Even if it happened only a month ago, if it happened then that someone told Alfred how he would be spending Thanksgiving this year... well, frankly, he wouldn't believe it for a moment. But here he was, sitting next to Francis, waiting to be served the big meal at an extremely fancy dining hall, complete with chandeliers and an upscale bar in the back. To Alfred, this kind of ritzy dinner party only happened in movies.
"Are you all right, cher?" Francis asked—Alfred was being unusually quiet this evening.
"U-um."
"Do not be so nervous. You will be fine, I promise. Just remember my advice."
"...Uh." Alfred knew that Francis gave him a few tips, but he couldn't, for the life of him, recall any of them right now. "L-look, are you sure it's such a good idea to bring me along? I mean, you and your dad are here because you needed to... uh, ya know..."
"Network, yes, yes. But it is so boring, Alfred. I certainly appreciate having your company for tonight."
"Yeah, but it's Thanksgiving now. This isn't really...can't you and your dad network or whatever some other time? I wouldn't mind celebrating the holiday at your place, ya know."
"...Have you forgotten, Alfred? Père and I are from France."
"Uh, that's pretty hard to forget."
"Then, you should know why we don't celebrate at our house." Alfred's eyebrows furrowed, and Francis had to remind himself that the American really, actually, didn't know these things. "...People in France do not celebrate Thanksgiving."
"What!? Then what do you guys do on Thanksgiving break?"
Patience, Francis. "We do not have a Thanksgiving break in France."
"...oh, yeah. Makes sense."
At that point, Francis and Alfred heard the sounds of a microphone coming to life, and then the entire room fell silent. All eyes were soon on a man standing by a table—clearly a very sharp-looking, affluent man.
"Good evening, everyone. I am happy to welcome all of you to our twenty seventh Jove Incorporated Thanksgiving dinner, and hope you will have a pleasant meal. Now, I know everyone is eager to eat already, but being a Thanksgiving dinner, I would like to take the opportunity to thank all the people who have made this an exciting and prosperous year."
'Hell yes I'm eager to eat already!' Alfred thought. Honestly, it was the only thing he could look forward to—even though Francis wanted Alfred's company, the Frenchman had been mostly catching up with the other people at the table for the past half hour. Of course, all the other people there, all of them strangers, were way too fancy for Alfred to try speaking with.
"First, I'd like to thank William Dunhurst, CEO of Langley Technology, for handling our acquisition so smoothly. And yes, you heard right—starting next year, Langley Technology will officially be a part of Jove Incorporated!"
...And now Alfred was starting to zone out. What was the host going on about? It didn't sound interesting, or even wholly English to him. Other people wanted to hear this? Alfred suppressed a yawn and started to discreetly pick at the table cloth while the host continued on. Honestly, this was so boring...
"...And finally, of course, I'd like to thank my lovely wife Beatrice, and my beautiful daughters, Nadia and Catherine, for their unending support!" The host gestured to his nearby family—
—and Alfred felt his stomach fall through the seat of his chair. Sitting among the host's family—yes, there was no mistaking that face, that long black hair—it was one of Francis' bastard friends who laughed when he tried to apologize about the movies!
As the host wrapped up his speech, Alfred glanced around the room and saw more of Francis' friends. With each face that he recognized, he felt his stomach sink further and further. Maybe he could excuse himself from this dinner because he was feeling sick...
Moments later, however, the food was served, and Alfred temporarily dropped his dreary thoughts when he caught a whiff of how good it smelled. He wanted to dig in immediately, but knew he had to wait until everyone at the table said what they were thankful for.
...Except, everyone else at the table just started to eat. Alfred looked rather confused, but before he could think about it too hard, he felt someone holding his hand.
He looked over and saw that it was Francis. "Mon lapin, is everything all right? You do not look well, and you haven't touched your food yet." Well, for Francis, that felt a little odd. He figured he would feel more relieved if Alfred refrained from pigging out for once.
"Um, well..." Alfred decided he shouldn't mention how he felt about Francis' friends. No need to worry his boyfriend about this... at least, not right now. "Aren't we all supposed to say what we're thankful for before we eat?"
"Non, there is no need, as you can see."
"Well, I'd still like to do it, either way." Francis would have rather started eating by that point, but he figured that the least he could do for Alfred tonight was to spare him a few minutes and listen. So, begrudgingly, Francis nodded for the other to go on.
"All right! Let's see... First of all, I'm thankful for my family, of course. Then there's Arthur—you remember him, right? My best friend, from back home." Francis nodded, so Alfred continued: "And then we've got the rest of my friends from this school, Kiku, Ludwig, Feli, and Lovi. Oh, and I'm also thankful for the scholarship that lets me stay here in the first place." Then Alfred flashed a soft smile at the other boy, saying, "Finally, of course, I'm thankful to have you, Francis."
At that last part, Francis felt himself melt on the inside, and he smiled back at Alfred. It was rare for Alfred to have such a tender and subdued look on his face, but somehow, every time, it made Francis feel nice to have it directed at himself. "Merci, mon cher."
And then, Alfred just had to ask, "So, what about you? What're you thankful for?"
...Dammit. Of course Alfred would ruin the mood. "Ah. That is..." Francis quickly directed his gaze to his food and frowned. He was not prepared for that question at all. Who would even ask such a thing? "You see..." Francis didn't want to lie about this, either—the last thing he needed was to have Alfred call him out on it. So, whom could he say he was thankful for? Obviously, Francis thought, he could mention his father, who was his only close family. His friends, on the other hand... they could be really annoying sometimes. Do they still count? And what about Alfred, exactly...? "...Actually. Now that I think about it, my list is a little too personal to say."
"Aw, man, what a letdown!"
"Perhaps another time, cher!" Yes, Francis figured, this was probably the most socially graceful way to respond, when he didn't have an actual answer.
"Well, fine. At least tell me this... are you thankful for me?"
Come on, couldn't he just drop this already? "Alfred... Ah, like I said, my list is too personal." At that, Alfred had such a hurt look on his face, and Francis needed to remind himself not to back peddle on this one. It's Alfred's fault that this happened, after all, he was being too nosy!
They stared at each other for a tense moment longer, before turning back to their food. For the rest of the meal, they awkwardly avoided speaking with each other.
Alfred leaned against the wall, ran a hand through his hair, and deeply hoped that no one would spot him. Well, so far, this dinner had been a disaster. Yes, his family had been through a disastrous Thanksgiving or two in the past... but never had they been this miserable. The meal, which was supposed to be lively and joyous, had instead dragged on, Alfred feeling like his chair was really just his own personal hell space. Francis managed to get some conversation going among their tablemates, but there was no way Alfred could talk to any of them—and frankly, no one seemed to notice he existed anyway.
As he wondered on why he could have ever thought that this would work out, Francis had finally approached him.
"There you are, Alfred! I was wondering where... ah... you are by yourself?"
"...You didn't seriously think I was gonna mingle with this crowd, did you?"
"Oh, Alfred, you really should try. This dinner will be just miserable for you if you sit in the corner all evening!"
Honestly, that corner was the nicest thing at this dinner so far. "C'mon dude, you and I both know that I'm just gonna screw things up if I try talking to someone. And considering that you and your dad are here because of repuation, then, really...that's the last thing you want, right?"
"Well..." Okay, so Alfred did have a point here. But, when Francis really thought about it...he didn't exactly invite Alfred along so that he could talk with everyone else here. "Let us never mind that. For now, why don't we just enjoy our time together?"
"...Yeah. Let's do that." If it meant having a remotely enjoyable time this evening, then Alfred could push Francis' response about being thankful to the back of his mind. For now.
But, just as they were walking away from the corner, a young man whom Alfred didn't recognize approached them. "There you are, Francis!" he said. "Lenina has been looking for you."
"Ah, but of course!" Francis replied, putting on his nicest smile. "It is always a pleasure to see her again. Alfred, would you like to join us?"
"Uh, no thanks. I think I'll just, um, mingle... you know?"
Francis couldn't help the concerned look that flashed on his face for the moment that his friend was turned away. "...But of course."
"Y-yeah, ya know, just catch up with me when you're done, all right?"
"Right, certainly. Until then." With that, Francis turned to the other man and they walked off into the crowd.
As soon as the other two couldn't see him anymore, Alfred deflated and fiddled with his fingers. Well, there went his only reason for being here. It... wouldn't take Francis too long, would it?
Mingle, mingle... yes, his current state of sitting quietly and alone, this was definitely mingling. Alfred sighed and slouched in his seat, eyeing the other people who were happily chatting with one another.
After about fifteen minutes in his nice corner, waiting for Francis, Alfred decided to take his lonliness elsewhere. So he walked to another part of the large dining hall and stood there, and after about another ten minutes, he walked to another place, and so on...
Alfred began to aimlessly trace patterns on the bar before him. So how long had it been? He checked the time, but it had been so long that he didn't even remember when he started waiting. Well, let's see...if he tried to measure it in how many times he switched places since Francis left him, and if he estimated that he spent about ten minutes in each place, then that would come to... that would come to... dammit. Alfred groaned and buried his face in his hands. He must've changed spots at least four times. Five times. Christ, had he really been waiting for Francis for nearly an hour?
Right then, Alfred noticed some people from his school pass by, and so he quickly turned away from them and hoped that he wasn't spotted. Of course, it had been this way the whole night after dinner—no, Alfred thought bitterly, he couldn't just be bored at this party. Oh no, on top of that, he also had to spend the evening trying to avoid other people from school. Who seemed to be all over the place.
Alfred swore that, after his big shopping trip with Francis, the other students only made fun of him even more. Whenever the couple walked down a hallway, and they noticed some people staring at them, whispering among each other and laughing... well, Francis insisted that it was admiration for his boyfriend's new look and beautiful skin. But Alfred could only think that those people were just saying nasty things about him, laughing at him even more than they had before. He never said that out loud to Francis, though.
Oh, Francis, Francis... where the hell was he now, anyway? Alfred glanced around the room, trying to spot the Frenchman. During his times of miserably watching everyone else chatting, Alfred had caught sight of Francis talking with someone new every now and again. After sweeping the room with his eyes for the third time, Alfred finally saw him.
And he was talking with some people whom Alfred recognized as Francis' Bastard Friends. Just as he caught sight of them, they broke out into laughter, and Alfred felt all of his misery resurge with a vengeance, eating away at his stomach. Dammit, dammit. Why was Francis hanging out with them? They weren't talking about him just now, were they? And besides, wasn't Francis supposed to come hang out with him as soon as possible? Nowhere did anyone mention that Francis supposedly had time to talk to those people!
Alfred tapped his finger on the counter impatiently and stewed. And then he caught sight of something bright blue in the corner of his eye. A few seats away from him, someone had ordered some bright blue drink, with a slice of lime stuck on the rim and a distinct layer of neon green on the bottom. Once Alfred saw it, he had to force himself to look away before he was caught staring. What was that drink, exactly? He assumed it was some kind of alcohol, but he wasn't paying attention to what it was called or what the bartender had put in it.
He pursed his lips together and stole another glance at the drink. It looked extremely appealing, whatever it was. If it was alcoholic, though, then he really couldn't have any... after all, he was underage. On top of that, this dinner party wasn't exactly an appropriate time to risk getting drunk. Not when he was with Francis, who was here for the sake of reputation.
Francis... Alfred chanced another look at him and saw him still chatting merrily with his awful friends. They then broke out into laughter again, and at that exact moment, Alfred felt something inside of him just snap.
Fuck Francis. Fuck this dinner party. With a determined resolve, Alfred faced forward again and ordered the same drink from a few seats down. It seemed like the bartender barely even glanced at Alfred, much less asked for ID, before he got to work and set down the same brightly colored drink a few minutes later. Alfred threw his head back and drank it up as ravenously as he would with his favorite milkshake. Beneath the delicate citrus flavor, he could feel that distinct burn of several liquors coming together. His night had been miserable so far, and if Francis was going to spend it laughing (at him) with other people instead of hanging out with him as promised, then Alfred would find other ways to enjoy himself.
Finally, Francis decided he was done with the obligatory chatting, and so he gladly started to look for Alfred. He didn't get very far into his search before Nadia waved him over.
"Francis, come over here!" she said. "You should see this."
"What is it?"
"It'll be better if you just see it for yourself. Come on!"
Well, Francis thought, she wasn't leaving him much of a choice. So he reluctantly followed her to the bar that was near the back of the dining hall, where he could see a group of their mutual friends were clustered together. They seemed to be cheering someone on to keep drinking, and Francis really wasn't interested in seeing a drunk person right now (funny as it may have been), but before he could think of a way to excuse himself, he thought he could hear Alfred's voice among the crowd.
Oh no. Please, please, don't let it be what Francis thought it was.
"'N dere ya go. 'N you bitches thought I couldn't do it," Alfred proudly declared, slamming a glass down on the bar.
Oh, merde. Francis could feel the blood start to drain from his body. This was even worse than he imagined. Alfred was completely plastered by now!
"I didn't know he could be this much fun, Francis!" Nadia said.
"How about another round?" piped in a brunette boy.
"Oh, Alfie, you're so cute! Can I take you home with me?" threw in another girl—by the look of it, she was fairly tipsy herself.
"... Dun call me Alfie," was Alfred's only reply. Somehow, the response was affirmative enough for the brunette boy to ask the bartender for another drink.
To Francis, the whole catastrophe felt like watching a train wreck, and it left him feeling so paralyzed that he couldn't think, or even feel a particular emotion.
"... Francis. Francis? Hey, Francis!" Nadia said, and finally it was enough to draw the Frenchman's attention. "Ha, I knew it. You're thinking about what you're going to do to him, aren't you? Like I was saying, he's been pretty rowdy tonight!"
Francis felt positively disgusted by what Nadia was suggesting—but luckily, the feeling was strong enough to snap him out of his stupor, and he realized that he needed to get Alfred and himself away from there as soon as possible. He also realized then that, as much as he would hate it, the quickest way to get out would be to play off of what Nadia said. So, without a moment to lose, he put on a convincing smirk and gave Alfred an appraising look. "Oui, I see what you are saying. What a nice surprise I have tonight!" Francis pretended to give the issue a little more thought and then added, "Yes, I do believe that Alfred and myself should take our leave now."
"So, you're finally going to go all the way with him?"
"Hm..." How should he answer? "... Probably, he will not be able to stay awake for long enough." Francis figured that if he said he did it, then it would be a lie that Alfred would need to hold up too. And he really didn't want to depend on Alfred to do that. "But, of course, that won't stop me from trying~!"
At that, Nadia cackled. "Well, what can I say? He's all yours!"
Francis kept up his grin and finally approached Alfred, who was just getting served another round. Yeah, Francis thought, not happening. He nudged the other boy's shoulder and said, "Alfred, let's go home now."
Slowly, the other boy turned around, and it took him a moment to focus in on his boyfriend. "... Francish? Francish! Where dahell ya been? I was waitin' fer an hour!"
"Ah... that does not matter right now. What does matter is that we are going home now." And then, for the sake of being convincing, Francis forced himself to add, "I would like to spend some very special time with you."
"Speshul time? Dahell ya mean by dat?"
"That is a surprise~! Come with me and I will show you. I promise it will be worth the trouble!" Please please get up already.
"Hhhhhumph. Ya better show me!" Finally, Alfred hopped out of his seat. Or at least he tried to—Francis had to end up helping him out.
"Oh, so eager to—wait. Alfred, mon cher, what happened to your glasses?" Now that he had a closer look, he noticed that one of Alfred's lenses had a huge crack in the middle. What on Earth had Alfred been up to all evening?
"Pffff, hell if I know. Whaddya think ya are, my mom?"
The people who were nearby started laughing, and Francis had to keep his embarrassment in check. "Certainly not, but... I do believe that I will have to show you not behave in this way~!" And on that lovely note, Francis started leading Alfred towards the exit, away from all the gleeful, laughing faces of his friends.
After what felt like too long, the two of them finally made it outside, and Francis was all too happy to feel the chilly air on his face. He pulled out his phone and started writing a text to his father when he heard Alfred groan beside him.
"... Ugh... I feel like I'm gonna puke..."
Francis frowned. "If you must vomit, then please do not do it on me." At that moment, Francis realized just how mad he was at Alfred, and all of the panic he felt earlier was swiftly replaced with sheer anger. Honestly—Alfred was the last person whom he'd expect to do this kind of thing! Maybe the American wasn't the most socially graceful person out there, but he thought he could trust Alfred not to screw things up this badly!
"... Duuuude. 'f I puke, I'm aimin' fer you."
Seriously, just what had gotten into him tonight? Francis was ready to ream Alfred right there, now that they were alone, but... well, Alfred really was looking a little sick. And Francis preferred that he keep the contents of his stomach to himself. So, he took a deep breath, tried to calm himself down, and then said as nicely as he could, "Since you are not feeling well, then why don't you have a seat? Père will be here soon and take us home."
"Nu-uh. Yer not da boss of me."
"... What can I do to get you to sit?"
"Nuttin'! 'Coz I'm not gunna lisshun to ya!" With that, Alfred suddenly noticed how fast the road was spinning, and he slammed himself against the wall of the building just to keep his balance. "Urgh. Not feelin' well. Think I'm gunna sit down..." So he started sliding down the wall and Francis, finally satisfied with the situation, simply rolled his eyes and finished up his text. He so could not wait for this night to be over.
During the following morning, Alfred had the kind of rest where he would wake up, acknowledge that he felt terrible, and then fall back asleep before he could even decide whether he wanted to get out of bed or not. At first he woke up to birds, then again to more birds, then the third time was for no reason, the fourth time because he heard voices coming from a nearby room, and the final time he woke up to the sounds of someone shuffling about in his room and humming very quietly.
But Alfred's lucidity didn't come back all at once. At first, he couldn't recognize the voice at all...but he knew that he was supposed to know it, and he knew that he liked it. That was a start.
Finally, Alfred rolled his head to the side and chanced opening his eyes. He could see the sunbathed figure of a young man adjusting the curtains, blond, bearded, and... right! Francis! Alfred tried calling out to him, but all that came out of his mouth was a miserable groan.
"Alfred!" Shit, that was loud. Francis noticed Alfred withdraw and continued more quietly this time. "Désolé. How are you feeling?"
Alfred could only respond by giving Francis a bleary look and groaning again. Well, at least this time, the groaning almost sounded like it could be words.
"... Right. I can only imagine." Francis sat on the bed and opened a nearby bottle of water. "Drink this."
Slowly, with Francis' help, Alfred sat up against the headboard. The more vertical (and the more conscious) he became, the more he felt some intense, persistent pounding in his head. He drank down all the water, but it didn't help much.
While he was drinking, the room fell silent, and Alfred did everything he could to remember anything. So, the person sitting next to him was Francis, his way-too-good-to-be-true boyfriend. And the room they were in... not familiar. Alfred hissed in pain, trying to figure out this room and feeling even worse throbbing in his head instead.
... Right, this was Francis' house. And what was he doing at Francis' house? Well, the first thing he could remember at this place was getting ready for that dinner party and—
"Shitshitshit!"
"Alfred?"
"The dinner party, dude!"
"Alfred, relax." Francis gently pushed the other boy back into the pillows. "Everything is all right, just relax."
"... Francis, what happened last night?"
"Well, you got drunk, and then we had to take you home."
Drunk? Well, that would certainly explain the headache right now... Alfred further nestled himself into the pillows and pulled the comforter all the way up. Now, to figure out the reason why he drank last night... let's see, it was because... oh. That's right. Alfred frowned and turned away, remembering all the misery and anger he felt last night.
"Alfred? What is wrong?" Francis asked.
In his current state, Alfred was having trouble with figuring out how to explain himself. He turned to look at Francis again, with a rather pitiful expression on his face, and tried to compile an explanation that would make sense. "It's about last night. I... well, I thought... I mean, you said... ugh. Just, I didn't like last night."
"Oui, I understand," Francis said, sighing. "Alfred, mon cher, I want you to know that I am sorry about that. I knew what those parties are like ahead of time." And he knew that his friends would be there too. But hopefully, Alfred didn't remember that part. "And you told me that you did not want to go. I... I should have listened to you."
Alfred almost couldn't believe that Francis was apologizing; he thought for sure that he was in for a lecture. "... Um... th-thanks. So, uh... you're not mad at me?"
"Well, I certainly was last night. But I had time to think about it in the morning, and honestly, there was no need for me to force you to come." Also, he had to check up on Alfred earlier, and it was pretty hard to stay mad at him when he was sleeping and looking so damn cute and peaceful. "Do not worry about the dinner, really. Père told me that even if anyone knew you were with us, then they would just assume you were drinking too much because you are young. Really, it is quite normal for people our age to get like that during casual dinners."
"That... that was casual? No way..."
Francis let out a small, amused laugh, and gently ran his hand through Alfred's hair. "So, you see, there is nothing to worry about. Just relax and work on feeling better. Once you are well enough..." Here, Francis' smile became more devious, and he leaned close over Alfred. "Well. Once you are feeling better, I promise to make the rest of our break well worth it."
Alfred couldn't tell if all the blood rushing to his face was making him feel better or worse. "Y-yeah. All r-right."
At that, Francis swiftly toned himself back down, and he got up. "Well, for now, I shall bring you more water and something to eat." Once he reached the door, he realized he forgot to mention something, and figured that he should throw it out there now and get it done with. No need to dwell on something that's unpleasant. "Ah, and by the way, Alfred. I needed to find an excuse for us to leave early last night. So, when we return to school on Monday, you may find some people asking if we, ah... did anything particularly intimate last night."
"... what."
Alfred was only answered with silence, and when he turned to the door, he saw that Francis was long gone. Sneaky bastard.
Author's Note: Well, that was a long time coming! But really, I wanted to wait until November to post this because, you know... Thanksgiving! Right? Right?
...Yeah, as if. I'm really sorry about the wait, everyone. There isn't really an explanation to give on this one.
Since I'm on the subject of people I'm thankful for, I want to say that my list includes all of you lovely readers! Thanks to all the new people reading this for the first time! And a big, BIG thanks to all of you fantastic readers who stuck with this story for all the many months (over a year already!) that's it been! Hope to see you all at the end! And yes, there will be an ending. I know I said it in an earlier chapter, but I think now's a good time to repeat it... I like this story too much to just let it sit unfinished. It may take a while and go through really inconsistent updating, but I'm going to see it through to the end.
By the by, just like with last year, I'll be away for a few weeks around Christmas, spending time with relatives. I think I can get the next chapter in before then, but the one after that will probably have to wait until 2014.
Until then, whether you'll be celebrating Thanksgiving or not... have a happy November!
