Well, guys and gals, the adult content is finally here. So, warning: there's some sex stuff ahead. Enjoy!

Finals are obviously one of the worst times for college students but Soul was suffering from a substantially different set of finals blues. While Maka had not been the best co-sleeper, especially with that hair that he seemed to find plastered on every part of his body and the way she required that they were touching at least fifty percent of their bodies, Soul had cherished every second of it. It had been hard to fall asleep not because of discomfort but because of the absolute level of satisfaction it had brought him.

But there was no way Maka Albarn could be convinced that during finals week Soul should be allowed such a luxury, considering both needed to be well-rested and on time for their tests. Even worse, it meant quick coffee breaks on campus or maybe catching a meal before Soul was cut off again. But, really, it was four days of finals, he should have been easy for the man who had always before been about the hook-up, right?

By day four, it felt like his phone was glued to his hand, waiting for the sporadic texts she'd gotten so well at sending. He was on the bus, just having gotten a seat and settling when he felt the long-awaited vibration.

"Good luck on your final final!"

"Was that a typo?" he teased back before shooting out, "You don't need any luck, Maka, but stay calm, stay happy. I'll be waiting when you're done." There was a pause and he stared at the screen willing it to produce something before flipping it back over with a sigh. Damn it, am I fucking doomed.

Two stops rolled by before the buzz again. "I have to help Tsubaki pack/leave. Meet me tonight at the dorm. Bring stuff to sleep in. Stay over."

His eyes had to peel over that three or four times before he allowed the elation to hit him. Somehow he hadn't even begun to factor in the alone part, but just the idea of a planned stay, not over some crisis but just because was saturating him and untying muscles he didn't even know had been tight since this sequester began.

It wasn't until halfway through his final that he realized the other fact: the dorm was empty. It brought a heat to his face that made him sure they'd cranked up the temperate in the room itself. It was a hard second half of his exam.

Soul had packed his backpack, not with study materials like usual but clothing and assorted toiletries. He had ridden the bus on pins and needles and had tried to wait patiently for her to come down and retrieve him. He made sure to kiss her softly as soon as the elevator doors closed them into a little privacy, his lips lingering in an attempt to steal away all the affection he'd missed.

As soon as the doors opened he forced himself back into some level of reality, clearing his throat. "Tsubaki left right away, huh?"

"The flight back to Japan is pretty long and they cut finals pretty close this year, so she was out as soon as she could." Maka flashed him a smile before focusing on unlocking the door, pushing into the suite with Soul hot on her heels. Even in the instant privacy the suite allotted them, Maka brought him back to her room. "I picked a movie if you want."

"Sounds good." He tossed his backpack to the floor by the door. He had opted for comfort right away, sweatpants and a t-shirt under his common, constant leather jacket. He tossed the jacket on top of the bag before turning to find her kneeling on the end of the bed, her laptop open on the desk with the copyright warning queued up.

As soon as she felt his weight hit the bed, Maka clicked play, easing herself back until she found him and pressed her back against him, his arm wrapping around her to pull her to his chest. "How did your finals go?"

"Agony," he leaned his cheek against her hair. "Next semester, I request at least one make-out session per final because, honestly, not only do I, we deserve it, but it's hell, Maka."

Maka rolled her eyes, "Your finals, Soul, the actual tests."

"Tests were fine, but my complaint still stands." His hand eased down her back. "How about you?"

"I never want to see one of those little blue booklets again," Maka groaned.

"You're an English major," he laughed in return.

She tilted her head upwards enough that her huff drifted warm against his neck. "I know."

Concentrating on anything happening on the screen was impossible, only her breath on his neck mattered. Each one intensified that tingle in his stomach, the ache he was starting to feel with his entire body. He had to ask himself that question again, one that he seemed to ask almost every day now, does she even know what she's doing to me? The answer had to be yes, but if it was Maka really must have a mean streak, unfair, cruel even.

Her lips touched just to the left of his Adam's apple and Soul couldn't stop his breath from hitching, his hand instantly clenching in the back of her shirt. Maka angled her head a little more before placing kiss after soft kiss, a slow traveling line just below his jaw. She stopped just below his ear long enough to whisper, "What if we compromise?"

"What?" Soul sounded as if he had snapped out of a dream but his body was still drunk on the leftovers, his hand flexing into her back while that slow spread of ache had turned into a riptide.

"If you wait until after finals you get more than just making out." The words were barely out of her mouth before her teeth gently plucked at his earlobe, her hand starting to linger down his chest.

Soul wasn't proud of the sound he made, probably the most guttural groan that had ever escaped his lips. He tried to recover himself with a breath but it felt useless, his words still coming out as a whisper, "Please tell me that means I can touch you."

For a second he was afraid that was the wrong thing to say, feeling her face moving away from its hiding spot, her body leaving his side, but she was really just sliding herself over him, straddling his lap so they were face to face. "Take it slow, OK?"

"I can do that." The reassurance was half for her, half for him. Soul cupped her cheeks, pulling those roaming lips back to their home. There was nothing that he wanted to do more than to slow down each movement, to memorize how each millimeter of her skin felt against his. One hand drifted to her throat, keeping her mouth where he wanted it while the other lingered to her waist, finding where fabric met skin and easing under it, tracing the line of her stomach.

His fingers didn't get very far before she pulled her mouth from his and his heart leaped, afraid she was pumping the brakes again. Instead, the fabric gathered up and over his fingers, her separating from him enough to remove her shirt. He clutched at her hips, bringing her towards him while steadying himself to sit up. He didn't wait for her lips again but returned her favor from before, planting hasty kisses across her collarbone while his needy hands slipped from her hips to the clasp of her bra.

"Your shirt," she whispered between gasps as he punctuated his kisses with nips of his teeth.

"In a second." It came out half as a growl as he struggled through the last eyelet of her bra, feeling the fabric slip from his fingers. He pressed a victorious smile to the skin at the edge of the last of the fabric that was slowly slipping off her top. Soul tossed the obstruction, his hands easing back to her sides. "This I really want to take slow." It wasn't a touch, a kiss, but a lingering look, his eyes tracing the lines of her body until a blush rose on her cheeks.

"Come on, Soul," it was nothing close to exasperation she was trying to convey, instead a soft embarrassment, a little of that self-consciousness leaking in. Her arms started to draw away from him, hands ready to cover.

"Don't you dare." He made quick work of grabbing her hands, bringing them back to his chest. "I thought I gave you this lesson with your fingers. Do I have to add on?" He forgot all about her request again, a hand drifting up to cup her breast. "Honestly, don't think I can do it justice, but if I have to, I'll try to describe how absolutely perfect-"

"Alright," a short laugh escaped her mouth, the tension starting to evaporate. "I believe you."

"Good." He hovered in towards her but found her bending back.

"Not until you…"

Soul chuckled, begrudgingly detaching from her enough to slip his shirt over his head. "Better?"

She leaned into him, their bare chests pressed tightly. He held her there until he could feel the rest of her stress melt away, his hands roaming her now bare back, making detailed memories of her skin. "Why does this feel so good?" she murmured against his skin.

Contentment stretched across his face as a grin. "Because it's with you."

"And you said you weren't romantic." It was a slow peel from his chest, bringing her face back to his so she could see if kissing him topless would make it as stomach flipping as she expected. She wasn't disappointed, especially as his hand slipped from her back to cup her breast again. Those touches were tender, slow, more feathery that she was used to and she found herself leaning into him, putting force into each revolution of his hand.

Soul released her mouth, drifting his lips back to their previous spot. He used that kneading hand to guide her breast to his mouth, sucking gently before letting his tongue roll over the tip. Maka seemed to bite back a sound, but her hips rolled against him and he had to cough out a groan as he released her from his lips. He moved to her other breast, repeating until he grazed over the nipple with his teeth, this moan slipping past the guard of her teeth.

Maka's hips ground against his again, reminding him of how delicious friction like that could be, forcing another pause for a sigh. But there was also a desperation building because, damn it, how close was he? Just from her pressing, needing hips and the taste of her skin, he was already well on his way to his endpoint. He was aching, even the sweatpants feeling constricting in his current state, and he'd already felt that tightening tingle in his legs. He tried to steady her with one hand on her hip but as soon as he toyed with her breast again those hips moved without much he could do to stop them.

"Take off your pants," it wasn't half as demanding as the shirt order, but her hands were there, tugging at a waistband that didn't have a lot of power to stay put. She had hooked into his boxers as well, getting them half over his hips.

Soul had practically zero resolve to stop her, but even as he lifted himself so she could follow through, he forced his voice through the haze, "I, uh, it's not just going to be me, right?"

"You first." She was tossing his pants and underwear aside, hands drifting up his legs and he felt his knees tremble.

With all the self-control he had, he put his hands over hers, stopping the drift. "I don't do this unless it's both of us." God, if there was any way to kill the mood here it was, and there weren't words for how much he wanted this but it had to be right. "I'm not saying sex, but both of us are, well, whatever you're about to do you better expect to get it back."

She smiled, a sweet sigh coming from her lips. "OK, yes, but you first."

"Fuck," was all he could manage. He tried to grab her shoulders and pull her in to kiss him again, but she was much more intent on the rest of him. One hand still drifted along his leg but the other had clutched the base of his shaft, angling it as she lowered her head to meet the tip with her lips.

Sounds were not his usual especially in these situations were disturbing a roommate or a dorm was a possibility, but as her lips descended he had lost all sense of propriety. He groaned again, with just as much enthusiasm as the last, and sunk his fingers into her hair. There was an epic battle in his mind because he was partially sure he wanted her to slow the fuck down, to give him a chance to hold out a little longer, but that other half was ready just to know what it was going to feel like this time because there was no possible way this wasn't going to be the best.

Soul moved one of his hands from her hair and slipped it down her chest, his fingers grasping her breast again, the soft feathery touches from before becoming needy. She moaned softly but the sound reverberated through him, making his hips buck and that familiar tightness starting in his legs. "Maka, I'm, fuck," as if he could form sensible words while her tongue was shimmying along his shaft with another stroke from her lips. That battle was nonsense now, and as he squeezed at her nipple to elicit another groan from her he felt it, that radiating spark starting from his tip and sending a shockwave into his gut.

That groan bounced off the walls as his legs trembled as they tensed through his climax. It just wasn't possible. None of this was possible. He was with a girl he was starting to, you know, care about and she'd just… blew him away, horrible pun intended. And even with his orgasm, there was this terrible need growing inside him. Not only could he not wait to return the favor, but he couldn't wait for it to happen again, to touch, to feel this on a new day, to experiment with how he could touch her.

Just, don't go anywhere, is what he wanted to say. Don't leave me, don't go, just let me do this and everything else forever. With that thought ringing in his ears, he pulled her to him, crushing against her mouth, trying to transfer those words and thoughts to her through his tongue lingering on hers.

He trailed his fingers down her side until he reached the waistband of her pants, frustratingly pulling at the zipper after ripping at the button. "Switch," his voice sounded strained, husky as if his groans from before had left him hoarse. Maka let him roll her over, for a second almost toppling off the small bed before he grabbed her, pulling her into the space he vacated. He sunk to her side, propping himself on his elbow, his other hand drifting down her stomach.

He pulled at her jeans and she helped him, kicking them off to the floor. Maka went to slip off her panties but his hand came to hers. "Not yet." While his had been quick, cumming a little too swiftly for his ego, Soul was trying to keep himself at a leisurely pace. His aim wasn't necessarily to tease but to prolong, to make sure she felt everything that he so desperately wanted her to.

Soul started by tracing the lacey lines of her panties with his finger, his mouth kissing a pathway from her lips to her chest, enjoying each hitched breath along the way. Just as her legs started to squirm he ran his hand between her them, pushing the fabric into the gentle V, meeting the pressure created by the buck of her hips. Her fingers tangled in his hair, a long, slow sigh escaping her lips as he latched on to her breast with his mouth, teasing between sucking and a soft nibble.

His mouth stayed where it was while his fingers moved back to the band of her panties, sliding his hand underneath. He slid two fingers between her lower lips, slickly gliding over her clit and opening. He repeated this process, slowly without too much pressure, just enough for her to let out a quivering moan, her hips starting to press to force the contact.

"Harder," Maka's whisper was desperate.

Even being spent he felt a wave of desire wash over him, that breathless voice of hers making his stomach flip. It was as if he wasn't going to listen, his fingers moving away from her core, but only long enough to finally relieve her of her panties. As he brought his fingers back to her, he slid them over her again and allowed them to slip inside of her, hearing the gasp break from her lips. She thrust her hips to push him deeper and he flexed his thumb over her clit as she moved. Little breathless gasps and short sounds escaped her throat and Soul couldn't stop himself from turning his eyes to her, watching her flushed face.

He tried to kiss her but she simply gasped against his lips. Maka's rocking motion started to quicken and he joined her in the rhythm, swirling his thumb in swift, urgent circles. As her hips buckled a low, strained moan started to leak from her throat, drowning out the sound of her fingers clenching into the sheet. He pressed against her lips to swallow the tail end of it, to try to taste it off her lips.

Maka was barely off the high of her finish before he was whispering in her ear, his arm pulling her around the waist. "Don't get dressed, OK?"

"Hm?" She felt delirious and must be, that request seeming so strange at the moment.

"Trust me," he murmured again before pulling his head out of its hiding spot, staring her in the eyes. "That was, it was just… Maka, it was perfect."

"I'm glad." And even with her nakedness, the smile on her face didn't seem self-conscious, a hand leisurely coming to his face, clearing the hair back with her fingers. "I'm sorry I made you wait."

"Don't be," he murmured. Soul turned his attention back to the rest of her for a moment. "Though, I'm hoping that means we get to stay at this stage."

He watched the laugh flex the muscles in her stomach and he ran a finger playfully over them, watching as they constricted again. "I think it's safe to say this can be the new norm."

"You're beautiful." To punctuate he kissed the delicate skin of her collarbone before turning his face back to her. He wasn't trying to be cute, or romantic, just compelled by the way all of this was seeping into him. The only compulsion he had at that moment was to lay there, to run his fingers along her skin and memorize every inch. Even stranger, it was the need to settle into whatever feeling this was that drove him to hold on to her tightly until she complained about the need to sleep. At that moment he thought it might be adoration or infatuation, that concept that Kilik had struck on so many nights ago still something he was completely unaware of. He wouldn't be for long.

When her phone buzzed first thing in the morning, Maka was expecting a cute quip from Soul. Instead of a wide smile, a grimace met the screen, her father's all caps message illuminating the screen. "PICKING YOU UP IN 30." Which meant he was already on the road, not a question but an order. Exactly how she wanted to start her morning.

It was just her dad, so the best she had to do throw up her hair and brush her teeth, but that wasn't the biggest concern of the morning. She had hoped for at least one last kiss, or possibly another blush-inducing moment, with Soul before he went off to what he considered hell. Now she had to add to the bitter reality with a phone call. The ring went on long enough that she was sure she wouldn't even get an answer, but just before the cut off she heard it connect, the sound of sheets and blankets rustling on the other end.

"You OK?" His voice was thick with sleep but still sweetly keen with concern.

"Yes and no," Maka grumbled.

"I'm getting up." There were the sounds of the movement of blankets, his feet thumping on the floor.

"No," she groaned out the vowel. "Don't bother because my dad's now magically picking me up in 30 minutes."

"No," he echoed. She could hear the distinct thump of him falling back on the bed.

"I know." She made her own thump as she sunk defeatedly into the couch. "So, a week?"

"A whole fucking week," Soul groaned back. "But I'm not staying a minute longer, and as soon as I'm back at the house…"

"I'll come by." That thought at least elicited a small smile.

There was a pause on his end, his throat clearing. "Maybe you can stay here for a night or something."

"Or something?" she teased.

He chose to ignore her. "I'll make breakfast."

"I don't know. How good are you at breakfast?"

Soul mused for another second, the amusement saturating his voice. "I'll put it on level with piano."

Maka grinned, "Impossible, but I guess I'll see next week."

"Next week," he groaned back.

It wasn't enough to make her laugh, and her smile started to dissolve at the next thought. "Soul…"

"I'm going to be fine." It was borderline a whisper, not exactly filled with reassurance, but it was the smallest attempt. "And I'm going to call and text and tell you all the ridiculous things my family does and how I acted appropriate and calm in the face of each one."

"You swear?" She wanted to be hugging him right now or looking into those wine-colored eyes, feeding off of their intensity.

"Pinky swear," that pleasant amusement was back in his voice. "And when times get hard I'll think about that cute sound you make when I-"

"Soul!" He thankfully didn't finish, the blush on her cheeks deep enough without it.

"I just don't want you to forget that most of all I'll be thinking about you." He laughed, but it wasn't humorous, more a huff of air in disbelief. "That sounds lame, sappy, I guess, but I, uh, I'm happy being with you, Maka. That's what I want to think about."

"It's not lame," she murmured, that warm fluttering igniting in her stomach. "I'm happy, too." Her eyes glanced dismally at the clock, feeling the weight of each tick. "I should go."

"Wait," he murmured. "You're going to be fine, too, alright?"

"I…" she started but stopped, wishing that their thoughts were still centralized on him. She had done this purposefully, kept all of this closed because worry about her never seemed useful.

"I feel like it's always me, but I know that stuff with your dad, the fact that you never even mentioned your mom, I know that's there, Maka." He cleared his throat again, treading lightly thrown out the window. "This goes both ways. If you need me, I'm there."

She could barely manage a word, the shock of it all just sinking her deeper into the couch. "Yeah." She had been careful, smooth, only letting him see that dad stuff once and sweeping the rest of it under the rug. All he'd gotten since then was high-strung school Maka. His defenses had crumbled while she had carefully kept hers intact, but suddenly she was feeling the hint of it disintegrating. "I'll be fine."

Soul seemed to huff in reply, "And if you're not?"

"I'll tell you," those words came weakly from her throat. She couldn't. What they had was going so well and those details, that destroyed side of her would simply bore him, disgust him, make him realize she was a handful and not worth the trouble. She had to push away the reality that there was a chance he could care enough that it wouldn't matter and live in the fantasy that she could keep all of this from him. Fantasy had always been easier for her.

"OK," he sighed. "Go get ready for your dad. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Alright. Bye."

"Bye."

Maka let the phone fall in her lap. She tried to concentrate on the anxiety-producing idea of her father picking her up but she couldn't get past that last unexpected part of her phone call. She'd had gotten so well at hiding behind protecting Soul, helping him be better, and now she felt see-through, her guts on display.

Her mom wasn't going to be there, hadn't even returned her phone calls which she guessed lay in a piled-high to-do list that somehow she never made the top of. Her father was going to come to pick her up but then alternate between smothering her with attention and being busy with work himself. Spirit promised Christmas for sure, but everything else would depend on if cases came in. To tell the truth, she knew Christmas wasn't even a definite. She was going home to be lonely again and she hadn't told him a word about it.

But in some impossible way, as if he could read her just by proximity, he knew at least a piece of it. Somehow she wanted to tie this into her caving on the physical intimacy, that in the end, she had to admit she had wanted so badly to have and had almost, just almost, thought about pushing him all the way. Instead, Maka had to admit that this was how life worked: you date and each of your sets of baggage eventually has to come to the forefront. But it was too soon, she wanted more time before this was over, before he left her while she was already starting to feel so desperately… to care for him.

The phone buzzed, the steady pattern of a phone call and she turned it over, seeing Papa. She didn't bother answering it, just pocketed her phone and grabbed her stuff. The death march might as well have been playing as she trudged the entire journey to the front, seeing him standing outside of the idling car. Spirit probably hadn't slept in days, but his chipper exterior always shown around his only child. "Hey, kiddo!" He went for a hug but at best got an awkward squeeze of her shoulders.

"Hey, Papa," she tried to insert some kind of artificial enthusiasm. Those gears were still turning on her last thoughts, so the effort felt enormous, tiring.

"Ready to go?" He took the bags from her hands, hoping that at least taking that weight would lighten the mood he already saw on her.

"As far as I know." She smiled softly and opened the back passenger door for him to throw in her bags before opening her own and slipping in. The back door slammed only a second after hers and she watched him stroll around the car, hands stuffed in his pockets against the cold. She had to snap out of it, or Spirit would-

Almost as soon as he got in, his door slamming behind him he started, "If this is about your mother…"

Too late, here it was, the usual ride. "It's not," Maka tried to sound informational rather than annoyed.

Spirit started the engine, flicking the car into gear before speeding off with his usual amount of recklessness. "If she wants you to visit for part of the holiday, it's not a problem, but she should at least let me know beforehand so we can plan."

As if I'm a child that can't make decisions and plans of my own, thanks. "I actually haven't heard from Mom." Maka was proud of the coolness in her tone, the way she instantly resisted the urge to tear up.

"Well, that's your mother for you," Spirit cursed through clenched teeth.

Maka forced her eyes out the window, trying not to see the way that statement had fed Spirit. He loved not being the worst of the two parents. As if his presence was enough to give him some kind of upper hand. A sigh forced between her lips and she prayed he didn't hear it, didn't notice. Thankfully, he was silent, the only sounds the road and his fingers absently drumming on the steering wheel.

Soul had left the toddler-grade-pouting Black Star at the house and trudged to the car that Wes had sent to drive him. It was ludicrous; he could most certainly take public transportation, but of course, any Evans was too good to take the train. With enough begging, Soul caved.

He had wanted to stop by Maka's but her father had picked her up early that morning as if to spite him. This morning, before she left, was when he had planned to - what's the best way to put this - tell her he knew her dirty little secret or secrets. She'd been so amazing to him and he'd greedily allowed himself to bask in that care while she was obviously drowning. It was another step in the Better Soul program she had inspired: reunite with Wes, get his life together, be an actual partner to Maka.

This was supposed to be the first exposure to partner Soul, but he'd had to truncate and rush through it just at the end of their phone call. It still left him feeling selfish and, damn it, was that the worst way to start this week. And even better, he'd have a full four-hour car ride to do nothing but dwell on those thoughts.

OK, no, you can't do that, he ordered. Instead, he took out his phone, clicking on her name. "Thinking about you already." We all know that half of what we do is a self-fulfilling prophecy, so as soon as the message sent his mind drifted off to late-night bike rides, pink dresses, and the way she fit against him while they slept.