"Still, though, if I had twice as much free time I don't think I could spend it all on classes, I'm still impressed." 

"Well. Psych is the most interesting thing in the world."

"It's good that you get to study it, then." 

Sasha likes him Sasha likes him Sasha likes him Sasha likes him!

He is still not entirely convinced that this isn't some sort of weird prank. 

"I don't understand why everyone doesn't study it. You get to learn about people and people are just fascinating."

"I couldn't hack it, I switched majors after a year." 

Oh shit he knew that he--

"I feel like I keep putting my foot in my mouth."

"You're fine. I say I couldn't hack it, it was really more like 'I realized if anyone had one more stupid take about postmodernism in Empirical Research I was going to start screaming and then I decided maybe I should not be in a psych program.'" 

"It gets better in upper-level classes."

(There is still a part of Lev very clearly indicating how much he enjoys having Sasha in his lap. Indeed, it seems to have gotten only more enthusiastic about the subject.)

"Good! It'd suck for you if it didn't." 

Sasha is not really sure what the etiquette is here, given that Lev seems kind of uncomfortable with the crossover fanfic that is still happening six feet to their left, but they certainly do notice that! 

Lev takes his hands off the seat and very cautiously touches Sasha's back.

Oh. Good. This they understand.

They close their eyes and make a very soft ah sound. 

All right, then, he will be very brave and touch Sasha's hair.

(This is a terrible idea.)

Nooooo it's a great idea. The best idea. 

No, it's a terrible idea and it's going to make him feel like crying and throwing up in the morning but Sasha keeps wiggling in his lap and making little noises and this is making it much harder to remember that ideas are terrible.

He pulls Sasha's hair. 

Sasha whimpers and leans into Lev's hand. 

"Good girl," he says into Sasha's ear, "good girl."

Oh. 

It feels like the world's dropping out from under them -- like they and Lev are the only people in the room -- but there's a, a reason, that they can't do this right here and right now, they just have to remember what it is --

It's really hard to form his mouth around the phrase "do you want to go upstairs?" 

So he keeps pulling Sasha's hair, keeps whispering that they're so beautiful and so responsive and makes Lev so happy and are such a good girl, kisses their jawline and their eyelids and their smooth flawless cheeks.

It's perfect he's perfect Lev's so perfect -- but there's --

"We should?" they manage to say, and the rest of the sentence becomes a sharp gasp as Lev kisses their jaw again. 

Sasha's words send a jolt of electricity through him. It's intoxicating to be wanted. Realistically he could be anyone with soft hands and a hard dick but it's so easy to imagine Sasha loves  wants him.

"Yeah," he says, "c'mon. Upstairs."

Oh good. Lev knows where they need to be.

They follow Lev. 

Orgy, threesome, blowbang, uncomfortably close to someone else fucking... Nice. An empty bedroom that locks.

He pulls Sasha onto the bed, holds them for a moment, breathes in their scent.

Being held is. Good. They bury their face in Lev's shoulder and let themself relax into him. 

"You're so warm," he murmurs into Sasha's neck, and then follows it up with a bite.

"Fuck -- please --"