UsoSan for Laura
Aug. 2nd, 2005 02:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dethoratsOkay, so this is definitely NOT one of my better pieces of work. It's choppy, written in random spurts over several days, feels forced, and is entirely uneditted. However, I feel bad about having posted nothing yet. So, Laura, you can have this for now and I'll write you some different, much better UsoSan at a later date. Something that doesn't suck so much.
Title: Ponder (yet another very bad attempt at word play)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3678
“Robin-chan told me about your project.”
“Sh-she did?”
“How come you haven’t asked me yet?
Usopp felt his mouth open but no words came out. There were quite a lot of reasons why he hadn’t asked the blond chef, had never intended on doing so. But that wasn’t important. What was more important was figuring out what he was going to say and if those really HAD been notes of confusion and dejection he’d heard in Sanji’s tone.
“Um, well…”
“I know they’re nude portraits and I’m not a damn exhibitionist like Luffy or the seaweed head, but I’m not ashamed of my body or anything.
It had INDEED been pain that he’d caught. Well, shit. Now Usopp was stuck. On the one hand, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt the cook’s feelings. On the other, the thought of having to look at Sanji, a naked Sanji because otherwise he just KNEW the blond would think that he thought he was too skinny or some other stupid thing, would be very difficult. He had more than a small crush on Sanji and sketching him, nude no less, would undoubtedly make a certain part of his anatomy react (the same way it reacted every time the chef had to save Luffy from drowning and stalked around the deck dripping wet, shirtless, those pants that were already tight positively CLINGING to his ass…and this line of thought was not helping him any). Usopp mentally girded his loins. What was the worst that could happen? He was pretty sure Luffy and Zoro wouldn’t let Sanji actually go so far as to kill him and he’d survived brutal beatings in the past. He just couldn’t bring himself to refuse the cook.
“It’s just, I thought maybe you wouldn’t want to. I mean, you know, stand around naked and get sketched by another guy. If it was Nami or something, I’m sure you wouldn’t care, but it’s me and it might be weird for you, maybe, and that’s why I didn’t wanna ask.”
A small frown creased the single visible curled eyebrow that so fascinated the sharpshooter. “You didn’t mind asking Luffy or Zoro.”
“Aw, they don’t count. You know Luffy doesn’t wear clothes most of the time unless one of us makes him and Zoro doesn’t care. Besides both of them are…” Usopp waved his hand from side to side. “…you know, together. Male nudity doesn’t mean anything to them.”
Although how both of them had so much self-control around each other, considering how often one or the other or both of them were bare, was a secret Usopp REALLY wanted to learn.
“Oh.”
Usopp sighed in relief. That seemed to have soothed Sanji’s fears or vanity or whatever it was that had made his voice taut when he had first approached him. Perhaps he’d be getting out of this one unscathed after all.
“I see. Yeah, those two are completely ignorant of how to behave on a ship when ladies are present. But I wouldn’t mind posing for you. You don’t have any normal looking body types yet. Luffy’s all stretched out and Zoro’s got more muscle than should be humanly possible. And you sketched Chopper in his reindeer form. So if you want, I’d be happy to be the ordinary male out of the bunch.”
Crap. There was no help for it. He’d have to draw Sanji now. And how the cook could EVER think he was ordinary, with that ass and those legs…Okay, he had to get away from that line of thinking NOW before he, as it were, spilled the beans. He’d just, yeah, do a really big drawing, or at least one big enough that he’d need a lap board to support his paper and that way he’d have some protection.
“O, okay. Thanks. That’d be really great.” Not really, but he didn’t have a choice anymore. “When do you want to do this?”
“How about now?”
“Now?!” He was SO not ready to handle now. “Er, don’t you have to make dinner or something in an hour? It’ll take longer than that.”
“If you don’t mind, I was thinking maybe you could just draw the back of me? I don’t move around too much when I’m cooking matelote, at least not once I’ve got all the ingredients in the pot. If we get started now, couldn’t you be finished by the time the soup is ready? Or is that not long enough for you?”
He could here the sudden challenge in the chef’s voice, and he wasn’t called The Great Captain Usopp for nothing. Even if it did mean he would probably be too sore to eat his supper later.
“It’s more than enough time for me. Why, one time I drew the entire court of the king of the Copper Isle, in pointillist style no less, in only twenty-five minutes. He rewarded me with – “
Sanji cut him off with a small smile. “Whatever. I’m sure you’ll manage. I’ll just meet you in the kitchen then.”
The cook sauntered off and Usopp couldn’t help but track the slight swaying of that black-clad posterior. Finally the door to the galley closed and he was able to break away, a slight sheen of sweat already forming beneath his bandanna. This was going to be very hard, in more ways than one.
Sanji grinned as he pulled the door to the galley shut behind him. He had felt Usopp’s eyes on him the entire way, confirming his suspicions that the ship’s resident sharpshooter and artist had been stealing glances at him for some time now. If he hadn’t known that Zoro and Luffy were quite single-mindedly focused on each other, he wouldn’t have put it past the damn marimo to have been the one doing all the ogling. That it was Usopp was an entirely different matter.
When he’d first met the Straw Hat crew, he’d thought Usopp was a complete waste of a human being. Even the crap swordsman had been better. But the Usopp that was presented to the world and the Usopp that the sharpshooter really was inside were two entirely different people. Sure Usopp, both sides of him, was often afraid, often told stories, often acted like a complete idiot. And he faced his fears, kept them all from going insane with boredom, and was far more caring and compassionate than his projected selfish demeanor. His opinion of the younger man had slowly changed until one morning he’d woken up from the kind of dream he hadn’t had since he was fourteen and there had been an dark-haired, freckle-faced pirate on the Baratie serving as a temporary bus boy.
The feelings that well-remembered dream had roused in him had been uncomfortable at first. He found nothing wrong in liking men, even if he didn’t go around advertising the fact, but it had been Usopp, Usopp of all people. Poor guy, he’d treated him pretty badly for a few weeks until he realized that it was USOPP who he liked. Usopp, who was a great guy once you got past all of his walls and defenses. Usopp, who had that great mass of glossy black curls kept constantly hidden away and gorgeous skin and a clever set of fingers to match his quick-witted tongue. If he was going to fall for any of his male crewmates, it had DAMN WELL BETTER be the sharpshooter.
Acknowledging the attraction had been one thing. Figuring out just what the hell he was going to do about it had been another. He had a reputation to maintain for one thing. He loved women. All women. They were glorious, mysterious creatures who he only wanted to serve. Sanji knew there were some who held the opinion that he was shallow and only liked the pretty ones. That wasn’t true. While beautiful women made his heart beat faster, made him swoon, even the old aunties or the plain-faced cleaning women received his care and his concern. Women were treasures, intricate mysteries of kindness and cruelty, soft and harsh, far more fascinating than any man. Somehow, for all of his attentiveness, he never seemed to get anywhere with them, and that was almost enough reason to keep up his pursuit.
And yet he had dreamed that dream, the same dream he kept replaying in his head whenever there was nothing else to occupy his mind. The dream that had managed to replace his normal shower fantasy of Nami-san and Robin-chan and miles of golden beach whenever he stopped concentrating specifically on his two lovely crewmates. The longer he thought about this particular problem, the less of a problem it seemed. After all, the idiot and the damned cabbage head were blissfully happy together. He certainly wasn’t going to be getting any from his two delicate crewmates in the foreseeable future. Hell, considering how much Nami seemed to fawn over Luffy and Zoro’s recent hook-up, he might actually score some brownie points with her. Plus, there was no reason why he couldn’t still serve women the way he loved so much. He would just add a different kind of service to his plate.
Usopp, after all, understood his attraction to women. He’d heard all about Kaya, and the sharpshooter seemed to have an abstract, distant sort of longing for the young woman. It paralleled in some ways his own desire, if in a less forcefully expressed fashion. Usopp would be able to understand that he could care for him and still also adore women simply for what they represented. At least, this is what Sanji had told himself in the darkness of the bunkroom as he mused over the situation. He had yet to definitively determine the sharpshooter’s exact interest, and of course the future was always cloudy, impossible to know with any certainty, but he was resolved to try.
That was how the chef found himself standing in his domain, distractedly thinking about the ingredients he would need for his soup as he started to loosen the tie around his neck. He’d cooked naked once or twice before, but never under such circumstances. It was a tad disconcerting now that he had started to really think about it. Still, he did want to find out, if he could, how Usopp felt about him and he HAD been slightly jealous, a little hurt, when Robin had mentioned Usopp’s drawings and wondered if he’d posed yet. After all, his own body wasn’t that bad to look at. A bit gangly perhaps, all long legs and arms and fingers, but he had decent muscle tone and his butt was, if he did say so himself, an excellent if oft’ covered feature. So he stripped, clothes folded into a neat pile and placed on the end of the table, and fired up the stove.
He’d forgotten, of course, just how much bacon tended to spit at him, especially when it was cheap bacon, bought at a deep discount because Luffy didn’t care what quality his meat was, as long as there was plenty of it. After the third time his stomach had flinched from a hot grease spatter, he gave in and put on his apron. He probably looked ridiculous at the moment, but the bacon would be done by the time Usopp got to the kitchen and he could take it off. Of course, as soon as he thought that, the sharpshooter promptly arrived in the galley. He was a bit flushed, as if he had been running, and there was a large, flat piece of wood tucked under one arm that Sanji had never seen before. They stared at each other for a moment, Sanji half-turned with pink apron strings dangling between his legs and Usopp with a flush that was rapidly turning into a full-on blush as he adjusted his board.
What he really needed, Sanji decided, was a cigarette. He tried not to smoke over the food, but this situation warranted the soothing sensation of nicotine in his lungs. The short walk from the counter to his pile of clothes was somewhat awkward, what with his sudden need to edge along so that his bare backside was not exposed. Usopp seemed to be frozen on the spot, just tracking his movements with his eyes. It seemed as if crossing the few feet of the deck took one hundred years to Sanji but finally he was able to dig around for his matches and a cigarette. Sweet, sweet smoke filled his lungs and after one or two long drags, he summoned up his courage and his pride and returned to his counter with much more confident strides. A final pull, and he stubbed out his cigarette in the sink. Reaching around behind his back, he had just started to undo the bow that tied the apron around his waist when Usopp finally seemed to recover his wits.
“Wait!” He took half a step forward, his free hand stretched out as if to stop Sanji’s actions.
“Hmm?”
“L-leave it. It, it makes for an interesting contrast. Gives me some challenging shadows.”
“If that’s what you want. Are you going to get started?”
“Y-yeah.” Usopp hated that he couldn’t quite keep the stammer out of his voice, but for some reason the sight of Sanji naked except for his apron had affected him even more than if the cook had been entirely nude. Something about the way those apron strings hung down, caressed the backs of his thighs, hung along the crease of his buttocks when he shifted his feet. He’d known that he would react, had wisely brought his lap board, but just entering the galley and getting a good long look at the object of his desire…well, suffice it to say, he’d be appreciating the cover far sooner than he’d expected.
Usopp settled on the floor, sitting back about eight feet behind the cook, and rapidly covered his crossed legs with the wooden board. He already had paper mounted and ready to go and his colored pencils were in his pocket. That had been a good choice, considering that now he had the pink of Sanji’s apron to take into consideration for the drawing. Studying the blond, Usopp decided it was in his art’s best interest to start from the top and work his way down. Otherwise, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to control himself long enough to finish. He fished out a pale yellow and began.
With the bacon finished and the onions boiled, all he had to do now was stir all of his ingredients for the next fifty minutes or so. It would be a good batch of soup, this matelote. The eel had been especially fresh and he’d managed to buy some high quality vegetables. The bread he’d made that morning would go nicely, thick enough to be a good sop, but airy enough to contrast with the chowder. Maybe a wine as well, a good white for himself, Nami-san, and Robin-chan. Luffy and Chopper didn’t drink and the stupid swordsman could have whatever cheap grog was lying around. Usopp could have a glass of the wine as well, Sanji decided, since he had decided to try and give the younger man a shot. Desert was already made as well, chilling in the refrigerator. There was nothing left to do but watch the pot. And wasn’t there an expression about that? Not that he wanted his soup to boil, but he could feel the minutes oozing past with all the speed of the last bit of molasses trying to slide out of a jar. His back tingled constantly, the feeling of eyes focused on him both disconcerting and strangely erotic. He’d never been much of an exhibitionist before but something about this, just simply doing his work like normal – minus his clothing of course – yet posing as well, was really starting to turn him on.
Progress was actually happening! The colored pencils were practically flying across the paper as he immersed himself in his work. Sure it was Sanji he was drawing, a Sanji who was naked except for his Doskoi Panda apron, but it seemed that within moments of starting, his discomfort had disappeared. The chef really was a beautiful specimen of the male gender. Just like when he had been drawing his other crewmates, Usopp lost himself to the creative process. He noted the curve of Sanji’s spine, the way his muscles moved in his shoulders as he idly stirred his soup. The apron strings had been fun, hard to capture exactly as their position changed slightly every time the cook shifted. He was in the process of capturing the strong line of the chef’s right leg, admiring the definition of the muscles that stood out in Sanji’s lower limbs as strongly as Zoro’s did in his arms and torso, when he noticed. Oh God, why did Sanji have to shift? Why did his legs have to part just that much? Why didn’t the apron strings fall properly and shield his eyes? And why, oh why did Sanji have to have blond hair there as well?
The sudden intake of breath behind him could mean two things. Either Usopp had royally screwed up his drawing or he’d managed to notice the fact that he was half hard under this apron.
“Oi, everything okay back there?”
“N-n-n, yes!”
He heard the ‘no’ on the tip of Usopp’s tongue, and started to turn around. The sound of wood on wood seemed to echo in the small room as the sharpshooter dropped his lap board and rose to his knees. Usopp’s hands were both full of colored pencils but still he stretched them out to keep Sanji from completing his movement.
“Wait! I’ll lose the pose!”
But it was too late. The cook’s exposed back was now facing his stove and counter rather than the ship’s resident artist.
“Shit!”
It was Sanji who’d cursed, partially because he hadn’t even thought about the fact that he was supposed to be relatively still and partially because he’d forgotten about the fact that he’d been starting to pitch a tent with his apron. And then he murmured the expletive again as he caught sight of the front of Usopp’s overalls. The sharpshooter’s own eyes had been unerringly drawn to the cook’s partial erection. It was at just the right height after all, and unmistakable.
“Um, S-Sanji?”
That was one way of informing Usopp that he liked him and getting his own answer as well. Sanji shook his head slightly, bemused by his own thoughts, and reached down to grab Usopp’s wrist. He hauled the sharpshooter to his feet, surprised to notice that Usopp was shaking and refusing to meet his eyes.
“Hey. Hey!” The words came out more sharply than he’d intended and when Usopp flinched back from the hand he’d raised to the cup the other man’s jaw, Sanji almost let him go. But Usopp was murmuring, babbling nonstop under his breath, and the chef suddenly realized that his rather vocal appreciation of women had led the other to believe that he had no interest in the rougher sex.
“i’msorrydon’thitmeitwon’thappenagainsorrysorryishouldgonowsorry.”
“Usopp. Usopp stop talking.” Sanji let his thumb drift over, stroked it lightly across slightly chapped lip. “It’s okay.”
Usopp finally looked up, shocked into silence by the warmth in Sanji’s voice and in his thumb’s brief touch. It was all Sanji had been waiting for, and he gently pulled the sharpshooter closer. The kiss was a little bit clumsy and a little bit painful with the way the end of the pink colored pencil dug into Sanji’s rib, but it was also sweet and soft and melting and far more than even the love cook’s active libido had expected. Drawing away, Sanji glanced quickly at the paper still clamped to the flat piece of wood. Only partially finished, Usopp’s skill was still very evident. He hadn’t known his back looked like that, broad and strong and somehow not ridiculous beneath dangling apron strings. It was too bad he’d moved and prevented Usopp from finishing it. But he couldn’t feel too much regret. After all, he could always pose for him again.
“Sanji?”
There was a wealth of unspoken questions in that simple utterance of his name, but before he could even begin to answer, Usopp spoke again.
“Sanji? I think maybe your soup is burning.”
“The matelote!”
So stupid. It had only been a few minutes, but matelote was delicate. It had to be stirred continuously or the onions or the eel or both would stick to the side of the pot and begin to burn. If he hurried, maybe he could still save it. He was busy scraping at the bottom with his spoon when he felt the ticklish sensation of the end of one of his apron strings sliding along the curve of his ass. And then Usopp’s hand was there as he leaned up to whisper in the chef’s ear.
“So, um, after dinner, would you mind posing for me again? I’d really like to have a finished portrait to go with the others.”
He hadn’t thought the sharpshooter could be so brazen. Then again, he was sure there were many things he didn’t know about his fellow pirate. He already knew that he wanted to find out. After all, Sanji was a man who liked mysteries. And Usopp smiled as he turned to pick up his unfinished picture. It was a smile born partially from relief that he was not going to be beaten through the deck and partly because the possibility of being fucked through it was definitely starting to look up. As he reached the door, he studied the cook’s naked form once more. He really liked that ass.
“So, after dinner then?”
“Yeah.” The smile Sanji shot him was dazzling and Usopp felt his own lips stretch into a broad grin. Somehow he had the feeling everything was going to work out.
“I’ll help you complete your project then.”
Title: Ponder (yet another very bad attempt at word play)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3678
“Robin-chan told me about your project.”
“Sh-she did?”
“How come you haven’t asked me yet?
Usopp felt his mouth open but no words came out. There were quite a lot of reasons why he hadn’t asked the blond chef, had never intended on doing so. But that wasn’t important. What was more important was figuring out what he was going to say and if those really HAD been notes of confusion and dejection he’d heard in Sanji’s tone.
“Um, well…”
“I know they’re nude portraits and I’m not a damn exhibitionist like Luffy or the seaweed head, but I’m not ashamed of my body or anything.
It had INDEED been pain that he’d caught. Well, shit. Now Usopp was stuck. On the one hand, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt the cook’s feelings. On the other, the thought of having to look at Sanji, a naked Sanji because otherwise he just KNEW the blond would think that he thought he was too skinny or some other stupid thing, would be very difficult. He had more than a small crush on Sanji and sketching him, nude no less, would undoubtedly make a certain part of his anatomy react (the same way it reacted every time the chef had to save Luffy from drowning and stalked around the deck dripping wet, shirtless, those pants that were already tight positively CLINGING to his ass…and this line of thought was not helping him any). Usopp mentally girded his loins. What was the worst that could happen? He was pretty sure Luffy and Zoro wouldn’t let Sanji actually go so far as to kill him and he’d survived brutal beatings in the past. He just couldn’t bring himself to refuse the cook.
“It’s just, I thought maybe you wouldn’t want to. I mean, you know, stand around naked and get sketched by another guy. If it was Nami or something, I’m sure you wouldn’t care, but it’s me and it might be weird for you, maybe, and that’s why I didn’t wanna ask.”
A small frown creased the single visible curled eyebrow that so fascinated the sharpshooter. “You didn’t mind asking Luffy or Zoro.”
“Aw, they don’t count. You know Luffy doesn’t wear clothes most of the time unless one of us makes him and Zoro doesn’t care. Besides both of them are…” Usopp waved his hand from side to side. “…you know, together. Male nudity doesn’t mean anything to them.”
Although how both of them had so much self-control around each other, considering how often one or the other or both of them were bare, was a secret Usopp REALLY wanted to learn.
“Oh.”
Usopp sighed in relief. That seemed to have soothed Sanji’s fears or vanity or whatever it was that had made his voice taut when he had first approached him. Perhaps he’d be getting out of this one unscathed after all.
“I see. Yeah, those two are completely ignorant of how to behave on a ship when ladies are present. But I wouldn’t mind posing for you. You don’t have any normal looking body types yet. Luffy’s all stretched out and Zoro’s got more muscle than should be humanly possible. And you sketched Chopper in his reindeer form. So if you want, I’d be happy to be the ordinary male out of the bunch.”
Crap. There was no help for it. He’d have to draw Sanji now. And how the cook could EVER think he was ordinary, with that ass and those legs…Okay, he had to get away from that line of thinking NOW before he, as it were, spilled the beans. He’d just, yeah, do a really big drawing, or at least one big enough that he’d need a lap board to support his paper and that way he’d have some protection.
“O, okay. Thanks. That’d be really great.” Not really, but he didn’t have a choice anymore. “When do you want to do this?”
“How about now?”
“Now?!” He was SO not ready to handle now. “Er, don’t you have to make dinner or something in an hour? It’ll take longer than that.”
“If you don’t mind, I was thinking maybe you could just draw the back of me? I don’t move around too much when I’m cooking matelote, at least not once I’ve got all the ingredients in the pot. If we get started now, couldn’t you be finished by the time the soup is ready? Or is that not long enough for you?”
He could here the sudden challenge in the chef’s voice, and he wasn’t called The Great Captain Usopp for nothing. Even if it did mean he would probably be too sore to eat his supper later.
“It’s more than enough time for me. Why, one time I drew the entire court of the king of the Copper Isle, in pointillist style no less, in only twenty-five minutes. He rewarded me with – “
Sanji cut him off with a small smile. “Whatever. I’m sure you’ll manage. I’ll just meet you in the kitchen then.”
The cook sauntered off and Usopp couldn’t help but track the slight swaying of that black-clad posterior. Finally the door to the galley closed and he was able to break away, a slight sheen of sweat already forming beneath his bandanna. This was going to be very hard, in more ways than one.
Sanji grinned as he pulled the door to the galley shut behind him. He had felt Usopp’s eyes on him the entire way, confirming his suspicions that the ship’s resident sharpshooter and artist had been stealing glances at him for some time now. If he hadn’t known that Zoro and Luffy were quite single-mindedly focused on each other, he wouldn’t have put it past the damn marimo to have been the one doing all the ogling. That it was Usopp was an entirely different matter.
When he’d first met the Straw Hat crew, he’d thought Usopp was a complete waste of a human being. Even the crap swordsman had been better. But the Usopp that was presented to the world and the Usopp that the sharpshooter really was inside were two entirely different people. Sure Usopp, both sides of him, was often afraid, often told stories, often acted like a complete idiot. And he faced his fears, kept them all from going insane with boredom, and was far more caring and compassionate than his projected selfish demeanor. His opinion of the younger man had slowly changed until one morning he’d woken up from the kind of dream he hadn’t had since he was fourteen and there had been an dark-haired, freckle-faced pirate on the Baratie serving as a temporary bus boy.
The feelings that well-remembered dream had roused in him had been uncomfortable at first. He found nothing wrong in liking men, even if he didn’t go around advertising the fact, but it had been Usopp, Usopp of all people. Poor guy, he’d treated him pretty badly for a few weeks until he realized that it was USOPP who he liked. Usopp, who was a great guy once you got past all of his walls and defenses. Usopp, who had that great mass of glossy black curls kept constantly hidden away and gorgeous skin and a clever set of fingers to match his quick-witted tongue. If he was going to fall for any of his male crewmates, it had DAMN WELL BETTER be the sharpshooter.
Acknowledging the attraction had been one thing. Figuring out just what the hell he was going to do about it had been another. He had a reputation to maintain for one thing. He loved women. All women. They were glorious, mysterious creatures who he only wanted to serve. Sanji knew there were some who held the opinion that he was shallow and only liked the pretty ones. That wasn’t true. While beautiful women made his heart beat faster, made him swoon, even the old aunties or the plain-faced cleaning women received his care and his concern. Women were treasures, intricate mysteries of kindness and cruelty, soft and harsh, far more fascinating than any man. Somehow, for all of his attentiveness, he never seemed to get anywhere with them, and that was almost enough reason to keep up his pursuit.
And yet he had dreamed that dream, the same dream he kept replaying in his head whenever there was nothing else to occupy his mind. The dream that had managed to replace his normal shower fantasy of Nami-san and Robin-chan and miles of golden beach whenever he stopped concentrating specifically on his two lovely crewmates. The longer he thought about this particular problem, the less of a problem it seemed. After all, the idiot and the damned cabbage head were blissfully happy together. He certainly wasn’t going to be getting any from his two delicate crewmates in the foreseeable future. Hell, considering how much Nami seemed to fawn over Luffy and Zoro’s recent hook-up, he might actually score some brownie points with her. Plus, there was no reason why he couldn’t still serve women the way he loved so much. He would just add a different kind of service to his plate.
Usopp, after all, understood his attraction to women. He’d heard all about Kaya, and the sharpshooter seemed to have an abstract, distant sort of longing for the young woman. It paralleled in some ways his own desire, if in a less forcefully expressed fashion. Usopp would be able to understand that he could care for him and still also adore women simply for what they represented. At least, this is what Sanji had told himself in the darkness of the bunkroom as he mused over the situation. He had yet to definitively determine the sharpshooter’s exact interest, and of course the future was always cloudy, impossible to know with any certainty, but he was resolved to try.
That was how the chef found himself standing in his domain, distractedly thinking about the ingredients he would need for his soup as he started to loosen the tie around his neck. He’d cooked naked once or twice before, but never under such circumstances. It was a tad disconcerting now that he had started to really think about it. Still, he did want to find out, if he could, how Usopp felt about him and he HAD been slightly jealous, a little hurt, when Robin had mentioned Usopp’s drawings and wondered if he’d posed yet. After all, his own body wasn’t that bad to look at. A bit gangly perhaps, all long legs and arms and fingers, but he had decent muscle tone and his butt was, if he did say so himself, an excellent if oft’ covered feature. So he stripped, clothes folded into a neat pile and placed on the end of the table, and fired up the stove.
He’d forgotten, of course, just how much bacon tended to spit at him, especially when it was cheap bacon, bought at a deep discount because Luffy didn’t care what quality his meat was, as long as there was plenty of it. After the third time his stomach had flinched from a hot grease spatter, he gave in and put on his apron. He probably looked ridiculous at the moment, but the bacon would be done by the time Usopp got to the kitchen and he could take it off. Of course, as soon as he thought that, the sharpshooter promptly arrived in the galley. He was a bit flushed, as if he had been running, and there was a large, flat piece of wood tucked under one arm that Sanji had never seen before. They stared at each other for a moment, Sanji half-turned with pink apron strings dangling between his legs and Usopp with a flush that was rapidly turning into a full-on blush as he adjusted his board.
What he really needed, Sanji decided, was a cigarette. He tried not to smoke over the food, but this situation warranted the soothing sensation of nicotine in his lungs. The short walk from the counter to his pile of clothes was somewhat awkward, what with his sudden need to edge along so that his bare backside was not exposed. Usopp seemed to be frozen on the spot, just tracking his movements with his eyes. It seemed as if crossing the few feet of the deck took one hundred years to Sanji but finally he was able to dig around for his matches and a cigarette. Sweet, sweet smoke filled his lungs and after one or two long drags, he summoned up his courage and his pride and returned to his counter with much more confident strides. A final pull, and he stubbed out his cigarette in the sink. Reaching around behind his back, he had just started to undo the bow that tied the apron around his waist when Usopp finally seemed to recover his wits.
“Wait!” He took half a step forward, his free hand stretched out as if to stop Sanji’s actions.
“Hmm?”
“L-leave it. It, it makes for an interesting contrast. Gives me some challenging shadows.”
“If that’s what you want. Are you going to get started?”
“Y-yeah.” Usopp hated that he couldn’t quite keep the stammer out of his voice, but for some reason the sight of Sanji naked except for his apron had affected him even more than if the cook had been entirely nude. Something about the way those apron strings hung down, caressed the backs of his thighs, hung along the crease of his buttocks when he shifted his feet. He’d known that he would react, had wisely brought his lap board, but just entering the galley and getting a good long look at the object of his desire…well, suffice it to say, he’d be appreciating the cover far sooner than he’d expected.
Usopp settled on the floor, sitting back about eight feet behind the cook, and rapidly covered his crossed legs with the wooden board. He already had paper mounted and ready to go and his colored pencils were in his pocket. That had been a good choice, considering that now he had the pink of Sanji’s apron to take into consideration for the drawing. Studying the blond, Usopp decided it was in his art’s best interest to start from the top and work his way down. Otherwise, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to control himself long enough to finish. He fished out a pale yellow and began.
With the bacon finished and the onions boiled, all he had to do now was stir all of his ingredients for the next fifty minutes or so. It would be a good batch of soup, this matelote. The eel had been especially fresh and he’d managed to buy some high quality vegetables. The bread he’d made that morning would go nicely, thick enough to be a good sop, but airy enough to contrast with the chowder. Maybe a wine as well, a good white for himself, Nami-san, and Robin-chan. Luffy and Chopper didn’t drink and the stupid swordsman could have whatever cheap grog was lying around. Usopp could have a glass of the wine as well, Sanji decided, since he had decided to try and give the younger man a shot. Desert was already made as well, chilling in the refrigerator. There was nothing left to do but watch the pot. And wasn’t there an expression about that? Not that he wanted his soup to boil, but he could feel the minutes oozing past with all the speed of the last bit of molasses trying to slide out of a jar. His back tingled constantly, the feeling of eyes focused on him both disconcerting and strangely erotic. He’d never been much of an exhibitionist before but something about this, just simply doing his work like normal – minus his clothing of course – yet posing as well, was really starting to turn him on.
Progress was actually happening! The colored pencils were practically flying across the paper as he immersed himself in his work. Sure it was Sanji he was drawing, a Sanji who was naked except for his Doskoi Panda apron, but it seemed that within moments of starting, his discomfort had disappeared. The chef really was a beautiful specimen of the male gender. Just like when he had been drawing his other crewmates, Usopp lost himself to the creative process. He noted the curve of Sanji’s spine, the way his muscles moved in his shoulders as he idly stirred his soup. The apron strings had been fun, hard to capture exactly as their position changed slightly every time the cook shifted. He was in the process of capturing the strong line of the chef’s right leg, admiring the definition of the muscles that stood out in Sanji’s lower limbs as strongly as Zoro’s did in his arms and torso, when he noticed. Oh God, why did Sanji have to shift? Why did his legs have to part just that much? Why didn’t the apron strings fall properly and shield his eyes? And why, oh why did Sanji have to have blond hair there as well?
The sudden intake of breath behind him could mean two things. Either Usopp had royally screwed up his drawing or he’d managed to notice the fact that he was half hard under this apron.
“Oi, everything okay back there?”
“N-n-n, yes!”
He heard the ‘no’ on the tip of Usopp’s tongue, and started to turn around. The sound of wood on wood seemed to echo in the small room as the sharpshooter dropped his lap board and rose to his knees. Usopp’s hands were both full of colored pencils but still he stretched them out to keep Sanji from completing his movement.
“Wait! I’ll lose the pose!”
But it was too late. The cook’s exposed back was now facing his stove and counter rather than the ship’s resident artist.
“Shit!”
It was Sanji who’d cursed, partially because he hadn’t even thought about the fact that he was supposed to be relatively still and partially because he’d forgotten about the fact that he’d been starting to pitch a tent with his apron. And then he murmured the expletive again as he caught sight of the front of Usopp’s overalls. The sharpshooter’s own eyes had been unerringly drawn to the cook’s partial erection. It was at just the right height after all, and unmistakable.
“Um, S-Sanji?”
That was one way of informing Usopp that he liked him and getting his own answer as well. Sanji shook his head slightly, bemused by his own thoughts, and reached down to grab Usopp’s wrist. He hauled the sharpshooter to his feet, surprised to notice that Usopp was shaking and refusing to meet his eyes.
“Hey. Hey!” The words came out more sharply than he’d intended and when Usopp flinched back from the hand he’d raised to the cup the other man’s jaw, Sanji almost let him go. But Usopp was murmuring, babbling nonstop under his breath, and the chef suddenly realized that his rather vocal appreciation of women had led the other to believe that he had no interest in the rougher sex.
“i’msorrydon’thitmeitwon’thappenagainsorrysorryishouldgonowsorry.”
“Usopp. Usopp stop talking.” Sanji let his thumb drift over, stroked it lightly across slightly chapped lip. “It’s okay.”
Usopp finally looked up, shocked into silence by the warmth in Sanji’s voice and in his thumb’s brief touch. It was all Sanji had been waiting for, and he gently pulled the sharpshooter closer. The kiss was a little bit clumsy and a little bit painful with the way the end of the pink colored pencil dug into Sanji’s rib, but it was also sweet and soft and melting and far more than even the love cook’s active libido had expected. Drawing away, Sanji glanced quickly at the paper still clamped to the flat piece of wood. Only partially finished, Usopp’s skill was still very evident. He hadn’t known his back looked like that, broad and strong and somehow not ridiculous beneath dangling apron strings. It was too bad he’d moved and prevented Usopp from finishing it. But he couldn’t feel too much regret. After all, he could always pose for him again.
“Sanji?”
There was a wealth of unspoken questions in that simple utterance of his name, but before he could even begin to answer, Usopp spoke again.
“Sanji? I think maybe your soup is burning.”
“The matelote!”
So stupid. It had only been a few minutes, but matelote was delicate. It had to be stirred continuously or the onions or the eel or both would stick to the side of the pot and begin to burn. If he hurried, maybe he could still save it. He was busy scraping at the bottom with his spoon when he felt the ticklish sensation of the end of one of his apron strings sliding along the curve of his ass. And then Usopp’s hand was there as he leaned up to whisper in the chef’s ear.
“So, um, after dinner, would you mind posing for me again? I’d really like to have a finished portrait to go with the others.”
He hadn’t thought the sharpshooter could be so brazen. Then again, he was sure there were many things he didn’t know about his fellow pirate. He already knew that he wanted to find out. After all, Sanji was a man who liked mysteries. And Usopp smiled as he turned to pick up his unfinished picture. It was a smile born partially from relief that he was not going to be beaten through the deck and partly because the possibility of being fucked through it was definitely starting to look up. As he reached the door, he studied the cook’s naked form once more. He really liked that ass.
“So, after dinner then?”
“Yeah.” The smile Sanji shot him was dazzling and Usopp felt his own lips stretch into a broad grin. Somehow he had the feeling everything was going to work out.
“I’ll help you complete your project then.”
