Chapter Text
The Baratie was a nightclub talked about far and wide. Some dared to call it tacky or dated, but nobody who went in would come out unhappy. The food was gourmet, the service was world-class. Critics who were worth a pretty penny or two would do nothing but rant and rave about the place.
Ace had time to spare in town and couldn’t resist checking the place out. For once, he was grateful that Sabo convinced him to travel with something nice to wear. “You never know when you might need it, Ace.” The blond had lamented, nearly begged his hot headed brother to take a two-piece suit with him. “Plus, you have the room in your duffle.” Reluctant to admit it, Ace couldn’t deny that he was right about that.
The suit looked good, but it was missing something. Ace snagged his signature orange stetson off the hotel bed and tossed it on his head; now the look was complete. The white shirt he’d borrowed from his brother fit, but for a man who rarely wore a shirt, he found it too confining. He left the top half of the buttons undone down to his sternum. The jacket and slacks were a smooth, dark gray and the shoes were a deep, inky black. He packed his pockets with his phone, wallet, keys, and a pocket knife, just in case.
For the few days he was in town, Marco had lent Ace a loaner car from the body shop. Ace was glad to know the parking was free at the esteemed nightclub. He hadn’t expected to get in without a reservation, but was thankful nonetheless. On his way in, Ace removed his hat and opted for holding it. Just because he was a little rough around the edges didn’t mean he was completely without manners.
Inside, the club was dark. The walls were illuminated by lights tinted yellow and the middle of the room had dim lighting, only enough to see where you were going. Towards the center of the room stood a staircase and in front of it a stage, complete with piano and microphone and bright, ample lighting. Ace found an uninhabited, sleek, leather armchair beside a dark wood side table only a few feet from the platform to claim as his own. He took his seat and used the lighting in the center of the room to scan the surrounding spots within. There weren’t a huge number of tables in the place, but almost all of them were full. After a few moments passed someone came to take a drink order and a couple of minutes after that he had a very clean looking Manhattan in his hand.
The whole club smelled fancy, putting Ace out of his comfort zone, and he considered leaving after he finished his drink. He had hiked his leg up on the seat, despite being a little on the improper side, it eased him enough to sit in the room of people much above his pay grade. Everyone in the place was in a three-piece suit that probably cost more than anything he’d ever owned his whole life, or a fancy dress that only celebrities wore. Ace had underestimated the class necessary to enjoy The Baratie.
Ace went to stand up just as a wave of applause hit his ears. He was quick to sit back down, only to realize someone had taken the stage. A long, slender figure in black and blue put a hand on the microphone to test if it was on. Someone had taken a seat at the piano as well, but the lights hid any distinguishable features he may have had. The man at the microphone had blond hair that shone against the lights and pale, alabaster skin that was in stark contrast to the dark clothes that clung to his body. The man cleared his throat and looked up as the pianist behind him started with a tune.
Within seconds of the piano, the singer began his part of the song. If Ace had to guess, the guy wasn’t super into performing to begin with, but his voice was beautiful. As soon as the second verse began, the words from the man’s mouth filled the air of the nightclub with a pleasant, upbeat aura. Ace wasn’t sure what the man’s song was about, but any ideas about it escaped his mind as soon as the figure at the microphone raised his head. He was sure the blond looked right at him. A piercing blue gaze saw right through Ace and any thought lingering on his mind. If he had been any further enthralled by the man, he would think the words were directed at him.
Ace only caught a few phrases from the song along the lines of baby and honey , but the rest was lost on him. His leg slipped from the chair; Ace leaned into it, pushing only inches closer to the stage. He knew he was staring, but it was a performance, and a captivating one at that. Time didn’t even register as he got lost in the sound of the blond's voice, and before long the room erupted once again in applause. Ace tipped his glass towards the singer, who cracked a smile and began on his second song. The second one Ace managed to catch more of, a love song with a lot of hints to food. After the third, he’d been thrown into a trance by the illustrious restaurant's singer.
He’d completely lost track of time, and before he knew it, the show was over. The singer had given a bow and a wave before exiting the stage and heading towards a door in the back. Ace couldn’t have been more glad he stayed for the show, but didn’t want to sit in the room any longer. He left a twenty dollar bill under his empty glass and made his way towards the balcony. The Baratie was known for many things, one of which was its memorable and romantic view of the sea. Ace noted the walkway was mostly empty and that he was free to enjoy the sea breeze without interruption.
Mental images of the singer crossed his mind as he watched the night sky. Ace knew a lot of things about himself--for one, he loved to eat, two, he couldn’t keep his head up most of the time, and three, that he had never been so taken with a person he didn’t even know the name of. With his hat back on his head, Ace rested his elbows on the railing and put his chin in his hands. The sound of the sea soothed him up until the sound of footsteps pulled him from thought.
“Oh, there you are, hotshot.”
Ace perked up and turned his head. The singer leaned against the wall behind him with a cigarette in hand. He was even more eye-catching up close.
“Performance was real nice.” Ace tipped his hat at the blond. He watched the man take a drag from the cigarette before meeting him up at the railing.
The singer rested his hip along the rail, along with his free hand. A smile crept across his face, wide and sly. He took another drag from the lit bud, leaving it against his lips for a moment before speaking again. “Don’t come to this sort of thing often, do you?”
“That obvious, huh?”
The blond huffed a laugh at Ace’s reply. “You stick out like a sore thumb in there.” He admitted before smothering the singed cigarette in the ashtray beside them. “It’s cute that you tried to dress up, though.” He’d gestured to Ace’s body to further emphasize the statement.
Momentarily, Ace was caught off guard, almost enough to throw him off. His lips curved into a smile that ran from one cheek to the other. Ace leaned further into his palm as he eyed the blonde. “Gee, calling me cute, and I don’t even know your name.”
The blond caught a choked sound in his throat, being taken aback at the obvious flirt. Ace would swear he saw a hint of pink rising to the surface of the man’s face as he reached into his pocket to grab another cigarette. He held the box towards Ace, who politely declined. “It’s Sanji.” He’d placed the second cigarette between his teeth while digging his lighter out of his pocket. Ace watched the flame dance as smoke began to rise off his lips.
“Sanji,” Ace mimicked. “I’d have never guessed you smoke from how you sing.”
He returned the comment with a nod. “You’d never guess from hearing me talk, either.” Sanji added. “Now, do I get your name or do you want to stick with hotshot?”
Ace stood up straight and noted that he was just barely taller than the blond. “As much as I like it,” he admitted rather shamelessly. “Name’s Ace.”
A moment of silence passed before one of them spoke up again. “Well, Ace,” Sanji began, flicking some of the burning embers off his cigarette. “The show was just ‘nice’?”
“You looked pretty up on stage.” Ace added.
“Oh, aren't you just a flirt.”
Ace nodded with a grin spread wide across his lips. “Ain’t that why you came to find me, blondie?”
Sanji’s face flushed that time. He was quick to turn his face in an attempt to hide it. “I came here for a smoke. You being here had nothing to do with that.” His voice nearly wavered as he spoke, but Ace took his words at face value. “I’m not even a performer, you know. Shit is way more stressful than I thought.”
“Definitely had me fooled.” He admitted. Ace watched for the blond to react. Sanji’s response was nothing more than a heavy sigh following a cloud of smoke to the sky. He looked nice in the moonlight. Ace noted how his hair was nearly glowing under the natural night lighting and how for a man he’d just met, he could catch there was something the blond had been hiding.
Sanji nodded. “I’m actually the sous-chef. Performers and wait staff keep droppin’ like flies under the old man’s management.” He finished off the second cigarette before placing it bud down in the ashtray. “He’s a bit of a hard ass.” His voice was still, no malice hidden behind the words and dare Ace say, a hint of fondness.
The brunet hums a nod. “Well if you’re really runnin’ the establishment on your back, you're doin’ a great job.” Ace watched the blood rush back to Sanji’s face that he so desperately tried to hide. “Remind me to get a bite to eat next time I’m around.”
“If you stay ‘til close, I’ll cook for you.” Sanji huffs through the cloud of smoke he exhales. “If you want.”
Ace feels a smirk grow across his face at the offer. “Well, aren't I just so special? You gonna sing another song in the meantime?”