Work Text:
Sanji was just wrapping up cleaning his kitchen for the evening, enjoying a late-night cigarette and leaning against his counter, taking in the beauty of this area. His workplace, his own. when the cook heard the door to the kitchen open he did not expect the green-haired swordsman to stumble inside, throwing a slurred
“Curly-brow,”
in his direction as a greeting before gripping a table to steady himself. His head was bowed and he might have closed his eyes, just about suppressing an annoyed groan at the irritating consequences of consuming too much alcohol. The blonde just stared for a moment, taking a slow drag from the remains of his cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth which pulled up into an amused smirk.
“Can’t handle your liquor, Marimo?”
Truth be told, when Zoro invaded his kitchen earlier in search for the booze, Sanji did reach for the strongest one he had in his collection, wanting to get back at that moss-head for being the insufferable bastard he is, what he did not expect was for him then to empty the entire bottle and circumventing back to the kitchen again.
“Shut up and get me water or something, shitty cook, this is your doing or not?”
Zoro's demand came through rather as a plea, which to Sanji was just lovely, he was sick of the swordsman's constant aloof and stoic manner, only picking fights with him (which the cook indulged in, naturally), so this change of attitude pleased him greatly.
“Ask me nicely and i might just do that, drop the insult, will you?”
He purred with his sultry voice as his fingers slid up to remove the burned out cigarette butt from his lips, tossing it into the sink. Sanji stepped away from the counter he was leaning on and crossed the kitchen until he stood in front of the other man, looking at Zoro expectingly, who just huffed in response, once, then a second time, almost defeatedly.
“Please.., cook, would you get me some water? I don't feel well.”
He mumbled through gritted teeth, a grimace cutting through his face which he pointedly turned away from the blonde, who felt too close for some reason. Sanji's smirk turned into a softer smile, seemingly pleased he went to get a glass out of a cabinet and filled it with some water from a barrel, swaying his hips lightly when walking. He put it down at the table in front of Zoro and even pulled out a chair for him to sit on, he himself just tucked his hands into the pockets of his velvety suit and leaned on the table, now facing away from his drunken crew mate. A shit-eating grin was snaking onto his lips, because how could he refrain from teasing Zoro, with his annoying muscles and piercing eyes?
“Tell me, Marimo; what's the occasion? A pretty lady reject you? Beat you with your swords, perhaps?”
Sanji crossed his arms, feeling smug and waiting for Zoro to respond to him, but the swordsman hadn't even touched his water and sat still in the chair, just staring at the other puzzledly. With an exaggerated sigh, the cook reached over and snapped his fingers in front of him, pulling Zoro from his trance.
“I am talking to you; what's got you drinking this much? You should have stopped after realizing how strong that shit was.”
Sanji's voice gained a serious tone, he wasn't exactly happy with the state the moronic moss-head was in now. Sure, making fun of someone's drunken idiocy was amusing, but not getting a reaction was slightly frustrating. Moreover it was a quite expensive liquor he had sacrificed for this little stunt. With all this thinking the cook didn't even notice how Zoro had started talking, his deep voice rumbling in his chest and breath coming in pinched heaves, head sinking to the wooden table. When Sanji noticed this, he quickly shielded the swordsman from banging his big stupid head into his exquisite furniture by catching his head in his hands, one holding his cheek and the other weaving through the choppy, green locks.
“Hey there, don't hurt yourself now. Wouldn't want you to be at a disadvantage when we spar tomorrow, I win fair and square.”
The blonde whispered, more to himself than anyone and couldn't help but notice how Zoro's hair was softer than he would have expected it to be. Not that he has ever imagined running his hand through it. Never. They just looked coarse, is all. He twirled a few of the short strands around his slender fingers, looking down at his crew mate before he laid his head down to the table, gently. Zoro was in fact unresponsive, but that didn't stop him from noticing how Sanji's hands still lingered in his hair. His mind was too cloudy to think about it too much, he only noted the warmth and then the lack of it, as the blonde carefully removed his fingers from his locks.
“You should get to bed.”
He heard the other say, matter of factly, like he was talking to himself, and managed a hum in response, slowly opening his eyes to look up to Sanji. Expecting an expression of disdain, he found what he would interpret as genuine worry dancing in blue eyes, before they closed and turned away with the head they were attached to.
“Can you at least stand up yourself? i won't carry you to your hammock.”
Sanji knew damn well that was a lie, he wouldn't for the life of him want to get up tomorrow, trying to prepare breakfast for his friends with a hung-over Zoro snoring in his precious workplace. That was the only reason, definitely. The swordsman did seem to want to stand up, but in the end the cook had to help him by hooking one of his bulky arms over his own slender shoulder and pull him into a standing position. After making sure they were steady enough, he made them walk a few careful steps towards the door and then patiently led them to the men's sleeping room. Sanji did encounter a minor problem then; Zoros hammock was the one just above his and there was no way he could heave him up there. In the end the swordman was tucked into the cook's hammock, not without a few whispered insults hurled at him for stealing his bed. Zoro felt Sanji's hand squeezing his shoulder gently as he was retrieving them and made to get into the free hammock above.
“Wait,”
He croaked, looking at the other, frowning.
“What is it?”
“Wait.”
“Go to sleep, you are drunk.”
He expected them to be sharper, but the words were said with something endearing to them, the way his voice was all light and soft. This did not however soothe the uncomfortable feeling of missing the warmth of Sanji's hands on his shoulders, in his hair.
“If you shut up now, I will make you a hangover food in the morning, promise.”
The cook said in a hushed tone, already standing too far away from Zoro for him to be able to change it. For once, seeing no use in a fight he closed his eyes, feeling the smile grow on his face. He was still aware of Sanji, climbing up the hammock and turning his body around a few times to get comfortable, but the slight buzzing in his skull quickly pulled him from conscience; into dreams of air tasting like smoke and fingers tangled in short, green strands.