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Description
Forty. Four fuckin' decades old.
Chris stared at his reflection in the mirror. A sigh. He swore he could see wrinkles that weren't there last week. His choice of careers had certainly taken a toll on his body. He splashed cold water on his face. His stubble tickled his palm lightly as he rubbed his wet hand across his face. He considered shaving it off for a moment but decided against it.
He closed the bathroom door behind him as he exited. The TV was on. The 6:00 news, it sounded like. He could hear metal clanging around in the kitchen. Running water.
He rounded the corner into the kitchen. The lights were dimmed. On the kitchen table sat a German chocolate cake with two candles flickering on the top – one "4" and the other shaped like a "0". He couldn't help but smile. The dishes in the sink made him assume it was homemade. His mood instantly improved.
"Happy Birthday, Captain." His boyfriend smiled a rare smile at him. He was holding two glasses of milk.
Chris took a seat at the table, grinning now. "...Did you make this cake, Piers?"
"Spent all day on it, Captain."
Chris smiled again. He liked the way Piers sounded when he called him 'Captain.' He liked the way it rolled off of his tongue. It just sounded right. Felt right, too.
"Looks delicious."
"...you should make a wish before the wax gets all over the cake." Piers set one of the glasses of milk on the table.
"...I wish that the rest of my birthdays are like this. With you." Chris blew out the candles that had already started to leave little drops of white candle wax on the frosting.
"...you're not supposed to say it out loud, Captain." He responded, but Chris could see him smiling again.
"...just cut me a piece of that cake, Nivans.... That's an order."
Turning 40 wasn't so bad. Not with Piers around.

Description
Forty. Four fuckin' decades old.
Chris stared at his reflection in the mirror. A sigh. He swore he could see wrinkles that weren't there last week. His choice of careers had certainly taken a toll on his body. He splashed cold water on his face. His stubble tickled his palm lightly as he rubbed his wet hand across his face. He considered shaving it off for a moment but decided against it.
He closed the bathroom door behind him as he exited. The TV was on. The 6:00 news, it sounded like. He could hear metal clanging around in the kitchen. Running water.
He rounded the corner into the kitchen. The lights were dimmed. On the kitchen table sat a German chocolate cake with two candles flickering on the top – one "4" and the other shaped like a "0". He couldn't help but smile. The dishes in the sink made him assume it was homemade. His mood instantly improved.
"Happy Birthday, Captain." His boyfriend smiled a rare smile at him. He was holding two glasses of milk.
Chris took a seat at the table, grinning now. "...Did you make this cake, Piers?"
"Spent all day on it, Captain."
Chris smiled again. He liked the way Piers sounded when he called him 'Captain.' He liked the way it rolled off of his tongue. It just sounded right. Felt right, too.
"Looks delicious."
"...you should make a wish before the wax gets all over the cake." Piers set one of the glasses of milk on the table.
"...I wish that the rest of my birthdays are like this. With you." Chris blew out the candles that had already started to leave little drops of white candle wax on the frosting.
"...you're not supposed to say it out loud, Captain." He responded, but Chris could see him smiling again.
"...just cut me a piece of that cake, Nivans.... That's an order."
Turning 40 wasn't so bad. Not with Piers around.