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 August 2000.
With thanks to Margaret for beta duties.
Amanda was awakened from the depths of a particularly pleasant dream by the sound of Duncan MacLeod talking in his sleep. His face was buried in the enticing curve at the base of her slender neck and his warm lips moved gently over her skin. She stretched sensually and smiled in contentment. How like Duncan to be so affectionate even when he was asleep. It brought back delightful memories of what they had been doing earlier in the evening. There was no doubt that taking a Quickening had a very beneficial effect on the Highlander's libido - and Amanda wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
She burrowed closer to the big, warm body and considered waking Duncan for more intimate play. Amanda was sure he would be more than willing. But as she turned towards Duncan, intent on rousing him, she finally made out exactly what it was that he was saying.
Lost in his dreams Duncan MacLeod was whispering a single word - a name. Until then Amanda had assumed it was her own; it sounded close enough, muffled by her neck. As she rolled over, though, Duncan exhaled on a long, breathy moan and she suddenly realised she had been mistaken. She froze as the two tell-tale syllables were repeated in a low, sensual voice that left little doubt about the nature of the Highlander's dream.
"Adam..." Duncan breathed, and curled back into the warmth at his side.
It was too much. Amanda harboured no illusions that Duncan was faithful to her during her sometimes lengthy absences. After all, it wasn't as if she didn't have other - interests of her own. But she did draw the line at Duncan calling her by another's name - even if he was asleep and didn't know he was doing it.
And what a revealing name! For all that she'd known him for 350 years it was news to Amanda that Duncan had a taste for his own sex. It was certainly something he'd kept well hidden. Not that she was offended, merely surprised. Duncan was a walking advertisement for heterosexuality - as much a magnet for beautiful women as he was for headhunting Immortals.
How long had he and Adam had something going on together? Methos, she corrected herself - she really couldn't think of the old reprobate as Adam Pierson - that sweet and innocent persona just didn't fit him, even if Duncan had fallen for the act. But the Highlander had only known him a short while before the old man pulled one of his famous disappearing acts, she was sure. And she had been staying here on the barge for most of the time since Methos had turned up again, along with Joe Dawson. So when had he and Duncan found the time to get together? And right under her nose at that!!
Amanda was all set to get extremely pissed off with the Highlander when another thought struck her. Maybe Duncan and Adam hadn't got together - at least, not yet. Perhaps it was actually a case of Duncan's subconscious making his desires known through his dreams. She might not have been deceived. The Highlander's conscious mind might not have caught on to the possibility of his being attracted to the 5,000 year old Immortal - or perhaps it was actively denying it.
Now that sounded more like the Duncan she knew. If he perceived himself to be as straight as she'd always pegged him - and given the somewhat rigid beliefs he'd been raised with... Oh, what fodder for the great MacLeod guilt machine! A small smile curved Amanda's lips. Duncan really could be frightfully conventional at times. Then again, that was also a part of his undoubted charm...
So, did Methos have any idea that Duncan was having dreams about him? And decidedly erotic dreams at that, if the low moans and the firm erection bumping against Amanda's hip were anything to go by. If he did, would Methos be attracted to Duncan in his turn? Very likely, she thought, from what she knew of the old man's tastes. He'd turned up in the company of more than one strong, charismatic Immortal over the years of their acquaintance. And Amanda had never had any doubt that Methos was sleeping with them - it had always been clear to her that his sexuality was entirely opportunistic.
Hmmm... what an interesting discovery, Amanda mused, her initial pique now quite dispelled. It could be highly entertaining to quiz Duncan about his dreams. Would he admit his attraction to the other Immortal or would he try and wriggle out of it? If the latter he would probably try to distract her with sex - not that she would complain, or refuse his attentions, if he did - but the idea of bringing Duncan and Methos together had a strange appeal to it. She might have to be a little sneaky about it, but Amanda was sure she was more than up to the task.
Her mind began to busily scheme and plot... and turned to trying to figure out how she could be around to watch the results if she were successful. Or, better yet, how she could insinuate herself into the equation while the two men explored one another. With a series of highly stimulating possibilities parading through her mind, Amanda settled back against the solid warmth of Duncan's body again. His arms slid around her, tightening possessively, and very soon she slipped into sleep once more.
The next morning Amanda waited until after Duncan had worked off his early morning amorousness on her more than willing body before she began her enquiries. She might be intending to try and bring Duncan and Methos together, but that didn't mean she was about to forego her own pleasures. Altruism was not a word common to her vocabulary.
As Duncan lay drowsily recovering from their exertions Amanda rolled onto her side. She propped herself up on one elbow so she could see the Highlander's expression clearly. He was appallingly bad at keeping his emotions from showing on his face - especially in the aftermath of passion. Amanda had often found Duncan's eyes to be a good deal more eloquent than his words over the course of their relationship and now she definitely wanted to see how he would react to what she had to say.
"Duncan..." she began softly.
"Mmm, what is it?" he asked, opening his eyes and looking up at her.
"You know, you were talking in your sleep last night," Amanda continued.
"I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" Duncan enquired, all solicitousness. He turned until he was facing her.
"No, not really, I was already awake," she replied. "I was just a bit - intrigued by what you were saying," she added.
"Oh? Was I having a nightmare?" Duncan frowned. "I don't remember if I was dreaming..."
"No?" Amanda caught the dark eyes, holding their gaze. "To be honest it didn't sound like a nightmare to me - quite the contrary, in fact."
"Oh...?" Duncan was starting to sound a little doubtful. "What do you mean exactly?"
"Well, I suppose I could have been mistaken, but it sounded to me like you were getting more than a little hot under the collar..." Amanda's expression turned teasing, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Actually, the moans and groans were positively X rated." She grinned down at him.
Duncan looked a trifle uncomfortable. "Oh... I... What can I say, obviously you inspire me, even when I'm asleep," he managed gamely.
"Really?" Amanda asked sweetly. "Is that so?"
"Yeah, well, it happens. You should be flattered that you're still on my mind even when I'm sleeping." Duncan smiled, sounding more confident again. He reached out and ran one broad palm slowly up Amanda's arm.
She resisted the tingles his touch sent through her and tilted her head, considering Duncan's handsome face for a long moment. "Yes," she agreed, "I suppose I would be."
Duncan's hand stilled and he looked at her, puzzled. "What do you mean, you would be?"
Leaning closer to him, Amanda moved in for the kill. "I would be," she informed him succinctly, "if it were my name you were calling."
She sat back and watched with utmost fascination as a dark flush crept over Duncan's tanned skin. He rolled away from her, onto his back, and closed his eyes. He looked sincerely embarrassed.
"What... who?" he managed finally, still refusing to meet her gaze.
A slow, satisfied smile spread across Amanda's face. Perfect. "Does the name - Adam mean anything to you?" she asked innocently, anticipating, even as she said it, the reaction it would evoke.
Duncan's eyes flew open at once, wide and disbelieving. If possible, the blush staining his skin deepened even further. He looked askance at her, his expression unmistakably guilty.
"Are you sure?" he groaned. "You couldn't have...?"
"Positive," she replied, gratified that her guess was being confirmed. It seemed that Duncan hadn't yet admitted to his attraction to the old man - not even to himself. "So," she enquired brightly, "how long have you been having erotic dreams about Methos?"
Duncan groaned again, covering his face with his hands. "Amanda..."
"Oh, come on, MacLeod, it's not the end of the world. So, you have the hots for Methos - it's understandable." Amanda shrugged. "No big deal."
"I beg your pardon? No big deal..." Duncan spluttered indignantly.
Amanda shook her head. Men! They were quite hopeless, always wanting to complicate what should be perfectly straightforward. "Does he know?" she asked, deciding to cut to the chase.
"No!" said Duncan at once.
And Amanda noted that he had not tried to deny either having had dreams about Methos previously or the fact that he was attracted to him.
"He isn't going to know, either - is he?" Duncan added warningly when Amanda said nothing.
"Whyever not?" she asked.
"Because - assuming he didn't take my head, of course - he'd probably never speak to me again if he knew," replied Duncan. "Can you imagine what he'd say?"
Amanda looked sceptical.
"Don't look at me like that," protested Duncan. "And don't you even think of doing something like telling him behind my back! Christ, talking in my sleep... I feel like a schoolkid with a crush on their teacher, or something equally foolish, now."
Amanda laughed. "Yeah, I can just imagine you as a horny teenager, MacLeod - all those hormones... But what makes you so sure that Methos wouldn't be interested?"
"Leave it, Amanda..." cautioned Duncan.
"Why?" she pouted. "You two would be good together."
"Don't be ridiculous," Duncan scoffed. "What would a 5,000 year old man want with me?"
Amanda let her lascivious gaze travel slowly over Duncan's naked form, lingering on his semi-erect cock. "I can think of a few things," she told him in her most seductive voice. Her fingers idly wandered down the same path her eyes had taken.
Duncan couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, but that's you talking, not Methos." Carefully he stilled her wandering hand. "It's not the same thing at all."
"Trust me, Duncan, you're just his type," said Amanda coyly.
"How would you know?" he asked with a frown. "Besides, Methos isn't my type - no matter what you think," he added with finality. Defensively, Duncan sat up, pulling his knees tightly up to his chest.
"Listen to me, Duncan," said Amanda, her patience with the infuriating Scot beginning to wear out. This much denial was just carrying things too far. "The whole Methos not being your type thing is crap! I heard you when you were dreaming last night, remember? As for Methos, well, I've known him off and on for a long time; I know the kind of guys he goes for. Frankly, the only thing that surprises me is that he hasn't put the moves on you already. He's not usually this reticent."
"Amanda!" Duncan spluttered, embarrassed. This was probably a whole lot more than he wanted to know about Methos' sex life... especially when his own feelings about the other Immortal were so confused.
He didn't get attracted to men - never had... at least, not to the extent of wanting to act on the attraction. But Methos was different. With him there had been a spark from the very beginning. Duncan had tried to rationalise it away as awe at being in the company of a 5,000 year old myth, but it had never really felt as if that was all it was. And the dreams - the ones he could remember, at any rate - had only reinforced that feeling. They'd been so intense, so... arousing. And quite unequivocal in their meaning - himself and Methos naked, entwined, making love... Oh yes, how those dreams had excited him, even as they left him confused and off- balance.
But with Amanda around - sharing his bed - it had been easy enough to smother the feelings. He'd been able to lose himself in the safe familiarity of loving her. Amanda's warm, soft curves were everything that Methos' long, lean, angular body was not. Apparently, though, his subconscious was not so easily fooled... and now Amanda knew and had pulled those feelings out into the light, forcing him to look more closely at them.
"Duncan, Duncan!" Amanda's lilting voice drew him back out of his thoughts. "Are you listening to me?"
"I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"I said, is it really about his age - or is it the fact that he's a man that's bothering you," Amanda repeated impatiently.
"Do we have to talk about this now?" asked Duncan, clearly embarrassed.
"Yes, I think we do," she insisted. "It's obvious you have feelings for Methos. Are you just going to ignore them and hope they go away? They won't. And next time you say his name in your sleep you might not remember to call him Adam."
Duncan paled visibly, looking stricken. "Oh God, what if I called him Methos without even knowing it. If I let that slip to the wrong person..."
"Exactly. You have to resolve what you're feeling, Duncan," said Amanda gently.
"What if he just laughs in my face and never wants to see me again, though? I've barely had the time to get to know him at all. Besides, I have no clue how to..." Duncan flushed and ducked his head.
"I can't predict for certain how Methos will react, but... Well, knowing him I don't think he'll laugh at you."
In fact, the more Amanda thought about it, the more sure she was that Methos would be doing anything but laughing. If his interest hadn't been piqued by the Highlander at their first meeting she doubted he would have come back to Paris with Joe Dawson. If Methos really wanted to disappear he was more than likely to drop out of sight for years, rather than weeks. It was only a hunch - albeit a pretty strong one - but she had a feeling MacLeod wouldn't be turned down. That was, assuming he ever worked up the courage to approach Methos at all.
Amanda smiled. It was hard for her to picture Duncan as the blushing virgin; not that she was above teasing him about it, at least a little.
"As to the other thing," she informed Duncan, her eyes sparkling devilishly. "It's not really so different from those things you've done before with me. Though, if you'd like to practise..."
She didn't think she had ever seen MacLeod turn quite that shade of red before. It really was so much fun to tease him. It was a shame to be pushing him into another's bed... Still, she wasn't greedy - well, only a little. Duncan enjoyed sex and there would, no doubt, be other times for her to be with him. Now it was Methos' turn.
"So," she asked, "will you see him?"
Duncan stared at her for a very long time before he leaned forward and kissed her gently on the forehead.
"What would I do without you?" he said quietly. "Yes, I'll see him. Thank you."
Amanda sat up, putting her arms around him and giving him a quick hug. "You be sure and give Methos a kiss from me - and tell him he owes me one," she whispered, her lips just brushing Duncan's ear.
He smiled. Sometimes Amanda really surprised him. "I will," he promised.
It was with more than a little trepidation that Duncan knocked on the door of Methos' new Paris apartment later that same day. He knew the other Immortal was at home - the siren song of Methos' presence had reached him long before he climbed the steps to the old building. For a moment Duncan had been tempted to turn around and head back the way he'd come, but then he heard Amanda's voice in the back of his head, chiding him for being a coward. So, here he stood, waiting for the oldest Immortal to open his door and wondering what the hell he was going to say when he did.
A moment or two later the door inched open and a suspicious gaze peered round the edge of it at him. Hazel eyes widened slightly as Methos identified his unexpected visitor and then the door was opened the whole way. Duncan didn't miss the flash of steel as Methos' Ivanhoe was discreetly lowered and tucked back out of sight.
"Sorry, I wasn't expecting visitors today. You should have called - the reception would have been a little warmer." While Methos didn't ask outright why he'd come, nevertheless there was the hint of a question in the rich voice.
"It was a spur of the minute decision," said Duncan in automatic apology. "I was just passing. If it's not convenient I can go..." Taking a step away from the door, he was almost too eager to be given the chance to leave.
Methos seemed to sense the undercurrent of anxiety and a slight frown creased his forehead. "No, now that you're here... come in."
The old Immortal moved away from the entrance and Duncan no longer had any excuse for not following him inside. He did so, pushing the door closed behind him and walking into the apartment proper.
"So, to what do I owe the honour?" Methos asked. "Beer?"
"Yeah, please," Duncan replied. He was half tempted to ask for something stronger. He was certainly in need of a distraction from his increasing nervousness now that he was actually here and face to face with the other Immortal.
Methos retrieved two bottles from the fridge and walked back into the main room, handing one to Duncan. He eyed the uncharacteristically reticent and edgy Highlander curiously. There was clearly something brewing in MacLeod's brain, but he had no idea what - and the other man seemed in no hurry to enlighten him.
"I can't say I expected to see you around for a while," Methos prompted.
"Oh, why not?" Duncan collected himself enough to enquire.
"Well, with Amanda still in town.... I thought you'd be otherwise engaged."
Methos threw a knowing look at the other man and was surprised to see the colour rise on his skin. He wouldn't have had MacLeod down as one to be easily embarrassed by a little teasing. Or had he inadvertently touched on a sore point? Maybe the pair had had some kind of falling out. There were times when Amanda was enough to try the patience of a saint.
"Everything is OK with the two of you, isn't it?" Methos asked carefully.
"Um, yeah, fine," agreed Duncan awkwardly, wondering how to steer the conversation away from Amanda and on to the real reason for his being here. "Actually, she was the one who suggested I came here," he admitted finally.
Duncan dropped down onto the couch and took a long swallow from his beer. Glancing up, he saw that Methos hadn't moved and was now watching him warily.
"Why?" asked the old Immortal, his voice suddenly sharp. "Did she need a little quality shopping time alone with your credit card?"
Duncan winced at the heavy sarcasm. "No, it's nothing like that," he sighed. "Please, sit down, Methos, you're making me nervous - hovering like that."
"That's nothing to what you're doing to me," muttered Methos as he finally sank into a chair, quickly arranging himself in a comfortable sprawl. "Just out of curiosity, do you plan on saying anything that actually makes sense any time soon, MacLeod?" he enquired.
Staring at the slender figure seated opposite him, Duncan shrugged helplessly. He knew how to seduce women - he'd had plenty of practice at that - but with Methos... he had absolutely no idea where to begin. And the other Immortal's thinly veiled irritation was doing nothing to help.
"Very eloquent, I'm sure," sighed Methos, "but this conversation is becoming a trifle one-sided. Answer me one question, MacLeod. Why are you here?"
Quite unconsciously, Methos punctuated his question by reaching up and brushing a stray lock of soft brown hair off his forehead.
As if transfixed, Duncan followed the movement of the pale, elegant hand with avid eyes. He bit his lip as he wondered what that dark strand of hair would feel like between his own fingertips. Lost in his thoughts, he missed the slight frown that crossed Methos' features as he noticed the Highlander's sudden preoccupation.
Methos raised his bottle to his lips. He tipped his head back just a little as he drank, baring his throat to Duncan's gaze. Surreptitiously he watched the other man, his frown deepening as he realised just how focused on his every movement MacLeod seemed to be. What was going on here? Why was he watching so closely? Without thinking, Methos tapped the neck of his beer bottle against his lips as he pondered, caressing the rim lightly with his mouth.
It was merely a pensive gesture, nothing sensual intended, but from where Duncan was sitting the effect was electric. He could all too easily imagine something else entirely being brushed by those mobile lips and a sympathetic ache throbbed through his groin at the thought. Duncan shifted uneasily on the couch, trying to mask his involuntary reaction.
Methos glanced across at him sharply, wondering at the cause of Duncan's sudden bout of fidgeting. He closed his mouth around the bottle and took another pull from it. It was almost empty now and he had to tip it up a good way to get at the remaining contents. As he lowered it, a few stray drops of beer moistened his lips and his tongue stole out to catch them. When his eyes settled on MacLeod again, the Highlander seemed frozen in place - his hands clutching at his own bottle for all he was worth. What the...?
"Methos, are you trying to kill me here?" Duncan gritted out at last, as he registered the other Immortal's intent stare. Silence was no longer an option. Every nerve in Duncan's body seemed to be alight with lust - and it needed an outlet.
"I don't know what the hell you're talking about, MacLeod," Methos shot back, irritated. If the infuriating child was about to lose it - and his behaviour seemed irrational enough - Methos wished he could have picked somewhere else to do it. After recent events he really was all in favour of a quiet life.
"Don't you? Fuck!" MacLeod exploded.
Methos' eyebrows raised at the uncharacteristic obscenity.
"You're practically making love to that bloody beer bottle!" Duncan continued, undaunted. "Have you any idea what it's doing to me?"
As Methos' eyes widened in sudden comprehension, Duncan looked away. Now the words had been said he was totally mortified by his outburst. That certainly hadn't been how he had envisaged telling Methos what he was feeling. Still, it was too late to call them back now. But what the hell must the old man be thinking?
In truth, Methos' thoughts were spinning in a dizzy whirl. MacLeod had actually thought he was deliberately teasing him... which meant.... Oh God! Duncan MacLeod had come here intending to - what, exactly?
Had he planned on seduction? A quick fuck? Or had he actually thought that far ahead? Either way, the Highlander had clearly had sex in mind when he embarked on his visit. And he'd said that Amanda had encouraged him to come. What the heck did that mean, Methos wondered. He would have thought that Duncan and the little minx would have better things to do in bed than talk about him.
MacLeod was still studiously avoiding looking at him, evidently embarrassed. Well, it wasn't the most suave approach Methos had ever been on the receiving end of, so he wasn't really surprised. But it had certainly been heartfelt. Then again, he had always heard how skilled the Highlander was reputed to be in the art of seduction. Unless...
A small smile touched Methos' lips. Was it possible that MacLeod had never attempted to seduce another man before? Was that why Amanda had been the one to suggest he came? Oh, now that was a delicious possibility - Duncan MacLeod unable to take control of a situation the way he usually did... because he didn't know how.
It would, Methos admitted to himself, be most entertaining to take command of the situation and show MacLeod exactly what he'd been missing all these years. But Methos had seen enough of the Highlander to know that he did not willingly relinquish control to anyone. It made him uncomfortable - did not fit with his perception of what was right and proper behaviour for the son of a Clan Chieftain. It was, very probably, that kind of thinking which had kept Duncan from experimenting with his own gender before now. So, that wasn't the answer.
What, though, if Duncan were presented with someone only a little more experienced than himself - a little shy and unsure, but willing to allow MacLeod to test out the boundaries of this fledgling extension to his sexuality. If Adam Pierson were to suggest a mutual exploration of the possibilities, would Duncan agree?
Carefully, Methos slid out of his chair. He left the beer bottle behind and, on his knees, sidled across until he knelt just in front of the Highlander. Slowly he raised one hand and rested it gently on the other man's thigh.
"Mac..." he ventured, tentatively.
Duncan started; he'd been so lost in his embarrassment that he hadn't noticed when Methos moved. It was a shock to find him so close, and he was only too aware of the heat from the slender palm spread lightly on his thigh.
"I'm sorry, Methos." He began to apologise automatically. "I didn't mean..."
"It's all right. I understand. This is all new to you, isn't it?" Methos tried out his best Adam Pierson smile - sweet and just a little shy.
Duncan blushed and then, a bit reluctantly, nodded. But he didn't try and retreat. Instead he focused on the slim form in front of him, waiting.
Methos lowered his long, dark lashes, veiling the excitement glittering in his green/gold eyes. Duncan was ready to listen, to be persuaded - if he approached this right. He could do demure, really he could. He could let himself be gently seduced - succumb to the Highlander's undoubted charms - at least, Duncan would believe that's what was happening.
With a sweep of his lashes, Methos looked up and met MacLeod's deep brown eyes. They were watching him seriously.
"I'm flattered," he said softly, allowing the sudden warmth he felt towards Duncan to colour his tone. "It's been a very long time since I was someone's first."
"Then you don't mind?"
How did the child manage it, Methos wondered. The concept of a 400 year old virgin should have been ridiculous, but somehow MacLeod contrived to turn it into an asset - one of many, the old Immortal thought, as his eyes drifted over the handsome face and strong body.
"Oh, I don't mind at all," he replied, his voice soft and intimate.
The answering smile was ample reward for his efforts. Methos felt arousal begin to coil low in his belly. Gods, he had never really allowed himself to consider just how much he desired the Highlander until this moment. Duncan had seemed perfectly content to bed Amanda and not look for other diversions. It simply hadn't been an issue. But now the rules had all been changed and it promised to be an interesting evening, exploring this mutual attraction.
"Methos, are you saying... that you feel something for me too?" Duncan asked suddenly.
Gently Methos began to caress the firm muscles in MacLeod's thigh, the pressure of his long fingers distinctly sensual.
"Didn't you know?" returned the old Immortal. It wasn't precisely a lie - just because he hadn't admitted to them before, even to himself, it didn't mean the feelings hadn't always been there.
"No, I... I've barely acknowledged what I feel," Duncan sighed, "anything more... Well, I never would have imagined that a 5,000 year old man could want me."
"Ah, Highlander, you're a beautiful man. Surely you know that. Forgive me, but you don't strike me as the type given to false modesty," replied Methos with a slight smile.
Duncan inclined his head in rueful acknowledgment.
"Is it so hard to believe, then? I may be 5,000 years old, but that doesn't mean my tastes are any different to yours, or anyone else's."
And that probably was a lie, thought Methos. Over time his tastes had run to a great many things which doubtless would not be considered socially acceptable in the 20th century, but he wasn't about to tell that to a man with the kind of moral code the Highlander espoused.
"Amanda said much the same thing," said Duncan with a trace of embarrassment. "I thought she might be a touch biased, though."
A genuine laugh greeted Duncan's pronouncement.
"In this, at least, you should trust her," Methos admonished him.
"Perhaps," Duncan conceded. He reached down and stilled Methos' hand where it had continued to caress his leg. The touch was too distracting, too enticing. He couldn't think straight with those agile fingers working their subtle magic.
"I'm sorry," said Methos, looking chastened. "I didn't mean to push you." He bent his head and his hair fell forward across his forehead again.
This time Duncan gave in to temptation. His hand stole out and brushed the errant strands away from the youthful-seeming face. Methos' hair felt just as soft as Duncan had imagined. As the other Immortal made no protest he continued the caress, sliding his fingers deeper into the dark locks and curving them around the back of Methos' head.
With a sigh, Methos leaned into the touch. This was as good a beginning as any. Clearly this was something Duncan wanted to do and felt comfortable with. Methos began to vocalise his appreciation, letting his quiet murmurs and sighs show Duncan how much he was enjoying his touch.
After a few minutes Duncan grew bolder. His fingers strayed further - to Methos' long neck and the angular planes of his face. Slowly Duncan began to map out the other Immortal's features by touch. The pale skin was warm and smooth against his fingertips, save for the faint stubble around Methos' jawline. The slight roughness there made Duncan shiver, bringing home to him once again his partner's masculinity. His fingers glided slowly across the other man's lips and as they did Methos' tongue slipped out to curl around them suggestively. Duncan groaned as the moist caress seemed to send a jolt of arousal directly to his cock.
"Methos..." he breathed.
The old Immortal kissed the tips of his fingers quickly before looking up at him, his eyes heavy-lidded.
"Yes?" he replied softly. "Do you want to stop?"
"Dear God, no," Duncan assured him. "I just - I want to touch you so much. Can I?"
"Whatever you want," Methos answered, his expression open, encouraging. He pushed up off his knees and sat on the couch beside Duncan. Carefully he reached out and stroked the Highlander's cheek. "There's something I want, too. May I have it?"
"What is it?" asked Duncan a little shakily. His mind was providing him with a number of answers, all of them both terrifying and arousing. The deep, resonant tone of Methos' voice was doing unspeakable things to him, shattering the last vestiges of his self-control - and Duncan found he didn't care.
"Your mouth..." breathed Methos, leaning in close enough for his breath to ghost across Duncan's lips.
"Christ, yes," moaned Duncan, and that was all he had time to get out before Methos' lips descended to cover his own.
The kiss was gentle, but insistent. Methos' tongue probed carefully at Duncan's mouth, caressing lightly until the full lips parted for him. Then the old Immortal's tongue swept inside, touching and tasting and mating with Duncan's in a sensual dance.
Lost in the pleasure of the kiss, Duncan almost forgot what he had wanted - almost. His hands reached out and began to stroke the tempting neck once again, then they slid lower. The broad shoulders and flat but muscular chest Duncan could feel through the other Immortal's shirt brought home to him once more just who it was that he was kissing. Uncertainty threatened to set in, but the sweet, hungry mouth moving against his own diverted him, reminding him how much pleasure there was to be tasted here.
Slowly Duncan's fingers sought out the buttons of Methos' shirt and began to undo them. When it was open all the way down Duncan burrowed his hands inside, feeling warm, smooth skin against his palms. Methos' chest was almost hairless and surprisingly well-defined - quite a contrast to Adam Pierson's outward appearance.
Duncan's questing fingers quickly found the tight buds of his nipples, evidence of the old Immortal's arousal. Duncan ran his thumbs in small circles over the hard peaks and was rewarded when Methos gasped his approval. The Highlander captured the sound with his mouth as he deepened their kiss. Now it was Duncan's turn to insinuate his tongue into Methos' more than willing mouth, as his confidence grew along with his desire for the ancient Immortal.
Methos smiled inwardly as he felt Duncan take control of the kiss. Ah yes, the alpha male in the Highlander was beginning to assert himself, even in these unfamiliar circumstances. Not that Methos minded - on the contrary, he rather liked the idea of being swept off his feet by Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, Highland warrior and - reputedly - consummate lover. There was no doubt that the man was simply stunning at close range and, oh, that mouth! Methos wanted a great many more things from that mouth before the evening was over.
For now, though, he carefully parted their lips, panting for breath. Duncan was in no better shape and Methos raised a hand to stroke the other man's long, dark mane soothingly as he dragged in gulps of air.
"You certainly don't need any lessons on how to kiss," he murmured, once he was capable of speech. He shot a sidelong glance at Duncan, gauging his reaction.
"You liked that?" Duncan asked with charming uncertainty.
"If I'd kept on liking it for much longer I'd have come in my jeans," the old Immortal confided. He regarded Duncan from behind the curtain of his lashes, Adam Pierson once more to the fore. He watched the faint blush that coloured the Highlander's cheeks at his frank admission - and it had been the truth. "Why does that embarrass you?" he asked. "You should be flattered. That's how much you make me want you, Duncan."
Yet again the rich, deep voice was doing all kinds of things to Duncan as it wrapped around him, carrying its reassuring message. Methos really did want him, he exulted, and right now he desperately wanted to be able to touch more of Methos. Slowly he trailed his hands down the flat planes of the other man's stomach until they came to rest at the waistband of his jeans.
"May I?" asked Duncan, his voice husky.
"With pleasure," Methos assured him, his voice seeming to drop another octave - intimate and sensual.
At that moment Duncan was afraid he was the one who might come in his pants, just from listening to those incredibly sexy tones. He shuddered and forced his concentration back to the button and zipper under his fingers.
Methos rested in an apparently boneless sprawl against the back of the couch, laying himself open to Duncan's explorations. But his cock was hard and hot inside its prison of worn denim and he was more than grateful when Duncan finally found the courage to begin sliding the zip down. Methos gave a soft sigh as the pressure on his swollen flesh was at last relieved.
With careful hands Duncan pushed the heavy fabric out of his way. He expected to feel the cool cotton of underwear beneath the jeans and was more than a little startled when his fingers immediately encountered heated skin and coarse curls instead. He pulled back, looking at Methos questioningly.
The old Immortal smiled slightly at the Highlander's expression. Why so surprised? Duncan had grown up wearing a kilt and Methos was damned sure he hadn't worn Calvin Kleins underneath it! So why should he find it odd that Methos had never adapted to the modern preference for underwear?
"Is there a problem?" Methos asked teasingly. "Everything feels just fine from here."
"No, no... it's fine," stammered Duncan, inwardly cursing himself for behaving like an idiot. What must Methos think of him? He was definitely carrying the whole blushing virgin thing too far. It wasn't as if he hadn't known he would be faced with the naked reality of Methos' body at some point in the proceedings. He just hadn't expected it to happen quite so quickly.
Methos' voice pulled his attention away from contemplation of the other man's crotch. He looked up again to meet hazel eyes sparkling with gentle amusement, and something more.
"Sorry," he muttered. "I'm just... feeling a little out of my depth here."
"I know, and I shouldn't tease you for that," said Methos softly. "I just never imagined I'd be the one who'd have to do the seducing with you, Highlander. And I've found myself imagining this quite often lately..."
"Really? So, did you want to be seduced?" Duncan found himself asking, before he could think better of it.
Ancient eyes caught and held his, now utterly serious. "Oh yes..."
For a moment Duncan forgot to breathe. Then, with a small gasp, he was leaning down, capturing the mobile lips in a deep, hungry kiss. Determinedly Duncan tasted every millimetre of the old Immortal's mouth, claiming it for his own.
And Methos didn't mind at all being claimed. Indeed, he couldn't wait for Duncan to begin asserting his claim to the rest of his body. He didn't have to wait very long.
As if released from his uncertainty by Methos' breathless declaration, Duncan set about learning all the ancient Immortal's secrets. It still felt strange to be ranging over a body as firm and strong as his own, but it was exciting too. And there were tender spots to be discovered as well. Duncan quickly learned how susceptible Methos was to every kiss, lick and nibble bestowed on his long, pale neck. He returned again and again to that particular playground just to see what new and unbelievably erotic moans, gasps and sinuous wriggles he could wring from the old man.
But he didn't stop there. Duncan slid Methos' shirt from his shoulders so he could better appreciate the finely muscled torso with its incredibly smooth and pale skin. He stroked and licked his broad canvas, tasting the salt of Methos' sweat as he writhed and grew hotter under Duncan's determined assault.
The rosy nipples came in for their share of the delicious torture too. Duncan lapped at the twin nubs, savouring the deeper flavour of the pebbled skin. Then his tongue explored the shallow indentation of Methos' navel, dipping inside to taste and tease until the old Immortal was gasping at the ticklish sensation.
Lying back and trying desperately not to come Methos wondered just what he'd unleashed. This side of MacLeod was both terrifying in its focused intensity and incredibly arousing. No wonder Amanda had kept coming back for more over all these years. If this was any indication of what it was like to be seduced and loved by Duncan MacLeod... Methos could easily see how addictive it could become. And then, in a few short moments, he lost all ability for further rational thought.
Carefully Duncan raised Methos' hips and pulled his jeans all the way down and off, tugging his boots and socks off at the same time. It felt a little strange to be sitting here fully clothed while Methos was spread before him totally naked, but Duncan no longer had any desire to be anywhere other than right where he was. His senses were flooded with impressions of the oldest Immortal and still he wanted more.
Slowly he slid off the couch. He pushed the strongly muscled thighs apart and crawled between them on his knees. For a long moment Duncan simply looked at the heavy cock resting on Methos' belly. He was unsure once again. He wanted this - for himself and for the other man - but he didn't quite know where to begin. He looked up at Methos' face, needing to see his reaction.
The hazel eyes were hooded, the lids heavy with the pleasure flowing through Methos' body. The soft brown hair had fallen across his forehead again as Methos tossed and turned. It conspired with the sweet, satisfied smile on his lips to make him look incredibly young. 5,000 years old and still he could look like that...
Duncan swallowed hard.
Methos' gaze locked with Duncan's. "Start with whatever would make you feel good," suggested the old Immortal gently, sensing his partner's dilemma. "It's a good enough place to begin and then we can take it from there." He smiled encouragingly and Duncan nodded.
With tentative fingers Duncan lifted the thick shaft, wrapping his hand around it. It felt hot and smooth and comfortingly similar to his own. He squeezed it a little tighter and gave the hard length several experimental strokes. The foreskin glided over the hardness beneath and Duncan was gratified by the soft murmur of pleasure that issued from Methos' lips. Encouraged he began to pump more firmly, his hand sliding up and down the whole length of Methos' cock.
After a few minutes punctuated by the old Immortal's breathless expressions of delight, another hand came to rest on top of Duncan's, stilling his touch. He looked up and Methos' eyes met his pleadingly.
"More," whispered Methos.
"More?" Duncan repeated, the single word now a question.
Methos nodded. "Your mouth," he said hoarsely. "Please..."
Duncan regarded the other Immortal nervously. "I don't know..." he began.
"Yes, you do," Methos insisted fiercely. "You know what you like; that will be enough. Please."
In a nervous gesture Duncan licked his lips - moistening the suddenly dry skin - and Methos groaned. "What?" he asked ingenuously.
"Dammit, Duncan, stop being such a bloody tease," Methos growled, beyond trying to keep his Adam face in place. "If you can lick your lips like that you can certainly put your tongue to better use doing the same thing to my cock!"
Methos reached up and twined his fingers deep in Duncan's thick hair. Gently but firmly he encouraged the Highlander's head back down towards his groin. He released one hand and wrapped it around his own cock, easing the foreskin back. Then he tugged on Duncan's hair again, bringing his face closer still.
The scent of Methos' arousal washed over Duncan as the plump, slick head of the old Immortal's cock hovered scant inches from his lips. Duncan knew how much he enjoyed being on the receiving end of this pleasure; was it fair to deny Methos?
Slowly Duncan lowered his head the last, small distance and cautiously lapped at the very tip of Methos' cock. The salty flavour of his pre-come exploded on Duncan's tongue and he and Methos moaned in unison. Duncan repeated the caress, carefully tonguing the tiny slit, suddenly wanting more of that salt sweetness. He was quickly rewarded with a fresh surge of moisture and closed his mouth over Methos' cock to suckle it away.
With a groan Methos bucked his hips upwards and found his cock sliding past Duncan's lips into glorious, wet heat. It took all of his control not to thrust harder, not to simply fuck that luscious mouth.
But Duncan seemed to be getting the idea anyway. His lips tightened around the thick cock, increasing the suction as he moved up and down the hard length. When he also closed one meaty hand around Methos' balls, squeezing gently, it was finally too much for the old Immortal.
With a harsh cry Methos thrust up hard and came.
His release flooded Duncan's mouth and for a moment the Highlander almost backed away, but the fingers of one of Methos' hands were still laced into his hair - the old Immortal kneading Duncan's scalp as he convulsed. So Duncan gave in to the gentle urging, carefully continuing to suckle the softening flesh in his mouth, and Methos' moans of pleasure seemed to suggest that he was doing something right.
The salty fluid was slightly bitter as Duncan tentatively swallowed it, the movement of his throat against Methos' cock bringing forth new groans as the old Immortal slowly settled. When the grip on his hair finally loosened, Duncan carefully let Methos' now lax cock slip from his mouth. He sat back on his heels and studied the other Immortal. Methos' eyes were closed and a distinctly contented smile graced his lips.
Without bothering to open his eyes Methos spoke. "You show promise, Highlander."
"I do?" Duncan sounded uncertain. He wasn't sure if Methos actually meant it, or was just trying to be polite. After all, the old man must have had his pick of talented lovers over the millennia.
"Oh yes, real promise..." The tone was sultry as Methos' eyelids slowly raised, revealing pupils now more green than hazel. "And such effort deserves its reward, don't you think?"
"What kind of a reward?" asked Duncan, though he rather suspected he knew what Methos had in mind.
"Oh, Duncan, I want to take you to bed and make you feel so good," Methos replied, slowly sitting up. He leaned forward, his face just inches from Duncan's own. "Would you like that?"
Duncan could only nod, mesmerised by the other Immortal's sensual grace, like a rabbit hypnotised by a snake.
"Oh good," breathed Methos and closed the distance between them. His tongue stole out and gently licked Duncan's lips, tracing their fullness. "So beautiful..." he whispered as the licks became a full-blown kiss.
Methos slid one slender hand around the back of Duncan's neck, caressing the golden skin as his mouth took undisputed possession of Duncan's. He made the kiss last a long time and then pulled back to look deep into the Highlander's dazed brown eyes. Oh yes, he was going to learn just how good he could feel: Methos would show Duncan how much pleasure was to be had in giving up control to another and submitting to their desires. He somehow doubted that the Highlander had ever been truly submissive in his life.
Rising, Methos urged Duncan up with him and slowly led him over to the bed.
"Relax," he murmured, gently tracing the contours of Duncan's ear with his tongue. He felt the other man shudder and then comply, the tension gradually leaving him. Methos slowly moved around the Highlander, starting to undress him. He made it clear that Duncan wasn't to try and help, just to stand quietly. And the whole time he made sure that some part of his body remained in contact with Duncan's skin, reminding him of the greater pleasures to come.
It never occurred to Duncan to resist. It felt too good to have Methos' hands moving over him, caressing and petting as they carefully divested him of his clothes. Duncan had never been on the receiving end of anything quite like this before, but it was wonderful to be constantly touched and not to have to do anything besides react to those touches. And his body was reacting... Duncan could feel his cock swelling and lengthening until his trousers felt far too tight.
Then it really didn't matter because Methos was kneeling in front of him, unfastening them and sliding them over his hips. Obediently Duncan stepped out of them and moments later a whole new sensation took him over. Methos was mouthing and licking his cock through the clinging fabric of his briefs. The added friction of the damp material against his swollen shaft felt incredible. Then, when he thought that just one more touch would be enough to send him over the edge, Methos stopped.
The old Immortal laid his cheek against Duncan's cotton-clad crotch and simply breathed in the glorious, aroused scent of him. He could tell from the tremors running through Duncan's muscles just how close he was, but he didn't want him to come yet.
Methos got up and took Duncan's hand between his own. He softly kissed the tip of each finger, his tongue tasting the calloused pads.
"Are you mine, Duncan?" he whispered, when he was done.
Deep brown eyes turned to look at him and Methos drew in a sharp breath at the trust he saw shining in them. Dear Gods, when the Highlander gave himself he did so without reservation. He was truly one of a kind, mused the ancient Immortal as the warm gaze held him fast.
"Yes, I'm yours," Duncan replied quietly. His voice was steady in spite of the pounding of his heart.
"Then lie down," Methos instructed, "and let me show you just what you have missed out on these past four centuries."
Methos bent to carefully remove the Highlander's briefs and then Duncan settled himself on the bed. When he made a move to roll over onto his stomach Methos caught hold of his arm and stopped him.
"No, I want to see your face," he said with a smile.
When Duncan was comfortable Methos lay down beside him, propped up on one elbow. Slowly and carefully he used his other hand to map out Duncan's body. He barely touched him, but the feathery caresses soon told Methos where Duncan's most sensitive spots were. Content with his explorations Methos then rolled on top of the other man, using his weight to pin him down and spread the muscular limbs where he wanted them.
Out of instinct Duncan struggled against being held down, trying to roll them both over.
Methos resisted, shaking his head. "Relax, Duncan, I thought you trusted me. Do you think I would hurt you?" he asked.
"No," Duncan admitted, and willed himself to lie still.
"Better," said Methos with an approving smile. "Much better."
With sinuous grace the old Immortal used his own body to caress Duncan's. His reawakening cock glided against the slick heat of the Highlander's. The press of their bodies applied a delicious, ever-changing pressure that soon had Duncan throwing his head back and moaning.
Methos quickly took advantage, bending his head and tasting the taut muscles in Duncan's strong neck, so temptingly bared for his pleasure. He licked away the droplets of sweat beading the tanned skin and then began to nibble at the salty flesh.
When Duncan tried to bring his hands up to touch Methos the other Immortal pressed them firmly back onto the mattress.
"Be still," he warned softly.
"But I want to touch you," Duncan protested. "I can't just lie here."
"Yes you can," Methos assured him with a smile. "And you will. It's really very simple. Just relax and let yourself feel everything I'm doing to you."
Duncan groaned, but eventually acquiesced and Methos turned his attention back to his explorations. He slid a little further down Duncan's body and nuzzled at the dark hairs under his outspread arms. A shudder ran through the Highlander at the ticklish sensation as Methos tasted the sensitive skin before moving on to Duncan's chest. Again Methos toyed with the fine, dark hairs, tugging lightly until Duncan winced. Then he soothed the hurt with long, slow sweeps of his tongue that had the younger Immortal quivering with pleasure - especially when the twin nubs of his nipples became the target.
He hadn't realised just how sensitive his nipples could be, until Methos focused all his attention on them. Soft bites and gentle suckling nearly drove Duncan mad. In the end he had to beg Methos to stop.
The old Immortal raised his head and grinned unrepentantly. He licked his lips as he studied Duncan's flushed face. Oh yes, the Highlander was quite beautiful when he abandoned himself to his passion. And Methos wasn't done with him yet, not by any means.
Sliding down still further, Methos surveyed his ultimate prize. The Highlander's cock was long and thick, its tip already pushing free of the hood of skin. Drops of sticky fluid leaked from it onto Duncan's belly.
Methos looked back up the length of Duncan's body. He met a heated dark gaze, mutely begging him for more - and soon. His tongue stole out, lapping up the spilled moisture from Duncan's stomach and the muscles quivered under his touch. Then, ignoring the hard length of Duncan's cock, Methos gently licked at his balls instead.
Duncan jumped at the moist touch on his heated skin - so close to where he really wanted it, but still not close enough. He wasn't sure how much longer he could simply lie there and wait for Methos to reach his goal. He tensed as Methos moved on, but still made no attempt to touch his begging, aching cock. Instead, the other man spread Duncan's thighs wider and tilted his hips slightly, leaving him feeling more exposed than ever. Then Methos' tongue continued on its way, licking a cool trail back, away from his balls.
The unfamiliar sensation made Duncan squirm. "Methos!" he gasped.
"Shhh," breathed the old Immortal, pausing for a moment. His breath tickled Duncan's sensitive skin, making him shiver.
Rationally Duncan knew what Methos intended to do. But there was nothing rational in his response when Methos' tongue finally found its way to the entrance to his body. Hot and slick, Methos licked the tight hole, moistening it with his saliva.
Duncan grabbed hold of the sheets, twisting the material in a near-lethal grip. When Methos licked him again Duncan's hips fought against the other Immortal's steadying grip. This was something quite outside the Highlander's experience. Nobody had ever touched him there like this - not even Amanda. It was a dark, illicit pleasure, and Duncan loved it. He desperately wanted more of it.
Methos was perfectly happy to oblige him. He spread Duncan's cheeks apart and worked the tight ring of muscle until it relaxed enough to let him inside. Methos plunged the tip of his tongue into Duncan's body and felt him start at the added sensation.
Shocked, Duncan looked down as he felt Methos' tongue enter him. It was an incredible feeling, uniquely intimate. And, coupled with the sight of Methos' dark, tousled head buried between his thighs, it finally undid Duncan. When the agile tongue penetrated him again, more deeply, the Highlander lost the last vestiges of his control. He cried out and shuddered violently as his orgasm overwhelmed him. His cock spilled hot fluid onto his belly without ever being touched and his entire body felt as if it had gone up in flames.
Methos simply held on to the Highlander's hips and enjoyed the ride. He dropped one hand to his own cock, stroking swiftly. Already aroused by the intimate scent and taste of his partner's body, it took him only a moment to follow Duncan over the precipice.
Long minutes later both men began to stir. Methos cautiously extricated himself from between Duncan's thighs, which were draped over him, heavy with pleasure-derived relaxation. He slowly slid back up the strong body, pausing to lap up the spilled semen from Duncan's stomach. The Highlander all but purred as he completed his task and snuggled in close. Warm arms carefully wrapped around him and Methos sighed contentedly. It had been quite an evening - no less enjoyable for being so unexpected.
"Thank you, Methos." Duncan's voice broke the silence, close by his ear. It was low and husky; the Highlander sounded drowsy, but well-pleased with himself.
"The pleasure was all mine, I assure you." Methos chuckled softly, feeling as content as Duncan sounded.
"Oh no, not at all," insisted Duncan, amusement threading through his words. "There was a great deal of pleasure in it for me too - even if I didn't know quite what to expect when I came here."
Methos laughed again. "You know what I meant. So, have I managed to seduce the virgin Highlander with the illicit delights of the flesh?" he teased.
Duncan flushed, but he knew the old Immortal's jibe wasn't meant unkindly. He pretended to consider the question carefully before replying. "Hm, I'm not sure... I think you may have to show me again - once or twice - just so I can be certain."
"Only once or twice?" Methos queried, a devilish glint lighting his eyes. "You think that will be enough to tell?"
"It depends what else you have to show me, Methos," said Duncan silkily.
"Oh, I can show you it all," replied Methos, his hands beginning to wander. "If you'd like..."
Duncan opened his mouth to respond, but no sound emerged.
At precisely that moment Methos had found his goal, one long finger pressing deep inside Duncan. He grinned slyly, watching the expression of surprise on Duncan's face as it slowly transmuted to pleasure.
"I'll take that as a yes..." he purred.
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