The roar of the plane engine makes her ears ache.
Maka's arms lay heavy on the narrow rests in between the seats, having wrested both from her seat partners on either side of her. One with a well placed glare and practiced growl, the other with a wink and a smile to her shiny new husband.
Her Soul.
They booked a red eye to rest before their honeymoon, not intending to get much upon their arrival, neither taking into account that an hour 8 flight is possible the least restful event, especially after their wedding and reception.
Though in the chaos and merriment, they did managed to slip away for a couple of minutes, not nearly long enough, before they were quickly whisked off to the airport.
Maka grins to herself, her cheeks pinking at the memory of his mouth on her skin, his hand tucked under the long skirt of her wedding gown, teasing her through soaked silk.
"Wait," he had whispers to her in the dark. "Just a few more hours. And then…"
He slid a single finger into her, pumping hard and fast until she was clawing at his strong, bare arms-
Bing.
Maka grunts and cracks an eye open.
Soul bobs his head to the music pouring from his very expensive headphones (wedding gift from Wes, along with a silvery, silky night gown for Maka).
His fingertips tap endlessly to the beat. As often as they fly, there's something about planes that just don't sit right with him.
And it's a long flight from Death City to Kauai.
Technically, they're already on their honeymoon, and she really needs to get some rest.
Maka takes his hand in hers, interlacing their fingers. Soul looks up at her and smiles, the brightest happiest smile she's seen since, well, 17 hours ago, when she walked down the aisle in a flowery white dress. She lifts his hand to her mouth, kissing the back of his hand, gently.
Soul's smile slips into something softer.
His smile shifts again when she takes his middle finger into her mouth.
His eyes, rich and dark, dart around the cabin, search for the sleeping flight attendants, but then settle on his finger disappearing between her lips.
Maka releases him from her mouth with a wet pop.
Grateful for the blanket the flight attendant gave her, she puts Soul's hand on her thigh and covers both of them with the blanket.
Soul squeezes her thigh under their covers, hard enough to make her squeak. They both still, scanning the aisles for any suspicious looks. The passenger next to Maka, from whom she won the coveted arm rest, gives a shuddering snore from under his blanket.
Coast clear, Soul slides his hand further up Maka's skirt.
He strokes the delicate skin on her thigh, each little circle traveling higher and higher. The back of Soul's knuckles nudge Maka's thighs apart, and her knees spring apart as far as they can in her cramped airplane seat.
Soul grins and obliges her, fingers curling around her panties and running a finger along the seam of her wet slit.
Will there ever be a time where Soul's touch won't melt her in a puddle of warm, feelsy goo?
She hopes not.
Maka shoves the headphones off of Soul's ears and pulls him as close as she can, until her lips are flush with his ear.
"Please," she implores.
Soul leans back and kisses her on the cheek, sweet despite his hand under her skirt.
"But Angel," he murmurs. "It's our honeymoon."
With the rumble of the engine and the dim cabin lights, he sinks a single finger into her wet slit.
Maka bites her lip, stifling her moan, and tilts her hips, allowing him deeper. Soul pumps his finger in and out slowly, a second finger teasing her entrance.
Her husband likes to wind her up, make her last and last, until she's begging for him, all of him.
Maka glares at him, her cheeky spouse, takes his wrist and increases the pace of his fingers.
Their movements leave little to question, but Maka just got married to her best friend, her most trusted confidant, her weapon, and the love of her life, so she can't bring herself to give a damn, especially when his thumb plays with her swollen clit.
With gentle snores all around them, Soul curls his fingers inside of her and she arches her back, shuddering and gasping in her seat.
When Maka comes down, she wraps her arms around her husband's neck and pulls him in for a sloppy kiss. Soul slides his hands behind her to grip her butt, squeezing and prompting Maka to giggle into his mouth.
The plane trembles and the fasten seatbelt light bings on. Passengers stir in their seats, squinting under the green glow.
A small cough from behind Maka interrupts their kiss. They break apart and Maka shoots a glare over her shoulder.
"Get a room," the man next to her mutters grumpily, lowering his eyemask.
Soul, arms still around her, lowers his burning face to her shoulder.
"Only six hours to go," he says, lips grazing her neck.
Maka shudders, anticipation pooling deep in her belly.
A small idea buds in her head and she prays that their resonance can echo above the captain making some announcement or other.
So Maka gets up, thighs wet and sticky, and partially limps to the aisle. She pats Soul's thigh, not ignoring the tent in the front of his pants, and cocks her head toward the back of the plane.
The bathroom is mercifully empty.
She's not in there two seconds when she hears a soft knock on the door, and a softer, low, "Maka," that makes her shiver.
Her mouth twists into a crooked smile as she whispers back, "Come in."