love in real estate

chapter 6; headache

kris woke up with a pounding headache in a soft bed. a bed that definitely wasn't his.
it was warm and comfortable, the soft mattress enveloping his small body. the white button up he was wearing the day prior was crumpled and half open, and he definitely wasn't wearing pants. the headache cut through any concern of where he (or his pants) might've been.
kris' memory of the night before was blurry and vague, he remembered drinking and joking and never have i ever, but nothing after. brian must've let him sleep over.

he sat up, his head throbbed and pounded. he need water, some ibuprofen, and to thank brian. wrapping a blanket around himself, kris started to make his way to the stairs.

from the top he could hear faint humming and could smell coffee. then he remembered brian. kris remembered brian's coffee, he remembered his favor for colorful furniture, he remembered the taste of his lips. kris went red, paralyzed at the top of the stairs. he was stuck, he couldn't even leave, not without his goddamn pants at least, in fact for the first time he wanted to know why they were gone. he had to go downstairs, he had to talk to the guy who hours earlier had his pierced tongue in kris' mouth.

painstakingly, he lifted his feet from the plush carpet, creating a story in his head. he would feign ignorance, pretend the alcohol had wiped it all out -only half a lie- and thank brian for letting him stay over. then he'd find his pants and never come back.

by the time he was fully down the short staircase kris had mostly calmed down, returning to a relativity normal color. all until he saw brian, standing in the kitchen with his back to him, and it all came back. trying to push down the intense anxiety and ignore the memory of brian's cold metal piercing in his mouth, he cleared his throat, the sound split his skull.

brian turned around sharply "oh hey! good morning" he smiled. "i bet you have a pretty gnarly hangover so i'll be quiet but i made eggs" he gestured vaguely to the pan on the stove.

there was a glass of water on the table next to 2 small reddish pills. kris hurriedly walked over, immediately sat down and threw them back, chugging the water to wash them down. a small breathy laugh cut through his relief. kris put down the glass and glared at brian.

"sorry," brian whispered "you just looked really cute sorry i'll be quiet"

once again the redness kris had managed to escape momentarily, returned. follow quickly by another small quiet laugh. kris just put his head down, the bright lights were beginning to overwhelm him and the ibuprofen hadn't done shit yet.

brian reached for kris' glass, refilling it before he put it back and turned off the lights. quietly, he put a plate next to the cup and walked into the living room. he turned off the lights in there and sat down on a now dimmed orange couch.

kris sat up and drank more water. he was so fucked.

AN-
damn this chapter took a bit