A/N: This is the first installment in a longer HS teacher AU written for SoMa week 2016.

Thanks to Kat, Julie, and Amanda for looking it over.

"Neck kissy!"

He felt the blow to his arm just after the loud stage whisper as they circled the room, rubbing it ruefully as he turned his eyes onto her wide grin. He'd known her long enough to know her punches, even the ones done in jest, hurt, but still couldn't bring himself to regret any game that made her smile like that.

He really, really liked her smile.

"Where-" he ground out. "I don't see-" ah, and there it was, a certain tall, red redheaded vice principal off in the shadows with the dance teacher. No wonder she'd punched him so hard.

As his eyes moved back across the room, past the gym full of orange and black streamers and balloons and pumpkins and dancing teenagers under the lowlights of a disco ball, he spotted an 11th grader shyly moving her face up to her date and missing his mouth to plant one on his nose. Soul couldn't stifle the small chuckle as he whispered, "nose kissy," and punched his companion softly in the arm the way you might mock punch a child. Maka might not pull her punches, but there was no way in hell he could ever stand to hurt her, not even a little, not even in the spirit of the game.

The really stupid game she had just made up, on the spot, tonight. The really stupid game he knew damn well she'd made up just for him, to distract him, because she knew how much he hated crowds.

That made him want to kiss her, not that he would. He wasn't quite that suicidal.

"Where?" she protested. "I don't see-"

"The exchange student, Tsugumi whasername, just tried to kiss Akane Hoshi. Someone probably told her it was a required American custom or some shit because she looked pretty uncomfortable. My money's on Diehl."

Maka sighed at that. "Kim has a good heart, it's just buried beneath a lot of bullshit. You know how she grew up-oh-French kissy!" she exclaimed suddenly, and he felt another hit to his already sore arm. This one, he couldn't miss if he tried, seeing as Liz Thompson was practically sucking Kilik Rung's face off in the middle of the the swirling lights of the dance floor.

"Ugh, get a room," he groaned.

The throbbing in his arm was replaced by a sharp pain to the ribs accompanied by an indignant gasp of his name as she elbowed him.

"What the-" he whipped his head around to glare at her.

"They're only 17, Soul, don't be gross."

"Yeah, because no 17 year olds ever do the nast-" the eye roll was well earned, but so was the sock on the arm"-hey!"

"Forehead kissy!" she said sweetly, motioning to dizzying, flashing crowd. The lights and crowd stole his focus, made him feel nauseous as they had earlier that night, and as they surely would again whenever his eyes lingered too long scanning the crowd. Her hand came back out, then, gesturing more specifically to where the very same Akane had his lips to the exchange student's forehead. Soul breathed in relief as he moved his eyes back to the safety of her face. The lights reminded him far too much of his childhood when he dared stare too long, but he refused to broadcast his mild, unwarranted distress, instead cloaking it in familiar snark.

"Great. My arm is gonna fall off before the night is out, you know that, right?"

"You whine a lot, you know that, right?" Her grin was so infectious it washed the nausea away and left him fighting back a grin himself.

Successfully beating back the urge to smile, he gave a long sigh of mock exasperation instead when they made another turn in their rounds.

As they neared the outside doors of the gym, she suddenly blurted, "wanna get some air? It's sweltering in here. All these bodies and teenage hormones could fry an egg."

"You are-so weird." This time he did grin, shaking his head. How she always seemed to be able to read past his mask of apathy and just know when he needed a breather was both uncanny and one of his favorite things about her. "But going outside? Isn't that against the chaperone code or some shit?"

"Language, Soul, and no-there are other chaperones. Breaks are a thing."

He shrugged his assent and they made their way out into the cool Nevada night. Back home, fall had always been his favorite season for the leaves and rain. Here, he was just glad for a slight respite from the perpetually sweltering heat. Soul sighed his content, closing his eyes and tilting his face to the stars to take in more of the night.

"Pretty, isn't it?" Her voice was soft beside him.

"Yeah, it's alright." It was gorgeous, but as he flicked his eyes her way, he saw something even more breathtaking as she smiled softly at him, practically glowing in her flowy white dress as she stood bathed in the light of the nearly full moon. She looked like an angel, but the bruises on his arm and ribs belied that image.

"Thanks for coming with me."

"Not like I had a choice. Vice Principal Asshat made sure of that."

"Sorry, I know Papa can be a jerk," she murmured. "Still glad you're here."

Really, he probably owed the old lech for this, because much as he hated big parties, much as the crowds and lights reminded him of a past he'd long since left behind, much as he had moaned and groaned, after Maka had volunteered to chaperone the Harvest Dance, he'd sort of wanted to go, and this way, he didn't have to look like a pathetic pining loser to have an excuse to do it.

If Spirit Albarn had known all that, he probably would have banned him from the dance instead. Good thing he was just capitalizing on Soul's widely known hatred of parties rather than remembering how much he hated the music teacher spending time with his beloved daughter.

Speaking of-

"So, are you all packed?" He turned his eyes her way, careful to keep his expression blank. Sharing an apartment may have been her idea-his was bigger and nicer, her lease was up, she had been looking for something closer to the school, and his prior roommate had only recently moved on to greener pastures-but he was still worried it was too good to be true, afraid to rock the boat and have it sink before it could even sail. They'd known each other for two years, been close for the last year, but this was still the type of thing that could make or break a friendship, and sue him, he was nervous. He wasn't sure he could take breaking this particular friendship.

"Mostly," she sighed out. "I just haven't had time to box up my books what with this last batch of tests."

"But your books are like-half your shit!" he scoffed. They really were. He'd never met someone with so damned many books. It must be an English teacher thing.

"Well." She turned to him, one hand on her hip. "It's midway into the first quarter, and unlike, say, music teachers who get to just ignore tests, I have to actually grade things."

"You're supposed to move in next weekend."

"I'll get it done!" she said through gritted teeth. "Just-"

"I'll do it."

"Wha-?" The way her jaw hung open like a gaping fish made the hours he would spend in neck breaking agony worth it already. It wasn't easy to surprise her, but it was always worth it.

"I said, I'll do it. Like you said." His grin was wide. "Music teachers don't do shit for tests-already had their mid quarter recitals. I can come over tomorrow after school. You grade, I'll pack your books."

"You won't just throw half of them away?" Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"No promises."

"Soul!"

"Fine, fine." He offered his most put upon scowl as he raised his hands in placation, fighting a smile. "I won't throw away any of your precious books, even if you could stand to weed out most of them. Just don't come crying to me when they won't all fit in your room."

Maka didn't say anything, just stepped over and punched him in the arm. Hard.

"What the-"

Leaning up on her tiptoes, she kissed him quickly on the cheek with a wide grin.

"Cheek kissy!"

And then she was sashaying back towards the gym. Soul gaped after her, rubbing the spot where her lips had just met his skin and wondering if this roommates thing was a bad idea after all.

As his heart pounded in his chest, he was sure this woman would be the death of him yet.