While Sterling was pulling dinner out of the oven, Henry grabbed the two plates on the table and brought them closer to Sterling so he could dish out dinner. He relished that fleeting kiss, something he had so wanted to do for so long. It wasn't that their kisses were few and far between, it was simply that this kiss held meaning. This was the kiss of Henry starting to shape up and change some things in his life. It was the kiss that he hoped his panther would learn to accept. Because frankly, Henry was not going to be sleeping with Malia again. The first time he could understand, the second time was harder to forgive...any more and he knew that would be the death of the relationship between him and Sterling. So this kiss marked the beginning of his efforts to rekindle what had been lost. What better night to do that than on their anniversary.

Setting the plates no the counter, he smiled at Sterling's request to lower the lights. He nodded his head softly and if in an instant, the lights slowly dimmed until there was only a soft glow of candle light. He created a few floating orbs of light and had them placed along the dinning room in order to emit a little more light than two simple tea lights. The setting was utterly romantic. And had they been a couple who had been intimate for a long while â€" then the lighting would have been perfect for a little romance before dinner. But because the two of them hadn't been intimate in so long, Henry was taking things slow, unsure of how far Sterling would let him go tonight.

He smiled up at his boyfriend, grabbing the plated food and moving towards the dinning room table. He set down the plates at their seats, one at the head of the table and one to the side. He pulled out the seat for Sterling at the head of the table, motioning for him to take his seat. "After you..." And only when his boyfriend had settled in front of the chair did Henry mimic his movements to slide the chair beneath Sterling when he sat. The action was romantic and gentleman-like, something Henry had never truly bothered with. But tonight, he was trying.

He settled into his own seat and picked up his beer, holding it out to Sterling for a toast. "To us..." He waited until he heard the clink of the bottle before he drew it to his lips and sipped on it softly. Setting it back down on the table, he picked up his fork and knife and began to cut into the food. "How was work?" What was he thinking? He was terrible at small talk. While he waited for Sterling's answer, he dug into his lamb shanks and when the flavors assaulted his taste buds, he moaned softly in complete satisfaction. "Sterling, these are perfect, thank you for cooking them." He knew he had dumped cooking dinner on the man, but he was so good at it.