Illicit Beauty

Sept

    Instead of continuing his peaceful sleep on Alex's surprisingly comfortable couch, Greyson awoke to the smell of marijuana and the sound of someone coughing. He opened his eyes slowly while sitting up, rubbing his sleepy eyes like a child.
    "Did I wake you up?" Alex asked through another cough.
    "You sure did," Greyson answered with a raspy voice. "Thanks a lot for that."
Looking over, Greyson saw Alex sitting criss-cross on his bed with what looked to be a blunt, relaxed between his fingers. His upper body was bare but he was still wearing his black skinny jeans from earlier. Even from afar, it wasn't hard to see how bloodshot Alex's eyes were.
    "You can join me if you'd like, I don't mind sharing." Greyson heard from across the room, followed by the sound of someone inhaling for a few seconds.
    Greyson hesitated for a few seconds, not knowing if this was some sort of trap or not. Although, even with his hatred towards Alex, he could tell Alex wasn't the type of person to do such a thing. Besides, Greyson needed what Alex had to offer.
    Forcing himself to stand from his new bed, he slowly but surely made his way over to Alex and sat at the edge of his bed. He couldn't help but rub his tired eyes once more and let out a yawn. Judging by how dark the sky was outside, he knew it was late.
    Alex took another five-second hit before offering it to Greyson, allowing the smoke to drift between his lips. Even as a straight guy, Greyson found Alex attractive in his current state.
    When Greyson had gotten his full vision back, he noticed that Alex's chest had a large scar on one breast and a tattoo of words he couldn't understand on the other. The tattoo was interesting, but the scar caught his attention by how long it was and looked as if he had gotten cut open and stitched back together.
    "Sorry for beating you up earlier," Alex said with a sigh. "I get a little carried away when I'm mad." Greyson felt the need to apologize as well, but he also felt that it was unnecessary and would most likely bring down his image.
    Nodding, he brought the blunt to his lips and took a hit. "Shit happens."
    "Very wise words, my friend." Alex nodded as well, biting his lip as if he was concentrating. Greyson wasn't quite sure if Alex knew that he was staring at Greyson and giving off some sort of lustful vibe, but then again, the guy was high out of his mind.
    "I'm still not your friend," Greyson commented, creating an unexpected silence. Alex was no longer staring, but it was as if they had changed roles.
    "Are you a virgin?" Alex finally spoke, breaking the short amount of silence they shared. The lustful look in his icy blue--also bloodshot--eyes had faded, but he still looked as if he were trying to figure out Greyson.
    "Is this your way of telling me you're horny?" Greyson couldn't help but laugh, smoke leaving his mouth as he did so.
    Alex's lips slowly turned up into a smirk, his eyes drifting away from Greyson and to the blunt that was being passed to him. As he reached over to grab it, Greyson pulled it away from him in a playful manner; a smirk visible on his face as well.
    The two both laughed at their play-fighting, carrying on for only a few seconds more. It was until Alex suddenly stopped that Greyson did the same, except his smirk didn't leave his lips. Swiftly grabbing ahold of Greyson's wrist, he managed to pull the blunt from his fingers with his free hand and bring it to his lips for yet another hit.
    "So was that a yes?" Greyson smirked, running a hand through his dirty blond hair. However, Alex's icy blue eyes darted to Greyson with confusion; his brows furrowing.
    "Is your little emo self hormonal?" The blond questioned, the hallucinogens slowly but surely starting to kick in.
    A small chuckle left Alex before he fell back onto his bed. "I'm horny for food, specifically brownies," he answered. It wasn't long before another laugh left Alex; one laugh after the other.
Even if he was hungry, it was obvious Alex was both delirious and the marijuana was only adding to it. It would only be a matter of time before his stoned self fell into a needed deep slumber, something the dark circles under his eyes craved.
    Greyson couldn't dare to complain, his laughter was something Greyson suddenly needed after the day he suffered through. It was a genuine laugh and held such happiness, despite how drugged he was. Greyson had always been used to the fake laughter he received from females and his so called "friends", or rather a group of guys who used him in order to gain popularity. He didn't want to make assumptions, but it seemed like Alex was the opposite.
    Once the dark-haired male drifted into sleep, Greyson cautiously removed the blunt from between Alex's still fingers. His body looked beyond relaxed from Greyson's perspective, with one hand resting on his bare stomach and the other arm spread out beside him.
    With this time to himself, he took a few seconds to think of something to do. He wasn't nearly as high as Alex, making it difficult for him to fall back asleep. He could use this time to think of an escape plan, but that'd probably fail and he'd definitely die.
    Standing from the edge of Alex's bed, his emerald eyes began exploring the room he would be staying in. He looked at the three electric guitars that stood along one of the four walls; black, red, and navy blue. All three were covered in band stickers but somehow matched each color of the guitar in an aesthetic kind of way. They looked far too expensive to be messed with, even if all three also looked worn out.
    Out of instinct, Greyson reached his hand out and ran his fingers along the six strings. Each string was in tune, concluding that Alex kept up with the responsibilities of a guitarist.
    Is he good though?, Greyson wondered to himself. With his nosy self, he knew he would ask Alex the very next day if he was good--and to prove it.