Disclaimer: (wow, never thought I'd do one of these...) Star and Zander are the brainspawn of Jesse Hajicek and his webcomic Metanoia. Go and check it out, it kinda rocks something awesome.
"Where d'you think you're going dressed like that?"
Zander stopped with his hand on the doorknob and turned to shoot a questioning look at Star. He fingered the fishnet of his shirt; raised an eyebrow: a challenge. "What's it to you?"
Star opened his mouth to throw a retort but found he had none.
The redhead scowled, refusing to be beaten. "Maybe I don't want to worry about you when you're out there all alone, with nothing but scanty threads and slutty leather between your skin and pneumonia. Maybe I care, Zan. Maybe I want you to be—" He closed his eyes, looked to the right; sniffed a solemn sniff. "—safe."
Zan's smile sank into a gape and his eyes bugged wide.
"See, I do have a heart, Alexander. I want you to know that." Star started to saunter towards him, refusing to let their eyes break contact. "I need you to know how much I care."
There was no escape. Even the door handle was slippery in Zander's suddenly sweaty palms.
"Because I don't think you know, Zan. I really don't." Star shot him a hurt, pleading look and stood staring up at Zan's shocked face. "Do I need to show you?"
"Umm, what?" Zan gibbered as Star tiptoed until they were face to face. Milk white skin reached for cinnamon tones, and their lips almost touched...
Star's face twitched and he burst into peal of triumphant laughter.
"..." said Zan.
Star carried on laughing.
"That was not funny, Star."
"Seriously, cut it out."
"You should have seen your face! Ah!" More laughter. Star collapsed into a spasming heap of chuckles, and this was such an amusing sight that Zan found himself chortling too.
With a wry smile he rested his hand on the door.
A pale hand stopped him.
"Dude, I was serious, you ain't going nowhere like that."