The Morning After

It had to be around ten in the morning when Nathan woke up, his usual alarm ringing loudly, yelling at him to get up. With a sigh, he grabbed his glasses and the phone, turning it off before his headache worsened. His eyes were sore, and his throat was parched. All the crying made a wreck of his body.

Nathan sat up in his bed and stretched. A yawn quickly escaped him, not giving him a chance to stop it. Sunlight came through the blinds before the window; the room was empty and quiet. The only noises, combined with the scent of eggs, wafted in from the kitchen. Johnathan had stayed over. He had slept on the couch in the living room, making a fuss about being unable to sleep in the same bed.

The aromantic asexual didn't get it. Why were people always that high-strung about people sleeping in one bed? Okay, he did get that it was pretty intimate staying so close to one another, but he had a king-sized bed. He only had a bed this size because he had been a wild sleeper all his life, or so he had been told. Well, Johnathan had insisted, not that Nathan had cared. If he had done anything, he would've called the cops, which meant his confession was just one big lie.

Another soft sigh left his lips before he stood up and headed to the living room, grabbing a hair tie to throw his hair up into a messy bun. He had quickly thrown on an oversized t-shirt that barely covered his boxers. When he opened the door, the scent of eggs got stronger.

"Shit!"

The sound of pans and plates could be heard, with some mutters about it almost having been burned. He couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. The usually bright and collected man was panicked and flustered as he plated scrambled eggs on two plates. It got even worse when Nathan walked in, and Johnathan spotted him, almost dropping the pan when he realized he was walking around half-naked in his kitchen. An apron barely covering anything together with his boxers.

"N-Nate! H-hi. I thought I had at least ten more minutes," Johnathan stammered, his face aflame with embarrassment, his gaze unfocused.

This was the perfect opportunity for payback, a chance to even the score from the previous day. Nathan approached, leaning against the countertop with his arms crossed. His eyes roamed, scanning Johnathan's disheveled form from head to toe. He remained silent, his posture exuding judgment without explicitly expressing his opinions. Though appearances were insignificant to Nathan, Johnathan didn't need to know that.

"N-Nate? Uhm, you're making me a little uncomfortable," Johnathan mumbled, a blush creeping to his ears.

"Hmm? I'm just watching you make breakfast, though. You were the one to take over my kitchen without asking." Nathan replied, a smirk growing on his face as he kept staring.

"Okay, okay. It's wrong to use someone else's belongings without permission! I'm sorry. Now, stop it," Johnathan pleaded, his voice catching as he attempted to shield his exposed body with his hands and arms.

"So, you understand the importance of respecting personal property. Good boy," Nathan remarked, patting Johnathan's head with a mix of condescension and playfulness, relinquishing the smile that adorned his face.

As Johnathan let out flustered groans and stumbled over his words, he collapsed inward, seeking refuge by burying his face in his trembling hands. The weight of Nathan’s petty revenge had taken its toll, leaving Johnathan emotionally fragile and overwhelmed. Shame and desire emanated from his pores.

Capitalizing on the moment, Nathan swiftly gathered the plates, carrying them with a purpose to the inviting dining room table. Carefully, he arranged the gleaming cutlery, each piece finding its rightful place. Yet, his mischievous spirit beckoned him back to the kitchen, where Johnathan sat, seemingly shattered.

A soft chuckle escaped Nathan's lips, an impish glint illuminating his eyes as he closed the distance between them. Leaning in, his warm breath caressed Johnathan's ear, his voice a tantalizing whisper that resonated deep within the blonde's soul. "Tell me, dear Johnathan, would you prefer a comforting cup of coffee, a velvety glass of milk, or perhaps... me?"

The air crackled with tension as Nathan's playful words hung in the space between them, teasingly igniting the senses and provoking a myriad of emotions.

"You're killing me... Please stop." Johnathan said, his voice trembling and slightly emotional.

"Well, did you stop yesterday when I asked?" Nathan replied, using a single finger to trace the skin of Johnathan's arm. "When I felt like I was dying inside, and you kept pushing me?"

"No..." he whimpered, another groan coming out as he still hid his red face.

Nathan sighed a little before continuing. "I'm not mad, you know. I'm disappointed. John, I can see that you love me, but I do not trust you."

Johnathan moved his fingers slightly, peeking through them at Nathan. Tears had started to form in the corner of his eye. His body was trembling slightly, probably somewhere between embarrassment and hurt.

"You still haven't answered my question. Coffee, milk, or me?" Nathan pressed on, a smirk playing upon his lips as he held Johnathan's trembling hands firmly, forcing him to meet his gaze.

The blonde tried to look away, the tears and hurt in his eyes as his cheeks were still red from embarrassment and excitement. Even if it was a little mean, Nathan had to get this out of his system. They would still have to finish their assignment together, and Johnathan's feelings seemed legitimate. He could not manage to fake these raw emotions and reactions.

He kept watching Johnathan's face as he held his trembling hands. The little emotions and twitches made his mind seemingly race, looking for the correct answer.

"You," Johnathan finally uttered, his emerald eyes meeting Nathan's puffy blue orbs.

"I don't trust you, and I don't love or feel any attraction toward you," Nathan replied with a smile, aware of the severity of his words. "But I'll reward you for giving me the right answer."

Johnathan seemed wounded, shock and terror etched across his features. Confusion clouded his expression as he grappled with the meaning behind Nathan's reward. It was endearing.

"A reward?" he inquired, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Sporting the biggest smirk he could muster, Nathan leaned closer to Johnathan, his hand tenderly caressing the blonde's arm once more. Drawing nearer, their faces a mere centimeter apart, he locked eyes with Johnathan, a mischievous glimmer dancing in his gaze. With a chuckle, Nathan redirected his face, gently pressing his lips against Johnathan's forehead, mimicking the gestures that had transpired between them.

"Now, let's enjoy our eggs, play the game you brought, and continue writing our story. We need to catch up on the assignment, and I want to read your words just as you've read mine. Prove that I can trust you, that you're different from the rest."

Nathan returned to the table, leaving a flustered Johnathan in the kitchen. He had witnessed myriad dark emotions within Johnathan, and the man's genuine attraction was palpable. Nathan knew how to harness that affection, explicitly stating his boundaries. If Johnathan faltered, Nathan would sever ties. Perhaps, this once, he could place his trust in someone. This was their only chance.

As they settled down to eat, the atmosphere brimmed with tension. Nathan keenly felt Johnathan's adoring and longing gaze upon him. The eggs were fluffy and delectable, a testament to Johnathan's effort in their creation. The simplicity of the breakfast, the golden eggs adorning new plates, and the sun's gentle rays streaming through the windows created a tranquil ambiance that starkly contrasted the emotional turbulence within Nathan.

Johnathan's eyes focused on Nathan, conveying a mix of adoration and desire. Nathan experienced a curious blend of emotions—gratitude, friendship, and a sense of connection that eluded precise definition.

"Nathan, I understand that you don't reciprocate my feelings, but I want you to know the sincerity of my emotions. I care deeply about you," Johnathan whispered, his voice suffused with unguarded emotion as he bared his heart.

Nathan locked gazes with Johnathan, seeing the unfiltered earnestness reflected in his eyes. A surge of emotions washed over Nathan—gratitude, camaraderie, and a peculiar sense of kinship he couldn't pinpoint.

"I believe you," Nathan whispered, his voice barely audible.

Johnathan's face lit up like the sun, his grip tightening around Nathan's hand. "Thank you," he breathed.

The remainder of the day was spent in each other's company. They took quick showers to cool down the lingering emotions and ensure their attire was presentable. Engaging in games, they endeavored to dismiss the lingering ambivalence, the desires on one end, and the distrust on the other. Ultimately, they poured their hearts onto the assignment, their emotions finding expression through the written word, striving to bridge the gap between them.