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Asa Fell always loved the idea of Halloween: an evening where he could dress up and pretend to be someone he wasn’t. At the age of fifty-five, Asa was quite pleased with his life. He loved his partner and his job, and there was really no reason to wish he was anyone else.
Still, how often would he have an excuse like this to dress up? He played Santa for the children around Christmastime, but that was different. The fluffy red suit was nothing like the freedom Halloween offered.
Anthony was terribly easy to convince on the whole matter, in fact it was he who insisted upon a couples costume with a kiss to Asa’s grinning cheek.
The evening passed in a blur of feathers and glittery fabric and a visit to the Dirty Donkey pub for a costume party. They spent the evening on each other’s arms, Asa dressed as an angel (“Because you’re my angel, Angel!”) and Anthony as a demon, black wings the perfect inverse of Asa’s white set (“oh, you fiend…”). They danced, twirling together to the almost-too-loud music, too drunk off laughter and love to bother with their drinks.
The duo would return to Anthony’s flat at the end of the evening, stealing kisses in the cab and teasing each other in whispers. They’d start slowly, carefully, as they tripped through the bedroom doorway, refusing to lose any contact between them as they moved, coming together in this way for the first time. Soft touches gained confidence, kisses pressed to warm skin. Nervous stiffness melted away under sighing breath, as sweet I love you’s sighed into the air.
Asa Fell never wanted to be anyone else, promised himself he’d never even pretend, because it was only him that got to love Anthony Crowley like this.