New Year's Birthday.

Every year the same thing happened. Nothing ever changed. On December 31st, Edgar Wallace would rise from his bed and walk the short distance to his bathroom. He would look into the mirror and see new lines had somehow, over the year, snuck their way onto his face. Edgar would stand there, frowning at a reflection of someone he didn't think he had ever really known.

However, like clockwork, his phone would ring twenty minutes after his alarm went off. A generic tone he never felt compelled to change outside of this moment. On this day, it annoyed him to no end. Rung in his ears so deeply it shook his brain and made him groan as the customary day-long headache took up its throne at his brow.

With one last look at himself, noting the new grays, like weeds overtaking the hair near his temple. He didn't have time to weigh on that; he only had a few more rings before the caller left an angry message. Admonishing Edgar for ignoring yet another call.

"Hello, Mother." He sighed heavily as his mother, Madeline's light; airy laugh filled his ears.

"Ed, I swear, you get angrier every year."

"Did you need something?" He knew it was blunt, rude—but so was his mother when she wasn't putting on these airs.

His stepfather, Charlie, was probably there, sitting at the table, newspaper laid before him as he sipped his tea and dusted crumbs from the morning toast off his chest. Edgard wondered if Charlie had ever met the honest Madeline or if he thought she had always been kind.

"I wanted to wish my only child a happy birthday and see what you're doing for this New Year's Eve. Is that so bad?" Edgar knew that tone, condescending, belittling right before the guilt tripping began; he hoped it made Charlie raise a brow.

"Of course not, mother, thank you." His grip on his phone grew tighter, and he heard the plastic case groan under his fingers. "I'm sorry, though, I have an early meeting this morning, so I need to get going. Tell Charlie I said hello, and before you ask, yes, I promise to try and visit soon. Goodbye." He hung up before she was able to respond.

A sharp knock on his bedroom door, startling him free of his mind.

"Eddie? You up, man?" Edgar couldn't help the soft smile that forced its way onto his lips at the voice.

"It's Edgar, you know that John. But yes, you come in," he called, and the door opened to reveal what Edgar could only describe as the human embodiment of a Great Dane.

John Miller was younger, 35 to his newly 42; he was tall, 6'6" perhaps, though Edgar had never asked. He judges it based on their minimal height difference; John's eyes sit at about Edgar's brow level. They had been friends for only two years, meeting at work. However, it was the closets friendship Edgar had ever had. He had been a strange child, his name seemed to be the precursor to that.

Which was perhaps why Edgar hating this day so much. When he was young, poor, and strange, children did not wish to celebrate his birthday with him when they had other holiday parties to attend. The older he got, the more bitter he became about it. Yet, here was John, kind and pure, he was the light in Edgars dark world. His polar opposite and it worked for them.

"You ready to go?" He smiled, and Edgar simply raised his brow, "well, clearly no. Get dressed, man; we got things to see, people, too,"

"I would thank you to not saying that." Edgar glared, and John waved him off.

"It's New Year's Eve, the day is young... your older. Let's do something!" He spoke with a gentle laugher following his words as he walked over to Edgar's closet and opening the door. He shifted through a few shirts before Edgar's brain caught up with him; he walked over, pushing him away from the closet with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"What are you doing?"

"Where is your blue flannel?" John looked down at him, blinking with childlike wonder, and Edgar sighed. "What? Its blue makes your face look exactly the same… very attractive." He wiggled his brow as the older man glared up at him. "Fine, fine. I'll admit it, I like it because I like the way it pulls tight on your chest and shows,"

"John." He batted his hands away from the hanging cloths as John reached out again. "We have work in an hour. I hate this holiday and I'm not exactly partial to being reminded of my age."

"Oh, I requested the day off for both of us a month ago…did I not tell you that?" another heavy sigh left Edgar through his nose as he leaned back against the wall and dropped his head into his hands. That was not expected. This was new. Edgar didn't like new things.

"John," He stopped, breathing softly, trying to calm himself. John was a good person; he didn't deserve to be snapped at. "How?"

"How what?" He raised a brow while tilting his head to the side.

"How did you request a day off for me?" Edgar's arms crossed; his eyes could not resist the urge to glare.

"Carol in HR still thinks we are dating—no idea why." He shrugged, and Edgar threw up his hands.

"Because you told her that last year to get out of work when I had my accident." A painful twinge hit his shoulder at the memory, and he sighed, rubbing at the sore muscles. It had been months since he finished rehab, and still, the pain had not faded completely.

"Oh right," he smiled with false innocence.

"What did you do?"

"Well, if Carol asked if you said yes tomorrow… just nod." Edgar tried not to laugh; he really did. This absolute disaster of a man before him had no right to be as charming and likable as he was. "What? She wouldn't let me put your day off on the calendar, but then I told her that I had this whole plan to secretly propose, but you never take time off,"

"Because I like my job. I enjoy going to work and doing my job." He glared, and John waved him off again.

"That place sucks. Sitting at a desk all day is dumb."

"Not when you have a corner office." Edgar rubbed his eyes with his left hand, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You know the partners will have a field day with this, right?"

"Why?" John tilted his head again.

"Highly educated research analyst, my ass," Edgar muttered as he stared down his friend. "You have gotten three promotions since you started two years ago, all earned but still, it is when we met. When you forced friendship upon me. You're now the head of our analyst department, and need I remind you why I have a corner office?" Edgar pushed off the wall.

"Because you look the hottest in a suit, and we must impress clients?" John was smirking now, and Edgar took a controlled breath to keep his embarassment at bay.

"John."

"Okay, so I can see why it might appear bad that the head of our company is dating a recently promoted lowly worker, but"

"We are not dating." Edgar felt the need to remind John of that as he started his rant. John held his gaze for a long moment before looking away and returning to his closet. "John?" This sudden silence was not like the young man, even when upset or uncomfortable he made jokes.

John had always been loud in the two years they had been friends. He matched Edgar's anger at the world in force with his joy. John had wormed his way into Edgar's life seamlessly. It started with the odd invite to the bar to watch the game on nights he'd already been planning to go. Now, John had a key to his penthouse and acted like he owned it.

"We could be," John muttered, pulling out the blue flannel and handing it over.

"Could be what?"

"Highly educated CEO, my ass." John smiled, biting his lip as Edgar rolled his eyes. "We could be dating; you just won't get your head out of your own ass and see it."

"What?" Edgar felt slightly taken aback.

"I'm asking you out. For a date. On your birthday—your least favorite day of the year." John crossed his arms. Not out of annoyance but discomfort.

"Why?"

"Eddie, come on, man!" John laughed, pacing a few steps away before turning back and turning to face him again. He was annoyed now.

"I won't change. I'm mean and rude." Edgar offers, and it was John's turn to look confused.

"I'm not asking you to change." Running a hand threw his hair, John sighed, "all I'm asking is for a chance to take you out on a perfectly planned birthday date."

"Perfectly planned?" Edgar smiled. As the other man nodded, he held John's gaze and thought it over. "Okay."

"Really?" John's eyes went wide, and he smiled brightly. "I know you hate celebrating."

"I do." He nodded, stepping closer to the other, and John's smile faded a little. Replaced with a smirk, he locked his lips, letting his eyes noticeably travel over Edgar's body as he walked. "But I may be able to be convinced to enjoy it…this year at least."

"Good, put the shirt on, grab some jeans and let's get this show on the road." John smiled, walking quickly over to the door. "Oh, and I'm not oblivious to what you were trying for just now. The perfectly planned date includes a perfectly planned midnight New Year's kiss, so I'm not tainting it with one that will lead to us not leave this room for the rest of the day, and thus the ruining of said perfectly planned date."

Edgar watched him go, shaking his head fondly. Ever since meeting John, life had been more exciting and more adventurous. As he slipped the flannel on, he paused for a moment.

"Hmm," he hummed as he finished pushing his arm through the sleeve and lifted his hand rest against his forehead. His headache was gone. Perhaps… Edgar would enjoy celebrating this year.