A/N: Well, I found this sitting uselessly in my drafts… It would have been a shame to leave it there. It's been literally years since my last cringey Fairy Tail one-shot. Oh well. Enjoy, I guess ^^
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Beer? Check.
Food? Check.
Clothes… Well, not anymore.
Gray drops his jeans on the bar next to an overly scandalized Wendy and tutting Charle and settles back in his seat. He sighs blissfully, settling into the normality of the guild. The atmosphere; the cheer; the noise; the smell of greasy bar food… Oh God, was it good to be back. So good to be back at the guild rather than tramping through some forest or arguing with some shitty client or trying to keep Natsu from collapsing on him as he grumbled over his stomach on the train.
Good sweet Lord it was good to be back.
Now, in all honesty, Gray thought that he deserved a bit of downtime after all that. Really, rarely did he ever commit himself to a mission that truly made him wish he'd just foregone this whole magic guild business and settled for something more mundane. Being a shopkeeper perhaps or a merchant… Well, both of those things sounded truly terrible, but they would have been damned preferable compared to the job he'd been set up for that morning. To put it simply; a few broken ribs, a destroyed town, and significantly less reward money later and Gray was all aboard the nope train to fuckthatville.
So, yes, Gray had spent most of the day feeling thoroughly pissed off already and, sat here at the Fairy Tail bar, all he wants to do at this very moment is to just sit back and relax and hopefully let the all the frustrations of the day just melt right off…
Mirajane sets another bowl of food down in front of him and he smiles as gratefully as he can. Mira serves the best meals, that's for sure. Serves the best beer too, for that matter, so that's another one off the checklist for tonight. He's had his grub and his drink and Gray thinks he can already feel the anger bubbling away in his stomach start to ease off…
But there's just one thing missing. Just one more thing that will make him truly feel at peace again.
Gray rummages around, digging deep into his jacket pocket (which, miraculously, is still on - it's not often he works from the waist upwards)...
Only to find his fingers grasp at thin air.
It's gone. And he's pissed. He heaves an almighty sigh of exasperation and stands up from his seat.
"NATSUUUUUU!"
Ah, and there we have it. The all-familiar cry of Fairy Tail. That ancient battle cry that reassures their fellow guildmates that all is well — that all is still as nature intended, for, of course, it wouldn't be Fairy Tail, after all, if a day went by without at least one scuffle between fire and ice.
That's it. It's back. The irritation all just comes crashing back down like a wave on Gray's shoulders. Screw absolutely everything, he thinks.
Elfman gives manly battle advice as Gray storms across the room; Cana is already taking bets on whose ass will have been most thoroughly kicked by the end of the day; Lucy is bracing herself behind a pillar and behind the bar, Mira hums thoughtfully to herself, polishing the glass in her hand and glances up at the clock on the wall.
"My, is it that time already?"
When Gray reaches Natsu's table, half the guild's attention has already been drawn to them. Natsu looks up from his card game with Macao and Max and raises one eyebrow.
"S'up with you, droopy-eyes? Where're ya clothes?"
The temperature of the room drops by about ten degrees.
"Cut the crap, moron." Gray hisses, hastily tugging up his boxers. "Where the fuck are they?"
"Where the fuck are what?"
"My smokes, squinty-eyes! The fuck have you done with them?"
Natsu looks indignant. "Wha—? ME?"
Gray turns out his jacket pocket. There's a thin lining of ash at the bottom that smells faintly of charcoal. Natsu scoffs and waves his hand in dismissal.
"That could be anyone!"
Gray doesn't even bother to dignify that stupid remark with a proper response. Gray knows he's lying. Look at him — the smug little fuckin' brat. If he reckons he can pull off that innocent look, then he'd better think again. Honest to God when he finds out where Natsu's hidden his cigarettes he's going to kick his ass so hard the feisty little Flamebrain won't be able to sit for a week. He can feel the need creeping up on him. Not the need to absolutely pummel Natsu into the floorboards — he feels that need on a regular basis — no, he's talking about the need. That craving for a beer in one hand and a smoke in the other. Or, you know what, maybe just the smoke because his nerves are shot. God, if never before, he needs that nicotine hit now!
He slams a fist on the table. "Can't you go one fucking day without trying to piss me off!"
Natsu smacks aside several ale mugs which have been knocked over, the heat of his ire making the spilt beer sizzle and steam. "Can't you find a stress relief that doesn't involve sucking half a pack of death sticks!"
"Look, Flamebrain, I don't have time for your shit!"
"Don't get ya panties in a twist, frost-boxers! Just because Erza's mad that you froze the client solid—"
The injustice of the statement is crippling. Gray's favoured element may be the cold kiss of ice, but a fire burns deep and strong in his heart. "You blew up his damned house!"
"He deserved it — he was a con artist!"
"That's beside the point!" Gray is about to leap across the table and force the Dragon Slayer to greet his fist, but he catches himself just in time. He straightens up, runs a sweaty palm through his tousled hair and lets out a harsh growl of frustration. For the love of God, why did Natsu feel the need to make his life so damn hard?
And then, as if to prove his point, the idiot just has to pipe up again,
"Ya shouldn't be smokin' those things anyway!" Natsu grimaces like a five-year-old, wrinkling his nose and sniffing tentatively in his rival's direction. "Why'd ya wanna be sniffin' it all day? I can't stand it!"
Gray's jaw drops a fraction. He wordlessly points at Wakaba who's been sat puffing away on his pipe throughout their entire conversation, sending little pink and green tendrils of smoke drifting about the table. Natsu blinks.
"Hey, at least Wakaba's smoke smells good!" he says. He takes a deep breath of air, sighing in content. "Aaah, it's like springtime! See? You just smell like a seedy speakeasy! As if ya didn't repel me enough already! Like a freakin' walking ashtray!"
Gray draws a shaky breath. His fingers are trembling. Damn. He hasn't felt this on edge in a long time. He almost feels like laughing at himself. All of this over a pack of cigs? What's he doing? And then a tiny bit of doubt starts to creep it's way into his mind…
What if Natsu's telling the truth? What if he's not lying to him? What if Gray's gone off into a rage all over nothing and he's the real problem here? He feels like Titania on PMS. Shit, maybe he's more addicted than he thought.
Natsu's still glaring up at him.
And then there's a glint of something in Natsu's eye — something sly and mischievous and Gray's ire floods back at full force because if he wasn't already sure before, he's bloody certain now that his rage towards the Salamander hasn't been for no good reason. Natsu's lips curl deviously;
"'Sides," he says, "you'll be grateful to be rid of 'em once you wake up in the morning."
That cheeky gleam is enough for Gray It's as good as confirmation. He cracks his knuckles.
The little shit was going down.
Would Natsu regret it? Probably not, but, as far as Natsu was concerned, just one day free of acrid smoke and tobacco ash was victory enough for him. Strange coming from a literal walking fire mage, I know, but there was just something about the smell of strong tobacco that made him want to retch. At least Wakaba had the decency to alter the scent of his smoke.
So no, again, Natsu was thoroughly enjoying himself. Honestly, it was such glorious respite! To stand so close to the icy-headed bastard and not want to heave on site was relief enough for him, so, naturally, he'd been thinking that if he could pull it off, he'd sure as hell pinch those cigs as often as he could and make sure they stayed well away from Gray Fullbuster whilst he was on a stress-fuelled rampage. Honestly, the guy turned into a fuckin' chain smoker once he got pissed enough and it was enough to make Natsu's heightened senses scream in protest.
And, especially after today... well, it was just a bit of fun.
Seriously, it had been an awful morning. That God-awful mission had sapped the soul of his teammates, their pay was pitiful, Happy had lost his fish somewhere along the line (the little bitch just wouldn't stop moaning to Natsu about that one) and, what was more, he hadn't even got to go full out! All he'd had to punch was small fries! Small fries! The smallest type of enemy fries who couldn't even throw a punch without tripping over their own two feet! And between that and the gut-churning, irrepressible, unbearable nausea he'd been subjected to throughout the four hour train journey home… Well, seeing Gray sit back leisurely in his seat and light up in their tiny little compartment whilst he was quivering on the floor and trying not to hurl - yeah, that had been the last straw.
A Dragon Slayer's nose was sensitive and if there was one thing that upset his already pitiful stomach, if was that frosty bastard and his damn smokes, so, no, Natsu didn't have any regrets, thank you very much, but he sure wasn't about to admit to it either.
"Heh," Natsu chuckled, watching as his teammate balled his fists. "What'cha gonna do, Ice Princess?"
"One last chance — give me back my bloody cigarettes, Flamebrain, or I swear to God—"
"Aren't ya listenin', ya bastard, I haven't taken em—!"
"NATSU!"
Natsu's face lit up with a childish glee, looking as if all his dearest, most desperate prayers had been answered; a fire igniting in his eyes;
"You wanna GO?"
Around them, their guildmates scattered. "Hit the bloody deck!"
Sparks fly and frost creeps its way across the table. Natsu stands, kicking back his stool, ready and raring to go as he ever was and it's just then — just as Natsu's fists flare up; as the last of Gray's clothes go flying across the room; just when the last of the guild has retreated to clear the battlefield — that it happens.
The guild doors burst open and in flies Happy, chuckling to himself and whizzing over to the table…
And effectively spelling Natsu's doom.
"Naaatsu!" he exclaims cheerfully. "Natsu! I've hidden Gray's cigarettes in the—"
And then he stops. The colour drains from his face. Before he can even begin to move Gray has him upside-down by the tail, a chill creeping over the room, ice creeping down over his fur. Several 'oh shit's are heard from the gathering of guildmates in the background. Happy cracks a terrified, guilty smile.
"G-G-Grayyy..!"
And, once more, Gray bellows;
"NATSUUUUUU!"
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When Erza walks into the guild that evening, she can't help but pause in her tracks. She frowns and casts her eyes over the room… But all seems well.
Which is odd, considering that some deep-set 'idiot instinct' within her is beginning to scream and nag and pester her relentlessly. Something must be off. Seriously, she can't put her finger on it. But, as she observes her guildmates in their natural setting, Erza can't help but hope that she might be mistaken.
Maybe just this once, she thinks (hopes, begs, prays) the great Titania might be mistaken. Perhaps, she thinks as she wanders over to the bar, that just one evening might pass by without her fist being sent to discipline some moron's nose.
But, alas, she is mistaken.
From the corner of her eye, Erza catches sight of her team sat at one of the tables in a corner. Her hopes are instantly shattered.
Honestly, she was hoping to settle down and demolish at least half a cake tonight, but no, that won't be the case, she realises, as she marches her way over to them.
"What's going on here?" she asks, her voice as loud and authoritative as she can manage. Lucy visibly quails beneath her gaze, but says nothing, visibly embarrassed by her company. Erza's eyes land on Gray. "Explain." she demands.
"What?" Gray leans back casually, feigning ignorance.
Ignorant my ass, she thinks.
Natsu is sat beside him, as quiet and subdued as Erza has ever seen him. And no wonder. The Dragon Slayer is encased in ice from the shoulders down, eyes fixed firmly on his lap and pouting like a scolded child. Happy is plonked in an ice cube on the table, whining pitifully.
"E-E-Erzaaaa..!"
"What is the meaning of this?" she snaps.
And, breezily, Gray pulls out a cigarette from his back pocket (though his shirt is nowhere to be seen) and lifts it up to Natsu's level. A single, pitiful little streak of flame erupts from his nostrils. Gray smirks in satisfaction and takes a deep, long, soothing drag.
Lucy bats some of the smoke away from her face and sighs. "Well, what do you have to say for yourself, Natsu?"
He looks reluctant, but Erza's piercing gaze ultimately wins over his response.
"F-Fine..." Natsu growls, turning green in the cloud of smoke, "I'm never pinching Fullbastard's smokes again."
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