When I wake up, the bed next to me is empty, but I don’t
worry. I can hear bumping in the kitchen
and the sheets where he slept are still warm.
I’m not ready to move yet, but I breathe in deeply and the pillow smells
like him, bright and sweet and sleepy.
There’s really no reason for him to keep two pillows on his bed, when I
spend the night we end up entwined so close that our heads share the same one. My bones ache to stretch out but I don’t
budge. I can still feel the ghost of his
arms, of his breath on my neck. If I
move I might break the spell.
Pathetic, I think to myself. We’ve been dating for months and still not a
day goes by that I don’t think it must be a dream, it’s too good to be true.
door swings open slowly with one soft creak, and my eyes have drifted closed
again but I don’t bother to open them.
His bare feet tiptoe across the room, there’s a clink as he sets
something down on the bedside table (a glass of water, maybe) and he climbs
back into bed, careful not to disturb me, slotting himself in the crook of my
neck as though neither of us had ever moved.
He gives a sleepy sigh as he settles into place, and the sound alone
makes me smile despite myself.
decide I’ve been unresponsive long enough and press a kiss to his forehead.
chuckles quietly. “Are you awake or
having a really nice dream?”
finally open my eyes as he wiggles himself higher up the pillow so we’re level,
which makes me smirk a little. The
height difference between us isn’t massive, but it’s enough that he has to
stand on tiptoe to kiss me. It’s why he
takes advantage of the time we spend horizontal.
kisses my mouth, quick and warm. “I’ve
got something for you.”
“Oh?” What more could I possibly need right now?
“Yeah. Sit up.”
want to protest as he pulls away from me and the air between us goes cold in
his absence, but I follow as he retrieves a small plate from the nightstand,
the thing I heard him place there a moment ago.
On the dish are two chocolate cupcakes with immaculately swirled icing,
one blue, one yellow. The frosting is so
perfect that it has to be from the bakery downstairs. Not that I mind, cupcakes are cupcakes.
in bed, eh?” I smile as he pushes the plate towards me, sitting cross-legged on
well, I would’ve made you a real breakfast in bed,” he blushes, “but after last
drop a kiss on his nose. “I prefer the
kitchen fully functional, anyway.”
blushes harder, but he’s smiling down at his lap. “Happy birthday, Baz.”
start. I had completely forgotten that
was today. “How did you…”
told me.” He shakes his head at me. “I can’t believe you weren’t going to say
just another day,” I shrug. No one in my
family ever made a big deal about birthdays.
It just wasn’t that important to us.
your day, Baz,” he insists, starting
to unwrap the blue cupcake.
there’s really no need to -”
“Baz. Every day you make me feel like the most
special boy in the world. It’s your turn
to feel like that, alright?”
says it playfully, but my throat actually closes and I might even tear up a
a moment before he glances away from his cupcake and back up at me, but I still
haven’t spoken, my chest is too swollen.
He sees my expression and smiles almost shyly. “Alright?” he says again.
you, Simon,” I manage.
do. It’s soft and still warm from the
bakery. He must have snuck downstairs as
soon as they opened, still in his pyjamas.
I wonder if he threw on a shirt to do it. He’s not wearing one now. There’s a smudge of blue on the corner of his
mouth from the icing, and I hope there’s not yellow on mine. “You know,” I venture, “you have my full
permission to bring me cupcakes in bed whenever you feel like it.”
keep that in mind.”
lick the icing off our fingers and brush the chocolate crumbs from the
bedspread. “So, what are we doing today?”
he asks, completely oblivious to the frosting on his mouth. I can’t look away from it, and I purse my
lips to keep from laughing.
hadn’t thought about it.”
it’s your day,” he muses. “Is there
anything you want to do?”
decide it’s time for some fun and shift closer to him until there’s only a
breath between us. “Absolutely,” I grin.
goes scarlet from his ears to his collarbone, catching my drift immediately. I want to laugh at how easily I can fluster
him but I really have no right to because just seeing his reaction is enough to
have me blushing just as hard. As if I’ve
never teased him like this before. As if
we haven’t been in plenty of far more compromising positions than this. Fucking pathetic.
well,” he stammers, “we can definitely pencil that in.”
bring a hand up to cup his face and his cheek is burning to the touch. Not fever-burning, just
“Baz?” His voice is smaller than I think I’ve ever
I lean in the rest of the way, he responds immediately, tangling a hand in my
hair and scratching the back of my neck with the other, gently but not idly. His mouth is hot as always and sweet with
frosting, and I purposely focus my attentions on the spot of blue at the corner
of his lips. I’ve never cared much for
chocolate but I can taste it on his mouth and right now I love chocolate, would eat it indefinitely and it could never be as
good as this, as my hand on his waist and my name on his lips.
actually tries to pull me back to him when I break away a moment and an ecstasy
later, even though he’s gasping for air and falling backwards against my hands
like he’s lost his sense of direction, and Crowley, I want to follow him, to
kiss him into the mattress until the sun goes down, to stay exactly like this
until we fall asleep, only to wake up in the morning and start all over again,
but I stay where I am. “Simon,” I say
he whispers, eyes still closed.
got frosting on your face.”
hand whips out of my hair and to his mouth, and he rolls his eyes when he finds
the icing still there, despite my endeavors.
“Really Baz,” he mutters as he wipes it away with the back of his hand, “you
couldn’t have just said something?”
way was more fun.”
and pushes me back until I’m propped up on my elbows. “You know, you’ve got something on your face,
too,” he breathes when he’s only an inch above my lips.
shuts me up with his mouth.
never find out if he was lying or not, but I sure as hell don’t care.
back memories. I made these when I was a kid. During this season, the Monastery is
busy with local events. Nii-san and I weren’t good at crafts, so our
decorations looked awful… but Father Fujimoto put them up anyway. He said, “Quantity
before quality!”, so we never got any better.