~300 words :: Jude Law/Ewan McGregor :: 4/21/06
The bathroom greets him with the acrid smell of vomit and Ewan’s snoring.

Jude wakes to the sound of retching, but the fact that his bladder’s about to burst is probably what actually woke him up. His head hurts when he moves and he only moved like two inches, if that. There’s no way he can make it all the way to the toilet.

It’s light out, he can tell without even opening his eyes – which he’s scared to do because it’ll hurt even more then. Instead he feels around on the bedside table in hopes that there’s an empty beer bottle or maybe a Coke can, but aside from the lamp, the clock, and a couple of paperbacks, all he finds is something greasy and squishy that feels suspiciously like a used condom.

Fucking Ewan. How fucking hard is it to bin the damn things when there’s a bin not two feet away?

Now there’s a thought. Could he piss in the bin? Cracking one eye open, he peers muzzily at the rubbish overflowing onto the floor. No, that’s obviously not going to work.

He groans and rolls onto his back. It doesn’t make him any more comfortable, in fact, he thinks it’s even worse now. All he wants to do is go back to sleep. It’s not fair.

Holding his head in his hands, he slides out of bed and stumbles down the hallway. The bathroom greets him with the acrid smell of vomit and Ewan’s snoring, and he steps over Ewan and into a puddle of sick, nearly throwing up himself.

“Why you pissin’ in my room?” Ewan mumbles.

After a few moments, Jude shakes himself dry, squints down at Ewan. “Because the toilet’s in here.”


Wiping his foot off on Ewan’s belly on the way out, Jude shuffles back to his bedroom. He climbs gingerly back into bed and thinks about reaching down to pull up the covers, but falls asleep before coming to a decision.