Remedy [MxM]

Chapter 06: Bartenders Are Much Less Attractive When Covered in Vomit

This chapter was edited on 2/1/2016 and includes minor alterations. Enjoy!

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I couldn't remember anything when I woke up, which immediately tipped me off that whatever I'd done the night before, probably wasn't great. All I knew was that I was shirtless, and once again in a white room. Not the first time this has occurred, of course, so I was significantly less alarmed than I probably should've been. I glanced around, squinting when the bright light in the room hurt my head. I noticed that the sheets were off the bed, and so were the blankets, which was kinda weird. I also noticed that I was alone in the sheet-less bed, and that was just not acceptable.

Slowly I sat up, holding my head. The headache only increased, and I sighed quietly. And while I tried as hard as possible in my current state to remember, I had absolutely no clue what happened the previous night that would explain my being shirtless, the bed being bare, and waking up alone. So, I ventured out into the living room quietly, taking small shuffling steps. I assumed Chris had to be out there, it was unlikely for him to leave me in his apartment alone.

"Mhmm. Yeah. I guess. I have to work that night though, so. Yeah. I can, but I'd rather not. I just took a whole week of vacation. Because, Mom, I don't want to call out just because of some party. I don't even know who they are..."

The voice lead me into the kitchen, where Chris was standing with his cellphone held up to his ear. He was shaking his head as he spoke, but he didn't notice I was there until he glanced up.. "Mom. I gotta go. I'll talk to you later," he said, putting the phone down and looking back to me, raising an eyebrow. "Morning. Or afternoon, should I say. Sleep well?"

I frowned, looking to the clock on his stove to see that it was one in the afternoon. I had slept for, I'm guessing, about twelve hours. Fuck. Chris snorted, I'm assuming at my lack of response, and leaned on the counter. "I will say, out of all the ways I've been asked to sleep with people, last night's was the most interesting."

Oh, that sounded just great. I was probably a mess, walking in here and telling Chris we should sleep together while completely wasted. I closed my eyes for a second and exhaled. "What happened?" I asked quietly.

"Well," he began, looking down, "First you came here drunk off your ass, and started complaining about your, I'm assuming, ex-girlfriend. It was more of a jumble of 'how could she say that', and 'what a bitch', I couldn't exactly follow all of it. Then you pulled me into my bedroom and said we should sleep together because you were sad and I was, quote, 'adorable and in a shit relationship anyway'. So you managed to get your shirt off, and then violently threw up on both me and my bed."

I was sitting on the couch by the end of Chris' recount of last night, holding my head in my hands. "Fuck. I am, so sorry." I muttered. That was, well, that was embarrassing. I was good at holding my alcohol, so being told I'd just vomited all over someone? Not something I wanted to hear.

"I know. You wouldn't stop saying it last night."

I sighed as the couch shifted beside me, dropping my hands into my lap as Chris folding his own over his knee. "However, I will say that if you ever call me adorable again, I will cut your balls off and hang them on my wall."

Fucking sadist.

"I don't think Eliot would like another man's testicles on your wall." I mumbled back, hiding a small smile.

"Cheap shot."

I laughed a little at that, leaning back into the couch and exhaling.

"And you should stop drinking like that. You'll get alcohol poisoning." Chris added, making me look over to him and raise an eyebrow.

"Are. Are you worried about me? Aw Chris, that's so sweet." I said, smiling widely. Chris's response was to roll his eyes as he scoffed quietly, moving his arms to cross them over his chest.

"Go fuck yourself."

"Not really feeling it right now. Maybe later though, we'll see how I feel."

I got elbowed in the ribs for that one, making me groan quietly in pain. Chris being a little asshole I could handle a lot better than the more affectionate version, it was easier to figure out how I was supposed to respond. "Oh, you're such an asshole sometimes." I told him, getting a glare in response

It was an honest comment, even if Chris didn't seem to appreciate it. I took a second to rub my side before relaxing into the couch again, sighing up at the ceiling. Everything was so white, and the only really personal touch I'd seen so far was the picture of Eliot and Chris. And I was starting to get the feeling that it was placed there intentionally. Probably because Eliot wanted it there or something. That train of thought was mildly depressing though, so I cleared my throat and started talking. "So, what fun have you had today while I was unconscious?"

"None. Now get out. Eliot's coming over later. I don't need you here if he decides to be early." Chris mumbled. I frowned, and a question suddenly popped up.

"Hey Chris?"

"What?"

"Do you and Eliot have sex?"

Chris frowned at that, shifting a little uncomfortably before he stuttered a little on an answer. "T-that's not any of your business."

I shrugged as I stood up. "Just a question."

"Get out," he reminded me.

"Alright, alright. Jesus." I mumbled, holding up my hands as I walked back to the bedroom. The guy could be a real bitch sometimes.

I grabbed my shirt off the floor, pulling it over my head and pausing. I probably smelled like vomit, I realized with a small grimace. That's not a good smell. Nothing I could do about it until I got home though. Walking back to the living room, I noticed Chris wasn't on the couch anymore, and was instead standing by the door and apparently waiting for me.

"Pushy." I commented. He glared at that, opening the door for me. I was halfway through when I felt a hand on my arm, making me pause and look back to see Chris staring down at the floor.

"Don't, don't come over like that again. Without saying something, I mean. You can't do that," he told me seriously.

"Oh. Yeah, okay. I'm, sorry about that, again. I was really drunk, and it was just, a bad idea."

"Yes, it was." Chris agreed, gesturing out to the hall impatiently. I couldn't help but smile a little, crossing my arms over my chest as I looked at him.

"What? No goodbye kiss?" I asked.

Chris's answer to that was a harsh glare beforehe was closing the door on me, and I laughed as he slammed the door once I wasout of the way, heading down the stairs and out of the building.