Stealing Sunglasses

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Zoot and Lips are getting dressed in the morning, Lips however is feeling playful and decides to hold a piece of Zoot's clothing hostage so Zoot has to try and get it back.

"Lips! Get your butt back in here with my shades!" Zoot yells at the trumpet player. Lips dashes into the living room and ducks behind the couch. In his hand are a familiar pair of shades that belong to a certain saxophone player. Where are the others? Floyd, Animal, and Janice went to visit Floyd's parents in the desert again and Dr. Teeth went to meet up with Clifford in New York. That left Lips and Zoot by themselves for the first time in literal years. They hung out, went on a date again, and enjoyed each other's company. Zoot walks in dressed in his usual shirt, shawl, and pants and fixing his hat. The one thing missing is the sunglasses that blanket over his eyes.

It's a funny story, really. Lips and Zoot were in the bathroom getting ready. Zoot was messing with his hair and had left his glasses on the sink. Now, Lips had just finished brushing his teeth and saw those shades just sitting there. He thought, "He wouldn't mind if I took them just this one time" and snatched the eyewear, running out of the bathroom. All Zoot noticed was the quick movement before realizing what Lips had done and began yelling at him.

"Be glad that Animal isn't here or I would've found you on the spot," he spits out, walking to the kitchen. Seeing his opportunity, Lips makes a beeline to the hall closet, carefully shutting the door. This is not the first time Lips has done this. It's actually the twelfth time, which doesn't help his situation one bit.

"You know I can't go in public like this, Lips! Why don't ya come out here and face me?" Zoot growls. The shaggy-haired man swallows hard as he watches through the crack of the door. He slips the shades in his jean pocket and stays quiet. The small space is suddenly illuminated and Lips is forcefully pulled out. Zoot yanks him by his shirt and pins him to the nearby wall.

"Shades. Now," he demands.

"Oh, hey Sax man! Totally didn't... see you there..."

"Shades, Lips". Zoot glares into squinted eyes. Alas, his stare had no effect on his goateed friend, who was showing a guilty smile.

"What shades? I don't... got any shades!"

"Lips..."

"If I see any shades, I'll tell ya!"

"I'm not playing, trumpet boy".

"Hold on, trumpet boy?"

"Ugh, I hate you so much". Chapped lips swiftly meet soft ones as Lips' arms slide around Zoots torso. He's pressed up against the wall more while the air grows warm. Lips lets out a groan, failing to notice the hand that slipped into his pocket. The warmth suddenly leaves and Lips opens his eyes to Zoot with the glasses on his face.

"You sly dog".

"Well, you didn't hand my shades over. What else was I supposed to do?"

"Ask politely. But after what happened, I might need to steal them more often".

"Or you could ask. Politely".

"Maybe I will".

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