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Maka and Soul have been dating for barely a week. They're already pretty comfortable around each other, except when it comes to physical contact. Before they dated, they'd always be touching, but they'd brush it off as friendly. Maka would take his hand and tug on it when she got excited about going somewhere, Soul's head would find her lap when she was reading, and sometimes they would even inadvertently end up cuddling on the couch during a movie. Inevitably, when the movie was over they'd drift apart, blushing, say goodnight and pretend it hadn't happened.
Now that they're dating, though, it should be easy, right?
Nope.
Maka had tried to reason with herself that it's a very simple matter and it really shouldn't be so hard getting used to the possibility of romantic undertones in every physical interaction. However, any touch does not go unnoticed. They can't be brushed off as friendly or innocent anymore.
Soul is hyperaware of it, too, and it's really starting to bother him. Especially when Maka is sitting in his lap and playing with his hair. She's touched his hair a million times before, but this time feels different. She's not just his friend anymore. She's his girlfriend. And she's sitting on his lap and lightly tugging on his hair and normally it would relax him but right now it doesn't. If anything it's making him more tense. He's losing his mind desperately trying to fight off a blush and another involuntary reaction.
Maka, of course, doesn't take notice. She's lost in how soft his hair is, completely oblivious to the way she controls his breathing. If she tugs it a certain way, his breath comes out faster, louder. She's just mesmerized by the way it sticks up in certain places.
He's trying to restrain himself from making too much noise because he's not sure if she realizes how her innocent touches are affecting him.
She glances down at his face and her hands momentarily pause.
"Are you okay? I'm not hurting you, am I?" Maka leans away from him and he lets out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
He huffs out half a laugh before taking in more air. He needs to learn how to get his lungs to function when she's this close to him.
"No— not all. Just, ah…" He lets out a chuckle realizing she'd literally been stealing his breath away. "You're really close."
"What? You have no problems with it when we're kissing," she teases, moving one of her hands to the nape of his neck.
"That's different."
"Is it?" Maka hesitates before she leans in closer and Soul's mind fogs up a little. The smell of her sweet shampoo combined with just the smell of her overwhelms his senses.
"Isn't it?" He asks quietly. Her gaze seems to switch to something more amused.
She leans away again, pouting thoughtfully, considering his question. All this shifting around isn't helping his growing problem.
"I didn't think it was," she muses. "How is it different, Soul?" She fixes him with an intense gaze.
"Uh," is his eloquent reply.
Maka holds back a giggle, looking at his dumbstruck expression. Her hands cup his face gently and she holds him there, admiring his red puppy eyes, confused and pleading for an explanation. He looks so vulnerable when he's not busy holding up his "cool" exterior.
Soul is trying to distinguish coherent thoughts in his head. He feels like he's in a dreamlike state, wishing he could run but instead he's trapped and trudging through mush. Except he also is the mush.
Maka's gentle hands caress his face, reverently trace his jawline, then around and up again into his hair. They rest there as she plays with a tuft of hair. He is reduced to putty in her hands.
He's relaxed now, but a part of him is still strung up with nerves at the notion that Maka might not be happy with... That.
Her fingertips lightly trace the shell of his left ear and he shivers. His eyelids flutter shut and his mouth hangs open. There's no way she isn't aware of the boner now.
"Oh," Maka breathes out.
Soul sluggishly lets his head fall back against the top edge of the couch. He lets out a long, low groan. Why did he have to ruin such a perfect moment with hormones? He knows what comes next and he's already anticipating the inevitable Maka chop.
But it didn't come. Instead, her hands continue their gentle endeavors. One stays in his hair, and the other moves to his right ear, attempting to replicate whatever it is she had done on the left one. Soul gasps and his own hands fly up to still her movements. His eyes open. Bewildered, he realizes he seems to have forgotten how to speak, so he settles on openly staring at her.
Maka looks a little too pleased with herself. Her barely-constrained smug smile and mischievous eyes give her away. She draws closer to him, aware that all of his attention is on her. His head turns to follow her descent but she holds it in place with a tug of his hair. Her lips come close to his ear, almost touching.
"Are your ears really that sensitive?" She whispers, but she doesn't expect an answer.
Blood rushes to his face. Maka nuzzles his cheek and looks at him, drinking up his reactions to her.
He's watching her like a hawk, unwilling to let his guard down lest she perform any more witchcraft on him. He's not too keen on letting her draw more pathetic sounds out of him.
Maka starts kissing his cheek and then down along his jaw. He grasps her waist and decides he might as well give in. She's won but it kind of feels like he's winning, too. He captures her lips in a desperate kiss, pulling her closer so her thighs slide across his lap. He's aware of her skirt riding up and that her wet panties are in direct contact with his sweatpants.
He greedily bites her lip and holds her against him, arms tensing around her as her fingertips slide down his neck and around to the backs of his shoulders underneath his shirt. She starts to move herself over him, her hips swiveling in a circular motion that makes his jaw go slack.
His mind is just a mantra of "more, more, more" as he reacts to her ministrations. His hips buck up to meet hers over and over, silently wishing the layers of fabric between them weren't there. Her breath comes out sharply, and it's beginning to match his erratic breathing.
Maka lightly scratches up his back and tugs his shirt to hint at her request. He whines softly at the lack of contact as she pulls away from him to take it off, but grins at the opportunity to watch her do the same. He watches her with great interest as she brings her arms in front of her and pulls her (technically his) pajama shirt off in a criss-cross motion, doing a cute little wiggle as it comes off. It looks a lot more graceful and sexy than when he undresses, he thinks.
Maka shyly holds the shirt to her chest, not quite brave enough to discard it entirely. She won't let him see much, except a peak of skin below her belly button and the bra straps that stretch over her delicate shoulders. They're dotted with faint freckles and he vows to himself that he is going to count them one day. Not today, though. Especially not when she's looking at him like that. He's drawn out of his fantasy when he notices that her shy expression barely hides insecurities that he knows are partly his fault. He temporarily regains the ability to use his heavy tongue to form words.
"I'm sorry I made you feel like they aren't good enough. I was a stupid kid thinking it was okay to make fun of them for sake of my own insecurities."
"But you wish they were bigger," Maka responds, a lump in her throat.
"Not at all—Maka, I—" He restrains a chuckle. "I called attention to them because I liked them. Because… because I like you. They're perfect and cute and they're yours, so…" Soul smooths his hands over her sides, hoping he got his point across.
Judging from how she ducks her head to hide a smile and a blush, he thinks it worked. Her hands drop the shirt off to the side. He hums as she hugs him and kisses him on the nose, then on the mouth. It's endearing and soft and he basks in it for a moment before remembering that she's topless. His hands drift curiously across her skin, until his thumbs find the bottom of the cups of her bra.
Maka equally enjoys exploring his skin, tracing his shoulder blades, lower back, and scar. He jumps a little at the touch, inadvertently grinding up against her soaked center. They both let out unrestrained moans. He pants against her hard, moving down to kiss and lick at her throat and neck. His hands follow the band of her bra to the back where the clasps are. He tugs for a moment. He technically knows how to do this; he's googled it. But it still takes him a few frustrating seconds before the clasps finally come apart. He sighs and smiles against her throat, feeling victorious.
Maka giggles and helps him shimmy out of her bra before continuing to grind down onto his erection, eliciting more gasps and moans. Distracted by the removal of the garment, he adoringly cups her soft parts and plays with them experimentally. He squeezes, tugs, and pinches until he's figured out what combination she likes the most.
"Souuuul," She moans softly into his ear. Her hands drift lower now, grazing the top of his happy trail.
Soul is already struggling to keep himself in check, but when Maka touches him there, he just can't help it. She's been teasing him and driving him crazy and it finally brought him to his end. Soul stills, hands still glued to her boobs, and shuts his eyes hard at the sensation of being brought to the very brink. Maka moans once again into his ear and then it's over. It's too much too soon and it feels so good, her breath in his ear, having her willing body rubbing up against his like this, and then he's cumming in his pants, realizing much too late what is happening.
He gasps for air, flustered and relieved, but mostly ashamed that he'd let it happen so soon. Maka's eyes are lidded, barely processing. She felt him tense up and then he stopped moving completely. Her innocent forest eyes widen a little, looking at him questioningly. He can't look her in the eye.
"Maka. I am so sorry. It's. Uh. Oh this is so… I need to—"
"It's okay, Soul."
"No, it's really not. Ugh I can't believe I let it happen."
"Soul. Soul, listen. Look at me," She commands. His eyes meet hers. She's not mad. She's not grossed out. She's looking at him with awe.
"It's very ok… I mean, very… Flattering." She smiles. "Besides, we can still do other things…"
"Other things…" He repeats with a smirk.
"Yeah. You know, like… something different."
His smirk turns into a sharktoothed grin. He's more excited than a kid on Christmas.
"I like different."
---
After quickly cleaning up his mess and changing pants and underwear, Soul finds himself poking his head into Maka's room. She had retreated from the living room to her bedroom while waiting for him.
"Did you have anything particular in mind?" He tries to ask nonchalantly but it's easy to read the excitement on his face.
Maka's response is to pull Soul down onto the bed with her and start kissing him again. Bantering and beating around the bush was fun for foreplay but she is done waiting. She's waited long enough. Now it was her turn.
She kisses him deeply and he is enraptured by her tongue. She takes his hand, which had originally defaulted to her waist, and brought it lower down her body. He gets a thrill out of watching her use his hand on herself. He's her weapon and she can do with him whatever she pleases. And he is more than okay with having his hand between her soft thighs and under her skirt and wOaH where did her panties go?
Maka guides his hand to touch her opening, gathering some of her juices, before moving it up to feel her clit, then down again to her opening. She repeats this with his hand, letting him dip his fingers more and more into her each time. It's not long before Soul does it himself without her hand reassuring him and reminding him what to do. He feels a sense of pride and awe watching her react so openly to small movements of his fingers. Every sound she makes, every staggered breath, every gasp, and every moan that reaches his ears travel down his spine and straight to his groin. He starts to wonder if he's getting more out of this than her, but then his fingers graze a spot inside her and she lets out the most delicious moan, followed by a dazed expression. Wow. He has to try that again. He curls his finger against the same spot and she exhales with a whine. Maka is tone-deaf and yet Soul has not heard a lovelier song than her voice right now.
"Yesyesyes… right there please," she gasps as he does it again, and again.
Her eyes roll back and flutter closed, back arching, hips desperately moving closer to his hand. Soul licks his lips at the sight, discovering that he's drooling quite a bit. An idea crosses his mind, but he's uncertain if he should act on it. Hesitantly, he lowers his face down to her chest, kissing and licking her breasts. She practically howls with pleasure when he sucks on the underside of her left boob. That's gonna leave a hickey, no doubt.
He's still giving the molten place between her legs the attention she deserves as he kisses down her tummy. Now she's the one reduced to mush.
Her hands find his head, fingers intertwining with silver locks. He's not sure if that's a sign of encouragement or a hint to tell him to stop. He hesitates a moment, waiting for her to say something, but then she tugs a little more harshly and he decides to take it as encouragement. His mouth is interrupted by her skirt. He has a love-hate relationship with this particular skirt. This morning, when Maka was cleaning, bending over and dusting the living room, he loved it. Right now, though, he glares at it scornfully for being in the way. He gets over it quickly, lowering himself further, mouth reaching her inner thighs.
Maka removes her hands from his hair to sit up a little, leaning back on her elbows to get a better view of the crimson-eyed boy breathing promises onto her most intimate parts. He gazes at her center reverently.
His fingers come out, covered in her juices, and his throat goes dry. He looks at her face, asking a silent question. Maka nods her consent, first slowly, then a bit more forcefully when he still hesitates.
He pushes her soft, warm thighs apart to give himself more room. Maka feels a rush of heat travel to her lower regions. Her legs are trembling. Her heart beats four times before Soul gathers up the courage to close the distance between his mouth and heaven.
He lives up to his name, that's for sure. He's a little sloppy at first, but his eagerness to please her makes up for it. Maka's arms give out and she falls back on the bed, toes curling.
Her moans spur him on and he feels on top of the world with the way she's looking at him. He could swim forever in those green eyes. Her face is blushing pink in a way that reminds him of watercolors. The color spreads and continues down her chest. Her nipples are two cute, rosy peaks. A part of him feels guilty for looking, feels as if he's not supposed to see her like this, so uninhibited, so beautiful. He casts his eyes down for a second, only to have them drift back to her face. Her eyes are now closed, mouth open. Her hands clutch at the sheets on each side of her. She's panting, his name on her lips in a silent prayer. He responds by writing her name on her lower lips with his tongue. She doesn't seem to notice, but that's okay.
He licks and laps and brings his fingers back into play. When his fingers sink back in, he instinctively yearns for another part to replace it, but the thought is forgotten when she's gasping for air, clenching her thighs around his head and calling his name. He's pretty sure she's having an orgasm when she squeaks and moans in such a way that rivals his previous favorite by far. It's music to his ears.
When she's done squirming and nearly kicking him (yes, that was a close call), he carefully lifts his head. Her legs are still trembling slightly, but she looks so at peace. She sighs contentedly and Soul just about melts at the sight of her welcoming smile. He cuddles up next to her side and pulls the blankets over them.
She turns to him, pushes back his hair and kisses his forehead.