This isn't the first time he has to do this. It's been a thousand times, it seems, when it has only been eight so far. This is the ninth.

And this is a very special time, too, because it's not every day that your friend turns thirty.

Nick sighs softly, eyes roaming the pages, trying to find something suitable for the occasion. He has been wreaking his brain for it. For something suitable. Nothing has been found yet. But Nick keeps looking in the hopes of finding it.

He thought about doing something extravagant, maybe a car, or a bike, but it seemed... impersonal. He doesn't want to do impersonal.

Clothes were out of the question too. Too personal. That's not good either.

He's trying to find the middle ground, but it's a little hard when it comes down to Kevin.

It's a little bit over eight and Nick it's surprised that he's been closed in his studio with as many magazines as he could get his hands on for the past two months since lunch.

Nick shakes his head, passing pages in the magazine, seeing the latest trend and a Seiko watch that doesn't need battery. Nick tilts his head to the side.

That looks good, promising.

He reads more about it. It's solar, perfect, luxurious, expensive and seems to whisper happy birthday in the ear. Nick is tempted to get it.

He picks up his pencil and writes down the option. It's a very good one.

He doesn't check the rest of the list. He isn't proud of it. He doesn't like it much. There are many things there to be erased, but doesn't want to because, well, lets face it, the list would be almost empty. That'd depress him and he'd end up giving Kevin a card. He doesn't want that either.

So Nick keeps on searching.

It's late at Nick when Nick it's tired of reading magazines. He takes of his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. He looks at the words printed and barely sees a thing. He chuckles to himself. His brain couldn't function without glasses, so he puts them on once again and everything comes to focus, like changing lenses on a camera and seeing things for the first time. Or just rubbing your glazed eyes after a deep sleep and everything coming into view.

Nick felt like that when he first got glasses. Like he was seeing the world from a new perspective. He saw the greenness of the trees as they changed into red in the beginnings of autumn, gazing at the beautifulness of simple things like the edges and the thin red lines that went through the middle of the leaves. The sky seemed bluer and the clouds whiter. Perfect. Everything in that moment seemed perfect. And then he had seen Kevin, turning to him with one corner of his lips curled up in a small smirk at Nick's fascination with nature.

"So you can see," Kevin had said with a sly smile as they walked out of the optometrist and over to the parking lot.

Nick had nodded, taking the glasses in his hands and trying to see everything without them. He had frowned and wondered how in the world he had lived so long without knowing the beauty in the word and how simple resinal lenses provided the tools to gazed at such beauty.

"Yeah," he had muttered under his breath, putting the glasses back on and seeing everything in perfection. He had lowered his head just the slightly, gazing over the rim of the lenses and everything had blurred together. Dark spots that were supposed to be words in the signs on the parking lot. Big, large and rather obtuse shapes that he knew were cars but wouldn't have been able to tell one from another.

And then there were those yellowish or white rectangles with just a tinge of black in the middle, and Nick was sure were plaques, and numbers in there when Nick could only see black smeared all across it.

He had raised his head and looked through his lenses and finally realized how accurate eyes were needed and how he really should have gotten glasses a long time ago.

"Well," Kevin had continued saying, walking over to the car while Nick followed him. Because Kevin had opposed to Nick going to the optometrist alone now that they knew Nick needed lenses.

"You could have killed yourself," Kevin had said over the phone when Nick had commented about going to the optometrist the day before and finding out he really needed glasses, that he couldn't see a damn thing from afar. "You should have called me."

Nick had snorted, feeling childish at the suggestion. "I was just coming back home."

"You probably couldn't see a thing coming to you."

"I was driving at 30 miles. The worst that could have happened was me hitting a snail."

But Kevin hadn't let Nick off the hook. "I'm going with you to pick your glasses. You are not driving alone."

And it had been settled, therefore Kevin had gone with Nick while the blond felt like a kid who needed the company.

"Now that you can see," Kevin said with a small smile, "what do you want to do?" Kevin had finished as they both entered the car.

Nick had shrugged, wondering what they could see. "Lets just drive."

Kevin had nodded and indulged the blond.

Nick had spend the rest of the drive looking outside the window, seeing the faces of the people around him, seeing clearly the edges of the street lights and staring at the curves of the red light when they paused at a traffic light.

He frowns as he looks out the window and wonders just how long he'd been in his study. His watch tells him it's almost ten and he figures that's the reason he's suddenly hungry.

So Nick pauses for a minute, going into the fridge, getting out a box of pizza from yesterday's dinner and heating it up. He takes the whole box back the study, four slices in there and he assures himself that if he's still hungry after those four slices, he'll call for more.

It's a little over eleven when Nick cocks his neck to the side and hears his knuckles popping from the pressure and lowering his neck just the slightly to stare at the computer.

His hand reaches out and picks up a slice of today's pizza, almost half gone. He didn't know he was so hungry.

He's been searching the internet only with his right hand as with his left one he eats the pizza. He smiles at the books show over Amazon, tilts his head the side and wonders if books are a good gift.

He's been through almost everything imaginable as a gift already, and found nothing that seemed to scream Take me!

But there have been some pretty good offers.

Personal items seemed to tempt him for a while, like cameras and wallets and a new laptop, but it didn't seem that personal after he thought about it.

He feels likes he's back to square one, with the Seiko watch seeming the best option.

But he doesn't like it enough, so he keeps on searching.

About one in the morning Nick finally leaves for bed, exhausted, his neck killing him for being on the computer so long, his back starting to complain as well even if he was detoured by boats and cars and stuff for himself. He found tons of things he wanted to buy for him, but nothing seemed good enough for Kevin. His fingers are numb, his stomach aches from all the pizza he ate and the cans of Coke that followed.

And he still hasn't found anything.

Next thing planned came going to the stores. He spends a whole day in the wall, from Gab to Armani, to pretty much every single store that seemed to offer anything respectable.

He arrives home around five, throws his keys onto red-orangish bowl in the middle of the coffee table and walks over to the kitchen.

He sits on one of the stools, elbows propped up and face on his open palms.

It seemed to be pointless at this point. It's already October 1st and he still hasn't find anything worth buying.

He's about to settle for the watch, which he already has in a box, wrapped in red wrapping paper with a white bow on it, just in case he decides on it on the last minute, but Nick feels like continue his search.

He groans, shakes his head and wonders how in the world it can be so difficult to find something suitable for Kevin. The man had given him nine birthday presents already, not even counting Christmases, and each and every one of those presents were perfect.

It was either a rare comic book when he was fourteen, which he still has in his original plastic bag, thank you very much, or a stunning blue helmet with red stripes and weird Chinese symbols when he turned twenty one, suitable, thoughtful and oh so very perfect for the racing bike he had been itching to buy for almost two months. It seemed to tell him, go ahead, get it, you have the helmet for it already, don't you? And it had been the nudge he needed. The next morning, the bought the bike and still has it in his garage, and takes it out every other weekend just to enjoy the feeling of speed on either side of him, cutting through air and looking through tinted glass.

Kevin had great taste when it came down to presents.

Then why does Nick have to lack of it?

His past presents, Nick wants to believe, weren't awful. So maybe getting Kevin a scarf for the first birthday spent with the group wasn't the best, but he had been thirteen and on a five dollar allowance, so Kevin couldn't hold it against him.

Nick wonders if calling the guys to ask them what they've gotten Kevin would be... wrong?

He wants to have an idea of they are getting, just to either not over do it, or seem like he was cheap. He wants an indication. Something simple. Just a thought. A guidance.

But he shakes his head in determination and tells himself that if he's going to get the perfect gift, then the last he can do it's do it alone.

No help. No guidance. Not hints.

Nothing.

Plain brain cells and the assuredness that he knows Kevin enough to know what the older man wants.

At least he wants to believe he knows Kevin enough to know what he wants.

And then comes the following thought, if that is the case, if Nick really does know Kevin that good, that thoroughly, that amazing that he can see Kevin's mood in the green eyes that changes shades in the sightless, from deep green to pear green and then through olive green passing the shade of grass under last night's rain, then why is he having such a hard time finding the gift?

Nick can't answer, he really doesn't want to, because he doesn't wish to be disappointed by reality and the mere possibility that maybe he doesn't know Kevin at all.

So he keeps looking.

He keeps looking until that very same morning, staying out until two in the afternoon, just with enough time to get home, shower and change, pick up the watch because he didn't find anything better to give him and head to Kevin's place for the small get together.

He sighs as he is in his car, hating himself as his eyes drift over to the square box in red paper wrapper and white bow over the dashboard.

"I don't like you, you know?" Nick tells the box, like it actually cares. "There's something better out there. A great deal better. A million times better." He sighs. "And it's not that I don't know what it is, I just couldn't find it, okay? So play your part and pretend your it for Kevin and lets hope he looks happy when he looks at you otherwise I'm throwing you out the window, okay? And if he doesn't like it, then I hope you get run by a car and then eaten by a very hungry dog."

Nick pouted the rest of the way to Kevin's house.

"So guys, what did you get?"

Nick only slumped deeper into the couch at Howie's question.

It was somewhat of a tradition of them to compare gifts. It didn't matter it they got it one per two, or with someone else's help, but they liked to compare, bet which one would be the best, the most liked and all that.

They are boys, Nick tells himself as Alex grins smugly, like he knows he's got the best one this year. They are boys and they like to compete. Nothing wrong with that. Right?

"Who starts?" asks Brian with a glee in his face, like he wants to go first but doesn't want to seem too proud, too snobby.

He isn't doing a good job at it.

Howie shrugged with sheer calm oozing through his bones, but Nick sees right through it. Howie, too thinks he's done this year.

Oh, shit.

"It's nothing much, really," Howie says and Nick wants to kill him.

Liar, his mind seems to scream. Fucking liar. You've got it. You've probably got it, that thing I've been looking for and couldn't find it. And how in the world was I supposed to find it when you've got it already, and probably have for the past month?

But he keeps quiet and smiles at Howie as he produces something from his back. It's square and hard and wrapped in green paper. Plain green paper with a green bow.

Nick's nose flares. He hates Howie at the moment.

"So, what is?"

Brian it's inquiringly, like he's worried Howie will outwit him.

Nick groans inwardly.

Perfect.

Howie grins slyly, and Nick wants to deck him.

Perfect. Just perfect.

"First edition of The two Towers," Howie simply says and Nick feels like all colors has left his face.

Oh, shit.

He should have seen it.

When Kevin first red the book, about five years or so ago, he fell in love with them. Bugged and bothered the guys until tiredness took over and they started shushing Kevin when he opened his mouth because they just knew he'd start talking about Middle Earth, and Frodo's suffering or Tolkien himself.

He wanted to get his hands in the first editions, of the whole collection, including "The Hobbit" and "The Silmarinion", but they were kinda poor back then, and those books were too expensive for Kevin to buy.

So when they had their break through and made it in Europe and then back home, Kevin started his search. He got "The Silmarinion" first, then "The return of the King". "The hobbit" followed about a year later, and "The Fellowship of the ring" happened about a year back.

Kevin wasn't able to find "The two Towers", no matter how hard he searched.

So Howie probably searched for a long while, and went to a great trouble to find such book, must have found it months ago, cost him a fortune and hid it all this time.

And Nick hates him for it. And for many more things he can't think of right now, but will come up with in a little while.

He had been so close. So fucking close. He had been in Amazon, thinking about books. He should have thought that "The Lord of the Rings" was Kevin's favorite Trilogy, cherished to his heart and read about a million times. Even now, Kevin liked buying everything Lord of the Rings related. He's got the Middle Earth map and a dictionary for Elfish Nick has no idea how in the world he got it, but Kevin has it, and it should have tipped him, in some way.

He had been close, but he lost it.

Shit.

Alex whistles in appreciation, but that smug grin it's still plastered in his lips and Nick wonders if Alex's gift could be better.

It can't, he tells himself. It just can't. Nothing it's better than Tolkien for Kevin. Not even the Holy Grail. It can't be better.

But Alex it's anything but a bluffer, so if that smirk it's still in his lips, plastered there, taunting him, letting Nick know he, apparently, doesn't know everything about Kevin, because Alex's present it's better.

Nick feels like groaning once again.

"Well, then I go," Alex said, titling his head and talking a long drag of his cigarette.

He's been smoking a lot lately, Nick realizes, but it's probably better than drinking, so no one ever comments on it.

"What you've got?"

Nick glares at Brian. Another one proud of himself. What if only he who couldn't find an appropriate gift for Kevin?

Alex, too, pulls out something from behind his back, and Nick leans to the side to try and see what it is. Nick's present fits perfectly in his jacket pocket and he feels like an idiot for it.

He tries to see if Brian has something behind him, too, but there's nothing, as far as Nick can see. Is it bigger? Too big that he couldn't bring it himself?

Oh, shit. Shit. Shit.

Alex's present it's manageable, doubling slightly inside the gold and brown wrapper with a small reddish bow on it.

Nick hates Alex already and wonders if he'll end up not hating Brian after this.

"This, my friends," Alex says leaning over the edge, looking at each one of them in the eye and Nick wants to cringe at the confidence he saw there, "it's the original partiture of "I'll be back""

This time, Nick bits his lower lip, hard and hopes he doesn't draw blood.

"I'll be back"?

Of all the things Alex had to get his hands on, did it had to be I'll be back?

Why?

Why oh dear Lord?

Nick wants to groan.

It had to be I'll be back, didn't it. Only Kevin's all time favorite Beatles' song.

And the partiture?

It probably had scribbling in John's handwriting and doodles of both Paul and Ringo, fingerprints and scratches made by George.

Kevin loves that song.

Nick knows that. How many times has he heard Kevin on the piano, playing that very same song?

Kevin loves George's guitar in the interlude, and Paul's voice.

He just loves it.

And Alex has it, not him.

Alex.

And what was it with the guys and originals today? Everything had to be original to be worthwhile?

Nick turns to look at Brian and wonders if he's got any thing else original to brag about in front of Nick's noses while the blond dies in self humiliation.

He wishes he could die. Anything before showing the guys the little, stupid, pocket fitting present.

Brian nods approvingly, a small smile on his face, but it tells tell you something else. It says I've got the thing, no matter how close you all are. I've got it.

Nick just knows Brian's present has to be worse. But what could be worse that a Beatles' partiture?

And how in the world did Alex found it, anyway. It's supposed to be owned by the record company, or Paul himself.

Shit.

He had to have slept with someone, Nick just knows it. Maybe Paul's ex, Cynthia, who got the partiture in the divorce settlement.

Shit.

"That's all good guys, but I've got something that's going to rock your world."

Nick hates Brian too.

Alex nods as he looks at Brian, leaning against the back of the couch and looking at him with expectant eyes.

"Show us."

Brian shakes his head and Nick feels like he's sweating.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

Well, Howie, Nick thinks, obviously, it's too fucking big.

"Couldn't get it in," Brian explains calmly. "It's outside. Or actually, in Kevin's garage already."

Nick just drops his gaze to the floor.

The garage?

It could only be a car.

Or...

"A bike?"

Brian nods at Alex's question.

Shit.

"Tamashiro V1500."

Shit. Double shit.

Kevin wanted to buy that bike a while ago. Perfect for dirt bike racing and all that Kevin loves so much. But it was very expensive and Kevin figured it'd bee a little bit too much.

And now, his favorite cousin got it for him.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

"Now," Alex says, knowing when he was beaten, "that's impressive." He turns to Nick. "What did you get the old man kiddo?"

Nick's ashamed of his present, filling it weighing in his jacket pocket and he whishes there was a way out of this one.

But there isn't.

He has to show the guys, or lie to them and tell he didn't get Kevin anything, which, really, considering, wouldn't be that much of a lie, because Nick feels like he really didn't get Kevin anything. Not anything valuable, at least.

And before he can decide what to do and either way make a fool of himself, Kevin walks into the living room, bringing the cold beers and a couple of snacks.

Kevin had said he needed to finish something when they just arrived, giving them enough time to show off the presents.

Now Kevin was here, and Nick still didn't have anything.

But as soon as Kevin walks inside, presents are forgotten and they start to talk, laugh and drink. They eat the pizza and the snacks. They drink some more and chuckle and laugh and enjoy the company through and through.

They stay at Kevin's place for the night, already a habit as well. They always drink a little too much and Kevin would die before letting either one of them drive back home.

So when they are standing up, dragging themselves to the rooms, presents on the dinning room table, left there to the opened the next morning when they are sober because, really, they've had too much to drink, Nick sighs to himself.

He still hasn't decided what to give Kevin. It's either the stupid watch that not so long ago seemed to fit, if only in the slightest, but now looks like an insult, or be a bigger asshole and tell Kevin he didn't get him anything.

They guys are all entering their rooms and Nick's hand it's on the doorknob while Kevin, his back to Nick, it's walking toward his own.

It's now or never. Nick knows that.

So he calls out to Kevin, stopping him in his tracks.

Kevin turns around, smiles easily at Nick, tilting his head to the side. "Yep?"

Nick swallows and still doesn't know what to tell him.

"About the present..."

Kevin waves it off. "We'll open them in the morning, don't worry."

But Nick shakes his head. "It's not that." He pauses, weighting his words. He takes a tentatively step towards Kevin, and the older man approached him as well.

"I just..."

He trails off, not really knowing what to say.

He doesn't have a present for Kevin.

Not a good one anyway.

Kevin smiles tenderly at Nick, his nose wrinkling and Nick feels his heart relaxes. He likes the way Kevin can make him feel at home with only one smile.

"I..."

Nick sighs and Kevin shakes his head.

"It's okay."

Nick bits down his lower lip. "It's not."

"I'll like what you get me," Kevin says reassuringly, only a step from Nick now, smiling at the younger man, green eyes twinkling under the hallway light.

Nick nods at the words. He knows that.

"I don't like what I got you."

Kevin chuckles. "It's always the same, remember? You always feel like I won't like it, and I love it every year. I'll love it now too."

Nick wants to believe him, really believe him, but he doesn't know if he can. If he doesn't like his own his present, then how can Kevin like it?

He tries to think about it there, eyes on the floor, under the dim light, Kevin looking at him like looking at home, Nick feeling bad and flushed and angered at himself for not searching more thoroughly, for not coming up with the ideas the guys did.

He feels like a prick for not knowing his friend better.

And when he looks up, he meets dazzling green that right now are an emerald shade he's seen before. He knows what it means. He knows what they herald.

And what he's been worried over for the past month, for god knows how long, suddenly doesn't matter more than which brand of coffee to buy.

It just doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter because Nick recognizes that there are things deeper that than, more meaningful. Like worrying over a friend so much that you'll blow off your afternoon just to take such friend to pick up their glasses. That you'll stay with someone all through the night because they are sick.

That matters. That's what matters the most.

And Nick asks himself for a moment how come he didn't seen it before, how could he not see it.

Except that isn't important right now.

There are other things he should be seeing, he shoulder be staring at.

He knows that now.

He knows it as he stares forward, into green eyes that are confused and a little bit bewildered by all the emotion that has flickered through blue eyes in the past two seconds.

Nick can see the bigger picture now.

He sees the face that holds such perfect pair of green eyes, and he sees Kevin tilting his head to the side, more bemused than ever before.

And Nick feels like laughing, like laughing for the sheer pleasure of it, because he has never felt this intoxicated, this high without actually consuming anything. And it's all because of this man standing before him, Nick twigs, and that's the most fun of it.

He feels his heart warming up, relaxing, accommodating itself onto the environment. He feels his face flushing, and then his chest seemed to press against his rib cage and his heartbeat skipped a beat and his breathing caught in his throat.

So maybe not finding a present Nick could feel perfect wasn't that important.

It was only important because Nick made it important.

But Kevin couldn't care less.

Kevin had never cared about such petty things, Nick knows that now, probably knew it all long, but just wouldn't see it.

Though he won't make the same mistake twice.

Nope.

Nick knows better now.

He knows better, specially now that Kevin is looking at Nick like this, this... loving.

A smile makes its way to Nick's lips, slowly, as if taking its sweet time because the result will be sweet. Oh so very sweet, sweeter and better and more wonderful than Nick had ever imagined.

"I didn't get you a present," Nick says slowly.

Kevin frowns for a moment, almost taken back, but then his demeanor relaxes, like it's okay, like it doesn't matter than an object wasn't bought because Nick is there, with him, standing only a foot away, oh so very close at the same time, and that's enough.

"It's okay. I don't mind."

Kevin is relaxed with him, not pissed like Nick could have expected him.

Nick knows better now, so he leans over, his lips brushing Kevin's in the softness of the caresses, in the softness of the touches and Nick can fell Kevin smiling against the kiss.

When Nick pulls back, the smile it's still in Kevin's lips, but brighter, bigger, and his eyes seemed to shine so brightly, it's almost blinding, and Nick it's happy, proud almost, that he put that smile there and that shade of green there. Kevin it's slightly breathless from the kiss that began and ended before he can grasp the moment, the chance of what they may someday be, together.

But that's okay, because the kiss will repeat in a moment, Nick knows that. He leans over and kisses Kevin once again, and this time Nick draws Kevin's lower lip into his mouth with a nimble flick of his tongue, nibbling with a firm but not bruising pressure.

And when they pull apart once again, Kevin gazes at Nick with those eyes, with green eyes that are glazed with the mist of a troubled storm, like there is be no way to deny the forces of nature.

And Nick knows he was right. Kevin doesn't care about the present.

There are more important things, like the way Kevin's hand moves to Nick's chin, not quite touching, but hovering, and then down his collarbone as Nick watches Kevin's hand moving, seeming to want to caress the soft flesh under tentative fingertip and Kevin's hand is almost shaking, like Kevin fears that the minute his fingers actually touch Nick, the blond man will disappear.

But that isn't true.

And Nick knows it.

So he proves it to Kevin.

Nick takes a step forward, bringing his skin in contact with Kevin's finger and the older man takes in a hasty breath, catching in his throat, and it makes Nick proud once again, to know Kevin's breathing has halted because of him.

Seconds later, moments after that, seconds that feel like hours in such a intimate touch, Nick lifts his eyes and finds Kevin staring at him and everything it's perfect as it is, with no present, with only the dim light of the second floor corridor in Kevin's own house to illuminate them.

So Nick smiles at Kevin, smiles lovingly, cheerfully, blissfully, almost childishly, but Kevin doesn't seem to mind, for the older man has a very similar expression of sheer bliss. And then his hand moves to caress Nick's cheek, really touch it this time, and Nick leans into the touch, eyes closing just slightly, like the caress was too much, too deep and too heartfelt to bare, and everything it's alright after all.