What Gift Do You Want For Your Birthday?

Birthdays don't excite my Sanji, correction, his birthday doesn't excite him. If it's my birthday and if I asked, or if it was for any of his lady friends, colleagues, friends of friends. My husband would break his back, twist his knees, and grate his hands to prepare the best feast in the world.

I hugged him from behind, "Good morning, my lovely ocean eyes." And kissed his cheek. He kissed my temple and moved me away so that I didn't distract him. But I was a human octopus, if I latched on to him, he couldn't get rid of me easily. That's how I managed to win his heart and make him my husband.

"Go put on some clothes, please! A naked, shiny husband is too much for my eyes."

"I am wearing boxers."

"You are too buff and the boxers too tiny."

I squeezed him harder, "Am I distracting you with horny thoughts?" I rubbed my morning stubble against his clean-shaven cheeks. "Tell me, tell me, tell me!"

When he realized I was in no mood to let him go, he hit my forehead with the spatula he was using to sauté the veggies, "Stand in that corner! And drink your milk before it turns cold." He pointed at my protein-infused mug of milk that he prepared for me every morning religiously for seventeen years. I did as I was told and chugged my drink. As soon as I finished drinking, with Ninja-like precision, he took away my mug and dropped it into the sink and offered me his back view; which was sexy. "We are not twenty-something that you can manhandle me in the kitchen early morning." So he was going to pretend it was an average workday and cook breakfast for us and lunch for me. He tried this every year, to downplay the importance of his day.

"It's very convenient to pretend to forget your birthday, honey," I muttered under my breath softly.

"You said something?"

I took a better look at him, like every day, he was dressed in my T-shirt and a pair of loose trousers. He generally cooked wearing my old t-shirts because he didn't feel guilty ruining them with oil splatters and grease. I was fine. After all, I was thankful that I was broader and buff than him, because my T-shirts fit him well, a little too well. As the lengths always differed, I got to see the beautiful sides of my coy husband. Today's out-of-fashion white t-shirt was meant to be a tight-fit on me which I bought almost five years back, and it was super short on Sanji. It just ended above his belly button and when he moved around, I got a gorgeous view of the small of his back. I loved how the arc of his hips dimpled and curved. How was it possible to have such a tiny waist as a man was a question that bothered me. Now I wanted to slide my hands up the T-shirt, play with his nipples, and bend him over the kitchen counter. But Sanji warned me years back, that kitchen sex was forbidden. So I didn't do what my dick wanted to do. Instead, went back to him and, "And happy birthday." I slid an envelope into his pocket of his waist apron. "Shishishi! I love you."

"Don't remind me! I am 40!"

"You don't look a day older than 30." It was true, he aged like fine wine according to Robin and Nami, his two best-friends. "And look at your lovely long hair, did you shampoo it? They are even curling at the bottom like snakes! OOO so springy! No wonder you are the best stylist in the world," I played with his golden locks before, I spotted a few streaks of silver, but I didn't tell him otherwise he would have a meltdown. After some time, he recalled I had put something in the pocket of the navy blue apron.

"What is this, Lu?" He lowered the flames to let our breakfast simmer and turned around to look at me properly. "Don't give me that stupid grin." He carefully pulled out the envelope and checked its contents. It's nothing he can object to, just cash. Rather, it was Nami who was certain he couldn't object to the wad of cash, though Robin warned me that he might try to wiggle out of using it. When I asked my friends and colleagues Zoro, Franky, Jimbe and Brook, all of them were certain cash was the safest bet for someone who didn't want any gift. Usopp and Chopper my robo-film club friends warned me against the gift of cash idea though. Since we had everything we needed to live comfortably, my brothers too insisted that cash was the best idea because then Sanji could buy something he was putting off for the future; like a Dutch oven or a coffee machine with all the coffee-shop options.