Heavy Saccharine: Cookie-dough-Hair-Kitchen= 3 Little Words Challenge

Brian looked around the kitchen and then glanced at the calendar for assurance. “What the fuck is all this?”

Justin continued his task, ignoring Brian and silently refusing to answer the question.

Brian stared at one of the batches of ‘decorated’ cookies. “At first I thought I was magically transported six months into the future,” he joked.

“I never knew you had such a good imagination,” Justin said testily. “They’re not Christmas cookies, Brian.” To accentuate his point, Justin held up a tube of yellow gel frosting and pointed to a sugar cookie cut into the shape of a sun.

Brian looked curiously at a pan of cookies on the bar top, the shape of which looked like a dog’s face and Justin had obviously decorated them to look like Trask, blue eyes and all. “Are these for Trask?” he asked.

“God no,” Justin answered. “I’d never give him people food.”

“You’re not going to make me eat them, are you?” Brian asked fearfully, touching an undecorated sun in front of Justin that felt hard as a rock.

“Don’t touch them because they’re not for you; they’re for our wonderful friends,” Justin replied sarcastically.

Brian winced and backed away from Justin. “So are you back to being ‘Gloomy Ass’?”

Justin gave Brian a feral growl and threw a ball of cookie-dough right at his face. “You’re no one to talk,” he ranted. “Last night, you couldn’t even keep it up long enough for me to suck you off!”

“Fuck!” Brian moaned in disgust, picking pieces of dough out of his hair. “You’ve gone crazy, Justin,” he said condescendingly, “you need to calm the fuck down.”

“That’s why I’m in here, away from all of you!”

Brian felt himself shrink a little at his husband's words but he stepped closer to Justin anyway. “You could’ve invited me,” he softly spoke.

Justin laughed as he drew a smile on the sun with the gel icing. “Yes, I’m sure you would’ve loved to help me bake ten dozen cookies.”

“Why are you baking ten dozen cookies?”

“Because Debbie decided to bring over a fucking ten pound bucket she got from a superstore. I didn’t have anywhere to put it. So I figured that while everyone is outside having fun at our expense, I’d take some much needed time alone and bake some fucking cookies.”

Brian chuckled, “You’re a clever devil.”

“I know,” Justin grinned. “I’m killing two birds with one stone.”

Brian rolled his eyes at Justin’s statement. “You still could’ve invited me to help.”

“Brian, you wouldn’t have wanted to help, I know you too well. I don’t even like doing this and I actually like to cook.”

“I would’ve watched you,” Brian whispered, wrapping his arms around Justin’s waist. “I like to watch you do… just about anything.”

“You’re being sweet again;” Justin observed, pushing his ass against Brian’s crotch, “why is that?”

Brian caught Justin’s wrists in his hands, making him drop the icing as he savagely pushed his upper body down onto the countertop.

“That wasn’t sweet,” Justin laughed out. “My cookies are ruined,” he pouted, but did nothing to stop himself from smashing them. “All this work for…”

“Fuck the cookies,” Brian told him, draping himself over Justin’s body. He turned Justin’s face toward his and pushed his tongue into his mouth, stopping all other protests from Justin. “Mmm… you taste sugary,” Brian uttered against Justin’s hungry mouth.

Justin pushed the cookie-sheet out from under him and it clattered to the ground on the other side of the island. “Come on,” he begged in between kisses, “hurry.”

“You want me to fuck you right here?” Brian asked, shoving his hands around to Justin’s crotch.

“Yes, just fucking get inside me, Brian!” Justin seethed, undulating his hips to rub his erection against Brian’s searching fingertips.

Brian grasped Justin’s cock and danced his pointer and middle finger against Justin’s piss slit.

“You’re so wet,” he observed lustily.

Justin took control and shoved his pants down under his ass and awkwardly reached back to help with Brian’s slacks. “Come on,” he gasped, “you can talk dirty while you’re fucking me.”

Brian chuckled and dropped Justin’s cock from his hand. He expertly unsnapped his jeans, drew down the zipper and released his dick. “Hand me that gel,” he ordered, dragging his penis up and down Justin’s crack.

“What?” Justin asked, breathing heavily in anticipation.

“That icing gel,” Brian said, reaching his arm out and pointing to where it lay on the counter, just out of his reach.

“I don’t need it,” Justin hissed.

“Are we really going to go through this again?” Brian asked, just barely holding back from ramming himself into Justin.

Justin sighed, grabbed the gel, and handed it to Brian. “Here,” he huffed, “stain my asshole pink; I don’t care, just fuck me already!”

Brian squeezed the icing into his hand, coated his dick and rubbed the excess onto Justin’s twitching asshole. “Fuck…” he gasped, his dickhead popping through Justin’s tight, warm ass.

Justin shoved his hips backward, a little too hard, causing Brian’s cock to slip out of him. “No,” he shouted desperately, “put it back in!”

“This shit’s too sticky,” Brian complained, trying to get his dick to at the very least stick to the outside of Justin’s asshole.

Justin placed his head and torso completely flush on the island and reached back to spread his ass cheeks. “Go on, quickly, before someone comes in.”

“I’m trying,” Brian replied, aiming his cock into Justin’s ass but only getting sticky resistance. “It won’t go in!”

“Finger me, finger me and open me up,” Justin demanded.

Brian squeezed the last bit of remaining gel onto his fingers and rammed one into Justin’s hole.

“OW!” they both yelled.

“Why are you 'owing'?” Justin hissed, feeling Brian’s finger halt inside of his ass.

Brian whimpered, “That fucking bee sting, it hurts.”

“Did you take the stinger out of your finger?” Justin asked worriedly.

“I… I don’t know.”

“You didn’t put anything on it, so you didn’t even bother to check if the fucking stinger was out,” Justin assessed in fear. “Did you?”

“No,” Brian answered, the heat from his husband’s ass causing his finger to throb painfully.

“Get it out of me!” Justin screeched, pushing Brian away from him. “I don’t want a stinger in my ass!”

Brian took three clumsy steps backward, his pants falling around his ankles and nearly tripping him. “Stay there,” he ordered. “I’m just going to rinse my hand off and…”

“OHMYGOD!” Tucker gasped, pausing in his footsteps as he entered the kitchen. “I’m… I’m…” he stuttered, holding Jasmine close to his chest.

“Ah!” Justin yelled in frustration. He was too angry to be embarrassed by being caught with his pants down.

Brian laughed pathetically. “Come in, Tuck, come in!” He huffed out a deep breath, grabbed his pants and pulled them up over his hips. “You came in right on time.”

“Uhmm… I just… Jasmine needed a bottle and I was near the den’s back door, so I….”

“It’s okay,” Justin assured laughing like a mad man. “It’s okay.” He pulled up his pants, ignoring how sticky his asshole felt.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Tucker said apologetically, not able to look Justin or Brian in the eyes.

Justin buttoned his pants as he walked around the island. “You weren’t interrupting a thing,” he sneered, glancing at Brian. “‘Stinger Dick of Apprehension’ can’t seem to get anything going so don’t worry about.”

“Seriously?” Brian asked, looking at the bump on his pointer finger to see if the stinger was still in his skin. “You think this is my fault?”

“If you would’ve just shoved it in when I…”

“Whoa!” Tucker interrupted. “Jasmine needs a bottle, guys. Who wants her?”

Brian saw no sign of the stinger and wiped his hands on a paper towel. “I’ll take her,” he told Tucker, walking over to him. “We’d appreciate it if you didn’t…”

Tucker shook his head. “I didn’t see a thing,” he said, handing Brian Jasmine and then quickly exiting out the door into the back yard.

Justin bent over to start cleaning up and felt Brian’s eyes on him. “You’re not allowed to look at my ass until you get your dick in it.”

Brian laughed in despair and walked over to the fridge to get out one of Jasmine’s ready-made bottles. “You can’t force me to stop staring at your ass,” he replied.

Justin squished a ball of cookie-dough in his hand. “You’re lucky you’re holding our daughter right now,” he warned.

Brian smiled down at Jasmine and shrugged. “I am.”

TBC in Heavy Blitz