Jin started doing it more in America, but some of their friends in Japan do it, and it's not hard to find any drug, really, when you're an idol. The time Jin set fire to the food he was cooking for Yamapi taught them that Jin's next door neighbors either can't smell what's going on in his apartment, or won't call the police if they can.

Jin lights the bowl, takes a long hit before he passes it to Yamapi, who gropes blindly for the lighter while he inhales what's left. It's cashed fast, and they find themselves sitting on the kitchen floor, giggling.

"Okay," Jin says, "let's order food."

It's another five minutes before they manage to call the first delivery place in Jin's phone. They order from a few more, and then they have thirty minutes to wait. Jin's grinning, head in Yamapi's lap, fingers pushing up his shirt. Yamapi squirms, ticklish, and kisses Jin to distract him.

Jin leans back, pulling Yamapi on top of him, and they grind against each other leisurely, kissing with mouths open until Jin's doorbell rings. Yamapi pulls money out of Jin's pocket and pays the delivery boy. He has the containers of food open before he makes it back to Jin; there's only one set of utensils, so they eat half with hands, half with chopsticks, feeding each other and falling over moaning with joy at how good the food tastes.