We stay at the dinner table long after we finish dinner, delving into the seemingly endless supply of desserts, until finally mom gets up and starts clearing the dishes. Dres, suck up that he is, stands to help her.

     "I would offer my services, but it looks like you guys got it," I say, cheekily as I smile. But mom shoots me a glare that forces me to my feet. I reach for my dish and then Amelia's.

     She looks up at me, says playfully, "I'd offer my services, but I can't physically move. Too full." She pats her belly. I fully get that. I need to change into sweatpants ASAP, like yesterday. The button of my jeans is getting ready to perform a cavity search on me.

     I carry as many dishes as I can into the kitchen without threatening the safety of mom's good china. But Dres is standing at the sink, hands deep in some sudsy water with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to the elbows and it nearly upends me.

     "Watch," mom warns as I stumble, the load of dishes juggling unsteadily in my arms.

     I clear my throat, averting my gaze from Dres's forearms because seriously, it's forearms. I need to relax. I need to chill tf out.

     I need to not be in this kitchen. 

     I set the dishes down on the island and start brushing the scraps into the garbage bin. Once they're cleared, I bring them to Dres, who promptly starts putting them into the water.

     "I think dinner went well," he says, voice low even though we're the only two in the kitchen. I'm not sure where mom has wandered off to, but leave it to her to stick with me dish duty. She did do all the cooking, but still.

     "Did you expect it not to?" I ask as I skirt around him so I can take the clean plates out of the drying rack and start towel drying them.

     Dres hands me a fresh plate as he says, "I don't know. Family things can go either way, I guess."

     "Your sister grilled me." My tone is a bit more aggrieved than I actually feel.

     Dres grimaces. "Yeah, uh, she's trying her hand at being the overprotective sibling, I think."

     "I think she's more interested in knowing all the sordid details. She asked me if you were a top or bottom." Even though I know she was only kidding, I bring it up just to get a reaction out of Dres.

     He doesn't react at all. Doesn't even flinch when the words leave my mouth. Instead, he asks, "And what'd you say?"

    So of course I'm the one left sputtering, flushing as I search for words. "I — I."

    Luckily, my mom walks in with my grandmother, saving graces that they are, and I stop whatever jumble of words I was trying to make a coherent sentence of.

     "Well, don't quiet on account of us," grandma says. Mom makes a face that sort of reiterates grandma's words. I grapple for a topic that could've been what Dres and I were talking about. It's unfortunate I'm not good on the spot. I feel like I'm constantly being put on the spot that I need to develop a skill for this.

     "How long are you in town?" Dres asks, saving me, sort of. This is clearly a non-sequitur. "I'd love to show you Private Weston, if we can fit it in before you leave."

     Grandma smiles big, cupping her hands together in a fashion that is almost a bit too groveling for her. "Oooh, I would just love that," she says, sidetracked by Dres's offer. Mom is staring at me, not so easily distracted. It's not like they walked in on Dres and I making out. So we were maybe, maybe not, discussing sex. Like barely discussing sex. Dancing around the concept of sex, which is exactly that. A concept, and not a thing that we are doing. Yet. Yet. I'm working on that part.

     Grandma is saying, "We fly out Sunday morning. Will you be open tomorrow for Black Friday?"

     Dres shakes his head. "How about Saturday?"

     Grandma looks to mom, who nods. "That works," she says as she starts busying herself packing away leftovers. "Can I send some of this food home with you, Dres? I'm packing something separate for your mom and sister."

     Dres stares thoughtfully at the display of food on the island. I grin to myself, knowing he's battling his inner health freak over the fatty, greasy thanksgiving spread. "Sure," he says in a tone I know very well. "That's very nice of you." My mom waves him off like it's nothing.

     "He doesn't want any leftovers, mom," I say stepping away from Dres who turns to glare at me. Mom looks between us like she doesn't know who's answer to go off of.

     "Don't listen to him," Dres says.

     "He doesn't," I insist. "He's going to go home after this and do like seventy-five push ups to make up for this meal." I'm joking now and I've got the see the joke through, if only to enjoy the way Dres has gone pink, embarrassed. "Am I — am I wrong? Oh, a hundred push ups, huh. But you didn't even have that much pie."

     I reach over, patting his stomach and he swipes my hand away.

     "Cas," grandma warns but her tone is amused.

    "He knows I'm joking, mostly, anyway. Don't you," I turn to look right at Dres, "bro?" Dres's eyebrows go up, the vein in his neck straining just slightly. You wouldn't even notice if you weren't looking. The thing is I'm nearly positive it's not a reaction of mild anger. It's not a mild reaction at all. It's funny to me that we have these moments now, that I can summon with a word. My mom and grandmother don't have the slightest clue, but Dres and I, we know exactly the significance of my choice words.

     I watch his face the whole time as I back out of the kitchen laughing. Probably I'll regret everything I've just said, but I can't say I didn't enjoy it. Even though my mom and grandmother are staring at us like we're two aliens invading Earth.

     "What's so funny?" Suki asks as I nearly bump into her. She's holding a glass of wine that I did jostle, and the liquid sloshes back and forth.

     "Nothing," I say quickly. "Just told a joke, is all."

     Amelia who's in ear shot, says, "Tell it again."

     "You should, actually, ask your brother. He tells it better than I do."

     Amelia squints at me, like this will help her see into the past and find out the joke for herself. I add a shrug just to emphasize how at ease I most definitely am not. My stomach is jittery. It's fun on a normal basis poking at Dres, but in front of my family in such a secretive way, it's different. I've never had a relationship with someone where I could have these kinds of secret moments.

     I slide out of the room before anyone else can say anything, slinking off to the bathroom. I need a moment to myself.

     I catch Uncle Dan on the stairs on my way back from the bathroom. He's carrying a sleeping Sofia. "Do you want me to?" I ask, opening my arms. I'm sharing a bed with Sofia and Maddox for the weekend and I'm about as ecstatic about it as one can be having two toddlers in a full sized bed with you.

     Uncle Dan shakes his head. "No, I've got it," he whispers. I nod, before continuing to the living room. Dres, Amelia and Maddox are there but the adults are not. Maddox is lying on his stomach on the floor, crashing his actions figures into the floor. Amelia's standing by the bookcase, perusing.

     I move into the room quietly, not trying to draw Maddox or Amelia's attention. I sink onto the couch beside Dres, falling mostly into his side, mostly intentionally. He gives me a look that's unamused.

     "I gotta tell you, I am just sated," I say into his shoulder, where my head is turned. "Absolutely sated," I repeat, with emphasis.

     "Are you now?" Dres asks, tone dry. I shift closer to him. "Because you're not acting very sated."

     "What can I say? My hunger is endless."

     "Mm," Dres replies, dismissively.

     "What's a matter? You're not playing ball tonight?" I look up at him, questioningly. "Is this about the bro comment because I meant that with the utmost of respects. The highest of respects."

     "Your family is present," he responds, more like a warning hiss.

     "That's what makes it fun."

     Dres glances at me but looks away quickly, like prolonged eye contact between us is just as provocative as everything else we could be doing right now. I mean obviously we wouldn't be doing anything right now, his sister and Maddox are present.

     "You didn't actually..." he trails.

     I bite back my grin, tipping my head upwards so I can whisper into his ear, "I'm insatiable."

     "Cas," he warns.

     "I washed my hands, if that's any consolation."

     Dres has gone rigid, his shoulders tight and hunched at his ears. Whether I did or didn't do anything upstairs (I did) doesn't even matter. Dres's reaction to hearing about it is far better.

     "After I licked them clean, that is," I add.

    "Calvin."

     "Alright, alright," I say, holding back my laughter but unable to contain my grin. "Bro just does it for me."

     "I'm going to kill you," he snaps.

     "Please do."