Caprice Chapter 8: Day 8, a soul eater fanfic

DAY 8: Of Star-Crossed Lovers Whose Orbits (Finally) Collide

or:

The Moment You've All Been Waiting For

or:

Everyone and Their Father Wants Soul Eater Horizontal

…

At this point, you know I don't own Soul Eater. I do own some sexy times, however, and they are located about halfway through the chapter. You are warned!

…

...

Soul's first reaction upon waking, face down on a ratty leather couch, was where the hell am I, and why does it smell like formaldehyde? The next, following closely on its heels, was Maka doesn't love me back. She was just waiting for it to be over. And now she'll know about me loving her; why else would her father be in her apartment? What the hell do I do now? The third reaction however, trumped both of those concerns: there is someone right behind me-

Soul flipped his body over, bringing a scythe arm in a defensive position in front of his chest. Even before he faced the intruder, he took a mental stock of the situation – his clothes were on, Spirit's drugs had worn off enough for him to function normally, and, as far as he could tell with his adrenaline pumping like this, the Nyne had worn off. All these were good things. It meant he could focus on whoever was trying to scare the piss out of him first thing in the morning.

"Ahh, Soul-kun. I see you awake quite vigorously in the mornings."

"Stein? What the- oh so that's why it smells like...wait, why am I here?"

"Ripped up my blanket, too. No wonder Maka looks annoyed most mornings. You must go through her blankets at an alarming rate."

Soul looked down at the shredded quilt on the floor. The apology died on his lips when he thought about another, slightly more literal meaning of Stein's last sentence. He was dangerously close to hating everything and anything he could think of, including trees, plastic bags, and air.

"I, uh. I can get you a new one. Sorry. So...how did I get here?" Yet the question was superfluous. Now that he was awake and not fearing for his life he could remember well enough – Stein had intercepted him during his mad dash from Maka's apartment, and, upon getting him to the lab, had promptly thrust a foul-smelling cloth at his face. Damn it, why were the middle-aged bachelors of Shibusen so intent on drugging him?

...On second thought, he did not want to know. He really did not want to know.

Stein smiled his infuriating, enigmatic smile, and settled onto the couch opposite of Soul's. "Well, I was just coming to pick Spirit up from his 'date' with Maka, (because we all know how those usually end) when you came stumbling out of the apartment complex on what I can only assume was a drunken rampage -"

"I was drugged," Soul ground out between clenched teeth. "Spirit fucking drugged me and it hadn't worn off yet."

Stein raised an eyebrow so subtly that it was barely perceivable. "Ahh? So that's what he used it for?" Soul's face warned him against continuing. "All right, all right. Anyway, you rush out onto the street, and it was fairly obvious you were- how shall I say...upset about something." He paused and shot a glance at Soul, but Soul's lips were sealed. "Something you are still upset about now."

Soul looked away, unable to hold the mad scientist's pinning gaze.

"And, as I had the privilege of speaking to both Maka and Spirit yesterday, I can hazard a guess as to what it is."

Great, even Stein knew. I am the lamest example of masculinity on the planet.

"Spirit refuses to accept you as a son-in-law."

The choked gurgle surprised Stein. He had never heard something like that coming from the normally cool and collected Soul Eater...when he wasn't proving his namesake, of course. He had also never seen the boy hang his head in his hands, clearly distraught. Huh. Will wonders never cease.

"That's...that's not it. Spirit had nothing to do with it, this time."

Stein tapped his chin reflectively. "So Maka doesn't want you to be her son-in-law?"

Soul exploded. "Gods damn it, Stein! She doesn't want me, ok? Do I have to tell every freaking person in Shibusen? I'm her partner and her weapon and her best friend and that is it."

"She told you this?"

"No, I- I overheard her talking to Spirit." Soul knew he had to get it together, but he couldn't help the bitter dejection in his voice. Stein pointedly ignored teen drama, and he certainly didn't want to hear this; no matter how much Stein seemed to like Maka and himself. Soul should go before he made an absolute fool of himself. "Look, it's ok. Thank you for taking care of me last night. And for not cutting me up. And letting me...get that off my chest. I can replace the blanket, too."

Stein leaned back and steepled his fingers, clearly not ready to drop the topic. "Now, now, Soul-kun. School doesn't start for another hour or so...and I did, as you say, take care of you last night. I have a few more questions..."

Soul sighed. He glance darted between the couch and the door, as if assessing his chances of getting out of there without getting dissected and/or drugged (again). Then he carefully sat back down on the couch, unconsciously betraying his upbringing for any who cared to look.

"That's better. Now, what did Maka tell Spirit?"

This was like pulling a tooth. The quicker it ended, the sooner he could go home and wallow in abject misery. "She said that she wouldn't take advantage of my feelings for her. That she had been able to hold back while Nyned, so 'going back to normal would be a relief.' That's kind of difficult to take out of context, Stein. She doesn't want me, and now knows that I...well, yeah. Yeah."

Stein casually crossed his legs, and calmly lit up a cigarette. "You made five mistakes, Soul-kun." He took a puff, and exhaled. "Two involve letting Spirit Albarn drug you – honestly what were you thinking - and the way you don't pick up your knees when you run. It makes you look like a duck. But that's in the past now. Would you like to know what the big three are?"

Soul's eyes narrowed. He really didn't want to be lectured, at the moment. Especially if the advice wasn't going to make any sense- duck my ass. And he really didn't like the smell of nicotine, yet he leaned forward nonetheless.

"Your first mistake was taking anything Maka said to her father at face value. While you may be honest in your dealings with Spirit, Maka generally is not. Her heart has been hurt by Spirit's actions time and time again. Why would she tell the truth about her feelings for you? She has been attempting to protect you for years...why would that change now?"

Because Nyne changed everything. Because he must have known we were kissing in the grocery store. Because she knows we had a serious talk about her.

...But could Stein be right? Was Maka just lying to protect me? Then Soul remembered how straightforward and honest she was. Could she have lied about something as important as this?

"Secondly, Spirit had been at your apartment for an hour by the time I picked you up. If that's all you heard, then you missed about an hour's worth of...conversation. Despite your protests to the contrary, I know for a fact that you heard something without understanding the context. You're not the only one who had a heart-to-heart the other day. Oh yes. Maka came to me desperate to know what Spirit was telling you – and to know if you'd be all right." He held up his hands at Soul's sudden, wolfish interest. "Ah ah ahh- not my news to tell. Although it does segue nicely into your third -well, fifth -mistake."

The ornamental Japanese fan met his forehead with no warning. It wasn't the most painful chop he had received within the last few days (hell, even the box of Christ Crackers hurt more than this) but it was disconcerting – since when had Stein 'learned' the Maka-chop?

"Your biggest mistake is running away when you could have simply talked to Maka about all of this. You know, your partner. The one you have sworn to protect with your life? I realize love is hard – I've never even tried, to be honest – but this is either a huge misunderstanding or an important change in your relationship, and running away solves nothing. Even I know that. Even Spirit knows that. So, Soul-kun. Those are the issues. Are you going to fix them?"

After a moment Soul stood, determined. Although he was galvanized by Stein's uncharacteristic speech, he still didn't hold out much hope. Save for Stein's mention of a secret talk with Maka...but even then, hope wasn't something that came to him easily. Dedication did, however. He was dedicated to Maka and their current relationship and this newfound resolve to make her his. So he would. One step at a time. Even if it took him his entire lifetime.

"Exit's that way, Soul-kun. Make me proud."

"Yes, sir."

…

...

Something was beeping. Black*Star slid into a partial awareness, pulling away from the inchoate security of his dreams. Something was beeping, and he needed to find it and stop the beeping, because Tsubaki was exhausted, and she needed to sleep. Finding the beep(ing thing) would be difficult, however, as his eyes refused to open, and there was something warm and pleasant lying against his side. Dimly, he wondered what it was. Maybe Tsubaki would know?

Tsubaki-

Black*Star woke up with a rush of awareness, and total recall of last evening. Tsubaki in the teddy. Tsubaki kissing and touching and seducing him. Tsubaki teaching him exactly what love was. Tsubaki who was currently sleeping in his embrace.

Black*Star gazed down at her. She slept with her mouth open, making the little snuffling sound that he had grown accustomed to after years of sharing a room in their youth. Her lips were red and swollen, and her hair was a wellspring of chaos, and she was utterly beautiful. Black*Star then remembered that by now, the Nyne had worn off.

He smiled.

Nothing had changed, he decided, snuggling in closer to Tsubaki while simultaneously switching off the alarm clock. Nothing had changed. And nothing would change. It was going to be a magnificent existence.

…

...

Maka had fallen asleep at 3 in the morning. Her father had left hours before then, after planting a tentative kiss on her scalp and a promise to contact Shinigami-sama and make up a reasonable excuse as to why they had broken into Soul's apartment last night. She had said nothing, merely turning away as he left. She was far too concerned with what she would say when Soul came back, what he would do, and how she could fix this situation. Currently, she saw only one option: to confess the truth of her feelings for him, and somehow convince him it was a compliment to his ego, not a reason for leaving her behind. She thought he wouldn't leave her behind. After all, if her words had hurt him this deeply, was it too much to hope that he returned her feelings? Or was the pain connected to the superficial lust generated by Nyne?

These thoughts whirled around in her head, leaving her drifting about this apartment, unable to form a solid plan of action. Finally she decided: Soul wasn't here, so she would wait here until he returned. He would return, and then she would be here, and then she would explain everything. Yet the hours of stressing and pacing and waiting took their toll, and when she finally succumbed and slumped over onto the couch she passed out, not waking up again until it was almost noon. Even then, Soul had still not come back.

It took only a few minutes of frenzied searching to discern that he hadn't come back and left before she awoke. So what then? Was he avoiding her? This was not the sort of situation her education covered, and Maka entertained dark thoughts about Shibusen's curriculum. Upon catching her reflection in the microwave, she realized that wasn't the only thing to worry about – she looked like hell. Were Soul to stroll through the front door right now; Nyned, primed, and ready to roll, he'd probably turn her down simply because she looked like she'd been run through a wheat thresher. Fuck. Maka weighed her options. Soul wasn't here, and neither did she know where he was. It was likely he'd passed out on a friend's couch, and if his night had been anything like hers, there was a good chance he'd still be sleeping. Additionally, it would be better for her to clean up a little before confessing her love. Showers were everyone's best friend, and all that. There was also a teeny tiny chance that Soul had somehow circled back to their apartment after she had raced out into the night looking for him. Decision made, Maka jogged out into the morning sun, not bothering to lock the door behind her. Her father...well. She had done quite a number on Soul's door, and it wouldn't be opening – or closing – anytime soon...

So great was Maka's preoccupation with finding Soul that she didn't realize he was in her apartment until she was staring directly at him. He was standing in the kitchen, not looking any better (or cleaner) than she was, and all thoughts of showering flew out of her head – he was right there. Then he turned and looked at her.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, surprised into immobility by the other's physical presence. Then, Maka stepped towards him, a peculiar light in her eyes.

Soul felt his courage draining away. In their relationship, she was the as the sun, just as he was the moon – she was the brash, heartfelt courage, while he slunk in the shadows, clothing himself in his sarcasms, and occasionally reflected her light. Yet there are times when even the moon eclipses the sun, and he was determined to make this one of those times. "Maka, I'm sorry I ran off last night. I can explain-"

"Soul, no, let me explain-"

"Maka-"

"No, please Soul. You have to listen – just this once. Please let me do this." She took a deep breath, and fixed him with pleading eyes that might have moved mountains, had they the same effect they did on his heart. "Soul, I know this may be hard to believe, but you honestly misunderstood me last night. When I said that it would be a relief to no longer be Nyned, it was in response to a very specific question Papa had asked. It wasn't because I don't..." She trailed off, noting Soul's terrifying lack of expression. Here was her worst fear; that he either wouldn't believe her, or wouldn't care. Still, she soldiered on. Her heart may break and she might even cry right in front of him, but her courage wouldn't fail her now. "Soul, I have something I have to tell you. Maybe I should have told you this a long time ago, and I still haven't totally come to terms with this, but- it is true, and I am not lying. Soul, I-"

"I love you."

Her eyes flew to his; unbelieving, uncomprehending. Yet her heart knew what her mind did not, and its beat increased in her chest. His gaze was so serious, so earnest, so utterly fixed on hers that her perception of the world around her dimmed, and everything in her universe stemmed from him.

He had to swallow before he continued, a combination from the sheer terror of confessing his love, and the reaction to seeing his partner turned to stone before him. Was she even breathing? And could this possibly be a good thing? "I've known it since we faced Arachne, but I know it's been there even longer than that. Maybe since Medusa injected me with the black blood. I don't know. What I do know, is that you – you are everything to me, and I can't let you go. Not even if you don't love me back." Soul ran a hair through his white hair, pushing the bangs back from his forehead, consternation written on his brow. "I love you, Maka. And I'm sorry if-"

Somewhere in the midst of his confession, Maka's brain had kicked into gear. Her reasoning skills were still impaired, but she had harrowed out the important bits – Soul loved her back – and was now pulling up a limited array of responses to them. The first thing her brain could come up with was pounce. So pounce she did.

Her momentum pushed them up against the refrigerator, but Soul didn't seem to mind. Even when her fingers were lacing themselves through his hair, and she was bringing her face to hers. Especiallywhen she murmured IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou as a mantra against his warm lips. By then, Soul not only didn't mind, but had taken over control again, holding her close to him and kissing her deeply. It was, for their extents and purposes, their first kiss. It was experienced in the waking world, full of sweetness and contradictions, and as ephemeral as only real life can be. It was a moment neither of them ever forgot, and would serve as a shield against madness in the years to come.

Yet in the here and now, Maka's mind had gone calm and quiet, forgetting its ingrained fears that she would be like her father, and her newfound worries that she might instead be as her mother. Her senses were filled with Soul – his hands like fire against her body; his clean smell that she could feel sinking down into her skin; the swallowed groans and hums that evoked her response, and the taste of his mouth that shot delicious waves of heat throughout her body. How could she have waited so long for this? How could she have resisted this?

She remembered, vaguely, what he had enjoyed in the black room. It did not take as much courage as she would have assumed to flick her tongue across his lips, reveling in his sharp exhale as she did. It was providence that she had opened her eyes to see his reaction – his eyes were dark, hazy, and utterly predatory. Maka had not realized she would be so turned on by dominance. She would have to remember that for the future...

The detente lasted only a moment before Soul leaned back into her, welcoming her tentative forays across his lips, and retaliating with some of his own. His movements were different than hers, slower and far more languid, while hers were born of frenetic rushes of sexual energy. Yet the slow pass his tongue against her lips and teeth was driving her insane. She needed him. She had very little sexual experience but she knew her body, and she needed him right now.

"Soul, we should-"

"Wait, Maka. Wait." He held her close to him, sinking his head against her neck. He inhaled deeply, and Maka felt desire stirring like a tangible force deep within her. Then they both spoke.

"I know, it's too fast-"

"Let's just get out of the kitchen-"

Maka's cheeks bloomed red as Soul stared at her, wide-eyed in surprise and desire. She squeezed her knees together and knew, without a doubt, that she was her father's daughter. She knew she should wait for marriage, but she also knew she wasn't going one more day without Soul belonging to her, physically and completely. Now, assured of Soul's love as well as his devotion, she did not give a damn about anything else.

"Are you sure?" His voice was alternatively low and crackly, and only 3 shades above desperate. Sweet gods he hoped she was certain. After the week-long buildup he wasn't sure how he was going to last...

Maka nodded slowly. Then, she gently took his hand, and slowly lead him to her bedroom, only breaking eye contact to locate and turn the doorknob. Neither said a word until they were on the other side of the door, shut safely away from the world.

Soul moved close to her, so that he could rest his forehead against hers. "You're beautiful," he mumbled, effectively handing over his Cool Card. He wasn't sure how Cool Guys handled intimate encounters with their loved ones, nor how Maka would take outright praise, but he was Soul, gods damn it, and he was going to say it. "So damn beautiful." Judging by the flush steadily creeping across her cheeks, it was the right thing to say. Almost as right as nudging her face back just enough so that he could kiss her again. Kissing her would never get old, he knew. Not when there was always so much to pay attention to – her lips, her tentative fingers trailing paths over his skin, the little noises that she made. Of course, there was also the matter of her body to attend to, and it was a matter that was definitely beginning to pull on his attention. Maybe there were still some vestiges of Nyne left in him, but the siren call to bring their bodies together was quickly overpowering his romantic ideals. Judging by the way her fingers were beginning to catch on his shoulders and hips with a little more desperation than was necessary, Maka felt the same. Against her lips, Soul smirked. This was glorious.

This was insanity. Maka couldn't take much more of this. Her body was burning up out of her control, and she was beginning to get frustrated with Soul's patience. Wasn't he the man here? Wasn't he the one desperate to disrobe and deflower the willing female? He was her weapon, however. Maybe he was waiting for her lead? Therein lay the rub – she didn't know how to lead.

She knew Soul didn't either, which was partially why he was so hesitant to move beyond simple (scorching) kisses and hesitant (hot as hell) caresses. But the boy watched porn! He pleasured himself! He had to have some idea! And she, apt pupil that she was, was ready to learn.

Her chance materialized when Soul began to trace slow paths up and down her earlobe with his tongue. "Mmm- Soul?"

"Yes, my master?" His voice was low, sultry, and entirely to sexy for words. A small part of her wondered that she could so easily give total control over herself to Soul, but the larger portion of her knew that her trust in him was not only well-deserved, but natural and unshakeable. There was also no way she could deny him when he was doing that sexy yes master...thing. Both parts of her were utterly in accordance that this was the sexiest thing that had ever happened to her, and there was no power on earth that was going to stop it.

"I don't know- ahh – exactly what to do. - Uhhh Soul- Will you," a sharp inhale as he teased her earlobe between his teeth, "teach me?"

Soul was fairly sure he was having a heart attack, or this was the most delicious dream of his life. Could it be possible that Maka Albarn had actually used those words in a sentence? In that context? All the drama and pain of the last week had been worth it, just to be in this position now. All of it. "I'll do my best..." Was she really giving him this much power, this much responsibility for her pleasure, happiness, and well-being? He supposed it was understandable. After all, he'd given her all of that years ago. He gave her one last lingering kiss before taking a step away from her, so that he could look her in the eye. "Step one: Undress your partner. Slowly."

The blood staining her cheeks would be there for all time, she was sure of it. "But...but the lights-"

Soul reached out and deftly flicked the light switch down. The light that filtered in through the curtains would be enough to assuage Maka's modesty, he hoped. "Better? I can go first, if you want. I can distract you if you get nervous..." Soul was looking forward to that part, to be honest, but Maka shook her head, shy yet determined.

"I want to go first. If that's ok?"

The thought of Maka's eyes and hands roving over his body made it more than ok. Besides, she was obviously far more nervous about this than him, and he'd do anything to set her at ease. "C'mere then." He grinned his lopsided grin at her, beckoning to her.

Maka ran her hands up his chest, smoothing over his shoulders, trickling down his arms. She was obviously a little lost and nervous, and utterly adorable. Soul half took pity on her and on his supercharged libido, and took things in hand. "Here, how about we do this together?" He ran the backs of his fingers down her face, chin, and neck until he reached the first button on her blouse. She mimicked him, not realizing that the fact that they were both wearing button up shirts was a piece of symmetry that would have had Kid squealing.

Her fingers were trembling at the buttons. She was still freaking out a little. Obviously he had to do something about this. "Want to know one of the things I love most about you?"

"My small breasts?" Maybe he was wrong about her freaking out. If she could still manage sarcasm at this moment she was probably ok.

"No. Well, yeah- but what I was going to say was," He was at the fourth button now, and was almost distracted by a peek of cleavage, "the look you get when there's a good chance we're about to get trampled. It's this light in your eye – not madness, but maybe something similar – and I know that when I see it, I don't care if I live or die. It means we're together, and we're about to do something amazing, and that you're the bravest person I know. I love that. Is that weird?"

"Not as much as it should be. But that wasn't very romantic, Soul." Another button undone.

"I'm trying, Maka." One button left...

"It was downright morbid, in fact."

"I am trying very hard." There.

She smiled then, and yanked on the now open flaps of his shirt. "I appreciate it, however. Now kiss me."

He brought their lips together, and in the moment before their lips touched, he whispered against them. "Step two: touch each other."

The press of their lips chased away their thoughts, and brought them back to the urgent present. Yet Maka didn't feel as nervous anymore. Maybe it was Soul's awkward attempt at wooing, but her hesitancy was gone. And so, when she felt long fingers against her stomach, hips, and back, she didn't shy away. She merely brought her own fingers to his chest, where the barely raised nubs called to her – she remembered Soul had appreciated this...

His fingers were skimming up her back, and for a moment she was disappointed. Hitherto, they had always mimicked each other, and her breasts felt heavy and full, practically aching for attention. Yet then she felt him fumbling with the clasp, and she understood. Something naughty prompted her to pull on his nipples a little more distinctly, and she was rewarded with a ragged moan. His fingers stilled for a moment, clearly processing the pleasure. Then they twisted luckily, and her bra was undone.

The next thing Maka knew was that her bra was hanging halfway down her stomach, straps caught awkwardly at her elbows, and Soul's hands were all over her. For a moment she attempted to shimmy out of her bra, but then she was far too distracted with Soul's ministrations. His attention was primarily on her nipples, pleasingly pink and large in comparison to her breasts. He twisted and flicked, tugged and rubbed, and shamefully soon Maka was spiraling into a dizzy haze. The warmth between her legs was quickly becoming a trickling moisture that she couldn't help but rub her legs together to offset. Thinking that Soul might feel something similar, she reached a tentative hand between his legs, jerkily coming into contact with an oddly-shaped bulge that even she (innocent as she was) knew was his penis. Especially when he shuddered, and his lips stilled against hers. She ran her fingers over it, slowly adding more pressure. When she finally cupped her hand over it, pressing firmly, Soul groaned and his fingers twisted a little too tightly, causing her to squeak. He pulled back, instantly contrite. Yet then a lazy smile settled onto his face.

"Here, let me kiss them and make it better-"

The his mouth was on her, swirling first around one nipple, and then the other. Maka let out a strangled sound as she dug her fingers into his hair. She was so distracted by the feel of his mouth on her, kissing and licking and sucking- that she was easily led backwards, and was surprised to feel herself falling onto bed a moment later.

It was somehow worlds more intimate when they were on the bed, the force of gravity pushing his body against hers. Now it felt more natural to run her fingers through his hair as he trailed hot kisses from one breast to another. And when his fingers started trailing ascending patterns over her long legs, it felt good to wriggle her hips against the bed and provide him a bit more access. The dizzy haze was back in full force, but Maka was long past caring – she merely wanted to touch Soul and make him feel as good as he was making her feel. So she pulled him up to her, and whispered a collection of naughty words she'd never thought she'd say. "Soul. Step One. Take your pants off."

Soul's cock twitched against his newly outlawed pants, and for a moment he had to breathe deeply or risk embarrassing himself. There was a large part of him that wanted nothing more than to simply thrust himself inside of her, and never come back out again. But even more than that he wanted her to feel the amount of pleasure he would. Talk about pressure and being whipped, all at once... Yet her fingers were bypassing his hesitation, and were already working at the zipper on his jeans. Pressing a quick kiss to her temple, Soul leaned on one elbow and helped her with the button, and between the two of them his pants were soon laying in a crumpled heap on the floor. Moments later, her skirt was being shimmied down her legs, a far more pleasing process, in Soul's opinion. Yet then there were only scraps of cloth between them, and it was a hell of a lot harder to control himself. He had wanted to approach her with collected reverence, but he was afraid he was already tipping onto the desperate side of the spectrum. Amazingly, she didn't seem to mind. She pushed up against him when he touched her more forcefully than he had intended, as if she wanted even more contact, and she gasped when he accidentally squeezed her inner thigh a bit too roughly.

"Ahh I'm sorry-"

Maka grimaced at him as she raised herself up on her elbows. "Soul. I'm not made of glass, you know. It feels...it feels good when you do that. You don't have to be so careful."

Well then. He would just have to enjoy himself, wouldn't he- Without vacillating further, he tore through the sides of her panties with a careful scythe finger, ignoring Maka's squawk of protest. Then long, human fingers were rubbing against her core, and his technician fell back against the bed, making delicious little hums of satisfaction, and occasionally flicking her hips just the tiniest bit.

For once, Maka couldn't care about her conduct. She was far too busy processing the warm, trickling pleasure emanating upwards throughout her body. How did Soul know how to do this? How could mere fingers against slick folds of flesh make the rest of her body tingle with flashes of pleasure? Coherent thought was lost when she felt a finger nudge inside of her, however. It was impossible to describe how it felt – all she could think was that she was meant to be filled, and finally Soul was the one doing it. She wondered at his harsh exhalation, and the look of pained pleasure on his face – did he feel the same amount of dizzying pleasure from this act that she did? He must have, for just as he began to thrust his finger in and out of her, he added another one, and the look on his face didn't change.

Maka could feel his fingers pushing against the sides of her womb, and although she had always expected this experience to feel alien and awkward, it felt amazing. It was not merely pleasure in and off itself, like it had been when he had been caressing her clit – it was the primal knowledge that she was finally whole, and that she was joining together with Soul in a way that could not be undone. Yet the pleasure was not to be ignored. The trickling heat was quickly fanned into roiling waves of pleasure, and she no longer had the presence of mind to hold herself back. So, with years of sexual frustration and thwarted love driving her, Maka moaned, "Soul. I want you. Please."

Soul stilled for a moment, utterly torn between continuing and fulfilling one of his sexiest fantasies (causing her to orgasm, all by himself) and jumping backwards off the bed to secure Blair's unexpected geniu- gift. He even knew where the box was, having practically stumbled over it when he'd first gotten to the apartment, and had snooped around Maka's room to see if she'd been hiding under the bed. He slipped his thumb over her clit a few more times before the twitching in his cock and Maka's moans stopped him. She wanted this...he wanted this...why was he prolonging this? Yes, he was halfway to coming right fucking now and he definitely wouldn't last long, as Cool Young Gentlemen were supposed to...but this was Maka, and if she wanted him, it was going to happen. Right now.

In the end, he didn't even have to get off the bed. He simply withdrew his hand, (resisting the temptation to lick it and fulfill another 4 fantasies,) and reached down to grab the box. It was the work of a moment to extricate a single square package from the multitude, and a markedly longer moment to figure out which way was in fact the correct way. Things were made more difficult by Maka running a languid hand up and down her body, sometimes pausing to tweak a nipple, sometimes to gently rub against the hidden jewel amongst her folds. Oh shit, there was another 18 fantasies right there...

Swearing, Soul finally rolled the latex over his throbbing death scythe junior, and leaned back over her, careful not to bring their lower bodies into contact yet. Maka was arching towards him, eager as always to get this show on the road, but for once Soul was going to be completely in control. After all, this wasn't like a first kiss. Athletic as she was, Soul knew this was going to hurt her, and no matter how reckless she may be it was his job to protect her, and shield her from as much pain as he could.

"Maka. I love you. Now and forever - I love you." Before she could respond verbally (he saw something blossom against the lustful haze in her eyes, and knew that she loved him too) he bent down and captured her lips with his for a chaste, reassuring kiss. Then slowly, oh so fucking slowly, he nudged the tip of himself into her. Just ¼ inch. Just enough to calm her down, and to realize that there was no other experience quite like sinking himself into her. Yet ¼ inch was never enough, so he soldiered (slowly) on, trying his best not to just shove himself inside. She made it extremely difficult, however, with her cliched, ridiculous, glorious pressure and heat and slickness... Soul bit his lip and groaned against her mouth as he surrendered another ½ inch to her. And then another, and another. It was torture of the most exquisite kind, and there was a hell of a lot of temptation to just let go and fuck her but the careful, almost-in-pain expression on Maka's face held him back. As soon as he was more than halfway in this was going to seriously hurt, he knew it. Yet then there was another ½ inch in, and he was over the halfway point, and he was about to fucking lose it-

Maka's pained inhale pulled him out of his thoughts, and almost caused him to pull out of her. "I'm sorry Maka, are you- should I pull out?"

She shook her head frenetically, and Soul felt her hands grab his ass. "Soul. Just...all the way, please. Like ripping off a bandaid, ok? All at once. Please."

Soul's gulped. He was entirely unconvinced that he could do that. Yet this was Maka, and there was no way he was going to gainsay her at the moment. So, gritting his teeth and squeezing shut his eyes, he thrust in completely.

His pleasure-addled groan mingled with her pained gasp, and it took all of his fortitude not to pull back and slam into her and never, ever stop. Somehow he found the strength to wait, even though he felt as if his cock was on fire (in the best way possible.) Yet every one of the following moments was sheer, hellish bliss. He knew he should open his eyes to see if Maka was still grimacing in pain, but he suspected that if he unscrewed his eyelids the sight of her under him, naked and all hiswould demolish what little self-control he had left. So he froze, trembling, praying that Maka's pain would subside...any moment now.

Maka, on the other hand, was trying her best to focus on anything but the sharp pain in her womb. When she had heard – well, read – about losing one's virginity, she had always imagined the pain between her legs...not this splitting sensation that was directly inside the center of her body, something that felt foreign and dangerous and yet at the same time intrinsically correct. Beyond that pain, however, there was the odd sensation of being full, and completing what she had always considered as a physical alternative to soul resonance. She wasn't sure what she thought about that theory, now that it was happening to her. There was simply too much Soul in the equation, and she couldn't find her sense of self when she was hyper-focused on her partner, the way he was shaking above her, and the way he felt inside her. Yet now the pain was finally fading, and after she'd made a tentative shift of her own hips, she was ready for Soul to move as well.

"Soul...you can-ah!" His body had gotten the picture before she had, and barely a moment after she had moved against him, he had let go. Unable to take the stillness any longer he had pulled back before pushing in again, even more deeply than before if that were possible. Then, because once was never enough, he repeated the motion, quickly gaining confidence when Maka showed no sign of pain, disgust, or inexplicable death. Within a few more strokes he had established a slow, deliberate rhythm in order to let Maka adjust. In the back of his head he suspected this sort of pace was ideal for a slow, simmering build-up, but at the moment the entirety of his concentration was focused on the organ currently sliding in and out of Maka, and her reaction to it. Thankfully, she seemed to be enjoying this as well, if he could judge by her erratic breathing patterns, high-pitched moans, the hands that desperately clutched his shoulders, and the way her hips kept pushing up against his own. The only problem was that if she kept this up, he'd be coming far more quickly than he'd like, especially because Maka hadn't come, and he had no idea if she was going to. Was she one of those vaunted women who could come without external stimulation? While he knew it wasn't the end of the world if she didn't come before he did, and that he could always service her afterwards, right now it seemed imperative that he take care of her needs first. Anytime, really. Maybe like right now.

Perhaps he could do something to address that – Soul quickly reviewed his options. There was a position that would afford them the intimacy of looking each other in the eye as they proceeded...but was Maka flexible enough? Soul thought back to any number of battles over the last three years and the answer was a definitive hell yes. So, after one last thrust, he pulled out completely, nearly falling off the bed in his haste.

"Soul? What happened? Where are you..."

"Right here, love. Just wanted to take care of you, too." He pulled her to the edge of the bed so that she was almost hanging off, and positioned himself at her entrance. Thank Shinigami for his unreasonably tall bed...! He sank into her again, this time delighting that her groan was no longer pained, but an expression of her pleasure. With his feet on the floor it was a little easier to control the speed of his thrusts, although gauging depth was still a minor issue. Yet this way, he could lean over her, continue to kiss her, and snake his hand between their bodies...

Maka gasped as she felt his hands on her breasts, rougher now than he had been before, but he was unquestionably more distracted now than then, and at the moment it all felt too good to be denied. His pace was faster now, and she couldn't help but moan into his mouth as his cock shuttled in and out of her. Coherent thoughts and complex sentences were not a thing of the here and now, but she did know that this was something she should have done a long time ago, and would cease never. Especially when Soul's fingers dipped lower, and with her own fingers shakily guiding him, began to rub haphazard circles over her wet clitoris. As if her heightening sense of pleasure and his were connected, his thrusts became faster and more forceful, and dimly Maka wondered if he was close. Yet it was hard to think about anything else when she knew for certain that she wouldn't last much longer. The trickling heat had returned with a vengeance, and every stroke just fanned the flame further until in the end she was ablaze, back arching off the bed as every cell in her body spontaneously combusted, flinging her into that primal, euphoric stratosphere. For a long moment she drifted there, unaware that she had screamed her lover's name, too overcome by the sudden cresting of the wave. Somewhere far below her, she was vaguely aware that Soul was pounding into her harder than ever, but it wasn't until he called her name that Maka realized Soul was on the opposite edge of the wave than her. "Soul. Come for me. Come, Soul, I love you so much-"

Soul hissed as he came, and the expression on his face as he was undone was one that Maka would take to her grave. There was a jagged beauty in seeing Soul's composure break apart at the seams, more so because it was for love of her. It was more important than the slow cessation of his hips against hers, and the exhaustion that was slowly creeping over her body. It was, while it lasted, more important than remembering how to breathe. As Soul came down from his own high, Maka's heart swelled and all the fears, doubts, and insecurities she had undergone this past week were suddenly incredibly precious to her. Without them she wouldn't have realized the extent of her love for Soul, and wouldn't be here now whispering her love for him as he slumped down on top of her, just as exhausted as she was. She also wouldn't be here giggling quietly as Soul dazedly pulled out of her, staring at her through drooping eyelashes as if she were the most wonderful thing he had ever seen. And she most certainly would not have lain on the bed within the confines of his embrace, basking in the afterglow of a long belated and much needed union, drifting off into dreams of a happy, hectic future.

…

They dozed for hours, tangling together on the bed as the sun filtered in through the curtains, dimly illuminating the room. Their love for each other threaded through their dreams, and if one woke the other by an insistent caress or a meeting of lips became something more, it was only to be expected. In this manner did they while away the afternoon, until the dwindling light and the occasional rumble from their stomachs prompted them to slowly rise, and, in Maka's case, wish they had taken her virginity on a towel.

"Ahh Soul- I'm so sorry! I didn't realize there would be so much...well, you know. Blood." She cringed as she looked down at it. That was...pretty gross.

For once, Soul didn't panic about the thought of his technician's blood being anywhere other than inside her body, as was the proper place. "It's fine, Maka. Laundry day's tomorrow, anyway. One night won't kill it." Then, because he was utterly sated, he nuzzled her neck, hoping to will her tension away.

Yet for some odd reason, her tension only increased. "Soul?"

"Yes, love?" Maybe if he placed a kiss or two on her neck it would work?

"Is today Monday?"

Soul thought the question odd, but didn't hesitate to respond. "Mhhhm."

Her sudden intake of breath was his only warning. "Maka-CHOP!" Her hand came out of nowhere, landing firmly on his skull. Needless to say, all thoughts of further exploring Maka's neck were abandoned.

"Oww! Maka! What the hell?"

"We had school today! We missed an entire day of school!"

Soul winced. He had been hoping she wouldn't realize that until tomorrow...

"We need to contact Shinigami-sama, and Professor Stein, and-"

Soul would have winced harder, had it been possible to do so.

Now, even Maka began to look deflated, and wound down accordingly. "And...Papa-"

That was it. Clearly, leaving the bed was a bad idea. There was only one solution. Unceremoniously, he picked her up and dumped her back down onto the bed.

"Soul! Hey! What are you-" Further protest was cut off by his mouth that slanted over hers, and fingers that began to trail down her over-stimulated skin. Within minutes, they were working steadily towards fever pitch, and whether by luck or design, neither Soul nor Maka thought about anything else for the rest of the night.

…

Halfway across town in Stein's laboratory, a middle-aged man was weeping. "My precious darling! The love of my life! In the hands of that brat! I can't stand it! How could it have come to this? How- why – WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

Stein sighed, and surreptitiously sprinkled an odorless, tasteless, powder into one of the mugs of coffee he was currently preparing. "Hai, hai, Senpai. Here, take this. It's not as good as yours, but it will have to do."

Spirit accepted the cup and sipped gratefully, barely pausing in the outpouring of his grief. Unbeknownst to him, however, Stein allowed himself a little smirk. A little of Spirit's complaining, a little tasteless, untraceable rohypnol...tonight was going to be just like old times.

Yet just as Stein was turning to give Spirit his full attention (it would only be another 10 minutes or so, what with the concentrated dosage he had administered) his eyes swung to a journal wedged in between an old cookbook and several pamphlets on motor repair. It seemed innocuous enough. No one would ever suspect that within its pages lay not only an in depth study of Nyne, its symptoms, and all the people it affected, but also the formula...

...and the antidote.

Science was fun.

…

Muahahaha. Who saw that coming? Be honest, now. To be fair, Stein didn't envision the Forces of Chaos coming into play...but you bet your buttons that he loved every moment! -To be clear, Stein invented Nyne, and then scattered it aroundso that the Witches would find it(yet not understand it) - something that may come up in the epilogue.

There will be an epilogue (someday), but for most extents and purposes this fic is pretty much finished. PM me if you really want to know about any loose ends, and I will do my best to respond...and get that epilogue up faster!

There is also a slight, slight chance of a sequel. Just putting that out there.

…

Dear tigerhorse,

About your prize oneshot...which, I will announce, shall be named Stein's Shoppe of Curios. (Are you excited? I fucking am. Love Stein. Love. Him.) It may be becoming something rather larger, but the first installment should hopefully be up soon, so stay tuned :)

…

Yet on the most serious note, (of all my serious notes,) I would like to thank anyone and everyone for reading, favoriting, alerting, reviewing, (etc. etc.) this fic. I'll let you be the judge on how this turned out, but either way, I'm ridiculously grateful to those who have stuck with me on this.

*Takes a bow*

Until next time!