Thanksgiving Fic!

[blossomcup.livejournal.com]

Hey, guys, just in time, here's a FLUFFY Thanksgiving fic! Not for those avoiding cavities!

Name: Thanksgiving

Couples: Drew/Brad, Colin/Ryan, Greg/Jeff

Summary: While at Drew's house, the gang decides to try their hand at making their own Thanksgiving dinner. But not everything goes as planned...

DISCLAIMER: Not mine! Wish they were. A little AU, Wives don't exist. FLUFFY AND SAPPY! You've been warned.

Drew Carey laid the grocery bags on the kitchen island gently, as Brad Sherwood got out some utensils from the cabinet. “I saw the guys’ cars pull up.”

 

“That’s good.” Drew was busy looking at the instructions for the frozen turkey.

 

There was a call of greetings as the other four men entered the kitchen. There were hugs and handshakes all around and Colin dropped a tattered notebook on the counter. “What’s that?”

 

“My Thanksgiving recipes.” He told them, flipping to a page. “What do you need me to do?”

 

“Can you do turkey?”

“Do it every year.” Colin grinned, removing a basting pan from the stack of utensils. Drew started handing bags to the guys. “Okay, let’s do this. We’ll try to salvage this meal.”

“Are you sure this is enough?” Ryan joked. “I mean, we’re going to want to eat too, Drew.”

 

Drew flipped him the bird and tossed an empty paper bag at his head.

 

 

Drew was in charge of the pie and cookies, Greg got the easy job of stuffing, Colin was doing the turkey, Ryan did the potatoes, Brad was in charge of cranberry sauce, gravy, and vegetables, and Jeff was doing the green bean casserole and rolls.

 

Drew rolled the cookie dough into balls and placed them on a greased cookie sheet. “Greg, would you hand me that glass, please?” He reached his hand out.

 

Greg handed it to him with a raised eyebrow. “How does a glass help you make cookies?”

 

“It has a pattern in the bottom.” Everyone turned to see what he would do.

 

Drew pressed the glass down on the ball firmly, then raised it to reveal a pattern on the flattened cookie dough. A murmur of happy assent arose from the group. “Hey, great idea! Where’d you learn that?”

 

Drew continued. “My mother taught me. With my dad gone, we were always the ones to cook dinner. Everytime I would get depressed at school or stuff, she’d make me cookies.” He sighed as the memories took hold. “With things like this, it made me think that sometimes…it wasn’t so bad to be depressed.”

 

He smiled softly and then resumed his old joyful look. “Anyway, how are things over there?”

 

Greg raised a thumbs-up to him and said, “If Ryan’s done with the butter over there, I can continue.”

 

“Drew, why do we have to make so many different kinds of potatoes?” Ryan frowned at his work. “Sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, roasted potatoes…”

 

Brad rolled his eyes. “Don’t get your boxers in a twist. I’ll help ya.” He strolled over and started to peel the sweet potatoes, tossing the butter to Greg. “There ya go, speccy spice.”

 

“Much obliged, monkeyman.” Greg called back.

 

Drew started rummaging through drawers. “Has anyone seen the electric mixer?”

 

Brad handed it to him. “Mixing the pie crust dough?”

 

“Yeah.” Jeff hopped over. “I love doing this! Let me-“

 

“NO! NOT THAT FAST!” Drew cried.

 

 

A few moments later, Greg and Drew had dough all over their glasses. “Great. Just great. Now I have to make more.” Drew sighed.

 

“Sorry.” Jeff said sheepishly. Greg rinsed his glasses in the sink and did the same for Drew’s. Drew thanked him and got out the eggs to make more dough. Jeff slinked away and went back to making rolls.

 

Colin whistled to himself as he checked on the turkey in the oven. “Brad, please hand me that baster…no, that’s a turkey thermometer…no, that’s a whisk…no, that’s a pastry turner! Don’t you know your utensils!” He snapped, getting up and grabbing the baster himself.

 

“There’s no need to snap.” Ryan told him, trying to keep peace.

 

Colin sighed. “You’re right. Sorry, Brad, I always get testy when cooking. No offense.”

 

“None taken.” Brad told him while trying to stick a thermometer down his pants.

 

 

“Okay…” Drew breathed, going to the pantry and coming back with his arms full of cans. “This should be enough.”

 

Greg stared at him. “How many pies are you making?”

 

He shrugged. “The standard stuff. Pumpkin, cherry, apple, two of each. I make extra ones for the shelter downtown.”

 

Greg’s look softened. “Oh, that’s nice. I didn’t know that.”

 

Drew sighed. “Not many people know what it’s like…” He whispered.

 

“Huh?” Colin frowned. “What are you talking about, Drew?”

 

Drew looked up, startled. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

 

Brad put a hand on his lover’s shoulder. “C’mon, you can tell us.”

 

Drew grabbed a can opener. “Alright. But if a tabloid hears, I’ll kill you all.” He began. “Well, when I was a kid, after my dad died, things were tight. Me and my two brothers and my mom sometimes didn’t have anything to eat this time of year. We stayed at a shelter one year from September to Christmas. Some of the kids were younger than me, I was nine. Some were as old as seventeen.” He shook his head. “I take stuff down there because I don’t wanna forget my roots, you know? I know what it’s like to have nothing.”

 

Everyone was staring in silent sympathy. “That’s really nice, Drew.” Jeff told him quietly.

 

Drew nodded. “Well, okay. Now that I’ve said it, we never mention it again. I’m the same guy you knew and…is something burning?”

 

They sniffed the air. “Aw, SHIT!” Ryan yelped, grabbing an oven mitt and running to the smoking oven. “My potatoes! They’re ruined!”

 

“Maybe it’s not too late!” Colin tried to keep calm. “Put them on the counter.”

 

There was a blackened layer on top of the casserole. Colin took a knife and just started slicing it off. “See? It can be saved.”

 

Ryan kissed the side of his head. “You’re a miracle worker.”

 

“Yeah, but my miracles get tiresome after a while.” He muttered, grinning.

 

 

“Okay, we have rolls!” Jeff presented a tray of golden-brown confections with a grin. He placed them in a serving bowl and covered them with a towel. “I’ll help set the table.”

 

He took some plates and started setting them where Brad was doing silverware. “The fork goes on the left.” He told him.

 

“It goes right.”

 

“No, left.”

 

“It’s right, I’ve always had it on the right!”

 

“Left!”

 

“Right!”

 

“LEFT!”

 

“RIGHT!”

 

“For FUCK’S SAKE!” Greg screamed at them. “Put your own fork on the right, Brad! Jeez!”

 

Drew brought out some napkins. “Don’t make us separate you two. Any more outbursts and you’re both cut off.”

 

“We’ll be good.” They replied meekly.

 

 

“Drew, what happened to that gravy I had here?” Colin asked, looking around.

 

Drew frowned. “I don’t know. Hey! Who took my pie?” They heard a scream to their left. Running towards it, they saw Ryan and Greg sitting at the table, the gravy and pie sitting there cooling.

 

“What is it?” Colin asked worriedly.

 

They were gripping each other tightly, eyes wide. “There’s a cockroach under the table, please kill it.” Greg squeaked.

 

Drew burst out laughing. “You guys are such queens.” He flicked his wrist and picked up the cockroach.

 

“EEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWW!” Greg and Ryan squealed. Drew laughed and let it outside. “It’s just a bug! Grow up!”

 

“It was moving!” Ryan whined. Colin sighed. “Hey, there are some furry things that I see moving on a regular basis, you don’t see me running.”

 

Drew nearly choked on his own spit as he tried to contain his laughter. Ryan blushed deeply.

 

Brad came in and set down the sweet potato casserole and green bean casserole. “Okay, we’ve got the rolls, casseroles, sauces, the pies are cooling…we need the turkey, and…Greg, how’s that stuffing going?”

 

They heard Greg let out a loud curse. Jeff came over and directed his hand to under the faucet and ran the cold water. “What happened?” Ryan asked.

 

“Greg accidentally burned himself on the teapot for the hot water.” Jeff said sympathetically, kissing his lover’s hand gently. Greg pouted. “Well, it’s done; I hope you guys are happy.”

 

Colin rolled his eyes. “Yes, your sacrifice enlightens us all.” The oven beeped. “Okay, go get ready, the bird’s about to make its entrance!”

 

 

Soon the table was laid out with all sorts of great food. Drew came up with some glasses and a corkscrew. “Red wine, anyone?”

 

At the raised hands, Drew removed the cork and poured out the glasses. He raised his glass. “To friends.”

 

Greg raised it. “To competence under fire.”

 

Jeff raised it. “To cooperation.”

 

Ryan raised it. “To good intentions.”

 

Colin raised it. “To leading the blind.” Greg snorted.

 

Brad raised it. “To this crazy family.” They smiled and drank.

 

They sat down and began to eat. “Mmmm, this is really good, Jeff.” Colin said approvingly.

 

Jeff made a mock-crying face. “Praise from the master himself!”

 

Drew was eating diligently, gazing at his friends with a huge smile on his face. Brad grabbed his hand under the table. “I guess thanksgiving isn’t that bad after all.”

 

Drew looked at him. “If it’s always like this, I hope we burn meals for the rest of our lives.”

-THE END- Review please!