Will write on command. I'm so domesticated.

[chibi_trillian]

mettathron wanted ZoSan fluff as a carrot. These two words are almost on different planets, but I fought mightly and managed to get the two nearly in the same fic.

Title: Hold Your Breath
Series: One Piece.
One Piece: Not mine.
Rating: PG-13 for language.


Sanji shivered and pushed himself closer to Zoro, thin blanket not doing nearly enough to keep him from dying of hypothermia. Chopper was doing a decent job of acting as a large, furry heat generator for the rest of the crew, but only so many people could cling to Chopper before the poor man-reindeer started suffocating. So the two people who, as Nami-san had put it, “certainly do a good enough job keeping each other warm most nights” had gotten pitched to go sleep by themselves on the couch.

Sanji was freezing his nuts off, and this green-haired moron didn’t even have the courtesy to be awake long enough to care. He was skinny, dammit. His body retained heat poorly. He’d spent most of today practically wrapped around the stove and he’d still been cold. If he lost his fingers to frostbite, these assholes would all pay with their lives.

He squirmed against the other man, trying to soak up some of Zoro’s seemingly bottomless supply of body heat. Zoro grunted, then cracked an eye open.

“Stop wriggling, Love Cook. People are trying to sleep.”

Sanji hated pulling this, but he really was going to freeze into a chef-shaped ice sculpture if he didn’t get warm soon. He pouted. It was unmanly and dangerously close to a sign of weakness, but nothing made Zoro cave faster than puppy eyes. He just had to make sure none of the others saw him do it, or he’d never hear the end of it.

“Wha? Aw, hell. What the fuck do you want?” Score one for the sad face Sanji had ripped off of Nami-san, talented little minx that she was.

“Cold.”

Sanji had been expecting Zoro to say, “No shit it’s cold. What do you want me to do about it?” He hadn’t been expecting Zoro to sigh, hook an arm around his waist, and bodily flip him into the warm spot where Zoro had been sleeping. He restrained his yelp of surprise, but it was a near thing. Sanji opened his mouth to complain about the suddenness of it and the rudeness of certain marimo-heads, and…

…and then, Zoro kissed him on the forehead and pulled him close to his chest. With the warm back of the couch behind him and Zoro in front of him, the bitter cold eased off. Sanji could even start to feel his fingers again. Of course, some of that new heat was him blushing like a schoolgirl. Damn, but he never knew how to react when Zoro had these rare affectionate moments. It was fortunate that they were so few and far between, or Sanji would have started to suspect that Zoro had gone mushy on him.

Zoro’s low-voiced murmur of “Better?” into his hair didn’t help the blush at all. All Sanji could really do was nod. The warm arms around him squeezed tight, and Zoro exhaled something that might have been “Good.” Then the arms slackened slightly and Zoro’s breathing evened out. It was so quiet for a moment that Sanji could hear ice crackling in the rigging and the soft slow thump of this big idiot’s heart.

Naturally, Luffy started snoring like a buzzsaw. God forbid a silence exist that his captain did not rush to fill, even in his sleep.

Most of the time, their relationship was like fire—snapping, burning, flaring, spitting, heated, and angry. But even the best-fed fire died down to banked embers every once and a while. Usually, these moments were spent in amicable companionship, Zoro watching Sanji cook or Sanji sitting close while Zoro cleaned and oiled his swords. It had always felt a little strange to Sanji, spending time around Zoro where the two of them were just…okay. It was like the pause between breaths.

Right now, warm and comfortable under Zoro, blush fading as he slipped towards sleep, Sanji thought that maybe he didn’t mind holding his breath a bit longer.

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