Work Text:
"Thanksgiving is objectively the worst holiday," Aniq declares, pulling a tray of butternut squash out of the oven. "The entire mythos is based on—well, calling it historical revisionism would be an understatement."
Yasper scoops out some of the squash with a spoon. but Aniq grabs his wrist before he can shove it in his mouth, because it's far too hot to eat. “Yeah, the only good part of Thanksgiving is the emoji copypastas that say stuff like, Happy Thotsgiving; it’s finally Hoevember!”
He’d been texting those to people all morning, but Chelsea was the only one who responded in kind. Aniq had left him on read, which Yasper had whined about. I’m literally lying in bed next to you, Aniq had said. Why send an eye-roll emoji when I can just do it in person?
"But you can find an inappropriate spam-text for literally any occasion," Aniq retorts, before blowing on Yasper’s spoon to cool the food down. “You sent me that annoying one for Halloween.”
"Now Halloween, that’s a much better holiday.” Yasper eats half of his spoonful of butternut squash, which is delicious. Aniq is an unfairly good cook. “Thanksgiving’s stupid. You can't show up to Thanksgiving dressed like Sexy Luigi and demand candy. Plus, turkey's kinda mid and cranberry sauce is disgusting."
"Well, lucky for you, my parents are making beef jollof this year." Aniq eats the rest of the squash from Yasper’s spoon, then turns off the oven, satisfied that it’s properly cooked.
Yes, Yasper is very lucky. Cranberry sauce isn't the only reason he hates Thanksgiving. His extended family get-togethers are always exhausting. Best-case scenario, they're fun and exhausting. (Like two years ago, when his mom was mad at Aunt Sheila for making her godawful gluey mashed potatoes instead of the bread rolls she was supposed to bring, and Aunt Sheila was mad at Uncle Benny for doing his annual dramatic reading of that chapter from A People's History of the United States about how the pilgrims were murderers, and then they all accused each other of ruining dinner before making up ten minutes later.) Worst-case scenario, Yasper gets peppered with well-meaning, intrusive questions that make all of his insecurities bubble up to the surface. People really pay you to put in their speakers for them? Whatever happened to that nice dentist you were dating? And he can't even get hammered because he has to drive himself home.
But this year's going to be different. This year, he gets to take refuge in the Adjayes' family lunch. It's the first major holiday since he and Aniq started dating, but Yasper's way less nervous about that than he is about the prospect of spending time with his own family. He sees Aniq's parents all the time, and they've never not been exceedingly kind. The most high-drama thing that could conceivably happen at the Adjaye Thanksgiving is a competitive post-lunch game of Scrabble.
"I am lucky," Yasper agrees. "Look at me, with my perfect boyfriend making soup and stopping me from burning the roof of my mouth."
"Well, technically, all I've made is some roasted vegetables." Aniq looks at his watch. "If you're finally done mincing the shallots, I can actually start making the soup."
"Ooh, yes, Chef," Yasper says in his worst porn voice. He hands the cutting board to Aniq, who rolls his eyes. That's fair, Yasper thinks. He's an all-around terrible sous chef. It took him a stupid-long time to finish chopping the shallots, cause he kept getting distracted by Instagram. Plus, he's more interested in putting Aniq in a silly apron and kissing him up against the countertop than he is in actually cooking. Aniq has to be the one to keep them on track.
"Would you get my immersion blender out of that cupboard?" Aniq points at it while he starts to sauté the shallots.
Yasper brings it over and puts it on the counter, then drapes himself over Aniq's back. "Ugh, this smells amazing already."
"That's because this is literally just onions and a stick of butter." Aniq turns his head to the side to kiss Yasper. "So, do you still wanna play it by ear whether we go to your family's place, too?"
Aniq can always read Yasper's mind. There's easily time to fit both in, lunch at Aniq's parents' and dinner with Yasper's family. Yasper had technically told his mom that they would be in attendance, and Aniq had doubled his butternut squash soup recipe so they’d have enough to bring to Aunt Sheila's. But Yasper had also privately decided there was a 50/50 chance he'd opt to flake.
He could tell Aniq wouldn't have chosen this approach himself—he's all about concrete plans and honoring his commitments, whereas Yasper's life philosophy is more, if shit sucks, hit the bricks. But Aniq is well aware that Yasper has a complicated relationship with his family, and has said multiple times this week that he'll support Yasper in whatever he needs.
...Which is what ultimately convinces him to give it a shot. "Fuck it, let's do it,” Yasper decides. It’s going to be a lot better with Aniq there. “Everyone's gonna love you. Especially Uncle Benny, if you tell him why you hate Thanksgiving. And if it's terrible, I can always fake food poisoning."
"Sounds like a plan. But no blaming your fake food poisoning on my family's lunch," Aniq warns, with an accusatory point of his immersion blender. "Oh, do you want to come up with a signal for if you need to leave?"
Yasper could marry this man. "Aniq, you're a genius. Okay, how about something subtle, like—"
"—if you're about to suggest It's Yasper Time, I swear to god..."
"Who, me? Of course not!" Yasper had, in fact, been tempted to suggest It's Yasper Time, mostly just to be a pest. "But why do you always veto It's Yasper Time as a secret signal for things?"
“I’m just that unreasonable.” Aniq smiles. “Hm… Why don’t you just tap twice on my shoulder?” he proposes, and Yasper immediately taps twice. “Yeah, like that.”
Yasper keeps tapping. “No, the shallots are sticking—”
“Oh, shit.” Aniq turns around and frantically resumes stirring. “Good catch. They were just about to burn.”
“Did I just save Thanksgiving, or did I just save Thanksgiving?” Yasper goes back to draping himself over Aniq’s back, with his chin resting on Aniq’s shoulder. “We gotta make the soup like this now, so I can watch the shallots at all times.”
“I admire your commitment to the culinary arts,” Aniq teases, but he lets Yasper cling to him while he finishes cooking.
It’s gonna be fine. With Aniq, Yasper’s life is all best-case scenarios.