A/N: Written for the VDay challenge on tumblr, Day 1. Complete Crack Eater. Yeah, I know I usually put the more serious ones here, but I felt like it. Love Game belongs to Lady Gaga.

I wanna kiss you
But if I do then I might miss you babe
It's complicated and stupid
Got my ass squeezed by sexy Cupid
Guess he wants to play,
Wants to play
A love game
A love game

Oh death oh death oh death she did not want to play Spin the Bottle. Spin the Bottle meant Maka would have to kiss someone when she'd never kissed anyone, and what if it landed on Black Star or Ox? She might just die-kissing someone who was like a brother, or someone who was a jerk to her half the time was hardly her idea of fun.

Plus, what if it was worse than kissing? Because Liz had introduced rules that involved rolling the dice to decide their fate, and that fate could range from a hug to a kiss to actually making out and she did not want to make out with anyone.

On the bright side, once she had her turn, she and whoever the bottle pointed to would be eliminated from the game. On the down side, she had chosen the short straw and was the first spinner, so she could get stuck with anyone in Spartoi.

Ugh. Ugggghhh. Why had she let Liz pressure her into this?

It'll be fun, she'd said, everyone else is playing, she'd pleaded, you're not gonna chicken out, right? she'd taunted. Even Soul is playing, she'd played her ace.

Even Soul was playing?

She was surprised enough by that that she agreed, the thought of her emotionally reserved weapon agreeing puzzling, the thought of him kissing someone causing her stomach to turn.

And now, here she was.

"Any time now, Albarn," Harvar drawled from across the way, and Maka glared back.

"Just for that, if I have to kiss you, I'm using teeth," she growled.

He actually grinned at that. "Kinky."

"You're gross," she snapped as snickers went around the circle, and Maka had had enough-she reached out to the center to the bottle, closed her eyes, and spun.

What if it was one of the girls? The thought came to her, sudden, unbidden. Actually, she almost hoped it was. They were all friends pretty good friends, so while it might be awkward, it wouldn't be-be-as weird, maybe.

Maybe she'd get hugging. Yeah, that would be-

She'd yet to open her eyes, too worried about the horrors that might be involved in slowly watching where fate would lead her. There was a clamor, exclamations of "figures!" "Bout time," and even a "this should be good," which had her opening her eyes, following the line of the bottle to-to-

The person next to her. The only person in the entire circle she'd ever wanted to kiss.

The bottle had landed on the last person she'd ever expected it would.

The bottle had landed on Soul.

She let out a breath, of relief, or of nervousness because-because-well-maybe it wouldn't be kissing.

She looked at her weapon, who was pointedly staring at the bottle, face blank. Feeling a nudge on her other side, Maka turned to Liz, who held out a six sided dice with a wicked grin.

"Time to find out how good a show we get," the demon gun declared.

Maka snatched the die with a frown and cast it quickly, annoyed, nervous.

This game was so-

Her eyes widened as the number settled on six, and cheers and hoots and hollers erupted around the table.

-stupid.

Oh death oh death oh dear sweet death what was she going to do?

Six was the worst. The worst. Because six was making out.

On the one hand, it would be with Soul, and it wasn't like she was entirely repulsed by the idea. Sort of the opposite, actually.

On the other hand, it would be with Soul, who was her partner, who wasn't interested, who she had never even hinted she wouldn't mind kissing because it could completely destroy their partnership, and that thought was absolutely terrifying.

Maka was frozen, still staring at the six of doom as the clamor rose around her, a chant of "make out, make out!" rising around the circle, when she felt a nudge against her shoulder.

"You don't have to do this," her weapon spoke low in her ear. "It's just a stupid game, we can-"

Was he trying to get out of it because kissing her was that repulsive? Then why play at all? But no, she could fel his soul, and there was no disgust, only concern.

There was a grumble of "hurry the fuck up already" from across the way, and something that sounded like clucking chickens off to the side she was pretty sure came from Patti and Black Star.

Wait-were they implying she was chicken?

Maka Albarn was many, many things, but she was no chicken.

She shot up, pulling her surprised weapon with her, and before she actually could chicken out, threw herself at him, eyes closed, lips and noses smashing together uncomfortably.

She tried to figure out what would satisfy the "making out" requirement and, as romantic comedies flashed through her head, her hands shot up to tangle in his hair. For his part, surprise must have faded into resignation at the very least because he put his hands on her hips to draw her closer, pulling away slightly and angling his head to allow their noses not to battle for dominance.

So fierce, so focused, so stunned by the slight discomfort of forceful face smashing, Maka hadn't even let herself register how his lips felt on hers, but she did now, and it was-it was so warm. She opened her eyes for a bare moment, but his were closed, so she closed them again and just let herself experience it all because it was her first kiss, and it was with the boy she was pretty sure she loved, and it was nice.

The way his lips moved against hers was so soft yet, somehow, almost-she couldn't even say, but it had her head spinning, her body overwarm.

Then she felt his tongue, his tongue of all things, dart out hot and moist to just touch her lower lip and oh-oh-she-making out, right. That would involve tongue. She parted her lips slightly, darted out her own tongue, drowned out the whoops from around her. Cautiously, so cautiously, she slid her tongue across his lip, then over to his own tongue. Ah-ah-no wonder people enjoyed this, it was-ah-it was-

His mouth was becoming more insistent, his tongue sliding along hers, his hands pulling her yet closer, his fingers digging into her hips possessively.

So this was kissing. This was making out.

Then, suddenly, his mouth was off hers and Maka almost wanted to protest because she was enjoying this, damnit, but then it was just a game and-

And-

His mouth was on her jaw, kissing softy, then down her neck, and oh that felt nice, but she couldn't help the small questioning "Soul?" that escaped her, which earned her his lips, hot against her ear.

"Making out, remember?"

And then his mouth was back on her neck, and oh death he was-Soul was sucking on her neck, and it felt so good that an embarrassing noise escaped her, and oh death was that his teeth?

Well, two could play at that game.

Her hands moved down down down from his hair to his ass and began to explore and grope and squeeze, causing her weapon to release a breathy gasp of her name against her neck.

"Making out, remember?" she responded with a triumphant smile. Then his lips were back up on hers and there was no thought of triumph, only of warm, of wet, of him.

This was making out. They were making out. Death, she never wanted to stop making out.

When his hands found her ass a minute later, returning her earlier favor, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

How could she have ever thought he didn't want this? The contentment, the sheer want that echoed between their shared soul space was nearly overwhelming.

They went on like that for several minutes more, and Maka didn't even notice when the whoops died down, had actually forgotten there was anyone else watching at all, that anyone else even existed, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Since Soul's hands were still squeezing her ass, she realized someone else had touched her and reluctantly pulled away from kissing her weapon to look over her shoulder, questioning.

It was Liz. She looked an odd cross between smug and embarrassed. "Uh, so, I think you've-fulfilled your part of the game."

"Yeah, get a fuckin' room, damn!" Black Star shouted.

Maka blinked at Liz and nodded, wriggling away from Soul, who looked almost as stunned as she felt.

"Um, yeah, we'll just-"

He was standing at her side in an instant. "Wanna get out of here?" His voice was odd, hoarse, and his skin was flushed.

"Yeah," she said quietly, grabbing his hand to drag him out of the room, out of the Gallows, ignoring the hoots and hollers and snickers that followed.

Tomorrow, when things were calm, they would talk, they would reflect, they would figure things out. But for now? For now, they needed to get home. They were nineteen, and they had just shared their first kiss, and they had a lot of lost time to make up for.

For now, they had some serious kissing to do.