The Breakfast Club
by HYPERFocused

When Seth started high school, his father gave him some advice he said would stand him in good stead when it came to women. Learn to make a good omelette, and she would be yours for life.

She'd think you were a responsible, decent guy, and not just a horndog trying to get in her pants. That his father actually used the word "horndog" - something Seth had only heard when he flipped past reruns of Gidget on TV Land - amused Seth greatly. "OK, Daddy-O", he'd said.

"Of course," Sandy had said to him, "I don't expect you'll need this advice yet. In fact, I sincerely hope you won't be making any girls morning after omelettes until you're several years older than you are now, when you're in a committed relationship. With condoms. And if your mother has anything to say about it, a marriage license. But it's a good thing to know, and the results are a lot more impressive than the effort would make it seem."

He's never had an opportunity to make a girl breakfast, aside from his mother, who got his practice omelettes on her birthday and Mother's Day. Asparagus and Hollandaise sauce, which he thought was gross, but she loved. The only girl he ever wanted to do that for-Summer-would have probably just said "Eww, cholesterol!" if he offered. Not that he had a chance with her anyway.

Since Ryan's arrival, he really didn't care. True, his father never mentioned making breakfast for a guy, and he might not be thrilled at what Seth and Ryan had been doing the night before to warrant a morning after breakfast, but Seth figured they could deal with that later.

Much later, he thought, grateful that the pool house was so far away from where his parents hung out, and that they thought Ryan needed his privacy. He was even more grateful Ryan liked having him close by. Because Seth really liked that. Liked it so much, in fact, that he made a total ass of himself.

Like he hadn't spent the past fifteen years or so by himself. He could always amuse himself before. Skateboarding and videogames and comic books used to be his friends. Not to mention his own imagination.

It's just that since Ryan's been here, Seth's imagination has taken him to places where he wasn't alone. And Ryan seemed to be on the same page as he was, judging by some of the stuff they had been doing-which was way better than Seth's imaginings.

It's no surprise he acted like a jealous five year old when Ryan started hanging out with Donnie. Of course Ryan would want to spend time with someone from his old neighborhood-at least 'til he found out what a jerk the guy was. And that might have happened a lot sooner, and without bloodshed, if Seth hadn't acted like such a baby. Seth just thanked God it wasn't Ryan who had been hurt.

He'd never been so terrified in all his life. It was like time went all twisty for him, everything moving faster than he could believe, until it was all over, and he could analyze it second by miserable second.

Ryan and Seth made breakfast shoulder-to-shoulder, alone in the Cohen's kitchen. It's a decent sized kitchen, but somehow they ended up touching most of the time. It's like they were both looking for reassurances that they were all right. Seth jumped-startled-when the toast popped up, then shook himself for acting so ridiculous.

"It's not a cereal sort of day," he said, when Ryan started to get out the Cap'n Crunch. He told Ryan about his father's omelette views. "My dad says it's a really good way to show a girl that you lo-that you think she's cool," he said, grinning at Ryan. "I know you aren't a girl-boy, are you ever not a girl-but I think the principle is still the same. But oh, geez, maybe you don't like eggs, or you only like them scrambled, and I don't know what to put in them-is cheese OK? We have Gouda. I've only ever made them with asparagus for my mom, but that doesn't seem like your kind of thing. My dad likes them with grape jelly, but that's noxious, if you ask me..." He couldn't stop his stupid mouth from flapping, and he didn't think Ryan could possibly understand half of what he said anyway.

"Cheese is good. And yes, I like omelettes," Ryan finally interjected, a slightly bemused grin lightening his expression. Seth couldn't help thinking Ryan should smile more. "I'll make some bacon to go with it." He came up behind Seth and kissed him on the neck. "It's ok, Seth. Really." When Seth stopped slicing the cheese, Ryan took his arm, feeling the same place on it that Luke had been shot.

"It wasn't me, Ryan. I'm ok. I promise. You don't need to worry, and Donnie's probably gone forever and I won't be such a --" Ryan turned Seth toward him, and kissed him to shut him up.

Seth could breathe again, so he took a deep one as he whipped up the eggs, and watched Ryan fry up perfect bacon. Extra crispy, the way Seth liked it. The heat was a little too high, and grease spattered on Ryan's bare arm.

"Shit!" Ryan exclaimed, jumping back from the stove. "I'm sorry, I'm still a little on edge, I guess," he said.

"I know; it's ok." Seth said sympathetically. "Me, too. Give me your arm." He broke off a piece of his mother's aloe and quickly spread it on the burn, then blew on it. The image made him think of the heat of the night before, how it grew between them until Ryan furiously jerked him off, and he came-spattered himself-all over Ryan's arm. He didn't think he could ever eat bacon again without blushing-and getting hard.

Ryan gave him a funny look when he started spreading the aloe. His "I've got an idea" look, and Seth wondered what he was going to get them into. Whatever it is, he knows he'll be game for it.

"Fuck," Ryan said to him, when they sat down with their omelettes. "This is really good." He sat across from Seth, and slid a foot along Seth's thigh. When Seth looked up at him, he just raised an eyebrow. He had to laugh when Seth snorted and giggled at that. Seth felt Ryan's gaze on him, as warm and powerful as the sun streaming through the windows.

"What?" Seth asked him, while shoveling eggs into his face.

"I think you're cool, too, Seth," Ryan said, and Seth knew Ryan meant it the way he had. Ryan didn't quite look him in the eye, but at the same time, he didn't seem perturbed, or all that nervous.

The eggs were out of Seth's mouth before Ryan got the sentence out. It was a classic spit take, but Seth was too shocked to be amused by it.

"W-what?" he said again.

"I just thought I should tell you so you wouldn't get all jealous, thinking I'm not interested anymore, and do something stupid and almost get your sorry ass killed!" Ryan ran his hands through his hair in frustration, and then wiped them off on his sweatpants. "Shit, I've got crumbs in my hair now."

Seth didn't know what to say to that, so he just reached out and brushed toast bits out of Ryan's bangs. He almost wondered if this was some Bizarro world he'd stepped into.

"When are your parents coming home?"

"They'll be home for lunch."

"Damn," Ryan told him. Then he took the plate from Seth's hand, and put it in the sink. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Your bedroom."

"You don't want to go to the pool house?" Seth was surprised. They always went there to make out. That futon got more play in the past few weeks than it had in the years since his parents bought it.

"No. We've never fooled around in your bed, and I want you to think about what I did to you in there today, when you're sleeping there tonight."

"What are you going to do?"

Ryan didn't say anything, just inserted a long finger in his mouth, sucking it slowly.

"You want to blow me?" Seth wanted this clarified, just in case. Needed to know he's read Ryan correctly. "Because you really don't have to, man. I'm perfectly okay with what we've been doing down in the pool house..."

Ryan pushed Seth up against the stairs and kissed him hard, mouth open and a little too wet, but Seth didn't care, because it was real When Seth spun him back around, and shoved him against the twisted wrought iron curve of the staircase, Ryan knew he would have a spiral-shaped bruise on his back. It seemed he was destined to be black and blue in the Cohen house, but this time he didn't mind. Seth returned the favor fervently, tongue thrusting into Ryan's mouth. Obviously he was adept at using it for more than talking.

"I'm going to suck you off," Ryan told him, when they broke for air. "Well, first I'm going to take off that ridiculous t-shirt." He stopped on the second stair, and pushed Seth's vintage McDonald's shirt up, and ran his hands along Seth's sides.

"What do you have against the Hamburglar?" Seth asked. "I know. So not the point."

"And then I'm going to kiss you-everywhere. Your throat, your nipples. That line of this." Up another step, where he demonstrated, peeled off Seth's shirt entirely, and pressed his lips to the hollow of Seth's throat, sucked until Seth gasped a little. Seth hadn't imagined this. He also hadn't imagined what Ryan's teeth felt like, lightly biting each nipple, or how his tongue would lick circles around them that both soothed and burned. He barely noticed when they reached the top of the stairs, and Ryan shoved him into his bedroom, kicked some stray jeans out of the way, and pushed him back against his bed.

"Sounds...sounds good," Seth said, and then he couldn't find anything else coherent to say when Ryan sank to his knees, yanked down Seth's plaid pajama bottoms, and did what he promised.

This was nothing like he'd imagined. So much better that Seth didn't think he could stop himself from coming right this fucking second, and that would be so embarrassing.

He tried to distract himself with The Four Questions. "Why is this night different from all other nights?" because Ryan was blowing him. Okay, not helping. Besides which, it's morning. His Bar Mitzvah Haftorah portion. Anything to slow things down. Rabbi Rothstein would be so ashamed of him. This sign of adulthood was probably not what he had in mind when he said, "Seth, you are a man now."

He felt like a man, though. Actually, he felt like a god. He loved this. Ryan's tongue, active and agile; the warmth and pressure of his mouth as it slid up and down on his cock; and Seth had to restrain himself from thrusting more than a little. Choking Ryan was not what he had in mind. That would likely ensure this never happened again, and Seth wanted this to happen every damn day.

Ryan's hair felt good under his hands, soft and cool, and he tried not to pull. When he got so close to coming that he knew he couldn't stop himself, he pushed Ryan away. "I'm too close, man."

Ryan pulled off for a moment, "It's ok. I want to," he said, then sucked him in even farther, hands on Seth's ass. Coming this time felt better than anything ever has before. Better than the highest score he's ever had in a video game, than conquering the toughest trick with his skateboard. Better even than his imagined couplings-and he had a vivid imagination.

"Oh...oh, wow," was all he could get out, after Ryan came up for air, wiping his mouth. "That rocked."

"Yeah. It did," Ryan said, sitting on the bed next to him, his own erection blatantly evident. His expression was warm, eyes soft, and as blue as Seth's pool.

"Do you want me to..."

"No, you can just..." Ryan took Seth's hand, and wrapped it around his cock. 'If you tried to suck me now, I don't think I'd last."

"Okay, that's cool. But I want to. Sometime." Seth gripped Ryan the way he'd learned Ryan liked, finishing him off; feeling inordinately proud of his "joystick hands," and the way Ryan responded, leaning into him and kissing his neck.

"That was incredible," Ryan breathed. Neither one of them wanted to move, but they were sticky and could use a wash. Seth slid off the bed, and walked into the bathroom, bringing back a damp cloth for each of them. Then he flopped back down next to Ryan.

"Yeah. Because together we're-" Seth started.

"Unstoppable." Ryan finished.


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