Chapter Text
Lørdag. 09: 07
“What do you want to do today, baby?”
Isak frowns, rolling over to bury his face into the soft pillow beneath his head. Up until that point, he’d still been asleep, Even’s long fingers gently brushing down the curve of his spine, lulling him into a carefree, floating state. There’s something magical about the way Even touches him- Isak swears that there’s some kind of mystical power his boyfriend is hiding. It shouldn’t be normal that every time Even’s skin brushes against his, every electrolyte in his body lights up and starts firing on all cylinders. Even moves his hand away, and Isak feels like he’s going to implode.
His response is to whine.
“Too early.”
“Sorry,” Even lets out a quiet laugh, and resumes his position, fingers brushing around Isak’s neck and continuing their journey down to the small of his back, and up again. “I know you like to sleep more than anything else in the universe.”
“Even. I swear to God, if you don’t shut up talking, I’m leaving you.” Isak mumbles, voice muffled by the blanket as he buries himself into it further. He wasn’t kidding about the too early part. It doesn’t matter how fucking beautiful Even is- nothing is worth getting out of bed before midday on a Saturday.
“Jeez, okay, okay, sorry.” Even laughs again, met with a dull huff the moment he retracts his hand. That huff extends into a groan when Isak feels the bed shift beside him, as Even physically gets out of it, and starts padding around the room.
“No! Don’t leave. Come back to bed and love me.”
“Chill, I’m going to the bathroom. Then I’ll come back to bed and love you. Deal?”
“You suck.”
Even doesn’t miss a beat. “If you’re lucky.” And then, naked, he disappears out of the room.
For a second, Isak remembers another time he’d been so comfortable in bed when Even disappeared, naked. That had been a lot more anxiety-inducing than this, a sleepy, comfortable morning with his boyfriend in their apartment. Their apartment. It still felt so surreal to say out loud, let alone think about. They’d been living together for over a month now, but Isak still wasn’t used to not having Eskild barge in on them without warning, Linn complain that they were having sex too loudly, Noora shouting about everyone eating her food. Living at the Kollektivet had been fucking hell in the sense that he had no privacy, but that didn’t stop Isak from missing the little make-shift family they’d created.
Thankfully, Eskild hadn’t kicked him out of the groupchat. He still reads every message.
“Your prince has returned, and he’s brought gifts.”
“Is the gift silence?” Isak’s eyes are still squeezed shut, but he knows that by this point it’s far too late to try and chase the comfortable sleep he’d been so indulged in. Even with his eyes closed, he can sense his overgrown boyfriend as he makes his way around the bedroom- first over to the window, cracking it open and drawing back the curtains, letting in the morning sun. Then, he makes his way back over to the bed, but doesn’t lie down. Isak finally gives in, rolling over and opening his eyes with the intent to complain as Even slips underneath the sheets but remains sat up- but then he notices just what gifts Even has for him.
Two joints, rolled perfectly. Fuck- Even had even gone to the trouble to label one I and one E.
“I had a little left over from the stash I found in the bottom of my closet when we moved- and before you start whining, yours has way more in it than mine, since I’m not supposed to smoke or whatever.” He rolls his eyes playfully, but Isak can’t even pretend to be annoyed at how constantly thoughtful Even is about everything. If there was a boyfriend of the year competition, hands down, Even would’ve championed it from day one.
Isak lets out a long yawn before sitting up and leaning against Even’s side, taking the joint with the tiny I, and resting it between his lips. This is another thing he likes about having his own fucking apartment. Eskild had lectured him for hours about the neighbours’ complaints the last time he and Even had smoked in bed together. Apparently, little old Mrs Hildd had threatened to call the police.
Up here, in apartment 6B, their only neighbour was a shut in middle-aged French hippie. They’d had a total of one conversation with her on the day they moved in, and the only thing she’d had any time to talk about was her eleven cats and dead ex-husband, George Clooney (apparently, no relation to the George Clooney). Isak doesn’t think they’d be ratted out for smoking weed anytime soon- because she’s clearly on something a whole lot stronger.
“Do you want music?” Even asks, joint already lit between his lips as he hands the lighter (a holographic-mirrored metal clipper that Jonas had bought them as a moving-in gift) over. Isak shakes his head, and after lighting his joint, lays himself against Even’s bare chest, forcing his boyfriend to at least sink down into their bed a little. At least this way he can get baked, and fall back to sleep comfortably. Even won’t mind.
“Nei, nei- it’s cool. I like the quiet.”
It isn’t just because Even is warm and Isak doesn’t want him to get up and find the wireless speaker. One of the main things he genuinely does enjoy about their apartment is the fact that it can be so quiet all the time. When you live with three other people, especially someone as extra as Eskild, there’s always a commotion. Now, with just himself and Even, the only people talking are them. Isak had never gotten sick of Even’s voice before.
He nuzzles into Even’s chest, trying to get closer whilst simultaneously trying to avoid burning his boyfriend with the lit end of the joint. Even’s arm tucks around him and curls at the juncture of his hip, using his thumb to rub small comforting circles into the skin. The steady rise and fall from Even’s chest as he inhales and exhales the smoke is actually quite relaxing too- he feels like a baby being rocked to sleep.
“Here.” Isak feels Even’s body shift slightly as he reaches over to the nightstand and picks up the small ashtray they left there. They don’t smoke like this often- Isak always feels guilty, like he’s obliged to make Even stop but scared of offending him by treating him like his ex. Still, they keep a little ashtray and a lighter and some papers for the odd craving. So far, they’d both been fine. Even hasn’t had an episode since Christmas.
“Thanks baby.”
Anxieties are always going to exist when you’re a fresh-out-the-closet seventeen year old insomniac with an estranged father and mentally ill mother, dating and co-inhabiting with your twenty year old manic-depressive bipolar boyfriend of the year whilst you both still attend high school. Isak’s more than happy to let all those anxieties slip away with every drag. He loves all the stupid imperfections about their relationship. When it’s bad, sure, it can be really awful, and they’ve both been on the receiving end of that. But Isak’s always stuck by his point that he doesn’t mind how bad it gets- because it just makes the good times feel incredible.
This is definitely one of the good times. He and Even stay silent whilst they smoke together, and shit, Even wasn’t kidding about his joint being way stronger. Sure, Even’s eyes are a little red, and every so often he’ll huff out a breathy laugh, but Isak’s entire body feels like it’s floating underwater. Every touch of Even’s thumb at his hip feels like silk dragging across his skin. By the time they’re both done, Isak isn’t tired, but he isn’t awake either. He looks to the little alarm clock on their nightstand, but the numbers blur at the edge and glow an angry red. He thinks it reads 10:25.
“You’re high as shit.” Even laughs at him, and Isak can’t even make his mouth work properly to say words. He feels fucking high as shit- and it probably doesn’t help that they went out to a party the night before, so he’s already got alcohol and God-knows-what-else in his system. Still, even if he could speak, Isak doesn’t know what to say. He’d rather just laugh, as Even lays him down on his back and hovers above him, pressing kisses into his face and his neck and down his chest until the soft giggles turn into quiet, hushed moans and keens; mumbles of more and please and yes.
Neither of them have the energy nor the coherency to actually get inside anyone- but Isak will settle for a lazy rut between the sheets until he’s coming all over them both. Even doesn’t take long to follow, and afterwards, they are finally still.
“We should probably get up and shower.” Isak mumbles, finally feeling the blood start to rush through his body again. As usual, Even’s left him completely boneless. It usually takes him a few seconds to remember how to breathe- let alone talk. It doesn’t help that the weed is enveloping him into a soft, suffocating hug too.
Even is laid flat on his back, but he turns his head so he and Isak can maintain half-lidded eye contact.
“Sure.” He says with a shrug. “Or we could just stay here. Like this. Forever.”
Isak ponders over the proposal.
“Well. We’re pretty gross. And we’ve run out of weed already- and it’s not even midday,” he pauses, making the effort to look like he’s really thinking it over, whilst Even laughs along beside him. “but… I’m so fucking comfortable and still kinda high so I don’t think I’m ever going to be moving again. Thanks for that.”
“Thanks for being so fucking beautiful and enticing then.” Even practically assaults the side of his face with a harsh kiss, and Isak laughs, squirming away from him. The rest of their morning is spent the same way- after a reluctant shared shower that somehow manages to remain PG- the pair climb back into bed and just lay together, talking and laughing quietly until the middle of the afternoon.