Archive of Our Own

1.

Zoro's strong.  He's not gonna complain and make people think his injuries are bothering him.  Because they aren't.  Fuck off.

He's not going to tell Luffy he can't do something that's not hurting anybody.

And also Zoro's kind of curious.  How long will Luffy stay there?  How long can Zoro carry him?  He makes a low-effort game of it, seeing if Luffy can beat his previous record.  One day he carries Luffy around the whole afternoon, then when it's dinner time, the waiter snipes them like he's somebody's mom that they can't sit down to a meal like that.

"We can do what we want," Zoro says, kicking his chair around to sit in it backwards at the table.

"Yeah, we're pirates!" Luffy says, stretching out an arm to grab his plate from the table and hold it over Zoro's shoulder.  "I bet we can do this all day!  A whole twenty-four hours!  Right, Zoro?"

Zoro raises that bet to "Thirty-six," and holds up a fist.  Luffy knocks his own fist against it in agreement.

The waiter does that thing.  That twitchy bemused head shake thing he does when he's wildly confused over something really simple.  "He's...going to get crumbs in your hair?"

Luffy's noisy chewing by Zoro's ear goes suspiciously quiet.  A hand brushes at the back of his head.

So, okay, yeah, that's a good point.  But it's a point the waiter has made.  So Zoro glares at him and snaps, "My hair's none of your business."

Nami lets out a disgusted, "Ugh."

That's the most he and Nami have spoken to each other today.  Things between him and Nami have been strained ever since she left and then came back, and everyone else acts like it's all water under the bridge.  It's not for Zoro.  A mistrust has settled in.  Under his skin.  Something that he can see turning into a grudge if he lets it fester long enough, but also he doesn't see himself doing anything to stop it from festering.

It's annoying, because he...well, he doesn't miss her, because she's right there and also he's low level ticked at her.  So that's not it.

It's annoying, because she left.  That's what it is.

Across the table, Usopp leans forward and narrows his eyes down to slits.  Slowly, he asks.  "How will you take a piss?"

The rest of the table goes very still.

Except for Luffy who answers with his mouth full, "Don't worry about it."

Everyone remains very still.

Yeah.  No. 

Zoro stands up and shrugs his captain off his back. 

"Awww!"

Turning his chair back around, he reclaims his seat.

"Thank you, Usopp, for that bit of rationality," the waiter says, passing around drinks (which are water of all fucking things) and sitting down himself, flipping his napkin across his lap with a flair. 

Pointing a finger at Usopp, Luffy informs him, "You're a bad pirate."  Then he swivels in his seat to turn the accusation onto Zoro.  "You too."  He pokes Zoro twice in the cheek.

"Yeah, yeah," Zoro says, piling food onto his plate.

#

So yeah, Luffy hangs on Zoro.  And either Luffy is rubbing off on everyone or he's picked up other people who are also touchy-feely, because Ussop doesn't have any issues hanging on Zoro either. 

Luffy picks up an empty barrel.  Actually, first he picks up a barrel full of beans, but the waiter yells at him, so he puts it back.  With the empty barrel in hand, he spins around twice and hurls it at the pirate ship so hard that it bashes into two guys and sends them over the far side.  

The pirate shouts change pitch.  They lower their sails and scramble to fish out their crewmen.  

Usopp whoops, sharp and piercing in Zoro's ear, and he snags an elbow around Zoro's neck, so when he jumps up and down, he can use it as leverage to get more height.  "Yeah!  Yeah!  That's what you get!"

Zoro stands there, letting Usopp jump, wincing slightly when the jerking pulls at his stitches and the screams stab at his ear. 

He stands there and waits until Usopp pulls back with a grin.  

"Nobody messes with Captain Usopp, right?" Zoro deadpans.

Usopp lets out another piercing whoop.

#

Nami's less open with her affection, prickly as she is.  Especially with Zoro at the moment.  But that doesn't stop her completely.

She's settled under an umbrella on deck when a sudden wind snags her papers.  They yank out of her hands and spin across the deck, and she scrambles after them, frantically cursing, slapping her sandaled feet on top of them to hold them down.  A page flies upward and plasters itself against the mainyard, right below the lower edge of the sail.  Caught for now, but who knows how long it will hold. 

The best way to get up there is to climb the mast and shuffle out onto the yard, but that will take too long, so Nami jumps for it.  She jumps, and of course she doesn't reach it, and that must be real embarrassing for her.

But she's right.  That's the fastest way up there. 

Zoro's under the page now too, and he knocks the back of his fingers against her shoulder to get her attention and cups his hands together at knee height.  His eyes stay locked on the page above them, so he doesn't see what look she gives him as she hesitates.  

He doesn't see the look on her face, but he knows.  

Her hand hovers over his shoulder, not quite touching, and her foot's in his hands, and he lifts her up easy as anything so her shoe's at chest level.  She stretches, up, up, trying to touch him as little as possible, her fingers brushing the yard.  The page flutters, threatening to run off, and her balance shifts.  He grabs at her waist with one hand so he doesn't drop her, and she splays her hand over the top of his head to catch herself.  Braces a knee on his shoulder.  

Anchored and steady, she gives one more stretch.  Then she's got it.

Her hand shifts to his shoulder as he lowers her down, and she doesn't let go until her feet are on the deck, and even then she takes a moment.  

Neither of them look at each other.

"Thanks," she says. 

He grunts in acknowledgement.

Then he turns away and climbs up into the rigging.  He's not hiding.  He just doesn't want to talk to anyone.

#

And then there's the fucking waiter.

The guy moves in a rush down the narrow corridor, because he's under the impression he has important stuff to do and wants everyone else to think he has important stuff to do too.  Zoro's headed in the opposite direction, and as they slide past each other, the waiter's hand slips to the small of Zoro's back.  Pressing.  Nudging.  The touch snaps all the way up his spine to the back of his neck.

With a growl, Zoro twists away.  Spinning around.  Leveling the waiter with a glare that's sent smarter men than him running.

The waiter blinks at him.  His rush forgotten in his moment of confusion.

Then a slow grin settles over his face, and Zoro's stomach twists.

That waiter better fucking watch himself.

But he doesn't.

"Touchy, are you?"

Zoro snaps, "I'm not the one who's touchy."

The waiter beams at him.  "We both know that's not true."  Then he spins on his shiny dress heel and carries on down the hallway with a little stupid skip in his step.

Zoro has no idea what that means, except the waiter is an asshole.

#

Nami finds him in the bunk room, half dozing in his hammock.  She doesn't come in very often, claiming it smells and she has no interest in steppingon some of Usopp's more explosive ammo or witnessing the horror of Luffy's laundry pile.

But she comes in anyway.  She says nothing, just takes a seat on the edge of his hammock by his hip. Just sits there. And it's like she has something to say, but she's going to wait a freakishly long time before she spits it out for some reason, and if she's gonna do that, Zoro isn't going to help by asking.

Eventually, she lays back, the small of her back over his hips so they're perpendicular, her feet dangling off the side. He's gonna pretend not to notice that she's avoiding his stitches.  She pulls the side of the hammock behind her out enough to cradle her head, and he has to adjust Wado so it isn't poking her in the back.  Instead the sheath rests across her belly.  She drums her fingers absently against it once before crossing her arms, her eyes locked on the ceiling.

She left them. Now she's back.

He's not sure what to do now.

So they lay there, still and quiet and annoyed and hurt until she finally says, "Thanks.  For Arlong Park."

He shrugs. "I like fighting people."

And it hadn't been his call to go get her. If it had been his call, they wouldn't have gone.

"Not for that," she says.  "I know it'll sound stupid, but thanks for believing me."

"What are you talking about?"

"I told you to let me go, and you were going to to let me go."  She darts a look at him and adds, "Usopp told me."

Of course he did. Usopp probably caved under the slightest pressure and threw Zoro under the bus. Whatever, Zoro doesn't regret anything he said. He isn't embarrassed that she knows what he thought.

(His shoulders are tight for unrelated reasons, and he's ticked with Usopp because Usopp sucks.)

"This some kind of passive aggressive thing?" he asks.

"No," she says. "I am glad you came after me. I'm so glad, and I'm so grateful Luffy didn't listen to me. But also...you listened to me. Believed me. Without question. That's...there's something to that."

He isn't sure there is. Or it's too much to tease apart, and he isn't a teasing apart kind of guy.

When she reaches up to cover his hand that rests near Wado's hilt, he lets her. They don't thread their fingers together or anything cheesy like that. They just lie there. And it's...good.

Something loosens in his chest, and he takes a deep breath.  Maybe they're good.

He'd like them to be good.

It's a blindingly bright afternoon when Luffy screams, "Sanji!" and throws himself off the topmast to land on the waiter, who's out having a smoke.  The guy has enough forewarning to brace himself and bow with the blow.  And when they don't wind up sprawled on the deck, Luffy beams, settling his arms more comfortably around the waiter's neck, wrapping his legs around his waist.

The waiter huffs a startled laugh and pats Luffy's arm. He leans an elbow back against the railing and lifts his cigarette back to his lips. 

He doesn't seem to mind that Luffy's there.

And Zoro's torn between "I told you he's not heavy," and rage.

Luffy nuzzles the sides of their heads together, and they stand there, looking out at the sea.  The waiter carefully turns his head so he doesn't blow smoke in Luffy's face, and he turns to the side so the wind doesn't do it either.  They stand there so long that the waiter finishes his smoke and then stands there a while longer.

"I need to get dinner started."

"I like dinner."  But Luffy doesn't move.

The waiter cranes his neck around enough to give him a considering look.

"Fine," he says.  "But I'm kicking you out the second you touch anything. No stealing food. No getting in the way."

"Really!?"

The waiter laughs. Then he tucks his hands into his pants pockets and heads down the stairs towards the galley. Completely unbothered. He doesn't even have his elbows hooked under Luffy's knees.

Zoro hates that waiter.

Halfway down the stairs, their eyes lock.

There's a pause in the waiter's step.  And then a smile blooms over his face.  An evil, smug thing that Zoro wants to punch.

"Something I can do for you, Mosshead?"

Zoro glares. 

The waiter shoots him a wink before sweeping Luffy with him into the galley.

Zoro's chest burns.  He's gonna kill the waiter.

2.

Usopp's hammock catches fire.

Zoro has no idea how this happened. All he knows is there's a lot of screeching and stomping and smoke coming up from below deck.  When he goes down to check it out, he finds Usopp with his hands planted on his head as he looks down in shock at a smoldering, blackened heap on the floor. Luffy stands back a bit, holding absolutely still in a way that's really weird for him, his eyebrows high and his mouth in a little O.

Zoro takes in the scene, determines there's no danger, and says, "Don't burn a hole in the ship. We're in the ocean. We'll sink."

Then he leaves.

Later Nami throws a fit, and the waiter also has something to say, both of them trying to pretend that they're the responsible ones, but Zoro has tuned them all out. There's no hole in the boat, so it's fine.

When night falls, Usopp tries to curl up on the floor under the remains of his blanket. And Zoro simply doesn't want to deal with that level of pitiful.

"Get your ass up and quit whimpering," he snaps, pulling back his own blanket in invitation.

"I'm not whimpering," Usopp says, climbing into Zoro's hammock. "I'm singing. It's the song of the Lullaby People. Keeps away nightmares."

"Alright, keep going then," he says, tossing the blanket over both of them and closing his eyes.  Usopp hums a little song that sounds a lot like The Itsy Bitsy Spider until they both fell asleep back to back.

He half wakes up with the waiter standing over him, a delighted look on his face. "Comfy?"

Zoro grunts.  Something tickles the back of his neck, and he haphazardly reaches back and slaps at whatever it is.  It's Usopp's face.  He must have rolled in the night, and now he has an arm and a leg thrown over Zoro, his face smushed into the back of Zoro's neck. The smacking gets Usopp to twitch and mutter, "Damn pelicans."  Then he shifts around, ducking his head, snuggling his face between Zoro's shoulder blades instead.

It doesn't tickle anymore, so Zoro closes his eyes to go back to sleep.

"You're a big softie on the inside," the waiter says.  "Like an artichoke!"

Zoro opens his eyes enough to squint at him, because what the fuck?

"Artichokes?  You know?  They have all these spiky leaves that you peel off in layers around the outside and serve them with butter.  But once you peel them all back, you get to the heart--the meaty, tender core on the inside.  Artichokes."

"I'll choke you," Zoro mutters.

The waiter gives him a salacious smile and scrapes a hand into his hair.  Ruffling it.  

And Zoro's wide awake.  Ready to rip the waiter's hand off at he wrist.  If Zoro didn't have Usopp wrapped around him, the waiter's blood would be all over the floor.

The asshole pulls back just enough to be out of reach and beams at him.  "There you are!"

Then he leaves. He just woke Zoro up to be an annoying piece of shit.

Zoro stews for way too long before falling back to sleep.

At the next port, Usopp gets a new hammock, but by then he looks less pitiful anyway, having gotten used to sleeping sprawled around Zoro.

#

The waiter has started upping his game.  His stupid, stupid game that he's playing where Zoro doesn't know the rules.

The table they use for dinner has a bench seat on one side under the windows, and three chairs on the other side.  There are other tables, so if their crew ever grows, they can expand, but for now they use this.  They don't have assigned seats except Usopp doesn't like to be in the middle on the bench seat, and Luffy's going to stretch out his foot to sit on the lap of whoever's across from him, so Nami refuses to sit across from Luffy.  Their seating depends on the order that they get there and who's irritated with who at the moment.

Today, Zoro takes the spot next to Luffy on the bench seat with Nami and Usopp across from them.  So there's a whole empty chair for the waiter when he's done passing out food.  

Instead, the idiot smooths down his tie and, with a contented exhale, slides onto the bench seat next to Zoro.

He slides in close.  Not hip checking or shoving, but pressing his thigh against Zoro's.

Something spikes sharp in Zoro's gut.  He tries not to think about the waiter's thighs.

Just make room for him.  Zoro shoves Luffy to scoot down.  Make space.  And the waiter follows until they're all in place lined up along the table.  Like normal people, and it's fine.

Except then the waiter pushes further, until again they're pressed together hip to knee.

Which is really fucking unnecessary.

Zoro sends a sharp elbow into the waiter's ribs, which makes the waiter jab him with his knee under the table.  Zoro grabs his shoulder and shoves, and the waiter flails as he falls sideways, throwing out a hand against Zoro's face and shoving back.

"Stop that," Nami snaps.  "What the hell?"

A hand still starfished against his cheek, Zoro says, "He's touching me."

And...yes, he can hear himself.  But the words are out now and there's no getting them back, so the only thing to do is double down.

Nami gives him the disgusted look that excuse deserves.  "Seriously?"

The waiter laughs, and Zoro's anger heats his face.

With all the flailing, he's won a sliver of space, and he scoots a tiny bit towards Luffy to make it wider.  The captain interprets this as Zoro wanting to be closer, and he scoots right up against Zoro, throwing an arm over his shoulders and smiling around a dinner roll.  

Not ideal.  But maybe it will keep the waiter away.

It doesn't.  A second later, the guy is right up against Zoro's other side, a hot line running from his knee to his shoulder.  And now Zoro's boxed in on either side.  And on one side is the waiter and on the other side is Luffy, and those are very very different. 

He lifts his eyes and glares straight ahead.  It just happens that Usopp is sitting in front of him, and the guy slows his chewing and gives Zoro a look that's something between sympathy and fear that Zoro's gonna kill everyone in the room.

The waiter chuckles, then twists so he's more comfortable (because it's damned uncomfortable to be this crammed together).  In a lazy sprawl, he drapes his arm over the back of the bench seat.

Behind Zoro's shoulders.

Zoro turns his head to glare at him.  

The waiter winks.

And whatever he's doing, he's doing it on purpose.

Whatever it is.

And that's so enraging, that Zoro throws all his weight and most of Luffy's into shoving the waiter straight onto the floor.  He thumps to the ground with a full belly laugh while Nami and Usopp scream.

#

Zoro and Nami spar.  If you can call it that.  She's decent with her bo staff, but really no match for him.  He shouts about her stance and comes at her with the same moves again and again until she can get it right.  So less of a spar and more both of them pretending he's not drilling her.

She's sweaty and panting by the time he announces he's hungry.  He's not hungry (although he could eat), but she's getting sloppy, and more whacking her in the side right now isn't going to make her any better.

It's only after she agrees to the break and heads down the stairs towards the galley that he realizes what he's suggested. 

He swears under his breath and radiates annoyance as he follows her into the waiter's lair.

The guy is delighted to see her and already has her set up on a stool at the kitchen island, a glass of water with a lemon slice in it ready for her.

"How goes the sparring?  Have you defeated our sentient house plant yet?"

Zoro sneers at him as he leans a hip against the island.  (Like hell he's gonna sit down.) The waiter slides another glass in Zoro's direction, and Zoro downs it in four gulps, pushing past the disgusting diluted lemon flavor.

Nami snorts. "Of course not."  She stretches with a groan and rubs at her side. "He's ruthless."

The waiter shoots her side a dissapproving look and offers, "Well, if you ever want a more considerate sparring partner..."

"Yeah, if you ever want to win one," Zoro says.

The waiter looks like he wants to argue, but then realizes that arguing would be insulting Nami or going back on how he literally just offered to lose to her, so for a second he just looks constipated.

Nami snorts into her water.

Zoro smirks.

So the waiter changes tactics.  "You must be hungry after that work out," he says, reaching for a steamer basket and a pair of tonges, setting a couple dumplings onto a plate, and passing it to Nami. "Here you are, love."

"Thanks, Sanji."

He prepares another plate and slides it to Zoro, his smile turning evil.  "And for you.  Zoro darling."

Zoro freezes.  Glares at him.  "Don't call me that."

"Oh?"  Aww shit.  With a delighted gleam in his eyes, the waiter realizes he's hit on something and runs with it, propping his elbow on the counter and resting his chin in his hand to bat his eyelashes.  "What would you prefer I call you?  My handsome spear of asparagus?"

"Stop it."

"My charming cabbage.  My grumpy split pea soup."

"You're just naming green food!"

The waiter jerks upright, snaps his fingers, and points at him. "Granny smith apple of my eye!"  

He looks so fucking proud of himself, and he turns to Nami with a grin like he's expecting some approval of his cleverness, and Nami (the traitor) covers her mouth to hide a laugh, which clearly encourages him, because the pride on his face settles into a different flavor, something a bit longer lasting, more a steady warmth than a flash of glee.

Zoro really wants to punch something.  The waiter's face maybe.

Instead he throws a dumpling at the guy so hard in makes a thump noise when it hits his chest.  The waiter's smile immediately falls away.  "Hey! Don't waste food."

He picks up the dumpling, brushes it off theatrically and plonks it back onto Zoro's plate with a stern look that he's not to be messed with.

It's not guilt that makes him sneer back.

And now Nami's also giving him an annoyed, disappointed look, and there's no way out of this.  He's gonna have to eat the stupid dumpling.  Which he was planning to do anyway, but now it's gonna have meaning or some shit, and what has his life come to?

He shoves the whole dumpling into his mouth, and stomps away.  Retreating.  Like a loser.

The joy is back in the waiter's voice as he shouts after him, "My heart sings for you, broccli brains!"

#

Luffy likes to spend the vast majority of his time on deck.  The wind and sun and ocean spray on his face.  He's on an adventure and doesn't wan to miss a second of it. 

So it's rare that Luffy makes his way below deck during the day, but sometimes he does.  Sometimes he finds Zoro napping in his hammock and climbs in too to sprawl on top of him like a cross between a limp noodle and an octopus.  An arm hanging off the side.  His mouth open as he drools on Zoro's shirt.

His steady breathing is calming, and it's secretly some of the highest quality naps that Zoro takes.

"So everyone naps in your bunk," the waiter says.

Zoro looks up at him.  Luffy is still snoring lightly.  "Seems that way."

"Except me."

The waiter is appraising him.  He doesn't look pissy.  He doesn't look smug.  He looks...well, Zoro's not sure what to make of it, but maybe the waiter is trying to have an honest conversation for the first time ever.

"Yeah," he agrees.  "Not you."

And, yeah, that honesty guess was all wrong, because the glee returns in full force.  "That means I'm special!"

"You're not special."

The look the waiter gives him is a little bit pitying and a little bit knowing, and then all of a sudden he's bent down and smacked a kiss to Zoro's forehead.

Not even Luffy's snuggle stops Zoro from lunging at him, the waiter dancing away, cackling, as Zoro chases him onto the deck with Luffy still asleep and clinging to his chest. 

#

Somehow, Luffy doesn't even wake up when Zoro tackles the waiter and the three of them go over the side.  He doesn't wake up with Nami's screaming or with Usopp fishing them out.  He only opens his eyes when he's back on deck in a puddle of water.  

"I had a weird dream," he announces.

Nami throws a towel at his face.

The waiter laughs and scrubs his own towel against Zoro's head to dry his hair, ignoring all the snarling and thrown elbows.

#

All this gives Zoro something to think about.  He doesn't want to think about it, but it's stewing there against his will, and he's got a nagging feeling that he's close to being onto something.

Because, as much as he hates to admit it, the waiter's right.  Zoro has no shits to give about any of the obnoxious situations they get into or any of the stupid ass ideas his crewmates throw around.  He is completely unbothered by his crew hanging on him or sleeping on him or getting way too close to "look at his earrings."

But the waiter ticks him off like nothing else.

The obvious reasoning for this is that the waiter is an asshole and Zoro hates him, and meanwhile he doesn't hate the rest of the crew.  He's secretly kind of fond of the rest of those idiots.  And people he's fond of are allowed some easy closeness while other people aren't.  Makes sense.  Perfectly reasonable.

But this very reasonable theory collapses completely at the next island they stop at for supplies.  Because an old lady Zoro's never met before pats his cheek and a guy trying to interest them in a treasure map hangs off Zoro's arm while Zoro's trying to walk here.  And he doesn't snap at either of them.  No heads are ripped off.  He barely even blinks.

Of course, Luffy buys the treasure map as soon as he overhears the man's wheedling.  He does this despite Usopp's claim that he's allergic to the mosquitos that are found in jungles that are on treasure maps, and Nami's complaints that the map's a fake and a waste of money.  Luffy buys the map anyway and takes them out into the jungle, and as soon as they get to the big X, they're set upon by a bunch of bounty hunters.

Technically bounty hunters.  Because they are after Luffy's bounty.  But it seems that their main line of work is human trafficking, which they happily tell the crew about before the fight starts.  Apparently, their plan is to take Luffy to the marines and the rest of them to auction.  

It goes without saying that this was a terrible plan on the bounty hunters' part and was never gonna happen.  They look scraggly and weak enough that Zoro could step back and let Nami kick all their asses by herself.  And for a while after, Zoro thinks that's why he just gave them a bland, bored look when they started looking him up and down, leering, describing his looks in gratuitous detail and how much money each of his qualities would get them.  He's got nice biceps and great pecs and pretty eyes.  

These are facts.  Not worth getting mad about it.  It's more weird than anything. 

Luffy though is annoyed.  Both from being kinda protective and because this means there's no treasure.  

The waiter is fucking pissed.  Probably because of the goon's accurate assessment that Zoro is stronger than him.  Or because the waiter takes it as some sort of affront to Nami that the goons are going on about how hot Zoro is instead of her.  Or because the waiter just hates human trafficking, which is fair, but a bit much for these idiots, except everything the waiter does is a bit much, so who knows.  Zoro has no fucking clue and has no interest in learning what goes on in the waiter's head.

The more the goons talk, the more the crew is ready to uproot a tree and beat a fucker with it.  Instead of being ticked, Zoro's kinda interested to see how this plays out.

Heh.

Zoro's on night watch, and at one in the morning, the lights from the galley are still on and distracting.  The waiter shouldn't be up.  He should be asleep.

He probably is asleep.  Passed out with the lights on just to fuck up Zoro's night vision.

Zoro heads down to kick the cook awake or turn out the lights, and finds the guy hissing like a wet cat at something he's whisking.  After about ten seconds of watching this, the waiter throws the bowl onto the counter with a clang and a curse, clawing a hand at his hair with a deep sigh.

"Yeah, fuck that bowl," Zoro deadpans.

The waiter looks up at him, clearly not in the mood.  "What do you want, algae brains?"

Zoro steps all the way inside and props a hip against the counter.  He jerks his chin at the bowl.  "What's that?"

"A disaster."

It looks like some kind of batter or something.  Pale yellow with uneven bubbles.

Zoro lifts an eyebrow at him.

The waiter sighs, rolls his neck as he visibly tries to calm himself.  "I think Usopp's lactose intolerant."

Zoro frowns.

"He's been complaining of a stomach ache, and...well, there's a pattern."  He flips back in the open journal on the counter and twists it around to show Zoro the chart he's made of when in the last two weeks Usopp has had intestinal distress and what the waiter made each day.  Things are circled.  There are lines connecting the two columns.

Zoro slides it back to him.  "Yeah, that's not creepy."

"I need to find some dairy free alternatives and see if I'm right."  He sighs again.  "I could just make dairy free dishes for the next week or so, but that means re-planning all my meals, and then I'll have to double check that Luffy's getting enough calcium, and Nami mentioned pancakes and she almost never makes requests."  He gestures with a grand flair at the batter that offended him so much.  "Behold.  Coconut milk pancakes."  He lets his arm fall to his side in defeat.  It makes a slapping noise against his side.  "I was going to make pasta for dinner tomorrow, but I can't make my best sauces.  So do we forgo all sauce; or do we all switch to a lesser, dairy-free sauce, if I can make it happen; or do I make a second, smaller batch just for Usopp and then wallow in my own guilt that I'm not feeding him as well as everyone else?"

Zoro obviously doesn't have an answer to any of this.  But it doesn't seem like one's expected, because the waiter picks up the bowl again and runs the whisk through it a few times, lifting it out of the bowl and watching the batter drip off.  "Can't let this go to waste.  You want an abomination of a pancake?"  He already turning around to the stove, where he lets his hand hover over a griddle to feel if it's hot or something.

"Doesn't matter.  You're gonna make me eat it either way," Zoro says.

The waiter looks over his shoulder to shoot him a grin.  It's not as sparkling as usual.

He spoons out the batter into two circles, then watches them with his spatula ready.  Flips them.  Scoops them up.  

It's quiet in the kitchen with just the sizzle of the batter and the waiter's breath.

It's kinda annoying that the waiter is alright company when he's not trying to start something.  Why doesn't he just quit stirring shit and be a normal person?

He dumps both the pancakes on a plate and sets it in front of Zoro with none of his usual drama.  He uses the side of his fork to slice off a triangle-shaped bite from a pancake and pop it in his mouth.  His eyes narrow.  Then narrow more as he chews, his gaze going distant.

Zoro takes his own bite.  There's something weird about the texture.  It's thick.  Like it's making itself at home in his mouth.  He doesn't know.  He's not the expert on this shit.  It's not good, but he won't die eating it.

"Needs butter," he says.

"That's the whole fucking problem," the waiter snaps, but he pushes away from the counter and a second later he drops a bottle of maple syrup next to Zoro's elbow.

Zoro settles in to eat while the waiter picks up his bowl full of batter and glares at it.  "Fuck it," he says to himself.  "I'm the head chef.  And I'm a pirate.  I'll do what I want."  Then he marches over to the fridge, pulls out a bottle of sparkling wine, pulls out the cork with his teeth, and pours a good amount straight into the bowl.

Zoro's eyebrows lift.  

The waiter's caught up in something now.  He whisks and mutters to himself and doles more of the batter onto the griddle.  He watches it differently now.  Something coiled in his posture.

And Zoro really shouldn't be watching him this carefully.

There's something frenzied and fiery in the waiter's face when he plops the next pair of pancakes onto Zoro's empty plate.

Oh.  Yeah, that tastes like a pancake.

"Ha!" the waiter says after taking a bite.  He tosses his fork onto the counter in victory like he's spiking a ball.

Zoro shrugs and keeps eating while the waiter writes everything down in his journal.  "We've got those canned peaches.  I should do a compote," he mutters.

By the time Zoro's done, the waiter has rolled out his shoulders and calmed down a bit.  The future looks less dire with edible pancakes apparently.

"Don't tell anyone," the waiter says.

"Don't tell anyone how close you're watching Usopp's delicate tummy?  Or how you've decided we're not having milk anymore?"

"Don't tell anyone I was so irritated."  He braces his hands on the counter.  "It's not Usopp's fault.  I don't want him to feel...  It's not a burden.  Feeding the crew is never a burden, and I'll gladly adapt the menu for him.  For any of you.  It's not a problem, and he doesn't need to know that I treated it like a problem for a minute.  Understand?"

The waiter pins him with a look, and Zoro gives a blank look back.

And it's weird.  Because it's a nice thing for the waiter to do, and that doesn't make a lot of sense, because the waiter sucks.

He's not gonna think about it too hard.  Zoro snorts.  "The guy slept in my bed for four days.  You think I don't know how this goes?"

That seems to surprise the waiter.  It's like he's only just realized who he's talking to.  Suddenly they're staring at each other--two crewmates who've had a full interaction without wanting to murder each other, two crewmates who will bend over backwards for Usopp. 

Zoro doesn't like it.

"They still need butter," he says.

The waiter loses his shit.

Zoro ducks a kick and slips out of the galley, the waiter's shouted rant following him back into the night chill.

Zoro grins.  Because he won again.

3.

Zoro doesn't open his eyes as someone comes up to the side of his hammock and kicks off their shoes.  He's expecting whoever it is to climb in with him, and braces himself for an elbow in the chest (which stings a lot less than it used to, thank you very much).  He doesn't really care who it is until the hammock shifts, and it's definitely way more weight than he's used to, and suddenly he's scrambling to get Wado out of the way and not get flipped to the floor and not get a knee to somewhere unpleasant as the waiter shoves his way in next to him.

"What the fuck!"

"The hell are you doing?"

"You said I'm not special."

"You're not."

"That's why, like everyone else, I'm napping!"

"This isn't napping."

"What is it then, oh napping expert?"

"This is you playing...flirty chicken until one of us gets pissed off."

The waiter's face does that confused smile thing, and he chokes on a confused laugh.  "Flirty chicken!?"

"You know."

"I don't!  How do you play--" He laughs again. "--Flirty chicken?"

Zoro glares at him.  

The waiter beams.  "Wait.  Wait.  Let's play. How do we start?"  He bites his lip, his eyes dropping to Zoro's mouth.

Zoro--and the whole ocean around him--goes very still.

Lowly, the waiter asks, "Like this?" and drags his thumb over Zoro's lower lip.

So Zoro headbutts him.  

But like...with his face.

So their faces smash together.  And then they kinda fight with their mouths.  Angry and hot with lots of panted breaths and growling.  And--oh fuck--the waiter has a tongue piercing that sings against his tongue and makes him hiss and twist his fist tighter in the waiter's shirt.

And Zoro hasn't done a lot of...of mouth fighting.  So this is sorta new to him.  But he's so pissed off that it doesn't matter.

He's gonna win.

The waiter's gonna sigh into it and go limp, and that will mean Zoro's won.  He's not about to back down on making that happen.

The waiter's not sighing into it.  He's tense all over, a tight grip on Zoro's hair and short nails digging into his shoulderblade.  Not backing down.  Pulling on him and fighting back and sinking his teeth into Zoro's lower lip while Zoro scrambles to yank his stupid button-down shirt out of his stupid pants.

"Is this how it goes?" the waiter pants, and Zoro snaps, "Shut up," because this asshole should not still be able to talk, and Zoro's going to need to do soemthing about that.  So he escalates.

He gets a hand in the waiter's pants and pumps in firm, even strokes, and the waiter gasps, "Fuck!" and grabs Zoro's arm.

Zoro grins.

The waiter swallows hard.  "That--That all you got?"

Zoro adds a fierce twist on the next stroke that draws out a groan and shuts him up for a minute.

"Bet you can't--can't make me come."

He growls, "The fuck I can't." And there must be something about that that the waiter likes, because he sucks in a breath. His grip on Zoro's arm tightening, his hips rocking.

His face scrunches up into something absolutely ridiculous.  Nearly pained.  And it's the least attractive thing Zoro's ever seen, and he's absolutely going to drag him for it forever and ever and ever and ever.

His whole body tenses as he comes, then he sags into a limp mess of long limbs, a contented grin on his face.

Zoro wipes his hand on the waiter's dress pants, just because it'll make him mad later. Then he leans close to his ear and says, "I win."

The waiter huffs a laugh and stretches, long and limber like a cat, tucking himself back into his pants without bothering to button them. When he opens his eyes, they're glassy and sated. He drags an arm over Zoro's shoulders, dragging him nearer. "You win? Mossy, which one of us just had an orgasm?"

...

Oh fucking hell.

The waiter laughs again, moving to drag a hand through Zoro's hair which he shakes off in irritation. When he pushes himself from the hammock, he makes sure the whole thing flips completely upsidedown. Somehow the waiter manages to grab on and throw his weight to flip it all the way over. He comes up laughing, and then gives a satisfied sigh.

Zoro aims an ineffective kick at the underside of the hammock.

He means to stomp out of the room, but the waiter sits up and calls after him, "Hey!"

"What?"

"Get back here and snuggle with me, asshole!"

Zoro grumbles all the way back to the hammock and is none too gentle as he climbs back in and they shove each other to get settled. The waiter doesn't seem to care about his annoyance. Or notice. He ends up mostly on top of him with his head on Zoro's shoulder, his breath hot against his neck.

Somehow, something has gone wrong in Zoro's logic about all of this.  Something has gone strangely wrong, and it's the waiter's fault. "Was this your stupid plan?" Zoro asks.  "Was this what you were after all along?"

"The fuck?"  The waiter looks up at him in confusion.  "You're acting like I manipulated you."

"You did.  With your...face."

That earns him another boggled laugh.  "I flirted with you, and it worked!"

"Did not."

The waiter cuts off what he was going to say to give him a look.

And, yeah, okay, Zoro hears himself.  But still.  He rolls his eyes and looks away.

"Zoro--"

"--Don't--"

"--my darling sprig of basil--"

"--Shut up--"

"--my matcha mochi--"

"--I swear--"

"--you're an idiot."

Zoro glares up at the ceiling.  Yeah, something definitely doesn't make sense here.

The waiter taps his chest like he's knocking on a door.  "Hey."

"What?"

"You want a blow job?"

Zoro gives him a suspicious look, then says, "Yeah. Okay."

It's less vicious of a fight, because the waiter's all worn out.  And Zoro closes his eyes and lets a brilliant tingling sensation dance through his veins while the waiter trails down his chest, dragging his tongue over the skin where his shirt has ridden up, both of them breathing hard.

There's an ominous creak from the wall.  Then a bang.

And, yeah, it turns out hammock sex will break his bed.  Maybe because the hammock's already been flipped over once so it was kinda twisted up at the ends, and maybe that messed up the weight distribution or something. Also, they're both kinda tall and kinda heavy, and you're supposed to put that weight in the center of a hammock and not scooted down low so one of your legs are tangled up in the srings that are already twisted up from the hammock being flipped over.  

So anyway, the anchor rips out of the wall, and they hit the floor with a crash and a lot of swearing.

"Hey, I sleep here!" Zoro shouts, sitting up to point at the hole in the wall that's done him wrong.  

The waiter slaps his hand out of the way and shoves him back down. His hair's a mess and he's out of breath and annoyed.  "We'll fix it later. And if we don't, anyone will let you sleep in their hammock for a few days."

Zoro blinks. He's justifiably a little distracted right now. "Oh. Huh. You're right."

The waiter looks up at him pityingly and snaps, "Great. Now lie back and shut up."

This is good enough for Zoro.