Take It Slow [Sebastian Stan - M/M]

The Morning After

James scowled and rolled over, perfectly content with ignoring Nathan's sudden shouting, just as he usually did.

But as he nestled back into his hotel bed, the words shrieked at him finally registered.
Still half-asleep and ignoring Nathan's shell-shocked expression, James fumbled for a moment before reaching his hand behind him to the other half of the bed, blindly patting his hand about to check if Nate was telling the truth.

And sure enough his hand bumped lightly onto a thick coil of muscle, which upon further inspection turned out to be his best friend's upper arm. James blinked in surprise, quickly reaching to pull the covers up to check they were both still clothed.

Satisfied with the sweatpants they'd managed to crawl into and the shirt Sebastian had pulled on(Though it was inside out) the night before, James settled back into bed, not quite feeling like facing the world yet.

"Relax Nate," he mumbled, smirking gently as his eyes slid shut again. "No homo, bro."
Nathan nodded, his expression relieved but slightly disappointed. He'd never tell James, but he half-shipped the pair. Despite this, Nate still tutted at him.
"I can't believe you made me leave the last chapter on a cliffhanger for nothing."

"Wait, what?"

"Nothing, nothing."

At this point Sebastian stirred, the duo's banter managing to wake him, though James wished they hadn't.
The poor guy looked awful, his hair was a total mess, he was even paler than James, and it looked like the hangover could kill him at any second.

"Wh.. What happe'ed? Who's 'at?" Seb slurred, blue eyes only barely opening to glance around. He looked up at Nathan, who waved back and left to find the celebrity some water.
He then rolled over, only to recoil in shock as he bounced off the other male in the bed.

Confusion and panic quickly set in as his brain woke up to the situation.
"Oh Jesus," he croaked as he bolted up in bed. "We didn't.. Did we?"

Too tired to bother explaining, James simply whipped the covers off the bed completely, bare shoulders bouncing with laughter as Sebastian hurried to cover himself up, before finally realising he was clothed anyway.
"Nah pal," James chuckled. "You've escaped my clutches for another night." He threw in a wink, hoping to dispel any tension between them.

Sebastian laughed quietly, lazily patting James' shoulder before running his hands through his hair. Despite his obvious relief at not drunkenly sleeping around, he couldn't help but feel... Disappointed? Unsatisfied? No, that couldn't be it, he decided, it must've been that hangover that was still haunting him.
But still, he couldn't drop the feeling that he was expecting more to happen last night, though he couldn't even guess what it would be, since they were only friends, and he was definitely straight.

Right? Right.

Shaking his head to end those thoughts, Sebastian's brain decided to remind him of his head-splitting hangover instead. He hissed and curled up a little more, deciding since he was already there, he wasn't about to leave his friend's bed anytime soon.
James clucked his tongue in pity, he'd never had to deal with bad hangovers, and he didn't envy those who did.

Nathan reappeared at that moment, his presence not unlike an angel's in Sebastian's eyes as he swept in, water and aspirin in hand.
"Here ya go, lad. You rest up and we'll get breakfast ready." Nathan whispered kind-heartedly, his faint Scottish accent slightly thicker since his 'mum-at-the-ready' mode was fully activated as he gestured for James to follow him out.

Hauling himself onto his feet, James casually stretched his arms over his head, unknowingly showcasing the toned muscles of his shirtless back to the sickly Romanian, who didn't even realise himself that he was staring.

He smirked cheekily down at the suffering actor, putting on a high-pitched Scottish accent as he cooed sarcastically.
"Now stay in bed dear, let Mrs Doubtfire take care of you good 'n' proper- OW."

He ducked his head as the wooden spoon collided with his brow, Nathan standing by the kitchen counter looking unamused at the mockery.
"Alright, alright," James grumbled, collecting the spoon-turned-weapon as he shuffled out. "I'll go make breakfast for our patient then."