[ the changes in zoro's words from their previous conversations doesn't go unnoticed; sanji has always recognized that when zoro expresses himself, he typically doesn't, instead articulating that everything is either about the crew or about luffy, even when it isn't. but there's no division in this argument which is what contributes to the shudder that runs through sanji now, feeling the personal weight of something left unfinished swimming its way back to the surface.
he knows he isn't wrong in the assumption of a reversal, no matter how impossible the scenario. even in reality, sanji hadn't been the first to leave the team, either, remembering the way they'd all been shaken by usopp's choice to confront luffy in battle and depart. that had taken time, too, for usopp to determine his own role on their crew, to step back up with a certainty of his loyalty rather than simply be offered a welcoming hand before the time was ready.
even if sanji had been desperate to stop the escalation of the fight then, he and zoro had been of the same mind then about the result and what needed to be done.
it's no different here. their fight isn't over. but this time, putting it to the test with boots and swords won't make it go away. the usual methods don't work here, but that's not what zoro's asking for.
say it.
not for luffy. not for the crew. for zoro. but maybe β maybe for sanji, too.
sanji doesn't even try to fight off the strength of those hands when they grab at him, letting the grip reel him in even as he clenches his teeth and nearly hisses like he's ready to put up his defenses in a battle. except when he grabs at zoro's arms, it isn't a counter, his fingers curling around each of his wrists to hold on rather than to try and yank him away. ]
Idiot, of course I need you! [ it's shouted with exasperation and anger, but there's ache in it too, carried on by the guilt that still dwells in him. idiot, he calls him, but zoro has every right to have not believed it. not when sanji had done the very thing to let him down, to make him believe that he hadn't been needed.
they trusted one another, to fill the space the other couldn't, to set the balance, and sanji had broken it. ]
I shouldn't have left. I should have asked for help. I know that! But I came back because I needed my crew! Because it's supposed to be the two of us!
[ he belongs with his nakama, all of them. but his love for the rest of the crew isn't what's on trial right now. ]
You and I β we're supposed to be Luffy's wings, and if one isn't there, then we all fall. [ his fingers squeeze tighter, hands shaking. ] I left you to fall when I doubted myself. I know that shouldn't be forgiven. But I came back, Zoro. Because things only make sense when it's me and you β together. Because I need you just as much as you need me.
( back when usopp left the crew all those years ago, zoro was the last one to allow him to return. it wasn't anything personalβzoro likes usopp as much as he likes any other member of their crewβbut there's something about this life of pirating that zoro isn't willing to let slide, something that conflates his sense of what it means to be a man with what it means to make a promise to someone. you don't get to come and go as you please. when you make an oath to join a crew, you have to stick to it. even if luffy leads his crew in a laidback way any other time, he has to understand that.
eventually, usopp came around and apologized, which made things all right in zoro's book, but he couldn't settle for anything less. had usopp come along with nothing to say for himself, casually, like nothing ever happened, zoro wouldn't have been able to accept it.
and usopp isn't half as close to him as sanji is.
granted, zoro isn't placing all of his crewmates on a scale of importance to him. if asked, he'd likely say that everyone is equal in his eyes, even if that isn't entirely true. everyone is important to him and entitled to his protection, but he has attachments and feelings like anyone else. he'd be hard-pressed to admit a thing like that, though, and what he's doing now doesn't count. admitting the way he needs sanji, making it clear that his world doesn't work unless sanji is in it, that's something separate from the rest of their crew. what he and sanji have is different. anyone can see that.
zoro's hands abandon sanji's shirt and hold onto his face instead, the grip being too gentle to be a grab, but too firm to be considered caressing. it's something in the middle, harsh but mindful. his dumb, shitty facial hair prickles beneath zoro's fingers. )
Why do you feel as if you have to deal with any of that alone? ( more importantly, how could zoro be blind to sanji's insecurities? they all have things they need to improve on, but what kind of doubt is this? how hollow is sanji feeling inside? ) When you're feeling unworthy, look at yourself the way I see you! Tell me when you're feeling bad so I can tell you all the ways you're stupid, and horny, and perverted, and strong, and that I need you!
( it's not impossible to do it alone, but how could zoro ever be happy knowing that his crewmate gave up his dream for his sake? if sanji wants to talk about knowing people, he should know that would never work. he should know that his crew loves him so much that they'd never be okay with a sacrifice like that, because they care about his dreams and his happiness as much as he cares about theirs.
since when did sanji value his own life so lowly? )
...If you do that, if you tell me when you're feeling that way, then I'll forgive you.
[ sanji had thought he'd heard all that he needed to hear from luffy back when he'd been struggling to free himself from his family's shackles (βyou can kick me all you want but you're the one feeling the painβtell me how you really feel) and at the time, it really had been exactly what he needed then. but it hadn't been the end of it, and the recent nightmares he'd been forced to endure the past few days have been proof that a part of him still lingered in the cell of the castle.
it's not something so easily erased, for all the weight that luffy had been able to release from his shoulders, because those vulnerabilities and insecurities still remain a part of him (βbecause that's who are you areβ). the guilt that followed him in witnessing zoro's lasting anger only confirms the parts of him that still question his worth from time to time, the voice instilled in him that still echo with the cries of a young boy wailing to his wretched father, "i'm sorry i was born weak".
if someone like zoro were to hear those words out of his mouth, would he hate him for it? to hear the person he's trusted most to be his equal to fall into such doubt?
it's only now that sanji even realizes that it's been his fear all this time. ever since he arrived here and faced zoro for the first time since he'd left.
but whatever he'd been afraid of letting zoro for fear of being truly despised, it all withers when zoro takes his face in his hands and says the things that sanji had been needing to hear from him. when sanji feels the heat upon his cheeks, it isn't from the closeness, or the grasp of calloused palms against his skin. it's from having a need that's being met word for word, from learning that for all of his fear of being a burden, the person he'd been afraid of disappointing most isn't turning away.
instead, it's all raw and honest, eye meeting eye, stern and open. ]
Okay. [ he says more quietly, low like a whispered promise.
the last time it'd been like that, zoro had also left him with an unexpected truth (βi want it to be meβ) and sanji hadn't known what to do with it either. though he doesn't kiss him this time (even if his gaze does briefly drift to those lips like the quiet pull that always seems to exist beneath the surface of every confrontation), his hands slide down to his hips, fingers curling into the fabric of zoro's shirt to clutch a bit tighter and reel himself in closer.
because so much of sanji's needs live in physicality. if it isn't the typical fire of battle that arises between them, then his language finds other forms of speaking, such as the way he tips his head forward until the top of it nudges against zoro's, offering the very thing that he's been asked to trust him with β vulnerability. ]
I'll come to you first. And you can tell me all of that again. Just ... don't give up on me until then.
( to zoro, it makes sense that they're becoming like this: touchy, handsy, feely. they've had their hands all over one another since the moment they met. how long after sanji joined the crew were they trying to kill each other? a week? a day? touching is so engrained into their relationship that for it to come to this, hands on hips, fingers sliding back into cropped blonde hair and curling there, feels natural. even the way sanji's head rests against his feels right, though it's missing the accompanying yell and glint of teeth bared and ready to bite. it's just fighting with all of the fighting stripped away, new and familiar at once. )
Yeah... I won't.
( he closes his eye, reveling in that sense of shared warmth. it's more than just thumos; it's something about being known, and being there for someone in the ways he always wished he could be. he wants to ask if sanji is selfish enough to think that he's the only one struggling, if he's the only one facing doubts. like if zoro was strong enough for sanji to place his faith in, he would have never had a reason to leave at all. that's zoro's struggle: not being strong enough for the people who need him. or maybe sanji just didn't believe that he was strong enough, which is somehow worse.
was he giving up on sanji, or was sanji giving up on him?
for them to end up here, both of those things have to be true to some extent, right? once upon a time, zoro might have said something like this can never be repaired after being damaged so deeply. now, he isn't sure.
when he opens his eye to look at sanji, his cheeks are more red than before. there's something more final in his gaze, too. )
...Stay here tonight.
( if sanji strains, he can hear the implied 'i want you to' that isn't being said.
unsurprisingly, zoro hadn't noticed the way sanji's gaze trailed down to his lips and lingered there, but zoro can be a bit dense with those things. it doesn't stop him from looking sanji's lips now, and then kissing them with his whole heart. sanji kissed him first, back in the carriage, and this feels like another of those fighting, competitive spirit things between them. zoro has to deliver, since sanji striked first the last time, and zoro can't wait around for sanji to be the one initiate things every time. sometimes, zoro instigates their fights, too. plus, sanji's an idiot. he probably doesn't even get the obvious things, like the fact that he could have kissed zoro at any point, at any time, and it would have been fine with him.
they haven't done anything at all since that time in the carriage, and it's not as if zoro has spent every single day of charm school thinking about it in a completely normal, uninterested sort of way. if anyone asked, he'd say he hadn't thought about it at all. but with the way he kisses sanji now, of course he's thought about it. chances are it's the only thing he's thought about, more than swords and sake combined. zoro has thought about the feeling of sanji's mouth on his the same way that sanji thinks about women: respectfully, mostly. )
[ this really does feel much of the same for them, and yet, not at all. they've always lingered close, foreheads nudged firmly together as they growled their threats between their teeth, often requiring someone like nami-san or usopp to pry them apart before they tore the ship to pieces with their aggressive competitiveness. but the atmosphere changes when truth is expressed out loud for once, rather than assumption, confessions allowing a weight to drift from sanji's shoulders so that he's left drifting helplessly back into zoro's space where a piece of himself has always lived, in one way or another.
he doesn't assume this is the end of it. they'll find another reason to argue again, whether about this or about something petty and inconsequential, but it does feel like he'd been pried free from at least one of his many shackles still gripping him down, and likely what had been the heaviest one as of late. though he still owes it to zoro to prove his trust in him, to rely on the strength that he's always so freely offered to him to lean against, the existence of its invitation is enough to calm the living storm in his heart tonight.
when zoro asks him to stay, he peers up to meet his gaze, no words from his lips even if he already has his answer.
it doesn't matter that they've stayed together in the same room countless times before, numerous nights crammed together in a cabin with the rest of their boys, feet kicking faces while still dozing, mumbled dreams about food and candy and machines all stemming from different voices as they try to catch as much sleep before the early sun, before sanji rises an hour before everyone else just to have breakfast ready by the time all their eyes open.
the difference here is that it's zoro asking, a willingness in his quiet voice, an honest want that sanji isn't left with too much time to consider before the collision of lips keep any sound from leaving him at all.
things in the carriage had happened so suddenly and unexpectedly that sanji had left it with the insistence in pretending it'd never happened at all, aware that sorting out the implications would leave him swirling about amidst his determined reluctance to admit the way he'd allowed it all to happen without much resistance. especially since it'd been his mouth that had first found zoro's then, making the entire thing a lot more complicated to untangle. but if he'd spent any time through his days at the charm school cursing his choices then, there's really no hint of it now, giving in to zoro's kiss as if he'd been starved for it.
the way he kisses him back might suggest that his previous mirrored confession of "i want it to be you" bears a lot more weight even now, especially now, when he knows it's zoro who sees him, who he wants to see him, for all the broken pieces he'd been too frightened to show. just as he wants zoro to see himself for more than just his strength and power, for those raw open wounds to be just as willingly shared in reverse, for their trust to mean exactly as they intended it.
he sighs against his lips, almost in relief, be it from the kiss itself or simply the accumulation of everything else building up to this moment. his fingers clutch tighter now, low at his back, digging against the fabric to grip at the muscle beneath β craving touch, contact, closeness β pulling him in until he can't be pulled any closer. it's the answer to his request β stay here tonight β as he nestles his chest in tightly, mouth meeting mouth to match equal yearning, making it clear that he has no intentions on going anywhere. ]
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no subject
he knows he isn't wrong in the assumption of a reversal, no matter how impossible the scenario. even in reality, sanji hadn't been the first to leave the team, either, remembering the way they'd all been shaken by usopp's choice to confront luffy in battle and depart. that had taken time, too, for usopp to determine his own role on their crew, to step back up with a certainty of his loyalty rather than simply be offered a welcoming hand before the time was ready.
even if sanji had been desperate to stop the escalation of the fight then, he and zoro had been of the same mind then about the result and what needed to be done.
it's no different here. their fight isn't over. but this time, putting it to the test with boots and swords won't make it go away. the usual methods don't work here, but that's not what zoro's asking for.
say it.
not for luffy. not for the crew. for zoro. but maybe β maybe for sanji, too.
sanji doesn't even try to fight off the strength of those hands when they grab at him, letting the grip reel him in even as he clenches his teeth and nearly hisses like he's ready to put up his defenses in a battle. except when he grabs at zoro's arms, it isn't a counter, his fingers curling around each of his wrists to hold on rather than to try and yank him away. ]
Idiot, of course I need you! [ it's shouted with exasperation and anger, but there's ache in it too, carried on by the guilt that still dwells in him. idiot, he calls him, but zoro has every right to have not believed it. not when sanji had done the very thing to let him down, to make him believe that he hadn't been needed.
they trusted one another, to fill the space the other couldn't, to set the balance, and sanji had broken it. ]
I shouldn't have left. I should have asked for help. I know that! But I came back because I needed my crew! Because it's supposed to be the two of us!
[ he belongs with his nakama, all of them. but his love for the rest of the crew isn't what's on trial right now. ]
You and I β we're supposed to be Luffy's wings, and if one isn't there, then we all fall. [ his fingers squeeze tighter, hands shaking. ] I left you to fall when I doubted myself. I know that shouldn't be forgiven. But I came back, Zoro. Because things only make sense when it's me and you β together. Because I need you just as much as you need me.
no subject
eventually, usopp came around and apologized, which made things all right in zoro's book, but he couldn't settle for anything less. had usopp come along with nothing to say for himself, casually, like nothing ever happened, zoro wouldn't have been able to accept it.
and usopp isn't half as close to him as sanji is.
granted, zoro isn't placing all of his crewmates on a scale of importance to him. if asked, he'd likely say that everyone is equal in his eyes, even if that isn't entirely true. everyone is important to him and entitled to his protection, but he has attachments and feelings like anyone else. he'd be hard-pressed to admit a thing like that, though, and what he's doing now doesn't count. admitting the way he needs sanji, making it clear that his world doesn't work unless sanji is in it, that's something separate from the rest of their crew. what he and sanji have is different. anyone can see that.
zoro's hands abandon sanji's shirt and hold onto his face instead, the grip being too gentle to be a grab, but too firm to be considered caressing. it's something in the middle, harsh but mindful. his dumb, shitty facial hair prickles beneath zoro's fingers. )
Why do you feel as if you have to deal with any of that alone? ( more importantly, how could zoro be blind to sanji's insecurities? they all have things they need to improve on, but what kind of doubt is this? how hollow is sanji feeling inside? ) When you're feeling unworthy, look at yourself the way I see you! Tell me when you're feeling bad so I can tell you all the ways you're stupid, and horny, and perverted, and strong, and that I need you!
( it's not impossible to do it alone, but how could zoro ever be happy knowing that his crewmate gave up his dream for his sake? if sanji wants to talk about knowing people, he should know that would never work. he should know that his crew loves him so much that they'd never be okay with a sacrifice like that, because they care about his dreams and his happiness as much as he cares about theirs.
since when did sanji value his own life so lowly? )
...If you do that, if you tell me when you're feeling that way, then I'll forgive you.
no subject
it's not something so easily erased, for all the weight that luffy had been able to release from his shoulders, because those vulnerabilities and insecurities still remain a part of him (βbecause that's who are you areβ). the guilt that followed him in witnessing zoro's lasting anger only confirms the parts of him that still question his worth from time to time, the voice instilled in him that still echo with the cries of a young boy wailing to his wretched father, "i'm sorry i was born weak".
if someone like zoro were to hear those words out of his mouth, would he hate him for it? to hear the person he's trusted most to be his equal to fall into such doubt?
it's only now that sanji even realizes that it's been his fear all this time. ever since he arrived here and faced zoro for the first time since he'd left.
but whatever he'd been afraid of letting zoro for fear of being truly despised, it all withers when zoro takes his face in his hands and says the things that sanji had been needing to hear from him. when sanji feels the heat upon his cheeks, it isn't from the closeness, or the grasp of calloused palms against his skin. it's from having a need that's being met word for word, from learning that for all of his fear of being a burden, the person he'd been afraid of disappointing most isn't turning away.
instead, it's all raw and honest, eye meeting eye, stern and open. ]
Okay. [ he says more quietly, low like a whispered promise.
the last time it'd been like that, zoro had also left him with an unexpected truth (βi want it to be meβ) and sanji hadn't known what to do with it either. though he doesn't kiss him this time (even if his gaze does briefly drift to those lips like the quiet pull that always seems to exist beneath the surface of every confrontation), his hands slide down to his hips, fingers curling into the fabric of zoro's shirt to clutch a bit tighter and reel himself in closer.
because so much of sanji's needs live in physicality. if it isn't the typical fire of battle that arises between them, then his language finds other forms of speaking, such as the way he tips his head forward until the top of it nudges against zoro's, offering the very thing that he's been asked to trust him with β vulnerability. ]
I'll come to you first. And you can tell me all of that again. Just ... don't give up on me until then.
no subject
Yeah... I won't.
( he closes his eye, reveling in that sense of shared warmth. it's more than just thumos; it's something about being known, and being there for someone in the ways he always wished he could be. he wants to ask if sanji is selfish enough to think that he's the only one struggling, if he's the only one facing doubts. like if zoro was strong enough for sanji to place his faith in, he would have never had a reason to leave at all. that's zoro's struggle: not being strong enough for the people who need him. or maybe sanji just didn't believe that he was strong enough, which is somehow worse.
was he giving up on sanji, or was sanji giving up on him?
for them to end up here, both of those things have to be true to some extent, right? once upon a time, zoro might have said something like this can never be repaired after being damaged so deeply. now, he isn't sure.
when he opens his eye to look at sanji, his cheeks are more red than before. there's something more final in his gaze, too. )
...Stay here tonight.
( if sanji strains, he can hear the implied 'i want you to' that isn't being said.
unsurprisingly, zoro hadn't noticed the way sanji's gaze trailed down to his lips and lingered there, but zoro can be a bit dense with those things. it doesn't stop him from looking sanji's lips now, and then kissing them with his whole heart. sanji kissed him first, back in the carriage, and this feels like another of those fighting, competitive spirit things between them. zoro has to deliver, since sanji striked first the last time, and zoro can't wait around for sanji to be the one initiate things every time. sometimes, zoro instigates their fights, too. plus, sanji's an idiot. he probably doesn't even get the obvious things, like the fact that he could have kissed zoro at any point, at any time, and it would have been fine with him.
they haven't done anything at all since that time in the carriage, and it's not as if zoro has spent every single day of charm school thinking about it in a completely normal, uninterested sort of way. if anyone asked, he'd say he hadn't thought about it at all. but with the way he kisses sanji now, of course he's thought about it. chances are it's the only thing he's thought about, more than swords and sake combined. zoro has thought about the feeling of sanji's mouth on his the same way that sanji thinks about women: respectfully, mostly. )
no subject
he doesn't assume this is the end of it. they'll find another reason to argue again, whether about this or about something petty and inconsequential, but it does feel like he'd been pried free from at least one of his many shackles still gripping him down, and likely what had been the heaviest one as of late. though he still owes it to zoro to prove his trust in him, to rely on the strength that he's always so freely offered to him to lean against, the existence of its invitation is enough to calm the living storm in his heart tonight.
when zoro asks him to stay, he peers up to meet his gaze, no words from his lips even if he already has his answer.
it doesn't matter that they've stayed together in the same room countless times before, numerous nights crammed together in a cabin with the rest of their boys, feet kicking faces while still dozing, mumbled dreams about food and candy and machines all stemming from different voices as they try to catch as much sleep before the early sun, before sanji rises an hour before everyone else just to have breakfast ready by the time all their eyes open.
the difference here is that it's zoro asking, a willingness in his quiet voice, an honest want that sanji isn't left with too much time to consider before the collision of lips keep any sound from leaving him at all.
things in the carriage had happened so suddenly and unexpectedly that sanji had left it with the insistence in pretending it'd never happened at all, aware that sorting out the implications would leave him swirling about amidst his determined reluctance to admit the way he'd allowed it all to happen without much resistance. especially since it'd been his mouth that had first found zoro's then, making the entire thing a lot more complicated to untangle. but if he'd spent any time through his days at the charm school cursing his choices then, there's really no hint of it now, giving in to zoro's kiss as if he'd been starved for it.
the way he kisses him back might suggest that his previous mirrored confession of "i want it to be you" bears a lot more weight even now, especially now, when he knows it's zoro who sees him, who he wants to see him, for all the broken pieces he'd been too frightened to show. just as he wants zoro to see himself for more than just his strength and power, for those raw open wounds to be just as willingly shared in reverse, for their trust to mean exactly as they intended it.
he sighs against his lips, almost in relief, be it from the kiss itself or simply the accumulation of everything else building up to this moment. his fingers clutch tighter now, low at his back, digging against the fabric to grip at the muscle beneath β craving touch, contact, closeness β pulling him in until he can't be pulled any closer. it's the answer to his request β stay here tonight β as he nestles his chest in tightly, mouth meeting mouth to match equal yearning, making it clear that he has no intentions on going anywhere. ]