I'm going to mark this as complete because this is potentially the end. I know I could do more, and maybe I will someday in the future but with my other fics and the quickly approaching responsibility of the school year, let's call this done for now. Also, I'm really interested in the examination of consent I set up in this fic. If you have opinions about that, and especially if you have problems with that, especially after this chapter, please PM me. I'm totally up for a discussion about it.

Maka had slipped back into a useless, thin sleep for a few hours. She woke up in the pitch black and stumbled into the hallway and down to the bathroom. She'd been so tired that brushing her teeth hadn't seemed important before but now the need for a normalizing routine was the only thing that could keep her from thinking about how close he'd been when she opened her eyes. How scared he looked when he pulled away from her. The bathroom had that residual steamy feel and she wondered if he was still awake, had maybe just gone to sleep after taking a shower in an attempt to lull himself back to calm.

He did that, always showering after missions or other tough encounters as if that washed away all the tension built up. This was another desperate moment that she wished he could clarify. What about putting me to bed was so terrifying? What were you about to do, even though I'm almost sure I can guess? That left her pausing in the hallway, her hand hovering to knock on his door. The only thing that stopped her was the desperate fear that he wouldn't let her in.

Instead, she went back to her bed, picked up her phone, and uncomfortably settled on the words she knew would at least give her a modicum of surety. While 1lonelysoul's page was loading and as she was deciding between video 9 or 10, the strange discombobulation of finding her list out of order, seeing video 11 hit her. Maka checked the timestamp and sure enough, it was under an hour old, the thumbnail offering her almost too much darkness to see him in it. Remember, curiosity killed the cat… her mind muttered as her finger hovered between it and video 10. But how badly do you want your explanation? She clicked on 11.

Soul was sitting up closer to the camera because with one headphone in he couldn't lay back. He was pressing the microphone close to his lips, leaving Maka feeling like he was whispering right in her ear. "I almost stole a kiss from you tonight." The breathiness of it made Maka tremble and that fire ignited just below her belly, forcing her heart to thunder. "And that's not where I would have stopped, either." That bordered on a threat, some strange kind of anger drifting somewhere in the background but Maka was too preoccupied with the heat.

"It wouldn't have been your hands on my wrists but the other way around. I'd hold you down on that bed and taste every last fucking inch of your mouth because that's what I was looking at, studying while you slept, not knowing a fucking thing. I'd bite that bottom lip until that half pout you wear all the time was full." Maka was trying to catch her breath almost in unison with him. It was strange to hear him pant in her ear and as her eyes fluttered over the image as he paused she realized why. His hand was slowly stroking along one of the legs of his boxers.

Her eyes couldn't leave the motion even as he continued. "Since it's in my fucking imagination you're not telling me 'no,' you're not putting on the brakes and I wouldn't. I fucking can't. Because I want to know what it feels like to touch your skin. I want to snake a hand under that nightshirt and have you moan because my calloused hands, the ones that work from the piano to the battlefield, light you on fire." The movement was quicker, needier and the panting was joined by short, pained grunts. "I want my dreams, the ones where you undress me and it's not a second of feeling sorry for me, of regret or any of that shit, just wanting me just as much as I want you."

His hand stopped with a strange, truncated gasp that hit Maka as such a painful juxtaposition to his words. Soul's lip trembled in the frame, a mournful wrinkle starting just below it. "So, see? I'm just fucking disgusting. I'm everything you fucking hate because I'm just like your dad and every other guy out there. I can talk for hours about how much I feel about you, but in the end, I can't stop myself from wanting. I'm fucking pathetic. And maybe I'm just… I should just show you it. Maka, it's Soul, and when I get the fucking guts to send you this, I hope you know how fucking sorry I am."

Drearywriter: I'm so fucking confused… does he think he's disgusting just because he wants to fuck her? Is she some kind of prude?

Mildmedium: that was so fucking hot. all that teasing build-up was worth it. even with the self-loathing at the end.

Adoringbebe: drearywriter and it's not even more than some vanilla, missionary style shit.

Pitifulmail: I'm hoping that whoever this girl is, she'd disagree with you. You seem to really love her, and I'm not sure wanting her in that way ruins that. I really hope you two talk this out. Maybe don't show her this video, but…

Soul had locked his door. Maka had no conceivable memory for the last time he had actually done that if ever at all. Her knocking only brought assurances he was alive, but solid refusals to leave. Her only choice was to switch places from yesterday and brave DWMA without him. This didn't feel like part of her plan but if Maka was being entirely honest with herself, there wasn't a damn plan anymore.

Every step towards school made her want to turn back. Every buzz of her phone made her jump to think it was him, texting the address for the uploaded video that would send them both spiraling into ruin. The right option should have been refusing to leave, kicking down the door if she had to because there was no hope if he jumped first, but 11 had left her so… jumbled. Just like him on the screen, Maka was a tangle of want, guilt, confusion, and maybe a healthy dose of terror.

The whisper in her ear, the scenario he played out had been, on its own, electrifying. If she just dissected the words from the moment, it was exactly what she wanted from him.

How much she was to blame was probably tipped in a rather biased way, but she couldn't help but feel like there was something in the way she acted, the things she said to him, that drove him there. That tipped him into feeling like his want was something sick and unnatural.

Now the decision in front of her felt like anything but.

Maka being Maka, she put on a good show. Smiled through the day. Laughed off Soul's absence as an 'oops, he caught my 24-hour bug' and went about her business. It wasn't until she actually found Stein that it seemed to turn on its head.

He simply took one look at her, that one where he barely lifted his pale green eyes from his work and released emphatically, "Go home, Maka."

"What?" She made all attempts to sound amiable and produced as much shock as she could manage.

"I can't decide who's more unwell, you today or Soul yesterday. Go home." He settled back in his chair but didn't offer her another glance. "Fix whatever you both broke."

Fix whatever you both broke, Maka forced as a chant in her mind for the entire trip back which felt like both an eternity and a second all rolled into one. When she opened the door to the apartment there was still silence and she fought to get her boots off at the door. In stocking feet she started the unsteady but hard steps down the hallway, only to force herself to a stop as she passed the living room.

Soul was sitting on the couch, and while his face screamed no sleep and his eyes pleaded don't leave me, the rest of him was dressed and ready for the door. As she paused, eyes wide at the sight of him, he stood and hit the send button on his phone. A second passed and her phone buzzed in her pocket. "I sent you something. I want you to watch it. You can… text me after if you want."

Every last inch of her was fragile and frozen and it wasn't until he reached her, almost out of her grasp, that she sprung to life. Maka grabbed his wrist, barely stopping his momentum but not earning his eyes that he kept steady on the door. "I know about the videos." Oh, Death, every last inch of him, every piece of his soul is like… like needles.

"Let go of me." It was supposed to be an order but couldn't be more than a whimper as he took another step.

"I've known about them since the fight with Black Star."

"Let go of me," he repeated with no more strength than the last time.

"I watched all of them even though I know I shouldn't have."

As if he'd leeched the strength that should have been in the other words a low, feral cry came from him, something that reverberated down to his spiky soul as he ripped his wrist out of her grasp. He was out the front door before she could form another sentence. The absolute terror kept her still until she forced air back into her lungs and her legs shot her into a sprint. The hallway was empty and as soon as she hit the stairwell she could hear the exit door at the bottom clacking shut. Traction was impossible since in the mayhem she'd forgotten the need for shoes and she just narrowly avoided tumbling down the stairs, bracing the concrete wall last minute to save her but tearing up her hands in the process.

The sting didn't matter. Neither did the chill as her practically bare feet hit the pavement. He wasn't running but his steps were definitely decided and he didn't slow as she started to shout, "Soul, stop!"

His shoulders hunched tightly, not giving in to her command.

"Soul!" She tried to make it more of an order as she caught up to him and attempted to skid in front, blocking his path.

He used her momentum, grabbing her by the shirt and pushing her into an alleyway and against the wall. His cheeks were already stained and his teeth were clenched into a horrible sneer. "Do you not understand what I did? You said you watched them so you saw it! Get it through your head, Maka. I thought about fucking you while I-"

"I know what you did," Maka shouted and the horrible curl to his mouth started to tremble. "I just can't figure out why you hate yourself so much for it," she finished in a whisper.

Another wash of tears hit his cheeks before he pushed the words between his teeth, "Because I want-"

Maka forced her voice over the rest, "Please come back to the apartment. Please. I just want to talk." She made fists through the sting in her palms as she rubbed her knuckles into his chest. "I did a terrible job…" she hiccuped in air as she tried to press back the want to sob. "I did a terrible job of the whole thing, Soul. I'm so sorry. I should have told you. I should have stopped after the first one and talked to you but I… I wanted to know," she pleaded. "I know that's selfish, but I just… the end of that first video, the way you were so hurt, I wanted to know that. I wanted to help you through that."

The silence was agony but eventually, he sucked in air through his teeth. "The bad thought that day in the kitchen?" Soul offered helplessly as his hands loosened their grip on her shirt.

Maka nodded slowly.

Both exhaled shakily and while Soul took a step back to let his hands fall uselessly at his sides he instantly tottered back forward, his hand grabbing her wrist. "You're bleeding." Suddenly Maka could breathe because while Soul was still crying silently, his soul was easing back to his same usual message, that bubble of protection. "And you're not fucking wearing any shoes," his sigh was almost exasperated. "It's fucking cold out here, Maka."

"You didn't exactly give me time to put them on," Maka muttered.

Soul was unfurling her fists, checking the scrapes on her palms that were offering pinpricks of blood. "How the fuck…" but he trailed off with a sigh and started to turn away from her. "Come on, get on." He motioned towards his back.

'It's not even a block' would have been the normal response but her need for him instantly shirked it, the idea that he would let her touch him enough to urge her into the position. Soul hefted her onto his back and Maka wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

"You're choking me." In more ways than one, Soul finished. He still wanted to run, to be as far away as possible but the idea that she would beg him to come back instead of going away was digging into his heart. Maybe she just wants to murder me in the privacy of our own home.

"If you run again, I really will," Maka muttered as she rested her head on his shoulder and he started walking. It already felt exhausting, and all she wanted was to stay curled into him like this, but the reality was that this was nowhere near done, nowhere near explained. The only thing she'd won was him not running now.

"I…" his voice started as a croak and withered into a sigh before he could try again, "I guess I'm trapped." Maybe he slowed his steps on purpose, not just because she was an added weight but because his mind was still feeding him the idea that this would be the last moment of closeness he'd ever have with her. There was no explanation in the entire world that could fix what he'd done, to make it right, and Maka in her infinite comforting nature was just going to let him down easy.

Soul only dropped her when they got to the door, which both of them had left open in the fury, and immediately went to work getting the first aid kit. It was the only thing at the moment that could calm his mind, and as she sat on the couch he dropped next to her, splaying out the medical goods on the table.

"I need you to just listen." Soul could see the shift in her, the meister Maka coming through and making orders. "Just listen to me because I… I owe you an explanation of my own since you've technically said so much to me over the past week."

With what felt like a mouth full of sand, Soul could only nod in reply as his hands worked to clean hers.

"I'm not a prude," Maka finished that with a trickling laugh. "But searching that porn site? It was weird, difficult, and I just found myself flicking through page after page. That's when I kind of decided to do a search because… well, I put your name in the search bar."

His eyes only had the strength to flick to her face for a second but he caught the start of a smile and as he shot them back to her hands his mind started to race. She could feel it, he was sure, because she left a pause there, giving him time to rein it in and listen again.

"Again, I went page after page because none of that was what I wanted, and then I saw the name and, honestly, it was just chance, it was just a whim and I forced myself to click on the first video without it even loading." Maka made a little grunt as he wiped the antiseptic over her palms but she held onto her smile. "And I'm embarrassed to say I didn't recognize your voice at first. It wasn't until I saw your hand in the frame."

"My hand?" came the incredulous whisper.

"Yeah," Maka took a second to laugh at her own expense before pausing his work to turn his hand over. Her finger ran a delicate line across a scar near his thumb. "I remember every time you've gotten hurt. I… I can close my eyes and give you a list of each scar."

Everything was frozen except for his lips, "Same. For you, that is."

That fed her smile a little more, adding to the surety of her next words. "So I felt terrible. I stumbled across something that I knew I shouldn't have but… it felt nice to hear what you were feeling, to be let in even if maybe you didn't know it. That's why I ran to you, needed to hug you because for a second I felt so close and I honestly needed you to know that I couldn't hate you."

"But…" he sighed and stole one hand back to cover his face, a new wave of tears threatening.

"Can you…" Her voice cracked and she had to gulp air before reaching for the hand to pry it away from him, just the smallest gesture to encourage him not to hide. "No, I told you I'd talk, so, I'm going to guess and you can tell me after if I'm right because I think… I know you, Soul. I think I can say that even without the videos: that you and I know each other, and I think sometimes we might get each other better than we get ourselves."

"That's confusing," he muttered. Soul let her tear his hand away and he put it to work bandaging up her palms.

Maka rolled her shoulders only for herself. "Maybe it is… but I know I challenged you that first day, if you thought I was a prude and you thankfully kept your mouth shut."

He snorted a weak laugh, "You would have killed me no matter what I said."

"See? You know me," she mirrored his chuckle before continuing. "But I think… I think you do. I think, just like Black Star, you assume I don't want or understand the physical side."

"Maka-"

"No, that's OK," she squeezed his working hands for a second regardless of the sting. "I don't think I gave you a reason to think otherwise. The only reaction to that kind of stuff you've seen from me is the way that I act about Papa flirting with girls, and that's always with a through-the-roof level of disgust." Maka let out a withering sigh. "And to me, that is disgusting, but not for the reason you're thinking."

Soul risked another glance but couldn't get away, this time her green eyes boring into him, making him unable to look back at the work that was mostly finished in his hands.

"Papa doesn't love any of those girls," Maka tried to dismiss the rest of that feeling with another shrug. "That kind of… sex is just that. It's lust and I hate that, even if it does make me seem like a prude." She shook her head, trying to force those ideas out of her ears. "But if you were trying to make those videos to prove to me that you were just like him, like every other guy, you did a pretty bad job."

"What?" All the liquid in his eyes was sucked again by the confusion.

"Twice, just twice, you talked about the physical," Maka nibbled at her lip as she did the math. "That's two out of eleven and that's eighteen percent." Joy overwhelmed her momentarily as that elicited a real laugh from him. "So eighty-two percent of the time was you… just caring about me. And when I compare you to what I see as the regular teenage boy, like Black Star or maybe I should say Kilik since he's a little more normal, that's a completely rare ratio. That's nowhere near anyone else and it's nowhere near disgusting."

Here Maka had to turn her head away, staring into a space that didn't include him because this was opening her own door again and the hinges were squeaking painfully in her heart. "And I know I watch and read all those stupid romances, but that doesn't mean I expect or want a guy who just glances at me from across the room, who writes love letters, who buys flowers and makes some big romantic gestures to sweep me off my feet. What I want is someone who comforts me when I'm hurt," she felt the burn in her eyes but tried to hold it off, forcing the strength back into her voice. "Who encourages me when I don't feel like I can do it. Who can make me laugh, especially at myself. And the scariest part, the one that I guess I've been holding onto the most is that I want to believe I… that we could do what my parents couldn't."

Soul's fingers tightened carefully around hers, trying to avoid the scrapes but also aching for some kind of hold on her. "Are you…?"

"Don't puke," she hiccuped a laugh through the sob that was threatening, "but I don't think it's impossible for a meister to really love her weapon and, well, I hope vice versa." She stole away one hand even though his grip made it almost impossible and she let it cover her face for a second, trying to drive away the tears. "I… put your name in the search bar because you're the only person I've ever thought about like that. I've never wanted anyone else to kiss me, to touch me, to…" she shrugged weakly again, hitting her depth as her face flushed.

He didn't let her flounder because even though there was a match-strike of happiness starting to glow in his gut he wasn't about to puke. Soul was abandoning her hands instead so that he could grip her cheeks, coaxing her face back to him. "You mean that?"

"When's the last time that I lied to you just to make you feel better?" she murmured back breathlessly.

He grinned and his sigh turned into half a laugh. Soul waited just another minute, searching her face for a change, any ounce of dishonesty before he allowed what he usually never would, for his arms to wrap around her shoulders and pull her close. It was his hands searching for her now, clutching to her to try to quell that last inkling that she was getting away from him. "I'm sorry." He breathed the words out as he squeezed her, finding Maka pleasantly pliable and inching closer to melt into him.

"I don't want you to be." It was easy to breathe now especially as his hands moved without restraint to run up and down her back.

"For running," he clarified as one hand moved up to tempt at the edges of her hair. "I was sure that… I honestly still can't believe that the only reaction to that video wasn't to kick my ass or at least tell me you never wanted to see me again."

Maka's sigh was edging towards content as his hand drifted into her golden locks. "I can kick your ass if you really want me to."

"No, thanks," he offered back quickly followed by a breathy laugh. "I, uh," he paused to clear his throat. "That eighty-two percent, Maka…"

"Yes?" She had to prompt him since his fingers were sending her the message, the nervousness back in the way he grabbed at her instead of soft exploration.

"You know that's… I've always cared but that's… well, fuck, I might as well just fucking risk everything today," he muttered under his breath before sucking in air again. "I love you. Not just some lame 'I think' or 'maybe' either. That's what it is."

The happy hum that came from her mouth reverberated through the two of them and she could sense it shimmying right into his soul, settling him. "I'm maybe an even eighty."

"What happened to the two percent?"

Maka moved her well cared for palms to his chest, pressing the bandages there and forcing him to loosen his hold. The tears were gone from those ruby eyes that were now studying her, edging towards playful like this was any other night. "Because I'm guilty of thinking about this more." She didn't give him the time to offer a quip, just falling headfirst into the moment like she was apt to do. The way her lips latched to his echoed her claim since they were in no way hesitant.

Soul didn't follow the tried and true pattern of their life, mirroring her fervor and stealing the control from her. Maka happily gave it up and while Soul was giving her a small corner of what he promised by nibbling at her lower lip, she was pulling him closer, encouraging that shift in his weight. Pressing her into the couch was most certainly not where Soul had imagined he'd end up by this time and just as her head hit one of the throw pillows he pulled back, a shaky sigh leaving his lips. "Can we… I can't believe I'm fucking asking this," he quickly muttered again as he moved an unsteady hand to her hair, clearing it from her face. "Can we slow down?"

Even with all the courage, the reality hit her, and Maka's face lit up. "I mean, I wasn't-" She pressed her lips together for a second as her face sunk deeper towards tomato colored. "All we were doing was kissing."

Soul grunted out a laugh, "You noticed you dragged me on top of you, right?"

"Sort of," Maka murmured as her fingers worried at his shirt. "I like it."

"I like it, too," he chuckled. "But maybe just this for tonight, OK?" Soul ran a thumb down the line of her jaw. "I just still feel kind of… I don't know. Worried, maybe. Keep thinking I'm about to wake up from this and it'll all be gone."

"Then maybe…" Maka twisted as far into the seam of the couch as she could, easing him down nose to nose next to her. "Tell me. Talk to me and I'll do whatever else I can. Just maybe with a few kisses in between."