nice legs, daisy dukes
by mirajens
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Laxus Dreyar was a man who made it a point to never listen to people. Self-assured, cocky, vain and callous, he was the flesh incarnate of every jock slash asshole hybrid of all coming of age movies. His credentials as a scoundrel would feature a tiring and distressing sight, best left to the imagination of the ones who kept their ears to the ground and heard the shameless whispers. Still, in the way of teenage youth, many looked up to him and desired the notoriety he wore like skin. But even the greatest villains fell, and if Laxus could be fucked to ponder his Achilles' Hell, he'd bet it had something to do with gramps's impression that recklessness would be Laxus' downfall.
And he was very reckless.
Perhaps this story would be best told from beginning to end, an easier account of the events that lead to Laxus stripped down to wet denim booty shorts with dripping foam on his abs and neon paint spelling "$20" on his pectorals.
See, if Laxus Dreyar's life was the Milky Way, Friday night football games would be the sun. A bulking mass of pure muscle and bone tipping 250 on the scale, Laxus was a beast bred for one thing and one thing only: brutal sportsmanship. Not surprisingly, he was the archetypal quarterback who also happened to be the captain of the football team by senior year (second senior year, actually; he'd been held back from graduating last year due to an incident involving an en masse exam cheating ring that ought to earn a Pulitzer for the dedication and awe-inspiring execution of theory and practice, but that was a story for another time). His grades were not very bad (a just passing grade was good enough for him) as this was a requirement for participation in extra-curriculars so by day he was an ambling by student and by night, he was king of the field, the star of every game and in some way, hero of the school.
King of the field or not, he was prone to err. The costliest one was his foolish behavior at Lucy Heartfilia's birthday party.
Approximately 70 individuals had shown up for the "quiet get together" in Manor Heartfilia, a startling fact that reduced the birthday girl to tears until her best friend slash not-boyfriend Natsu Dragneel handed her the fourth sneaky whiskey shot and Lucy wept no more and she was ready to offer her lightweight soul to the party gods.
It was some time around midnight or possibly three am (he couldn't be sure, he was a bit plastered himself) that the last of Laxus' sobriety left the astral plane and he, along with the other football players celebrating their latest victory, engaged in a silly game that consisted of standing around the marble and granite island counter hosting two sets of solo cups and waiting for one of them to die of alcohol poisoning. Some cultures would call this Beer Pong. In any case, his partner Bickslow was too drunk to see straight, much less be in control of aim and depth perception so it was Laxus who threw the ping pong ball and Bickslow who downed the shot. He guessed it was the blue-haired man who was going to be the one dying of alcohol poisoning.
From the opposing team, Gray and Loke took a healthier approach with them alternating evenly. Loke swayed before he posed for an overhead toss and with the luck that favored little shits like him, he landed the orange ball into the last cup in front of Bickslow.
To the sound of jeering and taunts, Bickslow manfully upended the plastic cup into his mouth . Laxus laughed with the crowd, easily happy with Jack Daniel's particles fusing with his very genetic structures. "Tough luck, bud." He said, slapping Bickslow on the back. Bickslow tipped forward and almost cracked his forehead on the marble were it not for Laxus taking a grip of his collar. "Come on, you're a mess. I'll hold your purse while you throw up."
Laxus had an ironclad system for long nights that involved alcohol and it was a regular purging. Sometimes he threw it up but most times he pissed it off. Since Bickslow chose the former method, heaving pungent sick onto the blueberry bushes edging the pool house, Laxus utilized the latter. That, and ten minutes staring into the void of the night and breathing fresh air made him feel half human enough to return to the festivities. He was still seeing double but he wasn't in as bad condition as Bickslow who groaned the whole time and bent at the waist as they walked back into the main house.
"Jesus, Bickslow, you better not need emergency medical assistance because I'm pretty sure there are only four people who can legally drink in here." Laxus called, eyeing his friend who looked ready to foam at the mouth and keel over.
"Fuck off, I'm fine. I'm going to die in my own house. I'm no fucking snitch." Bickslow's words were admirable but his tone was pathetic. Bickslow tried to stand to full height but he still slouched as he walked further into the house where the bodies were increasing in population.
Laxus quickly forgot about his friend when his eyes found white, a whole head of downy curls the color of moon beams attached to a body sculpted by God when he was on some good kush. Mirajane Strauss was a first class Specimen: genetically perfect, undeniably desirable, concentrated sin on legs, honor student, cheerleader, chef hopeful, tutor and the star of most of Laxus' private late night features. The lady had an impressive record of achievements but Laxus was perhaps too stupid to ever be intimidated by any successful woman. He'd been trying to pursue her since the school year started but it all boiled down to her not seeing any merit in dating him because he was too much trouble and wildness for her peaceful demeanor.
He still dug it.
"'You drinking tonight, Strauss?" was his clever greeting, his voice low which had her hackles visibly rising.
Mirajane spun away from the tall shelves of books and faced him with minute inflections of worry and irritation on her expression. "Well," she shook the long-necked bottle of beer she held to answer his question. "You obviously have been. I heard you and the other guys getting wild there. My brother better be in one piece." Elfman played fullback on the team, a fact that made Mirajane anxious. Full-contact sport was the least of her worries what with Elfman's alarming body mass, but it was more the company of the team that made Mira iffy. Those football players were notoriously careless.
"He's fine. There's not enough alcohol in this city block to count as something in ratio to his body." Laxus brushed her sisterly concern off and appraised her attire. Tight, bright and exciting, it sent the fastest signals from his central nucleus to his crotch. "What're you up to? Are you honestly thinking about reading a book in this noise?" He pointed his chin at the volumes of hardbacks behind her.
A pretty, faint flush dusted above Mirajane's nose. "The title I wanted was too high up anyway."
When Laxus successfully managed to shake off the sappy voice in his head that she was beautiful and perfect and kissable and nice-smelling, his brain suggested he impress her. "Which one is it? I'll get it for you."
"That purple one, it's a collection of Poe. But honestly, don't bother."
Of course, Laxus wouldn't have it. As if the very notion of height affronted him, he gripped the highest shelf he could reach and elevated himself through the rows of books. Sweat broke out in his forehead. Normally such a a task wouldn't phase him but with alcohol heavy and hot in his veins, it was an effort. Just four feet up and he was panting. Vaguely, he could hear Mirajane call him down. "Laxus, stop that! Get back here, you idiot!"
Foolishly he craned his head so he could look down at her and smirk. "Are you conce-" Combining the effort of climbing and talking was too much on his diminished coordination so his step missed which startled him so much he lost his grip. And down he fell looking like a giant bear that dropped from a tall pine.
He wished that was the last of it.
No, he had to fall onto a very human pile of bones and flesh, one that gasped and cried out and emanated a sickening crunching sound when his full weight settled on her. He hurt all over, but he was also terrified out of his wits which made him scramble off Mirajane faster than a gunshot. A panicked look settled over his face when he saw Mira on the floor, her leg bent inward at an awkward angle, her face an alarming shade of puce and fat tears rolling down her cheeks. Labored breath wheezed out with pitiful sobs, a terrible melody to the dire situation. "I need someone who can drive!" Laxus called out when his faculties finally returned. "Someone call Elfman, too!"
A crowd was starting to form around them, panicked whispers rising in volume. Laxus could see Natsu push through the people, wide eyes flickering to Mirajane. "What happened!" he exclaimed more than asked, Lucy materializing by his side.
"I think her leg's broken. We need to get her to the hospital." Laxus answered for Mirajane who he trusted was in too much pain to speak. "Can you drive?"
Natsu was notorious for his award-winning metabolism, just occasionally a damper because he burned through the alcohol in his system before a blessed drunk could wash over him but in this case, it was god-sent. "Yeah. I'll get the car. Wait for me outside." He ran out through the path everyone made or him, Lucy hot on his heels.
Then, it was Elfman's turn to appear.
"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO MY SISTER, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" Came the jolting roar of the biggest teenager Laxus had ever seen, no small amount of fright clouding his intoxicated head. Despite Elfman's aggressive yell, he looked like he was about to cry at the sight of his brave, strong sister so vulnerable on the floor. His large hands picked her up bridal style, his movements slowed by half the time when Mirajane cried out from the shooting pain that ran up her leg where Elfman touched her. "Sorry, nee-san. Just for a while. We'll get you sorted out." Then, he faced Laxus. Normally, Laxus was all right and easy enough to tolerate. Now, Elfman only saw his blood smeared on the marble tiles of the Heartfilia home. "I'll murder you when this is done. Don't even hide, asshole, you'll be sorry for this."
Perhaps Laxus was trying to prove just how big of a fool he was because he followed the Strausses out the main door where Natsu hazarded, looking a tiny bit green behind the wheel. Lucy sat shotgun, quickly instructing a dependable Erza to usher all party-goers from her house and please, please make sure the premises were clean if she couldn't return soon. Erza, bright red from 1970's Vodka, gave a stiff salute with the promise of responsibility.
Elfman maneuvered his big bulk cradling his sister into the low roof of Natsu's truck. Laxus quickly ran to the other side to jump in before Natsu could drive away.
"What are you doing here? We're fine. We don't need any more trouble from you." Elfman growled as he glared at Laxus.
Laxus' mouth was set in a flat line as he tried to ignore Elfman's deep bass as he addressed Mirajane. "How're you holding up, Mira? I'll take care of this, okay? I'm sorry. I'll do anything you want."
Mirajane had stopped crying but her lower lips still trembled. "You're paying for my hospital bills. My parents won't be home until next week, you jerk."
A breath of relief expelled from Laxus. "I can do that."
After two hours inside the ER, Mirajane was finally wheeled out by a dour-faced Elfman. Natsu and Lucy had long left, replaced by Evergreen who came in Laxus' car and Lisanna who still wore pajamas and a bit of face mask stuck to her chin.
"Mira-nee, are you okay?" Lisanna said, pushing off the wall when she caught sight of Elfman, then her sister.
"I'm fine. They gave me a lot of nice drugs that Laxus will pay for." Mirajane eyed him cooly, making sweat break out on his forehead. "I'm just tired."
"I'll drive you home," Laxus said, laying a hand on a handle of the wheelchair which Elfman temporarily abandoned to address Evergreen. He was quick to see Laxus' advance though, and his large, dark hand swat Laxus' away.
"Fuck off, buddy. I got this." Elfman muttered, earning horrified looks and protests from Evergreen and his sisters.
"Relax, giant, I'm just trying to help." Laxus scoffed. If the oaf wasn't too busy flirting─
The aforementioned large hand dated out to grip Laxus' throat. A shocked gasp made the air leave his lungs.
"You have done enough. Stay away from her before you break the other leg."
Evergreen and Lisanna were screaming and hitting Elfman's forearm respectively but all it took for bedlam to cease was Mirajane's quiet voice. "Enough. Both of you. Elfman, stop being hostile, okay? It was an accident. I'm okay. Laxus will drive us home. If I hear anymore fighting, you will get matching casts like mine."
Now that was the last of it.
For that day, anyway.
In the way of the guilty, Laxus showed up at the Strauss home bright and early the next morning. He'd dropped the siblings off sometime around five AM and Evergreen shortly after. He'd been unable to sleep, wracked by guilt and ears ringing from the stern talking to his grandfather served him when the old man saw the electronic receipt for thousands of dollars off Laxus' card under his name. By nine, Laxus was almost rotting from the putrid blame sitting on his shoulders. Running off fumes and staving off the onslaught of a hangover, he got a box of doughnuts before driving back to Mirajane's house.
He parked right on the driveway and knocked on the baby blue door of the quaint two-storey. He expected a wait- it wasn't like the inhabitants of the house had any decent sleep at this hour yet, and he told himself he was going to leave if no one answered. But Lisanna did, puffy eyed from having just woken up and rumpled in her pajamas. She looked like she almost didn't want to let him in, what with the shit Elfman had been telling her all night. "Do I have some of those doughnuts?" she asked.
"Sure." Laxus said with a shrug. It seemed that was all the bribery she needed because despite Elfman's orders that no "Son Of A Bitch Dreyar" be allowed through their threshold, the smell of deep fried confectioneries was too much to pass up.
"Mira-nee! Your boyfriend is here!"
Lisanna was walking to the kitchen and Laxus didn't want to wait by the door like some nerve-ridden suitor so he followed her. The smell of bacon permeated the air, the greasy scent calling to his hangover. It almost didn't matter that Elfman was the one cooking it. The male Strauss stood by the stove top, a pair of tongs in hand and a murderous expression on his face. "You─" he started to yell, cut off by Mirajane clearing her throat.
Laxus found her sitting by the breakfast nook, the wheelchair he bought replacing a chair from the set. The sight made guilt roll in his gut again, among the dregs of last night's party. "I meant what I said last night. I'm too peaky to put up with any testosterone."
Not knowing what to say to that ("I didn't even think about starting a fight with your freakish brother, Mirajane!") Laxus shook the wide box of doughnuts. "I didn't think you'd want flowers of balloons." He said as he joined her by the nook, earning a deeper glare from Elfman. "How are you doing?"
Mirajane sipped on a mug of tea. "I've reached my quota of answering that question already. Give me a doughnut instead."
Laxus obeyed, opening the box and selecting the prettiest one covered with confectioner's sugar and filled with jelly. "I really am sorry. I get kinda dumb when I'm drunk."
Mirajane quirked a brow at him. Kinda was an understatement. But he had meant well trying to get that book for her and he'd paid for everything and more last night. She was not a vengeful person and it wasn't like there was anything to be done for what had passed. "I've thought of one way you can make it up to me today."
It was adorable how fast he perked up. "I'll happily be your bitch until your cast is off."
A sadistic smile she couldn't quite help raised the edges of her mouth. Knowing her plan, Elfman laughed by the stove. Even Lisanna was grinning behind an éclair she'd plucked from the box of pastries. "Excellent. You may have heard the cheer-leading squad is having a fund raiser today."
Not really, he almost admitted. Not wanting to anger her, he nodded. He figured the worst she could ask was for him to drop a sum that would cancel out the event and while his funds were still hurting and gramps wouldn't be hard-pressed to freeze his account should Laxus spend anymore, he could make money with a dumb job. Who wouldn't hire someone as big and strong as him?
Mirajane on the other hand, could see right through him. Laxus was not known to pay attention to events not involving himself. "You can absorb my duties for today. That will be easy enough for you, right?"
"Fucking yeah." Was that all? He almost chuckled at the dreadful favor she would ask but if all he had to do was play cashier at a bake sale or whatever the cheerleaders had planned then it was going to be a piece of cake.
"Oh, would you happen to own a pair of daisy dukes?" Mirajane asked coyly, willing her grin off her face.
It turns out he didn't, and that didn't mean he was off the hook.
When he arrived at the school grounds with Mirajane, the first thing she asked him to do right after he set her up in her wheelchair was to strip. All fucking right, a voice in his head screamed. Mirajane sure was something, asking him to take his shirt off like this just to titillate some housewives into buying more baked goods from the stand. Speaking of the stand, he wondered where it was.
Cockily, he handed her his shirt with a smirk. Mirajane did not blush, smiling brighter instead. "Don't stop there. Hand over those jeans. And maybe the shoes, too, if you don't want to get them wet."
Wet? What the fuck was she talking about? Not wanting to ruin her cheerful mood, he obliged, thought the tips of his ears were reddening. With all the cool he possessed, he kicked off his sneakers and shucked off his pants. Before her, he stood in boxer briefs and a flushed neck. So she was trying to embarrass him! He wouldn't give her that satisfaction. "Smooth, Strauss. Though if you wanted to see me naked you didn't need to make a production out of it. You know I'll always strip for ya."
Mirajane nodded, as if to placate him. "Uh-huh." Then, she took a pair of scissors from the purse on her lap.
And started cutting the legs off his jeans.
"Whoa, what the fuck!" Those were hundred dollar jeans. And beside that, those were the only pants he came with. How did she expect him to get home with those?
"Oh, shut it. We need you to blend in with today's theme." She said as she diligently hacked off denim until his pants were nothing more than tiny shorts.
"Theme?" He echoed. "What, male strippers?"
Mirajane gave a non-committal grunt. "Something like that. Here you go. You can put these on or go about in your underwear. I don't mind either." She handed him the shorts which he quickly, foolishly shoved up his legs. "Come on now. We're stationed at the football field." She gestured to the handles of her chair and urged him to push.
"Jeez, at least give me my shirt. You're a perv, Strauss." Laxus huffed, a bit shy now.
It didn't take long for the "fund raiser" scene to settle into his brain. Buckets, hoses, sponges, squeegees and girls in wet clothing running around cars.
Jesus.
"I suppose I deserve this." Laxus said, voice tight, making Mirajane giggle.
"I suppose you did!" she agreed jovially. "Now let me put the finishing touches on you." She dug around her purse again, then pulled out some violet scrap.
She brandished the bikini top at him with a hopeful grin. "Want me to tie it on for you?"
Laxus looked down at her with an expression that could wilt plants. "No. I'm drawing the line at the shorts." None of the girls were as scantily clad as he was. They might have been wet but they still wore something over their swimming tops.
With her sentiments from earlier echoing in her mind (that she was not a vengeful person, not the one about how cute Laxus would look in Daisy Dukes and a bikini top), she relented. She didn't want to push Laxus so far that he would go home. He would pull quite the revenue in all his wet glory. "Okay. I can compromise on something else."
Something else turned out to be the price of a car wash written on his pecs with the pink marker from the whiteboard keeping tally of the funds they've accumulated. By that time, Laxus was too deep in mortification to even feel it. He had to get himself into the spirit of things to make it less agonizing on his end.
"Any more finishing touches?" He asked Mirajane tartly, not wanting to sound like a spoil sport but failing. The sour look on his face didn't take away from the immaculate glow the morning sun lent him. Mirajane kept her approval silent. Laxus didn't need any more hot air blown into his balloon of an ego.
"You're good. Why don't you go join Erza over there. You can keep Mrs. Hori… amused while she waits for her car to get clean."
Laxus inhaled, building himself up for what was sure to be the oddest contrition he'd ever had to suffer. "All right. Time to give old women a reason to feel joy again." When he turned away from Mirajane and bent to pick up his tools, she couldn't help but appreciate her handiwork on his previously boring jeans.
In the end, the turnout was better than Mirajane could have hoped for. Sometime after lunch, the football team had shown up after Elfman revealed the dastardly scheme that included their captain in booty shorts. Upon their arrival, the scores of damn ladies in minimum attire took only a small effort in convincing the men that they wanted to partake in the car wash and relieve the cheerleaders from the stress. Once shirts came off and HOT MEN CARWASH advertised on a board waved by the side of the nearest, busiest road, a line of customers arrived, most of them moms and all of them willing to pay more than the asking price for an amateurish scrub down.
Once night fell, the cheer-leading squad settled in Cana's empty house, clad in comfy pajamas and just a little bit buzzed on Margaritas as they counted all the money that would go into Cheer Camp. To cap off what was already such a pleasant night was a video presentation hastily but still flawlessly put together by Levy
The stars of the show: Laxus Dreyas in Hooter's length shorts and his army of wet football players armed with sponges and buffing rags.
note: I aged Laxus down to 19. Mirajane is 18.