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“C’mon Crocodile, fight me like you mean it!” Marco cried, beating his wings a couple times to hover just above the ground. He was grinning widely, playfully. “You know I can take it!”
Crocodile made a face at him, sand shedding off his hands. He’d only just eaten the thing in the last month, and this was really the first chance he’d had to test it on someone who wasn’t part of the crew. Besides, Marco was right – he’d be able to take it no problem with his devil fruit.
“Fine!” Crocodile shouted back. He shifted into sand, dropping and swirling and appearing under Marco to extend and surround the other teenager.
Marco beat his wings, spreading the sand that was Crocodile around and pulling out of reach. He laughed brightly, alighting on a shipwrecked hull. The island was a quiet one deep in Pops’ territory that Captain Rouge had asked to borrow for a bit while her apprentice learned his new-found abilities.
The sand swirled back into Crocodile with a laugh. He was still shedding a little, but his eyes were bright and there was a delighted smile on his face. Marco’s own smile broadened at the sight before he made the brash decision to tackle his friend onto the beach. No talons, and barely any fire feathers as he slammed bodily into the other teenager, knocking him down and rolling them both further down the beach right as a particularly large wave crashed upon the shore.
They sputtered as the water pulled away, rolling them slightly so that Marco was under Crocodile – not an ideal position, but he’d work with it.
Then he looked up at Crocodile’s face.
Crocodile was still grinning, but his hair had fallen out of its usual style from the wave and was dripping in rivulets down onto Marco’s face. He was a little breathless from the wave, but he was a nice, solid weight above Marco.
Crocodile stared down at Marco, and slowly blinked a few times as his face flushed and his smile faded.
Marco slowly did the same.
“Ah. Um,” Crocodile tried to speak, but they were hit with another rogue wave, knocking Crocodile off of Marco.
They sputtered again, shaking off the sea water.
“I need to go,” Crocodile blurted before hightailing it away from the beach over to where the Hibiscus was moored.
Marco was left behind, gaping like a fish.
His friend was… hot?
Could he think that?
Was he allowed to think that?
He was definitely going to have to ask someone – probably not Pops, but someone. Jozu, maybe.
Marco shifted his arms into wings and with a thrust, was in the air and taking off towards the Moby Dick.