For the first time since Lucy moved into her apartment and they became friends, Natsu used the stairs. It had been a close call, habit almost had him going for the window, but memory stopped him. What if he pushed aside the curtains and saw her spread out under someone else?

Then an irrational part of his mind spoke up and wished they were together again tonight. A good row would make him feel better for sure and it would feel good to punish Lucy that way. Would she hate him for kicking that guy's ass? He hoped so. He wanted her to be just as miserable as he was.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Natsu swallowed down his dark, malicious thoughts, wondering, is this what Lucy's pushed me to? But where was the shame? This is her fault. Don't feel bad for being pissed. She should be the one feeling guilty, not me.

Right.

Feeling righteous and determined, he pushed himself up the stairs. When he tottered, soberer after his encounter with Lisanna but still too drunk for his own good, he used the walls to correct his balance. His attempts to scale the stairs were loud in the late night, but no one opened their door to see what the ruckus was.

As he ascended, drawing ever nearer to Lucy's apartment and closer to her seductive scent—for even now it drifted down the hallway and wrapped around him like an enticing secret—he pulled his anger up like a shield, listing all the ways he hated Lucy Heartfilia. She was going to hear every single one of them.

At her door—at least, he was pretty sure it was hers—he thundered his fist against the wood, psyching himself up for a fight.

Seconds later, Lucy answered, clad only in a housecoat.

For a moment he could do nothing but stare at her. She was like a cold splash of water in his veins. She was beautiful and terrible and he had never ever before wanted to simultaneously kiss and scream at someone so much in his life. Standing there, he was almost swallowed by her scent, something dark and perfume-y and as intoxicating as ever.

Focus. Don't let her trick you. From somewhere he dredged up a sneer to keep himself from reveling in her presence, but it wasn't enough to completely ignore the way she drew him in with her fever pink cheeks, ruby bright lips and tangle of spun gold hair.

Lucy blinked up at him with surprised onyx eyes. Onyx. Yes, the tawny-tinged-honey was totally eaten now. "Natsu, what are you doing here?"

Though she had felt him enter her building, connected to him by some force she didn't understand, she could hardly believe it. After this morning, she thought that would be the last time they ever willingly saw each other. Now he stood at her door, face a dark mask of anger and hatred, eyes too bright to be rightly sober, skin too fevered, looking like a dark kind of salvation. He was so furious, so close to combusting, small tendrils of smoke rose from his skin. Fear and desire swirled in Lucy's blood to make her breath come faster.

Natsu gathered himself up to his full height so he towered over her menacingly and pushed himself into her room, slamming the door at his back. As soon as it was closed, blocking them off from the rest of the world, he wished it was open again. It was too late for that. He wouldn't be the one to open it; that felt like he was giving her a victory.

When it slammed, Lucy had been looking into Natsu's eyes, so he caught sight of the fear that flashed through her before her face smoothed. Good, he thought meanly, horribly, you should feel uncomfortable.

"You can't just force your way in here," Lucy protested.

Natsu ignored her. "You're an evil bitch." His voice was too loud to be considered appropriate, but he didn't bother to temper it. He needed the momentum to keep his head above the water, otherwise here, surrounded by all of her things, her and that mind-stealing smell, he'd be so lost.

Lucy's pale brows knitted together. "Well, that's sort of hurtful." Her words were brimming with sarcasm.

"And yet you know it's true," he sniped back. This is good. This is better than kissing her. You don't ever need to kiss her. The lies he told himself to keep his head straight.

Lucy sighed and wished she could change several things that had happened over the last few days. Maybe if she could, Natsu wouldn't be so hurt and furious now. At least he didn't see who it was, she thought thankfully. That would certainly be the tipping point. "Natsu," she tried again, "Why are you here? I thought—"

"I'm giving you the same treatment you gave me," he ground out, cutting her off. "Showing up at my house uninvited, messing with my head." He pushed her none too gently further into her apartment. Touching her was like putting his hand in too-hot oil, searing and painful, but all the same, once he pulled away he wished he was touching her again. It was perverse and it was unfair. What did I ever do to deserve this? It must have been something god awful. "You used me," he finished, words slurring.

Instead of denying him, she noted mildly, "You're drunk." The prospect didn't put her off as much as it likely should have. Natsu's decay into discord had her—sickeningly—frothing at the mouth. A drunk Natsu was a dangerous and unpredictable Natsu, two things she had come to enjoy. It made her skin heat excitably, stamping out sprigs of compassion before they could ever really start to grow.

Her scent started changing; his head started emptying. Remember. He wished he could make her feel like he did for just a moment; used, frustrated, unable to think clearly, then wondered if he had that kind of power over her, if maybe he could do to her what she had done to him and then just walk away. You're just trying to think of an excuse to touch her, he thought. It was a poorly disguised attempt to trick himself into thinking it was okay. He shook his head adamantly.

"Something wrong?" Lucy asked, not like she truly cared if he was suffering, but like she wanted to find a way to make him even more miserable. Like it made her feel better.

Natsu ground his teeth together. "What did you do to me? Why can't I get you out of my head?" Even now he was leaning into her, taking in her piquant, toxic scent. She was a demon, he thought bitterly, a sweet, haunting demon.

"Maybe you can't get me out because you don't want me gone," she couldn't help but utter. Her tone belied her intent, coming out like a desperate plea; he was something she had wanted for a very long time and it had hurt to turn him away last night. It was for his own good, she reminded herself, but no such benevolent fact offered solace to her. She wanted to draw him in and tear him down, find out what was inside.

Natsu couldn't deny her words, but he didn't have to admit it, either. He clenched his teeth together to keep from agreeing.

Lucy saw the hesitation in his eyes, the uncertainty, and latched on to that, convincing herself that it was okay, he was here because he wanted his ruination and she shouldn't feel bad for that. And yet, her greedy heart didn't think that was good enough. She needed affirmation. "Why did you really come here, Natsu?"

He stammered. "Because—"

She looked at him expectantly, eyes punching through his skin.

"Because I wanted to fight," he gasped out finally, grasping onto his anger frantically before it could slide away. It was a downwards spiral. You shouldn't have come here, he scolded himself, seeing his error in too bright light. Why did you come here? Turning, he eyed the door, wondering if it wasn't too late to get out.

"Natsu..." Her fingers flitted nervously at her side, itching to touch him. "I think you're lying to me."

He turned back, unable to look away for long. "I suppose you would know, you're the queen of liars, right?" Stay mad. You're here for one purpose, he thought. His head was fuzzy with Lucy and murky with alcohol; it made thinking very difficult.

"I suspect that's who I am now," she agreed and thought, if that's so, if you already know you're bad, then why try to be good? Just take what he's so obviously proposing but too stubborn to offer. If he wants to throw himself at your feet…

The urge took her to reach up and thread her fingers through his bright locks; she didn't stop herself, coming in nice and close, close enough she could smell his breath, overladen as it was with liquor, smell his skin, wood smoke and the remnants of whatever soap he'd used the night before.

It took a lot of effort to shrug off her hands. Somehow he managed. "Don't."

Lucy looked hurt. Then she squared her shoulders and the hurt was gone and a dark monster took its place. "You're the one here in my apartment." Her fingers fussed at her housecoat, pulling it wide enough to expose the tops of her breasts, like the material was too confining. "Stop pretending you only came here to fight."

Natsu would have buckled right there and then—her words hit solidly enough— then he noticed Lucy had a distant and vague smile on her mouth. Fury replaced his wild need for a moment. A moment was all it took to centre himself again long enough to choke out, "You're enjoying this."

"I guess," she said. The truth earned her a blood-quickening growl.

Natsu came forward in quick, agitated steps and herded her further into the room. "What did I ever do to you to deserve this, huh? I liked you, Lucy." Stop talking, stop coming further into her apartment, you're only making things worse. But he couldn't stop himself, it was as if she were dragging him into her with every word.

"You still do," Lucy said, half playing. "Besides," she continued, sobering, "it's not like I meant for any of this to happen."

"So it was just a mistake, then?" He was possibly even more furious.

"I knew what I wanted when I asked you to stay," she said carefully.

Natsu's right fist caught flame. Her admission didn't make him feel better as he hoped it would. In fact, it only served to cloud his mind more. She's lying, she was just messing around and you just happened to be in the right place at the wrong time. "You lie. I don't know what kind of game you're playing—"

Lucy edged closer to the volatile dragon slayer, his wrath making her skin prickle with hectic excitement. "You want to know why I think you're here, Natsu?"

He didn't. Turn away, don't listen to her.

Before he could do either of those things, Lucy said, "I think you're here because you want to hear me say I want you again." She knew she was quite literally playing with fire but couldn't stop herself. He was so intense it hurt. Inside her body, small tendrils of magic were reacting towards his fury, making her brave and stupid and hot.

Natsu got quiet, struggling with his thoughts. She was right, cuttingly, horribly right. When he spoke, his voice was low and gravelly. "Do you?" As soon as the words were out he wished he could haul them back in. He didn't want to know, and yet, he never wanted to know anything so badly in his life.

So much. Lucy bit her lip until it hurt to keep herself quiet. There will be nothing decent left in him once you're through, she thought with a random streak of compassion. Instead of answering, she made herself say, "I don't know if I think you should be here."

Natsu growled and drew in close so he was nose to nose with her. She smelled like headiness, he smelled like rage and alcohol. He wasn't at all happy with her answer. "Stop playing games with me, Lucy."

"I'm not trying to." She breathed too heavily from her nose. He was worming his way under her skin. Her resistance was turning to ash, weak and powdery; the slightest breeze would brush it all away. She pulled at the neck of her housecoat, dragging it down a little further.

Natsu couldn't stop looking at all that exposed skin. He licked his lips nervously. "Stop." He didn't want her to stop. Maybe she can keep going and you can make her hurt like you do.

"Do you hate me?" Lucy whispered. She asked it reverently, as if she hoped very much the answer was yes.

"More than I've ever hated anyone." Make her hurt. His hand snaked out without his permission and grabbed her roughly by the waist. On contact, the flames he'd been nursing extinguished. He pulled her in tight enough and abrupt enough that Lucy squeaked.

What are you doing? What are you doing? What are you doing?

Touching her was a bad idea.

To sooth himself—to fool himself—he thought, I'm proving a point. Again and again he chanted stubbornly that he just wanted the opportunity to do to her what she had done to him, mix her up and leave her high and dry. Maybe afterwards, he'd find someone else to fuck, drag them to her front door and…

And…

And nothing.

You won't do it. But he was furious enough to think about doing it.

Lucy's skin was far too hot to be comfortable. The more Natsu struggled, the more excited she became, and now, with his arms wrapped around her middle, it was an easy thing to convince herself that he wanted her to touch him. Her fingers brushed his cheek and he let out a small, pained sigh. It brushed against her hand and she was for a moment truly sorry she had hurt him, and sorrier still that she was likely going to do so again.

Leaning in, she pressed her cheek against his, taking in his smoky scent. The darkness inside her lifted its head and prodded at her skin excitably. She wanted to let it loose so bad that it hurt. He's your best friend, are you so willing to kill him for just a moment of release? You can still stop this. You're not

A slave.

That uncontrolled power was climbing through her and she didn't know how much longer she could hold it off for, especially if he kept touching her.

If it escapes and kills him, can you lie about his death to the police, too? The thought made her sick with excitement and fear. She let out a low moan, caught somewhere between exultation and dismay.

Hearing that, Natsu's whole body tightened. Touching her had been the crowning mistake on top of a long, colourful list of mistakes, because now that his hands were on her he couldn't take them off, and when she moaned... Gods. He fisted his hand in the fabric of her housecoat, feeling the uppermost curve of her behind.

"Natsu…" she breathed his name achingly soft.

Natsu's body hardened painfully. "I do want this," he affirmed, though it cost him something to admit it. His hand dropped lower on its own accord and squeezed her giving flesh.

A sigh slipped out, shaking and excited. He was so hard, she could feel his body digging into her hip like a promise of what she could have if she just opened her mouth and said the right words. The knowledge made her chest tight with wild, corrupted want. She imagined locking her fingers in his hair and kissing him, rage and all. "I want you, too," she said in a breathy voice and knew it was the right thing to say.

Natsu dropped his lips to her neck and whispered, "Don't fuck with me," against her flesh.

Lucy's body broke out in goose bumps. She pulled herself from that desire-induced fog long enough to lean back and catch his dark eyes with hers.

"If…" Gods. What am I saying? Shut up, shut up, shut up and leave. He couldn't. "If I do this …" He let go of her behind and brought his hand around to her front where his fingers slid down the open V of her housecoat. Lucy quivered and arched into him. "I don't want to stop. I don't want you brushing me aside," he squeezed her breast until it hurt, until she gasped and grabbed his bicep between her fingers, "just so you can ask someone else to finish you off." He swallowed the anger that rose with that thought. It tasted bitter all the way down.

Not to stop. She felt magic like a sea of black waste inside, fighting to get out. If she was with Natsu, could she keep it together and not roll him under a tide of death? She didn't know. Before she could think of a logical response, Natsu's hand slipped distractingly underneath her housecoat and rubbed her already hard nipple. Lucy caught her breath.

"Well?" He pinched. For the first time in days he felt like he was in control, her face was slacked, her mouth was parted, her skin was flushed with excitement. It felt like a victory, a small, twisted victory that let him continue.

"I…" Lucy knew she should say no and push him away. His other hand pushed the bottom fold of her housecoat aside and gently petted between her legs, barely brushing over her body. Her muscles contracted almost painfully.

"It's an easy answer, Lucy," he breathed and rubbed faster, harder.

She panted and moaned, unable to hold it in. with his hands on her like that she was the wickedest kind of girl. "Yes."

"Yes?" He worked his fingers quicker over her body, slipping between her folds. Her skin was suddenly warm. "Say it."

"Yes—I promise not to stop!" she gasped. It was too late now anyway, she couldn't have turned him away if she tried.

A/N:

Guest who commented as Anon: I can't open those links you gave me, FanFiction blocks them. Maybe try splitting the url so they come through?

Also, all, my book is released! Find it on Amazon: The Abolition of Caden Hail by Kaitlin Corvus if you're interested or know anyone that might be :)