Julian had never understood the appeal of clubs. They were loud, cramped, hot, and populated by some of the lowest IQ's imaginable. This club, of course, was no different. The only difference was the horrible, bulky accents spilling out of every mouth around him.

And yet, somehow, he found himself in a wonderful mood. Everything was exactly the same, but it was somehow distant from him. It didn't matter. Julian was a thousand feet tall and all anyone could do to him was nip at the bottoms of his feet.

As they entered the club, Noel traipsed directly to the bar and ordered four extremely colorful shots. Julian picked up his first shot. "To America," he said.

"What?"

Julian lifted his mask up. "To America," he repeated. While the mask was up, he gave Noel a wink. Noel grinned like a child.

"To N'awlins," Noel exclaimed, then knocked back his shot. Julian followed suit.

They polished off the other shots and both ordered drinks for themselves. Julian turned to Noel and held out a hand.

"Shall we?"

Noel hesitated. "What, dance?"

Julian smirked, which he knew Noel couldn't see. Noel was surprised, shocked even. Generally, if Julian danced, it was after several grueling minutes of taunting, pleading, guilting, and insulting before he would begrudgingly follow, then he would halfheartedly bounce on his heels until he abruptly left the floor in embarrassment and irritation.

But there was nothing to be embarrassed for, nothing to be irritated by. Nothing could get to the man tonight, and he wanted to prove it to Noel. Thankfully, it didn't take much convincing. Noel slipped his fingers between Julian's and allowed himself to be led to the floor.

They danced near each other but not on top of each other. Julian, hidden behind the mask, watched Noel's unselfconscious girations, his arms which always found themselves above his head, exposing his midriff. Noel looked up once in a while to make sure Julian was watching and each time, Julian held Noel's gaze.

After a few songs, Julian became aware of two girls who were sidling up next to them. They were pretty enough, but not nearly as pretty as they thought they were. Or at least, they weren't as pretty as they wanted Julian and Noel to think they were.

One of the girls picked Julian out and angled toward him. "Hi!" she yelled over the poppy music.

"Evening, milady," Julian called back.

She grinned and, after dancing a bit closer to him, she said, "I like your height!"

Julian nodded. "Okay. I like your... earlobes."

He was pretty sure she had not heard him, because she started laughing hysterically. She did not seem the type who would understand his sense of humor.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Nikolai Brunsden," he answered without missing a beat.

Unfortunately, his comedic timing was trampled over when her face contorted in confusion and she yelled, "What'd you say?"

Julian lifted his mask up just enough to uncover his mouth. "You may call me The Duke."

Her eyes got big. "You're British!"

Smiling, he said, "Yes, and you're American."

She giggled. "Yeah, but that's normal."

He forced a tight smile and looked over at Noel. Noel was politely chatting up his girl, but his eyes were on Julian. The corner of Noel's mouth rose sharply upward in a cheeky smirk.

Julian turned back to the youngish girl (certainly dressed much younger than she was) and lifted his mask. He leaned in close to her neck and relished the slightly terrified look that passed over her features. "Now, you cheeky minx," he murmured, "you're crashin' in on me date."

He gave her cheek a quick peck and then pushed past her to approach her friend. He was about to tap her on the shoulder and ask to cut in, but Noel looked up and gave a wide grin.

"Hey, baby," he cried, then stepped forward to fling his hands around Julian's neck. One of the hands made their way down to Julian's chest and began playing with his shirt buttons.

The girls cleared out soon after and Noel and Julian were able to dance alone again.

Noel had never seen Julian like this. He didn't know what to think about it.

It was as if Julian was a brand new person. For fuck's sake, the man was actually moving his hips, swaying his head, doing proper dance moves. Plus, now and then, he would even grab Noel's hand to lead him into a twirl or just pull him in close for a second and then inexplicably let go again. There may as well have been nobody else in the club.

"You're in a good mood tonight, eh?" Noel leaned in and yelled over the music.

Julian nodded without breaking stride in his ambling dance.

"I like it," Noel said as he stroked his fingers down Julian's broad chest.

Suddenly, Julian shot out a hand and caught Noel's forearm, pulled the man against him. Julian's other hand crept around to Noel's spine and slid upward to the back of his neck and sat there like a spider waiting for its prey.

Noel hooked his thumb into Julian's belt loop, easing the man's pelvis closer. "You're so loose," Noel murmured, "I don't know the last time you were this..." He sighed as Julian's long thumb reached up from its perch to stroke the nape of his neck, up the side, behind the ear, and back down again. His thumb traced and retraced this path as Noel let the thought go and they continued to move in time to the music.

Noel looked up at his friend, but all he could see was the exaggerated purple grin of the Mardi Gras mask.

"Do you wanna go for a smoke?" he managed to squeak out.

Julian looked down at Noel, then shrugged. "I'm fine. Do you?"

Noel shrugged. "Thought you might need a rest."

Julian turned his hand so the tips of his fingernails could slide slowly down the side of Noel's neck. "I'm just getting started, love."

The music was blurred together so that there were no pauses between songs, so that it was like one long party song. Normally this would have annoyed Julian, given him a headache and exhausted him physically, mentally, spiritually.

But tonight he was grateful for the constant stream of stimulation. Any break in the music, any distraction might shatter the spell he was governed by. This strange confidence, this suaveness, this incredible hunger for every inch of Noel's skin might dissipate completely at any second and there was no telling when or why it was going to happen.

This was not Julian. Julian did not stroke jawbones or interlock fingers in public. Noel did that and Julian shied away until one of them gave up and they either did or did not fuck.

And who was Noel, acting all shy and submissive? Letting Julian guide Noel's hips, never changing course unless Julian gave a cue. He was usually spastic and unpredictable, both when dancing or making love. Whenever Julian had before tried to take the reins, Noel railed against the threat of being controlled, throwing a fit or lashing out. Tonight, though, he seemed to welcome relenting to Julian's touch and following the older man's lead.

Julian was hard as a rock and decided to let Noel know by grinding himself into Noel's thigh. The younger man looked up, and Julian could just see the man's wide green-blue eyes under the shadow of the black mask. They were big and unfocused, in that dreamy, clouded way he always took on when he was really getting turned on.

Julian swallowed hard. He leaned forward so his masked lips were closer to Noel's mouth, then gripped Noel's pointy chin in his fingers and dragged the other man's face forward. Noel closed his eyes and tilted his head so the mask's long nose would not be in the way.

Noel's kiss pressed the smooth, cold plastic against Julian's own lips. It was an odd, thrilling sensation to be kissed and not feel it. Intimate, yet detached; wild, yet safe.

When Noel pulled away, he was grinning, but not that crazed, giddy grin he was wearing earlier. This one was full of surprise, and maybe a hint of confusion.

"What's gotten into you?" Noel mouthed.

"I think it's this mask," Julian said, his voice making buzzy vibrations on the plastic, "It makes me feel-"

"What?" Noel yelled.

Julian pushed the mask back and swept up close to Noel's ear. "You wanna get out of here?" he asked.

Noel nodded.