Natsu and Lucy were roommates in college, but the times were not always fun. Well, Lucy thought so at least. She was working on a peice for English class when she realized her pen ran out of ink.
"Natsu, do you have a pen? I'm trying to write my final draft on ancient egypt, but my calligraphy pen ran out of ink." she asked hopefully, jumping from foot to foot.
"Yeah! Here's my pen. You can have it." Natsu handed her a red pen with a purple cover. It was peculiar, but Lucy was desperate. She started writing, slowly and neatly, and got done within an hour. When she looked at her writing is when she realized.
"NATSU! WHY AM I WRITING IN HOT SAUCE!?"
"HUH? I CAN'T HEAR YOU, I'M TAKING A SHOWER!" he called back, his voice nearly drowned out by loud noises that did, admittedly, sound like water. Then Lucy got an idea. She smiled evilly as she heard Natsu start to sing softly. Turning on her camera, she tip-toed into the bathroom, facing the recorder toward the pink-haired boy's face as he sang Time of Your Life. Suddenly, he grabbed Lucy's cherry shampoo and started pouring it down the drain, laughing. Then, on "it's something unpredictable," he squirted it all over her. She screamed and turned away as he very quickly pulled on his pants and ran after Lucy down the hall, now carrying a handful of water. While she gasped for breath, holding one hand up as a sign of pausing, he pulled back the back of her shirt and slowly tipped the water in. She screamed once again and ran for the kitchen, where she got her hands on Natsu's Siracha, and started rubbing it all over his chest. It was his turn to scream and start running. Lucy chased him all the way to her room, where he started pulling clothes out of her drawer and rubbing on his chest, where they got covered in hot sauce. She grabbed him by his waist and pulled him away from her dresser.
"No...more...pranks...agreed?" she panted. He nodded and set down her clothes, and she put the Siracha back in the fridge. After doing that, Lucy took a shower, and Natsu rubbed the Siracha off his chest and finished getting dressed. Panting and laughing, they sat on the couch together, deciding that this was much more entertaining than writing an essay, no matter how fun the ink was.