Luke woke up, absent mindedly adjusting his boxers and straightening the sheets that had crumpled around his body during the night. As his mind cleared from whatever dreams he had had the night, he started to feel a need in his chest, he wanted to smoke.
"Fuck", he said groggily to himself, opening his eyes and squinting against the morning light. His room had subtly shifted back during his sleep. He remembered going to bed, a little drunk, shirtless and just in boxers - very unlike him. As he lay down, he remembered his room covered in posters of bands he knew he knew, but now couldn't remember, smelling of cigarettes, and his clothes - a leather jacket, torn jeans and a black tee - left wherever it was easiest to pickup later. He remembered that feeling so right, but now the posters were gone and his clothes were more tidily placed on a dresser. "Fuck" he said again, not noticing his changing vocabulary.
With a start he realised he wasn't the only one going through strange shit, and bolted up and called for Matt. With no reply he pushed open his door and checked out the living room.
"Matt, man, are you..." he said in surprise. The guy was in the foetal position sleeping on his coffee table, surrounded by his empties. He saw grey ash marks on his chin and around his mouth, as the former object started to wake.
Matt coughed a few dry coughs, then gulped something hard in his mouth. He winced a little, eyes just opening to the morning, but Luke noticed his dick chub a little at the same time.
"Hey. How are you... uh... feeling?" Luke asked as Matt pulled himself upright.
"I think I'm ok. What happened?"
"I think you went full Ashtray. Ceramic and all. Whatever is happening is really fucked, I'm sorry man."
Matt was rubbing the back of his neck as Luke explained his version of the previous night. "And something's up with my neck, can you take a look? Is that something to do with all of this?".
Luke approached, seeing black ceramic merged with Matt's flesh. It was slowly changing back to the the colour of his skin and softening. After a few moments it was back to normal.
"Yeah, that's... that's the last of you being... yeah. How do you feel. How was last night?", Luke asked.
"I remember being content, horny, euphoric at times, just really good. Luke, I'm really worried. I like it. Or I liked it. I don't know. I don't want to lose my life".
"As we saw yesterday, this shit only happens if I smoke. God I fucking want a smoke now. Shit.", Luke started fidgeting as his new addiction burned inside.
"You have to hold on, please. Don't smoke. Maybe if we're far enough away from each other, that will solve it?".
Luke stared in annoyance as he spoke. How the fuck does he have the right to tell him when he can smoke or not. He's been smoking for years. But then in a snap he shook his head and realised how his thoughts were getting away from him. He was just stressed. Maybe is he had a smoke that would calm him enough to think.
As Matt's sat thinking through his options, Luke headed to a side table and opened up the box he keeps his cigs in. He put one to his lips and grabbed the lighter, turned to Matt and said "Actually the distance might work. It's worth a try at least?". As he spoke the cig dangled and bumped in his mouth. Matt was stuck watching in disbelief and confusion, a feeling of euphoria battling that of fear. Fear overtook though, and he jumped at Luke, batting it from his mouth.
"Oi fucker, what are you....", Luke stopped himself and looked at the lighter in his hands, dropping it in shock. Neither of the two of them had noticed the yellow marks that had started to shift into the walls, the band posters, the other changes to the apartment that had appeared while Luke had had the cigarette in his mouth.
"I gotta go, I have to get out of here. Did you even notice? Do you really think you can stop yourself? God I just want that taste again. I don't even know if I can stop myself.", said Matt, edging towards the door, picking up his clothes from where they were left on the couch. He put his shorts on, and opened the door to leave.
"Good luck", was all that Matt said, but with a genuine nod and a look towards Luke. For Luke, he felt like he was losing something, but he was trying to hold himself back. He watched Matt go, and decided that he needed to get out, to walk and exercise. He wouldn't take any money or cigarettes, and he would beat this.
But as he stepped back into his bedroom, Luke was already becoming distracted. The room started to shift, and he didn't notice. He wiped a bit of dust off his newest band poster and picked up his leather jacket. He slipped it over his tee, adjusted his belt and jeans, and slipped on some worn sneakers. Then he stopped. He looked around. Something was wrong. He looked down to see his cigs, visible in his leather jacket pocket, so that wasn't it. "Fuck it, I'll work it out later". He put one to his mouth, lit, and took a deep drag. "Fuck, that's good, why'd I wait so long?".
He left his room, smoke trailing through the hallways. You weren't supposed to smoke in your rooms or the common areas, but fuck it.
A few streets away, Matt suddenly itched the back of his neck.