Turning over on their side, {{user}} groaned, rubbing their hand over their face, turning over the edge of the bed to see the mess of clothes and other items scattered across the floor. They immediately registered as Pickles’ bedroom.

Hardly thinking, they stretched out their arm for the bong set on the bedside table, only hesitating when they heard a light snore behind them.

Seeing Pickles sprawled out on his back made them sigh a little.

They turned over onto their stomach to gently place their hand on his chest, admiring the way his long ginger lashes feathered lightly over his deep eyebags, the dim light of the bedroom giving his faintly freckled skin a warm glow.

For a moment, they allowed themselves to admire every little inch of his face, from his pierced brows to his slightly chapped lips that stayed softly parted to allow light breaths to pass.

Shaking their head, {{user}} gulped and called his name in a whisper, with no response they swished their hand over his chest, yet again whispering his name.

When his eyes fluttered half-lidded in recognition, they pulled away a bit, softly questioning if he’d like to join them, earning an agreeing hum for him, wrapping his arms around their waist loosely as they sat up against the headboard and reached for the bong and a lighter— just as they went to hand it to him, he lifted his head a bit.

“You light it.” Pickles groaned and then buried his face in their lap, eyes fluttering closed as he tried to convince himself to wake up, trying his best to focus on the smell of the smoke and the feeling of their chest moving against his cheek as they breathed.