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The guildhall was loud in that warm, familiar way, like it had decided winter didn’t get a vote.
Someone had strung lights along the rafters. Someone else had hung tinsel with absolutely no regard for structural integrity. There were paper snowflakes stuck to the walls at odd angles, a lopsided wreath over the main doors, and enough food on the long tables to feed a small army… which, in Fairy Tail’s case, meant it might actually be enough.
Natsu stood near the center of it all, hands shoved in his pockets, scarf half-loose like he’d been tugging on it all night without realizing. Happy circled overhead for a moment before landing on the bar with a smug little grin, Carla beside him with her usual unimpressed stare.
“Look at ’em,” Happy whispered loudly, meaning not at all.
Carla’s eyes flicked across the room.
“You’re not subtle.”
Happy puffed out his chest. “I’m not trying to be!”
Natsu didn’t hear them. Or if he did, it didn’t stick. The guild was a blur of sound and color, Gray arguing with someone about whether hot chocolate counted as “real fuel,” Cana laughing like she owned the season, Mira floating from table to table with that gentle smile that made even the most chaotic troublemakers behave for five whole minutes.
And Erza.
Natsu’s gaze snagged on her like it always did.
She was near the main table, one hand resting lightly on the back of a chair while she listened to Levy and Lucy talk about something, gift exchanges, maybe, or a game someone had tried to organize before it devolved into shouting. Erza’s hair was down, which already felt like a small miracle, and she wore a red coat over her usual clothes that made her look… softer. Not weaker. Never weaker.
Just… like she’d allowed herself to be part of this.
She laughed at something Lucy said, quiet but real, and Natsu felt it hit him in the chest like a punch he didn’t mind taking.
He didn’t move right away.
He told himself he was just watching. Just taking it in. That this was normal.
It was.
He always watched her.
The thing was, he wasn’t sure when that stopped being normal and started being… something else.
Across the room, Gray’s eyes followed
Natsu’s line of sight and narrowed.
“No,” Gray muttered, like he was
watching a train begin to derail. “Don’t you start.”
Juvia, standing at his side, made a sound that was half sigh and half fond exasperation. “Gray-sama, they’ve already started. They just haven’t realized.”
Gray shot her a look. “Whose side are you on?”
Juvia smiled sweetly. “Love’s.”
Gray looked vaguely offended by the concept.
Natsu finally moved, weaving through bodies and chairs with the easy confidence of someone who’d grown up in this chaos. A few people tried to grab him for games or drinks. Someone- Elfman- clapped him on the shoulder so hard he nearly pitched forward.
“MANLY CHRISTMAS, Natsu!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Natsu laughed, righting himself. “Manly. Whatever.”
He grabbed a plate from the food table without even looking, piled it high in a way that would’ve made a normal person question the laws of physics, and then paused.
Because he’d picked up two plates.
Not because someone asked.
Not because he was told to.
Just because… well. Because Erza would forget to eat if she got caught in her own head. Because she’d act like she didn’t need it. Because he knew her.
He turned, scanning until he found her again.
Erza had stepped away from Lucy and Levy. She was standing near the edge of the room now, close to the doorway that led into the quieter hallway, the one that connected to the back stairwell and the smaller side rooms. The noise of the guild softened there, like the laughter and music didn’t quite reach.
Natsu approached slower than usual.
He didn’t know why.
Maybe because something in him had been wound too tight all night. Maybe because he’d caught her smiling like that and it made him want to protect something he couldn’t name.
Erza noticed him before he got close, of course. She always did. Her eyes shifted toward him, and for a second she looked like she might say something sharp, some command, some reminder that he was tracking food into her space, some playful reprimand.
Then her gaze dropped to the second plate in his hand.
And her expression softened.
“You brought me something,” she said, as if she couldn’t quite believe he’d done something so predictable.
Natsu shrugged, trying to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal. “Yeah. You weren’t gonna, were you?”
Erza’s mouth twitched. “I was perfectly capable of feeding myself.”
“Sure,” Natsu said, deadpan. “Just like you’re perfectly capable of sleeping more than three hours when you’re ‘fine.’”
Erza’s brows lifted.
Natsu froze, realizing he’d said that out loud.
“…I mean,” he recovered quickly, shoving the plate toward her like it could erase the moment. “Eat.”
Erza took it.
Their fingers brushed, barely.
It shouldn’t have mattered.
It did.
Erza’s eyes flicked to his scarf, which was sitting crooked again, like it always did when he got restless. Her hand lifted on instinct, and Natsu’s breath caught as she tugged it into place with gentle precision.
“Your scarf is uneven,” she murmured.
Natsu stared at her, suddenly very aware of how close she was. Of how her hand lingered just a heartbeat too long, fingertips grazing the fabric near his collarbone.
His throat went dry.
“You always do that,” he said, voice rougher than he meant.
Erza paused.
“Do what?” she asked, but her tone wasn’t sharp. It was… careful.
Natsu swallowed.
He didn’t have an answer that wouldn’t ruin something.
So he did what he always did when he felt too much.
He grinned, too bright, and leaned away like distance could reset his heartbeat.
“Fix me,” he said, trying to make it a joke. “Like I’m a messed up piece of armor or something.”
Erza’s eyes narrowed, but there was warmth behind it.
“You are far more difficult than armor,”
she said, then took a bite of food.
Natsu relaxed a fraction, like he’d been waiting for her to accept the offering before he could breathe again.
The guildhall roared behind them, some shouting match near the bar, laughter spiking, a brief burst of music as someone turned the volume up. Natsu and Erza stood at the edge of it, half in and half out, like they didn’t belong to the noise the way they used to.
Or maybe they belonged somewhere else now.
Erza’s gaze drifted over the room for a moment, landing on Lucy smiling softly at Cana’s chaos, on Gray glaring at a sprig of tinsel like it had personally offended him, on Mira’s serene expression as she guided a tipsy Gajeel away from the desserts.
“It’s… nice,” Erza said quietly.
Natsu blinked at her. “Huh?”
Erza took another bite, then lowered the fork. Her voice was still calm, but there was something fragile underneath it.
“This,” she clarified. “This feeling. Like we are safe enough to do something as foolish as celebrate.”
Natsu stared at her for a second, then looked away, scratching the back of his head.
“Yeah,” he said. “It is.”
He wanted to say more.
He wanted to tell her he liked seeing her like this. That he liked being near her when she wasn’t wearing her armor in the way she usually did. That he liked the idea of keeping this, keeping her safe, keeping the guild safe, keeping something warm and good and theirs.
But the words jammed up in his chest.
So he did what he always did instead.
He stood closer without admitting that was what he was doing.
Erza’s eyes flicked to him again.
Natsu felt it like heat under his skin.
Somewhere behind them, Cana’s voice cut through the noise.
“I SWEAR TO GOD, IF I SEE ONE MORE PERSON DODGE THE
MISTLETOE-”
Natsu stiffened automatically.
Erza’s brows rose.
“…Mistletoe?” she repeated, as if the word itself was unfamiliar.
Natsu’s face went hot.
“Uh,” he said, too fast. “It’s-nothing. It’s stupid.”
Erza looked past him toward the doorway near the center of the hall, where a sprig of mistletoe did indeed hang, green leaves tied with red ribbon, swaying slightly whenever someone walked under it.
She watched a couple of guild members pass beneath it and exchange laughing cheek kisses like it was a game.
Then Erza turned back to Natsu.
Her gaze lingered.
Just a beat too long.
“What is it meant to signify?” she asked.
Natsu opened his mouth.
Closed it. Opened it again.
His brain, for once, did not cooperate.
“It means…” he started, then scratched his cheek. “If you’re under it, you’re supposed to… y’know.”
Erza’s eyes narrowed, almost amused.
“I do not, in fact, know.”
Natsu coughed. “Kiss.”
Erza blinked.
Then, very slowly, she looked up at the doorway near where they stood, at the quieter hall beyond it.
Natsu followed her gaze.
There was another sprig there too, smaller and less obvious, tucked into the frame like someone had been deliberate about it. A second option.
Quieter. Away from the crowd.
Natsu’s pulse thudded once, hard.
Erza didn’t move toward it.
Not yet.
But her shoulders went a little more still, like she’d suddenly become aware of the air around them.
Natsu tried to laugh it off, tried to make his mouth do the easy thing.
Nothing came.
He looked at her instead.
At the red of her coat.
At the way her lashes caught the light.
At how her hand held the fork like a sword, even at dinner.
And he realized, with a kind of dizzy clarity, that he’d been fighting battles his whole life.
But this… This was the one that scared him.
Because he didn’t know what he’d do if he reached for her and she stepped away.
Erza finished her bite, set the plate down on a nearby side table, and met his eyes.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
Natsu swallowed. “Nothing.”
Erza’s expression made it clear she didn’t believe him.
Natsu’s hands curled into fists at his sides, then relaxed again. He shifted his weight, like he might step back, like he might run headfirst into the noise of the guild just to escape the quiet between them.
Erza watched him do it.
And then, slowly, carefully, she took one step toward that doorway.
Toward the mistletoe tucked into the frame.
She didn’t look up as she did it.
But Natsu did.
And his heart dropped straight into his stomach.
Erza stopped beneath it.
She turned to him, chin lifted, eyes steady.
“Natsu,” she said, quiet enough that only he could hear, “are you going to stand there all night?”
Natsu’s mouth went dry.
His feet moved before his brain caught up.
One step. Then another.
And then he was in front of her, under the mistletoe, too close to pretend this was anything else.
The guildhall noise faded behind them.
Or maybe it was just that Natsu couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his own heartbeat.
Erza’s eyes flicked to his lips.
Then back to his eyes.
He’d fought dragons.
He’d charged headfirst into enemies
twice his size.
He’d never been afraid of a kiss.
He’d never been afraid of wanting- Except now.
Erza’s voice softened.
“Tell me the truth,” she said. “Just this once.”
Natsu’s chest tightened.
He didn’t know how.
But he knew he wanted to.
He leaned in, just a fraction, like he was asking without asking.
And Erza, Erza didn’t move away.
The space between them felt impossibly small.
Natsu could feel the heat of Erza’s presence like a living thing, steady, grounding, dangerous in a way he didn’t know how to fight. The mistletoe hung above them, green and unassuming, like it had no idea what kind of tension it was responsible for.
Erza didn’t rush him.
She never did.
That was the thing that always undid him the most.
Her eyes searched his face, not for bravado, not for confidence, but for truth. And for once, Natsu didn’t hide behind a grin or a joke or reckless motion. He just stood there, heart pounding, letting her see him exactly as he was.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Erza said softly.
Natsu huffed a breath, half a laugh.
“Yeah. Kinda my thing lately.”
“That,” she replied, almost smiling, “is new.”
Her hand lifted, hesitant for the first time he could remember, fingers brushing the edge of his scarf. Not fixing it. Just touching it. Just touching him.
The contact sent a jolt through him.
“Erza,” he said, voice low. “If I start something… I don’t know how to stop.”
Her thumb stilled against the fabric.
“Then don’t,” she answered.
Two words. Quiet. Certain.
That was all it took.
Natsu leaned in, not fast, not clumsy like he might’ve once been, but careful.
Like he was afraid this moment might shatter if he moved too quickly. Their foreheads brushed first, breath mingling, and for a heartbeat neither of them did anything but exist there together.
Then Erza closed the distance.
The kiss was gentle..Almost reverent.
It wasn’t fire and chaos and sparks the way the guild might’ve expected from the two of them. It was warm and steady and grounding, Erza’s hand curling into the front of his scarf, Natsu’s fingers hovering uncertainly at her waist before settling there like they’d always belonged.
The world didn’t end. The guild didn’t explode.
Nothing dramatic happened at all.
And somehow, that made it perfect.
Erza pulled back first, just enough to look at him. Her cheeks were faintly pink, barely noticeable to anyone else, but Natsu caught it instantly.
“Was that…” she began.
“Yeah,” Natsu said immediately. “It was.”
Her mouth curved into a small, private smile.
Good. Because he didn’t think he could survive her doubting it.
For a few seconds, they stayed there
under the mistletoe, neither of them moving, neither of them ready to step back into the noise. Erza’s forehead rested lightly against his, and Natsu felt something inside him settle, something restless he hadn’t realized had been pacing for years.
Eventually, reality crept back in.
Footsteps. Laughter. Voices drifting closer.
Erza straightened first, smoothing her coat with practiced composure, though her eyes still shone a little brighter than usual. Natsu tugged at his scarf again, grinning like he’d just discovered fire for the first time.
“…So,” he said. “That was a thing.”
Erza arched a brow. “Astute observation.”
He laughed, softer this time. “You okay?”
She met his gaze without flinching. “Are you?”
Natsu didn’t answer right away.
Then he nodded. Once. Firm.
“Yeah,” he said. “I really am.”
They stepped back into the guildhall together.
It took approximately three seconds for Cana to notice.
She froze mid-sip, eyes narrowing as she looked between them. Then her grin spread slow and wicked.
“Oh,” she said loudly. “Ohhh.”
Gray followed her gaze and scowled.
“What?”
Lucy blinked. “Wait. Did something happen?”
Erza calmly reached for another plate of food like nothing in the world had changed.
Natsu slung an arm over Happy’s head to keep him from shouting anything incriminating.
Mira’s smile grew knowing.
Cana slammed her mug down. “I knew it!”
Natsu shrugged, unapologetic. “What?”
Erza didn’t deny it.
She didn’t confirm it either.
She just glanced at Natsu, brief, warm, unguarded, and that was answer enough.
Some things didn’t need to be announced to the guild.
Some things were better kept right here.
Between fire and steel.
The guild eventually quieted.
It didn’t happen all at once, Fairy Tail never truly slept, but the noise softened into low laughter, clinking glasses, footsteps drifting away toward the doors. Chairs were stacked. Candles burned low. Snow tapped faintly against the windows like it was trying to listen in.
Natsu hadn’t meant to stay. He never did.
But he found himself lingering near the edge of the hall, staring absently at the scorch marks in the floor from a fight long past, when a familiar presence settled beside him.
Erza didn’t speak at first.
She stood close enough that their arms brushed, close enough that he could feel the steady calm of her like a tether.
She’d taken off her armor hours ago, now she wore something softer, a dark coat pulled tight against the cold, hair loose around her shoulders.
“You didn’t run,” she said eventually.
Natsu snorted quietly. “Wasn’t planning to.”
She tilted her head, watching him the way she always did when she was weighing something important. “That kiss earlier,” she said, voice low, careful.
“I don’t regret it.”
Neither did he.
The realization came easily. Too easily.
“I was kinda worried you might,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “Like… tomorrow you’d wake up and think it was a mistake.”
Erza turned fully toward him then.
“If I thought it was a mistake,” she said,
“I wouldn’t be standing here.”
That hit harder than any punch she’d ever thrown.
Natsu swallowed. “I don’t really know what this is supposed to be.”
Her gaze softened, not disappointed, not uncertain. Just honest.
“Neither do I,” she said. “But I know what it isn’t.”
He waited.
“It isn’t something fragile,” she
continued. “And it isn’t something I’m afraid of.”
Silence settled between them again, comfortable this time. Outside, snow kept falling. Inside, Fairy Tail breathed around them, scarred, warm, alive.
After a moment, Natsu reached out, tentative, and took her hand.
She didn’t hesitate.
They didn’t kiss again. They didn’t need to. They just stood there, fingers intertwined, letting the night close gently around them.
Morning came bright and cold.
The guild smelled like leftover food and melted snow and woodsmoke.
Someone- probably Mira- had already started cleaning. Natsu wandered in half-awake, scarf crooked, hair a mess, still trying to convince his brain that last night had actually happened.
Then he saw her.
Erza sat at one of the long tables, sipping tea, posture relaxed in a way that was rare for her. She looked up when she sensed him, because she always did, and their eyes met.
No tension. No awkwardness. Just recognition.
She smiled. Small. Real.
Natsu felt something settle in his chest.
He crossed the room without thinking, dropping into the chair beside her like it was the most natural thing in the world. Their knees bumped under the table, and neither of them moved away.
“Morning,” he said.
“Good morning,” she replied.
That was it.
No grand declaration. No guild-wide announcement. No need for witnesses.
Across the room, Cana squinted suspiciously into her mug. Lucy paused mid-sentence. Gray glanced over, frowned, then shrugged. Mira noticed everything and said nothing, her smile gentle and knowing.
Erza reached for another cup.
Natsu reached for her hand again.
She squeezed his fingers once, brief, steady.
Whatever this was, it wasn’t loud.
It didn’t need to be.
It was simply there, solid as steel, warm as fire, and finally, finally allowed to exist.