Chapter Text
He could feel the blood in his shoe, as he looked over at the dumbass, who's hair was plastered to his forehead and his bandanna was partially off his head.
Yeah, that's what you get; thought my kick wasn't good enough? Huh?
Zoro blinked almost lazily and his green eye looked sharply at him as if he could hear his thoughts but then he smiled, showing off his bloody mouth.
"Don't do that, you look like a psycho with that grin."
Sanji grunted, spitting out some blood.
It was freezing.
It was December.
The blood made streaks on the icy snow and he kinda wanted to remove it with his fingers tips because he hated a mess.
He was not amused, as he sniffed in some blood back into his nostril. He needed a tissue, some mittens or just a hot shower, and to go comb his eyebrows. He had the impression that his eyebrows had turned straight after Zoro grabbed on to them and pulled.
He was exhausted too. Maybe he had been in the kitchen for too long today.
"Giving up?" He grunted because maybe he could rest and then make some pancakes. Yeah, and make his own personal hot chocolate and bake some cookies too. But, maybe, he should wait since it was really dinner time and he already made a three course meal, so breakfast food could be saved for tomorrow.
"No," Zoro said calmly and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before he pulled the bandanna completely off.
His hair was wet; it looked like some mud got stuck to it; Sanji hoped it was mud anyway, but it wouldn't be shocking if Zoro rolled into some shit too.
The Marimo stared at him for a while before his hand went under his shirt, and he pulled his stupid white shirt up; and in the process, of whatever the fuck he was doing, Sanji saw that always impressive sixpack. Hmmm...he loved it.
Zoro grabbed something and threw it across to him.
It slid down the snow and lightly bumped into his knee.
The Moss-head observed him intently before he grunted.
"We can take a break."
Sanji gazed down.
It was a green present.
It was wrapped up with a pretty, little, glittery bow.
"Merry Christmas," the swordsman muttered and it was soft and almost uncertain.
His breathe looked like a puff of smoke.
Sanji needed a cigarette, but they all must of dropped when they were fighting.
Something felt heavy in his chest; he had perhaps forgotten what this felt like.
His gift? The Marimo was giving him a gift?
He looked up and Zoro was licking his upper lip and he was staring at him with some intensity.
"So, are you gonna open it or just stare at it until we both freeze to death?"
Sanji huffed. It wasn't his fault. Not at all. The Moss-head was the one that started it.
"If you didn't call me a jack-ass- prince-know-it-all, lovecook, dartboard- eyebrow- loser, we wouldn't even be here right now."
"Pfft. You called me worse names before. Anyway, whatever, forget about what I said and open the god-damn gift."
Sanji felt himself smile softly.
"The spirit of Christmas is upon us and your cursing off God?"
Zoro rolled his eyes as Sanji gently picked up the box.
It was lovely, as it sparkled in the winter sunlight.
He liked presents very much; not just because of what was inside them, but because of the gesture. That someone cared enough. He wanted to just keep it and not open it.
The Marimo was being odd. He was looking at him with a dangerous glint in his eyes like he was really gonna take out his sword and fight him. What was with all these emotions? Sanji rubbed at his chin before he concentrated on the gift.
The paper was thin as he pulled on it; and when he slowly opened it, he found another little box inside.
It was a plain little brown box and Sanji could tell it was old.
His heart squeezed uncomfortably as he gently took it in between his fingers tips.
It was a small but lovely hair brooch with tiny crystals all around it and a little emerald dragon sat in the middle like it was guarding its treasure.
He brushed it with his index finger and held it up to his eye level.
It was beautiful.
He looked back at the Moss-head.
Zoro was staring at it and something like sadness passed through his gaze. He grabbed his arm, none to lightly, and blinked a couple of times as he made him move forward so that their chests were almost touching
Sanji's breathe caught in his throat. He wouldn't, would he?! He observed a tiny tear, like a little drop of steal, run down the Moss-head's cheek. It was like a lost prisoner escaping his jail, but unavoidable once Sanji saw it slip out and run down his tanned face.
He quickly crawled over and reached out his hand, so that he could swipe it off with his thumb, like it was a fly, worried there would be more, and it was not that he didn't think Zoro wasn't allowed to cry, but that he didn't think he would be able to just stand there and watch. He couldn't.
"Zoro?"
He almost sounded like he was warning him, but Zoro just took a long breath, in and out, and adjusted his gaze towards the horizon before he looked calmly back at him. He was a pro at doing that, at regaining his focus.
"It was Kuina's and I thought it would look good on you, so."
Sanji's fingers intertwined with the Moss-head's and their hot breathes created little clouds in the air.
He wondered briefly why Zoro couldn't have gifted this lovely, priceless, gift to him in a more civilized manner, when they didn't smell like shit, but then it wouldn't be like them to sit by a warm fire, with matching slippers and Santa hats..right? Though that idea would make him all tingly inside.
Oh, but this gift was everything, even when he felt his heart tighten at the mention of Zoro's childhood friend. The one Zoro had meticulously avoided to talk about, but who had shaped his life. Sanji was sometimes an asshole for kinda being jealous of that friendship because it was so personal, but he wouldn't allow himself to think this way for long; Zoro had lost someone very dear to him and this gift..this gift mean everything.
He felt Zoro's adorable and strong fingers under his own and he squeezed them with reassurance and smiled softly and he saw those lovely lips want to smile back even when the Marimo did not.
"Zoro, I love it."