[he might've already been picking by the time sanji got the first syllable out. or maybe he just works really fast! either way, baren's waltzing in and.... snorting faintly.]
[He says while making absolutely no effort to hide the three bottles of wine neatly lined up on the living room table. Sanji might be a tall bastard but... uh. Yeah, two is his limit if he's not sharing.]
[Baren just... almost laughs at that. He's been a shit mood all day but finding this isn't too bad. He goes to pick up the last bottle at the end and lifts it up for inspection.]
[Did that statement even answer a question? Whatever, Sanji is drunk and unwisely unwinding himself off the couch, somehow managing to stand despite three whole bottles of wine turning his vision into a tilt-a-whirl]
[This conversation is going places, apparently... though he stares uncomprehending at Baren standing in front of him, until it occurs he can just... walk around him...
[He makes a gesture at the fridge, nearly collides his hand into the counter, how does this man function on a daily basis. Well regardless, he's gonna start gathering ingredients he thinks go into a cake?
Like flour, right? Sugar too, that makes sense. Uh... vanilla abstract, perhaps? Oh water! Gotta have water to make everything wet and stick together.
Turning to Baren with literally a mess of ingredients held in his arms because he hasn't thought to put them down yet]
[ . . . . he sure is moving less confidently than usual? Baren watches, blinking curiously before going to sit on the counter as he normally does. This is his space now.]
... You crave cake when you're drunk?
That's new.
[how deep in denial is he going to be that sanji is making a damn cake for him]
[IGNORING THE FUCK OUT OF BAREN'S STUPID, Sanij's got his own hideous mistakes to focus on. His brows furrow with some confusion before he turns to glance over at Baren again]
I don't need my counter smelling like your ass, y'know.
[He doesn't even care; Sanji just thought his slurred statement was clever...]
[Hello Baren and welcome to the embarrassment known as Your Ex.
Also he hears that note of judging. Sanji sends him a snappy side-eye before finally throwing his burdens on the counter, half of them flopping over in their containers.]
[So no, no black out. His eyes are dilated to hell and back, but he's sorta cognitively aware? No drunker than Baren has ever seen him.
But anyway, back to the mess of ingredients that stare accusingly from the counter. Arms folded, Sanji studies them with uncertainty, like an American trying to read Sanskrit for the first time.]
.. Oh, right. [Snapping his fingers in triumph] Oven. Gotta... gotta set that shit at something.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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shit 'm inna wait until yu get here
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[hearts don't make a text any less asshole-ish baren
anyway!! he's knocking on the door.
. . . . and then calling through the door]
Are you too drunk to get up? Can I pick the lock?
[impatient little shit]
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Yeah just pick it.
[If Baren doubted how sloshed Sanji is, well... here's the proof.]
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How much did you have?
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[He says while making absolutely no effort to hide the three bottles of wine neatly lined up on the living room table. Sanji might be a tall bastard but... uh. Yeah, two is his limit if he's not sharing.]
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Couldn't even save me any on my birthday? Cold.
1/2
Well nex' time phone'a friend and give me a head's u--
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[...]
Oi what the hell, you're older than me?
[Um no? Sanji was happier without this information? And also feeling a lot less guilty. He wants a rewind]
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[BUT CLOSE ENOUGH since no one actually sees him on his birthday. Instead he just gives a grin.]
But yeah Sanj, how come you don't respect your elders?
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[Did that statement even answer a question? Whatever, Sanji is drunk and unwisely unwinding himself off the couch, somehow managing to stand despite three whole bottles of wine turning his vision into a tilt-a-whirl]
Second off, I still got four hours.
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????????
Baren tilts his head as Sanji moves to stand, automatically stepping forward in case he needs to be caught - ]
Huh?
[eloquent.]
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[This conversation is going places, apparently... though he stares uncomprehending at Baren standing in front of him, until it occurs he can just... walk around him...
... Toward the kitchen...]
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[this is the dumbest they've ever sounded around each other and only one of them is drunk
but baren will?? follow into the kitchen?]
You just - casually had a cake?
[assuming it already exists... because sanji wouldn't just. make him a cake right.]
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[He makes a gesture at the fridge, nearly collides his hand into the counter, how does this man function on a daily basis. Well regardless, he's gonna start gathering ingredients he thinks go into a cake?
Like flour, right? Sugar too, that makes sense. Uh... vanilla abstract, perhaps? Oh water! Gotta have water to make everything wet and stick together.
Turning to Baren with literally a mess of ingredients held in his arms because he hasn't thought to put them down yet]
Gotta gimme time to make it first.
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... You crave cake when you're drunk?
That's new.
[how deep in denial is he going to be that sanji is making a damn cake for him]
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[IGNORING THE FUCK OUT OF BAREN'S STUPID, Sanij's got his own hideous mistakes to focus on. His brows furrow with some confusion before he turns to glance over at Baren again]
I don't need my counter smelling like your ass, y'know.
[He doesn't even care; Sanji just thought his slurred statement was clever...]
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Yes?
[WHY DOESN'T SANJI KNOWS THIS.... WHERE IS HIS MAGIC PERFECT COOKING]
Also shut the fuck up, until recently I spent more time in this kitchen than you.
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Also he hears that note of judging. Sanji sends him a snappy side-eye before finally throwing his burdens on the counter, half of them flopping over in their containers.]
Fuck off, it's the-- the wine!
[... muttering darkly]
Wine can do that, right...
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No.
[NO MERCY]
Are you in the middle of blacking out? Is that what's happening?
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[So no, no black out. His eyes are dilated to hell and back, but he's sorta cognitively aware? No drunker than Baren has ever seen him.
But anyway, back to the mess of ingredients that stare accusingly from the counter. Arms folded, Sanji studies them with uncertainty, like an American trying to read Sanskrit for the first time.]
.. Oh, right. [Snapping his fingers in triumph] Oven. Gotta... gotta set that shit at something.
[... 500F is a fine temperature for a cake.]
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A long, long, long silence.]
Are you trying to bait me into making you a cake.
[wAS THIS ALL AN ELABORATE RUSE, SANJI]
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[Head swiveling a near 180 degrees like some demonic bobble head]
Why would I make you make your own cake? Of course I'm making it!
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Why the fuck would I expect you to make a cake for my birthday?!
I came here for Snoop Dogg and Animal Planet!!
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[WE ARE HUMANS, BAREN.
WE ADAPT TO THE SITUATION.]
It doesn't even take that long to make, so shut up and sit down somewhere while I make you a goddamn cake!
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If you burn your apartment down, I'm gonna kick your ass!!
[but that's like
totally an opportunity for an exit so he's gonna head out and then go to find their fucking animal planet show before he dies of flustered discomfort]
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WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT ICON, I AM IN THE PROCESS OF ACTUALLY DYING
BAREN'S TRUE GREMLIN FORM
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STOP NOW YOU HAVE THE WORST ICON
/WINS THE WAR
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