The dhole laid out his lunch in front of him. Each and every item had been hand-prepared for the day with love and care. And his favorite is left in his lunchbox, kept cool by the icepack within. He’d spent all day thinking about it. He wanted to taste it warm, but heating his special pudding might alert his classmates that he was doing something… well, obscene. Park’s tail was wagging wildly behind him when he felt it brush up against a leg. 

	“Pull it back, tuck it in,” he heard his brash dingo friend say. The words draw a chuckle from Park and the voice itself puts a warmth into his ears. His fellow canid wound his way to the other side of the table and set down his tray. He had the hot dog, white milk, and mashed potatoes, the same thing he got every day. It was the free lunch option.

	“The state of my junk is none of your business,” and he completes the idea in his head. Then, realizing it might be a good flirt, says aloud, “Unless you want it to be.”

	“Yeah, sure, I could style my name into your balls with one of those shaving kits,” Eli replies, taking a seat across from him at the lunch table. The tray lands with a clatter in front of him, “Property of Eli Watts, TM, LLC.”

	“I’m down if you are,” he says, waggling his eyebrows. The flirting wasn’t just a joke. The thought of Eli owning his balls sent a shiver down his spine. “You just have to take good care of them. Train them well. Keep them on a leash…”

	“Get someone else to watch them when I go out of town?”

	“We can leave them with my parents.”

	Eli pops open his milk, pushing his lips to it and sliding his long tongue into the hole to lap it up. It fills his body with the same heat his ears had, catching his breath in his throat. Eli had the best tongue and the cutest lips. Park wanted them everywhere on his body. Eli says, “Uuhh… you okay? You’re more intense than usual.”

	Park had never been subtle in his interest in Eli, but the dingo was always coy in his response, never quite rejecting his attentions. They’d even kissed, just once, on New Years. It had felt more amazing than he could imagine, made him giggle more than the gin they’d snuck from Eli’s parents had.

	“Sorry, just really excited for lunch, today,” he says, unwrapping his sandwich from the wax paper. It was a hoagie, thick with a variety of meats and cheeses, all fed into one another. A little spiced mustard was put on top of each piece of cheese, mostly to cover the drier cheeses. Between that and the layer of mayonnaise, just enough to keep the bread moist and delicious, a mix of peppers, onions, spinach, and olives was almost a salad. The bread was his favorite, thick and crusty enough he’d eat it on it’s own. “You want some? I might have gone a bit overboard this time.”

	Eli’s eyes hadn’t left the thing from the moment it was rolled free of the paper. He licked his lips, just an inch or so along the corner, and it brought a zesty feeling to Park’s chest. The dingo speaks up, “Uh, yeah, sure, if you don’t mind. Do you want any of mine?”

	“You know Papa would kill me if I ate any of those ‘tasteless, over-cooked’ school lunches.”

	“Well, alright.”

	Park wishes he could both enjoy the sandwich and watch Eli dig into his, but either would completely absorb the dhole’s attention. And Eli was well worth giving up half the sandwich. The way his lips smacked and suckled just a little on the bits of meat that came loose with each bite or how his cheeks would puff a little grinding down a pepper. Even how his throat would glide up and noisily gulp down as he swallowed, eager to get more into his handsome stomach. Crumbs would be caught in the hair of his muzzle, and that precious pink tongue would slide out to pull it in. The effort he takes to act normal and just eat his own food is palpable in his muscles every time he twists his head away or stiffens his arm to avoid pinning him to the floor and ravaging him with kisses on that perfect mouth.

	The slow pace of his own eating means that he’s not even halfway through his half when the dingo has finished devouring his. He brought an appetite to this that fed the dhole’s own fantasies, the days of eating and exercising and the nights of using each other’s mouths in whatever fashion appeased them. It’s enough that the dhole takes a drink from his blended vegetable smoothie to calm himself down.

	His excitement for the next part peaks through anyway when he pulls out the pudding, “You can get started on this next.” Lurid, bubbling heat floods his brain the same way it had every time he’d gotten the chance to eat cum himself. The unbidden thought of the dingo’s cock in his mouth or even better, both of theirs in one another’s, nearly short-circuits his brain, causing the following, “I’ll catch up,” to fall weakly from his lips.

	“Are you okay?” he says.

	“Oh, no. It’s the smoothie, I think. They’re bad, but my parents make me drink it for my digestive health. I think you can actually just have that.”

	“Um… thanks dude.”

	Watching the cum-laiden off-white pudding enter the dingo’s cute mouth nearly makes Park spit out his drink when he goes for the next gulp. Especially when it drips off the spoon and collects around his lips. He knew that the sweet, delicate vanilla flavor would easily mask the muskier, saltier cum. He wished he didn’t have to, that he could lighten up on the pudding or, even better, have more cum to give to the handsome dingo whose tongue was sucking up his favorite fluid. Every bite was getting more of that special nectar into the canine’s mouth for him to suck down greedily. Every little lick of the spoon sent an ecstatic shock through the dhole’s brain. 

	All of the attention-driving parts of his brain were hyperfocused on the little differences in the pink tastebuds on the top of his tongue, but the planning part of his brain, unbeknownst to him, launched a coup to take over his mouth.

	“Hey, you should come by for dinner some time,” Park says, heart leaping into his throat when he does. “My parents would love to have you over.”

	“If you make me more pudding, it’s a deal.”

	“Actually, my dads’ made that. It’s their specialty.”