Lord of the Ring (Doughnuts)

Doughnuts were annoying, actually. No, he corrected himself. Donuts. Or Do-Nuts. Even Do-Nutz. It was like some strange and disgusting form of mutated English that tried to sap the power of the collective power of peoples’ minds, and turn them into what Lij called Netspeakers. The word Netspeakers was accompanied by mock looks of terror, somewhat frenzied gasping, an almost theatrically OTT rendition of ‘the horror! The horror!” Now that was from some book by that Conrad bloke, Heart of Darkness, probably, but there was that film that he couldn’t quite remember that had Marlon Brando possibly uttering the immortal words.

Dammit, the doughnuts were taking his mind!

Sighing, the Scotsman bit into another, jam trying to escape down his chin. Stupid fucking jam. How did jam get into doughnuts anyway? Was it put there before they were fried? But surely then the jam would melt, and what about with chocolate filled doughnuts? Were they injected? What was the secret of this doughnut industry? Was it guarded by Rottweilers and security guards? Pondering the thought, the thought that only extreme boredom could ever put into someone’s head, Billy decided to find the nearest doughnut factory and do a cunning SAS style raid on it, while dressed head to toe in black, with that cool camouflage face paint that the army used for night reconnaissance. Then, he could go out and party! Or at least sneak into Dom’s bedroom and leave a small box of quality milk chocolates and a small card.

The jam ones were all gone. Bugger. Jam ones were the most fun, with their sweetly seductive call and the way they…spurted. Custard was fun, also, but they became a little too cloying after about five of them. Ring ones were the poor relation of other doughnuts, traditional and excellent for a fix, but when compared to the deliciousness of the rest, there wasn’t much point.

Oh, look. Sugary ring doughnuts were the only ones left. Fucking typical.

Billy licked his fingers clean and eyed the treats, the doughnut looking back innocently. Innocent, my arse. The little buggers wanted it, they wanted the chewing and the lip-smacking and the little moans of pleasure, they wanted it more than Gollum on a ring fix, or Ian and his poofy clothing thing.

One hand reached out and…

“Put the doughnut down and step away from the plate.”

Dom. Gah.

“It was only one…two…possibly five?”

The other man shook his head fondly and wandered over to Billy, sitting on the arm of the huge and comfy armchair, looking down at the Scot. The Scot with the adorable green eyes that were trying to look ever so innocent, and that mouth. That delicious delightful mouth that was as addictive for Dom as doughnuts were for Billy, and that was presently glazed and sticky with sugar and slightly parted as the doughnut fiend protested his innocence.
That went straight down the nerve endings to Little Dom, who began to raise his hopeful head perkily. Not that the owner of the errant cock actually enjoyed watching Billy trying to dig himself out of a hole and so was therefore babbling, with those curving lips working and that perfect philtrum that he licked as he tried to desugarfy his mouth.

Of course, there were other things he liked that mouth doing.

Dom stood up, grinning impishly as always, and then popped the button on his Levi’s, then the zip was tugged down and he was delightfully naked apart from one of his obscene shirts that looked like Technicolor catsick. Dom seemed to be getting worse with his dress sense, and it was obvious that a certain Orlando Bloom was behind this hideousness.

Billy crossed his arms over his chest, contemplating between Dom, yummy naked edible Dom, and those doughnuts. Ring ones, to be sure, but still tasty fatty sugarific doughnuts. How could he choose between the two of them? How could he forsake one of his loves for another? If he chose the doughnut, Dom would sulk and sulking Dom didn’t a good time in the bedroom make. If he chose Dom, the doughnuts would go stale and hard, and Billy would feel awful about wasting food.

Something had to be done.

One hand slid to Dom’s hip and tugged him gently towards the chair, the fingertips slightly sugared, a little gritty on the naked skin, Billy rubbing his forehead against his friend’s adorably sweet tummy and kissing just above the pubic bone. The other hand felt around blindly, found a doughnut, and snatched it up with wicked pleasure. Nuzzling at Dom’s stomach flesh, which was soft and scented slightly with the medicinal smell of soap, Billy used both hands to ease the doughnut over the not so soft flesh of Dom’s rampant cock.

“Don’t move.”

The Mancunian grinned even wider.

It was a perfectly delightful thing to be doing, nibbling a little of the doughnut, the sugar scratching against the turgid arousal and heightening the sensations, before Billy chewed the little bite down and then licked over the crown of the glistening tip. Dom, whimpering, wondered if anything had been so erotic in his life. Watching the gorgeous little Scotsman, whose lovely eyes were clouding with enjoyment and lust, looking up as he almost innocently began to lick, was almost mindblowing. Taking his time, eating not just one doughnut off Dom, but the last and neglected one also, Billy was able to have his friend almost shaking. Indeed, hands were clenched on the older man’s shoulders, fisting his shirt, while a string of perfect Anglo-Saxon obscenities poured from Dom’s cute mouth.

With a groaning purr, he climaxed, Billy swallowing, cleaning him up before they both collapsed back into the comfortable chair.

“That was hot. Disgusting, but hot. Jesus, you’ve drooled sugar all over my cock, you wanker.”

“Bathtime?” suggested Billy, tongue exploring the outer shell of Dom’s ear, before curling around the other man’s body for a searingly sweet, and sugary semenly sticky kiss.

………………………………

The bathtub was big enough for two, always useful really, especially with the surfing madness that had claimed both men. It was annoying having to wait for a shower, so they’d decided that two in the bath made sense, it saved water, and they could just continue whatever conversation that they’d been having. Of course, it made even more sense that one day Dom put his hand on Billy’s hip and had kissed him, because that was the direction that their lives had been going anyway. On set there had been Significant Looks, both to each other and from the other actors, who had been wondering for ages whether the two Brits would finally get together.

It was such a shame that their first kiss had been ruined by Billy smacking his head on a tap, and complaining that he always got the tap end.

But that was then, and this was now, and Dom was tugging insistently on the Scotsman’s shirt and jeans while Billy was trying to find bubble bath. It wasn’t him who was the girl when it came to being in a hot and foamy bath, and having his arse slowly groped by someone as sexy as Dom was adding more to the problems.

“Jasmine or pine scented?”

“Pine scented smells like a public loo, you sexy bloody Scot. Stop moving.”
Billy smacked the exploring fingers and bent to pour the disquietingly purple liquid into the bath, before dropping the bottle as Dom took advantage.

Into the bath, Dom in first, stretching out, luxuriating in the steamy heat before holding out a foamy hand for Billy to slip into the tub. They’d compromised with the tap end, neither wanting it and therefore coming to the conclusion that they’d have to just cuddle at the other end. Resting back against Dom, his spine fitting nicely against that lovely soft tummy that he found so adorable, Billy lay his head on his friend’s shoulder, hair tickling slightly against still dry skin.

“I like this.”

“You’ll like it more in a minute.”

Little Dom was making a comeback, like Elvis.

Billy felt the pressure against his arse then turned in the water, watching it spill over the edge of the bath, foam making a break for the freedom of the bathroom floor. Once astride Dom’s thighs, he bent his head, that perfect mouth meeting the waiting and expectant lips, dripping hands tangling dreamily in the blondish hair as they kissed again, searing and heated.

“…wheresthelube?” gabbled Dom as they broke off for breath.

Thank the Lord for the gift of waterproof lubricants.

Billy scrabbled on the edge of the bath, then looked, swearing quite magnificently as the tube wasn’t in the correct place. It wasn’t on the sink, it certainly wasn’t floating around in the tub. There was…no lube. There had to be something, though, because now if he didn’t get screwed he’d go nuts. Toothpaste? Interesting, might be a decent sensation, but being minty clean and fresh down there was a sensation left to professional perverts.. Shampoo? Foaming would just be a bad idea. Conditioner? Conditioner…

“…usetheconditioner!”

………………………………

“Remind he to write to compcompany and tell them that that stuff is fucking good.”

“…mmm…”

“You alright, mate?”

“…mmm!”

“Good.”

Finding a sponge, Dom started to wash Billy’s back, the Scot slumped against his chest, tongue sneakily licking the curve of the Mancunian’s throat. For some reason, even after being frigged and fingered and then buggered senseless, Billy was falling asleep. It was because he was old, Dom reminded himself from the position of seeing thirty from the less worrying side. Billy was old, and needed rest after exerting himself, though with the amount of sugar currently coursing through the blood stream he should have been ready and willing to shag the entire Manchester United football team. Well, apart from Ryan Giggs, because he was an ugly sod.

“Dom?”

“Yeah?”

“Do we have any more doughnuts?”

Christ, Billy was insatiable, at least when it came to round, plump and sugary things. Billy shook his head, kissed his lover’s che and and wondered if he’s be loved more if he was a doughnut.