inbox for golden peacock

[cartographie]

@nami

▶ TEXT

▶ AUDIO

▶ VIDEO

▶ ACTION

Comments

[cartographie]

[ She remembers—vividly, if the magnitude of the way she rolls her eyes at that comment offers any clue. They have come a long way, but Nami will never falter when it comes to wordlessly pointing out how ridiculous he can be. It's a quality she never expected to love as much as she does, but then, the same could be said for much of the swiftly grown, deeply secure closeness that now binds them so snugly together. ]

I already fucked you, and you're still using that line on me? [ Nami grins through the question, touched that he wants to work hard to show her a good time in a way that's something of a departure from all the delicious ways they pass their days. Sincere dates—without a fiscally motivated hustle behind them—are something that's only entered the realm of possibility since her arrival at the resort, and they never fail to leave her feeling delighted and spoiled in the best way. Just like with everything, 

From the clothes and the jewelry to the elaborate spread he's planning on concocting to kick this off, keeping her hands to herself is becoming challenging. She’s torn: there’s almost nothing better than being spoiled, especially with jewelry and all the sweet smiles and kisses he’s so inclined to direct her way, but at the same time, she knows exactly how good it feels to bracket his hips with her inner thighs and relish every roll forward. The purposeful way he manages to hold back when he kisses her doesn’t help, either.

The idea of a drink hits at exactly the right time, and Nami nods while hastily slipping off the edge of the counter, her skin a degree or so warmer than it had been in the moments before Sanji got close enough to kiss her. ]

You cook, and I'll mix us drinks.

[ Smirking at him as pink rises beneath the freckles dusted across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, Nami turns and moves towards a well-stocked bar cart. A row of bottles and various implements wait behind the cabinet doors, presenting an ideal distraction from the lingering twinges of the initial pang of want Sanji’s already managed to draw out of her. ]

Where are your fresh herbs?  [ Before he can answer, she’s crossed towards one of the built-in refrigerators, inspecting the contents before returning to the bar area with a few sprigs of rosemary and a frosty bottle of pear juice. Nami’s no mixologist. The mixed drinks she knows how to make, she’s learned because she likes to drink them, and there isn’t always someone around to mix her the perfect cocktail to take into the bath with her. Having a gifted chef for a partner means she’s unlikely to ever impress him in the way every meal and concoction he comes at her with floors her, but she likes the thought of coming out with the occasional surprise and making him smile.

Blame it on how much she enjoys listening to him hard at work in the kitchen. Infatuation is gross like that.

Ice clatters into a pair of wide-based glasses, followed by a series of meticulous pours, first the now rosemary-imbued pear juice, then the pea flower gin. Even after the cocktails are made, Nami is careful, not wanting to ruin the effect when she gently settles Sanji’s drinkdown on the counter near where he’s working. ]

Try it. I think it'll go with the menu.

[chiffonades]

[ Sanji's not sure whether it's the exaggerated way she rolls her eyes or the obvious grin plastered to her face that helps steep his laughter in warm, rich amusement, but it doesn't really matter. He's still chuckling softly, still grinning like a lovesick fool in her direction as he continues to effortlessly slice through tomatoes. ]

Thought it was a pretty good line, even if you've already fucked me over and over again. Besides, you're plenty sweet. Mmm, and spicy, too. [ Flashing a wink in her direction, this time he does lean in to gently brush a soft kiss to her lips, unable and unwilling to stop himself. Any other time, he would let this take the natural course of things— nudge her thighs open with his hands, claim her mouth with kisses far hungrier for her than lunch, sink to his knees to make her moan with his tongue— and while they aren't really celebrating anything special, that doesn't lessen his desire to see lunch through and take her out on a date.

Really, his newfound ability to spoil her— and, okay, to have another private space to spend time with her in— is the best part of his recent promotion. It's not in Sanji to care about things like rank and status normally, especially when it's so tied to the weird fixation the Peacock has with hierarchies, and the increased attention often leaves him feeling uneasy. But being able to give Nami the things she wants, to spend long afternoons lavishing her with glittering jewelry and cute clothing and his undivided attention? That's the real reward in all of this.

His eyes practically light up at her suggestion and, if anything, his grin somehow becomes brighter and sunnier as he watches her slip off the table— fuck, she's beautiful is the only thing he thinks, then, mouth going a little dry— and his head dips in a quick, agreeable nod. ]

Shit— can't believe I'm gonna get to try a Nami special. [ The excitement is palpable in his voice as he winks at her, heart skipping a beat again as that same thought from earlier echoes in his head. ] Go for it, gorgeous. Can't wait to taste what you make.

[ And he's honest about that because even though he's a professionally trained cook— and knows the importance of culinary techniques inside and out— that deeply romantic heart of his truly believes that love is the key to great cooking… and great cocktails. It matters that despite his extensive experience cooking food and mixing drinks, she still wants to make them for him. Baratie had never really afforded him the time— or the space— to gain much experience in the way of love. She's his first partner— his first girlfriend, a thought that still makes his heart flutter because, yes, infatuation is gross like that— but as much as he enjoys seeing the look of sheer delight on her face when he makes something particularly tasty, it still makes his heart sing when she returns the favor.

While she works on the drinks, he focuses on making their lunch, finishing chopping the vegetables for their salad and whipping up the balsamic dressing in a heartbeat. The strawberries are already done— cooling on a tray in one of his refrigerators— which means that he's at the stove when she brings the glass over, the scent of garlic frying in oil filling the air while listening to the sounds of her mixing the drink. As soon as he sees the drink— and her— the look of concentration dissipates in favor of one full of eagerness and adoration. ]

Looks amazing. One second, okay? [ Before he samples the drink, Sanji quickly adds the shrimp to the skillet while long strands of linguine cook in the nearby boiling water. As soon as everything's settled, though, he picks up the glass and inspects it, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards as the dimples on his cheeks deepen. He takes a small swallow, letting the sweet and herbaceous drink linger on his tongue, savoring it as he looks at Nami adoringly.

If he weren't so damn determined to make sure this date happens, he really would kiss her like his life depended on it.

As it is, Sanji brushes his mouth against hers in another quick kiss, voice a quiet murmur. ] Tastes amazing. And yeah, yeah, it'll go so damn well with lunch. Wanna take these over to the table and meet me there? Food won't take but another five minutes to finish making.

[ It's already set, of course, with a bouquet of roses as a centerpiece. ]