"At least you look pretty nice with long hair, dude." You're still trying to recover from your coughing fit, but your head jerks up in confusion. What is Jared talking about? Surely you aren't that high yet. You feel hot, you must be blushing. "Wh-," you begin, coughing, "-what?" But Jared is already occupied with his next toke. He hands the blunt back to you, positioning your thumb and forefinger around it. Maybe you're reading into nothing. Marijuana is supposed to make you paranoid after all. You're feeling a little lethargic suddenly. Jared holds your hand to your face loosely, cupping your wrist with his open hand. You inhale a little, then drop your hand to your thigh. It takes you a second to notice Jared's hand lingering on top of yours. Your throat is tickling again but you manage to produce weak sound. "Water?"
It feels like you're sitting there for a long time, maybe hours. You feel like you're falling into the music. Sinking into the soft couch, deeper and deeper. Through the floor. Whoa. This stuff is hitting you HARD. Your neighbor is suddenly shaking you by the shoulder. He hands you a disposable plastic cup, half-full of clear liquid. You gulp down the water. It's room temperature but it feels refreshing and cold on your throat. "Where did you go?" Jared looks confused. "Uhm, the kitchen? I wasn't even gone a minute, like..." He laughs a little. "You're high as fuck my dude," he appraises. He sits down again next to you, continuing to puff. "So how did this happen...." He looks at you hopefully for an answer. "Maybe some kind of science thing?" You sound completely stupid but Jared doesn't seem to notice. "Possible..." He butts out the joint right onto the nearby glass tabletop. "I can't think about this shit right now. You're too fucking hot. It's like, just distracting." His sweatpants are tented again.
Jared puts his wiry arm around you and goes in for a kiss, roughly. You don't stop him. Okay, this feels pretty goddamn amazing, you have to admit. You might have chosen differently if you were a little more sober, but this feels good. Very good. Your kiss goes in slow motion, his lips rolling around yours before wetly snapping back like elastic. It feels very very hot in here. You feel sweat roll down your neck and forehead. The air is thick, humid. Too hot. You lift up your t-shirt halfway and lie across the couch. Jared stands up. Your tall, lean, neighbor pulls your shirt off the rest of the way, and strips himself down to his boxers. Then he stops. "Maybe this isn't like... a wise decision." But your dick is already hard, and so is his, so you pull him on top of you.
You reach past his sweatpants; he's wearing boxer briefs, and you yank them down with the sweatpants. You clasp your hand around his tool and rock your wrist back and forth. It's bigger than yours by a little, maybe 8 inches? He's circumcised like you are. He's rubbing you absentmindedly through your pants, a little caught up in his own pleasure. "You're gay?" You're surprised you're able to ask this while this tingling pleasure washes over you. "Bi," Jared huffs. You get caught up laughing a bit, it's not like him to give a one-word answer. You think about the halting, drawn-out way he talks and grin. It really is a little funny. He speaks like an extra in a movie about skateboarding or surfing or something. Jared doesn't seem to mind your goofy demeanor. He's smiling down at you enthusiastically. He runs a hand shakily through your long hair and moans. Without warning, Jared's eyes clamp shut and his mouth is a wide "O". He cums. Several thick ropes splatter onto your bare chest. Jared tosses you his tank top and it lands on your face. It smells like his sweat, sharp and muggy. Okay, even through your haze, you know that's kind of gross. And he expects you to clean up with this. You don't really have a choice though, so you do it, then discard the dampened tank top on the floor.
Jared isn't wearing anything except a flip-flop (just one), and is glistening with sweat. He's curling his toes a little on the scuffed hardwood. His large hands are spread loosely on his angular hips. The sunlight catches his moist skin attractively, giving the illusion that his thin waist is a little more toned than it really is. "Fuck yeah, man." You come back to reality a little. You're already regretting this. You're kinda seeing someone right now and you should probably go before you mess up that up completely. Not official yet, but better to be safe than sorry.
"That was hot," you say to the lithe man in front of you, "but I should probably go." Jared looks a little disappointed. "But you didn't, uh, finish. And like, WE... didn't finish. About the hair thing." You nod understandingly. "I'll be back later then, I guess." You're not sure you mean this but you say it anyways. You feel very awkward as pull on your clothes. "Really nice," you add hastily.
You head back to your apartment and plop onto the couch, exhausted and still a little stoned. Your eyes feel heavy... you fall asleep for a few hours. When you wake up, it's dark outside. Your first sober instinct is to get the ring, to put it back on your finger. But your stomach drops a little when you search your pockets. You check again and again in your pants pockets, and finally come to a conclusion: the ring isn't there. And you're sure it must have fallen out at Jared's apartment...