Oliver mumbled sleepily, trying to get an arm around his pillow to make it stop moving, but it slipped away from him and Oli ended up with his face mushed into the mattress. Only it turned out that it was the couch, rather than a mattress, when he finally blinked his eyes open two minutes later. He needed another two minutes to remember where he was and while he felt so terribly blah. Strictly speaking he had a hangover, though by far not the worst he'd ever had, which was good, but not all that much of a great sign, either. Oliver rolled onto his back in order to get up and then decided against it. There was no reason to move and agitate his head any further.
"Perce?" he croaked, hearing sounds from upstairs. It was likely that Percy didn't hear him, but Oli tried again anyway.
After lifting his head a bit to look down at himself Oliver noted that he was still in his slacks from the night before, though he had obviously managed to take off his shoes before crashing. The white shirt he'd worn the night before had the top three buttons open and he couldn't remember where he'd left his jacket and tie. The best thing was he could still remember everything that had happened the night before, which was definitely positive.