"Oh, this one's good." Pierre said sarcastically. His eyes were glued to the screen of his tablet as he scrolled through headlines about himself. "'5STAR frontman Pierre Lim allegedly drinks a glass of whale sperm a day to maintain his unnatural physique.'" He read the headline aloud to the other, his feet propped up in their lap where lounged lazily on his couch. "Can you believe that? I'm good for at least two glasses of that stuff." He joked. "I'm not sure if I should take the 'unnatural physique' comment as a compliment or a dig..."

"I told you, Allison is coming back from her work trip tonight." Tyson said as he rose from his lover's bed, finding his clothes scattered across the floor from the night before, pulling on his pants and his shirt. "I'm afraid our little fantasy has to come to an end." He stood there in the open bathroom door and looked back at them still tangled deliciously in the sheets. "How do you manage to look so damn good in the morning?"

If Logan were a raging hurricane, Pierce was the beacon in the eye of his storm. A safe haven of calm, quiet, warmth and serenity. Instantly, the noise in and around Logan quieted as soon as those warm hands settled on his skin, pulling his hands from his face, lips pressed together tenderly. Logan's grounded in that kiss, that space, a silent reminder to breathe. Frayed nerves mended when they lips met for a second kiss, and Logan was able to focus enough to return it. "I know." Logan sighed softly, tension leaving his broad shoulders. "It's just the first one we've celebrated since we've been together, and I wanted it to be perfect. But with everything going on at work and everything else I just got so distracted, and I know that's not an excuse but--" he caught himself doing it again and immediately sealed his lips, his body tugged closer to his boyfriend, and he wrapped flour dusted arms around Pierce's neck. The smack to his ass stung in just the right way. The erratic energy that had pulsed from Logan shifted into something sexier. He smirked. "Yes, sir." He stole another kiss from Pierce's lips, one with more heat and depth. "Just the apron was a good idea then?"

"I'm a lot of things, but a bird ain't one." Santana spoke the words with clear confidence and conviction; a power that came from being broken down by men in the past and finding the tools to build himself up after. "So if a dude ain't feeling me, I'd rather he just be a man and admit to that instead of stringing me along because my head game goes crazy." He looked at the other and tipped his glasses down the bridge of his nose. "So, what's it gonna be? You gonna keep playing games or are we gonna talk about what it is that we're doing?"

"No, no no!" Logan exclaimed, the last remnants of a British accent clung to the syllables of his words anytime he was worked up like this. He paced the kitchen, fingers pushing through his hair, flour dust covering the apron he wore and nearly every counter surface in the kitchen. "You weren't supposed to be home from work for another hour at least! I had this whole thing planned!" He spoke a mile a minute, the words tumbled from pink lips like a firehose on full blast. "As soon as I realized I'd forgotten that your birthday was today I felt like absolute shit about it so I rushed to the grocery store after work and picked up the supplies to bake you the perfect cake and I was going to have cake and candles and sing you Stevie Wonder's rendition of the Happy Birthday song wearing nothing but this stupid apron but then the cake started going to shit and apparently I don't know how to use a standing mixer and I forgot to buy eggs and one of the balloons popped and--" He stopped and took a breath, he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. "--I'm sorry I'm a shitty boyfriend. Why did I think me doing terrible Stevie Wonder karaoke with my ass out would fix that?"

The window of the vintage Mustang cranked down slowly, the man behind the wheel revealing himself on the other side of the glass, a stoic expression written across handsome features. He looked to the person standing outside, a knowing look in brown eyes. "So you gonna stop playin' and get in the car, or are you still mad?"