The lights were already off when I walked in.

It was a little creepy, I thought, as I fumbled my way along the wall and almost bashed my knee into a random chair just sitting in the middle of the room. Like I was a hapless fly heading straight for a spiderweb.

"Do you mind?" Amy whispered from where she lay on the bed. "The dark?"

"No," I said. "I like it too."

I decided then that at the point I finally found someone I wasn't insecure about having sex with, I'd have to marry them. But I doubted that would ever happen.

I walked over to the bed, crawling on the mattress and sitting back on my knees. The covers were perfectly made, with two bland white pillows at the top. There was nothing else worth observing in the room. Must be the one for guests.

I stared at her, and she stared at me, and I realized that this was Rhoda all over again. A girl just sitting there and waiting for me to do something. Maybe all girls were like that.

"So, um..." I started awkwardly, running my hand through a strand of her long silky hair that had somehow attached itself to me. "Should I kiss you?"

She smiled up at me, her eyes bright. They were blue, like Michael's, which was nice. "I think so."

So I closed my lips over hers, then pulled her body close as she kissed me back and grabbed one of her boobs, which I think startled her, but I ignored it, rubbing my thumb over her nipple. She let out her breath in a soft sigh, warm against my lips.

I was starting to relax now, fall into the pattern of what I'd done in the past. I pressed my hands to her sides and pushed her down onto the comforter, chasing her lips with mine. Her breathing grew heavier as I kissed her, our mouths turning back and forth to meet at different angles. "Fuck, you're hot," I whispered, running my hands up to grip her hair.

She made one of those giggly laughs and leaned back, letting me duck my head to her collarbone, then down to the soft skin of her breasts. I tried to kiss everywhere as I lowered myself, positioning my body between her legs while she reached to unbutton her ripped jeans.

I helped pull them down, trying to avoid touching her hands. My palms were getting quite clammy.

"I love these jeans," she said. "But I think they're too small." I ignored her and tugged them over her hips. "Do you think they're cute?" she asked.

"I think," I panted with one last heave, "they'll look better off you."

She giggled again and sat up as I threw them to the floor, then turned and slipped my arms around her, feeling along the back of her bra for the clasp.

This was the moment I'd been dreading.

I pinched the material between my fingers, trying to find the wire and unclasp it as fast as possible. By pure luck, one of the two hooks came undone. I tried to distract her with more kissing as I struggled with the other, but after a long few seconds she looked up, her eyes wide. "Want me to do it?"

"No, no, it's fine, I got it," I said, yanking my hands in opposite directions. The second tiny hook snapped off and her bra hung loose.

"Did you just break my-"

"Shh," I whispered, reaching my one hand to her neck while the other pulled the bra off and tossed it off the bed. She made a short noise of surprise as I pushed her down, then reached down and pulled her hips up to slip off the peach panties she wore.

She groaned, a low sound deep in her throat that I could feel in my hand. Note to self: act confident even when not.

I looked up, pressed my lips to hers again, and slowly let my hand make its way between her thighs, running up her folds before I dipped inside them. She moaned against my mouth, arching her back so my fingers were buried deeper.

I slid my thumb up as I pushed my middle and index fingers in her, so that it rested on what I prayed to god was her clit, then started turning it in a slow circle.

She sucked in her breath and closed her eyes, her hand sliding through my hair to pull me closer. I kissed her hard, tangling my tongue with hers, jutting my fingers in and out.

"Go up," she whispered suddenly, her breathing heavy.

I looked up.

"Curl them up," she breathed, catching her lower lip between her teeth. "Your fingers."

I was slightly confused, but I curled the fingers in her, grazing them against a rough patch of her flesh. She moaned and scrunched her face up, grinding down on my hand as I ran my fingers over the spot again. I kept doing that, then sat up and, keeping my hand in place, slid my trunks down and left them on the mattress to easily locate later.

She spread her legs, gesturing with her hand for me to come closer as I stroked myself. "Do you... do you have a condom?"

I froze in place, panic coursing through me. "Um..." I gulped. "No. I can- I can just pull out."

"It's fine," she said. "I'm on the pill."

"The what?"

She stared at me. "Birth control?"

"Oh, of course, I know," I said. I gripped her hips, pulling one of her legs up to my side as I pressed my tip to her entrance, pausing for a second to get it wet before slowly pushing in. She moaned and I did too, the raw heat of her suddenly becoming overwhelming. My senses were spiking off the charts and I felt so hot, so-

No no no, I screamed in my mind. You can't cum now, you'd never be able to live with yourself.

I tried to remember the things Michael told me to think about when I got a boner in his car. Pigs. Dead pigs. And rats. Blood and guts and rats and cottage cheese. I hated cottage cheese. Cottage cheese and tomatoes and eggs and pickles.

Fuck. Not pickles. Pickles reminded me of dicks.

I held Amy's waist tighter, watching her stomach and boobs ripple in a wave as I thrust into her. The soft edges of her hair brushed my fingertips as I leaned forward, reaching around her legs. "Can we turn over?" I asked, my breath rushed.

"Yeah," she gasped. I held onto the backs of her thighs and rocked to my side, flipping us so I was lying on my back. She straightened up, pushing her hands on my chest and sat back. I watched her, craning my hips forward as she lowered herself down.

"Fuck," I groaned. She went all the way down, our thighs touching, then back up and started bouncing. "Fuck, holy-" I started, breaking off into a moan. I clasped her sides as she rode me, biting on my jaw.

She leaned back and held my knees, and I stared at her boobs, jumping up and down, then shut my eyes and squeezed my lips together. She clenched, her walls tightening around me, and I threw my head back, forcing myself as far into her as I could as I came.

I held her against me, my high sending me into a haze as we pressed together in that blissful moment. She went up and down a few last times, then slowly crawled off and collapsed beside me, panting.

"You sure you're not gonna get pregnant?" I asked her.

"98% sure," she said.

I frowned.

"I'm hungry," she murmured. "Very hungry."

"We can go eat pizza," I said, nuzzling my nose into her hair. "But we have to stay here at least, like, five more minutes."

"Why?" she asked.

I sighed heavily. "To make it seem like I lasted longer."

╭-°—✞—˚✧❨✧˚—✞—°-╮

╰-°—✞—˚✧❨✧˚—✞—°-╯

We crept downstairs in stealth mode, me first because apparently I was the brave one, scanning the room for crazy people.

"Pizza," Amy said, grabbing my shoulder. "I smell it. I feel like a vampire." She sniffed in deeply. "This way."

I followed her vampiric nose through the living room and into the kitchen where Meg, Michael, and the fat guy with the fuzzy beard stood around an island counter, a box of pizza open between them. Amy rushed forward to scoop up a slice.

"Shoulda listened to me," Michael told Meg. "Ten bucks a slice; rich in an hour."

I slid up next to him and picked one, pretending not to notice when our legs momentarily brushed together. I bit the pizza crust first, which was something I'd always done. It wasn't even that good. But for some reason I felt hungrier now than ever before.

"I'm going to get fat," Amy complained, shoving half the slice she was holding into her mouth. "I never eat pizza."

"I'm guessing you never smoke weed, either," said Meg. "Anyone want cupcakes?"

"Me," Amy said. "But I'm too tired to eat. And too hungry to sleep. Oh god."

Meg set a plastic container of mini store-bought cupcakes on the counter, letting everyone take one. They must have been fresh, because they were still light and fluffy and the frosting tasted like creamy sugar instead of old cardboard.

"I'm going to lie down," Amy announced, selecting a second slice of pizza and another cupcake before she wandered out of the kitchen.

I lowered my arm holding the pizza and looked at Michael, watching him stuff an entire cupcake into his mouth. I smiled.

"So, how did it go?" he asked me.

I quickly forced more pizza in my mouth so I had an excuse for not answering immediately. "Fine," I said after a moment. "I mean, great. It was great."

"These cupcakes," the fuzzy beard guy butted in, "are not just great. They are phenomenal. I could eat them every day. No. Every meal."

"I wasn't talking ab-"

"Benjamin," Michael interrupted. "I'd like to introduce you to one of my very best friends. This here is Bobby." He slapped Bobby's shoulder twice. "He is a chef, florist, dancer, singer, and comedian. It was Bobby that supplied the flowers that I gave to my beautiful ex-girlfriend Kitty."

"Does Bobby know what happened to the flowers?" I asked.

"I've heard the tale," Bobby said. "That was an unfortunate event. Not everyone appreciates the love and thoughtfulness of flower-gifting."

"One of them actually stabbed me in the foot," I told him.

He blinked.

"Just saying," I said.

"If you ever were looking to buy someone flowers, like, uh... what's that girl's name that was just in here?" Michael asked.

"Amy," I said.

"Right. Anyway, Bobby's the man to go to."

"I craft elegant, unique bouquets for each individual order," Bobby advertised.

I looked down, then took a chomp of pizza. "I'm not sure I'll be buying anyone flowers any time soon."

"You could buy me flowers," Michael offered.

"No."

He sighed sadly. "I'm gonna go my whole life and no one's ever gonna buy me flowers."

I felt slightly bad for him, even if he was joking. I'd never known a dude to want flowers as a gift. Maybe, there were dudes out there that secretly did and never told anyone. I certainly wouldn't tell anyone.

"Michael, come with me," Meg said suddenly, before anyone else could speak. I'd sort of forgotten she was even there. "I wanna see if there's still anything left to smoke around here."

I wondered what had happened to the stuff on Skull Hat's table after he went upstairs with us. Maybe Rolph had come in and stolen it. I almost hoped so. I liked Rolph.

"Take Bobby," Michael said. "I'm tired."

She looked disappointed, and everyone, including Bobby, could tell. I smiled gloatingly at her as the two of them left the kitchen.

Michael leaned closer the second they were out of view, his arms somehow finding their way around my sides. "Did you know," he whispered, tilting his face so his lips were beside my ear, "that since the second I last saw you, you've been the only thing I've thought about?"

I bit down on my smile, trying to push away my overwhelming sense of triumph. "I guess that means you didn't end up fucking Meg?"

"I did not," he murmured, almost regretfully. "But you know, I've probably fucked like ten times as many girls as you in my whole life, so I think I'll be alright."

"Never know," I smirked, rolling my neck back so my cheek pressed against his. "Maybe someday I'll catch up."

"And maybe someday I'll win the Powerball," he taunted.

"I could just do, like, fifty girls at once," I said.

He laughed and squeezed me, making me let a squeaking sound and start giggling as he wrestled me around in his arms. "Never gonna happen, never gonna-"

"Stop it!" I yelped, twisting back as he got his hands on the back of my thighs and started lifting me. "No no, don't!" I grabbed onto him as my toes left the floor and he placed me on the counter, my feet dangling in the air on either side of him.

"Someday," he said, his hands planting themselves on my hips, "when you and me both have girlfriends or wives or whatever, we're all gonna get together and-"

"No," I protested.

"Yes," he said. "It'll be on a cruise. Maybe we'll go to the Bahamas. The Caribbean. Ooh. Jamaica. I have some great Hawaiian shirts at home I'll bring. There will be models." He smiled and looked past me into space, as if seeing them in front of him. "So many models. At least six each. We'll pick up some more as we go."

I wasn't sure how I could possibly tell him I would trade all the models in the world to go on a cruise with just him. But that would be weird.

"Michael?" I said, trying to recapture his attention from his little daydream. "Mich-"

"Quiet," he snapped, squishing his finger to my mouth. "I'm thinking."

I parted my lips slightly, then pulled back and picked a cupcake from the tray, lifting it and touching my tongue to the frosting to lick it off. He smiled, watching me as I took a bite.

"You look cute doing that," he said.

I sucked a crumb off of my ring finger. "I know."

He leaned forward, smirking a little, and pressed his thumb to the top of the cupcake, getting some of the frosting on it. He started to retract his hand towards himself but I caught it first, then drew it up to my lips and wrapped my lips around his thumb, staring at him.

"Yo, Blondie, stop teasing your boy toy and smoke this with me," Meg called suddenly. "And you. Get off my counter."

I groaned in dismay and let Michael pull me down to my feet, staying in his arms as Meg walked over. It wasn't like I'd never get another opportunity with him. We did live together. But still.

Michael reached around me towards Meg, and I peeked my eyes open to see him raise the new joint to his lips. "When we go to Jamaica," he told me, "we are gonna have ourselves the fattest blunts on the planet. Not these stupid little things."

"You're going to Jamaica?" Meg said. "When? Can I come?"

"No," I snapped.

Michael looked at me and laughed a little, then offered the joint to me. I was going to refuse but before I could he reached up and held me by the back of the neck as he pressed it to my lips. I inhaled almost instinctually, then coughed as my mouth filled with smoke.

"Such a loser," Meg muttered.

"Yeah, because people that sit around their parents' place and smoke weed all day totally aren't losers," I said.

"This is my grandma's house," she corrected. "And who do you think you are? You-" She stopped and looked at Michael, her face getting red with indignation. "He has been nothing but rude to me since the second we met. Thinking he can call me a bitch and throw trash on the floor? It's like he has the confidence of some super cool guy but then he's just..." She fixed me with a disgusted scowl. "Not."

"You're just jealous," I declared.

She narrowed her eyes. "Why would I be jealous of you?"

I mentally prepared myself to speak, knowing this could possibly go very badly. "Because Michael likes me better."

His eyebrows shot up while her scowl deepened. "Do I now?" he said.

I glanced at him very quickly, then returned my gaze to Meg confidently. "Yes."

"Did he date you for half a year?" she demanded. "Did he say he wanted to marry you? Did he send you good morning texts for weeks on end, sometimes from the bed of other girls, but you had to just get over that because you were the one he was-"

"Chill," Michael snapped. "Christ. Why can't you guys just get along? Is it seriously that hard?"

"Yes, it's hard to along with the little brat that thinks he's your boyfriend," she said.

"We're just friends," he said. "Like you and me." He leaned a little closer to her, bringing his hand up to her jaw, and I felt my blood boil. "Isn't it nice to be friends?" he whispered, his fingers tracing her cheek before he pressed their lips together.

The kiss was more passionate than I'd expected, and I felt a little rejected, but then he pulled away from her and turned to me, sliding his hand up to my scalp. When he kissed me it was rough, forceful, and I breathed hard after we broke apart.

Meg looked at me. "I am not kissing you."

"I'm not kissing you either, you-"

Michael shut me up with another kiss, his lips lingering on the side of my face even after it ended. "I'm gonna make you two get along," he whispered, pulling Meg up beside me so we all stood in a close triangle.

He left one arm around her waist and used the other to grip my hand and press it to the inside of her thigh, dragging it up along her smooth skin until I felt the mesh of her panties. She sighed deeply, craning her head back, and I let him rub my hand over her, feeling the weight of his fingers as we both touched her.

He let go after a second and reached up, expertly sliding his fingers under the straps of her dress to pull them off her shoulders. The fabric slipped down, uncovering her breasts, to which I immediately looked for the difference. One sat slightly lower than the other.

I felt myself squirm backward as she reached out and undid the button of my jeans with one hand. I knew with all my heart I did not want this, but I had no idea how to say, so I just stood there and trembled as she pulled my zipper down and slid her hand into my pants.

Michael looked up from where he stood pressed up behind her, his lips trailing her neck, and I watched the lust fade from his eyes as they met mine. "What's wrong?"

"I-" My voice cracked into a whimper. "I don't feel good." It wasn't a lie. I felt sick to my stomach.

He practically shoved Meg out of the way. "You don't feel good?" he murmured, suddenly all motherly. "Want some water? Wanna go sit down?"

"I wa-" I started, then choked on my words. I looked at Meg, biting on my lip. "Can you leave?"

"Are you fucking serious?" she shouted at me. She whipped her head around to glare at Michael. "He's making it up, you see that, right? He's just trying to get you to feel all bad for him and go hug him or something."

Michael looked at me, his eyes widening in sympathy. "You want a hug?" he asked, pulling me into his arms before I could respond. I breathed out slowly, melting into his embrace, and closed my eyes.

"Fuck you," said Meg. "Both of you." I didn't even look as she turned and stormed out of the room.

I glanced up at Michael, taking a deep breath. "I really didn't feel good," I said.

He broke into a smile. "But you're okay now?"

I nodded slyly.

"Wanna go upstairs?" he asked, his voice velvety soft. He looked so calm, while adrenaline was racing through my veins like lightning. "We'd be comfier."

I searched his eyes carefully, looking for any signs of disappointment. "You aren't mad? That Meg-"

"Just you is fine," he said. "I promise."

"Really?"

"Yes," he whispered, his lips brushing my cheek. "It'll be fun. I can do all the things with you a woman never could." He smirked. "Maybe the rest better."

"Oh?" I teased, leaning closer so our chests touched. I could feel the warmth of his body.