#next time Sanji finds a razor in the first aid box

[leventart-den]

I love seeing Sanji and Zoro trying to recover from a bad fight together

Just…. Both of them in pain, maybe some blood??? That’s good shit right there

Just them being quiet trying to patch the other up, because Chopper already has enough on his.. hooves? And they don’t want to be a burden

You don’t even have to draw this, I just want your opinion on this???? It is VERY important I swear

Dearest Anony!

I swear I'll draw this, I really like the idea! But since this is VERY important, I cannot remain silent and leave you for days without an answer.

Plus, damn, I love this kind of stuff, I could talk about it for hours (if I didn't have to use an online translator because my written English is non-existent).

AN (Me from the future while I was writing what is below): I tried to be short but I was carried away. Thanks for the inspiration, by the way. I'm sorry for all the blood. But I hope that you like it overall and that my answer will brighten up your time at least a little!

AN2 (even further in the future when I finished writing): When I have time I'll rewrite this into a fanfic, if you don't mind, dear Anony.

P.S. to everyone who wrote prompts for art - I will draw each of them, I promise! Thank you very much, they are wonderful! One Piece Art prompts are open for an unlimited time.

***

What I picture in my head when I read your prompt:

It’s time after a heavy battle, they are on the ship, everyone is tired, it’s the afternoon, calm and very quiet. Sanji and Zoro seem to be fine at first glance, and Chopper is so tired that he doesn't have the strength to insist on checking their condition, so he lets them go, immediately falling asleep at the table. It's so hot on the deck, almost suffocating without the wind, but Sanji and Zoro go downstairs to where provisions are stored, barrels of alcohol and where it's cool.

Sanji limps to his usual place, to a box against the wall on which he sits down heavily, leaning against the wooden surface and exhaling a cloud of smoke from the smoldering cigarette now clutched in his fingers. It's stained with blood.

Zoro glances at him briefly and silently heads to the far corner, pulling out a box of first aid from behind the drawers. It's a familiar routine by this point. They are both strong and both don't want to be a burden to Chopper when it can be avoided. They're both stupid like this. So of course at some point in their journey they came to this silent agreement mending each other's wounds and here they are. Again.

Zoro places the box on a nearby drawer and sits down opposite Sanji. The cook takes another drag and finally puts out the cigarette on the wall, throwing the cigarette butt into the iron tin can nearby, which he placed for such purposes. He grunts, finally opening the box and taking out everything he needs while Zoro takes off his shirt.

There is no tightness or awkwardness between them about such things. Not anymore. 

Sanji begins by treating the nasty gash on his forehead. It turned out to be difficult to wipe off all the blood; head wounds usually bleed a lot. Although, with his experience up to this point, he gets the job done quite quickly. Next come the wounds on the arms and torso. There are several cuts and spreading bruises. Zoro has a couple of broken ribs. He drinks a few drinks from the bottle while Sanji stitches up a particularly deep cut near his collarbone and tightens bandages around his chest and torso.

They don't talk during the process, they are too tired even for their usual banter and jokes towards each other. They would probably rather go to bed now, but the risk of upsetting and angering Chopper later is too great. So they will finish what they started, despite the fact that Zoro is half asleep and Sanji's movements are getting slower.

The air becomes heavy with blood and now the smell of tobacco is added to it. Sanji lights another cigarette and Zoro opens his eyes watching him. The cook's hands are shaking, he notes. He runs his eyes over his entire form, noting his injuries. He doesn't see much but Curly looks pale. His gaze falls down. There is a pool of blood on the floor under his feet. Zoro swears soundlessly. Looks like the shitty cook has got his legs messed up.

Zoro gives him a very meaningful look and Sanji sighs. He bites the cigarette between his teeth and fumbles with the waistband of his trousers, but his fingers are too weak right now. 

Zoro watches him for a few seconds and clenches his teeth because of the pain in his ribs, but still gets up and leans towards the cook, pushing his hands away and helping with the clothes. Sanji lifts himself off the box as far as he can, allowing him to pull his trousers down, and then leans heavily against the wall again. His cigarette is smoldering, he is too sleepy to even smoke.

Zoro, meanwhile, examines his legs. There are several deep cuts and his left ankle is swollen and his knees are bruised. Zoro thinks that he shouldn't be surprised, after all, the shitty cook's legs are his weapons, the main blows fall on them, but still. If some of the cuts had been any higher they could have cut the artery and then the cook would have been dead. Zoro finds himself observing all the old scars that cover his skin. He shakes his head, pushing away the thoughts; now is not the time for them.

At this moment, the pale bloodstained hand falls down and the half-smoked cigarette slips out of limped fingers onto the floor. Zoro's gaze shoots up, he feels pressure in his chest for a second and it's not his broken ribs.

But Sanji's breathing is calm and measured. The cook just fell asleep, it seems.

The swordsman releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

Okay.

This is okay.

Everything is fine.

He picks up the cigarette from the floor, puts it out and throws it into the jar with the others. Zoro winces at the movement. His damn ribs hurt with the adrenaline gone, but he'll take care of this stupid cook anyway.

He gets rid of the blood around the wounds and stitches them up, trying to keep his hands as stable as possible. It turns out to be more difficult than it seemed, but he tries. He bandages Sanji's legs after and takes off his shoes with socks, checking his ankles and feet.

It looks like nothing was broken, probably just a sprain, so for now Zoro will do what he can and tomorrow Sanji will turn to Chopper himself if necessary.

After a few minutes and tending to a few other cuts and bruises here and there, Zoro looked over his work and decided he was done. The cook didn’t even flinch during all this time and it looked worrying if it weren’t for the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest from breathing. He really lost a lot of blood. Zoro decided not to even try to wake him.

Grunting, he bent down, pulling his pants up to his knees and then moved the cook's motionless body closer to himself, leaning back a little so that he would lean against him and Zoro could pull his pants all the way up. He carefully returned Sanji to his seat and sighed wearily as he buttoned up his pants. Zoro felt exhausted by this point. He wasn't sure he could make it upstairs to the cabins with Sanji as dead weight.

So after a few seconds of hesitation, Zoro went to the corner where they kept all sorts of extra things and fished out a heavy animal skin with thick fur and a couple of blankets. He placed it on the floor next to Sanji and carefully moved him onto the makeshift bed, throwing a blanket over him. He watched as Sanji reflexively curled up on himself, burying his face in the soft fur. The cook always sleeps like this, as if he is trying to hide. It never sits right with Zoro. It looks wrong. 

One day he will find out why. But now Zoro settles down next to Sanji, wrapping his arm around him on top of the blanket and holding him close to himself. He feels the other man's shoulders relax and his breath a little too hot on his collarbone. His nose is cold against Zoro's skin. Zoro suddenly feels like he won't be able to sleep, but he buries his face in the cook's hair, which smells of cherry tobacco, sea and spices, and listens to his heartbeat against his skin.

He falls asleep within seconds.