“I have a better idea ...”

Boone nodded, crooking his gloved finger and wriggling it back toward himself. “Why don’t you bring a few of those pumpkin beers with you and come see how I decorated?”

“Now you’re talking!” Dayton didn’t even hesitate, practically dropping his candy dish on the porch before ducking inside and, moments later, slipping back out the screen door bearing a six-pack of pumpkin beer under his arm.

Boone literally shivered with excitement, rapidly setting down his hastily carved jack o’ lantern on the stoop as Dayton bound up the steps, garish yellow cape fluttering in the gentle October breeze.

They stood awkwardly, Dayton a good three or four inches taller, beaming down at Boone through his officially licensed Gamma Man mask while Boone glanced upward in his bootleg Radon Ralph gear. “I ... I can’t believe this,” Dayton gushed as Boone guided him toward a pair of mismatched wicker chairs in the corner of the porch, one on either side of his flickering pumpkin. “Not just the costumes, but ... everything.”

Boone sank into his chair first, as if to lure Dayton down into his. It worked, the big, sexy ass nerd first fluttering out his cape like a debutante swishing her skirt before sitting down at her coming out party. They cracked open beers, neither rushing to sip without a toast first.

“To pleasant surprises,” Dayton beamed, making Boone feel guilty as they clinked glasses. “What? What’s with the face?”

Boone summoned a quick smile, clinking bottle tops with his houseguest and promising himself he’d confess later, just ... not quite yet. “Oh nothing,” he murmured, wriggling his beer bottle toward the winking porch lights and flickering pumpkin. “Just that I wish I’d decorated sooner, that’s all. I like ... this.”

Dayton sipped his beer thoughtfully, lips full around the top of his bottle, distracting Boone from peering at his own handiwork: the lights, the hanging witches, the fluttering ghosts, the flickering jack o’ lantern. “Nothing saying you have to take it down right away,” Dayton murmured, Boone savoring his first sip of cold, rich pumpkin beer of the evening. But, hopefully, not his last.

“True enough,” he murmured. “It’s just, like you said, time gets away from you.”

Dayton chuckled, lips moist from his second sip. Boone made a face behind his itchy blue mask. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, just, last night you could have given two shits about Halloween. Tonight? You’re not ready for it to be over yet. I don’t get you, Boone. I really don’t.”

“I don’t get me, either,” Boone confessed. “I guess, someone I just met talked me into remembering something I thought I’d forgotten.”

“What? Like how to hang paper ghosties?” He batted one playfully as the gentle breeze brought it just into range.

Boone shook his head, his own fluttering cape rasping with the effort. “Like how to get excited about ... making new friends ... again.”

Dayton nodded, sitting up slightly. Jesus, he looked good in tights! And a cape, and a mask, too. “It’s nice, right? Making new ... friends?”

“Almost as good as trick or treating,” Boone teased, waving his half-empty beer bottle.

Dayton nodded, then sighed. “It’s a little like trick or treating, actually.”

“How so?”

“I mean, you never know what you’re gonna get with a new ... friend, right?”

Boone nodded. He’d been tricked plenty since coming out his senior year, with the treats coming few and far between in the years since, that was for sure. Still, something about Dayton made it worth the risk of being tricked once more. “What vibe are you getting from me right now, Dayton? Trick? Or ... treat?”

“Hand me another beer, there, Radon Ralph, and I’ll answer you when I’m brave enough.”