Excuse Me Sir; Are You Just Going to Throw That Away? (Random Plotbunny)
As they lay stretched out beneath the covers together, Sanji knew that it shouldn't have been necessary to remind himself that he loved Ace very much, that it was obvious to all upon their ship that Ace would happily worship Sanji's very shadow had it become an official religion. He knew he shouldn't have to drum it into himself that the principal of Ace bringing him breakfast in bed was indeed very thoughtful and endearing.
Only it would have been, if Ace didn't always insist upon cooking it himself. On himself. In bed.
It wasn't so much the bacon fat stuck between the sheets that was the problem. Oh no. Why, oh why did Ace have to insist upon using his arse as a toaster?
Never being one to waste food, Sanji faithfully reached for the butter.