Haze

With barely a warning knock, Thomas waltzed into Mihael's bedroom. He paused for a moment when he saw that his brother wasn't there, then proceeded to flop down on the bed and twirl the small plastic bag he held between his fingers.

Several minutes later Mihael walked in with a glass of water in his hand, barefoot and already in his lacy pajamas, and flicked on the light. He gasped and staggered back a step when he caught sight of his older brother lounging on his recently-made bed. Mihael frowned and crossed his arms. "Thomas get out of my room."

"Make me," Thomas replied with a smirk.

Although he could have summoned the strength to throw Thomas out through sheer force of will, Mihael decided that a full-on brawl with his brother was probably unnecessary. He sighed and placed one hand on his hip, the other curling into a fist at his side. "What do you want?"

Thomas leapt off the bed and dangled the plastic bag in front of Mihael's nose. Inside was a small amount of what appeared to be crushed leaves. "I want you to try this with me."

Mihael didn't miss the hint of malice in his brother's voice. His eyebrows furrowed as he examined the contents of the plastic bag. "Why are you keeping tea leaves like this?" he asked suspiciously. "If there wasn't something wrong with them...why are you snickering?"

Thomas's smirk widened. "They're not tea leaves stupid. I can't imagine they'd taste very good if we boiled them either."

"Then what do you mean by asking me to 'try them', big brother?" Mihael was starting to regret not having the heart to throw Thomas out on his face.

From his pocket Thomas produced a small glass pipe and a lighter.

Mihael's expression hardened. "No."

"Why not?" Thomas goaded, putting on his most pathetic pout. "It's not bad for you. I'll do it first if you don't trust me."

"Thomas get out of my room," repeated Mihael.

Thomas plopped onto the floor and began filling the bowl of the pipe with the leaves. He managed to light them and breathe in a lungful of the smoke before his brother got around to setting his glass of water on the dresser, bending over, and wrapping his hands around the boots on Thomas's feet. Thomas leaned forward and breathed a cloud of smoke into Mihael's face. He chuckled as the boy coughed and waved it away. He offered the pipe to his brother. "Just finish this bowl with me and I'll leave willingly," he said.

Mihael wrinkled his nose in disgust. The smoke had smelled awful enough; as Thomas had said, he couldn't imagine it tasted very good. Still, it would be much easier than dragging his brother out the door... Mihael's hand hovered for a moment over the stem of the pipe as he tried to make up his mind.

"Just so you know, if you dump it or break my pipe, I'll break you."

The comment hardly fazed Mihael, but he knew from both his own experience and that of others that the warning was not to be taken lightly. With a defeated sigh, he took the pipe from Thomas's hand and raised it to his lips. He scrunched his eyes closed and took in a deep breath. Odd, it hadn't tasted so different from air.

"Here, stupid, you're doing it wrong." Thomas rose to his knees and rearranged Mihael's hand on the pipe, closing the boy's right index finger over the small hole on the side of the pipe. He then lit the smoldering embers in the bowl. "Now breathe until the leaves glow, then let your finger off so you get the smoke."

Mihael breathed in too hard. He coughed, his mouth burning and his throat tightening.

Thomas patted his brother's back and received a withering glare for the sentiment. "It's not my fault you sucked on it like a bottle." He took the pipe from Mihael and took another hit, enjoying the searing heat of the smoke on its way into his lungs. He held his breath for a moment to absorb as much of the THC as possible before breathing out a fine stream of cool smoke into the air. Thomas handed the pipe and his lighter back to Mihael. "Don't take so much this time. You'll cough it all out again."

Mihael stared dubiously at the lighter in his palm. He refused to admit to Thomas that he had no idea how to use it. It couldn't be that hard, and the sooner he figured it out, the sooner he could finish the disgusting bowl of burning leaves and get his brother out of his bedroom. He rolled his thumb across the metal circle; of course it couldn't be as easy to turn as Thomas had made it appear. He pressed down harder and got a spark, but no flame. He felt his face begin to burn with embarrassment.

It took an enormous amount of effort on Thomas's part to keep from laughing at Mihael's trouble. Naturally he hadn't expected for his straight and narrow - well, perhaps not all that straight but certainly narrow, Thomas thought - little brother to know how to operate a lighter, but he was thoroughly enjoying the show of Mihael's increasing frustration, not to mention the heavy blush now blanketing his cheeks. It was kind of cute, if he allowed himself to admit it. In the way that babies or puppies could be cute, Thomas amended quickly, as though a transcript of his thoughts was being broadcast to whomever wished to see them. "You have to press the button down too, stupid."

"Stop calling me stupid!" Mihael flicked the lighter again, heeding Thomas's advice. A flame leapt up, startling him so much that he dropped the lighter. He glared at his brother when the older boy burst into a fit of laughter. "It surprised me!"

"Well what were you expecting?" Thomas managed to choke out.

Without a word, Mihael snatched the lighter off the floor and lit the pipe. He took a long draw, hating how the smoke burned on its way into his lungs, sucking it in until he thought he might pop like an overfull balloon. The more he could take at a time, the less time he would have to listen to Thomas laughing at him. Mihael felt the unpleasant itch to cough scorching up his throat. He held off for as long as he could, until the smoke forced its way spluttering back into the air. Mihael's eyes began to water as his coughing continued.

Thomas jumped up and grabbed the glass of water that was sitting on Mihael's dresser. He handed it to his brother and watched as the boy gulped it down to calm his coughing fit. Thomas figured that once they were done he should probably go fill it back up. He picked up the pipe and smoked a couple of hits while Mihael recovered.

Despite having drunk the entire glass of water, Mihael's mouth was starting to feel very dry, almost as though his tongue were made of cotton. His eyes hurt a little too, and his thoughts blurred at the edges. He blinked a few times, trying to bring the room back into focus, but it only made him dizzy.

Thomas noticed that Mihael was already getting disoriented. He smirked and muttered, "Lightweight," under his breath. He felt the edges of his lips pulling upward, and fought against it. It wouldn't do to allow his brother to see a stupid grin plastered across his face. And for the love of card games, he was already smirking.

Mihael willed his arm to take the pipe from Thomas. He focused on getting it lit far more than perhaps he should have, and breathed in the smoke again, taking care not to inhale as much as last time. Mihael couldn't tell if the smoke was cooler or if he just didn't notice it as much this time. He looked up at Thomas when he didn't immediately take the pipe. A wide grin was slowly spreading across his lips and he was staring at Mihael with a somewhat dreamy expression. "Big brother?"

Thomas shook his head and took the pipe. He had never noticed before just how green Mihael's eyes were. They were clear and sparkled when the light hit them just right. Even tinged a little red from smoking, they were stunning. Speaking aesthetically, of course.

"What's wrong with your eyes?" Mihael asked, concentrating hard on pronouncing each word. "They're red."

Thomas pulled the pipe out from between his lips and blew out a stream of smoke. "My eyes are always red, stupid."

Against his will, a giggle popped out of Mihael's lips. He forced his face into a scowl. "Stop it!" Before he could even finish the sentence, he was grinning and giggling. He couldn't figure out what he found so funny. "The whites of your eyes..."

Thomas coated his tongue in saliva, cursing the cottonmouth he had gotten. It made speaking more difficult than he would have liked. "Yours are red too." He laughed when Mihael went cross-eyed attempting to look, and took another hit, burning his thumb trying getting the shrinking embers lit; the bowl was about cashed. He handed the pipe to his brother and leaned back on his elbows. He hadn't realized how much he missed spending time with Mihael, the way they had as kids. He wondered if his little brother felt the same.

Mihael dropped the lighter the moment the flame touched his thumb and instead sucked hard to get a final glow out of the ashes in the pipe. He passed it back to his brother, his arm heavy and difficult to control. The room seemed to be rocking slightly, although maybe it was he who was rocking. Through the hazy smoke clouding his thoughts, Mihael noticed that Thomas was staring again. He blinked slowly, wondering what was going through his older brother's mind. "Big brother, is something wrong?"

One corner of Thomas's lips rose above the other as he pushed himself into an upright sitting position. He reached out and ran a finger across Mihael's bottom eyelid. "Your eyes are green..."

"Yes?" Mihael responded, confused.

"You know I love you?" Thomas grabbed the lacy collar of Mihael's nightshirt and pulled him closer. He wrapped his arms around his brother, trapping the boy's arms, and rested his chin on Mihael's shoulder.

This was how Thomas had apologized for his incessant teasing when they had been kids, although then it had always been at the order of their father or Chris. Mihael pressed his face against his brother's neck. "Love you too big brother."

Thomas released the hug and took Mihael's face in his hands. He wondered seriously if his brother tasted as green as his eyes. And so, using all of the logic his intoxicated mind could produce, he pressed his lips against Mihael's.

Mihael stiffened at the kiss. What was Thomas thinking? Maybe that was what he was trying to communicate. Mihael made no move to protest; at this point his mind was too foggy to comprehend exactly what was wrong with his brother's actions and his limbs would not have cooperated anyway.

As he pulled away, Thomas licked his lips. No, not green. Pink, maybe, like the jacket that he wore. But Mihael was not green.

For what seemed like a long time they sat there in silence, Thomas still holding firmly onto Mihael's face, their minds gradually clearing. And in an instant they both fell back, their faces colored crimson as they realized what had just happened.

"Ge-get out of my room, Thomas!" Mihael demanded. "And take whatever this stuff is with you!"

Thomas shoved the plastic bag, lighter, and pipe back into his pocket, disregarding that the ashes would spill and make a mess. He paused at the door and turned back to pick up the empty glass from the floor. "I'll fill this back up for you."

"I can do it myself. OUT."

"Fine!" Thomas slammed the glass down on his brother's dresser before stalking out of the room, covering his mouth with his hand, feeling the heat of his face seep into his fingers. What had made him do that? He hadn't been that high...had he? Although that was a safe explanation. He'd taken six good hits. Yes, that had to have been it. He ducked into his room, thankful that neither Chris nor his father were roaming the halls.

Mihael picked up his glass and left his room for the kitchen, hoping desperately that he didn't run into anybody on his way there or back. Why hadn't he protested when Thomas had kissed him? It must have been the fault of whatever they'd smoked. That was the only acceptable explanation, Mihael thought as he filled his glass at the sink. He turned to go back to his room, but halted in his tracks when his stomach rumbled. Funny, he'd had a large dinner. Shrugging, he picked up an apple and returned to his room.

I'm not even sorry. Reviews are always appreciated! :D