“What the fuck are you doing here?” He hissed-whisper. The blond could feel he was slowly getting paranoid with the man now right in front of him.
Crouched behind the high stacks of wine barrels, cold sweats began forming on his forehead for fear they could get busted anytime. It was never an issue if he was sitting or even crouching like he was doing right now alone. But it was a major issue if he was seen with the man in front of him, mirroring the same pose.
Zoro grinned like the night was shone with direct sunlight instead of through the moon. Sanji was blinded every time. His heart was shaken, every time too. He stopped questioning the strange feelings creeping slowly inside his chest long ago, but it didn’t mean it will go unnoticed.
The tan man still maintaining the smile. “Meeting you, shit cook.” Honest answer— with his usual topping of insult. Zoro’s thick, sexy baritone voice sounded like liquid gold. Audible form of what he thought as heaven.
“The fuck, you marimo! You know—“
A hand clasped his mouth. The calloused skin felt warm. It’s something he missed, but hell if he’s ever going to tell this neanderthal.
Zoro motioned a forefinger to his lips as to tell him that his volume was not suitable for their situation. Too high. Sanji rolled his perfect cerulean eyes.
It was a dark night. It was quiet. It was just like the night they first met. On one particular night when Zoro sneaked out of the castle, away from his stifling life, and lost his way back, covered it up by saying that he was exploring the town.
Sanji would snort whenever he was reminded of that night.
“I know, I know. Father’s gonna be hella mad if he knows.”
His father, King Dracule Mihawk to be exact, was a stern man. A man stood by discipline and rules. A man that would never going against iron-clad traditions.
Using the hand he clasped Sanji earlier, the tan male grabbed the broad but slender shoulders. He pulled Sanji close earning a surprised yelp.
Zoro quickly nuzzled into Sanji’s neck. Inhaling the distinct musk of the male. A scent that only a stupid but handsome curly brow like Sanji have. Zoro smiled contently, a smile that he unconsciously wore whenever he was full and satisfied by great sake after some exceptional swords fights or trainings in the evenings. A smile reserved to be used for when his heart felt light, felt swollen.
Just like this time. Just being with Sanji managed to make him felt like that.
Sanji’s face turned crimson upon the intimate contact. It’s not often the marimo will initiate cute gestures like this. Well, it will never be often as Zoro’s time was always spent inside the castle.
A place that depicted a thick line separating their worlds. Their different path in life. Two paths that was only parallel but never it will overlapped on each other. Because the path Sanji’s life in will always be a lot more behind than the Prince’s.
A path and life where he could only gaze at the guy he loved from behind, amongst other people. From inside the crowd.
“You’re being awfully quiet today, dart brow.” Sanji was snapped from what he was thinking of. Zoro’s always sharp. He should have never been surprised by this.
“It— It’s nothing.”
He could feel the steely eyes on him. Sanji refused to look at him. He knew Zoro didn’t believe him but he felt grateful that the tan male didn’t push further.
Another hand slide on top of Sanji’s abdomen, resting on the other side of his waist.
“Oi, don’t tell me you’re going to sleep here.”
“Mhmmm… Shut up. You’re comfortable.” Zoro’s answer almost sounded slurry.
The fuck this Marimo getting sleepy so fast!
Sanji gently tugged at the green-head’s earrings. Finally looking down at the big-baby moss clinging to him. “Don’t you dare fall asleep here. Go back to the castle if you want to sleep!”
“Only if you follow me inside…"
“There’s no way—"
Finally Zoro peeked an eye open, looking at each other. Sanji was silenced by the serious look reflected inside that steely black iris.
“No, Zoro.” I can’t. Was what he wanted to add. But those two mere words couldn’t come out. He was afraid.
“Fuck, please?”
“No, Marimo. You and me will get in trouble if the guards find out. Worst case scenario, The King. I don’t want to be stared down and burnt into ashes.”
The hands that Sanji subconsciously used to stroke the soft green hair stopped when Zoro held one of it and slowly brought it hovering on his lips.
Eyes were still on Sanji’s, a gaze that Sanji couldn’t decipher the meanings behind it.
Zoro finally kissed the hand, eyes closing. Savouring the soft skin on his lips.
He had missed this. He had missed Sanji.
Sanji almost cried. He didn’t understand. He didn’t know why but he almost did. His nose stung a lot. A pain that felt like he just fell down on a gravel road.
Clasping before intertwining Sanji’s hand with his, the marimo silently grinned, again.
Sanji realised the pain was really because of a fall. That one fall he couldn’t help but take to be in love with this damn marimo.
Usopp sighed again. His knees shaking, anticipation rose. He couldn’t tell if it was excitement or worries that bubbled till his oesophagus. Seeing Zoro who was always the most collected among their crew pacing back and forth in front of him didn’t help his nerves when he knew that one of his nakama was inside the infirmary, fighting for something that might cost his life. Actually, yes. It was life-threathening.
His hands were cold and he guessed Zoro’s would be a lot more colder right now. All they could do right now was wait.
“Swordsman-san. Please calm down.” Robin tried.
But the pacing continued. He didn’t even flinch or stop.
Nope, Zoro obviously didn’t hear it the second time either.
She’s worried. Everyone was worried. And she could understand very well that Zoro have every right to bear a lot more worries right now than any of them, but it was getting stifling and frustrating seeing the green-haired man making a circle in front of the door again and again.
The whole crew felt the tension that even Nami stayed silent and bit her plush lips, Franky sitting quietly with a bottle of now warm cola between his thighs, left untouched. Brook tapping his cane—sword on the grass, emitting a muffled thud sound that went unnoticed by them all. A cup of tea left cold.
Luffy, well… He’s still him. He offered to watch the ship and was sitting on his special seat. Worries or excitement concealed from his crew sometimes curious eyes, thanks to his straw hat.
“Zoro…” Chopper's voice snapped all of their heads towards the door. And Zoro’s head never turned around towards a direction that fast before.
Only the doctor’s head in his Heavy point that was visible. His face was still covered with a mask, face unreadable by all of the crew.
“Chopper! How’s the cook?!” Was the first thing the whole crew that was sitting outside with Zoro heard. Almost two hours passed and that was the first. Zoro’s voice came out frantic even though the man tried to stay calm. As calm as he could when he knew his Sanji was in there battling for his live and their— battling for his live for almost 2 hours.
Chopper didn’t give an answer, he only opened the door a little bit wider for Zoro to enter and closed it after. Nami, Usopp, Brook and Franky didn’t realise the breath they were holding and only managed to breathe out a little bit with ease when Chopper calmly invited Zoro inside. Robin smiled, finally opened the book that was left abandoned in her hands since two hours ago.
Calm Chopper meant everything was under control. If it was not the case, the reindeer would already drown himself in tears if something bad were to happen to their nakama. And no one, hoped that to ever happened.
The room was mildly lit. Chopper told him that it was for Sanji. Sanji needed a lot of rest and sleep. He told what Zoro can and cannot do before he smiled and ushered Zoro to go to his man while he washed and sterilised his appliances.
Zoro took almost tentative steps. His cook was there. On the bed. From afar and from this badly lit room, Zoro could discern that the blond was pale—paler than normal. When he reached closer, he could see just how visibly exhausted Sanji looked.
His pale skin becomes even paler, luscious lips were now chapped, his usual carefully styled hair were tousled and matted to his sweaty forehead. A blanket enveloped Sanji’s whole body except his head and shoulders.
His face may didn’t show it but Zoro was glad. He was glad that his shit cook was safe. He was sleeping, resting. Even breathings of the cook filled his hearings and he was finally convinced that his man was okay.
He felt so much love for the man sleeping soundly in front of him. He always does, since a long time ago, but today, right now, right at that moment, it sky-rocketed even more.
He couldn’t help it. It felt like it was going to burst so Zoro gently put his left hand on Sanji’s sweat glistened forehead. Pushing the hair away from the skin and he carefully leaned down. Placing a kiss on it.
“I love you, Sanji…” He mumbled. Lips meeting skin as he did.
Of course, Sanji didn’t hear him. That’s exactly why Zoro did it. He smiled to himself and was caressing the blonde hair when a small sound caught in his hearings.
That’s right! How could he forgot! The sole reason of why Zoro was so frantic and Sanji sound asleep, exhausted—worn out, right now was behind him. Zoro made his short way to the makeshift small bed— bassinet.
He didn’t complain seeing that because no one expected this situation to happen today. Not until next two weeks. But predictions can always be wrong, so they have to settle with a last minute makeshift bed for now and Franky announced that he will build a better and safer one later with Usopp when the situations were getting better.
Zoro was getting excited and nervous as his steps closed himself with the little life in the bassinet. There, when he finally arrived, was a little bundle, wrapped in a white cloth, hair still wet. Chopper must have cleaned him. No trace of blood.
Just a clean and pure little life still with red skin, which he guessed, it will eventually turns pale like his shit cook, skin so thin that Zoro could still see the little veins through them. This little human would need a lot more growing to gain more flesh. He knew Sanji would do just that. Zoro smiled affectionately upon thinking about that.
The little bundle have his puffy eyes closed and chubby cheeks looking so soft. Zoro couldn’t believe it. This little boy already has chubby cheeks.
His boy.
He felt as if his throat suddenly closed and a choked sound between almost crying and laughing at the bubbly and rising feelings inside mixed as one. This was definitely his son, alright. He didn’t need to think when the boy was sporting green hairs and a little curl on each of his eyebrows right after he's out of his father’s belly. This little boy was really his and Sanji’s.
Zoro made a move to pick him up. He noticed his fingers shaking. Stomach growling in nervousness. But he did it anyway. This was his son. He and Sanji are now fathers. He couldn’t just back out now and wait for another time to hold their son. He was prepared for this day to come.
A soft and small sound came out from those little lips as the little boy felt like he was shifted away from the comfort of the soft material into his father’s warmth. Zoro settled the little joy very carefully in his arms and the baby’s eyes opened for a bit, meeting his father’s one.
Deep ocean blue eyes meeting Zoro’s steely one—whose eye dilated a bit at their meet—for a few seconds before the infant closed it again. Still not used to the lights around him and going back into his slumber. Zoro was speechless.
Those eyes… Those beautiful irises that met his was definitely Sanji’s.
It really hit him hard that they really have a son now. It was not the two of them anymore. It will be the three of them starting today and instead of just being only a couple, he and Sanji are now a family. There will be a pair of small feet trailing behind them, calling them 'dad' or 'father' with after this.
They’ve built a family together.
After years of knowing each other, after bickering day and night at every little stupid things, after so much pushing and giving, developing and catching feelings, being a couple, a lover for each other, Zoro realised that he and Sanji finally entered the highest stage in a relationship. The stage that they never thought would come this fast, at the age of 22 but they’ve managed. They always do.
Zoro never doubted Sanji and he knew since forever that Sanji too, never doubted him. They always work everything together, in their own ways.
Looking at his—their—son, Zoro couldn’t help the wide proud and relief smile that made its way on his face, gracing his perfect lips. He remembered Sanji used to say, "I swear if he comes out having the same green hairs as yours, I have another moss in my care.” So, Zoro knew what to call their baby for now.
“Hey, little moss.” Zoro greeted his little son for the first time. His baritone voice came out so soft.
As if on cue, the boy squirms a little, head slowly turning, facing his father’s sturdy chest, mouth opening and closing before he stopped and went back into slumber, little slender fingers—that’s definitely something the little boy got from his blonde father—lightly clenched and relaxed.
Zoro never knew talking to your son for the first time—even though it was obvious that the infant still couldn’t understand a thing— could bring this much surge of a joy in him. The feeling was massive and he couldn’t describe it. He only hoped Sanji could feel it too when he gave his first greet to their baby later when he wakes up.
“Zoro?” As if on cue, a hoarse voice due to lack of water that Zoro knew by heart came from his behind. Zoro turned towards his love and smiled so wide that Sanji who was still laying on the bed just looked at him for a few seconds before he returned it with an exhausted but happy one. Zoro went to him with their baby in arms.
“Cook…” Zoro planted a chaste kiss on both of Sanji’s cheek and the man let him, tired eyes closing in the process but heart skipping nonetheless. Zoro sat on the bed beside Sanji as the man carefully moved himself into a sitting position. Hissing a little as he did, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Zoro let him do what he wanted and waited.
Sanji settled himself by leaning on Zoro’s shoulder, slowly breathing to ease the post-surgery pain. His hands twitching for a lighted smoke between his fingers but he know he couldn’t with his little son here. He didn’t want to poison that little bundle, worse right on his first day living in this world. He could stop smoking for months, he could wait for a bit longer.
Sanji was banned from smoking for nine month and when that usually—of course— could make him complain almost 24/7, he didn’t when Zoro decided not to drink too during the period when Sanji was bearing their child. Zoro was willing to compromise for him and their child, so Sanji will too.
He didn’t say it, but Sanji was very grateful for Zoro. That marimo may be a neanderthal sometimes, but he’s hella considerate and could think of lots of great ways for them to compromise a lot of things when he tried.
“I knew it he’ll get your marimo head. Poor lil’ boy.” Sanji snorted softly, looking at the baby that he bore for nine month with fondness. Zoro grinned.
“A proof that my genes are stronger than yours.” Zoro said, proud. Sanji didn’t reply. He hummed and remained looking at their son. Zoro shifted a little to give his cook more view of the little boy.
Sanji was silent for a long time, looking at their son, almost five minutes passed and Zoro was getting worried. “Cook?” Is he okay? Is the sedative still in effect?
As if he was snapped from a daydream, Sanji’s eyes moved from their baby to Zoro’s eye.
“You ‘kay?”
“Ye—yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just…” Sanji went silent again. The marimo’s eyebrows raised.
Zoro lightly nudged Sanji’s cheek with his straight nose. Coaxing him to finish the sentence. “Just?”
Sanji met his eyes again. Finally a smile gracing his luscious lips that Zoro love so much. “I’m glad. For everything that happened between us.” He buried his face in Zoro’s neck. “Thank you, stupid marimo.” Warm breath meeting the skin there.
“Idiot, that’s my line.” Zoro chuckled.
“I don’t want to fucking admit this, but it’s hard.” Sanji started again, as he lifted his face from his love’s broad shoulders. Zoro noticed the changes in Sanji’s tone and met his eyes. Paying attention more than he did before—if that was even possible.
“It’s hard... Nothing’s easy since I knew that I was knocked up, since last nine month, but Zoro…” The blonde’s right hand reached his right arm and gently squeezing it there. “I want you to know that you being there with me, made it all much better.”
That came out from Sanji’s lips with voice so soft, so unusual. Undoubtedly dripping with gratefulness from his side and Zoro knew that his ears didn’t deceive him.
Zoro was at lost of words. He couldn’t even reply to what Sanji just poured on him. Mouth closing and opening but nothing he deemed good enough. His mind flashed back to those nine months of struggle and truth to be told, he felt like crying. But he can’t with Sanji just about to get better beside him and his newborn baby in his arms.
He settled to look at Sanji’s deep eyes. So cerulean , so soulful, never fail to allure him in. That moment he knew Sanji didn’t need a reply anyway. He just wanted to express, to tell, to let him know, not wanting something from Zoro back.
Tell me how to not fucking love this man. His chest tightened.
The atmosphere between them felt so light. It’s been so long since they felt this. It ended when Sanji’s pregnancy news hit them both. They—and the whole crew— were so shocked over the peculiar situation but accepted it when they all cooled down after founded some informations about it. Chopper and Robin explained it as a very rare but it is an occurrence that do happen in the Grand Line and New World since it was discovered over hundred years ago.
Then, Sanji couldn’t control himself from getting carried away in the emotional roller coaster as his hormones played with him and both have to sacrificed something they like— smoking, drinking, sparring together— for almost nine months and man, those were definitely not an easy thing to do.
There was one time, during Sanji’s third trimester, his bump was so big and Chopper banned him from doing anything that exerts his energy all together, even cooking. Many times Zoro accidentally woke up in the middle of the night, seeing his love who was supposed to sleep peacefully in his arms, silently crying in his sleep.
The man couldn’t imagine just how hard it was to be in Sanji’s place, to sacrifice lots of parts of his daily life and things he love so much like the blonde did, appeared like nothing was wrong in the morning in front of the crew and unconsciously cried during the nights when everyone’s eyes were closed. He would always reach those wet cheeks and wiped the tears away. The beautiful irises of Sanji, hidden from Zoro’s view behind those droopy eyelids but if he gets to see them, he knew it will be deep dark blue, not his usual glimmer ocean colour.
“Everything will get better, cook.” He will whisper to the sleeping man almost every night. In hope, the blonde will get through another day that awaits him without any problem arise until he was free again.
Every time Zoro saw that face, he couldn’t help but fall for the curlicue all over again. Just seeing how strong the man enduring something—for both of them— that was not supposed to happen to his body, something his body was not made for, Zoro who was being by side, his sacrifice —drinking sake is his life alright!— didn’t feel like much of a help. But he knew, Sanji would kick his head when the baby’s out if he ever told him that.
He’s glad…. Having Sanji by his side. Sanji giving him the best present he could ever asked or hoped for. Zoro knew that he’s truly blessed.
And even much more blessed now.
Zoro looked down to the man that went back to resting his blonde head on his shoulder and kissed Sanji’s forehead. He heard Sanji released a light breath. Enjoying the contact.
Chopper came in and told them that the crew outside wanted to see the new addition to their ship. Zoro and Sanji laughed, giving Chopper permission to let them enter.
Chopper went back to the door. Zoro turned to look at Sanji, a grin plastered on his usual stoic face.
“Those guys outside were so worried about you.” He was too, but he didn’t need to say it, right? “It’s gonna be a chaos when they come in. You ready to face 'em, cook?” Those eyebrows quirked twice, almost as if a challenge to Sanji, seeing he just went under a two-hours surgery and now to face full-wave of chaos that was their own crew mates’ antics.
“Is that a challenge, marimo?” He knew he was grinning too. They heard loud shouts in glee and excited murmurs as Chopper opened the door to the infirmary. He barely registered that Chopper scolded them to tone it down as there was a baby sleeping inside. His focus was still solely on the green-head.
Zoro’s eyes answered him—well actually the grin gave it away.
Things will get a lot more better. Zoro thought as he mirrored the action of his love.
When Nami, Usopp, Franky, Robin and Brook entered, the room that used to be so serene minutes ago became chaotic. Questions thrown here and there, from Chopper then to Sanji and to Zoro. Loud cooing sounds from the guys and Nami hardly containing her squeals at the cute sight of the couple with the baby in the middle. Robin smiled knowingly, she always pictured the couple would look so perfect like this.
Even with the whole mess of a crew surrounding him, the little moss slept peacefully. As if there was never noises to begin with. They all acknowledged that that was a trait one can only master with Zoro’s genes running in your veins.
Luffy entered the infirmary and everyone thought and predicted that he’ll jump straight away to the baby in Zoro’s arms and asked if he can poop now that he’s living out of Sanji’s stomach or maybe talk excitedly right by the baby’s ears, asking if he wants to play when he wakes up.
But no, Luffy came in with a smile plastered on his face, a solid smile, not his usual excited high-on-meat-grin.
“I know Sanji would make it.” He started. He walked to the little family and took a look at the little joy.
“Zoro, Sanji and little sun makes a very cute little family.” And he laughed his trademark laugh.
The first time Kidd opened his eyes, after it felt like a very, very long nap—and, ouch his head felt like splitting, a massive headache pounding inside, Kidd hastily closed it back again.
The light illuminating from the back of his eyelids when he closed his eyes only made the headache—what it felt like someone keep bashing his head from the inside with a very, very hard rock, felt worse. So, Kidd internally cursed.
His mind was particularly alerting him, his senses too, where the fuck was he right now? It didn’t smell like his cabin back in his ship, his only sanctuary in the sea. Kidd felt his mind slowly shutting off, probably fatigue, he knew he needed to get up and get a grasp of his surroundings. He could be in a cell for all he knows—but something about the comfortable material under his sturdy build told him otherwise, but still—. Suddenly, few sounds of metal clinked not far beside him, he guessed, but then slowly it faded. It felt those sounds were getting far away. He subconsciously wanted to open his eyes and look for the source of the sound, but his mind was slowly blocking everything around him. He knew he couldn't fight this.
Ah, if he was in an enemy's hold right now, he thought, I'm so fucking dead, as his consciousness slipped away.
The next time Kidd fluttered his eyes opened, he was blinking in the darkness, it took him awhile to realise that he was awake again. He almost thought it was a dream, as his view was greeted with soft orange illuminated ceiling. Serene. And a far lulling sound as if there's water surrounding him could be heard thanks to the very silent atmosphere he just woke up in. He's in a ship, he concluded. The metal ceiling he was staring at, the sound of the sea and the dead silent—probably late night, gave it away.
Kidd didn't dare to see his surrounding yet. Mind raking on the back of his head, searching for the last time he was conscious. He remembered drinking in a tavern with his crew, he remembered fighting with some dipshit who pissed him off, he remembered his mind gave him a warning that things were going out of control, he remembered feeling so much pain...
Now that he remembered about pain, he could feel—realised, that his body was wrapped in bandages, even his arm, the real arm. Ah, fuck what happened, seriously. His fingers clenched and opened. The soft material under his bandaged palm indicated him that he was lying on a matress. As if on cue, his mind registered the smell of antiseptic and medicine. Was he badly injured?
Kidd didn’t get a chance to recall more informations from his rusty mind at the moment when a movement was felt—heard— beside him and he finally turned his head to the side to see what it was. Oh, his heart, his consciousness, his instinct, his anything internally said.
Not too far from him, there sat a beautiful man—he always thought that way about that man, Kidd could easily recognise the long slender legs hugged perfectly by the trademark spotted jeans and the spotted white hat sitting on the table beside the man.
"Trafalgar?" His voice managed to croak out a pitiful coherent sound that sounded like the tan male's name.
The man was sitting on a chair, head was just lifted from between his arms, probably his make-shift pillow. Their eyes met and the room was a bit too dark for Kidd's liking as he couldn't decipher what Trafalgar was up too behind those steely grey eyes—but alluring indeed.
"Eustass-ya." His smooth voice sounded so good. His soft and low voice was the first thing Kidd got to hear right when he woke up— after who knows how long he went unconscious, and Kidd liked it. Really, really liked it. Trafalgar stood up from the chair and made his way to the side of the bed Kidd was tucked in. He sat on the floor, their eyes never leaving each other even for a split second.
Kidd was glad he was in Trafalgar's submarine—he concluded, now that he keep seeing metal walls and ceilings all over the place, the pieces of informations just fell into place by itself— and this must meant the man saved his ass. Thankfully, this was the first time—his pride managed to scream somewhere inside his wake.
Well, they never got the chance to meet each other that much in the first place, and to plan their route to meet somewhere, in random islands were not that easy, as both of them have their own ambitions, dreams or even mission to be accomplished.
"I assume you want to know what happened, Eustass-ya. But I suggest you drink some water first." Trafalgar flashed him a smile, more like a grin actually, and not his usual sickly or cocky grin that Kidd usually see.
Kidd nodded and he made a move to sit. Pain was undeniably shooting down his spine, made him gasp a little because he really didn’t expected that, and another rapidly magnifying sting from the side of his abdomen told him that he must got some pretty nasty injuries under the tight bandages.
Trafalgar let Kidd to sit himself, he didn't make a move to help him. Kidd was thankful for that really. The pain and the fact that he was unconscious was enough to make him feel like he was still not strong enough. Him merely trying to sit and Trafalgar didn't make a move to help really, really saved his pride from anymore emotional cut.
Trafalgar reached for a glass of water, putting the saucer that closed the mouth of the glass earlier onto the nightstand and gave it to Kidd. Kidd silently but thankfully accepted it. His throat felt so dry and scratchy for him to do anything other than took it from Trafalgar's hold and downed the water in a few gulps. Not even feeling like pissing the older male off, like he always does.
It felt so good to have water running through his oesophagus. It felt like he was replenished after being stranded in the desert for who knows how long. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gave the glass back to the tan male, who took it and put it back on its initial place. "Thanks."
Trafalgar turned back to look at Kidd, the man didn't say anything. Kidd was left to stare at Trafalgar's eyes, he was searching. The red-head was actually confused as to why Trafalgar didn't say anything, especially when the man got a perfect opportunity to torment him at how weak he was—oh man, Kidd knew he must have lost the fight or something— Kidd's nose visibly cringed when he thought that. Fuck, now he could feel his mood were plunging downhill.
Trafalgar chuckled. Kidd's nonexistent eyebrows quirked because it sounded more like a relief breathed out through that chuckle instead of just, a chuckle. But Kidd knew he was not the brightest human, Trafalgar could mean anything behind those beautiful sounded chuckles and laughs or even snickers and there was even much bigger possibilities that Kidd could interpreted it wrong.
"Your face tells me that you think you've lost, but rest assured, you’ve won." Kidd eyes visibly widened at that. Okay it was not the first time Trafalgar talked as if he knew what was circulating inside Kidd's head but the red head always find it weird and attractive at the same time, if not creepy.
"I won?" He asked, which still sounded like a pity croak but better. Trafalgar nodded. A smile adorning his handsome facial features still.
Suddenly, a wash of feelings came pouring down on on Kidd and the younger man realised just how long he didn't get to see Trafalgar before today, before right now, it must have been like six months since they last met and get to be this close, this comfortable proximity—though Kidd didn't mind a lot more closer. But that's not the point right now, and his hands just instinctively moved to reach Trafalgar's face, itching to feel the tan male's skin under his palm even though it was bandaged.
He almost tentatively rested his palm on the man's left cheek, Trafalgar let him, didn't indicate any signs that he didn't like the—rare— intimate gesture from Kidd and Kidd's thumb softly caressed the soft tan skin. He realised now that his eyes adjusted to the dark surroundings, he could see the contrast of their skins, his ghostly pale ones and Trafalgar's bronze complexion. It looked too good in his opinion, their contrast that is, Kidd always secretly love it but he never said it out loud. Hell, Trafalgar could laugh his lungs out if he knew just how sappy his thoughts sometimes.
His lips parted to say something. There was a lump in his throat, threathening to jump out of his mouth. "Trafalgar, I—" I miss you, but no. That was not something he usually said when they meet. That was not Trafalgar's thing to say too.
Usually their bodies and hands and mouth, everything did the job to convey those unsaid words folded under their tongues. Usually actions helped them to tell the other what they felt, not words. Never outright verbally. That's why Kidd stopped himself before his lips released the words he was supposed not to say out loud. Suddenly, he was afraid—not that he will ever acknowledge it— that if he crossed the thin line they made since the very first day they were together, Law will back away.
The red head didn't expect for Trafalgar to raise a hand, his left hand and rested it on Kidd's own. Keeping the hand there on his cheek. Trafalgar's eyes fluttered closed for a moment, Kidd could feel his jaw clenched under his palm before the tan male opened his eyes again. Steely grey irises met his golden ones again.
"Eustass-ya. I wonder when will I get the chance to see you, well, not in bandages at least." Trafalgar snickered, Kidd felt the tan male's face muscles moved under his touched. "You're always covered with this thing," Trafalgar's fore finger on his hand tapped on his bandaged knuckles, "whenever I see you. It's not amusing anymore after a long while." Kidd snorted at Trafalgar's choice of words, rolling his eyes while doing that. But a smile was there on his face, nonetheless. Trafalgar smiled back.
His heart picked up its pace and he just felt so content at that time, it was a feeling he didn't get to feel for almost as long as he had last seen the man in front of him.
He knew Trafalgar didn't mean it as to say that he was weak or not strong enough by having injuries or deep wounds every so often. It was just, sometimes there were a more stronger people out there and that didn't mean the less stronger people were weak. There was unfairness and there was recklessness. Kidd knew he belonged in the latter. He knew he was one of the strongest people among other stronger people—his bounty gave it away and his Devil's fruit power was another contribution— and then his recklessness, added with his ever-raging temper was something that could bring him to this downfall. That, maybe what Trafalgar meant. Besides, he had heard Killer nagging at him because of his uncontrolled rage and temper too often to not catch the same sentiment coming from other people too.
He was 23 damn it, he really needed to control his rage and temper and do something about his inability to stop himself from jumping or resorting into violence whenever people tried to pick a fight with him. Kidd made a mental note to himself. He really needed to change. Even if slowly.
"It's rare to see you showing your concern over me, Trafalgar. I must have almost hit the death bed if I get to see you like this.” A lopsided grin plastered on his face. Trafalgar didn't seem amused.
"I'm being serious here, brute," Trafalgar slapped the hand he was holding close on his cheek earlier away.
Kidd knew Trafalgar was serious but a laugh threatening to bubble inside his throat that he let out a chuckle. "And no, you're still a bit far away from hitting your own death bed, but only because you're a stubborn pig. Consider yourself lucky, young man." At that Kidd really laughed. His inside hurt when he did but he just couldn't care. It was clear as day that Trafalgar was being worried about him and the man just didn't want to admit it. Well, not that Kidd himself will do any different if he was in Trafalgar's place.
Trafalgar was basically telling him that he was worried. This... was nice.
When Kidd noticed that the strain on Trafalgar's face slowly fading, he asked : "Lay in the bed with me?" It was a hinted sentence—and a bit like of a demand for, 'It has been a fucking long time since we last lay down and do just nothing together so get the fuck in' kind of meaning, and Kidd didn't need to worry if Trafalgar understood it or not as the man only did as much as rolled his eyes and made a move to slide into the bed. Kidd hurriedly scooting closer to the cold metal wall, ignoring the stinging pain as he moved his injured body—almost excitedly— too fast.
Trafalgar settled by his side and closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of being beside the man he was infatuated with—no actually it could already been called as 'love' but Trafalgar still refuse to outright use it, and took a deep breath of something he could call as Kidd's musk.
Kidd's hand slide up his back and rested on the back of Trafalgar's head, silently pulling the tan male's head to rest on his shoulder. The man complied and rested his head just there. This was where Trafalgar's head rests whenever they were in the same bed anyway. It was silently established since years back. This position gave Kidd the opportunity to tilted his head and bury his nose in Trafalgar's dark, nightly coloured hair.
Inhaling deep letting his body to enjoy the scent that he missed so much for the past six months. His fingers delicately moving between the short strands, absentmindedly playing with it. Kidd felt Trafalgar was getting relaxed as he played with the man's hair, he knew just how much Trafalgar loved the silent ministrations judging from his muscles that was usually tensed went lax.
It also told Kidd that after years needed for them to really be comfortable with each other's presence without a bit of suspicions, the tan male now trusted him enough to let himself just relax and enjoy the feelings bubbling between them. Kidd was glad, because he felt the same. The only other thing they had in common was that they never outright mentioned it.
But that was okay too. That's just how they work things out . Kidd was never good with words anyway and Trafalgar couldn't talk a few words without making it seems—or purposely— like he was being sarcastic or tormenting or mocking the other. So thankfully, their actions showed it all and they both understand it.
"Where are you bringing me anyway?" Kidd asked. Just to fill the silence. He just woke up, of course he didn't want Trafalgar to sleep yet. The man claimed that he has insomnia but Kidd never saw the man awake more than five minutes in bed—except when things were getting steamy but that's another case, basically the tan male was fast asleep whenever they were together. Even when they didn't do anything that required a lot of physical energy before.
"Just to an island, pretty sure a spring island," Trafalgar's hand moved to rest on Kidd's chest, tracing circle on the bandaged chest, "we'll meet your crew there." The tan male's voice already sounded heavy with sleep.
"How much longer?"
"Hm? Oh, probably two days."
Kidd nodded a bit. Careful not to bump his chin with Trafalgar's head. Two days, huh? It seemed enough. He really wanted to talk more with Trafalgar. Besides, they finally met after six months, even though Kidd didn’t know under what circumstances they were together right now and not on their separate ships and on their separate ways. Kidd didn't like the sound of 'coincidence' because sometimes it didn't feel convincing but he thought this time, maybe it was.
He also had so many things to asked. What happened, how... Everything. But then, the even breathings, warm beside his neck told him that he wouldn’t get the chance until morning comes. Kidd stared at the sleeping man in his arms, unblinking.
The man looked so serene, so beautiful by doing nothing, just sleeping and lips parted a bit. Serene indeed but on the other hand, interupting a sleeping Trafalgar was something that one could call wrath, if they dare to wake him. So, Kidd settled on inhaling the scent of his lover once again before fluttered his eyes close.
He thought he couldn’t go back to sleep any time soon but it was proven otherwise when the warm body of Trafalgar latching on him made him easier to drift into the other world again. Feeling comfortable having the man for him to hug to—even with just one arm. Mind growing unconscious as he felt consciousness slipped away. Black surrounding his closed eyes.
Questions could wait then, sleep comes first. He thought last, hand clutching tight on Trafalgar's arm.
