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“Careful with daddy’s present,” Ray says softly, followed by the quiet clatter of plates and glasses. Mikey smiles deeply in to his pillow.
“Yeah!” Luke agrees with excitement, and Ray chuckles and shushes him.
“We want to surprise daddy, don’t we? So we have to be very quiet.”
“Okay,” Luke whispers…well, as close to a whisper as a hyperactive two year old can get.
As the door starts to creek slowly open, Mikey quickly turns his head the other way and softens his breathing, faking sleep. At the sound of two sets of bare feet softly padding across the carpet he has to bite his lip to keep himself from smiling. Plates and things slide across the large wooden breakfast tray they bought for mornings just like these, and whatever Luke is carrying rustles and bumps against the bed as he clambers up on to it.
“Careful,” Ray warns as he does so.
“Can we surprise now?” Luke asks and Mikey can feel the weight of his small knees pressing next to his shoulder. Ray must nod because Luke makes an excited little squeal and bounces.
There’s a few seconds pause, and Ray must have been counting them in because the next thing Mikey hears is a chorus of, “SURPRISE!”
He turns quickly, unable to hold back the grin at the sight of his husband carrying breakfast in bed and son with an armful of gifts.
“Happy birthday!” Luke shrieks before dive bombing his father right in the stomach. Mikey gasps, spluttering as he grabs at Luke’s flailing limbs. He pulls him in to a hug and presses a kiss to one of Luke’s chubby cheeks.
“Thank you, my skywalker,” he smiles, pulling himself upright as Luke still hangs on to him. “Is this for me?” he asks, pointing to the sparkly bag covered in precisely five million stick on bows and ribbons.
Luke holds out the bag with a firm nod. “For daddy.”
Peering inside the bag, Mikey’s heart instantly swells as he recognises the three blue hand prints splattered carelessly across the paper, Ray’s on the left, his own the right and Luke’s in the middle. Now the paint is dry with an added Happy Birthday, Daddy carefully stencilled above (obviously Gerard’s handy work) and the whole thing framed.
Pulling out the picture, Mikey swallows down the lump in his throat to smile. He pulls Luke in for a kiss. “Thank you, little man. I love it.”
Luke grins. “You’re welcome!” he shouts and Mikey smiles again, pulling him in for another kiss, just because.
Ray sets the tray at the foot of the bed before he slides in next to Mikey, who turns to accept the good morning kiss. “Happy birthday, baby,” he says and Mikey kisses him again.
“You are incredible,” Mikey says.
“As true as that is, this was all Luke’s idea,” Ray points out, nodding towards their son who’s already advancing on the tray full of food.
Mikey laughs as Luke carefully shuffles back up the bed carrying a small plate of toast and peanut butter. “Well then you are incredible too, my skywalker,” he says, tapping Luke affectionately on the nose. It wriggles beneath Mikey’s fingertip as Luke giggles.
“Want some toast?” he says, holding the plate out.
Taking the plate, Mikey hands it to Ray before grabbing Luke and pulling him on to his lap for a tight hug and more kisses, much to Luke’s squealing delight.
When Luke’s half way through breakfast and Mikey’s yet to get his hands on anything more than a scrap of toast, Ray nuzzles his nose against the shell of Mikey’s ear and kisses his jaw.
Mikey sighs and smiles. Birthdays in bed rock.
