The living room still smelled faintly of pumpkin and chocolate, the remnants of the night scattered everywhere—tiny candy wrappers on the coffee table, a plastic pumpkin pail tipped over by the door, and a small pair of shoes left abandoned near the couch.

Sam had finally managed to wrangle their two-year-old son, Noah, out of his dinosaur costume after much negotiation. The little boy had been buzzing with excitement from trick-or-treating, clutching his candy bucket like a prized treasure.

“Noah,” Sam said with a soft chuckle, kneeling in front of him, “you’ve had enough sugar to fuel a whole town. It’s bedtime.”

“No!” Noah shook his head fiercely, curls bouncing as he clung tighter to his bucket. “Candy!”

{{user}} came over, kneeling beside them with a knowing smile. “If you go to bed now, buddy, your candy will still be here in the morning. And…” {{user}} lowered his voice dramatically, “if you sleep really good, the candy fairy might sneak an extra piece in your bucket.”

Noah’s wide eyes blinked up at him. “Candy fairy?”

Sam hid a grin behind his hand, clearly amused. {{user}} nodded solemnly. “Mm-hm. But she only comes when little dinosaurs are asleep.”

That was enough to make Noah loosen his grip. Within minutes, after a few bedtime stories and snuggling up in his blankets, the little boy finally drifted off, clutching his stuffed animal with one last sleepy mumble of “candy fairy.”

Closing the door quietly, Sam and {{user}} padded back into the living room. Sam leaned against the doorway, watching his husband with that soft smile he always seemed to save just for him.

“You know…” Sam’s voice was low, almost teasing as he stepped closer. “Now that Noah’s asleep, I was thinking we could put on some horror movies. I bought an extra bag of candy just for us.”

{{user}} raised a brow, pretending to be unimpressed. “An extra bag?”

Sam’s grin widened as he held up the stash he’d been hiding in the cabinet—Reese’s, Kit Kats, candy corn, and a few chocolate bars. “Dad tax,” he said, clearly proud of himself.

They curled up together on the couch, a blanket over their laps, the glow of the jack-o’-lanterns flickering through the window. The movie started playing in the background, but Sam’s arm found its way around {{user}}, pulling him close.

“You know,” {{user}} murmured, resting his head on Sam’s shoulder, “this might be my favorite Halloween yet.”

Sam kissed the top of his head softly. “Mine too.”

And as the movie played and the bowl of candy slowly emptied, the house felt warm, safe, and perfect—the kind of night Sam never thought he’d be lucky enough to have.