SoMa: A Collection Of Oneshots

Singing

You don't even know how much the song First Flight Home reminds me of SoMa.

So I have this headcanon that Soul hates his job as a death scythe and Maka hates it just as much and they're both way too excited when Soul gets to come home and they start singing that song to each other in the doorway because they're the cutest dorks ever and I.

Song link on the side.

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Soul rushed a hand through his bed head spikes, thoroughly done with airports in general. He'd been pulled aside for the third time this night for his "disturbing appearance", people are stupid and slow, and he just wanted to see Maka.

He sighed, remembering his skype conversation with her last night. She was just as disgruntled as he was, though she admitted to what he denied with red cheeks. He'd dreamed about that cute little laugh and the smile that followed, the glint in her oh-so-focused eyes as she timidly tapped out a tune on the piano she'd bought him last christmas. He missed her too much to wake up and have to take cold showers; he just wanted to hug her and kiss her and cuddle with her and love her in person. Being perverted came afterwards.

He nodded to the lady checking passes in the terminal and she waved him on. He needed to be at gate 19, all the way at the other end of the damn airport. His bag bounced as he ran from one end to the other. Once he was there he collapsed into a chair, a nervous ball of anxiety and ecstatic energy. He knew this plane would get him home by the morning, just as Maka's eyes would open. He licked his lips imagining the breakfast - no matter what Maka always had buttered toast and four pieces of bacon with a glass of orange juice. After all the extravagant food he'd eaten, food like that would be amazing (especially if it was made by Maka).

"First class please." A lady in a navy blue uniform called, looking frazzled. She tucked a strand of carefully curled hair behind her ear as he approached, a sly smile stretching her face. Soul internally sighed. Yet another DWMA student grown up lame. Simone Harlet, guilty of trying waaay too hard to get Maka to give Soul up. Grew up to be a sleazy looking woman wearing an ugly uniform and working the worst shifts at a local airport in Oceania. He bared his teeth at her, and her smile faltered.

"Can I get on now?" He asked, annoyance shooting through him. She stuttered something, extending the stub on two trembling fingers. He snatched it up and continued onto the flight. A blonde attendant showed him to his seat, lingering moments longer than necessary. He shooed her away and clicked the seatbelt into place, eyes closed and headphones blaring as he sunk into the seat. He scored good this time, meaning that he'd get to Death City faster than some average plane. This was one of the few times he thanked death that his parents never changed their pin number. And that they didn't pay attention to the money dwindling from their account. It was always replaced by two millions worth of money from their sales and concerts and parties and blacmail. It was always as if Soul had taken a penny from a pile of cash; it made no difference. 

He stared out of the window for the long hours upon the plane, watching the colors change from the cobalt blue of the night to the soft lavender and pink of almost-but-not-quite-dawn. They touched down with barely any difficulties. Soul grabbed his bags and pushed his way off the plane, running through the airport to where his bike had been parked for the trip. He swung himself over it, tucking the bags away, and revved the engine. The purr that welcomed him made him smile as he sped away. 

Once he turned onto their street he slowed, the sounds of the bike becoming almost unnoticiable. It had been almost four months since he'd come down this street, four months since he'd left his perfect meister all by herself. He parked in front of the apartments and walked up the stairs to their landing. 

As soon as he knocked he heard feet running down the stairs. She remembered the knock. Three short taps of knuckles against wood, the "cool" way to knock. The door swung open and he smiled affectionately down at her, singing. "Hey, I know it's been forever, but I'm comin' home tonight." She sang the next part of their song for him, wrapping her arms around him and closing her eyes. "And now that you're here I'm never leavin' your side." He pulled her closer to him, kissing her cheek. "I told you I was comin', sorry it took so long. But I was on the first flight home, I was on the first flight home."