Meaningless little fluffy drabble. Except with garbage. I mean Yuck/Roger Jr. Selfsame. Takes place in my nonsensical human/Mars Hill-type AU wherein Yuck is Asian and chimera, meaning he has two distinct sets of DNA, and Roger Jr. is vaguely Native American but retains the ability to breathe fire.

X

"I'm not doing it if you're gonna be fellating a hot dog the whole time."

The boy separated from him by a rivulet of stained scarlet plush cocks an eyebrow.

Roger adds, "Don't actually start fellating it, please." Black eyes still linger on the pink sausage hanging limply out of his boyfriend's mouth, like- Squidward's nose, or- or a fat tail. Ochre cheeks stretch in an uneven grin. "Don't make dinner anymore awkward than it has to be."

Yuck chops the dog in half and swallows both ends in a flash of tongue. Never would have predicted his first dinner with his boyfriend's family would be a picnic hosted by a hot dog cart notorious for wares covered in condiments that, albeit ultimately quite tasty, could easily pass for fake vomit. But, then again, in this town an entire kitchen being amputated from the home by a wayward blast of magic wasn't all that atypical.

Before you ask, no, it wasn't him.

"Thinking about penises while you're eating?" Yuck asks, lolling back into the love seat plastic-wrapped just for (him) this concupiscent visit. "Sounds more like a you problem, Dahmer."

Roger Jr. rolls his eyes, gives Yuck's smug face a playful shove. "Just get a marshmallow."

Of which they have an already-opened bag on the tablecloth-draped ottoman, along with one pop-capsule of M&Ms with which to play checkers on Yuck's dually skin-toned chest. The only valuable remnants of little sister Tillman's slumber party from last night.

Yuck peels out one golf ball-sized specimen and plops it into his mouth.

And they kiss, silent amongst the schlocky action movie playing in front of them and the footsteps of the ground floor above. Pulling each other closer, fingers crawling across shoulder blades, as their lips form a tight seal. As Roger slowly breathes a trickle of fire into his boyfriend's mouth, first-degree hot. The marshmallow expands until Roger can taste the rim of it, and is about to steal it when Yuck senses his thought before he even thinks it and swallows the sugary glob whole.

And before Roger can think to say, "You forgot the chocolate," Yuck deepens the kiss, wrapping thick, freckled arms around a thick neck, climbing onto knees so that he may look down upon his partner. Their mouths are hotter than their cheeks were during their first kiss

(but once you spend a date daring the other to a pepper-eating contest, it's a non-issue).

Roger Jr finally breaks the kiss, letting a ring of smoke float from his lips à la a film noir.

"You're gunna give me smoker's lung," Yuck declares, waving away the wisps of gray about his face.

Roger titters and mumbles an apology. Yuck coughs.

Pause.

"This is the part where you say I'm worth it."

"I was not aware I'm living in a Nicholas Sparks movie," Yuck replies, though he pulls Roger's visage back close to his. "Lemme give you AIDS and we'll call it even."

"You don't have AIDS."

"I'm a metaphysically-unstable being who's spent most of his life living in dumpsters," he says reasonably, shifting himself to have his boyfriend's legs betwixt his. "I'm not saying my life is that poorly-written, but~"

Roger rolls his eyes and swiftly tangles his fingers in Yuck's greasy mop of hair. "Shut up." And kisses him.

After a minute or so, Yuck breaks to ask, "So're we watching Strippers vs Werewolves next?" and is promptly silenced again, this time content with it.