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Dennis hadn’t meant to snoop. He was over at Jack’s house while the older man was on shift. He wasn’t officially moved in with Jack, but he spent more time than not at Jack’s place. Dennis had been digging through boxes in the garage looking for an old photo album Jack had shown him once. He was trying to find a funny photo from Jack’s med school days that he’d promised to show Trinity when he stumbled across a worn-down binder. There was a faded and sun yellowed piece of paper in the cover sleeve that simply read, “Recipes.”
Curiosity got the best of him, and he began flipping through the pages inside. There were cut outs of recipes from magazines, handwritten ones on index cards, some typed up and printed. Many of them had notes scribbled in the margins, corrections or alterations or reminders of what to do next time, all in handwriting he didn’t quite recognize.
One recipe in particular caught his eye, one for a chocolate Guinness cake. There was a note under the title that read, “Jack’s favorite.” Dennis’ finger traced gently below the text as he reached for his phone, snapping a photo of the recipe before closing the binder.
--
They had been together for just shy of eight months when Jack’s birthday rolled around. He’d insisted up and down he didn’t want anything big (“Nothing extravagant, Den, I’ll go crazy.”). Dennis had been a bit disappointed if he was honest with himself, he wanted to be the one to do the spoiling for once. But his boyfriend was a stubborn man, he’d barely agreed to Dennis’ insistence that they make dinner reservations.
And if Dennis had a special surprise up his sleeve to close out the night, well that was between him and a particular innocuous photo in his camera roll.
--
Jack had a shift the night before his birthday, much to Dennis’ dismay. He’d still asked Dennis to stay the night (“So I can come home to the best gift.”) and had assured Dennis that their day and night off together on his actual birthday would be more than enough.
So here Dennis was, in Jack’s empty house, alone for the night. He figured he might as well make the most of it. He drove himself to the grocery store after Jack left for work, pulling up the recipe photo he’d snagged the week prior to use as a shopping list.
Dennis stayed up far too late baking, determined to get the recipe correct, down to every little note that had been left in the margins. Decorating the cake as best he could he managed a messily piped “Jack” scrawled across the top. He managed to find a cake plate with a cover in the cabinet above the fridge they never opened, eventually stowing the cake in the fridge until tomorrow.
--
When Jack arrived home from his shift, he was met with the delicious smell of breakfast foods wafting from the kitchen.
“Hey, Den,” Jack said as he came up behind Dennis and wrapped his arms around the younger man’s waist. He kissed the base of Dennis’ neck, “Missed you.”
“Missed you, too,” Dennis said, turning slightly to look at Jack, “And happy birthday.”
“I told you I didn’t want anything big.”
“And I told you I wanted to spoil you. The least you can do is let me feed you,” Dennis quipped back. “Go get cleaned up. Then food, then cuddles.”
Jack hummed in agreement as he unlatched from his boyfriend’s body.
They ate together after Jack’s shower, then retreated to the bedroom.
“Just stay until I fall asleep,” Jack mumbled as he pulled Dennis close to him, eyes already drooping with sleep.
“Whatever the birthday boy wants,” Dennis replied, leaning up to kiss Jack before settling in for some cuddles.
--
Later that evening, the two men were getting ready for the dinner reservations Dennis had insisted on.
“Can’t believe I’m letting you pay for me,” Jack said as Dennis tied his tie for him.
“You pay for literally everything all the time, let me buy one dinner for you without complaining,” Dennis said, shooting him a glare. “Chin up,” he said as he made the final adjustments to Jack’s tie. “Perfect! C’mon let’s head out,” Dennis said, grabbing Jack’s hand and heading for the door.
Jack smiled as he followed his boyfriend out of the house, maybe he could bear to be spoiled just this once.
--
When they arrived home, Jack began heading towards the bedroom almost immediately.
“Jack, wait, I have one more thing for you,” Dennis said, grabbing Jack’s hand to stop him.
“Den, seriously, you’ve spoiled me enough today,” Jack said, but he couldn’t hide the fondness in his voice.
“I made you breakfast and took you to dinner, Jack,” Dennis deadpanned, “because someone wouldn’t let me do anything more than that. One last surprise, then we’re done, I promise.”
Jack sighed, Dennis was so excited to get to celebrate Jack’s birthday, it almost made Jack think he could start looking forward to them again. He let Dennis drag him into the dining room and tell him to sit down at the table.
“Wait here and close your eyes,” Dennis said.
“Den, you can’t be serious,” Jack said.
Dennis pouted at him, “Yes, I am. Amuse me, Jack.”
“Okay,” he sighed as he closed his eyes, trying not to remember the last time someone had asked him to do this.
Dennis went to the kitchen and grabbed the cake out of the fridge. He took the cover off, dug out the candles he’d stashed in the junk draw, placed a few on top of the cake, and lit them.
He walked into the dining room and placed the cake in front of Jack, “Okay, you can open your eyes.”
Jack’s eyes opened and he could’ve sworn time screeched to a halt the second his gaze landed on the cake in front of him. Or maybe a halt wasn’t quite right. No, more like he was hurtling backwards in time, and he couldn’t figure out how to stop it.
That first birthday after they’d gotten married. Young college kids in a shitty studio apartment. Enjoying their time together before he was deployed. Katherine had spent all afternoon baking him a cake, chocolate and Guinness and so very Jack. She’d still made him close his eyes as she carried it out to him. Had insisted on singing the happy birthday song even though it was just the two of them (she liked seeing him blush a little). They had eaten the cake together, Katherine insisting that Jack be the one to take the first bite. It had been a quiet night together. One of love and laughter.
Then he was at the birthday after he came back from Kabul, leg barely healed, still adjusting to civilian life. She’d made the same cake she had that first year. “I remember you liking it, I hope your tastes haven’t changed too much.” He’d loved it just the same, if not more. Just like his love for her, he thought briefly. Love only ever grew when it came to Katherine.
Then the birthday the year he landed the attending position at PTMC. “Big accomplishments this year, honey.” She’d been tweaking the recipe every year, making it just that much more perfect. Started decorating the cakes, always a little messy, but always incredibly earnest.
And then the birthday the year she got sick. It had been such a beautiful day. She’d dragged him out of the house, “Just to see the nature,” she’d said, he never got enough fresh air for her liking. They’d had dinner at their favorite restaurant, and she’d ended the night like she ended all his birthdays, a cake brought in to closed eyes and a happy birthday song sung with love. They would find out a month later.
“Jack? Jack, honey, are you okay?”
Honey. Only one person had ever called him that before. But no, that couldn’t- she wasn’t- and then he felt a hand on his shoulder. Real, and physical, and present.
“Jack, you’re scaring me,” and somewhere through the fog Jack recognized this voice. Not hers, of course it wasn’t hers.
“Dennis,” Jack said, his voice raw and gruff.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s me, I’m here,” Dennis soothed, hand still on Jack’s shoulder, unmoving, worried what might happen if they change positions.
Jack looked up at Dennis, he could feel the sting in his eyes, fuck he probably looked a wreck. He turned back to the cake, candles melted down, no longer lit. Jack thought briefly about how Dennis must’ve had to blow them out for him. He turned back to Dennis, again, “How- how long was I…” he trailed off, hoping Dennis would understand.
“Maybe five minutes? A little longer? No more than ten, though,” Dennis answered, trying his best to keep his tone neutral. He moved to sit down, taking Jack’s hands in his. “What… what happened? I know you said nothing big for your birthday, but I thought a cake would be-”
“Where’d you get the recipe?” Jack cut him off, his voice rough and trembling. He hadn’t even tasted it yet, but Jack would recognize this cake anywhere. Any day. Any year.
Dennis’ eyes went wide, that wasn’t exactly the direction he was expecting to go, “I, um, I was looking for one of your photo albums the other night and I found a binder. The note, there was a note on it, it said it was your favorite. I thought- I figured- I just wanted to surprise you.”
Jack didn’t say anything for a moment, eyes drifting away from Dennis’ and back onto the cake. Dennis watched the curve of Jack’s throat as he swallowed and finally spoke up again, “It’s been almost ten years. How did- you couldn’t have known.”
“Jack?” Dennis’ voice was becoming worried again.
“You called me ‘honey.’ You’ve never done that before,” Jack said, eyes coming back to meet Dennis’ gaze.
“I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to,” Dennis rushed to assure.
“‘s not that…” Jack started, trailing off.
“Jack, I- I want to help,” Dennis said, squeezing Jack’s hands again. “I want you to be okay.”
“‘M okay, Den,” Jack said, “I promise. It’s just… Do you know who wrote that note? On the recipe?”
“I figured it was your wife,” Dennis responded quietly.
Jack smiled, raw and sad, “Yeah, yeah, it was. God, I can’t believe you dug up Katherine’s old recipe book.” He was laughing a little, something aching and open and almost pained.
“Is it… Was that okay?” Dennis asked cautiously.
“Not mad at you, Den, not at all,” Jack answered. Dennis didn't miss the deflection, how Jack wasn't answering the questions Dennis asked. Not exactly, at least.
“Can you tell me what’s going on? I don’t want you upset on your birthday,” Dennis said, a small encouraging smile on his face.
“She used to make me this cake,” Jack said. “Every year, on my birthday. And she would tell me to close my eyes and-” Jack’s voice caught in his throat as tears began to well in his eyes.
“Oh my God, Jack, I had no idea,” Dennis said, eyes wide in horror.
“I’m not mad, Dennis, I told you. You had no way of knowing. It was- It was sweet. I appreciate everything, I just-” Jack took in a breath, exhaling shakily.
“You don't- Just because you're not mad doesn't mean you can't be upset. Or… confused,” Dennis said. “Talk to me, Jack. I want to understand. I want to be help.”
Jack inhaled sharply, exhaled slowly, squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them, his gaze was softer, but something about it seemed worn down, like he wasn't all the way there. He wasn't looking quite at Dennis; eyes fixed just past his shoulder. “Our traditions weren't anything special, but they were ours. She’d bake a cake for me, carry it in while my eyes were closed, even though I always knew what was coming. She'd sing happy birthday to me and then we'd eat cake together. It was what we did every year, the ones before I was deployed and the ones after I came back,” Jack explained. “It just, it brought me back, is all. Haven't- I haven't done this…”
“Jack…” Dennis’ eyes softened with recognition. “No one's ever- You haven't celebrated?”
“I'm old, Den, the birthdays sort of just started passing me by. I'd go out for drinks sometimes, if Mike was off too, but I never... I didn't see the point,” Jack shrugged.
It broke Dennis’ heart a little bit, how much joy Jack had let grief suck from his life. “I think she'd want you to celebrate, Jack,” Dennis said softly.
Jack’s eyes flicked back to Dennis’. They were watery again. “Den…”
“I don't want to overstep, and I won't do it again next year if you don't want me to. But… I like doing this kind of stuff, and I don't like thinking about how few happy memories you've made since she passed.” Dennis paused when he heard Jack’s breath hitch, but when nothing followed, he decided to continue. “Let me make memories with you, Jack? Please?”
“You want a next year,” Jack finally breathed out, his voice betraying his disbelief.
Dennis was taken aback, “I- Yes? Yes, of course I do, Jack. This isn't- I'm serious about you.”
Jack extricated his hands from Dennis’ hold so he could grab the younger man’s face and pull him into a kiss. When he pulled back, Jack rested his forehead against Dennis’, “I love you,” he breathed out, barely more than a whisper.
“I love you too, Jack,” Dennis said with a smile, hands coming up to hold Jack’s wrists. Dennis let Jack sit in the closeness for a few minutes before speaking again, “You didn't answer my question, Jack,” he said quietly.
Jack pulled back, a shy smile on his lips now, “Yeah, next year. Happy memories. I can,” he paused to breathe deeply, “I can do that.”
“Thank you,” Dennis said, and then it was his turn to pull Jack into a kiss. “Now, why don't we eat some of this cake?”