His Shambled Excuses

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Summary: An unwanted vacation might be what he really wants at the moment because honestly, he could have just refused, right?

Warning: hinted LawLu, modern AU

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His Shambled Excuses

Law would have never considered taking a vacation. Maybe in a few years, or just never. Heck, when he thinks about it, the hours spent in the ER seems more relaxing than this. He could have just said no. He could have just refused. He could have just ignored his incessant pleas – or whines. Yes, it sounded more like whines, actually. Trafalgar Law doesn't do happy summer time nonsense. He's the focus on doing productive things sort of guy, he says to himself.

But no... he just had to fall for those shitty damn eyes. Puppy-dog eyes, especially when on that face, should be deemed illegal. He silently cursed.

He finds himself trapped in the middle of a crowded beach - sweltering heat, noisy kids, sand everywhere and all. The view isn't too bad, he admits, referring to the horizon, he mentally emphasized. He describes it as the glorious meeting of the sky and the sea, and the grand line of adventures, he would add. But no matter how nice he finds it to be, although he muses that it isn't as romantic as she declares, it is not enough to compensate for the most irritable situation he's in now.

"Torao!"

Oh wait, he retracts his previous conclusion. Meeting and gradually being acquainted (he's irked with the idea of them being friends) to that annoying goofball is.

He sighed.

"What now?"

A slick sheen of sweat on the side of his forehead forming as he side-eyed the ball on that boy's hand.

"Join us, Torao! We need one more player, shishishi"

Ah, there he goes again, grinning even.

"Look, I don't really want to..."

But before he could express his refusal and hopefully establish his contentment in his current activity, reading a book, the boy turned to his friends by the beach volley net and practically bellowed for the whole beach to hear.

"Torao's on my team, okay. Let's go everyone!"

With that, everyone moved to their position, getting ready for a round.

"Why is this shitty marimo in my team?"

"Don't be a liability, ero-cook."

"Where did you learn that word?"

"Loser team pays 100 beli each!"

"Ehhh?! No way!"

"We're super not going to lose!"

"I like them, thrills..."

His face fell. Finding himself unable to escape this predicament, he reminds himself to add this to his 'Why I should kill Luffy'-list. The boy, with a straw hat on his back, all sunny smiles , energy and all that shit grabbed his wrist and led him... no, dragged him to the group. Of course, he could still bail out, right?

Knowing the answer to his own question, Law resigned to his fate and managed to survive round after round, not really trying to belt out good service and smashes because he's with him on this team, he reprimands himself. He, plainly, was just competitive as always, he assures no one in particular. Just maybe himself.

Leaving early was his initial plan but it isn't that much trouble if he were to do it after lunch, perhaps. It's not too much trouble trying the tropical line-up that the blonde cook concocted. His friends aren't too bad, actually. Their levels of insanity, he can take, that much he seems sure. Discussing interesting bits of news with some of his friends, was mildly entertaining.

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