Dave woke up with a groan the next morning, a pounding in his head, and nausea tugging at his gut. "Fuck..." he muttered, feeling for his shades, only to find a mass next to him.
"...Eh?"
He ended up finding his shades, sliding them on and opening his eyes, turning a bright pink when he saw John next to him, sound asleep. He figured the other must have carried him back. "..God dammit!" he snapped, shame coming over him as he realized what he'd done last night. His shame was cut short by a headache, his vision blurring.
"Nn...Dave..."
Dave paused, looking down at John, who shifted in his sleep, a soft, tender smile on his pale lips. He looked so cozy, and warm, and perfect...
Suddenly he was jolted from his thoughts by his throat tightening and his stomach rolling around angrily. He took off his shades, and ran to the bathroom, gagging sounds coming from the bathroom as he heaved up what he'd eaten at the party last night. He felt like such an asshole.
Soft footsteps sounded from behind him, and he tensed up, but it wasn't like he could just stop an oncoming flow of vomit. A cool hand rubbed his back soothingly through the thin shirt he wore, the sound of cabinets opening and closing, followed by running water. Once his nausea passed, he felt the cool hand tilt his head, a damp rag cleaning off his face gently. He felt like such shit, he didn't even bother to protest.
He opened his eyes after a while, not surprised to see John. It meant nothing to him that he didn't have him shades on, hell, John probably already found out last night. "I'm s-" "Save it." John said softly, not sounding angry or cold in the least. "I know if I had said something you wouldn't have done it. I didn't say anything, I made it seem like it was alright. I know it was your bad choice, but I could have said something. I trust you enough to believe you would've stopped." Dave looked up at John wearily, letting out a long sigh.
"Thanks John."
"No problem, Dave. Your eyes are pretty cool too, by the way."
"You think so?"
"For sure."
Dave gave a small smile, letting John take him into his room and sit him on his bed, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders. "I have to go home, alright Dave? Hopefully I haven't gotten caught yet." he murmured, tossing the damp cloth into the hamper. "Right..I'll see you on the fire escape, right?" he asked. "I'll be out at four, alright? But make sure to get some rest, you idiot." he sighed, standing up and climbing back out the window, the sounds of him scaling the fire escape clearly heard from inside Dave's room.
John got into his room and climbed into bed as soon as he heard his father's footsteps coming down the hallway. He normally came in to wake him up with breakfast at eleven, thank God he'd woken up in time. His door creaked open, and his father poked his head in. "John?"
"Mmnph..."
"Son.."
"What?"
"Breakfast."
John sat up, nodding and rubbing at his eyes. His father looked at him, completely deadpan. "John I know you went out last night, and honestly, I don't care. I was gonna let you off the hook anyway." John raised an eyebrow and tilted his head in confusion. "What?" He didn't get it. If this was some sort of prank, it wasn't fucking funny. "I overreacted, and you're going through a lot of pressure, being in a new home, so you don't have to stay cooped up in your room anymore."
John's face lit up, and he stood, running to his father to divebomb him with a hug. "Thanks Dad!" he felt the excitement running through his veins. "Yeah yeah, come get breakfast." his father chuckled, shaking his head and leading him to the kitchen, John still bouncing off the walls. Things really were getting better.