Christopher Bingham
When I woke up, I almost had a panic attack. I opened my eyes and couldn't see anything; there was something heavy weighing me down and a mattress under me. I rolled over and stifled a gasp as I found myself face to face with someone else. I squirmed back as far as I could to get a look at the face that was almost touching mine. I recognized him. It was Christopher fucking Bingham, lying mostly on top of me. It took a moment for my adrenaline die down so I could breathe normally again, but when I could I began to assess my situation. I made a list of facts in my head:
1. I was in bed with Bing.
2. He wasn't wearing a shirt.
3. Or pants.
4. Neither was I.
5. I have literally no idea what happened last night.
"Alie, do we really have to?" I whined at my best friend as she dragged me over to my wardrobe.
She flung the doors open and began rummaging through my assorted t-shirts and hoodies, "hmmm… sexy….. Let's see…" she muttered to herself completely ignoring my pleas.
Eventually she pulled out a tight light blue tank top and my black skirt.
"Come ON already! Get dressed then were going!" she pestered me enthusiastically.
I sighed, knowing I could never convince her. She was so stubborn! But then again, so was I, Which is probably why we've been best friends almost our whole lives. Living with her was beginning to get on my nerves. And we only bought the flat a month ago. Oh well, I suppose there are worse things to put up with than a friend who drags you to crazy house parties.
When I finished getting dressed I looked at myself in the mirror. Congratulations Laurel, you look like a class A stripper, I thought. I put my shoulder length, fire-engine red hair into a ponytail, and then a braid, before just deciding to leave it down. Adding some eyeliner and mascara and a little bit of lipstick, I grabbed my red leather Martha Jones jacket from the doorknob and headed downstairs to join Alie.
"Definitely Sexy!" She decided when I got to the bottom of the stairs.
I couldn't help but smile a little.
"So where are we going again?" I ask her, a little worried.
"Mike invited me to a party! It's at some guy's house." She rambled at about a million miles an hour "Tom I think, yeah, I'm pretty sure it was Tom."
I sighed; there was obviously no convincing her that this was not the smartest idea in the book. But hey, when's the last time I went to a party? It's about time I had a social life! And you never know, there may be some cute guys and there. I smiled to myself.
"Alright, let's head out then." I said.
Alie opened the front door and we climbed into the cab waiting outside our door already. She gave the driver the address and off we went. The cab ride was short, almost not worth the fare, but for the cold. When we arrived, I could tell immediately that the night would be a blur. We got out of the cab, and walked up to the door, through which we could hear drunken voices and someone playing loud dubstep. Alie grabbed my hand and squeezed it grinning at me like a fool before she pulled me along. I was completely bewildered when I got inside. There were people everywhere. I felt Alie let go of my hand as we pushed through a group of people. She disappeared around a corner, and when I got around it finally, I couldn't see her anywhere.
"Brilliant. Fucking brilliant…" I muttered to myself.
"Looking for someone?" said a voice from behind me.
I spun on my heel to find myself inches from his face. He was gorgeous, in a sort of familiar way.
"Wha… I, uh…" I stammered stupidly.
"Lemme get you a drink" he said confidently, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the next room.
I followed close behind him, trying not to get lost again. He let go of my hand and went straight to the small white refrigerator in the corner. I perched myself on a stool at the breakfast bar while I waited. As he rummaged through the fridge, I noticed how cute he was, especially from this angle, and how his skinny jeans were really just way too flattering for his own good. He emerged with 2 beers, handing me one. I opened it hesitantly. I don't normally drink but… What the hell, ! He takes a long drink of his, so I do the same, not wanting to seem like someone who has little to no experience with alcohol.
"You here with anyone, then?" He asks staring at me.
"Yeah, I mean, I think so. I've kinda, lost her…" I admit
"Well that's just too bad, isn't it?"
"Yeah. I mean, I don't really know anyone else here-" I begin
"You know me." He says
"Do I now?" I say with a little smile. I'm getting more and more confident around him.
I think I'm starting to get the hang of this flirting thing, I hope.
"Yes." He says, holding his arms out "I'm Chris"
I open my mouth to introduce myself properly but find myself with a mouthful of his blue duck and umbrella patterned sweater. His arms are around my back, squeezing me briefly before letting go.
He looks at me like I've just done something unfathomably weird.
SHIT! Shit, shit, shit, say something quick!
I try to salvage what's left of my confidence and good impression.
"Laurel" I say plastering an obscenely fake grin on my face and trying to look more confident than I felt.
He starts to smile at me and I feel instantly more at ease. His smile is just so disarming. For a while we just chat casually. Generic small talk and the like.
He opens his mouth to respond and is promptly cut off by someone around the corner.
"BING!"
"Listen, I'll be right back okay?" He says, looking over his shoulder towards the commotion. "Stay here."
"BING!"
He squeezes my hand in his and then disappears.
I just kind of stand there, almost in shock. I've just realized why he's so familiar.
*****I cannot believe I didn't recognize it before! It's Bing. Christopher 'Bing' Bingham. I am such an idiot. I try to think of some way to process what's just happened but I can't, I can't even form a coherent sentence.
Then all of a sudden, a hand on my shoulder spins me around. Alie is in front of me, quite obviously drunk, and on the verge of tears about something I can't even understand. I put my arm around her shoulder and guide her out of the room. I keep my eye out for a seat on a couch or chair, but don't see anything. So I lead her outside instead, and we sit on the curb. She's really upset over something some boy she just met said to her whilst they were both extremely drunk. Typical Alie. I can't think of anything really supportive to say so I mostly just smile and nod sympathetically.
Alie, I decide, is much too drunk to be out anymore. I pull out my cell phone and dial for a cab. We sit there on the curb, shivering, until it pulls up. I pay the driver (because Alie is probably too drunk to remember to) and tell him the address. As the cab pulls away, I turn back to the house to find Bing, coming out of the front door, looking very confused.
"Laurel."
He doesn't really call me, more like he's just saying my name out loud, like a statement of fact.
"Bing?" I reply cautiously
"Yes." He says.
"What are you doing?" I ask cautiously.
He seems a lot more than just a little drunk now. I didn't even realize we'd been outside for that long. Surely not long enough for Bing to get so drunk."Laurel, do you know where my shoe is?" he asks.
My god, he must be absolutely plastered.
I stand there staring at him in a sort of bewildered, mouth half open, really confused but sort of amazed way. He's just standing there on the grass, with one shoe on, his shirt half untucked under his ducky sweater, and hair that's tousled in a way that looks like it would have taken hours in front of the mirror to perfect. I'm almost jealous for a moment.
I don't think I know a single other person who can actually look that good while being that drunk.
"I haven't seen it." I answer.
"Then help me look!" he whines at me, "I need my other shoe to get home!"
"Alright, alright. I'm coming." I call back to him.
He grins stupidly at me as I walk towards him. And I can't help but smile back. His earlier self-confidence has been replaced by his helpless intoxication, and I still can't help but fancy him. As I reach him, I slide an arm around his waist to steady him while we walk back up the driveway.
Someone opens the door for us, looking slightly less disheveled than Bing. He hands Bing his shoe, and we follow him into the living room, sitting on the now empty couch. There aren't many people left by this point. Most have walked home or to the bus stop. He calls us another cab, so all we have to do is wait.
Maybe it was just a comfortable couch, or maybe it was Bing's arms around me, but next soon enough I was passed out on a total stranger's couch with Chris Bingham wrapped around me at half four in the morning.
I woke up to unfamiliar surroundings and the swaying of a moving vehicle. I sprang awake, frantic to find out where I was. As I snapped my head up, I smashed my head against something. I assessed the situation; I was inside a car, a taxi and Bing was beside me holding the side of his face in pain.
"Oh, god! I'm so sorry, are you ok?" I exclaim, realizing what's happened.
I put my hand on his cheek instinctively to make sure he's alright.
"I'll live."
My hand resting on his face, I brushed my thumb across his cheek. He put his hand over top of mine, and I blushed, but managed to hold eye contact with him. He smiled at me and leaned closer transferring his hand from his own cheek to mine. I closed my eyes and leaned into him, my heartbeat getting quicker.
Our lips met briefly, before we were pulled apart by the sway of the cab as we rounded a corner. We were rocked forwards as the cab pulled up to a curb and stopped.
"This is me." Bing announced trying to cover any residual awkwardness from our kiss.
He opened the door but didn't get out right away.
"Right." I said, with a little more emotion than I'd intended to show.
He reached over to me and squeezed my hand before he got out of the car.
"I'll see you around then?" He asked hopefully.
"Bing,"
"Yeah."
"I'm broke."
"Uh… Me too."
"So, Matt paid our cab fare here, and I can't pay for a ride home." I explained.
The cab driver cleared his throat meaningfully. He was getting impatient.
"Come on then." Bing said. He grabbed my hand and helped me out of the cab, shutting the door behind me.
The cab pulled away and rounded the corner, and I was left standing there hand in hand with Bing. I made a small mental checklist.
Unfamiliar street corner, check. Boy I've met only six hours ago, check. Questionable life decisions, check. Worth it? Definitely. After all, was this not the sort of lifestyle I've jealously watched all my friends live for years?
I squeeze Bing's hand, as I realize how chilly it actually is. Bing obviously notices my shivering because he pulls me close and puts an arm around me as we walk up to his front door.
He fumbles with his keys for a moment and then we're inside and warming up again.
Inside the front hall Bing drops his keys into a small dish on a stand and begins to take off his sweater. I kick off my shoes and watch him do the same. He unceremoniously manages to hang his sweater on a hook, which worries me a little.
"Are you going to be alright?" I ask.
He nods at me. Not exactly faith inspiring… I should at least help him into bed so he doesn't kill himself going upstairs.
I grab his hand again and he leads me towards the stairs. He puts his arm over my shoulder and I put an arm around his waist. Then we make our way upstairs.
I held the railing tightly and made sure my arm had a firm grip on Bing's waist. I savored the feeling of Bing's head resting heavily on my shoulder, even in his semi-drunkenness.
As we reached the top of the stairs, Bing missed the last step, and collapsed onto me with such an unexpected amount of force that I was caught completely off guard. I closed my eyes and braced my body for the inevitable impact. Both of us toppled to the floor, but I landed on something distinctly more… human, than the hardwood flooring I'd anticipated. I opened my eyes, and found my face mere inches from Bing's. His eyes were closed, and for a moment I could have believed he was unconscious, until I realized just how tightly his arms were wrapped around my waist.
"Bing?" I asked cautiously.
"hmmm." he mumbled.
Well at least he's still conscious. That's reassuring. I don't know where his bedroom is let alone if I could carry him there.
I started to push my body away from his, so I could get up and then help him up, but his arms stayed locked around me. After a valiant effort, I gave up trying to break free, and resigned myself to laying there on top of him. Which I didn't mind really. But as I looked down at his face, I saw his lips curl into a smirk of delight. I opened my mouth to make a snarky comment, but before I could say anything my lips were pressed against his. He tasted like alcohol still, but so did I, so I didn't mind that either. His hand moved cautiously from my back, slowly upwards to my neck, cradling my head. I savored his touch and the feeling of his lips on mine, until I had to pull away from him to breathe. I lay there looking into his eyes, both of us panting from being so passionately intertwined .
He slipped his legs between mine, allowing him to sit up with me on his lap and my legs around his waist. I leaned into him, pressing our lips together again. Putting my arms around his neck, I tangled my fingers in his soft curly brown hair. His hands traced their way hesitantly down my back, and he ran his tongue along my teeth…
It was exhilarating.
I remember us getting up, and moving to his bedroom. I remember his lips on mine and his hands on my body. I remember feeling amazing…
I remember…
Not much else… I realized with a sigh. As delicately as possible, I moved his arm off me so I could get up. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, pulling the sheet around me. I scanned the floor for my clothes, locating my skirt and bra. I got up and tiptoed over to my clothes, gathering them, while looking for my shirt. Dropping the sheet I slipped on my skirt. The sound of the duvet rustling on the bed made me freeze. I turned slowly, hoping he had just rolled over. But instead I found myself standing there half naked in front of Bing. Not that he reacted much; he just sort of sat there bemusedly smiling at me.
"Morning," he paused, "Laurel." He added remembering my name.
"Morning." I mumbled awkwardly.
He looked at me for a moment, realizing that I was in the process of getting dressed.
"Are you leaving?" he asked
"Well, I was, um, I guess. But I don't really have money for a cab or anything. And I don't really know where I am, and… Uh, yeah." I let my voice trail off.
He got up, stretched, and passed me my shirt from where it had fallen the other side of the bed.
"You could stay." He said "If you want, I guess, for a bit." He added
I think he actually likes me. I mean, guys don't ask just anyone to stay do they?
"That would be great." I replied earnestly.
He just grinned back.
And so we went about collecting our various articles of clothing, getting dressed as we did.
The last thing I picked up was my phone. I turned the screen on to check if I'd missed much, which I hadn't. There were a few missed calls from various friends. Probably about whatever gossip Alie has fed them. She must have a dozen theories by now for why I didn't get home last night. There was a text message from Alie too. I opened it and almost gasped out loud. It was only two words.
It read: Alie: You're welcome ;)