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01 March 2012 @ 03:03 pm
fic, Oryx and Crake: tell me how all this will ruin us (Jimmy/Crake), pg13  
Title: tell me how all this will ruin us [AO3]
Pairing: Jimmy/Crake
Rating: PG13
Word count: 850
Warnings: use of recreational drugs.
Disclaimer: Oryx and Crake belongs to Margaret Atwood. I'm not worthy.
Summary: “We really are full of faults,” Crake says while Jimmy brings the joint to his lips.
A/N: written for xarixian at a five acts round ages ago. The prompt was shotgunning. Title stolen from Richard Siken. (I'm not worthy, again.)

When Crake offers him the joint, Jimmy takes it. When Jimmy takes a look at it, he isn’t surprised to notice that the weed’s quality is much higher than what he’s used to. Weed is already hard enough to find, but you can’t really expect to find the good kind at an arts academy. It’s most definitely an advantage of being a genius, being able to find and afford such good recreational drugs, but Jimmy has come to terms with the fact that he doesn’t belong to that category a long time ago.

“How much did you pay for this?” Jimmy asks. Crake barely shrugs.

“There’s a reason I have just one,” Crake replies, taking out a lighter and handing it to Jimmy. “You can have the first drag.”

Oh. So they’re sharing. Cool – Jimmy doesn’t do that often, and mostly with girls as a sort of foreplay, but it’s happened and hey, if Crake is nice enough to wait for him to break the weed out, he won’t say no. He lights the weed, hands the lighter back to Crake, then brings it to his mouth and takes a long drag.

It’s pretty fucking good stuff – as soon as Jimmy exhales he already feels himself relaxing, just a bit. He hands the joint back to Crake, who takes a couple of seconds to observe it before placing his lips just where Jimmy’s were five seconds ago. He looks concentrated, focused – well, Jimmy figures as his own focus threatens to start slipping away – there’s a reason Crake is where he is and Jimmy enjoys life at Martha Graham’s. Jimmy can’t help staring at Crake’s eyes as Crake hands the joint back – so green.

“We really are full of faults,” Crake says while Jimmy brings the joint to his lips. He wonders if it will taste of Crake – inconsequential, as he really wouldn’t know either way.

“What’s the reason now?” Jimmy asks. He should be scared by all the new wrong things Crake lists about humans each time they talk.

“Why do we even need drugs? They’re useless and they mostly harm rather than do good, and not only they’re still a plague, but there’s no sign that people might stop taking them soon.”

“Crake, everyone wants to forget shit once in a while, you know? And if you mean strictly weed, then I don’t think you should even ask yourself the question. It feels good. Simple as that.”

“It’s not the only thing that can make any given person feel good,” Crake says, waving his hand and letting Jimmy have two drags in a row.

“That’s true, but it still doesn’t change the result. Also, like this? It has more uses.”

“Does it?”

It’s probably because the weed’s already getting to his brain (Jimmy will understand years later that when Crake took care to enhance his own humans so that drugs wouldn’t have effects on their brain chemistry, he was thinking about this specific moment), but Jimmy’s have his own brand of fun with joints enough times. And to be entirely honest, it thrills him that for once he might have the upper hand – it’s sad that it’s about joints, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“Sure. Move closer,” Jimmy says, and then brings the joint to his lips again, takes a long, deep drag, moves his head so that his and Crake’s head are at the same level and he places his lips over Crake’s. Slowly. Without pushing. And as soon as he feels Crake just barely opening his mouth, Jimmy exhales into it, always slow, making sure that it lasts at least five second. He leans a bit back then, seeing Crake’s eyes widen just slightly for a second or two as breathes, shallow, before expiring. Crake’s lips had felt nice – thin but soft, and his skin was warm; Jimmy won’t push his luck here, even if damn, right now kissing Crake for real seems like a good idea.

“That’s usually the start,” Jimmy says then.

“Interesting,” Crake says, sounding like he’s a million miles away and not in the same room with Jimmy.

“Could you do it again?” Crake asks, his voice sounding more in control right now. Jimmy figures that his time with the upper hand is over – though he does have more experience, at least.

He nods, brings the half-smoked joint up, inhales and takes a drag slowly, his lips closing around the joint’s base, and then when Crake moves forward, his lips already parted, Jimmy pushes all in. He feels bold enough to turn it into a real kiss as he moves away – his lips stay against Crake’s for a second, caressing them just a bit.

“Interesting,” Crake says again, then turns towards his computer. “I need five minutes. You can finish that, if you want.”

Jimmy should feel offended. In retrospective, he will blame himself for not having realized what was going on. But right now his head feels light and his perception positively hazy, and it’s really good weed, so why not? He leans back on Crake’s soft bed and smokes the entire joint, and Crake’s typing is just a background noise.

End.
 
 
feeling: okayokay