Entitled: Tawdry Things
Fandom: Fairy Tail
Disclaimer: I don't own Fairy Tail and etc.
Notes: Collab between myself and Inulover4eva, who'll be writing the next part for you.
Summary: In her quest to find a place to spend the night, Lucy somehow finds herself in a love hotel with Loki. And he is not on his best behavior. — LucyLoki
Picture yourself in a boat on a river,
With tangerine trees and marmalade skies.
Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly,
A girl with kaleidoscope eyes.
Cellophane flowers of yellow and green,
Towering over your head.
Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes,
And she's gone.
—Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds, The Beatles
Her first thought was that somebody had died.
Gray and Natsu were slumped over one of the guild's tables, staring miserably into the drinks Kana kept pushing on them. Erza clanked over.
"What's wrong with you two?"
"Lucy's gone," Happy explained from deep inside his own, cat-sized tankard. On cue, Gray and Natsu sighed heavily. Erza was touched by this display of friendship.
"Where is she?"
"On a mission," Gray said bitterly. Erza suffered some momentarily alarm.
"It's an easy one, she'll be fine," Natsu said miserably. Erza suspected she saw a tear drop onto the countertop, but out of consideration to his dignity, didn't mention it.
"So why are you—"
"Who's going to feed us?!" Natsu wailed. Gray slumped over in agreement.
It turned out that there were a lot of things a person couldn't do until they turned eighteen.
Much to Loki's joy.
"I'm not sure I understand," the hotel clerk looked between the two of them slowly, "So...do you want a single bed?"
"He isn't staying."
"Make sure it's a large one, won't you?" Loki winked, and slid a discreet coin across the counter. The clerk looked affronted.
"But, look, I can't just let you go in there with someone underage—"
"But I'm an immortal!" Loki said indignantly, "Between the two of us that's...still infinite!"
He was momentarily distracted by his companion, as Lucy was making the most adorable faces at the other customers.
"I'm not sure if immortal beings make our age quota," the clerk fluttered. Loki leaned over the counter smarmily.
"I assure you, I'm very young and supple. And. Way over eighteen."
"You know," Lucy said suddenly, "It's fine. I'll have the twin beds. It's just, what, another twenty?"
"Muffincake!" Loki protested, and draped himself over her, "Don't worry. Just let your man handle it."
Lucy looked at the clerk imploringly, "I promise, he's not staying."
"But I can't just rent out to a minor—"
Lucy's eyes narrowed. The clerk shrugged.
"Madame," Loki felt he had been quiet for long enough, "May I just say that your eyes are like the birthing lands of deep-water stars?"
There was a second's pause, "Is that like the ovary of a sea-star, or something?" Lucy asked, before Loki could hush her.
"I'm a lesbian," the clerk said frankly. Loki wondered if the ladies were competing in some sort of awkward-statement contest.
"Sorry, he's a compulsive wooer."
"I see," Loki said coolly, and drew Lucy behind him. The clerk looked a little harassed.
"I didn't mean it as a proclamation of war, I meant it in the sense that no matter how much your flirt, bribe, or wink at me, it won't do you any good."
"Good for you," Lucy approved. Loki drew her away before she started getting ideas. Really, she was so impressionable.
"Great," Lucy ran a hand back through her hair and crack her back, "Now I'm homeless!"
Loki trotted faithfully after her, bags in tow. "Never fear, princess! I have just the place. I'm a regular customer."
Lucy turned on him with great, shining eyes. Loki managed to drop all the bags.
"Really?" she squeaked, and beamed, "Is it cheap?"
"Well, great!" she grinned at him again, "Where is it?"
"THIS IS WHERE HOOKERS GO!" Lucy screamed not five minutes later, and in the middle of a very crowded, very public street no less. Loki looked at her pleadingly. Adorable as these little outbursts were, they usually ended with him being arrested.
"It's very clean!"
"IT'S..." Lucy trailed off, and then punched his chest with the full force of her wrath. Loki remembered to wince a few seconds later. "I'M A CELEBRITY NOW!" Lucy roared, practically beating him over the head with a copy of the magazine she posed for, "I can't just...just wander around in places of ill-virtue!"
"Lucy," Loki clasped her hands earnestly, "I assure you, I have no interest in your virtue."
"That's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard in my life."
"What?!" Loki pressed a hand to his wounded heart, "Our wedding night shall be a union of purity and joy!"
The tree nearest Lucy promptly incinerated. Loki supposed this meant he'd said something wrong again.
"Right," she took a shaky breath, and passed a hand back through her hair, "Okay. No, it's fine. You're not staying anyways. I'll just lock the door. It'll be fine! Fine. Okay. Let's go."
Loki smiled angelically.
"Oh my god," Lucy stared at the heart-shaped bed, the mirrors on the ceiling, and the complimentary body oil in shock. "Oh my god. Oh my god. What if. Oh my god. It smells funny in here."
"It's the scent of anti-bacterial cleaning soap!" Loki assured her as he tossed the bags in the corner. Lucy sat down on the edge of the bed, wheezing.
"Okay, don't even try that with me, because I know what tanning lotion smells like and—WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
Loki paused on the third button. "Well. Undressing."
"WELL, STOP IT!" Lucy wailed, and threw her hands over her face. Loki sneakily popped the next button. As if alarm-activated, Lucy's eyes popped open. She stared at him in mute horror for a moment, and then squeezed her eyes shut, hand clenched around a large golden key at her belt. Loki swayed with the pull of the astral gate, but...no. She wasn't pulling him nearly hard enough.
"Well," he said cheerfully, "I guess it can be a union of joy and...mostly purity!"
Lucy had what appeared to be a small seizure. But, well, that was to be expected! After all, she was still a tender young maiden. With almost fatherly affection, Loki spread his arms, "Oh, don't worry. I'm very good."
There was a sudden slamming noise. And Lucy was mysteriously not in the room any more.
Loki's arms dropped back to his sides.
He stared at the door for a moment, and then grinned lazily. He stalked to the door.
So that was how she wanted to play it, huh?
Lucy paused in the lobby, a hand pressed to her beating heart. Calm. She had to keep calm. Also, she needed shoes.
But—getting her shoes meant going back there. With him.
Lucy hid her burning face behind her hands and made a noise to suggest her peril, and began pacing in small, frantic circles.
And so it really wasn't her fault that she completely ignored her audience.
"Nice hips," a wrinkled old man commented, jowls trembling with joy, "Might be crazy."
"What're you doing still looking at her legs?" his neighbor rasped. The four hairs still left upon his head curled up with joy. Finally catching on, Lucy froze.
Oh, please no.
"Child bearing hips!" the first old man protested again, "Functional! Those are just decorations!"
"Fool," the second old man shook his head, stopped, appeared to lose his train of thought, and then rounded on his companion as he remembered his purpose, "It's a good investment! They will only grow with time!"
Lucy crossed her arms with a terrified squeak.
"Ah," the first one assessed her as best his rheumy old eyes would allow, "Still crazy, though."
"It's not as though you'd be talking to her," the second one barked, and glared at Lucy fiercely, "Five hundred!"
"Five hundred and one!" the first one yodeled, and the two began beating at each other with their canes.
"Five hundred and two!"
Gathering her resolve, Lucy slammed through the door, and began tearing the place apart in search of her footwear. Loki paused in his quest to cover the room with rose petals.
"You look flushed."
"I'm not speaking to you."
"Why," Loki opened the bottle of body oil and began applying it liberally, "Did something happen?"
Lucy turned to bark something cutting, realized something important, and turned back around hastily. Loki grinned.
"There—there were these evil old men," Lucy stammered, "And. And. Is it really necessary for you to parade around like that?"
"But Lucy! My body is a splendor! It would be a crime to deny you of it."
Lucy redoubled her hunting efforts.
"What are you doing?" Loki asked, bending over her shoulder. Lucy yelped and instinctively punched him in the nose.
Loki blinked, dazed. "You have rather magnificent breasts," he noted. Lucy buried her face in her hands.
"Oh, god. Okay. Here is what is going to happen. Either you go back to the spirit world, or...or you help me find my shoes, and I'll call you a hooker, and then I'll just sleep in a barn, or something."
"You don't know how to call a hooker."
"I'LL LEARN," Lucy screamed, and then forcibly calmed herself, "And then, when there is a very great distance between us, I shall make peace with the incident by writing it in my diary, and then never thinking of it, ever again! The job can wait. Maybe I'll make Natsu do it. I have candy. He'll listen to me!"
She nodded, muttering fiendishly. Loki was overcome with fondness.
"But, Lucy," his eyes grew wide, "Think of our bond! Why, without you, I could fade away into the astral plane!"
Lucy stilled, her brow pinching in worry, "But I—don't want that..."
Loki moved in slyly, "So you see, what we may or may not do should really only be viewed as a...team spirit exercise."
"Is this like one of those lies about how if a guy doesn't have sex every day his...his thing will fall off?" Lucy asked fiercely, though her cheeks darkened upon mention of the male anatomy. Loki clasped her hands earnestly.
"Oh, so you've heard!"
Lucy made a break for the door, shoes be damned.
But, well, he wasn't about to let her get away that easy.
"They have complimentary beverages!"
Lucy's course veered sharply towards the minibar. Loki did a subtle fist pump of victory. No one could resist free booze!
And speaking of resistance...
"This is just a," Lucy swallowed, "A temporary stop. Don't think you've won!"
"Lucy," Loki sat beside her casually, "You don't really want me to leave, do you?"
Lucy choked. Loki patted her back, and then just sort of casually left his hand there. He might have traced the length of her spine.
"I mean," he smiled dashingly, "It's not like it's anything bad. Aren't you just a little bit curious?"
"NOT AT ALL."
"And it is bad," Lucy muttered, brandishing her tiny bottle of champagne like a weapon, "It's. Corrupting. I mean. And it couldn't last!"
"Because!" she looked honestly upset now, "I mean...I'll get old! And you won't!"
Loki's smile slipped, "You think I'd stop?"
Lucy's eyes widened. She set down her bottle of champagne.
And then, in a moment he would remember until the stars went out, she leaned forwards and pressed her lips to his cheek in full solemnity. Her lips were soft, and she smelled sweetly of perfume darkened by alcohol, and he'd have ripped down the sky if it meant he'd be able to keep her.
Suddenly shy, she looked down to her lap, and any last shred of reservation Loki once held promptly vanished.
"Well, that's convenient," he smiled happily, and casually dropped her into his lap, "This makes persuading you much easier!"