Jake stands, panting, in Dumo's kitchen, one hand holding a dripping whisk, the other gripping the counter edge. Dumo is flush behind him, sucking kisses down Jake's neck.
Jake was making brownies for team dinner, but. Jake has missed Dumo, and Dumo has clearly missed Jake. He's trying to push Jake into the counter and get a hand down his pants at the same time.
"Here. Let me —" Jake drops the whisk into the bowl of batter, turns around, and gives Dumo a sunny grin. "Hi."
Dumo smiles back, bright-eyed. "Hi."
Jake reels him back in. "Now, where were we?"