chiffonades | inbox for golden peacock

Bottoms up then, yeah? [ Sanji laughs and raises his glass for another quick clink against Shanks’ before taking a swallow. All of his compunctions against the resort's food matter much less when there's clear consent involved. It's one thing for someone to unknowingly drink a cocktail that's going to leave them horny out of their mind, but if they know and make that choice?

Well, he can't say he's against that.

And they are pirates, after all, so they might as well enjoy whatever comes their way. Regardless of what the House’s after, he no longer has any problems with trying to enjoy the opportunities that come with being here.

The slight burn of the alcohol is pleasant enough as it goes down and the taste of it lingers on his tongue– notes of oak and vanilla and smoke and caramel– and Sanji’s still grinning, bright and bold, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips. ]

Well, you know I’m a cook, yeah? Mean’s I’m pretty damn good with my hands. [ For emphasis, the hand on Shanks’ knee slides up, fingers dragging along the inside of his thigh. Not all the way up it, but enough to be plenty suggestive. ] Something involving them could be pretty fun, you know?

[ And Shanks is the type to willingly ingest aphrodisiacs, for fun, with another willing party, of course. He's not pleased with the spiked food, he just doesn't worry too much for himself.

[ This drink Sanji has concocted for him, though, Shanks has to take a moment to savor the flavor on his tongue. ] I'm starting to think you always consider the blend of flavors and scent with high levels of creativity.

[ Shanks chuckles to Sanji's point about his hands. His eyes trail down to Sanji's fingers, and he grins. ] Perhaps in multiple ways.

I welcome you to show me all the ways in which you are. Myself? I'm a bit better with my mouth, unless a blade is involved.

[ The pleasure that Sanji takes from the compliment is obvious because he's grinning like a fool at it. When it comes to small things– like a pretty woman paying him attention or a fellow pirate whose company he enjoys paying him compliments– he's almost a completely open book. ]

I do, you know? Cooking's an art. So's making fancy cocktails. You just gotta put your heart into it, show the people you're cooking for– or mixing drinks for– how much you care.

[ None of that actually comes from Zeff, who'd insist good technique and solid skills are what make a great chef. But Sanji's an idealist and a romantic at heart. ]

Definitely in more than one way. [ He grins back at Shanks, fingers on one hand gently massaging the inside of that thigh, while his other moves up to pop open the top button of his shirt. ]

I'm not too bad with my mouth either, you know? A good cook's always gotta taste everything. [ Sanji pops open a second button, leaning all the way in to gently rake his teeth over the hallow of Shanks' throat before pressing a gentle kiss to it, hand inching even higher on his thigh. ]

[ There's a growing smile on Shanks' face as he listens to how much this particular art form matters to Sanji. He's not surprised, considering the kind of person Luffy is, but it's still entrancing. ]

Anyone I've ever known who views anything that way excels in unexpected ways. They also speak to the heart without saying a word.

[ There's another chuckle to the mouth comment. ] That's two of us, though I don't have cooking as an excuse for why I like tasting everything.

[ He feels Sanji's teeth on his skin, and, well, so much for the drink. Shanks is careful to set it aside, though, not wanting it to spill and be wasted. He wants to drink the rest of it, properly, in a bit. ]

[ For now, his hand free, he moves to pop the remainder of his own buttons, and give Sanji more room to work with. ]

[ The thing is, Sanji doesn't know anyway else to be. Maybe it's just the kind of person he is, or maybe it's just an after effect of only having this one thing to dedicate his life to after the Vinsmokes, but all he can do is put his heart and soul into cooking and everything else that matters. ]

If you say so. [ Sanji laughs softly as he says it, grinning at him. ] I just dunno any other way to cook than that.

[ And there's another laugh a heartbeat later. ] You just like to enjoy the little pleasures in life, yeah? Not your fault that some of the best– food and booze– require tasting.

[ He notices Shanks neatly setting the glass and make a quiet noise of approval. While Sanji doesn't have nearly the qualms about wasting booze that he has about wasting food, it still makes him smile to see him try and preserve his hard work.

Which is why he's quick to take advantage of the open buttons, flashing a wicked grin up at Shanks as he dots kisses along his collarbone and gently cups his cock through the fabric of his pants, gingerly massaging it for the moment. ]

It's just what I see from here. I'm sure you know best. [ And Shanks sounds like he means that when he says it, too. He does. It's not his place to decide Sanji's motives. ]

[ That particular alcohol is very tasty, and Shanks intends to finish it, once they're done, of course. Right now, he has other places he can put his tongue. ]

People do, as well.

[ That's all Shanks can say to that grin of Sanji's. His hand slips from himself to Sanji, and starts to pop open his buttons, one by one. He breathes in deeply to the feel of Sanji's hand on his cock, which is clearly hard. ]

[ Laughing softly, Sanji shakes his head, still quietly pleased by the compliment that Shanks’ had sent his way. He’d meant what he said, too, about not knowing any other way to cook— or do anything, really. That’s who he’s been and it’s who, he hopes, he’ll always be.

His lips spread into a grin that’s full of wicked delight at the implications inherent in Shanks’ speech and, as brazen as he often is in the quest for carnal delights, he’s quick to lick hot stripe over his throat, tasting the red-head’s skin with a quiet groan of approval. ]

Damn right they do. Especially Captains stuck in this shitty resort.

[ Chuckling quietly, Sanji dusts a few more quick kisses along Shanks’ throat, working his way upwards until he finally captures his mouth in a firm kiss, lips working slowly against the other man’s. That sharp intake of breath is a sweet reward, too, and he’s not shy about rubbing the stiff length a bit faster through his pants, hand gently squeezing as he does it. ]

Edited 2025-04-03 02:19 (UTC)

[ To that, Shanks' chuckles, a low rumble in his throat and chest from it. ]

I would say you have Lucky Roux to thank for my flavor, but I've been without my chef for a year. Maybe it's the resort booze.

[ And as Sanji's mouth trails down, Shanks' hand starts to trail down his back. He breathes in at Sanji's grip, hard and pleased, with another rumble. Then he splays his hand over one of Sanji's ass cheeks, then he gives it a firm squeeze. ]

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