Archive of Our Own ^beta

Luffy hasn’t left Zoro’s side since the run-in with Thriller Bark.

It’s unlike the boss to be glued to one spot for so long, but the family understood why. If there weren't jobs to do and outstanding deals to make following the aftermath of the fight, they would be in that room too.

They still make time to visit. Five minute breaks just to peek in and check if he’s okay. Luffy would lift his head with a bright smile saying that Zoro’s been getting on fine, as if the man isn’t still unconscious right in front of their boss. Afterhour sleepovers where they set up pillows and blankets around the hospital room.

It makes Sanji reminisce of older times; the tradition stemming from a bout of sickness Nami experienced, way back before they’d met Chopper.

Sanji didn’t have sleepovers growing up. His family weren’t the most… supportive, his father being who he is, his brothers being who they are, and his mother passing away when he was young. Even after he ran away and was taken under Zeff’s wing, Sanji had ended up too focused on growing his passion for cooking instead of making room for what most would say was an average childhood activity. Still, it wasn’t something he found himself longing for, but these small moments with his new family made him realise that he was missing out.

Usually he sleeps easier when they’re all in the same room like this. Tonight’s different, but he doesn’t know why it’s different. It can’t be because of Zoro’s condition– the two of them fight like cat and dog, butting heads and never apologising.

The room has a stale stillness to it; despite it being cramped with everyone’s slumbering forms and snores, Sanji feels the uneasiness of how tense everyone is. He knows it will all melt away once their swordsman wakes up, but that’s the issue, he’s not waking up. It’s been 48 hours now.

Sitting on the chair right next to the bedside table and bed, Sanji narrows his eyes at the thin sheet that drapes over Zoro. His fingers gingerly brush over the material, eager to fidget with something, sailing dangerously close to the prone ashened hand that lays upon it. His gaze flints between the hand and Zoro’s face, illuminated by the shy light of the moon. His face is slack, but Sanji notices a crease between the underboss’ eyebrows. It’s so like Zoro to scowl even when he’s in a coma that Sanji lets out a quiet, humourless snort.

“Stupid idiot…” He mutters under his breath, forgetting himself as he reaches out to soothe the harsh line on Zoro’s forehead with his thumb. “You’ll wake up with a migraine like that.”

Zoro’s probably going to wake up hurting regardless. Well, if he wakes up anyhow. Which he will, because he’s Zoro.

“Luffy will change the underground.”

Spare debris brushes over Sanji’s torn suit as the blonde shifts, ears ringing. It takes him a moment to remember where he is–

Thriller Bark. They’d just won a fight against one of the seven kingpins that work with the world authorities in exchange for free reign with their dirty work; it’s an unjust and corrupt system, but Sanji’s always known that. Moria’s already been taken down by Luffy though, so who–?

“He’s the one who’ll become king of the city,” Sanji hears Zoro’s voice continue, frustratingly far away. “I can’t let you take him. Please, settle for my head instead.”

Sanji remembers now. They ran out of ammunition and were exhausted by the time the other kingpin Kuma showed up. He doesn’t recall much about the guy’s reputation in the underground, other than others referring to him as a government dog and a tyrant.

He can’t get distracted by these thoughts now– Zoro’s trying to turn himself in, or worse, and Sanji needs to stop him. He doesn’t have the energy to feel like a fool as he shakily stands, almost tripping over his own feet as he stumbles towards the voice. In the blurry shakiness of his vision he can see that stupid mop of green hair amidst the rocky warzone, like moss on a boulder.

“Fuck off, jerk.” Sanji’s proud of how strong he manages to sound, “What about your dream?”

Zoro’s head shoots up like a panicked meerkat, wide eyes staring right at Sanji.

“You–”

“Oi, listen up big guy.” Sanji exhales, his body trembling when he finally reaches his destination: between Zoro and the towering boss, shielding the family’s shield from Kuma’s sight. “Forget whatever this fool told you and take my head instead. I– I might not have much of a reputation right now, but you government dogs are going to regret not taking me down now.”

He swallows the lump around his throat, hands shoved into his pockets to hide their tremors. He’s strong, as strong as Zoro, so it has to be good enough. It has to be, because otherwise he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. The family needs Zoro, Luffy needs Zoro. There’s never been a Zoro without Luffy, and there’s never been a Luffy without Zoro.

Zoro needs to stay. Sanji’s replaceable; you can find a cook anywhere.

Zoro’s going to be the greatest swordsman. That, you can’t replace.

“Tell everyone… to take care.” He breathes out, refusing to take his eyes off Kuma. “And that you’ll have to find yourselves another chef–”

He barely gets the sentence out before a heavy blow hits him in the ribs, his vision blacking out upon the impact. He manages to get his feet flat on the ground, twisting his body around with the momentum to grab onto Zoro’s arm.

It’s all the strength he can muster right now, and the most he can do is hold him.

“You–” It had to be him. It had to be him, didn’t it? Zoro wouldn’t have accepted anything else; that’s just who Zoro is, and Sanji was stupid to think he would sit there and let Sanji do this one thing for him. “You bastard…”

It had to be Zoro. Sanji knows, but he was hoping that if he couldn’t give Zoro anything else then he could at least give him this. Was Sanji really not good enough for this, too?

As his body numbly sinks to its knees Zoro looks down at him with an unreadable expression. Maybe it’s disappointment, but Sanji knows what disappointment looks like on Zoro. This was something different.

He looks upset, Sanji thinks, as his body shuts down.

Sanji looks down at his pale hand against Zoro’s arm, the same place he had tried to hold onto a couple days ago. He’d let go then.

“Stupid, stupid,” Sanji seethes, the pads of his fingertips pressing into the lax muscle. “Wake up.”

In true Zoro fashion, he doesn’t do what Sanji tells him to. It was worth a shot anyway.

He sighs, exhaustion from the past few days seeping into his bones as he does so, and lets his hand slide down to Zoro’s wrist. He swallows down the urge to circle it into his hand, instead settling for tapping his fingers against the back of Zoro’s hand. He's been healing fast according to Chopper, but nobody was surprised about that.

Broken ribs, a fractured ankle, multiple blooming bruises across his entire body that have recently settled on a deep shade of purple, one broken arm, a concussion, all among other things that should be small had they all not wracked up to an impossible count of injuries on one person. 

Sanji feels dizzy. He knows there’s more to his feelings than just worry. He’s known it for a while now, around the playful jabs and the flirty arguments. Zoro knows it too, but because they’re both them they’d never talked about it, and now Sanji has to sit here with his own feelings stewing in his chest while the object of his fear lays motionless in front of him.

The crew continues to snore peacefully around them. Robin and Franky took the first watch outside of the hospital room. They’ve come a long way since the beginning; Sanji remembers when they couldn’t even afford a doctor’s visit when Nami had gotten sick all those months ago.

“We’re safe now,” Sanji murmurs into the darkness, careful to not wake anyone with his voice. His hand slides over Zoro’s, slipping his fingers underneath and curling around it. “So you can wake up.” He pauses, glancing towards Luffy’s sleeping form. “... I can’t believe you did that. You have to show me up on everything, don’t you?”

“‘Course.” Zoro’s voice croaks out of his lips, sounding as dry as sand, and Sanji almost jolts out of his skin. The hand he’s holding grips him when he tries to stand up, so he ends up staying in place.

“Zo– fuck, are you awake?” Sanji whispers, leaning in to take a better look at the swordsman’s face in the darkness. Tired, dark eyes meet him.

“No, I’m sleep talking. What does it look like?” His voice sounds horrible, rough around the edges and barely above a mumble. “Is there water?”

“Y– yeah,” Not letting go of the hand because that's the last thing on his mind, Sanji reaches to the bedside to pick up the cup of water that had been sitting there. He hovers it over Zoro for a moment, observing the wince that comes when Zoro tries to move, and finally slips his hand out of the weak grip so he can help Zoro sit up.

When the residence houseplant had been watered Sanji places the cup back on the table. He knows he should wake Chopper since that’s what the kid asked them all to do if they see Zoro’s woken up, but the relief that’s washed over his body has rendered him speechless.

Zoro notices this because he arches an eyebrow. “Where are my swords?”

Sanji blinks.

“Uh–?” He blinks again. “You were out for over 48 hours and your first question is where are your swords?”

“Yeah.” Zoro nods easily. “Wait, you said 48 hours? No wonder I feel great.” He says that, but the number of bandages he’s currently wearing doesn’t show it.

“What's wrong with you?” Sanji feels incredulous, like this is all some fever dream.

“What’s wrong with you?” Zoro asks back, looking down at himself to assess the damage. It’s like he’s only just realised he’s got broken bones. “Don’t tell me you were worried. You’re getting soft on me, cook.”

“Wh– I wasn’t worried.” He was, he was terrified he’d taken too long to figure out his feelings and that it was too late. “Don’t get too excited.”

“As if.” Zoro manages to sneer, which is honestly impressive for someone who’d just gotten out of a coma. It pisses Sanji off how casual Zoro’s being, but it’s not like he can start screaming at the mosshead while the rest of their crew is sleeping in the same room.

“I’m not going to say anything about what you did.” Sanji grits through his teeth, “You can’t do that again.”

Zoro stares at Sanji as if he’s stupid.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.” He says simply.

“Then I’ll get Luffy to tell you.” Sanji retorts, leaning closer to glare at Zoro. “What you did was– selfish.”

Zoro scoffs. “Me? And what about you, you fucking hypocrite.” He’s whispering harshly, head leaning forward. They’re so close their noses are almost touching. “You wouldn’t tell him. And even if you did, I still wouldn’t promise shit. And Luffy wouldn’t make me promise shit.”

“So, what? I was supposed to sit on the sideline and watch you kill yourself?” Sanji grinds his teeth together, wishing for a cigarette. He grabs Zoro by the front of his hospital gown, careful to not disturb any of the bandages that are wrapped around his torso beneath it. “I hate you. I hate you so much, Zoro.”

“Yeah?” Zoro stares at him.

“Yeah.” Sanji breathes out, suddenly aware he can feel Zoro’s warm breath against his lips. “I hate you. I hate so much about you; I hate your shitty fucking attitude and I hate how you sleep anywhere in the house yet somehow you mostly sleep in everyone’s paths and we’ve all tripped over you more than once, I hate your stupid fighting style and I hate that you don’t know when to back down and I fucking hate that you’re not that ugly to look at.”

“I hate you t- what?”

“I hate that you’re barbaric. I hate when you track mud and blood over the furniture. I hate that you’ve almost bled out in my kitchen more than once. I hate that you put your life in danger without a second thought.” Sanji presses on, his forehead pushing against Zoro who refuses to back down even if his eyes are wide with surprise. “I hate… that you scare me. You weren’t supposed to be someone I’m scared of.”

He feels the furrow of Zoro’s brow at those words.

“Don’t– Don’t say anything right now.” Sanj whispers. He stares at Zoro’s parted lips, waiting, testing the waters. Against all odds, Zoro listens to him this time. “I hate you.” Sanji says again, trying to mean it. The wobble in his voice betrays him. “My ribs still hurt because of you.”

He pauses. The silence stretches for a minute before Zoro shakily inhales.

“Were you expecting a goodbye kiss? I’m not a romantic guy.” He jokes, or tries to, but all he gets  for his efforts is a narrowed glare from Sanji.

“Forget Kuma, I would have killed you myself.” He hisses. “What kind of dickhead doubles a first kiss as a last?”

Zoro eyes Sanji’s face, as close as it is, and tilts his head without pulling back. “It wouldn’t have been our last though.”

Gods, Zoro pisses Sanji off so fucking much.

“I hate you,” Sanji says, pulling Zoro in for a kiss. Zoro’s lips are uncomfortably chapped but Sanji doesn’t even care about that, all he can think of is this isn’t going to be the last one.

Zoro pushes back as if this is a competition, meeting Sanji’s mouth with the eagerness of a waiting man.

Sanji pulls back quickly, “I hate you,” and he goes back in. Zoro quietly laughs into the second kiss, smiling into Sanji’s mouth as the cook presses kisses and mumbles words into his skin. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.

The light flickers on and Sanji freezes.

Like a startled deer he whips his head to the entrance of the room, eyes as wide as saucers, and Robin blinks at him. He lets go of Zoro’s hospital gown to wipe his mouth as the rest of the crew stir from their sleep.

“Is breakfast ready?” Luffy murmurs, rubbing his eyes and looking at Zoro sitting on the bed. For the swordsman’s credit he doesn’t look like he’s been caught in the middle of making out– fuck this guy.

“Zoro! You’re up!” Luffy yells and launches himself towards the bed. Nami’s quick to shove him away before any damage can be caused. “I missed you so much! You were asleep for so long, I–”

Luffy’s rambling blurs with the concerned, happy voices of their crew. Sanji shuffles away to make room for the others, watching as they crowd around Zoro.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you.” Robin murmurs next to him, startling Sanji once again. Sanji needs to go outside and dig a 6 foot grave for himself.

“It’s okay Robin, love.” Sanji tries to smile, an awkward flush on his face. “I was supposed to get Chopper anyway…”

Robin smiles patiently, placing a hand on Sanji’s stiff shoulder.

“I’m happy for you.” She says, ever calm as the initial surprise washed away. “I won’t tell anybody.”

Sanji strains a grateful expression.

“Thank you.” He says. She nods before joining the others in their semi-circle around the underboss.

Sanji watches Zoro clumsily follow along with his crewmate’s chatter, overall looking unbothered underneath the bruises and plasters. He catches Sanji’s eye however, sparing him a cocky smirk that ultimately looks stupid when paired with an arm cast and a head bandage.

Sanji’s embarrassed he even likes this guy at all.