Heart's Done Time (Aerosmith Fanfiction)

Chapter twenty-nine, part one

A/N:

Reposting because Wattpad hates me. 

With NaNoWriMo quickly approaching to steal away all my writing time, I've chosen to do a double update to try and wrap things up here before I need all my brain-power for my novel. Hopefully, part two of this will be up tomorrow, and maybe by Halloween this story will have come to a close.

Enjoy, and leave a review if you've got a mo!

Chapter twenty-nine, part one

Steven's POV

The few days preceding New Years and Joe's party were horridly uneventful and filled mostly with petting and training Mick while my parents were off doing who-knows-what at who-knows-where.

Sesame was mostly absent throughout this time, though she did come over on the twenty-ninth to say hi and check how Mick and I were doing and bring me some pizza since she apparently had noticed that I wasn't eating again. I hadn't even noticed that. Her perceptiveness never ceased to surprise me.

On New Year’s Eve she came by again, though not until the night, and even then it was just to check that I was awake, dressed, fed, and sober before we left for the party. I was only one of these, though, and it wasn't hard to guess which.

"Knock knock," she said, peeping in my door with a bright smile on her face that always seemed to fall whenever she found me in less-than-stellar shape. "It's me. Just came by to hang out before the party."

She sat down at my feet, folding her sock-clad legs and looking at me with an odd expression. Probably because I was still in bed at 8:30 PM and wearing only my pajama pants and a light, ratty t-shirt. I'd also managed to empty the old bottle of vodka Sesame had brought by that one night before my trip to the hospital.

"You look like shit," she told me, scrunching up her cute little nose at the state of my greasy, matted hair. "When was the last time you showered?"

I furrowed my brow. "Uh, I don't know. Maybe Christmas Eve?"

"You haven't washed your hair in a week?" she asked, sounding incredulous. "Goddamn. What've you been doing?"

"Well on Christmas I was a little drunk and preoccupied, and the past few days I've been buried in blankets and kitten," I said, scratching behind Mick's ears as if to prove my point.

"Well, you're going to take one now. You reek," said Sesame, taking Mick from my lap and moving him to the floor. "C'mon, hot stuff, chop chop! We've got a party to get to!"

I obeyed, knowing that she was right, and headed for the bathroom while Sesame dug through the mess that covered my closet floor in search of something clean and presentable for me to wear.

I reached the bathroom and shut the door, bolting it shut and stripping out of my filthy pajamas while the water ran. I then threw the clothes to the floor and stepped into the shower.

Hurriedly I washed my hair and body and then stopped the water flow, grabbing my towel from where it hung and wrapping it around my bony, shivering shoulders. From there I dried off rather quickly and then wrapped the towel around my waist before making my way back to the bedroom to rejoin Sesame, who had set out a pair of jeans and a white three-quarter-sleeved shirt for me to wear.

"Okay, hot stuff, get dressed. The party starts in fifteen minutes," she said, tossing me a pair of boxers and picking up some of the more recent trash littering the room while I changed into the outfit she'd chosen.

I dropped my towel and stepped into my boxers, and then pulled on my jeans and buckled my belt as tight as I could get it.

"You need to pop some more holes in that," commented Sesame when my pants continued to slip down. "You're too damn skinny." She had that look on again. It was the kind of look I imagined she'd also given Mick when she found the poor creature alone and starving on the streets somewhere.

"Yeah, I've only been told that a few dozen times. This week," I said with a roll of the eyes. "Can we please quit talking about my weight and instead get to partying our way into 1965?"

"Only in this relationship would that be a completely natural thing to say," she said, shaking her head but smiling all the same. "What am I doing with my life?"

"Lovingly caring for a lost soul and looking gorgeous while you're at it," I said, kissing her forehead and grabbing her hand to lead her towards the door.

We grabbed our coats from where they were hanging and then bustled towards the van, both very wary of the fact that I'd just had pneumonia and was walking outside with wet hair in December. We hurried, if just for this reason, and were quickly on the road to Joe's.

When we finally arrived, the party had been going on for at least ten minutes, but this hardly bothered us, especially when half of the guests were running late and this meant that we were some of the first to get to break into the booze. Maybe it was only me that was excited about this, but Sesame at least didn't shake her head at my eagerness and even accepted the beer I handed her.

We took seats on the couch where Joe was talking with some sophomore--Alison something, I thought I remembered--and quickly hopped into the conversation, something about music and shit I would later forget. We were all drinking, and within the hour we were thoroughly trashed and gleeful.

Joe pulled out a guitar at some point and serenaded Alison with some riff he'd started and never finished, and then passed it to me so I could play for my own female companion--Do You Want to Know a Secret, since I couldn't remember anything else in the moment.

Sesame giggled and blushed, and everyone around (all of whom were now too blurry in my eyes to identify) awh-ed in unison as I fell over laughing at the creepy underlying messages my intoxicated mind found in the lyrics I was singing.

The night continued like this, for the most part; with me and Sesame giggling and singing and occasionally kissing while everyone around mostly ignored us.

Later that night, however, was when it got really interesting.