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Shanks leaned back on his hands, watching Buggy really stoke himself into a rage. His face got so red when he got mad… it was almost too much to bear.
“—absolute idiot, Shanks!!” Buggy spun around—well, kind of. His feet weren’t moving, but his upper body was pacing a tight circle in front of Shanks, arms locked behind his back (probably because they’d fly every which way if he didn’t hold them in place; Mr. Rayleigh had lectured him about not losing track of his body parts, but it was all still pretty new). “And another thi—oh, what now?”
“Huh?” Shanks looked down at himself, not seeing anything incriminating. Buggy was glaring at him pretty hard, though, so there must be something. A hand lifted to his face revealed that Shanks was grinning. He hadn’t realized. Shanks did his best to get his face under control. “Sorry, Buggy. What were you saying?”
Buggy flushed a darker red—oh, unfair, now his cheeks were nearly as dark as his nose! “You weren’t even listening, were you?!”
Shanks shrugged.
Buggy groaned, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “You’re impossible. And what was so funny, anyway?”
Oh, too easy. “You.”
Buggy let out a frustrated screech. “Excuse me?!”
“The way you flush when you get mad,” Shanks said, laughing a little at the baffled look on Buggy’s face. “Your whole face gets as red as your nose, it’s like you’re a tomato ripening at super speed.”
“Whose nose is as red and round as a tomato?!!” Buggy snapped.
Shanks blinked. “Yours, I just said so.”
Buggy yelled, a wordless cry, and stormed off, his shoulders trembling. Seemed like Shanks had pushed him pretty far. Hm… to push further, or to let it go? Shanks looked at Buggy’s ears, the only visible part of his face at this angle, a vivid red at the tips, and knew himself well enough to know what he was going to do. It wasn’t a matter of it being a good idea or not… he just couldn’t resist.
Shanks leaned back on his hands again, putting on the casual affect he knew riled Buggy up something fierce. “Something I said?”
Buggy paused mid-step.
“I like tomatoes, you know.”
And before Shanks could blink, Buggy was in his face, hands dug into the collar of his shirt, pulling him close enough to count Buggy’s eyelashes… which were wet.
Oh, no.
“Do you?” Buggy asked, voice trembling, but with barely suppressed tears, not the rage Shanks had been expecting. “Do you like my stupid red tomato nose and my embarrassing red tomato face?? Huh?!”
Oh no. Shanks froze. He was totally screwed. If he told the truth, Buggy would think he was just teasing him more, like an absolute ass. If he lied, it would hurt Buggy’s feelings… more than he already had. And if he tried to defuse the situation, Buggy would think he pitied him, which would be worse than either of the other options by far.
Was there a fourth option? Could he prevent this moment from becoming a complete disaster?
“I…”
“Well?” Buggy spat, leaning in so close their noses touched.
There was one other thing Shanks could do… it might backfire on him even worse than the others, but there was a small chance things would turn out for the better. All he had to do was tell the truth, and act on it before Buggy could blow up at him about it.
“I…”
Actually, maybe he should reverse those steps. Buggy could be real fast about blowing up at you if he had a mind to.
Decided, Shanks angled his head and leaned in.
Buggy’s lips were chapped and warm… and wet, and a little salty. Not to mention stiff as a board. Maybe this hadn’t been Shanks’ best idea ever. He pulled back, licking his lips reflexively, and opened his eyes to look at Buggy.
He was gaping at Shanks, wide-eyed, dumbstruck.
Shanks rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I do, actually. A lot.”
A strangled little squawk came out of Buggy’s mouth; he let go of Shanks’ shirt to slap his hands over it, and, still staring at Shanks, fled.
Once alone, Shanks sighed, and pressed a hand to his mouth. Definitely not his best idea, but… he smiled. Not something he regretted, either.