![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
salmon_pinkTitle: Olive Twig
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Zoro/Sanji
Rating: PG
Words: 369
Notes: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
100moods, prompt "awake".
Summary: Gently roused from slumber...
Zoro hadn’t woken up in the greatest of moods. This was to expected when the sight he awoke to was a black shoe flying towards his face, and he’d managed to roll out of the way just in time, grogginess shaken in the face of danger, but that didn’t make it any less of a hell of a shitty way to wake up.
He’d distantly heard Usopp’s despondent wail as the sound of wood splintering directly behind where Zoro’s head had been only moments before filled the air, but he hadn’t particularly cared.
He was more focused on looking past the endlessly long leg, and up to Sanji’s face, wondering what the fuck he’d done that warranted such a violent wake-up call.
Sanji looked pissy, which wasn’t really anything new, but he certainly didn’t look furious or anything that justified disturbing Zoro’s midday sleep.
“What?” Zoro growled, hand curling around Wadou’s hilt as he stood. “Bastard,” he added as an afterthought.
A tankard was shoved roughly towards him, the liquid inside somehow not spilling over the sides.
“Nami-san says we’ll reach the next island tomorrow night at the latest,” Sanji grunted, eyes fixed on a point just beyond Zoro’s head. “Until then, this is the last of the rum.”
Zoro blinked at the tankard, and then at Sanji’s scowling face.
“Are you going to take it, or should I just leave it for the others?” Sanji snapped, still not quite looking at Zoro. “I’m sure Luffy and Usopp will split it if you don’t want it.”
Zoro reached out without a word, taking the tankard and distractedly watching the way Sanji moved it so their fingers wouldn’t touch.
Sanji clicked his tongue in annoyance, hands fisting in his pockets, and slouched away.
It was a Tuesday. The weather was fine. It was a perfectly normal afternoon.
Except for the fact that Sanji had apparently just done him a favour. Without even being asked, at that.
Zoro was pretty sure he wasn’t still dreaming, because the rum tasted good, and burned his throat in the way it was supposed to.
Still, a dream seemed like the only logical explanation, because Sanji never, never blushed like that in the waking world.
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Zoro/Sanji
Rating: PG
Words: 369
Notes: For
100moods, prompt "awake".Summary: Gently roused from slumber...
Zoro hadn’t woken up in the greatest of moods. This was to expected when the sight he awoke to was a black shoe flying towards his face, and he’d managed to roll out of the way just in time, grogginess shaken in the face of danger, but that didn’t make it any less of a hell of a shitty way to wake up.
He’d distantly heard Usopp’s despondent wail as the sound of wood splintering directly behind where Zoro’s head had been only moments before filled the air, but he hadn’t particularly cared.
He was more focused on looking past the endlessly long leg, and up to Sanji’s face, wondering what the fuck he’d done that warranted such a violent wake-up call.
Sanji looked pissy, which wasn’t really anything new, but he certainly didn’t look furious or anything that justified disturbing Zoro’s midday sleep.
“What?” Zoro growled, hand curling around Wadou’s hilt as he stood. “Bastard,” he added as an afterthought.
A tankard was shoved roughly towards him, the liquid inside somehow not spilling over the sides.
“Nami-san says we’ll reach the next island tomorrow night at the latest,” Sanji grunted, eyes fixed on a point just beyond Zoro’s head. “Until then, this is the last of the rum.”
Zoro blinked at the tankard, and then at Sanji’s scowling face.
“Are you going to take it, or should I just leave it for the others?” Sanji snapped, still not quite looking at Zoro. “I’m sure Luffy and Usopp will split it if you don’t want it.”
Zoro reached out without a word, taking the tankard and distractedly watching the way Sanji moved it so their fingers wouldn’t touch.
Sanji clicked his tongue in annoyance, hands fisting in his pockets, and slouched away.
It was a Tuesday. The weather was fine. It was a perfectly normal afternoon.
Except for the fact that Sanji had apparently just done him a favour. Without even being asked, at that.
Zoro was pretty sure he wasn’t still dreaming, because the rum tasted good, and burned his throat in the way it was supposed to.
Still, a dream seemed like the only logical explanation, because Sanji never, never blushed like that in the waking world.
