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Summary
Sanji was fifteen when Zeff suggested working at Camp Mugiwara for the summer. He’d said it was so Sanji could get experience in different types of culinary professions.
“Some fresh air will be good for ya, Eggplant!”
Sanji thinks he was fifteen and Zeff wanted him out of his goddamn kitchen for a few months.
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A Zosan Modern Camp AU. Vignettes of camp humor, walkie talkies, texting mid-year, and an overarching coming of age story. Tags for full story. -
Bookmark Notes:
“Oi!” Luffy hollers as they come out from the treeline.
The moment Sanji steps into the spotlight he can see the shift in Zoro’s features. What was a scowl of confusion twists into wide-eyed distress, “the hell? Curly, what happened?” Zoro’s hands reach out, but then hesitate just as fast. Uncertain palms hovering over bandages with a tremble.
Sanji opens his mouth to brush off his injuries as some sort of accident when Luffy explains, “Sanji needs a safe place to stay, Zoro.”
It is the /absolute worst possible way/ to summarize their discussion, since Zoro expectedly catches on, filling in the blanks immediately.
“Who the fuck hurt you?” Zoro snarls, eyes narrowed sharp and direct, shoulder’s tense.
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“We’re pirates, Curls,” Zoro corrects as he laughs, a rumbling chuckle in his chest that Sanji feels with the hand over his heart. “Do you remember what I said being a pirate was about?”
“I-,” Sanji blinks, “I honestly don’t.”
“That being a pirate means taking what you want and being the best at it,” Zoro tells him, his voice strong and warm. “I’m taking your heart, Curls; and I’m gonna be the /best/ at loving it.”
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