by Margaret
14/07/99
Disclaimer: I don't own Duncan or Methos or the concept of Immortality, which is a shame because I have this nice recipe for chocolate sauce. They belong to Rysher and Panzer/Davis which wouldn't be so bad if only they wanted to borrow the recipe :-)
Notes: Thanks to Karen for encouragement, beta and the not-so-innocent comment that left me with a persistent mental image that just demanded a PWP :-)
Rating: NC-17 for m/m sex
"A little more of this I think." Methos muttered to himself as he splashed a little more alcohol into the mixing bowl. He was quite enjoying himself as he wandered from saucepan to fridge and back, preparing the Highlander's birthday dinner. It had surprised his lover to discover that he knew how to cook, until Methos had pointed out that for most of his life fast food had meant something you needed a bow and arrow to kill. Despite being more than happy to let Duncan cook most of their meals, Methos had nevertheless felt the need to do something a little special to celebrate his lover's birthday, the first since they had become more than just friends. Even with the promise of a Christmas party at Joe's only a couple of days away, it had taken their combined powers of persuasion - and solemn oaths to attend - to convince their friends to allow them this private celebration. They intended to make the most of it. To this end, Methos had taken it upon himself to prepare a memorable meal for his Highland lover.
It was almost finished now and most of the dishes were either waiting in the fridge or in the oven. At the moment though, he was working on dessert - a rather wicked confection of his own devising. When he'd made it for Alexa she had complained that it was too much chocolate. In his experience there was no such thing and by the time she'd finished her third helping she had been won over to his way of thinking.
He stirred the mixture a couple more times, smiling sadly over his memories of Alexa, before turning his thoughts to happier subjects, such as the plans he had for tonight. He had even dressed for the occasion, black slacks and a green silk shirt to match his eyes; contrary to popular opinion he was quite capable of looking smart when he chose and given Mac's reaction when he'd seen the result, he'd definitely chosen well. Now all that remained was to finish off dessert, set the table and put 5,000 years worth of seductive skill into ensuring his efforts weren't going to go to waste. That was, if Mac ever finished in the shower.
Methos gave the mixture another stir and turned off the heat. He was tapping the excess liquid from the spoon when he heard the bathroom door open, he glanced up... and froze. Standing in the doorway was a freshly showered, nearly naked Highlander. Quite a magnificent sight. The meal went forgotten as his gaze roamed appreciatively over his lover's glistening body.
Long, dark hair hung damply, falling forward to partially shadow his face. Dark eyes made tempting promises, and the full lips were quirked in a half-smile at Methos' obvious distraction. Duncan shook his hair back out of his face and let his lover look his fill.
A bead of water fell from the dark hair and Methos found himself completely incapable of looking away as it traced a path over bronzed skin, following the well-defined contours of his lover's oh-so-tempting body to eventually disappear beneath the small towel slung low on his hips. Released from its spell Methos flicked his eyes up to meet a look full of such sultry promise that his hopes for the evening weren't all that it raised...
Methos shrugged uncomfortably inside his suddenly too-confining clothes, dragged forcibly back to the here and now. "Shit!" he swore as he finally noticed the steady stream of warm, sticky goo that had trickled down the handle of the spoon and all over his hand. Cursing to himself, he threw the spoon in the sink and looked around for the tea-towel. For a moment he almost contemplated just wiping his hand on his trousers, but reconsidered. He had dressed up especially for this and chocolate stains would definitely detract from the intended effect. Ah well, one lost moment, but if things went the way he'd planned this evening there'd be plenty of opportunity to make up for it. As Methos began to pull various dishes out of the oven he absently raised his hand to his mouth and began to lick it clean.
Duncan was transfixed. He'd enjoyed catching Methos off-guard and was more than a little pleased by his lover's reaction, but he hadn't counted on this... He watched as Methos' tongue snaked out to twine around one long finger, cleaning it of the chocolatey goo he had been making. Methos was concentrating on setting out the dishes one-handed and the sensual display was completely unintentional - for some reason that only made it infinitely more compelling.
Duncan moved closer, drawn by the unconscious seduction of his ancient lover. A long, slender finger abruptly disappeared into his lover's mouth and Duncan felt his towel loosen precariously as previously forgotten parts of his anatomy perked up.
"If you wouldn't mind carrying some of these through..." Methos' resonant baritone sent a shiver down his spine, but understanding the actual words was beyond Duncan's current mental capacity. Though he struggled valiantly, any chance he may have had of regaining some ability was effectively sabotaged when Methos punctuated the statement with a broad sweep of his tongue across the palm of his hand and then sucked each of his fingers into his mouth, one by one, removing the last traces of chocolate.
Duncan's brain was on autopilot as he moved closer and took the bowl from the counter. When Methos turned to root in the fridge for the last of the dishes, Duncan slowly and quite deliberately poured a generous amount of the chocolate mixture over the back of his lover's neck. He watched in fascination as the stream of dark chocolate made its way over his lover's pale skin, such a lovely contrast.
"Mac*Leod*!" Methos squawked, spinning around to confront the Highlander's rather dreamy expression. "*What* are you..." The rest of the sentence was obliterated by the skilful application of a rough velvet tongue as it followed the thin trails of chocolate. Methos was of no mind to object when Duncan then began to pull his shirt open. He didn't even notice when several of the buttons pinged off the cupboard doors after their somewhat forceful liberation from the silk. He did, however, notice the slick, slightly warm stream of chocolate as it was poured into the hollow at the base of his throat to spill over and slide sensuously down his now bared chest. His lover's lips and tongue followed, assiduously cleaning it off. It felt niiice...
Mac dropped the bowl onto the floor, fleetingly thankful that it didn't break, unwilling to tear his eyes from the vision before him. Methos stood facing him. His shirt was undone, but still tucked in to loosened slacks. It had slipped off his shoulders to slide halfway down his arms, leaving his chest bare, the pale skin smeared with the remains of the chocolate. Those fantastic chameleon eyes were closed and Methos' head was tilted back, exposing his vulnerable throat to his lover. Mac swallowed. Hard.
Methos had abandoned his usual attire for this special occasion and Mac's self-control had been sorely tested by the result. He had immediately determined to see if he couldn't persuade his lover to dress up a bit more often. The elegant creature that had replaced his normally scruffy lover had been *very* sexy, but Methos' dishevelled state right now took temptation to whole new levels and was more than enough to undermine Mac's hard-won control.
The sensuous nature of the ancient Immortal had been one of the more surprising discoveries Mac had made of his lover. But the trust and ...love Methos was capable of, that was normally so well-hidden, continued to awe him. And what had been a simple desire to fuck the elder Immortal senseless became instead an overwhelming need to demonstrate his love and how grateful he felt for having finally been allowed to see Methos' own love for him.
Mac simply had to touch the pale skin presented for him, and he let his fingertips lightly trace the line of his lover's jaw. Methos' head came up, seeking to prolong the contact, and his eyes opened to fix the Highlander with the deep green, slightly dazed look of arousal Mac loved so well. Lips parted to release a low moan as Mac's hand slid down the bare chest, and Mac found himself absolutely unable to resist claiming that mouth for his own. The lingering taste of chocolate in his lover's mouth and his own, mixed with the unique taste of the ancient Immortal, was intoxicating. Certainly after that long, deep exploration, Mac was feeling somewhat light-headed... although admittedly that could have been the lack of oxygen. Nevertheless he wasn't going to let that stop him as he dove in for another kiss and another, drawing his lover's tongue into his mouth and making it welcome. While his mouth was occupied, he slid his hands down; slipping them beneath the loosened slacks to rest on his lover's narrow hips. Mac slowly pulled them both down to the floor and Methos went willingly.
In the end Mac had to regretfully break the kiss to better position himself for what he had in mind. He knelt naked between his lover's spread legs; his towel had already fallen unnoticed to the ground. He was intent on freeing Methos from the confines of his underwear. That done, Mac moved up Methos' body making sure there was plenty of skin contact along the way. Methos' eyes weren't too focused by the time Mac had reached a point where he could look into them, but they held a spark of curiosity. "You'll like this. I promise," Mac whispered huskily, before giving in to the persistent urge to kiss his lover breathless.
Gasping for breath, Mac finally pulled himself away, studying with some satisfaction the swollen lips, heaving chest and dark, glazed eyes of his lover. It took rather more effort than he had expected to prop himself on one hand in order to reach with the other for the discarded chocolate bowl. Sinking back onto his haunches, Mac smiled at the dawn of realisation in Methos' eyes and slowly tipped the bowl.
Warm chocolate syrup splashed onto pale, sweat-damp skin, following the curves and contours of Methos' body, pooling in the hollow of his throat, the shallow crease between his pecs, the dip of his navel. Methos found himself holding his breath in anticipation of what he knew would follow. And sure enough... Mac lowered his head and began to lick off the excess chocolate, whereupon further consideration of the Highlander's plans became quite impossible.
Mac was having difficulty restraining himself, Methos' sensuous shifting beneath him as he applied himself to his chosen task was a serious distraction. But the Highlander was known for his single-mindedness on occasion and he called on it now. He told himself it would be worth the wait, ignored the increasingly insistent ache in his groin and focused entirely on pleasuring his ancient lover.
Mac pulled back for a moment to view his handiwork and catch his breath; Methos was straining to be still beneath him, accepting of Mac's control over their lovemaking and struggling to comply. Mac felt a warmth bloom deep within him and smiled warmly before bending his head to reward his lover's compliance. For all Immortals the neck was an erogenous zone, for Methos it seemed more so than usual. Perhaps it had been an erogenous zone when he had been mortal and its sensitivity had increased when he came into his Immortality. Or perhaps it was simply the legacy of his 5,000 years. Neither of them knew, but Mac was more than prepared to take advantage of it.
Using delicate flicks of his tongue, Mac lapped up the chocolate from his lover's throat. He swiped his tongue up along the length of the vein to Methos' ear and nipped at the lobe. The resultant cry sent a rush of blood straight to his cock, where it shifted tantalisingly against Methos' own. Mac exhaled against the sensitive skin of his lover's neck, delighting in the shiver that ran the length of the lithe body. Slowly he nibbled his way back down, seeking out the last traces of chocolate with his tongue before sucking lightly at the pale skin. Methos' breathing was shaky and his body trembled with the strain of keeping still by the time Mac was convinced that the area was clean. Satisfied with the results, Mac returned to his original plan.
And people called *him* a ruthless bastard. Methos groaned as Mac paused in his sensual assault, quite certain he was going to go completely out of his mind before Mac would grant him release. Insanity loomed as he felt Mac begin again, but it wasn't *quite* enough to make him want it to stop. Strong fingers moved outward from the centre of his chest, barely touching, but leaving behind a trail of sticky, wet sensation. His brain short-circuiting, Methos could still make out the pattern of touch; lazy spirals slowly drawing in to centre on his nipples. Slick fingers caressing the little nubs to peaks had him squirming inside his own skin until a sharp pinch made him cry out in surprise.
Mac's cock jumped at the wordless cry and he set out to coax more vocal responses from his normally so-restrained lover. Slowly and carefully he followed the swirls of chocolate with his tongue. By the time he reached the inevitable and much anticipated centre Methos was whimpering almost constantly. Mac treated the tight bud to the softest of kisses as he gently sucked and licked the chocolate away, close enough to hear his lover's pounding heartbeat. The light stimulation of the over-sensitised flesh left Methos choking for air, only able to draw a decent breath when Mac finally released him. ...Only to start all over again on the other side.
This was it, 5,000 years of survival only to meet his end at the hands ...and mouth of this Scottish child. If there were another way for an Immortal to die besides decapitation this had to be it. Who would have guessed that the Highlander had the power to reduce the World's Oldest Immortal to a mass of over-sensitised, chocolate-covered nerve-endings? What did he want? Did he want him to beg? Methos could do begging ...if the Highlander would just pause long enough for him to regain some sort of higher brain function. Right now he couldn't even say ...well, anything really. And if this went on much longer he'd probably never speak again.
Then the tormenting mouth was gone. No! He didn't want it to actually *stop*. But the panic was short-lived and Methos moaned with pleasure and relief as the sensation of lips and tongue against his skin returned. Lower down.
Mac was getting desperate; single-mindedness was all well and good, but what he really wanted, right now, was to come. Who would have believed the World's Oldest pain in the ass could be such an erotic creature? Every little moan, gasp and whimper shivered molten need through his body to pool in his groin. His lover's lithe body glistened with sweat and trembled lightly beneath him with every brush of his lips. The light friction of Methos' engorged cock as it rubbed gently against his body caused almost painful echoes in his own. But much as he wanted to just let go, he wanted to see Methos come first; to watch his lover at his most open, most beautiful and for that he could hang on just a little bit longer.
"Mac..." the breathless whisper almost wrecked his good intentions. Methos appeared to have regained control of his vocal chords. "Mac, Duncan, please..." Incapable of denying the plea in that tone, Duncan dropped his head to Methos' stomach and began to work on the last remaining pool of chocolate. The words sank into incomprehensibility at the first touch of his lips then resolved into words again; his name breathed in a litany of desire. "Duncan, Duncan, Duncan..." Pushing his own limits Mac couldn't help but respond, plunging his tongue into the hollow of Methos' navel, mimicking other less innocent actions. He nipped, nibbled and lapped around the indentation, tasting chocolate and hot, salty skin.
Senses filled with the touch, taste and sound of his lover Mac found it quite impossible to go as slowly as he had planned, not that Methos seemed to mind. Mac rested both hands on Methos' abdomen, feeling the muscles tremble faintly beneath his touch. Then he fanned his fingers, tracing the ridges of muscle, painting the contours with sticky fingers. Mac raised his head to see his lover's flushed face and slid his hands down and out to the narrow hips. He paused there until he was quite certain he had his lover's undivided attention. When Methos' eyes finally opened to meet his own, he let his fingers trail lightly onward and inward following the pelvic bone, then feathered them up the length of his lover's quivering cock. The lightest of touches, barely perceptible were Methos not so attuned to his touch, moving slowly upward over the sensitive head until they finally lost contact.
Methos' cry of loss transformed into one of helpless pleasure, as Mac abruptly dropped his head and swallowed him whole. It was too much. Sensory overload. Methos' control shattered and he tangled his fingers in his lover's hair, tugging in time as he began to thrust helplessly into that exquisite, wet warmth.
Mac began to stroke up and down, tracing quick patterns along the length of the shaft with his tongue, knowing Methos couldn't last much longer. He felt Methos' hands tighten their grip and increased the suction, taking his lover as deeply as he could. Once. Twice. For a flat second Methos went absolutely still, eyes wide and vulnerable. Then he came, body arching upward, straining to get further inside the welcoming haven of his lover's mouth as Duncan swallowed around him.
Duncan drank in the evidence of his lover's pleasure gladly; his own need forgotten as he witnessed his lover's ecstasy. He held Methos tightly as he continued to writhe against him until slowly, gradually, the movement calmed and Methos relaxed in his arms. Mac released his lover and shifted to lie with his head on Methos' hip. He dropped a light kiss on his lover's spent cock and closed his eyes in utter contentment.
The light touch of slender fingers combing through his hair roused Mac enough to make him raise his head. The effort required to do so was amply rewarded by the tender smile on his lover's face. Methos happy was a sight to be treasured; the open expression one to be hoarded in the vaults of his memory for the next time they parted ways. Mac simply had to return that smile. He reached up and softly traced his lover's lips with a fingertip, leaving behind the faintest hint of chocolate. The smile became a grin and Methos suddenly sucked the exploring digit into his mouth. Mac groaned as his forgotten erection throbbed in time to the gentle suction on his finger. Then the finger was released and Mac was unceremoniously hauled up the length of his lover's body for a deep, languorous kiss.
Duncan tasted of chocolate and Methos and love. Smiling, Methos decided it was time to treat the Highlander to a little appreciative expertise. When he finally let his lover go he had to smile at the Highlander's slightly dazed expression. "Not *quite* what I had in mind for this evening, but..." He grinned and glanced up at the counter and all the dishes that had never made it to the table. "I hope you haven't ruined your appetite after I went to all that effort to make dinner," he mock-scolded.
Mac returned the grin. "Nope. In fact, I think I can safely say that my appetite is quite unaffected." Duncan pressed his hot, aching cock against his lover.
Methos drew in a quick breath. "Oh. Good." And he reached for the chocolate bowl...
Finis.