“Dude, I got it!” Dalton swings into the room with a plastic bag in his hands, met with Dana’s eyes lighting up and reaching over to him for a high-five.

“Dude,” Dana says emphatically, eyeing the baggie.

Cole eyes it, asking automatically, “What is that?” He has his suspicions, though; Dana and Dalton had been talking in hushed undertones all week, behind Jill’s back. Gabe had been their lookout. Will also looks adorably puzzled (well, Cole thinks, everything Will does is adorable) so Cole’s glad he’s not the only one out of the loop.

Dalton snorts. “Weed, duh.”

“Where’d you get that?” Will asks. He’s staring at the bag like he’s never seen marijuana in his life, but Cole hasn’t either, and he’s pretty sure Dana hasn’t, just really wants to try it.

“I know a guy,” replies Dalton with no elaboration.

“D’you know how to roll a joint?” Gabe’s sprawled back on the bean bag, playing a first person shooter game on the tv. Cole and Will had only been discussing what they could do for their next mashup while Dana was texting some girl. Dana’s always texting some girl.

Dalton shrugs. “Kinda. My friends always did it for me.”

“Do you have,” Cole can see that Will is stumbling over the words, “a lighter?”

Dalton gives him an incredulous look. “No. I’m just going to eat the weed and get high.”

“Okay, okay,” Will puts his hands up, but Dalton’s grinning at him and Dana’s laughing from over the tabletop. “I just, you know, wanted to make sure you had all your ingredients or whatever until you make a weed brownie or something.”

“I’m pretty sure they don’t need a lighter to make a weed brownie, dude,” says Cole from the side.

Will shrugs, like, how was I supposed to know?

This is his basement, though, and Cole wouldn’t doubt that Will would go up to his kitchen to get a candle lighter to help them get lit. Cole’s always been curious—honestly, he thought he’d experiment with this sort of thing earlier, like when he first got into IM5—but their managers and PR team want them to keep a G-rated image, and all of Dalton’s friends are back at Texas. Cole imagines he’d gotten a friend of a friend of a friend or something who was in L.A. to hook them up with drugs. Not that Cole’s against it, really, so as long as he hadn’t gotten caught. He kind of expected Gabe to know a bit more, but the one time he’d asked Gabe had just confessed to being a big wuss, only mooching off other guys getting high, never buying his own stock himself.

Dalton says, “Yo, get me some paper,” and Will tears one out and hands it to him. None of them can resist watching as Dalton tears some off, rolls the shrubs inside, and then when he’s done stuffing a bit more at one end.

“Do you need tape too?” Will asks, holding out the tape roller.

Dalton frowns at it for a second, then, “Nah.” He tightens the blunt until both ends of it are twisted, like a crumpled piece of paper stuffed into a pair of jeans in the wash.

Dana whistles. “Skillz, right there,” he says, as Dalton flips it around and admires it.

“I know right?” Dalton says with a grin. He pops his lighter out and offers both around. “Who wants to go first?”

Cole puts his hand up, declining. Dana says, “Not me,” and Will shakes his head. It’s hard to see Gabe’s face when he’s wearing sunglasses and staring at the tv screen, but it’s pretty much a no, anyway.

Dalton shrugs. “Fine then, I will,” he says, passive aggressive but teasing. He sticks the blunt in his mouth and lights it at the end.

Will asks, “So do we like… all put our mouths on that thing?”

Dalton raises his eyebrows at him as Cole asks, “Dude, you’re gonna do it too?”

Will furrows his eyebrows at him. “Yeah. Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“Not—No, no, it’s just.”

It wouldn’t ruin Cole’s image of Will, necessarily, just that he didn’t think that Will was the type to want to do it. Or to even consider it. Cole shrugs and Will raises his eyebrows, so he says, “Germs, y’know.”

Will scoffs. “We’re getting high. I’m pretty sure germs are the least of my worries.”

After himself, Dalton passes the paper to Dana, who takes a sharp, long drag, before he starts coughing. “Oh, dude,” he says, beating at his chest. “Bad idea, bad idea.”

Cole, Will, and Dalton are laughing. Even Gabe has glanced up from his video game.

“You laugh now,” Dana says semi-viciously to Cole and Will, “but wait until it’s your turn.”

“I will,” says Cole.

“I bet you that I won’t cough when I smoke it,” says Will.

Dana narrows his eyes, because he loves bets and Will knows it. Will has hit his weak spot.

Cole one-ups him by saying, “I bet you that neither of us are gonna cough when we smoke.”

Dana turns to him too. “You’re on,” he says. “Both you chums are gonna lose fifty bucks tonight.”

“Ten,” says Will.

“Twenty.”

“Fifteen,” says Cole.

“Fifteen,” Dana agrees.

“Together,” says Will. Cole grins over at him and they exchange a high five.

Dana rolls his eyes. “Fifteen together, whatever,” he says, and hands the blunt to Cole.

Cole’s seen people on tv smoke cigarettes, and has heard Dalton’s stories, so it shouldn’t be that hard, right? He takes the end of the blunt, which is still a little damp (and his brain fills the space that says Will’s mouth is going to be on this next) and sticks it between his lips. He tries to suck as shallowly as he can, but he sucks from his throat and it all goes down too quickly and then he’s coughing up smoke, grey and thin in front of his face.

“Ha!” Dana crows. “Seven-fifty, Cole! You owe me! Let’s see Will next.”

“If I don’t cough, will it just be Cole?” Will asks, as Cole hands the blunt over to him. Their fingertips brush and Cole pretends not to notice.

Dana grins. “Nah, you still have to give me money.”

Will shrugs, though, and sends Cole a look that says, oh well. Cole definitely stares too long as Will wraps his lips around the blunt, trying to figure out how to take a hit properly.

When he does, he pulls away coughing too, cheeks slightly red and hacking from his chest. Dana leaps from where he’s resting against the armchair and goes, “I’m fifteen dollars richer to-night! Guess who’s gonna be a zillionaire?”

“Stop shouting, you’re hurting my head,” Dalton complains. He’s been watching Gabe play his video game this whole time while texting his girlfriend. Dana goes to get the blunt from Will and hand it to Gabe.

“I guess we’re seven dollars poorer,” says Will, coming over to stand next to Cole against the pool table.

“Seven fifty,” Cole corrects, and Will laughs.

“That’s not too bad,” he says, watching as Gabe expertly takes a hit and hands it back to Dalton. Dalton is now complaining about them using too much saliva and wiping the part of the blunt that’s not burning against his shirt. “Could’ve been fifty bucks.”

Will snorts. “Like I’d bet fifty bucks against Dana for anything.”

Cole smiles at him, because Will is nice-looking and Cole’s head is light. The pool table doesn’t feel as hard as it did a minute ago, so he bumps his back against it, needing to feel the edge above his backside.

Will furrows his eyebrows, adorably. “What was that for?” he asks. “What did the table ever do to you?”

“Everything,” Cole laughs, and hits himself again. That time it hurt. “Ow.”

“Ow,” Will echoes, even though he hadn’t been the one to hit himself. Or maybe he did; Cole can’t really see from here. Will’s hair is so big and everywhere and never feels as soft as it looks. Cole knows because he’s touched it many times before.

Dana comes over to them with the blunt. He giggles when he peers behind him. “Hey guys, y’know what we should do? Play pool.”

“Excellent idea,” Dalton slurs, coming to join them. Gabe is still playing the video game. “I am a pool master.”

“No you’re not,” laughs Will, turning around with his hands folded over his chest.

Dalton puts a finger over his own lips and lets out an obnoxious, “shh.” Cole feels weird at the thought of Dalton and Will playing pool together before—maybe in Will’s basement. Cole doesn’t like thinking about it.

He says, “I’m a pool master, too.”

“Yeah, right.” Dalton’s already pulled off a billiard from the wall. Dana is rearranging the balls on the table into the triangle, though he’d put the white one at the top. Dalton tries to fight him for it, but when Dana refuses to let him take it, Dalton huffs, “Fine, I’ll just use the eight ball.” He plucks it from the side and Dana yelps at him.

“Dalton’s really terrible,” Will assures Cole.

Cole snickers. “I bet.” He wants to ask Will why he hadn’t been invited to play pool. Cole is good company.

He realizes he’s still holding the blunt in his hand, having not smoked it yet. He glances over at Will—he’s watching Dalton and Dana with amusement, and he hasn’t had his second hit yet.

Cole asks, “Do you wanna go?” and offers it out to him.

“Oh!” Will pauses for a moment. “Yeah, sure.” He takes the blunt and looks at it for a second. “I don’t know how to do this without coughing, though.”

“Don’t use your throat,” Dalton offers from the side. “Use, like, the back of your mouth.” He’s getting himself in ready position, two fingers at the edge of the table.

Will shrugs. “I’ll try that.”

Cole watches as he draws the paper between his lips, eyebrows creased in concentration, cheeks pinched as he follows Dalton’s rules. He doesn’t cough, kind of swallows; when he’s done a wispy stream of smoke flutters between his lips. He beams.

“Whoa,” he says. “That was—I think I did it right.”

Cole blinks, then smiles back. “I think you did it right, too.”

Will hands him the blunt, the mouth end a bit wet from just moments ago. Cole sticks it between his lips, thinking about what Dalton had said, keeping the smoke in his mouth. He lets it sit there, thick and happy, one of his hands hooked at his elbow. After a moment, he exhales, letting the smoke run down his throat and also bump out of his mouth.

“We’re pros,” says Will’s voice. Cole had been so focused on smoking that he’d forgotten Will was there.

He turns to Will, smiling. Actually, he can’t stop smiling; Will is grinning at him more controlled, and Cole’s cheeks hurt.

“My cheeks hurt,” Cole says, and Will laughs into the heel of his palm.

Dalton, from his terrible game of pool (well Cole can’t really tell, but he’s probably not assuming wrong), calls, “He’s a smiler!”

Gabe thrusts up a thumbs up from the couch.

“I am not a smiler,” Cole says, smiling. “I’m just.” He puts the blunt on the table, then presses his fingers to his cheeks and tries to control his mouth.

Will giggles.

“You’re a smiler,” he chides, and Cole lets his hands drop down.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” he says. “I’m a smiler.”

Will’s body is warm next to him. His cheeks are flushed and Cole thinks absently that they’re both probably high enough. Cole wants to kiss Will’s big cheeks. Kiss the column of his throat. Wonders how soft Will’s mouth is.

Dalton has his tongue sticking out as he concentrates on his game, so Cole turns his attention to that instead. “Parkour!” he shouts, throwing himself on the table and messing up Dalton’s balls.

Dalton splutters, but Cole starts giggling from the velvet surface. “Ha,” he says, as Dalton storms over to him. “I messed up your balls—eep!”

“Cole,” Dalton growls, and Cole jumps off from the table, laughing. He bumps into the overhead lamp but it doesn’t really hurt against his shoulder. Dana is yelling, “Fight fight fight!” from the ground, as Will’s going, “Guys, just—that’s my dad’s table, don’t break it or anything—”

So Cole jumps off, because Mr. Behlendorf is nice and Will is nice. Will is so nice.

Cole runs behind him and says, “Protect me Will!” He half-expects Will to throw his arms out or something, but Dalton easily snatches at him, and Cole jumps out of the way.

“You didn’t protect me!” Cole calls over his shoulder.

Will protests, “You—I didn’t—” His voice is getting increasingly high-pitched. “I’m high,” he points out.

“I’m high, too!”

“You’re gonna be dead,” Dalton threatens, as Cole dives under the table.

Cole giggles. Dalton is trying to get under here too, but apparently his sense of ups and downs are messed up when he’s stoned, because when he bends down his eyebrows are furrowed and he needs to stand up again. He keeps looking at Cole without really trying to go after him.

“You won’t get away with this Pendery!” he says, half-heartedly, staring up above the pool table somewhere.

Cole giggles again.

Then, to his surprise, something warm is slid under with him. It takes Cole a second to realize that that something is someone, and that someone is Will. He’s bent down a little so he can fit, and his eyes are bright and a little hazy like he’s trying to see Cole properly.

“Marijuana is weird,” Will says plainly. He’s a little shrouded by the surface of the table, but the red in his cheeks remains visible. Cole wonders if his skin is hot to the touch.

“Are you finally here to protect me?” he asks.

“Of course.” Will nudges his shoulder with Cole’s. “I would’ve last time, but you were—you were too—” He breaks off, and then laughs. “I don’t know what I want to say.”

His lips are so big. They look so comfortable. Cole asks, “Can I kiss you?”

He’s really only kissed one boy before, on a dare. He’s never really liked boys before, though he figures it’s hard not to like Will: he’s Will. Cole really, really likes Will, really wants to kiss him.

The world slows when Will’s breath hitches and his eyes flicker down to Cole’s lips. Then he’s looking into Cole’s eyes.

“Sure,” Will whispers.

Cole leans in, because Will is sitting on the floor and Cole is kind of on his knees, so he presses his hands against Will’s chest. Will gasps, soft and inexperienced. He makes a small noise like a moan and a hum, as Cole brings one hand up to his cheek, stroking at it delicately with his thumb. Will isn’t pressing back hard enough, in Cole’s opinion, so he continues moving and moving—

Will’s back hits the ground, but the angle is better. Cole brings a hand between them and thumbs at Will’s lower lip, and Will, sleepy and stoned, parts, letting Cole lick into him. Will tastes like smoke and their dinner at Texas Roadhouse earlier, because he’d been eating ribs, and Cole had laughed when Will got barbecue sauce all around his mouth and thought about licking it off. This is better, just getting the aftertaste around Will’s tongue, which is plush and hesitant and twisting around Cole’s own. Cole groans and shifts so his hands are on either side of Will’s shoulders, sitting off to the right side, killing his elbow but who cares because Will’s tongue is scraping along the ridge of his bottom teeth.

Cole is pretty sure he hears Dalton go, “Whoa!” and Dana call, “Gaaaay,” (which doesn’t mean anything, because one round of Never Have I Ever he’d confessed to having a crush on and making out with a boy before.) It doesn’t really register, but eventually they need to break apart for air.

Cole lifts his head up, the sound of their lips extracting from each other making a soft wet pop. Will is red and breathing heavy from under him, eyelids heavy and pupils diluted.

“Um,” says Will, licking his lips.

Cole stares at him. He wants to keep doing it. He doesn’t feel half as high as before—“Yeah,” he says, to Will.

“I,” says Will. “Um.”

Dalton ducks down and manages to look at them quick enough to get in, “Will, if you and Cole are gonna bang under the table, don’t do it while the rest of us are here!”

Cole feels himself blush. Will does too, even redder than before. Cole is, yeah, hard in his pants, but in a nice and slow way, not an aching way. He tries to adjust himself discreetly, but Will glances at him and notices.

Cole wants to make an excuse, but his brain is too slow. And Will suggests, “We could go to my bedroom if you want?” and there’s something—hopeful in his eyes.

Cole’s heart skips a beat. He hears himself say, “Okay.”

“I can smell sex!” Gabe calls.

Cole frowns. Will shouts back, “You cannot, we’re not having sex.” He tries to sit up, fumbles a little, and then rights himself. He starts crawling out from under the table. Cole stares at his ass.

“We’re going to my room,” Will says, as he stands back up.

Dalton makes a gagging noise and Dana goes, “Aw, dude, TMI!”

“Yeah,” Will says indignantly. “And. Yeah. You better not come up there, unless you want it to smell like—”

“Will.” Cole’s managed to come out, and places a hand on Will’s waist. He’d meant to touch his shoulder, but Will’s waist was nearer, so that’s where his hand wound up. “Let’s just go.”

“You crazy kids have your fun,” Dalton teases in some terrible southern woman accent.

Will sticks his tongue out at him, so Cole does too. “Is your room in its usual place?” he asks when he’s done, and Will giggles.

He grabs for Cole’s hand, which Cole hadn’t expected.

“Yeah,” Will says, grinning bright and lazily leading them up the staircase. “C’mon.”

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got me some type of way

by aroceu

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© 2009-2026 aroceu