"What should I get you for your birthday, 'hiro?" Nagase Tomoya is sprawled across the sofa in the apartment which they share, one arm draped over the edge, the other clutching a cushion to his chest. "I mean, there's a lot of things I could get ya, but I wanna make sure it's something you really want, y'know?"
"Nothin', you idiot." Matsuoka Masahiro - known to some of his friends, and especially Tomoya, by his nickname of 'Mabo' - looks up from the magazine he's been reading, smiling at his ridiculously affectionate boyfriend. Sometimes, it's like having an oversized puppy. "You don't gotta get me anythin'. You know that."
"Nnnnnnn! But I want to give Mabo a present." Squirming and twisting about like a large child, Tomoya positions himself to look his partner in the eye, all the better to fix him with a sullen pout. "You're special to me. You're my boyfriend. I can't just get you nothing."
"I'm sure you'll manage." He dismisses Tomoya's whining with a wave of his hand. "I just wanna chill an' enjoy the day, maybe hang out with you an' the guys later. There ain't nothin' I can't live without. Except a beer, maybe."
Tomoya makes a sound of distress and dissatisfaction, but he knows better than to argue with Mabo when he's made a decision like this. Still, he's already getting ideas; perhaps there is something he can do...
Masahiro's big day finally arrives, and - as so often happens - he's busy filming while Tomoya is left to his own devices, staying in the apartment alone. It's not the ideal way to spend his birthday, but at least he knows he has his other half to go back to; and no sooner has he finished his work for the day - some banal variety show where he had to pretend to lord it over his kouhai, when all he really wanted to do was relax and have a drink - then he flips open his phone to check his messages, only to see there are several from Tomoya.
What's that about? It's not like him to keep texting, unless something's wrong, and they're all telling me to hurry home. Did something happen?
His anticipation of heading home now underpinned by a thread of concern, Masahiro hails down a taxi and wastes no time in returning to the apartment; he's about to turn the key in the front door when there's a scuffling sound from inside and the door opens, framing Tomoya's face in the entranceway. Only his face, though; the rest of the man's body remains hidden by the door itself.
"Mabo's home!" Tomoya seems happy, although there's something about that smile which Masahiro reads as a little... sheepish. "Welcome back!"
"What's going on, Tomo-kun?" Masahiro is suspicious, but also curious; whenever Tomoya is hiding something, his secrets generally turn out to be selfless. "Can I come in? Y'know... to my own house?"
"I, ah... I'm wearin' what I got you for your birthday." There's the most delicious flush to Tomoya's cheeks as he says this. "What you asked for."
"Huh? But I told you not to get me anythin'...."
The realisation suddenly hits, and Tomoya blushes an even deeper shade of red.
Masahiro grins. He can't get inside that door fast enough.