Wow, twice in one night.
Nov. 16th, 2005 01:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chibi_trillianDamn, this fic is a crackfic in more than one way. I can't seem to stop writing it.
Sanji's Uke-Uke Fruit Adventure: Part the Third
Series = One Piece = not mine.
After a few minutes of very unmanly near-hysterics, Sanji managed to pull the sodden threads of his dignity together enough to push away from Zoro’s shoulder and wipe his nose.
Wait—Zoro’s shoulder? Shoulder, being the bit between the arm and the neck, belonging to one Zoro, male swordsman, to whom Sanji was currently clinging like a barnacle. Yes, that Zoro’s shoulder.
Sanji lurched backwards, startling Zoro, who had been patting him rather awkwardly on the back. The rest of the Going Merry’s crew was currently trying to figure out if they should give the two of them some time alone together or continue standing around trying to be solicitous while politely not paying any attention at the same time. Even Luffy seemed to be at a bit of a loss.
Sanji took a half step back, giving himself a bit of personal space away from Zoro…Zoro, who had gotten so damn tall all of the sudden. Sanji barely came up to his shoulder. The hell?
After a moment, Sanji realized that it wasn’t Zoro who had gotten tall—it was Sanji who had gotten short. He was now a midget, a shrimp, a tiny person, someone who actually needed a stepstool to reach the top of their spice cabinet. Sanji’s legs felt suddenly weak and he slumped down on the deck, wishing for a smoke or a drink or a bullet to the head or something. Zoro jumped as if to catch him and wound up following him down to the deck and holding him rather awkwardly from behind instead. Stupid sword-swinging meathead couldn’t do anything right…except look dashingly handsome and concerned…and really, really kissable…his face was so close…
They would have smooched, and it would have been romantic and all. Nami would have taken pictures for blackmail, Usopp would have gone green, and Luffy would have nodded to himself and wandered off, and that would’ve been that. They would have, except that the part of Sanji’s body that usually reported fighting-ready under all circumstances finally managed to get his attention (after quite a bit of trying)—legs reporting that they had been tenderized, broiled, stewed, and finally rendered into something vaguely meat-flavored that could be eaten through a straw.
Sanji broke the deep soulgaze he’d been sharing with Zoro, the kind that usually preceded ravishment of some sort and really wasn't the kind of thing he'd ever pictured himself sharing with someone whose head looked like a marimo. He slowly extended one leg and thumped his foot experimentally on the deck. This morning, that carefully judged blow would have brought the board it landed on within a hair of breaking and certainly would have sent at least one nail flying.
This afternoon, it made kind of a muffled stomping sound. That was about it. There was no point to trying again. If there was one thing Sanji knew, it was exactly how his legs felt when they were working, and right now, they weren’t.
“Why?” Sanji whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. “Hey gods, why don’t you take my cooking skills too? YOU’VE TAKEN EVERYTHING ELSE!” Incipient hysteria, part the second, was well underway. Zoro shifted in alarm behind him.
Then, Sanji felt a warm weight on his head, and something pressing his hair down flat.
He opened his eyes and found himself staring straight into Luffy’s. Luffy’s face was unsmiling for a change, and the weight on Sanji’s head was Luffy’s beloved straw hat with the captain’s hand on top of it. A benediction, Luffy-style, an unspoken promise of protection and friendship. An assurance that he was still part of the Going Merry’s crew whether he wanted to be or not.
Sanji looked around under the brim of the hat. Zoro was behind him, bracing him. Luffy was in front of him, starting to smile again. Usopp, Chopper, Nami, and even the normally aloof Robin were kneeling around him and offering their silent support to the guy who was used to being the one pulling their bacon out of the fire. Well…not Robin-chan’s bacon. Not often Nami-san’s bacon. Okay, so he wound up rescuing the farmboy and the critter more often than either of his damsels, but still. Sanji relaxed a bit. Crew. Family. Not alone. Sometimes a little too not alone.
Luffy grinned, plopped his hat back on his own head, and said, “Things will be fine. What’s for dinner?”
Sanji's Uke-Uke Fruit Adventure: Part the Third
Series = One Piece = not mine.
After a few minutes of very unmanly near-hysterics, Sanji managed to pull the sodden threads of his dignity together enough to push away from Zoro’s shoulder and wipe his nose.
Wait—Zoro’s shoulder? Shoulder, being the bit between the arm and the neck, belonging to one Zoro, male swordsman, to whom Sanji was currently clinging like a barnacle. Yes, that Zoro’s shoulder.
Sanji lurched backwards, startling Zoro, who had been patting him rather awkwardly on the back. The rest of the Going Merry’s crew was currently trying to figure out if they should give the two of them some time alone together or continue standing around trying to be solicitous while politely not paying any attention at the same time. Even Luffy seemed to be at a bit of a loss.
Sanji took a half step back, giving himself a bit of personal space away from Zoro…Zoro, who had gotten so damn tall all of the sudden. Sanji barely came up to his shoulder. The hell?
After a moment, Sanji realized that it wasn’t Zoro who had gotten tall—it was Sanji who had gotten short. He was now a midget, a shrimp, a tiny person, someone who actually needed a stepstool to reach the top of their spice cabinet. Sanji’s legs felt suddenly weak and he slumped down on the deck, wishing for a smoke or a drink or a bullet to the head or something. Zoro jumped as if to catch him and wound up following him down to the deck and holding him rather awkwardly from behind instead. Stupid sword-swinging meathead couldn’t do anything right…except look dashingly handsome and concerned…and really, really kissable…his face was so close…
They would have smooched, and it would have been romantic and all. Nami would have taken pictures for blackmail, Usopp would have gone green, and Luffy would have nodded to himself and wandered off, and that would’ve been that. They would have, except that the part of Sanji’s body that usually reported fighting-ready under all circumstances finally managed to get his attention (after quite a bit of trying)—legs reporting that they had been tenderized, broiled, stewed, and finally rendered into something vaguely meat-flavored that could be eaten through a straw.
Sanji broke the deep soulgaze he’d been sharing with Zoro, the kind that usually preceded ravishment of some sort and really wasn't the kind of thing he'd ever pictured himself sharing with someone whose head looked like a marimo. He slowly extended one leg and thumped his foot experimentally on the deck. This morning, that carefully judged blow would have brought the board it landed on within a hair of breaking and certainly would have sent at least one nail flying.
This afternoon, it made kind of a muffled stomping sound. That was about it. There was no point to trying again. If there was one thing Sanji knew, it was exactly how his legs felt when they were working, and right now, they weren’t.
“Why?” Sanji whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. “Hey gods, why don’t you take my cooking skills too? YOU’VE TAKEN EVERYTHING ELSE!” Incipient hysteria, part the second, was well underway. Zoro shifted in alarm behind him.
Then, Sanji felt a warm weight on his head, and something pressing his hair down flat.
He opened his eyes and found himself staring straight into Luffy’s. Luffy’s face was unsmiling for a change, and the weight on Sanji’s head was Luffy’s beloved straw hat with the captain’s hand on top of it. A benediction, Luffy-style, an unspoken promise of protection and friendship. An assurance that he was still part of the Going Merry’s crew whether he wanted to be or not.
Sanji looked around under the brim of the hat. Zoro was behind him, bracing him. Luffy was in front of him, starting to smile again. Usopp, Chopper, Nami, and even the normally aloof Robin were kneeling around him and offering their silent support to the guy who was used to being the one pulling their bacon out of the fire. Well…not Robin-chan’s bacon. Not often Nami-san’s bacon. Okay, so he wound up rescuing the farmboy and the critter more often than either of his damsels, but still. Sanji relaxed a bit. Crew. Family. Not alone. Sometimes a little too not alone.
Luffy grinned, plopped his hat back on his own head, and said, “Things will be fine. What’s for dinner?”
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(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-16 07:56 am (UTC)>_> Oi. For Sanji's sake, I hope this turns out to be temporary...
*is still spazzing over Sanji broke the deep soulgaze he’d been sharing with Zoro, so much so that could barely read the kind that usually preceded ravishment of some sort and really wasn't the kind of thing he'd ever pictured himself sharing with someone whose head looked like a marimo, without harming self*
Oops. Too late! *wails, falls off chair again* Much fun!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-16 01:51 pm (UTC)I'm waiting for Sanji to puzzle out that all the people Luffy has gone "Here, watch my hat for me while I go kick some ass on your behalf," to have been chicks.
Don't hurt yourself. O_o Zoro's marimo-head may be amusing, but it is neither a toy nor a floation device and should not be used as such. The rest of him, on the other hand...
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-16 01:17 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-16 01:56 pm (UTC)