Fifty Shades of Andley (Re-Write)

Part Four

{Ashley's P.o.V}

Shit!

I grimace as I watch Andy empty his stomach again, fortunately this time in a trashcan and not over my Dr Marten's. After the puking/punching fiasco outside the bar I had escorted Andy off site to where the Range Rover was parked, with my arm around his waist and him leaning heavily on me. I had thought it better to wait outside the car for a few minutes while Andy recovered, rather than risk my leather upholstery. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, Andy stumbles over to me, half walking half falling into my arms; I catch him and cradle his comatose self against my chest. He mumbles something incoherent which roughly resembles an apology as I fish my key out of my pocket, whilst holding him still. By some kind of miracle, I manage to get him into the front seat and strap him in before climbing into the driver's seat myself. The engine purrs to life as I ponder whether or not to take him home. It'd certainly be quicker to take him back to the hotel, considering his apartment was a good hour's drive away and I didn't want to risk the chance of him being sick again, as I didn't particularly welcome the idea of the Rover stinking of vomit. I wrinkled my nose as I exited the parking lot and cruised towards the main road, his clothes were already beginning to smell. My mind made up, I roll my window down and started heading towards the hotel, my only accompaniment being Andy's steady breathing beside me.

It seemed that some omnipresent being was on my side today as I had no troubles getting, a now-snoring Andy, out of my car and into the hotel where we were currently waiting for an elevator. Finally one arrives and a young couple step out, obviously ready for a night about the town, they eye us amusedly as they pass and I'm aware how strange we must look. Quickly I bustle Andy into the elevator and press the button for the top floor, watching as the doors shuttered closed and the contraption rumbled into life. Once safely inside my suite I dump Andy's backpack by the door and carry him straight into the bedroom, where I gently lay him on the bed's comforter, before making quick work of his socks and shoes. Before removing anything else, I pad back into the kitchen and retrieve a bin liner, in which I place the rest of his clothes in, with the exception of his underwear which remains purely for modesty's sake. I tie a knot in the bag and place it beside the door, having already rung down to reception and asked for his clothes to be laundered. Rustling from the bedroom piques my interest and I pad over to see what's happened. Half naked and barely awake, Andy is sat up on the bed, rubbing his eyes and yawning, once finished he pierces me with half-lidded eyes and my nether regions twitch in appreciation. He looks beautifully dishevelled, his partially shuttered eyelids giving him a sultrier, sexier look.

"Ashley," he breathes, fighting to keep his eyes open. "I go sleep now m'kay?"

I cross to his side, peeling the covers back for him and replacing them once he'd gotten himself comfy. Impulsively I kiss his forehead, hearing him mutter in approval, trailing my nose along his hair and exhaling his scent which was returning now his sick-covered clothes had been shed. Slowly I back out of the room, shutting off the light in the process, and retrieve my Macbook which was where I'd left it before setting off to find Andy. Sitting down on the sofa, I pull it onto my lap and start drafting up an email to Webster, one of my PA's.

From: Ashley Purdy

Subject: Clothes for Mr Biersack

Date: August 3rd, 2015 1:23

To: Alexander Webster

Morning,

Can you find Mr Biersack the following clothes;

Size S – Black Sabbath t-shirt

Black slim fitting jeans – estimate size 12/14

And necessities such as socks and underwear.