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Hank couldn't remember the last time he'd been to a Halloween party, let alone hosted one.
It would have been when Cole was alive, no doubt, but the exact date he couldn't recall. Honestly, he didn't think on it too much - he just knew it'd been around that time. He'd been invited to his fair share of parties, but much like all social gatherings, Hank had either politely declined or outright ghosted any invites.
So when Connor had suggested they host a Halloween party at their new place - part housewarming event, part celebrating the season - he was naturally apprehensive. Connor didn't push - he was good like that, never guilting Hank into a decision even if it was something he really wanted - but the thought played on Hank's mind in the days that followed. They probably should throw some kind of housewarming event. And for all of Hank's apprehensions about large groups, he did want to have his friends round to break in the new place. And a fancy dress party was a good way to get everyone excited, as well as providing a sort of social crutch if Hank ran out of conversation starters. It was so much easier to talk to people when you could chat shit about stupid Halloween outfits.
So Hank caved. Connor seemed pleased - he was clearly trying to play it cool, but Hank could sense the relief in the androids eyes - he'd clearly been pretty excited about the concept. He assumed Connor had never been to a Halloween party, which the android more or less confirmed a few days later when the usual barrage of questions started. 'How many decorations are we expected to put up?' 'What is the appropriate number of pumpkins to keep inside of the house?' 'Does all of the food have to be horror themed?' 'Do we need to provide all of the guests with a trick or treat bag?'. Hank stopped him in his tracks pretty quickly, clapping a hand on his back as the other man scrolled through online Halloween stores on the tablet with a frown, simply letting him know that they'd do whatever they wanted with the decorations - and no, adults didn't need to be given trick or treat bags. Feeling Connor’s shoulders sag a little, he rubbed small, comforting circles into his partner’s back, letting him know that he was happy with whatever he wanted to do.
Connor had settled pretty quickly on them doing some kind of couples costume - again, Hank was happy to comply (this wasn't exactly his first rodeo, even if it had been a while - he wanted Connor to get the full enjoyment from this party), even if he was a little nervous about what the other man would eventually settle on.
Hank wouldn't have ever in a million years predicted that Connor would settle on Gomez and Morticia Addams for their costumes, but he supposed it was a classic choice for a couples costume. Connor didn’t inform Hank of this decision of course, he found out when the costumes arrived on the front porch one brisk autumn morning, but Connor was insistent that they could return them if he wanted to wear something different - they still had a few weeks until Halloween after all. Connor wouldn't show Hank his get up, insisting it was a ‘surprise for the party’, but as Hank looked across at himself in the mirror and imagined how he'd look on the night with slicked back hair and a scribbled on moustache, he supposed it wasn't the worst costume his partner could have settled on for them. Connor always had a good knack for coming up with ideas, he supposed.
The invites went out shortly after that, and the usual mixture of work colleagues and friends were sent spooky mailers, asking them to give up their Halloween evening for a ‘night of horror and spooooooky scares’. Connor extended the invite to a few of the androids from Jericho as well as some members of the knitting group he'd joined recently, and Hank…well, he mostly stuck to work colleagues. He hadn't exactly stayed in touch with anyone else over the years. That was fine - it didn't need to be a grand affair.
They reluctantly invited Gavin under the strict agreement that Nines ensured he was on his best behaviour. Gavin had been better recently, and Hank couldn't fault the effort he'd actually put in with Connor (although he couldn’t be sure if that was out of a genuine desire to make right by Connor or to appease Nines), but it was still Gavin and it was a party with alcohol, so there was no harm in setting those boundaries early. Outside of them, they were expecting Tina and Chris, a few guys from forensics, a couple of the newer detectives...Hank had invited Fowler who had politely declined - he said he already had plans with family, but Hank suspected he didn't want to mix with his staff outside of a work setting, which Hank couldn't argue with. Their relationship had improved since Hank had cut down on his drinking and Connor had moved in, so he didn't feel too bad about it.
In total they were expecting around twenty guests, which was about the limit Hank thought he could handle. After all these years, he'd kind of just assumed his anxiety around social events would have faded into the background, but there you go. When the night of the party rolled around, he found a knot settling deep in his gut, but he mostly ignored it. Par for the course.
He opted to shave off most of his beard for the occasion, giving him the leeway to trim the remaining hair into something that resembled Gomez's sharp moustache. Hank had toyed with picking up some cheap black hairspray to complete the look, but Connor insisted that he'd look fine with his natural grey. Judging by the mischievous look in his partner’s eyes, he somewhat suspected Connor had already pre-constructed how the outfit would look on him, and had evidently decided that rocking the ensemble with silver hair was more to his tastes. Hank wasn't gonna argue. In the end, he did settle on painting the 'tasche with some cheap face paint, just to make it stand out, but he left his hair au naturel.
Checking his outfit over in the full length bedroom mirror, Hank had to admit he didn't totally hate how he looked in it. It had been a while since he'd worn a suit, and while the pinstripe look wasn't something he'd likely ever wear again outside of a Halloween setting, he did like it. It made him think back to his youth, a call-back to the emo trend of striped skinny jeans. Feeling a little inspired, he grabbed the face paint and applied a thick black line under his lower eyelids. It wasn't quite eyeliner, but dabbing at it with a tissue seemed to give the smokey-eye look he was after, so feeling accomplished with his handiwork, he stepped out of the bedroom.
"Hello, handsome," Connor practically purred from the other side of the living room. Connor was already dressed because of course he was, perched on a stool, arms raised up to tie some ghost bunting across the doorframe. He turned his head and the sight near enough knocked Hank out cold. Connor was wearing a long, slinky black dress, curved at the hips before cascading down to his ankles in trails. He must have ordered something custom, Hank thought to himself, because it fit Connor's lithe form well in all the right places. A deep v-neck gave way to a flash of skin and the long sleeves flared out, lined with a delicate spider web patterned filigree. He'd opted to forgo the wig, but in the end he must have settled for a comfortable compromise like Hank had with the moustache, because his hair was now a deep ebony.
Connor had naturally completed the look with a full face of makeup, which Hank knew he'd applied by hand. He did have the ability to install a custom programme to achieve the look, but he'd expressed a curiosity about the creative process, so it made sense that tonight he'd try it out. Clearly, he had a knack for it - his cheekbones were defined by a deep contour and some highlighter, giving the appearance of a more chiselled bone structure. A dark smokey-eye was paired with pointed eyeliner, further complemented with thick lashes and a glossy red lipstick. Connor had been experimenting with growing his hair out over the past few months, forgoing the rigid Cyberlife cut, so asides from the change in colour, he'd styled it his usual way, letting a few errant curls fall across his forehead.
As he stepped down from the stool carefully, Hank spotted the black heels and gulped, wondering just how much taller that would make him this evening. When Connor’s hands found the lapels of Hank's jacket, he spotted painted black nails. "You look great," the android murmured as Hank leant down to meet him with a light peck on the lips.
"You looked in the mirror recently? And you think I look good. Damn."
"You like it?" Connor preened, stepping back just enough to give Hank a little twirl. "I'm quite partial to the whole look, personally. Perhaps a bit much for the day to day."
"Well, you look smokin' hot, baby. You always do, but today especially," Hank growled, pulling the android in by the waist for an embrace, running his palms up and down his trim waistline, unable to stop his wandering hands. "Gonna struggle to keep my hands off 'ya tonight."
"You and me both," Connor confessed, running his palms along Hank's arms tenderly. "Although I suppose that would be in character, wouldn’t it? I like the moustache, by the way," he confirmed, reaching his hands up to cup Hank's chin so he could inspect it better.
"Do you need me to do anything?" Hank asked, casting a glance around the room. Connor had insisted on doing the bulk of the decorations himself - he was hosting his first Halloween party, after all, and he clearly had a vision - but Hank couldn't help but feel a little guilty for not getting more involved. Most of the food had been store-bought, at least, although Connor had prepared a few fruit punches, complete with labels like 'Vampires Blood' and 'Witches Brew'. Hank always found Connor's enthusiasm to be endearing, but tonight it was especially cute. It brought back memories of Hank's youth, Halloween get-togethers with his college roommates. The memories made him feel wistful, setting off a comfortable warmth in his chest that wasn't unwelcome.
"You could hang these up outside in the back garden, actually," Connor replied, moving across to the dining room table to pick up a few boxes of 'spooky' fairy lights, silhouette shapes of green ghosts and purple witches on broomsticks.
"Sure. Anywhere in particular you want 'em?" Hank asked, taking the boxes from his partners hand, but not before placing a feather-light kiss on his forehead. He spotted Connor's small smile at the action and was once again reminded of the fact that he'd never grow tired of that face.
It was at that moment that Sumo came bumbling in from the spare room, and Hank couldn't help but let out a deep, full-bellied laugh. Connor had made the big buffoon into Cousin It, giving him a little bowler hat with black sunglasses attached, long trails of fake fluffy hair falling on either side of the dogs face, giving the appearance that his hair was longer than it actually was, hanging low down to his paws. The fluffy fool looked absolutely thrilled with himself when he picked up on Hank's laughter, galloping over to them both as they fussed him, ruffling his long hair.
The guests started arriving within the hour and Hank found himself surprised with how well he was handling it all. Playing host made the process a little easier on him than he remembered; he floated between groups of guests long enough to catch up, but not so long that he felt the anxiety gnawing away at him. Connor swanned around, ever the attentive host, offering drinks and snacks whilst encouraging their visitors to try their hand at apple bobbing. Whenever Connor was within distance, Hank would pull him in and smother him in affection, kissing each delicate finger or cradling him by the waist and dipping him, sealing the deal with a quick kiss. They never overdid it, it was all flamboyance and theatrics, but they both clearly enjoyed showering each other with affection so openly. They weren’t usually ones for public PDA, but hey, it was Halloween.
Even Reed was on his best behaviour for the most part, aside from a flyaway comment about Connor’s outfit. Unphased, Connor launched right into a lecture on gender as a social construct, before Gavin waved his hands and insisted he was just joking. Judging by the light rose tint to his cheeks, visible even through his werewolf face paint, Hank had a suspicion he wasn’t against Connor’s outfit at all. The curious glance he cast towards Nines, who was busy conversing with North on the other side of the living room, was plenty telling on it’s own.
After a few hours, Hank’s nerves started trickling back to the surface, so he excused himself to take a breather in the garden. Standing with his back to the house, head leant back against the cool brick, he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths - in, and out. In, and out.
He wasn’t sure just how much time had passed, but he opened his eyes when he felt a presence hovering just a few metres away.
“I hope I’m not intruding,” Simon asked. When Hank shook his head, the man moved closer, standing beside him. “It was very sweet of you to invite us.”
“S’no trouble,” Hank replied. “We appreciate you coming. First Halloween party?”
Simon nodded, as though thinking for a moment, before turning his head to one side to meet Hank’s gaze. “You know, I didn’t really see the appeal up until now. Dressing up in costumes, standing in a room together talking...I just didn’t really get it. But-” he continued, looking up at the dark evening sky, filled with stars, “I think I do now. It’s nice to let go for a while. And...traditions seem important, even if the meaning behind them isn’t something I have any personal connection to. They do seem to bring everyone together.”
“Give it time, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of android traditions I’ll have to try and learn about,” Hank scoffed, letting out a low breath as he turned his attention to the sky, just as a firecracker fizzled and burst before their eyes. Hank could hear the whooping of young voices when the firework exploded, probably the neighbours. “But yeah. It is nice to get everyone together every once in a while, isn’t it?”
Simon didn’t answer, simply nodding his head in agreement. Hank noticed a slight quiver in the other man’s hands and spotted the warm yellow of his LED reflected across the glass, but chose not to comment on it. They stayed like that for a few minutes, looking up at the sky in companionable silence, until the sliding door opened behind them. Markus, dressed as a pirate, complete with eyepatch, poked his head out through the gap.
“Hey, guys. You both okay?”
“Just getting some fresh air,” Simon replied with a smile. “Hank’s been keeping me company.”
“Great,” Markus replied, seemingly satisfied, turning his attention to Hank. “We’ll catch up later, Lieutenant.”
“It’s just Hank in this house,” he replied with a chuckle as Markus motioned in apology. “I’ll come and find you in a bit.”
Markus shot Simon a final warm smile, his LED circling from yellow to a cool blue, before closing the glass door behind him. After a moment, Hank turned his head towards the android who stood beside him, eyeing him with curiosity. Neither one of them said anything - and for all of Hank’s previous unfounded fears that humans and androids wouldn’t understand one another, in that moment, he understood that he and Simon were alike in at least one way.
Unspoken words passed between them, and they remained in a comfortable silence a little while longer as the cool breeze surrounded them. Hank felt the tightening in his chest start to subside, his breathing slowing gradually to a normal level. In the end, Hank was the one to move first, pushing himself up from the wall and making his way across the garden to rejoin the party without a word said. Simon followed close behind, shooting Hank an appreciative smile as he closed the glass door, before he rejoined his friends, currently trying their hands at apple bobbing.
Hank found Connor chatting to some of his knitting group friends in the kitchen, and when their eyes met he spotted that unmistakable spark in Connor’s pupils, lips tilting up into a smile. Putting on his game face, Hank took a deep breath and clapped an arm around Connor, launching into hearty chatter with everyone.
The night concluded in the garden with Connor passing around sparklers to all of the remaining guests. He even pulled out the analogue camera for the occasion, an anniversary gift from Hank, something he knew the android treasured dearly. After taking a few long exposure snaps of Josh and North writing their names, followed by Nines writing something unsavoury about his partner who stood beside him, seemingly unaware, much to the amusement of Tina, the guests gradually started to say their goodbyes.
When the house was finally empty, Hank collapsed on the sofa with a thump, kicking off his shoes as he went. Sumo had already gone to bed hours before, the excitement of new friends and attention wearing off pretty quickly, leaving the happy couple alone in a messy living room. Connor busied himself in the kitchen for a few minutes, wiping surfaces and putting bowls in the sink before joining Hank on the sofa, collapsing on top of him without much warning, the train of his dress flying through the air as he settled onto Hank’s collapsed form. Hank groaned loudly, only half serious, as Connor snuggled in, wrapping his arms around his partner's neck.
“Thank you for tonight,” Connor whispered, “I had a wonderful evening.”
“I’m glad, sweetheart,” Hank mumbled tiredley, taking one of Connor’s hands in his own and kissing the palm. “Can you believe Gavin was mostly well-behaved?”
“Nines has that effect on him,” Connor mused, running his hands absent-mindedly across Hank’s chest. “I hope I wasn’t torturing him too much with that lecture, but I have to confess, the look of horror on his face when he thought I’d taken his comment to heart was entertaining.”
“To live without you, only that would be torture,” Hank declared proudly with a smile, waving a hand through the air dramatically as he spoke.
“A day alone, only that would be death,” Connor replied with a grin. “You remembered.”
“Con, I watched that film over and over when I was a kid. I could probably quote most of it in my sleep.”
“Mmm, sleep,” Connor murmured lazily into Hank’s chest.
“Yes please. I’m exhausted.”
They peeled themselves reluctantly from the sofa, collapsing into their bed in a heap of limbs and fabric. Hank found himself thankful for small victories - in this instance, it was that Connor was too tired to insist they change out of their costumes. Maybe in the morning they’d regret that decision when the pillows were covered in makeup and the costumes were crumpled, but right now, Hank couldn’t give a shit.
He drifted off to thoughts of them living in a big old house in the middle of nowhere, with a graveyard and hidden trap doors, and the thought didn’t seem all that bad. He thought about how he’d looked in that suit, and wondered if the next time he wore one would be at their wedding. Holding Connor close to his chest under the covers, he thought it was about time he got that ring.