Vince Noir fell out of bed, his long dark hair sticking to his face, which was damp with sweat. What the hell had he been doing last night? He tried to think back. The last thing he could remember doing the previous evening was eating dinner with Howard and watching TV as usual.

He hadn't even looked back to see whose bed he was sleeping in, or if it was even a bed for that matter. Because it wasn't even a bed – it was the sofa in the living room of the flat, and on the sofa, next to where he had been lying, a rather pissed off Howard Moon had awoken from a peaceful slumber.

Vince stumbled through into the bathroom, raking through the medicine cabinet. He had a throbbing headache, and rather painful stomach cramps. Why, he thought. He pulled out every box and bottle he could find, until he came to the one he needed – a small blue bottle labelled "Painkillers". He opened the bottle, and went to pour one out. That was, until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun around dizzily, to be met with Howard, who was stood there in his grey cotton boxer shorts and khaki mohair socks, a miffed expression on his face.

"Why did you stop?"

Vince was puzzled. "Stop what, Howard?"

"Tying me up."

Vince looked at him, confusedly. He peeled a strand of his raven hair off his pale face and sighed. "Tying you up with what?"

And Howard lifted up his right arm and said, "With these."

Vince looked at his arm, then gasped. Around Howard's right wrist was a set of metal police handcuffs. Vince was dumbfounded.

"W-where the h-hell did w-we get th-th-THESE?" he stammered. He was scared now.

"Don't you remember?" chuckled Howard. "We stole a trolley from Tesco, and went for a spin round Central London in it."

"If we were both in it, who was pushing it?"

"It was Bollo, don't you remember? God damn Vince, what the fuck is up with you?"

"No bloody idea. But you've still not explained how we managed to steal these cuffs from the coppers."

"Well…" sighed Howard, scratching his head. "A young couple taking their dog for a walk saw us, and called the cops. A fairly young lad, obviously new on the force came to the scene, and randomly started attacking me, asking why I stolen the trolley. But I was stronger than him, and put up a fight. During the fight, I somehow managed to undo the handcuffs and key from his belt. I threw them to you, and hopped back into the trolley once I'd dealt a fairly strong blow to the young officer."

Vince laughed. "Oh right," he said with a smile.

But nothing could prepare him for what he was about to be told. He still had the worst to come.

"When we got back to the flat, I had to lift you out of the trolley because you were asleep. I dragged you onto the sofa and put the tweed blanket over you, but you woke up and were violently sick all over it, so I had to throw it in the skip because it wasn't machine washable. Which is a real shame, because I loved that blanket."

Vince's face turned scarlet. "I'm so sorry Howard," he moaned. "Is what happened next worse?"

"Depends on what your definition of worse is."

"Continue then."

"After throwing the blanket out, I came back, only to find you had swallowed a handful of coffee beans and drank a can of Red Bull. I wasn't really that surprised, that's typical behaviour from you Vince." He playfully tickled Vince's nose, then continued. "Then, you went and picked up the handcuffs from the sofa and told me that you wanted to have sex with me. I thought you were being your typical idiotic self, and that your were only teasing me like you tend to do from time to time, but you said it was no joke, and you kissed me"

Vince turned a shocking shade of pink. He'd KISSED Howard? Throwing up on his favourite blanket was embarrassing enough, but kissing him?

Howard went on. "You then proceeded to lick my upper lip, and told me my moustache tasted of liquorice. I told you I'd been eating some liquorice after dinner. Then you proceeded to push me onto the sofa, and kissed down my chest whilst undoing my shirt."

Vince was awestruck. He'd done something last night that he'd wanted to do for a long time, yet he couldn't even remember doing it.

"Did I really do that Howard?" he asked the jazz maverick.

"Yes you did."

"What else did I do?"

"Well…after undoing my shirt, you asked if I wanted more. I was too shocked to reply, so you…erm…you…"

"I what?" Vince asked impatiently.

"You undid my trousers and pulled them off. Then you…you…you stuck your hand down my underwear and masturbated me."

Vince was even more horrified than he'd been when he found out he'd kissed Howard. He'd touched his best mate's dick, and even though he'd wanted to do that for some time, it still shocked him like mad.

Vince thought that was the worst of it. He was right, in a way.

"Did anything else happen after I did that?" he whined.

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"You took the handcuffs and told me you were going to tie me up and play with me. I wasn't too bothered."

Vince let out a sigh. Wanting to tie up Howard wasn't as bad as jerking him off.

"After saying that, you proceeded to place the cuffs on my right wrist. But just as you were about to do my left wrist, you passed out on the sofa. You had the key in your hand when you passed out, and your hand was in a fist. I tried to prise your hand open to get the key, but it wouldn't budge. So, out of randomness and curiosity, I climbed over you onto the back of the sofa and fell asleep beside you."

"Right," sighed Vince, playing with a strand of his dark luscious hair. "If I did all that last night, how come I wake up with some sort of hangover, and don't remember anything?"

"Because," said Howard, "I put date-rape drugs in your coffee."