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There were things about James that Will chose to ignore. The way his stubble grew the day after he shaved, the way his shoulders flexed when he picked up Otto—newly developed muscles being used for what they were meant for. He also blinded himself from the way James’ eyes would shine above his shit eating grin whenever he made a joke. He never paid attention to the way his vest fit him, stretches of fabric clinging to skin. The way James focused his attention, eyebrows knit with a small frown, didn’t seem to bother Will in the slightest. His breath never hitched, even when James would remove a jumper, his shirt riding up to expose dark hair trailing below his belt.
That was until now.
James found Will attractive, of course he did. He was handsome and funny as fuck. What else do you need? But they met when Will was with Mia so he buried the attraction deep, never letting it see the light of day.
That was until now.
Will was rummaging through James’ cabinets, looking for something to snack on. The goal was crisps but it seemed something small got in the way, a bag that Will grabbed from the shelf, bringing it closer to inspect. It was opaque silver, unlabelled but definitely full. He wasn’t one to snoop on his friend but curiosity killed the cat and satisfaction brought it back. It had an unusual seal, difficult to open, almost… child locked? As soon as Will’s fingers pried it open, an earthy and full scent ghosted into his nose. It was an undeniable smell, one that could not be mistaken. And surely enough, it was accompanied by a healthy stash of dried green flower.
“Mate?” Will called out behind him to the living room. “S’this weed?”
The air seemed to stiffen. James hesitated before answering, “I've been using it sometimes, for my anxiety, you know. But I guess sometimes it's not for my anxiety.”
Will turned around and studied him with a raised eyebrow, his eyes squinting low.
James backtracked, “it’s not like… it’s not like the booze. It’s not every night, I don’t feel awful after. I've even told my therapist about it.” He stared at his hands, “I've been meaning to tell you. Didn’t know how.”
“And you never cared to share?!”
James exploded in unexpected laughter, “That’s what you’re concerned about? Yeah man, sure you can have some.”
Will walked back to James, baggie still open, admiring the contents. He plopped down next to James on the couch, eyes not stopping its inspection, “How do you do it? Like… method?”
“Started with edibles, Kiwi made them. Then I tried his bong and I haven’t really looked back. I try not to smoke too much though, my lungs and all. Need them for shows.” He whispered that last sentence, like an embarrassing confession.
“Well then get the thing, lad. Gonna need someone to show me.”
James’ eyebrows raised an inch, “Oh! Now! Sure, yeah.” He clambered up, walking to find his bong in his bedroom. He emerged with it in hand, a humble glass object, nothing too fancy. “Got this in Amsterdam, when I did a show a while back.” Will lifted his head from the nugget he was inspecting between his two fingers, meeting eyes with James’ bong.
“Is that a rainbow cock sticker?”
“It was the cheapest one there, I just wanted to decorate it.” That was among one of the many stickers adorning the clear glass. There was also a cat that looked like Otto and a sunflower.
“But a rainbow cock? Can’t be more obvious, can it James?
Sitting back down next to Will, James set the bong down on the coffee table and unscrewed his water bottle to fill the bottom up a healthy amount. Also retrieved from his bedroom was a small shiny metal cylinder.
“Grinder?”
“You’re getting the hang of it now.” James held a hand out in front of Will, satisfied once the small nugget of weed was placed upon it. He ripped a small piece off and handed the rest back, placing the flower in the small receptacle. With careful precision, he put the cap back on and twisted, grinding it down into something pliable.
Will watched the way he worked, the tip of his tongue just peeking past his pink lips, the focus on the ritual.
Without breaking, James asked, “Mind opening a window, will you?”
“In a minute, wanna see you do this. You’re my mentor after all.”
Uncapping the grinder once more, the once attached flower now appeared ground up enough to be usable. “So now I’ll put it in the bowl,” he reached over to grab the small glass bit that stuck out the front of the bong, “This thing.” His large but nimble fingers carefully picked up a bit from the pile and placed it snug. He repeated this process until it was half full, saving the rest for another time. “Uh, usually I also use the kief on top too but it’s probably your first time in a while, so I’ll save it.”
“Kief?”
“It’s the dust that goes through the bottom mesh. Stronger than the rest of the stuff.”
“Ah,” Will said, nodding, “next time.”
“Let’s see how this one goes first, mate.”
Putting all his equipment down, only holding the bong now, James froze. “Forgot my light… care to crack the window now? And grab me my lighter from the counter, please.
“Yes, sir,” Will said with an exaggerated salute.
When he returned, the light hum of Brighton sang out the window, and fingers gently touched when the Bic was passed from one hand to the other.
“Now let me explain this to you,” James faced Will straight on, tucking a knee under himself. “I’m going to put my mouth on the long bit and light the bowl. The weed will catch and then I’m going to inhale. The smoke will gather in this large bit—the chamber–and when I feel like I have enough, I’ll remove the bowl and inhale the smoke. Got that?”
“That’s sound.”
Will stared unapologetically, excusing it for the sake of learning, as James flicked the lighter and held it towards the stem. He didn’t mistake the fact that his eyes seemed to flutter shut as he inhaled, working on instinct rather than perception. The water bubbled lightly, like a straw blowing bubbles in chocolate milk, and he watched in awe as a creamy white vapour filled the glass chamber. It swirled delicately, filling almost entirely, before James picked up the bowl and fully inhaled the smoke. He sat in silence as it settled within him, and then tilted his head up, towards the window, and blew it out gently. It was a thick smog, curling and dragging out of his lips into the air where it danced before dissipating. He didn’t cough once, a sign of a regular (or semi-regular as he insists) smoker. James didn’t say anything at first, instead sinking a bit more into the sofa, feeling the first immediate effects of the hit—mostly from the lack of oxygen. He rested the glass on his bare thigh, where his shorts had ridden up.
“Fuck me.”
“Perks of being a singer. Large lung capacity.” They both burst into laughter. “Want to try?”
“Yeah but,” Will began as he took the bong in hand, “Don’t expect anything like whatever you just did.”
“Of course not.”
Despite Will’s hesitance for himself, he still glared a burning stare into James for his attitude. “All right,” he mumbled to himself, inspecting the object closer. The warm glass pressed against his skin, exactly where it had been on James (and he definitely did not focus on that fact). With his one free hand, he fumbled with the lighter, trying and failing multiple times to get it lit with the correct angle. Frustrated, he whined, “Can y’do it?”
With a soft exhaled chuckle, James once again took the light in his hand. Their fingers unmistakably played the same game as earlier, brushing against each other in a way that wouldn’t seem outwardly sensual but was felt within both men’s minds.
Eyeing James sideways, Will hummed, implying that he was ready. The moment was drawn out, a flicker of heat close to his face as he tried inhaling.
“Harder,” James insisted.
Following his guidance, he drew the energy from his diaphragm, the distinct bubbling beginning underneath him. One, two, three seconds, “Take it out now.” Fumbling fingers removed the bowl piece as Will continued to inhale. One, two, and he lifted his face up, holding it in his lungs as he had learned to in university with a joint. Interrupting his exhale in the direction of the open window, Will burst into a fit of coughs, keeling over himself. James placed a supportive hand on his back, rubbing simple gentle circles to ground him.
“You alright? Too harsh?”
“No,” Will was able to say between coughs. Settling down, he pushed the glass back into James’ grasp and laid back against the cushions. Eyes shut, he relaxed into the moment trying to calm his breath through his nostrils. The silence was cut through by a flick and another bubble as it seemed that James wanted to finish the rest off. A few seconds later he felt it nudged against his arm.
“There’s the smallest bit left, still lit. Want?”
Will lazily nodded, accepting the offer still in James’ hands. Rather than taking it into his own, he bent over and inhaled, James holding it up for him. This hit also caused some coughs, but they were few and left as quickly as they came.
Both sinking into the couches, Will was the first to speak, “Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“How often do you do this?”
“Like… a few times a month?”
“You should invite me more. I think Kiwi likes me.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“...Or just the two of us. I like us.”
“Yeah, same.”
“What do you usually do?”
“Hmm… get food, watch movies, listen to music, talk. That sort of stuff.”
“Music. Put something on.”
“Okay your highness.”
Will giggled at the title and his own laziness, the weed surely hitting him faster than James. It was admittedly a bit embarrassing, being a lightweight, but when James started playing Boygenius softly out of his phone and turned to face him, nothing seemed to really matter. He admired the curves of his face and the way his cheekbones cut into his skin, the lowlights of the room igniting his face in a soft glow. They stared like this for a while, or more so, James allowed Will to ogle at him. “Can we snuggle?”
“You hate the word snuggle,” a clear smile lifting up James’ face.
“Not right now. Now I want to snuggle.” Without waiting for an answer, Will crawled closer to James and tucked himself into his arms.
It was nice there, comforting when his brain was going a bit fuzzy and warm. Every joint felt removed from their sockets, in a good way somehow. The strong arms surrounding him made the feeling stay in the back of his mind, while the close proximity of James’ chest was at the forefront. It swayed him softly as he breathed, like a boat approaching a rocky shore. Orchestrating James’ limbs, Will tucked himself further, sighing in contempt.
In a low voice, James spoke, “Got me high just so you could get in my arms?”
“Mmmaybe. What, you don’t like it?”
Tightening around Will, James mumbled, “Of course I do.”
Songs passed in succession, the two men tangling themselves until they were at their utmost comfort.
“You’re a loud breather,” Will said.
“No I’m not. Nobody has ever told me that.”
“Because nobody has ever been this close to you before. Virgin.”
“I will shove you onto the floor if you don’t shut up.”
For some odd reason, this tickled Will. It made him laugh enough that tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, unable to contain himself.
“No, I’m serious Will, I’ll throw you onto the floor.”
“Ohh noo!!! No mister James, please don’t hurt me,” Will giggled in a feminine tone.
“You little bastard,” James whispered, picking Will up like he weighed 5 lbs and throwing him towards the other end of the couch. Will rolled over in glee, hysterical over James feigned anger.
After Will’s extended fit, a weak voice pulled through, “James?”
He softened his tone, “Yeah?”
“I want to try something. Would you let me try something?”
“I’m not really sure what you mean.”
“Like,” Will crawled back on his hands and knees and creeped towards James, “can I…” he sat back on his knees and put one palm on James’ cheek. The face being held was unreadable, just seemed to be anticipating something. They edged closer, inches turning into centimetres turning into millimeters. “Is it alright if I…” Will said before cutting himself off in a gentle kiss, their plush mouths colliding. The two seconds that they connected felt like hours, a surprising clash of soft and rough textures, exploring Will’s mind.
They parted, Will’s lips flattening into a thin line while James’ jaw remained dropped, breathing heavily at the surprise.
“Can you do that again?”
Will obeyed, their sweet kiss evolving with time as they began sucking on each other’s lips, nipping and licking and gathering anything they could. His hands wrapped behind James’ frame, pulling them closer, warmth enveloping. They stayed like that for hours, wrapped in each other, until their lips went numb and their highs wore off. Then they kept going, biting and thrashing and moaning, hints of metal tasting on both of their tongues. They stayed fully clothed, cautious of moving further. And then they fell asleep, skin glued together at the seams.