Escorting Micah back to our dorm without any of the residents or security staff witnessing how loaded he is proves to be quite the chore. I may be a couple inches taller, but his muscle mass combined with the dead weight of him clinging to me makes the trip just that much more exciting. I pray to the Universe that we won’t get caught, but I know that’s not going to be very helpful in the end. Being written up when neither of us is of drinking age yet would certainly lead to some consequences with the ResEd department. We’d definitely be fired if Ricky found out.

But we make it to his apartment on the ground floor of our building without incident. Well.

“Rashmiiii…” He slurs through my Hindu name while I attempt to wiggle his left shoe free. “Bed.”

“I know I know-I’m almost done.”

“Noooo…” Micah groans heavily, kicking his feet out of reach just as I successfully de-shoe him. He grunts to himself while he flops his body at what looks like a painful angle on the comforter. “You, too.” He points in my general direction, but then his elbow bouncing off the mattress and nearly thwacking his eyes out makes him chuckle about it all and lose focus on communication. 

“I…” My lips purse around his fingers dancing clumsily across my face. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep,” I mumble, the jello shots from earlier tonight speaking for me before I can swallow my voice. Crap. 

We met up with some fellow students from the English Department tonight for an unofficial Saturday Social to celebrate this awful week of school. If you ask me, we both pushed our limits a little too far to try and keep up with the others. Just getting him back through that path in the woods from the senior apartments was enough effort for a month’s worth of socializing in my mind. Especially when he decided he wanted to make out under a pine tree because, “It smells nice right here, Ethan.” Luckily, my instincts were intact enough to drag him into deeper woods just in case other souls were still awake at this hour. I’m so tired.

“Hey...” Micah sighs at me, his citrusy breath tinged with cheap vodka while he chews his gum in slow motion. “Thanks...for coming with me.” 

My giggle happens through a light hiccup while I rest my chin on the mattress. “You just got so serious-” I give up on speech when he pokes my cheek insistently.

“I mean it!” He gasps with those natural dramatics scribbling tautness all over his features. The green slits of his eyes pop real big while his stare glazes with the beginnings of this act of deep gratitude. 

He knows I wouldn’t have gone alone. “Mmhmm-”

“E...than...” Micah scoots forward through the heap of comforter until his hips are facing the same way as the rest of him. Me. Still just...kneeling on the floor because I think my legs are too heavy to stand now.  

“Here.” I fumble with the bottle by my foot until the cap’s uncrewed, actively trying to ignore the bulge poking his plain black briefs into another dimension entirely. “Have some water.” 

“No.” 

“Micah-”

“Kiss me and I’ll drink it.” He leans his head over the edge of the bed until that classic little smirk tilts an inch from my mouth. “I’ll drink allll of it.”

“Sh-shut up.” I take a sip from the bottle for something to do while he’s being like this, and swirl the cool contents along until it all slips down my throat.

“Tissue.”

“Huh?” I startle out of my momentary daze about chilled water, and discover Micah’s arm resting on my shoulder while he clenches his face in some sort of effort. “What’re you doing, weirdo…?”

We both laugh when the tissue box falls to the floor. It’s knocked off the top of his desk by joint attempts from the both of us to stand and get just one stinking cloth for his stupid gum. 

“Why didn’t you spit it out in the bathroom when you peed earlier?!” I gasp, keeling over onto his bed while my legs scream at me to stop this sudden nonsensical burst of activity.

“Wasn’t done chewing it then,” Micah mumbles before bouncing along beside me. He smirks and cups my face in his hands in one fluid motion, and this brat hasn’t even sipped the water yet. 

Lips tinged with a leftover tropical burst from the gum pack the greatest of punches, and I find myself completely unwilling to fight this now. Him. I just can’t. Not when sinking into the sheets I noticed were fresh hours earlier feels so much better than kneeling on the carpet and trying to sober up. 

Not when he’s already dragging his shirt off while unbuttoning mine, and the echoes of his murmured jokes to himself about having nimble fingers float through my head before I can interpret them properly. 

Not when he nibbles that spot under my jaw until I react fully this time, and he notices. 

And not when I find myself wanting this while he’s already however many steps ahead, with his hips pulsing against mine like he wasn’t seconds away from passing out mere moments ago.

I’m still convinced this is okay when I willingly slide my arms free from my sleeves and lean into his kiss. That little gasp he releases tickles every inch of my skin in reach of it, until he’s sucking on my tongue and I’m letting him. 

Letting him press my body down with his while his hand slowly slides beneath my pants. 

Letting his touch bring me out, stretched and thick alongside him as he strokes us together with such gentleness in his grip that I find myself nearly whining for it. 

And letting it feel good, even when my brain starts to flicker on right in the middle. Right as his lips latch to my neck and my legs spread wide to house his hips for closer contact. For more than this.

“M-Micah.” My voice barely reaches the surface of my throat while my spine still arches into him like this can continue. 

He doesn’t hear me. I don’t even really hear me.