By Valentin

Disclaimer: The auther does not own the characters from Hercules: the Legendary Journeys. Those characters belong to MCA/Universal and were used without permission. No copyright infringement intended and no money was made.

I didn't think I'd be able to come up with anything for this challenge, but ya gotta love dem guys -- they always got something to say.

So this is my Christmas present to you all.

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwaanza and whatever other glad tidings are in order to all the wonderful, insane, divinely smutty people on this fabulous list. It took us a while to get going, but I'd say we're rocking now.

To Summer Rain, for starting the list, and to Nephele, our poster and archivist, bless you for all your hard work. To Marti, Queenie and Ruric (let's see, British Iolausian Sluts... that leaves four more letters), whose irrepressible humour and prodigious output is keeping us all on our toes.

To all the writers, for sharing your visions of the Hercworld with us.

To all the readers, for letting us know you appreciate our visions.

And especially to Wolf and Rudy (yes, I know y'all probably think we're this twisted little mutual admiration society, but you have to remember there was a time when we thought we were the only ones in the world who "saw" Herc and Iolaus), whose love for each other is so boundless that they have room in their generous hearts for me.

I love and admire you both endlessly.

"Herc."

""What?"

"Have you ever wondered where baby centaurs come from?"

Hercules opened an eye and rolled it at his lover, who lay gazing pensively into the arc of stars over their heads. "Iolaus, don’t waste your breath trying to convince me you need a lecture on the birds and the bees. If there’s a person in Greece who knows more about sex than you do, I don’t think I want to meet them. Is this another one of those post-coital deliriums?"

Iolaus shifted on to his side, propping his head on his hand to frown at Hercules. "No, no, no, I’m serious, Herc. I mean, think about it. Have you ever seen a girl centaur?"

"Well, no, now that you mention it, but that doesn’t mean --"

"So where are they? Is there some kind of big girl-centaur dormitory somewhere?"

"Iolaus, that’s --"

"And if there aren’t any girl centaurs, does that mean that all centaurs come from human-centaur matings? And why are all the babies always boy centaurs? Why don’t they ever have human girls?"

Warming to his subject, Iolaus sat up excitedly and the blanket they shared slipped to his lap, his naked shoulders glowing bronze in the firelight. If Hercules squinted, he could make out the darker bronze pool in the hollow of his throat. If Iolaus would just lie down again, Hercules would be able to put his lips where that shadow kissed him.

"Maybe they just --"

"You remember my friend Tirius?" He plunged on without waiting for Hercules’ guarded nod. "His grandmother was Egyptian. I met her once, and she was really dark-skinned, almost as dark as Gladius. But Tirius’ mother wasn’t as dark as her mother was, and Tirius isn’t even as dark as her; in fact, he isn’t much darker than you are."

"Iolaus, you’re giving me a headache," Hercules groaned. If only he wasn’t so damn irresistible when he got fired up about something. If only he’d stop talking; Hercules could think of far better uses for that tempting, talented mouth. "What’s the damn point?"

Iolaus shot him a look of withering scorn. "The point is that Tirius has one part Egyptian blood and three parts Greek blood, and the Greek blood sort of overpowers the Egyptian blood, I guess, and... well, there you are. So if there are no girl centaurs, and all centaurs *are* born from human mothers, then, assuming this has been going on for, say, twenty or so generations, the centaur blood should have been completely overpowered by the human blood by now, and there shouldn’t be any centaurs at all!" He smiled triumphantly.

"Iolaus."

"You know, I think I’m on to something here, Herc!"

"Iolaus, there *are* centaurs."

"I *know* that, Herc."

"So obviously your theory doesn’t take one important factor into account."

Iolaus looked at him, eyebrows arched questioningly.

"Gods," Hercules said simply, and Iolaus sagged, defeated.

"There goes the Iolausian Theory of Relatives, shot to Hades," he said morosely. "Thanks a lot, Herc."

He lay down again, scuffling with the thick rug under them until it was smooth enough to suit him, arranging Hercules’ arm under his head and shaking the blanket briskly, cursing when it fluttered to rest above his ankles and he had to sit up to pull it back over his feet. By the time he pillowed his head on Hercules’ arm again, it was vibrating with Hercules’ efforts to suppress his mirth.

He sat up and gave his amused lover a wounded glare, then his eyes took on that faraway look again. "Herc. Have you ever seen a centaur’s cock?"

Hercules sighed rather wistfully. "Yeah. Depressing, isn’t it?"

Iolaus concurred abstractedly, then they gave each other speculative glances. "You haven’t... of course not!" they chorused simultaneously, and Iolaus added, wincing, "There isn’t enough wine in the whole world."

"Or a big enough blindfold," Hercules finished. Iolaus nodded fervently.

"Which brings me to another question," he said, brightening.

"At least lie down for this one. You keep pulling the blanket off me, and I’m getting cold," Hercules complained. Iolaus obligingly resumed his position on Hercules’ bicep, pulling the demigod’s other hand down to his groin.

"Hot enough for you?" he grinned, his cock stirring to life under Hercules’ wide palm. He drew in a sharp breath as Hercules’ hand slid between his legs, nudging his thighs apart, to press gently against the twin spheres of his balls as his fingers danced lightly, rhythmically, across the velvet portal behind them.

"Don’t mind me," he said softly into Iolaus’ ear. "You were saying?" He followed the words with a quick dip of his tongue, tracing the curves of his ear before taking Iolaus’ earring into his mouth and tugging on it gently.

Iolaus shivered, reaching up to clutch the hand that circled his shoulder, playing lightly with a nipple. "I was saying," he continued, faltering as Hercules’ other hand engulfed his burgeoning erection, "I was saying that I’ve seen a centaur’s cock, and I’ve seen my share of women, too. But what I *don’t* see... gods, that feels amazing... is how they take one of those monsters on without splitting down the middle. Wait, wet your... damn, I can’t *think* when you do that... And how do they carry a twenty-pound , four-legged... Herc!... *baby* in those little bodies for nine months, oh gods...

Iolaus gave up and rolled atop Hercules, pressing their hips tightly together and sinking his teeth into a tender nipple roughly, perfectly. His movement had trapped Hercules’ arm under his thigh, and now he pushed back hard against the finger that had been slipping teasingly just inside his opening, only to withdraw again. Unlubricated by saliva or semen, it moved into him like an invasion, and he growled his pleasure against the hard nipple he worried between his teeth.

"Iolaus," his lover groaned, and pushed him onto his back again, sliding down his body, pressing the heel of his hand hard against Iolaus’ balls, sinking his finger deeply into his body, grasping his cock tightly in his other hand and sending rough, splintering swipes of his tongue across its head. Iolaus’ hips rose off the rug and he gripped Hercules’ shoulder beseechingly, pulling at it until the demigod offered himself to Iolaus’ eager mouth.

Iolaus came first, peaking in a long, shuddering climax as Hercules caught his seed in his hand, pulling himself from Iolaus’ mouth and spreading it over his cock. Iolaus was still clenching spasmodically around his finger when he slid it out and thrust his cock easily into that impossibly hot, clinging place. Iolaus was boneless under him, and Hercules bent his knees, pushing them against his chest and thrusting as deeply as he could, twisting his hips until Iolaus’ arched back and grunting breaths told him he’d attained that shattering place within him.

Iolaus reached blindly for his hands, finding them planted solidly on either side of his hips, seizing his wrists like anchors, trying to pull himself more tightly against Hercules’ cock. His own had softened only slightly after his orgasm, and it rode slickly against the fur of Hercules’ belly as he moved rhythmically above his lover.

So intent was he on the passion he was painting on that beloved face that his own orgasm took him almost by surprise, an abrupt maelstrom of knife-sharp ecstasy. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, balancing on the sharp edge of that pleasure as he continued to thrust, until Iolaus made a sound that was almost a sob and Hercules froze within him, the ripples of Iolaus’ second orgasm seeming to wrap themselves around Hercules’ very spine.

Iolaus was still breathing jerkily, audibly, when he released Hercules’ wrists and pushed weakly against his chest. Hercules slumped to the ground beside him as Iolaus straightened his legs with a sigh of relief, then blew out a last mighty breath. "I’d give one of my balls for a drink of water right now," he remarked conversationally.

"I’d just as soon you hung on to ‘em," Hercules answered, groping beside him for the waterskin and passing it over. Iolaus gulped greedily, finally wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and handing the waterskin back to Hercules.

"Herc, how far from here do Deric and Lyla live?"

"Deric and Lyla?"

"You know, Deric the centaur and Lyla the girl who married him."

"I know who Deric and Lyla are, Iolaus. What are you planning to do, ask Lyla how she does it?"

"Well... Herc, maybe centaurs can get pregnant! Maybe they only *look* like boys, but they have two sets of equipment. I could try and sneak a peek under Deric’s tail, whaddaya think?"

Hercules sat up and stared at Iolaus until his look of wide-eyed innocence dissolved into a fit of giggles. "I think that if I hear another word about centaurs tonight, you’re not going to be able to sit down tomorrow."

"Promises, promises," Iolaus taunted, tilting a grin at him. Hercules settled on the rug and drew Iolaus into his arms.

"Shut up and go to sleep, and I won’t have to kill you," he murmured into his hair.

"I love you, too," Iolaus assured him, and as usual, was asleep by the time he drew his fifth breath. Hercules breathed in the lavender scent of his hair and yawned until his eyes watered, and prayed Morpheus would take pity on him. Where *did* baby centaurs come from, anyway?

Damn you, Iolaus.

THE END