"Hey, what's your favorite trick-or-treat candy?"

Luke looked over at me, confusion written between his knitted brows. "Is there any type of candy that isn't trick-or-treat candy?"

"I don't know," I said, waving my hand through the crisp air before shoving it back in my pocket. "Any type of candy."

He considered that for a while, kicking at the fiery leaves that covered the park sidewalk. The cold weather had forced us into thick coats and gloves, the sky a molted mix of blues and grays. Luke's brown hair was mussed and covered in leaves, no doubt from running into low-hanging tree branches. Mine, however, was not; I was short and wearing a hood.

"Reese's," he finally decided. "Definitely Reese's."

"Mm." I gave a little jump, enjoying the crunch of the dried leaves under my boots.

"They're just so peanut-buttery," Luke said, a hint of longing in his voice. "And chocolaty. And...I just love 'em."

"Well, I think I have some left over from Halloween," I told him, crossing the street and tamping down the urge to buy something at the coffee shop as delicious smells wafted through the air. "You can have those."

Luke frowned. "You didn't give them to Ella? She's not allergic to peanuts."

I snorted. "No, but I'm spiteful. The day I give my hard earned candy to my sister is the day I die."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Well, thanks, man."

"Anytime bro." I pulled out my watch and cursed. "Speaking of which, we're kinda late for dinner."

Luke paled. "By how much?"

"Oh, not much..." I started walking faster. "Just like, an hour."

"Dude!" Luke grabbed my wrist and started running, dragging me along the sidewalk so fast, I could barely keep up. "Your mom liked me!"

"Well maybe my watch is fast, I don't know!" I protested, most of my concentration spent on not falling flat on my face. "I kinda lost track of time--Luke, slow down!"

He ignored my request, making a hairpin turn and speeding into my cul de sac. He ran across the circle, up the driveway to my house, took the stairs two at a time and knocked on the door.

I, on the other hand, had managed to free myself from Luke's death grip and was now doubled over, struggling to get air to important places.

"Dude," I wheezed. "I think you've killed me."

"I saved you," he corrected. "Any later and Mrs. Jones would have skinned us alive."

"Which I'm still considering."

I looked up to my mother standing in the open doorway, arms crossed and glaring at me in a way that spelled a thousand colorful deaths.

"Mom, I'm sorry, I lost track of time." I straightened and tried for an innocent face. "Please don't murder me."

My mother glanced over at Luke, who was looking particularly awkward, and sighed. "Fine. But you're making cranberry sauce."

"Great!" I said, forcing some cheerfulness into my voice as we walked inside. "I love cranberries."

"You hate cranberries," Luke said.

"No need to remind me." I gestured to the set of stairs sitting on our right. "All the candy's in my room. Help yourself."

"Thanks, man. Anything you want?"

"Nah, I'm good." I watched him go up the stairs, and changed my mind. "On second thought, bring me a Hershey's bar!"

After hearing muffled confirmation, I headed into the kitchen.

The smells of mashed potatoes, and turkey hit me like a steam train. Dishes were piled in the sink, and ingredients covered every available space. I could see multiple things my mom could've cleared away, but unlike my dad, she wasn't a neat cook.

"Any word from Luke's mom?" she asked as I went over to wash my hands. Her reddish brown hair was falling out of its bun, and she motioned towards a black hair tie on the dining room table. I reached over and tossed it to her.

"Nothing," I answered as I turned on the tap, letting the freezing water wash away the soap and dirt. "He seemed sure she'd call if something came up."

My mother nodded and let it drop.

After setting the cranberry sauce to simmer and stealing a couple chunks of sugar from the package, I was starting to worry about how long Luke had been up there. My candy was well hidden, sure, but Luke and I had been best friends for years. He knew all my hiding places.

Just when I was about to go up and check on him, Luke padded down the stairs and into the kitchen, holding two peanut butter cups and a chocolate bar. He tossed me the bar and unwrapped one of his Reese's.

"Sorry," he said between bites, standing in the doorway so he wouldn't accidentally kill me. "Your stash took a while to find."

I studied his face carefully and saw the subtlest twitch of his eyebrow. He was lying.

"So, Aaron has a stash, does he?" My mother raised her eyebrows as she stirred a pot of gravy.

Luke shot me a look that said, my bad.

"Well, you can't have a stash if there's no candy left! Come, Lucius," I took his arm and dragged him back towards the stairs as he quickly rewrapped the peanut butter cup. "Let's see what else I have up there."

Luke was silent on the way up the stairs, and judging from his slumped posture, he knew exactly what we were going to talk about.

I led him down the hall and into my room, throwing myself onto the bed. The walls were covered in comic postures, movie tickets, photographs and other 2D knicknacks. My book shelf was lined side-to-side with novels, some of them so old and torn the covers weren't even there anymore. Clothes littered the floor, and candy wrappers had taken over most of my nightstand.

"Just as messy as it was yesterday," Luke noted, nudging a shirt away from him with his foot.

"The cleaning elves couldn't make it today," I said casually. "Something about going on strike."

"For the last fifteen years?" Luke raised his eyebrows. "You might wanna consider better working conditions."

"Well in any case, my elf cleaning business is not what we're here to talk about." I sat up and leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees and my chin in my hands. "What'd your mom say?"

Luke sighed and shrugged his broad shoulders. "Not much. Just that she was 'snowed in'." He put the words in finger quotes. "I checked the weather over there. It's supposed to be in the sixties. Snow doesn't form in the sixties."

"Indeed, it does not," I agreed. "Anything else?"

"Tony says hello," Luke said bitterly. "And that she'll be home as soon as her flight is rescheduled."

"Couldn't she drive?"

"She doesn't want to waste the ticket."

We sat in silence for a moment.

"You know my mom would be happy to let you stay," I reminded him. "I would too. I could use some help with the dishes."

He tapped finger nervously against his thigh. "You're sure it's no trouble?"

"Absolutely." I jumped up and hooked his arm with mine, dragging him out of my room with my deep adventure voice. "Come, Lucian. Great danger awaits!"

"You know, some day you're going to run out of those nicknames," Luke said with a hint of a smile.

"That'll never happen, Lukey ma' boy. It'll never happen."

***

Luke's mom died in a car crash later that year. The roads were icy, and she lost control. That was all Luke was willing to tell me.

We officially adopted him after New Year's, but Luke had been family for so long, it didn't really feel any different. We acted the same, we talked the same... but in a weird way, it also felt better.

He moved into my older brother's room across the hall and found a loose floorboard, where we discovered several items of mine that had gone "missing" before my older brother had left for college. When Valentine's day rolled around, he helped me ask out my crush and deal with the following rejection. We set off fireworks together, had a pinching reign of terror on Saint Patrick's Day, and tried to get away with wearing white after Labor Day. (We failed).

And on Thanksgiving, I finally had someone to help me do the dishes.

Like I said, our brotherly bond was nothing new. Except now, he had a title to go with the feeling.

Luke Bazala-Jones. Has a nice ring to it, huh?

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Okay, I know it's not great. But I really like Aaron and Luke, so I thought I'd post it, and I just liked the dialogue for s reason? I don't really know