Jay | John - Early Tuesday Morning

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'The average, healthy, well-adjusted adult gets up at seven-thirty in the morning feeling just plain terrible.' -Jean Kerr-

Of course, Jay didn't leave the keys on the coffee table, just in case John got stupid and misplaced them, so instead he hung onto them and giving him more reason to show up at seven in the morning bearing hangover gifts.
 
It didn't stop him from knocking first before entering and heading straight for John's room, an additional knock given before he walked in. "Wakey Wakey princess."

It would surprise Jay to find that John was already awake and already dressed for work even. Only he hadn't quite gotten his tie on right. It seemed there were far more important things to do. Like nursing a bad headache for example.

John had his face pressed into a pillow. No, he wasn't attempting to kill himself. He was just trying to get rid of the urge to vomit.

"Oh boy," Jay said, his tone bouncy. "Must be packin' one hell of a punch there," he said as he sat down on the bed and set the bag with drink down on the side table. "You gonna live?" he asked, placing his cool hand on John's back.

Loud. Too loud. John groaned and flipped Jay the finger. He needed to focus, to stay very still. It was the only way he could make sure the contents of his stomach stayed put.

"Well that's a good sign. Dead but still able to tell me off." He leaned over, opening the bag and fished out two pills, then fetched the Mcdonald's cup and leaned over beside John. "C'mon lover boy, wake up and take these. You'll be able stomach the Micky D's Ah brought."

The mention of food didn't work to rouse his appetite but he figured he'd better try to suck it up and take the offered pills or he would be late for his meeting at nine. "Why did you let me drink so much?" he asked through gritted teeth. Right. Blame anyone else but himself. That was the responsible thing to do.

Forcing himself to sit up, John took the pills, stuffed it in his mouth and swallowed.

"Fuck." It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Jay passed the drink, shaking it for John to take - vodka and OJ, a nice mix to remedy the self inflicted punishment. "Don't put this on me. Ah tried to stop three times, then you got all bitchy at me. Ah don't suppose ya remember when Ah got you in bed, you tried to take me with you."

He took a sip and made a face. "Don't even start." He couldn't remember a thing from last night. John leaned against the headboard and took another swallow of the drink. "The car... It's parked in the garage?" Angelo would kill him if it so much as got scratched.

Jay was still grinning. Of course, John hadn't done that but it was fun to pick at him there. "Havin a drunkard's paws all over me don't do nuttin, but Ange's car is impounded. Wherever we left it, went back and it was gone. Took a cab, don't ya remember?"

John's face had gone from a sickly ash-gray to white and he was staring at Jay as if he'd just told him that his father had rose from the dead.

"What?"

Jay blanked his face and gestured back. "What? You need me to spell it out for you?"

He shook his head, slowly. "No." The no was more of a denial of what he'd just heard.

"... Are you fucking serious?"

Jay broke. "No," he shook, racked with laughter and got up, pulling out the McDonalds breakfasts.

John was deadly silent as he clenched his fists together, trying very hard to quell the urge to kick the living shit out of Jay. Not that there was any reason for him to be afraid of Angelo. He was sure he could just fake being deathly ill for a few days and Ange would forgive him anything.

Probably. He had yet to test that theory out.

"Here," he chucked the sandwich in John's lap. "Quit makin' that face at me. It was a joke John."

"Yeah. Fucking hilarious." John practically scowled. He took the sandwich but couldn't muster the appetite for it so he dumped it into his bag and opted to finish his drink instead. He'd eat later.

John's eyes were blood shot, his face was pallid and he looked like he was about to keel over any minute now. It wasn't fair how Jay could look the way he did when they'd both had no more than three hours of sleep at the most.

"Yanno, if you eat, you'll feel better," he gestured. Jay did look happy, healthy but that was probably because he slept during the day whenever he could and worked late at night. So last night was just another typical hours concerning sleeping for him. The extra three hours was additional to the eight hours he'd had the previous night. "John, do ya want me to drive ya to work?"

His frown deepened. "Do I look like I need h--" He stopped and shook his head not bothering to finish that sentence. "Angelo's driving." That is, if the guy hadn't left already post finding out that John had taken his car out for a drive last night without telling him. Fuck. He'd better hurry.

He grabbed his jacket and his bag and once he'd stood up - found his center of balance - reminded himself to keep his chin up and to not look down for fear of upchucking - he did something that was all too weird and unlike him.

In an offhand manner, he ruffled Jay's hair. "Thanks."

And with that, he left.