Hello, all. I'm back. And confused. I really don't know what you people want from me. I'm writing this story for myself, so any criticism you give me beyone basic grammer and spelling errors I'm not going to listen to (any author who would change their work because of criticism is no real author). I get complaints about how people hate RAPR and they wish I would die (I thought the internet would've been a good place to find acceptance. Instead I hear the same old straight-winged jargon I get everyday in the real world) and then I get comments about how my story sucks because Red isn't horny enough. I write the characters the way I saw them in the series. I don't see Red as a buff, gent-humping commando mass murderer, and I don't see Purple as a delecate, lady-like flower crybaby. They're just ordinary gents like me and Jayce.
In this chapter, Red is a little muddy-minded, but this is as far as it'll ever get for this love story. If you're looking for some hard-core Irken sex monsters, you've come to the wrong place...

CHAPTER TEN: So Close

Red came out of his room with a bath robe. He was going to take out his anxieties with a bubble bath. He walked to the bathroom door, and pressed the code on the keypad that made others who wanted to enter to have a password. Nobody was going to disturb this for him. Across the hall, he heard a loud clanging noise coming from the kitchen. Purple must have been coming up with something wild to eat, now. Red wasn't so sure if his assumption was wise about letting Purple cook. After the chocolate glop explosion he witnessed, it seemed like Purple wasn't a very good chef at all. It was hard to believe that he ever actually worked with Miyuki, as far as cooking went. He sighed and stepped into the bathroom.

It smelt like an exotic garden. The guys downstairs must have put something good into the oil mix. He noticed a folded note by the tub. He snatched it and read the Irken text quickly.

'I got some people to help out. Call me anytime. -X-'

A positive message from Xloof. At least a little part of a resistance had begun. He dunked the note in the oil, making it dissolve slowly. Nobody could see it. After he was sure the note was completely gone, and slipped out of his robes and into the warm tub. It felt nice actually being in the tub that he spent so many years filling up in the boiler room. It took himself a minute to get used to the different temperature, but it was well worth it. He sighed and loosened his muscles. Relaxing was good, especially with Purple running about giving him weird thoughts. Perhaps resting would get rid of them. However, now that he finally had some quite time to himself, those thoughts seemed to be coming more and more often. He couldn't get the image of the look on his face out, either.

He was always taught that the best way to get something out of your head was to do it. If you had an urge to fly to a resort planet, do it. If you have a song stuck in your head, listen to it. If you have a sudden urge to screw your fellow Tallest, do it.

The thought gave Red shivers. He couldn't imagine it. Well, he could imagine it, but he couldn't picture himself actually doing it. The thought led his mind away from doing crude things to Purple's body to more of a philosophical stand point on where he stood on the issue. Sure, Purple was easy enough to pin on a wall. He was weak and helpless, as far brute strength went. Red knew he was stronger, but that didn't give him a right to take advantage him. If he ever wanted to get these images out of his skull, it would have to be on Purple's terms.

He sighed and slunk deeper into the oil. This wasn't a very easy predicament to come over. It didn't help that there was a loud banging echo coming from across the hall.

"What is he doing in there?" Red asked out loud, lifting his head out of the oil a little. He heard a loud crash and then a bang on the door. He began to stand up slightly, antennae flicking with every sound. Then there was a crashing sound on his door, making it shake slightly. He could hear a vicious pounding on the keypad outside. From the various grunts and unintelligible mumble, it was Purple. With a loud, static pop, the door flung open and Purple stumbled in lazily. It swished back shut and shot off slight electric charges. That door wouldn't be opened again any time soon, at least not without a mechanic. Red scowled.

"Pur, what do you want?"

Purple turned towards Red and staggered in his general direction. "I…" he began. He flinched wildly. "Gah, my back stings!" he shouted. He opened his eyes again and saw Red. "Oh, there you are!" he said loudly, having a hard time standing up straight. "Look, Red, where do you get off…" –he hiccupped- "…Where do you get off telling me what to do? I haven't lost the fight yet! But you're all…" Purple stopped and started climbing up the small staircase that led into the tub.

"For the love of-- are you drunk again?" Red asked. He tried to hide himself from Purple as he loomed over him, but that was pretty much impossible.

"You're all… BOSSY!" Purple shouted. He took a step off the rim of the tub and into the oil.

"Did you drink all of the Décès that you mixed? That should have been lethal…" Red sighed.

"And yeh know what… REDDY? You're… You're…" He took another step down into the oil. The bottom of his pant legs were getting soaked by the oil. He stopped and looked at Red again. "Hey, you're nekkid," he commented. He took another step down and tripped on the last stair. He landed with a strong splash into the bath. Red's face got wet and Purple was drenched in the scented oil. Red panicked, about to jump out of the bath, but stopped when he realized that Purple wasn't getting up out of the bath. He wrapped his arms around him and pulled him up. Purple gasped for air and coughed up some of the oil.

"Are you alright?" Red cried. He turned and nodded.

"Hey, you're eyes still glow," Purple said. He paused for a moment to look at Red's face. They were extremely close, and Red couldn't help but blush slightly. "Maybe it isn't the lighting."

Red chuckled and tapped his forehead softly on Purple's. "You're insane," he sighed. The next thing Red knew, he was pressed up against the wall of the bathroom. Purple had grabbed his arms and hoisted them above his head, pinning him down. He gasped and looked up at Purple, who had a clouded, dead look in his eyes that he had when he was drunk.

"You're nice, Reddy," he said. He moved his hands so that they wrapped around Red's face. "I like you." He leaned in slowly and kissed him. Red reacted normally. It was like this was meant to happen. He slithered his tongue into Purple's mouth, taking it to a new level. Purple took a break to breath, and Red immediately attacked his neck. He nipped at it, licked it slightly, and kept going until is made a small mark. He smiled when he heard Purple gasp and moan.

This was too easy. Red stupidly stopped for a moment to think. Purple was drunk, but he still wanted to make out with him. Did this make it right? Was this 'only doing it on Purple's terms' like he had decided only moments before? He was drunk, which made his thinking impaired. Would the real Purple ever want to do this?

Red stopped thinking such thoughts when Purple straddled his hips and pressed down. Being in the tub was doing nothing for him. He kept slipping down and his head almost went underwater. He lifted Purple up and dragged him to the edge of the tub.

"What are you doing?" he asked. Red looked down on him and smiled, kissing him on the cheek.

"Just moving somewhere drier." The small case of stairs leading up and out of the tub helped immensely. Purple gained control of himself and started crawling haplessly, slipping because of the oil. He finally slipped completely and fell on his back. He panted, slightly, still not quite over his near-drowning experience.

"Red!" he slurred. "Where are you!" Red was right next to him, looking at him. His mind was racing. The voice inside his head kept screaming that Purple was drunk and not to go any further. He rubbed his head and continued thinking. It was going to be impossible to get any business done in a situation like this. His thoughts were cut off when he Purple stopped shouting aimlessly and start whining. "My back hurts!" he exclaimed. "It stings, OWIE!"

Red finally turned around to face Purple. He wouldn't stop squirming on the floor. He wasn't sure if this was some sort of reaction to the Décès or just Purple being an ass. He sighed and put on his robe. He wouldn't be taking advantage of Purple today. After tying the rope around his waist, he knelt down next to Purple and forced him to look in his eyes.

"Where does it hurt?" he asked, defeated.

"My back!" Purple yelled, not comprehending anything. Red sighed and rolled him onto his stomach. He pulled his shirt up enough to get a good look and see what the problem was. What he saw shocked him; alarmed him in the least. There was a large, yellow whelp the size of his fist right next to his PAK. In the middle there was a small dot, a puncture wound. Purple wasn't drunk. He was drugged, possibly poisoned. Somebody had stuck a needle in him. That's what the loud clanging was in the kitchen. Purple wasn't cooking, he was being attacked.

"Dammit!" Red shouted. He held Purple up and tried to see if he was still conscious. His eyes were open, put he was still spewing gibberish words. He pounded his fist on the keypad to open the bathroom door, but it wouldn't. It was still busted from how Purple somehow managed to break inside. He kept pounding his fist until cuts from the wires and chips began to form. He finally gave up with that approach, and instead rammed his back into the door. The door cracked in half, and by default began to slide back into the wall. It was stopped by the large dent Red had caused, but it left just enough room for him and Purple to slide through.

Once out in the hallway, Red began to think once again. He wasn't about to ask any of the Irkens around for help, knowing that one of them was trying to kill Purple. He'd have to take Purple to the medic wing himself.

To Be Continued;
Now and forever, Yer lurvin' BetaL