Get Outta Your Head

Get Into Your Heart

Notes: Part 2 of Get Outta Your Head for you my lovelies,
Again, I hope you enjoy it -
I very much enjoyed writing this one
~ A X

"Come on then, you." Gary urges as he closes the front door behind the two of you, his hand still firmly planted on your elbow as he guides you into the hallway.

"You can let go of me now." You half grumble, attempting to jerk your arm away from your friend with feeble determination. "I can walk."

"Walk my arse." Gary scoffs, steering you towards the stairs with easy strength. "We've walked 20 minutes down the road and in that time you've managed to fall over your own feet six times, topple head first into at least two hedges - not to mention that lamppost that you nearly knocked yourself on so, you'll forgive me if I don't believe you just yet."

Your mojito riddled mind lacks the will to seek out a response and, so instead, you grapple onto Gary's t-shirt as the steps before you blur into one long, carpeted ramp.

He's openly laughing at you by the time you make it onto the landing, but when you stand and waver on your feet a little more, his amusement soon vanishes.

"Don't you dare throw up." He glares at you, body suddenly radiating ridged tension. "We're not twenty two any more, I'm not bathing you if you're sick."

"Fuck off." You swing your arm in a manner that vaguely resembles a punch, but in your current state it's your fist that comes off worse when it makes pathetic contact with Gary's collar bone. "I seem to remember it being the other way round. And no. Actually -" You make a move towards his bedroom, the room with the soft colours and super-king sized bed that you'd helped him choose when he'd first moved in. "-no I'm not going to be sick."

"What the fuck are you doing in here?" Gary is hot on your tail as you step over the threshold onto the carpet so luxurious that you nearly loose your ankles in its pile. As soon as you make it into the middle of the room however, the reason for the fleeting embarrassment in his tone becomes apparent.

"Really?!" In your drunken state, you can't seem to stifle the exasperated grin that breaks over your face as you bend forward and retrieve the lacy, red thong that lies discarded, blatantly and unembarrassed, against the cream carpet.

Gary's answering smile is sheepish as he shrugs his shoulders, moving towards you to take the garment from you fingers. "What can I say?" There's a teasing tone to his voice as his eyes glitter when he stuffs the item of incrimination into his back pocket. "My date was more successful than yours."

"Clearly." Your eyebrows raise towards the back of Gary's head when he turns to his chest of drawers, rooting through the freshly washed linen until he finds what he's after. "Was she good?"

"Sensational." Comes the gruff response, and you perch on the end of the lavishly made bed, nearly sinking into the depth of the duvet, as you await your make-do pyjamas. "Here." He turns lazily, a pair of tracksuit bottoms draped over his left arm as he tosses a plain black t-shirt towards you. "You can wear this. Do you need anything else? You know where it all is anyway, right?"

You nod, holding the t-shirt against you for size. It's more than big enough. "This is fine. I'm going to go and grab myself some water."

Gary nods, leaning forward gently to kiss your forehead. "Alright trouble, I'm going to shower. You can sleep across the hall - don't worry about getting up early in the morning, I don't have anywhere to be."

You smile back, your wine-mojito cocktail suddenly hitting you with such a force you could collapse right here and now and sleep for a week and so, although you think you say goodnight as Gary kicks off his shoes and heads for the bathroom, you're not entirely sure.