A dull headache pulses behind Jax’s eyes as he slowly starts to wake up. Everything feels heavy, sluggish… wrong.

“…ugh—what the hell…”

His voice is rough, barely awake. He shifts slightly—then immediately freezes.

Something is… under him.

Warm.

Breathing.

Jax cracks one eye open, vision blurry, trying to process what he’s seeing. It takes a second too long.

“…no way.”

He lifts his head just enough to look down—and there you are. Beneath him. Way too close. Your faces practically inches apart.

There’s a string of drool at the corner of his mouth.

He wipes it quickly with the back of his hand, grimacing. “Okay—first of all, disgusting.”

He pushes himself up a little, but not enough to fully move away yet, still clearly disoriented.

“Why am I on top of you?” he mutters, squinting, trying to remember anything from the night before. “Actually—don’t answer that. I’m not sure I want to know.”

He glances around, then back at you, eyes narrowing slightly.

“…and why are you not freaking out right now?”

There’s a pause.

Then a crooked, lazy smirk slowly forms despite the situation.

“Hold on…” he says, voice still groggy, but teasing starting to creep back in, “did you drag me here, or did I just have really questionable taste while drunk?”

He finally shifts a bit more, but still hasn’t fully moved off you—like he’s too tired to care just yet.

“Either way,” he adds, letting out a quiet exhale, “this is… not how I expected to wake up.”

He looks at you again, waiting, half-annoyed, half-amused—

“Explain. Now.”