DISCLAIMER - Highlander and its characters is the copyright of Rysher and Panzer/Davis Productions and no infringement is intended. The story, such as it is, is copyright Karen Colohan June 1999.
Note - I kept hearing this wretched, highly irritating song on the radio and the title just wouldn't leave me alone...
WARNING - Gratuitous and messy chocolate abuse. Many chocolates sacrificed themselves in the making of this story. I'd like to think they ended their existence happily, though! ;-)
With thanks to Margaret for reading and commenting. Sorry for the unfulfilled choccy craving... ;-)
Eeny, meeny... Hm, blackcurrant fondant? Strawberry creme? Choices, choices...
The long, elegant fingers hovered over the large box of expensive chocolates, trying to decide where to begin. Methos gave a frustrated sigh. It really came to something when the most important decision in his life at the moment was the choice of which chocolate he should eat first. The roving digits swooped and plucked a single sweet from the box. Methos brought his prize to his lips and popped it into his mouth.
Orange parfait, yeah, that was a good choice, Methos decided as he chewed slowly and contentedly. Dark chocolate, his favourite, coated the outside and when he bit through that shell there was a sweet, citrusy fondant in the middle. The combination was bitter-sweet... like other things in his life.
Methos slowly licked his lips, searching out the last traces of the orange cream. Damn, this solitary indulgence with the big box of chocolates was supposed to be a distraction, not a reminder! He glanced quickly at the drawings inside the lid, selecting his next target. Grand Marnier truffle sounded good, yeah, something alcoholic was just what the doctor ordered.
The old Immortal merely nibbled at the confection this time and the outer chocolate coating began to melt on his fingertips. Methos sucked his fingers into his mouth, slowly licking them clean. Damn, big mistake, he realised. That particular gesture was much too reminiscent of another, far less innocent, action. Quick, choose another chocolate, something hard and chewy this time - coffee caramel should last a while...
Shit! Every thought suddenly seemed to have sexual overtones. Methos shook his head, his lips quirking wryly. Chocolate as a substitute for sex... Gods, he really was a sad old fool, but what the hell. His body certainly seemed to be getting into the swing of things, so to speak, and there were plenty of chocolates still to be eaten. It wasn't exactly likely that he would be getting what he wanted any other way, either, Methos decided. So, to hell with his pride, a little chocolate induced fantasy it was, then.
Methos settled back more comfortably on the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him. The box of chocolates rested on the cushion next to him. With his eyes closed Methos plucked another sweet from it, taking pot luck. He popped it into his mouth, but didn't bite into the chocolate. Instead he held it on his tongue and let the heat of his mouth slowly melt it, until the taste of coffee burst through. Only then did Methos start to chew.
Coffee, that was evocative, thought Methos. Yeah, it reminded him of sitting in a pavement cafe in Paris. Methos sank a little deeper into the memory as he began to reach for another chocolate almost without thinking. Paris, the barge, Duncan MacLeod...
Damn! Methos realised it had only been a matter of time before his mind got around to pulling up images of the Highlander. After all, wasn't MacLeod the reason why he was stuffing himself with chocolates, in the hope of forgetting just how horny he was feeling? Oh yeah, Duncan MacLeod - the most beautiful, taunting and utterly unattainable presence in his life...
Hurriedly, Methos grabbed another couple of chocolates and shoved them into his mouth. He definitely needed to distract himself from that train of thought! As he chewed the sticky confectionery Methos concentrated on identifying the mingled flavours. He picked out the tart taste of lemon and something else fruity, but sweeter. Hm, the chocolates were really starting to melt. He seemed to have more of the stuff on his hands than in his mouth. Instinctively, Methos licked at his chocolatey fingers, and abruptly felt a jolt of pleasure that went straight to his groin.
Oh yes, all those wonderful chemicals in the chocolate were definitely beginning to work their magic. Substances that could make him feel this good weren't usually legal, Methos thought dreamily. He selected another sweet randomly and deliberately crushed it in his hand. Methos brought his smeared palm up to his mouth and set about licking the gooey mess off his damp skin very slowly. Methos could taste the salt of his sweat mixed with the sweetness of the chocolate and he let himself imagine it was Duncan's hand he was cleaning so lovingly. Oh yeah, that particular fantasy did the trick all right. Methos felt his cock hardening inside its denim prison.
One handed Methos worked open the button and zipper on his jeans. He was intensely grateful he hadn't bothered with underwear as his clean hand grasped his semi-erect cock. It didn't need much encouragement to grow harder and longer. No, just a few choice mental images of the Highlander with his long, dark hair unbound were enough. Oh yes, thought Methos, Duncan... naked, aroused and on his knees at his feet.
As he stroked himself firmly, feeling the pleasure grow, Methos reached to the box of chocolates again. He chose another of the dark coated sweets and brought it to his lips. Very deliberately, Methos smeared the melting chocolate around his mouth before popping it inside. Ah, the strawberry creme he had resisted earlier, so sweet. Would Duncan taste this sweet?
Methos let his tongue steal out and carefully lick the sticky coating from his lips. He began to stroke his cock harder as he imagined Duncan's mouth covering his own, the Highlander claiming the stray traces of chocolate with insistent darts of his tongue. Oh yes, that was very good. Methos felt the surge of pre-come and without thinking let his chocolate covered fingers drift down to the tip of his cock. They spread the slick moisture as they circled the head. That they also coated the swollen flesh with a thin film of melted chocolate, Methos didn't care.
By now he was deeply lost in the sybaritic pleasure of touching himself. All the while Methos imagined that it was Duncan's hands on his cock, stroking him and pleasing him. Oh yes, Duncan! That feels perfect... Don't stop, Duncan, don't you dare stop!
Methos' hands tightened on his swollen cock and he thrust again and again into the warm grip. The slick concoction of pre-come and chocolate eased the glide of flesh on flesh and Methos moaned in delight. He was so deep into his fantasy now that he had no concept of where and when he actually was. All that mattered was the pleasure building to its peak between his spread thighs.
As he felt the tingling in his limbs which signalled the start of his climax Methos squeezed his eyes tight shut. Oh Gods, yes, it felt so good. Duncan was touching him, taking him to the edge and, there... launching him into ecstasy. Methos could feel the familiar buzz of Duncan's presence surrounding him as his climax swept over him.
Oh yes, the perfect fantasy, thought Methos, with the tiny remaining coherent portion of his brain. He had needed this release so much... The intense pleasure rushed along Methos' nerves as he felt the warm pulses of his semen spilling over his hands. Gently, he continued to stroke his slowly softening cock, coaxing the last sparkles of sensation from his body. It was just too much torture, to be sharing the loft with the Highlander and not to be able to touch him. Oh yes...
Methos was intensely grateful that he had turned down Duncan's offer of an evening at the opera. It wasn't just that he disliked opera, but he had really needed this time alone to work off his building frustration. Perhaps now he would be able to get through a few more days without pouncing on the Highlander and...
Presence. The buzz of another Immortal's presence. At the moment of his climax Methos had thought it was just a part of his highly detailed fantasy. But he was definitely coming down from his orgasmic high now and the sense of presence still remained... a very familiar one.
Oh Gods, no, take my head now! Methos groaned inwardly as his sex- drugged brain slowly struggled to comprehend what had happened. Duncan wasn't supposed to be here. It was only an hour or so since he'd left and he wasn't due back until much later. So what was he doing here now? And why wasn't he saying anything? Methos decided Duncan yelling at him would be much less unnerving than this silence. Or had the spectacle he'd evidently just witnessed rendered Duncan utterly speechless?
He knew he couldn't put the moment of reckoning off indefinitely so Methos slowly opened his eyes. First, he glanced down at himself, to see if the scene of the crime, so to speak, looked as bad as he feared it did. Oh yeah, every bit as bad... Methos' jeans were pulled open and his spent cock was clearly visible, framed by the gaping material. Even more clear were the sticky smears of melted chocolate liberally daubed along its length. Methos' stomach was equally messy, coated with sweat, come and more chocolate.
The old Immortal groaned. Could he possibly be any more humiliated? Well, actually, yes he probably could. He hadn't dared to look at Duncan yet. What the hell must the Highlander be thinking? Very slowly Methos raised his head.
Duncan was standing just a few feet away from Methos. There was a totally stunned expression on his face as he stared at the tableau before him. The dark eyes were wide open and fixed intently on the old Immortal and Duncan's cheeks were flushed.
"Methos?" he finally croaked out. "What? I..." Duncan didn't seem to be capable of getting out more than a single word at a time. "Why?"
The oldest Immortal decided to try and brazen it out. Explanations would only be as messy as the sticky aftermath on his stomach. No, better to treat it as a joke - just 'one of those things'. Hell, MacLeod still wasn't yelling, so maybe he'd even get away with it.
"Look, it was just a little harmless entertainment, MacLeod. You know how it is, surely. I wasn't expecting company quite so soon, though. I'm sorry, my mistake." Methos shrugged as casually as he could. "I guess I should go and clean myself up. Here, help yourself to a chocolate. They're good." He gestured to the box beside him.
"Methos," Duncan repeated. He ignored the offered chocolates.
"What?" Methos felt a flare of irritation. Why the hell didn't Duncan say something and get it over with? He'd just been caught red - well, chocolate-handed - jacking off on MacLeod's couch. It seemed to Methos that little scenario merited more comment from Duncan than this!!
The Highlander finally seemed to have rediscovered his ability to string together an entire sentence. "You said my name," he accused.
"Methos, you said my name when you came. I heard you." Duncan's voice cracked.
"I must have felt your buzz and just said it aloud without even realising," Methos temporised. Talk fast, old man, you might still get out of this with your head intact!
"No, no, the way you said it... like you meant it." Duncan was still watching Methos intently, searching the enigmatic face for - something. "Oh God, you were thinking of me, weren't you? You were getting off on the thought of me..."
"Fuck, MacLeod, don't flatter yourself," Methos lied, trying to sound as offhand as possible. In truth, he was starting to feel very exposed under the Highlander's scrutiny. To make matters worse, Duncan's proximity was beginning to get to Methos in an entirely predictable way. He really needed to escape to the bathroom before Duncan noticed. Besides, he wanted to clean himself up and get properly dressed again.
"I don't believe you," said Duncan quietly.
"What?" Methos stared at Duncan.
"I said, I don't believe you," Duncan repeated. He met Methos' gaze squarely and there was a sudden challenge in his eyes.
Oh shit, what's going on in the boy scout's head now? Methos felt himself begin to panic and wondered if there was any way he could reach his sword before Duncan struck. "What do you mean you don't believe me? Are you a mind-reader now? I know what I was fantasising about, MacLeod, and it..."
"Was me," Duncan finished for him. Before Methos could protest again Duncan had dropped to his knees at Methos' feet, looking up into the old man's face. "I know it was, Methos. When I walked in and saw you - heard you... I couldn't believe what I was seeing, but I do know what I heard. I'm going to prove to you that I'm right, too."
Methos had opened his mouth to interrupt, but he didn't get the chance to speak. Duncan was too quick for him and effectively shut the old man up with a skilfully applied hazelnut in caramel. While Methos struggled with his unexpected mouthful of chocolate, Duncan turned his attention to the old Immortal's sticky skin.
Whatever plans Duncan might have had for the evening, they certainly would never have included this. He was supposed to be at the opera. In fact he had made it all the way to the concert hall before realising he'd left his ticket behind at the loft. Duncan had driven back quickly to pick it up, hoping not to miss too much of the first act. Instead his early return had allowed Duncan to witness an altogether different performance.
Duncan had stopped dead in his tracks as he stepped out of the lift to see Methos sprawled on the couch, utterly lost in an orgy of self-gratification. It had been readily apparent to him that Methos was fast approaching the point of no return. It was also obvious that Methos hadn't been expecting to be interrupted. The old man would never normally be this blatant. Duncan had been as embarrassed as all hell to catch Methos in such a private and unguarded moment. He had seriously considered just retreating and hoping Methos was too preoccupied to have noticed his presence.
That intention was derailed, though, when Duncan had heard what Methos' husky, passion-filled voice was softly moaning. The old Immortal was pleasuring himself to an imminent climax to an entirely unexpected refrain.
"Oh yes, Duncan! Don't stop, Duncan!" Methos was desperately repeating.
The words had brought Duncan's intended withdrawal to an abrupt halt. He had turned around just in time to watch Methos explode into a gloriously uninhibited orgasm. Duncan had felt a little guilty about intruding, but on another level he was glad he'd witnessed this. Who knew how long it might have taken Methos to admit to his desire for Duncan otherwise. And what better opening could Duncan have asked for to broach his own, as yet unspoken, feelings for Methos.
So, Duncan knelt in front of Methos and let his eyes rove over the flat planes of the old Immortal's stomach. Then his gaze dropped to encompass the chocolate-smeared cock framed by the open fly of Methos' jeans. It was clearly showing an interest in proceedings again, already half erect.
Duncan drew in a deep breath. Chocolate, sex, Methos... it was a beautiful combination, he decided. Unable to resist any longer Duncan bent his head and began to lap at the sticky pool on Methos' belly. As he roughly tongued the smooth skin, licking it clean very thoroughly, the old Immortal's muscles quivered. Just for good measure, Duncan dipped into Methos' navel a few times with the tip of his tongue, just in case any stray traces remained.
Methos moaned around his mouthful of chocolate and caramel. Gods, Duncan's tongue was sinfully talented. Methos found his cock was once again responding eagerly. Oh, but this was a thousand times better than any fantasy he could have constructed!
Duncan was also enjoying his exploration. Chocolate coated Methos was a delicacy he could easily become addicted to. Oh yes, and he had been saving the best morsel for last... With a sigh of pleasure Duncan ran his tongue slowly along Methos' now fully erect cock. Delicious!
With admirable thoroughness Duncan licked every inch of the swollen flesh. He removed the last traces of chocolate from the plump tip and then delicately tongued the slit to capture the salty sweet drop of moisture that had formed there.
Methos groaned and writhed as Duncan inflicted the most delicious torture on him. The wet swipes of the Highlander's tongue felt so good, but Methos needed more. He thrust his hips up from the couch and hoped that Duncan would take the hint. Methos wanted to know what it would feel like to be engulfed by Duncan's hot, wet mouth. He needed to feel those perfect lips gliding along the length of...
With a single smooth movement Duncan leaned down and swallowed Methos' cock. The convulsive writhing of the old man's hips had left Duncan in no doubt as to what Methos wanted from him. And Duncan was more than willing to oblige. The gasps and moans coming from Methos encouraged Duncan and he sucked harder at the smooth column of flesh. Methos seemed to enjoy that even more and rewarded Duncan with still more erotic sounds of pleasure.
God, the old man knew how to moan! The sensual sounds seemed to wind around Duncan, drawing a sympathetic response from his body. Duncan supposed he should have expected Methos to be as vocal during sex as he was the rest of the time. Methos' movements were becoming steadily more frantic and Duncan had to grip his hips hard to hold him in place on the couch. As Duncan raked his teeth along the swollen shaft Methos came, suddenly and violently. His semen spilled into Duncan's throat and the Highlander swallowed it and then suckled the softening cock for more.
When Duncan finally released the spent flesh he sat back on his heels and looked at the satiated wreck that was the oldest Immortal. Dear God, Methos looked beautiful, flushed and dishevelled in the aftermath of his second climax. Oh yeah, he was much sweeter than chocolate, thought Duncan. Anyone who claimed chocolate was better than sex obviously hadn't tasted Methos.
The hazel eyes slowly opened and Methos turned a dazed expression on Duncan. "Am I imagining things, or did I just get the most amazing blow job from Duncan MacLeod?" he asked huskily.
Duncan leaned forward and captured Methos' soft lips with his own. As they parted under his gentle assault Duncan proceeded to kiss Methos thoroughly. His tongue invaded the old Immortal's mouth, carrying with it the taste of Methos' climax.
"Does that answer your question?" Duncan asked when he finally released Methos and drew back again.
Methos gingerly licked his lips. "Well, I don't remember seeing that flavour in the selection," he admitted, glancing over at the almost empty box of chocolates. He grinned. "Tastes pretty good, though..."
"I have something you might like even better," hinted Duncan.
"Oh?" Methos sounded intrigued.
As he looked down, Methos saw Duncan was carefully unzipping his trousers and freeing his own thick cock from the confinement of his briefs. The head was already slick with pre-come and Methos licked his lips again in anticipation. He locked his gaze with Duncan's as he slid off the couch to join the Highlander on the floor. As he reached to curve his hand around the tempting length of flesh, Methos smiled.
"Does this come with chocolate too?" he purred.
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