Toast doesn't even know how this all happened. He doesn't know where his partner got the marijuana, he doesn't know why he even had marijuana, and he didn't know what was going through his head when he was sprawled out on the table with his legs kicking in the air, talking about how much he'd wish to be a tomato.
"Sir, of all things, why a tomato?" Toast asked out of curiosity, looking down at the stoned brunette. "Because Johnathan! Tomatoes don't have problems! Tomatoes don't need jobs! Tomatoes don't have toes!" He yelled loudly. Ghost sat up, looking over at Toast and smiled widely. "I can't ever think of one negative for being a tomato!" The man cheered. "I can." Toast smirked. "No you can't, Mr. Toast." Ghost argued, grabbing Toast's shoulders. "It's impossible!"
"I can't have sex with a tomato sir." Toast said, making a blush form onto Ghost's face. "Okay, but that's like. It." The flustered Ghost admitted. Toast smiled softly and kissed Ghost's forehead. "Sure it is, love."
(I saw this on an imagine your otp thing on tumblr and I thought it was pretty cute)
