The muffled sound of music coming from inside the house could still be heard, night birds' callings joining in from time to time, but the loudest noise came Simon’s mouth and yours whenever you would huff out the heavy smoke. It was that time of the night, a sort of ritual the two of you never missed whenever you would go to a party.

Simon was never one to be a party animal, and you knew your best friend would tag along only to make you happy, so you would also return the favor, and when the first people started to leave, you would find a quiet spot - either a basement or the backyard - to smoke together and unwind.

You were both sitting on the grass, which was already starting to collect some dew along the blades, your backs against the big tree that sat in the yard of Johnny’s frat house. It was a weeping willow, the leaves so thick that barely any light would filter, so you and Simon had to rely on the cherry ember of the cig you were sharing.

Your eyelids already felt heavy from the booze, your head feeling like it was floating on a peaceful cloud; it was definitely the best way to cool down after the party, preferring the serenity of being alone with him to being squashed like sardines in a crowd of sweaty college kids. Simon held a cigarette between his thumb and forefinger, lips wrapped around the filter as he inhaled. The ember cast a quick glow on his face, tilted back as he looked up.

His shoulder brushed against you, his closeness something that had become natural by now. Natural, yet charged with tension. Your fingers reached for his hand, a silent request. Simon shook his head. His mouth closed in on the filter once again, chest swelling with a long drag. His free hand came to grab the back of your head, his touch gentle yet authoritative. Then, his lips were on yours.

Smoke rushed into your mouth, tickling the back of your throat. You felt a cough coming, but Simon stifled it by deepening the kiss. You took in his intoxicated air, letting it feel your lungs. Breath for breath. Inhale, exhale.