A/N: This is my 2nd entry for Resbang 2016. I had the pleasure of working with fuzzyfurr455 whose art you can find on her tumblr or mine (both under the same name). I hope y'all enjoy this story.

Warnings: explicit sexual content, mutual pining, denial of feelings, porn with a plot

Chapter 1: Do I Wanna Know?

Maka makes a mental note to never trust Liz again.

Especially when it comes to blind dates.

Stabbing at her salad, she nods as her date goes on and on about his travels to third world countries, an attribute that's wholly attractive. She always did find humbleness and charity an appeasing quality in a man, but this man lacks the former of the two. All he's talked about for the last thirty minutes is himself and all the noble deeds he's done for the less fortunate; he hasn't asked a single question about her. It's been all about him, him, him.

She prides herself in the ability to know when someone isn't genuine, and her date falls under the category. Every red flag in her mind has been flashing since he started talking. Since she first sat down and heard him speak. The egotism had been oozing off him when they first met, and she has no idea how Liz thinks this guy is right for her. His only reason for doing so much is so he has the chance to gloat to unsuspecting girls on the off chance he'll get lucky.

Unlucky for him, though, Maka isn't dense.

"And then I went to-"

The Cantina Band song from Star Wars cuts him off and Maka jumps to dig for her phone, giving him an apologetic smile in the process while internally thanking every god in existence for the distraction.

"Sorry. I guess I forgot to put it on silent." She pauses to look at the name on the screen even though she knows perfectly well who it is. "I'm sorry, but I really need to answer this."

"Yeah, sure," her date duly says, the charm and charisma disappearing in an instant as he leans back in his chair and pouts like a child. "I'll stay here."

"It won't take more than a minute," she promises.

Standing from her chair, she heads to the bathrooms.

"Thank you so much for calling," she says once she's out of earshot of her date. "Now I can finally leave this horrid date."

"You owe me for this," Soul growls on the other end.

"I know, I know. I'll buy you ice cream for a month."

"Make it pizza, and we have a deal."

"You know too much of that stuff isn't good for you, right?"

"Bailing on guys before the date ends doesn't make you a good person either."

"I know," she sighs, defeated by his words. "I promise this'll be the last time, though."

Soul snorts. "Sure. You want me to order pizza and you pick it up, or are you gonna do it all?"

"I'll pick it up on my way to the apartment."

"I'm putting extra pineapple on my side." He chuckles when Maka fake barfs. "See you in twenty."

"Bye."

Maka waits a minute or two after hanging up before walking back to the table with a somber smile.

"I'm so sorry to do this, but I have to go. One of my friends got sent to jail, and he doesn't have anyone besides me to bail him out," she says, gathering her purse. "I'll call you, though, and maybe we can go out again?"

Her date's mouth purses, and as if the night isn't terrible already, he gives her a once-over. His gaze lingers a little too long on her legs making her regret wearing a dress. She shifts her weight on her foot, unease creeping through her veins at the sly grin he gives her and the slight cock of his brow, and she's disgusted with herself for staying so long. Honestly, she should have learned her lesson to not trust Liz's choice in men after the first two blind dates her friend set her up on.

All guys are the same; disgusting pigs who are looking to get laid.

Well, jokes on them because she isn't that desperate. She has standards.

"Sure," her date says, meeting her eyes again. "I had fun getting to know you, and I'd love to see you again."

"Likewise," she says with what she hopes is a sickening sweet smile to hide her lie.

"Bye, Maka."

"Bye."

She turns around and heads toward the exit with every intention of blocking any calls or texts from the guy as well as deleting his number. Along with this, she makes a mental note to turn down the next blind date Liz sets her up on.

"Why do you even agree to go on these dates?" Soul asks around a mouth full of pizza.

Maka wrinkles her nose as she swallows a bite from her own slice. "Don't talk with your mouth full like that, Soul. It's rude and gross."

He rolls his eyes. "Says you."

"Says every book out there about manners," she retorts. "It's common decency, and girls like it when a guy has some manners. That's probably why you're still single."

"You sound like my brother," Soul mumbles under his breath, but he finishes chewing before speaking again. "Considering you're back here eating pizza with me instead of cozying up next to your date for tonight, I'd say your love life isn't any more grand than mine. Especially when they all end the same way. So why're you even going out with these guys?"

"I don't know," she shrugs.

She picks at her pizza crust, stalling before speaking again because, in truth, she does know. The reason she's been on so many blind dates is because even though she's been cold and cynical toward relationships in the past, a part of her is curious to know what it's like to be in one. To have someone who makes her heart swell and warm with a single laugh, someone she thinks about constantly, someone she's comfortable around. Even though she knows the risk of giving her all to the opposite sex, she still would like to know what it feels like to take that leap.

More importantly, she's searching for someone who can replace the crush she has on her best friend and roommate. That's part of the reason why she's been on so many blind dates, why she agreed to go on this wild goose chase when Liz proposed it six months ago, but somehow she always finds herself back with Soul watching Netflix and eating junk food.

"I don't know," she repeats. "I guess a part of me wants to know what it's like to be with someone romantically. I've never been on a real date before."

Her cheeks burn at the admittance, and she lets out an airy laugh to release the tension knotted in her stomach. She doesn't bother to spare a glance at Soul.

"I know how lame that makes me since you're Mister Cool Guy who's been on dozens of dates," she mumbles when he doesn't respond.

Soul snorts, and it only serves to drive the knife deeper.

"It's not lame. What's lame is that you think you would've had time to date before since you spent more time cooped up in the library while we were in college. You were in a long term relationship with books. You didn't have time for guys."

Pouting, she glares at him. "That doesn't mean anything. You always brought me coffee when you were done with classes and spent time with me in the library and you still managed to find time to date."

"That's 'cause I was always dead tired after classes and didn't wanna walk back to the dorms," he says, scratching the side of his face. "'Sides, I was cool enough to date. No one wants to be with a bookworm."

"You're not very helpful," she says, her glare hardening. She pulls her feet onto the couch, slouches, and crosses her arms like a child who's been denied extra candy. "It's not like you're out dating now. You've been single since we graduated so I guess the whole cool guy stuff wore out."

"That's 'cause I don't wanna date."

Maka's brain latches onto his words and mulls them over for a brief second. He hasn't dated anyone in the last three years they've lived together; it's only been her. For someone who had dated a new girl every month and had a reputation in college (a huge feat for attending a large campus like theirs), Soul has been slacking in the romance department. She doesn't want to know why, but at the same time she does. They're selfish reasons, of course, and she'd only be asking to answer her own questions she's been trying to figure out for the last year.

Yet…

"Why is that?" she asks.

"Huh?"

"Why are you not going out on dates? You used to be a serial dater in college. What happened?"

His mouth opens and closes, sharp teeth digging into his bottom lip. He shifts his gaze away from her as he scratches his cheek - a behavior she's come to associate with him being nervous or unsure. Why he has any reason to be nervous now is beyond her, though. It's not like she asked him a complicated question that'll determine the outcome of his life.

"I dunno," he finally says, shrugging and grabbing another slice of pizza. "Guess I'm not interested in dating right now."

His words sting more than they should while the bitter lump lodged in her throat keeps her from speaking. She finds nodding the easiest way to respond and picks at the crust of her half eaten slice of pizza, sprinkling the bread crumbs along the edge of her paper plate. It doesn't surprise her that Soul isn't interested in dating. He spent a good amount of their college years going out with girls including some time afterward so of course he'd want to take a break.

Still, it doesn't take away how pathetic she feels for at least hoping she had a chance.

How laughable.

"Well, when you are ready to get back out there, I hope your luck is better than mine," she says with a smile, ignoring the pain hidden behind it.

Soul stares at her for a few seconds, brows furrowed, before relaxing and returning the smile.

"You'll find someone too. And it'll be a guy who likes your bookworm tendencies and - Augh! I'm joking, Maka," he says when she glares at him, rubbing the spot where she had punched him.

"You really know how to woo a woman," she bites. "It's no wonder why you're still single."

"Oh, come on. Don't be like that-"

"I'm going to bed," she says, placing her plate on the ottoman before standing. "As punishment, you can take care of the food."

"Maka-"

"Good night, Soul."

It's a few seconds before he responds. She's only an inch from her bedroom door when she hears the muttered reply.

When he hears her door shut, Soul relaxes and sighs.

He hates his undying ability to shatter potential moments that arise between them. Always choosing to go back to middle school insults and teasing rather than facing his feelings head on. A defense mechanism as old as time itself and more outdated than a tamagotchi holding onto its last bit of battery life. His one true art form since he realized his emotions for Maka ran deeper than friendship.

His chance to confess his love for Maka had been right in front of him, and he blew it. He had his chance to explain why he stopped dating, clear himself as being a serial dater, and tell her how much she means to him. Tell her the only reason he dated in the first place was in the hopes to get over her because it's always been her he's wanted to be with. Since the first time he heard her laugh ring out like Vivaldi's Spring symphony, saw her smile light up the room, and felt her touch burn his skin. Since they stayed up all night talking in the commons of their dorm, shared an umbrella on the way back from class, and made midnight runs for Jack in the Box tacos.

God, he's loved her for so long.

But what did he do instead? Teased her for being a bookworm and implied she wasn't interesting enough.

How pathetic.

At this point, it would take a miracle for Maka to see him as anything more than a friend. He's the furthest away from being her type and the furthest from being the guy who can sweep her off her feet. His track record proves that. She already thinks of him as a sleaze like her father - a man whore - even if it is a lie.

Sighing, Soul buries his unrequited feelings beneath three more slices of pizza and an entire bottle of soda.

The next day, Maka sits across from Liz for lunch, dreading the moment her friend asks about the blind date. They've only been at the restaurant for about fifteen minutes, but she knows the topic will arise once they give their order. It's inevitable considering it is Liz who had set up the date in the first place.

And like clockwork, it happens.

"So, how was your date last night?" Liz casually asks, twirling her drink with her straw before taking a sip. Her mouth curves into a coy smile around it as she says, "Did you get laid?"

"Liz. Seriously?" Maka asks. "You know not everyone is like you and sleeps with someone on the first date, right?"

"I don't understand why not," she says nonchalantly. "How else are you to know if they're good in bed or not?"

"You get to know them after a few dates, and then when you think you're ready—"

"Boring!" Liz interjects. "That's how old farts in the 1800's did it, and in case you haven't noticed, there's a serious lack of horse drawn carriages parading around here. It's the twenty-first century. Girls are free to fuck guys on the first date."

"Maybe some people like being old-fashioned."

"You mean virgins?" A small smile tucks away behind Liz's mouth at her own joke before continuing. "So did you sleep with him or not? Or are you avoiding the question because you bailed? Again?"

Maka opens her mouth to tell Liz that she did indeed sleep with Hiro, but the moment the idea jumps to her mind, she chickens out. She shuts and purses her lips, rubbing her thumb along the edge of her glass, because her friend isn't that dumb. Liz probably already knows what Maka's answer is without her having to say it especially considering how predictable Maka is when it comes to these specific situations. A fact that annoys her to no end because it doesn't allow her to keep secrets from her friend, and knowing something Liz doesn't would be nice for a change.

And yet...

"You bailed out," Liz states after a minute of silence from Maka. "That makes this, what? The fifth date this month?"

"It's the third," Maka clarifies. "But I have a good reason for ditching this one."

Liz's brows lift as if asking her to continue.

"All we did was talk about him the entire time and how great and noble he is for doing so much charity work. I'm pretty sure more than half of what he said to me were lies, too. He never once asked about me, and when he did, he brought the subject back to himself." Maka pauses to take a breath. "And when I asked if he wanted to meet again, he checked me out before saying yes. All he's looking for is a good lay, and I refuse to be that kinda girl."

"Oh no," Liz mockingly says, "he did not check you out! What a sleaze ball. What's a poor, single girl like you to do about a guy who wants to sleep with you?"

"He looked at me like I was a slab of meat," she hisses. "You're lucky I decided to be nice or else I would've kicked his ass at the table."

"Not nice enough to fuck him, though."

"Liz!"

"I know, I know." Liz puts both her hands up in surrender. "You hate when I'm so crass in public, but, honestly, Maka, I've given you so many guys on a silver platter! And they've all been hot, and how do you repay me? You find something wrong about them so you can ditch them. This happens every time. Have you ever stopped to wonder why you're not finding any of them at least date-able?"

Shrugging, Maka says, "Maybe because I'm not ready to date."

"Bull-fucking-shit!" Liz says a little too loudly.

A few of the customers near them turn around to glare at her while Maka shushes her friend.

"No. I'm not gonna shut up because you and I both know why you're like this." Her tone isn't as loud as before, but it's low enough that others can't hear their conversation, which is nice. "It's because you're madly in love with Soul, and none of these guys are good enough for you because they. Aren't. Soul."

Maka suppresses the need to roll her eyes. She's heard this argument so many times before, and her response is the same every time.

"I'm not in love with Soul."

"Oh, yes you are. You've been crushing on that boy since you two graduated college, but you're too dense to admit it so you moved in with him. Which I should congratulate you for. Most girls find it difficult to live with their crushes. So tell me, how's the sexual tension going for you?"

"There's no sexual anything because I don't like Soul," Maka repeats a tad too aggressively. "And he doesn't like me either. In that way."

"You're only lying to yourself, Maka, because it's pretty damn clear to me and everyone else in a thirty mile radius of you two that you're in love with him."

She goes to refute Liz's comment, but stops herself and slouches in her chair.

Deep down, she knows Liz is right. The only person she's fooling by denying her feelings for Soul is herself even after being aware of her love for him for the last year, which has only made things worse around the apartment. If she sees him in one more state of vulnerability or a variation of undress, she may consider kissing him on the spot. It's complete and utter hell seeing him prance around in his boxers, hair perfectly tousled and eyes lazier than normal, after showering or brushing his teeth. Sometimes she wants to kiss the edge of his mouth and tell him how cute he looks, but she restrains herself.

They're friends.

Just friends.

"Even if I were to face the truth and admit I like him," Maka says, ignoring the gleeful look on Liz's face, "that doesn't mean it'll change anything. Soul doesn't have romantic feelings for me, and I don't want to ruin our friendship because I do."

Liz's excitement dissipates and her voice dulls as she says, "Obviously you're too dense to see what's right in front of you, so I'm not going to rebuttal your thought process. You already know what I have to say, anyways."

"Thank-"

"But," she cuts in, a smirk dancing around her mouth, "I will remind you that you need to get laid asap before you jump that poor boys bones."

A squeak sounds from Maka's throat and her face pales.

"Liz!"

"Sexual tension, Maka. It's a thing," he friend waves off. "Changing the subject before you die of a virgin's embarrassment with dick talk, how're things going at work?"

About three hours later, Maka arrives back at the apartment. She drops an arm full of bags onto the ground with a heavy sigh and slips out of her shoes. Liz had somehow coaxed her into going on a, quote, much needed retail therapy session, which resulted in her coming home with clothes she doesn't need. There's barely any space in her closet now considering the amount of shopping sprees she's done with Liz in the past. Granted, she could always sort through her belongings and donate some to charity, but that's a chore for another day.

Hooking her fingers to the back of her shoes, she picks them and her bags up and takes them to her room. She hears the water running from the bathroom and the sound of someone showering, telling her exactly where Soul is.

"Soul?" she says to the door with no answer.

Stepping closer, she hears the faint sounds of jazz music and the low hum of her roommate singing along. She hesitates before knocking, debating on whether she should soak up a minute or two to listen to him - his private concerts have always been her favorite perk of living with him - but settles on knocking. It feels like an evasion of his privacy if she were to do so. The times she's done it in the past were when he practiced pieces in his room; when they shared a paper thin wall and hearing the other couldn't be avoided.

"Soul?" she adds with her knock.

He pauses in his humming, and she hears the curtain being moved to the side.

"Maka? That you?"

"Yeah. I wanted to let you know I'm home so you don't walk around naked or something."

"Thanks for the heads up."

"No problem." She moves to head back in the direction of her room, but turns to the bathroom door instead. "Do you want take out for dinner? My treat?"

"I can always eat. Especially since you're buying," he says, and she hears the smug grin in his tone.

"Ass."

Maka ignores the way her chest warms at the sound of his light chuckle.

"Get me my usual and add an order of crab puffs. Two if you want one."

She wrinkles her nose. "I'll order you two since you're the one who likes them."

"Thanks, Maka."

Without replying, she heads to her room and dumps her bags and shoes in the space near her closet before falling on top of her bed. She sighs and stretches, the comfort of her mattress welcoming to her tired body, and pulls out her phone to order the food. Once she's done, she gives herself a few minutes to enjoy the silence that surrounds her to replay the events of the day.

Liz's persistence of her finding a fuck buddy - a disgusting term, but there's no way of putting it gently - is incredible. She's been telling Maka how badly she needs to get laid since they were in college, using Maka being away from her sleazy, overbearing Papa as an excuse along with the ideology that college is a time for new experiences. Joke was on her, though, because Maka was and still is the furthest from being that kind of girl.

It wasn't like she hadn't tried to have a fuck buddy in college. There had been a few guys that caught her eye in her study groups and classes that were all attractive in their own right - definitely none that were so egotistical like her blind dates nor in it for a hump and dump. The issue laid in the fact that when Maka delved deeper into it, thought a little too much about sleeping with them for a night or two, she always found herself repulsed by it. She didn't feel a connection or a reason to have sex with them. A connection that gave her reason to want to be with them, rubbing their naked bodies against each other.

For the longest time, she had thought there was something wrong with her because she wasn't sexually attracted to anyone of the opposite sex. She was broken, defective, the factory had forgotten to include the sex drive portion of her brain when assembling her. Her papa found it in himself to sleep around and have a different woman hanging off his arm every weekend, but she always struggled with it so of course there was something wrong with her.

That is, until last year when she started having perverted thoughts about her roommate.

Out of everyone in her life, it's Soul she always came close to considering as someone she wouldn't mind sleeping with. She trusts him, loves him, and knows he has her best intentions in mind. He isn't the type of man who fucks a girl and leaves them alone and cold in a bed, forever wondering what she did wrong because he disappeared the next morning. Soul's different; always was and always will be. He's the first guy she chose to trust and become friends with, the guy she's most comfortable being around, and she wouldn't change that for anything. One of the reasons she agreed to share an apartment with him was because she knew he wouldn't try to hit on her or purposefully walk in on her naked.

He respects her boundaries exactly like she respects him which is why she fell in love with him.

Or, maybe she had always been in love with him, but had always been to blind to see it.

"Who knew this would be so complicated," she mutters to herself before crawling out of bed to change into her pajamas.

Soul's drying his hair off when his phone buzzes on the bathroom counter. He spares a glance downward to see the first three letters of his brother's full name before the backlight dims. A groan audibly passes through him as he hangs the towel back on the rack, careful to spread it out so as not to have an angered Maka get on his ass about mildew and the smell of wet dog, and points his attention back to the text. It doesn't surprise him in the slightest when he reads Wes's annoyance about their mother asking him how the younger Evans sibling is doing.

Wesley Theodore: You know, instead of ignoring mom's calls and texts, you could just give her a life update for once. I don't like being the middleman.

Soul: All you have to do is tell her I'm not dead. It's not that hard.

In truth, there's no good reason for Soul to be avoiding his mother's attempts at contacting him. He adores his mother. She was the perfect half of his parents during his childhood and encouraged him to do what he wanted to do. The reason he hasn't text her back or answered her calls has more to do with the fact that he knows his father is right there beside her, waiting to berate his younger son for how much of a fucked up job he's doing in comparison to his eldest. A conversation Soul isn't much fond of having at the moment when his life and career are both going the way he wants them to be.

Being a high school music teacher makes him happy. His father needs to understand that.

His phone buzzes again when he finishes putting on his pajama pants. Typing out an annoyed reply that rivals his brother's, he heads out into the hallway and is too preoccupied putting the right amount of exclamation points and emojis to notice his roommates shorter frame walking in front of him, her own focus elsewhere. They end up colliding into each other, Maka with a small oof and Soul grunting at the impact. He instinctively puts his hands onto her shoulders to prevent her from falling back while her own lay flat against his bare chest.

Maka's touch sears against his skin, his heart rate quickening by the second, and tries to ignore the flush crawling along his cheeks. He brushes away all the lovey dovey expressions that float to the forefront of his mind as he apologizes for bumping into her. Repressed feelings are the last thing he needs in this situation.

"Sorry. I didn't see you there, Maka. You okay?"

It takes her a second, but she nods. "Mhm. Yeah. I'm fine. Should've been watching where I was going."

Soul leans back to look down at her and ensure she's truly fine because judging by her shaky and nervous voice, he doubts it. Her fingers curl into his chest, causing the heat to scorch harder and he thinks he might need another bath if only to scrub it and the emotions running through his blood away. He feels and hears her breathe heavily, the air cool against his skin. When she meets his gaze, his heart stutters. Rose pink is dusted over her cheeks giving her a lovely glow and green eyes are curtained behind blonde lashes giving her a sultry vibe that doesn't fit their current stance.

Her tongue flicks out to wet her lips, and Soul almost - almost - leans down to kiss her. He restrains himself, though, because she's his friend.

Just his friend.

No matter how much his heart begs to differ.

"Are you okay?" she asks, shaking him from his daze.

"Uh…"

He glances away from her to the space between them, his face burning at the realization of how incredibly close they are. Or maybe it's a combination of it and how adorable Maka looks wearing one of his old shirts.

Either way, he drops his hold on her, one hand rising to comb through his hair.

"'Course I'm okay," he lightly says. "Why wouldn't I be? Short thing like you can't do much damage to me."

The old middle school insult approach, he thinks to himself. Smooth.

Crossing her arms in front of her with a smirk, she says, "You know I can give you a bruise that'll last for well over a week with one single punch, right?"

A grimace falls on Soul's face as he remembers the last time Maka harmed someone with her fist. The great and mighty Black*Star did have it coming for teasing the pint-sized fighter, but he couldn't use his left arm for two weeks.

"Not gonna argue with that."

"Thought so." She holds his gaze for a couple seconds before she stares away from him, her cheeks reddening. "Our dinner's almost here so go put on a shirt or something. I'd rather not sit by you shirtless while eating, thanks."

"Oh. Right," Soul dumbly says. "I'll go do that while you set everything up. It's your turn to the pick the movie, but please no chick flick again."

"Weren't you the one who picked out the last chick flick?" Maka asks with a glint in her eyes and a cheeky grin.

"10 Things I Hate About You is technically a classic. It's not on the same level as some mushy, romance movie that's filled with cliches that makes you cringe every time you watch it."

"Like Titanic?"

"Titanic is also a classic."

"Don't forget you're the one who's bought probably half of the romcoms in our movie collection."

"I'm gonna go put a shirt on so I can avoid this conversation," Soul grumbles.

As he's passing Maka, she says, "I'll just embarrass you later on then," over her shoulder with a smile that makes his heart skip a beat.

How ironic.

Maka's composure drops when she hears Soul's door close.

A small sigh of relief escapes from her of its own accord as she rests her head against the wall, flexing her burning hands by her side. The feel of Soul's skin still lingers; it's warm and comforting and everything right in the world, but also wrong on so many levels because she hadn't expected him to be so broad and muscular. For a guy who spent most of his days fanboying over new movie updates for Star Wars, she hadn't realized he also worked out in his spare time. She didn't know what laid hidden beneath his tacky rock band shirts and graphic tees with lame video game slogans on them.

But now that she did know, it only serves to worsen her situation.

Images of herself touching Soul's chest in the most inappropriate ways dance behind her eyelids, her mouth ravishing every inch of him while his hands bury themselves in her hair. His breathy moans bouncing off the walls of her room as her nails press into his skin and scratch along a snowy happy trail to the waistband of his boxers. A coy look from her as she stares up at him beneath blonde lashes to see his heated gaze meet hers; Soul stifling a moan when she teases him by brushing her finger along the outline of his co-

No.

Her eyes fly open and she heads to the kitchen.

She won't allow herself to have such perverted thoughts about her roommate/best friend. They share an apartment together, she's used to seeing him walk around without a shirt on and the dazed look on his face when he brushes his teeth beside her. It's part of their routine, their lifestyle, and she definitely doesn't want her silly crush or erotic daydreams to interfere with that. What her and Soul have together is a good thing - a very good thing - and fuck her if she's going to screw that up.

Setting down a can of Diet Coke and Sprite on the counter, though, it does nothing to silence the voice in her head that sounds oddly similar to Liz. The voice that eggs her on, begs for her to give into her desires, and to accept she'll never stop loving Soul or wanting to be with him. Unless, maybe, she allows the pooling heat in her lower abdomen to take control. Maybe then, and only then, she'll truly move on from Soul because isn't there a saying about giving into temptation and being satisfied afterwards?

Probably not, but Maka may make one up if only for herself to believe in it.

A knock at the door draws her back to reality and her weekly night pigging out on takeout and watching crappy movies on Netflix with Soul. Typical experiences one has with her roommate. Not sexual encounters.

Nodding to herself, Maka tugs on the edge of her shirt, tosses her hair over her shoulder, and goes to answer the door. As she greets the delivery boy and signs the receipt, she promises herself not to let her hormones get the better of her tonight. She's an adult woman who's fully capable to resist matters of lust and urges on her own and not allow them to interfere with her friendship.

At least, she hopes she is.

Unfortunate for Maka, she couldn't have been more wrong.

The only reason she had chosen The Notebook as their movie for the night was so she had the chance to tease Soul and his undying love for the romantic movie (it's a classic, he tells her), but it didn't end up like that. Well, it did… for a good five minutes before Maka was painfully reminded of how awfully great the movie is. For a film based off a Nicholas Sparks novel, The Notebook has a great concept behind it. It knows where to hit even the most cynical of people in the heart with how cliche and wonderful Noah and Allie's story is. Maka ends up finding herself absorbed in the movie, and it serves as a painful reminder of how her life doesn't compare to Allie's.

Unlike Allie, she hasn't experienced what it's like to kiss someone in the middle of the street or make love to them in an abandoned house. She's a plain twenty-four year old woman who's only experience with the opposite sex is cuddling with her best friend on the couch which doesn't even count.

How she can think of sleeping with someone like Soul - someone who's definitely been with more people of the opposite sex than herself - is embarrassing. She can't compare to his past conquests. Girls who are no doubt like Liz and ooze confidence and sex appeal and shine brighter than someone like Maka. Someone whose stature resembles a twelve year old's rather than the gorgeous sex symbols plastered on every issue of Cosmo.

It's comical in the best situations, and yet…

A part of Maka is still curious.

"What's it like?" Maka asks, idly munching on some popcorn.

Soul finishes chewing his crab rangoon before saying, "What's what like?"

Maka glances at him beneath her lashes. "What's it like to kiss someone?"

He makes a throaty noise that sounds close to a cough, but she keeps her gaze fixed on him.

"Wh-why do you wanna know?" he chokes out. "And why do you wanna know from me?"

"Because," she shrugs, "you know what it's like to be kissed, and I'm curious."

She isn't surprised by his reaction since they had never talked about Soul's past conquests. Any time Liz thought to bring it up, Maka was always the one who either steered the conversation away from it or walked away entirely. Knowing what Soul did in his spare time had never been something she needed to know until now.

"Um, well… I'm not… I mean," he stutters out.

"You're not what?" she asks.

"I-I'm not sure how to explain it? I guess it's one of those things you need to experience first hand? I mean - why do you wanna know anyways, Maka? And why are you asking me instead of Liz? I'm sure she knows better than me."

"Because Liz always veers it to another topic, and I know you. You aren't the kinda person who'll do that."

"What other topics - Nevermind. Don't answer that. I know," he says with a slight shudder. "But still, why now? We've known each other for years, and you're just now bringing it up? It's pretty random, don't you think?"

"Not really considering Allie and Noah have made out god knows how many times since the start of the movie," Maka says, nodding to the screen. "And I'm asking now because maybe I've been thinking it's time for me to try it out or something."

Averting her gaze from him, Maka chews on her bottom lip as heat rises to her cheeks. Her stomach twists and knots, the anxiety and embarrassment bundling up inside of her in respect to the words sitting at the tip of her tongue. She knew it was inevitable to admit to this.

"I've never dated let alone kissed anyone before, and I'm curious to know what it's like. And since you've been with dozens of girls before, I thought maybe you could tell me."

"You've never been with someone?"

"No," she says, quietly. "And with me maybe seriously dating, I was wondering what it's like to kiss someone since I'll have to do it eventually."

"You don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to dating, Maka," Soul says, a slight tinge of teasing in his voice.

"I mean really date." Maka glances at him again, her gaze stern. "Not these silly blind dates Liz keeps setting me up on where I ditch them and run, but seriously finding someone to be with for the long run, you know?"

There's a pause.

"Yeah, I do," he says. It comes out like he's telling her a secret; so quiet and calm.

Another pause.

"Kissing someone," Soul starts and Maka's attention is all on his words, "isn't something you can read books about or learn from movies. You have to experience it for yourself and do what feels right in the situation... With the right person."

"So you just have to do it?"

"Yeah."

"Oh," is all Maka says and nods her head.

They sit there in silence as Allie and Noah venture out for a boat ride on the lake, but Maka's thoughts are too preoccupied with the idea of kissing Soul. It's the simplest of things she can ask him to do; the first step before asking if he wants to open a friends with benefits relationship with her. She'll be acting out on her pent up, lustful hormones, but she is her father's daughter after all. Even if she'd rather be in a relationship built on faith and love instead of lust compared to the old man, but isn't that technically what she has with Soul? Their friendship has been founded on the idea that she trusts him above anyone else; it's why she agreed to move into an apartment with him after they graduated college.

And she does indeed love him.

All she needs to do is take the plunge.

Mustering up the courage, Maka begrudgingly glances at Soul again, wanting to witness his reaction the moment it happens, and asks.

"Can you show me how to kiss?"

Soul's body freezes at her question. His Sprite can barely touches his lips as his mind processes and unfolds her question, taking it in for every meaning it can hide. Or maybe he misheard her because the Maka he knows wouldn't be so bold to ask him such a thing.

"I-I mean as my friend," she stammers out. "I know you don't like me in that way, and I don't like you like that either, but since I do plan on dating, I was thinking maybe it'd do me some good to practice kissing. And since you're my best friend, I thought maybe you wouldn't mind. But if you do, I understand! I don't wanna pressure you into doing something you don't want to do. It's purely up to you."

He sets his Sprite down and looks at her, eyes wide.

Definitely didn't mishear her.

"Yo-you want me to show you how to kiss?" he asks for further clarification.

Maka's mouth opens and closes like a fish before she finally says, "Yes?"

"Why?"

"Because you're my best friend, and I trust you."

Nodding, Soul drops his gaze to his lap.

Out of every possible situation he could have imagined earlier, this was by far the most outlandish one there was. Maka Albarn was asking him, Soul Evans, to kiss her. Really kiss her even if she claims it's purely for experimentation and practice which makes it sound like a science project. He doesn't much care, though. She could ask him to experiment every type of kissing there is (French, Eskimo, butterfly, anything), and he'd probably still say yes because it gives him the opportunity to kiss Maka fucking Albarn. The girl he's had a crush on for years and has been wanting to be with for so long.

Even if she wants to kiss him purely for the experience.

Then again, this is Maka Albarn. She isn't the type of girl who goes about kissing random boys and sleeping around. She doesn't test the waters or jump into relationships on a whim (her reputation as a runaway dater is proof enough). No, instead Maka's thorough and quizzical, goes about things in the most logical of senses, and above all else tends to over think, analyze, and worry far too much for her to be spontaneous. Which leads Soul to believe this isn't a question she brought about just because; she must have been debating this for a while now.

Still, he can't take advantage of her like that.

This is Maka Albarn, the girl he's madly in love with.

If he kisses her, he has to do things right. Hormones be damned.

"Before I give you an answer, I think I should tell you-" he starts before she interrupts him.

"I know."

"You know?"

"Mhm," she nods. "I know I'm not the type of girl you're into or anything like that, so why would you want to kiss me? I have tiny tits and a boyish frame, there's nothing at all appealing about me, so why would someone like you want to kiss me." She drops her gaze and tugs on the edge of her pajama shorts. "But you don't have to worry about me or my feelings because I don't like you like that either."

A sharp knife digs into his heart and twists at her words.

"So," she continues, unaware of Souls world crumbling around him. "I thought maybe since we don't have feelings for each other in that way, practicing kissing each other won't be so bad? No strings attached and all that business."

Her words sting and scorch his heart like a hot brand, but the way her blonde lashes frame around green eyes makes him ignore the pain. She's beautiful and enticing and everything wonderful about a girl. He doesn't think she's unattractive or plain or anything else she said, but his old self did do damage to her self esteem in ways he wished it didn't. Maybe if he had been a smarter nineteen year old back when they first met, he wouldn't have concealed his affections for her with such hurtful taunts expected from a middle schooler. Not someone who's meant to be an adult.

The damage has been done, though, in multitudes he can't take back.

No matter how much he wants to.

Maka doesn't love him the way he loves her, a truth he needs to suck up even if it hurts him to admit it. Maybe if he agrees to kiss her, it'll help subside the emotions he feels for her and finally get over the crush he's been harboring for years. It's selfish and gross of him, but there's no other way to do it. Kissing Maka now and moving on from her would be better than the pain that'll follow seeing her date other guys and bringing them to the apartment and canoodling on the couch where he and her used to canoodle. His heart won't weep over the loss, his jealousy won't get in the way of their friendship, and his mind will finally be at ease.

So maybe agreeing to kiss Maka will do good for him.

It's definitely worth the risk.

"Alright," he says. "I'll show you how to kiss."

"Really?" she asks, surprise etched in her voice.

"I'll help you with the kissing thing, but be warned, the kisses you have after this probably'll be different."

"I'll take my chances," Maka says a little too breathy.

A thick lump presses against her throat upon his agreeance. Her heart weighs heavy in her chest as a cold blade digs itself into it and twists to create excruciating pain. His lack of denial to her earlier accusation doesn't go unnoticed by her, but it also doesn't hide the fact he agreed to kiss her. She shouldn't feel so light and giddy and excited like a high school girl being asked to attend prom with her crush because either way, the kiss is going to leave her broken hearted and empty.

Yet, she can't help it.

He said yes.

She tries to remain calm and keep her crushing emotions at bay as she says, "So how should we do this?"

Soul glances towards the TV where Noah and Allie are waking up from their night of sexual trysts, Allie half naked as she paints, and Maka toys with the faint idea of how it must feel to see the love of your life after sex. She quickly pushes that idea away.

"Uh, I dunno," he shrugs. "Usually couples don't talk about kissing before they do it. It just happens."

"Then show me how to do it when I'm with someone," she says, tucking her legs beneath her on the couch as she turns to face him.

"Maka, that isn't-"

Placing her hand on his arm, she squeezes and says, "Please?"

Sanguine eyes skitter down to where her hand rests and his cheeks turn a shade pink. Maka quickly drops her hold from him and gives him a soft smile.

"Sorry, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

"Like asking me to kiss you didn't already?" he asks with a light laugh.

"If you don't want to, then just say it and we can pretend this-"

"No, no," he interjects. "I'll do it-I want to do it. It's just weird since you're my best friend and all."

"I know, but neither one of us has romantic feelings for the other so it's not like we have anything to really worry about, right?"

It's a last ditch effort to push out the truth from him, but when he gives her a solemn smile and nods, she knows her wishful thinking will remain the same. No matter how much she doesn't want it to.

"A friend doing a favor for a friend." Soul's leg bounces slightly as he sighs. "Alright, so let's do this like we're actually together. Scoot closer to me, and I'll put my arms around - Ah, put your legs down, yeah like that. And then I'll just… yep. That's good."

Her breathing is uneven and her heart beats a mile a minute as Soul cups his hand on her chin and lifts slightly so their lips are inches away. She can count the light freckles decorating his nose, his pale lashes surrounding his heavy gaze, and notices the small scar on his left cheek that never fully healed from when he was a kid. Up close, he's more beautiful than she expected him to be, but isn't at all surprised. Soul always did have features that could set any girls heart aflame, and Maka's is working over time as the excitement in her chest travels down to settle between her thighs. It definitely won't be easy to stop herself once they kiss, she knows it.

"So," he says, voice nervous and shaky, "when you're with someone, you two might be watching a movie together and sit on the couch like this and you two might look at each other and have a moment. That moment'll lead to this."

"What happens then?"

"Then, you, um, kiss."

Anticipation bubbles in her stomach. She sucks in a deep breath, tasting the strong scent of his pinewood body wash, and her heartbeat quickens.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asks.

She almost hates his consistent need to be sure of things before doing them.

"Yes."

He audibly swallows.

His lips press against hers before she has time to question whether she should close her eyes or not.

Sparks burst around her chest at the feel of his mouth on hers, the need to touch him tingles on her fingertips, and the familiar heat travels across her body. She fights back a moan as she relaxes against him, threading her hand through his hair to kiss him back; he makes a sound at her touch she thinks is a moan, but dismisses it right away. This moment is perfect and wonderful and she refuses to let any intrusive thoughts or needs get in the way. All that's there is Soul, his lips, and the want burning in her lower abdomen.

The word floats naturally across her mind, and Maka allows it to sink in to control her. She moves her mouth against him, savoring the way his mimics her motions, molds in perfect sync with her like a puzzle piece. Her nail beds dig into his scalp, a gruff groan emitting from his throat, and she breathes in heavily when she sucks his bottom lip. His hand grips her hip, pulling her toward him, as he kisses her back, hard and strong. It doesn't feel weird or awkward to be kissing her best friend like she had originally expected it to. Rather, it feels right and wholesome and everything a kiss shouldn't be given the circumstances.

Maka finds she doesn't want it to end as the hand not in his hair grips his shirt.

All she wants, all she needs, is to feel him closer to her. His body pressed against her as he caresses her while she moans his name, that mouth of his kissing more than just her lips. In the back of her mind, the part slowly being filled with desire and need, she thinks if Papa and Liz can have meaningless sex then so can I.

In the back of his mind, he thinks of how well Maka kisses him, the expert way her lips move against his, how naturally everything falls into place after he had believed this would be a chaste kiss. It's anything but that, though. He's kissed a good amount of girls in his life via his poor attempts to get over Maka, and none of them have ever left him filled with so much desire. Her hand tugs harder on his hair, pulling him closer to her; he feels her body heat against his shirt as a small moan sounds from her throat. It does things in his groin he hasn't experienced before save for the times he watched amateur porn on the nights he was really horny and desperate.

Soul strengthens his grip on her hip when she sucks on his bottom lip again, wanting nothing more than to feel her pressed against him. He kisses her back, relishing in the way another moan comes from her when he does so. It leaves him in a puddle of swirling heat in his lower abdomen. All he wants is her, her, her. Her sprawled out beneath him, moaning his name while his mouth savors every inch of her body, sucking the skin around her breasts, and spelling out the love he's felt for her for years between her thighs.

Except she's your friend, a voice whispers in the back of his head.

And it's right.

Maka's his friend, his best friend, and he's doing her a favor by kissing her right now. She had said it herself before he agreed to do it; they're only doing this because that's what friends do. They take their best friends first kiss without admitting they love them and want to be with them. He really should have told her no, confessed how he felt about her, but that would have complicated things.

Aren't you complicating things now, the voice asks.

He groans.

As much as he doesn't want to, he pulls away from Maka, breaking the kiss, but he can't use her like this. Especially not when his dick wants other things. Things he refuses to give into without knowing how she feels first.

Her emerald eyes are two shades darker when her eyes flutter open. He fights the urge to kiss them closed again and whisper sweet nothings against her skin. First, he needs to be honest with her.

"Maka, there's something I need to-"

"Do you wanna have sex with me?" she asks.