Somehow, Will had managed to convince himself until right that moment that he was capable of cooking. He'd planned it all out for days in advance; it was the perfect idea. He'd overlooked the fact, however, that he had no earthly idea what to do with the pots and pans and dishes that were spread out over the counter in front of him.
If Jem were here, he'd know what to do, Will thought sullenly. But, of course, the whole reason that he was standing there wondering what to do was because he'd decided to cook breakfast for Jem on his birthday. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"Here we go," Will muttered to himself, trying to psych himself up. He grabbed a pan and a package of bacon and set both on the stove. He struggled with the packaging for five minutes before managing to rip the thing open with his brute force and unbridled rage. He threw the slimy pieces of meat onto the pan and turned the stove on, setting the dial to full-power. It immediately began to sizzle, and Will felt pleased with himself as he turned to face the fridge again. Grabbing the carton of eggs, he cracked one into another pan and set it beside the bacon, which was making a heck of a lot of noise.
"Shut up," he hissed to it. "You'll wake Jem."
The bacon responded by sizzling even more loudly and happily. Will made a rude gesture at it and turned back to the egg, which was practically cooked already. He took a plate out of one of the cabinets and tipped the egg onto it, almost dropping it onto the floor as he did so. He set that down on the table and walked back to the stove. The pan of bacon was still bubbling and popping, and as Will leaned over to inspect it, a drop of hot grease landed in his eye, practically blinding him. Will kicked the fridge hard with his bare foot in his anger at the world, immediately regretting it as soon as he'd done it. He hopped around the kitchen, cursing colorfully and loudly, clutching his bashed-in toes in one hand and his burnt face in the other.
He was making quite a racket, even more than the bacon had earlier, but this didn't quite register to him until he heard soft footsteps approaching the kitchen. He swore again and then frantically tried to seem in control as Jem walked into the room. He blinked in surprise, surveying the damage that had been done to their kitchen.
"What happened here?" he asked finally, a lock of his silver hair falling adorably into his face. Will looked around.
"Um," he said. "Happy birthday."
Jem smiled.
"Thanks," he replied. "Is that what this is about?"
"Yeah," Will admitted. "I tried to be a good boyfriend and it… didn't work."
"Of course it did," Jem said soothingly. "I'm more than satisfied with how it turned out."
"Why's that?" Will asked.
Jem gave one of his rare mischievous smirks.
"Because it means that you, sweetie, have to take me to IHOP."
Will laughed, stepping forward to kiss his boyfriend's forehead. Jem smiled sweetly.
"Let's go," Will said. "My treat?"
"I would hope so," Jem replied. "It's my birthday, after all."
"Alright, just let me get dressed and… tend to my injuries."
"Making breakfast is a dangerous endeavor," Jem agreed. "Not for the faint of heart."
"Yeah, you're telling me," Will murmured.
Their breakfast at IHOP ended up being much better than whatever Will was capable of cooking up, and when they got home, they managed to make the most of cleaning bacon grease off of their entire kitchen. At the end of the day, Jem made sure to tell Will that it had been the best birthday he'd ever had. All Will could do was smile and reply,
"Then I guess I'll just have to top it next year."