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Smut Warning

Braxton and Benjamin smoked out the window of his bedroom while he played some music in the background. Braxton was higher than Benjamin was, as he had started before him. Not to mention, Ben knew how to handle his weed far better.

"Your room is cleaner than I imagined it to be," Ben tells him.

"You've imagined my room?"

"Not really," Ben answered, "but if I were to imagine it, it wouldn't look like this."

Ben hadn't actually put a lot of thought into what his room would look like, or his house in general. Simply, he would have imagined that his room would be dirty, or messy, or just disorderly in some sort of fashion. He didn't think that it would be so entirely absurd to have the premonition that a man who carries himself in such a chaotic manner would also have to a room that was set up in the same kind of chaotic way. The walls were white, as Braxton had just moved in not too long ago, and everything just seemed to tidy.

"Oh, so you weren't imagining just the room then," Braxton said, taking a pause to inhale some of the smoke and then he blew it right out his window. He let out a small smile as he prepared to say what he was going to say next, "so, in your imagination, it wasn't just my room, right? Was it what we were doing in my room?"

Ben couldn't help but roll his eyes as far back as physics would allow him to, "why do you have to act like that? I mean, really? Why do you have to act like that?"

"Despite how grumpy you always are, you're secretly a fan," he takes another hit.

Benjamin frowns at him, having nothing to retaliate with, "stop hogging the blunt for fucksake. You already smoked before I came, so let me catch up."

The two sat quietly for a few minutes, listening to the calm music play in the background. After a few more several hits, Ben finally began to feel it kicking in. He had built up a great tolerance for weed since he smoked so frequently, but nonetheless, it didn't take too much for him to feel something. Weed kicks in far quicker when a person has a tinier build.

"So," Benjamin started, trying to fill the awkward silence with words, "I think that I'm high enough to ask you this question, so here goes nothing. Are you just a complete self-absorbed asshole who just hits on me to get a kick out of it or are you like, you know, not entirely straight?"

"Benji, are you fucking slow or something?" Braxton laughed, and clearly something had gone over Benjamin's head, "I practically answered this in our first ever conversation. It's no secret that I play for both teams. Would be a shame if I was straight. I'm just too hot to settle for one gender, you know?"

Ben chose to ignore the last part of what Braxton said, "do you actually?"

"I've been with a few guys," he admits, "I guess it just doesn't really matter to me if someone's a boy or a girl. I guess if I find someone attractive, it doesn't matter what's in their pants."

"So, when you say you've been with guys, do you mean, like, sex?"

"Not yet," he answered as cockily as always.

"Oh, so you think that's gonna change?" Ben narrowed his eyes at him, almost finding his words to be comical.

"After tonight it will," he joked.

"I wish you would stop joking about that kind of stuff," Benjamin tells him in the hopes of getting him to stop, "really, you're not funny."

"Not a joke," he states, and Benjamin is left utterly confused. He cant tell if Braxton is joking about not joking, because he was just confusing like that, "the first time we talked, I said that I had a big dick and I'd prove it to you, and that offer still stands."

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