Chapter Text
The 5th anniversary of the Kishin’s defeat was being celebrated all throughout Death City. A typically quiet and often uneventful city (apart from it temporarily gaining limbs but that was a one time thing), was robust with candy, liquor, foods, goods, and everything under the category “celebration”. There was not a spot in Death City that was vacant or devoid of decorative light. Streamers, lights, hollers and cheers pooled out of every window across the city. The streets were decorated with flower petals and accompanied by food stands as far as the eye could see. Not even the corners of the city were saved from this bombardment of customs.
DWMA itself had a grand makeover with rebellious teenagers spreading their cheer throughout the halls. The streets were tame when compared to the halls of the school, as it practically resembled an overly excited family member caking their house on Christmas Eve. It didn’t help that every year, they’d always host the biggest party. No liquor of course, in part of Death’s supervising eyes, but every DWMA student was there. Kid, Soul, Maka, Tsubaki, Liz, Patty, Blackstar, and Crona (eventually). It was more surprising to see Crona present as opposed to Kid, who managed to take some time off from his duties to come to the event.
They attended the crazy party until 12 am, in which Death promptly shut it down as he typically does every year. BlackStar states that it’s far too early for a school party to be closed, as he complained to the group for the umpteenth time. Kid retorts that his father wished for all the students to get home safely, which is the reason behind his actions. The two quickly get into an argument before Soul chimes in, and states that the party could continue on at his place. He felt Maka elbow him in the gut as punishment for making a decision without her input, as she lives there too. She wasn’t going to contradict him however, so that’s how everyone agreed to crash at Maka and Soul’s place. While the entirety of Death City was parading around, causing havoc and whatnot, the gang of teens decided to house themselves inside of their apartment.
Everyone passed out. It had been hours since the group arrived, and they partied until their fiery party spirits had vanquished. Darkness encompasses the rooms and everyone was snoozing soundly. Liz, Patty, Soul and Blackstar were all in the living room, the two sisters scattered about on the floor. The teenagers had chips, cans of soda, beer, a few socks littered over the elegant blue carpeting covering the living room. With the window half open, the hot Nevada air leaked through and laid out a chill atmosphere. The only ambient noise was the muffled sound of late night party drinkers still going strong outside, and the breathings of passed out teens. Blackstar had managed to slide halfway off the couch, with his leg dangling off dangerously close to Patty’s face. Patty had her body wrapped up Liz’s leg, like a koala hugging a tree. Liz was a snorer surprisingly, albeit a quiet snorer, and was in the greatest danger as she was directly below BlackStar. (If her friend does eventually fall off, then there’s gonna be a lot of curses exchanged.) Kid had been absent since 1, which left Tsubaki and Crona. They had been offered to sleep in Maka’s room after the celebration had gone wild. It was thanks to Blackstar and his little gift of booze that got the kids acting very rowdy after 2 am.
Soul got up from his position on the ground. He was leaning against the couch and woke up with an agonizing pain to the neck. He felt his entire body heavy with lead and obviously from all the drinking, he had to seriously use the bathroom in a matter of seconds before he felt his bladder was going to explode. Stretching his core, he let out a quiet groan as he wonky got off from his position, letting a can of Buzz Fright roll off from his stomach. He scratched his stomach and shakily used his hand to get up from his spot, staggering in place as he got his balance a few moments afterwards. The moon’s gentle illumination coasts along the bodies and outlines of the objects of the Albarn/Evans household. If it weren’t for the fact that he had a pulsing headache at the moment, he would’ve stated that there was nothing like spending a night with his closest friends that made everything feel so domestic.
Before getting too sappy, he waddled over to the bathroom and gently probed the door open. Being extremely careful, as to prevent the door knob from emitting it’s usual squeaky noise, he used his hand and shoulder. As soon as Soul stumbled in he quickly shimmied out of his plaid pj’s, letting them slide off just enough so he could stick out what was needed to. He positioned himself over the toilet bowl, paid half a mind’s attention to see if the lid was on, and let the waters pour down from the heavens. Almost instantly he let out a groan of relief: euphoria.
A noise was heard coming from the shower.
“MHJE—JEESUS FUCK!” Soul felt like his skin nearly jumped from his skeleton. He turned.
The shadows murmured an apology. A groggy, yet passive voice. A faint yawn from the darkness, and a few seconds of Soul’s eyes readjusting to the absence of light, and Crona was seen rubbing the tiredness from their eyes.
Soul glanced at them, then down at his protruding little buddy. A little flabbergasted and flustered, he stuffed it back inside his pants and sighed a bit. “‘Dunno why you’re hiding in here but, do you mind getting out for a second while I finish up here?”
“…o-oh right, sorry…” The teen then stood up shakily, their scrum figure straightening out, and it served as a reminder of their height difference. As the years had gone by, Soul actually managed to outgrow Maka. Crona was in a different league. They snagged first place of being the tallest in their group, managing to beat Liz and Tsubaki by a few centimeters. Seriously, where did they get their height from? Certainly not from their bitch of a mother.
The lanky teen stumbled out of the bathroom, albeit a bit ragged, transitioning perfectly to nearly face planting. Soul nearly reached out to catch them, then quickly remembered that he hadn’t washed his hand. He retracted his hands just as quickly as they were offered. Luckily Crona didn’t seem to pay much attention to the gesture, as they managed to save themselves with the door frame. They glanced at Soul and gave him a nervous chuckle, accompanied by a bashful smile and left the bathroom.They were about to close the door when Soul grabbed the opposite handle that Crona was touching. Crona looks back at him, curiosity riding on their face.
“Uh, keep it open. There’s ‘nough light from the moon that’ll keep my aim still.” Upon hearing this, Crona blinked once. Twice. Offered a blank face and a small thumbs up. They trekked to the living room area, out of sight. Soul let out a breath he wasn’t holding in. He shuffled his pj’s down once more and continued on with his business. He shuffled his feet a bit like he always does and let his body expel the rest of his waste.
He came back to the living room moments later, with Crona sitting near Blackstar and holding one of the many bottles of discarded liquor at the corner of the room. Crona’s eyes flickered down to his hands and judging from the very minute purse of their lips, Soul already knew what they were asking even if they weren’t gonna say it.
“Yeah, I did wash my hands. Don’t worry about it.”
Crona nodded and looked a little worried by the volume of Soul’s voice. He spoke so casually. Won't his lack of sympathy attract the life of their friends?
Soul responded without skipping a beat of their gaze. “Don’t worry, everyone’s pretty much passed out until later tomorrow. After all, the four of us drank until we passed out cuz Blackstar thought it was a good idea to start a competition.”
“I-I’m assuming you….”
“Ye, didn’t drink much compared to the sisters and the almighty god himself. I’m sure even Zeus would be impressed by his skills.” Soul laughed as he glanced down at his best friend, who’s drool was currently slivering down his face and onto the carpet floor. “‘nfortunately he was up against Patty and let me tell you, patty is a beast.”
Crona chuckled lightly at the comment. They raised their brow and had a quivering smirk. “She’s patty after all. Um…re-remember the carnival f-from a few months ago?”
“Oh you mean the one where Tsu and Liz had to get Kid away from the Cranium Shaker cuz supposedly he gets extremely sick from those, but then Maka took him on that ride instead cuz she didn’t know, and then she was covered in Kid’s vomit?” Soul snorted and then snickered quietly to himself. “Ah yeah, that was the best. Seeing Kid getting a maka chop was something I was never expecting to see in this lifetime.”
Crona gave a diminutive nod in response. “Y-yeah…seeing Maka angry at Kid was—upsetting….”
Soul shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Relax Crona, it’s somethin to laugh about now.”
Their face contorted to something of wanting to prove their point but understanding that Soul was right.
“…so what about it?”
“Huh?”
“You brought it up, right?” Talking to Crona was—….alright. Felt like he was constantly walking on eggshells sometimes. Seriously, how does Maka do it?
“O-oh, right.” They fiddled with the hem of their pj’s, if you could even call them that. It was just a white t-shirt with a ramen drawing on it but 95% of it was hidden behind a zip up black hoodie and some jack the skeleton pajamas. Soul gave them those pajamas and felt his ego inflate just a tad when they saw that they brought those over tonight. Anyways—“I’m…uh, I was with Patty and sh-she ate the—“
“Oh my god the quesadilla!” The two laughed quietly.
“S-so you remember?”
“How could I forget? She got a free t shirt from the food truck dude cuz he bet that she couldn’t down 3 large ass quesadillas.””
Crona cringed just a tad bit at Soul’s foul language, but they were friends. They’ve gotten almost used to it by now. Their smile still remained on their face.
Of course it quickly turned into surprise when Soul remained quiet for a second and then took the large bottle from Crona’s hand. And then took a swig from it. Soul spat out a bit from the bitter taste, saying something along the lines of “cheap alcohol” before continuing to down it.
“!”
Soul glanced over at them and raised a brow. “…what’s up?”
“I—Umm…”
“You wanna try some?”
They shook their head politely. “N-no thanks. Mak—…I—It’s bad for you.”
Soul frowned at their slip but looked off to the rest of the apartment. Their back was towards the window, so everything was perfectly lit with the outline of the moon’s glow. Despite the dark setting, Crona could see fractions of what was going on through Soul’s mind. They’ve studied their friends quite well. Their friends still don’t know just how much their eyes speak for themselves.
Something happened during that carnival day. They remember that the group had split up temporarily during the sunset: Soul and Maka walked off to a section of the boardwalk, Liz, Patty and Tsubaki tracked back to the carnival games because apparently one of the three had dropped their wallet, Kid was busy recovering from his vomit incident and was sitting at a bench. So, Blackstar and Crona were paired up and they decided to head on over to the beach to play some frisbee. Much to Crona’s surprise, Blackstar was pretty eager to play with them. They guessed it was because of the black blood living within them. It was multi functional, and using its strength would mean that the frisbee would go very very far. They knew this is the main reason why Blackstar loved to play ball based games with just the two of them. But as the duo were heading over to a store in the shopping area, they spotted Soul buying Maka cotton candy. The rowdier of the pair grinned, and convinced Crona for them to follow the two to see what they were up to. Well, more of Blackstar scheming and Crona desperately trying to reel their friend back to the stations where they can purchase a frisbee. But before they could escape the scene, Crona heard it. Blackstar and Crona heard it.
Soul’s confession to Maka.
Crona doesn’t want to recall Soul’s dejected face, Blackstar’s energetic aura dulling down to be next to nothing, the gnawing guilt of overhearing a very very private conversation, and weeks of awkwardness between the friend group. Whenever Crona would come by for a visit, it was always with either Maka or Soul. The three of them couldn’t hang out for a time without Crona feeling the tension in the air. Truly a horrible experience.
Crona casted their gaze over to Soul to testify if this was going on through his mind and, yes it was. Those eyes that were once filled with the flames of his passion were now dimmed with dull crimson, the slight crease of his brows and his body posture gave it away: he had one knee propped up but instead of letting one arm drape from his knee, he instead was hugging it. That is when Crona weighed their options, and decided that their friend needs them right now. Soul may or may not realize it but he is intoxicating himself to forget about it. And Crona won’t let him do such a thing. At least not to the degree where his liver would be destroyed. That would be bad. People need livers, and Soul needs to know that Crona is a friend that he can trust. This might be a step in the right direction. They’ve been working hard to gain his trust throughout the years, and to their credit it’s been steady progress.
They reached their resolve: they will keep him company until he feels better, and has temporarily forgotten about the confession. This means they have to help Soul in any way that won’t trap him in solitude.
“…m-may I have a sip?”
Soul’s eyes shot wide open and whipped his head around to stare at Crona. He expected a follow up statement from that.
“Umm…please?”
“…Holy shit Crona I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Umm…why would you assume so?”
Soul stayed quiet for a second, his surprised face slowly vanishing but his wide eyes of astonishment remained. It was quite a funny picture, really. While Soul mirrored Crona’s usual appearance, timid and flabbergasted, Crona took a more “Soul” approach and looked completely relaxed. Their arms draped themselves to hug both knees close to their chest. Soul responded after a few moments, “Well, typically you’re a pretty introverted guy. Plus when the liquor was brought out, you booked it to Maka’s room along with Tsu. Don’t think I didn’t see you.”
Crona offered a sheepish smile. “W-well, everyone else is still asleep, so th-there’s no issue with me trying some of it now, right?”
Crona did have a point, the scythe weapon thought to himself. Hell, this was probably the best time for them to finally take a step into teenager-hood. The group had been taking steps into ripping Crona away from their comfort zone and finally acting like one of them. But Soul could definitely see why they’d prefer to wait until they weren’t towered by everyone with the peer pressure to drink. Soul briefly thinks if the group were considered enablers.
Soul nodded without another thought. “Yeah, alright you got a point.“ He hazily shoved the bottle back to Crona before he scooted forward just a bit more to grab half a stack of fresh red cups that were discarded on the table. By the time he scooted back to reclining his back on the couch, he turned over and to his surprise, Crona was chugging that thing with his eyes screwed shut. Soul hastily reclaimed the bottle back. “The hell ya doing?”
“I-I was drinking it…?” Crona had a small pout and a diminutive look of apprehension behind their eyes.
“Not like that! You don’t drink it like that!” Soul furrowed his brows. Guess hanging out with his partner was rubbing off on him, cuz he just felt an overwhelming sensation of protectiveness overcome his being.
“Th-that’s how I saw Blackstar doing it earlier….”
“Well it’s cuz Blackstar ‘s knew what he was doing and yet still acted like a total dumbass. You haven’t had any experience with this kinda stuff, so ya shouldn’t go chugging it like water. You’ll get wasted pretty qui—“ Soul glanced down at the bottle, then looked back at Crona. “Oye, how many swings did you do?”
“O-oh, just one.”
“One? You sure?”
Crona nodded.
Soul narrowed his eyes at his friend before giving a light shrug, taking a red cup from the stack that he got from. He placed the remaining cups next to him before he turned back to Crona, gestured for the bottle, and poured himself a drink.
“Why are you pouring so little for yourself?”
“Crona, this thing is like 80 proof. There ain’t no way I’m filling it to the top. I’d literally die.”
Crona’s face faltered and paled a bit. “A-ah…so that’s why you told me n-not to drink so much…”
“Oye uh, you good?” Soul raised an eyebrow at them.
They audibly gulped and gave him a shaky smile. “O-of course! Yeah….!”
Soul hummed in disapproval but downed his semi two shots of alcohol. He somewhat guessed where two shots would be, but he thinks he accidentally poured a little bit past it. Nothing too bad though.
They stayed like that for a while: Soul balancing the bottle between his finger tips, Crona hugging their knees lazily, and the two of them just staring at their passed out companions and their shadowy outline. It was getting smaller as the minutes ticked by, signs that the night was slowly waning away and soon morning was to come. Minutes passed and it filled the empty lifeless room other than the two teens.
It was rare for the two of them to be this close to each other, even yet rarer for them to be comfortable with one another. Nothing surprising from it though: Crona did nearly kill him when they first met and since then, Crona’s had been keeping their space from the boy. They wanted him to not feel intimidated or uncomfortable by their presence, but up until maybe a few months ago did they actually address the issue. Soul had learned to forgive Crona, plus he gave them the benefit of the doubt that they were just a kid trained to kill just like the kids at DWMA. After lots of convincing from Maka, the two began to hang out just by themselves now. It was nothing compared to the rest of his friendships with his other companions, but it’s a start. A very, steady and slow sta—
“Do you love Maka, Soul?”
This question came from left field so fast that Soul felt the jab to the face. Soul slowly turned to face them and couldn’t even react properly to the question. He thinks he heard them wrong. “….wh—excuse me…?”
They turned to face him now. Their eyes were completely glazed over. The fury that had begun to eat away Soul from that aching question died instantly: this dude was starting to get wasted. “…I asked…if you love her….”
Soul snickered, shook his head, clenched his teeth and took a deep breath in. A painful deep breath. His face contorted to that of pain. “C'mon buddy, you need to rest up. I’ll let the question slide cuz one: I’m a cool man and two: if ya didn’t just down this bad boy like it was the last drop of water like a dumb butt, think you would’nt’ve asked that. That was not a cool question to ask.”
Crona lowered their head in shame, looking pretty bummed. “Sorry Soul….”
He shrugged, “Oye, don’t sweat it. Now c'mon, you gotta sleep. You brought your sleeping bag, right?”
Crona nodded with a slight jagged motion, pointing at the extended sleeping bag that Blackstar was using as a makeshift blanket.
The scythe only tsked in response. “…alright well I gotta blanket in my room. Two, actually. You can use one as a pillow and the other as a blanket and, you can sleep next to Liz on the floor.
You good with that?” He turned to stare at the friend, who had been trapped in their own daze. It took them a second to respond.
“…Y-Yes, I’m okay with it…” They looked out of it, and Soul had a gnawing feeling at the pit of his stomach when they woke up tomorrow. God knows that they’re gonna tell Maka about the “mysterious liquid” that they were given and Soul is gonna get Maka Chopped to next week. Shit.
Soul stood up carefully, uttering a faint “Good”, and used the couch as a guide to get himself up. It wasn’t a challenging task in of itself, but simultaneously being careful of not accidentally waking up anyone made the task 10x more difficult. Although recalling last night’s events, they should be blacked out until 10 am this morning. Soul hopes.
He trudged over to his room narrowly avoiding the limbs of the sisters thrown about on the floor. He nearly tumbled over Liz’s arm that had been blocking the path, and nearly stepped on Patty’s face. After the little obstacle course, He shouldered his door open and wandered in. Stepping and walking had suddenly felt a lot more exhausting than Soul had expected. How long had him and Crona just sat down for? 5 minutes? 15? 30? Long enough for the alcohol to kick in, that’s for sure.
Soul came over to his bed and scooped up a red checkered blanket. It’s one of Soul’s favorites, but he wouldn’t mind handing it to Crona for a day. In the process of turning and exiting his bedroom however, he nearly barreled into the aforementioned character. A shadowy presence hovered over the doorway, almost acting as a barricade between him and the door. The haunting cyan eyes that Crona sometimes emits were enough to make Soul’s hairs stand on end and nearly caused him to double over in a panic.
“Crona!!” He hoped he wasn’t loud enough to wake the others, but if his voice wasn’t then the sound of his elbow smashing against the doorframe most likely was. “...Christ dude you’re gonna give me a heart attack!”
They opted to ignore his stress ridden state and instead dragged themselves into his room, feet barely managing to leave as they were quite literally getting dragged. They half hazily flopped onto his mattress, maintaining their pencil stick position and ignoring any protests of leaving the room. The bed springs recoiled and groaned with the unfamiliar weight.
Soul’s eyebrow twitched. “Oye? I thought you were gonna stay in the living room…”
“Mph ohvr sphd thhs” Their words were completely muffled to the point that Soul was convinced that they were making vowel sounds with no strings or meaning behind them.
“Whatcha say?” He spat a little at the end.
They flopped their face to one side, enough for the corners of his lips to be exposed from being pressed against the cushion. “Yo…u… never said…anything about stayyinngg…..” their words began to slur together. The teen’s consciousness is slowly detaching itself.
The other teen, however, groaned and threw his head back, letting the blankets flop on the floor. Noticing his error, he perched down to pick them up. “Doesn’t mean you had to come in though.”
They shook their head in response. “‘S dark….”
Alright now Soul was getting a little ticked off. “Oye this is my room: My. rules. Go sleep in the living room. ‘Sides, aren’t you used to sleeping in the dark?”
“Lemme sleep here Soul…’sss scary….” They whimpered a little bit. Their eyes still glowed with that characteristic sky blue gaze.
Soul knew that Crona had quickly reached intoxication where they aren’t gonna act like their timid self anymore, and he didn’t know whether that was a positive or negative. Mostly negative if he had to bet on it.
Certainly would make things more cumbersome nonetheless.
“Ugh, fuc—fine.” Soul huffed and tossed the sheets on the floor, giving them a small kick to make them somewhat close but not too close to the bed. He doesn’t want to argue with someone who isn’t even all there. Besides, he needs to get some shut eye. When he came into the room he noted that he saw the number flour on his alarm clock and he hoped the time wasn’t anywhere near 4 am. “Then come down here, you’re not sleeping on my bed.”
The teen mutters something incomprehensible and beckons for Soul to come closer to the bed. Soul, restless and ticked off that his friend still hasn’t gotten off, shuffled over with a sharp frown. Again, Crona murmured something just out of reach from behind completely deciphered. Soul stomped one step closer and his face started to project the emotions of anger. “Oye the fuck you—“
In a second, the teen with the bold cyan eyes had taken Soul’s arm and dragged him down to lay next to them. Soul’s eyes bulged out for a second, and began to bark at his intoxicated friend. “What the hell—!”
“Do you love Maka, Soul?” Their piercing eyes reflected themselves against Soul’s. Blue clashing with red. Red stuttering against a defying Blue. Soul felt a familiar feeling. A tug. A nudge. The familiar feeling of rage from before seeking back its place in his mind.
Those blue eyes held so much determination behind them, it almost made Soul falter. “….Why the hell are ya asking that again?”
“Talk t’ her, Soul.”
The silence was deafening, and Soul felt his soul plummet to an unfathomable low. His unrequited love was often the source of many doubts, and he truly no longer wanted to be awake to feel them.
“Please,” He lowered his gaze, followed by a quiet plea. The alcohol is really getting to him now, “…get the fuck out. Now.”
The other teen leaned forward. “Why’re you a coward, Soul?”
Soul flinched at the words, striking the core of his insecurities. He can’t handle something like this right now. And who the hell is this Crona? He’s never met this version, and quite frankly he’s starting to wish that he never offered them a drink. Despite the taunting response, he gave no retort. Silence continued to pour into the void. Soul is starting to drown in it.
“Hhhhhey—”
“I heard you! It’s just—“ Soul held himself. Damn it, why does he have to be an emotional drunk? ‘Alright Soul keep it together,’ he thought. ‘You only drank like two shots so it shouldn’t send you over the edge. You’re just very rela—‘
“Vulnerable.” Soul shot his gaze up. A mistake as he saw Crona’s eyes: a mix between disapproval, discontent, and yet so calculated. Damn they really resemble their mother’s–
No Soul. Don’t think of such a thing.
“Youuurrree scared ‘f being vulnerabbblee, ri-right?” If it wasn’t for the fact that their straight up insulting Soul at this point, he’d commend them for their effort in maintaining a somewhat coherent conversation. Soul felt his hands tremble but to his surprise, he felt a pair of cool hands clasp over his own. Soul assumed it was because drunk Crona thought that he was about to cry, but in reality Soul was holding back to prevent himself from clocking Crona square in the nose. That would really make his partner upset.
He swallowed, jetting his gaze downwards again. “I-I am not, I just like to be precautious. I don’t want–...” He took a deep breath and scrunched his eyes shut, “...Maka to be uncomfortable with me.”
Soul couldn’t tell what Crona’s expression was to that statement, but he did note that the uninvited body shifted in place. “Ssssoo you’d rther hhhidee it th-then tell ‘r how yyoouu f-feel?”
He doesn’t want to maintain this conversation anymore. And he doesn’t want blood on his sheets.
“S-soul…?”
“Can you just fucking go…?” He’s never sounded this weak before. This desperation arose only from faint memories of his time with his family. Thanks to Crona he got reminded how timid his own voice can be. He’s hoping that this version of Crona at least has the decency of respecting a man’s wishes. He just wants to curl up and cry for a little while. Nothing major.
He just wants to shove Crona off his bed and descend into punching their mouth straight out of their face. Who are they to call him out on his affections? At least his best friends have the decency to look away whenever something regarding his feelings for his meister comes up. But not Crona, Soul has noticed. This wouldn’t be the first time that the two have spoken about Soul’s love, but it certainly was the first time Crona had been bold enough to directly call him a major puss. That bitch.
“Ssssoul, why d-do you wanna da-aate? Wuz point of datin?”
What the hell do they mean by that? Do they not understand the concept of love? “You know—! Hold hands! Go to movies! Enjoy each other’s company! Hug! Kiss! And the thing that I really wanna do is kiss her but there’s no way in hell—!”
“Just kiss me then.”
And then Soul’s world suddenly stood still.
‘W-what?….’ “T-The fuck???” Soul genuinely couldn’t believe his ears. Did they just—
“Mmyeaah…” They shrugged. “I haavnt dooonee it…nd knowin you, you prbably havn’t either..”
Wow okay.
“...No, no” Soul shook his head, “We ain’t doing this bullshit. Not funny. Crona, dude, chill and go back to the living room.”
They sighed as they lazily draped themselves over Soul’s body. Soul felt his heart rate skyrocket by the action. His anxiety had begun to thump against his slowed heart rate and claw his subconsciousness, but the effects of the alcohol had kicked in. His senses were dulled and the reasonable side of him drifted off temporarily, only to be replaced with something much more dangerous. This feeling, this ache, can only be described as a passionate yearn:
yearning for a relationship that will never occur.
Soul thought to himself about all the times he’s fantasized going on dates with his best friend, his partner, his meister. The two of them would exchange Valentine’s Day gifts, with him giving her a passionate love letter and she would give him a flustered maka chop to the head. They’d go on casual walks up and down Death City, stop by his favorite music store and show her the vinyls decorating the walls. To create something more than just a weapon and meister bond, he yearns for something more.
He looked at the draping body that was on top of him. This was not Maka, they were Crona. Accompanied with this thought, his heart ached and he felt a sigh escape from him. A depressing sigh. A knowing sigh after being hit with that knowing wave of null feelings. He’d much rather be Maka’s friend than forcing her into a relationship. He’d much rather sacrifice a little of himself in keeping quiet just to make his meister happy. It sucks, especially considering that he’s her partner and they spend nearly every moment of their day together. Soul feels these feelings eat away from the inside. He can feel the awkwardness post his love confession.
He wishes he could take it back.
Soul looks at Crona, studying his friend who is slowly crushing him with the little body weight that they had. It’s not more of the weight but more of the size. Crona’s tall, and god knows where they got their genes from.
The boy just needs a temporary escape, and the liquor is getting to his head. His teenage hormones are not doing him favors with him unintentionally envisioning his friend instead of Crona. He began to lean in. He was drowsy, dreary, and in need of a distraction.
Crona had no idea what the fuck was going on. They’ve checked out 20 minutes after they downed more than a single sip of the mysterious liquid they drank. So when they felt Soul starting to get uncomfortably close to their face, they dragged themselves away from their pal, off his body. They saw Soul jolt a bit in retaliation from the contact, although they couldn’t fully make out his expression due to the darkness that consumed the room. A nervous chuckle arouse from their friend.
“…Oye Crona, I think it’s best if ya head back to the living room…”
“Can…Can I…sleep on the floor..?.?” They whined, sitting on their feet.
“C-Cuz I like sleepin alone... Now go!” He points at the door, his face dusted with just a hint of red. Crona saw a hint of glistening tears shine at the corners of the man’s eyes, complied and carefully slid off, stumbling to get their footing before dragging their feet towards the door. Compared to the last few times of his protest, the uninvited friend had little to no reason to not follow his orders. Up until those crucial moments just seconds ago, they now felt like it was a necessary need for them to get out of the bedroom. They saw the heartbroken man in front of them, and they truly wished they didn’t speak out their soul. They truly wished they had more control of their body at the moment.
Only until softly shutting the door behind them, and meticulously beginning to tiptoe back to the vacant living room of snoring teens, did they forget to grab the blanket that was on Soul’s floor. They stopped. Their hand was still on the door handle. They could take a quick step back in, but was that the right choice?
They dragged themselves to the living room. No, it wouldn’t be right to see Soul again. After al—
Crona was confronted with a drooling Blackstar and a sleeping back covered in said drool.
…
Crona turned promptly and stepped back into Soul’s room.
When they walked in, it was certainly a sight to see: Soul had his hand wrapped around his dick and was in the middle of an intense fap session. Burning red eyes glared to the direction of Crona. Both of them stood there, doing absolutely nothing but just intensely staring at one another. Soul broke the silence with a cough, a clear of his throat, and simultaneously shoving his member back in his boxers.
“…for fucks sake, knock next time.” Soul was too tired of dealing with Crona’s shit for one night.
They nodded, too dumbfounded to come up with a response.
“…the fuck ya want?”
“….Blanket.”
“Ugh, right, that.” Soul rolled over and yanked the blanket from where Crona left it, tossing it to their direction. It landed square on their chest and they managed to catch it with little difficulty. Immaculate aim.
“Now can you please go the fuck away?”
The teenager could barely think for themselves anymore. If Ragnarok was still attached to their body, maybe he would’ve managed to steer Crona away from this already horribly awkward situation and back to the living room, forcing them to forget the sight that they saw already.
The alcohol had trashed their sense of direction, and sent them haywire on the inside.
Crona has had an interesting history regarding their attractions to both male and females. They’ve noticed this when they’ve hung out with their friends, often when they compliment a set of guys or girls. When Crona is hanging with the girls they often compliment how toned a guy is, his hair, or personality. Crona can understand where they’re coming from, and it often takes little to no effort for them to understand why their friends feel attracted. When they hang out with the boys, it’s a little different. Blackstar occasionally comments about specific body parts of women, and Soul more or less agrees with his taste. DTK is barely around as is but when he’s present, he often talks about the proportionality of a woman’s body, and that usually gets the other two guys excited. It doesn’t excite Crona to the same degree that the other two have, but there have been moments.
Introduced to female porn magazines by Blackstar, male porn magazines by Liz (secretly), often reflecting their own sexual desire and even contemplating about their gender, they are really all over to place. Maka helps however. She tells them that as long as they feel comfortable being with who they are, even if they haven’t found themselves yet, then that’s all they really ever need. Plus, their friends always have their back.
So when Crona saw his friend’s dick, they started to think of themselves. They began to think of the magazines that Liz had shared. They began to think about the videos they’ve occasionally watched out of curiosity. They reflected on how that specific search history reflected more actions with male on male than anything else.
They felt themselves tense up with the presence of their flowing blood and running thoughts. Normally this wouldn’t be abnormal, but Ragnarok wasn’t in their blood anymore, and the glaring note is that they weren’t in battle. They slid the blanket down to the base of their hips. Any coherent thought that the teen had thought up of had been overtaken by animalistic instincts and desires: a byproduct of being human. Their original mission was to acquire a blanket and successfully launch themselves into deep slumber until mid day. Now instead they are held hostage by their own body, own hormonal mind. Their body is begging them to step further into the room, to be bold, to experiment. If they yearn to understand themselves more, shouldn't the first step be following what your body wants?
Their body told them to be bold, and Crona didn’t have a say in this action.
They stepped into Soul’s room.
They sat down on Soul’s bed.
While Soul was whisper yelling for the umpteenth time that night and asking them what the fuck they were doing, Crona thanked the alcohol in their system giving them a drive that rivaled that of their late mother’s. They’ve always struggled with confidence while their mother beamed from it. Words were exchanged, eye contact was met. One with lust exchanges with one of yearn. Soul wanted nothing more than to have Maka in front of him right now instead of their friend. Crona wanted nothing more than to experiment.
So they lean in, and one of them pretends.
Soul knows he’s gonna feel like utter horseshit in the morning, he understands that by doing this he’s essentially snuffling out the little construction of a friendship that he and Crona had begun to grow. By doing this he’s going to be disgusted with himself in the morning.
…but having Crona’s lips against his felt—interesting.
His hand found his way to the back of Crona’s neck and tugged him closer, bringing the kiss to a new level of experience. The kiss grew fiercer with every passing second, Soul’s sharp teeth protruding the lips of a whimpering teen. He felt Crona’s hand hover dangerously close to the center of his legs, when they tried to balance themselves by using Soul’s leg. They grazed his area just like before, and he felt the hairs on his neck stand. Soul growled lowly. The pulsating rhythm from his dick drove him nuts, and he used his other hand, staggered to reach Crona’s hand, and pressed against it. He gave their hand a slow dry hump, earning a shiver from both of them for entirely different culmination of reasons. A common ground that both shared was this: they wanted more.
He groaned into their muffled lips, and love lust Crona decided that it was their favorite sound of the night. As they continued to stroke, grab, massage and caress his member without freeing it from its boxer prison, Soul’s pants only grew louder and louder. His companion wanted attention, and the most they could make do was their hand for the moment. They felt Soul grow in size underneath their palm, with Soul draping his head back against the wall of his bed. Soul lets his eyes drift shut, slowing himself to catch a breather. He was amazed by how delicate their friend was, almost having a feminine quality to their touch. He was envisioning Maka in Crona’s place, and this only increased his sex drive.
Crona had spent the first minute or two just slowly massaging Soul’s friend. Nothing serious, just the two lying on his bed, with Soul leaning against his bed frame and Crona lying close to his crotch. They felt themselves squirm at the thought of having something as alien and unfamiliar as a penis inside of them, but they tried to brush this idea off for the meantime. To get a better feel of it, they decided to take the next bold step: skin to skin contact. With little hesitation, they used both hands to slither down the band of their friend’s underwear, exposing his cock to the scandalous air that surrounded the room. Recalling the foreplay that they’ve watched before, they stuck with using their hand to continually rub, caress, and stroke their friend. Soul didn’t make many sounds. He mostly grunted and on occasion he sighs with whispers of relief.
Crona never understood the hunger behind sex until they felt their mouth salivate at the sight of Soul’s dick. Precum had already been leaking from the tip, and the musky raw scent of the boy had the other teen driven up a wall. They’re enjoying every second of this, from Soul’s minute expressions to the slight self torture of not relieving themselves in the process. So when Crona used their tongue to lick Soul’s tip, Crona discovered a new noise that their friend could make: a mix between a whine and a noise of surprise. He tried to be quiet but it genuinely took him by surprise. He rocked his bed due to the surprise
Another groan was made out, so Crona was taking this as a sign of affirmation to continue. They positioned themselves down to Soul’s member. A pair of unguided hands were replaced with a mouth engulfing him, shifting his lying position enough to not cause any discomfort towards themselves. They vaguely remember the blow jobs they’ve watched, so they tried their best to replicate the style. They bopped their head back and forth, tightened their lips occasionally, making sure to take all of Soul in, keeping a steady pace. From the rapidly growing pants of their friend, they’d say they’re successfully bringing their friend to the edge .
Moments ticked by, and sudden thrusts were there to meet Crona’s mouth whenever it would temporarily retreat back. In the midst of Crona nearly choking from shock, Soul’s hands gripped Crona’s hair and began to erratically shove himself deeper into their mouth. Soul whined like a dog in heat, his drool noticeably dripping from his lips. His erratic thrusts were short but quick, and Crona knew that his brink was close. Crona could not describe the feeling of getting fucked in the mouth, other than amazing. Crona absolutely knew that they were wet to the point where they knew they’d managed to stain their underwear.
One thrust, two large thrusts and finally short bursts of tiny thrusts came after along with a sound sounding more of a choked mewl. Crona wasn’t prepared for Soul to come into their mouth, much less with it literally jetting into the back of their esophagus. They began to choke and launched themselves away from Soul, still choking and coughing while trying to swallow down his cum.
Despite feeling like they got the inside of their mouth violated, they’ve never felt so turned on before.
And they quickly realized that they wanted so much more of this.