AN: Hey LJ, been a while. So, something different from me. I had random bromancy Usopp/Sanji feels and had to write this out. This is total nakamaship spewage, hope you enjoy. Also, the little pseudonym Jack for Sanji comes from Lepidotzoro's head, not mine. It makes a couple brief appearances in this.
word count: 1,491
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Sometimes, when it’s Usopp’s turn to watch over the ship at night, he fancies a cup of hot chocolate, or coffee. Or tea. Tea works fine too, because it’s not the snug beverage that matters. It’s not just for the sensation of his fingers curling around a warm mug either. Well, actually, maybe it is-why not? one of the plainest loves in life-but that’s not the point.
It’s the person who hands him the mug and has a sit with him every time that matters. The two of them have fallen into a routine in the evening, before Usopp’s shifts, where Sanji-burnt and buried under the ashes of his toilsome day-is willing to be freed and transported into Usopp’s tales. At least, this is what Usopp likes to imagine. And he’s always ecstatic to bring Sanji into the sketchbook of his mind; to morph Sanji’s ashes back to life and rejuvenate him through the medicine of fanciful stories.
He leans back in his seat, a cigarette perched between his lips, white smoke dancing in loops and twirls above him. He laughs.
“What? That’s ridiculous. How strong could a puny little fairy be? They’re like a bug, you know?”
Usopp takes an overexcited gulp from his hot cocoa and cringes as it burns down his throat.
“Ahh, but Sanji-kun~ you don’t understand the mystical power fairies have. They’re not only strong enough to lift this very ship with their fairy dust, but oh-so gullible! And thus, it was easy for Captain Usopp to trick them into his army! All three thousand of them!”
It’s a win-win situation for the both of them. It carries Sanji away from his immediate worries on the ship and lets Usopp’s stories be heard.
Sometimes, even if he’s told fifty epics throughout the course of the day, Usopp gets too engrossed and occupied with himself and his stories. His nakama tend to get disinterested because he’s entrapped their ears all day whilst fishing with the boys, running around deck playing games, or relaxing with the girls. He’s not hurt by this. Usopp tells his stories despite anything. In the evening, his mind is on a roll and he’s jittering, shaking, practically bouncing to find someone to tell tales to. He just finds himself lucky that Sanji-who spends most of his time cooped up in the galley during the day-ends up having a weary, yet generously fresh ear to offer when Usopp needs it most.
But it isn’t just Sanji’s willingness to listen that makes Usopp feel listened to. No, because Sanji actually really seems to be enthralled when he listens. Sanji isn’t just listening, he’s living and breathing his tales. He’s absorbing them, and they stick.
“Wait-wait a second here,” Sanji interrupts with a chuckle, brow raised. “I thought Fiopp was some kid who caught a shape-shifting fish, last time. Right? Wasn’t he…?”
Usopp’s mouth curves up, slightly. He is soundless, rather blown away that Sanji remembered. Then, he beams.
“Well, you see… Fiopp is all grown up now! He’s a strong warrior of the sea-er, not as strong as the Great Captain Usopp, of course-who’s pledged himself to the Usopp Pirates! And that fish! Well, he’s never forgotten about that magical fish because, as it turns out…”
It’s almost kind of scary, and a little hard on his nerves, because besides Kaya, he’s never actually met a person who pays attention to him like this. But, he’s so excited, it mostly makes him tremble.
Sometimes, because of his excitement, he even spills his drink.
“Whoa!” Sanji lurches as the dark brown liquid crawls his way on the table and the vitalizing aroma of coffee stings his nostrils. “Ah, shit, I’ll get a towel. You get so damn into it, Usopp!”
Usopp blushes, but he doesn’t stop his tale because he refuses to be grounded back in the ship’s galley.
“That’s only a replica of Captain Usopp’s battle against a giant, you see? The bigger they are, the harder they fall!”
Sometimes, his stories peel Sanji apart, subtly, layer by layer.
“How dare he attack a lady!” the cook roars.
“But he had no other choice! She’s got the ability to wipe out his entire crew with a bat of her eye! What would happen to his eight thousand followers if Captain Usopp didn’t fight back? There’d be no honour as a captain to abandon them!”
Sanji huffs. “I guess… there’s no choice, in that situation. But I swear, if he doesn’t find a way to restrain her instead, I’m going to kick you up into the crow’s nest tonight, shitty long-nose! Hard!”
Sometimes, they make the cook laugh harder than Usopp has ever seen.
Sanji nearly inhales his cigarette. “He got separated from the crew for four and a half months because he got lost?”
Usopp crosses his arms proudly and nods as he watches the cook crumble into a fit. Sanji slams his hand on the table, veering back, sporting a massive grin, quivering with guffaws so powerful they look almost kind of painful.
“What is he, the damn marimo!?” Sanji cries, folding in, clutching his stomach. His cheeks are flushed when he rises, wiping a tear from his eye.
Sometimes, his stories reveal a part of Usopp to Sanji that he’s never shown anyone before.
“You see, the Great Captain Usopp lost his mother a long time ago, when he was just a kid. She was ill. So even though he’s the bravest, smartest, strongest man in the world, sometimes, he wishes his strength could have saved her. And this makes him a little sad.”
Sanji is silent and still, and the way he’s studying Usopp’s face makes the sharpshooter jump out of his melancholic daze. His heart practically jumps out of his chest. Or maybe it already has, because Sanji’s wearing an expression that seems to imply Usopp’s heart has landed right in the cook’s palm.
“Or-or, w-well, you see, this is very rare! That - that he feels like this. C-Captain…” he gulps. “Captain Usopp, that is…”
Sometimes, pieces of Sanji glimmer back.
“It’s okay, Captain Usopp,” Sanji says with a light grin, taking a drag as he eyes Usopp with sincere blue. He exhales. “Jack, the cook of your crew, right? He doesn’t remember much of his mother, but he lost her, too.”
Usopp, for once speechless, can do nothing more than stare with a mouth stupidly agape. Him, too…
Sometimes, Usopp makes Sanji’s dream come true.
“It was an open sea, the most spectacular one Jack had ever seen! He couldn’t believe his eyes! All Blue was even more beautiful than he’d imagined, even in his dreams! Water so blue it lit up the skies! Fish of every species, so tasty and endless he would need a thousand tongues and stomachs for it all!”
Sanji, palm under his chin, curls over the table, absolutely captivated as Usopp spins this tale-his tale. His expression can’t be any brighter as all he can picture is floundering fins and blue blue blue.
Usopp smirks. “And the best part… no one else had discovered it. The sea was his. Jack cooked a feast that weighed down the world that night.”
But tonight, as it’s time for the weary cook to go to bed, Sanji tells him something remarkable.
Sanji stands, reaching over to take Usopp’s mug.
“That Captain Usopp, he’s really strong. But being the best doesn’t make him a brave warrior.”
“What lies are you spinning, Sanji-kun! This is THE Captain Usopp! He fears nothing! He’s the strongest, bravest warrior there is!” Usopp retorts, cheeks puffing out; heated; appalled; insulted…
Sanji laughs, shaking his head. Then, he stares at Usopp, that one visible eye piercingly real. “I think the struggle… that’s what really takes you there. That’s what makes you who you are. You can’t be brave if you don’t fear anything. And you can’t be a warrior if you’re not brave. It’s the struggle…”
Sanji leans across the table, and Usopp jerks a little when there’s a poke at his chest, hard.
“…that makes you braver than anything.”
A smirk. Graceful footsteps and the rush of water from the tap are muffled to Usopp’s ears as he stares forward, dazzled. Amazed. Awestricken. That was no story, no tale, no myth, but upon delivery it had the impact of a brilliantly devised climax whopping him in the gut. A development so elegantly disguised, so enigmatic, so modest, yet so savvy, witty, clever-so Sanji-he’d never seen it coming.
And so sometimes, Sanji makes Usopp’s dream come true, too.
“You tell the best stories, Usopp. ‘Night.”
The door creaks as the cook ends his night of riveting swordfights and ravishing damsels in distress.
“Oh, and don’t fall asleep up there or you’ll be falling from up there, courtesy of my foot. Got it?”
But most times, Sanji just scares the shit out of him.