a song to bring you home
one piece
word count: 4k
written for the its pirates server sake exchange ! my giftee was @portgas-d-aroace who wanted "anything asl" and gave me an excuse to write the most self indulgent fic of 2023
“Again?” Sabo whispers, trying to sound mad. Whether he sounds that way or not doesn’t actually matter, since he’s already lifting his blanket in silent invitation.
“Sorry, ‘Bo,” Luffy mumbles thickly. He wastes no time crawling onto Sabo’s thin mattress, and Sabo pulls the blanket back down around them both, tucking it tight to keep the chill away.
Luffy attaches himself to Sabo’s side like a barnacle, tiny fists curled in his brother’s shirt as if he’s afraid something is going to swoop down and try to wrench them apart. Sabo huffs out a breath that fogs in the air and lets him.
“Nightmare?” he asks after a moment. He keeps his voice quiet in case Ace is still asleep, even though his twin is the lightest sleeper on the planet.
Luffy nods once, face buried against Sabo’s shoulder. He’s not trembling, but the way he’s holding himself completely still and silent is its own red flag.
It’s easy to forget that Luffy is not actually as spoiled as he acts. He whines and cries and pouts like any other privileged little master, he’s bossy and clingy and demands to go where his brothers go even though they all know he won’t be able to keep up, and sometimes—oftentimes—it grates on Sabo’s very last nerve.
But holding someone like Stelly up to someone like Luffy is like holding an orange up to the sun. There’s literally no comparison.
If Ace were actually as annoyed by Luffy as he pretends to be, then he wouldn’t be the first one to roll his eyes and throw up his hands and stomp back to collect their youngest when he falls behind. If Sabo actually meant all the mean things he says when they have to waste precious daylight dealing with a stupid scrape on Luffy’s stupid knee, then he wouldn’t suggest the pilgrimage down to Makino’s bar because she has those colorful bandages that always make Luffy smile.
Luffy is as much an orphan as Ace is—as Sabo pretends to be—and he was so desperate not to be alone that he was willing to die for their reluctant, backhanded friendship. He would run after them until his arms and legs gave out, and then at that point he would probably crawl, just so they don’t leave him behind.
Stubborn, selfish, stupid Luffy. The unwanted little kid that Ace and Sabo have begun to shape all their days around.
Something in Sabo’s chest hurts to know that Luffy is afraid. He tips his head and adjusts his arms so that the smaller boy is tucked more securely under his chin. Stars pinwheel slowly across the sky, winter constellations that Sabo will teach his brothers how to find once they manage to get their hands on a halfway decent telescope. There are clouds forming to the east, low and gray, that promise snow.
“Sing,” Luffy mumbles petulantly.
“You’re such a brat,” Sabo complains. But he doesn’t make Luffy go away, and it’s only another moment before he starts humming.
Sabo doesn’t know a lot of music, having successfully dodged his piano tutor for the last two years straight, but there’s a song he overheard on the docks a few months ago that stuck. Some sailors were singing it while they worked. Sabo didn’t catch all the words, so he made up the rest.
He made the mistake of singing it within his little brother’s earshot only once, but once was enough. Now he may as well be a performing monkey, because for every birthday and campfire and boring afternoon and bad dream, Luffy requests the same thing.
“Now you've got the chance to travel oceans,” Sabo half-says, half-sings, letting it settle somewhere between a story and a lullaby. “I hope the world’s as wide as you were hoping…”
Luffy sighs, a slow, satisfied thing. The fear-frozen shape of him softens with every word. He’s asleep again within one verse. Sabo sings two more, just in case.
