Work Text:
“Sorry, bro. It’s just really in there, I can’t quite--”
“No, no it’s no problem!”
Usopp squats, dipping into the cavity inside of Franky’s torso. Most of the paneling has been pulled away to reveal the mesh of muscle, piping and wires that make up Franky’s cyborg body. The input nozzle that usually connects to his fuel is encrusted with sugar and sputters when Franky breathes. They reason there’s a clot somewhere deeper within, but with Franky’s modifications even his second set of smaller hands don’t have the dexterity to seek the problem out.
“Even if you could get in here, you wouldn’t be able to see what you’re doing.” Usopp says, and his voice echoes through the small chamber.
He dips out long enough to tie back his locs and fetch a small pencil light. He holds it between his teeth and dips back inside of Franky.
“Well,” the cyborg says, rattling Usopp’s surroundings. He plants a hand on a steel panel, and Franky grunts. “I thought about having Robin put an eye on my palms, but I don’t know if I’m ready for her to see this side of me…”
He laughs nervously. Usopp frowns.
“She loves you, dude. There’s no way she’d mind. Hell, she’d probably get off on it.”
Usopp has seen Robin’s doodles. Weird shit is her whole thing, and Usopp loves Franky, too, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t qualify as “weird.”
Franky hums noncommittally, and Usopp lets him wallow in his nerves. There’s no use in pushing it, and it’s not as if Usopp has any room to talk. He’d thought being the older couple’s unicorn would ruin the Straw Hat’s dynamic for over a year before he got the courage to ask them out. If Franky was worrying over nothing, well, let him worry.
He reaches behind himself for a tool, pawing at the floor until he knocks into Franky’s thigh. Metal clanks against metal and a pipecutter falls into his palm.
“I know she wouldn’t make fun of me, I just… I worry that it would ruin our thing too, y’know?”
Is it getting warmer in here? Usopp ignores the butterflies in his chest and the stupid smile forcing itself onto his face. “Are you even worried or was that just a setup, you big softie…”
Franky laughs. “Nah man! I do worry. She’s awesome and totally gets me but sometimes I just wonder, when does it all fall apart, y’know? When does she realize I’m…”
Usopp thumps his head on the way out, wincing while he does the best to glare up at Franky.
“Realize you’re what?”
Franky’s got his sunglasses on, and he’s tilting his head up in that way he does when he’s trying not to cry. “I’m sorry! I know I’m super, I’ve just been in a lot of pain lately. It’s making me think some not-so-super thoughts. I know I’m worth you guys. It’s bad to think that way.”
Usopp scoffs. “It’s not bad , you can think it all you want as long as you know it’s silly. But try to leave self-deprecation to me, alright?”
A tear slips out, and Franky laughs as he wipes it away. “Sorry, bro. You’re not allowed to hate yourself any more than I am!”
Usopp sets down the pipecutter long enough to kiss Franky on the cheek. He doesn’t address the rule, knowing damn well he can’t follow it. “Let’s get you feeling better, yeah?”
“Yeah…”
He’ll have to arrange a sit-down for the three of them to talk about this, if the pain isn’t all that’s causing Franky’s worries. How ridiculous for Franky, out of all of them, to doubt his worth. Not that Usopp thought Robin was less worthy of love than Franky, and really, what did worth have to do with love? Well, of course it mattered when it came to Usopp deserving love, but that was different, and--
Usopp grabs the pipecutter and buries himself in his work. He hates having to contend with the natural lines of his own thoughts. “I’m gonna cut the input line and hopefully we can just clean it out and soulder everything. You ready?”
Franky’s hum resounds around him, so Usopp gets to work. He tucks a towel underneath the pipe and attaches the blade. As it rotates Franky’s breathing hitches and his legs shift, brushing against Usopp’s bottom half sticking out.
“Hold still,” Usopp chides.
“It feels weird…”
“Painful?”
“No…”
Usopp keeps cutting, ready at a second’s notice to stop should Franky give the word.
What he isn’t ready for is when the pipe bursts.
Usopp yelps as carbonated water sprays at first from the sliver of an opening created in the copper pipe, then more violently shattering the metal itself, a font of soda creating a geyser that shoves Usopp completely out of Franky’s stomach.
Soda gets into Usopp’s nose and everything tastes sweet and lukewarm. He burbles through the font of soda in an attempt to speak, sputtering when that just makes more soda fill his airflow.
He covers the spray with one hand and wipes his face down with his already sodden shirt. Once he can sort of see, he sidesteps, getting out of the direct assault of the soda torrent.
As soon as he’s out of the way, the pressure subsides.
“Aw, hell!”
Franky, who had sort of just let it happen in his surprise, closes his stomach in a belated effort to stave off the mess. The floor of the workshop is a shade darker from the moisture, and puddles remain in a stretch all the way across the room. Usopp drips from the tip of his nose.
Franky stands up, hover-handing Usopp as if he’s worried he might be mad. Usopp smiles to reassure him that, no, he’s not.
“That good, huh?” he says with a wink, and the older man takes a second to get it. He blushes, and his stomach falls back open to really punctuate the moment. The remaining soda pooling in his insides pours onto their feet.
They laugh together, and when the moment passes Usopp pokes his fingers past the door. “Seriously, you feeling better? No wonder you were being down on yourself when all that was built up.”
“I guess so!”
Usopp repairs the pipe, and together they design a vacuum gauge to keep an eye on his internal pressure and prevent a similar event from happening in the future. The floor is tacky by the time they get around to cleaning it, and when they do, they do it together.