Chapter 6 – I Don't Want No Scrub

Sanji

Sanji was fuming. This was possibly the longest and hardest he had ever fumed. He was positively a smokestack of fumes. And the fuming felt all the more fume-y for being executed in complete silence. He'd fumed silently while watching Zoro do his stupid little exercises on his side of the cell. He'd fumed silently while he'd shuffle-paced back and forth on his own side of the cell. He'd fumed silently when Zoro had exchanged words with his dear friend Bob. He'd fumed silently while he had all but shoved Zoro's breakfast and lunch into his stupid big mouth. He'd fumed silently all morning and now he was fuming silently well into the afternoon. He wasn't usually one for giving the silent treatment, but he was actually fuming too hard to speak. And Zoro didn't even have the common decency to look at all bothered by any of Sanji's effortful fuming.

Had it really been just that morning that he and Zoro had come all over each other from frantically dry-humping themselves awake? Had it really been just that morning that Zoro had cracked Sanji's chest open by telling him things he'd waited his whole life to hear? It felt like a whole lifetime had passed since he'd felt Zoro's eyes on him, heard Zoro call him Eyebrows. He missed Zoro calling him Eyebrows. Sanji fumed about that too.

How dare that idiot swordsman affect him so completely when it was clear Sanji had no effect on him at all. How dare that lug-head just ignore Sanji, pretend like Sanji didn't exist just like Sanji had told him to. How dare that infuriating lout not care as much as Sanji cared. Because the hell of it was, Sanji wouldn't be fuming if he didn't care, if Zoro hadn't hurt him. How dare Zoro hurt him so easily, so casually.

And how dare Sanji allow it. How dare Sanji miss Zoro's hungry eyes and his voice saying things he shouldn't say and his lips sucking at Sanji's neck and his body blissfully holding Sanji down. How dare Sanji ache every moment Zoro didn't acknowledge his presence. How dare Sanji long to feel Zoro's hands on his face and in his hair and exploring every contour of his body. If only he could surgically remove these feelings from his body. The longing was drowning him and it had only been eight hours.

Sanji watched Zoro from the corner of his eyes and silently fumed and silently begged, just look at me.

He'd reflexively taken a step towards Zoro when he heard the door to the prison unlock and quickly brought his foot back into line. Damned thing. Seemed all his limbs were rebelling these days.

Bob strode into the room, followed by the lanky dark-skinned guard that had been with Bob on that first day that felt like five years ago instead of five days ago. And the guard was carrying blankets.

Sanji's heart sunk into his stomach.

"Afternoon, fellas," Bob greeted cheerfully.

"Bit early for dinner, don't you think," Zoro drawled as his greeting.

"Actually, I've got a present for you boys!" Bob exclaimed excitedly. "A highly requested item, though not so much the last couple days now I think about it." Bob shrugged. "Anyway, Carl here has brought you some blankets!" Bob grinned, looking very proud of himself. Carl held out his armful of blankets, also looking very proud.

"What took you so long?" Sanji grumbled, ceasing his silent fuming at Zoro. He had a new target for his ire. If Sanji had had blankets from the first day, he wouldn't have ended up sleeping wrapped up in Zoro. And if he hadn't slept wrapped up in Zoro, maybe all the rest of it wouldn't have happened. And maybe if all the rest of it hadn't happened, he wouldn't currently be resenting Bob for taking away the blanket he'd already been using. Maybe he wouldn't be resenting Bob for ensuring he'd never get it back.

"Oh, so Eyebrows finally decides I'm worth speaking to!" Bob crowed. "This is a momentous occasion, Carl. Take note."

Carl nodded vigorously, taking note. Sanji ground his teeth together.

"But to answer your question, it just took some time for Carl to find them," Bob explained.

Sanji raised his eyebrows. "It took him five days to find some blankets?"

"Five days? That'd be ridiculous!" Bob laughed loudly. "No, it only took him three."

"Only?!" Sanji repeated incredulously.

"It's a big secret hideout, you see," Carl said defensively.

"And a bit of a maze," Bob added.

"And why is your secret hideout a big maze?" Sanji asked testily.

"Well, it's a secret hideout, ain't it," Bob replied easily. "Everyone knows secret hideouts have got to be big mazes."

"Yeah, for confusing the enemy and such," Carl added, nodding.

Sanji didn't even know why he'd bothered asking. That was on him.

"Experience lots of raids, do you?" Zoro asked slyly.

Sanji glared at him. He knew what Zoro was doing. Zoro knew talking to Bob made Sanji want to throw himself out the window and be dashed to pieces on the rocks below. And now there was Carl.

Bob scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Not in the ten years we've been here."

"That's why it's a secret hideout, you see," Carl explained.

Sanji pressed his lips together. He would not engage with this idiocy.

"Sounds like you've got it all figured out," Zoro complimented them, smirking. The smirk was completely lost on Bob and Carl, obviously.

"Our captain's a genius, she is. Designed this place herself," Bob beamed radiantly.

Sanji couldn't take it anymore.

"A genius who designed a hideout so labyrinthine that her own crew can't find blankets for three days?!"

"Well, Carl here doesn't quite know the lay of the land just yet, you see," Bob explained merrily. "He's only been here for two years."

Sanji just stared at him. Just stared and stared as Zoro laughed and laughed.

"He okay?" Bob asked Zoro, pointing at Sanji. "Looks like he's got a few screws loose."

That was it.

Sanji shuffled over to the window, looking up at it thoughtfully. Maybe he could fit through the bars if he went sideways and wiggled really hard.

Zoro laughed harder. Sanji stared up at the window like it was his own personal nirvana.

"What's that on your neck, Eyebrows?" Bob asked abruptly.

Sanji turned around reluctantly, confused. By moving over to the window, he had placed himself in direct sunlight, sure, but what could Bob see on his neck? Sanji rubbed at it self-consciously but couldn't feel anything.

Then he looked over at Zoro who was grinning and looking inordinately pleased with himself. Sanji scowled. Nothing good for him had ever come of Zoro's happiness.

Carl squinted at him. "It looks like…bruises."

And then Sanji knew.

He spun his head to glare at Zoro so fast he could've sworn it almost came off. And glare didn't really cut it. He felt murderous. Zoro was going through that window before Sanji was.

"You fuck!" He roared at Zoro, who only grinned wider and looked even more pleased.

"What did Pirate Hunter Zoro ever do to you?" Carl sounded outraged.

Oh, Sanji couldn't begin to count the things Pirate fucking Hunter Zoro had done to him. But it's not as though Sanji could list the most recent things Zoro had done to him to poor, clueless Carl. Sanji's only sliver of comfort throughout this entire ordeal was that no one knew the depravities to which he had been reduced.

"He…he rubbed dirt on me," Sanji lied on the fly. Not the cleverest untruth he'd ever uttered, but then he wasn't lying to the cleverest of people.

Bob frowned. "Now that doesn't sound like something Zoro would do."

"No, it doesn't, does it, Bob," Zoro replied smugly.

"You must've rubbed it on yourself," Carl agreed, nodding.

Sanji was beyond infuriated now. He had transcended all the known levels of fury and had reached a new, previously undiscovered realm of fury.

"Why, pray tell, would I do that?" He snapped.

Bob shrugged. "I dunno, you tell me. You're the one who did it."

"I didn't -" Sanji broke off with a wordless cry, pulling his hair.

"He's really lost it, hasn't he?" Bob observed to Zoro.

"I told him that two days ago," Zoro replied.

"Well, insane or not, sounds like he needs a bath," Bob said.

Sanji stopped pulling his hair and looked at Bob in disbelief. "I do not need a bath!" Okay, well he did – he hadn't bathed in five days. But he didn't want one. Why? Because, "In case it's escaped your notice, warmly clothed as you are, it's freezing! And if the bath water is anything like the glacial run-off drinking water you bring us, I don't think I could survive it!"

"A bit of cold does the mind and body good," Bob imparted sagely.

"I've been cold for five days! Do I seem well to you?" Sanji raged.

"I could do with a bath, Bob. I can handle a bit of cold," Zoro cut in, depriving Bob of whatever inanity he had been gearing up to say.

Sanji swung his murderous gaze back in Zoro's direction. "You're only saying that because I'm the one who will have to bathe you!"

"Well, that's mighty kind of you to offer, Eyebrows," Bob marvelled.

Sanji sputtered. "I didn't -"

"I'll get Carl to set that up for you boys right away," Bob said.

"I don't -"

"I'll be back in a jiff!" Carl promised optimistically.

It took him four hours.

Bob had already come and gone with the food and night had well and truly arrived by the time Carl found his way back to their cell. And he was huffing and puffing as though he'd been expending the sort of effort that would've gotten the job done in one hour. Sanji supposed at least it wasn't three days.

However, the last four hours hadn't been entirely unproductive for Sanji. In the midst of feeding Zoro, right about when Zoro had licked his lips after Sanji had shoved a piece of food into his mouth a bit too forcefully, Sanji decided bathing was actually a great idea. He'd never thought he'd be crediting Bob with a good idea, but broken clocks were right twice a day and all that.

Sanji had decided that being clean was worth running the risk of losing his fingers or other valuable extremities to frostbite. It had nothing to do with the fact that bathing Zoro would give him a perfectly valid excuse to run his hands all over Zoro's naked body.

"I'm back!" Carl called happily as he lugged a small tub of water into the room and set it on the floor outside their cell.

Sanji ceased his impatient pacing to fix Carl with a scowl. What could have possibly taken him so long? Sanji had things to do, muscles to feel…err…clean.

"Carl, not that I don't appreciate the effort, but it's nighttime. If we bathe now, we'll probably just die," Sanji pointed out reluctantly. He was very eager to be clean and for Zoro to be naked…err…clean but he wasn't insane, despite what Bob and Carl apparently thought.

"Oh!" Carl exclaimed. "No need to worry about that! I got the kitchen staff to get some hot water for you!"

Sanji put a hand on his chest, feeling touched. "Carl, I have misjudged you."

Carl beamed. "It was no trouble, really! You see, the guards outside the prison have been hearing some weird noises coming from in here the last couple days and I was concerned for Pirate Hunter Zoro's health." Carl blushed. "Uh…and yours, I guess."

Sanji did not know how – he would never know how – but he managed to keep a perfectly straight face. Zoro, not so much. Zoro, who had blithely continued his highly distracting squat exercises when Carl had first come in, starting coughing violently. Served the bastard right for making Sanji make those sorts of 'weird noises' in the first place.

"Also," Carl continued blithely, "I bought some cloths for you to clean yourselves with and some towels so you can get dry. Oh! And," he looked sheepish now, "I forgot to give you the blankets before so I brought those back too."

Really? Had he? Sanji hadn't noticed or felt at all relieved that he'd have to use Zoro for warmth for another night.

Carl ducked out the door and hastily carried in all the previously mentioned items. Sanji watched dispassionately as Carl unlocked their cell door, completely unconcerned for his safety, and carted the items in, followed by the tub of water. Sanji didn't even think to attempt an escape – he had objectives in that cell that were not conducive to escape. He glanced at Zoro, who was staring at the tub of water and certainly not looking like he was planning to execute any daring feats of strength or skill to free them.

"Thanks," Zoro said absently, still looking at the water.

"Uh…yeah," Sanji agreed absently, still looking at Zoro.

Carl might have said something, but if he did, Sanji didn't know or care. He only cared that Carl left, shutting and locking the door firmly behind him.

The room was immediately charged with the kind of electricity Sanji felt before Nami unleashed one of her mini thunderstorms.

Huh.

He hadn't thought about Nami in days. Weird. Sure, he'd thought about the crew and pondered their whereabouts and general wellbeing, but he hadn't specifically thought of Nami. He supposed he hadn't had any mental capacity left for much of anything except Zoro these past few days. What Zoro felt, what Zoro thought, what Zoro said, what Zoro did.

Zoro, who looked up at Sanji and said, "Well, hurry up then, Eyebrows."

Sanji felt the electricity surrounding them crackle with his anger. "I will take as long as I damn well please, Mosshead!"

"The water is literally getting colder as we speak," Zoro pointed out.

"And I literally do not care," Sanji retorted as he rage-shuffled towards the tub in the middle of the cell. "I'm washing myself first, while the water is nice and toasty, then – and only then – will I even consider washing you. And I will only consider it if you stop pissing me off!"

"I'll stop pissing you off when you stop pissing me off!" Zoro yelled.

"I piss you off? I haven't done anything to you!" Sanji all but ripped off his jacket. "I'm a fucking delight!

Zoro laughed sardonically. "The only delight you'll ever make me feel is if you disappear!"

Well, that just wasn't true. The marks covering Sanji's neck certainly told a different story. Sanji raised his eyebrow at Zoro, who had to good grace to blush and look away.

Idiot.

Sanji had unzipped his pants and started to push them down when he felt Zoro's eyes on him again.

"Are you going to turn around, or do you want to watch?" He taunted.

Zoro spun around so fast it was a miracle he didn't topple over. "Who'd ever want to watch you undress."

"Anyone with eyes!" Sanji angrily shoved his pants down to his ankles but got no further, impeded by his chains. He scowled at them, then at Zoro's back.

"Anyone with eyes who isn't wearing their glasses, maybe!"

"Fuck off!"

"You first!"

It was too cold to be standing there, almost completely naked, arguing with that fuckhead. So, Sanji picked up the washcloth, dipped it in the warm water, and started jerkily scrubbing at himself. He'd never had an angry bath before. It was…thorough. But while the water was blessedly warm, the air was not, so Sanji, despite his earlier words, did not take as long as he damn well pleased.

As Sanji rubbed himself dry, he couldn't remember why he'd thought this would be a good idea. Zoro had just insulted him and now Sanji had to touch him. Everywhere.

He shuddered. From the cold, obviously.

As he put his clothes back on, he was tempted to torture Zoro by refusing to wash him until the water had cooled, but despite what he often threated, he didn't actually want Zoro to die. He wouldn't have tried to take his place on Thriller Bark if he actually wanted that. He didn't know if he'd fully forgiven Zoro for not letting him. He'd have much rather been in Zoro's place than have to watch Zoro barely cling to life.

And that was why as insane as Zoro made him feel, Sanji was still going to wash him with warm water, just like he still fed him, even when he wasn't particular nice about it.

"Come over here," Sanji ordered. Zoro came and stood in front of Sanji expectantly.

Sanji tried not to be overeager as he stretched Zoro's shirt over his head and pushed it down his arms to his chains. His ignored the way his heart was starting a riot in his chest.

But he couldn't quite ignore the way his mouth went dry as he knelt down to take Zoro's shoes off. Something about this was so…intimate. This was a thing that lovers did and Zoro…Zoro was many things to Sanji, but he was not that.

Zoro, for his part, bore all this stoically, albeit with his whole body tensed.

"Relax," Sanji grumbled as he took one shoe off, then the other. "It's not like I'm going to hurt you." Frankly, he was kind of offended Zoro thought he would.

"I know," Zoro replied but he didn't relax. Sanji huffed in exasperation as he stood up and reached for Zoro's pants. He swallowed deeply - this was an unbearably familiar action by now. His hands trembled a bit as he undid Zoro's fly and he detested his hands for betraying him like this.

"I won't hurt you either, you know," Zoro said softly.

Zoro didn't know all the ways he could hurt Sanji. He'd already found a couple by accident. Sanji couldn't give him ammunition to find any more. But all he said was, "I know," and pushed Zoro's pants down. As Zoro stepped out of them, Sanji reached down into the tub for the cloth. He could feel his heart thudding a hard, wild rhythm in his throat, his chest.

He walked behind Zoro to start with his arms and back, and quickly became envious of the cloth for getting to be the thing that got to trace Zoro's muscles. Sanji's hands ached to do the same without the cloth as an impediment.

Great, now he was getting jealous of inanimate objects. What other madness would Zoro's proximity next drive him to?

Oh, here was one. Sanji slowly, gently washed one of Zoro's hands and felt an almost sickening desire to hold it. To just slip his hand into Zoro's and hold it. That was the only thing he wanted yet he wanted it with such intensity he felt a little faint. What the fuck was that about? Having sexual thoughts about Zoro while he stood there naked could be easily accounted for – Sanji may be in denial but he wasn't a complete idiot – but wanting to hold his hand? That was…that was…

That was Sanji moving on very quickly from that brewing calamity.

Oh, and here was another one. As Sanji ran the cloth over Zoro's ass, he felt a worryingly crucial need to bite it. That could not be normal behaviour. Sanji hadn't thought about biting anyone's ass before – he was a dedicated boob guy. But Zoro's ass? Very firm, very biteable. Sanji inhaled a deep breath and resolutely moved away from that particular temptation.

Except then he had to kneel down to wash Zoro's legs, which put him at just the right height to…

No, you will not bite Zoro's ass! Sanji ordered himself firmly and quickly shifted to Zoro's side so he wouldn't have temptation quite literally right in his face.

He made quick work of Zoro's legs and feet. This was taking too long as it was. He was getting all sorts of ideas being on his knees anywhere in proximity of a naked Zoro. Very bad, very dangerous ideas that were not limited to Zoro's ass.

Sanji stood up abruptly in an attempt to put those ideas firmly in his mental trashcan, and was partially successful. Except now he had new problems. Now he was looking at Zoro's face.

Zoro had his eyes squeezed shut and his lips pressed together. His whole body was still tensed and he was breathing deeply. Sanji felt his ire rise once again. If Sanji's touch was that fucking unbearable to him, he should have just fucking said so. Hearing those words from Zoro's lips probably would have drop-kicked Sanji into a pit of despair, but he also didn't want to see all this evidence of Zoro's distaste.

It's not like he didn't get it. Using Sanji to get off was just sex. This was…intimate, despite Sanji's attempts to remain as impersonal as he possibly could. Which to be fair, wasn't much, given he had all of Zoro's tan, scarred skin right before his eyes and given that his hands itched to trace every one of those scars.

For those reasons, Sanji bypassed Zoro's face. He didn't think he could pay that much close attention to Zoro's face and not do something highly inadvisable and irreversible and definitely more than just sex.

Sanji dropped his eyes to Zoro's chest and abs and the scar that bisected them. There was another example of a time he'd almost lost Zoro, before he'd really known him. But he recalled thinking that if Zoro died, the world would lose someone important. Back then he'd only been thinking of his skills as a swordsman. It had been a long time since then and much had changed.

Unthinkingly, Sanji lifted his other hand to trace the scar and only realised what he was doing when Zoro flinched.

Shit. Sanji jerked back. He hadn't meant to do that and Zoro was clearly not a fan of it. In fact, Zoro was…

Zoro was getting hard right in front of Sanji's eyes.

Sanji looked at Zoro with raised eyebrows.

Zoro blushed and looked away. "Whatever. It's just that my dick has a Pavlovian response to your hands now, okay?"

Did it now? Wasn't that interesting. So, Zoro's flinching and tensing and squeezing together of the eyes and the lips was because he'd been trying to not get a boner? Very interesting.

"Just ignore it," Zoro continued, still flustered.

Sanji was a man who was capable of many things. He could single-handedly cook for a banquet of over 100 people. He could kick a wall so hard it would break in two. He could seduce women from all corners of the world, or so he would claim. But what he absolutely couldn't do was ignore Zoro's hard cock.

Sanji's mouth tipped into a devious half-smile as he stepped right into Zoro's personal space.

"Ignore it, you said?" Sanji queried.

"Uh-huh," Zoro grunted.

"So, I should wash here," Sanji ran the wet cloth over Zoro's chest, "and here," then over Zoro's ribs, "and here," then over Zoro's hip flexors, "but not here," then Sanji ran the cloth over Zoro's cock.

"Fuck!" Zoro shouted and his eyes opened to look at Sanji in shock.

Sanji grinned as he rubbed and rubbed and Zoro moaned and moaned. "Am I ignoring it okay, Mosshead?"

Zoro gaped at him.

"Or do I need to ignore it some more?" Sanji teased as he mercilessly rubbed the cloth up and down Zoro's dick. Zoro leaned forward to bury his head in Sanji's neck. He must have a thing about Sanji's neck, too.

"Please," Zoro groaned between desperate pants.

"Please what?" Sanji coaxed, hand still moving ruthlessly.

"Please, put you hands on me," Zoro begged.

Sanji carelessly dropped the cloth to the floor and immediately pulled Zoro against him, hands on Zoro's ass and in his hair, pressing Zoro tightly against his body, pressing Zoro's mouth tightly against his neck. Sanji carded his nose and lips through that dumb mossy hair, just breathing Zoro in. Sanji was now painfully hard but, in that moment, he didn't want relief – he just wanted Zoro.

Zoro thrust his hips forward, seeking the friction Sanji had denied him, begging Sanji please in little pants that quickly became the cornerstone of Sanji's existence. Knowing he could deny Zoro nothing, Sanji relented and moved the hand that was on Zoro's ass to Zoro's cock and started stroking him as Zoro fucked into his fist.

But Zoro kept begging. As much as Sanji's whole world lit on fire when he heard Zoro begging 'please', he needed to give Zoro what he needed. Sanji gripped Zoro's hair and pulled his head back so he could look at him.

"Tell me you want," he demanded.

Zoro looked wrecked but he managed to get out, "I want to feel you. I want to feel you," and looked down at Sanji's groin where Sanji's own hard cock was straining in his pants.

As frustrating as it was to not have Zoro's hands on him, as fucking rabid as he was to have them all the fuck over him, Zoro must be just as frustrated to not be able to use his hands to get what he needed from Sanji. So, Sanji would dedicate all of his will to Zoro, to do it for him.

Sanji pushed Zoro's head back into his neck – a few more of Zoro's marks on his skin wouldn't be unwelcome – and only took his hands off of Zoro long enough to undo his pants and push them down to his ankles. Then he stripped off his jacket before pulling Zoro against him, finally, finally bare skin to bare skin.

Sanji and Zoro moaned in tandem. Zoro started sucking Sanji's neck as Sanji wrapped his hand around both his and Zoro's cocks, quickly finding a rhythm as he fucked up against Zoro's dick and into his fist.

He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. Every bit of energy in his body was devoted to Zoro – he didn't have enough left over for something as inconsequential as breathing.

They gasped and grunted and groaned as they fucked and fucked and fucked and fucked Sanji's fist. Sanji's grip spasmed in Zoro's hair – fuck, he even had a thing for Zoro's hair now.

Sanji couldn't take another second without falling apart, but he wasn't going to go alone.

"Come, Zoro. Now," he ordered and Zoro gasped Sanji's name and came and Sanji gasped Zoro's name and followed him.

Sanji buried his face in Zoro's hair as he slowly came back to himself. This was usually the point at which one of them moved away. But the seconds ticked by and they stayed, breathing into each other, breathing each other in.

Suddenly, Zoro slumped his entire weight onto Sanji, who caught him with a surprised, "Whoa!"

"Tired," Zoro murmured sleepily into Sanji's neck.

Sanji chucked. Of course he was, but what did he expect Sanji to do about it?

"Take me to bed," Zoro whined as he rubbed his face against Sanji.

Sanji's heart stuttered then started up then stuttered again. Surely Zoro didn't mean…

He cleared his throat. "We have to tidy up."

"Ugh, fine," Zoro griped like a little boy.

Sanji bit back a smile as he used one hand to reach down for the abandoned washcloth, propping up Zoro – who was seemingly determined not stand upright – with the other. Once acquired, he dipped it back in the water before wiping the cum first off Zoro's body, then his own. Then he used the same manoeuvre to pick up a towel and dry Zoro off.

Or at least he tried to.

"Come on, you have to stand up for a second so I can dry you and put your clothes back on. Not to mention mine," Sanji cajoled.

"Don't need clothes."

"We do need clothes. Do you want to get a frostbitten dick?"

Zoro grunted his dissent.

"That's what I thought, now come on." But Zoro just kept flopping back into him when Sanji tried to stand him up.

But instead of being annoyed, Sanji felt like the sun had migrated from the sky into his chest and lit up every corner of him. Zoro never willingly relied on anyone. He never willingly showed weakness to anyone. And he certainly never willingly leaned on anyone. But he was leaning on Sanji now, needing him. Allowing himself to need him. On the surface it was a small thing, letting Sanji hold him and tidy him up. But for Zoro…

Sanji grinned and spontaneously hugged Zoro tightly. He just…needed to hold him. Zoro murmured a 'hmmmm' but it seemed like a contented 'hmmmm' so Sanji held on for just a bit longer.

Until his dick really was in danger of frostbite, so he walked Zoro back to the wall and leaned him on it.

"Stay," he ordered. Zoro nodded drowsily.

Sanji dressed himself and then attempted to do the same for Zoro but he was uncooperative at best. After much swearing and smiling, Sanji finally succeeded. But then his internal sun dimmed as he realised that it was over now – Sanji had his own blanket, and so did Zoro.

He reluctantly trudged over to the blankets to pick them up and then trudged back to Zoro. "Here," he held out Zoro's blanket to him.

Zoro, regaining a bit of life, looked at him like he had a second head. "What's that?"

"Your blanket."

"That's not my blanket."

Really? "This is your blanket," Sanji said firmly and then held up his own, "and this is my blanket."

"No," Zoro replied as if talking to a two-year-old. "Those are our blankets, so just put one on the floor and lay down on it already so I can get on top of you. Idiot."

Sanji's sun was back in full force. He felt so bright he was surprised he hadn't become a new source of light in the dim cell. He smiled and smiled as he spread a blanket down and laid on top of it.

"What are you grinning about?" Zoro mumbled suspiciously.

Sanji bit his bottom lip but still couldn't suppress it. "Nothing."

"A likely story," Zoro grumbled.

"Just get on top of me, Mosshead."

"Finally," Zoro griped before he got to his knees and fell on top of Sanji.

"Ooft!" Sanji breath wheezed out as Zoro's weight toppled on top of him. "Nice one, idiot!"

"Deal with it," came Zoro's unsympathetic reply as he snuggled into Sanji and buried his face in Sanji's neck. Zoro seemed to really like it there, maybe almost as much as Sanji liked Zoro being there. It felt like his spot now.

Sanji grinned some more as he spread the other blanket on top of them and tucked it into their sides. Now they were a burrito of warmth and comfort.

Zoro sighed, "'Night, Eyebrows."

His internal sun was about to burn him up from the inside out if it kept getting any brighter.

"Goodnight, Mosshead."

Usually, Sanji wished for good dreams as he fell asleep, but tonight? Tonight, he didn't think any dreams could be better than reality.