"Having a good party?" Tom crossed the patio, a drink in either hand.
Abraxas glanced over his shoulder, taking one of the glasses. "Something like that."/
They stood, shoulders just brushing, watching the peacocks shy away from the shafts of light crossing the garden.
"I didn't bring you a present, Abraxas," Tom said, eventually.
Abraxas shivered slightly when Tom said his name. "It's fine, you weren't expected to."
"What would you like for your birthday, Abraxas?" His voice was smooth and Abraxas felt a sudden wish for no one else to ever say his name.
"Why are you calling me that?" His voice shook the tiniest bit, and he cursed inwardly.
Tom's smile grew. "What, Abraxas? We're friends, aren't we? I call my friends by their name."
Abraxas finished his drink. "Yes, we're friends, Tom."
"I have an idea for a present, but I'm not sure you'll like it." Tom set his glass down, drink barely touched, turning to face him.
Abraxas did the same, his breath catching when he met Tom's eyes. There was somethings there that Abraxas couldn't quite make out. "I'm sure I'll like it."
"Well then, let's find a better place for it. A little more private." Tom's hand twitched with the urge to reach for Abraxas as they left the patio.
They walked together in silence until they reached a copse of trees. Tom could feel the magic surround him like a blanket and looked about in wonder.
Abraxas watched him for a second. "This is where they used to do magic, before we had wands. Back when it was real." Tom just smiled in response, too lost in it.
They didn't know how long they stood there. At some point, their hands shifted until they were entwined, palms pressed together so tightly they could feel the other's heartbeat.
"Do you want your present now?" Tom's voice broke the silence and it felt like the trees themselves were waiting for the answer.
Abraxas nodded, unsurprised when Tom stepped in front of him, still holding his hand. Their lips brushed with a delicacy they didn't know existed as the trees thrummed around them, magic seeping into and spilling out of them.
When Tom leaned back, pressing his forehead against Abraxas', he laughed slightly as Abraxas struggled to get his hands out of Tom's hair. Once he was free, Abraxas sagged against the tree he couldn't remember backing into, eyes closed.
Neither noticed the sparks still coming from them and flying high above them. They couldn't hear the chatter of party guests on the patio, watching the display, over the blood rushing in their ears. And they couldn't have imagined the worried look Abraxas' parents shared as they guessed the source of the sparks.