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Zoro is known for being horrible at establishing non-violent physical contact - which doesn’t go too well with the, arguably worse with touch, cook. Of course, they make it work- they just have to jump a few hurdles along the way. Whether its late at night in the galley, quietly in the men’s quarters, or even in the kitchen, they make it work. Especially when the other needs it.
It’s a chilly and dark night when Sanji has his first nightmare in a long while. He darts up in a cold sweat, panting as quietly as he can. Sanji clamps his hand over his open mouth, closing his eyes and counting to ten. It seems too dark to get up and start preparing breakfast, but he sighs and stands up anyways. He finds his jacket hanging, digging in the pocket for a half-empty pack of cigarettes leftover from yesterday. He mumbles a string of curses under his breath as he walks on to the deck, opening the small box to shake out a pack of matches and a cigarette. Leaning against the railing, he flicks the tip of the match with his thumbnail, lighting the cig and inhaling a large puff of smoke. He stands there for who knows how long, suddenly dropping his smoke into the water when the cherry reaches his fingers. He curses louder than intended, tensing when he hears a tired voice behind him. “Curly?” He slowly turns to see Zoro, staring at him with a narrowed eye. “What’re you doing awake?” The swordsman continues, approaching slowly. Sanji sighs out a “nothing, marimo” before turning back to the sea. When a firm hand grasps his shoulder, he exhales heavily and sinks his head into his hands. Zoro mutters an “oh, honey” before pulling him into a hug, tight but loose enough than Sanji could pull away if he wants to. Sanji buries his face into Zoros shoulder, letting out quiet, broken sobs as Zoro rubs a hand over his back. They stay like this until the sobs change to occasional sniffles and mumbles of “‘m sorry” muffled by fabric. Zoro kisses the blond’s hair, tells him theres nothing to be sorry for, and walks him back to the hammocks, holding Sanji as he slowly falls asleep.
Zoro is known for being a guy with a rough exterior. I mean, hell, he hasn’t stopped training since childhood- and after his stay with Perona and Mihawk, something shifted. He doesn’t laugh, he doesn’t smile, he barely expresses anything but anger - which is why Sanji isn’t surprised when Zoro comes to dinner with a blank face and furrowed eyebrows. Everyone chats their normal amount, Luffy eats as much as he physically can, and everything is normal. Almost. After everyone starts to slowly funnel out of the kitchen, Zoro stays behind. This isn’t abnormal, of course - Zoro tends to stay so he can help with the dishes, hang around to garner some booze, or attempt to annoy (or woo) Sanji. When Sanji starts scrubbing plates and bowls, Zoro stands beside him with a cloth and dries them off. They keep up this routine until everything is clean, and then they both put the dishes in their rightful spots. They usually don’t talk much - or at all - during this time, so Sanji doesn’t give it a second thought when Zoro barely makes noise, even when breathing. The cook doesn’t say anything either, until he finally finishes putting away the knives and takes a quick glance at Zoro. He’s staring at the wall, eye glazed over and glassy as he taps his foot in a repetitive pattern. Sanji speaks, “Moss?”, but Zoro doesn’t even blink. He tries again, “Mossy.” He tries another time, “Zoro?” He finally takes a step closer, tilting his head to the left to try and catch Zoro’s eye as he mutters “Zoey?” Zoro pauses, biting his inner lip before turning to Sanji. When the usually stoic man lets his breath hitch, Sanji immediately gathers him into his arms, supporting most of his weight. He doesn’t dare move again until Zoro squeezes Sanji’s waist tighter, making the blond move his hand into the swordsman’s hair and card his fingers through the short strands. Zoro breathes shakily as he’s held, grasping onto Sanji’s silk shirt as he tries to ground himself. “Shh, its okay, its okay- respire juste, chérie,” Sanji coos softly. As soon as he catches his breath, Zoro pulls away from Sanji with blush coating his cheeks. “What was that about, Zoey?” Sanji questions. Zoro shrugs, mumbling something about not quite knowing. Sanji nods, stroking Zoros cheek before the cook kisses him on the forehead. Zoro smiles the smallest amount and hugs Sanji again. They stay like that until a crash sounds outside, voices seemingly yelling Luffy’s name.