Dylan licked his upper lip briefly and then leaned in to Henri's chest, his arm slipping around the drug's waist for support. His eyes fluttered shut and then squeezed tightly as he let the vaguely salty liquid spread over his tongue and down his throat. He drank as much as Henri offered and then closed his lips in a soft smile. He immediately recognized this high as different. It was instant, for one thing, and complete, and he didn't feel the prickling in his fingers and toes and the middle of his forehead that sometimes accompanied his highs. He sunk against Henri with a sigh, his head lolling forward. The numb came first, and he was happy to have it.
After a few moments of blessed darkness, his eyes opened slowly and he raised his head to look Henri in his face. It was a sight unlike any he had ever seen before, the face of the chemical in his blood, his body, his- "God." He said adoringly, "My god." He flung his arm around Henri's neck and burrowed his forehead into the crook of his neck. Everything about the moment was perfect; the dim light, the skin, the- his skin wasn't itching.