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smoking weed whenever we breathe

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I’d rather be
Smoking weed whenever we breathe
Every time you kiss me


Charlie thinks the cloud rolling from Dennis’s lips looks like a proper cloud, like a sky cloud. Dennis sharply gasps the cloud back into his mouth and it darts down his throat; bringing the joint back to his lips he takes another slow drag, eyes half-lidded as he stares down at the glowing cherry growing dangerously close to his fingers. His eyes slip shut, his head tilts back, and a few thick, perfect smoke rings slip free from his pursed lips.

A flash of blue peeks through his lashes, making sure Charlie’s watching.  “Show-off,” Charlie accuses. Dennis smirks.

“This weed is some good shit, man,” Dennis remarks, voice a little thick, throat roughed up by the smoke. He lets his eyes drift closed the rest of the way and hums softly, contently.

“Good,” Charlie grins. “Yeah, you know, uh, it’s a funny story actually, I got it from this guy I met at the, uh, well originally I know him from…”

Charlie trails off because Dennis has come over to pass the joint but didn’t stop once the joint was passed, instead coming up between Charlie’s legs while he’s sat on the desk and pressing in close, his hands on Charlie’s thighs, his lips parted and his eyelids heavy.

Charlie locks his ankles around the backs of Dennis’s knees to steady him and asks, “You good?” Clapping a hand onto Dennis’s shoulder, his eyes full of redness and concern in equal measure, Charlie adds, “You’re, uh, awfully close to me.”

“Yeah, man,” Dennis says, shrugging like he’s not sure why Charlie would bring that up. “Take a puff, man, come on. It’s good.”

“I know it’s good,” Charlie reminds him, “I’m the one who brought it.” But he takes a long drag anyway, savoring it, holding it in a long time like it’s either his first or last hit of the night despite knowing it’s far from either. He holds the smoke in for as long as he can, licks his lips to wet them and catches Dennis’s eyes dart down quickly to watch him do it.

Dennis catches Charlie’s chin between a finger and thumb, tilts it up, eyes steady on Charlie’s lips and mutters, “Don’t waste your exhale. Blow the smoke at me.”

Charlie glances up at all the wasted smoke winding aimlessly around the fluorescents but parts his lips and does as he’s told, blowing a steady stream of smoke directly into Dennis’s face. Dennis’s red-rimmed eyes slip closed, he breathes the air in deep, his face an expression of pure serenity.

“Ahh,” Dennis sighs, puffs of shared smoke flowing out his mouth and nose at the same time. “Good shit.”

Charlie chuckles softly, the sound a deep, low rumble in his chest. “You get so weird about weed, man.”

“Mm,” Dennis hums like he’s thinking it over. “Well, I like weed.”

“I like weed too, dude. Everyone likes weed.” Charlie pauses to take a quick hit and then passes it to Dennis. “You, though,” he continues, smoke streaming unhindered from his lips as he speaks, “you take it to another level. Weed gets you, like. I dunno. Like horny or something.”

“Yeah,” Dennis smirks around the joint, turns his hips sharply to the side and then nudges his hard bulge pointedly against Charlie’s leg. “Or something,” Dennis echoes, tone deceptively light. He rolls his hips hard against the inside of Charlie’s thigh. “You feel that?”

“Jesus,” Charlie mutters, catching Dennis’s hips to still them and then pushing him a few inches back. “Over here humpin’ me and shit, man, calm down. You’ve had, like. Half a joint. Christ.”

“I’m not humping you, I was just showing you,” Dennis insists. “Don’t be so defensive. Smoke more.”

Joint already halfway to his mouth, Charlie rolls his eyes. “I was gonna smoke more, you don’t gotta tell me to...” He takes a few quick puffs off it. “You get a stoner boner, good for you, man, I’m real fuckin’ proud and all but you don’t gotta be such a slut about it, is all I’m saying. Just keep it to yourself. Don’t share it with the class.”

Glancing up to pass the joint to Dennis, Charlie sees the heat in Dennis’s eyes, rolls his own in response and snaps, “That wasn’t supposed to be arousing, you sick fuck, it was meant to be insulting.”

“Same difference.” Dennis’s lips slowly, sensually curl into a crooked grin as he takes a long, greedy hit. He leans in closer as his chest expands, and blows a single, perfectly formed smoke ring into Charlie’s face, whose heavy eyelids slip closed instinctively as the smoke hits him between the eyes and dissipates into the air around him.

Dennis catches his friend by the jaw while his eyes are closed and seals their lips together, breathing the rest of his hit into Charlie’s mouth. Charlie opens up instinctively, breathes it in and takes it eagerly, but as soon as it’s done his eyes flutter open, expression unreadable, his cheeks flushed.

“Shotgunning,” Dennis says by way of explanation. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Charlie replies shakily, breathing pale air out between them. “Yeah, I know what shotgunning is, I’ve done it before, I’ve done it with you before, you should…”

“I wasn’t telling you what it was,” Dennis fires back, “I was saying we should do it.” He licks his lips. “Don’t think I ever told you, man, but you got a pretty mouth...” Dennis leans in.

Charlie leans back, “Jesus.”

Dennis eases off, quirking a brow and frowning, “What?”

“Okay, well, for starters, no, I don’t, and…”

“Sure you do,” Dennis says, reaching out and lightly tracing his thumb over the swell of Charlie’s lower lip. “I mean, you gotta give yourself some credit, Charlie, this is one grade-A mouth right here.”

Charlie pushes Dennis’s hand away, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “Okay, no, that’s just creepy,” he admonishes. “Kiss me or don’t, but don’t like, start giving me grades and shit, that’s just weird.”

“Kiss you?” Dennis asks, brightening. “Is that what you’re after, Charlie? You could’ve just said.”

Rolling his eyes and choosing not to comment, Charlie instead gestures for the joint, “Pass it already, man, it’s gone out and everything.” He grabs for the lighter and when he turns back Dennis’s mouth is right there, quickly and clumsily latching onto his. Dennis’s eyes are closed and he’s blushing; Charlie’s about to roll his eyes again but instead lets them drift closed, letting a hand fall onto Dennis’s shoulder as he kisses him back, falling into an easy rhythm the way only two people who’ve kissed a whole lot can.

Slowly trailing a hand down from shoulder to bicep to forearm, Charlie eventually gets to Dennis’s hand, takes the joint and breaks the kiss. “Need my mouth back, dude,” Charlie explains. Dennis leans back long enough for Charlie to light the joint but leans back in as soon as it’s lit. Charlie blows smoke into his face.

“I really like smoking with you,” Dennis tells him. “You always got such good shit, and you...yeah. You know. I like this. I like smoking with you.”

“Yeah, you better,” Charlie laughs, passing the joint.  “Cuz anyone else would’ve told you to go fuck yourself by now.”

“While you watch?” Dennis offers. Charlie shoves him good-naturedly in the chest and then steals the joint from out of Dennis’s mouth. “Hey!” Dennis cries in protest.

“Nuh-uh,” Charlie shakes his head and slips the joint between his own lips. “Bad jokes lose you your joint privileges.”

“Noooo,” Dennis fake-wails. He tries to steal it back but Charlie plants a hand on his chest and leans back, just out of reach. He bats Dennis’s grabbing hands away, laughing so hard the joint nearly falls.

“Sorry,” Charlie says between giggles, “I don’t make the rules.”

Pouting, Dennis cries, “I’ll be good!”

Gaze flickering down, Charlie snorts and points out, “You realize you’re saying that as you hump my fuckin’ knee, right?”

Dennis stills his hips and laughs as he wonders aloud, “Would you believe I was doing it without noticing?”

“No,” Charlie replies honestly. He grabs Dennis by the belt loops and asks, “You, uh, wanna do it somewhere else?” He pulls him flush against him, sliding forward on the desk so their bodies are pressed tight against each other. “Somewhere it might, uh, actually do something for me too? No offense, but my knee’s just not that into it.”

“Really?” Dennis throws an arm around Charlie’s neck before he can even answer. “You’re turned on too, man?”

“Yeah, dude,” Charlie admits. “I dunno why. I think maybe, uh, maybe it’s this strain of weed? Maybe it just, like, does that?”

“Yeah,” Dennis all-too-eagerly agrees. “I think I’ve heard that. Certain types of weed can...yeah. I think I’ve heard that.”

Charlie takes the joint from his own mouth and slips it between Dennis’s lips, then gets both hands into Dennis’s back pockets and rolls his hips hard against Dennis’s. Dennis moans, a cloud of smoke escaping along with the noise.

“Yeah?” Charlie grins cockily. He grinds against him again; this time Dennis meets him halfway. Charlie grunts softly, Dennis again lets out both a sharp cry and a puff of smoke. Charlie slides even further forward on the desk, dangerously far, forcing Dennis to catch him by the backs of his thighs and help support his weight lest he fall.

“I gotcha,” Dennis assures him. Charlie locks his knees around Dennis’s waist, frees one hand from Dennis’s back pockets in order to grab the joint from Dennis’s mouth and get it into his own. As soon as the half-smoked blunt is safely pressed between his lips, Charlie uses his free hand to pop the snap open on Dennis’s jeans and tugs harshly enough on the material that the zipper goes down on its own.

“Fuck yes,” Dennis cries, but Charlie abandons the open jeans to instead slide a hand up under Dennis’s t-shirt, tracing up the middle of his stomach and scraping nails lightly along Dennis’s chest. Blowing smoke out his nose, Charlie flicks a nipple, not bothering to be gentle, at the same time that he arches his hips up sharply off the desk, gliding the length of his hard, trapped cock against the hard bulge of Dennis’s.

“Charlie,” Dennis groans. His grip tightens on Charlie’s thighs, slides up to grab him by the ass instead and pull him more fully against him. Dennis leans forward, forcing Charlie to lie back a bit on the desk. “Bite me, bite my neck.”

“With a lit joint in my mouth?” Charlie fires back.

“Fuck,” Dennis growls, stealing the joint again. As soon as it’s in Dennis’s mouth, Charlie leans up and secures his own lips right over Dennis’s pulse point. He sucks at the skin as Dennis sucks on the joint, bites down as soon as Dennis pulls the joint away and ruins any attempt to hold the smoke in by making Dennis cry out and release a decent-size plume of smoke into the air almost immediately.

Sucking and biting at the skin in equal turn, Charlie again scratches down Dennis’s chest, less gently this time, catching the peak of one nipple with the nail on his pinky finger. Charlie feels Dennis’s cock twitch in his pants; Dennis squeezes Charlie’s ass roughly in his hands and pulls him even tighter against him, seemingly trying to hold Charlie closer than is technically possible.

Charlie wraps his arms around Dennis’s neck and lifts himself up slightly, pressing their mouths together in an open-mouthed kiss. Their tongues tangle in the open air, desperate and sloppy, a little too messy for Charlie’s tastes but that’s the exact sort of shit he knows Dennis likes, and he can feel the dull rumble in Dennis’s chest where their torsos are pressed together, the vibration of barely-restrained moans proving his point.

Dennis holds up the forgotten joint, gone cold from the distraction. “Want more?” he offers. Charlie nods and Dennis puts it in his mouth for him, grabs the lighter off the desk and lights it for him too. Charlie takes a long drag, then arches up again to breathe the smoke into Dennis’s mouth. He goes to lean back down but Dennis holds him there, kissing him roughly, smoke escaping into the air every time their lips move against each other.

Leaning back for air, lips kissed red, Charlie rubs his thumb over the bite he’d left on Dennis’s throat, feeling the imprints from his teeth and watching the skin slowly going purplish red as he takes another long drag.

“Did you mark me?” Dennis asks, taking the joint as it’s passed to him.

“Yeah,” Charlie affirms, blowing smoke and pressing firmly so Dennis can feel the bruise forming, watching Dennis’s lips part in startled arousal. “Not too bad, though. It could be worse.”

“You could make it worse,” Dennis suggests. “This is almost spent,” he adds, passing the joint.

“Or we could just get off,” Charlie retorts, wriggling his hips insistently and pulling in a hit. “And then I’ll roll us another.”

“Fuck, man, deal,” Dennis agrees. He tugs his shirt off over his head and then pulls on the collar of Charlie’s jacket.

“I got it,” Charlie assures him, shoving his hands away and passing the joint back. As the jacket’s off Charlie wordlessly follows Dennis’s lead, pulling his shirt off in one quick tug.

“What’s the story there?” Dennis asks, gesturing at an old bruise fading on Charlie’s ribs with one hand and pulling the joint away from his mouth with the other.

“Fuck if I know,” Charlie replies, glancing down briefly to look at it. He runs his hand along Dennis’s chest. “You need some sun, man.”

“You need a goddamn chaperone,” Dennis retorts, finding another bruise on Charlie’s hip. “Jesus, do you leave here and just bash into everything you see on the way home?”

“Sometimes,” Charlie shrugs. “Come on, you wanna play doctor, or you wanna get me off?”

“Some people would say we’re doing both.”

“I don’t wanna do both,” Charlie replies. “I really just wanna see you come.”

“Fuck, Charlie,” Dennis gasps. He grabs Charlie’s hand, shoves it down the front of his open jeans. “Fuckin’ touch me, man, shit…”

Charlie palms Dennis’s cock with one hand and tugs his remaining clothing down with the other. “Yeah, alright,” Charlie agrees as if he’s not already doing it. “Is it still dry humping when your pants are off?”

“Can’t say I’ve ever heard of wet humping,” Dennis gasps. He tosses the spent joint onto the desk and uses his now free hands to get Charlie’s jeans undone. Charlie lifts his ass up off the table, letting Dennis tug his clothes down to his knees and then leaning back, pulling Dennis back with him.

“Think that’s just called fucking,” Charlie remarks wisely.

“Fuck,” Dennis groans, biting his lip as their bare cocks brush together. “Hump me, fuck me, I don’t care, man, just keep doing that, holy fuck.”

Knees still locked around Dennis’s waist, Charlie wraps his arms around Dennis’s shoulders, slides one hand into his hair, threads his fingers into Dennis’s curls and pulls hard. “Yeah,” Charlie grins as Dennis lets out a sharp cry. “I know you like that shit.”

“Oh my god,” Dennis whimpers, burying his face against Charlie’s throat and moaning as they find the perfect angle. “This feels insane. How is this so good?”

“Cuz you’re high as fuck, man,” Charlie laughs. “Stoned sex is the best sex, I’m telling you.”

“How many times have you had stoned sex with someone other than your hand, Charlie?” Dennis gasps between thrusts.

“Okay,” Charlie shrugs. “Fair point, but also…” He wraps a hand around both of their dicks and strokes them together, squeezing them against each other more firmly as they slide against each other. “Think you’ll agree that’s still pretty good.”

Dennis half-moans, half-sobs into Charlie’s neck, only just barely holding himself up on the desktop. Charlie rests a hand on Dennis’s jaw and stares into his eyes. Dennis licks his lips, bites down on the lower one, unable to keep his eyes open as Charlie’s strokes get increasingly faster.

“You ready to come, Dennis?” Charlie asks. “Cuz I think you’re about to feel this one in your toes.” He flicks his thumb rapidly over the head, sharing the motion between both of them, stuttering out a moan himself even as he teases Dennis.

True to Charlie’s word, Dennis clutches at the side of the desk, cries out sharply, and spills over Charlie’s fist. Charlie lets him go before he’s too sensitive, using Dennis’s release to coat his own final few strokes before he’s shooting white, coating his own stomach and falling back onto his elbows on the desk, knocking over a coffee mug full of pens. Dennis leans in to kiss Charlie’s parted, gasping lips.

After a moment Charlie leans away. Cheeks still flushed and slightly out of breath, Charlie remarks, “I need another joint, man.”

Stepping away and getting his clothes back into place, Dennis can’t help but laugh. “Gotta have priorities, I guess,” Dennis replies easily.

“Oh man, you think a cigarette after sex is good, a joint’s even better,” Charlie explains.

“Okay,” Dennis concedes. “I still have a hard time believing anyone’s having sex with you but you.”

“And you,” Charlie points out. He glances around. “Where’d my jacket end up?”

Dennis gestures, “Underneath you.” Charlie hops up, takes the opportunity to get half dressed and then fumbles in his jacket pocket for a small baggie of pot and some rolling papers. He bends down, leaning onto his elbows against the desktop, still shirtless, his own come slowly drying on his skin, and sets to work rolling. Dennis leans back against the desk, watching Charlie over his shoulder.

“Surprised Mac and Dee haven’t noticed we’re missing yet,” Charlie remarks as he sprinkles shredded green into the folded paper. “Figured they’d be getting pissed by now.”

“That’s assuming they haven’t gone off somewhere too,” Dennis replies. “You know how many times they get in some stupid fight and just both fuck off home?”

“Yes,” Charlie says emphatically, standing up and leaning against the desk, shoulder-to-shoulder with Dennis with the half-rolled joint in his hands. He pauses to flicker a wet pink tongue over the edge, moistening the paper and then quickly flattening it along the joint, rolling it between his fingers.

“The other day,” Charlie continues, reaching back for the lighter. “They got in a fight and both left, so I had to just go home.”

“Had to,” Dennis echoes with a snort. “Like you weren’t dying to just go home and get high.”

Charlie laughs, slipping the joint between his lips and flicking the lighter a couple times before he gets it to spark. “Guilty,” he admits, smoke escaping as he speaks. He passes the joint to Dennis.

“You know you could just do that here,” Dennis says as he lifts the joint to his lips. He sighs out his nose as the smoke rolls over his tongue. “Mmm. Especially if you got shit this good. Just do it here and share.”

“I’ll share, man,” Charlie assures him, their fingers brushing together as Dennis passes the joint back. “You know I always do.”

“Yeah, man,” Dennis says. “I know.”


Don’t know why just know I want to
Don’t know why just know I want you