James didn't have to see what had happened behind him to know. The soft, swearing thud only left a few possibilities, after all. His smirk dragged up a bit, his mind awash in too many late nights, too many mornings after, too many blissfully exhausted instances that were paid for with fuck-awful mornings. Though, at least they usually had the help of potion to ease the transition.
"Princess Padfoot finally decide to wake up?" James said, his voice taking on a sing-song quality that he reckoned wasn't too grating for a hangover. Just grating enough. Turning, he leaned himself comfortably against the wall to take stock of his self-abused best friend. It was constructive, James reckoned. Totally necessary, sometimes, to put yourself through a little hell. Sometimes the only way t straighten someone's head out was for them to loose it entirely for a bit.
"Feel better, then? Maybe a bit of breakfast? Sure it'll perk you right up," James offered, the merriment in his too-chipper tone negating most of the sincerity in the offer. Well, not really. But he doubted Sirius would even think about taking him up on the offer. James couldn't cook much, but what he could cook, he did pretty well, and breakfast happened to be one of them.