“What’s this?” Wills asked when he came home from work one evening. On the console table by the front door was an invitation.
“Want to go to a Halloween Ball, babe?”
“You’re cordially invited…” He looked up from the invitation, interested. “Who’s this Charlemagne?”
“He was voted Le Roi this year, king of the escorts.”
“I take it it’s an honor to be invited?”
“Yeah.” The paper was parchment and the invite was stamped in gold leaf. I’d been Le Roi one year myself, and I knew how high the cost of those invitations could run. “But that’s not the reason I’d like us to go.” I wanted to show him off. “You do want to go? Hmm. I haven’t been to a Halloween party since college. Who will we go as?”
“You’ll do it?”
“Sure. As long as nothing comes up with work, it should be fun.”
“Great!”
“So, who will we go as?” he asked again.
“I was thinking of going as Zorro.”
“Awesome!”
But he didn’t tell me what costume he’d be wearing.
“I want to give it some thought, okay, babe?”
“Sure. Just don’t let it go too long. It will be a bitch getting anything decent then, and you’ll wind up wearing a generic costume.”
“Like an orange T-shirt that says, Halloween costume? I won’t let it go too long.”
“And promise you won’t wear those 501s and the tool belt! I’d be fighting ’em off all night long!”
He looked happy. “I won’t, I promise.” He ran his hand over my hair, then dropped his hands to my waist and pulled me against him. He was hard.
I remembered something his cousin Harry had said when we’d visited the family over the Memorial Day weekend. “Do you have a weakness for redheads, Wills?”
“I have a weakness for this redhead.” His eyes were on my lips. He ran his tongue over his lips and leaned toward me. My eyes closed, anticipating his kiss.
The smoke alarm went off.
“Shit!” We raced into the kitchen. “I hope I haven’t burned dinner!”
“I’ll take you out if you have.”
But it turned out I hadn’t.
**
After we’d gone to bed and made love, and just before I fell asleep, I wondered if taking Wills to this Halloween Ball was really a good idea. Charlemagne was a redhead. Suppose Wills….
I fell asleep before the worry could become full-blown.
**
Nothing came up at work, and as Wills had promised, he got home early. He let out a soft wolf whistle when he saw how I was dressed, all in black, from the flat-crowned hat on my head, to the knee-high boots on my feet. A sword hung at my waist, a cape hung from my shoulders, and a bullwhip hung from my belt. A silk mask covered my upper face.
“God, you look hot enough to eat! I don’t want to muss you now, but later, when we get home…”
“I’ll hold you to that. Now, go get yourself ready, handsome.”
“Give me twenty minutes, babe.”
Wills never fussed with himself. He showered, shaved, brushed his teeth and combed his hair, but never made a big thing of getting ready.
This time he ran over the time limit he’d set for himself, and I wondered what was taking him so long.
“Um… Theo,” he called from the bedroom. “I’m… uh… I’m not sure about this…”
“Come on out and let me see what you look like. If worse comes to worse, you can wear one of your suits and a pair of shades and go as a Secret Service man.”
He gave a choke of laughter. “I don’t think so.” The Lone Ranger walked out of our bedroom. “I’m sorry, babe. I thought this was a good idea when I picked out the costume, but I didn’t realize these pants would be so… so tight!”
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his body. Dressed in pale blue except for the black boots and black mask, he made the perfect foil for my Zorro.
The usual bland suits he wore had to be the reason no one had fucked him before me. Well, it was their loss, and no one was getting a chance at him now.
And Wills was right. His pants appeared to be spray-painted on. The holster belted around his hips framed the discreet bulge of his genitals.
“Are you…” I cleared my throat. “Are you wearing underwear?”
“If you could call it that.” He turned around so I could see his ass. “It’s a G-string.”
I licked my lips. “So I see. It’s a good thing I’ll be armed.” Even though he wasn’t wearing those lick me, suck me, fuck me jeans, I’d still be fighting off horny rent boys all night. I pulled out my sword, slashed the air with it, and went forward into a lunge. Then I straightened and put it back in its scabbard.
“And you… you don’t mind that I look like this?”
“I don’t mind, Wills.” Not much, at any rate. I tossed my cape over my shoulder, swaggered across the room to him, and pulled him into my arms, running my lips along his jaw. One of my clients had been an undersecretary at the Spanish Embassy, and I breathed Spanish love words into Wills’s ear.
“Theo, that’s Spanish!”
“I thought as Don Diego Vega that would be appropriate.”
“You thought....” He slid his arms around me and took my mouth in a voracious kiss.
He had a weakness for Spanish love words? I’d have to remember that.
**
The annual Halloween Ball was being held this year at the William Henry Harrison Hotel, down the road from the Madison Arms. The ballroom was smaller, but since it wasn’t a night off for all the boys, the crowd wouldn’t be as great.
When we walked in, the orchestra leader took one look at Wills and signaled his horn section. They began to play the “William Tell Overture.”
Wills touched the mask over his eyes. Apparently secure that his disguise was in place, he grinned and let out a breath. “This looks really nice, Theo.”
Orange and black draperies hung from the walls and pinned to them were cutouts of bats and black cats, ghosts and caldrons, witches and warlocks.
“Señor Zorro.”
I turned to find an angel standing there—tall, well-built, blue-eyed, blond. He must have been new to the area; I didn’t recognize him. His tunic was blindingly white and white wings rose above his head, the feathers tipped with gold. At his side hung a massive golden sword.
“I am Michael. His majesty would like to see you.” He gestured toward where Charlemagne stood, surrounded by his court. Michael’s eyes ran over Wills. “And your friend.”
Charlemagne was dressed as the Prince of Darkness, from the pointy little horns on his forehead to the red suede boots on his feet. Who would have thought someone with his hair coloring could carry off all that red?
Well, no time like the present to see if my lover was draw to Le Roi’s red hair. “Come on, babe. I’ll introduce you to him.”
I was concentrating on his reaction to Charlemagne and failed to notice the werewolf who staggered up to us and threw his arms around me.
“I love a man wearin’ a mashk.” He planted a slobbering kiss on my mouth. Although it was early in the evening, I could almost get drunk from the alcohol fumes on his breath.
The ballroom was noisy, but I had no trouble hearing the click of a pistol’s hammer being thumbed back.
“It might pay for you to remember that the bullets in the Lone Ranger’s gun are silver. Let him go, werewolf.” Wills was pointing the gun at the werewolf’s head.
“Uh…” The werewolf blinked owlishly, staring down the barrel of a Colt .45.
“Find someone else to kiss. Zorro is mine.”
I took the werewolf’s arms from around me and stepped away from him, wiping my mouth with my sleeve.
“Shorry. There’s no need to be shelfish. Jus’ wanted a li’l kish.”
“Someone get Jay out of here.” Charlemagne had approached without any of us realizing it. Well, maybe Wills had. He didn’t seem surprised.
“That’s Jay? Oh, my God, I’m gonna be sick!”
“Want me to shoot him, babe?”
“Please, not here. It was hard enough to persuade the management to let us hold the Halloween Ball here since the new people took over.” Charlemagne let his eyes drift over my lover. “So, you want to introduce us, Zorro?”
“This is the Lone Ranger, Mephistopheles. Ranger, this is…”
“… the Devil.” Wills holstered his pistol. “Your majesty.”
“I don’t recognize you.”
“He’s wearing a mask,” I growled.
“Even with the mask I’m certain I would recognize a body like that.”
A flush ran up Wills’s cheeks and disappeared under his mask.
“Would you care to spend some time at my table? I’m sure I can interest you in… walking the wild side. After all,” He glanced across the room to the entrance, where Michael stood, watching him with ancient wisdom in his eyes. “... if I can convert an archangel…”
“No, thanks. I’m here with Zorro.”
Charlemagne regarded him thoughtfully. “And you go home with the one you came with?”
“Right.”
I grinned below my mask. “If you’ll excuse us?” The orchestra was playing “Sway.” I took Wills’s hand and led him to the dance floor.
The fingers of one hand twined in his, the fingers of the other kneaded his hip and drew him closer, and we began to move across the floor.
**
Wills looked at his wristwatch.
“Is it time to go?” I asked. We’d agreed to leave a couple of minutes before midnight, just before everyone would unmask. He had work tomorrow.
“Yeah. Are you sure you don’t want to stay? You’re having a good time.”
“Because I’m here with you. Let’s get our goody bags and go say goodnight to Le Roi.”
We went back to our table and gathered our bags and my cape, which I’d removed when I’d found it made dancing difficult.
The Prince of Darkness was in earnest conversation with the Archangel Michael. He glanced around at us. “You’re not leaving already?”
“We have to go. The Lone Ranger has to be up bright and early in the morning catching bad guys.” I didn’t think it was that funny, but Wills bit back a snicker.
Charlemagne ran his eyes over Wills again, and I wanted to pull out my sword and run him through. “Are you sure I can’t interest you in a trick or treat, little boy?”
“I’ve got my treat, thanks.” Wills’s arm came around my waist. “It was nice meeting you, Your Majesty. Sir.” He nodded to the man dressed as the Archangel.
“Bright blessings upon you, William. And you also, Teodore.”
“Uh… thanks. Good night.” That was odd. But then Wills wound his fingers in mine, and I forgot about it.
The doorman hailed us a cab, and we got in and gave the driver our address. It seemed almost no time before the cab was pulling up in front of our house. We got out, and Wills paid him. There hadn’t been a single wrinkle or bulge in his costume—except for his package, and I wondered where he’d kept his wallet.
We climbed the stairs, and I let us into the apartment. “Did you have a good time, babe?” I yawned, tipped my hat back off my head so that it hung from its thong around my neck, and removed my mask. Wills did the same.
“Yeah. Like I’d said, I haven’t been to a Halloween party since college. This was a blast. What’s in the goody bags? Candy?”
“Not exactly.” I pulled out the items one by one. “Whoever is Le Roi has them put together. Condoms, flavored lube, cock rings, butt plugs…”
His lashes hid his eyes for a moment, and he blushed. Would he consider wearing one? Oh, not to work. He was too professional for that, but maybe around the apartment?
“… gift certificates for massages or to a hair stylist or restaurant or…”
“A tie clip?” Wills had taken a small jeweler’s box out of his bag and opened it to reveal a black cat arched and hissing above words marked out in diamond chips. 87th annual Halloween Ball.
“Charlemagne always was a show-off.”
“Wow. Eighty-seven years? Who’d have thought they’d be going on for so long?”
“Nothing stopped them, from what I was led to understand, not even the Depression or Second World War, although attendance was sparse during those years.”
“Makes sense.” He closed the box and put it back in his bag. “Are we gonna go again next year?”
“You’d want to go?”
“Yeah. I mean, I know it’s supposed to be for escorts, but it was fun, and if you don’t have a problem with it…”
“No problem. No, definitely no problem. It never failed to amaze and surprise—and yes, thrill me—he was looking to the future. I pulled him against me and rubbed my groin against his. “Trick or treat, little boy?”
