Entry Twenty-three
Title: Last Rites
Theme: # 7 Salt
Claim: Luffy x Sanji
Words: 277
Rating: PG
Warnings: AU.
Disclaimer: One Piece belongs to Oda-san. I make no profit.
Part of the supernatural!verse!
He hated ghosts. They were very nearly invincible, unless you shot them full of rock-salt loaded shotgun shells, or hit them with something made of pure iron.
Sanji panted as he hid himself behind an overturned couch, the cut above his eyebrow bleeding over into his eye. He didn’t know what the hell Luffy was thinking, bringing him to hunt like this. He had no idea what he was doing.
The blonde poked his head around the couch, his shotgun clutched tight in his hands. He wasn’t cut out to hunt ghosts and all those other supernatural things. He just wanted to be a cook at Baratie, for Pete’s sake.
Luffy bounded into the room a minute later, a shotgun in one hand and a jug of salt in the other. He grinned reassuringly at Sanji as he set it down and wiped a hand across his face.
“Is it gone?” Sanji asked, standing up and dusting off his clothes with his free hand. There was dirt and plaster and dried blood smeared over his one pristine suit.
“Yeah, we can go.” The raven nodded, hefting the jug back up and heading for the door. The floorboards creaked under his weight, threatening to collapse. Luffy stopped and reached out for his hand, pulling him a little closer. “You did well for a beginner. Just need a little more practice.”
“I should be cooking, not killing ghosts.” Sanji informed him, leaning down to brush their lips together, smelling the salt on Luffy’s skin mixed with the iron and copper tang of the blood under his nose.
He supposed it wasn’t an ideal life, but at least he wasn’t dead.