.
.of fire and stardust.
in another life, they could have been;
.
prompt: half-life
notes: set in a fantasy au in which lucy is a princess and natsu is a dragon slayer but social status keeps them apart. although i'm sure you could have figured that out by yourself.
.
i want you more than anything,
but we both know
it was never meant to be.
The confines of society and the restrictions of social status mean nothing here in the darkness with nothing separating them but extravagant bedclothes and silk sheets.
There are no titles, no princess and dragon slayer, just Natsu and Lucy, just her and him and them together.
When they are together like this, it's easy for Natsu to forget that he doesn't belong in her world, that their differing social statuses should keep them farfar apart.
But away from the prying, judgmental eyes of society, they are closecloseclose, close enough that Natsu can feel the steady heat of her smooth skin, and it's a stark contrast from the cold that's settled deep in his bones, despite the nature of his magic.
Her usually gentle fingers brush rough and distracting against the line of his jaw, the curve of his neck, across his collarbone, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Goose bumps rise on the bare skin as her hand glides leisurely down his chest, like she's committing the grooves and ridges of his skin to memory. Her lips follow suit; she finds his jaw and works her way downward, tracing detail across his chest with her tongue, taking her time. His hands flutter against her shoulders, and he closes his eyes where it's even darker still.
When she touches him, agonizingly slow, Natsu's stomach churns and his legs go weak — something he's never felt, even after all the fearsome dragons he's fought. She's driving him crazy, drunk on love and breathless with desire, and he wonders — does she know what she does to him?
He is at her mercy, and there's few things he hates more than being at anyone's mercy — he likes being in charge, because that's just how he is, that's what he's used to — but for her, he'll make an exception. Only for her. Everything for her.
His hands on her shoulders become insistent, and she lets him pull her back up. But she doesn't relent; she's as bright as the sun and as bold as the moon, her hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into him, her sweet breath fanning across his mouth. He leans forward to steal a kiss —
— and she's gone, slipping away from him with a muffled giggle, only to return again, closer this time.
She knows.
He can't see her, but he can feel her body right against him, a warm weight in his lap. Lucy winds her arms around his neck, their bodies pressing together as she meets him halfway. The kiss is real, this time, no hesitant teasing, fierce and urgent and desperate, and he almost forgets how to breathe. Her lips are like an inferno, hothothot, and he marvels at the taste of her mouth even after all this time — stardust, and something else that he doesn't recognize.
She doesn't give him time to ponder just what that something else is, though, because she's done teasing; she lifts her mouth and kisses him again, her lips practiced and sure.
She combs her fingers into his hair and he grips her legs, nails leaving pink trails. She is everywhere, all he can seesmellheartaste, steadily rocking closer but still not close enough.
He's supposed to be the fire wielder, but everywhere she's touching him is on fire. Natsu's well acquainted with fire, but these flames are something new and foreign and not entirely unpleasant, a desperate burn that sets his pulse stuttering wildly. She's dangerous with fire in ways that his magic will never be.
"Do you believe in love, Natsu?" she asks softly against his lips.
He pauses briefly, her words catching him off guard, before he replies, "I love you."
She smiles then, he can feel it; a bitter, rueful kind of smile that reminds him of rainy days and bad news. There's an anxious feeling in his gut that warns him there's something she's not telling him, but he doesn't press the matter.
"I love you, too," she mumbles, so quietly he wouldn't have heard her if not for his sensitive hearing.
She breaks the kiss and pulls away, and although he can hardly see her face, he knows the color of her eyes by heart, how brownbrown and how widewide they must be, staring up at him as if he's the most important thing in the world.
Maybe it's a little bit cliché, but she's the most important thing in his world. It hardly matters that she is a princess and he is a dragon slayer and Natsu's pretty sure the princess isn't supposed to fall in love with the dragon.
(He is no prince, but he desperately wants this happy ending, even if the odds are against him. He's never been good with fairy tales, but for her, he's willing to try. He'll do whatever it takes, if it's for her.)
She doesn't miss a beat; her fingers ghost over his face, and she dives back in for another kiss. It's a tender kiss, the soulful and bittersweet kind. He hates how much it feels like goodbye, like their time is running out.
He shifts so he can push her down, the mattress creaking under their weight, and if she's surprised, she doesn't show it. Hovering above her, he presses feather light kisses to her jaw. Lucy sighs, tilting her head to the side to grant him better access. His kisses are interspersed with little nips of his teeth. Every hitch in her breath and every muffled gasp makes the room feel smaller and the air feel denser as his hands map the patterns of her bare skin.
"Run away with me, Natsu," she breathes, her lips against the curve of his ear. "Please. We could make it, you and I."
The moon drifts out from behind a cloud, cool light slipping through the gap in the curtains and wandering across the room. When it finally lands on her face, her eyes are glassy with tears, a wetness on her cheeks he cannot he knows, because there is only one reason she would be crying now. He freezes temporarily, fear like he's never known clutching his heart in its talons for a brief moment.
She doesn't have to say it, but she does anyway, all in one breath. "My parents. They told me they've found a suitable match."
At first, he doesn't recognize the stinging in his chest and the aching in his heart, unfamiliar as it is unpleasant, because he's never had any reason to be jealous before — why should he be? But vaguely Natsu realizes that he's jealous of this man he's never met, because he will get to marry her and grow old with her, while Natsu is thrown to the side like a broken toy that's outlived its use and forgotten.
(Sometimes, Natsu wishes. He wishes for early morning kisses and weddings and for little pink haired, brown eyed children and Queen Lucy and King Natsu and a life he longs for but is just out of his reach.)
It doesn't seem fair, but that's just the way of things. She doesn't belong to him. They are from different worlds, the princess and the dragon slayer, and this is only one in a long string of painful reminders that he is the dragon, not the prince. He's known since the very beginning that this would all come crashing down on them, this relationship made of glass — if it can even be called that — but that doesn't mean it hurts any less.
He tries not to think about it, tries not to feel envy. He has no right.
He knows what that something else is, now — she tastes of stardust and everything he can't have.
"Natsu," she whispers, breaking the silence between them in a voice he's sure she didn't intend to sound so raw and needy. He growls deep in his throat and complies, one hand snaking down between her legs. He knows what she wants and where she wants it, and his fingers are sure but light and teasing. She huffs in frustration and clenches a hand in his hair.
Her message is clear, and he grins despite himself against the curve of her shoulder. He grabs her hands, interlacing their fingers and raising them over her head.
When he rocks against her, she lets out a satisfied gasp, arching her back.
He moves with a rhythm — fast, slow, fast, slow, until she's wrapping her legs around him again, bringing him closer and meeting his every thrust. Her hands leave his and she rakes her fingers across the dragon tattoo etched into the skin of his back, the rough edges of her nails leaving grooves. Her moans are soft and breathy and they make his blood burn hotter than any battle ever has. He kisses her hurriedly, messily, almost frantically, all sharp and sweet at once, and she says his name over and over like a prayer, the syllables running together.
Not even fighting dragons has ever made him feel this alive.
Lucy hides her face in the crook of his neck, and as she hits her limit and finds her release, she trembles and bites down on his shoulder to muffle her cry. He pounds into her until he finds his, and he grunts deep in his throat, raw and guttural, his whole body shaking. Clenching their interlaced hands, he lifts them up before banging them back down, and then he collapses against her, all boneless as he slowly comes down from his high.
The clouds roll on their way, and the unnatural darkness slides over them again. There is no other light to illuminate them now; the stars don't shine on sinners like them.
(And it is undoubtedly a sin, what they are doing, he knows as surely as there is air in his lungs, because not only is she royalty, but she is engaged, and he's been told over and over again since he was a child that the royal bloodline must be kept pure. They are probably breaking every rule there is, but Natsu can't even bring himself to care, because they've been breaking every rule from the start, anyway.)
They lie there in silence for a while, basking in the afterglow, all breathless and sated and intertwined. His fingers brush lazy circles on her hip, and he tries to commit every minute detail of her body to memory before it's too late.
He is not as brave as everyone seems to think, because the thought that this may well be the last time he holds her in his arms breaks his heart, but he'll put on a brave face for her if it means she gets her happy ending. They are living a half life, and Lucy deserves so much better. Even if it means he has to watch her be happy with her husband from the shadows for the rest of his life.
(He will let her go, because Natsu knows better than to dream for early morning kisses and weddings and for little pink haired, brown eyed children and Queen Lucy and King Natsu and the life that he knows he will never, ever have.)
It is he who admits that they must part when the sky blushes morning bright, illuminating the room. "I need to go."
They reluctantly untangle themselves from the sheets and don't look at each other as they dress in silence. He helps her button and tie her dress, brushing silky strands of hair out of the way and pressing a tender kiss to her neck.
"I meant it," she says abruptly. "I meant it when I asked you to run away with me."
Natsu doesn't reply. He doesn't think he can.
"Please, Natsu," she begs, her voice catching. "I don't want him. I want you."
He turns away. The hurt look in her eyes is more than he can take. "I know."
A hint of anger creeps into her tone and her fists clench unconsciously at her sides. "Why do you have to be so goddamn self sacrificing? Why do you have to be so selfless? Why can't you just be selfish for once? Maybe I'm just spoiled sick, but I don't want to be a princess if I can have everything but the one thing that matters!"
"I can't, Lucy," he says sadly, the words heavy on his tongue. "We can't."
"Why not? Why the hell not?" Her lip quivers, and she doesn't seem to notice the frustrated tears stinging her eyes.
"I want to just as much as you, but the world will never let a shared life between the two of us be anything but wrong! This isn't a fairy tale, Lucy!" Natsu whisper-shouts, then immediately wishes he could take the words back and claps a hand over his mouth. Hastily backtracking, he amends, "I didn't mean that. I'm sorry."
Lucy slumps as all the fight drains out of her and the angry light leaves her eyes. "It's okay."
She pauses. "What happens to us, after all of this?" she asks, more to herself than him, but she sounds so unsure, so broken, he wants to reach out and pull her into his arms. But he doesn't. He can't. The divide between them has never been so glaringly obvious. She will always be just out of his reach.
"I wish things were different," is all he says, because he does; he wishes with all his heart that things really were different. That she wasn't a princess or he wasn't a mere dragon slayer.
(Natsu really should know better than to wish, but old habits die hard and he never truly learns.)
In another life, they could have been, but there is no happy ending for them in this one.
—
"and i see fire (feel the heat upon my skin)
and i hope that you remember me"
fin.
notes:
forbidden relationships are the reason i struggle to survive so this happened. (this was written basically because i wanted to write nalu smut. there, i said it. oops.) i'm a little nervous about posting this because it's literally my first ever smut fic so there's that. also let's just pretend natsu's more mature in this au than he is usually in canon because i realized after i wrote this that he was a little bit ooc, shhh. all in all, i'm fairly happy with how this turned out, although i'll probably go back and revise in a day or so as usual.
that prompt was really loosely used, sorry i'm lame. also, i should mention that this au does not belong to me — underlings' fic is what originally inspired this. credit to rboz on tumblr for the cover art (you know the drill guys).
for amelia aka jaegering on tumblr because she's a cool cat!
drop a review or a favorite if you enjoyed? i'd love to hear your feedback or ways to improve!
disclaimer: characters © hiro mashima
