Best Laid Plans
(a Sleeping Stone story)
by Alexa Snow



"Why did we think this was a good idea?" Jazz asked.

"You didn't," Richard said. He was standing at the stovetop watching over the slowly melting butter and chocolate. "Chris and I did. I'm pretty sure I remember you trying to talk us out of it."

Chris grinned. "There was begging involved," he reminded Richard.

"Right." Richard rubbed his lower lip and said thoughtfully, "I liked the begging."

Jazz, whose job was to measure the dry ingredients, gave Richard an exasperated look. "Of course you did. But you know what I'm like in the kitchen. This never ends well."

"It's not like we gave you a recipe and turned you loose on your own," Chris said. "We're doing this together."

"Like we did with the pizza dough and the quiche?" Jazz asked, then fumbled the cup full of flour he'd just leveled off, spilling half of it onto the table.

"There are no knives this time," Chris said. "So at least we won't end up at the emergency room. That already puts us a few points ahead, right?"

Richard stirred the melting chocolate again. "This is almost done."

"Good." Chris swept the flour Jazz had spilled into the bowl with the side of his hand, then gave Jazz a mixing spoon. "Gently," he said.

"Yeah, well, your gently and mine aren't necessarily the same, are they?" Jazz said peevishly. His hair was longer now -- long enough to be tied back but not long enough to stay there, so wisps of it hung along his jaw. "I still think we could have found something better to do on Valentine's Day than something that makes me feel stupid."

"Jazz." Richard gave Chris a look and abandoned his position at the stove. He took the spoon from Jazz's hand, set it down in the bowl, and made Jazz look at him. "You are not stupid."

"I know that," Jazz said, but he sounded less annoyed now. "It just makes me feel stupid. I can learn to do anything, you know? Anything else. But no matter how hard I try, I can't cook."

"Sure you can," Chris said. Giving the chocolate and butter one last stir, he lifted the pot from the stove and carried it to the table, where he carefully scraped the melted liquid into the already-mixed egg and sugar mixture. "Here, stir this."

"I think you'd better do it," Jazz said.

"No," Chris told him, giving him the spoon again. "You do it."

They were all surprised when Jazz managed to stir the cookie dough into something resembling... well, cookie dough, though Chris thought he and Richard both did a pretty good job of hiding their shock. Jazz didn't -- he was obviously stunned. "I made cookies," he said, staring down at the bowl. "I mean, we did. But I helped."

Chris kissed him, not caring at all when Jazz's chocolatey hands stroked his waist and back.

"You did great," Richard said.

"Not too late for this old dog to learn new tricks," Jazz said.

"You're not old," Chris told him.

Richard kissed Jazz slowly as Chris moved to turn on the oven and get the cookie sheets. "You'll never be old," Richard said. "Not like that."

Jazz smiled a little, like he'd slipped sideways from happy into melancholic. "Sure I will," he said. "I'll have gray hair and everything."

"Silver's not the same as gray." Richard, who had more than a sprinkling of gray hairs, took the cookie sheets from Chris and set them on the table.

Something about the way Chris was standing must have transmitted his dismay at the conversation, because Jazz slid an arm around his waist and pulled him in for a three-way embrace. "I think we're supposed to be talking about romantic things," Jazz said.

"Not romantic," Chris protested. "But maybe not depressing?"

"Sorry," Richard said, nuzzling at Chris' ear. "I think we should talk about what we're going to do to Jazz."

Jazz perked up. "Is there a plan?" he asked.

"Of course there's a plan," Richard said. "You think our Valentine's Day was just going to be baking cookies?"

"Well, they are chocolate," Jazz said. He always talked about food with a dreamy quality in his voice; that hadn't changed. Chris, on the other hand, was a lot more relaxed about letting rich, sugary foods into the house these days -- it was worth it to see Jazz happy. "But if there's a plan..."

Their last plan had involved leading a blindfolded Jazz upstairs to a bed freshly made with new silk sheets and scattered with rose petals, to a room filled with candles. Chris had sucked him off while Richard held him from behind, then they'd removed the blindfold and laid Jazz down on the bed and fucked him -- first Chris, then Richard -- until he'd been weak-limbed and hoarse and trembling.

Chris dipped a hand into the bowl and brought out a fingerful of cookie dough. "The chocolate is the plan," he said, and offered his finger to Jazz.

"Ohh." Jazz took the tip of Chris' finger into his mouth, warm tongue swirling over Chris' skin. "Mmm. S'good."

"You have no idea," Chris said, and kissed him. God, there was nothing like Jazz's mouth, so eager and welcoming, and with the smooth, sweet taste of the chocolate... it was taking perfection one step further. Which shouldn't have been possible.

But with Jazz, anything was possible.

"You got cocoa powder on your shirt," Richard said, reaching for Jazz's hem. "Better take it off."

Jazz laughed and lifted his arms helpfully; Chris took advantage of Jazz's distraction and rubbed some chocolate over Jazz's right nipple, just below the little purple and blue dragon tattoo that was curled there. "Uh-oh," Chris said, giving Jazz a wide-eyed, innocent look. "Richard?"

"Hm. Should I take care of that?" Richard asked. Before either Chris or Jazz could answer, he bent and licked Jazz's nipple, hands busy undoing the front of Jazz's jeans.

Jazz gave a little gasp and shivered. "Okay," he said. "I think I like this plan."

"Good," Chris said.

"That's the whole point," Richard agreed. "You still have chocolate on your mouth."

"You'd better help me with that," Jazz said, then inhaled sharply as Chris pulled out his cock and 'accidentally' smeared some dough onto his growing erection. "God."

Smiling, Chris slid down onto his knees and licked Jazz's cock, tasting chocolate. "Don't worry," he said, glancing up. "I'll take care of this."

"This was such a good idea," Jazz sighed happily just before Richard kissed him again, and after that, they were too busy to say anything at all.

Threesome Triple Chocolate Truffle Cookies

4 - 1 oz squares baking (unsweetened) chocolate
2 cups (12 oz bag) semi-sweet chocolate chips, divided
1/3 cup butter
1 cup sugar
3 eggs
1 1/2 tsp vanilla
1/2 cup flour
2 tbsp cocoa powder
1/4 tsp salt
confectioner's sugar


Melt baking chocolate, 1 cup chips and butter over low heat. Beat sugar and eggs for 2 minutes - beat in vanilla and melted chocolate mixture. Add flour, cocoa powder and salt, mix well. Stir in 1 cup chocolate chips. Chill for at least 3 hours.

Place 1 inch balls on cookie sheets and bake at 375 degrees F for 10-12 minutes. Dust with confectioner's sugar.