It's Thursday night and Jake's invited Dirk over for their weekly dinner and a movie. Most weeks, they see each other pretty often bordering on a lot, but Jake's been super busy with term papers and Dirk's had work and neither of them have had time to hang out since Thursday. And so, when Jake opens the door wearing those shorts, overworked-and-undersexed Dirk nearly pops a boner on the welcome mat. Those thin, tight bootyshorts that conjured up so many memories from krypton-land all those years ago. Those fucking shorts that hugged him and fell off him in all the right places, that hinted at his smooth, caramel skin through worn tears in the fabric.

Jake smiles and invites him in. His place always smells and looks wonderful, like something out of a commercial, nothing like Dirk's bachelor pad smuppet den of filth. He leads Dirk to the kitchen where he has some simple ingredients sitting out.

"Darl, I'll dilly up the mango ice and leave the pasta to you, yeah?" he says in his goofy, sing-song voice, and kisses Dirk on the nose before flipping away to the other side of the counter. He starts chopping happily, humming some overture Dirk vaguely recognizes as William Tell something. More importantly, when Jake leans over to scoop the wet flesh from the skin of the fruit (making some sickeningly erotic sounds in the process) his ass juts out in just the most tempting way.

Dirk quickly cracks a handful of pasta in half and throws it into a pot of cold water. He flashsteps behind Jake and cups his ass with open palms, making him gasp and drop his knife on the countertop. "Like your pants, shug," Dirk whispers into Jake's ear with that drawl he knows he loves.

"D-Dirk, the dinner." Dirk ignores him.

"Remember the first time I saw you in these?" He trails his nose and lips down Jake's neck, smiling at the tiny sound he makes at the thought, and gently kneads his muscles under that perfect layer of babyfat. "'Member how I ate you open and fucked you 'til you screamed my name?"

"O-oh, Dirk…" his voice is breathless, the dessert forgotten.

Dirk grabs his cheeks harder. "Remember how I spanked you red? How much you loved it?" He licks Jake's neck and nibbles his ear, and Jake moans out loud and grinds into him. Dirk traces Jake's lips with his hand, trails it slowly down his neck, chest, stomach to palm at the bulge in his pants. Jake shudders and tries to turn around, but Dirk holds him in place. Maybe he's being mean, but the sounds Jake makes tells him that he doesn't mind mean, not at all. He fingers the hem of the shorts, touching the line where his crack ends, and yanks it down with his underwear. "Missed you, baby."

"Mmm!" Jake melts into Dirk's arms, his knees going out when Dirk slaps the round flesh hard with an open palm. He cups his fingers and brings his hand down again, and Jake writhes and moans, such a sucker for pain.

"Like that?"

"Sweet lord, yes," Jake responds huskily. Dirk slaps him again and he full-on whimpers and bends farther over the counter. Perfect. Dirk leans down and plants his face between Jake's legs. Of course, he's so clean Dirk can smell the sweet soap on his skin; there were more than a few perks to having a concrete, unchanging boyfriend day. Dirk flicks his tongue up Jake's balls and taint, licking slowly and carefully everywhere he can until he reaches his hole. Spreading his cheeks farther apart with his hands, he licks long swipes up and down and sideways over Jake's ass. "Jerk yourself off, babe," he whispers, then spears his tongue in.

Dirk wishes he could spank him through this, but he has to use both hands to keep himself from being suffocated by choice ass (though of all the ways to go, he couldn't think of a better one…) He wishes he could talk, so he could tell Jake how as soon as dinner was done he'll be fucking him into the wall, the mattress, the couch, pounding and smacking his tight buns so hard he'll see stars. But his tongue is busy with a more important job, rimming him silly until he shoots on the cabinets. Which probably won't take long- Jake's hand is speeding up on his cock, squeezing the tip and stroking the frenum and moaning on autopilot like he does when he's close. Dirk makes out a "I- I'm-" through the sounds just before his tongue is caught in a vice-grip. He's stuck there for a few moments while Jake whimpers and shakes, until his ass loosens and he sinks to the floor with a happy thud. He looks up at Dirk and smiles through half-lidded eyes.

"Goodness, how I've missed you too," he murmurs as he pulls Dirk to the floor.

Not for the first time, home-cooked-dinner Thursday becomes delivery-pizza Thursday, and that's more than okay with both of them.

a/n: hi there so i've been writing these imma put some up here but a lot of them are in the second person which for some reason isn't okay with this site... so i'll put up what i can aiight