Apollo straightened his collar and smoothed his shirtfront. He was more than a little nervous—in fact, he had tension knots from hell in his lower abdominal area—but he was still determined to go through with this. He braced himself and walked through the silent door.

A wave of sound and color embraced him. He looked around at the crowded room, nearly overwhelmed by the sight. There were men everywhere—dancing, drinking, talking, and—ahem. Just don't look, advised his Kobolian side, despite the fact that his hormones were definitely interested in what was going on in those corners.

Apollo spotted someone waving at him and pushed through the gyrating bodies of the dancers to reach Tomin, the one who'd invited him here tonight.

"Captain!" Tomin called, as soon as he was near enough to hear. "Glad you could make it—I was beginning to think you weren't going to be here."

"No such luck." Apollo smiled and found himself a seat on a storage crate. He glanced around the room again, wondering why no one had ever caught these guys before. They had converted a half-filled storage room into an impromptu dance club, complete with refreshments and music mixer.

"It's about time you got out here. Sometimes we'd wonder why you never showed at our little get-togethers." Tomin smiled and sipped his drink.

"Um... for one thing, I never knew." Apollo nearly lost his jaw when he saw a particularly juicy morsel stroll by, clad in black leather pants and not much else. Well, I certainly don't doubt that reaction... I must have finally figured out what I want.

"And the other thing?" Tomin nudged him when he didn't respond.

"Huh?... oh." Apollo jerked his attention off that spectacular ass and back to Tomin. "Yeah. The other thing—I just never really thought of doing this, you know?"

"I see," Tomin nodded. He waved at someone across the room and mimed drinking. A mug appeaared as if by magic and began a hand-to-hand trek across the room, to eventually land in front of Apollo.

"Thanks." He raised the mug to his lips and drank. Warm ale. Oh, joy. Under cover of watching the mug's progress across the room, he'd gotten a pretty good look at who was here—not as many people as he'd first thought, but still enough to fill the medium sized storeroom beyond capacity. The dutiful Captain in him suggested that having this many people crowded in here together was a fire hazard. The wild and daring side of his nature, long buried but at last released, suggested the sense of duty leave on a long hike.

"What's on your mind?" Tomin broke into his internal debate while the daring was on top. Pouting and reluctant, the Captain went off to sulk.

"Ah, not much," Apollo replied. He took another sip of ale, which slid down his dry throat like the finest nectar. "Just wondering why I never knew about this place."

"I suppose that's good, in a way—" Tomin sipped at his own drink and smiled. "If the upper officers ever found out about this, we'd be in deep shit."

"You have a point there."

The music switched from a slow mellow piece to a driving rocker. Apollo saw the challenge in Tomin's eyes and answered it with a raised eyebrow and a grin. They stood together and pushed their way into the midst of the dancers.

The pounding beat took over Apollo's body and he began to move with it. He lost himself to the feel of the music, the play of muscle on bone—and the feel of Tomin, moving with him in a nearly magical way. One tune blended into another, until they were both panting for breath. Still of one accord, they made their way out of the dancers again and collapsed against the wall.

"Been way too frackin' long since I danced," Apollo panted. Tomin draped an arm across his shoulders and squeezed.

"You need to get out more often."

"I'm beginning to realize that." Apollo leaned against Tomin, pleased that he was already recovering his breath.

"Apollo? Is that you?"

A familiar voice sounded, and he jerked his head up to stare, wide-eyed, at the last person he'd expected to see here.

"Starbuck?" He blinked repeatedly, then grinned and scrambled to his feet. "Of course it's me! Who else would it be, wearing my clothes?"

Starbuck darted an unfriendly glance at Tomin, so quickly Apollo thought he must have imagined it. "Well, face it, Apollo—it's been a long time since I've seen you in civvies." Starbuck leveled a significant look at Apollo's garments, and then a grin spread across his face.

"Oh- um, er...." Apollo felt his face warm, and wished the lights were less bright. "You have a point there." He ran his hands absently down his forest green silk shirt.

"It's about time you lightened up and had some fun, although I never would have expected to see you here." Another grin lit his face with a near-incandescent glow.

"Yeah, well—I could say the same." Apollo glanced down at Tomin, to find him staring with distinct hostility at Starbuck. Uh-oh.

"But I'm here at the end of every secton!" Starbuck protested, with wide and innocent blue eyes.

"So this is where you go and don't tell me about." Apollo grinned. "Don't know why—you know I like to dance."

"Oh really? Could have fooled me, it's been what, three yahrens? Four?" Starbuck's grin echoed Apollo's.

Tomin rose abruptly. The look he pinned on Starbuck would have frozen a Cylon. "C'mon, Apollo, let's dance some more." He took Apollo's arm and tried to pull him away.

A slow song began to play. Starbuck raised a hand to stop Tomin- not that he was going anywhere, with Apollo still rooted to the floor in front of Starbuck. "Excuse me, but I think this dance is mine."

Apollo removed his arm from Tomin's grasp. "Sorry," he said, with a shrug and a quick smile. Then Starbuck swept him onto the dance floor and the rest of the world became irrelevant.

"Now let's get something straight," Starbuck said, turning the full force of his intense blue eyes on Apollo. "You're here for a good time—that's great. That's wonderful. In fact, I think it's way overdue. But if anyone's going to be hitting on you, it's me."

Apollo's mouth dropped open in surprise. "I—uh, I—" He swallowed, took a proper breath instead of a shocked gasp. "I'm fine with that." He couldn't have stopped the vast grin which engulfed his features if he'd tried. He could scarcely believe his luck—he'd never even suspected Starbuck's tastes ran to men, and this was an entirely welcome development. And such timing, too—it had been a scant few hours since he'd decided to give in to his desire for male company and laid the last of his excuses to rest.

Where dancing with Tomin had been nearly magic, dancing with Starbuck was pure heaven. Apollo floated on a cloud, nestled within his best friend's arms, in a world which contained himself, Starbuck, and the music. He couldn't peel his eyes off Starbuck's face to save his life. If Cylons had poured into the room, blasting all in sight, Apollo would never have noticed.

Song followed song, blurring one into the next without pause. Apollo couldn't get enough of the man in his arms—looking at him, smiling at him, holding him, discovering that he rather liked dancing dirty with him... It was like a secret fantasy come true. Why had he taken so long to accept the fact that men turned him on in a most spectacular fashion? Why had he taken so long to admit to himself that the sight of his best friend lit an unquenchable fire of lust in him? Damn. What a lot of time he'd wasted, simply because he was a coward when it came to doing something different.

"Pol," Starbuck murmured in his ear.

"Hmm?"

"I don't know about you, but I'd like to clear out of here." He kissed Apollo's neck, which caused a shivery-pleasant feeling to race along both their nervous systems.

Apollo slid a hand down for a handful of asscheek. I knew it would fit my hand perfectly... "I would too."

"Let's go, then." Starbuck pulled away enough to walk, but kept an arm around Apollo's waist. Apollo went along with him in a hormonally induced haze.

"My place," he managed to whisper through the lust and nerves when they emerged from the storeroom. His quarters were larger and more comfortable, since he was a higher ranked officer after all.

"My thought exactly." Starbuck glanced about the corridor, then pulled Apollo close and kissed him.

Fire exploded through Apollo's entire being, pinwheels of sensation burning fiery trails throughout his body. He leaned into the kiss hungrily, for once in his life throwing caution to the wind.

A noise made them break apart. They both looked wildly for the source of the sound, but there was nothing. With a laugh, Starbuck gestured towards the turbolift. "Shall we?"

"Certainly," Apollo replied. He could feel a grin etched indelibly into his face. That kiss had been hot. So hot, in fact, that his lips were still sizzling.

Apollo experienced a new kind of torture as they moved through the Galactica together—that of not touching Starbuck, even though he was right there. Every single one of his nerves stood up and took notice—along with certain other parts of himself. He hoped they didn't encounter anyone, since his civilian clothing left very little to the imagination.

At last they reached the sanctuary of Apollo's quarters. No sooner did the door close behind them than Apollo was kissing Starbuck- or maybe it was the other way around, maybe Starbuck was kissing Apollo. Whatever, either way it was wonderful—lips teasing at each other, probing tongues tasting and testing, hands... ah yes, the hands, wandering everywhere. Clothing began to fly, landing in random locations about the room—a shirt here, a pair of trousers draped over the end table, a boot in the corner—and skin. Bare skin, in fact. Bare skin rubbing against more bare skin, hot bodies creating even more heat where they touched.

Apollo tore his mouth away from Starbuck's for a moment. "Bed," he gasped. "Now!"

"Yes, bed now," Starbuck was gasping as well. They raced on wobbly legs to the bedroom, jostling each other in their haste to reach the bed. "Frack!" Starbuck paused in the act of launching for the bed, then spun around. "Lube."

Apollo feasted his eyes on the sight of the nude Starbuck racing for the lube and spread himself across the bed, beyond all rational thought. Starbuck returned with an innocuous little tube and pounced on Apollo.

"AH!!" A sharp cry emerged from Apollo as Starbuck's mouth did somethng absolutely amazing to him. "Oh lords Starbuck don't ever stop that it feels so good I think I love you ahhhh!!!"

Starbuck's head popped up. "Just think? Well, we'll see about that..." And he proceeded to drive Apollo over the edge of sanity and into the realm of pure animal passion—not just once, either.

A long time later, in the quiet darkness, Apollo discovered enough strength to raise a hand and stroke Starbuck's hair. "Okay, so I don't just think I love you anymore," he whispered.

"Good." The sleepy, satiated whisper was the last thing Apollo heard, before he passed into blissful oblivion.

 

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