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i would never turn down the chance to spend more time with you, so i’ll shamelessly accept your help in trying to knock our favorite glutton out with flavor. but also, don’t wear an apron or i might swoon while you’re doing it.

Don't be an idiot. If I was going to wear an apron, it would be your pink one, and it would be the only thing I'd wear.

Definitely not safe for Luffy.

[ Too late, he’s already an idiot. Several minutes pass before Sanji texts her back because Nami has temporarily broken his brain with that lurid mental image. ]

i accidentally almost burned the last batch of takoyaki thanks to you. luffy still loved it. it’s good we’re committed to making him pass out because i can’t do quick after that.

[ He is, but he's her idiot, which, perhaps, he and the rest of the crew always were, but all the more so now. ]

Blackened is a cooking method, right? Why would he mind?

So you like that idea? Good to know for later.

i didn't know you knew so much about cooking! blackening isn't exactly the same thing as almost burning food. there's a spice blend involved and usually it's done to just meat. takoyaki... would just end up burned. not that he'd know that. he'd probably eat it anyway and still enjoy it, but i wouldn't feel right about serving it to him.

nami, saying i liked it would be like saying i enjoy cooking. it's technically true, but... it isn't the whole truth. you get the idea. i'm still distracted thinking about it.

This is very useful information, Sanji. I was thinking seeing me in one of your shirts would keep you distracted, but instead maybe I'll help you in the galley late one night.

[ She's going to be the death of him. ]

well. that would also keep me very distracted. so don't discount it because now i've got two gorgeous images fighting it out in my head. if you do come help in the galley, we're locking the door and putting up a sign or something so there are no midnight disturbances.

[ Attached, in place of a worded reply, is a picture of Nami shot from above in her mirror, naked save for one of his unbuttoned shirts, which she holds closed just below her breasts, not quite exposing all of herself, but angling herself that the curve of her body certainly gives more than enough to lead the eye. ]

Your shirts are easier to steal than your favorite apron♥

[ There’s another few minutes of radio silence from Sanji’s end as he processes and tries to aggressively shove as much food as he can in Luffy’s direction. And when he does reply, it’s with a photo of his own, of his cock obviously tenting his slacks taken from above at an awkward angle. Then there’s two texts in short succession. ]

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

[ Followed by: ]

you spoil me . also tease me, but i don’t mind. you should keep the shirt on. i see a certain rubber captain starting to flag.

He's insatiable, but I'm still the one getting the main course.

Your shirts smell like you. Of course I'm keeping it on.

[ Her shirt now, Sanji. ]

you’re pretty insatiable too when it comes to your snacks and main courses. not that i’m any better. i’m really looking forward to enjoy today’s dessert.

i could complain about having it stolen, but when a beautiful and talented thief pulls one over on you, it’s best to just let her have her victory. it looks perfect on you. you look like what you are: mine.

You spoil me, and I like being spoiled, if anything you're at fault for how insatiable I am.

[ And then there's a potentially worryingly long pause because she needs a second to sit and stare at that word – mine – and let every pang of worry and want work through her while making up her mind what to do with that. ]

I don't think I need to wear anything in particular to look like I'm yours.

[ She needs a drink, speaking openly about her feelings is still hard. She's got a lot of excessive self-protecting to let go of. ]

if it’s my fault that someone as sweet as you is feeling insatiable, i will happily take credit for it. i could say the same about you. i’m feeling very thirsty again.

[ Is the pause worrying? Yes, for Sanji, it certainly is. It’s a long moment of anxiety as he’s afraid that he’s said something wrong. She’s too good for a failure like him to begin with, so it would only make sense that he— his phone buzzes and the feeling fades, at least a little. ]

no, of course you don’t. you just… i like seeing you in my shirt. you look so good in it that it makes my head feel hazy.

Once our captain's asleep, I think we'll be able to get away with a long bath, perfect for rehydrating you.

[ But that word. That damn word is pressing on her, hard, but not unpleasant. This content feeling, like her heart's a little too big for her chest – it's new, but it isn't as harrowing as she expects it to be. She trusts them all, but she trusts Sanji with parts of herself she hasn't gotten to show to anyone in a long time. ]

If I'm yours now, what does that make you?

he’s close. i see him starting to nod off. one more plate ought to do it. hopefully.

[ It better because his breath catches when she sends that question. In truth, he was always hers if she wanted him. This physical attraction they’ve been tangled up in was enough for him, if that’s all she wanted. He could live with that. His flirting might have revealed his fondness for her, but some fondness was be to expected, considering. He’s glad Luffy is starting to nod off because he’s feeling painfully earnest right now. ]

it makes me yours. if you want me.

Talk to him about something boring, that might help it along. Know anything about bookkeeping?

[ Nami can't tell if she can't wait to see him again, or if she wants to lie low, hunker down in his shirt and just try to process everything exchanged thus far. The part of her that's had to hustle for so long is no stranger to thrusting herself into the unfamiliar and finding a way to get by, and in a lot of ways that's what this feels like – minus the impending con, of course. Still, there's so much she hasn't had space for before, so much she doesn't know. She can, and will, put on the flintiest poker face in the East Blue when she has to no matter how much she's cobbling a way forward together on the inside, but, this is more than that, it deserves more than that. ]

I want you.

[ Too selfish for restraint at a time like this. She'll just have to work hard not to misjudge, and run them aground in the process. ]

[ She probably doesn't know how much what she says means to him. This isn't the first time she's said those words, but the meaning is different now. The number of times in his life where he's felt wanted are countable on a single hand and none of them have been recent. He loves Zeff, the father he's chosen, with all his heart, but the man is almost as stoic as Zoro is. Reading those words from her— from a woman that guards her heart as fiercely as she guards her treasure— has a special meaning that makes his heart swell, even as he tangles with the overwhelming feeling that he doesn't deserve it and will never deserve it. He has to take a moment to process, taking a few long drags on a cigarette, before he can reply. ]

then i'm wholeheartedly all yours.

[ Now, they just need to figure out exactly what this means for them. ]

luffy's finally snoring. give me a few minutes to clean-up and i'll be there?

[ It's a question not because he doesn't want to see her— he very much does so— but they're trying to navigate feelings and that's apparently more difficult than even sailing the Grand Line. ]

[ His reply isn't a surprise. Sanji hasn't been subtle, of course he's all hers, but seeing it spelled out like that, especially on the heels of promising him the same, makes her stomach twist into giddy knots. For her, it isn't a matter of feeling unworthy as much as it is an issue of not knowing what to do with this. She's no stranger to taking a good situation and milking it for all it's worth, using circumstances and people to her advantage easily, right down to her preference for getting behind the others with Usopp when there's danger afoot. But something genuine? Something reciprocated? ]

I'll be waiting.

[ Pausing, she shakes out her unsteady hands, not liking the tremble this conversation's left them with before adding– ]

Bring us something to drink?

i've got something perfect i can bring. see you soon, beautiful.

[ It does take a few minutes to scrub the takoyaki pan and wipe down the counters, but it also gives him time to regain his cool. Try as he might, he's not particularly good at keeping his emotions in reserve and his feelings for her always seem to overflow. Subtle isn't possible for Sanji and it's only the fact that he heaped adoration on her well before their arrangement started that even makes it possible for them to keep this secret. Slowly, the tension in his muscles dissolves as he works through the cleaning and the stress of the moments fades, revealing joy underneath it. Whether he deserves it or not, she's made her claim and he can't imagine anything that would make him happier.

What this means is a mystery even to him. Life on the Baratie left no time or space for relationships and even if it had... his life then had been devoted to ensuring the success of Zeff's dream. It's not like he'd know what to do with one. He still doesn't, but as he walks the deck from the galley, that almost seems to not matter.

Once he's there, he knocks gently on her door before pushing it open, careful to only let it open wide enough to slip inside. Not for the first time, he's grateful she has the space to herself. There's no hiding the stupidly large grin that lights up his face as he sees her, barely dressed in one of his blue-stripped button-up shirts. He's tempted to pull her into his arms that instant and kiss her, but there's a bottle of wine neatly tucked under one arm and two glasses occupying his other hand. ]

I, uh, brought that drink you wanted for us. It's sweet, but strong. [ It felt appropriate, really. The cork is already popped as he sets the bottle and the glasses down on her desk. ] Want me to pour you a glass now?

[ The time she spends waiting is full of restlessness. Where she never cared before, suddenly Nami is compelled to flit around her room, straightening this, or righting that, idly tidying when there's never been a need for it on any of the other occasions Sanji's crept into her room. And it's not for him so much as it is in a vain effort to quash how on edge Nami's been left feeling as the word mine, and everything is might, and does mean runs circles through her brain.

When he knocks, she straightens abruptly from where she's been shuffling papers around her desk, quickly fastening the middle button of his shirt so she's not fully exposed when he creeps in. As familiar as they've become with one another, too many things have been said for her to be waiting for him just to pull him into bed again – not that she has a clue what's supposed to happen.

The sight of the wine and the glasses is a relief, a welcome diversion that makes the smile she greets him with come a little easier as she crosses the room to where he stands and lifts the wine glasses out of his hand, head tilting up far enough for her lips to brush his jaw before she steps back and lets him get further inside. ]

Pour us both glasses, I think we should talk. [ And goodness knows she'll need the wine to help give her courage for that. ]

[ It isn’t terribly surprising, that button keeping his shirt closed. He hasn’t really been thinking about it— he’s been avoiding thinking about it, actually— but Sanji knows things have changed and they need to talk. Not that he knows what he’s going to say, really, because again: uncharted territory. Still, he’s grateful for it. It helps ground him, the contrast between that and the flirty, tantalizing photo she sent him earlier. It’s briefly amusing to think that all this started as another one of his endless attempts to flirt with her. ]

I think you’re right. [ He takes his time, carefully pouring each glass with a steady hand. With the kind of conversation they need to have, he makes it a heavy pour, filling each glass to less than an inch from the rim of the glass. His smile isn’t the normal, beaming grin that’s directed her way. It’s real, and genuine, but there’s a tinge of nervousness to it. Why is his stomach suddenly doing flips? ] Figured we could both use a full glass tonight.

[ After stowing the bottle— there’s still plenty left, just in case they need more— and gently taking one of the glasses, he glances down at the pale, yellow liquid. It’s one last chance to think. His only real experiences with romantic relationships are snapshots observed from afar while at Baratie and the only thing he learned from those was how to flirt (badly) with women. Then he takes a long drink and steels himself. ]

I don’t really… know what’s supposed to come next or what’s supposed to change. I don’t know what I’m doing. [ It’s a soft admission as he meets her gaze, voice quiet. He could try to pretend otherwise, and maybe he would if he didn’t like her so damn much, but… he doesn’t play it cool, not now. ] I just want you, Nami.

[ For Nami, there's almost nothing more nerve-wracking than not being able to plan for something. From the moment she decided it was alright to start letting him get close to her, Sanji has been a surprise, leading her into a situation that's so much more than she anticipated. ]

I've never– [ No, that makes her sound like she dove into bed with him with no knowledge, and Nami shakes her head at the realization, eyes narrowing as she picks her way through her words, trying to get her own confession out. ] I mean, not often. There wasn't. [ Time. Freedom. Space to breathe, like there is aboard Merry with this passel of idiots she'd already lay down her life for.

Hurting people was part of life for such a long, long time, and he's so unflappably kind. She'll boss the crew around and tell them all off, send Sanji on mindless errands or give Zoro bad directions when he gets on her nerves, but she doesn't want to be who she's had to be in the past anymore. She doesn't want to hurt him, or treat his heart like a commodity because she doesn't know any better. ]

I've never had a boyfriend before. [ The words come rapid fire, like they're practically being shoved out the door, and Nami follows the declaration up with a long drink of wine, draining half the glass before she dares to look in his direction again. What a stupid thing to say. What a childish word to use. Her grip on the stem of her glass tightens as her brows knit together, her jaw tightening as her concern slips through the unruffled front she's barely been holding together since his arrival. ]

[ It’s moments like these that Sanji would normally take a drag on his cigarette and take the time to think. He watches her as she struggles to say what’s on her mind. It’s not like he can’t understand that. Being vulnerable is hard, even for someone like him who wears his heart on his sleeve. And what she says isn’t really surprising. It wouldn’t have mattered if she’d had a dozen boyfriends or lovers before him, but he knows her and knows something of where she’s come from. That she’s had none is just another testament to the life she’s lived and the kind of strength she has as a person.

His immediate instinct is to wrap her in a hug. That feels off, though, perhaps a little too forward with what they’re discussing instead. Everything he wants to say feels wrong, too, and he feels another bout of nervousness grip his stomach. ]

What a pair we are. [ He laughs softly at the ridiculousness of it, nervousness seeping through into the laughter, and reaches out to lightly take her free hand in his. Drinking another swallow of the wine, he glances up at the ceiling, then meets her gaze. ] You know, when I was still learning to cook, Zeff always used to say that yesterday’s mistakes didn’t matter. You made a mistake, learned from it, and tried again the next day. I got a fresh slate with him everyday.

[ Not that he wouldn’t remind him of any mistakes he made constantly, especially if he made it again, but the old chef never held them against him, either. ]

What I’m trying to say is… what you have or haven’t done before we met doesn’t matter. We’ll figure things out, somehow. I’ll try my best, you’ll try your best, and if we make mistakes, we’ll try again the next day. [ Is this the right thing to say? Is there a right thing to say? Sanji honestly doesn’t know, but he speaks as best he can from his heart. Their entire crew is like them— misfits who haven’t had anything resembling a normal childhood— and they’ve managed so far. He smiles at her, wide and earnest as he can. ] And who knows? Maybe it’s a good thing neither of us has much experience with… with this. We get to decide what we want this to be.

[ Part of her wishes she had someone with Zeff's brand of gruff grace growing up. Genzo might have been that, had their time not been cut short, but all Nami has for graciousness are the memories of her mother's patience while raising her. Excellent for growing up strong, but less so when she's in such uncharted waters she feels like she's grasping at straws, and babbling like an idiot about boyfriends.

As tightly wound as she is from having this conversation, some of that tension seems to ease after he slips his hand into hers. She steps closer without thinking, quietly nursing her wine while mulling this over. ]

You never worry about getting hurt, do you? [ She could be selfish and not say the things she knows he should hear, she could let herself smile and lift her head, gaze at him fondly while saying something tender and optimistic, but if he's not going to be concerned about the way she knows she can hurt someone, Nami will fret about it for the both of them. ]

We're going to be together for a long time – all of us. [ It's her turn to glance away from him, staring down at her drink instead while she thinks out loud. ]

What if I break your heart, and we're stuck together? [ What if I hurt you? She thinks, but isn't quite brave enough to say, for all her efforts to be honest. ]

[ He almost winces when she says he never worries about getting hurt because, honestly, she’s right. It’s rare for that to factor into his thought process. Most of the time, Sanji just does what he feels is right. His heart dictates his path, even when he thinks deeply about a problem. He has to think about it because it’s so unnatural to consider— what if she does hurt him?

It doesn’t seem possible. Nami’s worry is obvious, though, the trepidation so clear in her tone of voice, it shines through. Instinctively, he knows that it’s impossible. Some tiny piece of him thinks of home, and the Vinsmokes, and the kind of cruelty that he knows she’s fundamentally incapable of. Mostly, he focuses on that last part, on how deeply she cares, so much so that she threw away her own freedom and future to save an entire village that hated her. Something about that resonates with him, but it isn’t important right now. ]

It’s not as though I don’t have worries about this. [ His face grows a little warm with embarrassment at the admission. He inches closer and gives her hand a reassuring squeeze. ] You’re right that things could go wrong. Maybe we aren’t right for each other.

[ His heart vehemently rejects the idea, but he knows there’s a sliver of a chance it could happen. He takes another long, deep swallow of the wine, needing the slight burn to help ground himself in the moment. ] Maybe I’ll do or say something that makes you hate me. Or maybe… we’ll be too busy on this crazy adventure to find time for each other. But I refuse to believe you could ever hurt me. You go to incredible lengths for the people you care about. And… and I know you care about me or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.

[ He runs a hand through his hair, trying to pick his words carefully, and after a quiet sigh, he meets her gaze directly. ] Even if it was possible, it still wouldn’t stop me from wanting to try this. We’re pursuing our crazy dreams and putting our lives on the line. I’m happy putting my heart on the line, too. If it doesn’t work, we’ll always be crewmates first and foremost. We’ll figure it out.

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