchen. “Plus Marimo’s stench is probably driving all the fish away.”

“If anything’s scaring them away it’s probably the smell of you cooking their friends!” Zoro snarks back.

“Be grateful I even cook for you at all, Stupid Swordsman!” Sanji yells.

Zoro opens his mouth to respond but the top of Luffy’s rod suddenly bends forward. Luffy adjusts his grip on the rod and starts to wrestle with it as the line attempts to swim away from the Merry. Zoro grabs Luffy’s waist and takes a wide stance as Luffy continues to struggle with his catch. Zoro drops his center of gravity as Luffy tugs again, successfully pulling a large tuna from the water and onto the deck of the Merry. A massive grin stretches across Luffy’s face.

“Sanji! Zoro and I caught something!” Luffy yells at the kitchen triumphantly.

“Good to hear Marimo pulling his own weight around here!” Sanji calls back from the kitchen.

Zoro doesn’t reply, he nods to himself. Perhaps Ero-Cook had finally gotten over whatever was going on in that dumb head of his.

~~~

That night, Zoro takes a long, hard look at Sanji upon entering the boys’ cabin. So far, it’s a peaceful night. Sanji is sound asleep, shoulders down, jaw slack, and loosely sprawled about. Zoro nods to himself, satisfied, before climbing into his own hammock and settling himself down for the night. He’s a couple seconds away from nodding off when he hears Sanji shift in the hammock below him.

Zoro’s eyes burst open.
He knows what comes next.

He silently climbs into Sanji’s hammock and takes the Cook into his arms, gently squeezing him from behind. A quiet sob escapes Sanji’s lips as he clenches his hands and knees against his chest, as if curling into the fetal position. Zoro gently grabs Sanji’s hands and runs his thumbs along the inside of his wrists.

“Just relax, ero-cook. It’s me, I’m here.” Zoro hooks his chin on Sanji’s shoulder. “Whether you want me here or not.” He added under his breath.

Zoro doesn’t move when he feels Sanji stir. He continues to rub small circles on the inside of Sanji’s wrists. The Cook doesn’t resist, he just lays there in silence while his breathing steadies. He doesn’t even protest Zoro’s calloused hands holding his oh-so-preciously maintained hands.

“Do you want me to leave?” Zoro asks after a while.

Sanji thinks for a moment. He eases his wrists out of Zoro’s grasp and rolls over so he’s facing Zoro. His blue eyes are soft and earnest.

“No.” Sanji states quietly.

Zoro responds by wrapping his arms around Sanji, one across his upper back and the other around his waist. Sanji’s arms wrap around Zoro’s neck in return,and he rests his head against Zoro’s shoulder. Sanji’s holding Zoro’s neck as if he’s holding on for dear life and not trying to fall asleep on the safety of the Going Merry. Zoro squeezes the back of Sanji’s shoulder.

“Relax.” He commands softly.

Surprisingly, the Cook doesn’t protest or snark back. Sanji’s muscles release under Zoro’s palm and his grip around Zoro’s neck loosens a bit. Zoro softly hums in approval. His fingers eventually find their way to Sanji’s hair, taking in the softness through long strokes. No sign of twitching features, no muttering to himself, just restful stillness. Zoro feels his own eyelids growing heavy as he sighs and closes his eyes, keeping a gentle hold on Sanji.

“Marimo?”

Zoro opens his eyes.

“What is this?” Sanji asks quietly. His eyes open and meet Zoro’s.

Zoro’s heart skips a beat.

“What’s what?” He asks, trying to keep his breathing steady (he can’t afford to freak out Sanji, he tells himself).

Sanji rolls his eyes. He gestures between the two of them, spooning in his hammock.

“This, what is this?” He repeats.

Sanji suddenly feels a lot heavier in his arms. Zoro shifts in the hammock, redistributing this new weight. His hand moves to the crown of Sanji’s head.

“We’re nakama looking after each other, that’s it.” Zoro says. “Don’t overcomplicate it.”

“Oh, really?” Sanji snorts.

Zoro sighs, recalling their argument on the deck from a couple days ago. He hopes it doesn’t escalate, especially at this hour.

“Our opponents are getting stronger the further we sail through the Grand Line. If we can’t keep our strength up, what good are we to Luffy?” Zoro glances at the gangly boy, passed out in his own hammock across the room. His now-famous straw hat rests on his chest, his hand keeping a protective grip on it.

“If we don’t sleep, we get sloppy. If we get sloppy, someone will get hurt. And I can’t allow that.” Zoro continues. “That’s what this is, Ero-Cook.”

Sanji doesn’t say anything for a long time. His gaze simply burns straight into Zoro’s. His stupid twirly brow furrows for a bit before relaxing.

“I suppose you’re right, for once.” Sanji mumbles. “I’ll allow this if, and only if, you never ask about my dreams.”

Zoro scoffs. “I don’t care about your night terrors. All I care about is you staying in fighting shape so we can make Luffy king of the pirates.”

Sanji doesn’t respond, he nods in agreement before closing his eyes again. He adjusts himself against Zoro’s sturdy frame and Zoro feels Sanji’s head become a gentle weight against his collarbone. Zoro studies the blonde strands falling over Sanji's face before turning his attention to the ceiling.

If he’s the only thing keeping Sanji’s demons away at night, so be it. He simply can’t afford to lose his nakama due to something as trivial as sleep deprivation.

But is nakama all Sanji is?

Zoro lets his body fully settle against Sanji’s. He’ll deal with that particular question later, when he isn’t chasing away Sanji’s nightmares.