Monday morning came too fast for Arthit, especially after he had worked a long shift the previous Saturday. But Monday morning it was, which meant he had to get up and go to work.
Luckily, Kongpob had flopped down on top of him late last night and refused to leave, which meant there was soy milk waiting for him beside the bed. (Kongpob insisted that pink milk at breakfast time was only for the weekend and argued that Arthit would be drinking it at work all day anyway so he should have something nutritious at home).
Unluckily, Kongpob's presence also meant another badly attempted omelet.
"But I don't understand what went wrong!" His boyfriend said as Arthit spat out the mouthful of eggs and took a deep drink of his milk. "I even watched the lady on YouTube and followed every step carefully! I'm just a useless chef, aren't I?"
Arthit frowned, then stood and made his way around the small table to Kongpob's side. Gently, he helped his boyfriend to his feet and buried his face into the soft skin of his neck, sniff-kissing him in comfort.
"Nothing wrong with the eggs, my love," he insisted, starting to press small kisses against the warmth of Kongpob's collarbone sliding his sleep shirt out of the way. "But, tell me, did you rinse the pan out after you washed it or have I just eaten dishwater eggs?"
Kongpob pulled back sharply, groaning as he reached up to tug at his hair, "Oh! I'm such a idiot! I'm so sorry, P'Arthit, I could have poisoned you! Are you sure you're okay?"
Arthit was okay. In fact, he was so okay that he agreed to make-up sex in the shower - twice!
YOU ARE READING
You Can't Make An Omelet (without make-up sex) (Completed)
Hayran KurguKongpob cannot cook, but he's desperate to make P'Arthit breakfast. Over one week he learns that there are many ways to make an omelet, but that there are consequences when you get it wrong! Set after SOTUS S, from an idea by my friend Bern! No Matu...
