Disclaimer: The characters from Mag7 belong to MGM, Mirisch, and Trilogy.
Summary: Buck gets invited to a mysterious New Year's Eve party.
Author's notes: First, this story is just a sorry excuse for sex. <g> I just think Buck doesn't get enough. I mean, Ezra gets to make out with six other guys, it's not fair. Lol. A huge thank you to Sherri who made the ultimate sacrifice and beta'ed this for me. :-P
Definition of Fantasia (Noun from the Latin Phantasia) - 1. The creative imagination; unrestrained fancy. 2. Something, such as an invention, that is a creation of the fancy. 3. A capricious or fantastic idea; a conceit. 4. Fiction characterized by highly fanciful or supernatural elements. 5. An imagined event or sequence of mental images, such as a daydream, usually fulfilling a wish or psychological need. 6. An unrealistic or improbable supposition.
You are cordially invited to attend a private party at The Fantasia Club, Monday, December 31, 2001 at 10:00 p.m. Formal wear is required. Once inside, the mask is not to be removed. Please show this invitation at the door to be allowed entrance.'
Buck stared ruefully at his reflection in the mirror, wondering if he wasn't finally going out of his mind. It was a little past 9:00 p.m. and he was ready to leave for the party. He had donned his classic tuxedo, with his favorite gold cufflinks, dark blue studs on his white wing collar shirt to match his silk vest. Black, shining shoes were the finishing touch to the attire.
For the first time in years he was without a date for the New Year's celebrations and the other men all had something planned for the night. Vin and JD were staying at Nettie's, Nathan had gone to see Rain, Josiah tagging along to visit some old friends living in the same area, Chris was going to spent the evening with his new girlfriend, and Ezra was in New Orleans wrapping up a case with the local ATF and would only return in two days time.
Buck had received a mysterious package containing the invitation and an exotic looking mask three days earlier and had been unable to resist the obvious challenge behind it.
The Fantasia Club was the hottest thing in Denver at the moment, having been in business for less than three months. A lot of wild rumors had been circulating around it, but what was fantasy and what was reality no one could tell. All that Buck knew for certain was that it was a very expensive club, with very strict rules regarding its clientele. It made his ex-cop senses go all tingly in warning.
He looked at the mask lying on his bed; it represented a jester. It measured about 10'' high and 15'' wide and was made from green and blue glitter, shimmering gold trim, yellow and red petals, and was backed with emerald green velvet. Beautiful artwork and craftsmanship.
Knowing there was no real reason to postpone, he donned his winter coat, grabbed his truck keys and walked out the door.
It was a little past the appointed hour when he arrived at the club. He allowed a valet to drive his truck to the parking and strolled briskly over to the heavy wooden door, stopping only when he reached the doorman.
"Good evening, sir." The man greeted him with a slight bow. "Your invitation, please?" After checking the invitation, the doorman nodded. "I hope you enjoy the evening, Mr. Wilmington."
Buck nodded his thanks and walked inside, finding himself in a hall, a large counter to his left. The man there smiled as he saw him.
"Good evening, sir. Your invitation?" Refraining from muttering 'deja vu', Buck handed it to him. "Ah, yes! Mr. Wilmington. I'm afraid your room is not quite ready yet, but if you'd be kind enough to wait in the main salon, I will fetch you as soon as possible."
"Room?" Buck echoed with a frown, while shrugging out of his coat and handing it over to the man.
"Quite. As your invitation states you are to attend a private party, taking place in one of our special rooms. Now, if you will follow me, and please, the mask..." he gestured towards the jester mask Buck was still holding in his hand.
Buck donned the mask and followed the man down a corridor, hearing the sound of music and voices increase as they approached the salon doors. His host opened the doors to what could only be called a ballroom and Buck froze at the scene before him.
It was unlike any other club he had been in before. The large room was full to capacity, lit by enormous crystal chandeliers, all the men elegantly dressed in tuxedos of different styles, the women in extravagant or provocative gowns. He noted no two masks were the same; each seemed to have been designed for the person who wore it, all depicting the most various subjects, all showing the same splendid artwork of his own.
There was a live band playing and numerous couples were dancing on the floor. Buck blinked as he realized that not only there were heterosexual couples dancing, but also same gender ones, whether be it men or women. Apparently 'The Fantasia' was a very liberal club.
Buck walked slowly across the room, watching the happy crowd mulling around, trying to guess what the night would bring forth. He knew one of the rumors about the club was it fulfilled one's most secret fantasies. That certainly would not be happening to him; his most secret fantasy was at that moment in New Orleans, in the form of one green-eyed, brown-haired, sarcastic, brilliant, aggravating southern pain in the ass. 'And you wouldn't have him any other way,' his mind taunted him knowingly.
"Mr. Wilmington?" A voice called from behind him and he turned to face his host. "Your room is ready. Please, come with me."
Buck made sure he was alone before he investigated his new surroundings. He had indeed been taken to a room -- a bedroom. The only furniture in the sparsely lit quarters was a throne-type chair and a king size four-poster bed, which looked to his untrained eye, like a genuine antique. Soft music was floating from somewhere in the room, probably hidden speakers, and there were scented candles burning in a circle around the bed.
Suddenly suspicious but also curious despite himself, Buck sat on the throne chair and decided to wait for the mystery to unravel.
He didn't have long to wait. Not five minutes later, the door swung open and a man entered, eyes cast downward. He closed the door behind him and walked over to stand in front of the bed. He was shorter than Buck, but well built, tight black pants hugging slim, but powerful hips and thighs.
The man turned to him abruptly and Buck felt his heart lurch painfully. An equally black silk shirt flowed easily around the other man's torso, the top buttons open to reveal a smooth, strong chest. A sleek, seductive, black cat mask covered the vision before him, black iridescent coque feathers coated with champagne colored glitter shining eerily in the candle light.
But it was the man's eyes that made Buck's heart hammer in his chest. Because mask or no mask, there was no way he wouldn't recognize the familiar green eyes looking up at him. He would know those catlike eyes anywhere.
"Ez --" he began, but trailed off as the southerner touched a finger to his lips.
Buck swallowed hard as he watched Ezra's body begin to sway to the intoxicating beat of the music. The southerner backed up a step and began to dance slowly, never taking his eyes off of Buck's.
Buck grabbed the arms of the chair in a tight grip as he watched his seducer undulate his hips, writhing before him wantonly. He whimpered as Ezra's hands moved to his shirt buttons, slowly undoing each one, caressing his chest as more skin became visible. When the shirt hung open, he turned his back to Buck, jerking the shirt down and off, then made his way over to the bed, lifting one leg to place it on the bed's edge. He slid his boot off and then repeated his actions with his other leg.
Buck licked his lips, aroused beyond belief, watching every deliberately provocative move, fighting against the urge to reach out and touch the tight ass that moved so enticingly before him. Before he could make good on that thought, Ezra turned back to face him, hands dropping to the waistband of his pants, slowly undoing the button and pulling the zipper down.
Enough was enough. Not caring if he knocked down a candle or two on the way, Buck reached for Ezra and threw him down on the bed, ignoring the muffled chuckle as he pounced on the southerner, making short work of both of their clothes.
He covered the southerner's body with his own, feasting on the now naked body beneath him. He nibbled Ezra's Adam's apple, leaving a trail of wet kisses as he worked his way down to the soft skin of neck and shoulder. Ezra's breathless moans of pleasure turned to needy groans as he reached a nipple, licking at the little nub, and finally fastening his mouth on it. He alternated between licking, nipping and suckling, until he had the southerner bucking wildly beneath him, trying to hump his arousal against Buck's stomach.
"Oh, no!" Buck chuckled wickedly. "You started this, but I'm goin' to finish it."
He moved to the other nipple, tormenting the hard pebble the same way as its twin before kissing his way down to Ezra's navel, nipping at the hollow until the other man was sobbing Buck's name feverishly.
Ignoring the hard shaft straining for his attention, Buck spread Ezra's legs apart, moving to lie between them. He caressed the strong thighs, tracing the muscles with feather light touches, then allowed his fingers to stray to his lover's tight channel, growling as he found the passage already slick and ready for him.
"Damnit, Ez..." he panted harshly, his erection getting impossibly harder at the mental picture of the other man stretching himself for their encounter. "I can't wait..."
"Then don't," Ezra moaned, speaking for the first time. "I'm ready for you... Don't make me wait any further."
Unable to hold on against the fire burning inside for the other man, Buck positioned his cock at Ezra's entrance, and in one slow, smooth gesture, he buried himself to the hilt in the willing body. He leaned down to claim Ezra's mouth, which opened up to him immediately, tongues dancing sensually together as they kissed passionately.
Knowing he wasn't going to last long, Buck released Ezra's lips, groping between them to find his lover's neglected shaft and stroking it in time with his thrusts. Both reached their climaxes quickly, Ezra's cry of Buck's name signaling his climax, the feeling of the southerner's seed bathing their stomachs driving Buck over the edge as well, pumping his completion deep inside Ezra's body.
Neither moved for long minutes, and Buck snuggled against the other man, enjoying the reality of Ezra warm and sated in his arms. Finally, he pulled back to look at his lover, who still lay beneath him, eyes closed.
"So, how long have you been planning this?" He asked.
Ezra smiled, but didn't open his eyes. "For some time." He confessed softly. "I wasn't expecting to be sent to New Orleans, so I had to work around that. The club had orders to send the package with the invitation and the mask on a set date, so I was forced to work around the clock to be able to return to Denver today."
"How did you know..." Buck trailed off, uncertain on how to voice his question.
"That you would be receptive to my seduction?" Ezra asked, and this time he did look at Buck, honesty shining from the green depths. "I wish I could say I realized what you were feeling, but the truth is that JD told me you were in love with me."
"JD?!" Buck sat up on the bed.
"Yes." Ezra grinned. "I believe his exact words were 'I'm sick of hearing him sighing like a school girl every time you walk in the room'. Once I knew my own feelings were returned, I decided to act on them, since it was obvious you would not."
Buck smiled down at him. "So, you're sayin' you're in love with me too?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying." Ezra replied, smiling back.
"Good." Buck looked around absently. "Ezra, about this club..."
The other man chuckled. "Nothing to worry yourself about, Mr. Wilmington." He quipped. "They fulfill certain sexual fantasies within their power, for a price, of course. They screen their clientele very carefully and do nothing outside of the law, I assure you."
Buck nodded, believing him. "So, are you a regular?" He tried for nonchalance, but knew he had failed miserably when Ezra's hand caressed his arm gently, soothingly.
"No," The southerner replied. "I know the owner."
"Yes. And so do you."
"Not you?!" Buck started.
Ezra chuckled, but shook his head. "No. Mother."
"Maude owns this place?" Buck whistled. "I'll be...!"
He moved back to lie on the bed, resting his head on Ezra's shoulder. "Don't care who owns it or why. But it sure did make my fantasy come true." He whispered contentedly.
He suddenly yelped as in a swift move Ezra pushed him down and pinned him to the mattress. "Well, Mr. Wilmington," he purred into Buck's ear before nipping at the lobe. "Now let me show you one of *my* fantasies..."
And the clock struck twelve. Happy New Year!
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