Birds of Feather

Chapter 22: Old Flames

The two of you changed into casual clothes and headed for the bookstore café, Cups and Covers. Sadly, Gram wasn't working, so you couldn't tease Marco as the two of you got two more cups of coffee.

You spent a good few hours meandering around the shop, flipping through different books and talking idly about what you both enjoyed reading. You picked out calendars for one another for the upcoming year. Something you could both inconspicuously hang up at work, and hopefully have good thoughts about the other for at least as long as the calendar lasts.

Over the course of your visit you ended up having two cups of honey tea as well, and by the end of it all your voice was mostly recovered. Which was a relief for several reasons, first and foremost of which, was that you weren't sure how effectively you would've been able to beg and pout if he insisted on having you take it easy again Sunday.

With a few more books added to the calendars, the two of you left the café.

"Where is Nasugasira?" You question as Marco pulls out of the bookstore lot. You'd heard Sanji talk about the place, but you'd never gone yourself.

"Close to the dock-side carnival." He explains. "Most of Zeff's places are catered more toward sailors than islanders."

"Salty sailors and sassy staff," you say quoting the advertisements you'd seen for the place. "It's a teppanyaki place, right?"

"Partially, there's a pub side, some general seating and teppanyaki tables." He looks over at you. "Up for a crowd tonight, or?"

"I'd, ah," you clear your throat. "Just like to be able to talk with you."

"Greedy, huh?"

You shrug. "Maybe a little." Slipping your fingers into his, you do your best not to look nearly as flustered as you are. "I just don't want to listen to strangers ascribe cute couple aspects to us until we've sorted most of that out ourselves."

"Cute couple." He muses, and you run your free hand down your face even as you feel it heating up.

"I mean, you're doing most of the heavy lifting for it." You tease, managing to recover a little faster than you thought. Marco laughs, pulling your hand over and kissing your knuckles.

"So she says," he muses. "Hey, I was meaning to ask, why'd you pick a giant stuffed pineapple, yoi?"

"I refuse to say." You say hastily, looking away before he can see anything on your face.

"That just makes me more curious."

"I'm sure it does." You admit without offering anything more.

Marco's fingers slip free of yours, and he starts walking his fingers up your arm. It's a simple action, but just like at the carnival, you can feel the warmth of his fingers more acutely than you should be able to with a long-sleeved shirt on. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, but it was entirely unfair.

"I won't laugh," he muses, fingers slowly stepping their way up to your shoulder. "Or get mad, yoi."

"I, I didn't think you'd get mad," you admit, pressing your lips together as those long fingers tug a little at your shirt collar, teasing your skin idly. "It was... purely functional."

Marco's fingers freeze. "Functional?"

You put both of your hands over your face. "It can be used as a pillow, or I could snuggle it and since I can't snuggle you every night, it just... seemed pra-practical."

"... Alright." You can hear it in his voice and turn toward him to see his ears and neck red.

"... Why'd you ask?" You question after a moment's pause.