Nero woke up to a good start to his day. Granted, it was a Wednesday and everyone around him had middle-of-the-week blues, but nothing could possibly get him down today. The main reason he was happy? It was his birthday. His ideal morning routine included walking to his work five and a half blocks away, stopping at the bakery across the street and claiming ownership of some bear claws with two cups of strong coffee, making his way to the fourth floor where his desk sat.

He was in a new city: his family and friends had told him it was a good idea to find work outside known territory, but the thought brought unknowing setbacks. The city itself housed no one he knew, and he was forced to start fresh. Not that it was ever a bad thing, but Nero enjoyed the familiarity that his hometown provided him. The new environment was unlike anything he had been exposed to, and so far the only exploration he had done was visit the bakery across the street from his work after hours.

He did, however, make one friend. The baker from across the street was anything but a baker when you first see him. Standing at six feet five inches – with broad shoulders and built like a brick house – 'baker' was not the first thought that came to his mind when he saw Dante. The burly man had arms the size of small children and belonged anywhere but a confectionary. Nevertheless, there he stood in his white t-shirt one size too small, and a baby blue apron that brought out the colour of his eyes. Nero had never bothered looking over the counter below the apron. He didn't need that type of stimulation. He had only ever drooled in the shop: it was either at the array of freshly baked cakes and sweets or the owner himself. He was never greeted by anything but a smile, and mixed with the smell of cooked goods brought the younger man to his knees.

"The usual, Nero?"

He was shaken from his daydream by the familiar booming voice that greeted him every day for the past four months. His head snapped behind the counter and his attention was drawn to the smirk of the older man. "Or are you feeling a bit feisty today?"

"Feisty?"

"Yeah, feisty. Choosing something other than two bear claws." Dante busied himself prepping the cardboard box to hold Nero's chosen treats.

"You know what? Yes, I am. Give me doule!"

A smile spread across Dante's face as he tried to stifle a giggle. "As you so wish, kid."

Dante adopted the nickname when he made an off the cuff delivery to Nero's office. Nero is the youngest in the office, and his colleagues teased him relentlessly. Dante had not made things better by delivering a box of pink box of treats and two strawberry milkshakes.

"Anything else for you, kid?"

"No thanks. It's bad enough I'm going two over budget, and my stomach will kill me at the gym. Not that I go to gym, but I do think about going to gym. And that burns just as many calories." Nero reached into his back pocket and retrieved his wallet.

"Oh no, now you're gonna have to think twice as much! Don't overheat now, kid. I need to make a living." Dante carefully placed the box inside a brown paper bag and handed it to Nero. The younger male stole a glance around the shop. It was normally quite busy, being the only bakery in a business district within a seven mile radius, but today's conversational buzz was at a higher pitch than most days.

"Hey, something special happening today?"

"Huh?" He realised what Nero was referring to. "Oh no, I'm closing early. This is the folk that generally stop by before they head home. Three cups of coffee minimum. For what, I will never know." Dante gave him a suggestive wink and Nero turned the same shade of pink as the strawberry milkshake he once had delivered to his place of work. He gripped the bag in his left and paid with his right. "Ya know what, kid? Today's on me."

"Yesterday was on you too. And the day before that."

Dante shrugged. "I've been in a good mood lately."

"Really though. Please just take it. I'm practically stealing from you." He held the money out to the baker, who refused to take it.

"I'm sure I can get over four missing bear claws. Hell, I might have eaten them myself, got into a food coma, and just forget I ate them. See? Dilemma solved." He let out a chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck, an act that showed off the real size of his arms.

"Okay then. Guess I'll see you tomorrow?" Nero turned just in time for Dante to miss his blush. Dante returned a comical salute.

The end of the day could not be more welcome. Nero was too tired to cook, so he went the easy route and got Chinese on the way home. His plans were simple: a nice long bath, soft pyjamas, eat, open a bottle of wine, eat some more, tuck into the rest of the bear claws he purchased earlier, drink some more, and find a good romantic comedy he could fall asleep to. He was halfway through his birthday routine when he heard a knock on the door. He wasn't expecting anyone tonight, and that's why his plan was so brilliant. His conscience, however, prevented him from outright ignoring the knock. He didn't bother pausing the movie he was watching; it was a bad part anyway, so he pulled himself together and answered the door.

Nothing could have prepared him for this. There, on his doorstep, was a towering mess of black material that could not have been put together more perfectly: Dante wore a long sleeve black cotton shirt with the cuffs rolled back and the first two buttons undone, a black pair of skinny jeans that showed off his toned legs, and the manliest pair of Jack Purcells a man had ever worn. He tried concentrating on his shoes to quell his excitement and noticed the cutest detail: was he wearing pink socks? To top it all off, Dante's was holding a pink-frosted cake in his hands, complete with real strawberries and shavings of chocolate.

"Happy Birthday, Nero."

He stepped back to let the bigger man in. "How on earth did you know?"

Dante moved over the threshold and deeper into the younger man's apartment. He found a solid surface on which to lay the cake and journeyed into Nero's quaint kitchen to locate two plates and cups. Nero was still staring as he closed the door, clearly confused. "The calendar on your desk? This date is circled with a blue marker, and I know your favourite colour is blue. I put two and two together and got five. Easy."

He walked to the couch carrying a knife and cut the cake in half, then in quarters, and then each quarter into thirds until there were twelve equal pieces. He looked up and Nero. "You gonna eat?" He popped an entire piece in his mouth and began to lick his fingers. "I pwomih yew, ighs weawy goog." Dante's cheeks puffed with every chew.

A vibrant smile slid across Nero's face as he joined his friend on the couch. The movie was almost finished, but Nero couldn't care less. He followed suit and stuffed an entire piece in his mouth: the cake had been a bigger, rounder version of a bear claw. There was popping candy inside, and Nero had to squeeze his face as the sweetness of the strawberries hit the back of his jaw. He then giggled when the popping candy took full effect. "You like it?"

Nero could only nod. He enjoyed the sentiment of Dante fusing two of their favourite things together. "You didn't have to do this."

"You can't be alone on your birthday, kid. Coming from me, that's pretty sad."

Dante grabbed the comforter resting on the back of the couch and laid it across his lap. He removed his shoes – and yes, he was wearing pink socks – and tucked his feet underneath him. He spread the blanket and tucked in one end, holding the other end open for Nero. "Come on, birthday boy, its warm under here."

Nero made a slug-like manoeuvre and wiggled next to Dante. Wow. It was warm. "What about my cake?" he asked, stuffing another piece into his mouth.

"Haha, you keep the top open." He reached to the able and held the cake between them. "Then when you're done you flip it closed." He returned the cake to the table and sealed the blanket between them. "See? Magic!" He went back to his previous position holding the cake and grabbed another slice. After successfully covering his lips in strawberry frosting, he pulled Nero closer. The younger male leaned in a little bit too much, but his position was corrected when Dante slipped his arm behind Nero's back and tucked his end in. His fingers traced the squirming man's spine – when Dante's hands reached the base of his skull, he moved it to his shoulder.

Nero took advantage of this gesture, and moved his legs across Dante's lap. His arms found their way around his neck and his head rested on his chest. In the same motion, Dante cocooned Nero in his arms, his gaze never leaving the top of his head. Nero snuggled closer and felt a strawberry peck on his forehead. "I like this," Dante said, and he could feel a blush enveloping Nero's face.

He woke up with a sharp pain in his head, a strawberry taste on his lips and a note next to his head. It read, "You're paying for this tomorrow."

Best. Birthday. Ever.