Morning hit Micah hard and fast and sent him waking with a jolt. He was constricted by his bedsheets pinning him to the mattress, and it was only once he sat up that he discovered that he'd been completely tucked in, the rest of the bed empty and perfectly made.

Micah teetered, bedhead and all, off to the side. He collapsed onto his pillow and groaned with great contempt, "Asshole..."

Reality trudged in with its great big moving boxes to set up shop in Micah's conscience. It was one thing to tell a guy he wasn't interested in dating, only to then be accused of being a tease. He could live with that mark on his character. He could not live with a character-ending flaw like fucking his best friend's brother.

He slapped his hands over his face once, twice, and thrice for good measure. What was he thinking? What was he thinking? What was he thinking?!

Alistair hadn't left a note, but in the post-climax haze, they'd talked the weekend through. He, like Benny and Erika, had Saturday and Sunday shifts: Micah, at the bar; Erika, at the thrift store; and Benny, at convenience store. Their jobs were within a one-block radius of the apartment, but also meant they wouldn't be spending the evening with Alistair on either days.

"That's fine," Alistair had said, "I have dinner with coworkers on Sunday, and tomorrow—or should I say today?—I'll be too exhausted to do a thing."

And thus, it was concluded that their one night stand would remain as such: a one night stand.

At the time, Micah had enough energy to clean up and make himself somewhat decent to fetch Alistair towels to clean with. He'd dampened a warm cloth under the sink, wrung it out, and returned to his room to find Alistair lounging on his side, his elegant back to the door.

Micah had stood there and openly stared at the wings on Alistair's shoulder blades. At his tapered waist, foliage swept up and around his dimples of Venus. A half-finished tattoo was on one asscheek, and his otherwise bare ass gave his skin the distinct impression of assless chaps.

Micah had snorted at the thought, which prompted Alistair to turn onto his back and say, "Are you laughing at my ass? I'm working on it, prick."

And now, awake, Micah could acknowledge that they'd both had a serious lapse in judgement to have slept together. Granted, it had been incredible, Alistair's body was irresistible to Micah, and he'd even gotten away with spitting (secondhand) into Alistair's mouth.

But it would never happen again.

There was too much at stake. For one, Micah still needed to compose a thoughtful and gentle way to break the news to Benny that Micah had fucked Alistair.

Sooner the better, he told himself as he got up for the day with a low groan. A familiar band of muscles beneath his glutes and inner thighs was sore, and everywhere else was still warm like he'd had a decent workout the night before bed.

Erika and Benny were back, though Erika's room was closed and her "SLEEPING. FUCK OFF." signs were turned forward. The 'FUCK OFF' sign was an indicator that she had company and to not disturb them.

Once in the kitchen, Micah realized what had woken him: the sound of a fresh batch of coffee being brewed by none other than an exhausted and shitty looking Benny.

"Hey," Benny said, stuffy. His eyes were pink.

Last he'd seen, Benny was getting betrothed or something. Whatever the case, crying definitely wasn't on Micah's post-midnight bingo card.

"What the fuck happened?" he said, knowing that the moment he did, Benny would burst into tears all over again.

And so he did. Benny's bottom lip wavered, eyes screwing up. Micah crossed the kitchen to squeeze Benny to him. He knew for a fact that, when in distress, Benny preferred to be suffocated either by a weighted blanket or by a person. So that was what Micah did with all his might.

"You need to eat first," Micah said, giving Benny's hair a ruffle as they parted. He went for the cabinet, fetched cereal and two bowls, and set to work.

"Not hungry."

"I don't give a fuck. Eat."

Benny miserably ate while Micah picked up where Benny left off with the coffee. Only once Benny's stomach was full could he fathom coherent sentences.

He took a deep, calming breath and let out a hoarse laugh. "Okay, I feel better. I was just overreacting."

"Well, now I wanna know."

Benny's lip trembled, slightly, grimacing, but he managed to say, "I really didn't want to sleep with her last night, you know?"

Micah's shoulders slumped. It was deja vu all over again, and it was agony to Benny's hopelessly romantic heart. "You didn't..."

Benny floundered, arms out. "I don't know how it happened! I even told her: I'm not the kind of guy to sleep with a girl on a first date! And we haven't even gone on a proper date yet. I wanted to take her to the roller rink in Brooklyn next weekend. We talked until, like, four in the morning. And then—And then she came onto me and—and oh my God, she was so beautiful I couldn't—"

"Were you guys drinking?"

"Yeah, but we were mostly sober by then. Started drinking water around two," he said, leaning an elbow on the counter, hand to his head. He looked hopelessly at Micah and sighed. "I don't know what happened. She was so happy after, too, and I went to the bathroom for a towel and came out and she was yelling at me to get out."

Micah grimaced. "I'm sorry."

He flopped both arms down across the counter and said, "Don't you think it's weird this has happened to me twice now? Why do girls think I'm just in it for the sex? I wanna have a picket fence and a golden retriever named Scott! Like—?!"

"I thought it was Rover—"

"Eh, Scott's funnier. It's like you're calling a grown man inside. 'Scott, come here! Come here, Scott!'"

While Micah found Hypothetical Scott hilarious, the last time a girl had chased Benny out of her apartment, she had left Benny depressed and disoriented for literal weeks. The aftershocks still wracked him from time to time, like an embarrassing story spawning out of nowhere to torture his poor brain.

Micah joined him on the neighboring stool, holding his mug close. "She probably texted her friends and they got that into her head," Micah said. "It's not your fault."

Benny didn't look convinced and, voice dead, said, "At six in the morning?"

As Benny scrubbed his hands over his eyes, Micah thought to himself, They fucked for two hours? followed swiftly by, No wonder he's a mess. He pulled an all-nighter.

"I just feel bad now. I even told her—!"

"And then you went back on it."

"If I didn't, what if she never reached out again because she thought I thought she was, like, butt ugly or something? Rejection hurts a person's ego, you know."

"I guess."

Benny sighed. "At least Alistair had a good night..."

Micah, unconsciously, straightened. "What do you mean?"

Benny pulled out his phone to tap open his messages with Alistair. "Said he was invited over to someone's place. Spent the night."

Good excuse, Micah thought, too bad I'm going to out the lie. "Benny, I fucked your brother."

Benny laughed, grinning at his messages. "Yeah, right."

"Seriously, he's lying," Micah said. Benny's eyes were on him now, wide. "I mean, we didn't talk about telling you. But you and I—"

"Yeah, I get it," Benny said, and then with a devilish smile, said, "You sly dog."

"We lied at the party about the survey," he confessed, which transitioned Benny's cheeky attitude to one of shock. Micah shrugged. "We matched."

"But—But you—" Benny turned away, piecing the parts together in the air with his fingers. He put his palms up, confused. "I mean, I... guess he's never dated before... But I thought it was because he's not even interested in..."

"I mean, it sounds like we have the same patterns," Micah confessed. "I get the impression he's more mature about it, though."

"Well, I mean, he's got nearly a decade on you."

"He is not a decade older than me."

"Dude, he's almost thirty."

"What—"

"Twenty-eight. So more like seven years... That's not quite a decade."

Micah stared into the distance. And then, he grew hot all over thinking about Alistair all over again. He smothered his desire with a shake of his head, legs pressed close together. "I mean. Anyway—"

"Wait, so how was it?"

"Do you really want to know? After you just—"

Benny flinched as though shot, wrenching his head back and forth. "Please, don't remind me. Distract me."

"I mean. It was... It was really good," Micah confessed. "I think he's coming off a dry spell because he came really fast the first two times and then—And then I think we have similar stamina? Very similar." Truthfully, he was impressed by Alistair's level of control over his own orgasm after the first two times.

Control, Micah thought again, flustering once more. That was certainly the theme of the night as it progressed.

"I know you don't..." Benny started, voice cracking. He cleared his throat. "Bottom. So did you...?"

"No. I mean yes? I mean, what do you mean."

"I just mean Alistair seems like a top to me."

"Oh. He is, I guess."

"You guess?"

"He wasn't last night."

"Even—Even though he has to walk up and down the city today?"

They both fell quiet, perhaps out of politeness to mourn the state of Alistair's legs and ass.

And then, to offer reassurance, Micah said, "I didn't tear him or anything. So I guess he'll be fine."

"You guess?! Why must you always guess?!"

Micah shrugged.

"Are you gonna see him again?"

At Micah's glare, Benny put up his hands in surrender and opened his mouth to spew some sort of romantic drivel. Micah stopped him right there.

"I didn't tell you so that you'd set us up," Micah said. "I just wanted to be transparent with you. And it isn't going to happen again."

"But—"

"Trust me. We may have matched, but there were still points of conflict in the survey, you know. And like you said, Alistair's a top."

Benny snickered, giggled, and said, "Well, maybe not anymore."

"Well, you know and I know that I'll never take it up the ass. So."

Micah thwacked him across the arm as Benny burst into a full-blown laughing-attack. Micah grumbled into his coffee and drank.

A second later, they were interrupted by Erika's door opening. She marched out, hair a mess and in nothing but a button-up over her underwear as she pinned them both with a scowl and said, "Keep it the fuck down. We're trying to sleep."

"Sorry," Benny whispered on behalf of both of them.

Erika nearly turned back, only to do a double-take on Benny. "What happened. Your eyes are swollen."

Benny groaned, hand over his eyes. Micah waved her off. "I've got it handled."

"Do I need to punch someone though?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Now go to sleep," Micah hissed.

She squinted at him, suspiciously, before agreeing to stand down. Before retreating, she marched up to Benny, hissed his cheek, and stole a mouthful of cereal from the spoon still in Benny's hand. She gave him a thumbs up on her way out.

Benny turned back to Micah and mouthed, "Rude."

Micah snickered and resumed his morning coffee. By eleven, however, he would be on his second cup—this time over brunch with Kennedy. Upon learning Micah's late night affiliations, she was sour to have had their brunch stood up by Alistair.

"I'd like to meet him properly, you know," she said, arms folded, legs crossed. Her heel bounced with the rest of her foot as she pouted. "I mean, presumably, I'm going to be adopting him."

"He has his own money," Benny reminded her. "His full inheritance and he has a job."

"Yeah, and remind me why he doesn't pitch in a little?"

Benny rolled his eyes.

Micah found their financial banter ridiculous, if not funny. Where he and Erika came from little-to-nothing, Benny was receiving his inheritance in the form of a trust fund. It was a monthly allowance for school and rent that was always run dry the first of the month: on the condo's mortgage and HOA fees. Utilities were covered by Micah and Erika's paydays with a little boost from Benny's convenience store pay. It wasn't much, but Benny preferred being in charge of their grocery supply. He liked to cook.

Micah was just relieved that all Benny seemed to care about was being able to afford the mortgage. They easily could be scraping by month after month without it, but they'd be doing so in a shitty apartment that would just get more expensive as each year toiled by. Buying the flat was, certainly, a smart move suggested to Benny.

By Alistair.

Kennedy scoured them with a scathing look, reached for her latte, and said, "So are you gonna see him again?"

Micah shrugged and was unbothered by his next admission: "Probably not. Honestly, he seems like a connoisseur."

"Not all of us took french," said Benny.

Kennedy scoffed. "That's a common knowledge word."

"No it isn't! Who just whips out 'connoisseur' at the brunch table like that?"

"I just mean he won't struggle to find people better at sex than me. He's more experienced than me. Probably."

"No shot!"

"You're selling yourself short, Mr. Big Dick McGee—Hey!" Benny swatted at his sweater, where Micah had flicked water on it.

Micah glowered at him. "Trust me. You don't have to worry about me and your brother. My God! Kennedy, have you even unpacked that yet? I fucked his brother for, like, five hours straight and you don't think that's a little Freudian?"

Kennedy appraised him and said, "It is a little Freudian."

"See—!"

She shrugged, grinning. "But it's kinda hot. Do you need a spectator? Maybe I could learn something from you two and—" She put her napkin up to shield herself from Micah flicking water at her. She leaned to the side, glared at him from around the cloth square, and said, "Rude."

"And for the record, I don't nor will I ever need a spectator."

"Aw, really? I was just about to ask if I could get in on that position," Benny pouted, arms crossed. "Would that be weird if I watched?"

"Yes," Micah said, but he was missing something. He looked to Kennedy, appalled that she hadn't joined in. "You can't be serious."

"It's hot, what can I say."

"You're a fucking freak. I don't know why I go on believing you're the voice of reason."

"It's because she's so chic and savvy with it."

Kennedy was checking her phone until this moment. "Speaking of chic and savvy." She turned her calendar over to Micah and tapped the date: Next Saturday. "Can you make it?"

He opened the event note. It was a wedding, and since she, evidently, hadn't asked Benny, the unknown surname likely belonged to someone from Kennedy's ignorant and intolerable family. Micah was particularly attuned to carrying menial conversations with Kennedy's bigoted family and therefore, was the first prize plus one pick.

"Yeah, I can make it."

"Oh! Is your cousin getting married?" Benny asked, peering over to see.

"Nah, one of Cassian's relatives."

"Then why can't I go?!" Benny, ever the flamboyant one, tended to get on better with Kennedy's godfather, Cassian Presley, the very one funding the majority of Kennedy's lifestyle—excluding her apartment.

Micah tipped the phone a bit so he could get a better look at the invitation details. The dress code. Benny whistled. "Black tie... Nice."

"Do you want a new suit? We could go out after this."

"I open the bar today," Micah confessed.

Kennedy pouted. Kennedy's social life wasn't a social circle so much as it was an ecosystem. Micah was permitted to wear clothes from her family's events to friend events, but not the other way around. And, to her family events, Micah was not allowed to wear the same outfit twice. Her family recognized an outfit-repeater.

His fake life and wardrobe with Kennedy's family was astonishingly curated. Her family all knew her style, her favorite designers, and for this reason, believed Micah dressed himself. She was intentional about when she wanted her family to believe she dressed him versus when Micah needed to be perceived as dressing himself by wearing designers Kennedy was indifferent towards, didn't own herself, or "didn't know at all".

It was Kennedy's favorite season where (ethical and tasteful) wool and fur made practical sense. She would likely be attending the early autumn wedding in a Loro Piana coat and a bespoke gown. Micah, on the other hand...

Kennedy had her chin resting delicately on the back of her hand, manicured nails clicking one-by-one against her thumbnail. "I'm thinking silk. Do you still have the Brunello?"

Dressing myself, Micah thought, relieved.

This tended to go one of two ways depending on the crowd: were he to be dressed by Kennedy—wool, cashmere, velvet—he was made to be her distraction. Her relatives tended to think down on him, believing Kennedy to be his sugar momma because he didn't know how to dress himself. Just a public school brat dazzled by his first ever black tie, oh, wee lamb, does he even know his cutlery?

She had, of course, warned him the first time she'd dressed him in velvet. It was after a particularly embarrassing photo was posted (and tagged!) with her in it that all her family had seen. To distract them, she'd tossed Micah to the wolves and not a single soul mentioned the photo. They were too busy doting on Kennedy's little public school pet. Do they really feed you chicken nuggets at school? On our tax dollars?!

"Yeah, I have it."

Satisfied, Kennedy leant back and said, "Perfect. I'll let you know what time to get to my place. It's in Long Island and I do not plan on spending the night."

"In and out. Heard," Micah said, and they clinked their mugs together before drinking. They'd both blend in, unsuspecting, and leave the moment it would be socially acceptable to.

Benny nudged Micah in the arm, saying, "Steal a bottle of champagne for us when you're there!"

"Only if Kennedy brings a purse big enough."

"Absolutely I will."

"Then sure."

Benny thrust his arms up and cheered.

By the end of lunch, Micah was, to his great horror, still thinking about Alistair. Admitting the details over eggs Benedict—a Benny West staple—biscuits, and coffee had certainly alleviated any guilt he might have felt, but it certainly didn't help that he couldn't remember the last time he'd found someone equally as voracious as him.

A survey question haunted him on his walk to work: "The climax is the best part of sex." He'd scored low and wished, for a moment, he'd focused greater attention on reading Alistair's answers.

I feel like I know the answer to that now, though, he thought, soothingly, though distress still tightened his brow. He rubbed a hand over his forehead.

He wished he hadn't shown Alistair his own answers.

Work was spent wondering if Alistair was back at the flat yet, if Alistair had signed a lease already, if Alistair was thinking about last night every time he felt a touch too sore. Over brunch, Benny had delivered his own theories about where Alistair would end up: West Village, most probably, with Brooklyn Heights as his second.

Kennedy and Micah had been full of contempt for Alistair's second option. Kennedy had pointed at him—him!—and cried, "My boy is not going to Brooklyn to fuck your brother." This had just served to distract them all from the issue at hand: that Alistair had better found a place in Greenwich or so help them God...!

Micah's shift ended early thanks to him starting early. He walked home with dinner in a bag under his arm and his phone in hand, a slew of dating apps open. He didn't need to think about Alistair—not at all.

In fact, his life would feel a lot less complicated if Micah would just stop thinking about Alistair's tits—He meant pecs. Definitely meant pecs.

Micah trudged up the stairs of their building to the top floor where, not for the first time, the front door was left unlocked. A classic Benny move.

The moment he nudged open the door, he was greeted by the sound of gunfire on their television and the quick clack-clack-clack of a controller. Their makeshift couch was occupied by Benny and Alistair, lounging before an open, half-finished pizza box.

"Hey," Micah greeted, kicking off his shoes.

Benny paused the game. "You want some pizza?"

Micah held up his togo bag. He set it on the counter and pointedly avoided looking at Alistair as he instead assessed the television. "Is this Valorant?"

"Yeah. Wanna play the next match?"

"No. And you're monopolizing Alistair's bed anyway," Micah chided as he fetched silverware from the drawer and a drink from the fridge.

Benny gasped. "Oh, right, aren't you tired?"

"Yeah, Alistair, aren't you tired?" Micah teased, which earned him a scowl from Alistair that he met head-on. Beside him, Benny's surprise lifted into a full-blown smile.

"Fuck you." Already did. "And not that it concerns you, but I have insomnia. Probably won't get to sleep until three anyway, so hand me the controller."

Benny relinquished the controller. "Did you take your meds?"

"Yeah."

"Then why aren't you sleeping."

"You gotta time it right, genius. Missed the window."

Micah unpacked his togo box and joined them. He put Benny between them as a safe buffer away from Alistair, who started the game up again. With the couch cushions on the floor, Micah could stretch his legs out and lean back into the pillows against the wall as Benny leant precariously into his space until their shoulders were flush together.

Micah twirled noodles onto his fork and held it up to Benny, who chomped down on it with glee. "Where's Erika?"

"That concert by the park."

"Again? I thought that was last night," Alistair said.

Micah leaned over to look at him and say, "It's the weekend. She's always at a club."

"So then what are you two, like, the only twenty-one-year-olds in all of Manhattan that hate concerts or something?"

Benny massaged his ears with a frown, saying, "No... I just worry about losing my hearing at a ripe young age..."

As they carried on to rants about Benny wanting to be able to hear his grandbabies one day (who Alistair claims will be tone deaf anyway), Micah finished his dinner. He sacrificed several mouthfuls to Benny, the bottomless pit, and settled in for a relaxing evening only mildly interrupted by flashes of the previous night flitting through his brain.

He tried not to think about it, though.

Alone in bed that night, Micah scrolled through various matches on his apps and checked in with his two people he'd grown comfortable going back to now and then. They were both still single, and looking, and interested in seeing him again.

He assured one that he would clear his schedule for the following evening.

A/N: I've been nervous to post explicit content on my main account, so I hope...? Y'all like it?? There's a lot of it in this book. I'll be posting Monday-Wednesday-Friday. Everything is already scheduled and I won't be missing a day.

Final chapter release is scheduled for January 3rd, 2025.