Everyone on the Sunny knew one thing about you: you didn’t do touch.

No hugs from Nami. No arm slings from Usopp. You even ducked Chopper once when he tried to check your temperature with his fuzzy little hoof. Sanji had learned the hard way after you sidestepped a dramatic bow that nearly landed him in the sea.

You weren’t mean about it. Just… distant. Sharp edges. Walls up.

Physical contact? Not your thing.

So when the crew all gathered under the stars that night — full bellies, warm air, laughter fading into yawns — nobody expected anything different.

You were sitting at the edge of the circle, arms crossed, legs stretched out, barely listening as Brook played something soft on his violin.

Luffy was next to you, of course. He always ended up next to you, even if you didn’t say much. Always easy, always loud, always… there.

You didn’t mind. Not really.

The music lulled the deck into silence. The breeze was slow. Everyone else started nodding off, curling up in blankets or slumping against railings.

You didn’t even realize you were drifting until it happened.

Your head tilted.

Eyes closed.

And landed right on Luffy’s shoulder.

The second it happened, the crew froze.

Zoro looked up from his spot. Nami’s eyes widened. Chopper’s mouth dropped open. Even Robin arched an eyebrow.

Sanji actually dropped a plate.

Luffy looked down at you.

His face softened.

He didn’t move. Didn’t laugh. Just let you stay there — your cheek against his shoulder, breath warm against his collarbone.

Very gently, he tilted his head so his hat shaded you both.

No one said a word.

Because for the first time — you had touched someone else.

And Luffy?

He didn’t stop smiling the rest of the night.