Kiwi's Note: This came from one of the many impromptu RPs Apple and I do on our message board. This is actually one of the few more plausible situations we've come up with in our crack-filled insanity...which, you might be able to guess from reading, is saying something.

As always, warnings for teeny, tiny hints of male/male slash. P

Poker Night

"What are you waiting for, Morgan? Deal the next hand!" Wolf said, settling back into his chair and making himself comfortable. His friend raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

"I rather fail to see the point," he responded, cradling his chin in his hand and resting his elbow on the edge of the table, smirking across the way at Wolf. "You seem to have lost. Again."

Wolf raised one of his own eyebrows and settled back a bit further in his chair, draping one arm over the back of it to show off the top portion of his torso to the best advantage. "I don't see why that means we need to stop playing," he said. "Besides, if I win this next hand, I can put my trousers back on, and we can keep going from there."

"But what will you do if you lose? You don't have anything left to take off," Morgan pointed out, looking his friend up and down and taking in what he could see of the man's body with evident pleasure. "Oh!" he said suddenly, sitting up. There was a wicked grin on his face, which did not bode well for Wolf.

"Oh?" Wolf prompted, wondering what twisted scheme his friend had concocted this time. Not that it mattered much, he supposed. As long as it didn't involve that psycho Kristine in any way, shape, or form, he'd most likely agree to whatever it was that Morgan proposed.

"If you lose you have to streak in the dormitories for the corps de ballet!"

Wolf refrained from rolling his eyes. "Alright," he growled. "Now deal!"

Morgan shuffled the deck, presented it to Wolf to be cut, then dealt the next round. Less than three minutes later, the two lay their cards out on the table for the other to inspect. Wolf groaned and cradled his head in his hands, while Morgan crossed his arms and grinned insufferably, triumphant.

"Well, Wolf, there's no time like the present!" he informed his friend cheerfully. "To the dorms with you! And do remember to smile, please!"

Muttering unflattering epithets under his breath, Wolf pushed his chair away from the table and stood, reaching for his trousers.

"What are you doing?" Morgan asked, a gentle smirk playing about his lips.

"You said 'through the dormitories', not 'through the whole bloody opera house'," Wolf pointed out, shoving first one foot, then the other, into the legs of his leather britches.

"So I did...pity..." Morgan murmured, watching somewhat sadly as Wolf pulled the black leather up to cover his bare arse and fastened the belt and zip.

"Well?" Wolf asked, turning to look at his friend. "You coming?"

"I wouldn't miss this for all the gold in the kingdom," Morgan said with a mischievous grin, pushing his own chair back from the table and standing.

Together, the two men left the back-stage area where they had their card table set up and made their way through the opera house to the dormitories, Morgan sniggering occasionally and Wolf rolling his eyes at his friend's juvenile antics.

When they reached the door which lead into the dormitories, Wolf stripped off his trousers without a word, folded them carefully, and presented them to Morgan.

"I have full confidence that nothing will happen to these in my absence," he said, fixing Morgan with a Look. The dark-haired man blinked innocently.

"Of course – they shall be as safe with me as they are with you," Morgan promised. Wolf raised an eyebrow but nodded, then pushed open the door and strode in.

The following scandalized shrieks that resulted from this simple action had Morgan grinning from ear to ear. He peeked round the corner of the door to have a look at the chaos his friend was causing with his presence, and was not disappointed.

Doors slammed shut all along the narrow hall as Wolf sashayed down to the end, where he turned around and leaned against the bare wall, staring back across the distance at Morgan. He stayed there for a moment, stretching his long, lean frame so that his fingers almost touched the ceiling. Then he winked at Morgan, blew him a kiss, and began sashaying back. The manager of the opera house was highly amused that many of the doors that had been slammed shut previously creaked very carefully open. A handful of the older girls actually poked their heads out of their rooms once Wolf had walked past a second time, and watched his progress towards the exit with expressions Morgan could only describe as fascinated.

Once Wolf was safely back on the other side of the door and the door just as securely shut, the entire hall beyond burst into peals of hysterical shrieks, laughter, squealing, and other such noises. Wolf smirked at Morgan and held out his hand for his trousers, which he relinquished without a fuss.

"Show off," Morgan said affectionately as the silver-haired man once more tugged his britches back up around his narrow hips.

Wolf said nothing, smirking.

"You up for a night out?" Morgan asked as the two began walking somewhat aimlessly back the way they had come. Wolf slapped the man on his rear, and almost immediately had to duck out of the way of a falling bass drum, which appeared as if by magic from a hidden trap door just above his head.

"Kristine!" Morgan shouted, highly annoyed when he saw what exactly had smashed upon the floor. "If you do not refrain from throwing expensive instruments at my guests, I shall not refrain from throwing you out on your arse! Do you hear me!?"

The only answer was a very quiet thumping, which the two men took to be Kristine scurrying away along the hidden passage above their heads.

"A night out sounds fantastic," Wolf said, as if the sudden attempt on his life and Morgan's subsequent annoyance had never occurred.

"Excellent!" Morgan responded, irritation forgotten. "Let's gather the rest of your clothes and be on our way, then."