One Piece- "To Be Alive"
Title: To be Alive
Universe: One Piece
Theme/Topic: Zoro’s Birthday
Rating: PG-14 for blood play. Sort of.
Character/Pairing/s: ZoroxSanji
Warnings/Spoilers: None I can imagine. Just… OOC and stupidity.
Word Count: 939
Summary: People try to kill Zoro on his birthday. Irony, or something.
Dedication: kotszok- way to distract me from the stuff I’M SUPPOSED TO BE WRITING.
A/N: HAHA this is dumb because I was rushing, trying to get it out before Kaja left for bed. CLEARLY I FAIL BY JUST A LITTLE BIT. *sigh* Sorry! Right. Anyway, back to the crossovers that are KICKING MY ASS HARD.
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wish constantly.
Distribution: Just lemme know.
“Ow!!” Zoro grunted, and glared hard at Sanji. “That hurts, dumbass love-cook!”
Sanji ignored the swordsman’s complaints and continued to methodically unwrap the bloody bandages from around Zoro’s torso. “Fucking moron,” he said, and gritted his teeth when he discovered that some of the bandage was stuck. “Only you would get this fucked up on your birthday.”
“I don’t need a goddamned bandage change. It doesn’t hurt unless you change it.”
“It also gets infected.”
Zoro snorted at that, but didn’t move to argue against it given that it was probably true-most likely. He hissed instead then, sucking in his breath when Sanji began to gingerly peel the sticky bandage away from where it had shifted into his wound. “Dumbass,” the cook continued, “you were supposed to be resting and staying still so it won’t move around like this.”
“It’s my birthday,” Zoro shot back, and sounded a little bit sulky at being chastised like he was.
“And so you can just go ahead and do whatever you want, huh?” Sanji sneered. “What are you, a kid?”
“Shut up! It’s not my fault people wanna kill me especially bad on my birthday.”
The blond snorted. “They like the irony, I guess,” he said, and finished peeling away the wet bandages on Zoro’s stomach before moving to get the ones on his arms.
“Tch. Whatever.”
“Maybe next time you ought to dodge a little better,” Sanji suggested, like he was talking to a particularly dumb puppy. “Something to keep in mind for next year.”
“I was trying to dodge!” Zoro protested, and winced-but-not-quite when Sanji’s fingers brushed against the edge of a particularly nasty burn. He shuddered. “Well whatever. The pain’s a good reminder either way, I guess.”
“Of what, dumbass? What it feels like to hurt?”
Zoro shrugged one shoulder, lazily. “That I’m not dead. That I’ve still got things to do.”
Sanji scoffed. “You can remember that you’re still alive without a goddamned round of bullets in your stomach, aho-marimo. Or am I over-estimating you again?”
Zoro glared at the chef’s sarcasm, leaning back a little and regarding Sanji thoughtfully. “If that’s the case you better gimme an alternative suggestion, love-cook.” Pause. Grin. “Got any ideas of your own on how to remind me I’m alive?”
Sanji glared at the tone. “I am not having sex with you while you’re bleeding all over the floor. Chopper would kill me.”
Zoro strong-armed the blond into his lap anyway. “It’s my birthday,” he reminded him.
Sanji groaned, grabbing hold of Zoro’s shoulders and pushing himself backwards, trying to propel himself out of the swordsman’s grasp. “I don’t care. You’re bloody.”
“So’re you,” Zoro reminded him, and poked the chef in the shoulder, taking the opportunity to pull him in closer when he winced reflexively at having his own wound prodded.
Sanji hissed. “Ow. Fucker.” He glared. “That’s your fault, you know.”
Zoro rolled his eyes. “I didn’t ask you to run into the line of fire to drag me out of the way.” He grinned then. “Say, if you’re changing my bandages does that mean I get to change yours too?”
“No!”
Zoro was already undoing the bindings. “It’s my birthday.”
“I’m not your present!”
Sanji smacked him on the head.
Zoro-undeterred-- sucked on Sanji’s naked shoulder just as soon as he managed to undo the bindings.
“Ow,” Sanji murmured, and shuddered when he felt the sting of hot saliva against raw flesh, “that hurts.”
“Mmmhmm.” Zoro ran his tongue over broken skin and tasted remnants of blood, tangy copper and full of life. As good a reminder as any.
“That’s dirty, asshole,” Sanji warned, though his hands were going slack where they’d been holding Zoro’s shoulders just now, as he unwittingly relaxed.
“Reminds you that you’re alive,” Zoro told him, and tipped his head upwards then, nose brushing the underside of the chef’s jaw. “Hurts less than getting shot, I’ll bet.”
“I need to change your goddamned bandages,” Sanji reiterated, and reached down to run his thumb over the bloody scab starting to form over Zoro’s stomach. “This is disgusting.”
Zoro shivered a little at that, licked the blond’s neck. “Grin and bear it, love-cook. If I can take the pain you better not wimp out on me. Besides, it’s my birthday.”
“So by local tradition, I should be trying to kill you.”
Zoro rolled his eyes. “You made me start bleeding again just now,” he murmured, against the soft white skin of the chef’s throat. “Close enough. Keep going.”
Sanji actually laughed a little at that, low in his throat. “Your logic sucks.”
“Makes sense to me.”
“What, so you want me to try and kill you with sex?”
Zoro smirked and touched his nose to the blond’s, eyes challenging. “You can try.”
Sanji snorted, and after a moment, pushed Zoro onto his back with a resigned sigh. “Only because it’s your birthday, asshole. And because I didn’t get a chance to make cake.”
“Blah, blah, blah, shut up and kill me with sex already.”
“Keep talking like that I’ll just kill you with my fists, asshole.”
Zoro just laughed at that and gingerly laid back; pulling the chef down flush atop him (they only winced just a little bit) in the process. And through it all, he thought to himself that despite being shot and burned and maybe stabbed once or twice, this year’s birthday had ended up-all in all-being a pretty damned good reminder of what it felt like to be really, completely alive.
Even if Chopper did kick their asses afterwards, for reopening their wounds and bleeding all over the floor.
END
EDITS PLZ.
Universe: One Piece
Theme/Topic: Zoro’s Birthday
Rating: PG-14 for blood play. Sort of.
Character/Pairing/s: ZoroxSanji
Warnings/Spoilers: None I can imagine. Just… OOC and stupidity.
Word Count: 939
Summary: People try to kill Zoro on his birthday. Irony, or something.
Dedication: kotszok- way to distract me from the stuff I’M SUPPOSED TO BE WRITING.
A/N: HAHA this is dumb because I was rushing, trying to get it out before Kaja left for bed. CLEARLY I FAIL BY JUST A LITTLE BIT. *sigh* Sorry! Right. Anyway, back to the crossovers that are KICKING MY ASS HARD.
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wish constantly.
Distribution: Just lemme know.
“Ow!!” Zoro grunted, and glared hard at Sanji. “That hurts, dumbass love-cook!”
Sanji ignored the swordsman’s complaints and continued to methodically unwrap the bloody bandages from around Zoro’s torso. “Fucking moron,” he said, and gritted his teeth when he discovered that some of the bandage was stuck. “Only you would get this fucked up on your birthday.”
“I don’t need a goddamned bandage change. It doesn’t hurt unless you change it.”
“It also gets infected.”
Zoro snorted at that, but didn’t move to argue against it given that it was probably true-most likely. He hissed instead then, sucking in his breath when Sanji began to gingerly peel the sticky bandage away from where it had shifted into his wound. “Dumbass,” the cook continued, “you were supposed to be resting and staying still so it won’t move around like this.”
“It’s my birthday,” Zoro shot back, and sounded a little bit sulky at being chastised like he was.
“And so you can just go ahead and do whatever you want, huh?” Sanji sneered. “What are you, a kid?”
“Shut up! It’s not my fault people wanna kill me especially bad on my birthday.”
The blond snorted. “They like the irony, I guess,” he said, and finished peeling away the wet bandages on Zoro’s stomach before moving to get the ones on his arms.
“Tch. Whatever.”
“Maybe next time you ought to dodge a little better,” Sanji suggested, like he was talking to a particularly dumb puppy. “Something to keep in mind for next year.”
“I was trying to dodge!” Zoro protested, and winced-but-not-quite when Sanji’s fingers brushed against the edge of a particularly nasty burn. He shuddered. “Well whatever. The pain’s a good reminder either way, I guess.”
“Of what, dumbass? What it feels like to hurt?”
Zoro shrugged one shoulder, lazily. “That I’m not dead. That I’ve still got things to do.”
Sanji scoffed. “You can remember that you’re still alive without a goddamned round of bullets in your stomach, aho-marimo. Or am I over-estimating you again?”
Zoro glared at the chef’s sarcasm, leaning back a little and regarding Sanji thoughtfully. “If that’s the case you better gimme an alternative suggestion, love-cook.” Pause. Grin. “Got any ideas of your own on how to remind me I’m alive?”
Sanji glared at the tone. “I am not having sex with you while you’re bleeding all over the floor. Chopper would kill me.”
Zoro strong-armed the blond into his lap anyway. “It’s my birthday,” he reminded him.
Sanji groaned, grabbing hold of Zoro’s shoulders and pushing himself backwards, trying to propel himself out of the swordsman’s grasp. “I don’t care. You’re bloody.”
“So’re you,” Zoro reminded him, and poked the chef in the shoulder, taking the opportunity to pull him in closer when he winced reflexively at having his own wound prodded.
Sanji hissed. “Ow. Fucker.” He glared. “That’s your fault, you know.”
Zoro rolled his eyes. “I didn’t ask you to run into the line of fire to drag me out of the way.” He grinned then. “Say, if you’re changing my bandages does that mean I get to change yours too?”
“No!”
Zoro was already undoing the bindings. “It’s my birthday.”
“I’m not your present!”
Sanji smacked him on the head.
Zoro-undeterred-- sucked on Sanji’s naked shoulder just as soon as he managed to undo the bindings.
“Ow,” Sanji murmured, and shuddered when he felt the sting of hot saliva against raw flesh, “that hurts.”
“Mmmhmm.” Zoro ran his tongue over broken skin and tasted remnants of blood, tangy copper and full of life. As good a reminder as any.
“That’s dirty, asshole,” Sanji warned, though his hands were going slack where they’d been holding Zoro’s shoulders just now, as he unwittingly relaxed.
“Reminds you that you’re alive,” Zoro told him, and tipped his head upwards then, nose brushing the underside of the chef’s jaw. “Hurts less than getting shot, I’ll bet.”
“I need to change your goddamned bandages,” Sanji reiterated, and reached down to run his thumb over the bloody scab starting to form over Zoro’s stomach. “This is disgusting.”
Zoro shivered a little at that, licked the blond’s neck. “Grin and bear it, love-cook. If I can take the pain you better not wimp out on me. Besides, it’s my birthday.”
“So by local tradition, I should be trying to kill you.”
Zoro rolled his eyes. “You made me start bleeding again just now,” he murmured, against the soft white skin of the chef’s throat. “Close enough. Keep going.”
Sanji actually laughed a little at that, low in his throat. “Your logic sucks.”
“Makes sense to me.”
“What, so you want me to try and kill you with sex?”
Zoro smirked and touched his nose to the blond’s, eyes challenging. “You can try.”
Sanji snorted, and after a moment, pushed Zoro onto his back with a resigned sigh. “Only because it’s your birthday, asshole. And because I didn’t get a chance to make cake.”
“Blah, blah, blah, shut up and kill me with sex already.”
“Keep talking like that I’ll just kill you with my fists, asshole.”
Zoro just laughed at that and gingerly laid back; pulling the chef down flush atop him (they only winced just a little bit) in the process. And through it all, he thought to himself that despite being shot and burned and maybe stabbed once or twice, this year’s birthday had ended up-all in all-being a pretty damned good reminder of what it felt like to be really, completely alive.
Even if Chopper did kick their asses afterwards, for reopening their wounds and bleeding all over the floor.
END
EDITS PLZ.