World Tour

NY: out

They went out to dinner with the crew, and Eddy was a bit ashamed that they found themselves in yet another Chinese restaurant. His resolution to try different cuisines really wasn't going according to plan. 

No one had really mentioned very much about his announcement after the initial exitement, everyone just behaved like they always did. Eddy was so relieved.
And it was wonderful to be among people who knew they were a couple. Eddy hadn't realised just how stressful it had been to hide it, before. He was having the best time. 

Ibo was quickly getting quite drunk, and Eddy wasn't far behind him, he knew. 
He didn't care, though. Today had been one of the most awesome days ever. It deserved an awesome night. 

So by the time they left the restaurant to go to a club he was having to hold onto Brett's hand, this time not so much for romantic reasons, but for balance ones. 
¨Hey love, you gonna pace yourself a bit?¨ Brett asked, softly. 
Brett hadn't drunk as much, Eddy realised. He probably remembered what happened last time he got drunk. The thought made him snigger. 
¨Brett, the sensible one, for once?¨ he jibed. 
Brett just rolled his eyes. 

Eddy knew he shouldn't order any more alcohol in the club, he knew, he did. He was a terrible drinker: he'd get sick and he'd stay sick all of the next day. 
But somehow he heard himself ordering his favourite drink of all: Jägerbull, before making his way back onto the dance floor. 

---

He didn't know how he'd got back to their hotel room, but as soon as he opened his eyes, he knew he was in trouble. 
Shit, he was going to be sick! He jumped out of bed and crashed into the bathroom, barely making the toilet in time. 
Oh fuck, why did he have to drink that jägerbull, he thought miserably as he bent over, hugging the bowl, retching again and again. It never seemed to end. 
Brett was there though, he realised. He hadn't even noticed him coming in, but he knew he was there now, stroking his back, murmering sweet words. 
It took forever before he could catch his breath and sit back, leaning against the white tiles, still feeling so sick he knew he couldn't venture far away. 

He looked at Brett gloomily. ¨I'm so stupid¨, he croaked. ¨You told me to stop, I'm so stupid...¨
¨You'll be okay, my love, you'll be okay¨, Brett said softly. 

He spent the next hours on the floor of the bathroom. It was miserable.
He'd sent Brett to bed at one point: Brett needed his sleep. Eddy felt like he would be stuck on that floor forever. 
It wasn't until light started coming through the crack in the door, that the nausea let up some. 
He got up shakily, drank a little bit of water and then stumbled into the room, letting himself fall into one of the chairs, falling asleep instantly. 


When he woke up he was in the bed. What? How'd he get here? 
He opened his eyes, and the light was like knives, piercing his brain in all places at once. He was sore all over from lying on the hard, cold floor. He groaned, but the sound made his head hurt even more. 
He was an idiot, a stupid idiot. 
He heard the door of their room open and close, and understood that Brett was tiptoeing in. 
There was a light pressure on the bed as he sat down. 
Eddy put both hands over his eyes and groaned again. 
¨Hey¨, Brett whispered. ¨I got you some strong painkillers and some white bread. 
The thought of eating almost made Eddy gag again, but he knew Brett was right, eating would be a good idea. 

The weight left the bed, and he heard something grinding. He realised after a second what the sound was, and it made him smile, although even smiling hurt. 
When he'd been ill, as a kid, his mum used to grind up the painkiller between two spoons, so he wouldn't have to swallow a pill. Brett knew this, and was doing the same now. 
¨What did I ever do to deserve you¨, he croaked. 
A spoon was brought to his lips, and he lifted his head and took the painkiller, quickly swallowing some water. 
¨I will throw up again if you make me eat any bread¨, he managed. 

Brett lay down next to him and was silent for a while. 
¨How did I get home? Did I embarrass myself?¨ Eddy asked after a while, the painkiller mercifully taking some of the excruciating headache away. 
¨I got you home before that would happen.¨ Brett said, simply. ¨I knew you got too drunk and would get sick.¨
¨Did you carry me from the chair to the bed?¨
¨Yeah.¨
¨I'm so sorry...¨ Eddy said, again. 
He could feel Brett shrug.
¨Nothing you haven't done for me twenty times.¨