Hello! I am so sorry! It's been so long, but exams exams exams! So yeah (please don't kill me...) pls.

So again, Fairy tail is not mine, if it was, then you would know XD...

So, without any further ado, ON WITH THE STORY!

Freed's entry way

Laxus' head snapped to the direction of the offending object, tiny sparks of pure energy cackling across his skin, mirroring his annoyance. "Who the actual fuck..."

'Whoa now boy, I don't think that your little mate would appreciate you knocking down his front door...'

"'Che, fine" Laxus growled, and stalked with killing intent towards the door. As he stomped to open the door, a sickly sweet scent hit his nostrils, and his eyes lit up with recognition.

I swear to god, if it is who I think it is...

"Hi Laxus!" rang in his ears as he finally inched open the door. Great...

"Hi Mira" Laxus replied in a strained tone of voice, a single muscle in his eyebrow twitching in annoyance. What exactly was this bit- Lady doing at HIS mate's house? If she even tries to step any further... Shit will go down...

'Ooh, maybe you should mark your territory? You know, whip it out and give the walls and furniture a good spra- ack!" Taevarth was cut off suddenly.

Finish that thought, I dare you...

"Laxus, what are you doing here? Oh, are you visiting Freed, he didn't look so good this morning, oh, and before I forget, I bought a little something for him to make him feel better." She said in that (annoying) sweet voice. "If you want, you can go back home now, I can take care of Freed for you if you have things to be doing..." She lilted, holding up a pink cloth bag with tendrils of steam spiralling towards the sky in wispy strands of white smoke.

'This bitch' Taevarth interjected with no small amount of venom.

Still keeping up the blank facade, Laxus replied, "Thanks, but no thanks, Mira," He gently took (read snatched) the bag from Mira's hands, while spinning around to slam the door behind him. "Bitch..." he muttered under his breath.

"But Laxus-"a small voice was heard through the thick wood of the door. As Laxus leaned against the wall of the corridor, Laxus untied the bow of the pink bag (Ugh, pink) and took a peek inside. A container of a brown broth steamed pleasantly in the confines of the thick noodles and tender chicken, the delicious aroma of chicken noodle soup wafted in gentle waves up to Laxus' sensitive nose.

"It's disgusting."

Que the furious storming of heavy footsteps to the window, chicken noodle soup clutched tightly in one hand, with the other clenched tightly to his side, fury burned hot through his veins, and boiled the blood around his heart as he tried to keep in his rumbles and growls.

As Laxus finally reached the large window on the opposite wall, he shoved it open with fervour, and flung the bag outside. A satisfying crash sounded a few seconds later. (Along with an indignant screech of a cat)

'Come on now my young padawan, show your mate how well you can protect and provide... I'm sure you can do better than that hussy'

Laxus huffed and spun on his heel as he strode purposefully towards the kitchen, filled with intent to provide his mate with sustenance fit for a king...

Three hours later...

Laxus stood with his feast fit for a king on one of the wooden trays that he had found while ransacking the cupboards for ingredients for his master piece.

'you know, this is not what I meant by "Provide a meal fit for a king"...' Taevarth droned in a monotonous voice, as he gazed through his young charge's eyes at the tray.

Laxus strode forwards, leaving the warzone of a kitchen behind him, as he advanced to the stairs. Masses of pots and pans resided in the sink, caked with an unidentified substance, the cupboards empty of utensils of any kind.

There sat a bowl of cereal, almost crushed to powder, and a single apple. "Shut up" He replied as he strode up the stairs to Freed's bedroom, tray clutched tightly in his hands as he tried to hide his embarrassment.

As he walked up the stairs, he noticed a distinct lack of pictures lining the walls. Funny, he always thought of Freed as the type of person to have pictures everywhere. (Excluding the poster of him in Freed's bedroom which he was secretly pleased about.)

There was a single picture at the end of the staircase, a small photograph of the Thunder legion, Evergreen, and Bixlow grinning at the camera with wide grins, eyes clenched shut in happiness as they hung off the shoulders of a softly smiling freed, Laxus stood next to them, his arms folded, and his head turned a little off to the side.

Laxus remembered the day that the picture had been taken, they had just gotten back from a successful mission where they had literally done nothing, the request had been fake, and had been posted just so that the Thunder Legion would come to their town, where they had practically worshipped Laxus like a god.

They still got paid though.

Shaking his head at the fond memories, Laxus slowly opened the door to Freed's bedroom, as to not wake him if he was still asleep, and winced at the low squeaking of the door, only to find clear crystal blue eyes staring back at him...

Freed, inched open his eyes, feeling as if lead weights had been attached to each eyelid. A blurry image of Laxus floated into his vision. Sitting up instantly (But not without great effort), Freed flushed in embarrassment at being caught in such a state by his Thunder God.

...Only to realise that it was the poster hanging on his wall.

Freed's shoulders slumped in a mix of relief and disappointment, as he turned his head to the side, coughing weakly.

A slow creaking of the door to his room caught his attention, and his heart leaped into his throat as he recognised the spiked blond hair through the crack of the door.

Oh. My. God.

A crimson blush instantly spread across Freed's cheeks, leaving a trail of burning fire in its wake. Noticing the tray clutched tightly in the lightning dragon slayer's hands, Freed shook his head slightly in wonder at the sight before him.

The sickening feeling of nausea lingering in the pit of his stomach was dashed away by the mere presence of his God, the creeping signs of a headache disappearing in milliseconds.

Laxus averted his eyes, and held the tray out, like an offering to a great deity. "Here" he said gruffly, and took a single step forward.

Laxus cleared his throat, and set the tray down on Freed's lap "eat".

Freed looked down at the tray, and smiled at the "food" presented. As he raised a shaking hand to grasp the spoon, he tried to raise it to the bowl of perfectly intact cereal, but his hand shook too much to keep any of it on the spoon.

By the time that he had managed to get the spoon anywhere near his open mouth, there was nothing left.

"Sorry" Freed apologised in a voice, as thin and melodious as the trill of a flute, the flush returning full power as he diverted his gaze to the sheets, ashamed at his own weakness.

A rough hand, gentle at the steeping arch of his chin raised his head, forced Freed to look into the stormy eyes of the Lightning dragon. "You should not be the one apologising, it's not much..."

A steady hand raised a spoonful of cereal to Freed's soft, plump lips, the fingers on his chin dancing an intricate, yet simple dance across Freed's pale skin. The hurricane in those eyes softened with care as Freed swallowed the spoonful.

Freed looked up once again, and replied, "Anything that you make," Laxus leaned closer, "will surpass the ambrosia and nectar of the gods themselves in my eyes.."

A soft smile coaxed soft shadows to dance across Freed's face as a warm feeling spread through his stomach...

Oh my god! It's been so so so long, and I'm sorry! I was wondering if I really should continue this story, because... yeah. None of this is really planned, and I do this when I have time... Yeah...

Anyway, please give me advice because this is my first tome writing, and I would like to get better! Besides, you guys are what keeps me going!

(Stupid autocorrect! It always seems to correct Taevarth to Teacart... Behold, the lord and saviour of the English! Lord Teacart! I can say that by the way, I'm English)