Jei's Point of View
I woke up before him, the morning after. Still swaddled in his arms and drooling on his chest, my hole ached in the best of ways. I quietly slipped out of bed, avoiding the particularly creaky floorboards, and donned my robe.
From the main room of my apartment, I slipped onto the balcony for a brief moment to gaze upon my city, shrouded in lazy overcast clouds and gentle snowfall. The frozen lake across the way offered passage to Canada, if we wished it. The ice was thick enough to traverse this year.
While I didn't want to stay in the frigid wind for very long, I gave myself the time to close my eyes and take a deep, lung-chilling breath, the thin air cleansing me.
After countless advances and propositions, shady industry heads and questionable fans, ample opportunities that did more harm to my sexuality than good, I had finally taken the plunge into sex... and I *fuckin'* loved it. I'm wholly convinced that it's because of Kent and Kent alone; because of who he is and his context in my life. I never wanted to be wanted in this way until him.
In many ways, he was the first to really *hear* me. Rai would listen, quite well in-fact, but I hid thing even from him. I'm not proud of it, but the truth of the matter is I don't think I'd be able to just unload my whole diaper thing on him. He'd be initially confused, ask questions, and then accept me regardless of whether he was still confused or not, but I'd still prefer to keep it quiet. Kent finding out was already harrowing enough.
If he hadn't hoisted my Ampegs in *just* the wrong way, if they hadn't toppled, if they hadn't spilled open, if my stuff hadn't come out, none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have fallen in love, I never would have spoken about my desires and comforts to anyone, I'd still be a virgin, and I'd still be emotionally alone, despite being constantly surrounded by people.
I've never felt more alive.
I exhale deeply, letting all the remaining negative energy deflate from my lungs. Sliding the balcony door open as quietly as I could, I peeked through a crack in my bedroom door to see that Daddy was still asleep. I always had an issue with obnoxious snoring until I met him.
With a gay little smile on my gay little face, I stepped into the kitchen and lit a burner on the stove. With my open warehouse flat allowing the aroma of paprika and toast to permeate the space, I figured the scent of breakfast would be the most loving alarm clock for him.
Cooking is one of my greatest joys outside of my work in Fight The Good Fight. It’s quiet, solitary, and provides energy and nutrition to myself and those I create dishes for. Kent has razzed me for my Food Network kitchen because of the fancy blender, stand mixer, and island-counter that holds my stove and other gas line goodies.
Two slices of cheddar and two eggs out of the fridge, a couple of ring molds on the skillet and four slices of rye in the toaster. As much as he hated the joking comparisons, it reminded me to give Rai a call sometime today. I had been pretty quiet this holiday break away from the band and really needed to get back in touch with him for some songwriting.
As soon as the eggs hit the pan, I gave them a generous amount of seasoning and emptied a third-cup of water around the molds before covering the pan and allowing them to steam to completion.
Kent appeared in the doorway, shirtless, disheveled, and groggy. Such beauty couldn’t have been rendered in stone. As he rubbed his eyes, I started grinding some coffee beans got a second burner going for the kettle.
“Good morning, handsome~”
He sleepily sauntered behind me and enraptured me in a hug.
“Good morning, little prince,” Kent spoke into my hair, his chin resting on my head. “What’s a baby like you playing with fire like this?”
“Making you breakfast, that’s what!”
“Mmm… is that so?”, he asks warmly. “I suppose this is the first time you’re making breakfast for me off the road.”
“No. Seriously??”
He nods lovingly.
“Well then, I’ve really got to impress you in that case!”
I add the fresh grounds and boiling water to my French press and started it steeping. He let me go so I could retrieve two pieces of stoneware from my warmer and started to assemble the sandwiches.
“Look at you going all gourmet for me, Jei!”
I looked at him confused.
“It’s a fried egg and sharp cheddar on rye toast? The fuck are you talking about, silly?”
“Hey, it’s a lot better than how a lot of us start our days!”
“Yeah? And what does that look like when you’re not on the road?”
“A big fuckin’ bowl of Lucky Charms and two strawberry Pop-Tarts.”
“Kent. Please stay the night more often.”
“Heard that, boss,” he chuckled back, giving me a loving nuzzle.
After depressing the coffee’s filter and setting out some cream for him, I slid the eggs on top of the cheddar and closed up the sandwiches. Kent started to reach for his plate before I wagged a finger at him and motioned for him to watch as I ran my knife through, allowing the yolk to spill its guts between the halves.
“OKAY, WHAT? How the FUCK did you do that? Is that safe?”
“Perfectly safe! All the salmonella lives in the whites, the yolk is now your sauce,” I announced proudly. “Bone apple teats.”
I poured him a cup of coffee as he set into his breakfast, happily noshing away as he emptied out the creamer into his mug. I neglected my own plate, happily watching him while leaning on one hand, gazing wistfully at my boyfriend.
“Hey baby?”
“Yes, Daddy?”
“At the risk of sounding demanding, I’d love another!”
0
0