FRIENDS

KIERAN

“Are you an idiot?” I yell into the microphone on my headset for the billionth time. Rob had just gotten himself blown up by a creeper, leaving me alone in the mineshaft we had slowly been making our way through. We’ve been playing Minecraft together for the past few hours, and this kid doesn’t know anything! I’m honestly losing my mind, but there isn’t anything else to do. All my other friends are asleep. I can’t blame them, with it being 4a.m. and all. Honestly, I think Rob’s only stayed up this late because he feels sorry for me.

Usually, I’d be on a call with Cordelia, but obviously, that ship has sailed. That’s probably why he’s put up with me yelling at him so much too. I would feel bad, but I’m too tired to care.

I collect his stuff, dumping out piles and piles of cobblestone in order to pick up his diamonds. I don’t intend on returning them – finders, keepers.

I’m about to go off at him again when my phone vibrates. It’s a Snapchat notification.

From Mateo Russo.

Huh, I guess he’s still awake after all. I move my avatar back to the shelter we made and then open the app. Whatever it is, it’s a video. I mute myself, so Rob doesn’t hear anything, and open it.

The video’s fairly dark, so I don’t recognise what’s happening at first, but then the angle changes. It’s Mateo’s hand, slowly stroking his hard-on through his sweatpants. My eyes widen, and my stomach clenches as I watch, transfixed, as he moves it up and down. Despite myself, my own dick starts to stir.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

And the text he put with it doesn’t help my situation either – “thinking of you”. The video ends, and I quickly snap back, sending him “be there soon”.

Look, Mateo and I are best friends. I don’t even know how our whole arrangement started – we were just messing around one day, play-fighting like normal. Then, all of a sudden, I was pinned to my bed with Mateo over me. I didn’t want to move, and neither did he, and, well… things happened.

For a while, I’ve been trying to convince myself I don’t feel anything for him, but when that happened I thought-

Well, I thought I might have a chance with him. But after we fucked, we sort of… didn’t talk about it. Then it happened again. And again.

Soon it was our norm – just friends with benefits. I know he doesn’t feel anything more for me, though. He might have never said it outright to me, but the way he acts with Lana and with girls in general assures me that there is never going to be anything between us. I might be his best friend, but I’m not special to him like he is to me.

I unmute my mic, bringing myself back into reality.

“What happened?” Rob asks.

“Oh- um,” I swallow, “Mateo sent me something. Anyway, I have to go now.”

“Why? Your boyfriend wants you to come over?” he laughs afterwards, so I know it’s a joke.

It pisses me off though – one, how accurate he is without even knowing; and two, he’s always saying stuff like that. As much as I love him to death, Rob’s one of those guys that thinks calling people gay is funny. I know he doesn’t mean to hurt me, as I haven’t told anyone I’m bi, but still. There’s a reason only Alex had known what goes on with Mateo and me.

“No, I’m just tired of your stupid ass. Can’t even kill a creeper, god damn! Learn how to play so you don’t annoy me to death next time.” I log off after that, slamming my laptop shut and racing out to my mum’s car. Thank god she and my little sister are fast asleep – I’m too worked up to think of an excuse right now.

It doesn’t take me long to get to Mateo’s, but I spend a couple of minutes just sitting in my car in his driveway checking myself out in the mirror. I frown at what I see but decide it doesn’t matter just as my phone buzzes again.

1 new message from Mateo: ‘gonna sit out there all night or come keep me company?”

I huff out a laugh at the frowny face he sends and make my way to his front door. I grab the spare key hidden in the windowsill’s crevice and slowly push it open, locking it behind me. Mateo has the whole basement to himself, which I’m thankful for now. If he still had his room next to his parents’ like he did in freshman year, I would never look them in the face again.

I tiptoe my way to his door and knock on it. It opens almost straight away, and Mateo stares me down with hooded eyelids. His hands dart to grab my waist, and he pulls me inside. I gulp, desire already building within me. He shuts the door, slamming me against it almost immediately. He leans down and attaches his lips to my neck, sucking on it lightly. He has a thing for marks, is what I've learnt. Usually, he'll try to be discrete, but I know he enjoys giving me smug looks whenever somebody asks about my neck.

He moves further down, tugging my shirt off to get at my collarbone. My head falls back against the door, and I grind into him subconsciously. I'm half-hard already, and I'm flushed from head to toe.

"Needy," he murmurs against my skin, grinding his hips into mine forcefully. I let out a whine, unable to hold it in. Hearing the sound, Mateo moves his hand to under my ass, signalling me to jump. I do, wrapping my legs around his waist as he carries me over to his bed, dumping me there. He pulls off his clothes, and I do the same, then he crawls on top. I need his hands on me again, and he quickly complies, his hand slipping between us. I buck into his touch as his lips attach to mine.

I moan as he readjusts his hand, gripping me tighter as our mouths collide, his body slowly rolling into mine. My hips rise to meet his every time, and I whine when I'm not able to get enough friction. He huffs out a laugh and pulls away, reaching for his drawer to get out his lube.

I fall back against his pillows and squeeze my eyes shut, letting the heat simmer within me. I try to focus on that rather than these butterflies that won't go away. We're friends, I tell myself, just friends. This means nothing.

I hate that the thought hurts me. It must show on my face because I feel Mateo’s hand gently push back my hair.

"You good, baby?"

I open my eyes to see him worriedly scanning my face with furrowed eyebrows. That just makes it hurt more. Mateo has always been so careful with me, so attentive and caring, and that’s why I started to like him. He makes me feel like I’m special in moments like these, but even outside of this, he always makes sure to include me. When he does stuff like this – says things like “baby” – it’s impossible to ignore my crush. He never calls me that unless he’s making a joke out of it. Still, the word brings a conflicted feeling in me – a little chunk of optimism that my realism can never seem to kill, no matter how much I want it to.

I desperately want to fool myself into believing this means something, so I shut my eyes. I know Mateo’s still waiting for an answer, so I nod, and before he can question me, I push myself upwards and wrap one arm around his neck, bringing him back down for a kiss. We get lost in the sensation and resume rocking against each other.

-

I turn off the shower and walk back into the bedroom, a towel around my waist as I go through Mateo’s drawers. He’s lounging on his bed, already dressed and watching videos on his phone, but when he hears me, he looks up. “Trying to go for round two?” He jokes with that signature fox-like grin of his.

I pout at him. “Shut up. You’re the one who can’t not be horny for two seconds – I didn’t have time to grab spare clothes, did I?”

“Hmm, I think you just like wearing mine.” He smirks as I struggle to come up with a comeback. I decide to ignore him and put one of his hoodies on anyway, it completely swamping me.

I struggle to pull my arms through the ridiculously long sleeves, then find my boxers on the floor. I exchange my towel for them and decide to forgo pants. Mateo sees that I’m done and pats the space beside him on his bed.

“Come cuddle,” he whines, reaching for me.

I fake-gag, but go over anyway, slotting myself in between his arms. There’s something comforting about this – the early morning sun coats the room in a dark, hazy orange and the street outside is quiet. We’re sheltered by the heavy blanket he’s pulled over the two of us, and I can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. It’s just him and me in our own world.

It’s easy to pretend that this is a forever thing.

“Do you think I’ll find love?” He asks, voice low and soft, intent only for me.

The question stumps me – not because I don’t have an answer, but because I can’t answer honestly. I can’t say that he already has, that I’m right here, because, as I have to keep reminding myself, this is one-sided.

“Of course,” I answer, swallowing down the thick bitterness and plastering on a smile, “it’s not like you’re that ugly.”

Mateo scoffs, moving his hand from my hair just to hit the back of my head lightly. His dark brown eyes look directly into mine, his hand coming down to cup my cheek. “Be serious, Kiki.”

“I am!” I protest in frustration before I remind myself to stay calm. “I am serious. You have so many options, Teo. Trust me, I see the way girls look at you. You’re – don’t take this to your head – but you’re genuinely funny, and I love hanging around you. Everyone does.” Despite myself, my voice goes soft at the end, and I have to clear my throat.

He sighs, breaking eye contact to look up at his ceiling. “I feel like I’ve never loved a girl.”

My heart skips a beat. I’m quick to mask the careful hope I feel bubbling inside me with a more playful grin. “That’s because you’re gay.”

He gives me a light shove. “I bet you wish I was,” he retorts, adding a wink for good measure.

And I’ll be honest.

I think about telling him then and there.

It’s not like he’ll take it badly. We’re friends – best friends. That hasn’t changed no matter how many fights we’ve had nor how many times we’ve disagreed. And it’s not like Mateo’s homophobic!

The words rise in my throat and sit there, clogging my airways. They feel so significant, so boundless and life-changing. How can something weightless affect me like this? Why do I feel choked, smothered, trapped by them? Two words. Two words to let him know that I like girls and guys. That’s all they are. Just. Words.

Time slows and moves like tar, giving me the chance. But I’m suffocating. Suffocating in the honey-thick air, in the tunnel of his stare, in the recesses of my mind and in the letters of those words.

I take a deep breath, breaking the spell, and laugh along with him.

It feels like I’ve stabbed myself in the chest – like I’ve stripped myself of the key. I regret it immediately, but I can’t take it back now. The moment is over.

Maybe it’s for the best.