I am delighted, absolutely delighted that you enjoyed the bit about Erza because really, who wouldn't?
Last chapter is also the longest.
Chapter 7: Cake
She sighed in frustration. Flour dusted over her cheeks. She whined at the mess that exploded in her kitchen. Her front door sliding open pulled her out of her irritation.
"Gray?" She asked in confusion. "What are you doing here?"
He paused at the door before closing it gently, "what are you doing out of bed?" He quickly crossed the room and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, "well, your fever is gone. You should still be in bed though."
She sighed in relief at his cool hand, "I'm fine. I'm sick of being in bed."
"Erza, you had the flu. You need to replenish."
"I've replenished plenty." Gray sighed, knowing better than to argue with her and instead took in the mess of her kitchen, "what's going on here?"
"Nothing," she mumbling.
"Nothing? Then why does it look like a vulcan ripped through your usually pristine kitchen?"
"I wanted to bake a cake," she pouted prettily. "To thank you for taking care of me."
Gray, clearly not expecting such an answer, flushed, "it's not a big deal. Don't worry about it."
"Still…"
Gray chuckled and moved next to her, "how can I help?" She shooed him away, "I can't have you help me make your own cake!"
"Erza, your kitchen is a disaster area." She growled at that, "shut up."
He ignored her, "you need to mix all your dry ingredients first. Then mix your wet ingredients. And then slowly mix your dry mix into the wet mix." She glared at him. She hated how much sense that made, "I thought you only cooked curry and chicken soup."
"Well, yeah but that doesn't mean I don't know the basics of cake baking." She moved to do what he said both reluctantly and eagerly. His hip leaned on the counter, watching her work in concentration. She moved to add sugar to the mix when he grasped her wrist. She gasped and he plucked the container from her hand, unappreciative of his sudden grip. "That's not sugar, Erza." She glanced at the container, "it's salt." Her eyes widened and slowly lowered the container. He handed her the correct container.
He went to move to her side when he slipped on a puddle of milk Erza had spilled earlier and landed on his back with a painful slam. "Gray!" She quickly bent over him, "are you okay?" He groaned and rolled to his side, "why am I always slamming into the floor when I'm here?"
She snickered, "my house must not like you very much." He sat up, "it's not funny."
"Sorry." She looked at his drenched clothing and helped him up, "you know where the bathroom is. Go clean up."
He dragged his feet over to the bathroom, stripping as he went. She shook her head and returned to mixing her ingredients. After several minutes, she moved on to starting her wet mix when she heard a knock. Grabbing a washcloth, she wiped down her hands and went to answer the front door.
It was Cana and Mira.
"What are you guys doing here?"
"Came to check up on you. Duh."
"And to also check up on Gray." Mira nodded, "yeah, have you seen him? We wanted to make sure he's feeling all right."
"What do you mean?" Erza has been out of it the last week but she wasn't able to piece together what they were saying. "Gray. He's been a mess the last couple of days. I think he caught whatever bug you had."
"We volunteered to watch over you in his place while he recuperated but he refused it. The idiot. He looked like he was knocking on Death's door."
"Poor guy. He must be so tired."
"He.. he got sick?" She murmured to herself, "he didn't say." Cana shrugged, "anyway, if you see him, maybe you can knock some sense into him. Get him to rest or something. We're gonna head out." She sluggishly bid them farewell, still dazed by the reveal that Gray had been sick as well.
She closed the door quietly and stood here, her mind running a thousand mile a minute with whys and making sense of what Cana and Mira had said. When she turned around, the man in question was leaning against the wall. "You got sick," she whispered, "I got you sick."
"It's nothing."
"It's not nothing, Gray. You got sick taking care of me and you continued to take care of me after that."
He nodded. There was no point in denying it, "I did."
"Why?"
He pushed himself off the wall and slowly approached her, not wanting to startle her as her mind continued to work furiously, "you know why, Erza," his voice rumbled quietly, deeply.
And in that instant she did.
She moved quickly, pulling Gray down to meet her lips. The kiss was needy with want, Gray nipping at her lips while her hands roamed to squeeze his ass. He parted his lips in a silent gasp and she slipped her tongue into him; tasting the insides of his mouth and curling her tongue to stroke the roof of his mouth and the backs of his teeth. He stumbled, guiding her to the wall, needing something sturdy to hold them up.
He pulled away, pressing his forehead to her own, "I'm still sick. You just got better. Don't wanna get you sick again," he muttered against her cheek. "Don't care. Worth it." And then they're back to kissing desperately. Every moan and gasp mentally cataloged for further exploration. She rose to her toes, wanting to climb up his body to get closer to him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up easily. Sighing happily, she wrapped her legs around him as he pushed her further into the wall. His lips trailed down her throat, nipping playfully along the way. He grinned against her soft skin at her mewling, his cock hardening further at the knowledge that he was the reason for her clawing at his back.
"Bedroom," he felt her gasp against his lips and obligingly strode to her room, kicking the door open and tumbling onto the bed. He rubbed himself against her, seeking relief from the painful throbbing of his cock but to no avail. She pushed him up so that he hovered over her. Quickly whipping off her shirt, she then moved to push her pajama bottoms over her hips when he stopped her; wanting to peel them off himself. Wanting to take his time to tease her but not possessing the patience to do so, he yanked her bottom and underwear off in one fluid motion. They can do the slow and teasing later.
And just as quickly as he divested her of her clothes, his head was between her legs. His lips brushing, teeth gnawing, and tongue licking at her pale inner thigh. She panted, her head thrown back into the mattress. She instantly knew that there was going to be a bruise before they were done but she couldn't bring herself to care. She'll pay him back in kind later. She became restless; hands grasping and releasing the sheets while her legs tried to coax him closer. He rubbed his cheek and nose against her thigh until she groaned in frustration, "Gray… please…please."
Satisfied that she'd been sufficiently teased (for now), he lapped at her; his tongue gently probing her folds until he found her hardened nub. He flicked at her clit and her low moans turned into a strangled cry. He suckled at her, drawing her into his mouth while his tongue continued to swipe at the sensitive bud. Her hands flew to his hair and her thighs clamped down around him, holding him to her. He dragged his teeth over her and her body stiffened and her cries, while muffled, still rang loudly in his ears.
He tried to maneuver the best he could with his head locked between her legs and ran the tip of his tongue along her slit; tasting her. Above him, she thrashed as he slid the wet muscle into her; wriggling and curling into her as deep as he could. He buried his face between her thighs, his nose bumping against her clit. She was teetering on the edge and then she was falling apart at the intrusion of his questing fingers; bathing his tongue in her juices. He continued to lick at her, cleaning her as she came down from her high. Her hold on him loosening and with one last lash of the tongue, he pulled away.
She lied there, gasping for breath when she heard the clink of metal from his belt coming undone. And all of a sudden, the only thing she could hear was the sound of the zipper echoing loudly in her ears. He undid himself slowly, almost seductively, and tossed his trousers onto the growing pile by the bed. He crawled over her and she instinctually parted her legs for him; his hands skimming over her stomach as she curled her legs around his calves.
"Condom," he swallowed roughly at the sight beneath him: Erza naked, flushed, and wanton with various red and purple splotches and bites and hickeys littering her pale skin. "Drawer." He reached over to the night stand, "other drawer," she clarified. He sighed and reached over to the left. He rooted around until he felt the box he was looking for. He scanned the package and noticed the expiration, "Erza, these are going to expire in two weeks..."
"Really?" She took the box from him and upon examination, he was right. "Guess we'll just have to use it all up before then."
The box was untouched except for maybe two or three.
He grinned, "I love how your brain thinks."
"Well, I just wouldn't want it to go to waste."
"No, that would be reprehensible." He ripped through the packaging and tore one off, setting the rest to the side. He carefully ripped open the square foil and rolled the thin rubber over his member. He slid his fingers into her again, thrusting in and out until she was slick and writhing again.
All of a sudden, he finds himself on his back with Erza perched on his lap, fingers still miraculously buried into her. She bit her lip in concentration, trying not to cry out as she thrust herself on his fingers. He reached up with his other hand, thumb gently rubbing her lip, "don't do that. I want to hear you," his voice was shaky but husky. Her lips were red and swollen by the combination of their harsh kisses and chewing. Her mouth fell open in a loud moan when he simultaneously plucked at a hard nipple and curled his long fingers, brushing against the bundle of nerves.
But then she pulled herself off his fingers, seeking something thicker, something bigger to fill and stretch her. She reached for him, positioning herself and instead of slowly sinking onto him that he was expecting, she impaled herself hard and fast onto him. His choked groan died at the back of his throat, his hips bucking off the bed. His fingers dug into her hips, "fuck, you're so tight."
She rose up until she was almost off him before slamming back down; dual moans filling the room. "Maybe you're just really big," she retorted. His chuckle rumbled through her, sending shivers through her body. "You sure know how to stroke a guy's ego."
"That's not all I know how to stroke," she grinned mischievously. He groaned at that as all the possibilities quickly flashed through his mind. He watched her rise and fall onto him, her breasts swaying as she rode him and he suddenly wanted, no needed to have his mouth on her. He pushed himself up to sit, palming her breast before licking and suckling at her, wanting to mar her delicate skin further. Her hips jerked at his ministrations and then his fingers slid between their bodies, expertly locating her clit and rubbing it before giving it a rough tug and twist.
She came harder than she did the first time, clamping down tightly around him as his name fell from her lips. She whimpered as she continued to ride him. He pumped his hips up at her, "squeeze me, Erza." She mustered all her remaining strength and clenched around him and with one final thrust, he came with her name tearing through his throat.
She slid off of him, collapsing on her side; his softening cock slipping out of her easily. He flopped back onto the bed after rolling and tying the condom off before disposing it in the waste by the bed. She stumbled to the bathroom and reappeared shortly with some warm towels. They cleaned each other up; wiping the the sweat and stickiness from their bodies. She curled up against his side sighing contently before drifting off to sleep.
...Until a hacking cough seized her body.
...Bastard got her sick again.
…Still worth it.
Phew. That's it. It was the two week expiration idea that was rattling around my head that started this whole thing. So once again, I was working backwards on this. I got a wee bit lazy but I don't think it's too noticeable. Also, I'm not a play-by-play commentator.
To all the wonderful readers, followers, and commenters, thank you for reading, following, and commenting through out this whole thing.
Praise be. (John Oliver'd)
Until next time!
Or not. I don't control my brain.
