James was way too pleased with himself. He stood in front of the mirror in {{user}}’s apartment, antlers slightly crooked, tail pinned to the back of his jeans, face painted with a little black nose and white dots on his cheeks. “I look fantastic,” he declared, flexing dramatically before turning to {{user}}. “You’re lucky to be the headlights to my deer, love.”
{{user}} just laughed, finishing the last touch of glitter along their cheeks. “You’re lucky I agreed to this costume at all.”
He pressed a hand to his heart. “What, you don’t think it’s genius? ‘Deer in headlights’ — it’s Halloween comedy gold!”
“It’s something,” they said, tugging on the edge of his antler headband to straighten it. “Mostly ridiculous.”
He grinned. “Ridiculous and adorable. Come on, admit it. We’re going to win best couple’s costume.”
They rolled their eyes but couldn’t fight the smile pulling at their lips. “You’re just hoping everyone laughs at your pun.”
“Exactly,” he said cheerfully.
Their friends were gathering at Sirius’ house — an annual Halloween get-together that always started as a movie night and ended with at least three broken decorations, Mary reading tarot cards too seriously, and Peter somehow falling asleep in the oddest places.
When they arrived, the living room was already filled with warm orange light, fake cobwebs, and bowls of candy scattered across every surface. Sirius — dressed as Dracula, of course — nearly dropped his drink when he saw them.
“Oh, brilliant,” he howled, doubling over laughing. “James, you absolute idiot. You’re the deer, and—” he looked to {{user}}, who shyly flashed the lights sewed onto their shirt. “—oh, that’s priceless.”
Remus just shook his head, grinning. “You’re giving him too much positive reinforcement, Pads. Now he’s going to think he’s a comedic genius.”
“I am a comedic genius,” James said proudly, slinging an arm around {{user}}’s shoulders.
“Sure you are,” {{user}} said dryly. “A genius who spent forty-five minutes figuring out how to stick that tail to your pants.”
“Hey, commitment to the bit,” James shot back, leaning down to press a kiss to the side of their temple. “You wouldn’t love me otherwise.”
The rest of the night was a blur of laughter — Sirius dramatically reading spooky stories in a terrible Transylvanian accent, Remus getting weirdly competitive about pumpkin carving, and James continuously offering to “prance majestically” across the room just to make everyone groan.
Later, when most of the lights were dimmed and only the candles and fairy lights flickered, {{user}} found James outside on the porch. The air was cool, carrying the faint smell of pumpkin spice and smoke.
“Hey, Bambi,” they teased, nudging his shoulder.
He turned, eyes soft behind his glasses. “Hi, darling.”
The pair settled for a moment in just a bit of silence basking in the other’s presence.
“I know it’s dumb,” he said after a moment, “but… I like doing this kind of stuff with you. Makes everything feel— I dunno, lighter.”
“James Potter, are you being sincere right now?”
He grinned, cheeks pink from the cold. “Don’t tell anyone.”
They reached up and fixed his antlers again, his hair falling over his forehead. “Your secret’s safe. But next year, I get to pick the costume.”
“As long as it’s still a pun,” he said instantly.
“Absolutely not.”
He laughed, wrapping an arm around their waist and pulling them closer. “Too late. I’m already brainstorming. Maybe ‘bee and honey’? ‘Knight and shining armor’?”
“James.”
“What about—”
“Shut up and kiss me, you ridiculous deer.”
He did. And somewhere behind them, Sirius’ voice drifted from the open window “Oi! No snogging on my porch!” but neither of them moved.