Ade's eyes needled into the back of Miriam's skull. A pressure built in their wake; an ache Miriam couldn't shake. Then again, she didn't want to because it meant everything was going to plan. He was two close calls away from exploding, and if that wouldn't push him over the edge, Miriam was sure a sceptical comment from Ryan would do the trick. All she needed was to get him down here.

Before she could concoct an adequate plan, her phone buzzed. She excused herself, leaving Brandon to re-join the game, and shuffled to a dimly lit corner.

Wes:

upstairs now

Miriam:

are you alright???

Yes

Miriam pocketed her phone and headed towards the centre of the room. She placed a hand on Ade's forearm and rolled onto her tiptoes, lips brushing against his ear. "I'm going to the bathroom," she whispered.

He turned, pinning her with a curious stare. "Again?"

"Accidently broke the seal," she said with a shrug. "I should've held out longer."

"Rookie mistake."

"I'll be right back." She stepped past and ran up the stairs, crashing through the crowd and legging it upstairs. Wes was waiting on the landing, phone in hand. He slotted it into his back pocket, latched a hand around her wrist, and yanked, dragging her straight into the nearest room which happened to be Ade's, complete with a neatly made bed and small black suitcase squashed in the leftmost corner.

"Sit," Wes said, pointing at the bed.

"I'm not in the mood for—"

"Just fucking sit down."

Miriam swallowed a sigh and perched on the edge of the bed, crossing her legs at the ankle while Wes began to pace. Up and down he went, shaking his head, nostrils flared, until he came to an abrupt stop in front of her. "What are you playing at?" he asked.

Miriam blinked. "Excuse me?"

"What are you playing at?" he repeated himself. "With Ade. One minuet you're all over him, the next you're letting Brandon chat you up."

"It's harmless fun." Miriam began to stand, but Wes shot her a menacing glare that forced her to sit back down.

"You said Ade made you happy," he hissed.

Miriam's head jerked back. "I did no such thing," she said.

Wes' head jerked back like a turtle scurrying into its shell. "Yes, you did," he said. "In the car. Yesterday."

"You asked if Ade could make me happy, not if he's actually making me happy."

"So he isn't?" Wes asked.

"Isn't what?" Miriam muttered.

"Making you happy." He threw his hands in the air. "Fucking hell Miriam, why are you making this so difficult?"

"I don't know Wesley," she bit back.

He cringed from his name, whole body shaking, and sat beside her, his aura softening slightly. "Is he making you happy?" he asked again, gaze so intense Miriam was surprised it didn't burn a hole straight through her forehead.

"Ade?" she said, buying herself time.

"Yes. Is Ade making you happy?"

Silence settled between them, interrupted by the sounds of the party below. But in there, in that room, Ade's room, a sort of sanctity wrapped around the pair, bringing the truth closer to the surface.

"Why does it matter?" Miriam whispered, her voice doing very little to slash through the reverential air.

"Because it does?" Wes said.

"But why?" she pushed. "You've never cared before. Not once. And now, all of a sudden, it bothers you."

"Yeah, it does."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Because it just does," he shouted.

Miriam flinched.

"It just does," he repeated in a lower voice. "It shouldn't, I know it shouldn't, but it does because of all the people in the world, Ade deserves you least."

"And Brandon?" Miriam stifled a laugh.

"That's my point," Wes said. "Neither of them deserve you."

"So who does?" Miriam asked, fearing the answer was nobody.

Wes took a deep breath and stood up.

"Surely someone is worthy of my time," Miriam teased, lightening the mood which, for a second, had been suffocating, but was now as biting as a brisk winter's breeze instead.

"Nobody is worth your time." Wes managed to let out a breath which almost passed for a laugh. Miriam couldn't help but smile as it bloomed into the real thing. "Remember that guy?" he asked. "Your flatmate from first year?"

"Shawn," Miriam said. Wes nodded. "What about him?" she asked.

"He was worth it," he said. "He was actually kind, which is more than I can say for any other guy you've met."

"You're kind," Miriam said.

"That's different." Wes shook his head almost pityingly. "We've known each other so long."

"It doesn't change the fact that you're a good guy."

"I'm—"

"You are a good guy, Wes." Sincerity dripped off Miriam's words in fat, healthy globules. "You do my laundry, and you cook me dinner and you never forget to check in. Even when we argue, you're always the first to say sorry. Honestly, you're probably the best guy I know."

"And yet here you are spending time with the likes of Adedayo."

Miriam stilled. Perhaps Abi had been onto something. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"Nothing." Wes' voice was too bright, the complete opposite to his earlier deprecation.

"It's not nothing," Miriam said, "so spit it out."

"Honestly, don't stress."

"Just tell me. I feel like there are too many secrets between us."

Wes scoffed. "Like that's my fault," he said.

He had a point; Miriam hated that he had a point.

"Okay," she said, turning and crossing her legs. "Let's play a game."

"What game?" he asked.

"A truth for your truth," she said with heaps of undeserved confidence.

"You fully just made that up," he snorted.

"Like it matters." She slapped his bicep. "Let's play."

"Okay?" Wes turned and crossed his legs too. "What are the rules?"

"Every truth I give, you have to give one in return," Miriam explained.

"Simple," he grinned. "Why don't you start?"

She hadn't expected that, but then Wes did love to throw her in the deep end, so she cleared her throat and said, "Ade doesn't make me happy."

Wes closed his eyes for a full five seconds. "And I'm here why?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Miriam shrugged. That, unfortunately, was a truth she just couldn't tell. "It's your turn," she said instead.

"I didn't actually sleep with that girl from the pub," he said. "She didn't even end up staying the night?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Miriam seethed. "I stayed in my room for hours thinking you two were out doing couple shit in the flat."

"I would never bring a girl home," Wes said, "not really. Your turn."

"Brandon doesn't make me happy either," Miriam said. "You know, just in case you were wondering. He's just—"

"Fun to flirt with?" Wes asked.

"Yeah." That and he was the perfect pawn in her now derailed plan. "You go."

Something shifted and Wes leaned forward. Miriam could make out the black flecks in his otherwise brown eyes, the way they swirled counterclockwise, drawing her into their impossible puzzle. She could see the scar in his left eyebrow, a faint white line from a skateboarding accident when they were thirteen, and the beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. She reached out and brushed them away, then dabbed her damp hand on the bedspread.

"Truth?" Wes said, voice hoarse. "I really want to kiss you right now."

Ten minutes ago, a thousand questions might've rushed through Miriam's mind as she toyed with the idea until it snapped in half and splintered, leaving her a dithering mess. But in that moment, right there, eyes locked with his, Miriam didn't question anything and said, "I really want you to kiss me right now."

A slow smile, teasing in its width, stretched across Wes' face. He pushed forward and closed the gap between them, mouth hot against hers. The kiss was slow, subtle, savoured. Her hands curled around the base of his neck while his sunk into the fleshy plane of her waist, fingertips pressing in and out in the most delicious of rhythms. Where others would've snuck some tongue, upping the anti, he was content for their mouths to move languidly, breath mingling, hands exploring, hearts exploding.

Eventually, after what felt like a glorious eternity, they pulled back, just a touch, foreheads pressed together as their eyes fluttered open.

"I—"

"Don't ruin it," Wes whispered.

"But—"

He kissed her again. This time it was dirty, quick, rushing through the pleasantries to the main event. They fell sideways, and their bodies unfurled as the memory foam mattress caught them. Miriam hooked a leg around Wes' hip, grinding slowly against his knee as his hand travelled up her thigh, around her arse and settled somewhere beneath her breasts. Meanwhile, his mouth left hers, a trail of featherlight kisses marking their way from her lips, down her jaw, straight to the hallow of her neck.

A moan, soft and pleading escaped, and Wes chuckled. "More?" he whispered against her skin.

"More," she said. It probably wasn't the best idea, who knew what would be left of their friendship, but they were here and she couldn't stop, couldn't miss out on this moment. A moment, she realised as he kissed the space just above the valley between her breasts, she'd always wanted.

She sat up and shrugged off her top, thankful that she'd decided to wear her date bra. Although, when she thought about it, Wes had already seen all her ratty bras, so she wasn't too sure it mattered either way. He nipped at her nipple through the sheer black lace, and sucked, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. "Fuck," she hissed between whimpers.

Wes laughed, the sound vibrating against her chest, and steadily migrated back north until he reached her lips once again and drew her as close as humanly possible. Miriam arched her leg higher and let a hand wander until it felt an unquestionably hard length straining against Wes' jeans. She giggled into his mouth and tugged down the zipper, hand delving in until she managed to stroke a fingertip over him and swallow his groans greedily, begging for more with each teasing touch.

He pulled back an inch and nipped her bottom lip. "You're killing me, Mer," he whispered.

She slid her leg off his thigh and focused and pulling down his jeans, boxers and all, until his erection sprung free. For a moment, Miriam feared she'd forgotten what to do. She had, after all, only done it with one other person years before, and yet she still sured up her wavering confidence with a wicked smile and kissed down Wes' chest.

"You don't have to do this," he breathed.

"I want to."

"Honestly, I don't—"

"Shh," Miriam whispered against his penis. It twitched beside her mouth, and she smiled. She'd always loved this, the power, the way a man came undone from your touch and your touch alone. And yet, just as she was about to peel him apart, seam by seam, he managed to flip them, pressing her to the bed and parting her thighs, skirt pooled around her waist, underwear somewhere on the floor. He then pressed a hand to her stomach and kissed her thigh.

"My turn first," he said, inching closer. "I have, after all, been waiting the longest."

His kisses stretched, drawing out his descent until he gifted her with the first, mind numbing lick. It thrummed through her, stomach clenching tight in anticipation of the next and the next until Wes reached a steady rhythm which built nicely upon itself. Miriam squirmed and writhed, fistfuls of the duvet clutched in her hand as he clamped down on her clitoris and sucked almost as if it was a peach stone in desperate need of cleaning.

"Fuck," she said, hips bucking. "Don't stop."

Wes took it as a challenge and redoubled his efforts tenfold. His other hand crept into action, offering two fingers which entered Miriam in a slow drawl. She clenched down on them, moaning, and circled her hips as he began pumping in and out of her in quick, short strokes.

What had lapped against her, soft and slow, became frantic, begging for release. Her hands found Wes' head. They clamped down and kept him there, urging him on until the wave broke and her thighs took over, tight and tense, trembling aftershocks unlocking her limbs.

"That was." Her voice hung in the balance, mesmerised and foggy.

"I know," Wes said, inching upwards.

"I didn't—"

"I know." He placed a careful kiss on her mouth and hovered above. Smiling down at her while she caught her breath.

"Thanks," she whispered.

He simply laughed and kissed her again, her hand returning to his erection while he held her face in place. "We," he said between kisses, "are doing this all backwards."

"And yet it feels so right."

"Yes, but you have to know that I—"

"I do," she said.

He smiled and they kissed again. While their tongues danced against one another, Miriam began considering how to get him right where she wanted him. Unfortunately, just as she settled on a battle plan the door opened. "Get off her," Ade roared. 

***

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