Chapter Text
Fairy Tail, a powerful guild of mystery and immense magic, is notorious for its destructiveness; on the inside, Fairy Tail was home and warm.
“Anyone want cake? I made strawberry cheesecake!” Mirajane sang behind the counter, her eyes curved along with a pretty smile. People were still getting used to her nice persona, always worried that she’d revert to being combative and angry.
“Me! Me!” Erza shouted; even weirder was how these two were now getting along. Mirajane gave her a slice. An undeniable drool of gluttony ran along her chin; the redhead sat on the island stool, eyes glistening and mouth to gorge on the dessert before her but first she had to sing praises to Mira for making such a beauty.
All thoughts were gone all too quickly, though, when Gray’s body crashed and buried her slice. He wasn’t even perturbed by the gross smush he felt, more so by the pain of the island rearranging his spine. Mira covered her mouth in slight surprise.
“You flame-brained moron! You stink, and so does your flying fish cat!” The hit he took dispelled quickly when his eyes happened on Natsu. Fixing him with a glare, ruining Erza’s cake hadn’t even registered yet.
“Stupid pervert, don’t insult Happy and me!! I’ll show you!! The pink-haired boy marched up quickly, fists alight and ready to strike.
“Did he just call me a stinky fish cat?” Happy, said in the background. “Do I really smell like fish, Gray?” Sniffing at himself, just the thought made his stomach grumble heavily.
“Happy! Take this seriously; you can’t like that droopy eyes called you fishy.” Natsu snapped, a grin on his face.
“M’Gonna kick your ass, Gray.” A contrast to his words and tone. He stepped onto the island (somehow) and stooped, fist still on fire and now in Gray’s face.
“You can try, but you can’t beat me.” They both tightened their bodies and raised their fists, no doubt about to scrap where they stood. Instead, they felt a chill run along their spines, and their heads creaked as they turned to face Erza.
“-landed on my precious cheesecake-" It was the mumbling of a maniac; that was when Gray smelt the food on his back. He grimaced; he didn’t even notice it as he screamed at Natsu earlier.
Couldn’t even defend himself; just from the look she bore, they knew what that meant.
My life ends here.
Natsu was the first to get it; he was pulled off the island top. He landed weirdly, trying not to be an utter ragdoll and knocking his knees instead. From Mirajane’s eyes, Natsu stared up at Erza and could see her fortified metal arm already pulled back before it swung down. Just before the collision, Mira turned her head away, not keen to see the mess they’d be in afterwards, but heard all the sounds of pain.
“We’re sorry, Erza.” They were kneeling on the ground, heads down. Erza was more pissed than ever. “That’s enough, Erza. I have another slice for you right here.” The lord and saviour, Mirajane, brandished an intact cheesecake slice on the table once more, her smile holding the same brilliance and a sliver of pity for the boys.
Couldn’t she have pulled that move before? Gray thought. It wouldn’t stop them from getting beaten but Erza would’ve desisted some time ago.
Seeing the cake, the re-quip mage turned from administering their punishment, and the two were relieved. Gray breathed a sigh and smiled, his eyes locked onto Natsu for a moment, who smiled back at him.
What was that idiot smiling at me for? Just for a small moment, they shared peace in being able to survive.
Gray turned his head away and muttered. “Hmph. Idiot.” He stood up and walked across the guild to the job board. “What’d you just say—” Gray drowned out Natsu’s response, pleased that the other was even giving a semblance of a response to him. He would never admit it, but Gray was a bit worried about the pyro. Lisanna’s recent passing caused Natsu to retreat into himself, no longer hot-headed, energetic or even eating, and Gray couldn’t speak to him as a friend. They weren’t friends.
It wasn’t the ice mage's place to speak about her death. Gray was never the nicest to Natsu, nor was he patient when Natsu first joined, and human customs were foreign. He wasn’t in Natsu’s world, in any of their worlds, and not as close with them as they were to each other. This, trying to cheer Natsu up with a fight, was the least he could do. While Lisanna’s death pained Gray as well as the rest of the guild, he knew that Natsu was in more pain; the two were best friends after all.
Gray didn’t even want to think about if they were more, as young as they are.
Gray shook off his thoughts and browsed the board; the fluttering sheets of parchment were clear with the light that spilt through the guild hall. Most of the listings were monster hunts, escort missions, and demolition work.
He was looking for something less flashy.
Herb Gathering. Rank: B
Gathering the listed medicinal herbs.
It was intriguing that just gathering herbs was ranked B. He guessed it was due to the additional note that was on the poster: 'Territorial magical beasts roam the area; instead of killing, please subdue and relocate.'
It seemed clean. The kind of job that didn’t need a team shouting over each other or setting things on fire. Just one mage and the elements of a forest.
He took the flyer and walked over to Mira, who was behind the bar, arranging glassware with grace. Erza was still sitting at the table; she glanced at the paper just as Mira did, then at Gray. At the same time, a frown marred her face – was it because of the cake that she looked like that? – while Mira gave a knowing smile. No words were needed—she could read the intent in his eyes. A solo job.
At his age, sixteen, and with confidence in his magical growth, it was bound to happen. Him taking jobs of this level all on his own. By midday, Gray was already deep in the forest, boots crunching over weeds. He’d collected numerous herbs already, but there was some that made him enter deeper. The air was cool, the trees tall and quiet. Tracks led him toward the edge of a ravine, where magical beasts—wolf-like, with crystalline fur—were tangled in a territorial dispute. They snarled and snapped, spittle flying at each other.
Beyond them he could spot an herb he needed, plentiful with green stalks and white flowers.
Gray didn’t rush. He crouched low, studied the beast's movements, and began shaping his magic with deliberate care. Ice spread across the ground in elegant arcs, forming barriers that guided the beasts apart without harm to them or the herbs. The animals that noticed him tried to charge, but Gray met them with walls of frost, redirecting their path.
It took time, but eventually, the creatures calmed. He coaxed them apart and away from his assignment, collecting enough as was specified by the job.
By sunset, the job was done. No injuries. No explosions. Just quiet success; it was just that it wasn’t quiet enough.
The ice mage let the remains of his magic dissipate; the wolves stirred slightly at the sounds it gave, but they were still calm and already dispersing quietly.
“Wow, you’re really formidable.”
Gray was startled; he didn’t hear any footsteps. A man – he noticed from the deep lilt of his voice, just far off, that his face was hidden by the trees. It was getting too dark to see, but Gray didn’t need to wait to see him; he stepped forward, smiling.
The ice mage blinked, apprehensive at first, and was caught off guard by his appearance. Tall and handsome, definitely older, but Gray didn’t know by how much. He scratched the back of his neck, suddenly aware of the dampness in his shirt (that he surprisingly hadn’t lost) and the scratches on his arms. “It’s just a herb-gathering job,” he muttered, his pale face coming alight and also apprehensive.
Who was this man? A villager?
The man tilted his head. “Maybe. But the way you handled the magic beasts and your magic, it was like art. I could see that you put a lot of effort into your craft.”
The man's eyes reflected the pale shimmer of Gray’s receding ice. He wasn’t armed. Just watching.
“Most people make ice to keep things out,” the stranger continued, maybe referring to how most creatures detest the cold, stepping closer. “You make it to hold things gently.”
Gray blinked, unsure what to say. Compliments weren’t rare in the guild, but they were usually loud, teasing, and half-drowned in chaos. This one was quiet. Intentional.
Gray muttered, brushing frost from his sleeve. “It’s nothing special.”
The man’s gaze lingered. “Then I must be seeing it wrong,” he said. “Because your ice was beautiful; even when it receded, it had this gentle shimmer to it.” Gray’s breath caught. He looked away, heat rising to his cheeks despite the chill of the forest.
“You’re… poetic for a guy in the woods,” he said, voice rougher than he meant.
The stranger smiled, soft and amused. “And you’re flustered for a guy who commands ice.”
Gray huffed, half a laugh escaping before he could stop it. He turned back to his work, letting the last of the frost fade into the earth.
“Thanks,” he said, almost too quietly to hear.
It wasn’t anything he thought he wanted to hear, but it undeniably made him feel good. Being surrounded by mages at every turn meant there was no shortage of talent, and it felt nice being appreciated, though it was from a stranger. If it were at the guild, Mira would smile at his figurines, and Natsu would grumble about how boring it must be to craft stuff. Laxus wouldn’t care, and Cana would be too taken with cards and trickery. It wasn’t something he would mind, usually, but this man made his magic feel… perfect.
“Why are you so deep in the woods?” Gray asked, curious enough with a slight feeling of wanting to talk more.
The man chortled, embarrassed – like. “I’m sorry; I might’ve come off as creepy, approaching a boy like you in the woods. No need to worry, though; I came to collect the herbs from you.” The ice mage tilted his head; this wasn’t the man he talked to before coming to the forest.
“I was the one who asked the village head to put out the job. Since it was getting dark, I came to check if you were alright.”
“I’m alright. Wouldn’t be a good look; if a mage couldn’t deal with these kinds of beasts.” Gray responded, accepting the explanation.
The man gestured to the rucksack slung across his shoulder; Gray nodded his head, as if to say he was all finished.
“I see, we must make our way back to the village so as to release you from your duty.” The man had not left yet, looking at him, perhaps waiting to see what the boy was doing. Gray looked at the now night sky; his mind switched to thinking of all the walking he would have to do. It was undoubtedly late. Gray looked at the man, and his mouth opened slightly; he… wanted to speak to him for a bit more.
“Umm, is there an inn nearby?”
“You are from the village, aren’t you?”
The man narrowed his eyes slightly. “Yeah, I am from the village, on the outskirts. And, well, you’re in luck; I happen to be a host of sorts. I charge the same as an inn would. Follow me.”
The man's eyes squinted into a smile, catching Gray off guard. The fifteen-year-old glanced away, shy. The older man nudged his head in a ‘Let’s go’ gesture before walking away. Hesitatingly, Gray took his first step, then another and another, falling in step quickly with the stranger.
As the stranger said, he lived on the outskirts of the village and was the closest to the forest. Gray thought about the distance that was between the wolves and his house previously; he wondered if the man wasn’t a bit uneasy, so close to danger.
Outside of his door, the man had turned to him, paused, and then asked, “Umm, where’s your shirt?” His tone was a contrast to his soft and poetic grace in the forest, the stripping habit making him incredulous. Gray blushed furiously, embarrassed that he had lost his shirt, and he turned about, hoping to see it.
“It’s… It’s a bad habit.”
The man blinked and then smiled. Somehow, the man’s reaction made Gray feel exposed. His eyes raked his body.
“A habit, you say.” A soft chuckle came from the man’s mouth along with those words. They stepped inside the house; Gray, still embarrassed, was led to his room. They exchanged the herbs and money (also for the room). When that was done, the man spoke to him.
“I’ll be preparing dinner; you can join me if you want.”
Gray responded with “Ok”, nodding and rushing off into his room. He leaned on the door and facepalmed. Reflecting on his stripping habit and its timing, he wouldn’t mind dying more now than ever.
Ridding himself of those thoughts, he placed his luggage on the neat bed. The room was quaint and had a small desk and chair. He found the bathroom next, remembering the man pointing it out in the hallway. It was equipped with toiletries and the like. Gray was quick to clean and adorn himself with clothes, remembering that the man would be waiting for him for dinner.
The inn was cosy and quiet. Gray had noticed earlier that there were no other guests. He returned to the living area he had passed by, searching for where the man would be. What he did was follow the wafted scent of the cooked meal (it sounded like a Natsu thing).
He entered the new room, taking in the meal on the table. It was small but hearty; Gray felt warm at the sight. It’s been a while since he last had a home-cooked meal. Gray sat down, clearing his throat.
The man saw his entry and smiled at him. “I thought I would have to come and find you.”
Gray didn’t grace that with an answer, aware of the teasing tone. Instead, he started a new conversation. “You run this place alone?”
The man responded, starting to eat since Gray arrived. “Mostly. It’s not much of a business since this village hardly gets visitors.”
Gray nodded; they talked a bit through bites, and dinner passed by gently. They talked about life in a guild, the different jobs they had to take and the type of people associated with one. Gray answered, finding the conversation easy. He didn’t notice how often he looked up just to meet the man’s eyes.
After dinner, they lingered at the table longer than either expected. The fire had burnt low, casting the lights softer on the walls and on the two’s features. Gray had relaxed into the quiet, the warmth of the room softening the edges of his usual reserve. The man leaned back in his chair, watching Gray with a look that he didn’t know how to place.
“You know,” he said, voice low, “usually, when I’m here by myself, the house is cold and empty, but you being here made it feel less so.”
Gray blinked. “Huh?”
The man smiled, not backing down. “I’ve seen a lot of mages pass through. Fire, wind, lightning. They all want to be loud. Flashy. But your magic… It’s different. It doesn’t demand attention. It invites it.”
Gray looked away, suddenly aware of how warm his ears felt. “You’re reading too much into it.”
“Maybe,” the man said. “Or maybe you’re just not used to being seen.”
Gray opened his mouth, then closed it again. He wasn’t sure what to say to that. He wasn’t sure he wanted to say anything at all. The man stood, gathering the dishes with a practised ease. “I’ll clean up. You should rest.”
Gray rose too, but lingered by the table. “Why don’t you invite more people around? You said it felt empty, and this place is like an inn.” The mage referred to his earlier words.
The man glanced over his shoulder. “I like the quiet, and I didn’t want anyone around, not tonight.” Gray was perplexed. Then why me? Why am I here?
The man’s back was still turned, but he continued to speak, as if he could read Gray’s thoughts in this darkness. “I saw you in the forest,” he said. “And somehow I couldn’t look away.”
Gray’s throat tightened. He shifted his weight, unsure what to do with his hands. The man turned then, eyes meeting Gray’s.
“I’m glad you stayed,” he said. “Even if it’s just for one night.”
Gray hesitated. He took a step forward.
“I might stay a little longer,” he said, voice low. “If that’s okay.”
The man’s smile was slow. “It’s more than okay.”
Gray looked down, then back up, heart thudding in his chest.
“I—” he started, but the words caught in his throat.
And then there was a pause, the kind that holds its breath before something shifts. Gray stepped closer; tentatively, he laid a soft kiss on the man's lips. Revelling in the soft feel and the pounding of his own heart, his first kiss, it felt –
He pulled back abruptly, eyes widening at what he’d done. Why did he even do such a thing? Before he could apologise – run – something, he was dragged back roughly. His mouth was taken in a way it had never been before. They barely pulled apart during it; Gray inexperienced and in need of breath, but the man took his mouth over and over again should it ever stray.
Gray was wanted; that was the only thought he had as his mind went hazy from the incessant kissing and then the touches he felt on his lower back, waist, hips and rear.
The man paused only slightly, squeezing the smaller body that was now in his arms, his big hands moving to splay between Grey’s thighs, grazing the underside of his clothed privates. He looked down at Gray, who wondered why his lips were bare, leaning up for more.
“Can I?” Gray felt all the intimate places the man’s hands were placed, using his fingers to encircle him through his pants. It was good, and Gray nodded; no need to think. The man’s eyes glinted, and he kissed Gray again, undoing his pants and dropping them to the floor. Gray let himself get swept up in the pace, relishing in this feeling of pleasure.
“You’re so pretty.”
“You’ll only be my boy, won’t you?”
“I can’t allow you to leave.”
“Gray.” The man’s face twisted and swam, a disgusting smile on his lips. Gray wondered when he told him his name.