Forever friends, forever lovers…if only it could be that simple.
“I think I’d like to make dinner–”
“I know, babe, I was just being horny. You can have your wicked way with me while the turkey cooks,” Aspen said, running their lips down Noah’s jaw to his throat, where they placed increasingly filthy kisses.
“Oh, really? Is that the plan?”
It turned out that was indeed the plan. They managed to get the turkey up, prep the rest of the vegetables and sides, which they would cook later in the afternoon, and together, they even made a half-decent chocolate silk pie and put it in the freezer to chill.
“Now, you’re mine,” Aspen said, dragging Noah to the couch.
Aside from the fact that this clearly never would have happened at one of Noah’s family Thanksgivings, there were many other noticeable differences. There were no awkward exchanges in which his mom said the men of the house didn’t have to cook so long as they cleaned up, but then proceeded to drag Noah into the kitchen to spend the day cooking. The TV wasn’t tuned to football, which Noah didn’t mind either way, but there also weren’t any raised voices as his dad and brother got drunker and drunker throughout the day. Aspen had declared they wanted fancy wine with dinner, but thus far they were both sober–at least on alcohol.
“Oh, god,” Aspen slurred, sex drunk after only a few minutes of Noah’s face between their legs.
They were wearing trans tape today, and Noah rested his hand right below their rib cage and pressed down, as he pressed up with his fingers inside them.
“Fuck, babe, yes,” Aspen groaned, thrusting their dick against Noah’s tongue.
A pleasant tingling had started in Noah’s own dick. As he took Aspen in his mouth and sucked, he realized it was his phone vibrating. He ignored it in favor of sliding a third finger inside Aspen.
“You’re so hard and wet for me,” he murmured, blowing a stream of air onto their swollen dick.
“Always,” Aspen gasped, their thighs beginning to quiver as Noah curled his fingers.
His phone vibrated again, and then it began to ring. He stopped thrusting, and Aspen clenched tightly around him. “Don’t stop! I’m so close.”
Eh. If it was important, they would leave a message.
He redoubled his efforts, and by the time the phone stopped ringing and started ringing again, Aspen was shouting into one of the pumpkin throw pillows they’d left on his couch since early October.
“That was exactly what I needed,” Aspen said, as they reached for Noah’s clean hand. He squeezed their fingers before getting up.
“I’m going to wash my hands, and I missed a phone call. I might need to return it,” Noah said.
Aspen snagged him by the wrist, and he paused, looking down at Aspen in all their naked, clearly concerned glory. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” they said, their tone alert and earnest. “You chose to stay here for a reason.”
Noah flipped his hand around to squeeze their fingers, but his phone started ringing a third time, and he knew he had to answer it. He waited until he had the bathroom door shut and the water running to do so.
“Hi, Mom. Sorry, I’m cleaning up from dinner prep,” he said, placing the phone between his cheek and shoulder so he could wash his hands, a little louder than strictly necessary.
“I’m surprised you’re bothering to cook a full meal for yourself,” she said, even though he’d told her several times he would be eating with Aspen tonight.
“It’s not just for–”
“Anyways, that’s not why I’m calling. There’s something we need to talk to you about, and since you insisted on staying there with your friend, we’ll just have to do this over the phone.”
Noah shut off the water and grabbed a hand towel. This was the only room in the house Aspen hadn’t decorated. His bed had a fall-themed throw blanket on it, and Aspen had even put a cornucopia on his desk. He suddenly wanted to be surrounded by signs of Aspen, and this tiny, precious little life they had, even if it was only temporary.
“Okay, I’m all ears,” Noah said as he walked back out to his bedroom. He wrapped the throw blanket around his shoulders and settled in his desk chair.
“There’s no easy way to put this, and this is, of course, for your ears only,” she said. This was how she began all news about Braxton, as if Noah was going to call the town paper himself. He briefly had the urge to ask if that included not telling his trial partner, but clearly, that was a horrific idea.
“I know, Mom, go ahead.”
A soft huff of breath was all he got in response.
Noah sat up straighter in his chair. He’d heard that sigh before. That was the sigh that came before Braxton was sent to rehab after getting caught with cocaine by the high school principal. Of course, the principal was on Dad’s golf team, so Dad got the call instead of the police. That was also the sigh Noah had gotten when he’d shown up at home with short hair, which he’d hacked off at a frat party junior year of college.
