Title: dinner for three
Summary: Honestly? It's kind of a two for one deal here.
Pairings: WesMakaSoul, crack!Maka/Free.
Author: Pippin, raping fandom's so you don't have to.
Length: 3,609
Contest note: Please go to our Forum if you have any questions regarding our challenge, which totally messed up our thing since now we have to write 101 chapters instead of 100 D:!
A/N (of DOOM): Ok. So frazz issued the challenge from hell yeah? (strip poker, future!fic, bath tub/hairdryer meeting, 4 movie references, bad hair dying, cross-dressing Soul, bad driving, CAKES, impractical Socks, virgin sacrifices, weird/embarrassing things to find under someone's sink, online gaming, a fight scene, getting struck by lightning, bad attempts at philosophy, rape alarms...cannibalism!) And I was all, ok a lot of that's quite easy…BY ITSELF!! But regrettably it had to be together and also had to involve 3 people, those three being Wes, Maka and Soul. Now I was originally going with love triangle, 'cause I love 'em, then it turned into a ridiculously kinky OT3 and practically every scene began demanding steamy make outs and smex so it started getting harder to write and I ended up writing like…a novel basically xD I mean come on, these three in a house together?!
So I cut it short to this and have possibly found the smexiest OT3 out there, SakuNaruSasu and LizKidPatti can kiss my –insert part of anatomy here- for all I care because this is smex. Seriously, by the end of it I was torn between punching Maka out for being so lucky and sitting back and cooing. Maybe I should seek help…
Also, I tried a different style here. It's not my usual quick fire stupidity because I'm going for a more mature approach to humour, I also messed with Wes's character a smidge since he's so vague at the moment I can do that (he's also my (our, I meant our) baby :D), also it's too hawt to be made stupid. Don't believe me?

Read and I dare you to disagree!

"Werewolves are sexy." Soul looked up from his hastily thrown together breakfast and gaped at his meister as if she'd sprouted Black Star's head from her thigh.

"I'm sorry what?"

"You heard me. I like werewolves." Soul looked around the room as if he expected the guy from 'Gotcha' to come leaping out the cabinets, shove a microphone up his nostril and tell him what an idiot he was for buying this.

No strange men leapt out his cupboard.

Soul was oddly disappointed.

"…why?" Maka sniffed haughtily and threw her eyes skyward as if Angels themselves would suddenly descend in shiny glory and deliver the answer personally.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Not really." She flipped her hair over her shoulder in dismissal before sauntering over to the doorway.

"You're too much of a kid to understand Soul," she tossed pityingly behind her as she exited the appartment, "this is an adult thing and you wouldn't get it."

She slammed the door; a portion of the ceiling fell into the weapons cereal coating him in a lovely layer of slightly warm milk.

"I'm nineteen you…you…flat chest!" However the hat-stand did not offer up any witty retorts and Soul mournfully began scooping the remains of his Cheerio's off the floor.

With a depressed sigh the scythe – correction – Death Scythe began hunting around for the mop in the general vicinity, praying that if he just looked gormless enough it would materialize into his depressed grasp.

Recently Maka had been going through…'phases.'

One morning she'd run into his room, poured water over his head and made him listen to a very long boring story about how she'd finally become a woman, discovered her true feminine traits and was going to find her soul mate.

Soul didn't quite comprehend why she couldn't have waited until the sun had at least risen.

Last week it had been vampires, that incident had left Maka in A&E and Soul explaining for several days why they were both covered in hickeys, three days ago it was pirates and now…

Werewolves.

Honestly, if she wanted one that badly he'd of bought her a puppy.

His totally not jealous inner monologue of extreme woe and testosterone was cut short as the dulcet tones of hyper Swedish pop stars emitted from his back pocket.

He really needed to change his ring tone.

"Hello?"

"—days."

"I'm sorry what?"

"—even—ays."

"Who's gay?"

"Sev—days."

"Black Star are you phoning me from under a bus?" There was a pause from the other end of the line, someone snorted and there was the distinct sound of money being passed across a wooden surface.

"…I told you he'd have caller ID."

"Black Star is there any reason you're calling me…also stop changing my ringtone." Said assassin pretended not to have heard the last part.

"There has to be a reason for me to call my best, most loyal, loving, caring friend?"

"Yes." Soul sighed, how he missed normal weekends where it was only evil demonic fiends from history he had to avoid. "Normally it's because you have landed yourself in jail or forgotten how to boil water."

"How rude, I know how to boil water! What god doesn't-"

"Black Star you tried to use a stick of dynamite."

"You mean that's not how you do it?" Soul sighed and pretended he was actually talking to an extremely busty blonde, who oddly enough looked a bit like Maka, and was being offered dinner and many, many naughty things like-

"Was there a point to this or did you just feel like inflicting suffering onto my already unstable mind?"

"Oho! Someone got up on the wrong side of the pinky this morning."

"The pinky?" He could almost see Black Star filling with hot air at being able to outwit Soul.

"You know, wrapped around Maka's little finger and all that jazz."

"Well if you must know she's out hunting werewolves." To anyone else this conversation may have seemed odd, or possibly outright crazy. To Black Star and Soul this was considered a fairly normal.

"Oh. I heard they need virgin sacrifices."

"I'm sorry what?"

"Sacrifices. Virgins. Werewolves."

"I heard you the first time!"

"Yeah, poor guys, where on earth are they going to find a virgin?"

"Um. Hello? Maka?!" There was a series of snorts and the sound of someone leaving the room to go howl outside.

"Oh Soul, you're such a naïve kid!" Soul resisted the urge to throw his cell phone at the wall. He was older than Black Star damn it!

"Maka is a virgin!" he exclaimed loudly, the people walking past in the street stared up at the apartment in awe.

More laughter.

"Yeah. She's at least…25 percent virgin." Soul began wondering if there was some big inside joke he wasn't in on. "Well I was going to phone to ask if you wanted to come have a dude night but since you're only going to bitch about Maka and her 'virginity'" Soul could almost see the inverted commas, "then don't bother, Kilick and I will just party by ourselves!"

"Party?" Soul scoffed, "please. You'll end up zoning out on World of Warcraft for three hours staring at the elves chests!" Which wasn't completely accurate, sometimes they stared at their arses as well.

"And you claim to be a straight kid Soul…"

"I am not a kid!" he seethed, "or gay!" he added hastily. Not missing the snorts from the other end of the line.

"Keep telling yourself that whilst you mop up the floor in an apron." The dial tone echoed throughout the apartment and Soul leaned out the window and stared imploring at the sky.

"Why are you such an asshole?" The sky did not offer any answers.

"You look like crap."

"I love you to Wesley," Soul sneered. His older brother, for some reason covered from head to foot in flour wearing neon orange socks on his wrists, gave him a very amused look before sliding out the way of the entry.

"Maka off chasing merman again?"

"Werewolves…" Soul sighed and accepted the cupcake Wes offered, poking the icing butterfly in misdirected frustration.

"Well at least you'll have a nice throw rug this time round," Wes joked lamely. Soul didn't laugh.

"I don't get it." he admitted slowly, "why on earth is she chasing after all these crazy people anyway!"

"You mean what do they have that you don't?"

"I hate you and your ability to know everything."

"What can I say? It's hard being this wonderful." Soul threw a cupcake at his darling siblings head, the elder Evans ducked, looking suitably peeved when the pastry flew straight through his newly cleaned windows.

"What on earth did you make those out of?!" Soul exclaimed, "Steel?!"

Wes opened his mouth, possibly to deliver a very derogative insult when a pounding knock sounding at his door.

"Who on earth is that?" Soul muttered and Wes glared at him.

"Oh so am I only allowed to get visits from my depressed younger brother who hurls my cupcakes through my windows?! Then complains!" Soul didn't have time to continue with their banter as, speak of the devil, Maka flounced in through the door. How she had managed to get in remains a mystery.

"Wes!" She cried, said Evan's sibling blinked in confusion before Maka had thrown herself against his chest and began sobbing.

Soul began grinding the table into a fine powder within his fists.

"Maka!" He exclaimed loudly, "Wes isn't a werewolf! Get your hands off him!" Maka, as if only just noticing Soul's presence, tilted her head round to stare at her fuming weapon with cool irritation.

"Free issued a restraining order."

"…Free?! Wait. Restraining order?!" Soul was having a hard time speaking coherently and was also turning a rather nasty blue. "What does Wes have to do with it?" he turned his steely gaze onto the even more bewildered older brother.

"The way to a gir-woman's heart is through fairy cakes Evans."

"Evans. Evans." Soul was ready to erupt. "You!" He threw an accusatory finger at his brother, red eyes narrowing with malice, "You're the one that took the 75 percent! Aren't you! Cradle snatcher!"

"Honestly don't be such a baby!" Maka seethed, not relinquishing her hormonal grip on the flustered Wes, "Older men are hot!"

There was a deafening pause.

"Ah, awkward silences…there is nothing I love in this world more, except perhaps getting my toenails pulled off." Soul growled and threw another cupcake at his brother who had no time to dodge and received a nice head full of icing.

"…did you just-" another cupcake hit him square on the forehead Maka, despite herself, giggled.

Wes felt his eye's narrow and before he could even comprehend his course of action, he'd picked up the first object he could get his hands on and hurled it at his brother.

It was unfortunately a rather large amount of cake mix.

The gooey mixture ran down Soul's beet red face, his hands were trembling in suppressed rage.

Wes laughed in triumph, it's not like he had any survival sense in the first place.

"Oh. It's on now."

"Soul don't you da-" Maka was cut off as a rather large amount of left over mix hit her from both sides, Soul gaped in horror and Wes pressed his lips into a thin line, his sides heaving from concealed laughter.

The sudden stillness that invaded the room was daunting, Maka said nothing. She simply shook her now gunk covered hair out her eyes and calmly walked over to the fridge, pulling out a rather large amount of food, sloppy, irremovable stain kind of food.

Soul gulped.

A mass of inexplicable tumble weed rolled across the kitchen floor.

Maka fired, a large amount of green jelly hurtling through the air and splattering on the cream wall where Soul's head had been moments before.

"Hey!" Wes exclaimed before being silenced by another onslaught of pudding.

Diving Soul managed to kick the main table over, creating a make shift barricade as he frantically searched around for ammo.

"Wes, why on earth do you have fluffy handcuffs under the sink?!" Wes turned the same colour as the red jelly before joining his sibling behind their barricade.

"Tell your meister to stop messing up my precious cakes!" howled the poor elder brother, desperately trying to clean the goo out his formally flawless hair.

"Maybe when you stop being a lecherous-OW! Maka that was my eye!" Soul would never figure out how on earth his meister had managed to rebound a cupcake but his sudden exclamation brought momentary calm back in the room.

Wes smeared icing into Soul's hair.

"That," he muttered, "was for the insult to my confections."

Hot showers were nice.

Hot showers meant Soul could relax and be at peace with his inner scythe, hot showers whilst the meister you adored (though very subtly, really. No one had guessed) slept next door, on his brother's bed, whilst said brother was drying his now cake free hair shirtless.

Yeah.

Not relaxing.

"Soul you're going to use up all my hot water!" Soul decided to ignore the statement, opting to turn on more heat for his sadistic entertainment.

"Why on earth do you have such girly shampoo? I'm going to end up smelling like a fruit salad!" Wes huffed and rolled his eyes; Soul spied the movement in the mirror and in a deft movement turned the hose on Wes, drenching the unsuspecting Evan's in icy water.

"You…you…" Soul grinned like Maka had just flounced in naked and the dripping elder sibling suddenly stood stock upright, leant over the rim of the bathtub, beamed like an angel and dropped the hairdryer.

Soul's screaming, not only highly effeminate, made his day.

Then his charcoal, slightly burnt, porcupine style hair do he had to suffer with for the rest of the week made his year.

"You should cosplay Black Star!" Maka suggested in an attempt to be kind when she next saw him; if looks could kill the whole of Shibusen would be a crater.

"You could have killed me!"

"Oh yes," Wes muttered, "the famous Soul Eater Evans, outwitted Medusa, murdered Asura, achieved youngest death scythe and killed by a hairdryer. Right, of course, I'll be sure to send flowers." Maka snorted into her pancakes and Soul mumbled some very foul language he'd of never have used round Shinigami.

"You're an asshole Wesley."

"Wesley?" Maka gaped in horror.

"Shut up Solomon."

"Solomon?!" Soul blended into the now strawberry coloured walls and Maka was gawking at him as if he was a very bizarre animal remain.

"Didn't he ever tell you that?"

"Shut UP Wes." Soul hissed and Wes beamed like the angel he secretly was and took a seat opposite Maka.

"No he didn't. I can kinda see why though…" She shot her poor weapon a half pitying, half amused glance before turning back to Wes – Satan had a face, he wore pink oven gloves – and smiling asked, "what else hasn't he told me?"

"Wes don't you-"

"He used to cross-dress." Maka inhaled her spoon, Soul fell out his chair and the moon imploded.

"Wh-what?" the poor girl managed to croak, after receiving a rather hasty Heimlich manoeuvre from the brothers, Soul was trying to kill Wes with sheer willpower.

"He used to," the elder repeated slowly, "dress…like. A. Girl."

"I didn't!" Soul's voice broke as he shattered the octaves.

"Oh Mama still has the pictures, if you want I can-" Soul exploded out his seat.

"Wes tried to eat his girlfriend!"

"WHAT?!"

"It's true!" Soul was stood up now, slamming his hands off the table and feeling more empowered by the look of growing horror on his brother's face, "he had the marinade out and everything!"

Maka gave Wes a terrified glance and said Evans merely shrugged, composure back in place, as if Soul had just announced he had once pet a dog.

"It was all the rage in Germany," was the only comment he offered.

"You are both insane!"

"No we aren't! We have rape alarms!"

"What on earth does that-"

"Everything." Maka decided to take their word for it and go back to the delicious stack of chocolate covered heaven, pretending that if she focused on the pancakes normality would just catch up to her.

"Well as wonderful as it is entertaining a toddler and an escaped lunatic I have things to do, work, cakes…sex." Soul mumbled something that rhymed with 'Hun in a ditch' into his drink and scowled.

"In that order?" Maka joked; Soul shot her a glance but was to slow with his warning.

"Normally at the same time, I'm extremely flexible that way." Wes beamed, "cake?"

Maka didn't quite understand why she decided to smash all the water pipes in her and Soul's apartment; it certainly had nothing to do with the relocation back into Wes's household.

That's for sure.

He hadn't looked amused in the slightest when two very wet, miserable looking kid's he'd tried to electrocute showed up on his doorstep only a day – hour – after he'd gotten rid of them.

Maka would have been hurt but he had answered the door without a shirt on, honestly if only she could get Soul that well trained.

"You again?" he drawled before stepping out the way, "I was in the middle of something actually," Soul looked up from wiping his hair on Wes's coat, giving his brother a venomous glance.

"We didn't choose to come here you know!"

"Oh. I can phone up Black Star if you'd really prefer-" his hand was reaching for his mobile and Soul quite literally hurled himself at his sibling.

"NO! ANYTHING BUT THAT!"

"Ok." Then quite unexpectedly he added, "Strip poker then?"

"What?" Blair, Yumi and Marie suddenly materialized from around the corner. Maka, never one to turn down a challenge, marched stiffly into the living room after the snickering kitty.

"Wha…?"

"Told you I was busy little brother." He winked, "maybe if you flaunted your looks your darling meister wouldn't be repeatedly damaging your boiler and gallivanting with unicorns."

To this day Soul could never quite work out what he meant and Maka never attempted to enlighten him.

"So, full house?" Maka beamed as she laid her flawless hand onto the carpet, Blair had long been excluded from the game as she took her clothes off at every opportunity regardless to who had won, Yumi cheated and Marie reduced to an blithering idiot whenever anyone had to remove items of clothing. Wes looked sorely disappointed, disturbingly enough so did Soul.

"Again?" Soul groaned, he looked pityingly down at what remained of his clothes and glared at his brother, "I thought you were good at this?!"

"I don't normally play against girls with stupidly high IQ's. It's more fun for me that way." Maka giggled and stared expectantly at the two sat opposite her.

"Come on then I haven't got all night."

"Actually you have two agonising weeks according to your plumber."

"Oh just shut up and take off your pants!" Both boys blinked and Maka began to glow a luminous red in the fading light.

"25 percent…more like 15…"

"Oh shut up the pair of you!" Maka growled, leaping to her feet and storming into the guest bedroom, the door slamming loudly throughout the apartment. Soul glared at the ceiling expectantly.

"Well, that was…enlightening."

"Shut up you perve."

"I wasn't the one having a nosebleed every time Blair took her shirt off."

"Yeah but…you were the one who invited her!" Soul argued and Wes looked momentarily baffled.

"…Touché…" was all he muttered in response, "by the way you might want to book the Albarn in for a hair cut. The red roots are coming through."

"MY HAIR IS NATURAL!"

"Yeah, like Blair's chest."

"Goodnight Wesley." And, as if an added afterthought she went on to say, "Night Solomon!"

Soul and Wes both looked at each other, a twin look of mischief on their faces, only their mother (and the opposing sibling) had the right to call them that.

Before the poor meister could blink the door was open and she was being tangled in a array of limbs, flung backwards onto the guest bed with an Evan's on each arm, breathing as if she'd just ran a marathon.

In unison the brothers leaned in close, warm breath tickling the skin of her petite ears and whispered, "Goodnight."

She didn't sleep a wink.

"HOLD ME!" Maka grunted as Soul practically flew into her lap, burying his head into her collar and looking anywhere but the screen in front of him.

"Soul get off!" The air whooshed out her lungs as her weapon clung to her like a koala, Wes began eating her popcorn.

"Ssh," the elder Evan's chastised, "I'm trying to watch this." The screen flickered with a scene change, going from one horrifically bloody road, to the next one with a brief round of heavy metal.

"Oh it's not exactly in depth Wesley!" Maka snapped around her mortified scythe who only griped her tighter when she tried to move, she wouldn't have minded had certain people not decided to climb into her bed and keep her up all night by breathing into her ear and wrapping their arms around her…she was just going to stop there. "He's killed some guys, so has he and they are both trying to prove they have bigger penises than the other! How is that involved?!"

"Sexy women?"

"In bikinis!" Soul chimed in, feeling the strong urge to reaffirm his masculinity whilst cowering in the little girl's lap.

"I am surrounded by idiots…" Wes's laugh was cut short as he was once again distracted by another spontaneous gun fight that seemed to revolve around who was sleeping with the 14th girl in a leather miniskirt.

"How do they even move in those?" She wondered out loud, Soul braved a glance at the screen and Wes seemed to be considering the question.

"To prove how badass they are, the smaller the amount of clothing a girl fights in, the sexier and more hard core she is." Soul nodded at his brother's seemingly infinite wisdom, Maka gave the smartarse a glare.

"Then why aren't the men running around in boxers?"

"Because that would be silly," he paused, "and not very sexy."

"It would be for me…" She griped, sighing as the film reached the overused emotional scene, it was somewhat ruined by the way Soul suddenly moved his grip to her waist and Wes absentmindedly started playing with her hair.

It made it very hard to sympathize with Mr. Macho and Comrade Beefy.

"Tch." Soul scoffed, finally able to look now that the bloody remains of school children had been removed from his vision, "how on earth do they expect us to believe he's driving that car on a roof whilst making out in a thunder storm and not getting hit by lightning?"

"Well he is a badass?" Maka offered. Soul and Wes looked at her carefully. It was like being in school again, when the two people you admired the most finally noticed who you were and started considering letting you into their circle.

"Yes." Wes agreed as Soul shifted against her side, the elder draping an arm round the back of the sofa and pulling the pair of them in tighter, "exactly right Maka." That was the first time he'd ever said her name and, as she snuggled further down into the embrace of the most insane siblings she knew, Maka decided she really liked it.

A lot.

Two for one, not a bad deal…

A/N: (nose-bleed) damn you Albarn...