Let It Happen

When I get back to my student flat the next morning Dennis is already there, but unfortunately for me he'd brought Gus with him. And if I'm not in the mood for Gus in the afternoon, imagine how I am in the morning.

But apparently he's already made himself comfortable. I find him sitting on the battered green sofa, his sock-enveloped feet resting on the coffee table like he owns the place.

Gus is good looking, I'm not going to deny it. He has these intense blue eyes that are even nicer than Dennis'. His face is smooth and handsome, and he has soft brown hair that sweeps across the top of his forehead in a sort of loose quiff. He dresses simply, in a lot of denim and shirts, and he has a tiny hoop in his ear.

I can hear mugs clinking and cutlery rattling in the kitchen, so I take it Dennis is tidying up after my roommate, Cammie. She's a little messy, to put it nicely.

I follow the sounds to the kitchen, where Dennis is washing the dishes and humming softly to himself with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. I roll my eyes as my gaze falls on him, because can he really not go five minutes without smoking, especially in my flat? He knows I don't like it. Sometimes I think he does it just to spite me.

I reach out to take the half finished death stick from his lips, and he pouts, his lip ring jutting out as I lob it out the window.

"I see you've made yourselves at home," I accuse, glancing pointedly out the door at Gus, who's flicking through the channels on the TV.

"Yep," he says happily. "We just caught Cam on her way out and she let us in."

"What a sweetheart," I retort dryly.

"Right?"

"You don't have to clean up after her y'know," I point out, and he shrugs.

"I'm feeling generous."

"I might take advantage of that later," drawls Gus, suddenly appearing to lean in the doorway, and Dennis grins.

"Um," I snap, trying to hide the fact that he just scared the shit out of me, "ew."

"BJs all around," giggles Dennis, and I slap his shoulder.

"You're both disgusting!" I shriek, covering my ears with my hands.

In a few lazy steps, Gus is beside Dennis, pulling Dennis to him by the waist and connecting their lips. Dennis grins and throws his arms around Gus' neck, bubbles soaring through the air as he moves his dripping hands. They both smile into the kiss, fully aware that I'm right here and watching. Bastards.

I hoist myself up onto the kitchen counter and help myself to Dennis' coffee. Dennis always has to have coffee in the morning, no matter what. If he can't have his coffee, he'll refuse to wake up. I don't know why, because coffee's not even that great, but that's just Dennis. Coffee's his life blood. It probably runs through his veins, the amount he drinks it. It's not my favourite drink, but it's there so I'm going to steal it since Gus and Dennis are so intent on displaying their affection for each other.

I want to hate seeing them together because I really don't like Gus, but it's hard not to admit they're sweet together. If I wasn't on the receiving end of Dennis' heartbroken strops all the time, I'd have said they're perfect together. And for one fond moment I wonder if I was wrong about Gus. Maybe he's changed. Or maybe he really is just taking advantage because his friends are all hungover and pissy. Who knows?

Dennis finally seems to remember Gus isn't the only other person in the room and slaps him away, licking his lips and grinning, his eyes lighting up as they flutter back open.

"Honestly Gusty," he coos, playfully shoving Gus away, "I'm busy."

"And I'm gagging," I add, still sipping the coffee even though it's lukewarm.

"Whatever," grins Gus, kissing Dennis once more, his hand running down the back of his soft black hair, "the adverts are over anyway."

He strides out of the kitchen after giving Dennis' arse an inappropriate squeeze and making me want to throw up. I raise an eyebrow at Dennis, but he just beams and shrugs, turning back to the sink.

"Gus said he saw you last night," he says, and my eyes widen.

"Yeah..." is all I can say. I don't know what else to tell him.

He turns to me and smirks. "He said you caught him playing Guess the Fakes and you freaked out."

"You... You know about that?"

"Yeah," he laughs. "I mean, it's this stupid thing his friends started. They all do it."

"And... You're okay with that?" I frown, thinking if James did that it'd make me horribly uncomfortable. "I thought you'd be upset or something."

"He's a guy, Mae," he mutters, shrugging as he empties the sink and dries his hands. "It's better than, I don't know, him watching porn or actually cheating or whatever. It's just a bit of fun."

But I can tell from his body language that the subject is making him uncomfortable. He's shifting his weight from foot to foot and looking at the floor, chewing nervously on his chipped black fingernails. I know the thought of Gus looking at women's tits makes him uncomfortable, and rightfully so. Dennis would never do anything like that.

I open my mouth to speak, to tell him it's okay not to be okay, to comfort him, but he cuts me off before I can get any words out.

"Tell me about your date with James," he demands, grabbing my hand and dragging me into the living room, where Gus is guiltlessly watching reruns of Britain's Got Talent.

I sit in the armchair by the window, tucking my feet underneath myself and letting Dennis take the sofa. He tentatively approaches Gus like a stray to an open hand, and Gus leans back so Dennis can climb into his lap like a little kid. Gus secures his arms around Dennis and kisses the side of his head and I can't help smiling. They're adorable when they're not at each other's throats.

But for once Dennis isn't interested in being sentimental with his boyfriend over an episode of Got Talent. He leans forward, his intense blue gaze on me, and for some reason I feel my cheeks colouring, like I'm intruding on their moment. He shouldn't be talking to me while Gus is willing to sit with him and watch TV.

"Well?" he hisses, clutching Gus' arm like a lifeline. "How was last night?"

For a second my gaze meets Gustav's and he just looks at me carefully. He doesn't seem to want me to mention his little 'stumble', which strikes me as odd. Gus is the one who gets away with murder in his relationship. Why would he get all defensive about one little mistake when Dennis already knows about his childish games? I shrug and smile at Dennis, ignoring Gus.

"The dinner was nice," I tell him. "We went to some expensive French restaurant, and obviously James knew the owner because-"

"-James knows everyone," recites Dennis correctly, and I nod.

"-So we got a discount and everything," I continue. "I have no idea what I ate, but it was good. You wouldn't have liked it though."

"Fussy sod," agrees Gus, ruffling Dennis' hair.

"Hey, just 'cause nothing beats pizza!" Dennis objects, flattening his hair, and we all laugh.

"And bacon," adds Gus, and Dennis nods eagerly.

"Bacon pizza just trumps all," proclaims Dennis. "I don't need your French food."

"Is that racist?" I tease.

"It's clearly foodist," says Gus.

"Foodist isn't a thing!"

"Guys!" whines Dennis, boucning on Gustav's lap. "Mae's date?!"

Gus tightens his grip on Dennis' waist to keep him still and Dennis squeaks - a difficult feat if you have a voice as deep as his. It's quite funny seeing how skinny and graceful he is and then hearing his contrasting deep voice.

"Did he compliment your outfit or what?" Dennis asks impatiently, and Gus grins, burying his face in Dennis' shoulder.

"He said I looked gorgeous or something," I tell him with a small smile, and Gus makes gagging sounds into Dennis' back, which is pretty rich coming from him.

Dennis beams. "And after the dinner?"

"We stopped at the club for a bit," I mutter, my voice decreasing in volume, and Gus moves his head to look at me.

"And?!" demands Dennis.

"We ran into a few of his stunning model friends," I continue, and I swear Gus is letting out a sigh of relief. What is he hiding? "But we didn't stay long. We went back to his."

"AND?"

"What do you think?" I snap, trying not to laugh at the devious grin on his delicate face.

"Sex!" he guesses, and I don't answer. He takes it as a yes. "Did he make you breakfast?"

"He's a model," I negate, shaking my head. "He doesn't do breakfast."

"What?" hisses Dennis. "What kind of savage is he?"

"Some of us can't eat a fried breakfast every morning without gaining weight," I say, rolling my eyes pointedly.

Dennis leaps to his feet, winding Gus as he goes, and hurries back into the kitchen. I'm so tempted to interrogate Gus while Dennis is out of earshot, but knowing my luck Dennis would walk in while the interrogation morphs into an argument. No, it's best to ask Gus when Dennis isn't around. I need to get him alone, which is pretty much impossible. If he's not with Dennis he's never without one of his stupid friends.

So instead I get up and leave Gus alone with the TV, following Dennis into the kitchen, where half his body is submerged in the fridge and he's standing on his tiptoes. I smile as I notice his odd socks. Clearly he hasn't done his washing.

"My side's empty," I tell him, and he hits his head on one of the shelves, unaware I was here. He withdraws from the fridge, scowling and holding his head. "Cammie went shopping for her side of the fridge yesterday but I was too busy to go with her."

"We could go shopping today," he suggests, and I nod.

"Okay, but I have a class in half an hour. After?"

"Sure."

He pushes the fridge door closed with one finger, and in two strides he's in front of me, pulling me into a tight hug. He smells like he usually does: of cigarettes and cinnamon. His parents shower him with money, so he gets this really expensive shampoo and conditioner from his hairdressers and it smells like cinnamon and it's my favourite smell in the world. Fortunately for me Dennis is big on hugs so I get to smell him a lot. And I did not just say that.

We stand there for a while, swaying slightly in each other's arms, and Dennis kisses my temple. I close my eyes, letting his happiness infect me. I haven't seen him this happy in so long. Part of my brain is nagging at me, telling me it won't last for long because Gus is clearly hiding something, but for now I want to enjoy the moment.

"Mae?" he whispers, still hugging me tight.

"Yeah?"

"Is it okay that Gus is here? I know you don't like him..."

"It's fine," I sigh. "You know I don't mind as long as you're happy."

"I am," he confirms, and I can hear the smile in his voice. "He was so sweet this morning. He came over with flowers and made me a sandwich-"

"Heaven for you," I giggle, prodding him in his non-existent stomach.

"Exactly," he laughed, recoiling a litte and pulling out of the hug.

And I just can't help thinking that he's so sweet. He always puts everyone else's happiness before his own, even people who don't particularly like him. He considers everyone's feelings, and it's the cutest thing.

For a second we just look at each other, and the thought comes out of nowhere that I'd really like to know what kissing him feels like. I glance at his pale pink lips, his shiny silver lip ring, then back up to his sparkly blue eyes, and then I mentally slap myself because I don't really want to kiss my best friend.

"I-I have to shower," I stammer, backing away and walking into the doorframe, making him chuckle.

I hurry to the bathroom between mine and Cammie's rooms and slam the door shut, completely oblivious to where that thought came from. I mean yeah, it's no secret that I had a massive crush on Dennis when we first met, but that was five years ago, before Gavin, before James, before Gus turned him gay. He's Dennis, I couldn't kiss Dennis. Ew.

After a quick shower, I get dressed and head out of the flat, yelling a hurried goodbye to Gus and Dennis, who are still curled up on my sofa. The university building's only down the road, but the short walk gives me enough time to continue my little freakout.

I know Dennis would've freaked out if I'd even tried it. Dennis is head over heels in love with Gus. He thinks they're going to get married and adopt a kid called Damian. He's not interested in anyone else and he never will be, no matter how many times Gus breaks his heart. How did I even come to think about kissing him? Ugh. I could write a book on why Dennis and I should never go down that road, and as an English and Classical Studies student it wouldn't be difficult.

It's a beautiful day today. The sky is a perfect blue, like the colour of Dennis' eyes - no, stop it - dotted with puffy clouds. There's a slight breeze, cooling the heat of the sun off my skin and ruffling my short brown hair. But despite the breeze it's still pretty hot, so when I reach the cool confines of the university building I'm a little relieved.

I arrive at the lecture hall just on time. We're having a historical fiction author in today, which I'm thankful for. It'll be a nice distraction from something I've blown way out of proportion. The kiss didn't happen, so why am I stressing so much?

Anyway, the author's name is Helen Hollick and apparently she's a local writer with a lot of experience. It's exciting; I've never met an actual author before. When she takes to the floor, a hush falls over the room like a thin blanket, and we just watch her walk to the centre of the room. She's tall, with long, curly blonde hair pinned back out of her face.

For the next hour and a half I sit there among my classmates, listening to her talk about self publishing and perserverance and editing and all this wonderful stuff about making a living out of writing. I scribble notes down in my notebook, drinking in all she has to say, but by the end of it it's half past twelve and I'm starving.

After the lecture I reluctantly pass up the opportunity to meet Helen because I'm actually so hungry I could eat a cow. I grab a sandwich in the little cafe on the way out and head home.

Dennis and Gus are sharing a cigarette and still watching TV when I get back. I click my tongue disapprovingly at the smoking as I drop my bag in the corner, but Dennis just grins.

"How was the author lady?" he asks as I take a massive bite out of my sandwich.

"Good," I grumble through a mouthful of food. "I thought you'd be gone by now."

"We're going food shopping, remember?"

"Oh yeah." I look at Gus. "Are you joining us?"

He shrugs. "Might as well."

I sigh and pick my bag back up, and Dennis switches off the TV, ignoring objections from Gus.

"I wanted to finish watching that," Gus grumbles, and Dennis grins, planting a kiss on his lips and linking their hands together.

"Tough," he says, dragging Gus out the door. "Let's go shopping."

I trail after them, trying not to think about earlier. Seeing them together sort of makes me wish James was here, not that we're anywhere near as infatuated as Gus and Dennis, but it'd be nice not to be the third wheel.

We burst out into the sunshine, which Dennis hisses at in disdain, shielding his eyes with his free hand. He yanks his black hood over his head, which is probably going to make him a lot hotter, but I don't say anything. He clings to Gus as we walk, which I would find cute if I didn't have to walk behind them and dodge a bunch of irritable people to keep up because of how busy it is.

Luckily for me, my flat is in the middle of town and close to pretty much everything. The supermarket is a five minute walk away, so we arrive there in no time, and Dennis lets go of Gus, bounding into one of the freezer aisles to cool down.

Gus and I look at each other, shaking our heads and grinning. But I can still see the concern and distrust in his eyes, and I desperately want to know what it is he's hiding. Now still isn't the time, though, so we grab a trolley and follow Dennis, and when we reach him he climbs into the trolley, grinning like a kid.

"Bacon!" he cries, pointing at the meat aisle as if we're shopping to fill his flat and not mine.

But Gus is in control of the trolley, and apparently today he's in the mood to spoil his boyfriend. I trail after them, but something ahead of me stops me in my tracks and makes my heart attempt an escape from my chest.

James is here, and he's with Tamsin. They're not touching or holding hands or anything, but they're definitely together. Laughing. And Tamsin's fingers are twitching, as if she really wants to connect their hands. I try to retreat into hiding in another aisle, but Dennis has spotted them, oh god...

"Hey James!" he calls from the trolley, beckoning for him to come over.

James grins and makes his way over, bringing Tamsin with him. And Tamsin looks right at me and glares from behind my boyfriend. Seriously, if looks could kill I'd be a goner.

To me, this confirms she wants him. She doesn't want to just run into him in clubs or shop with him as friends. She wants my boyfriend to be her boyfriend. She hasn't even said two words to me but I know it's true. Is she planning some way to steal him from me?

And in this moment I know as long as Tamsin's around, my short relationship is in jeopardy.