Chapter Text
It had been two weeks since the breakup, and Sanji found himself at the beach on a Tuesday, sitting in a foldout chair and sunbathing in short swim trunks. It was hot, as it should be in the deep summer, and the perfect weather for a sweaty cigarette, which he had as he watched waves lick the shore, ebbing and flowing. It was around 2 PM, and the sun had just passed its highest point, meaning it would get hotter for a couple more hours. There weren’t that many people around, as it was a weekday, and he had chosen a fairly secluded area to sit.
This was supposed to be their honeymoon, but the fucker had cheated during his bachelor party, which was so cliché that it made Sanji want to puke when one of their mutual friends told him. Supposedly, there was a stripper, then Ace disappeared with him and left sloppy evidence– a used condom in the garbage can that Marco couldn’t ignore, which Sanji was thankful for.
But, there went four years, and a lot of money that had gone into planning a wedding. This was his measly compensation for it all. He got to keep the honeymoon, so he took himself on vacation to the non-refundable all-inclusive resort they were supposed to go to in the tropics. Yesterday had been the first night, and he had spent the better part of his time crying and smoking cigarettes on the balcony. That was all the time he wanted to spend mourning, so today he set out to have a good time, and his resolve was rewarded with a day that was at least somewhat relaxing.
There were only so many things chain smoking couldn’t solve, at least temporarily.
By now, Sanji had been lazing on the beach for a few hours. He was starting to feel hungry and thought he might as well have a drink, too, since they had purchased the complete food-and-beverage package. He folded up his chair and went into the hotel, which was only a two-minute walk from the beach, and headed to his room, returning the rented chair to the equipment rental desk on his way.
He had planned to order room service, but when he got to the suite, he was hit with a wave of sadness, becoming aware of how alone he was now that he was single for the first time in so long, and that this was supposed to be his honeymoon. So, instead, he put on some clothes– a loose, light blue, short-sleeved button-up collared shirt, and some khaki-colored shorts that hit just past his mid-thigh– and headed to the hotel bar.
***
The bartender was a handsome, tan, buff guy with green hair, three dangly earrings in his left ear, and a somewhat cold, mysterious vibe. He wore a tight, blue tanktop, had a bandana tied on his big bicep, and a towel tucked into his belt, which held up a casual pair of dark gray straight-cut jeans. It had been a long time since Sanji treated himself to admiring other men, so he took the eye candy as a gift from the universe for his trials and tribulations, and flagged him over to order a drink. The bartender approached Sanji, who was sitting at the corner of the almost-empty bar.
“What can I do for you,” the bartender said, coolly. He was leaning over slightly on the bar and his nametag read “Zoro.”
“Do you have a cocktail menu?” Sanji asked.
“Yeah, here,” Zoro said, and reached down to pull a small book out from under the bar and hand it to Sanji. Every time he moved, Sanji noticed a different muscle of his flexing.
“Do you have any recommendations?” Sanji asked, opening the book and quickly skimming through the many options.
“What do you like?” Zoro asked. “I can do whatever.”
“Something sweet and boozy,” Sanji said.
“Sex on the Beach?” Zoro asked.
“If you’re offering,” Sanji said, giving him a playful grin. Maybe it was the loneliness, or the freedom of being on vacation, but he dished out the flirtation easily, surprising himself.
Zoro gave him a little chuckle, looking down for a second and then back up at Sanji, hands pressed against the ledge of the bar. Sanji looked at the striations in his forearms, then back up at his face.
“Leave the flattery to me, blondie,” Zoro said with a smirk.
“Yeah, you’re the one who gets paid for it, anyway,” Sanji said. “Sure, Sex on the Beach sounds good.”
“How about tomorrow?” Zoro asked, giving Sanji a wink and a click of his tongue before grabbing the towel on his belt and slinging it over his shoulder, turning on his heel.
Sanji rolled his eyes and set the cocktail menu aside, propping the side of his head up with a fist and watching Zoro make his drink. He admired the bartender’s finesse as he poured ice into a hurricane glass, his hands moving quickly to pour the makings of the cocktail into a shaker– more ice, a pour of vodka that looked heavy, peach Schnapps, orange juice, cranberry juice. Then, he gave it all a hard, ostentatious shake, catching Sanji’s gaze for just a moment as he was doing so, a subtle smirk skating across his lips. Sanji acknowledged him with a flutter of his eyelashes and a tired smile.
He watched Zoro pour the drink into the voluptuous glass and bring it to him, setting it on a napkin and putting a straw and a cocktail umbrella in it. He tipped his green head of hair at Sanji and said, “Enjoy.”
“Thank you,” Sanji said.
“Did you want to open a tab?” Zoro asked, taking the towel from his shoulder and wiping his wet hands on it before hooking it back into his belt.
“Drinks package, room 369,” Sanji said, picking the glass up and tipping it toward Zoro. “Cheers.”
“Cheers,” Zoro said, nodding his head once, tapping the ledge of the bar, and going back to his other customers.
Sanji sipped on his drink– it was certainly strong, and he made a mental note to give a generous tip to Zoro, who was now charming other people who had settled in at the bar. With nothing else to do, and no one else to entertain him, he watched the bartender, doing his best not to stare. It was hard not to, though, because Zoro had a certain way about him that commanded attention. And Sanji noticed he was all angles, sharp musculature and lines. Even his eyes were sharp at the corners, creasing slightly when he flashed his smirky grin at his customers.
Sanji watched Zoro make his rounds and get back to him. He sidled back up to the corner of the bar where Sanji sat and waved his hand toward the half-finished drink that Sanji held.
“You like it?” Zoro asked, his head tilting slightly, like a dog’s would.
“Yeah,” Sanji answered.
“Want another?” Zoro asked.
“Mm,” Sanji said, thinking about it, taking a large sip of the drink before putting it back down on the table.
“Maybe it’s time for some food?” Zoro suggested, his eyes scanning Sanji’s face. “Your cheeks are a little red.”
Sanji did tend to flush with a drink, and had always been a lightweight, so his slight buzz must have been visible to Zoro.
“Hm,” Sanji said. If anything, Zoro mentioning the redness of his cheeks made him blush harder. “Maybe.”
“Food menu,” Zoro said, dipping down again to produce a larger menu from behind the bar, handing it to Sanji. “We make a good pizza.”
“Mm,” Sanji hummed again, opening the menu and skimming through it, as he had with the cocktail menu. He could feel Zoro’s gaze fixed on him, but he tried to pay it no mind, trying to focus on the list of bar food available for order. Then, Zoro commanded his attention.
“You here alone?” Zoro asked, suddenly, directly. Sanji looked up at him, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“Yeah,” Sanji answered.
“Just wondering,” Zoro said.
“Wondering what?” Sanji asked. A moment of hesitation slipped between the two of them as they held each other’s gazes.
“Why someone as cute as you would be here alone,” Zoro said, shrugging. It seemed like an earnest question, but Sanji didn’t entertain it.
“Oh, please,” Sanji said, shaking his head. “I’ve already decided to tip you, so you don’t need to say all that.”
“I’m serious,” Zoro said. He crossed his arms over his big chest, his biceps becoming prominent.
Sanji didn’t know how to answer. He blinked up at the bartender and shrugged.
“This was supposed to be my honeymoon,” Sanji said. He had nothing to lose by being honest. Zoro’s eyebrows raised.
“Sorry to hear,” Zoro said. It was clear to Sanji that Zoro didn’t know what else to say, if there was anything else to say.
“Don’t be,” Sanji said. “He was a dick, and it’s for the better.”
“Right,” Zoro said, nodding firmly, his eyes softening toward Sanji.
“Anyway, I guess I’ll do the pizza,” Sanji said. “And I’ll go out for a smoke, so I’ll be right back.”
“Sure,” Zoro said, then he asked again. “Did you want another drink?”
Sanji looked at his drink, which was sweating onto the wooden surface of the bar. He picked up the glass, finished whatever watered-down mess was left in it, and looked up at Zoro, giving him a small nod. Zoro nodded back, took the glass, and gave him a sideways smile, his head tilting and his left eye creasing as he did so.
Then, Sanji went outside to have a cigarette. It was even hotter now than it had been earlier, a sheen of sweat immediately covering his skin. He unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt and pulled at his collar to fan his body. As he smoked, he thought about the breakup, the bartender, and loneliness– and while the cigarette gave his head the tickling rush he needed to distract him enough from his reality, he definitely needed another drink. So he quickly smoked down what was left of his Marlboro Red and made his way back to the bar, taking the seat he had been at and making eye contact with Zoro, who immediately got started on making another Sex on the Beach.
There was the finesse again, and it was evident that Zoro knew that Sanji was watching him, because this time, he put on even more of a show, giving the bottles of liquor tosses here and there, free-pouring another heavy, 6-count serving of vodka into the shaker, and looking directly into Sanji’s eyes with his sharp gaze as he started to shake the drink vigorously, his tongue peeking out at the corner of his mouth. Then, he looked away to pour the drink into its glass, and the moment ended, but Sanji kept staring. At some point, as he watched Zoro’s performance, he had become slack-jawed and parched, but he had no clue when. He closed his mouth, licked his lips, and looked down.
When Zoro approached him again with his second drink, Sanji looked up at him through his bangs and said, “Thanks.”
“Sure thing, blondie,” Zoro said, placing a new napkin down on the bar and the glass on top of it, again placing a straw and a cocktail umbrella in the drink and pushing it toward Sanji. “Pizza should be out in a second.”
“Okay,” Sanji said, picking the glass up and watching Zoro walk away again. The bar was starting to fill up with people, mostly couples and groups of friends. Sanji noticed that he was the only one alone, but he didn’t have the wherewithal to feel self-conscious about it, instead taking the opportunity to people-watch, or Zoro-watch, as he sipped on his drink without thinking, the liquor making his body hum.
He watched Zoro work the growing crowd, flashing his charismatic smile and showily making drinks in such a way that he was also showing off his ample musculature. He noticed that, between his other customers, Zoro would look over at him with an indiscernible, noncommittal expression, usually for less than a second. Sanji couldn’t tell what it meant, but every time they locked eyes, he felt redness creeping up on his face. For now, he could blame the booze.
At some point, the pizza arrived, brought over to where Sanji was sitting by someone who emerged from some kitchen somewhere. It was certainly bar food, but it would suffice. By now, Sanji needed something in his stomach to soak up the alcohol he was pouring into his body; otherwise, he would get too drunk too fast and make a fool of himself. Zoro had been right to suggest food to him.
Sanji ate the pizza at a moderate pace and finished his second drink along with it, feeling fuller and looser than he had when he sat down. And, Zoro, an ever-attentive bartender, found his way back to Sanji in the corner.
“Enjoyed it?” Zoro asked, starting to clear the surface in front of Sanji, placing his plate somewhere under the bar.
“I needed it,” Sanji said, not really answering the question. Zoro gave him a chuckle. He was leaning against the bar with his hands again, his shoulders shrugged up to his ears. The man had terrible posture, but the way he used his muscles certainly made up for it.
“Want another?” Zoro asked, picking up Sanji’s second empty glass.
“I don’t think I should,” Sanji said, already feeling quite tipsy and light. What he really wanted now was another smoke.
“Yeah, okay,” Zoro said, taking his glass, too. Then, another moment of hesitation. “How long are you here for?”
“A few more days,” Sanji answered.
“Hm,” Zoro said. He looked Sanji up and down, and Sanji didn’t quite know how to read it.
So, Sanji asked, “Why?”
“Are you looking for company?”
“What do you mean?” Sanji asked.
Zoro tipped his head to the side. This was the first time Sanji had felt Zoro was at a loss for what to say.
“I mean,” Zoro started, the words seeming to come to him as he continued. “I have a couple of days off after tonight.”
It was a bit of a non-answer, but Sanji understood what the bartender meant. He didn’t say anything, not sure what to do next. It had been a long time since he had been with a man other than his ex, and he had never been the type to cruise or get cruised, but it seemed like that was what was happening right now. It was a stroke of fate, he supposed, that he was in this position– and if he weren’t so aware of his reality, he might’ve felt luckier than he actually did. Regardless, company was welcome right now, and would continue to distract him from all other things.
“Unless I misread the situation,” Zoro said suddenly, pulling Sanji from his thoughts.
He hadn’t. They had been looking at each other all night, and there was certainly something like tension brewing between the two of them. Sanji glanced to the left and to the right, suddenly becoming quite aware of the public nature of this conversation. Then he looked up at Zoro again, who was staring at him. It was now Sanji’s turn to look him up and down, scanning his chiseled face, his broad neck and shoulders, and the rest of his big, toned body. His tan skin, his large hands, the way his blue tank top clung to the divots in his torso, suggesting more muscle to be discovered. Sanji was parched again, and looked back up at Zoro’s face, which now wore a keen smile, the bar’s low lighting making him look kind of devious.
“When does your shift end?” Sanji asked.
“At 6,” Zoro said.
“Come find me then,” Sanji said, emboldened by the drinks he had had. “Room 369.”
“Yeah, okay,” Zoro said. His smile didn’t leave his lips once, and Sanji returned it before getting up, pulling his wallet from his pocket, and leaving a $20 tip on the table, retreating to his room.