Title: Happy Birthday
Summary: Michael has a surprise for Ian's 23rd birthday.
Word count: 2054
Disclaimers: I don't own them, I wish I did, but I don't. It's not real, never took place, yadda yadda yadda.
Other: Just a bit of cutesy fluff. Okay, so this wasn't even written on Ian's birthday, but we can all just forget that, right? Right.
Ian awoke with a jolt. A bit disoriented, he looked around, confused. Once his vision cleared, he saw Michael sitting at the end of his bed, grinning like a madman. Ian ran a hand through his hair. “Christ Michael, that scared the hell out of me,” he said.
“I know,” Michael laughed. “Happy Birthday!” Ian looked at his clock.
“Michael, it’s 12:03 in the morning,” he groaned.
“Your point?” Michael asked, still grinning.
“My point is that I’m tired and I just want to go back to bed.”
“No can do. We’re celebrating.”
“It’s the middle of the night,” Ian yawned, “we can celebrate in the morning.”
“You’re no fun. Get up.”
“Michael Fred Phelps if you don’t shut up and let me sleep I will murder you.”
Michael laughed. “No you won’t.”
“Nope. Give me five minutes, please?” Michael was beginning to sound like a child begging his mother for a cookie before dinner. Ian sighed.
“Fine, but only five minutes.”
“Great!” Michael said, leaping up. “Come on.”
“You mean I have to get up? I really am going to kill you.” Michael grabbed Ian’s hand and excitedly led him to the kitchen.
“Tada! Happy Birthday Ian.” Sitting on the kitchen table was a slightly lopsided cake with a shoddy icing job. The familiar handwriting on top said, “Happy 23rd Birthday.”
“God Michael, it’s awful,” Ian said, laughing a bit. Michael smiled.
“I know, I know. But I’m not a baker; I’m a swimmer so just shut up and enjoy it.”
“Okay, I’ll get the plates and forks.”
“Oh no you won’t,” Michael insisted. “It’s your birthday. You sit here and I’ll get it ready.” Ian sat in a chair and Michael took the cake away. He sat two plates and two forks on the table. A moment later, he turned around with two unlit candles situated on top of the cake.
“What, I don’t even get lit candles? What kind of birthday party is this?” Ian teased. Michael shook a box of matches in one hand.
“I was getting there you idiot,” he said.
After Ian and Michael had enjoyed a few pieces of the deformed birthday cake, they returned to the bedroom. “You know,” Ian said, “that cake wasn’t actually that bad.”
“I know,” Michael smiled, “I was so worried that we’d die from it.”
“So you let me eat it anyway. Thanks.”
“You’re very welcome,” Michael replied. The two were silent for a few moments.
“Michael? The cake was excellent,” Ian said seriously.
“Thanks,” he paused and smiled, “You know, it’s been far more than five minutes. Are you still planning on killing me?” Ian’s smile instantly changed from serene to wicked.
“If by kill you mean have my way with you, then yes. I definitely plan to.” Michael grinned.
“I’d hoped you’d say that.”
And, the icon...
Dammit. Now I want cake. :( lol. Enjoy!
icon x-posted at my icon journal, randomly_iconic. Rules are in my userinfo.