Note:

Thoughts in italics

I do not condone or encourage any behaviors in this story. It is simply a fictional story.

Author's Note:

This transcends sanity instantly. The author is relocating to deep space.


[Third Person POV]

.

"If I'm a strawberry-brained knucklehead," Natsu's chin rose to the heavens. "You're a blueberry-brained picklehead."

Sure, she might have earned that one, but she was sick of that joke. She raised her lips as she focused on his fingernails. "Cut it out, dude."

Cana's roar was the only thing that saved them from themselves. They both turned to see her bag swung over her shoulder, asking to follow her towards the class.


.

An innocent Natsu was reading the newspaper with dazed eyes. Or was he?

Actually, Salamander was not in fact skimming through the newspaper (no ordinary man could manage such a stunt), but trying desperately to cover Jenny's head with it. Suddenly, rain started falling on the balcony, and it dripped onto his dick and Jenny's lips on his dick. "Crap. Make it fast, honeycomb. "This stupid rain is gonna ruin the fun."

The rest of Jenny was carefully concealed beneath the fawn-coloured woollen comforter so that Sting Eucliffe, engaged in this conversation with his wife, Yukino (on the topic of why she should stop buying the cheapest seasonings since Sting is definitely sure they earn more than that), wouldn't find anything suspicious.

"Hmnn. Jenny." He said, "Come here, baby." Natsu groaned and moaned.

"Shh." The taller woman snorted. "That's risky. My dragon."

The said man cursed under his breath. "Why the fuck are they still there?" He mumbled to no one in particular, flashing a fake smile at the couple on the parapet opposite their house.

"It's not their fault." Jenny looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, her saccharine voice sending sensual vibrations to his cock. "It's ours."

That didn't help Natsu at all. "I'm just about to come, and this shitty rain is ruining it."

"Be patient. We can go inside once Sting and Yukino get out of there."

Right about now, Sting tossed a funny look at Natsu.

"Natsu-san, why don't you get inside?" There was only a slight drizzle, but it was still enough to seep into the wool. "Why are you out there in the rain?"

Yeah, why don't you get lost? I wouldn't want us to do sixty-nine in front of you. Natsu thought, a vein blooming on his forehead. He needs his voice back.

Jenny rolled her eyes and continued with her ministrations. Her husband had the muscles on his face tightening and his hand crumpling the edges of the newspaper. "Wiafu." He grunted, breathless.

What was he going to say to the blonde? He'd been out here far too long to tell him that he was just about to get inside. Or maybe he could say, "No, Sting, I thought the newspaper was waterproof." Or, "My leg is injured." Or, "It's a pleasure to read in the rain." Now that he thinks about it, this whole idea was stupid. Jenny's skilled lips had taken away his sanity for a while, and these are the side effects.

.

.

Natsu awoke disoriented. He felt refreshed, but not in a good way. If anything, it's like his head had been put in a washing machine and got washed out with bleach. Wierd dreams. One minute he was on the balcony, getting a blow job from Jenny Realight, the wonderful supermodel and sweet-sexy-heart of Fiore, whom he had supposedly thought of as his wife. And the next second, he is far from the feeling in the alchemy class—a strip of drool thinning out as he stuck his head up from a desk. As he scratched his head, he found a piece of chalk nestled in the pink spikes. Sneaking a look, he was met with the professor's laser glare. He touched the top of his right chest just to make sure there were no holes. "Good morning, Mr August."

"It's afternoon." Looming over him like a grim reaper, the huge man rounded his table. His expression is rigid, his lips pinched. Golden markings running from his forehead to his arms contrasted majestically against his darker complexion. "Answer the question!" And that mighty baritone scared the living daylights out of Natsu. "What is the composition of the substance formed when purple-suns come in contact with Etherion?" That was an instant death to his erection.

"Huh." Natsu yawned. "Purple turns pink? Pink is nicer." It had been a nice, hot dream. Too bad it had to end before he came.

"Natsu Dragneel." He grimaced and directed his attention to the class. "Etherion is not your wallpaper. It's also not your hair dye."

"Yeah, sir. My hair's quite natural, by the way." Good thing he didn't come; that would've let everyone know the explicit contents of his dreams.

"If I see you dozing off in the class again, I'll turn you into a salmon and make some smoked salmon sushi for today's dinner." The reminder of a balcony prickled in the back of his head. He shoved it out of his head for the time being. He had critical things to prioritise, like not turning into a fish and getting eaten by his classmates under his professor's spell.

"Hahaha. Haha. Ha. Very funny." He forced out a laugh, pale-faced. No thank you.

Natsu gulped. That would be ridiculous; he wasn't about to make a fool—rather, food—out of himself. This man was not being fair; this is against humanity! "Take your bag and get out." So he was dismissed from today's last class.

Natsu stood up from his seat before August grilled him further. He skidded to the door and out into the corridors. The walk to the washroom was like a walk in the park. But as he came face to face with the door of the washroom, it exploded open. And someone came crashing in on him. The angry-looking blonde jeered—more like barked in pain—"What the ever-loving fuck?"

The experience was like getting hit by a truck. The headbutt had his brain feeling heavy like rice sacks. Shit. He came here to get his face washed, not smashed. "I should be the one saying that. Is your head made of rocks or something?"

"What d'you say, shithead?" The guy snarled, dragging Natsu up by the collar of his shirt.

Does he not know how to say sorry? Rude bastard. "I said that you almost split my brains with your rock-hard head."

"I'll make sure it's split next time." Natsu didn't want to get angry in front of an emotionally immature idiot unlike himself. He wasn't that guy who loses his cool easily. He's constantly hot. There's no way he'll lose something he doesn't have. But this is so stupid, it's frustrating. "You need some free smoothies."

Wait. What? Did Natsu permanently damage his brain? He hopes not. He carries a heavy bag to class every Saturday, full of stuff. No, Natsu is not into drug dealing. He's a poor thing, although he likes to think otherwise. Stuff means books.

Books. He reads and reads until he feels like his brain is going mush and he's about to pass out: Exclusive Sorcerer Weekly editions that are only available in Central Crocus's bookstores, books filled with spicy anecdotes of dragon queens in bikinis riding unicorns. Alright, that unicorn is an exaggeration. And shouldn't dragon queens be riding dragons? (Natsu's eyes gleamed at this observation. Fire Dragon. Hahahaha Haaahahahahahaha. He could not contain his evil laughs.) Furthermore, there has been a new addition of interactive narrative and roleplays where he basks as the glorious Harem king, revels on the throne, and—ahem! Whoop. "That's Laxus Dreyar for you."

So guess what? Today is a Saturday, and his bag is filled to the brim with books. So when the bloody blonde's apple smoothie drenches his bag alive, he feels the instant need to scream and slap the asshole across his face. And he did exactly that. If birds hadn't flocked away from the birch trees near the windows when the door exploded, they certainly have now.

The bitch, Laxus, must've been taken aback by this insane behaviour. He took an abrupt step back, flabbergasted.

Natsu used this precious time to save himself from imminent death. He used his fire to rocket away from the dangerous energy around him. He had never messed with a Dreyar. That can wait. He must use his brains to preserve his brawn for tonight's date.


.

"Now, it's going to stink for real." Outside the hole, the boughs lurched, shadowing her once and again. She held a hand over her eyes against the sunlight from the circular opening high above, from which an apple fell. Juvia climbed down the ladder of the manhole with careful steps. "If this is going where it should go, Natsu's dead meat."

Natsu snickered blithely. "Just don't be a baby and do it."

"Why you!" There was this fragrant smell coming from behind the dorms. It was ambrosial. So when they found a manhole near the spot where they were playing truth or dare, Cana was excited. Juvia didn't know why. She has never played "truth or dare" in her entire life. Natsu, the ever-cunning idiot, challenged Juvia to get inside the cylindrical space to inspect it. The idea was less ambrosial than the smell.

As she sank into the room, it sank into her head that the manhole was not going where it was supposed to be going. She convulsed when her elbow struck something metallic. If only Natsu could light up some fire in this darkness. But no, Juvia couldn't trust his common sense enough to not get paranoid about him baking her inside the cramped space.

Her feet made contact with a smooth surface, and she booted over the surface to check the material.

"Wood." Juvia muttered, moving her feet and feeling the surface beneath them without touching her bare skin. "Nashu. Juvia can't see anything. Will you come down from there?"

She listened, his tone lowering into a whispered taunt. "Peed your pants or something?" Fuck you, Natsu.

"I. Did. Not." She emphasised the not. "I bet you would, in my shoes."

"Juvi-chan is a crybooby," she quipped in a feminine voice, unnecessarily.

"Hey. Not funny." Playing with her hair, Juvia spoke shakily. "And I won't tolerate your perverted PDA, Cana!"

Screw it! She doesn't need any help. Juvia took another step down, lost in her thoughts, and she slipped. Good thing she lowered her face. She may have a lump on her forehead, courtesy of her own denseness for going along with this, but at least she is not disfigured. Why should a manhole be here of all places, anyway? Her head had hit something hard, and Juvia did not feel her consciousness drifting away. Phew.

Meanwhile, outside the manhole, Cana and Natsu were engaged in a very serious debate. "I don't see any reason why we needn't spend 100 jewels on a meal."

"No thanks." Cana shrugged. "I'd like to finish our projects within the allotted budget."

"I'm going to use the jewel for my date tonight." He rubbed his chin, maintaining minimal eye contact. "We've got 900 jewels left!" He pointed out.

"So what? We got the cash exclusively for the project. You can't even pay for dinner." She thrust a palm to her forehead. "Poor Juvia." That brings me to the question: just why did she agree to go on a date with him?

"Don't be jealous. It'll be her best night because someone here actually knows how to bring money. I wrote the letter, and I got it for us because Juvia was planning to be a cheapskate."

"Anyone could write a letter." Firming her jaw, the brunette did not give up. "She was being smart. We've pulled it off before."

"No probs, then she can still pull it off now, under 900 jewels!" Natsu's grip on her shoulders tightened, but it did nothing to stir her.

"We're using the project budget for the project."

"I hate you. I'll ask Juvia," he declared.

Cana stuck her tongue out at him as she remembered where Juvia was. "Juves, get back here!" No response.

"Juice, get here!" No reply. "I don't think what you're doing is even legal." It doesn't matter that Natsu suggested it. He exchanged a glance with Cana. The bluenette must be steaming out of any dark hellhole at Natsu's name-calling. What is she doing in there so engrossed?

He bent down, his hands falling to his knees. As Natsu peered into the hole, his butt experienced a burning sensation. Red-faced, he connected the dots sharpish, concluding that he just got slammed inside by the brunette kicking his behind. "ARE YOU MAD, WOMAN?"

"You looked so curious." She hummed. "Thought I could help you get in." He fell, but before he did, his hands had gripped her ankle and managed to pull Cana with him. He dodged the clipboard in her hand from hitting his head and knocking him out cold. Yet the air left his poor lungs in an instant when the brunette landed comically on top of him.

Cana cussed. "This is no manhole." They had indeed fallen into a dimly lit room, a basement.

Around them, candles and candelabras were arranged on small tables, and coloured glass adorned the windowless walls. Pearl strings hung from the low ceiling, tassles blooming at the end. Natsu coughed when he got his voice back. "The stench was fake; probably an expired guarding spell."

"Listen here, you brute." He said, shoving her off him. "I'm gonna find Juvia, and I'm taking 500 jewels in the least. If you change your mind and plan to come along, I'll take care of your expenses and buy your tickets to the amusement park. And it's on me, okay?"

The room had at least four doors or so. He exited the room through the only open door in the room, obviously. He climbed up a short flight of stairs and entered a room.

"Some bad blood, beetle eyes, and dried alstroemerias." There she was, hopping down from a tall stool, poking about the stuff that lined the cupboards. I think I got it all. Why look for one when you are crafty enough? Curious about his surroundings, he sniffed a wooden drawer directly to his left, immediately blanching. Dragon-slaying senses were a curse and a blessing.

"Don't do that!" Cana was right behind him, chewing a bubble gum that she scrabbled out of her pocket not long ago. Cana crossed her arms and rubbed her palms over her jacket sleeves. He walked over to the desk and inspected the small bottles arranged upon it in circles. He couldn't figure out what was in it, but whatever it was, it sparkled. Glitter water?

"Emotion powder," Natsu grumbled.

Cana looked up at him in surprise, surprised that Natsu knew anything nerdy at all. Not crumbling under her scrutiny, he squinted back. "I once had the red one sprinkled in my food, and I was angry for a whole week." In the corner of his eye, Juvia bit the inside of her cheek. "Whoever gave it to me has never repeated the same mistake again."

Natsu tched, fire exploding from his right hand that was on tugging the lock over a drawer. The bluenette gulped, holding back her urge to say "careful" and wasting her breath. This is reckless. If something happens, all three of them will be in trouble together. For all that, she stares in awe as the iron melts through his knuckles. He drew the drawer open easily.

By that time, Cana had gotten bored and left the room to explore the adjoining one.

"Juvia, can you explain to me why you're collecting ingredients for Love Potion?" Juvia's head snaps up in horror. Natsu knew how to give people a shocker.

"Is it for me?" Suddenly, the room fell silent. He hopped down from the table gracefully, as though he were a cloud of floating fog. He wasn't lightweight at all if you considered his height and stocky build.

"N-no. "They're for experimental purposes." She said it as soon as she got her voice back.

"Do you need a test subject?" "Uhh." She gave his suggestion some thought, giving him a quizzical smile. She'd like that.

"I'm not crazy enough to experiment on you." Be that as it may, this is the love portion we're talking about. The girl didn't wish to acknowledge her gut feeling that "test subjects" may end up in unpleasant ways.

"Meh. Juvia cares for mwe?" Weirdly cheerful, Natsu scrunched his nose. His spread fingers were glued over his face, pretending to faint.

"Remind me again why Natsu won the Worst Acting award at last year's Crocus-Cross." Crocus-Cross was a drama event conducted annually in Crocus. It's sort of a drama competition, but with a showy parade of sorcery from witches and warlocks across the country.

He retorted quickly, regaining his smirk. "Want a bite?"

"Mhm?" She blinked. "No, I ate already." Pouting slightly, she scratched the back of her neck. The dust in this room had irritated her skin a bit.

He shook his head as he elaborated for her. "Oh, that's a bummer." He feigned disappointment. "Be mindful of your bum next time. Someone else would've seen Bite This Booty written on it."

"Wh-what!" Juvia narrowed her eyes, swallowing excessively.

"Well." His predatory canines glistened in the candlelight, a broad grin stretching across his face. "While you were squatting on that stool, your skirt got hiked up and flashed your cheekless pants."

"Well, whatever's written on my butt is none of your business." If he thinks he can mess with her, then, oh boy, he doesn't know her. "I don't care if Natsu-san's going to broadcast this to everyone."

"Oh no, I wouldn't want that. Not when we have a date today. Who knows if you'll end up being my girlfriend? I want you for myself."

She flushed. "That's so cheesy."

"Fine. Fine." As he scooted closer, she noticed the flare of his hair in the fire. His locks made her think of faraway coral reefs. When his eyes bore into hers, she could feel his heavy breath on her forehead. "Even so, I'll have the lion's share of your love." She liked the feel of his calloused thumb on her bottom lip. "And you can have mine."

"I like it." But stop it. "But we're not even dating yet."

"We will be." That was about the time Natsu started humming. "I see the missing pieces I'm searching for. I think I've found my way home." Waving a hand behind his head, he pivoted on his heels. Before Juvia knew it, it had turned into full-blown singing. Her lips parted, speechless. "I knew I loved you before I met you. I think I've dreamed you into life.

"That's CHEESIER!" She folded her arms and stuttered. "Care to be less unpredictable next time?" Oddly, however, there was no argument that Natsu had a clear, husky voice. Although funny in the context, she'd never heard him so stern, deep, and precise. Who knew that Natsu Noisy Dragneel had the ability to sound like that?

He licked his lips. "Where's the fun in that?"


.

The windows were closed and the curtains shut. The warm glow in the room went well with vibing to the slow beats from the TV, where two people wandered about the city, a straw hooked in the lips, sipping up apple juice. Gray pressed onto the pillows, balancing a popcorn bow in one hand, making himself comfortable as Lucy settled on the other side of the sofa. This reality show wasn't supposed to be named Talking Tapes; "Stalking Tape suits it better."

"The levels of hypocrisy." Lucy's voice was muffled by the ramen she had slurped. Fairy lights decorated her hall, just the way she liked and just the way Gray found annoying. He thought they were too many and looked like fireflies. There's no argument about fireflies being beautiful. Nevertheless, too many fireflies at night can be detrimental to your beauty sleep.

"I don't stalk." The man pulled a headband over his head to hold his messy mane back. "This show's shitty."

She scoffed louder than the man on the TV and drawled. "You enjoyed this show last time. Get some positive vibes."

"Can't you accept criticism?"

"I'm not accepting sh*t from you." Lucy is actually nice—not always, though. "And stop freezing my room already. The heater is broken."

"Just like you." He so badly wanted to rip his T-shirt off his tanned skin.

Lucy bared her teeth but maintained her calm. "Wanna get out of my room?"

"No." Honesty is virtue.

.


Author's Note:

I'm about to go out like a light. I did not exactly rrread this. If any mistakes are spotted, justtellmee.