Supple leather slid over well-defined muscles in a disturbingly sensual manner. Starbuck swallowed, hard. He'd heard a song, once- the Leather Pants of Evil. It mentioned the pants that, when the wearer walked into the room, immediately commanded the eyes and attentions of all present... well, those pants had nothing on these. True, the Leather Pants of Evil kicked some serious ass in a serio-comic struggle between Good and Evil, but these leather pants were kicking some serious ass on Starbuck's hormones. He swallowed hard again, watching the pants stalk past once again as their wearer prowled the room with his current dance partner.

Supple black leather traced the elegant lines of muscular thighs, clinging enticingly to shapely calves before disappearing into boots. Starbuck's eyes traced upwards, seeking a glimpse of wonders hinted at but never directly observed, concealed by the drifting fall of cloak and tunic. Crowning the whole costume was a hood and mask, obscuring the features of the dancer.

Starbuck sighed, readjusting his own mask. Apollo had coerced him into attending this thing, this ridiculous masquerade ball for All Hallow's Eve, and hadn't even had the courtesy yet to make an appearance. Although something about the way those pants clung to the unknown dancer... nah. Starbuck twisted the stem of his ambrosa glass between idle fingers and watched as the black dancer relinquished his partner and tried to leave the floor, only to be snagged by someone else before he'd gone two steps. Leather flexed and rippled. Starbuck drooled.

He traced an idle finger over his mask again. It was an elaborate affair, made of sequins and feathers, all gold and white and fancy. It tickled his nose. But he had to admit, it looked striking with the old-ivory colored velvet costume he wore. Too bad Apollo wasn't there to appreciate the sight of Stabuck all done up as the Prince of the Sun, one of his favorite figures from legend. Not that he'd appreciate the sight anyway, Starbuck thought sardonically, and sipped his ambrosa. He noticed that the glass was empty and rose, working his way through the edges of the crowded dance hall towards the refreshment tables.

Before he got even halfway there, a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned, and blinked with surprise when he saw the wearer of the fascinating pants. He smiled. "Hello."

Without a word, the man swung him out onto the dance floor. Starbuck swayed willingly into his arms, ivory and deepest black moving together to trace a complicated pattern across the floor. He peered into the shadows of the other man's hood, unable to discern any real details, other than the man's mask was similar to his own. Black feathers and sequins framed eyes shadowed by the deep hood. A gauzy veil covered the rest of the face, showing only shadow where features should have been. Starbuck finally realized who the mystery man had dressed as: the Shadowdancer, one of the many faces of Death Incarnate. A faint shiver rippled through him, then he laughed at himself. What a thought, the Prince of the Sun dancing with Death. Sun and Shadow, light and dark... Starbuck and...

"Apollo?"

The Shadowdancer shook his head, freeing one hand for a moment to lay a gloved finger across Starbuck's lips. But he was sure, now- this had to be Apollo. The way he moved, the way he felt in Starbuck's arms... it had to be.

The dance ended with a dramatic flare of music. Sun-prince and Shadowdancer halted for a moment, poised on the dance floor in a moment of silence. Every light in the room seemed aimed directly at the pair, and every eye was upon them. After a pause, the musicians began playing "Prince of Darkness," a traditional ballad which told of Death in his guise as a lover. A hint of a smile beneath the veil was answered by Starbuck's grin. The two moved gracefully across the floor, flowing through the movements of the dance with a grace that transcended that of mere mortals, their bodies telling the story of Death's yearning to know love.

Starbuck was lost in the moment, swept away by the beat of the music, the play of muscle on bone, the feel of the Shadow guiding him across the floor... and this, all in full view of everyone. The ancient story played out: how Death courted the shining mortal, offering eternal life in exchange for love... Death flirted with the mortal, drawing him close, while the mortal retreated teasingly.

The music swept them along, Sun and Shadow holding everyone spellbound, then reached the stirring finale. The dancers froze, lost in the timeless moment of the mortal's surrender to Death with a kiss, and the lights went out.

Starbuck yielded instantly to the pressure on his hand, pulling him rapidly off the dance floor. By the time the lights were restored, the two had vanished from the ballroom. Still silent, the Shadowdancer led his Sun Prince rapidly through the levels of the Rising Star until they reached a private room. They ducked into the door together. As soon as the door closed safely behind them, Starbuck broke into breathless laughter.

"Apollo... did you see their faces?"

The Shadowdancer swept off hood, mask, and veil, revealing the grinning face of his lover. "Saw yours, Bucko," he chuckled. "I had you fooled too, didn't I?"

"Nah," Starbuck hedged. He pulled his own mask off, rubbing his face with relief.

Apollo pulled him close for a passionate kiss. "Liar," he murmured fondly. Starbuck chuckled but didn't deny the accusation, choosing instead to get his hands on those Leather Pants of Evil.

"Oooh, they are suede," he breathed. His fingers explored the texture of the leather, which clung invitingly to Apollo's ass and thighs, soft and warm and faintly nubby with the fuzzy stuff characteristic of suede. His fingertips tingled.

"And you..." Apollo breathed, nuzzling even closer into Starbuck's neck. "You're in velvet. Awfully tempting, you know- how do you expect me to resist this?" and his hand ran with the grain of the velvet, up one thigh, across the growing bulge, and down the other.

"I don't," Starbuck replied, pressing his hips forward against Apollo before kneeling, both hands on that spectacular leather-clad ass. He buried his face in Apollo's crotch, nuzzling and kissing. "Calculated... to be... irresistable."

"Hmmm..." Apollo ran his fingers through the golden hair of his lover, then broke away and moved to the bed. "Come here, you," he said, holding out his hands. Starbuck took them and found himself pulled up onto the bed, into Apollo's arms.

And then they had hot, mad, passionate sex for centares.

 

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