Inspired by Beautiful Crime (Tamer). I'm not a native speaker, and I apologize for any mistake you might find. Also, Zoro spending nights on desk watching the stars and having to nap all day to compensate is an huge headcanon of mine.

There was something etheral in watching the ocean at night. The moon was hidden behind thin grey clouds, casting only a mist of light on the deck of the Thousand Sunny. The sea was a calm presence, her gentle sound brushing against the ship's dark silhouette.

Zoro wasn't one to give much importance to this things. But that wasn't an usual night.

The stars seemed brightern the sea more beautiful and the uncomming dawn was singing promises of adventures in the already blushing horizon.

It could have been because that was the first night spent on the ship in two years. Or maybe because he just reunited with his crew, his family.

Nakamas.

The swordsman had decided not to question that magical moment. He didn't even find it in him to turn around upon hearing soft footsteps behind him. He sighed.

Might as well admit it. He had missed all of this.

The moon light finally graced him with some visibility. The cook remained silent as he stepped next to him. When the silvery shine of the moon was painting shadows on his peaceful face, his cigarette was drawing dancing patterns in his eyes.

Not unlike the sea, his look was a soothing presence that only crushed him a little under its ageless wisdom.

Zoro didn't say a thing either. Somehow, his arm found a place against the cook's. But his eyes never left the rising sun.

A fog of smoke surrounded them when Sanji finished his cigarette. Matching expressions contemplated the ball of fire dragging itself from the sea and turning the deep blue sky into a monochrome of reds and pinks.

Talking felt like a sacrilege. Still, Sanji lighted another smoke and spoke softly, the ocean in his eyes turning into lava when the sun reflected in them.

"What happened to your eye? Really."

"I told you already," he replied cautiously.

"Yeah, and it's bullshit."

"Oi! Can't you just shut up? I was enjoying the moment."

Strangely, the cook did shut up. Zoro turned his head, looking at him suspiciously.

"I don't like it, marimo."

"Well, no one asked for your opinion."

"You see, that's the thing," the cook said while turning to face him. "I have a right to voice my opinion. And you have a duty to listen."

"Right," he snorted.

"You do. You can't just burst into our lives and expect us to be okay when you get out just as fucking quickly. You owe m- us. We're nakamas."

Zoro raised an eyebrow. What was he ranting about? But Sanji fell silent again, staring angrily at the sun rise.

And then it clicked.

"I missed you too, shitty cook."

"Shut the fuck up. I'm enjoying the moment."

The swordsman nudged him with his elbow until he faced him again. The lava was gone in the cook's eyes, replaced by the eternal sea. Zoro closed his arms around Sanji and hugged him, hoping to convict everything he was feeling right now.

The cook didn't hesitate to return the gesture. And that was it. They fit into each other like pieces from a broken mirror. Reflecting each other because they're both the same.

As the sun found its place in the sky and the crew of the Sunny was slowly waking up, there was no evidence of what happened. But if anyone bothered to take a closer look at the swordsman's and the cook's eyes, they would find a matching gentle sea fighting a restless wave of lava.