Chapter Text
Zoro is at his wit's end.
It's been close to half an hour, and he's wandering in the dark alleyways of this random ass town trying to get back to the ship. In addition to that, He's carrying a very drunk and very annoying Sanji on his back.
"Marimooo," he drawls, swaying to the side. "Where the fuck are we?"
"Stop fucking moving or I'm gonna drop you, cook."
The position they're in is precarious as it is, Sanji's legs wrapped around Zoro's waist the only thing really keeping them both upright.
The cook's hands come from where they're draped over Zoro's shoulders to poke at his face. "You don't even know where we're going, do you?`"
"Like you know either," Zoro grumbles.
"Yeah, but you're mostly sober," the cook slurs.
...Fair enough.
Sanji yawns, the action driving his chin harder into the top of Zoro's head. "You're talking too long, hurry up so we can get to the Sunny."
"Maybe if you stopped fidgeting, I could actually walk straight and we would get there faster." Zoro grunts, hoisting the lanky man higher up on his waist.
"Fuck you, I'll walk myself back to the ship then." Zoro thinks Sanji attempts to get off his back, but the cook slumps back down almost immediately after raising only his head. "No, no no. that's not happening. Christ, how much did I drink? Marimo, I'm gonna die from alcohol poisoning-"
Zoro lets Sanji lament about his booze-tinted doom, mainly because he's still trying to figure out where the fuck they are but also because the blond idiot does this every time they go out drinking. He gets piss drunk off of what, two shots? and Zoro has to haul his uncoordinated, mouthy ass all the way back to the Sunny. Bonus points if he stops to spew his guts in an alleyway. Sanji stops talking after a few minutes, but the silence doesn't last for long.
"Did I tell you. We're going... uh... grocery shoppi-"
"Yes. Yes, you did, Curly. Six goddamn times."
"Okay, don't be a dick about it!" He feels the cook's spindly fingers sluggishly tug at his hair, pulling his head sideways and making them more unsteady than they already are.
"Stop. Moving," Zoro hisses as he stumbles. "You're fucking heavy."
Sanji giggles from behind him, and Zoro can feel the vibrations across his back as the blond speaks. "Oh, 'm sorry, you directionally challenged wad of grass. Maybe if you went the right way you wouldn't have to carry me any longer." "Shut up! It's too dark, everything looks the same."
"No, you're just fuckin'... what's the word? oh, incompetent. I bet you don't even know what incompetent means."
"I know what incompetent means."
"God, I'm so dizzy," Sanji groans.
"Stop complaining!"
They bicker back and forth, Sanji spewing insults in his ear while Zoro barks at him to shut up and wonders how many times they've passed that street lamp on the corner. Sometime during that, Sanji's head makes it into the crook of the other man's neck, and every time the cook speaks his lips brush over Zoro's shoulder. His hands have also taken up permanent residence in Zoro's hair, combing through the short strands as he complains endlessly. Zoro can't say he minds.
"Ah, we're lost," Sanji whines in his ear. "Completely, irre....irrevocably lost. Marimo, the ship was ten minutes from the barrrr."
"We're almost there, you impatient prick." They are not, in fact, almost there. Zoro trudges past what he feels like is the same house he saw fifteen minutes ago.
"Good... because m'gonna pass out."
"What?" The cook doesn't speak, and his fingers go slack on top of Zoro's head. "No, cook - damn it, wake up." Nothing but Sanji's soft breaths sound as a response.
Zoro looks around, surrounded by rows of dark houses and no boat in sight.
He heaves a long-suffering sigh. "God fucking dammit."