“Anyway,” I said, jumping off the couch and gathering the plates we’d used for the apple pies. “We should probably get ready for bed.”
I gave Leo the same set of clothes that he had worn as pyjamas the previous time. We brushed our teeth — or, at least, Leo did the best he could by washing his mouth out with toothpaste. I thought I should buy him a spare toothbrush if his staying over would become a frequent occurrence.
Once in bed, the blinds closed, so there was only the tiniest amount of light to make out his silhouette. We held our hands up, the fingertips touching. Leo’s hands were only slightly bigger than mine.
“My parents aren’t very affectionate either,” Leo murmured in the darkness.
“No?”
“No,” he said, curling his fingers and turning our joined hands into a fist. He brought it to his mouth and pressed a kiss to my knuckles.
“What are you doing this Saturday?” Leo asked.
We were in the Union House, eating HSPs again on a Tuesday. It had been a little less than a week since Leo hadshown up at my door and admitted he was jealous, and since then, we’d hung out a lot.
We studied in the Arts library, my usual spot, but Leo had also taken me to the design building, which I’d never been inside before. Like Lygon U’s other buildings, it was old-fashioned on the outside, with red bricks and crawling vines, but inside, it was an explosion of glass and steel and abstract light fittings that reminded me of lava lamps. Leo gave me a tour of the place before we settled in one of the study spaces that looked like the interior of a spaceship, but with big windows that looked out at a lush green lawn and blooming flower beds.
We grabbed meals and beverages from Professors Lane in the Union House, and one time, he brought me along to the university gym, which was free for all students. I was reluctant, both because it didn’t sound particularly fun and all of the machines intimidated me, but I had to admit it was nice watching Leo’s muscles tense and his veins become prominent as he lifted weights.
I had known he was tall and strong, but it was all the more obvious in the gym, his shirt showing off strong arms and hints of definition in his torso. It was different when we strolled slowly through campus together or sat beside each other while studying, him leaning back in his chair.
We’d also had a lot of sex. Mostly, I fucked his thighs — there was nothing hotter than his head buried in a pillow as his entire body trembled — but I’d also given my fair share of blow jobs. It was always rewarding to make Leo feel good. Once, he’d grabbed my hair before immediately letting go and stammering an apology. I’d told him it was okay, as long as he didn’t pull too hard, and so sometimes he tangled his fingers in my hair or held onto my shoulder, or sometimes he just stared, his expression a mix of wonder and lust.
Leo hadn’t blown me or jerked me off. It felt petty to notice that, like I was keeping count and expecting him to reciprocate the exact same number of times. I wasn’t. He was probably nervous and maybe just uninterested in the acts, which was okay. Everyone was allowed their preferences. He barely even looked at my dick when we were naked, which I also could understand — cocks weren’t the prettiest thing in the world. I mean, I thought Leo’s was pretty great, but I didn’t think my own was a piece of art. And Leo did look at it, sometimes. When I was fucking him between his thighs, he looked down and saw it slide underneath his balls.
“Winnie,” Leo said, and I blinked.
“Huh?” Oh, right. He’d asked a question. “What am I doing on Saturday? Nothing, why?”
“My friend’s having a house party,” he said. “Do you want to come with me? You could meet some of my friends.”
“I’d love to,” I said. Despite how much we’d hung out, I hadn’t actually met any of Leo’s friends, apart from a few of his gym buddies. “Where is it?”
Leo mentioned a nearby suburb. A bunch of people were going, and I was free to invite some friends along if I wanted.
“Okay, I’ll ask around,” I said, “though I doubt anyone will want to come.” Rome wasn’t a big party person, and most of the friends I’d made last year would already have plans to go clubbing. I’d done the same almost every Saturday last year until I realised I was sick of getting drunk and hooking up with randoms.
I supposed I could ask Atticus and Elena, though I doubted house parties were their scene. If I had to guess what they did on their Saturday nights, it was probably going to watching documentaries and drinking expensive red wine.
“Or we could go together,” Leo said. “We can meet at my place and have dinner, then go.”
“Alright,” I said, smiling.
The Friday before the party, my good mood must’ve been more noticeable than usual because as soon as I walked into Intro to B Law, Rome took one look at me and said, “You look like you’re disgustingly in love.”
“It’s not disgusting,” I said, “and I’m not in love. I just really, really like him.”
“Things worked out then?”
I started to explain everything, but I had to stop when our tutor marched in and told us to “buckle our seatbelts because it’s time to talk about undue influence.”
After class, we slipped into a booth table on the ground level of Arts East because we’d been assigned some questions in class and decided it was better to get them out of the way immediately. Our laptops lay untouched on the table as I concluded my story.
Rome gave me one of his rare smiles. “So you’re boyfriends now?"
“Yeah,” I said, then paused. “Well. Kind of. We haven’t discussed it, but pretty much.”
Rome’s smile immediately turned into a frown. “‘Pretty much?’” He echoed.
