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Passing Smoke

Summary:

When Classic gets his hands on some of Stretch's weed, things do not go well. For their brothers anyway.

Notes:

This is a gift for @messedupessy because she’s a freaking great artist, and even though I don’t even ship these two, her art always gives me Stoner Bros feels.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“GREAT GOOGLY MOOGLY!” Papaya kicks down the Swap brother’s door, and a part of their wall with it, all while carrying his dozing brother in his arms, “BLUEBERRY!”

The small blue scarfed skeleton springs from his bedroom, with a medical kit in hand, just in case. Meanwhile, Stretch curiously perked up from the couch, watching.

“WHAT IS IT? IS THERE A HUMAN?!” Blue looks around frantically.

“NO!” Papaya shook his head, though his eyes stood wide with concern, “SANS IS HIGH”

The older skeleton squirms in his brother’s arms, giggling and laughing at his brother’s commnet, “no, bro, it’s hi sans,”

Over on the couch, Stretch laughs, snorting at the joke, which sent Classic into a fit of laughter. Papaya hopelessly glanced over to Blue for help, who only shrugged. Sure, Stretch gets high all the time, but Blue doesn’t do much other than leave him a glass of water and an aspirin. He’s gotten use to it by now, but this is probably Papaya’s first time seeing his brother like this.

“Give him here, I’ll take him off your hands,” Stretch pushed himself off the couch, making a show of how difficult it was and reached out for Classic.

Like a mother protecting her baby, Papaya turned away, pressing his brother against his chest. His expression turns doubtful, but Blueberry reassured him that it’ll be alright. Classic needs rest and Papaya can stay for dinner until his brother sobered up. Stretch gave the other skeleton a handsome smirk, and Papaya reluctantly handed Classic over.

“psssshhhh don’t worry about it bro,” Classic goes limp in Stretch’s arms, “orange has a pretty good handle on me,”

“Heh, yeah, I’ll make sure he doesn’t get too bonely,” Stretch winks.

The two youngest loudly groans and dismisses them. Stretch carries Classic upstairs into his bedroom and gently tosses him the bed. The small skeleton lands with a soft oof, then sits up, rubbing his skull. Stretch’s bedroom is exactly like his, albeit flipped with the old mattress laid on the left corner, socks thrown everywhere and the trash tornado on the right. Classic traces the sticky walls with his fingers as colors dances across his vision. It’s like he’s home…but he’s not….weird. Stretch tosses a box of old pizza on the ground and ramages through his drawers, throwing away clothes.

“what are you doing?” Classic asks, the flying clothes catching his interest.

“Just gimme one sec…” Stretch’s eyes light up and he pulls a long bong from the drawer, “Found it!”

He grabs the lighter, pours an old bottle of water in, and lights it up. Classic twitches at the grassy scent, but Stretch inhales it expertly, exhaling the billows of smoke while leaning against the wall. Euphoria spreads through his soul, relaxing his bones.

“aren’t you supposed to be taking care of me?” Classic raised his brow.

“Eh. You know how much of a lazy bones I am,” Stretch takes another hit, then offering it to Classic.

The small skeleton shrugs. He’s already high, so whatever. Classic repeats Stretch’s steps, then hacks loudly as the drug burns his “throat”. The tall monster laughs at his inexpertise, hitting Classic’s back to help with the coughing. He gives a thumbs up to let him know that he was okay, but already, his mind muddles with clear haze. 

“How did you get your hands on weed anyway?” Stretch asks curiously.

“stole it from you,”

“Didn’t know you were interested,” the orange hooded skeleton takes another hit and blows it directly into Classic’s face.

He coughs, fanning away the smoke, “i hate that thing. i used a blunt.”

“I know what might help,” Stretch inhales the smoke again, but instead of exhaling it, he presses his mouth against Classic’s, forcing him to part his teeth, and blowing the smoke inside.

Classic squirms in surprise, but settles down as he eases into the kiss, the white smoke filling his lungs. He accepts it, relaxing rather than letting his body reject it. Stretch pulls away and Classic bursts out laughing, tears swelling in his eyes and ever present smile stretching even further.

“bro,”

“Bro,”

“bro,”

“Bro,”

“bro,” Classic giggles, “we are so fucking high right now.”

Stretch laughs along with him, “Yeah. Wanna do it again?”

It’s too late, Classic already grabbed the bong then takes the biggest hit he could muster and latches himself onto Stretch’s mouth. The taller skeleton wraps his arms around him, locking him in place, then forming an ecto-tongue. Classic forms one too, and together, they both pass the smoke in between each other’s mouths. Once it finally dissipates, Stretch glaces at the bong. They’re gonna need more weed.