Summary: John wakes up the morning after and needs a drink of water. He's too tired to do much right.
You wake up in the morning sleepy and heavy, your eyes feeling like they're glued together. You peel them open so you can open and close them with ease.
Your throat is raw and parched, and you try not to make any sounds. You really should tell Dirk not to be so rough, but you always feel amazing when he is, so you don't want to. Some water by your bedside would be nice though.
You pick up a random article of clothing and try to pull it on. It ends up being a pair of pants and you struggle to get them off your head. You grab a shirt your next attempt and pull it on, as well as a pair of boxers. The first and last time you walked around the apartment naked, Dave almost beat you to a pulp.
You stumble, bleary-eyed, out of his room, and make your way to the kitchen. You grope for a glass, nearly blind (and you just realize you forgot to put on your glasses, jeez you're a dumbass), and fill it up with tap water.
You slug your way to the couch and sit down, slouching in a way that would have made your piano teacher sick. You gulp down your water, moistening your cracked esophagus.
You finish your water quickly, but you're too tired to go back to Dirk's room. You fall to the side and drift off quickly.
When you wake up again it's evening, and Dirk is in the kitchen making something. His hair is dripping and there's a towel - your towel, you note - around his waist. Whatever he's making, it smells really good, especially to your starving stomach.
You roll to your feet and hobble over, practically falling on him as you hug him from behind and bury your face between his shoulder blades.
"Hi," you mumble. He chuckles.
"You look ridiculously adorable in my shirt," he comments, and you hadn't even noticed when you put it on. He hands you your glasses, and you slip them on, everything becoming instantly clearer.
"Thanks," you say tiredly. "I want food."
"It's almost done."
"I want it nooowww though."
You can hear the pout in your own voice. "Maybe if you shut up you'll get some," he says affectionately, bumping you on the head. You make a whining noise.
You eventually get your food, but you swear he goes as slow as possible.