Maka opened the door and tried not to sigh too heavily. To be honest, she'd expected this. She'd known it was coming ever since Black Star had suggested it. Soul had turned eighteen today, well she supposed it was yesterday now. Black Star had demanded that his "follower" go out drinking with him, since he could now do it legally. Soul had agreed of course – it seemed to her that Soul agreed with all of Black Stars' stupid ideas.

"Hi Kidd."
"Hello Maka." The young shinigami said sheepishly.
"Maka!" a drunken Soul exclaimed. "Hey Maka!"

Kidd had been dragged along as well; Black Star and Soul had decided it was going to be a boy's night out. As a shinigami, Kidd was much less affected by alcohol so it inevitably fell to him to get his drunken friends home to their partners.
Maka slung Souls' free arm over her shoulders and relieved Kidd of his burden.

"Thanks Kidd. I'll see you tomorrow- well, later today."
"Goodnight Maka." Kidd said with a slight smile.
Maka kicked the door shut and started trying to manoeuvre Soul to his room. Soul seemed more interested in trying to hug her. Apparently, a drunken Soul was a cuddly Soul.
"Mmm . . . missed you t'night Maka. Star was so loud." He whined.
Maka rolled her eyes. She was never going to let him drunk again.
"Yes, I'm sure he was."

She was glad that Kidd had dropped Black Star off first. The last thing she wanted was Black Star waking all her neighbours. Maka stopped halfway down the hall when she realised Soul was already asleep. If he'd waited a few minutes, then she could've quite happily tipped him into bed and gone to get some sleep herself. But, no, the irritating sod had to fall asleep in the middle of the hall and almost bring her crashing down to the floor.

Knowing she'd regret it, Maka tugged a strand of soft white hair.
"Soul, you have to wake up. Damnit Soul you're too heavy for me to drag you to bed!"
"I wou'n't mind you draggin' me to bed." He replied blearily. Maka blushed.
"Come on you idiot Shark Bear, your bed's just a little further."

Soul was mumbling something about being better looking than a shark, but Maka tuned him out. Dear Death, who knew a drunken Death Scythe could be so clingy? He was almost as bad as her papa – except, her papa would be staggering into someone else's bed instead of staggering home into his own.

Finally, joyfully, Maka pushed him onto the bed. Soul immediately smashed his face into a pillow.
She sighed. Should she really let him sleep fully clothed?

Maka decided she would at least take his shoes and jacket off. The shoes came off without a hitch, but the jacket was somewhat trickier. Finally, with some tugging and quite a bit of grumbling about stupid weapons and their stupid friends, Soul was left in socks jeans and a t-shirt.
"Night Soul" Maka murmured as she turned to leave.

She hadn't even managed one step when Soul's arm shot out, far quicker than she thought was normal for a drunk, and pulled her down onto the bed with him. He muttered something unintelligible and wrapped his arms around her like she was a freaking teddy bear. She could feel his breath on her neck and his hair against her face. His heartbeat thumped against her chest.

Maka gently tried to ease away from her, apparently asleep, weapon. The only result was that his grip tightened. She sighed. Apparently she wasn't getting to her own bed tonight.

Soul smirked happily. He wasn't drunk enough to miss a chance to snuggle with his miester.