this chapter contains explicit content

Maka

In order to help Soul pass the final as promised, Maka has been studying several subjects. On top of what she already must know for the test itself, she has flooded her mind with every bit of information she could find on the subject of Soul Chain.

Uncharacteristically cutting Physical Ed earlier today, it had taken her the entire class period to skim through the small stack of promising books just to find a name for the ability: Soul Sway.

When she finally knew what to look for, the search for more information was still more or less fruitless. At first, the most she could find regarding the possession of souls was about the kishin.

"In the case of the kishin Asura, it is believed that [Soul Sway] was used for the sole purpose of deceiving Asura's weapon, Vajra, allowing him to control the weapon long enough to consume his soul wholly. It is said that Asura was a very distrustful and secretive man, and thus was able to keep his true incentives hidden from his partner, deceiving him and completely devouring the weapon."

Because of this act of Asura's and the subsequent havoc wreaked on the world, Soul Sway had become an ability that is generally looked down upon by the public and higher intellectual circles. It's potential to be dangerous kept it from being taught at the academy. Being a taboo subject, finding legitimate data on it had been impossible. Maka had read many versions of the account of Asura, but she wanted to know how it works, not why it's kept under wraps, as it were.

There were no other official, documented examples of Soul Sway for her to find, though there was a small amount of speculative excerpts and theoretical analysis in the book that she had brought home with her to study. She's pretty sure that the collective scholars of Shibusen would probably not recommend it on their suggested reading lists, judging by the various and probably objectionable subjects it touches on.

Well, they shouldn't have stocked the tome in the library in the first place.

In this single book, Soul Sway is explained as 'an imbalanced Soul Resonance' as she had assumed, along with '-a very flexible, very suggestion-heavy tether between two linked souls.' Any number of things can create it, or keep it from existing. The author goes on to describe theories of the application of Soul Sway, such as compelling one's partner to respond with faster reflexes, lending strength, speed, information, and other useful abilities, all from a distance.

Likewise, the author lists all the possible dangers of entrusting one's soul into the domination of another- again giving the example of Asura and his betrayal of his partner. Maka had been put off by all the negative connotation on the subject, feeling disheartened, but then one line in particular had caught her attention:

"It is unfortunate that one horrific example of Soul Sway keeps scientists from further exploring any of the beneficial potential that could be harnessed ..."

Something about this line had nagged at her and, taking the bait, she had glanced at the cover of the book, searching for the author's name.

Franken Stien, PhD.

Maka had supposed that Shibusen's library must be obligated to keep the works of their own staff, after all. Clearly, it had been a sign. A challenge from beyond! She'll definitelyharness the benefits of the professor providing answers to her problems. Maka's resolve to finish her quest had hardened ten-fold.

However, after all said and done, Maka finds her resolve quickly failing. What had started as an experiment has now quickly mutated into an accidental, mutual admittance of being uncontrollably horny.

Her composure is hard to maintain when Soul directs her hands to undo the knot in her uniform's tie. She complains, and he retorts that it wouldn't be happening if she would only deny him. Which is true. She needs merely to reject the strange, tingling numbness in her hands and she would be her own again.

Maka curses her curiosity. Soul removes the headband holding back his hair, flinging it carelessly to the coffee table.

"Soul," she says, kicking herself for her unsteady voice, " I'm supposed to be practicing possessing you."

He leers at her from under an unruly cropping of white fringe, eyes branding her with their intense gaze. "You told me to do it again, so you would pay attention to how it works. So pay attention."

"Forgive me, but it's hard to concentrate when I'm groping myself," she grits between her teeth.

Soul gives her breasts a squeeze, though it's her own hands that perform. He casually tells her with a crooked smile to not think what he's thinking, and there won't be a problem. Right. Easier said than done. She's guilty as charged, trying to glare at him but her arms lift her shirt up and over her head, the blouse blocking her view until it too is flung on the coffee table.

His desires are practically being shouted at her over the bond, and Maka can't help but think of them as well. It's a vicious cycle of his need and her curiosity and the jittery amplification of both. Not to mention that their current connection is as strong as Soul Resonance and she can hear every thought Soul has- even the ones he's embarrassed about. Like how he's never going to call lacy, virginal, puppy-emblazoned bras unsexy ever again.

He wants her. He wants her to melt into him and never separate, he wants to melt into her her and pound her into next week, he wants to hear her voice calling for him so loudly that it shakes his bones, and if he doesn't feel her tits within the next five minutes there's going to be a serious problem with his mentality.

And now she understands the true meaning behind Soul Sway. Soul's thoughts are so tempting in their steaming, scalding urgency that she can't help but be consumed. He bombards her with persuasive ideas, things that he could do to her, with her, for her- but oh, how he shouldn't! But she's reacting in turn, is she not? Would she lean back just a little bit for him? Just like that, yes. Perfect. Would she kiss him back? He loves her tongue.

Wait, how is this happening? This was supposed to be a study-session of sorts. He's in her lap somehow, and tasting her mouth, trying to keep his breathing steady and his lust in check. She needs only to will her arms to life to turn the tables, but she has absolutely no desire to. Some resolve!

Maka didn't know he was this passionate, or maybe she did but never fully considered that passion being directed towards her. Though she had experienced a form of it in the Black Room, and felt little hints of it during private moments, this is a complete onslaught of her senses. Her body feels like she's encased, nearly drowning in the dangerous, burning pressure of his want. Soul's tongue delves into her, sliding and toying for awhile before moving off to press heated lips to every part of her skin he can reach.

Either because his mouth is occupied from teasing her neck with jagged canines, or because there are some things he can't say out loud just yet, he thinks the mantra of words he wants her to hear. It's not the shape that matters- their souls will be forever intertwined regardless- but it's definitely a bonus that he's completely enamored with her body. She's beautiful, and he can't deal with it anymore. He loves her so goddamn much, he hates that she's made him into this uncontrollable, hormonal, national emergency, he hates that he definitely hadn't thought to buy condoms while he was out, he can't believe she's still letting him fondle her like this, and he has no idea how they're going to pull this connection off during the test tomorrow, because he'll probably end up jumping her and bending her over a desk and-

Maka stops his train of thought. She finds her hands, moving them of her own volition and changing the connection, using a palm to press lightly against his groin. Soul makes a weird little strained noise against her throat, his body freezing with her touch. Instead of destroying the flow of Soul Sway, she tries to keep it intact. The current is shifting as she beats it back, calling it under her control and demanding that his soul yield to hers.

Soul Sway is just a matter of imbalanced Resonance, right? She needs to tip the scales into her favor. She floods the bond with herself, pouring into him, thinking and feeling loud enough that he can't resist her. The world seems to phase out and all her focus is tunnel-visioning to him and the familiar wavelength of his soul. Yes, think of what shecan do for him, now. Isn't that a nice idea?

It only takes a little urging to get him off her lap so they can switch places. He's a little bewildered, because he feels like the black blood is taking control of him, except it's her instead. It's a little redundant in this case though- he would definitely do anything she asks. He's hers. She can crawl into his lap and demand him to grind up into her crotch anytime, even without...what did she call it? Soul Sway? Aptly named, that is. Ooh, he loves it when she runs his hands up his chest.

Having control over him is a strange sensation. As well as being able to know his every thought and reaction, Maka thinks she might be able to feel what pleasure is like for him. She can almost feel the tie in his hands as she directs him to remove it himself. It's extra confusing when they kiss- experiencing faint mirror-echoes of the sensation of her own tongue. Whatever he feels she can as well, for it's his body and soul she possesses, every stimulus repeated back to her like a feathery, light-fingered graze of smoke.

Maka is addicted to the sight of his eyes hooded in pleasure, but something on his face distracts her. Tomato sauce? He should take a thumb and swipe it off. Higher on the cheek. There. Taste it. Is it good?

Can she try?

She wonders what the hell has come over her and where her resolve has gone when he offers an open palm to her. Maka takes his thumb into her mouth, licking off traces of sauce and his own saliva, grazing lightly with teeth. His reaction is reward enough. She can feel him straining against the hold she has over him. Soul's arousal spikes impossibly over the bond, frustrated because she sets the pace to his bucking against her and he wants to go faster.

Her reign over his soul is short-lived. He's figured it out, and he's back in command again, usurping her and suggesting that she, for the love of all that is holy, press harder against him. He grips her hips and shoves her down nearly painfully against his straining erection. His jeans are chafing the insides of her thighs and she thinks that surely her skin will ignite. Maka wantonly undulates in his lap, letting him direct her as he pleases. Soul's hands fiddle with the clasp of her bra, and then, irritated, leads her to undo it herself. Pulling it away from her, he unabashedly palms her tits, molding and groping and pinching while she pants loudly.

She can't believe she's doing this with him, whimpering and mewing in his lap while he worries her skin in splashes of color with his teeth. But then again, she would never do this with anyone else. There's too much. There's too much that she feels for him to merely say in words. Can he feel it? Does he know of the massive vice in her chest that constricts uncomfortably whenever she thinks of him- her heart unable to contain so much? She doesn't know what couples are supposed to do, doesn't know how to show her love for him, doesn't have any song she's written to to play for him, so all she can offer is herself. He's always said that his life is hers, but in reality it is her life she entrusts to him. What can she do for him? He can do with her as he will.

Soul groans at this confession of sorts, crushing her to his chest and burying his face in the crook of her neck. "Don't tell me that," he says hoarsely, the words fire on her skin. "Might do something I shouldn't." His hips jerk up and press hard into her, and he keeps himself there, shuddering in restraint, wishing desperately that there aren't clothes between them. Maka moans helplessly at the pressure.

More. He wants more of her voice. He knows how to get it out of her. Won't she rest on the couch? It's more comfortable. Excuse him, but he'll be taking her underwear now. Geez, they're soaked. What- she can't be embarrassed now, save that for later. Will she lie still while he arches her mile-long legs up over his shoulders?

Her eyes widen in apprehension. Maka's unsure if she's questioned his actions out loud or through the bond, but he says in a raspy purr, "What's it look like I'm doing, woman?" While pushing her skirt up her hips, he then lowers his head between her thighs. "Gonna lick you until you go stupid," he thinks matter-of-factly.

Her weapon thoughtfully backs off on Soul Sway, it's hold on her dissipating, giving her freedom to escape if she doesn't want him to continue. The ratio of their souls is somewhere close to fifty-fifty, the resonance familiar and comforting. Maka can still hear his thoughts, and they are a mixture of smug excitement and soothing encouragements.

"Just feel me. Enjoy this."

Though she appreciates the freedom he has granted her body, it probably isn't in his best interests- she definitely can't keep herself from bucking and squirming, and he has to exert more force to hold her still enough to continue his attentions. Every touch of his tongue and lips makes her cry out blindly, her hands gripping his hair and shoulders for any sort of anchor.

She moans and gasps, shivering from the sensation and his revealing emotions: Her body is hypnotic. He wants so badly to be doing this to her with his dick. He's totally going to die from blue balls. But then again, the look on her flushed face is so very, very satisfying, he may yet live another day. Can she still think coherently? He'll fix that.

Soul licks ruthlessly, definitely using Soul Chain to his advantage, finding the most sensitive areas of her folds and playing them until she's nearly sobbing. She feels like a worm, writhing and arching aimlessly, nearly crawling away from him when he surrounds her clit with his mouth, sucking warmly, holding her thighs and trying to keep them from suffocating his face.

"Come for me, my meister."

Even though he isn't possessing her body, Maka doesn't have a choice. With wave after wave pure intensity crashing through her senses along with Soul caressing her mind and body, her orgasm tears her apart.

While Maka tries to unsuccessfully pull herself back together, he languidly licks along her thighs, kissing her when they quiver in aftershock. Her throat feels raw, and she has a sneaking suspicion it has something to do with fifteen seconds ago. There's an incessant beeping and she can't figure out what it is.

"Dinner's ready," He grins into her leg.

If that is how they plan on studying from now on, she may as well drop out because she'll never pass again. Soul snorts against her skin.

Maka feels intensely guilty, because hadn't he been sporting the boner of the century? Where did it go? Is he okay with that? Should she have...done something about it?

He doesn't seem to care as she watches him eat lasagna (that he made for her- cue another guilty jab) straight from the still-hot casserole dish and consequently burning his mouth in the process. She's not so sure if that's how he really feels though. She feels lost without the mind-revealing waves of Soul Resonance or any tangent thereof. Soul Chain feels pretty pathetic in comparison, and Maka catches herself straining to hear him better over the usual bond.

She's dressed in her skirt and his shirt, because he's used hers as a hot pad to rest the food on the table like it's totally acceptable. Sitting cross-legged on the floor next to him and picking at the extra crispy bits of pasta around the edges of the casserole for herself, she worries about where her undergarments have ended up, if someone can really die from blue balls, and if the two of them are going to pass the test tomorrow.

Soul is terribly pleased with life, alternating between fork and pen as he jots down music notes on a paper towel. His other hand is shoved somewhat possessively in the bend of her knee between calf and thigh. Maybe she shouldn't worry so much.
Maka lays her head on the coffee table, chewing lazily. She feels sated, not even really hungry- only eating because the food tastes good. Her weapon sucks in air hastily to cool off the food he's impatiently shoveling into his mouth. She can hear the pen's scratching through the table her ear rests on.

The pen in his hand is the only goal she needs to reach for the test tomorrow. Surely it can't be that difficult. Especially after having exercised the ability as thoroughly as earlier.

"Soul."

He grunts, setting down his pen and picking up his fork once more.

"Let me possess you again." To his smirk and raised eyebrow she hastily adds while sitting up, "T-t-to see if I can make you write, that's all!"

Soul acts like he's unconvinced, chewing with a mocking, "Mm-hmm."

After a smack or two, she finally gets him to keep his mind out of the gutter for five seconds and, with the goal of Soul Sway in mind, allows her to take control of his body once more. It's the same strange feeling of knowing two bodies at once, and she tries to concentrate on that sensation rather than any others she may have felt during such a connection.

"I know what your thinking," he partially sing-songs at her failure.

"Shut up and pick up that pen," she grumbles.

"Yes, my meister," he says smugly. He carries on in his head. "Whose mind is in the gutter now? Is it still reeling from your humble servant licking your-"

Maka suggests that he removes his perverted hand from her leg and stab himself with his pen. Despite being injured against his will, Soul doesn't reject her control, which leads her to wonder if he's a masochist. He replies internally that she doesn't know the half of it while outwardly he rants about how abusive she is.

She ignores his spluttering while compelling him to write what she wishes on a corner of his paper towel. She can nearly feel the plastic in his hand and the amount of tension he needs to hold it in between his fingers. When she leans over to see the results, releasing him from Soul Sway, he rubs the angry red mark with other hand, smearing the ink left behind.

He looks over her shoulder. "What'd you make me write? 'I hope your nuts fall off,' or 'Eat shit and die?' ..Oh-" Maka leans back out of the way and watches as a small smile twitches a corner of his lips.

"It's even my handwriting," he says, trying to play off his pleasure by changing the subject but utterly failing.

In a small quilted section of paper towel in scratchy blue ink were the words I love you.

"Oi. Found your bra."

"How the crap did it get over here," she hisses.

"Was in a hurry, alright?"

White lace and innocent puppies lay strewn across the piano's keys. Maka worries that the temperature of her face is adding to global warming. "Well, what about the underwear?"

Soul shrugs, trying his hardest to hide the amusement on his face while running fingers through his hair. She exasperatedly snatches her bra and hurriedly goes to her room to toss it haphazardly on her dresser. They were running late. Again. At least he had destroyed his own clock this time instead of her new one. Her school record stands no chance of becoming untarnished any time soon, though she doesn't know why it should bother her as she skipped a class yesterday and today she aims on helping her undergarment-chucking partner cheat on the biggest final before summer break, like the big hypocrite she is.

Hopefully Blair wouldn't wake up and find her M.I.A. panties later.

Opening the front door is like running head-first into a wall of lava. The heat is stifling outside. Soul miserably grumbles while she shoves him out the door while pulling on her gloves. The temperature is worse once they're out from the shade of the stairwell, and she yelps when her bare legs touch the blistering seat of the motorcycle. He looks at her worriedly, but she just maneuvers her trench coat around to sit on, which helps a little.

He speeds, and Maka only lightly chides him through the bond because the wind is a relief on her face.

When they climb the stairs and enter the blissfully air-conditioned building of Shibusen, it's his turn to shove her forward, lazily head-butting her into moving because she only wants to stand still and cool off.

"Come on bookworm, time to take the easiest test of my life. Try not to think too pervertedly, can't promise what'd happen."

Her face is still flushed from his comments by the time they make their grand entrance to the classroom. When Soul strolls in smugly behind her she realizes she doesn't need to be linked to everyone in the room to know exactly what they are thinking. It also clears any confusion when Black*Star jeers loudly.

"Bow chicka wow-wow, what took ya'll so long?"

As soon as Soul opens his mouth, she smacks her hand over it. Maka considers it payback for all the other mouth-muffles he is guilty for yesterday.

"No comment," she manages to say in warning, though to whom she's not sure because she can feel the little bastard's tongue suggestively tracing her palm, distracting her. She should give him all the wrong answers on the test.

Professor Stein whirls around in his chair, rolling towards them and handing them their blank tests. "To your seats. The test has already started. You better hurry," he smiles a shade too sadistically.

Maka frowns, wiping her slobbery hand on Soul's sleeve. Is that a challenge? It sounds like one. Time to collect payment from the leg-flashing show at the library. Taking the paper from him she says, "I'm not worried. I think you'll be impressed with how hard we've studied your content."

Soul stumbles a little on the way to his seat. Stein lightly flicks a notch on the knob on his head in interest.