Dom stumbled into their shared bedroom, leaning against the wall for a moment to catch his breath and stop his limbs from shaking. He looked out at the room, noticing a large object hanging from the ceiling, wrapped in a blanket.

That's odd, Dom thought to himself. I don't remember hanging something up.

Oh well.

He rolled into bed and fell asleep immediately.

When he woke up in the morning, his head was throbbing painfully. He slammed his hand down on his alarm clock that he'd stupidly forgotten to turn off and rolled over, searching for Matt. His hand patted the empty space beside him and Dom opened one eye, confused.

"Matt?" he called.

"Yes?" a muffled reply came from across the room. Dom looked up to see the object hanging from the ceiling swaying slightly, and in the daylight he was able to see what it was. A pair of socked feet were tied together and hanging precariously from a hook on the ceiling. A thick blanket was wrapped around Matt's wriggling form and he could see tufts of hair sticking out the top-well, bottom.

"Matt, what the hell are you doing?" Dom pulled himself out of the bed and rushed over to the giggling man swinging from the ceiling. "You could get yourself hurt."

"I've done it before, Dom. I'm not stupid." Dom folded his arms.

"Could've fooled me. How did you even get up there?"

"Tom helped me." Matt's head peered out from the blankets, a giant grin spreading across his face. "You were so shitfaced last night, you didn't even see him leave to help me set up." Dom clenched his fist and stormed out of the room, rapping on the door opposite and ignoring Matt's cries. Tom opened his door, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"It's a bit early for you, mate," he mumbled, hair sticking up like a bird's nest.

"Why the hell did you think it was a good idea to help Matt hang from the ceiling?" Dom demanded, furious with his friend.

"He seemed like he wanted to. Told me he'd done it before but couldn't get himself up there. He's not too heavy so I managed to hang him and he was satisfied."

"He could've been hurt! Think of all the blood rushing to his head. Or what if he had a nightmare and kicked about? What if he fell off the hook and broke his neck? How would you feel then, hmm?" Tom looked down sheepishly and remained silent. Dom left, stalking back to his own room. Matt was quiet, observing him from his cocoon.

"Are you mad at me, Dom?" he inquired softly. Dom sat on the edge of the bed and ran a head through his hair.

"I-I just think you're being stupid, Matt," Dom replied honestly. Uncomfortable silence settled between the two.

"Look, Dom, I'm a worm!"

He looked up to see Matt pulling a face at him from within the blankets, wriggling around and giggling. Dom sighed, although he had to admit it was a little bit funny. He began to pull on his clothes for the day, his pounding head demanding paracetamol and his stomach desperate for breakfast.

"Hey, Dom," Matt called. "Help me down, please?" Dom grinned over at Matt, pulling on his shoes. "Dom? Pwease? Dommy?" Dom stood up, arranging his hair into a sensible position. "Dominic, help me down now. I order you to help me down."

"Bye, Matt," Dom laughed, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him as he left for breakfast, Matt's cries of, "Dom! You bastard, help me down!" audible all the way along the corridor. Hopefully that'd teach him a lesson.