3:15 [fezco]

six

SIX - O U I

"it's no better feeling, you know, when i'm next to her, for sure."

---

Just three days later, I found myself sitting up against the headboard of Fezco's bed working on my French homework while he sat beside me, blunt in hand as usual. He had broken the silence a few times, but for the most part, sat and stared at me while I worked on translating. I only glanced up when his hand appeared in front of my face, offering me the blunt he had been smoking.

"You ain't gotta take it if you don't wanna." He spoke up. He slowly pulled his hand away upon noticing my hesitance, but I grabbed it quickly.

"I'll try it." I smiled, taking the blunt from between his fingers.

"Try? Like you ain't never smoked before?" He shot me a pointed look. "Nah, Soph. I'm gon' take my offer back." 

I swatted his hand that reached out to take the weed back and rolled my eyes, noting that he watched me intensely while I hesitantly raised it to my lips. Just one hit, you can do it. I gave myself some much-needed mental encouragement before deciding to bite the bullet. I placed the blunt in my mouth and gave one long, deep inhale; immediately my throat began to burn, and I found myself coughing harshly.

"Oh, that's awful! How do you do that?" I sputtered, immediately passing the blunt back to Fez. His laughter broke through the air as his hand began to gently rub my back.

"You get used to it eventually." He assured, taking a smooth hit from the blunt. I squinted at him before holding my hand out for another hit. He said nothing but merely raised his eyebrow as he passed it back to me, watching as I once again choked on my inhale of the smoke. "You good, Sunshine?"

"I-I'm good." I coughed. "You said I'd get used to it, right?" Fez hummed gently in agreement. For the next half hour, we sat in silence passing the blunt back and forth every so often until it was gone, and the effects of the weed began to hit. I felt more relaxed, ditching my homework to the floor in favor of laying my head on Fezco's lap and letting him play with my hair.

"Tell me somethin' in French." He instructed, glancing down at me through hooded eyes.

"Okay, um..." I trailed off. "Tu as de beaux yeux et tes taches de rousseur sont très mignonnes."

"I don't know what the fuck you just said, but it was the sexiest thing I've ever heard." He stared down at me and slowly licked his lips.

"I said you have beautiful eyes, and that your freckles are very cute." I laughed.

"Mhm, tell me somethin' else." He prodded. When I scrunched up my face in confusion, he shrugged. "You just sound real sexy when you talk to me like that. I like it."

"Si tu penses que je suis sexy maintenant, tu devrais me voir nue." My eyes fell on his lips. His perfect, soft, kissable—

"I think you said somethin' about being nude." He shifted my head off of his lap. I sat up gave him a small nod, crawling in his lap. His hands fell on my waist, head tipped up against my chest to look at me. "Well, whatever it was, you naked is somethin' I'd like to see."

I smiled widely as I softly pressed my lips against his. Beginning with small pecks, one of his hands found its way to the back of my neck, pulling me in closer as his tongue met mine, both fighting for dominance. My hands slipped under his shirt, gently scratching my nails across the bare skin.

"Enlevez ceci. Je veux te voir." My hands pulled at the bottom of his shirt. I was met with a small moan, but before I could pull his shirt off, the doorbell rang from downstairs, eliciting a groan from the boy below me.