The world would be a lot better off if the two of you had never met.

You're both idiots, just him less so. He wouldn't have even been an idiot if you hadn't dragged him into your delinquency. But what's passed is passed, and you're both awful.

Speaking of your mutual awfulness, you two spent the midnight hours of last night drinking whatever shitty liquor you could get your hands on, and now you happen to be paying the price.

When you woke up, the headache hit you like a semi-truck. It took literally all of your strength not to start puking the moment you opened your eyes. Thankfully, though, you made it to the bathroom, where you proceeded to vomit up everything you'd eaten in the past who-knows-how-long in the span of ten minutes.

After getting that hot mess over with, you changed and went back to your couch, where Five was still asleep. Not for long, because you decided poking him was a fun thing to do. As soon as he woke up, he looked like he was about to cuss you out, before his expression changed considerably, and he shoved you off the couch to go puke.

Leading the two of you to where you are now. Your bathroom, again. You're standing behind him and absentmindedly running your hand through his hair, in hopes that's at least a little bit comforting, while he's retching into the toilet.

"Oh, god, this is disgusting," he mumbles, pulling his head back and wiping his mouth.

"Absolutely," you agree with a nod.

He stands up, flushing the vomit down the toilet before going to wash his hands in the sink. "God, that was fucking awful," you hear him mutter to himself.