Here you'll find
Lancer hummed under his breath, forehead creased in thought. All right, he'd managed to complete the cake - it was beautiful, light, spongy, just suitably moist and, judging by the dough he'd sampled, bound to taste absolutely fantastic. And the icing looked perfect as well, artistically haphazard and incidental. He touched it with one slim finger and nodded, raised his hand to lick the blob of icing off. Just perfect. And now for the final touch...
Ooh, it was great to have this apartment at their disposal! It had a large living room, a bedroom, a bathroom with a veritable basin for a bathtub, even a little kitchen. The view was an extra bonus: it was high up in Radysson Estates, most of Trelissac spreading under their eyes. Only Maurice's penthouse apartment was higher, the one he shared with the spectacular Roberto. Lancer couldn't help wondering sometimes whether Maurice's taste in guys simply was like that; or had Rob, with his greenish eyes and long golden mane of hair, won the manager's heart because of his astonishing resemblance to both himself and André, two former drag stars for whom their boss had harbored deeper feelings? Ah well, that didn't matter. Roberto adored Maurice who doted on him, and the two were an extremely happy couple. Lancer was genuinely glad for them.
Living in a hotel while performing several nights a week at Chez Maurice would've been too unpleasant, which was why this apartment was so perfect. Scott tended to get fidgety in hotels, deprived of his daily piloting, and leaving Scott behind in the Plains Base for days on end simply wasn't an option. Here Scott had easy access to the gyms downstairs, an opportunity that he enthusiastically embraced. Which, right now, had given Lancer the chance to experiment some in the kitchen. Of course he was badly out of practice, but hey, skills acquired at an early age never really went away. He'd been such a mommy's little helper when he was a boy. And with his mommy to walk him through the intricacies of making a cake All By Himself - albeit over the comm, from the other side of the planet - things simply couldn't go wrong. The cake was just about ready, it needed only the final touch.
Lancer hunted in the fridge, cursed to himself, then spotted the packages he'd been looking for. Of course he hadn't forgotten them, and he'd also taken extra care to hide them from Scott and his sweet tooth. If the pilot had seen them, well, that would've meant goodbye to the chocolate. Which wouldn't do at all.
He quickly peeled the wrapping open, dropped the bars on a plate and began to poke at them with a knife. The chocolate crumbled into tiny flaky pieces, light as breath, and Lancer fought against the temptation to taste - he knew what chocolate tasted like, and these were destined to go over the icing to complete his culinary masterpiece.
The last bit of the chocolate bar just proved too much for him. After minimum hesitation, Lancer picked it up and slipped it quickly into his mouth. It instantly began to melt on his tongue, creamy and soft. No, this wouldn't do! He had to have the cake ready before Scott was back...
Except that he was late already. The apartment door opened and closed, and he heard Scott's voice.
"Lancer? Where are you?"
"Over here," he called back, resigning to his fate. If he had wasted just a little less time with the icing...
Scott peeked in from the door and smiled. It was totally bone-melting how his face never failed to light up when he saw his lover, and Lancer smiled back, wondering if his heart would ever stop skipping a beat at that smile. Wiry arms wound around his waist and pulled him tight against that breathtaking body. Scott smelled of shower gel and himself; Lancer rubbed his nose into the soft skin just under the man's ear and heard a chuckle.
"What is that?"
"That's chocolate," he murmured, and felt Scott peering over his shoulder.
"Chocolate, where? No, I meant that thing on the table."
"It's a cake!" Lancer tried to sound outraged. "A cake, lovingly made all by myself, and you call it a thing? Really!"
"You know I did not mean it like that!"
Lancer's eyes rolled back in his head when sharp teeth raked along his collarbone - damn, at which point had Scott already managed to unzip his top enough to open it that much? He laughed, squirmed a little as Scott's hips pressed him against the kitchen counter, felt a thoroughly promising bulge against his own.
"What is the chocolate for?"
"Take your greedy eyes off of it," Lancer admonished half-heartedly. "It goes on top of the cake."
"It looks delicious."
Scott continued to kiss and lick him dizzy, so it probably was no wonder that Lancer didn't realize what was happening until Scott pulled slightly back, one arm still firmly locked around his lover's slim waist, and smirked. Lancer yelped as something cool rained down on his moist shoulder, and had barely enough time to glimpse at the brown dots before Scott's head hid them from his eyes.
"What're you doing...?"
"I want chocolate," Scott stated. Lancer saw in the corner of his eye that the tiny pieces were actually beginning to melt on his skin, and a fascinating idea popped into his head. If they melted like that, even though he'd been feeling relatively cool still a couple of minutes ago, how would they behave on Scott who, despite the shower, had to be warmer than usual after his customarily rigorous workout session in the gym. Hmm... but weren't the flakes supposed to go over the cake?
Scott licked the chocolate off Lancer's shoulder, careful to remove even the last traces of sweetness. Lancer let his head fall back, remembered almost belatedly that his hair just might reach the plate, and managed to get one arm behind himself to pick it up. Scott looked at him and arched an eyebrow, but Lancer shook his head.
"No. For the cake."
Scott loosened his hold somewhat, letting Lancer wiggle around and sprinkle the chocolate crumbs over the cake. The task was not made any easier by hands that slid to grab him firmly by the hips and pulled him backwards so that he just couldn't help grinding his butt against the distinct hardness he felt there. Scott hummed and put his chin on Lancer's bare shoulder, nibbled his ear. Lancer whined.
"You're not helping," Lancer protested. "This is a cake to celebrate our anniversary. Therefore it must be absolutely, mouth-wateringly, deliciously perrrr-fect. And you're trying to make me ruin it."
"No I am not." Scott rubbed his cheek into Lancer's hair. "You are absolutely, mouth-wateringly, deliciously perfect. And so is the cake. That is enough chocolate now."
"Hey!" Lancer tried to grab back the plate that Scott had snatched from his hand, but he couldn't hope to match the reflexes of an S-clone. Okay, the cake already had a gentle dusting of chocolate all over, but it needed more. And there was plenty on the plate that Scott was eyeing thoughtfully, standing on the opposite side of the kitchen table. "Give it back!"
"Come and get it," Scott challenged and backed out of the room, holding the plate irritatingly in front of himself. Lancer huffed and followed him - into the bedroom?
"Here it is," Scott singsonged, placing the plate on the nightstand. "What will you do?"
Lancer weighed his options for a moment, then he leaped on the bed and tried to grab the plate. In a fraction of a second a hand closed around his wrist and tugged so that he lost his balance and went sprawling across the large bed. Another fraction of a second, and Scott was on top of him, pinning him in place.
"Ooof!" he protested and could hear Scott grinning in triumph.
"Do not complain," Scott purred. "The cake has enough chocolate. I want some, too."
His hands were altogether too skilled. They were in too many places at the same time, and before Lancer fully recovered from the shock of having made such a silly mistake, he was naked. Well, perhaps his own wiggling had played some role in it, but it didn't make Scott's efficiency any less awesome. When Scott nodded in satisfaction and reached for something, on all fours on top of his lover, Lancer used the opportunity to open the pilot's jacket and trousers in one deft movement. Then he stopped breathing.
Scott hovered above him on his knees, straddling his hips, and smiled. In his hand was the plate. Lancer opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get a sound out, the plate tilted and a thick cloud of chocolate flakes rained down - all over his crotch.
"Scott... you're... crazy," he panted, looking at the dark head that bowed down. Scott looked at him, eyes glowing under dark eyebrows.
"Am I?" he grinned.
Lancer dug his fingers into the bedcovers and moaned aloud as his lover proceeded to lick every crumb from his skin. From the insides of his thighs, from his belly, from his navel, from his balls, and very particularly from his cock. His cock that looked oddly like the cake was supposed to, covered with flaky chocolate. Lancer would have laughed at the sight, he really would, if the whole situation hadn't been so goddamn overwhelming that he was struggling just to breathe.
Scott's arms were around Lancer's thighs, keeping the blonde in place, his tongue working slowly and methodically. Carefully. Thoroughly. Lancer's hips bucked up but Scott pressed him down into the bed, flashed a wicked smirk and swirled the tip of his tongue a bit harder. Oh, how he liked making his beautiful lover writhe and beg for more, and he knew that Lancer liked it too. Up to a point. And that point was close... just about now.
Lancer nearly sobbed when his erection finally glided into Scott's mouth, very slowly, and the dark pilot began to suck him. After all the teasing he couldn't hold back much longer before that electric tension crept all over his body and then gathered into his lower belly, he saw those familiar stars behind his eyes, and his hand closed into a fist in Scott's hair. And still the orgasm took him by surprise in its intensity, the way it always did.
He lay back, gasping, felt Scott licking lazily his softening cock, tried to raise his head. The third attempt succeeded, he pushed a very limp arm behind his neck and looked into Scott's glittering blue eyes.
"You're impossible," he stated weakly.
"No," Scott corrected. "I am here, which means I am possible."
Lancer stared at him for a moment. "Sometimes I'm still not quite sure when you're being serious and when not. Like, was that a joke?"
"You decide." Scott pushed himself up on one elbow, as if to go. Lancer grabbed his arm.
"Hey, not too fast! Aren't you now leaving things only halfway done?"
"No I am not." Scott stood up and zipped up his trousers, not even trying to hide the fact that they were rather tight. "But I want to taste that cake now. We will go on later."
"All right, all right, I know that SC's have this superhuman self-control and all that," Lancer grumbled, reluctantly following Scott's example. "But this still feels rather unfair!"
"It is not unfair," Scott said smugly over his shoulder. "I want you to recover first. There is still plenty of chocolate left."
Lancer plopped back on the bed and groaned.