DISCLAIMER: One Piece and all associated characters do not belong to me. I make no money from this story and do not claim any right to do so... Pleasedon'tsueme!
AN: This here drabble was written for the onepieceyaoi100 LJ comm for the prompt Carousel. I like it, so I thought I'd post it here. Enjoy. I think I'm gonna do this for all my OPY100 drabbles.
Train. Eat. Fight. Fuck.
It was a routine, of sorts, and it was never boring. Well, not for Zoro at least. The rest of the crew didn't seem too impressed with his and Sanji's constant fighting. Not anymore, at least.
Sanji was the only one of Zoro's nakama who was willing to test Zoro's limits. He didn't have to worry about severely hurting the cook, everything he threw at the curly-browed idiot, he could take.
He didn't have to be gentle, didn't have to worry about leaving bruises or spraining something (other then Sanji's wrists, which were the most delicate part of the chef's anatomy). He could bite hard, move fast, and not worry he might be suffocating the slim blond.
He and the shit-cook had an established thing, and it worked, but sometimes…
Well, suffice it to say that Zoro was never one to just leave anything as-is when he thought it could be better.
Cook. Feed. Fight. Fuck.
It was a cycle Sanji was comfortable with, going round and round with the stupid moss ball head. It made for a perfect midday workout, and the greatest form of stress relief after dealing with a day of trying to stop their captain from eating all their stores, fighting marines and other pirates, trying to kept he Going Merry from being destroyed by storms, and just about anything else the Grand Line threw at them.
It worked. Why rock it? The great thing about a carousel was that it was predictable, going round and round.
Actually, anything to do with Roranoa Zoro was more like a roller coaster; frightening at times, but still predicable. Still, relatively safe.
It would figure that Zoro was more of a bungee jumping kind of guy.
-End-