A/N: I hinted at this chaptersssssss ago... *wink*

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It's a night filled with music and laughter, with old-time friends catching up between sips of wine. As the evening deepens, Evan strums his acoustic guitar in the bedroom, lulling the little ones into naps, while the adults enjoy the last of their conversations.

By 9 PM, the crowd thins. Julian and Joaquin see the guests off at the door, exchanging hugs and murmuring goodnights. When the last farewell is said, Joaquin exhales and flops onto the sofa, loosening his tie with a content smile.

He stretches his legs, speaking out loud. "It's been a long time since I've celebrated like this. Ever since Alex quit partying, things have felt different. Quieter. But at least this time, I won't wake up with a bad headache—" He stops rambling, realizing something.

Julian isn't there.

"Julian—?"

"Happy birthday to youuuu..."

The voice startles Joaquin, his head whipping around. Julian is walking toward him, carrying a white round cake, candles shaped like  '29' flickering atop.

"You're kidding me."

Julian continues to sing, unabashed, the flights casting a soft glow on his features.

"...happy birthday to you!" He nudges the cake closer to Joaquin's face. "Come on birthday boy, make a wish."

"I wish—"

"Ah-ah! You know the rules! No saying it out loud," Julian scolds, grinning.

Joaquin snickers. It's not like his wish is anything grand. He has Julian, the people just in the apartment, and a strong relationship with his dad, even from afar.

He has everything he can ask for.

Joaquin shuts his eyes and takes a slow breath. If he could wish for anything, it would be this—to keep things as they are.

He blows out the candles, the smoke evaporating into the air. Julian places the cake on the coffee table before giving Joaquin a celebratory kiss on the lips. "Happy, happy birthday!"

Joaquin tugs at his arm, and he stumbles onto his lap. Laughing, Joaquin wraps his arms around Julian's waist, resting his face against his shoulder. "Thank you. For this. For everything else."

Pink dusts Julian's cheeks. "You are always welcome." He shifts, standing up with a tinge of mischief in his eyes. "We've got a bottle of wine left. Wanna make a night of it?"

"Sure."

Wine glasses clinking, Julian and Joaquin take a comfortable sip of Merlot.

"That's pretty good. As expected from Tito Randy..." Julian says, swirling his glass. "Bet this is from one of his 'special' stash."

Joaquin nods in agreement. "Yeah, that's actually pretty good."

"Mind pouring me a little more?"

Halfway through the bottle, Joaquin calls it quits. "I'm tapping out," he tells Julian, then heads off for a shower.

In the bathroom, with hair dripping and a toothbrush in his mouth, his gaze wanders over the toiletries lined up on Julian's sink. His razor. Julian's cologne. Basically, his and Julian's are mixed. Like at his place.

It's funny. They have two sets of toiletries, two sets of utensils. They pay for two apartments but only live in one at a time. Moving in together would make the most sense. But... would Julian want that? He might still like having his own place, especially with his art works.

Joaquin spits, rinses, and departs the bathroom, shaking the thought away. "Go ahead," he says, tipping his head toward the shower.

Julian pushes himself off the sofa, nodding. His face is flushed.

Joaquin frowns. "Did you finish the whole bottle?"

"Yep," he replies proudly, staggering as he makes his way to Joaquin, abandoning the glasses on the table.

"Do you need help?"

"Nope."

"Julian, are you sure?"

"Yep." He pauses, blinking at the floor as if it moves underneath him. "Wait..."

Then, Julian walks past him, keeping the door ajar. Whether on purpose or not, it benefits Joaquin, his senses on alert.

Only when he hears Julian humming under the stream of water does he move on, cleaning up the wine glasses and all the remaining clutter from the party.

After tidying up, he enters the bedroom and finds Julian crouched on the rug, staring at one of his pieces.

Joaquin steps beside him, observing the male portrait. "Hey, what're you doing?"

"Checking this one... I'll sell this in my next exhibit..." Julian straightens up, wobbling and grabbing onto Joaquin's arm. "Oops... Thanks."

He meets Joaquin's gaze, silent and unreadable.

Joaquin cocks an eyebrow. "Why are you staring?"

Instead of answering, Julian drags a forefinger from the bridge of Joaquin's nose to its tip, down to his Adam's apple, along his collarbone, and then stops at his pectoral muscles. Joaquin flinches at the touch but stays rooted in place.

"I told you I'd draw you, didn't I?"

Joaquin huffs an amused chuckle. "Yes, you might've mentioned that..."

"Feel like modeling for me now?"

Joaquin regards Julian thoughtfully, noting how his pupils are dilated, his cheeks heavily stained with red. He's had one too many.

"Now? Are you sure you can draw in that state?"

Julian rolls his eyes, jabbing a playful finger into Joaquin's shoulder. "Just do as I say."

"Okay, okay. What do you need from me—?"

Without a second thought, Julian shoves Joaquin onto the bed, and he lands on the mattress with a surprised laugh.

"Rough. I like it," Joaquin teases. "What's the plan? Are you just going to draw my face? How should I pose?"

Julian switches on the floor lamp and the nightstand lamp, turning off the bright overhead light.

"Is this enough light for you?" Joaquin questions.

"Ssh. Stay there and keep quiet." Julian forces his eyelids open as he combs through his closet for his art materials.

He emerges with a sketchpad, pencil, and sharpener, dragging the desk chair with a loud creak across the floor.

Joaquin scratches his temple. "I know you said to be quiet but I'd like some direction here..."

"Just sit however you like."

"Uh, okay? Like this?" He bends his right leg into a triangle shape, while his left leg dangles and swings off the edge of the bed. He clasps his fingers together and clears his throat. "How's this?"

Julian crosses his legs, resting the sketchboard on his thigh. "Yes... That works."

Joaquin strives to stay unmoving, but it proves to be quite the challenge. The seriousness of Julian's expression is something he's not used to, and when Julian's almost authoritative gaze flickers at him, he feels his heart hammering against his chest.

"So, uh, how long—"

"Joaquin," Julian interjects sternly. "Take your shirt off."

His throat tightens, and he swallows. Hard. "W-What? Are you sure about that?"

"I am," Julian replies, standing up and peeling his shirt off. "Fair's fair, right?"

Entranced, Joaquin manages a weak nod. Without tearing his gaze away from Julian's bare skin, he wordlessly goes along with his request.

This is driving him wild.

Julian scoots his chair closer to the bed, eager to capture the shape of Joaquin's neck and the sharp angles of his jawline. With broad shoulders and a firm abdomen, Joaquin is a striking subject. Julian can't resist wetting his lips as he proceeds with his sketch effortlessly.

Frankly, he could draw Joaquin from memory, but nothing beats the real flesh.

As Julian reaches over, he grazes Joaquin's skin with the eraser tip of his pencil, tracing the muscles beneath. He delights in the way Joaquin shudders, regardless of his attempts to repress it.

"Goddamnit," Joaquin groans. "You're doing this on purpose."

In Julian's defense, he did say (in his mind!) that Joaquin would be so dead...

"Doing what?"

"Don't play dumb."

Joaquin snatches the pencil first, yanking Julian over so he's sitting on the bed beside him. Then, he grabs the pad, giving the unfinished sketch a once-over with a raised eyebrow. "Wow. You did this in half an hour? Not even sober?"

"I'm... I'm not done yet," Julian protests, though his voice lacks conviction as he tries his best not to kiss Joaquin senseless.

He's burning with the desire to jump him. Wants to touch him all over. But then again, he still has a bit of vengeance left in him.

"Oh, yeah?" Joaquin steals his sharpener last, tossing all the materials aside onto the nightstand. "If you really want to get it right, why not feel me up? You'll get a more accurate picture." With that, he grabs Julian's hand, guiding it to his cheek.

Julian's heart hiccups as Joaquin presses a tender kiss on his wrist, then trails soft kisses to his neck and across his shoulder blades.

He's supposed to be the one getting the payback here...

"I'm nervous," Joaquin admits meekly. "Can you hear it?"

"Yeah... this isn't our first time, though?"

Joaquin's eyes darken as his voice drops, adopting a sultry tone. "It is going to be..."

No need to ask twice; Julian understands perfectly. He motions forward, hungry for another kiss—a much deeper one on the lips, sloppy and electrifying.

He's been preparing for this moment. Getting himself ready. It's been ages since he felt this way it might as well be his first time all over again.

Maintaining his grip on Julian's hand, he places it on his bulge and withdraws, his mouth finding its way to his ear. "This is far more accurate, isn't it? I want you this much."

A prickling sensation creeps along Julian's back. He's getting even more drunk at the sight of Joaquin; he can only hope he's ready enough to take him.