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They’re currently in Joel’s living room, with what used to be a couple of dime bags on the table in front of them. Ray’s sprawled out on the couch, Xbox controller held loosely in his hands, eyes half lidded and barely focusing on the screen. Joel idly wipes ash and resin on his jeans before lighting the newly packed bowl and drawing smoke into the pipe. Taking his thumb off the carb he inhales deep, savoring the light burn in the back of his throat.
Ray swears at the kill screen and turns to Joel, extending his hand out for the pipe just as Joel exhales a cloud of smoke in his face. “So not cool,” he mutters as he lights up another hit.
“Your face isn’t cool,” Joel sighs, some how managing to sink further into the couch. He shakes his head when Ray tries to pass it back to him and just enjoys watching Ray’s lips form words that takes a minute to understand.
“Christ you are old,” Ray teases, putting the unsmoked herb out with the end of the lighter. He carefully sets the pipe aside, safely out of range of flailing limbs if it happens to come down to that, and restarts his game.
Two kills later Joel pipes up with a, “Hey! You weren’t saying that this morning. Or during lunch. Or on the ride home.” He makes a move toward Ray’s face as if to possibly knock his glasses off before deciding it was too much work and letting his arm flop down between them.
Joel simply looks at Ray, taking in all the details he’s seemed to miss until just now. Like the way he curls his lip when he’s particularly annoyed with a game. Or the way he leans forward slightly toward the screen when he’s really focused. Or the way he gets so engrossed in what is happening in the game that he doesn’t pay attention to Joel’s hand as it slides down his thigh to rest comfortably above his knee lie it belongs there.
And, hey, when did that happen? But the denim of Ray’s jeans are so soft under Joel’s fingers, this slight fuzz from being worn so often. Joel can’t help feeling the fabric, the warm, solid, smooth heat of Ray’s leg under the well-worn, soft denim. And there’s such a contrast in the texture of his jeans under Joel’s fingers depending on the pressure he places on the younger man’s leg as he traces idle circles across the top of his leg. A firm pressure yeilds a rough drag of skin against fabric, while a light skim tickles the tips of his fingers, the soft fibers caressing Joel’s hand and making him want to nuzzle his cheek into Ray’s thigh.
Suddenly a hand comes from no where and clamps firmly on to Joel’s shaking him back into reality. “Dude, seriously. Don’t start something you can’t finish,” Ray says, pupils blown wide, whites gone red.
“Who says I can’t finish? Don’t make assumptions,” Joel replies, turning to face Ray. He gently pulls out of Ray’s grip and reclaims his hand to drag it through the back of Ray’s hair. And he gets lost again in the way Ray’s hair feels different depending on the direction he cards his fingers through it. Up makes his hair resist and bounce back abruptly when finally free of Joel’s fingers, but down, that was entirely different. Ray’s short hair was so silky smooth- when it was being treated nicely- cool almost. Well, really it was hair temperature, but up- it was warmer, closer to body temperature.
Ray laughs and kisses Joel suddenly, a quick press of lips and then he’s gone and Joel’s brain still hasn’t caught up, still trying to process the difference in hair temperature and resistance but then there’s a tingle in his lips and he feels like he’s missing something. He watches Ray watch him for a moment their faces inches apart, currently he’s feeling lazy and a little lost in the fog, but he’s pretty sure Ray’s laughing at him.
Joel can feel the younger man’s breath come out in long, even puffs of air against his face and he realizes he still has his hand threaded through the back of his hair. Pressing gently, Joel tugs Ray closer, watching cross-eyed as Ray’s eyes droop shut, his hand going limp and the controller hitting the floor with a thud. Ray’s hand comes up to Joel’s cheek, deepening the kiss and directing Joel to lean back. Letting himself be pushed into the couch, Joel’s eyes finally shut as he runs a hand up the back of Ray’s shirt.
Then instantly Joel’s world is nothing but smooth skin, soft and warm stretching on for ages, each and every inch so very different than the last. There are the nubs of Ray’s spine, traveling up as far as Joel can reach and directing his hand back down lazily. Just under the hot flesh is a steady thump that draws his attention across the rhythmic dip of each rib that guides him from Ray’s back to his chest. From this angle not only is his heart beat more prominent but he can feel Ray’s lungs contract and expand with every breath.
Joel drags his hands down either side of Ray's rib cage to rest on the jut of his hips, thumbs idly tracing circles into his skin. Ray shudders as Joel dips the tips of his fingers just under the waist band of his jeans for a better grip. His hands slide slowly from either side of Joel's face to his chest before coming back up to hold his head in place. Mind fried, Ray's unable to process what he's doing any longer, just allowing himself to make as much contact as possible, getting lost in the world of touch. His world's become nothing but the feel of Joel's skin and the softness of his well-worn t-shirt, and when Joel's eyes open to look up at Ray, pupils blown from too much pot and too little light Ray can't keep from gently cupping either side of his face and leaning in for a kiss.
It's messy and clumsy and Ray's sure he's being too aggressive and Joel's too far gone to actually keep up but its perfect. It's perfect when Joel hums against Ray's mouth. It’s perfect when Joel's hands jump restlessly from his hips to his neck then back and sides, never settling in one spot, just constantly feeling. It's perfect when Joel squirms under Ray, body clearly wanting more but physically unable to do anything other than shutter and sigh. And it's especially perfect when Ray pulls back to look at Joel, he just accepts the loss and looks up at Ray with a genuinely content smile and half lidded eyes.
Ray can't help himself, can't help the way his stupid stomach lurches or his stupid heart fucking flutters, and he feels absolutely ridiculous sitting on the older man’s lap wanting nothing more than to just take and feel and never exist anywhere else but here. But of course when Joel giggles and pulls Ray down by the collar of his shirt he stops caring so much. In stead of kissing Joel like he’d probably been planning Ray gets lost in the feel of Joel’s skin and he thinks, ‘Can’t remember what it tastes like.’
When Ray brushes his slightly chapped lips over the junction of neck and collarbone a small, broken sound escapes from Joel’s throat and his hands ruck back up under Ray’s shirt. Ray mouths his way up the side of Joel's neck, pausing over a nearly gone mark to bite down possibly too roughly if the hiss and sink of nails in Ray's back is any indication. He worries the flesh lightly between his teeth for a moment, eliciting a loud moan from Joel before pulling back and soothing it with his tongue. Suddenly there's a hand at the back of his head trying to guide him back up but Ray resists, sucking a quickly darkening bruise up over the bitten flesh. Under him, Joel is squirming mindlessly, making the most delicious noises and panting Ray's name with every other breath.
When Ray moves from Joel's neck to his ear lobe, Joel's hand slides down from his back to cup his ass and pull him closer, his hand still tangled at the back of Ray's head. "You know, I was going to get you stoned and then have sex with you," Joel tells Ray a bit out of breath.
Chuckling Ray traces the shell of Joel's ear one final time before lazily kissing his way down Joel's jaw. "Really?" he asks, hovering over Joel's lips so close they brush Ray's own when the other man replies.
"Mmm, yeah," he stretches out lazily under Ray, his hand coming up to cup Ray's cheek and run his thumb over the younger man's bottom lip. "But now there's no way in hell I'm moving."
Ray brushes a kiss to Joel's smirk before he says, "Your ideas are always terrible." Shifting his weight he hovers above Joel now, body thinking its somehow a good idea to attempt to hold itself up on his forearms.
“Really? Cuz I’m thinking Taco Bell,” Joel tells him. And when he grins up at him lazily, Ray feels like he’s been punched in the gut and all the air’s been sucked out of the room and his heart does that stupid thing again, so he just leans down to press a kiss to Joel’s mouth. He feels that stupid grin still, and his stupid brain thinks that’s amazing and his stupid emotions think so too. When Joel’s arms wrap around him, holding him so fucking gently like Ray’s going to break and so firm he can’t actually break free Ray’s pretty sure this stupid fucking asshole is going to be the death of him.
The kiss finally slows to a stop, mostly because Joel’s too high to really focus on anything for too long and he just pulls away to brush the tips of their noses together before giggling softly to himself. And really, yeah, okay. Fuck him, there’s no way anyone that age has the right to be so adorable.
“Think they’d deliver?” Ray teasingly asks, unable to keep the emotion out of his voice. But Joel doesn’t seem to notice, thankfully. He’s too busy pondering Ray’s question, eyebrows knitting together in a thoughtful frown. Joel’s fingertips idly tracing up and down the same small patch of Ray’s spine through his shirt, causing him to shiver slightly from the goose bumps that were forming.
“We can call and ask!” Joel brightly exclaims after a long moment. Then his eyes are focusing intently on Ray’s face and Ray can’t stand it so he ducks down to Joel’s neck again to mouth at the spot he left earlier. Joel moans quietly when Ray traces the mark with his tongue gently. His hands move again, one gripping Ray’s hip tightly, the other flies up to the back of Ray’s head and clinches in his hair.
“If you really wanna get up...” Ray breathes hot against Joel’s ear, causing Joel to shudder.
“M’good,” his hand tightens in Ray’s hair as he worries his earlobe between his teeth just shy of too rough.
And then Joel’s hand is rucking up Ray’s shirt again and his finger’s are dipping low under the waistband of Ray’s jeans. Ray gently wraps a hand around Joe’s wrist and pulls him back. He sits up a bit to look at Joel and realizes for the first time that he’s half hard and wanting, but there was no way either of them were up for it, no matter what Joel’s intentions had been earlier that night.
“Really don’t think that’s going to happen right now,” he tells Joel quietly, fingers rubbing softly at the delicate skin on the underside of Joel’s wrist.
Joel opens his mouth to say something but when he notices Ray’s shiny, wet lips he forgets what it was. He watches Ray’s face go from intent to vaguely confused before Joel pulls loose from Ray’s grip and cups his face, pulling him down to lap lazily into Ray’s mouth. Their noses bump more than would normally be acceptable and Joel tilts Ray’s head at a new strange angle every time they take a breath. But its pretty much the best thing Ray has ever experienced, having this insane, impossible man’s undivided attention on nothing but himself.
Joel slows the kiss to a stop and lets Ray go. The start screen of the game that Ray was playing is still going on in the back ground and Joel becomes slightly aware of it after it loops yet again. Ray’s fingers tickle as they trace the letters on Joel’s shirt and he just watches the younger man. Hooking a finger under Ray’s chin, Joel tilts his face up so he can look the younger man in the eye. His pupils are huge, iris almost gone and the whites are red and irritated looking.
The thought that had been half formed in Joel’s mind disappeared and he couldn’t help but laugh at the man sitting in his lap. “You’re so high right now,” Joel tells him giggling like its the best joke in the world.
Ray just scoffs, “Pfft, you should look in a mirror.”