The Real Thing
Some people took shots.
Some people practiced in front of mirrors.
There were those that spent months in mental preparation, drafting scripts obsessively until the perfect one was chiseled out and then there were those that splashed their faces with cold water and charged boldly forth armed with nothing but luck and courage.
He himself needed an extra smoke before hand.
So he should have guessed (since he was asked, after being unwittingly locked in the galley, by a familiar voice that concealed itself by turning off the lights and breaking the porthole to make an enigmatic escape) that Usopp would continue to use some such method to bolster his bravery, even after having successfully asked him to bed.
And he could have probably anticipated the form it would take, had he given it a few seconds of thought.
As it was, Sanji simply hid a surprised smile behind his hand as he removed the cigarette from his mouth before sliding his suit jacket off smoothly and tossing it on the couch arm.
Without a word, he took a seat on the sofa and leaned in to kiss the Sogeking's cheek.
He smiled though as his lips left the wood and he couldn't resist murmuring, "I've never slept with a hero before."