Happy Monday, guys! Here's another new kiss for you. And again – thank you to everyone who still appreciates these :) I'm writing for you!

A Kiss In A Rush Of Adrenaline

Her heart was pounding in her chest and she ran.

Shitshitshitshit.

That youma was practically raining fire on her and where was Sailor Mars when you needed her?! And the others, too?!

Sailor Moon screamed as one of the fire missiles hit her shoulder blade and she fell to her knees, skidding across the floor, trying to get away —

She'd be toast if she stopped now, pain or not, she knew that.

Behind her, the youma cackled – or maybe it was Zoisite, floating obnoxiously above the battlefield full of glee in a rain of cherry blossom petals.

Sailor Moon howled, when another, if smaller fireball hit her at the back of the knee, and then that was it. She collapsed, screaming, terrified, and braced herself — arms covering her face, cowering. She couldn't run fast enough now, she'd be—

But then she wasn't. Then there was a warm, broad chest and the fluttering of thick fabric and someone else's voice as it grunted in pain in her stead.

Her heart stuttered on her tongue as she took in his chiseled face right above her, the hair that fell into it, lips and eyes and jaw contorted in pain. For her—

No. This wouldn't do.

In a rush of adrenaline, ignoring the searing pain in her back, her knee, she yanked at his arm and pulled him back up, clutched at his hand, and then she just kept on running.

They couldn't stay here.

But still it kept on raining stupid, mean, painful fire and she yelped and breathed hard and she was scared goddammit and she hurt and raised her arms over her head, but then there was his cape as he ran with her, held it above her.

He shoved her aside, a full-body tackle, when the next blast of fire formed into a screaming, living, angry, burning entity all on its own, heading straight for Sailor Moon.

"No!" she screamed, feral and wide-eyed — he'd get hit like that — and with a yank more powerful than the actual strength in her muscles, she pulled at his cape and literally tossed him aside.

The fire missed him by a fraction. But it also missed her.

They looked at the blackened, seared spot where he'd just been with wide-eyed horror, and then at each other. It was a second, no more: Zoisite yelled disappointed and angry instructions, and for just a second there, the fire stilled.

Usagi was too slow to react. Tuxedo Mask wasn't.

He was on his feet immediately, hefting her up like a doll, and one powerful jump of those graceful legs and they were in the air.

"Now," he whispered, and her heart stuttered once more.

She nodded. He didn't let go.

Still in the air, still in his arms, where he carried her up where she needed to be — above the youma; no attack from beneath was able to permeate the fire, Usagi raised the Moon stick high above her head and screamed her attack.

Tuxedo Mask held on tight, withstood the blast back from the brute force that emitted from her weapon. As if she was his weapon, he held her aloft, gloves pressing into her hip and thigh. By the time they fell back towards the ground, his cape flapping around them, the youma was gone, and Zoisite shouting in rage.

Her feet didn't touch the ground, only his did. His footfall was silent, stealthy, and he bent in the knee and jumped them back high into the sky, hands flexing against her skin while the Moon Stick hadn't even stopped glowing yet. One fluid motion and she was more securely in his arms as he jumped again and whisked her away.

Her heart was still pounding, maybe even more so, when his feet again touched solid surface on a concrete roof. When he lowered her slowly to her feet, her back and leg was throbbing, her breath was erratic, but she didn't notice either.

She noticed his terrified and spooked eyes, the way he checked her injuries and forgot about his, the way her heart was hammering away from both the fright and his proximity and it was a cocktail in her veins that made her reckless and stupid and too forward.

Before she even noticed what it was that she was doing, her gloved hand curled around the back of his neck and she yanked him down to her. His top hat fell away, thudding onto the concrete, before his lips even connected with hers.

A surprised noise bubbled from his throat right into her mouth, his body growing rigid and then soft, so soft, and he melted against her. His gloved hands settled against her waist and curled, pulling at her, and his lips finally kissed her back.

Soft. His lips very awfully soft, his tongue intoxicatingly warm.

It was her who ended the kiss just as it was her who had started it.

She didn't know what had gotten into her. It was a short explosion of insanity which she stopped as quickly as her sense came back to her; and even if it felt like much longer, it couldn't have been more than ten seconds. Her face was hot before she even withdrew. But she still managed to whisper a breathy "thank you," against his lips.

His lips chased hers, just a moment, barely a heartbeat long, and it made her heart pound even harder.

"For what?" he croaked. His voice for once lacked all authority, all grandeur. It was soft and high-pitched and sounded like that of a boy. A very confused, very overwhelmed boy.

It made her nerves calm down strangely, as she settled back onto the heels of her boots and smiled up at him, flushed as she was. But her voice remained strong.

"For saving my life again."

He cleared his voice, straightened back up, but didn't move away from her. His gloved hand flew to his lips, however. Hovering but not touching.

"Yo- you're welcome," he croaked again.

And then he nodded, swallowing, and the grandeur was back. Maybe she imagined it, but it looked like he was flicking his cape in quite the extra extra way as he turned to leave.

But she stopped him before he could get too far.

"Tuxedo Mask…" she called out softly, and he stopped at the edge of the roof where he'd moved to bend his knees into a crouch for a jump.

He straightened back up, turned back to her immediately, a bit too fast, even.

"Hm?" he rasped.

She couldn't read his eyes. But there was…

She didn't know what she wanted to say. Just that she really didn't want him to leave. And that she should probably apologize for kissing him.

But she didn't. Instead she sighed and said something entirely different.

"I hope we can be friends," she said in a voice that betrayed her nervous heart completely. Too steady and strong.

He touched his lips - they curled, and he looked at her almost amused. "You want to be friends?" he asked, as if it was funny.

She pressed her lips together, regarding him with a frown, and his look instantly sobered.

And then they just stood there in that painfully charged atmosphere, neither saying anything, neither turning to go, and his eyes looked as wary and searching as her whole body felt.

"I don't want to be your enemy," she eventually whispered.

He opened his lips, closed them. Her heart jumped when he took that step back towards her.

But when he stooped back down, his lips didn't touch against hers - they touched against the shell of her ear instead.

"Me neither," he whispered, breath hot against her ear.

And then that theatrical flap of his cape, and he violently jumped away from her and into the night.

She watched him go, heart pounding harder in her chest than it had when she ran from that youma.

Obvious Setting Tag: Classic, Pre-Reveal

(Because we need more Tux and Sailor Moon interactions, because we need more female agency, because the anime deserves a bit of manga in it, because these two could use a bit more chemistry pre-reveal in the anime! Hope you enjoyed!)