inbox for golden peacock

[cartographie]

@nami

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[cartographie]

Tastier than— [ Whew why is typing two little words making her blush this much? ] My boyfriend? Sounds impossible.

[ The time it takes to move through the passage connecting her suite with his, is enough to get the red on her face back down to a somewhat respectable, but still downright girlish pink. Not that Nami believes Sanji will do anything but smile stupidly at the sight of both it, and her. Being so perpetually accepted by someone isn't as weird as it used to be. There may always be a lingering streak of strangeness that will only fade with time, but the bigger part of Nami has come to not just accept that she's loved, but to relish it for reasons beyond using it to her advantage.

Moving quietly through Sanji's suite, with her shoes left behind on the beach, she creeps into the kitchen, where she's almost sure he'll be.

Once Nami spots him, it doesn't take long for her to get where she should be, namely with her arms around his waist, hugging him from behind for a brief moment before her arms loosen and she tilts her chin up to perch on his shoulder, head turned to let the warmth of her breath tickle over his skin when she speaks. ]

Hey gorgeous.

[chiffonades]

careful or you're gonna give me a big head, love.

[ It shouldn't really make him this happy, seeing those two little words blinking there on the screen, but it does. They linger in his head as he does what's only natural— making his way to the kitchen to start preparing— face split in a grin that's large and foolish and definitely fully lovestruck as he starts pulling out ingredients from the pantry and refrigerator. When he'd first arrived here, still scrambling to find his crew, to find some scrap of normalcy to cling to, anything remotely close to what they've become to one another had seemed like an impossibility. Oh, he'd adored her, would've worshiped the ground she walked on if she'd let him, but with every easy grin and fond look he'd sent her way, there'd been no expectation, no belief that she'd ever look at him the same way.

He's still smiling like that— how could he not be?— so caught up in slicing thin ribbons of onion and fondly recalling everything they've been through that he never notices her sneaking into the kitchen. ]

Hey yourself, beautiful. [ Chuckling warmly, he still shivers where her breath blows over his skin, hands gently taking hers and peeling them away from his waist as he turns to face her. Even with the picture from earlier, his breath still catches for a brief moment as he looks at her, teeth briefly raking over his bottom lip while his hands gently squeeze hers.

Unable to stop himself, his lips brush against hers a heartbeat later in a kiss that's brief and soft, full of all that warm adoration that rises up so easily within him. And before she can say anything, he does it twice more, sighing happily each time, tongue gently wetting the soft swell of her lips in a quick tease. Somehow, he's left with an even stupider smile on his face after, forehead resting against hers as he stares into those eyes that are as deep and welcoming as the sea. ] Still got a while to go on lunch. Figured we'd eat then get outta here?

[ Either way, he's taking her by the hips as they talk and lifting, sitting her on the counter right next to where he's working on preparing the salad for today's lunch. ]

[cartographie]

[ Before he gets the chance to guide her arms out from around him, Nami lets her weight shift forward, resting on the balls of her feet as her chest settles against his back. The familiarity between them is something Nami could never have imagined could mean as much as it does. Closeness for the sake of closeness (without intent to pickpocket) and all the genuine intimacy that comes with it isn’t new after this much time at the resort. With someone who means as much to her as Sanji does, there’s an added, brilliantly soft and sweet weight to it, like being wrapped in a sun-warmed blanket before falling asleep on a drizzly afternoon.

Sanji turns, and she steps back to give him room before their eyes meet. She lets the thoughts running through her mind show on her face, the affection once reserved for the darkness of her bedroom bright in her eyes and gentle as it curves those full lips into a smile that’s just for him. Nami’s arms adjust themselves, elbows bent, and her wrists turn up to allow the tips of her fingers to run down the lengths of his arms, touching the refined fabric of his shirt and the solid lines of a body she knows so well beneath.

Though her lips part to speak, she stops herself in favor of letting him lean close, her chin lifting enough to let her mouth meet his, the corners of her lips curling in a self-satisfied smirk as he runs his tongue over them. It’s only after he teases over the plush softness of the lower one that her resolve breaks, her mouth chasing his before those lips tense round the tip of his tongue, briefly sucking at it before letting him break away.

That he’s back a second later gets a husky chuckle out of her, the sound smothered and vibrating against his mouth. Somewhere in that affectionate rush of feathery kisses, her body’s ended up molding itself against him, breasts snug against his chest as her hips nudge at his absently, the shape of her form more than apparent beneath the thin fabric of her new dress and the silky stockings that now cling to the strong, cushy colonnade of her thighs. The closeness she could have never imagined for herself threaded through every move, potent enough to make her flush and hold her breath when their foreheads rest briefly against one another’s and her senses are set alight by the brilliant blue of his eyes. ]

I think you can have whatever you want today.

[ Or any day, but she’s not going into those finer details when he’s lifting her red heels off the floor to set her down on the counter. She’s too busy rolling her eyes at the move for that. What is it with the idiots in her life just ferrying her wherever they want?

Nami swivels to face him and lets the toe of her shoe nudge his hip while he works, both hands planted on the smooth surface of the counter beneath her so she can lean back to watch him, playing the part of spectator even as she rolls her shoulders to let the low V of her dress part further, leaving the swell of her breasts and the smooth valley of delicately freckled skin beneath them on display. ]

So what’s on the menu, chef?

[chiffonades]

Anything I want, huh? [ His lips might be hovering mere inches from hers— close enough that Sanji can still feel the warmth rolling off them, inviting and sweet and more than a little tempting— but he still thinks the wickedly smug way his lips curve into a sly grin is obvious. Months of being trapped here together— of the easy, shameless intimacy that's built up between them, each day whittling down the barriers that would have made it impossible back on the Merry— have ensured that he's grown familiar with every inch of her, that nothing about the way her body presses against the broad, rigid plane of his chest is unfamiliar. How many nights have they spent just like this, bodies pressed together in a way that only feels right as the darkness surrounds them and ushers in sleep?

He never tires of it. Not in the hazy bliss that follows a long night of sex and passion where they're both left with slick skin, swollen lips, and sweet, shameless babble spilling from their lips in a tangle of limbs and exhaustion and not in moments like this, where every sense is alight with her. ] That's a damn dangerous offer. Lots of things I want, but all of them involve you, gorgeous.

[ Laughing gently as he sets her down on the countertop, there's not even an attempt to hide the appreciative look that roams over her body, greedily drinking in every detail of her that his gifts highlight. It makes the way he grins at her a moment later take on an edge of wildness, a hint of hunger lurking there.

That he wants her is obvious, because Sanji always wants her, because if there's one thing he's learned since arriving here, it's how to be direct in the things he really, truly desires, the things he wants with his whole heart. And it's a testament to how much he wants this date to proceed— to spend the afternoon spoiling her— that rather than crashing his lips against hers again in a daze of hunger and lust, he just shoots her another grin, one hand idly drumming its fingers over the delicate lace of a stocking high on her thigh. ]

Tempted as I am to say you're the appetizer, main course, and dessert, Nami, we're gonna save that for a bit later. [ Is he serious? Probably. The playful way he winks at her, a self-satisfied smirk settling on his lips as he deposits the thin moons of onion in a metal bowl, along with the way he bites his lower lip, certainly suggests it. Nearby on the stove, a pot of water slowly comes to a simmer— only a midway point on it's journey to a full, rolling boil— while Sanji leans closer, lips lightly brushing against the soft skin just below her ear. ]

Thought I'd keep lunch, uh, simple. [ Which is Sanji for "I'm going to make you something that anyone would else would consider a full dinner" because he can't do anything by halves, least of all when Nami's involved. It could be more extravagant, but he's saving that for dinner— if she'll let him convince her to grant him her company for the whole day and into tomorrow, anyway. ] We're gonna have a tomato and onion salad with a balsamic vinaigrette, pasta with shrimp and a wine-butter sauce, and strawberries dipped in chocolate for dessert. You know, something sweet for someone sweet.

[ A part of him wonders if she remembers it— the silly thing he first said to her, way back when at the Baratie— but even if not, it doesn't really matter. Just looking at her makes his heart flutter in the most pleasant way he can imagine. This time, he does kiss her mouth— soft and sweet and quick, a gentle brush of his lips— before taking a step back with an almost regretful sigh, although his fingers still gently drum against her thigh. ] You want something to drink while I cook, lovely? Won't be long before I get a little too busy to make you anything.

[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. ]