David groans as Patrick slides out of him. He always hates how empty he feels afterward, the abrupt change from feeling about as close as they possibly could be to lying by himself with rapidly drying excretions.
So he's pleasantly surprised when, instead of Patrick heading to the bathroom for a washcloth, he instead takes his face in his hands and kisses him again.
"Happy birthday," Patrick murmurs into the kiss before he breaks and presses their foreheads together. "Was that okay?"
Patrick still asks him afterward, every time they have sex, even though by now it's pretty clear that it's more than okay. He stares into Patrick's eyes, full of affection but blurry from how close their faces are.
"Fuck," he says instead, and he can tell from the eyes that Patrick is frowning, now. "I'm 40 today."
Patrick chuckles and trails kisses over his cheek and down his neck. "An important part of growing old together is growing old, you know. Not that you're even that old." Then he's still against David's collarbone. "Seriously though, was that okay?"
David swallows the urge to be snarky and moves Patrick so he can look into his eyes. "That was perfect. You're perfect. I'm just 40 today."
Patrick kisses him again, quickly. "Okay, birthday boy. And if you were serious about working today..."
"I was. You're working, and I don't want to spend the day away from you."
"...then you need to jump in the shower now, given the time needed for your morning routine."
"Yes, mother," he grumbles, then frowns. "Given what we just did, that sounds extremely incorrect, so please forget I said that."
Patrick grins and the side of his eyes crinkle. "Whatever you say, son." Then he frowns, too. "No, you're right. That is really bad."
Patrick rolls off of him, and David watches his ass as he pads off into the bathroom.
------------------
The mozzarella stick platter and two flat-looking glasses of champagne are ready and waiting at their usual table by the time they finish closing for the night and head to the café.
"Sorry about the fizz," says Twyla as she appears next to their table holding a small, red box. "I must've mistimed things today. But we can fix that, no problem."
"That's really not..." they both start together as Twyla drops a second raisin into each of their glasses.
"...necessary," Patrick finishes as David watches the raisin sink to the bottom of his glass to join its friend.
"I'll be back shortly to take your orders!"
That too, is a formality by this point. They've ordered the same thing every year since that first date, and David finds a strange sense of comfort in it. That, no matter how much their lives have changed since then, they can still have something that doesn't.
Patrick smiles at him and grabs a mozzarella stick, pointedly ignoring the raisin-y champagne. "Cheers."
------------------
"So," Patrick says into his shoulder, where soft lips are pressing kisses into his superheated skin. Patrick had gotten the washcloth first, this time. "I got you a present."
"Did you? What's the catch?"
"Something about love and affection for the rest of our lives."
"Sounds like a pretty bad deal to me."
That should be too far, but not much has been too far between them for a long time, since his insecurities have long since been wiped away and Patrick has gotten more proactive at talking about his problems. Patrick smiles and reaches under the bed, fumbling around for a bit before handing him a gift bag.
"Happy birthday." David pulls out a framed receipt. "It's the receipt from the second sale at the store. The first store."
He glances over at Patrick, who has that mischievous look he does when he's teasing, and David realizes it's supposed to be a trolling gift. Still, as he runs his fingers over the shiny silver frame, that he suddenly realizes is the same as the one holding the business license in their first store, he feels his eyes tearing up. "Patrick..."
Patrick's face falls, as if he thought the joke was lost in translation. "Oh. No, I got... I got you a real present too, David. I was just..."
David shuts him up with a kiss, and they lose themselves in each other for a bit before Patrick breaks and nuzzles into his spot in David's neck.
"Seriously, though. I was cleaning out boxes of old documents and found it. It might not even be the second receipt, but the time on it seemed..."
"Shut up. I love it."
He can feel Patrick smile into his skin. "Okay."
"I think that frame is a little too corporate for our brand, though."
"Hm. It's our brand now?"
"Baby. It's always been our brand." Patrick hums into his neck. "Although with your design sense, maybe it's time for a coup."
Patrick chuckles and presses kisses down his shoulder again. "Happy birthday, husband."