If there was one thing that Caspian Lyons-Gallo was, it was a celebrator.
Not a partier. He had never been the sort of person who liked to go and get slobbering drunk, or dance on tables, or get caught throwing up in some random dude's bathroom (he had never seen the appeal of it - what was the point in getting so drunk that you couldn't remember the good time you'd had?). He hadn't cared about yelling himself hoarse and throwing a beer keg around, or whatever it was that dumb jocks did these days.
No, he was a celebrator. He celebrated as many holidays as humanly possible, even the most ridiculous, unheard of ones (such as Talk Like a Pirate Day or Sibling Day, the latter of which he'd shown up at Cassie's room one day dressed exactly like her, short skirt and all), because, as Caspian put it, holidays were about celebrations and good times.
Which meant that Michael's birthday was going to be - well, maybe not a grand affair, but it was going to be some sort of happening all the same. Caspian knew perfectly well that his husband was not exactly the sort of man who enjoyed being the center of attention or really cared about wild and crazy shindigs, which was exactly why Caspian hadn't planned one. He'd planned things, but they were Michael-themed-things, not massive party plan things, because that would have just resulted in an unhappy and probably grumpy Michael, and that would defeat the purpose.
Michael was thirty-three now, which put him...well, a decent amount of years ahead of Caspian, not that he was counting, because that didn't matter. What did matter was Michael feeling both loved and cared for on his birthday by his husband, and Caspian was extremely determined to make this happen.
He left a card on their bedside table for Michael to see when he woke up, and all it said, when opened, was:
Kitchen.
And then a heart underneath, in Caspian's usual messy handwriting.
Guine
