Work Text:
“How do I look?” John says, walking into the bathroom where Roger was changing, his hands held out to his sides to stop them from flapping, a big smile on his face.
Roger looked up from where he stood, his hands fiddling with the pants he was trying to put on. His eyes went sparkling bright and his lips turned upwards into a huge grin. “Oh, Deacy. You look absolutely adorable,” he said, abandoning his pants to walk over to his husband who couldn’t stop beaming.
John was dressed up in a brilliant Mickey Mouse costume. There was a Mickey Mouse ear headband gracing his white, barely there hair. He had on a shirt that looked like a classic Mickey 3-piece suit top with a golden bowtie and red pants with two golden pockets in the front. Dangling from the front of one pocket were the iconic gloves that he refused to wear, gloves being a sensory no-no. And still, he was superbly charming. Especially with how deep his smile lines were from how hard he was smiling.
“Too adorable,” Roger said, going in for a hug and kiss. Their protruding bellies touched before their lips did, which was fine by the both of them. With time, their bodies changed and grew, which only meant there was more of each other to love.
John giggled into the kiss before pulling away. “And you look delightful as always. This cowboy getup suits you,” John said, taking Roger’s wrinkled and liver spotted hands into his, taking a step back to admire Roger’s costume. He had on brown cowboy boots, bright blue denim pants, an obnoxious golden belt buckle, a yellow button up, a cow hide vest with a golden star pinned on and a red bandana. All he needed was his cowboy hat and he’d be the best Woody from Toy Story.
“You think so?” Roger said, pretending to be coy as he dug the tip of his boot into the tiled floor. John chuckled and nodded.
“The most handsomest Woody I’ve ever seen,” John said, kissing the top of Roger’s head, where a hairline used to be some decades back. Roger blushed.
“Oh you. Distracting me as always. Go sit down while I finish up here,” Roger said, waving John off to finish styling what little hair he had left.
John snickered but scampered off to sit and wait. After 40 years, he was very used to waiting on Roger to get ready. He played with his hands and chirped excitedly whenever he caught a glance of himself in the mirror.
Some fifteen minutes later, Roger walked out of the bathroom, his cowboy hat donned, a rugged look on his face. “I’m ready,” he said in a deep voice, failing at a western accent.
“Woody doesn’t talk like a real cowboy,” John said but he still applauded his husband for the effort.
Roger snorted. “Oh, right. Well, come on, love. While the night is still young,” he said, bouncing a little bit, his knees no longer able to support boisterous jumping like in his youth. His fingers twiddled eagerly.
John rubbed his face, happy noises coming from the back of his throat. “Where to first, Rog?” He asked, getting up to hold Roger’s hand.
As Roger led him to the garage, he said as he chuckled, “The same as always!”
♚
“Almost there,” Roger said, patting John’s knee as his husband rocked excitedly. It took a lot of willpower to not start rocking too, but he was the one driving and he wanted to finish the night in one piece.
“Drive faster!” John said, a childish tone to his voice. He clutched his bag closer to him, rocking faster.
Roger snorted. “You want to go to jail for Halloween?”
“Maybe!”
Roger rolled his eyes at John’s antics, shaking his head. John’s odd sense of humor was still quite strange after all these years. Roger loved it.
“No prison time for you. We’re here,” Roger said as he pulled into the first trick or treating spot of the night. He waited for the grand gates to open before pulling into the long winding driveway, the two of them growing giddier as the minutes passed. Finally, Roger parked the car, and despite their aching joints, they both scrambled outside the car, their bags in hand.
“You ring the doorbell.”
“No, you ring the doorbell.”
“No yo-“
Roger and John’s bickering was interrupted by the door opening.
Freddie screamed at his two best friends, a gigantic candy bowl held in front of his jutted out stomach, his few white hairs mussed up. “Look at you two! Oh my god! Look at you! Roger, are you Andy from that toy movie? Or was it Buzzard? Oh my word! You look so damn cute! And look at you, Deacy! Mickey for the tenth year in a row. I could just eat you up!” he screeched, clearly enthused.
Roger and John went shy at the praise, the two of them rocking on their heels, their cheeks and ears going pink.
“Wait! You guys didn’t say the thing. Say it!” Freddie ordered, somehow more excited than the other two.
“Trick or treat!” John and Roger yelled, holding out their bags. Freddie erupted into pleased giggles, digging his hand into the bowl to toss in a ridiculous amount of candy into both their bags.
Freddie ran off, still laughing, as he did every year. A new face popped up. Jim, in a cat costume. The cat costume was new. He didn’t seem thrilled about it.
“Look at you two. Handsome as always. Here’s some candy. Don’t eat it all at once okay?” Jim said, throwing in more candy from his bowl.
Phoebe showed up after Jim, chuckling loudly at Roger’s costume. “I’m assuming this wasn’t your first choice?” he said as he handed them even more candy. John smiled innocently. He may have persuaded Roger to go as something Disney related. Maybe.
Last came Joe to the door, holding a cat. “I was making you guys some brownies, but they got burnt. And it wasn’t MY fault,” he said, projecting his voice for someone inside the house to hear. Freddie’s cackles echoed.
“So, I brought this cat as an apology. I’m sure he’ll fit inside the bag,” he said, pretending to put the cat in John’s bag. Freddie screamed, hobbling back to the door.
“Joe, put Miss Tiffany the 3rd back inside! He’ll catch a chill!” Freddie said as he pushed Joe aside, leaning against the door frame. He smiled fondly at his lifelong best friends.
“Sorry about that. Anyways, you two boys look brilliant. Who’s your next stop?”
“Miami!” John said, always excited to go to Jim’s house. His wife always made them cookies. And she never burned them.
“Ooo! Have fun then! Don’t stay up too late! Or eat all the candy! You know how sensitive Roger’s stomach is these days,” Freddie said, pinching his nose and sticking his tongue out before guffawing. Roger glared at him playfully, him and John walking back to their car with a wave. Freddie watched them walk away before closing his door. Another successful Halloween! At least to him! Jim wasn’t too happy!
♚
“Trick or treat!” The two older men called out, grinning when the door opened, and two faces popped out.
Jim and his wife Claudia both had themselves a giggle looking at John and Roger, their costumes adorable as they usually were. Some years Roger was daring and wore something frightening, but this year he was as cute as a button.
“Oh my. You two look darling,” Claudia said, holding a ready-made bag of cookies. It looked like this year was going to be a sugar cookie Halloween.
“That blasted mouse again, John? How many costumes of that mouse are even out there?” Jim said with a chuckle, an arm around Claudia’s waist.
“I like predictability,” John said, shaking his head a little happily. He knew Jim wasn’t being mean. It was almost a gag him and his friends had. How many years in a row could he go as Mickey. John hadn’t run out of costumes in over a decade.
The four of them giggled. Claudia dropped the cookies in their bags before they were sent on their merry ways.
♚
“Crystal, you can’t be bloody serious,” Roger said as him and John looked into their bags in disbelief.
“I forgot to get candy, okay? Shouldn’t you be happy?,” Crystal said, waving his hand dismissively.
“Not at all. That isn’t our thing…anymore. Why do you have so many joints lying around?” Roger said, poking a hand inside to pick up one of the many blunts he was just gifted.
“Arthritis,” Crystal said, winking.
John busted into titters, holding up a joint. “Roger, let-“
“Absolutely not. You get paranoid every damn time,” Roger said, snatching the joint away from John. John frowned. Crystal bent forward, laughing way too hard. They both had a feeling he was ‘above’ the influence, so to speak.
They left Crystal laughing, tears running down his face. He did something like this nearly every year. Why did they bother to come?
“Put that down!” Roger hissed, slapping the blunt from John’s hands as he tried to drive.
“Look who’s acting paranoid now,” John said, still tickled by this.
Roger grumbled.
♚
“Jesus Christ,” John whispered when Brian opened the door in his BriBorg costume.
“Hello, humans,” Brian said in a robotic voice, holding a bowl of candy stiffly to enhance the robot schtick.
“I changed my mind, I’m going home,” Roger said, actually walking back to the car.
Brian took off his mask, saying as if it weren’t obvious, “Roger! It’s just me! Brian!”
Roger walked back. “I couldn’t tell,” he said flatly.
Brian smiled a shit eating smile. “I think you could.”
“Just give us the candy, old man,” Roger said, holding out his bag, having no time for his best friend’s foolishness. John mimicked, holding out his bag too.
“Old man!” He echoed.
“Children are so rude these days. Sheesh,” Brian said as he poured candy into their bags. “No respect for their elders.”
Roger only smiled when his bag was sagging from how heavy it was. John groaned trying to keep his from falling to the ground.
“There you go, you brats,” Brian said, adding, “You two look quite cute, by the way. Not as cute as me of course,” he said, patting his hair.
“Looks like you’ve been spending way too much time with Fred,” Roger noted.
“No one is as cute as me,” John said.
Roger looked over to him affectionately, cupping his cheek. “That is very true, babe.” He pressed his lips to John, giving him a quick, chaste kiss. When they pulled away, Brian was gagging.
“Get out of here before I call the cops on you for soliciting,” Brian said shooing them off. His disgusted façade faded once they got into their cars. He grinned widely and waved at them as they backed out of his driveway.
♚
Roger and John marched inside their houses, bags practically dragging on the floor behind them as they waddled into the living room. They set the bags down before they got to work fishing for the stuff they liked.
John had his bag of cookies, rolos and marvelous creation bars littered around him. Roger also had his cookies too, alongside Terry’s orange chocolates and Lion bars strewn about.
After their search was over, the two of them sat on the floor by their loot, not an easy task at their age and looked at each other.
“Same as always?” John asked.
“Same as always.” Roger replied.
They grabbed their bags that were still ridiculously full and hauled them outside.
There were a few kids in the neighborhood, and they could always depend on Uncle Roger and John to give them the best candy around.
“Thank you!” A little girl dressed in a fairy outfit said before skipping off to another house. The two of them smiled at her, resting in their chairs, the bags between their feet.
“She was cute,” John said idly, reaching down in his bag to grab more candy.
“She was,” Roger chuckled, hands rubbing his stomach.
“Oh my god,” John suddenly said quietly. Roger looked over.
“Oh my god,” Roger said, looking at the joint held between John’s fingers.
They had completely forgotten about Crystals’ ‘presents’ tainting their bags.
“Oh my god.”
“Oh my god.”
