420 Brah, Blaze It!

"Alex come on!" Jack begged, giggling at who knows what, "It'll be fun and you know it!"

I sighed, "I don't know Jack, it seems kinda squeevy. Plus, your parents could walk in any minute."

I was currently lying on the bed in my best friend's room, watching him get high. In the four years I'd been friends with Jack Barakat, I'd never had expected him to be the stoner type. But hey, looks can deceiving I guess.

It was about 20 minutes ago when I walked in on him "lighting up" or whatever it's called. I wouldn't know, I'd never even thought about smoking anything, much less marijuana. I hate to sound like a sissy, but all if those "don't do drugs" campaigns elementary schools used worked on me 100%. They scared me shitless. I'd never even seen the stuff in person before I saw his.

"Alex!" Jack whined, "You're just being a pussy! You know my parents don't give a fuck. You need to lighten up, have some fun brah."

"I'm perfectly capable of having fun without using illegal substances brah," I shot back.

Jack sighed over-dramatically, "Fi-ine. But if you're not gonna smoke, go get me some food from downstairs. I'm starving."

I shook my head and sighed, "What do you want?"

"Cheetos!" he exclaimed, "And Oreo cookies and grape soda!"

"Oh my god, you fucking stoner," I muttered, "I'll be right back."

"Yay!" he cheered, "Alex's getting me food!"

I sighed again before leaving the room; making sure to close the door behind me. I really don't need Jack's parents walking by and seeing the smoke. Even though they'd probably smell it first. But that doesn't really concern me too much. I mean, as long as I'm sober I can't get in trouble right? Right.

I made my way down the stairs and through the living room. I saw Jack's dad passed out on the couch in front of the television. Typical Saturday evening. Not that there's anything wrong with that. If I wasn't friends with Jack, I'd probably be doing the same. Jack's mom was nowhere to be found; now that I think about it, I think she said she was going somewhere when she let me in. I don't know, I wasn't really paying attention.

I waltzed into the kitchen and grabbed the practically brand new bag of Cheetos from the counter before heading to the fridge. I didn't see any grape soda, so I figured he'd just have to deal with orange. Besides, grape's disgusting anyway.

I quietly slipped through the living room and back up the stairs. By the time I reached Jack's door the smell of pot was so strong I wanted to gag. I hoped my clothes didn't smell too terrible. All I needed was my mom picking up the scent and starting to ask question.

When I opened the door, I saw a thick haze of smoke was filling the room. Jack was sitting on the bed still; a dopey grin in his face.

"Food!" he cheered, making grabby hands at what I was holding.

I tossed him the bag of Cheetos, "You didn't have any Oreos or grape soda. So this'll have to do."

I don't think he even heard me though, he was too busy cramming fistfuls of the cheesy snack into his mouth. I cringed at the sight.

"Alex look," he giggled, holding up a random Cheeto, "It looks like a penis."

He then burst into giggles. I chuckled uncomfortably at the sight. He was acting like an immature 8 year old–two years younger than how he normally acted. When I came over, it was under the pretense that we'd be hanging out and doing stuff together. But it looked like Jack was in his own little world. It kind of made me want to leave.

He discarded the bag of food and made his way to the desk. He pulled a zip lock bag out of the drawer and held it up, "It's not too late Alex," he said, dangling the bag, "I have enough for one more."

I sighed. Maybe I should. If I don't coming over will have been a waste of time. Also, I don't want Jack to think less of me for being too afraid. And, one time isn't enough to do any real damage, right? Yeah.

"Fine."

Jack smiled brightly, "Yay! Gettin high with my best guy!" He then broke out in another giggle fit.

A couple minutes later he handed me a lit blunt, "Ok, so all you gotta do is put it in your mouth, take a deep breath and hold it for as long as you can, then let it all out. You might have to do it a few times before you feel good."

I bit my lip before putting it in my mouth. It was a strange sensation, knowing that I had weed between my lips. But I inhaled anyways, coughing almost immediately. It felt like my throat was being scorched.

"Jack that was terrible!" I exclaimed.

He giggled again, "Try again, slower this time. You get used to it."

I don't know if I wanted to get used to it. But nonetheless, I followed his instructions. It wasn't quite as bad this time and I was able to hold it in a little longer. But it still felt terrible on my throat.

"Good!" Jack praised, "Now do it a few more times and we can have some fun."

I wanted to make a comment about how preverted that sounded, but I kept it to myself. I repeated the process of couple of times before I started to feel light headed. The room was spinning around me and my vision was clouded. It was almost like I was underwater.

"S'it supposed to feel like this?" I questioned, my words coming out lazy and slurred.

Jack giggled, "You're on your way brah. Just give it a minute."

I giggled with him and examined the Blink 182 poster on his wall, "Tom Delonge is super fucking hot. Ya know?"

"Dude that's gay!" Jack said, giggling still.

"You're gay!" I shot back, suddenly feeling super offended. I was just making an accurate statement. Dudes are hot, especially Tom Delonge. I don't see the big deal.

"Maybe I am," Jack countered, sounding more defensive and irritated rather than light hearted.

"Well maybe I am too," I said back, taking a minute to think about what I had said.

I mean, I've had girlfriends before, but I've never really done anything passed making out; I've never wanted too. I looked up at the poster again; my mouth practically salivating over the members of my favorite band. I glanced over at Jack; he was staring at me intently with his big brown beau-eyes. And yeah, my best friend is really attractive. Maybe I actually am gay.

"I think I am gay," I said, my words slightly slurred, yet completely serious.

Jack giggled slightly, "That's cool man. Dicks are awesome, I'd know. I'm gay too."

"For reals?" I practically yelled.

Jack smirked and nodded, "A flaming homo. I'm not so sure about you though, maybe we should test it out."

I was about to ask how when I felt a pair of hands on my cheeks and foreign lips against mine. I tensed up for a few moments before moving my lips against Jacks. His lips felt dry and clammy, yet soft and nice. My stomach felt like an angry swarm of butterflies was going to come bursting out and attack everything in sight.

It only got worse–err, better?–when Jack opened his mouth and started sucking on my bottom lip. I opened my mouth and allowed my tongue to slowly start creeping out. I was met eagerly by Jack's tongue as he licked at my top row of teeth. I took the opportunity to force my tongue into his mouth completely. As I explored the strange new place, I noticed that he tasted like Cheetos and burnt popcorn. And yeah, making out with my best friend shouldn't feel this good.

After what felt like an eternity of nipping, suckling and licking did I finally have to pull back to breathe. Jack sat backwards on the bed, breathing heavily.

"Yeah, you are definitely gay brah."

I smirked before crawling over and kissing him again.

~

It was like a sensory overload. I couldn't process anything going on around me. Everything was simply Jack.

I let out a breathy moan, "Jack, please."

"You close baby?" he taunted, hitting my spot harder and harder.

I let out a screech as the feeling in my lower guy became almost unbearable. I needed a release, right now. And I needed Jack to give it to me. He slammed into me a few more times before I couldn't hold it in anymore. With a mix of profanities and incoherent sounds, I came all over my chest.

Raw pleasure, that's all I could describe it as. I must of whited out for a moment or two, because the next thing I knew, Jack was rolling off of me and panting heavily.

"That was..."

"Amazing?" I offered.

I looked over at my boyfriend to see him nod, "Yeah. First time in our bed couldn't have been better."

I smiled at him. It's hard to believe that three years have passed since we got high together and made out in his bedroom. And I can happily say that I do not regret letting him pressure me into smoking. If I hadn't than we never would've gotten together, meaning I wouldn't be laying next to him I'm our brand new, shared apartment. And I definitely wouldn't be in love with him.

I rolled over and draped an arm over his chest, "I love you Jack," I murmured hesitantly. We have yet to say those three words, but I know that I feel it.

He looked at me, his eyes slightly wide and his mouth formed into that dopey grin that makes his whole face light up, "I love you too Alex."

I smiled up at him, "It's hard to believe that this whole thing started with you pressuring me into getting high and a poster of Tom Delonge making me question my sexuality."

His eyes flickered around the room and he chuckled uncomfortably, "There's something you need to know about that night Lex..." he said sheepishly.

I raised an eyebrow, "What's that?"

"Um, it's kind of a funny story actually," he started, "Well the guy that I bought the pot from thought it would be funny to replace one of the bags with oregano."

"What are you saying?" I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

"I must've been too high to notice, so I didn't figure it out until after you left the next day," he said, "But, the blunt I gave you didn't actually have any marijuana in it. You smoked oregano."

I stared at him blankly, "I don't understand. It felt like I actually was high though."

He shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe you were expecting it so your brain just went along?"

I sighed, "Wow. I kinda feel our relationship was founded on lies now."

"What? Alex, no," he said, "If anything it makes the foundation of our relationship more legitimate. I mean, I've told you before that I was attracted to you before we made out. And even if your brain tricked you into thinking you were baked, you were the one that asked me on a date the next day."

I shrugged, "I guess so. It's not like you did it on purpose."

"Of course not," he affirmed, pulling me into his chest, "I actually did smoke pot that night."

"Why'd you wait so long to tell me though?" I wondered.

He shrugged again, "You never really brought up that night. I don't know if you were embarrassed or ashamed or what."

"I was both," I said, feeling my cheeks heat up, "Until you told me you liked me I felt uncomfortable about the whole situation."

He laughed lightly, "Well, it all worked out and that's what matters."

I snuggled farther into his chest, "Yeah."