Chapter Text
queenofbiscuits asked:
okay so this is a super specific request, but idk if you remember the Thanksgiving drabble in BAON where Edge is going to go get Jeff? but like, this one: “You’re not going to starve yourself on Thanksgiving.”
I do remember! Specific, yes, but I can work with this!
It was stupid to feel lonely, Jeff told himself.
Alone, sure, his roommates had all gone home for Thanksgiving, so there was no one in the apartment, but him and the cat.
It was stupid, really. He should be enjoying it. Unlimited access to the big television and PlayStation, no work, and he’d even splurged on a good frozen dinner and a slice of pie at the grocery store yesterday.
Wasn’t like he really had anything to miss, anyway. His last family thanksgiving was better not remembered and thinking of Julia made a sort of thickness rise in his throat so better not to think about it.
Antwan had called this morning, and Jeff could hear the laughter and chatter in the background while they talked. That wasn’t worth thinking about either, not that or the argument they’d had when Jeff wouldn’t let Antwan buy him a plane ticket. No one was going to accuse him of being with Antwan for money, thanks, not even himself.
But he hated arguing, hated the sour taste it left in his mouth to know Antwan was upset with him.
It would be okay, he told himself. No one ever got dumped for not letting someone spend money on them, right?
He was idling flipping through Netflix, petting the purring cat absently when the intercom buzzed.
That surprised him. Maybe one of his roommate’s friends didn’t know they were gone for the holiday? But who would stop by on Thanksgiving?
He shooed the cat away, wincing as she dug her claws into his thigh. Went to the door to press the button and said hesitantly, “Yes.”
“Buzz me up.”
Even through the tinny speaker Jeff recognized the voice, saying in disbelief, “Edge?” But he didn’t hesitate to push the unlock button, something had to be wrong, someone must be hurt for Edge to come here, oh, God, maybe Stretch was sick again, his low HP, maybe there had been another attack, maybe—
Edge was at his door before he could come up with any other terrible scenarios. He was smartly dressed in a nice suit, even his tie was ruler-straight. “Put on your shoes.”
Jeff was already shoving his feet in them, “Yeah, let me grab a jacket. Is…is it bad?” It couldn’t be bad or someone else would have come for him, right?
“Bad? Not at all, Papyrus’s cooking has improved immensely since he stopped taking lessons with Undyne.”
What?
“What?” Jeff repeated for Edge’s benefit.
“Put. On. Your. Shoes.” Edge repeated patiently.
“Not that part! What about food?”
“You’re not going to starve yourself on Thanksgiving. You’re coming with me and you will join us at Papyrus and Sans’s home, you will have dinner with us, barring any dishes with tomatoes, and you will have a slice of pie after. Perhaps two.”
“Um.” If there was a good protest for all that, Jeff was struggling to come up with it. Maybe Antwan couldn’t carry him to the plane, but Edge didn’t look like he would have a problem dragging him to the car, he might even be looking forward to it, and the only question would be whether Jeff was riding in the front or the trunk. Jeff looked down at his old t-shirt and sweatpants, “I’m not really dressed for it.”
“You’re fine,” Edge assured. “Stretch will be jealous. Now, can we go? We’re missing the appetizers.”
Edge came here for him, putting off time with his own family, Jeff realized. For him. He blinked hard, tears prickling, and grabbed his jacket. “Okay, yeah. Let’s go.”
Frozen dinners sucked, anyway.
Fin