Sugar, Spice, And All Things Nice! [BoyxBoy One Shots]

But You're My Brother-in-law!?

But You’re My Brother-in-law!?

 

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(Gabriel’s Point of View)

I chuckled. Watching Joe attempt to climb out of the taxi was like watching someone who was partially blind find their contact lenses. He used his hands more than his feet as he stumbled out of the door and fell into a tangle mess on the side of the curb. I tossed the taxi driver a five pound note and climbing out of the vehicle I watched Joe pathetically make an effort to stand up, “Drunken idiot.”

I helped him up and he mumbled in my ear. I’m sure that in his mind it made perfect sense but in my ears it was just a load of messed-up drunken slurs. He threw one arm around me heavily and I practically dragged him to the hotel front-door; the whole time my ear was being assaulted by his un-translatable drabble.

He slipped again as we entered the hotel and he landed on the ground with a hard thud, directly into a Caution, Slip Hazard sign. I couldn’t help but laugh as I helped him up once again, the receptionists behind the hotel desk giving us one of the dirtiest scowls I’ve ever seen. After what seemed like a very embarrassing forever, we reached the elevator and I plonked him inside and pressed the button for Floor 5.

As the elevator rose I took a deep breath in and then out. In a day’s time I would be married to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met: Joe’s sister, Megan, who unlike her brother was a very gracious drunk.

The elevator pinged loudly and the doors slid open into the long pristine corridor of Floor 5. “Come on you silly bastard” I mumbled, practically picking Joe up like a baby and carrying him to Room 405, our room.

The automated lights illuminated suddenly at our presence as Joe burst into the room slurring some more and I followed shamefully after, locking the door and hanging my jacket up on the coat hooks. I stood there for a few seconds, watching him fly around the room pretending he was in some sort of mission impossible film alongside Tom Cruise. When his mission was complete, he launched himself onto my bed stupidly.

“Get up and get in your own bed” I growled approaching the bed, the stag-do had been a long night, especially ferrying the drunken lump that was Joe.

His words were still slurred and mostly useless beer-talk, but I managed to pick a few key words out of his sentence, “Why…join me…big…know…want.”

I cursed under my breath, leaning over and prodding Joe hardly but he made no attempts to move at all. He just returned the blow, uncoordinated and drunk, he missed and I cackled as I won one over on him.

He spat some more words at me and I think he said “Make me.”

That was it. Challenge me at your own risk! I threw myself onto the bed, landing directly on Joe and landing a decent punch to his stomach. He just laughed which only fuelled my anger even more and I cupped my hands beneath me, swooping him up and throwing him over the side of the bed. He grunted as he smacked onto the floor.

Frankly, I didn’t care if he slept on the floor all night, just as long as he wasn’t on my bed at any point of it. So I started getting ready to sleep; I wanted to make sure that I was looking great and feeling fresh for the special day. I took my top off first and casually strolling over to the bathroom I dumped it on one of the towel racks.

Reaching the sink I brushed my teeth and rinsed thoroughly with my mouthwash, draining away any lingering odours of alcohol or kebab on my breath. Then I stripped down to my briefs, removing my favourite pair of jeans and hanging them carelessly over the towel rack also. I left the bathroom.