Work Text:
After the… encounter with Kuma, Zoro was in a state. He had passed out from the pain, nearly dying several times before Chopper was able to get him in a stable condition. He only began to regain consciousness once he had half a million different painkillers in his system.
The bandages that covered his body were a mess. First from the urgency they were initially wrapped in, and later from how poor he was at staying still everytime Chopper changed them. He would twitch and shift and complain leaving the wrappings inconsistent and barely covering the gory wounds.
Sanji had been sitting by Zoro’s side more than he’d care to admit, a heavy guilt glueing him to the chair beside the bed. It was stupidly unfair and embarrassing that Sanji had failed at taking Zoro’s place. Even if Zoro and Brook were the only witnesses, failing to sacrifice one’s self was humiliating regardless of how noble and touching Brook thought it all was.
Currently Zoro was half awake, blinking slowly up at the ceiling, clearly making an effort to not fall back asleep. The bandages around his torso were barely wrapped doing their job, the scarred skin across his chest peeking through.
Sanji’s hands twitched, right hand mindlessly hovering above Zoro’s chest. He’ll just fix the bandage to sit properly. His fingers slid across the bandages, rough beneath the touch. Sanji’s fingers slipped under them ever so slightly, meeting raw skin. Breath caught in his throat, Sanji stared at his own hand as it continued to slide under the bandages across Zoro’s chest against his will, feeling the warm, scarred skin. Why was it so soft? Was Zoro’s skin always this soft or was it the scarring and rawness of his skin that made him so smooth?
Sanji could feel Zoro’s heartbeat. A light, repeating pulse against his fingertips as his fingers pressed against the warm flesh. It all felt far too intimate.
Zoro’s tired eyes turned towards him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Or maybe he was just trying not to fall back asleep.
“What are you doing?”
What was he doing!?
Sanji froze, hand finally moving how he wanted it to. His face turned beet red, heart racing as if had been caught doing something illegal. Sanji shrugged in panic with no actual words to share.
Zoro raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t press. Relaxing back in and out of consciousness, head still turned towards Sanji.
Sanji’s chest felt tight and heavy. So heavy.
Stupid hand! Stupid hand that was only meant for cooking and women and smoking and not moss head's chest! Stupid hand that was meant to do what was normal and what it was told. Stupid hand betraying the mind it was attached to that took such good care of it. Sanji should be left handed from now on. A hand that wanted to touch Zoro was no hand of his.
