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Tommy had promised Wilbur he wouldn’t stay long at the pre-drinks at Ranboo’s, but now he finds himself sprawled across Ranboo’s bed.
His head feels swimmy and warm like his brain has turned into sticky syrup. He’d move his legs to give Freddie more room, but his limbs feel fifty pounds each.
Bill had been the one to bring the pot, sealing the joint with his tongue in a way that had Ranboo’s eyes dilating. Aimsey had forcefully nudged Ranboo’s knee with their foot and Bill had just snorted.
Tommy blinks through the haze that seems to fill the room although he’s sure it’s just him. He thinks he can hear Freddie telling Eryn to take a photo of them, but Tommy only just catches the camera with a glance before it goes off.
“Freddie, mate, we all look high as shit,” Tommy mutters when he smacks at Eryn’s leg to get the phone off him.
“I don’t,” Freddie chirps as he leans back down onto his arm. He’s got a half-crushed plastic cup filled with some sun-warmed liquor in his other hand and he sips at it. Tommy pulls a face.
“Cause you don’t smoke,” Aimsey sticks their tongue out at Freddie and Freddie returns the gesture.
Freddie shakes the cup in his hand, “This is my poison of choice.”
“Weed’s s’not poison,” Bill murmurs from the cocoon of his boyfriend’s arms. Ranboo slips his hand down to Bill’s waist to hold onto him better and Tommy sighs loudly.
“Can you stop necking on when we’re all here?” Tommy exclaims as he tries and fails to pull his legs into more of a sitting position.
“I’m just holding him, actually,” Ranboo’s voice emerges from the tangle that is his body around Bill.
“Fuck you, Ranboob,” Tommy snaps back and continues to struggle to sit up.
Aimsey’s sitting cross-legged and twirling one of their rings around their fingers, “Need help, Tom?”
“No, I’m a big man,” Tommy pouts as he finally wrenches the pillow under his upper half to prop him up. Aimsey pats his knee consolingly.
Eryn’s gotten back onto the bed and pretzels his body around Freddie’s back so he’s facing Tommy.
“Why’s everyone got someone to cuddle besides me?” Tommy protests as Eryn leans up to press a kiss on Freddie’s shoulder.
Aimsey looks mock-offended, “I’ve got no one. You could ask me!”
Tommy blinks at the request like it never crossed his mind. To him, Aimsey is this untouchable, too-cool person. The idea of curling around them even platonically gives him a weird crawly feeling on his skin.
“He just wants his Wilby,” Freddie cracks as Tommy’s eyes snap open almost comically wide. He needs another fucking hit if his so-called best mates are gonna take the piss out of him.
“Oi, Bill, where’s the spliff?” Tommy wedges his foot into Bill’s side, earning a displeased grunt.
Ranboo untangles himself from Bill enough for Tommy to see his eyes and reaches over to the ashtray.
“Here’s the spliff,” Ranboo replies with the last word in a mocking British accent. Tommy snatches the mostly-smoked joint and Bill’s lighter that has R + B crudely scratched into the case from his hand.
He unsuccessfully tries to spark the lighter a few times and the joint dangles loosely from his fingers. Tommy knows if he’s not careful, he’ll accidentally set the bed on fire or something.
Finally, he flicks the lighter and the flame blazes to life. He lowers the joint into it until it’s producing a hazy smoke. He takes a hit, inhaling the smoke. He holds it in his lungs like Bill taught him to, and he doesn’t even cough this time.
The rush of endorphins and the sticky sweetness that fill his veins are enough to make him want to do this every night.
Aimsey smokes the last of the joint as they’re clearly way too sober to be dealing with the rest of the guys. Tommy thinks they look pretty like this, the smoke swirling into a halo around their head.
Tommy’s slowly slipping back into his relaxed bliss when an incoming FaceTime call interrupts his haze.
Tommy blinks slowly and dumbly against the onslaught of light coming from his phone and just barely presses the accept button before the call drops.
Wilbur’s smirking face fills the screen and Tommy feels the hazy warmth give way to something sharper and more familiar. Fuck everyone else; he’s got Wilbur.
“Will!” Tommy chirps as he angles the phone away from the prying eyes of the rest of his friends. Eryn tries to peer over Tommy’s arm and Tommy shoves him away back into Freddie.
“Toms,” Wilbur acknowledges, tongue swiping against his bottom lip. Tommy isn’t quite sure if Wilbur’s upset or fine or what. Everything’s still a bit muddled, but he does think that there is a note of amusement in Wilbur’s tone.
“Did someone forget we had plans tonight or should I be expecting you?” Wilbur continues and Tommy shoots up. The weight of the high presses him back down on the pillow, but he still feels the jolt of adrenaline at forgetting something.
“Fuck, Wil! I was just supposed to have a drink or two and then come over, wasn’t I…” Tommy trails off miserably while Aimsey suppresses their giggles. Their rings glint in the fading light of the day and Tommy finds himself momentarily distracted.
“Bill brought the weed,” Tommy defends himself with a pout like it absolves him of his participation in the group high.
“You talkin’ ‘bout me?” Bill pokes his head out from Ranboo’s embrace and glances at Wilbur’s unfailingly amused expression.
“Yeah, dickhead, you got me high and made me miss my date with my boyfriend!” Tommy cries. The rest of the group just finds that prospect hilarious and the combined force of their laughter drowns out the next thing Wilbur says.
“You’re just mad that you’re not getting shagged tonight,” Bill snorts and dodges Tommy’s surprisingly well-aimed kick at his side.
“I fucking hate all of you,” Tommy declares while he goes back to staring at the very pretty eyes of his boyfriend.
Has he talked about how pretty Wilbur is yet? He’s tall and smart and handsome and smells nice and…
“Earth to Tommy,” Freddie flicks his forehead and Tommy jolts back to the present.
“Welcome back, space cadet,” Wilbur teases, the warmth of his tone still evident over the shitty FaceTime connection.
“Shuddup, I’m sleepy,” Tommy yawns and he sinks further into the pillow behind him. He doesn’t think anyone would mind if he just dozed off a little bit, right?
He’s out like a light before he even gets the chance to say goodbye to Wilbur. The phone clunks onto his chest and Aimsey snags it.
They turn the camera towards Tommy’s sleeping form and they see how Wilbur’s eyes crinkle up just the slightest at the sight.
“Don’t let him fuck up his sleep schedule too much, okay?” Wilbur whispers and Aimsey rolls their eyes.
“Aye, aye, captain,” Aimsey responds with a mock salute and they turn the phone for everyone except Tommy to wave goodbye.
Plus, they have to say a cuddle pile does sound quite appealing right now.
–
Tommy wakes up hours later with Aimsey tucked into his chest and Ranboo half falling off his own bed. Freddie and Eryn have taken to the floor to spoon and Bill’s rolled over into pressing his face into his neck.
Tommy scrunches his nose at Bill’s huffing breaths and turns him back over to his boyfriend. He looks back down cautiously to Aimsey and settles his arm more comfortably around their middle.
He supposes missing date night wasn’t so bad after all.