Are you coming? 86th & Park. You're on the list.
On my way.
Kip replied to the text message.
He shut his laptop, made a side glance at the pile of work on his desk then gathered his things. It could wait. He'd promised to make an appearance at Tyler's first party of the year. Neither Kip's nor Tyler's schedule had allowed them to have much quality time together. Outside of a few quick romps before bed or heading out the door to work, they had been like strangers. Kip hailed a cab.
As the cab merged into traffic, Kip's mind drifted back to work. He reviewed a mental list of what he needed to accomplish in two short weeks before the merger and suddenly felt the need to go back to the office and plow through those tasks, but showing moral support for Tyler was where he should be. He made up his mind to only poke his head in for a few hours and then get an early start in the morning.
The cab stopped at 86th and Park.
"A little underdressed don't you think?" the cab driver said as Kip handed him the fare.
"Huh?" Kip followed the cab drivers eyes to the procession of people on the sidewalk. A construction worker and a sailor disappeared, arm in arm, through the doorway. Six men dressed as The Village People loitered to one side, smoking and talking among themselves. All others were a parade of costumes, some flashy, some subdued. There were even a few masked horror characters.
"Fuck!" Kip pounded his fist into the back of the driver's seat. Among all the details he had to keep track of on a daily basis, he'd let this one slip his mind. He could see his costume hanging on the back of the bedroom door. It was strategically placed there by Tyler so that he wouldn't forget. By the time he made it home to change and headed back, the party might still be raging on, but Tyler would be beyond pissed.
"Great," he muttered as he exited the cab. He threw his blazer over his shoulder then made his way to the entrance.
Even though the night was unseasonably warm, it wasn't warm enough for the man in a cowboy costume. He wore nothing but a pair of brown steel tipped boots, complete with spurs, a brown pair of leather chaps, a matching vest and a white cowboy hat. His smooth bare ass was framed nicely in the opening of the chaps. Kip was just about to get a look at the front when a man gilded in gold body paint waltzed in front of him. From head to toe the man glittered. His privates were tucked behind a gold covering. It looked like a flimsy jock strap. Kip couldn't help but stare. The man filled it generously. The golden man smiled broadly when a queen donned in a horribly stringy brunette wig, black strapless evening dress and clear heels linked arms with him.
"Who are you?" a remarkably believable Sylvester Stallone called out as they passed. She turned gracefully and cited, "You like me. You really like me," then gave her gilded man a squeeze.
The crowd roared with laughter.
"Great costume," someone exclaimed. Kip chuckled. He gave the "Oscar" one last look and noticed a gathering of white fabric peeking out the side of the codpiece.
"Figures."
Kip crossed the threshold into the foyer of the banquet hall.
A muffled three hundred and sixty beat per minute song thundered inside the room where Tyler had no doubt worked his magic. Couples and singles filtered passed Kip as he approached the double doors leading into the party. Spiderman remarked in passing, "Great costume."
Kip bristled at the snide remark and turned to confront the ill mannered super hero. Spiderman looked over his shoulder and stopped to glare at Kip. When Spiderman lifted the fitted mask to reveal himself, Kip saw a very appreciative expression on the man's face.
"So what are you supposed to be, hunk?" Spiderman said. "Executive? Professor?"
"I'm just -"
Spiderman looked Kip up and down.
"No. A lawyer."
Kip chuckled uncomfortably as his own spidey senses began to tingle. "Yeah," Kip said and resisted whipping out his actual business card.
"My lucky day. It's been a long day of fighting crime, you know? Wanna blow this off and get a drink?"
Twelve years ago the temptation would have eaten Kip alive, burning through the soles of his shoes, but thankfully the years had matured him and Tyler solidified him. Kip graciously turned Spiderman down.
"Shame. I'd really enjoy reviewing your briefs," Spiderman said with feigned disappointment.
Kip never tired of that one and laughed at the pun. "You have a good night."
"You too, sugar." Spiderman patted Kip on the shoulder then resumed his anonymity by securing his mask. Spiderman left a parting gift, the spectacle of his buttocks. They moved in a seductive motion inside the confines of the spandex leggings. Kip thought about ripping open those leggings and revealing what was certain to be two powerfully firm ass cheeks and the perfect licking target nestled between.
"Escape his web?"
Kip turned to see Tyler smiling at him.
"I guess he had to make one last stab at it. The fucker's been at it all night," Tyler added.
Kip laughed off the insinuation that he was the least bit tempted. He gave Tyler a reassuring squeeze.
For Kip, Tyler was the perfect physical specimen. When they embraced, their bodies met up at every point, perfectly. They were the same height and neither needed to dedicate much time to the gym to maintain their muscle definition. In their circle of playmates they were referred to as the twins. If it weren't for Tyler's Hispanic ancestry opposite Kip's clearly Anglo, taken a dark turn somewhere, appearance, they very well could have been born from the same egg. But the nickname really applied to their bodies, two lean, mean fucking machines.
Kip thought of their times with their playmates. Each memory turned him on. He savored Tyler's body next to his. The savoring was cut short. Tyler pulled away.
"And you obviously forgot." Tyler held Kip at arm's length and looked him up and down. "Though, this is my favorite suit. Really accentuates your shoulders." Tyler brushed something from Kip's lapel.
"I'm a lawyer for Halloween," Kip said with a pleading look on his face.
Tyler raised an eyebrow. A feat Kip never seemed to be able to imitate. He always wound up looking like a scowling hag. Tyler didn't bite. Kip's instinct was to launch into a defensive diatribe but he knew it was no use. "Okay. Yes. I forgot," Kip confessed.
Tyler's face softened.