A/N: This is super self-indulgent.
Summary: The first time they hook up is at a party. They don't really remember all that much—just brief moments, passing sensations— but she's pretty drunk, he's pretty high, so they can guess what went down. (LeoSaya Non-Despair AU PWP)
Tags: F/M, Leon Kuwata/Sayaka Maizono, references to the 78th class, Non-Despair AU, PWP, First times, Friends with Benefits, Drunkness, Leon is bi bi bi (bi bi!)
The first time they hook up is at a party. They don't really remember all that much—just brief moments, passing sensations— but she's pretty drunk, he's pretty high, so they can guess what went down.
"Hey, Leon?" she asks as they're getting dressed.
"What's up?" He looks up at her, in the process of buttoning his shirt. He must've seen the expression on her face, because he pauses what he's doing and is immediately by her side. "Hey, are you ok? What's wrong? You know you can tell me."
"Please, don't, uh, say—"
"Hey!" he says, and she's surprised at the warmth in his smile. "Don't worry about it. I gotcha, ok? My lips are sealed. Besides, I was pretty crossed last night, I hope I wasn't too off my game. I can walk you back if you like?"
"No, I think… I think I'm ok."
"You sure? Right, right, no, I understand. I can call an Uber if you want?"
"Really, I can take care of myself."
He laughed. "I know! You're about as together as they get. That's not really the point is it? Oh! Toss me your phone."
Shooting him a questioning look, she hands it to him, and he punches in his digits before tossing it back to her.
"There's my number if you ever need anything. Text me once you get back, ok?"
"For sure." She nods, staring at the contact on her phone.
"Hey, uh…" He pauses, seeming to consider his words. "Thanks for the good time."
He kisses her on the forehead in a gesture that is surprisingly tender.
The sensation lingers, and she's thinking about it as she's heading out the door. She wonders if this is something he's done before, and she figures, of course, it's Leon. It's probably something he's used to. Still, over the next couple weeks, she can't get it out of her head.
—
Not a party, she tells herself. A kickback. Which she attends because she just needs a break. She needs a break from Sayaka Maizono, the girl who spends every waking moment thinking about her future.
When she turns up at his door, he's so thrilled to see her, it's a little surprising—like they're best friends instead of friendly acquaintances.
"Hey! So glad you could make it!" he says, and maybe she's hoping, but he genuinely seems to mean it.
So she's at the kickback, and she stays close to him, but not too close because she doesn't want to attract too much attention. Something about his ease and the way he laughs really makes her feel at home. His smile lights up the room; why hadn't she noticed it before?
They get separated at some point through the night because the others are so incredibly shocked to see her that it begins to gnaw at her—despite the fact that she knows they don't mean anything by it. She's not seriously that frigid or square, is she? She talks to people. She's friendly. She has plenty of friends. This is just not her scene. But everyone wants to talk, wants to trade yearbooks, wants to ask what the hell she's doing here.
She's tipsy, again. Crowds she can handle. Being personable, she can handle. Being overdressed? She'll live. In the periphery of her mind, she wants him, because out of the haze that was their first time she can still remember the heat of skin against skin and that look of longing in his eyes. Perhaps it's needy, but she just wants him to look at her that again.
Or maybe she's selfish and she wants someone, and something about him is surprisingly comforting. Maybe that's part of why she felt compelled to attend in the first place.
From time to time, she spots him checking up on her from a little ways across the room. Every time, there's a small smile—which she returns. Sometimes it's accompanied by a small wave or a nod. It's comforting. It's thoughtful. It's cute.
To her surprise, he plays the gracious host really well. Perhaps she had prejudged him, but she'd always been under the impression that he partied like a fiend.
Everyone leaves happy; Ubers are called, keys are held onto for those too drunk to drive, friends stick together, he waves everyone off with a smile.
"Sayaka! What's your way home?"
"Oh, I can walk."
"You sure? People crash here all the time. Ask Hiro, it's no problem."
She nods.
"You need some company? I can call Makoto and Kyoko if you want them to wait up, pretty sure they're going your way. Or Ibuki might—"
"Would you walk me home?" she dares to ask.
"Huh? Yeah, absolutely! If you're cool with that."
She nods again.
They manage idle chatter for most of the way, but there's a good amount of silence that treads the line of awkward and comfortable.
Like an idiot, she trips, and he catches her in his arms like a cliche.
"Whup!" he says, chuckling awkwardly and standing her upright. "Watch yourself there."
She hopes he doesn't notice her going red in the dark.
After a moment of silence, he adds, "It's cool seeing you outside of school," he says. He's looking at her, but glancing to the street he says, "Car coming."
Spotting the beaming headlights in the dark, she realizing he's right. He takes her hand, gently guiding her out of the middle of the street and more off to the side. Once it passes, he lets go, a twinge of disappointment at her empty hands.
"Thanks," she says.
"It's nothing. But yeah, it's nice that you came. You're usually so focused and driven. But that's cool because you're passionate about what you do!" he adds, maybe upon realizing how that might come across. "I don't know anyone else like that. I dunno. Felt like I was seeing a different side of you is all. Although I hope you didn't feel obligated to stay. Not gonna lie, I thought you might tap out early."
"Oh, was it a problem?"
"Not at all!" he said hastily. "I was just… worried I might've scared you away or something."
"What do you mean?" she asks.
He runs his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. She suppresses a laugh.
"I mean… Lots of people can find the day after kind of awkward, ya know?"
She didn't really know, but she nodded nonetheless. "I guess."
Lots of people.
So he definitely has done this before.
His voice brought her back.
"Listen, I know we were both kind of smashed, but whatever that was, I hope at the very least it was fun for you," he said. "That's what it's about, right? Life's too short to not enjoy it."
"Yeah, it… it was. Good, I mean. At least, I think..."
She's still thinking about what he said when they're standing in front of the door to her apartment, and she fumbles with the keys a bit before the door finally opens.
"Well…" She bites her lip. "Goodnight, then."
"Goodnight."
There it was, that smile again.
"What about you? Are you walking home by yourself?" she asks, worried on his behalf,
He shrugged. "It's no big deal."
But he's here, and she wants to live a little, or maybe to not be herself, to not think about herself and her anxiety for one moment, so she pulls him in for a searing kiss.
It takes him a moment to realize what's going on, but he takes it in stride, leaning into her and his hands—oh, his hands—so gentle at her waist that something is definitely aflutter, whether it be her heart or her stomach she can't tell.
When they part, his expression is dazed. "Wow, so that was…"
"Yeah," she says breathlessly.
"Do you want to…"
"Uh-huh," is all she can think to say because in the next second they're making out again—the way she leaps into his arms with her legs around his waist is so effortless, you'd think they'd done it a million times.
It's a miracle they even get the door closed.
"Are you—are you sure you—you want me to—" He manages as he makes his way down her jawline, her neck, her collarbone.
"Yes, idiot! Oh! Oh my god, do you even have to ask?" she says, fingers tangled in his hair as she pulls him closer.
He has her pressed up against the wall, and the heat is almost overwhelming, but it's better that way because it gives her less room to think, to worry, to do anything but just feel.
One hand finds its way under her skirt, and she shivers from his cold touch against her thighs. She winces, hissing quietly at the contact.
"Sorry! S-Sorry," he stammers out, and she can feel his breath on her skin. It's as if the small kiss on her lips is so sweet that he's trying to say "forgive me".
It's so precious that she laughs, her voice shaky. "It's okay, I'm just cold. K-Keep going."
He nods ever so slightly, eyes making contact for just a moment of confirmation before she feels the heat of his lips against her neck again. Again, his hand is beneath her skirt, rubbing circles over her panties in a way that makes her gasp.
It feels good, it feels so good, but for the briefest moment she's scared because they're like this, and his hand is right there, and it's probably stupid to even care at a time like this, but it's too much, and she can't forget. She just wants to forget about herself, and she can't, not anymore.
"H-Hang on," she says.
He pauses, looking up to check on her again with an alarming alertness. "What's wrong? Am I pushing you?"
"Just, g-gimme a sec—"
"Do you need a moment? It's ok if you want to stop," he says. "I promise, it's ok."
He sets her down, but her arms are still around his neck, afraid of going weak at the knees—that if she lets go she might fall over right there.
There's so much concern in his look that in that moment she adores him.
"I'm sorry," she says, "I—"
"You don't have to apologize to anyone, especially not to me. I gotcha, ok?"
"I don't wanna stop," she says. "I just—"
"Hey," he says. "hey, hey, hey," he says, hushing her in a soothing voice. "You're ok."
She kisses him, hoping he doesn't notice that she's blinking back tears. "I'm okay."
"Do you wanna stop?"
She nods vigorously.
"Okay."
"Do you want me to go?"
She shakes her head, hugging him tight.
He scoops her up like she weighs nothing, and she just wants him to hold her like this forever. Instead, he carries her into her bedroom, laying her down ever so carefully as she reluctantly lets go of him.
"I'm gonna—" he starts, gesturing at the door, but she cuts him off.
"Don't go." Hold me, will you?" she asks, and so he does.
They fall asleep together, and in the morning there's an empty space where she wishes he would be.
—
"Hey, so I kinda blew it the other day—"
"Leon?" she asks, surprised that he's calling her. Leon never calls.
"Yeah, it's me. Look, I feel like I screwed up. I was pushing you too fast—"
"Hey, don't worry about it, that wasn't on you," she says.
"Let me make it up to you," he says. "Drive-in, Thursday, my treat."
"It's a date."
"Super!" A pause. "I mean, not a date like a date-date, unless that's what you want, or—fuck, what was I saying?"
She giggles. "Relax. I'll text you, ok?"
"Cool."
—
The movie isn't very good. It's some scary b-movie schlock they'd agreed on because the other in the double feature is supposed to be good, but Sayaka doesn't mind much because they've snuck in a 6-pack, and they're already a couple beers in. She's already beginning to feel warm inside. Not to mention, it's just the two of them so they can crack as many dumb jokes as they want without getting shushed.
It's fun. It's easy.
Leon has his arm around her—a move she noticed as soon as he tried it because hey, it's a move—but she doesn't mind in the least because it allows her to rest her head on his shoulder.
It's comfortable, they've got a good view from the back seat, but sometime around the halfway point her mind starts to drift. She stares at him, hoping he doesn't notice her as she tries to memorize the expressions on his face.
It takes him a few minutes to notice, and only after she takes his hand in hers.
He quirks an eyebrow at her. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asks. Their faces are so close they're practically touching.
Instead of answering, all she has to do is tilt her head up slightly, and suddenly they're kissing. They both taste of beer, so it's comforting when instead of recoiling he melts into the kiss, and she feels a slight flutter as he sighs happily into her mouth. They ease into an almost lazy rhythm as they continue to make out in the backseat of his car. One hand moves to brush her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. As sweet as the gesture is, after a moment she takes his hand and guides him to the hem of her top, to better help her get it off as soon as possible. He learns quick, hands shaking slightly, but with a little tugging the shirt hits the floor in no time.
It's now that she's thankful they're in the relative darkness, and they're parked in the back where hopefully few people can see them. It's what she was afraid of—caring. She wants to get to that point where she doesn't have to care anymore.
He takes a second to admire her, glancing her up and down, and instead of feeling embarrassed or self-conscious, she flushes with pleasure. Maybe it's the way he looks completely starstruck at the sight of her that disarms her in the most charming way.
She pulls him into another kiss, and she can feel his tongue piercing in her mouth as she reaches for the fly on his pants. Feeling unsteady as she leans forward, she catches hold of herself before she loses her balance, perhaps not as coordinated as usual. Refusing to part with him, no matter how much easier it would make the task, it takes her a bit to finally undo the zipper and get her hand around him. When she does, he makes an indistinguishable muffled noise into her mouth, somewhere between a gasp and a moan.
Wanting to hear it again, she continues to stroke him up and down, slowly at first. He's already pretty hard, so there's no trouble as far as that part is concerned.
"S-Sayaka," he manages pathetically in between hungry, wet kisses.
"Yes?" she asks softly, smirking despite herself.
"P-Please…"
She picks up the pace, jerking him much more quickly now as she kisses him much rougher than any time before, and he actually whimpers, yes, whimpers, on her mouth in a way that sends a thrill down her spine and makes her stomach pool with warmth.
"I want you to come for me," she says, not breaking pace, but with her breathless voice shaking slightly it doesn't sound nearly as alluring as she wants.
Getting down on her knees for him in the tight space that is his car isn't easy, but somehow she manages. She's positive it looks absolutely awkward, a jumbled mess of scrawny legs and arms and topless to boot, but thankfully he doesn't seemed to mind as he gazes down at her.
It only occurs to her then, she doesn't really know what she's doing. She kind of continues to stroke him aimlessly; it's one thing to multitask and another to have a cock right there in front of you. Uncertainty beginning to crop up again, she just tries to do what she thinks might be the right thing.
It shouldn't be too hard. She tries to fit his length in her mouth, only to choke on it in a way that probably wasn't too sexy. She snorts, trying not to laugh.
"Sorry," she says. She keeps him in her hand, moving it up and down; at the very least she can do that.
"It's chill. You ok?"
She can tell he's biting back a laugh.
She nods. Trying again, she manages this time to get her mouth around and bob her head up and down his shaft a bit. Her mouth makes unpleasant slurping sounds, unable to stop the spit and drool from getting everywhere.
In the background, she can register a scream from the movie over the radio, and this time she really does laugh, forgetting what she's doing and choking again.
"Hey, hey, Sayaka. Breathe, alright?"
She blushes, taking her mouth off him. "I'm sorry, I can't," she says through laughter hidden behind her hand.
"That's fine!"
"No, no," she says stubbornly. "Let me get this right."
She'd been hoping that putting all her attention on someone else for a change would help ease her mind, keep her preoccupied, but underneath it all there's still that anxiety, that care, buried deep. She can do this. Because she's a perfectionist, and she's going to get this right.
God, once again, there's that sensation of him brushing her hair out of her face, grounding her as she continues to take him. Such a small gesture shouldn't make her heart flutter the way it does. She gasps for air as she lets up, looking up at him and their eyes meet. His soft expression calms her.
Trying again, she gets the better hang of it, able to get a good rhythm going.
"See? You're—you're d-doing just—just fine—ah!" stutters Leon, eyes squeezing shut as he's undone by the end of his sentence, crying out.
She loves making him like this, revelling in all the little noises he's making. Feeling more self-assured, she strokes his cock up and down with both hands, mouth over the tip as she works to coat it in a layer of spit.
"H-Holy shit, I—I'm getting close, Sayaka. I'm—d-don't stop, okay? Don't stop, I—"
Hearing him begging for her is more than enough.
"Just like that, fuck, I'm so c-close, babe, I'm so close," he says again. Despite everything, despite literally being on her knees blowing him in the dimly lit backseat of a cramped car like two dumb teens, the pet name doesn't feel lame or demeaning; it feels... intimate.
To her surprise, he tries to pull back at the last second. "Sayaka, I'm gonna c—" He chokes on his words just as he comes, and it kind of gets all over her face and dribbles down her chin, but she's not one to complain, not when Leon is flush red and breathless like this and amongst the racing heart and warmth in the pit of her stomach there's the stirring of just immense fondness.
She laughs; she can't help herself. He does, too, albeit weakly, eyes still closed. When he finally manages them open, he stares at her in a way that she can't even place, but it's close to the look she's been seeking from him this whole time.
"Wow… You look—"
Instead of taking it, she rolls her eyes, cutting him off because she's not sure if she's ready to hear it. "Save it. But you're sweet."
"At least let me return the favor."
"Relax," she said, playing it off the best she can. While she's sure he means it, he's breathing pretty heavily right now. She can still feel the warmth inside like fire, but right now she's forgetting herself in the way she wanted. Reciprocation would just turn the attention back to her, and the idea of trusting him in that way—well... "Wouldn't want to miss the movie, right?"
—
They fall into a comfortable routine with each other. It becomes hard for Sayaka to think of a time when he wasn't a part of her life, albeit a part nobody knows about.
It's a sunday afternoon; they're watching a movie together on his laptop when she dozes off on his chest. They're curled up under the sheets together, lazy and procrastinating any and all important homework they should be getting done.
Despite all the gross sweat and the heat, Sayaka can't help but think he looks really good right now.
"You're up," he said, noticing her looking up at him. His lip twitches in a small smile.
"Mhm," she says drowsily, one hand reaching up to his cheek and pulling him into a kiss. He kisses her back, softly and sweetly, lingering on her own lips long enough for her to sigh happily, closing her eyes.
"Someone's in a good mood," he manages through a muffled chuckle when she doesn't let up.
Instead of answering she winds his arms around his neck, pulling him closer just like she wants. She trails kisses along his skin; up and down his jawline, his cheek, his lips, his ear. "Pay attention to me," she murmurs, lips grazing his ear.
"I'm here," he breathes, an ache in his voice that she wants to push as she makes good work on his neck.
His arms already around her waist in a comforting and secure way, he pulls her in so that she's instead sitting on top of him, now straddling him between her legs. The motion is so fluid and natural that it surprises her, and she lets out a little yelp of surprise, but she doesn't stop what she's doing. Instead, she continues to nibble at his neck, her hands feeling down his chest, hastening to undo the buttons on his shirt. Finally managing to get them undone, he kisses her on the lips, helping her to shrug off the shirt so that it falls bedside.
God, he's gorgeous, she thinks as she tries not to stare, but she has time to say or do little else because her shirt goes next—Sayaka pausing only for a second to get it over her head before it joins Leon's in the pile of discarded clothes on the floor. Then it's right back to making out, rocking against each other, and her hands settle on his chest in a moment of pure self-indulgence.
His fingers run through her long hair, trail down her back, and finally settle at her waist. She notices the pause at her bra, the hesitation, but rather than wait for him to make a decision she reaches back to unclasp it herself.
And he's thankful, because a small part of him is glad that she's taking the lead on this one. Guiding his hands to help her, she shrugs it off for him and tosses his aside.
"God, you are so stunning," he practically sighs in between kisses because he can't help himself—because the pop idol is gorgeous but underneath it all she's amazing, and he just has to make sure she knows it. Doesn't she know it?
She doesn't answer, but a small smile plays on her lips as they continue to kiss, flushing warm with pleasure at the longing in his voice.
Body against body in the sweat and the heat, they continue to roll their hips together—slowly, but only at first. She winds her arms around his neck, pulling him in close so that he can feel her breath on his ear as she gasps out, "L-Leon…", and hearing it in her voice is the best his name has ever sounded.
She pulls back for a second to look at him because she wants to see his expression, his eyes. She wants this.
Their eyes meet, hers hooded and alluring in a way that beckons him in. Of course, he wants her because he's wanted her for months now, perhaps longer, but he aches for her in a way that scares him.
"I—I don't know if—" begins Leon, heart racing, and thank god she seems to understand what he means because he sees a glint of something in her eyes. He swears that she nods ever so slightly as she gently cups his face in her hands, pressing a soft kiss to his lips—much softer and perhaps even kinder than he's experienced.
"I changed my mind," she says.
He flushes with embarrassment, ears turning bright red. "Th-That's okay!" he says, grateful she's given him an out (if that's what this is).
"Yeah, I'm not really feeling it right now," she says, or more accurately, she lies, which might seem pathetic to save his ego like this, but she kisses his cheek because he's been nothing but patient and kind with her. His face is well on its way to being the same color as his hair. In his eyes, she's surprised to find not the smooth-talking baseball star; instead, he looks as scared as she felt the first time (well, the first time she remembers). She wants to be here for him in the same way. It's just a single kiss on the cheek, but she hopes to convey that much to him.
"We can do something else," she murmurs in his ear, reassuring but also open enough that she's leaving the choice up to him.
He chuckles awkwardly. "I mean, this is fine," he said, voice unusually high. "I mean, if you're not feeling it, you're not feeling it, but I just, ya know, don't want to push you—"
She hushes him, shaking her head at herself and laughing quietly. "How about… we just take this slow? We don't have to go all the way. We'll just... go as far as we're comfortable. I'm okay with that. Are you?" Her expression is earnest.
His heart is still racing, but he nods. "Yes," he says, truthfully, finally fed up with his own inability to just tell her how he feels, ashamed he has to rely on her coddling to make himself feel better about being scared. God, why was he scared? When was he ever scared—with her or with anyone else?
She smirks. "Relax," she says. "I got you, ok? It's… chill." She's mocking him, just a little, not cruelly and hopefully in a way that he understands—because when he talks, she listens. "Just sit back…" she says, her lips almost on his as she eases her hand down to his pants, taking her time with the zipper in a way that's absolutely tantalizing. Pulling him out of his boxers, she strokes his cock slowly with one hand. "Let me take care of you."
He bites his lip, suppressing a moan as he grows harder in her hand. "A-Are you sure?" he asks, "You're a-always the one who—"
"Forget about what I want," she says because as much as she enjoys this—as much as she enjoys him—she's Sayaka Maizono the pop idol who never has a crack in her facade, and she wouldn't know emotional vulnerability if it slapped her in the face. This has always been about forgetting the bigness that is herself and her reputation. If she can just devote her time to someone else... "Try to enjoy it."
"I want you to have a good t-time, too!" he says, unable to get out his sentence without gasping. "I j-just don't want you to think I'm so—some jerk who—"
"Come on, babe, do you really want to have this conversation right down with my hand on your dick?" she asks, pouting with no real malice behind it. Because honestly, would she really be doing this—would she really have already done this several times in the past—if she didn't want to?
Instead of answering he moans, eyes shutting and mouth agape as she works her hand up and down the entire length of his cock, then rubs her thumb across the tip. However, as blissed out as he is by her touch, he loves the sound of being called "babe" even more.
"That's what you want, isn't it?" she asks, voice low and throaty. "My hand?"
"Y-Yes," he says, eyes still closed. "God, yes, Sayaka."
She takes her sweet time with him, pausing briefly only to spit into her hand before continuing, keeping the same rhythm and taking delight in watching him squirm under her, bucking his hips upward.
"Faster," he pants.
"Sorry?" she asks because she's a tease, "What was that?"
"F-Faster," he begs, "S-Sayaka, p-please, faster."
"Ssshhhhhh," she says, leaning in and kissing him as she strokes him, to which he responds hungrily like she's something he craves. Overeager, it ends up being more tongue than lips and more teeth than tongue. "Relax," she says, knowing it will drive him crazy. "Tell me what else you want, Leon," she says, nibbling at his ear, trailing kisses down his jaw, his neck, his collarbone. "My lips? Is that what you want?" she asks, voice muffled as she continues to kiss down his chest.
"Y-Yes, fuck, yes," he says, savoring the heat of her mouth against his skin as he falls back onto his elbows.
One small kiss at his hips; one small thing that sends him shivering with anticipation despite the heat. She kisses the base, spitting to keep it slick as she runs her hand up and down, licking a stripe up to the top. She hears the sharp intake of breath at the sensation. The next moment her tongue is swirling around the head of his length as she continues to stroke him with one hand; her mouth is so warm and wet, and it takes everything in his power to fight back the groan as his head lulls back.
She strokes him with both hands, continuing like that while sucking at the head and slowly trying to work her way farther down.
He opens his eyes to see her looking up at him expectantly with those wide blue eyes of hers. Maybe it's crazy, but he can't help but think she looks so beautiful in the mess and the sheets—topless, long hair framing her face as it falls unkempt all around her, long slender fingers around him, sweat collecting on her forehead, the rosy flush on her face, and those eyes—good God those eyes.
"Have I—ah! Have I e-ever told you—you that—that you look gorgeous like this?" he asks, barely managing to get the sentence out as it turns into a soft moan.
She rolls her eyes, taking one hand off to wipe the drool from her mouth. "You are so full of it." Maybe under other circumstances, she might've accepted the compliment, but not with the shame of the sweat and the knowledge that she hadn't washed her hair for three days.
He was in love with the moment, nothing more; that's what she told herself.
"You are so p-perfect," he says with a quaver in his voice, admiring tone and adoring eyes making her determined to make him speechless by trying to get him as far down as she can take him. It doesn't work. "Seriously, is there anything you c—can't do?"
She chokes, and despite her gag reflexes kicking in she holds it for as long as she can before letting up with a disgusting slurp. Damn it, not all the way. "Pretty sure I'm only mediocre at giving head, so—"
(In her opinion it's not a lie, but she's definitely gotten better.)
"Do you see me complaining?" he says with a weak laugh, only for her to try again, and he hisses, "Ah! W-Watch the teeth."
"Mmph!" she says, trying to answer but forgetting her mouth is full and snorting when she chokes again. Her mouth makes a satisfying Pop! as she lets up again. "Sorry." Her smile is apologetic.
"It's cool," he says because it's not every day you get your dick sucked by a famous singer, even for the two of them who have been doing this for some time now.
A thought strikes him. "Do you—fuck—do you wanna go out with me?" he asks, and she hates how his expression is so wide-eyed and earnest. She strokes him faster, hoping finally he'll be too gone to talk. "Fuck…" He falls onto his back, grasping at the sheets.
She gawks at him. "You're seriously asking me this now?" she hisses.
"I mean it!" he says through all the heavy breathing before promptly devolving into a mess of loud whimpers and moans, at the mercy of her mouth on his dick. "I think we'd—holy fuck, Sayaka, oh, fuck yes, k-keep going, p-please, just a little more, I won't be able t-to last much longer if—if—y—I—"
Each fragment gets more incoherent by the second and thankfully he can barely speak, the only real words she's picking up is her name, over and over.
"Sayaka, please, Sayaka—" he chants because it's the only thought in his blank head, but one hand grips tighter on the sheets and the other to the back of her head, tugging on her hair as a warning because he's close—perhaps a little harder than necessary—all usual sense of control and dexterity gone.
Leon cries out, bucking his hips upward because all he wants is more—fucking her mouth till he comes because he's not decent or gentle, in her hands he's just a string of moans too loud to care what the neighbors will think.
After taking the time to catch his breath, he opens his eyes to look down at her.
"You swallowed," he says, tone surprised.
She wipes that perfect mouth of hers with the back of her hand, lips pursing in a small smile. "Are you okay?"
"Fuck," he breathes out. He laughs, eyes half-lidded as he lays back and lets out a low groan.
With a happy sigh, Sayaka moves to curl up beside him, draping her arms around him. However, she's surprised when he pulls her in for a kiss.
She pulls back. "You're shaking," she says with an expression of concern.
Leon nods, trying to calm his pulse, both riding out the high and utterly exhausted. He wants to talk to her; he wants to try again, to ask her out, but first he has to catch his breath.
As if she's read his mind, Sayaka frowns, saying, "I know what you're going to say… Please, Leon," she pleads into his ear, and she hopes he understands. She wants to say, Let me enjoy our time together. Let's keep this in the present, but she doesn't because she's a coward.
"You don't know what I was gonna say—"
"Yes, I do. It was a fleeting thought," she whispers, pulling him into another kiss, unsure whether she's trying to convince him or herself. A passing thought, for sure, she tells herself. A foolish thought, brought on by the hormones and the heat of moment.
"Maybe you're right," he admits because just the idea that there might be something deeper frightens him, and he's considering taking it back altogether. That ache is still there, the ache somewhere in his chest. He likes where they're at right now. Maybe he's being stupid.
"We've discussed this, haven't we?" she asks, but he's too distracted by her lips on his.
"'Don't m—" he tries, interrupted by a kiss as he mumbles on her lips. "Don't make—fuck, what was it, again?" he asks with a small chuckle because his mind is blank as they continue to make out. One hand traces her cheek, the other runs through her hair.
She giggles into the kiss, finally pulling away to rest her head on his chest. "'Don't make serious life decisions while we're fooling around'," she recites very quietly, in a moment of surprising sincerity.
"Who said anything about serious?" he said, tilting his head back to look at her. "Let me take you out. We'll just hang out. It'll be good."
Sayaka bites her lip, kissing his jawline. "We already do that." The twinge of guilt at causing the sober moment is alleviated; she's grateful for him lightening the mood—persistent as he is. But she hates to turn him down, and he appeals to her in just the right way.
"Then it's perfect."
"Um…" Her eyes are distant like she's lost in thought. She can indulge this wish, right? Just this once. With a slow nod, she says, "Alright, then." She can't stop smiling.
"So... what does that mean?" he asks.
She laughs. "Yes," she says. Arms around his neck, she pulls him close, allowing herself to be immersed in the warmth of their bodies against each other. "It means yes."
A/N: Title is an obvious 1975 reference thanks for playing. This is my guilty pleasure ship. I don't know exactly how the timeline works, they're like 18-19 in this maybe for the record. Part 2 will be up soon.