Casey was a snorer. Ishaana hadn't noticed it last time but when she woke up on the first of March, greeting the new month with a yawn and a squint, the gentle rumble of his breaths welcomed her to the day. He lay on his front beside her, pressed against the cool wall, and his dirty blonde hair was splayed over his face, obscuring the dreaming flicker of his eyelids. In the light, he looked younger than she knew he was: though he was twenty-three, three years older than her, he looked eighteen as he slept, his back rising and falling with each steady breath. For a moment, she lay on her back with her hands crossed over her stomach, listening to the snores that didn't seem to bother her. They were predictable and oddly soothing, and she stared at the ceiling as she wondered what would happen when he awoke.

He would probably leave straight away. That was what she hoped, at least. They had hardly spoken, despite the two nights they had spent together, and Ishaana was quite content to keep it that way: something about the air of mystery turned her on, and she knew that attraction would fade if she ever knew too much about him. She didn't care about his hopes and fears; she didn't want to hear about his family; she wasn't even bothered about his music. Her interest in him really was only skin deep, and she hoped the feeling was mutual. Any deeper, and things started to get personal.

There was a soft knock on the door and she turned her cheek against the pillow, saying nothing. That was Melody's cue to creep in, poking her head through the gap. Her eyes flickered over Casey before returning to Ishaana's, and she wore a friendly smile on her bare lips. Melody had a natural beauty that needed no make-up, with radiantly clear skin and long eyelashes and the most enchanting shade of rich auburn hair.

"Hey," she whispered, her fingers curled around the door. "Want a cuppa?"

Ishaana nodded and pulled her duvet up around her chest, though Casey was hogging most of it. "I'll come out," she said. "Let me put something on."

Melody disappeared, padding down to the kitchen, and Ishaana slipped out of bed as quietly as she could, pulling on underwear before she found a jumper and a pair of leggings and once she had unplugged her phone, she left Casey to sleep. It was almost ten o'clock, but they had stayed up late as they had pushed each other's boundaries until he had given in first: he couldn't continue after he came on Ishaana's stomach with a grunt and collapsed on top of her, utterly drained after two hours of teasing each other.

Cracking her back, Ishaana sidled over to Melody and crossed her ankles, arms folded as she leant against the counter. "How was your night?" she asked, and her friend laughed.

"Oh, no, you don't get to ask that first," Melody said, her eyes dancing with a million shades of blue and grey, flecks of silver jumping out of the waves of her irises. "You have a sexy singer sleeping in your bed right now. I'm the one with the questions." The kettle whistled when it boiled and she took it off, filling two mugs until the teabags bobbed on top of the water. She poked them with a spoon, infusing the fruit leaves that seeped red swirls like a bloodbath, and handed one to Ishaana. "Sit your butt down."

Ishaana did as she was told. She dropped onto the sofa and pulled her feet up under herself, sitting sideways when Melody took the space next to her. Dunking her teabag with the tip of her finger, she watched as the water deepened from pale pink to crimson and the scent of raspberry and cranberry rose in plumes. Closing her eyes, she inhaled it for a moment until she heard the snap of a finger and thumb and looked up to see Melody's hand right in front of her face.

"So? Are you going to tell me?" She widened her eyes, her glasses slipping down her nose a little, and she pushed them back up with the back of her wrist, sloshing a drop of tea onto her pyjamas. "What happened? How'd it go?"

Ishaana shrugged and blew on her tea, watching as the steam scurried away from her lips. "There's not much to say. We had a drink. He said I looked hot. And I did. I'm pretty sure he would have happily gone to town on me right then and there, in the booth," she said with a laugh, her breath rippling the surface of her revitalising tea. Melody's eyes boggled, her lips parting.

"Oh, God, you didn't have sex in the bar, did you?"

"Says you, fucking in the back of a taxi!" Ishaana cried, almost spilling her tea as she laughed. "No, we didn't fuck in the bar. He's a gentleman: he waited until we got to the alley to finger me."

Melody didn't react for a moment as she tried to figure out whether or not Ishaana was joking, and a couple of seconds passed before she gasped. "Holy fuck, you're not kidding, are you? He fingered you in an alley?"

With a grin at the memory, Ishaana nodded. "Hot as fuck, Mel, I'm telling you. You already know that, though. I don't think anyone was around, but I kinda like the idea that someone was."

Stifling a giggle, Melody sipped her tea and shook her head. "God, you're a terror. I love it, and I love you, but you're so bad. Oh my God, Ishy. I take it the rest of the night went well?"

With a confident nod, Ishaana pulled her lips between her teeth, slowly smiling. "Very well," she mused, bringing her mug to her lips.

"To be honest, Pea and I weren't that late back. Pretty sure I heard you guys going at it at, like, one in the morning. Surprised you had anything left in you," Melody said. She pulled her knees up to her chest and balanced her mug on top.

"I'm always good to go," Ishaana said. "I came, like, six times. In two hours. Seven, if you include the alley fingering, though that would move us to the three hour bracket."

If Melody's eyebrows climbed any higher, they would have met her hairline, forcing wrinkles into her forehead as her mouth gaped and she almost knocked her tea off her knees. "Seven times? Jesus Christ, Ishy, you must be sore."

Snorting, she tilted her head to one side and held her mug in both hands, resting it against her chin. "Only a bit. And only because he's rough. Relentless."

"Just the way you like it," Melody said. A grin licked Ishaana's lips.

"Just the way I like it."

Casey was still asleep when Ishaana's phone buzzed on the table, grabbing her attention halfway through a mouthful of toast that Melody had made her. Expecting to see her sister's name on the screen, it took a moment to register the text that had popped into her inbox. The contact at the top of the message with no preview said cdsety, though she knew he was still upstairs: there was no way out of the house, unless he had jumped out of a window.

"Who's that?" Melody asked. The two had lived out of each other's pockets for almost two years, the question standard when either of them were on the phone.

"Casey, apparently," Ishaana said, pursing her lips in confusion as she unlocked her phone, and her face cleared.

"He's very formal," Ishaana said, and it was Melody's turn to frown.

"Who, Casey?" she asked as she made her second cup of tea, though Ishaana had declined a refill. She poured another mug anyway, knowing that Pearl would be down soon. "Isn't he, like, upstairs? Or does he possess the power of teleportation?"

"It's Bishop." She held up the phone for Melody to squint at the screen before she typed out her address in response to Bishop, the message shooting off into space. "I'm guessing he'll be over to fetch Casey."

It wasn't long before her prediction came true: ten minutes later, by which time Pearl had emerged from her room but there was still no sign of the man who had occupied Ishaana's bed last night, there was the sound of an engine outside the front door and then a rap of the knocker. Ishaana answered, shamelessly dressed in a pair of leggings that sagged around her ankles after years of wearing them out, and a jumper that was several sizes too big.

"Hey, Bishop," she said, opening the door a little wider to let him in. He stood awkwardly on the doorstep, peering into the house over her shoulder, and she nodded towards the kitchen. "Come in."

"Is Casey here?"

"Yup," she said, nodding, "but he's flat out. Want a drink? Tea, coffee?"

He looked a little stunned, as though the question was a mentally taxing one, before he said, "Um, ok. Yes. Ok. Coffee would be good. Thanks, Ishy."

"No problemo." She sloped into the kitchen, leading the way, and passed two slightly perturbed housemates who shared a sofa and matching positions, each holding their mug halfway to their lips. "My flatmates, Mel and Pearl," she said, indicating each, and Bishop lifted his hand in an awkward wave. "This is Bishop. Casey's bandmate."

"Oh," Pearl said, innocent eyebrows high as she hid her shocked 'O' of a mouth with her mug. "I don't think I've even met Casey. Have you?" She turned to Melody, who had a twinkle in her eye.

"Not officially," she said, "though when I've had a drink or two, I get confused between my door and Ishy's."

Ishaana snorted a laugh. She had thought she'd heard something last night, though she had been too busy occupied with Casey between her thighs to care much if Melody saw anything. By that point, she had been so far gone that she wouldn't have cared if her friend had got involved. "Anyway," she said, turning to Bishop, "how d'you take your coffee?"

"White. No sugar," he said. "I'm really sorry to barge in on you. It's just that I couldn't get hold of Casey this morning and last night, all he said was that he was meeting you but then you guys didn't come back to the hotel. I figured he might have come home with you."

"He did indeed," she said, spooning coffee into two mugs, deciding to make one for herself. It would wake her up a little more, something she needed after the busy night she'd had. Melody's fruit tea was delicious, but it had a severe lack of caffeine.

"Hey," Pearl piped up, standing. "I'm gonna go to my room. Mel? Coming up?"

Melody's curiosity lingered on Ishaana for a moment before she gave in, standing with Pearl to give their friend a little space to talk to Bishop, and perhaps to see what was up with the other half of the band, somewhere upstairs. With a sigh, she finished her tea. "See you later," she said to Ishaana, following Pearl upstairs.

Bishop glanced around the open plan kitchen, which stretched out into a narrow living room that filled the width of the terraced house. "This is a sweet setup you've got going on," he said as Ishaana filled his mug and rooted in the fridge for the milk. She and her housemates had slipped into the habit of sharing the duties of necessary foods, taking it in turns to buy milk, bread and butter. "You're a student, right?"

"That's me."

"What year? What're you studying?"

She raised her eyebrows at him again, teasing in her irises. "You trying to get the lowdown again?" she asked. "Glad to say I'm not as hungover as last time." She remembered stumbling into the bathroom at six o'clock with a pounding headache, downing a glass of water and two painkillers before stumbling back to bed. It had done the trick.

"Sorry," he said, retreating as he took his mug. "I was just interested. I didn't mean to pry."

"I'm teasing you," she said. "Yes, I'm a student. Second year, studying politics. Which, as it turns out, is not as interesting as I was led to believe."

Bishop smiled, taking a sip of his coffee even though it was still too hot. "Politics, huh? That's cool, that's cool. You want to be a politician? Member of parliament?"

"God, no." She wrinkled her nose, stirring her own coffee and adding a little extra milk. The taste had grown on her over the years, ever since she had started drinking it at the age of fifteen, but she still preferred a latte to a flat white, the milk diluting the strength of the ground beans. "I don't know what I want to do. I just liked politics at school." She shrugged. "It made sense. You?"

Bishop shook his head. "I don't want to be a politician," he said, and she rolled her eyes.

"I meant, did you go to uni?"

"I know," he said, eyeing her up. "I was joking. Like last time. I was trying to be funny. Maybe I'll save the jokes for when you're a bit less hungover."

With a short laugh, Ishaana gulped her coffee. "I'm not hungover. You're just really deadpan. It's kind of hard to tell when you're joking. You're kinda serious."

Bishop pressed his lips together, curling both hands around his mug. "So I've been told," he mused, speaking slowly. "And yeah, I graduated a couple of years ago."

"Get your degree in stand-up?" she asked, one eyebrow raised, and Bishop gave her a low chuckle in response, letting his shoulder drop in a half-hearted shrug.

"Something like that," he murmured, sipping his drink. "So, what's the situation here? Are you and Casey dating?"

For a moment, she just eyed him, the slightest furrow denting her forehead. "No," she said, hoping he hadn't got that impression from Casey, hoping that she hadn't given that impression to Casey. "We're fucking. You guys are bandmates; I figured you'd know that."

He shook his head, dark eyes lingering on Ishaana as they seemed to revel in every facet of her. She became aware of her loose hair, tucking it behind her ears and trying not to shift her gaze away from him until he did it first. After a few seconds, he glanced away. "For a singer, Casey's not much of a talker."

"You can say that again," Ishaana said with a laugh, resting her hip against the counter. "Not that I'm complaining. But I'd be hard pressed to tell you much about him." She held up her hand before he could interrupt. "Please don't say anything to spoil that illusion."

"You like the mystery, huh?" He quirked his eyebrows at her, irises glittering, and the slightest smile twitched at the corners of his lips. "Don't worry, I won't ruin it. That's just how he is. He's a man of few words."

"Mmm." Ishaana smiled. She liked that. One thing she hated was to get bogged down in conversation, wasting words on someone whose opinion she didn't care for when all she wanted was for someone to share her bed, to use her body for all it was worth. The less Casey said to ruin the arrangement they had slipped into, the better. Fewer words, she reasoned, meant fewer feelings. "And you're not?"

Bishop shrugged. "Not in the same way," he said. "Different folks, different strokes."

His choice of words sent a mildly unwanted image skittering into Ishaana's brain and she banished it before she could dwell too hard on the vision, before it could show on her cheeks.

A few minutes passed, seconds slowly dragging themselves by before there was a creak of the floorboards and then the sound of uncertain feet on the steps that groaned beneath the weight of a person. A moment later, a bedheaded Casey appeared in the doorway in last night's clothes, discombobulated by the sight of his bandmate in Ishaana's kitchen.

"Bishop?" he asked, stepping closer with an uneven walk. Last night's few drinks seemed to have gone straight to his head, the aftereffects kicking in once he'd fallen asleep, and now he struggled to walk in a straight line. "What're you doing here?"

Bishop held out his friend's phone, and Casey took it with a frown. "I couldn't reach you. I've been trying to find you since nine. I figured you might be here."

Ishaana glanced at the clock on the wall, which had fresh batteries in it for once. After months of ignoring it, Pearl had eventually snapped and made sure every potential time-telling device in the house said the same thing. It was quarter past eleven now, and Casey had only just awoken.

He looked a little pissed, his eyes darkening as he frowned at his friend, though his comparative shortness lessened the blow of his glare. "Well, shit, Bishop, no need to parent me," he said, stuffing his phone into his pocket. "I'm a big boy."

Ishaana hid a smirk. She knew that alright. She held her mug in both hands, covering her mouth when she sensed that it wasn't an appropriate moment to snort a chuckle.

Bishop didn't seem too fazed by Casey's automatic defensiveness, though he didn't make an effort to stand up for himself. "We had to be out of the hotel by eleven. I packed up the car. We need to head up to Newcastle. We can grab lunch on the way."

Casey still wore an irritated frown. He ran his hand through his scruffy hair, and he eventually nodded, saying nothing to Bishop before he turned to Ishaana. "We've got a gig in Birmingham in a couple of weeks," he said. "Fourteenth of March. Same time, same hotel."

There was no question but his insinuation was strong and Ishaana was no fool. Folding her arms, she shifted her weight onto one hip and she nodded. "I'll be there."

He gave her a loose smile. "See you then."

There was no kiss. Sober kisses were for couples, something Ishaana had no intention of entering into, and she made no move to even reach towards him as they arranged their next meeting. It was simple. She wanted to sleep with him; he wanted to sleep with her. That was all there was to it.

"Sorry about barging in on you," Bishop said. He finished off his coffee and she took the mug from him, leaving it in the sink along with a couple of others. "See you around, Ishy."

She smiled at him. "See you around."

A minute later, they were gone, and she let out a sigh as she headed for the stairs, dragging herself up to the first floor. Taking a wild guess, she pushed open Pearl's door first to see both of her flatmates inside, engrossed in deep conversation. Pearl sat cross-legged at one end of her bed while Melody lay across it, her head in Pearl's lap.

"Hey there, you little minx," she said with a wicked grin, sitting up straight. Ishaana dropped onto the end of Pearl's bed and lay back with a groan. "So, you gonna tell us everything?"

"What is there to say? I already told you about last night," she said, crossing her arms behind her head, and she looked up at Pearl. "Well, I didn't tell you yet."

Pearl wrinkled her nose. "I don't think I want to know. You do you, Ishy, but I don't need the details."

"What about Bishop?" Melody leant over Ishaana, looking down at her through lenses that magnified her eyes to a new level of magnificence. "He seems nice. And hot."

Ishaana snorted. "What would you know?"

"Hey!" Melody cried out. "Just because I don't eat the cake doesn't mean I don't know it'll be fucking delicious. And I bet he'd be one tasty wedge of sponge." She moved her finger in a circle around her friend's face. "I think you're fucking the wrong bandmate."

"Ha! No, I'm good, Mel. Casey suits me just fine."

Pearl pouted. "Bishop seems like a nice guy, though," she said. "He came over here just to collect Casey? That's sweet! He's a nice guy."

"Exactly," Ishaana said. "He's nice. He's too nice." Shaking her head, she closed her eyes and let out a long sigh through her nose. "Nice guys make bad fuck buddies."

"And good boyfriends," Melody said, as though the sentence needed completing. Ishaana scoffed, stretching her legs up and pointing her toes at the ceiling.

"No, thanks," she said with a dry laugh. "How many times do I have to tell you I don't want a boyfriend?" She opened her eyes, looking up at both of her friends.

"Maybe once more," Melody said, a twinkle in her grin.

"I don't want a boyfriend. I want a fuck buddy. I want someone I can have sex with, no strings attached. I know what to expect from Casey. It's a good arrangement. When he's around, we fuck."

Pearl winced at Ishaana's bluntness. She wasn't a prude, something that shone through whenever she drank a little, but she didn't understand the appeal of sex that had no prospect of becoming a relationship, or even the prospect of having sex outside of a relationship. No matter what she said, it would take several dates with someone whose company she enjoyed for her to take things further than a kiss.

"Are you seeing him again?" she asked, and Ishaana nodded. It would be easy to get herself to Birmingham in a couple of weeks, especially if she made sure she had her phone and her money on her at all times. It would be too embarrassing to rely on Bishop to dole her out again, as though she relied on the band for sex and cash and nothing else. Cash didn't come into it: she had no intention of prostituting herself out to Casey, promising herself that she would buy the drinks next time.

"On the fourteenth," she said. "He'll be in Birmingham."

Melody wore a look of utter scepticism. "Is it really a fuck buddy kinda situation if you guys arrange your dates? I thought this kind of arrangement was supposed to be more like a booty call," she said. "Sounds like you've scheduled a date."

Ishaana snorted and whacked her friend's knee. "No, shut up, it's not a date," she said with a laugh. "I swear to God, Mel, if you go on about this much more then, I don't know, screw you."

Melody laughed and spread out her arms to show off her body. "You're welcome, my dear, sweet Ishy. You can fish in this pond anytime, baby."

"Guys," Pearl said, shaking her head. As much as she tried, it was difficult for her to wrap her head around Ishaana's and Melody's overtly sexual friendship that had never been anything but teasing. "But really, Ishy, you've arranged to see him in two weeks? That sounds like a date."

Ishaana wrinkled her nose and rolled onto her front, propping herself up on her elbows and resting her chin in her hands. "It really isn't, Pea, I promise you. That's just when he's next nearby."

"Birmingham's a hundred miles away," Pearl said slowly, her hands deftly untangling a knot in her hair. "You're willing to go a hundred miles for sex?"

Ishaana grinned, her eyes flickering from Melody to Pearl. "A hundred miles for a night of guaranteed sex with someone who already knows exactly how to make me come?" Her eyes danced, her toes curling at the thought. "Fuck yes."

+ - + - +

sorry about the delay! i had a lot of family commitments this weekend but here is chapter 6 at last. i hope you liked it!