A/N: Because I could. Obviously NSFW/MA, though not badly so.
Whenever she'd read about sex, there were always two and only two scenarios. Either your first time as a woman was supposed to hurt, or it was supposed to be some sort of perfect fantasy.
As it turned out, everything she had ever read on the subject was utter bullshit.
When they made love for the first time, as two people making their sexual debut together, she had mostly expected it to suck and slightly hoped it would be mind blowing, but it was neither of those things exactly, not exactly. Instead, it had been awkward and fantastic and so so warm, and she had even by some miracle had an orgasm, her release triggered by the feeling of his, of his twitching and his impossibly hot seed released within her so forcefully.
No, it had been nothing like she'd read about, especially not what came after.
Maka had a vague idea that she was supposed to lay content in the arms of her lover, to spend the night intertwined.
And she tried to, oh Shinigami how she tried to, unwilling to ruin what ought to be a perfect moment with the man she loved more than life itself, her weapon, her soulmate, her Soul.
Nobody had ever warned her of how uncomfortable that would be, of how sweaty and overheated their bodies would remain, how sticky and messy and utterly disgusting it would feel, how much she would be fighting the urge to grab a towel, or hell even his discarded t-shirt she wasn't picky, to stem and clean the flow of other oozing from between her legs and smearing down her thighs. And perhaps worst of all, nobody warned her how much she would need to pee. Because holy Death did she need to pee.
She began to squirm a bit almost unconsciously, her discomfort mounting even as she so desperately wanted to hold onto the moment, to experience some phantom of post-coital bliss instead of—this.
For his part, Soul had his eyes closed, had her body tucked against his own, and was stroking her hair methodically. If he was uncomfortable he didn't say it, and for herself, she tried to take comfort in the feel of his skin against hers, in his lingering touch.
It couldn't last. Five minutes passed, ten, fifteen, and her agitation was reaching untenable proportions. Maka so wanted to be content to lie in her lover's arms or whatever but, death damnit, it was impossible when she felt utterly disgusting and like she was about to piss herself.
Soul must have sensed her agitation—the fidgeting had to be a huge tip off—because he finally asked.
"Everything okay?"
"Uh, yeah it's—uh—great. I mean it was great," she said, still afraid to somehow taint their first time together.
"You sure?" He pushed and she couldn't help it, mostly because she didn't want to lie.
"Um, it's just, I mean I really like laying—together—like this, I do but I sort of—really really have to—I have to—I'm sorry but I really need to pee!" She shot up because holding it was becoming uncomfortable. Clearly either that whole laying content right after was another stupid myth or else she had a ridiculously weak bladder.
"Oh thank Death!" She heard him exclaim just behind her as she sprinted to the bathroom. "Was afraid I'd end up pissing myself," she heard him grumble as she slammed the bathroom door in his face and emptied her too long held bladder.
She couldn't help it, she laughed. Laughed as she finished relieving herself and wiped, laughed as she grabbed a dirty towel because toilet paper was insufficient to curb the mess still lingering between her legs.
She heard him laughing too from behind the door, the sound warm and perfect, and as she wadded her now sex soiled towel into the hamper, she opened the door to throw her arms around him, pressing her nakedness against his own and pressing a chaste kiss to his nose.
He kissed his forehead and grinned goofily down at her and she grinned goofily up at him the realization that they had just had sex, and with each other no less, and hell, I love this person clearly catching both of them, and for a moment, they stood that way until Soul was squirming.
"Uh, Maka," he went scarlet. "You mind?"
"Oh—OH!" She pinked herself and released him to move past, giggling as he managed a pinch to her bottom before she shut the door behind her.
It was a few minutes before he emerged—clearly his piss had been of epic proportions—but when he did, she had already lain back in bed and wiped up the stickiness left behind on a small part of the sheets, putting down a towel for good measure because she had no wish to spend her night in a wet spot.
When Soul trudged back in, he wordlessly slipped into bed behind her, pulling her to him so that her rear was flush against him and slinging an arm over her middle. Finally clean and empty of offending fluids, Maka snuggled against him with a contented sigh and felt his similar sigh at her ear as they finally held each other like she'd read they were supposed to.
No, sex with Soul hadn't just been some perfect fantasy—along with feeling amazing and hot and close, it had been sticky and messy and awkward and uncomfortable. But as she finally settled into his arms, she realized she wouldn't change it. So they weren't perfect, so they bickered, and stumbled, and sometimes things were awkward and messy—so what? That was them, and they were perfect together, and in the face of that, what could matter?
Certainly not sticky legs or bodily fluids.
With that thought hazy in her contented mind, Maka drifted off to sleep.