A/N: I know I kinda did this without warning, but I thought it was about damn time I redid this fic. I mean, I wrote this last year and when I re-read it I knew it HAD to be redone. Especially since I've been improving since last year. So, I hope you like this newly done version of Goodnight Kiss!
I realize that Maka's kinda OOC, please just bear with it.
Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater.
Ever since they had gone on the train for the next mission, she had locked herself in the train booth for hours now, probably reading the case files thoroughly. It frustrated him, how she paid so little attention to everything around her except for the task placed in front of her. Like how pissed he got when she sent the scythe boy outside so she can concentrate alone, and how he now had to stand right outside the door until she was finished, and how his legs ached like a bitch from bearing the weight of the upper half of his body for so long. But she still didn't listen. He never could understand his meister. "Can I come in now, Maka?" He begged from the outside, but to no avail.
There was not even a response from her, which was a cause for worry for the boy. He knocked on the door. Once. "Hello? Are you even alive in there?" Twice. "Hello?! C'mon, Maka! I've been waiting for hours, can't I at least sit down?" A third time, and still no response. He was not the patient type. Gathering his courage, he gripped the indent on the side of the door slid it open carefully and quietly. She was not the type who loved to be disturbed. He tip-toed into the room and slid the car door closed quickly to stop the influx of hallway light from infiltrating their room and possibly rousing her.
At first he was greeted by nothing but darkness. The only light source filtered faintly between the drawn curtains of the small sized window above the seat. It's source was from the moon, which hung high in the starry sky with a silky glow. His eyes scanned slowly across the room, searching for her body, camouflaged in the pitch-black room. Listening closely, he heard the ever so slight breathing of his sleeping partner sitting on the bench across the room. He let his stiffened shoulders loosen, relieved that she was asleep and not smashing his cranium in with a hardcover book for disrupting her.
He crept over to her, pulling the blinds up so more light could fill the room. There she sat, her shoulders slouched and head craned at a slight angle downwards on her left shoulder, sleeping peacefully and undisturbed. In her lap was the pile of papers that she was studying so hard. He took a step back to fully realize the situation she was in, but then a sudden and unexpected thought that had never crossed his mind dawned on him.
Maybe it was how radiant and untainted her face seemed to look as the moonlight reflected of her pale white skin. Or maybe it was how her cheeks were covered in a soft hue of light pink, making her blush involuntarily evident. Or possibly how she looked so peaceful in her slumber, almost graceful in her moment of calm, in comparison to the thundering storm that she is every single day on a regular basis. But there was one thought that he was sure of: his meister sure looked pretty in this light.
Pretty? He laughed. There was no way he would ever go for a flat-chested fat-ankled girl like her. He was a cool guy; cool guys deserve more, don't they? Maka was not cool at all. She was a try-hard nerd and bookworm who loved to do puzzles every Friday night rather than go out and drink and party with BlackStar. Cool guys deserved the best. And yet he stuck with her for every fight, and every moment since they became a duo. Of course, there were other girls. Other girls, who were more well endowed than his girl, and would readily treat him better than his girl, too. Thankfully, he was also not the jealous type. He would never leave her, even though he would masquerade around like he would rather be anywhere else but with her.
He also knew how, whenever there was a big party and she donned on her dress, she would secretly peer down at her chest to see if there was anything more, only to get silently flustered at her lack of "growth." He didn't mind her small and unnoticeable little freak-outs about her missing cleavage, because even if he hinted at it ever so slightly, he thought it was cute. In fact, she had been so worried about her chest that she had never noticed how deliciously curvy and slender her body had gotten in the Spartoi uniform, or how many boys would stop, wide-eyed and almost drooling, as she passed them in the hall. She had no idea what kind of hell she was putting her weapon through as everyday became an all-out war again him and every boy who dared to admire her structure when all he had in his arsenal were intimidating glares and growls.
He sighed and turned his attention back to his sleeping meister. With her head tilted at such an awkward angle, he feared that he might end up with a cranky partner in the morning with a crick in her neck. And that, quite frankly, would be the end of him. Her temper was the worst. The last thing he needed was his partner on bitch mode. But then again, it helped her become enviously strong; it helped her become independent and stubborn. Even though it was well known that his meister could take care of herself, he promised that no matter how strong she got or how independent she grew from him, he would always protect her. He was the weapon, so obviously it was a given.
Scooping her up against his chest, he carried her to the small sleeping bed on the side of the booth, where a pillow and sheets were set up for the night. Gently, he set her down, careful enough not to wake her. He took one of the folded blankets and unraveled it, settling it on her body and raised it over her chest. Maka stirred a little, and then settled. Soul let go of his held breath as she sighed and snuggled with the pillow on her head. A little smile formed at the edge of her mouth.
He wondered what his meister dreamt of. What made her so happy that she smiled? Probably getting a hundred on a test, he thought bitterly. Soul set himself down gently next to her on the edge of the bed, feeling the mattress sink as soon as he sat. He'd never been psychically close to his partner in terms of bodily closeness, especially when she was sleeping like that. But now...she was reduced to nothing in her quiet state. It almost made him relieved to see her so peaceful.
He allowed the quietness of the the room to linger in the air for a few more minutes while he sat on her bed. He didn't know why he chose to stay at her side for more than he needed too. His bed was waiting for him opposite hers. He tilted his head, listening to the steady rhythm of each inhale and exhale of her breath.
And then the impossible thought dawned on him.
A strange urge, a temptation, a slight shock that traveled throughout his body, an epiphany overcame him.
He swiveled his head towards the sleeping girl.
It had been known that Soul liked Maka, and not in the platonic type of relationship that everyone envisioned. It was true that he never admitted it outright, but it was evident that he would do anything to sacrifice himself for her. Overtime, she slowly began to grow on him until he eventually became fond of her. He was never the type to fall in love. He found himself not wanting to admit, not wanting to succumb to his own feelings. But now, he was in a room all alone with her while she was completely vulnerable. He came to a very quick conclusion.
He wanted to try her lips.
He'd always wondered what they felt like. He'd been partnered up with her for year now, and yet not once had they kissed or gotten the least bit intimate with each other. As his feelings for her grew, so did his frustration.
It was already too obvious that he had feelings for her. In fact, everyone knew. Liz, Patty, Kid, even that stupidly cocky BlackStar knew that Soul had a thing for her. Everyone except for her. He was glad to revel in the fact that his meister knew everything yet was ignorant towards him. He only chose to keep himself quiet because he knew that it was a huge embarrassment for a cool guy like him to admit that he was in love. He loved her, though he would gladly admit that she wasn't the best looking girl in Death City. He loved every aspect of her, from her personality that separated her from every normal girl out there, from her long luscious legs that beckoned him from that extremely short skirt of hers, from how her emerald eyes shined like the sun, and even to her laugh which he found extremely contagious and cute.
But first, he wanted to take it slow. Just to test the waters. He didn't relish in taking advantage of her while she slept. But now was his chance. She didn't have to know, did she? She would wake up in the morning and not realize anything. It would be the same as always. He bent down, face hovering over hers.
His lips landed with ease against the top of her forehead, right where her blonde bangs bordered.
He lifted his head, not sure what to feel. It didn't seem like much. It was a simple and brief kiss, nothing special. But there was that one spark of emotion rising in his chest.
Falling for your meister was uncool, wasn't it? His lips were sealed. And yet, here he was, tempted to do it again. But where? Certainly not her forehead again. Somewhere else, somewhere where he'd find more satisfaction to ease his growing urge.
He quickly gave the door window a glance, just to make sure. Maka still slept, undisturbed. Again. He found his face once again close to hers, closing in.
He delivered a small kiss to her cheek, allowing his lips to press against her soft, pale skin for a tad bit longer than last time.
He heard Maka sigh pleasantly in her sleep. He hoped it wasn't because of himself.
It felt no different. He was just kissing another part of her that didn't matter. Not like she'd feel it in her sleep anyways. He felt deflated after discovering that kissing her was not as exciting that he'd hoped it to be. He sighed, turning away to get back to his bed. But before he could rise up and wander away, he paused.
Her mouth, dumbass.
He cursed himself for the thought.
He'd been holding himself back before the thought could consume him. He wanted to kiss her on the lips, just to get the feeling of her lips against his own. He wanted her to kiss him back so badly. Just to see how she tasted, how it felt to kiss someone whom you liked. It was a feeling that had been gnawing at his existence ever since the day he started liking her.
Soul bit his lip, almost letting out a yelp from those sharp teeth digging into his skin. He knelt besides her and let out a small sigh. Make it fast.
Here went nothing.
It was a small and quick peck on the lower lip.
His meister tasted like stale coffee.
He stood up awkwardly, whirling around to go back to the door. But he paused. It was only a quick peck. He feared the worst. In that short time he realized how Maka's lips actually were actually softer than he expected them to be. He'd been expecting them to be rough, battle-hardened from all of the enemies they'd fought, or rough because of the tongue-lashing she gave him every time he'd do something wrong. But they were soft, smooth, kissable on every angle.
He realized that his meister's lips were sweeter than any sugar, smoother than any honey, and downright irresistible.
He wanted more.
He also wanted to rip his hair out at the thought of it.
His mind begged one last time. He shook his head, struggling against the urge. Nope, he wasn't going to do it. He took a step towards his bed. No, enough already. Go to sleep. He whipped his head around. Maka slept away, still
completely unaware. She didn't know anything. Alright, one more time.
He knelt down again, facing her again, face gravitating towards hers.
One more time, and that's it. Then he'd go to sleep and bury it deep into his subconscious mind, never to be found again. He leaned in to sneak the last kiss of the night. This time his kiss was different than the last one.
"Goodnight, Maka," he whispered as he snuck back into his bed.
Morning came as quick as the night went away. Maka's eyebrows twitched with irritation as sunlight invaded her eyes. Soul slid open her car door with two mugs occupying each hand. "Here's some fresh coffee." He handed her the mug.
She accepted it gratefully. Soul sat down on his bed on the other side of the room. Maka noticed he looked a bit tense, his eyes darting back and forth across the room at times. He didn't drink his share.
She raised the mug to her lips and sipped it slowly, but suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her lower lip and winced. "Oww!" she cried. She felt her lower lip and tasted a hint of blood. It seemed she had a cut on her lip. It was a scab now, but it had accidentally reopened up just now. That's funny. She didn't remember cutting her lip, at all. If she did, she would've remembered it. She bit down on her lip and sucked to stop the bleeding.
"What's wrong?" her weapon asked, concern showing in his eyes.
"I cut my lip somewhere. That's all."
He gulped. "Oh," he finished flatly.
She sighed and set the mug down on the floor next to her foot. Something had been bothering her ever since she woke up this morning. Something made her somewhat antsy. Last night she had the strangest dream. She didn't feel like talking about it to Soul, but she felt that it was so urgent that he had to hear about it. "Hey Soul, how'd I get into the bed? I remember I was reading on that bench over there."
Soul shook himself awake, seeing that he had been deep in thought and awkwardly quiet. "I carried you there," he said.
"Oh, thanks for that," she smiled softly. "Y'know, I had the weirdest dream."
"What?" he asked. For some reason that Maka couldn't place her finger on, Soul seemed to squirm around in his seat uncomfortably. It was odd, seeing that he was usually the type to laze around and not move. He almost looked nervous being there.
Maka decided to continue. "I had a dream last night that you kissed me."
Soul froze at her words, tensing. He was silent for a few moments before responding. "Don't be stupid, Maka, you know I'd never do that."
The blood from her lip wound had clotted and stopped bleeding. "But...it seemed to real," she said distantly, remembering her vivid dream from the night before. "You wanted to do it, too."
He chuckled. "As if," he scoffed.
She frowned. "You mean you don't want to kiss me?" she asked, slightly disappointed. "I've never kissed anyone before."
"Neither have I," he lied. "Why are you bringing this lame topic up again? Romance isn't cool, especially on missions."
"I know but..." She stood up abruptly. "...I want to know how it feels," she said in front of him. In her dream, the kiss had been so perfect that she could've sworn it was real. But now that she was awake, she couldn't resist the curiosity rising within her as if she wanted to make that dream come true. "In my dream, it was so realistic. Just once."
"Shut up, Maka! And sit down, go take a nap or something!" he dismissed her, although the temptation that he thought he had hidden was starting to resurface. Repercussions of last night still rung clear in his head. But here his meister was, his dream girl, the one with the perfect lips, asking for him to kiss him. It was like he was dreaming. What kind of dumbass would deny her now?
"I feel like I should at least know the feeling!" she retorted. "Just this once then? I mean, we've been parters for like three years now! C'mon Soul, listen to your meister! It's not like we can't do it!"
Soul couldn't hold back his guffaw. He let out a laugh so hard he had to clench his stomach.
Maka blushed feverishly. "What?!" she demanded.
"It's just that...I have already," he admitted.
She stepped back with a confused expression. "Maybe I've finally scrambled your brain with all those chops? No you haven't. You never have."
He bit his lip. "Eh...yeah I have. Last night. When you were asleep," he said plainly.
Her cheeks reddened furiously. "You kissed me while I was sleeping?!" She demanded, flustered.
He shrugged. "Well, you wouldn't care! Your lips were wide open! It ain't my fault!"
She clenched her fists, face still flaming with bright pink. He cringed, preparing himself in fear that he would receive another dent in his skull. But suddenly, she loosened her fists and took a deep and slow breath. Her blush faded slightly. "How...how did it feel?"
Soul opened his eyes cautiously. "What?"
"Was it nice? Did it feel good? Did you like it?" she demanded suddenly.
Soul grinned slightly. "It was like kissing a dead fish."
She slammed a fist into his shoulder. He yelped in pain, rubbing his sore arm after her punch. "Seriously?!" she glared.
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" he said. "Fine. I'll admit it. It was pretty...nice." 'Nice' was an understatement. They were the softest pair of lips, perky and perfect. But of course, he was too cool to say that aloud. "I'd do it again."
Her eyes softened a bit. She almost seemed confused at his statement. "Could you do it now then?"
"What? Kiss you now?" he asked, eyes darting to the other side of the room, everywhere but her face.
"Well yeah, that what you want, right?" he asked. "So do it now."
Her blush intensified again. "O-okay. I...I don't how to, though..."
"Let me show you then." He leaned down and let his lips fall upon her lips, allowing the groove to fall in with hers. He kissed her and then he lifted his head again. "Well?"
Maka seemed at a loss for a few moments, processing her own emotions. "It was...good. Do it again."
"Y-Yeah! That one was too quick!" she stammered. He sighed and leaned down again. But this time, Maka responded properly by kissing him back and pursed her lips against his.
They let go for a breath of air. "How was that?" he asked, his question seemingly awkward and out of nowhere.
Her blush settled deep into her cheeks. "That was good, too," she said quietly. They stood there in a brief pause of silence, the awkwardness of the situation could be felt rising between them. "Could we...do this more often?"
"Kiss more?" The words he'd been dreaming of hearing had finally been heard. He chuckled. "Always."
She smiled. The train jolted suddenly, knocking both of them down. Soul plopped onto the bed on his ass and Maka soon followed after. She landed on his lap, wrapping her arms around his shoulder to keep both of them upward. Only when the train had stopped jostling around had they realized their closeness. Maka looked up at him, startled. "How about now?" she asked timidly.
He nodded with a smirk. "Definitely."
And from that day on, he discovered his meister's lips tasted better than any soul he'd ever eaten in his entire lifetime.
A/N: Sooooo? Was it good? Was it bad? Was it better? Was it absolutely corny to the point of puking? I'd be very appreciative if you tell me.