The following morning crushed on Aidan like the punishment he deserved, and might have actively, if not fully consciously, sought out the previous night. Light, far too bright and intrusive, flooded his vision even beyond his close eyelids, instantly activating the hammering headache that was only waiting for a chance to shine. Aidan groaned and tried scurrying away from it, though feeling around the bed only produced one measly pillow, and burying his face in it did very little to make the pain go away.

He whimpered weakly and tossed it aside, stumbling out of bed only to immediately trip over the blanket and the rest of the pillows that stalked him right at his feet. It was by some kind of miracle he didn’t fly head first into the door he was blindly feeling for before finally escaping into the blissful darkness of the hallway. For a moment, the world was almost still again. Aidan leaned against the wall and took a deep inhale, trying to make it come to a full stop, when he smelled it. A comforting sweet scent coming from the kitchen. It made his feet move on their own again, over cold tiles, down the hallway, towards the, mercifully, much softer light coming from its end. It still made him squint as he felt his way to the kitchen, though he could see the general outline of Chris standing in it, looking, annoyingly, not even a little close to death.

“Why are your windows so big?” He groaned, voice gravely with more than just sleep, and stumbled into one of the chairs at the breakfast bar. 

“Because size does matter?”

Aidan let out another low growl as he rested his forehead on his arm. It felt as though someone was trying to chisel a marble sculpture from the inside of his skull with a jackhammer. If only they succeeded, at least it would stop. A soft tap next to his ear made him crack an eye open. Chris was standing over him, still in his PJs but completely alert, holding onto the cup of coffee he put next to him. He smiled softly.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, though at the very least he had the decency to sound apologetic. “I tried closing the blinds but you wouldn’t let me. Threatened you’ll shave my head while I sleep.”

“You should know better than to listen to drunk idiots. And stop being so vain, it’s just hair. It would have grown back.” Aidan propped himself up and reached for the coffee, letting out a blissful sigh at the first hit of caffeine to his system. He took another sip before throwing a curious glance behind Chris.

“What are you making?”

“French toast. I figured you won’t really be into the whole egg white omelet with spinach thing.”

“You hate spinach.”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant to the discussion,” he hummed and turned back to the stove. Aidan really wanted to say something about not using him as a beard for his culinary choices, though he voted against it. Both because he was worried if he opened his mouth something more than words would come out and, well, because what Chris was working on did smell pretty amazing. Enough to make his mouth water and his stomach to grumble in anticipation.

Aidan lifted his coffee to his lips again as a comfortable silence wrapped the kitchen, interrupted only by the soft sizzling of the oil and the soft clanking of the pan and spatula. He really overdid it last night, he thought, letting out a soft sigh and rubbing his temple. Even just trying to piece back together everything that happened was a challenge. He wasn’t sure at exactly what point things started to become so blurry, though he suspected it was probably around the time he drank almost a full bottle of wine himself. Definitely by the time he finished half of the second one. He was pretty sure he didn’t do anything embarrassing like throwing up on Chris or going into a long rant about how he would have been a much better option than Leah, but it still felt like there was something else, important, that he was missing.

“So I figured after we eat you should take a shower.” Aidan blinked in Chris’ direction the moment he began speaking. His back was still turned to him, his attention focused mostly on the food. “Then I could drop you off at work on my way. There might be some traffic, but it’ll still be fine if you get in a little after nine right?”

Huh.

Aidan’s eyebrows knitted together and his lips pushed down into a frown. Chris’ voice sounded… familiar. Well, of course it sounded familiar. He would have rolled his eyes at himself if he could do so without his head exploding. That wasn’t the point. But it was like hearing it made something from last night to latch onto the thin veil that separated his subconsciousness from his more conscious memory, slowly materializing on its other side, forming into something that was not quite here nor there.

“Aidan?” Chris turned around holding a bowl of fresh strawberries, though he froze in place when his eyes landed on him. “What’s wrong? You need to throw up?”

“No I…” that weird, nagging image was almost enough for him to forget all about his hangover. It just felt so real. Aidan’s eyebrows pushed even closer together as he brushed his thumb back and forth across his mug. “Sorry I think I had a really weird dream. I just… I could have sworn you told me you love me.”

“Oh.”

Oh? Aidan’s fingers froze as he looked up. Chris was leaning against the counter, an expression that was somewhat surprised, but much more so contemplative on his face. Almost like he was taking what he just said seriously. He put down the strawberries, his eyes returning to meet Aidan’s gaze, simple, steady and sincere, and for just a moment a flash of something uncomfortable, like dread or a bad omen, fluttered through his chest.

“I did.”