That Kind of Mood

The windows of the tour bus were tinted, and right now that was a very lucky thing, because the three middle aged men who inhabited it had filled the entire back room with wispy white smoke. The sweetly acrid smell of marijuana soaked slowly into the upholstery and carpets. Considering the special occasion, they broke out the good pot - even though all the pot they smoked these days was good, this stuff was top notch - in celebration. Tre Cool was turning 37, or as Billie put it - “Catching up with the big boys.”

“Guys. Watch. Watch this. Look.” Tre stood next to the bed, blowing half formed smoke rings into the air. He looked back down with a serene expression on his face, his arms spread.

“Amazing. You’re amazing.” Mike said, leaning up on his elbows.

“I know. I know.” They stared at each other for a moment before Tre moved onto the bed and they hugged like brothers.

Billie’s head appeared, seeming to be floating in the haze. “If I whip my cock out will you two have a go at it? You guys seem to be in that kind of mood.”

“Just because you’re incapable of affection doesn’t mean we all are, Billie.” Mike scolded over Tre’s shoulder, his eyes narrowed.

“I am not incapable of affection!” Billie protested.

“Are too!”

“Are not!”

“Wanna bet?” Mike said, releasing Tre and facing Billie.

“I would if you weren’t bareass broke!”

“I wouldn’t be bareass broke if I didn’t lend you so much money!”

“You -”

“I feel like I’m sixteen again,” Tre said suddenly, stopping Billie’s words in his throat. “Well, the scenery doesn’t match, but everything else does.”

Billie snorted. “Yeah. If we were sixteen again, all this chrome and polished wood and shit would be empty bookshelves.”

“No, not empty. We had ‘em kinda filled with bongs and shit. And Mike had that damn plant in the shelf next to our bed, remember?” Tre laughed, nudging Mike with his elbow.

“Excuse me! That ‘damn’ plant was a gift from someone. And it’s still alive now, like a zillion years later. I believe that counts for something.” Mike said, huffing.

“A gift from who? It’s not like you were getting laid back then…” Billie said, knowing perfectly well Mike got laid much more than he did.

“Your mother. In all honesty. Ollie gave me the plant.”

“What?!” Billie yelled, rolling on top of Mike. “My mother gave you a plant? Why not me?”

Mike narrowed his eyes. “Probably because you’re a destructive, crusty punk and she knew that she couldn’t trust you with anything living.”
Billie’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth to let out what looked like a mighty stream of insults, but Tre yet again interrupted.

“Oh shut up, the both of you. You guys fight like an old married couple. You have since we were kids. It’s annoying.”

“Pardon us, Mr. Cool.” Mike said snottily, flouncing his hands in the air.

“You’re pardoned.”

“Screw off!”

Tre laughed, which got Billie laughing, whose tickling got Mike laughing, and soon the three men were a complete mess, laughing and rolling around all over each other like school girls. Eventually, the laughter faded to quiet chuckles. The only sound left was Billie’s loud inhaling and Mike’s loud exhaling, and suddenly, in one rushing moment, Tre realized that he’d been listening to the sound of their breathing for years. It never changed. Tre’s bleary mind struggled to process what this meant, because it felt profound, but all he knew was that it filled him with a kind of a good feeling, like a smile did.

“Good birthday, Tre?” Billie slurred, his eyes half closed. In the silence, while Tre struggled with his thoughts, the three men had ended up laying side by side, legs tangled, leaning against each other. Mike had covered Billie and Tre up with a blanket, his paternalistic nature shining through the smoke.

“Always is.” Tre slurred right back, smiling into Mike’s neck.

“Good. Love you, man.” Billie said, yawning and snuggling into Tre’s side.

“Love you too, Billie.”

There was peaceable silence for a moment, each man with half moon smiles on their relaxed faces. But Mike’s smile was just a little larger than the other’s.

“Billie? If I whip my cock out, will you have a go at it? You seem to be in that kind of mood.”