Lend a Hand – Part One

PART ONE

P.O.V: ISABELLE

There’s one very important, unspoken rule in my friend group, which I’ve adhered to for years: never date inside the friend group.

Since I was the last friend to join the group, I know that there’s an abundance of history among my peers. And the only way to avoid it, is to avoid being a part of it. 

Sadly, choosing to remain uninvolved is much easier than trying not to catch feelings.

2019 – June

“Oh, fuck off,” Sven shouts. “What did you expect?”

“He said he loved me!” Tracey bellows, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Houseshares are always messy. I left my first place because my roommate had a baby with my boyfriend. So now, I’m stuck living in Manchester with six people who’ve all dated each other…

“Marcus?” Sven scoffs. “You believed Marcus loved you? The same Marcus that cheated on Nikki with her sister?”

I gulp. I was in the living room with Tracey when Sven barged in shouting, and now I’m stuck on the couch while they’re standing in the middle of the room, blocking the exit.

“He’s changed!” She screams.

I roll my eyes as I slump into the corner of the couch. The pair turn to look at me. Tracey frowns while Sven stares blankly. “What? At least I didn’t laugh…”

“What is wrong with you?” Tracey cries.

“Nothing. I just wished I had popcorn,” I mutter. Tracey’s expression turns to anger while Sven struggles to hide his amusement. 

The couple hadn’t been on the best of terms for weeks, but with Tracey avoiding Sven like the bubonic plague, it’s been like waiting for a timebomb to explode. 

“I’m so done with this,” Tracey blurts before running out of the room.

“Feel free to never come back,” Sven shouts after her before plonking himself in the other corner of the sofa. “Sorry about that,” he sighs, resting his head on the back of the couch.

“It’s fine, it was bound to happen eventually,” I tell him. 

He turns his head to look at me with his bright, blue eyes. Frowning with his dirty blond eyebrows pulling together, creasing his forehead. “Never date in the friend group; it always ends miserably.”

I chuckle softly, leaning forward to get my cup of tea from the coffee table in front of us. “You’re preaching to the choir.”

I watch as he makes an o shape with his mouth. “Sorry,” he sighs. “Anyone else would need the reminder.”

Taking a sip of my tea, I slump back. “I assure you that my goddaughter being my ex’s illegitimate child is enough of a reminder.”

He squints. “They’re getting married this year, aren’t they?”

“Yeah,” I mutter. “Reminder: if you’re not allowed to see your goddaughter until the Christening… It’s a bad sign.”

Sven moves across the couch, wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close. “I will keep that in mind.”

2020 – April

“How are we going to afford rent?” Marcus growls. 

I roll my eyes. Out of all our roommates that had to stick around during lockdown, why the hell does it have to be him?

“Everyone is still going to be paying rent. Just not utilities and food,” Sven groans as he works on his laptop, sitting at the kitchen table. 

“Then what’s the point of them even going home?” Marcus asks.

“I don’t know, maybe to be with their loved ones during a literal pandemic?” I comment, sitting across from Sven as Marcus joins us.

“It’s going to be over by the end of May, I can guarantee it,” Marcus scoffs.

2020 – June

“I’ve never been so happy to see Marcus’s arse,” I mumble, sipping my wine as Sven joins me on the couch. Content that Marcus has been kicked out of the house, being free from his insufferable ignorance.

“It’ll be the last time you’ll have to see it,” he tells me.

“God, I hope you’re right.”

He takes a few good gulps of his lager before setting the bottle on the coffee table. “If he ever comes back, I’ll take out his kneecaps.”

I hold back my gasp, suddenly shocked by the violent image of Sven taking a blunt object to Marcus’ knees. “Don’t be ridiculous,” I whisper.

He looks over at me, his left brow raised as he smirks. “You genuinely think I wouldn’t?”

“All he did was kiss me,” I taunt, turning my attention back to the TV and placing my glass on the table beside me.

I feel him shift in his seat. Peeking out the corner of my eye, I see he’s slouching – eyes still on me. “He kissed you without your consent, while you were heavily intoxicated, and knowing that you have no interest in him.”

“And you’d break his legs, for what? My honour?” I laugh and look back at him.

He smiles. His face is soft with his light stubble, adding more dimension to his face. “For you, I’d do much more.” 

I press my lips together, reach across the sofa and kiss his cheek. “Thank you for being my friend.”

His smile widens. “Thank you for being mine.”

2021 – September

“You’re telling me, that you spent eighteen months in a house – alone – with him, and you were entirely platonic?” Nikki questions as she sits on my bed.

It’s nice having her back in Manchester, especially since everyone decided to move out. “Why would I risk a dear friendship for a pandemic fling?” I laugh, sitting at my desk and finishing an email to my boss. 

“Maybe because sex is fun? Or have you forgotten about that?” She throws a pillow at me; the plush fabric hits the side of my head.

“God forbid I prefer solo play,” I mutter, reading through the email and pressing send.

“How often do you think he thought about you during solo play?” Nikki teases.

I get up, grab the pillow off the floor and toss it onto the bed. “Never, because he isn’t interested.”

“And you know that, how?” She raises an eyebrow.

Because while we were home alone for over a year, he didn’t even look at me like I was a possibility… “Because if he was interested, he would’ve said. You’re literally the first person who’s come to see us since Marcus left last June, do you actually think he’d keep it a secret for this long?”

She sighs, laying back on the bed, grabbing the pillow and clutching it to her chest. “Does he go to bed before or after you?”

“What?” I blurt, sitting beside her.

“Before or after?” She repeats.

I blink. Always after. “After. But he’s been on the late shift for the past nine months, so he doesn’t need to wake up early.”

“How long after you go to bed does he follow?” Nikki probes.

I roll my eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Check the bin in the living room tomorrow morning. I’ll put £20 on it that there’s tissues in it.” 

My eyes widen. “You cannot be serious. I’m not checking the bin for that…”

“Why? Because I’m right?” She asks.

My mouth drops open. “No, because it’s an invasion of privacy.”

Nikki tosses the pillow toward the head of my bed and sits up. “He’s the one pulling himself in the living room…”

“A living room, in a house, which you no longer live in,” I blurt. “If that’s what he’s doing, I’m not bothered as long as he cleans up after himself.”

“He’s watching porn on the living room TV, and you’re fine with it?”

I look out of my bedroom window, trying to keep a blank expression on my face and to get rid of the images in my head. “He pays most of the damn rent. I’m living in his house. He can masturbate wherever he likes,” I mutter.

She frowns. “Fine. But hear me out – make it so the TV returns to the same page when it’s turned back on.”

“What?!” I roar. “No.”

“Oh, come on. You’re not even the least bit interested in what he’s watching?” Nikki giggles, biting her bottom lip. “You’ve never thought about him while playing solo?”

Of course, I have. Not that I could tell him that. Six months into the pandemic, I started having wet dreams about him. Waking up touching myself, half expecting him to be in bed next to me – never having such luck.

I bought my first sex toy in month eight. Nothing too adventurous – five inches and thick. I paid extra to get a mattress strap and a suction cup. 

How could I be mad at him for masturbating in the living room when I’ve literally fucked myself in the shower while hearing him? 

I gulp, trying to fight the instinct to press my legs together, knowing it would answer her question.

“No,” I blurt.

She gets up, crosses her arms and stands in front of me. “You’ve been single for almost three years, he’s been single for two. Even if it’s just friends with benefits, get some… Clear out the cobwebs,” she scoffs.

“You’re going to be late for your dinner date,” I tell her, looking at the clock on my window sill.

Nikki sighs, leans down, and puts her hands on my knees. She forcibly spreads my legs. “Climb him like a tree,” she says before leaving the room. 

Not a chance.

2021 – October

“Someone’s getting tired,” Sven teases as I yawn.

I reach across the couch and playfully slap his stomach. “Arsehole,” I laugh.

He fakes pain as he gasps dramatically. “Me, an arsehole? Of course not!” 

I turn my attention back to the TV, waiting for him to do the same. When he does, I quickly jab him in the ribs.

“Oi,” Sven roars, smiling as he launches himself across the sofa and grabs me.

I squeal as his fingers dig into my sides. “Stop!” I twist, hanging over the arm of the couch as if to flee.

“Sorry? I can’t hear you over my requirement to tickle the naughtiness out of you,” he laughs, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting against me. His weight holding me in place.

Panting, cheeks hurting from smiling and laughing, I stay still.

“Are you okay?” He whispers.

I nod. “I’m fine.” After a few breaths, I announce, “I should go to bed.”

With his cheek pressed against my shoulder, I feel him nod before slowly pulling himself off me. 

I clamber to my feet, grab my bottle of cola and head for the living room door. “Goodnight,” I whisper.

I look over my shoulder, finding him sitting in the middle of the couch. His legs spread, breathing heavily as he watches me. “Goodnight.”

I shower, put on a crop top and a pair of shorts, and brush my teeth before leaving the bathroom. As I enter my room, I realise my phone is still downstairs. Bollocks.

Looking at the clock, I realise it’s been 45 minutes. Has he come to bed? I go to the bannister on the landing, looking down the staircase to see if any lights are on – knowing that my dressing gown is in the wash and not having the energy to change. No lights. 

I tiptoe downstairs on the off chance he’s already asleep, knowing the creaks can be phenomenally loud. I glance around the kitchen. Not here.

I turn the corner into the hall and notice a dim light coming from the living room. 

The door is still open, not all the way, but enough to see in. Before I look, I listen. Leaning against the wall, hearing the soft moans of my roommate. A wet, slick sound of motion accompanies his sweet groans. 

I gulp before turning to peek, looking at him through the cracked door. His shirt off, fabric wrapped around his cock as he strokes with my phone in his free hand.

My eyes widen as I hear a familiar moan. I bite my bottom lip as I watch him admire the video I’d taken for him.

It was all fantasy until now. I filmed the video in the shower, fucking myself with my toy while I listened to him talk on the other side of the bathroom door.

I reach into my shorts, spreading my thick lips and use my middle finger to slowly circle the tip of my clit.

I watch his strokes get more urgent, rolling his hips as he clenches his jaw – his climax on the inbound.

“Sven,” the video gasps. 

He growls, picking up the pace. Finally, he throws his head back, mouth hanging open and eyes squeezed tight as he cums. A fountain unleashes, spraying onto his bare stomach. 

I cover my mouth with my free hand as I make quick work of myself, climaxing just seconds after him. The extreme wetness between my legs is a pleasant but uncommon feeling.

Porn is one thing, but seeing someone admire you and watching them cum… That’s something else.

I rest my head against the door frame, watching him pant as he continues looking at my phone.

A few minutes go by, and the video ends. He huffs, smiling as he locks the phone and sits it on the couch beside him. No longer holding his dick, just leaving it be as it twitches and jerks – still erect. The black fabric laying over his balls and wrapped around the base of his shaft.

I pull my hand out of my shorts, putting my soaked fingers into my mouth and sucking as I watch him.

He looks calm with his eyes shut and a soft smile. “Enjoy the show?” He growls.

I quickly step back, hitting the wall behind me. Eyes wide, frozen in place.

He’s in front of me within a minute. Shirtless, jeans fastened up, but cum still on his abdomen. “Are you okay?” He asks; his tone has changed from lust to concern.

I nod, my eyes glued to his body. Part of me is afraid to look up, to meet his gaze. The other part of me is trying to take a mental screenshot of the view for later.

“Belle,” he whispers.

“I just need my phone,” I blurt. “I have work in the morning, I need my phone for my alarm.”

He reaches into his back pocket, pulls my phone out, and hands it to me.

Before I say anything else or give him a chance to speak, I run.

“Isabelle!” He shouts after me.

By the time he gets upstairs and to my door, I’ve already locked it. Standing with my back against it – as if barricading myself in.

“Isabelle, talk to me,” he whispers from the other side of the door.

“Later.” I pause. “I need to go to bed.”

I hear him sigh as if defeated. “Goodnight, Belle.”

“Goodnight, Sven.”