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This wind is uncommonly biting — a steely, merciless cold that slices into the skin.
Zoro is familiar with pain dealt by blades. The cold? Not as much.
When the weather suddenly shifted hours ago, Usopp had dug out their stash of winter coats and passed them to the crew one by one, saying, “Nami is down. We can’t have more of us out of commission.”
Zoro put his on dutifully. It’s a long, dark green jacket lined with fur that Nami bought for him at Loguetown. Didn’t even charge him for it.
His cheeks and ears bear the brunt of the cold. Thanks to Nami’s foresight, Zoro can remain on deck without shivering.
Usopp is here too, manning the whipstaff. Vivi shivers nearby, mainly because Usopp would go crazy without someone to talk to. Luffy looms beside her, eyes intent upon the horizon for any hint of the nearest island.
It turns out none of them is particularly experienced at tending to the sick. Only the cook has managed to stay in Nami’s cabin with its smell of sickness and fear. It’s not that Zoro would hesitate to take over if the situation asks it of him, but he knows there’s nothing he can do for Nami there. That Kuina imposter at Loguetown had called him a brute, and that’s exactly who he is. Zoro’s solution to most problems is slice-and-dice. Down below, Zoro would be useless, and he is perfectly aware of that.
Up here though… up here he is the first mate.
At the opposite corner of the deck, Luffy remains quiet and unsmiling, which is an unnerving combination. This Luffy evokes a wrongness Zoro can’t define. He would fix it immediately if only he knew how.
Zoro shifts on his feet.
Their journey has been soundless except for the howling wintry wind. For once, there is no joy to be found on the ship, and Zoro cannot engender any from thin air. He doesn’t know how to invite Luffy to a game of hide and seek or sing a song for him to dance to. He can’t invent long-winded tall-tales, and Usopp is definitely not in the mood to tell any. He can’t whip up Luffy’s favorite dishes to tempt his appetite, and nothing unnerves him more than an unhungry Luffy.
Zoro thinks. No one interrupts his thinking, but it still takes a while before the solution arrives painfully delayed.
When inspiration does finally come, Zoro doesn’t hesitate to act. He unbuttons the coat Nami bought him and lays it aside. Next he takes off the sweater underneath, leaving him with a tank top that’s there more for modesty than insulation.
Snow melts upon his bare skin. The icy gale cuts like freshly sharpened blades.
Zoro tries his best not to shiver. Steadying his resolve, he takes off the tank top too and tucks it into the back of his pants. Zoro crosses his arms.
“What in the Grand Line are you doing?” Usopp asks, horrified.
Zoro pays no mind to their helmsman, because across from them, Luffy turns around at Usopp’s comment. Zoro has succeeded in drawing his attention away from that endless horizon.
Bewildered brown eyes blink at Zoro’s exposed pectorals. His captain’s gaze is unbearably warm as it roams to the taut muscles of his shoulders and arms, which Zoro has begun to flex unthinkingly in response to the cold.
Luffy watches without judgment. He doesn’t turn back to the horizon. His eyes stay on Zoro’s person.
Emboldened by the response, Zoro uncrosses his arms so that the lines of his abdominals can be displayed without obstruction. Predictably, Luffy’s eyes stray downward, and they flash with surprise. Zoro risks a deep inhale. His chest rises and falls, and with the motion, he can feel his nipples harden in the glacial air.
Luffy’s eyelashes flutter. The stone of his Adam’s apple bobs subtly, but Zoro catches the motion from the corner of his eyes.
“Aren’t you cold?” Usopp interrupts. He adds drolly, “You know, everybody else has got their shirt on.”
Zoro ignores him, but Luffy takes it all in, and a tiny smile ticks the corner of his mouth upwards. Luffy locks eyes with Zoro, and his smile grows with amusement, and confusion, and a dash of appreciation that signals to Zoro he has done his duty as first mate.
Zoro puts the tank top back on. He leaves his arms exposed; the cold be damned — his arms have always been Luffy’s favorite feature of his.
***
Later, Luffy finds him alone at a table in the tavern Dalton escorts them to, nursing a bottle of beer that has long grown warm, waiting for the night to come and go.
“You put your coat back on,” Luffy teases with a grin.
Zoro stands to move physically closer to his captain. He thinks he may be emboldened by the beer, even if he’s hardly had half the bottle.
“Do you want me to take it off again?” he asks. His hands are already on the buttons.
Luffy laughs, and it’s the first honest laugh Zoro has heard from him in four days.
“You’re so funny, Zoro. That was a strange distraction, but it worked! Thanks, Zoro.”
Zoro frowns. “It’s not strange… You’re always looking at my body when I’m working out on deck. You stare at my arms the most often, but you like my abs too. Sometimes I feel your eyes on my back. I think you like to look down at my a—”
Luffy’s hands fly to cover Zoro’s mouth before he could finish his sentence. His captain’s cheeks are as crimson as his signature vest.
“Okay okay! I’m sorry for staring!” Luffy can’t seem to meet Zoro’s eyes anymore, and that’s troubling.
Zoro reaches up and removes the muzzle. The apology irks him, but he doesn’t know how to refute it.
“I’m glad it worked. You’re our captain. You’re Monkey D. Luffy. No matter how bad things get, you need to stay strong. You’ve been so out of it that you haven’t even been eating much since Nami got sick. That can’t happen.”
Luffy frowns and bites his lower lip. Zoro could swear his captain is nearly pouting. He can tell Luffy disagrees quite vehemently.
“I’m the captain. When my crew is in danger,” Luffy says, “I’m responsible. I guess I haven’t had an appetite. But that’s normal, right? I mean, I didn’t want to eat when you were hurt on the Baratie either.”
This new revelation sends Zoro reeling back. He tries to imagine the worried and low-spirited Luffy from the last few days watching over his own comatose body, and Zoro remembers. He remembers the desperate, beseeching voice dragging him out of the darkness, the prayer of “I need you, Zoro” that has tied his cold heartstrings to this man forever. Zoro remembers, and he is resigned.
Zoro captures Luffy’s hands. He puts them around himself and drags Luffy close.
The hug is stiff and awkward because Zoro has never hugged anyone willingly. But Luffy hugs freely and often, and he catches on right away and tightens his arms around Zoro’s torso. Luffy slots into him like a key into its lock. It feels way more natural than Zoro imagined.
“You’ll never have to worry about me like that again,” he vows.
Luffy nods into his chest. He breathes deeply, and the tightness in his shoulders visibly unwinds.
“I’m still sorry, by the way. I won’t stare at you anymore when you work out.”
Zoro pulls back, confused. That would be a terrible unintended consequence.
“Why?” he asks incredulously. The words escape him without his control, needy and unbecoming of the future Pirate King’s first mate, “I want you to watch me at all times.”
Luffy is taken aback. He stares at Zoro wordlessly. The grin decorating his scarred cheek grows bigger by the second until it is stretching impossibly wide, even for a rubber man.
Laughing, Luffy promises, “I will, Zoro! I will! You’re the best!”
He then hugs Zoro again, and the warmth seeps right through Zoro’s coat.