Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chosen’s morning was already off to a rough start. He couldn’t sleep the night before and the exhaustion seems to be throwing everything off course.

He couldn’t even put on his stupid cargo shorts without losing his balance and nearly face planting into the concrete flooring. His once lightning fast reflexes were muddied down to standard reflex times.

“Pathetic,” he said to his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

His day was made incomprehensibly worse when he walked into GameStop to see Augustus St. Cloud behind the counter. All the disruptions to his morning made Chosen completely forget that he was working with them today.

“Good morning nemesis/friend/anime rival, how are you this morning,” Augustus says, attempting to break the ice.

Chosen ignores him and walks straight to the backroom, dropping off a few of his personal items that he doesn’t want to keep on him throughout his shift.

“Hey king, lookin’ good today.”

Chosen rolls his eyes, “Good morning John,” he turns to face them, “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I would say you were smoking back here.”

John smiles and tips his hat towards Chosen, “You are always welcome to join me, pretty boy.”

Chosen fumbles with his items and feels a small amount of heat rise to his cheeks hearing the nickname, immensely grateful for the shitty lighting in the backroom.

He turns on his heel and marches back out to the front counter where Augustus is exasperatedly answering a phone call.

“No, our physical locations haven’t all closed…just a lot of them,” he pauses to listen to the caller, “Oh yeah, we’ve got PS5 in stock, what are your other two wishes, guy-who-rubbed-my-lamp?”

Chosen snorts at the comeback as Augustus slams the phone to hang up, moving quickly to cover it with a cough. Unfortunately, he wasn’t successful.

“Dude! I just made you laugh!” Augustus says, giddily.

“Shut up, loser,” Chosen says, weakly.

“What’s-” Augustus is interrupted by John joining them behind the counter.

“King, Augustus.”

“You’re not even working today, why are you here John,” Augustus says, rolling his eyes.

“I’ve come bearing gifts, mostly for Chosen, but you can join us too, if you want.”

Both boys look at John quizzically.

"Weed, you nerds, I brought weed.”

“You know I prefer to stay completely in control of my faculties, John, it is unsafe for me to be impaired,” Chosen begins to reason.

“No offense, king, but the way you’ve been fumbling around today makes me think you’re already impaired.”

Chosen scowls at John, “Fine. Lunch break.”

Augustus is surprised to hear Chosen submit to John’s will, something really must be going on today.

As John leaves, Augustus voices these thoughts with genuine concern, “Is everything okay today?”

Chosen slightly flinches at the gentleness of the question. “I’m fine, I just…had a rough morning. Nothing I couldn’t, and haven’t, handled.

As much as Augustus loves to annoy Chosen, they know by now when to stop prying. He decides to let silence guide them through the day until their lunch break comes around.

Sure enough, John comes strolling back in at 12:45 sharp. Augustus sneaks a glance at Chosen before they make their way to the backroom.

Neither of them have smoked weed before, at least not to Augustus’ knowledge. This will definitely be an interesting experience, he thinks.

John pulls out two pre-rolls, ‘That feels like a lot for just the three of us’, Augustus thinks.

“Don’t inhale too much, it’s gonna take a few times to get used to,” Chosen says to Augustus as John hands one of the blunts to them.

Augustus looks at Chosen, confused. Has he done this before?

They try to take Chosen’s advice, they really do, but as soon as the smoke hits his throat he breaks into a violent coughing fit.

Chosen scoffs, “I told you not to inhale too much, idiot, you never listen to me.”

Before Augustus can respond, John makes eye contact with Chosen and says, “Why don’t you show them the easiest way to get started? You know, the way I showed you?”

Chosen can feel heat rising to his cheeks, again.

Augustus has finally recovered from his coughing fit enough to ask, “What? You’ve already- what do you mean ‘easiest way,’ why didn’t we start with that?!”

By now, Chosen is pretty sure his whole face is bright red. “It’s, um, I have to- I’d have to get really…close. To you. Your face.”

Augustus looks to John, their confusion visible.

“Are you okay with Chosen getting up close and personal? Or do you need us to demonstrate before you decide?”

Chosen looks down at his own hands, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“Um. I guess. I guess could you two demonstrate?” Augustus says hesitantly, still unsure of what to expect.

John takes a fairly big hit as they get up from the chair to crouch down next to Chosen. Augustus watches, almost as if in slow motion, as John leans in mere centimeters away from Chosen’s mouth.

They see the tips of Chosen’s ears go pink as he opens his mouth to breathe in the secondhand smoke.

Augustus can feel his own face heating up at the thought of Chosen doing this with them. They’re so lost in thought that it takes a few moments to register that John is talking to them.

“-stus? Helloooo, earth to Auggie, are you still with us?”

He startles himself back to reality, “Uh, yeah, sorry, I think the weed has just already hit me a bit.” A lie. One John, at the very least, can most likely see right through.

John gives him a teasing, knowing, smile. “So, do you want Chosen to help you with a few hits, just like that?”

Augustus steals another glance at Chosen, who’s gone back to staring at his own hands.

Chosen can feel their eyes on him, “It’s whatever man, only if you like, feel like you need it or whatever.”

Augustus silently curses his curious mind before agreeing.

John hands the lit blunt to Chosen, with an encouraging pat on the shoulder, before moving back to his seat.

Augustus waits for what feels like hours, but is probably only seconds, before Chosen finally lifts the blunt to his lips and inhales.

As Chosen gets closer and closer, Augustus can’t help but wonder what the hell he was thinking when they agreed to this. They’ve known about their feelings for Chosen for a few weeks now and this was definitely not going to help anything.

Johns looks on as Chosen gets impossibly more red as the boy closes the distance between himself and Augustus.

Their lips barely brush as Chosen exhales into Augustus’ mouth, sending a shiver down both of their spines.

Chosen pulls away and they both go into a state of semi-shock. Augustus’ eyes are glazed over, and it’s not from the weed.

John clears his throat and they both snap their heads to look at him, “Better?”

Chosen glares at John, as they clearly knew exactly what they were doing, but quickly abandons his glare in favor of looking towards Augustus, checking if they’re okay.

“Um, yeah. That was…better. To inhale,” Augustus squeaks, his face bright red.

They spend the spend lunch break chatting and letting the heavy weight of the high wash over them. If they were late getting back on the floor, well, there were no witnesses but themselves.

Chapter Text

[Pre-Chapter 1 Recap]

Chosen came into work like any other day, expecting Augustus to be behind the counter, as today was one of their shared shifts. Instead, he walks in to find John behind the counter.

“Morning, king.” John said, tipping his fedora towards Chosen.

“John,” Chosen says with a curt nod before continuing, “Where’s Augustus? They’re supposed to work today, not that I’m complaining about their absence.”

John shrugs, “They asked if I could cover their shift today, didn’t give me a reason and I didn’t think to ask.”

Chosen silently nods in acknowledgement, before making his way to the backroom to prepare for his shift.

The first few hours of their shift pass quickly, Chosen and John occasionally picking up a leisurely conversation, until their lunch break rolled around.

John began walking towards the backroom, hesitating for a moment before turning around to look at Chosen, “Would you like to join me for lunch? I have a pre-roll that we can share.”

Chosen lifts his head from whatever game he was playing on his DS and tilts his head to the side, confused, “A pre-roll? I don’t know what that is.”

John smiles, a bit mischievously. “Okay, that means you have to join me, king. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

Chosen hesitates for a moment, but eventually agrees to follow John, repeatedly reminding them that he hasn’t actually agreed to anything yet.

They sit in the backroom and John pulls out the pre-roll, “It’s just weed,” John says, placing it between his lips and lighting it, “do you want a hit?”

Chosen watches as John inhales the smoke, holding it in his lungs for a moment, before breathing it back out.

“I’m… not sure. I’ve never smoked weed before.”

John nods, “You don’t have to. The offer is always open if you want to though.”

For a moment it seems like Chosen has zoned out, having a battle within his own brain over what choice to make here.

“I think… I think I want to try it.”

A small smile finds its way to John’s lips, and Chosen’s eyes can’t help but catch on it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’s pleased that his words caused that smile.

Chosen breaks his eyes away from John’s mouth to meet their eyes, a look of intrigue dancing around them before he reaches out the hand holding the joint.

“Don’t inhale too much, it can be pretty aggressive when you’re first starting out.”

Their fingers brush as Chosen reaches out to grab the joint from John. He brings it up to lips and tries to mimic John, clearly not heeding their previous warning. Chosen quickly passes the joint back to John before an aggressive coughing fit wreaks through his body.

John rolls his eyes before grabbing his water bottle and handing it to Chosen, “Water helps, c’mon pretty boy, drink some water.”

John rubs Chosen’s back while he recovers from his coughing fit, before suggesting a different way to smoke that won’t be so harsh on Chosen’s lungs.

“We could—and please feel free to say no if you’re not comfortable—we could shotgun it, that way it’s a little softer when it hits your lungs.”

Chosen looks over at John, he’s avoiding eye contact and has a light pink tinge staining his cheeks.

“Shotgun? What’s that?”

John’s cheeks flush a little more pink, “Basically, I would inhale it first and then blow it into your mouth. You have to get pretty close, so if you’re not comfortable…” John trails off.

“That sounds okay to me,” Chosen responds, surprisingly quickly.

“Oh, um, okay.” John says, scooting closer to Chosen and turning to face him better. They watch as Chosen mimics John’s actions, turning to face them better as well.

John brings the joint back up to his lips, noticing how Chosen’s eyes seem to have locked onto their mouth. A small grin forming on his lips as he inhales, pulling the joint away from his mouth and leaning closer to Chosen.

Chosen is frozen in place, unsure of what to do as John leans into his space, until he feels John’s free hand cup his jaw. The light touch was all Chosen needed to remember to open his mouth.

They leaned in to close more of the gap and Chosen felt John’s lips brush ever so lightly against his own as they exhaled into his mouth.

This time, Chosen took the hit like a champ, with no coughing fit to follow. As John pulled away, Chosen noticed that light pink tinge on their cheeks again.

John cleared his throat, “Better?”

Chosen nods dumbly, still a little dazed from the brush of their lips against his own and the feeling of the weed working its way into his bloodstream. He barely manages to squeak out an audible answer, “Yeah, better.”

—

It’s been a week and a half and Chosen and Augustus still haven’t spoken about the shotgunning incident. It was absolutely insufferable to work in between them, so John took things into his own hands (again).

“Do you guys want to come to mine after work? We can get high and watch movies or something?”

Chosen looks at Augustus, pausing for a moment to think, and then decides, “Sure, why not.”

Augustus quickly agrees, slightly cringing at his eagerness to join after Chosen said yes.

“Cool, feel free to bring stuff to sleep over if you think you might not be comfortable driving home later,” John adds, and the plans have been set.

Augustus drives Chosen home after their shift so he can grab a few items before they head to John’s apartment.

“No, no– you definitely want to bring your blanket hoodie thingy and your little Kirby guy.”

“Wha–” Chosen’s face flushes at the mention of his comfort items. He doesn’t usually let people get close enough to be able to recognize them. He realizes belatedly that he has subconsciously lowered his guard, just barely, around Augustus and John recently.

‘Of course Augustus noticed, he’s your arch-nemesis,’ he mentally scolds himself.

As Augustus pulls into the driveway, Chosen gets out to quickly pack a night bag for the inevitable sleepover at John’s. He grabs a mostly empty backpack—stuffing pajamas, a change of clothes, and his Oodie into it—before pulling his DS out of his pocket and placing it in the bag as well. He glances around his room for anything else he might want to bring with him, eyes landing on his Kirby plush. He considers for a moment whether or not he should bring it, especially after Augustus mentioned it, but ultimately tosses it in the bag as well.

Chosen quickly makes his way back to Augustus' car, rattling off John’s address as he settles back into the passenger seat.

The drive to John’s apartment is fairly short, music quietly filling the silence in the car. Chosen and Augustus are both visibly a little nervous, both overthinking the events that occurred the last time they both smoked with John in the backroom of the Gamestop. When Augustus pulls into the parking lot, Chosen sends a short ‘we’re here’ text to John, grabbing his bag and quickly exiting the car.

John opens his apartment door with a lazy smile, clearly already a joint or two in.

“Alright kings, this is where the magic happens. Make yourself at home,” John announces, stepping aside to let them enter the laid-back vibe of his dimly lit living room.

Chosen and Augustus step inside, both giving the place a quick once-over—fairy lights strung haphazardly along the ceiling, a suspiciously large collection of throw pillows on the couch, and the faint smell of a cinnamon scented candle that’s burning on his coffee table. Chosen drops his bag beside the couch with a soft thud, already kicking off his shoes as he settles in.

John flops onto the couch and grabs the remote like it’s muscle memory. “Any suggestions for what to put on, or do you just want me to choose?” he asks, glancing over at the other two. They both shrug at the same time, which makes John chuckle.

He raises an eyebrow like he’s about to offer something sacred. “Alright. Dazed and Confused or 2001: A Space Odyssey?”

Chosen speaks up, “Do you want us to relax or spiral out?”

John laughs, moving to search up the movie, “Dazed and Confused, it is then.”

No one argues as John pulls the movie up and presses play, setting the remote down on the coffee table in favor of picking up his rolling tray.

Chosen’s eyes trail John’s movements as he grabs the tray and settles in like it’s second nature. The way his fingers move gracefully with practiced ease, like he’s done this a hundred times before, has Chosen locked in place, completely mesmerized.

John, fully aware he has an audience, leans in to seal the joint closed—his tongue running along the edge of the wrap, slow and unhurried. He flushes a little, seeing Chosen’s eyes catch on his mouth and stay there a beat too long.

A knowing smirk pulls at the corner of John’s mouth, “See something you like, pretty boy?”

Chosen feels his face heat up immediately, whipping his head to the side, ears burning pink as he suddenly becomes very interested in the pattern on the rug covering the living room floor. Augustus raises an eyebrow but says nothing, eyes darting between the two men before settling on Chosen, silently watching the exchange unfold with curiosity.

John clears his throat, shooting Augustus a quick look that is equal parts amused and teasing, before holding the finished joint up, “Anyone want to do the honors?”

Chosen gives a quick, almost shy nod, silently reaching out to grab the joint from John with a shaky hand. He rests it against his lips just as John passes him the lighter.

The flame flares for a second, and Chosen lets the dancing light calm his nerves for a second, before lighting the joint and taking a slow, controlled inhale. He holds it for a moment before exhaling smoothly.

Augustus watches, almost impressed. It’s obvious Chosen has smoked more since the last time the three of them had smoked together. No coughing, no wide-eyed panic, just calm, casual confidence that definitely wasn’t there two weeks ago.

John leans back against the couch cushions as Chosen takes a second, smooth hit, watching the smoke curl toward the ceiling. “Look at you,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing, “you’re a natural.”

Chosen feels the tips of his ears redden again, silently passing the joint back to John, who finally looks away from Chosen to make eye contact with Augustus.

“Do you feel comfortable hitting it yourself or do you want to shotgun your first few hits?”

Augustus goes a little red, “I don’t think I can smoke from it directly yet, I still don’t really know what I’m doing.”

John smiles softly, “That’s okay, are you comfortable with me helping you?”

Augustus nods, mumbling out a quiet “Yep.” John scoots a little closer, taking a slow hit, before reaching out and gently cupping Augustus' cheek, his fingertips warm against their skin as he leans in.

Augustus turns a bright, traitorous shade of pink, praying it’s hidden by the dim glow of the fairy lights in John’s living room. They let their eyes flutter shut, lips parting instinctively, heart beating so loud it feels like it might give them away.

Augustus leans in, resting their head into John’s hand as he exhales, smoke curling between their lips like a well-practiced routine. They relax into the sensation as they inhale, letting the warmth of the smoke settle comfortably in their chest.

John’s breath catches at the unexpected movement, how easily Augustus melted into his touch. His thumb moves instinctively, gently caressing Augustus’ cheekbone. It’s tender and soft in a way that John hadn’t planned, something he wouldn’t have done had he actually been thinking at the time.

As Augustus opens their eyes, they find John already looking back at them with a soft look of fondness that they’d never seen before. It was enough to nearly knock the air out of Augustus’ lungs. Both men freeze, just for a moment, both of them flushed and still, caught in the gravity of each other's gaze. Everything else falls away, the background noise of the movie long since forgotten.

And then the couch creaks and breaks the moment.

Chosen shifts, trying to get more comfortable while facing directly ahead at the TV, seemingly unaware of the accidental interruption until John and Augustus both whip their heads towards him like they’d been caught doing something they weren’t meant to be doing. Their faces burn hotter with the awareness that they, in fact, were not alone in the moment.

John opens his mouth to apologize, but the words die on his tongue when he sees the man. The slight pink blush coloring the tips of his ears and the way his gaze is fixed anywhere but on them.

John recovers quickly, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he scoots over on the couch, patting the spot beside him. “Your turn, pretty boy,” he says, tone playfully teasing, “come over here.”

Chosen rolls his eyes, attempting to feign indifference, but a nervous look appears on his face as he pushes himself up and crosses the short distance, face still stained a light shade of pink. He feels a little floaty from the weed, the buzz helping to calm the nerves bubbling under his skin as he sits down next to John.

John reaches out for the joint again, but Chosen reacts faster, swatting his hand away and picking it up himself. John raises an eyebrow, curious and amused, but doesn’t argue.

“The student becomes the teacher,” Chosen says, cockily, though his voice wavers slightly at the end. He recovers quickly, bringing the joint to his lips like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He inhales smoothly, holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment before turning to John.

Without giving himself time to overthink it, he reaches out and gently grabs John’s face. He pulls him in close, thumb encouraging his lips to part, and exhales slowly into John’s mouth.

Chosen’s not entirely sure where this sudden surge of confidence came from—maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the way John’s pupils dilate the second their eyes meet—whatever the cause may be, he’s here now. And with John looking at him like that, eyes locked on him like he's the only thing in the room, Chosen decides he doesn’t want to come down anytime soon.

Before his brain has a chance to process what he’s doing, Chosen closes the short distance between himself and John, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It’s tentative, almost shy, but still undeniably there—real and warm and dizzying.

The moment barely has time to settle before a high-pitched squeak from Augustus cuts through the air, jolting them both apart like they’ve been hit with a stun gun. Chosen pulls back first, eyes wide in pure, unfiltered panic as he stares at John like he’s just made the biggest mistake of his life.

“Sorry, I don’t know what came over me–” he stammers, already scrambling to his feet. In his rush to get away, he bumps into the coffee table with a loud thunk, nearly toppling over it.
John reacts instantly, reaching out to steady him with both hands. “Hey, it’s okay,” he says, voice low and gentle. “I didn’t mind it, I mean, I enjoyed it.”

But Chosen isn’t hearing him. His eyes keep darting back and forth between John and Augustus, his breaths coming quicker now, chest rising and falling in tight, rapid bursts. He takes another step back. “I don’t– I’m sorry– I shouldn’t have–”

Augustus snaps into action before things spiral any further. They notice the shallow breathing, the way Chosen’s shoulders are trembling, and how his hands are clenched into fists at his sides. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” they say quickly, stepping toward him. “You’re okay. We’re all cool here. Just breathe with me, alright?”

There’s a pause before Chosen lets them guide him back down onto the couch, his whole body tense as he collapses into the space between them. John shifts closer on instinct, his eyes searching Chosen’s face for any sign of permission before reaching out. Chosen gives him a small nod.

John gently rubs a hand along his back, grounding and slow, then takes Chosen’s hand and places it over his own chest. “Breathe with me,” he says softly. “Just follow the rhythm. In and out, nice and slow.”

Chosen closes his eyes and nods again, focusing on the steady rise and fall beneath his palm. Augustus mirrors the motion on his other side, keeping their voice low and steady as they murmur reassurances, anchoring him in the moment.
Five minutes pass like that—quiet, steady, safe. And slowly, Chosen’s breathing starts to even out.

He ducks his head, face still flushed, and lets out a shaky laugh that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m… I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I’ve never really done this before. I guess I just got overwhelmed and freaked myself out.”

John and Augustus don’t say anything right away. They don’t need to. Their presence, their softness, says enough.

“You’re good,” Augustus finally says, nudging his knee gently. “We’re figuring it out together, okay?”

John nods in agreement, his hand still warm on Chosen’s back. “Yeah. No pressure. Just… be here with us.”

Chosen nods slowly, body suddenly feeling like it's made of something much heavier than flesh and bone. It’s not unpleasant—more like the kind of tiredness that comes after crying or swimming or finally saying something you were scared to admit out loud. He leans into it, and into John, resting his head on his shoulder with a soft sigh.

“Would you guys mind if I fell asleep and missed the end of the movie?” he mumbles, voice already thick with drowsiness.

John glances down at him with a soft, fond smile. “Not at all,” he says gently. “You might be more comfortable in a bed, though. You wanna steal my room?”

Chosen immediately shakes his head, the movement small but determined. “Wanna stay with you two,” he mumbles. “Just feel sleepy after… everything.”

John nods, no questions asked, just understanding in his eyes. He looks over Chosen’s head to Augustus, the two of them communicating silently in that weird, unspoken way they’ve somehow developed over the past few months they’ve been working together. One raised eyebrow, a small tilt of the head, a subtle smirk—it’s a whole conversation, wordless but understood. Neither of them knows when it started, but neither of them really wants to mess with it either. It just works.

John looks back down, brushing a hand lightly through Chosen’s hair. “We can all move to my bed, if you want? I’ve got a king, so there’s plenty of space for us all.”

Chosen hums in approval, nodding again without lifting his head. It’s all the answer John needs.
They get up slowly, limbs heavy and energy low, the kind of calm that follows the unraveling of tension. Augustus silently grabs Chosen’s Oodie and his slightly beat up Kirby plush from where it’s peeking out of his backpack.

John leads the way down the hall, flicking on the soft bedside lamp once they’re in his room. The bed really is huge, all messy blankets and way too many pillows, but to Chosen, it looks like an Oasis.

Without a word, they all climb in, naturally gravitating into place like it’s something they’ve done a million times before. Chosen ends up in the middle, cocooned in his Oodie and clutching Kirby to his chest, surrounded by Augustus and John on either side.

The room settles into a peaceful kind of silence. There’s no pressure to talk, no need to fill the quiet. Just warmth, and the sound of slow, steady breathing.

John shifts, throwing an arm around Chosen’s waist, while Augustus links their pinky with his under the blanket. Chosen turns his head to press a soft kiss to both John and Augustus’ cheeks before closing his eyes and fully settling into the bed.

And that is how the three of them fall asleep—safe, sleepy, and exactly where they’re meant to be.