Birthday fic.
Jun. 13th, 2006 07:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chibi_trillianTiff asked for a fic of the nakamashippy persuasion for her birthday (coming up on the nineteenth), and this is what resulted. She swears she likes it better than anything else she's gotten, so I'm pleased.
Happy twenty-third birthday, hon, and remember, no matter how old you get, I'll still be younger than you. XD
Title: Hand-Me-Down
Series: One Piece.
One Piece: Not mine.
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Nakamashipping in all of its weirdly sweet glory.
The shirt had started out as Sanji’s.
And then one night, Nami snatched it up teasingly and wrapped the silk around her otherwise-naked body, doing a slow strut around the others like the brilliantly-colored, softly-clinging fabric was lingerie. Sanji flushed, torn between embarrassment and desire, and Zoro allowed as to how she looked much better in the shirt than Sanji ever had.
It was true, because while Sanji could wear seemingly any color and get away with it, the warm jewel-tones of this shirt seemed designed for Nami. The deep golds made her skin glow, the fiery oranges and reds brought out highlights in her hair, and the soft ambers added depth to her eyes. Ever the gracious loser, Sanji declared that he’d just fallen in love with her all over again, and Usopp muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “Get in line.”
And so the shirt was Nami’s for a time.
And then one evening, Nami slipped it over Robin’s shoulders after her current shirt had gotten ruined by one of Usopp and Chopper’s wayward experiments. The shirt had faded a bit, harsh sea life having taken something out of it. It was still silky and soft, though, and now its muted tones were more suited to Robin’s pale coloring than Nami’s. Nami insisted that Robin keep it.
Robin smiled slowly at the navigator and asked if there was anything she could do to repay such kindness. The shirt did not stay on for long.
And so the shirt became Robin’s.
And then one afternoon, Usopp got caught in a small rockslide and rolled halfway down a hill on an island they’d found, and Chopper ran around desperately looking for something to bind the sharpshooter’s injured ankle. Robin slipped off the shirt, its fabric bleached by the sun but still strong, and Usopp hobbled home with Robin on one side of him, Chopper on the other, and the shirt wrapped around his ankle.
Seeing only that Robin was in her bra and nothing else from the waist up, Sanji yelled at them for taking advantage of his Robin-chan when he wasn’t around to supervise. Robin used her Hana-Hana abilities to goose the chef and shut him up, much to Luffy’s amusement.
After Chopper had boiled the dirt and blood out of the shirt, its color was almost gone, and Robin told him to keep it, smiling and saying that one never knew when one would need an emergency bandage again.
And so the shirt stayed with Chopper for a bit.
And then one day, Usopp asked Chopper if he had any fabric of particularly fine weave in his bandage kit. Usopp needed to filter a solution for a new sort of Fire Star, and he needed to be very careful about impurities.
Zoro cracked open an eye and asked whether the impurities of the man making it had any effect on the solution, and Usopp snapped out that he hadn’t minded them much last night. Luffy laughed at the two of them and curled up in Zoro’s lap, and that quieted the swordsman down.
Chopper produced the shirt, now boiled and scrubbed nearly white, and Usopp crowed in delight. The worn silk was perfect for what he needed, and he hugged the little reindeer tight.
And so the shirt found a new career with Usopp.
And then one morning, after Usopp had perfected his new formula so that it was less dangerous and finicky and didn’t require such fine filtration, Zoro misplaced his sword-cleaning cloth.
Actually, he knew he hadn’t misplaced it. There were thieving human hands behind its disappearance, and there’d probably be some sort of mischievous game before he got it back. That had been Sanji and Nami’s idea—snatch a small but important item from one of their nakama and hide it to get their attention, leading them on with little clues and come-ons like the flirts they were. Such games could be entertaining (especially when the penalty rounds involved pleasure), but Zoro’s swords needed cleaning, and he wasn’t allowing Sanji to interrupt his morning routine just because he was bored and horny.
So he asked Usopp for some sort of soft cloth. The sleepy sniper rummaged around in his Factory and finally produced the slightly stained but clean shirt. Zoro nodded and thanked Usopp, raising a beckoning eyebrow at the younger man as he did that seemed to wake him up admirably. The blond wasn’t the only one who could be a flirt.
But first, there were swords to clean. Clove oil splashed onto the worn silk, and Zoro settled comfortably into his morning ritual.
And so the shirt became Zoro’s companion for a while.
And then one dawn, as the sunrise painted the sky in a thousand brilliant tones, Sanji came out from the galley to see Luffy sitting on the figurehead and playing with a gossamer-thin bit of fluttering fabric.
Sanji blinked and asked what the cloth was, and Luffy smiled and held it up to the sunrise.
Deep golds, fiery oranges and reds, and soft ambers splashed across the shirt, infusing the threadbare silk until it seemed to catch fire. It danced in the wind, shining with all of its old glory and more, and Sanji recognized it once again.
Luffy let it go.
It flew up into the air, caressing the painted straw-hat Jolly Roger on the sail on its way up, before swirling higher and higher, until it was just a bright mote in the morning light.
And suddenly, it was gone.
Sanji stared into the lightening sky for a long moment, and then a warm weight on his chest brought him back. He stroked his captain’s tousled black hair, and the arms around him hugged him tight.
And then Sanji smacked Luffy for losing his favorite shirt.
Happy twenty-third birthday, hon, and remember, no matter how old you get, I'll still be younger than you. XD
Title: Hand-Me-Down
Series: One Piece.
One Piece: Not mine.
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Nakamashipping in all of its weirdly sweet glory.
The shirt had started out as Sanji’s.
And then one night, Nami snatched it up teasingly and wrapped the silk around her otherwise-naked body, doing a slow strut around the others like the brilliantly-colored, softly-clinging fabric was lingerie. Sanji flushed, torn between embarrassment and desire, and Zoro allowed as to how she looked much better in the shirt than Sanji ever had.
It was true, because while Sanji could wear seemingly any color and get away with it, the warm jewel-tones of this shirt seemed designed for Nami. The deep golds made her skin glow, the fiery oranges and reds brought out highlights in her hair, and the soft ambers added depth to her eyes. Ever the gracious loser, Sanji declared that he’d just fallen in love with her all over again, and Usopp muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “Get in line.”
And so the shirt was Nami’s for a time.
And then one evening, Nami slipped it over Robin’s shoulders after her current shirt had gotten ruined by one of Usopp and Chopper’s wayward experiments. The shirt had faded a bit, harsh sea life having taken something out of it. It was still silky and soft, though, and now its muted tones were more suited to Robin’s pale coloring than Nami’s. Nami insisted that Robin keep it.
Robin smiled slowly at the navigator and asked if there was anything she could do to repay such kindness. The shirt did not stay on for long.
And so the shirt became Robin’s.
And then one afternoon, Usopp got caught in a small rockslide and rolled halfway down a hill on an island they’d found, and Chopper ran around desperately looking for something to bind the sharpshooter’s injured ankle. Robin slipped off the shirt, its fabric bleached by the sun but still strong, and Usopp hobbled home with Robin on one side of him, Chopper on the other, and the shirt wrapped around his ankle.
Seeing only that Robin was in her bra and nothing else from the waist up, Sanji yelled at them for taking advantage of his Robin-chan when he wasn’t around to supervise. Robin used her Hana-Hana abilities to goose the chef and shut him up, much to Luffy’s amusement.
After Chopper had boiled the dirt and blood out of the shirt, its color was almost gone, and Robin told him to keep it, smiling and saying that one never knew when one would need an emergency bandage again.
And so the shirt stayed with Chopper for a bit.
And then one day, Usopp asked Chopper if he had any fabric of particularly fine weave in his bandage kit. Usopp needed to filter a solution for a new sort of Fire Star, and he needed to be very careful about impurities.
Zoro cracked open an eye and asked whether the impurities of the man making it had any effect on the solution, and Usopp snapped out that he hadn’t minded them much last night. Luffy laughed at the two of them and curled up in Zoro’s lap, and that quieted the swordsman down.
Chopper produced the shirt, now boiled and scrubbed nearly white, and Usopp crowed in delight. The worn silk was perfect for what he needed, and he hugged the little reindeer tight.
And so the shirt found a new career with Usopp.
And then one morning, after Usopp had perfected his new formula so that it was less dangerous and finicky and didn’t require such fine filtration, Zoro misplaced his sword-cleaning cloth.
Actually, he knew he hadn’t misplaced it. There were thieving human hands behind its disappearance, and there’d probably be some sort of mischievous game before he got it back. That had been Sanji and Nami’s idea—snatch a small but important item from one of their nakama and hide it to get their attention, leading them on with little clues and come-ons like the flirts they were. Such games could be entertaining (especially when the penalty rounds involved pleasure), but Zoro’s swords needed cleaning, and he wasn’t allowing Sanji to interrupt his morning routine just because he was bored and horny.
So he asked Usopp for some sort of soft cloth. The sleepy sniper rummaged around in his Factory and finally produced the slightly stained but clean shirt. Zoro nodded and thanked Usopp, raising a beckoning eyebrow at the younger man as he did that seemed to wake him up admirably. The blond wasn’t the only one who could be a flirt.
But first, there were swords to clean. Clove oil splashed onto the worn silk, and Zoro settled comfortably into his morning ritual.
And so the shirt became Zoro’s companion for a while.
And then one dawn, as the sunrise painted the sky in a thousand brilliant tones, Sanji came out from the galley to see Luffy sitting on the figurehead and playing with a gossamer-thin bit of fluttering fabric.
Sanji blinked and asked what the cloth was, and Luffy smiled and held it up to the sunrise.
Deep golds, fiery oranges and reds, and soft ambers splashed across the shirt, infusing the threadbare silk until it seemed to catch fire. It danced in the wind, shining with all of its old glory and more, and Sanji recognized it once again.
Luffy let it go.
It flew up into the air, caressing the painted straw-hat Jolly Roger on the sail on its way up, before swirling higher and higher, until it was just a bright mote in the morning light.
And suddenly, it was gone.
Sanji stared into the lightening sky for a long moment, and then a warm weight on his chest brought him back. He stroked his captain’s tousled black hair, and the arms around him hugged him tight.
And then Sanji smacked Luffy for losing his favorite shirt.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-13 11:31 pm (UTC)Thank you for giving this gift to us all... and a very Happy Birthday to the Tiff who inspired it.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-13 11:49 pm (UTC)And Tiff says, "Thank you!"
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-13 11:48 pm (UTC)I think Luffy's moment with the shirt is my favorite.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-13 11:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-14 12:27 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-14 05:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-14 12:58 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-14 06:21 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-14 02:44 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-14 09:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-14 04:45 am (UTC)Happy birthday to Tiff! The phrase "ohhfuckkmmMELLORIIIINNNNNNNNNEE!!" is yours for the day. XD
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-14 09:25 pm (UTC)I feel sorry for ALL the Strawhats' clothing. Most of them have got to go through clothes like popcorn. I even feel bad for Boshi, as beat up as he gets, though for a straw hat he's mysteriously fire-resistant. And I feel REALLY bad for Haramaki-chan, because she's NOT blood-resistant.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-14 11:34 pm (UTC)Luffy either has 3634 of that red vest he wears all the time, or it's made from some kind of magic resistant-everything material. And Zoro prolly knits 6474 haramakis every week or so, too.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-14 08:09 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-14 09:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-15 04:33 am (UTC)s'nice
Wants to be that shirt....
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-15 05:01 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-15 01:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-15 09:49 pm (UTC)Two years later… a comment.
Date: 2008-06-12 08:52 pm (UTC)Re: Two years later… a comment.
Date: 2008-06-13 12:50 pm (UTC)