A/N:
Hi all, I was really planning to post this on Zoro's birthday, but after watching the US election tonight, I feel like some people (like me) might need a bit of distractions. So happy early birthday to Zoro.
For those of you who have read aevium's The Little Deaths, you might find that there are quite a few similarities in the settings, and that's because this is a spin-off fic for it because I itched so badly for an update for it that I had the urge to write my own... until I realized I can't write real-world modern AU, so this turned into a completely different story. I asked aevium for permission to post this, and she graciously agreed! :)
This is also my first fic... ever, so be nice. I'm a wimp.
Oh, one more thing. Some Canadians, like me, are used to spelling words with an extra "u", like labour, colour, neighbour, or rigour. Don't worry about it too much. It's just the way we are.
My Life for Yours
Chapter 1
Sanji is running away from his problem. More accurately, he is kicked and driven away from his problem, quite literally. Zeff is thoroughly convinced that this is not the little eggplant's problem because "brats like him should let adults do their job and stay out of the way", but as far as Sanji can see, this is even less his adoptive father's problem anyway.
A lady who claims to be his biological mother, the one who allegedly left Sanji in a dungeon cell to be starved to death when he was 6, has shown up at the staff entrance of the Baratie demanding to see her son after being nonexistent right up until 5 years ago. Ever since Sanji's 16th birthday, when someone showed up at the restaurant claiming to be a representative of Sanji's biological parents for the first time, they've brought nothing but trouble. None of the "We want Sanji back, and here's what we can offer" like civilized people, but attempt after attempt to kidnap Sanji, to nullify Sanji's adoption papers, to find (or fabricate) evidences of abuse, or to try to close down the restaurant altogether. He already owes his life and more to Zeff, and there is absolutely no reason for the old man to be burdened with more problems that come with Sanji's past, let alone risking his restaurant, his dream and life's work.
Plus, Sanji really doesn't think his mother abandoned him in cold blood, nor does he believe she has any part in their misery the past few years. A sweet lady like her (at least her voice is sweet) wouldn't do such things. He just knows. He just needs to talk to her to hear the real story, but Zeff hasn't even given him the chance to see her face before kicking his ass into the passenger seat of Ace's car along with whatever belongings of his that Patty and Carne could gather in the 10 minutes when Zeff was holding off the poor woman at the door.
"Hey asshole, go back! I need to talk to her!" Sanji yells, wrestling with the locked door on the passenger side and threatening to kick it off.
"Don't bother. I won't slow down even if you break my door. You don't wanna risk injuring your precious hands jumping off my car, right?" Ace throws the blond a sideways glance and cocks an eyebrow.
"Why the fuck would you even listen to the shitty old fart?! You came all the way up here to be with Marco for the weekend, right? You just got here! You can't possibly be planning to drive all the way back home without even seeing him just because someone who has SHIT TO DO WITH YOU showed up at OUR door!"
"Well she spells trouble for you, and you're my ex fuck buddy, so that's enough reasons for me. Plus, I see Marco every weekend. He won't mind." Ace smirks.
"Ex-... Don't fucking call me that!" the blond snaps, feeling his face heat up in anger. Of course he's happy for Ace to have finally found what apparently is the love of his life, but the fact that he, "Sanji the heart breaker" of all people, was dumped by the damn freckles because of it still hurts more than a little after just two months, not that Ace even admits to ever being in a proper relationship with him to begin with. "And how would you know she's trouble? That's for ME to decide, AFTER I speak to her!"
"Come on idiot, what do you think she came here for? Dinner? After all the trouble she went through all these years to try to frame Zeff as a kidnapper?" the freckled man snorts.
"You don't know if it was her!" Sanji protests.
"Right. It can't be her. She's female." Ace mocks with an eye roll. Sanji glares at the older man, who gives him a shrug. Ace may think it's ridiculous to assume her innocence based on her gender, but Sanji knows, in his bones, that women don't do evil things. The freckled bastard would never understand.
After a while of tense silence, Ace sighs, "Look, just forget it for now. Leave it to Zeff. There's nothing much you can do about it now that you're not there-..."
"I can kick your ass." Sanji raises an eyebrow, the one currently visible.
"And what? Drive back without a license? You don't even know where the gas pedal is." the freckled man chuckles. Sanji has a minor but shitty problem with his eyesight that makes it illegal for him to drive. Not that he ever sees any reason in it stopping him. In fact he's pretty sure it'd be safer for him to drive than Ace, who's actually narcoleptic and might fall asleep in the middle of driving if something excites him, but the shitty old fart has made sure that nobody would teach him how to drive over the years. "And Zeff would just kick you out again some other way without letting you see her. She might not even be there anymore. Just spend the night at our place, relax, and keep your mind off things you can't help. Luffy will be happy to see you."
Still fuming, Sanji lets out a sigh of frustration, throws himself back in his seat, and lights himself a cigarette. It has always been like this with the old geezer and the damn freckles ever since Sanji brought Ace back to the Baratie to meet the old man a few years ago. So what if Ace is a couple years older than him and was his first boyfriend (although the asshole freckles never called it that) and taught him a large chunk of what he now knows about life in general? That still doesn't give him the right to treat the blond like a kid who can't handle his own problems.
Worse yet, he's always teaming up with the old geezer at the task, and they never even got along! The old man hates Ace even more than he hated all Sanji's ladies. It's strange, as if the old fart knew Ace was going to break his heart one day as soon as they met. Zeff always threatens to kick him out of the restaurant... except when they're on the topic of how "the little eggplant is still wet behind the ears."
Sanji's cell phone rings from the pant pocket of his chef uniform, putting a stop to his internal rant. Shit, he hasn't even had a chance to change after the dinner rush before being kicked out. He curses loudly, fishes the phone out with his free hand, and answers without a glance at the screen.
"What?" Sanji yells into the phone. He's not usually this rude on the phone in case he's talking to a lady, but today he couldn't care less.
"You're fired and kicked out of my place as of today, shitty eggplant. Find yourself a new place place to stay and a new job. I'll personally kick your sorry ass if you show up anywhere near my restaurant within the month." Zeff's voice says flatly over the phone.
"You shitty old fart, have you lost your brains? How you gonna run the place without me for that long?" Sanji snaps into the phone. It's not the first time Zeff "fires" him and kicks him out. This has happened whenever lawyers or social services came by to be specific, so he's not quite worried about that. The part that worries him is that Zeff wants him out of the way for at least a month. Looks like this time there's even more trouble.
"You're a hundred years too young to be worrying about me, string bean! Just keep your pathetic ass out of trouble." The old man promptly cuts the line after that.
"So how long is he kicking you out this time?" Ace asks.
"A month. Shit. Marco's probably not OK with me crashing at your place for that long, right? Me being your ex and all..." Sanji feels a tinge of guilt. In the past, whenever Zeff kicked him out, he just crashed at Ace's and Luffy's place without a second thought. He and Ace had an on-and-off, no-strings-attached, and (according to Ace) purely physical relationship for years. Although there were times when Ace was romantically involved with others in between their breaks, none of them was serious enough to have a problem with him staying over. But this Marco guy's completely different. Sanji can tell just how serious the stupid freckles is about him, and he doesn't want to be the cause of any problems between them.
"We'll figure something out once we're there. But damn, sounds like it's a bigger mess than usual." Ace sighs and goes back to driving in silence.
The drive from North Blue, where the Baratie is, to Ace's apartment in East Blue is about 3 hours by the highway. They're adjacent cities with a number of little towns and villages in between. Sanji could take the train back in the morning if he really wanted to find out what's going on, but the last time he went against Zeff's order and returned he kicked the health inspector in the face for sneaking a bug into their soup, making problems worse for the old man. The time before that he started a foul language shouting match, which turned into a kicking match, with Zeff right in front of the social services lady, who was less than impressed. He vowed to keep his short fuse out of the way since then.
By the time they arrive at 1 in the morning, Luffy's already dead asleep, for which Sanji is more than a bit grateful. It's always nice having someone who appreciated his cooking as much as the boy, but cooking for a bottomless stomach after a full day of work isn't something he always looks forward to. Ace helps him move his bags into the apartment, not bothering to keep their noise down. Luffy's a heavy sleeper after all.
"Take my room. You look like you need it." Ace stands at the door to his room beside Sanji, giving him a light push on the back. "Sleep it off," he adds casually, making the blond glare at him. Usually at this point Sanji would "sleep it off" by being dragged into bed with the damn freckles and being fucked senseless for the night. That option's clearly off limit now. Not that Sanji's having trouble moving on from his past ambiguous relationship with Ace. It's just that times like these tend to remind him of the perks he used to have.
"I meant literally." Ace clarifies, looking amused.
"I know that, asshole! Goodnight." Sanji stomps into the room and closes the door behind him. He quickly looks through the bags Patty and Carne packed for him on the go and admits that they're getting quite practiced at the job as he finds everything he'll probably need for the next week or so. They even remembered to pack his set of knives and spice chest in those hectic 10 minutes, a reminder of just how much trouble he's been causing the old fart over the years. He takes a quick shower and tucks himself into Ace's bed. He closes his eyes, trying not to pay attention to the familiar scent of the blankets or to eavesdrop on the soft chatters coming from the living room. Ace must be calling Marco to explain the situation now. Maybe he'll be kicked out tomorrow, but he'll worry about it in the morning when he has more energy.
He supposes he'd just have to try this "sleep it off" thing the literal way for once.
Sanji has a few hours of sleep full of nightmares of being chased by social services workers and wakes up before sunrise the next morning, thanks to his internal clock and years of getting up early to prep for the breakfast rush. By the time he finishes his morning routines and comes out of room, the apartment's becoming more visible in the light of the paling sky outside the windows. He makes his way to the kitchen as quietly as possible, trying not to wake Ace who's still snoring loudly with a hand and a foot hanging off the back of the sofa. He opens the fridge and starts on breakfast. Ace's fridge might not always be stocked with everything he needs for a complete meal, but there's never a shortage of meat. If he couldn't find anything else, neither of the brothers would complain about an all-meat breakfast anyway. Today he's lucky enough to find potatoes for some hash brown.
The blond is sure that the sound of sizzling meat is the official alarm clock in this apartment. As soon as he gets to that part of the cooking, Luffy dangles himself from Sanji's shoulders telling him how much he missed his food, and him, of course, and Ace is once again on the phone, most likely trying to work out a more suitable sleeping arrangement for Sanji. He really doesn't have to go that far for the blond. If nothing else works out, Sanji's perfectly fine with finding a cheap hotel room somewhere for the month. He has enough saved up over the years from working at the Baratie after school hours and not having to pay rent. He's in charge of paying for any living expenses besides food and utilities, and he has to buy cigarettes and his own clothes because Zeff's taste in clothing is shit, but that's not much.
Sanji finishes his portion of the breakfast pretty quickly and lights himself a cigarette. He always finishes before the brothers when it comes to meals, and he'd always sit back with a cigarette and enjoy the view as the two devour the fruits of his labour like they haven't eaten in years. But today only Luffy's doing that. Ace is telling Sanji about a friend of Luffy's who might be able to lend him a place to sleep for the month when there comes a soft knock at the door. Sanji can tell it's Marco just from the way the stupid freckled face pulls into a grin at the sound. The blond feels a new wave of guilt wash through him. The guy must've been worried about Ace's ex staying over, and that's probably why he drives three hours to get here first thing in the morning. Suddenly, he's not sure if he should be sitting or standing, or what kind of expression he should have when he sees the guy. In fact he's sure he shouldn't be there at all. He contemplates what he should say to ease the guy's worry as quickly as he can as Ace makes his way to open the door. A friendly gesture would be a good start, he decides.
"Hey." Sanji awkwardly stands up from his seat and puts on a nervous smile, removing the cigarette from his mouth. Marco replies with a nod of acknowledgement. Sanji's met the guy before and knows that Marco has permanent bags under his eyes, but is he imagining it or are they especially dark today? Did he stay up all night worrying about Ace possibly cheating on him? It's not like Sanji has anything to hide, but any normal person would be at least worried in a situation like this, right? Especially given Ace's not-so-innocent history up until recently.
"Want some breakfast? We have plenty left." he offers and instantly regrets his words. Shit, he doesn't mean to sound like he owns the place! He's just a guest. Marco should be the host! What the fuck is he doing offering hospitality?!
"It's fine, yoi. I ate before I came." Marco answers in a bored voice, not making any motion to move from the doorway. The guy always has an expression similar to boredom, so it doesn't necessarily mean Marco's trying to be cold to him. However, that line of reasoning is not working for Sanji's panicked mind at the moment. He crushes his half burnt cigarette on an empty plate and stares down at the table.
"Sorry, I... I'll move out today. I can stay in a hotel or something until I find a place." he says quietly.
"What? No, you don't have to. Marco's here to pick me up for the weekend, so you can have my room until I come back. Here's my key. After that we can probably find you a place. Don't make a face like that. Staying over at Marco's was the original plan for me anyway." Ace says with a reassuring smile, handing Sanji the key to the apartment and turning to his boyfriend, "OK let's go. My bag is still in the car."
Well that's one way to solve the problem. Sanji still feels like shit for the intrusion, but at least Marco doesn't have to worry about his freckles being under the same roof as an ex without supervision. He mutters some more thanks and apologies as the couple wave him and Luffy goodbye and close the door. When he sits back down at the table, Luffy's already on his last few plates of sausages.
"Why do you have to move out?" the boy asks, spitting bits of meat on the table. Sanji tried over the years to kick the rule of not talking while eating into both him and his brother, in vain. Sanji pauses to light himself a new cigarette and ponders how he can best explain this to Luffy. It's probably a lost cause anyway. The boy's utterly clueless when it comes to human interactions.
"Because I'm not dating Ace anymore. He's with Marco." the blond starts, anticipating more stupid questions to follow.
"So?" and more comes.
"So I can't stay in the same apartment as Ace. Marco will be worried." Sanji tries. He'd have said jealous, but that's not an emotion Luffy understands very well.
"About what?" and another.
"About Ace cheating on him with me or things like that."
"You're gonna make Ace cheat?"
"Well no, of course not."
"Then just tell Marco that."
"He won't believe me with just that. It'll still be awkward."
"Why? Are you lying?"
"No, Luffy. I honestly won't even think about trying anything with Ace, but with these kind of things it's better to just remove myself." Sanji sighs. Maybe he should've stuck to avoiding this whole conversation from the start.
"But I want you to stay here."
"I know you do, but Marco probably doesn't, and if Marco doesn't, Ace won't either." With that, Luffy stops eating and puts on an expression of extreme concentration, as if trying to work out what Sanji just said in his head.
"So Marco's a bad guy?" the boy concludes, still looking confused.
"No no! Marco has the right to not want me here because he's Ace's boyfriend. I'll just move. It's no big deal."
"It's a big deal! I won't have your food! Ace probably wants your food too!" the boy's face is now serious with protest.
"I'll still come by to cook for you. I just can't stay here at night. I'll be pretty free while I'm here, so I can come by quite often." Sanji reassures him and watches as Luffy relaxes.
"Oh, then it's fine." Luffy shrugs and returns to the last plate to finish it off.
"Sanji, make me a lunch box! One with extra meat!" the boy demands as soon as Sanji starts collecting the empty plates to the sink. The blond's not exactly surprised. It's a regular occurrence.
"You just finished breakfast! And don't you ever get constipated with the amount of meat you eat?" Sanji fakes some irritation. He doesn't mind being given cooking tasks at all today, considering how much of a useless bother he's been to both Zeff and Ace in the last 12 hours. Also Luffy's stomach can handle anything. It's silly of Sanji to worry about his digestive track. "You're going out too? What's the plan?" he asks with mild interest as he starts on the cooking task again.
"I'm gonna go fishing. You wanna come?" Luffy says with a bright smile. Sanji should've known better than to ask about plans. Considering Luffy, the plan's probably as elaborate as "get out, get in trouble" or "get out, bring back random stranger's problem". Normally the blond would tag along just for fun, but not today. He doesn't need more problems today.
"You do that then. I'll find something to keep myself occupied." the blond says as he reheats the pan.
"You know, you can count on us more." the boy says in his rare quiet and semi-serious tone as he watches Sanji pull out a whole chicken from the fridge.
"Thanks Luffy, but really, living somewhere else for a month is not a big deal. Plus Ace is already looking into a place for me so I don't have to stay at shitty hotels with shitty food and no kitchen." the blond says as he skillfully debones the chicken.
"I don't mean staying here. If you need help with anything else, just let us know, and we'll help." Luffy continues. Ah yes, Luffy never goes for anything but the root of the problem, that greedy ambitious monster of a brat. Sanji's hand stops on a bottle of spice in his chest as he considers the offer. It's not like he can just drag Luffy back to the Baratie to beat up whoever dares to harass them. If that were the case, he wouldn't even need Luffy's help. He's perfectly capable of kicking any thug's ass himself, not to mention Zeff and the other cooks can too. The strangest thing is that despite being harassed continuously for 5 years, they still haven't been able to find out who Sanji's biological parents actually are. They always seem to go to great lengths to make sure no one finds out their identities. Even the lawyers, the social workers, and the corrupt health inspectors don't seem to know who's paying them. In any case, he doesn't see how Luffy, or any of his crazy friends that Sanji knows of, can help him with that.
"I'll keep that in mind." the blond settles on the answer and works to finish the lunch box as quickly as he can. As helpless as he feels about his situation, he still deeply appreciates the gesture from the boy.
"Call me before you get in trouble." Sanji says as he hands the extra large extra meaty lunch box to Luffy. The boy seems satisfied with the size of it, straps it to his back, and waves goodbye. Well, by the look of things, making food for Luffy is as far as he's going to get on the usefulness scale today, which still leaves him feeling like a completely useless waste of space.
OK, he's a little edgy today, way more edgy than any other time he was sent here by Zeff. He supposes he knows why. He's not as welcome here in his second home anymore. Ace will have a place for him to freeload by the time he comes back after the weekend, and if not, the blond can just move to a hotel. It's all good, but the fact that he can't do anything about his housing situation or his mess back at the Baratie at the moment is making him more irritated than what cigarettes can soothe. Maybe he should... as Ace said, "sleep it off"? He does know a few bars in the city that Ace brought him to over the years, but it feels wrong to just take his problems out on a lady. They always deserve better. Well he could go to a gay bar instead. He could find out where those are. Nothing google can't solve... No. He's never done that with a stranger and isn't about to start. The only guy he's had sex with is Ace. He doesn't even know how to pick up a guy. Surely it's different from wooing a lady?
Speaking of wooing a lady, Sanji remembers a place that can always make him feel a little more useful whenever he comes to East Blue. He grabs his phone, looks up the name, and starts typing.
My beloved Nami, I miss you dearly. I'm in town again, so if you need me for anything please do not hesitate to let me know. As always, your wish is my command. - Sanji
Almost as soon as he hits the send button, the phone buzzes with a reply.
Sanji, nice timing! Usopp called in sick today, and I don't think Coby can handle Friday night dinner rush alone. Will you be able to fill in for him tonight? With pay of course. - Nami
Nami, my love, you are so generous! Of course I'll fill in for him. Does Usopp's shift start at 3? - Sanji
6. Closing shift. Thanks, Sanji~ - Nami
No problem at all! By the way, will I be able to see your angelic face there tonight? - Sanji
And the phone stops buzzing. Sanji waits, looking at the screen, and after 15 minutes he decides that maybe Nami is busy at the moment. Even if she carelessly forgets to reply him later (Careless Nami is still so endearing!), he would find out at his shift all the same. No need to trouble her with more texts. He starts cooking a simple lunch for himself and a more elaborate meaty dinner to be left in the fridge for when Luffy gets home later that night, if he makes it back home. Usopp is part of the wait staff, so he won't be cooking tonight. Better get his fix now. With that in mind, he looks through the shelves for scraps he can use for dessert.
The dinner rush wasn't that bad for a Friday night, or maybe it's because East Blue is a much smaller, quieter town than what Sanji's used to. It's now 11pm, just an hour before closing time, and the restaurant is completely empty. Coby got off by 9 since by then the worst of the rush was already over, so Sanji is by himself in the silent dining hall, smoking and listening to the cooks as they start their clean up early. His beautiful angel Nami would probably deduct half of his pay AND refuse all his date proposals for the next month if she finds out that he's been smoking inside her precious restaurant, but he's unusually restless today and can't step outside since he's the only one there. He sighs guiltily. Nami hasn't shown up in the end, and Usopp's sick. Maybe he should find out what the poor guy's sick with and go visit him with food tomorrow.
The front door swings open with a jingle of the clear sounding bell. Sanji clumsily puts out his cigarette in a panic. His dear Nami would definitely have his head for smoking in front of a customer. He grabs a copy of the menu and walks over as quickly and as gracefully as he can when a green haired punk closes the door behind him and stands near the entrance, waiting to be shown to a table. Sanji frowns slightly behind the privacy of his curtain of hair as he catches sight of the man's clothing.
This particular restaurant, the Tangerine Tabbies (or the Tabbies for short), might not be as high end as the Baratie and is more casual in its dress code, but Sanji's sure he wouldn't even be comfortable being outside his own bedroom in what this man is wearing, let alone in any restaurant. His faded white buttoned wide neck t-shirt is probably a size or two too small, slightly deformed from prolonged stretching. His dark green sweatpants are loose and worn, accompanied by boots in the same condition and colour. Above the sweatpants and around the waist of the old white t-shirt is a leaf-green coloured... cummerbund? But it looks wider and more elastic. Besides, who wears a cummerbund with a t-shirt and sweatpants? A dark green bandana that seems to match the fabric of his pants is tied around the bulk of his muscular left bicep, reminding Sanji of members of motorcycle rider gangs. The only items on him that Sanji remotely agrees with are three golden rectangular bars dangling from the lobe of his left ear.
"Anywhere you like, sir," he says with a professional smile. The man obediently takes the closest table but continues glaring at Sanji for the entire time it takes him to walk up to the table across the empty dining hall. The man's steel gray eyes are strong and piercing, and Sanji has a feeling that they could feel a whole lot colder if the man wanted to look more threatening. Sanji braces himself as he arrives at the table. If this punk wants to cause trouble at this hour, he will have to kick him regardless of what kind of hell his angel Nami will to give him afterwards.
"Would you like a drink to start with?" the blond asks softly as he passes the menu to the man, but the man keeps glaring at him, his straight dark green eyebrows drawn together in a slight frown in the middle of his exposed forehead. Did he dye his eyebrows to match his hair? For someone who puts so little effort into clothing that seems like an awful lot of work, but surely nobody has naturally green coloured hair, right?
"Sir?" he prompts again and seems to snap the man out of his thoughts. The man opens the menu. "Beer." he adds tersely in a slightly husky baritone voice.
"Right away." he answers, flashing the man another smile before turning to grab a glass of beer from the bar. At least it doesn't seem like the punk's looking for trouble. Good. It's his first shift for his dear Nami in a long time, so he doesn't want to mess it up already by kicking a customer. When he returns to the table, the man has just closed the menu and is glaring at it with a deeper frown than before. He looks up as Sanji puts down his glass of beer and frowns even deeper.
"Sorry, can you put that back?" the man asks, gesturing to the beer. Sanji wants to laugh. No, he can't put it back. Yes it's the cheap beer from a bottle instead of the beer tap in the Baratie, but he still can't just pour it back into the bottle and put the cap back on. He struggles to keep the smirk of amusement from creeping up his face. If this were at the Baratie he would've snapped at the man already, but he has to keep up the good customer service for his beautiful Nami's restaurant.
"Is there a problem, sir?" he asks, putting effort into keeping a straight face.
"I forgot to bring my wallet. Is there any way I can undo my order for the beer?" the man says without a trace of embarrassment, as if there is nothing wrong with the situation and it's the most natural thing to be asking. Sanji pauses at that. At the Baratie they'd just let the man finish his beer and kick him out, but regardless of how sweet and generous his beloved Nami is, she's not the type to give out free beer in any situation. However, the decision is made for him when the man's stomach growls. He is hungry. He probably wanted to order some food too.
"The beer's on the house," the blond says, making a mental note to pay for it himself. "Finish it first. I'll be right back," he adds, staying just long enough to make sure the man is starting on the beer instead of standing up and leaving. Then he leaves the table to go to the locker room at the back of the restaurant and takes out and microwaves the dinner box he made for himself earlier in the afternoon out of an attempt to keep his restlessness at bay.
"Here, I forgot that we get employee dinner here and brought my own. Eat it." he says, sitting himself down beside the man and lighting a cigarette. Now that the man's not a paying customer, he probably doesn't need to put up that professional front anymore. He planned to bring it back to Luffy as a last night snack, but this is fine too, as long as it doesn't go to waste.
The man stares at the box with a frown, and for a moment Sanji figures that the frown is the only expression the man's able to have, until his thin lips pulls to one side of his face in a crooked smirk. Damn, for someone with such horrible fashion sense that smile (or smirk, whatever) looks way too good not to be a waste.
"How did you manage to forget that, genius?" the man muses as he opens the lid.
"Shut up and eat, you ungrateful bastard. I don't work here often." he snaps, blowing a puff of smoke. The man doesn't seem to be bother by it and answers "I know" quietly before starting on the food. He must be a regular customer then. Good thing Sanji didn't have to kick him.
Sanji lets the man eat in silence, aside from the sounds of food being devoured in a complete lack of table manners, sitting back in his own seat to watch the man through his curtain of hair. He has normal eyesight in both of his eyes individually, but he can never get them to focus on the same object. Using both eyes at the same time usually gives him a headache, so he styles his hair to block out the vision in one eye and switches sides periodically to avoid losing either eye for lack of use. His eyebrows curl in the same direction too instead of mirroring each other (but that was honestly not why he wanted to have one eye covered at all times). Sometimes he thinks it's as if he had two right eyes that belong to two different people. There are inconveniences that come with his condition, not being able to drive being one of them (only according to Zeff), but it comes with some perks too, like staring at people without being noticed.
The more Sanji studies the man, the more he can't help but think how much of a waste that face and that body are on someone... like that. High and defined cheek bones, high straight nose bone, strong and sharp jaw lines that meet the base of the chin at just the right width, cold steel coloured eyes that always seem to be intensely focused on something invisible, long straight eyebrows that perk up in a sharp peak above the edge of each eye before tailing off, under short messy grass-green hair a square exposed hairline that recedes to almost right angles on either side of the wide prominent forehead before coming down each side of the face as sharp narrow sideburns. His features seem so harsh individually, but all fit together in an air of gentle perfection, accompanied by the smooth tanned skin and a complete lack of facial hair.
Sanji puts out his spent cigarette on the table, letting his tired eyes gloss over the rest of the man's body. No, he's not "checking out" a customer, especially not a guy. He's not a creep. It's just that his eyes need to be on something, and the man just happens to be sitting in front of him. His body is muscular, clearly built from years of training, yet graceful and balanced. The three buttons on his t-shirt carelessly undone, exposing his defined collar bones that highlight the cords of strong neck muscles as they pull and tighten as he eats. One of his large hands much thicker than Sanji's own cradles the dinner box while the other skillfully twists the fork in the pasta.
It's incredibly difficult to take a guess at the man's age, as Sanji thinks he could be anywhere from 15 to 30 years old. Is he a little teenager who spends way too much time in the gym and has such luck in his genetic body type that he looks much older? Or is he a fully grown adult whose smooth skin, lack of facial hair, fashion sense, and table manners make him look younger? Either way, Sanji's sure the lucky bastard will probably still look the same after 10 years. Oh, what a waste! Imagine what he can look like with the most basic fashion sense and proper etiquette! Sanji can't help but let out a sigh.
"'S wrong?" the man asks with his mouth full.
"Life." Sanji lies. It's not a complete lie. He could be in a better mood to appreciate the man's good looks if he weren't so frustrated with his own life today. He quickly forces that thought out of his head. There's nothing he can do about all of that now, so might as well keep it out of his mind.
"You're closing soon, right?" the man asks, catching the last piece of minced meat with the fork and licking it up before putting the lid back on the box, not caring to wipe away the sauce around his mouth. Sanji just realizes that the man has finished the whole box while he's in thought.
"In about 15 minutes." the blond answers looking at the clock. The last hour or so does tend to get lonely when he's the only one out of the kitchen with no customers. He's glad to have some company, even if it's from a non-paying customer and a complete stranger who's slightly on the quiet side. "I should start cleaning up. You're welcome to hang around until I have to lock up." he adds, standing up to lock the front door and starts putting up the chairs and mopping the floor as he wishes that the man isn't in a hurry to leave.
The man watches him intently from the table in silence, his lips slightly pinched and his eyebrows still drawn in a subtle frown. Maybe Sanji should feel creeped out for being watched by a stranger, but oddly it doesn't bother him in the least. In fact he's quite thankful because it seems to ease his mind and makes him feel at peace for the first time in the last day or two.
"I have some good booze at my place. Wanna come have a drink after you're done?" the man asks after a while in an emotionless tone. Sanji stops in his track at the question. Is he... getting picked up by a guy? He turns around to take a proper look at the man's face, which remains expressionless except the small frown that's ever present over the pair of steel gray eyes, confident and piercing, but honest and unassuming. Maybe the man is just the inexpressive type, or maybe this is how it's supposed to go between men? And now that he has made eye contact, he'd have to answer. Shit. What should he do?
Sanji panics, his muscles freeze in place, and his thoughts race. This is a stranger, not Ace, not a lady (because no lady is ever a stranger to Sanji), a complete stranger! He's never done this before. For all he knows this man might be a serial killer setting him as the next target. OK maybe that's a bit far fetched... Should he say no? Ace's words echo in his head, "Sleep it off." Dammit, he wants to. No, he needs to. He mentally tangles his hands in his hair and screams in frustration, which comes out as a subdued slow sigh as small as he can manage. Oh fuck it. He doesn't care anymore. If this man is dangerous, he'd just have to kick his shitty ass when it comes to that. He takes a moment to let the tension drain out of his posture before answering.
"Sounds good. Give me a few more minutes."
