“Mmm.” Rafe kisses me softly, gently moving his fingers inside me, making me shudder against him. He kisses my cheeks, and I bury my face in his hair, going limp against him. Our come is smeared between us, but I relax into him and he wraps me in his arms.
Finally, I start to feel slimy, so I get a warm washcloth and clean us up. Rafe slides under the covers, but stays sitting up.
“Can I stay?” he asks a little tentatively, the ghost of the earlier tension rearing its head.
“Yeah, course,” I say, getting into bed. Then I add, “You can always stay,” and Rafe gives me a sleepy smile, confidence back in place. He pulls me to him and the feeling of all that skin against mine is intoxicating. I touch him the way he sometimes touches me, pretty sure he’s okay with it. I rub up and down his spine, and he hums contentedly, then rolls onto his back so I’m lying with my cheek against his shoulder, his arm around me. I slide my hand into his hair and absently untangle it as my mind wanders.
“Colin?” Rafe says softly.
“Hmm.”
“My sister invited you to Thanksgiving at her house.”
He rubs circles on my back before I notice I’ve tensed up.
“Oh, um, well, that’s nice of her. I always go to Pop’s, though. He’d be pissed if I didn’t show.”
“Yeah, I told her you probably had plans with your family. But I wanted to pass along the invitation.” Rafe kisses the top of my head, but then he shifts so he can look at me. “I’d really like it if you’d come to dinner with my family.”
His voice is soft and even, but I can hear how serious he is.
“Yeah, sorry, but Pop—”
“I know. I don’t mean on Thursday. Look, I know you’re not ready to tell your family. I get that you’re not comfortable going out with me in public. But my family already knows about us. You met Luz. I just…. It doesn’t have to happen right now. But I need to know that we exist outside these walls.”
“Rafe, I….” But I have absolutely nothing to say to that.
“Just think about it. Okay?” He kisses me and settles me back against him. He falls asleep in a few minutes, but I lie awake for a long time, my fingers in Rafe’s hair, wishing real-life shit was as easy to untangle as the knots there.
I LIKE the city on holidays even though I don’t care about Thanksgiving. Fewer people around and everyone’s less rude, like they remember we’re all someone’s family. A few older ladies at the bus stop actually nod to me when I walk by on my way to Pop’s.
The Eagles are playing this afternoon, but I’m going over in time for the early game, which is Detroit and Chicago. I grab more beer on my way, but when I get to Pop’s, it’s clear I didn’t need to bother. The whole refrigerator is a tetris of cases, cans, and bottles.
After he invited me for dinner, Rafe explained that his family doesn’t really celebrate Thanksgiving. For them, it’s just mandatory family time, and they cook a huge traditional Mexican meal at Gabriela’s, since her place is the biggest. When I told him it sounded nice, he said I could still come.
But we both knew I wouldn’t.
After sitting on Pop’s couch for a few hours drinking beer, I’m starting to have second thoughts. I’m starving and there’s no food. The Bears are playing like shit. And Brian keeps throwing drained beer cans at the TV in anger, so the entire living room reeks.
When I crack open my fifth beer, I realize I’m pretty drunk. My decreased tolerance is a reminder that I haven’t been drinking much lately because I’ve been spending so much time with Rafe.
It’s like sliding into a warm and comfortable hole, though. My arms and legs feel heavy, like doing anything but sitting on this couch would be impossible, and my head’s fuzzy.
And apparently my fuzzy head only wants to think about Rafe. Like, why, exactly, did I come here, to this sad place, when I could be with Rafe, eating delicious food and seeing him interact with his family? But then Brian grins at me and holds out a couple stale crackers he found in the kitchen, and I know I have to be here.
Halfway through the Eagles game, Daniel calls. While Sam chats with him, I find myself wondering where he is for Thanksgiving. Maybe I do wish I were with Rafe instead of being here, but at least I have somewhere to be. I don’t like to think of Daniel alone in Whereverthefuck, Michigan. Sam holds the phone out to me, but I shake my head.
I drunk text Rafe, I wish I were with u.
He texts back almost immediately: You can still come if you want. Lots of food.
My stomach growls. U wdnt like me now, I write. Rafe’s made it really clear he doesn’t want to be around me when I drink.