Catch Me

Author’s Note: This fulfills the ‘make each other breakfast in bed’ prompt. This takes place two days after the opening of The Grand (the morning after the dinner with Meiko). 

Summary: Kenji makes breakfast for Thea and she has a revelation about their relationship.

——————–

Soft rays of morning sunshine filter in through my eyelids as I slowly rouse from a deep slumber. Stirring slightly, I’m surprised to find my movement unrestrained. I’d fallen asleep tangled up in Kenji, both of us exhausted from the previous day’s events as well as a night of much needed stress relief.

Or at least I thought we had. But as I groggily open my eyes and continue to shift around in the silky sheets, gently stretching my taut muscles, it becomes abundantly clear I am indeed alone in bed.

Well this is a first.

We’d had sleepovers plenty of times now in the months we’d been seeing each other and not once had Kenji ever woken up before me. Most mornings I had to swiftly maneuver myself free from his embrace, taking care not to wake him as I began my morning routine. So why was today different?

My answer wafts in through the miniscule crack in the barely open bedroom door. The savory aroma of bacon tangles with the bitter scent of coffee. I can hear the faint clanging of metal and the rush of running water from a faucet.

Kenji Katsaros is in his kitchen fixing breakfast for us, for me.

I smile softly, a strange mix of excitement and uneasiness settling in my stomach, as I hoist myself out of bed and pull on Kenji’s button-down shirt lying in a crumpled pile on his desk. A resounding creak from the door announces my departure from the bedroom and all sounds of bustling in the kitchen cease abruptly, the quickening thud of footsteps taking their place.

Kenji rounds the corner in a flash, donning only his boxers and I freeze at the sight of him. His thick black hair still tousled from sleep sticks up awkwardly in various directions, dark splotches of grease and small clumps of what appears to be flour speckle his well sculpted chest and stomach. He’s a portrait of domesticity, a boyfriend making breakfast for his girlfriend.

Except that’s not what we are. Or are we?

We had been spending an increasing amount of time together outside of work sparring, getting drinks together, going on casual dates, and, of course, having copious amounts of mind blowing sex. But we had yet to define anything, had yet to even discuss what we wanted out of this…relationship…we had going. And that was fine. Talking wasn’t necessary; we both seemed to understand from the start this was just a casual thing.

Except now everything seemed different. Now, it might not be so casual anymore.

Is that what I want?

“Oh no, back to bed, Little Bird,” Kenji instructs with a mock firmness, pulling me out of my thoughts; a playful gleam dances in his eyes, his tell-tale smirk plastered on his lips.

I roll my eyes at his choice of nicknames, but can’t stop an amused grin from forming on my own face.

“What are you planning out there, Katsaros?” I nod toward the kitchen with a questioning raise of my eyebrows.

“Oh you’ll see darling, but first you have to march that very sweet behind of yours back into the bedroom. I’m almost done,” he responds, his eyes darkening as they take notice of my attire, a sense of pride and amusement filling me.

“Fine,” I relent with a sigh, but I make a point to strut back into the bedroom with a teasing sway of my hips, the edges of the shirt tickling my bare thighs with every step. My smile grows when I hear a soft groan behind me as I once again disappear from Kenji’s view.

I busy myself while I wait by straightening up the bed and gathering the clothes scattered around the room. The faint plunk of glass hitting wood grabs my attention as I’m scooping up my black slacks. A small vial rolls across the floor, the plush rug near the end of the bed stopping it in its tracks. I discard the various garments in my arms onto the armchair nearby before gathering up the vial, to examine it. Rays of sunlight illuminate a singular droplet of pale pink liquid and my stomach ties itself into a tight knot.

The liquid prism.

I stumble to the bed, barely catching myself before my knees buckle. Images of the past twenty-four hours assault me and I’m transported back in time within my mind. Caleb stands in front of me, a maniacal expression playing across his features, his hands burning with blue-hot flames growing ever closer. The vision shifts and Talos lies motionless on the cold concrete, part of which is visible through a sizable hole in his bronze abdomen. I continue to relive the traumatic event in brief flashes, nearly crippling fear and anxiety engulfing me.

When the flashback subsides I curl up on the bed, inhaling the comforting scent of Kenji still lingering on the sheets. Kenji is fine now. I recovered the liquid prism, Dax patched him up, and he’s good as new.

He’s ok. He’s not hurt. He’s alive.

I repeat the reassuring thoughts like a mantra until my breathing slows and my once pounding heartbeat returns to normal.

Kenji saved me. He jumped in front of Caleb and saved me, becoming seriously injured in the process. My chest aches as I realize how close I came to losing him and something stirs in my mind.

Why do I feel like someone has a vice grip on my heart?

Sure, I care for Kenji as a friend and I thoroughly enjoy every moment we spend together, in or out of the bedroom, but that’s all. Isn’t it?

But the dread that threatened to overpower me as I touched Talos’s cold unmoving body had felt greater than the simple fear of losing a partner and friend; it had tugged at the very center of my soul.

Is it possible that I’m falling for him?

“And now, may I present you with the main event of the morning, a delectable breakfast served in bed by yours truly. Please, save the applause for later. Or don’t, your choice,” Kenji announces, his booming and overly confident voice crashing through my thoughts.

I bolt upright to find him standing proudly in the doorway holding a simple wooden tray upon which sits two plates of pancakes and bacon, two bowls of fresh fruit, two steaming hot mugs, and a plain white vase holding a yellow tulip. A look of genuine worry quickly wipes away the cocky enthusiasm painted across his face as his gaze meets mine and his eyes soften.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks tenderly, swiftly closing the distance between us.

“Oh, nothing. Still tired from yesterday I guess,” I respond, forcing my face into a cheery expression. “We didn’t exactly sleep a lot last night.”

His normal cheeky smirk plays upon his lips and my own lips curve upward as he sets the tray on the bed and climbs in next to me.

“No, but what we did was much more fun than sleeping,” He says, arching his eyebrows ever so slightly.

He ghosts his fingers down my mostly bare thigh and a shock wave of desire ripples through me. I playfully swat his hand away and reach for the mug of dark brown liquid.

“Since when do you have a coffee maker?” I ask in between sips.

“I don’t. That’s from the place on the corner you like.” He takes a bite of syrup covered pancake and I repress the sudden urge to kiss the sweetness off his lips.

“Well, thanks for going through all this trouble.”

“Anything for you, darling,” he replies with a grin, but I notice a hint of red spreading across his cheeks. “Actually, I made this to thank you. Last night, you coming to dinner with me and my mom, it um… it meant a lot to me. I really appreciated your help,” he continues, bringing one hand up to cover his face.

A wave of adoration and unbridled contentment washes over me, and I realize the answer to the question I’d posed to myself minutes earlier.

This may have started out casual, something fun to relieve the stress of our newfound responsibilities, but somewhere along the way feelings became involved. Now, I’m certain this isn’t just a fling for me anymore. I can feel myself falling fast and hard for the outwardly cocky, but now adorably embarrassed, man snuggled next to me.

I set down my coffee and reach for him, pulling his hand away and gently cupping his stubble covered cheeks in my hands.

“Anything for you, darling,” I say with a smirk of my own, meaning every single word, and then his rough lips devour mine in a deep but tender maple-flavored kiss.

One of his hands grasps the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair, and the other wraps around my side, sneaking up under the hem of my shirt. I allow my own hands to wander down his neck before resting them on his firm chest when he pulls me closer.

We lose ourselves in each other, forgetting about the delicious display of food before us, instead giving into a different form of hunger. As we do, one thought, a plea, lingers in my mind:

I’m falling for you Kenji Katsaros. Please be there to catch me.

-The End