Shawn Mendes Imagines/Blurbs/Oneshots

Hungover | Shawn Mendes | Tour Blurb

Summary: Shawn has too much to drink with the guys one night and you help him through it the next morning. [tour blurb] [fluff] [established relationship]

Word Count: 1k

Sunrise illuminates the back bedroom of the bus, not enough to have been what woke you up but enough to bathe everything in a warm yellow and orange light. You're stiff, body curled against the wall and you stretch out. It wasn't like you to sleep so balled up. Your arm reaches out and you bump a body beside you. You twist yourself and see Shawn's back facing you.

"Oh," you mutter softly and turn over to face him. He's shirtless, bare back covered in little pale freckles. It wasn't like him to crawl into bed with you without waking you first. You know something must be wrong or he was a little drunk when he went to sleep. The two of you frequently shared a bed, but he always checked if you were up for sleeping together first.

The bus is still on the road, you can tell by the shadows of power poles passing rapidly every few seconds and the way it shakes a bit as bumps and holes in the road are hit. You remember when you first started touring with Shawn, how hard it was to sleep or even ride on the bus without getting sick or just laying sleepless for hours. You got used to it, obviously.

"Shawn?" You whisper softly, running your hand up his back. He stirs, a soft snort indicating his consciousness. "You're in my bed."

"No, my bed," he mumbles.

"No, its mine." You work your fingers into his hair and scratch gently at the base of his neck. "Did you, Brian and Connor have too much to drink last night?"

He's silent. You think he's fallen asleep but then he rolls over to face you. He still says nothing and just lays there staring at you.

"Hungover?"

"Yeah." He whispers hoarsely and you rub his chest. "I was stupid."

"Stupid huh?" You slide your hand up to his throat and massage gently, making him close his eyes and go slack jawed. "What'd you drink?"

"Whiskey."

"Whiskey and?"

"Tequila."

You hum softly and he winces at your disappointment. He knows he shouldn't drink hard liquor on tour, not with shows every other night. Hell, he didn't even actually allow it on the bus, but Brian and Connor are little shits. The alcohol fucks with his voice, makes him sluggish and not feel a hundred percent. There isn't enough recovery time between shows for him to have more than a light beer or two. You're more surprised than disappointed. He's always so health conscious and careful with his body on tour. "You know better."

"I do." He says and you pull your hand away from his throat. "I was feeling anxious after the last show and the guys were having a few drinks and I got carried away."

"Shawn." He opens his eyes to look at you. "Drinking doesn't help the anxiety."

"I know."

"It makes it worse and then you feel terrible the next day. Why didn't you talk to me?"

"You were asleep." He closes his eyes again and he just looks so disappointed in himself. "Don't yell at me please."

"When have I ever yelled at you?" You push some curls off his forehead. "Hmm?"

"Never."

"Exactly." You get up and crawl over him. "I've got an idea. Do you want orange or fruit punch to drink?"

"What?" He asks, rolling over to look at you where you're standing by the door to the main room of the bus.

"Orange or fruit punch?"

"I don't understand."

"Pedialyte. It's supposed to be help hangovers, remember? We've got two bottles in the fridge from last time Brian got wasted at the arena in LA."

"Oh. Orange please."

You go out into the main room and head for the kitchen area. Connor is passed out on the couch as you pass by. You grab a cup and dig into the back of the fridge for the Pedialyte. There's just enough orange left for a full glass. You grab a few migraine relief caplets from the medicine cabinet and head back to the bedroom.

Shawn is sprawled out, arm over his head as he stares out the window at the sunrise. He looks soft, golden and glowing in the morning light. Even hungover he is cute. How unfair.

"Sit up." You sink on to the side of the bed and hand him his medicine and drink.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." You lean over and dig through your backpack on the floor while he drinks. You pull out your makeup bag and take out your travel pack of facial wipes. "Lean forward."

Shawn sets his cup on the stand beside the bed and leans toward you. You pull out a wipe and wipe down his face. It's incredibly oily and he closes his eyes as you clean him up. "You don't have to do this," he mumbles as you wipe at the creases of his nose.

"I know."

"You spoil me."

"No, I care about you." You take your pot of lip creme from your bag put it in his hand. "Use some of this too. I'm going to make you some juice for breakfast and maybe later we can stop for some actual food. Just go back to sleep for a few minutes."

Shawn wraps his arms around you, pulling you in against him and you run your hand over his hair. "Thank you." He presses his face into your neck. "I promise I'll make it up to you."

"You don't have to do that."

"I do." He sighs and you kiss the side of his head. "I gotta give you back just as much loving."

"You do Shawn. It's okay to let someone take care of you sometimes. You don't have to do everything on your own."

"I know. I'm just not used to having someone. It's been a long time." He pulls back and kisses your nose. "I adore you."

"I adore you too."

End

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Thank you for reading :)

-A

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