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It had been perfectly planned, but still needed to be perfectly timed. Not that Dorian ever snuck around, but this was one of those moments where he needed to be a bit more sly than usual. It had started with a gift card to a family owned yarn shop in the area, which had made Cullen’s eyes light up as he clutched it in his hands and leaned in for a hug that nearly crushed Dorian’s ribs. Truthfully, Dorian had never known a man so easy to buy for: knitting supplies, pretty yarn, gift cards, the occasional big and comfy sweater. It was nice. There wasn’t a lot of need for guessing.
That had been Phase One, though. The gift was only a means to get Cullen out of the house for a bit, for long enough to get things ready in their shared little apartment in Denerim. Cullen had been living there more or less full time now for about six months, and while they still struggled a bit with meshing their lives together here and there…it had been great. No more plane trips down to Gwaren, no more having to decide which house they wanted to stay in for vacations, and they were close all the time. That, despite some hiccups, was the best thing about this. Just getting to live with the man he loved, really, was phase one of whatever plans they had.
This particular plan, though, involved about two hours of time. Dorian had sent Cullen off to hunt for whatever treasures he wanted, and spent the first half of the afternoon getting the house clean to Rutherford standards (which he admittedly failed on more than he liked to admit, but not this time) then set to filling the kitchen with the smells of eggs, bacon, waffles, toast, coffee, and freshly squeezed orange juice.
Breakfast had always been their favorite, after all.
He’d just finished the spread when the door opened, and Cullen stepped in holding two bags that were stuffed full of what Dorian could only imagine was the softest yarn he’d ever felt. Cullen had made him a few scarves, some gloves, and a rather nice lap blanket for the couch out of the most beautiful teal and grey, and Dorian loved each piece more and more. There were times when he couldn’t have Cullen’s arms around him, so those were often at least a decent replacement.
“Maker, something smells amazing,” Cullen sighed as he made his way to the kitchen, and golden eyes widened when he saw the plates and platters that covered the table. Dorian had gone all out, included their nicer dishes and had even put some candles out to set the mood. Maybe it was silly to do so for a breakfast for dinner situation, but it had felt right.That was Phase Two.
He smiled, moved over to take the bags from Cullen’s arms, and wrapped him the man up in his own. “Birthday dinner?” Dorian asked, then leaned up for a kiss.
“Dorian, I…you didn’t have to-”
“Yes I did,” Dorian chuckled, as he hugged Cullen in tight. As tight as he could. There would never be a day that he didn’t hug Cullen this tightly so long as Dorian lived. He deserved to feel safe and cared for and loved. All the time. That was Phase Three.
“And it’s breakfast?” Cullen asked.
“Of course it is,” Dorian replied as he planted another kiss to Cullen’s cheek, “what else would it be? Complete with a literal two pounds of crispy bacon.”
“Maker, I love you.”
Cullen crushed Dorian in just as tightly, and Dorian smiled as he felt the man nose into his hair. He loved that. He loved the way Cullen would breathe him in and hold him. In his own way he wanted to feel safe and loved, and Cullen did that with ease. There wasn’t anything better.
“Happy birthday, love.”