Shuichi hummed softly as he crept towards the front door. He'd already dressed for the day, having chosen a plain pair of torn up jeans and a white t-shirt and done so as Eiri slept in their bedroom. The singer had done his best to keep the noise down as his lover rested.

He just wasn't sure why he had bothered, especially since he knew exactly at what time Eiri had finally joined him in bed. The author had pulled another all-nighter to meet his Monday morning deadline and would probably end up sleeping until tomorrow.

That also meant that the author would not be awake to celebrate his birthday with him. Shuichi knew it. It hurt – it always hurt – but there really wasn't anything for it. Their careers did not afford the time the same way that lesser jobs might have.

'Doesn't matter,' Shuichi told himself, slipping his feet into his shoes. 'I can always go over to Hiro's . . . he'll celebrate with me.'

At least, that's what he was telling himself when a strong pair of arms encircled his waist and pulled him back. Shuichi had to refrain from squeaking out in surprise.

"Where do you think you're going, brat?" Eiri's voice sounded gruff in his ear.

"Out . . ."

"No."

"No?" Shuichi did his best to twist around so he could look Eiri in his eyes. "What do you mean 'no'? I've already . . ."

"Just what it means. No. Now come on."

Before he could protest any further, Eiri lifted him up and carried him back into the bedroom. Once there, he unceremoniously dumped Shuichi onto the bed then hovered over him. Eiri had him pinned seconds later.

"Eiri . . ."

"You're not going anywhere today," his lover informed him, settling on top of the singer. "I'm not going to listen to you bitch about how you spent your birthday alone, either. So keep your mouth shut. Got it?"

For a moment, Shuichi only stared, his mouth hanging open slightly in light of this strange development. Then he smiled and nodded at the same time Eiri captured his lips in a smoldering kiss that somehow tasted like strawberries . . .