Note: I do not own Soul Eater or any of its characters, Atsushi Okubo does. This contains sexually explicit content, if this type of thing offends you, please do not read it. If you're fine with it, then please enjoy.

It's alarming to him. She can dance, hips twisting in figure eights, she's like liquid and solid and mist, and he thinks she's going to drive him to insanity with the way her body moves. He makes a conscious effort every day of his fucking life to not look at her in a sexual light, but there she is, body rocking in time with the music. And then she looks at him, her eyes luminous, and beckons him towards her. Everything in his brain screams too refuse, just as he always does, but he needs to be near her. Right fucking now.

"How much did you have to drink Maka?" He asks her warily, trying not to touch her but failing, his hands gluing themselves to her waist. Neutral zone, right? She pulls her arms around his neck, curls her fingers into his hair, and he's a little bit hard now, thank god for the low lighting.

"Just enough to feel better." This strikes him at his core. He realizes how she is often unhappy nowadays, and he doesn't know how to help her. His almost erection is gone for the time being, thanks to captain fucking gloom. She hasn't been letting him in recently. They're older now, and he thought her trust in him would have grown significantly over the years. Her recent silence has been rubbing salt in the wounds in his soul, old scar tissue reopened and left that way to bleed, fester and get infected. The demon doesn't help, sticking his filthy fingers in these wounds and twisting them. She doesn't trust you, you aren't good enough to be graced with her words, why don't you just give up? Surely there's someone better out there for her, someone to comfort her properly. I know for sure that person is not you. The words are difficult to ignore, always lurking in the back of his mind. He needs his meister, needs his Maka to help him out, but he doesn't have the courage to ask.

A slower song begins, she slides closer to him, hugging his body to hers. "Why don't we do this more Soul? I like it. I like you being close to me. It's a little scary sometimes, ya know? We do scary things.. fight scary monsters. If I get too close and something happens, I won't know what to do. I wouldn't know how to deal. I feel weird when you aren't around. Sometimes I turn to say something and you aren't there, and it hurts so much. I know you're just sleeping at home, or something like that, but it hurts. I feel weak. I need to be strong when I'm by myself too, but I don't want to have to be. God, what the fuck was in the drink Liz gave me?" He's dumbstruck. She just answered all the questions he had but couldn't ask. Thank you Liz.

"Why couldn't you tell me this shit three months ago? I've been worried as hell Maka. You can come to me with whatever you need to." He's so relieved, and exasperated, and just as scared as she is of turning around one day and not being met with emerald eyes and winged soul.

"I know that idiot, but not when the problem involves you, that's awkward!"

"Awkward is better than painful, don't give me any of that shit. We could have worked through this together a while ago, as partners, but you couldn't swallow your pride and trust me. What the hell Maka?" He tries to sound angry, just ends up sounding worn out and sad, and though she may be a little tipsy, she can still read him like a book.

"I just.. I didn't want you to have feel this way, this is what I was trying to avoid. I just figured if I waited long enough, I could work it out myself." He's impressed with how articulate she is with alcohol in her system. It just seems like she drank a vial of truth serum.

"You never have to work it out by yourself. That's what I'm here for.. we have each others' backs. Always. Right?" They aren't moving anymore, just embraced in the middle of this makeshift dance floor set up in Kid's house, and if anyone notices how close the two of them are, they can't be bothered with it. He can feel the pulse in her wrists against his neck, fluttering against his. It's fast. Very fast. Why is it so fast?

"Yeah. You're right." He nearly jumps out of his damn skin when her grip in his hair tightens a bit and her face moves closer to his. For someone so cool, he sure is a loser, totally petrified by the prospect of his meister kissing him and then deciding she doesn't like it. Don't ever fuck this up, he tells himself, and the moment her lips press against his he wraps his soul around hers. Her soul twines itself into the cracks of his, filling up the empty spaces. He realizes that they are most whole when they are together. Shortly after this realization, he also realizes she can hear his thoughts now, and blushes every shade of red that can be seen by the human eye. Not cool.

Your lips are nice. Is that where my cocoa butter lip balm went?

No dweeb, I didn't steal your chapstick. She bites down on his lip, but it doesn't have the effect she had been hoping for, and he sighs as he slips his tongue into her mouth, inhales her moan and shivers. This is insanity. He's gonna wake up and walk into that kitchen, and she'll hand him his eggs, just to turn away from him silently and lock herself away in her room. He slides his hands to her hips, thumbs pressed to her hip bones and the remaining portions of his hands on that dangerous area that could either be classified as her ass or her lower back.

Let's go home Soul. I don't want to be around other people anymore.

He couldn't agree with her more.

They slip out without saying goodbye to anyone. It's rude and they don't give a fuck. On the ride home she nuzzles her face into his neck, hugging him tightly. He wants to be hugging her back as soon as possible. She seems sobered up by the time they arrive home, the cold air doing a good job of pulling her out of the haze. She feels shy again, like a twelve year old girl trying to hold hands with the cute boy from class.

He opens their apartment door for her, and she trips over the welcome mat just over the threshold because all the lights are out and she's nervous okay? Just as she's tipping forward, warm arms wrap around her middle, pulling her back into a well muscled chest. He's so warm, she thinks she's going to melt. She's made her mind up.

She hopes that he'll go along with it.

She unravels herself from his arms, keeping a grip on one of them to pull him along behind her, in the direction of her bedroom. She's never done this before, is fairly positive he hasn't either, but she had always figured he would be her first. Her palms are sweating, and she knows he can tell, but is eternally grateful that he doesn't mention it.

"You know that I feel the same way, right Maka?" He's referring to looking back and feeling like his soul is ripped from his chest when Maka isn't there, like feeling weak when he needs her help, being terrified of the prospect of her not being by her side.

"I didn't.. I just felt weird about talking to you about it." She's averting her eyes. He hates when she does that, so he puts a finger under her chin and lifts her head up, her eyes focusing on his.

"Well don't." He slides his hand around to the back of her neck and gently pulls his mouth to hers. He meets no resistance, only quiet joy and acceptance. They would be okay. This would all be okay. He would make it so.

"Soul, I'm scared," she whispers against his lips, her fingers gripping the back of his jacket tightly.

"Why are you scared Maka? I promise I won't hurt you.." They're breathing hard, wide eyed as they stare at each other, mouths just barely touching. Soul thinks she's adorable, goes kind of cross eyed when he tries to focus on her more.

"I know you won't.. I know. I trust you." She initiates this kiss, wraps her arms around his neck and presses their chests together. She tastes very vaguely of maraschino cherries, and he can deduce now that Liz had given her a Dirty Shirley. Figures, Maka has always been a sucker for sweets.

She pulls away from him panting, grabs a wrist and tugs him toward her bed. They stand at the foot of it, not really knowing where to start. Soul shrugs off his jacket and places it on her desk, trying to be respectful of the neatness of her room even though they were planning to make a mess of it anyway. Maka lets out a giggle, endeared by how thoughtful he is being. Just imagine what he must be like in bed.

A fire is lit between her thighs now. She wants this, far more than she had realized. She sheds her coat, her shoes, the socks beneath them, and crawls up onto her bed.

"C'mere." And who is he to refuse her? He's hers, his soul, his heart, soon his body too. The thought of it sends a pleasant shiver down his spine.

He takes his place beside her in bed, laying his left hand on her right hip and pulling her in, kissing her slowly, focusing on making her feel all of what he feels. Her lips are soft, but never entirely yielding to his. It's a give and take, just as everything else is with them. He's hard now, a bit embarrassed but far more aroused. He almost whines when she pulls away for the trillionth time tonight, until he sees that she is unhooking her bra and pulling it out a sleeve. Did she practice that? Just for him?

Well fuck. That's really hot.

As he slides his hands into her shirt to touch the soft skin of her stomach, she sighs, and he can see her nipples clearly through her tight shirt, sees the goose bumps being bred by his touch. She pulls at his shirt, implying that he maybe, should probably, please take his shirt off. He does, making an effort not to tear it off too quickly, not wanting to startle her with his eagerness. But when he moves toward her, she starts in on his belt, her own excitement showing through. He responds by unzipping her skirt, kissing her cheeks, her neck, her jaw, everything he can reach. He chuckles softly when she starts to fumble with his zipper, distracted by his mouth. She lets out a little huff and slips her hand into his pants, cupping his erection through his boxers, making him moan aloud and shudder. He grabs her wrist and pulls her hand from his pants, grabs the hem of her shirt to pull in over her head, and she lifts her arms to help him.

Her breasts are perfection, or maybe he's bias, but he doesn't care. She's allowed him to see her like this, aroused and clothed in only a tiny scrap of material she calls underwear, and he's so honored, feels so privileged. He's the only man who has ever seen her this way.

He grips her by the waist, starting his trail of kisses at her mouth, and ending it at the waistband of her panties. He looks up the expanse of her torso, smiles, because just beyond those perky bright pink nipples he just had his mouth around, he sees her gorgeous green eyes, and her warm loving smile. He's ready to duck back down, taste her as he has wanted to for a long time, but she reaches for him, pulls his face back to hers. They kiss slowly without space between their naked chests. She rids him of his pants and boxers, he rids her of her underwear, and they're naked, rubbing against each other. Soul slides a leg between Maka's thighs, pressing right up against her slick folds, and her voice is needy when she asks him to please touch her more, which he does.

"I'm s-so glad it's you," She tells him, her erratic breaths making the words come out stuttered. He understands all the same.

"So am I." She's got her arms around his shoulders, he an arm around her waist as he slides a hand between her legs and teases, barely touching, but touching nonetheless. She mewls and grinds her pussy closer to his hand. When he finally pushes a finger inside her, she cries out in relief. He massages her insides for a minute, reveling in her warmth, imagining what it would feel like be joined with her, made one entity instead of two. They do it with their souls all the time, but this is something else. She's got a hand on his cock now, and as if she had heard his thoughts, she says," Are you ready?"

Well obviously.

But he's frightened again. He doesn't want to hurt her. He's heard a lot of horror stories about first times for girls, and he really doesn't want anything like that for her.

"Soul, it's okay. I want this.. you aren't going to hurt me."

He's shaking, his cock poised at her entrance, the tip of him engulfed in wet heat, when he gets slapped with a reality check so hard it makes his head spin.

"Condom."

"What?"

"Fuck it all… I don't have a fucking condom."

He's pulling away from her, but she grabs his face with one hand and his dick in the other.

"We don't need it, I'm on the pill. Now will you please get inside me?" Well yes. Yes he will. He pushes into her as slowly as he can, giving her time to adjust to the feeling of him. Her legs wrap around his hips and pull him in deeper, and he groans into her skin, cussing quietly at how incredible it is to be in her. Her entire body tenses in discomfort for a moment, but he's there, kissing every inch of her face, asking if she's okay, if she wants to stop? She grinds her hips into his, gasping, wrapping herself and her limbs and her soul around him, shuddering when he thrusts into her gently. It doesn't hurt as much anymore, the pleasure winning out, and she starts rocking her hips in a steady rhythm, moaning and cussing, mumbling things like 'amazing' and 'love you' and 'so good'. He reaches a hand down to her clit, rubbing and pinching in time with his thrusting, and she comes, convulsing and clenching around him, his name a screamed whisper on her lips. She feels too amazing for him to handle, his climax hitting him immediately after she has hers, and they shudder together, connected and content. Soul tumbles down beside her, sated and exhausted, and smiles at her, the kind of smile that reaches your eyes.

"I'm glad you finally told me how you have been feeling Maka," he murmurs against her temple, kissing her there and sighing.

"Not nearly as glad as I am," she tells him, and before he can argue, her lips are on his, just resting there as if that's where they always belong. He smiles into the kiss, and she smiles too, laughing softly, unbelieving of the fact that this is reality. They fall asleep wrapped together, entwined by limbs and blankets, and when Soul wakes up, she's still there, stark naked and absolutely beautiful. He's of so very thankful for that one Dirty Shirley.