She understands. Stretching out will be a lot better, easier, in bed. It was a brilliant idea on his part, really, the necessity of lying down as he sobers up aside.
"Come on." Her voice is as soft and gentle as her hand on his arm, which now shifts to take his elbow. "Let me help you up. We'll get you dried off and right into bed, you'll feel better."
It's possible he fell very slightly asleep in the tub waiting. It makes his words a little mumbled, his attention a little flighty now that he's dragging into wakefulness again. Drunk sleep is good sleep, after all.
She waits, hand still on his elbow. If he needs a minute or two, it's fine. There's no rush. And she'd rather not have him topple trying to get his feet half-awake.
She'll have to remember, in the morning, when he's ready to hear it, what a genius he was. Suggesting bed to stretch out. Insisting she skip clothes she would've gotten damp right away as he leans on her.
But now her focus is entirely on looking after him. On getting him dried off as best she can, drawing a towel over him while holding him up.
"Okay to the bedroom now," and she draws his arm across her shoulders. "Ready?"
He does a good job being pliant and calm, not squirming or resisting her ministrations. He doesn't do such a good job helping, but he can hardly be expected to at this point.
Being instructed to properly hold onto her is lovely. It also gets him nuzzling contentedly at her neck... which, to be fair, isn't at all helpful for balance.
She wasn't expecting help; she's done this often enough in the past, and not gotten it, to have expected it here. It's all right. She knows she's also pretty useless after a certain amount of alcohol.
She laughs, she sound tapering off into a pleased little him as she puts her arm around his waist, catching a bit more of his weight. "I've got you," she says softly. "We're going out the door and across to the bedroom."
It takes a bit longer than it normally would, but they manage it. She turns them both as they reach the bed, so she can sit, nearly getting him seated beside her. It's far more elegant than dumping him onto the bed or letting go and hoping for the best.
She's got him. She's got him and she's got a plan and the world feels very warm and nice once all that's true.
Even better, of course, is actually getting to the bed. Actually being allowed to squirm out of her hold and be properly flopped across the bed. It's a good bed. It's a bed for stretching out on and a bed that smells like her. It's his favourite bed.
He's flopped over, so she has to crawl over his legs to reach the middle of the bed. She curls into his side, drawing the covers partway up. She drapes her arm gently across his body.
"Go back to sleep for a bit, mm?" She can try getting some water into him if he wakes later.
A successful 'boo' it was, then, if the result was having Rachel curled up against him in bed. A very successful 'boo' indeed. And a 'boo' which he regrets not at all, since it allows him to just squirm and wrap happily around her with a properly tight squish of limbs.
"Yes'm."
Sleep he can do. Sleep he can do if she lets him nuzzle comfortably in like this, face buried against her hair and arms tight and safe around her.
But first there's a minor bit of squirming. Her arm raises, hand sliding up the back of his neck to rub soothing little circles there, and further up into his hair.
It's more statement than question as he lets his spine stretch briefly, head arching back just briefly against the touch of her fingers. It's important that, at least for the moment, forever is being thought of--and feeling like an important fact to state.
It startles her to hear it given voice, to hear the word said out loud.
But it's true. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't thinking the very same thing right now. Or if the idea hadn't crossed her mind every other time she'd said--promised--that she'd be right here.
"Yes." She doesn't qualify it, doesn't try to mitigate it with anything like if I can or if you want. Don't they both understand that by now? Neither of them is doing of allowing anything they don't both want.
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no subject
"Come on." Her voice is as soft and gentle as her hand on his arm, which now shifts to take his elbow. "Let me help you up. We'll get you dried off and right into bed, you'll feel better."
no subject
It's possible he fell very slightly asleep in the tub waiting. It makes his words a little mumbled, his attention a little flighty now that he's dragging into wakefulness again. Drunk sleep is good sleep, after all.
"...and you... come too, mm...?"
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She waits, hand still on his elbow. If he needs a minute or two, it's fine. There's no rush. And she'd rather not have him topple trying to get his feet half-awake.
"Whenever you're ready."
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Slowly, admittedly. And just a bit unsteadily. She can expect to be clung to damply.
no subject
But now her focus is entirely on looking after him. On getting him dried off as best she can, drawing a towel over him while holding him up.
"Okay to the bedroom now," and she draws his arm across her shoulders. "Ready?"
no subject
Being instructed to properly hold onto her is lovely. It also gets him nuzzling contentedly at her neck... which, to be fair, isn't at all helpful for balance.
"Hm."
no subject
She laughs, she sound tapering off into a pleased little him as she puts her arm around his waist, catching a bit more of his weight. "I've got you," she says softly. "We're going out the door and across to the bedroom."
It takes a bit longer than it normally would, but they manage it. She turns them both as they reach the bed, so she can sit, nearly getting him seated beside her. It's far more elegant than dumping him onto the bed or letting go and hoping for the best.
"Can you get some water in you?"
no subject
Even better, of course, is actually getting to the bed. Actually being allowed to squirm out of her hold and be properly flopped across the bed. It's a good bed. It's a bed for stretching out on and a bed that smells like her. It's his favourite bed.
"...boooo."
It's his sound for the evening.
no subject
He's flopped over, so she has to crawl over his legs to reach the middle of the bed. She curls into his side, drawing the covers partway up. She drapes her arm gently across his body.
"Go back to sleep for a bit, mm?" She can try getting some water into him if he wakes later.
no subject
"Yes'm."
Sleep he can do. Sleep he can do if she lets him nuzzle comfortably in like this, face buried against her hair and arms tight and safe around her.
no subject
But first there's a minor bit of squirming. Her arm raises, hand sliding up the back of his neck to rub soothing little circles there, and further up into his hair.
"I'll be right here."
no subject
It's more statement than question as he lets his spine stretch briefly, head arching back just briefly against the touch of her fingers. It's important that, at least for the moment, forever is being thought of--and feeling like an important fact to state.
no subject
But it's true. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't thinking the very same thing right now. Or if the idea hadn't crossed her mind every other time she'd said--promised--that she'd be right here.
"Yes." She doesn't qualify it, doesn't try to mitigate it with anything like if I can or if you want. Don't they both understand that by now? Neither of them is doing of allowing anything they don't both want.
"Forever."
no subject
That's a thought he can fall asleep with buzzing in his mind, whether or not he'll be able to actually think it again in the morning.
Ooc;
Carry on? Leave it there and find another meme? I'm happy with either.
ooc;
Onward to new memes, methinks. o/
Re: ooc;
ooc;
Re: ooc;
picture prompt meme
Take your pick; if you'd rather I do a starter just let me know, I don't mind :3