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When Sanji sees the man first walk in, he expects him to talk shit and internally groans. He’ll come in and bitch about the complicated menu and how it should be all in English if he wants to be successful. How you can’t even order a plain black coffee anymore without it being a whole ordeal. He’ll have to explain the French terms over and over before just giving the man the plainest pastry he has.
So Sanji is prepared. He’ll grin through the man’s ranting and raving but still pour him a simple cup so he’ll leave satisfied. Sanji gets enough blowhards in here that he's used to it.
“Can I get a noisette and two mille-feuilles, please?” The man asks after he looks in the pastry case for a minute. Sanji is glad he doesn’t have anything in his hands or he would have dropped it from sheer surprise. That was not what he was expecting to come out of the mouth of the man dressed in head to toe spikes and leather. The man notices Sanji’s pause and blushes. “I’m sorry, did I pronounce it wrong?”
“No, no not at all!” Sanji quickly grabs the pastries from the case while the espresso is making. “Sorry, just not used to anyone around here knowing the proper terms. Usually they just point!” Sanji laughs as he hands the man the wrapped pastries. “Would you like the drink here or to go?”
“To go, please.” Sanji turns around to grab an insulated cup to hide his frown. The man is intriguing and he would have liked him to stay and chat. “What’s your name? For the cup?” Sanji hastily adds when he gets a raised eyebrow. He’s unable to tell if the man is smiling, the bottom half of his face covered by an enormous scarf. Sanji didn’t think it was that cold outside when he was smoking earlier. Maybe he needs it while riding his motorcycle?
“Katakuri.” That’s different. Sanji adds a little heart to the ‘i’ as a flourish. He pours the cream then tops it with the espresso. “Thanks.”
“Thanks Katakuri. Hope you come back and see me. Mondays, I have specials on macarons.” Sanji notices once Katakuri walks out that he even put a few bills in his tip jar. He’s going to have to check his prejudices next time.
Katakuri places the small bag of sweets delicately in a side pouch before setting his cup in the holder near the handle bars. Sanji watches him double checking to make sure he hasn’t squished the pastries again before he starts his bike and his heart swoons a bit. Just a bit. The man is totally not his type.
That’s a lie. He’s tall with a deep voice that can perfectly pronounce French words. He’s exactly Sanji’s type. He can even tell he’s pure muscle under all those layers. Plus the purple accents he accessorized with? Oh, he’s going to consume Sanji’s thoughts for the rest of the day. Hopefully he returns on Monday. He’ll make sure to prepare him special macarons.
Like he had scheduled it, Katakuri reappears on Monday at 10am. It’s the slowest time for the All Blue . The busy professionals have already dipped in for their early morning caffeine fix and before the afternoon tea crowd settles in.
“Good morning Katakuri!” Sanji calls out over the counter as the tall man walks in. He heard the motorcycle approach and quickly finished his cigarette out back. “Would you like another noisette?”
Katakuri gives a small nod but all his attention is on the prominently displayed blackberry and lemon macarons in the case. It’s a bit more of a summery flavor than Sanji would normally choose for the late fall but he couldn’t resist the brilliant purple coloring of his new client. He even added a little ‘spiky’ flourish to the top as a nod to the man’s aesthetic. As he grabs a cup to put the cream in, Sanji can’t help but notice the bright blush peeking through the man’s scarf.
“What can I say, I was inspired.” Sanji lilts. He finishes making the noisette and returns to the counter to see Katakuri still staring at the pastries.
“Can I take all of them?” Katakuri asks, still not making eye contact with the baker. Sanji gives a small gasp. He has plenty of other macaron flavors for the day’s special but he never thought Katakuri would want all 36.
“Sure sir, I can give you a discount for each box.” He opens the back of the glass to pull out the platter of sweets.
“No. I would like to pay the full price.” Oh. A man that values craftsmanship and is willing to pay for it? Be still Sanji’s heart and dick.
Katakuri pays for his purchases and again leaves another tip. His coffee and bag in hand, he turns to leave.
“Oh, on Thursdays, I do unique les tartes. Haven’t decided what flavors to showcase this week but they usually turn out quite delicious.”
“Not on Tuesday?”
“I’m closed on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, but I can recommend a different bakery if you would like.” Sanji had hoped the man would offer some plans for his days off but maybe he just really likes sweets and doesn’t care from where he gets them.
“That won’t be necessary, I’ll be back on Thursday.” Katakuri nods in thanks and Sanji swears he’s smiling but he can’t see his damn mouth. “Hope you have nice days off.”
“Oh, they will be terribly boring, I’m sure.” Sanji walks over to open the door for the man. Wow, he is really tall. All Sanji can think of is how his mouth is at the perfect height to latch onto that covered neck and suck. Ah, calm down, Sanji, he tells himself. He’s never even seen him eat his confectionery creations yet. He may be taking them to his significant other to share. The idea that this man is already taken makes Sanji’s heart hurt. He watches from the window as Katakuri delicately sets his purchases in the bags on his bike.
His scarf catches on a pipe and pulls down just a hair but Sanji can see the beginnings of what looks like a giant scar on his cheek. Sanji quickly busies himself cleaning off a table but out of the corner of his eye, he can see the man’s wide eyes looking to see if Sanji noticed the slip. Katakuri readjusts the scarf even higher before he sits on the bike. Revving up the engine a couple times, Sanji looks up again. The man gives him a small wave when they make eye contact and Sanji returns it.
So that’s it. He couldn’t see the full extent of the scarring but it must be pretty large for the man to take such great effort to hide it. And he’s obviously very self conscious about it. Sanji’s hand subconsciously fixes the hair over his left eye knowing what it feels like to hide a part of your face from the world.
Sanji spends his days off stressing about what he’ll make for Thursday. He usually just lets his mind wander and create whatever he’s drawn to. But knowing Katakuri is going to be there adds to his anxiety. He’s made pastries and treats for plenty of potential and current suitors before but something about this mystery man lights Sanji’s creative juices on fire. He doesn’t leave the kitchen until well after midnight having destroyed and cleaned the area multiple times over the past twelve hours.
Running on only a few hours of sleep, Sanji opens up the All Blue to serve his bright eyed professionals on their way to the business district a couple blocks away. Sanji is completely congenial during the morning rush but absolutely disengaged. He keeps his eye trained to the clock on the wall waiting for Katakuri to show up.
About a quarter to ten, Sanji finally takes a deep breath. The dining area is spotless and the pastry case replenished. He brews a dark roast for himself and grabs his pack of cigarettes from under the counter. He decides to sit at the bistro table out front this time to wait for the man’s arrival.
Sanji switches the door sign to closed and moves the time to return to 10:30. He very rarely takes lunch but today seems like a perfect day for it. On second thought, he turns it to 11. Might as well take the whole hour. He pulls the shades down in front so there’s only the soft light from the back windows streaming in.
Passing by the window, he takes in his own appearance. Fixing some stray hairs down and making sure he doesn’t have any spilled syrup or sugar on his shirt. He picked this teal shirt specifically because he knew it brought out the blue of his eyes. While straightening his tucked shirt, Sanji decides to pop a few buttons at the top for good measure. A few turns into half his fucking shirt and Sanji smiles at himself. He was downright shameless in his pursuit of this man.
He takes a seat outside and waits for Katakuri. Ten AM on the dot, he hears the motorcycle coming up the street. The engine dies as it pulls into the space closest to him. Sanji waves and pulls the cigarette back to his lips. Sanji’s never had a thing for bikes but he’s reconsidering that as he stares at the leather stretching across the man’s thighs as he dismounts. His mind is so clouded with visions of riding behind Katakuri, gripping his muscled chest while the wind blows past him that he misses what the man says.
“I’m sorry, are you closed right now?” Katakuri asks and Sanji’s heart cracks at how sad he sounds.
“For you? No, come on in. I’m just taking a lunch but I don’t mind if you join.” Sanji snubs out his spent cigarette and gets up to walk inside. He checks his face as he can tell Katakuri is staring at his exposed chest. “The morning rush was crazy today, I just needed a little break. Here sit down, I’ll get your noisette.” He sets his own coffee on the table and gestures for Katakuri to join. Sanji hopes the closed shades are enough to make the man feel more comfortable. He doesn’t want to come across as too forward but he’s not sure playing it safe will get him anywhere either.
A small blush appears under his eyes as Katakuri sits down. Sanji quickly makes the noisette and grabs the small tray he already prepared. “I made some tarte framboise, the raspberries were particularly sweet this time of year. There’s also tarte aux fraises.” Sanji sets the trays down with some napkins and forks. He then sits but notices the man has made no move to remove his scarf.
“It’s okay. The bakery is closed, no one else is going to come in.” Sanji takes one of the tartes off the tray and starts to eat, not wanting the man to think he’s staring. Slowly, he pulls the scarf layers down past his chin. His hand stays on the scarf as if to quickly replace it once Sanji reacts.
It’s not the worst scar Sanji’s ever seen. He has a friend with a grotesque cut that literally crosses his entire chest and torso. No, Katakuri’s scar is perfect on him. Lines reach to his jaw, giving him the appearance of always smiling. He can see where the scar tissue has puckered causing the bottom part of his face to be puffier than the strong jaw would naturally be. Sanji’s sure it wasn’t an accidental mark but that’s none of his business.
When Sanji doesn’t gasp or recoil in immediate disgust, Katakuri lets out a deep breath he’d been holding in. A small smile appears on his lips that is exemplified by the scar to give the appearance of a full faced grin. Sanji sips his coffee acting as though the man hasn’t revealed his deepest shame.
“Thank you.” Katakuri digs into the pastry but won’t make eye contact with the blond across the table. His voice sounds even better to Sanji’s ears when it’s not spoken through the layers of fabric.
“I think you’re beautiful.” And Sanji’s heart melts at the massive blush spreading across Katakuri’s whole face. He finally looks up and Sanji smiles at him. “Too much? Ha, I’ve been thinking about you ever since you first walked in here and rattled off the correct names for my pastries.”
“I like sweets.” Katakuri answers quietly as he bites into the tarte. A soft moan escapes his lips as he takes in the sweetness of the raspberries.
Sanji wants to ask so many questions of the man but the quiet is nice. The bakery is always bustling with conversation and Sanji is used to talking about anything and everything with his customers. Katakuri doesn’t use many words but his utter delight at eating what Sanji created is exactly enough to fill the silence.
As Katakuri finishes up, Sanji gets up to remove the dirty dishes. He pauses next to the man as he reaches down. A long moment passes as both men look at each other. Sanji decides to make a move when he sees Katakuri’s eyes flicking back and forth to his lips.
“Is it okay if I kiss you?” Sanji asks a hair’s breadth away from Katakuri’s mouth.
“Yes.” The kiss is very chaste. Just a light brushing of lips that Sanji makes no attempt to take further. The man has stilled completely under him and he doesn’t want to push his luck. He does brush a thumb across the scar on his right cheek. Katakuri lets out a small gasp as Sanji places a light kiss to the puckered skin before he pulls away.
Sanji takes the dishes to the sink, smiling as he sees the blush return in full force on the man’s face. He gathers a to-go cup and bag for Katakuri as the time nears 11. Standing to meet him at the counter, Katakuri still hasn’t spoken since the kiss. Sanji worries he went too far, too fast but every physical cue tells him he’s being crazy. Katakuri takes the items and readjusts his scarf before he steps outside.
“Same time tomorrow?” Katakuri’s voice is muffled through the scarf as he puts his treats away.
“It’s a date.” Sanji waves lighting a cigarette. His stomach flipping and his heart full. He’s definitely going to take a lunch break every day from now on.