We piled into the taxi still clutching half consumed drinks and laughing.
I'd ended up on a boys university reunion somehow and had done my best to keep up with their drinking and antics. I was wasted and couldn't handle a club so we decided to continue the party at mine.
Although I'd been really close friends with one for years, the other three I had only just met. So, when my friend gave up around 6am to go home and sleep I was left with his pals. One of them slipped upstairs, I assumed to use the bathroom. After nearly an hour I realised he hadn't returned so I skipped up the stairs to investigate.
The door to the bathroom was open. He definately wasn't there. Going into my bedroom I discovered him in his boxers spreadeagled on my bed. Fast asleep. Giggling, I snapped a quick photo and ran back downstairs to show his mates.... Now also fast asleep on the sofa.
I was very tired myself, I debated what to do. I wanted to sleep in my bed. Alone. So I decided to try move him. I wasn't sharing with a stranger. I shook him gently at first. Grabbed him by his stubbly chin and shook his head from side to side. Nothing. There was zero chance he was waking.
I climbed into my bed I tried rolling him over. He wouldn't budge. I sat astride him shaking him more and playfully slapped his face. With my arms crossed in defeat, I decided, fine, I'm just going to curl up in a corner.
Now apparently he wasn't sleeping as deeply as I thought. As I slid off him, head just about to hit the pillow I felt his hand creep across my waist and his body move in to spoon me closely.