Work Text:
Pumpkin Spice
by Alee
Autumn, and the slow, heavy fall of russet leaves. There was a thick covering on the ground, crunching crisply in bursts of gold and ruby, fading to brown. For once the ground was dry, and the smell was of earth and sky rather than dank, damp soil.
Pumpkins in the storefronts beckoned, some untouched, others grinning and frowning their candlelit beacons into the dusk. Seeds roasted on grills and in ovens, and the nutmeg and cinnamon teased at his nostrils. Layered over it all, the scent of fresh baked pie.
The bags were heavy, laden with fruits and chocolates, and the tiny toy surprises he hadn't been able to resist. He paused at the doorway, fumbling for his keys and smiling as the skeleton lights blinked and winked in a psychedelic array. Only Blair would know where to find such things, and only Blair could convince him to hang them on the door to the loft.
His smile dimmed as the door swung open, the silence within expected but still unwelcome. Rustling wrappers signaled the rich, thick scent of candy flowing into the large bowl by the door. Three paces to the left, and the bowl was in place, ready for any miniscule demons or witches that might make their way to his door.
The coffee warmed his hands, his mouth, his senses as the rich aroma seeped into his pores. But not his heart. That would have to wait, he suspected, for another year. Or more.
But one day...
One day the doorbell would ring, and Blair would be home.
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