Word Count: 300
Disclaimer: Not mineSummary: Zoro and Sanji share their feelings
Sanji could feel the blood soaking into his shirt, as the near dead Zoro hovered over him. The wounds were more life threatening than usual, which was probably why idiot came to him with such speed and precision. The sound of Chopper’s worried banging on the door easily fell to the background as the swordsman’s heaving wet breaths reached his ear. Zoro didn’t waste a moment undoing both their pants. Sanji was quick with his protests, but the look of wild animal desperation in Zoro’s eyes stalled his words. A moment later, he was easily accepting his lover’s cock and five weak thrusts later, he was pinned by an unconscious swordsman. He carefully removed the broken body and dressed them both before he opened the door to let the fretting doctor inside.
Three days later Zoro woke to Sanji and an overflowing ashtray at the foot of the futon. The cook spoke first. “Chopper said next time you’ll kill yourself.”
A gruff ‘hmm’ was all the response he got.
“Is it your way of beating your chest after battle? Am I some victory prize?” He lit another cigarette to distract himself from his own tear glistened face and shaking body. The room remained tense until Zoro finally answered.
“Sometimes her katana isn’t enough.”
“What does that have to do with pummeling me with your bloody body?”
“Her katana gives me purpose and from that I get strength, but sometimes it’s not enough and…”
“I feel weak! So, I remind myself of my greatest power.” Zoro’s word hit hard, gaze shifting to the wall, ashamed.
Sanji took a long drag of his cigarette, smirking. “I’ll get some soup.” He stood and walked to the door.
“I love you too, shithead,” and he was gone leaving a smile in his wake.