blisters ; jayson

weed and pools;

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There are more people they have to push through right now. Smoke glides against Grayson's face left and right, his wrist trapped between Jack's fingers in a tight hold. 

They don't speak as they zig zag through the crowd, but Grayson keeps his eyes on Jack's pale fingers crunching up his sweater sleeve, his fingertips are pink or a deep fuschia when he presses too hard on his wrist bone. Grayson doesn't mind the pain from him though. 

The smell of chlorine soon begins to fill his nostrils and Grayson keeps sniffing it, the source of it is now before his eyes and it's a huge pool in the back of the house, it's surrounded by the finest marble and there's a small but eye-catching waterfall at one side of the pool. It's made to look natural by the stacking of huge rocks and pebbles and Grayson thinks he sees an inflatable water slide lying strewn on the side of the pool. 

"Here's better," Jack snuggles up to himself in his white woodie, standing at the edge of the pool, clad in his basketball shorts and high-top sneakers. He pulls the blunt to his lips again. 

"It is," Grayson sighs in relief, taking a look around. There is nobody in this area of the house except for a couple making out in the very corner of the pool. He would've almost missed them if it weren't for the girl's shiny silver hair flopping around in the water. 

It's quiet, that's what Grayson likes about it the most. He liked to dance and liked to party, but socializing with new people was just not his forte, and when he followed Ethan around all he did was stand like a wall as Ethan took the lead, until Ethan found him annoying and told him to either stop asking stupid questions or go find a girl to fondle. 

They can still hear the music though, and it's baritone bass drops that vibrates through their bodies like slow, torturous shockwaves.

He takes a short glance at Jack who was just standing there, itching the bottom of his hairy chin with a thumb while his fingers hold the joint, and he looks like he's thinking, staring off into the black night. 

Grayson puts his hands behind his back, leaning to the side as he comes closer to Jack, "Why do you smoke that?" 

The question is not accusatory, Grayson's eyes are lit up in a little bit of curiosity but not enough. 

Jack looks at him then, eyes narrowing at him with the slightest smile. His dimple does appear though, there in the corner of his mouth, a deep, deep curve of reassurance. 

"It eases my mind. Relaxes me. Lightens stress a lot," Jack takes a hit again and closes his eyes, breathing it out from his nose. 

"Really? What kind of stress do you have?" Grayson leans more over the edge of the pool and it's cute how he does it, but the question presses on Jack's nerves and he gives Grayson a strange look. Not an annoyed look, but it wasn't a positive reaction per se. 

"Sorry, didn't mean for it to sound like that," Grayson backs away and shrugs slightly.