Note: I wanted to write something bad. I made no outline. I wrote whatever came into my head. This is the result. Things get weird.
“Have you ever deepthroated a pickle,” Dan asked Phil as he seductively opened their brand new pickle jar that they bought from the store on that same day.
Phil swallowed hard, turned on by Dan and the pickle jar. “N- No,” he stuttered to his boyfriend Dan, more commonly known to him as BEAR.
“You should,” Dan replied, pulling out a wet, sloppy pickle with his bare hands. He put it in his mouth, sucking it HARD as it hit the back of his throat. He swallowed the entire thing, not even stopping for a chew. “We should deepthroat a pickle together.”
“But, Dan!” Phil exclaimed with exclamation. “I mean Bear! We are just BFF’s forever and ever,” he said to his boyfriend. “That’s capital G gay. What would the fans of ours think?”
Bear (that’s Dan) shook his head. “They’d never have to know, Phil. We don’t have to do it on camera. We could just… pickle together.”
Dan pulled another pickle out of the jar, waving it around and around. “Pickle for your thoughts, my honeybear,” he said to Phil (that’s Honeybear), once Phil just stood there with his mouth hanging open.
“I, um,” Phil gulped. “I do enjoy a pickle, and I am a little hungry.”
Bear stepped closer to the blue eyed (and green and gray and lots of colors mixed together), black haired (dyed), older (by like four and a half years) man. “This should fill you right up, my sweetheart.”
Dan wiggled the pickle close to Phil’s mouth, letting the juices collect on Phil’s lips. “Open up, Sailor.”
Phil, totally turned on at this point, opened his mouth into an O shape, so he could collect the pickle.
Dan placed half of the pickle into Phil’s mouth, then bit down on the other end.
Dan bit at the other end of the pickle harshly as Phil stood there, shocked, eyes wide and mouth still dangling half a pickle.
“Good pickle,” Dan said, lifting the jar up to his mouth and chugging the juices.
Phil downed the other half of the pickle. “Now our pickles will be all dry,” he said to his Bear, who had brown eyes and brown hair, and dimples. His Bear was also younger than him, by about four and a half years or so.
“I’ll fill it with some water in the sink.”
Dan walked over to the sink, but Phil couldn’t move. His dickle was in a pickle of its own.
“Bear,” he said, as that was Dan’s nickname that he called him all the time. “My dickle is in a pickle,” he admitted.
“Would you like me to cronch it?” Dan asked, letting the jar overflow with water.
“No. No, my best friend Bear, my lover. I don’t want the cronch. I just want… I don’t even know.”
And now Phil was on the floor, sobbing. He was sobbing because Dan, his lover, his best friend for life, was using too much water. Their water bill was going to be so high.
Dan turned off the water, immediately knowing what his lover wanted. He was next to Phil in seconds, caressing his back, but thinking about the rotisserie chicken in the fridge. “I’m sorry for overusing the water, my lover, Phil. I was just trying to get back at you for being so against marriage. That Sims game from like two years ago, I still think about it. I just want to marry you, Phil, my baby.”
“I can’t marry you, Bear. And I’ve been commiting beastiality all along.” Phil’s tears dried, but he needed to let this out.
Dan laughed. And laughed and laughed. “My lover, I’m not a real bear. You just call me that as a nickname, remember? You silly baby, sugar daddy! You’re just confused.”
“Oh,” Phil chuckled, remembering the pickle incident from ten seconds ago. “Dan, I mean Bear, I love you so much. You are my lover. I’m gay, but only for you. I have never been attracted to another man.”
Dan smiled, wiping his pickle hands over Phil’s face. “I’m only gay for you too, Baby. Otherwise, boobs. Now let’s go into the bed and make sweet, sweet love.”
Phil stood up and Dan hopped up beside him. “Alright,” Phil said, walking toward the room. “Bring the pickles.”