#and THEN i do nothing until dinner (shoutout to my mom for all the banger meals)

[ghastbutlikegay]

ouhhh the time loop......

[broadstbroskis]

thanksgiving | jeff skinner

a/n: it’s here!!! this is like 4k that i threw together in like a week after i took it as a personal challenge from @blueskrugs after i asked why we don’t write more thanksgiving fics. a huge shoutout to her and @danglesnipecelly, for inspiration and cheering me on for this, as well as literally anyone else who’s cheered me on to finish thing, you’re all the real mvps and i love you all 💚

-----

Jeff shrugs, and from across the table filled with pizza, beer, and a bunch of other things that are most definitely not on his approved list of foods, you stare at him.

“I dunno. I don’t really have plans, I guess? Probably just sit at home, relax a little?” He says. Your jaw drops. He has...he has what now? “You're going to your parent’s right?” You nod slowly, still stuck on the fact that he’s going to sit at home and do nothing on Thanksgiving, the best of all holidays. Not spend the day with some teammates, not make a quick trip to his family, nothing. “That’ll be fun!” Jeff grins, dimples popping. “What are you-”

“You’re doing nothing?” You get out finally, the words coming back to you.

Jeff’s smile falters, but only slightly, and he nods. “Yeah? I mean, there’s no practice, no games. I’ll just…” He trails off for a second and then shrugs. “Rest.”

“You’re not going to go, like, visit your parents? They’re right across the border!”

“It’s a Thursday.” Jeff says patiently and you abruptly remember that his Canadian-ness is the whole point of this conversation.

“Thanksgiving is the best holiday! You can’t sit at home alone on it; I forbid it!” Jeff’s smile grows again as he laughs and you try and fight your own grin as you shove at his shoulders, to no avail. “Come home with me!”

“What?” He laughs again, but this time, it’s more like disbelief.

But the idea is already growing in your mind. “Come home with me! You know my parents love you, they won’t mind at all!”

“I can’t just invite myself to your Thanksgiving!” Jeff protests.

You wave him off. “You’re not, I’m inviting you! Come on, we’d love to have you!” He still looks hesitant, so you add, “Our Thanksgiving is huge anyway; one extra mouth to feed isn’t going to put anyone out, Jeff.”

“Alright.” He caves, and you grin, pulling your phone close to you to text your mom and let her know. “But ask your mom, okay? Like, really ask her, don’t just, like, tell her I’m coming.”

“Too late!” You say cheerfully, showing him the text you’d sent in your family group chat, telling them you were bringing Jeff with you next week. Your mom’s already responded with a string of happy face emojis and your younger sister with a How I Met Your Mother gif about Canadian Thanksgiving. “Be prepared for a lot of Canada jokes!”

“Is that supposed to be different than any other time I see your family?’ Jeff deadpans, but you’re pretty sure he looks like, at least 50% more relaxed, so you count this as a win and ignore him completely, already mentally planning for the best holiday of the year.

-----

The drive back home to your parents takes about an hour longer than you’d like, stuck in the same godawful traffic as everyone else trying to leave Buffalo on Wednesday so that they can get back home in time to go out that night. 

When Jeff finally pulls his car up in front of your childhood home, you can already see that it’s bustling with activity, getting ready for tomorrow. Most of your siblings have already arrived- only your older brother, with his wife and daughters will come in tomorrow, with the rest of your family- but your younger brother and sister have already come home, a fact that’s even more evident when you and Jeff walk in the front door and immediately trip over three pairs of sneakers.

“Liam!” You cry, grabbing onto Jeff so you don’t fall. “Motherfucker, move your shoes!”

Your brother pops his head out of the living room, AirPods in his ears. “I’m on a call!” And just as you're marveling at the fact that your brother is a real person with a real job taking real work calls, said real person with a real job spots Jeff and lights up. “Jeff! Bro! What’s up, man?”

“I thought you were on a call.” You snap at him.

“I’m on mute.” Liam slaps his palm against Jeff’s pulling him in for a ridiculous handshake-bro hug combo, before he finally comes over and lifts you off the floor. “Yo!”

“Yo!” You repeat, honestly unable to believe you’re related to this kid. If the two of you didn’t look exactly alike, you’d probably think he was adopted. “You still coming out tonight?”

“Hell yeah, this is my last call. I’m ready to go.”

You snicker, looking down at his sweatpants and dress shirt combo- he must have taken a video call at some point today. “Yeah, okay, bud.”

He ruffles your hair, in that annoying way he’s been able to do ever since he grew taller than you. “Don’t you worry, I will be.”

You laugh, ducking under his arm, to let him get back to it. You’ve got no doubts about that. Liam’s always ready to party. “Finish your call so we can start pregaming.”

He grins, like you knew he would. “Now we’re talking.” And then he ducks back into your dad’s office.

Jeff is laughing when you look back at him and you give him a look. “What?”

“Nothing, just forgot how the two of you were when you got going.”

“Yup, and you’re stuck with us for next two days!” You grin.

Jeff rolls his eyes at you, but he’s still smiling when he follows you to the kitchen, in search of your mom. She’s at the counter, rolling dough for biscuits, her only other contribution to the annual Thanksgiving dinner that she hosts, besides the turkey; a holiday that she’d taken over hosting once it had become too much for your grandmother to handle, but only on the caveat that everyone began contributing food toward the meal. It’s been a potluck style holiday ever since.

She’s ultra-focused, the volume on her favorite playlist high (this wild mix of 80’s pop and today’s hits that’s actually kind of a banger), so you sneak up behind her and wrap your arms around her. “Hi!”

“Jesus!” Your mom jumps, elbowing you in the process, but you’re laughing too hard to care. “Don’t do that!”

“Just excited to see you!” You beam at her, squeezing her once more, before pulling away. “Where do you want the pie?” Jeff lifts the pie you’d made yesterday, showing your mom.

Your mom purses her lips, studying the kitchen around her. “Leave it on the counter for now; I’ll have your dad clear some space in the garage.” She gestures with her elbow. “Hi Jeff!” 

“Hi!” Jeff pulls out his best smile, a real one, dimples super popped. “Thank you for having me-”

Your mom cuts him off before he can finish, like you knew she would. “Oh, we’re so happy you could make it! You’re welcome anytime, Jeff!” She assures him.

“Is the guest room ready?” You ask. “We’ll throw our stuff upstairs before Dad sees it at the bottom of the steps and has a fit.”

Your mom fights back a laugh at that- a statement that everyone in your family knows all too well-but then looks almost apologetic as she finishes, “It is, but we gave it to Katie.”

“Oh, Katie’s here too?” Your sister’s roommate at college was, at this point, basically another sister to you. She hardly went home for breaks within the semesters, usually came up for at least a month during the summer, and more often than not came home with Abby when she was back for anything. The “guest room” really was more like Katie’s room at this point. 

“Where else would she be?” Abby appears, right on cue, with Katie right behind her, practically matching in leggings and oversized sorority shirts. “It’s Thanksgiving; she’s ready to rage tonight.”

You actually can’t wait for the babies to be hungover tomorrow-both were 21 for their first Thanksgiving Eve and you know they’re going to be in a super rough spot tomorrow-but you keep that thought to yourself. 

“It didn’t even occur to me!” Your mom says apologetically. “I just gave Katie her usual room.”

“No, it’s cool. Jeff and I can share. He doesn’t mind, right?” But you barely even wait for his shrug and nod in agreement. It’s not like you haven’t before, when you’re either too lazy or too drunk to go home. You’re both adults, it’s no big. “I’ve shared a bed with you before; I’ll spare Katie the bruised shins.” You tease your sister.

Katie cracks up as Abby sputters out how rude you are. “It’s a hazard!” Katie agrees, dodging the swat your sister sends towards her. It sets the two of them off, which you take as your cue to grab Jeff’s hand and drag him (and your stuff) up to your room.

Of course, usually when you’re sharing a bed with Jeff, it’s a king sized bed, or at least a queen- definitely not the double that your parents just shoved in your old room to replace the queen bed that had been in there until you moved out and took your furniture with you. You hadn’t realized how small it was though, not until today, until the idea of actually having to share it with someone, with Jeff, who might not be a giant, but isn’t tiny.  “Sorry.” You apologize, almost unsure of what you’re saying.

Jeff shrugs. “Well, at least you don’t kick.” He smiles, as then it’s like everything’s back to normal, that awkward feeling that was growing over you gone as quickly as it came. 

“She’s a bruiser, don’t let her tell you otherwise.” You throw your bag down, rifling through it for the sweater you were planning to wear tomorrow, to hang it up so it isn’t too wrinkled.

Jeff laughs. “I’ll take your word for it.” He’s holding up his shirt, a button down and a tie. “Where can I hang this?”

“You can’t wear that!”

He frowns, likely at the vehemence you’d just spoken that with. “Uhh, why not?”

“You’ll get roasted.” Seriously, you’d told him it wasn’t a dressy affair. God, what part of not dressy does he think requires a tie? “Don’t you have, like, a sweater?”

“I mean, yeah, but-”

“Sweater and jeans, that’s fine.”

Jeff gives you a look. “That doesn’t seem-”

“Sweater. And jeans.” You repeat. He’ll thank you tomorrow, when your uncle doesn’t ask him when tea is. When your cousin doesn’t talk to him only in a fake British accent for the entire night. 

Jeff hands over a sweater, a soft thing you’ve seen him wear on many occasions, and you smile your thanks at him, hanging it up next to yours. “Meet your standards?” He asks; you think he’s aiming for teasing but he kind of misses the mark, sounding a little more nervous than joking.

“Perfect.” He smiles back at you and you laugh. “Come on, you dork. Let’s go see what’s for dinner tonight.”

-----

“Don’t wake me up when you come in tonight!” Your dad calls, as he drops the five of you off at Mel’s, the bar for Thanksgiving Eve. Your friends are already at the bar, you’re anticipating a high school reunion for sure, and you’ve warned Jeff of this, even though he assured you that he could handle it, and he was just excited for a nice, chill night.

You’d actually laughed out loud at that. Oh Jeffrey. 

“Pshh.” Liam waves your dad off. “I haven’t done that since I was like 16 and still having to sneak out.”

Your dad gives him a look. “I was talking to your sister.” He looks over at Abby, who ignores him completely, in favor of taking a SnapChat with Katie, and he sighs resolutely. You all absolutely know she isn’t listening to a word he says. “Have fun, be safe. Uber home.”

Liam salutes him. “Will do.”

Inside the bar, the night starts exactly as you and Liam have started your last few Thanksgiving Eve’s-with a round of shots at the bar as you’re ordering drinks, before splitting off to find your respective friends to start the evening.

Jeff fits in with your friends fantastically, laughing and joking around with them like he’s known them forever, even though you’re sure the only one he’s met is your oldest friend, Ashley. But he greets Ashley and her husband, Brian, like old friends, and quickly joins conversations with all your other friends, and soon hours have passed before your brother is sliding up behind you. “Heads up.” Liam mutters as he passes. “Douche at 3 o’clock.”

You tense as it takes everything in you not to turn and look over. “Hey.” Jeff nudges you, concern clear in his eyes as he looks at you, and you’re not sure what he pulled himself away from, but you must look pretty bad. “You okay?”

You nod, kinda spacily, but leaning in closer to him, and he takes the cue to curl in toward you- you’re not really interested in shouting to the entire bar and you’re really not interested in drawing attention to yourself. “Yeah, just- my ex is over there.”

Jeff purses his lips for a minute and then schools his face back to neutral. “I take it things didn’t end well.”

“No.” You say, thinking of the demise of your relationship with Dylan. “It did not.”

You hadn’t even realized that Jeff grabbed your hand until he’s squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You shake your head. “It was...definitely for the best.” It might have taken you a while to see that, but you can now, even if the rare instances you still see Dylan sometimes rattles you. “I thought I was going to marry him, at one point, but I’m so much happier here now.”

Jeff smiles. “Good.”

You squeeze his hand once more, a thanks for his comfort and care, before both of you rejoin the conversation, and you forget about Dylan entirely for the next hour, until you physically run into him coming back from the bar with another round of drinks for you and Jeff.

“Hey!” Dylan beams at you, goes right in for a cheek kiss, like you’re still that familiar, and once again you stiffen up.

“Hi.” You return politely, ready to sidestep around him and return to Jeff and your friends.

“No, wait.” Dylan steps with you, blocking your path. “I haven’t seen you in forever. Let’s catch up a minute, what’s new?”

“No offense, Dylan, but I’m not really looking to catch up with you.” You say flatly.

He opens his mouth to respond, but before he can another voice cuts in. “Everything okay here?” Jeff asks politely, stepping very purposefully next to you, and Dylan’s eyes immediately fly over to him.

“Mhmm,” You nod. “Was just on my way back to you.”

“Good.” Jeff says, in a tone far more harsh than you usually hear him take. “Let’s get back.” He positions himself again, clearing a space for you to easily slip past Dylan, and then steps closely behind you, catching up quickly.

“Thanks.” You lean against him, gently, not looking to spill either of your drinks, but Jeff solves that problem by taking his.

“Any time.” Jeff says softly and you don’t have much else to say on the matter so you just nudge him once more in thanks and walk back toward your friends with him at your side.

-----

When you wake up the next morning, you’re warm and comfortable and only a little hungover, which you count as a huge success. There’s not too much noise going on downstairs yet, which means you definitely have some more time to sleep, so you curl back into your pillow, humming contently when it pulls you in closer.

And then your eyes pop open abruptly, because pillows don’t do that.

Except they do when they look like Jeff Skinner, who looks just as soft and warm and comfortable as you feel right now, still sleeping judging by the evenness of his breath. 

It’s just...it’s a really nice way to wake up, with Jeff’s kind-of smiling face, looking super soft and cozy as he breathes just on the wrong side of too loud, but not so loudly that it drives you nuts. 

It’s a little too early to unpack that, and your hangover might not be that bad but it’s definitely bad enough that you’re not ready to think on that, so you close your eyes and let yourself curl into Jeff and fall back asleep.

-----

When you do finally get out of bed, Thanksgiving morning is its usual chaos, running around with last minute errands, cleaning, and helping your mom in the kitchen. The last to shower for the day, by the time you arrive downstairs, the Lions vs. Bears game is well underway, your notoriously early grandparents have already arrived, and your grandmother is already asking your mom where that one turkey decoration she bought her one year is.

You bypass the kitchen entirely and move toward the living room, where you find your dad, grandfather, Jeff, and siblings all gathered, just as you’d expected. You slide down on the floor next to Jeff, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before more of your family arrives and you’re offering your set up anyway, and wait for the next round of chaos to begin.

It doesn’t take long. Your aunts, uncles, and cousins start pouring in and then it’s just introduction after introduction, as you wrap up showing off Jeff to one group just as the next arrives. You are absolutely confident he has no idea who anyone is, but it’s fine, because he’s still laughing and joking around with all your uncles and cousins that have joined you in watching football. 

The kitchen is its own brand of chaos, when you make a quick stop in on your back from a beer run, but chaos has never stopped your aunt before and it certainly isn’t today. “Oh my god!” She exclaims, after you’ve pressed a smacking kiss to the top of your grandmom’s head. “That boy!”

“What boy?” You ask, like an idiot, which is immediately clear from the looks you get from everyone in the kitchen, even your usually oblivious uncle, who’s doing...something...with the ham they’d brought. “Who, Jeff?”

“Yes.” Another aunt stresses. “He’s cute!”

You shrug. “Yeah, I mean-”

But your grandmom cuts you off this time. “And so friendly! Just the nicest boy! Oh, you couldn’t have found anyone better!” She exclaims.

“Well, I haven’t.” You announce, watching all of their faces fall. “So sorry to burst that bubble.”

“Why?” One of your older cousins frowns. “Girl. Get on that. You are not going to do better than that boy in there.”

“I truly don’t know if that was meant to be a dig at me or you all think that highly of Jeff already, but regardless. We are just friends.” Now everyone in the kitchen is giving you a look. You gather the beers and retreat, distributing them as you return to your spot on the floor near Jeff.

He’s giving you a look as you pass him his, but whatever’s on your face must not be too bad, because he just thanks you as you pass him the bottle, and you nod in return as you try to find the same comfortable spot as before, leaning against his thigh.

-----

Your dad catches you a bit later, as he’s coming back with beers this time and you’re coming out of the bathroom, and he nudges you carefully as you take a few bottles from his hand. “So Jeff?”

You groan. The tone of that statement was far too loaded. “Jesus, you too?”

Your dad laughs. “Who else?”

“Everyone.”

“Well maybe that should be your hint.” Your dad says teasingly, but also not? There’s definitely some seriousness to this. “That Jeff’s pretty perfect for you.”

You stare at him. “You’ve met Jeff, like, a hundred times. Why’s this coming out now?”

“I always thought you were my smart kid and that you’d figure it out yourself.” He muses. “Now I realize you’re only book-smart and you’d never figure this out on your own.” And then he leaves you there in the hallway, with your jaw dropped and too many thoughts, as he continues on, laughing at you.

-----

When the call to come serve yourselves echoes into the room, the usual mad scramble follows immediately. It’s only as you’re getting into line behind your brother that you realize that Jeff’s not with you anymore, and you abandon the long line waiting for food, in favor of seeking out Jeff.

You find Jeff upstairs, in your room, just kind of lounging on your bed, and you lean against the doorway. “Hey! Food’s ready.”

“Yeah.” Jeff nods, the smile he sends you back in return far too tight and forced to be genuine. “Be right down.”

But he doesn’t move, so you step in and climb into your bed next to him. “What’s wrong?”

Jeff laughs; it’s kind of hollow and doesn’t sound anything like his usual loud laugh or his giggles that you love. “What- nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Jeff.” You say softly. “Come on.”

He sighs. “Why did you bring me here?”

That...was not at all what you expected. “What?”

“Why did you bring me here?” He repeats. “Why did you bring me home, to your family? I thought, maybe, finally…” He trails off for a minute. “Except, there’s like ten other randos here too!” He laughs again, that hollow thing that you’re already hating. “Everybody in this family just brings people home, and that’s awesome, okay? Please don’t ever change that about yourself. I just-I thought we had something special, is all.” He says, sounding almost sad? Melancholy? 

“You are special.” You hate this. Jeff should never be sad; he should always be happy and smiling and joking. This is worse than seeing him after losses, worse than seeing him at low points in the season, that one game when he realizes that shit’s done and they’re just playing to keep playing now, that playoffs won’t be coming this year, again. “Jeff, you’re-”

“I’m in love with you.” Jeff says and it’s so straight-up, matter-of-fact, like it’s never not been a fact for him. “And I’m sorry I’ve fucked things up here for tonight and made this so awkward. I just- being here with you and your family just made me want you that much more.”

There’s so so so much you want to say to Jeff, but it’s like time is frozen. You can’t speak, can’t move, can’t do anything except look at him in awe, until he starts to move off your bed, when you reach for him, finally, resting your hand on his thigh, relieved when he looks back at you. “My dad thinks I’m an idiot.” You blurt out and Jeff just gives you a look. “I’m sorry; that wasn’t what I wanted to say.” You take a deep breath, trying to gather the jumble of thoughts in your head. “Or at least, not the only thing. He thinks I’m an idiot because he thinks you’re perfect for me and I didn’t see it. My whole family thinks you’re perfect- cute and friendly and nice- and god, Jeff, you are! You’re all those things!” He’s still watching you, with like, barely the smallest hint of a smile on his face. “I just-didn’t realize you were perfect for me until we came here.”

Now he’s full on beaming, dimples showing, and you don’t even realize that you’re returning the grin until his hand comes up to your face, thumbing at the corner of your lip. “I’m sorry I’m a dumbass.” You finish lamely, too busy smiling at Jeff. “Please kiss me so we can make sure we get biscuits.”

Jeff hums. “I don’t know if I can kiss you now and just...stop.”

“Well I’m not going down to eat until you do.” You say stubbornly. “And you’ve been hyping up those biscuits since breakfast.”

“Fair enough.” Jeff laughs and then you’re smiling into the best first kiss you’ve ever had, tangling your hands into his hair and wondering if you may actually end up missing the meal this year.