Getting home drunk

I stopped at Wilson's little debate with the cab-driver, didn't I?
Well, he somewhat indignant and embarrassed took his hands off me and grabbed my cane, 'cause I "accidentally" hit him with it several times.
At the road's end he told the cab-driver to stop (I suppose he didn't want him to know where he really lives) and crossed the cab-drivers hand generously. He got out of the car first and opened the door for me, handing me the cane.
"Get out!", he barked and dragged me out of the cab.
The cab-driver leered and whished us a wonderful night, while I tried not to stumble and fall on my face. Wilson clenched his teeth and watched the cab leave.
"Why did you drag me out of the car like this?", I asked insulted.
"Why?! This jerk thought I was pawing you!!!"
"So what? It's not my fault."
"Neither mine!"
"Okay, so I have to suffer from your crossness...."
Wilson sighed. "I'm sorry..."
I snored and already was on my way to Wilson's place. We had to walk back quite a long way and it was not easy for me limping along the street rather drunk.
"Great idea to drop out at the end of the road", I griped.
Wilson tried to support me with his arm but I pushed him away. "Back off, people could think we were making out!"
Wilson averted his eyes. "Gregory, I'm sorry. Really. I didn't think that through..."
"Mmmpf..."

Finally we made it to his place and I slumped on his sofa. James thoughtfully got off my coat and then went to the fridge. "Another beer?", he asked.
I nodded. "Of course!"
He put the roses into a vase and took two Guinness out of the fridge. He came back with two glasses, poured the beer and settled at my side. We had some more pints this night and watched Wrestling on TV. "These fellas look so daft!", I chuckled, sipping the rest of my last pint. I had the impression it was time to go to bed now and tried to stand up, but stumbled, almost backflipped and landed with my head in Wilson's lap. Again I giggled and waved to him. "Whoops...Oi'm a bit tibbsssy", I managed to say and looked into his face. The vision blurred somewhat, then got clear again. "Yooo ah vurry bootyvull, Dshimm", I smirked shot in the neck.
James looked at me wide-eyed, then blinked. "You think so?"
I nodded with a foolish grin and tried to stand up again. Wilson helped me, although he was hardly able to stand on his own feet. I somehow managed to put on my pajama, crept under the blanket and got mental blackout from then on.

When I awoke, I had a terrible hangover and my shirt was missing. I groped for my cane and limped into the bathroom where showering helped to lift my spirits a little. Then I put on my pajama again (well, at least the trousers), brushed my teeth and afterwards walked into the kitchen, where Jim was already making breakfast, humming a little tune I recognized as Set me free by Jam & Spoon. I plumped heavily onto the chair and put my head in my hands. "Geez, this is God-awful....I feel terrible! You know where my shirt is? It was missing this morning."
James looked up and stopped humming. "Good morning, Greg", he smiled, then blushed. "Erm...your shirt..it's over there, on the sofa. I had to sew on its buttons again."
I looked at him surprised. "I lost every single button at once?"
He shrugged. "Um...yes...strange, isn't it?"
I nodded tired and got up to put on my shirt. "I'm glad I didn't puke all over your bed. Did I miss anything last night?"
"Ah", James smirked. "Just snuggling..."
I sat down again. "Snuggling??"
Wilson nodded. "What's up? Tear in a film?"
I sighed. "Seems so. Just snuggling? No snogging?", I grinned and Wilson gave a loud snort.
"No snogging. Just some little smacks on the cheek....or the temple..."
I closed my eyes to get a level head and suddenly a memory of Wilson drawing me towards him and cuddling me came to my mind. "Gosh!", I exclaimed. "I remember. You aren't joking!"
Wilson chuckled. "Nope. I'm not."
"Good Lord, we're such loveable drunks...But I'm glad it was just cuddling. I'd rather be sober when we're snogging or having sex", I grinned.
Wilson almost dropped his coffee when he went to the table. "Greg!!!", he cried. "You're absolutely impossible!"
"Whaaaaa...please...don't shout....", I moaned and had a sip of coffee. The coffee, scrambled eggs and toast helped me to almost get a level head and after breakfast I shuffled to the sofa, plumped on it and closed my eyes again to have a nap.

Later, Wilson took my keys and went to get my car. Monday we'd take his car from the restaurant's car park after work.