Work Text:
Shaggy was the weirdest tenant in Fred’s apartment complex. Despite literally never leaving his apartment, Shaggy has never missed a day of rent. He happily pays extra to house his ginormous Great Dane (named “Scooby”??), doesn’t make too much noise, and is diligent about ensuring the monstrous amount of weed he smokes never leaves an odor.
So. Not a bad tenant, but definitely different.
It didn’t hurt that every time Fred looked at him, he completely lost his shit and became a stuttering mess. ‘Cause Shaggy – despite being a lanky, lazy, food obsessed weirdo, was hot, and funny, and had a really, really sweet dog.
(Fred’s come to terms with falling in love with him a while ago. It wasn’t hard.)
Compared to Daphne who blasted her music through the apartment walls, he’s practically a saint. Especially since he never complained despite being her neighbour.
Velma, however, on the other side of the hall, calls Fred soon as midnight struck to ask him to tell Daphne to shut up. Which meant he was about to spend fifteen minutes listening to Daphne moan about how bad she just wants Velma to come over and hang out with her.
Which was the only reason Fred hadn’t really let himself think about either of them like that. If they got together, he refused to steal either of their girls. He ignored all three of his tenants attempts to hang out, though, cause he had already realized he was into all of them and they could never know.
So, in an attempt to go to sleep early tonight, Fred went over to Daphne’s without a prior call, and knocked on the door to solve the problem proactively. You know, like a good landlord would.
“Freddy!” Shaggy’s voice, instead of Daphne’s, cried as he opened the door.
Fred frowned. “Am I at the wrong apartment?” He asked, staring at Shaggy (and smelling an astronomical amount of weed, which, sure Daphne smokes, but not like Shaggy.)
Shaggy smiled his same goofy smile, and laughed his silly little laugh (loudly, obnoxious, but so…cute?) but didn’t respond because at the next second Scooby dame skirting around the corner and knocked Fred onto his ass.
“Hey Scooby!” No matter how many times this giant dog knocks him over and uses his stupidly large tongue to give Fred’s previously perfectly styled hair a cow lick, Scoob is so incredibly lovable it’s ridiculous.
“Aw, he missed you. C’mon in, Freddy, join the party.” Scoob continued to lick Fred as he tried to push the Dane off of him, and continued to crowd him when he stood up.
“Man, I actually came by to ask you to quiet down,” Fred said, rubbing a hand behind his neck. Daphne, who had clearly been eavesdropping, screeched in indignation and came up behind Shaggy at the door.
She furrowed in on Fred. “I finally got Velma to come in tonight, and Shaggy finally brought over his weed and his sick-ass dog, you are not shutting us down, Fredrick Jones.”
Velma, hearing the commotion, also came around the corner and smiled over at Fred. She’s not wearing her glasses, or her sweater, clearly having been smoking. She walked up to Daphne (Standing scarily close) and pouted at Fred. “Yeah c’mon Freddy, join us.”
Fred looked at all of them slowly, processing carefully what was going on. He finally noticed the distinct lack of clothes, the sultry music pumping through the speakers (and, honestly barley bleeding through the walls) and three incredibly hot people (and an affectionate – not in that way, nasties – dog) begging him to stay.
He sighed. “Alright gang! I’d be happy to.”
There was a soft cheer and Scooby, in a wiseness beyond a dogs years, grabbed his shirt by his teeth and yanked Fred in, directly into Shaggy’s chest. Shaggy laughed and slung an arm around Fred’s shoulder and pulled him into the apartment with him.
This was how Fred found himself sitting on a lilac-coloured couch, a Great Dane lying across his lap, forcing him and Shaggy in a close proximity again, as a beautiful redhead would reach over him to pass a blunt to Shaggy.
Shaggy took a large hit, making little shapes with the smoke as he breathed out, somehow making the image of a dog (in similar form to Scooby) jumping through hoops. Scooby noticed, and howled appreciatively.
“Zoinks, Fred, you want some?” Shaggy said as Fred leaned more and more into him, mesmerised by the smoke and the smell. Is it possible to get second-hand high? Cause if so, that’s definitely what Fred is going through.
Before he could respond, he watched as Daphne and Velma kissed each other, passing the weed between their tongues, and once again, Fred wondered what that would be like – not just with one of the girls (which absolutely crossed his mind) but with Shaggy too.
Shaggy oblivious, went back to his blunt, and Fred swooped in to plant a big one soon as his lips were free. Shaggy froze for a second, but then in his typical go-with-the-flow fashion, he slowly pumped some into Fred’s mouth. Fred coughed half of it back up, cause Velma to frettingly reach up to him and pat his back from her new-found spot on Daphne’s lap, with a dramatic cry of “jinkies!”
Daphne giggled. “C’mon Shaggy, you gave him too much for his first time,” She said, “lemme try.” And so she took a hit, and kissed Fred as well. This time, less smoke entered his lungs, and Fred felt considerably less of the panic that came from his first time. Before he could let it out, Velma reached over and sucked the smoke out of Fred’s mouth and into her own.
“Jinkies,” she said, this time softly and considerably pleased.
The gang all got closer to one another, practically sitting on each other’s lap, trading affectionate touches, sharing blunts, and getting really fucking high.
At one point, Fred found himself staring at the ceiling, “I think I’m in love with you guys,” he said, and Daphne said right back, “Why do you think I’ve been trying to get you all into my apartment? I’m totally in love with you too.”
Shaggy sniffled, and bowed his head into his dog, “I’ve never had friends before, other than Scoob,” and Velma reached over, lay her head on his shoulder, and said; “I wanna be more than friends with you, Shag,”
All of which could easily be chalked up to a bunch of young adults smoking together for the first time, if they didn’t all wake up in that same spot on Daphne’s beautiful, large, and comfortable couch. If Fred didn’t immediately make breakfast (unflinching in the face of any after-effects of his first time smoking – making the rest of them believe it wasn’t his first time), and they spent the rest of the day talking around the table.
If they didn’t spend the weekend out by Fred’s really ugly minivan painting it green and blue with a bunch of flowers around it, and if Scooby didn’t stop jumping on each member of the gang every time he saw them, regardless of the amount of time passed.
If they all slowly accumulated into one apartment and there were no more complaints about loud music, and instead spent their time together, all weirdly, madly in love despite barley knowing each other before that night they all got high.