Work Text:
"You don't own a french press? Seriously!?"
Sanji rolled his eyes. "I don't need one, I already have an espresso machine, anyways. I'm perfectly fine steaming milk over the stove like a normal person."
Usopp threw his hands in the air, "But think of all the time you could save!"
The cook was cleaning up the kitchen for the night as the sniper sat on the bar stool across from him. The room was dimly lit up by a lamp, warm and cozy despite the chilly midnight winds blowing outside. Between the pair lay two fresh cups of coffee.
He waved his hand, "I have enough appliances to make do, I don't need a dozen more doohickeys cluttering up my counters."
Finally settling down across from the other, he picked up his mug and realized that he had unintentionally poured a heart in both of their drinks. Strange, considering he normally opted for a rosetta or a swan, but he decided not to give it too much thought. The more he thought about anything he did around Usopp, or anything to do with Usopp, or Usopp in general, the more his brain felt like melting in its skull.
It was unsuccessful, however, because the dark haired man was observing the pattern in his latte closely. Sanji suddenly felt a little self-conscious. Please, please, please don't read too much into it-
"How does it even work?" Usopp asked.
Sanji blinked, not expecting the question. He didn't exactly know the science behind it, but he supposed he could let him in on the techniques he used. It was essentially just milk poured over a couple shots of espresso.
But Sanji... tended to get a little carried away when it came to food, and after twenty minutes of describing the proper and improper methods of pouring, temperature and pressure troubleshooting, how to make a perfect crema, and a dozen other explanations, Usopp interrupted him.
"So, what happens if you keep adding air to the milk?"
"It would get too stiff and wouldn't flow as nicely. It kinda just... sits there." He'd forgotten about his own cup, and the beverage had gotten cold. Sanji was more of a tea person, anyways.
Usopp hummed, looking deep in thought. Then, he asked, "You'd need a smaller hand-mixer to get it that frothy, right?"
Sanji nodded, taking a sip. Technically he could use the regular whisk attachment on his hand mixer, but it was too big to fit in a jar. He didn't really get why Usopp was so interested in something as mundane as this, anyways. The feeling of embarrassment began to settle as he realized how long he'd been rambling for.
He didn't notice the gears turning in the inventor's head.
➶ ｡˚ °
The following night, while Sanji was in the middle of preparing their drinks, he was greeted by Usopp. Although he would never admit it, he had missed him all day. The sniper had locked himself in his factory, being the last one to sit down for dinner and the first one to leave.
He held out a stick towards the cook. Well, on closer inspection, he realized it wasn't a stick, it was more like a wand of some sort. It had a thick base and attached to it was a button. The body of the wand was a thin metal rod and the other end of it had a coiled metal ring, as if a whisk had been shrunk down and then flattened. Sanji took it from his hand.
Usopp slammed his hands down on the counter, "Behold! My latest invention, the Usopp Effervescent Frother Mark 40!" His knees supported him on the bar stool, making him appear taller than the blonde.
Sanji turned the wand (he refused to use its ridiculous name) over in his hands, inspecting it closely. So this is what had him occupied all day.
Experimentally, he pressed the button at its base. Sanji jolted in surprise as it made a loud WHIRRR noise and the metal at its end spun around before it came to an eventual stop. Usopp laughed as the other glared at him.
"Is this what kept you from breakfast and lunch?" The cook waved the wand around.
Usopp ignored his question, "Oh, good. You haven't creamed the coffee yet." He hopped off the stool and made his way inside the kitchen. "Mind if I look around for a couple of things?"
He was stopped by Sanji's extended arm, barring his entry. "Explain what this is, first."
Usopp tutted, wagging his finger in his face. "Patience, silly." Sanji rolled his eyes. The inventor poked his head over the cook's shoulder, eyeing the pot on the stove. Their close proximity caused an annoying heat to rise up to his ears.
"Ooh, you already have the milk heated up, that's good." He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. "I get that you don't want me going through your kitchen, so could I ask for that jug instead?" He nodded his head towards the metal jug sitting next to the pot.
"I'm using it for the latte. I could whip up another batch if you'd like, though."
Usopp took the wand from Sanji's hand, shaking his head. "No need, tonight I'll be the one preparing our drinks." He grinned.
The cook frowned. He didn't know where this was going, and he didn't understand why the sniper was so keen on doing... whatever this was. It was foreign to him.
He placed the jug of steamed milk in front of Usopp, beside the unprepared espressos. Usopp had asked for a tiny tasting bowl as well as a pair of spoons, which were also placed in front of him.
Sanji didn't really question why he was going through the trouble, allowing himself to be at the whim of the artist seated in front of him. He poured a couple drops of espresso into the little bowl, setting it to the side. Then, Usopp dipped the wand into the jug and held down the button.
The loud whirring sound was back, and Sanji began to understand what was happening. "Hmmph. Even after I told you I didn't need a gizmo for every little situation..."
"You don't need to keep it if you don't want it," Usopp retorted, having to raise his voice over the sound of the frother. Then in a lower voice, he added, "even though I made it just for you."
Was Sanji supposed to hear that? He felt butterflies in his stomach, which he immediately squished under his shoes. Deciding to ignore it, he watched Usopp tilt the wand slightly to let more air into the silky liquid. Huh, so he had been paying attention to what Sanji was talking about the night before.
On second thought, maybe not. "The milk is getting way too frothy," he muttered.
Usopp didn't let go of the button, only increasing the speed. "I know, that's the point."
Sanji pursed his lips. The milk had almost completely stiffened, becoming foam. The artist wiggled the jug, watching the foam wiggle back and forth with it. He grinned with satisfaction.
Curious, the cook decided to watch him. He was rewarded for his patience as Usopp gave a little explanation of what he was doing.
"The plan," he started, "is to get the froth to sit on the surface of the coffee." Pouring some of it straight into the mug until it reached the top, the drink turned a shade of light brown. "If I spoon some of it on top, I'm hoping it'll hold its shape."
He was completely engrossed in what he was doing, so Sanji left him to it and decided to clean up. He carried the pot over to the sink, and began scrubbing away.
They settled into a comfortable silence.
Sanji eventually began to lose his focus on the pot in his hands, mesmerized by the artist lost in his work. Using a spoon, Usopp scooped up a lump of the frothy substance from the cup and gently laid it onto the surface of the hot beverage. His fingers gently curled around a second spoon, which he used it to push the foam off of the first.
Sanji watched him repeat this process over and over, building up the froth which was, admittedly, holding up its shape pretty well. He was surprised at how his hands moved with practiced ease, carefully setting the froth onto the surface of the liquid without spilling anything onto the counter. Had he seriously never done this before?
His eyes followed every motion of his hands, dextrous and steady. Sanji knew that Usopp was in no way clumsy when it came to using his hands, he was hi... their sniper after all. He had watched him pinpoint and accurately shoot at his targets time and time again. Had watched as Usopp's dominant hand clutched the base of his slingshot and his digits wrapped around the pouch containing his homemade projectiles. As he took his shot, flicking his wrist slightly forward after letting go of the ammo.
However, Sanji had only ever watched his hands work from afar. Tonight, he got to see Usopp's hands in motion up close.
Noticing his movements slowing down, Sanji's gaze trailed up, and he locked eyes with the sniper.
He dropped the pot.
"I know what you're thinking," Usopp laughed uneasily, "Just... trust the process, alright?" He sheepishly looked down at the blob of aerated milk.
Although relieved that Usopp hadn't noticed that it was him Sanji was distracted by, he was enveloped by a feeling of embarrassment at being caught. Well, was caught even the right word? The Longnose was in no way special. Sanji pays attention to everyone, so that he can be there to protect them from harm's way. Usopp is his crewmate, just... one that needs more protection than some of the others. He watches him to make sure he's safe. He watches him because the thought of anything happening to him makes him feel sick to his stomach. He watches him because…
He definitely needed to stop this train of thought. He didn't even know why he'd let it leave the station in the first place.
All he could do was nod weakly and pretend like his heart hadn’t grown ten-meter wings and started fluttering in his chest. Usopp smiled and resumed his craft. Sanji picked the pot up and got back to scrubbing.
His eyes wandered again, against his will. He supposed 'wandered' wasn't the best way to describe it... it was more like the presence of a divine force influencing him. That explanation made more sense, because who was more divine a human than Usopp? With just his hands and a pair of spoons he had created pillowy mountains floating over a bitter sea. Every peak placed with intention and shaped to form the image in his mind. Sanji felt honored that he had been chosen to witness Usopp in his element.
The way Usopp worked with his hands was... different. They didn't move like clockwork, or like a well-oiled machine. Instead, they were driven by passion. Not every movement had a specific purpose, which let him breathe life into all that he touched.
Sanji couldn't help but savor moments like these. He recalled the times when Usopp would set up a work station in the lounge of the Merry. They would chat idly while Sanji worked in the kitchen, or fall into a comfortable silence. He'd steal glances at the sniper as he mixed various substances together, scribbled notes in his writing pad, or tinkered away. But ever since they had moved to the Sunny, Usopp spent a lot of the day holed up in his factory. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he missed all of it.
Usopp's thumb and index fingers pinching test tubes filled with strange liquids, his hand stable as he added other strange ingredients to the mix. Tightening nuts and bolts with his trusty wrench gripped in his fist. His hand and gliding over his sketchbook, fingers wrapped around a pencil covered in bite marks.
Just like his pencils, Usopp's nails were chewed up and uneven too. Sanji observed his hands closely, noticing scars he hadn't seen before, old and new. Tiny cuts were littered here and there, some more noticeable than the others. A few of the larger ones were more obvious, jagged and light in colour. He wondered how many of them were tinkering accidents and how many were a result of Sanji's own inadequacy.
Slowly, the blob started to actually look like a proper shape. Sanji still couldn't tell what it was supposed to be, but he knew you couldn't rush art.
"Mind passing me a toothpick?" Usopp asked, startling Sanji out of his trance.
He complied, tossing him the container that he'd fished out of a drawer. "What do you need these for, anyways?" His voice only shook a little bit.
Shaking the box, he replied, "Makeshift paintbrush."
Usopp dipped a toothpick into the little bowl he had set to the side earlier, coating its tip in the dark coffee. The tiny toothpick was gently grasped in his fingers, and he had shifted forward to carefully detail his work. Although the sculpture was facing away from Sanji, he unconsciously leaned towards the sniper as well.
As curious as he was about what Usopp was doing, he was more interested in the dark, unoccupied hand resting on the counter. Fingers drumming rhythmically, the blonde was hypnotized. He wondered what they would feel like, tapping against his own palm. He was no stranger to Usopp's touch, the lively young man was not shy about swinging his arm around the cook's shoulders or dragging him around by the wrist. Or panicked, trembling hands shaking him awake after a fight or Sanji's wounded body pressed flush against his back. Their fingers interlocked as they lay unconscious, perfectly slotted together…
...It was right there, just a few centimeters away. Would it be too much to ask for? To touch him just because he wanted to, their only witness being the moon? Maybe so, but in the blink of an eye, Usopp's hand was already in Sanji's.
His cold and wet hands tingled from its warmth, which rapidly spread throughout his body. He gently held it with both hands, tracing the deepest scar on the back of his dark hand with his thumb. His palm was lighter than his skin, fingers noticeably calloused.
The sniper's hands were larger than he had thought, compared to how boney and thin they were two years ago. He wanted to traverse every little bump with his fingers. Turning it over, he wondered what future would be foretold by reading the lines on his palms. Would Sanji be in-
"Um... Sanji? I- uh... I kind of... need that back."
Sanji's eyes grew triple the size and he dropped his treasure like a hot coal. His heartbeat was thundering in his ears. Immediately pushing himself away, he avoided any amount of eye contact with the man in front of him.
Struggling to come up with something, all he could muster up was, "I'm... I'm sorry- I don't know what..."
It wasn't a lie, he didn't know what he was doing. Or was that a lie too? He didn't know anymore. He just had to go and ruin things, didn't he? He just had to selfishly indulge in... in whatever this was.
Maybe it was Usopp's fault for having such... nice and inviting hands. Ugh, nothing made sense anymore. Though he supposed, when it came to Usopp, things stopped making sense ages ago. It was good that Usopp had stopped him before he did something he'd regret later (like bringing the back of his hand up to his lips-)
Usopp tutted and shook his head, "I know exactly what this is about."
Sanji's stomach turned. His ears burned red, but he forced himself to look in Usopp's direction. This can't be happening.
Usopp dramatically pointed his finger in the cook's direction. "You're trying to uncover The Great Captain Usopp's secret techniques, aren't you!?"
The blonde blinked. Slowly, his panic dissipated.
Sanji desperately caught the lifeline that the artist had so generously thrown to him. "The secret to creating what, exactly? A melting snowman?"
"Hey! I told you to be patient!"
Sanji huffed. "At least let me have a peek! I've been watching you push around a lump of bubbles for ages now."
He sighed. "It's still unfinished, but if you insist..."
Usopp shot up, ever the dramatic, and held up the mug in both (strong, yet gentle) hands. He leveled the blonde with his round, brown eyes and smiled widely.
"Are you ready... to witness the greatest coffee art of your life... made only out of milk!?" His arm flew out to the side, and he held the mug closer to his face, the blob wobbling a little as he did.
"The first three-dimensional microfoam sculpture," His hand came to rest on his chest, "created by yours truly!"
"Yeah, yeah. Get on with it now."
He stuck out his tongue at the impatient cook, finally turning the mug to face his way.
It was…
So…
Cute..!
It had looked like a shapeless lump from behind, so Sanji was blown away by how adorable the front of it looked. Its head was sticking out of the surface of the latte, and two paws hung over the rim of the mug. The form was detailed with espresso, familiar furry features outlined against the stark white foam.
"Do not let Chopper see this," Sanji chuckled.
"I feel kind of bad now," Usopp pensively looked into milk-Chopper's eyes. "I either chomp his little head off now, or watch as the poor thing disintegrates. Maybe another model would've been better..."
Sanji reached his hand out, beckoning to Usopp to pass him the mug. Their hands brushed, and it took everything in Sanji's power to not drop the mug (and then drop to the floor himself.)
He turned it over, getting a closer look at the creation. It was wobbly, and had already started to bubble and melt, but it was impressive nonetheless. "Not bad, Longnose."
Maybe next time, they'd try adding something into the milk to help stabilize it better. Would egg whites work? Maybe gelatin, or skim milk...
Usopp smirked, pointing his thumb at his chest. "Well, this level of expertise didn't come from nowhere. You see, it all started when a talking clam..."
Setting the mug down on the counter as Usopp launched into another tall tale, Sanji smiled contently. He gathered the used dishes, along with Usopp's newest contraption, and started to clean them in the sink. He kept the water from the tap flowing gently.
Because he... didn't want to wake anyone up. Yeah.
Oh, who was he fooling?
He couldn't help but sneak glances at the dark haired man across the counter, who was gesturing wildly with his hands during his narration. The urge to catch them in midair had never been stronger, but Sanji would rather throw himself overboard than make the same mistake twice in a row.
Pausing, Usopp cupped his hands around the mug and brought it to his lips, taking a sip of his drink. He failed to avoid ruining the sculpture, and when he pulled away, he donned a fresh new milk mustache.
Sanji's fingers twitched. He so badly wanted to reach forward and wipe it off. He could reach him easily, all he had to do was-
Come on... get a grip..!!
Usopp must have noticed him staring, because his story slowly came to a halt. The sniper, observant as ever, followed his gaze. And it ended up... right where his lips were.
Blood rushed to Sanji's face, his heart pounded.
Usopp breathed shakily. “Sanji..?"
"You know, I'm sure Nami-swan would just adore one of these!" The cook burst out.
Seeing a hint of something flicker across Usopp's face made him instantly regret saying anything.
Was it... disappointment? Or something else? Whatever it was, it disappeared in a split-second, leaving Sanji doubtful about whether he'd seen anything at all.
"No, wait, I mean..." Sanji ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat. But he was suddenly at a loss for words. Why is this happening to me now, of all times!?
Usopp shook his head, "Nah, I agree."
"You... what. You do?"
"I was planning an all-nighter anyways, I could totally whip up a cool design for you to impress her with in the morning," Usopp smiled.
Sanji pursed his lips. He should feel more excited at the idea of presenting Nami with something special, but for some reason…
...for some reason... he felt happier that he'd get to spend more time with…
"I don't want to bother you... are you sure you're alright with that?"
He dismissively waved his hand at the blonde. "What'd I just say? I'd be more than happy to."
Sanji mulled it over. "Hmm... how about you just... teach me how to make them? That way I can serve them to the others every now and then too." He looked to the side, "I still have no idea how you got that to work."
Sanji could easily pick up techniques and skills, especially when it came to food. Was the lie too obvious? Maybe it was, judging by how Usopp looked at him. Nonetheless, his eyes lit up and he flashed a thousand-watt smile at him.
He would do anything to protect that smile. Fully facing the man in front of him, he confessed, “Your little contraption… wasn’t too shabby.” He scratched his cheek and added, “Thank you, Usopp.”
The artist beamed even wider, somehow. Giving Sanji a thumbs-up, he boomed, "Leave it to me, my dear disciple! I don't just let anyone under my wing, but I suppose I could make an exception for you."
And then he winked. He. WINKED.
It didn't mean anything. It was just Usopp being... Usopp. But Sanji would be an even bigger liar… to not admit that it made his insides do gymnastics.
“Time to put you to work!”
He let out a snicker. “Aye aye, Master Usopp.”