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“Open up!” he yells, without regard for whatever Kuroo is doing. Whatever it is, it can’t be more important than Oikawa. When he doesn’t hear a response, he starts banging on it with a threat. “Kuroo Tetsurou if you don’t open this door I will release every single one of your drunk photos to the internet.”

Even his thinly-veiled threat doesn’t work. Tragic. And then it hits him: what if Kuroo is actually hurt? What if he’s in trouble and he’s being an insensitive little bastard threatening him? What if—

The door opens.

“What the hell do you want? I was in the bathroom.” Kuroo looks unimpressed.

Oikawa doesn’t respond, just pushes past him and looks around the room for any sign of trouble.

“I can’t believe you. I was getting worried and you were in the bathroom taking a shit? Unbelievable.”

“You weren’t dying Tooru.” Kuroo says, rolling his eyes as he shuts the door. “Why are you here anyway? Again? God it’s like you’re obsessed with me.”

Oikawa huffs, debating whether or not Kuroo even deserves his gift. But he already went through the trouble of securing it, so he might as well give it to him.

He throws the package at Kuroo, hitting him square in the face. “There.”

“Ow, what the hell?” Kuroo rubs at his face. “What is this?”

“It’s a gift.” Oikawa shrugs. “Open it.”

Kuroo gives him the side-eye. “You got me a gift? What, are you dying or something? Did you do something stupid and you want me to take the blame for it? Because I swear to god if you—”

Oikawa rolls his eyes and sits on Kuroo’s bed. “Dude,” Oikawa says, annoyed at Kuroo’s slowness, “Just open it already.”

“Fine, fine.” Kuroo says aggressively, tearing open the package with zero finesse.

In all honesty, Oikawa should have expected this, but he wishes Kuroo would take the time to appreciate how well he had wrapped the gift. He even stopped by the dollar store and chose a cute little box to store it in, before getting distracted in the stationary and coating the damn thing with fruity little stickers.

(He wonders if this is what Iwaizumi meant when he said he has too much time on his hands.)

Kuroo opens the box, and Oikawa sits there giddy with anticipation. “Bro,” Kuroo says, looking at him with wide eyes. “You did not.”

Oikawa grins, chest blooming with pride. “Bro, I did.”

Kuroo lifts the little bag carefully placed inside the box, and holds his other hand to his heart. He’s so touched. “Tooru, I can’t believe you got me weed.”

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.

.

There was, of course, one problem.

They’ve never actually smoked weed before. Together or separately, they were just newbies. But it’s not going to be a problem— they’ve made it to university and passed their first year. There’s nothing they can’t do with the power of google and youtube on their side.

Oikawa inspects the bag. “I mean, don’t we just need to light it and then we’re all good?”

“Theoretically that’s correct.” Kuroo says, head bent low with his face too close to the phone. God bless him, he seriously needs glasses. (college truly takes and takes, and eyesight is not an exception). Though if Oikawa thinks about it, it’s probably the late night gaming sessions to blame; Kuroo’s stupid little discord icon is always online. “If it was already rolled into a blunt, it might be that simple…”

“Would you stop overthinking whatever is on your mind and just spit it out.” Oikawa grunts.

“I think we have to roll it first.” he says matter of factly. “Tooru, why didn’t you buy them pre-rolled?”

“I didn’t think that far!” Oikawa defends himself. He’s never going to do anything nice for Kuroo again. Not with all these criticisms. “We can roll it. We’ll figure it out.”

Well, they try to figure it out. The two of them huddle around Kuroo’s tiny phone screen and watch a video on how to do it. Apparently the first step is grinding their weed.

Oikawa frowns. “Do you have a grinder?”

Kuroo tilts his head, confused. “Like the dating app? Obviously not what do you think—”

Oikawa smacks him with the nearest pillow. “Were you even watching the video? I meant a literal grinder dumbass.”

Kuroo smacks him back, and Oikawa briefly feels like he’s been sent to another dimension and back . “Hey!” he says, irritated. “I told you only Iwa-chan can hit me!”

“We don’t have a grinder. Why does it need to be grinded anyway? Won’t that just dilute the effects or whatever? Let’s move on to the next step.”

Oikawa is dubious about Kuroo’s logic but he has nothing to contribute except pure vibes so he just shrugs. He lets Kuroo unpause the video without saying a word.

He’s so glad nobody is watching them do this, because as the video progresses he realises they have literally none of the things they need to roll a blunt. A grinder? Tobacco paper? All they have is Kuroo’s student card that they’re using to transfer the weed from the table and back into the little bag. This is so embarrassing to witness.

Oikawa watches as Kuroo rips a random piece of paper out of a tiny notebook. “Tetsu,” he finally speaks up when Kuroo tries to roll his blunt like it's sushi. In the same way that he would not eat Kuroo’s homemade sushi, he is not smoking this blunt. “This isn’t right. We can’t light this shit up.”

Kuroo sighs, absolutely resigned— he looks like he wishes he was never even born. Oikawa notes that this is just his resting face (some people have resting bitch face, but Kuroo just looks like he’s been let down one too many times).

Kuroo looks so hopeless sometimes that Oikawa wonders how the hell he was ever allowed on the Freshers Welcoming Committee. What kind of image would the university be selling if their very own students looked depressed? They should have picked someone fresh and pretty, like Oikawa, instead.

“Well, do you have any better ideas?” Kuroo huffs.

“Don’t you know any stoners in the area? As a RA, I would’ve thought you at least had some connections. Come on, use your status of authority and hook us up.”

“It’s exactly because I’m a RA that I can’t just fucking ask.” Kuroo groans. “What image would I be putting out if I, the authority figure, started asking my residents how to roll a blunt? They’d think I’m a loser.”

Oikawa lets him have his little drama queen moment. Kuroo always does this; he acts like he’s given up and then a few minutes later he has a new plan. He looks around Kuroo’s room in the meantime.

There’s a growing pile of dirty laundry on the floor. A stack of clothes building up in a heap on his chair. A number of old takeaway boxes that he has yet to throw out. Yep, it’s confirmed. Kuroo Tetsurou is your typical dirty ass college student.

“Wait!” Kuroo suddenly exclaims, pulling out his phone and typing a message on his phone at lightning fast speed. “I do know someone. She’s also a RA and definitely won’t rat us out.”

Oikawa cheers and claps his hands. “We’re saved! Hopefully she can pull through.”

Kuroo looks smug. “Oh trust me. She will.”

.

.

.

“What the fuck?” Oikawa immediately slams the door and whisper shouts, “Why the hell would you ask Y/N for help? She’s my RA.”

“Uh,” Kuroo scratches his head before giving him a pleased smile, “Because she’s not a snitch? Because she goes to frat parties and definitely knows how to roll a blunt? Because we’re two idiots who don’t know what they’re doing? Come on, aren’t you into her?”

“Wha— I am not— Why the fuck is your voice so loud?” Oikawa wants to strangle him. “Why would you not tell me she’s coming?”

A knock interrupts their whispered shouting. “Are you guys gonna keep me standing here all night?”

Oikawa turns to Kuroo in panic, and his only response is to shrug. Fuck Kuroo. He is never, ever, ever, going to do anything nice for Kuroo again. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d act like this and run away. She’s our only option— we can’t let this weed go to waste.”

Kuroo pushes him to the side and opens the door, and all Oikawa can do is force a blank expression on his face to hide how he’s really feeling. It’s just Y/N, Oikawa reminds himself. His pretty RA.

The door opens and you walk in, wearing an oversized button up shirt and leggings. This zoom aesthetic outfit should not look that good.

Your hot and sexy RA, the demonic voice whispers in Oikawa’s head. Sometimes, Oikawa deludes himself into thinking that he’s going to focus on his studies at college and not be distracted by relationships. But when the devil can’t reach him, he sends you and Oikawa knows, without a doubt, that he is fucked. (or wants to be).

“Hey Tooru,” you greet, sinister smile on your face, “Thanks for slamming the door in my face.”

Oikawa pouts, “I didn’t know you were coming. We’re supposed to hide drugs from RAs, not ask them to roll blunts for us.”

“Where is it?” you ask, and Kuroo happily directs you to his desk.

“We’ve never done it before,” Kuroo explains shamelessly, before Oikawa can stop him, “so we don’t have any supplies. I’m not even going to describe to you what we were doing before I texted you.”

You laugh and Oikawa frowns. Even your stupid laugh is cute. “Okay, I can help. But can I collect my payment first?”

“What payment?” Oikawa asks, confused.

Kuroo lets out a forced laugh, doing a time-out motion but you just raise an eyebrow at him. “Kuroo said—”

Oikawa goes to speak but before he can, Kuroo’s hand slaps it over his mouth and says, “Give us a minute will you, let me just speak to him over there.”

Kuroo drags him to the bathroom before you can get another word in. Oikawa waits until he closes the door before he says “Explain before I tell the girl you’ve been crushing on down the hall that you’ve had wet dreams about her for the past week now.”

“You bastard!”

“Explain!”

Oikawa smacks Kuroo’s arm. “What does she mean by payment?”

“Well,” Kuroo says, clasping his hands in front of him to look like the picture of a good boy. It works on lesser mortals usually, but Oikawa’s immune to his petty ways— he is not fooled. “I knew the only way she’d come was if I told her that you would…”

“I would…” Oikawa’s patience is growing thin. “Speak up asshole!”

Kuroo huffs. “I told her that we needed some help for our little problem, and I may have vaguely, loosely, noncommittally, said that you would kiss her for helping.”

Oikawa hits him again and Kuroo just takes it. The mark of the guilty. “Tetsu! Why the fuck would you say that?”

“Because!” Kuroo pouts. “I know she’s into you, and she would have come over if I said that. And I also knew you wouldn’t mind, because you yearn for her with your di—”

Oikawa covers his ears. He can’t believe Kuroo would betray him once again. Actually, he  can believe it. This stupid rooster head is conniving in his own ways. It’s quite frankly the only explanation he has on how he became volleyball captain in high school.

(Okay, Kuroo is also nice and super funny, but that is not Oikawa’s point right now.)

“Tooruuuu,” Kuroo whines, shaking him by the shoulders, “I mean if you really don’t want to kiss her, it’s fine. We don’t have to smoke, we can just tell her to beat it and watch a movie.”

But here’s the thing. Anger, betrayal and other unforgivable sins aside, Oikawa does want to kiss you. Carefully, he starts, “She’s into me?”

Kuroo nods confidently. “Well she’s here isn’t she? Ready to collect payment.”

Oikawa turns to the mirror and fluffs his hair, “I guess I can take one for the team. I do look cute today.”

He opens his mouth and breathes on Kuroo, “Does my breath smell weird?”

Kuroo’s nose crinkles, “Can’t you smell that shit yourself? It smells fine, I guess.”

Oikawa gasps dramatically. “Just fine? That means it smells like ass. I can’t kiss Y/N with bad breath, where the hell is your mouthwash?”

Kuroo sighs, crouching down to open a cupboard below the sink. He hands him a bottle, “Here you go.”

After what feels like an eternity in the bathroom getting ready to kiss you, Oikawa decides he’s ready to make the ultimate sacrifice and pucker up his frog lips to kiss the princess. He says this to Kuroo who scoffs, “Don’t act like you wouldn’t have done this out of free will.”

Oikawa glares at him. “People who sold my body for free blunt rolls aren’t allowed to speak. Stay here while I secure the deal.”

“What!” Kuroo exclaims, trying to leave the bathroom. “Why do I have to stay here?”

“Because why the hell should you watch me kiss her?” Oikawa protests. “You absolute freak.”

Oikawa walks out of the bathroom before he can say anything else. In the time they were in the bathroom, he finds that you made yourself comfortable and took a seat on Kuroo’s bed.

Oikawa clears his throat. “Sorry about that. Small misunderstanding. I’m ready to provide payment.”

You tilt your head to the side. “You don’t have to do it.”

“What?” Oikawa can’t hide his frown. “You don’t want me to kiss you?”

“No.” you say simply, clearly checking him out from where you’re sitting. “Not if you don’t want to kiss me.”

“So you are into me.” Oikawa teases, giddy with excitement, while you sputter, “I didn’t fucking say that.”

“Is that why you’re always hanging around my room? I thought you were just a dedicated RA and—”

“Tooru, you’re the one who keeps locking yourself out of your room.”

“Well maybe there’s a reason why a smart guy like me would accidentally lock myself out of my room.” Oikawa teases as he sits down next to you on the bed.

“I thought you just liked annoying me.” you roll your eyes.

“I do,” Oikawa says, looking down before looking up through his eyelashes, trying to look seductive. “But mostly, you just look good standing by my door.”

You shake your head, smiling. “Well, are you going to kiss me? I’ve been waiting since the start of the semester.”

But before he can even lean in, a loud banging from the bathroom door interrupts, “Are you guys done yet? I just washed my sheets and—”

“Shut the hell up!” Oikawa yells, as you laugh. “Sorry about him.”

You poke at his side. “It’s okay. Here, let me roll the blunt first.”

Oikawa watches as you pull out a piece of gum and separate it from its wrapper. “I don’t have any rolling paper right now, but gum wrapper works.”

It’s something so simple but god you’re hot.

You shake your head laughing as you roll it. “Next time, just ask me when you want to smoke. I have connections, and this is really old school.”

“Okay.” Oikawa says, focused on the way you lick the wrapper to seal it, “Yeah, next time.”

“I’ll only do one because you losers have never done this before, and I don’t want any liability. Open the window when you light it up, or the smoke alarm might ring.”

Oikawa just nods obediently.

“Do you know how to inhale it properly?”

“Can you teach me?”

“Just inhale it and keep it in as long as you can.” you explain. “Try not to cough.”

“That’s vague.” Oikawa whines and you laugh.

“Sorry, you didn’t pay for smoking lessons.” you respond.

“I haven’t paid at all.”

“So? Pay now.” you tease, a challenging glint in your eyes as you lean in for what you’ve been waiting for.

It was a fairytale kind of kiss. Pure. Disney-friendly. Heartwarming. The stuff of dreams. At least that’s how he’ll describe it to Iwaizumi when he calls him. In truth, it was rather… slutty (feminist).

If Oikawa thinks about it, it couldn’t really have gone any other way. It’s been a long semester for him too. You’ve been a menace. Sometimes, Oikawa leaves his dorm at the tender hour of three in the afternoon, and you’re strutting about in tight leggings and a crop top. I mean, how is he supposed to pay attention in class after experiencing a debilitating event like that? Life could be so sick and twisted.

So really, he just says fuck this and goes for it. The Oikawa from a few months ago would have settled for a quick kiss, even just a little peck, but the current Oikawa has been through it. So what if he uses tongue? If his hands end up wandering elsewhere? If he cops a feel of your ass? Who can blame him? Live, laugh, lobotomy or whatever those inspirational quotes say.

Before it can go further though, Kuroo exits the bathroom, covering his eyes and yelling “Okay enough, you guys are done. Do it in your own time.”

The two of you laugh, though he pouts when you pull away. You give him a quick peck, before gathering yourself and walking to the door. “You know where to find me.”

“Thanks for the text, Tetsu. You can open your eyes now.”

Oh, how Oikawa loves to watch you go.

The door closes behind you and Kuroo quickly assesses the state of his room. He looks at Oikawa who has a shit eating grin on his face and says, “You look too happy. I don’t think it was just a simple kiss.”

Oikawa smirks. “Sorry, I don’t kiss and tell.”

.

.

.

Oikawa did bring something other than the weed and his cute self— a lighter. He takes it out of his pocket and says, “Let’s light this bad boy up.”

They’re like two little rats, huddling up at Kuroo’s desk. Oikawa starts the lighter while Kuroo holds the blunt. And without a drumroll, it’s lit.

Oikawa whoops as he watches Kuroo put one end of the blunt to his mouth and take a drag. Kuroo’s chest rises as he inhales, and he thinks it’s a successful hit until Kuroo breaks out into a coughing fit.

“God,” Oikawa sighs, taking the blunt from him, “Do you need water or something?”

Kuroo continues to cough and shakes his head, raising his hand. His eyes are watering and Oikawa feels a little bad, but he can’t help but say, “Man, you’re so weak.’

Kuroo glares at him, but it doesn’t have the same effect when his eyes are all watery and he’s wheezing like an asthmatic. “You try it then!”

Oikawa rolls his eyes. How hard could it be?

He brings the blunt to his mouth and takes a deep inhale. He tries to follow what you said, but all he can remember is his hands on your ass. The only warning he gets is a slight tickle at his throat before he too, is subject to a coughing fit.

Kuroo laughs, taking the blunt from him. “Ah, Oikawa Tooru. Who’s the loser now?”

.

.

.

They do end up getting used to it, passing it back and forth, until they end up lying on Kuroo’s dirty carpeted floor.

They’re blasting some random Spotify playlist in the background, and Oikawa suddenly feels a little emotional. Who knew this stupid rooster head he got randomly paired up with in his freshman year would end up being one of his best friends? And now they’re sharing a new experience together, lighting their first blunt. It’s so wholesome he’s lowkey tearing up.

“Bro,” Kuroo says concerned, “Are you crying?”

“Shut up!” Oikawa says, covering his face with his hands. “There’s just something in my eye.”

“Like what? Dust?” Kuroo snickers. “You’re totally emotional right now. I can’t believe you’re an emo stoner.”

“Literally shut the fuck up.” Oikawa grunts, feeling lame as fuck as he wipes his eyes. He blames it on the drugs. “I’m just so sad… about my big fat juicy ass.”

He wishes he could immortalize Kuroo’s face the moment he hears the words. But his senses are dulled, brain feeling fuzzy— all he can remember is Kuroo wheezing on the ground as tears stream down his face. “You,” he wheezes,  “your ass is not even that—”

Oikawa tries to smack him but he swings into thin air. “Fuck off, you can’t say anything!”

“It’s not big at all.”

“You have no room to speak, flat ass.” Oikawa says, wiping his tears.

Silence fills the air for a while. It’s peaceful, and Oikawa thinks he might fall asleep until—

“My ass is not flat. Take that shit back.”

Nevermind.

.

.

.

Oikawa wishes he could say all the time he spends in the gym is paying off. To be fair, he does think his ass is getting fatter and his biceps are bigger than they were before. But doesn't working out help you get stronger too? Kuroo doesn’t even fucking go to the gym and he can still hold his own against him in an arm wrestling competition.

After a non-homoerotic fisting session (do you mean a fist fight? Iwaizumi had asked, horrified when Oikawa retells the story later on. He isn’t an idiot, he knows what he means but he thinks it’s funny to tease him), they settle down.

They’re still lying on the carpet, just two bros vibing in this chaotic world.

“Tooru, can you lower the music? I think I can hear something.”

Oikawa glances over. “Oh, that was just me bro. I farted.”

Kuroo looks over in disgust. “Okay gross. But I’m serious, I can hear a beeping sound.”

Oikawa sighs as he rolls over, grabbing the phone to do as he’s told.

“I can’t hear anything.”

Kuroo shushes him, looking so concentrated Oikawa think he mights shit his pants, and then his eyes widen. “Oh fuck, oh god it’s the smoke detector! Get the fuck up right now, fuck—”

Oikawa rises faster than the second coming of Christ. Alarm bells go off in his head. “Oh my god,”  he yells, staring at the smoke detector, “oh fuck, what do we do—”

But Kuroo is already going through the five stages of grief, holding his head in his hands.  “I’m going to get fired. I’m going to be homeless. I’m going to be the first RA fired for smoking weed and getting caught—”

Oikawa cannot let his bro do this to himself. He slaps Kuroo with all the love he has for him and grabs him by the shoulder. “Tetsu, listen to me. You’re not going to get caught, get your shit together right now.”

Suddenly, your words from earlier flash through his head. “The window! Tetsu, the window!”  Oikawa yells, pushing Kuroo towards it. “Open the damn window, I’ll start fanning the smoke.”

Kuroo stumbles his way to the window, panic making his hands clumsy, proving to be detrimental to his task. Eventually,he manages to pull it open, while Oikawa flaps a pillow at the smoke as if he’s a bird trying to take flight.

“Shut up already!” Oikawa yells at the detector, as if it could listen to him.

Kuroo takes the blunt they were smoking and throws it into a week old cup of coffee laying around on his desk. It’s only after all these measures that the smoke detector finally stops ringing.

The adrenaline rushes out of their system like the smoke and they fall to the floor, looking like the final five minutes of a yoga class.

Oikawa’s heart hasn’t even found peace before Kuroo lifts his head and asks, “Wanna try rolling another one?”

.

.

.

Oikawa is what mere mortals would call a genius. But only selectively, because it’s too much effort to be good at everything. Sometimes, even geniuses like him want to have fun.

But on the rare day that being a genius and having fun aligns, it’s a damn good day.

“You cannot call yourself a genius for rolling a blunt.” Kuroo scoffs, but he’s simply jealous that when he tried, all the weed kept falling out. “Y/N taught you so it’s not a fair fight.”

“Unfortunately, I just watched her.” Oikawa sighs, thinking about how you could teach him while sitting on his lap. Next time.

“You gonna date her?” Kuroo asks, passing the blunt to him.

“I don’t know. It’s not like we talked about it. I’ll think about it later.” Oikawa takes a drag and breathes out. “I doubt she’s looking for anything serious.”

He passes the blunt back to Kuroo who takes a long, long drag. It makes Oikawa laugh,  “Woah, take it easy bro.”

“It’s fine.” he shrugs it off. “I need it.”

“Damn, you really have been stressed, huh?” Oikawa says, patting his shoulder. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Don’t tell me you’re getting all emo again.” Kuroo teases. “I don’t want to think about any of it right now anyway. This is nice.”

“I know.” Oikawa marvels. “I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve tried to destress like this.”

“I think my methods are fine.”

“Eating three pints of ice cream every time you fail a test is far from fine.”

“Yeah it is. It makes me happy.”

Oikawa shrugs and lets it go. Really, he can’t argue with that. Who is he to prevent Kuroo from getting diabetes?

“Speaking of happiness, you know what would be good right now?” Kuroo asks.

Oikawa shakes his head.

“Chicken nuggets and fries.”

“Bro.”

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.

.

In times of need, they call their honorary college bro: Bokuto.

Also known as Kuroo’s high school volleyball bronemesis, the sass master, Oikawa’s gym buddy and many other names.

Today, he is their delivery man.

Kuroo puts him on speaker. “Hey! What’s up bro?”

“I’m with Tooru.”

“Hey bro!” Oikawa pipes up.

“Bro! Where are you guys?”

“Nothing you want to know—” Oikawa says mysteriously at the same time Kuroo says, “We’re smoking weed in an empty parking lot.”

“Say no more.” Bokuto says.

“Bro, you love us right?” Kuroo asks.

There’s a silence and then comes Bokuto’s hesitant voice, “What do you need?”

“Can you buy us chicken nuggets and fries from McDonalds?”

“I want coke!” Oikawa hurriedly adds.

“Two cokes,” Bokuto confirms, “I’ll meet you at Tetsu’s dorm?”

“Yeah, we’ll be there.”

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.

.

The two bros skip their way back to Kuroo’s dorm holding hands. What a sight that would have been, but it’s college. Surely, there’s been weirder encounters.

Bokuto arrives a few minutes later, and is greeted by their cheers.

“Our Saviour is here!” Oikawa whoops, grabbing the food and drinks out of Bokuto’s hands, as Kuroo launches himself onto Bokuto for a hug.

“Bro! Did you get that sauce I like?”

Bokuto rolls his eyes. For the first time ever, he’s the most sensible one in the room. “Of course, how could I forget?”

Oikawa is smiling, but not at them. At the food, which he is carefully setting up on the floor. He hopes Kuroo has vacuumed this floor at least once this semester. He knows he’s going to drop a fry on the floor, and he’s not physically okay enough to calculate how much bacteria builds up on a french fry after the five second rule.

(Later, he drops a french fry and eats it anyway.)

Like all good things, their night ends. McDonalds devoured, and heart finally at peace— Oikawa is ready to go home.

“Let’s do this again bro!” he says as he gives Kuroo a hug.

“After finals?” Kuroo says, squeezing him tight.

“Sure.”

“Text me when you’re home. Love you bro.”

“Love you too, Tetsu.” Oikawa says, smiling. His heart feels warm at the sentiment. He was about to bully Kuroo into saying Oikawa is the best roommate in the world, but he’ll settle for love you bro.

Fuck toxic masculinity.

Bokuto drives him home, although his dorm is only two blocks away and bids his goodbyes too. He feels happy; there’s stars in the sky, weed in his system. What more could he ask for but sleep?

When he arrives at his front door, getting ready to put his key in the lock, he pauses. He turns his head to the left, and looks at the door at the far end.

He’s drawn to it, and finds himself knocking before he can have any second thoughts.

He hears footsteps at the door, and there’s a brief nerve-wrecking moment where he’s tempted to run away— then the door opens, revealing you in a massive t-shirt.

“Hi.” Oikawa greets, feeling sheepish now that you’re in front of him. “Am I bothering you?”

You smile softly at him. “No, I was waiting for you.”

a/n: you're welcome. just kidding!! this is one of my most favourite fics so i hope you enjoyed reading it... i tend to write a lot of serious long fics so it must be weird seeing this but alas, i have hidden depths. two buddies smoking weed can be so personal.