Don't leave me loving you [karlnap]

17

There was something incredibly good about waking up snuggled up to someone else. Karl would probably appreciate it more if it weren't for the fact that his state was dangerously close to death. Or at least it was in his head. Because the hangover that hit him with a wave of heat was so terrible that the only thing he could think about was the spinning in his head and the strange, uneasy feeling in his stomach.

He didn't vomit, but he got up from bed feeling a bit lost, looking around Nick's room and at the owner himself, who was sleeping like a log. Water and pills were very telling on the nightstand next to the bed and Karl really wanted to cry with happiness as he took two and drank half a bottle of water, then holding onto his still pulsating head, he got up and walked somewhat uncertainly with his clothes to the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as a mouse. He needed to freshen up as soon as possible. He finally decided on a short, cold shower to wake up and wash off the disgusting layer of sticky sweat. But even that and a few minutes of rinsing his mouth with mouthwash didn't give him a completely clear mind, so he couldn't really sneak out of the apartment and go back to his own. He put on the clothes from the previous day and, not wanting to wake Nick up, went to the living room to open the window, let in some fresh air and sit there with a glass of water and no desire to live anymore. It was a bit more energizing, so eventually Karl decided to clean up after yesterday, as all the bottles, plates and other things cluttered up the entire living room. He had to focus on something other than his own suffering.

That's why Luke, hearing the running water in the kitchen as he headed to the bathroom, looked in to see who wasn't sleeping.

"Karl?" he said, somewhat disoriented, seeing that the guy was washing dishes.

Karl looked at him absentmindedly.

"Oh, good morning," he replied, his voice rough.

"What are you doing up at this hour?" the blond asked quietly.

"Well, I haven't sobered up yet, so I can't really go home," he replied, more hoarsely than usual.

"Well... I meant why aren't you sleeping and washing dishes instead," Punz replied significantly. "We have dishwasher."

"I need to detach myself from my own suffering, don't ask," he muttered.

"Okay. Since you put it that way," he said, looking at him weirdly. "I'm going to take a shower, and you... keep washing."

So Karl actually spent the next fifteen minutes scrubbing all the glasses, and other tableware, before finally going to wipe down the sticky table in the living room and then tackling the counters with a pained expression when Punz returned from the shower.

"You look a bit dead," he admitted, looking at the slumped-over figure, that only shook his head.

"I feel like I'm still drunk and hungover at the same time," Karl replied with a sigh. "I'm never drinking again."

Punz just snorted at the empty words that everyone repeated after every time they got too much booze the night before.

"You need breakfast and you'll feel better," Luke decided, opening their fridge, which seemed strangely empty now that it no longer had alcohol bottles stuffed in every nook and cranny. "What do you want to eat?"

"A pill that will kill me," Jacobs responded dramatically, looking into the fridge with the other. "But seriously, I can make us avocado toast and bacon and eggs."

"Maybe you should sit down and I'll make it," the man suggested calmly.

"No, no," he muttered. "I need to do something, because time passes too slowly when I'm just sitting here."