Title: Nothing Special
Author: Celeste
Rating: PG-13 (Some yaoi themes. Like you expected anything else…)
Feedback: (yes!)
Pairing: ZoroxSanji, because that is all. Really. In my head, that's the only one that exists.
Summary: Short Zoro birthday fic- it's just another day.
Genre: Sort of somber humor… I guess. ;;
Time: 63 minutes with edits.
A/N: Another one of those "I'm going to force myself to write even though I don't really have any ideas" stories. --;; I'm so…lazy…lately. But I sort of felt obligated to do something for Zoro's birthday. And ya know, it's my little brother's birthday today too, but since he's in TX and I'm in CA that'll have to wait, so maybe writing this was sort of just a transfer from "Can't do anything about bro's birthday" to "but I can do something about Zoro's, I guess." ;; I have mental issues, I know. Anyway, probably OOC and very, very random, since I didn't have a game plan going in and I sort of still don't coming out. O.o But hopefully someone will be mildly amused by it. Maybe. ;;
Dedication: My brother would kill me if he found out I ever dedicated something yaoi to him, so I'm just going to say this is to everyone celebrating someone's birthday today (yay loophole-ness!). XD
Disclaimer: Not mine… if it were, One Piece would so have more butt-pirate and seamen jokes. XD
He didn't particularly think birthdays were anything special. One more year of having lived, one less in his favor when it came to achieving his dream (if you wanted to look at it that way, or whatever). He didn't feel any different than he had yesterday, or the day before, or the month before. He still felt the same.
A little bit sleepy.
A little bit sore.
Kind of hungry, but not enough to bother, and sort of bored because nothing was going on and kind of glad that nothing was going on because that meant he could take a nap if he felt like it.
Basically, he felt the same way he'd felt yesterday. And the day before. And…
Well, okay, a month ago he'd had eight or nine (or fifteen, but who was counting?) bullet holes in his arm and shoulder and back and leg and some other places maybe, he couldn't remember. And Chopper'd been hovering over his bedside for weeks with obscenely big needles filled with a combination of murky looking liquids that all made the burning go away and left him in a sort of fluffy-cloud haze which he woke up from not remembering anything that happened.
He hoped he hadn't said anything dumb.
So that had been a bit different than normal, a month ago, but just because some assholes had shot him before Sanji'd managed to kick their heads in and then proceed to kick Zoro's head in for being an idiot and just standing there with his weapons drawn and hacking away and not noticing that he was getting shot a bunch of times didn't make it all that different.
The swordsman scowled at that memory. It wasn't like it had really hurt right then. He'd had worse pains than being shot a few measly times, but apparently he'd passed out a few seconds after he'd screamed back at that over-dramatic love-cook that he was fine, and the next thing he knew, he found himself waking up a week later in bed with the burning here and there and Chopper with the needles…
…and Sanji with soup.
Lots of friggin' soup.
Like he was on his deathbed or something like that.
Soup.
Maybe Luffy'd eaten all the meat again or something, but the soup and the soggy bread and the water and the crackers had kind of pissed him off cuz he'd been shot, not exposed to Ebola or anything.
But Sanji just made a lot of soup, and Zoro sort of thought the sick bastard had kind of enjoyed not letting him eat like a man for a few weeks. He wouldn't be surprised in any case. Che.
But anyway, today was his birthday. And he didn't really think it was a really big deal or a special day or anything, especially since when he was thinking about it just now, he'd gone off on some obscenely long tangent that involved the unpleasant memories of his bed-ridden state a few weeks past.
So he'd survived to see another one, and to Roronoa Zoro, that was that. He hadn't beaten Mihawk yet, hadn't gotten his "World's No. 1 Champion" belt or anything, so today was just…another day... albeit one that sort of made him think about the fact that he still hadn't beaten Mihawk and that he'd been shot a few times a month or so ago, and that he was still kind of sore right now (and yeah, maybe he'd reopened a wound or two working out this morning but he wasn't gonna tell Chopper because he was sick of needles and he wasn't gonna tell Sanji either because for one, the cook was an ass and for another, he was sick and tired of eating goddamn soup).
So all in all, it seemed the only purpose his birthday served was to make him think about stuff that he could think about on any other day of the year and still feel the same about.
No big deal. Nothing special.
He shifted his position a little, managed to hold back the grimace, and leaned back more comfortably against the wall. He was bleeding a little bit again, but it was nice to feel the kind of burning in his muscles that he caused himself from working out rather than the one he'd woken up to when Chopper's concoctions of groggy-goodness wore off. He'd have to gradually increase his regimen to catch up on all the training time he'd missed out on while he was out, but the challenge encouraged him more than anything else, and so long as he didn't bleed too much he was pretty sure Chopper and that no-good love cook would leave him be.
"You're bleeding again."
He frowned. Dammit. Or not.
Sanji sat down next to him without an invitation, blowing lazily on his customary afternoon-or-all-the-time-take-your-pick cigarette. Zoro grimaced, but shifted so there was more room anyway.
"Yeah. So?"
For the most part, Sanji looked rather unconcerned that Zoro was bleeding again, and he supposed that was something. Then, a second later, "Thought Chopper said you shouldn't be doing anything too strenuous for at least another week or two."
Zoro decided Sanji was doing this just to be an asshole, but at least the bastard didn't have any goddamn soup with him. "Che. I didn't do anything hard," the swordsman offered, shrugging noncommittally before concentrating his gaze back out over the water.
"Looks to me like you're thinking about something. That's gotta be the cause."
Zoro turned back to him. "Fucker."
"Heh. Don't wear yourself out trying to be witty for my sake… there'll be blood everywhere," Sanji exclaimed coolly with a sort of gleeful smirk that was wide enough to be offensive but not so much that he'd drop his smoke. Zoro was tempted to punch the shithead right in his stupid smiling face.
"I hate you," he shot back instead, reflexive, everyday things he said to the stupid cook all the time.
Because it really was just another day.
"I made a cake," Sanji responded easily after a minute or two, snuffing his cigarette out after it'd gotten just beyond the halfway point. The cook thought stubs looked uncool.
"I don't like cake."
"I know. Luffy ate it all anyway."
Zoro snorted.
After a minute of silence, "I made soup too."
A scowl. "Fuck you."
The blonde snickered to himself dryly. "Maybe later, but only because it's your special day."
Zoro smirked himself. "That means every day's my special day."
Sanji just lit up another cigarette.
The swordsman mentally congratulated himself on his verbal victory. Eat that, shitty ass love chef.
Reading Zoro's expression, Sanji chuckled to himself. "Don't look too smug, sweetheart. A few minutes ago I told Chopper about your "I'm going to sneak out early in the morning because I'm so clever but make a ton of noise so someone finds out anyway" workout. He went batshit. Said something about stronger sedatives."
Zoro paled.
The blonde smiled winningly at him and leaned over, pulling the fresh cigarette out of his mouth momentarily to plant a sugar-sweet kiss on the swordsman's cheek. "Happy birthday, dumbass."
That said, Sanji stood up, dusted the seat of his pants off, and headed back towards the galley. "Soup's on after your checkup," he called lazily over his shoulder.
Zoro watched him go, grinding his teeth and wishing several kinds of painful death on the chef's head.
Yeah, he mused irately as he rubbed at his affected cheek like it was stained. Today really wasn't any different from any other day.
"Che. Just wait 'til March, you shitty love-cook."
Zoro consoled himself with that vow, let himself lean back and smile broadly the more he thought about it.
Now that was going to be a special day.
He could almost guarantee it.
"Heh."
END