#stoner porchay

[live-from-flaturn]

French Inhale

This absolutely wild ficlet was brought to you in part by @foxandfall, whose convo led me to the conclusion that not only can Porchay do a French Inhale, he uses this Secret Bad Boy Skill to tease Kim beyond the point of fairness.

stoner lingo: roach = tiny bit of remaining weed at the tip of the joint (where your lips go), toke = hit/pull/drag, you gotta cough to get off = you have to take big hits and cough to get really high, 

tws: adults using legal mind-altering substances (smoking weed), horny vibes

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Kim found Chay on the balcony of their new apartment, leaning his elbows back against the smooth metal railing. A lit joint hung precariously in the space between his pointer and middle fingers and a thin tail of blue-white smoke curled up through the air. Kim’s eyes followed its shifting column until they were inevitably drawn to the dangerously exposed length of his boyfriend’s neck, which tensed and relaxed appealingly as he opened his mouth to exhale.

“Long day?” Kim asked, voice miraculously normal. 

Chay offered a throaty, tired hum in lieu of a reply. Long didn’t begin to cover the kind of day he’d suffered through, but everything was fine right now. Kim was moving steadily closer, the weed was good – nothing less than the best for Wik’s secretive muse/boyfriend, and a buffet's worth of food was on its way from Porsche and Kinn as a ‘thank you’ for handling their shit all afternoon.

“Brothers?”

“Mhm.”

“Was it that stupid fucking wedding I warned them about?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m sorry, angel.”

Chay didn’t want Kim to be sorry at the moment, however. Not like that. 

Determined to turn the entire evening (and this conversation) around, Chay straightened his posture and took another slow drag of the joint before offering it to Kim. Once the mafia heir had taken a nice lungful, Chay parted his glossy lips. He coquettishly revealed the rolling white cloud of spicy marijuana smoke that sat hovering within the curved bowl of his tongue. 

With the kind of precision that only came with lots of practice, he inhaled through his nose and felt the smoke start trickling upward from his mouth in a smooth, impressive wave. Kim swallowed, which was a huge mistake because he still hadn’t released the last hit he’d taken. 

Coughing uncontrollably but also desperate not to lose sight of his boyfriend’s confusingly hot display, Kim planted both hands on his knees and stared Chay down. Chay shrugged nonchalantly and shot him a wink, “You gotta cough to get off, babe.”

When he could breathe properly again, Kim pointed accusingly up at him and wheezed, “You know that’s not what that means.”

“So?”

Chay took the joint back and used his free hand to pull Kim close, tucking the shorter man into his side. He took an enormous toke and buried his face in Kim’s unstyled hair. When the burn grew too painful for him to hold another second, he lifted his chin, sighed, and watched any remaining grey wisps disappear in the breeze. Kim plucked the roach away with a look that said ‘you’re finished’, so Chay chose to occupy his hands by fitting them over his boyfriend’s hips instead. 

He squeezed without any shame whatsoever, having openly professed his feelings about Kim’s delicate waist a long while ago. Held flat to his chest as Kim now was, he felt the idol tense in a distinctly excited way. Kim shoved the depleted roach into their novelty bootlegged-Hello Kitty ashtray and twisted around in one smooth go. 

The movement temporarily broke Chay’s hold on him, but once he’d gotten situated with his face to Chay, Kim put them right back where they belonged. He tilted his head up to look at Chay, “Wanna go inside?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You tired, or about ready for a snack?” Kim teased. “I think the foo-”

He was interrupted by Chay’s decision to lift him up and throw him over one annoyingly broad shoulder. 

“Hey! Put me down! Chay!” 

“Why should I put you down, P’Kim?” Chay laughed. He moved inside and closed the sliding balcony door behind them, Kim flopping back and forth with each half-turn of his torso. He planted a firm smack to Kim’s ass and laughed at the surprised yelp it got him in response. “Didn’t you just ask me if I wanted a snack?”

“That’s not what-”

“Then you should have been more specific.”

And if their awkwardly delivered dinner was a little cold by the time they got around to eating it? Oh well. You wouldn’t hear either of them complaining.