Disclaimer : Fairy Tail belongs to Hiro mashima.

Part 1

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. She was going to skin him alive. Scratch that, she'll kill him then bring him back from the dead to kill him again. And once more to be absolutely sure. Shit.

He screwed his eyes shut, prayed to whatever spirit was around and opened them again. Nope. No change. They were still entangled in her bed. Half naked, and half was generous.

He racked his brain. What the hell happened? He remembered coming back from mission, and notifying grandpa. The guild had been crowded but no more than usual. They had laughed with their friends and he had even ruffled Gray's feathers. A good day all in all but a very typical one. So why couldn't he remember anything from then on? And what could possibly have happened? He never drank alcohol, there was no way he had been drunk. And if Lucy had been, he would not have taken advantage of her. Igneel had taught him better. This must be some kind of enchantment. Who was it? Whose magic could cause memory loss and uncharacteristic behaviour? Sleeping together wasn't such a rare occurrence but their state of undress was. She was going to be livid when she woke up and he was sure she'd blame him. She always did so especially when she was embarrassed. Oh, Maevis, who put the joke on them? He was going to bash someone badly when he found out. Someone will pay with a thrashing. This will not burn down peacefully.

She moved in her sleep and snuggled closer to him. All thoughts fled his mind. Her head nestled in the crook of his neck, her lips applied a wet pressure and a soft sleepy moan escaped her. He growled. He actually growled. Gods, this was going to be so much more difficult if he lost his self-control. She couldn't know about it, but she really wasn't helping.

He looked down at her. Most of her hair was fanned around her but several locks were falling in front of her face. He moved them aside, the tip of his finger grazing her forehead and he impulsively threaded his fingers in her hair, before letting it glide through them. It was soft and silky. His hand fell delicately on her bare shoulder and she shivered. He dared not breathe, lest she awoke and kick him out screaming murder while trying desperately to cover her nudity. He almost laughed out loud.

He followed the length of her arm with his eyes from his own chest up. Her right hand rested here limply, right above his heart, her fingers flat and unmoving. His gaze halted abruptly upon seeing her showed off bust, squashed against his side. Well now, she may be his best friend but he was still a boy of eighteen. He was not immune no matter how many times he saw her. True enough, Lucy wasn't exactly modest and she usually wore very tight, short and fitting clothes that didn't leave much to the imagination. Even if she hadn't, she always ended with her clothes shredded to bits and hanging by a thread after each battle. And that was without mentioning the few times she had stripped or wandered around completely naked. Still, he knew without a doubt she would be mad if she were to wake up right now. Something stirred inside him and tightened in his loins. This was not good news.

He tried to steer his thoughts away. So, back to the Guild, who was responsible? And what should he do now? Happy was nowhere in sight but this was actually a blessing. They wouldn't hear the end of it what with him already teasing them all the time. And it wasn't as if Lucy was very amenable to the idea. She had refused to kiss him after all. And it was just a kiss, damn it. This was far, far worse.

She was warm and fitted perfectly against his body. Her smell was strong and permeated the air around them. His heightened senses enabled him to discern the subtle differences. Their odours mingled pleasingly. She had her sleepy smell about her but there was a distinctive trace of a more musky scent and a very faint tang of sweat. What had they done exactly? It was hot. Why was it hot? He never felt hot. Feverish occasionally but never hot. Never. He yielded fire magic for crying out loud. He needed out, quickly. His eyes darted around but found no escape route. He was trapped.

She moved in her sleep making herself more comfortable against him. She threw her long leg above his hip and it found a secure place between his, her foot resting against his calf. He blushed. He dared not even consider anything under his chest. He would not even peek. Nope. He would not. She was his best friend. He thought of frigid December nights. It didn't work. He thought about Gray and tried to picture himself encased in his ice. Nope, no way Ice Princess would ever manage to get him. Still not working. He thought about every male in the guild, about Happy, about fishing, about training, he even strained his mind to picture Ichiya, anything to get his mind of the voluptuous body of Lucy against his own. And it worked. Somewhat. Until she began to rub against him. His scattered thoughts flew away through the window. His mind overloaded with sensations. He blushed harder and stifled a strangled groan. Help!

He desperately needed help. Anything. Anyone. Waking up half naked next to a beautiful girl should not be so awkward but this was Lucy. She sighed softly in happiness. She seemed perfectly content where she was but he knew the ugly truth and feared her reaction; she would be spitting mad.

Should he feign sleep? With his raging hard-on pressing against her belly, that would not work. She would never let him live it down. Or maybe she would? Out of sheer mortification? Gods, he was uncomfortable.

Should he wake her? That couldn't go well. No, it definitely wouldn't be a particularly bright idea.

Should he try to slip away unnoticed? He couldn't even see his clothes.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

Ravishing her when he hadn't even kissed her could not be smart. And yet, all thoughts crossing his mind involved them in compromising positions. He knew he liked her but shit, this was way, way worse. This had nothing to do with liking her, wooing her or dating her.

This couldn't continue, he was going to combust. He was raging a losing battle against instincts and self-control and he knew it. Why had Igneel never told him about this? He was not prepared for this turmoil. She hiked her leg up and he moaned, as much in distress as pleasure. An awful thought crossed his mind. What if she was awake and very much conscious of her actions? This struck such fear in him that before he could even reconsider, he was shaking her senseless, all other mental faculty burnt away in blazing panic.

A/N : Review, pretty please ?