Work Text:
Brownies
From the moment Ian and Mickey walked into the front yard of the Milkovich house, they could smell it. The whole place reeked of weed. All they had to do was push open the front door to confirm it: Mandy and Svetlana were lying on the floor of the living room, pointing at the ceiling and laughing their asses off.
“What the hell are they on?” Ian whispered to Mickey from behind him. He inched further into the entryway, craning around Mickey to stare and Mandy and Svetlana in worry. “Weed’s not supposed to make people all giggly like this…”
Mickey walked unnoticed past the girls and went to the kitchen, where the evidence was clear: they had been making pot brownies.
“They probably got fucked up on the fumes while making the cannabutter. No wonder the smell’s so strong,” he explained. It would also explain why the brownie’s hadn’t been eaten yet; by the time the brownies were done baking, the high from the fumes had probably kicked in, leaving the girls a mess.
Mickey turned and gave Ian a wicked grin. “When was the last time you had special brownies?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in question.
Ian frowned. “I never have,” he admitted, looking slightly embarrassed.
“Are you serious?” he asked the redhead incredulously. He was surprised by that, considering all the other drugs Gallagher had tweeked out on in the past. “Okay, grab a piece,” he ordered, pointing at the brown dessert that sat cooling on the stovetop, looking so delicious in its pan.
“Eating THC fucks you up real good. It’s totally different, especially the body buzz you’ll get from it.” He flashed Ian another smile. “It takes a bit longer to kick in, but it lasts much longer than smoking. And,” he jerked his thumb in the direction of the living room, “it doesn’t look like they’ll give a shit,” he added.
Ian shrugged as he cut out a square from the pan. “How long does it take to kick in?” he wondered.
“‘Bout an hour, usually, but I can think of something we can do to pass the time,” he said suggestively, giving Gallagher a wink.