Work Text:
Whiplash watched the flex of Shark’s shoulder muscles as she lifted Lemon onto her shoulders out of the corner of their eye, admiring the broad expanse of her back.
Lemon shook the canister of spray paint in his hand and went to work. The spray of the paint was almost as fascinating as Shark was, the quickly appearing art masterfully recreated on the wall. Lemon had created the logo for their punk band, the Headless Clankers, and so he was the one who got to tag it on the wall.
Whiplash had been appointed lookout at the less heavily trafficked end of the alley because they were too anxious about being caught, especially by another member of the Guard. Lime was posted at the other end.
As such, Whiplash had the chance to watch Shark without being observed by anyone else in return. There was something nice, Whiplash had discovered, about having a crush that they knew could never go anywhere.
It felt safe in ways that their other crushes did not, purely because they knew it would never go anywhere, and if Shark did find out, it wouldn’t be a big deal. Sure they would be teased to high heaven, but Whiplash could always tell them to stop if it got to be too much, and they would actually do it instead of just teasing more.
So Whiplash let themself watch.