"No," he exhales in a harsh breath, something akin to a mirthless, ungraceful laugh. "No, the fuck it isn't." The rapid pitter-patter of his heartbeat is physically paining him, but when those arms cinch his middle, he's certain his eardrums will burst with how loud everything's become in that moment. He squeezes him back, breathes a quivering sigh and inclines his head once they've pulled apart.

His immediate thought is to start squirming, too-- rather than do so though, he stretches out, gingerly clasps one of his younger self's hands, reaching to withdraw a pre-rolled joint from the pocket of his vest with the other. "Wanna smoke? Probably about time I pay you back anyhow."