A/N: Welp, this is certainly happening. Here is my offering for Soma Week 2017 - I hope you enjoy! Many thanks to silly_twin_stars for eyes on the first chapter.
The next time he saw Blaine, he'd wring his bulging neck until the only way that hair dyed monstrosity would enjoy his cool ranch doritos was through a straw.
Crammed into some girl's closet on the very much off-limits ladies-only hall above his own, Soul had nothing better to do than relish increasingly violent thoughts about what he was going to do to his roommate for getting him into this mess.
It'd be a harmless recon mission, Blaine said. Just gather some info about the upcoming end of the year prank battle that the girls would totally leave out in the open like fucking morons, god - why didn't he listen to his gut, say no way Brose, and just third wheel Blaine's gooey date night? But no, he had to take one for the team, had to prove his brommitment to the cause, had to get himself trapped in the girls' hall with no backup escape plan.
Soul was sure he'd have more time, since he knew that this girl stayed out later on Tuesdays and Thursdays for taekwondo club, but they must have let out early tonight because he'd only just begun to carefully open one of the desk drawers when there were voices on the other side of the door. He'd only had a moment to scurry as quietly as he could to the small sliding door closet before they entered, so here he was, wedged between what felt like the hilt of a wooden katana and a bag full of beanie babies.
Taekwondo girl was visible through the narrow slit in the closet door, and she was talking to someone - her roommate? - about breakfast plans or something equally banal. He waited, hoping they'd leave to brush their teeth or put on face masks or whatever it was they did before bed, until his legs began to burn from the awkward position he was holding and he fought back a fifth sneeze. Didn't these girls dust?
Things seemed hopeful when the other girl, who had short blond hair and a small nose piercing, left the room, but then this girl shrugged out of her jacket and raised her hands to begin undoing the buttons of her blouse and no no no no, he did not sign up for this.
In a desperate attempt to look away from The Nudening in front of him, he shifted his weight onto his other foot and set in motion the first stage of the ludicrous Rube Goldberg machine that was his life. Somehow the simple act of adjusting his feet nudged a box he couldn't see, and suddenly something fuzzy and plastic feeling hit the side of his face. Then, right in his ear, a voice: Hey boo loo loo.
There was just enough light from the crack in the door for Soul to realize, with abject horror, that a Furby had fallen onto his face. With a shriek high enough to shatter glass, he batted it away and leaped from the closet, nameless girl be damned. There were some things less holy than spying on someone changing, however unintended, and Furbies were one of them.
The girl hardly missed a beat when she grabbed him by the wrist, twisted an arm behind his back, and shoved him to the ground, but all things considered Soul thought he was better off out here.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she said, tone calm despite the obvious affront at having a man flee her closet like he was shot out of a canon.
"Who the hell still has a Furby? What is this, 1999?"
She pushed his face farther into the close-cropped carpet. "That's not an answer."
"I-" His options were limited. Either he spit out the truth and damned his entire floor, his compatribros, to certain annihilation in the prank war, or he came up with something nuanced and convincing to smooth-talk his way out of this.
A smudge near the corner of her eye reminded him of hours spent painstakingly applying eyeliner during his scene phase and - that's it. "I was actually hoping to talk to you. You see-" he paused to suck in a deep breath as if he were hesitant to continue- "I was hoping you'd be able to give me makeup tips. I see you with your perfect wings around campus all the time, and, well, the guys already laugh at me for my hair and teeth, so I didn't want them to see me in the bathroom with mascara on." He risked a tentative glance at her face with just the right amount of nervous chagrin and a small, rueful smile. Maybe the acting classes his parents insisted he take in high school would pay off after all.
For a few seconds, Soul wasn't sure it was going to work. But then she released his wrist, tugged him back to his feet, and, in a very surprising turn of events, pulled him into the tightest hug he'd ever received. "Of course I'll help you!" she said fiercely, stepping back. "We won't let anyone judge you for what you want to wear or put on your face. Hold on one moment - I'm going to convene the girls."
The way she said 'The Girls' brought forth a new wave of nervousness about what exactly he was getting himself into, but it was too late for regret and definitely too early for relief. She took a few steps towards the door before spinning around with a gentleness in her green eyes that was at odds with the dull ache forming in the wrist she'd grabbed. "I'm Maka, by the way." Her outstretched hand looked like a relic from another era, because what kind of self-respecting college student shook hands in greeting when they could just wave awkwardly and avoid human contact altogether, but he found himself taking it anyway.
"Soul."
Her grip was firm and her smile open in a frank, direct way that did something strange to his chest, but before he could do more than give her a lopsided grin in return, her roommate burst into the room towing a taller girl behind her.
"Maka, I brought Sissy for our mini Tea Party! Tsu and Kim said they couldn't come 'til tomorrow-oh, a boy! Hello Random Boy!"
Maka directed her smile to the newcomers and Soul noted it took on a more relaxed, affectionate slant than the one he'd received. "Patty, Liz, this is Soul. We, ah, just met, and he'll be spending more time with us from now on."
The shorter one, who Soul now recognized from his time in the closet, stood to attention and gave him a cheeky salute. "Nice to meetcha! I'm Patty, Maka's roomie. Liz is my older sister, but she joins us for Tea Parties still because she has a lot of smarts about this kinda stuff."
Liz gave him a cool once-over, deep blue eyes calculating, and Soul got the distinct impression that she did not trust him one bit. Perhaps it was time to add some depth to this charade.
"Hi, I'm Soul. Like I was just telling Maka, me and the other guys don't really get along." He shrugged, letting some of the very real uneasiness he was feeling bleed into his expression. "I used to wear a ton of eyeliner and stuff and I wanted to do that again, but the way the guys are here, well, I don't exactly feel safe, you know?" He took a breath and looked at Liz, hoping she'd notice the (also very real) fear in his eyes. Sure, it was fear of being discovered and single-handedly ruining the boys' chances at winning this prank war, but Wes used to tell him that the best lies were truths pointed in the wrong direction.
Something like compassion flickered behind Liz's eyes and she stepped forward to clap a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry man, we're here for you. We won't judge you for being you."
"Right!" Patty chirped, moving past them to set a bag down on the lower bunk. "You're welcome to join our Tea Parties as long as you pinky promise not to tell anyone outside of this room what happens in 'em."
"Tea party?" Soul asked, tilting his head at Maka because some instinct told him that she was the leader here.
She looked at him consideringly for a moment before turning to open a drawer and pulling out a small sewing kit, a leather folder, and a first aid kit.
Liz glanced at Maka, eyes wide. "You're really gonna offer him The Pledge? We just met him, are you sure..?" She trailed off, the unspoken he's trustworthy? hanging heavy between them.
Maka smiled, different from all the other ones he's seen so far - this was quiet and sure and a little bit hard, and it reminded him of his mother's kitchen knives glittering on the counter after being sharpened. "He has kind eyes. I think we can trust him."
That stirred something in Soul's chest that had been buried for many years. Kids used to make fun of him for his unusual eye color and sharp teeth, calling him a demon or a monster or diseased, and he learned early on not to make eye contact until he could stammer out what he hoped was a polite enough greeting that they wouldn't immediately walk away. Upon reflection, Maka hadn't even blanched when she finally got a good look at him. Even Mr. Prim and Proper Morty Jr., or Kid, had looked at him askance when Blaine first brought him over for the night.
There wasn't time to think about this further, though, because Maka was looking at him again and Soul had a feeling something big was about to happen.
"Do you want to join our weekly Tea Parties? They're where we talk about confidential business, life things, and generally support each other in our goals. You do have to make a Pledge, first, before joining. Think of it as a small token of your willingness to put some of yourself into the team."
He looked at everyone's faces, Patty beaming and Liz carefully neutral and Maka unreadable in the most frustrating way, because he'd gotten this far making friends by being very good at reading what people wanted to hear, and he couldn't discern what kind of answer she wanted from him. But it sounded like this 'tea party' would be a great way to get the kind of info he was supposed to be gathering anyway, so with what he hoped was the right amount of genuine gratitude in his eyes, he said, "Thank you very much. Yeah, I'd like that a lot. What do I have to do?"
Maka undid the sewing kit and pulled out a needle along with an alcohol wipe from the first aid kit. "We're going to add a drop of your blood to the Sisterhood Map, which, well, now that I think about it, probably needs to be renamed." She opened the leatherbound folder and pulled out a folded map of the world, which she carefully opened on her desk and held down with a mug of old tea and a heavy textbook.
"The way this works is I'll prick your finger and you'll put a drop of blood on where in the world you think you want to make a difference after school. We think it's important to have goals, and the whole blood thing makes it feel more important, you know?"
While she opened the alcohol pack to sterilize the needle, he thought about where he would place his drop since he didn't really have any plans after college. More to kill time than anything else, he asked, "Where did you put yours, Maka?"
She tugged him closer to the map and gestured for his pointer finger, shaking her head as he held out his hand. "Can't say. Nothing's supposed to influence this but your own feelings."
Using the wipe on the pad of his finger also, she pricked it neatly and smiled in sympathy when Soul winced a little. "Everything worthwhile hurts a little at some point, right?"
"Right." Under closer inspection, he could see a few dots scattered around Tokyo, Paris, New York, Portland, and Los Angeles. Still unsure about what his future actually held, he found Death City on the map and pressed the small bead of blood between the small black dot marking their college town and another smaller, more faded drop of blood. Task completed, Maka brushed his finger with an alcohol wipe and then wrapped it an Adventure Time bandaid.
She blinked when she saw the fresh blood of his decision drying on the map, and looked at him with another unreadable expression.
"Don't forget the pinky promise!" Patty said from where she rested on the top bunk, stroking that damn Furby and reclined on a throne of stuffed animals with Christmas lights threaded through the bed frame.
"I won't, don't worry." Maka held out her hand in a fist with her pinky finger uncurled. Soul mirrored her, expecting her to say something when their pinkies were twined, but it was Liz who spoke.
"Do you promise not to talk about anything that happens at these Tea Parties, mini or official or otherwise, with anyone not present at them and to hold all sensitive personal information in confidence?"
"I do," Soul said, feeling vaguely embarrassed looking into Maka's eyes while their hands were intertwined saying I do, but that seemed to be enough for her when she leaned her hand forward so the pads of their thumbs touched.
"You have to lock it," she explained when he jumped slightly at the contact, and then released his hand. "Congratulations and welcome to our Tea Parties! There's just an informal one tonight before the official one tomorrow, so how about we get started with some eyeliner 101?"
"Uh, sure," Soul said, his lie already half-forgotten after the strange map ritual. As he settled awkwardly at Maka's desk while she dug out her makeup bag, Liz made a comment about his gorgeous lashes and something about mascara, and before he knew it both girls were taking turns hovering in front of him to apply various layers of eye makeup. While trying very hard not to blink while looking at the ceiling as directed, Soul wondered how he'd even begin to explain his night to Blaine.
/
"So what I'm hearing is you're part of some blood cult Sisterhood of the Travelling Eyeliner?" Blaine said, twirling a pen between his fingers while he ostensibly waited for more inspiration to add to the army of dicks littering the margins of his trigonometry notes.
Soul paused by the kitchen sink where he was scrubbing at his face with a dish towel, putting aside his dismay at how fucking hard it was to get makeup off in favor of giving Blaine the flattest look possible. "No, what you're hearing is I have a capital-I In to all of the girls' plans. They invited me to their weekly tea parties or something where they plan shit."
Blaine leaned back in his chair and let out a hearty guffaw. "Okay Mrs. Nesbit, whatever you say. As far as I can tell, all you have an in to is tea, crumpets, and spa nights."
"Yeah, well, we'll see tomorrow, won't we?" Soul glanced down at the smudged dish towel and then turned to Blaine. "Did I get it all?"
Blaine heaved a very put-upon sigh before closing his notebook and gesturing to Soul to come along. "Rule number one, bro: baby oil is the universal makeup remover."
"How the fuck do you know that?" Soul said as Blaine led him to his room and pulled out a small bottle of the stuff from the chaotic morass that was the space beneath his bed.
"You know how into Rocky Horror Show Kid is? Well, I sure as hell didn't want his makeup all over my face or my 1000 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets, so I did some research. The internet is a magical place, my dude."
Soul took the proffered bottle and poured a little into the dish towel he was still carrying. "Right, because god forbid you get any unwanted liquids on your sheets."
Blaine shot him a wicked grin. "Trust me bro, the rest of it was very wanted."
If Soul hadn't had a face full of dish towel, Blaine would have seen his eyes roll back into their sockets with the force of his scoff.
"Don't be jealous, man. Go get yourself a nice guy or gal or whatever the fuck it is you're into."
Soul sighed beneath the towel. "I'm not into anything, we've been through this." He remembers the first time he told Blaine about he doesn't get that 'tingly feeling in your dick-heart' when he looked at anyone, no matter how objectively or aesthetically attractive. Blaine was convinced he just needed to keep looking, that eventually he'd find someone (or something, which usually ended with Soul's elbow in his stomach) that would make him feel somehow different than normal.
He'd come to terms with being on the outside of snickering bro talks about pussy and boobs and ass, and he was usually fine with Blaine's periodic comments about his lack of a sex drive. Something about tonight, though, seemed off in a way he couldn't define, and he wondered for the first time in a while what it might be like to feel that pull everyone talked about.
"Yeah, yeah. More booty for me." Blaine's tone signaled the end of that conversation, and Soul peeked out from under the now very smudged dish towel to look at his much cleaner reflection in one of Blaine's four full-length mirrors.
"Huh, this stuff does work."
"Told ya. Anyway, how about this: you go to that tea party or whatever, and if it seems like it's a useful way to get info, you keep going. Yanno, like a mole. Or-" he paused to look at Soul in that eyebrow waggling manner that immediately triggered a deep-sigh response in Soul - "a brole, eh? Eh?"
Soul just shoved the baby oil back at Blaine and kept walking, turning only when something hit the back of his head. "Hey, what the fuck-"
"Keep it. If you're gonna be getting all girlified on the reg, you're gonna need it," Blaine chuckled before giving Soul the peace sign and belly-flopping into bed.
Soul stared down at the baby oil in his hands, remembering how delicately Maka had applied the eyeliner and how surprisingly rough her fingers were when they'd rested on his cheekbones. Shaking his head, he tossed the bottle in the air and caught it again as he walked to his own room, thinking of ways he could begin to ask them about their prank plans.