To make a long story short, I'm not sated with the amount of smut stories with Crona and Maka. It makes me oh so sad;-; And as a result of that, this idea popped into my head.

And on we go~

They sat on the couch before the television, the evening moon and flashing television acting like nightlights to the living room swallowed in darkness. The apartment was warm and quiet, and the genuine smile Crona had worn throughout the night started to ache.

He was sure some kind of interruption would happen during dinner, whether it was in making a nervous fool out of himself in a crowded, fancy restaurant or Ragnarok jumping out to scarf his plate down and demand for the fanciest wine for the king sitting on his pink throne. Much to Crona's chagrin, his partner didn't co-operate in staying put if Maka and he weren't celebrating a special occasion; the simple opportunity to be romantic and together left Ragnarok scoffing or gagging dryly.

That was what made tonight a special case.

For the first time in…awhile, Ragnarok kept inside his flesh prison, even withheld the insults the couple expected to be thrown during the evening walk through the park. Crona was able to experience the beautiful feel to the parks at night without hearing a slight at how boring or girly it was. Artificial light from lampposts reflected and shimmered over the pond's surface with fireflies buzzing in spirals over it, the night sky resting above dusty with stars. It made him more grateful to have Maka by the hip and witness the sights with her during the stroll.

Then, after they walked back into the city streets, Crona became puzzled.

Ragnarok failed to burst forth when they went into an ice cream parlor, didn't screech demands for a shoot 'em up film or horror flick when they searched for a movie to watch, either. He may be able to restrain himself-at least, in the rare moments when he felt necessary- but Crona knew his partner had his limits to how long or where he could contain his interrupting impulses.

The sword didn't answer when Crona called through their inner bond, didn't feign barfing when Maka pulled a blanket over them on the couch and rested herself on his shoulder. A mixed torrent of content and uncertainty swirled in the pit of his belly.

Maybe Ragnarok was asleep. Or he was ignoring him, and all Crona could really do was wait, lasso his thin arms around Maka's waist like she did to him, and hope his stubborn friend would answer his summons later.

As the movie played, warmth radiated from inside the thick blanket, and the swordsman relaxed into ease. Being in a cover so warm must be what being a cocoon is like, enveloped in pleasant heat and protection, only he had a partner to share it with.

He rested his cheek on the bed of silky sand-blonde tucked under his neck. He could spend an eternity like this. He didn't care if the daydream he fell into made key points of the movie fly by him, his eyelids falling sleepily. He was more than happy to stay like this for the rest of the night, or more, if time would allow it.

A soft, sudden stroke on his side broke Crona from his reverie, making him jerk upright from his slouch. With startled eyes he peered under the blanket and found that Maka had moved her hand underneath the right side of his pajama top.

Maka looked up at him, emerald eyes shining with worry in the dark. "Crona? What's wrong?"

He blushed, embarrassed that a slow brush of fingers moving on him nearly made his skeleton leap out of his skin. "N-Nothing." he replied. "I um…I'm just a little cold. Maybe walking around at night wasn't the smartest idea I had."

Her brows furrowed. "You're cold while under a thick blanket with another person pressed against you?"

"…yes."He lamely answered. "I don't know how to describe it, exactly. I just…am."

Worry evaporated from her expression, replaced with suspicious wonder. Crona swallowed hard when a raise of a fine, blonde brow and corner lifting lips showed themselves.

The hand on his side moved to make a slow swipe against his skin, fingertips lightly prodding, and Crona let the invisible zipper tightening his lips hold back his giggles. His resistance made her stop momentarily, until a rushing hand attacked the underside of his left armpit to squeeze repeatedly and wriggle her fingers around. Crona jumped, flailing under the blanket, sputtering out his held-in laughs.

"I knew you were ticklish." Maka giggled with a smile. "But I always forget just how easy it is to find a ticklish spot on you." Crona groaned sheepishly, dipping his head under the blanket to hide his flush. She dove under after him, placing a quick kiss to the middle of his hot forehead. "But don't worry. It just makes you that much more adorable."

A small pout framed his lips. "I don't like how easy it is. I know everyone is a little ticklish, b-but I don't know why I'm…more so."

"Not everyone is ticklish~." Maka sang. "If I've been able to deny Spirit any pleasure when I was young, it's been in his attempts at tickling me. Didn't laugh once."

Crona stared at her. He was shocked, to say the least. He wasn't used to hearing Maka tell him such an obvious lie to his face, or lie to him at all. "But…yes you are."

"Am I?"

"Maybe not everywhere like I am. But you…" He hesitated, mumbling quietly, "I know that you're ticklish."

"Really?" Maka tilted her head. "And how do you know where?"

The water had to be tread carefully here. Something was amiss, the mischief in her eyes told him that. And if he knew any facts at all, it was that even the kind, caring people like Maka Albarn had their devious streaks.

He learned that the hard way.

"N-Nevermind." Crona lifted the blanket off his head and tried to bring his attention back to the movie. "It's not important. I'm probably thinking about someone else. I remember Liz is pretty ticklish and Patty torments her with it almost every day in class, so…maybe that's where I got the idea."

"But you seemed so sure." Maka insisted. "You sure I'm not ticklish here?" A finger wormed into his armpit again, shocking his muscles into jerking his body. "Orrrrrr, here?" Another warm hand squeezed his side, grabbing at whatever could be called fat or muscle, and he thrashed around under the blanket, his giggles strained.

She repeated this endlessly. It made him laugh, but it was a breathless, burning laughter, like he was fighting for air. How could anyone find this fun?

The blanket fell off their laps as Crona fought to get away from Maka's digging and squeezing hands. Desperation for air and peace set in, and if she really wanted to see, then he'd show her so this madness could end already!

With his back arching from another side grab, Crona took hold of the top of Maka's knee, clutching at it repeatedly like it was a stress-ball. She shrieked in surprise. Her body twitched, and released her hands from him to force his grip off, cursing breathlessly that this was more of torturing than tickling.

Crona finally let go and the couple collapsed to opposite sides of the couch. They breathed in deep breaths, swallowing in as much air as they could.

"So it's a fight you're looking for, is it?" The mischievous smirk Crona knew all too well broadened on Maka's face. His now blue orbs filled with panic while Maka's twinkled dangerously. "Alright then. Let's go!"

Crona yelped. He clambered away from her, trying to sit up from the couch to flee, but restrictive hands took hold of the back of his shirt. She pinned him face-down on the sofa, sitting on his lower back, her small knees sitting on the palms of his hands to keep all of him at bay.

From a side-glance, the frightened swordsman saw the devilish intent in her eyes. She took her time in cracking her knuckles, wriggling her fingers in preparation for what came next.

He should have known better. He was stupid for not keeping his mouth shut or just taking the torture. This had been a trick the entire time!

Fingers crawled and wiggled into Crona's side, inducing his sharp inhales for breath and choked giggles. Her fingertips chillingly raked down his back, hands grabbing every part she could get ahold of.

"Ma-Ma-Ma-KA!"Crona pleaded in-between giggles. "T-T-tha-gah! That tick-les! Haha! S-Stop! Please!"

Maka's grin widened. She responded with more grabs to his side, denying Crona any chance of mercy. His back arched, lungs burning, feet flailing against the couch cushions.

He needed to set himself free, or he'd be faced with acting like a thrashing, gasping fish for however long Maka pleased. There had to be a way to fight back.

Crona wriggled one of the hands restrained by Maka's knee, edging it closer to freedom with every arch and jerk his body made. Once it slipped free, he turned onto his side, launched his hand to the top of her knee, and squeezed at it again.

Maka cried out, her strong stance on him wilting. Small hands tried to push him off again, attempting to get a poke at his stomach to weaken him, but Crona's instincts crept into play. He twisted himself over to lie face-up, gathering together her wrists in his hands. The sides of his legs clamped at her sides, rocking his body forward until Maka fell onto her back. With a practically permanent grin, Maka kept resisting his hold-an unyielding fighter until the very end- and Crona quickly planted her fighting hands above her head, keeping her in place.

She looked almost as surprised as Crona was. Throughout the times Black Star gave him wrestling tips, sat on the swordsman's back when he failed, motivated him with yells and threatening farts to his face to keep trying, his advise actually worked when it wasn't being used against a man with the power of a hundred gorillas.

They lay there, gasping for air with smiles and breathless laughs. When Maka's eyes darted around, her crafty smile returned. "I know this can be counted as a fight and repercussions are needed for the loser, but I wasn't expecting you to try a new position. I admit, you've caught me off guard."

Crona blinked, cocking his head to the side in confusion. "What do you mean?"

A giggle of amusement rather than mischief left her. "Take a look for yourself, and you tell me."

Puzzled, Crona did as she said. He looked down and around, discovering the position they shared while he was on top: her wrists held over her head, their hips locked against the other, their faces mere inches apart.

Blood rushed into the swordsman's face. He squeaked, releasing Maka and jumping back to scramble backwards on the couch. He bonked the back of his head on the wooden part of an armrest, and wrenched his eyes shut with a pained hiss.

Maka pounced back on top of him within a second. She hovered her face teasingly close to his, and like an instinctive shield, Crona brought his forearms to his chest. The stare she gazed into him with almost made him wish he could sink his body and face into the cloudy cushions to shy away. Maka's thoughtful smile made her more attractive, and it scared Crona that he still didn't know how to deal with it.

Or resist against it.

"I never did say thank you for tonight." She said in a hushed whisper. Firm hands glided over the lean crevices tangible through his PJ top. "I did have fun, but as you said, the park was pretty cold, and these thin pajamas probably don't help in warming you up." Her warm breath gusted over his lips. "Have any ideas to how we can fix that?"

Crona shuddered. The want in her gaze made aggressive shivers rattle his body, and he swore he looked like a brainless idiot with his tremoring gape and the hammering of his heart pounding against Maka's hand. All he could muster out was a tiny squeak.

The seduction in Maka's smile faded. She leaned back, her features turning soft. "Or maybe I'm going overboard again. I've made you do one thing you don't like to do already. It would be unfair to make you do something else you're uncomfortable with." Closing her eyes sheepishly, Maka gave him a small grin. "Sorry about that."

That made Crona frown.

Uncomfortable was the last word he would have considered for his view on being intimate with her. It was more like…an adjustment, if that made sense.

The infernos of fear toward sex had been reduced to a low flame, manageable enough for them to try more than a couple of times since their first. Yet his shyness remained toward it, and Maka always reiterated that it would fade over time with help from their time together. She wouldn't even push the matter if he wished against it.

But he could see she wanted it; wanted him. The knowledge made his nerves and face burn hot.

When Maka moved to lift off of him, Crona's growing resolve spurred him to take hold of her hips. Her eyes darted to him, wide with surprise. With her shock fading, Maka started to giggle, and Crona wasn't surprised if she was laughing at his enthusiasm toward her invitation, his tight hands on her hips, or how red his face had become.

Placing a hand on his cheek, Maka leaned in, pressing her lips to his. A lone hand rested against his chest, the knees planted at his sides serving as Maka's supports. Her pelvis shifted against Crona's, his breathing growing heavy as the slow movements of their jaws rocked his head back into the seat cushion.

The tip of her tongue swept across Crona's bottom lip, seeking entry. His mouth opened, allowing the slick appendages to mingle, flicking and coiling around the other in a slow fight. Her hands slid up to thread into strands of bubble-gum pink hair, cupping the back of his head. As she lowered and pressed her chest onto his, Crona whimpered into their joined mouths, marveling at the curvaceous feel of her body, the soft push of her breasts.

His hands shook on her waist. He lost the battle and Maka's invasion turned into a plundering of his mouth, lips sealed tight to his, the hand on his shirt balling fabric to bring him closer. The scalding fire that burned in his stomach branched out, setting his chest ablaze, tingling between his legs. The need to feel her was overwhelming, and not for the first time, Crona wished the heat would burn off the clothing they wore. They were nothing but walls, blocking the hot contact his body cried out for.

Detaching her lips from his, Maka pulled back, a line of saliva joining their bottom lips. She rose up until she was perched atop him, staring down silently.

Crona saw the question in her half-lidded eyes, asking where he wanted to go from here. Trapped in the whirlwind of unbearable heat and intoxication of Maka, instinct drowned Crona's senses.

His hands crept under the rim of her shirt, moving up the toned landscape of Maka's back. His fingertips skidded on a couple fleshy road-bumps along the way- scars of past fights leaving their mark. He made sure to pass them gently, giving an affectionate swipe on them to expel away any self-consciousness she may have; wounds left behind was a problem he was more than familiar with. Capturing his lips with hers again, Maka worked to reclaim her territory, searching deeper inside it.

When he reached her shoulder blades, Crona was surprised and relieved to find her bra absent. He guided his hands down the trenches of her ribs, letting a couple of fingers glide underneath her breast. His thumb rose up to circle over a nipple.

A shuddering moan from Maka slipped down his throat. Lust-driven, the scythe wielder's kiss turned feral, biting down on his bottom lip, hands shoving him deeper into the cushions. The stir between his legs turned into a hardening ache, quickly shifting into throbs as Maka rubbed against him. He cupped a peach-sized globe, giving it a strong, slow knead.

Maka's lips fell away, gasping with her eyes sewn shut, sweat gathering at the sides of her face. She whimpered as he rubbed a thumb around her nipple, squeezing her with those soft, calloused hands.

She gave his hardness beneath her a slow, torturous grind, responding to his teasing. Crona's grip twitched into a firmer hold, sparking alive the electric jolt running up her spine. Lifting herself up again, the eager meister reached for her shirt.

Maka opened only the top two buttons of her PJ top. Crona would have been more confused on what she wanted from him if she hadn't moved her hands to slide down his chest, grabbing at the rim of his pajama bottoms. He was quaking, his heavy eyes drunk in the stupor of lust, and his hands quickly grew a mind of their own. They were quick to shoot for her chest, unbuttoning the outer locks to Maka's shirt. She pushed up on her knees to hover over him, got a better hold on his pants, and Crona thought there was no way the room could not possibly get any warmer than it felt now.

Then the knob to the front door wriggled.

A shock of ice froze Crona's insides and Maka's eyes snapped to the door. She propelled herself backwards to topple off him, scrambling with her back to the door to refasten her shirt buttons.

They frantically sat up in their seats, adjusting their appearances as the door swung open. A high-pitched squeal filled the air.

"You guys will not believe the haul of tips I got today!" A gleeful voice announced. Large pumpkins carrying shopping bags floated into the room, Blair strolling in not far behind. Crona was surprised to find that her arms were also stuffed with groceries. Why a grocery store would be open so late, he wasn't sure, but Blair always did have a knack for making vendors tend to her needs at any hour.

The magical cat placed the bags on the table, letting her excited face show. "I knew rich men can be lonely, this poor guy today was the embodiment of it, but he gave a much more generous tip than any other wealthy man I've serviced! He was a sweetie, too. I guess he just needed someone to talk to. I hope he comes find me the next time he's around, though. And if that time he wants to reserve a chance to be alone with me, I know just the right tricks to perk him up!"

Crona's cheeks turned pink while Maka let out an irritated sigh. They knew that Blair was Blair, and no amount of spraying water at her or scoldings would stop her talking about her sexually adventurous job or nature.

Maka then frowned, spotting the human-form cat walk into the kitchen and twist a knob of the stove to ignite the fire.

"Blair, what are you doing?" she asked.

"When I stopped by the fish shop to get more tuna, the owner gave me some crab and lobster! I've been waiting for days for a fresh batch to come in. I hope you like seafood omelets!"

"B-But it's almost midnight." Crona chimed in.

"That means it's closer to morning. So when it comes, breakfast will be ready! Now run off to bed you two. Blair will have it ready in a bit."

"Hold on a second."Maka slid off the couch, walking over to the kitchen. "There's no way I'm going to sleep while you're manning the stove. For all I know, I'm going to wake up to a bed of ashes that was once our apartment and find you still trying to cook burnt fish."

"But Blair has been practicing! I know when to stop cooking the fish now! It's after it starts to look all crispy and flaky, not when it becomes black, right?"

The tired meister sighed. "Blair, it's late. This can wait until tomorrow. And if you want Crona's and my help, we will give it to you."

With a twitch of her ears, Blair cocked her head. "But wouldn't you guys like it if you had breakfast in bed after you're done in your room? It's the least thing Blair can do after interrupting you two. I know how it feels to get interrupted. It's so annoying!"

The color drained from Crona's face. Wincing, he inched back in his seat as Blair gave him a devious wink, tapping at her nose; he had forgotten animals could sense when mates were in heat, a scent their cat friend was all too familiar with.

Maka made sure she stayed strong and still in her sentry-like stance, but she could feel a light blush betraying her. "It's none of your business."

"So you don't deny in being busy before I walked in?"

"I said it's none of your business. Now turn off the stove and go to sleep. You can cook in the morning. "

Blair pouted childishly. "But I'm hungry nowwwww. I didn't even get a lunch break because I was so busy! Pleaseee?"

Before Maka could answer, one of the bags of groceries floated up into the air. Maka grabbed it before it could speed off, but her grip on the bag didn't stop the seafood and other products from bursting out from the top. "Blair, I told you! Tomorrow!"

"But it'll be less fresh tomorrow!"

"That doesn't mean it won't still be fresh! You only have to wait eight hours!"

"Eight hours is too long for Blair!"

The door to Soul's room opened, allowing the irritated scythe to poke his messy, white head out. "Alright, it's nearly midnight and I've been hearing nothing but noises. What in the literal hell is-!"

A slap to the cheek from a large tuna zipping by cut Soul off. He twirled around and fell down to the floor, his eyes spinning.

The strong stench of fish stung the air, Soul was drooling on the floor, unconscious, and Blair hissed and whined in cat form as Maka forced her out of the kitchen with a mini-hose from the sink, spraying her with water.

And within all the havoc, the smile on Crona's face could not be put down.

Maka always told him he had become a part of the chaotically lovable family living in the apartment. He still didn't understand it, probably never would, but his nerves and uncertainty to this new setting was dulling over the time spent here. All of them welcomed him with open arms, and he was more than thankful to them.

That made Crona feel all the more guilty for wishing Blair and Soul weren't around.

They owned this apartment, not him. It was not within his place to crave for Maka and he to be alone like they had once been, wish Soul and Blair away so they could be left in silence. He even began to wonder what Maka could mean by a "new position". There were more than what was, well…usual?

Crona bit his bottom lip. The stress of school and lack of quality time with Maka was probably making him overly needy, and when he or Soul and Maka were on missions separately, it added more to his pathetic anxiety.

Maka glanced at him from the kitchen, Blair scampering about around her legs, pawing at her as she begged to cook her food. She forced herself to produce a smile, hoping it was enough for him to tell that they would have to pick up where they left off another time. The mood was dead now.

And through the brief exchange, Crona was sure Maka also wondered when would be the next time they'd be able to have more time together too.

To answer a question some of you may have, yes, I've thought of incorporating Ragnarok in one of their pillow play times. How, you also ask? Well, we'll see~