[ if there's any chance of a reprimand, sanji isn't frightened of hearing it. he's spent a large portion of his life under the care of one of the most criticizing and aggressive pirates in the east blue, a man he had no qualm doing everything in his power to argue with on the regular by not listening to most of his demands. being a submissive in this city isn't bound to change the way he plays with trouble, not when he's recently become a pirate himself, following no rules at all.
but surprisingly, the man before him seems to be following along with this little game that's started, and sanji maintains that contact of his eyes as he collects each sticky drip from bare skin. for all his complaints about the whole ordeal, there's no half-assing in his efforts, every swipe of his tongue diligent in a way that practically massages each finger with intentional strokes of his licks.
when his hair is brushed, it only seems to accent the bright of his eyes, like the blue of the skies before a storm, his gaze never breaking, intent on not backing down from a presented challenge.
there's a noise that borders a chuckle when the cone is tilted towards him, and with nothing but a slight raise in his brow to communicate, he angles his head to let lick along the side of the gelato that's nearest to melting, making a slight show of how the white drip of it catches on his tongue. and when some of it begins to dribble from the corner of his mouth, he carefully licks it up from his skin and swallows it down his throat. ]
no subject
but surprisingly, the man before him seems to be following along with this little game that's started, and sanji maintains that contact of his eyes as he collects each sticky drip from bare skin. for all his complaints about the whole ordeal, there's no half-assing in his efforts, every swipe of his tongue diligent in a way that practically massages each finger with intentional strokes of his licks.
when his hair is brushed, it only seems to accent the bright of his eyes, like the blue of the skies before a storm, his gaze never breaking, intent on not backing down from a presented challenge.
there's a noise that borders a chuckle when the cone is tilted towards him, and with nothing but a slight raise in his brow to communicate, he angles his head to let lick along the side of the gelato that's nearest to melting, making a slight show of how the white drip of it catches on his tongue. and when some of it begins to dribble from the corner of his mouth, he carefully licks it up from his skin and swallows it down his throat. ]