Ask if it is safe

“Where DOES he live? Is it a **** house or something? I don’t want to end up the victim of a drive-by or anything.”

Dugan shrugs. “Nah... it’s totally safe. It’s not too far from Here, actually. Come on — you’ll love this shit!”

You are convinced and pull yourself off of Dugan’s sweaty body. You throw on a ripped t-shirt and skimpy jean shorts, and lead Dugan out of your room.

You get to the door just as your brother Aron is coming home. “Good morning, brother mine,” you say, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “You look like shit.”

“Good morning to you, too,” he responds. “And thanks. I’m off to bed. I haven’t slept in close to 48 hours — but what a fucking party!” His eyes go to Dugan, who still has a bit of a glassy look in his eyes.

“This is Dugan,” you say. “We’re going out. Tell Mom I’ll see her when I see her.”

“Mom is still at the party where I was. She’s was rather busy when I left, so you may make it home before she does. I’ve gotta get to bed. Nice meeting you, Dugan.”

Dugan jumps at the sound of his name, and you realize he has nodded off while standing there. You take the car keys out of his hand and say, “Probably I should drive.” He nods, blankly and follows you to his car.

You didn’t pay a lot of attention to Dugan’s car last night. It was dark, and you had your face between his legs for most of the drive. This morning, in full daylight, you see that it is far from clean. There are empty beer cans, Jack Daniels bottles, cigarette butts, roach clips, and empty prescription bottles without labels. Dugan definitely has a substance **** issue, but who are you to judge?

You ask Dugan for directions. He struggles to remember and then utters a few semi-intelligible words. You set out to follow that route, but it isn’t long before you find yourself in an unfamiliar neighborhood.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” you ask Dugan, but all you get in response is a snore. You shake him, without success. Then you reach between his legs and gently squeeze his cock, which is still semi-hard, believe it or not. That has the desired effect. Dugan sits up, and you have his full attention.

“Are you sure this is the right neighborhood?” you ask again. “These houses all look pretty shady to me.”

“This is it!” says Dugan. It’s the blue house right ahead. He points vaguely forward and then slumps back into another round of snoring.

You look in front of the car and see two blue houses — one directly across the street from the other. The one on the right has three cars in the driveway, but there is no sign of activity in the house that you can see from here. The other house has a beat-up van in the driveway, and you can hear some voices from the back yard. You can’t see anything because of a privacy fence, but the smell of charcoal lighter fluid and smoke suggests that someone is getting ready for a BBQ.

You shake Dugan’s shoulder hard, and without saying anything, he gets out of the car, walks to the front of it, and stands there, looking around as if he is seeing it all for the first time.