Another time

Are things about to get a lot better, or a lot worse?

Your shoulder was screaming, your ribs not too happy either. There was a dull thump coming every few seconds, and you winced, burying your head into the crook of Alfie’s elbow as you braced for the full force of the oncoming hangover.

Staying up until almost dawn, slugging back a selection from Alfie’s booze cupboard, sleeping on nothing but the rug before the fire with the blanket you used to keep Pickles off the good office furniture wasn’t the best idea, in hindsight.

The soft ache of the marred flesh at your hip though, the bruising love-bitten skin tugging as you rolled around into Alfie’s grasp, the memory of his smile as you’d hovered over him, trying with tipsy limbs to pull his shirt over you and making a mess of it, the sound of his gravelly chuckle as he recounted some old story to you. None of those were bad ideas.

The thumps kept coming, now heavy and singular, rather than repeating blows. They also weren’t coming from your soaked brain, but from out in the room, and you gasped as your consciousness came all to you at once, the realisation arriving only a second before the door was kicked in.

Alfie acted in an instant, on instinct. You rolled out of his grip, hands bracing against the floorboards as you tucked your head in and under like a damn turtle. His poor arm you’d been sleeping on, probably numb from your skull pressing on it half the night, flew up and over your head, his gun already in grip. His heavy sigh, and the slam of his flopping arm beside your curled body let you know it wasn’t anyone who shouldn’t be there.

“Oh- “the sickened voice of Aaron was the first one heard, and you scrunched up your nose.

“Mmmmm…no. Nuh-uh” you shook your head, eyes squinting down at the edge of the rug as Alfie chuckled beside you. He still had his gun in hand – where the hell had he been keeping that? – but his other hand had come up to indeed rub at his arm, fingers pressing and prodding intermittently, and then palm pushing deep into his shoulder.

“Oh, come on” Aaron was still whispering to himself, as Rachel’s chuckle rose.

“What is-ohhhhh!” Toby had clearly brought up the rear and you threw a look over your shoulder to see him covering his eyes like the sun was pouring down from the ceiling, averting his gaze towards the blank wall.

“So, you weren’t answering, and we thought you might have been viciously murdered in the night” Rachel explained, tongue in her cheek as she popped a hip against the desk “Aaron did the gallant thing and broke down the door”

“Next time, we just leave them to rot” he frowned, slapping Toby’s hand down and scowling at him.

“We didn’t realise you were uh…having some special time” she smirked over to you, barely keeping her laughter under control as you gripped the blanket tight around you, eyeing Alfie’s shirt where he’d thrown it across the room that last time before rolling you back under him.

“Apologies” Toby waved his now lowered hand towards you, eyes set straight at the wall.

You smiled at his sweetness, rubbing a hand over your bright red cheeks. You turned your head towards Alfie bashfully, eyebrows raising at the sight of him lazily sprawled out, unabashed. He was laid back on his elbows, wiping his own sleepy hand over his face, his other rocking the gun side to side loosely in his grip. The blanket had fallen down around him, edging away from the ink scrawled in sections across his chest the more you’d tugged at it to cover your own skin.