Sometimes dates were easy to forget, especially when you're someone who's constantly wracked with at least one kind of writing dealine 24/7. If you add the stress of a relationship with a tall, tan, perfect haired man to that, well, a date is going to be the last thing you remember. Is it Tuesday? Or is it Saturday? Sunday maybe? Yeah, it was Sunday. Chuck was rushing his way back home from the store so he could get back to writing the book series that had consumed his entire life. He was so close to being finished. He just had to revise a few chapters then send it off to the publishers. With a paper bag in hand, he fumbled with his keys to get his front door unlocked. To his surprise, the door was already unlocked. He opened it slowly, peeking around it before entering and closing it behind him. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, maybe he just forgot to lock it when he left. Then that tall, tan, perfect haired man walked around the corner from his living room. "Hey, Chuck." He smiled widely. He was holding in one hand a large bouquet of roses and a heart shaped red box in the other. As happy as Chuck wanted to be, his heart sank. That was the date he was forgetting, Valentine's day. "Oh, Sam..." Chuck was about to apologize and more or less beg for forgiveness, but Sam shoved the roses and chocolates into his hands and pulled him into a long, gentle kiss. He pulled away and kept a small smile "I know you forgot, but you've been under a lot of pressure with your books so I just assumed you would push it to the back of your mind." He was so soft and gentle in the way he spoke. Chuck didn't feel like he deserved someone so amazing, someone who cared about him as much as Sam did, but he was so grateful to have him. "So let's forget that you forgot, and get to drinking that bottle of whiskey you have in your bag. Chuck finally cracked a wide smile "Yeah, okay."