Intern {Five Nights at Freddy's Fanfiction}

41) Puppy Dog Eyes

Warning (I guess): Suggestive Content/ Heavy Fluff (NO SMUT)

"Ahem...keys?" I asked, glancing over my shoulder at him. Even when completely out of it, Mike was still thinking ahead of me. Instead, with one jerk of the handle, he opened the door. "Don't you think it's dangerous keeping the door open like that?"

"Nope." He uttered, popping the 'p'. I frowned and pushed it open to let us inside. I was careful to watch my back, though, since I didn't trust Mike not to do something lewd. If he was anything like when he was tipsy...I was in for a long night.

I flipped on the light switch and sighed in relief. Mike had taken this time as an opportunity to lay down on the couch. I sighed again and kicked off my shoes near the front door. It was just an old habit.

"Mike..." I frowned, checking my phone for the time, "It's almost three. You need to get some rest if you're gonna go to work."

"No." he stated plainly, pressing his face further into the couch cushions. I sighed again through my nose and leaned over the back of it to see him laying there. I wasn't sure what to do so I poked him in the side.

"Uhn..." he groaned, pushing my hand away. "I don't feel so good."

"Do you feel sick?" I asked, glancing at him again. I did not feel like cleaning vomit off of floor.

"Uhn..." he groaned in response, sitting up ever so slightly. "Maybe..."

"Here...let me help you." I murmured, sitting on the couch next to him. Without hesitation, Mike inched forward and let his head rest in my lap. "I didn't mean like this but...okay."

I knew it was going to be a long night.

* * * *

"You alright Mike? You've been throwing up your guts for about half an hour." I giggled, knocking on the door with the back of my knuckles.

Served him right for drinking so much and forgetting about his family.

Speaking of which, I had called a worried Rachel earlier. Even though there had been much relief expressed over the phone, she still wanted me to look over him. As it turns out, Rachel and Jeremy were coworkers and had no problem making sleeping arrangements.

Thus, I was left with a sobering Mike who had a severe hangover.

"No!" He coughed. The sounds of throaty hacks and wet heaves could be heard from outside. I chuckled and left the room, making a mental note of all the things I would need to help him feel better.

Eleanor's complete guide to comfort a drunkard that's sobering up (Made official by her traitorous sister Zamora):

1) Find aspirin and orange juice
2) Have blankets and pillows in a really comfortable place
3) Be prepared for vomit/ have a trashcan nearby
4) Prepare to take care of someone with a shitty attitude and sharp tongue
5) Keep a cool head/ don't yell no matter what

Part 'a' of step number one was complete since I had found a bottle of aspirin in Mike's medicine cabinet. All I needed now was to find a glass of orange juice.

And thankfully, there was some in the fridge.

 I happily poured the juice into two cups and set them down on the table next to the aspirin. Step number one was complete. Now, I needed step number two.

 There were two comfy areas in the apartment (that I knew of). One was the couch, and the other was Mike’s bed. I wasn't going to lay down with Mike in his bed so I figured the couch would be a better alternative. Step two was complete as well.