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CHAPTER 1

Masturbation was not something Maka did. She didn't have anything against the idea per se, it simply wasn't something she did. Sure, she got excited sometimes like any healthy person did. It was natural. And she didn't complain when the boys would take their shirts off during their weekly game of basketball, or when Soul would walk around the apartment in nothing but a towel. It was just the thought of her own fingers touching her intimate places didn't seem like an overtly sexy act. Now if someone else were to be touching her... well that was a completely different matter altogether.

Soul, was of a dissenting opinion. A male in the sexual prime of his young life needed... well needed sex, and sex Soul was not having. In the end, that left him with a lot of personal time, excessive use of lotion, and constantly running out of kleenex in his room. Luckily that was something Maka seemed blissfully naive of, always chalking it up to his 'stupid allergies' which he would simply nod to before taking the box of tissues and tossing them haphazardly into his room.

To be fair it wasn't completely Soul's fault for the 'condition' he constantly found himself in, not that he would ever dream of Maka. It was simply hard to handle. Night after night, mission after mission he would shift into Scythe form for Maka to wield, and wield she did. Inside the cold metal he could feel the soft fabric of her gloves running up and down his shaft. It was a torturous pleasure and one he would never voice his concerns over.

Oh he had brought it up with other weapons, kind of. Okay, maybe he had been slightly embarrassed to ask if anyone else became incredibly horny when their meister was wielding them. It simply seemed like something that would have been mentioned SOMETIME during his training if it was normal. So that only left him to suffer in silence... well maybe with a moan or two as he came before collapsing into his bed.

It was a ritual of sorts. Go on the mission, kill the kishin-egg, and then return home to furiously jerk it in peace while trying to ignore the fact it was his meister's skilled hands that brought on the self abuse and it was her hand that he was pretending was wrapped around his painfully stiff cock.

It was a ritual that had become so ingrained into his daily life over the years that he never thought that it could be interrupted. So when his door was pushed open unceremoniously after a late night mission and Maka walked in with his washed clothes cradled in her arms the shocked yelp was not exactly an over reaction.

"Maka!" Soul gasped, desperately grasping for a pillow to cover his erection as she continued to stare at him with wide green eyes.

"I..I washed your clothes." She said softly, eyes locked on the pillow that was doing a poor job at covering his obvious shame

"I was...thanks." He didn't know what to say. He wanted to scream at her to get out, preferably in a voice that presented him in a calm and collected manner but somehow he doubted he had the capacity to complete such a task in his condition. If anything it would come out a pathetic squeak, and he already felt pretty pathetic as Maka CONTINUED to stare at him with something akin to shock.

"So, uh..." she crossed the room and put his clothes down on his dresser. "I'm sorry for interrupting."

"That's okay." Soul gritted out as she made no movement to head back out of his room. Either to let him finish or simply curl into a ball of shame. Perhaps both.

"Do you." Maka licked her suddenly dry lips. "Do you do that a lot?"

"No!" Soul said, slightly too loud and too fast.

"It's completely normal!" She said quickly. "I mean, lots of people do it."

"Do you?"

"Well...no." She bit her bottom lip as his head sunk. Somehow it would have been much better to know he wasn't the only one in the house getting himself off. He let out a heavy sigh before looking up as Maka repeated. "So...a lot?"

"I mean...well..." He went silent. This wasn't exactly a conversation he had ever planned on having. Ever. "...after missions."

"Oh." she took a step towards the bed and he resisted the urge to slink away. "So it's like part of the mission."

"Y-yeah?" Soul's voice cracked as Maka perched on the edge of his bed.

"Why after missions?"

Fuck. Why the fuck would she ask that? Why would anyone ask that? Why had he even said anything. Just shut the fuck up Soul. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Why was his mouth opening?

"You."

DAMNIT.

Her eyes widened. "Me?"

His face was burning. He was going to set the bed on fire, he was sure of it. "Yeah, well you know... you're running your hands up and down my... well, me."

"I'm sorry." Maka said quietly as she slid slightly closer. "So, after every mission?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe." Soul jumped as she put her hand on the pillow, tugging on it gently. "Maybe I could help you."

"Wha?" He hissed as the soft fabric rubbed over him before he was about to grab the pillow. "Maka."

"Well, it's my fault." She continued to tug and he felt his grip loosen. "You're my weapon and... and technically it's part of the mission still."

The pillow fell away completely.

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Wrote another novel. Link is in my profile if your interested. Always love any feedback my readers can give me.