Drunk & Disorderly
By Lick Le Peri
Summary: What do you do when your neighbours’ 18 year-old, in a state of compliant drunkenness and terrified of his parents’ wrath, is dumped by his friends on your doorstep one night? Could you resist? I couldn’t.
Now, my name isn’t Edwards, but David’s is so I realised at once that they thought I was his father and that this was David’s apartment. But before I was able to correct them and protest, they turned on their heels and disappeared down the stairs. Meanwhile, David had slumped at my feet in a heap!
As quickly as I could, I pushed him into the bathroom, where we both fell on the floor in front of the lavatory. Instantly, he retched and threw-up into the toilet; well, all over it actually! God, what a mess! And the smell was enough to make me want to vomit too! But I managed to keep hold of him, kneeling upright in front of the toilet, with his head half down the pan, retching his whole insides up and moaning in-between.
He groaned and lay there, muttering “Oh God, I’m sorry. I feel terrible.”
I needed to clean up in the bathroom, so I grabbed a towel and put it under his dribbling face and put a bowl beside the bed, while I went off to tidy up the mess. When I came back into the bedroom with a glass of water for him to drink, he had shuffled forwards on the top of the bed, because his legs were no longer sticking out over the edge, as I had left him. He was still laying face down, head to one side and mouth open, but now he was snoring gently. The top part of me melted at the sight of him there, while the bit near the middle part of me immediately went rock-hard again! “Well,” I sighed to myself, “someone has to do this.” And I proceeded to take his shoes and socks off! His bare feet were soft and unblemished and his toes were like those of a boy, all beautifully formed and hardly walked-on – unlike mine!
Shaken from my reverie and realizing he was awake again, I replied, “I might – if you don’t behave yourself.”
He was drowsy and seemed only half with-it but he muttered, “Don’t let me stop you.”
I roused him with two paracetamol and another glass of water and he blearily came to, looking at me and then around the room. “Where am I?” he asked.
“You’re in my bedroom and you’re on my bed,” I replied, “and you need to get up and go home. You were somewhat the worse for your celebrating last night and I had to wash your shirt and trousers. They’re in the bathroom.”
He just looked at me. He was so sweet and seemed quite unaware of what had happened the previous night.
He just kept saying, “Thank you” and “I’m really sorry” and then “Please, please don’t say anything to my parents.”
I just shrugged and, as I let him out the front door, freshly washed, pressed and smart again, I said “Of course I won’t. Look, I know how stressed you’ve been lately, what with your exams and your Dad ‘n all, but if you ever want to just talk anytime, you know where to find me.”
He smiled, looked directly into my eyes (that always does it!) and said “Thanks, I will.”
Wednesday, 11 June 2008
Drunk and Disorderly
Courtesy of NM Sleepers: