PAIRING: Duncan/Methos
RATING: NC-17
SERIES/SEQUEL: Oh NO!
DISCLAIMER: Not my characters - no copyright infringement intended
NOTES: Originally published in Chronicles of the Heart 2
SUMMARY: "You mean you're not hot and bothered now?"  Duncan sounded almost offended.
 

* * * * * * *

"Don't stop," MacLeod said.

"Oh, yes - there," Richie offered.

"Fuck me harder."

Three pairs of eyes swiveled to concentrate on him in surprise.

"But, women don't say that, Methos," Mac protested.

"I've sure never heard that from any woman," Richie chimed in.

Joe declined to make a comment.

Methos raised one eyebrow sardonically.  "Well, you never *told* me we were restricted to women, MacLeod.  You said, and I quote: 'What are the words that turn you on most in bed?'."  Methos looked to Joe for support.  "Am I not correct, Joseph?  That *is* what he said, isn't it?"

"Yep," Joe confirmed cheerfully.  "That's what he said, all right."

"But... but..." Mac sputtered.

"That's disgusting!" Richie muttered.

Methos turned a glare on the young Immortal.  "Come back and talk to me in a thousand years, kid.  By then you *might* have gained a modicum of maturity."

"You mean I'll be so senile I won't care about the gender of my bedpartners?" Richie sneered.

"No, I *mean* you might have learned that love and lust are not gender exclusive.  That different doesn't mean wrong.  That the male body is sexy as hell."

"Well," Richie preened, "I've been told that my body is sexy as hell, old man.  Recently.  How about you, oh ancient and wise one, when's the last time anyone said you were sexy?"

"Last night."  Methos made the announcement in a matter of fact tone.

"What?"  Mac sat up straight in his chair - no easy trick in his inebriated state - and glared at Methos suspiciously.  "You stayed at my place last night, remember?  *I* sure as hell didn't say anything of the kind."

Methos shrugged carelessly.  "You fell asleep early, MacLeod.  I went out."

"Oh?"  Obviously, Mac was fishing for information but didn't want to make it too blatant.

"Yes, I did.  But don't worry, Dad.  I was home well before dawn."

"Where did you go?"  Unsatisfied with his first paltry catch, Mac continued to dangle his line in the water.

"The Wolf."

Richie pushed himself to his feet.  "I," he announced with drunken dignity, "am outa here - I do *not* want to hear about your sick exploits in the most notorious gay bar in Seacouver."

So saying, he wove an unsteady path to the door.  Joe sighed and grabbed his crutches, intending to go unlock the door and let Richie out of the bar.

"Here," Methos held out one hand,  "I'll do it - you stay put, Joe.  In your condition, those sticks could be lethal - to you, of course... we'd all recover quite nicely if you, er, were to *accidentally* impale us with one of them."

His ingrained pride and independence almost had Joe refusing the offer.   Then, he reconsidered.  Dammit, the old man was probably right.  The three of them had been sitting here drinking for hours.  Shit - the bar had closed at 2am; it was now 4.30.  Realizing that he was completely and totally wasted, Joe sighed and bowed to Methos' better judgment.  He handed over the keys, and settled back to watch.

This should prove quite... entertaining.

Sure enough, Methos made sure he brushed up against Richie several times in the process of opening the door for the kid.  Then, to Joe's vast amusement, just as Richie was rushing out the door, Methos grabbed him and pulled him into a hearty embrace.

"When you're ready to explore extreme possibilities, just give me a call," Methos told the younger Immortal.  "I'll be waiting."

Not bothering to answer, Richie jerked free of Methos' arms and practically ran out the door.

Proud of himself for controlling his hysterical reaction to Methos' teasing, Joe grinned and looked at the oldest Immortal.  "You really shouldn't have done that, Methos.  Poor Rich will probably never recover from the shock."

"That was the whole idea, Joe," Methos said with a definite gleam of mischief in his eyes.  "That young man has a lot to learn - time his education started."

MacLeod, who'd been silently watching the scene, was still attempting - unsuccessfully - to wrap his mind around Methos - *Methos* - with another man.  Last night, for god's sake!

He couldn't believe it.

Not Methos.

It had all been a joke - a way of getting under Richie's skin.  Yes, he decided, that was it - all a joke.

"Very funny, Methos," Mac said disapprovingly.  "Why do you insist on teasing Rich?  He's just a kid.  It's not fair."

"Fair?"  Methos, repeated with a sneer.  "Fair is for fools and children, Highlander.  It doesn't exist in the real world.  Surely you've learned that by now."

"Still,"  MacLeod protested,  "telling him that you... that you swing both ways - C'mon, Methos, wasn't that a bit much?"

"It was only the truth, MacLeod.  Only the truth."

Mac's eyes widened and his mouth fell open in shock.  "You mean... it's true? You really do... You know."

"Of course I do, don't you?"  Methos settled back into his chair, managing to scoot it a bit closer to Mac's in the process.  "Surely with the life you've led - all those wars, looong periods of time with only men for company... You must have-"

Mac blushed.  "That's different, Methos."

"Oh?"  Brows raised in skeptical inquiry, Methos held Mac's eyes by force of will.  "How different, Mac?  Fucking a man - or being fucked - is no different on or off the campaign trail.  Except, of course, that one doesn't have to be so damned quiet when at home."

"I never... I mean, my encounters with men were just a matter of mutual relief... jacking off together - you know."

Methos nodded sagely.  "In other words," he teased,  "you're afraid to try anything further.  Well, I guess that's not so surprising - considering your upbringing."

Bristling at the perceived slight to his background, Mac bristled.  "What about my upbringing?"

Joe grinned widely and settled in for an always-enjoyable session of watching Methos run verbal circles around Mac.  He did so enjoy watching the old man take Mac down a peg or two.

"Oh, nothing, Mac," Methos soothed; patent insincerity oozing from his words and tone.  "Nothing at all.  Everyone knows how very tolerant of homosexual behavior the Highland Clans were in those days.  I'm sure your Father told you that sexual preference was a personal choice and that he'd love you even if you were a... deviant."

"Fuck you, Methos."

"Actually," Methos drawled, "I prefer to *do* the fucking, Mac.  But, under the right circumstances, I can be persuaded to be the fuckee."

"What kind of circumstances would those be?"  Mac asked, then looked absolutely horrified that he'd actually asked the question.

"Well..." Closing his eyes, Methos smirked as he slouched down in his chair.  Somehow, in the process of slouching, he'd managed to press his thigh up against MacLeod's.  "Let's see - say, I want a man who is obviously a top - If I want him badly enough, I'm willing to take the bottom position.  And, of course, with a virgin, it's always easiest to let them fuck you first - give them visual reassurance that it *does* feel..." he sighed in reminiscence,   "Gods, it feels like nothing else in the world."

Mac's eyes narrowed as he gave Methos a skeptical look.  "If it's so great - why do you prefer to be ... on top?"

"Oh, Mac - please don't tell me you've never tried anal sex."

Another blush.  "Well - I did once.  She didn't seem to like it much."

"Ah, but, Mac, how did *you* like it?"  Methos voice lowered and took on a husky note.

Joe had to stifle a chuckle.  This was too much fun!

Staring fixedly at the tabletop, MacLeod murmured, "It was different - from the other way, I mean."

"Tighter?"

Mac nodded.

"Hotter?"

Clearing his throat, MacLeod looked to Joe for help.

"Hey, don't look at me, Mac.  I'm with Methos on this one.  He's absolutely right - it's like nothing else in the world."

Doubly stunned - how the hell had he *not* known this about his two closest friends - Mac fidgeted in his chair under the expectant gazes of the two men. Unfortunately, this only resulted in pressing his thigh more firmly against Methos' well-muscled leg.

"But," Mac frowned, confused, "Tessa hated it - we only did it the once.   She let me know in no uncertain terms that we'd never do it again.  Why... how... Is it different for men?"

Methos adopted his "serious professor" face.  "The human male has a little gland called the prostate, Mac.  Ever heard of it?"

"Of course I have."

"Okay, when someone stimulates that lovely little spot... well, some men can come from that alone."

Mac looked skeptical.

"He's telling you the truth, Mac," Joe said firmly.  "It's like sparks shooting through your entire body when the prostate is stroked.  An amazing feeling."  Joe smiled in fond reminiscence.  "Absolutely amazing."

Still unconvinced, Mac shook his head.  "I'm not so sure I believe you.   Wouldn't I know that by now - after so many years?"

Methos snorted.  "Not if you've never let anyone into that gorgeous ass of yours."

Joe chuckled.  Yep - no doubts there... Mac did have one of the best asses he'd ever seen - and as he considered himself somewhat of an expert on that particular part of the human anatomy, he put great faith in his own opinion on the subject.

Blushing furiously in a combination of embarrassment and curiosity, Mac took refuge in a long swallow of his scotch.  Then, Methos' assessment of his ass finally registered.

"Gorgeous?" he repeated.  Did Methos really think he was gorgeous... did the old man actually *want* him?

Oh my.

"Definitely gorgeous, Highlander.  It's one of your best features."

Swallowing heavily, Mac considered the implications.

"Does that mean," he asked hesitantly, "that you want me?"

"Absolutely," Methos answered promptly.  "Always have."

The words sent a jolt of arousal through MacLeod's body.  His cock hardened and his breathing quickened.

Gotcha, Methos crowed inwardly.

"Listen, Mac... if you ever want a demonstration..."

Pupils widened until only the barest ring of brown was visible in Mac's eyes. "Um... er..." His gaze shot over to Joe for a second, then returned to meet Methos' suddenly mesmerizing gaze.  "I think we should go home now, Methos.   It's late; we're tired; Joe needs his sleep-"

Rising to his feet, Mac donned his coat.  "C'mon, we can walk to my place from here - neither of us should be driving tonight."

With a wink in Joe's direction, Methos gracefully gained his feet.  "If you're sure it wouldn't be an imposition, Mac."

Joe had to cough to cover the laughter that threatened to break free.  Poor Mac.  He was about to learn things he'd never even dreamed of.

"Oh no," Mac hastened to reassure,  "no problem at all.  I'd just worry about you driving home in your condition - I'll feel better if you come home with me."

You have *no* idea, Mac, Methos thought to himself.

Joe followed them to the door so he could lock up behind them.  Noting the way Mac stayed close to Methos, he smiled.  The Highlander was in for the ride of his life.

With a round of 'goodbyes', Mac and Methos headed up the street, still close enough that their shoulders brushed together.  When Methos casually wrapped one arm around MacLeod's waist and Mac accepted the touch without complaining, Joe snickered.  Oh yeah - finally, it looked as if Methos' patience in waiting for Mac to come around was gonna pay off.

Lucky bastard.

Locking the door, Joe turned and headed into his office.  Now, where was Jamie's number?  An old buddy from 'Nam, Jamie was his on-again, off-again lover and had been for more years than Joe cared to count.  It had been months since they'd gotten together.  Actually, he frowned in thought, closer to a year.

Way too long.

Ah ha - he located the number in his Rolodex.  Picking up the phone, he punched in the number.  Jamie wouldn't mind the middle of the night call.

He wouldn't mind at all.

Methos wouldn't be the only one getting laid this night.

********

The two inebriated Immortals slowly wove their way back to the dojo.  Methos grinned at the way Duncan kept shooting him sideways glances filled with desire, curiosity and fear.

This was going to be too much fun.

Once upstairs in Duncan's loft, Methos poured the Highlander onto the couch and headed into the kitchen.  "I'm going to have a beer, Mac - you want anything?"

After roughly clearing his throat, Duncan answered in a low voice, "No ... I ... yes, I'll have a scotch.  Straight up."

//Liquid courage, eh, Duncan?//

Bearing both drinks, Methos returned to the couch and slumped down, casually placing himself next to Duncan.  Handing over the scotch, Methos smiled and took a long swallow from his beer.  When he looked back at the other man, his breath stuttered - big brown eyes were fixed on his throat.

//You are *mine* Highlander.//

Lifting the long-necked bottle to his lips, Methos took another draught, consciously throwing his head back to show his neck to its best advantage.

MacLeod shifted and coughed.  And stared.

Raising one brow at the Highlander, Methos indicated the untouched drink he still held in one hand.  "You gonna drink that or what, Mac?"

Looking down at the glass of amber liquid as if he couldn't imagine how it had gotten there, Duncan slowly shook his head.  "Ah, I think I've had enough for tonight."  He leaned forward and put it on the coffee table.

When he settled back against the cushions, Methos was ready.  He'd shifted a little closer and laid one arm along the back of the sofa.  Time to get things moving, he decided.

"So, Mac, tell me - in these encounters you mentioned, was there any kissing involved?"

Apparently distracted by the warmth of Methos' arm, which had slipped down to rest across his shoulders, it took a few seconds for Duncan to realize that Methos had spoken.  He frowned in thought - god, Methos loved that frown - and shook his head negatively.

"No, I told you - just mutual jacking off, that kind of thing."

"So, you've never kissed a man?"

Eyes fixed now on Methos' mouth; Duncan simply shook his head again.

"Well, would you like to give it a go?  Start there and see what ... develops?"

"Ahhh..." Duncan swallowed heavily.  "Yeah, that seems like a good place to start,"  he answered nervously.

Methos sighed.  "Listen, Mac, don't do this if you're scared - if you don't really want it.  I won't be offended if you decide against it.  But, tell me now - because I want you very badly and would be quite upset if you suddenly call a halt after I'm all hot and bothered."

"You mean you're not hot and bothered now?"  Duncan sounded almost offended.

A shrug.  "Not yet - but, once I start touching you, I *won't* want to stop."

"Exactly ... um, what precisely do you want to do to me?"

"Not to you, Duncan, with you.  And, I believe I mentioned earlier that I'd be willing to take the bottom position - this first time anyway."  He grinned at the other man.  "What I want is for you to fuck me, MacLeod," he clarified.

A slow tide of red migrated up MacLeod's face.  "Um, I think I'd like that - to be inside of you, Methos.  I think I'd like it a lot."

Carefully, so as not to scare the man, Methos leaned in closer, staring into Duncan's eyes.  Ever so slowly, he pressed the lightest of kisses onto that sensuous mouth.  Nibbling lightly at the softened lips, he was gratified when Duncan's initial hesitation started to ease.  Hesitantly, Duncan started to return the kiss, sighing and relaxing under Methos' expert touch.  His hand rose to grip Methos' nape and he parted his lips a bit, inviting further exploration.

Oh yeah.

Methos accepted the invitation, allowing his tongue to trace the line of Duncan's lips before slipping between them.  I took a great amount of control not to devour that hot, sweet wetness voraciously, but Methos managed it somehow.  Keeping things slow was going to be difficult for him - he so wanted to rip their clothing off and fuck like a madman - but, he'd promised to himself that he would make this good for the Highlander.

He wanted more than one experience with this man.  Gods, he wanted Duncan.  Had waited so very long.  He had to do this right.

Duncan, on the other hand, seemed to have other ideas.  Groaning, he pushed Methos back on the couch and ... damn, how many hands did Duncan have, anyway?  They were everywhere - under his sweater, on his thigh, stroking his neck, and then -

"Oh god, Mac," Methos groaned when one hand descended to cover his erection.  "What are you trying to do to me?"

Confused, MacLeod withdrew his hand and pulled back.  "What?  Am I doing this wrong?"

"No," Methos said definitely.  "Not wrong - I'm just a bit surprised at your sudden enthusiasm."

With an evil grin, Mac waggled his eyebrows.  "Guess you just inspire me, old man."

Groaning again when that warm hand returned to his crotch, Methos arched up into the touch.  "Mac ... I think ... I think the bed would be a better place for this to continue."

With a wide grin, Duncan rose to his feet and pulled Methos along with him.  "An excellent idea,"  he said, heading to the platform bed.

"Um, I need to use the restroom first, Mac."  Unaccountably, Methos found himself blushing at the thought of just what he needed to do in the bathroom.  But, eager as Mac seemed, the mechanics of male sex could be a little daunting the first time, and Methos didn't want anything to distract Duncan from the act.

"Fine," Duncan smiled. "You go ahead ... I'll be waiting."

Jesus!  If Mac kept looking at him like that, smiling at him like that...

Ruthlessly bringing himself under control, Methos went into the bathroom and searched the medicine cabinet for what he needed.  Ah, good old Mac, ever the boy scout - a tube of K-Y Jelly sat on the top shelf.  Methos grabbed it and, after stripping, proceeded to prepare himself.  Satisfied that his asshole was properly lubricated and loosened, he opened the door.

And almost lost it right then and there.

What a sight!  The Highlander had taken the opportunity to undress and was now draped across the bed, one hand languorously stroking his own cock, a definite come-hither expression in his eyes.

Oookay - perhaps he'd overestimated Duncan's shyness and reticence.

Quickly, he crossed to the bed and climbed in alongside MacLeod.  The Highlander immediately rolled towards him, ending up draped along Methos' side.  One hand started a more thorough exploration of the now naked flesh of Methos' chest.  Pinching and rolling his sensitive nipples, Mac leaned in and started chewing on Methos' neck.

"Oh, *fuck*!"

Mac raised his head and grinned.  "I thought that was the whole idea."

"It is, Mac ... it is.  I just didn't think it would be this ... explosive."

"I want you, Methos.  I want you badly."

And Methos' upper brain functions shut down.  He was nothing more than need and desire and desperation.  Pulling Mac over him, he parted his legs and wrapped them around Duncan's waist.

"Fuck me, Mac!"  he demanded.

"Don't we have to ... I mean, with Tessa it took a lot of preparation ... you know?"

"I took care of that, Duncan," Methos assured.  "I'm ready - just do it."

So, with a little help from Methos' guiding hand, Duncan's cock slowly entered him.  And it was ... oh god, it was incredible.  He met those glazed brown eyes and waited for the man to start moving.

And waited some more.

Finally, impatiently, Methos pushed his hips up, encouraging the stunned Highlander.  "C'mon, Mac.  Fuck me."

"I don't think," Duncan gasped, "that this is going to last very long, Methos."  He groaned as Methos tightened his anal muscles around that wonderful hardness filling him so completely.  "I can't ... you're so tight ... so hot ... "

Methos growled.  "*Fuck me* - NOW!"

Tentatively, Mac pulled out halfway and slid back in.

A groan was torn from Methos' throat.  "Harder, Mac.  Fuck me harder."

The words seemed to break through MacLeod's hesitance, and he started a strong thrusting, wringing a myriad of sounds from Methos.  Gasps, groans, and moans quickly escalated into wails of sheer pleasure.

He couldn't get close enough, couldn't hold the Highlander tightly enough.

As he felt the gathering of his orgasm at the base of his spine, Methos pulled Duncan down into a desperate open-mouthed kiss.  He gripped that silky hair so tightly that he just knew it had to hurt - but Mac didn't seem to mind.  Which was a good thing, because right then Methos couldn't have let go to save his life .

And then Mac yelled, his rhythm degenerating into a series of rough thrusts.  Opening his eyes, Methos watched in amazement as pure joy spread over the Highlander's face.  That alone would have brought him over the edge - the constant stream of words, though, did the trick.

"Oh god, Methos ... so good ... christ ... YES!"

And Methos was history.  He came so damned hard he almost lost consciousness.

After several minutes of Duncan's heavy body resting atop him, though, Methos was forced to complain.  "Mac, get off of me - I can't breathe."

"Hmmm?"

"Duncan!"  Methos poked him in the side.  "Move.  You're fucking heavy."

Sluggishly, Mac rolled off of Methos, immediately pulling him into an embrace.  "That was ... damn, Methos, that was beyond description."

Grinning, Methos nodded, hair brushing against Duncan's shoulder.  "Yeah, it was.  And next time, it'll be even better."

Duncan groaned.  "Better?"  he asked incredulously.  "I think better would kill me."

"Well, it might," Methos chuckled.  "But, hey, we *are* Immortal."

"Mmhm, so we are."  With a wide yawn, Duncan put one large hand on Methos head.  "We'll survive."

"Together?"  Methos asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"Together!"  Mac affirmed.  "Now, go to sleep."

With a smile on his face, Methos did just that.
 

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