“Try not to worry, sweetie. I know he’s trying to come home to you just as soon as he can.”
Jimmy tried not to, he really did. As the hours ticked by, it was impossible not to. By the time midnight rolled around, Jerry had already retired for the evening, and Jimmy miserably trudged up to his room.
He was still wearing the new suit Cold had bought him and dug into the liquor cabinet to drown his woes. He knew Cold would have never missed his birthday unless something truly horrible had happened, and that knowledge only made him worry more.
It was raining outside now, thunder rumbling as lightning flashed through the windows. He ignored the need for a glass, drinking straight from a bottle of very expensive scotch.
“Happy birthday to me,” he sadly sang to himself, off key and slurred.
Only the most traumatic and terrible scenarios were invading his mind, and he prayed quietly that his love would come home soon. He lost track of how much he’d had to drink and was dangerously close to passing out when he heard the familiar click of the bedroom door.
It was three o’clock in the morning, and he hiccupped as he sat up to greet Cold. He wanted to yell, scream, but the moment he saw him all he could think to do was rush into his arms.
“Jimmy,” Cold said, embracing him tight and kissing his hair.
“I was so worried!” Jimmy cried.
“I’m sorry—”
“You’re soaking wet!” Jimmy gasped, recoiling for a moment. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Things got out of hand,” Cold went on, cradling Jimmy’s face and kissing him firmly. He held him close, sighing in frustration. “I never meant to upset you or betray your trust. I said I was going to be here and—”
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Jimmy soothed, nuzzling against his damp cheek. “I was freaking the f-f-fuck out. I kept thinking the fucking worst!”
Cold paused, a small smile curling his lips as he asked, “Jimmy, are you drunk?”
“No! I mean. Yes, a little bit,” Jimmy said sourly. “I was fucking worried! I thought maybe you had been whacked or something!”
“I’m sorry,” Cold repeated, words they both knew he did not say often or so sincerely. “Tell me what I can do to make this up to you. Anything you’d like.”
“Anything?” Jimmy chirped.
“Yes,” Cold confirmed. He rolled his eyes and added, “Within reason. You’ve been rather creative as of late—”
“Strip for me,” Jimmy said immediately, grinning sheepishly at his bold request.
“Pardon?”
“Strip for me?” Jimmy repeated, hesitating now when he saw how Cold grimaced hearing the request again.
“That’s really what you want?”
“Yes,” Jimmy said, tittering nervously. Knowing how Cold felt about his body, it was not lost on him that this request might actually offend him. He wanted to take it back, but Cold was already speaking before he could.
“Then that’s what you shall have,” Cold said solemnly, pressing a kiss to Jimmy’s forehead. “Go sit on the bed.”
“Right now?” Jimmy squeaked, his stomach flipping excitedly.
“Right now,” Cold confirmed.
“Are you sure?”
“You’re the birthday boy, aren’t you?” Cold said, a gorgeous smile now gracing his handsome face. “I wasn’t able to give you the night I had planned, but I can at least grant this one wish.”
Jimmy stumbled back to the bed before Cold could possibly change his mind. He snatched up the abandoned bottle of booze and sucked on it earnestly.
He half expected Cold to put on music for this, but soon found he didn’t need it.
