Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lucy woke before him, the memories of the night drifting through her mind before her eyes had even fully opened. The way he kissed her. The way he held her. The sounds he made when he finally stopped pretending he didn’t want to say it, the words he had finally said.

They clung to her like warmth after rain, soft and lingering, imprinted somewhere beneath her skin.

Her gaze found him immediately. Natsu lay sprawled on his stomach, one arm thrown lazily across her waist, his face half-buried in the pillow. His hair was a mess, sticking up in uneven tufts that caught the faint morning light spilling through the curtains. Even in sleep, his grip on her was instinctive, protective, like some part of him refused to let her drift too far away.

She stayed there for a moment, just breathing him in. The smell of him, something warm and comforting, filled her lungs. It grounded her. For a few quiet seconds, the ache in her body was distant, just another hum beneath the surface.

She wanted to stay like that forever. 

Then she shifted, carefully easing herself free from his hold. The motion sent a dull throb crawling up her spine. She winced, her breath catching, but forced herself through it, one small movement at a time.

Her eyes found the nightstand. The small orange pill bottle sat there like a quiet accusation, her name stamped neatly on the label. She reached for it, fingers hovering but not quite touching. Not yet.

The bathroom tiles were cool against her feet. Plue followed close behind, his little nails tapping softly, circling her once before settling by the door.

Lucy braced herself against the sink, tugging her hair back with one trembling hand. Her toothbrush rested on the counter beside his, her toothbrush, a small, domestic reminder that she belonged here with him, that some part of her life had already tangled itself into his long before last night.

Then the pain hit.

It started low, then flared sharp and fast, climbing her spine until her breath shattered in her chest. Her hands shot out, gripping the counter. Her vision tunneled, spots of white crowding the mirror. She stayed like that, unmoving, fighting to breathe through it, until warmth touched her waist.

Two familiar hands, steady and cautious.

Her head jerked up too quickly, and the motion sent another tremor through her body. She caught his reflection in the mirror, Natsu, bleary-eyed but alert now, his expression etched with worry. He stepped closer, hands tightening slightly against her hips as if he could steady her by sheer will.

“You okay?”

She tried for a smile, small and shaky, leaning back just enough to feel his heat seep into her. It helped. A little. “Good morning, boyfriend,” she whispered, the word light, teasing, though her voice sounded too thin, even to her own ears.

He didn’t laugh. Instead, he turned her gently by the shoulders, his thumb catching her chin, tilting her face toward him. His eyes searched hers, the line of his mouth hardening.

“That’s it. We’re going to the doctor,” he said, tone quiet but unyielding.

Lucy blinked, startled by the firmness in his voice. “Stop,” she tried, her laugh brittle. “I’m fine. Just sleepy.” She took his hand from her chin, pressing it lightly between her own before letting go. “I just need to take my meds.”

“Lucy, please.” He hesitated, his throat working before he spoke again, softer now, raw. “Remember what happened last time…”

The air between them went still. Her heart stuttered, but she masked it with a practiced breath and rose onto her toes, closing the space between them. She pressed a quick kiss to his lips, threading her fingers lightly into the back of his hair, fleeting, gentle, almost a quiet plea to let the moment pass.

“This isn’t like last time,” she whispered against his mouth. “I promise. Now go wash up. I’ll make breakfast.”

For a moment, he just looked at her, eyes searching, jaw tight, before a reluctant smile cracked through the worry. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned toward the sink.

“God,” he muttered, a touch of affection threading through the frustration. “My girlfriend is so stubborn.” 

She laughed quietly, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “And my boyfriend is so dramatic.”

He shook his head, but there was the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. Then, over his shoulder, quieter, more stern, he whispered: “We’re not done talking about this.”

She smiled faintly, clutching the counter again once he wasn’t looking, the pain already creeping back up into her spine.

She watched him for a moment, chest still fluttering from the new closeness between them before she went back to his room. She exhaled a breath, reaching for the small orange pill container that waited for her on the nightstand. Plue had followed her again, nuzzled against her ankle, drawing another soft, grounding exhale from her as she retrieved the pills.

She took them carefully, her mind a swirl of relief, worry, and the comforting warmth that came from knowing he was just a few steps away. The sunlight spilling through the window caught in her hair, painting her reflection in soft golds, and for a moment, everything felt fragile yet it also felt perfect at the same time.

Setting the container back on the nightstand, she straightened and drew a steadying breath, bracing herself for the day ahead. 

Her mind lingered on the pain swelling up again, in her spine, in her legs, but she shoved it far away once more. She told herself again and again that it was just sore muscles from the marathon run. Maybe even a little lingering soreness from being with Natsu the night before. 

She didn’t want to worry him more than she already had, but the ache lingering in her bones was starting to become impossible to ignore.

The memory flickered through her like sparks catching on dry kindling. His strong hands, steady yet searching, the way he had touched her with a reverence that made her feel cherished, even as he claimed every part of her as his. That blend of gentleness and possession lingered in her chest, tightening something deep inside her and sending warmth rushing to her cheeks.

But it wasn’t just the way he’d held her body, it was the way he’d held her heart. Every soft kiss, every whispered breath against her skin had carried a promise she didn’t know how to name, something that went far beyond desire. In his arms, she hadn’t felt fragile, or breakable, or alone. She had felt chosen. Safe. Wanted in a way that reached far beneath her skin.

Stepping into the kitchen, the cold tiles beneath her bare feet jolted her back.

Before she could reach for anything, Natsu was already behind her, arms sliding around her waist, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he murmured against her temple, the warmth of his breath and the pressure of his body making her practically melt into his touch.

She hummed softly, turning in his embrace and cupping his face with both her hands. “I’m fine… really,” she said, though the faint tension in her voice betrayed her a little.

The kiss started slow, soft, lingering, an unspoken conversation between them.

After last night, Lucy had lost track of how many times she’d kissed him, how many ways his mouth had explored hers, how many ways he had come to know and feel every inch of her body. But now, in the morning sunlight, it felt effortless, inevitable, like he was the person she was meant to kiss for the rest of her life.

Natsu pulled back just enough to brush a stray strand of hair from her face, his thumb lingering on her cheek, teasing her lips. And she just couldn’t help it. She seized the moment, leaning forward again, kissing him relentlessly, as if she were drowning and he was the air she needed to breathe.

His hands slid to her waist, lifting her with ease and setting her carefully on the counter. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his hips, nails grazing the back of his hair in that way he loved. She moaned softly into his mouth, a sound that made him shiver and grin against her lips.

Between breaths, he murmured with a playful grin, “Maybe I should’ve gone out for the condoms last night…”

Lucy laughed into the kiss, pulling him closer, eyes fluttering. “You make me want to risk it.”

He hummed low and husky. Just the sound alone melted her insides into jelly. “We might just have to,” he whispered, each word vibrating through her bones.

Their mouths met again, hungry and tender at once, the world shrinking to the heat of their bodies pressed together.

Then—

A sharp, clear throat cut through the haze. They froze. Eyes snapped open. And there stood Wendy in the doorway, wide-eyed, lips pressed tight to keep from laughing. Arms crossed as if she was the parent and they were the teenagers who got caught sneaking around. 

Plue yipped happily at her feet, as if delighted by the interruption.

“You know,” Wendy began, her voice strangled with suppressed laughter, “I was gonna ask for a ride. But… I think I’ll take the bus today.”

Natsu blinked, still half-pinned between Lucy’s thighs, arms locked around her waist as if he hadn’t realized he should let go yet. His brain short-circuited, scrambling from desire into awkward big-brother mode. “Do—do you need some lunch money?” he stammered, his face redder than fire.

Wendy shook her head, grinning now. “Nope. Still have your credit card.” Her eyes glimmered with mischief as she slowly backed away.

“Uh—” Lucy sputtered, her voice high and frantic, “we… we were just—”

“Don’t worry.” Wendy laughed, waving a hand as she slipped back toward the living room. “I’ll just… pretend I didn’t see anything.”

They remained frozen in place until they heard the front door click shut behind her.

Lucy slid off the counter quickly, tugging at the hem of his sweater she was wearing, burying her face in her hands. “Okay…” she whispered through her fingers, still stunned. “So we keep this between us… and Wendy.”

He was the first to break the silence, a shaky laugh slipping out as he ran a hand over his face. When he finally glanced at her, she was still flushed red, but the moment their eyes met she burst out laughing too.

The sound filled his chest with a warmth he never thought he’d feel again. He pulled her into his arms, holding her close as her giggles spilled against him.

And in that moment, he didn’t even care that they’d been caught mere hours after agreeing to keep their new relationship to themselves. He cared about her, the smile on her face, the laugh that slipped free, the light she brought back into his world. He cared about protecting that happiness with everything he had.

…

“No way! You’re telling me they were making out, making out?” Sherria gasped, her eyes wide as she leaned over the table, practically dropping her chip midair. “Like tongue and everything?!”

Wendy’s cheeks warmed, and she ducked her head, twisting her pencil between her fingers. “It would’ve been gross but…” A small smile tugged at her lips despite her words. “They belong together. And I’m glad they’re finally figuring it out.”

“It’s about time.” Sherria rolled her eyes with a laugh, crunching into the chip. “Seriously, you’ve been telling me all their drama for months. It was getting painful just hearing about it.”

Wendy laughed softly too, dropping her pencil on her notebook sprawled out in front of her and she began picking at the crust of her grilled cheese sandwich instead of actually eating it.

They were seated in the far corner of the cafeteria, Sherria’s insistent that they eat in there today. 

 “I just want them to be happy.”

“Speaking of happiness…” Sherria’s grin turned sly. “How’s the dance rescue mission thing going?”

Wendy sighed, slumping against her palm. “I don’t know why Kagura asked me to help her. I’ve never even been to a dance.”

“She asked you because you’re, like, a professional at organizing things.” Sherria nudged her with an elbow, teasing. “Besides, if you do save the dance, the junior class presidency next year is basically yours.”

Wendy shoved her back lightly, smiling. “Don’t jinx it.” 

“I know I know.” The pinkette laughed. “I know how bad you want it.”

The cafeteria door banged open then, stealing their attention. A wave of noise poured in as the hockey team spilled through, laughing too loud, their sticks clattering against the tiled wall as they claimed the biggest table in the middle of the room. The sharp smell of fries and pizza drifted heavier in the air as more people followed, the room buzzing louder.

“Do they only hang out with each other?” Wendy muttered, watching as a cluster of cheerleaders trailed after them, dropping into seats and leaning close, their giggles blending with the boys’ rowdy voices.

“Oh, come on. They’re nice,” Sherria said, half-laughing as she popped another chip. “In fact…” She tilted her head toward them. “We should go and sit with them.”

“Uh—I’m good.” Wendy ducked her gaze back to her sandwich that she hadn’t even bitten into, pushing the crust she had peeled off around with her finger. “They just… get so loud.”

“Seriously, Wendy.” Sherria gave her a look. “How are you gonna get a date to the dance if you don’t talk to any boys?”

“We still don’t even know if there’s gonna be a dance,” Wendy mumbled, twisting her pencil again.

“Oh, c’mon.” Sherria grinned, her eyes twinkling. “You pulled off the marathon, you can save a dance.” Her gaze flicked back to the hockey table, as if searching for someone. “I think Romeo’s gonna ask me.”

Wendy pressed her lips together, unsure. “Maybe.”

Sherria gasped suddenly, eyes bright. “Well… what if I asked him? Would that be, like… too desperate?”

Wendy furrowed her brows, trying to come up with an answer. Instead, she bit the inside of her cheek and stayed quiet, her finger tapping restlessly against her notebook.

“I don’t know,” she said softly at last, the words barely louder than the buzz of the cafeteria.

Sherria only hummed, popping another chip into her mouth like the thought was already spinning wheels in her head. Then her eyes lit up again. “Let’s go sit with them—”

“Tenth grader.”

The sharp voice cut clean through the chatter around them. Wendy’s head snapped up, heart stuttering at the commanding tone.

“Oh…” She forced a shy smile, straightening in her seat. “H-hi, Kagura.”

The upperclassman strode over and slid into the chair across from her with effortless authority. Even without the blazer slung neatly over her shoulders and the school badge pinned to her lapel, Kagura carried herself like she already ran the school. Her dark eyes landed on Wendy with a focus that felt like standing under a spotlight.

Sherria hesitated, then gave a sheepish grin. “I’m gonna… be over there.” She grabbed her chips and made a quick escape, leaving Wendy alone at the table.

“So.” Kagura folded her arms, her tone clipped but not unkind. “Any updates for me?”

Wendy’s stomach flipped, her pencil nearly slipping from her damp fingers. She twisted the end of it nervously, then forced herself to sit straighter, meeting Kagura’s gaze as best she could. “I, um—I asked Mr. Neekis about the gym. He said we could definitely use it for the dance… but we’d still need to cover decorations, snacks, and, um… the DJ.”

Kagura tilted her head, considering this with a sharpness that made Wendy’s palms sweat. “So the space is secured, but not the budget.”

“Right.” Wendy nodded quickly, clutching her pencil like it was a lifeline. “I thought maybe we could ask some of the clubs to help? Or… or run a fundraiser?” Her voice wavered slightly, but she pushed the words out anyway, desperate not to sound childish. “I mean, last year the drama club ran a bake sale for some new equipment and—”

For a long moment, Kagura just studied her, dark eyes unblinking. Then she gave a single approving nod. “That’s a start. But one dollar cookies aren’t exactly gonna cover the cost of a dance.”

“Well… we don’t have to do a bake sale…” Wendy mumbled quickly, shrinking a little under the weight of that gaze. “I just thought… something like that.”

“You’re headed in the right direction.” Kagura nodded once, decisive. “I’ll brainstorm some ideas too. Meet me tomorrow, and we can discuss it before we take a detailed plan to Mr. Neekis?”

Wendy’s chest swelled at the faint trace of approval in her voice. 

She nodded again, this time with more conviction. “Okay. I will.”

“Good.” Kagura stood, smooth and commanding, brushing invisible dust from her sleeve. “You’ve got potential, tenth grader. Don’t waste it.”

Wendy watched her stride away, her pulse still racing, ears buzzing as though she’d just walked out of an exam she wasn’t sure she’d passed. Only after Kagura disappeared into the cafeteria crowd did she let out the breath she’d been holding, her pencil slipping from her sweaty grip and clattering against the table.

From across the room, Sherria waved, a chip halfway to her mouth, mouthing dramatically: Are you alive?

Wendy could only laugh nervously and nod, though a small spark of pride burned quietly in her chest, stronger than her nerves.

…

Her apartment was quiet in the way it always felt after Gray left for work. It was still, calm, but not empty. Juvia sat on the little bench in front of her piano, the old electric one with a few scuffs on the white casing, the one Metalicana had bought her back when she’d first asked him if she could take music lessons. She brushed her fingertips lightly across the keys, not pressing down, just letting the smooth plastic remind her of where it had all started.

She remembered the day he brought it home, only a few months after she had moved into the apartment with her brother and his father. The box it had arrived in seemed too impossibly big for the small space they had in the living room. She remembered how he helped her unpack it. He'd even humored her indecisions, dragging it from one corner of her room to another, to another, until she finally settled on a spot that was perfect. 

She’d only been twelve then, fresh out of a foster home that had felt more like a waiting room than a place to live. She could still recall the tight knot in her stomach, the confusion in her head that first night, thinking she had nowhere that was really hers anymore.

That was until, not even a complete week later, there they were: Metalicana, her big brother Gajeel, and her social worker. Her brother’s father took her in with ease, he looked at her like she wasn’t a stranger at all. He cared for her just much as he did his own son. 

She pressed down on a key, as another memory crawled into her brain. She could still remember being thirteen, the first time she sang while Gajeel strummed his guitar, and Totomaru banged on borrowed drums, the surprised look on their faces as if they hadn’t known a voice, her voice, could do that. 

The band’s name had been pulled from a letter her father had sent from prison, a word he’d scrawled that stuck with her more than any apology. 

Phantom. An illusion, something that felt real but wasn’t. 

She had taken that word, reshaped it, claimed it. Because if her parents had been the phantoms in her life, then her voice, her music, was the proof she was real.

She lifted her hand, letting the note fade back into silence. By a year, the letters had stopped as did any communication or connection to her biological father. 

But she still had music. She still had her brother and Totomaru.

She had Metalicana, she had Gray— kinda. When she was thirteen he was still pretending he didn’t like her back at all. 

Her finger pressed down on a single key, the low note reverberating through the quiet room. She hit it again, and again, each sound grounding her even as her thoughts spun.

She couldn’t deny it anymore. Leaving Gray, leaving this apartment, this life they had built, she didn’t want that. But the thought of never singing again, of not standing onstage with Gajeel and feeling the music between them, that was a different kind of fear. One that had been growing louder and louder inside her. Especially after Gray had assured her he understood this was something she couldn’t give up.

A sharp knock startled her, but before she could even rise from the bench, the door creaked open. Whoever it was didn’t wait for permission.

“Of course you didn’t lock your damn door.” The familiar, gravelly voice filled the silence, and then he was there, broad frame, scowl in place, stepping into her apartment like he always had.

Her fingers curled tight over her knees, and her eyes narrowed instantly. The sight of him stirred too many things at once: comfort, safety, and the raw sting of betrayal. She was still furious with him, for taking her choice and her timing away, for telling Gray what wasn’t his to share.

She didn’t rise, didn’t greet him. She only looked at him, cold and guarded, waiting.

“You’re still pissed at me?” He huffed, clearly annoyed, and clearly not going to soften his tone any time soon. Not that he ever did that. Especially with her. 

“Why are you here?” She asked cautiously, fist clenching as if she was bracing herself for a fight. 

He lingered back by the door, arms crossed, eyes on her like he wasn’t going to back down either. “Because you won’t answer the damn phone.”

“Maybe because Juvia doesn’t want to talk to you.” She retorted, eye twitching, pout forming. 

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence was thick, like the air before a storm, and Juvia felt her pulse quicken in her throat. She hated this part with him, the way he could get under her skin so easily, the way his bluntness could cut right through her defenses.

But this wasn’t just about another argument. She never really cared when he threatened all the boys at school if they got too close to her. She always forgave him if he broke one of her dolls, or accidentally ate something she’d been saving in the fridge. Those things had been easy. Forgiveness had always been easy, because deep down she knew he never meant any harm.

This time was different. This time, he’d really crossed a line. This wasn’t something he did for her, he had done it for himself.

Her voice came out low, sharper than she intended. “Why did you have to do that?” 

His jaw tightened, as if looking for the correct words to say. He could already see it, the mask she was putting on feigning anger when she was probably two seconds away from crying. 

“I did it… because—” his jaw twitched, as if these next few words would be way too hard to admit. “Because I can’t do this without you, sprinkler.” Her eyes widened, wondering if she had heard him right. “I get you alright. Not wanting to leave home. And I fucked up, I shouldn’t have said that shit about Fullbuster yesterday. That wasn’t fair.” 

Her bottom lip began to tremble but she refused to let a sob escape. “You still had no right to tell him like that, Gajeel-kun.” 

“I know, I’m an asshole.” He muttered through clenched teeth. “Music… it’s all I’ve ever been good at.” 

“That’s not true.” She interrupted but he huffed out a dry laugh. 

“Yes it is.” He pressed his lips together. “It’s the only thing… that mom left us.” Juvia felt her teeth sink into her lip. “It’s the only thing that helps me remember her, when I wasn’t so damn mad at her for leaving my dad.” 

The bluenette shut her eyes, shoulders falling. “My father always told me she liked to sing.”

“She did.” Gajeel nodded, exhaling slowly, leaning back slightly against the wall, arms still crossed. “She sang all the fucking time, just like you did when we were kids. When I play… when we play… it’s the only way I can make sense of it all,” he murmured, his voice rough but quiet. “When you sing, sprinkler, it’s like she’s here again.” 

“Gajeel-kun…”

“I was always so fuckin’ mad at her. But when my dad told me she was gone… I was mad at myself for always rejecting her when she tried to spend time with me.”

Juvia’s eyes softened, the corners of her lips twitching upward, but her chest still felt tight. “Juvia didn’t know you felt like that.”

“I was also mad at you,” he added, chuckling softly, the sound low and almost embarrassed. “My mom left my dad, and suddenly two years later she’s tellin’ me I’m gonna have a kid sister that I should look after.” He scoffed, “God damn crybaby is what I ended up takin’ care of.”

She let a faint smile curve her lips, but it faded almost instantly. Her hands lifted slightly, fingertips hovering over the keys of the piano, as if afraid to disturb the quiet gravity of the moment. She felt the echoes of her mother’s voice in her own sometimes, strange since she had only ever heard her voice through videos, but it was a bittersweet melody that both ached and comforted her.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “Juvia feels it too, Gajeel-kun. Music… it’s the one thing that lets Juvia not think about everything that has been lost.” Her voice faltered slightly, her gaze dropping. “Gray-sama, he's been amazing, supporting Juvia no matter what.” 

Gajeel shifted, uncrossing his arms, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. “I get that. Look, if you really don’t want to do this— I ain’t gonna hold it against you. When you got someone that feels like home— you shouldn’t let go.”

Her hands hovered over the piano again, then she let one key click under her finger, a soft, wavering note. “But… Juvia can’t let go of the band either, the band also feels like home…” she paused, swallowed, “… we need to take this chance. We’ve lost so many people who never will have a chance to see if they can achieve their dreams.” Her voice caught, but she pressed on, softer now. “Mom, even Lisanna. She… she never got to chase her dreams. She died too young, and Juvia can’t stop thinking… what if she wastes this chance too?”

“So?” He moved to sit beside her, eyes falling on the keyboard. “We doing this then? Together?” 

She met his eyes, brows furrowing before she gave him one slow, deliberate nod. “We have to.”

Her mind flicked to her beloved Gray, just for a quick moment, her heart aching at the memory of his final hockey game. The game where she waited for him outside of the locker room just to wish him luck. Where he asked her if she wanted to wear his jersey. Where he had kissed her for the very first time— right before skating out onto the ice. 

The game where everything changed for him. The injury that stole the future he’d worked his whole life for.

She felt the familiar pang of panic twist in her chest, remembering the way his scream had echoed through the entire arena. The way he collapsed onto the ice, hockey stick forgotten at his side, clutching his knee, while his father Silver and stepmother Ur rushed to his side. Around him, his teammates, including his brother Lyon, had erupted into a brawl with the opposing team accusing them of doing this on purpose.

She had been frozen in place, wearing a jersey with his name on her back, while Cana and Gajeel beside her held Natsu back, his glare burning into the player who seemed to have meant to harm Gray. Natsu’s curses, the crowd’s panic, the shouting of all the players losing control, it was all muffled in her mind. Gray’s scream echoed over and over and over, relentlessly.

She had wished she could have done more. Been there for him in a way that actually mattered. He pushed everyone away after that for a while, especially her, but she persisted and refused to let him go. 

But then her thoughts shifted, like a tide pulling her forward. She thought of all the people they’d lost, the chances that would never come back, her mother, her father, Lisanna, even a version of Gray who got to play pro hockey like he always wanted, and the quiet truth she’d been carrying: she couldn’t waste her own opportunity.

“We owe it to the people we care about who never got a chance.”

…

When they finally stepped out of his apartment later in the day, Lucy felt an almost reluctant tug in her chest, like she was leaving behind something she wanted to linger in forever. The night had bled into morning faster than she realized, the two of them tucked away in his room, talking about everything and nothing until her voice was hoarse and her cheeks hurt from smiling. After breakfast and, after walking Plue she had spread her books across his bed at some point, but he hadn’t complained once, just stretched out beside her, propped on one elbow, listening as she worked through her assignments, talked out her ideas, his hand absentmindedly tracing patterns along her thigh as he listened carefully to each word she said.

The ache in her body, stubborn from the week, had melted under his care. He’d coaxed her into the shower with him, swearing the hot water would help her loosen up, but it was his mouth at her neck, hands roaming her body, and his laugh in her ear that had really unraveled her. She wasn’t sure she’d ever felt so warm, so safe.

Now, with Plue clipped onto his leash and tugging impatiently toward the door, Lucy glanced up as Natsu finished locking it behind them. He caught her watching, and the grin that spread across his face made her stomach flip. Without hesitation, he dipped to press a kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there like he wasn’t quite ready to let her go.

“I’ll see you later,” he murmured, voice still rough with relaxation and something softer beneath it.

Her arms slipped easily around him, like they belonged there. “Yeah,” she breathed, her sigh brushing against his shirt. “Have a good day.”

He chuckled, low and warm, and leaned down again, this time catching her lips. The kiss was slow, careful, almost reverent, so different from the wild, unthinking ones they’d stolen from each other the night before. He pulled back just enough to look at her, eyes crinkling in that way that always disarmed her, then pressed another kiss to her mouth like he couldn’t help himself.

She turned to punch the code into her keypad, keenly aware of the way Natsu’s gaze lingered on her. Sneaking a glance over her shoulder, she caught him smiling wide, unguarded, like she was the only thing in the world worth looking at. She nearly melted under it, lips curving before she could stop herself. He was leaning forward again as if he couldn’t resist stealing one last kiss before he had to go.

The universe, naturally, intervened.

Soft footsteps echoed up the stairwell.

“Levy,” Natsu greeted, a little too cheerfully. His tone was so unnaturally bright it made the bluenette stiffen when she heard it.

Levy blinked at him, brows rising. “Oh… hi, Natsu.”

He gave her a quick nod, then shot Lucy one last glance, something in it like a secret only she could read before bounding down the stairs, his steps almost comically light.

Levy watched him go, her frown tugging deeper with every bounce of his stride. Slowly, her eyes slid back to Lucy. “He seems… extra happy today.”

Lucy fumbled with the keypad, pretending she hadn’t noticed her boyfriend— her heart jumped at the realization that her mind now referred to him as her boyfriend— skipping off like he’d just won a game show. 

“Does he?” she asked, tone airy as she pushed the door open.

“Uh, yeah.” Levy followed her inside, Plue trotting in after them, tail wagging like he knew exactly what was going on. “He’s usually happy around you, sure, but that? That was Disney-prince-breaking-into-song happy.”

Lucy undid the leash, and collapsed onto the couch, pulling her legs under her. 

“He’s excited about this new recipe at work,” she said vaguely, grabbing a pillow to hug against her stomach. She paused all her moments, glancing at Levy with a raised eyebrow, voice carrying a teasing lilt. “Those… someone is in the same clothes from yesterday…”

Levy felt her cheeks warm, and she looked Lucy over carefully. “And… why are you all showered but in Natsu’s clothes?”

Lucy pressed her lips together, fumbling for the TV remote to distract her friend. “Uh… I mean… we just… stayed up late and then—”

Levy kicked off her shoes, tossed her bag onto the armchair, and flopped down beside Lucy with a dramatic sigh. “You’ve always been a terrible liar, you know that?”

Lucy tugged the hem of the oversized hoodie tighter around herself, cheeks flaming. “His clothes are just comfortable,” she muttered, refusing to meet Levy’s gaze as she flicked on the TV.

“Mhm… comfortable,” Levy echoed knowingly, leaning back as Plue jumped onto her lap with a soft plop, tail wagging happily. “Comfortable clothes the morning after…”

“Don’t start,” Lucy shot back, shoving Levy with a pillow.

Levy only laughed, leaning into her seat. “Fine, fine. Whatever you two have going on is complicated enough anyway.”

Lucy rolled her eyes, trying to appear nonchalant, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. “We’re fine.”

Levy raised her eyebrows playfully. “How about… we don’t talk about it right now? I stayed at Gajeel’s last night and nothing happened but… I don’t really wanna talk about it either.”

Lucy laughed softly, the sound light despite the fatigue pressing at her shoulders. “Deal.”

For a moment, the room settled into a comfortable quiet, broken only by the TV’s chatter and Plue’s soft grumbles as Levy scratched behind his ears. Then Levy’s gaze flicked sideways, sharp even through her teasing. 

She noticed the look immediately, that of physical discomfort written all across Lucy’s face.

“Hey,” she said gently, voice softer now. “You good, Lu?”

Lucy blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

Levy tilted her head, studying her. “I don’t know… you just look a little pale. Tired.”

Lucy hugged the pillow closer, sinking further into the couch cushions. “I didn’t sleep much,” she said quickly, forcing a laugh that felt lighter than it actually was. “Somebody kept talking my ear off all night about that recipe he was dying to try out.”

“Mmhm.” Levy didn’t look entirely convinced but let it go, scratching Plue behind his ears as he wagged his tail. “Fine. But you’d say something, right? If you weren’t feeling okay?”

Lucy sighed, exasperated but soft. “Yes, mother.”

Levy laughed, giving her a light shove. Lucy swallowed a wince that flared at the contact but masked it with another laugh, settling back against the cushions as Levy’s teasing warmth filled the room.

…

Natsu couldn’t remember the last time he felt this good. He entered Fairy Brew with a light, confident stride, greeting a few familiar faces who were enjoying their coffee. He slapped hands with a regular in passing, nearly knocking the poor man’s drink over in his enthusiasm, before making his way behind the counter. His grin only widened when Gray and Kinana both exchanged a confused look across the espresso machine.

“Good afternoon, team.” Natsu sing-songed as he headed for the handwashing sink, scrubbing with more vigor than was probably necessary.

Gray’s brows pulled together. “You feeling okay?”

“Better than okay.” Natsu grinned at his reflection in the metal faucet, then at Gray, the sparkle in his eyes bordering on obnoxious.

Kinana tilted her head, folding her arms on the counter, her list of paper items inventory forgotten. “Did you finally win the lottery or something?”

“Nah.” He dried his hands with paper towels before shutting off the water, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Just had a really, really good night.”

Gray squinted at him. “A good night huh?” 

“What can I say?” He shrugged casually, “I was thinking maybe you’re right… maybe I should take more days off.” 

Kinana leaned towards Gray, her eyes narrowing. “Yeah something’s really wrong..”

“Definitely.” His eyes landed on the bruise on Natsu’s cheekbone, flinching a bit at the discoloration. “geez, did my dad do that?” 

Natsu laughed it off, throwing his apron on. “Nah that was all Gildarts.” 

His smile hadn’t faded once, even as that one annoying customer who always complained about the color of the mugs arrived. 

Gray narrowed his eyes suspiciously as Natsu wished the old man a great day, 

“Seriously, what’s up?” Gray tried, “ You just wished the crazy straw guy of all people a great day.” 

“Maybe your father and Gildarts knocked him out too hard and he’s confused,” Kinana mumbled, her grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Ha ha,” Natsu deadpanned, though the grin stayed glued to his face. He tugged his apron strings tight, movements brisk, practically vibrating with energy. “Damn, can’t a guy just be happy?”

Gray leaned an elbow on the counter, smirking. “Sure. Just saying, the last time you looked this stupidly cheerful was when you found out the café was getting a new blender.”

“Hey, that was exciting,” Natsu argued, stabbing at the register keys with way too much enthusiasm. “Gramps never let us get new equipment back in the day, remember? He was always so cheap with stuff like that.”

Kinana stifled a laugh into her sleeve. “I heard it was because you two always broke everything.”

Gray didn’t even try to hide his, recalling the days he and Natsu would work part time over the summer at Fairy Brew in their teen years. 

“Well, since you’ve got so much energy…” Gray’s smirk widened as he crossed his arms. “Delivery’s here. And it’s your turn.”

Natsu froze mid-step, his smile faltering for the first time that day. “You’re kidding.”

“Have fun,” Gray murmured, far too pleased with himself.

He groaned, making his way towards the kitchen area and back door, muffled curses fading as he began to wrestle the delivery boxes outside. Gray shook his head, still smirking, when the front bell jingled again.

In stepped Wendy, her school uniform crisp against the warm glow of the café lights, her bag bumping against her hip. A boy in the same uniform trailed behind her, scanning the café with casual eyes, though the moment he noticed Gray he practically tripped over the welcome mat.

Gray straightened behind the counter, arching a brow as Wendy approached.

“Hey kid, I didn’t know you had a shift today. Did Natsu call you in?” he asked, his tone calm but curious.

“No,” Wendy replied quickly, clipping the word like she was bracing for something. She gave him a small, tense smile before glancing behind her and adding, “So this is my… friend. Uh, Romeo. He really wanted to meet you.” Her fingers twitched against the strap of her bag, betraying her uncertainty.

“Me?” Gray’s brow arched, eyes narrowing slightly on the teenager. “There something I can do for you, kid?”

Romeo stepped forward, shoulders squared like he was about to salute. His eyes darted from the espresso machine to the pastry case, and finally to Gray.

“Gray Fullbuster,” he said, louder than he intended, Gray raised an eyebrow, confused at his tone. A few customers glanced up. He cleared his throat, lowering his voice but not his excitement. “Sorry… My name is Romeo Conbolt. I just… I had to meet you, man. You’re a legend!”

Gray’s expression shifted into a practiced neutrality, leaning lightly against the counter. “I wouldn’t exactly say I’m a legend…”

“Dude… you’re… literally that guy! Totally a legend!” Romeo stumbled on his words, scratching the back of his neck. “I… I’m on the hockey team.”

Gray’s posture stiffened subtly, but his face remained composed, as if Romeo’s compliments didn’t affect him at all. Wendy, shifting awkwardly beside him, tugged at her sleeve. 

Maybe this was a bad idea, she thought.

“Hockey team, huh?” Gray prompted, tone even but watchful.

“Yeah.” Romeo leaned in, eyes bright. “Seriously, man, you, you were awesome. I’ve seen some of the tapes of you back in the day. Coach still shows them when he tries to plan practices, you know?”

Gray let out a soft exhale, leaning an elbow on the counter. “That was a long time ago, kid.”

“Still,” Romeo pressed, hands curling into small fists at his sides, “people still talk about you! You and your brother Lyon— everyone says you’re the best players to ever come out of Vermillion High!”

Gray’s jaw tightened at the mention of his brother, but his voice stayed calm, measured. “Flattering, but they exaggerate.”

“No way, man! All the championship trophies are still there on display. They’ve all got your name on them! The school even has your Jersey still hung in the gym…” Romeo’s words sped up, almost tumbling over themselves. “You wouldn’t… maybe… consider helping out? Coaching?”

Gray’s eyes flicked toward him, unimpressed but not exactly angry. “Coaching? Don’t you have a coach already?”

“Well… not exactly.” Romeo shrugged, a hopeful tilt to his head. “I asked Coach if I could talk to you, he agreed since he doesn’t exactly know what he’s doing.”

Gray’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Kind of disrespectful to tell your coach you’re recruiting someone else for his job?”

Romeo’s shoulders slumped, but he didn’t back down. “It’s Mr. Jonah… the art teacher. Remember him?”

Gray raised a brow, almost amused. “He’s still there?”

“Yeah… still teaching art… and now he’s coaching hockey. You can see why the team hasn’t improved at all since… well you and your brother played…”

Gray folded his arms, leaning back against the counter, calm and deliberate. “Look, kid, I appreciate the thought, but… hockey’s in the past for me. I’ve got no interest in looking back.”

Romeo’s shoulders drooped, but he persisted, voice barely above a whisper. “What about just, like… giving pointers?”

Gray’s eyes softened slightly at the earnestness, but his tone remained firm. “Sorry, kid. I can’t. Mr. Jonah is the coach right? Trust the guy you’ve got.”

“But—”

Wendy nudged Romeo gently with her elbow, giving him a wide-eyed drop it look. He swallowed, nodding reluctantly, cheeks pink from embarrassment.

Before the silence could grow, the back door slammed open. Natsu burst into the room, apron half-untied and a crumpled order slip in his hand. His good mood had evaporated entirely.

“Who the hell ordered four cases of brown sugar?!” he barked, glaring at the order slip in his hand. “What the hell are we gonna do with all that?! Where are we gonna put all that?!”

The outburst made a couple at the corner table jump. Kinana snorted into her sleeve. Gray seized the interruption like a lifeline, straightening and clapping Romeo lightly on the shoulder as he sidestepped toward the back.

“Good luck with your season, kid.”

And with that, he disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Wendy and Romeo standing awkwardly at the counter as Natsu continued to fume, trailing behind him and yelling about the boxes and where they were going to go.

Wendy spun toward Romeo, eyes narrowing. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, cheeks flushed with secondhand embarrassment. “I thought you just wanted to meet him!” she hissed under her breath. “I didn’t know you were trying to get him to coach!”

“I did just want to meet him… at first!” Romeo stepped back, hands raised defensively, shoulders hunched. His voice pitched low but urgent. “I just figured I would ask.”

“You figured—” Wendy’s words cut off with a frustrated huff. She glanced toward the back, half-expecting Gray to reappear, then pinched the bridge of her nose. “He’s not exactly the type to get excited about reliving his hockey days, Romeo. You know what happened to him right?”

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” Romeo exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck as if to erase the embarrassment. “I thought it was worth a shot. You know? If there was even a small chance he’d want to…”

Wendy crossed her arms, her brow furrowed, but softened slightly as she studied him. “Do you even… really like hockey all that much?”

Romeo’s gaze flicked to the floor for a moment, voice quieter, almost swallowed by the low hum of the café. “I used to play… with my dad.”

Her eyes softened, a small, sympathetic frown tugging at her lips. “Was he any good?” she teased lightly, trying to ease the tension.

Romeo gave a short, humorless laugh, lifting his eyes just long enough for her to catch the shadow behind them. “No…” 

She frowned. “So why…”

“It’s just… after everything that happened, it’s the only way I can… get away from my mom. Stay out of the house as long as I can. Hockey’s my excuse right now, but I do have fun playing… plus if our season gets cut short I mean… I have to wait for baseball or soccer in the spring…”

Wendy hesitated, one hand brushing against the counter to steady herself. The warmth in her chest twisted with concern. “Romeo…” she murmured softly, not sure how to bridge the gap between teasing him and letting him know she understood.

He looked down again, shoulders tightening slightly, the weight of his words settling over them both. “I just… I figured if I could spend a lot of time playing… maybe I could get really good at it…”

“But you are really good at it…” 

He shrugged, brushing the back of his neck. “With the way practices are going, we won’t even qualify for quarters. No one cares about the best player on a weak team.”

“There’s gotta be something you can do,” she said, frowning, her voice softer now, encouraging.

He rubbed at his head, eyes drifting toward the back door Gray had disappeared through. “I tried.” His tone was quiet, almost defeated. “Guess it just wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Romeo—” Wendy started, reaching out slightly, unsure if she should put a hand on his shoulder.

He shook his head, managing a small, tight smile. “I have work tonight.” He glanced back at her, a faint glimmer of gratitude in his eyes. “Thanks for introducing me to him anyway.”

Her frown lingered as she watched him turn toward the door. The bell above the café jingled with each step he took, his figure gradually disappearing into the evening light. She stayed rooted, fingers brushing the counter absently, her chest tightening in a quiet ache.

…

The trembling sound of lightning filled the apartment so loudly Lucy and Levy could feel it in their bones. All the lights were off, the glow from the television casting flickering shadows across the room. A bowl of popcorn rested in Lucy’s lap, the buttery scent mingling with the faint ozone of the storm. Plue lay beside her, pawing at her leg with soft, urgent whines, as if reminding her he expected a fair share.

Their eyes stayed locked on the screen, the shared blanket pulled high around their shoulders like a fragile shield. The heroine on-screen hesitated at the doorknob, her hand trembling with a terror so real it made Levy clutch the fabric tighter.

“Don’t… don’t go in there—” Levy whispered, voice tight, almost swallowed by the crack of thunder outside.

“Levy, she can’t hear you…” Lucy murmured, her tone calm, flat with focus, though her knuckles whitened on the blue popcorn bowl as her stomach twisted with tension.

“Still… she should know…” Levy muttered, wincing as the on-screen hand inched toward the handle. The hinge groaned. The door on-screen creaked open inch by inch—

And then—

BANG! 

Their own front door slammed open with a violent crash, lightning splitting the sky at the same moment.

Both girls screamed, a high-pitched, visceral sound that rattled the quiet apart. Popcorn erupted into the air as they clung to one another, blanket sliding into a tangle of limbs and static. Plue barked sharply, the sound echoing off the walls, as if he had been waiting for this precise moment.

Through the storm, a small figure stood in the doorway, hair plastered to her face, drenched and wide-eyed, mirroring the girls’ panic. Lucy lunged to the wall, flicking on the light. Relief washed through her like warm water when she realized it was only Wendy, shivering and clutching her schoolbag like a shield.

“Wendy! You nearly killed us!” Lucy exclaimed, pressing a hand to her chest as the adrenaline ebbed slowly.

“Sorry…” Wendy managed, eyes darting between the scattered popcorn, Plue, and the two women.

Levy was the first to recover, springing up to grab the remote while Lucy scooped up Plue, brushing stray pieces of popcorn from his fur. She offered Wendy a towel with a soft smile. “What’s up?”

Wendy shuffled forward, damp hair sticking to her cheeks, and fidgeted with the ring on her index finger. “Uh… I was wondering if I could ask you guys a question?”

Levy grinned, patting the couch beside her. “Of course. Anything.”

“Yeah, what’s going on?” Lucy asked, voice gentle but cautious. She handed Wendy a towel to dry herself off.

Wendy paused, letting the warmth of the towel seep into her chilled fingers. “You guys have been friends for a really long time, right?”

Lucy and Levy exchanged a glance, the room quiet except for the soft hum of rain against the windows.

“Yeah, I’d say so,” Lucy replied with a shrug, Plue nestled in her lap again.

“It’s been what, more than ten years?” Levy added, the corners of her lips twitching in fond amusement.

“So…” Wendy twisted the ring again, off and on, nerves showing in the repeated motion. “Have you two ever… liked the same boy?”

Lucy blinked, startled. “The same boy?” Her voice rose slightly, betraying the surprise she tried to mask, and Plue thumped his tail against her side.

Levy’s grin stretched slow and mischievous, eyes gleaming like she’d just discovered a secret. “Ohhh. Now this is a juicy question.”

Wendy flushed, hugging her knees to her chest, voice muffled and embarrassed. “I didn’t mean it like that! I was just curious, that’s all.”

Lucy softened, giving her a gentle smile. “You mean… what happens if two best friends fall for the same guy? How do you deal with it?”

Wendy nodded faintly, and for a moment, the storm outside and the thunder on-screen faded, leaving only the warmth of the blanket, the soft presence of Plue, and the comfort of the two women beside her.

Levy’s teasing expression melted into thoughtfulness. “Well… we’ve both crushed on the same guys before.”

Lucy nodded. “It’s kind of inevitable sometimes. You bond over the same things, the same interests. And yes, sometimes you like the same guy once or twice—or ten times.”

Wendy’s frown softened, curiosity and apprehension tangled together. “Okay, but… how do you deal with it?”

Levy leaned back into the couch cushions, contemplative. “First, remember the boy is a person, not an object.”

Lucy nodded, adding quickly, “If he’s a good guy, he’ll make it clear who he likes. And if you and your friend are close, you accept it.”

The room fell quiet for a heartbeat, the storm beyond the windows a distant drumbeat. Wendy’s shoulders eased slightly, cheeks still tinged with pink, but her mind clearly whirring with the weight of the answer.

Levy raised an eyebrow. “Oh, come on.”

Lucy frowned. “What?”

“You’re telling me you accepted that Dan liked me more?”

Lucy’s mouth opened, then shut. “…Okay, fine, maybe not right away…” She pouted, turning fully toward Levy. “And you dated him anyway!”

“Because he liked me!” Levy shot back, mock indignation threading her voice.

Lucy scooped a handful of popcorn and tossed it at her. Levy gasped in playful offense, snatching up a pillow and smacking her lightly across the back.

Before the argument could escalate, Wendy’s head jerked up, eyes wide. “Wait, really? And you’re still friends?”

“Of course,” Levy said, settling back into the couch with the ease of someone who had long since mastered life’s dramas. “Because we liked each other more than we liked him. He was just a boy in the end.”

Lucy laughed, shaking her head, eyes crinkling. “Exactly. Boys come and go, but your real friends? They’re the ones who stay.” She glanced at Wendy, warmth in her voice. “That’s what matters most.”

The tension in Wendy’s shoulders eased slightly, though her cheeks remained pink. “But… what if the boy is really special?”

“They always are,” Levy sighed dramatically, stretching back into the couch cushions with a lazy grin.

“Eventually you grow out of it,” Lucy said softly, settling closer to her friend.

“What do you mean?” Wendy tilted her head, curiosity threading through her voice.

“Well, we don’t like the same kind of guys anymore,” Lucy explained, the words easy, almost nostalgic.

“We like similar guys, maybe,” Levy added, scratching her head thoughtfully. “But if you really like this boy, the important thing is to be honest with your friend.”

“And,” Lucy jumped in quickly, “make sure he likes you back.”

“Lu!” Levy groaned, tossing a mock glare her way.

Lucy threw her hands up defensively. “What? I’m just saying! Why tell your friend if he doesn’t even like you to begin with?”

“Right… you should be sure if he likes you…” Wendy repeated softly, as though filing the advice away.

Lucy noticed the slight frown flicker across Wendy’s forehead. “Not that a boy wouldn’t like you! You’re our precious Wendy. I bet all the boys like you.”

Levy groaned, shoving Lucy gently aside. “Please stop talking.” She leaned closer to Wendy, narrowing her eyes playfully. “So… this about a specific boy?”

Wendy’s head snapped up, scarlet creeping into her cheeks. “W-What?!”

“Romeo, right?” Levy sing-songed, elbowing her lightly. “That hockey player. What did Gajeel call him? Jock punk?”

Lucy’s lips twitched, torn between laughing and scolding. “Levy—”

Wendy buried herself in the blanket, voice muffled, mortified. “I do not! I just… I was just curious, that’s all!”

“It’s okay, Wendy,” Lucy soothed, voice gentle and patient.

Wendy shook her head, desperate to redirect the conversation. “Uh, I wanted to ask you guys something else!”

Both women blinked, waiting.

“Okay, so my school usually hosts a dance this time of year, and it was almost cancelled, but my upperclassman asked me to help her try and save it…” Wendy began, shifting uncomfortably on the couch.

“Awww—” Lucy interrupted, dreamy. “I’ve never been to a regular high school dance.”

Wendy froze, eyebrows raised. “They never had them at your school?”

“All girls private school… remember?” Lucy smiled faintly.

“There were debutante balls, and cotillion that one year,” Levy chimed in from her seat, “but we never really got to do stuff like that.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun,” Lucy swooned. “I always wanted to go to one. A public school dance always looked like so much fun…”

Wendy’s expression dimmed slightly. “We might not even get one anyway. There’s barely any funding left. So I was wondering if you guys had any ideas for a fundraiser I could do?”

“I guess a bake sale wouldn’t cut it,” Levy muttered thoughtfully.

“And it’s way too cold for car washes,” Lucy added, scratching her head. Then her eyes lit up, and she reached over, shaking Levy by the shoulder. “Wait! Do you remember that clothing drive we did?”

Levy’s face brightened. “Oh yeah.” Then she grimaced. “Stupid Brandish kept saying no one would want to buy used dresses, but we raised around five thousand dollars for medical research…” She snapped her fingers, turning back to Wendy. “Why don’t you do something like that?”

Wendy furrowed her brow. “But… where would I even get the clothes?”

“Not just clothes—like gowns, dresses, formal stuff,” Lucy said, scratching her cheek.

Levy nodded. “Yeah, trust me, back in our school the girls wore those Deb ball dresses once and never touched them again.”

Lucy smiled. “And I bet a lot of girls at your school would love to buy them, especially with a dance coming up.”

Wendy’s lips curved slowly. “Maybe…”

“I’ll reach out,” Levy said. “I have at least ten gowns sitting in my closet back at my dad’s house. I’ll have my friends Jet and Droy bring them here to me.”

“Me too,” Lucy added. “We’ll definitely help you out.”

Levy jumped to her feet, energized. “Actually, I think I have a few here right now. Let me go check!”

She darted down the hall, leaving Lucy and Wendy alone on the couch. The apartment felt quieter suddenly, the storm humming low against the windows.

They exchanged small smiles before Lucy spoke, her voice softer now, though her fingers still twitched lightly against the fabric of her skirt—a tiny echo of the morning’s nerves.

“So… about this morning…” she murmured, cheeks warming, a faint tremor in her tone. “I’m… sorry… we didn’t mean for you to see that. And I definitely didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable in your own home…”

“N-no.” Wendy’s own cheeks flushed, but her tone was gentle. “You don’t have to apologize… I’m happy for you two.”

Lucy’s smile deepened, though she shifted slightly, a flutter of unease still tucked behind it. “We just… wanted to keep it to ourselves for a little while. You know… figure things out for us before telling everyone.”

Wendy nodded, staring down at her lap, fingers twisting at her skirt. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy.” Her voice trembled slightly, but her eyes were steady when she looked up again. “Just… Can you promise me one thing?”

Lucy tilted her head, curiosity softening the tension in her shoulders. “Yeah?”

“Don’t break his heart.”

Lucy blinked, startled, touched, and a quiet warmth spread through her chest, chasing the tiny shiver of anxiety from earlier. A soft, genuine smile formed on her lips as she reached over and rested her hand over Wendy’s.

“I won’t,” she said quietly, her voice steady now. “I promise.”

Wendy’s shoulders eased, a small, shy smile forming as thunder rolled faintly in the distance. 

…

The café was quiet now, the low hum of the espresso machines, warming ovens, clacking of keyboards and chatter long silenced. The last customers had trickled out an hour ago, and Gray had just stepped out the door a minute prior to pick up a pizza he had ordered from their favorite spot down the street, leaving Natsu alone in the backroom, muttering under his breath.

“Four cases of brown sugar…” he grumbled, tapping on the boxes with one hand while the other scratched at his head. “Seriously, who needs that much sugar?!”

He slumped against the counter, still fuming, his earlier pep from the day all but gone. His eyes were locked on the iPad, entering inventory numbers on a spreadsheet as he taped closed a few of the boxes.

He glanced up though, when he heard soft footsteps coming through the doorway into the kitchen area, and as soon as he saw her his eyes lit up. 

“Lucy!” He set the tape aside, not caring where it fell. He practically bounded across the floor, grabbing her hands in his when he reached her, his eyes sparkling like a kid on Christmas morning. “What are you doing here?”

“Gray let me in.” She smiled, pushing herself up on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss against his lips. “Hi.” 

His hands moved to cup her face, grin so wide it almost hurt. “Hi.” He replied, leaning down to return the kiss with much more urgency. 

He really had forgotten how amazing it felt to be in love. How amazing it felt to be kissed so tenderly, to be held so carefully, to have someone look at you and miss you so badly they can’t even wait till you get home to see you. He had texted her a few times through his shift, but the night had been busy— even without the delivery mishap. 

She only smiled, fingers tangling in his pink hair as she kissed him back. “Are you almost done?” 

He frowned, his mind falling back to the boxes that had yet to be counted. “Not really…we have a mess of product to find a place for, but… I don’t really care about that right now.” 

He laughed, wrapping his arms around her waist lifting her off the ground. She gasped, holding onto his shoulders as he set her on the prep table, leaning towards her to settle between her legs. 

“I should have asked…” She smiled, leaning down to press a kiss on his nose. “I should go, if you guys still have to do some organizing…” 

“No way.” Natsu frowned, arms tight around her. “Juvia is gonna be here any second anyway cause Gray is so damn clingy you know? So why shouldn’t my girlfriend be here too.” 

She hummed, heart skipping as she heard the word girlfriend slip out of him so easily. “I don’t want to distract you.”

“Yeah right.” He smirked, “even if you didn’t mean it, consider me distracted.” 

He leaned in to kiss her again, Lucy sighing feeling her back touch a few sacks of stacked flour that had been set on the table. She ignored the crinkling sound of it, simply allowing herself to melt into him. 

“Are you gonna stay with me tonight?” he murmured, the words rough and low like a secret he couldn’t hold back. His teeth grazed her bottom lip, heat sparking through both of them. “Please.”

“Natsu… I don’t want you to get sick of me.” She pouted, brushing her thumb across his jaw.

“I could never get sick of you.” His reply was low, certain, as if the very idea offended him. He cupped her face, kissing her deeper than he had since she’d walked in, pouring all the ache of missing her into it. When he pulled back, his lips brushed hers as he mumbled, husky and unguarded, “I could just kiss you forever.”

The words melted her down to her bones. Her fingers curled in his shirt, until—

Rip.

Lucy gasped, jerking her head back. Her eyes darted to the side just in time to see one of the flour bags slump over, white powder spilling in a slow, snowy drift across the prep table. “Oh, no—” she squeaked, scrambling. “I’m sorry. I’ll clean it—”

A sudden puff of white smacked against her stomach, exploding up her shirt.

Her jaw dropped. She blinked down at the flour handprint smeared across her, then turned slowly toward Natsu. His palm was still coated, his grin sheepish at first, until it split wide, his whole body shaking with laughter.

“Natsu!” she squealed, swatting at him, but she was laughing too, her voice high and helpless.

She scooped up her own handful and launched it at him. The flour burst against his cheek, sticking in his messy pink hair, dusting across his lashes. He froze dramatically, then let out a growl, wrapping an arm tight around her waist and dragging her against him.

“Oh, it’s on now,” he teased, his nose brushing her temple as he tried to smear flour across her shirt.

She yelped, wriggling, but he was stronger, his chest firm and warm against hers as he pinned her close. Her palms pressed to him in protest, but only left more white handprints blooming across his black shirt.

“No! Not fair!” she wheezed, half screaming, half laughing, her head falling back as his hands skimmed down her sides.

“Not fair?!” He smirked, swiping his floury hand across the curve of her hip, leaving a streak on her leggings. “You decided to counterattack, Lucy!”

Her cheeks hurt from smiling, her ribs aching from laughing. She hooked her legs tighter around him, trapping him where he stood between them. 

“You started all of it!” she shot back, shoving another puff of flour into his chest.

They were a tangle of limbs and laughter, pressed chest to chest, breath mixing warm and fast as their giggles cracked into gasps. She buried her face into the crook of his neck, muffling her laughter there, while he chuckled against her hair, his arms holding her like he had no intention of letting go.

The air around them swirled with white dust, settling in their hair, lashes, even the curve of their lips when they broke apart to breathe. It looked like it was snowing just for them.

Neither of them heard the front door jingle open.

Gray stepped inside, shaking rain from his jacket, pizza box balanced in one hand. He stopped dead in the doorway. His eyes widened at the cloud of flour still hanging in the air, the white streaks across the counters, the bags sagging and spilling on the prep table, and the two of them, covered head to toe, clinging to each other like kids who’d been caught sneaking cookies.

His grip on the box faltered, but he managed not to drop it. His brows drew together, his tone flat, disbelieving.

“What the hell.”

Their laughter stumbled into silence, though the smiles wouldn’t leave their faces. Lucy clapped her hands together, trying to brush flour from her palms but only making little puffs rise around her. 

“I’m sorry, Gray,” she managed, voice trembling with leftover giggles, her grin betraying her apology.

“Don’t ‘I’m sorry, Gray’ me.” He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “How the hell did that even happen?”

“Geez, relax, I was gonna clean it up,” Natsu said, still half laughing. “We were just messing around.”

“Just messing around,” Lucy echoed, her shoulders shaking as she snorted again, failing miserably at looking innocent while she tried to dust herself off.

Gray’s eyes narrowed. He flicked a glance at the ruined flour bag, then back at their flushed cheeks and tangled smiles. His gaze caught on the way Natsu, without even thinking about it, had pulled Lucy gently down from the table, one hand holding hers steady, the other brushing slow, careful swipes of flour from the back of her pants. His hand lingered just a beat too long, thumb grazing the curve of her hip before falling away. Their fingers stayed linked, easy and unashamed, like Gray wasn’t even there.

Gray muttered something under his breath, something that sounded a lot like unbelievable and shook his head as he crossed the room. He dropped the pizza box on the counter with a thud, sending up another puff of flour. “You two are so annoying.”

“Gray-sama! Juvia brought—” Juvia’s sing-song voice trailed off into stunned silence as she stepped inside the kitchen, the bag in her hands nearly slipping. Her eyes swept the scene: the white haze hanging in the air, the flour coating the counters and floor, the footprints scattered across the tile. And right in the middle of it all, Natsu and Lucy, still flushed, still smiling, dusted head to toe like they’d stepped out of a snowstorm. Her mouth fell open. “What… happened…?”

Gray pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing so hard it made his shoulders sag. “Don’t even ask. Just… don’t worry about it.”

“Sheesh, it’s not that bad.” Natsu scoffed, brushing flour from his shirt, moving his hand to clap more residue off of Lucy, before heading toward the front. “I’ll grab the broom.”

“I’ll help you!” Lucy piped, practically skipping after him, their laughter bubbling up again as if Gray’s interruption hadn’t dulled it at all.

“You should. You started it,” he teased, reaching for her hand.

She only laughed, jumping in front of him, wrapping her arms around his neck like she had forgotten they were still in clear view of Gray and Juvia. 

He smirked, and lifted her easily, hands sliding beneath her thighs as she wrapped her legs around his waist. She leaned her face towards his, just a touch too close for friends, enough that her nose brushed against his a few times affectionately.

Their laughter spilled down the hall, bright and unbothered.

Their smiles hadn’t faded once.

Gray folded his arms over his chest, watching the pair disappear toward the front. Beside him, Juvia blinked rapidly, her head tilting as her wide eyes slid up to him. Her hands clutched his arm like she was holding onto a lifeline.

“Gray-sama,” she whispered urgently, voice trembling with horror and excitement. “Gray-sama…”

“Yeah?” he replied evenly, barely fazed.

“Natsu-san and Lucy-san,” she leaned in close as if they weren’t the only two people in the room, scandal painted across her face, “— they’re doing it, aren’t they?!”

Gray didn’t even flinch. “They sure are.”

…