AN: Rated M, be warned, this chapter is sexual and mature. Just Soul and Maka burning off a little steam and taking an evening to indulge in a little oral. Probably not as well written as previous stories, but definitely as mature; nothing but smutty, plotless smut. This is one of those chapters that has nowhere to lead and nothing to add to any storyline or background, just another "what if" between the lines.


Just Desserts

Soul leans against the kitchen entryway, watching his Meister at the sink, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows, washing dishes. He's a little drowsy from the day, and knows she is too, both of them lazily aware of the other and enjoying the awareness. He's already showered and changed his clothes, for once free for the moment of homework, training, or missions. Maka hasn't bothered to change yet, having made, eaten and now cleaning up dinner almost fully uniformed. She's hung up her coat and removed her sweatervest and tie, loosening her shirt a few buttons, but otherwise she looked like she could walk out the door again any minute. Soul leans his head against the wall, roving his eyes down her perky frame. He loves her uniform, probably always has, and he'd like her to be relaxed for the night like him, but he's certainly not going to suggest she change her clothes.

She finishes her last couple dishes, setting them aside to dry and turns off the sink, drying her hands. She peers at Soul over her shoulder, grinning and giving him a look he's come to recognize instantly, mostly by the clear hum it sends through his soul and the electric jolt it sends to his groin. He pushes himself from the wall and comes to her, embracing her from behind and running his hands languidly over her shoulders and sides and hips. He presses his face into the back of her neck as she giggles softly, leaning into him and reaching back to run her fingers through his warm, thick hair. He presses kisses into the hair at the nape of her neck, coming round to kiss along her jaw and then her lips when she turns to meet him.

Their experiences with each other intimately have grown so much over the last several months, they've come to reach a certain balance, a resonance of heavy petting and frequent visits to Third Base that has him instantly hard and her openly erotic. This time is no different, as he kisses her tenderly, enthralled without agitation by her simple, nonchalant and open affection. Her lips are thin, and soft, a contrast to the loud and commanding voice she often uses, especially with him. She offers him tongue and he happily accepts, overtaking her mouth with his own monstrous one but she rarely has any complaints with it. They're both flushed and breathing solidly through their noses, and she gently, repetitively, grips and releases his hair, and he loves it.

She pulls her lips back for a moment, leaning away just an inch to keep him from following as she breathes against his panting, only-slightly-drooly mouth, "Would you like to do something for me, Soul?"

Maka's voice reverberates through his pulsing blood and he can't control pressing his hard-on into the crease of her rump, hands reverently massaging over her long, firm belly and over her warm breasts. She hums and fists his hair a bit more, holding her other hand firmly over one of his. He buries his nose into her neck, nuzzling under her collar, kissing with teeth and then moving up to kiss hard and open mouthed on her little jaw as he mumbles, "Mm, probly, what's it?"

They're both too distracted to care about his amazing word-skills at the moment.

"I want you to go down on me."

And it's Maka who's always been the best speaker of the two, anyhow, as Soul groans against her jaw, his own voice vibrating through her mouth and neck, and she kisses his lips wetly as he tries to reply and remember how to breathe at the same time. Every time she lets him so much as touch her like this, it makes his head spin.

"Here?"

She knows he's referring to the spot they're both currently standing in, just as they both know neither of them have the teenage braincells to spare to make it somewhere else. He laves his tongue along the side of her neck, looking for a good spot for a hidden hickey, fully enjoying this whole situation. Soul is not at all against going down on Maka anywhere, anytime - hell, even if he had an audience, as long as Maka enjoyed it.

"Yes, please." Is her simple affirmation, and he presses his hard-on into her again, giving her hips a squeeze.

She moans throatily, and it goes straight through his balls, and he twitches in his pants as he drops to his knees, kissing down her back and spreading heat as he goes. There's no hurry as he flips her skirt up, juggling between keeping it out of his way and pulling her panties down her legs, already pressing his nose and hungry kisses onto her amazing, tight little ass cheeks. She's so tiny, so much power in such a small package, but the curve of her ass is perfect. He releases her skirt as he runs his hands down her flushed legs while he drags her panties slowly down her skin. He kisses over the appearance of any stray scar he comes across, reveling in each one for the mark that it is, the stories of her triumphs and experiences written on her skin.

He squeezes his fingers over the fronts of her powerful thighs, down her knobby and insanely sturdy kneecaps, then over hard shins - all anatomy that he's been familiar with in varying capacity for years now, and it never ceases to stir him with awe and lust both. He kisses hotly down the backs of her thighs and knees as he works her panties over her boots, grinning against her skin because she's still wearing them in the first place. Her disdain for sparing the time to remove extra accessories turns him on as much as the image of her in her ass-kicker, metal covered boots, sans panties.

He has to adjust himself through his sweats as he works his lips back up her legs, listening to her soft encouragements and breathy sighs above him. She's leaning as comfortably as she can on the edge of the sink, dish towels under her elbows for cushioning, and he asks her if she wants to move somewhere else while he undoes the tie on his pants and tilts his head around her hip to study her flushed face. He's not sure he can stand up again, so close to one of his most favorite places in the world, but if she asks him to he'll move to the ends of the Earth if necessary.

Maka doesn't seem uncomfortable enough to move, and she confirms this after he asks, and he grins as he settles back into his task, his pants now pushed down and one hand lazily fisting his weeping dick through his boxers. He's still got her panties in his other hand, and as he lifts her skirt over her bottom again he has to redirect precious brain power to resist pulling his dick out and rubbing her panties over it. He's not sure what her reaction to that level of perversion would be if she caught him, so he distracts himself from the desire by burying his nose into her.

She moans an encouragement again, and he moans into her soft mound, nosing her wet lips and taking deep breaths of her heady scent. His tongue wiggles into her folds and presses against her clit, wetting it and drawing soft circles around it, savoring the tiny smoothness under his sensitive tongue. He works open mouthed kisses over the soft, trimmed curls of her outer lips, nuzzling with his own against her inner folds and then sucking gently against her labia, pressing into her as she presses back into his face. He can hear her rustling fabric somewhere above him, and he assumes she's probably working at her tits by now, tweaking her nipples as he rubs and pushes his tongue into her entrance, slurping and drinking with relish and no small amount of obscene noises and moans - most of which he does on purpose because he knows it pushes her buttons, in all kinds of cheeky ways.

He loves her taste, can't get enough of just drinking from the source, the taste and feel and smell of her all combined together against his tongue and lips drives him crazy. He wants to feel every groove, and dip, and wet inch of her inside and out under his tongue, wants to go down on her for hours, wishes they had time so he could. She's insanely sensitive and responsive, and her noises make his ears ring while her thighs in any other position nearly suffocate him, and he loves every second of it. He was afraid he'd never learn to keep up with her, to pace her, but he gets better every time, and she wields her desire for him and her pleasure from him like she wields his scythe - powerful, competent, humble and brazen.

He can't resist bringing up a hand to work long fingers into her, reluctant to lose the source of her wonderful nectar, but also too excited to resist the amazing feel of her, hot, tight and soaked on his hand, and the incredible noises and reactions he gets when he fingers her. He runs his other hand up her leg, getting leverage on her hip and pushing her skirt back up out of his face, her panties still clutched in his fingers. Her legs are bent wide over him, and he bends a little between her knees to get at her clit with his tongue again, trying to keep room for both his fingers and his mouth, although from the back in this position it isn't easy or quick. He's in no hurry, though, regardless of his aching erection, and he rubs her hip lovingly, panties twisting with his fingers and bunching up with her skirt until she reaches down, peering around her arm and mumbling to him.

"Ahhh, here, sorry - mmm - I'll hold those f'you."

He curls his fingers for her, pressing deep and firm, and moans his reluctance against her as his other hand regretfully releases the panties she's gently pulling out of his grip; although she nearly drops them and forgets altogether what she's doing as his fingers and tongue coil her pleasure tighter and tighter. Soul finds just the right places to add his curved teeth, and she croons with pending carnal relief, a sound she knows he likes. It's almost enough to make her forget to file away her observation of how reluctant he is to give her back her own panties. She wants to tease and niggle him for this observation, but she doesn't know language right now except his name and yes, more, Death, right there. She's so close, they can both feel it, hear it in her singing soul and crooning moans.

Maka's fist clenches the garment in breathless lust from his attentions towards suckling her clit and finding her g-spot. As soon as she'd started this level of intimacy with him, he'd quickly become adept at seeking out the hidden gem after she'd mentioned it to him once or twice, almost off-handedly. She hadn't expected him to be so devoted to finding so much pleasure for her, but really, she should have. Soul was nothing if not unaccountably devoted to her - as his Meister, his closest friend, bearer of his soul, and now the Girl who fools around with him. Maka had learned over the years that though it was not unusual for a Weapon to be devoted to their Technician, Soul Eater had taken it upon himself - mostly by his nature (she'd deduced), and (she suspected) a bit by his upbringing - to be loyal and devout to an almost suicidal and masochistic degree.

He never lost his individuality for her, but he was rarely above being a doting partner, regardless of whatever show he put on to ensure his coolness stayed intact in the process. It was really rather endearing and heartening, not that most people outside their Shibusen lifestyle would probably agree.

It was also extremely sexy, as he tightly sucks her clit between his lips, flicking it alternately with his tongue, fingers still working hard and deep and curled just right, barely missing a beat inside her. He was always up for a challenge, and he certainly wasn't letting this one go without a fight; Maka knew this position would be a bit uncomfortable for them both, his knees and his hard cock must be killing him, but that was part of what made it such a huge turn-on for her. She thrusts back against his fingers, trying to keep tempo with him as her orgasm builds, hotter and hotter, roiling her lower belly in the best way, and she tweaks her nipples with one hand, desperately gripping the edge of the sink with the other. Her legs are starting to burn from holding this position, a pleasant ache of exertion for a good (great) cause. She can't stop the moans of Soul's name, and he knows she's close now, as he hums and twirls his long tongue in too many places, like he can flatten and push and lave all of her at once, even with his strong fingers in the way.

He pulls a move he doesn't often use on her, giving her three hard and perfect thrusts as he gives her one firm smack on her bottom, and it's the last thrust and lips and tongue pulling at her clit that finally send her over the edge, careening over a canyon with a sweet descant to accompany the fall. She feels more than hears him moan his own joy against her, fingers keeping up a hard, fast tempo until her orgasm becomes too intense and he backs off, as he's learned to do, slowing his strong digits and circling around her clit gently to coax her pleasure to a humming buzz. She can barely breathe, and her legs twitch and muscles tighten, close to cramping, and she can feel Soul's breath panting against her as he slowly removes his fingers, and she knows he's licking them clean, has watched him do it before. She can't stop the pitchy, breathless moan that escapes at the memory before she feels his tongue again, gentle and loving, cleaning her all over and her smile is wider than the Nevada desert.

As she comes down from her orgasm, she slowly shifts her legs back together, straightening a bit and feeling the stretch and burn in her thighs and knees. She tosses her panties to the side to drift onto the floor, ignored for now. Soul shifts around on the floor below her, stretching his legs out one at a time, still pressing hot, tongue-wet kisses through her clothes all over her lower back and hips as he moves. She's vaguely impressed he hasn't fallen over yet, as he stretches his legs out, big hands stroking madly over her sides, back, rump, and his dick. She giggles at him softly, eyes drooping with contentment as she feels him nose under her skirt again. Her afterglow lull is rudely interrupted as her Weapon sinks his great white teeth into the swell of her ass. She squeals and reaches back to smack him hard in the side of the head, a lot embarrassed, a little turned on, and a bit in pain.

"Would you stop that!" She admonishes, blushing furiously anew and glaring at his big, messy grin. "You mouthy, cheeky little porbeagle!"

He laughs at her insult, rubbing his cheek against her tight bottom.

"Yeah, but your cheeks are the best." He goads, teasing her in several ways with just the one innuendo.

Sometimes, it really annoys her when he's clever. It doesn't stop the smile, or the satisfaction, that rolls through them both, as she turns around in his hands, bending to meet and devour his clever, snarky, dirty mouth. She licks his lips, and he pants hotly against her face through his nose, groaning wantonly and squeezing his dripping cock with negligible frustration. It's a testament to their times together that he doesn't come two seconds in, anymore. His damn knees hurt so bad they're practically numb, but the urge to stand before she's completely done with him doesn't even cross his mind. Especially as she starts talking against his mouth, something he loves and hates at the same time.

"If I'd known you were only going to be more of a pain in my ass, I never would've let you start going down on me." She grouses, though her orgasm-rough, airy voice does little to portray any real annoyance.

"Yeah, you would've," he rumbles thickly against her lips, running his tongue over them and pushing into her mouth - just to be pushed out again, her own more petite tongue trying to reach his tonsils before he pulls back to finish teasing her, "even Maka Albarn can't resist my level of bad-ass coolness."

He's grinning and reaching around to grope her bare flesh under her skirt, but Maka can always sense the well-hidden, barely perceptible, fluctuation of precarious self-esteem and image issues in his wavelength, the sensations he keeps buried under his youthful wild streak and mature loyalty. Sometimes she wonders if he ever realizes how often he seems to seek his closest peers' approval, even from her. She steps in closer to him, pressing her body against his torso and tangling her fingers through his hair again to pull his head back further, forcing heady eye contact. She smells and tastes like him, his spit and her sex, and he's still flushed pink down to his neck, and she's willing to bet he's probably still harder than rock, though from this angle, she can't really see the tent from this height.

She smiles to him fully, openly affectionate and unabashed by it, and she can tell by his bright red eyes, blown pupils and relaxed face that he sees it, and her heart jumps at the returned affection. She steps back a bit from him, leaning against the sink without releasing his hair as she drags her eyes blatantly down his body, admiring the straining attention in his comfortable boxers. She likes to watch him watch her from the corner of her eye, knows they both love it, and she runs her hand up her stomach under her rumpled, half-open shirt to palm her own breasts. He licks his lips and grunts a low, approving hum as he watches her, running his own hand over his clothed cock. Their eyes meet and she just enjoys the contact for a moment, pinching and pulling her nipple gently over the cup of her bra as he breathes deeply and swallows drool watching her.

With a grin he calls satisfied and wicked, so unlike his usual sweet-hearted Meister, she gives his hair a directive pull, guiding him to his feet. He is a doting partner, indeed, but she is not above doting on her Weapon. He's so good at everything he does, and it's a power in its own right, one that she loves to share with him, a power she enjoys displaying when she has a craving for the feel of him in her mouth, his most intimate skin on her tongue, the heat, the taste. He stands obediently, suspecting what's coming, but never expecting it.

She slowly goes to her knees, running her hands down his chest and taking time to enjoy his warmth, his solidity. She leaves kisses here and there on her way down, nuzzling his belly and hooking her fingers into his waistband as she comes to rest on her knees. His hands gently, warmly, rest over her shoulders, fingers brushing the back of her neck. He sighs out a breath he'd forgotten not to hold as she pulls his boxers down to meet his pants on his thighs, then pulls both gradually to the floor.

Green, burning eyes watch his anticipating red stare as he's released from his clothes, as she all but ignores his exposed cock for the moment of eye contact, wicked and knowing. He swallows thickly again, pent up and panting, and he tries to keep his cool when he can barely find his voice.

"You know you don't have to do anything, it's not tit for tat."

His growling but gentle words are unintentionally undermined by the precum that drips from the head of his shaft, and Maka's gaze drops to watch it before lifting back to his face with a hungry grin. God, he'll never get used to how raunchy she can be; he'll never complain, either.

"You know I don't do anything I don't choose to. I happen to enjoy this, it's not an obligation."

Her tone is firm, still breathy from her orgasm, but clear and concise as it ever is in the middle of class. He's pretty sure it's weird a combination that his wet dreams are made of. Warm, softly calloused hands run up his thighs to grasp his balls with a grip like his steel, and he can't find his voice again as he softly protests,

"Oohhh, yeah, but, you - "

"Soul Eater." She commands, and he has to bite his lip hard to stop from coming, "Shut up, and let me enjoy myself."

His voice is strangled, tight, and reverent as she rolls and massages his sac, her other hand firmly coming into play around the bulk of him and turning his mind further to mush as he croaks, "Yes, my queen."

He hadn't meant to use the teasing, old pet name again so plaintively, he'd meant for it to be more sexily snarky, but it left his lips the same as his sanity is quickly leaving his brain. Maka doesn't seem unsatisfied with it, however, as she hums approvingly in the back of her throat, lowering her gaze once more to watch the proud presentation of his attraction in front of her. 'Standing at full attention' is putting it mildly, and she's as proud as she is aroused at the reaction she causes in him. Her mouth waters, and all for the better, as she laves her own wet tongue over the palm of one hand, running it down his length from base to head, and Soul moans deeply. She's still a little awkward and embarrassed with the technique, but she learned quickly that the perversity of it, and wetness from it, gets Soul going quick and hard, so she employs it and gets a little less embarrassed each time.

She does the same thing to her other hand, and then once more, until her spit and his own precum have given him a nice lube for her to glide her hands over. She pulls and squeezes him from base to head a few times, watching the flushing red beneath the skin of his legs and pelvis and the flush of his cheeks that rival his scarlet eyes. "Haaahh.." he exhales shakily, as she takes the head of him into her mouth, gliding it against her tongue as she sucks gently, still pulling from his pelvic to her lips.

Soul sets his legs a little wider, trying to sturdy himself against his quickly crossing vision and the desperate desire to thrust into Maka's mouth as she works into a steady, deliberate rhythm. He imagines the sensation of pushing all the way into her hot, wet mouth, feeling her tongue and the back of her throat - maybe even a little scrape of her teeth - and he uses the real sensation of her wet hands on his shaft to fulfill the fantasy, unwilling to take any control away from his unpredictably sexual Meister. She gives a small, satisfied sound of approval as her hands yield more flesh to her mouth, and her tongue does insanely limber and pulse-pounding things to the underside of his dick. She closes her teeth at intervals around his shaft, just touching enough to feel the pressure more than the scrape, before sealing her lips to suck hard on her way back before gliding forward again.

Loving, shaking fingers run reverently through her hair, his other fist clenched tightly at his side, as Soul bites his bottom lip as he moans through his nose with ecstasy. She is too good to him, she's too much, he can't take much of this tonight. She's barely started for him, but he's already so worked up from going down on her, the smell and taste of her still all over his mouth and in his nose, and when he looks down to meet her blazing, aroused gaze he just about loses it right then.

"Haahh, God, Maka... I - "

Her hands have moved from his shaft to holding his hips, and as he tries to find the words to ask if she wants to take her time or wants him to finish quickly, she nearly pushes him over the edge like the over-excitable teenager he is, as her lips meet the base of his cock, nose buried in the trim carpet that matches the drapes. An animalistic growl he can't stop escapes his throat, and his fingers momentarily tighten in her hair, unable to stop himself before it happens. The sensation and pleasure that throbs into his balls curls his toes into the linoleum and he pitches forward the barest inch, nearly toppling over Maka's head. She sucks hard on the base of his dick, dragging her mouth backwards, tongue dragging along that vein the whole way. The pressure as she reaches his head is just short of his impending orgasm, and he sucks in a shocked breath as her mouth disappears completely before his body can really finish sending the signal to come.

He hears her wet one of her hands again and feels it on his cock, stroking firmly but a little more gently as her mouth moves to nuzzle and lave open-mouthed kisses across his testicles, his eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to keep them from bulging out of his skull. She moans happily against his skin, an echo to his own wanton rumbles, warm breath cooling over the saliva she's so expertly learned to spread on him.

"Goodd, Maka, I'm not gonna make it much longer.." he huffs into her hair, as he bends over to kiss her head, cramping his abs a bit but so worth it to smell her hair and kiss her head again before he has to spring back up to relieve the cramp.

He watches her watch him as she licks more dripping precum from his slit the way he's watched her devour ice cream for years, whole-hearted and so satisfied, and groans again, so happy she's in to letting him see her like this. She doesn't reply to his desperate warning, but continues to lick and suck at the sensitive slit of his cock, sucking and kissing and gently biting down the head and down his shaft, suckling and licking his balls in turn. She takes him all the way into her mouth, practically down her throat, one more time, and spasms start through his abdomen and now he can't hold back even if he wanted to. She feels him tense under her lips, pulls back enough to give his seed room in her mouth as his sac pulls up and he feels his orgasm crash over him, throbbing through him and into his best friend's mouth as he feels her tongue all over the underside of his dick as he comes.

Soul roars her name, moaning as each wave erupts from him, filling Maka's mouth. She's never been fond of the after-taste, but before it hits, the flavor is actually quite pleasant, and his orgasms are always intense and satisfying for them both. She's often dubious of his descriptions of how much he loves the way she comes, but if she's anything like he is when he unravels for her, she can kind of understand why he makes such a big deal of it. His thighs are flexed as if he's supporting the weight of a mountain, toes curled into the floor as if he could grow talons to keep himself from floating away from Earth, and she tolerates a tightened grip into her hair as his other hand holds onto her shoulder for dear life.

The thrumming and buzzing that flows between both of them during moments like this is nothing short of electric and soul-searching.
She loosens the vacuum she'd created around his shaft, gently suckling down his length and back up again as she swallows a not unsubstantial load, moaning gently around his flesh as he heaves for breath above her head. She kisses and strokes gently all over his hips, and pelvis and sac, nuzzling and showing the same affection and attention he'd given her not minutes prior. His legs gradually relax, and he leans over her again, gently nudging her head up to kiss him, running fingers apologetically through the hair he'd gripped a few seconds ago. She returns the kiss deeply, always a little surprised but equally turned on by his unchaste willingness to run his tongue everywhere in her mouth after she's sucked him off. She holds his cheeks in her hands, kissing his nose and smiling widely at his blazing face, kissing him tenderly one more time before she dips away from him again.

Soul blinks blearily, languidly watching her as she begins pulling his boxers and pants back up his shaking legs. He smiles as he realizes what she's doing and stoops to help her, helping her back to her feet when they're done. Maka groans in good-natured discomfort as the pain in her knees finally breaks through both of their hazes of arousal, and she begins to second guess oral sex sessions in the kitchen. Maybe she'll buy cushions for the kitchen chairs; they always were a bit hard to enjoy breakfast on, and having extra cushions nearby has proven useful recently.

Soul's hot breath in her ear, nuzzling and kissing her cheek and neck, brings her out of her revelry and she brings her shoulder up with a smile against the unexpected ticklishness of his warm, heavy breathing against her flushed and sensitive ears. He laughs at her reaction, wrapping his arms tightly around her and pressing her hard into his solid, lithe body, reverently reaching down to fondle the still naked globes of her bottom. She squeals a soft giggle and gently pushes at his chest, trying to steer him out of the kitchen with admonishments about staying up late and early mornings. He presses back, unwilling to separate from her and possibly gaining a second wind to go down on her again, trying his damnedest to convince her of letting him do just that.

Whispered promises of lingering lips, hot tongues, and deep reaching fingers aside, though, they really do need to get to bed. She hadn't intended on dragging the encounter out, but she'd been wound so tight all day, and Soul has shown nothing but supportive eagerness since they'd begun being intimate together. She swallows his promises for later, whispering threats and coaxes of her own, steering him via his palms over her breasts atop her rumpled clothes out of the kitchen and towards his bedroom - where, much to his shock and chagrin, she deposits him with another kiss and a giggle as she skips out his door towards the bathroom to clean up and get ready for bed. Soul blinks at the empty space where she stood seconds before, still basking in the heat and splendor of their escapades in the kitchen, complete with a goofy grin that can't be wiped away, even under threat of cool-factor revocation.