318. Chapter 318

They talk about Maggie hating to talk about herself.

But Alex kind of hates it, too.

She prefers alcohol and she prefers forcing other people to talk. By whatever means necessary.

But Maggie and Kara have her working on her drinking, and they’re both teaming up with J’onn to make her work on her rage, so sex?

Sex is a great option for not talking, too.

And most nights – most nights when she can’t talk, when she just wants to strip Maggie naked (or not) and fuck her hard and fuck her fast and listen to her scream in ecstasy so she doesn’t have to listen to the screams of agony blaring through her brain – most nights, Maggie lets her.

Most nights, Maggie likes it.

No.

Most nights, Maggie loves it.

Not that Alex is in pain. Never that Alex is in pain.

But most nights, Maggie loves letting her body be Alex’s bandage.

Most nights, Maggie begs for more and takes her deeper than Alex ever thought she could go, lets her pound into her harder than she ever would without Maggie’s desperate encouragement, eager hands, open legs, heaving chest, soaked opening.

But tonight? Tonight, Maggie’s tired and Maggie’s got her mind on the cases she’s working and she’s still sore from that sparring session with James and tonight, if they’re going to have sex, she wants it gentle and she wants it slow and she wants it tender.

Tonight, she doesn’t want it hard and fast and wordless.

So when Alex kisses her in greeting, she kisses her back, because god, her lips are like coming home.

And when Alex keeps kissing her, she opens her mouth readily, because Alex has still got her afternoon coffee on her breath, and god does she taste perfect.

And she sighs softly when Alex’s hands slip up and under her shirt, because Alex’s hands are cool to the touch and Alex’s hands are calloused and soft all at once, just like Maggie’s.

But when Alex pushes her back into the counter and pulls back and raggedly asks, “Yeah?” – Alex’s hands bracing, Maggie knows, to spin Maggie around by the hips and fuck her from behind over the counter – Maggie takes a nervous, terrified, panicked breath and tries to say the word no.

She can’t.

Her throat closes, because god, what if Alex gets mad?

What if she doesn’t feel loved, cared for?

What if she just leaves because Maggie’s not going to give her what she wants, so she’ll get it elsewhere?

Or she’ll get it from alcohol, and it’ll be Maggie’s fault?

She thinks about what she would tell Adrian, about what she tells the kids at the queer youth center when they’re talking about sexual health and safety, and she breathes deeper.

And she shakes her head.

Alex blinks and squints, looking down at her like she’s focusing through a fog for a long moment.

And then her hands drop away and she backs away so hard, so quickly, Maggie almost overbalances.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Maggie, I shouldn’t have – it – I’m sorry, I should go – “

“Alex, no. Remember what you told me? That it’s a relationship, and you don’t get to walk out? You don’t get to walk out, Ally. I don’t…”

She takes an enormous gulp of mostly air and she reaches out for Alex’s hands, and Alex takes hers, and the rapidly-forming pit in Maggie’s stomach shrinks somewhat.

She continues softer, continues quieter, continues with one of her hands leaving Alex’s to stroke her cheek.

“Alex, I need to be allowed to say no without you getting this upset and wanting to leave.”

Alex’s lip wobbles and she looks for all the world like Maggie just told her they’re breaking up, and she gasps out another apology.

“No, Alex, it’s not… you didn’t do anything wrong. Okay? You didn’t. I was okay with everything – I liked everything – until I said no. And then you stopped. And the whole reason I had the opportunity to say no is because you stopped to make sure. Right? So you didn’t do anything wrong, Danvers. Okay?”

“Do you not… am I not…”

Maggie shakes her head and lets her thumb trace a path down Alex’s trembling jawline.

“Yes, I want you. And yes, you are incredibly attractive. I just… I can’t do the rough and tumble tonight, Alex, I… I don’t want to.”

She tilts her head and studies Alex’s face as she processes, as she thinks it through; studies Alex’s face as she tries to convince herself that Maggie is not rejecting her, that Maggie is not angry with her, that Maggie just doesn’t want to have sex right now.

She watches as Alex nods slowly, and her own heart rate settles down, because god, god, god does she love this woman.

“But,” she offers quietly, and Alex brings still shaky eyes to meet hers, “seems like you had a pretty rough day. So even though rough sex isn’t on the menu, I can offer you fairly aggressive cuddles.”

A grin starts to tug at Alex’s mouth and a spark starts to return to her dulled, terrified eyes as she tilts her lips to the side.

“Aggressive cuddles, Sawyer? Is it even possible to cuddle aggressively?”

“Oh, Danvers. Come. Let me show you. Okay?”

She lets Alex hold her firm, hold her hard, hold her close, every single curve of their bodies snug against each other like puzzle pieces.

“I love you, Maggie,” Alex whispers, letting the sound of Maggie’s soft breathing and the candles she lit and the music she flipped on block out the agonized moaning, panting, begging, and screaming instead of ecstatic moaning, panting, begging, and screaming.

She would never have thought it would work.

But Maggie’s body is soft and pliant, and Maggie’s body is safe, and Maggie wraps her own hands over Alex’s arms around her body, cradling Alex to her even as Alex cradles Maggie to herself.

And god, does it work.