The usual

Jake nods and leaves the room, careful not to touch last night's cumrag as he closes the door behind him. He stops by the bathroom for a quick piss, lazily brushing his hair with his hands before heading downstairs.

He reaches the kitchen just as Eric pulls the first frozen breakfast burrito out of the microwave, casually taking it from his hands as soon as he turns around.

"Help yourself," Eric grunts, slightly annoyed, then goes to get another one out of the freezer. "Is Janie coming?"

"In a bit. She's getting dressed or something."

"Ew..." he grimaces, clearly suspicious of what might've happened in the bedroom last night. "You two didn't...?"

Jake grins, "You wish, dude! The bet was for sleeping, so we just slept. If I want more, you'll be the first to know."

Eric calls him as asshole under his breath as Jake takes his first bite of the burrito. It's still half-frozen in the middle--exactly how it's meant to be served. He takes it into the living room, sits on the couch, and kicks his feet up on the coffee table to enjoy the meal.

The three of them have the house to themselves all weekend. Eric and Janie's parents are away on some joint business trip, like usual. Janie isn't officially in charge, but Jake can't help but remember the old days when she used to babysit them both. The thought does nothing to soften his morning wood.

Eric comes in with his own burrito and grabs the remote, turning on Antiques Roadshow. Sure, it isn't the most macho thing for two guys to watch, but there's not much else worth watching on a Saturday morning.

"I can't believe the junk some people bring in," Eric says, shaking his head at an old lady's set of carnival glass bowls.

"Junk? Last time somebody brought in glassware like that it blew everyone's minds!" Jake isn't sure why he's so confident about this, but the words slip out of his mouth before he's even conscious of thinking them. "I'll bet you those bowls are worth over $1,000. If I'm wrong, I do the cooking this weekend."

That was a bit of a self-serving forfeit, since Eric never seemed to learn how to use a stovetop. Jake wasn't an impressive chef or anything, but at least he could cook actual food.

"Sure," Eric nods, "but what do you want if you're right?"

"A handjob. Right here on the couch. From you or Janie, I don't care, but the other has to watch."