Chapter Text
Jayce woke before the sunrise. He blinked himself awake slowly, one hand drifting instinctively to the curve of his stomach. Each day they get closer and closer to meeting them.
Beside him, Viktor was still deep asleep, face half-buried in the pillow, hair a tousled mess. Jayce smiled. Today was special—Viktor’s birthday. And he wanted the morning to be perfect.
He eased himself out of bed, careful not to jostle the mattress, and tugged on one of his sweaters before heading downstairs. The floor was cool beneath his feet, the kitchen dim except for the faint glow from the stove clock. He moved slowly but confidently, gathering ingredients with a quiet determination.
He was making švestkové knedlíky—plum dumplings. Viktor’s favorite dish his mother used to make him.
Jayce had practiced yesterday in a mild panic, wanting to get everything right. This morning, the dough came together smoother. Rolling, filling, shaping—he worked in a steady rhythm, humming under his breath as the kettle whistled softly beside him. The kitchen filled with a sweet, fruity smell as the dumplings steamed, and Jayce stood there for a moment just letting the warmth settle into him.
Soft footsteps creaked out of there room.
Jayce grinned.
A moment later, Viktor appeared in the doorway, wearing pajama pants and the sleepy, bewildered expression Jayce adored—eyes wide, hair a mess, like he hadn’t quite caught up with being awake.
“Jayce?” Viktor murmured, voice rough from sleep. “What... what is all this?”
Before Jayce could answer, Viktor came closer, arms sliding around him from behind, pulling him gently against him. His palms settled over the swell of Jayce’s bump automatically, thumbs brushing small, absentminded circles as he exhaled against the back of Jayce’s neck.
Jayce laughed softly and leaned back into him. “Happy birthday, you dork.”
Viktor’s arms tightened.
“You made knedlíky,” Viktor realized, a little breathless. “For me?”
“For your birthday,” Jayce corrected lightly.
Viktor pressed a kiss to Jayce’s cheek. “This is... you didn’t have to do all this.”
“Of course I did,” Jayce said, turning his head just enough to bump their foreheads. “It’s your day.”
Jayce nudged him toward the table, carrying the plate of dumplings over. Viktor looked genuinely delighted as he sat down, like a kid seeing his favorite treat after months away.
The first bite had Viktor closing his eyes. “Oh. Jayce. This is perfect.”
Jayce sank into the opposite chair, chin on his hand, watching him with a stupidly fond smile. “I’m glad you like it. You deserve something nice today.”
Viktor looked up at that, soft around the eyes. “I already have something nice.”
Jayce rolled his eyes, but his cheeks warmed in spite of himself.
They ate slowly—Viktor savoring every bite, Jayce doing his best despite the occasional flutter in his stomach that made eating a little strange these days. Conversation drifted naturally—about how Viktor thought he’d end up forgetting his own birthday this year, about the baby kicking more, about how Jayce had started nesting way too early.
Midway through, Jayce cleared his throat casually. “So, I have plans for later.”
Viktor paused with his fork halfway up. “Plans?”
“Mhm.” Jayce folded his arms on the table. “I’m taking you to dinner tonight. Somewhere nice. And no, you don’t get to ask where.”
Viktor blinked. “Jayce, you don’t have to—”
Jayce raised a finger. “Birthday boy does not argue.”
Viktor laughed. “Alright. I’ll behave.”
“You better. I made a reservation and everything.”
“Thank you,” Viktor said quietly. “Really. For all of this.”
Jayce leaned back, one hand drifting to his belly. “Anything for you. Especially today.”
Viktor stood abruptly, crossed to Jayce’s side of the table, and kissed him before resting a hand over the bump again.
“Best birthday,” he murmured against Jayce’s lips. “Already.”
Jayce smiled. “Just wait ’til dinner.”
The city was still dressed in holiday lights, strings of gold and soft white draped between lampposts, reflecting off the windows as Jayce drove.
He didn’t say where they were going. Viktor didn’t ask.
When they pulled up to the restaurant—a small place tucked between two older brick buildings—Viktor blinked in surprise. Soft amber light poured out from the front windows, illuminating a cursive sign Jayce had seen years ago but never had an excuse to visit: The Linden House.
“Jayce...” Viktor murmured, stunned. “You got a reservation here?”
“Yep,” Jayce said, popping the car door open and grunting as he slid out. “And we’re not missing it. Come on.”
Viktor circled around immediately, offering Jayce an arm even though the sidewalk was clear. Jayce rolled his eyes but took it anyway, letting Viktor help him inside.
The warmth hit them first—soft heat, the kind that smelled faintly of butter and something roasting in the back kitchen. The restaurant was cozy rather than crowded, lit by candles and overhead lanterns made of frosted glass. The host greeted them cheerfully and led them to a small corner table half-hidden by a tall plant.
Viktor ran a hand over the linen tablecloth, looking genuinely overwhelmed. “Jayce... this is—”
“It’s your birthday,” Jayce said simply, settling into his seat. “Nothing’s too fancy today.”
Viktor sat across from him.
Menus arrived, and for a moment they didn’t talk—just the quiet rustle of pages, Viktor occasionally pointing something out and Jayce pretending he wasn’t already starving.
Eventually, Viktor set his menu down, fingers tapping lightly against the table. “You didn’t have to do all of this.”
Jayce snorted. “If you say that one more time tonight, I’m making you clean the bathroom when we get home.”
Viktor raised both hands in surrender. “Alright. I’ll stop.” After a beat, he added softly, “I’m... very happy you did.”
Jayce softened. “Good.”
Their drinks came—sparking water for Jayce, some dark, warm-looking cocktail for Viktor—and they clinked glasses gently.
“To your birthday,” Jayce said.
“To my incredibly thoughtful partner,” Viktor said.
Jayce groaned. “We’re not making this a compliment contest.”
“Well, you’d win,” Viktor replied, deadpan.
Their appetizers arrived—small dishes arranged almost too prettily to eat—and they slipped easily into conversation. Jayce talked about the baby kicking earlier, how he couldn’t tell if it was a foot or an elbow. Viktor talked about a book he’d started reading last week but kept falling asleep during.
At one point, Viktor reached across the table, fingertips brushing the back of Jayce’s hand. “Are you comfortable? Do you need to shift?”
He always asked. Always watched.
Jayce squeezed his hand. “I’m okay. Promise.”
Their entrées came out steaming—Viktor’s plate piled with roasted meat and herbs; Jayce’s a combo of something rich but not overwhelming (he’d learned his limits). Viktor cut a piece of his and slid it onto Jayce’s plate.
“Hey,” Jayce laughed. “That’s your birthday dinner.”
“I want you to try it,” Viktor said simply.
Jayce did—and hummed in appreciation. “It’s good. But getting spoiled is supposed to be your job today.”
“Too late,” Viktor teased. “I’ve already failed.”
By the time dessert menus appeared—Jayce was full but still curious. Viktor insisted Jayce pick, and eventually he settled on a warm pastry dish they could share.
When it arrived, Viktor moved his chair around to sit next to Jayce, nudging him gently until their shoulders touched. Jayce leaned into him, letting his head rest lightly against Viktor’s arm.
“This was a good idea,” Viktor murmured.
“Of course it was,” Jayce murmured back. “I planned it.”
Viktor nudged him softly, smiling.
They lingered long after dessert—talking in low voices, laughing quietly, savoring the warmth. Jayce’s hand rested unconsciously on his bump, and at one point Viktor placed his hand over it, thumb stroking gently.
Eventually, Jayce exhaled. “Alright, birthday boy. I’m about done for the night.”
Viktor straightened immediately. “Are you alright? Do you need—”
“I need...” Jayce began, then smirked, “...to go home before I fall asleep at this table.”
Viktor chuckled. “Then let’s go home.”
He stood, helping Jayce up with careful hands before guiding him toward the exit, offering his coat, watching each step on the sidewalk.
The car warmed slowly, the heater humming. Viktor drove with one hand, the other reaching over to rest on Jayce’s knee. Jayce, half-drowsy, watched the lights blur past the windows.