Chapter Text
It had been about two weeks since Crash and Peanut had finally " gotten their act together" as Duke liked to put it.
While Crash walked around acting like he’d just won the galaxy’s most confusing lottery, Duke had started keeping an unusually close eye on Peanut.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Crash exactly… okay, maybe it was a little of that.
“Hey, Peanut,” Duke called out one afternoon, striding into the armory as Peanut was sorting his gear. “Got a second?”
Peanut looked up, cheerful as always. “Yeah, what’s up?”
Duke leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed. “Just wondering if Crash’s been treating you right.”
Peanut blinked. “Um… yeah?”
Duke narrowed his eyes. “Has he brought you snacks during downtime?”
“…Yes?”
“Let you win during sparring once or twice to boost your ego?”
“He doesn’t let me win—”
“Does he give you forehead kisses?”
Peanut turned pink. “Wha—why would he—”
“That’s what boyfriends do, Peanut,” Duke said with a dramatic sigh, pushing off the wall.
“And if he’s slacking, you come tell me. I’ll break his kneecaps.”
Peanut blinked. “I thought you liked Crash.”
“I do,” Duke replied. “But I like you more. You’re like the baby duck of the squad. And if he makes that baby duck sad, I will personally launch his sorry ass into orbit.”
Peanut stood still, touched and confused all at once.
Duke gave a firm nod. “You’re under my protection now. Anyone messes with you, they answer to me.”
Just then, Crash entered the room, holding a protein bar. “Hey, babe, I got you the crunchy kind you like.”
Peanut lit up. “Awesome!”
Duke squinted at Crash, stepping between them with suspicious intensity. “Did you call him ‘babe’?”
Crash raised an eyebrow. “...Yes?”
Duke crossed his arms. “Tone sounded a little dismissive. Say it again. With more respect.”
Crash stared. “What?”
Peanut, standing behind Duke, mouthed I’m sorry and gave an awkward shrug.
Duke patted Crash’s shoulder. “No pressure. But just so you know, if he cries, I cry. And if I cry… everybody dies.”
“I just want to make sure everything’s going… respectfully,” he said. “You know. Between teammates.”
Crash raised an eyebrow. “You mean between me and your teammate?”
“I mean between you and Peanut, who is basically a labrador retriever in power armor and doesn’t deserve to get his heart stomped on by someone who uses more hair product than ammo.”
Peanut perked up. “Crash uses hair product?”
Crash looked genuinely offended. “It’s hydrating gel. ”
Duke ignored him and turned to Peanut, putting a hand on his shoulder like a father about to give “the talk.”
“If he ever makes you feel bad,” Duke said, completely serious, “you let me know, alright?”
Peanut blinked up at him. “Okay. But he hasn’t. Crash is great.”
Crash looked over at Duke. “See? I’m great.”
Duke didn’t even blink. “You’re being monitored. ”
Crash sighed and leaned his chin on his hand. “Awesome. Great. Love that for me.”
Peanut gave him a bright smile. “You are great.”
And just like that, Crash couldn’t even be mad.