Jonathan Brandis Imagines

Omelette

"Hey! Give it back!" Jonathan yelled when I snatched his favourite cap straight from his head. The uncovered dark blonde hair remained messed up. A couple of strands falling into Jon's eyes made him shake his head in annoyance. He really needed a haircut.

I grinned and put the baseball cap on my head.

"How do I look?" I asked, spinning a 360° like a diva.

"Like an egg."

I thought he was joking, so I smiled, but he continued.

"No, really. Like an egg. Your face is the same color as an egg shell. And the proportions... Your forehead is so-"

He couldn't finish his sentence because his face was suddenly shoved into a pillow. That's because I roughly pushed him on his bed, taking another pillow and beating his back with it.

"Y/n stop!"

"You. Will. Not."

He turned around and tried to escape but I sat on his legs, trapping his wrists in my right hand.

"Call. Me." The pillow went straight to his face.

"Aaaaah! Don't hurt me!" He yelled, but with laughter. Jon knew he could have set himself free very easily. Even though we were almost the same height, the first strength differences became obvious when we were 14. Being 17 and much stronger now, he could have slammed me against a wall with one hand if he wanted t- nevermind.

"An egg!!!"

As soon as I yelled it out, I stopped with the one-sided pillow fight and then slowly let go of his hands. He was panting, chest rising up and down in a fast pace as irregular giggles still escaped his mouth. I smiled.

"But you seriously do-"

I raised the pillow again and he shut up, covering his face with hands.

"You better not say it again! You yourself look like a potato!"

"Hey!" He tried to act chagrined but the smirk on his face gave him away.

Jonathan sat up and then I realized I was still sitting on his legs, basically straddling his lap. It wasn't unusual, the touch barrier was never a big deal with us. We've been friends since forever. We've known eachother since kindergarten, and we've slept in the same bed many times, or hugged and held hands when scared. One thing we both loved was wrestling. Nothing serious in it, fully platonic. It was usually just me trying to prove my "strength" when Jonathan teased me. He didn't always let me win, but it happened often. We'd always laugh and take the whole thing easy. I was never nervous around him, not even when our skins touched.

However, this time it was... different. Jonathan's face was way too close to mine and I knew it flustered him too, seeing the light red tint spread on his cheeks.

Silence filled the room and the new, partially uncomfortable tension was slowly increasing.

"Why- how do I look like a potato?" Jonathan asked in attempt to ease the scene, but his unconsciously lowered voice didn't even slightly help it. The butterflies in my stomach woke up at the melodic deep sound.

I backed up a bit from him. The eye contact he held with me was tensing me up. It was like... pleasingly uncomfortable.

"Well, the shape of your face is exactly the same as a potato. See, round and crooked."

That was the biggest lie in the whole world, but I wanted to jokingly tease him, as I always did.

"So you say I'm a potato," he huffed.

I nodded.

"At least I can be made into french fries, while you..."

I raised my eyebrows.

"...you'll just rot."

I punched him on the chest, making him stumble on his breath.

"That's stupid! Do you know how many uses does an egg have? I can be scrambled, fried, boiled, in a soup, salad..."

He studied my face as I named him all the meals with eggs I could remember.

"...and that's it. I can freely choose to be a meal exactly like you and not rot."

"Which one would you like to be?"

I sank down to my thoughts while counting the light freckles on his nose.

"I'm not sure. What about you, potato?" I grinned.

Jonathan's eyes traced to the side as if he was reconsidering something.

"You know the spanish omelette?" he questioned after a while.

I furrowed my brows. Omelettes are made of eggs. I'm the egg here, not him!

"It's... made of eggs and... potatoes."

He fumbled with the hem of his flannel shirt, looking straight down. It took some time for the message to hit me. When it did, I gasped.

"Are- are you saying- what?"

He nodded shyly, still avoiding eye contact.

"Jonathan."

He raised his head, cheeks almost as red as a strawberry.

"Stop blushing or I'll call you a tomato and... That wouldn't really make a good spanish omelette..."

His ocean eyes lightened up.

"Is that-"

I didn't give him the time to finish his sentence. I grabbed the collar of his shirt and after pulling him closer my lips crashed into his, making him jump up in surprise. After a couple of seconds he realized what was happening and kissed me back. His lips were the softer than the fluffy pillows surrounding us which I used not 5 minutes ago to torture him. Jonathan's hands didn't stay still for long - one made its way to my waist as the other cupped my face, stroking my skin with his thumb.

I broke the connection to catch my breath and I could sense Jonathan's smile forming.

"I think we'd make a great spanish omelette," he mumbled into my lips.

I smirked and kissed him again, letting it last for just about three seconds.

"I'm actually kinda hungry. Let's cook some omelettes?"

He chuckled before he looked up to make an intense challenging eye contact.

"Okay, but I bet mine will taste better."

"In your dreams!" I yelled as I got up from Jonathan's lap and ran off to the kitchen.

***

A.n.: THIS IS SO RANDOM HAHAHAHAH but like aww 🥰
also not me researching ways of preparing an egg... to write it here... I legit couldn't remember more than 2 👁️👄👁️
Unedited.