-rainbow cookie, tracob

15,

-

If it weren't for the fact that the only food-related smells Jacob's dorm ever had were those of burning things, expired things, or microwaved things, he might almost have believed his nose when he rolled over and smelled a full meal cooking. What a cruel dream, he thought as he snuggled down into the blankets. If there was a god out there, he was an evil one who liked to torture uni students with the memory of substantial food.

Try as he might to return to sleep, it was too late. Jacob's stomach was growling now, a demanding rumble crying out for the creature comforts of hot poptarts and cold coffee. Not quite a full meal, but worth opening his eyes for, anyways.

Troye blinked back at him from where he sat on Jed's bed.

It took a second for Jacob to register that his eyes are, in fact, open, and that Troye is legitimately in his dorm room on a Saturday morning, sitting on the opposite bed and holding a plate full of-

"Is that bacon and sausage?" Jacob whispered in sleepy awe. "Oh my god. I thought I was dreaming."

"It's for you," offered Troye, who placed the loaded plate on the nightstand next to Jacob's head. "I made you breakfast in bed."

There was no need to tell Jacob twice. He was propped up on one elbow shoveling eggs into his mouth before Troye was done talking. "Shouldn't someone be making you breakfast? You ought to be in bed, hungover."

"I can handle my liquor pretty well, actually," Troye said quietly. "Woke up at seven and I'm not even a little hungover."

"That's unfair, you were completely wasted off your nuts last night. Lucky asshole. I take that back," Jacob sighed as he dug into the hash browns. "This is incredible and you are a beautiful, wonderful person for it. Is that-are those fried onions? You're fucking fantastic."

Troye's guilty look was a perfect counterpart to Jacob's expression of rapture. "I'm not," he protested weakly. "This is an apology breakfast. The whole point of the breakfast is that I've been awful."

"Apology? What for?" Jacob asked, though he knew very well. "This breakfast could make up for anything, though, just for the record. Do we have any tea?"

"Oh, I made you that too. Hold on, I'll get it."

In the brief moment where Troye went to fetch the mug from the counter, Jacob rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Unfortunate, that such an incredible breakfast came with such unpleasant conversation- but unavoidable, if Jacob was honest with himself. At least there was bacon to sooth the discomfort.

"I'm sorry about last night," Troye said quietly after he'd handed the piping hot mug to Jacob. "I'm like, horrified. I can't believe I said that, out loud."

Blasé was definitely the best option here, Jacob decided at once. "Don't worry about it, we all say stuff we don't mean when we're drunk, yeah?" he said gently, spreading baked beans on toast like it was the most interesting task in the world and all ongoing conversation was hardly worth consideration.

"But what if... what if I did mean it?"

Beans slop down Jacob's chin because he misses his mouth in shock. Troye wordlessly hands him a napkin, face beet red, waiting for some kind of a response.

"S-sorry, what?" Jacob struggled to get out.

"What if I did? Want that. Those things that I said." Troye seems determined to keep eye contact with Jacob despite the flaming of his cheeks, his chin raised in a way that spoke equal parts defiance and desperation.

It's a bravery Jacob can't ignore. "Oh. You mean you- you actually do want me to... oh."

"Hypothetically."