Leon's heart was racing again, echoing against his ribcage and pounding against your ear that was gladly resting on his chest after another of the thousands of sessions you and him shared after weeks of stress.

More than once you had asked him the same thing: what are we?

He never answered directly.

"We're friends", "We're mates", "Does it matter?". He knew you wanted a label. You wanted monogamy with him, the right to be his only yours and he yours. But oh, the poor man never quite made up his mind.

He loved every moment with you. Every touch, every touch, every simple kiss before, during and after making you his. But he was so afraid of not knowing how to take care of you later in a relationship, in something lasting.

Your lips kissed the moles on his throat carefully, calming every sensation previously produced by the hickeys left behind. He just sighed and caressed your lower back, not daring to look at those eyes that always watched him with love and adulation.

Was he even ready for a more than physical relationship?

"What do you think so much about?" You inquired, laughing silently as you watched him thoughtfully.

"… 'Bout nothing." Leon limited himself to answering, without taking his eyes off the fan blades that were spinning above his head.