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Heavy words, little lies
Telling everything but the truth, the truth
Three little words over time overheard and overused, used
No sweet nothing could ever be turned into something new
No grand gesture could ever be made to measure you
He’s lost again, Sanji is sure of it. He’s twenty minutes late, and he hasn’t replied to any of his texts, which means either Zoro is dead in a ditch, or he left his phone at home and is wandering in circles around the neighborhood.
He’s pretty sure is the latter.
He sighs and takes a sip of his coffee. It’s cold and overly sweet, but he doesn’t want to flag the waitress down for another one. If he drinks anymore, he’ll have to go pee, and he has enough bad luck that the moment he leaves the table, Zoro will walk through the doors and upon not seeing him, think he’s at the wrong place.
He taps his fingers against the table, resting his chin on his other hand, and studies the decor. All the tables have either white or red mantels, a bouquet of roses as centerpiece. There are white, pink, and red balloons bouncing against the ceiling and the entire place feels a bit stuffy because of the many candles lit around the room. The walls are plastered with hearts and cupids and almost everything in the menu is a dessert or something sweet.
Sanji loves it. What else can be done on Valentine’s Day?
The place is filled with couples of all genders, but most of the attention is centered on the lovely couple seated in the middle of the wide dining floor. The moment they walked in hand in hand—the woman dressed in a beautiful white sundress, her perfect blond hair tied into a loose knot and the man in sensible slacks and collared shirt—gazes turned to them. The woman was led inside by her boyfriend to their reserved table, and upon arriving, he had offered the chair to her like any true gentleman, and had ordered the most expensive drink on the menu.
Women had sighed dreamily, men seethed with envy, and Sanji had approved.
He tears his gaze away from the lovely couple as wind-chimes signal someone opening the door. He catches sight of shocking, green hair and grins, raising his hand to call Zoro over.
I know what I got and I know where we're going
You don't need to show it, I already know it all
It's what you don't do, it's what you don't say
(It's what you don't do) I know you love me, I don't need proof
It's what you don't do, the games you don't play
(It's what you don't do) I know you love me, I don't need proof
“Look what the cat dragged in,” Sanji says as Zoro takes the seat in front of him. “What time did you leave the house?”
“Shut up,” Zoro says automatically, then “two,” he mutters petulantly.
Sanji can’t help but laugh, though it’s not at Zoro. Well, it’s a little bit at Zoro. It’s 4:47 now, which means Zoro spent three hours lost. But they were supposed to meet at 4:00, so if Zoro left at two in the afternoon, then that means he made the effort to leave early so he wouldn’t be late. It’s…endearing.
“This place looks like shit,” Zoro says, wiping away any saccharine feelings inside of Sanji. The women to their right look scandalized and glare at the both of them before returning to their quiet conversation.
“Oi, fuck you,” Sanji hisses. “You said I could pick any place.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t know shit like this was actually possible,” Zoro snorts, looking around with amazed disgust at the decor. “It looks like a cupid took a shit on everything.”
“Zoro!” Sanji snaps, kicking him on the shin under the table. Zoro hates fucking Christmas, of course he feels like this about Valentine’s. They’ve been dating for five years now, known each other for twelve, so Sanji knows this. He doesn’t really care, though. “We watched anime in our boxers while eating roman noodles last year on Valentine’s just like you wanted, now it’s my turn. So shut up, give me a compliment, and pretend this is the most beautiful place you have seen in your goddamn life, you shitty plant life-form.”
Zoro crosses his arms and scowls darkly, glaring at Sanji with unveiled annoyance. “You’re ass looks nice in those jeans.”
Sanji beams, leaning back on his seat. “Thank you,” he says pointedly. “Now, let’s order.”
Zoro sighs loudly and slouches on his seat, still looking like a kid forced to eat his vegetables. He sighs every time he reads a new menu item, and when he finishes reading through the whole thing, he starts playing with the menu, pretending to look for more items. Sanji grits his teeth, but doesn’t say anything. Zoro sighs again, his shoulders sagging, and now he’s so slouched on the seat that his knees are knocking against Sanji’s. He turns to the beginning of the menu again, reads the first item, and sighs so deeply that the scent of mint mixed with sake reaches Sanji.
“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” Sanji finally breaks, smacking Zoro’s knees away from his. “What’s the problem?” he demands.
“You know I don’t like sweet crap.”
“Order the fucking veal, then.”
“If you’re gonna tell me what to order, then why even give me a menu?”
Really, Sanji didn’t need a dentist until he met Zoro. He knows he should stop grinding his teeth, but Zoro makes it really, really hard. “Order the veil,” he growls and flags down a waitress.
“How can I help you?” she asks politely, looking apprehensively between Zoro and Sanji.
“We’ll take the house special and a bottle of Sangiovese Rosé.”
“Right away, sir.”
“Did you really just order pink wine?” Zoro snorts. “Wow, you’re such a sap.”
“It goes well with the meat, bastard,” Sanji snaps. “Don’t doubt my skills.”
“The few you have,” Zoro mutters. “So, other than eating while staring at naked babies and baby-killing plants, what else are we gonna do?”
“What are you talking about?” Sanji asks, frowning.
“The hearts,” Zoro explains, nodding to the wide arrange of heart-shaped decorations. “The symbol comes from silphium, an herb used as a deliberate abortive agent. Women used to eat it after doing the nasty, sorta like a birth control pill. It grows just like a Valentine’s heart.”
“That’s not where it comes from, idiot!” Sanji exclaims, scandalized. “It comes from the shape of cupid’s arrowhead!”
“Sure it does,” Zoro snorts. “Look, it’s either the birth control herb or the shape of a woman’s ass when she’s bending over. I know which one you prefer, pervert.”
“Uh, excuse me, but…can you lower your voice?”
Sanji looks up at the handsome face, taking in the perfectly parted hair, trimmed eyebrows, and amazingly blue eyes. It’s the man that came with that lovely blond, the gentleman.
“Huh? What’s your deal?” Zoro snaps, glaring at the man. “Mind your own business, buddy.”
“I’m sorry, we’ll keep it down,” Sanji says quickly, smiling at the man.
The man glances at him, his eyes softening, and he nods. “Thank you.”
Zoro snorts, glancing at the man as he leaves, then turns back to Sanji. “Yeah, he’s kinda hot.”
“What’s that?” Sanji snaps, his anger doubling. Really, Zoro? Are those the words you want to use right now?
“It’s rare when you don’t verbally attack any man that speaks to you. Every time you’re half-way decent to one, it means you find them attractive,” Zoro shrugs. “And if you’re actually nice, it means you’re ready to jump into a bed with them.”
Sanji raises an eyebrow. “Huh, is that right? So what does it mean every time I insult you, motherfucker?”
Zoro smirks. “I’m special.”
“Yeah. That’s one way to put it,” Sanji mutters darkly. “Just…stop bothering people, alright?”
“Alright,” Zoro says, slouching on his seat again. Sanji sighs, rolling his eyes, and leans back against his chair, defeated.
I've been saving up my time so I could spend it all on you, on you
Oh, all I need is to see you smile; I've forgotten how to be blue, blue
I know what I got and I know where we're going
You don't need to show it, I already know it all
It's what you don't do, it's what you don't say
(It's what you don't do) I know you love me, I don't need proof
It's what you don't do, the games you don't play
(It's what you don't do) I know you love me, I don't need proof
Don't tell the whole world; just wanna be your girl
(It's what you don't do, it's what you don't do)
It takes almost twenty minutes for their meal to arrive at their table. Zoro spends the whole time finding every little thing that’s wrong about the holiday, even pulling out his phone at one point to actually look up new things online. The wine arrives before the veal, and Sanji pretty much drinks it all on his own before the meal arrives.
The people around them sigh in relief when their food arrives, thinking Zoro will finally stop talking in favor of devouring his meal. But to everyone’s utter dismay, he just talks and eats at the same time, pitching in a complaint about the meal every once in a while.
“Can’t you just shut up?” The question is defeated, more of a whine than an actual question. The lovely women couple to their right has already left, and the couple on their left is drinking copious amounts of alcohol, their expressions half-dead. “This is just like Christmas,” Sanji mumbles. “I still can’t believe you got into a fight with the mall Santa.”
“The guy was a creep!” Zoro snaps. “You can’t tell me he didn’t give you that pedophile vibe. And the whole holiday is utter crap, too! Telling kids that there’s an old creepy man watching them at all times to make sure they’re behaving like good little robots…man, that’s just terrifying. And don’t even get me started on the Salvation Army…more like starvation army, am I right? They’re a religious cult that hate the gay community—which, need I remind you, we both are a part of—and aided the war. Not to mention they blame the poor for being poor. And what about that Elf on the Shelf crap? I mean, that’s like a steroid shot to the whole Santa bullshit—.”
“Enough,” Sanji cries, exasperated. “Can’t you just pretend you like it? All of it,” he explains further when Zoro frowns. “Christmas, Valentine’s—for god’s sake, Thanksgiving and Halloween—let me enjoy one fucking holiday!”
Zoro frowns thoughtfully, looking at him as if weighing his options. “No,” he finally says.
“Hey, you shouldn’t be taking any of that crap,” says the handsome gentleman before Sanji can jump across the table and kick Zoro’s face.
“What’s that?” Zoro asks, no anger to his voice, just clear curiosity. He really didn’t hear the guy.
“I’m not talking to you,” the man snaps, his girlfriend (no ring, so can’t be the wife) nodding affirmatively behind him. He turns to face Sanji with a worried frown, blue eyes almost twinkling. God, he’s cute. “You deserve so much better,” the man says earnestly. “We saw you, waiting here for hours for this bastard to arrive, and when he did—the way he treats you—.”
“Hey, what’s your problem?” Zoro snaps. “I’m not some messed up boyfriend, you know. I just don’t like the damn holiday. What’s wrong with that?”
“Valentine’s it’s dedicated to love!” the man exclaims, now with the rest of the patrons murmuring words of agreement. “For you to trash this sentiment…it’s just heartless!”
“Dedicated to love?” Zoro snorts, his mouth twisting into an excited grin. He’s got that glint on his eye, that shine that tells Sanji he’s getting ready to lay down some serious—and unnecessary—knowledge on someone. Sanji sighs, letting his head fall on his hands, and closes his eyes as Zoro begins. “You know, we’re talking about a day that may very well have originated from a Roman festival that celebrated spring by pairing off women with men by lottery. It follows a very simple sequence: man spends money on woman, literally putting a price tag on his affection, then depending whether that price tag is ‘meaningful’ enough, woman sleeps with man. It doesn’t celebrate love…it’s about sex and money and about how people are scared to be alone, because for some reason, being single is the worst thing you can be.”
Sanji takes another swallow of wine as Zoro sucks in breath, silently impressed by the amount of sarcasm dripping from Zoro’s tone. But the man isn’t done—no, that would be too easy.
“You paint your walls red, put a little baby on diapers above your head, and smile for the camera because you’ll get to show off how much someone else cares for you based on the amount of money they spent. This dinner? Probably around a hundred bucks, and the veal tasted like shit. A single rose? Well, let me sell that to you for forty, because as you can see, it’s extra red and red means love, get it? And if I bought into it, like you stupid fucks, then yeah, I would put on a nice shirt, steal some roses from my next door neighbor and lie about how much I paid for them, maybe tell my boyfriend here some sappy shit about how his eyes look very pretty today or how he looks extra handsome today, even though he looks literally the same way he does any other day of the year, and that would be enough for me to get laid. But guess what? I’m not a fucking sell out, so no, I won’t fucking do that.”
The closer we get, oh
The less we need to show
I know what I got and I know where we're going
You don't need to show it, I already know it all
It's what you don't do, it's what you don't say
(It's what you don't do) I know you love me, I don't need proof
It's what you don't do, the games you don't play
(It's what you don't do) I know you love me, I don't need proof
Won't tell the whole world; just wanna be your girl
(It's what you don't do) I know you love me, I don't need proof
It's what you don't do, it's what you don't say
(It's what you don't do, it's what you don't do)
Sanji doesn’t need to hear the end of the rant, though he’s forced to because he doesn’t manage to pay for their meal fast enough to get out before.
“Sanji?” Zoro wonders, his voice curious, but Sanji ignores him and walks out.
Outside, the weather is warm. The whole goddamn winter was warm—seriously, Sanji was wearing shorts in December —but it’s starting to get dark, so the air itself is cool. It feels nice.
Zoro falls in step next to him, but doesn’t speak. Sanji doesn’t know where he’s going, all he knows is that he needed to get out of that stupid restaurant, away from that whole environment, away from…everything.
“How bad did I mess up?” Zoro asks quietly and Sanji laughs humorlessly.
“Pretty damn bad.”
Zoro looks down at his feet, his lips pulled down into a frown. “I’m—.”
“You’re not sorry.”
Zoro sighs and looks back up. “No…well, I am sorry you’re upset, but not about anything else.”
Sanji scoffs, taking out a cigarette. He’s been doing so well about not smoking, too. But he really needs one right now and he’s never been good about managing his urges.
“Do you think getting your present today instead of tomorrow will make you…less mad?” Zoro asks, not hopefully but truly curious.
Sanji smirks, despite himself. “You hate the holiday, yet you always buy me a present on the fifteenth. Now, why is that, marimo?”
“Because I never spend any money on them,” Zoro answers, grinning. “And you still love them.”
“There are plenty of people who don't spend money on Valentine’s,” Sanji snaps. “Seriously, Zoro…can’t you just give me this?”
“No,” Zoro answers, stubbornly. “Hey, I celebrate Christmas—why don’t you give me this, huh?”
“You don’t celebrate Christmas, you celebrate Chopper’s birthday,” Sanji reminds him, rolling his eyes.
“He’s a good kid.”
“He is, but that’s not the point—the point is you hate holidays!”
“I don’t care.” Zoro sets his mouth, lower lip jutted out. “It’s fake. I don't like fake things.”
Sanji sighs. Yeah, he knows. He met Zoro when he was ten, and they didn’t get together until they were seventeen, so they’ve practically been together they’re whole lives. And Zoro has never kept secret his dislike for holidays. They’ve been together for five years, but have only celebrated four Valentine’s Day. Out of the four, two were spent just like Zoro wanted, and two were like Sanji wanted. Both times, Zoro ruined Sanji’s day.
“You’re getting pissed again,” Zoro says conversationally.
“I’m remembering all the Valentine’s you’ve ruined,” Sanji says angrily, smacking him on the chest. “You’re an asshole.”
“Like you didn’t ruin mine!” Zoro snaps. “Last year’s was supposed to be like I wanted, but you spent the whole time sighing and talking about the sexual tension between Byakuya and Renji!”
“Those two want to fuck each other.”
“They do not!”
“Whatever! Don’t change the subject!” Sanji snaps, looking away from Zoro. He stops.
They’re nowhere near the city now. Shit, they’ve crossed over to the reserve. This is why the damn city needs to put up a fence around the reserve—animals and people keep getting lost, and one of these days, somebody’s going to get hurt.
“Damn it, we’re lost,” Sanji mutters.
“We’re not lost.”
“Well, I’m sorry if I don’t trust you.”
“Take a left.”
“Alright, we’re going right.”
Sanji takes a very pointed right and Zoro follows him, hands in his pockets. “You’re not that mad anymore.”
“No, I’m really fucking mad.”
“You know, that hot guy is totally cheating on his girlfriend.”
“You don’t know that!”
“Ha! You liked him!”
“No, I didn’t,” Sanji denies. He was kind of cute, though.
“Dude, he checked out your ass like, three times,” Zoro recalls. “Someone in love doesn’t do that.”
“I check other people out,” Sanji denies.
“You’re just a pervert.”
“Oi, what the fu—.”
Sanji freezes, his breath knocked out of him by the sight in front of him. The road they had been walking suddenly stops, cleared out to reveal the most beautiful view of the city Sanji has ever seen. He can see the entire city, from the tallest building downtown—that nobody really knows what it is—to the loud lights of Iva’s place and the wide cluster of buildings belonging to Galley La, where Zoro works.
But the thing that makes him almost tear up is the sunset.
He’s seen sunsets before, of course he has. But he’s never seen so many shades of purple and yellow, the sun burning so warmly that Sanji feels almost sad to see it go.
“Happy Valentine’s Day.”
Sanji turns to look at Zoro, mouth open. “You…you knew this was here.”
“Man, we got out of that place just in time, too,” Zoro says, looking down at his watch. “I seriously thought I would have to punch someone for you to storm out.”
It’s getting darker, the sun still sinking in the horizon, but Sanji doesn’t care about the dozen knew shades of color darkening in the sky. He looks at Zoro, really looks at him. He takes in his grey eyes…a color often seen as lifeless, but so fucking expressive on Zoro. He takes in his high cheekbones and the brush of his eyelashes against his cheeks. His plump lips and strong jaw, his wide forehead and imperfect nose.
He’s so beautiful.
“You hate Valentine’s,” Sanji says numbly.
“I hate how fucking empty it can be,” Zoro corrects. “But you like this cheeseball kind of shit, right?”
Sanji blinks. “Cheeseball?”
“Yeah…you know…sappy.”
“You mean cheesy?” Sanji bursts out in laughter, bending over as his body is rocked with it. “Cheese…cheeseball…”
“Oi, shut the fuck up!”
“Cheeseball!”
“You’re such a fucking asshole!” Zoro snaps. “We’re not doing this again, you hear?”
“Yeah,” Sanji says, ignoring Zoro’s surprised look. “I guess you’re right. It doesn’t need to be Valentine’s for us to do this.”
“You mean…we don’t have to celebrate Valentine’s Day anymore?” Zoro asks hopefully, looking like a child on Christmas. Except, Zoro clearly was the only child not excited on Christmas Day, the fucking Grinch.
“Yeah, we don’t have to celebrate it anymore,” Sanji says, putting out his cigarette and making sure the flame is dead. They’re in the grasslands, for fuck’s sake.
“That’s…pretty nice of you,” Zoro finally says.
Sanji grins and shrugs. “Yeah…too bad there isn’t a bed around here.”
Zoro glances at him, his surprise giving way to lechery. “I told you, I’m special. We don’t need the bed.”
“Yeah, you’re pretty special,” Sanji says sarcastically, but his arms are already around Zoro’s shoulders, Zoro’s large hands on his waist. “In the head.”
“Brat,” Zoro mutters, but no more words leave his mouth as Sanji presses in for a kiss.
If this is going to be his last Valentine, he rather go out with a bang….literally.
Oh, the closer we get, oh
The less we need to show