Tom loved his birthday.
He loved spending time in his house, some green tea, a good movie (not one of his own of course) and cuddling.
Cuddling with who? Why his dear Hemsy.
Every year on their birthdays the one would go to the others house and spend the night cuddling, laughing and, of course, making out.
Tom's birthday was more fun since Chris would always find something new about the house.
A door under the stairs, a box of cheez-its a month past its expiration date, always something.
Tom knew Chris' house like it was his own, even though he had been only a few times. He even found things Chris himself didn't know about.
Chris had just landed at the british airport. Tom was waiting for him like every other time Chris came over.
They found each other, exchanged hugs and kisses, and hurried off to the car before anyone could recognize them.
Chris loaded his things in the trunk as Tom turned the engine on. He had insisted on driving, no matter what Chris said. Tom knew Chris would somehow get lost.
They chatted during the drive.
"So, Tom,
