Work Text:
The mid-morning light of Water Seven is a welcome warmth on Sanji’s skin. The dishes from breakfast are nearly done, and he’s beginning to consider who might be around for lunch.
He thinks he’ll head out to the grill for kebabs, it’s a beautiful day for it.
Galley-La’s temporary headquarters have been more than sufficient while they wait on their new ship to be built. Sanji has all the supplies he could ask for.
It’s still odd to know they’ll be sailing off with some new ship.
And it’s still difficult not to miss the sweet little corner he had in Merry’s lounge. It hadn’t been grand or luxurious. But it was home, at least for a time.
Abruptly, a knock on the doorframe halts Sanji’s thoughts.
The blond glances over his shoulder, surprised to find Franky the shipwright at the doorjamb. A bright grin on his face and a clunky notebook clenched in his fist.
“Hey, Sanji-bro! Could I bother you for a sec?”
“Hey Franky,” the blond greets. “And, um, sure?”
“Great!” Franky booms, striding into the quarters.
Sanji isn’t quite sure how he feels yet about the cyborg. Complicated, might be nearest to the truth.
Sanji respects him a great deal, both as a fighter and for helping the crew recover Robin. But he also hasn’t yet recovered from the full body shudder that overtook him when he’d seen the man’s fist launch itself from his arm on a chain.
Robin also seems to have taken a liking to the shipwright.
Which has absolutely no effect on Sanji’s personal feelings because Robin is a brilliant woman who can make her own decisions- Sanji has to remind himself.
The cyborg drags a chair away from the kitchen table and drops into a seat. He lets his notebook fall onto the table with a slap and thumbs it open to a fresh page.
“What’s up?” Sanji asks, admittedly curious.
“So my dream ship-” Franky prefaces. “The blueprints are solid. The structure's all planned out, ya see. But there’s still room for some detail as we get to the finishing touches. Figured I’d check with each of you Straw Hats on anything we can add to make her special for ‘ya.”
“Oh,” Sanji blinks, setting aside the dish he’s finished drying. A genuine smile stretches across his lips. “Wow, that’s really considerate of you.”
“Well I can’t make promises to get everything asked.” Franky waves him off, looking bashful. “But I figure it’s the least I could do- S’gonna be your ship, afterall.”
“Of course,” Sanji diverts politely. “How can I help?”
“Yow-!” Franky clicks his pen. “I want you to throw some thoughts at me. What’d you wish you’d had on the Merry? What details would make a ship your super home?!”
At once- About a billion ideas run through Sanji’s head.
He lights a cigarette and moves to join Franky at the table.
“Okay-” Sanji takes a long drag of his cigarette, glances to make sure Franky’s got his pen to the paper. “First- The figurehead needs to be big enough for Luffy to sit on it.”
“Uh-” Franky scowls in a bid of confusion. “Huh.”
“The ladies need their own space,” Sanji continues on, gesturing with his cigarette. “With a lock for privacy.”
“Okay?”
“Usopp would love having a garden. He might keep up with his slingshot ammo that way. And Chopper needs at least two beds in the infirmary.” A pause. “With straps on the beds. Strong ones- To keep Zoro from getting up when he’s supposed to be resting.”
“Wait- seriously?” Franky mutters.
“Robin-san needs a place for her books- and it needs to be safe from seawater.” Sanji is counting on his fingers now. “The navigators desk needs to have an adjustable height, Nami-san’s always crouched over her maps; it cannot be good for her back.”
Sanji lifts his chin. “Write that down, please. That is of utmost importance.”
“Sure…” The shipwright mumbles, his pen scratching across the paper.
“Now, for our swordsman…” Sanji sighs. “Where do I even start?”
“Look, I already talked to Roronoa.” Franky cocks his head and flips back a few pages in his notebook. “He just wanted a rack for his swords and a booze stash.”
Sanji chews around the filter of his cigarette. “Franky how big is this ship gonna be?”
“Picture a galleon.”
“Shit,” Sanji leans over to peer at the notebook. “How much room do you have on that page? Okay good- So first and foremost I need you to put down that Zoro is a dumbass.”
“...Right.”
“His sense of direction is abysmal. If we don’t take measures to prevent it I fear he’ll disappear into the belly of the ship and never return.”
Franky taps his pen on the paper. “You want signs posted?”
“No, that won’t work. He’d ignore them cause he won’t admit he’s a moron.” Sanji heaves a sigh. “It needs to be subtler."
“He really that bad?” Franky grimaces.
“I beg you not to underestimate him,” Sanji pleads.
“Okay, okay. So something to distinguish areas of the ship. Make ‘em navigational, but not obvious,” the shipwright mumbles, rubbing at his chin.
“Yes, exactly,” the blond points with the end of his cigarette.
“I got you, bro.” Franky leans back, lips quirked up in the smile of a challenge. “Accessability is super important.”
“Right.”
“Anything else?”
Sanji chews on the filter of his smoke. “Zoro throws weights around heavier than the anchor of a battleship. Merry’s deck could barely handle the strain on a good day.”
“Gotcha,” Franky nods. “Well there’s gonna be a dedicated training room so I’ll make sure it can handle some damage.”
“A training room?”
“Yeah,” Franky beams. “Top of the line.”
“Well… make sure the deck can handle it too.” Sanji mumbles. “He likes to train in the fresh air… sometimes.”
“Alright, man. Sure.”
“And can you make a spot for him to nap where I won’t trip over him all the goddamn time. Somewhere exposed.” Sanji waves his hand above his head in gesture. “He needs the sunlight- He’s part plant, you see.”
“Uh huh,” the shipwright drawls. “Is… there anything else?”
“No, I think that covers it all,” Sanji nods to himself, satisfied.
Franky doesn’t move to close his notebook. “Are you sure?”
The blond rolls his cigarette to the other corner of his mouth. “Nothing comes to mind.”
“You don’t have any opinions on the galley?”
Sanji takes another drag of his smoke; considers it thoroughly.
“Oh,” he realizes. “Actually…Well, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble…”
☀︎☀︎☀︎
Zoro exhales slowly, embracing the burn of his muscles as he lower himself further into his stretch.
“Oi- Roronoa!”
The swordsman looks up, surprised to see Franky walking over.
“Hey,” he greets, pushing one last dip into his stretch before moving to stand. “What’s up?”
“Sorry to bother you again, man,” Franky sighs. “But I was hopin’ you could clear something up for me.”
Zoro frowns. He can’t imagine what Franky would need from him. He’d already given his two cents for the ship and they weren’t difficult tasks. “Uh, Shoot.”
“So I’ve talked to all the Straw Hats now ‘bout the details of the ship-” The cyborg explains, pulling his notebook out from the pocket of his shirt. “And all of ‘em had super cool ideas. Ah- except for… Cook-bro.” He finishes lamely.
Zoro smirks. “Let me guess- He wants the fanciest galley on the sea? With a bunch’a frou frou cooking shit?”
“Ah- actually none of his suggestions had anything to do with the galley.” Franky admits.
The swordsman scowls. “What?”
“Yeah, he gave me about-” Franky thumbs through his book- “four pages of stuff for everyone else… And then asked for a lock on the fridge.”
“Moron,” Zoro mumbles.
“Mh-hm,” Franky agrees mildly. “I was hoping you might be able to help give a few more pointers on what he needs.”
Zoro scowls. “Why me?”
Franky raises an eyebrow. “Cause you two are always-” he wiggles his fingers vaguely. “Up in each other's stuff. ”
Zoro crosses his arms.
He’s not sure how he feels about that insinuation.
“Look, if you can’t then it’s cool.” Franky tries to wave it off. “I can try asking one of the others.”
Zoro grimaces, annoyance building in his gut. Of course the cook would do such a shit job at an easy question. The most opinionated man on the goddamn grand line and he still manages to make his stuff Zoro’s problem.
Shithead.
“No,” Zoro grunts. “I can do it. What do you need?”
Franky grins and flips open his notebook. “I just need to know what Sanji-bro might need in the galley to make it work best for him- yanno? Think you can do that?”
Zoro’s surprised to find the answers forming before he realizes he has them. “...Yeah.” He nods slowly. “Think I might.”
“Super!” Franky barks a laugh, getting his pen ready. “What’cha got?”
“Uh, well.. His shits always sliding around the counters,” Zoro gestures poorly with his hand in a mimic of the waves. “Can you make it stay put?”
“Smart move. You bet.”
“He’s always making our meals in batches. So he probably needs a big stove, bigger oven. Just… big stuff. Lots of food. ”
“Yeah I’ve seen how much that captain of yours can put away.”
“Ashtrays. Everywhere. He smokes like a chimney.”
“Got it.”
“And portholes.” Zoro decides. “Big ones, if you can. That open. He likes the breeze.”
“Already in the plans, bro.”
“You got something you can do for food waste? The cook’s resourceful, so there’s not much- but he gets real pissy when he can’t find use for somethin.”
“Oh yeah.”
“And how about… Is there any equipment that would like- do some of his work for him? He spends hours on his feet doing his prepwork.”
Franky lowers his sunglasses. “You thinkin’ like blenders, mandolin, processors? Maybe sou vide?”
“Dunno what half of that shit you said was. Look whatever fancy ass kitchen gadgets you can get your hands on- He’ll know how to use,” Zoro replies firmly.
“Awesome.”
“Ah- except knives. He has his own knives.”
“Sure, bro.”
Zoro scratches at his cheek. “Whats the pantry gonna be like?”
“Massive.”
“That’s good,” he nods. “Cook re-counts stock twice a week, takes’em a few hours. Always keeping track of how much and how long it’s gonna last.”
Franky grins, “Then I think he’ll love what I got planned.”
“And can there be a seat at the counter, so I can- uh, so the girls can hang out with him while he cooks?”
Franky’s pen pauses for a moment. “Absolutely.”
“And make sure it’s comfortable in there- so he can fucking relax.” Zoro gripes. “He likes to read but won’t leave the galley while shit’s on the stove or in the oven.”
“Mhm.”
“Okay good…Cool.”
Franky taps his pen on the spiral of the notebook. “Anything else?”
Zoro clenches his jaw and shuffles on his feet.
“Do you know anything about yoga?”
☀︎☀︎☀︎
The Thousand Sunny.
Sanji is in awe. His heart is fit to burst.
He glides a palm across the smooth finish of the butcher's counter. Taps a fingertip to one of the stovetop’s glossy brass knobs.
The hobs on the stove are huge, wide enough to hold a skillet the length of a whole tuna. The spice rack has a fasten that he can close between meals to keep the jars from sliding around on the shift of the waves.
In the cabinets, he finds a number of tools he’d be lucky to gaze upon at the Baratie. A Pasta roller. A spice grinder. An immersion blender.
Sanji explores out into the dining space next, pausing to enjoy the sight of a delightful bay nook for the kitchen table, with a cushioned bench soaking up the sun through the windowpanes.
He pauses next to the table, where a wooden rack hangs horizontal on the wall. At first glance Sanji assumes it to be for cleaning implements. A broom, mop, or whatnot. But the lack of such items already in place makes him reconsider.
Sanji traces his finger across the three openings in the rack, and his mind's eye supplements the completed picture.
At once, the blond flushes and turns away.
When Sanji opens the pantry, he’s astounded to find an unusual system built into the shelving. Engraved wooden toggles, with knobs to adjust a section for the date and an inventory count.
It takes Sanji a good few hours to pour over every detail that's tucked away into the space.
In its entirety- The Thousand Sunney’s galley is more incredible than Sanji could have ever imagined.
There’s several ashtrays built into the counters.
The oven has a proofing drawer.
The refrigerator has a lock.
Sanji could cry.
The Merry had a multipurpose room. The counters were Sanji’s and the cabinets were Sanji’s and the stove was Sanji’s.
But this- This is entirely Sanji’s Galley.
Sanji might cry, actually.
His eyes are burning. His lashline feels wet.
The hinges of the galley door give a quiet sigh as it swings open. The smooth seam of their fasten barely offers a sound.
At once, Sanji blows a mouthful of smoke to cover himself, blinking harshly until the burn of tears fades.
When the haze of smoke abates, the neon blue of Franky’s hair catches Sanji’s attention first.
“Yo!” Franky waves in greeting, a beaming smile on his face. “How’s it look, Sanji-bro?”
“Hey Franky,” Sanji greets him with a broad smile. “You’ve outdone yourself. It’s marvelous.”
“Super great to hear, bro!” He replies, his chest puffed out in pride. “Anything need adjusting?”
“No, not at all! It’s… It’s beautiful.“ Sanji traces a finger around a ridged corner of the counter. A gentle barrier to keep items from sliding off at the bend of a wave. “And the features are incredibly thoughtful. You must be familiar with the gripes of a ship's cook.” he laughs.
“Glad to hear you like’em!” Franky laughs with him. “And I’ll take the pride of the craftsmanship, but I’m afraid I can’t take the credit for some of the ideas.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, bro. Roronoa’s suggestions were super helpful.”
Sanji’s brain abruptly screeches to a halt.
“Pardon?”
☀︎☀︎☀︎
Sanji has to take a lap around the entire ship to cool off.
He nearly doesn’t emerge from the aquarium bar.
Which is both fantastic because they can use it as live food storage and because it's an aquarium bar.
As he stomps about, the blond can’t help but take notice of the features he himself requested. The nuanced additions to improve the ships… internal navigation.
Franky had mentioned it to him earlier before Sanji had managed to scuttle off, the shipwright too excited not to share.
Sanji’s requests had resulted in unique trims for each of the halls and doorways.
A swirling blue motif leading to the galley door. Purple foliage ornamenting the path to the library. Orange scrollwork here and green zigzags there.
Not a single path through the ship looks the same as any other. And, as Franky had pointed out- The crown molding designs were also asymmetric, identifying the difference between traversing bow to stern, or from starboard to port.
It’s subtle, and still special.
It’s perfect.
If Zoro manages to get lost in this ship there’s not a scrap of hope for the bastard.
…Speaking of.
Sanji stands morosely at the base of the mast, glaring up at the ladder to the crows nest as he gathers the gumption to move.
Inevitability, he thinks- is a prickly thing.
☀︎☀︎☀︎
When Sanji cracks open the trapdoor to the crows nest, he’s unsurprised to find Zoro throwing weights around.
In all fairness, Zoro does appear to be doing so in an effort to organize them. Which is acceptable behavior.
Zoro is also shirtless. Sanji doesn’t feel any particular way about this fact.
“Hey,” Zoro greets without looking.
“Hey,” Sanji climbs into the room and slips a fresh cigarette between his lips. “I came to see the crows nest before you sweat all over everything.”
“Hm,” Zoro pretends to think about it. “Might be too late for that.”
The swordsman lifts a weight over his shoulder and the movement defines the muscles of his back.
“Pity,” Sanij drawls, taking a leisurely drag as he looks around.
Franky hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said there’d be a dedicated training space.
Zoro is currently shoving his weights into place around the main mast, and then securing them with a series of thick straps present for such a purpose. There also appears to be a collection of yoga mats in the equipment storage, which Sanji takes a moment to eye with interest.
Around the outer edge of the room is a generous number of windows, and a continual bench built into the wall. A portion of the bench even has cushions and a railed bookshelf.
Choosing the respectable option, Sanji strides over to the cushions and lounges into the seat.
It’s quite comfortable.
Zoro secures another weight, grunting as he tugs the strap tight.
Sanji’s hand drifts aside habitually. He turns his head, intending to ash his cigarette out the window, but halts as realizes there’s an ashtray beside him. Built into the window sill, a safe and reasonable distance away from the bookshelf.
The presence of it irks him with a niggling sense of transparency.
Zoro exhales a heavy breath and pauses to stretch. “How's the seat?”
“Comfy.” Sanji admits.
“Yeah?” Zoro strides over and slumps himself beside the blond. He throws Sanji a crooked grin. “That nook in the galley looks comfy too.”
“No comment. Haven’t tried it yet.”
Zoro grins. “I’ll let you know, then.”
“Hm, bet you will.”
The swordsman leans back into the cushion, draping an arm across the backrest. “Did you see the grass, though?”
“Do you think I’m blind?” The blond scoffs. “Of course I saw the grass. Who puts grass on a ship?”
Zoro chuckles. “S’pretty cool.”
Sanji glowers out the window. “It’s pretty fucking cool.”
Zoro’s laughter lingers in the air and Sanji shifts beside him, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“Did you find the bar yet?” Sanji asks.
Zoro lurches forward, “There’s a bar?”
“Yeah,” Sanji smirks, “it has an aquarium.”
“No shit?” Zoro grins, crooked and boyish. “Oi- You gotta do your frilly bottle spins there.”
The blond laughs. “It’s called mixology, dumbass.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Zoro gripes, leaning back once more.
His limbs are draped closer this time, the pad of his thumb brushing against the fine hairs at Sanji’s nape. The warmth of his thigh pressing against Sanji’s own.
Not that Sanji’s thinking about it.
“...Big ass ship,” Zoro mumbles in declaration.
“There’s a lot of space,” Sanji agrees.
“Might be nice not to have to see your ugly mug all damn day.”
“Might be nice not to trip over you every two goddamn seconds.”
“Might be nice not to hear you yapping.”
“Might be nice not to smell you sweating.”
“...Might be boring.”
“Might be peaceful.”
Zoro’s lips quirk upwards. “Liar.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
There's a beat of silence.
The sway of the ship is milder in such a large galleon. She handles the waves gentler than Merry could. The breeze carries the joyous shouts of their crewmates as they explore below them.
“Hey,” Zoro prompts after a beat, his tone softer. “Have you seen the first mate’s quarters?”
“No-” Sanji turns, aghast. “There’s a first mate's quarters? Seriously?”
“Mh-hm. Franky showed me.” Zoro grins, smug as shit. “S’got a rack for my swords.”
“Unbelievable.”
“Bed’s a decent size.” He continues. “But the wardrobe's bigger than I need.”
“How generous.”
“Although.” Zoro taps idly at the backrest behind Sanji's head. “Still feels like it’s missing something.”
Sanji taps the end of his cigarette into the ashtray. “This sounds like something you should be complaining to Franky about.”
“Naw.” Zoro shakes his head, “Franky can’t help with this.”
The blond turns his gaze aside, feeling a heat build in his cheeks. “Sounds like you’ve got some privacy, you should be grateful.”
“I don’t see it like that,” Zoro murmurs, his hand inching closer to trace a lazy figure eight around the top of Sanji’s spine. “I’m picturing it more like I’ve got room to grow.”
Sanji groans. “Moss…”
“Yeah?”
The blond throws him a sour pout. “You’re not subtle.”
“You like that about me,” Zoro grins.
“I just… Are you sure?” Sanji frets running a loose hand through his hair.
“I’ve always been sure, Curly,” Zoro catches his hand with his own, threading their fingers together to rest on their laps. “I know you were worried how we’d fit together. But I thought maybe, here…There might be enough room to try.”
Sanji curses, plucking his cigarette from his lips where he’s bent the filter, moving to crush it in the ashtray on the windowsill.
His fingers halt against the ceramic, and for a heartbeat, his mind freezes too.
Because here, in Zoro’s space- is an object that no one else on the entire ship will use.
Except him.
A surge of affection catches in Sanji’s chest. He thinks of his beautiful galley, a space made home because Zoro made sure Sanji had everything he could have ever wanted. He thinks of the unique trim in the hallways that he’d requested built to keep this kind, handsome moron from losing his way.
Sanji turns his head to catch the swordsman’s gaze, soft and honest in his devotion.
And finally, the pieces fall into place.
Zoro’s features soften, seeming to read the warmth gathering in Sanji’s eyes.
“How ‘bout it, then Curls,” He smiles. “You think we’ll fit now?”
And Sanji can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips.
“You bastard.” He laughs fondly, leaning in to press their foreheads together and enjoying the coral tint that gathers in Zoro’s cheeks from the affection. “You unsubtle, romantic, bastard-
“We already do.”
☀︎☀︎☀︎