campus citizen

College Alex Drunk Dials the Cute Girl from Bio Class: Part Two (the morning after)

By absurdly popular demand, here is the second part of this story: https://queercapwriting.tumblr.com/post/160028331674/sanvers-in-college-alex-drunk-dials-the-cute-girl

@technicallynotahuman @sarcasticallyinspired (don’t sacrifice anyone here it is ;) ) @danielagzzda @a-few-of-my-favorite-turtles @mahaokby @kryptons-lesbian @like-rain-and-phones and all yall commenting on Ao3, see what happens when you ask nicely? ;)


She wakes before Alex does.

Of course she wakes before Alex does – she doesn’t have red solo cups brimmed with punch working its way out of her bloodstream.

The sun’s just coming in through the blinds on her small window, and she can’t help but stare at the girl laying above her, in her bed, tangled in her sheets.

Alex hasn’t moved all night – she’s still out cold in the same position Maggie helped her into a few hours ago.

She smiles, and she forces herself to look away from how peaceful her best friend’s big sister looks. How peaceful, as opposed to how intense she always seems, how intent on getting everything right, on understanding everything immediately, on protecting Kara. How gorgeous she looks. Like she always does.

She forces herself to look away because it wouldn’t be fair.

Wouldn’t be fair to stare at the sleeping form of the girl she’s had a crush on since she first laid eyes on her – sitting front center in their bio lecture, while Maggie sat all the way up in the back – it was just the back of her head, then, her sweater and the way she took copious notes, and the clean, confident quality of her voice when she answered questions, when she demanded explanations for things that seemed to make no sense – things the professors didn’t have answers for, so the girl found her own.

Maggie had lingered in her seat, that first day. Lingered, because she wanted to see this girl stand up, turn around. Wanted to see her face.

And when she did – god, when she did – Maggie almost swooned, because god, she’s the most beautiful girl Maggie had ever seen.

She knew immediately that she had no chance. That this girl was way out of her league.

So when she befriended Kara Danvers in her English class, her stomach clenched when she slowly started to realize that the girl she had a crush on was her new friend’s older sister.

God, to be a lesbian.

So it wouldn’t be fair to stare at her now, even after Alex’s drunken confessions the night before.

Because hell, she was probably just lonely, just drunk, just looking for a good time.

Because there was no way someone as brilliant, as dedicated, as gorgeous as Alex Danvers would ever even notice her, let alone…

Whatever. It’s whatever.

She stands quietly and pads into the kitchen, rummaging for instant coffee, for water, for a banana, for aspirin. Alex will probably need all of them when she wakes.

Maggie settles back onto the floor with a calculus text book, her back against the wall, eyes deliberately not on Alex’s sleeping form, but facing her so she can make sure she’s alright. Make sure she’s not having nightmares or anything.

She forces herself to focus on studying – just one more exam, tonight – so she doesn’t focus on the deep, slow rhythm of Alex’s breath. Doesn’t focus on the idea, the image, of Alex in her bed.

In her bed.

God.

She needs to focus.

But then Alex is stirring, and Maggie is glancing up, and Alex is checking to see if she has her clothes on, and Maggie’s fists clench and her heart breaks.

“Maggie.” Her voice is groggy and her voice is perfect.

“Morning,” Maggie offers, still like if she moves, she’ll scare Alex more than she already looks scared.

“Did I – did we – ”

“No.” She shakes her head firmly, and Alex instantly believes her.

“God. Because if we did, I’d want to remem – ” But then she does remember.

Remembers her drunken call, remembers her confessions. Remembers Maggie calling her sweetie, remembers Maggie running to get her, to give her water.

Remembers telling Maggie she wants to kiss her, and something about a promise to continue the conversation when Alex is sober. If she wants.

And she does want. God, does she want.

But right now? Right now, her face is red and she’s rolling over in Maggie’s bed – in Maggie’s bed, in Maggie’s bed – and she’s groaning and she’s apologizing, apologizing, over and over and over.

And then there are tentative hands on her back, on her shoulder, and there’s whispering, soft and gentle and careful and protective.

“Hey, hey, hey, Danvers. Alex. You have nothing to apologize for. Okay? It happens. Being drunk and all. It’s okay, you’re okay, I don’t… I don’t think any less of you or – ”

“But I was so pathetic – ”

“No.” The sternness in Maggie’s voice makes her take her hands away from her face and look up at her, at her messy hair, still in the basketball shorts and hoodie she’d thrown on last night.

“No, Alex, you’re not pathetic. Okay? Far from it, you – ”

“Maggie.”

“Yeah.”

“Can you get up?”

“Oh! Yeah, of course, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just – ”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just – I have to pee.”

Maggie grins, partly amused, mostly relieved that Alex wasn’t repulsed by her touch. She bows and sweeps her hands toward her bathroom, and Alex returns the grin shyly.

Maggie collapses onto her bed and sighs and stares at her hands and tries to calm her racing heart, her burning desire.

She waits a few long minutes, until she hears Alex call, “Hey Maggie, can I use your mouthwash?”

“Course you can!” she calls back, her heart racing, glad she’d brushed her own teeth while Alex was still sleeping, because Alex had said she wanted to kiss her, and maybe, just maybe… but no. No, no. She was probably just trying to get rid of the taste of old alcohol in her mouth. That had to be it.

She’s still trying to convince herself not to get her hopes up – because god knows that never does any good – when she realizes that Alex has opened the bathroom door, is leaning on it, holding it, her head resting on it, staring at Maggie with a slightly tilted head.

“You okay?” she asks, and Maggie almost jumps.

“Aren’t I supposed to be asking you that? You hungover?”

Alex stretches her neck out like she’s testing herself, and she shakes her head.

“Not really. You took good care of me.”

Maggie splutters, and she doesn’t remember any girl ever making her splutter before.

“I just gave you some water.”

Alex nods to the banana, aspirin, and water Maggie had already set out for you. “You did more than that.”

Maggie shrugs and stands, pushing off the bed with her hands on her thighs.

“Just being a good campus citizen, Danvers.”

Alex’s face drops, and Maggie’s heart goes along with it. Alex crosses the room slowly, tentatively, and Maggie forgets how to breathe.

“Is that all?” Alex wants to know, and Maggie can look at nothing but her lips, breathe nothing but her breath, think nothing but her confessions the night before. Noticing her. Liking her. How smart she is. How cute. That she’s been wanting to have Maggie take her back to her room. Been wanting to kiss her.

“I… Alex…”

Alex backs up immediately, her face a map of disappointment, of humiliation. Of self-hatred.

“I’m sorry – ”

“No, Alex, I… I sit all the way up in the back of the lecture hall, how did you even… notice me?”

Alex smiles at that, at the hope she hears in Maggie’s voice, and she plops back down on Maggie’s bed. Maggie joins her on the rumpled sheets, and they both gulp when they realize that they might be fully clothed, they might be sitting up, but they are, technically, in bed together.

“I can’t imagine ever not noticing you, Maggie,” Alex admits with no breath, with a bright red face and with shaking hands.

“But I’m just…”

“Beautiful. You’re so beautiful,” Alex whispers, and Maggie shakes her head.

“Alex – ”

“You said… I know I was drunk, but I could never forget this – you said you’d come to bed with me. Kiss me. If I still wanted to, sober. And I’m sober. And I… I still want to kiss you. Were you just being nice, or do you – ”

Maggie cuts off her words with her lips, with gentle hands on Alex’s face, thumbs swiping over her cheeks, index fingers lost in her jawline, under her short hair, and Alex raises her eyebrows, still with shock for a moment before she steadies herself with one hands on Maggie’s shoulder and the other on her face, kissing her back, kissing her back, kissing her back.

Maggie gasps when Alex’s lips part for her tongue, and heat tears through her body when Alex swoons against her with a gasp softer than air but more intense than anything Maggie has ever heard or felt.

Alex tastes like her mouthwash and she tastes like her heaven, and god, god, god, she’s never understood the whole fireworks thing until this moment, here, now, Alex Danvers’s trembling fingers on her shoulders, Alex’s tongue exploring her lips, Alex’s body shifting so they’re as close as they can be without laying down, Alex kissing her like she’s never been kissed, like she’s never been seen, like she’s never been cared for, attended to… appreciated.

They kiss until neither of them can breathe, until they have to part their lips and press their foreheads together and breathe. Just breathe.

“Wow,” Maggie whispers.

“I’ve been wanting to do that,” Alex smiles, and Maggie mirrors it.

“Same, Danvers. Same.”

“So you’re saying you like me back. Cause that’s… that’s what I got.”

Maggie chuckles. What a nerd.

What a perfect, perfect nerd.

“Of course, you’re not gonna make me wait a whole term for our next kiss, are you?”

It’s Alex’s turn to chuckle, to run her fingers over Maggie’s hair, to pull her into their next kiss.

Their next kiss, and far, far, far from their last.