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Halloween was one of those days of the year where the crazies came out to play, similar to nights of full moons. All the people in costumes roaming the street just made it worse.
A lot worse, Phil reminded himself as he unlocked the front door. He’d been running around town non-stop since he went on shift this morning.
(One of these days HR was going to come after Captain Fury for all the overtime Phil racked up. Phil was looking forward for that day.)
The madness that was Halloween wasn’t new; Phil’d been a cop for long enough to know what to expect. It didn’t mean he had to like it. He’d been dealing with theft and disorderly conduct and general shenanigans of drunk college kids all day, when all he wanted was to go trick or treating with Clint and Charlie. When he’d whined complained to Clint that morning, his husband had arched an eyebrow at him and told him it’d be okay and to go catch some bad guys.
Somedays, Phil didn’t know what kind of good deed he did in his past life to deserve someone like Clint.
The apartment was quiet when he stepped through the door and took off his shoes—almost too quiet. The living room was dark, as was the adjoining kitchen. Phil frowned. It was past eleven; most trick-or-treating would’ve been done by nine. Clint and Charlie should be home.
Phil was about to call out to Clint when he heard a sound coming from their bedroom. He shrugged off his jacket, leaving it and his tie over the arm of the couch, before padding towards the source.
The door to their bedroom was only half shut. The room was dark but the flashing light from the TV was bright enough for Phil to see that Clint and Charlie were in the middle of the bed, Charlie in Clint’s lap, with both of them wrapped up in the thick duvet Clint’d broken out just last week. Their dog, Lucky, was dozing in a heap at the end of the bed.
A screeching roar accompanied a nasty looking monster on TV, and Charlie shrieked, burying his head into Clint’s arms. Lucky barked once before scrambling up the bed, bumping straight into Clint’s thighs and tumbled over. Phil couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face.
Pushing away from where he was leaning against the door frame, Phil moved towards the bed, sliding under the duvet so he could squeeze in next to Clint.
“Papa!” Charlie yelled enthusiastically, climbing out of Clint’s lap into Phil’s. “You’re home!”
“Oomf,” Phil huffed as Charlie landed on his thigh. “And you’re not in bed.”
“Daddy said we could stay up and watch just one scawwy movie,” Charlie said, grinning, the smile he inherited from Clint so wide and open it made Phil’s heart flutter with love for his family. “I’ve been really good all week!”
“Hmm,” Phil hummed, shifting Charlie so he wasn’t putting all his weight on the wrong part of Phil’s leg. “Well, I suppose if daddy said it was okay…”
“Please?” Charlie looked up at him, with the same puppy dog eyes like Clint’s that Phil never could say no to.
“Oh, fine. You win.” Phil sighed, and Charlie whooped. “But only for tonight.”
There was more monsters popping up on the screen, Charlie screamed every time but continued to watch anyway with wide eyes. Phil watched amusedly at their son’s antics. The boy cried bloody murder every time they watch scary movies but he loved it regardless of how scary it got. And he never had nightmares after watching one, so Clint and Phil decided that a scary movie once in a while couldn’t hurt.
“Evil Dead?” Phil asked after a few minutes, finally figured out which movie it was. He wrapped an arm around Clint’s shoulder to pull him close.
“Yep. Thought I’d introduce Charlie boy here to the classics,” Clint twisted his body a bit before finding a comfortable position in Phil’s arms. He leaned in for a kiss, “How was work?”
“Terrible. Couldn’t wait to be home,” Phil answered truthfully. “I love my job but sometimes…” he shook his head. “I’m taking Halloween off next year.”
“Right, I’ve heard that one before.” Clint chuckled.
“Gotta go trick-or-treating once with our son before he’s too old for us to go with him.” Phil grinned, nudging Charlie. “Isn’t that right, buddy?”
Charlie just turned to look at him, still grinning wide. Phil felt the tension he’d been carrying all day just melt away at the sight of his family. He leaned against Clint, letting their bodies hold each other up.
Later, they fell asleep in a big pile, Clint in the middle of the bed between Charlie and Phil and covered by the thick duvet with the dog lying at their feet. As Phil drifted off, the tip of an idea formed in his head. Maybe he should talk to Fury about cutting back his case load. He wanted to spend more time with his husband and son. He loved his job, but he didn’t want to miss anymore important milestones in his son’s life.
Clint muttered something incoherent in his sleep, turning to his side to snuggle back closer against Phil, and the thought was abandoned as Phil reached to wrap his arm around Clint’s waist. He buried his face into the back of Clint’s neck, breathing in his husband’s comforting scent, and let the darkness pull him down.