2.
Sanji checked his watch and hummed nervously as he fussed with the collar of the display maniquin's suit.
Friday was still three days away but director Roronoa was coming back today to be measured for his pants. Sanji hadn't been able to take proper measurements the first time when the man had been wearing those awful sneakers. So the director was coming back, and Sanji had been worrying about this appointment all day.
Of course he was!
He'd looked like such a stammering idiot the entirety of the director's last visit - it was humiliating! He didn't want the man to think he was just some adoring fan… Well he was, but he was also stylish, witty and sauve. Sanji was determined to make a better impression this time around. He was wearing his favorite blue button-up shirt and his good Italian shoes - he'd even bought dog treats. There wasn't any way he could be more prepared.
So why was he still so anxious?
"So who's this 'special fitting' on the calendar, hmmm?"
"Not now, Bon."
Sanji did his best to edge politely away from his nosy coworker, but the clueless man kept ruthlessly invading his space. "You've been strange all day! You spent your entire break fixing your hair in the men's room, and you've only smoked one cigarette!"
Groaning, Sanji retreated to the back room with Bon hot on his heels. "So is he your new squeeze? Have you asked him out? You better not be planning to grope him while you're doing the pinning! You naughty boy!"
"Oh my god, shut up!" Sanji flushed as he remembered all that warm, tan skin stretching over those solid muscles… Muscles he'd love to touch. It was funny how that damn green hair and nasty scar were twisted into appealing and endearing features in his mind. The whole man was growing on Sanji like a weed and he just couldn't get the strange director out of his brain.
Bon's hand waving in front of Sanji's eyes brought him back to the present. "Darling, you obviously need to get laid. If a routine fitting has you this horny that's just too sad! I have a few numbers I can give you. You'll feel so much more relaxed after some good sex."
"NO! It's not that!" Sanji snapped defensively - feeling guilty about his not-so-platonic thoughts about the director's body. Was it so bad that he could appreciate a good man when he saw one? Especially when that man happened to be a famous, rich and talented director? Sanji refolded the selection of charcoal-colored slacks that were going to be used for the fitting. Everything had to be just right. As he lightly patted the fabric, Bon raised a meticulously plucked eyebrow, obviously expecting further explaination. Sanji dropped his voice to a hiss, "He's famous, okay?"
"A celebrity?! And you didn't tell me?! Sanji! Beautiful people are my life!"
"Well he's not exactly beautiful…" Sanji's mutter faded into terrified silence as the shop bell chimed.
Bon clucked his tongue scoldingly at Sanji's hesitation and jogged out to the sales floor. "Hello, how are you! Oh! What a sweet doggie!"
Sanji spied around the doorframe to the back room only to see Bon patting the excited lion-dog without a care in the world. For a brief moment of jealous irritation, Sanji wished the damn beast would bite the flamboyant man on the ass. It just wasn't fair how easily Bon could get along with everyone and everything.
The blonde was filled with conflicting feelings when he saw the director.
Roronoa had only upgraded his look slightly from homeless drug-addict to poor college student. It was appalling how this one man could lack any fashion sense whatsoever, yet he still had the nerve to look appealing in those bad clothes. Grey, acid-washed jeans were just the right amount of tight around fit thighs and a trim waist; a dark blue shirt with a childish, toothy dinosaur on the front clashed with the unusual green of his hair and stretched across defined pectorals; his shoes were faded, black, canvas sneakers - completing his age-inappropriate look. Adding insult to injury, the fine, leather, dress shoes the director was holding weren't scuffed in the slightest.
Why the hell did this man dress like a hobo when he had shoes like that?!
"I have an appointment with Sanji?"
Hearing his name uttered in that deep voice did unhealthy things to Sanji's pulse. He clutched at the doorway as he tried to reason with himself - there was no way a celebrity director would have any romantic interest in a plain guy like him. He needed to stop thinking attracted thoughts. Now.
"Sanji! Your customer is here!" Bon looked him right in the eye as the blonde tried to silently make his escape into the stock room. He boldy waved Sanji over, drawing the director's attention to his presence - damn that shitty, pink-suit-wearing asshole!
Fixing a trained smile on his face, Sanji did his best to look casual as he walked onto the floor - not at all a creep who peeked around corners thinking inappropriate thoughts about deep voices whispering romantic things or broad chests. "Hey there."
The director smiled at him warmly, undoing the small progress Sanji had made in talking himself out of having a fruitless crush. His brown eye sparkled as if he was genuinely happy to see Sanji, and the blonde felt his insides turn to goo. Roronoa gave a small wave with the hand holding Chopper's leash. "Hey."
Bon smirked at Sanji's pleading eyes and waved goodbye.
"Well I'll let you boys get hot!" Sanji jerked like he'd been shocked - reddening from his neck to his ears, "My name is Bon if you need another pair of hands, handsome!"
He didn't dare look up. Sanji knew his face was flaming red right now. Damn Bon and his shitty innuendos to hell! But what was worse was that with his coworker gone, he was completely alone with the director on the shop floor - except for the dog of course.
"Is he always like that…?"
Sanji blinked and looked up. Had his coworker's rude comments gone over this guy's head? "You mean Bon…?"
Roronoa nodded with a grin and Sanji snorted, "Yeah… He's weird."
The director chuckled, "I would say unique. Do you guys actually sell suits in that color?"
"Unfortunately…" Sanji sighed. Those horrible colors and patterns were a crime against good taste.
"I'm glad that I get to see you today." The director took a step closer and Sanji's eyes widened.
"Y-you are?" He was honestly not expecting that the director would have remembered his name - much less be happy to see him. But why…?
"Yes. I needed to talk to you about Friday."
Sanji's heart sank. This was when he'd be politely uninvited. There was no way a bunch of close friends - celebrity friends - would want a nobody like him around.
He'd have to lie and say he wasn't that disappointed.
Sanji chewed on his lower lip in distress and waited for the bad news.
"I don't have your phone number."
Sanji blinked. Had director Roronoa just asked for his phone number?! As in he was planning to text? Or call?!
"What…?"