"Do you know what today is, Jack?"

It seemed like an innocent enough question. But before Jack lay a veritable minefield. "Hmmm…Friday?" Jack replied absently, continuing to butter his toast.

They were sitting companionably in the kitchen. It was quite the domestic scene. Arthur slaving over the proverbial hot stove to make breakfast. Jack, as usual, eating. As Jack was fond of saying, Jack did not cook. Unless he was in bed.

"Ummm…yeah. But I meant what today is," Arthur emphasized.

Jack looked puzzled for a moment, then his handsome face suddenly cleared. "Your birthday?"

Arthur sighed softly. "My birthday isn't until January, Jack."

"My birthday?"

"I don't even know when your birthday is, Jack. You won't tell anyone."

"It's in May. Like Brian's," Jack said with a gleam in his dark eyes. "But-"

"-it's a secret. I know, Jack," Arthur growled through clenched teeth.

Arthur? Placid Arthur? Unfailingly polite Arthur? Jack blinked at him in surprise.

"Bruno's? Robert's?" Now Jack seemed to be guessing, which only had the effect of pissing off the younger man completely.

"It's not a birthday, Jack. Just forget it." Arthur grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and headed for the door.

"Where are you going, my love?" Jack inquired sweetly. "I thought you were going to wait for me to get back from my meeting."

"Changed my mind. I need to go out," Arthur snapped.

"Arthur?" Jack seemed genuinely confused by his lover's shift in mood.

"You remembered my name. Good for you, Jack."

Jack stared after him, his brown eyes reflective. Thought you'd never leave, sweetheart. Thank God you're so predictable.

As soon as the door closed behind Arthur, Jack flew into action. After dialing a familiar number, Jack said huskily, "Curt? Do you have any good champagne?"

Jack frowned. "No, I can't go out and get it myself, Curt. Arthur might come back at any minute."

"What do you mean, Brian says I should have planned all this months ago?"

Despite the fact that he was utterly alone, Jack lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep a secret from that boy?"

"Thank you! You're a lifesaver."

"Yes, I know you're keeping track, Curt. You're all heart," Jack said dryly.

Jack started to hang up the phone, only to note that Curt had one last thing to say. The furrows between Jack's brows deepened. "No, you may not watch while we put it to good use."

By the time the champagne arrived, Jack was nearly ready for Arthur. He looked out the window of the first floor flat and his mouth dropped open. A white stretch limo stood at the curb, an elegantly attired Curt at the wheel. Curt in black tie was truly something to behold, but since he had to put his own particular spin on things, his suit was leather. Brandishing the bottle of Moet et Chandon, Curt tugged at his black cap, as if he were paying obeisance to Jack. "I deliver," Curt said with a wicked grin.

"Nosy bitch," Jack grumbled. "You're not staying, Curt. As nice as the offer is."

"Aww, you take all the fun out of things, Jack."

"As well I should. Does Brian know what you're up to?" Jack asked.

Suddenly a shaggy head popped out of the passenger side of the limo. "You know we travel in two's, Jack," Brian said coyly.

"You, too, Brian?"

"Can I help it if I'm curious to see what kind of a love life you and Arthur have?"

"That's like spying on your parents, dear boy. I'd have thought you were the voice of reason in this relationship."

"Me?" Brian laughed so hard, he almost fell over.

Jack arched an eyebrow. "There's a first time for everything."

Jack in panic mode was not a pretty sight. He glared at Brian, who had the grace to look embarrassed. "Arthur could be on his way right now, and you two are still here. You're going to ruin everything."

Curt had never seen Jack in the throes of real nerves before. All he was lacking was some major hand-wringing and he would have been having a fullblown anxiety attack.

"Jack, Jack, take it easy," Curt soothed, glancing at Brian. "We're outta here, right, babe?"

Brian nodded, a slow sensual smile forming on his lips. "Yeah. I'm sure we can think of something to do with all that black leather, don't you, Curt?"

"Thank you so much for putting that charming picture in my head," Jack protested, looking vaguely discomfited.

Brian snorted and would have taken it further, but Curt hushed him with a finger to his lover's obviously already love-bitten mouth. "Ssh. Such a bad boy, baby."

"It's your fault, Curt. You made me this way."

"And I'm going to make both of you dead if you don't leave right this minute," Jack warned.

"We're going, we're going."

Curt handed the bottle of champagne in its silver ice bucket to Jack and bowed as deeply as he could in tight black leather pants. "Have fun, Jack, and don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"My dear boy, if I listened to you, my choices would be extremely limited."

"Oh, good one, Jack. We're a bit snarky tonight, aren't we?" Brian quipped.

"Goodbye, Brian."

"It's Tommy, Jack. You keep forgetting," Brian sang out.

After waving his free arm dismissively at Brian, Jack turned on his heel and stomped his way into his flat, his back positively rigid.

"Hmm…" Brian said thoughtfully. "Guess Jack's lost his sense of humor."

Curt slid his hand under Brian's chin and pulled his head up to kiss him. "He's a desperate man, baby. You remember how it was with us, don't you?"

"Yeah," Brian answered softly. "Doesn't he know he couldn't lose Arthur if he tried?"

"Not yet. But he will, baby. He will."

Jack silently thanked Curt for bringing the champagne and sent up a prayer that it was already chilled, thanks to him. He looked over the living room. The fire was stoked and burning brightly in the fireplace. It was a cool fall night, and the heat would be welcome.

Especially if Jack had his way with Arthur.

He heard a noise and realized that Arthur had finally come back. His mouth went dry. He couldn't say the wrong thing. If Arthur ever left him…for real…Jack didn't know what he'd do.

"Glad you found your way home, darling."

Arthur greeted him sullenly. "Right."

"Notice anything different?" Jack asked brightly, his heart sinking.

Arthur sniffed. "Smells like something's burning."

"The quiche! Oh, my God!" Jack dashed into the kitchen, his floor-length black gown catching his ankles and tripping him as he crossed the threshold.

"You cooked? For me?" Arthur looked interested for the first time since he'd come in.

Jack gazed in disbelief at the charred mess that was his attempt at dinner. "I…wanted to make you something special."

"To make up for not remembering what day today is?" Arthur asked.

"No!" Jack looked somewhat horrified that he'd actually raised his voice. "I mean…oh, bloody hell. Happy anniversary, Arthur. I made an utter mess of things."

Jack was apologizing to him? Jack?

"You remembered?" Arthur asked, his heart aching for what he'd inadvertently put Jack through. "I thought…" Arthur lowered his head and hid his face, but Jack cupped his chin in his hand.

"What did you think, love?"

"That you were starting to take me for granted," Arthur whispered, his dark eyes beginning to glisten.

"Oh, no, my love. I could never do that. You're much too important to me."

"Really?"

Jack gripped Arthur's left hand and gently rubbed the wedding ring he had put there one year ago. "I asked you to marry me, Arthur. One year ago today." Jack's voice broke, and Arthur stared at him, his eyes growing moist. Jack never cried. Never.

"I know I don't tell you nearly enough, but-"

Arthur reached up and kissed him, effectively silencing him. At least for the moment. When he drew back, he wasn't the only one who looked stunned. "You love me."

"Very much."

"You really do," Arthur whispered.

"Yes."

"That's all right then," Arthur said, breaking into a beatific smile.

"There's champagne, baby."

"Wow."

"Thanks to Curt."

"You called him, though. Didn't you?"

Jack nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

They walked slowly into the living room. The fire glowed warmly, the only real light in the entire room. An oversized comforter lay on the floor in front of the fireplace, clearly meant to be a makeshift bed. "I thought we could-"

"We could," Arthur agreed.

"After the champagne, of course."

"I don't think I've ever seen you like this, Jack. All tongue-tied and insecure. Like me."

"You're the only one who makes me feel this way, sweetness."

Arthur ducked his head again. "You make me feel powerful or something, Jack," he confessed softly.

"Don't you know you are, baby?"

"Is that love, Jack?"

"Absolutely, my love."

They undressed each other in front of the fire, the firelight painting their bodies with gold. "So beautiful, Arthur. So beautiful," Jack said, captivated by the sight of his lover's nakedness.

Arthur lay down first, the downy softness of the comforter pressing into his back and thighs. Jack settled atop his lover, his half-erect cock nestling against Arthur's groin. "We forgot the champagne."

"I don't need champagne to get drunk looking at you, Jack."

"I want to make love to you."

"Please," Arthur begged. Jack's thumbs rubbed back and forth on Arthur's cheeks, holding him fast for a series of warm, wet kisses.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Arthur."

"Probably eat cold cereal in the morning," Arthur said with a shy smile.

"I would eat nothing at all if it meant I could keep you with me forever, baby."

To Jack's astonishment, Arthur blushed and buried his hot face against Jack's neck. "You always think of the right thing to say."

"With you as my inspiration, I could do nothing else."

"Jack…"

"What is it, love?"

"Make love to me."

Jack groaned and rolled onto his back, taking Arthur with him, essentially reversing their positions. "I was thinking…maybe…"

"What?" Arthur pressed his warm mouth to Jack's neck and nuzzled the tender skin there.

Jack's hand found its way into Arthur's hair, his fingers clutching at the longish strands that were growing damp and sweaty from the heat. "I want you-"

"I want you, too, Jack," Arthur exclaimed, ardently kissing Jack's mouth.

Jack broke the kiss and held Arthur still. "I want you to make love to me."

"Jack…"

"I've never let anyone possess me the way you do, Arthur. You already have my heart, baby. I want this. More than anything else you could give me," Jack whispered.

Arthur bit his lip. "What if I'm no good at it, Jack?"

"Oh, my love. You and I together…are far better than we could ever be…apart. No matter how we fit."

"We do fit, don't we, Jack?" Arthur asked diffidently.

"Oh, yes."

Arthur's hesitancy made his lovemaking all the more dear to Jack. He flowed over and into Jack like a warm ocean breeze drifting through his soul. They kissed over and over, impatient to see the act completed, because it meant that they could lie in each other's arms that much longer.

Arthur's soft moan caught Jack's ear and they came within moments of one another, their salty wetness mingling even as their bodies cooled.

"Happy anniversary, Jack," Arthur murmured against Jack's cheek. "I love you."

If Jack never heard another word in his life, he would die happy in his beloved's arms. They both would.

That was love.

End