As Dean stood at the doorstep to his family’s spacious yet comfortable home in the suburbs, he could sense the nervous energy coming from the boy next to him. His coat was much too big for Gavin’s small frame, and even with the sleeves rolled up, they still covered his hands, but it was better than sending him out in that sweatshirt.

“You don’t have to be nervous, kid. We always have company over for Thanksgiving.”

Gavin gave him a withering look. “I’m not nervous.”

“Whatever you say.” Dean knocked on the door and when his mother answered, he could see the color drain from Gavin’s face. She was a petite older omega, but her energy was big enough to fill a room.

“Well, hello!” she gushed, leaning down to give the boy a crushing hug. “You must be Gavin. We’re so glad you could join us!”

Gavin stood frozen and shellshocked as Claudia turned and tackled her son. Christmas music was blasting in the living room and Dean could already see that his extended family was packed in. He caught sight of his two brothers and their mates, along with a few aunts and uncles he hadn’t seen since last Christmas, and a few people he didn’t even recognize. Claudia had always had a habit of bringing home “strays,” as her late husband put it. It looked like Dean was carrying on the family tradition.

“Come on in before you freeze to death,” she said, pulling them both inside. She took Gavin’s jacket and hung it up as the others turned their attention to the newcomers.

“Gavin, I’m Claudia, Dean’s mother. This is Uncle Larry, Uncle Dan, Aunt Esther, cousin Rita, my other sons, David and Antonio, and of course, Abuelita,” she said, smiling at the older woman sipping cider in the back of the room.

Abuelita scowled. “How is the poor kid supposed to remember all of that, Claudia?”

Claudia scowled. “Don’t pay attention to her, she’s just cranky because she knows I’m gonna kick her tush at canasta later.”

“What’s canasta?” asked Gavin.

“Don’t worry about it, kid. Come on, let’s get some grub,” Dean said, leading him over to the buffet table. Gavin’s eyes widened as he saw the spread Claudia and Dean’s grandmother had laid out. The kitchen looked like a culinary war between Mexico and Italy, and Dean only realized how unusual their family traditions probably were through an outsider’s eyes.

“That’s a lot of food,” said Gavin.

“Help yourself, there’s more where that came from,” Claudia said with a smile. “Once you’ve got a plate, feel free to go into the den. The other kids are playing some guitar villain game.”

“Pretty sure you got that wrong, mom,” Dean said dryly.

Claudia gave his arm a playful swat. Once Gavin had wandered off with a plate piled high with food, she leaned in. “That poor thing. What happened that he ended up alone on Thanksgiving?”

“It’s a long story and I don’t know all of it,” Dean admitted. “He ran away from his foster home, and there wasn’t anyone else who could take him in.”

“Well, I’m glad you brought him here,” she said, casting a troubled glance down the hall. “What happens after this?”

“Haven’t really thought ahead that far,” Dean admitted.

“And you said his adoptive parents are in jail?”

“Doesn’t look like they’ll be getting out anytime soon, either,” Dean said somberly.

Claudia’s brow furrowed in worry. “That’s terrible.”

“Mi hermano!” David bellowed, trapping his brother in a headlock. “Nine years on the force and he still can’t predict a sneak attack.”

“Would you knock it off?” Dean groaned, leaning away to break free as their other brother came to join the fray.

“Look who showed up,” Antonio said, grinning as he stood with his arm around his pregnant wife. David’s husband Lan ventured over, scowling at the horseplay. The omega was an accountant and as straight-laced as they came, and sometimes Dean wasn’t even sure how they’d gotten together. They had four children together, so he figured something about their marriage had to be working.

“This is a party, not a wrestling match,” Lan complained. “You’re going to take out the card table.”

“Better listen to your mate, before Dean makes a citizen’s arrest,” David said wryly.

Dean gave him a half-hearted shove. “I’m a cop. It would be a real arrest, dipshit.”

“What did I say about profanity during the holidays?” Claudia huffed.

“Just say it in Spanish and she’ll never know,” Antonio whispered.

“I heard that!”

Dean sighed, excusing himself from the loving squabbles of his immediate family to go check on Gavin. He folded his arms and leaned in the doorway, smiling as he watched Gavin taking his turn at the game alongside one of Dean’s nephews. The kid who hadn’t cracked a smile since leaving the station was suddenly lit up and he actually seemed like his age. He fit in well, and Dean found himself contemplating what he was going to do if Henrietta couldn’t find another placement for him between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Dean loved his family, but he found himself using his work as an excuse to skip out on holidays and gatherings when he could. It wasn’t the volume of their get-togethers, or the danger of being pressured to eat until he popped. It was the fact that every relative his age, from his brothers to his second cousins, was happily mated to the partner of his dreams. Hell, his cousin Joel had two omegas to dote on. Out of all of them, Dean had always been the one who was set in the knowledge that one day, he wanted a mate and a family of his own.

He’d always thought the one would come before the other, but maybe fate had other plans. Sure, there were nights he didn’t feel like making sure every food group was represented on his dinner plate, and he could probably stand to get an actual table and chairs, but his place was big enough and he was financially stable. Maybe it wasn’t an accident that this kid had shown up out of nowhere with nowhere to go and no family to call his own.

It was the kind of gut instinct that Dean had always relied on in his career, and it had yet to lead him astray. He still wasn’t ready to think about any long-term commitment, and if there was a better foster situation out there that would give Gavin a chance at the two loving parents he deserved, he wasn’t going to stand in the way, but he’d already made the decision to open his heart if the need arose.

At least through Christmas. After all, how hard could fostering one twelve-year-old kid on a temporary basis really be?