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Halloween was easily Leif’s favorite holiday growing up, no questions about it. An excuse to pretend to be someone else, an abundance of candy, and, once he’s older, an excuse to spend a weekend letting himself do reckless things that he wouldn’t otherwise partake in with friends. It’s fun and it’s easy, even if it often forces him to step outside his comfort zone. He finds it much easier to step out of that zone in the guise of someone else; a superhero or a favorite character, not him.
So, he found himself at a party (a couple of towns over, anyways; even if he was in a full The Flash costume, face hidden sans jaw, he didn’t particularly wanna see anyone he knew) where he was pretty certain that they’d played Monster Mash at least four times but the shitty mixed drink he was sipping off of seemed to make him lose the ability to be bothered by it, combined with the rush of costumed bodies dancing around him.
He was about three drinks in when the sensible wookie approached him and started wordlessly dancing to the music that had moved from ‘halloween chic’ to ‘trashy pop’. The costume didn't really make sense, it was just a wookie mask and a shirtless guy, and usually he would try to talk to the guy about how wrong he was, but he found that he didn’t really care about the cleverness of the costume when the guy was asking if he wanted to ‘make out or something’ (though it came out muffled through the wookie mask) and his eyes were already closed by the time the guy took off the mask and sloppily crashed their lips together.
It wasn't necessarily good. It was messy and they were both way too drunk to competently do anything that felt good, but the guy’s hands holding his hips tight and pressing their bodies as close together as possible wasn’t a feeling Leif got to experience often and fuck if he wasn't gonna let himself enjoy it now.
When he pulled away and let his eyes refocus to the face that had been so easily connected with his own, it was a shock to his system, an instant sobering.
“Tobin?”
“Leif - fuck, dude,”
“You --”
“I’m not --”
“This isn’t --”
“Alright, cool, uh, see you Monday,”
And when they saw each other on Monday, neither of them acknowledged it. They were both quite happy to pretend that they had been kissing a stranger and keep bro-ing it up until Leif left for college and Tobin steadily avoided college.
Leif graduated and he and Tobin both moved to San Francisco for a job at a tech start-up and they decided that splitting rent on a San Francisco apartment would be infinitely easier on their wallets. Easy enough and they got to spend more time together, it was a win all around.
It was about two years after they were hired, at a SPRQpoint employee Halloween party (it was supposed to be an opportunity to network and push their newest product, all while dressed up, which should’ve been Leif’s dream evening, but he’d had a spectacularly bad day and quite frankly, just wanted to go home and crash more than anything) that the memory managed to resurface for both of them.
For the first time since high school, Leif donned the Flash costume that had been shoved in the back of his closet since the beginning of his Senior year (his love for Halloween had majorly waned in college and the outfit itself kind of brought back thoughts of his best friend’s tongue shoving itself into his mouth and, as much as he enjoyed that thought, that wasn’t exactly something he wanted to be thinking about often).
Leif had consumed more than his fair share of shitty Halloween-pun-named cocktails (mostly due to the aforementioned spectacularly bad day) and he had ditched the mask of his costume when Tobin caught him sulking being casually aloof sitting on the huge stairs.
“Dude, what’s up? You’re moping.” Tobin sat down next to him and he tried not to think about how good he looked in his Han Solo costume, chest hair peeking out of the v-neck, because those were just not thoughts he could have about his best friend and he was usually at least better about repressing them.
He could tell that Tobin had had more than his fair share, too; his careless movements and sloppy posture weren't actually too different from sober Tobin, but after knowing him this long, it was easier to notice the subtle tells (the lopsided smirk and disheveled hair were shining clues).
“I’m not moping.”
“You’re kind of moping.”
“I’m not - I’m fine, Tobes. Enjoy the party, dance to the fifth time they've played the Addams Family theme song, I know you love the snaps.”
“Do you wanna head home?” Tobin nudged his elbow into Leif’s arm, a gesture probably meant to comfort that instead left Leif’s stomach in knots.
“Nah.” He shook his head half-heartedly, to which Tobin responded by just raising his eyebrows. “I mean, yes, obviously, but you should enjoy yourself.”
“I’m calling an Uber.”
“Tobes, n —“
“I’m calling an Uber, dude. Seriously, it’s not a big deal, ya boy is getting uncharacteristically sleepy anyways.”
So, they stumbled out of the party early, waiting for their Uber in the sobering, chilly air. By the time they climbed into the back seat, Leif was feeling better, idle chatter with Tobin calming the pounding in his head and slowly untying the knots in his stomach. Tobin always had a way of making life feel easy.
It felt less easy, though, when Tobin’s eyes locked with Leif’s once they were silently in the car, small smiles on their faces before Tobin slowly moved forward and kissed him, resting one hand on his face and moving closer across the backseat, hesitating before resting his other hand on Leif’s thigh.
Leif knew it was a bad idea to let this happen. It could so easily draw out the feelings he’d worked so hard since high school to repress; they were there, though, undeniably, under the surface of his skin, and Tobin’s lips on his were working hard to pull them out, breaking through and tearing what he thought was thick skin, an inch away from spilling out and suffocating them.
Against his better judgement, he kissed back, letting his hands grip the vest of Tobin’s costume to pull him closer and letting small moans up through his throat when Tobin’s hand rubbed up his thigh, dangerously close to where he could feel a hard-on growing.
Before he had time to actually process what was happening and enjoy it, the Uber driver coughed from the front seat and alerted them that they’d arrived at their apartment, forcing them apart to make panicked eye contact for a second before nodding awkwardly and silently at each other and getting out of the car.
Tobin left the driver a tip that far out-valued what the trip was worth and they still didn’t talk about it.
A couple years later, a week before Halloween, a flyer was passed out through their apartment building. Golden Gate Grind: Free pastry (with purchase of coffee) to anyone dressed up on the thirty-first. Get your grind on!
And yeah, okay, maybe that wasn’t even a particularly good deal, he’d still have to buy a coffee, and he'd had to read the words 'get your grind on' in reference to a coffee shop, but it was an excuse to don a costume again and if he left the ad out on the coffee table and hoped Tobin saw it, too, he’d swear it wasn’t on purpose.
So, he walked into the Golden Gate Grind on Halloween in the Westley (or, technically, Dread Pirate Roberts, he guessed, since he was wearing the full black with a mask and sword) costume he’d thrown together and he let himself smile when he saw Tobin (or… Batman if he was believing the almost offensively lazy costume of a Batman mask that he knew he already owned with a black t-shirt and black jeans) sitting in a booth in the back with a coffee and pastry sitting in front of him.
He approached carefully, hand resting nervously on the sword hanging from his hip, foregoing getting his free pastry entirely (he’d come to terms with the fact that that was not at all what he was there for).
“Fancy seeing you here.” He tried to be casual, leaning up against the side of the booth in an attempt to be smooth, but it looked a lot more like he just didn’t really know what he was doing.
“You wanna just skip the preamble?”
“God, yeah,” The tension fell from his shoulders as he slid into the same side of the booth and Tobin turned to face him, wasting no time in crashing their lips together, tongue swiping at his bottom lip, asking for permission (which was very quickly granted).
Tobin’s hands made haste to wander, feeling his chest beneath the mostly-unbuttoned black shirt, until he let one rest on the back of the booth to his left and let the other rest on Leif’s thigh, rubbing gently and making his stomach feel like a freakin’ confetti bomb was going off.
He felt like he should’ve been ashamed or embarrassed, they were in public for crying out loud. Not even at a bar or a club, this was a coffee shop; yet, he couldn’t quite bring himself to care when Tobin was pulling him closer and pushing into him simultaneously, as if they could get any closer to each other.
And when they went home, they still didn’t talk about it.
Halloween bonding. A night Leif would never forget and it was all because of Zoey Clarke. Over the past year or so, he had been starting to get freakily suspicious that she could literally read his mind or something, because there was no other way she could always know exactly what was going on in his head and the exact worst situations to force him into.
It wasn’t that his feelings for Tobin had grown stronger, it was just that he was finally letting himself acknowledge them (and it had nothing to do with the weird pride he had in seeing Tobin take charge around the office and show some initiative; that did not at all make him more attracted to Tobin, and if you said it did, Leif would call you a liar). In the last year, he’d had a huge hand in what was shaping up to be a very successful project for the company, he’d had a whirlwind “romance” with his boss, and he’d found a new appreciation for the dynamic on the fourth floor.
So, when Zoey said the team should dress up and come over to her apartment for some ‘team-bonding’, he could at least say the idea was more appealing than it ever would’ve been a year prior. Or, it would’ve been, if literally any other members of the team had showed up (and he suspects now that this is not a team-bonding activity she’ll try to repeat).
As it was, it was just Leif, Tobin, and Zoey in shitty costumes getting tipsy and having the most painstakingly awkward small talk. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Zoey; they were at least on better terms than they were a year ago and, from what he understood, she and Tobin were closer to actual friends now. It was just awkward.
Eventually, they got to more comfortable topics (Star Wars and Harry Potter were at least things he could discuss, as opposed to exhausting topics like ‘how are you’? because he knew she really didn’t want the answer to that) and he found himself actually having a good time until he and Tobin decided to walk home (and he’s not sure if Zoey would be horrified or humored to know that they live within walking distance of her apartment).
They chatted idly on the way home, about movies and games and things that ultimately didn’t matter. But as he listened to Tobin talk, he realized, looking down at his own Ninja Turtle onesie and Tobin’s lazy Marty McFly costume, that this was the first Halloween they’d celebrated in a long time where they didn’t have an excuse. There were no masks they could use to pretend they didn’t know each other, the little bit of alcohol they’d had had long since been processed through their system. Here they were, dressed up with absolutely nowhere to go from there.
It was only after they’d entered their apartment and Leif was locking the door behind them that Tobin’s gaze landed suspiciously on him.
“Hey. You’ve been really quiet tonight.”
“Me? What do you mean? I’ve been talking all night, dude.”
“Nah, but you were quiet on the way home. What’s goin’ on in that big ol’ brain?”
He thought for a second of just saying he was tired and going to bed, but he quickly decided that wouldn’t be fair to either of them, especially when Tobin actually looked pensive and worried, making the knots turn over and over in Leif’s stomach.
“I just, uh,” He didn’t really know how to say it, how to make the words he wanted to say form in his throat. “No masks. No booze. It’s just us. Here. I don’t know, it’s --”
“It’s weird, right?” Tobin interrupted him and let out a huff of a laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck. At least Leif finally had confirmation that he wasn’t going insane and this whole thing hadn’t been one-sided. Tobin shook his head incredulously. “Why don’t we just do this? For real, dude. I’m kinda sick of... hiding behind a mask.”
“For real? You’d want a ‘for-real’?”
Tobin looked dumbstruck, completely disbelieving and shocked.
“Would I want a ‘for-real’?” His tone was almost mocking, a scoff pushing through his lips. “Dude, why do you think I’ve been finding dumb excuses to make out with you? No offense, but if I just wanted a warm body against mine, I could get that anywhere. I can’t…” He hesitated, before shaking his head and deciding to let himself be vulnerable; it was only fair, he thought. “I can’t get you anywhere.”
Leif didn’t know how to respond at first. He felt a little like there was an electric current running through his brain as he processed, swallowing heavily and looking to the side while he let his brain catch up to his ears. When it finally did, he let himself exhale, a laugh coming out with his breath.
“Alright. For real.”
All it took was confirmation and a smile for Tobin to cross from where he was standing to pull Leif’s head down and kiss him again. This time, no other thoughts crossed Leif’s mind. No thoughts of how he should feel or what he should be doing; instead, he let himself focus on the feel of Tobin’s lips on his own and his hands stabilizing him on either side of his neck. He let himself focus on the feel of a puffy orange vest clenched in his fists and the small sounds Tobin was making in the back of his throat. He let himself relish in it because it was for real and they both wanted this and they both wanted each other and he literally couldn’t ask for more.
And when they woke up the next morning, Tobin’s head nestled into Leif’s neck, shirtless chest rising and falling beneath a splayed out hand, they did talk about it. They talked about it a lot and they might’ve done some not talking on top of that, but Leif felt a special kind of peace fall over his small bedroom as they let what felt inevitable finally overcome them.