Get What You Want

Get What You Want


Sanji sat back to survey his work, wiping his hands clean on a towel. He reached behind himself to undo the knot of his apron and tugged it off, draping it across the back of a chair. He spun back towards the counter and gazed at the now fully decorated cake.

It was a new recipe of his, and he’d had it on his mind these past few days. It was eating at him, since he’d been craving chocolate for weeks now, and he really wanted to try it out. It was an entirely chocolate cake, in every way, shape, and form. Firstly, it was a three-layered chocolate cake, with melted fudge in between each layer. Then, the main coat of frosting was milk chocolate, and thoroughly spread across the top and sides of the cake in a nice, thick layer. The cake had dark chocolate frosting decorations covering it, as well as a dribble of chocolate sauce for the final topping.

It looked absolutely delicious.

Feeling rather proud of himself, Sanji cleaned up what little mess he made and put away all of his leftover ingredients. He brought the dishes over to the sink, but just rinsed them off, not feeling like doing the dishes yet. It was mid afternoon, and he’d need to prepare dinner shortly anyways. Once cleaned up, he wiped down the counter and moved the cake over to the table, where he placed it in the middle, arranged carefully so that the light caught it just right.

Stepping back to admire his masterpiece, he smiled. The only thing left to do was taste it, and that was the best part.

He fleetingly thought of the girls, and whether or not to bring out a slice for them. His immediate answer was yes, with his inner self already shouting ‘Mellorine, Mellorine!’ and prepared to prostrate himself at their feet, but he paused. Walking over to the cupboard, he pulled out a few plates and laid them on the counter. He picked one of them up, as well as digging a knife out of a drawer. Once back at the table, he proceeded to cut a quarter of the cake, and then cut that into thirds.

'I’ll have one first, just to see if it’s good enough for the palates of my sensual Nami-san and delectable Robin-chan. It wouldn’t do to serve them anything unsuitable.' Nodding to himself, he placed a good sized slice of cake onto the plate, setting the knife down on the table.

Sanji determinedly ignored the little voice in his head that was saying that nothing he created could be bad, and mercilessly squashed the one that was screaming that he just wanted a piece because he was a sucker for chocolate, and could never resist it. He’d even (though grudgingly, he admitted to himself) go for chocolate over a beautiful lady.

Maybe.

Rarely

Occasionally.

Okay -sometimes-, but -only if- he hadn’t had any, for at least a month. Maybe two, but that’s it. Seriously.

Picking up the plate, he walked back over to the counter, practically salivating over the thought of how his morsel would taste. Pulling a fork out of one of the drawers, he cut a bite right off of the end of his slice, and popped it into his mouth.

Sanji’s eyelids slid closed in bliss, and he tilted his head back and it hit a cupboard with a solid ‘thunk’. He stayed there, chewing slowly and savoring his bite, and didn’t notice the galley door open and Zoro stride in, heading for the wine-racks.

The swordsman was on his way to the supply pantry and some good booze when a small noise distracted him. Turning, he looked towards the fridge and froze, jaw dropping in shock. Sanji was standing there, practically -whimpering-, and looking like he usually did post-orgasm. His face was slightly flushed, and his posture completely relaxed. Every now and then, in between bites, he’d sigh in contentment, eating the cake exceptionally slowly, so as not to miss any small bit of flavor that was possible to coax out of it.

Zoro watched him eat the entire thing, and lick the fork clean, pink tongue flashing between the prongs and getting at all of the frosting still stuck to it. The cook tossed the fork in the sink when he was done, and leaned towards his plate.

'Oh, no. He’s not. He won’t. He’s not gonna lic –' Zoro’s brain promptly stopped working as Sanji licked a long swipe straight up the plate, cleaning all of the chocolate crumbs and swirls of fudge until the plate was pristine. Up and down, in and out; Zoro stood mesmerized as he watched Sanji’s tongue lap up every last bit, booze forgotten.

He finally looked away when Sanji was done, and groaned almost silently, glancing down at the tent in his pants. He was hard, and frustrated, and irrationally jealous of a piece of cake.

Sanji brushed his hands together briskly, looking around and wondering if anyone would notice if he had another piece, when he finally noticed his lover. He was about to ask what the other man was doing there, when he took a double-take, a smirk quickly spreading across his features.

“Got a little problem there, marimo?” he asked, all faux innocence and wide, blinking eyes. Zoro glared at his lover, and strode across the intervening space to pin him against the countertop.

“Yes, I do. And it’s all. Your. Fault.” Zoro growled, pressing their groins together and emitting a near silent moan at the contact, gripping Sanji’s hips and tugging him closer still. Sanji moaned in agreement, and twined his arms up around the swordsman’s neck, pulling his head down and meeting in a kiss. Tongues quickly entangled, darting around and exploring familiar mouths.

Zoro could taste the chocolate dessert on his cook, marveling at how it mixed perfectly with Sanji’s taste. It was sweet, but not too sweet, and even seemed to drown out the normal tang from the cigarettes the cook was always smoking. Zoro thought it was an improvement, though he’d never voice it, knowing it would only piss Sanji off. Instead, he decided to show his appreciation another way, kissing Sanji as well as he knew how, putting as much feeling as he could behind it while his hands caressed him, eventually sliding down to cup his ass.

Sanji smiled into Zoro’s mouth, understanding the unspoken message. He returned the kiss full heartedly, pressing himself even closer and running his hands along Zoro’s back muscles, one hand tangling in that green hair and deepening the embrace.

'I think I ought to bake cake more often, if this is the result,' he thought to himself smugly, as he gave himself over to Zoro and let his lover steer him down towards their room. 'After all, a little something sweet every now and then never hurt anyone.'