Why do they call it sour dream??

You wanna to get stoned in my basment?

                          ||Jeremy||
This has been the most eventful week of my life well almost... Me and Christine are finally gotten to the point in our relationship were we are getting getting physical and me and Michael finally beat level 9 of Apocalypse Of The Damned and he really wanted me to come over and "celebrate" which meant he was going to by the best weed he could get from his dealer and wants me to babysit him. After he was done begging like a staving puppy I gave in "fine but you owe me one" I said with a sigh earning a big smile from Michael "wow bro we are going to have the best night of our lives!!, my dealer is giving me a deal on something named Sour Dream my parents are going out of town for the rest of the weekend to soooooooo we have the house to our selves" Michael explained practically jumping up-and-down with joy. The bell finally rang and me and Michael parted and started on our  ways home. I packed my clothes for the night and sat on my bed, oddly enough I usually jerk off before sleeping over someone's house don't take this the wrong way it's just I don't want to wake up with morning wood and end up having to sneak off to their bathroom to quietly deal with it, but I just wasn't in the mood I even tried thinking about Christine but nothing. I grunt with defeat zipping back up my pants and grabbed my bag walking to Michael's house, I knocked on the door only to be met with Faint giggling 'is he already high? Jesus Christ' I thought as I let my self in and stepped softly down the stairs to the basement seeing Michael sprawled out across his packman bean bag with his headphones on and blunt in on hand his eyes slowly shift in my detection as he slides his headphones down his ears and letting them hang comfortably around his neck "Jeremy... you came" he said Softly a small smile tugging at the corners of Michael's lips his small dimples indenting his cheeks. "How could I bring myself to miss out on this" I added sarcastically sitting down on the other beanbag that was next to his. I make my self comfortable and glance over watching Michael take another drag of his blunt and letting the smoke flow out through his mouth and nose before his eyes met with mine, "you've over and watch me smoke more times then I can count but not once have I seen you take a hit" he add his calm but stern and dilated. I always felt weird around high Michael he was different we he smoked he was Calm, observant and intimidating almost like he could read my every thought. "I-I'm good with just watching" I blurt out nervously trying not to make contact with his almost hungry deep brown eyes. I hear him sifting and feel his fingers gently laying against my jawline as he leads my gaze to his, his thumb is placed softly on my bottom lip my mouth opening as he inhales his bunt deeply then bring his face closer my hole body shutters my eyes squeezing shut as he exhales the smoke into my mouth his lips inches away from mine I hear my heart pounding in my chest as I take in his breath with out command. Coughing softly my eye lids fluttered open I could almost feel him smirking.