Disclaimer: Children, what are you doing in here? Get out of here! It features angst and entertaining graphic descriptions of men doing sexual things with each other. If you don’t like that sort of stuff, or know you are too young for it, I fully respect and support your decision not to read this. Oh, and I don’t own any of these characters. I’m just borrowing them for a little storytelling. They are all owned by Rysher, and the rest of the people with the money. I don’t have any. I do, however, have an overactive sexual imagination and a good grasp of how to drive a plot home. Oh, dear, that didn’t come out quite right . . . oh, who cares?
Comments go to author by clicking on name above.
She was a ghost. Duncan knew that without asking. A hallucination, a phantasm, unreal. It was, in fact, the ghost of his dead love, Tessa.
“How can you trust him, my love?” she purred softly.
Duncan sat up, to face her. “How can I not? He’s part of me, as much a part of me as you are.”
“But he’ll never learn to trust you, never,” she warned. “But he’ll understand if you leave. He expects it, in fact. And what he has done to you today, he will do over and over again.”
“Nć,” answered Duncan wryly. “He’ll not. He’ll try something different, find some new way to hurt me, to drive me off. But he won’t leave me again.”
“He cannot love you, Duncan,” the ghost pleaded. “Fear is all he knows. He will not love you.”
At that, Duncan smiled at the manifestation of his own fears. “But he has me to teach him. I will make him love me. I will make him trust me.”
“Or you will die trying?”
“Aye,” whispered Duncan.
The ghost faded away. Duncan lay down again, wrapping himself around Methos.
“I love you, Methos.”
Methos stretched lazily in his sleep, and snuggled closer to Duncan.
“Are you awake?” said Duncan curiously.
“No,” answered Methos. “Why? Did you want to have sex again?”
“I just wanted to talk.”
Methos opened his eyes and looked up at Duncan. “Kiss me first.”
Duncan complied, and let Methos ravage his mouth. Methos’ hands began to wander, stroking Duncan to a ready hardness before he slid down his lover’s body, leaving a trail of desperate kisses on Duncan’s chest and torso on his way down to Duncan’s thick cock.
“Methos,” Duncan tried to protest, but five thousand years of experience with sex make a convincing argument, and Duncan let himself be swept away by Methos’ mouth on his cock. At least Methos just wanted a quick suck, not a long, drawn-out session of torture and teaching. Methos sucked Duncan steadily and firmly, using a fierce rhythm that would make Duncan come quickly. Duncan groaned, and Methos added the stimulation of his hands, stroking Duncan’s taut buttocks, but never entering him. Methos shifted slightly, holding Duncan’s cock tightly so that he could lick up and down the sides, sucking fiercely along the large blue vein on the underside of his lover’s penis. Still massaging Duncan’s anus, Methos lowered his head to take Duncan’s balls into his mouth. Duncan gasped, and Methos quickly returned to Duncan’s cock, sinking the whole length of it into his throat in time to drink every drop of Duncan’s come.
Satisfied, Methos sat back on his heels and gazed steadily at his lover. “So, what did you want to talk about?”
Duncan rearranged himself so that his head was in Methos’ lap. “What happens next?”
Methos shrugged. “I don’t really know. What do you want to do?”
“I want you to move in, for real. I want you to take that job teaching at the university. I want to have a dinner party so that you can meet all of my friends, and I can meet yours.”
As Duncan spoke, Methos had been playing with Duncan’s hair, and now his fingers were tangled in the thick brown curls. “The Watchers aren’t going to like that. Unless you want me to tell them I’m Immortal, as well.”
Duncan shook his head. “No, let them find out on their own. And Joe will find some way to smooth it over. If he doesn’t, I’ll deal with the Watchers.”
Methos smiled, and then laughed.
“What?” demanded Duncan.
“I just imagined you giving those old farts a good talking to.” Methos smiled down at Duncan. “And what about my enemies? Do you want them to come over for dinner too?”
Duncan smiled back. “I promise not to kill anyone at the dinner table. That would be rude.”
“Basically, Duncan, you want me to set up house with you?”
Duncan nodded, as best he could, given his position.
Methos shook his head in mock pity. “You’re insane.”
“But you love me anyway,” said Duncan half-questioning.
Methos bent down to kiss his lover. “Yes.”
Duncan returned the kiss, and the two lost time in the power of their embrace.
Duncan grinned at Joe’s choice of words. “I wouldn’t say that,” he grinned.
Joe blinked, then grimaced at the unintended double entendre. “It’s just that...” Joe looked around the bar quickly, then leaned forward, whispering, despite the dearth of patrons in the bar. “He’s so old! What if he’s just using you?”
Duncan looked sharply at Joe. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what if this is all some sort of plan? You know, to get the unbeatable MacLeod off guard?”
A dangerous fire lit Duncan’s eyes. “I really don’t think that the case, Joe.”
Joe realized that he’d said something wrong, and backed off. “I’m just saying you should watch your back, that’s all.”
“That’s not how love works,” said Duncan flatly. “Either I trust him or I don’t. And I do, no matter what it costs me.”
“Even if you lose your head?”
“I’ve already lost my heart,” whispered Duncan. “What difference would that make?”
Joe sighed. “If you’re sure, then, I guess I’m happy for you. You deserve to be happy, Mac.”
“Thanks.” Duncan smiled. “It’s a nice feeling, being happy again. It’s been a while.”
Richie ran outside.
Duncan started to go after him, and turned to glance at Methos. Methos waved him on. “I’m sorry, Methos,” he apologized. “Richie! Richie!”
Duncan caught up with his student just outside the glass doors.
“What the hell are you doing with him?” hissed Richie angrily. “Huh? Are you fucking out of your mind?”
“Not here,” snarled Duncan, trying to grab Richie’s arm, but the younger man roughly twisted away.
“Not anywhere,” he snapped. “I don’t wanna hear your excuses, Mac. You want him, you can keep him. Just don’t expect me to like it.” With that, Richie turned and walked away.
Duncan walked slowly back into the supermarket, and found Methos idly playing with some scallions in the vegetable aisle.
“I take it he doesn’t approve,” said Methos gently.
“I knew he didn’t like you, but I didn’t think he’d take it this badly.” Duncan sighed.
“Have you considered that he might be jealous?”
Duncan looked surprised. “No, I hadn’t.”
“I had,” said Methos, and started trailing the leafy tufts in a hypnotic pattern over his palm. “And if he is, I don’t give a shit. He missed his chance, and it’s too late now.”
Duncan raised an eyebrow. “You mean that?”
“For now.” Methos quickly kissed Duncan on the cheek before finally putting the scallions into a bag. “If I change my mind, trust me, you’ll be the first to know.”
“I’m starting to be envious of vegetables. I think we have to go now.”
Methos smiled. “You have no idea,” he whispered so low Duncan almost missed it.
The drive home was quiet and pleasant, and somewhere along the way, Methos realized that was really where he was going: home. When they got out of the car, he reached out, and took Duncan’s hand. Duncan looked at him curiously, but Methos just smiled, and they carried their groceries inside without talking.
Once they were in the loft, Methos grabbed Duncan, and kissed him so deeply, Duncan could feel his toes tingle. They both felt it at the same time, that sharp electric rush that signaled the presence of another Immortal.
“Richie?” said Duncan into the darkness, as Methos went for the lights.
“What’s the matter, MacLeod, isn’t there room for women in your life anymore?” drawled Amanda from the living room couch.
“Oh, you,” said Duncan in mock disgust. “You broke into my house, Amanda. I thought I asked you not to do that anymore.”
“Well, I ran into Richie, who’s distraught, by the way, and he told me this wild story. I just had to come see if it were true,” she explained.
“Excuse me,” said Methos icily, and practically ran to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
“Out,” said Duncan pointedly. “We weren’t expecting visitors, and we don’t want any.”
Amanda raised an eyebrow. “Oh, it’s ‘we,’ now, is it?”
Duncan helped her up, and walked her to the door. “Next time, call first.”
“But Duncan-” He gently closed the door in her face, and walked back to the bedroom to see if Methos was all right.
“I am angry with you,” Methos growled. “I told you to leave that village alone.”
Kronos abased himself, and crawled up to Methos’ boots. “Oh, forgive me, my lord. I just couldn’t wait.”
Methos sneered at the mockery, and turned away with an angry snarl. “Forget it, Kronos. It wasn’t important.”
Kronos bent his head and began licking Methos’ boots. “Forgive me. I was wrong to disobey you.”
Methos looked down at his war-companion. “What are you doing? Stop that.”
“I did it because I was jealous,” whispered Kronos, still seriously working over Methos’ boots with his tongue. “When I saw the way you looked at that girl, I couldn’t control myself.”
Methos reached down, and grabbed Kronos by the hair, pulling him up. “Jealous?” he demanded.
“You should never look at anyone but me like that,” Kronos insisted.
Methos was stunned. He’d had no clue that his friend felt this way.
“Methos?” Duncan stared at his lover, who was standing in the bathroom, staring into the mirror, but clearly seeing something other than his reflection. On hearing his name, Methos started, and turned away from the mirror. He brought his hand up to his mouth, as if expecting to find something on his lips.
Methos shook his head quickly, and rinsed his mouth out at the sink. He could still sense the taste of Kronos’ lips on his, stained with blood and sweat and come.
“Are you all right?” asked Duncan.
Methos felt a wave of hot desire rush over him, the burning ache that only Kronos could satisfy. “I’m angry,” said Methos softly, hugging himself tightly. “I think I should sleep alone tonight.”
Duncan’s face fell. “I’d rather you didn’t. Are you angry at me?”
“No.” He couldn’t believe he was craving the pain that loving Kronos always brought. No, not the pain, he realized. The release. “I just need to be alone for a while.”
Duncan nodded.
Methos undressed, and sat by the window, staring out into the darkness. Duncan pulled on a pair of sweats and worked out for a little while before coming back, to watch Methos.
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
“I’ve forgotten what it’s like to need someone’s approval. I really want your friends to like me, and I’m angry with them for judging me.”
“Methos, it’s not like that-”
“It hurt. And I wanted to hurt someone, or be hurt. But I won’t ask you to do that for me.”
Duncan moved closer. “Why not?”
“I like you the way you are.”
“But if that’s what you need...” Duncan let his offer fade away as Methos finally turned to face him.
“No, Duncan. You’re what I need.” He leaned in to Duncan’s kiss, and the two stood and made their way clumsily to the bed. Methos could still feel the spectre of Kronos in the room, hovering over his shoulder. He pulled away from Duncan’s kisses. “I need to sleep, my love.”
Duncan could feel Methos trembling in his arms. “As you will.” He let Methos make himself comfortable, and spooned himself around Methos.
As if he was right there, kneeling on the bed over him, Methos could hear his dark love whisper: “No one but me.” Methos closed his eyes tightly, and concentrated on Duncan’s warmth until he fell asleep.
Moves on to: Raining