A/N: I had posted these on Tumblr already, and had forgotten about them almost until I stumbled upon them in my documents. Enjoy!

Drink Me, Version A

Black*Star was drunk. Though not as drunk as his friends; not that this was a surprise. Being the superior man he was, he was bound to tolerate alcohol better than Soul or Maka, the pussies. Only Liz came close to being a serious competition but she was already passed out somewhere. Oh yeah, she was on the ratty couch, snoring loudly and drooling onto a pillow.

They had all decided to let a little loose and Maka agreed to have them all come over to their apartment. What she hadn't known was that, they'd all bring lots of booze. Being the uptight little bookworm she was, Maka had initially protested vehemently but now she was one of the most shitfaced here. Well, Soul and she were about equally shitfaced, Black*Star would say, relying on his superior skills of perception.

He lazily gulped down the rest of his beer, watching Soul and Maka acting like dumb, giggly teenagers. Well, they actually were teenagers with 16 and 17, though they were never this giggly. Black*Star frowned as Maka unabashedly put her hand on Soul's thigh, making Black*Star turn a curious shade of green as his childhood friend's/sister figure's fingers travelled higher and higher.

Wait, wait, oh─no, she wouldn't! Oh, damn, she totally would!

Black*Star wrenched his eyes away from the mentally scarring sight of Maka cup Soul's junk. Black*Star decided not to flip his shit yet. They were drunk and fooling a little around, nothing big. That and they had known each other for so long, there was nothing wrong with what they were─

Wait, did Maka just moan?!

Taking a shuddery breath, Black*Star reluctantly looked back at them, only to screw his eyes shut.

He really really didn't want to see Soul and Maka suck faces like that ever. He made a clumsy grab for another bottle of beer, haphazardly opening one, not caring what type it was. He grimaced at the taste but he was still far too sober to deal with this kind of shit.

"Like this, Soul? Do you like that?"

"Mmm, Mmaka."

Urgh. He was definitely going to retch. He had already finished a half of the bottle, feeling slowly but surely the alcohol taking its effect on his bloodstream, his cheeks flushing, his mind dazed pleasantly. Ah yes, he'd just drink enough and not realize anything that was going on around him. Well, he was of course the great Black*Star and he could deal with whatever life decided to throw at him, but he'd rather opt to ignore that Soul and Maka might be in the process to get down and dirty on the living room floor right next to him.

"Hah, Soul...yes, please."

What the─

Black*Star stood up immediately, his head spinning and he almost crashed down again. Keeping his eyes closed, he shouted. "Okay, I'm going home! This place is not worthy of my presence anymore. GOOD BYE, PEONS!"

It was as if his sudden exclamation had the effect of sobering everyone up. Soul and Maka stopped their gross heavy petting, Soul having to wrench his hand out of...urgh, noooope.

The two lovebirds just stood up, Maka waved at him with a giggle, muttering a quiet goodbye before Soul dragged her down the hall. Black*Star stayed long enough and watched them retreat into Soul's room to see Maka slap his friend on his ass before the door shut behind them.

Standing there for a few seconds, contemplating his life choices and if perhaps bleach had more promising effects of erasing entire memory sequences from his brain than booze, Black*Star shook his head and grabbed Tsubaki, hauling her tall body over his shoulders, his knees trembling a little. He didn't even look if Kid and the Thompsons were back on their feet too, because he was hearing things coming from Soul's room, he'd rather not be hearing right now or ever.

Amuse Me

Black*Star, age 7, was a lot of things. He was to surpass the gods and he was immensely strong and would only grow stronger until the universe had no choice but to implode because there was nothing the almighty Black*Star could not handle.

Until the day, Maka started to cry in front of him, which was silly and unrealistic to begin with because as far as he was concerned Maka was one of the boys and boys didn't cry. (He would always insist that on the day she had kicked him between the legs because he had been pulling her pigtails all the time to tease her, had been tears of anger. Sometimes he'd say he got something in his eye.)

Nevertheless, here he was now, the Almighty Black*Star and this girl, Maka, his best friend since he could remember was bawling like a baby. Black*Star wasn't an idiot and he knew he had to do something and cheer his friend up or at least make her stop crying.

So he pulled her pigtail. She rubbed her eyes and stared at him and he almost winced. Her eyes looked like those marbles Sid refused to get him, big and glassy and green. He frowned, clenching his fists at Maka's hiccuping sobs. This wouldn't do! He was destined to surpass the gods!

He poked her in the stomach.

Maka sniffed, blinked owlishly when he poked her again, this time a bit harder. Hah! He won! She would stop crying right now! But then after a few minutes of silence, she gulped and the tears the rolling again.

"Oi, stop crying," he said, desperately trying to sound like the awesome and dignified guy he was.

"You...you're so mean. And stupid!" She looked up and punched him in the stomach with her tiny fist and kicked his shin.

"Hey! What the hell? I'm trying to help you and you just hit me!"

"Help me? You're not helping," she squeaked, hitting him again for good measure. "Mama and papa hate each other. They were arguing and screaming all the time and mama...mama, she said she was sick of papa and that she was going to leave him and never come back."

Her voice cracked and she whimpered, hastily wiping the stubborn tears in her eyes with the back of her sleeve, but new ones only replaced them. In the end, she gave up, sniffing and sobbing, her nose running.

For the first time since he could remember, Black*Star felt helpless. He didn't like this feeling. But whatever he tried made her only cry more. He patted the pocket of his pants.

"Don't leave, okay?" he said.

He didn't wait for her answer and went into the ice cream parlor and bought Maka's favourite ice cream with the money he had secretly put aside so he could get those awesome marbles. He got the family party pack, which was a huge bucket with lots and lots of vanilla and strawberry ice cream. If that didn't cheer Maka up then nothing would.

When he got out Maka seemed to have calmed down a little though she still looked sad and ready to cry again. He thrust the bucket out to her and she cocked her small head to the side questioningly.

"For you," he said. "Now stop crying."

For a moment, Black*Star thought she was going to punch him again but she then she gave him a watery smile and rubbed her eyes free of her tears.

Drink Me, Version B

Soul was a responsible drinker. Usually. He wouldn't allow himself to get so drunk that he'd lose all brain function and end up like one of those gross, hiccuping drunks with slurred speech. Usually.

Soul could not give a shit about that right now. He wanted to drink until his brain stopped working completely. He was still far too sober to deal with this. His cellphone vibrated in his pocket; he patted it momentarily, fully knowing that it was Maka calling him, being her usual worried self. He tried to ignore his phone but then he fished it out only to turn it off completely. He knew there was going to be hell to pay, but that was also something he couldn't give a damn about right now.

He didn't know how much he had had to drink already, he had lost count after his third? Fourth? Fifth? He felt a little dizzy and his skin was warm and clammy, his heart ached, constricting in his chest as he gulped harshly. He ran a hand through his hair, inhaling the fumes of the smokers were leaving behind with each breath he took.

If Wes was here, he'd surely reprimand him and make jokes at his pathetic expense. Soul gritted his teeth. Stupid Wes. He was so perfect, unlike him, the laughing stock of his family. There wasn't anything Wes could do wrong.

Even though he resented his brother, Soul couldn't help but admire him as well, even if he had never properly expressed his admiration towards Wes.

Soul didn't know how much time passed, he spent in this bar wallowing in self-pity but it had to have been long enough to make Maka so worried that she left the apartment to look for him. Much to his shame he didn't even recognize her immediately when she talked to him, looking kind of angry but mostly tired and apprehensive. He had believed she was another chick who wanted to flirt with him. He snapped at her, his speech slurred and incoherent.

"Soul, how much did you have to drink? We need to go home and you still haven't packed your stuff."

He groaned pitifully, banging his head against the counter. He winced. "Leave me alone."

She sighed, putting her hand on his hand, stroking his hair. He wanted to tell her that he was no dog, but at the same time it felt nice, comforting and he could just fall asleep right here.

"I know it's not easy but we have to go home, Soul. The...the funeral is tomorrow. We need to get ready."

He sat up, his vision blurring and he liked to pretend that it wasn't because of the tears that were stinging his eyes, but because of the overabundance of alcohol in his bloodstream. He snarled out another curse and slapped her hand away, but then he realized he hadn't cursed or snarled, but sobbed. He barely registered Maka's arms coming around his shoulders to steady him, helping him to stand on wobbly feet before they slowly managed to get out of the dingy bar.

They didn't make it far. As soon as they were outside, he stumbled against the brick walls of a building, his stomach twisting and churning, and he just wanted to throw up. His breath rushed through his teeth as he wheezed out a weird jumble of apologies and insults. The cold evening air felt harsh against skin, but Maka's hands were warm, and her eyes gentle and big and a little comforting as she embraced him tightly.

"I'm so sorry, Soul."

His own limbs came alive, his arms winding around her slim waist as he cried into her shoulder, his tears hot and lheavy as they were imprinted on his cheeks.

"I was always...such a brat to him," he whispered lowly.

"Soul," Maka began, firmly, pulling slightly away to look him in the eyes sternly. "Don't...don't be like this. Your brother loved you."

"I never told him...I ran away, never talked to him and now...now he's dead."

He couldn't deal with this. His spine tingled at the thought of a funeral tomorrow, of his big brother's. He didn't know how he was going to do this. He couldn't even stand on his feet! He was truly a pathetic loser and wanted to run away again, not face the reality of the situation, the finality of the burial. Maka could only pet his hair and whisper soft nothings into his ear as he freely mourned over the loss of his big brother for the first time since he he had been told the news.

Fight Me

Soul was panting heavily, sweat trickling down the side of his head as he squinted, the hot sun beating down on his tired body. His muscles were aching and his blood boiling not only from the exertion of the sparring match with his partner but also from the unshakable frustration at his own weakness. Maka was smirking, her back hunched a little, her hands raised in front of her, ready for another attack. Only she didn't. attack. She stayed there, watching him with keen, smug eyes. He clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging into the skin of his palms.

"Stop holding back, Maka!" he growled, gritting his teeth. She looked taken aback for a moment and Soul didn't hesitate to use her momentary surprise to make his own attack. He surged forward quickly, his thighs burning and despite his best efforts, Maka was prepared. She blocked his punch and kicked his legs. He tried to make a grab for her in a last ditch effort to steady himself, but he was too late and fell down. Dust rose around him, the sand on the ground dirtying his tattered pants and sticking grossly to his clammy skin. He winced at the pain in his tailbone, looked up only to be blinded by the scorching sun. He blinked and shook his head, only to see his partner standing above him, looking worried.

Soul groaned tiredly and gratefully accepted Maka's hand. It was tempting but he knew it would be a pretty stupid move to take advantage of her concern and try an underhanded trick now. Disappointment burned in his heart as she flopped down next to him, crossing her legs.

"You're getting better and better," she said, rolling her shoulders and smiling up at him.

"Bullshit. I suck at this and you know it," he muttered lowly and ran a hand through his tousled hair. "I know you've been holding back on me. I have no clue how I'm supposed to wield you in weapon form when I can barely land a punch on someone."

Maka snorted as she smacked him on the arm lightly. "Soul," she began, going into lecture mode, making him sigh heavily and roll his eyes, "I have been training at hand to hand combat for years on a regular basis. I am bound to be better than you at it," she said, confident and cheeky. She reached out for him, patting him on the shoulder, before she added, "But I can assure you, you're doing really well. Soon enough you'll be as good as me─"

He cut through her encouraging speech with involuntary chuckles. "I really appreciate you saying it, but lets face it: I will never be able to beat you."

She rolled her eyes and stood up, stretching her arms over her head. She glanced down at him from the corner of her eyes. "Stand up, Soul. Lets continue your training or you'll never shut up about how much─" she let her voice drop some in a poor attempt to imitate him, "─you suck at hand to hand combat."

"Urgh, shuddup. That's easy for you to say. You haven't been the one who got just swung around during battle all those years."

"Well, soon I will be if you just managed to get up and fight me." She shot him a challenging smirk.

"Tsk, fight you? More like get my ass handed to me by you."

"Oh, stop being such a baby, Soul. Get up." She took a few steps away from him and turned around, getting into a fighting stance.

Soul scoffed, sluggishly rising to his feet, grimacing at his muscles protesting with soreness all over.

"And this time," she continued, "I really won't hold back."

"Fuck."

Haunt Me

This was the way it was supposed to be, wasn't it? Soul was a Deathscythe now and he couldn't expect to be wielded by Maka forever. Yet there was still something stirring in his chest that felt like betrayal. He shook his head tiredly, throwing the covers off his body. Istanbul was far too hot in the summer. Sure, he was used to the desert heat of Nevada, but this city was overcrowded by people and cars, the fumes only adding to the temperature.

He wanted to call her but knew she had to be sleeping still. He wondered if it would get easier as time went on. If he could more comfortably let himself be wielded by Kid, the new shinigami. He didn't exactly enjoy resonating with Kid. With Maka it always felt like their souls were...embracing, lulling each other in warmth and strength and reassurance. It was different with Kid, which felt more like his soul was being shoved into a narrow compartment and couldn't leave without Kid letting him out.

Soul heaved a heavy sigh, tapping his fingers impatiently against his knee to a random melody. This sucked. Screw this! He snatched his phone and dialed Maka's number in haste as he almost forgot to dial the area code too. He wasn't actually expecting anyone to pick up; maybe Blair if she worked late again.

"Soul! I wanted to call you too actually but I thought you'd be sleeping," Maka said and Soul could hear the smile in her voice even if she sounded a little tired. It made him feel bad just a little.

And maybe he should have prepared his words a little better because the next that came out of his mouth sounded a little desperate. "I miss you."

He slapped his hand over his mouth as if that would magically put those three syllables back into his big fat mouth. The tenseness in his muscles vanished the moment he could hear her hushed giggles over the phone.

"Maybe I miss you too," she said, making his heart flutter annoyingly in his chest.

"Maybe, huh?"

"Yup!" She laughed and he allowed himself a chuckle as well.

"You're like a freaking ghost, you know that?" He scoffed, lying back down, relaxing against the sheets. "Haunting me to make me wake up at such an ungodly hour so I can call you.

"Don't be an idiot, Soul. You couldn't sleep the whole time, right? I didn't actually wake you up."

His left brow twitched, his voice dry and flat when he said, "Okay. How did you know that? Or were you really haunting me."

Maka just giggled, her laughter filling him with warmth and making his stomach flutter with - he grimaced - butterflies.

Zip Me

Soul and Maka didn't get the chance to go out much, much less during the night. They had a busy life. If they weren't on missions, they had classes to attend and on their rare free days they'd usually opt to laze around the apartment. Not today though. They had decided to eat at this new fancy French restaurant whose name he couldn't pronounce.

They had also decided that this wasn't a date, regardless what their friends were assuming. Sure, they would be spending a lot of money for this night, but why the hell shouldn't they? It wasn't like they couldn't enjoy something fancy and expensive once in awhile.

Soul loosened his tie a little, craning his neck over the backrest of the couch to see if Maka was ready. He frowned.

"Oi, Maka! Hurry up!"

He heard her muffled curses from the bathroom and the thudding noise of something she dropped to the floor. Letting out more curses, he briefly saw her ankles before she vanished into her room in a flash.

"Okay, okay. I'm done, almost-argh! Stupid dress," she squeaked. Soul cocked his head to the side curiously.

"Uh, Maka, do you need help?"

"No, I'm fine. Urgh no, I'm not. A little help would be nice please," she shouted, frustrated.

He leisurely made his way to her room, and knocked on her door that was ajar. His hand automatically went to push it fully open. After years of having to patch each other up after battles that resulted in injuries and tattered clothes, Soul could certainly proclaim that the sight of his scantily clad meister did not affect him in the least.

Or so he thought.

He didn't think he had ever felt the need to...passionately appreciate a bare back. She glanced at him from over her shoulder, brows furrowed.

"Soul, don't stand around like that. Come help me with the dumb zipper."

"Uhh." He shook his head dumbfoundedly, taking a deep breath before he approached her. Without further ado he grasped the zipper and pulled it up, slowly, his eyes drinking in the creamy and soft skin of her back vanishing little by little behind the black satiny fabric of her dress.

His eyes took particular interest in the goosebumps that formed on her upper back. He licked his lips, fingertips grazing softly over her shoulder blades, making her shudder. Yup, just his partner. Nothing more. He caught her gaze in the mirror of her vanity and was surprised to see the green of her eyes so dark, clouded over with...with something. He didn't know what was going on, just that his heart was drumming in his heart furiously, his blood roaring in his ears.

The pale column of her neck looked particularly nice and he wondered what it would feel like to kiss it or maybe to lick it. Would her pulse jump under the attention of his lips? Or would she simply pull out a book from nowhere and break his skull.

"Soul?" she breathed throatily, gulping hard.

"Hmm?"

The dress looked lovely on her, hugging her lithe body, her hair put up to leave her elegant neck and her narrow shoulders bare.

"We're going to be late," she said, though she didn't sound like she cared that much about their possible tardiness at all, but it was still enough to pull him out of his dazed reverie.

"Um, okay. Lets go."