A/N: Happy April 1st-FOOLS!

Thanks to l0chn3ss, rebornfromash, and ilarual for the eyes, and a special second thanks to Laura for the awesome title—that was allllll her.

I should probably also thank my husband for entertaining my absurd curiosity about male pissing habits, but he won't read this anyway.


So maybe drinking the super gallon-sized soda before the movie even started had been a bad idea, but they were sharing and Maka drank like a dehydrated camel during a movie, so ensuring both a timely refill and that he was properly hydrated had seemed like an excellent idea at the time.

Except now the previews were going, and Soul felt like he was going to piss himself. He had to act fast if he wasn't going to miss the movie, so he shot up and, at Maka's questioning look, murmured the word "bathroom," before vaulting over the seat into the empty row behind them and sprinting towards sweet relief.

Just their luck to be in the theater furthest from the restrooms, but he had time, he'd be fine. He kept his walk brisk but casual, and finally made his way into the blissfully empty men's room to choose a urinal towards the end. Situated properly, he was just unzipping his pants to free himself when he was startled by the pounding of feet, looked over his shoulder to spot a flash of black and blue, and then, almost jumped at a hand on his shoulder even as he heard a zipper.

"Aw, you too Bro? Better hurry, movie's about to start," Star said over the loud stream of pee that had begun pouring from him. For his part, Soul simply snapped his jaw shut, stared straight ahead, and wanted to die

How did his so called best friend not know basic urinal etiquette? Rolling up next to another guy in an empty bathroom was tantamount to blasphemy, and putting a hand on his shoulder was beyond fucking creepy. Soul tried to ignore his friend, to tune out the stream of pee still flooding the neighboring urinal and the hand that finally moved off his shoulder. He was still attempting, unsuccessfully, to force out his own flood when he heard footsteps to his left and snapped his eyes over only to snap them back front and center.

"Soul. Black Star," Kid said mildly. "Would you two mind moving two urinals over so that-"

"No," Soul snapped, causing the reaper to make a pained face that the scythe just spied in the mirror before sighing and unfastening his pants to begin his own stream. Soul heard his other friend getting to relieve himself, and he needed to go so so badly that it hurt, but it just wouldn't come because fucking Kid and Star were now flanking him. He was sandwiched between two guys in an empty fucking bathroom-who the hell did that?

Fucking Death Children, that's who.

Or maybe fucking narcissistic-would-be gods with their heads up their own asses and fucking obsessive-almost-gods who couldn't bear not being grouped symmetrically.

Soul willed himself to go, tried to force his bladder to cooperate yet again. He couldn't. For as much as he desperately needed to relieve himself just as his friends were already doing quite successfully and prolifically on either side of him, it simply wouldn't come.

Fuck.

"Aw man, I shouldn'ta drank that whole soda," Star grumbled beside him, still blissfully emptying his clearly full bladder. Fucking asshole.

Kid sighed. "Perhaps eight small sodas were a mistake as well," he said mildly as his own stream continued.

For another minute, there was silence but for the constant flow of urine on either side of him as he kept willing himself to just go already. Then he heard a cough.

"Dude, you gonna piss or what?" Black Star side-eyed him as he continued to go. "You just standing there holding your dick is weird."

"I'm done," Soul snapped, zipping up his pants pointedly and walking away. These two were clearly never going to leave, and he was going to miss the fucking movie if he hung around. He was a big boy-he could hold it.

He practically sprinted back to the theater, the movie credits just starting, and sat next to Maka with a sigh.

Normally, he loved going to the movies-he got to sit with his meister and imagine it might be, could be, sort of like a date, what that might be like as their fingers grazed in the popcorn bowl and she let him put his arm around her-so when Spartoi had collectively decided on a bonding movie night after retrieving Kid from the Book, something to make them all feel just a bit more normal, well, Soul had been all for it.

That was before. But now? As the overwhelming need to pee had him squirming in his seat, he wanted to curse every member of the elite squad, Kid and Black Star most of all, because really, what the hell?

Five minutes passed, then ten. The action on the screen was less than compelling, but even were it stunning, he still wouldn't have been able focus on it amidst the overwhelming pressure from his bladder. He tried not to fidget too much but he was far from succeeding, earning him the occasional confused look from his meister before she would return to blissfully munching the popcorn he was far too uncomfortable share.

Fifteen minutes passed, then twenty. This was bad. This was very, very bad. Sweet Shinigami, he was going to piss himself. He glared at the back of Kid and Star's heads-they had long since returned, relieved of the burden he still carried heavily. Far too heavily. His squirming escalated unbidden. Fucking hell, why couldn't they have just left him alone?

Thirty minutes passed. Soul was starting to sweat, the pressure overwhelming. The movie was a blur, there had been no subtle finger grazing, no unacknowledged cuddles, only him and the most urgent seated pee pee dance of all time.

When Maka finally whispered softly, leaning his way, it was unsurprising.

"Hmmm?" he answered.

"Are you-" she hesitated, and he caught the confused frown on her lips in the flickering lights from the projector "-okay?"

"'M fine," he grunted.

"Because you look like you-um-need to go, but you just went, so I'm-"

"I told you I'm fine!" he snapped, his bladder surging anew with the need to release the pent up fluid.

"Then why are you doing the pee dance in your chair?" she snapped back.

"I'm not-" his voice was even-barely.

"You totally are!" she hissed back. "Didn't you pee during the previews?"

"Not-exactly," he admitted with a sigh.

"What do you-"

"Look-just-Star and Kid came in, and I just couldn't."

She turned her head to him fully and blinked, long and slow. "That makes no sense," she said finally.

"They broke the rules, okay? They stood next to me in an empty men's room, and I just-"

"But men always pee next to each other-" her confusion was clearly mounting.

"Yeah, when they have to, but there are-well, you don't stand right next to another guy in an empty bathroom. It's rude."

She was shaking her head. "Rude or not-which sounds absurd by the way-you should have gone. Come on then," she said, standing and hauling him to his feet, "let's go. Until you deal with this, neither of us will be able to enjoy the movie."

Soul sighed. His first instinct was to protest, but he didn't want a scene with his meister in the middle of the crowded theater, aside from which, he really did need to go. He let her pull him up and out of the place amidst scowls, grumbles, and a shouted "get it!" that came from the vicinity of a certain blue-haired meister.

Bastard. It was his fault Soul was in this mess to begin with, his and Kid's. Stupid bloody socially oblivious not quite gods. Irritated, the scythe pelted the back of his soon to be ex best friend's head with a stray empty box of Mike n Ike's he swiped from a seat, then swaggered after Maka, attempting to ignore the fact that his swagger probably looked pathetically like the Gotta Go Shuffle.

It was but a minute before he'd been dragged to the bathroom, and was that a line for the men's room? Fuck. Fuck. He drifted miserably towards the line, but Maka grabbed his elbow, tugging him in the other direction.

"Wha?" he side-eyed her.

"Ladies room," she explained. "There's no line; girls are smart enough to go early, and not to drink a gallon of sugary crap before the movie even starts." Her smug look was infuriating and, because he was that far gone, absolutely adorable.

He groaned. "Maka, I know I wear a headband and all, but in case you somehow didn't get the memo, I'm not actually-"

Maka cut him off, waving a dismissive hand. "I'll scout it out and sneak you in-it'll be fine."

He groaned again, but made no further protest, because his need for release was reaching critical mass and arguing with her was more likely to get him chopped than to get him his way in any case.

They approached the forbidden door and she halted him and peeked in, then moved back to say quietly,"Okay there's a woman at the sink and one stall occupied, but I think that girl is going to be busy for a bit, so once the first one comes out, you go in, and I'll let you know when it's clear to leave."

He shook his head, his dignity requiring him to at least make one last effort to avert this impending disaster. "Maka, I should just-"

The woman who must have been at the sink came out then, and the meister cut him off.

"Go!" she commanded, tugging him by the hand through the door and into the sacred girl space wherein he had never intended to tread. Unshockingly, it looked pretty much like the guy's room, only with red tile instead of blue, and more stalls where the urinals would normally sit in a neat line. It also smelled godawful, and he suddenly understood why the remaining woman wouldn't be a problem. Maka shoved him unceremoniously into an empty cubicle, pulling the door shut between them before standing just on the other side.

"Now go," she hissed, but before he could even so much as lock the door, he heard footsteps and an all too familiar laugh, and stifled another groan.

"Hey, Maka," Kim's lilting tone floated through the space. "Better hurry-it's just getting good!"

"Yeah, I was just about to, thanks," she said brightly as the footsteps continued to draw nearer. Maka pushed open and shut the door quickly before gesturing frantically for Soul to stand on the back of the toilet.

He reluctantly complied and, as he did, wondered how the fuck they'd gotten to that point as Maka hovered weirdly next to the porcelain contraption he was now trapped crouching on, trying to make it look like she was sitting. The odd position gave him a rather clear view down her v-neck shirt and to the lacy little pink bra he now knew she was wearing, her modest cleavage spilling into his view, and the fact the sight of it could stir things that had no business being stirred when he was about to piss himself was a testament to feelings he'd been trying to hide since they were fourteen, but which were doing him absolutely no favors in this situation.

What a clusterfuck.

He heard the two other women each take the stall on either side of them and wanted to die.

Could this get worse?

The urge to piss surged anew and he started to squirm on his precarious perch. Maka turned towards him, face flaming, and mouthed just go, before turning pointedly to stare at the wall. She had made sure to stay clear of the actual toilet while oddly crouched just before it to appear sitting from the outside.

Yes, yes it could.

Just then, he heard Kim's lilting tone echo through the space. "So Maka," she began, along with an audible stream of liquid, and Soul went scarlet because his Spartoi teammate, his female Spartoi teammate, was pissing next to him. "When you and Soul disappeared together, I thought maybe, just maybe, you'd both caught a clue and were holed up in a closet somewhere. Guess not."

Wait, what the fuck? What in Shinigami's name was Kim on about, and why the hell was she talking across the stall as casually as if they were at lunch? Was this some weird girl ritual that he wasn't privy to, or a weird witch thing about which he was equally clueless? Either way, seriously, what-the-fuck?

"And just what, exactly, is that supposed to mean," Maka asked tightly, the skin of her neck and chest going even more red. From his vantage point, she was beginning to resemble a tomato, an angry, shapely, smokin' hot tomato.

"Just what it sounds like, Albarn. You two are fooling exactly no one with your 'just friends' act. Heard you were like clones of each other in the Lust Chapter, even Dense Star caught on."

"That's-absurd-" Maka sputtered, and the red was darkening to something closer to purple at an alarming rate. Soul felt pretty mortified himself between the words and another stream of piss starting from his other side from what he could only assume was Jackie. His meister turned back to him and mouthed, fucking go already, angrily, presumably because he was squirming again, before turning back to face the door once more.

Fuck fuck fuck. He'd take being flanked by the Great Gods of Piss and Obliviousness a million times over this hell. He unzipped his fly so she'd at least know he was trying to comply, poking his poor confused dick out just enough to execute the task at hand, and willed himself to go.

"Oh-just leave her alone, Kim," he heard from the other stall, Jackie finally confirming her presence. "It's really nobody's business what other partners do together in their spare time."

He kept willing himself to go, but it wouldn't come as much as he was desperate for release. With two female friends and Maka right there, he just couldn't.

"It's not like the whole school doesn't already know they're going at it like rabbits," Kim snapped back. "I mean come on, he almost died for her, and no one touches that much if they aren't already screwing."

Soul went scarlet. Well, more scarlet. How had he earned this hell? Maka had gone fuschia beneath him, and it was really, really starting to worry him.

"Soul and I," she gritted out suddenly, her voice low and seething. "Are not screwing." The distaste with which she spat the last word cut right through him because while it was true, they really weren't, for his part, he really, really wished they actually were. "Do I need to challenge you to an official fight to get you to cease spewing your ridiculous assumptions, or is this the last I hear of this nonsense? Because we both know I will win in a fight, with or without our weapons."

The stream of liquid where Kim's voice had come from cut off suddenly, and there was an audible swallow, a clearing of the throat as she said quietly, "I'm done," before he heard the rolling of toilet paper, the shuffle of cloth being adjusted, the flush of one toilet, then another. Not another word was said by anyone as doors were opened, sinks used, footsteps heard retreating from the space.

Maka whirled on him when the other two were finally gone, only the mystery shitter who continued to fill the room with stench still remaining. He barely shot a hand down to cover his exposure in time as she growled, "Fucking go," before moving out of the cramped space and slamming the little cubicle door behind her.

Epic fucking disaster. If Star, his brother, hell, anyone could see him, he'd be a laughing stock the rest of his born days. Soul stepped awkwardly off the toilet with an audible sigh and finally, finally was able to pee, the loud, powerful, unending stream arcing gracefully into the toilet like the bridge to the land of he was totally fucked that it represented. Sure, Maka could hear, but Maka had heard him piss a thousand times-the walls of their little apartment weren't exactly thick. Maka. Who was was clearly fuming: he really didn't want to know what she was going to do when he-

The thought was cut off by a laugh, high, musical, damned near hysterical. It was his meister's laugh unmistakably, and he frowned as he continued to relieve himself, the built up liquid making for an epic release. He forced out the rest in a steady stream as her laughter continued to grow, and by the time he'd zipped up his pants, adjusted, flushed, and walked out, she was at the sink, holding the lip for dear life with one hand as the other clutched her side in a vain attempt to contain her mirth.

Soul quickly rinsed his hands in the sink next to the one she was clinging to because, at this point, he figured if someone walked in, it couldn't be worse than what he'd already faced, then tugged on her elbow.

"Maka," he said quietly, afraid to alert the woman who must be sick in the far stalk-fuck that smell was awful-but Maka just kept tittering. "Fuck, Maka, I'm leaving."

"But-" she managed, gulping in breath, straightening herself to look at him. "Buuuut-" she sang, her laughter still bubbling. "They think-they think-" she struggled to get it out amidst chortles and panting breaths. "We're screwing!" The laughter bubbled over again, and Soul began to panic because they needed to get out of here-now-even as his heart sank to his toes because she thought the idea of them together was that absurd. "As if-" she continued to choke out, shaking her head. "As if-Mr. Cool Guy-Death Scythe-would sink to-to-sleep with his tiny tits meister!" She lost it again at the last, and Soul shook his head, in disbelief, in frustration, as he finally just grabbed her elbow to drag her bodily from the women's room.

Of all the ridiculousness they'd just faced, that was what had her in stitches?

Fuck, that was-well-how completely off she was almost had him laughing, it was so absurd. Clearly what happened in the Book hadn't been enough to show her that those years of teasing were just him being a confused little adolescent shit trying to hide growing and awkward feelings. Looked like he'd have to work harder to make her see the truth, to make up for years of being an ass. If nothing else good came of this complete shitbath, then that, at least, was something.

By the time Maka calmed down enough to go back to the theater, the movie was almost over. Neither was too broken up over it-it wasn't all that good to begin with-and they never spoke of the bathroom debacle again. Soul also took to pissing in stalls whenever in the presence of any and all deities, refusing to live through any sort of rerun of the Great Pee Caper.

Back in the women's room, a giggle was heard as the toilet of the long occupied stall finally flushed and Patti Thompson sauntered out, filing away this new bit of ridiculousness for later use-though whether for hilarity, blackmail, or helpfulness even she couldn't yet say.