Lance headed to the kitchen to see what gawdawful thing Chris would be cooking today. He peered in cautiously, perhaps expecting an errant piece of food to fly in his direction. He saw Chris standing at the stove, stirring a cheese mixture in a pot. Lance smiled, knowing Chris hadn't heard him come in. He took the opportunity to sneak up behind him and grab his hips.

"Ahhh!" Chris yelped, cheese splattering to the floor. Chris spun around spoon still in hand and smeared cheese mixture on Lance's shirt. "You scared the shit out of me!"

"Yeah, Chris, I missed you too," Lance said and grabbed a towel.

"You think I'm all carefree and crap, but DON'T mess with me when I'm cooking," Chris said. He helped Lance get most of the cheese off of his shirt.

"I'll remember that next time, Betty Crocker," Lance said. Chris rolled his eyes and continued stirring as if he hadn't been interrupted. "What the hell are you making anyway?

"Welsh rarebit," Chris said.

"Welsh what?" Lance said.

"Welsh rarebit," Chris said. "It's a cheese and ale mixture on top of toasted bread."

"Oh boy," Lance said, sarcasm thick in his voice.

"Well then, you don't get any," Chris said.

"That's a threat," Lance said. Chris shrugged it off and continued at the stove. Lance was feeling sticky, as all the cheese hadn't come off his shirt. "I'm going to go change," he said. and headed out of the kitchen.

He walked into the bedroom, stripping his shirt off and tossing it on the floor. He looked through his drawers, but didn't find anything wearable, so he headed into the walk-in closet. He was looking through Chris's clothes when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, now you're gonna start wearing my clothes?" Chris asked.

Lance hadn't been startled much, and said "Well, if I'm going to get cheese on them, I will."

"So I'm sorry I ruined your shirt," Chris said. He wrapped one arm around Lance's neck and ran the other over his chest. "I'll make it up to you."

Lance closed his eyes as he felt hands creep down his sides and then unfasten his pants. Chris pulled off his shirt and pants, then put his arms around Lance's waist.

"I have a confession to make," Chris said. "I was going to wait until after dinner, but since we're in this position now..."

He let go of Lance and ran out of the closet to the bed, grabbed something out of the pillowcase, and returned to the closet.

Lance wrinkled his eyebrows at Chris, not quite sure what his lover was up to. 'Uh-oh,' he thought. 'It's Friday the 13th. I wish I remembered what Chris said he was going to do today...'

Lance's thoughts were interrupted by Chris pulling down his boxers and fastening his mouth around his penis. He moaned, but then Chris' mouth started to vibrate. He had something else in his mouth as well.

"Chris, what is going on?" Lance asked. The sensation was incredible, but he wasn't going to relax until he knew what was causing it.

Chris released Lance's penis and pulled a vibrating egg out of his mouth. "It's a little toy I bought."

"You're just weird, ya know," Lance said, and was going to give other examples, but had his penis engulfed by Chris again.

Chris moved up and down along Lance's penis, the vibrating egg doing most of the work as he moved it around with his tongue.

Lance found the capacity for speech again. "You and your Friday the 13th, your Welsh rarebit, your --"

He stopped when Chris freed his penis. Chris was wide eyed and getting to his feet. "Ah, the Welsh rarebit!" he said. He ran out of the closet and presumably down to the kitchen.

"I guess I'll have to make sure that we never have Welsh rarebit again," Lance said. He sighed at his waiting hard-on.

End.

Originally written as an *Mprov on 10/29/00 with the words rainy day, Betty Crocker, pillowcase, Friday the 13th, carefree, Dr. Dre, confession.