Happy Birthday, Buck
(modern day)

by MAC

Disclaimer: I don't own them, or the show they rode in on.

Buck rubbed his hands together in anticipation. Ever since he'd told Ezra about his childhood in Las Vegas, Ez'd had a funny gleam in his eyes. And a quirky smile. And Buck couldn't wait 'cause when Ez got that way, fun always followed. And now it was his birthday and Ezra always made it special for him.

Ezra had done something to the lights in their apartment. Each lamp was draped with a thin piece of fine red gauze, leaving the lighting subdued, warm and complimentary to the gas fire that flickered to his right. Buck tried to sprawl back in his overstuffed armchair, but every time he had his long limbs draped in a position of relaxation, his nerves would kick back in and everything would tighten up. He'd end up back on the edge of the seat, facing the closed drapes of the arch between their living room and dining room.

The ticking of the anniversary clock over their mantle was the only sound in the room, well that and his breathing which was becoming decidedly hoarse just now. He wondered just how hard it was going to be to keep his promise to stay seated once the curtains opened. Definitely going to be a trial, he decided ruefully yet with a tingle of anticipation.

At first he wasn't sure he heard it. He cocked his head to one side, yep, music. Bolero. One of Ezra's favorites. He often played it while they made love on their oversized king bed. Buck's body responded to the music like Pavlov's dog. He came to attention - all over.

The spotlight, that usually hit their painting of a wilderness scene over the mantle, came on. Only it had been swiveled in its socket and was aimed at the center of the closed drapes. The music was getting louder now, and Buck knew his pulse was keeping time with it. He'd felt a bit chilled at first, sitting here naked as a jaybird, but that was changing now. The heat from the fire and the adrenalin rushing through him were making him sweat. He hazarded one glance south to see himself rising tautly, head glistening in the subdued light.

Then a plume emerged from between the curtains. A big'um. Ostrich. Buck licked his lips. Hot damn.

Ezra gently shook the plume he was holding through the curtains, a smile gleaming across his face as he imagined what Buck must look like by now, unclothed, bathed only in the reddish hues of the lamps and the flickering light of the fire. He'd managed to put a rose filter on the spot light so that when it hit his own body, he would be bleached by the light. Now. With a quick tug on the drape pull, he had the curtains parted. He drew the first plume back against his body as he stood there sturdily, legs spread, in the archway.

Buck lurched half-way out of his seat before clearly remembering his promise and with a groan, dragging himself with clawed hands back up into his seat, dark blue eyes already aflame. The groan became a word. "Ezraaaaaaaaaah."

But Ezra had wiped his face clean of expression except for the tease in his glittering green eyes. For Buck, he could be anything, do anything. He settled the other enormous plume over his shoulders so that he peered through the bits of feather at his lover, partner. Tufts of the downy parts were artfully arranged in his chestnut hair, a braid of gold at his hips was woven with more of the fluffy bits of feather, all white or pale tan, blending with his creamy pale skin. His own erection was framed with a circlet of white down, creating a flower-like appearance at his groin. Ezra hadn't been sure of the effect when he experimented but the minute he saw Buck in abandon on the chair, his shaft had jumped to throbbing life and he knew it was exactly as the costumer had advertised.

Buck gripped the arms of the chair, nearly driving his nails into the heavy leather. He could feel his feet arch on their balls, heels pressing into the front of the armchair's leather bound skirting. Ezra stood before him swaying with the music's repetitive theme, his movements increasing slightly with each escalation of the sound. Hips thrusting forward, then back, shoulders dipping to one side, twist, then back to shimmy in front, then to the other to dip and twist and return.

Ezra's legs were lightly bent so that he could maintain his balance, his thigh muscles rippling with the efforts at pelvic shudders, his calves straining to hold him in place. He worked with restraint to glide the two huge plumes in graceful slides up and down his body. His skin was alive with the constant provocation of the feathers' gentle tickles. He knew his breathing had increased. As the music began to alternate themes, Ezra finally moved from his spot.

He stalked slowly forward, the plumes out like wings, his movements graceful and predatory. Buck inhaled sharply at the musky scent of Ezra's arousal competing with his own. With a gasp that quickly became a whimper, Buck strained forward, his chest arched out, shoulders back as one of the plumes curled down around his neck and then rippled on down across his chest to tease his erection. "Shit, Ezra!" He was panting now, jerkily lifting and lowering his hips from the seat, neck pulled back and exposed to Ezra's second plume that now engulfed his face and neck in a flurry of downy touches.

Ezra licked his lips, barely able to restrain himself. He knocked his knees against the fronts of the chair's arms, bracketing Buck's long, long legs. He lowered on to them with a sigh and slid forward until his shaft, enhanced with its circlet of feathers, bumped against Buck's.

Both men cried out then, and Buck lunged forward enough to ensnare his teasing, provocative mate and yank Ezra up close against his chest. Both plumes were trapped between their heaving chests as Buck forced his face through the fletches to meet Ezra's lips with his own in a consuming kiss. Buck widened his mouth to enclose Ezra's within it and devour his smaller lover. Ezra began to squirm and growl until Buck pulled back enough to release those luscious lips.

"Buck," Ezra blew out a few tiny bits of feather and coughed delicately, his face ruddy with their encounter, "Buck, do you like my costume?" The rest came out in a breathy rush.

Wilmington recognized the little boy's question in his grown up lover. His heart swelled with pride that Ezra trusted him so deeply that he let his inner child out to play, knowing he'd be safe, cherished. "Yep, darlin', I love my big bird."

"Big Bird?" Outrage tinged Ezra's precise enunciation.

Buck grinned and snuggled them closer despite the stiffened posture of his little sparrow. "Well, sure, darlin', what with all these feathers --" He let the rest of the thought remain unsaid as he leaned back enough to pull the two large plumes free from between them. He looked down to see their shafts lying side by side, pressed close at their joined hips. A ruffling of white feather tickled him down there. "Ezra, what the hell did you do to yourself?"

Standish tried to slide back on Buck's thighs, clearly heading for offended escape over Buck's knees, but the bigger man was having none of that and kept a firm hug around his friend. Ezra's flushed face was endearing as his big green eyes looked up into passionate midnight blue ones.

"I thought you'd like it. My version of a Vegas show girl. My birthday present for you." He looked away. "Happy Birthday, Buck," he ended quietly.

Buck loosened his grip so he could bring one hand back and gently tug that stubborn chin back toward him. "Ezra? I loved it. Thank you, best present you ever gave me. You got me hard as a rock here, should be proof enough." His smile was softer now, coaxing.

Green eyes met his hesitantly, examined his face with minute care, and then relaxed. "You can deplume me if you would like." The offer was a whisper.

"I like." Buck leaned back in for another kiss and then slid his head forward to whisper in Ezra's ear, "And I loved your show, darlin', figure I'm gonna have a bird for my dinner."

The answering chuckle was all the encouragement Mr. Wilmington needed.


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