“You’re drunk, mosshead.”

“Hmm?” Zoro barely hears Sanji’s annoyed declaration. He’s too busy staring at the shitty cook’s face instead of paying attention to what he’s saying. Sanji’s pale skin seems to glow in the low light, his soft blond hair framing his face almost like a halo. Even the dumb eyebrows and little beard seem more charming than Zoro has considered before.

“You’re kissable.”

Sanji’s sudden look of dubious confusion makes Zoro laugh, and he grabs the little hairs on his chin, using them to pull him close. He makes good on his word. 

Sanji is very damned kissable.