Chapter Text
It was years, literally years ago, that he had fallen in love with someone…if you could have called it that at the age of fifteen - Zoro doubted it.
At that time it was a guy he’d met at a bar. He was handsome and smart and strong! Not a swordsman, but an axefighter and how he could handle that axe. It wasn't more than a crush, really. But they had their shared sweet time…days laughing and hunting down pirates and nights of hot moans and needy whines. It didn't end well. The guy - Zoro didn't even remember his name at that point - ended on the wrong side of his sword, after hurting a kid and its mother for money. Yes, they both were bounty hunters, but if you don't have a moral code what made you different from the monsters you’re hunting?
So Zoro ended his life like he had ended the life of that mother and kid…but with much more pain!
After that some shit went down and he made a promise to himself to never catch feelings again. It all went well…until it suddenly didn't anymore.
He always thought he was good at not catching feelings, despite platonic ones. There were two ways he always counted on. First, he avoided anyone he could fall in love with, which wasn’t easy to find in the first place. He didn’t want some weak partner, never had! If he‘d love someone, that person had to be at least equal to him. Second, walk away if feelings start to rise. It was easy; being a loner had its many comforts, and he was good at it. Nothing prepared him for the gut punch he felt as a certain someone joined Luffy’s crew.
It wasn’t love at first sight - that wasn’t his nature. It was like his way of making friends. They had to earn it…had to prove that it wasn’t a one-sided game. Apart from that, this serious crush was very much one-sided. It took some time for the feelings to rise and some more for him to interpret them correctly or to allow himself to recognize them as romantic feelings. What made it all worse was the fact that the one being the centerpiece of his love-sick mind was no other than the love-sick cook himself!
Groaning, Zoro let his head hit the wall behind him. Why? Why did it have to be Sanji? He wasn't angry at himself for loving a man - he never understood why some people would call that a sickness…it was as normal as breathing! Then again, he always thought and was a little differently in this kind of matter.
Running a hand through his hair, Zoro closed his eyes and tried to bottle up this warmth that had grown in his stomach as Sanji had pushed a bowl of rice and meat against his chest.
“I know you haven't eaten lunch, being up in the crown’s nest for hours, you idiotic muscle-obsessed Marimo.”
Zoro barked a half-hearted remark - some variation of “at least I have muscles” - took the bowl and hid on the deck behind the kitchen. His back pressed against the wall, he looked down between his legs where he’d placed the food. Again, the question of “why” appeared in his mind. He had to do something about it! But what? Picking unnecessary fights with the cook wasn't working, really. It only added to the feelings. Zoro was a simple man - drawn in by strength, and Sanji was strong. He knew that firsthand, and he loved every second of their fights. Sometimes, he got so worked up that he had to search for a private place to get some release.
Maybe if he ignored them, the feelings would disappear? Maybe…
“Fuck it,” Zoro mumbled, taking the first bite and eating it with a low moan - Sanji’s food was the best, even if he’d never admit it in front of the cook.