Title: Marriage Pact

Summary: "Remember when we were in high school and we swore that if we were still single at 30 we'd marry each other, well hey guess whose birthday it is."

She didn't think it'd ever come up again, yet there he was half-asleep and lost into his drunken haze, his head on her lap as she bemusedly ran her fingers through his wild hair. It had been quite the night, a nice night with all of their friends together again after what felt like so long. Maka smiled to herself as Tsubaki bid her quietly goodbye, dragging Black*Star by his arm whose slurred speech had ceased to make any sense hours ago. The door clicked shut behind them and Soul flinched, his heavy-lidded eyes growing wide as he sat up with a gasp.

"Wha?"

Maka hid a snort behind her hand, her fingers twitching in her lap with the urge to smooth down his unruly bangs that were sticking into all directions like the arms of an octopus.

"Let's get you to bed," she said and stood up, stretching her arms over her head with a pleased sigh before she looked down on him, still sitting deliriously on the couch, and added with an impish smile, "Old Man."

He buried his face in his hands and let out a groan, making her erupt into giggles she didn't bother to hide from him this time. "Shuddup, 'm not old," he rasped, shooting her a pouty glare, and she could only laugh more loudly.

Her hand was in his hair again, tousling it as the affection in her heart flared. "You've reached the golden age of thirty, I think I'm allowed to make fun of you a little," she said, smiling brightly as he crossed his arms over his chest and harrumphed.

"Jus' wait 'cuz next year it's gonna be your turn and I won't shut up about it. Ever."

She rolled her eyes and waved her hand dismissively. "We can talk about that tomorrow. If you still remember your threat, that is."

"I won't forget. And I will- wait!" His head snapped up from its sagged position, eyes startlingly clear as he made a grab for her wrist, his fingers warm against her skin. Perhaps her heart started to beat a little faster at this, but she had drunk some wine tonight, too, however little it had been. "I'm thirty now, right?"

Maka blinked, lips pressed together before she answered, "Yes?"

His mouth twitched and stretched into a grin, eager and boyish, and she probably had had more wine than she thought because her blood was running hot, scalding her veins as she pressed her free hand against her chest and gulped.

"So we're gonna marry now?"

She choked on her spit. "What?!"

"Heh, don't you remember?" He waggled his eyebrows, sharp teeth glinting in the dim light of the reading lamp. "High school? Senior year? Eh?"

Her heart lurched and jumped into her throat. "What? Soul, what are you-"

Senior year? High school? Marriage?

Maka gasped, her muscles deflating as the tension left her body and she allowed herself to laugh again. "Really Soul? You still think of that?" Her cheeks were crawling with heat as Soul's hand fell away from hers with a snap of his wrist.

"Of course, I do," he said petulantly, red eyes trained to the ground. "You don't forget when the girl you have a crush on proposes to you."

"We were seventeen, Soul," she hissed, but her blood was roaring in her ears and her heart sagged a little at his dejected voice. And wait, what? A crush? "Soul, I never knew… you know what? You really need to go to sleep before you say more things you don't mean." She bent down a little, her hands on his shoulders as she helped him to stand, but the moment he leaned against her, she grunted. He might not look like it, but she had seen him shirtless often enough to know he did pack some impressive weight of muscle beneath all those clothes of his.

"I mean it. I thought…" he paused, looked up at the ceiling and licked his lips before he continued, "you were so smart and pretty and you were my friend. Which was totally cool, but daaaaamn."

"Huh?" She really should make him stop talking because he was blathering, talking about things he would never talk about if he were sober and it was so wrong to let him continue, to take advantage of his inebriation because she was curious… and maybe because… because Soul was-

"And then you ssssuddenly told me that we-" he pointed with his finger between them, smiling gently, "we should get married if we're still single at thirty."

She might have been dead serious about that stupid marriage pact when she had been seventeen years old, but she had been angry and bitter after a disastrous date with some asshole she knew she shouldn't have gone out with. Was Soul expecting her to- to marry him now?

"You didn't mean it?" his voice dropped down to a meek whisper, his white messy fringe hiding his eyes as they stumbled into his room and she made sure his belt and shirt were gone before she tucked him. His eyes had never looked so big and vulnerable as they did now and something unpleasant swirled in her stomach before she heaved a sigh, rubbing her arm.

"That was twelve years ago," she mumbled, averting her eyes. Why was she still bothering to explain. He was drunk! And even if she had kinda liked him a lot back then and maybe still adored him more than a friend should, it didn't mean they should get married.

"But you still asked me."

"Yeah." She looked up and bit her lip, holding his dazed eyes. They had never talked about it, had never broached the topic of how they never dated anyone else, how they had moved together in college and it had somehow remained that way after all those years. "Good night, Soul."

She shut the door behind her, her heart heavy in her chest.

The next morning she woke up with a mild headache and the memories of a drunken Soul from last night still weighing on her conscience. She took a quick shower, threw on some loose comfortable sweatpants and a tank top before she stepped into the kitchen ready to throw a few eggs together to make an omelette because she didn't really feel like making anything more opulent.

But the table was set; croissants, sliced bread, bacon, cheese and a bottle of orange juice were all arranged neatly in small baskets and plates, two candles in the centre lit. Soul was standing by the fridge, kicking it shut before he noticed her and jumped with a yelp. It would have been hilarious if her throat didn't constrict with dread and her blood didn't freeze in her veins into clumps of ice.

"Soul what's this?" she said, her voice shriller than usual, as she frenziedly pointed at the table.

He put the carton of milk onto the counter, glanced to the side as he rubbed the back of his neck before he looked up, looking decidedly nothing like a man recovering from a hangover.

"I know this is weird. Especially after what we talked about last night," he said, barely meeting her eyes.

Oh, so he did not forget about it.

"Please don't tell me you're going to propose or something," she laughed, panic seizing a hold of her limbs as she refused to move from her spot, ready to bolt.

"No! Look, I was drunk last night and no, I'm not expecting you to marry me just because of some stuff you said in high school, but I thought that maybe- maybe we could give us a try?"

Maka sucked in a deep breath, her heart hammering against her ribs as she pressed a hand against the doorframe to steady herself. And then in a second, she walked into the kitchen and seated herself at the table.

"Okay," she said calmly, though there was no part of her that actually was calm, and looked into his eyes. Her fingers were a jittery mess as she attempted a display of nonchalance and picked the bottle of orange juice to pour herself some into one of their nicer wine glasses Soul had put on the table. It spilled on the pristine white table cloth, making her cringe and Soul laugh, relief washing over them both as they relaxed.

"Well, that was easier than I thought it would be," he said cheekily, grinning from ear to ear.

Her cheeks were hot, her palms sweaty and her hands clumsy, but there was no way to fight off that big smile from her face because why the hell should they not give a try? It made perfect sense. They knew each other in and out, had lived together for twelve years and were affectionate and cuddly like most couples weren't.

"I thought you'd forget all about it with how drunk you were." She giggled, her chest flaring with excitement as he rubbed his head. "Or at least pretend that you forgot."

"Nah, you tend to get your shit together when you're older and-" he trailed off, eyes widening when he realized what he was saying, but it was too late. Maka smirked.

"So you admit that you're old!"

"Shuddup!"

She laughed quietly despite his glare and the pathetic little kick he gave her under the table.

And that was how they became a couple, though if their friends were asked, Soul and Maka had been pretty much married since freshman year of college. Their first date didn't feel that different from any other of their outings together aside from the kiss he gave her, and well, aside from how they kissed again once they were back home and stripped each other of their fancy clothes before they made a desperate dash to her bedroom.

It would be (of course) in Las Vegas on her 30th birthday a year later when he had his arms wound around her waist that she would ask him. Her head was lazily resting against his chest as they swayed from side to side, her voice drowsy and playful, "You think we should uphold our pact now that I've turned thirty as well?"

Soul gasped and his arms tensed up around her as a shiver ran down her spine. What had she done? Her eyes widened, but then his hands were smoothing down her waist before he raised one up to her face, tilting her chin up.

His eyes were anxious and tender, his lips curled into a happy smile. "Then we should hurry before I turn thirty-one, huh?"

She grinned and put her arms around his neck to bring him down for a kiss.

Two days later, Mr. and Mrs. Evans walked out of a small chapel holding hands.