Soma Week Day 2: Cuddles

We took each other's underwear from the laundromat by mistake AU

—

Maka's only reprieve from her busy schedule was laundry night.

She liked to do her wash at unholy hours— usually between 1:00 and 3:00 am— because it gave her time to sit and read quietly, reflect on her day, and purposefully not think about making rent or paying tuition. There was only one other person in her entire apartment building that used the laundry room at the same time— her neighbor from 4C— and he usually sat silently in the corner with his headphones on. He was cute, though definitely not her type. From what Maka could gather from his clothing, hair, and demeanor, he was either some sort of musician or a drug dealer.

Whatever the case, he didn't bother her or try to sell her crack, so she was fine sharing the laundry room with him.

Like every other laundry night prior, Maka and the guy from 4C nodded to each other in acknowledgement once when they entered the basement but didn't make small talk. Maka neatly folded her warm, dry clothes to perfection. 4C threw all of his laundry into a basket haphazardly, and Maka thought about informing him that they were going to wrinkle. He caught her look of disdain and rolled his (stoner?) eyes. Maka could have sworn she heard him mutter, "Clothes police" under his breath but he was gone before she could defend herself.

"I hope all of your clothes wrinkle," she whispered viciously, "and your colors run."

—

When Maka returned to her apartment to put away her clothes, she discovered a pair of boxers in her laundry basket that definitely did not belong to her. There was no man in her life and she lived alone so who did these mystery undies belong to?

She also discovered that her own fancy underwear— the one pair that she owned that wasn't sensible cotton— was suspiciously absent. Maka loved her fancy panties. They were black and lacy with a tiny bow and she wore them when she wanted to feel good about herself. Gone. Her only pair of cute underwear was gone. Her one splurge, the only time she had ever treated herself to something expensive, gone.

There could only be one culprit, Maka decided and rushed out of her apartment. It had to be 4C.

Evans, the name on apartment 4C informed her. Evans was the man whose underwear she had in her possession. Evans was the pervert who had possibly pilfered her panties. Men only wanted girls' underwear for nefarious reasons, Maka thought, getting more heated by the second. What if he was some underwear thief? What if this wasn't his first panty heist?

Maka growled and knocked on the door. If he thought he was going to keep her underwear, then he had another thing coming.

"Wha—"

Maka stuck the boxers out, all but shoving them in his face. He flinched, surprised at the underwear assault. "Yours?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh, shit. Yeah, thanks for—"

"Where are my panties?!" Maka hissed.

Maka heard movement in the apartment and suddenly a blue haired man in a tank top that read "OBAMA CAN'T BAN THESE GUNS" with arrows pointing to his impressive biceps materialized, as if by magic, behind Mr. Evans. He leaned heavily on Soul. "Soul. Bro. Broseph. Bro-ho-ho! You got a girl's panties? I didn't think you had it in you!"

Soul shoved his friend off of him. "No! Star, shut up for a second, will you?" He scowled. "I don't have your underwear."

"Well, they're gone and you're the only person who was at the scene of the crime," Maka said. "I looked everywhere. You have to have them."

"Why would I lie? What the hell would I want with your panties?" he demanded.

Maka scoffed. "Uh, well if you're a pervert—"

"Hey!"

"— you could, I don't know, sell them on eBay to other perverts! Sell them on the panty black market!"

Soul rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I don't have your stupid underwear. You can't just come here and accuse me of taking your shit. You have no proof."

Star— or whatever the hell blue haired guy's name was— held up his hand. "Hold on just a second… what do these alleged panties look like?"

Maka folded her arms across her chest. "They're black and lacey and have a little red bow on them. But I don't get—"

Maka and Soul watched— Maka in shock, Soul in horror— as Black*Star pulled the stolen panties out of the pocket of his shorts. "Wha— wha—? WHY?" Soul turned bright red and pointed to the panties in question, clearly disgusted.

Black*Star shrugged. "I thought they belonged to… uh. What was that girl's name from last night? The one with the big tits from the bar?"

"HOW WOULD I KNOW!?" Soul screamed. "Where did you even get these?!"

Black*Star looked thoughtful. "Found them in your laundry basket and thought they were mine?"

"Just give those back before you get arrested, you idiot!"

Maka snatched the underwear from Black*Star, shaking with rage. She was mortified. It was three in the morning and she'd just had to retrieve her good panties from near strangers. Maka also felt a stab of guilt for accusing Soul when he had been innocent. What had she done in her life to deserve this treatment? She was a nice person. She paid her bills on time. She gave to charity!

She turned on her heel to stomp back to her apartment. "Hey… she was cute," she heard Black*Star say to Soul. "Maybe you should try to get into those panties for real?"

There was a distinctive thumping sound, like someone hitting something, and she heard Black*Star groan.

Good, Maka thought. She hoped it hurt.

—

Laundry night, a week after The Panty Incident.

Soul Evans was sitting in the laundry room, arms crossed and shrinking in the corner, trying desperately not to meet her eyes. No doubt he felt mortified that he associated with someone as gross as Black*Star. Technically, the whole stolen underwear thing was just a giant misunderstanding, but Maka needed someone to be annoyed with and Soul was a convenient target.

"I'm washing my delicates now, so don't get tempted to steal them," Maka said loudly as she loaded up a washer.

"Who would want your boring underwear?" he snarled, putting down his headphones.

She stomped across the room, looming over him with her hands on her hips. This was so juvenile, Maka thought, but she couldn't stop herself. "Your friend! Your nasty, perverted friend who probably gets off on stolen underwear! I thwarted his plans!"

Soul stood up. He was taller than her but not an especially intimidating figure. Maka could take him. "Black*Star is an idiot but it was an accident."

"A likely story!"

"Let it go! You got your panties back! Making a big deal out of this isn't cool at all!"

"Why don't YOU shut up?"

"Why don't you?!"

It was probably the heat of the moment and the not so sudden, heavy realization that Soul Evans from 4C was actually really attractive with his ridiculous little headband and deep voice, but one minute they were arguing about the state of her panties and the next Maka had him up against the cement wall of their basement and they were kissing.

Soul hadn't resisted. Just the opposite, he responded enthusiastically by weaving his fingers through the empty belt loops of her skirt and tugging her closer to him. Maka's kissing experiences were few and far between, but none of the gentle, hesitant pecks could hold a candle to the electric, anger fueled makeouts that were punctuated by delightful bites with sharp teeth and fingers digging into sensitive skin. She panted heavily against his mouth when his hands found purchase in her hair and tugged lightly.

Oh. So this was a thing that she liked.

They parted for air and Soul leaned his forehead against hers, a surprisingly soft gesture in the wake of their passionate kiss. His arms looped around her and held her close, earlier annoyance melting away into something gentle. Was he a closet cuddler? That… was kind of adorable, Maka thought, and leaned against him. "What was that?" he breathed.

"Uhhh," Maka said unintelligibly, voice muffled by his shirt, "revenge for my panties?"

"I can live with that," Soul whispered and bent his head down for another kiss.