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There once was a fish,

Forever alone and blue—

And then there were two

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"You look like you need a drink," I comment as Ethan sits down, bags under his eyes and his hair looking like he'd just got out of bed and hadn't bothered to even brush it. He's tense too; usually he's way too relaxed about everything, but right now he looks ready to leap out of his chair and run home.

"Yeah," he grumbles. "I do. Wanna buy me one?"

"Sure." I shrug. "We'd have to go to my house though. I'm kinda underage if you didn't remember."

"Oh, right." He nods. "Are you inviting me over?"

"Yeah."

His lips quirk. "Okay."

"It's the end of my school week. I don't know about you," I smile, "but I'm pretty ready to get fucked up."

"Me too." He smirks. "Wanna skip?"

"Skip what? The rest of our classes?" I ask for clarification. "Sure."

"Hell yeah."

I grin. "Sounds like a plan."

Ethan winks then turns his attention back to nothing. The class (like always) takes way longer than necessary before it's time to leave. I gather my belongings and wait for Ethan. "Did you drive here?"

"Nah, I rode." He points out a shiny black motorcycle.

"Okay. That means that you'll have to follow me and hand me your keys when we get to the flat." I look the ride over. "It's a nice motorcycle."

"Thanks. And why do I gotta hand over my keys? You gonna steal her while I'm drunk?" He laughs.

"Because I'm somewhat responsible and don't want you involved in drunk driving." I roll my eyes and hop into my truck. Xander is supposed to drive my car up and exchange it for my truck once it gets out of the shop. "You ready?"

"Yeah." Ethan puts his helmet on and mounts the bike. "Lead on."

The drive to my flat isn't too long and we park before I grab Ethan's keys from him and pocket them. I lead him to my flat, unlocking the door and walking in. "Welcome to my humble abode."

"This is fucking awesome!" Ethan says, looking everywhere. "How'd you afford this? Work your fifteen year old ass to death?"

"I'm a spoiled rich kid who also works as a freelance editor for independent writers." I sigh. "My mom picked this place out. Thought I was gonna have a roommate."

"Rich, huh?" Ethan scrunches up his nose.

"Yup. Parents are both lawyers and fund the college we attend." I sigh, unhappy with his reaction.

"That's lucky." He heads into the kitchen. "So where's your stash? Or do you need me to buy you some?" He smirks.

I open two cabinets full of liquor, syrups, club soda, and other things to mix. Grabbing two glasses, I set them down on the counter. "No. I'm an alcoholic."

Ethan raises an eyebrow. "Damn."

"Thanks." I chuckle. "My little brother brought some too." I point to the alcohol in the skull shaped bottle. "I'm not the best influence. It was a present."

Ethan laughs. "You know, maybe you aren't as much a stick in the mud I took you for. If I caught my little brother with alcohol, he'd be in big trouble."

"Well, my little brother is taller and more built than I am. Plus, I prefer it to his prescription drug addiction." I pour myself a glass.

"Sounds like your family's pretty fucked." Ethan says.

"Just the offspring. The alcohol is normal. My brother has the drug thing because he was diagnosed with ADD or ADHD when he was eleven. He says he doesn't have it though. Doesn't stop him from getting Xanax from the pharmacy." I sigh. "It was the stupid doctor's fault."

"I'm sorry." Ethan tells me, sincerity in his eyes. "That can't be easy."

"It's fine. We're here to forget about it. What's up with you?"

Ethan pours himself a drink and downs the whole thing. "Nothing important."

"Ah. So I'm the only one getting personal. How equivalent friendships are." I down another drink, grabbing the bottle and collapsing on the couch.

"Look, you don't want to know." Ethan hisses and takes another drink. "Why're you so interested in me? You've made it clear how shitty you think I am."

"If I thought you were highly shitty, you wouldn't be in my house right now where I happen to have a lot of sentimental things." I scoff.

"So you like me?" He smirks.

"You're hot." I shrug, looking him over. "Wouldn't mind having sex with you, though I doubt you'd be any good."

Ethan struts over and leans over me. "You think you can turn me, pretty boy?"

"Fucking me doesn't necessarily make you gay." I grin.

Ethan chuckles. "You're such a slut. Bringing me over here, offering me drinks." He sits down on the coffee table. "Not too stealthy, but I like that you're blunt about it."

I flutter my eyelashes. "If you're drunk enough, you could pretend I'm a girl. I give pretty good head." I chuckle. "You have to say yes before you're drunk though."

Ethan takes another swig. "You really want me, huh? What happens afterward then, we pretend it never happened? Get all awkward while working on projects?"

"If we're mature, it won't be awkward. It's not like I'm proposing. I'm here for a good time, not a long time. I'm not going to fall in love with you. You just gotta promise to do the same."

Ethan sighs. "I can't, Charlie. I'm not into you like that."

"Well, I tried. I'll ask someone else." I drink straight from the bottle. "I thought you needed to forget something. Apparently I was wrong."

Ethan stares at me. "So you're just done with me then? Don't even want to be friends?" He scoffs and stands. "You're kind of a douche, you know."

"Didn't say all of that at all, but okay. I'm kind of a douche, but I'm not going to ignore you because you, a straight male, don't want to fuck me." I giggle, drinking more.

"Yeah, well, maybe you should've tried harder. Ever heard of the art of seduction?" Ethan walks back over to the drinks to pour himself another.

"Yes. I have. I can't exactly just touch you or something. Sexual harassment." I shrug. "You already called me cute, so obviously something clicked." I grin.

"Alright." Ethan smirks. "I'll give you permission to try." He looks me up and down. "Give me your best." He walks back over and lounges in a chair.

"You're giving me permission to touch you?" I ask, feigning confusion.

"Yeah." He watches me.

"Hold up, I'm uncomfortable." I start unbuttoning my dress shirt, pulling it off as I head to my bedroom. I change into my favorite purple shirt that shows off my piercings and some black skinny jeans. I debate doing more, but I'm honestly lazy right now and if he says no, I always have Jamie on speed dial.

I step back into the living room and mess with my hair as I grab my bottle, sitting in his lap and leaning against his chest. "Where am I allowed to touch?"

"Anywhere but my crotch, pretty boy." His eyes rake over me.

"Do you like piercings?" I ask.

"On girls, yeah."

"So mine are bad? How sexist." I chuckle, drinking more and leaning more into him. "You're well built. I commend you."

"I like yours too. Never seen this one before." He touches the visible piercing on my collarbone. "And thanks; I work out."

"I have more. Want to see them?" I ask.

His eyes immediately flicker to my crotch. "Depends on where they are." He says suspiciously.

"I'm more of a submissive; I don't have dick piercings. Sorry." I chuckle. "They're hip piercings. I'm not going to just whip my dick out. I have a little class."

"Just a little." Ethan smirks. "Says the guy perched on my lap like a whore. I bet you'd do it if I asked you too."

"I'm here to please." I smirk, moving off his lap and moving my shirt up enough to show off the piercings. "I think they're cute. They hurt a bit when I got them though." I laugh.

Ethan nods, his eyes locked on my hip. "You work it." He compliments. "I can see how it'd be sexy."

"Can't pull it off without confidence." I nod. "I work out too. Squats."

Ethan nods. "Show me the benefits."

I bend over and back towards him, grabbing his hands and resting them on my waist. "I don't care if you touch."

Ethan bites his lip and caresses my skin. "What's in this for me, Charlie?"

"Sex, I don't get attached, I can't get pregnant, I give top tier head, anal is anal, and obviously me. I'm fantastic." I grin, turning around, but leaving his hands on my hips, moving into his lap and moving to whisper in his ear. "Plus, I don't care if you use a condom or fuck other people as long as you're clean and I don't have to worry about being killed by some bitch."

"I don't have a bitch." Ethan murmurs and looks at my face. "I need more alcohol for this."

I hand him my bottle and settle down in his lap, sitting comfortably with one of his arms around me.

He chugs the bottle. "I'll admit, you are attractive."

"Thank you." I shift slightly. "It's nothing to think so hard about though. It's not like either of us lose anything if you say no. Other fish in the sea."

"I don't know what I want, Charlie." He tells me, conflicted.

"You're in college. Now is the perfect time to experiment. Nobody has to know. It could be our little secret." I start playing with his hand, placing it to my lips. "It's not like I'm going to make you touch my dick or something. It's completely fine. I have blindfolds. Out of sight, out of mind."

"Charlie," He rests his head on my chest and sighs. "I can't. Not today. I just can't. I'm sorry."

I wrap my arms around him. "It's okay." I try to blink the fuzziness out of my eyes. "Plus, I think we're both drunk. I hate being sore and hungover on the same day. You don't have the right technique for drunk sex. It's okay. We can just hang out. We could use more friends."

"Okay, thanks." He agrees.

"This mean you'll talk to me so I can help you in a more healthy way?" I ask.

"You said my friends suck." Ethan huffs. "What makes you think I'm any better?"

"Cause you called them dicks and I have standards." I move so that I'm still in his lap, but I can see his face.

"Well, I guess I don't then."

"You have your reasons. Just tell me what happened. I'm your new friend, so I wanna be in." I nudge him.

He shakes his head. "You'll judge meee." He slurs.

"No I wooooooon't. I promiiiiiiiiiiiiiise."

He sighs. "They made me rob a store. I robbed a store." He confesses.

"That sucks. Sounds like you didn't want to."

"No, I didn't. They gave me a gun and I..." He buries his head in my shirt. "I fucking hate guns."

"You didn't shoot it, did you?" I ask, suddenly more scared of his friends than previously. I don't particularly care for guns either, especially in the hands of the wrong type of people.

"No, no, I didn't shoot it. But I threatened this poor guy's life. I feel like shit." Ethan tells me.

I run my fingers through his hair. "Sounds really stressful. I don't think you're a bad person. I think you just get in a lot of shitty situations."

"It was stressful." He sighs. "I cried for like an hour when I got home and all I could think about was how you said my friends are shitty." He lightly punches my chest.

Giggles escape my drunken mouth and I punch him back. "Glad to know you were thinking about me, Superstar."

"Yeah," Ethan chuckles.

"You're already obsessed with me."

Ethan scoffs. "I'm not obsessed."

"Whatever you say." I close my eyes. "It's not like you were flirting with me first day of school."

"That wasn't flirting, that was banter." Ethan defends. "Very platonic."

"I've never been called 'cupcake' platonically." I pull at his hair gently and curl it around my fingers. "So I flirted back. It was only natural."

"I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong idea." Ethan apologizes, looking into my eyes.

My shoulders just shrug. "It's fine. I saw Jamie afterwards and he made up for it."

"Is Jamie your current hookup?" Ethan asks.

"Yeah. We've been on again-off again since I first turned eighteen. I like him." I smile.

"Okay," Ethan rests his hands on my hips. "Is he hot?"

"Yes, he's hot and experienced." I hum. "He's twenty-seven. Aged like fine wine." I blink. "I could really go for some wine right now. Red or white?"

"Red," Ethan slurs.

Hopping off his lap, I go to my cabinet and grab one of my favorite bottles, uncorking it before crawling back into his lap and drinking some before putting it to his lips.

He takes a drink, sputtering when I keep it there too long. Some wine spills down his chin and he just giggles.

My hand brings the bottle back to my lips and I take a drink. "We're fancy." My vision darkens, but I just sigh dreamily, drinking and allowing Ethan to drink.

"You mind if I crash here?" Ethan asks, completely relaxed.

"Already planning on it. This is a two bedroom, so you can take the guest room." I rub my eyes.

"Thanks." He wipes his mouth.

"Are you tired?" I ask.

"A little." Ethan shrugs and his phone buzzes. "Shit, my friends are asking me whereeee, uh, where I am."

"You're 'out.'" I say. "You're about to sleep too. You don't feel well, so you can't go out until later."

"I should tell them I'm drunk and 'bout to sleep with you." He chuckles. "They'd lose their shit."

"So would I. Especially considering the fact that you aren't sleeping with me." I pat his face and pull him up. "If you're good, I may give you a goodnight kiss."

Ethan smirks and leans forward, planting his lips on mine in a quick, drunken, kiss. "Beat you to it."

Blushing, I throw my arms up. "Straight people are impossible. They do a lot of gay shit."

"You want me to stop?"

"No." I laugh, pulling him into the guest bedroom and throwing him on the bed before rifling through the closet and drawers before throwing him an unopened toothbrush, deodorant, Advil, and some clothes that should fit.

"You sure are prepared." He smirks. "Thanks, cupcake."

"You're welcome, Superstar. Goodnight." I wave, getting ready to leave the bedroom. "The bathroom is down the hall to your left."

"You're a really good guy, Charlie." Ethan tells me as he gets comfortable. "I'm glad we're friends now."

"Yeah, me too." I grip the doorknob gently before grinning. "Don't dream about me."