Lagniappe

. .

For the longest while as he stared up at the ceiling, he didn't know where he was, who he was, what he was doing, or what he was even thinking. He lied halfway under a pillow with his arms sprawled out beside him, and his body tangled in the sheets. He was comfortable, he knew that much, and the open space where his right arm laid was warm.

He registered a sweet scent as his mind and body finally caught up to his woken state. A scent that surrounded him from head to toe. It was everywhere, in everything. It was in the sheets he was settled in, the pillow that covered him, and he could even taste it on his tongue.

He turned his head into the pillow, inhaling and briefly closing his eyes, and only one name came to his mind. Snippets of the events from the previous night came back to him in pieces as he sat himself up on his elbows, blinking and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and staring at the form of his body under the thin sheet as he fully woke up. He lifted it, confirming his suspicion and finding himself as bare and exposed as the day he was born. He licked and nibbled at his chapped lips.

And then he remembered it all. The smell of her, the taste of her, the sound, and the feel . . . he still felt the echo of it in his core. He remembered them drinking a bit with their friends, and probably eating more than their fill. They all had gotten carried away with their celebration as they always did, but that was what made it the best.

The memory of her fingers unbuttoning and slipping under his top as he piggybacked her home still was enough to catch his breath and swallow. Her lips on his jaw, behind his ear, her breath on his neck— it had more of an effect on him than any alcohol could.

He sighed, leaning his face into his palm. His body was heating up just at the thought of her.

The bathroom door opened and soft footsteps against the wood floors filled the silent room as he sensed her coming around the corner. He eyed the room entrance and watched her form step into his line of view. He bit his lip again.

Brown eyes brightened and he heard her heartbeat quicken just the slightest. It fluttered in his ears. "Natsu," She breathed his name, and he felt his chest swell. She stood in the doorway just in a pair of lace panties, the rest of her skin bare and exposed. Slender arms crossed over her chest, but he was looking at her eyes. The way her cheeks looked slightly flushed, how her moistened and swollen lips parted, and how her teeth worried her bottom lip. He watched her take slow, shy steps to the bed until she was right in front of him.

She crawled up on her side of the bed, one knee at a time, arms still holding her breast from view. Red blotches and blemishes trailed up her inner thighs, her abdomen, her chest, and up the side of her neck. Her milky skin glowed in the light that poured in through the curtains and dowsed her, and Natsu didn't even think about looking away. Her blonde hair draped around her shoulders, and his eyes trailed up her legs, her waist, her arms, until he saw those brown eyes looking at him with such strong emotions, he felt the weight of it against him.

Lucy was saying something, and he sat up, his hand finding the curve of her hip while the other slipped to her cheek. Whatever she was saying died out on her tongue, her worried eyes looking up and meeting with his. He didn't move any further for a long moment, still wrapped up with taking the sight of her in, and she took the opportunity to run her hands up his abs and cup her palms on either side of his chest, and he felt his gut suck in at the touch. She leaned up, half lidded eyes and long lashes filling his view as she closed the air space between their lips, planting a light kiss on his mouth.

He felt himself being pushed back into a lying position, a sigh leaving his nose as his back hit the bed and she crawled up over him, leaving the thin sheet the only barrier between them and to be honest, it drove him nuts.

She pressed herself flush into him and he felt every curve and soft movement of her body. One of her legs moved to rest between his thighs while the other rested on his hip, pressing her southern region into his. He felt the friction and grumbled against her lips, his hands moving under the small fabric covering her bottom and squeezing the plump flesh. She jerked against him.

There were three things he made easy note of right then.

His heart was pounding; she looked beautiful; and he absolutely loved it.

a/n: short. as i wanted it to be. hope it made sense because i spent ten minutes getting it out of my system.