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In the three years Zoro had known Zeff, he’d probably spoken to the man one on one a whopping five or so times. It had always been an unspoken agreement that the two men would only interact with each other when Sanji was present, lest they both end up sitting in awkward silence or attempt, god forbid, small talk.
That peaceful agreement came to a tragic end as Zoro made his way inside the Baratie, slipping in the back door and dodging an affronted Patty. The old chef was busy at the stove, not pausing his work even as his eyes landed on the uninvited guest.
“Eggplant’s not here.” He grunted, flipping the mass of sizzling vegetables.
Zoro knew that. He had orchestrated Sanji not being present by getting Nami (read; bribing her) to occupy the blonde with shopping. They’d be busy for a good couple hours, and as far as Sanji knew, his green boyfriend was lounging at home in an unconscious state. He currently wished he was.
“Yeah, came for you actually.” The swordsman said, ignoring the glares at his back.
The other chefs never did like him much, always claiming he was ‘unhygienic’ and ‘a health risk for the kitchen’.
Zeff paused in his cooking to neatly turn off the flame, move the pan, and fully turn to face Zoro. He narrowed his eyes at the younger man, crossing his arms in a way that usually sent grown men running.
“Why?” He asked suspiciously, giving Zoro a critical once over.
The swordsman swallowed, gathering his nerves for the tenth time that day.
“Can we talk in private?”
Zeff’s brows shot up for a split second, before returning to a furrowed position to complete his usual scowl. He tapped his prosthetic foot on the floor for a good couple of seconds before turning to bark at Carne to plate the rest of the vegetables. Then, without another word, made his way out of the kitchen.
Zoro followed, taking a few deep breaths. The silence between them as they walked wasn't helping much, nor was the way the older chef threw open his office door like he was intending to break the wall. The privacy was appreciated though, and as Zoro closed the door behind them he took one final deep inhalation, hardening his resolve.
“Finally ready to pop the big question then?” Zeff said, sitting down heavily in his chair.
Zoro promptly began choking on air, turning a bit too quickly and colliding with the desk in the narrow room. Groaning and coughing, he rubbed at his newly bruised kneecap.
“Was wondering when the hell you were gonna get to it.” The chef continued, teasing his mustache. “Wasn't sure you’d be the type to ask the father for permission though. Can’t say you’re my first choice for in-laws but you’ll do.”
Slightly dazed, out of breath, and freshly injured, Zoro slumped down into the available chair before Zeff. He had several comments and questions, but decided to save them all for later and just get to the point. A quick death was preferable, after all.
“Not proposing yet. Need your help first.” He grunted, voice still a little raw from the choking.
Zeff’s face made a dramatic shift from slightly pleased to fairly murderous, and he leaned forward in his chair.
“You’re not proposing to eggplant?” He practically growled, making the statement sound very threatening.
“ Yet .” Zoro stressed, instinctively leaning away from the other man. “Need to get the gift first. Not gonna propose with a ring.”
Zeff leaned back at that, expressions going from fierce aggression to slight curiosity. Zoro released a breath, relaxing his muscles.
“Ah. And you want my help with this gift.” The head chef grunted, crossing his arms once more. “What, can't think of something on your own? Just get the rings.”
“No, it's- chef stuff.” Zoro explained, wincing. The conversation was not going very smoothly. “I know what I’m getting him, need your help to pick it out though.”
Zeff once again gave him a careful once over, then raised a brow in a clear indication of go on .
Right. Once more the swordsman took a breath, letting it out slowly.
“I want to buy the cook a restaurant.”
—
Three years was plenty of time for Zoro to know he wanted to marry Sanji. Hell, a few months had been enough time for him to know that. But life got in the way like it usually did, and the swordsman wanted to make a name for himself in the kendo world, have something to say for himself before he popped the big question. The cook had been playing with the idea of leaving the Baratie and starting his own place since the day Zoro had met him, and Zoro figured that, too, was a thing that required and deserved more attention than marriage.
But Sanji never made any drastic headway with his dream, finances posing the biggest challenge. His salary at Zeff’s restaurant was shit because Zeff was nearly broke, always giving away food that cost top dollar to get ingredients for. He was still paying off the debt for the old man’s new prosthetic too, something Zeff sure as hell didn't know about. The bank didn't like his profile because he had never gone to college, and his credit was shit because of an incident involving Luffy and a rented car. So while Zoro upped his ranking and won competitions, he watched the cook daydream from afar over the for sale page for local real estate.
Zoro had money. He’d always had money. Having a weird as hell millionaire father would do that, and Mihawk had never given a shit what his son did with his inheritance so long as it wasn't all spent on alcohol. Well, if it was wine he’d probably be perfectly fine with that.
Put two and two together and the swordsman figured why not buy Sanji the place himself? The cook could get his show on the road, and the swordsman could get proposing. Real happily ever after stuff for the making. The only problem would be getting Sanji to accept a gift that size.
Then it came to him- just propose with the building . Can’t say no to a gift if it means saying no to the question. Zoro had the guy cornered, all exits covered.
“There’s mold under the sinks, you’re not buying this shithole.” Zeff said, ignoring the affronted noise of the real estate agent.
Now all Zoro had to do was survive the unavoidable bonding time with his future father-in-law, and hope the man didn't get them both blacklisted by every real estate office in the city.
“The high ceilings more than make up for a small stain.” The agent said, hands on hips.
“It's mold . I’m not dealing with that, I already got a walking fungus problem for a son-in-law.” Zeff fired back, gesturing to Zoro’s hair.
The swordsman closed his one eye, seeking patience he absolutely did not have.
“All the places we’re looking at are on the harbor. They all probably have mold.” Zoro pointed out, looking around again.
He was shit for stuff like this, Sanji always being the one to make the more ascetic decisions in his life. Their entire apartment was organized, furnished, and even painted to the cook’s preferences, and that was how Zoro liked it. He had a comfortable couch, a nook for his workouts, and a king sized bed to share with his boyfriend. Anything else didn't matter to him.
“Are you an idiot?” Zeff asked, for roughly the hundredth time that day. “You can't have mold in a commercial kitchen.”
“Fine, so this place is out.” Zoro grunted. That was one place down at least.
“No, weren’t you listening? If the trash removal for the district is cheap, we can afford to replace the wall.” Zeff snapped.
The swordsman decided to call it for the day, knowing the old man would only get progressively grumpier the longer things went on for. He checked his phone, double checking that Usopp still had Sanji occupied.
Sniperking: hey so Luffy broke a lamp
Sniperking: when will u be back again?
Sniperking: Sanji might kill Luffy plz come back
Sniperking: Luffy stained the coffee table I can't hold Sanji back for long plz hurry
Zoro sighed, pocketing the device and turning back to Zeff. He seemed content trying to make the real estate agent cry, and the swordsman mentally crossed off the current location. They’d have to try again on another day, preferably one where Usopp didn't bring Luffy along for cook watch.
—
“How’s the hunt going?” Nami asked, plopping down beside him on the couch.
Zoro checked over his shoulder, making sure Sanji was still engaged in conversation with Vivi in the kitchen. He turned back to the redhead, giving her a grimace.
“That bad huh?” She said, laughing quietly. “How many places have you seen so far?”
Honestly, Zoro didn't really know. It felt like every other day he was getting thrown around by the old chef as they ran across the city to look at potential hits. The two of them didn't exactly make a great pair as clients either; Zeff as the crotchety old asshole he was and Zoro as the unhelpful and unwilling witness to the head chef’s non stop complaining. To put simply, neither of them really knew what they were looking for.
“Too many.” Zoro answered. “At this rate it’ll be another year before the wedding.”
The two friends sat together in comfortable silence, listening to the chatter of their respective romantic partners gush about the latest cake trends. Vivi laughed at something the cook said, the two of them soon dissolving into soft chuckles. Zoro didn't need to look to know that Sanji wore a wide smile, eyes gently crinkled from mirth. His back was probably curved in a slight hunch, the remnants of a life long self consciousness over how he looked when he laughed, even though he had never been anything other than beautiful.
“You’ve got that dopey look on your face again. It's gross.” Nami whispered, hiding her own smile as she took a sip of Zoro’s beer.
He grunted, stealing his drink back. Glancing over his shoulder once more to check that Sanji was still busy, he turned back to Nami.
“This is still a good idea, right?” He asked quietly, clutching the bottle in his hands with too much force. He flicked his eye away, suddenly feeling awkward. “I mean, I know he won't laugh in my face or anything, but if he says no-,”
“Stop.” Nami said firmly, holding up a hand. “How long have you known Sanji?”
Zoro stared at the hand. “Three years.”
“And how long have I known Sanji?”
Zoro drew a blank.
“ Five years, idiot.” The she said, rolling her eyes. “So, based on experience, who here knows him better? Me or you?”
That was a point that could be argued, and the swordsman was prepared to do so. Nami pressed her palm to his face, stopping him before he could even open his mouth.
“Shut up. My point is, that guy over there talking about frosting like it's his religion? He’s crazy about you. Probably because you drive him crazy, but you do it in a good way. Most of the time. Learn to use a coaster by the way, half his complaints are about that.” She said.
He batted her hand away, scowling. His neck and ears were hot though, embarrassed because he knew she was right. The cook and him had a solid history and a solid foundation, they even knew how to talk about shit now. When they said I love you to each other it was second nature, easy as breathing, and the words hung in the air and stuck to their skin and stayed with them all throughout the day.
“I would have killed you and hid your body a long time ago if I thought you didn't make him stupidly happy, Zoro.” Nami continued, her tone much more gentle. She offered him a small smile, and he returned it.
“Yeah, well. He makes me happy too.” He muttered helplessly, as if that wasn't the most obvious thing in the world.
—
“The windows are too big. It’ll cost a fortune to heat in winter.” Zeff grumbled, eyeing the wooden floors like they had insulted his mother. He kicked at them a bit, probably testing something the swordsman couldn't fathom.
Zoro didn't mind the place. Out of all the buildings they had seen recently, he actually somewhat liked the one they were currently in, the big windows only being a plus to him.
It wasn't like the heating bill would be an issue. Even if Zoro didn't cover it, which he easily could, he had no doubt in his mind that Sanji’s restaurant would be a huge success. The Barate had always thrived thanks to the young chef, and he had stacked up enough personal reviews that the news of his new place would grab attention.
“Yes, well, the natural lighting is nice, isn’t it?” The real estate agent tried tiredly, no doubt beyond fed up with the duo.
“Hmph. Could be better.” Zeff grunted back, still kicking at the floor.
Zoro rolled his eye, continuing to walk around. The kitchen lay a bit beyond, still unseen and no doubt far below all of Zeff’s criteria, and the swordsman decided to investigate it before it was ruined by the old man.
Opening the slightly aged door, he peeked inside. Ovens, counters, sinks- all the same as every other place they’d seen. What caught Zoro’s eye though was the wall.
It was nearly the exact same color as the cook’s eyes, that soft sky blue that had easily become an association with home and good food. In the daylight it was a cheerful, sweet color, and in the evening dusk it was comforting and soft. After three days of knowing Sanji, it had become Zoro’s favorite color, and it had stayed that way ever since.
“Alright, let's get this over with-,”
“I want this place.” Zoro said, interrupting Zeff from his routine of criticism.
The head chef stared at him, then looked around, obviously searching for whatever the younger man saw. The agent walked in as well, apprehensively watching Zeff.
“This is the one?” The old man asked, looking seriously at Zoro.
The swordsman looked around again, crossing his arms. He still didn't know jack shit about kitchens or restaurants or even buildings, but he liked it. He liked the large windows with the view of the harbor, even if some of the glass had been cracked. He liked that the floors were old wood like the planks of a boat. There was a little back door that he could see himself using to check in on Sanji and steal a kiss, those blue walls matching his potentially-future-husband’s eyes.
“Yeah, I want it.” Zoro said again, nodding.
The agent dropped their clipboard, clearly not expecting that. He scrambled to pick it up, stammering something about paperwork and neighborhoods.
“Alright. But I’m checking for mold first.” Zeff grunted, trotting over to the sinks.
“But I’m right here.” Zoro called after him, feeling enormously pleased at the bark of laughter he got in return.
—
“I still can't believe this is happening.” Usopp muttered, adjusting the wig on Luffy’s head. “I mean, I can believe it, I knew it would, but like. It's happening , y’know?”
Zoro did know. He knew very much so. He couldn't stop checking his pocket, looking at the little black box Nami had gotten him for the key. Last night he’d been unable to sleep, getting up carefully so as not to disturb Sanji, wandering up and down their apartment and fiddling with that key.
The final paperwork had gone through without issue, and the deed to the building was officially under his name. Mihawk had called to comment on the large withdrawal of funds, only to declare that he didn't really care, but he approved wholeheartedly of Sanji as his son-in-law. Zeff had no doubt been blabbing on the phone to him again, the traitor.
Either way, the building was Zoro’s to do with as he pleased. His friends had gotten together to help brainstorm the actual proposal, and had ended up with a frankly convoluted plan involving disguises. Hence Luffy in a wig.
“I still think we should stick Luffy in the kitchen, just to be safe.” Nami said, looking at the wig with disapproval.
“He’d eat everything.” Usopp pointed out. “Or Zeff would kill him for trying to eat everything.”
“I wouldn't eat everything .” Luffy whined, trying on a bright blue wig next.
“Can I pretend to be your waiter?” Chopper asked, taking off his hat to join in on the wig business.
“Sanji would recognize you.” Zoro muttered, once again pulling out the box to open it and stare at the key. God, was he being stupid? Should he have gotten the rings first?
“When are we even doing this?” Nami asked, bringing them all back on track. “Robin needs a heads up if she has to get time off, and Franky’s gonna need a hell of a disguise to not look recognizable.”
Everyone turned to Zoro. Zoro tried not to stare at the key again.
“Next weekend?” He said slowly, thinking. “The cook actually kept mentioning that he was free then. I think he wanted to go on a date anyway.”
Everyone continued to stare at him, and he shifted in his seat. Usopp gave Nami a pointed look, and she sighed heavily.
“Lemme guess. You have no idea what next weekend is.” She said flatly.
The swordsman frowned, trying to remember. No one’s birthday, he was sure of it, and it felt like they’d only just been celebrating New Years. He shrugged.
“Zoro, next weekend is Valentine’s Day.” Usopp said slowly, dropping that particular bomb rather politely.
Fuck. Valentine’s Day, aka the holiday Sanji loved but always pretended to not care about because Zoro didn't care about it. The swordsman still felt guilty over last year’s celebration, where he had gotten back to the apartment late from a competition several hours away, nothing but a store-bought box of chocolate to show for it. Not that the cook had complained, he’d been sweet and congratulated the swordsman on his win, but Zoro knew Sanji had wanted more.
On the other hand though, giving his boyfriend a restaurant on Valentine’s Day while also proposing seemed like a pretty good way of making up for that.
“Oh my god,” Nami muttered. “He wants to propose on Valentine’s Day.”
“That….could actually be super cute.” Usopp muttered back, removing the ugly blue wig from Luffy’s head.
“And I can pretend to be their waiter!” Luffy cried, slapping a fake mustache on his face.
Nami and Usopp attempted to wrestle the thing off of him, loudly explaining how badly that would go, but Zoro had stopped listening. Would it be overkill to propose on such a mushy holiday? Probably. Would the cook love it? Also probably. Would he tease Zoro over it mercilessly for the rest of their matrimonial life? No doubt. All in all, it seemed like a win.
“I’ll hide near your table, in case Sanji has a heart attack or faints.” Chopper said, picking up the blue wig. He tried it on, looking utterly ridiculous.
“Thanks, Chopper.” Zoro said, patting him on the head, ugly wig and all.
—
Across the table, Sanji perused the fake menu, crossing his legs form where he sat on a hastily borrowed chair. The lighting was low enough that he hadn’t noticed that their tablecloth was actually a curtain at least, but if he turned around and looked hard at the people seated just a bit away, he would definitely notice it was Vivi in a wig.
“I still can't believe you got a reservation at a brand new restaurant for Valentine's day.” The cook said, looking up from under his lashes at Zoro. “I haven’t even heard of this place. How the hell did you find it?”
Zoro shrugged, taking a sip of wine to hide his grimace. He was getting nervous as hell, his nerves fried from having to keep up the lie all week. He’d never been any good at keeping secrets, had never really had a reason to. Now he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from blurting out something stupid, like the fact that Zeff was in the back cooking their food and pretending to be the brand new chef of the brand new restaurant.
“Well, whatever. It’s nice to have a night out, I feel like I haven’t seen much of you recently.” Sanji continued, reaching out to take Zoro’s hand across the table.
Guilt churned in the swordsman’s stomach, but he swallowed it down. Soon enough he’d be able to explain his absence in the past weeks at least.
“Yeah.” Zoro replied, relaxing a bit as the warm touch settled something in his chest. “Missed you.”
Sanji smiled softly, the little candle on the table dancing in his one visible eye. They really hadn’t spent enough time together recently, all Zoro’s fault he knew, but if things went well tonight he’d never have a reason to separate himself again.
“Your food, sirs.”
Sanji and Zoro looked up to thank their waiter who was not a waiter, just some guy Luffy knew who Nami vouched for. He placed the plates down on the table before skittering away, and the swordsman prayed Sanji wouldn't recognize the dishware from their own home.
The cook was far more focused on the food though, and looking around at the place. His eyes lingered on the large windows, flicking up to the ceilings and back around to the front door. Out of the corner of his eye Zoro noticed Nami giving him a covert thumbs up, her brown wig doing a good job of disguising her.
“This place is nice.” The blonde murmured, eyes still roaming around. “Crown molding is kind of tacky, but not awful.”
Zoro didn't know what that was, but his heart soared at the small compliment.
“Yeah?” He pressed, leaning forward on the table. “You like the windows?”
Sanji gave him an odd look, but smiled nonetheless.
“Sure, they’re pretty. Great view of the water.”
“I thought so too.” Zoro replied, nearly breathless with relief. He hadn’t realized just how anxious he’d been about the cook’s opinion of the place until now.
He received another odd look for the words, but thankfully no comment. Instead, Sanji tucked into his meal, pausing after a few bites to stare at it.
“The chef knows what they’re doing. Damn, been a while since the harbor has gotten someone decent.”
Zoro swallowed, figuring now was a good a time as any. Wasn't like he could keep the charade up for much longer, considering Luffy was probably almost out of food and bound to cause some sort of scene. That, or Sanji would notice that the huge man in a trench coat and sunglasses a few tables away was just Franky wearing pants for once.
“Cook.” He began, cleaning his throat a little. “You know I love you, right?”
Sanji paused in his eating to look up at Zoro, raising a brow. There was a noticeable blush on his face though, still as easy to bring out as it had been three years ago.
“Yeah, I love you too.” He replied quietly. “You getting all sappy on me for Valentine's day, marimo?”
Zoro smiled, remembering the holiday. He really didn't give a shit about it, but he didn't hate the idea of his anniversary being on it either. A good a way as any to remember it, he supposed.
“Just making sure. Sometimes I don't know if I say it enough.”
Sanji’s eyes softened, his smile somehow growing sweeter.
“You don't always need to.” He murmured.
“I know, but it's still important that you hear it.” Zoro replied “I want you to know that I love you every day. I want you to know it for the rest of our lives.”
At that he stood up, carefully walking around the table to stand before Sanji. He looked confused, moving to rise as well for a moment before the swordsman held him back, lowering himself to once knee.
Sanji’s face shifted from confused, to shocked, to very shocked. He very slowly put down his fork, staring at Zoro with wide eyes.
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this for weeks, and I still don't know if I’m making any sense, but you mean so much to me, cook, and that means that the things that matter to you matter to me. I want to give you the things you want. I want to help you in any way I can because I care about you so much, and you deserve the world.”
Carefully, Zoro pulled out the little black box, holding it in front of him. Sanji stared at it, completely frozen in shock still.
“You are the most selfless person I know, Sanji. So I’ve decided to be a little selfish for myself and for you.”
He flicked open the lid, revealing the simple key nestled in the velvet.
“Will you marry me?”
The question was met with a shuddering breath, and slowly, carefully, Sanji reached out for the box. Zoro placed it in his hands, not yet getting up.
“This is…what is this?” Sanji whispered, looking at the key in quiet awe before turning back to Zoro.
“The key to the building.” The swordsman replied softly. “It’s yours, if you want it.”
“But- the people…” Sanji said, looking around.
“All fake. Zeff’s in the back, he’s the one who cooked dinner.”
The cook whipped his head back to stare at the food, mouth slightly ajar.
“But- but the reservation. ” Sanji stuttered, hands fluttering. “What the fuck .”
He looked back down at Zoro, seeming to realize all over again that his partner was kneeling in front of him, having asked a rather large question.
“You did not just propose to me with a building .” He breathed, reaching out. “No one is that ridiculous. You did not buy me a building, and then propose to me with it.”
“I did, I am, and I’m still waiting for an answer by the way.” Zoro replied easily, much more calmly than he felt.
His answer was Sanji grabbing him by the front of his shirt and hauling him into a kiss, fingers shaking slightly and lips curved up in a smile that Zoro felt all along his bones. He eagerly returned the kiss, wrapping his arms around the other man’s waist as they both stood.
A smattering of applause and then cheers grew around the room, the sound of a door bursting open. A champagne bottle popped, a dish broke, someone’s chair fell over. All of it was just background noise to the swordsman, his focus entirely on the man in his arms, smiling into the kiss even as a few tears made it down his cheek.
“I can't believe you, tricking me like that.” Sanji breathed, moving to kiss Zoro on his cheek. “How am I supposed to ever top this, huh?”
“Just say yes, idiot.” Zoro huffed, moving to connect their lips once more.
“ You’re the idiot, going around buying buildings.” The cook laughed. “Of course I’ll marry you. As if that was ever a question.”
Finally getting the answer he wanted, the swordsman grinned, lifting his fiancé a little off the ground. He placed one final, gentle kiss on Sanji’s brow, moving so their friends could finally join them and offer congratulations.
“Happy Valentines Day, cook.” He whispered, their hands clasping together. The cool touch of metal between their palms, growing warm.