Title: Dreams

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing/Characters: Zoro/Sanji, Zoro/Kuina-ish as well

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: They are mine as much as they are yours.

Warning: Z/S meaning boy love but then that make us wanna read it even more!

A/N: beta-ed by randomtwirler. Thanks~

It was at that part of the night, where everyone was at their deepest sleep, that Sanji felt himself being pressed roughly against the hammock. He opened his eyes, coming face to face with the swordsman's chest . As he pulled away slightly from Zoro, he noticed that his forehead was creased, a grimace present on his face as if caught up in some nightmare.

"Oi Marimo..." Sanji began to murmur silently, but stopped short when Zoro's facial expression changed.

His brow unfurrowed and he seemed to relax - a shadow of a smile forming on his lips; Sanji's breath hitched at the sight. A trickle of moonlight from the window fell on the swordsman's face, further illuminating the contented smile, and Sanji thought how beautiful Zoro really was...as long as he kept his eyes closed and his mouth shut.

"I...love you..." the marimo whispered gently as he turns in his sleep.

Sleep talking. How adorable.

The cook figured he would tease the marimo head in the morning. But not then; not when his chest was constricting with an emotion that had become acutely familiar to him: The same emotion that knocked his breath away whenever Zoro smiled sleepily at him after a satisfying afternoon nap. The same emotion that made him kiss Zoro back despite whatever insults he had said beforehand.

Sanji reached out to touch the swordsman's face and buried his hand in the soft green hair. He let a genuine smile cross his face at the dreaming swordsman's words, only to be wiped off as he hears the next part.

"I love you...Kuina."

And thus Sanji's heart constricted with something else entirely.

And he swore that his eyes were too tired - that was why they stung. His hands were still frozen in the air.

The cook buried his face deeply into Zoro's chest and the swordsman immediately shifted, wrapping an arm around his waist. The cook limply allowed the swordsman to pull him close, and he barely felt Zoro's hot breath on his head. He wished the sobs weren't real, and he thought maybe he would wake up tomorrow and kick the idiot's ass like nothing ever happened.

Vaguely, he wondered if the swordsman even knew that it was his body he was curled up with that night.