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Overstepped limits

Summary:

“Sanji punched you”, Usopp said, eyes wide open and the first person to break the silence that had filled the ship, “He punched you with his hand.”

Notes:

Sanji and Zoro are friends before anything
They are the two girls in the class who are always laughing and whispering to each other
I know, I was one of those two girls
No I will not take criticism

okay so let me present to you Zoro and his issues, because you cannot tell me that man isn’t afraid of messing up relationships and losing people
also sanji has a panic attack in this one, so trigger warning

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Zoro’s nose might be broken. It was bleeding, that was for sure if the metallic smell in his nostrils and the taste between his lips were any indication. This wasn’t the problem though. He didn’t even register the pain or his injury, still being too shocked about what had happened.

“Sanji punched you”, Usopp said, eyes wide open and the first person to break the silence that had filled the ship, “He punched you with his hand.”
Now, this wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary for any person who didn’t know Sanji, but for anybody else this was something near world-ending. Something that didn’t happen because of molecular reasons. Reasons that were ancient and unbreakable. Even Franky, their newest companion, seemed to grasp the intensity of the situation,

Sanji never used his hands for violence. The ocean was blue. Luffy loved meat. Those were some things that just were and no one dared question them.
But here they were on the deck of the Sunny, all standing still and watching as Zoro's nose bled, liquid dripping on the ground and painting the grass beneath him red.

Zoro stared at the door of the galley which the cook had slammed shut not too long ago. He stared at it in hope it would open and present a Sanji with an explanation. But the door stayed closed, whispered curses and strained breathing hiding behind it.

“I’ll check on him”, Usopp said, running towards the galley. He knocked gently before entering, giving the person inside a little warning.

“What did you do?”
Nami was furious, her finger stabbing his chest multiple times to show just how angry she was.
“Nothing!”, he replied, trying to defend himself, “We were just fighting like always.”
She crossed her arms, “Okay, what did you say?”
“I don’t know.” He scrunched his eyebrows together, a sign that he was trying to remember the reason why they were fighting to begin with.

“Something about his stupid behaviour”, he closed his eyes, ignoring the throbbing in his nose as he recalled their fight.
“And maybe also something about his mother”, he added quietly, feeling the claws of guilt clutch the pit of his stomach.

“There you have it”, Nami said exasperated.
“It might’ve been inappropriate to talk badly about his mother”, Robin agreed.
“I was just saying stuff”, he uttered, throwing his arms in the air to highlight his point.
“You know Sanji doesn’t talk about his mother.”
“I don’t talk about my mother, that doesn’t mean I’d punch him in the face!”
“I think what Nami is trying to say, he actively avoids talking about her. He must have some issues with the subject.”

There had been a night shortly after Arlong Park, where the five of them sat around a little fire on the Merry’s small deck and they had told each other about their families. A way of comforting Nami who had left her, finally freed, island. She had talked about her mother and how she had sacrificed herself for her and her sister. She had talked about her love for her and how she could never repay her or even thank her for what she did.

Usopp then told them about his sick mother who had been tied to a bed, a bed that would be the place where she’d spent her last moments. Usopp had shared stories about her, admiration decorating his voice, not one trace of lies audible.

Luffy had smiled around a piece of meat, grinning as he spoke about angry mountain bandits and a woman who worked in a bar. She had taught him how to behave like a mature human being and brought him clothes so his growing body wouldn’t have to live in clothes too small.

Zoro had listened to them, a warm feeling spreading in his chest. He hadn’t grown up with a mother figure, instead living most of his childhood in a dojo with a sensei and children his age, but hearing his friends, his nakama, share a part of their life with him that so obviously contained so many beautiful memories, made him feel content.

The atmosphere had been light, the cook however was stiff. Tense in a way that did not suit the situation.
“How about you, Sanji, any fun stories about your mum?”
His gaze was kept on the ground, his blond hair hiding most of his face.

“I don’t… remember much”, he stuttered, his voice trembling slightly. He was lying and it was clear for all of them.
They hadn’t said anything though and ignored the darker atmosphere that had settled temporarily.

The cook stood up and vanished into the galley, but returned shortly after with more food to grill on the fire and two more bottles of booze. Zoro hadn’t thought of the instance again. And the cook was too new for him to care about it too much back then.

He held his nose between his fingers and huffed at the memory.
“He’ll come around. He always does.”
He shrugged it off and let Chopper look at his, now confirmed, broken nose.

Chopper worked in silence, something he didn’t do very often, rather talking to the patients to keep their attention on him and not on what he was doing.

“You know if you had said something about Doctorine or Doctor Hiriluk, I would’ve punched you too.”
Their little nakama had stopped working for a second, his hands covered in ointment reserved for his injury.
“You should apologize.”

Zoro laughed weakly, only a little breath forcing itself out of his mouth.
“Me and the cook don’t do the whole apologizing stuff. If we always did that, we would be apologizing non-stop.”
Chopper frowned but didn’t say anything more.

Their little doctor didn’t need to understand. Sanji and him always fought, this wasn’t any different. They would be fine.

~

Sanji was not his usual self. He was still prissy and stupid towards the two women on the ship, dancing around them like the stupid love cook that he was. He still fought Luffy every time the rubber boy entered the kitchen, but still fed him afterwards. He still played with Chopper even though he had too much to do, sparring their crew-mate a moment in his busy schedule. He still helped Usopp with his numerous inventions even if they sometimes exploded in his kitchen and left a mess behind.

His shoulders were tense though. His steps were not as fluid as usual, the elegance of his walk suffering from it. He had a deep eye bag resting under his visible eye, very likely a result from his restless nights. He heard him shift in his sleep, his breathing uneven and face glistening from the sweat droplets on his skin.

Zoro wanted to help him, but he didn’t think the cook would appreciate it. Especially after their little dispute.

He had tried fighting him once. Trying to convince the others and himself that everything was fine and that the cook was just in a bad mood.
He hadn’t even reacted to his provocation, instead shaking his head and leaving him behind in the middle of the ship. A dark feeling had spread in his body, making his heart ache and his chest feel tight.

Sanji avoided him. He didn’t talk to him. The only words targeted to him being food related or if he had dirty laundry that needed washing. Sanji didn’t fight him anymore, starving the swordsman’s body of his usual exercise and leaving him jittery and on edge.

And Zoro was suffering. He had realized before that Sanji had become an integral part of his life, but not like this. He missed him even though they were only meters apart. He wanted to joke around with him, talk about the people they had fought and how they could improve their skill. He wanted to listen to Sanji talk about the fish in the aquarium and the recipes of the food he was serving. He wanted to hear Sanji laugh when he had made a particularly funny comment.

But all of this didn’t matter if Sanji didn’t want it. He couldn’t force him to spend time with him. Sanji was his friend, one of his closest, but he had gone and ruined it.

“You’re stupid, Zoro.”
Luffy fell beside him on the deck, sitting with his legs crossed, his straw hat covering his eyes from the midday sun.
“I’m not in the mood.”
Luffy ignored him and kept talking.
“You like Sanji, why don’t you just tell him that?”
“I don’t think he wants anything from me right now.”
His fingers gripped the blades of the grass, ripped them off the ground and created a little pile next to his swords.

“I think Sanji is hurt and wants you to comfort him.”
Zoro felt his captain’s intense stare on him, but couldn’t bring himself to look back, suddenly feeling very small.
“I hurt Sanji”, the confession finally leaving his mouth and making it so much more real, “He’s avoiding me like the plague. He doesn’t want comfort from me. I tried.”

Luffy shook his head.
“You tried fighting him. You tried ignoring his pain.”
Zoro closed his eyes. Did he really do that? Not acknowledge his friend’s state?
“He probably hates me now”, he muttered as he watched the grass pile next to him grow in size.
They sat in silence for a few seconds, before Zoro groaned in frustration, “How am I so bad at this?”
“You can’t be good at this. You can’t be good or bad at nakamaship. You just have to care and show people that you care, the rest will work out.”
Luffy let himself fall with his back on the ground, eyes still fixed on the swordsman, “And you care Zoro, you just need to show it.”

That put a small smile on Zoro’s face. Luffy’s simple view of the world was a refreshing change to the tangled worries that had nested in his head. And maybe it really was that simple.
“Thanks captain.”
Luffy beamed at him and patted him on the back.

They stayed on the deck for the rest of the afternoon, not saying much and enjoying each other’s company. Luffy had dozed off at some point, but immediately woke up as Sanji called them for dinner.

Dinner was loud, like it always was with the strawhats. It was hard keeping order with a captain like Luffy. Zoro kept stealing glances at Sanji. He looked a bit pale and the still full plate worried Zoro. The cook who worshiped food like no other, not eating? Zoro frowned.

He stayed in the kitchen after everyone left, earning him a small thumbs up from Nami and Usopp. He watched the cook collect the dishes and put them in the sink. He stood up, taking the washing cloth on the way and positioned himself in front of the sink. They worked in silence. No banter, no name calling, no joking around.

“I’m sorry.”
His voice was strained, his fingers itching to touch the hilt of his white katana. Instead they gripped on the cloth, scrunching it hard.
Sanji turned his head towards him.
“I didn’t want to hurt you. You know that right? I didn’t know that insult would get to you. I’ll never say anything even similar ever again, just please talk to me.”
“You didn’t know. It's fine.”

“It’s obviously not fine. Tell me that you’re not fine.”
Sanji let go of the plate he was washing, his head tilted downwards.
“I’m not mad at you. Not anymore.”
“Well, something is up and I promised myself I would talk to you. So here I am.”
Sanji remained quiet.

“I haven’t seen her in Baratie”, Zoro began, trying to break the tension.
“She’s not from there. My mother isn’t from the East Blue.”
His hands started shaking slightly and Zoro took them in his, hoping it was the right thing to do.
“She was born in the North Blue”, Sanji continued after a while, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I don’t…like thinking about that part of my life, but she was part of that life. I can’t just pretend they don’t exist. My family is real and she was real and I loved her very much, but thinking about it always opens this door in my brain which is so hard to close-”
Sanji looked up to him, his eyes full of tears that were threatening to fall down.
“Am I a bad son? For not thinking about her? For not loving her every moment of my life? For pretending she didn’t exist because it hurts too much?”

Zoro didn’t know what to do but he felt an intense want to brush the tears off his face. His finger brushed his skin lightly and Sanji moved into the touch.
“I didn’t know your mother, but I don’t think she could ever think of you as a bad son.”
The head between his hands shook in disagreement.
“Look at me, cook.”
He started shaking his head more violently, his hair brushing Zoro’s hand in the process.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry”, he repeated in a violent chant, his eyes closed shut.

“Sanji, breathe”, he wiped Sanji’s tears away and held his face more securely. He forced him into an embrace and started drawing circles on his back. Zoro’s thoughts ran wild, but he tried to focus solely on the cook. A few minutes passed until the wheezing had stopped and Sanji stood in his arms more calmly.

“Sorry you had to see that, marimo.”
He didn’t move, rather staying in the embrace and enjoying it to the fullest.
He brushed through the blond hair, “Don’t apologize for that.”

He coughed, “So, uhm, Robin was right, you have some issues with the subject.”
Sanji snorted, “You have no idea.”
“If you ever want to talk about it, I could help you, curly”, he whispered.
Sanji lifted his head, a small smile plastered on his face, “I’ll think about it. Thanks mosshead.”

With his hands still on Sanji's body he added, “Just don’t avoid me again.”
He chuckled.
“Did ya miss me annoying you?”
“I didn’t think it was possible, but yeah.”
A blush spread on the cook’s face.
“You can’t just say stuff like this”, he sputtered.

Zoro grinned, his face centimeters away from Sanji’s nose.
“You really know how to throw a punch, swirls. Anyone ever tell you that?.”
Sanji chuckled.
“So, are we okay?”, he asked, just to make sure and to ease the worries in his head.
“Of course dumbass.”
Zoro looked into the blue eye in front of him, taking all of it in, making up for the time he didn’t.

“Are you planning on letting me go or-?”
“Don’t really want to.”
Sanji’s face got even redder.
“Okay”, he breathed out, the word more air than sound.

He would hold him till his body stopped craving the feeling of Sanji’s skin on his.
The tower of uncleaned dishes could wait.

Notes:

Me: I don’t want to write this
The “am I a bad son”-passage holding a gun to my head: oh yes you will, you stupid bitch

also writing Luffy is so hard