[turkey day, nov 21]

[youfeelluckypunk]

They've graciously been invited to Derek's Thanksgiving celebration on the actual day itself, but Reid had gotten to thinking after Luke had told him of the invitation that it would be nice to throw a small get-together of their own. Halloween at the bookstore had been a success, after all, and in spite of the fact that they'd been sent to a hellish version of Darrow for the next ten days, Reid had really enjoyed planning and decorating for the holiday with his boyfriend. In a way, it also serves as a bit of a housewarming, even if nobody else needs to know that. They've been officially living together for a week now, though the only real difference is that he's handed over his keys to the Dimera apartment back to the landlord.

Still, being able to call this apartment home, knowing that he gets to spend every night with the man he loves, it means something special to him, and he wants to share that sense of home with the rest of the people he cares about.

So he sends out texts to Alec and Magnus, Peter and Jason and Hild, telling them all to save the date for the twenty-first so they can have an early Thanksgiving celebration. Others are welcome, of course, and Reid suspects they'll have more than enough food because he'd made arrangements for one restaurant in particular (one that he visits often and had already been promoting take-out for Thanksgiving Day) to set him up with a turkey dinner early. There are all the expected fixings, though he'd ordered four turkeys because Luke still needs to eat more to make up for all the weight he'd lost in the alternate version of Darrow, plus a couple pumpkin pies and various other desserts strewn out across the table. The wine Peter had given to him on Halloween is out, available for consumption to those who want it, but Reid will be sticking to water tonight.

If anyone asks, he's been slaving away in the kitchen all day long, brewing coffee after coffee as he and Luke make sure everything looks nice and neat for their first Thanksgiving dinner together. The food is set out over the counter in the kitchen, china and utensils and glassware placed at the very end so people can take what they want and find a place to eat in the living room, where they've placed extra chairs, and it isn't until they hear the first knock at the door that Reid finally decides he's satisfied with the way everything looks.

Every single person who will be here tonight has been through so much, seen more than one person ever should, but tonight, Reid is just grateful that they're all still here.

Comments

[no_voice]

"Hey, Hot Pockets are like, a full course meal when you don't have time to cook," Jason says, shrugging. He doesn't have Peter's talents in the kitchen; he relies on microwaves and food that cooks in under five minutes. Before Saint Cecilia's, he'd had the family help to cook for him. In his own apartment, Jason is very much a spoiled fish out of water when Peter isn't around to help him.

"It's that, or Slim Jims," he says, suddenly realizing how very much he still sounds like his old, jock persona from high school. He almost winces at the thought.

[high_warlock]

He pulled a face, equal parts disgusted and judging, when Jason attempted to defend the honor of Hot Pockets. Magnus had eaten plenty of questionable things over his lifetime, including Hot Pockets, and he knew there were better options lurking in the freezer aisle.

He actually stuck out his tongue at the mention of Slim Jims. "How are you still alive?" Magnus marveled. "You poor boy. Did some priest tell you good food was evil?"

[no_voice]

Jason has to laugh at the judgemental look on Magnus' face; he's seen that look on Peter's face countless times before, and the familiarity of it is as comforting as it is amusing. "I take it you and Peter have been discussing my dietary habits?"

At the mention of the priest though, Jason stiffens. His shoulders tense and his posture immediately straightens, as his laughter fades and his facial expression hardens. Jason hates himself for such a reaction, even as he can't help it.

"I don't really give much weight to the advice of priests," he says with a shrug that he's perfected since the age of twelve.

[high_warlock]

Magnus' eyes widened fractionally at the change in Jason's demeanor. It wasn't surprising to see, but Magnus had hardened himself to the worthless opinions of the religious ages and ages ago. He forgot what it was like to be young and to care, to let anyone's opinion truly affect him.

"Nor should you," he continued smoothly, pretending to ignore the hitch in Jason's sunny disposition. "Especially in food. They eat cardboard bread and drink poor wine every week." Magnus wrinkled his nose. "A step below Slim Jims in my opinion."

[no_voice]

Jason ducks his head and bites on his lip, shame creeping throughout his bones for having such a strong reaction. He can't help it, though. He still remembers that cold, awful night. He still remembers banging on the door of the confessional, begging for the priest to let him in. And he still wakes up at night, covered in sweat, from the memory of the priest refusing him.

He does manage a smile at Magnus' response, grateful for it. "And not even, like, good poor wine, you know?" He asks. His heart is still heavy, but this banter with Magnus helps. "And is it actually made of cardboard? I've always wondered about that."