Heart's Done Time (Aerosmith Fanfiction)

Chapter twenty-eight

A/N:

Had to repost a chapter yet again -_-

Chapter twenty-eight

Sesame's POV

"Are you awake?"

No, I wasn't. Or I hadn't been until Steven whispered these words directly in my ear and startled me into the waking world where my head was pounding and my stomach threatened to eject its contents.

Now, though, yes. I was awake. And I lightly slapped Steven in his pretty face just to show how fucking awake I was.

"Ouch!" he objected, stroking his cheek like I'd hit him with force enough to bruise. "You must have one hell of a hangover to be going around slapping people."

"Not just any people," I groaned, sitting up and finding that I'd fallen asleep on Joe's sofa with Steven more or less spooning me. "Only people who wake me up early when I've been drinking all night."

"I wasn't trying to wake you up," he frowned, looking rather mad at himself while my eyes scanned to room to take a head count.

Joey had fallen asleep in the chair next to the couch and was slumbering noisily with his mouth agape; Ray was on the floor at his feet, head rested between Joey's two shins and eyes fluttering about beneath his eyelids; Tom had somehow ended up on the counter in the connecting kitchen, hugging to his chest an empty beer bottle and a cookie jar. But Joe? Joe was nowhere to be seen.

I stood up slowly, trying to avoid upsetting my stomach, and wandered off in search of Joe and my belongings with Steven lying still on the couch I'd partially vacated, eyes following me all the time.

I searched the expansive living room first, and eventually found my purse lying where the present heap used to be and covered by Steven's sleeping kitten, Mick, and then, after picking up the cat and dropping him on Steven's chest, I staggered down the hall to look for the missing member of Aerosmith.

I stopped for a moment by a mirror hanging on the wall and pulled my eyeliner out of my bag, outlining my smudges like I apparently always did and feeling self-conscious all the while. I did the best quickie job I could, and then returned to my mission, stopping in the doorway of the bathroom and looking in.

And that's where I found him.

There, on the tile floor, Joe was lying fast asleep next to a pile of his own vomit, and I had to try and get to him without making myself sick. I was used to vomit though--after all, I was dating Steven Tyler--and so it wasn't as difficult as it could've been. I shook him awake.

"Wha?" he looked at me groggily with heavy-lidded eyes.

"You're gonna want to get cleaning soon, sweetie. Your parents were only out for the one day," I reminded him, and that patted him on the head before stalking off towards the living room again.

Once there, I felt a smile break out on my face despite the headache banging away between my temples, for there on the couch was Steven and Mick, just where I left them, only now Steven was scratching the creature affectionately and Mick was purring and kneading his owner's bony chest to make himself comfortable. It was a precious sight, to say the least.

"You two are too sweet for words," I told them, eyes darting between the faces of the two skinny, scraggly-haired brunettes. "I almost want to take a photo. Oh wait!" I dug through my huge purse for a moment, grinning when I found I did, in fact, bring a camera. I snapped a picture.

"Can we go get coffee or something?" asked Steven, still stroking the cat lovingly. "It's stuffy in here and I'm hungover as hell."

"Yeah, okay," I said, taking one more picture of Steven and Mick giving me identical looks of groggy confusion. "Let's go."

I stuffed my camera back in my bag and then slung it over my shoulder, waiting for a moment while Steven gathered Mick in his arms and followed me out to the van, hopping into the passenger seat and laying the cat down on his lap.

I buckled up and pulled out of Joe's driveway, expertly shifting gears and driving off down the road towards a local diner, sparing Steven and Mick occasional glances because they were just too adorable to ignore for long.

"You can't bring a cat into a diner, you know," I said when we pulled into the parking lot and got set to go inside.

"I know," he said, lifting the kitten from his lap and ignoring the way it clawed. "You've gotta stay here, Mick. We won't be long, so you better be a man about it."

I rolled my eyes and led the way inside while Steven continued to say his goodbyes. He followed me in shortly after, and we took seats across from each other in one of the booths.

"What'll it be, then?" asked the 30-some-year-old woman who always seemed to be working when I was there.

"Just two coffees, please," I said, and she departed, bustling off to fill our order while Steven dozed at the table with his chin resting in his hand. I snapped in front of his face to bring him back to the land of the living.

"Sorry, I'm fucking tired, man," he said with a yawn, massaging his temples.

"So am I," I said pointedly. "Someone woke me up too early for my liking."

He blushed.

"Last night was fun, though," I said, pausing to thank the lady who brought us our coffee. "Are we gonna do New Years?"

"New Years?" he asked, obviously having been too drunk last night to remember.

I rolled my eyes. "Joe's throwing a New Years party," I reminded him, shaking my head when he discreetly pulled out the flask of vodka Joe had given him last night and poured some of the clear liquid into his beverage. "He's inviting a shit ton of people."

"Sounds fun to me," he shrugged, sipping the coffee/vodka mixture without even flinching at the taste. "Not like we have any other plans, right?"

"My thoughts exactly," I said, taking a gulp of my hot, alcohol-free coffee. "I guess we're going to a party, then."

"Yeah," said Steven, looking excited despite the dull look of hangover present in his eyes. "I guess we are."