you look so cold.

Matty's first reaction to waking up was to question what exactly happened. He remembered vaguely going with his mother to an event - what the event was had managed to escape his mind - but he knew that he had a chronic headache. Blindly crawling out of bed, he pulled on some random boxers that had found there way into his floor. When he noticed that they were a few sizes too big, he simply decided that they had to be George's, since that was the last of his mate's who was over. He thought, which isn't saying much since he hardly remembered anything. He made his way out of the room, occasionally pulling up the boxers since he was too lazy to change out of them, going to see Casper sitting in front of his food bowl. He cursed, wondering when the last time he fed him was, as he quickly put in two scoops of the cat food into the bowl without another thought. When he heard a mow of appreciation and felt the chubby cat rubbing against his legs, he decided that he was forgiven. Matty managed to make himself some tea for the morning, only to put some gin into it to hopefully rid of the ever pressing headache. After a few sips, he found the headache lessening as he walked back to his bedroom to retrieve his phone. He grabbed the device from his nightstand, only freezing when he saw someone who didn't belong there. "Fucking hell," he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared down at the body. He probably should have spent more time trying to remember what happened last night.

The sheer pain pulsing through his head was reaching unbearable limits, and he burrowed himself under the pillow even further, it having before resting against his forehead when he'd began waking up. He could tell from the stale taste of alcohol and greasy food in his mouth and the fact that his eyes were all but caked shut that he'd got rather drunk the previous night. The fact that it wasn't one of his customary migraines was a comfort for all of five seconds before his head flared further as he attempted to shift beneath the covers, the heat trapped in the nearly unbearable. He groaned softly, pulling the blankets up over his pillow to block out as much light as he could, hoping it would help. It was then that he really registered that the sun was coming in from an odd angle, and that the sheets he was buried in smelled like body odor and alcohol. He contemplated getting up and away from the bed that all but reeked and made his stomach flip if he breathed through his nose, but the barest of movement still caused pan to lance along his scalp and settle deep in his head. He gave up the idea of every moving again after that, deciding that he could put up with breathing through his mouth if it meant that he could stay as still as possibly. He took in steady breaths, trying to use his breathing techniques he'd learned long ago, keeping himself as still as he possibly could. It was working so well that soon he was drifting off to sleep once more, deciding that it wasn't worth the pain to figure out where he was right that moment.

Matty was slightly surprised by the movement and groaning that the guy managed to make. There was a split second where his eyes moved over to the blinds that he could easily close for the other, the sunlight directly shining over the bed due to the fact that they weren't closed all the way. When he had finally managed to reel over what was going on with the mystery man, the other was already out like a light once more. He went over to close to blinds fully, filtering out the light that may disturb the hungover man when he woke up again. It was slightly disgusting to see the man have his face burrow in the sheets, having no recollection of the last time anyone came over to his house and actually helped him get everything cleaned up, which included washing his sheets. He decided it could be worse for the other, he could have pissed the bed at one point. He looked between the sleeping figure, which it was just a figure now made up of his sheets, and his cell phone. He decided the smartest thing to do would be to call George, pleading for him in a whisper to come and deal with whoever managed to find his way into Matty's bed. The response he got was to hold on, since he was far too fucked up to get out of the house himself, he would call Ross and have him come investigate further. Matty sighed, running a hand through his hair as he thought about what he could do to help the guy in his bed. He decided the least he could do, he supposed, was make him a cup of tea. After ten minutes of lazily compiling a cup of tea without any alcohol, mostly sugar and milk, he went back to his room with Casper hot on his tail. He settled the tea down on the nightstand, nudging the man as he also let two paracetamols sit next to the mug. "Wake up, mate," he said, anxiety and giddiness surrounding him at the idea of having to confront someone who should have made their way out a long while ago in his mind.

Ben groaned as he was jostled from the side, and he twisted to the side to move from whatever it was that had decided to pester him during possibly the worst migraine of his life. His eyes blinked open slowly, brain taking just moments to catch up to exactly what was happening and he sat up, the pillow falling down his back from his sudden partially vertical position. "Fuck," he bit out, hands going to press hard against the sides of his head in a futile attempt at stopping the pain and the swimming of his vision. He looked behind him to where he'd heard a voice and came face to face with a man he couldn't seem to place. He sat staring at him for a long moment, taking in the unruly smattering of curly sitting on top of his head and the boxers that seemed to be just barely clinging to his slim hips, the fact that he had nothing else on. "Sorry, God, sorry, yeah, this definitely isn't my apartment, huh?" He asked, giving a nervous grin to the man who was still standing to the side of the bed just looking at him. "Yeah, I should get out of your bed, you probably want me gone. Yeah, I'll just," he said, pulling the blankets free from himself, his head pounding ever few seconds as he gingerly pulled himself out of the covers. He sat down cross-legged in the spot he'd managed to clear, his head in his hands as he tried to control his stomach that was currently roiling. "Sorry, head's really killing me, the rooms spinning a bit," he explained, hoping the man would allow him a moment to make sure we would throw up whatever was still in his stomach. He finally stood up, blinking his burning eyes as he attempted to right himself. It took him a little while to realise he was just standing there staring at the underwear the man had on. "Uh, those are mine," he stated dumbly before shaking his head, realising his wasn't all that fond of the thought of putting them back on after they'd been on someone else. "But that's okay, that would be rude of me, to demand those back? You can figure out what to do with them, right?" He asked, running a hand through his hair, finding it still in the low bun he'd put it in the night before, though the shorter hairs that always came loose were swaying in his face. He searched around for his pants, finding them and the rest of his clothes scattered around the end of the bed. "But, do you have any Advil?" He asked, pulling his pants on and hurriedly fastening them, putting his dress shirt on and beginning to button it up.

Matty was slightly surprised as the man awoke, which was stupid to assume that he wouldn't wake up when his arm dug slightly into his side. He allowed himself to chuckle slightly, nodding head head. "Yeah, mate, sorry. I can't really remember what happened," he admitted, feeling ridiculous for having no recollection at all as to what truly transpired the night before. He felt bad for the other, who seemed to be having some trouble even getting out of the bed. He went to reach for the cup and pills before he realised that the other probably didn't want his hands touching the pills which made him retract his hands. Matty looked down when the other said that those were his underwear, blinking dumbly. "Oh, shit. I thought these were my friend's," he said, about to take them off before he was told that he could keep them. He shrugged, wondering why the man even cared if they had sex the previous night. It was just underwear, after all. He still wasn't quite too sure about when he should interject that he had pain killers on hand along with some tea, but decided that he would keep quiet until the other asked. He pointed to the nightstand when the question finally did come from the other, offering a small smile. "You hungry? I mean, I can get us some food, not much in the kitchen though," he said, about to go text Ross to pick up some food on the way. The least he could do was be nice to the other, since he did seem to be in a bit of pain. "Also, the shower is free, don't know if you'd wanna shower, but you're already dressed," he said, knowing that it was a bit late to offer up his shower. He decided that it was probably his fault that the other was over there, so the least he could do was offer up the rest of his house for a few hours until everything was set.