[ being urged to take a photograph is far from unfortunate for sanji who, not just freshly has entered his era of being a pirate out on the seas, is long overdue for some public exposure, especially if he'd like to make a bit of a name for himself and his crew. not that this seems to be the kind of phototaking that'll get slapped onto a wanted poster, but it's a start. ]

So what exactly am I supposed to do here? [ fingers hooking into his tie, he gives it a light tug, loosening it before he starts to slip his jacket off from his shoulders, looking around at the strangely empty set up. ] Didn't they say something about posing with furniture?

[ he looks over to the cameraman with a puzzled look, slowly beginning to understand the clarification before it's explained to him — it isn't posing with furniture, but posing as furniture. ]

Wait, wait, hold on — [ setting his jacket over a nearby clothing rack full of varied costumes, some of the more scandalous variety mixed in, he rolls up the long sleeves of his button-up shirt before waving his hands. ] Now, who exactly am I going to be furniture for, because if it's a man — sorry, it's just not going to happen. A lady, however — [ he grins, a bit more enthused at the idea. ] Well, she can bend me whichever way she likes.

[ as a chef, sanji has plenty of curiosity with the dessert shop, namely in trying items on this menu that seems to be getting substantial praise. being a submissive, though, has its downsides in getting to appreciate some new flavors though, as it leaves him on the outside, left to work for the opportunity to even get inside — for the price of licking whipped cream off someone's fingers. ]

That feels pretty wasteful. [ spoken with a knit brow at any mention of wasted food, though his devotion towards preventing any bite or lick of food from not being savored means he's much more willing to participate in the performance, regardless of it being man or woman (though the latter would always have him plenty eager to perform).

whoever it is whose hand is coated with the sweetness of that whipped cream, sanji curls his fingers around their wrist, as he leans his head down, eyes peering up to theirs. ] May I?

[ he isn't unaccustomed to strong heat, though the kind that beams down on him now is a lot more escalated than normal. it means that even for a man who wears a full suit out on a ship in the middle of the ocean, there's far too many layers compared to his usual tolerance.

the misty water is a sanctuary, letting it brush over his cheeks and closed eyes as he tugs off his black jacket and tosses it to the wet ground in an uncharacteristically hasty motion. as soon as the water hits his shirt, the white of it clings tighter to the skin beneath as it soaks into wet fabric, even as he begins to work open the button to start stripping it off, exposing his bare chest beneath, etched with slim but built muscle.

fingers brush into wet blond locks, combing it back away from his eyes, licking his lips where the water keeps them refreshingly cool. when he blinks his eyes open again, it meets with another pair not far from him in the mist, and he gives them a nod. ] Feels a lot better over here. Trust me.

( hit me up in a pm about other options or alternate scenarios! sanji is ota with a loudly vocal preference for women but he likes men too even if he's meaner to them. )