This little slice of ridiculousness is brought to you by the Souleaterpromptarchive tumblr.
It started out with a wild goose chase. The birds were sleeping all around the junk pickup truck they had locally rented. The vehicle alone was so hideous and poorly maintained that she could tangibly feel Soul's coolness seep away in disgust, but the geese just made it worse.
Soul unhappily shoved his motorcycle's ignition key into his pocket. He should've been happy they found something else to drive, because his bike driving down the bumpy, unpaved roads would be a recipe for disaster. He wasn't.
Mostly because the rusty truck was older than the two of them combined. He was also probably unhappy because she shoved him to the passenger side and nominated herself to drive.
But before all of that, there were geese. Big, fat, violent geese were the aggressors of at least sixty percent of the goose-chasing before Maka and Soul could even get in the cab of the truck. Soul pulled feathers out of his unruly hair while Maka tried to remember Driver's Education classes. Geese honked at her while she honked back with the steering wheel.
"Why can't we just fly?"
"'Cause it's Kansas, Soul. If you wanna fly into a hail storm, or tornado, or lightning, or-"
"There aren't any clouds."
Maka happily ignored her weapon. The truck's transmission noisily clunked into drive.
Her partner wistfully stared after his parked bike as Maka drove down the bumpy road out of Podunk Town, whose actual name she couldn't recall, population two-fifty-seven. "What the hell kind of souls are out here for a pre-kishin to eat?" Soul complained.
Actually, the P-K looked rather well fed, which was surprising. Once a human female at some point in the past, it had turned into a very rotund, shimmering connoisseur of innocent souls. And smart. Too smart. With a habit of lighting explosives.
When an inch and a half of the end of her right pigtail was singed off from a close call, Maka admitted to herself that she had poorly judged this monster; maybe even go so far to say that she had imagined something a bit more stereotypical of this part of the country, which was a jerk move on her part, and not to mention irresponsible because her life and her partner's were on the line due to her error.
In any case, the pre-kishin was not some scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz, but a self-taught pyromaniac who had learned too many things about Shibusen and developed a taste for weapons , of all things. The P-K had been stealthily hunting the souls of unregistered weapons like a swine smelling out truffles. The victims had probably not even known about their powers- just little kids plucked out of their beds. Suddenly, the ranking of this three-star mission made sense.
It was clear that Soul was the first powerful weapon this P-K had ever seen. Its desire for his soul seemed to strengthen its resolve even after having a chunk of its body cleaved off.
It fought to separate Maka from her weapon and, after the aforementioned hair-singeing incident, succeeded.
"Maybe she was one of those people who likes living on the edge?" Maka called out to her partner, who was catching his breath and pressing his back against the side of the truck for cover.
He swatted stray corn stalks away from his face, irritated. "What?" he mouthed, confused and not wanting to give away his hiding spot, as if the one solid object in the middle of thirty acres of corn wasn't conspicuous enough.
Another explosion rattled the earth and Maka ducked as corn husks and debris rained down. "You know- people who eat blowfish and stuff. Stuff that could potentially kill them!"
"That's nice and everything, but I still don't wanna be EATEN."
"I can smell you, little knife~"
Soul spluttered, offended. "Knife!" He stood abruptly, turning to the pre-kishin, and snarled, "I'm a scythe , you shitface!"
So attuned were they that he could transform and arc across the distance to Maka even without having seen her extend her open palm to him. Some part of her wanted to note the irony of wielding a scythe in a field of corn, and another part of her wanted to argue that, no, scythes were traditionally used to harvest grain and hay, not corn, but both of these parts were swatted away by Soul in the back of her mind saying, "Shut the fuck up and dodge."
Maka dodged. Sliced. Parried. Stumbled once long enough for Soul to get licked by the monster.
"FUCK no!" Soul cringed in her hands as Maka retreated a few yards. He shifted partway out of his handle and disgustedly wiped slobber off his blade. "That is beyond gross."
She wondered if the farmer who owned these fields would be angry that there were craters where his crops used to be. Maka caught her breath a moment- the monster was missing another leg, so she had some time to get her heartrate down a bit. She coughed a little, clearing her throat of smoke.
"You good?" he asked.
"...So what's the plan?"
She liked that. They've been together so long that he wouldn't question her actions as much as he used to. If they're both quiet long enough, one could figure out what the other was thinking, anyway. Soul shifted fully into the scythe and Maka watched the pre-kishin lighting a fresh bundle of dynamite.
"Scoot up ehhh... fifteen feet," suggested his metallic voice. "Hurry."
Maka launched forward, left foot skidding into place and taking a swing with Soul as her bat to the explosive hurling at them. The hit was solid, but the overall effect was lackluster- the bomb exploding mid-air between them and the monster, knocking them all unbalanced.
Even so, as she was trying to gain back her equilibrium before the P-K does, Soul asked her if she had ever considered baseball instead of basketball, because she sucked a lot less at the former. Maka told him to shut up, taking them both into the air to hide in the still-clearing dust from the explosion. Hovering, her eyes watered from the smoke, but she kept one open at all times to watch for an opening.
Claws snapped at them from the murky clouds below, and Soul and Maka were caught up in a haphazard dance with these threats, their timing only just skilled enough to avoid major injury. They didn't need to speak, but one stray move would be the end of them. Finally, finally, the conditions were ripened enough to finish this stupid corn field battle, and Maka initiated resonance as they plummeted through the dust.
It was child's play after that. She felt Soul's intense satisfaction as he slid through the pre-kishin and carved it in two, his shining blade whistling through its flesh. She understood his fury, but knew it wasn't the same as being the weapon destroying a monster that had murdered those like himself. Monster in question screeched dismay and anguish as it unraveled into dark ribbons that fizzled like the fuses of its explosives.
Maka landed heavily to the ground, one knee into the warm, sizzling earth. Looking up, she was amazed to find their rental truck relatively unscathed apart from clods of dirt splattered on one side. Soul transformed into his body and helped her stand, the both of them turning to face what was left of the pre-kishin.
"Well that wasn't so bad," she sighed.
Something nagged at her about it all, though- that sizzling, crackling noise permeated the air and, upon closer inspection, wasn't coming from the ground as she had thought. As the smoke cleared from the destruction zone, she heard Soul's sudden intake of breath and felt her eyes sting, widening them and allowing more dirt to attack them.
At the base of the P-K's glowing, hovering soul were all the leftover explosives the monster had possessed, lit and hissing like a final 'fuck you'.
With the realization that the world was going to explode very soon, they both made a scramble to the rental truck, Soul swinging around the bed and Maka hurdling over the hood. They collided with each other on the other side, slid to the ground, and tried to both duck and shield the other, entangling their arms clumsily while Soul chanted a string of curses. Bodies tensed, they waited.
The explosion was only just.
Shboof crackle crackle
After an awkward moment of silence, she could nearly hear Soul blink. "Are you shitting me," he mumbled, face pressed against her shoulder. "I know if I look it's just gonna explode for real."
Maka lifted her head slightly, listening for a sizzling noise but hearing none. "We'll both look."
Slowly they unwound from each other and crouched beneath the driver's side window, cautiously peering over the edge. A thin stream of smoke was already dissipating from the now empty area. The air smelled of old fireworks.
Maka busted up laughing while Soul slid down the passenger door back to the ground, scoffing. "That was stupid," he cried out, thumping his head on the metal door. Maka turned her back to the truck and slowly let herself down to the earth, legs shaky.
She slapped her dirty, gloved hands to her face and tiredly giggled. "I thought we were gonna die!"
Soul's voice reflected off the truck. "Shit, I did too." Just as she parted her fingers for her eyes to glance through, he leaned back to look at her, his shoulders still rising and falling with labored breathing.
"Was that before or after you thought it was gonna eat you?"
A pained, disgusted look crossed his face. "Yes," he simply said. She watched his eyes be drawn to her singed pigtail, or whatever was left of it. Soul's hand came up to toy with the end of it, wrist gently resting on her shoulder. "What happened here," he managed through a chuckle.
Maka snorted and shrugged, hands falling into her lap, high on the relief that they were still somehow alive for another day. "Maybe you can give me a haircut later, Little Knife."
"Nnrg," he half-heartedly growled, giving her a glare made weak by his lopsided grin. It was right around this moment, this degree of eye-contact, that something passed between them heavy enough to cast them both into silence. That was their talent: stay quiet long enough and they could figure each other out.
It didn't take more than half a minute before both of them were blushing without having said anything at all.
With a small smile on her face, Maka lightly pinned her partner's hand, still idly touching the ends of her hair, between her shoulder and cheek. Soul breathed a moment, slid free, and slowly caressed her neck with the backs of his fingers. His thumb grazed her chin tenderly but he didn't need to bother. She already knew- they both already knew what they were doing.
They were alive in a smoking, obliterated corn field in the middle of nowhere, and when Maka leaned forward into her partner's lips, he did not back away in surprise.
It was just a lingering peck. After, her forehead rested against his while her arms brought him into a tight embrace. Soul shifted his weight and scooted closer, one hand still light on her jawline. His fingers played with the small hairs on the back of her neck as he kissed her lightly in return. They traded this single kiss back and forth, then two, then more, like little statements that assured them both that each was glad the other was safe, each wanted to feel, to share the breath of the other.
He tasted kind of like burned toast but she can't imagine she tasted much better. It didn't matter. Their tongues met and he made the slightest moan in her mouth, and together these actions caused her to throw her weight into him until they rolled to one side, she straddling one of his legs, and he grasping her waist and pulling her closer. Soul's head slid against the truck door, drooping to one side as Maka kissed down his sweating neck. His hands wandered up her sides and down her spine, caressing across her skirt and the outsides of her thighs. She felt his thumbs hook into the edges of her stockings.
Maka pressed her body close, wanting to feel his lungs take in air and heart pound with rushing life. They had to be closer, their skin needed to be connected, their lips needed to be linked, and so the next kiss was rougher than the last. He ran his tongue along the inside of her upper lip and she caught this in her mouth and kissed that too.
His hips flexed up into her, straining hard-on flush against her thigh. She broke their kiss to watch his body react to her, dragging her leg against his crotch. He let out a ragged scoff and moved his own thigh trapped between her legs. It felt startlingly good, and she reared back to grind against him to find more of that satisfaction. This worked for about half a second before they both decided she should straddle him properly, Soul hooking a hand under her leg and spreading her to rest it around the outside of his.
Their heady grinding was an improvement, though Maka was too elevated to continue kissing her weapon. Soul took the opportunity to hungrily devour her exposed neck, instead. His tongue and lips tickled her sensitive skin and she worried she smelled like sweat and farmland and explosives, but his teeth sank into her flesh and she couldn't bring herself to care any longer about what she may smell like.
She wanted to touch him like he was doing, but she was forced to brace herself against the pickup truck to meet his hips angling into hers. Soul's warm palms slid under her charred shirt and caressed up her torso to briefly squeeze her breasts. Maka shivered, despite the sun beating down on her back.
"Could we get rid of this," he panted into her collarbones, never ceasing his movements under her.
Maka rasped out what might have been a 'yeah' and decided it was much too warm outside to be wearing so many clothes. She leaned back, loosening her tie, and gave Soul room to lift her uniform blouse up by the hem. The collar popped over her ears and messy hair, and her shirt was carelessly flung away to catch and hang off the side mirror of the truck. A faint breeze did little to evaporate the sweat on her skin, but goosebumps still rose as she watched her weapon's eyes travel her body.
Their gazes caught again and, after a moment's pause, her bra came off too. Soul's grinding stopped completely, paused, while his hands were sent to explore newer territory. She watched as he unknowingly placed the tip of his tongue to the corner of his mouth, his eyes intently trying to take in both her breasts at once but ultimately unable to. The pad of one thumb stroked the edge of her nipple for half a breath before his lips were on it instead.
Her moan surprised her, but not as much as his mouth on her flesh. One of her hands moved away from the truck to press the back of his head more firmly into her chest. Almost unconsciously, her hips began to move again, swiveling in Soul's lap and dragging a growl from him. His hands relocated from her sides to her ass, squeezing her firmly and directing her movements over him.
After some frustrated groans and pleasured sighs, he pulled his mouth away and rested his head on the door behind him. "Mine too?" he asked, a hand reaching to un-tuck his now messy, rumpled shirt from his pants.
"But your tie," she breathed out, laughing lightly at his eagerness.
"And that," Soul amended with a crooked grin, undoing the knot in his tie while she inched his shirt up to freedom. Soul jerked and jumped beneath her when her fingers made contact with his bared waistline. Maka noted this reaction with interest, but it occurred to her that she still had her gloves on. Quickly, she pulled her hand out of his shirt and, while he slid off his tie and began to work on his shirt buttons, she brought her hand to her mouth and pinched off each finger of her glove with her teeth, tugging her hand free to discard the worn leather.
Soul's hands were stalled at his third button. "That was hot," he murmured, tilting his head slightly to see her better through his hair.
Her shoulders hunched up just the slightest. "What? Why?" she asked, slithering her bare fingers under his clothes and committing the feel of his sweat-slicked abs to permanent memory.
He panted, hesitating, while his hands slowly restarted their task. "It, haah... it just is, trust me."
She was forced to blush at his attention, but was more intent on coercing more of those distracted noises from him with her palm. As she reached under his working hands, she looked to his face to gauge his reaction just quickly enough to watch his features contort into displeasure.
"Wah, wait, what," he hissed, and she froze, wondering what had gone wrong. Soul pulled in his stomach to shy away from her touch, which caused her to feel something at her fingertips.
"Oh! There's a-"
"S-stop that, haha!"
Maka tried not to laugh at her partner pretending to not be tickled as she pulled a feather out of his half-undone shirt. She spins the goose down between thumb and forefinger, choking on her giggling.
"The fuck. ...No wonder that was itching the whole damn time." Soul grumbled, shrugging out of his shirt and leaning back on the truck with a sigh.
"My poor, tortured weapon," Maka grinned, flicking the feather away and leaning closer to press their naked chests together. She was still chuckling when she said, "I'm sorry you got goosed."
"Pfft." Soul slowly nuzzled her throat, hands playing at the base of her arched spine. "That is not what 'goosed' is." She felt his smile curving into her neck. "I'll live."
Maka rubbed their warm bodies together, burying the side of her face into his messy hair. "I like it when you're alive."
He placed his hands on her shoulder blades and pressed her closer, as if he couldn't get enough of her skin in his mouth. Maka quietly whimpered, listening to Soul was surely sucking hard enough to leave a mark. He kissed the tender spot when he finished. "Me too," he belatedly replied, hips tilting up like a reminder. His lips searched for her ear and gently mouthed the lobe. Voice gravelly, he whispered, "Why haven't we done this before, again?"
"I don't know," she moaned, frustrated with how much contact they shared but still feeling unsatisfied. "It wasn't quiet enough."
His tongue paused along the curve of her ear. "Wha?"
Maka idly ran her hand along the back of his toned shoulders. "You know, if we sit still for awhile, we can figure each other out."
Soul leaned his head back further to look at her, bemused. "If we're quiet," he flatly questioned.
She smiled a little, heart thumping faster from seeing him gaze at her while so close to her naked breasts. She brushed a bit of his damp fringe off his forehead, nodding.
Maybe it was the lack of distractions out in obliterated farmland, but the briefest of eye contact had the matter settled. It wasn't telepathy- just keen observation of the body language of a person one has shared one's soul with, and by biting her bottom lip and seeing his glinting eyes wander her face, Maka could confidently say that they had both wanted what was coming for awhile. It only took her shifting her weight, knees uncomfortable on the ground, for Soul to act.
"Alright then," he said with his patented grin, answering a wordless plan and urging her out of his lap. They both stood and stumbled around, kissing and touching and blundering about for balance until Soul pulled away long enough to open the truck door. The rusty thing squeaked loudly, and he shot her a look that questioned her judgement on having picked such a lousy vehicle. His teasing didn't even register for her, though. The sun glinting off his shoulders and playing along his scar was enough to distract her. He held out a gentlemanly arm- at odds with the rakish tilt of his lips- indicating she get in the cab.
Maka didn't exactly get it, but her own shoulders were going to get sunburned if she stayed out topless much longer. She somewhat relished his eyes on her skin as she began to climb in behind the steering wheel.
"Ah," Soul interrupted. "Here. Face me."
Things made more sense as she swiveled around. Her legs dangled off the old bench seat and out the open door, parting her knees just the slightest as invitation. Her partner's familiar hands edged up her stockings and underneath her skirt. His fingers lightly snapped the elastic of her underwear.
The seat creaked under her hands as she lifted her hips. Soul eased down her panties, taking them across her thighs and down her shins and abruptly halting at her boots.
"Oops," she teased.
He leaned close to her mouth, growling as one hand grudgingly pulled off a boot. "Trying to be cool here, d'ya mind?" Maka pecked him on the lips and he huffed, ducking his head to hide a grin under his hair. Her other boot thumped to the ground, and her underwear finally removed.
It was warm outside, but it was warmer between her legs. She pinked at how much of a breeze could be felt due to her arousal. She parted her her knees further and dragged Soul forward, partially embarrassed, but mostly desiring physical contact again. Her legs wrapped around his hips, and she discovered they were at a perfect height, if only his pants were off.
He was kissing her again, lips and tongue and teeth tirelessly diverting her attention, but Maka did eventually find his belt buckle. He grunted, relieved, when his fly was undone as well and her hand gripped his erection through his boxers. Soul leaned away, fingers hooked on the truck's roof, and watched her alternately fondle him and shimmy his pants down his hips. He leaned to one side, toeing off a shoe and then the other, stopping halfway through to groan her name when she trailed her tongue up his chest.
As soon as his shoes were off, he looked torn between wanting to fully take off his pants and letting her continue massaging his dick. Reluctantly, he backed away from her reach long enough to hurriedly take off the rest of his clothes, stepping out of them and yanking off his socks. This was the moment they both realized she was seeing his penis for the first time, and he passed the awkwardness by hanging his pants off the side of the truck's bed, while she averted her gaze to her thigh-highs to contemplate if she should take them off too, but mostly to keep herself from staring too openly at his crotch. It didn't save her- the sight of him made her insides heat with a thirst that caused her to shift anxiously, thighs itching to close and grind together.
Standing in front of her once more, her partner lightly picked up her still-gloved left hand and brought it near his face. The action forced her to lift her eyes, which had probably been his plan all along. He locked her gaze, unable to fully keep the smirk off his face while he imitated her glove-removal trick, smugly catching each fingertip between his teeth and tugging.
She couldn't keep a straight face, nervousness abated, after he waggled his eyebrows, glove dangling from his absurd smile. "Give me that," she scoffed, blushing, and took the glove from him with her opposite hand, tossing it on the dashboard.
The hand he still grasped was then pressed to his chest. Maka's eyes were still caught by his as she felt his heated skin slide under her fingers. She watches as his gaze slowly hooded and darkened the lower he dragged her hand down his body, his mouth opening in a small sigh when her palm touched his fervent flesh for the first time.
He nudged forward with his body and her knees parted easily, giving way even wider to accommodate him. The warmth of the tip of him pressed against her wet folds and they both quaked, his hand holding hers in place to feel where they met. Soul's forehead came to rest on her shoulder, breath feathering down her collarbones. This was closer- they were almost connected enough to be satisfied.
Her breath caught when he angled forward, his length sliding up, caught between her slit and fingers. He moved again, teasing her with his dick. Eventually, he guided his hand away, and she took this to mean she had control over the situation. Amazed at how slick the both of them had become, and so quickly, little mewls slipped from Maka's lips with every pass, Soul's breathing harsh against her neck. With both hands free, he clung to her thighs, holding her in place.
She called out his name restlessly, and with another quiet agreement, he tilted her hips and let the smooth head of his cock drag across her entrance, catching for a moment before sliding away. Steadily, he continued this, prodding her gently and passing by as before. Her blood nearly ignited with how fiercely she craved for him to get inside, but being denied.
"Maka," he murmured against her neck, and with the next stroke she eagerly used her fingers to keep him at her center, guiding him. He hissed his way in, teeth latched to her skin.
Her arms snaked around his torso, fingers locked behind his neck as she gave a long, low whine from the sensation of her weapon's body entering hers. The tension building in her skyrocketed, Maka's body writhing of its own accord. Her hips gyrated, trying to inch him further inside.
Soul's chest rumbled with his wordless groans, his arms hoisting her legs higher to delve more deeply. She curved her back, looking between them just long enough to see the root of him buried between her thighs, before she loosened her grip on his neck and fell back on the creaking bench seat. Satisfaction filled her, knowing they were melded together. She cried encouragements as he began to thrust into her, the bench complaining with his efforts.
Soul loudly sucked air between his teeth, threading his arms under her knees and leaning forward, cock driving solidly into her. Maka clawed the edge of the seat to keep from being pushed to the other side of the cab, using the leverage to match his hungry rhythm. Together they rocked, sweat beading off his brow and moans tearing from her throat, the old truck's suspension pitching and reeling with their bodies.
The air in the truck was sweltering, her back was sticking to the seat, and her skirt was uncomfortably twisted around her waist. He seemed to sense her discomfort, or maybe shared it for his own reasons, because he strained down to sloppily peck the side of her mouth and disentangled from her, his thrusting only a slow, languid form of procrastination.
She tried to catch her breath but lost it again when he glided back inside her. She didn't ask what was wrong, though her worried face must have said it loudly enough. Soul only shook his head, one arm reaching along the floorboard and pulling something that clunks heavily. Maka squeaked when the whole seat moved to her left, her legs clamping around Soul's waist as the bench moved backwards. He looked kind of sheepish, trying not to laugh at her surprise.
"Make some room for me?" he asked, one hand disappearing behind him to lightly grasp her ankle and lift it away.
They resituated, Soul shutting the driver's side door and beckoning for her to sit in his lap. "Like before," he explained. The truck swayed as she crawled across the bench to him, weaving in front of the steering wheel and finding a place to rest her knees, which was hard to do with her weapon fondling her and taking sudden mouthfuls of sensitive flesh at random.
He helpfully held his cock upright for her to ease down on, whispering how good she felt on the inside. She couldn't raise herself very far without hitting her head on the roof, so she rocked into him, forward and back, feeling his dick move within her body.
They took advantage of their closeness, lips savoring each other and mouths swallowing moaned names. The truck began its swaying again, this time in a new direction from the bucking of her hips. Maka was spurred by desire beyond her control, wanting only Soul- his body, his skin, his breath, sweat, heat, and the pleasure that they shared- and rejecting everything else.
"Maka... Maka, I'm not- I don't have a- Maka, I'm gonna come -"
She knew. She couldn't form words at the moment, so he'd just have to trust her that it's fine. She grabbed his hands and placed them on her hips, his fingers immediately twisting in her skirt. Maka bucked harder, lacing her own hands through his damp hair and tugging his mouth to hers.
He let out a long groan along her lips, his palms grasping the flesh of her ass and moving her faster against him, jerking his hips into her with what little room he had. The force of him caused her to gasp and pull away from his kiss, hands seeking support. She had to brace herself, one hand on the door and the other on his tensed forearm, hips shuddering uncontrollably. Her blood finally ignited, sparks catching fire to her nerves.
Her ears were ringing, echoes of euphoria still bouncing within the confines of the cab. Soul was slowing down, arms moving to squeeze around her waist as he was overcome by his own orgasm. He came with her crushed to his chest, their skin slipping with sweat. Warmth flooded into her, and Maka could only mindlessly mirror her partner's moans, body quivering.
After a minute or so of heavy breathing, Soul's panting humid against her face, he sighed out, "God it's hot in here." He reached to the driver's door and attempted to crank the rusted, tarnished lever to roll down the window. The mechanism made a crunching, uncooperative noise, to which he cussed and opened the door instead, pushing it out with a foot and a grunt. The slight breeze from outside helped air out the cab, the peaceful sounds of leafy corn stalks rustling together the only noise apart from their still-labored breathing.
Slumped against each other, Maka felt her partner tense beneath her, his body still encased in hers. "Maka," he slowly started, "I'm sure it's kinda redundant, but I definitely came inside."
She gently patted him on the arm. "We don't have to think up any names- I'm on the pill."
"OH. Oh. ...What? Since when?"
"Since, I don't know, at least the past two years," her mind trailed off, trying to remember the exact date while Soul slumped into the truck seat in relief.
"Well good, 'cause that... was a lot of come."
"It's too bad, though, I really thought 'Wesley' would be a good name for a baby, and-"
"Oh HELL no!"
She laughed at his abject horror, leaning back on the steering wheel and accidentally honking the horn. Soul then laughed at her own terror.
Maka couldn't stop sneaking sideways glances over at him never having seen her partner drive anything other than a motorcycle before. Also there was something about her toned weapon wrestling with the truck's distinct lack of power steering while shirtless.
"How the hell were you driving this damn thing?" he complained, turning on to the first paved road in two hours of travel.
"Is it too hard," she replied lightly. "I can take over if you want."
Soul scoffed and didn't bother responding, but in the quiet, they both knew what he was thinking. His mild annoyance with her big grin spread down his neck in a flush. Eventually, he finally threatened, "I'll take that shirt back, you know."
She already saw through his weak bluff, but her hand came up protectively over the buttons of his shirt she wore in lieu of her own- which had been sacrificed to the after-sex cleanup gods. "I wouldn't need it if you hadn't come so much," she said, face reddening but proudly getting the retort out.
He opened his mouth to defend himself, but his blush only travelled farther down his shoulders in his silence. He appeared to finally think up something, looking at her briefly to deliver his delayed comeback, and that was the moment Soul ran over a goose.
"OH MY GOD, SOUL!"
He continued to drive in a stunned silence for a few seconds, then chuckled. "I'm starting to like this truck."