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     After work, I was met with the door to my cottage. The ivy overran the pinewood walls, laying over the edges of my roof and sprawling over the porch's hardwood floor. Fumbling about with my keys, a realization washed over me.

"How was work?"

     Jay had startled me. Hitting my back against the door with panicked eyes, before I relaxed myself.

"Oh! You surprised me there."

     He smirked cheerfully.

"That so?"

"Yes..."

     His attire was on the casual side. A knit pullover in light oranges and pinks with a tie and collar poking out from underneath. His trousers were simple—cool but, simple.

"You like my outfit?" He rested on the door frame, "decided to go with something more... loose."

"It's nice. I like it."

     I could've sworn his eyes lit up, just a bit before he continued his mellow demeanor.

"I just noticed something, Jay. Yesterday was my birthday and I missed it. I'm so forgetful!"

     He moved his arm away from the door frame, and embraced me tightly. Those strong arms of his made it difficult to move in the slightest.

"Happy birthday, Nick!" He continued, happily, "Why, I'll my ask my chef to bake you an incredible cake, with three tiers and all."

      His excited tone drowned me in happiness.

"It's alright. We can make one in my kitchen."

     Freeing from his embrace, Jay tilted his head.

"That would be splendid too... But, I think that having such a birthday cake would feel more celebratory."

"It's the thought that counts, Jay."

     I led him into my small house, taking off my coat and hat.

"Let's get the flour, eggs, and—"

"Why don't you walk into the kitchen with me?"

"U-Uh. Yes."

     I couldn't help but laugh at his dumbfounded expression. I could see that Jay was more of a planner that I ever was. While I simply went with the flow of what I could remember from all those times I baked desserts during holidays, special occasions, and so on.

     We stirred the batter. A tender dream it was. At times, our hands would touch; I brushed up against his brown skin. He would take off his sweater and tie, rolling up his sleeves, unbuttoning his shirt. Admittedly, I did look. How could I not? Jay was masculine beauty at it's finest, a symbol of the ideal man. And yet, instead of partying, chasing after women and peering into their lives: he was with me, celebrating my birthday. No matter how distant we were, how close we were... we were still in each others' lives. Heart to heart.

"Wow..." he uttered, "Nick, you're right; it's the truly thought that counts."

     I smiled softly, it felt as though I made it for him rather than for me.

"Let's cut the cake."

     We sat at a smaller table; I really didn't have the money nor space to get a larger one. He offered to cut the cake, pausing.

"We should get you some candles, I can call a chauffeur--"

"Jay, it's fine. I don't need candles," I leaned closer to him, "as long as you're here, I'm okay."

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