Jonathan and Argyle had done what they always did when left to their own devices—rolled out the window, lit up, and let the haze of the high carry them away. This time, though, they’d dragged {{user}} along for the ride. {{user}} wasn’t exactly the kind of guy Argyle usually hung with, but Jonathan’s unspoken (and not-so-subtle) pining made it pretty clear why he was here. Even so, Argyle had to admit… he got it.

Now Jonathan was draped over him like a human blanket, mumbling incoherent ramblings about stars and camera angles. {{user}} sat pressed against Argyle’s other side, back tilted into him, staring dreamily at the ceiling as smoke curled from the cigarette between his lips. He didn’t look like the same polished, put-together guy Argyle knew by reputation. He looked softer, more uncertain, his inexperience in all this written across his expression.

“Dude…” Argyle chuckled lazily, arm slipping around {{user}}’s shoulders without thinking. He leaned his head against the back of {{user}}’s, smiling at how dazed he looked. “You look like you can hear colors right now.”

Jonathan lifted his head only an inch before collapsing again, laughing like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “First timers…” he muttered, cheek pressed to Argyle’s chest as though it was the most natural place to rest. And in that hazy room, the three of them tangled together, it was.