a/n: just a quick little fluff piece about boyfriend Barzy coming home to you drunk in love!
warnings: just alcohol — otherwise, complete and total fluff
I woke to the sound of my boyfriend swearing softly as a thud fell against our hardwood stairs.
I pushed myself up on my forearms, glancing at the lighted clock on our bedside table. 3:26 glared back at me.
“Mathew?” I called into the darkness, voice groggy with sleep.
“Shit!” I heard him mutter. I flipped the switch on the table that turned on the lights in the room, and a moment later, I watched Mat stumble in, rubbing his eyes with his fists.
“So bright. I fell up the steps in the dark though,” he grumbled, almost incoherently. Then he looked up to see me sitting upright in bed, a waiting look on my face. “You’re so pretty!” he exclaimed with a gasp.
I couldn’t help myself — a giggle escaped my lips as I shook my head, Mat grinning my way, quite pleased with himself for making me laugh.
“How waffled are you right now?” I asked Mathew as he threw himself onto the bed and crawled toward me.
“‘M not waffled. Just sleepy. Wanna sleep with you. I get to sleep with you! You’re so pretty!” he repeated, dropping his head into my lap. I breathed another laugh and sighed. “Oh, okay. Thank you. First, you have to go brush your teeth. I can smell the vodka on your breath from here,” I told him. He picked his head up to look at me, a grimace on his handsome face.
“‘M’sorry. ‘Kay, I’ll go now. Stay there!” Mat pushed himself to his feet, pointing at me, and I put my hands up, indicating I would obey his request. I watched him lumber to the bathroom and heard him turn on the water and start to brush his teeth, all while humming a Lizzo song and attempting the lyrics despite his mouth full of toothpaste. I shook my head again, pressing a hand to my forehead, trying to suppress even more laughter.
It was a Thursday, and the boys had won big at home over Philadelphia, so Coach had given them the following day off. That was all it took for the guys to start scheming in the locker room while changing out of their gear, mapping out a plan for the evening. In the family room after he had dressed in his streetclothes once more, Mat had begged me to join them, as a handful of the wives and girlfriends were accompanying them, but I gently declined. It had been a long day at my fashion merchandising internship, not to mention the mad dash I’d made to get to the game in 6 o’clock New York City traffic, and I had a big midterm presentation for my graduate marketing class the next morning for which I needed to prepare. Mat had nearly ditched the guys and traded in his plans to go out with them for a night in on the couch practicing with me, but I insisted that he go and have fun. Days off during the season were few and far between. Clearly, he had taken that advice to heart. After practicing my presentation half a dozen times after finally arriving home from the game, I had only been asleep for about an hour and a half before being awakened when Mat’s Uber dropped him off and he made his grand entrance back into our shared Brooklyn apartment.
“Hi babe! You’re still here! She’s still here, ladies and gentlemen!” Mat announced when he emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, having stripped down to his boxers.
“I live here, Barzal,” I reminded him with a smirk. “I know! How cool is that? I live with the prettiest girl in New York. I’m a lucky bastard,” Mat told me energetically before flopping onto the bed once more, curling himself around my legs.
“Ah, ah, before you get too comfortable, sit up and take these,” I told him, dumping two Advil into my hand from the bottle I kept in my nightstand and offering him the medicine and my Yeti. He clumsily sat up on his haunches, throwing the pills back and taking a long sip of water. He smacked his lips and let out a dramatic, “ahhhh!” This man was on quite the roll comedically.
Mat immediately fell back to the mattress, wrapping his long arms all the way around my waist and nuzzling his head into my chest. I reached to turn off the light once more as he said, eyes closed, “Thanks for taking care of me, pretty girl. I really love you.”
My heart warmed, and I was struck not for the first time by how special he always made me feel, even when he was impossibly drunk.
“I really love you too, Matty,” I whispered, pulling the throw blanket from the bottom of our bed up to cover Mat’s long and broad form, before snuggling under the comforter myself.
“I’m so glad,” he whispered, his breathing already starting to slow into sleep.
dededos
prguitarman
kianamaiart
izzy806
tangentwithtanner
