"yeah, that good, huh?" chris chuckles out, smoothing a hand over your back as you cough. he shakes his head, amusement written on his face as he leans further back into the couch, manspreading.

it was a typical thursday night, you have found yourself once again in the Sturniolo house in the late hours getting your fix of both chris and the prerolls he's carefully prepared for you.

you tell everyone that you go just for the good green, that it's nothing other than a business deal and you're out- but that's just what you tell everyone.

your friends don't know that the hours spent on his couch were far deeper than just a couple shared bowls and hanging out... and they definitely didn't know the reasons you quickly became his favorite client (as he calls them).

he thread his fingers through your locks as he watched you dive back for another hit, his lips quirking up into a smirk as he watches the subtle way your chest rises as you inhale the sweet smoke. he has to stop himself from biting his lip when he watches the way the smoke floats from your mouth, his knee slightly bumping yours as he restlessly readjusts his position on the couch.

"oh yeah, there you go. you feelin' it yet?" he asks, noticing the way your eyes had glossed over when you met his gaze to pass the preroll back to him. he didn't realize the way his question sounded, nor did he pick up on the way his voice was lower and more gravely the longer you passed the smoke back and forth. but you did.

watching chris wrap his lips around the preroll was a holy sight; the way his hair fell in his eyes, the way his hands look delicately holding it to his lips... god, your friends warned you about him, but they just wouldn't get it. how was anyone supposed to keep their damn chill with him looking like that?

he let the smoke pour from his mouth, his eyes locking with yours when he noticed your gaze, his eyebrow quirking.

"you good? you've gone all quiet on me," he murmured, leaning in his seat to ash the preroll.