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It was around 1:30 am when you got the first text.
timaeusTestified: Hey, are you awake?
yournamePesterchum: yeah, what’s up?
Then about 1:37 am when you got the next.
timaeusTestified: Can you come over?
yournamePesterchum: sure!
yournamePesterchum: any particular reason why, though?
And 1:41 am when you got the last.
timaeusTestified: Nothing to be worried about.
timaeusTestified: I’m just lonely and high as fuck right now.
timaeusTestified: Can you bring me some doritos?
He clearly wasn’t going to be responding any time soon, so you got out of bed and went downstairs. Opening the cabinets, you found a family size bag of cool ranch doritos and a 2 liter of some knockoff brand orange soda. Score! You grabbed some random shoes from nearby, and began your walk to Dirk’s dorm.
You and him met at a college party, where you found him sulking in the corner. Even through the buzz of shitty cheap alcohol and what was probably hard drugs, you don’t recall, you remember taking his hand and stumbling out the door with him. You took him to your dorm room and fed him a muffin you found in your fridge and some tap water, and told him how much you loved his hair and how spiky it was. You don’t remember that last part, but he swears on his life that you did. He has a better memory of that night than you do, so you suppose you believe him at least a little bit. He does have nice hair. And a nice face. You don’t have a crush on him at all.
Maybe you do, but that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is you’re standing in front of his dorm room door. So you knock. No answer. You knock again. There’s a vague shuffling, and the door cracks open barely, and you see Dirk standing with his eye looking through the doorway, though obscured by shades. You don’t understand why he wears them, even at such a late hour. You look back and forth, and slide in carefully so as to not let the smell or heat waft into the halls. You shut the door and locked it, before looking around his dorm room.
The place was a wreck in all meanings of the word. There was hardly any space on the floor that had not been taken over by dirty laundry or by empty takeout boxes or cans of soda, and the bed was a complete mess with the comforter halfway on the floor.
“Damn, bitch, you live like this?” You say, snarkily. Dirk sighed.
“You say that almost every time you come over. Just get over here.” Dirk walked over to the bed and climbed onto it, grabbing the bong that was on his nightstand. You slid off your shoes and joined him on the bed, moving the comforter out of the way and attempting lazily to fix it, only ending in the comforter sliding onto the floor of the room.
“Good job.” Dirk said flatly. You elbowed him, and sat the bag of doritos on the bed and the 2 liter of orange soda on the nightstand. He took the bag of chips and opened it, shoving a mouthful of doritos into his mouth.
“So, uh, Dirk…?” You spoke up to the nearly silent room, other than a faint buzzing of an AC system in the background.
“Yeah?”
“I want you to know that I’ve never… like… done this? Well, I have but not like this. So, uh…” You trailed off and Dirk gave the bong to you to hold.
“It’s pretty simple, really. I can hold the lighter to the bowl and you inhale twice, once to get the smoke into the chamber, which is this long tube right here, and the next to actually inhale the smoke. You don’t need to keep it in for long, so try to exhale pretty quickly. And don’t wrap your lips around the bong, make a suction with the outside of your lips,” he explained. “Got it?”
You looked nervously at the bong. You were almost positive you were going to fuck it up. Even with his fairly clear explanation, you felt as if you were missing something important.
“(Y/N), you good?” He snapped you out of your thoughts, and you turned your attention back to him.
“Is there another way?” You asked. He cocked his head to the side.
“Like, what do you mean another way?” He responded.
“Well, I’m almost certain I’m going to mess up, and I don’t want anything bad to happen. Is there… another, simpler way to do it?” You explained your question to him. He looked almost thoughtful for a second, took another bite of doritos, then responded.
“Have you ever heard of shotgunning?” Dirk asked.
“I can’t say I have.” You moved in closer to Dirk to hear his idea, and to hand him back his bong. “Humor me.”
“Well, you wouldn’t have to use the bong, that’s a start.” You nodded and gestured for him to continue.
“All you would have to do is be ready to inhale, and I’d do the work for you. Does that sound like a plan?” You thought for a second on his vague response. Would this be dangerous? Possibly, this is Dirk we’re talking about. But honestly? You trusted him. Not with your life exactly, the poor boy would mess it up, but you trusted him. You nodded.
“Sick. Just be ready.” You nodded and took a deep breath and exhaled, calming your nerves. Dirk took his lighter out of the pocket of his oversized grey sweatpants, lit it, and held the flame to the pot in the bowl for a moment before inhaling, and inhaling again. He quickly leaned in close to your face and blew you his smoke. You blushed and inhaled. You exhaled quickly, sat still for a moment, then realized exactly how close he had gotten to kissing you, and proceeded to freak out internally.
“So, how was that?” He asked.
“G-great!” You responded, looking down at the bed you were sitting criss cross applesauce on. He laughed and leaned back in closer to you.
“So, again?” He asked
“Sure…!” You replied, a little shakily. He repeated his process for a second time and leaned in, giving you his smoke. You were more emotionally prepared this time around, and inhaled immediately. You sat for a minute and realized he was still very close to your face.
“Uh, Dirk?” You spoke.
“I never noticed how beautiful your eyes were.” He reached his hand up and stroked your cheek with his thumb, and you could see his tangerine eyes behind his dorky anime shades. Your face was probably about as red as a solo cup at a frat boy’s party right now, and the fog that started to roll over your mind wasn’t helping.
“Dirk…” You whispered to him as he set the bong down besides him, not breaking eye contact, and pressed both of his hands onto your face gently. You two shared your breath for a moment before he leaned in and brought his lips onto yours. You were shocked at first, but you slowly melted into the kiss, bringing your hands onto his shoulders as if you were about to dance the foxtrot. You stay this way for a few moments before Dirk pulls away, but only barely, as his lips were still very close to yours. You could nearly smell the peppery smoke radiating off of him.
“Damn. You’re a good kisser, (Y/N).” Dirk brought his right hand up to stroke your hair. He had a smirk on his face.
“Dirk, where did that come from?” You asked. He pushed his glasses up and moved his hands onto yours, intertwining your fingers with your hands and taking them off of his shoulders, onto his lap.
“It came from the heart,” he answered. You laughed and spoke.
“I love you too, dork.” Dirk smiled, a real genuine smile, and kissed you again. You tilted your head into the kiss this time, savoring the feeling of his lips on your lips. You pulled away for a moment.
“Don’t forget about your bong, aka the whole reason I came over here,” you told him. You feel like he rolled his eyes underneath his shades.
“Sure. That’s the whole reason you came over here, yeah.” You punched him playfully and he pouted his lip and held his arm, releasing your grip on his hands. “I’ll get another hit ready for you.” He got his lighter again and held it to the pot for a moment, inhaled, and inhaled the smoke that collected in the chamber. He leaned in and gave the smoke to you, parting his lips. You inhaled the hit and sat back.
“Damn dude, what’s in this stuff?” You asked him.
“Weed,” he replied. “It’s got a pretty high THC content though so it would make sense if you’re feeling a buzz from just a few hits. Either way, that’s a good thing because I think that there’s not much left in the pot, almost just ashes now. I didn’t put a lot in, don’t worry,” he explained.
“Well that’s good to know. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” He laughed.
“(Y/N), you can’t overdose on weed.” He took his lighter to the pot. “Well, you can, but only kind of. Nothing you can die from, just some nasty anxiety and being really out of it. Nothing I don’t experience daily anyways.” He brought the chamber to his mouth and inhaled the smoke. You leaned in and took it as he exhaled the smoke to you.
“Dirk, I worry about you sometimes,” you said. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m just peachy, (Y/N). Nothing you need to worry about.” He set the bong on his nightstand along with his lighter. “Please don’t be worried about me. It’s not worth your time, I’m just a worrisome guy. Worrying can’t change that.” He sighed.
“Alright, Dirk… if you say so.”
You sat in silence for a moment until Dirk grabbed your hand and pulled you into his chest, giving you a chest thumping hug, which ended in you accidentally pinning Dirk down onto the bed sheets. You blushed and pushed up, staring down at Dirk. He brought his hand up to your chin and pressed his thumb to your bottom lip. He looked almost contemplative for a second, before he leaned up and kissed you. You immediately kissed back this time, melting into his touch as his hands moved down under your arms and onto your back. He pulled away for a moment.
“I think I’m in love with you,” he whispered.
“I think I’m in love with you too,” you replied. He smiled for a moment before he dove back into your lips, intensely kissing you like the world was about to end. Somewhere in the middle of this, he slipped his tongue past your lips and the two of you ended up making out very passionately (sloppily) on his bed, pushing and moving against each other like hormonal teenagers at the prom afterparty. Except this actually meant something. At least, you think it did. Dirk wouldn’t do this to someone he just met. He especially wouldn’t do… that.
“Dude, watch your hands,” You told him.
“Fuck, sorry.” You laughed and leaned back into him.
“I’m too tired right now,” you said to him. “I’d rather just sit here and have sloppy makeouts.”
“We could also stare at the ceiling and contemplate life,” he suggested. “But sloppy makeouts sound nice right about now, too.”
“Cool.” You leaned back into him and slid your tongue across his bottom lip. The two of you made out for a while, kissing and biting at each other’s lips and necks. Staring into each others eyes (or shades). You could do this for centuries, but you two were both tired as fuck. You pulled back from him and looked at his alarm clock. 3:03 AM.
“Dirk, it’s super late,” you whispered in slight surprise. You rolled off of him and onto the other side of his bed.
“Oh. It sure is.” The two of you sat in silence for a bit.
“Mind if I stay the night?” You asked Dirk.
“Why would I? We’re dating now, it’s not weird if we share a bed.” He looked at you for a second. “We are dating, right?” You nodded and gave him a peck on the nose.
“Of course we are, silly. I wouldn’t want anything else.” You pulled the blanket over you, and reached over and placed the forgotten bag of Doritos onto his nightstand, which was now cluttered with miscellaneous items.
“I love you, Dirk.” You turned off his lamp, and snuggled into his chest.
“I love you too, (Y/N).” He kissed your forehead and draped his arm over your body. He removed his shades and set them on the bedside table. You looked up at him and smiled, before drifting into a soft and deep sleep.
You would be coming over more often.