Work Text:
A soft bell chimes overhead as Sanji ushers Koby into the shop ahead of him. It's brightly lit, and kept cool with large, slowly rotating fans near the ceiling. The soft breeze is a relief; it's the late summer now, and even though they're further north than they were a few weeks ago, the heat outside is oppressive.
Koby’s trying not to think about why they moved north so quickly. It's only been a few weeks, everything still fresh and raw and painful, but he's good at ignoring things that hurt. He’s not thinking about how suddenly Zeff moved Baratie, or the way he and Sanji both stare at Koby when they think he's not looking.
He's not thinking about Vin.
If nothing else, moving the ship halfway across the East Blue has given him plenty of things to distract himself with. Zeff picked a spot in the water to anchor, then took Koby, Sanji, Patty, and Carne to the nearest large island to pick up supplies. Apparently, there's a lot more to handle than Koby had realized when it comes to moving the ship; they need to restock food and supplies that didn't survive the trip, put out word to prospective customers and new staff to replace the ones who chose to stay behind that Baratie is there, and get in touch with local suppliers and chefs.
There’s been a visible vein throbbing in Zeff's forehead for the last week. Koby’s trying not to feel guilty for that, too. When Sanji suggested they use the time on land to get Koby that suit he promised him, Koby seized the opportunity with both hands.
He's doubting that decision now, looking around the shop. There are suits in all colors everywhere he looks, along with hats and shoes and ties, and velvet trays of gold and diamond cuffkinks and pins. This place smells expensive. Koby's afraid to exhale, in case his breath is enough to ruin something.
“Maybe we should go somewhere else,” he says in a low voice, and Sanji blinks at him. He looks perfectly at ease, the swanky bastard.
“What? Why? It seems fine.”
“I can't afford this place!” Koby hisses, gesturing around at suits that probably cost more than he does.
Actually, Koby’s seen the bill Alvida sold him to cover. These suits definitely cost more than he does.
“You don't have to,” Sanji says. “I'm paying for it. Do I have to explain the concept of birthday presents to you?”
Koby huffs, but before he can retort, an older man steps out of a curtained room in the back, holding several bolts of fabric in his arms and humming to himself. His eyes go wide when he sees them, and he hurriedly sets them down on the counter, brushes his hands off, and crosses the room towards them.
“My apologies, sirs, I didn't hear the bell. Welcome to Dosan’s. How can I assist you today?”
He has a soft, lilting accent that Koby can't place, and his smile is warm and polite behind a nearly trimmed silver beard. Sanji shakes his hand with a bright smile when he holds it out. Koby, still reeling from being addressed as sir by someone who doesn't already know him, nearly misses the man holding his hand out to him as well, shaking it belatedly with a quick, awkward smile.
“I'm Sanji, and this is Koby,” Sanji says. “We have an appointment with Theo for a fitting?”
“Ah, of course, that would be me,” the man says, smile widening. “Always lovely to have new customers in the shop. It's a pleasure to meet you. What are we looking for today?”
Koby looks uncertainly up at Sanji. He's not actually sure exactly what they're here for; he feels painfully out of his depth, and he can't shake the feeling he'll be laughed out of the room if he just says he needs a suit. There's probably specifications and specific names and styles, things you have to know already to shop at a place like this.
Sanji, thank god, does know all that. “Koby here needs a fitting,” he says. “I'd like to get him something tailor made, and a few things off the rack, if you have any in his size ready to go. He's a waiter at Baratie, so he'll need something formal enough to pass muster with our customers, but comfortable enough to move and carry food and drinks in. Our space is limited, so as much variety with as few pieces as we can manage would be the ideal.”
Theo nods, eyes drifting to Koby. “I'm assuming easy to clean fabric?” he asks. “If you work in food service?”
It takes Koby a beat too long to realize Theo's talking to him. “Oh, um, yes sir,” he says. “That would probably be best.”
“I'll see what I can do,” Theo says. “Please, you two make yourselves comfortable. There's a bar cart in our waiting area over there, and you're welcome to browse.”
“Excellent, thank you,” Sanji says, immediately turning to examine a nearby mannequin in a double breasted suit. Theo turns his attention back to Koby.
“Before I take your measurements, are there any styles you're particularly interested in?”
Koby shakes his head. “I don't, um… know a lot about suits?” he says uncertainly. “I've never had one before.”
Theo gives Koby a quick, appraising once over, a head-to-toe look that would normally make Koby want to run and hide, but seems only polite and business-like now. When Theo meets his eyes again, his smile is soft.
“I understand completely,” he says gently. “I’ll help you figure out what suits you best. Please, feel free to look around and see if anything stands out to you. I'm going to make sure the fitting room is ready, then I'll be back to take your measurements.”
“Thank you,” Koby says, feeling himself relax at the matter-of-fact way Theo says everything, then shuffles after Sanji to look at the different styles on display. They all look more or less the same to Koby: dark, soft fabric and shiny buttons, broad shoulders and slim hips, all clearly designed for grown men.
Koby had been excited about the idea when Sanji first presented it to him, but he can't imagine wearing any of these suits. Even cut down to his size, he's bound to look ridiculous, just a scrubby little chore girl dressed up in borrowed clothes. It's going to be embarrassing, and Sanji’s going to be disappointed about what a waste his gift turned out to be.
Before he has time to get too in his head—or try to convince Sanji to give this up as a lost cause and go find Zeff at the market where they left him—Theo returns, now with a tape measure draped around his neck and a pin cushion on an elastic strap wrapped around his wrist. “If you'll follow me to the back, I’ll take your measurements and we can get started,” he says, and Koby immediately looks to Sanji, eyes going wide.
“Um.”
Sanji glances between them, frowning, then ducks his head closer to Koby’s. “Do you want me to go back with you?” he murmurs.
Koby chews his lip, mulling it over. On the one hand, there are more than a few reasons he's not sure about being alone with a stranger and letting them touch him right now. On the other hand, he knew this was going to be a part of the appointment, and Zeff showed him how to break a variety of different holds on the trip up here, when there was nothing much to do other than make sure the ship was pointing the right way.
Theo watches them calmly, expression open and unassuming. “There are chairs in the back room, if you'd like him to accompany us,” he says, and the offer cinches it for Koby.
“No, I'm okay,” he says, throwing Sanji his most reassuring smile. “You can keep shopping.”
“You're sure?” Sanji searches his face, obviously looking for a lie. “I don't mind.”
“Neither do I,” Koby says. “I'll be right back.”
“All right,” Sanji says. He's clearly uncertain, but he's not willing to press the point in front of a stranger, thank god. “I'll be right out here if you need anything.”
They're still finding their footing again after everything that happened with Vin. Koby’s smile softens, and he reaches out to squeeze Sanji’s elbow reassuringly before turning decisively towards Theo. Theo nods at him, then turns and leads Koby through the curtain in the back to a large work room. It's a bit messier back here, full of half-made suits and bolts of cloth spread on several tables, but it's a warm, comfortable kind of mess that oddly reminds Koby of the kitchen at Baratie: chaotic to an outsider, but well organized and cared for to those familiar with it.
Theo gestures him towards a small pedestal in front of a half-circle of standing mirrors. “If you'll just take off your shirt and pants and step up here, I can get started,” he says.
Koby hesitates, fingering the hem of his shirt. “Do I… do I have to take them off?” he asks, reluctant.
“It would make my job easier, but it's not a requirement,” Theo says mildly. “I can get a rough measurement over your clothes, then get a better fit once we get the first suit on you.” When Koby still hesitates, staring down at his shoes, he adds softly, “We get all sorts of customers in here, you know. I can guarantee you don't have anything I haven't seen before.”
Koby gulps. “It's just, um…”
He doesn't usually have to explain it. Telling Sanji months ago had been easy, because he'd been too overwhelmed with sheer panic to be worried about one more scary thing. Sanji had told Zeff for him—it was funny, looking back, the way Sanji had pointedly said “I was just talking to him, and he said his name is Koby” the second Zeff had stepped into to the kitchen that first night, before the old man had even opened his mouth—and the two of them made it clear to the staff that Koby was going to be treated as a boy. Beyond occasionally correcting someone who makes the wrong assumption, he hasn't had to outright say it since then.
Theo doesn't make him say it either. “If you're concerned about your measurements being… a little different than one might expect from a boy your age,” he says delicately, “I can assure you, you're hardly the first young man I've helped out with this. I've been working here since I was twelve; I've seen everything.”
Koby peeks up at him through his eyelashes. “Yeah?”
“Of course,” Theo says. “I told you. It's nothing I haven't seen before.”
Koby finally lifts his head, searching Theo’s face for any hint of a lie or mockery. When all he sees is gentle understanding and a warm smile that has Theo's eyes crinkling at the corners, he takes a deep breath and reaches up to unbutton his shirt.
“You can leave those folded on the chair there,” Theo says, politely turning away while Koby undresses, like he's not about to look right at him in just a minute. Koby does, leaves his shoes tucked neatly underneath it, and then steps onto the pedestal in just his underwear and binder.
He avoids his eyes in the mirror.
“Ah, I was wondering,” Theo says, lightly tapping Koby’s shoulder over the tank top. “This is a smart purchase. We make these here too, if you're ever in need of more.”
“Oh,” Koby says. “I– thank you.”
“Here, arms up for me. Like this.”
Koby holds his arms out the way Theo demonstrates, and Theo starts taking his measurements, wrapping the tape measure around his middle with careful, efficient movements, like Koby’s perfect normal, like he really is used to this.
“So have you, um, have you worked here a long time?” Koby asks, not sure how to break the silence, or if he should stay quiet and let Theo focus.
Theo doesn't seem bothered by it, carefully taking down Koby’s measurements on a small notepad. “Oh, yes, for decades now,” he says. “I was hired on as a seamstress when I was… twelve, I believe? Maybe thirteen? Just to help with hems and buttons and things, and they hired me full time when I was older. This is where I met my husband, actually; his father owned the shop back then, and we grew up working here together. Here, step apart a bit, I need your inseam.”
Koby does, feeling his cheeks warm, but Theo makes it quick before moving on, standing and stepping around behind Koby.
“Laurie, my husband, actually did my first suit fitting for me when I was a few years older than you,” he says reminiscently. His hands move with quick, practiced ease, stretching the measuring tape between Koby’s shoulders and down his arms. “It’s a wonderful feeling, to have something like this. I'm glad I can help you with it.”
Koby frowns. “You didn't have any suits before that?” he asks. “Even working here?”
Theo huffs a soft laugh. “Well, before that, I mostly wore dresses,” he says dryly, and Koby’s eyes go wide.
“Oh! Oh, you're…” He forgets himself and drops his arms, turning to stare at Theo with his mouth agape. “Really?”
Theo laughs again at his obvious surprise. “Really,” he says.
“But you have a beard,” Koby says dumbly. Theo grins and reaches up to stroke his fingers over the silver hairs.
“Medicine has come a long way since I was your age. There's things you can take for that, if you want.”
“Wow,” Koby breathes. He knows he's staring, but he can't help it, even if it's rude. He suddenly feels shy and uncertain in a completely different way than he did before. “Sorry, I didn't– I'm just– I've never met anyone else,” he says, stumbling over his words. “Like me, I mean.”
“Well, now you've met at least one,” Theo says cheerfully. “And likely more than that. You might just not have recognized them.”
Koby nods. He can't quite pull his thoughts together, and he can't stop staring, awed and flabbergasted. It seems too impossible and wonderful to wrap his mind around.
He knew he wasn't the only person, knew he couldn't possibly be. But knowing that there were probably others like him somewhere in the world is entirely different than actually meeting one, in a shop he owns with his husband, perfectly happy and exactly who he is.
“I'm worried I'll look stupid in a suit,” Koby blurts out. It's not what he meant to say, but it's been lurking in the back of his mind since they stepped in the shop, and he feels like Theo might understand that fear more than Sanji. “Sanji always looks so good in his, but I feel like they won't fit me, and everyone will be able to tell.”
His eyes burn at the admission, and there's a painful lump in his throat. Theo’s bright smile fades to something soft and warm and understanding, and he reaches over to take both of Koby's hands in his.
“We are very good at what we do here,” he says firmly. “And I've been making clothes for people like you and me since before you were born.” He squeezes Koby’s hands, grip strong and warm. “I would love to make a suit for you, Koby. Will you trust me to do that?”
Koby sucks in a shaky breath, bites his lip, and nods.
The rest of the fitting passes quickly; Theo only needs a few more measurements, and then he's having Koby step into a suit from one of the racks before he starts carefully pinning it to a better shape. He keeps Koby carefully turned away from the mirror as he does, and Koby doesn't have to ask why; even a quick glance down shows his worst fears coming true, with the way the suit hangs awkwardly on him, all the wrong shape for his body. He fixes his eyes on the far wall and lets himself focus on Theo’s voice as the older man chatters happily about other customers that have come through and how he and his husband handle the day to day business of the shop.
When he's got everything pinned in place, he steps back to give Koby a considering once over. “Do you mind if I just…” He makes a vague gesture towards Koby’s head, and when Koby nods, he steps forward again and tries to brush his hair into place.
Koby laughs at his consternated frown. “I know. Believe it not, this is better than it used to be.”
“You grew it out from quite short, it seems?” Theo asks, and Koby snickers despite himself.
“From almost bald. Sanji tried to cut it for me. He's not allowed anymore.”
Theo huffs a laugh. “Well, at least he's trying to be supportive. It was nice of your brother to bring you here.”
“Oh, Sanji’s not my…” Koby trails off, thinking of Sanji teaching him to bake bread, of Sanji reciting recipes to him after bad dreams, of Sanji ruining his favorite suit by crawling under Koby’s bed with him just because Koby was scared.
His chest feels tight, and his voice comes out shy when he says, “I mean. I guess he's kind of like my brother.”
Theo nods and finally declares Koby fit to look in the mirror. Koby feels his smile disappear, dread pooling in his stomach, but he steels himself and turns slowly on his heel.
All the breath gets knocked out of his chest when he sees his reflection. One hand flies up to his mouth to muffle his gasp, and he frantically blinks tears out of his eyes when his vision goes blurry, not wanting to look away for a second.
He didn't know he could look like this.
The suit hangs straight and even on his shoulders, which seem somehow broader than normal. The fabric is dark and soft to the touch, with gleaming gold buttons. Theo even found a tie for him to try on in nearly the same shade of purple as his glasses, making it seem like the whole outfit was planned and styled with care. Even with pins stuck in it around all the seams, he looks complete and deliberate in a way he's never felt. He looks like he's being himself on purpose.
“I look like me,” he chokes out, voice breaking, and then he laughs, chest bubbling with too much emotion to hold in. Over his shoulder in the mirror, he sees Theo dab at his eyes.
“Well, not to pat myself on the back too much, but I’d say we pulled that off quite well,” he says thickly. He's grinning ear to ear. Koby laughs again. “That looks wonderful on you.”
“Can I go show Sanji?” Koby asks, and Theo nods and waves him towards the front of the shop.
“Yes, of course, only mind the pins. Try not to poke yourself.”
Koby’s scrambling towards the curtain before he's finished speaking, pushing through and immediately making a beeline for where Sanji is chatting to another man in a suit while critically examining a pair of dress shoes. He turns at the sound of footsteps, and lets out a surprised, delighted laugh when Koby skids to a halt in front of him.
“Holy shit, look at you!” he cries. “Oh my god, Koby! Turn around, let me see.”
Koby laughs and spins on his heel. “It's so– I think I look really good,” he says, shoulders hunching shyly but grin still firmly in place.
Sanji grins back at him. “You look fucking amazing,” he says sincerely, then winces and turns to the man who was showing him the shoes. “Uh, sorry, pardon my language.”
The man snorts and sets them back on the rack. “You're fine, son. In any case, I think it's quite deserved here; it does look amazing. You must be Koby,” he says, holding out a hand to shake. “I'm Laurie.”
“Oh, hi!” Koby says, shaking it enthusiastically. His usual nervousness around strangers has disappeared in the face of his excitement over the suit. “It's nice to meet you. Mr. Theo was telling me all about you.”
“It's nice to meet you as well,” Laurie says warmly. “He did an excellent job with that suit. You look wonderful.”
Koby's face hurts with the force of his grin. “Thank you.”
“Seriously, Kobe, you look incredible,” Sanji says. He's grinning just as hard as Koby. “Gonna beat me out for best dressed at work.”
Koby’s grinning so hard it hurts. “This is the best present ever,” he says. “Thank you so much, I'm– I feel–”
He doesn't have the words. He gives up on trying to find them and just wraps his arms around Sanji’s middle. Sanji hugs him back, then yelps and jerks away when Koby squeezes tighter.
“Ow, holy– okay, let's save the hugging for when you're not covered in needles.”
“Shit, sorry,” Koby says, clapping his hands over his mouth. “I forgot.”
“Lucky you,” Sanji teases, poking gingerly at his hip. “I'm fine, you just stabbed me in like… five different places. Okay, how about you get that off so they can get started sewing it into place?”
Koby never wants to take this suit off for as long as he lives. He does it anyways, just so that he won't have to worry about the straight pins anymore. Theo sets the suit to the side and gives Koby a quick tour of the shop, showing him what styles and cuts he should look for in the future, how to accentuate and accessorize, how to look the most like himself if he's ever shopping on his own.
Koby drinks it in and commits every word to memory. He wants to hold onto this forever.
His tailor made suit will be ready in a few weeks. Sanji buys him a few jackets and slacks in the meantime based on Laurie and Theo's recommendations, along with a new suit for himself. Koby feels like he's walking on air as they leave the shop.
They stop by the docks long enough to stow their bags in the skiff they took to shore from Baratie, then get directions to the market where they promised to meet Zeff, Carne, and Patty later. It doesn't take long to find them; they just have to listen for the people yelling the loudest. Sanji gives Koby a droll look, then starts walking towards the sound of a ruckus.
“Who got on his bad side now?” he asks when they pull up next to Party and Carne, who are examining a stall selling small paper packets labeled with carefully done drawings of different plants. Zeff stands a few dozen feet away, in an impressive yelling match with a man wearing a large toolbelt.
“Every farmer within fifty miles,” Carne says dryly. “Apparently there was a bad dry spell last year. Vegetable and herb prices have gone up a bullshit amount since the last time we were this far north.”
“So he's yelling at… a carpenter?” Koby asks, squinting at the man now brandishing a hammer at Zeff.
Patty snorts. “Yeah, he decided we're gonna start a garden on Baratie now. He's just finishing negotiations to build a greenhouse on one of the decks.”
When Koby first got to Baratie, he would have been terrified by Zeff’s version of business negotiations. With a few months of experience under his belt, not to mention the way he's still riding the high of that appointment, he simply turns to examine the seeds Patty and Carne are looking at.
“You're just picking out what to plant?” he asks curiously.
Carne nods. “I've been pushing for at least an herb garden for years,” he says. “Fresh rosemary, kid. It'll change your life. Pick something out if you want it; the boss isn't gonna care.”
Koby hums and steps around the side of the cart, away from the herbs and towards a wall of different fruits and vegetables. Some he rules out immediately as impossible to grow on the ship with their limited space; anything with a drawing of a tree on it he ignores, focusing instead on smaller, more easily contained plants. His mouth waters at the thought of fruits and vegetables plucked straight from the plant, rather than shipped to them frozen and then thawed in the kitchen.
He's broken out of his thoughts when his eyes catch on an innocuous stack of seed packets, sporting a drawing of several small, heart shaped fruits dotted with tiny seeds.
Strawberries, reads the label. Fragaria x ananassa.
Koby’s fingers hover over the stack.
They're not his favorite, but they used to be. Vin made Koby eat them because he liked the mess. Sanji helped Koby make a strawberry shortcake for his birthday because he knew Koby liked them.
Koby has two new suits waiting for him on the skiff and another on the way that will fit him even better, bought by someone who loves him and made by someone who wants Koby to feel like himself.
Koby wants to be who he is on purpose.
By the time Zeff and the carpenter part ways with a congenial handshake and a promise that the greenhouse should be built within just a few weeks, the four of them have collected an almost comical stack of seeds to plant. Zeff buys them all, griping about the price as he hands them over to the merchant and threatening to dock everyone's pay, but he barely glances at them, just dumps them all in a canvas bag and storms off to the next stall.
At least Koby thinks he didn't glance at them until they're in the skiff rowing home that night, when Zeff quietly slips him the packet of strawberry seeds without a word, eyebrows raised in a silent question.
The paper crinkles as Koby grips it. “I don't know,” he says, barely audible over the sound of the oars splashing. “I don't want to plant them right away. I just wanted to have them, in case… in case I change my mind later.”
“All right,” Zeff says quietly. “You just let me know, little tomato. We’ll save some pots in the greenhouse for you, if you decide you want them.”
Koby nods and slips the seeds into his pocket. When he presses his feet back under the bench, they bump against the bags from the tailor tucked carefully under the bench.
Those bags are a present from Sanji, something Koby never thought he could have. The seeds are something he thinks maybe he could have again some day, when he's ready for them.
It's been a good day. Koby thinks of all the promises people have made him lately, of the ones he's starting to make himself, and realizes that for the first time in his life, he doesn't doubt that there are more good days coming.