a/n: hi i love you okay thank you bye

chapter three: death by bikini

Maka in a swimsuit will be the death of him.

"You're heading out?"

Soul pauses on his way to the sink for a brief moment before continuing on his path, rinsing out his bowl then placing it in the dishwasher. He waits until his hands are dried before he turns to face his brother.

Wes is leaning against the doorway, a strangely calm expression on his face. Despite the early hour of the day and no place to be that Soul knows of, his older brother is dressed to the nines like he always is, a crisp white button-up and slacks fitted perfectly to his frame. Both of them share the same lanky height and bizarre coloring, but Wes has always been slightly more filled out than Soul's lazy, introverted ass is, and the four years between them somehow feel much wider—yet at the same time not at all.

They're not close. They never have been. Wes is the prodigal son, an expert violinist with a brilliant future ahead of him and the charm to boot. Soul, on the other hand, can adequately play the piano but is nothing special compared to his brother and everyone knows it.

Wes has always tried to bridge the gap between them, but his kindness and attention to his brother's feelings of inadequacy only feel like pity to Soul, and it makes the resentment impossible to avoid.

Soul tries not to snap at Wes most of the time, knowing his brother is only desperate for Soul to love him and would do anything to make him happy, but there's only so much that can be done on Wes's end. A relationship is a two-way street. Until Soul is ready to reach for that olive branch Wes has been holding out to him since they were kids, the two of them are never going to have a decent relationship.

Soul knows he should be happy for his brother. He knows that. He should be proud of his success, glad for his kindness, and accepting of the help Wes always tries to give him.

He's just not ready yet.

"Yeah," Soul answers finally. "Maka's picking me up in a few minutes."

"You know, usually it's the guy who has to pick up the girl for dates," Wes says casually. "Mom would have an aneurysm if she knew you were letting your girlfriend drive you around."

Soul scowls. "First of all, Maka's not my girlfriend; we've only known each other for a month, since that party Mom and Dad threw at the beginning of the summer vacation. Secondly, this isn't a date. We're meeting the others at Blake's before we head to the beach together."

"Still, you should at least offer to pick her up instead. Open the door for her. It's the chivalrous thing to do."

"She can open her own damn door," Soul mutters. "To be honest, she'd probably make fun of me if I tried."

Wes smiles faintly. "You might be right."

That's it. "Okay, what's your deal with Maka?" Soul demands. "You've been acting weird ever since you found out I'm friends with her. Do you like her or something? Is that why you're being so weird?"

To his surprise, Wes gets really quiet. He frowns at his hands for a moment before raising his eyes to meet Soul's. "Doesn't matter what I think. What matters is how you feel, and I can tell from the way you look at that girl that you think she walks on water."

"What—you—it's not—"

"I'm not teasing you about it," interrupts Wes. "I'm being serious. You like Maka, and I'm glad that you do. She's a great girl, Soul. Kind, smart, funny, selfless. You couldn't choose any better. It's just..."

"What?"

His brothers rubs a tired hand over his face. "Go easy on her, alright? She had a rough time of it in high school and she doesn't deserve to be led around if you're not serious about this."

"Yeah, I know. She told me she was a bit of a nerd then but I don't see how that—"

"Is that what she told you?"

Soul stares at his older brother, not liking the look on his face. "What? Was she lying?"

Wes grimaces. "No, it's not—she wasn't lying, Soul. It's just an oversimplification, is all."

"An oversimplification? What the hell are you talking about?"

They're interrupted by the sound of an obnoxiously lyrical doorbell ringing through the house. If Soul hadn't been staring intently at his brother, he would've missed the strange look that flickers across Wes's face at the sound, and the equally strange look that settles as he says casually, "Guess that's her," and walks right out of the kitchen, leaving Soul nothing to do but follow him.

"Wes!" Maka is beaming when Wes opens the door, and Soul gets a front-row seat to her smile when his brother presses a kiss to her cheek. Soul is really starting to dislike the greeting. "You're still here. I thought you were headed back to Europe?"

"Nah, decided I had enough traveling for a while. Wanted to stay home, network a bit, spend time with my brother before he starts his senior year."

"And I keep stealing him away from you." Maka cringes. "My bad. I've been needy. I'll leave him alone tomorrow so you guys have a brothers' day together."

Soul jolts to attention. "What? No! You don't need to do that!"

She gives him a chiding look. "Your brother cancelled a tour so he could spend time with you. Don't be mean."

"It's fine," Wes chuckles. "Don't abandon my brother for my sake. He likes you a hell of a lot more than he likes me anyway."

"Oh, I doubt that's true."

But it is. From the meaningful look Wes exchanges with him, Soul knows his brother is aware of what he's thinking. It makes him feeling impossibly worse about the situation yet somehow not remorseful in the slightest.

He won't apologize for choosing to spend his free time this summer with Maka, not when every time he and Wes have done things together, it's resulted in some sort of colossal fuck-up. She's the only person he ever feels remotely comfortable around. Being with Wes just makes him feel wholly inadequate, which doesn't help their relationship at all. If anything, the more time they spend together, the worse it gets.

Especially now.

"Actually," Wes says, "if you're not doing anything near the end of the summer, do you want to go to a concert with us? I was given free passes through my company and I was going to ask Soul to come with me, but I have a few extra tickets."

Soul chokes on air as Maka's face brightens. "Really? I'd love that!" She pauses slightly. "Are you sure though? I don't want to intrude on any brotherly bonding time, especially if—"

"Don't be silly, Maka. I wouldn't have invited you if I didn't want you there." The corner of his mouth twitches. "Besides, maybe now that you're coming, Soul won't make up some excuse to ditch me last minute."

Much to their surprise, Maka merely shakes her head. "That's not Soul's fault. Some days it's just harder than others to work up the nerve to face other people, especially in public settings. I get it; I'm still the same way sometimes, even though I've gotten a lot better since the height of my anxiety." She gives Soul a smile that makes his chest warm far past healthy levels. "He's actually a lot better than I was before. I'm grateful every time he's sweet enough to indulge me by keeping me company. He doesn't owe me anything, but he'll drag himself out of bed for my sake anyway."

Soul can only stare at her in shock.

How is it they've only known each other a month and she already knows him that well? No one has ever—ever—spoken about his tendency to bail on plans last minute as anything other than a nuisance. They call him a flake, unreliable, untrustworthy. His parents still berate him constantly every time his anxiety gets in the way of an appearance at a stupid party or a performance in front of crowds that make him want to hide in a corner and die. Even Blake complains and groans whenever Soul chooses solitude over his company. After all, it's how he's gone this long without meeting Spartoi in the first place.

But not only does Maka show she understands by not berating him for it, but she also defends him in front of Wes. Perfect, understanding Wes who no one ever disagrees with.

Soul has wanted to kiss Maka countless times since he first met her, but this... this clearly takes the cake.

Wes seems just as taken aback as Soul is, but he recovers much quicker, his expression becoming very, very soft. "You're right. I know I'm a little too hard on him sometimes. I know it's not his fault."

"It's not your fault either, Wes," she says gently. "You do your best. Besides, I've met your parents. Trust me when I say how hard it can be to function normally under that level of overbearingness."

"Spirit is still overcompensating by smothering you?"

"He barged into my bedroom with a baseball bat the other day because he had a dream that I was talking to a boy," she deadpans. "A dream."

Wes bursts out laughing before he can stop himself, then laughs even harder when she smacks his arm.

"It's not funny, Wes! I was trying to sleep!"

"Let me guess: you jolted out of bed and laid him out on his ass on instinct." His grin widens when she pouts adorably but doesn't answer. "That's what I thought. You're a little menace, aren't you?"

"I'm cute," she huffs stubbornly.

"You're capable of beating up a man more than twice your size."

"Still cute!"

"Yeah, yeah, she's adorable, we get it," Soul grumbles unhappily. "Can you be all nauseatingly charming and Wes-like later? Everyone is supposed to meet at Blake's soon and I don't want to have to explain that we're late because my big brother likes to hit on my friends."

"To be fair, Maka was my friend first." When Soul growls like a gremlin fed after midnight, Wes flashes a smile that manages to be both innocent and conniving all in one. Soul inwardly contemplates the pros and cons of putting a hit on his brother.

"We'll figure out the details for the concert later?" Maka asks hopefully.

Wes softens. "I'd like that." Then, because life hates Soul, his brother adds, "Hopefully by then my little brother will find his chill and stop acting like an old man who hasn't gotten his rocks off since nineteen-fifty-two."

"Wes!"

"I've been trying to pull the stick from his butt for weeks now," Maka agrees, "but for some reason he still walks around like he has a permanent cramp in his perky little ass cheeks."

"MAKA!"

"Must've left a splinter," Wes says solemnly.

"It wasn't ready."

"We pushed too soon."

Maka nods like she's commemorating a fallen comrade. "Now he'll be backed up for eternity."

"OH MY GOD."

Five minutes later and way too many jokes at the expense of their own personal dartboard to count, Maka and Soul climb into her car with the latter pouting like a child who got the wrong McDonald's toy in his Happy Meal.

She keeps sneaking glances at him as they pull out of his driveway on the way to Blake's, but he refuses to meet her eyes and maintains his crossed arms like a life vest off a sinking ship. With each passing second, he feels more and more like a spoiled brat and less and less inclined to fold for the sake of his stupid, stubborn pride.

"Soul?"

"…What?" he grumbles moodily.

"You really do have a cute butt."

He should've stayed home.

When Soul agreed to go with Spartoi to Venice today (read: was blackmailed by Blake into coming), somehow he didn't fully register the fact that Maka would be wearing a swimsuit. Even though they live in LA, it's been years since Soul has willingly dragged his introverted ass to a beach—much less one as crowded as Venice Beach—and the thought of cute crushes in cute bikinis had completely slipped his mind.

But he definitely notices now.

He's used to seeing her hang out at his place in tiny skirts and slinky tops while they play video games ("Shorts are uncomfortable and always ride up in painful ways, Soul. Skirts are so much better!"); she wore the cutest summer dress when they went to the county fair with Blake; and whenever they voice chat while playing League, he always tries to image her wearing a fluffy onesie that obscures her entire frame so he doesn't become the lame guy who gets a boner every time he so much as hears her voice.

Then of course there's the time when he saw her breasts before he even knew her name and secured his bumbling dork reputation in her presence that the others still tease him for to this day.

And yet, when he sees Maka wearing this avocado green bikini that sits high on her hips and ties with a tiny bow between the first pair of breasts he's seen since he was an infant, his lungs almost physically stop working. It takes everything he has to remember that passing out on dry ground in the middle of a beach would redefine the meaning of uncool.

Watching as Tsubaki smooths sunscreen all over Maka's lean back while she slathers her arms and impossibly long legs… Well, that certainly doesn't help either.

"Breathe, Soul. You need to breathe," Patty giggles by his side. Unfortunately, he can't tear his gaze away from Maka as she finishes returning the favor to Tsubaki by applying sunscreen on the dark-haired girl's back in turn. Both of their lips are clearly moving. At one point, Tsubaki blushes and makes an adamant gesture with her hands, causing Maka to throw her head back and laugh.

Soul's chest bursts.

"He's not very subtle, is he," he hears Harvar comment amusedly, and Ox snickers in response.

"Poor kid doesn't know how to manage his face. It'd almost be cute if it weren't so sad."

"Ox, I don't think you're in any place to judge Soul considering you salivate every time Kim so much as looks your way."

"S-shut up, Liz! I do not!"

"Case in point." Soul feels a hand on his arm and turns to see Liz watching him with a wry expression on her face. "Close your mouth, Evans. There's only so much I can say in your defense when you're digging your own grave like this."

Snapping his jaw shut, he averts his gaze and prays to the lord they're all stupid enough to believe in that his red face is because of the heat. "I don't know what you're talking about."

God tests him when Maka catches him staring and gives him a bright smile that makes up for every bad day he's ever had in his entire life.

God tests him even more when she ends her conversation with Tsubaki and walks over to him, dropping down to a crouch in front of the beach mat he has taken sanctuary on, her brilliant green eyes levelling with his.

"Aren't you going to change, Soul? Where's your bathing suit?"

You can do this, he tells himself. Remain cool. Do not freak out. Do not pass Go. Cool, damn it! Like a fucking cucumber—wait, shit, not a cucumber! That looks too much like a dick. Maybe an ice cube? Fuck, Maka's skin looks so warm and soft right now. Would an ice cube melt quickly against her skin as I dragged it across or would she simply gasp at the chill? Shit—Soul, focus! No thinking about her breasts or cucumber dicks or stupid B-movie sex scenes... Do you fucking want to spring a boner in front of her right now? You IDIOT!

"—oul? Are you okay? Soul!"

He blinks out of his daze when he realizes Maka is waving her hand in front of his face and all their so-called friends are failing at hiding their snickers behind him. He might as well have been set on fire for how hot his face is. "S-sorry, did you say something?"

At his back, Blake is practically howling with laughter and it takes everything inside Soul's dignity to keep from punching the asshole out.

Thankfully, Maka is an angel and decides to spare him as she hides a smile and says simply, "I was just wondering if you were going to change so you could come swimming with me."

He grimaces. "You go on ahead. I'll join you a little later." He's a little too worked up right now to move in close quarters with a wet Maka wearing that swimsuit in this heat. He'd probably drown, and death by uncontrollable boner isn't exactly the way he wants to go.

Seriously, how do normal people survive at the beach with pretty, too-sweet crushes wearing teeny tiny bathing suits like Maka? Is there some sort of secret he's not in on?

Though clearly disappointed—which he tries not to read too much into—Maka nods and straightens up, saying, "I'll hold you to it!" before turning to run off towards Tsubaki with Kim and Jackie.

"You're an idiot," Liz tells him with a shake of her head as she follows the others.

Most of Spartoi ends up joining the girls in the water. Soul doesn't blame them—but at the same time, he's a little relieved to be left alone to guard their stuff under a beach umbrella, watching from a safe distance as Maka and the girls scream in the water when Blake makes a big entrance as per usual.

That is, until he realizes he isn't alone.

Here's the thing. As crazy as they are, Soul likes Blake and Maka's friends. Tsubaki is probably the gentlest human being in the universe, a pseudo-maternal figure for Spartoi. Patty is eccentric but always kind, and her older sister may make a game out of teasing Soul for his crush on Maka but Liz has made it clear on several occasions that she does have his back. Ox may be a bit of a dick but he means well and Harvar is probably one of the most laid-back people he's ever met. Though Kim's a bit hard around the edges, she's considerably softer around Jacqueline, and Kid—well, Kid is Kid. For all his faults, he did help haul Soul into a safe bed at Kim's party and only complained once.

But then there's Kilik Rung.

The thing is, Kilik is an all-around Good Guy. He's cool, easygoing, and seems to be the only person in all of Spartoi who can rally with every single one of the others without getting worked up. (Maka fails spectacularly whenever Blake is involved, and Blake is just an explosion on his own.) Ever since Soul met the guy, he's been nothing but friendly and generous, not the least bit unwelcoming, which has helped a lot with Soul's utter social ineptitude.

Unfortunately, Soul remembers what Liz had explained at Kim's party about the dark-skinned boy often taking residence in Maka's bed. Ever since then, Soul can't help but inspect every interaction between the two of them, even when it's something as small as Kilik handing her a can of pop without her asking for it or Maka laughing at his jokes despite the fact that everyone else is, too.

He knows he has no right to feel jealous. After all, he's only known Maka for just over a month, she's in no way his girlfriend, and her past shouldn't matter to him anyway.

And yet.

Forcing himself not to tense, Soul leans palm on his hands and casually asks, "You're not going to join the others?"

"Nah, doesn't seem right to leave you to watch all our stuff on your own." Kilik slides him a glance. "Plus, I figured the two of us should probably clear the air so you stop feeling the need to avoid my eyes every time we cross paths—which, if you haven't figured out yet, will be quite often now that you've joined Spartoi."

Busted. "I don't know what you're talking about," Soul lies.

True to form, Kilik only grins, not directly calling him out on it but acknowledging his awkwardness all the same. "You can ask me, you know. I don't bite and I always tell the truth, no matter what it is."

Inwardly, Soul grimaces. Watches the small shapes of his new friends as they flit across the waterline. Even from this distance, he can tell Blake is being overbearing and the girls are threatening to drown his ass if he splashes them one more time. That's how well he's starting to know their personalities after only a few weeks.

What's keeping him from taking Kilik up on his offer? Jealousy, because Kilik's seen Maka naked for more than a split second in Kid's backyard before she jumps in the pool? Or fear, because he's scared that Maka and Kilik are still sleeping together and Soul doesn't want to face the possibility of knowing she's off-limits?

Eventually he works up the nerve to open his mouth, but what comes out isn't the question either of them expect: "Do you love her?"

Kilik startles, clearly taken aback. He looks down at the sand beneath his fingers, raking his hand though the fine grands for a moment before he says quietly, "I do love her, but I'm not sure if it's in the way you mean. You know that Maka, Blake, and I grew up together, right?"

Soul nods. That's never been a secret. While all eleven of them are pretty close now, Maka, Blake, and Kilik are the only ones who've known each other since they were children. They'd been thrown together with the same nannies and sitters by their parents and eventually grew to be quite close. They didn't meet most of the others until middle school, and Soul hadn't been graced with Blake's presence until their freshman year of high school.

"I've always been a little jealous of Blake and Maka's relationship," Kilik admits. "I know, I know. It may not seem like they're close with how much they rag on each other, but they are. Incredibly so. Sure, they bicker over everything and fight like cats and dogs, but they care deeply about each other and would burn the entire world to the ground if the other got hurt. Even though it was the three of us growing up, they just… clicked in a way that was harder for me. For a long time, I felt like I was just there. A third-wheel to their two-person world-ruling brigade.

"As we got older," he continues wistfully, "Maka seemed to realize that I was pulling away and confronted me about it. Said that I was being ridiculous. Said she and Blake may have been more outspoken and headstrong, but I was just as much a part of their team as they were and they'd be lost if I left. That helped a lot with my insecurities, as I'm sure you know. Maka has a way of making people feel like they're important even when they're at their absolute lowest."

Soul grimaces at the weight that tightens within his chest.

"But that's the thing," Kilik says. "I don't remember a time when the two of them weren't a huge part of my life, Maka especially. We've never had a chance to be more than just friends so I've never tried to quantify my feelings in any other way. I'm content with the way things are. She's one of my favorite people in the world and I wouldn't change that for anything."

Blunt and honest, just as he'd promised. Doesn't mean it doesn't still sting. "But if you had the chance to be with her, really be with her… you'd take it?"

A pause. "Wouldn't you?"

Fair point. "Liz said—" Soul breaks off, clenches his fists, and starts again. "Liz said you and Maka slept together often. Did she mean it or was she exaggerating?"

"If you're asking for a number, I can't give that to you. We've had this arrangement since we were fifteen. I've never kept track."

Which means it's happened a lot. Soul tries not to tense. "Were you her first?"

Kilik's shoulders stiffen noticeably, taut muscles under dark skin coiling like a tightened wire about to snap. "No."

"She was yours though," Soul guesses knowingly.

Another pause. "Yes."

"Do you still…?"

"Not since she met you," Kilik answers honestly. When Soul glances over, the quarterback is gazing out at the water like Soul had been, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out who he's staring at. "I've always let Maka instigate things between us because I've been scared to overstep my bounds, but I knew from the moment she met you that she wouldn't be calling me anymore. Not like that."

"Why?" Soul blurts out before he can consider the possibility that what he's asking is insensitive, especially since Kilik basically just admitted he'd love Maka if she let him. He flinches. "Shit, I didn't mean… You don't have to—"

"It's fine," Kilik says with a small smile. "I know you're not a malicious person, and I'm the one who opened this door anyway. It's just a little hard to explain." He closes his eyes and inhales deeply, as if trying to gather his thoughts. "You've met her father, right?"

"Yeah." Unfortunately.

"Spirit loves her so much, but he's… not the best parent, and he definitely isn't the best role model. Because of that, she's always had a skewed sense of sex and relationships. Emotions, though," Kilik continues, trailing off as he opens his eyes. "Maka isn't a hurtful person. She's far from it; you need to know that. But she does have trouble dealing with her emotions and that makes it hard for people who care for her sometimes, because how can you tell how she really feels about you if she's nice and fun and flirty to everyone? How can you know when she's sad or hurt when she smiles through everything, no matter how much pain she's in? How can you love her when she won't let you see her with her guard down?"

Everything Kilik is saying hits hard with Soul—because he knows he's right and that makes it incredibly difficult to swallow.

Maka is a sunshine girl; anyone who meets her sees that. And yet these sunshine girls are usually the ones who hurt the most because they'll cut off an arm and a leg to help others and they'll do it with a smile. Selfless in that way, and yet selfish because she will more than likely push others away before she lets them see her pain.

If she hadn't told Wes about her own struggles with anxiety to defend him, Soul never would've imagined she'd felt that way before, too—and he has a feeling she never would've told him herself if it hadn't come up then. She still hasn't, in a way. Despite her reveal, they haven't acknowledged it since.

"You get it then?" Kilik says quietly, watching as the realizations settle upon Soul's face. "Maka is amazing with a lot of things but dealing with her emotions isn't one of them. It's why she doesn't date or lead people on who expect more than she can give them. And she definitely isn't the kind of girl who can ever sleep with a guy if she thinks she has feelings for someone else."

His breath stutters slightly. "You think she likes me?"

"I think she doesn't know what she feels, but I also think if she let herself feel it, you could end up being really important to her. I think, maybe, you already are."

"I'm sorry." Soul hadn't realized it until this moment, until Kilik said those last three words, but he knows now just how much Kilik hadn't been doing this for him like he'd originally thought—to be nice or open or clear the air or whatever he'd insinuated at first.

No, Kilik Rung had done this for Maka. Because despite what he said earlier, he loves her, wholly, deeply, completely—so thoroughly that he's resigned himself to discuss his sex life with the guy he thinks his girl might fall for. To protect her. To warn the other guy to keep her safe.

Apparently Soul doesn't have a monopoly on denial.

Kilik smiles sadly, and being on a sunny beach surrounded by laughter and squeals and fun makes it hurt that much more. "You're a good guy, Evans. Blake has said as much, and Maka certainly wouldn't have chosen you if it weren't true. Just… know that we're protective of her. You may be a good guy, but it doesn't mean we won't beat your ass if you ever fucking hurt her."

The threat comes so out of nowhere that Soul can't help but burst out laughing. "You're alright, Rung." He extends his fist, and Kilik cracks a grin as he bumps it with his own.

"We're cool then?"

"Yeah," Soul says, and is surprised to find that he means it. "We're cool."

Soul never thought it was possible to get kicked off a beach, but somehow Blake almost manages to make it happen—twice!—and the only person who is moderately pleased is Liz, but only because she thinks the cop who warned them is hot.

Kid, however, is decidedly not pleased.

"We go to an all-girls school," Liz is explaining when her non-boyfriend gives her the silent treatment as he flips burgers and kabobs on their portable barbecue for lunch. "It's not my fault that we're hard-pressed for male eye-candy. Jackie is lucky she only has eyes for the ladies and Tsu just has the worst taste in men anyway—"

"Hey!" Tsubaki and Blake protest in unison.

"—but I have more refined tastes. I like to appreciate fine art when it's presented to me." When Kid continues to ignore her, Liz rolls her eyes then proceeds to dramatically cup her hand as she whispers something into his ear.

Kid turns a shade of red that rivals the color Soul had been when Maka climbed on his shoulders for a game of Chicken Fight earlier. The dark-haired male proceeds to cough violently before saying to Liz, very shyly, "Do you want your kabobs light or extra grilled?"

Even Soul can't help but snicker.

"I didn't know the five of you went to an all-girls school," Soul comments later when they're all settled around two picnic tables they've pushed together. "I thought you guys just went to another prep school in the area besides Shibusen."

"Nope," Jackie chirps, popping the 'p.' "Have you met our parents? They're strict as hell. The only reasons they let us hang out around these guys are because they think Kilik and Harvar are first-class gentlemen, we'd never touch weirdos like Ox and Blake with a ten-foot pole, and Kid is asexual."

"Ironic considering Harvar's the biggest manslut of them all and Kid apparently likes it very kinky," says Kim.

Kid whips his head towards his non-girlfriend in horrified accusation. "LIZ!"

"Aw, don't worry, babe," she croons, "I promise I only tell them the good things."

"The only person they're moderately correct about is Kilik," adds Kim, "though we might think differently if he and Maka stopped being prudes and disclosed more details about their sex life."

Maka winks. "Sorry, Kim, I don't fuck and tell."

"And apparently I'm a gentleman, though that's certainly news to me." Kilik raises his brows at Maka. "What do you say, sweetheart? Think I earned it?"

"Eh," she hums with a noncommittal shrug. "I prefer it when you're not being gentle, to be honest." She bursts out laughing when all their friends explode in a flurry of very non-PG comments, dissuading each one with a coy zipper mimed across her lips.

If this exchange had happened before his enlightening conversation with Kilik, Soul might've died on the spot from spontaneous ruin and heartbreak. Now, though—well, it still fucking hurts like hell, if he's being honest, because thinking about any other guy putting their hands on her makes him want to rip out his stomach, but at least he understands her a little better and acknowledges that this kind of teasing is just her humor.

She doesn't say these things to hurt him. It's just her defense mechanism—her fun, flirty norm. Kilik said he thinks that Maka may have feelings for Soul, and while that may or may not be true, what he needs to be okay with is that it may take her some time to come to terms with how to deal with that.

And that's more than alright with Soul. As long as she's here. As long as he gets to spend time with her at all.

"What about you, Ox, and Harvar?" Soul asks Kilik, extending a question as his version of an olive branch. "You guys don't go to Shibusen either, but I know you play ball. Are you at all all-boys school?"

Kilik shares a secret grin. "Nah, the three of us go to a public school."

"A public school?" Soul blubbers. "Are you serious? Your parents let that happen?"

Harvar laughs at the look of utter astonishment on Soul's face. "The three of us wanted to play football competitively and private school teams are shit. Filled with pretty boys who are far too scared to get their hands dirty to rut properly. When Kilik earned a place on the public school's team and the coach's promises began filling his dad's ears, it wasn't hard to convince the rest of our parents to let us avoid prep."

"It's so much easier for you boys," Liz complains. "The guys are ten times hotter at public schools, but our father would sooner chain me and Patty in the basement than let us attend an institution in the public sector."

"Don't worry, Liz, you're not missing anything at coed schools," Maka promises. "Totally overrated. Would've saved me a lot of problems if I'd gone to an all-girls school like you."

Liz throws an accusing finger at her. "You don't get to talk to me right now, Albarn. You went to school with Wes freaking Evans. They had the hottest class at Shibusen ever! Plus, the college boys you bring home… ugh, I hate you."

Kid snaps the spatula in his hand, stares at it for a moment, then tosses it aside before grabbing another one and proceeding to flip burgers as if nothing happened.

"Please don't tell me you find my brother hot." Soul gags dramatically to hide the fact that he's wounded by the mention of Maka sleeping with multiple college boys.

He knows what university settings are like nowadays—booze, sex, and parties galore—but his mind refuses to associate Maka with those things even though she's gotten him drunk on more than one occasion. To him, she's an angel sent from heaven, and he really doesn't want those daydreams to be replaced by nightmares of other guys spending time between her long, perfect legs.

Harvar grins at him. "Considering you and your brother look a lot alike, I feel like you're insulting yourself."

Soul's frown deepens. "How do you know my brother?"

"Dude, everyone knows your brother," Blake says, rolling his eyes. "He's all my mom fucking talks about. Perfect Wes with his perfect music career and perfect manners. If she tells me to be more like Wes one more time, I may off him myself."

"Wes is in town," Maka offers cheekily, and a loud chorus of groans instantly takes over half the table.

"Why the fuck would you say that?" Blake whines. "Don't you realize what you've started?"

But the damage is done. The girls are already exploding with excitement, going on about how they can't believe Wes Evans is back, will he come to one of their parties, will he play for them, is he as handsome and charming in person as he is in every single one of his stories?

Then they remember that Wes Evans' little brother is sitting with them and they immediately start interrogating him about the prodigal violinist. With a groan, Soul slinks into his seat away from the prying questions and shoots Maka a betrayed look across the table, to which she only responds with an innocent smile and a mouthed apology they know she doesn't mean.

He knows she probably didn't mean to irritate him with the girls' unleashed line of questioning—probably didn't even realize what she was doing—but when he catches the small frown on Kilik's face as the broad man watches Maka intently, Soul can't help but wonder if there's more he's missing than he realizes.

Soul and Maka make a break for it when the others are distracted.

All twelve of them are strolling down Venice's infamous boardwalk, buying cotton candy and ice cream and useless trinkets they'll never use again while watching some of the street performers as they pass. Apparently the girls are familiar with one of the shirtless fire breathers, and they drag the guys into the surrounding crowd so they can openly ogle and swoon at his lack of dress.

Blake Barrett does not appreciate when someone steals his spotlight.

Just as the blue-haired idiot issues a boisterous challenge to the fire breather that has the rest of Spartoi groaning with embarrassment and exasperation—"They're going to kick us off the beach and we'll never be able to show our faces here again!" Liz whines—Maka snatches Soul's hand and mimes a finger over her mouth, giggling silently as she leads him away from the crowd.

That's how they end up here: holding hands as they stroll down the boardwalk, with Maka's bright eyes lighting up at ridiculous items being sold in some of the shops and her lips parting with awe at the different buskers that are putting on shows all down the way.

"You're like a puppy," Soul mumbles affectionately, even though he's well aware that he's the one following her around like a loyal mutt on a leash.

She only beams.

"Shouldn't we go back to the others soon?" He doesn't want to, of course, because being alone with Maka as she pays attention to him and only him is always the best part of his day.

Even under the rapidly setting sun, he can see the faint pink dusting over her cheekbones. "I—not yet. I just want to walk around with you a little more. Is that okay?"

How does he say hell fucking yeah without thoroughly embarrassing himself and surrendering every ounce of cool he's never had? "S-sure."

Nailed it.

Wandering around with Maka is very different from wandering around with the entirety of Spartoi. For one thing, there isn't a rowdy blue-haired mongrel attracting attention everywhere they go with his loud outbursts and tendency for dramatic flairs. They don't have to stop at every stall so Kid can straighten the signs and displays before being dragged away by Liz, and they don't have to watch as Ox attempts to buy Kim's affections with a collection of overpriced souvenirs that she merely turns her nose up at.

But Maka is no less lively without the others around. With her damp hair falling in waves down her back and her summer skirt flowing in a way that reveals way too much of her long, creamy thighs, she looks more like a festival spirit than an actual girl, all bright eyes and wondrous smiles and gasping noises of amazement whenever she sees something that catches her eye. They live barely twenty minutes away from this beach and she's acting like this is her first time here. Like she's a child going to Disneyland for the first time.

Soul finds it ridiculously adorable.

He finds her ridiculously adorable.

"What?" she asks when she catches him staring for the nth time. She has a half-eaten churro in one hand and his palm in the other, and as she lowers the sugary treat from her lips while tilting her head curiously to the side, Soul thinks she's the prettiest thing he's ever fucking seen.

"N-nothing."

But her brows pull together, seeing through his ruse. "Soul? Are you tired? I know it's been a long day; we can head back if you're beat."

"No!" he blurts out. "It's not—I didn't—that isn't what—"

And then, in a brief moment of what must either be courage or insanity, he cups her cheek in his hand and presses his lips to the space between her brows as if to smooth the frown that has grown there. When he pulls back, face eternally crimson, he feels warm to realize that she's just as red. Her pink, sugary lips are parted with surprise.

"I'm good," he manages to say without choking. "I—I promise. I'm really good."

Her shy smile is everything, and in that moment, he vows that he'll do anything and everything just to see it again.

"KYAAAAA!" a loud voice squeals nearby. "MAKA-CHAN! Maka-chan, is that you?!"

Soul watches as Maka's eyes widen significantly before she turns just in time to be nearly tackled to the ground by a tall, dark-haired woman wearing a tiny black dress and what appears to be cat ears.

"Maka-chan! It is you!" The woman practically smothers the tiny blonde with hugs by shoving her face directly between her boobs. "Oh, Bu-tan is so happy to see you! My little kitten is all grown up! It's been too long!"

"Blair, stop," Maka laughs as she shoves playfully away from the woman's grasp, wincing away from her breasts so she's able to breathe. "It's barely been a month. You're acting like I've abandoned you for years."

The woman named Blair pouts like she's five years old instead of in her twenties. Now that she's no longer smothering Maka, Soul can tell that her hair is actually a dark purple color instead of black and she's wearing these bright yellow contacts that make her eyes almost as big and pouty as Maka's. "It feels like it! You know Bu-tan doesn't like to go very long without seeing her kitten. It makes Bu-tan sad. Very sad!"

"Yes, yes, I'm very sorry. I promise I won't let it happen again." Though the way Maka pets the woman's head could be considered condescending, there's a fondness in her expression that makes it clear that this crazy woman is somehow important to Maka. That she's used to this behavior and accepts it with an open heart.

"Um," says Soul.

Maka grins at the dumbfounded look on his face. "Soul, this is Blair. My mom used to babysit her when they were younger, and eventually she became like a pseudo big sister for me when I was born. Like an unofficial godmother. She's always been really close, even after my parents got divorced."

"It's only unofficial because Kitten's mama is mean to Bu-tan now! So mean!"

"Blair, you slept with my dad."

"Only four times," the cat woman insists. "And only after they split up!" There's a brief pause, then, sheepishly, "Okay, maybe a couple times before they broke up, too."

Surprisingly, when Maka rolls her eyes, there's no malice or discomfort in her gaze, only good-natured amusement. "Blair, this is Soul. He goes to school with Blake and has just been initiated into Spartoi this summer, so be nice. He's a shy one."

"Hey!" Soul protests indignantly. "I am not sh—sssshit shit shit!" He squeaks out a very uncool sound when the Blair woman throws herself at him next, trying to smother him with her breasts the way she had to Maka. He ducks and yelps and pushes, but for a girl wearing five-inch heels, she is strong. And persistent.

"Kyaaa, he's so cute, Maka-chan! Look at his hair! And his eyes—oh my goodness, are those real? Bu-tan is so jealous!"

"Hey hey hey, that's so not cool! Maka, please! HELP!"

After Blair is finally wrangled away from Soul by an amused Maka, the cat woman drapes her arms dejectedly over Maka's shoulders from behind like a little girl clutching her teddy bear. Maka sighs but doesn't try to detangle herself as Blair buries her face in Maka's hair, and Soul shudders at the blonde's patience. He doesn't know how she does it. That woman is dangerous.

"Blair is a professional cosplayer," Maka explains, gesturing to the woman's ridiculously showy get-up. "Mostly for cat-girl characters. You might've heard of her?" When Soul stares at her blankly, she bites back a smile and adds, "She's really big in Japan."

That earns her a dreamy sigh. "Bu-tan would love to move to Japan permanently, but only if Maka-chan moves with her. Bu-tan can't imagine never seeing her little kitten for months at a time—that would be worse than torture!"

Maka's expression softens and she reaches up to gently stroke the woman's head on her shoulder. "I'd miss you too, Blair."

The woman purrs happily, tightening her grip around Maka's slim shoulders and burying her face deeper into her hair. "Bu-tan didn't know that Kitten had a boyfriend though—you never date anyone, ever! Not even Kilik-kun, and Kilik-kun has loved Kitten forever!" Seemingly oblivious to both Soul and Maka's flinch, Blair continues, "Is Soul-boy nice to you? Does he treat you well? Is he good in bed? You have to promise Bu-tan that you'll always be safe and wear condoms, even if he says he's clean. Boys will always try to take advantage of sweet girls like Kitten and even though Bu-tan wants grandbabies, she knows Kitten wants to finish school first and become a fancy kid doctor."

While Soul chokes on air, Maka assures her patiently, "Don't worry, Blair, I promise Soul treats me very, very well."

He dies. Just a little.

It takes another twenty minutes of coddling and reassurances before Blair lets them go on their way, and Soul barely waits until they're around several stalls away when he grips Maka's hand and hisses, "You're evil, you know that? Pure. Adorable. Evil."

Maka bursts out laughing. "Why is it that every time you try to accuse me of something, you always manage to weave in a compliment too?"

"I can't help it," he grumbles unhappily. "Trust me, if I could stop it, I would. It's so uncool."

"Well, I think it's very cool." Her cheeks are slightly pink as they float along the edges of the crowd, hands still interlaced, footsteps in sync. "You're sweet, Soul. I know we tease you a lot—I know I tease you a lot—but it's only because I love the way you are and never want you to change. So please don't."

He blushes. Coughs. "Don't tell me what to do, Albarn. You're not my master."

She hums thoughtfully. "You would make a very cute cat-boy…"

"Don't even think about it."

"I'm sure Blair has some male cosplay materials in your size—"

"MAKA ALBARN, DON'T YOU DARE."

She teases him a little more, which results in him attacking her with tickling hands and demands until she laughs so hard she cries. She tries to wrestle away from him while squealing, but apparently she doesn't try very hard because he manages to keep his hands on her despite the fact that she could easily throw him on his ass on a normal day.

Eventually they settle down on a bench next to a grilled corn stand, where Maka tries to buy him a cob in apology but he practically throws her wallet in the ocean, because fucking hell if he ever lets her pay for anything while they're on a quasi-date like this.

And when they maybe, possibly, actually date in the future? Good luck to her then, because he plans to spoil her rotten.

They both nibble on their corn in comfortable silence, watching as a small band of five guys on percussion instruments wow the crowd with their music. Soul sneaks several glances over at Maka, who looks like an angel under the low street lights of the growing dark, before he works up the courage to speak.

"I have a question." When she glances over at him curiously, lowering her cob as she licks her lips clean, Soul says, "Blair—is she more of a mother figure or sister figure? I couldn't tell."

Letting out a small laugh, Maka abandons her corn completely and shifts in her seat. "Would it be weird to say a little bit of both? She's not old enough to be my mom but that doesn't stop her from trying. I've never… I mean, I've never really had either. Blair knew that since she was always around when I was a kid, so she took it upon herself to fill in the gaps as much as she possibly could with love and affection. I'll admit there were times when I didn't appreciate it as much as I could have because she can be a lot to handle, but I know she loves me. I love her, too. Blair is family—even if my mom doesn't like that she is."

"You never really talk about your mom." Soul has met her father twice in the past few weeks, both of which the red-haired man had wailed and yelled like Soul was some sort of ragged delinquent who was out to contaminate his daughter—but he's never met her mother.

Maka is quiet as she watches the passing crowd between their bench and the circle around the performers. Her green eyes are unreadable yet soft. "My mom is… complicated. As a kid, I idolized her. I still do. She's this amazing business woman who built her own international corporation from scratch and travels the world on a daily basis to meet with people who'd give their left foot to speak with her. How can I not think she's amazing? But to her, work always trumped family, and that meant she was never around when I was growing up. Was never there for birthdays or track meets, was never there for school debates or other holidays."

"Christmas?" At Maka's sad smile, Soul gasps. "No!"

She merely shrugs. "Her job meant everything to her. She didn't inherit her fortune like my father did. She built her own empire to cater to the masses, and while that makes her amazing, it also makes her insanely driven and determined to accelerate what she's got. It makes sense that she'd do anything to maintain her success."

"When was the last time you saw her?"

Her head tilts to the cloudy stars. "Three years ago—the summer before I started college. Ever since she divorced my dad, she hasn't had any reason to drop in regularly anymore."

"She has you," he all but snarls. "You're her daughter. How could she—how could she not—?"

"She lives a busy lifestyle. I can't fault her for that." There's a small pause. "She's mad that I want to be a doctor, you know. She hates that I'm not pursuing a business career like she did. She believes e-commerce is the future and thinks I'm stupid for not monopolizing on that when I know better."

"Maka." Soul can barely speak, he's so horrified. "Your mom can't be disappointed in your for wanting to save lives. That's—that's so backwards, I can't even think about it!"

"Well, technically I don't want to be a hands-on doctor like a surgeon or physician," she admits. "I want to work in child psych. That's not really as impressive."

"Maka!" He can't believe what he's hearing. "You graduated high school at fourteen. Are going to graduate college at eighteen. Will have your medical degree at twenty-two, when most people your age will barely have their lives together. Just because psych isn't considered as hardcore as surgery thanks to Grey's fucking Anatomy, that doesn't mean it isn't just as extraordinary. You're incredible, and what you want to do in the medical field is incredible. Don't you ever let anyone—even your own mother—make you feel like that's not good enough."

There's a pause. "You watch Grey's Anatomy?"

"MAKA!"

She giggles. "Sorry, sorry! I'm not making fun, I swear. It's a great show—until they killed off Lexie Grey, at least." She presses her lips together in her signature non-smile, and Soul nearly heaves with relief because seeing his sunshine girl resemble a moonless night rather than a cloudless day was enough to nearly give him a conniption. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get all serious. Today was supposed to be a fun day."

"Today was a fun day," he insists. "It is. But just because it's a fun day doesn't mean that we can't talk like this, too." Abandoning his cob on the bench next to him, he grips her tiny hand in his and ignores the sticky feeling as he says seriously, "You can always talk to me, Maka. Always. You put up with my issues enough on a daily basis; it's the least I could do."

"You're never a burden, Soul."

"Same goes for you."

Nibbling on her bottom lip, Maka peers up at him from beneath long, dark blond lashes, and even though she isn't wearing any makeup—even though she has sand clinging to her ankles and her hair is tangled with dried saltwater and he watched her beat a guy three times her size in a wrestling match hours before—she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

Shyly, she tightens her grip on his sticky hand and leans into him, resting her forehead against his neck as he curls his body around her. His heart is beating a million miles a minute; his face is hotter than the hidden sun. For a moment, they stay like that, fingers intertwined and hearts racing as the world continues around them, and when she finally speaks, he almost doesn't hear her over the busy crowd:

"You're way too good for me."

He balks like a fish on water for a split second before he's gripping her shoulders to push her back so he can look her in the eyes as he blubbers, "You're kidding, right?"

"I—"

"Maka!" interrupts a thunderous voice. "Soul! There you are! Never fear, YOUR GOD HAS ARRIVED!"

Soul has to close his eyes and count to three to keep from punching his best friend in the face.

Blake throws his arms around Soul's shoulders and rubs his head spastically with his knuckles, earning several growls and shouts as Soul struggles to get out of the blue-haired idiot's grasp. Blake continues to laugh like a maniac and spout nonsense about how he's been looking for them and that they were fools to think they could escape their god and how Soul owes him two hundred pushups for some ridiculous bet he's never agreed to, all the while never releasing Soul of his chokehold.

Why does this remind him of another crazy person who has no sense of personal space boundaries…

When Soul finally manages to wrestle away from Blake—thanks to the help of the tiny yet powerful Maka—Tsubaki shoots them both an apologetic look. "Sorry. We tried to reign him in, but he was determined to find you."

"I'm just mad Blake burst in when he did," Liz sighs. "Five more seconds and I probably would've won the bet. Did you see how close Maka and Soul were before Blake jumped in?"

Soul wisely decides not to ask. "Have you guys been looking for us this whole time?"

"Nah, only when Blake realized Maka wasn't there to compete against him on one of those test of strength carnival machines," Kilik says with a grin. After Blair's flippant comment about the dark-haired boy's feelings for Maka, Soul can't help but inwardly flinch, but Kilik looks calm and relaxed as ever. Not at all like a guy reuniting with the girl he loves and the guy she ran off to spend time alone with.

"A GOD NEEDS COMPETITION TO MAKE HIM LOOK GOOD," booms Blake. "Even tiny humans like Maks."

"Don't call me Maks!"

"Pigtails then!"

"I haven't worn pigtails since I was five!"

"What about polka—"

"Don't you dare!"

As Maka and Blake continue to bicker so impressively that they draw a crowd almost as curious as one of the actual street acts, Kid appears next to Soul like a fucking shadow, nearly making him jump five feet in the air. "Shit, Kid! Warn a guy next time, won't ya?"

"Sorry," Kid deadpans in the manner of someone who isn't sorry at all. "Is she okay?"

"What?"

"Maka," the dark-haired introvert says as if it's obvious. "The others might not have noticed, but she looked upset before we interrupted. Did something happen?"

Soul gives him a funny look. "What's it to you?"

Kid stares at him like he's the biggest idiot on the planet. "You may be part of Spartoi now, but I don't know you well enough to consider you to be more than my neighbor just yet. Maka, however, is my friend. A good one. So if you hurt her or offended her in any way, I am obligated to—"

"Beat me up, yeah, yeah, I know, I get it," Soul mutters. "Don't worry; Kilik already gave me the whole hurt-her-we-hurt-you spiel. You don't have to repeat it."

"I was going to say that I have connections. Powerful connections. I could make you disappear from your bed at night and no one would ever know what happened."

The dead serious expression in his golden eyes actually makes Soul shiver, like a caress of death or some shit. "Uhhhhhhh okay. That's, uh, cool then."

"I'm just saying."

"I heard you."

"Good. Now tell me what you did."

Soul exhales deeply, his eyes straying back to where Blake is trying to lock Maka in a chokehold like he did to Soul earlier and the rest of Spartoi cheers from the sidelines while placing very obvious verbal bets. "We talked about her mom."

"Ah," Kid says grimly. "The wonderful Kami Albarn."

"Was that—sarcasm?"

"Do you have a problem?"

"No, I just—" Didn't think you had a sense of humor. "Never mind." Soul coughs. "You know about her mom?"

"I may not have grown up with her like Kilik and Blake, but our fathers are close so we crossed paths a lot before we became friends. Her mother, unfortunately, has never been in the picture, even though she'll use the excuse of the divorce to justify her neglectful behavior. Cowardly, if you ask me."

"I just can't believe she hasn't visited her daughter in three fucking years." Just thinking about it makes Soul's blood boil. And remembering the despondent look on Maka's face as she explained her empty bleachers and bleak holidays? Yeah, that definitely isn't good for his blood pressure.

Kid nods darkly. "Plus, after what happened to Maka in high school, abandoning her was the worst possible thing she could've done. I don't know how the woman lives with herself."

"Wait—what happened to Maka in high school?"

Gold eyes snap to the side and widen. "Didn't you say you discussed it already?"

"We discussed her mother leaving and disapproving of her major. We didn't say anything about high school." The look on the dark-haired boy's face raises Soul's alarm. "What? What the hell happened? What aren't you telling me?" Briefly, his memory flashes back to that morning when Wes explained with a controlled expression how Maka had a rough time of it when they went to Shibusen and that Soul should treat her like a princess if he was serious about her. "Was she bullied or something?"

A dark laugh escapes Kid's lips. "Or something." The words are like a sneer on his lips. "It's not my place to tell you what she went through if she hasn't already. All I can say is that it would've been a lot easier if she had been bullied."

Then, before Soul can demand any more information, the football players finally break up Blake and Maka's fight with Harvar physically lifting her up by the waist and moving her aside like she's no more than a feisty kitten.

Maka sticks her tongue out at the blue-haired idiot before shaking free of Harvar's hold. She stalks over to Soul with a pout, complaining about how she doesn't want to ride in the same car with Blake on the way back so they're riding in Kilik's soccer mom van instead.

That leads to a whole new discussion in which Kilik insists that the van is actually his mother's and it's for his younger siblings, though Ox and Harvar are quick to put in that Kilik's mom actually is a soccer mom and a damn hot one at that.

And that leads to a whole other conversation about moms that Soul wisely decides to stay out of.

When they finally leave the boardwalk and pile into the cars on the way back to Blake's house, the moon has risen high in the sky and everyone is so exhausted that they pass out within minutes.

Days at the beach are impossibly draining, almost like a payment to the gods for the good weather and luck, and the drive home is a quiet reflection of that. Maka squeezes between Soul and Patty in the backseat of Kilik's mom's soccer van, her head resting on his shoulder as she snoozes adorably.

By the time they all reconvene at Blake's, all of Spartoi is unbelievably docile with mumbled goodbyes and half-hearted yawns as they part ways. Soul had been just as exhausted when they left his best friend's house, but now—sitting in the passenger seat of Maka's car as she idles in his driveway—he couldn't be more wide-awake.

"Maka—"

She tilts her head at him curiously when he breaks off but doesn't continue. "What is it?"

He has so many questions. So many. What happened to you in high school? Why does my brother stare at you the way he does? What's wrong with your mother? Why are the others so overprotective of you? Why won't anyone tell me anything?

Do you know that Kilik loves you?

Do you know what you feel for me?

But no matter how much he wants to word-vomit all of his insecurities into existence, he can't force the words, not when she's looking at him like that with those big green eyes and that sweet angelic face. Not when she looked so fucking sad at the barest mention of her mother and seems to dim every time someone so much as mentions her high school years.

He wants to know her, more than he's wanted anything. But more than that, he wants her to come to him. Feel comfortable with him. If the only reason he learns things about her is because he asks others or forces the answers from her before she's ready, what is that worth? What does it mean?

It's not enough. Not to him.

Soul wants everything.

"Thank you," he says finally, and his voice is barely a whisper, like the gods are sleeping crickets around them and making a single sound will break some sort of delicate spell that protects them all.

Maka's smile is pure sunshine in the night as she murmurs back, "You're welcome."

a/n: you guys have been so wonderful to my newbie behind it makes me want to cry. i don't know what i did to deserve readers like you, but thank you. so many hearts.

xo
chloe