26. Is He Thicc

Chapter twenty-six

Is He Thicc

Early on a Friday afternoon in September, Oliver and his friends gathered in the main dining area of the cafe. Everything had been scrubbed clean for the long weekend, the air smelled like disinfectant and lemon-scented floor wax. Liel had arrived twenty minutes prior, dressed down in a pair of jeans and a pink polo shirt, and Oliver thought he looked positively edible.

"Alright," Quin said sharply, scanning the group with her fierce eyes. "Form a circle, and everyone hold hands."

Quin took Oliver's hand and Jude's on her other side, since they were the only two people in the group who'd been to the destination before. Liel stood on Oliver's other side, and Oliver grinned down at him when he twined their fingers together.

Zef's wings buzzed in agitation, but after a moment of deliberation, they took Tad's hand, then hesitantly, Toni's. Once they were all linked, Quin took a deep breath.

"Okay, I've never teleported with this big of a group before, so I need everyone to do their best to empty their minds as best they can. Oliver and Jude are going to focus on the destination, and I'm going to follow them. Don't let go of the person beside you. If you break away from the physical connection, I might lose you in transit."

"What happens if you lose us?" Gem demanded. "Do we just float in limbo forever?"

Quin shrugged. "Maybe. So don't let go."

"You got this, babe," Glyma encouraged from her spot between Jude and Willow.

"Okay," Quin said. "Everyone close your eyes and empty your minds. Oliver, Jude, think about the ranch."

Oliver and Jude had decided to focus on the bottom of the front porch steps where there'd be space for all of them to land. With a squeeze to Liel's hand, Oliver closed his eyes and pictured it. The wooden stairs leading up to the porch where the swing hung from silver chains. The banister made of red maple. The front door, heather gray, framed by windows.

The scent of his mom's floor polish—pine. Always pine. And the feel of the throw pillows on the couch. The terrible floral upholstery of the living room furniture that his mom loved. Oh god, and that awful singing bass hanging above the fireplace beside the family picture of Oliver and his parents they'd taken before he left for college.

Home. He'd forgotten how much he missed it.

Smoke tingled Oliver's nose, and it almost broke his focus. But it was probably from the fireplace. Mom loved when the fireplace was on. She said it made everything feel homey.

When Oliver tried to inhale again, the smoke was thicker. Or maybe it was the atmosphere. Everything was congealing around him, tight and sticky. Someone's hand tightened on his, and he nearly pulled away.

He coughed. At least, he tried to cough, but the smoke was choking him now, and he couldn't inhale because he was being crushed in a vise.

Until, all at once, he wasn't.

Gasping, he opened his eyes to his parents living room, the fireplace in front of him. Oh shit, he'd messed it up, hadn't he?

A shrill shriek tore through the room, making half the group scream too. At the commotion, the singing bass whirred to life with its awful rendition of Don't Worry, Be Happy . Rusty, who was standing closest, yowled and hissed at it, tail puffing up as he scrabbled over the armchair and took refuge behind Willow, claws digging into her arms.

"Claws!" she cried, and Gem rushed to her side to help peel Rusty off of her as the poor Pyclon continued to hiss at the singing bass.

"Greg!" Oliver's mother screamed again. "Greg, home invasion! Greg!"

"No, Mom, it's me!" Oliver climbed—okay, fell—over the couch, nearly face-planting on the coffee table. "It's Oliver. Everything's okay. It's just us."

His mother, who was in the process of crab-walking backward to get away from the group of demons that had suddenly appeared in her living room, swallowed her next shout as she made eye contact with Oliver. "Oliver?"

"Yeah, it's me. I'm sorry. I messed up the teleportation. I was thinking about the fireplace and the bad upholstery—never mind, that's not important. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry. Are you okay?" He bent down and took her trembling hand, helping her stand.

"Deities below, your mom is so cute!" Gem squealed as he tore Rusty away from Willow, holding him aloft as he kicked and struggled.

"Put me down," Rusty snarled, and Gem promptly dropped him. He landed with a crash and another caterwaul, this time pained. "Fucking asshole!"

"What? You told me to put you down, so I did." Gem wiped his hands on his shorts like Rusty had dirtied them before he beamed at Oliver's mom and easily stepped over the couch, several arms reaching out. "Oh my gods, Mrs. Oliver's Mom, I'm so excited— oomph , fuck!"

Head colliding with the wooden chandelier hanging from the ceiling, Gem stumbled and collapsed onto the coffee table, crushing it under his ginormous ass.

"Gem!" Oliver couldn't decide whether to be concerned or annoyed.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry about your table. I'll totally pay for it," Gem said as he cradled his head. "Unless it was an antique. I can't afford that shit."

"Okay, how about—" Oliver started the moment before his dad burst into the room with a shotgun. "No, Dad!"

"Gun!" Toni shouted, and everyone screamed and dove for cover.

"Why does everything here want to kill us?" Glyma wailed as Quin tackled her to the ground.

"I just wanted to pet a horse," Willow sniveled.

"I'm too pretty to die!" Gem keened as he tried to scurry under the couch. He was, of course, much too large and ended up tipping the couch backward where it landed with a thud on top of Rusty, Toni, and Willow, who'd hidden behind it.

Liel ducked behind a large potted palm as Tad leapt in front of Zef, withdrawing razor-sharp ninja stars from under her onesie. "Try it, old man, and I'll fuck you up!" she roared.

Jude stood in the midst of the chaos and laughed.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Oliver yelled, leaping between his father and Tad. "Everyone needs to calm down. Dad, put the gun away, what the hell? And Tad, no ninja stars!"

"You say that now, but if he gets trigger happy, you'll be glad I came armed to the teeth," Tad spat, eyeing Oliver's father distrustfully.

"Oliver? What in tarnation?" his father boomed, lowering the shotgun.

"I'm sorry. We meant to teleport outside but I think I messed it up. Just don't shoot anyone." Oliver ran a shaky hand through his hair as he surveyed the damage.

The coffee table was in splinters, and the chandelier hung crooked. The upended couch was being set back on its feet as Rusty and Toni glared daggers at Gem.

"You almost broke my fin," Toni grumbled.

"You actually bent my tail," Rusty seethed, pointing at the kink near the tip of his pink tail.

"Well, I almost lost three eyes," Gem cried, pointing at the offending chandelier. "Why is that thing so sharp?"

"Why does Tad have ninja stars?" Jude asked.

"Why wouldn't I?" Tad replied as she tucked said stars back into her jumpsuit.

"Is the creature on the wall trapped?" Zef gestured toward the still-singing bass. "Is it in pain? Should we help it?"

"It's not real, Zef. Just leave the fish," Oliver said.

Quin helped Glyma to her feet, expression strained. "Why are there so many dead things on the walls?"

Shit, Oliver had forgotten about the mounted deer heads and antlers. "Uh, hunting."

"Is that why you brought us here, Oliver? To hunt us for sport?" Gem accused as he scrambled to his feet, giving the chandelier a wide berth.

"Please do not hunt us," Zef said sullenly. "I do not like to run."

"Don't worry, Zef. I'll protect you." Tad crouched into a defensive stance and reached back into her jumpsuit.

"No one is hunting anyone! Tad, I swear to god, do not pull out anymore weapons. Dad, please, go lock the gun away. Everyone else, just calm the fuck down!"

"Oliver, language," his mother reprimanded.

"Sorry, I'm stressed out!" he cried, startling when a familiar hand took his. Liel smiled at him comfortingly and inhaled deeply, exhaling in a deliberate whoosh. Oliver copied him, taking several deep breaths to calm himself. "Okay," he said, back under control, "everyone just back up a second."

Everyone backed toward the dining room, giving Oliver, Liel, and his parents some breathing room. Oliver kept a firm grip on Liel's hand as he turned to face his parents. They both stood in the mouth of the hallway, his mother clinging to her husband's arm, his father holding the shotgun at his side as he stared in shock at the eccentric group behind Oliver.

"Mom, Dad, these are my friends. We work together at the cafe." Oliver pointed at Jude. "Oh, and Jude. You know him."

"Hey, Maggie. Hi, Greg." Jude waved as he sat down in the floral printed armchair and grinned.

"Hello, Jude, dear. So good to see you," Oliver's mom said weakly.

"Everyone, these are my parents, Maggie and Greg," Oliver said, then he gestured at Glyma and Quin. "That's Glyma, my boss. She bakes everything at the cafe, and she's really good at it. Um, that's her partner, Quin, my other boss. She does all the back office stuff."

Glyma stepped cautiously forward, and Oliver heard his mother's thick swallow of apprehension. "Oliver has told me all about your baking skills. I thought, if you'd like, we could swap recipes," she said as she held out a plate of kriltcake. "I brought this for you. It's one of my specialties."

At Glyma's beaming smile, Oliver's father blushed and mumbled nonsensically, and his mother pressed a hand to her chest and giggled.

"Oh, well, isn't that sweet," Maggie said.

"Sorry for teleporting everyone into your living room," Quin said stiffly, still eyeing the shotgun dangling from Greg's hand. "I've never taken this many people with me, so it was hard to navigate."

"Mistakes happen, I suppose," Greg said.

"Sorry about your table," Gem blurted, all six hands fidgeting. "And your couch. And your… pointy light fixture of death."

"That's Gem," Oliver said before his parents could reply. "And beside him is Toni, Rusty, and Willow. That's Zef and Tad." Clearing his throat, he tightened his grip on Liel's hand and pulled him forward. "And this is Liel. My—"

"Ahhh! What's this?" Gem squealed as he picked up Mr. Pickles, Maggie's longhair cat. "It's so fat! What's it do?"

"It's a cat, you dumbass," Rusty said as he gritted his teeth and tried to straighten the kink in his tail. "It doesn't do anything."

"It sounds pissed," Toni said as Mr. Prickles growled, tail flicking as Gem held him at arm's length.

"It's face is all smooshed," Gem cooed. "And it's so grouchy. Ha, it's like Rusty!"

Gem swiveled Mr. Pickles in Rusty's direction, nearly bringing them nose-to-nose. Mr. Pickles growled. Rusty scowled. Mr. Pickles hissed. Rusty took an offended step back.

"Excuse me, you kiss your mother with that mouth?" he said.

"I kind of want to cuddle it," Willow said as she hesitantly touched Mr. Pickles' fur.

"I kind of want to punch it," Rusty grumbled.

"I kind of want to eat it," Tad said.

"Is it for eating?" Zef asked with a cock to their head.

"No! No eating the pets. Or anything alive. Actually, ground rule number one: no eating anything unless you check with me first. Okay?" Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose. "Gem, put the cat down."

"Sorry, Ollie," Gem whispered as he set Mr. Pickles back on the ground.

Avoiding Oliver's gaze, Willow scooped the cat up before it could escape and pressed her face into its fur with a giggle. To his surprise, Mr. Pickles' growls turned to purrs almost instantly.

"How about everyone takes their bags to their rooms?" Maggie cleared her throat, attempting a smile as she motioned to the hallway. "They're all made up, though some of you will have to share."

"Mrs. Oliver's mom," Gem whispered, slowly approaching them.

Maggie swallowed, looking up and up as Gem came to a stop before her. "It's, uh, just Maggie."

"Mrs. Maggie, do you have a cow room?" Gem asked, all eight eyes wide with intensity.

"Uh, the first room on the right has a cow painting on the wall," she said hoarsely.

Gem's nostrils flared, then he was moving with blinding speed, pushing past the other demons. "Toni and I call the first room on the right! Move, get out of the way, bitches. Toni, bring my bag!"

Shouldering both Gem's backpack and his own, Toni grudgingly followed his best friend. "Anyone wanna swap roommates?"

"Sucks to be you," Rusty said with a snicker.

Toni flipped him off as he disappeared down the hallway. Zef, Tad, and Willow—Willow still cradling a purring Mr. Pickles—followed him. Rusty hugged his bent tail to his chest as he skirted around Oliver's father, pale eyes narrowing on the shotgun.

"Here," Glyma said as she pushed the kriltcake into Maggie's hands. "Thank you for your hospitality. We're all very excited to be here to share in Oliver's birthday."

"You raised a wonderful son," Quin said, slapping Oliver's shoulder. "And he hasn't even poisoned a single customer. You should be very proud."

Oliver flushed. "Uh, thanks, Quin."

Quin dipped her chin before she ushered Glyma down the hallway. When it was only Liel, Oliver, and his parents left, Oliver straightened his spine and wrapped an arm around Liel's shoulders. Greg stiffened, and Maggie's eyes widened, locked on Oliver's thumb rubbing over Liel's shoulder.

"So as I was saying," Oliver said, "um, this is Liel. My—"

"Have you eaten?" His mother interrupted him, bustling toward the kitchen. "We should probably get dinner started, what with how much you all probably eat. Greg, won't you clean up the coffee table?"

"Mom?" Oliver asked.

"Your room's all made up, sweetheart," she said without looking at him. "For you and your… friend."

"Mom," Oliver said again, looking to his dad for some hint at support, but his father was already busy cleaning up the broken wood from the coffee table.

"I'm gonna have some tea, and then start dinner," Maggie said. "Maybe you can take your friends outside and show them the horses. Just… do be careful. They might scare the animals."

"Mo—" Oliver cut himself off when Liel squeezed his hand hard.

"Come, love," Liel whispered. "Give them a minute."

Oliver allowed Liel to lead him down the hallway. They passed Gem and Toni's room—

"Toni, look at the cow painting!"

—Then Glyma and Quin as they settled into the second queen room.

Rusty had claimed the top bunk in the room he and Jude would share, and Zef, Willow, and Tad were in the last room, across from Oliver's. There were two single beds on opposite walls, and a beanbag that Tad was currently building a blanket nest in.

Frustrated and embarrassed, Oliver tugged Liel into his childhood bedroom and closed the door. "I'm sorry," he said immediately, rounding Liel. "I can't believe they acted like that. I—"

"Oliver, they were overwhelmed. I think we might have genuinely scared them." Liel rubbed Oliver's arms. "And you don't need to apologize. We knew that it could be difficult for them to accept this, to accept… us. Remember?"

Oliver's eyes burned as he nodded. "It shouldn't be. Difficult, I mean. It shouldn't be."

"I know." Liel guided Oliver's face into his neck. "I know, darling. I'm sorry. We can go, if you want. We don't have to stay."

"Go where?"

"Home," Liel said, and Oliver's breath hitched.

"Do I even have that anymore?"

Forcing Oliver to look at him, Liel studied him with a stricken expression. "Yes, Oliver. You do." Then he kissed him. Hard. And Oliver grasped onto his words with both hands.

"We're leaving," Liel said when they parted. "You don't have to—"

"No, we can't leave. We just got here, and everyone's excited."

"I'm not going to let you martyr yourself for everyone else."

"But I want to take you riding. I want to show everyone the horses, and Gem… I can't leave before Gem gets to hug a cow. He'll be so disappointed."

Liel grimaced. "Honestly, I'm worried he wants to do more than hug a cow."

"Oh god, I can't let Gem fuck the cows!" Oliver cried.

"The fuck?" Toni bellowed from down the hall. A moment later, Oliver's door burst open, and Toni hauled Gem into the room as the Araknis protested. "What do you mean Gem wants to fuck the cows?"

Gem tugged himself free of Toni's tight grip. "Ow, Toni, you're hurting my arm! And who am I fucking?"

"I didn't—" Oliver said.

"Did you tell Oliver you wanted to fuck a cow?" Toni demanded, black eyes wild.

Several hands raised, palms out. "Um, no. I didn't tell Oliver that."

Toni's eyes narrowed. " Do you wanna fuck a cow?"

Rusty appeared in the doorway, leaning against the door jamb as Gem cocked his head, expression turning contemplative. "I mean, I don't know. Is he thicc?"

"Oh, that is the wrong answer," Rusty said as Liel made a noise of distress in the back of his throat.

"Gem, it's a cow," Oliver said, horrified.

Gem blinked several of his eyes. "Yeah, but is he thicc?"

Even Toni was staring at Gem like he had officially gone too far. "Gemmy?"

"Toni?" Gem frowned and looked at everyone in turn. "Why are you all looking at me like that?"

"Because it's a cow!" Oliver said, and Gem took a step back.

"Okay, calm down. I get that he's a cow, but I'm still wondering if he's thicc."

"Oh my god," Oliver whimpered.

"Gem, you're fucking with us, right? Like… please say you're fucking with us," Toni pleaded.

"Okay, you all are starting to freak me out," Gem said.

" We're freaking you out?" Oliver barked.

Gem's face twisted. "Stop yelling at me, Oliver!"

"You want to fuck the cow! I'm allowed to yell about that."

"I never said I wanted to fuck the cow because no one is confirming whether or not the cow is thicc!" Gem threw up numerous hands with an aggravated cry. "It's like I'm stuck in a timeloop with idiots who can't understand what I'm saying."

"But it's a fucking cow, Gem," Toni growled.

"Oh my gods, Toni, I know he's a cow. But is he or is he not thicc?"

"Hey, Gem," Rusty said conversationally, holding up a picture of Oliver standing next to a cream-colored heifer that he'd won a blue ribbon for at 4-H when he was thirteen. "Do you wanna fuck this cow?"

Gem's reaction was visceral; he made a gagging noise and shook his head. "What? No! I don't want to fuck a cow . That would be weird and gross. A cow can't consent. You said they're animals, right? Like, not smart like we are. That would be wrong."

Everyone collectively sighed in relief. Toni slumped against Oliver's dresser with a muttered, "Oh thank the deities."

"Then why didn't you just say that?" Oliver demanded.

Gem popped a hip and crossed two sets of arms over his torso. "I assumed that was a given. 'Cause, you know, bestiality is gross. I didn't think I needed to actually say it; I assumed it was already an established agreement amongst us."

"Then what kind of cow did you think we were talking about?" Oliver asked.

"I don't know, a special one? Like, a cow that humans genetically engineered to be smarter and sexier. A prodigy of the cows, if you will. And maybe he walks upright on two legs, and maybe he's really funny and interesting and good at conversation. Maybe he takes me out for dinner and buys me an expensive car." Gem gave Oliver and Toni a significant look. "And maybe he's thicc! In that specific hypothetical scenario, yes, Oliver, I would fuck that cow!"

"Oh sweet Lord," Oliver's mother squeaked from the doorway, and everyone spun to face her.

"Hey, Maggie," Gem chirped. "I cannot wait to see the cows!"

Maggie paled. "I made lemonade," she whispered, gesturing vaguely before she turned and walked away.

"No, Mom, wait!" Oliver called after her. "Gem didn't mean it like that. There's context! He doesn't wanna have sex with the cows."

Understanding dawned, and all eight of Gem's eyes widened dramatically as he tripped out of the room with a screeched, "I would never molest the cows, Maggie. They're too beautiful and majestic for that!"

"That doesn't help his case," Liel said.

"Makes it sound like he actually does wanna molest the cows," Toni said.

Rusty placed the picture of Oliver and his award-winning heifer back on the dresser, then he chuckled. "This is gonna be a good weekend."