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The doorbell rings again. Adam smiles, pulls down his mask and grabs the tin of spooky cookies he baked for the occasion.
“Good eeeeeevening!” he says theatrically as he opens the door, his voice low and rumbling, and he holds out the tin for the miniature witches, vampires, mummies, Elsas and Supermen that have come calling since dusk.
But when he peers through his mask, there are no children at his door. Just a ghost.
A ghost of his past.
“Trick or treat?” Kurt asks shyly. He has styled up his hair in two peaks with a streak of white, and has donned his Phantom cape over a deep red shirt and black dress pants for a make-shift Dracula costume.
Adam is speechless.
“Come on now, don’t make me egg your door,” Kurt jokes nervously.
“Um,” Adam mumbles, looking down at his tin. He is pretty sure Kurt isn’t here for his cookies. “Would you like to come in?”
“Yes,” Kurt says, his smile more genuine now. It stirs things inside Adam he had almost forgotten. He steps aside and lets Kurt pass. His hand goes up to remove his mask, but then he reconsiders. Depending on what Kurt is here to do (finally pick up the sheet music he left before they broke up?) he might need a game-face. He watches as Kurt looks around his place.
“Same old Casa de Crawford,” he offers. He tries to see his apartment as Kurt might, and winces. It’s been a while since he has taken the time to clean. “Except for the cobwebs obviously, those are purely for Halloween decorational purposes,” he adds.
“Very realistic,” Kurt comments, the corners of his mouth curling up. “This one even has a live spider in it.”
“Well, I spared no expense, of course. Kids these days, you know? A plastic gimmick isn’t enough anymore. Spoiled brats.”
His oven dings. A second batch of spooky cookies is ready.
Kurt takes a deep breath. “Yeah, you are definitely spoiling them. Are those gingersnap witches?”
Adam smiles and opens the oven, filling his apartment with a delicious spicy scent. “I saw the cutter and I couldn’t resist.” He nods at his sink, where the flying witch cookie cutter still sits on top of a flour-dusted cutting board.
“They smell delicious.”
Adam beams, but isn’t sure how to continue their conversation. He could probably ramble on about all the cookie cutters he had almost bought before he chose the witch, but he doesn’t want to bore Kurt. At the same time, he wants Kurt to stay, so he has to say something.
“How’ve you been? You look…” Adam hesitates. Gorgeous. Handsome. Breathtaking. There was a time he didn’t think twice about offering Kurt every superlative in his vocabulary. But that, like his cleaning, has been a while. “Halloweenish,” he chooses carefully.
Kurt looks down on his outfit and bites his lip. “I was on my way to this club for a themed singles night, and then I passed by your place….” he trailed off, possibly a bit embarrassed.
Adam knows he’ll probably make it worse if he asks, but he has to know. “What about Blaine?”
Kurt nods, like Adam is following a script he has prepared. To give him time, Adam busies himself by taking out the tray of cookies and lifting them carefully onto a plate for cooling.
“I broke off the engagement two months ago. According to Dr Phil, ‘couples who can’t go a week without fighting should reconsider their relationship.’” Kurt paused. “We couldn’t go a day.”
“Oh.” Adam knows he is supposed to say he’s sorry, but he’s not- and he doubts Kurt came to his place to hear post-breakup comfort lies. Lost for words, again. The awkward silence between them is broken by the ringing of the bell.
“Excuse me,” Adam says, and picks up his cookie tin.
“TRICK OR TREEEEAT!” several kids yell excitedly, rattling their plastic pumpkin baskets. Adam greets them enthusiastically and compliments them on their costumes. With a nod at the parents hovering in the hallway, he offers them cookies while he lists the ingredients. When one boy lowers his hand from the tin disappointedly, Adam reaches behind the door and offers him a fluorescent glow stick instead. The boy’s eyes light up and he waves it at his mother excitedly.
They leave in a loud bustle of scary rhymes and shouting, and it is then that Adam notices Kurt has joined him at the door.
“That was so sweet,” Kurt says.
Adam shrugs. “I read about those as an alternative to sweets in some magazine and I had some left over from a party. I still wanted to bake, but I figured in case someone was allergic-”
“I think you made that kid’s night.” Kurt has a peculiar look on his face. He wants something, but Adam isn’t sure what.
“Do you want one?” he asks, feeling silly.
Kurt smiles. “Yes.” He holds out his arm. “Trick or treat.”
Adam feels oddly ceremonial as he bends one of the sticks until it starts to glow, and fastens it around Kurt’s hand as a bracelet.
“Now you’ve made my night,too,” Kurt says softly. “Can I give you a treat in return?”
“Um…Okay,” Adam replies, watching the neon bracelet reflect in Kurt’s eyes.
Kurt reaches up and pushes Adam’s mask up into his hair. He leaves his hand there, at the back of Adam’s head, and pulls him closer for a kiss. The cookie tin is pressed awkwardly between them, but neither of them mind.
“Are you sure this isn’t a trick?” Adam whispers against Kurt’s lips. Kurt doesn’t reply, but he manages to close Adam’s front door with his heel without breaking contact.