Sugar And Spice, And Everything Nice

Blair's ears perked up as he heard his lover enter the loft. A slamming door followed by a rumbling growl was hard to miss. Ceasing his typing on his laptop, Blair exited his former room-turned-office to find Jim slumped in the yellow armchair.

"What's wrong, Big Guy?" Blair asked, coming to sit near him on the couch.

"My doctor says my cholesterol has risen twenty points since my last visit," Jim grumbled.

It was too good an opportunity to pass up. "Translation: you're eating too many doughnuts," Blair quipped.

Jim's half-hearted attempt at a glare was apathetic at best; he knew his lover was right. "Yeah, well, it's easier to grab something from the snack cart than to go out for lunch, Chief; you know that."

"We'll just have to start making the time to stop and go out for lunch, then," Blair said. "Or we could always take a lunch with us."

Jim snorted. "I haven't brown-bagged since grade school. And I like donuts," he whined.

Blair rolled his eyes and grinned at his lover. "Well, just because you have to cut down on doughnuts doesn't mean you have to give up everything you love to eat," he pointed out.

Hearing a certain mischievous undertone to his lover's statement, Jim asked, "Oh?"

Blair grinned wickedly. "You can still eat me all you want, Big Guy."

To hell with pastry, Jim thought lasciviously. Blair's the best dessert in the world.

"You know, Chief," Jim said, getting up and going over to kneel in front of his lover. He started undoing Blair's pants, grinning widely. "You have the best ideas."