Thanksgiving  

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“Brian.”

 

“What?”

 

“Are you doing anything for Thanksgiving?”

 

“What?”

 

“You heard me.”

 

“You know what I think of holidays.”

 

“Yeah, but I like them.”

 

“Justin, what are you getting at?”

 

“Could we have Thanksgiving dinner here this year?  Invite the whole gang?”

 

“Have you lost your fucking mind?”

 

“Don’t be mean.  I’d like to do this.”

 

“I don’t do holidays.”

 

“Please, just this once.  It could be fun.”

 

“Fun?  It sounds like torture.”

 

“Come on, Brian.  I’ll make it worth your while.”

 

“How?”

 

“I don’t know.  I’ll think of something.”

 

“Why do you want to do this?”

 

“I always liked Thanksgiving, the food and family.  I don’t have that family anymore.  I’d like to do this for my new family, and Molly and Mom.”  Brian saw Justin trying to smile and look positive.  He felt the underlying pain in his words.  Justin had lost a lot on the road to this life he had chosen.

 

“Well ... maybe.  If you come up with a really good incentive program.”

 

“Like what?” Justin asked, suddenly looking brighter.

 

“You know I like it when you’re creative,” Brian said suggestively.

 

“You mean in bed?”

 

“Doesn’t have to be in bed.  It could be on the couch, on the floor, in the Jeep.”

 

“Brian,” Justin groaned.

“So have you come up with anything?”

 

“Gosh, give me a minute, will you?”

 

“I’m starting to feel horny just thinking about it.”

 

“I have a great idea!” Justin grinned.

 

“You do?  What?”

 

“But I can have Thanksgiving dinner here?  Right?” Justin asked, wanting to make sure they had an ironclad bargain that Brian couldn’t get out of.

 

“Sure.”

 

“And you’ll be here?”

 

“This better be good.  All right, I’ll be here.  I was hoping you might not ask that.”

 

“Just try it.  You might like it.”

“I doubt it.  Come on, I want my incentive.  Now!”

“Slave driver!” Justin retorted.

 

“Who’s the slave, me or you?”

 

“Umm,” Justin replied.  Brian could see the wheels turning.

 

“What are you planning?”

 

“I think you’d make a great slave,” Justin said, grinning.

 

“So would you!” Brian responded.

 

“I said it first.  Are you going to be a good slave or do I have to beat you?”

 

“Kinky,” Brian grinned.

 

“It could be fun, if you assume your subservient role.”

 

“I don’t think I’d be any good at that.”

 

“You never know.  You might like it.”

 

“Okay.  I’ll play.”

 

“Good little slave!  On your knees!”

 

“Yes, master,” and Brian dropped to his knees in front of Justin.

 

“Don’t move!” Justin ordered.

 

“Yes, master.”

 

Justin smiled and leaned over to give Brian a brief kiss of encouragement.  He felt Brian open his mouth and duel with his tongue.  Brian’s hand reached up to grab his bottom.

 

Justin stepped back and slapped Brian’s hand.

 

“I said not to move!” he said sharply.

 

“Sorry, master, but you’re so tempting.”  Brian tried to look contrite and seductive at the same time.

 

Justin suppressed a giggle.  “Stay absolutely still,” he ordered.  “I’m going to have my way with you, and you will do only what I tell you and exactly as I tell you.  Do you understand?”

 

“Yes, master.”

 

“Good,” Justin said, walking around behind Brian.

 

He saw Brian’s head turn slightly to see what he was doing.  “Don’t move, I said!”

 

Brian’s head snapped back in place.

 

Justin smiled.  He leaned on Brian’s shoulders and licked his ear.  When he blew in it, Brian groaned, but didn’t move.  He reached down and pulled Brian’s T-shirt over his head.  He tossed it aside.  Brian stayed still.  Justin ran his hands along Brian’s bare shoulders and down his arms.  He felt the flesh ripple in response.  He reached around to Brian’s chest and squeezed his breasts.  He tweaked each nipple.

 

“Umm,” Brian moaned, but didn’t move.

 

“Stand up,” Justin ordered.

 

Brian stood with his back still to Justin.  The boy ran his hands down Brian’s back and stopped at his ass.  He gave each cheek a squeeze.  He walked around to face his lover.  He ran his hands across Brian’s chest, and then his thumb traced the outline of Brian’s luscious lips.  He slipped a finger into that soft, warm mouth, and Brian sucked it eagerly.

 

Justin could see the bulge in Brian’s jeans.  He unzipped them and slowly slid them down Brian’s legs.  His hard-on sprang free and Justin kissed the tip as it bounced in front of him.  Brian groaned again, and Justin pushed the jeans to the floor.

 

“Step out,” he said.

 

Brian stepped back, free from the pants.  Justin tossed them on the couch.  Brian stood totally naked in front of his master.

 

“Impressive,” said Justin, surveying his slave.

 

Brian smiled.

 

Justin reached out and grabbed Brian’s cock.  He ran his thumb over the slit, and felt Brian shiver.

 

“Come with me,” he ordered, keeping hold of Brian’s cock and leading him by it to the bedroom.  “Lay down,” he said, pointing to the bed.  Brian did as he was told.  Justin knelt next to him and took his cock into his mouth.  He sucked gently on the tip, then buried his face in Brian’s pubic hair.  He loved the smell of this man.  His fingers squeezed Brian’s balls and the man gasped.  His cock dripped precum, and Justin noted the lust in Brian’s eyes.

 

He licked up one side of Brian’s cock and down the other, coating it with saliva.  He ran his tongue around the cap and took it into his mouth, sucking only the tip.  He felt Brian shiver.  He placed his hand around the base and deep-throated the entire shaft.  He held it there in his mouth while his other hand continued to play with Brian’s balls.  He felt the man squirm.

 

Justin released Brian’s cock, and commanded, “Stay still, or I’ll have to punish you!”

 

“Yes, master,” Brian gasped.

 

Justin smiled and started working Brian’s shaft.  He would suck it in, twist and turn his head around the delicious rod, suction the cap, then spit it out, dripping with saliva and precum.  He felt Brian tense up, and stopped, sensing Brian was too close to coming.

 

“Don’t come until I tell you you can,” he ordered.

 

Brian looked at him somewhat desperately.

 

“I’m waiting for the correct response,” he said sternly.

 

“Yes, master,” Brian whispered, closing his eyes and willing himself back in control.

 

“Good slave,” Justin said, kissing him.  He licked Brian’s lips and the inside of his mouth, knowing Brian could taste himself on Justin’s tongue.  He licked Brian’s ear and down his throat to the tender spot near his shoulder.  He nipped there and heard Brian moan.  He continued down, sucking on each nipple until they stood hard and wet.  His tongue traced a line down Brian’s stomach, around and into his navel, and finally back to his cock.  As his mouth enveloped Brian’s dick, he felt the man involuntarily push up.

 

“Bad slave!  You’ll have to be punished!”

 

Justin got up.  He positioned some pillows against the wall and sat against them on the bed.  He was still fully clothed. 

 

“Slave,” Justin said.

 

“Yes, master,” Brian answered, not moving.

 

“Come here and lie across my lap.”

Brian sat up and looked at Justin.  He knew he was going to get a spanking, but just then he didn’t think that would be such a bad thing.  He smiled. 

 

Justin saw the smile and decided what he would do.  As Brian laid across his lap, he opened his legs and made sure he caught Brian’s dick between them.  Then he closed his legs, effectively trapping Brian’s cock in his crotch.  He heard Brian’s gasp, and smiled.

 

Brian loved the sensation.  Justin’s jeans were just rough enough to be a turn-on, and warm enough to be almost like being inside Justin’s hole.  He had an overwhelming urge to start pumping, but he bit his lip and stayed still.  He savored the sensation, when suddenly he received a not too gentle smack on one buttock.

 

“Ow,” he said.

 

“Quiet, and take your punishment like a man,” Justin commanded.  He gave Brian three more good smacks, two for each cheek.

 

Brian felt the warmth spread across his ass, up his back and mostly to his groin.  He moaned, barely able to contain himself.

 

“I didn’t hit you too hard, did I?” Justin asked, concerned.

 

“No master, but you’re driving me crazy,” the slave replied.

 

“Good,” said Justin, regaining his composure.

 

He looked at Brian’s reddening ass and leaned over to kiss it and lick the reddest marks.  Brian thought he was going to self-combust.  The feel of Justin’s cool tongue and lips on the red hot areas of his ass was indescribable.  His cock was still between Justin’s legs, and as Justin bent over to kiss his sore bum, he squeezed Brian’s rigid shaft even more.

 

“God, Justin, I’m going to explode!” Brian cried.

 

Justin backed off.  “Not yet,” he ordered, releasing his grip on Brian’s cock.  He felt Brian relax a little, and breathe more normally.

 

“Lie on your stomach and close your eyes.”

 

Brian shifted off him, doing as he was told.

 

Justin quickly got rid of his clothes.  He straddled Brian’s legs and started to rim him.  His talented tongue darted in and out of Brian’s hole.  He felt Brian push back, but didn’t have the heart to punish him anymore.  His own cock was fully engorged, and he wanted nothing more that to fuck Brian’s brains out.  He wasn’t sure how much control he had left.  He had to give credit to Brian.  He had taken everything Justin had done to him like a good, obedient slave.

 

“Want me to fuck you, slave?” Justin whispered in Brian’s ear.

 

“Yes, master,” was the response.

 

“On your knees,” Justin ordered, as he slipped on a condom and lube.  Brian’s hole spasmed as he got in position.

 

“Ready?” Justin asked.

 

“Yes, master.  Do me!”  Brian’s voice was husky with need.

 

Justin laughed and pressed in.  Brian was always so tight.  He stopped part way in and waited for Brian to relax a bit, then he plunged in to the hilt.  Brian’s head flew up and he growled the most sensual, thundering, throaty sound Justin had ever heard.

 

“Like that, slave?” Justin asked, staying still.

 

“Oh, yes, master!”

 

Justin began a slow in and out motion.  He didn’t think either of them would last very long.  The foreplay had been too intense.

 

“You have my permission to come, when you’re ready,” Justin told Brian.  “Let’s come at the same time.”

 

“Thank you, master,” Brian said, deciding to make Justin pay a little for what he had done to him.  “I’ll tell you when I’m ready.”

 

Justin began to pound against Brian’s ass, his strokes becoming deeper and faster.

 

“Ready?” Justin asked, feeling his orgasm building.

 

“Not yet,” Brian gasped, struggling for control.

 

Justin continued his rhythm, not knowing how much longer he could keep this up.  He was sure Brian must need to come soon.

 

Brian wasn’t ready to give in.  His cock ached and throbbed.  He wanted to grab it and find blissful release, but he fought that urge.  The slave would become the master.

 

“Now?” Justin asked, urgency in his voice.

 

“Not yet,” Brian said, hearing the need in Justin’s voice.  “You’re going to lose it soon, my little master,” he thought.

 

Justin decided to up the pressure.  He pushed Brian’s head down and raised his ass, making sure to hit his prostate with each stroke.

 

“Ahhh!” Brian groaned.

 

“Ready now?” Justin panted.

 

“Not yet, master.”  Brian gritted his teeth, holding on.

 

“He’s punishing me,” Justin thought.  He rammed in fully and leaned over Brian’s back.  He could feel their combined sweat pooled on Brian’s back.  He entwined his fingers with Brian’s and whispered in his ear, “Just think of all the creative things I can do with Thanksgiving gravy and pumpkin pie and whipped cream.”  With each food item he thrust deeply into Brian’s ass.  On ‘whipped cream’ Brian shuddered and shouted, “Now!!!”  He and Justin came in a blinding orgasm that left them both senseless.

 

Minutes later, neither knew how long, Justin rolled off Brian’s back.  “Are you all right?” he gasped.

 

Brian groaned, “Are we dead?”

 

“Maybe.”

 

“I can’t move.”

 

“You’re not my slave anymore.  You can move if you want.”

 

“No, I can’t.  It’s physically impossible.”

 

Justin giggled.  “Come on, old man.  I’ll help you.”  He rolled Brian over onto his back and snuggled up against his chest.  “I thought you would never come,” Justin admitted.

 

“I did my best not to, until the whipped cream comment.”

 

“I was desperate.”

 

“Mind games,” Brian sneered.

 

“The mind is mightier than the rod,” Justin proclaimed.

 

Brian laughed.  “Yeah.  You just proved that.”

 

“So I can have the Thanksgiving dinner with all the gang, and you’ll be there on your best behavior?”

 

“I never said anything about my behavior.”

 

“But you’ll be there?”

 

“Yes, master.”

 

Justin smiled and kissed him.  “I love you.”

 

“Not any time soon, I hope.”

 

“I could go again,” Justin challenged.

 

“Could not!”

 

“Could so!”

 

“Save it for later.  I need some rest.”

 

“As a matter of fact, so do I.  Let’s sleep.”

 

“Your wish is my command, master,” Brian agreed, closing his eyes, relieved that Justin didn’t want to go again.

 

“I could get used to this master/slave thing,” Justin said, yawning.

 

“Next time you’re the slave,” Brian stated, snuggling against Justin.

 

“Deal,” Justin said, drifting off to sleep.

 

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Justin spent the next week organizing his dinner.  He called everyone and they all agreed to come.  Almost everyone had some rude comment like “Does Brian know about this?” or “Is this a joke?” or “Will Brian be there?”.  Justin gave his assurances to each of them.  He refused to allow anyone to bring anything, wanting to do this all himself.  He made his list of what he needed and forced Brian to go shopping with him, mainly to help carry things.

 

As they pulled into the grocery store lot, Brian saw a store selling Thanksgiving hams, all cooked and sliced, just needing to be reheated.

 

“Let’s do that,” Brian said.  “It’ll be easier.”

 

“No, I want a turkey,” Justin said.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes. It’s tradition.”

 

“Okay,” Brian gave in.

 

They bought everything they needed.  The store was packed, it being only two days before Thanksgiving.  They found a beautiful twenty pound frozen turkey.  Justin bought potatoes, yams, broccoli, carrots and cranberry sauce.  He had asked his mother for her pumpkin pie recipe and was determined to make his own pies.  He had a list of all the ingredients he needed.  They had to buy everything, because Brian had so few supplies in the kitchen.  Brian convinced him to buy frozen pie shells, remembering the concrete crusts of his mother’s pies.  Pies weren’t her thing.  Cakes were.

 

Loaded down, they returned to the loft.  It took two trips, with each of them carrying as much as they could, to get all of the food up to the loft.  Justin stowed everything away, putting the turkey in the fridge to thaw, and smiling to himself as he put away the three containers of whipped cream.

 

Brian had brought a folding table and chairs from work.  It was only Tuesday night, but Justin wanted to set it up and make sure they had enough spaces for everyone.  They had bought a new table cloth and napkins to fit the larger table.  Brian’s china had service for twelve, and they set it all out.

 

Justin stopped all of a sudden and gasped, “Oh, my God, Brian!”

 

“What?  What’s wrong?”

 

“With Gus, we have thirteen for dinner!”

 

“So,” Brian said, “Gus doesn’t need the same plates as everyone else.  He’ll be in his high chair.”

 

“That’s not what I mean.  Thirteen!  The Last Supper!  Bad luck!”

 

“Don’t be silly!  You don’t believe that nonsense, do you?”

 

“I guess not,” Justin said, still worried.

 

“Gus hardly counts as thirteen.  More like twelve and a half,” Brian said, trying to reassure him.  “It’ll be fine.”

 

“Maybe,” Justin conceded.

 

Brian pulled Justin into a hug and kissed him gently.  “Your dinner’s going to be wonderful.  Don’t worry.”

 

“I hope so,” Justin said, returning Brian’s kiss.

 

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Brian went to work on Wednesday, while Justin stayed home to make his pies.  When Brian arrived home around 6 pm, the loft smelled delicious.

 

“Smells great in here,” he said, taking off his jacket.

 

“Thanks,” said Justin.  “The pies turned out great.”

 

“Can we have some now?” Brian asked.

 

“No, they’re for tomorrow,” he said definitely.

 

“What’s for dinner?” Brian asked.

 

“Take-out?  I was too busy,” Justin apologized.

 

“I’ll order Thai,” Brian said.

 

“Thanks.”

 

Brian made the call, changed his clothes and opened a bottle of wine.  They sat on the couch, nursing their wine, while they waited for dinner to arrive.

 

“Is all of this fuss going to be worth it?” Brian had to ask.

 

“Of course.  It’s going to be great.”

 

Brian shook his head, but didn’t want to rain on Justin’s parade, so he said no more.

 

They ate at the coffee table, talking about the dinner arrangements and sipping their wine.  Brian was pleased to see Justin so happy.  It would be worth the disruption and bother, if his boy was happy and satisfied.

 

He reached over and rubbed the back of Justin’s neck, as Justin ate on the floor in front of him.  He felt Justin lean back against his leg.  Justin looked up at him and smiled his sunshine smile.  Brian leaned over and kissed him, getting some of his Thai noodles along with the kiss.

 

“Yum,” he said, probing deeper.

 

Justin pulled away.  “Hey, feed yourself,” he giggled.

 

“I like it pre-chewed,” Brian retorted, sucking on his lip.

 

“Gross,” Justin said.  “What are you, a baby bird?”

 

“Big Bird!”

 

Justin snorted and choked on his noodles.  “Yeah.  Big, all right!  Hey, I wonder if the turkey’s thawed yet,” he said.

 

“Why don’t you check it?  It will take all day to cook, it’s so big,” Brian said.

 

Justin got up and went to the fridge.

 

“Oh, no!” Brian heard him say.

 

“What’s wrong?”  Brian asked.

 

“It hasn’t even started to thaw, Brian.  It’s hard as a rock!”

 

“Really?  Let’s see.”  Brian came over and tapped the bird.  It was solid ice, no give at all.  Justin groaned, and looked ready to cry.

 

“What does it say about defrosting?” Brian asked.

 

They read the fine print which gave a ratio of pounds to hours in the fridge to thaw. 

 

“I’m not great at math, but I think this will be thawed out next Tuesday,” Brian said, chuckling.

 

“How can you laugh?  What am I going to do?”  Justin was frantic.

 

“It says you can thaw it in cold water,” Brian said, continuing to read.

 

“How long?” Justin asked.

 

“Saturday,” Brian calculated.

 

“Shit,” Justin groaned.

 

“What about hot water?” Brian offered.

 

“Oh, sure!  Then we can kill our guests with salmonella!”

 

Brian smiled wickedly.

 

“Don’t you dare think like that!” Justin demanded.  “Or laugh!”

 

Brian fought back the laugh bubbling up inside him.

 

“Could we get a fresh one somewhere?” Justin asked.

 

Brian looked at Justin’s watch.  “It’s 8:30.  The stores will be closing soon.  Stick that in the fridge, and let’s go see,” Brian suggested, taking pity on the boy.

 

In the Jeep, Justin kept saying, “Hurry!”  as they sped toward the market.  They raced into the store to find an empty freezer where the turkeys had been.  They went to the meat counter and the butcher came over.

 

“Do you have any fresh turkeys?” Brian asked.

 

“Sorry, but you have to order fresh ones,” the butcher said.

 

“We have a frozen one, but we’ll never get it thawed by tomorrow,” Brian explained.

 

“How big?” the butcher asked.

 

“Twenty pounds.”

 

“Is it still totally frozen?”

 

“Yeah, is there anything we can do?”

 

“Not much,” he said, shaking his head, and turning away.

 

“Thanks a heap!” Brian said sarcastically.  “We’re screwed!” he said to Justin.

 

The look on Justin’s face drew him up short.

 

“Come on, Sunshine.  It’ll be all right.  We’ll think of something.”

 

He took Justin’s hand, and pulled him along out of the store.  It was ten to nine.  Everything would be closed in a few minutes.  Justin seemed to be in a state of shock.  As Brian headed them to the Jeep, he saw the Honey Baked Ham store, and a light went on.  It wasn’t a turkey, but they would be able to feed their guests.  He dragged Justin along, as he ran to the store.  The salesclerk was cleaning up, getting ready to close.

 

“Do you have a ham big enough for twelve people?” Brian asked.

 

“Sure,” the girl said, giving them the once over.

 

“What do you have to do to cook them?” Brian asked.

 

“Just reheat, a few hours.  Here’s the instruction booklet with a recipe for a glaze to put on the ham.”  The clerk handed him a little pamphlet.

 

“I’ll take one,” Brian said.

 

“For twelve?” she repeated.  Brian nodded.  She took a whopper hunk of meat from a fridge and set it on the counter.  “It’s spiral cut, so you just have to slice through this way,” she said, demonstrating where to cut.

 

“Great,” said Brian.

 

“That’s one twelve,” she said, ringing it up.

 

“One hundred and twelve dollars?” Brian asked, not believing his ears.

 

“It’s a big ham,” she said.

 

“Sure,” Brian said, handing her his credit card.  “Must be coated in fucking gold,” he mumbled to himself.

 

She gave him the evil eye.  Brian signed the credit card slip, grabbed the ham and pulled Justin along to the Jeep.  Justin hadn’t said a word.

 

They got in the Jeep, the ham safely stowed in the back seat.  Brian headed to the loft.  Justin still hadn’t spoken.

 

“At least we can feed everybody,” Brian said, trying to cheer him up.

 

“I wanted a turkey,” Justin sniffled.

 

“Well, you’ve got a fucking one hundred and twelve dollar ham, and you’re going to enjoy it!  Do you hear me?”

 

“Yes, Brian.”  Justin took a deep breath.  “Thanks.”

 

“It’ll be fine, Sunshine.”

 

“Yeah, you’re right.  I’m being stupid.  Thanks for saving the day.”

 

“No problem.  I just went into Rage mode.”

 

Justin laughed.  “It’s nice to have my own superhero to clean up my catastrophes.”

 

“Anytime,” Brian grinned.

 

When they got to the loft, Brian put the ham in the fridge and gave Justin the pamphlet of instructions.  Justin went over to the couch and started reading.

 

Brian joined him.  “You can read that tomorrow,” Brian said, nuzzling Justin’s neck and squeezing his crotch.

 

“Stop!  I don’t want any more bad surprises.  I want to make sure I know what to do with this ham.”  He continued to read.

 

Brian slid away from him and turned on the TV.  After a few minutes Justin set the pamphlet down and smiled.

 

“I can do that.  I think I have everything to make the glaze too.  It has a lot of the same things I used in the pies.”

 

“Whoopee shit!” Brian said sarcastically.

 

Justin leaned across Brian’s body, pushing Brian over, and making sure their crotches rubbed together.  Brian feigned disinterest, being pissed at Justin’s brush-off a few minutes earlier.  Justin continued to rub and kiss.  He could feel that he was having the desired effect.

 

“Are you going to let me thank you?” Justin cooed.

 

“I guess,” Brian gave in, “but this fucking dinner better be over soon.  It’s giving me a huge headache.”

 

“We can do something to relieve the stress,” Justin said, unzipping Brian’s pants.

 

A little while later Brian’s headache was gone and he had forgotten all about the dinner.

 

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Thanksgiving Day dawned bright and cold.  Justin was up early preparing the vegetables.  Brian decided to help, and sat at the counter peeling carrots and chopping them.  He watched Justin who hummed a little non-descript tune as he worked.  He gave Justin a hard time, but he loved doing little things like this with his boy.  It felt like the family he had never had.

 

“I love you, you know,” Brian said.

 

“I know.  I love you too.”  Brian saw the sunshine smile that he loved light up Justin’s face.  “Who else would pay for a $112 ham to fix my mess?”

 

“You’re worth it,” Brian said.

 

Justin’s smile got even bigger.  “Keep chopping, you sweet talker, you!”

 

Brian chuckled.  They had come a long way in communicating.  Brian thought, “I can tell him I love him, and mean it.  I even kind of know what it means.”  Brian smiled to himself.

 

“What are you smiling about?” Justin asked.

 

“I was thinking that we do have some things to be thankful for today,” Brian said seriously.

 

“Yeah, we do,” Justin agreed.  “See you’re getting into the spirit of this day.”

 

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”

 

Justin stuck his tongue out at him, and Brian laughed.

 

Dinner was to be at 4 pm, so Gus could be part of it, but still get to bed in good time.  Everyone started arriving around three.  The loft smelled wonderful, a lovely fragrance of the ham wafting from the oven.  All of the vegetables were ready to be turned on in a little while.  The table looked great.  Justin had collected some fallen leaves and spread them over the table to give a fall effect.  Everyone complimented him on how great the place looked and smelled.

 

Brian served beer and wine, and played the perfect host.  Everybody seemed happy and relaxed, even Brian.

 

When they finally sat down to the meal, they were in high spirits.  Everyone proclaimed the ham to be delicious.  Justin accepted the compliments, but gave Brian a wink.  Gus was on his best behavior.  Brian fed him pieces of ham and carrot and dollops of mashed potato.  They all talked and joked.

 

“This was a great idea, Justin,” Emmett commented.  “The loft’s a great place for a party.  Lots of room.”

 

“Depends on the party,” Michael noted.

 

Everyone looked at him, remembering his birthday party.

 

“What?” Ben asked.  “Is this a party I should know about?”

 

So they told him, about Captain Astro, about David, about Michael’s outing to Tracy, about Brian getting punched in the mouth.

 

“Wow, Brian, you do throw quite a bash,” Ben commented.

 

“Somebody already used that line on me,” Brian said, looking at Ted.

 

“It was quite a party,” Ted stated.

 

“And everything turned out for the best,” Michael added, giving Ben a kiss.

 

“Yeah, things have turned out well,” Debbie said.  She got up and gave Brian a kiss on the cheek.

 

“What was that for?” Brian asked, surprised.

 

“For having this dinner, and ... you know.”

 

Brian smiled and kissed her back.  Gus banged on his high chair, wanting out.

 

“Up, Dada,” he said.

 

Brian picked him up and took him over to the window.  Molly followed, watching Brian and Gus.  All three looked out, pointing to buildings and clouds.

 

Justin watched for a minute, then started clearing the dishes for dessert.  Emmett and Lindsay helped, while Debbie cut the pies and Jennifer topped them with whipped cream.

 

“These look good,” Debbie said.

 

“My recipe,” Jennifer noted, “but Justin made them himself.  It’ll be interesting to see how they taste.”

 

“I bet they’re good.  Justin’s had a lot of practice cooking for Brian.  He learns fast.”

“They seem happy,” Jennifer observed.

 

“Yeah,” Deb agreed.  “Who’d a thunk it?”

 

The pies were a big hit.  Even Brian ate his, whipped cream and all, although he did share with Gus, who loved it too.  When the pie was finished, Vic stood up and proposed a toast.  “To our hosts and chefs, Justin and Brian!”

 

Everyone took their glass or bottle and drank to Brian and Justin’s good health.  Soon after, people started taking their leave.  Gus kissed his Dada and Justin, and went home with his mommies.  The others soon followed suit, all saying they should do this more often.  Brian helped Justin finish cleaning up.  They put the table down and stacked the chairs.  Finally they each took a glass of wine to the couch and collapsed together.

 

“Thank God, that’s over!” Brian said.

 

“It was great!  You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

 

Brian made a face.  “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be.  Everybody seemed to have a good time.”

 

Justin kissed Brian.  “Thanks for bailing me out with the solid gold ham.  It was delicious.”

 

“Money well spent,” Brian acknowledged.

 

“We’ll have lots of leftovers for the weekend.”

 

“Great!” Brian said sarcastically.  “I love leftovers.”

“I’ll make sandwiches for lunch.”

 

“Sure.  Is there any whipped cream left?”

 

“Yes. Why?”

 

“I was thinking about sculpting something, like at Emile’s.”

 

Justin blushed, remembering.

 

“Or we could play slave and master,” Brian suggested.

 

Justin grinned.  “Brian, you didn’t hate today, did you?”

 

“No.  It was fine.  Better than I expected.”

 

“Why don’t you like holidays?”

 

Brian grimaced, and decided to be honest.  “They were just an excuse for my father to get drunk.”

 

“Really?  You never enjoyed Christmas or Thanksgiving?”

 

“Not that I remember.  When my dad got drunk enough, I’d get the shit kicked out of me.  Later when we moved here, I’d escape to Deb’s.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s not your fault.”

 

“But you shouldn’t have had to live through that.”

 

“Water under the bridge.”

 

“Right.  We can make some new traditions.  Happy ones.”

 

“Sure,” said Brian.

 

“We could have that turkey for Christmas,” Justin said hopefully.

 

He heard Brian groan.

 

“Sorry.  I won’t push it.”

 

Brian smiled.  “Now, about that whipped cream.”

 

“Coming right up!”  Justin headed to the refrigerator.

 

Brian watched his delicious backside disappear behind the counter.

 

“I do have something to be really thankful for today,” Brian said, smiling at Justin.

 

“Oh, what?” Justin asked, returning with the container of whipped cream.

 

“I’m very thankful that you have to be the slave this time,” Brian said lasciviously.  He took the whipped cream and motioned Justin to sit down on the couch.  “I’ve been planning this all day.”

 

“Oh,” Justin said, knowing he was in for it now.

 

“Slave,” said Brian.

 

“Yes, master,” Justin replied, and so it began.

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