Work Text:
“…I want you to kill me,” Sanji’s voice cut through the chaos.
Zoro froze. Suddenly struggling to breathe.
What?
He lifted his hand, watching it tremble and lose its grip around the sword. It clattered to the ground, useless. Zoro ignored it, didn’t need it. Needed air. But Sanji’s words clogged his throat, each attempted inhale catching like razor blades. Nails scraped against his neck as he clawed desperately for air.
The ground quaked beneath his feet, then vanished. Zoro lurched forward, chest heaving as he gasped for air.
His eyes shot up wide, heart pounding, blood rushing in his ears.
The room slowly came into focus. Yesterday’s clothes hung haphazardly on the chair, papers and books cluttered his desk, and the alarm clock glared 5:36 in bold red digits.
Cold sweat ran down his back, and the sheets stuck uncomfortably to his clammy skin.
He was home.
Zoro whipped his head to the side, his gaze landed on the man sleeping next to him.
The early rays of the sun illuminated the golden locks fanned across the pillow.
Sanji.
Still trembling, Zoro reached out, brushing hair from his forehead to reveal two swirly eyebrows against smooth skin. His knuckles caressed the curve of a warm cheek, down a sharp jaw, pausing to let his thumb rest against pouting lips.
The ache in his chest eased with every touch.
Bending down, Zoro pressed his lips to Sanji’s in a feather-light kiss. Not enough to wake him, but enough to feel heat. To breathe him in and find comfort in the faint scent of kitchen spices and tobacco. To remind himself that he wasn’t alone.
Yet Sanji stirred. Mumbled something inaudible, and returned a sleepy kiss.
Zoro’s arms wrapped around him without a second thought, clutching him close to feel his heart beat against his own.
“Wh’s wrong?” Sanji murmured.
“Nothin’,” Zoro assured him with another kiss. “Not anymore.”
Sanji stilled, lids heavy with sleep as he studied him. “Bad dream?”
“The worst,” Zoro admitted, carding his hand through golden hair. With each stroke, he chased away mental images of a battle raging in chaos, wounded allies and comrades in need.
Images of another life.
A life on the sea, of chasing dreams with your life at stake.
“If I’m not…in my right mind…I want you to—”
Zoro shook his head, ridding his mind of any echoes of a past that wasn’t really his. He nuzzled into Sanji’s hair, lips brushing against his ear as he whispered, “I’ll protect you.”
“What’s gotten into you?” Sanji asked from where he was pressed against the crook of Zoro’s neck.
“Always.”
“What are you talking about?” Sanji mumbled, his warm breath fanning over Zoro’s skin.
“In every life. In every universe,” Zoro whispered with reverence.
“Zoro. What’s wrong?”
“I’ll always protect you.”
“Okay,” Sanji said with finality, pushing himself back and catching Zoro’s gaze. “You’re scaring me. What’s going on?
“What? Can’t say I’ll protect you?”
“It’s not that. Just…” Sanji narrowed his eyes in worry. “You’re being weird.”
“Thought you loved that sappy shit.” A grin spread across his face as Zoro leaned forward, planting a quick peck on Sanji’s lips. “Knights protecting their princesses and all.” He left a trail of kisses down Sanji’s jaw, feeling his stubble scrape against his lips.
“I’m not a princess,” Sanji grumbled. “And you’re definitely not a knight.”
“Oh really?” Zoro’s voice dropped. His teeth grazed Sanji’s ear. “Then tell me, princess—” Sanji gasped as he nibbled on the earlobe. “What am I?”
A knee hit him in the side. “You’re an idiot!”
“Am I?” he asked, feigning innocence as he sucked on the pale skin of Sanji’s throat. Marking it, claiming it.
“Yes!” Sanji second kick was more forceful. “And you’re late for work!”
“I’m not.” Zoro dismissed him, confidently kissing a path down his chest.
Sanji’s breath hitched. “You will be,” he spoke through ragged breathing, “if you keep kissing me like that!”
“Oh, I don’t mind.” Zoro caught a nipple between his teeth.
Sanji gasped. “Well, I do!”
“What’s your order, then—” Zoro glanced up at him with a smirk, “princess?”
With eyes wide in disbelief, Sanji stared, opening his mouth, struggling for words until, “Go to work!” This kick had Zoro tumbling out of bed and hitting the floor with a loud thud.
“The fuck,” Zoro groaned with his legs all tangled in the sheets.
Sanji was already standing, pulling a shirt over his head as he muttered a low, “I’ll make breakfast,” before slipping out of the room.
Getting up into a seating position, Zoro rubbed the back of his head, grinning despite the ache.
Sanji was here, alive and breathing in their cramped, sunlit apartment.
Even with the feeling of the bad dream still churning in the pit of Zoro’s stomach, the taste of Sanji that lingered on his lips was real.
And that was all that mattered.