Work Text:
Sanji hates Valentines Day with a vengeance.
Not because it's a holiday created by the greeting card and candy industry to sell their wares in an otherwise short and lackluster month, but the fact he is inundated with gross men who, more often than not, remember the day before the shitty holiday that they desperately need a dozen roses for their significant other.
"You gotta have something, dude!" A desperate man, the fifth one of the evening, pleads.
"All of them are called for," Sanji states, his hands pressed firmly against the wooden countertop to curb the desire to send the man flying through the window of Seis Fleurs. The amount of money he owes Robin for windows is on an end of year tab and he’s already on the tab for three windows for this year.
"Excuse him!"
Sanji is abruptly pushed to the side as Nami takes his place.
"Nami-swaaan!" He smiles, thrilled, as she grins eagerly at the hopeless customer. He happily switches with his angel sent from above to relieve him of the blight standing before him.
Nami glances at him, a playful quirk of her lips, and he already knows the deal.
"I heard you needed flowers for your girlfriend, and we do have roses in the back but..." Nami frowns, glancing at the back room almost nervously.
"But?!"
"Well," says Nami, her voice softer, almost a whisper. "I'm not really supposed to tell you about them. They're reserved but," she leans closer, "To be honest, I don't think the order is going to be picked up."
"I'll take them!"
"Eeeeh," Nami frowns. "I'm not really allowed to..."
Sanji is already mentally counting down.
3...2...1.
"I'll pay anything!" He’s already pulling out his wallet.
It’s instantaneous, like a supernova. Nami straightens up and grins, her fingers already punching numbers in her calculator. "Anything?"
"Yes!"
"Great, that'll be 100 beri," says Nami. "And of course, you'll want a card to go with, so that'll be another 20. Also -"
Sanji is already heading to the back while the flabbergasted man is attempting to reconcile the fact that he's buying flowers at an approximate 150% markup.
In the backroom are hundreds of roses, commonly red - which never go out of fashion, but there are others; white and yellow ones for the less traditional couples, as well as large, sweetly scented white lilies and a variety of tulips and carnations remaining. Many of them are, indeed, reserved for clients for pick up and some are awaiting delivery for tomorrow, but there's still a good stockpile of unclaimed flowers ready to be sold at exorbitant prices for the procrastinators on the actual holiday. Nami was being generous with only the 150% markup.
Sanji grabs a dozen brilliant red roses, long stemmed ones, all carefully dethorned, with petals a lustrous red like a carefully crafted cabernet sauvignon. He must have prepared thousands of bouquets but with each and every one, he images the recipient of his flowers - their eyes widening in surprise, their mouths upturned into delighted grins as brilliant as the sun, and yeah, he doesn’t like the holiday, but he loves his job.
He adds a few stems of sweetly scented baby's breath, a complement to the roses while filling up the empty space which creates the image of a fuller bouquet, and nods in satisfaction. He curls a ribbon around the bundle, white, to add contrast to richness of the roses, and carefully places them in a plain white box. Sanji can only hope the flowers do justice to the beauty that is receiving the bouquet.
"Alright, so the total is 150 beri," says Nami. "This includes the roses, the card, and the service fee since it is the day before Valentines day after all."
Huh, not so generous after all.
The man groans but slides her his credit card.
Nami hands Sanji the Valentine’s Day card, the generic: With Love From, on it, but further down, the man’s scrawled handwriting with declarations of eternal love. Cheesy but at least he wrote something else along with the prewritten message; Sanji has to give him credit.
He watches Sanji tuck the small card securely in the bouquet, relief clear on his face. “Thank, man.”
"You better treat her well, not just on Valentines Day, but the rest of the year," replies Sanji as he ties a red velvet ribbon securely around the box. Nami shoots him a glare as she prints out his receipt. He adds with a strained voice, "Sir."
"I will!" The man says eagerly as he writes his name on the receipt. The way he reverently holds the large box in his arms almost makes Sanji want to believe him.
"They make it too easy," says Nami. Satisfaction is exuding nearly palpably from her as she raises her arms and stretches. It's almost midnight and the plan is to crash in the back, where the futon and air bed are, so that they can get up early: Nami to handle the front along with Robin for procrastinators and Sanji and Franky to deliver bouquets, all to happy couples and significant others for the entirety of the day.
"You two can go back home for the evening," says Robin as she walks in from her office. She's still cradling a phone on the crook of her neck. Her eyes are warm and relaxed despite the hectic day, so she’s probably on the phone with Franky. "He's stopping by later, so I'll lock up for you."
"I couldn't possibly leave a lady on her own in the middle of the night," Sanji retorts, frowning.
"Yeah, Robin, we can stay until Franky arrives," says Nami, her fingers tapping furiously on the work computer, calculating the day's receipts.
"It really is fine," says Robin. She suddenly grins, mischievously and delighted. "Franky says he's planning an early Valentine’s day for me when he arrives, anyway."
"AAAOUUU," agrees Franky, his voice booming and clear over the receiver. Sanji and Nami share a look, knowing they have to back away. The couple may not show it outwardly, at least Robin anyway, but they are disgustingly in love with one another.
"Alright," Nami says with a knowing look as she closes the register for the day. "Do try and get some sleep.” She pauses, her cheeks slightly reddened, “Or at least go easy on him, Robin. We need Franky to help with deliveries."
"I make no promises," replies Robin easily.
The door rings open once more, and Sanji is about to brace for another forgetful loser except the vibrant blue hair is a dead giveaway. Vivi pokes her head from the doorway, her face flushed and her breathing heavy. She must have been running. "Knock knock."
"Vivi!" Nami skips over to her girlfriend, her arms outstretched to embrace the heavily bundled girl. “You didn’t have to pick me up!”
Vivi eagerly captures the other girl in an embrace, holding her close. "I wanted to be the first one who said happy Valentine’s day to you.”
And with that statement, the old grandfather clock tucked to the side of the room gongs.
Vivi presses her forehead against Nami's, smiling happily. "Happy Valentine's Day, Nami."
"Happy anniversary, Vivi," replies Nami before pressing a kiss to her long time girlfriend's lips. They part slightly, lips still touching one another, and they look at one another; delight and awe in their eyes, as if it’s still a surprise that they found one another. A beat later, and they're giggling and hugging one another tightly.
Robin and Sanji share a glance, satisfied expressions on their faces.
"I'll see you all tomorrow," says Robin as they stand near the door, layering clothing on for the cold weather outside. “Bright and early.”
"It won’t even be bright,” says Nami with a laugh as she wraps her scarf around an already heavily clothed Vivi. The girl is from the desert and easily catches a chill. In retaliation, Vivi stuffs Nami's gloved hand in her pocket along with hers.
"See you later," says Sanji as he holds the door open for them to exit. "Get back safely."
"Of course," replies Nami. "Tell Usopp we said hi!"
"Will do," Sanji waves to them, watching them depart. Nami and Viv’s arms are looped together, their voices gradually growing softer before their figures disappears along the horizon. He departs in the opposite direction of them, finally lighting a cigarette with a pleased hum.
Sanji stuffs his hands in his own pockets, the length of his stride widening as the blustery winds blow along the darkened neighborhood. He only walks in silence maybe for ten minutes, his hard earned cigarette warming him the process, before he can hear the thrum of techno music blaring.
The night is still young for Ivankov's club: Level 5.5.
Sanji crushes his cigarette as he walks in past the line, the bouncer, a large, burly man with an impressive beard wearing a tight hot purple tanktop and even tighter leather pants, a scarf his only form of protection from the chill, shoots him a flirty grin. Sanji rolls his eyes but still nods in acknowledgement.
The noise is nearly deafening and the confines of the upbeat club resemble a sauna. He's already unraveling his scarf and unbuttoning his jacket as he walks further into the club, artfully dodging grabby hands.
Ladies, men, and everything in between gyrate and frolic on the dance floor, laughing as they grab one another, spilling drinks and articles of clothing in the process. The amount of times he's offered a dance or drink run in the dozen, but Sanji has already perfected his ability to gracefully decline their half-drunken antics.
Sanji is a man on a mission.
His goal is in sight.
"And now, for the lovers - " Boos and cheers ring out in the crowd. "- And the ones who are hoping to get lucky tonight!" The party goers erupt into pleased and enthusiastic howling. "A favorite track of mine!"
Crazy Rainbow blasts in the speakers and the neon lights somehow become brighter and the walls are shaking in the club as the dancing is pumped up by ten.
Sanji loops his arms around the DJ, buffering him between himself and the turn table. "Hey."
Usopp pushes his headphones so that they rest around his neck as he turns his head around slightly to smile at Sanji. He has to yell over the sound of the music, "You smell nice!"
"And you smell like alcohol and sweat," Sanji replies as he burrows his face against the soft, slightly sweat dampened curls of Usopp's hair. Ah. He smells like coconut and patchouli, and Sanji feels the bunched muscles along his shoulders unravel.
He smells like home.
"I thought you liked how I smelled," Usopp pouts, attempting to get away, which he succeeds only slightly until Sanji's arms tighten around him.
"It's not as nice as Robin or Nami's smell," says Sanji as he snuffles closer, pressing wet, open mouthed kisses against the damp bare skin of Usopp's neck, his fingers twitching against the bare skin of his stomach as he shivers under Sanji's mindful ministrations. His boyfriend is wearing only a pair of exceedingly short black yoga shorts, rainbow colored suspenders, and sandals. Someone on Ivankov's staff must have bought a new nail polish because his toes are a fluorescent green. Usopp has great taste in music, but horrible taste in fashion. "You smell not horrible."
"Uh huh," says Usopp wryly, his body subconsciously swaying to the beat of the bass, the curve of his ass pressing against the insistent hardness behind him. "Just...not horrible?"
"Tolerable, even," admits Sanji as he spins Usopp around, and slams their mouths together, his tongue eagerly tracing supple lips before diving inside to taste coke and rum. Usopp melts against him, moaning into his mouth as his fingers dig into the thick material of Sanji's favorite sport's jacket.
Finally, they pull apart, their chests heaving and want thrumming through their blood. The song has ended and house music is currently playing.
Before Sanji can further enjoy making Usopp melt in his arms, an obnoxiously loud voice booms in the club.
"Oh my!" Ivankov has a mic in his hand and is standing on the stage near the DJ booth. He resembles a disco ball with his fully sequined leather get-up on and his purple afro covered in glittering crystals. “Look at the love birds! Mmmfufufu!”
The crowd cheers. Usopp is blushing and obviously flustered, he’s still at work after all, but he still fiercely keeps his grip around Sanji.
Ivankov wags a finger, “Now, Sanji-boy, you need to be punished for distracting our handsome DJ!”
“He was mine first,” retorts Sanji loudly, tugging Usopp away from the DJ booth. Usopp claps hands with Luffy as he hands over his DJ booth. “Thanks again for coming in early, Luffy!”
“Shishishi, no problem! Have fun tonight, you two!” Luffy calls as he takes Usopp’s place.
"Are you ready to party, everyone?!"
The crowd cheers, hands in the air.
“Wait, come back!” Ivankov attempts to jump down from the stage but Luffy already has a track on and it’s a rager. The partygoers of Level 5.5 enthusiastically resume dancing. When Ivankov does make a leap off the stage, he inadvertently ends up moshing in the crowd.
“Awesome!” Luffy cheers, fist raised above his head as he turns up the volume even higher until the walls are trembling like they’re dancing along with the beat.
They’re in the backroom, the only place in the club where Sanji can hear himself think, and the one place where he can press Usopp against the wall without having an attentive audience. Usually.
They quickly resume where they left off, their mouths pressed slowly, just a press of skin against another one, laughter in their eyes at the thrill of seeing one another because they finally have alone time. January and February is a busy month for Sanji, he’s been working around the clock in flower shop in prep for Valentine’s Day. Similarly, Usopp has also been preoccupied with his day job as an instructor for Arabasta Yoga Studio, Vivi had introduced them before she had started dating Nami, and it had been exceedingly busy with new members taking advantage of their holiday membership packages. Also, Usopp argued, he had the ‘I can’t be home alone’ disease since Sanji had been away at Sies Fleurs to prepare for Valentine’s Day, often overnight, so he had taken extra shifts DJing for Level 5.5. Needless to say, they rarely saw one another except for the quick cuddle in bed before they fell asleep or the even quicker handjob in the shower before they rushed off to their respective day jobs.
Eventually, desire wins out, and Usopp grabs the open lapels of Sanji’s thick coat and forces him closer. They kiss, desperate and wanting, with the occasional click of teeth like nervous and overenthusiastic teenagers. This only causes them to smile and chuckle between kisses.
“I thought you weren’t coming home tonight,” gasps Usopp as he reluctantly pulls away, his lungs screaming for air.
“Change of plans,” says Sanji as he presses his lips against the tip of Usopp’s long nose and then leans down to press small pecks against his full bottom lip as they both regain their breath. Sanji mentally berates the loser men who actually get to spend Valentine's with their significant others while he runs around the city doing deliveries. “I have to get up early tomorrow. Well, technically today.”
Usopp huffs, biting down on Sanji’s cheek - more of a hard nibble than anything else. Sanji swats him in the rear, which turns into him feeling him up.
“I missed you,” Sanji finally says out loud. After tomorrow (technically today), and he can finally have the next couple of days off.
“Normal schedule after today?” Usopp presses a kiss against the red spot on Sanji’s cheek.
“Normal schedule,” affirms Sanji.
Usopp pushes Sanji backward, removing his jacket and scarf during the process, until the back of his knees hit a plush surface. He tips over, his arms around Usopp’s middle, and he falls onto of the plush couch in the break room with the brown-skinned man on top of him.
While the motif of the break room is similar to its owner, shades of purple and white with more than enough sequins to fill a pageant, he has to admit the couch is absurdly comfortable. He sinks into it’s soft confines with a groan while Usopp straddles his hips, his ass pressed down on his half aroused cock.
“I like where this is going,” says Sanji, an eyebrow raised in interest.
“This is where it ends,” says Usopp, ever the practical one. “You need to sleep before you spend the whole day delivering flowers.”
Sanji pouts.
Usopp snuggles up against Sanji’s side, rubbing his nose against the side of Sanji’s face like a large overgrown cat, their legs tangling together, before throwing a thick mauve throw over them. “I’ll treat you after work.”
“What kind of treat?”
Usopp huffs, a blush staining his cheeks as he presses a kiss against Sanji’s temple. “A good treat for your hard work. A proper Valentine’s day present.”
“If I fall asleep in the middle of this treat as a result of exhaustion, soldier on,” says Sanji.
Usopp sighs, because he knows the other is being completely serious, but he loves this absurdly perverted side of him. “Will do.”
---
It’s the day after Valentine’s Day when Sanji opens the door to their shared apartment, exhausted, he wants nothing more than to cuddle with his boyfriend in their bed. Maybe he could talk him into a foot rub?
What he didn't expect was for Usopp to be practicing yoga on the floor of their apartment, in a boat pose - his shapely rear on the floor on his bright blue yoga mat, his body contorted to resemble a V with his spine curved backwards and his shapely thighs and legs straightened up in the air perpendicular to his upper body. All while naked. "Too tired?"
Suffice it to say, all weariness dissipates as Sanji pounces.
"Fucker," Sanji growls as he attacks Usopp's grinning lips. He's on top of the nude man, balancing himself above the other with one arm while his free hand joins Usopp's as he slides his hands around his stiff member.
“Guess you aren’t too tired after all,” says Usopp as he presses his hand against Sanji’s crotch, his fingers skimming against the straining cloth. “And you’re late.”
“Fucking latecomers,” Sanji groans as Usopp’s hands finally unzip his fly and reach inward to cup the full bulge of Sanji's arousal. “I work while you have fun.”
“Hardly,” Usopp says while giving Sanji’s clothed cock a firm squeeze, chuckling as it twitches under his ministrations. His chuckles turn into a whimper when Sanji, in retaliation, squeezes his cock, his callused thumb swiping against the leaking head of his cock. He’s so wound up, all this waiting for Sanji, that he comes with a shudder, gasping hard in Sanji’s eager mouth.
Usopp is still reeling from his orgasm when Sanji hefts him close and reaches behind him. His fingers, still stained with Usopp’s release, skim the soft skin of his rear before dipping between the firm globes of his ass. His entrance is slick with lube and twitch eagerly against the rough pads of his fingertips.
"Shit," Sanji’s breathing deepens as he dips his fingers inward. Usopp's hole, wet and already stretched, eagerly engulf his fingers as he pushes them forward until he has three fingers up to his second knuckle in the hot, pulsating channel. He utters softly, satisfied and incredibly aroused, “Happy Valentine’s Day to me.”
"I got bored waiting for you," says Usopp, whimpering as he wiggles against Sanji’s fingers, his dick twitching in renewed interest.
That’s a lie. Usopp spent the evening, naked and artfully arranged on various parts of their apartment's furniture, eager for Sanji to walk in. He certainly gave a show to the pizza delivery guy who witnessed his acrobatic antics from the apartment over thought a window blind that Usopp forgot to shut. He only realized it because he received a sheet of pizza coupons underneath their apartment door with the pizza guy's number scribbled eagerly on top.
Usopp moans against Sanji's mouth, low and filthy, when his fingertips brushing against the tender gland of his prostate.
“Hold up.” Abruptly, Usopp shoves Sanji away, who squawks indignantly, and keeps pushing him until he’s sitting atop of the couch.
“What the fuck, Longnose?” He only uses this when exceptionally mad and/or horny.
“We’ll get to that,” Usopp replies as he tugs Sanji’s pants and briefs down until he can reach inward to free Sanji’s erect and sorely neglected member of its confines.
Sanji breath hitch.
Usopp leans forward toward Sanji’s thick length, his eyes staring directly at Sanji’s with uncontained mirth, his lips moist and parted slightly.
“Hurry up, you shitty tease,” Sanji curses, his fingers firmly gripping the material of the couch.
“Nah,” Usopp says, pulling away, and before Sanji can cuss up a storm, he bolts upward, slamming their mouths together. His tongue pushing persistently pass Sanji’s lips and eagerly lapping inside his mouth. Sanji follows because he is a weak, weak man to Usopp and his lush mouth.
Usopp pulls away, licking his lips. “Now I will.”
And then he ducks back down, the tip of his nose rubbing sensually against the curve of Sanji’s pelvis, and hums gleefully as the tip of his cock smears precum across his tongue as he easily slides his mouth down Sanji’s arousal. He alternates between lapping and sucking on the throbbing member while his fingers gently cup Sanji’s balls, rolling them delicately between his fingers. His other hand is pressed against Sanji’s abdomen to limit his movements.
“Fuck!” Sanji gasps, his chest heaving and damp with sweat, his hands reaching forward until he can run his hands through the thick curls on Usopp’s head. He doesn’t tug, oh no - he runs his fingers fingers through the soft spirals until he can grip Usopp’s skull and encourage him further.
Usopp sucks on the head of his cock, his drool sliding down the erect shaft, before he swallows him whole - the tip of Sanji’s penis hits the back of his neck, his plush pink lips stretched tight around Sanji’s girth.
There is a fire in Sanji’s belly, and he is so close, and he wants and - and -
Sanji bites the inside of his mouth when Usopp pulls away again. He is going to lose his mind at this rate.
“Not yet,” Usopp is breathing heavy, his voice hoarse and thick with want as slowly picks himself up from the floor with shaky knees. “That was only a warmup.”
“Fucker,” Sanji says as he grasps behind him in the couch cushions.
His fingers grasp cold plastic and he grunts in triumph as he pulls out a tube of lube from between the cushions. They’re tucked in various parts of the apartment, their bedroom, of course, as well as the cushions, cabinets, the little cuckoo clock (there’s a reason why it’s ‘broken’ in the hallway; having a yogi* for a boyfriend means that they have sex in interesting and slightly unconventional places rather frequently. Also, very inconveniencing to find for when their families come over for the holidays; their friends have resigned themselves to finding bottles of lube behind the canister of tea.
Usopp props himself atop Sanji’s lap, sitting astride with his erection bobbing angrily against his stomach, his palm outward as Sanji squeezes a generous amount of lube into his waiting hand. He rubs the viscous substance between his palms before he slides it easily around Sanji’s length.
Sanji squirts some on his own hands and reaches around to swipe it against Usopp’s entrance. He watches Usopp in fascination as the longnose suddenly freezes as he presses his fingers inward. His body is coiled tight, squeezing Sanji’s fingers as he rubs lube in and around his throbbing channel; his fingers tremble around Sanji’s cock as he slowly slides his fingers out, his fingernail scraping against the sensitive rim.
“Mean,” splutters Usopp spitefully but complies as Sanji lifts him up and over his cock. He shudders as the head of Sanji’s cock rub against his entrance before it slowly breaches him. Sanji’s labored breathing is loud against against the curve of Usopp’s neck as he slides slowly slides down. His fingernails score Sanji’s shoulders and back as his body accommodates the intrusion.
Finally, Sanji bottoms out and Usopp is trembling in his arms, gulping air like a mad man as he adjusts to Sanji’s girth. It’s really been way too long and toys pale in comparison to the real thing.
“Fuck it,” Sanji grunts as he rolls over so that Usopp is on his back, his legs thrown over Sanji’s shoulders. He’s almost folded in half, his thighs touching his front. Usopp is a champ at the happy baby pose, partially because of him, thinks Sanji rather pervertedly.
Yeah, Sanji abuses the fact that Usopp is limber as hell but he rationalizes with himself that it’s for the greater good, especially when he slowly unsheathes himself only to slam himself back in and listens to Usopp gasp his name like it’s the only word that matters.
“Too fucking perfect for me,” Sanji growls.
“Obviously,” responds Usopp cheekily as he grasps Sanji’s arms, his fingers digging into the flushed flesh.
Sanji shuts him up and his goofy self-satisfied smile with the sudden cant of his hips that makes Usopp splutter and glare at him in a ridiculously cute manner.
In apology, he reaches between them and intertwined his fingers around Usopp’s, both of them stroking him in time with Sanji’s measured thrusts.
‘It’s gonna be quick,’ Sanji laments, his hips rocking in and out of Usopp with practiced grace.
It’s with a moan of his name, utterly needy and filthy, when Usopp comes, staining Sanji’s and his hand with his pleasure.
“Sanji…” Usopp says dazedly as he stares up at Sanji, his long nose pressed against the curve of Sanji’s cheek as the other presses soft kisses and endearments against his flushed skin. His channel squeezes around Sanji’s thick member, rippling and twitching with aftershocks of his orgasm, and Usopp moans, feeling Sanji twitch inside of him as his movements lose their steady rhythm.
He’s almost there.
Usopp leans forward until his mouth is brushing against the curve of Sanji’s ear.
“Come on, come for me. You feel so good inside of me. So hard, so good.” Usopp slowly licks the hard nub of his ear, “I want to feel you release inside of me until I’m dripping.”
Sanji comes.
Hard.
His vision momentarily blacks out, the sound of blood rushing in his ears, and his body paralyzed with pleasure. He doesn’t have it in him to move after he collapses on Usopp, he distantly hears his boyfriend grumbling. Instead, he drifts off, exhaustion finally catching up to him.
When Sanji does regain consciousness, he feels lighter, more relaxed than he’s been in a long time. They’re still on the couch in the living room, but they’re cleaned up, a heavy quilt thrown over their nude bodies. He smiles softly, he can hear the familiar staccato rhythm of Usopp’s heartbeat against his cheek, his fingers delicately running through the fine strands of his blond hair, his thighs bracketed around his middle, and his voice - singing a familiar song about giants and and a city made out of clouds.
On the end table, he spies a familiar bouquet in a glass vase. Red roses and sunny yellow daisies.
Oh yeah - Sanji had brought flowers to give to Usopp but in his rush to finally get laid, he had forgotten them in the foyer.
“You like them?” Sanji mutters.
“Hmm?” Usopp pauses from his ministrations in Sanji’s hair, only to resume when he makes a dissatisfied sound in the back of his throat. He glances at the flowers only to scoff. “Obviously, you doofus.”
“Just checking.”
Usopp chuckles, pressing a kiss against his head.
Sanji may not like Valentine’s Day but he certainly likes the day after.