Jason really didn't like weddings. He had gone to a wedding last night. He's pretty sure he hated it. He can't be certain - he can't quite remember anything past the gazillion shots he took on a dare. He hated weddings. He liked being drunk just fine, but he hated the inevitable hangover that would come after.

That's the phase you're currently in - hangover. It's almost embarrassing how obvious it is that he's hungover, but his head hurts and the lights are loud and he's angry at the world, so he doesn't care. When he had woken up, he'd all but stumbled his way straight to the medicine cabinet for some aspirin. Now, he sits in the kitchen, resisting the urge to throw out every pot and pan that has ever existed within the space of your apartment because you're cooking and if he hears that spatula scrape against anything again, he's pretty sure his head will explode.

He pushes his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose as you plate some food and serve it. He eats like a man starved, being almost obnoxiously careful that his fork doesn't scrape against his plate or his teeth. He hears you open your mouth to start talking, but he interrupts with a finger on your lips. “I already know what you're going to say. I. Don't. Want. To. Know. Don't talk about anything I did last night, Don't show me anything I did last night, Don't tell anyone else about what I did last night.”

He rolls his eyes as his request is ignored and you shove your phone into his hands. His first reaction is confusion, because - “Why is Dick on the table? Why- Is that me? Why the f-ck am I doing the worm? Why the f-ck would you let me do the worm?” He pushes his sunglasses up his nose to try to scrutinize the video better, but they fall right back into place because your phone is so bright.

He shoots you a glare that might've been intimidating if you didn't have crystal clear video evidence of him doing the worm. “Delete that. Get rid of that, like, right now.”