Ed Sheeran [SMUT]

Grammy

You knew it would end like this. The chances of him actually getting one of those damned things are so slim.

You of all people know that he deserves one. He deserves them all. That he works so damn hard, but you also know that these things don’t define him. He does not stand for this part of the industry.

You think that sometimes he forgets that. He’ll say it doesn’t matter, that it’s nothing, but deep down you know he is disappointed. In himself, even though it is not his fault at all. There is nothing he could do about this because these things are decided by people you and I both want nothing to do with.

So you are not at all surprised, when Stuart texts you later at the after show party to come and get him. To bring him to the hotel and sober him up.

When you get there, he is standing next to some people, crisp in a tux and tie, slightly swaying maybe from exhaustion, maybe from too much alcohol, talking to a guy you have never seen before. When he notices you, he smiles, says something to his companions, nods, shakes some hands and then comes towards you.

He is looking at you, face concentrating hard, like he wants to gauge your reaction. If you’re disappointed in him too. Stupid boy.

You shake your head slightly in mild amusement and reach your arms.

He closes the distance between the two of you, wraps his arms around you and buries his nose in your hair, breathing heavily, while leaning most of his weight on you. You stand there like this for a some while. You feel his heart beating, a little faster than normally and he is holding on to you, like he might fall off this world if he lets go.

There are people walking past you here and there, but it feels like everything is far away and there are just the two of you left.

“You know these things are totally overrated anyway, right?” You mumble into his chest. You feel him chuckle lightly and shake his head. He unwraps you from his grip, one of his hands sliding down your arm, finding your fingers and lacing them with his, gripping them to hold his stand. He looks at you, but you feel like he is not really seeing you.

“Ed?” you ask. He just shakes his head and you tug at this hand making him follow you, out of this fake world where you know he just doesn’t belong.

“You know I’m not that drunk.” he mumbles, while walking a step behind you, hand still firmly gripping yours. It makes you giggle, cause he probably is that drunk.

“Don’t laugh at me.” he frowns.

“You know I never laugh at you, Sunshine, I laugh WITH you” Still giggling you pull him in the direction of the hotel, where the both of you are staying. He frowns even more, clearly remembering last years little drama of getting him back to the hotel. You weren’t there, you had him on the phone, it was awful. So you promised to stay here this year, to come and pick him up after all the important people got their fit of alcohol.

He tugs at your hand making you stop and turn around. Before you can say something, he has his other hand on your neck and his lips on yours. Your eyes widen briefly in surprise, you’re in public and normally he avoids everything that’s more than a hug or a quick kiss in front of cameras.

But now he is kissing you with a roughness and eagerness you only know from behind closed doors.

You feel eyes on you and hear the familiar flash sound of photos being taken but he doesn’t even seem to realise or care about it.

You are no secret to the public eye but he doesn’t like the attention on you when it comes to him. He doesn’t like to share.

You press the hand, that’s not holding tightly onto his against his chest and push him gently away. A quite whiny sound leaves his throat and he looks at you like you denied him an orgasm or something.