The problem with drinking too much is the morning after. Some people drink more to chase away the inevitable. Others have pills or folk remedies. Still others responsibly eat and drink water while indulging.

Chanyeol is one of those blessed individuals who sleep and wake up perfectly refreshed.

Kyungsoo is one of those cursed to be miserable, responsibility and caution be damned.

Thankfully, his boyfriend is aware and careful the morning of the new year. When he wakes up and rolls out of bed, he quickly pulls the covers back over Kyungsoo’s head and tugs the curtains just a little tighter together. It’s a beautiful day, cloudless and sunny, setting off sparkles over the thin layer of snow that fell overnight.

The dogs woof their greetings, dancing for their breakfast. Even the tap tap tap of little nails are like tiny jackhammers pounding into his temples and setting of sparks of ember that smolder behind his eyelids.

“Shhh!” Chanyeol hisses. “I’m working as fast as I can, but Daddy’s not feeling good!” he whispers. Ink and Pepper tilt their heads, finally sensing something’s not right. They look at the closed bedroom door, and Ink takes a few steps towards it before Chanyeol scoops him off the floor. “Not just yet,” he says. “Let Daddy sleep.”

Please, Kyungsoo moans to himself, let me die, first. With the throbbing in his head and twisting in his gut, he can’t get comfortable. It’s nicer in the big warm spot Chanyeol left, at least, but it’s not enough to lull him back to sleep.

In the kitchen, Chanyeol feeds the dogs and texts his usual dog walker for an emergency pick up to get the dogs all out to potty and run off some energy and sees them off within ten minutes. He tries to make breakfast as quietly as possible, wincing with every crack of an egg, spit of bacon, and pop of the toaster. With a big bottle of water under his arm and a couple of Aspirin beside some slices of crystallized ginger on one of the two plates on food, he peers into his bedroom and slips inside, closing the door with his .

Kyungsoo grunts at the noise and curls into a tighter ball.

“Sorry,” Chanyeol whispers. “I made breakfast.”

“ off and die, Park.”

“I have painkillers and water.” A pale arm slithers from the covers, reaching blindly. Kyungsoo has to sit up to drink, and Chanyeol lifts the blankets to look into his boyfriend’s bloodshot, bleary eyes. “Morning.”

“You did this to me…”

“I tried warning you to take it easy.”

Kyungsoo obediently takes a plate of food and bites into a piece of ginger. “You must’ve made them too strong. I feel absolutely terrible.”

“I made them how it said.” Chanyeol defends himself and his integrity; he would never purposely get his boyfriend drunk. Because he knows he’ll have to deal with this monster later. It’s not worth the night of drunken . “You did drink more than I did. Two glasses on your own and then most of my second.” He’d take it as a compliment of his bartending skills, if Kyungsoo wasn’t so miserable.

He’s still really cute like this, though. Chanyeol can’t say so, though, unless he wants a lapful of hot eggs and bacon, so he just perches beside his scowling partner and eats his own breakfast while watching out of the corner of his eye.

Kyungsoo drills his bacon into the yoke of his eggs until they’re torn and empty of goopy yellow sunshine. He wishes he could do the same with his brain. It probably wouldn’t taste as good.

“Hey!” Chanyeol holds his plate at arm’s length when Kyungsoo scoops another piece of bacon into his remaining egg. “I made you your own!”

“The yoke is already gone, and I’m in pain. Are you really going to deny me this simple pleasure?”

They both enjoy cooking and understand that the appearance is part of the whole process. It’s one of those impermanent art forms, though, and he’ll make prettily plated eggs once again, he’s sure.

“I’ll show you simple pleasure,” he mumbles, letting Kyungsoo destroy his food.

“Not now, I have a headache.”

Chanyeol’s coffee nearly comes out of his nose, but he can only laugh at the look Kyungsoo gives him, more disgusted than concerned.

“Oh,” he sighs when he can breathe again, “that felt awful.”

“So don’t do that.” Kyungsoo finishes poking the egg yokes full of holes and starts stripping the thin, crispy edges off. “I didn’t say anything particularly funny.”

“That’s your charm, Soo. Effortless comedy.” He frowns at his plate in Kyungsoo’s hands. “If you were that hungry, I’d have made more…” Looking a little guilty, Kyungsoo offers the remnants but is denied with a polite wave. “Finish it. I’m not nearly as hungry.”

Kyungsoo must be feeling better; he lets the blankets fall around his shoulders and squints more than glares. He draws up his legs and chews the last of Chanyeol’s breakfast with his chin on his knees.

“Thank you for making this.”

“Anytime. Should I make more?” Kyungsoo shakes his head. “I’ll wash these later,” he says softly, passing them to Chanyeol to take to the kitchen. He finishes his water, and Chanyeol brings another bottle when he returns.

It should be a while before the dogs return. The dog walker usually texts, anyway, so Chanyeol closes his bedroom door and crawls under the covers with Kyungsoo. “You okay with company, my hungover honey?”

“As long as you’re quiet.” Kyungsoo slithers down the mattress and slings a leg over Chanyeol’s, cuddling close. A warm hand pushes up the back of his T-shirt and rests below his shoulder blades, rubbing gentle circles and setting off little sparks that tingle down his spine, a little ticklish. The movement stops with a light warning pinch, and the hand lays passively, just as warm.

Kyungsoo kisses Chanyeol’s chest and smiles at the responding squeeze. Sometimes, it’s just nice to be pampered.

---

a/n: I don't drink, so I've never experienced any type of hangover, but I've heard they're quite awful. I didn't know about ginger being good for them and preventing vomiting, but it makes sense. I grew up with ginger ale as a cure for upset stomachs, although my mom and brother hate anything ginger. (I think ginger beer is better. Dunno what the difference is.)