Author's note: inspired by the cover of chapter 67, written for Graylu Week 2021, and hosted by Tumblr's mysticmooonart who is doing god's work.
It's five-thirty in the morning, and Gray Fullbuster has been sitting in this makeup-stained chair for so long that his ass has fallen asleep.
"Why did I agree to this again?" he bemoans aloud.
A passing Mirajane stops to pinch his cheek. "Because you're a good boy!"
"You take that back!" he yells, but she's already waltzed off with her tripod. Gray turns to the closest source of moral support, who is rummaging through a makeup bag. "Hey, I'm a bad boy, right?"
"You are bad," agrees Lucy. "At flirting, strip poker, and not caving to female tears."
Days like this, he has no idea why he's somewhat interested in her.
"Like you wouldn't cave if Mira started cryi—wait, what's wrong with my flirting?"
Her voice drops low in a hammy imitation of his: "Shall I ice your butt for you?"
Gray flushes. He remembers finger-combing his bangs over one eye, in a hasty effort to look cool, before making that proposition.
Lucy squints at the back of a tube. "Side effects might include mild delirium. Hm."
Suddenly there are more pressing concerns at hand. "Dude, are you trying to kill me?"
"It's a solid bargain for seven jüls," she defends.
Gray watches fearfully as she squeezes some of the gunk onto a pink, egg-shaped sponge. To its credit, the sponge does not instantly disintegrate. "Shouldn't Sorcerer's Weekly have a bigger budget for this shit?"
"Big enough to cover half the rent."
"YOU STOLE—"
"Shhh!" The little thief has the nerve to sound miffed. "That apartment gets regularly invaded by gremlins who eat all the ice cream and read private manuscripts. Do you hear me complaining?" Before he can open his mouth to say all the time, she's taken his chin. "Now keep still."
When she leans in close to dab the sponge against his face, he kind of stops breathing. Okay, the interest might be a wee more than somewhat. Eventually, the little pink egg is retired and a powder brush takes its place. As it feathers its way across his cheekbones, Gray finds his hyperaware nerves relaxing. The bristles are soft, the powder smells sort of floral, and Lucy's fingertips are warm.
Maybe this isn't so ba—
"There he is, our star!" rings out a voice from behind, startling them both. A beaming man strides into view, introducing himself as the stylist. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Fullbuster. Unfortunate that Mr. Leo could not make it. Apparently he was injured on a mission?"
Lucy sighs with fond exasperation. "I told the idiot to take it easy but of course he had to show off. Nothing major, he'll be healed in a day or two."
"Ah, good good. Lucky we have Fairy Tail's second most eligible bachelor to fill in, eh?"
When she snickers not-so-quietly, Gray digs his elbow into her side. The fact that he wins by default, given that Loke is no longer single, is a sore victory.
The stylist continues, cheerfully oblivious, "Of course we've updated the wardrobe to suit Mr. Fullbuster's, ah, reputation."
Gray immediately knows where this is going. "Can't I just wear one of Loke's suits or something?"
"A suit! Why, that would clash utterly with your brand image."
"I don't—"
"We were thinking of something like this." The stylist flips to a page in his lookbook. It's filled with male models in various states of undress, striking the kind of poses designed to incite nosebleeds. "Nothing too risqué."
"Looks pretty damn risqué to me!"
"But... it's essentially what you're wearing right now."
Gray yanks his pants back on with a curse. Ten years to get used to this habit and it still freaks him out. It's weird to think about modesty when he's known for a lack of it, but he's never really been comfortable with showing skin. Especially not in a magazine read by millions of people! But if he says as much, these vultures will spin a headline out of it:
THE STRIPPER WITH THE SENSITIVE SIDE — more on pg. 4!
He's trying to work out an excuse that won't wring his masculinity out to dry, when Lucy clears her throat.
"Actually... a conservative approach might be better. After the Grand Magic Games, all of Fiore's seen him naked. The novelty's just worn off, you know?"
Gray pauses in the middle of searching for his shirt, oddly wounded; then déjà vu floods in. He'd said the same thing to her, after Cana told him to play hard to get (which apparently "worked like a charm" on Loke). Evidently Lucy had different notions of being charmed.
"I suppose nudity might come off a bit trite in Mr. Fullbuster's case..." admits the stylist, pulling him back to the present.
"Exactly, but a picture of him fully clothed—now that would generate buzz. What does Gray Fullbuster wear over his boxers? The public wants to know!"
This time, Lucy skips away before he can give her another poke for mining amusement out of his misery. Flicking through a rack of winter jackets nearby, she picks out one long and loose in a soft dove-grey. Suddenly, she's helping him into the sleeves and smoothing down the folds.
"See, there's a reference to his ice magic; the colour brings out his eyes; and of course..." she rests her chin on his shoulder and he's struck by the easy affection, "it matches his name."
It doesn't take much further convincing for the stylist to nod enthusiastically and putter off to tell the lighting crew to set up.
"Well?" Lucy grins, still leaning against him. "Did I save your honour?"
Without preamble, Gray turns to kiss her on the cheek.
"If this is another attempt at flirting, it's weaksauce," she blusters, blushing for the first time all morning.
Emboldened by this, he counters: "You know, for someone who drags my game so much, I heard no complaints on Galuna."
"Don't know what you're talking about."
"That time I said something halfway-cool and you were smitten."
"Pure fiction."
"Practically climbed into my lap."
"I see the delirium's kicked in," comes the muffled response.
Yep, definitely more than somewhat.
Omake:
The shoot goes perfectly. Well, aside from the stripping every five minutes. But it's Mira behind the camera—the only person that could drag Gray in front of it—and she's patient. Lucy watches, not knowing which of them she's prouder of.
When the golden hour passes, they wrap up.
As Gray is getting changed, Mira shows her the pictures. "I've narrowed it down to two options."
The first has him posed against the mountains of Hakobe, with the early morning sun glinting off the glacier below. His hands are in his pockets, shoulders slouched, gaze cool. She can never tell him how good-looking he is. No man should have that sort of power.
"And here's the second one," says Mira with suspicious glee, pulling out another photograph.
It's the same backdrop, same lighting, same posture. But his eyes are glancing off to the side—and several degrees warmer.
"I'll go with the first, you keep this one." Mira tucks the picture into Lucy's hands. "After all, he was looking at you."
Author's note: this went up on AO3 with manga panels, but FFN doesn't allow for embedding images. If you wanna see the Flirting Fails referenced, check out archiveofourown(dot)org(slash)works(slash)33185752.