New Life

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New Life
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The sandy road was still damp from the rain the night before, gritty but packed down enough that it hadn't turned to mud. The early morning sun caught droplets of dew on the grass on either side, making them sparkle with diamond drops of light. Sanji thought it made the ground look like an ocean, twinkling depths of green spanning out to the beach and the real water beyond.

There was a decided spring to his step as he walked down the way to the dojo from the Torakaran Market. A cigarette hung from his lips, trailing smoke up to the blue sky. There was a slight clinking as his recent purchase swung with his step, hanging in a bag from his left wrist.

Sanji lifted his lips in a smile. If anyone were there to see, they would have commented that his face had lit up in the way it had used to when he talked of his dreams.

These days, it was almost as familiar on him as his black suit.

The storm had broken the night before, the dew on the ground the remains of the spinoff that had hit the island hard in the past week. Now that it was over, however, it meant a long stretch of blissful sun for the inner sanctum of All Blue, and a strong stream of customers for Sanji's restaurant.

It had been nearly half a year since Luffy and his now-larger crew had departed, but that morning word of them had finally come by bird. His former nakama would be there by nightfall, dining in the Restaurant of Three Swords.

If he squinted out across the water, he could already see a speck of a ship on the horizon. It was no matter he couldn't make out the sails. He instinctively knew it was the right one.

His friends coming home.

Sanji grinned again and walked up the steps to the dojo. Then lost his smile and stopped in his tracks, dropping his cigarette to the dirt path. He ground it beneath his heel and kicked it into the grass.

He drew in a deep breath. From inside the rhythm of small feet doing katas pounded on the wood floor, punctuated by loud commands and shouted agreement. Zoro was still teaching his beginners.

He fidgeted, straightening his already immaculate suit and making sure his blond hair was in place. He wished it wasn't so warm already, he felt like he was sweaty and unkempt from the walk.

Finally he steeled himself and pushed open the door, kicking off his shoes before going inside. He shut it silently and stood by the edge, waiting patiently for the class to finish.

Zoro hadn't noticed him enter, leading his young students through the basic motions of swordplay. A thin sheen of sweat had beaded on his forhead, and the youngsters were in far worse shape than he.

Looked like someone had woken up with a lot of energy, Sanji grinned to himself.

Finally, Zoro straightened. "Okay," He said. "That's enough for today. Go home and practice each of those fifteen times before next class."

A chorus of "Yes, master!" rang out, followed by deep bows. Zoro dismissed them.

Sanji caught the small smile at the corner of the swordsman's mouth, something he was sure his students were unaware of. They must have done well today.

The kids caught sight of Sanji as they ran for the door, snickering and poking each other good naturedly. Sanji jiggled the bag on his hand and gave them a wink, which prompted them to giggle uncontrollably. They knew a present when they saw one.

Finally, Zoro looked up. He froze when he saw Sanji, then broke into a wide grin. He sheathed his sword and hung it lovingly on the wall before jogging across the floor.

"Little early for you, isn't it, cook?" Zoro smirked.

"I thought that was my line, marimo."

"You've gotten soft in your old age. Living a life of luxury." Zoro's grin turned a little more feral. "I've just gotten harder."

Sanji raised a curled eyebrow at him. That was a line if he'd ever heard one. "Don't you have a class?" He asked, smirking at the invitation.

"Off for the next few hours." Zoro had advanced, backing Sanji into the wall. His hands ran down Sanji's arms to his wrists, his head dipping forward to his neck. His lips dragged a hot trail down his throat.

There was a crinkle as Zoro discovered the bag. "What's this?"

It took Sanji a second to remember. When he did, he gasped, shoving Zoro backwards a step. "I -" Suddenly, he wasn't so sure it was a good idea as it had seemed.

Zoro examined him, frowning slightly. "What're you up to?"

Sanji forced a smirk and took a step forward, trying to resume where they had left off. He grabbed Zoro's head and pressed his lips to his.

"Mmf-" Zoro said, then gripped Sanji over the ears, forcing space between them. "Sanji..." he growled.

Fine, fuck it.

Sanji swallowed thickly. "Just - it doesn't mean anything. I mean, it does. To me. But it's okay if it doesn't to you, you don't have to -"

"What the hell are you going on about?" Zoro snapped.

"Oi, dumbass, let me finish!" Sanji glared at him.

The two men faced each other for a moment, Sanji nervous as hell and Zoro just looking pissed.

Sanji dropped to his knees.

Zoro almost took a step back, but Sanji grabbed him by his left wrist. Plunging a hand in his bag, he swiftly brought his purchase out.

Zoro's face went blank, staring down at what Sanji held.

Sanji lips thinned. "Like I said, it doesn't matter - I mean, it does - you can say no -"

Zoro, no longer expressionless, took the two, crystal-blue stone rings from Sanji's palm. One he slipped onto Sanji's finger. The other he slid onto his own.

Zoro reached down and drew a line on Sanji's forarm, tracing the ghost of a scar. The mate to his own.

"It doesn't change anything," he said softly. "But it does mean something."

"Show me," Sanji challenged, their eyes meeting. Laughter, hope, memory and promise. Tension, balance.

Love.

"Show me," he prompted again.

And falling to the floor with him, a tangle of legs and arms and heated friction, Zoro did.

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Fin.

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DId you really just read 21 chapters without commenting?

...yeah, I thought you didn't.

<3