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“Hey, Cisco.”
Cisco yelped, nearly jumping out of his skin, and whipped around, flinging his wrench at Hartley. Hartley ducked, raising an eyebrow, and Cisco clutched his chest, then complained, “Would it kill you to make some damn noise, you prick?”
“Mm, no, but I like seeing you jump.”
Cisco scowled, then threatened, “I’m gonna put a bell on you one of these days.”
Hartley grinned, then answered, “I’ll just learn to move without jingling it.”
“Jackass. Why are you here?”
“There’s a Halloween party this weekend. I want you to go with me.”
“...Excuse me?”
Hartley rolled his eyes, then, signing along with his words exaggeratedly, he repeated, “I said, there’s a Halloween party-”
“I heard you the first time, asshole. I just don’t understand why you want me to go.”
“Aside from the fact that showing up to the party with a gorgeous man on my arm will score me all sorts of points and Barry is busy, you mean?”
“Don’t make me throw another wrench at you.”
Hartley laughed, then answered, “It’s the Rathaway Industries Halloween Gala.”
“...So?”
Hartley rolled his eyes, then said, “So, if I go alone, I’ll have to spend the whole night fending off various heiresses who don’t quite grasp that ‘Hey, I’m gay’ does not mean ‘I want to marry a woman and have a clandestine relationship with some dude on the side’.”
“So… What, you want me to be your fake boyfriend or something?”
“Fake boyfriend, real boyfriend, friend-with-benefits, I’m not picky. I just need you to come, wear a sexy couples’ costume with me, and look hot.”
Cisco choked slightly, then answered, “Right. Yeah. I can- I can do that. When is it?”
“Tomorrow. I’ve got our costumes already picked out and made.”
“You… What?”
Hartley gave a mocking little salute, then walked out, calling, “My apartment, noon, tomorrow!”
“Asshole!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At 12:06 the next day, Cisco knocked on Hartley’s apartment door, feeling distinctly annoyed by Hartley’s adamant refusal to give him any further details on the ‘sexy couples costume’ that he had apparently picked out for them. A moment later, Hartley opened the door and Cisco raised an eyebrow, asking, “So. Are you finally going to tell me what this stupid costume is?”
“You’re late. Your costume is in the bathroom. Go try it on so I can make any last minute adjustments.”
Cisco scowled at Hartley, then stated, “I hate you so much. I hope you know that.”
“Mhm. Go.”
Cisco rolled his eyes, but went into the bathroom and picked up the stack of fabric on the counter, then frowned and asked, “Hey, Hartley?”
“Mhm?”
“...Why the fuck is it all leather?”
“I told you it was a sexy costume, didn’t I?”
Cisco closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath, then undressed and started getting dressed, cussing Hartley out mentally. And then cussing him out verbally when he realized what the costume was.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Hartley?”
Hartley glanced up from where he was styling his hair when Cisco slammed the bathroom door open, then purred, “Oh, don’t you look delicious.”
“Black Canary? Really? Do you think you’re funny?”
“Extremely. C’mere.”
He beckoned Cisco over and Cisco walked over, glowering at Hartley and stating, “Laurel is going to kill me when she finds out.”
Hartley snorted, then adjusted Cisco’s leather half-jacket and answered, “No, she won’t. Who do you think I got the reference photos from? Tommy was kind enough to put us in contact. She wants photos, by the way.”
“Have I mentioned that you’re an asshole?”
“Mm, a few times. Damn, those pants fit you perfectly.”
“They look like you painted them onto me.”
“As I said, they fit you perfectly. Really accentuate that gorgeous ass. I’m glad the measurements I borrowed from your workshop were accurate.”
“...Hartley. I am going to kick your ass.”
Hartley hummed, then answered, “If it makes you feel better, you’re not going to be the only one wearing tight black leather.”
“...Excuse me?”
Hartley swanned off into the bathroom and Cisco closed his eyes, then stated, “You know, you can just tell me you have a leather fetish, you jerk.”
He heard a half-laugh, half-choke noise from the bathroom, then Hartley called, “You know I can hear you, right?”
“Wow, really? It’s almost like you’re a meta with super-hearing!”
A moment later, Hartley stepped out of the bathroom and Cisco’s brain blue-screened.
“So apparently I have a leather fetish too.”
The noise Hartley made was halfway between a wheeze and a snort and Cisco blushed as he realized that apparently the sight of Hartley Rathaway in an alarmingly tight black leather catsuit was enough to break his brain-to-mouth filter. Hartley coughed a few times, then, face bright red, answered, “Good to know.”
Cisco closed his eyes, praying for death to take him right then and there before he humiliated himself further, then asked, “So, how exactly is this a couples costume? Aside from the obvious of ‘both wearing black leather’?”
Then he opened his eyes in time to see Hartley clipping a pair of black cat ears into his hair. Cisco closed his eyes again, taking another deep breath, and asked, “Hartley. Are you dressed as Catwoman?”
“Mhm.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m the cat that got the canary, of course!”
Cisco let out a sigh from the deepest depths of his soul, then gritted out, “Are you telling me that our entire costume is based on a fucking pun?”
He opened his eyes to find Hartley looked distinctly smug and Hartley answered cheerily, “Duh!”
“Why?”
Hartley’s smug look somehow got even more self-satisfied as he answered, “For the pun of it, obviously.”
Cisco groaned at the pun, then complained, “You’re such a fucking dick.”
Hartley wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Cisco finally cracked, the absurdity of it all hitting him all at once as he started cackling. He laughed until his stomach hurt, then dropped onto the couch and asked, “What time is the party?”
“Not until 7, I just needed to make sure your costume fit right and that I had enough time to make any last minute adjustments.”
Cisco huffed, then answered, “So we have about 7 hours?”
“Yep. You can change, if you want.”
“Y’know, technically, the cat hasn’t actually gotten the canary yet.”
Hartley raised an eyebrow at the non sequitur, then asked, “Oh?”
“Mm.”
Hartley blinked, then his eyes went wide and his blush made a reappearance, pupils expanding as he answered, “Oh. Oh. And how does the canary feel about the cat getting him?”
“Like the cat needs to- Okay, I’m losing track of this metaphor. Just get over here and help me out of this suit. We have 7 hours before the party and I fully intend to make us fashionably late.”
“Bossy, bossy.”
Despite his words, Hartley wasted no time in taking Cisco back out of the Black Canary costume.
(They showed up at the Rathaway Industries Halloween Gala 20 minutes late.)