The dangers of late-night baking [PG-13; Luffy/Sanji]
Title: The dangers of late-night baking
By: worblehat
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Luffy/Sanji
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Luffy interrupts a drinking contest between Sanji and Zoro. Sanji makes him cookies.
Notes: Stolen idea from an RP. Best to ignore it.
Word Count: 1,617
Sanji didn't bother to turn around as he handed Luffy the bowl, concentrating his efforts on the oven in front of him instead. The timer was a little strange - from the indent on the bottom, it was most likely that someone had kicked it for fun, or just dropped it - and he had to watch it to make sure nothing overcooked; not just for the sake of the food, but for his honour as a chef.
"Mmmmm," he could hear behind him, accompanied by long, slow slurps. It was a sound bordering between disgusting and...something else. Sanji stood up, pulling a cigarette from his small packet and lighting it, exhaling right into the marimo's face. He grinned at the resulting insults, noting with somewhat tipsy delight that he was definitely not as badly off as Zoro, and was slowly building up a tolerance he was pretty sure no one would be able to beat soon. Except Nami~ but that was okay.
He rested his head back against one of the walls of the ship, breathing in. He might not be as drunk, but he was still having trouble focusing. Turning, he looked at Luffy, eyes widening a little. Between the appreciative, almost orgasmic hums of his captain, he caught glimpses of the warm tongue snaking hungrily along the rim of the bowl. It was...well, there was no other word for it but obscene.
Something about the way Luffy ate didn't sit comfortably with Sanji, which is why he tried to avoid watching whenever possible. Usually, Zoro provided enough distraction - even Chopper was a welcome change of pace. But now it was dark and chances were that no one else was awake-
Slowly, he let his gaze rest on Luffy's cheek, where a small spot of cookie batter rested, almost as if had been plastered on intentionally. His eyes traveled lower, focusing on the lewd mouth that consumed and all but lavished itself on the remains of dough, dark eyes shining above.
"Oi," said Sanji, snatching the bowl away. "You shouldn't eat like that."
"I wasn't done!" complained Luffy, visible miffed. He made an insistent attempt at the bowl, one hand reaching directly as the other snaked around and around Sanji's waist, hoping to acquire it that way.
"Here," said Sanji, handing him the spatula he'd used to smooth out one particularly uncooperative cookie.
Luffy's body retracted immediately, contented noises issuing from it once more.
As he worked on cleaning the now-empty bowl, Sanji fervently prayed for morning, a sea storm - anything that would drive Luffy from the kitchen so he could do what he was on the ship to do without thinking things he'd filed away in his brain under Never Think About This Again.
Finally, his nerves beginning to work overtime, he turned around again and shot a glare as he placed the bowl back in its place. "Are you almost done with th-"
"Huh?" asked Luffy, a confused look on his face at the question, his confusion deepening into laughter as he caught site of Sanji's open jaw. "I'm supervising," he said helpfully, taking another lick.
Meanwhile, the cook was pretty sure he was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. If he'd known that turning around would mean watching a lewd display of tongue against a long tube of plastic, he would have either feigned sleep or stabbed his eyes out beforehand to avoid the involuntary reaction from his body.
It wasn't that Luffy looked awkward doing this - it was that it actually looked natural somehow; and that in and of itself was highly disturbing. Barring the few talks they'd had about it, Sanji tended to keep the ideas "sex" and "Luffy" very, very far apart. He liked women, fercrissake! There was no reason that he should find something as simple as a slow, deliberate lick, accompanied with dark, intense eyes to be anything but easily neglected! No reason for him to stare as he was doing, nor to lick his lips - when had they gone dry?! - nor even to slowly step forward, grasping the handle of the spatula without taking it, his fingers folding over Luffy's slightly smaller ones.
"My spatula," said Luffy on the verge of pouting. "You said-"
Sanji ignored him, leaning forward and briefly removing his cigarette from his mouth before licking a spot Luffy had missed on the spatula. He kept his eyes level with the ones staring back at him, pretending the constant hum of whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck wasn't filling the dominant part of his brain in that moment. When he pulled back, his hands rested easily in his pockets, cigarette already back in his mouth.
"You...licked my spatula," said Luffy. Sanji smirked; it soon faded as he watched Luffy look at the spatula, then at him; the the spatula, then him; then the ceiling, then him, then the spatula, then-
"Get out of my kitchen," said Sanji, turning around. He'd sunk into this way too fast. There isn't even anything to sink into! he argued with himself. Luffy won't understand why you're making sure you don't face him, so that he doesn't see-
"Do you need a shower?" asked Luffy, head cocked slightly to one side, a faint grin showing in his features.
"Do I still smell?" A worried expression masked Sanji's face as he privately thanked whatever deity had saw fit to disrupt the potentially-awkward conversation with remarks about his hygiene; false though they were. The last thing he wanted to explain to Luffy is how two men did it. Leave that to Nami-san instead, he decided.
"You always smell," said Luffy cheerily. "How come you're turned around like that?"
"No reason," answered Sanji, eyes rooted to the baking cookies.
He flinched when he heard soft footsteps moving closer and tensed; looking down when Luffy squatted, still licking his spatula as his eyes looked on with wonder at the slowly-rising bits of dough. He glanced up at Sanji, who was having an extremely difficult time trying not to calculate the distance between his groin and Luffy's head.
Luffy, however, didn't seem perturbed by the distance and decreased it, placing his head against one of Sanji's lengthly legs, a glazed, happy look on his face.
Sanji began to sweat. Moreso than before.
"Don't fall asleep on me," he warned.
Luffy murmured something unintelligible. His head lolled slightly.
Sighing, Sanji lowered himself to the floor, squatting next to Luffy and making sure his head didn't hit anything. "Oi," he grunted, poking at Luffy's cheek. He swore as Luffy turned, mouth opening; only the very tip of his tongue pressing accidentally against the end of Sanji's index finger. "Are you doing that on purpose?" he asked, irritated.
As if in answer, Luffy swallowed, drawing the finger further into his mouth. The sensation shot to the one spot Sanji was having difficulty controlling and he gasped.
"Mmph- Sanji?" Luffy turned sleepy eyes towards him. "Are the cookies ready?"
"Almost." Sanji slowly turned his head, looking at the future Pirate King who was resting half-asleep against him. He noticed that same spot of dough from before was still stuck mercilessly against the tan skin. Resting two fingers on Luffy's chin, he inclined his head, lips attaching themselves to his cheek as his tongue swiped out to remove the small dot of sweetness. Luffy rubbed at his cheek as Sanji pulled away, his eyes alert all of a sudden.
"That felt...weird," he said.
The cook inhaled on his cigarette slowly.
"I think I need a shower," said Luffy, standing.
"Now?" asked Sanji. It seemed strange for Luffy to prefer showering over sleep, especially this early, when the stars were still out. A faint, rigid outline at Luffy's midsection prevented him from asking for clarification, his face going scarlet at the realisation that either the cookies or he himself had put Luffy in a similar state to the one he was attempting to hide.
"It won't go away if I don't-"
"Okay, okay!"
A snore erupted from the corner of the small kitchen and both men turned to look at Zoro, who was resting precariously against the table, about to fall downwards.
"Just go...take care of yourself," said Sanji, raising to retrieve one of the oven mitts. The cookies would burn if he didn't take them out soon.
Luffy left without a word and Sanji exhaled, loudly. He went about his business, forcing himself not to think about what had just happened, or what Luffy might be doing at that moment in the shower, much less whether or not it had been because of him - a plan which would have worked perfectly if he hadn't done so well at forgetting as to take an unfortunate detour near the shower and heard his name, followed by a strangled cry. He stood stock-still, face heating immeasurably, body warming as his imagination took over, ignoring his feeble protests about Luffy not being a woman, and therefore fantasising being out of the question; his mouth agape as Luffy exited just two minutes later, looking relaxed and cheerful and a familiar, post-release glow clearly visible in his usually vacant eyes.
"Night, Sanji!" he said, bypassing him for the hammocks.
"...Shit."
By: worblehat
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Luffy/Sanji
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Luffy interrupts a drinking contest between Sanji and Zoro. Sanji makes him cookies.
Notes: Stolen idea from an RP. Best to ignore it.
Word Count: 1,617
Sanji didn't bother to turn around as he handed Luffy the bowl, concentrating his efforts on the oven in front of him instead. The timer was a little strange - from the indent on the bottom, it was most likely that someone had kicked it for fun, or just dropped it - and he had to watch it to make sure nothing overcooked; not just for the sake of the food, but for his honour as a chef.
"Mmmmm," he could hear behind him, accompanied by long, slow slurps. It was a sound bordering between disgusting and...something else. Sanji stood up, pulling a cigarette from his small packet and lighting it, exhaling right into the marimo's face. He grinned at the resulting insults, noting with somewhat tipsy delight that he was definitely not as badly off as Zoro, and was slowly building up a tolerance he was pretty sure no one would be able to beat soon. Except Nami~ but that was okay.
He rested his head back against one of the walls of the ship, breathing in. He might not be as drunk, but he was still having trouble focusing. Turning, he looked at Luffy, eyes widening a little. Between the appreciative, almost orgasmic hums of his captain, he caught glimpses of the warm tongue snaking hungrily along the rim of the bowl. It was...well, there was no other word for it but obscene.
Something about the way Luffy ate didn't sit comfortably with Sanji, which is why he tried to avoid watching whenever possible. Usually, Zoro provided enough distraction - even Chopper was a welcome change of pace. But now it was dark and chances were that no one else was awake-
Slowly, he let his gaze rest on Luffy's cheek, where a small spot of cookie batter rested, almost as if had been plastered on intentionally. His eyes traveled lower, focusing on the lewd mouth that consumed and all but lavished itself on the remains of dough, dark eyes shining above.
"Oi," said Sanji, snatching the bowl away. "You shouldn't eat like that."
"I wasn't done!" complained Luffy, visible miffed. He made an insistent attempt at the bowl, one hand reaching directly as the other snaked around and around Sanji's waist, hoping to acquire it that way.
"Here," said Sanji, handing him the spatula he'd used to smooth out one particularly uncooperative cookie.
Luffy's body retracted immediately, contented noises issuing from it once more.
As he worked on cleaning the now-empty bowl, Sanji fervently prayed for morning, a sea storm - anything that would drive Luffy from the kitchen so he could do what he was on the ship to do without thinking things he'd filed away in his brain under Never Think About This Again.
Finally, his nerves beginning to work overtime, he turned around again and shot a glare as he placed the bowl back in its place. "Are you almost done with th-"
"Huh?" asked Luffy, a confused look on his face at the question, his confusion deepening into laughter as he caught site of Sanji's open jaw. "I'm supervising," he said helpfully, taking another lick.
Meanwhile, the cook was pretty sure he was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. If he'd known that turning around would mean watching a lewd display of tongue against a long tube of plastic, he would have either feigned sleep or stabbed his eyes out beforehand to avoid the involuntary reaction from his body.
It wasn't that Luffy looked awkward doing this - it was that it actually looked natural somehow; and that in and of itself was highly disturbing. Barring the few talks they'd had about it, Sanji tended to keep the ideas "sex" and "Luffy" very, very far apart. He liked women, fercrissake! There was no reason that he should find something as simple as a slow, deliberate lick, accompanied with dark, intense eyes to be anything but easily neglected! No reason for him to stare as he was doing, nor to lick his lips - when had they gone dry?! - nor even to slowly step forward, grasping the handle of the spatula without taking it, his fingers folding over Luffy's slightly smaller ones.
"My spatula," said Luffy on the verge of pouting. "You said-"
Sanji ignored him, leaning forward and briefly removing his cigarette from his mouth before licking a spot Luffy had missed on the spatula. He kept his eyes level with the ones staring back at him, pretending the constant hum of whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck wasn't filling the dominant part of his brain in that moment. When he pulled back, his hands rested easily in his pockets, cigarette already back in his mouth.
"You...licked my spatula," said Luffy. Sanji smirked; it soon faded as he watched Luffy look at the spatula, then at him; the the spatula, then him; then the ceiling, then him, then the spatula, then-
"Get out of my kitchen," said Sanji, turning around. He'd sunk into this way too fast. There isn't even anything to sink into! he argued with himself. Luffy won't understand why you're making sure you don't face him, so that he doesn't see-
"Do you need a shower?" asked Luffy, head cocked slightly to one side, a faint grin showing in his features.
"Do I still smell?" A worried expression masked Sanji's face as he privately thanked whatever deity had saw fit to disrupt the potentially-awkward conversation with remarks about his hygiene; false though they were. The last thing he wanted to explain to Luffy is how two men did it. Leave that to Nami-san instead, he decided.
"You always smell," said Luffy cheerily. "How come you're turned around like that?"
"No reason," answered Sanji, eyes rooted to the baking cookies.
He flinched when he heard soft footsteps moving closer and tensed; looking down when Luffy squatted, still licking his spatula as his eyes looked on with wonder at the slowly-rising bits of dough. He glanced up at Sanji, who was having an extremely difficult time trying not to calculate the distance between his groin and Luffy's head.
Luffy, however, didn't seem perturbed by the distance and decreased it, placing his head against one of Sanji's lengthly legs, a glazed, happy look on his face.
Sanji began to sweat. Moreso than before.
"Don't fall asleep on me," he warned.
Luffy murmured something unintelligible. His head lolled slightly.
Sighing, Sanji lowered himself to the floor, squatting next to Luffy and making sure his head didn't hit anything. "Oi," he grunted, poking at Luffy's cheek. He swore as Luffy turned, mouth opening; only the very tip of his tongue pressing accidentally against the end of Sanji's index finger. "Are you doing that on purpose?" he asked, irritated.
As if in answer, Luffy swallowed, drawing the finger further into his mouth. The sensation shot to the one spot Sanji was having difficulty controlling and he gasped.
"Mmph- Sanji?" Luffy turned sleepy eyes towards him. "Are the cookies ready?"
"Almost." Sanji slowly turned his head, looking at the future Pirate King who was resting half-asleep against him. He noticed that same spot of dough from before was still stuck mercilessly against the tan skin. Resting two fingers on Luffy's chin, he inclined his head, lips attaching themselves to his cheek as his tongue swiped out to remove the small dot of sweetness. Luffy rubbed at his cheek as Sanji pulled away, his eyes alert all of a sudden.
"That felt...weird," he said.
The cook inhaled on his cigarette slowly.
"I think I need a shower," said Luffy, standing.
"Now?" asked Sanji. It seemed strange for Luffy to prefer showering over sleep, especially this early, when the stars were still out. A faint, rigid outline at Luffy's midsection prevented him from asking for clarification, his face going scarlet at the realisation that either the cookies or he himself had put Luffy in a similar state to the one he was attempting to hide.
"It won't go away if I don't-"
"Okay, okay!"
A snore erupted from the corner of the small kitchen and both men turned to look at Zoro, who was resting precariously against the table, about to fall downwards.
"Just go...take care of yourself," said Sanji, raising to retrieve one of the oven mitts. The cookies would burn if he didn't take them out soon.
Luffy left without a word and Sanji exhaled, loudly. He went about his business, forcing himself not to think about what had just happened, or what Luffy might be doing at that moment in the shower, much less whether or not it had been because of him - a plan which would have worked perfectly if he hadn't done so well at forgetting as to take an unfortunate detour near the shower and heard his name, followed by a strangled cry. He stood stock-still, face heating immeasurably, body warming as his imagination took over, ignoring his feeble protests about Luffy not being a woman, and therefore fantasising being out of the question; his mouth agape as Luffy exited just two minutes later, looking relaxed and cheerful and a familiar, post-release glow clearly visible in his usually vacant eyes.
"Night, Sanji!" he said, bypassing him for the hammocks.
"...Shit."