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Smoking was always intimidating, you knew that for certain. You remembered the yearly seminars that schools would hold to prevent the spread of addiction, and those stupid adverts at the beginning of straight to DVD movies that lasted too long. It never really fased you, as intimidating as they seemed you knew it was simply a coping mechanism and a way to have fun.
And yet here you were, on the rooftop of Kong Studios, confused as to whether your legs were quivering because of the freezing cold breezing through your pantyhose or because of the open box of cigarettes perched on the cement railing.
2-D was standing beside you, leaning on the railing on his elbows with his legs bent and taking blows every few seconds from his own cig, peering at you from his outward glance at the city. Not that you'd know, his blood red irises were barely even visible.
"If you don' wan' one, you don' have to take one." He tells you in a reassuring tone, making you wonder just how he hasn't destroyed his talented voice with the copious amounts of boxes he could smoke through in one go, "First cigs are scary. I get 'dat."
You shake your head. You knew you wanted to take it. You wanted to smoke one. But the idea of accidentally burning yourself or damaging your lungs was overwhelming your mind.
"I- I want to smoke one. I just.." He hears you nervously trail off, and he throws his burnt out cigarette on the floor to stomp on it. The sound of his heel harshly clacking against the ground makes you flinch, but shit. That shouldn't have been attractive.
2-D immediately grabs another one from the box and lights it, inhaling from it and letting the smoke puff out his nose, "If you really wan' to, we could jus' shotgun it."
"Shotgun it?"
He nods, "Y'know, shotgunnin'. I breathe some in, we press our mouths together, an' I blow da' smoke into your mouth."
Oh.
“Yeah, kinda defeats da' whole purpose of smokin', but since you're such a baby-”
“Hey!”
He snickers, “It'd be easier though, wouldn' it?”
You think it over for a few seconds, -including the fact that it could entail a possible kiss from the singer- and come to the conclusion that yeah. It would be easier. And not only that, but the curiosity was killing you.
“...How many women have you done this with.”
2-D raises an eyebrow and laughs, smoothing a hand down his wily hair, “I'm not who I used ta' be, y'know? It's not like it's anyfin' dirty, just sharin' a smoke..”
You don't trust that for a second.
Either way, you shrug and move closer, watching closely -again- as he breathes in the smoke from his cig. He sees you watching intensely, and gives you that gap-toothed smirk you've gone crazy over for years.
“So.. Are ya' takin' me up on my offer?”
The smoke hits you in the face as he speaks and you glare up at him, then muttering a meek 'Yeah' with a huff, and sucking in a breath when he took the final blow. The one you'd end up taking. Well, half-taking.
He took a bit longer with this one, probably breathing in a bit more so it would be an even playing field for the two of you, before he took your chin in between his thumb and forefinger, and pressed your lips together.
You open your mouth and breathe in slightly as he pushes the rest of the smoke into your mouth, careful to not choke or cough in an attempt to not embarrass yourself in front of someone so -surprisingly- experienced. And as you inhale, you realize it wasn't as bad or as terrifying as you thought it would be. It was actually kind of.. nice. And warm.
You expected him to pull away once he had none left to breathe into you, but instead 2-D pressed himself closer to you and moved his lips against yours. Unable and not wanting to do anything else, you lean into him and allow his hand to slip down from your chin to the back of your neck, and groaned when he stroked his tongue against yours.
It truly was unfair how good he was at making you melt into his embrace, for someone who seemed so outwardly naive and almost idiotic, he truly was talented with every part of his body. With his lips and hands, most notable. The feeling of his fingertips tap, tap, tapping against your shoulderblade as he pushed the warm wet muscle further into your mouth felt like hot lava against your frigid skin.
Soon enough, you began to not be able to breathe, and reluctantly pushed against his chest as a sign that you needed to pull away. 2-D noticed a few seconds after as your lips stopped moving against his, and broke the kiss to meet your red and exhausted face.
"Shit," He breathed, "Are you okay? 'm sorry, I didn' know you couldn' breathe.." A hand reaches up and rubs the back of his neck as he guiltily stares down at you with an ashamed and embarrassed look on his face.
You shake your head and wheeze when some of the leftover smoke gets caught in your lungs, placing a hand on his shoulder to balance yourself as you cough out into the cold air, before you giggle and look back up at his poor worried expression.
"I'm -ugh- okay, just-" You cut yourself off with a cough and bang a fist against your chest in a weak attempt to knock the air out.
"Are you sure? I- I shouldn' 'ave pushed you t'take it, 'm so sorry love," 2-D pats your back to help you in your weakened state, the sudden contrast of his actions sending a weird shiver down your spine. He truly could be an angel when he wanted to be, just as much as he could be a devil.
Once you finally calm down enough to actually speak without choking on your own breath, you straighten yourself up and smile sheepishly at him as he does the same back to you.
"Feel better?"
You nod.
"Yeah.. And uh- honestly.. I think I'd like to do that again."
"Almost die of air loss?"
2-D snorts when you land a punch on his shoulder, and grabs your hand to kiss your palm in an act of teasing. You were oh , so fun to tease.
"Sure, I'd love to give myself breathing problems for the rest of my life like you and Murdoc."
"I mean," He starts, lighting your next shared cigarette, "I'm still standin' aren't I?"
He hands you the cigarette as a wordless way of telling you "your turn" and you carefully take it in your hand so you don't burn yourself. You stare at it intensely before you look up at him again.
".. How do you do this everyday?"
"I dunno', the weed usually helps."
What an asshole. Well, you weren't going to complain, especially when you knew this would end up in his bedroom.
Maybe you'd try some blunts next..