It was stupidly early o'clock as I fumbled around outside of my front door, looking for my keys. I'd decided to go home early and leave Alex and all the others at the party, something I was kind of regretting considering Alex would probably have to come home alone, and knowing him anywhere near alcohol, drunk. I found them in my back pocket of my "flashy" jeans from the American Apparel goodie bag and silently kicked myself for not looking there before taking my jacket off to look deeper in the pockets outside in the Antarctic conditions.
I stood in the kitchen filled with silence apart from the bubbling kettle, almost ready to use to make the godly beverage that is tea, when Alex stumbled into the house, alone as I'd expected. I was going to have to inspect him for bruises and cuts where he might have fallen over, like the last few times.
"Heeeyyyy, charlieberrrg" he said loudly, and I smiled at the nickname.
"Hey Alex, can I trust you to be able to sip some tea without spilling it all over yourself?" I asked. "Whaaa?" he replied, and with a confused look on his face.
I chuckled, assumed that was a no, and continued with my tea making business. He flopped onto the sofa, one leg hanging off and one falling over the top with his arms lying lazily next to his sides. He groaned.
"Who ever's hammering, make them stop Charlie, it's bloody sore!".
I felt quite sorry for him. If he had a headache coming on already then he was in for one hell of a hangover in the morning.
It was too late at night and too early in the morning to play video games or for there to be anything good on TV so I sat on the opposite sofa to Alex's, ate a digestive and drank my tea in my "Troy and Abed in the morning" mug, definitely my favourite one, happy and content, however whilst Alex appeared to be in pain. I put the biscuit and the mug on the arm of the seat and crouched down next to him. His eyes were scrunched up and he was moaning loudly. I took has hand in mines and made him sit up so I could properly examine him for anything physical that could be hurting him, though he would probably have told me already if there was. Still, he was really drunk and found it quite difficult to talk so there was a chance. He had a humongously massive dark mark on his right arm which probably stung quite a bit. I got up again and attempted to put his other arm over my shoulders so I could bring him upstairs to his room. He slumped off of the sofa and attempted to stand up, but nearly fell to the floor. Looked like I'd be carrying him then.
I'd been asleep for about an hour when Alex knocked on my bedroom door.
"Come in!" I shouted sleepily, my eyes still shut.
He crept inside.
"Charlie, do….do you….do you mind if I stay with you tonight? Ple-Please?"
He was crying and he sounded like I do when I cry, when it's hard to breathe and there's a lump the size of Jupiter inside your throat. I opened my eyes wide after rubbing the sleep out of them, but I still couldn't see him properly because it was pitch black inside of my room. Only his silhouette was visible and it was still holding on to the door.
"Of course you can, come 'ere!" I replied sympathetically.
I flung the duvet off of his side when I sat up and I placed a pillow for him too. He shut the door behind him and got in beside me.
"Tha-Thank you" he said to me, and tried to lie down.
"It's no bother mate, none at all. Do you want to tell me what's wrong, or can it wait until the morning if you don't fancy it?".
He gulped and took a breath.
"C-Can it wait?" he asked.
"Of course." I replied.
He lay down properly, still sobbing quietly into the pillow and it felt rubbish, because there was nothing I could do or say to comfort him.
It was only then I remembered that I wasn't wearing a shirt, only pajama bottoms, and it was then that I realized, that Alex usually slept either naked or in his boxers (NOT because I'm a massive best friend stalker or anything, Alex is extremely open in his videos about what he goes to bed in!). I don't exactly know why this didn't bother me, I just knew that it didn't.
I reached out my hand, in search of his, and when I found it I clasped it.
"SHHH, Alex, SHHHH. Everything is fine, I'm here, you're okay, and everything is fine".
He stopped making any noise with his crying, but tears still fell from clenched shut eyes. He moved closer to me and kind of surprised me by laying his head on my bare chest and wrapping his arms around me. I put one of my arms around his back too and stroked his head full of unmanageable hair, nuzzling into it, like he was a giant teddy bear.
"I'm sorry" he whispered.
"You've got no reason to be" I whispered.
He gave out a quiet whimper.
"Char-Charlieberg, I-I freaking love you".
I held him tighter before saying in a trembling voice (because I could also sense the water works were coming)
"I love you to Alex. I love you to, and you better believe it".
He took his arms out from under my back and put one around my shoulders. With his hand he ran it across my chest, whilst still lying on it, and found mines on his head. He brought them down to my side, holding mines tightly. I squeezed back.
This moment was magical, and I really, really hoped he was at least a little bit more sober than he was when he came home, and would still remember this in the morning, where he would wake up next to me in a close embrace.