"Roger… What are you doing?" the filmmaker asked, trying not to smile as he observed his friend spraying whipped cream into empty tin cans.
"Cooking," he responded, rather stubbornly, Mark thought.
"Cooking…what exactly?" Mark replied, smothering a giggle.
"Well Mark, it's not like we have any other food to eat!" he retorted, walking over to the one cupboard and revealing the contents: one half empty package of twizzlers and four cans of whipped cream.
Mark frowned as he took in the sight.. He knew he should have spent that money on groceries instead of a new film reel.
"Hey Rog, why is there so much whipped cream?"
"Maureen and Joanne are staying over."
"Oh," Mark answered flatly, turning up his nose.
"AH!"
Mark jumped, turning in the direction of the musician, fearful of what he would find…
"What the…?" was all he could manage before curling up into a ball on the couch, clutching his spasming stomach as he tried to choke back the laughter.
Roger pouted, still holding the exploded can of whipped cream, furiously trying to wipe the white fluff off of his body, face, hair and clothes. It was futile though, and Mark's continuous laughter was starting to irritate him… So he reached up to his hair, scooped a handful of cream out, and flung it across the room at the filmmaker.
"Hey!"
Mark sat up, giggled, and flung the sugary fluff back at his friend. Roger pounced on the smaller man, rubbing his body all over the other's in an attempt to transfer the cream from him to his friend.
Suddenly there was a break in the playful laughter and Roger sat up, realizing what was going on… Did Mark see too? Did Mark realize? One look at the filmmaker's face, and the heady combination of lust, passion, and love in his eyes made it very obvious to Roger that Mark was thinking the same thoughts as he.
In one swift movement, Mark was on top of Roger, licking his neck and the remainder of the whipped cream away.
Roger groaned, half in pleasure, half in frustration… This couldn't happen, not with Mark… But then the filmmaker started to nibble and all thoughts were cast aside as Roger talk the smaller man in his arms, pressing sugar-coated lips to those of Mark.
Three hours later Mark and Roger appeared from the bedroom, panting, sweating, clothes crooked and covered in white sugary mess to find Maureen and Joanne looking through the cabinet.
Without turning around, Maureen shifted her weight and frowned. Moving aside the one object – the twizzlers – that remained in the cabinet, she sighed and pouted her lips.
"Mark, what happened to all the whipped cream?"