“Why are you liberals always trying to destroy society?” Stephen asked.
“What?” Jon said. “We weren’t even talking about politics!”
“Avoiding the question, I see!”
“Stephen. I think that maybe you should calm down.”
“Calm down? If you whiny unpatriotic hippies get your way, you’ll destroy every important tradition, and tradition is the glue that holds society together! You’re trying to unglue us all!”
“Well, for one thing, no. That’s not true. Or logical.”
“But it is! Traditions make us who we are! Pledging allegiance to the flag, prayer in school, cuddling after sex, my right to buy unlimited assault rifles and name them after various X-Men, rule of law, the national anthem--”
“Wait, cuddling? Stephen, is that what this is about? Do you want to cuddle right now?”
“Of course not. But I mean, if YOU need to, you being a soft leftist marshmallow and all, I’ll tolerate it, I suppose, you know, or whatever....”
Jon opened his arms and nodded for Stephen to lean in. He wrapped his arms around Stephen’s shoulders and held him close.
“Better?” Jon asked, smiling fondly.
Stephen nodded, happy, but couldn’t’ help adding, “But you’re still wrong about undermining the social fabric. Feminism is scary and mean and it makes me feel funny inside. People who talk about racism are the real racists, because I don’t see color. And homosexuality is wrong and is a threat to the moral fiber of America and George Washington would hate it and men’s bodies are designed for manly things like hard labor and working in finance and explaining things to female experts and making babies with women, and what if I have to bake a cake for a gay wedding and I don’t know how to bake a cake because I’m a television host not a baker but then the activist judges say that I have to bake them a wedding cake anyway! Gayness is ruining America!”
Jon paused. “You have a little bit of my come there on your chin still, Stephen.”
Stephen wiped it off. “All gone now? Thanks.”
“Tad? Do you think I’m beautiful?”
“Of course I do, Stephen.”
“Do you think I could pass for 29?”
“Umm… youth is not the same as beauty.”
“You’re right, I could pass for 28.”
“Thanks again for having a threesome. It’s not gay if there’s a woman here.”
“Sweetness isn’t technically a woman, Stephen.”
“Tad!” Stephen said, then rushed to caress Sweetness’ barrel. “He didn’t mean that, baby. He’s just jealous.”
Tad just sighed.
“You are WRONG, sir!”
“No, YOU are WRONG, sir!”
“You are an idiot!”
“No, you are!”
Steve continued pumping in and out of Stephen. “This doesn’t count as fucking because I’m angry and I’m showing my anger with my penis! It’s just my penis being enraged in your vicinity!” Steve yelled.
“That’s ridiculous, this doesn’t count as fucking because it’s just two guys relieving tension!” Stephen countered.
“No, this is just like playing racquetball but with condoms instead of racquets!”
“You have the worst metaphors! This is just like a dog and a horse becoming best friends except instead of friends and a dog and a horse, they’re people and they’re having sex!”
“That's horrible! Your metaphors are the worst!”
“No, yours are!”
“Your metaphors are like if the English language vomited and someone stepped in it and then they looked at their shoe and were like ‘oh look, Stephen’s metaphors.’”
“Your metaphors are like if a bridge troll collected his feces in a jar and dipped into them with an elven-crafted silver spoon and said, ‘Give these metaphors to Steve Carell, he shall know what to do with them!’”
“Your metaphors are like –AAGGHHHH!” Steve groaned angrily at his completion. Soon after, Stephen quickly brought himself off as well.
“So. What did we decide?” Stephen said, leaning into Steve and stroking his hair.
“I think we said our next Even Stevphen will be on metaphors or something? Maybe on the beauty of the English language?”
“Typical Brexit supporter nonsense!”
“Go back to Brussels, you euro-guzzler!”