|
[30 May 2012|10:31pm] |
Who: Donaghan and Merton (and Kirley!)
What: MDMA. aka, ecstasy.
Where: Merton's room
When: Tuesday night
Rating: Not touching this one yet, but shouldn't exceed a light R
Warning: Drug use
Status: In progress
Merton had chosen the best rug in the tent. He'd looked at all of them, and he'd loved this one. He'd loved it instantly and passionately. It was superior to all other rugs. It was soft and plush without having too much give or trying to swallow his toes, and the colours were soothing, and he liked tracing the circles, the way he was doing right now with his finger from where he was sprawled on the floor, testing the softness of the rug against his cheek. He didn't know why he hadn't thought of trying this before. He should sleep down here. Naked. Then he could feel the rug everywhere.
He had explained all of this to Donaghan, with a lengthy digression on swallowing toes and how weird and awful that would be, and was now blissfully rubbing his cheek against the pile, vaguely attempting to determine whether it felt better in one direction than another. One was smoother, but going against the weave was tinglier. Scrunching his toes into the rug was possibly even better than both. He'd lost his socks at some point, when the tent had suddenly become thirty-eight degrees, why didn't they have cooling charms? Why hadn't Merton used cooling charms? Why was he still not using cooling charms? ...Did he know any cooling charms?
Donaghan was noodling on his guitar, which was lovely and soothing and Merton kind of wanted to dance to it, with just his toes in the carpet. (Was it dancing with just your feet? Were your feet the only thing that had to be dancing in order to technically qualify?) The music was amazing; Merton didn't know what Donaghan was playing, but he needed to play it for Merton all the time. It was awfully quiet, though. Merton wondered if that was on purpose. Oh, or maybe Donaghan didn't know he didn't have to be so quiet. Merton would like it if the music were louder. A lot louder. Then he could feel the reverberations, like lying on an amplifier. Fuck, he really wanted to go lie on an amplifier. Or a speaker. A whole speaker stack. He wondered if Lee would let him borrow one for the night to sleep on. Maybe he could sleep half-on it, and half on his fantastic rug.
"You don't have to be so quiet," Merton said suddenly, remembering the goal of the amplification and original subject of his musing. "You can play louder. Kirley and I soundproofed my room so I could be loud." And so Kirley could be loud, when they played together, but that was never, to-date, at six in the morning when Merton needed to be worried about being quiet, and anyway, "I'm way louder than he is." He was a bit smug about that, yes. Kirley needed an amplifier. All Merton needed were some decent acoustics.
|
|