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silentsamlikesham · 2 months ago

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Cat Got Your Tongue? - Zosan Temp!Mute Fic

Thank you to @gingeralejasminetea for the following prompt "sanji or zoro somehow becomes temporarily mute and the other just *happens* to be the only one on the crew that’s able to completely accurately interpret their facial expressions/gestures, leading them to be their translator until their voice comes back" I'm not going to lie I did STRUGGLE with having only one of these idiots being able to speak. I made the brave decision to have Sanji lose the ability to talk and like- Zoro is a man of few words :'D. I'm not fully satisified with the ending to this fic, so maybe someday (not soon) I mayyy write a part 2, we'll see. OKAY ENJOY!! **Not Beta Read. Please excuse any and all mistakes**

Words: 4,350

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Sanji tugged at his red checkered scarf, glaring at the faux grass on the Sunny’s deck as he listened to their tiny doctor finish his explanation to the crew. Chopper had gathered the crew to the deck after finishing his check-up on Sanji after the crew’s last fight. The air was tense from the fury radiating from the chef and he couldn’t bring himself to look at either of the crew’s two fabulous ladies to cheer him up, lest he’s met with eyes of pity.

It was a burst of laughter that broke the silence, the sound reddening Sanji’s face as he turned to glare at the source. Of course, it was the mosshead doubled over the railing, tears streaming down his face as he laughed at Sanji’s expense.

“Zoro!” Chopper chastised, as Nami slapped the swordsman on the arm.

Luffy also began to chuckle from where he was perched under the ship’s mast, Sanji slowly dragged his gaze from Zoro to his captain.

“Sanji, you can still cook meat, right?” Luffy smiled, wide and unapologetic.

The chef nodded his head slowly, confused by the question before he had an armful of his captain to catch as Luffy catapulted himself straight into him. His stretching arms wrapping tightly around Sanji, but careful not to wring around his neck.

“Then let’s have a barbeque!” Luffy decided, the crew laughing and cheering as the mood on the ship changed back to its usual chaotic state.

“Luffy! Don’t squeeze his chest, coughing will be just as bad as talking for his throat.” Chopper wailed, pulling at his Captains foot until Luffy let go of Sanji, unraveling until he snapped back onto the deck.

“Sorry Chopper.” Luffy smiled, not looking the least bit apologetic.

“Does that mean dart-brows can’t smoke, Chopper? I bet that would really slow down the healing process.” Zoro grins, reveling in the look of horror creeping across the cook’s face, slowly twisting into rage as he began marching towards Zoro, his foot already smoking.

The swordsman grinned, his hand going to his nearest hilt as Chopper dived between them.

“NO!” The little reindeer cried out, tears forming in his eyes as he looked between the two of them, knowing the danger of getting in front of either of them when they were about to spar.

“No fighting!” Chopper did his best to keep a wobble out of his voice, relaxing a bit as the two, unwillingly, relaxed their fighting stances. “-and, no smoking.”

Sanji waved his hands around in frustration, pleading with the tiny doctor with his eyes before running a finger across his neck at Zoro to let him know that the swordsman is dead as soon as he recovers.

“Sanji, your throat is really swollen...there’s nothing I can do but tell you to rest it.” Chopper bites his lower lip as it trembles, his voice cracking like he’s about to cry. “Please, just a few days, no smoking, no talking, and-” The small doctor turns to meet Zoro’s eye as he finishes “-no fighting. Okay?”

Sanji looks briefly to the sky, searching the clouds for some strength before he nods at Chopper.

“Whatever.” Zoro yawns, over the whole thing as he realises there’s no more fun to be had. “Not like Curly-brows ever has much to say anyways.”

Sanji’s hands curl into fists as Zoro walks by him, flashing him a shit-eating grin as he knows Sanji can’t bite back with his usual banter and shitty nickname.

“You’ll heal fast, Sanji.” The cook looks down at where Chopper had stopped beside him, looking up at him with his wide eyes and child-like face. “And I’ll check on you every day, so you’ll know when it’s over!”

Sanji lets out a small sigh through his nose, wanting so badly to comfort the little doctor and tell him ‘I know Chopper, you’ve done all you can.’ Instead, all he can do is pat Chopper’s hat and motion for him to follow Sanji into the kitchen. He can’t comfort the doctor with words, but he can give him some chocolate instead.

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Sanji was doing his usual lunch time rounds, dropping drinks and nibbles in front of his different crew mates. He spun out of the kitchen with his customary enthusiasm and excitement. At the last island they’d stocked up on, he’d managed to pick up some local honey and he had spent the afternoon making sweet protein balls out of it, mixing the honey with oats and some with chocolate.

He skipped over to the ladies first. Robin hiding beneath the cover of an umbrella while Nami lay out in the sun, tanning beneath the relentless rays, her skin sparkling from the sunscreen she’d lathered on her skin.

Sanji was swooning from the sight alone. His throat was aching, twitching as he blew a heavy breath from his lungs, longing to serenade the ladies with an onslaught of compliments and small talk.

Instead, as he approached the ladies with his usual twirling and dancing, he could hear the familiar sounds of sniggering and noticed Usopp, Luffy and Chopper hiding nearby.

“Ooooh Nami-Swannn your skin is as radiant as the sun, let me refresh you with the coolest of drinks and the most divine snacks the new world has ever seen.” Usopp did a terrible impression of Sanji, pretending to hold a cigarette in his fingers as he spoke.

The impression had Luffy and Chopper cackling and rolling on the floor as Sanji sent daggers through his eyes at them. Robin chuckled at the sight, leaving Sanji deflated and flustered as he left her drink and nibbles in front of her. She smiled up at him though, thanking him with a warm look in her eyes. It was enough to easily snap Sanji back from his mood and had him twirling around Nami again.

He managed to make his way over to Usopp while the sharpshooter had his back to him, continuing his poor imitation. Sanji felt marginally better as he got to kick the sniper in the back of the head, sending Luffy and Chopper running in fear and leaving Usopp groaning and overreacting on the ground.

He didn’t even kick him that hard, but still Usopp cried up at him and clung to his leg, begging him to stop.

Sanji tried to shake him off, anxiously glancing at the tray of food and drink as Usopp unbalanced him, dragging him left and right. Sanji didn’t easily drop a tray, and Usopp wasn’t that strong, but fear made the sniper erratic, and Sanji would probably cry in frustration if his shitty situation with his throat led to any food waste.

“Oi, Usopp, knock it off. Curly’s gonna kill you if he drops that tray.”

Sanji froze at the words, startled that he was hearing his thoughts spoken aloud.

He glanced over to the swordsman leaning against the mast, he’d been convinced Zoro had been asleep in the shade. But now the mosshead was watching the pair through his one eye, the gaze feeling more intense and violating than usual.

Usopp squeaked in response, throwing himself off Sanji and scampering several feet back from him. Sanji frowned, glaring at Zoro who held his gaze for a mere second before he shut his eye again. Sanji wasn’t used to losing Zoro’s attention so quickly, usually the pair would be foot to blade by now. Even if Zoro had just helped him out, he would have told the Mossball to shut it and keep out of his business and they’d be several bruises deep into an argument by now.

Instead, Sanji had to swallow the comeback he couldn’t speak and continue upon his deliveries. He handed Usopp his drink with a cold glare, earning himself an apology and flurry of excuses before Usopp insisted on helping him hand the rest out.

He served Zoro last, as usual, and the idiot must have been using his haki because he didn’t wait for a kick to the head to wake him up. His eye opened as Sanji got close, the distance at which Sanji would have usually insulted him and called him a name to get his attention. Zoro put a hand out for his drink without being asked and accepted his plate of blander, unsweetened protein balls without a word.

Sanji stared at him, resisting the urge to bite his lower lip in thought as Zoro eventually gave him another glance.

“What, Curly? Cat got your tongue?”

Sanji’s frown deepened, his brows knitting together before he let out a tsk and stomped towards the galley. Once inside, he fiddled with the scarf around his neck, loosening it and letting the fabric fall into a long loop. He looked at the dark line of bruises in the reflection of a hanging pan above the stove, willing the purple and blue skin to heal.

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It was day three of Sanji’s induced muteness and he felt like he was really starting to lose his mind. He’d never appreciated how often he used his words to convey things, to join in on the fun around the ship and to stand up for himself.

The last three days had felt like a comical silent movie, chasing Luffy around the ship when he snuck into the galley, rolling his eyes at his ship mates annoying antics and last night, having to throw Usopp from his bed to wake him up to dispose of a spider in the bunk room.

It was infuriating, it was tiring, and Sanji could feel a headache pulsing behind his eyes from the toll it was all taking. On top of the muteness his sore throat was making it difficult to drink, to sleep, to eat. Pain, Sanji could tolerate, but the hunger pangs he was feeling in his stomach were unnerving.

Needless to say, Sanji was on edge. In fact, he was beyond the edge. He was clinging onto his sanity by his fingernails and right now, his current predicament might just be the final straw.

If Sanji cries in the galley because he can’t find the knife Zeff gave him, the one he uses every day, the one that is basically an extension of his hands, then he might just throw himself off the side of the ship.

He was staring at the kitchen island like he was going mad. His hands moving over the cold marble and brushing over the vegetables that were waiting there to be chopped.

He’d just had it. How could a knife grow legs and walk away? He started lifting any plates and tea towels around him, sure he must have thrown them on top of it by mistake.

A hand curled into his fringe, pulling slightly as Sanji let out a huff of pain. He needed a smoke, he needed a cigarette so badly, but he refused to make the healing process go any slower. There was no way he was going through this for more than a few days.

Right as he was about to bang his head off the marble, someone spoke up from the corner of the room. Sanji flushed red as he jumped, he’d been so engrossed in his search and his poor mood that he hadn’t noticed the Mossball slide onto the couch the far side of the dining table.

“It’s by the sink, Cook.” Zoro scoffed, folding his arms and tucking his chin against his chest, clearly about to nod off for a nap. He doesn’t usually do so in the galley but one glance at the falling mist of rain outside, and it made sense.

Sanji stared dumbly at Zoro for a moment. What was the idiot talking about? Beside the sink? He turned his head, his eyes catching the glint of steel as his knife lay just beside the drying rack. He must have left it there when he threw the pans into the sink to soak.

He looked back to Zoro with a raised brow and a wide eye. How the fuck did he know he was looking for his knife?

But Sanji couldn’t ask and from the soft snores filling the galley, Zoro wouldn’t have replied anyways.

Sanji picked up his knife, spinning it gently in his hand as he fiddled with the handle. He chopped up the vegetables in his usual rhythmic routine, but every time he scooped his prep into a bowl, he snuck a glance at the swordsman.

Since when was Zoro a mind reader?

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By the fifth day, Sanji felt like he was really going insane. No longer because he still couldn’t speak or smoke, but because Zoro was creeping him out. Every time they were in the same room Zoro was making small jabs and comments to Sanji that were almost perfectly in line with the running monologue in Sanji’s head.

It was unnerving to see the Mosshead so aware of someone else. Usually, Zoro brooded in the corner, unmoving in his preference to exclude himself from most shenanigans and conversations on the ship. Now, Sanji was starting to realise the Mosshead was completely aware of what was happening around him and of his crewmate’s thoughts. At least, he seemed to know exactly what was going on in Sanji’s head. The cook was used to feeling that connection with the Mosshead in battle but for the day-to-day stuff, it was startling.

The weirdest thing to happen so far, had happened today. The crew had docked at a small island, inhabited by a group that lived in a village on the southern side of the island.

The log pose was going to take over a day to reset so Luffy had decided they should spend the evening partying on the island and spend a night at a local inn. It hadn’t been an easy thing to arrange with the lovely Nami worried about their budget, but there was no arguing with the captain when he wanted to party, and the rest of the crew were happy to get black out drunk and pass out in a bed that didn’t sway with the ocean.

They’d gone to the nicest restaurant on the island, mainly because Zoro pointed out that Sanji had his eyes on the building from the moment they found the center of the island.

That had been strange enough, that Zoro was actively pushing for something Sanji wanted. But the weirdest part was when they had to order. Usually, Sanji would order for most of the crew. He was easily able to tell what each of them would want most from whatever limited menu they had to order from. Tonight, Zoro hadn’t even paused after his order when he added-

“The curly-brows wants the spicy seafood dish, and a glass of whatever wine will go with it.”

It wasn’t as refined an answer as Sanji would have given the waitress, but it was close enough to the mark that Sanji’s jaw had unlatched as he stared dumbfounded at the brute.

“What?” Zoro scoffed when the waitress disappeared into the kitchen, and he noticed the cook’s eyes on him.

Sanji looked even more pissed off then, wishing more than he had this entire week that he could speak and ask the Swordsman what the fuck was going on.

Instead, the crew interrupted them with their own chatter and chaos and Sanji was forced to sit back in silence for the following hours.

It was only when everyone was heading towards the inn that Sanji had a moment to confront the mosshead. He fell into step with him at the back of the group as they all made their way to the inn. Zoro barely even glanced at him as they walked, and Sanji could feel the tick of annoyance on the back of his head as Zoro stayed silent for nearly the entire stroll.

As they arrived at the inn, Sanji grabbed Zoro’s arm and physically held him back from following the crew through the main entrance,

“What?” Zoro groaned, glancing longingly at where a bed was waiting for him. “What do you want, Cook? Not like you have anything to say.”

Sanji continued to glare at him, his gaze hardening at the callous words.

Zoro eventually glared back, letting out a frustrated tsk as the silence stretched on and Sanji did nothing more than angrily huff at him.

“Look, are we going to fight and not tell Chopper or are you going to let me go the fuck to sleep?”

Sanji’s frown deepened. Surprisingly, he hadn’t been thinking of kicking the moron. He looked away, almost embarrassed by his persistence when he knew he couldn’t voice his frustration. But eventually his glare returned to the Marimo.

He crossed his arms across his chest and tapped his foot insistently, giving Zoro an unamused look. The Mossball just raised his brows in response, like he was egging Sanji to try speak his mind.

“What? What do you want Cook? I’m not a mind reader.”

Sanji groaned angrily at this, waving his arms at Zoro, trying to convey this is exactly what Sanji was trying to speak to him about.

“What? You think I’m a mind reader?”

Sanji just glared in silence now, pursing his lips further.

“Is this about dinner? I should have known you’d be fucking weird about it. You order for me all the time, what’s your problem, did you not like your food?”

Sanji sighed, running a hand through his hair and now deciding it was easier not to look at the Mosshead. He stared stubbornly at one of the lamps hanging off the wall of the inn as he tried to come up with a way to respond.

“That’s not it...” Zoro grumbled, earning Sanji’s attention again as the Cook whipped around to look at him.

Zoro studied him properly then, his one good eye analyzing Sanji’s body language from his feet to his face. It was intimidating, almost embarrassing to have Zoro’s eyes so intensely focused on him, inspecting every shift in Sanji’s stance and ever bounce of his brow.

“Curly, I don’t fucking know what you’re so annoyed about. It’s not my fault you can’t speak.” Zoro sighed, looking tired all of a sudden.

The first mate’s eyes went to Sanji’s scarf. It wasn’t an item of clothing that was remotely needed given the climate of the island, but Sanji had refused to take it off. He didn’t want his cremates staring at the dark reminder of the bruising around his crushed throat. That part, Zoro could understand. Not wanting to show a clear weakness to a crew that often relied on you. He didn’t know why the Cook was bothering him specially though, forcing him into an awkward standstill outside the inn.

At this stage, the pair will be forced to room together, something both of them actively avoided and argued against. By now, the rest of the crew would be buried deep beneath rented duvets as they drifted off to sleep. No one would be willing to swap or listen to Zoro complain.

Sanji sighed loudly in response, looking at Zoro with what he hoped was an exasperated expression. Then, it came to him, the one thing he never needs words for when dealing with Zoro.

He motioned for Zoro to stand still and then made his way around the oaf. He stopped behind Zoro, facing away from the brute and leaning his back against the others.

He can feel the muscles in Zoro’s back tense as he leans his weight against him, can hear the sharp intake of breath the Mossball draws in. Sanji raises his leg gently, the same way he would in a fight and on instinct Zoro’s hand goes to his hilts. As Sanji changes his stance and turns slightly to the right, Zoro automatically reacts, dropping a foot back to cover the left side Sanji opens.

They continue this strange waltz for almost a minute, Sanji almost losing himself in the rhythm as he practices his fight style for the first time since the crews fight several days ago. He pushed himself with a wide arcing kick and as he drew his knee up, he rattles his lungs, forcing an unexpected haggard cough from his throat and ruining his balance as he flinched from the pain of it.

He sways dangerously to the side, his shoulder slipping off Zoro’s and for the first time since he was a kid he feels himself falling from his stance. Before he can crumble to the ground, Zoro shifts behind him, twisting half around until a large hand wraps around Sanji’s bicep, steadying him and stopping his fall.

Sanji blinks owlishly up at the swordsman, holding his breath as he meets a curious but annoyed stare. His face heats up and Sanji hopes the lamp light hides whatever colour is dusting his cheeks.

Sanji doesn’t rush to fix his stance, instead he lets himself hang by Zoro’s grip and brings a finger up to poke pointedly at Zoro’s chest. This is what I’m talking about, shitty Swordsman. He tries to convey the thought in his eyes, in the way he let himself hang there, unfazed if Zoro was going to drop him. It wouldn’t be out of character for the Mosshead, but he knew Zoro would understand the significance of the moment and wouldn’t do it.

He was proven right by Zoro grunting and averting his gaze, a faint blush on his cheeks now complimenting Sanji’s own. He tugged at Sanji’s arm and eventually pulled the Cook to stand upright again, dropping his arm like it burned.

“Cook.” Zoro sighed tiredly, wiping a hand over his face and pushing his knuckles against his eyelids in the hope of focusing his mind a bit. “Are you freaking out because I can read you like an open book?”

Sanji snorted at the phrase, crossing his arms tightly across his chest in distress. Zoro could not read him like a book, Sanji was not that straight forward a man. Zoro clearly was just...just...fuck, what was Zoro doing?

“Curly, you’re not fucking subtle. You express every little emotion in that frantic head of yours the second you think or feel anything.”

Sanji scoffs in disagreement, his eyes narrowing at Zoro’s words as he fiddles uncomfortably with a thread on his suit’s sleeve. The Swordsman was talking nonsense.

“Like right now, you act like you don’t believe a word I’m saying but you’re ripping your sleeve apart because you know I’m right and that makes you freak out and fidget with the nearest thing possible.”

Zoro takes a step closer to Sanji then. His words force Sanji to drop his sleeve and rest his hands by his side, his fingers twitching at the loss. He glares up at the ever so slightly taller man and meet’s his eye without hesitation. Their chests are almost touching, their foreheads inches from one another and Sanji is swallowing every bit of panic swelling in his chest because if he backs down from Zoro now, then it’s going to seem like Zoro is right.

Which he’s not. He’s not freaking out over what Zoro is saying. There’s no way it’s true, Sanji may have his heart on his sleeve for the ladies but otherwise he’s a secretive guy. He’s hidden his upbringing from the crew, hiding his surname from the entire world, fooling even those who print the bounty posters. He’d lied effortlessly in the past, getting the crew out of some tough spots. Sanji was clever, he could be sly, secretive, a mystery.

No one knew what was going on in his head. They might think they do but no one could guess what he was really thinking most of the time. Except apparently, Zoro could. Zoro who hated Sanji most days and who he had thought only understood him when Sanji’s shoe was buried in the side of his head.

“You can deny it all you’d like, Sanji.” Sanji choked on his own spit, coughing brutally as Zoro just grinned, leaning in closer as he reveled in catching the Cook further off guard.

“But I see you. I see right through the bullshit.”

With that, Zoro flashed him a chesire grin, ruffled a hand through Sanji’s hair and brushed past the red-faced cook without another glance.

“Don’t wake me up when you come into the room, or I’ll skewer you.”

The sound of the inn door opening and closing echoed through the empty street. Sanji stayed standing in the center of the cobblestone lane, trying to catch his breath after his mini coughing fit and doing his best to will the flush from his face.

Maybe he could blame that part on the alcohol.

I see you.

Sanji groaned, grabbing a fistful of his hair as he doubled over on the street. What the fuck did that mean? Also, using his real name like that? The bastard had to have known that would get to him.

What an asshole. There’s no way Zoro was intelligent enough to understand a fraction of how Sanji felt or thought about things. He was just getting lucky and using the coincidence to rile the cook up. You can deny it all you’d like- That fucking smug- Sanji wished he could scream at the twinkling stars above.

Sanji spent far too long loitering in the street before he could force himself to march into the inn and face sharing a room with the guy. Hopefully, he was asleep by now, and Sanji knew for a fact he’d be gone long before the oaf woke up in the morning.

He decided the next time he was willing to face the Swordsman, was when he could speak again. Then he could give the asshole a piece of his mind, put the brute in his place and let him know just how wrong he was about everything.

That, or he could just smother him in his sleep.

That would be easier than admitting to himself that his entire perception of the brute had been flipped on its head tonight.

#zosan #roronoa zoro #sanji #zosan fanfic #one piece zosan #fanfic #zoro x sanji #one piece sanji #one piece zoro #zosan fic #No beta we die like Luffy in Filler episode titles #temporary mute character #idiot in love #fic requests

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silentsamlikesham · 2 months ago

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Lads, I wish I could write a one shot fic like a normal person. I'm working on a request at the moment and I have the itch of always writing Zosan somewhat slow burn. I have to write like 5 scenes before the two of them can come to any kind of growth or resolution. I'm at scene 3 right now and wishing I could wrap up the fic sooner instead of feeling like I need to drag the two of them to an understandling. BUT LIKE- It's Zosan??? They're so thick headed and silly and it feels so out of character to rush them. I obviously DO enjoy writing them like this and taking my time with the fics I write but man I wish I could type as quickly as my brain worked through the scenes with them. I've received so many interesting and fun requests I want to try write, but as soon as I get stuck into one I cannot rush myself. I hope this turns out okay :'D

#zosan fanfic #zosan #roronoa zoro #sanji #one piece zosan #fanfic #zoro x sanji

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silentsamlikesham · 2 months ago

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Thank you guys for the requests!!! :D I am currently starting one of them so keep an eye out! I don't know how many I'll get done while I'm off work but I received some amazing suggestions! I'll start with the ones I'm most excited for and see how far I get :)

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silentsamlikesham · 2 months ago

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Been quite busy this year with a new job but going to write over the holidays. Chance to get some requests in if anyones looking for a short zosan fic (Please I need ideas lads)

#zosan #roronoa zoro #sanji #zosan fanfic #fanfic #one piece zosan #one piece sanji #one piece zoro #one piece fanfiction

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silentsamlikesham · 1 year ago

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dude, just wanna say your tickle fics with zoro and sanji are so cute, it’s so detailed and i feel like you capture their characters really well haha.

jusy a little compliment, ignore this if you so desire

— @aceofspades-doodles

Ahhh thank you so much!! This makes me so happy 💞💞

#zosan #roronoa zoro #sanji #zosan fanfic #fanfic #one piece #one piece zosan #zoro x sanji #zoro #vinsmoke sanji #zosan tickle #tickle fic #tickle #ticklish sanji

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silentsamlikesham · 1 year ago

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Hello!!!

I really like your blog,and am quite glad to have found another zosan fanatic like me-

I have a request though...where the two are dating and something happens, I don't care what,where Zoro finally meets Sanji's brothers.

Protective Zoro with an extremely insecure Sanji after seeing his family after all those years, he accidentally says his brothers may be right,that maybe he is pathetic, that he isn't good enough for Zoro. That...he doesn't deserve love after he's done in the past.

Ya don't have to write this,just thought I'd ask while I still had the idea.

I'd love to write something like this in the future! I know a bit about sanjis family but I'm actually on dressrosa myself so when I finish WCI absolutely!

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silentsamlikesham · 1 year ago

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Lads I keep really wanting to write a long-ah fic of Zosan. Some real slow burn heart string pulling plotlines. But I've no idea what to settle on. Soulmates? Lost together? Mind reading devil fruit? I'm lost in the possibilities :(

#zosan #roronoa zoro #sanji #zosan fanfic #fanfic #one piece #one piece zosan #zoro x sanji #zoro

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silentsamlikesham · 1 year ago

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Summary:

Zoro’s heart clenches to think of Sanji dreaming of something happening to his treasure, knowing he’d be screaming bloody murder in his sleep if he dreamt of anything happening to his swords. His hand is rising to brush the other’s bangs back before he even knows what he’s doing, his fingers caressing over the other’s furrowed brow and raking gently through his hair until he’s cupping one side of Sanji’s face.

The other man tenses, stilling in his withering and Zoro freezes himself, waiting for Sanji to open his eyes and swing a kick at his head. He’s not prepared for the soft sigh that leaves the Cook, the blonde turning his head towards the palm of Zoro’s hand. He can feel the deep inhale the cook makes, his cheeks warming as Sanji lets out a low-

“Zoro?”

------------------------- For those of you who prefer to read over on Ao3 <3

#Zoro #sanji #roronoa zoro #zosan #one piece #zosan fic #request #zoro x sanji #fanfic #zosan fanfic

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silentsamlikesham · 1 year ago

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Heyoo! Request here!

Sanji had Nightmares at night?? Zoro then being alerted and trying to calm down the cook. (While also forcing him to go back to sleep XD.)

Anyways that’s all.

Hope you get the idea :]!

(I’m not a good story explainer when it comes to request TvT)

Thanks for the request! Hope you enjoy :) -----------------------------------

Zoro stares at the underside of the top bunk, just visible from the low light creeping through a crack in the door of the boy’s room. He can see the mattress shaking above him, can hear the wood creaking over the noise of Luffy’s and Franky’s snoring. Sanji is twisting and turning, one of his hands flying over the edge of the bunk to hit harshly off the frame of the bed.

His breaths are coming out in laboured wheezes as he seems to pant, like he’s running from something in whatever nightmare has taken hold of him. Zoro lies still, not usually one to wake up in the middle of the night but Sanji’s distress had upset his haki, forcing Zoro awake as though danger was looming nearby. Now, he can’t get back to sleep, his body stiff as he waits for Sanji’s panic to pass.

The cook should settle down soon, right? They all have nightmares like this on the ship. It’s not uncommon for someone to wake with a shout, with their arms outstretched, re-living something terrible. Chopper gets them a lot, climbing into Zoro’s bed with teary eyes and snuggling deep beneath his covers. He finds comfort being near the Swordsman, and honestly Zoro enjoyed feeling one of his crewmates being so close to him, one less person to worry about as he slept.

The cook waking him up is unusual. Not because he doesn’t have nightmares, Zoro knows he does. He can see on his night watches when Sanji is below in the galley, lights on in the middle of the night as he battles with whatever is bothering him. But it’s unusual for him to not immediately wake up and slink off to the kitchen.

Sanji hated being caught off guard by the crew, hated them seeing him as weak. He’s the first to comfort them, to make someone’s favourite snack or offer them tea in the galley as solace from the rest of the rowdy ship. Even with Zoro, who he’s pretty sure he hates, he’ll appear with a bottle of sake and a plate of rice balls when he thinks the Swordsman needs a pick me up. It’s infuriating, and they never speak about it, but it reminds Zoro that the Cook does care about the crew to an admirable extent, even Zoro.

Which makes it even more frustrating that he prickles up whenever someone tries to return the favour. It’s like Sanji is always clutching a dead man’s switch for his temper, waiting for someone to piss him off enough that he can let go and explode. Often, it’s Zoro setting him off.

That’s what makes this so difficult. Lying there in the dark while one of his Nakama is struggling and having no idea how he’s meant to help. If it was Luffy he’d tug his arm and let the boneless man flop onto the bed beside him. If it was Usopp he’d pinch his nose until the sniper awoke with a start, more afraid of Zoro than whatever was bothering him in his sleep. Even with Franky, Zoro knew to make up a problem with the ship so the shipwright would run off to check on it and promptly forget about whatever had him tossing in his sleep.

Sanji yelps in his sleep, his hand disappearing from where it was dangling as the mattress shifts again. If Zoro was to guess, he’s curled in on himself, the mattress dipping on one side only.

Zoro climbs silently out of the bottom bunk, able to see Sanji now as he stands at eye level with the top bunk. The blonde’s face is almost completely covered by his bangs but Zoro can still see half of his left eye, can see how it’s scrunched up tightly as though he’s trying to close them in his sleep, trying to block out whatever image his mind has conjured. He’s drawn his knees up, his arms hidden behind them as he’s folded them against his chest and under his chin, almost as if he’s protecting them.

“Zoro?”

His eyes flutter open, the one not covered by his fringe staring at him in the dark. Sanji blinks slowly, his eyes flicking to the light source at the door and then back to Zoro as he tries to wake up enough to know what’s going on.

“What are you doing?” He whispers, his voice barely loud enough to be heard over the out of sync snores still echoing in the room.

“You woke me up.” Zoro means to say it as an accusation but having to whisper makes everything sound soft...and maybe he is being soft with the cook, just this once.

“Sorry.”

The cook pulls away from Zoro’s hand as though he’s been burned, his eye flicking away from Zoro embarrassed. Shit. He half sits up in the bed, his hand twisting in the sheets as he clenches them.

“I’ll go to the galley.” He decides, turning from Zoro to hop down to the opposite side of the bunk. His shoulders are hunched up to his ears, his arms trembling as they hold his body upright.

“Don’t be stupid.” Zoro grumbles, reaching across the bed to tug on the back of Sanji’s night shirt. “It’s too early to start on breakfast, idiot-cook.”

“I’ll just wake more people up.” Sanji mutters, refusing to turn but slumps back, no longer poised to leap.

Zoro bites the inside of his cheek, uncertainty hanging heavily between them as Zoro wracks his brain for the best response. Overthinking stupid stuff like this is not his strong point and he decides after a moment of silence that it’s pointless for him to try do so.

He catches the side of the frame of the upper bunk and hoists himself up, throwing his legs onto the bed and lying down behind the Cook.

“I’ll wake you up if you start being loud again.” Zoro crosses his arms over his chest, amused by the jump in Sanji’s shoulders as he feels the bed dip, his head turning slowly to glance warily at his crewmate.

“What are you doing?”

“I just told you-”

“You- you don’t need to sleep in my bed to do that.” Sanij stutters. Zoro can’t be sure in the dark, but he’s certain the Ero-Cook must be blushing right now, if the wiggle in his body is anything to go by.

“I’ll do what I want.” Zoro retorts with a quiet snort, closing his eyes.

Sanji doesn’t move at first. Zoro wonders if he’s made a mistake. If Sanji will storm off to the kitchen in a rage and leave Zoro in his bed.

He has to stop himself from jumping in surprise when he feels Sanji shift and lie down beside him. They’re both lying on their backs, their shoulders pushed uncomfortably against one another’s as they barely fit in the small frame of the single bunk.

The cook is breathing in uneven bursts, clearly overthinking the arrangement and any noise he’s making. Zoro tries to ignore it, hoping that the cook will just drift off to a dreamless sleep soon but after several minutes it starts to grate on him.

“Will you just relax?” He whispers, turning to stare at the completely rigid man.

Sanji just sneers at him, twisting his head enough to glare at Zoro. He quickly looks away though as soon as the Cook seems to realise just how close their heads are when they turn to each other.

He doesn’t argue back though, doesn’t lose his temper or flip himself off the bed. Zoro takes this as a win and decides if the Cook is going to be this insufferable about the situation, Zoro is just going to have to push his luck.

He lets out a frustrated grunt and turns on his side, his arm reaches out over Sanji’s narrow waist, as he easily grabs hold of his furthest hip, drawing the Cook against him. Sanji gasps, biting his bottom lip to stop himself from yelling and waking up his sleeping crewmates. The last thing he wants is for anyone to see what has just happened.

“Calm down Curley, I’m just getting comfortable.” Zoro mutters, his lips so close to Sanji’s ear that he can’t help but shiver as he feels the heat of Zoro’s breath.

“If you’re so uncomfortable then go back to your own bed.” Zoro didn’t think it was possible, but Sanji is even more tense now, his hands curled into fists by his side. He can’t seem to lie still, his tense muscles quivering from the strain. Zoro lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Do you always have to be this difficult?”

That halts Sanji’s weak attempts at wiggling away from him. The Cook freezes, his breath hitching as he falls silent. Zoro glances at his face, trying to see his expression in the grey light of the shadowed corner of the room, but all he can see is Sanji’s bangs and his chin trembling. If Zoro didn’t know him, he might think the Cook is finally relaxing but he can tell what Zoro just said has upset him.

“Curley?”

Sanji doesn’t answer him, doesn’t even react when Zoro tightens his forearm to lightly squeeze him. Zoro waits patiently, wondering if Sanji will ignore him until he falls asleep. He’s not prepared for Sanji to shift his weight, twisting his body until he lands on his side, his face pressing against Zoro’s chest. Zoro’s arm slides forward, landing on the small of Sanji’s back.

“Sorry.” Zoro barely hears him; only certain he spoke because he can feel Sanji mouthing the word against his bare chest.

Now it’s Zoro’s turn to freeze, not expecting Sanji to break through his own stubborn walls this easily. Slowly, he relaxes, the tension draining from his body as he melts into the mattress, his head resting high on the pillow, his chin tickled by Sanji’s hair.

“Stop saying that.” Zoro mumbles, his tone void of any actual anger or frustration. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for, Shit-Cook.”

Sanji seems to choke on a laugh, the barest hints of a sob blending with the noise.

“Since when are you so nice?”

Zoro blinks in response, taken aback by the comment.

“I’m nice.” Zoro growls, feeling his cheeks warm. “You’re always just pissing me off.”

Sanij doesn’t have an answer for that, but Zoro can feel him laughing under his breath, can feel his lips curling against his skin.

They lie in comfortable silence this time. Zoro waits to hear Sanji’s breathing slow, to feel the other doze off. Despite relaxing though, Sanji stays awake. His body might have settled but Zoro can feel the cogs turning in his head, the buzz of his thoughts keeping him from slipping away.

“Cook, you're thinking too loud.” Zoro complains, cutting the other off as he opens his mouth “And don’t say sorry again.”

Sanji stops as his mouth forms the word and instead lets out an angry puff of air.

“Normal people can’t just empty their heads like you, Marimo.”

Zoro rolls his eyes, hoping Sanji can sense his exasperated reaction.

“Just go to sleep, Mosshead. I’ll be fine.”

Zoro frowns at that. The whole point of him being up in this bunk is to help Sanji get to sleep.

“You’re not even trying.” Zoro grumbles, not looking forward to how cranky the Cook will be tomorrow if he doesn’t get more sleep.

Sanji stays silent. Zoro can feel him shifting his arms, so his hands rest curled between their chests. It can’t be comfortable sleeping on one of his arms and having his other crammed between them, but Sanji lies like that unmoving for what feels like hours. Eventually he replies.

“I don’t want to go back to sleep.”

Zoro lets out a low hum of acknowledgement.

“Why?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Cook-”

“No.”

Zoro wishes he could bang his head off something, but he’s pretty sure he’ll wake someone up if he chooses the headboard behind him.

“I’m not going to judge you or bring it up again.” Zoro argues, wondering if Sanji really thought so lowly of him that he would do either of those things.

“I know that Shit-head.”

“Then why are you being so stubborn?”

“It’s none of your damn business why I don’t want to sleep.”

“It is when you’re going to be extra annoying tomorrow.”

“Fuck you.” Sanji tries to wiggle away, pushing off Zoro’s chest with his hands. “I’m going to the galley.”

“Not a chance.” Zoro tightens his arm on the blonde, making Sanji’s attempts a futile effort.

“Let go.”

“Ooh, you’re so scary.” Zoro can’t help the grin stretching across his face at the indignant sound Sanji makes from Zoro’s mocking.

The smile doesn’t last long though, not when Sanji draws one of his legs up, lightly kneeing Zoro in the groin.

“What the hell Cook?” Zoro wheezes, it wasn’t hard enough to make him shout, to alert anyone else in the room. But fuck, his balls were throbbing.

Sanji uses his flinch to duck out from under Zoro’s arm, leaning to grab the edge of the bed to pull himself away.

Zoro lets out a snarl before he follows the cook, lifting himself so he can wrap both arms around Sanji’s chest, drawing him back down against the mattress. He flings a leg over Sanji’s hip, rolling the Cook onto his stomach so he can pin his torso and hips to the bed. Hopefully keeping him from kicking out at him again.

It’s not a position that Zoro would usually win in, not with how sharply Sanji can swing his legs around to get out of it. But doing so would be loud, and from the way Sanji is panting and is unmoving beneath him, tells Zoro all he needs to know. Winning is not worth waking the crew up.

“I win, Ero-Cook. Now tell me.” Zoro is speaking directly into Sanji’s ear, his lips ghosting the shell of his ear as he speaks quiet enough that not even someone on the bottom bunk would have been able to hear them.

Sanji shudders, clenching his eyes shut at the sensation, as the pit in his stomach seems to fill with a foreign warmth. He sighs into his pillow, the fight leaving his tired body.

“I- I keep having the same dream- or nightmare, I guess.” Sanji is mumbling the words, if Zoro wasn’t pressed up against him, he’d probably miss them. Even now he can hear the static between them as he strains his ears to make out every word.

“It always ends the same...I have to give up my hands.”

“For what?” Sanji flinches as Zoro’s words tickle the edge of his ear.

“It changes every time...sometimes it’s the crew, the All Blue...” Sometimes it’s you, Sanji thinks, but doesn’t have the courage to say.

Zoro thinks hard, trying to imagine what would make him feel better if he had dreams like that. Then again, Sanji isn’t him.

“No one’s taking your hands, Curley.” Zoro whispers calmly, his tone leaving no room for an argument. Zoro would never let that happen, thus it won’t.

Sanji doesn’t have the words to respond to Zoro’s confidence. The Swordsman can’t know that, can’t promise that. Not in their line of work. Still, the sentiment makes Sanji feel better, as strange as that is to acknowledge.

“Okay.”

Zoro smiles into Sanji’s hair. He could get used to winning fights with the Cook.

“Zoro, I can’t breathe.”

The use of his name is surprising, but it does spur Zoro to move quicker than he might have with one of the Cook’s stupid nicknames.

He drags his leg off Sanji, falling beside him and drawing his arms back as he does. He ends up pushing one of his arms under Sanji’s neck, the other curling around his waist as he presses his body against Sanji’s back.

It’s the most comfortable way to share the bed, but Zoro still prepares himself for another argument. For Sanji to get flustered and embarrassed about being the small spoon.

But he surprises Zoro again, leaning back against his chest and resting his head on Zoro’s bicep. He doesn’t speak again, just lays there mimicking Zoro’s breathing, matching the rise and fall of the chest behind him until he drifts off.

Zoro doesn’t fall asleep. At first, he thinks he’s too riled up from their brief spat of wrestling but that’s never affected him before.

Zoro can always fall asleep when he wants to.

Sanji is a quiet sleeper when he’s not dreaming. Zoro would think he’d stopped breathing if he couldn’t feel the little puffs of air against his arm. His hair is annoying, falling across Zoro’s face and making him want to sneeze or brush it all to the side. He’s cold too, nothing like Chopper who’s like a little hot water bottle in bed. Also, Zoro’s arm is probably going to go dead from where the Cook is lying on it.

No wonder Zoro can’t sleep.

That’s what he tells himself as he lies there awake for the rest of the night.

Until Sanji stirs and lies there awake with him, unaware the Swordsman heart is thumping in his chest.

The Cook slides out of the bunk to start on breakfast and Zoro waits until the door closes, until he can sense Sanji moving across the deck and towards the galley.

He rolls onto his stomach, burying his head into Sanji’s pillow when he’s certain he’s not returning to the room. It smells of all the fancy products the idiot puts in his hair mixed with the reek of cigarettes.

It’s disgusting.

Zoro’s late for breakfast.

He never slept a wink.

#zosan fanfic #zosan #one piece zosan #roronoa zoro #sanji #fanfic #one piece #zoro x sanji #zoro #vinsmoke sanji #Zosan nightmares #request #sanji x Zoro fanfic

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silentsamlikesham · 1 year ago

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Thank you guys so much for over 100 followers!! The support I've gotten for my fics have been so heartwarming 💞💞 I'm glad to have found so many fellow Zosan stans on here ❤

Requests will be open for the next while to say thanks 💚💛

#one piece #fanfic #zosan fanfic #one piece zosan #thank you #zosan

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silentsamlikesham · 1 year ago

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Go To Bed

Request from @luffys-little-sister-lyloa ! I'm so sorry this took so long and I kind of...ran a bit wild with it! Apologies if you wanted this pre-established I just started writing it and I ended up with angry confused boys...Hope you enjoy <3 Wordcount: 4,845 -------------------------------------------

The crew is a mess. After the last island, most of them are confined to their beds. Their injuries range from painful breaks to almost fatal wounds. Sanji had spent the last two days being one of the four crewmates able to do anything. Chopper, Brook and Zoro being the other three.

They'd gotten separated on the last island and hadn't faced as much as the others. Sanji had been thrown from a cliff, unconscious while most of his crew was being beaten to an inch of their lives.

He lets out a yelp as the spoon in his soapy hand bends, and then snaps in two. He drops it on the counter, carefully examining his hand to see if he'd bruised or nicked himself.

Fuck.

This is not the time to hurt himself, to draw any attention to himself. He needs to get these dishes clean. He needs to start on dinner. He needs to make snacks to help with recovery. He needs to clean the galley- no, the ship. The whole ship is a mess. He can't have his crew recover in this filthy environment. He needs to do a stock check. Do they have enough of everything? Is there enough food? When can they even risk docking again?

The hot water sears his skin as he dips plate after plate in, scrubbing them until his fingers feel only smooth porcelain, until the dried lumps of food are washed away entirely. He cleans one after another, the pile diminishing slowly as he moves to dry and place them away at the same time.

His legs ache from running, his whole body is bruised from his fall, a headache buzzes just behind his eyes, but he can't stop. He doesn't need to rest; the others need to rest. He needs to be useful, to fucking do something.

He didn't do anything on the last island.

The last dish lands in the cabinet with an echoing clank. Sanji doesn't even pause as he moves for a cloth, washing down the counters of the kitchen. His elbow complains, his shoulder cries in pain as it stretches and the inside of Sanji's cheek bleeds as he gnaws away at it.

The sharp pain is enough to distract him. He just needs to focus.

He brings damp cloths down to the infirmary next, wiping the sweat from his crewmates that have passed out. He stays with Robin who has woken up for a bit. He reads some of her book to her, barely keeping his eyes open as he speaks as clearly and quietly as he can.

She nods off to sleep moments before Sanji is coming close to joining her. He rubs at his eyes, pressing his palms harshly against them. The light from the hall shows dark stars dancing around Sanji. The veil of sleep creeping into his vision.

He ignores the call. There’s still so much to do.

He finds himself standing in the pantry, wondering how he got here. He must have walked. Why doesn't he remember walking?

He stares at the boxes and finds there's a notebook in his hand. Right. He'd grabbed it from his locker.

He pockets it, grabbing the first box of fresh food. He needed to deal with these first, check for mold, plan the next meals around them. He drops them on the kitchen table and jumps as the table rocks against him.

Why did that surprise him?

He opens the lid, ignoring how clunky and strange his hands feel. The lid slides off the bench beside him and onto the ground. Sanji goes bright red from how harshly he jumps at the noise.

He feels drunk. Is this some belated effects of his head injury?

He shakes his head, feeling no shots of pain. He must be fine. He's just tired. His body is tired after two days, that's all. But that's fine, fine, fine, fine. His mind is sharp. He can still help. He can still work. He can't sleep anyways. Not with so much to do.

He just needs to count, to write figures down, some basic maths and move around some heavy boxes. That's nothing. It's nothing compared to what he did in the Baratie. Heck, he usually has to do this work fighting off a hungry Luffy.

This is easy.

Zoro wanders into the galley. He'd been asleep on the deck for most of the day, having taken watch during the night. He'd been vaguely aware of what the crew had been up to, had heard Sanji moving between the galley and the crew, had heard Brook playing his violin from the crow’s nest and had been annoyed several times by Chopper to have his bandages changed.

He assumed Sanji and Chopper had headed to bed. He's meant to take over Brook's watch soon. It's best that the doctor and their second-best fighter, currently upright, are free during the day.

Keeping that in mind, Zoro finds himself blinking slowly in the doorway of the galley. His plan was to grab something strong and head to the crow's nest. He's not expecting Sanji to have forgotten to blow out the lanterns, to have left so much out on the table. He's not expecting Sanji to be standing hunched over a notebook, his visible eye flicking between several open crates and his hand moving aggressively across the open page.

Usually, Sanji would notice Zoro right away. The cook had a sixth sense for people trying to enter his space and he was usually greeted by an insult by now, or a yell to get the fuck out. But the Cook hasn’t noticed him. He seems engrossed in his task.

Zoro watches him from the doorway. The lanterns cast a sharp shadow across the blonde’s face and it’s easy to see the dark circles under his eyes, the fresh litter of bruises that colour his forearms visible from where he’s rolled up his sleeves. He’s sitting hunched for once, always one to keep a good posture, no matter how sore or tired he seems. His hair is greasy, almost sticking to the side of his face where it usually rests, rather than hanging there.

All of these are signs that something is wrong, but what really makes Zoro worry is when he takes a few more loud steps into the room. The Cook jumps, caught off guard, and his eyes flick groggily to Zoro.

“What do you want?” Sanji’s tone is flat, he doesn’t use a nickname or an insult. His cheeks flush pink, like he’s flustered, like he knows he’s been caught out.

“A drink.” A quiet pause stretches, and Zoro feels a twist in his stomach. The request usually brings out a raging fire in the form of the other’s temper. But Sanji just waves a hand towards the liquor trolley, his eyes flicking back to his work.

“What are you doing?” Zoro ignores the invitation to take what he wants and instead wanders over to the table. He receives a half-hearted glare for it but takes it as a win when Sanji just sighs and tosses some fruit back into a box.

“Stock check.”

“Oh. Is it...okay?” Zoro knows nothing about keeping track of food, beyond knowing what goes off quick on a pirate ship. He couldn’t fathom how Sanji keeps it all in check. He tries to glance at the ledger the cook is scribbling in, but the writing is swirly and looped tightly together and Zoro can’t make any of it out in the dim light.

“We’re fine.” Sanji flinches when Zoro looks sharply at him, the swordsman catching the wobble in his voice, the dread that seeps in because Sanji isn’t certain himself. They have enough food for a while, for at least a couple of weeks. But there’s a hunger gnawing at Sanji, a tension in his clenched fists that says otherwise. He just can’t convince himself that he hasn’t screwed this up. That he won’t wake up tomorrow and find half of their rations gone.

“Good.” Zoro doesn’t argue, doesn’t ask why Sanji seems to be trembling, his leg tapping furiously off the ground. “Then you should go to bed, I can put these away.”

Zoro waves a hand at the few crates still left sitting on the table. Sanji looks at them like he’s seeing them for the first time before his expression hardens again, a scowl directed at Zoro.

“No, you’ll put them back wrong. It’s fine, I’ve some other stuff to do anyways.”

Zoro’s tilts his head and looks at Sanji like he’s lost it. Sanji drags his chair back, standing up and glaring at Zoro.

“What? Go on your watch, Marimo. You’re pissing me off.”

“No.”

“No?” Sanji squints at Zoro in the low light, staring at him like he’s grown a second head.

“You haven’t slept, have you?” Zoro folds his arm. He reminds Sanji of some disapproving parent.

“What the fuck is it to you, shithead?” Sanji does not have the mental capacity for an argument right now. He needs to get the crates away and then...then he’ll tidy...he’ll clean something.

“You look like shit.”

“Wow, thanks.” Sanji scoffs, ignoring the idiot to pick up the first crate.

Zoro doesn’t let it go. Not when he notices how slow Sanji is moving, how sluggish he is as he tries to find a grip on the box. Without hesitation Zoro slams a hand on the crate, banging it back onto the table

“What the fuck, Marimo?”

“I said, you’re going to bed.”

“Fuck off.”

“I mean it.”

“I don’t take orders from you.” Sanji scoffs, dropping the box to grab the opening of Zoro’s green jacket and tug him close enough that Zoro can feel spit hit his chin.

“Captains out cold.” Zoro growls, grabbing Sanji’s wrists, their gazes locking into their usual heated glare. “That means I’m in charge.”

“Bullshit.” Sanji scoffs. Since when has Zoro ever taken charge?

“Mutiny, Cook?” Zoro grins, knowing the best way to handle this is to get the blonde riled up enough to comply.

“You can’t just order me to go to sleep.” Sanji narrows his eye and attempts to pull back, but Zoro keeps him close refusing to drop his wrists.

“I just did, Ero-Cook.”

Sanji let out a long breath through his nose, his frustration building.

“Let go.”

“Go to bed.”

“Why do you fucking care?” Sanji snaps, his composure in tatters as he realises he’s shaking. Like he can feel his whole body shaking. It’s the kind of embarrassing energy that makes Sanji want to lash out or cry. He’s not about to cry in front of Zoro of all people.

His leg is swinging before he can think to aim or put any real power behind it. He can’t twist his hips much while being held in place, so he ends up with a weak swipe at Zoro’s shoulder.

The swordsman drops one of Sanji’s wrists to block the kick. Instead of knocking it away, he loops his arm under Sanji’s knee and holds tight.

“Bed.”

“Die.”

“Why are you so stubborn!” Zoro groans, dropping Sanji’s leg so he can grab the man by the shoulders and gently shake him.

“Why are you acting like my sleep schedule is any of your business.”

“Because it is!”

“As if, Marimo. Since when do we care about each other?”

“I’m the first mate, it’s my job to look after the crew.”

“Well, I’m perfectly fine so why don’t you worry about the ones actually injured?”

“You’re shaking, dart brows.”

“It’s cold in here!” Sanji cringes at his own retort, knowing it’s bullshit. The galley is always the warmest room on the ship and tonight was humid, the air stale outside.

“Liar.”

“Fuck off!”

“You seriously have the energy for this right now?” Zoro groans, letting go of Sanji’s shoulders to wave his hand angrily in front of his face. “What is so goddamn important it can’t wait until tomorrow? Do you not get we’re the only two that can properly protect the ship right now? I don’t need to be worrying about you too. So, stop acting like a selfish brat.”

The words stung. They cut deeper into Sanji’s soul than anything else the pair have ever thrown at each other. Of course, he understood what was happening. He was ready to beat the crap out of anyone that came near the ship right now. Selfish? Was it selfish to want everything perfect for the crew? Was it selfish to want to make up for how useless he was before, to make it up to his crewmates who couldn’t even lift their heads right now? Did Zoro not get this is all his fault? That he’s meant to be like this now, suffering.

For a haunting moment, Sanji is certain he’s going to burst into tears. His eyes are burning, he can feel a lump in his throat, knows if he speaks again his voice will crack and break. He’s so tired, so fed up with the way his mind is spinning the same thoughts around again and again. He can’t break, not now.

So, Sanji does the only other thing he knows how to do when he’s feeling this much emotion. He lunges at Zoro, swinging his legs in a frenzied rage.

“I’m not asking you to fucking worry about me!” Sanji roars, his shoe smacking satisfyingly into the side of Zoro’s head.

“You Shitty-Cook.” Zoro hisses in pain, his eyes narrowing to angry slits as the pain blossoms across his skull, rattling his teeth. What is wrong with this guy?

“If I have to kick your ass to get you to sleep, I will.” It’s the only warning Zoro gives before he unsheathes his swords.

He lunges low and uses the end of one of his hilts to drive a punch into Sanji’s gut. The Cook wheezes, coughing as he brings his knee up high to deflect the rest of the impact. Zoro manages to lift his head in time to avoid it, his chin just barely brushing off the fabric of Sanji’s pants.

Zoro’s second sword cuts through the air, the blunt side aiming for Sanji’s temple, but the Cook is quicker again. He ducks and uses the momentum to place a hand on the ground and swing his hips fully around, launching both his legs in a hurricane kick at Zoro.

The Swordsman jumps back just in time before both of them rush forward, two swords clashing with a now flaming shin. Zoro is barely breathing, his focus completely on the fight. That’s when he realises just how out of it Sanji is. Operating on pure adrenaline, Sanji's breaths are already labored, and his anchored leg trembles under the strain of supporting his full weight.

“As if you could.” Sanji taunts, trying to keep a veil of confidence between them. His stomach is aching from where Zoro just left a fresh bruise. Usually, the pain would be a comfort, would be something to focus on while fighting but now it felt more like the beginning of the end for Sanji. The room is spinning, he has cotton mouth, his eyes are struggling to focus and keep up with the glint of Zoro’s swords.

“Why-” Zoro pulls his swords out of the ‘X’ position they’re in, drawing them outwards and letting Sanji stumble forward, the Cook losing the place he’d been leaning all his weight on.

“-are you pulling this shit right now?”

Zoro leans forward as Sanji stumbles, making sure the other hits face first into his chest. Sanji tries to push off him but for once his feet aren’t co-operating with him. His shin extinguishes as he embarrassingly trips over his own feet.

Zoro uses the misstep to wrap his arms tightly around Sanji, pinning him to his chest while his swords hang in the air either side of Sanji’s head. Sanji tries weakly to break his hold by pushing his back into Zoro’s arms but they’re like two flexible metal rods twisting around him. The position is awkward for his legs too, it’s impossible for Sanji to find enough leverage to get into any of his usual stances.

“Answer me, Cook.” Zoro growls, starting to get genuinely pissed off. He needs to go on his watch, and he needs to know that when his watch is over, Sanji can take over. That someone capable is on standby when Zoro gets his own rest, takes his own breaks. Their crew needs them right now and Zoro has no idea why Sanji is choosing now to be so insufferable. He might just kill the guy if this ends up being about Nami asking him to do her chores or something.

“I’m not-” Sanji struggles in Zoro’s hold as he grits out a response. “-pulling anything, shitty Swordsman. You’re the one being a dick- Fucking, let me go.”

With his strength dwindling Sanji goes for a dirty move, he pushes his knee forward, trying to get Zoro in the groin but he misses, kneeing him hard in the hollow of his hip instead.

“Bastard.” Zoro flinches, his body jerking for a moment as if the Cook had just hit his mark. Zoro drops his swords and uses his hands to twist Sanji around, pulling his back against Zoro’s chest and wrapping his arms around him again, pinning Sanji’s upper body in place and making sure he can’t knee him again.

“See how weak you are right now? You can’t even match me, Ero-Cook. How do you think you’re going to hold up against an actual enemy? Are you really this stupid?”

“Shut up!” Sanji yelps, doing his best to struggle against the wall of muscle behind him. He tries to dig his heels into the ground to get some kind of momentum to push off, but all his limbs are starting to feel like they’re submerged in water. It’s like he’s coordinating himself in slow motion.

“Let me go you fucking brute.” Sanji slams his head back against Zoro’s shoulder, his frustration boiling over.

“Did you hit your head when you fell from that cliff? I think it’s given you brain damage.” Zoro growls in his ear, tightening his grip enough that Sanji is gasping for his next breath, his ribs pushing against his lungs.

Sanji flinches at the comment. He barely remembers the fall. One moment he was rushing towards the crew as a devil fruit user pounded into Chopper and Robin and the next moment he was being pushed by a force he couldn’t even see. He’d grappled with the rock the whole way down, desperate to stop his fall but then there was a sharp pain cutting into the back of his head and the next thing he knew he was waking up back on top of the cliff, lying on the ground beside his other injured crewmates.

He failed them.

He was useless.

Zoro is still talking in his ear, but Sanji can’t discern his words anymore. The world around him begins to blur, and the once distinct lanterns in the galley transform into mere shards of light, losing their clear definition. Their white haze fogs Sanji’s view, making everything look strange and further away as the world seems to break into colourful blobs of nothing.

“Are- are you crying?” Zoro splutters, staring over Sanji’s shoulder in disbelief.

Sanji should be embarrassed. His rival, Zoro, is seeing him like this. But now that the dam is broken Sanji doesn’t have the energy to feel humiliated. He can’t stop seeing the blood on the side of Nami’s head, the harboured breathing from Usopp, Chopper clutching his arm as he tried to treat everyone...how much of that could he have prevented?

“Are you more injured than you’re letting on?” Zoro accuses, moving to push Sanji away as the blonde had stopped fighting him, but when Sanji’s knees buckle, he grabs him by the waist again.

“I’m fine.” Sanji insists, only to sob loudly as he tries to take in a deep breath.

“You’re losing it.” Zoro decides, having no idea how to handle Sanji when the other isn’t trying to kill him.

“You’re getting some sleep, Cook. End of story.” Zoro doesn’t leave any room for discussion as he starts marching to the door of the galley. He half-lifts Sanji in front of him, carrying him like a barrel out of the room.

“Stop treating me like a child.” Sanji yelps, feeling winded by the forearms digging into his stomach as he desperately rubs at his eyes.

Zoro must hear the choking in his speech because Sanji feels him moving his arms. A part of him is relieved at the idea of Zoro getting the fuck away from him while he’s having a complete mental breakdown, the other part feels a pang of disappointment.

An embarrassing squeal stops Sanji’s train of thought, sadly coming form his own mouth, as one of Zoro’s arms slips lower. Suddenly, Sanji feels the back of his knees being knocked out as Zoro scoops him into his arms bridal style.

“What are you doing?” Sanji snivels, wanting to yell and kick the other in the face, but instead his words are starting to slur. Now that he’s horizontal, he can’t fight his body relaxing, his eye lids drooping as his head hits off Zoro’s chest, his crewmate's heartbeat thumping rhythmically against his ear.

Zoro looks down at Sanji with a raised brow, but Sanji isn’t glaring at him. He’s nestled his face against Zoro’s pec, his breathing evening out as he drifts off to sleep.

Zoro stands there stupidly for a moment. The cook weighs nothing to him but his presence is heavy. His hair is tickling Zoro’s neck and chin, his breaths are hot against Zoro’s skin and Zoro has made the mistake of resting one of his hands on one of Sanji’s bulging thighs. Zoro can feel the back of his neck heat up as his thoughts betray him.

“I have no idea.” Zoro whispers his response to Sanji’s last question, heading towards the Sunny’s crow's nest.

“This isn’t the boy’s room.” Sanji slurs when Zoro knocks the door closed with his foot.

“No shit, dumbass.” Zoro grunts without any real heat behind the words. Sanji seems to pull enough strength together to lift his head because Zoro now has a piercing blue eye glaring at him.

“Wha-whatda I doing ‘ere?” Zoro can’t help but snigger at how incoherent Sanji is becoming. The rumbling of his chest makes the Cook sigh, slouching his head back again.

Zoro does not trust Sanji to stay in bed right now. He is also becoming increasingly concerned that the other has internal bleeding in his brain or something from how he’s acting.

“I’m making sure you sleep so I get to nap after.” Zoro grumbles, moving to drop Sanji on the bench that curves the length of the crew’s nest.

“Prick.” Sanji snorts, making Zoro roll his eyes. He suddenly feels a whole lot better about dumping the Cook on the hard wood planks.

“What the fuck?” Sanji puts a hand up to the back of his head, rubbing at the spot where it connected with the wood while he tries to sit back up.

“Sleep.” Zoro pushes down on one of Sanji’s shoulders and watches with amusement as Sanji’s elbow slips out from under him and he ends up banging his head again.

“Ow, stop doing that.” Sanji waves his hand blindly trying to slap at Zoro but only ends up brushing Zoro’s forearm with the strength of a fatigued kitten.

“And I can’t just sleep on hard wood like you, you neanderthal.”

“What you want a pillow, princess?” Zoro snorts, crossing his arms.

“Yes.” Sanji mumbles, trying to cushion his head on his arms.

Zoro is prepared to turn to the metal bar in the crow’s nest to start his pull-ups but then his eyes catch the glint of still drying tear streaks on Sanji’s cheeks and suddenly he’s feeling the rare emotion of guilt. He had to go and fucking cry, didn’t he?

Zoro channels his frustration into grabbing Sanji by the hair and yanking his head up. The blonde lets out a yelp, trying to grab Zoro’s hand as he thrashes on the bench.

“Calm down, Shit-Cook.” Zoro sits down on the bench, pulling Sanji’s head back down onto his thigh.

Despite how groggy his movements are, it’s obvious how quickly Sanji tenses up.

“What are you doing?” He tries to sit up, but Zoro still has a handful of blonde locks and with a hiss of pain he puts his head back down.

“Sleep.” Zoro snarls.

“You’re bossy.”

“And you sound like an idiot right now.”

They’re silent for the next minute. Zoro twists his head to look out the window, keeping an eye on the empty sea around them. He’s convinced Sanji has nodded off but then-

“You can let go of my hair now.” Sanji mumbles, his words vibrating off Zoro’s thigh.

Zoro jumps, glaring down at his traitorous hand that’s still gripping Sanji’s hair like a dumbbell.

“Shit, sorry.” He drops the hair, brushing the strands down.

Sanji lets out a low hum at the gesture, surprising them both. Zoro notes how his shoulders drop, his hands unfurl from fists and instead are brought to curl under his chin, as though he’s trying to get comfortable.

So, Zoro doesn’t stop. He pointedly looks back to the window, his cheeks dusted with a light pink that Sanji would have a field day over if he was to look up right now. His fingers card through the long strands, startled to find shorter spikier parts down the Cook’s neck. His nails scratch across skin and Zoro is sure Sanji is going to find some second wind and break his hand with a kick, but it never comes.

He knows the Cook hasn’t fallen asleep. He can tell by the irregularities in his breathing, the way he keeps shifting his weight, the tension that Zoro could cut with one of his swords if he was to try. Zoro has no idea what’s going on in the other’s mind, but he can feel it humming with words, like a frenzied beehive. Just as Zoro is about to lose his patience and threaten to knock Sanji out to get him to sleep, the curly browed idiot breaks the silence.

“Thanks, Zoro.”

What the hell does that mean?

“Whatever.”

Eventually Sanji does pass out. Zoro lets out a long breath he’d been holding back, desperate for a drink but realising he’s not going to be able to get up for anything for the next few hours. He’s still brushing through Sanji’s hair, stupidly mesmerized by how soft it is, how it falls like silk through his fingertips. It’s too intimate for them, Zoro knows this, but he thinks of how stressed Sanji had looked earlier when he was alone in the galley, how small he’d seemed in his arms. A shadow of the man Zoro fought side by side with.

Zoro isn’t someone that’s good at comforting people. He’d never liked being comforted; he’d loathed anyone who had tried to pity him after Kuina, or treated him differently for months because of it. He was always at a loss when someone cried in front of him, glad that in recent times the crew were always there to react instead of him.

But this is Sanji.

Zoro doesn’t know what that excuse means. Why his mind fills in the answer to what the fuck am I doing with it’s Sanji, but it does.

So, Zoro plays with his hair. He swallows hard when a hand snakes its way under his thigh like it’s a damn pillow and he doesn’t move it. He even closes the one open window he was enjoying the breeze from just because the idiot shivers once.

Zoro doesn’t even know why Sanji is upset.

It doesn’t matter.

No ships attack in the night.

Most of the crew sleep soundly, recovering in their beds. Tomorrow, Sanji and Zoro won’t bring any of this up. They’ll argue and fight as normal and no one will know what transpired.

But Zoro will know how soft Sanji’s hair is. He’ll know the Cook likes it being played with. He’ll remember the weight of Sanji’s head on his lap and the weight in his chest that lifted just watching Sanji drift off.

Sanji will be rested. He’ll forgive himself, and he’ll get back to his usual routine. He’ll panic about what happened for weeks after, burning with shame and tip toeing around Zoro until the Swordsman pisses him off enough that the awkwardness disappears completely, and he’ll remember to.

He’ll remember what it was like to be forcefully cared for. To have someone argue through his self-sacrificing bullshit and demand he do what’s best for him. To have someone watch over him when all he wanted was to be left alone.

Next time, they’ll both remember.

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