You All Over Me [BxB]

Twenty

With a faint sound of a door closing, Theodore awakens. He grunts as he massages his forehead and then pushes himself up, one hand reaching for the glass of water on the nightstand. It feels cold, as if someone had just placed it there for him.

Jacob.

"Jake...?" he calls out, taking a sip.

Theodore's eyes flick to the dining area, his heart plummeting when he finds no one. Maybe it was Jacob who had shut the door and left. He takes another sip.

The bathroom door unlocks, and Jacob emerges only in boxer shorts, his voluminous hair messy and damp.

"Good morning."

Theodore clamps his lips together.

He stayed.

"W-What time is it?"

"9 a.m.," Jacob replies. "It's late for you, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Didn't want to bother you. You were sleeping really well."

Theodore swallows. It's the second time he and Jacob slept together (literally) side by side, and once again, he slumbered soundly.

"What would you like for breakfast?"

Theodore vacates the bed and wanders into the kitchen barefoot. "I'll take care of it."

He rummages through the pantry, grabs two eggs and a can of luncheon meat, and brings out a box of juice from the refrigerator.

"I'll help," Jacob offers, inching forward, and Theodore becomes acutely aware of his undressed state. The scent of his own shampoo emanating from Jacob revs up his body temperature, his cheeks turning pink as Jacob's proposal from last night comes to mind.

"N-No! It's all good... I can do it," Theodore mumbles, forbidding himself to look at Jacob.

"Theo, let me do it. Frying is fine. I can fry."

"Okay. I'll cook rice," Theodore gives in. "And please... put a shirt on."

Jacob snickers. "Sorry. Force of habit."

"Right."

"Why? Think I'm seducing you?"

Theodore fires him a glare. "No." Maybe. "But just wear something. Borrow something from my closet if you have to."

Amused, Jacob heeds him and returns fully clothed. Theodore is beating the eggs.

"I'll take it from here."

Jacob, of course, is just trying to be polite and isn't really used to making meals. But he won't stand by and let Theodore do everything.

He tips the bowl, letting the eggs flow into the hot pan. A splatter of oil catches him off guard, and he lets out a surprised yelp.

Theodore confines his laughter to a snort. "I told you I'd do it."

His ears turn red. "No, let me do this... I'm getting tired of takeouts and cup noodles, too."

"Alright," Theodore surrenders. "Add a bit of salt."

"Okay."

With a hand on his hip, Jacob monitors the eggs as they cook while Theodore sets the dining table.

"I'll fry the luncheon meat, too."

"Okay."

A peculiar feeling meanders into Theodore's chest as he watches him. The takeout boy, Jacob, is actually making breakfast.