Wolffuchsart's pic-
They came back from the training grounds, sweaty and a little flushed by the practice they had to endure— well, at least what Soul had to endure because Maka was completely fine with her own training regiment.
They walked alone in the dark, away from the last meister-weapon pair left in the field. Soul held her by the shoulder, wary of both the lurking kishin in the woods close to them as well as any creeps that would be spying on his meister.
He led her to the girl's locker room and waited for the door to click shut— but it never happened.
"Maka? Hurry up and get in, it's fucking cold."
He heard the handle jiggle, then a heavy boot slammed against the wooden door. "IT'S FUCKING LOCKED!" Maka stomped to where Soul waited and she crossed her arms. "If you went through the regiment faster, I could take a shower and we could be at home sleeping."
Soul took her by the hand, "You're the meister so you're the one who had to get the moves down. It's not my fault you suck at twirling my shaft." His palm grew sweatier despite the chill of the night air, well aware of the innuendo that escaped his lips. Luckily, his meister was too furious at the locked door to notice.
He pulled her into the boy's locker room and silenced her protests instantly with the smack of his palm against her mouth. He assured her that no one else would come in or use the showers at this time of night, especially since they chose unholy hours to continue practicing.
She only agreed to use the stalls after he provided her with his towel and spare clothes along with the promise to keep watch in the other room.
Soul left her to change out of his own sweats and tank top in the room next to her, pulling off his shoes first and removing the filthy sweatband from his forehead. He sighed for a moment, happy to have his own time alone to rest, when Maka's screams suddenly echoed through the locker room.
Soul darted immediately to her side, praying for her safety. When he arrived, he saw that the other pair who were practicing at that time had entered the room— Harvar and Ox.
He mentally slapped himself. They must had came from the back entrance, but they weren't a threat. In fact, only Ox was still staring at Maka's nude form while Harvar had the brain to retreat far away from the scene. Soul snatched the towel that hung on the side of the stall and flung it to his flustered miester. He then rushed forward to shield her even further from the intruder, holding her as closely as he did when he walked her from the training grounds.
"You idiot! Don't look at her!" He held a hand up in attempt to further cover the mess that was getting worse and worse.
Maka snapped out of her shock and wrapped the towel around her soapy body. "Soul, transform." She held her hand out, knowing he wound follow her every command— whether it was done after careful planning or her rash and hot-headed fury— and was met with cool metal.
"WITCH HUNTER!"