Red and Gold Create Sexual Tension

Groan

Gol was mad. He was angry. He was seething.

Who did this "Ailurus" think she was, snapping at him like that? She had no right to do what she did, not when he was the reason that darned Akuma finally got taken down. All glorious it was, and he even used his damn special power to help her.

Gol liked to pride himself on his tendencies of gentlemanliness, and seeing her in the clutches of a giant purple tentacle, the life literally being squeezed out of her limp form, it struck on his better judgement and he knew what he had to do. Casting his special ability at the Octobitch was a cake walk, his black smog circling her ten-legged form and confusing her to the point that she dropped the damsel in distress. It was relieving to see that the red woman was still alive, half-dead, but still alive. He kept his eye on her as he battled against Cephalomom with his fellow heroes, making sure that she was still breathing, even when Ladybug showed up to perform her usual purification sequence. What concerned him was her black eyes, as wide as an owl's, staring into who knows where. Portraying the Red Panda that she was, her eyes were completely darkened, no whites or irsises to give anyone any indication at where she was looking. Just an endless sea of black, swimming in her wide oculus. She was breathing, but unblinking, and looked as if her soul had been sucked from her body.

It was only after Ladybug disappeared and he approached her that she finally provided evidence that she was indeed alive. Right there, as he outstretched a golden-gloved to assist her once more, there was a twitch.

An angry twitch.

It wasn't there in his initial scan. She seemed fine, shooken, but fine. It was only when he advanced that it raised a small alarm in his head. She was angry. Really angry. And as she knocked his attempt at abetment away from her view he realized exactly how mad she was.

She was practically frothing at the mouth.

She climbed to her feet, avoiding his gaze and spat her words. Those words. "I had her," as if she wasn't just being a tentacle chew toy for the ten-legged lady. She was nearly venemous, avoiding his gaze, lost and trapped between her own world and the world where she was angry at a man who had just saved her life. Angry at a man who nearly risked his own so wouldn't have to die.

He couldn't help it. It was absurd. She was absurd. What kind of a person not only didn't show the slightest gratitude in being given a second chance at life, but also decided to yell at their savior for doing so? What kind of person did that?

That Ms. Ailurus, apparently. Gol answered his own question begrudgingly, climbing swiftly through his bedroom window. He landed on his carpeted floor with a soft thump, feeling out the walls before he found the light switch, and flooded his room with illumination. He glanced into the mirror at the back of his door, and watched with half-lidded eyes as he de-transformed. Pippin emerged with a swirl from the bracelet strapped to his wrist, stretching her small, paw-like appendages as she floated into his face and pressed her head against his cheek.

Zander Lockwood smiled gently at his golden fairy friend, lifting his arms to cradle her onto the hollow of his cheek. He could feel her body, slightly week from her drain of strength, and rumbling with hunger. Upon his motherly instinct kicking up, Zander crossed the threshold of his room to his nightstand, where the first shelf was stashed with a fresh batch of cherries. He watched in silence as she devoured her charge food, popping cherry after cherry into her small mouth, and when her stomach could hold no more, she curled into the palms of his hand and fell into a deep, rejuvenating slumber.

Zander felt an odd swell of affection towards the god-like creature as he gently placed her into the hollow of his pillow, and left her with a small pat atop her golden head. Pippin was his closest friend. Sure, he had his fellow classmates back at school, but he couldn't really consider them his friends. They were aquaintences at best. Pippin held his affection and friendship in a way that rivaled everyone he knew, but not a single person in the world would ever come close to his ardor for his Pippin. He glanced at her once more, before his civilian clothes were changed to a formal sleeping attire. From there he climbed into the bed next to his Kwami, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling.