Written for a friend; obviously takes place when they are older!
Soul Eater Evans knew his peaceful morning was ruined the moment a knock sounded at his door at eleven in the morning.
A groaning Maka greeted him when he opened the door, followed by an equally idiotic-looking Black Star. He knew he should've been suspicious when Black Star insisted he was taking Maka out for a meisters-only night out, especially considering how heavy he liked to drink now that they had passed their teen years. Barely teetering above nineteen and yet still a child, Black Star looked ready to take on the world as he dropped Maka into Soul's arms.
"What the fuck?" He quickly shifted Maka to one arm as she grimaced into his sweater, burying her face in the soft fabric.
"Sorry Soul!" He had a feeling Black Star didn't know how loud he was yelling but just the pitch of it was making his head hurt. "If I knew Maka was such a bitch hungover, I never would've invited her," he cupped his hands against his mouth and Maka glared, shoving her fist in his general direction. "But I guess that's what happens when you challenge a big star like me to a drinking game HAHAHAHAHA—" Soul didn't hesitate slamming the door in his face. He'd let Tsubaki handle him, if the dazed boy even made it that far. Likely enough he'd crawl to Kid's house, preferring the wrath of the Thompson sisters (Soul did not hesitate to think Kid was probably drunk as well; although he was much classier while intoxicated than these idiots) to that of his own girlfriend.
"You challenged Black Star to a drinking game? Did you go and hit your head on the way to the party?" Maka groaned, swatting at the swath of white hair currently in her vision. Soul scowled when she missed by a mile, ushering her to sit in the living room.
"No one challenges Maka Albarn to anything," she grumbled. "I made a death scythe y'know!"
"I know; I was there," he said dryly, handing her a glass of water and a packet of Advil. He watched as she yanked off the jacket currently draped over her shoulders and hooked her finger against the back of her heels, throwing them to the other side of the room. He figured the jacket was Kid's considering how symmetrical it looked and he wondered briefly just how insane that "meisters-only" party had gotten that she not only had another boy's jacket but a rat's nest for hair.
"For the record, Kilik is way worse than me right now. In fact, I beat him by a long-shot. You would've been proud," she mumbled, flashing a thumbs up. Soul clucked, rolling his eyes and walking back into the kitchen to brew them some tea. He dimly remembered a conversation he'd had with Liz a few days prior while Maka and Kid were busy on a mission (meisters-only, of course) that ended with her dubbing him Daddy Death Scythe, his very own equivalent of a housewife. He scowled at the cabinets; he was not a housewife. He was a fucking demon scythe, for God's sake.
"Tea." She shot out a hand to accept the tea, pulling the blanket higher over her face.
"You could say please."
"I am way too hungover for formalities, Soul Eater; just hand over the tea and come cuddle with me," she said, snatching it out of his hands once he was close enough for her to touch. He settled down beside her with a sigh.
"If I had known you'd be so abusive, I never would've asked you out."
"Oh please," she snorted, closing her eyes as she took a steady sip of steaming liquid. She placed it down on the coffee table and tucked her feet under her legs. He wrapped an arm around her and pressed a soft kiss to her temple, glancing at the ball of fur that had darted out from behind the dinner table, purring in content. Blair didn't say anything; simply curled herself up on Soul's lap, and nudged the hand that wasn't stroking Maka's hair.
"Maka, is that Black Star's signature on your chest?" Sleepy eyes glanced down and suddenly she was alert, squealing in indignation.
"That asshole—"
"You are never going to a party alone with him again."