inbox for golden peacock

[chiffonades]

@sanji

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pretend this is dated march 2nd 🎂🧡💛

[cartographie]

[ Early morning, Sanji’s birthday. And it has to be very early if she expects to beat the cook at his own game. Opting for the outdoor kitchen by the pool, where she stands less of a chance of being discovered while at work, Nami gets breakfast ready. Over the course of an hour, in the artificial but still scant light of early morning, she ends up with a tray piled high with every kind of breakfast food she can remember him liking. Muffins, egg dishes, at least three varieties of pancake, a pot of tea, a carafe of coffee and her best attempt at an elegant cut fruit salad all accompany a cold bottle of champagne and two empty glasses.

Hesitation is not an option, even though she may have underestimated the tray’s weight when first trying to lift it off the kitchen counter. Nami’s thankful for the years she’s spent relying on being,at least, somewhat nimble to get her through her once familiar, now greatly expanded suite.

Nothing is perfect, and there is a slight clatter once she’s back in her private string of rooms, setting the tray down on a small table just off the balcony overlooking the fake ocean, but she makes it back to bed (hopefully) undetected. Once she’s comfortably stretched out beside him, Nami wastes no time sliding between the covers until she’s flush against his side with both arms wrapped around him and her face buried in the crook of his neck.

How many times has he good morning princessed her by now? Nami isn’t the outwardly giving type, but she’s learning to let herself go enough to put her heart on the sleeve for him enough to want to turn the tables and be the one spoiling him for a change. For as generous with his heart as Sanji is, Nami’s beginning to realize he’s somehow managed to almost never be on the receiving end of the soft, sweet kindness he constantly offers her with both hands.

The thought pulls a soft hum from her as her lips purse enough to press kisses against the column of his throat, waiting patiently for him to stir before speaking. ]

Happy birthday, gorgeous.

🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛

[chiffonades]

[ Birthdays have never held much meaning for Sanji.

It's a simple fact of the circumstances surrounding his life. Reviled by his family, there'd been no indulgent celebrations for him growing up. He might have shared the date with his brothers, but it had been as hellish as any other day had been. Even life aboard the Baratie hadn't changed his perspective, not when it had been so easy to think of his tiny life as still being completely unimportant. Oh, Zeff had left small gifts– a new knife, the latest cookbook, a batch of especially rare ingredients– but sentimantility had never been something he expressed easily, preferring a hastily scrawled note or a gruffly murmured congratulations for surviving another year.

Those little celebrations had thrilled him, but he'd never quite learned to believe that he deserved them. For anyone else– for Nami especially, who he'd gladly dote and spoil when her birthday came– it's another matter entirely,

Sleep still has a firm hold on him early that morning when Nami slips out of bed. It's been months since he'd mentioned when his birthday was– long enough that he's forgotten mentioning to her– and she's still the only person he's told about it. It hadn't seemed worth mentioning to anyone else. Despite the grip that sleep has on him, even in his dreams, he still notices her loss, still notices the lack of warmth and softness, notices the way things no longer feel right. In the dream, they're aboard the Merry– they all are, Usopp and Luffy and Zoro, too– as they sit on deck and watch the sunset together. And for a moment, she's gone, no longer wrapped tight in his arms, no longer warm in his embrace, but still, the feeling of her lips brushing against his cheek lingers like a promise.

Time, thankfully, has no meaning in the land of the dreaming and that sensation only truly lasts a moment before she returns and Sanji sighs, both in the dream and reality, shifting closer as she slides back into place, back to where she belongs. Sleep is losing it's hold by then, it's grip growing weaker, and with every kiss that she brushes against his skin, it weakens further until at last he does stir as he shakes off the last dredges of sleep, a quiet sound humming in his throat as he stretches out and blinks open eyes lidded with the remnants of sleep. ]

Nami–? [ Blinking a few more time, he beams down at her with a grin that's still bright despite how small it is– Sanji's still not awake enough to manage more– but what she says cuts right through the foggy sleepiness that still clouds his thoughts.

His birthday.

He laughs softly, the sound both weak and somehow joyful, as he catches her face between his palms and gingerly strokes his thumbs along her cheekbones. Even without the bond, the sheer, unfeigned delight is obvious on his face as he presses the softest kiss he can against her lips. ]

You remembered my birthday. [ Laughing sleepily, he kisses her again, just as soft, just as sweet. He shouldn't care about anyone remembering it, but the fact that she did is so, so special to him. It's about that time that the smell of food wafts over from where she's left it and, if anything, he looks even more delighted when he realizes what she's done. ] DId you– did you make us breakfast?

[cartographie]

[ Nami can't guard herself against the warmth in her smile as Sanji rouses. She gives him space to stretch, resting the side of her head against his pillow while she watches with unabashed fondness. And, maybe she could reason it away – his birthday is special, so of course she feels sentimental about it, but in truth Nami doesn't have to search too deeply within herself to know that's a load of bullshit. She's like this because she cares for him in ways that she might have taken a long time coming around to (if she did at all) back home. ]

Of course I did. Did you think I was going to stop keeping track of everything because we're not back home? [ She teases, before he kisses her, and Nami finds herself chasing after his mouth to prolong it while her heart thumps pleasantly in her chest. Leave it to Sanji to make Nami feel doted on, even while she's in the middle of trying to spoil him for a change.

Blushing unexpectedly when he asks about breakfast, she nods and turns her head, both to look towards the tray and hide her face, even if the sight of how overloaded the thing was doesn't help her feel any less bashful. ]

I don't know what you like, so I tried to cover my bases. Your present is over there too. [ By now she's recovered enough that she can turn back to him without reddened cheeks, even managing to smirk slyly before she adds. ] Or, part of your present. Some of it is right here.

[chiffonades]

[ Waking up next to her is always a joy— one that he'd never seriously thought he'd ever experience back home— but there's something a dozen times sweeter about it today. And try as that small, unrelenting piece of his heart that clings to the past might, it can't dismiss just how special he feels at that moment when the realization hits, and he catches the way she looks at him, brimming with all that sweet, unending affection that makes his chest flood with warmth and his heart swim with just how much he cherishes her. It's so much easier to admit that, now, than it was even a month ago. ]

You're right. Should've known better than to think you'd forget anything. You're too damn brilliant for that. [ Soft, sleepy laughter rumbles gently in his chest as he grins at her, lopsided and so deeply joyful that there's no way it looks anything other than dopey. Not that it matters, not when it's her, not when he's left sighing softly at the feeling of her soft, warm lips brushing against his. ]

Shit, Nami— I, uh, can't wait to try it. I wanna try it all. Smells so damn good. [ As if to prove his point, his stomach rumbles eagerly as he flashes a sheepish smile at her, eyes still lidded with barely warded off sleep. He doesn't even have to think about kissing her again— he just does it, lips softly pressed against hers for a brief handful of seconds— and murmurs, grinning wickedly against her. ] Yeah? Sounds like I've already won the present jackpot. Can't imagine anything better than you, beautiful.

[ Slowly, his hands are already pushing the lush, fluffy comforter down his bottom. He's naked, of course, but there's no surprise there, not after they fell asleep last night in their usual tangle of limbs, curled around one another. Sanji's lips curl in a lazy smile as he steals another quick kiss— because he can and can never get enough of them— before slowly sitting up. ] Much as I like staying in bed with you— better go and see what else you got me.

[ Laughing, he slips out of bed and to his feet, but not without taking her hand in his, first, and giving it a quick squeeze as he tugs her arm playfully, grinning a moment later as she follows after him. ]

[cartographie]

[ For all his kisses do to make her want to relax into bed and keep him with her in the sheets until it's time for her birthday, Nami lets him go, her eyebrows wiggling amusedly at the sight of his bare ass. She's committed to going all in, hasn't she? Yet part of Nami is somewhat thankful that Sanji's climbing out of bed to head towards the tray, as it means he's unlikely to notice that she's not quite breathing.

Beside the bottle of champagne sits a white box tied with a length of indigo velvet ribbon. For all the casino's shopping center contains, finding something truly special had taken a trip to the storage rooms of the resort, a darkly lit space full of unique, but forgotten treasures. Considering how old most of that stuff was, Nami didn't think of it as stealing so much as antiquing, though she doubts Sanji's going to care about where the lighter waiting in the box came from. Beneath the lighter is a slip of paper, folded once, 'love you, Nami' written across the inside in the artistic, looping scrawl she reserves for the legends of her maps.

Telling him like this felt safer at the time, once she decided to stop holding back the one thing Nami swears they both must know, but while she watches his back, her cool veneer eroding rapidly, she's beginning to have her doubts about that. ]

[chiffonades]

[ There’s nothing about the small box, with it’s sharp gilded edges and darkly lush ribbon that gives any hint at what’s inside— and, frankly, Sanji isn’t trying to guess. The fact that she got him something at all is more than enough to make his heart swell with feelings that are far more than fond, his body a flood of the kind of pleasant warmth that’s most common after they’ve lost hours together— hours spent curled together, tangled up in one another’s arms, lips swollen from too many kisses— but it’s only been minutes. When he lifts the lid with a touch that’s reverance, his face lights up with pure, unbridled joy the moment he spots the light. She’s right to assume he doesn’t care where it came from because he doesn’t— the only thing that matters is that she got it for him. It’s only natural to pick it up, laughing delightedly, inspecting in closer detail— it’s perfect, he decides, already discarding the cheaply bought one from the store mentally— mouth open to say— ]

A lighter—!

[ —but then he notices the way the slip of paper has started to unfold and how at the angle he holds the box, there’s a dark line of ink on the inside. Curiosity wins out as he tilts his head, snapping the paper out of the box and placing the lighter back inside, then setting them back down next to the bottle.

When he unfolds the paper and sees the words written there, he gasps, head snapping around to suddenly stare at Nami, then back down at the paper, the back at Nami, and one less time down at the paper, as if to make sure he’s not imagining, as if to ensure the words aren’t a figment of his imagination.

They’re not.

love you, Nami

For a moment, it feels like his heart is frozen in his chest— like it all knows how to do is skip beats, like it wants to draw this moment of realization out into forever— but then it’s beating again, beating so damn fast as the realization slams into him and that disbelieving question dies on his tongue because it’s Nami, it’s Nami and she’s never say something like this and not mean it. It’s been only a couple of weeks since that day out in the springs and they’d both been struck by arrows sent from Cupid himself. And they’d all but said it then, really, bared their hearts to one another, torn through months of unspoken feelings buried in her fear of being vulnerable and his of being worthless.

But in the moment, it still manages to nearly knock him off his feet.

Sanji crosses the distance between them with quick, rapid steps, eyes suddenly damp as one hand clutches the paper against his chest. Without a word, he wraps both arms around her, pulls her so close, flush against his chest as the grin of lovestruck fool spreads wide across his face and he laughs, dumbfounded, joyous, ecstatic. The paper lands on the bed, gently released from his fingers in the instant before he catches her face between his hands and kisses her. It’s not greedy, or hungry, or desperate, not hard, or demanding, or full of need. He pours ever ounce of fondness and affection and, yes, love, he has for her in that kiss, letting it simmer, letting his lips move languidly and his forehead rest against hers when he ends it with a sigh a long moment later. And he’s still beaming as he looks down at her, the world suddenly back to being just them, thumbs gently stroking her cheekbones. ]

Love you too. [ It’s a soft, gentle murmur as he laughs, almost disbelieving, laughs and then kisses her again. ] Love you, Nami. So damn much.

[cartographie]

[ His heart might be racing, but Nami's feels like it's slowed down considerably as she holds her breath and takes in every aspect of how Sanji reacts to that note. This isn't as visceral as the last time Nami put her heart on her sleeve, like she had back outside Coco Village when she asked Luffy for help, but it feels just as soul-bearing. Her stomach, if not her entire body, becomes one large knot while she watches him clutch the lighter in his hand while he reads, the heavy press of concern threatening to break through the fragile wall of her hopes until he turns, and she can see the look on his face.

In the span of a second, this effort in sharing, and all the stress that came with it, seems like a very paltry price to pay. His expression is beautiful. He's never hidden anything from her, and yet the light in his eyes manages to look new. Warmth spreads across her face, and though part of her wants to, Nami ignores the urge to duck her head and hide her face, choosing instead to take those few steps closer and meet him halfway before rising up onto the balls of her feet to make it even easier for Sanji to wrap his arms around her.

She swears she can feel his heart hammering against her chest, although she suspects it could be her own racing away as well, a thunderous patter that picks up a half step as he pulls back to cradle her face in that adoring way of his, before kissing her at last. ]

Okay– [ Nami pauses, looking almost sheepish as an uncharacteristically girlish laugh escapes her, and she grins helplessly wide up at his face, tears pricking up at the corners of her eyes. ] Okay, shut up. [ Another giggle, and she shakes her head at herself and leans in to kiss him again, still smiling stupidly against his mouth. ] Happy birthday, Sanji.