The Sexcubus Ch 01

Clara stirred her coffee absently, watching the couple who had just walked in. The girl's voice carried over the quiet hum of the café.

"Sorry, I'm still smelly. I just left volleyball practice."

The boy--Garrett, she gathered--just smiled and kissed her temple, then her lips, deeply and with an easy kind of passion. The kind that said he didn't care, that she was enough exactly as she was.

"You look amazing," he murmured. "Don't even worry about it."

Maya--Clara thought she heard him call her that--smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She shifted in her seat, tugging her sleeves down over her hands. Nervous.

"I had time to go home and shower after basketball," Garrett added, stretching out in his chair, completely at ease. His shorts and t-shirt were crisp and clean, like he hadn't spent the last two hours sprinting up and down a court.

Maya nodded, setting her gym bag down beside her. "That's good," she said softly.

Something in her voice made Clara pay closer attention. It wasn't just nerves; it was hesitation, like the weight of something unspoken pressed against her ribs. The way her fingers curled into her sleeves, the way she avoided Garrett's gaze when he reached for her hand across the table.

"You're overthinking again," Garrett said gently, brushing his thumb over her knuckles.

Maya exhaled sharply. "It's just..." She hesitated. "You know my family won't be okay with this."

Garrett didn't flinch. "We'll be fine."

Maya let out a breath, still not convinced. "You say that now."

"I'll say it always." His grip on her hand tightened, anchoring her to him. "It's been two months, Maya. I love being with you. I don't care what anyone else thinks."

She bit her lip. "It's different for you."

"I know." His voice softened. "But that doesn't mean I don't get it. The guys on the team give me so much shit for being with you. As if partying away our college years is all they can think of."

Maya looked down at their hands, fingers tangled together on the table. She could pull away. It would be easy, clean. But she didn't.

"My mom will never accept it," she said finally. "She wants me to marry an Indian guy. Someone who understands what it means to be part of our family."

Garrett tilted his head, considering. "So... she wants you to be with someone who checks the right boxes?"

"She wants me to be with someone who won't make things hard."

Garrett nodded slowly. "And do you think I make things hard?"

Maya hesitated, but then her lips twitched. "Well, you can be pretty stubborn."

He grinned. "Yeah, but you love that about me."

She huffed, shaking her head. "You don't make things hard, Garrett. My family will."

"Then we deal with it together."

Maya looked at him, really looked at him. He wasn't nervous. He wasn't doubting. He was just there, holding her hand like he always would.

She sighed, a little less burdened this time. "I really hope you're right."

Garrett smiled, lifting her hand to his lips. "I am."

And just like that, Maya smiled too.

Clara watched as the couple moved to the counter, their conversation drifting into the background noise of the café. Maya still fidgeted with her sleeves, but the weight that had clung to her voice earlier seemed to lighten.

Garrett leaned in slightly as they looked over the pastry case, his elbow brushing against hers. "What are we thinking?" he asked.

Maya pursed her lips, scanning the selection. "Something small," she murmured.

Garrett grinned. "You say that, but I've seen you inhale a whole cinnamon roll in like, thirty seconds. Besides, you just came from practice, aren't you starving?"

Maya gasped, shoving him playfully. "Garrett!"

He just laughed. "What? It's impressive."

She rolled her eyes, but Clara didn't miss the way her smile lingered.

The barista, clearly amused by their antics, asked for their order. Maya ended up choosing a chocolate croissant, while Garrett, despite his teasing, added a cinnamon roll to their tray along with two coffees.

When they returned to their table, Maya was noticeably more relaxed. She tore a piece of her croissant and popped it into her mouth, humming softly in approval.

Garrett watched her with a smirk. "Good?"

She nodded, swallowing. "So good."

Clara noticed the way Maya was leaning in now, elbows on the table, giving him her full attention. The nerves from earlier had dissolved into something else entirely--pure adoration. The kind of look that screamed *smitten*.

Garrett broke off a piece of his cinnamon roll and held it out to her. Without hesitation, she leaned forward and took it from his fingers, her gaze never leaving his.

"Mmm," she said, smiling as she chewed. "You were right. I do love these."

Garrett feigned shock. "Wait--*what* did you just say?"

Maya groaned. "I'm not repeating it."

"Oh, but I think you should."

She shook her head, but the way her eyes sparkled told Clara everything. She was *completely* gone for him.

Clara stirred her coffee, watching the way Maya's fingers traced the rim of her cup, the way her gaze lingered on Garrett's face as if memorizing every detail. Maya was looking at him like he was the only person in the world.

Garrett, to his credit, didn't take it for granted. He leaned in closer, whispering something that made Maya giggle, her cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink.

It was a simple moment, nothing grand, nothing extraordinary. Just two people in a café, sharing pastries and quiet laughter.

Clara was shivering. *I need this*. She closed her eyes and focused. The Pressure began to flow from her to Maya.

Clara took another slow sip of her coffee, feeling the familiar warmth of The Pressure stir within her. It was subtle, a gentle nudge rather than a push. She never forced people--just guided them toward what they already wanted but were too afraid to reach for.

Maya wanted Garrett. That much was obvious. The way she leaned in, the way her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her napkin, the way her eyes softened when he spoke. But something held her back--a whisper of doubt, of hesitation. Clara would unravel that.

She let the energy of The Pressure seep outward, invisible tendrils brushing against Maya's thoughts.

Go on. Let yourself have this. Touch his hand. Say what you want to say.

Maya exhaled, her fingers tightening around her cup. Then, slowly, she reached across the table, tracing the back of Garrett's hand with her thumb. He glanced up, surprised, but he didn't pull away.

"You have cinnamon sugar on your lip," she murmured.

Garrett grinned. "Yeah?"

Maya hesitated, then--there--she leaned in and kissed him, hard and deliberate. He opened his eyes wide, then closed them and pushed the kiss deeper by pulling her in softly.

Clara smirked, stirring her coffee. The girl hadn't even fought it. To be honest, Clara wasn't sure if it could be fought.

Garrett pulled back from the kiss, a slow, lazy grin spreading across his face. He looked at Maya in that unmistakable wanna get out of here? way, his eyes flicking toward the door, then back to her. It was an unspoken question, one that made Maya's stomach flip.

She wanted to say yes. She really did. But hesitation settled in, an old, familiar weight. They'd never been alone together--really alone. Every date had been in public, every moment shared with friends hovering nearby. This would be different.

Clara sighed inwardly. Come on, Maya.

She leaned on The Pressure, pressing deep into the cracks of Maya's uncertainty. She whispered into her thoughts, wrapping her in reassurance.

You want this. You trust him. He adores you. There's nothing to be afraid of.

Maya's fingers tightened around her cup, her lips parting slightly. Clara pushed harder, heat brimming from within her body as she used her power.

You know what would be perfect? I have a place. Quiet. Private. You can be together without anyone watching. Just you and him.

In the mere 10 seconds, the resistance cracked. Maya's shoulders relaxed, and a new confidence settled over her. She gazed at Garrett, eyes alight with something determined.

"Come with me," she said.

Garrett blinked, caught off guard. "Uh--where?"

"You'll see."

Clara smirked as Maya stood, collecting her gym bag with smooth, uncharacteristic ease. All anxiety was forgotten. Garrett, still intrigued, grabbed his coffee and followed.

As they stepped out into the street, Maya stopped as if getting her bearings. Clara stepped right past them, just a random denizen of the city. She began walking briskly down the sidewalk, the lights illuminating her form as she walked down the street in her comfortable sneakers.

Maya began to walk with purpose, her hand gripping Garrett's wrist like she couldn't risk him changing his mind. He didn't seem like he wanted to. If anything, he was enjoying the mystery.

"Where are we going?" he asked again.

Maya only shushed him, a mischievous glint in her eye, and raised a single finger to her plump lips

Clara led them from a short distance ahead, just far enough that they wouldn't notice they were following her. She kept her steps measured, guiding them down the block, past the flickering streetlights, toward the familiar stone stoop of her apartment building.

Maya never questioned why she suddenly had a destination in mind. The Pressure had filled in the blanks for her. She only stopped when they reached the steps, turning back to Garrett with an expectant look. Clara waited for them, leaning backwards against the stoop.

"Here," she said softly.

Garrett looked up at the building, then back at her. "This is...?"

"Somewhere we can be alone."

A beat passed. Then Garrett smiled, stepping closer. "Alright, then."

Clara leaned against the stoop to the left of the front door, watching as Maya led him up the steps. Smoothly and without Garrett seeing she passed a credit card sized piece of plastic to Mayas outstretched hand that she then used to open the thick glass entrance door.

Garrett looked back at Clara, inquiring politely if she was following them into the building.

Clara gave a polite half smile and did just that.

The Pressure had done its job well. She grinned, finishing the last sip of her coffee as they moved towards the elevator.