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Chapter 18: Just think about it.
"How many boyfriends?"
"You're joking right," he says and leans down to kiss me.
I just let him, because I don't think I want to know how many boyfriends he's talking about. It'd just make me jealous.
"Where the hell are my shoes? Ant? Did you take my shoes?"
"What the fuck would I do with your shoes?"
"Mum! Ant's taken my shoes!"
"Ant, give Jennie back her shoes!"
"I've not taken her bloody shoes! Fucking hell!"
I wake up to the sound of Alex's family shouting about shoes. Alex, on the other hand, is still sleeping, in a somewhat weird position; on his back with one of his arms stretched up above his head and the other holding me. I'm not sure how the hell it's even possible to sleep through what is obviously a chaotic situation going on outside the room, but he does. I turn towards him and from my place, nestled on his arm, I look up at his closed eyes and slightly parted mouth. My hand on his chest follows his steady breathing.
I glance over at the alarm clock on the bedside table. I know he set it for nine last night. It's 08:54 now. I figure I might as well wake him six minutes early.
No response at all. I put my hand firmer to his chest and kind of shake him a bit whilst repeating his name.
"Yeeees..." he drawls, without even opening his eyes, and turns towards me, wrapping both arms around me.
"It's time to get up," I mumble and stroke him gently over his back, then scratching a little along his spine as if he was a dog or something.
"I didn't hear the alarm clock," he purrs and starts kissing my neck.
"It's not going off until nine; it's five to nine now," I explain.
"Ah, so it's not time to--"
"I swear to God, Ant! If you don't find my shoes I'll bleeding kill you!"
"Have you tried asking Paul where your fucking shoes are? He might've borrowed them when he wanted to look pretty!"
"What the fuck is going on," Alex says against my collar bone.
"Uhm... I think your sister's lost her shoes... And she seems to be under the impression that your brother has stolen them."
He's half on top of me now, kissing my shoulder and neck. I'm putting my arms around him, revelling in how soft and warm his skin feels. I love him like this. Warm, lazy and randy, semi-asleep and cuddly. He wraps his arms hard around me and spins us around so that he's on his back and I'm on top of him. I'm leaning down to kiss his neck when suddenly the door is thrown open and Jennie walks in, holding up the skirt of her wedding dress, exposing her naked feet.
"Have either of you guys seen my shoes?!?"
I roll off Alex as quickly as I can and pull the duvet up to my chin with a little panicked yelp.
"Jesus, Jennie! Do you fucking mind," Alex growls at her.
"Have you seen my shoes or not," she insists, clearly completely unfazed both by the scene she walked in on and Alex's outburst.
"No! I've not seen your fucking shoes, now get out!"
Her bottom lip starts quivering at this, and she walks out, slamming the door behind her. Alex quickly gets up and locks it before getting back into bed and snuggling up with me.
"I thought you locked the door last night," I say accusingly.
"Yeah, well, I did. But I went to the loo in the middle of the night and I guess I forgot about it when I got back. Doesn't matter, she's out, and now it's definitely locked."
He plants a kiss on my forehead, but really, the mood is gone. At least as far as I'm concerned.
"Time to get up," I say and gently push him away.
"Mhm... Later..." he mumbles, completely uninterested in what I've got to say.
"Alex," I say with what I imagine is a stern voice. He looks up at me.
"Fine," he sighs and throws the duvet aside and gets out of bed. "But shower with me?"
"Will you behave?"
"Probably not." He flashes me a grin and wraps a towel around his waist.
"Ok," I say, before getting out of bed. Wrapping the other towel around me, I follow him to the bathroom.
"I'm telling you, baby, this is the best caff in London."
He gestures towards what looks like such a dump I'm not even sure I'd allow my dog to eat in there. If I had a dog.
"Have you actually been to every caff in London... Baby?" I ask and look into his glittering brown eyes.
"Of course I have. What do you think of me?"
"I think you're a liar, and I think you brought me here for my slow and painful death."
"Oh, shut it. Just try it. You won't regret it, I promise."
I know him now. He's never going to give up on this. It just seems somewhat absurd. I mean, we're both dressed in suits, neatly combed, immaculately shaved and shoes shining, you know the score. And we're about to walk into this utter dump and have breakfast with the trashiest people I've ever seen.
Alex doesn't seem to mind in the least as he leads the way into the place. The little bell above the door announces our arrival, but no one seems to care, so I wonder why the bell is there at all.
There are only about seven or so other people in here. Most of them don't even look up when we walk in. Only an old guy sitting alone by a corner table looks up and asks us if it's the mafia who've come for their lunch.
Alex laughs and starts rubbing his chin, making a very poor impersonation of Don Corleone. I reckon he probably enjoys threatening people, even when it's just tongue-in-cheek.
The old man laughs and goes back to his tea and paper.
Alex and I sit down by a table, and I'm getting more and more certain that I'm going to die in here. It looks dirty, there's just no way that I'll be able to eat anything cooked in here without getting poisoned. I mean, the table top looks like it was once white but twenty years of grime has turned it an unappetising greyish colour.
Alex looks frighteningly in love with the place, and I struggle to see why. It's like the whole establishment, including its clientele, is covered in layer upon layer of dirt. As Alex puts his fags and lighter on the table, grabs the Sun and for some inexplicable reason turns straight to page three, I begin to imagine how colourful this place might become if someone just scrubbed it clean. I'm not a neatfreak or anything, I'm just saying.
After a couple of minutes a young guy walks up to us, cap on his head and a greasy apron around his waist. He looks terribly bored, verging on sulky, but lights up when he spots my boyfriend.
"Back in town, eh, Alex?"
"Just for the wedding, mate."
"Ah, yeah, of course. Ant said she's a bit nervous, huh?"
"Don't talk about it. She thought Ant had stolen her shoes this morning," Alex laughs. I'm beginning to wonder whether he actually knows everyone in the whole of London.
"Yeah, he would as well," the guy says and giggles.
"Yeah, probably... Anyways. Get us some cheese omelettes and chips, will you?"
"Coming right up."
And honestly, whether I'm getting poisoned or not, this cheese omelette is gorgeous.
Alex finishes his meal in no time at all, and lights a cigarette, waiting for me to finish mine. He leans back in the uncomfortable plastic sofa, looking quite impeccable. He's gathered as much of his hair as possible into a ponytail, and despite what he normally wears, he looks perfectly at ease in that suit. And thanks to that tattooed bird on his hand he manages to look pretty much his usual self, only, obviously, smarter.
"Good, huh? Told you you'd like it. Hurry up now though. We're due in church in..." He looks at his wrist watch. "Ten minutes."
"Ten minutes?!? We're going to be late."
"Don't worry, baby."
We get up. Alex shouts "Oi, Kev, money's on the table", and then we're out of there. Alex's car is parked just outside, and as we head over to it, he sort of scoops me into his arms, hugging me to him tightly and mutters some little declaration of love against my neck.
I don't say anything; I just bring his mouth up to mine to kiss. He knows I love him, I don't think I have to say it.
It doesn't take him long to get us to a church somewhere in the green belt. It's in a nice little foresty area; looks kind of rural around here despite the fact that we're only a couple of minutes outside the city.
There are serious loads of people milling about outside the church, some walking in, some smoking and talking. I get kind of nervous, but then again, I always seem to get nervous.
Alex parks the car and we get out. For a few moments, I just stand there, looking at all the dressed-up people, breathing and trying to calm down.
"It's alright, baby. You'll survive. I promise," Alex says and takes my hand.
A few people look up when we cross the garden outside the church building, in the sunshine, Alex walking slightly in front of me, holding my hand. No one seems to mind though. The only reaction we get, or well, the only reaction Alex gets are the people that light up and greet him, a couple of them asking if I'm his new boyfriend, and then getting introduced to me.
Getting into the church, we sit at the front row, next to Alex's immediate family. I mean, I suppose it's a bit egoistic to think that anyone would pay any attention to us when it's Jennie and Paul getting married, and soon my nervousness wears off. It's a bloody wedding, for Christ sake. A day of happiness. For the first time in ages, I feel myself relax.
"Aw... That was beautiful... My only sister getting married, eh? And to such a tosser, as well," Alex says as we get into his car to drive to the reception.
"He doesn't seem that bad," I try and reach out with my hand to put on Alex's thigh. He immediately grabs it and brings it up to his mouth, kissing my knuckles, before he puts it back.
"He's boring though. Jennie's not used to that. I'll give them a year, two, at most."
"You're fucking awful! They must've lived together for a while before this, surely?"
"Only a few months. She doesn't know him well enough yet."
I look at him as he pulls the rubber band from his hair and shakes his head to let his hair fall naturally messy around his head.
"Don't you believe in love at first sight," I ask.
"Sure I do," he says; "I'm just not convinced love at first sight will last. Especially not if it's with someone as fundamentally boring as Paul."
"Yeah, but something must've drawn her to him when they first met, right? Maybe she doesn't think he's boring."
"She'll get bored eventually, take my word for it."
"Do you apply this amazing logic to your own relationships?"
"You worried, baby?"
"Well, you're not exactly making yourself look, you know... Like someone one would want to get involved with."
"Oh, drama queen." He sticks his tongue out at me. "Jamie, fucking hell! This is Paul we're talking about. He wears socks with his sandals! He doesn't own a t-shirt, only fucking button-downs, I know, I've asked Jennie."
"So you'll leave me if I start wearing socks with my sandals?"
"Do you actually own a pair of sandals?"
"No, but I might want to buy some in the future," I say with a pout.
"It makes me happy that you think about a future with me, baby," he says and smiles at me. "Don't worry about it, ok? If I thought you were boring I'd never be with you in the first place. And even if you do buy sandals... I suppose we'll have to cross that bridge when we get to it. Just don't wear socks with them, and I'll be yours forever. Ok, baby?"
"Ok," I laugh.
"And now here we are. Time to have a bloody nice three course dinner and drink ourselves stupid."
For the duration of the dinner, I get to sit next to Alex. He spends most of it pointing out people, telling me their names and how their either related to him, or how they know Jennie, or if they're Paul's guests. Once the dinner is over, we all move to a huge ball room. Alex asks me if I want to dance, but I decline and before I know it, he's gone.
I spot him on the dance floor, dancing with every girl in the bloody place. Some of them I recognise as Jennie's mates, from yesterday, but the rest of them, I have no idea who they are.
I soon get enough and sit down by a table, drinking beer and watching Alex slow-dancing with some brunette. Suddenly I'm interrupted by Ant who drunkenly slumps down on a chair next to me. He really looks so much like Alex they could easily have been twins.
"Alright there, Jamie?"
"Fine," I mutter and glare towards Alex.
Ant follows my gaze and smiles vaguely when he notices what's got me in such a sour mood.
"Don't worry about him," he says and pats my shoulder.
"I know what you're thinking, but don't worry about Alex, yeah? He's as gay as they come, believe me."
"Yeah? Well, why does he keep dancing with all these girls then?" I'm too drunk to try and put a hold on my jealousy, and so what if I talk to Ant about it. It's quite refreshing to be able to share my jealousy with someone.
"Two reasons. For one thing, he's a competitive fucker, and you don't want to know how much he enjoys knowing how many girls he could've had if he were interested. But he's not, mate, I promise you. Between you and me, I don't think he's ever been with a girl in his life. And secondly, because he likes dancing. I don't know why you're not dancing with him, but if you would, I'm sure he'd be much happier."
"Yeah... I'm not really much of a dancer though, that's the problem."
Ant laughs. It sounds kind of like Alex's laugh, only slightly less hoarse. I suppose Ant doesn't smoke as much as Alex does, or something.
"I'm with you on that one. I'm not as jealous as you are though, so it's not much of a problem for me."
"You're right." I put my emptied glass on the table and get up. "Excuse me."
I walk up to Alex and the brunette, and tap her gently on her shoulder. She stops dancing and looks at me, confused.
"Sorry to interrupt, but may I take over," I ask. And get this, right? I'm not even embarrassed about it.
She makes some sort of half-arsed move towards me, probably thinking I wanted to dance with her, but Alex neatly slides in between us, and puts his arms around my waist. I put my arms around his neck and lean forward to kiss him.
"What's gotten into you, baby," he mumbles and smiles.
"Had a little chat with your brother."
"Huh. I wasn't expecting that answer. What were you talking about?"
"Oh, nothing... He just said that I shouldn't be jealous of your dancing with all these girls, because you'd probably rather dance with me anyway."
"Aw... And ain't that the truth."
"He also said he thought you'd never been with a girl in your life," I giggle.
He says something under his breath that I don't catch. I think I hear the f-word though. Sore point, this, obviously.
"So it's true, huh? I thought he was taking the piss," I say and smile at him.
"God... Yeah, it's true, alright? I've never felt the urge to, I suppose."
I don't know why this makes me laugh, but it does.
"Yeah? Oh, bloody stop it. How many straight guys do you think have fucked other guys just to confirm their heterosexuality?"
"Not that many, probably."
"Exactly. And I've never had to fuck a girl to know that I don't want to. Ok?"
I put his soft, ash blonde hair behind his ear and lean in to kiss him again.
We wake up in time for lunch. Someone is cooking something downstairs and it smells like a dream. I'm wondering whether I will have to wake Alex up again, but when I turn to look at him, it turns out he's already awake, and is busy sending a text message.
"Who are you texting?"
"Don't tell me you're jealous again," he smiles and continues what he's doing.
"Is possessive better?"
"Slightly. Still something we will have to work on though."
"Fine. Whatever. Just tell me who you're texting now."
What the fucking hell?
"Aw, baby..." He puts his mobile on the bedside table and turns towards me, planting kisses all over my neck. "He's just asking how we're doing and inviting us to his birthday bash next weekend. And yes, that's us, as in you and me. He specifically mentioned you actually."
He sits up in the bed and looks bothered.
"Sorry," I mumble. I don't know why I get like this around him.
I sit up behind him and attach myself to his back. I let my hands play over his taut stomach. I'm addicted to his stomach. He's got the sexiest stomach in the universe.
I can feel him relax under my touch and leans his head back against my shoulder.
"Honestly, Jamie... You need to drop this obsession with Danny. He's no competition. Don't you trust me or something?"
He doesn't sound angry though. He sounds like he's trying to make a proper assessment of our relationship. It's hard to really listen to what he's saying when his hair tickles my shoulder and chest and I've got an uninterrupted view of his body from the neck down.
"Yeah, I do... I'm just... It's different to be with someone you really care about, you know?"
"Yeah, I know. Don't you think I'm worried you'll go off with someone else? I just don't take it out on other people though."
"Fine. Yeah. You're right. I know that."
"Good. Now let's get up and have some lunch, breakfast, whatever and then we'll get going and we'll be home just in time to snuggle up in my bed for the rest of the day and watch fishing programs. Well, the Arsenal v. United game. And then fishing programs."
"Sure." I release my grip of him and he gets up and starts gathering his possessions. I suppose all the stuff in this room are his possessions, but he gathers clothes and the like and puts it in a bag before he pulls on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.
"Ok, bye, mum, I'll phone you as soon as we get back, ok?" Alex gives his mum a hug as we're saying our goodbyes in the driveway outside his parents' house.
"Good boy. Oh, and Alex..." She nods not-so-discreetly towards me. "He's a keeper."
Alex laughs and gives her another, short, hug. "Yeah, I know."
"Bye," I say and shake hands with her. "And thanks for your hospitality," I add awkwardly and let her pull me in for a hug as well.
We get into Alex's car and drive away. He puts on some music and sings happily along to it, but stops it when I turn the music down slightly as I feel my mobile phone vibrating in my pocket.
"Who is it," Alex asks, but keeps his eyes firmly on the road.
"Jealous?" I snicker.
I pull the mobile out of my pocket. It's A.D.
"Yeah, hi, Jamie..."
Something's wrong, I can tell.
"A.D., what's up?"
Alex looks at me for a second and then back at the road.
"Yeah, uhm... So I met Sophie last night. She, uhm, I mean, I suppose she's only angry at you, right?"
"What are you talking about," I ask, despite knowing perfectly well what he's talking about.
"She, uhm..." He clears his throat; "she told me you're with some guy now?"
"Uh, yeah..." For an eternity-long moment I let my eyes wander over the man next to me. His torn jeans, his white t-shirt, the blonde hairs on his arms, and the tattooed hand on the wheel. Alex looks back at me and gives me a smile. He continues to smile as he turns to the road again.
"Yeah, I'm with Alex now. Alexander," I continue.
Alex's hand moves from the wheel to my thigh. I grab it and intertwine our fingers.
"Uh, right... I mean, are you... Gay?"
Despite being really annoyed with him, I smile.
"Yeah, A.D. I'm gay."
Alex's hand squeezes around mine.
"How can you be gay, Jamie? What about Sophie?"
"I suppose I didn't quite realise until I met Alex."
"Are you absolutely sure about this? I mean, I know someone you might like? You remember Rebecca? She's in my class. She was at the party as well? She's always game, if you know what I mean."
"Yeah, I remember her. She came on to my boyfriend. I think he's still got her number, so I could probably just get it from him if I decide I'm not gay anymore."
Alex giggles and lets go of my hand to change gear.
"You know, Jamie... It's... I mean, it's not for me to make judgement or anything, but--"
"You're right, A.D. It's not for you to make judgement. If it's so fucking hard for you to accept this, then don't even bother trying. Just give it a long hard think why it is you're feeling so threatened by it, and if you decide that friendship is worth more than fucking stupidity, then give me a ring and I might consider going for a beer with you or something. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go suck off my boyfriend."
I click off the phone and put it back in my pocket.
"You know, I'll probably crash the car if you attempt sucking me now," Alex laughs.
"I'm not going to. Right now. Just wanted to freak him a bit."
"He's a dick. Don't worry about him."
"You know what's funny?"
And it's true, you know. I don't worry in the least about what A.D. - or anyone else for that matter - might think of me and my being with Alex. I mean, after all - who am I to fight the universe's plan, right?
Alex turns around and starts walking towards the door. It was a mistake coming here. He's got better things to do than to listen to some guy complaining about his girlfriend and how he had to leave... Shay, or something like that, or else he'd burn in hell. He's got one hand on the handle when he hears Jamie order another double whiskey. Fucking tosser, he should learn his limits. Jesus... He can't just leave him here. He'll drink himself to death. Or they'll throw him out, and he'll get beaten up, or... Wait, why does he even care what happens?
He lets go of the handle and looks at the sad figure at the bar. The guy would look like a complete thug if it wasn't for the smooth skin and the hair. He's cute. Big, brown eyes, pretty mouth with full red lips. There's still something boyish about his lean body. He's not exactly short, although not as tall as Alex is. And that bruised nose? He looks like he's been beaten up before.
Fucking hell, I'm going to regret this, Alex thinks as he walks back to Jamie.
"Alright, come on. I'll take you home," he says and cancels Jamie's whiskey order.
"I don't want to go home," Jamie whines.
"I'll take you back to my place. Ok?"
"Oh. Right. Yeah, sure."
"Good. Now help me out, will you. Put your arm around my shoulders. That's right. Ok, let's walk now."
Alex has to help him into his car. He buckles Jamie's seatbelt and walks around to the other side and climbs in.
"Alright, Jamie, I'm warning you now. If you're sick in my car, I will cut your balls off. If you feel like you're going to be sick, you let me know, alright, and I'll pull over."
"Fine..." Jamie drifts off and leans his forehead against the window.
Alex drives as quickly as he can back to his place, hoping he won't be pulled over for speeding on the way.
He manages to get them back to his building without getting caught speeding. Jamie has pretty much fallen asleep by now and it takes Alex all the strength he has to bring him into the flat.
"Alright, Jamie, fuck sake, could you at least try to stand up on your own?"
Alex manages to bring Jamie to his room, and is just about to help him to the sofa when he notices Jamie is looking like he's about to vomit any second.
"Fucking hell, to the toilet, Jamie, I'm fucking warning you..."
"I'm not feeling too--"
Jamie doesn't even finish the sentence before he leans slightly forward and empties the contents of his stomach on Alex's rug on the floor.
Alex submits to the fact that he's not going to help things if he tries to bring Jamie to the toilet now. He just holds him up, brushing the hair from his face, as he heaves a couple of times. When he's done, Alex inspects the damage he's caused. Alex's own clothes are alright, and thankfully, so is his sofa and most of his stuff. Jamie's clothes are a different story altogether though. The rug is fucked. The floor is a sad sight.
"Alright, Jamie, I'm going to have to undress you. Ok?"
"Don't sound so bloody happy about it, it's a nasty job, you fucker. It's not like you could do it yourself though, is it?"
"Yeah, thought so."
Alex unbuttons Jamie's shirt and pulls the soiled garment off him. He throws it to the side and starts on the jeans.
"I'm just going to remove the stuff in your pockets, mate. Don't worry; I'm not going to molest you."
"I don't mind."
Eventually, Alex manages to get Jamie's jeans off, and puts them with the soiled shirt.
"Alright, Jamie, I'll get you to bed now, ok?"
Alex puts Jamie's arm over his shoulders and drags him along to his bed. He helps him to get in, and puts the duvet over him.
"Get in with me?"
"I'm sorry?" Alex looks at him with a raised eyebrow.
"You know... Sleep with me?"
"You're drunk, Jamie."
"So I'm not going to sleep with you."
When the hell did he grow up? Something's off about this night. The guy's bloody asking him to get into bed with him, and he's refusing because the guy's too drunk? There's no logic to it. Why did his brain chose tonight of all nights to suddenly change a lifetime of bad habits?
"Good night, Jamie."
Alex turns to the disgusting mess on the floor, picking up the clothes, putting them in a plastic bag to be able to bring them to the washing machine in his bathroom without it dripping on the floors. He gags as he puts the disgusting items in the machine. He should've left the idiot in the bar; it's not his problem if he wanted to drink himself to death.
As he tries to clean his floors, he's considering his choices this evening. How is it at all possible to make bad choices and bad choices only throughout an entire night? It started when he met up with Danny. Danny had asked him to pick him up after work, and Alex had been there early, had a drink and chatted with the staff, and then he had taken Danny home. Danny had invited him up for another drink, and even though they did drink together quite often, he should've recognised the weird atmosphere. It was just like when they had last slept together.
They'd started kissing in the lift, and maybe if Danny hadn't got a bit overly friendly, he would've left things there. But Seb was visiting relatives in Coventry or something similarly stupid and if your friend from back home sticks his hand down your trousers, what can you do? It was still a bad a choice though, because sleeping with Danny meant he would get possessive for weeks.
Next bad choice was agreeing to meet Jamie in the pub. What the hell did he expect him to do? Well, when he got that phone call, he was probably hoping that Jamie would do exactly what Jamie did do, that is want to sleep with him. Yet Alex turned him down.
He gives a heavy sigh as he mops the floor for the umpteenth time, worried that there will still be germs or something hidden between the floor boards. He's just about to put the mop away when he hears Jamie start retching again.
Alex drops the mop and runs over to the bed to try and get Jamie to vomit on the floor instead of on the bedding. He doesn't make it though, and when he sees the mess he realises he's going to have to change both bedding and Jamie's underwear. Fucking great.
"God, you fucking wanker," he mutters as he removes the duvet cover and pillowcase. "You think you could please get out of bed whilst I change the sheets?"
Jamie doesn't say anything, but obediently tries to stand up. Alex helps him to his feet, but as it turns out, Jamie can't stand up on his own. Alex tries to support him whilst quickly pulling off the sheet, then he lets Jamie fall back to the bed.
"How is it even possible for you to be conscious? Alright, Jamie, don't freak, but I'm getting your underwear off, ok? I'll give you some of mine, so don't worry."
Alex goes to fetch a pair of boxers and a vest. Jamie lies indecently sprawled on his back on the bed, but his eyes are open so he's clearly still conscious.
"Fuck... Look, can you take off your pants?"
"Ok... What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to put some of my underwear on you and then wash yours."
"Is that all?"
"Yeah, that's all."
Jamie attempts to hook his fingers in the lining of his boxers, but he's not coordinated enough to do it. After having watched him fail a couple of times, Alex gets bored and grabs hold of Jamie's underwear and pulls them down quickly. He throws them towards the pile of dirty sheets and wipes off a bit of vomit on Jamie's belly. He then grabs the clean underwear and helps Jamie to get them on.
"Come on, Alex, get in?"
"Look, Jamie, if you still feel the same way tomorrow when you're sober, I'll be more than happy to fuck you senseless. But not tonight. You're way too drunk," Alex sighs and tucks him in.
Jamie doesn't answer, he's fallen asleep. Alex moves the second set of dirty laundry to the bathroom.
Then he makes himself a cup of tea and sits down in the sofa, smoking and watching Jamie sleep in his bed; he wants to make sure he's not going to be sick in his sleep and suffocate. The guy is fucked up, no doubt about it.
Alex nearly jumps as his mobile phone starts ringing. He gets it out of his pocket. It's Seb.
"Hey babe," he answers.
"Fine. Guess what I'm doing?"
"You'd think so, huh? I'm sitting in my sofa, watching that guy who crashed into my car a couple of days ago sleeping."
Seb laughs. "Your hand's not good enough for you, is that what you're saying?"
"I've not fucked him. I could've, but he's just way too pissed. I'm not into necrophilia."
"What's the matter? He's not cute enough or something?"
"Oh, he's cute alright. Painfully cute, actually. I don't know what's up with me."
"You'll sort it out. Listen, I just wanted to see what you were up to. I'm going to sleep now."
"Yeah, me too. Just... Look, he's not been sick for an hour, you think it's safe to let him sleep without observation? I don't want him drowning in his own vomit or something."
"Bloody hell, Alex? Something is definitely up with you. Yeah, I think he'll be fine. You get some sleep, honey. I'll see you on Monday, ok?"
Alex walks over to Jamie, who's sleeping like a baby. Then he goes to the bathroom, getting Jamie's clothes out of the machine and hangs them on the shower curtain rail. He brings the rug to the front room, opens a window and hangs it there. Then he loads the washing machine again, brushes his teeth and puts on a pair of pyjama trousers. Grabbing a blanket, he goes to the sofa and tries to make himself as comfortable as he can.
He's hoping that when Jamie wakes up tomorrow, he'll remember enough of tonight not to get funny about it.
And then they're both asleep.
A/N: The end. I don't know... Is the third person account of what happened that first night completely cheesy or what? Thing is, since I had a pretty clear idea of what happened, I wanted to post it, as I figured it might put some of Alex's actions in perspective. Plus, it makes the story circle-shaped. Haha. Back at chapter one again. Anyways, I'm not happy about this story from chapter 16 onwards. I might go back and change it when I've got a minute to spare.
If you're at all interested in what I'm up to at the mo, then go check out my profile.