This was a bad idea. The sober, rational part of Matt's mind knew what a bad idea this was. The problem was that the sober, rational part of Matt's mind was being overpowered by the relaxed and pleasurable haze of the drunken, nonsensical part at the moment and he couldn't really bring himself to care what a bad idea it was.
"Truth", he told Foggy firmly from where his head lay in his friend's lap, purring as Foggy continued to stroke him just underneath his shirt where his pants met his skin.
"Yeah?" Foggy asked. "For real?"
"Yeah," Matt said. "Truth, Foggy."
Foggy just grunted in response, and Matt didn't know if the game had been forgotten. The stroking continued so Matt knew his friend hadn't passed out. Eventually, a soft mumbled question emerged. "Do you ever wish you could see?"
"Of course," Matt told him. "You would if you were me, wouldn't you?"
"Yeah," Foggy said. "I'd be sad all the time, I think. Are you sad all the time, Matt?"
"Not all the time," said Matt. "I miss it, though. Colors. People's smiles. Special effects in movies. I've heard they're a lot better now."
"So much better," Foggy said. "Oh, man. You're missing out. That sucks!" The outrage in Foggy's voice on his behalf amused Matt.
"It's not so bad though," Matt said. "It has it's advantages."
"Huh?" Foggy asked. "Like what?"
"Like this right now. I like the way your hands feel right now. They're are so soft. Why are your hands so soft?" Matt asked. "And you smell nice. Like cheap beer and wet wool from your hat being worn in the rain and that apple shampoo you like that makes your hair all silky." He turned his head and inhaled deeply, rubbing his nose into Foggy's sweater. "Nobody else smells it. It belongs to me."
Foggy looked down at him fondly and moved his other hand to stroke Matt's head. "It's my turn," he said seriously.
Matt just hummed in response.
"Ask me, dummy," Foggy said.
"Ask you what?" Matt asked, confused.
"Truth or dare?" Foggy told him.
"Oh!" Matt said, reaching both of his arms up around Foggy's neck to pull himself up and get himself into a more vertical position where he was less in danger of falling asleep. He hadn't thought it through, and it resulted in him straddling Foggy's lap with his face buried in his neck. "Truth or dare?" he finally asked Foggy.
"Dare," Foggy said.
"Hmmmm..." Matt said, thoughtfully. Foggy's hair fell into his mouth when he opened it, letting him taste it and getting it wet with his drool.
Foggy laughed and it shook both of them. "Are you going to dare me to do something or what?" he asked.
"I'm thinking," Matt said, pulling back to try to give Foggy a view of his face so that he knew he was serious. "Okay," Matt finally said. "I dare you to smell me and tell me what I smell like."
"That's a weird one, dude," Foggy said.
"You've gotta do it. I told you the truth," Matt said.
Matt could sense Foggy grin and suddenly he was being pressed into the floor with Foggy's weight on top of him as Foggy rested his head in the crook of Matt's neck and took a deep breath.
"Well?" Matt said. "I'm curious. I can't really smell myself because I'm used to it."
"You smell good," Foggy said.
"Just good?" Matt asked.
Matt felt Foggy nod into his shoulder. "Like..." Foggy said, thinking. "Like sweat from working out, and the same beer I probably smell like. And I don't know... like you, I guess. I don't know how to describe it."
"Try harder," Matt said.
"Well," Foggy said. "Maybe I could pinpoint it for you more if I could taste it." And suddenly Foggy's mouth was on his, his own lips parting so that Foggy's tongue could slide past his teeth in exploration while Matt pulled Foggy's scratchy wool hat off his head, casting it aside to tug on the long, soft hair underneath.
Finally, they pulled apart.
"Well?" Matt asked, breathless.
"Truth?" Foggy asked.
"I thought it was supposed to be my turn?" Matt asked. Foggy laughed again, the sound ringing in Matt's ears.
"You smell like you belong to me, too," Foggy finally said. "And I dare you to let me kiss you again."