Christmas ain't the time for breaking each other's hearts Pt 2[One Piece, ZoSan/Nasopp & ensemble]
Title: Christmas ain’t the time for breaking each other’s hearts
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing/Characters: Zoro/Sanji, Usopp/Nami, Franky/Robin, Chopper, Luffy & Brooke, a handful of original okama and other minor background characters
Rating: R
Disclaimer: One Piece and its characters do not belong to me.
Summary: Future fic; proposals and pregnancies are supposed to bring people together, not break them apart, but the Straw Hat pirates never do anything the way normal people should. A Christmas and birthday celebration turns into a big mess, but maybe there’ll be a happy ending somewhere.
A/N: I apologize for the rather obvious lack of Luffy and Brooke. I tend not to use them much; I’m not very confident when it comes to writing their voices. I am trying to use more Franky and Robin, though.
A/N #2: This chapter is unofficially titled “Tramp Stamp” because I love that phrase and I don’t actually use it even though I really wanted to. Perhaps I didn’t want to cheapen the moment. …*snort*
[Part Two]
Shopping bags littered the galley of the Escargot as Sanji went from one end of the room to the other, putting away everything they’d bought. Three big hams and two giant turkeys, spices and herbs, sea king meat, rice, rice, and more rice, apples and oranges, all the makings for a Christmas cake and a birthday cake and cotton candy and all forms of chocolate and Christmas pudding, and coffee and tea and-
“Did you get my booze?”
Sanji held up two of the twenty bottles of wine and clinked them together. “I got the cheap shit you like, too.”
“Well, aren’t you just the sweetest thing.” Zoro smirked broadly; his expression faltered slightly in barely noticeable apprehension when Chopper carefully started stripping away some of his bandages. “You shouldn’t be in here, you know,” he told the reindeer. “It’ll ruin the surprise of the dinner.”Both Sanji and Chopper looked at him with suspicious arched eyebrows. “What?”
“What did you do?” Chopper asked.
“Nothing! I haven’t done a damn thing since you put this stuff on me.” Zoro scowled, looking a little petulant. “Last night, I didn’t even-”
“Oi.” Sanji had no qualms about making declarations of physical love to every woman he met, perhaps because there wasn’t any harm in something imaginary; but he was loathe to share aloud the very real details of his and Zoro’s intimacy.
“Well, you didn’t reopen your wound,” Chopper said, sounding pleasantly surprised.
“But I still want you to take it easy, all right?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“What happened to the idiot, anyway?” Sanji asked, the question sounding effortlessly nonchalant thanks to years of perfecting feigned indifference toward the swordsman’s well-being.
“Nothing,” came the expected response.
“A challenger,” Chopper explained, rewrapping the man’s middle.
“Like I said,” Zoro said. “Nothing.”
Sanji finished putting things away and took out a cigarette. “Looks like he put up a good fight.”
“It’s not that bad,” Zoro snapped as he stood and headed for the door. “Chill the fuck out.”
Sanji watched him leave, unlit cigarette between his frowning lips. Fuck, if there was one thing he hated about being the lover of the world’s greatest swordsman… He looked down when he felt a hoof tugging at his sleeve.
“He’ll be fine,” Chopper assured him. “Really.”
“Yeah,” Sanji muttered, lighting the cigarette. “This time.”
[--]
Sometimes, Franky forgot how beautiful Robin was.
He and Usopp had been invited to offer constructive criticism of the dresses Robin and Nami were trying on as they tried to pick one for the celebration; but he doubted that was the real reason, since he and Usopp knew absolutely nothing about lady dresses. So as he sat back and watched, he found himself falling for the raven-haired woman all over again. He was drawn to the stretch of her neck, the hollow of her breasts, her bake ankles and her slender fingers.
“How do we look?”
Sexy. “Super.”
“Very constructive,” Robin tittered, evenly meeting his not-well-concealed gaze of lust.
“Well, what do you want us to say?” Franky grinned cheekily. “That it makes you look fat?”
Nami’s eyes narrowed. “Who looks fat?”
“No one!”
Usopp smiled, eyes watching them but not really seeing much more than a blur of shiny evening gowns and cleavage and jewelry and a barely-there bulge where Possibility Number Three was growing.
[--]
They’d been fighting off the marines in a storm when Nami miscarried a second time. Usopp had been running from cannon to cannon, aiming, lighting fuses, raising his voice to yell out orders to his crew over the heavy rain and thunderclaps. He hadn’t heard Nami calling him and when the battle was over, the boom of the cannons had been ringing in his ears and it’d taken him longer than it should’ve to realize something was wrong.
He’d wiped sweat and rain and gunpowder off his face and found her in the infirmary, wrapped in bloodied sheets. She’d looked at him, eyes red and puffy, and said, “You missed it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s all right. If you’ve seen one, you’ve seen…”
“I’m so sorry.”
Nami bit her lip and nodded and cried some more as Usopp crawled into the bed beside her, staining his clothes red.
[--]
Red and green. Silver and blue. Gold and plum. The clear night sky was lit up with bursts of color and the bangs and crackles of the fireworks could be heard all over the smallish island. The Straw Hat pirates tried to blend into the crowd of people gathered in the town square. Careful eyes watched Luffy for any signs of potential trouble; but their captain, wearing the same childlike expression of bright-eyed wonder as Chopper beside him, seemed too enraptured to cause any mischief. At least, for the time being.
Usopp looked away from the long trail of glittering sparks as he felt his wife take his hand. He tried to mentally steady himself; every conversation he had with her seemed to be about the baby, which he understood, but couldn’t they just talk about the weather?
“Names,” she said.
Something tightened in his chest and he looked back up at the sky. “I think…it’s maybe too early for names.”
“If it’s a girl,” she continued, “we should name her after your mother.”
God, he would’ve given anything to see his mother hold his baby; he tried to picture it but he could just see her the way she was when she was sick and withering away, and the baby in his head was too small and unreal. He slipped his hand free. “I’ve got if-I-stand-in-one-place-too-long-I’ll-die disease…”
“Usopp.”
“Really, I get this disgusting rash in places you don’t even wanna know-”
“You do not get to walk away from this!”
Usopp prepared to respond, but a hand clamped down on each of shoulders before he could-one big, one small, both strong.
“I’m sure he has no intention of walking away,” Robin said, her hand squeezing.
“You’re not walking away, right, bro?” Franky asked, hand patting. Usopp opened, closed his mouth.
He sighed, looked up at the fireworks, down at the ground, and asked, “What if it’s a boy?”
Zoro and Sanji stood in the outskirts of the crowd. Despite Zoro’s attitude earlier, Sanji was feeling generous. And in their relationship, “generous” translated to “really horny”. He pushed back into Zoro, who rocked against him in response and held his hips loosely.
Sanji took the cigarette out of his mouth and glanced over his shoulder, exhaling a stream of smoke and waiting for Zoro to meet his eyes. “I’ve got something I wanna show you.”
“Yeah?”
Sanji flashed a small, seductive smile that made the swordsman’s heart rate picked up speed. “Yeah. Hold this.” He reached back and placed the cigarette between Zoro’s lips and chuckled at the resulting grimace. He untucked his shirt from his slacks and lifted the back of it and his winter coat a little. “Hold these up,” he said, and Zoro happily obliged. He unbuttoned his pants to loosen them and lowered them just a little.
Zoro watched as the tantalizing small of his back was exposed and-wait. He freed one hand so he could tug Sanji’s pants down just a little more and see the black ink that was on his skin in the form of a scorpion.
A memory: “So, you’re a Scorpio,” Sanji says, on the night of Zoro’s first birthday on the ship.
Zoro shrugs, drinks from the bottle of rum the cook gave him. “I guess.”
Sanji nods and it’s quiet and the stars are out and it’s nice. “Scorpions are ugly.”
Bastard. Zoro lowers the bottle and frowns. “Your face.”
“Your mom.”
“You don’t even know her; don’t be a jerk.”
Sanji laughs lightly in a genuine, kind manner that surprises Zoro, and it’s nice.
“Holy shit,” Zoro breathed around the cigarette, running his thumb over the tattoo. “It’s got three claws.”
“Mmhm,” Sanji hummed, knowing he didn’t have to explain. “It’s deformed.”
“Oi.”
Sanji smiled back at him. “Wanna go back to the inn and…get a better look at it?”
[--]
Zoro was about to burst and they hadn’t even taken off their coats yet. Sanji’s fingernails were making marks on the back of his neck, legs tightening around his waist, as Zoro ground him into the wall. Part of him wanted to stop but another part, the part between his thighs, told him that stopping was a very stupid idea. He grabbed Sanji’s ass and brought him even closer, swallowing the other man’s moan; and it was the reminder of what was decorated right above said ass that allowed him to cool down enough to stop.
“Lemme see it,” he said, stepping back and letting Sanji put his feet on the floor.
“Ask nicely.”
“Turn the fuck around.”
Sanji did, starting to slowly unzip his winter coat. Zoro didn’t feel like waiting; growling, he undid the cook’s pants and got on his knees and he pulled them down enough so he could see the tattoo. He traced it with his fingers, grinning when he felt Sanji shiver. He pressed his lips there, opening his mouth and letting his tongue slide onto the skin.
Sanji continued to undress with one hand, the other one reaching down so his fingers could grip at Zoro’s hair. He exhaled in a hiss as the swordsman’s tongue moved down, down, teasing right below the waistband of his pants. “Fuck,” he groaned, tugging at Zoro’s hair. “C’mere.”
Zoro stood and Sanji turned to kiss him. Their tongues tangled; Sanji hastily got to work on unbuttoning Zoro’s coat and pushing it off, his mission hindered by Zoro’s hands sliding down the back of his pants. He pushed harder as Zoro stubbornly resisted, his hips thrusting forward instinctively when Zoro’s fingers slid between the cheeks of his ass.
“Stop, idiot.”
“Make me.”
“Get this off,” he grunted as-
-one bold finger entered him.
-he pushed at the coat, hard.
-a black box fell out of the pocket and landed on the floor with a soft thump.
Both men stilled. Zoro’s heart stopped, and then started hammering away at a pace he was almost certain was kind of dangerous. He retracted his hands and watched Sanji stare at the box with an expression he couldn’t read.
“Is that-?”
He nodded, realized Sanji wasn’t looking at him. “Yes.”
Sanji did look at him then, visible eye wide in shock and awe and confusion and nervousness and doubt and tension and love; Zoro offered a lame, hesitant smile in return.
“Merry early Christmas?”
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing/Characters: Zoro/Sanji, Usopp/Nami, Franky/Robin, Chopper, Luffy & Brooke, a handful of original okama and other minor background characters
Rating: R
Disclaimer: One Piece and its characters do not belong to me.
Summary: Future fic; proposals and pregnancies are supposed to bring people together, not break them apart, but the Straw Hat pirates never do anything the way normal people should. A Christmas and birthday celebration turns into a big mess, but maybe there’ll be a happy ending somewhere.
A/N: I apologize for the rather obvious lack of Luffy and Brooke. I tend not to use them much; I’m not very confident when it comes to writing their voices. I am trying to use more Franky and Robin, though.
A/N #2: This chapter is unofficially titled “Tramp Stamp” because I love that phrase and I don’t actually use it even though I really wanted to. Perhaps I didn’t want to cheapen the moment. …*snort*
[Part Two]
Shopping bags littered the galley of the Escargot as Sanji went from one end of the room to the other, putting away everything they’d bought. Three big hams and two giant turkeys, spices and herbs, sea king meat, rice, rice, and more rice, apples and oranges, all the makings for a Christmas cake and a birthday cake and cotton candy and all forms of chocolate and Christmas pudding, and coffee and tea and-
“Did you get my booze?”
Sanji held up two of the twenty bottles of wine and clinked them together. “I got the cheap shit you like, too.”
“Well, aren’t you just the sweetest thing.” Zoro smirked broadly; his expression faltered slightly in barely noticeable apprehension when Chopper carefully started stripping away some of his bandages. “You shouldn’t be in here, you know,” he told the reindeer. “It’ll ruin the surprise of the dinner.”Both Sanji and Chopper looked at him with suspicious arched eyebrows. “What?”
“What did you do?” Chopper asked.
“Nothing! I haven’t done a damn thing since you put this stuff on me.” Zoro scowled, looking a little petulant. “Last night, I didn’t even-”
“Oi.” Sanji had no qualms about making declarations of physical love to every woman he met, perhaps because there wasn’t any harm in something imaginary; but he was loathe to share aloud the very real details of his and Zoro’s intimacy.
“Well, you didn’t reopen your wound,” Chopper said, sounding pleasantly surprised.
“But I still want you to take it easy, all right?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“What happened to the idiot, anyway?” Sanji asked, the question sounding effortlessly nonchalant thanks to years of perfecting feigned indifference toward the swordsman’s well-being.
“Nothing,” came the expected response.
“A challenger,” Chopper explained, rewrapping the man’s middle.
“Like I said,” Zoro said. “Nothing.”
Sanji finished putting things away and took out a cigarette. “Looks like he put up a good fight.”
“It’s not that bad,” Zoro snapped as he stood and headed for the door. “Chill the fuck out.”
Sanji watched him leave, unlit cigarette between his frowning lips. Fuck, if there was one thing he hated about being the lover of the world’s greatest swordsman… He looked down when he felt a hoof tugging at his sleeve.
“He’ll be fine,” Chopper assured him. “Really.”
“Yeah,” Sanji muttered, lighting the cigarette. “This time.”
[--]
Sometimes, Franky forgot how beautiful Robin was.
He and Usopp had been invited to offer constructive criticism of the dresses Robin and Nami were trying on as they tried to pick one for the celebration; but he doubted that was the real reason, since he and Usopp knew absolutely nothing about lady dresses. So as he sat back and watched, he found himself falling for the raven-haired woman all over again. He was drawn to the stretch of her neck, the hollow of her breasts, her bake ankles and her slender fingers.
“How do we look?”
Sexy. “Super.”
“Very constructive,” Robin tittered, evenly meeting his not-well-concealed gaze of lust.
“Well, what do you want us to say?” Franky grinned cheekily. “That it makes you look fat?”
Nami’s eyes narrowed. “Who looks fat?”
“No one!”
Usopp smiled, eyes watching them but not really seeing much more than a blur of shiny evening gowns and cleavage and jewelry and a barely-there bulge where Possibility Number Three was growing.
[--]
They’d been fighting off the marines in a storm when Nami miscarried a second time. Usopp had been running from cannon to cannon, aiming, lighting fuses, raising his voice to yell out orders to his crew over the heavy rain and thunderclaps. He hadn’t heard Nami calling him and when the battle was over, the boom of the cannons had been ringing in his ears and it’d taken him longer than it should’ve to realize something was wrong.
He’d wiped sweat and rain and gunpowder off his face and found her in the infirmary, wrapped in bloodied sheets. She’d looked at him, eyes red and puffy, and said, “You missed it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s all right. If you’ve seen one, you’ve seen…”
“I’m so sorry.”
Nami bit her lip and nodded and cried some more as Usopp crawled into the bed beside her, staining his clothes red.
[--]
Red and green. Silver and blue. Gold and plum. The clear night sky was lit up with bursts of color and the bangs and crackles of the fireworks could be heard all over the smallish island. The Straw Hat pirates tried to blend into the crowd of people gathered in the town square. Careful eyes watched Luffy for any signs of potential trouble; but their captain, wearing the same childlike expression of bright-eyed wonder as Chopper beside him, seemed too enraptured to cause any mischief. At least, for the time being.
Usopp looked away from the long trail of glittering sparks as he felt his wife take his hand. He tried to mentally steady himself; every conversation he had with her seemed to be about the baby, which he understood, but couldn’t they just talk about the weather?
“Names,” she said.
Something tightened in his chest and he looked back up at the sky. “I think…it’s maybe too early for names.”
“If it’s a girl,” she continued, “we should name her after your mother.”
God, he would’ve given anything to see his mother hold his baby; he tried to picture it but he could just see her the way she was when she was sick and withering away, and the baby in his head was too small and unreal. He slipped his hand free. “I’ve got if-I-stand-in-one-place-too-long-I’ll-die disease…”
“Usopp.”
“Really, I get this disgusting rash in places you don’t even wanna know-”
“You do not get to walk away from this!”
Usopp prepared to respond, but a hand clamped down on each of shoulders before he could-one big, one small, both strong.
“I’m sure he has no intention of walking away,” Robin said, her hand squeezing.
“You’re not walking away, right, bro?” Franky asked, hand patting. Usopp opened, closed his mouth.
He sighed, looked up at the fireworks, down at the ground, and asked, “What if it’s a boy?”
Zoro and Sanji stood in the outskirts of the crowd. Despite Zoro’s attitude earlier, Sanji was feeling generous. And in their relationship, “generous” translated to “really horny”. He pushed back into Zoro, who rocked against him in response and held his hips loosely.
Sanji took the cigarette out of his mouth and glanced over his shoulder, exhaling a stream of smoke and waiting for Zoro to meet his eyes. “I’ve got something I wanna show you.”
“Yeah?”
Sanji flashed a small, seductive smile that made the swordsman’s heart rate picked up speed. “Yeah. Hold this.” He reached back and placed the cigarette between Zoro’s lips and chuckled at the resulting grimace. He untucked his shirt from his slacks and lifted the back of it and his winter coat a little. “Hold these up,” he said, and Zoro happily obliged. He unbuttoned his pants to loosen them and lowered them just a little.
Zoro watched as the tantalizing small of his back was exposed and-wait. He freed one hand so he could tug Sanji’s pants down just a little more and see the black ink that was on his skin in the form of a scorpion.
A memory: “So, you’re a Scorpio,” Sanji says, on the night of Zoro’s first birthday on the ship.
Zoro shrugs, drinks from the bottle of rum the cook gave him. “I guess.”
Sanji nods and it’s quiet and the stars are out and it’s nice. “Scorpions are ugly.”
Bastard. Zoro lowers the bottle and frowns. “Your face.”
“Your mom.”
“You don’t even know her; don’t be a jerk.”
Sanji laughs lightly in a genuine, kind manner that surprises Zoro, and it’s nice.
“Holy shit,” Zoro breathed around the cigarette, running his thumb over the tattoo. “It’s got three claws.”
“Mmhm,” Sanji hummed, knowing he didn’t have to explain. “It’s deformed.”
“Oi.”
Sanji smiled back at him. “Wanna go back to the inn and…get a better look at it?”
[--]
Zoro was about to burst and they hadn’t even taken off their coats yet. Sanji’s fingernails were making marks on the back of his neck, legs tightening around his waist, as Zoro ground him into the wall. Part of him wanted to stop but another part, the part between his thighs, told him that stopping was a very stupid idea. He grabbed Sanji’s ass and brought him even closer, swallowing the other man’s moan; and it was the reminder of what was decorated right above said ass that allowed him to cool down enough to stop.
“Lemme see it,” he said, stepping back and letting Sanji put his feet on the floor.
“Ask nicely.”
“Turn the fuck around.”
Sanji did, starting to slowly unzip his winter coat. Zoro didn’t feel like waiting; growling, he undid the cook’s pants and got on his knees and he pulled them down enough so he could see the tattoo. He traced it with his fingers, grinning when he felt Sanji shiver. He pressed his lips there, opening his mouth and letting his tongue slide onto the skin.
Sanji continued to undress with one hand, the other one reaching down so his fingers could grip at Zoro’s hair. He exhaled in a hiss as the swordsman’s tongue moved down, down, teasing right below the waistband of his pants. “Fuck,” he groaned, tugging at Zoro’s hair. “C’mere.”
Zoro stood and Sanji turned to kiss him. Their tongues tangled; Sanji hastily got to work on unbuttoning Zoro’s coat and pushing it off, his mission hindered by Zoro’s hands sliding down the back of his pants. He pushed harder as Zoro stubbornly resisted, his hips thrusting forward instinctively when Zoro’s fingers slid between the cheeks of his ass.
“Stop, idiot.”
“Make me.”
“Get this off,” he grunted as-
-one bold finger entered him.
-he pushed at the coat, hard.
-a black box fell out of the pocket and landed on the floor with a soft thump.
Both men stilled. Zoro’s heart stopped, and then started hammering away at a pace he was almost certain was kind of dangerous. He retracted his hands and watched Sanji stare at the box with an expression he couldn’t read.
“Is that-?”
He nodded, realized Sanji wasn’t looking at him. “Yes.”
Sanji did look at him then, visible eye wide in shock and awe and confusion and nervousness and doubt and tension and love; Zoro offered a lame, hesitant smile in return.
“Merry early Christmas?”