“Mix the dry ingredients first!”
“Of course, Stephen,” came the patient reply.
“Stephen, I don't want to make a mess. It'll go everywhere.” The patience was just starting to wear thin now.
“Well, that'd just be a little more to clean up!” Stephen delivered a friendly slap on the back that pushed Tad against the mixing bowl, leaving a strip of icing sugar across his favourite plaid shirt.
Pacing up and down, Stephen watched the frosting take shape, licking his lips in anticipation. “Warm up the spatula first, makes it go on smoother.”
Holding the spatula under hot water, Tad mused on Stephen's birthday wish, and hoped he'd get to stay around to help him celebrate. With a careful hand, he began to smother the frosting over Stephen's delicious treat.
Watching him, Stephen began to moan with pleasure, “Fuck, you're good at this, Tad. I might let you lick the bowl afterwards.”
Tad glanced up with a hopeful smile, “You really mean that, Stephen?”
“Really, really, Tad.” Stephen nodded, before scowling, “Now hurry up, and don't spill anything!”
Tad gently set the eagle motif in place and was admiring his handiwork when the doorbell rang.
Stephen was giddy with joy. “That'd be Jon! Let him in, then get out!”
“Oh, you can lick the spatula, then you can go. Show him in, then shoo!” Stephen flapped his hand at Tad's sulky, retreating form and lay back, ready to receive his guest.
As the door opened, Jon's grin almost imperceptibly dropped, “Oh, er. Hi, Tad. I thought it'd be just-”
Licking the spatula, Tad waved him in, sighing. “Naw, Stephen only had me over to help prepare. You two have fun. He's in there.” With that, he draped his jacket over his arm and trudged out with a heavy heart. Maybe he could go round to Jay's...
A bemused Jon called out, “Night, Tad!” He shut the door after him and peered round the bedroom doorway, “Happy bir-”
Jon stopped abruptly, lost for words, before a peal of dolphin-like laughter broke free from his lips.
From the bed, a wave of indignation spread over Stephen's naked body, “Stop laughing, I'm trying to seduce you!”
Jon's hands fluttered over his mouth as he giggled, “It looks like you seduced a cake first! Oh my god, is that an eagle on the end of your cock?”
“It's an eagle rampant, Jon!”
“It's not the only thing rampant,” came the hysterical reply.
Stephen was furious by now, “I had Tad spread red, white, and blue frosting all over my magnificent cock so you could eat it off me, not mock me!”
Jon was on the floor by now, writhing with a serious case of the Giggling Gerties. He made the mistake of looking up, only to see the eagle flapping about as Stephen shifted position to scold him more. Jon hit the floor with a thud, hands banging on the rug as he heaved with laughter.
“Stop laughing at me, Jon!” Stephen was in full pout, his eyebrow almost as cocked as his cock.
Jon made a gurgling sound, “I'm gonna die of an asthma attack, and you're gonna greet the paramedics like this!” He rolled over, struggling to the end of the bed, then pulled himself up by Stephen's thigh.
Trying not to laugh at Stephen's miserable expression, he reached out a hand and drew his finger along the frosted cock. Stephen shuddered and moaned as Jon slid his frosty finger in his mouth, savouring the taste.
“Not bad, my compliments to the chef,” Jon smiled.
Chasing off the last remnants of his misery, Stephen pouted, “Just shut up and enjoy the meal, Jon.”
“I might want a second helping,” Jon replied, grinning.
Stephen's eyebrow twitched again, a smile creeping into his growling scowl, “Chef will be up all night.”
“Happy birthday, Stephen. Make a wish.” Jon licked his lips and prepared to blow the candle.