Work Text:
Cher’s pink satin heels click along the floor of their Beverly Hills high rise apartment — a graduation gift from Daddy — as Josh rushes to take the bags of Chinese food and her briefcase from her arms.
“Dinner and then candlelighting,” he reads her immediately, and receives an utterly exhausted nod, accompanied by a small ugh of the same.
He put in the order over the phone earlier today; she picked it up on the way home from the office.
Their kitchen table is covered in case files, but he still manages to find a space for all the bags. What would have surprised the Cher of a decade ago the most about this, the one who fell in love with him in the first place, is that some of these cases are hers. Josh is the environmental lawyer he always wanted to be, but Cher pulled an Elle Woods and she’s got her own law firm in the city with Dionne and Tai; they do corporate, like Daddy. She never would have guessed, not even!
She and Tai have been hard at work today, but for tonight she can relax. It’s Christmas day, but that doesn’t mean much to her or Tai. They’re both Jewish, so they came to the office early and pored over their most demanding case together so Dionne could have the day off. They’re billing at $500 an hour and their corporate client needs results after an emergency motion from the judge, so Sunday and holiday or not, they’re in the office. Still, they've both made sure to leave by sundown — this year, it’s the first night of Chanukah too.
Exhausted, Cher slumps immediately over onto the couch, where she sees a DVD already out — Josh’s choice, Grease 2, is just the vibe. This isn’t the night for cinema. She’s too exhausted to speak, but she watches Josh quietly and with love, and can’t help the little sighs she exhales as he serves their dinner: little styrofoam cups of warm hot and sour soup and takeout containers of fried gyoza, scallion pancakes, garlic eggplant, and orange tofu. It’s a perfect blend: fried foods for Chanukah and classic Chinese on Christmas. She curls herself into her husband when he comes back from the kitchen with the last of their dinner things, chopsticks and napkins.
Tired as she is, Cher still digs into the food with gusto. When they finish, they pause the movie for a bit as she drags herself behind Josh to light the menorah, the blessings rolling off her tongue as easily now as they did when she was a girl. The menorah lit brightly and the room dark, they return to the couch and press play on the remote again.
She sings half-heartedly along to Cool Rider, swaying from side to side and pointing at Josh when the chorus comes on. It’s hardly a Grammy performance, but Josh looks at Cher as if she is the greatest he’s ever seen, eyes full of the same love and desire he showed her on the sofa, on the stairs, when she caught the bouquet, and every day of their lives since.
Cher shrugs out of her top and reaches into the end table drawer for the lube. Josh tugs his jeans off and shifts to give her easier access as she twists open the lid of the bottle. He makes a stupid quip about Chanukah oil. Cher can’t help grinning even as she smacks his ass for it. After all, they have an agreement. Soon enough, his voice is full of nothing but breathy moans against her lips as she works him open, candles flickering in the window behind.