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It’s kind of strange, seeing Yubel like this. Usually more towards the… “uptight” side of things, she didn’t let herself loose often, even around Judai. Johan knows it’s just how she operates since she’s often the self-diagnosed mom friend, designated driver, and tutor to anyone who had enough pocket change to buy her Starbucks. He can’t really blame her, either-- the semblance of a friend group Judai had all but dragged her into along with Johan was, for lack of better word, kind of a mess. An energetic, friendly mess, but a mess nonetheless.
So as she takes another drag off the joint held lazily between her fingers, Johan finds himself falling just a little bit more in love with her heterochromatic eyes, already a teensy bit bloodshot from the aforementioned drug. She seems to feel his gaze on her as he sinks farther into the couch they’re draped across, but instead of turning her own on his and making him feel sheepish as she often does she turns her face away slightly, hiding behind her cloud of impressively dyed hair for a self dye job. Her roots are growing in, just a bit, and black peeks out from the top of her head where it’s parted. He wonders if he should offer at some point to help her bleach it-- he already knows she’ll decline, but it’d be a nice gesture, wouldn’t it?
“Is there something on my face?” She mumbles, finally turning her eyes back towards his own, drooping the slightest bit from the smoke in the air. He notices dimly her teal lipstick now coats the end of the joint, but as she hands it to him wordlessly and puffs out an exhale he finds himself hoping in a weird vein that it’ll smudge onto his mouth and give the impression she’s kissed him. He takes a long drag, so much so that he nearly coughs once his throat finally pleads for him to give it a break, but he manages to hide it behind a deep breath of fresh air once he pulls the thing away from his lips. “No.” He whispers; his voice feels like it’s too loud right now to be above that volume. Yubel quirks an eyebrow at him, and reaches out to snap her fingers in front of his face. Johan blinks, unconsciously leaning his head back slightly. “What did I do?” He asks.
Yubel just watches him for a moment, bringing her face close to his like she’s examining his features or something of that nature. She scrutinizes him for a moment, making him feel a little self-conscious if he’s honest, but the serious expression soon melts into, surprisingly, a gentle smile, albeit a small one that’d be easy to miss if he weren’t somewhat inebriated. “You’re Johan.” She says triumphantly, as if that were something to be debated. He looks at her uncomprehending for a moment, before bringing his fist down on his palm with a quiet tap and getting starry-eyed. “You’re right!” He exclaims. Yubel cackles and leans back on the couch, clapping her hands and missing her right with her left at one point. “I knew it.” She says with a hint of a giggle still in her voice.
As Johan takes another puff, he feels like the couch is slowly pulling him deeper into the cushions when he leans back, a puddle of blue on the pleather. He debates tossing the joint (nearly three-fourths of the way finished) to Yubel rather than handing it to her, but then the crumb of logic he has left reminds him that’s a formula for burning down her and Judai’s apartment, so he solemnly holds it out for her to take, which she does with a shaky hand. She tries to blow a row of smoke rings, and Johan starts laughing once she gets to her third attempt that still ends in a usual exhale. “You have to, like…” He gestures vaguely for a solid ten seconds, like he’s actually trying to get his technique across. “You gotta… make your dick sucking face. Try that.”
Yubel nods sagely like that makes any sense at all, and after taking another drag she purses her lips with an open mouth while exhaling in short bursts. Most of them don’t turn out, but she does get a couple lopsided rings out, much to her delight. “I’m a fucking god at this, Johan.” She declares, after doing a few more. Johan stands abruptly, alarming her for a moment, only to bow deeply at her. “Ma’am yes ma’am!” He agrees, louder than he realizes. Yubel blows a raspberry at him, but she’s smiling like a goof when he raises his head again. She does something he doesn’t expect, then, too-- she scoots over slightly despite there being ample space already to her right, and pats the cushion directly next to her suggestively. Johan blinks at her for a second, then, completely missing her attempt at being suave while intoxicated, says dumbly, “Are you hungry? I’m hungry. Do you have anything to eat here?” He stumbles over to the kitchenette and throws the fridge door open with more force than necessary, and his eye immediately lands on a half empty glass of orange juice. Without even asking he grabs the glass tightly in his hand and guzzles it, with Yubel peeking over the back of the couch and watching him practically with hearts in her eyes. “That’s hot.” She remarks, wiggling her eyebrows at the other, who strikes an impromptu pose before accidentally slamming the cup down on the counter. At the loud noise, he looks down at the glass and pats the rim, murmuring for it to calm down as if placating a small animal. Yubel laughs at the spectacle like it’s the funniest thing she’s seen in her life, throwing her hand over her abdomen and guffawing.
“Heey.” Johan looks up, meeting the gaze of a Yubel that was most assuredly going to regret what she was about to say the next day when the devil’s lettuce wore off. She motions for him to come back over to the living area, and then out of the blue when he trips his way over pulls his face directly to hers. Only about an inch apart, Johan can feel her hot breaths on his cheeks, and he thinks absentmindedly that she can probably feel his, too. They just sort of stare at each other for a moment, daring the other to move, but soon enough Yubel gets bored of waiting and threads her hand through the hair on the back of his head and pulls him to her, locking their lips together messily. Their teeth clack together at first, but both of them are too intoxicated to care anymore, and jump right into the whole “making out” thing. Johan’s mouth feels like all its moisture has been sucked out of it by the joint itself, but Yubel’s tongue twisting with his own feels warm and slippery, surprisingly enough. She nibbles at his bottom lip and moves so her arms are wrapped around his neck while Johan places his hands (while exhibiting impressive restraint) chastely on her hips.
They break apart after a moment to take a second to remember to breathe, and as Johan runs his tongue over his lips they feel somewhat sticky. He only realizes that it’s probably the remnants of Yubel’s lipstick when he notices it’s been smudged pretty badly, and smiles goofily to himself at the warm and constricting feeling unfurling in his chest. Yubel tilts her head at him, questioning what he’s so happy about without using words, but before he can answer she lets out a yawn and stretches her arms above her head. “I’m sleepy.” She announces, slurring the word ‘sleepy’ slightly, and without thinking Johan opens his arms from where he’s sunk back onto the armrest of the couch, a position that’s likely going to have him wake up with a terrible pain in his neck and back, but oh well. She doesn’t need any other prompting than that to lean into his chest and inhale before shifting around to get comfortable, his pecs now her pillow. She thanks whatever gods above for Johan’s tits then and that he took off his binder before Judai had the bright idea of leaving them alone with a supply of marijuana. She snuggles closer to him when he wraps his arms loosely around her, and in literal seconds they’re out like lights. Yubel doesn’t usually dream much, but she sees herself tonight in the abyss of slumber, looking very different than she does now, still enclosed in the arms of Johan, albeit a Johan wearing rather unusual clothing. She doesn’t think too hard about it, just gives up her mind to the warm, comforting blackness and drifts off.
(In the morning when Judai returns, still yawning as he unlocks the door, he’s definitely simultaneously surprised and not at all to see the two tangled together and passed out on the couch with half the lights still on. He snaps a picture on his phone before remembering the shutter sound is still enabled, but neither of them stirs.)