"I cannot guarantee total salvation. I can merely point you down a path out of the shadows. Will you choose to walk that path, or to forgo it and remain where you are?" - Makarov to Gajeel, inviting the Iron Dragon Slayer to join Fairy Tail after the war with Phantom Lord.
A cloak of darkness filled his surrogate home with a profound air of unfamiliarity, forcing the man in black to pause momentarily as he stalked through the rows of tables. It was more than a little disconcerting to peer about the guildhall and see not a single living soul, even though he had come knowing full well it would be empty. No one else in their right mind would be poking around the Fairy Tail guildhall in the wee-hours of the morning.
With a scowl, Gajeel Redfox thrust a fist into his pocket and deposited the key he wasn't supposed to have. Then he stalked soundlessly across the guildhall where he slipped behind the bar and selected a unopened bottle from Mirajane's stash under the counter. He could pay her in the morning, barring the inconceivable. He tore off the plastic seal, twisted the cap free, and let several swallows of liquid courage burn his innards. He stared into the darkness for several moments before replacing the cap, and then proceeded to his destination.
The door to the library stood ajar. He could see the flickering of candlelight beyond. Gajeel paused at the doorway, drumming his fingers roughly on his thigh as he considered and reconsidered his options. He knew what he was about to find, and he wasn't entirely sure he wanted anything to do with it. He still didn't know why he wasn't home and in bed at this late hour, where every other member was bound to be, barring the few who were out of town on Fairy Tail business.
He scowled to himself. Of course, there was one other guild member not tucked safe and sound in bed at home. He took the cap back off the bottle and took another hearty pull of liquid fire. Then he pushed the door open. He'd half-expected the hinges to creak but fortunately they were well oiled. He peered about the library and saw a pile of books scattered across a tabletop nearby. A small collection of candles burned in holders placed almost strategically amidst the tomes. And there she was, a short, slender mess of a girl, leaning forward over the tabletop. Her rump dangled precariously in midair, one foot flat on the floor and the other poking out of the rear of the seat behind her.
With a roll of his eyes Gajeel crossed the threshold into the library, closing the door silently behind him, and approached. The girl remained focused on the book before her. She gripped a quill in her right hand, occasionally scratching a note on a pad of paper she'd brought along.
Though he was still five paces away, Gajeel stopped, craned his neck, and peered over her shoulder. His sharp, Dragon Slayer eyes were just about to settle over the contents of her books when Levy McGarden's jovial voice filled the room, and nearly stopped his heart.
Gajeel didn't scare easy.
"'In the summer of my fifteenth year, two years following the turn of the century, my father sold what was left of our farmland, along with our few meager possessions, in southernmost Bellum, and we struck out west, toward the future.'" It didn't take long for Gajeel to realize she was reading aloud from one of the books before her. He drew a breath, made certain his heart was beating normally again, and took a steady step forward. Levy read on: "'We traveled with six other families via caravan through a mostly deserted region in northern Desierto, pausing infrequently to catch a little rest here or there, whenever we could, and ventured great distances each day. A rather unhealthy way to travel, in retrospect, and by the time we reached Joya, which was well on its way to its coldest winter in 200 years, we had lost more than a third of our contingent of forty-three in a little over three month's time.'"
"Sounds familiar," Gajeel grumbled. His eyes covertly traced every inch of the slender length of the figure bent over the tabletop. Then he pulled out a chair, spun it around and sat backwards, crossing his arms over the backrest. "Let me guess. Published in X636. Lars Faraday."
"Right year, wrong author," Levy mumbled, her eyes skimming the page thoughtfully. A small smile played over the corner of her mouth. Gajeel frowned as he considered. Lars Faraday was certainly the most famous immigrant to travel across Desierto on his way from Bellum to Fiore. And he hadn't been an author. He'd been a respected businessman who had turned his knowledge of medicinal herbology into an empire before a fire killed his entire family in the decade after his biographical novel was published.
"We're still talking about the Path of Sorrows, right?"
"Yep. The Path of Sorrows." Levy peered up at him over the top of her two-speed Gale-force Reading Glasses, and smiled. There was a sadness in her eyes, the reflection of a memory beyond her own experiences. "I guess it ran through a nasty patch of land in northern Desierto. Dangerous terrain and nasty, unpredictable weather. Not to mention the bandits. Multiple locations were prime spots for ambushes. It was basically anarchy, and bandits thrived. There was a mass exodus out of Bellum around in the early part of last century, and hundreds, maybe over a thousand people died over the course of a decade or so, around the time Lars Faraday immigrated to Fiore."
"So if this isn't Lars Faraday's Journey Beyond The Sorrow, what is it?" Gajeel asked casually as he lay his head on his arms, still crossed over the back of his chair.
"From Bellum to Fiore: The Pieces Of My Soul."
He grunted. "How many memoirs were written about the Path of Sorrows back then? There had to be thousands of different viewpoints, and those are just the ones that actually made the journey successfully. Of those, how many were competent enough to put those points of view to paper?"
"Actually, that's why I'm here," Levy mused as she returned her attention to the book. "Journey Beyond The Sorrow is about one man's pilgrimage along the Path of Sorrows and the new life he established once he reached Fiore. It's a courageous tale but it really doesn't leave a lot to the imagination. Everything's accounted for. It's good history and great for research. In fact it's in this pile somewhere." Levy brushed some of her long hair out of her eyes and off the page of the book she was reading. "Then there's The Pieces Of My Soul. The thing about this book... it isn't about any one refugee in particular. There are more than three hundred different accounts in here, all from survivors who made the pilgrimage to Fiore from Bellum, over about a seven or eight year span. Most of whom tried to tackle the Path of Sorrows. Some who lost everything… entire families… along the way."
Gajeel lifted a studded brow as he peered into Levy's studious eyes. She wasn't looking back. She'd already gone back to reading. Entire families, Gajeel thought, and then blinked. Suddenly things were starting to fall into place. He knew why she'd collected certain books for her research, why said research was so important.
"I take it most of the accounts in here are anonymous."
"Yep, that's right."
"And you're trying to attach faces and names to them."
Levy tucked a loose fall of hair back behind an ear, chewing her lip as she re-read a particularly interesting passage. "Mm-hmm."
"Seems like an ambitious project."
"Mm-hmm."
"How long have you been in here alone?"
Levy blinked at this question and peered up, frowning. "I guess since this afternoon. Lucy and Wendy stopped by for a bit in the evening, to see if I wanted to get a bite to eat, but I've been so distracted I couldn't take them up on the offer."
"You even know what time it is?"
"I think I heard the clock chime a couple times a little bit before you came in."
"Yep. That's about right."
"Geesh. Two in the morning?" Levy glanced at the page number, grabbed her quill and scribbled a note in her notepad, and shut The Pieces Of My Soul. Then she plopped back down into her chair, stretching her skinny arms into the air. "You hungry?"
Gajeel smirked. "Probably not as hungry as you are."
She glanced up at him, and then rubbed her belly in thought. She grinned. "Probably not."
They sat there for a time, staring at one another. He knew it was some sort of a game for her. It had taken some time after he had joined the guild for her to begin to open up to him, and vice versa, but since those early days she'd begun to see him in a new light, a light he himself had never quite understood. He still didn't have a clue what she saw in him, and most of the time he preferred that she just leave it be. But that in itself just wasn't possible, was it? The idea of "letting it be" was something of foreign concept to her. He decided the same must be true for most women he'd encountered. Particularly those tied to this infuriatingly close-knit guild.
"Whatcha thinkin', Gajeel?"
He scowled and abruptly averted his gaze, releasing a breath with a loud "peh".
With a smile, Levy slipped off her magic glasses. She dropped them onto the pile of books, and with her hand on her knees pushed herself up out of the chair, smoothing her short skirt against her legs. Gajeel watched until she slid out of his peripheral, waiting with his chin still resting on his crossed arms. He felt her fiddling with his ponytail. He didn't fight it, though he muttered moodily to himself until he felt his hair spill free. She was right up next to him, combing her slender fingers through his long, thick hair to straighten it.
"Thanks for coming to keep me company."
"I wasn't gonna," he said coldly.
"I know. But I guess you couldn't help yourself."
He grunted. "I knew whatever you had on your plate, it was big. And if it was that big, I knew you'd have found a way to brush off sleep and hunger and work yourself sick until Porlyusica slapped you with a week's worth of bed-rest so fast it would make your head spin. So maybe you're right. I couldn't help myself any more than you could." He shrugged. "In the end, I'm an idiot and you're a dunce, so congratulations."
Levy giggled and continued to fiddle with Gajeel's hair in the silence that followed. He was stiff as he stared straight ahead, into the flickering flame of one of the candles she had been using to read. He didn't bother to ask what the hell she was doing. Levy was a free spirit; she tended to do whatever her heart desired, and frankly, Gajeel would rather just let her do her thing and avoid the excess crap that might come with stirring the pot.
"You washed your hair," she noted.
He gave a shrug of his shoulders and stared off into space.
"You smell nice, too." As if he wanted to listen to her compliment him like this. He'd only come up to check on her, to see that she wasn't doing anything overly stupid. Which is pretty much what she'd been doing since she'd come in here and avoided the rest of the guild, working hour upon hour, deep into the night, without stopping for so much as a bite to eat. He felt her leaning over him, her slender body pressed to his shoulder as her lips slipped in next his ear. Her soft breath brushed just beneath the lobe. "You pretty yourself up just for little ole me, big guy?"
"The hell you talkin' 'bout, Shrimp?"
She laughed again, a deep throaty sound that caught him off guard. Something in the quality of the sound had changed. He felt her fingers running along his shoulder opposite of where her lips still rested by his ear. They trailed back through his hair, slipped between his shoulder-blades, and casually rolled down his spine as she worked herself closer to his side.
He started drumming his fingers roughly against the chair back, peering sidelong at her as she flashed him a cheeky grin. "Thanks for checking up on me," she said gently, and pressed her lips to his cheek.
He grunted. "Whatever. Nothin' better to do."
That's when she put his hand in his lap. Gajeel froze and then nearly leapt to his feet as she fidgeted for a moment, and when her hand came up she was gripping the bottle of booze he'd brought in from behind the bar in the main hall.
"What's this? I'm pretty sure Mira sets this aside for special occasions."
"That so? Just turns out I happen to like Midnight Honey," Gajeel said through a scowl.
"I never tried it."
"Burns all the way down." He watched the expression on her face as she studied the bottle. She didn't seem impressed. The bottle itself was a translucent green, making the liquid within seem to be the color of mossy swamp sludge, but in fact it was nearly jet-black.
"Costs a pretty penny, too, if I remember right."
Gajeel smirked. "Worth it."
"The Master would have a fit if he knew you were taking booze from behind the counter. He funds for this stuff specifically."
"I ain't stealing it, if that's what you think. I'll pay Mirajane in the morning."
"Right, like you have that kind of cash on you."
Gajeel snorted. "You keepin' tabs on my bank account now, Shorty? Obviously you're not, or you'd know I don't go around blowing my hard earned cash the way Salamander does." He took the bottle from her and twisted off the cap. Then he took a long draw and wiped his mouth with a heavy sigh. "Here. Give it a try."
Levy looked squeamish before she even took the bottle. "Um, I don't know about that."
"C'mon and grow a pair, McGarden." The Iron Dragon Slayer wore a smirk as he held the bottle out toward her, giving it a little shake.
Levy frowned at his comment, and then she smirked back. "A pair? Seriously Gajeel?" She rolled her eyes and snatch the bottle from his hands. "Fine then." But even then, in that moment the weight of the bottle was entirely hers to bear, Levy looked squeamish again. "You really do like to play dirty, don't you?"
"Who, me? C'mon Shrimp, take a swig."
Levy sighed. "Ugh. Bottoms up, I guess." She eased the rim of the bottle to her mouth, paused then, using her sleeve to wipe it clean.
"The hell you doin'? Drink up!"
"Yeah, don't make me explain it…"
She tipped the bottle toward her, lips pursed against the rim, and let some of the dark liquid trickle into her mouth. It was a light sip, but as Gajeel predicted, it was enough to make her gasp as the alcohol scorched her throat. He smirked as she leaned over, gasping for breath. Somehow she didn't choke, didn't go into a coughing fit. For someone her size who wasn't really a heavy drinker—though Gajeel supposed he'd known her to toss back a glass of wine or two or nurse an ale with her comrades in Shadow Gear on occasion—he was pretty impressed with her poise considering the strength of a single shot of Midnight Honey.
"Good stuff, huh?" he said, easily lifting the bottle from her fingers as she stared at the floor. He took another swig, all the while waiting for her answer. "Well?"
"You are such an ass."
Gajeel laughed. "Guess you're right about that."
"Though I have to admit," Levy murmured as she steadied herself, turning to face him and leaning her hip against the arm of the chair, "it's got a nice flavor. A little bit sweet. Even if it does burn like the dragon's spit all the way down."
He peered up at her, and though she wasn't exactly meeting his gaze, there wasn't much about her that didn't catch his eyes right at that moment. The simple, somber expression she wore, the way her soft blue locks fell about her high cheekbones, perfectly framing her young, joyful face. The sparkle in her soft, hazel eyes. Her long, slender neck and the shallow curve of her throat. She wore her simple butternut dress, with long loose sleeves cut low at her shoulders and a white strap that wrapped around the back of her neck and met in a large, white bow at her sternum. It was both simple and cheerful. Gajeel thought it unusual how her short summer dress—which revealed quite a bit of leg for a girl who stood just a scant inch over five feet tall—perfectly mimicked the color of autumn.
"So tell me something, Gajeel."
He frowned. "What?"
"Exactly how'd you get in here? I thought I was the only one."
He shrugged. "You were. But I just so happened to get my hands on a key."
"Is that so?" Levy rolled her eyes. "Let me guess. A mutual acquaintance. A blonde mutual acquaintance about yay tall and yay wide." She held her hands open over her chest.
Gajeel smirked. "I'd say…" He reached out, paused momentarily, as if deep in thought, and then gently took her wrists and spread her hands a few more inches apart. "Maybe more like this."
Levy glanced down, and then her face went bright red and she dropped her hands into her lap. She was smiling, too, though she turned just in time to put the candlelight at her back, conveniently masking her amusement. "Yeah, maybe so. Creeper."
"Hey, just callin' 'em as I see 'em, Shorty."
"Been sneaking peeks, have we?"
Gajeel cringed at that, sitting back as he glared up at her, but he caught himself before he could get defensive. "And you haven't?" he quipped. Levy tried to hold back a laugh, but it came out as a snort, which made her laugh all the harder. Gajeel grinned. "That's what I thought. You loon. Who's the creeper now, Short-stuff?"
"Guilty as charged."
After she composed herself, Levy shifted her tiny frame so that she looked him in the eye. Her smile was warm as she studied his face. Gajeel sat perfectly still, staring right back at at her. She moved slowly at first, waiting for him to respond when she reached out. He didn't bat her hand away or snarl a warning from somewhere beyond his troubled past. He kept his arms crossed over the back of the chair, staring, and waiting.
When he didn't flinch, she took his stillness as acceptance, and carefully brushed his bangs out of his eyes. They remained fixed on hers as she studied his face, rolling slow, gentle rings with her fingertips around a few of the iron studs in his brow and along his nose. He didn't reject her. In fact he didn't move at all. He found his muscles were surprisingly relaxed. Her curiosity pushed her forward.
Levy drew a breath. It sounded loud, as if she were breathing just inside his ear canal. It occurred to him that during her exploration of his piercings, her face had inched ever so closely to his own. He didn't comment. Her slender fingers inched past the his nose piercings, over his lips, and examined the piercings in his chin.
Before he knew it, her hand had slipped away from his face and rested, instead, on his shoulder.
"What?"
"Nothing," she said quietly. And then she smiled. He could read the message behind the expression as easily as if she had spoken it out loud: she had seldom gotten so close and never felt completely welcome. Not exactly that he did welcome it. He simply felt a tad more tolerant of her. Maybe it was the Midnight Honey. He'd already downed nearly a quarter of the bottle.
"Sure. If you say so."
She squeezed his shoulder, and then pushed herself to her feet. "Yep. Nothing."
She let her hand slide from his shoulder, and turned to step away. She'd barely lifted her foot off the floor, however, when he snatched her wrist. "Uh-uh. I don't think so, Shrimp."
"Huh? What is– Ah!"
Before he even realized what he'd done, Levy had been dumped unceremoniously into his lap, and her face burned the brightest shade of red he'd ever seen.
When exactly had he had time to turn in his seat so that the backrest was to his side and he no longer straddled it? He was the Iron Dragon Slayer, true, and he could be lightning quick for his size, but he wasn't exactly known for his speed. Plus it would have taken quite a bit of malleability to spin in the chair as he had and not break the backrest.
He stared down at the girl in his lap. Her own eyes were wide, staring off into nothingness, as if her own mind could not quite comprehend the situation she'd just found herself dragged into. He smirked, and he held her there, waiting to see if she would struggle. She turned her head away slightly, so that he could no longer see her face.
"Hey, are you actually pouting?" Gajeel said, though he couldn't be quite sure if he was offended or amused by this, considering her exploration of him a moment before.
"Not pouting," she muttered back, but she didn't meet his gaze.
"C'mon, Shrimp. You touch me, I touch you? I'd say turnabout's fair play."
Gajeel lay a hand on her thigh as he spoke, but not with the intent of being intrusive. He hoped she would recognize it as a show of respect, and a tender request. He had no desire of encroaching on her personal space. That wasn't who he was, and he knew if she thought otherwise she would reject him without a second thought.
Of course, despite his brutal introduction on that day they'd first met, when he was a member of Phantom Lord, she had grown to understand the intricacies of his past, of his simple yet profound existence. Levy knew the person he had become would never take advantage of her weaknesses. She seriously doubted that beyond his connection to Phantom Lord that he had ever been the type to bully anyone. But that was war, and they had been on opposing sides. Though Gajeel was not proud of the tactics he had chosen, he had been determined to help his guild claim victory, at any cost. Even if the price demanded was that of his own soul.
His hand remained on her thigh, un-moving. She also remained stock-still, without so much as a nervous tremble in her shoulders. Neither rejecting his request nor offering acceptance. She was a lady trapped in limbo, and he couldn't tell if she had been shocked into paralysis or if she was simply being stubborn. If he was being honest with himself, he'd always kinda liked her stubborn side.
Her chest rose and fell with a sigh, and then she let her head fall so that she was staring down into her lap. Before he realized it, one of her hands rested on his, and just when he thought she was going to pry it from her thigh, she nearly shocked him into paralysis. Instead of his hand being drawn away, he felt the fabric of her butternut dress shifting against his palm as it was drawn up, quite deliberately, by an intently focused Levy.
The fabric beneath his hand was suddenly whisked away, and he felt the smooth, warm flesh beneath. "I… I think it'll work better like this," she mumbled.
He peered at her, trying to look past the threads of blue that spilled around her face, and wondered at her expression. Her cheeks, probably still flaming red. Her lips, undoubtedly trembling with uncertainty, maybe even curled up into a small, insecure smile. Were there tears in her eyes? He suspected if she looked at him he'd see the silvery trail of emotion streaking down her cheeks. He glanced down a little further, to her lap, and the skirt that had been bunched up around her waist, just blocking his view of his own hand as it lay frozen on her thigh.
"Gajeel?"
"Eh?"
"I… uh… think your hand is a bit low. If you want something to happen."
He swallowed. "Yeah? What exactly do I want to have happen again?"
"You're the one with your hand on my thigh."
"I didn't lift up your skirt."
"I'll… uh…" Beneath the waves of blue he saw her biting her lower lip. Her delicate throat trembled as she dry-swallowed, and he thought maybe, just maybe, he saw the slippery trail of a fleeing tear on her cheek. Her next words came out as barely a whisper: "…let you peel the next layer."
Gajeel blinked. "I wasn't exactly looking for a compromise, ya know."
"You should have thought about that," she said meekly, "before you put me in your lap."
For a long moment, he felt as though he could cut the tension of the room with a knife. It wasn't a bad tension, but it was thoroughly unexpected. Even though their eyes didn't meet, even though she had offered herself of her own free will. It felt like a standoff, Gajeel realized, one they both seemed determined to lose. The choices were simple but oh-so-difficult.
She drew an exasperated breath, and then, easing her bottom deeper into his lap, she let her knees part, as if hoping to offer him easier access. Gajeel stared as the dress slowly rode higher up her thighs, revealing more and more skin. As if her previous invitation hadn't been straightforward enough.
"Damn," he breathed.
"I know, right?" she teased. He noticed that she was staring up at him. In sliding down, she was almost lying back, her head rested against the top of the chair's backrest, her legs spread suggestively. No, not against the backrest. She was using his biceps as a pillow. One hand crushed the folds of her dress in a death grip, and the other still rested atop his on her thigh. Gajeel swallowed as a trickle of sweat rolled from his temple on down his cheek.
She stroked his hand lightly with her fingertips, beckoning him, but she didn't force him, wouldn't force him. This was a decision he would have to make for himself. He knew by the look in her eyes. Plus, he'd drop her to the floor and stalk out of the room if he felt he was being pressured into something, and he knew Levy knew it.
He turned his attention down to her lap, and then slowly and deliberately allowed his hand to slide up her thigh, sinking his fingers down between her legs, until he felt hot silk. Instantly the girl trembled against him at the contact. Indirect though it was, he quickly realized how sensitive she must be. He bit his lower lip and glanced at her face. Sweat and tears intermingled, giving her a distinctive, nigh translucent glow when awash in golden candlelight. Her eyes were clenched shut, and blue hair lay plastered across her cheek.
Gajeel decided it would be pointless to hold off very long. He knew this was something that Levy craved. Though there hadn't been much to connect them physically since he had joined the guild, they had gained a strong emotional bond that had transcended the bonds or regular kinship ages ago. He would have been fine just remaining her friend, but there was something about her, something incredible, that he had never quite been able to wrap his head around. Something that drew him to her like a moth to a flame, even if he'd always been too stubborn to reveal those feelings as far as Levy McGarden was concerned.
Levy practically purred as Gajeel trailed his fingers lightly against the edge of her panties, teasing as he pondered the mysteries beyond. So close to those secrets that Levy, before tonight, had kept only to herself. Or so Gajeel assumed. He just had to believe, wanted to believe.
It was then, when Levy lifted her bottom ever so slightly toward his touch that Gajeel paused, that he glanced up to see the glassy look in those soft, hazel eyes held ajar only by her desire to gaze into his face. Her hand, now resting loosely on his wrist, gave him a gentle, warm squeeze. One further invitation that, whether she realized it or not, he had determined he did not need.
He dipped his fingers, letting them press slightly into her flesh at her crotch, and slipped them beneath the fabric. For a moment her legs threatened to close, and he felt her quivering against him. Then she moaned. Gajeel noted that he hadn't really done anything yet. Rather, he didn't think he had. Not that he had a lot of experience in this sort of thing. Damn, was she sensitive. He let his fingers explore the darkness beneath her panties. She was squirming like a worm dangling on the end of a fishhook. He deliberately avoided her more sensitive regions. It was fascinating to watch her moving knowing that he hadn't really even begun to tease her.
She sunk her teeth into her lower lip in that instant his fingers first trailed along the outer edge of her slit. He noted instantly, as his fingers rolled casually over the tight folds in that narrow crevasse that she was already coated in a layer of moisture. He rolled his fingers gently over her mound, and her whole body arched and writhed and wriggled against him. He tested various angles to hold his hand, to press his fingers against her mound, and down, around the sensitive valley below. Each experiment enticed a sweet moan or stifled cry or tortured whimper, not to mention yet another variation of the tremors that racked her slender body as he explored.
He let a finger play along the slippery fold of flesh on the outskirts of her sex. She kicked and bucked against him as he explored. He didn't push deep. He was as much a novice as she was, assuming she was a novice, of course. He didn't expect her to say if she was; that was her own business. He wasn't about to tell her anything regarding his own personal history.
He watched the fist entwined in her dress rise as her body quaked and bucked against his. He was fascinated. He'd never known the female body could react so violently even though he was only exploring the surface of her sexuality. The hem of the dress slipped off his hand, and for the first time he saw her panties. His hand worked beneath thin stretch of yellow silk. Levy murmured something incoherent as she twisted her hips up, easing herself toward him.
Gajeel responded by lifting up, a bit more roughly than previously, grinding his ring and middle fingers up along the length of her, until he reached the peak of her womanhood. A high-pitched moan leaked out for the entirety of the contact. His fingers slipped through the curls there, and then began to gently knead his palm over her mound.
She loosed a breath in a long, slow sigh. He trailed his gaze up the length of her, intended to look into her eyes, but he was distracted by the motion of her hand, cupped over one of her firm breasts. He could see a nipple poking up through the butternut fabric of her summer dress. She shifted focus while he watched, pinching and twisting tender bud between slender fingers, causing a new fire to stir within himself. He noticed that she was lifting her hips to grind her groin against his palm as she played with her breast.
Her face held the mixture of loss and pleasure in the same moment. Her eyes were glossy, and any tears she might have shed earlier were no lost in the sheen of perspiration that coated her face. He realized she was being quite rough, far rougher with her own body he was. But then, it was her body, and she knew it far better. She was also focused on a far different region.
"Hmmm…" The breath slipped through her lips. She swallowed and seemed to meet his gaze. A small smile, one he thought might be forced, seemed to lift the corners of her lips. The hand rested on his wrist slipped away, and he watched as it rose up, past her torso, slid easily along her bare shoulder and back behind her neck, beneath her hair, where she fiddled with something. The strap of her dress, he realized. The fabric seemed to slacken against her chest almost immediately. Immediately she pulled the front of her dress down, exposing her breasts, and returned to the task at hand. Cupping and squeezing, and then twisting and pinching the nipple. Her small hands made her breasts seem bigger than they really were. His own would dwarf them.
Watching her rubbing her breasts, along with having his hand pressed between her flesh and panties, had stirred something in him. In fact, he wasn't sure exactly when he had grown erect, but it had happened, and now he felt her weight pressing down on him, and he was pressing right back up into her backside.
She drew a breath, and found his eyes with hers. "Somebody feels up to the challenge tonight." She moaned as she shifted her weight against him. She reached up and caressed his cheek, peering up through narrow slits. He wondered what she was even capable of seeing in her mussed up state. Then she surprised him, closing her legs so that she could roll off of his lap. His hands slipped out of her panties. He stared down at her as she settled down on her knees there at his feet.
"Levy?"
"Just a minute," she mumbled. She adjusted her dress at her waist. It had slipped down past her torso. Her exposed chest was in plain view as she put her hands up to brush her hair back and off her shoulders. Then wiped her eyes, returning focus to them, and then looked up at his face. "Damn, I'm a mess, aren't I? What are we even thinking?"
"Don't put any of this crap on me, Shrimp."
Levy giggled and then leaned forward. She reached out and began to fiddle with his thick, leather belt. Gajeel didn't speak. He simply watched her tiny hands work. It took only a moment, barely more than a struggle, as she chewed the tip of her tongue. Soon she pulled the belt free, and moved her fingers to the snap of his trousers. They were easier, and she gave a little tug. He popped into view, mere inches from Levy's wide eyes.
It occurred to Gajeel that this particular situation was a long time coming. She'd grown attached to him in the months, nearly a year, if you didn't count the seven they'd lost following the incident on Tenrou Island, since the war between Fairy Tail and his disbanded former guild, Phantom Lord. He didn't like to admit it, but in truth he'd grown fond of her as well. There was just something about her. Hell, the fact that she had been willing to accept him after everything he'd done, both to the guild and to her and her Shadow Gear comrades, baffled him. No way he would have ever done the same had their roles been reversed. Gajeel hadn't been that type of guy. Not until Fairy Tail came along. Not until Levy McGarden.
While he reminisced, he barely recognized the fact that Levy had grabbed him. He was large, nearly too big for her fist, but she didn't seem to notice. Electricity jolted up his spin as she stroked him. He grit his teeth as his back went rigid.
She giggled again. "Never pinned you for the sensitive type."
"I don't think that's what they mean when they talk about how sensitive a guy is," he grumbled.
"Maybe not. Even so, you fake it well enough." Levy settled herself close and began to stroke him in earnest. Gajeel swallowed hard, forcing himself to relax. He spread his legs a little so that she could wiggle in even closer. He didn't know if she really knew what she was doing, but she'd mentioned "girl talk" in the past, and he had to assume one of those other women had probably been experienced enough to give her some decent pointers. Maybe Bisca? Bisca was in her close circle of friends, if he remembered right. Bisca and her husband had a very tight relationship. Maybe she'd given Levy some advice or something.
She turned him over in her hands, adding a little pressure here, allowing a little slack there, then reversing the process. She focused primarily on stroking her hand up and down the shaft at various speeds, but she also gave attention to the head giving it a curious squeeze between her thumb and forefinger. At one point she lifted the shaft up and peered at the sack of flesh below. She slipped a finger under him and gently slid the tip against the underside of his penis, gazing with fascination.
"Hey, you looking for an anatomy lesson or something?" She didn't respond. She simply gave his balls and unexpected squeeze. The sound that leaked out of him was even more unexpected, and Levy actually jumped in surprise. A soft yet high-pitched squeak. There was nothing manly about it in the slightest, and the realization made her giggle. She hadn't squeezed hard, and she suspected his response was due mostly to the shock of the sensation. Even so, she suspected that she had just learned one more thing about him that she might be able to use to her advantage someday.
"Sorry," she said gently, and let his balls slip out of her fingers. Then she shifted on her knees again, drawing herself closer. She was still stroking as she brought her face close. She brushed her lips gently against his tip, and then took him fully into her mouth. Up and down, up and down. She bobbed her head aggressively for a good ten to fifteen seconds. The previous pain gone, Gajeel let out a groan and lay his head back, soaking in the moment of pleasure. He could feel his cock growing even more stiff as it slid between her lips. She paused at one point, with only the tip in her mouth, and he was certain he could feel her tongue at work, rolling over the head of his penis. White hot sparks flickered in his brain. She practically hovered over him, leaning forward on her knees, her butt dangling in the air. An intoxicating sight. She let him slip out of her mouth and resumed stroking him as she peered up. "Well. This isn't so bad."
He smirked. "You were expecting worse?"
She shrugged. "I didn't have a clue what to expect. I gotta admit, I do like the taste."
"Whatever. I don't need a play-by-play."
She giggled, and then took him into her mouth again. She bobbed up and down three, maybe four more times, stroking with her fist as she did. Then she pushed herself up off her knees, still holding him in her fist as she did. Her dress hung loose against her frame but didn't fall. "Come on, big guy," she said, giving him a little tug.
He arched a brow and then shrugged, pushing himself to his feet. She guided him by his penis to the table where her books awaited, and then, to his utter shock, she released him long enough to shove them aside and clear a space amidst the tomes. Some of them tumbled to the floor, landing in various stages of disarray. He knew if the candles weren't mounted to the table, they'd have gone over too. Levy was giggling as she leaned back against him.
He took note that she had him in her hand again, stroking him easily as she stared at her handiwork. He leaned forward as she worked her hand up and down his shaft, and muttered in her ear. "Uh, the fuck are you doing?"
"Oh, don't tell me you've never wanted to do that."
He smirked. "Maybe."
With that, Gajeel put a hand on her neck and gave her a gentle shove forward. He slipped out of her fingers and she fell over the table. He stalked up behind her, kicking at her heels until her legs were spread wide. His erect penis loomed over her as he stared down. He drew a breath and then grabbed her dress and pushed it up until he saw those silk panties again. He slid a finger along her ass. He tested that spot between her legs, and felt her quaking at his touch. Her panties were soaked, and he felt her coating his fingers even through the fabric. He cupped a hand against her sex, lifting gently, inspecting silently as she trembled uncontrollably.
Almost as if she were scared. At first he thought she was.
"Come on, ass," she muttered through a mouthful of hair. "The fuck are you waiting for?"
Gajeel blinked. That was decidedly not a word he had ever heard spill out of those delicate lips. It almost shocked him, but he supposed there were a lot of firsts going on between them in that moment. She was trying to surprise him, to excite him. It was certainly having the desired effect.
His cock throbbed. Craving, no, demanding finality. He drew a breath and complied.
He slipped the fingers of both hands into the fabric and pulled. The satisfying rip of cloth filled his ears. Levy moaned. "Idiot. Those were expensive."
"I'll buy you some new fucking underwear."
He pressed up against her, letting his rigid cock drag along the crack of her ass. Letting her feel the heat of him. He rubbed against her, preparing. Her legs were stretched as wide as they would go. It was plenty of room. He rested his thumb against her sex, stroking her as he considered his positioning. Then he grabbed his cock and steadied it, lowering the tip.
He had pressed the head against her sex when a thought came to him.
He cringed, and let go of his penis. It bounced, still fully erect, and he stepped away, staring down at her as she lay draped on the table before him. Presenting herself. Waiting.
"Dammit," he uttered under his breath.
She lifted her head. "Gajeel? What's wrong?"
"Is this–" His voice cracked, and he grit his teeth and gestured to the mess around them. "Is this really how you pictured all this? Is this how you picture us?"
She looked hurt as she stared at him from her precarious position on the table. Immediately she began to shift around, adjusting the dress around her so that she didn't seem quite so vulnerable. She looked vulnerable enough, Gajeel thought, but he kept his mouth shut.
She didn't answer as she stared at him, her face twisted with emotion.
"Don't look at me like that," he grumbled. "Answer the damn question."
"Does it even matter?" she whispered.
"Does what matter?"
"Dammit, Gajeel. I am opening my heart to you right now."
"Your heart? You're opening something anyway."
Tears were already welling up in her eyes as the realization of his words struck her like an open palm. "No! You… you idiot! A girl doesn't open her legs before she opens her heart!"
Gajeel stared at her, and her face went red.
"Well, not usually," she whispered. "But this girl. This girl." She put a hand over her exposed chest as she stared hurtfully at him. "Dammit. No, Dammit. Gajeel, I wouldn't do that to you. Never."
He breathed a sigh and then he moved over to her, thumping down onto the table beside her. He glanced at her, but she looked away with her face twisted with emotion and frustration.
He put a hand atop her head. "Sorry, Shorty. I've spent a lot of time trying to change who I used to be. At the games… that fight with Rogue reminded me a lot of that twisted bastard. Before Fairy Tail. I've been fighting that side of me for a long time. I refuse to let myself be that man ever again. I can't do that, not to Fairy Tail, not to myself. Certainly not to you."
She leaned against him. When she spoke, she still sounded hurt, but she also sounded sympathetic. He realized that she understood his plight. "You think you're somehow hurting me? That you're taking advantage of me in a moment of weakness?"
He shrugged. "I don't know what I'm thinking right now."
"Well, whatever it is going through that iron-plated skull of yours, I get it. Just so you know that." She glanced up at him. "But I want you to know something else: this isn't just your choice. This is my choice too, dammit. And I don't want you stopping just because you think I might not be ready to take that step. I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for me. I want this. But I can wait for you if I have to. I can wait until you decide you're ready."
"Right," he said with a nod. "Fine."
"Fuck it," she grumbled, and then she crawled up fully onto the table, kicking off her dress. It fell to the floor beneath her. Gajeel watched as she steadied herself on her hands and knees, and crawled close. She was gazing at his lap, where his cock still stood tall. It had lost a little bit of its stiffness, but not much. Levy glanced up at him, but he didn't say anything. He simply watched. She reached out, almost hesitantly, as if expecting for him to protest, but he had no intentions of protesting. He was in her hand again. Almost instantly his hot rod stiffened in her grasp. She scowled up at him. "You know you're a real pain in the ass, right?"
Gajeel shrugged. "Sounds about right."
She rolled her eyes and went down on him again. He let out a slow breath and leaned back on his elbows, watching her as she sucked him. Her head as it bobbed, up and down, the subtle fluctuation of her cheeks as she sucked him in, her hair as it bounced in time with each fluid, sensual motion. He trailed his eyes along the length of her. Her chest, like her hair, bounced up and down as she quickened her pace. Gajeel sunk his teeth down over his tongue. He wanted to say something to her, but he wasn't entirely sure what he should say, so he decided to hold it in.
Already he could feel the pressure building up in him. His thoughts were swept away, and he found himself capable of nothing. He could simply watch, and wait. Levy took to her task with decidedly more confidence, and perhaps a touch of anger. There was energy in her movement that she'd lacked before. He was a little surprised that she gripped him with strength she'd not showed before, stroking him while also taking as much as much of him as she could in her mouth, which a generous amount considering his size in comparison to hers.
After a time, she took him out of her mouth, breathing in deep, calm breaths. He reached out and brushed her hair aside, examining her with a look of concern. "Hey, uh, you…"
"Fine," she mumbled. "Just…" She swallowed and gave a shake of her head. She turned her attention to stroking him, avoiding his scrutiny. "Just a bit overwhelmed is all."
"Look, you don't have–"
"Just shut it, Gajeel. All you have to do is sit there, okay?"
He stared at her. "Yeah, whatever."
"You're such an ass," she grumbled, and then took him in her mouth again. Gajeel smirked, and then let himself relax again. It was strange, seeing Levy in this position. He'd caught a peek or two of her before, but he didn't think he could have ever pictured her like this. He found himself wondering if maybe she'd had more experience than she'd ever let on, but he immediately rejected the possibility. She'd once told him that she'd never had a partner, and Gajeel trusted her. As far as he was concerned, the word of Levy McGarden was as good as gold.
When he could feel himself at last approaching that moment, he reached down, a grimace of pleasure on his face, and tried to warn her. "Hey, you can stop. I'm gonna…"
Levy gave an abrupt shake of her head and a muffled protest, and continued bob her head up and down, pushing him, urging him toward climax. Gajeel, uncertain of what to do, simply stared. Every bit of him wanted to break down in that moment, to simply lay back and let nature run its course, but concern won out. He figured if Levy realized he was showing such concern now, when she obviously just wanted to please him, she'd probably hit him over the head with the biggest book within arm's reach, which judging by the mass of books around them would have been pretty damn big.
She took her hand away from his cock, pushing herself up so that she was nearly over the top of him, steadying herself with a hand on his side as she took him in deeper into her mouth than ever before. Gajeel gasped in pleasure, gawking as she worked. This was the technique of a beginner?
He let his head fall back, a grimace on his face. It wasn't like he was going to be able to hold back. Levy clearly didn't care, probably didn't even want him to try. She was determined. Gajeel grit his teeth, and then lift his hips ever so slightly, easing himself toward her. Once, twice, and, with the third easy roll of his hips, he felt the first powerful burst of orgasm. He grit his teeth and closed his eyes.
Levy had been ill-prepared. The first blast hit her in the back of the throat. Before she realized what was happening she was choking on cum, trying to cough with her mouth still wrapped around his iron shaft. The second blast was nearly as relentless as the first, but she was able to recognize what was happening. She pulled away as it filled her mouth, spilling free as she coughed, showering Gajeel and the table with the unswallowed remnants. About that time, a third round of ejaculate smacked her right cheek and eye. She turned her head away with a yelp, and a fourth hit her in the side of the face and soiled her hair.
More seed oozed from him, but the pulsations had lost their force and the remainder simply spilled down the sides of his erection.
Levy spat and coughed and, as she slowly recovered, started to laugh. Gajeel stared, incredulous. Really? She was laughing? All the while, he noticed with a growing sense of amusement, Levy watched the final weak pulses of his cock through the one eye that hadn't been nearly shot out by his load. She reached out slowly, taking him in her hand, squeezing him, and n milking the last of his cum as she stared in fascination.
"Hey, you okay?"
"Not so bad," Levy mumbled. She wiped what she could of the cum out of her eye, and as he watched she slipped her fingers into her mouth, sucking the residue off of them. Her eyes were still locked on his penis through the entirety of the lewd act, and he knew probably even before she did what her next move would be.
When her fingers were as clean as they were going to be, Levy, licking her lower lip, leaned again over his cock and slid her tongue, with a long, soft moan, along the length of him. She greedily lapped up every bit of cum, cleaning him as he had her fingers a moment before, and then put her mouth over the tip, and gently squeezed her fingers near the base of his penis, drawing up along the shaft toward the tip, sucking until she was absolutely certain she had gotten every bit of what was left.
Sometime during the process, Gajeel stopped watching. Lost in his own ecstasy, he had laid back, staring blindly into his own private oblivion.
"Damn," he murmured into that dark place beyond his soul.
Levy giggled. She was still lightly stroking his penis as she scooted in close, pressing her slim body against his. She placed a gentle kiss his abdomen and peered up to him through the fall of her blue bangs. "I know, right?" Gajeel rolled his eyes, but he was laughing softly.
The first rays of the morning sun touched the pinnacle of Fairy Tail before it reached most of the other landmarks in the town of Magnolia. The dawn was early enough for most of the town's people, but two in particular felt relatively comfortable turning up to work at the crack of dawn instead of the usual time, considering the early birds of Fairy Tail wouldn't even arrive for at least three more hours.
"Did you have time to gather the materials for me?"
"No, Master. I'm sorry. I was preoccupied last night, but I did fill out a register so that we'll know what volumes we'll need and where exactly to find them."
"Very good, Mirajane. That'll do fine. If we work together we should have the tomes we need within the hour. We can transport them up to my study before the rest of the guild even picks their heads up off their pillows."
Makarov Dreyar, the sixth Guild Master of Fairy Tail, stalked soberly down the hall leading to the guild library, followed closely by one of his precious children. Mirajane Strauss, dressed in her favorite maroon and white dress with pink lace at the trim. There was a bounce in her step and the same beautiful smile with which she seemed to greet every new day since she'd buried the demon whose death had coincided with her sister's, years ago. Just the look of her could brighten anyone's day.
The pair strolled right up to the library door. Makarov had to stretch up onto his tiptoes to reach the doorknob, which he turned with a little effort and then pushed in. The well-oiled hinges didn't so much as squeak. Just as the door cracked open, however, they were greeted by the flickering candlelight within, alerting them to one of two problems: either someone within had left the candles burning through the night—which, given the fact that they were ever-burning magic candles, was not an unlikely scenario—or that someone had beaten them to the guild that morning. If that was true, someone sneaked in when they weren't supposed to be there.
"Oh my!" Mirajane said. She was beaming happily as she took in the scene laid bare before them. Makarov could only conclude that this was something that Mirajane approved of. The elder Strauss sibling had always worn her emotions on her sleeve, and he had suspected that she had always been rooting for this finality.
"Very well. Out, Mirajane."
"Aw," she said, a touch of amused disappointment in her smile as she stepped back and Makarov slowly closed the door, though not without peering again to the couple entangled on the table across the room, with him and Mirajane still standing in the hallway. "Aren't they adorable, Master?" she asked with a grin.
"They've certainly made a mess of things, those two," Makarov muttered under his breath. "Damn kids."
"Master?"
"They had better pick up those books they kicked on the floor or there'll be hell to pay. And I expect there to not be a single crease in any of the pages." With that, and a bright smile, Master Makarov retreated back down the hall. "And I noticed a bottle of Midnight Honey. Make sure you replenish the stores at the end of the month."
Mirajane beamed. "Of course. I always do."
"We'll tackle our own trip to the library after you unlock the doors. And about the lovebirds back there…"
"Not a single word. As you wish, Master. I didn't see anything."
"That's right."
After all, whatever their desire, Makarov had always given his children plenty of space to make their own personal decisions while they lived their lives within the bonds of family known as Fairy Tail. Life, love, and all other matters of the heart belonged first and foremost to the individuals with whom the choices resided.
"Though I must admit, it gives my heart great joy to know I made the right decision."
"Is that so?"
"You do know the circumstances revolving around my invitation for Gajeel to join the guild, do you not?"
"Of course I do."
"Of course you do. Everyone does. But I must admit, not all of it was exactly the way I laid it out for you back then, or even the way I laid it out to Gajeel himself. You see, I instilled upon him the idea that there could be no absolute forgiveness for what he did to Levy and Jet and Droy on that day Fairy Tail and Phantom Lord went to war. And perhaps in the hearts and minds of the wizards of Fairy Tail that will always ring true." Makarov tweaked his mustache and peered sidelong at Mirajane as the pair stepped out of the corridor and back into the main dining hall. "I did not advise at that time that there is only one whose forgiveness truly matters. The forgiveness of Shadow Gear itself, and in particular…"
"Levy," Mirajane mumbled, understanding in her eyes.
"Precisely." Makarov started toward the bar. "Based on what we saw this morning, I'd say that for Levy at least, that forgiveness has been officially granted."
"Maybe. Though I could have told you that a long time ago, Master."
Makarov smiled. "True enough." He slipped behind the bar and began rummaging through the cupboard beneath. "We all knew this was a long time coming. The pair has grown quite close, even if they themselves never quite took notice."
"Oh, I'd say Levy always knew."
"Maybe instinctively," Makarov agreed. He selected a bottle from the stash beneath the bar and pulled out two glasses, setting them on the table.
"Rose Petal brandy," Mirajane said. "Interesting choice for six in the morning."
"Maybe." He was pouring her a drink without asking. He knew he didn't have to ask. "But it's sweet on the tongue and gentle on the gut and senses. Perfect for a toast between a crotchety old man and a classy young lady."
"Let me guess. Today we're celebrating young love."
"Good enough a reason to drink as any, I think."
Mira arched a brow as she met his gaze. "Really? When did you ever need an excuse to drink at six in the morning?"
"You mean since I've known you?" Makarov grinned up at her. "To young love and tender hearts."
"Absolutely, Master." Their glasses clinked together, a song of elated souls, and as they drank he lost himself in her simple joy. Hers was a smile that could light the heavens.
She knew the scars were there, even though she couldn't see them.
Levy watched the gentle rise and fall of Gajeel's chest as he slept. Nearly eight years ago (and much less time than that if you considered that nearly seven whole years had been spent in stasis at Tenrou Island), she had vowed to herself to help heal the broken man who had come to Fairy Tail after having knocked the building to the ground days before, a man who had lost his way. In the days since he had rediscovered the path he had always been destined to follow.
Of course the scars he had suffered during his lost years spent in the company of his guildmates at Phantom Lord would never fully heal. Levy knew this as well as anyone. Every time she peered into those piercing red eyes, she could see pain behind them no one else could. She suspected Gajeel knew this as well, and maybe in his own way he didn't want them to heal. Knowing him, these were scars that he would forever embrace, for they had helped to forge the man he was today. Levy had come to know those scars, and swore she would stay by his side, for as long as he allowed it. Together they had set him on his new path as a Fairy Tail wizard, and, at least she hoped, as her lover.
His chest rose and fell slowly with each deep breath. At first she wondered how he could possibly still be asleep after they had been walked in on. For a Dragon Slayer, that seemed impossible. His ears were as sharp as anyone she had ever known (with maybe the slim exception of Natsu). Hell, her heart had been pounding like a jackhammer when the door opened. Just who had gotten a perfect look at her scrawny, naked ass while she was draped over the similarly pantless Iron Dragon Slayer? Did they recognize that she had fallen asleep with his penis in her hand? Maybe. She was grateful she hadn't squeezed it in surprise when their restful slumber had been intruded upon.
Thankfully, whoever had caught sight of them had chosen to walk away instead of confronting them. That was probably good. It would have been embarrassing, but Levy knew she could deal. Just how would Gajeel have responded, though? She didn't really want to think about it. In fact, she might never hear the end of it if Gajeel had done… well, whatever it was Gajeel would have done.
She drew a breath and lightly let her lips fall upon his nipple. She released it with a soft, wet kiss. He continued to sleep, unaffected.
She let her hand come off of his flaccid penis and slide up his body to rest on his abdomen. She pushed herself in close and relaxed against him. Gajeel moaned softly, his arm around her tightening, squeezing her gently to him.
She smiled against his chest.
"Welcome back to the land of the living."
"Was that Makarov?" he asked slowly.
"I… how…" Levy shook her head. "No, never mind. I know better."
He smirked. "Yeah," he agreed in a soft voice. "Makarov and Mira too."
"Really? Geesh…"
"I know. We'll never hear the end of it, will we?"
"Maybe the end of it. But she'll never stop smiling at you now."
"Meh. Not like she ever stops smiling anyway."
Levy considered that for a moment. She decided he was mostly right. "You know, Gajeel. I don't think I'll be able to look you straight in the eye for a few days myself."
Gajeel glanced down at her and then barked out a laugh.
"What?"
"You could barely look me straight in the eye anyway. What's so different now?"
Levy glanced at him. "Now? Now, it's the fact that I can do this, and you can't stop me."
He flinched at her touch, and before he knew it, he was hers all over again. Of course Gajeel knew she was right. Not that it really mattered. After a moment's thought, he decided didn't want her to stop.