Bow Chika Wow Wow

Ceasar frowned and adjusted his baseball cap. “I don’t know how I let you talk me into this. What if the neighbours see?”

“No one’s gonna see anything,” Ice said. “They probably wouldn’t recognize you, anyway.”

“That’s not even the point.” Ceasar tugged at his polo shirt. “Where’d you even get this from?”

“Never mind about that.” Ice handed Ceasar a box and ushered him out the door. “You memorized your lines, right?”

“Yes, but Ice, this is—”

“Ceasar it’s gonna be so awesome, trust me.” Ice shut the door and scurried off to the living room to switch on the stereo. The boom of a heavy bass line echoed through the apartment. “Okay,” he yelled, “Action!”

Ice could almost hear Ceasar sigh as he rang the doorbell. Ice, grinning, stood and sauntered towards the door. “Who is it?” he called.

“Dominos Pizza,” Ceasar replied, his voice muffled through the door. “I have a delivery for Ice.”

“Just a minute,” ice said, hastily pulling off his shirt and tossing behind the sofa. He smoothed back his hair and opened the door. “You came fast,” he said.

Ceasar held his pizza box aloft, his uniform hat pulled down over his eyes. “I’ve got a large pizza with extra—” Ceasar paused, biting back laughter, “With extra sausage.”

Ice leaned against the doorframe, puffing his chest out. “So what’s that come to?”

“Twenty bucks,” Ceasar replied.

Ice sighed. “Sorry to say, but it seems like I’ve lost my wallet. I don’t suppose there’s some other way I can pay?” Ice leaned forward, his lips next to Ceasar’s ear. “I’ll definitely give you a nice, fat… tip.”

At this, Ceasar doubled over laughing.

Ice grinned. “Yeah, I’ll bet you could go for some extra sausage, yourself.”

“Stop, stop,” Ceasar pleaded, holding his stomach and howling with laughter. “Oh god you say it so seriously,” he giggled as Ice grabbed him by the shirt collar and pulled him inside, “Will it be a hot and spicy sausage? I sure hope so.”

“The hottest,” Ice said. “Now come on,” he slid a hand under Ceasar’s shirt, “back in character.”

“Right, right.” Ceasar cleared his throat and pitched his voice into a breathy falsetto. “I’m not sure Dominos accepts that kind of payment, sir,” he gasped.

“How about I swipe my card in your slot,” Ice whispered, nibbling at Ceasar’s neck, “and we’ll see if it gets approved?”

Ceasar burst out into laughter again.

“Aw, come on, Cees,” Ice pouted, pulling away. “You’re a terrible porn actor.”

“And you’re a terrible porn writer,” Ceasar said, setting down the pizza box. “Have you even watched a porno since like 1974?”

“I haven’t had to,” Ice bragged. “Especially not lately. Now let’s take it from the top, try not to laugh this time…”

“No way, fuck it,” Ceasar said, “I can’t do it.”

“But Ceeeeeeeees…”

Ceasar laughed and pulled Ice into a kiss. “I won’t act out your stupid porno,” he said, “But I’ll wear the hat.”

Ice grinned. “Well,” he said, “I suppose that’ll do.”

Ceasar took Ice’s hand and led him to the bedroom. “Dominos always puts customers first.”

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