Something about Keigo's proximity seemed only grating in that moment. Ichigo was thoroughly flustered, his face flushed and his tongue twisted in a knot that refused to untangle. When Keigo sat up further and laughed, it was an affront to Ichigo's jumbled senses. One that only compounded at Keigo's assertions and carefree mockery. Even the pose Keigo struck contributed.

"Th-that's different!" Before Ichigo knew what he was doing, he had reached out and shoved Keigo away from him, back down on the couch. What was he even saying? "Y-you're the one that's ridiculous, thinking you c-can just compare us like that!"

It wasn't really what he'd meant, but Ichigo didn't know how to say what he did mean. A combination of injured masculinity and misguided self-disgust vied for the dubious prise of crushing down any pride he might have taken from such a direct compliment.