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Be warned - this involves alcohol (drunken behavior). That said, happy reading! Also, I apologize for any grammar or spelling errors.
"Hey baby. I'm home," you hear him announce to you.
It sounds really slurred, like he's drunk.
"Hey sweetie," you answer, "how was hanging out with the guys?"
"Great," he answers. You hear him fiddling in the entrance way.
You make your way over there, wondering what he's up to. He's leaning against the table, trying to get his shoes off with little success. It seems he is baffled by his shoelaces. You hold in a giggle and just watch him for a few seconds.
Giving in, you laugh quietly to yourself. You walk over to him and stand in front of him. He gives the most heart-stopping grin. "Hey darlin'," he greets you, framing his hands on your face and giving you a kiss. It would have been a romantic kiss, but he really was drunk. It ended up being a rather silly kiss. You break away from him, laughing. "Oh sweetie, you are adorable," you tell him.
He gives an affronted look. "I'm not adorable. I'm manly," he emphasizes. He tries to strike a manly pose, but nearly falls over, if you hadn't caught him around the waist. You get him to lean on you, as you guide him to the nearest chair. Setting him in the chair, you ask him, "How did you get home?"
"Designated Desmond," he explains.
"Oh good," you respond, relieved, taking off his shoes and socks. You debate whether to get him into shower before putting him into bed, but you decide against it, in case he falls asleep mid shower.
"How much did you have to drink?" you inquire.
He contemplates, looking deep in thought. "Don't remember."
You leave him sitting in the chair and grab some medicine and a glass of water. Seeing how intoxicated he was, you dump the medicine in the water and hand it to him, saying, "Drink."
He drinks and hands you back the glass. Taking it, you place it on the counter.
Turning back to him, you start to unbutton his shirt. He grins laviciously at you. "Well, if you wanted to have some fun, darlin', you just had to say so."
You roll your eyes at him. He tries to help you discard his shirt, but really he just looks like a helpless penguin trying to fly. Finally managing to discard his button up, you haul him up.
His face lands in your hair and he takes an exaggerated whiff of your hair. "Your hair always smells so pretty. How do you do that?" he slurs.
"Magic," you tell him.
"Really? You have to show me how."
You snort in laughter, shaking your head. "C'mon sweetie, let's get you to bed."
