"Maka, you're such a lazy ass!"

Soul chuckled at the disembodied hand that randomly flipped him the bird from around the kitchen doorway. However, the pinkie wrapped around the mechanical pencil in its grasp made it just that much more comical.

"It's a meister-only exam, Soul. You're the one who had to have his annual underwear-washing ceremony on the night before the most important exam of the semester. When is your half of the test, anyway?

"Not until next month, when your dad gets back from the Asian branch of the academy. He's the designated proctor."

"Have you started studying?"

"I'll get to it, Maka. Keep your panties on." He grinned. "Or maybe not, since I'm folding them. Want me to wash the ones you're wearing?"

He was only half joking, but a few seconds later, a little yellow number came flying toward his face from around the corner. He let it hit him.

"Holy…these are soaked!"

"It's hot in here, doofus!"

Even though he couldn't see her face, he could literally feel the pink aura emanating from her cheeks in waves. The thought actually made him laugh out loud. Maka launched her book in his direction, but apparently the accuracy of the deadly CHOP only wanes with distance. It is most definitely a close-range attack, Soul delightedly discovered, as he was easily able to avoid the projectile by simply ducking slightly.

He chuckled again as he picked up the basket of folded laundry from the table. "Need to work on your aim, sweetie."


He quickly threw his own clean laundry on his bed to put away later. Maka's clothes, however, had to be folded properly and put away neatly; otherwise, his head would be hung out to dry in the morning. Or some other vital body part he most definitely preferred remain intact.

Socks and shirts, while admittedly cute (especially on his meister), were mostly boring. Skirts were fun to put away, but without an ass in them (again, preferably Maka's), there's wasn't much joy to be had. Ah, now we're talking. Probably the only reason that Soul could stand doing laundry in the first place. Taking a journey through Maka's underwear drawer, and actually having an excuse (and permission) to do so, would be every healthy man's secret fantasy. So many bunnies and kitties, and those red and black pieces that she bought just for him, while probably the most extreme contradiction to ever exist, pushed every single one of the scythe's buttons in the most glorious way possible.

While shoving things around to make room for the clean stuff, his fingers rubbed against something hard. And rubbery. And oh so very…long? The hell...

Soul knew what he'd discovered before even pulling it out, but actually seeing it in his grasp with that familiar shape and wacky purple color did absolutely nothing in halting his jaw's descent to the ground. It was…gargantuan. The only word he could think to describe it. The color was upsetting, to say the least. The thing was covered with exaggerated veins and studded ribbing for "her" pleasure. The little protrusion at the top was for?...oh yeah. At the "hilt" of this "sword" was a hard, raised square that held…yes…batteries. On the underside of the monstrosity was the appropriate title of "Punisher". Dear God, this thing had ten different settings!

A thousand and more questions went racing through Soul's head. Why was this in Maka's drawer? Why wasn't he aware of it? Was she unsatisfied in bed? Was she just faking those seemingly mind-blowing orgasms? Most importantly, why the hell was this in Maka's drawer?

His feet literally carried him Hermes-like in flight back to the family room. Maka had absolutely no time for a double take when something big and rubbery and PURPLE was shoved promptly in her face by a very frustrated and very confused scythe. When she finally realized both who and what were blocking her field of vision from the intriguing content of her textbook, it was far too late to simply ignore the hurt expression her weapon had on his face.


For reasons unknown to Maka, she did not react how she usually might. The sight of her boyfriend approaching her with the object in question would normally result in the latter individual either with a face full of fist or flying across the room with the resounding impact of a hardcover book to the cranium. Instead, she stared up at him blankly with a very un-Maka-like countenance, in part too astonished to do anything, and other parts without anything to say in the first place.

It was obvious he came to her seeking answers. That much was certain. However, this raised the extremely important question of how exactly to go about doing that. She faltered momentarily until her words found her.

"What were you doing going through my drawer in the first place, Soul?"

Hell NO was she turning this back on him! "I was putting away your laundry, Maka."

"You had to snoop to find it, right?"

This was going to sound extremely uncool. "You're my girlfriend! More than that, you're my partner! We're sleeping together! Am I not allowed to do that?"

She blushed. "You are…"

"Then what's the problem?"

"…it's just creepy, okay?"

"Try again."

He was answered with an extremely frustrated glare, possibly intended to make him flinch in recoil. To her chagrin, it did not have the intended effect. He stood above her poised defiantly, unwavering and unmoving, the purple menace still clutched tightly in his sweaty death grip of doom. The tips of his fingers turned white with the effort.

"Your soul feels guilty, not disgusted. You suck at hiding your feelings. Now spill it."

"What do you want me to say, Soul?"

"I want to know why you were hiding it from me."

"It's not a big deal."

"It is to me, damn it!" Did he just seriously stomp his foot when he said that?

"Why? Why is it so important?" She rose to her feet and launched herself in his face almost instantaneously. She couldn't hide the confused and hurt expression clouding her usually ridiculously-confident features, and that just made the whole situation many, many times worse.

"Because if I'm not pleasing you, I want to know about it, all right? You can do whatever the hell you want, but if I don't make you happy, then just say it to my face!"

Suddenly, Maka felt like the biggest idiot ever to draw first breath. Soul was worried about pleasing her? In what universe did that even remotely make sense? They'd been "together" for months, and she was still indescribably awkward in bed. She'd been the one to ball like a baby during their first time, and she still had trouble putting the condom on him without flipping it across the room like a lopsided rubber band. Why on earth would the presence of that confounded monstrosity among her personal effects cause him to reach that kind of farfetched conclusion? Didn't he know her better than that?

"It's not like…" God, those damned tears again. Why did she have to allow herself to act like such a girl?...

"Then what's it like? If it's not good anymore, then tell me. I want to know."

"Soul…" He had to distract himself from the cute way she tended to bite her bottom lip and blush whenever she became incredibly frazzled. Her hands began to wring themselves together in a frenzy of beautiful nervousness that was, frankly, somewhat of a relief after his outright unmanly display. Still, this was Maka he was dealing with. She was the worst person in the world to trust to be honest about her feelings. Especially when it came to anything of a sexual nature. Didn't she know she could come to him about anything?

Apparently not.

"…it was a joke, all right?"


She spoke so softly that he almost had to ask her to repeat the statement, had she not continued to explain of her own volition.

"I lost a bet to Black Star…it was stupid, but…my price was to walk into an adult boutique and buy this thing."

The blush deepened. "I was going to take it back later, but I…I was too embarrassed!"

The silence that fell over the room was almost as heavy as the guilt Soul felt at that admission. He had to be the biggest idiot on the face of the planet.

"We're okay? I don't displease you?"

She shook her head. It took all she had to introduce her eyes to his.

"Anything but."

To his surprise and amusement, she dove into the couch, flaming face buried in the pillows to hide herself from the reality of what she'd just confessed. Despite the absolute humiliation of his meister in that moment, Soul's ego was suddenly soaring. Higher than they'd ever reach taking flight on her Grigori wings.

"Do you still have the receipt?"

Maka's head nodded into the pillow. Soul beamed.

The sound of a loud vibration startled her into meeting his gaze. The thing had come alive in his hand, and his crimson orbs suddenly shone brightly with flames. Those fangs in that crooked grin had never looked sharper.

"Toss it."