Archive of Our Own

The sheets were warm, heavy in the way that only came when you’d finally found that one exact position after tossing and turning for twenty minutes. Theo was just about there — eyelids starting to flutter shut, body sinking deeper into the mattress, breath syncing with the steady rhythm of Liam’s beside him. The kind of quiet where the world almost falls away, and for a second, he let himself think maybe he’d actually get some decent sleep tonight.

Then Liam rolled over, face buried into the pillow but voice startlingly awake.

“We should host a Halloween party.”

Theo’s eyes cracked open, his half-formed dream scattering like startled birds. “…What?” His voice came out rough, caught between sleep and disbelief.

“A Halloween party,” Liam said again, clearer this time. “For us. The pack. You know, like—like normal people do. Costumes, snacks, scary movies…all of it.”

Theo blinked at the ceiling, willing his brain to catch up. He turned his head slowly, finding Liam’s wide, eager blue eyes glinting in the dark. The kid was too awake. Too bright. Theo groaned and dragged a hand over his face.

“It’s…barely October,” he muttered, voice muffled against his palm.

“Yeah, so?” Liam shot back immediately. “That gives us time to plan.“

Theo let his hand fall to the side, catching a glimpse of Liam’s stubborn set jaw. Great. He knew that look. Once Liam got an idea lodged in his head, it was like trying to wrestle a mountain out of the ground.

“Why do I feel like you’ve been thinking about this for weeks and you just waited until I was almost asleep to say it?” Theo asked, rolling onto his side to face him properly.

“Because you don’t argue as much when you’re half asleep,” Liam said, and then smiled in a way that made Theo’s chest feel both too tight and too soft.

Unfair. Completely unfair.

Theo stared at him for a long moment, trying to summon the will to say no, but the truth was, he couldn’t. Not when Liam was looking at him like that — like he was offering not just some dumb party, but a slice of something normal they’d both missed out on.

“You’re crazy,” Theo said finally, but there wasn’t any real bite behind it.

“So that’s a yes?”

Theo huffed out a laugh. “It’s a ‘we’ll talk about it in the morning’.”

Liam grinned, triumphant, and burrowed closer under the blanket until his head rested against Theo’s shoulder. His curls tickled Theo’s jaw, warm and grounding, and Theo let his arm shift until it curled loosely around Liam’s waist.

“You’re not gonna regret it,” Liam mumbled, voice already drifting toward sleep now that he’d gotten his way. “It’ll be fun. You’ll see.”

Theo shut his eyes again, willing himself not to smile too hard. “We’ll see,” he echoed, though privately, he had a feeling Liam was right. He always was.

*ੈ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆🕸️⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ *ੈ *ੈ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆🕸️⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ *ੈ *ੈ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆🕸️⋆ཋྀ ˚

Theo stumbled down the stairs the next morning, rubbing sleep from his eyes and hoping, against reason, that last night had been some weird hallucination brought on by too much late-night reading and the gradual settling of his thoughts into Liam’s presence.

And then there was Liam, standing on a stool, laptop perched precariously against the spice rack, scrolling furiously while muttering to himself. Flour streaked his cheek where some baking attempt had gone awry, and his hair was in that half-wild, half-sleepy state that Theo had come to both love and mock.

Theo paused at the top of the stairs, taking him in. The way Liam chewed the inside of his cheek, the tiny hum he made whenever he scrolled to something interesting, the casual tilt of his shoulders that somehow screamed “I am completely consumed by this but I am having the best time ever” — it was too much.

Theo blinked twice, trying to remind himself that this was normal, normal like pancakes and coffee and quiet mornings, and that he wasn’t supposed to be falling a little bit further every time Liam got like this.

“Morning,” Theo said, voice low, testing the waters.

Liam didn’t even look up. “Mm,” was the answer, one eyebrow raised, eyes glued to the screen.

Theo crossed the kitchen slowly, eyeing the laptop. “Tell me that’s not a Pinterest board.”

“It’s not a Pinterest board,” Liam said immediately, tone defensive.

Theo leaned over his shoulder. “It’s a Pinterest board.”

Liam swatted him lightly in the stomach without looking up. “It’s research.”

Theo took a long sip of coffee, which he’d snagged from the pot, and hummed around the rim. “Research into…what? How to cover the entire house in fake cobwebs until your mom yells at you?”

Liam finally tore his gaze away from the screen, blue eyes sharp with indignation. “Halloween food ideas,” he corrected, as if that explained everything. “Do you know how many options there are? We’re talking troll soup, black bread coffins, caramel-dipped candy apples, jello brains—”

“Brains,” Theo cut in, deadpan. “Great. That’s not creepy at all.”

“It’s supposed to be creepy,” Liam shot back, crossing his arms like Theo was missing something obvious. “It’s Halloween.”

Theo arched a brow, unimpressed, but there was no heat behind it. “You realize you’re making a list of foods that no one besides Mason is going to eat, right?”

“That’s not true,” Liam argued, jabbing a finger toward him. “Stiles will eat anything if it’s put in front of him. Malia will eat twice as much as him just to prove a point. Lydia…okay, Lydia probably won’t touch anything green or jiggly, but that’s fine, she’ll drink the cider.”

Theo bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling, which only made it worse when Liam leaned closer. “And you,” he added, a soft smile on his lips, “you’ll eat it because you’ll feel bad if I made it and nobody didn’t.”

Theo gave him a flat look over the rim of his mug. “That’s emotional manipulation.”

“Works every time.”

Theo tried to hold his glare, but Liam’s grin broke through it like sunlight through cracks, and suddenly Theo was the one looking away, muttering into his coffee. “This is so ridiculous.”

“Not it’s not,” Liam said, hopping down from the stool and immediately nearly tripping over his own feet. Theo’s hand shot out automatically, steadying him with a grip at his waist, and Liam shot him a quick grin before sliding back to the counter.

Theo let his hand fall away, slow, almost reluctant, and dragged the stool out with his foot so he could sit. He leaned an elbow on the counter, watching as Liam clicked through page after page like he was preparing for a thesis defense rather than a themed party.

“Okay,” Theo said after a moment, voice careful. “Let’s say you actually pull this off. Decorations, food, the whole thing. What then? We let the entire pack invade your mom’s kitchen and trash the place? Because, spoiler alert, that’s what’s gonna happen.”

Liam wrinkled his nose, clearly already a step ahead. “We’ll do most of it in the woods. Or here, but, like, outside. We can string lights, put the food on tables, set up speakers. Then later, glow-in-the-dark paint fight. It’ll be perfect.”

Theo tilted his head, eyeing him. “You’ve thought about this way too much for it to be a random idea you had at midnight.”

Liam froze, blinking once, then twice, before muttering, “I…might’ve been thinking about it since last year.”

Theo barked out a laugh, almost spilling his coffee. “Last year? You’ve been sitting on this for a year?”

Liam shrugged, cheeks pink. “I like Halloween, okay?”

Theo blinked at him, caught somewhere between exasperation and something warmer that made his chest feel like it was filled with too much sunlight. Before he could say anything, movement on the stairs caught his attention.

“Morning, you two,” Jenna called, voice sleepy but soft, appearing at the top of the staircase in a faded robe, hair mussed from sleep. Right behind her, David padded down with an empty coffee mug in his hand.

Liam immediately perked up, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Mom! Dad! You’re just in time. We’re making—uh—ideas for Halloween food! And decorations! And glow-in-the-dark paint fights! And—” He trailed off mid-sentence, eyes lighting on Theo, who raised an eyebrow.

Jenna laughed, soft and warm, leaning against the railing. “Glow-in-the-dark paint fights? Liam, honey, it’s barely October.”

“It’s for…fun,” Liam said, gesturing vaguely at the laptop with its hundreds of tabs open, all of them brightly colored and covered in Halloween food ideas. “Theo helped me with the plan.”

Theo blinked at Liam, slow and deliberate, because helped was a strong word. He hadn’t so much “helped” as he had been ambushed with the idea at midnight, when he was too tired to form full sentences, let alone argue. His contribution so far was coffee and sarcasm, neither of which counted as planning.

“I did?” Theo asked dryly, raising his brows at Liam.

Liam’s grin widened, bright and sheepish in a way that made it hard for Theo to keep his face neutral. “Yeah. You said it was a good idea.”

Theo opened his mouth, ready to object, but Liam’s mom was smiling at them both with that soft, indulgent expression, and David was already moving toward the coffee pot with a muttered, “This I gotta see,” so Theo closed his mouth again.

He narrowed his eyes at Liam instead, the kind of look that was supposed to say you’re going to pay for this later. But Liam only ducked his head, shoulders shaking with a silent laugh as he clicked another recipe open.

Jenna padded closer, peering at the screen over Liam’s shoulder. “What on earth is troll soup?” she asked, amused.

“Green soup,” Liam said immediately, like he’d been rehearsing. “It’s just food coloring, but it looks cool. And then there’s this bread—“

Theo couldn’t help it. He cut in, voice flat. “Black bread. He wants to shape them like coffins. He’s planning a funeral spread.”

Liam elbowed him lightly, not looking away from his mom. “It’s festive.”

Jenna hummed, her eyes dancing. “Festive,” she repeated, clearly entertained.

Theo smothered a laugh against his coffee mug, watching Liam try so hard to sound serious when he was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Just—” Jenna reached out, smoothing down Liam’s hair in that automatic mom way, “don’t destroy my kitchen in the process.”

Liam ducked, rolling his eyes but smiling. “We won’t.”

Theo snorted into his coffee. We absolutely will, he thought.

*ੈ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆🕸️⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ *ੈ *ੈ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆🕸️⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ *ੈ *ੈ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆🕸️⋆ཋྀ ˚

The shop smell clung to Theo even after he peeled off his jacket. Oil and gasoline, steel dust and the faint tang of burnt rubber that never really left no matter how hard he scrubbed. He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, catching on the edge of grease still ground into the creases of his skin, and sighed.

It had been a long day, the kind where every car seemed to come in with a new problem just when he thought he’d finished the last one. He wanted nothing more than a shower hot enough to burn the grime off and maybe ten minutes of quiet before Liam inevitably pulled him into whatever project-of-the-week he had lined up.

He kicked his boots off by the door, stretching his shoulders until they popped, before the sound of voices drifted from the living room.

Mason and Corey.

Theo frowned, running through the mental checklist of whether Liam had mentioned having them over today. He couldn’t remember.

He padded toward the living room, dragging a hand through his hair to push it back out of his face. The scene he walked into nearly made him turn around and go straight back out the door.

Liam was half sprawled on the couch, laptop balanced on his knees, eyes lit up like he was presenting a groundbreaking theory. Mason was perched on the armrest beside him, leaning in with his usual wide-eyed curiosity, and Corey was curled up in the recliner, scrolling on his phone but clearly listening.

On the coffee table between them sat an open bag of chips, two empty soda cans, and a notebook filled with messy handwriting and doodles.

“—I’m serious,” Liam was saying, voice high with excitement. “It’d be perfect. Me as Cap, Theo as Bucky, and then you guys can pick whoever—Iron Man, Spider-Man, whatever.”

Theo stopped dead in the doorway. “Excuse me?”

Three heads snapped up at once.

Liam’s grin spread immediately. “Oh! You’re home!”

Mason smothered a laugh behind his hand. “Hey, Theo.”

Corey just gave a small wave, though Theo caught the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement.

Theo narrowed his eyes, leaning against the frame. “Run that by me again.”

Liam patted the cushion beside him like that would somehow soften the blow. “We’re talking about costumes. For the party.”

Theo blinked at him. Slowly. “Costumes.”

“Yeah! Matching ones,” Liam said, excited. “We could all go as the Avengers. Me as Captain America, you as Bucky—”

“No,” Theo cut in immediately.

Liam’s mouth dropped open in mock offense. “You didn’t even let me finish!”

“I didn’t need to,” Theo shot back, crossing the room to drop his bag by the side table. “I’m not dressing up.”

Liam, undeterred, leaned forward. “Come on, it’d be fun! We never get to do stuff like this. Just once—”

Theo dropped onto the couch beside him with a groan, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I work ten hours a day covered in oil and engine grease, Liam. The last thing I want is to come home and squeeze into spandex so you can live out your comic book dreams.”

Liam nudged his knee against Theo’s, pout already forming. “It’s not about the spandex.”

Mason coughed pointedly. “It’s definitely about the spandex.”

Theo shot him a glare, but Mason just grinned at him.

“It’s about the vibe,” Liam insisted, jabbing a finger at Theo’s arm. “Captain America and Bucky Barnes. Come on. It’s perfect.”

Theo arched a brow. “Perfect for what? Embarrassing myself in front of the rest of the pack?”

“Perfect for us,” Liam said, eyes pleading. “Please, Theo?”

Theo hated how effective Liam’s voice could be when he said his name like that — soft, coaxing. He hated it even more when it happened after a ten-hour shift, when his body was already lead-heavy and his patience was stretched thinner than the grease-stained shirt clinging to his shoulders.

He leaned his head back against the couch and shut his eyes. “Liam…”

“Don’t ‘Liam’ me,” Liam shot back immediately, but there was no bite in it.

Theo sighed, long and heavy. “I’m tired.”

“You can be tired and still wear a costume,” Liam countered, undeterred. His knee nudged Theo’s again, insistent. “It’s not like I’m asking you to run laps around the preserve. It’s one night. One night, Theo.”

Theo cracked an eye open and leveled him with a look. “Spandex.”

Liam grinned, all teeth. “Not necessarily. We can modify.”

“Modify?”

“Yeah,” Mason jumped in, clearly enjoying himself. “Like—jeans, leather jacket, the metal arm sleeve thing. Easy.”

Theo wanted to argue. Really, he did. But Liam was watching him with those ridiculous beautiful blue eyes, all wide and pleading and unfair. It was like he’d been practicing in the mirror, the way his lips curved just enough to make him look soft and vulnerable.

Theo pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to talk about costumes right now. I want a shower. And then sleep. Preferably both without an audience.”

“Shower first,” Mason advised with mock-seriousness. “You smell like motor oil.”

Theo shot him a sharp look, but Liam laughed, and the sound did something traitorous to Theo’s tired bones.

“Come on,” Liam said again, quieter this time, almost careful. “Just…think about it? For me?”

Theo closed his eyes again. He could practically feel the words worming their way under his ribs, lodging in that soft, unprotected part of him he still wasn’t used to having.

God, Liam knew exactly what he was doing.

“Liam,” Theo tried again, voice rough with fatigue.

Liam leaned closer, enough that Theo could feel his breath against his temple. “I promise you don’t even have to do anything except stand there looking intimidating. Which—” he grinned — “you’re good at.”

Theo let out a humorless huff, though his lips twitched at the corners. “Flattery won’t work.”

“Yes it will,” Liam said confidently.

Theo finally turned his head to look at him fully. And there it was — that stubborn glint in Liam’s eyes, that reckless determination that used to drive Theo insane back when they were fighting each other, before it had turned into something that kept him there.

And Theo was just…so goddamn tired. Too tired to argue, too tired to give in. Stuck in that middle ground where every word felt heavy in his mouth.

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Why me?”

“Because you’re my boyfriend,” Liam said simply. “And Bucky’s Cap’s person. It just makes sense.”

“Doesn’t make sense to me,” Theo muttered finally. He pushed himself up off the couch with a groan, his knees popping, his whole body reminding him just how long he’d been standing under hoods and crawling under chassis all day.

Liam tilted his head back to look up at him, eyes still wide and bright. “So you’ll think about it?”

Theo gave him a look, sharp enough to cut through the room. “That’s not what I said.”

But Liam grinned anyway, victorious. “Close enough.”

Theo rolled his eyes and scooped his work bag off the floor. “Unbelievable.” He dragged himself toward the stairs, peeling off his grease-streaked overshirt as he went. “You better not leave a mess down here. Your mom’ll have both our asses if she wakes up to chip crumbs and soda rings all over the coffee table.”

Theo had barely made it three steps before Liam called after him, tone way too casual to be anything but suspicious.

“Uh…so…small detail,” Liam said, fingers drumming against the notebook on the coffee table. “Don’t be mad.”

Theo stopped mid-step, shoulders tightening. He turned slowly, eyes narrowing. “Why do I already hate this?”

“I, um…might’ve already ordered the costumes.”

Theo just stared at him. Blank, flat, no expression.

Mason snorted so hard soda nearly came out his nose. Corey pressed his knuckles to his mouth, eyes glinting with suppressed laughter.

Theo finally spoke, voice low, dangerous. “You. Did. What.”

“They were on sale!” Liam rushed out, hands flying up like that explained everything. “I figured it’d take you at least three weeks to agree, so I got ahead of it. Amazon Prime. Two-day shipping. They’ll be here Friday.”

Theo pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering “unbelievable” once more but he couldn’t stop the faintest curve tugging at his mouth as he trudged upstairs.

Because of course Liam had already bought the damn costumes.

*ੈ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆🕸️⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ *ੈ *ੈ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆🕸️⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ *ੈ *ੈ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆🕸️⋆ཋྀ ˚

The next morning, Theo woke to the sound of scratching. Not claws, not anything remotely supernatural — just the steady, relentless scrape of pen against paper.

He groaned before even opening his eyes. “Tell me you’re not still making lists.”

From the desk in the corner, Liam looked up guiltily. His curls stuck out in about ten different directions, a pencil jammed behind one ear, a pen clutched tight in his hand. The desk lamp threw shadows across his face, highlighting the crease between his brows.

“We need a list, Theo,” Liam said quickly, defensive in the way that told Theo it was exactly a list. “You can’t go shopping without it being organized.”

Theo shoved himself upright against the headboard, rubbing at his eyes. “It’s nine in the morning.”

“Exactly,” Liam said, as if that explained anything. He turned back to the paper, scribbling fast enough to nearly tear through the page. “Prime shopping hours.”

Theo squinted, finally catching sight of the paper in front of him. “That’s…a lot of writing.”

“It’s important,” Liam said, biting down on his lower lip as he added something with a flourish.

Theo swung his legs out of bed, padding over to him. He leaned down, peering over Liam’s shoulder. The list was already a page and a half long. Two columns, tiny handwriting, doodles of pumpkins and bats shoved into the margins.

“Liam.”

“What?”

“This is a manifesto.”

“It’s a shopping list,” Liam argued.

Theo plucked the paper from the desk before Liam could stop him. He scanned down the first column.

Pumpkins (at least 10), string lights (orange, purple, and green), fog machine, fake spider webs (enough to cover the porch), skeleton hand salad tongs (Mason will love these), jello mold shaped like a brain, black tablecloths, skull candle holders, cauldron punch bowl—

Theo blinked. “Why do we need a fog machine?”

“For the spooky vibes,” Liam said instantly.

“Why do we need skeleton hand salad tongs?”

“Because they’re cool.”

Theo flicked his gaze back to him, unimpressed. “Why do we need ten pumpkins?”

Liam straightened in his chair, chin tilted defiantly. “Because carving is tradition. And the more pumpkins we have, the more chances we have to make at least one good one.”

Theo stared at him for a beat. “You know everyone except Scott and Corey are just gonna carve dicks into theirs, right?”

Liam sputtered, cheeks turning red. “They will not!”

“They absolutely will,” Theo said flatly, tossing the list back onto the desk. “Stiles alone could fill a whole porch of them.”

Liam scowled but didn’t argue, which meant Theo was right.

He dragged a hand through his hair, still mussed from sleep. “We could just…not do this, you know. Buy some candy, put a pumpkin on the porch, call it a day.”

Liam’s eyes widened in horror, like Theo had just suggested kicking a puppy. “No. We’re doing this right.” He jabbed a finger at the list like it was a contract. “The whole point is to make it big. Fun.”

He exhaled slowly, shoulders loosening. Fine. If this was what Liam wanted, he could suck it up.

“Two pages,” Theo muttered, eyeing the list again. “This is how it starts. Next thing I know, you’ll be renting a hearse for decoration.”

Liam perked up immediately, a smile painting his lips. “Wait, that’s an option?”

Theo groaned, grabbing the nearest hoodie from the back of the chair. “No. Get dressed. We’re leaving before you add a third page.”

Before Liam could argue, Theo bent, snagged jeans he’d just tossed aside the night before, and shoved it into Liam’s hands along with the hoodie. The younger boy fumbled, half–caught between indignation and amusement, as Theo turned to their dresser and pulled out his own clothes.

“Bossy,” Liam muttered, tugging the hoodie over his head. His curls puffed out around the neckline, static catching as he smoothed them down.

Theo shot him a look over his shoulder. “Efficient.”

“You mean controlling.”

“Semantics,” Theo said, tugging a clean black t-shirt over his head. He heard Liam laugh under his breath, low and bright in a way Theo didn’t mind starting his morning with.

Liam shuffled into the pair of jeans, balancing on one foot as he yanked them up. “You’re just mad I’m prepared.”

Theo snorted, buttoning his own jeans. “Prepared? Liam, you wrote a dissertation on Halloween shopping.”

“It’s called being thorough,” Liam said, stumbling a little as he hopped into his sneakers. “You wouldn’t get it. Some of us like joy.”

Theo rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched. He pulled his hoodie on, tugging the zipper halfway before grabbing his wallet off the dresser. “Joy doesn’t usually cost two pages of printer paper.”

“Printer paper is free.” Liam stuffed his hands into the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie.

Theo arched a brow. “Pretty sure Jenna buys the printer paper.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Feels like the point.”

Liam made a face at him, nose scrunching up, which only made Theo shake his head as he reached for the crumpled list and shoved it deep into his hoodie pocket. The less Liam saw of it between here and the store, the better.

“Come on.” Theo flicked the lights off as they left the room. “Before you decide we also need to buy gravestones for the yard.”

“Oh my god,” Liam whispered, eyes lighting up like Theo had just gifted him the idea of the century.

“No.” Theo jabbed a finger toward him before they even hit the stairs. “That wasn’t a suggestion.”

“You’re no fun.”

Theo let him pass, following close behind. “Then why are you still dating me?”

“Currently regretting it,” Liam teased, skipping the last two steps like he hadn’t been scolded a hundred times for nearly breaking his ankle.

Theo caught up to him in the kitchen, grabbing his keys from the hook by the door.

“You know,” Liam said as Theo pulled the door open, “if you actually let yourself enjoy this, it might not kill you.”

Theo didn’t dignify that with an answer right away. He just held the door open, waiting for Liam to bound past him.

When Theo finally followed, the cool morning air hit him, sharp and fresh against skin still warm from sleep. Liam shoved his hands deeper into his hoodie pocket, shoulders hunching slightly against the chill, but he still shot Theo a sideways look as if daring him to argue again.

Theo locked the door behind them and jingled the keys in his hand. “It’s a shopping trip, Dunbar. Not life or death.”

“Your lack of enthusiasm makes it feel like life or death,” Liam said, falling into step beside him.

Theo sighed, heavy and deliberate, like Liam had just accused him of something criminal. The sound only made Liam’s grin tilt wider.

He unlocked the car with a sharp click, but Liam lingered on the sidewalk. Theo opened the driver’s side door, pausing just long enough to catch Liam’s grin still tugging at the corners of his mouth. “What?” he asked, flat.

“Nothing,” Liam said, sliding into the passenger seat. “Just…you’re cute when you’re miserable.”

Theo shut his door a little harder than necessary, but the warmth crawling up the back of his neck betrayed him. He shoved the keys into the ignition. “Shut up.”

Liam just laughed.

*ੈ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆🕸️⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ *ੈ *ੈ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆🕸️⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ *ੈ *ੈ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆🕸️⋆ཋྀ

The parking lot was already too full for Theo’s taste. Bright orange banners stretched across the building, bold black lettering screaming Spirit Halloween like it was some kind of sacred rite instead of a pop-up in what used to be a hardware store. Pumpkins and ghosts plastered the windows, and Theo could already hear the faint crackle of a distorted “Thriller” playing over tinny speakers as he eased the car into a spot.

Beside him, Liam practically vibrated in his seat. “We’re here,” he whispered like they’d just arrived at Disneyland.

Theo cut the engine. “Yeah, I can see that.”

Liam ignored the tone, leaning forward to stare out the windshield, his breath fogging a faint patch of glass. “Look at it. It’s beautiful.”

Theo followed his gaze. A giant inflatable grim reaper swayed dangerously in the breeze, its plastic scythe bending at an awkward angle. “That thing looks like it’s two gusts away from impaling someone.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Liam said, already reaching for his seatbelt.

Theo caught his wrist before he could bolt. “Ground rules.”

Liam groaned. “You’re such a killjoy.”

“Ground rules,” Theo repeated, voice low enough that Liam stilled. “One cart. No more than what fits inside it. If it doesn’t fit, it doesn’t come home with us. Got it?”

Liam pursed his lips, considering, then leaned back with a dramatic sigh. “Fine. One cart.”

Theo narrowed his eyes. “Don’t make that face.”

“This is my normal face.”

“It’s your ‘I’m planning loopholes’ face.”

Liam’s grin cracked through before he could help it, bright and unrepentant. “So?”

Theo scrubbed a hand over his jaw, already regretting every decision that led him here. “Let’s just get this over with.”

The moment Theo’s boots hit the pavement, Liam was already out of the car and halfway across the parking lot. Theo locked the car with a beep, dragging his feet just enough to make his point, but Liam either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Probably both.

By the time Theo caught up, Liam was standing at the entrance under a giant arch of fake cobwebs, peering up like it was the goddamn gates of heaven.

The automatic doors whooshed open, and a blast of warm air carrying the faint, plasticky smell of rubber masks and synthetic fabric wrapped around them.

Liam turned, his grin wide enough to hurt. “Ready?”

“No,” Theo muttered, but he nudged him forward anyway, hand brushing against Liam’s back.

A maze of racks bursting with costumes, animatronics jerking to life at random intervals, and enough orange lights to make Theo feel like he was standing inside a pumpkin. A little kid screamed in delight somewhere down the aisle as a mechanical zombie lurched forward, and Liam practically lit up in response.

“Cart,” Theo reminded, snagging one from the line and shoving it toward Liam before he could run off.

Liam accepted it, already steering them toward the nearest display. “Look at this,” he said, holding up a plastic skeleton hand.

Theo arched a brow. “Didn’t we just have this conversation?”

“This one’s different,” Liam argued, dropping it into the cart with a clatter.

“Uh-huh.”

It was going to be a long day.

They made their way down the first aisle, Liam stopping every few feet to gasp over something new—foam gravestones, glow-in-the-dark cobwebs, plastic cauldrons. Each item was presented to Theo with the same level of seriousness as if Liam were pitching a million-dollar investment. And each time, Theo gave him the same flat look, the one that was supposed to say absolutely not, only to watch Liam slip it into the cart when he thought Theo wasn’t paying attention.

Theo didn’t bother pointing it out.

“Okay, but hear me out,” Liam said suddenly, tugging at Theo’s wrist until he turned. In his hands was a giant inflatable pumpkin, easily three feet tall and grinning with sharp triangular teeth. “This on the porch. Right by the door. Tell me that wouldn’t be perfect.”

Theo stared at the inflatable pumpkin for a long beat, lips pressing into a thin line. He dragged a hand over his face. “Where exactly do you think that’s going to fit?”

Liam brightened immediately. “Back seat.”

Theo gave him a look sharp enough to cut glass. “That’s for the pumpkins.”

“This is a pumpkin.”

“It’s air,” Theo corrected. “And it’s taking up space we need for the ten actual pumpkins you insisted on.”

Liam tilted his chin, stubborn. “Nine pumpkins and one inflatable. Problem solved.”

Theo exhaled slowly, leveling him with a glare that was supposed to shut this whole conversation down. Instead, Liam just smiled wider, all soft curves like he knew he was going to win this conversation.

Theo hated how easily he caved to that face. Hated it almost as much as he secretly didn’t mind.

“You’re holding it in your lap the whole ride home,” Theo muttered finally.

Liam’s grin split wide, triumphant. “Deal.”

The pumpkin hit the cart with a hollow thump, wobbling against the pile of plastic bones and tangled cobweb bags. Theo gripped the handle tighter, pushing them forward before Liam could find something even more absurd.

The next aisle was worse. Fog machines puffed weakly in the corners, strobe lights flashing over a row of animatronics that shrieked to life as they passed. Liam jumped toward one — an oversized clown with glowing eyes — and Theo had to catch his hoodie before he could press the “Try Me” button.

“No,” Theo said firmly.

“But—”

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me—”

Theo tugged him back by the hood, steering him toward the shelves stacked with candles and lanterns. “We’re not bringing home anything that screams.”

Liam wrinkled his nose. “You’re no fun.”

Theo ignored him.

They paused at a rack of string lights, Liam crouching to inspect the tangled cords. “Pumpkins, ghosts, bats,” he recited, pulling down three boxes. “We need all of them.”

Theo plucked one box from his hands before it made it into the cart. “Pick two.”

“Three.”

“Two.”

Liam straightened, holding the boxes to his chest like he was defending children. “They’re friends.”

“They’re plastic.”

“They belong together.”

Theo arched a brow.

Liam held his gaze for a solid three seconds before the corners of his mouth twitched, threatening a grin. He shoved the pumpkin ligjts back onto the shelf with a sigh. “Fine. Two.”

Theo let him have a few small victories— a bag of glow-in-the-dark spiders, a bundle of fake chain links, a set of lanterns shaped like skulls. Nothing that would drive him insane once they actually got the decorations home. He wasn’t that heartless.

Still, the cart was filling faster than Theo liked. And the pumpkins weren’t even in there yet.

“Do we have everything from your list?” Theo asked, scanning the shelves.

Liam pulled the crumpled paper from Theo’s
pocket, unfolding it with the kind of reverence people reserved for ancient scrolls.

He read aloud as he walked, finger tracing the lines. “String lights—two out of three, but I’ll forgive you. Fog machine—check. Spider webs—check. Skeleton hands—check. Jello mold—check. Tablecloth—check. Cauldron—check. Gravestones…” He trailed off, glancing at Theo.

Theo sighed. “Gravestones?”

“Yeah.” Liam nodded earnestly. “We can put them along the walkway. Make it look like a graveyard.”

Theo raised a brow. “Because nothing says ‘welcome to our house’ like simulated death.”

Liam rolls his eyes. “It’s festive, Theo. You know, some people actually enjoy the holidays.”

Theo rolled his eyes but followed him to the gravestone section anyway. Foam markers painted in chipped gray sat stacked in uneven piles, some crooked, others comically over-the-top with “RIP” carved into them in bold block letters. Liam crouched down, lifting each one like he was picking fine china.

“This one looks cool,” Liam said, holding up a cracked stone with a skull etched into it.

Theo crossed his arms. “They all look the same.”

“They don’t,” Liam argued, setting the skull one carefully in the cart. “This one’s got personality.”

“It’s foam.”

“It’s spooky foam.”

Theo bit back a comment. Liam was too happy, and honestly, it was easier just to let him pick what he wanted and call it a day.

By the time Liam was satisfied, the list was nearly checked off. He tapped the last few items. “Pumpkins. Candy.”

Theo frowned. “I thought we were just getting decorations.”

“Decorations include candy.”

Theo shot him a look. “That’s not how definitions work.”

“Maybe not in your boring dictionary.” Liam grinned, taking the cart from Theo and steering the cart toward the candy section.

Theo groaned under his breath, dragging a hand over his face. “Liam—”

Liam practically jogged the cart down the candy aisle, the wheels rattling against the scuffed floor as if they were in some kind of race. Theo trailed behind at a slower pace, hands shoved deep into his pocket, watching Liam’s curls bounce with each step.

The shelves stretched floor to ceiling, packed with every kind of sugar trap imaginable — bags of chocolate bars, buckets of sour gummies, fun-sized this and bite-sized that. Theo felt his teeth ache just looking at it.

Liam stopped halfway down, eyes wide like he’d stumbled into buried treasure. He grabbed two family-sized bags of mini chocolate bars and dumped them in the cart.

“That’s enough,” Theo said automatically.

Liam didn’t even look at him. “Not even close.” He reached for gummy worms, sour straws, and something neon-colored that looked like it had been manufactured in a lab. “We need variety. Chocolate for Stiles, sour for Malia, hard candy for Alec—”

“We’re not running a convenience store,” Theo cut in. He reached into the cart and pulled out half the pile, setting them back on the shelf.

“Hey!” Liam pouted, tugging the cart closer like Theo was about to rob him.

Theo raised a brow. “Do you want actual decorations or do you want to spend the entire budget on sugar?”

Liam leaned his elbows on the cart handle, lower lip jutting out just enough to be obnoxious. “What’s the point of Halloween without candy?”

Theo gave him a flat look.

Liam didn’t wait for Theo to answer before he grabbed another bag of gummy bears and dropped it in.

Theo didn’t bother fighting him on that one. There were battles worth picking, and then there was Liam’s borderline religious devotion to sugar. “Three more bags and that’s it,” Theo said finally.

“Four.”

“Three.”

“Three big ones,” Liam bargained, grin tugging at his mouth.

Theo huffed out a breath, shaking his head, but he didn’t argue when Liam tossed another oversized bag of chocolate into the pile.

By the time they wheeled toward the registers, the cart was groaning under the weight. But Liam wasn’t done. He tugged on the cart, steering it away from the checkout and toward the far end of the store.

“Where are you going?” Theo asked, following anyway.

“We forgot the pumpkins.”

“I’m pretty sure they don’t sell pumpkins here.”

“I saw them outside.” Liam pointed toward a side exit where sunlight streamed through glass doors. Beyond them, crates of bright orange pumpkins lined the sidewalk.

Theo sighed, long and slow. “Of course.”

Liam shoved the cart through the doors, the wheels bumping over the metal threshold as they stepped into the crisp air.

Theo hadn’t thought it was possible for a parking lot to look like a farm stand, but here they were — rows and rows of wooden crates, stacked high with orange spheres that looked like they’d been poured straight out of a cartoon. Sunlight caught their glossy skin, highlighting ridges and stems like each one had been designed in some kind of Halloween lab.

Liam crouched down immediately, hands trailing over the nearest crate like he was choosing puppies at a shelter. “This one’s got good color,” he muttered to himself, lifting one carefully and setting it aside. He moved to the next, thumping it with his knuckles like he had any clue what he was listening for. “This one too. And this one.”

Theo shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket, exhaling a breath through his nose. “They all look the same.”

“They don’t,” Liam said instantly, his voice muffled as he leaned half into the crate to pull out another. His curls bounced when he stood, cheeks already flushed from the effort. He dumped the pumpkin into the cart with a solid thud that made the whole thing rattle. “You just don’t know what to look for.”

Theo arched a brow. “Enlighten me.”

“Shape, color, stem.” Liam crouched again, running a hand along a smaller pumpkin like he was inspecting fine art. “This one’s too flat. This one’s too lopsided. This one’s stem is broken. You gotta find the perfect ones.”

Theo hummed like he cared, watching as Liam wrestled another pumpkin out of the crate. This one was heavier, big enough that most people would’ve struggled to get their arms around it. But Liam lifted it without breaking stride, the muscles in his forearms tightening as he settled it into the cart like it weighed nothing.

“Whoa,” a small voice piped up in wonder.

Theo turned his head. A kid, maybe six or seven, stood nearby clutching his mom’s hand, wide-eyed and staring at Liam. “Mom, did you see that? He picked up, like, the biggest pumpkin!”

The mom offered a polite smile, tugging her son gently along, but the kid kept staring, craning his neck until he was dragged toward another crate.

Liam blinked, then laughed under his breath, cheeks pink as he straightened. “Guess I should’ve pretended it was heavy.”

Theo smiled faintly. “You probably gave him a complex. Kid’s gonna spend the rest of the day wondering why he can’t haul a fifty-pound pumpkin like it’s a basketball.”

“It wasn’t fifty pounds,” Liam protested. He grabbed another, smaller pumpkin and set it on the bottom rack of the cart. “Maybe thirty.”

Theo crouched, checking the cart. The bottom rack now had three oversized pumpkins, and the basket itself was already packed with decorations, candy, and that one inflatable monstrosity that took up half the space.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Theo said, bracing his hand against the cart handle.

Liam looked up, brows furrowing. “Enough what?”

“Pumpkins. That’s three.”

“We need ten,” Liam corrected, like Theo had forgotten basic math. He reached for another crate.

Theo planted a palm against his chest before he could dive in. “We don’t have space.”

Liam frowned. “We’ll make space.”

Theo pointed at the cart. “Where? Between the fog machine and the twenty bags of candy you snuck in?”

“Eighteen,” Liam muttered.

Theo gave him a look.

Liam sighed dramatically, tugging at the hem of his hoodie. “Fine. What if we rearrange?”

Theo bent, shifting the pile just to make his point. The inflatable pumpkin squeaked under his grip, wedged against two bags of spider webs and the skeleton tongs. “There’s no way we’re fitting seven more in here without ditching some of this crap.”

Liam’s face did that thing again, soft and pleading, like Theo had just threatened to outlaw happiness. “But we need it all.”

“No,” Theo said firmly. “We need pumpkins. Decorations are optional.”

“They’re not optional!” Liam’s voice went a little high-pitched. “They’re the main part of the party. It’s for the vibe!”

Theo deadpanned. “You’ve said that word too many times today.”

“I’ll say it again,” Liam shot back, crossing his arms. “Vibe.”

Theo rubbed a hand down his face, dragging his palm over the rough stubble on his jaw. “Here’s what’s happening. You pick the ten pumpkins. I’ll take out anything that doesn’t fit. End of story.”

“But Theo—“

“No.”

Liam grumbled but crouched anyway, pulling another pumpkin from the crate. He lined it up carefully on the bottom rack with the others, checking each stem like he was picking out weapons for battle.

Theo leaned against the cart, watching him. The ridiculous part was that Liam’s excitement wasn’t even irritating anymore. Not really. He looked too happy, too alive crouched among the crates, curls falling into his face, hoodie sleeves shoved up his forearms as he weighed one pumpkin against another. Like this whole thing — the decorations, the candy, the pumpkins — actually mattered.

It was stupid. And Theo was helpless against it.

“Okay,” Liam said finally, hauling another big pumpkin onto the rack with a grunt. “That’s four. Six more.”

Theo crouched, eyeing the load. The cart was already groaning. He reached in and plucked the bag of glow-in-the-dark bats from the top, tossing them onto the nearest shelf.

“Hey!” Liam protested.

“Pumpkins take priority,” Theo said, reaching for the skeleton hands next.

“No, not the hands!” Liam dove for them, rescuing them from Theo’s grip like Theo had tried to toss out a family heirloom. “We’re keeping these.”

Theo raised a brow. “So pick something else to sacrifice.”

Liam hesitated, glancing into the cart. His hand hovered over the fog machine, then the strobe light, then the inflatable pumpkin. He winced. “Not the inflatable.”

Theo smirked. “That’s the first thing to go.”

“Absolutely not,” Liam said, clutching the skeleton hands to his chest. “Non-negotiable.”

“Everything’s negotiable,” Theo countered.

Theo waited, patient as stone, while Liam chewed on his lip and muttered under his breath about “unfair rules” and “grinch energy.” Finally, Liam sighed, pulling out the inflatable pumpkin.

Good. Theo hated that thing.

Liam held the inflatable pumpkin in both hands like Theo had just ordered him to drown a puppy. His lip jutted out, full-on sulking mode.

“You happy now?” he muttered.

Theo didn’t even blink. “Ecstatic.”

Liam clutched the inflatable pumpkin tighter, rocking back on his heels like he was staging a funeral for it right there in the parking lot. “You know, most boyfriends don’t crush their significant other’s joy.”

Theo lifted a brow. “Most boyfriends don’t get conned into buying ten pumpkins and half the Halloween store.”

“It’s not conning. It’s curating.” Liam set the inflatable gently on the ground beside the cart, crouching like he was saying goodbye. “Fine. But when everyone asks where the giant pumpkin is, I’m telling them it was your fault.”

“Good,” Theo said, adjusting the pumpkins already in the cart so they didn’t roll off the rack. “I’ll wear the blame proudly.”

Liam shot him a look. “You’re impossible to deal with.”

“And you’re dramatic.”

Liam let out a huff, grabbing another pumpkin, hefting it easily and dropping it onto the rack.

“That’s five,” Liam announced, brushing dirt off his hoodie. “Halfway there.”

Theo crouched, shoving aside a bag of candy to make space. The cart was reaching critical capacity. “We’re going to have to put some of these into the bed of the truck.”

Liam’s grin widened. “Perfect. Even more festive.”

Theo shot him a deadpan look. “Right. Nothing says safe driving like flying pumpkins.”

Liam ignored him, already reaching for another. His whole body bent into the crate, sneakers squeaking against the pavement as he wrestled a massive one free. It landed with a dull thunk on the ground, and he scooped it up like it weighed nothing, muscles shifting under his sleeves.

Theo noticed the second the little kid from earlier reappeared, still staring, eyes wide. The mom was trying to drag him away toward their minivan, but the boy pointed right at Liam. “See, Mom? He’s, like, a superhero!”

Liam froze, cheeks coloring. He laughed nervously, setting the pumpkin on the cart. “Uh. Thanks?”

Theo snorted, low under his breath. “Captain America strikes again.”

That earned him a glare. “Shut up.”

Theo’s smirk sharpened. “Should I get your autograph before the crowds show up?”

Liam shoved him lightly in the shoulder, rolling his eyes. “You’re not funny.”

“I’m hilarious.”

They went back and forth like that, Liam piling pumpkins, Theo rearranging the cart every time it seemed like the weight might snap the wheels off. By the time the tenth one was wedged onto the bottom rack, the cart looked like it was about to collapse.

Liam stood back, hands on his hips, proud like he’d just conquered a mountain. “There. Ten. Told you it would work.”

Theo eyed the cart, unimpressed. “Work is a strong word.”

“It’s perfect.”

“It’s a lawsuit waiting to happen.”

“Perfect,” Liam repeated, grinning.

Theo sighed, running a hand over his face, but he didn’t argue. He grabbed the cart handle and started wheeling it back toward the store doors, the wheels squeaking under the weight. Liam fell into step beside him, bouncing a little with leftover energy.

“You know,” Liam said after a beat, “this would’ve looked way better if you’d let me keep the inflatable.”

Theo shot him a sidelong look. “You’re still talking about that?”

“I’m never letting it go.”

Theo’s lips twitched. He bit it back, but the grin was there anyway, sharp and reluctant. He pushed the groaning cart through the sliding doors, the wheels squealing so loudly it made a couple of teenagers by the costumes glance over. Liam didn’t even notice — he was still grinning, practically buzzing with energy.

The closer they got to the registers, the more obvious it became that one cart wasn’t going to cut it. The pile of decorations towered over the sides, half the candy threatening to spill out with every bump. Theo steered carefully, muttering under his breath when a bag of fun-sized Snickers slid toward the floor.

“Grab it before it—”

Liam lunged, catching the bag mid-fall. He tossed it back on top. “That was close.”

They reached the checkout, the line short but moving slow, and Theo could feel the cashier’s eyes widen the second she saw their cart. She was maybe nineteen, wearing a witch hat that slumped to one side, her nametag barely holding onto her apron.

“Uh,” she said as Theo rolled the cart forward. “That’s…a lot.”

Before Theo could answer, Liam cut in brightly, “It’s for a party.”

The cashier’s eyebrows lifted higher. “A party for, like…the whole town?”

Theo deadpanned, “No. Just him.”

Liam elbowed him in the ribs, but Theo didn’t flinch, too busy unloading pumpkins onto the conveyor belt. Each one hit with a heavy thud, making the cashier blink like she wasn’t paid enough to deal with this kind of insanity.

“You’re gonna need another cart for this,” she said finally.

Liam perked up. “I can grab one!”

Theo sighed, waving him off. “Go.”

Liam jogged off toward the line of carts by the door, leaving Theo with the mountain of pumpkins and a cashier who looked one step away from asking if they needed a forklift.

“You doing a farm or something?” she asked, scanning the first pumpkin and watching the numbers climb on the screen.

Theo glanced at the total, winced, then leaned on the counter. “Apparently, I’m going broke instead.”

The cashier laughed, shaking her head. “Halloween’ll do that to you.”

Theo muttered, “Boyfriends will do that to you,” but she didn’t hear it over the beeping scanner.

By the time Liam returned, wheeling a second cart with way too much enthusiasm, the first five pumpkins had already been rung through. He immediately started loading decorations into the empty cart, careful with the skeleton hands like they were fragile glass.

“Teamwork,” Liam said proudly, like Theo wasn’t doing ninety percent of the lifting.

Theo just shook his head, dropping another pumpkin onto the belt. “Yeah. Real balanced.”

Liam grinned at the cashier. “He loves this, by the way. Don’t let him fool you.”

Theo didn’t even look up. “Yeah. Love watching my bank account die.”

The cashier kept scanning, each beep another nail in the coffin of Theo’s paycheck. Liam hummed under his breath as he transferred decorations into the second cart, somehow managing to look pleased with himself for finding room for everything even though he was the reason they needed two carts in the first place.

By the time the last pumpkin rolled down the belt, the total glowed on the screen in unforgiving red numbers. Theo stared at it, flat expression hiding the way his chest tightened.

Liam, of course, leaned forward on the cart handle, bright as ever. “Trust me, it’ll be totally worth it.”

Theo slid his card into the machine, jaw tight. “Only for you.”

The cashier bit back a smile, handing him the receipt that was long enough to double as a scarf. “Good luck, guys.”

“We’ll need it,” Theo muttered.

“Thanks! Have a good day!”Liam chirped, wheeling his cart toward the automatic doors.

The automatic doors whooshed open again, spilling them back into the cool air, carts rattling over the cracked pavement. Theo’s hands gripped the handle tight, arms aching from hefting ten pumpkins onto the belt just minutes ago, and now he got the honor of lifting them all over again.

Liam was practically skipping. He pushed his cart like it was filled with balloons instead of overpriced Halloween junk. “This is gonna look so good. You’ll see. By the time we’re done, the whole house is gonna be—”

“Bankrupt?” Theo cut in.

“Epic,” Liam corrected, ignoring him. “Totally epic.”

They reached the truck, the black paint gleaming faintly under the gray sky. Theo popped the bed open with one hand, the metal clanging louder than it needed to, and rolled his shoulders once before crouching. “Pumpkins in the back. Decorations in the cab.”

Liam saluted. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

Theo gave him a look, but Liam was already hauling one of the giant pumpkins out of the cart. He lifted it like it was nothing, muscles flexing under his hoodie, and plopped it into the bed with a solid thunk.

“You’re gonna dent the bed,” Theo muttered, carefully lifting his own and setting it down softer.

“You’re such a grandpa,” Liam teased, reaching for the next one. “It’s a truck. It’s built for heavy stuff.”

“It’s built for things that don’t roll around and smash into each other the second we hit a turn,” Theo corrected, arranging the pumpkins into neat rows like he was solving a puzzle. “So maybe don’t throw them in like you’re pitching for the Yankees.”

Liam smirked but adjusted, lowering the next pumpkin a little more carefully. “Better?”

“Barely.”

Pumpkin by pumpkin, they stacked them in. The bed filled quick, orange domes pressed together like oversized bowling balls. Theo shifted each one into place, making sure none were rocking on their stems. By the time the last pumpkin landed, he wiped his palms against his jeans, eyeing the lineup like he was proud despite himself.

“Ten,” Liam said with satisfaction, hopping up to sit on the edge of the truck bed, sneakers swinging against the bumper. “Mission accomplished.”

Theo squinted at the pumpkins. “One sharp turn and we’re gonna have pumpkin puree back here.”

“I’ll hold them down if I have to.” Liam patted one of the bigger ones like it was a loyal dog.

Theo rolled his eyes. “Right. You’re gonna ride in the back with the pumpkins. Totally safe.”

“Could be fun.”

“You’d die, Liam.”

Liam just grinned, kicking his feet idly as Theo moved to the other cart. The decorations were piled high, spilling out of the plastic bags, and Theo knew fitting them into the backseat was about to be hell.

He yanked the door open and started cramming. Candy bags went in first, shoved together tight on the floor. Spider webs and string lights filled the middle seat. The fog machine box slid in awkwardly, taking up way more space than it should.

Liam hopped down from the bed and joined him, juggling the skeleton hands and the strobe light. “Don’t bend the gravestones. It’ll break.”

Theo glanced at him flatly. “It’s foam.”

“Foam can still break,” Liam shot back.

Theo grunted, taking the gravestones anyway and sliding it onto the seat, wedged between the fog machine and the bag of bats. “Happy?”

“Not until everything’s in.”

Bit by bit, the pile grew higher. Dishes stacked against the door. The cauldron tucked under the window, crammed with smaller decorations. Bags of candy spilling into every open crevice. By the time Theo shoved the last bag in, the seat was overflowing, barely leaving room for air.

Liam stepped back, hands on his hips, surveying it with the same pride he’d had for the pumpkins. “See? Perfect fit.”

Theo snorted. “If perfect means we can’t open the back doors without triggering an avalanche.”

“It’s fine. We’ll just…not open them.”

“Great plan,” Theo said dryly, slamming the door shut before anything tumbled back out.

They circled around to the front, Liam still practically buzzing as he tugged his hoodie tighter. “I can’t wait to start setting everything up. We should do the porch tonight. Or maybe the yard first. No, the porch—definitely the porch.”

Theo slid into the driver’s seat, buckling his seatbelt with one hand. “You’re seriously gonna make me decorate after I just loaded everything in?”

“Yeah?” Liam clicked his seatbelt, bouncing slightly against the cushion. “How else are we gonna do it?”

Theo started the engine, the rumble steady beneath them. “This is torture.”

“It is not. Stop being so dramatics.”

Theo glanced at him, and despite himself, the corners of his mouth twitched. Liam caught it, eyes narrowing in triumph.

“You’re smiling,” he accused, pointing. “You like this.”

“I like you,” Theo corrected, shifting into reverse. “The rest is questionable.”

Liam just grinned, leaning forward in his seat to fiddle with the radio.

*ੈ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆🕸️⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ *ੈ *ੈ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆🕸️⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ *ੈ *ੈ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆🕸️⋆ཋྀ

The house already smelled faintly of wax and sugar by the time Theo carried in the last armful of bags. The candy had been dumped into a plastic cauldron on the counter, spilling bright wrappers across the wood, and the rest of the decorations sat in a growing mountain that threatened to overtake the living room.

Liam was already kneeling in the middle of it all, sorting with a determination that made Theo think of wolves tearing through a kill. Strings of orange lights looped across his shoulders, fake cobwebs puffed up beside his knee, and a trio of plastic bats dangled from his wrist where they’d tangled into his watchband.

“You’re hoarding,” Theo muttered, stepping over a bag of skeleton hands to drop his load onto the pile.

“I’m organizing,” Liam corrected, pulling the bats free and tossing them aside. “Lights in one pile, webs in another, props over here. See? Organized.”

Theo crouched down, pulled one of the webs from the pile, and stretched it between his hands. “This looks like dryer lint.”

“Don’t insult the classics,” Liam warned, snatching it back.

Before Theo could argue, the front door opened and Jenna breezed in, arms loaded with her own shopping bags. She toed off her shoes by the door, setting the bags down with a grin that was entirely too mischievous for Theo’s liking.

“Guess who brought reinforcements,” she sing-songed.

Liam’s head shot up. “You got more decorations?”

“And candles,” Jenna said, holding up one of the bags like it was a prize. “Fall scents. Pumpkin spice, apple cider, cinnamon woods. We are not living in a haunted house that smells like boy sweat and fake cobwebs.”

Theo smirked. “Finally. Someone with priorities.”

Liam scowled at both of them, already suspicious. “What kind of decorations?”

“The fun kind,” Jenna answered, pulling out the first one — a small plush werewolf with comically large fangs and a tongue lolling out. She set it on the couch with a flourish.

Theo barked a laugh before he could stop himself. “Oh, that’s good.”

Liam’s ears flushed pink. “You didn’t—”

Jenna reached into the second bag and pulled out a set of wall decals: shadowy wolves howling at the moon. She slapped one onto the nearest wall just to watch Liam groan.

“You did,” Liam muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

“They’re festive,” Jenna said sweetly, already digging for the next one. Out came a candle shaped like a wolf paw print, which she placed dead center on the coffee table. “See? I’m embracing the family theme.”

Theo leaned back against the arm of the couch, arms crossed, enjoying every second. “I like her taste.”

“You would,” Liam shot back, glaring at the paw candle like it had personally offended him.

Jenna winked, then pulled out the last of her treasures: a throw blanket patterned with cartoon wolves in party hats. She shook it out dramatically and draped it over the back of the couch.

Theo lost it then, laughter spilling sharp and unguarded. Liam kicked at his shin, but it only made him laugh harder.

“You’re both children,” Liam grumbled, gathering his pile of lights like they were a shield.

“Children with superior decorating skills,” Jenna corrected. She lit one of the candles — apple cider, warm and sweet — and set it by the TV.

“Alright,” Jenna said, hands on her hips. “Where are we starting?”

Liam straightened, his organizing instincts kicking back in. “Lights first. Then webs. Then props.”

They started with the windows, Theo holding the ladder steady while Liam climbed up to loop the lights around the curtain rods. Jenna directed from below, pointing out when one side drooped too low or when the bulbs weren’t spaced right.

“Higher,” she called, craning her neck. “No, your left. Other left.”

“I know my left,” Liam snapped down at her, wobbling slightly as he shifted.

Theo gripped the ladder tighter, suppressing a laugh. “Do you?”

Liam shot him a glare, nearly dropping the light cord. Theo’s hand shot up instinctively, catching it before it smacked Liam in the face.

“See?” Theo said evenly. “This is why you need supervision.”

“You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Correct.”

By the time the lights were strung across all three windows, the living room glowed in a warm orange haze. Liam climbed down, flushed and sweaty, but looking ridiculously proud of himself.

“Looks good, right?” he asked, turning to survey their work.

Theo had to admit — it did. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” Liam repeated, scandalized. “It’s great.”

Jenna lit another candle, this one pumpkin spice, and the air turned richer, heavier, like autumn itself had crawled inside. She flopped onto the couch, tugging the wolf blanket over her lap. “Okay. Next?”

Liam grabbed the bag of cobwebs. “Webs.”

Theo groaned. “Here we go.”

The webs were a nightmare. No matter how carefully they stretched them, they clumped, stuck to their fingers, or tore into useless strings. Liam got one piece caught in his hair, and Jenna had to untangle it while laughing so hard she nearly cried.

“You look like a grandma,” she gasped, holding up a tuft of web like a wig.

Theo bit his lip hard to hold back his laughter, but it slipped out anyway. Liam glared at both of them, shoving the web into Theo’s chest. “You do it.”

Theo sighed, tugged the mess apart, and draped it neatly across the mantle. Unlike Liam, he had patience, and the thin strands caught the candlelight just right, stretching like real silk across the stone.

Jenna tilted her head, impressed. “Okay, that’s creepy. I like it.”

“You just need to have some patience,” Theo said, smirking at Liam.

Liam grumbled, glaring at Theo.

Next came the props: plastic skulls lined the bookshelf, fake bats dangled from the ceiling fan, and the fog machine found its home in the corner, waiting for its debut. Liam insisted on setting up the strobe light immediately, flicking it on and off until Jenna threatened to unplug it herself.

Through it all, Jenna’s wolf decorations kept multiplying. She tucked a plush wolf onto the armchair, stuck another decal onto the hallway wall, and lit the paw candle beside the candy cauldron.

By the time they were done, the living room had transformed. Shadows danced under the orange glow, cobwebs stretched across every corner, and the faint haze of pumpkin spice drifted through the air. It looked like Halloween had swallowed the house whole.

Jenna clapped her hands together once, satisfied. “Alright. Decorating team deserves a soundtrack.”

Before Liam could answer, she was already scrolling on her phone. A second later, the opening notes of Monster Mash filled the living room, tinny through the small speaker but infectious all the same. Jenna turned it up, wiggling her shoulders in place.

“Oh my god,” Liam groaned, dragging his hand down his face.

“Yes,” Jenna said, completely unbothered. “Don’t act like you don’t love this. It’s a Halloween classic.” She hopped off the couch, doing a goofy little twist that had the wolf blanket sliding to the floor. “This is tradition, Liam.”

Theo leaned back against the arm of the couch. “I’m starting to see where you get it from.”

Jenna’s goofy little dance ended with her grabbing an unlit candle off the table and using it like a microphone. “They did the mash,” she crooned dramatically, pointing it toward Theo. “Come on, join me.”

Theo lifted a brow, utterly unimpressed. “Not a chance.”

Liam, however, was already snickering, his shoulders shaking as he tried to hold it in. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

Jenna grinned, spinning toward him. “Good. That’s a parent’s job.” She plopped the candle back down, still laughing, then clapped her hands once more. “Okay. Fun break’s over. Who’s hungry?”

Theo’s stomach gave a traitorous lurch at the mention of food — he hadn’t eaten since lunch. Liam perked up immediately, voice hopeful. “What’re we having?”

Jenna thought for a second, tapping her chin with exaggerated seriousness. Then she brightened. “Goulash.”

Theo blinked. “That’s…very specific.”

“It’s hearty, it’s fast, and it feeds boys who burn too much energy hauling around pumpkins the size of boulders,” Jenna said, already heading toward the kitchen. “Trust me. You’ll thank me later.”

“I already do,” Theo said, which made Liam elbow him in the ribs, like agreeing with his mom was a crime.

“Don’t encourage her,” Liam whispered.

Theo smirked. “Why not? She’s my favorite person.”

Jenna called back without missing a beat, “See? He has taste.”

While Jenna rattled around in the kitchen, pulling out pots and muttering about onions, Liam crouched by one of the unopened boxes shoved under the side table. His face lit up, mischievous and bright in the orange glow of the string lights.

“Oh no,” Theo said immediately. “What is that look?”

Liam didn’t answer — just tore into the box with his nails, the tape splitting with a satisfying rip. Out spilled fabric in patriotic colors, folded haphazardly but unmistakable.

Theo’s stomach dropped. “No.”

“Yes,” Liam countered, holding up the Captain America suit like it was holy scripture. “They came early.”

Theo shook his head. “Send them back.”

“Absolutely not,” Liam said, practically glowing. He dug deeper into the box, pulling out another bundle of fabric — dark, sleek, familiar. He held it up toward Theo with both hands, eyes wide and pleading. “This one’s yours.”

Theo stared at the black tactical jacket, the silver star stitched into the sleeve, the faint sheen of faux leather catching the candlelight. His stomach twisted. “No way.”

“Yes way.” Liam hopped to his feet, practically bouncing. “Come on, you promised.”

“I promised nothing.”

“You said—”

“I said I wasn’t dressing up.”

Liam clutched the costume to his chest, eyes narrowing. “Theodore. Don’t break my heart like this.”

Theo deadpanned, “You’ll survive.”

“Not if we don’t match.” Liam stepped closer, holding the jacket out like a peace offering. His voice softened, coaxing. “It’ll look good on you. I’m serious. Please?”

Theo glared at him, then at the jacket, then back at him. Liam was doing that thing again — the soft eyes, the slight tilt of his mouth, the quiet pleading that dug under Theo’s skin and sat there until it was impossible to ignore.

“Liam—”

“Please?”

Jenna popped her head back in from the kitchen, a wooden spoon in hand. “Oh, costumes?” She spotted the jacket, her grin widening. “Oh, that’s perfect for you, Theo.”

Theo shot her a betrayed look. “Don’t encourage him.”

But she only shrugged, all innocence. “Why not? He has taste.”

Liam beamed like he’d just won the lottery. “See? Two against one.”

Theo scrubbed a hand down his face, muttering something that sounded like a curse. “This is stupid.”

Liam edged closer, thrusting the jacket into Theo’s hands. “Just try it. If it doesn’t fit, you can say no.”

Theo narrowed his eyes. “It’ll fit.”

“Exactly,” Liam said, smiling. “So no excuses.”

Theo exhaled hard, like this was costing him years off his life. Still, his fingers closed around the jacket, the weight solid in his grip. The fabric was cool, smooth, more detailed than he expected for something ordered online. He hated how easily he could picture himself wearing it.

“Fine,” he muttered.

Liam’s grin could’ve powered the whole house. “Yes!”

Theo glared at him. “But if I put this on, you’re never allowed to complain about me not doing anything for you ever again.”

“No promises.”

Theo gave him one last flat look before shrugging out of his hoodie and shirt, tossing them onto the couch. Liam tried — and failed — not to stare, his ears going pink when Theo caught him. He pulled the jacket on, the fabric sliding snug over his shoulders.

It fit. Too well.

Liam let out a soft, awed sound before he could stop himself. “Okay…wow.”

Theo raised a brow, tugging at the zipper. “Wow?”

“Just…yeah. Wow.” Liam cleared his throat, fumbling with the Captain America suit like it suddenly weighed a hundred pounds. “Your turn to shut up.”

Theo’s smirk sharpened, but he didn’t press it, leaning back against the couch with his arms crossed. The jacket hugged his frame, the silver catching the glow from the candles. He hated how well he fit in it.

Liam wrestled his way into his own costume, hopping a little as he yanked the pants up, nearly tripping over the plastic skull by the bookshelf. Jenna snorted from the kitchen, calling out, “Graceful, honey.”

“Shut up!” Liam shouted back, tugging the top over his head. When he finally straightened, tugging the sleeves into place, the red, white, and blue stretched across his chest.

Theo tilted his head, letting his gaze linger. “Superhero, huh?”

“Don’t start,” Liam warned, cheeks flushed.

“Too late.” Theo’s smirk was smug, but his voice softened anyway. “It suits you.”

Liam ducked his head, fiddling with the star emblem stitched to his chest. “You think?”

Theo didn’t hesitate. “Yeah.”

Jenna reappeared then, wiping her hands on a dish towel. The second she saw them standing there — Liam bright in his Captain America suit, Theo dark and sharp in the Bucky jacket — she stopped in her tracks, a huge grin breaking across her face.

“Oh, you two are ridiculous,” she said, shaking her head. “Ridiculously adorable.”

Liam groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Mom—”

Jenna laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of Liam’s head as she passed. “Dinner’ll be ready in fifteen. You two can keep playing dress-up until then.”

Liam dropped his hands, glaring weakly. “We’re not playing.”

Theo leaned down just enough to murmur into Liam’s ear, “Sure we’re not, Captain.”

Liam’s blush spread all the way to his ears, and Theo knew then that, yeah, he might actually survive Halloween after all.

*ੈ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆🕸️⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ *ੈ *ੈ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆🕸️⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ *ੈ *ੈ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆🕸️⋆ཋྀ

Theo’s nose twitched before he even opened his eyes. Something was off — sharp, acrid, crawling along the edges of his senses like smoke creeping under a door. His chest tightened instantly.

His eyes snapped open.

“Fire,” he muttered, voice rough with sleep and panic.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, bare feet hitting the floor. His body moved on instinct, fueled by that spike of adrenaline that came with his senses screaming at him. His eyes scanned the room in milliseconds, taking in shadows and shapes, checking for smoke trails, for flames, for anything that indicated a fire.

Nothing. No smoke, no orange glow. Just the faint gray of morning sunlight creeping in through the blinds. His chest heaved as he inhaled again, trying to locate the source.

It was coming from downstairs.

He jumped up, hoodie half-slipped on over his bare chest, moving faster than he normally did first thing in the morning. His bare toes scraped across the hardwood, instinctively careful but too quick to be graceful. “Liam?” he called, voice clipped. “Liam, what’s burning?”

No answer. Just the smell, stronger now, mingling with something sweet. His stomach knotted.

Theo barreled down the stairs two at a time, chest tight and muscles coiled like springs. And then he saw them: Mason and Liam, both wearing flour-dusted aprons, leaning over the kitchen counter with the oven door propped open, steam and smoke curling upward.

Cookies. They were making cookies.

Theo’s relief hit in two waves: first, that the house wasn’t on fire, and second, that Liam was alive and apparently not in immediate danger. “What—what are you two doing?”

Mason jumped slightly, flour puffing into the air. “Theo! Hey, man, we’re…uh…baking cookies.” He grinned nervously, hands frozen over the mixing bowl. “It’s…going fine.”

Theo’s eyes narrowed. “It smells like there’s a fire.” His gaze flicked to Liam, who was crouched on a stool, carefully using a spatula to drag the tray out. His curls were sticking up from static, cheeks red from heat.

“It’s…smoky sugar,” Liam admitted sheepishly, “but it’s okay. I think it’s fine.”

Theo’s hands went to his hips. “Fine? Liam, it smells like someone’s trying to burn the house down.”

Liam shrugged, a little nervous but still grinning. “I just…might have set the timer wrong.”

Theo groaned, running a hand down his face. “Might?” He stepped closer, crouching slightly to check the cookies without touching them. Sure enough, the edges were dark, bordering on black. “They’re…burnt.”

Mason winced. “We can scrape them?”

Theo shook his head. “No. Just…start over. And open a window.” He grabbed the nearest oven mitt, swinging the tray out of the oven and setting it on the counter.

Liam’s grin faltered as he looked up at Theo. “Sorry. I thought I had it under control.”

Theo smiles, voice softening despite the edge in his tone. “Hey…don’t worry. It’s okay. You just have to be more careful.” He ruffled Liam’s curls before Liam could duck. “We can fix it.”

Theo let out a long, steadying breath, exhaling the panic that had seized him moments ago. He rolled his shoulders, glancing at the flour-coated counter and the sticky remains of the first, failed batch. “Alright. Step one,” he said, voice calm but firm, “we clean this up before making anything else.”

Liam groaned, but Theo didn’t give him a chance to argue. He grabbed a damp cloth, handing Liam the spray bottle of cleaner like a general issuing orders. “Counters first. Wipe everything down. Mason, you’re on dishes.”

Mason nodded, flour smudged across his nose, and started loading the sink with soapy water, humming under his breath. Liam, on the other hand, crouched over the counter, scrubbing away stubborn bits of sugar with the kind of determination reserved for very serious crimes.

Theo wipes his hands on a towel, stepping back as he pulls his phones out from his sweatpants, swiping quickly as he taps a few buttons.

“Lydia,” he said when the screen lit up, her face popping into view, wide-eyed and animated as usual.

“Theo!” she said, voice bright. “Happy Halloween morning! Or…good morning?” She tilted her head, clearly distracted by something behind him — probably Liam and Mason moving in their noisy way.

Theo laughed softly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Morning works. Listen, I need advice. Baking disaster.”

Liam’s head popped up from scrubbing the counter, eyebrows raised. “Disaster? What disaster? It’s fine. Totally fine.”

Theo’s hand shot out, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Not fine, Dunbar. Burnt cookies. Smoke. The kitchen almost became a hazard zone.”

Mason, crouched over the sink, splashed water into a bowl for rinsing. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“It was bad enough that I thought there was fire,” Theo muttered, focusing back on Lydia. “And I need help. You’re great at baking and I’d rather not use Liam’s Pinterest recipes.”

He rested his elbows on the counter, propping his chin in his hands as he watched Mason rinse the last of the bowls and Liam obsessively wipe down the counter like a drill sergeant. faded. He turned back to the phone, Lydia’s face still smiling up at him.

“Okay,” he said, leaning closer, “so if I want these cookies to actually be edible—and preferably not smell like a fire alarm—what’s the safest way to go about it?”

Lydia’s grin widened. “This is for the party tonight, right? First, you’ll need to make something everyone likes. But easy to make. That way Liam and Mason don’t accidentally destroy the oven again”

Theo smiled, eyes flickering to Liam, who looked guilty. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“Okay,” Lydia continued, leaning closer to the camera, “start with something basic, but foolproof. Chocolate chip is classic, always hits the spot. You could do peanut butter blossoms too—they’re easy, everyone likes them, and they don’t require a complicated icing setup.”

Theo made a mental note, tilting his head. “Chocolate chip, peanut butter…what about anything a little seasonal?”

Lydia’s eyes lit up. “Pumpkin spice! Or snickerdoodles. Cinnamon’s perfect for fall. And you can make a double batch ahead of time, freeze some dough if needed. That way, if Liam decides to ‘experiment,’ you’ve got a backup.”

Theo ran a hand over his jaw, glancing between Mason and Liam. The boys were still bent over their respective tasks, flour smudged on Liam’s nose, Mason’s sleeves rolled high as he rinsed the last sticky bowl.

“You know what…maybe you should just come over. Give us a hand before Liam and Mason turn this kitchen into a permanent hazard zone.”

Lydia’s eyes widened, then her lips curved into that signature smirk of hers, sharp but amused. “Are you asking me to babysit your boyfriend and Mason while they bake, Theodore?”

Theo shrugged, still leaning against the counter. “I figured it’s safer than me hovering and snapping at everyone. You’re…better at this. Plus, you actually know what you’re doing.”

“Fair point,” Lydia said, nodding. “Okay, I’m in. I’ll bring my recipe books, some utensils, the whole thing. But you owe me cookies.”

Theo’s smile widened faintly. “Deal. But only if you help prevent the kitchen from smelling like smoke again.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “That’s why I’m coming. I can’t resist stopping culinary disasters before they happen. And Jenna will kill you if she comes home to her kitchen burned down.”

Theo snorted softly, glancing over at Liam, who was now carefully weighing chocolate chunks into a bowl. “True.”

“Alright,” Lydia says, eyes glinting. “I’ll be there soon. Don’t burn anything in the meantime—or at least, try not to.”

Theo gave a mock salute. “Copy that, Chef. Over and out.”

Lydia laughed, and Theo felt the tension finally ease fully from his shoulders. Hanging up, he turned to Liam and Mason, hands on his hips. “Okay, you two. Kitchen needs to be spotless before Lydia comes.”

Mason groaned dramatically, waving the sponge in his hand like a white flag. “You know, some people just say ‘thank you’ for help. Not ‘scrub faster, Lydia’s coming.’”

Theo arched a brow, grabbing a dry towel off the rack. “You don’t need ‘thank you.’ You need speed. Pass me a plate.”

Mason huffed but obeyed, slipping a damp dish into Theo’s waiting hand. Theo dried it briskly, stacking it neatly on the counter, while Mason set another into the rack.

Across the kitchen, Liam abandoned his cloth halfway through wiping the counter and darted toward the hallway. “I’m getting the speaker!” he called back, voice bright. “If Lydia’s coming, we need music. It’s Halloween, it should feel fun.”

Theo shook his head, lips twitching faintly. “Of course. Music over cleaning.”

Mason snorted. “You’re acting like you didn’t know exactly what you were signing up for when you moved in with him.”

Theo smiled at that but didn’t answer, just reached for the next bowl Mason held out, flicking the towel briskly over its rim. He stacked it, then nudged Mason lightly with his shoulder. “You missed a spot.”

“Where?”

Theo tapped a finger against a streak of sugar still clinging near the rim.

Mason scowled. “You’re worse than my mom.”

“Yeah, but at least I don’t make you scrub grout with a toothbrush.”

Mason made a face but dunked the bowl back into the water anyway, muttering something about perfectionists under his breath. Theo pretended not to hear, drying another dish and tucking it neatly into the cabinet.

By the time Liam returned, bouncing into the kitchen with a black speaker tucked under his arm, the stack of clean dishes was already growing on the counter. “Okay, okay,” Liam said, fiddling with his phone as he set the speaker down. “We need Halloween vibes. Not, like, scary vibes—fun vibes.”

“Please no more monster mash,” Mason muttered.

Liam shot him a look. “What’s wrong with monster mash?”

“Everything,” Mason said flatly, flicking water from his fingers at Liam. “Plus, we listened to it, like, ten times already.”

Theo intercepted the droplets with the towel before they could hit the counter. “Play whatever you want, just not loud enough for the neighbors to complain again.”

Liam grinned, scrolling fast, then tapped his phone. Music filled the room — upbeat, catchy, but not obnoxious. Something with a thrum of bass that made Liam instantly start bobbing his head as he went back to scrubbing the counter like it was suddenly a choreographed dance.

Theo sighed as he tucked the last plate into the cabinet. Mason leaned against the counter, drying his damp hands on his jeans. “Well. At least he’s enjoying himself.”

They worked quickly, moving in sync. Theo’s focus stayed steady, towel sweeping over glass and porcelain before everything was tucked neatly away. Mason dried his hands properly now, tossing the sponge into the sink with a satisfied clatter. “Done.”

Theo flicked the towel at him lightly. “Not bad. You’re almost tolerable in a kitchen.”

Mason grinned. “Almost? Please. You’re lucky I don’t just leave you two with burnt sugar cemented to everything.”

The music shifted to another track, louder this time, because of course Liam couldn’t resist turning the volume up once he realized Theo wasn’t immediately shutting it down. He was moving in time with the beat, head bouncing, humming along under his breath as if this wasn’t supposed to be cleaning punishment.

Theo leaned his hip against the counter, towel slung over his shoulder, watching Liam with a look that was probably far too fond for someone who’d been ready to scold him ten minutes ago.

Them the doorbell rang.

Mason straightened instantly, eyes wide. “No way. Already?”

Theo blinked, glancing at the clock. “She said soon, not teleportation.”

Liam froze mid-step, spatula still in his hand like a microphone. “Wait—Lydia?” His eyes went wide. “She’s here already?”

“Apparently,” Theo muttered, already moving to the hallway.

Theo reached the door in three strides and pulled it open, half-prepared to see Lydia smirking with arms full of cookbooks. He wasn’t wrong.

“Wow,” Theo said, eyeing her. “That was fast.”

Lydia stepped past him like she owned the place, a large tote bag slung over one shoulder and a container tucked under her arm. “I was already in the neighborhood,” she said breezily.

Theo shut the door behind her, watching as she scanned the house with a sharp eye, like she was evaluating structural stability. “We didn’t burn it down. Yet.”

“Yet,” Lydia echoed, arching a brow as she stepped into the kitchen. Her gaze landed immediately on Liam, who froze mid-sway, cheeks flushed like he’d been caught red-handed.

“Hi,” he said quickly, voice an octave too high.

Lydia smirked. “Nice apron, Liam.”

Liam glanced down at himself, the flour-dusted pink fabric still tied around his waist. He tugged at the strings awkwardly. “Uh…thanks?”

“Adorable,” Lydia said, dropping her tote bag onto the counter. She pulled out a stack of recipe cards, a whisk, and a bag of chocolate chips in quick succession. “Alright, boys. Let’s try not to end the morning with another emergency.”

Mason lifted his hands. “For the record, I was innocent.”

Theo snorted softly, shaking his head. “Sure you were.”

Lydia clapped her hands once, sharp and precise, like a teacher calling a class to order. “Okay. Aprons on. Hands washed. We’re starting with the basics.”

Mason groaned. “I just washed my hands.”

“Then wash them again,” Lydia shot back without missing a beat. She slid a recipe card across the counter like it was a battle plan. “Chocolate chip cookies. Easy, foolproof, and even you three shouldn’t be able to ruin them if you listen.”

Theo muttered, “Comforting,” under his breath, but Lydia’s eyes flicked toward him, daring him to argue.

“Apron,” she said flatly, and before Theo could escape, Liam was already tossing one at him. It landed against his chest with a puff of flour, and when Theo looked down, he was greeted by rows of kittens chasing yarn balls across pink fabric.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Liam grinned, way too pleased. “It suits you.”

Theo glared but tied it on anyway, jaw tight. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Focus,” Lydia said briskly. “Liam, you’re on dry ingredients. Mason, wet ingredients. Theo, you’re in charge of making sure nobody sets the oven on fire again.”

“That’s not even—” Theo started, but Lydia cut him off with a raised brow.

“And,” she added, tossing him a wooden spoon, “you’re stirring. You’ve got the arm strength for it.”

Mason laughed, already cracking eggs into a bowl. “Finally, someone who puts him in his place.”

Theo resisted the urge to snap the spoon in half. Instead, he glanced at Liam, who was measuring flour with laser focus, and sighed. Fine. He’d stir.

Lydia moved around them like a conductor, checking Mason’s mixing bowl, adjusting Liam’s flour ratio before he could dump too much in, nudging Theo closer to the counter when he tried to hover on the sidelines. She didn’t even look fazed by the noise, the mess, or Liam accidentally sending a puff of flour straight into Mason’s hair.

“Careful!” Mason sputtered, coughing. “You’re trying to suffocate me!”

“Relax,” Liam said, grinning through the flour cloud.

Theo pinched the bridge of his nose, but Lydia just smiled, shaking her head. “You two are exhausting. Keep stirring, Theo.”

He stirred.

By the time the dough came together, Lydia had wrangled them into something resembling teamwork. Mason scraped the sides of the bowl, Liam added chocolate chips by the handful, and Theo kept the mixture moving until it looked right. Lydia gave the final nod of approval, like a general satisfied with her troops.

“Good. Now trays,” she said, pointing. “Scoop them evenly. Not giant blobs, Liam.”

Liam immediately made a giant blob.

“Evenly,” Lydia repeated, voice sharp.

Theo smirked as he fixed the scoop, dropping a perfect round beside Liam’s mess. “See? Not that hard.”

Liam glared but copied the motion anyway.

Soon, two trays were lined with neat little scoops of dough, ready for the oven. Lydia slid them in herself, clearly not trusting anyone else with the task. She set the timer, dusted her hands, and leaned against the counter. “See? No smoke. No panic. Easy.”

Theo folded his arms, wooden spoon still in hand. “For now.”

Lydia flicked her eyes to the oven timer, then back to Liam. “So. When’s everyone showing up tonight?”

Liam perked up, brushing flour off his hands. “Six. I wanted it dark enough outside for the pumpkins to glow, but not too late, you know?”

Theo’s lips twitched. “You’ve been thinking about this way too much.”

Liam ignored him. “And we’re making food. Not just cookies.”

Lydia arched a brow. “Define ‘food.’”

Liam brightened. “Okay, so I found this recipe for troll soup—”

Theo groaned immediately. “Nope.”

“—it’s just broccoli and potatoes!” Liam said quickly, defensive. “Green, spooky, perfectly fine. And then black bread coffins—”

Mason snorted, nearly dropping the spatula he’d been rinsing. “Black bread coffins?”

“Yes!” Liam insisted. “You cut the bread into little coffin shapes and toast it. You dip it into the soup.”

Lydia tiltsher head, lips curving in faint amusement. “Actually…that doesn’t sound terrible.”

Liam lit up, shooting Theo a triumphant look. “See? Lydia gets it.”

“Lydia enables you,” Theo corrected flatly, but his eyes softened when Liam’s grin widened.

“And we’re also doing spider deviled eggs,” Liam continued, undeterred, “like with little black olive legs—”

“Creative,” Lydia said, nodding. “Gross, but creative.”

Liam beamed, shoulders lifting like he’d just won a medal. Mason, still giggling under his breath, muttered, “You’ve been on Pinterest way too much.”

“Thank you,” Liam said seriously.

Theo rubbed his face. “That wasn’t a compliment.”

Before he could spiral further, Lydia clapped her hands again, her sharp little smile returning. “Alright. Costumes.”

Mason blinked. “What? Already?”

“Yes,” Lydia said. “If I don’t take pictures before people get here, it’ll be dark, and you’ll all be sweaty, and the lighting will be terrible. So go change.”

Liam bounced on his heels, clearly thrilled. “See? I told you pictures were important!”

Theo groaned. “Lydia—”

“No arguments,” she cut in smoothly. “Upstairs. Now. All of you. And when you come back down, you’d better be camera-ready.”

Theo’s jaw tightened, but when Liam darted past him toward the stairs with way too much enthusiasm, he knew the fight was already lost.

Theo sighed, tugging uselessly at the kitten apron. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Of course,” Lydia said lightly. “Someone has to document this train wreck. And trust me—when you see the pictures, you’ll thank me.”

Theo trudged after Liam, kitten apron still dangling from his neck, muttering under his breath about how this was the stupidest holiday tradition he’d ever been roped into. Mason peeled off into the bathroom, the rustle of fabric and a muffled, “Don’t laugh when you see me, I’m warning you,” echoing faintly through the door.

That left Liam dragging Theo into their shared bedroom, already digging through the garment bag hanging off the closet handle. The bright blue of his Captain America costume peeked out, shimmering in the light. Liam’s grin was wide, teeth flashing like he couldn’t wait.

Theo eyed it with deep suspicion. “You’re way too excited about this.”

“You’re just mad because you know you won’t look as good as me,” Liam shot back, tossing the folded leather jacket onto the bed. The fake metal arm piece clattered down beside it.

Theo stared at it like it might bite. “This is ridiculous. Why am I doing this?”

“Because it’s impossible for you to say no to me,” Liam said, already peeling off his shirt like he was on a timer. His muscles flexed under the warm light, skin shifting faintly with the movement, and Theo had to snap his gaze away fast before Liam caught him staring.

Instead, he tugged at the apron strings, tossing the pink kitten fabric onto the chair in the corner, and unbuttoned his own shirt. The room filled with the sound of fabric shifting, Liam’s steady humming under his breath as he pulled on the navy suit.

Theo went slower, pulling on plain black pants and shrugging into the leather jacket. It fit snug, tighter across the shoulders than he liked, but not enough to complain about. The fake arm piece was worse — silver plastic with painted grooves, straps that dug a little when he tightened them.

He hated that it wasn’t terrible.

“See?” Liam’s voice cut through his thoughts, smug and breathless all at once.

Theo glanced up — and froze.

Liam stood in front of the mirror, tugging the last bit of the Captain America suit into place. The blue stretched over his chest, the white star centered perfectly, the red-and-white stripes snug around his waist. His cheeks were a little flushed from the effort of wrestling into it, curls a mess, blue eyes bright.

It wasn’t his first time seeing Liam in the costume, but that didn’t stop his mouth from going dry.

“You’re staring,” Liam said, grinning as he caught Theo’s reflection in the mirror.

Theo scowled instantly. “I am not.”

“Yes, you are.” Liam turned, planting his hands on his hips in a dramatic superhero pose. “Admit it. I look good.”

Theo pulled at the sleeve of the leather jacket, trying to act annoyed. “You look like a dork.”

“A hot dork,” Liam countered without missing a beat, stepping closer. His gaze dragged over Theo in the jacket, lingering at the line of the fake arm. “Seriously…you look—”

“Liam—“ Theo cut him off, ears burning.

But Liam didn’t listen. He reached out, fingers brushing the edge of the jacket where it met Theo’s collarbone. “You look hot.”

From the bathroom, Mason’s muffled voice cut in. “Are you two making out or what? Because if I come out of here in this stupid suit and you’re—”

Liam burst out laughing, forehead dropping against Theo’s shoulder. Theo sighed, long-suffering, but his hand rose automatically to Liam’s waist, steadying him.

“We’re not making out,” Theo called back, glaring toward the door.

Liam lifted his head, mischief sparking in his eyes. “Hey, Mason? If you don’t come out in the next thirty seconds, we’re definitely gonna be making out.”

Theo’s whole body went rigid. “Liam!” His voice cracked halfway through, heat rushing straight to his ears.

From the bathroom came a groan. “Oh my god. Hold your hormones, both of you. Some of us are trying to work a zipper without ripping it.”

Liam laughed so hard he had to grip Theo’s arm to keep from falling over. Theo, meanwhile, wished the floor would swallow him whole.

“You think you’re funny,” Theo muttered, voice low.

“I know I am,” Liam shot back, still grinning wide.

The bathroom door finally swung open, and Mason stepped out, striking a half-serious pose with his arms bent like cannons. The red-and-gold Iron Man suit was clearly cheap plastic, but the glow of pride on his face made up for it.

“Well?” Mason asked, spreading his arms. “You may applaud now.”

Liam whooped immediately. “Yes! That’s my best friend!” He darted over, circling Mason like he was inspecting him for battle readiness. “You look awesome. Totally nailed it.”

“Damn right I did,” Mason said smugly, flexing his arms. “I am Iron Man.”

Theo arched a brow. “More like Tin Man.”

Mason ignored him, too busy basking in Liam’s enthusiasm. But after a second, his gaze slid toward Theo.

“Okay, but…Theo actually looks hot.”

Theo stiffened, eyes narrowing, while Liam immediately slapped a hand over Mason’s chestplate. “Whoa, hey! Don’t flirt with my boyfriend!”

Mason raised both hands, grinning. “Relax, Cap. I’m just stating facts.”

Theo muttered something under his breath that might have been thanks, might have been a threat, but Liam just beamed brighter, slipping back to Theo’s side and looped an arm around his waist.

“You’re not wrong,” Liam told Mason, smirking as he squeezed Theo’s waist. “But only I get to say that.”

Mason groaned. “You two are so gross.”

Theo didn’t get a chance to respond, because Liam tugged at his hand with a victorious little grin. “Come on, Bucky. Lydia’s waiting. If we make her wait too long, she’ll probably threaten to drag us down herself.”

Mason groaned dramatically, the cheap plastic chestplate creaking as he bent forward. “Why do I feel like this night is already going to end with her bossing us around?”

“Because she is,” Theo said flatly, letting Liam pull him toward the door. “That’s literally the entire point of Lydia.”

“And you still invited her,” Mason pointed out, trudging behind them with a resigned air.

Theo glanced over his shoulder. “Correction: I called for emergency baking backup.”

They reached the stairs, Liam bouncing down them two steps at a time, shield clutched tight in his hand. Mason clattered after him, the Iron Man suit squeaking with every movement. Theo lingered for half a second at the top of the stairs, tugging at the sleeve of the leather jacket.

The moment they stepped into the living room, Lydia looked up from where she’d been scrolling through her phone on the couch. Her gaze swept over the three of them with surgical precision, pausing on every detail. A slow smile spread across her face, equal parts amused and satisfied.

“Perfect,” she said. “Line up.”

Mason blinked. “Line up?”

“Line up,” Lydia repeated, already reaching into her bag for her phone. “Superheroes don’t straggle into battle one at a time. I want the team shot.”

Liam was already on it, dragging Theo by the wrist until they stood shoulder to shoulder in the middle of the room. “C’mon, Mason! Avengers assemble!”

“This is so embarrassing,” Theo muttered under his breath, but he didn’t move away when Liam wrapped an arm around his waist again, pulling him closer.

“Embarrassing is watching Liam nearly set cookies on fire,” Mason said, finally stomping into place beside Liam. He adjusted his plastic mask, lifted his arm like it could actually fire repulsor beams, and sighed. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

“Smile,” Lydia instructed, holding up her phone.

Theo didn’t. Liam, of course, beamed like the world’s most enthusiastic golden retriever. Mason gave a lopsided grin, clearly fighting back laughter. Lydia snapped picture after picture anyway, moving around them to get different angles, bossing them into poses—Liam with his shield raised, Mason aiming his “blasters,” Theo scowling like the most reluctant Bucky Barnes to ever exist.

“Perfect,” Lydia murmured, smirking as she swiped through the shots. “Liam, you look like you were born for the part. Mason, you’re ridiculous, but it works. Theo…” She tilted the phone so he could see one of the photos — him standing stiffly, jaw tight, looking like he’d rather die than be photographed. “You’re clearly suffering.”

“I told you this was stupid,” Theo said, though his cheeks were warm.

“It’s not stupid,” Liam argued immediately, bumping his shoulder against Theo’s. “It’s tradition. You take pictures, you eat candy, you make memories. That’s how it works.”

Theo rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything in response.

“Okay, now individual shots,” Lydia said, cutting off their bickering with a clap.

“What? No,” Theo started, but Liam was already stepping forward, holding his shield up proudly as Lydia crouched for the angle. Mason flexed again, making the plastic groan, but he struck poses like he was on a red carpet.

When it was Theo’s turn, he dragged his feet, muttering under his breath the entire time. Lydia didn’t even blink, just made him turn slightly, angle the fake arm toward the light, narrow his eyes like he was threatening someone.

“See?” she said finally, satisfied as she lowered her phone. “You make a perfect Bucky.”

Theo groaned.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Mason said, tugging off his mask with a puff of air. “If we don’t check on those cookies soon, we’re gonna be eating blackened hockey pucks instead of dessert.”

Lydia slid her phone into her pocket. “You’re right. Kitchen. Let’s go.”

The timer was just starting to beep as they entered, and Lydia moved quickly, slipping on an oven mitt and pulling the trays out before anyone else had the chance to mess it up.

The smell was warm and sweet, nothing like the bitter smoke Theo woke up too. Liam inhaled deeply, sighing with satisfaction. “Oh, that’s perfect.”

Liam was already bouncing on his toes, reaching toward the tray. “Can we try one now?”

“They’re literally still molten,” Lydia said sharply, smacking his hand away. “Wait five minutes unless you want to blister your tongue.”

Liam pouted. “But—”

“No,” Lydia cut him off.

Theo snorted softly, shaking his head.

Mason leaned against the opposite counter, mask dangling from his hand. “So. We’ve got cookies. We’ve got costumes. What’s next, Cap?”

Liam brightened immediately, straightening. “The snacks! The troll soup, the black bread coffins, spider eggs—”

Theo groaned, tipping his head back against the cabinet. “Here we go again.”

*ੈ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆🕸️⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ *ੈ *ੈ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆🕸️⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ *ੈ *ੈ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆🕸️⋆ཋྀ

The doorbell rang right at six.

Theo was half-expecting Lydia back already, but when he opened the door, he was met with Stiles in a full Spiderman suit — mask in hand, hair sticking up like he’d wrestled with it on the way over. Corey stood beside him, sleek in a Black Panther costume that looked ten times more dignified than anything Stiles could’ve managed.

“Trick or treat,” Stiles said instantly, brushing past Theo before he could respond. His eyes locked on the counter where the cookies still sat cooling. “Oh thank god, food.”

Theo blinked. “Hi to you too.”

But Stiles didn’t answer. He was already stuffing a cookie into his mouth, half-bent over the tray like he’d just come back from war.

“Wow,” Theo muttered, shutting the door behind them. “This is going great already.”

Corey gave him a quick smile, more polite, then drifted into the kitchen. Mason lit up the second he saw him.

“Corey!” Mason waved a half-eaten cookie in greeting. “Babe, you look awesome.”

“You too,” Corey said, sliding into place beside him.

Theo rolled his eyes and moved toward the counter, mostly to keep an eye on Stiles, who was already reaching for a second cookie. Liam trailed in from the hallway, shield tucked under his arm, curls bouncing as he spotted who had arrived.

“Stiles, Corey!” Liam grinned wide, jogging the last few steps. “You guys look amazing.”

Corey smiled, easy and quiet. Stiles mumbled something around a mouthful of cookie that might’ve been “thanks” but sounded more like “thnff.”

“Seriously?” Theo asked, frowning at him.

“What?” Stiles said, cheeks full. He swallowed hard and grabbed another cookie. “It’s Halloween. Eating is mandatory.”

Theo pinched the bridge of his nose. “You could at least wait until everyone’s here.”

“Not how it works,” Stiles said firmly. “Food first. Then—other stuff.”

“Pumpkins,” Liam reminded him, jerking his thumb toward the table where six big pumpkins sat waiting, carving kits laid out neatly beside them. “We’re carving before we eat everything.”

Stiles followed his point, blinking at the pumpkins. “Oh. Right. You’re actually doing that?”

“Of course we’re doing that,” Liam said, almost offended. “It’s Halloween.”

Stiles shrugged. “Okay, Cap, relax. Just asking.” He crammed another cookie in his mouth.

Theo groaned. “You’re going to eat half the tray before Lydia even gets back.”

“Which is why,” Stiles said, licking sugar off his thumb, “you should’ve made more.”

Across the counter, Mason and Corey had already fallen into their own bubble. Mason was rambling about how long it took him to line up the stickers on his chestplate, and Corey was nodding like it was actually fascinating. Every so often, Corey reached for a cookie too, passing one silently to Mason like he’d been expecting him to ask.

Theo caught Liam watching them with a fond little smile.

“What?” Theo asked, squinting.

“Nothing,” Liam said quickly, but his grin gave him away. “They’re just so cute.”

Theo shook his head, grabbing the spatula out of Liam’s hand before he could start another food experiment. “If one more thing burns tonight, you’re cleaning it alone.”

Liam gasped. “That’s cruel.”

“It was cruel waking up to burnt cookies,” Theo shot back.

From the counter, Stiles pointed with his half-eaten cookie. “Hey. Those burnt ones were still edible. Kinda. If you dunked them in milk.”

“That’s not a compliment,” Theo said flatly.

Stiles just grinned, crumbs clinging to the corner of his mouth.

Liam laughed again, shaking his head as he leaned against the counter. “This is gonna be a long night.”

“Yeah,” Theo muttered, eyeing the cookies dwindling fast. “Tell me about it.”

The doorbell rang again before Theo could decide if he should physically block Stiles from the cookie tray.

Liam perked up, already moving toward the door. “That’s gotta be them.”

Theo sighed but followed, because if it wasn’t Lydia and instead another sugar-starved pack member, he wanted to be prepared.

When Liam pulled the door open, Scott stood there in a full hulk suit — except he’d clearly borrowed or bought a size too big, because the shoulders slouched a little. Lydia, though, was impossible to miss. Black Widow fit her like it had been made for her, red hair falling in waves over the sleek outfit. Malia trailed behind them, tugging at her sleeves, looking vaguely annoyed in her Scarlet Witch costume.

“Finally,” Stiles called from the kitchen. “Reinforcements!”

Scott gave him a confused look. “Reinforcements for what?”

“The cookies,” Stiles said simply, raising one in salute before taking a big bite. “They’re going fast.”

Lydia’s heels clicked against the floor as she swept inside, eyes immediately catching on the pumpkin setup at the table. “Good. You actually listened to me. That would’ve been embarrassing if we didn’t carve anything.”

“We were always going to carve,” Liam insisted.

Malia flopped into a chair at the table, pulling one of the carving tools closer. “I don’t know why you people get so excited about gutting vegetables.”

“Pumpkins,” Liam corrected.

“Still vegetables,” she said, deadpan.

Theo leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching the way Liam’s face lit up as everyone filtered in. He had been so nervous about this — getting the house decorated, making sure the pumpkins were ready, even the cookies that ended up half-burnt. Now the pack was here, loud and filling the place up, and Liam was in his element.

Scott finally noticed Theo’s outfit and grinned. “Bucky Barnes? That’s… pretty fitting, actually.”

Theo raised an eyebrow. “Not sure if that’s a compliment.”

“Definitely is,” Scott promised, then moved toward the table.

Lydia slipped into the chair across from Malia, smoothing down her costume with perfect precision. “For the record,” she said, reaching for one of the little carving saws, “if I hadn’t been here this afternoon, none of you would be eating cookies at all.”

Stiles froze mid-bite, eyes narrowing. “Wait. Hold on. What?”

Lydia arched a brow. “You think Liam and Mason made those by themselves?”

Mason lifted a hand weakly from the counter. “Hey, I tried—”

“You tried to burn the kitchen down,” Theo cut in.

“Exactly,” Lydia said, prim as ever. “So you’re welcome, Stiles. You’re eating because of me.”

Stiles stared at her, cookie halfway to his mouth, then shoved the rest of it in anyway. “Thanks.”

Liam clapped his hands together suddenly, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet. “Okay. We’re not just carving. We’re making this a contest.”

Groans rose immediately from around the table.

“Of course we are,” Malia muttered, twirling the carving tool between her fingers like a weapon. “Why does everything turn into a competition with you?”

“Because it’s fun,” Liam shot back, already grabbing the biggest pumpkin from the pile. He hefted it onto the table with a determined look. “Winner gets bragging rights until next Halloween.”

Theo, still leaning against the counter, tilted his head, smirking faintly. “You sure you want to challenge me, Captain America?”

Liam’s eyes narrowed, his grin sharpening. “Absolutely. I’ll destroy you.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles groaned, dragging a chair out. “We don’t need Competitive Boyfriend Hour right now.”

“Yes, we do,” Liam said quickly.

“You two compete over literally everything.” Mason said, exasperated.

Theo finally pushed off the counter, rolling his shoulders like he was preparing for battle. “Fine. You’re on. But don’t cry when I win.”

“Please,” Liam scoffed, setting his shield aside like he meant business. “I’ve got this in the bag.”

“Unbelievable,” Lydia muttered, already tracing a design on her pumpkin with perfect precision. “The two of you could be fighting over oxygen and somehow make it a contest.”

“They would,” Corey agreed, slipping a knife carefully into his pumpkin’s top.

Scott gave a helpless shrug and sat down, pulling a pumpkin closer. “Might as well join in. Just don’t kill each other with the knives, okay?”

“No promises,” Theo murmured, eyes locked on Liam.

Liam grinned, blue eyes bright, curls falling into his face as he stabbed the top of his pumpkin a little too forcefully. “You’re going down, Theodore.”

“Bring it on, Liam.”

Stiles smacked his forehead. “This is going to be insufferable.”

Malia already had both hands buried inside her pumpkin, ripping the guts out with a satisfied expression. “I don’t know. Watching them fight might be entertaining.”

Theo and Liam both ignored everyone else, locked in their own pumpkins.

Liam’s tongue poked at the corner of his mouth in concentration as he yanked the top of his pumpkin free. Theo, of course, managed it in one smooth twist, setting the top neatly to the side. Liam caught the smug look Theo shot him and immediately scowled.

“Show-off.”

“Loser,” Theo returned.

The rest of the pack sighed almost in unison.

“This is gonna last all night, isn’t it?” Stiles asked, already carving random shapes into his pumpkin.

“Yep,” Mason sighs. “All night.”

Pumpkin guts piled high, knives scraped against thick orange walls, and laughter spilled louder than the music in the background.

Theo leaned back, wiping his hands clean, letting the noise wash over him. Liam’s laugh was the brightest thing in the room, and for once, Theo admitted — silently — that maybe the party hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.