I stumble to pull the door shut and wedge off my trainers without losing touch. Joe unbuttons my printed shirt and shoves both it and my jacket off. It takes a group effort to manoeuvre me out of my turtleneck without snapping any of my necklaces. Once it's on the floor, I shove my glasses back on and bend to capture her mouth again but Joe holds me back.

She thumbs the barbells pierced through my nipples, her breathing thick with want. 'Just when I thought you couldn't get fitter...'

'I'm glad you approve.'

'Oh, I more than a–' Her sentence cuts off with a burst of giggles when I pick her up. Joe instinctively wraps her legs around my waist as I stumble deeper into her flat and realise it's not a studio.

'Left,' she says and kisses me again.

I push through the ajar door into a dark room, shuffling forward until my shins hit the side of the bed and I lower Joe onto it. She knocks into summat and jolts away from the kiss.

'Don't look at this!' Joe slams her MacBook shut and literally swipes the rest of the things off the bed: gel pens ricochet off the floor like a firework. At least one journal drops open. Her MacBook and its bamboo laptop tray are the only things she places on the floor with a semblance of care. 'I've totally not watched four series of Bake Off in the past three days. What? I've got mates and hobbies.'

Seizing a clicker from her nightstand, she presses a button and a neon light comes on—don't flicker or nowt, either. It's the shape of a rising—or setting—sun and appropriately bathes the room in an orange glow. She's got a remote for her fucking lights? I mean, I know her parents are dentists but–

That train of thought crashes into a wall when Joe grabs the waistband of my corduroy trousers.

'I'll do it.' Stepping back, I shove them down my thighs with my boxers.

Joe hums with appreciation as my erection springs free. 'Nice penis.'

'Uh, thanks.'

She tosses me an unopened packet of ribbed condoms. I grab one and tear the foil open with my teeth, though I have to pause in my urgency to place the box on her desk even if her floor is already covered in what might be every article of clothing she owns and she'd probably just throw it there with the rest of her shit.

'Very symmetrical.'

I glance down. 'I guess.'

Joe watches with a tilted head as I stroke myself, pausing to squeeze the head so I can maybe not come after one second, and roll the condom on. It's a classroom type of curiosity; I'm the lamb heart her teacher is about to dissect.

She must realise this because her stare is bashful when she finally tears it off my dick. 'Sorry, it's only that I've not seen a flesh penis since I was eighteen. It's a bit weird. Don't get me wrong! I honestly find it quite aesthetically pleasing. But also... weird.'

'You don't have to–'

'No, I want it inside me.'

That's all the invitation I need to move back to the bed. Joe has wormed out of her own jeans and sports bra and is now gloriously naked against the mountain of pillows. She don't have a headboard, which makes me feel slightly better, considering the sheer amount of things in this room. Good thing we came here and not my house or Joe would've probably turned around right at the door.

Good thing we came here or I'd never have seen her like this, a silhouette in the orange LED light. I nudge my glasses up my nose as I sit on my heels at the foot of the bed.

Where Joe rests on her pillow throne, her rounded belly and luscious thighs turn her into nowt short of a precolonial goddess. A goddess I will beg to worship. The golden glow highlights her dark skin, catching the glitter that has trickled from her eyelids even to her clavicle.

I have to close my eyes for a few breaths. And then I look at her again I almost want to hug her. And cry.

I only realise that I've stared enough for the heat to start fading from between our bodies when Joe nudges me with her toe. Like a dog on a collar, I crawl over her. My locs become a curtain. They, along with my necklaces, must tickle her, given the way they feather against her skin, but Joe voices no complaints. Instead, she tells me to kiss her. And so I do. The sweet taste of weed and the burn of alcohol have faded. All that's left to taste is her. And it's the most mint taste in fucking world.

The warmth returns, new sweat replacing that which has evaporated, but the heat goes deeper than my skin. It seeps in through my pores and settles like a ball of light somewhere between my lungs. And it gathers more light even when we drift apart.

Joe watches me with those calf eyes of hers. 'This is... casual?'

The question tears open the canyon.

'Totally. Hundred per cent.'

She smiles. Her swollen lips pout as they curve and though the sight makes my cock twitch, melancholy nips at the heels of my lust.

Correction: No, it doesn't. We'll have sex and it'll feel fucking amazing and it'll be enough and I won't fantasise about loving her and I won't have my heart broken. She's my friend: casual is the only way I should want her.

It's the only way she wants me.

'Casual,' I reiterate and lean in again.

It's like Aziat said: there's no potential in me as a long-term partner. But I've no shortage of potential as a good shag. So I bury my anxieties as deep underground as I can dig, focusing instead on the pleasure that blooms when Joe reciprocates the kiss, hard.

But she cuts it short. Joe props herself up on the pillows, the daze clearing from her face. 'It's much easier for me to come when I'm lying on my stomach. And I need clitoral stimulation or it's not happening—not with a single finger either, that doesn't feel good. Not side to side like you're scrubbing a stain. Circles. I liked what you did before with your palm; do more of that. Don't thrust too fast, not too slow either—I'll let you know. And you have to use a lot of lube because I don't produce a lot naturally.' She nods, pleased with her instructions. 'What about you?'

'Well, I've a johnny on–'

Joe stifles her laugh, shoving me so I shut up, and clarifies the question. 'What feels best for you?'

My eyebrows raise, my shock bordering on rude. She don't realise–?

'Anything.'

I'm grateful for the orange light because I blush in a way that must be the farthest thing you can get from sexy. 'It's not gonna be a struggle for me to come; I've spent a lot of time thinking about– um, thinking about sex generally, in general. And it's been twenty-two months. Cause I tried doing that "no casual" thing, didn't I? And folk don't wanna date me.'

Joe's shock bleeds into summat more depressing. 'I'm sure people want to date you.'

'They really don't... It's alright. I'm no good at it.'

Before Joe can turn this into a conversation—before Joe can decide that I'm actually too pathetic to even be worth the sex—I add. 'You can give me compliments if you like. But then I will last one minute. Which is fine cause I'm happy to use other things.'

I'm not sure Joe is listening to me. She traces my cluster of necklaces before her eyes find mine and she tucks locks behind my ear. 'You're so beautiful.'

'Oh...'

That wasn't the sort of compliment I was expecting. Pretty, sure. Fit, absolutely. But beautiful?

Joe's palms travel the backs of my arms, unbothered by the bumps on my skin there, then my abs, my chest. She thumbs my nipple piercings before she moves down again. Her fingertips command goosebumps onto my flesh as they dally down my happy trail.

I stop her before she reaches her destination but Joe moves away when I go to kiss her neck. 'Do you have difficulties receiving attention?'

'I hardly receive any. How could I have difficulties with it?'

Clearly she hears summat different than what I say because she inclines her head in displaced sympathy, rubbing my shoulder in a way that can only be intended as comforting. 'We'll unpack that when you're ready–'

'There's nowt to–'

'–Now, you're going turn me over and fuck me like a good boy.'

'Yep.'

I can do casual. I can have sex with her without catching feelings. People do it all the time! Maybe she's the kind of precolonial goddess who'll eat me once I've given her the only thing someone like could offer to someone like her. It would be well merciful, honestly. And if she don't swallow me whole, the agony will. But it'll be worth it for the feeling of being inside her once.

As instructed, I turn her onto her stomach. Joe slides a pillow under her hips, creating a speed bump with her body, and– fuck. I cup her vulva but before I can start, Joe smacks the bottle of lube into my bicep.

'But–'

'Sooner rather than later.'

I consider arguing but who the fuck am I kidding? I'd rather eat my arm than argue with orders. So I take the lube, lathering it onto both me and her, and ease inside.

I'm totally enthusiastic about this whole heartbreak thing, really. I always get over it, don't I? This will dead be worth it, regardless of what me from this summer or five hours ago thought.

'Move.' The command is almost pained.

'Please give me a second.'

I wait for the stars scattering my vision to disperse only for them to burst anew with each thrust, as slow as I keep them. Though I have to move faster because she tells me to. At this point, I'm not seeing nowt anyway so I take off my glasses before they bend and blindly place them on the floor. Joe bites my forearm and the thought of the tooth marks on my skin nearly makes me unravel right then.

With my free hand, I take hers. Prying her index and middle finger apart, I slot our hands where our bodies meet.

The additional stimulation shoves me right to the edge.

And it must do the same for her because she drags in a breath. It rattles against my forearm. She trembles as I press the top of her palm against her clitoris. She don't need much guidance to start grinding into her hand, trapped in place by mine, and the movement sends waves of pleasure all the way to my toes. Then she grinds faster and there's no hope for me.

'Joe-'

'That feels perfect.'

This is all I need to fall. I think I see the neurotransmitters fire in my brain like fireworks against the backs of my eyes.

Joe continues to grind against our hands and I pull out of her only to slide my fingers inside, elbowing back the relaxation of my orgasm until she arrives at hers. And when she does... well, it's good I don't see her face or I'd probably already be in love with her. Which I am not because this were casual sex between mates.

I wait for her to stop grinding, to slacken like her spine has dissolved before I roll off her and, as though she's glued to me with sweat, she turns with me. We lie on our backs to stare at the ceiling.

Until she cranes her neck to look at me, a grin slowly spreading on her mouth. 'You have no idea how bad I needed that.'

'I think I've a vague idea.'

Sleep is far too quick to weigh on my eyelids; I can't even catch my breath before I'm pinching my thigh to stay awake. Joe must be in a similar state because she worms under the duvet, manoeuvring it over me as well so she can nuzzle into my side. Her skin is still sticky from sweat and lube and come. I battle the urge to pass out as quickly as she does.

'Don't you want me to leave?'

'It's raining outside.'

As though breaking a spell, the moment she says it, my brain registers the sound of the rain. It pours, hammering against the window, but for all its might, it can't penetrate her flat. In my house, we'd definitely not be sleeping naked unless we wanted to wake up with frostbite.

That's all. Joe don't wanna throw me out into the rain at five am. She's a good person and I'm her friend and she don't wanna throw me out into the rain at five am. It don't mean owt. Don't: Get ahead of yourself.

I pull the condom off but even I'm too tired to find her bin so I tie it off before lowering it to a clear bit of floor (which there is not a lot of). Reaching over her to turn off the neon sunset light, I pull Joe tighter against me. She's already asleep, snoring lightly against my chest.

After months of wanting her, the feelings aren't fading. Why aren't they fading? These were meant to be sex chemicals. I were meant to get rid of them by having sex with her. They were definitely not meant to be rooting into my ribs with a ticklish caress, the ball of light an afternoon sun in my chest. 

Caleb is going to kill me.