The heat was a living breathing entity, a heavy, sodden wool blanket that hung over everything and made everything under it languid and slow. Methos loved every humid, sweat-soaked, frangipani-scented minute of it. He lay on the rattan chaise in the courtyard of the condo and let the heat melt him into bonelessness. Christmas in the tropics had been a particularly inspired idea. And there was why... Methos watched from beneath the shadows of his eyelashes as Duncan opened the gate that led from the courtyard to the beach and strode on in, still glistening from his swim.

Oh yeah, those speedos had been just the right Christmas gift--utterly perfect on Duncan's perfect body. Methos couldn't help the wolfish grin that spread across his face as he watched Duncan's barefoot passage across the courtyard grass. The way his hair sprang up into curls around his neck as it dried, the slip of muscles under his skin, and gods above and below, that skin -- smooth and golden and tasting right now like the ocean. And he's all mine...

"Good swim?" Methos began as Duncan came closer, close enough to see the outline of Duncan's cock in relief under the black spandex. Oh yeah...this was such a good idea...

"Yeah, not bad," Duncan answered, "it would have been better if you'd bothered to join me." His eyes alighted on the open box of chocolates sitting on the small table at Methos' side. "Those from who I think they're from?"

Methos grinned, "Yeah, she sent them for Christmas and she made me promise I'd share them with you. Want one? They're Belgian." and he wiggled the box at Duncan temptingly.

Duncan sank into the chaise that was the twin of Methos'. "Seashells?"

"Of course. Is there any other kind?"

Duncan wrinkled his nose. "Nahh... Maybe later." and he leaned back and closed his eyes against the reflected glare under the shade of the pergola.

Methos, not pleased to be ignored, unfolded himself from his chaise and, still holding the box of chocolate seashells, went and perched on the edge of Duncan's chair, facing him. He waved the box under Duncan's nose letting the delicate scent drift up to tease his lover's nose.

Eyes of black-fringed amber flicked open to meet his. Duncan smiled slowly, knowingly. "What are you up to, Methos? Trying to tempt me?"

"You know I am. Is it working yet?"

Methos felt the heat of Duncan's gaze rake over him as the Scot took his time answering. Finally he said, "Maybe..."

Methos went to pick up one of the small chocolate shapes and his fingers sank messily into the half-melted goo. Even better. "Oh I think I can," Methos murmured as he brought his chocolate-coated fingertips to Duncan's lips and traced their shape in molten sweetness. The lips parted at his touch and Methos slipped two of his fingers between them into the wet heat of Duncan's mouth.

At the first sucking pull of Duncan's mouth, Methos was achingly, blindingly erect. A helpless moan escaped his throat as Duncan's tongue laved every last smear of chocolate from his fingers. With a wet, popping sound, Duncan let the fingers go free. Duncan's eyes were open again, locked on his and Methos could not look away, but leaned in close and softly, delicately licked away the remaining sweetness from his lover's lips.

The tip of his tongue flickered lightly over Duncan's full bottom lip, it was so firm and soft all at once Methos couldn't help but sink his teeth into it, just a little. The tiny groan that filtered out from the depths of the kiss sent snaking tendrils of heat slithering down Methos' spine to pool at his groin.

Impossible not to want more. Methos pressed closer, claiming the lushness for his own, tasting traces of sweetness, chocolate and Duncan both. Addictively sweet, sinfully habit-forming, kissing this man. Methos swallowed the younger man's moans as his tongue tickled across the roof of Duncan's mouth.

The kiss went on for spine-melting, brain-addling minutes -- tongues, lips, teeth sucking, bruising, duelling -- so much unsaid within the kiss, so much intensity and at the same time they broke apart, gasping for breath. Methos looked into his lover's eyes; dilated and unfocused as Duncan fought for control, clearly every bit as aroused as Methos. The younger man's hand shook as he pushed the salt-matted tangle of his hair away from his face.

"Gods, you're beautiful like that," Methos whispered close by Duncan's ear. "I love the way just kissing you can make you pant and tremble, the way you respond when I touch you. You're close even now, aren't you? I bet I could make you come right here without even touching your cock."

"You're welcome to try," Duncan challenged in a low voice suddenly rough at the edges.

Methos smiled slowly, possessively. He leaned in to kiss Duncan again as he dipped a thumb into the melted chocolate and with a tender circling motion coated first one of Duncan's nipples, then the other. He felt Duncan's mouth go slack as he absorbed the touch, and Methos pulled away a fraction, his eyes searching Duncan's face. He could see the effort restraint was costing his lover as Duncan twitched under his fingertips. The small nubs tightened, grew hard under his touch and Methos lowered his mouth to one at last, tasting it gently.

He tasted the sweet smoothness of the chocolate and beneath it the salty tang of ocean and skin. Duncan's head dropped back and his spine arched, pressing himself into the touch. Methos sucked the tiny nipple into his mouth rhythmically over and over, feeling Duncan's breath quicken as Methos' teeth scraped tender flesh. Large warm hands slid over the sweat-slicked skin of Methos' back, rubbing random circles along the length of his spine. Methos sucked harder at the nub in his mouth, feeling Duncan begin to shift restlessly beneath him. Methos' hand stole up to tease at the other nipple, gently grazing it with his nails and rolling it in his fingertips.

Duncan moaned raggedly. His legs writhed along the chaise, trying to tilt his pelvis enough to rub his cock against his lover's hip as Methos leaned across him. Methos felt Duncan's desperation growing with every gasp of breath. Whose idea was this ridiculous challenge anyway? Oh yeah. Definitely time for more chocolate. Methos dipped a long finger into what had once been the swirl of a seashell and painted a meandering stripe down the side of Duncan's neck. The box slid to the ground, unremarked.

He followed the stripe with the point of his tongue, infinitesimally small licks, thoroughly removing every trace from a few millimeters then moving on to the next. It took him a long, long time to reach the end of the sweet path. Methos felt the pulse under his lips race and pound. Duncan's hands clutched at the skin of Methos' back, uncoordinated and needy.

"I want you," Duncan breathed as he arched his neck again into Methos' touch. "Please Methos, this is silly. Don't make us wait."

Methos smiled wickedly as he lifted his head to look once more into Duncan's eyes. They were almost entirely black now, bottomless pools of need. "I think you can wait a little longer," he teased.

Duncan's arms tightened quickly around his lover, pulling Methos close and capturing his mouth. Methos could still taste the faint remnants of sweetness around the margins as his tongue flickered hotly over Duncan's mouth. Gods he wanted this man, he wanted to strip that ridiculous swimsuit from his hips and bury himself balls-deep in all that sweet, golden heat, pound into his lover until they came screaming one another's name, then hold him close as the shudders subsided and the tension melted into sleepy relaxation. He wasn't a greedy man, really.

And Duncan wasn't the only one in danger of coming without his cock being involved in any way, Methos realized. His own arousal was a sharp spiked thing prickling over his skin and into his brain. Kissing Duncan was such an intensely carnal experience. That sensual mouth was made for this, pleasure -- pure pleasure. Or impure?

Methos sucked hard on Duncan's tongue as it made a darting foray into his mouth and felt the bone-deep shudder ripple through Duncan's body.

Duncan's head tipped back as he broke the kiss, moaning, "Methos please... I don't care, just finish it... I need you."

By way of an answer Methos angled his head so he could reach the velvety lobe of Duncan's ear. He drew it into his mouth and sucked it, teasing it with his tongue, then without warning bit into it -- hard.

It was enough to send Duncan over the edge. He cried out sharply and his hips bucked once. His head snapped back against the back of the chair and his face took on that blissful sweetness that Methos knew so well.

"I love to watch you come," Methos murmured as his hands smoothed and gentled Duncan's trembling body. "The look on your face is so unbelievable -- it only makes me want to make you come again and again, just so I can see it." He moved at last to lie beside his lover, encouraging him to lift his hips to allow the worse-for-wear speedos to be removed.

Duncan's cock lay against his thigh shining with the remains of his orgasm, flaccid but still long and thick, waiting for a touch to bring it to life again. Methos wriggled out of his shorts and tossed them aside then turned to press against his lover's body. Methos felt control growing tenuous as the feel of silken skin against his threatened to overwhelm him.

He stretched out along Duncan's side, a shiver running hotly through his body as his cock pressed against Duncan's hip. Fire licked at his groin, flamed along his synapses, melted his brain until his thought-processes consisted of only one thing -- the need to be inside Duncan now. A thin film of sweat slipped between them as the lovers grappled on the narrow lounge, making them slither and slide against one another.

He ran greedy hands over Duncan's sun-warmed skin, skimming over the hair-dusted chest, down over the ridged stomach muscles and through the cooling pool of ejaculate around Duncan's groin. Methos slipped his fingers through the fluid and continued on down, snickering faintly as the touch of his hand to Duncan's sensitive flesh elicited a helpless, groaning shudder. Duncan spread his thighs as Methos' fingers trailed lower.

"That's right," Methos whispered, "open up and let me touch you. So hot..." One long finger slid inside Duncan's body. "So tight..." Methos added another finger, urgent now in his need.

Duncan's shaft filled and grew dark with the blood pounding through his system. He sighed as Methos' fingers slithered into him, arching down onto the hand as fingertips brushed the small gland inside. Needy, wordless, encouraging sounds spilled from Duncan's lips and Methos caught them with his own. The heat, the heat was everywhere -- around him, in him, beneath him in this incandescently beautiful man writhing in ecstasy. The whole world was in meltdown and Methos abandoned himself to it, let himself melt into the sweet, molten chocolate tropical afternoon and become one with it.

"Gonna fuck you now..." Methos breathed softly as he settled himself between Duncan's legs.

"Yes."

Methos' eyes locked on Duncan's, saw them widen at the first invading press of Methos' cock against the puckered muscle, watched the ecstasy spread across Duncan's face as he pushed fully inside.

***

Duncan's breath hissed between his teeth as Methos' length filled him, stretched him, made them one creature -- their hearts throbbing in unison. He was on fire, burning from the core outwards. He loved to let go like this -- let Methos call the shots so all he had to do was react and respond to every perfectly placed touch, every exquisite kiss. It was as if he was molten steel and Methos the furnace when they were together this way.

Then Methos began to move with in him and whatever heat Duncan had felt before was multiplied a hundred times by the sensation of Methos' cock slipping in and out of him, their skins slipping silkily together. His whole world was concentrated in this place, the steady rocking of his lover's hips as Methos surged into him again and again, the sharp sting as Methos' teeth found the tender skin over Duncan's collarbone and the bruising suction as Methos mouth drew the skin inside, leaving his mark on it.

Methos always called him beautiful -- if only he could see himself as Duncan saw him now. It was mesmerizing, hypnotizing to be the subject of all that focused attention, every fiber of Methos' being concentrated on bringing the maximum pleasure to them both. Duncan luxuriated in it, let himself be swept away by its power. Need burned him, urgency flamed at his soul, desire melted away all the sharp places inside him until he was smooth and molten, ebbing and flowing like a volcanic lake.

And then just when he thought nothing could be any hotter, or sweeter, Methos clutched hard at Duncan's shoulders as he spilled himself deep inside. The scalding splash in his core seared him, tipped Duncan over the edge into oblivion, the orgasm spasming through him with a force that left him stunned. The world went dark at the edges, tilting crazily, dizzying him until his head spun.

Afterwards Duncan's arms held their sweat-sticky bodies together he stroked Methos' smooth chest, tanned light gold by their long holiday in the sun, both too limp and languorous to move. After a while Duncan's mood turned serious, a little melancholy in the aftermath of such an outburst of passion; he frowned slightly and asked, "How is it you can do that after so long? Still let yourself go like that? Make me feel as if there's no one else in the world but you and me? You must have had thousands of other lovers in your lifetime."

Without thinking Methos answered, "Because when I look into your eyes, when I make love with you -- you are all I see -- you are all there is in the whole world. Nothing before you, nothing after you. Just you and me and this moment in time. And with a lot of luck, before you know it, all these moments in time will join up into forever."

**The End**

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