So I've been getting a few requests for a Sanji sick/injured kind of fic, and here it finally is! I'm actually considering doing a continuation of this...
Only half listening to the long tale Usopp was spinning next to him at the table, Zoro watched the cook, who was happily placing another basket of warm bread rolls on the table. As the man pivoted, his slender hips swaying so lightly, there it was again.
That little hiccup in his movements, a slight hitch in his step, barely noticeable.
Zoro's hand found his temple, working his fingers to try to relieve the pressure building there, his other hand fending off his plate mercilessly from his captain's wandering fingers. That idiot love cook was doing it again.
He waited patiently, the chaos and noise of dinner eventually fading as crew members left the room one by one. Outside, the sun had just finished fading, a dark purple dusk sky enveloped the evening.
Wordlessly he stood, finding a place next to Sanji at the kitchen sink. After dropping his dish into the bubble filled water, he bumped Sanji harshly with his hip to scoot the other man away.
"Oi, what the fuck marimo!" Sanji growled, a sudsy plate still in his wet hands, raising his left leg menacingly. Zoro tensed but didn't move, hoping he didn't walk away from this with a large bruise on his shin.
"Knock it off cook." He grumbled, putting his hands in the warm water and searching for a dish to clean.
"What… Are you doing exactly?" Sanji asked carefully, the dangerous edge still there, leg ready to snap out.
"Go sit over there and be quiet. I'll do the dishes tonight."
"What?" Sanji finally put his leg down, much to Zoro's relief.
"Just go sit down."
Sanji hesitated, his uncertainty drawn on his face comically, like he was afraid to turn his back and walk away after the strange kindness being offered. After giving a last glare, the blond shuffled over to the table, leaning back in a chair and pulling out a cigarette.
Zoro smirked to himself over the little victory and went to work on the dishes. After a small wet pile of four dishes had accumulated, Sanji finally spoke up.
"Why exactly are you helping me?" It sounded more like an accusation than a question. Out of the corner of his eye Zoro could see Sanji watching him, that visible blue eye narrowed in suspicion.
"What, is it so weird that I simply wanted to help you out from the goodness in my heart?"
"Yes." Sanji replied without missing a beat.
"Your back's been bothering you today."
"So what if it has?" Sanji's response slower this time, cautious like he was afraid he was walking into a trap.
Zoro pretended he couldn't hear the irritated man, continuing to wash the dishes silently.
"Hey don't you ignore me shit head. You think I can't take care of myself? Fuck off." Sanji snapped, taking an angry inhale of smoke before standing.
"Did I say that?" Zoro asked calmly, not looking at the blond.
"What?"
"Fuck cook do you always have to be so difficult?" That shut the other man up, silently fuming and unsure how to continue. After placing the last clean dish on the counter, Zoro hastily dried his hands on his pants and approached the wary blond.
"So, are you going to see Chopper about it?"
The cook's attention was suddenly piqued by something on the wooden floor, hands in pockets, offering a shrug.
"It's not really that bad, no need to get the kid worked up."
Zoro straddled the empty chair next to the man, looking at him expectantly.
"It's from that old injury back at Drum Island, right? Like, your lower back?"
"Uh…. Yeah?"
Zoro made an open gesture expectantly, showing the palms of his hands. He sighed deeply when the blond didn't move.
"Just… Come here…" He bit out awkwardly. All he got was a blank stare in return. "I'll try and… Fix your back or whatever… Since you're too stupid to go see Chopper!"
"I am not!"
"Oh well then I'll just go get him!"
"Oi don't do that!"
"Then come here!" Zoro shouted crossly, caught in an angry stare down with the cook. Sanji took a quick drag from his cigarette, seeming to mull something over in his head, then his shoulders drooped and he indignantly dragged himself closer.
Reluctantly, Zoro placed his hands on the small of Sanji's back, using his thumb to gently find the man's spine before softly rubbing the digits along the side.
"Do you even know what you're doing?" Sanji huffed, a small trail of smoke leaving his mouth.
"More or less. Take off your jacket." He ordered, slightly surprised when Sanji complied without much complaint. Once again, his hands returned to the blond's back. As his fingers messaged and dug into muscle, trying to find the source of the problem, the cook spoke up.
"Why are you doing this?" He said softly.
"Well you needed it to be taken care of one way or another."
"Yeah… But why you?" Zoro's hands stilled, but then went back to his ministrations.
"I don't know cook, you talk too much." He huffed. His thumb prodded a spot on Sanji's lower back and the cook made a muffled cry. "Found it. I think you popped a disk or something… This is pretty bad cook, you should have gone to Chopper."
"Would you quit it with Chopper already? I said I didn't want to. Besides I feel fine."
"For fucks sake love cook would you quit it? This obviously hurts so drop it. Now stand up."
"Why do you care so much?"
"I just do."
Sanji stood with an impatient look on his face. "Yeah, well this is weird."
Zoro shrugged nonchalantly. He knew it was weird, he didn't really have a reason to be helping the other man. Zoro just felt like it was something he needed to do.
He reached out, grabbing Sanji by the arm to pull him in closer. The smaller man bristled and pushed away immediately.
"Hey hey hey what do you think you're doing bastard?!" Sanji panicked. Zoro rolled his eyes.
"Knock it off, I'm gonna try and pop your back if you'd just hold still."
Hesitantly the cook calmed down, slowly lowering his defenses. Zoro drew him in closer, putting them chest to chest while he wrapped his arms around the lithe blond was completely tensed, Zoro could feel the man's racing heart beat against his own.
"Uh, exhale…"
Sanji let out a nervous breath and Zoro constricted his arms, squeezing their two bodies together. Sanji's back popped loudly, leading the cook to moan breathily in Zoro's ear.
"Ah! Holy fucking shit!"
Zoro did not like the immediate flush that covered his face, the way that noise bounced around in his gut.
Zoro gently set the man down, releasing him anxiously.
"Better?" He asked slowly. The blond gave a curt nod, clearing his throat uneasily.
"Yeah… Uh, thanks." His long fingers played with his almost spent cigarette. "I guess I owe you."
All Zoro could do was nod quickly before turning to leave. This was beyond weird. It was super weird.
Why had he even helped in the first place? Why did he care?
Part of him didn't want to know the answer from the way with stomach did this awful fluttery thing when he kept replaying the 'thanks' in his head. Yeah, this was bad.