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Chapter Text

Sanji’s brow furrowed hard as he swiped through his phone between his calendar, his bank account, and his work schedule. He was so lost in thought trying to make the math for this month’s bills work that he nearly missed his stop on the subway. In a rush he snatched up his bag and his coat and hopped off the train only a second before the doors slid shut behind him. The sun crested the horizon during his ride to work, washing the sky in the pale hues of dawn. 

His job working as a pastry chef started early and kept him busy until after lunchtime. He had a small window of time after work to go home and change clothes, then it was back out to work for his second job in the evenings as a line cook at a restaurant and bar. Though more often than not, Sanji was covering shifts for waiting tables and bartending. He spent more of his nights running around holding the place together than in the kitchen cooking, his true passion. 

Since he was young, he dreamed of starting his own restaurant, where he could cook whatever he wanted. But that dream died many years ago, when he was faced with the crushing reality of adulthood. He had bills to pay, and a wife that he could no longer seem to please. When they were young, he was hopeful. Naive. Sanji thought maybe, despite their arranged marriage, they could fall in love. At first, he thought he did love Pudding, and he thought she loved him. When did her love begin to fade? 

As the daughter of another high-profile family with millions to their name, Pudding must have expected their marriage to bring her the same level of wealth and comfort she was used to at home. However, Sanji never saw a cent of his family’s fortune. The black sheep, Sanji was an outcast from the rest of his family. His father wove all of Sanji’s siblings into his businesses, guaranteeing their stakes in his empire, but none of that was meant for him. Sanji was a mistake, his father made that clear. The only reason he cared about arranging a marriage for him was for public appearances, nothing else. Sanji’s marriage to Pudding only helped advance his father’s interests. 

For the whole morning, Sanji stewed on his wife’s mounting credit card debt, wondering where he would scrape up the money to make monthly payments that just kept growing. Pudding didn’t work–couldn’t, according to her mother. It was up to Sanji to keep their two-person household afloat, and he felt like he could barely keep his head above water any more. 

Despite her unemployment, Pudding spent little of her time at home. When Sanji came back to their one bedroom apartment from his morning shift to shower and change, she was absent. They used to talk on the phone and text each other in their early days together, but not any more. Sanji still did his best to communicate, letting her know about his comings and goings, but she rarely responded any more. The only proof of her existence in his life were her clothes in the closet, or the second toothbrush on the bathroom counter. 

Dinner for you in the fridge, dear. He texted Pudding as he rushed out the door to walk to his second job, not very far from home. Friday meant live music, which pushed Sanji’s mild headache from the morning into an exhausting, throbbing pain. Yet he kept on a bright smile. Again, one of the bartenders called out tonight, forcing Sanji to cover on the busiest night of the week. 

“Hey,” A deep voice and the sharp tap of knuckles on the wooden bartop to his left startled Sanji out of his trance as he washed and put away glasses during a brief lull in orders while most of the crowd focused on the live music. 

“How can I help you?” Sanji asked in his pleasant-yet-rehearsed customer service voice as he turned to see who was getting his attention so rudely. He was surprised to have to tilt his head up to look at him. Sanji knew he was fairly tall at six feet in dress shoes, so this guy had to be close to six feet three inches at least. He had broad shoulders to match the height, with massive muscles and a dark, intense gaze. But behind the hard exterior, Sanji could see in his face that he was still pretty young. 

“Kirin and sake, please.” The young man replied. He was wearing a dark colored beanie and a snug long-sleeve shirt that left little to the imagination. 

“Can I see your ID?” Sanji asked, raising an eyebrow. With a wordless grunt, the man pulled out his wallet and handed it over. Sanji’s gaze glossed over all of the personal information, just focusing on the birthday and the black-and-white photo. It was easy mental math–he was 23, ten years younger than Sanji. 

“Thank you,” Sanji handed the ID back with a smile. “Coming right up.” In a flash, he poured a tall glass of kirin and a shot of sake in front of the young man. Before Sanji could even ask whether he wanted to open a tab, or tell him how much the drinks were, the young man handed him cash, dropped the sake glass into his beer, and disappeared into the crowd.

“Hey, wait–” Sanji glanced down at the bills in his hand, counting quickly. “Oh!” The kid didn’t short him, like he feared–he paid double. He wasn’t really sure if the kid meant to leave him that much of a tip, so Sanji tucked the change underneath the register and made a mental note of it. However, by the end of the night the young man never turned back up at the bar, so Sanji considered it part of his tips for the night. 

He walked home with a spring in his step with a little more cash than usual in his pocket. He considered stopping for a quick bite to eat, but his guilt and anxiety about his mounting debt instantly flared up once again. Sanji shook his head and walked straight home, planning to cook something quick and simple for himself before bed. However, when he got home close to midnight there was still no sign of his wife. With a heavy heart, Sanji heated up Pudding’s uneaten dinner from the fridge and ate in silence before crawling into bed alone for the night. 

Day after day, week after week, Sanji’s grueling work schedule had been routine for over a year now. But Pudding wouldn’t listen, couldn’t change her ways, and their debt only grew, all of it in Sanji’s name. 

…

How long?

How long can I go on seeing him like this? 

He paced around the large, silent estate, thinking, thinking. The ache in his chest was too immense. He needed to intervene, to show him the truth somehow. His phone ringing startled him out of his intense thoughts.

“Hey. Got a job for me?” He answered after a quick glance at the caller ID. He listened to the caller’s lengthy monologue intently, a smirk creeping across his face. “...Sounds messy.” He chuckled. “No, I like messy. I’m in.” 

He grabbed his bag and packed the essentials: a gun, a medkit, a knife, and three katanas. 

Headed out. He texted his sister as he walked out onto the long gravel driveway where his motorcycle waited for him. 

Bye stinky. Her reply popped up while he snapped his phone into the mount on his handlebars. He snorted as he tugged his helmet on, then revved the engine and took off into the night. 

Chapter Text

Sanji awoke in another cold sweat, gasping for air. The same nightmare as always. He sat up and instinctively peered over to look for his wife, but the other half of the mattress remained cold and empty. He checked his phone, squinting at the bright screen that read three-o-something. Where is she? He wondered with a weight in his stomach. It had been weeks, maybe a month or more since she slept at home each night. He tried calling her, but the call rang until it went to voicemail. He hung up without leaving a message.

For the first time in months, Sanji called out of work. Just the morning shift–he was waiting to see how he felt about the night shift. He hardly slept at all last night, his thoughts spiraling over where his wife could be, what she might be up to. He was truthfully too scared to ask, or confront her. If their marriage ended… His father would probably be furious. Then Sanji would really be in trouble. Memories of his Father’s constant punishment from his childhood creeped back towards the surface, and the fear paralyzed him. He stayed in bed all morning, unable to rest yet unable to get up. 

By early afternoon he managed to peel himself off of the mattress and drag himself into the bathroom. A long shower soothed him much more than he had hoped, so he decided to get dressed for his evening shift at the restaurant, praying for a slow night. On weeknights like this, he was more likely to actually be in the kitchen. He smoked while he walked to work and cooking consumed his thoughts, pushing the stormcloud of his worries to the back of his mind. 

Blessedly, he got what he wished for. It was a slow night, with Sanji as the most senior cook in the kitchen with a few younger coworkers keeping him company that night. He was even able to step out back for a few smoke breaks, a rare treat during the middle of a shift.

“Uhh, Sanji? The waitress just brought back a ticket that says chef’s special. I told her there’s no special on the menu here but she said you’d know what it means.” One of the other cooks told him as he returned to the kitchen. 

“Chef’s special?” Sanji gasped, then grinned as he read the ticket. “Yeah, lately I guess there’s been this regular…” He explained, eagerly picking out some ingredients to start chopping. “He never picks something on the menu, he just says he’ll eat whatever the chef feels like making. That’s what I’ve been told, anyway, from the servers who have helped him. But the guy has no dietary restrictions, so I use it as an excuse to make whatever I feel like making to try out new recipe ideas.” 

“I’d make him the easiest thing on the menu.” The other cook chimed in with a laugh. “A burger or something.”

“That’s one way of looking at it.” Sanji mused while he worked. “I like to make something special, for someone who’s willing to put their tastebuds in my hands.” 

His coworkers laughed and teased him a bit, calling him cheesy, but Sanji wasn’t bothered in the slightest. He was the most excited when he got to cook like this, creating new dishes of his own from the limited ingredients available in the restaurant’s kitchen. Beaming with pride, he served a plate of stir fried noodles mixed with plenty of colorful vegetables and chicken for protein. It looked delicious, and Sanji knew it would taste delicious. 

Later came the best part, Sanji’s secret thrill. The dishes would eventually come back to the kitchen, and the chef’s special plate was always empty, every bite devoured. These were the shifts Sanji cherished amid his hectic schedule. 

…

Fifteen minutes and several cigarettes later, Sanji finally stepped back inside to continue his shift after he stepped out to answer an out-of-the-blue phone call from Pudding. He thought it must have been something urgent for her to call him all of a sudden. 

Her credit card had been declined. She maxed it out–and this was the third credit card she had opened. He didn’t know where she was, or what she was trying to spend it on. He only knew that she was furious because he was failing to provide for her needs as her husband. 

Sanji felt numb as he stepped back behind the bar to continue serving drinks. He worked on autopilot and muscle memory as his mind dissociated elsewhere, back to the days that his wife still loved him. What happened to them? Was there anything he could do to bring that spark back? To turn things around?

“Hey.”

Sanji jumped, startled by the deep voice right in front of him. Somehow he hadn’t even noticed this new customer sit down at the bar. The man sitting across from him smiled, and somehow he looked familiar. At first, he couldn’t place it, until the man spoke again.

“You look like you could use a drink.” The young man chuckled. It’s the kirin and sake guy! Sanji realized. Last time he came into the bar he was wearing something casual. Today, he was dressed in a dark, expensive looking suit with more than one thick gold ring on his fingers. And his short cropped hair was green, making him look much like a…

A laugh burst out of him before he could stop it. “You look like a moss ball!” Sanji blurted out between laughter. He shook his head, taking a few deep breaths to try to compose himself.

The young man’s smile warmed Sanji like the sun, making his chest grow tight with a strange feeling that he couldn’t name. “Do ya like it?” He asked with a laugh, rubbing his head. 

“You look ridiculous.” Sanji replied, still chuckling a little. “Why is it green?”

“Because green is my favorite color. I meant it, you look like you could use a drink.”

“Pfft, yeah I wish. Employees certainly don’t drink for free.” Sanji said.

“Well, what if I buy you a drink?” The stranger asked. 

“Excuse me?” Sanji laughed. 

“If I buy you a drink, are you at least allowed to drink it?” 

After a beat of contemplation, Sanji shrugged. “Fuck it. If you’re buying then sure, I’m drinking.”

“Pour yourself whatever you want, then. I’ll take a kirin and sake.” 

“ID.” Sanji held out his hand.

“What??” The young man laughed. “You know I’m old enough.” 

“Sorry, it’s policy.” Sanji shrugged, glancing over towards the security camera that monitored the bar. “You look young.”

“No I don’t.” He scoffed as he handed his ID over, looking somewhat flustered. 

“Yes you do. It’s in the face, you just can’t see it.” Sanji retorted and barely glanced at the ID before handing it back since he still remembered his age. Twenty-three. He poured the customer’s drinks first, then contemplated for a moment on what he wanted to drink. In the end, he decided to just pour himself a shot of the same sake he poured for the young man, who hadn’t even dropped the sake shot into his beer yet. “Oh sorry, you really didn’t have to wait on me.”

“I wanted to.” The young man smiled and lifted his shot glass towards Sanji’s. “Since we’re sharing a drink together, can I ask your name?” 

“My name is Sanji.”

“I’m Zoro.” They clinked their shot glasses together, then the younger man dropped his shot into his beer and drank while the older man swallowed his shot in one smooth gulp. As Sanji finished his shot he noticed the young man–Zoro–staring at him over the rim of his beer glass.

“Thanks for the drink.” Sanji smiled. “Did you want to open a tab or just pay for these?” 

“Just these, unless you want another.” Zoro smirked.

“Generous, but no thanks. I have the rest of my shift to get through.” Sanji declined. Nodding, the young man took out his wallet and set cash on the counter just like last time. “Oh, that reminds me, did you mean to leave that tip last time?” Sanji asked, thumbing through the bills. He overpaid by a wide margin again. 

“Of course I meant to.” Amusement glittered in his deep, dark eyes. “I don’t make mistakes.”

Sanji snorted. “You just think that because you’re still young.” He replied somewhat cynically. He tucked the young man’s cash into the register and pocketed the generous tip with a flicker of a smile that he kept to himself. 

“Mmm, yeah I made a few big mistakes when I was younger…” Zoro’s gaze trailed off to the side as his face grew somber and his mind seemed to drift elsewhere. “I don’t make mistakes any more.” He said firmly, his eyes flickering back to meet Sanji’s gaze. The steely determination in his penetrating stare made Sanji shiver. Something about this young man reminded him of himself when he was young, still living under his father’s roof and fighting to survive each miserable day. 

“Why are you sitting here wasting your time and money on an old man like me, anyway? You should be out at some bar with kids your age, enjoying yourself.” Sanji crossed his arms. 

“I’m enjoying myself right here.” Zoro responded without a beat of hesitation. “I’m not a kid, and you’re not old, you look–”

“Sanji!” One of the waitresses called from the other side of the bar, drawing his attention away. “I need two martinis and a chardonnay.”

“Coming right up!” He called over cheerfully. “Sorry, talk later.” Sanji said to Zoro before he turned his back and got back to work. A small rush kept Sanji busy for some time, and by the time things slowed down again it was almost closing time, and Zoro’s seat sat empty. On the bar top, a flash of white caught his eye. A folded piece of paper sat tucked halfway under the young man’s empty beer glass. Sanji unfolded it, his curiosity piqued. 

A phone number? He stared at the note, confused. There was no message, only a string of digits. Why on earth would he leave Sanji his number? What a weird kid. Sanji tsked and crumpled the note before he tossed it in the trash bin and turned his attention to cleaning up and shutting down the bar as the night wound down.

Chapter Text

“Father expects you to attend the gala with Pudding.” The steady, even tone of his sister’s voice drifted from his phone speaker on the counter. Sanji listened while he cooked himself dinner at home. 

“Does Pudding know that?” Sanji huffed. “She hardly speaks to me any more.” 

“As far as I’m aware, her mother and several of her siblings will be in attendance. I think she knows.” 

“Ugh. You know I don’t want to go.” Sanji whined. 

“I know.” His sister was silent for a beat. “But you know how father is.”

“I know, I know. I’ll be there, but please let me know as soon as you think I can leave.”

“Of course. Love you.”

“Love you, bye.”

…

Sanji dressed in one of his favorite suits, a beautiful dark blue, in the hopes it might lift his spirits just a little. He arrived at the last possible minute that he felt was safe–still a little early to avoid pissing off his father while minimizing the amount of time he had to spend in his family home, where dark childhood memories haunted the halls. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Pudding lingering near her family. She was wearing a beautiful blush pink dress that didn’t match his outfit at all, and she expressed as much when he came up to greet her.

She stiffly reciprocated his hug, and when he tried to kiss her she swiftly turned her face to the side so his lips barely brushed her cheek. “Don’t embarrass me tonight, Sanji.” She said coldly, then turned her back on him to recede into the safety net of the tightly-knit Charlotte clan. His heart ached, and yet he also felt hollow, disconnected from himself as he walked away from his wife. 

Sanji needed a minute alone. He needed a cigarette. He knew that someone had surely alerted his father of his arrival the moment he stepped through the front door, and his attendance was all that really mattered. He wouldn’t be missed if he stepped out. He made his way out to the backyard terrace and settled on a cold stone bench that overlooked the perfectly manicured landscape to light up a smoke. 

He smoked slowly, his head swimming pleasantly as his brain disconnected. He couldn’t think, didn’t want to. Every single wall of his life that surrounded him felt like they were all about to come crumbling down, and it was becoming too much to face. 

The scuffle of footsteps on the stone pavers nearby jolted Sanji out of his trance. His body went rigid and his heart leapt into his throat–he had to assume one of his brothers had come to accost him. The Vinsmoke estate was needlessly vast, there was surely no way a guest from the gala could have found their way back here. Sanji whipped his head around to see who was coming, and it was someone tall. 

“Ah, sorry to intrude.” The man cleared his throat. A deep-voiced stranger. The tension slowly eased out of his frame as he realized it was just some guest, to his surprise. 

“Uh, can I help you?” Sanji asked as he smoked. The stranger’s unusual dark green suit caught the moonlight, and he noticed the man was also wearing a black surgical mask over the lower half of his face. In the moonlight, he couldn’t make out the color of his hair but it looked dark, slicked back with shiny hair gel. 

“I guess I got turned around looking for the bathroom. It’s a big house.” The stranger appeared to smile behind the mask, and the twinkle in his dark eyes struck Sanji as familiar, but he couldn’t place it. “My apologies for interrupting your escape from the crowd.” The man murmured, shrewdly guessing exactly what Sanji was doing out here. 

“It’s not a problem.” Sanji shook his head and stood. “If you don’t mind waiting for me to finish smoking I can lead you back to the gala.”

“I don’t mind at all.” The stranger kept a bit of distance between them, and Sanji assumed it was simply to avoid the cigarette smoke. “That’s a really nice suit.” The man remarked.

“Oh, thank you.” Sanji glanced down at himself and couldn’t help but smile since it was one of his favorites. 

“Excuse me for being so direct, but you’re gorgeous.” The stranger’s deep voice murmured as he eyed Sanji from a respectful distance. It was difficult to read the man’s face in the dark, seeing only his eyes, but Sanji almost felt like a feast on a platter under the stranger’s gaze.

“O-Oh!” Sanji felt himself blushing bright red. “Um, th-thank you again. I am married, though.” He mumbled and quickly returned to his cigarette to keep his mouth busy so he didn’t say anything stupid while he felt so flustered in front of this stranger. Why did a simple compliment make him feel so shy and giddy? From a man, no less? 

“I understand.” The stranger bowed his head slightly. “Your partner is very, very lucky to have you. I hope they know that.”

“Thank you.” Sanji murmured again, smiling shyly. “That's very kind of you.” 

“Of course.” The stranger appeared to smile behind his mask. “What are they like?”

“Who?” Sanji tilted his head. 

“Your partner. Did they not want to accompany you tonight?” The stranger inquired. 

“Oh, she…” Sanji faltered, finding himself at a loss for what to say about his own wife. “She’s here. She’s just, ah, more of a social butterfly than me.” He lied. The stranger hummed in response, quietly eyeing Sanji up and down in a way that almost made him want to squirm. 

“I see. Well, I’m glad I could offer some company.” He said as Sanji put his cigarette out. “Thank you for talking with me.”

“Sure,” Sanji nodded as he stood. “Follow me, I’ll lead you back to the gala.” He waved a hand for the man to follow and took the lead. The stranger thanked him and followed quietly.

Sanji walked through the lonely echoing halls with the tall stranger just a few steps behind him. As they neared the wing of the house containing the ballroom where the gala was hosted they started to run into other guests, several of which recognized Sanji and murmured a stiff, nervous greeting. He cringed and kept walking, hating the fear he recognized in their eyes. These people only knew Sanji’s brothers, but they lumped him in with them in their minds all the same. He knew all too well how cruelly his brothers treated others. When Sanji shot a glance back to gauge the stranger’s reaction, however, the man had vanished. 

The stranger stuck out in Sanji’s mind for the rest of the evening. His outfit was so unusual, but still clearly expensive and well-tailored. Any guest of the Vinsmokes had to have money. If you weren’t rich and powerful, you might as well not even exist to someone like his father, Judge Vinsmoke. Whoever the tall stranger was, he sort of seemed like trouble. Like the type of guy who always carried a weapon, or something, despite the deceptively relaxed demeanor. What if he was a spy for father? He briefly wondered, but he had to shake off that paranoia. 

Sanji lingered at the gala a while longer, watching guests on the dancefloor wistfully. Once, Pudding used to dance with him, but not any more. He missed it, and wished he could have just one dance. But asking any other woman to dance was out of the question. That would certainly be grounds to upset Pudding, and in turn anger his father. When his sister silently materialized from the crowd at his side, Sanji breathed a sigh of relief he didn’t even realize he had been holding in all night. 

“You’re safe to leave now.” She murmured.

“Thanks, Reiju.” Sanji whispered. They exchanged a brief hug, then his older sister waved him off. 

Sanji walked at a brisk pace until he made it outside and broke into a near-run to his car parked on the far side of the house. He knew what father would say. Sanji’s old piece of shit car would embarrass him, and he wanted none of the guests to see something like that at his estate. Sanji took the narrow one-lane drive out the back exit of his father’s property and drove straight home. He collapsed on the couch alone in his apartment and fell asleep on an empty stomach, he was so drained from the stress of the night. 

…

The banks called daily now, hounding him about maxed out credit and underpayments. Barely holding on by a thread, Sanji had no choice but to go back on a promise he made himself a long time ago. He swore to himself he’d bury this secret for good nearly a decade ago, but at this point, he felt truly desperate, with no other options in a terrible job market. He knew that Pudding was away on a cruise with her sisters. There was no better time than now. 

While he smoked a cigarette on his tiny apartment patio, he scrolled through his phone contacts to the name Ivan. For a few moments his thumb hovered over the screen, hesitating before he finally pressed call. 

“... Hey Iva. Yeah, it’s me.” 

Sanji only shaved his face. He doubled up on nude tights and subtle white fishnet stockings to cover up his hairy legs, and picked out a floor-length long-sleeved dress from Pudding’s wardrobe that she never wore because it was too long for her. The neckline was wide and low, a beautiful, sultry look that worked to conceal his armpit hair under the sleeves. A long slit split the side of the skirt over halfway up the thigh, revealing a scandalous amount of his long legs. It had been so long since he did his makeup, he started early and wiped everything off more than once before he was satisfied with the result. In the dressing room in the back of the club, Sanji admired himself in the mirror, recognizing a part of himself he had long since forgotten. 

“Candy!” Iva squealed and ran over to hug Sanji the second she spotted him. “You look absolutely gorgeous, my love, gorgeous. What’s this, a wig?” She gave Sanji’s long, curly blond locks a little tug.

“Hey!” Sanji gently swatted her hand away with a laugh. “No… I actually grew my hair out, after all these years.” He explained, beaming with pride. He loved his hair, which he got from his mother. The rest of his siblings inherited their father’s straight hair. 

Iva wished him the best for the show tonight before she had to hurry off to make sure the other queens were ready to go. Before he knew it, it was showtime, and Sanji became Candy once more. The night was a blur of thumping music, smiling faces, and flowing liquor. Here, he could drink on the job, he mused with a smile as he shared another round of shots with a group of delightfully rowdy young ladies who showered him in compliments. 

For the first time in ages, Pudding was the last thing on his mind, and Sanji was happy. The drag queens and club-goers alike danced and sang late into the night until last call at nearly two in the morning. He hadn’t planned on getting this drunk, but through his hazy memories of the evening, something nagged at him. Once or twice, he could have sworn he spotted a tall head of green hair across the room, but he was never quite sure of what he saw, in the dark colorful club lights. It could have been anyone, he told himself. 

At the end of the night when Sanji sat at home counting his tips, marveling at how much he made, he froze when he came upon several large bills folded in half around a small white piece of paper. In neat handwriting, it had a phone number and a brief message.

You never called. 

Sanji wracked his brain, but he was still pretty drunk. He couldn’t remember any customer handing him an amount of money this large. It couldn’t be… Could it? That kid from the bar… Zoro? The note looked about the same as the last one. Sanji set it to the side with the rest of the bills to finish counting his tips. For a single night’s work at Iva’s club, he made more money than a full shift at both of his day jobs. Sanji cleaned up and went to bed dwelling on money and forgot about the phone number he set aside. 

…

Sanji finally realized something was going on when he saw a familiar flash of green hair walking into the bakery during his morning shift. He stepped away from the pastries he was working on to walk up  behind the front counter. 

“Zoro? What are you doing here?” Sanji raised his eyebrow. The young man smiled and half-shrugged. 

“I thought I smelled something tasty while I was walking by, so I came in to check it out.” Zoro winked, and Sanji was startled at himself when he felt his cheeks flush with heat. He quickly composed himself and eyed the young man up and down with a frown. 

“You do recognize it looks weird to show up at two different places that I work when we don’t even know each other, right?. You’re not some kind of stalker, are you?” Sanji snarked. He didn’t feel seriously threatened by this guy, just confused. At this point it couldn’t be a coincidence that they kept running into each other, but Sanji didn’t understand why.

“I’m not a stalker.” Zoro chuckled and leaned forward against the front of the display case, bringing himself a bit closer to Sanji. The way he looked down at Sanji, his deep dark eyes focused so intently on him and nothing else as they spoke… He realized with a jolt that Zoro was still talking, and he hadn’t been listening.

“S-sorry, what was that?” Sanji stuttered. He could feel his coworker shooting him strange looks out of the corner of his eye. Zoro looked somewhat amused, like he could see the way his presence flustered Sanji for some reason. 

“I said it’s not very accurate to call us strangers, we know each other’s names. That makes us at least acquaintances, doesn’t it?” The young man nodded towards the menu board hanging above their heads. “What’s your favorite thing on the menu? Whatever it is, I’ll take one.” 

“Oh!” Sanji was pleasantly surprised by the question, and without hesitation he pointed out the one pastry in the case that was specifically his creation, that the owners allowed to test out on the menu for a week or two. “It has a lemon glaze and a blueberry whipped cream filling.” He explained eagerly. 

“Sounds great.” Zoro smiled. He paid in cash here, too, like he did at the bar. When Sanji tried to hand him his change, the young man waved it away and eagerly lifted the glazed flaky pastry to his mouth to take a huge bite. Sanji froze in place, unable to tear his gaze away as he watched for Zoro’s reaction to the food that he made.

“Mmm,” Zoro wiped a glob of whipped cream from the corner of his mouth with his thumb and licked it off, an action that made Sanji quickly turn his gaze away for a moment, like he’d seen something he wasn’t meant to see. “Damn, that’s really good. I usually don’t really like sweets.” He remarked before going in for another bite. 

Sanji offered the young man a napkin and noticed a slight tremor in his hand when he did. What the hell is going on with me? 

“Thanks, Sanji. Maybe we’ll talk later.” Zoro flashed a handsome smile and a wave, then stepped out the front door of the bakery. The moment he disappeared, Sanji almost felt like the bright vividness of the world around him dulled slightly. 

“Psst, Sanji, who was that guy?? He’s so hot!” His female coworker, a part-timer even younger than Zoro, pestered him for gossip.

“Just a customer.” Sanji shrugged her off, avoiding eye contact as he got back to work prepping pastries in the back. “I don’t know the guy.”

“Really? It seemed like you two might be close.” He heard her say as she drifted out of his earshot. They seemed close? How? In that moment, he realized, no one had ever said as much about himself and Pudding. Thinking about her manifested a sinking feeling in his stomach. No, we were never very close at all, were we?

Chapter Text

The phone rang, and rang, and rang. Sanji sat there waiting, nervously bouncing one leg. Again, it went to voicemail. He hung up and glared at the phone screen as his eyes burned with tears. Today was their thirteenth wedding anniversary. He thought that maybe, just maybe, she would come home to see him. At the very least, for appearances sake, right? But a half dozen missed calls later, it was well past dinner time and Sanji could not reach his wife. The rain pelting the windows outside felt like it was mocking the tears that silently welled up and spilled down his face. Sanji slowly and mechanically packed up the dinner he’d prepared for the two of them into leftovers to store in the fridge. Just as he was resigning himself to another silent night alone in the apartment, his phone started to ring. He fumbled and nearly dropped it in his rush to pull it out of his pocket to see who was calling.

“Pudding!” He answered right away with a gasp. But nobody answered him clearly. He could hear noises in the background, then voices, like it was a pocket call. “Pudding? Hello? Hello?” Sanji pressed the phone closer to his ear, straining to listen. He couldn’t make out everyone’s voices clearly, or who they were, but he certainly recognized his wife’s voice with ease.

“I swear, I should just turn my fucking phone off if he tries calling again.” Sanji’s breath caught in his throat and he froze up, holding perfectly still as he listened to his wife’s voice go on to call Sanji stupid, pathetic, and worthless. He was past his prime, she complained, and she regretted agreeing to their marriage in the first place.

Sanji’s blood ran cold and he hung up before he could hear another word. Mindlessly, he shoved his phone into his back pocket and sprang into action. Still dressed in the maroon and black suit intended for their anniversary dinner, he ran out the door with just his keys, wallet, and phone. Sanji didn’t know where he was going, he just got into his car and started driving. The music on the radio was meaningless background noise compared to the cacophony in his head. 

…

Zoro pulled his attention away from the binoculars in his hand to check his buzzing phone. “Well?” He answered with a whisper.

“Got it all taken care of, boss!” The familiar male voice reported. “For some reason it wasn’t letting me remotely accept the incoming calls, but I decided to try calling back through her phone instead, and that worked! He answered and the call connected smoothly. I’m not sure how much he heard, but the audio seemed clear enough to me.”

“Perfect. Great job, Usopp.” He grinned and raised the binoculars to his eyes again as he ended the call. His focus returned where he left off, spying from afar on the members of the Charlotte family attending a dinner party. It was for some phony charity event, nothing that mattered to Zoro. His plans were already falling neatly into place, and his targets were none the wiser. 

Soon, he could help Sanji start the healing. Zoro vowed to do anything to help wash away all of the pain and suffering inflicted by the manipulative harpy he glared at through his binoculars. Charlotte Priscilla, more widely known as Pudding. 

…

Have you seen the news? His sister Reiju texted him. 

I don’t know, what news? Sanji responded.

Two of the oldest Charlotte sons were recently arrested for running drugs. She replied. 

Sanji’s jaw nearly dropped when he read the message. He couldn’t believe it. The Charlotte family was similar to the Vinsmokes in their rigid adherence to a spotless public behavior and image. The matriarch of the huge Charlotte family kept her children in line almost as strictly as the Vinsmokes, Sanji had heard. 

How is father taking it? He asked, already anticipating the answer.

He’s furious. Charlotte’s company stocks already dipped noticeably since the headlines started circulating.

Sanji laid his phone back down on the bar top in front of him. What did this mean for him? He couldn’t begin to imagine the fallout of the recently-formed alliance between Vinsmoke and Charlotte turning south. And here he sat, trapped in the middle of two of the wealthiest and most powerful families on the planet with no control over his fate. 

The reject of the Vinsmoke family buried his face in his arms and sobbed with his head down on the bar counter for a few minutes until he was able to compose himself enough to order another drink. After driving in circles around town for several hours, Sanji wound up pulling over at a random bar with an empty parking lot. There he sat, one of only a few other lonely patrons occupying the business that night. 

Without any prying eyes to judge him, Sanji ordered shots of liquor one by one until he felt the drunkest he had ever been. The bartender actually cut him off around midnight. Sanji couldn’t remember how many shots he had, but when the high number on the bill swam in front of his eyes he fished into his wallet for the cash he still had from the drag show. As he pulled out the folded bundle of large bills, the folded white note fell out on the counter in front of him. After he carried himself very unsteadily out of the bar, he had to close one eye to focus on the little piece of paper in his hand, he was so drunk. 

“Hello?” The rumble of the deep familiar voice in his ear made him let out an involuntary sob of relief as his emotions suddenly began to overflow. 

“Z-Zoro? It’s Sanji,” His voice cracked as it came out.

“Sanji? Where are you? What happened?” The young man sounded urgent, almost angry, causing Sanji to flinch.

“I’m–” He let out a hiccup of a sob. “I’m drunk, and I th-think Pudding i-is… is cheating on me–”

“Where are you, Sanji? A bar?” Zoro repeated slowly, more calmly. Rolling gray clouds blanketed the stars above, and it smelled like rain.

“I don’t know, fuck. I’m sorry, I feel so stupid.” Sanji spoke between broken sobs. “Th-the sign says The Sand Bar.” He let out a humorless laugh at the stupid name he hadn’t even noticed on the way in. 

“Okay, I’m coming to get you right now.” Zoro reassured him. Sanji felt so pathetic, calling on the help of someone so much younger than him, so much less experienced with the world. 

“I didn’t know who else to call.” Sanji drunkenly admitted.

“Thank you,” Zoro said earnestly. “For finally calling.” 

“Your note, the second note…” Sanji huddled closer to the front of the bar, tucking himself under the narrow overhang of the roof as much as he could when raindrops started to sprinkle down on him. “How? When did you…?”

“Hah, you don’t remember seeing me? You did seem pretty drunk, Candy.” Zoro’s voice was almost a purr, he sounded so damn pleased with himself. 

Sanji felt his entire face blazing red with embarrassment as he tried and failed to wrack his brain to remember the details from that night. “Oh my god, Zoro. Oh my god! Why the hell did you tip me so much?? Did you– Did I–?”

“No, nothing happened. I just wanted to give everything I had to the most gorgeous doll I saw that night.” 

Sanji stammered uselessly, words failing him. Despite the rain and a cold wind picking up, his whole body felt flushed with heat. “Why do you make me feel like this?” He accidentally blurted an inside thought out loud, then cringed as soon as he realized his mistake. The loud rumble of a sportscar approaching tore Sanji’s attention away to a lime green vehicle that just rolled into the parking lot. The little two-door sportscar pulled up right in front of him as the call with Zoro ended and the man stepped out of the absurdly bright and loud car to open the passenger door for Sanji under the pouring rain.

“Get in!” Zoro had to raise his voice over the din of the storm, the roaring engine, and the slow roll of thunder above. He placed a large hand on top of Sanji’s head to guide him into his seat without bumping his head on the car’s low roof, then closed the door for him before he jumped back into the driver’s seat. Both of them were drenched, and Sanji was somewhat grateful for the rain to hide all of the tears he shed. 

Zoro sat there looking at him for a few moments long enough to unnerve him.

“Sorry I’m a mess.” Sanji’s voice came out weakly. 

“A mess?” Zoro frowned and leaned in close to reach across him and buckle his seatbelt for him. “You look beautiful.” He said softly. His hand drifted to Sanji’s chest to drag a finger down the front of his dark red suit jacket before he withdrew back out of Sanji’s space to buckle his own seatbelt and tap in an address on the phone mounted on his dashboard.

“What are you doing??” Sanji blurted out, genuinely mystified. “Are you trying to make fun of me? I’m way too old for you.” He crossed his arms over his chest, angling his body slightly away from Zoro’s as the young man guided his car out of the parking lot into the empty nighttime streets.

“What? I’m not joking, I’m being serious. Why would I come and pick you up in the middle of the night?” Zoro’s question hung in the air, making Sanji’s skin prickle with awkward tension. “You’re not even old.” He finally mumbled to break the silence. 

“I’m past my prime.” Pudding’s own words echoed hollowly from Sanji’s lips. “I’ll never be as beautiful as I once was.”

“Oh shut the fuck up, I’m tired of watching you treat yourself like this.” Zoro snapped, startling Sanji out of his spiraling self-deprecating thoughts. “Fuck, I missed a turn.” He muttered under his breath.

“I should kick your ass for talking to me that way, you fucking brat.” Sanji warned, simmering in anger and a strange fuzzy feeling in his stomach. 

“Ha! I’d like to see you try.” Zoro laughed and caught Sanji’s hand before he could unbuckle his seatbelt, without even taking his eyes off the road. “Stop it, not while I’m driving.” He chastised Sanji, almost like he was the adult and Sanji was the child. 

Sanji stubbornly yanked his wrist away with a sniffle and glared out the window, wishing he could just ignore the annoying young man. Zoro kept catching him off guard, making him feel things he had never felt before that sort of scared him. For a while, they raced through the dark city streets in silence. Not even the radio provided relief from the palpable tension Sanji felt growing between them. It felt like it took him ages to muster the courage to finally say something and break the silence by bringing up the thing he couldn’t get out of his mind.

“So, uh… If you were at that drag show, then you must be gay… right?” He asked slowly, cautiously. 

“You finally figured it out, huh?” Zoro chuckled as the car slowed and he turned the wheel to pull up to a gated driveway. He rolled his window down and reached out into the rain for a moment to enter a code into a pin pad before the gate slowly rolled open for them. It reminded Sanji of the Vinsmoke estate, making him uneasy.

“Hey, where are we?” Sanji asked, leaning forward in his seat to peer out the windshield. 

“My place.” Zoro replied as they rolled into a multi-car garage in front of an impressive estate. Despite the dark and somewhat spooky exterior, it did feel more inviting than the Vinsmoke estate. Sanji’s door remained locked until Zoro parked the car and got out to open it for Sanji himself. 

“You’re way too young to afford a place like this. Who the hell are your parents?” Sanji whispered as Zoro led him through the garage and into the house. 

“I’m not sure if my sister is home, but if we see her just ignore her, she’s weird.” Zoro warned, ignoring Sanji’s question as he led the way through the eclectically decorated home. 

“Your sister?” Sanji echoed. “What is she, sixteen?” He wondered as they climbed up several flights of stairs. 

“No, she’s–oh fuck!” Zoro cursed. When they rounded the corner of a hallway on the third landing, they nearly ran right into a tall woman with pink hair and big doll-like eyes that Sanji recognized in a heartbeat.

“Perona?!” Sanji squeaked.

“You know her??” Zoro looked back at Sanji, dumbfounded.

“Oh my god, I-I’m a really big fan! I can’t believe this is happening, I can’t believe I’m drunk now of all times–fuck, don’t look at me.” Sanji buried his face in his hands and spun to turn his back on them.

“Aw, did you forget to tell your date that your big sister is a famous supermodel? Woopsie!” Perona giggled and slipped past them down the stairs, leaving Sanji stuck speechless behind a flustered, frustrated Zoro.

“I didn’t expect you to know who she was, goddamn.” Zoro muttered and took hold of Sanji’s wrist to continue leading him down the hallway into a large cozy bedroom with a fireplace and a massive, soft looking bed. He followed in a daze, still struggling to believe what just happened. 

“Your sister is Perona? The Perona? What the fuck is happening? Who are you?” Zoro pulled out a pair of dry underwear, a shirt, and sweatpants and handed them to Sanji. 

“Come on. You should get out of your wet clothes before you catch a cold.” Zoro gently shepherded him through another door into a bathroom and shut it behind him to give him privacy. 

His movements were slow and clumsy as he worked his way out of the layers of his suit. You look beautiful. Zoro’s low voice rumbled inside his head, sending a shiver down his spine. Once he was dressed in the dry, baggy change of clothes he eyed himself in the mirror and winced. His hair was a damp curly mess, and his eyes were red and puffy from crying. He looked like a mess. However, seeing himself in Zoro’s oversized clothes sent a little thrill through him that he didn't understand. 

When he finished up and stepped out of the bathroom, Zoro wasn’t there any more. But it was late, and the big empty bed in the middle of the room was calling his name. Sanji dropped into the downy mattress like a sack of potatoes and groaned with relief as he curled into the blankets. He let his heavy eyelids fall shut and passed out fast. 

Chapter Text

“Sanji?” Zoro whispered through the darkness as he tip-toed back into his bedroom. He stopped and stared, a smile creeping across his face at the sight of the man, the object of his utmost desires, asleep in his bed. He gently brushed Sanji’s hair from his face, then spread a blanket out on the floor for himself and fell asleep. Yes, the bed was plenty big enough for the two of them, but Zoro didn’t want to scare him off.

Zoro woke up some time in the early hours of the morning to the sounds of coughing and vomiting echoing from his bathroom. He got up and wordlessly walked in to Sanji hunched over the toilet bowl. He gently gathered all of Sanji’s hair back from his face and held it in one fist. Zoro patted his back and stood over him, waiting until it seemed like he finally got everything out of his system.

“I’ll go get you some water, okay? Be right back.” Zoro hurried down to the kitchen and back, where he found Sanji still sitting on the bathroom floor with his knees drawn to his chest. “Here.” Zoro handed him the glass and silently watched him drink about half before he took the glass back and offered a hand to help him up off the floor.

“I’m sorry for all this.” Sanji mumbled as he avoided eye contact, his voice ragged and gravelly thanks to the abuse on his  throat. 

“Don’t be sorry.” Zoro shook his head. “Do you want to lay back down?” 

Sanji rubbed his arm uncomfortably, glancing around like he was looking for something. “What time is it? I should get back home and get out of your way.” 

“You’ll never be in my way.” Zoro corrected him. “It’s barely sunrise yet, Sanji, just get some more rest.” He insisted as he laid back down on the floor. Sanji stopped and stood there staring at Zoro as realization slowly dawned on his face.

“Oh my god, was I sleeping in your bed??” Sanji’s face turned bright red. “I-I’m so sorry, I was so tired and I didn’t even think–I just laid down and,”

“Stop. Apologizing.” Zoro spoke slowly, deliberately. He stayed where he was on the floor, watching the poor, guilt-ridden man closely. “I don’t care. If you asked, I would sleep on the floor each night for the rest of my life.”

He watched Sanji hesitate before he finally crawled back into bed in order to hide his blushing face from Zoro’s watchful eye. With a smile, he let his eyes drift shut once more.

…

Sanji still didn’t sleep in much. He nudged Zoro awake only a few hours later asking him for a ride home so he would get to work on time. He grumbled tiredly, still waking up and trying to process what was happening. Oh, right. Sanji slept in his bed last night. His eyelids finally popped open to meet Sanji’s eyes, beautiful and blue as the ocean. Zoro only ever saw him with his hair covering one eye, so seeing his full face like this felt like a first. “Damn, you’re pretty.” He mumbled. Sanji’s cheeks immediately turned red and he stood up straight to kick Zoro’s side with a bit of force. 

“Quit playing around. Seriously, I need to go.” Sanji insisted. Zoro slowly sat up and stretched, grumbling tiredly in the process. He noticed the man had changed out of the clothes Zoro lent him, back into the damp suit from last night.

“What are you doing, isn’t that uncomfortable? You should just wear those dry clothes home.” 

“I didn’t want to take your clothes from you…” Sanji mumbled. Zoro finally got to his feet and stretched his neck, audibly popping his joints. 

“I wish you would learn to put yourself first for once.” Zoro muttered, shaking his head as he scooped up his car keys. “Whatever, let’s go.” He could feel Sanji watching him as he led him back through the house to the garage. Again, he opened the passenger door for Sanji and guided his head into the car. The older man swatted his hand away, but Zoro didn’t mind. Maybe Sanji couldn’t accept someone else’s help and care, but that wouldn’t stop him from offering everything that he had to the man.

After a few minutes of driving, Sanji spoke up. “Wait, I never gave you my address. Where are we going?” Zoro flinched inwardly. Shit, I forgot. 

“Oh, right, here.” He swiveled his phone mount towards Sanji with the map open for him to enter his address. He didn’t need to know that Zoro didn’t need it because he already knew exactly where he lived. Once Sanji typed it in, Zoro quietly followed the route on the screen, mentally chastising himself for forgetting to be more careful. 

“Thanks again.” Sanji mumbled as they pulled into his apartment complex. 

“Any time.” Zoro answered sincerely. He shifted the car into park and started to unbuckle his seatbelt, but Sanji was already halfway out of the car. “Wait, Sanji–” 

“Sorry–I shouldn’t have dragged you into my messy life. Bye.” Sanji spoke in a hurry before he shut the car door behind him and hurried away from the car. Zoro heaved a sigh and watched the older man walk briskly across the parking lot and up the stairs to his unit. Once he was out of sight Zoro finally drove away. Right away, he called Franky.

“Howdy, Zoro!” His always-optimistic voice came through the car’s speakers. 

“Hey man. Any updates from Robin?” 

“Yeah, actually! You called at the perfect time. She has the photos now.”

“Perfect. I’ll let you know when to send them. Great job, Franky.”

“No problem, boss!”

“Gotta go, bye.” Zoro hung up and pressed the accelerator to the floor with a thrill. His sportscar flew down the highway like it weighed nothing, speeding him across town to his next destination.

…

Ring… Ring… Ring… Ring… 

Voicemail again. Sanji cursed and took another drag of his cigarette. He was smoking in the apartment now, since his wife was never around to tell him not to. 

“Pudding, it’s me. We really need to talk. Call me back…” He hesitated. “I’m not angry. I want to work things out. Please call me. Love you, bye.” Sanji flopped his head back onto the couch and groaned once he finished leaving a message. What was he doing? He was still so spineless, he couldn’t even stand up for himself against his wife. He just wanted to make her happy, for once. Sanji just wanted to keep the peace.

More than a week went by without Zoro visiting him at work. When Sanji realized he was actually keeping an eye out, hoping to see that mossy head of hair, guilt and confusion churned in his gut. Why should he care about what some twenty three year old did? They hardly knew each other. Maybe Zoro was finally hanging out with some guys his age.

Why did that make him feel jealous?

Maybe I’m just getting too pent up. He told himself. When he got home at the end of the night, Sanji tried to masturbate in the shower. He tried to picture his wife, casting his mind back to remember the last time they had sex. How long has it been? Months? Years? He couldn’t manage to finish. Sanji finally gave up and went to bed upset and unsatisfied.

He dreamt of sex. It was rough and raw, two sweaty bodies clinging fiercely to one another. Pleasure pulsed through his body as he felt crushed into the mattress under the weight of his partner. Distantly, his more conscious brain recognized this was not his wife, but in the dream, Sanji didn’t care. It felt too good, the kind of pleasure that felt forbidden. The person on top of him, surrounding him, inside of him moaned, a deep ragged sound into his ear that made Sanji’s whole body draw tight like a bow. Zoro!

Sanji sat bolt upright in bed with a gasp, drenched in sweat. It was just a dream. He was alone. As he crawled out of bed he gasped at the wet, sticky feeling in his underwear that he recognized in a heartbeat. “Oh my fucking god.” He hissed. He rushed into the bathroom and shamefully stripped off his underwear, rinsed the embarrassing evidence of his wet dream away in the sink, and shoved the dirty laundry into his hamper where he couldn’t see it.

This couldn’t be happening. It shouldn’t be happening. No matter what, Sanji was faithful to his wife. His eyes never strayed, he didn’t picture himself with other women. The last time he had a wet dream had to have been in his twenties, the same age as… Stop it. You need to quit thinking about him. 

Yet no matter how hard he tried, his sinful thoughts betrayed him. He even tried paying more attention to the physical looks of other customers today. Of course the women were pretty, but it didn’t stir feelings inside of him, like… Fuck. Sanji even shot surreptitious glances at a few of the younger men at the bar that night, testing himself. No, no… I don’t think I’m gay. He’d been hit on by men and women alike over the years, of course, and he was always flattered, but none of that compared to whatever was going on in his head when he thought about Zoro. But was Zoro truly flirting with him? Or was Sanji just a temporary amusement? 

…

After the way Sanji left, Zoro feared that maybe he was getting too eager and coming on a little too strong. Zoro decided to give him some space and wait for the older man to reach back out to him, but Sanji was taking a lot longer than he had expected to come back around. Maybe Sanji didn’t see it yet, but Zoro needed him. It had been about a week since they saw each other, and Zoro couldn’t wait any more. He just finished a job late, which ended up messier than expected. He could feel blood on his face, but it was the last thing on his mind. The restaurant was closing soon, but he hoped he could make it in time to see Sanji before he went home. 

“Shit.” He growled. All of the lights were off when he pulled up. Was he too late? Zoro parked and got out of his car, glancing up and down the street for a sign of hair as golden as the sunset. He froze when he heard the creak of the restaurant’s back door. A moment later, Sanji stepped out onto the sidewalk with a lit cigarette already in hand for the walk home. God, it had been too long–all of the words he thought he might say escaped him when Sanji recognized him and ran across the street towards him.

“Zoro!” Sanji looked up into his face, his voice wavering with worry. “What happened to you?? You’re bleeding!”

“I’m fine.” Zoro smiled. He was over the moon as Sanji grabbed onto his elbow to drag him back to his apartment, lecturing him the entire brief walk about being a cocky, irresponsible kid. “I didn’t start the fight, if it makes you feel any better.” Zoro finally chimed in as they walked up to Sanji’s door. 

“Whatever, just come in and sit down.” Sanji guided Zoro over to the dining room table. “Be right back.” Zoro settled into a chair and glanced around, taking in the inside of Sanji’s apartment for the first time. He had only seen it in bits and pieces, in the background of photos and videos among Pudding’s digital footprint. It was simple, but clean. He could tell that Sanji took good care of the place, and he could see how little Pudding left her imprint on the space. It was like she barely even existed in his life any more.

Sanji returned with a first aid kit in hand and told Zoro to sit still. He watched Sanji’s face, closer than ever before as he leaned in to inspect Zoro’s split lip and the gash on his cheek. This close, he could admire Sanji’s long dark eyelashes and the light dusting of freckles that colored his fair cheeks. 

“You’re blushing.” Zoro observed, which only made Sanji’s cheeks turn redder. 

“I am not.” Sanji denied it to no avail. Zoro could feel the small tremble in his hands as the older man put ointment on his wounds. What’s going on in his head? Zoro wondered. For all of his mastery of spying and espionage, he still couldn’t read minds or guess at what Sanji was thinking. It was like something had happened since the last time they saw each other.

“Why didn’t you text, or call?” Zoro asked. 

“Because, Zoro, I can’t… You don’t need someone like me around.” Sanji looked like he had so much more to say, but he held it in. Zoro frowned, his brows furrowing.

“You don’t know what I do and don’t need.” He spoke lowly, holding his frustration on a tight leash. 

“I don’t understand you!” Sanji burst out suddenly, throwing his hands up in the air. “What the hell does a man so young see in a guy like me?? You act so needy, but you haven’t visited me at work once the past week. Is this all some kind of joke to you? Because the way you keep messing with my head isn’t fucking funny!” 

Zoro stood up so he could look down into Sanji’s eyes and make it clear who was really in charge here. “You’re right, Sanji.” He spoke just above a whisper and stepped closer, closing the gap between them and forcing Sanji back until he was pressed against the wall behind him. “You’re right… but this isn't a joke to me. I'm very serious.” He leaned one hand against the wall behind him, caging him in with his larger frame. He could see Sanji’s pupils grow wide, and he was so close he could feel how fast the man was breathing. “I’m young, and needy, and a bit reckless… And when I want something, I take it.” They were so close… If he leaned in just a little further, Zoro could kiss him.

“S-stop,” Sanji pressed a hand against Zoro’s chest, hardly an attempt to keep him at bay. “I can't… I still have a wife.” 

“Do you?” Zoro scoffed. “Sanji, she doesn't give a damn about you. She’s cheating on you.” He sighed and backed off, giving Sanji room to breathe. “Forget it. Thanks for taking care of me. I should get out of your hair.” He moved towards the door somewhat slowly, waiting for Sanji to change his mind, but he didn't.

“... See you later, Zoro.” Sanji said softly as he left.  

See you later. He smiled. That was an improvement. Sanji wanted to see him, that much was clear. Zoro pulled his phone from his pocket as he walked away to shoot Franky a text. 

Send the photos. 

…

Sanji had to sit down and take slow, deep breaths to slow his racing heart after Zoro left. God, he was so close… Deep down, he almost wished Zoro ignored Sanji’s hesitation and just kissed him anyway. He actually wanted to know what it would feel like to kiss an attractive young man like him. Am I interested in men after all? He wondered, in disbelief with himself. 

Lost in his thoughts, he quietly cleaned up the first aid kit, missing Zoro’s presence already. On a whim, he decided to call his sister.

“Hello, Sanji.” She answered after only a few rings.

“Reiju,” He hesitated, not even sure where to begin. “What if… What if I filed for a divorce? Do you think father would get mad?”

“Actually, Sanji… Maybe not. Multiple scandals have come out recently about the Charlotte family, and the price of their company stocks are dropping fast. Father isn’t happy. I think he’s been in talks to pull out of their deal completely.”

“Really??” Sanji couldn’t believe his luck. “What else has happened?”

“Well, besides the two that were recently arrested on drug possession, apparently embezzling has come up from one of the other sons as well.” Reiju explained. “It almost feels like someone is working to ruin the Charlotte empire.”

“You really think someone could do that?” Sanji wondered.

“Maybe, or maybe it’s a whole group of people. The timing just seems strange.”

“I see.” Sanji hummed. “Reiju… This is between us, obviously, but… I think Pudding is having an affair.”

“Hmm.. I’m sorry, Sanji. Another nail in the coffin, if that comes to light too. You know how father likes to keep his image as tidy as possible. Be patient, and I’ll try to let you know, but… You might be able to leave her, if that’s what you want.”

“O-okay. Thanks, Reiju.”

“Love you, baby brother.”

“Love you.” He hung up and stared at his phone. There was a new notification, a text message from a number he didn’t have saved. There was no written message, just photos. His blood ran ice cold through his veins. At first he refused to believe what he was seeing, but the longer he stared, the less he could deny the reality right in front of him. Pudding was with another man, at a pool, in a hot tub. She was hardly dressed, and there was more than one photo of them kissing. 

Who is this?? Sanji responded to the unknown sender. Even though it tore his heart to shreds, Sanji couldn’t tear his eyes away, analyzing each photo over and over. Whoever he was, Pudding was having an affair with a much younger man. Finally, Sanji forced himself to toss the phone aside and stop looking at it, though the images remained imprinted upon his mind. He was rooted in place where he sat on the couch for what felt like ages as the thoughts in his head spun so fast it made him dizzy. 

With a jolt, Sanji jumped off of the couch and bolted into the bathroom just in time to throw up inside of the toilet bowl as nausea overwhelmed him. With shaking hands he flushed the toilet and rinsed out his mouth, then slowly returned to the couch to pick up his phone again.

No response from the mysterious sender. However, he did have a text from his boss for the night shift at the restaurant. There was a fire at the restaurant overnight that started in the back alley. The business had to be closed for repairs, so all of the staff were on unpaid leave until further notice. 

“I’m not going to make rent next month!” Sanji lamented. He called the bakery to see if he could pick up any extra shifts, but he already worked more than forty hours a week and there weren’t any extra hours to go around. He could feel himself hyperventilating as hot tears stung his eyes. Sanji spun on his heel and stormed into the bedroom. He threw himself onto the bed, shoved his face into the pillows, and screamed as hard as he could. 

He cried for hours, mourning the complete waste of thirteen years of his life. They were married so, so young. Only twenty years old, and he swore his entire future to this woman. And now what was he left with? A mountain of debt so large it would cripple him for life, and absolutely nothing to show of himself. No achievements, no college degree, and no prospects for the future. The path forward was a Sisyphean task. The only decent money he managed to make recently was… “Ah shit.” Sanji hissed.