Gotou was pretty sure that there was a fully-grown African bull elephant trapped inside his skull. There wasn't anything one could take for that, so he laid with his face mostly on the pillow as his head throbbed in time with every tick of the clock on the wall.(more)
He needed to get up. If he got up, the pain in his head would diminish, he could take a few painkillers, maybe throw up everything he'd consumed in the last twenty-four and feel maybe just a little less like he'd been stomped on directly by Godzilla.
The new one, not the man in the rubber suit. Although that thought started scrolling uncontrollably toward the mental image of men in ridiculous suits and that, of course, led directly into how unflattering spandex really was and how the /fuck/ could Masayoshi be attractive dressed up as a Flamenger.
Those costumes left /nothing/ to the imagination.
Gotou smirked into his pillow and then caught himself and dug the heel of one palm into his eye, trying to eliminate that thought and any others that might slip through. As he rolled, the clatter of empty beer cans hitting the floor drew his attention away from the Gay Thoughts He Apparently Had That Drinking Did Nothing To Assuage.
Gotou looked at all the cans. Did he really drink all of that, alone? No wonder it felt like his head was going to implode.
The memory cut through the fog that was the previous night; Masayoshi's text reply, curt and brief and sounding so unlike Masayoshi that it made his chest hurt. He turned his head, looked at his cell phone sitting on the table by an overturned empty can of beer and tried to remember the last time he'd seen Masayoshi's genuine smile.