Chapter 4: A brief rest
Maggie stroked Leo's hair and studied his eyes. For his part, Leo squirmed against her and murmured, "I cannot believe that *this*..." and he wiggled his fingers between them. "... is normal. I've never met anyone as hot, as *ready*, as hungry as you. And you want to be with me?"
Maggie grinned. "How could I not? You protected me, your mind fascinates me, and we spend time just being. I'm falling for you, Leo. And you are rapidly becoming my favorite lover, and not just because your cock is monstrous." Maggie teased, squeezing his dick with her thighs, feeling it grow hard again. She ran her nails down his spine, making him shiver. "I'm going to enjoy being your little cock-hungry lover."
Leo groaned, his cock hardening against her thigh. "You’re going to be the death of me," he murmured, his voice rough with amusement and desire. His fingers traced the curve of her waist before sliding up to cup her breast, kneading gently. "I can already tell."
Maggie arched into his touch, her breath hitching. "Hopefully in the best possible way," she whispered, her voice dripping with playful mischief. "And hopefully not for a long long time." Maggie's voice was a low purr as she rolled her hips against Leo's, feeling his cock twitch between them. The air in the room was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, the sheets tangled around their legs. She could feel the heat radiating off him, the way his muscles tensed beneath her touch. Leo's fingers traced lazy circles on her hip, his touch possessive, as if he couldn't quite believe she was real.
Maggie leaned in and pressed her lips to his collarbone, kissing him softly. "I want to know everything about you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Not just the parts you think I should see." Maggie traced her fingers along the sharp line of Leo's jaw, feeling the faint stubble there. "I want to know what makes you laugh, what keeps you up at night, what you dream about when you close your eyes."
Leo exhaled sharply, his breath warm against her forehead. "You already know more than most people," he admitted, his voice rough with something that sounded almost like vulnerability. His fingers tightened briefly on her waist before relaxing, as if he was fighting the urge to pull her closer—or maybe to push her away. "And that's... dangerous."
Maggie lifted her head just enough to meet his gaze, her dark eyes searching his.
"Dangerous?" she echoed, her voice soft but steady. She didn’t pull away, didn’t let the weight of his words push her back. Instead, she let her fingers trail down his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palm. "I don’t think so. I think it’s just real."
Leo’s jaw tightened, his dark eyes flickering with something unreadable. For a moment, Maggie thought he might shut down, might retreat behind the easy charm and confident smirk he wore like armor. But then his expression shifted, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction as he exhaled. "You’re different," he said finally, his voice low. "Most people don’t want the messy parts. The late nights stressing over exams I barely passed, the nights I lie awake wondering if I’m actually smart enough for this, the dreams where I second-guess every decision I’ve ever made." Leo’s voice dropped lower, barely above a murmur. "But you—you just… look at me like you already know."
Maggie’s breath hitched. The admission hung between them, fragile and raw. She shifted carefully, making sure not to dislodge him, her fingers still tracing lazy patterns on his chest.
"I do know," she said softly. "I know you stay up until 3 AM finishing papers because you’re terrified of getting anything less than an A. I know you hum under your breath when you fold laundry because it makes the chore less boring. I know your favorite movie is the one where the guy wears a red jacket in a black-and-white film, and you cried when the dog barked at the end."
Leo let out a low, disbelieving laugh. "How the hell do you—?"
Maggie pressed a finger to his lips before he could finish, her grin widening. "Because I pay attention. And because you talk in your sleep sometimes."
He stiffened against her, his expression flickering between amusement and something darker—embarrassment? Pride? "I do not."
"You do," she insisted, her voice playful but firm. "Mostly about soccer." She leaned in to kiss him again. "I'm yours, Leo. You can share everything with me. I want us to be a team." Maggie’s voice was soft, sure. She rested her forehead against his, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between them.
Leo’s fingers still traced slow circles on her skin, grounding her as much as himself. The room smelled of sex and sweat and the faint citrus of his body wash. Maggie’s fingers tangled in his hair, playing with the damp strands at the nape of his neck.
"You’re going to ruin me,” Leo said quietly, but there was no anger in it—only wonder, a reverence she had never heard in his voice before. It sent a thrill through her, not just from the words, but from the way he said them. Like worship. Her eyes lit up at his words. and she squeezed his fingers.
She murmured, "Let me tell you a secret that may not be much of a secret to you. I'm terrified it will break us apart but because I ask the truth from you, I need to do the same." Maggie took a slow, steadying breath, her nails softly scraping along Leo's collarbone. "You probably never would have paid attention to me last year. I'm only discovering how...sexual a creature I am. Or maybe 'erotic' is the better word." She looked up in his eyes and blinked slowly. "The point is, I have learned that I like sex. And I do it often."
Leo's brows furrowed as he pondered her words. She went on: "But it's not emotional. It's not entirely mindless, but it's fucking, just feeling good. I enjoy it and I'm good at it. But I don't want you to think there's anyone but you, where it matters, in my heart and soul." Maggie's voice was soft but steady, her dark eyes never leaving Leo's face. She traced a finger along the sharp angle of his jaw, feeling the faint stubble there. "I want to be yours, Leo. Not just physically—though God knows I can't get enough of that—but emotionally too. I want to be the person you come to when you're happy or scared or just need someone to listen." For a long moment, he was silent, his fingers still tracing slow circles on her hip. Maggie could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palm, could see the way his dark eyes flickered with something unreadable.
The air between them grew thick, charged with the weight of her confession. She had expected anger, jealousy, maybe even disgust—anything but this quiet stillness, this careful consideration. His fingers stilled on her hip, but he didn’t pull away.
Leo exhaled slowly, his breath warm against her forehead. "So you’re telling me you’ve been fucking your way through campus like some kind of sex goddess," he said, his voice low, measured. Not accusatory. Just… curious. "And now you’re choosing to be mine?"
Maggie swallowed hard, her fingers tightening slightly on his chest. "I’m telling you I’ve been exploring who I am. And that I want to be *yours*." Maggie’s voice was soft but steady, her dark eyes never leaving Leo’s face. She could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles coiled beneath her touch, but she didn’t pull away. "And what does that mean, exactly?" he asked, his voice low, measured. "You want to be mine, but you also want to keep fucking everyone else?"
Maggie shook her head, her fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. The stubble there was just starting to come in after his morning shave, rough against her fingertips. "No," she said softly. "That’s not it at all."
Leo’s eyes flickered with something sharp and unreadable, but he didn’t interrupt.
"I just mean..." She took a slow breath, choosing her words carefully. "I’m not saying I’ve slept with half the campus. That’s not what I’m trying to convey." Maggie exhaled, her fingers curling against his chest. "I’ve had sex before—yes. Not a lot. A few partners here and there. But always safe, always consensual. Always with people I trusted." She paused, biting her lip briefly.
"I think I'm trying to say that I'm not ashamed of my sexuality, Leo. I don't want to hide it from you. And I don't want to pretend it doesn't exist. I want to be honest with you about who I am - about what I enjoy."
Leo's hand stilled on her waist, his dark eyes searching hers. "And what if I can't handle it?" he asked quietly. "What if I want you all to myself?"
Maggie's heart clenched at the vulnerability in his voice. She reached up and cupped his face, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone. "Then we talk about it," she said softly. "Other people please me. But they don't touch my heart and soul. You do. You excite me." Maggie cupped Leo's face in her hands, her thumb brushing over the sharp angle of his cheekbone. "But I belong to you. Only you." Her voice was a soft declaration, certain and gentle, wrapping around him like a promise.
Leo’s breath hitched, his dark eyes searching hers with an intensity that made her stomach flutter. He didn’t speak for a long moment, his silence heavy with unspoken questions—but not anger. Not rejection. Just something deeper, something almost fragile.
Finally, he exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening briefly on her hip before relaxing. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” he admitted, his voice rough with honesty.
“I’ve never been good at sharing.”
Maggie’s fingers stilled against his jaw, her breath catching. The vulnerability in his words made her chest tighten. “I’m not asking you to share me,” she said softly, her thumb tracing the line of his cheekbone. “I’m asking you to trust me.”
Leo’s dark eyes flickered with something unreadable, his fingers flexing against her skin. “Trust isn’t the problem,” he murmured. “It’s the thought of someone else touching you. Making you feel the way I do.”
Maggie’s heart pounded.
She could feel the tension in Leo’s body, the way his muscles coiled beneath her touch, as if he were bracing for something. She didn’t want to push him, but she also didn’t want to lie. Not to him. Not about this.
She took a slow breath, her fingers still tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “I’m not asking you to be okay with it right now,” she said softly. “I’m just asking you to understand that this is part of who I am.”
Leo’s dark eyes searched hers, his expression unreadable. “And if I can’t?”
Maggie’s fingers stilled. "I don't know, Leo. Do you really want me to change from the person that you think you want to be with?" Her eyes, serious and thoughtful, studied his.
"I don't want to be someone else for you, Leo. I want to be *me*—the person who enjoys sex and who wants to explore her desires. The person who loves your mind and your heart and your body, but who also wants to be honest about who she is."
Leo's jaw tightened, and Maggie could see the conflict in his eyes. She took a deep breath, her fingers gently tracing the contours of his face. "I'm not asking you to be okay with it right away," she continued. "I'm just asking you to understand. Can you do that?"
Leo exhaled slowly, his breath warm against her skin. "I don’t know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
His fingers hovered over her waist, as if he wanted to pull her close but was afraid to move. The silence between them stretched, thick with unspoken fear and longing. Maggie could see the battle in his eyes—the fight between wanting her completely and the terror of losing her to someone else.
She didn’t rush him. She simply waited, her thumb tracing the faint stubble along his jaw, her gaze never leaving his.
Finally, Leo exhaled sharply, his shoulders relaxing just enough to pull her closer. His mouth found hers in a slow, searching kiss, as if he needed the contact to anchor himself. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between them.
His fingers finally settled on her waist, gripping her possessively—not in anger, but in a desperate need to hold onto something sure in this storm of change.
"You're really something else, Maggie," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. His thumb brushed over her hip bone, the touch featherlight but deliberate. "I don't know how to do this—this relationship thing—but I want to try. With you."
Maggie's heart swelled, her breath catching at the raw sincerity in his words. She turned her face slightly, pressing a kiss to his palm where it rested against her skin.
"You don't have to know how to do it all at once," she whispered against his hand. "I certainly don't. We'll figure it out together."
Leo let out a shaky breath, his fingers tightening slightly on her waist. "I just... I need you to understand that this is new for me too," he admitted. "I've never felt this way about anyone before. And the thought of sharing you—even just the idea of it—it makes me feel like I'm losing control."
Maggie nodded slowly, her dark eyes never leaving his. "I know," she said softly. "And I'm not asking you to share me.
I'm asking you to trust that I'm choosing you, Leo. Every time. When I'm with you, I'm *with you*. No one else exists in those moments." Maggie's fingers traced the line of his collarbone, feeling the steady pulse of his heartbeat beneath her touch. "But I can't pretend that the rest of me doesn't exist either. I can't pretend that I'm not curious, that I don't enjoy pleasure, that I don't want to explore my desires."
Leo's jaw tightened for a moment, his dark eyes searching hers with an intensity that made her stomach flutter. Then, slowly, he exhaled, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction.
"I don't know if I can promise you I'll be okay with it right away," he admitted, his voice rough with honesty. "But I can promise you this: I'll try. For you."
Maggie's heart swelled, her fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. "That's all I'm asking, Leo," she whispered. "Just that you try. And if it's not working, we try a different ompromise."
The silence that followed was different now—less charged, more tender. The air between them felt lighter, as if the weight of her confession had been lifted just enough to let them breathe. Leo's fingers traced slow circles on her hip, his touch grounding her in the moment.
"I need to be honest with you too," he said quietly, his voice rough with vulnerability. "I've never been good at this. At opening up. At letting someone in."
Maggie tilted her head, studying him. The morning light filtered through the half-drawn blinds, painting golden stripes across his bare chest. She could see the faint scars from old soccer injuries, the way his muscles tensed when he was thinking hard. "What do you mean?" she asked softly.
Leo swallowed hard, his dark eyes flickering with something unreadable. "I've always been the guy who keeps things light. Easy. No strings, no complications. But with you..." He trailed off, shaking his head slightly.
The words seemed to catch in his throat before he could fully voice them.
Maggie’s fingers stilled against his shoulder, her nails lightly scratching against his skin in a gentle rhythm. She could feel the tension radiating off him in waves. "Hey," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "You can tell me anything. Nothing you say is going to scare me off."
Leo’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together before he released the tension with a slow exhale. "I’ve never wanted to be serious with anyone before," he admitted, his voice raw. "I’ve never let anyone *see* me like this."
Maggie’s heart swelled at the admission.
She lowered her forehead against his shoulder, her breath warm against his skin. "That's okay," she whispered. "Because I want to see you. All of you. And, as best I can tell, you're *gorgeous* like this."
She felt Leo’s body shudder beneath her touch. His hands, which had been resting lightly on her waist, tightened just enough to pull her closer, as if he needed the contact to ground himself. The silence that stretched between them wasn’t awkward or heavy—it was full, alive with the weight of unspoken promises and fragile trust.
Magnifying his confession, Leo pressed his lips to the crown of her head, his voice a rough murmur against her hair. "I don't know what to do with that.
It feels... too much." His voice carried a rare vulnerability, the kind that made Maggie's chest tighten.
Maggie didn't speak. She just turned her face enough to press a soft kiss to the pulse point at the base of his throat, feeling his heartbeat stutter beneath her lips. "It's okay if it feels like too much," she murmured against his skin. "We don't have to rush anything. We can just be here. Like this."
Leo let out a shaky breath, his fingers finally relaxing their grip on her waist to trace slow, soothing patterns across her back. "You make it sound so simple," he admitted. His chin rested lightly against the top of her head. She grinned at him, even if he couldn't see it. "Well, consider the alternative. We can forget that we both want more. We just be fuckbuddies for a while. Classmates who occasionally get together for devastatingly good sex. Would that be better for you?" Maggie asked, her voice soft but steady. She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, her dark eyes searching his. The morning light filtered through the half-drawn blinds, casting golden stripes across their tangled sheets. "I mean it, Leo. If this is too much, we can take a step back. We don't have to rush into anything."
Leo's fingers stilled on her back, his breath hitching slightly. The vulnerability in his expression was raw, almost painful to witness. "You'd be okay with that?" he asked, his voice barely above a murmur. "Just... sex? No strings?"
Maggie studied him for a long moment, her thumb tracing the sharp angle of his jaw. She whispered, "Oh, baby. It's more than I had Friday morning. You remember that, right?" She kissed his eyelids. "Will we still have lunches and occasional dinners and study sessions and walks hand-in-hand? With the bonus of occasional sex with the hottest man I've ever met? The me I was two months ago couldn't have imagined having that with anyone, let alone you, Leo." She kissed his jaw, feeling the rough stubble against her lips. "I'm not saying I don't want more. I'm saying I'm happy to take it at whatever pace you need."
Leo's fingers tightened on her waist, his breath warm against her temple. "You're too good to be true," he murmured, his voice rough with something that sounded like wonder. "I keep waiting for you to realize you've got me all wrong."
Maggie laughed softly, pressing her forehead against his. "I know exactly who you are, Leo. And I've never been more sure of anything." Maggie's fingers traced the line of his jaw, feeling the slight roughness of stubble against her fingertips. She studied the way the sunlight caught in his dark, curly lashes, the way his breath hitched just slightly when she touched him. The room smelled of sex and sweat and the faint citrus scent of his body wash, the sheets tangled around their legs still warm from their bodies.
Leo exhaled slowly, his fingers flexing against her waist before settling into a gentle rhythm against the small of her back. "What if I mess this up?" he asked quietly, his voice rough with vulnerability. Maggie reached for his chin and tilted it up to look into his eyes before answering. "Then I kick your ass and we try again." She gave him a playfully fierce look.
"As if I haven’t already seen you take a wrong turn on the soccer field and trip over nothing. You’re far more likely to trip over your own feet than mess up *this*." She gestured between them with a flourish.
Leo let out a real laugh then, his chest shaking beneath her cheek. The sound was warm and rich, vibrating through his ribcage and into her bones. He dropped his forehead to hers and took a deep, shaky breath. "You have no idea how many people have tried to do that exact same mental math," he murmured against her skin.
"And none of them got it right." His fingers traced the arch of her back, slow and deliberate. "I'm trying so hard not to fuck this up."
Maggie tilted her head back, studying the faint shadows beneath his eyes—dark smudges that spoke of late nights and early mornings. "You're overthinking," she said softly. "This isn't one of your soccer games where every decision has to be perfect. This is... us." She pressed her palm flat against his chest, feeling the steady, familiar rhythm of his heartbeat. "And you're already here. That's all that matters."
Leo exhaled sharply through his nose, his fingers tightening briefly before relaxing again. Maggie giggled then croaked out, "Do or do not. There is no try." It sounded like someone strangling a goose, but Leo thought he might could recognize who she was trying to imitate.
He opened his eyes to find Maggie had somehow used his shirt as a makeshift puppet, the fabric flopping around in her hands as she clucked and hissed in her best Yoda impression. A laugh burst out of him, rough and surprised, and he rolled onto his side to watch her. “You’re a menace,” he accused, but there was no heat in it. Just warmth, stretching wide and bright in his chest.
Maggie grinned unrepentantly, dropping the shirt and flopping back onto the bed beside him. The sheets stuck to their sweat-slicked skin, tangled around their legs in a way that was equal parts comfortable and ridiculous.
Maggie became serious and leaned into him for a long soft kiss. "Late lunch or early dinner, lover? I have seriously got to hit the books today and I can't think of anyone I would want to do it with more." Leo's eyes flicked to her, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You sure about that?" he asked, rolling onto his side to face her. The sheets pooled around his waist, revealing the lean muscles of his torso. "I mean, I *do* have a reputation for being a terrible study partner."
Maggie laughed, stretching her arms above her head before settling back against the pillows. "Oh, I know," she said, her voice light and teasing. "But I also know you're secretly a genius who just doesn't like to show off."
Leo scoffed, but there was no real irritation in it. Just that familiar, easy warmth that made Maggie’s chest tighten. "Secretly a genius? That’s a stretch," he said, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. The late afternoon light spilled through the half-drawn blinds, painting stripes across his bare chest. "I’m just good at pretending I know what’s going on."
Maggie propped herself up on one elbow, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his shoulder. "You’re full of shit," she said, grinning. "I’ve seen your notes. You’ve got the whole damn textbook memorized."
Leo turned his head just enough to meet her gaze, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. Then he turned to her fully and kissed her. "Food and books, maybe more fucking. In that order. Deal?" Maggie's eyes went wide and she nodded. "That sounds like a plan! Told you that you are smart!" Maggie said, rolling out of bed and pulling her hair into a messy bun. She grabbed a pair of Leo’s discarded sweatpants from the floor, stepping into them with a grin. "I’ll make you a deal. You order food, I’ll grab my laptop and books." His muscles moved under smooth, sun-kissed skin, the faintest dusting of dark hair trailing down from his navel. Maggie's gaze lingered for a moment before she forced herself to look away, focusing on zipping up her backpack instead.
“Okay, okay,” she said, clearing her throat slightly. “So maybe a study date is the right way to go. But only if you promise not to flex while I’m looking.”
Leo laughed, genuine and rich, as he pulled on a pair of boxer briefs from the floor. “No promises,” he teased, winking at her before heading to the bathroom to wash up.
Maggie bit her lower lip, watching him go. The way his shoulders moved as he walked—the easy roll of his hips, the way his boxer briefs clung just enough to the curve of his ass—made her pulse quicken. She turned away before she could get too distracted, busying herself by straightening the tangled sheets on the bed. The scent of him still lingered in the fabric—citrus and warm skin and a faint musk that made her stomach twist with want.
The door to the hallway clicked shut behind Leo, leaving her alone in the quiet of his room. Maggie exhaled slowly, running a hand through her tousled hair. She murmured to his absence, "We're going to be okay, Leo. You'll see."