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When Xeno arrives with a full box of Krispy Kreme donuts, no beverage, and a notebook folded under his armpit, Stanley gets the feeling like he won’t be getting the peaceful evening of couch time with his husband that he’d been hoping for.
“I hope you’re not intending for that to be our dinner, Xe.”
“Nope. I’ve got other plans for these donuts.”
“...Okay. I’ve got dinner baking.”
“Don’t tell me it's a frozen pizza.”
“Nah.”
“Thank goodness, Stanley, you’ve finally given up these atrocious frozen foods-”
“It was frozen lasagna.”
The withering look Xeno gives Stanley makes him suppress a chuckle as Xeno sets down the donuts on their coffee table, the unlabeled notebook and its pen set next to it. Stanley has already been seated there, having been half listening to a baseball game that had been on rerun for the last hour. Xeno goes up to shower as is routine when he returns from work, before returning to Stanley’s side half an hour later, in a fluffy robe with his hair no longer styled in his typical pompadour. He looks a bit like an actress who’d just been hosed down; his hair wet and gleaming, strands running down his face, gently swishing across the smooth ridge of his nose, tickling the corner of his pouty lips, his eyelashes thick with water and curled at the ends, and smelling like home . Stanley wraps his arm around Xeno’s shoulder contentedly, settling back into the calmness of sports and domesticity.
It doesn’t last long however, which doesn’t surprise Stanley in the slightest; Xeno was never entertained by sports, and Stanley knew that wouldn't change anytime soon. A hand first starts its way up his thigh, then his hip, and then Stanley is feeling the way Xeno’s nose is gently rubbing into his neck while his hand moves up Stanley’s chest, over his black t-shirt. It’s a.. Surprisingly sweet, intimate way for Xeno to initiate anything. Stanley indulges in it, pressing a soft kiss to Xeno’s forehead. He mutes the television before running his own hands up Xeno’s arms, his torso, his hips. Xeno makes a soft noise between a sigh and a groan as he gets on his knees above Stanley, pushing him down into the cushions. He settles between Stanley’s legs, kissing his lips first, then his jaw, his neck, and pushing Stanley’s shirt up to lick and kiss his way down his abdomen as well. Stanley groans in appreciation, feeling his cock stir in interest as Xeno palms him through his sweatpants.
Stanley allows himself to melt under his husband’s touch, relaxing and then lifting his hips when Xeno pulls at the hem of his pants and boxers. He frees Stanley’s cock and tosses it to lay on the armrest behind him before returning his attention back to Stanley and the gradually rising erection he’s stirred up. Xeno starts off the way he always loves to; directly targeting erogenous zones. Pressing soft nips and kisses to Stanley’s inner thighs, then his tongue enters the mix. He sucks the skin into his mouth before licking and kissing his way to Stanley’s testicles, sucking one into his mouth before finally taking Stanley’s cock into his hand. Stanley’s head leans back as he groans, melting under Xeno’s gaze and sighing as he feels Xeno’s tongue drag up the underside of his dick. He sucks the tip into his mouth without hesitation, and Stanley’s hand reaches out to card through Xeno’s damp hair in response, giving him another groan of encouragement when Xeno slides his head down slowly at his own pace.
Stanley lets himself get lost in the sensations. The warmth of Xeno’s mouth, the way his tongue knows just what to do when his head raises up until just the tip is in his mouth, the way Xeno looks at him with his dark, dark eyes through those clumped wet lashes. His hips stay controlled under Xeno’s hands, barely twitching even as his climax starts its slow rise.
“Xe, I’m close.” Stanley warns. Xeno pulls off of Stanley almost immediately, and it leaves Stanley twitching and biting his lip.
Damn you, Xe. Always playing games with me.
“Thank you for notifying me, Stan.” Xeno sits up, before reaching over to the coffee table where the donuts and his notebook sat. Stanley quirks an eyebrow.
“Do you want me to-”
“No, Stan, these donuts are already glazed.”
“Then what are you up to? Since when does foreplay have snack time?”
“I’m conducting an experiment.”
“What kind of science experiment- no.” Realization dawns on Stanley like a sack of anvils flying into his face. He sits up. “You can’t mean-”
“Come on, Stan-”
“We were fourteen -”
“It’s been fifteen years, so-”
“That means nothing!”
“It means everything! You’ve grown since then, in every way that matters to the experiment, so it’s only natural we test-”
“Stacking donuts on a boner is not a test-”
“It is, I must see if my hypothesis was correct.” Xeno opens the box of donuts. They’re all, in fact, already glazed.
“...What?”
“My hypothesis.”
“Xeno.. did you guess how many donuts you’d be able to stack on my dick when I was 30?”
“It wasn’t a guess , it was a mathematical estimate-”
“Oh my God.” Stanley puts his head in his hands.
“I need to complete the experiment. Every question worth asking is worth answering.” As Xeno brings the box closer, Stanley peeks at them.
“Did you-”
“Yes, I spooned out the middle of the donuts to more adequately suit your girth.”
Stanley doesn’t have a response for that. All on its own, his erection is slowly starting to flag. Xeno pouts at it, then him, as if it’s his fault that Xeno’s experiment is the least arousing thing he could be doing right now. He puts his hand right back onto Stanley’s cock like it’s inconvenienced him, waking it back up with brisk pumps and a squeeze of the tip. Unfortunately, it does the trick; Stanley figures as long as he gets to finish at the end, it wouldn’t inconvenience him to let Xeno do what he wanted. Xeno keeps moving his hand until he feels Stanley’s dick twitching, signaling just how close he’s gotten again, before he grabs the slightly-violated donuts and unceremoniously puts the first one on Stanley.
It’s cold, and Stanley sucks in a breath at the sensation; it’s not particularly un comfortable, but it’s not comfortable either. After it’s snugly shoved to the base, Xeno continues to pump what’s left of Stanley’s erection slowly, paying close attention to his frenulum as he grabs for the second donut. And the third. And the fourth.
It’s six donuts. Or, according to Xeno’s calculation- drawing a line with a pen on the seventh donut- 6.238 donuts. Stanley isn’t even interested in finishing by the time Xeno’s had his way with stacking confectionaries on him, more relieved than anything when Xeno’s written down his numbers on the notepad on the coffee table and begins removing the donuts. His dick is relatively clean, with some smears of the too-sweet frosting on his shaft.
“I ought to reward you for your service.” Xeno says it matter of factly, like he’s paying an employee.
“Reward? Am I your mutt now?” Stanley raises an eyebrow.
Xeno gives Stanley a look that he doesn’t want to interpret. He knows what it means anyways, and he ignores the soft smirk on Xeno’s lips before they wrap around his cock again, one of them wrapping around the base of his cock while the other disappears below him. Stanley decides to relax into what he’s hoping will be the last time Xeno has to wake his dick up, and with the previous stimulation, it’s not hard to get Stanley right back to that precipice, dancing on the knife’s edge as Xeno takes him as far down his throat as he can. Stanley can faintly hear the shuffling of him jerking himself off as well, but his mind is preoccupied with the way Xeno’s tongue runs along the underside of his dick, how he sucks the tip every time his head draws back, how close he is to cumming when his hand makes its way to Xeno’s damp hair. Xeno knows that’s what it means, too; he gives no warning before he deepthroats Stanley to the best of his ability, looking Stanley in the eyes as he groans and pumps his cum down his throat.
Xeno doesn’t stop sucking, doesn’t stop pumping his own hand, until Stanley pulls him off his sensitive cock by the hair, hissing through his teeth. Xeno wordlessly climbs over Stanley, and he takes this as his chance to pull at Xeno’s robe’s ties, letting it flutter open and expose his husband’s pale skin, freshly moisturized from his shower. Xeno claims Stanley’s lips without preamble or witty comment, and when Stanley tastes himself on Xeno’s lips, it's with the aftertaste of the donut icing. Stanley hates that he likes it, and distracts himself by letting his hands travel the familiar planes of Xeno’s chest, his stomach, until he reaches for Xeno’s erection. Xeno gasps into Stanley’s mouth when he immediately gets to work, pumping him in the way he knows Xeno likes it; brisk but not enough to really send him over the edge. Xeno relishes the slow wind up, grinds into it softly, lowering himself until he’s straddling Stanley for comfort, leaving soft huffs of pleasure in little puffs against Stanley’s cheek as he kisses him. Stanley speeds up right when Xeno seems to relax, making him arch his back and inhale sharply before Stanley steals his lips again.
Xeno is quiet when he’s close. He stills, taking everything Stanley’s giving him in stride and turning their kiss soft and almost, almost innocent except for the way that he begins to shudder against Stanley, spurting cum in ropes all over his chest. Xeno’s cock twitches even after it’s done spilling, once, twice, and then Xeno’s relaxing, nudging into Stanley’s side so he doesn’t smear his cum over his chest and robe. Stanley stretches to grab at the napkins Krispy Kreme had provided with the donuts, and Xeno plucks them from his hands to clean up his own mess of his own accord.
“So.. are you satisfied with your results?”
“It was an adequate ejaculation.” Xeno shrugs.
“Xeno..” Stanley nudges him with his shoulder, gently.
“What?”
“Tell me the truth.”
“Truth of what?”
“How many donuts did you expect to stack on me?”
“My initial hypothesis.. It was eight donuts.”
“Jesus Christ, Xe, eight? ”
“Donuts were far flatter and wider then, with smaller holes. With shrinkflation and all, donut proportions are wildly different. I’ll still be able to account for the size difference with a little math.”
“Why’d you even use donuts in the first place?”
“Challenge. I did the mental calculations of the sizes of the donuts before you got to my house that day.I did the math in my head so I wouldn’t rely on pen and paper, just to see if I could do it.”
“.. Of course you did.”
“Was it really that bad, Stan?” Xeno’s tone isn't that different, but it's just soft enough for Stanley to know its earnest concern.
“Nah. But I was in the middle of watching a game, you know.”
“My apologies, Stan. We can keep watching.” Xeno pulls himself up to reach across the couch and coffee table to grab the remote, turning the TV back on.
“You’re gonna fall asleep before dinner is done baking.”
“Is that so bad?”
“You’ll complain about your back and feeling hungry in the morning.”
“That's a future Xeno problem.” Xeno lets himself settle against Stanley’s chest, and Stanley decides if his husband has laid claim to his chest, no matter how uncomfortable, he’ll just have to deal with it.