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Noah opened the door, and for a moment he just blinked at Al, surprised. He hadn't expected anyone to remember his birthday, and had, in fact, almost forgotten it himself. A small but delighted smile appeared on his face, and he said, "I, hi, um, I didn't -- "

The cupcake took that moment to try to make good its escape, and Noah interrupted himself with a small yelp and grabbed at it as it described a graceful arc downward. The result was a somewhat squished cupcake and frosting all over Noah's hand, but the confection had been rescued from an untimely and wasteful death on the floor. "Um," Noah said sheepishly, "I'm sorry, I think i messed it up. There's a balloon stuck to your head," he added, noticing suddenly.

"Here, come in before you drop stuff," Noah said, stepping back. He paused a moment, looking thoughtfully at the candle and considering his wish, then blew out the small flame. "There, saved."

He got a tissue out of the box on the windowsill and set the cupcake down on top of it his desk, then licked the frosting off his fingers absently. "Thank you. I really didn't expect anything." A couple of steps let him rescue the clinging balloon from the back of Al's head. "I guess it likes your shampoo or something."

"A million dollars," Noah answered, laughing. He tried to release the balloon, but it clung stubbornly to his hand. He tied the string to the back of the chair, then pulled his hand away until the static cling let go. "There."

He just looked at the balloons and presents for a few moments, admiring the display and not quite sure what else to say. "Should I open them?"

"Get a laptop modified for runics, and an ipod, and books, lots of books," Noah replied promptly. "I could think of more stuff if I tried. I bet you could too."

The room hadn't changed much since Al had last been in it; a couple of superhero posters had been added to the walls, a fluffy rug was on the floor beside the bed, and some new books had taken up residence on the shelves, but otherwise it was the same as it had been, sparse and not the tidiest, books and various notebooks and papers inhabiting all flat surfaces. Decorating wasn't Noah's strong point, and he was optimistic enough to feel that he should save any real efforts for an eventual move upstairs.

Noah looked a little nervous at Al's answer, but he smiled anyway. "Nah, don't sing," he said, waving his hands in hasty negation. "If you sing I'll have to sing it on your birthday so, y'know, that'd suck." He picked up the cupcake and peeled the wrapper off, then pulled it carefully apart and offered Al half. "Do you want some?"

"Good, because I like, can't sing to save my life." Noah folded himself down into his desk chair and tucked one leg up, resting his heel on the seat of the chair. He nibbled on his half of the cupcake and watched Al investigate his room. His books were primarily science fiction novels and nonfiction books on various subjects, as well as a few assorted fantasy novels and gardening and agricultural volumes dense enough to choke a horse. A novel with a florid-looking cover and a questionable title lay on the windowsill, and when Noah noticed he'd left it out, he froze briefly, then decided to pretend it wasn't a big deal. Maybe if he pretended it wasn't a big deal Al wouldn't tease him about it.

"I don't want a house in town," he said. "I heard they get destroyed a lot. But a king sized bed would be awesome. Like, one of those really fancy mattresses maybe. Can you really get equipment to keep minipets?" he asked. "I mean, I don't have any special minis of my own, but that would be cool."

Noah slid down slowly in his chair, blushing bright red, as Al took an interest in his book. Fortunately, Al didn't comment, and put the book down; unfortunately, both of them knew perfectly well what had been on that page. Pretending that nobody had seen it was merciful. Noah would take it.

"What'd you catch?" he asked, and tried to pretend he wasn't blushing horribly. "How'd you do it?"

"Um. Is it cute?" Noah got up and scooted over to get another tissue, wiping totally imaginary remnants of frosting off his fingers. "What's it like, what are you going to, um, no, nothing's wrong," and he didn't look at Al, a little fragment of anger and resentment reawakening in his heart. His friend. Something else, in another world, but not this one; if things had gone differently, but they hadn't. Al hadn't stayed. Noah hadn't been important enough.

They were friends, and that was all. "If you wanna borrow the book, um, just, you can," Noah said, and his chest ached.