Chapter 22: Breakfast With Apologies

I wake up to become aware that my arms are empty and that my prince is gone. I sit up, wiping sleep from my eyes.

"Rico," I call out, arising from the bed. I open the door and smell a lovely aroma in the air. Is he cooking?

I go downstairs and see him hustling around in the kitchen and then standing in front of the stove, cooking with his back to me. Rico being Rico, he has some classical music blasting while he's stirring whatever is on the stovetop.

I sneak up behind Rico and wrap my arms around him. He jerks in fear and almost falls toward the stove, but I make sure he doesn't fall. "Good morning, baby." I kiss his cheek.

"Morning," he greets, placing his hands over mine, which are around his waist now.

I look over his shoulder. "So, what's this?"

"Omelet," he answers, folding it over.

"I hate eggs."

He spun around. "What alternatives would you like? I can make you a muffin or something—"

"Just kidding," I respond, "I love eggs."

"Good," he turns back around.

"I didn't know you could cook."

"I'm okay," he responds, removing the omelet from the skillet and placing it on a plate nearby. He dumps the remainder of raw eggs into the skillet, rushes to another counter and opens up a waffle baker and removes a cooked waffle. He sprays some butter on it and pours some batter inside, closing it.

"Okay?" I exclaim, "You know your way around, it seems."

"Do you want bacon or sausage?"

"Bacon." I watch him continue cooking in amusement. "I can't believe my babe can cook," I loom over him, placing my hands around his hips. "You'd be so cute with an apron and no undergarments hiding your ass from sight." I kiss his cheek.

He removes my hands and recoils. "Jake, I can't concentrate with you watching over me. I don't want the food to burn," he irritably sighs, "Go sit somewhere or something," he shoos me.

"Alright, baby," I kiss his cheek, seductively, "I like you ordering me around. You should do it more often."

"Will do."

I sit at the table and watch him in entertainment until he is finished.

He starts placing the food on the table. When I tried helping, he pushed me away. "You're my guest. Sit down and let me serve you."

I put my hands up in defeat. "Okay, okay." I obey and watch until he has all of the food placed.

My mouth waters at the sight. There's waffles, bacon, omelets, toast, and fruit laid out. "You went all out."

"Of course I did," he responds, setting the table with plates and silverware. "We haven't had a real meal for days."

"Oh, yeah," I say, almost forgetting we were just locked in a room, only surviving off of snack foods for the days spent inside.

I arise and grab my plate. Rico eyes me in annoyance. "What did I tell you?" he takes my plate away. "I'm serving you, because you're my guest."

I take it back, "You already did. Now, let me make my own plate. I'm a big boy."

"You are a big boy," he sexually implies, "In places more than one."

I smirk, as I begin fixing my plate with outrageous portions.

He eyes my plate with huge eyes. "Damn! I forgot how much you athletes eat."

"I am starving." He fixed his plate with better portions, compared to mine. It was at that moment I realized he had bacon on his plate. "So... this vegetarian thing is a no-go?"

"Sure is," he responds, "At least for now."

I chuckle, "Why'd you even go vegetarian for?"

He laughs, answering, "Honestly, it was because of you."

I eye him in confusion, "But, I don't recall ever mentioning vegetarianism to you."

"You told me I can't love animals and eat meat a while ago."

"I did?" I question, instantly recalling the moment. I don't remember half the things I said to Rico in the past to ruffle his feathers. "Well, I was just finding another reason to pick on you, like the asshole I am," I confess, "I thought you just changed your dietary lifestyle on a whim or something."

"I tried to prove a point," Rico takes a bite out of his omelet, "But, in the end, I didn't like vegetarianism as much."

"Prove a point to me?"

"Yeah, idiot."

I feel a smile form on my face.

"Don't look at me like that," he turns his attention away from me, stuffing his face. "You got to me a lot, okay? But don't rub it in right now."

"You also got to me," I admit, "I got jealous when you told me that others have been looking at you, after it went around that you—"

"Went sideways?"

I look at him in puzzlement. "What?"

"It's something that Ken tried telling me," he laughs, "Just another way of saying I'm not straight."

I rolled my eyes, joining him in laughter. We laughed for a few moments until Rico stopped suddenly.

"Jake."

"What?"

"If you were ashamed of possibly being gay then, why would you spread it around to everyone?" he asks, with obvious hurt in his tone, "You wouldn't have known if I was secretly or if my family wasn't accepting of it. You didn't know of my circumstances then at all whatsoever. I could've been a closeted gay guy. I could've been harboring it as a secret and would've felt ruined, if I owned an ounce of shame for who I am. Luckily, my family is very supportive of the LGBTQ community, so I never felt the need to 'come out' since I felt they'd take me as I am, regardless of my orientation."

I instantly felt a heaping amount of guilt. "I'm sorry," I sincerely apologize, "I wasn't thinking about that, Rico. I wasn't thinking about the consequences you could've possibly faced; I was only thinking of myself selfishly and—" I pause for a couple moments, "—I was honestly just trying to see if you were gay... to see if I had a chance, even if it was small, with you. I also did it so that if you were straight, you wouldn't have a chance with girls in our school. And when I found out that you were really gay, I was shocked. I was shocked at how nonchalant you were reacting and not denying it." I laugh, to keep my voice from cracking, "I was so shocked to see you—a gay person—not be in denial about who you are." He places his hand over mine in comfort, which puts me at ease. "When I knew other guys, who were more worthy, had a chance with you, I freaked out and put on that performance carelessly, without a care in the world. I didn't want anyone else to get the idea of asking you out."

"To mark your territory?" he continues eating.

"Yes," I admit, "It was wrong of me... all of that was wrong of me." I eat a piece of bacon.

"If you were ashamed, why would you tell Luci and me that you were open to new experiences?" he asks in puzzlement, but then his expression changes drastically as if a realization hit him. "Was it to prove a point?" he eats the remainder of his omelet and moves on to his waffles.

"Yeah," I reply, "Luci was calling me on my crap and I had to say something that would nullify her claims of me not being open. Anything to counter her."

"Was you kissing me and touching my ass at school to prove a point too?"

"No, I honestly just wanted to kiss you and touch your ass," I retort with frankness, "But, I wanted you to think I was doing that with no attachment — you know, to put on a show, but it ran deeper than that."

"I could've pressed charges on you for sexual harassment for touching me without my consent, asshole."

"And I would've deserved it," I agreed, "I'm sorry for that too."

"Consent is mandatory," he harps on me, "No means no."

"It is definitely."

"And what did you mean when you said there were worthier guys who would pursue me?" Before I could answer, he continues, "Have you seen the morons that roam that school? None of them compare to this." He gestures towards my entirety. He punches my arm. "Don't you ever put yourself down like that in my presence."

"So, I can do it," I bring technicality into it, "when you're not around?" I take a bite out of my toast.

He punches my arm again. "No."

"Okay, just wanted to be sure," I tease, rubbing my arm. "But seriously, Rico, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for everything I put you through—well, attempted to put you through, but you dodged everything I tried throwing at you like a pro—but anyways, I'm still sorry."

He chortles, "I did dodge you well, for an idiot."

More guilt fills me. "I'm also sorry for always throwing my grades in your face like a douche and calling you a moron."

"It's all okay," he remarks, smiling, "I understand why you did those things; that's what matters to me. I forgave you already and moved on." He adds, "Because of you, I want my grades to go up. So, I pursued that extra credit assignment...." he trails off.

"It was still wrong of me," I remain hard on myself, "You're not less intelligent than me because of it. In fact, you're very—"

"Do you think we'll still be able to get some extra credit? Are there any more days left?"

My attention is gained instantly and I try to remember the dates. "Yeah, I remember that there are times tomorrow with a faculty member outside."

"Want to go with me?" he questions, "We only have to show up for one day and we get a small boost in our performance."

"Sure," I remark, grinning. "I'd love to go with you."

He goes back to eating and I couldn't shake away the guilt. "Rico, you don't know how sorry I truly am for—"

"Sorry to interrupt, but I worked too hard for this food to get cold," he replies, with his mouth full, in which a bit of his food is spit out. I make a disgusted expression. He swallows. "If you want to make it up to me, don't let my food on your plate get cold."

I laugh, "Okay, my chef."

When we finished our food, Rico and I got seconds with me eating twice as much as him. "You're a hungry ass."

"I am," I stuff my face, "Especially after only eating yogurt and other finger foods."

Afterwards, Rico and I decide to watch a movie in the living room. We cuddled and kissed between commercials. "Thanks for the filling breakfast, baby," I kiss him, "It was delicious."

He kisses me back. "I'm glad you enjoyed it." He turns his attention to the movie. "Maybe next time, I could make you breakfast in bed."

"I'd love that," I responded, "And maybe I could do the same for you as well?"

He leans on me. "Can you cook?"

I start answering, "I'm not really experienced, but I'll try—"

"No way in hell," he recoils from me, "You aren't going to poison me."

I side eye him. "Poison?"

"Yep, I said it: poison," he challenged.

"Welp, you're going to eat my food if I make it for you, whether you like it or not."

"No means no," he reminds.

Laughing at him making jokes, I instantaneously begin tickling him. He hollers, resisting, but as expected, I got him held down pretty well.

Suddenly, Rico's cell phone begins ringing. I let him go and he instantly answers, "Hello?" A second later, he excitedly greets, "Hey, mom and dad!"

I smile in delight at my chef's happiness, but while he was ecstatic to hear his parents' voices, I dreaded the time I would have to face mine when they got home.