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Roronoa Zoro hates needles. He’s not sure why, but something about them always bothers him, raises the hairs on the back of his neck. The sterile scent of wipes that are used to clean off bacteria, the sharp, pointing object protruding into his skin-
It all makes him want to vomit.
He doesn’t say anything, he never does. Roronoa Zoro doesn’t get scared.
But he’s finally started taking Testosterone and neither Perona or Chopper are able to do it for him.
He’s sitting alone in the men’s cabin, needle in his hand. It’s shaking. Chopper is out in the town that the Strawhats are docked at, gathering supplies with Luffy, Nami, and the others. Sanji’s the only other person on the ship, but there’s no way in hell Zoro is going to that bastard for help.
“Tiny sword,” he whispers to himself, struggling to unscrew the cap of liquid testosterone. “Tiny sword, tiny sword, tiny sword, tiny swor-”
“What the fuck are you going on about?!”
Zoro drops the bottle. It’s glass. Instead of breaking on impact with the wooden floor, it rolls down to the entryway of the room, right to where Sanji’s standing. Though it’s the middle of the afternoon, Sanji’s wearing a pair of bright pink boxer briefs with hearts adorned on them and a long sleeve shirt covering his chest.
Zoro isn’t any better, really. He’s wearing briefs as well- black - with only a black tank top covering his scarred chest.
“Uh, nothing.”
Sanji picks up the bottle of testosterone. “You are clearly doing something,” the blonde says. He waves the bottle in Zoro’s face, almost taunting him with it.
“Can you give that back?”
A mischievous grin arises on the blonde’s face. “What’s the magic word, marimo chan~”
Honestly, a part of Zoro wants Sanji to take the bottle away and hide it so the swordsman doesn’t have to stab his stomach with that horrendous needle. A big part of him.
“Dartbrow.”
“You’re touchy today. That’s not the word, try again?”
“I’m really not in the mood for this, Sanji.”
“That’s my name.”
“I know.”
“You’re not getting this back until you tell me the magic word.”
Zoro really isn’t in the mood for this. Maybe if he keeps fucking around he can wait until Chopper’s back and say Sanji got him disttracted and he forgot.
“Don’t give it to me, then.”
Sanji blinks. His expression changes, only slightly. His eyebrows raise for a moment, then go back to their original position. As if he’s just read the swordsman’s mind.
“Oh.”
“What?”
Oh no.
“I see,” Sanji smirks, tossing the bottle up and down in his hand. “I see what’s going on with our precious little swordsman marimo .”
“Quit it.”
“Quit what?” The smile somehow gets bigger.
“What you’re doing.”
“I couldn’t ever know what you mean.”
“Oh my god, Sanji, please, quit it.”
“Fine, fine,” Sanji sighs. He saunters over, gently placing the bottle in Zoro’s calloused hands. “You said the word anyway. Now what I’m curious about, is why the fuck a master swordsman is scared of needles.”
“Am not,” Zoro huffs, avoiding the blonde’s gaze.
“Are too.”
“Am not!”
“Fine, fine. I don’t really care either way, although now I have extremely useful blackmail.”
Zoro raises an eyebrow. “You aren’t like…Usopp or Nami wearing Sanji’s skin, right?”
“What the fuck? No, shitty bastard, I’m not. I just enjoy your suffering.”
“I hate you.”
“I hate you too. Now would you please stand up?”
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to help you take your shot.”
Zoro stands, slightly startled. Sanji is the last person he’d expect to help him.
Sanji is kind, yes.
But Sanji is not kind to Zoro.
And Zoro likes it that way.
But now the blonde is doing one of those things he does on occasion, one that causes the swordsman’s heart to flutter, just a little.
Like when Sanji would wake up in the morning, always the first, and would plant a soft kiss on his forehead, thinking the swordsman was still asleep.
But things like that are rare.
Sanji sits down where Zoro was sitting, getting a clean needle to attach to the syringe. He grabs a hair tie from his wrist and ties back his bangs, revealing asymmetrical swirly eyebrows.
“Nice brows, cook.”
“Do you want me to do your shot or not?”
“Sorry.”
And to be honest, Zoro thinks it’s really cute when Sanji wears his hair up. He likes being able to see both of the cook’s eyes, a soft, cloudy blue reflecting all the light that comes towards it. The strands of golden locks that don’t quite make it up, falling to the sides of his face.
Zoro’s never said that, of course, and he never will.
But he thinks it.
A lot.
Sanji extracts the liquified hormones from the container and into the syringe. Zoro looks away, his face heating up, but he’s not quite sure if it’s from his fear of the needle or from the feeling he gets from looking at Sanji.
“Hey, relax hun,” the blonde says, melting Zoro on the spot, “y’know I won’t hurt you.”
Zoro knows.
Of course he knows.
“It’s the needle not you, dumbass…”
Maybe it’s a lie, but that’s okay. Zoro’s a pirate. Pirates lie all the time.
“Just look at me, idiot. Don’t look at the needle.”
Zoro obliges for once, focusing on the different hues of blue in Sanji’s eyes. He lifts up his tank top, exposing his bare stomach. Sanji wipes it with disinfectant before pinching tan skin.
“C’mere,” his eyebrows furrow in concentration.
It pricks his skin, and Zoro can feel the needle’s injection. But it’s not bad. Not as bad as it usually is. Somehow, it hurts a little less when Sanji’s around.
Before it can bleed, Sanji quickly places a bandaid over where he pricked Zoro’s skin, caressing it softly with gentle hands.
“Done!” he smiles, looking up at Zoro once more. “Wasn’t so bad, was it mosshead?”
Zoro lets his tank top fall, and looks away. Part of him feels like a teenager not being able to look their crush in the eyes.
“Shut up.”
“Didn’t even feel it, did you?”
“No…”
Sanji pulls Zoro into his lap, wrapping his arms around the swordsman.
“Curly…”
“Yeah?”
Zoro finally meets Sanji’s gaze again. “Can you do my shot from now on?”
Sanji’s eyes sparkle and his lips tug into a sweet smile that’s just for Zoro. “Of course marimo!!”
Sanji leans in and pecks Zoro’s cheek.
Everything is okay.
“But really…did you call that needle a tiny sword ??”