Three candles cast softly flickering shadows across the set dinner table: the light reflected in the elegant porcelain plates, designer glassware and jars and bottles of condiments that flanked a small vase with three painstakingly placed roses. He'd done his best to make it all flawless, but not expensive – not more than anything surrounding him already was.

He grinned and presented the table to Tristan with both hands, like he was showing off a masterpiece. A short laugh escaped Tristan, which eased into a gentle and wholeheartedly appreciative smile.

"It looks wonderful." The words made his heart flutter a little, and took away some of the fears that he'd not done it right. He smiled too, but that wasn't enough. So he threw his arms around his waist and hugged him tightly.

Tristan barely managed to lift the bag out of the way, and he felt the paper against his back when the hug was returned. A hand softly ran through his hair and brushed it out of his face.

"Hey Love."

The gentle voice prompted a deep breath. His entire body raised with it, as for just a moment he was filled with bliss. Only for every worry and bad thought to spill out of him with a heavy sigh. And then he was left with a soothing sense of satisfaction.

"I have a gift for you, but you're going to have to let go."

At the mere mention he let go and took a step back, unable to withhold from a few giddy bounces. A grin swept over his face, excited to see what it was he got.

"I'm not so good at it yet, so I might do it wrong."

He shook his head: whatever it was, it would be perfect anyway.

Tristan put the paper bag on the table, and then turned to face him. For a moment he had to gather the courage, and he patiently waited. Tristan raised his hands, managed to stumble over them, and then let out a nervous chuckle. So with a few gestures he spurred him on, telling him to try – that was all he needed.

'Are you,-'

Tristan began, pointing at him only to nervously swallow and stop. He nodded and excitedly gestured at himself to get him to continue.

'Are you – happy?'

A grin spread on his face, and he answered with a vigorous nod. He was already happy. The knowledge that Tristan was so committed as to start learning sign language made him more than happy. It made him smile, and warm on the inside. A strange sensation washed over him: of relief, and deep appreciation, and so much more love than he could ever contain.

He stepped up and kissed him. Slow. Strong. Both his thumbs ran along Tristan's cheeks, unable to say how happy this made him, but plenty able to communicate it with soft caresses.

Tristan's hand reached in for his jaw and cheek, stroking him with equal care. He sighed and leant in further. His head felt empty, and his heart fuller than ever. One day surely it would spill over.

"I love you so much." The words were softly whispered against his lips. It prompted him to open his eyes, only to find deep black pools crested with silver and flickering orange. He smiled and gave him another kiss as his answer. Tristan accepted, but only for a moment.

"We should eat soon, otherwise it gets cold."

In defiance, he gave Tristan's lower lip a small bite. He'd rather nibble on him all night.

Much to his surprise, Tristan held his hair, and gave the tip of his nose a little nip. He protested with a noise and a puff of his cheek.

"Not so fun when you're the one getting eaten, hmm?" Tristan taunted with a smile.

He puffed up his cheeks even further, and then jumped into his arms. Immediately he planted several bite-like kisses on Tristan's neck, chomping on him like a hungry animal.

"Hey, wait..." the former chuckled softly, whilst holding on to him tighter. It wasn't very convincing. So he leant in and deepened his kisses, until the sputtering protests faded altogether.

Hibiki frowned as Tristan put their hamburgers and fries in the microwave to heat them up again.

"And whose fault is that, hmm?" Tristan said with a smile. For a moment he crossed his arms, only to fall forward against their shoulder and let out a displeased huff. With two fingers he poked the other shoulder and then drew a heart on it.

"Oh, it's my fault you love me, I see." There was joy hidden underneath the sarcasm. He huffed and nodded. It was his fault for being so lovable. How was he supposed not to give in?

"Well, I'll make sure to apologise tonight." Two fingers brushed his hair behind his ear, to make sure the whisper found him. It made his heart pound, until all he could feel was it jumping up against his chest in excitement.

"But let's have dinner first." Tristan continued more matter of factly, right as the microwave beeped. He grinned and dove in to grab the plate.

As careful as he could he set their food right down right in the middle of the table. He grabbed one of the burgers, saw it was Tristan's and set it down on the plate with a small pat. His own didn't get the same gentle treatment: he unceremoniously plopped it down and then grabbed a few fries.

A grin was plastered on his face as he gestured for Tristan to sit. The moment he did, he poured the remaining fries on their plate.

"I see you're taking good care of me." Tristan jested. He nodded unabashedly, fully committed to that idea: there was nothing he'd rather do. Not when he knew that care had lacked so severely in his life.

The enthusiasm faded for a moment, and instead he took a deep breath to show that he was absolutely serious. He leant in over their dinner, to run his thumb across their cheekbone: along where he knew the scar was, even when it was hardly visible in the low light. Tristan closed his eyes for a moment. So he continued to caress him until whatever was on his mind would fade.

"I never really thought I needed it." Tristan said softly, his eyes still shut. "That I was better off by myself, just studying and working so I'd never need anyone. Needing someone is a flaw: because whenever I rely on someone, they always fail me. I don't want Anya to need me, so I don't have to be afraid that I abandon her and hurt her – that I drag her down with me. But with you, it seems so obvious. Of course I'd need you, I can't take on the whole world by myself. I'm just terrified you end up leaving me too, and that the more I tangle myself up in you, the more of me you'll tear away when you go."

He continued to slowly caress his cheek, shaking his head in response even when Tristan couldn't see. Although the words stopped, he didn't, to let him know he wouldn't leave. Never.

With his other hand he took Tristan's, firmly entangling their fingers. Tristan gripped back tight.

"Promise?" The words were accompanied with a trepidatious glance up, as if afraid to see something bad. Instead he smiled and nodded with all his heart.

"How can you be so sure..."

He brushed the doubts away with a shrug. There was no reason, and no deeper understanding that laid below it, because his love ran the deepest it could. His heart beat faster when he was around, and he couldn't help but smile when they were together: their beings fit together like two puzzle pieces. It didn't matter how they were made, or if they'd change. It didn't matter if the world wanted them to fit elsewhere. This was where he belonged.

So he slowly blinked, and took a deep breath before looking at the man in front of him. He couldn't say the words, but he knew Tristan would understand regardless when he ran his hand down to his chest and gave it a firm pat.

'I love you'

In his own way, he knew that Tristan's fear was because he loved him too. It just seemed that whereas he was hellbent on keeping it close forever, he was terrified of losing something so dear to him. Perhaps what they both needed was patience – but he had so little of it.

"I do too... maybe I shouldn't think about it so much. That just makes it more complicated." Tristan chuckled inwardly, not with joy, but with recognition of himself.

He smiled in return and gave the hand he held a small pat, to say that he was probably right. Nevertheless, the overthinking was endearing in some ways.

"Let's get to dinner, before we have to heat it up again."

Immediately he puffed up his cheeks and huffed. Microwaving it once was bad enough. He let go and took a big bite out of his hamburger, pleased to find it was still hot.

Once they both had their fill of fast food, Hibiki glanced over towards the dark shape of the cake that was now resting on a plate. Somehow it loomed over him, as if a mistake was leering at him from behind. He wasn't sure if he should show it, but he had no other gift prepared.

With a small tap on the back of Tristan's hand, he stood up. Although he gestured for him to come along, it was not as enthusiastic as he usually was. Instead he cautiously approached the cake.

"Did you bake a cake?" Tristan asked with a smile. "I thought I smelled it when we got here."

He nodded, and leant in towards the light switch. A few spots built into the kitchen cabinets flashed on, and illuminated the countertops.

The cake laid on a square plate, and the white colour highlighted the dark colour along the edges and outside. A bit upset by the reminder, Hibiki grabbed his waist and puffed his cheeks up slightly, avoiding any and all eye contact with the monstrosity he created.

"It's not that bad, you just overcooked it a little." Tristan said, so tuned in to his responses that he didn't even need to look at him anymore. Perhaps he could tell from the speed of his movements, or the manner in which he was breathing.

With a soft sigh he acquiesced, even if it still made him sad that he hadn't been able to make something better. Most of all he kept wondering if he had started sooner, he could have tried again.

"Hey," Tristan wrapped an arm around his shoulder and held him close. "You tried."

He nodded, even if he felt like he didn't try hard enough. Once more the thought that he wasn't good enough shot through his head, only for hurt to sink down into his chest. So he buried his head into Tristan's shoulder, and tried to convey the feeling by placing a hand on their heart and mimicking pulling it down.

"Of course not silly. If anything, you being bad at cooking makes me more useful. You're already smart, and incredibly handsome, so where would I fit in if it weren't for cooking?"

Immediately he puffed up his cheeks and shook his head, since his love was at all about what he could do for him. Two hands underneath his chin pulled him up and made him look.

"Thank you for trying to take into account my fears. I don't care what you do for me, all that matters is that you thought of what I wanted. Even if I know sometimes it seems a little unreasonable." Tristan planted a firm kiss on his lips, which made him smile.

Despite that he still shook his head, drawing two words to elaborate.

'Not unreasonable'

"Not even a little?" Tristan said with a smile. He shook his head adamantly in return. "I am expecting a billionaire not to spend money on me."

Without hesitation he raised himself up on the tips of his toes and kissed him intently. He held on to Tristan's hands, to make doubly sure that he got the message that no amount of money mattered compared to love. And he did love him.

With a grin he pulled back, only to see Tristan smile too.

"I am curious though..." Tristan reached in for the cake, and tore a little bit off of the corner with his fingers. The inside of the cake was a bright golden yellow. Tristan took a bite out of the piece, chewing curiously.

"It's not that bad. It tastes nice." He held out the remaining piece for him to try. Cautiously he ate it. It was sweet, and the corner was crunchy, but there was a dampness to it that he wasn't proud of. Still, Tristan was right. It wasn't that bad.

"How about you go pick a film, then I will get us both slices." Tristan said with a smile. He grinned, planted a kiss on his cheek and then darted off to pick a movie.