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 September 1999.
With thanks to The Krell for inspiring Methos' choice of reading matter!! ;-)
For Margaret - who knows just how Methos feels! :-)
Methos glared balefully at the file manager of his trusty laptop - well, not so trusty as all that at the moment, it turned out! No amount of staring could change the fact that his email directory was now utterly empty. Every one of his messages saved over the past few years was gone. Even worse, when he had tried to access his internet browser he'd found the same thing - his entire bookmark file was gone. And just when he'd felt in need of a little light reading to get over the annoyance of his email woes!! Methos had lost the URLs of all those intriguing sites with their hundreds upon hundreds of megabytes of fascinating speculative fiction which he'd garnered through hours of painstaking searches. He sighed deeply. It just wasn't his day!
"What's the matter, Methos?" Duncan's voice sounded from behind him.
Methos looked up to see Mac peering over his shoulder at the still irritatingly blank screen. "Hm? Oh, nothing important," said Methos quickly. Hurriedly he shut down the program and slammed down the lid of his laptop with more force than was strictly necessary. He didn't want Mac gloating as the Highlander had often chided him about backing up his files and he had chosen to ignore him. Well, he'd never had a problem before...
"Oh, really?" Duncan enquired casually. "Are you sure? I thought you had a whole list of web sites there before..."
Methos turned on the couch and glared at him accusingly. "What?! Have you been snooping through my computer?" he demanded angrily.
"No, no," Duncan said soothingly. "I wouldn't do that - but if you will leave your programs open at certain - intriguing places..." he added mischievously.
"What have you been reading?" Methos groaned.
"Hm, well, there was this one epic story you seemed to be in the middle of a while back. I just happened to notice you had the site open a few times," Mac teased, his dark eyes glittering. "It was really rather well written, though I didn't know your - literary tastes ran in that direction. As I recall it was all about this enigmatic desert prince and his slave - who seemed to be from the Highlands... as far as I could tell from the few quick glances I got at the screen. Quite inventive!"
"Oh shit!" muttered Methos, burying his face in his hands and wishing the couch would suddenly swallow him whole. He really should have been more careful! "Mac, it was just a bit of fun - the imagination of some people, you know. I found the site quite by accident. It's not what you think..."
"Don't you dare go all coy on me now, Methos," said Duncan sternly. "It's exactly what I think. All I want to know is why you've been reading all this stuff, but have never said a word to me. Didn't you think you could handle the real thing?"
Methos looked up to find a pair of intense brown eyes just inches from his own. Was Mac saying what Methos thought he was saying? If so... Well, there were certain challenges Methos never turned down - and this was one of them. Time for Mac to put up or shut up! Turning his head slightly Methos pressed his lips to the deliciously pouting mouth that hovered so close to his own. He wasn't disappointed. The taste of Duncan exploded through his senses. Carefully, Methos traced the outline of Duncan's lips with the tip of his tongue. They parted under his gentle assault and Methos deepened the kiss. He eagerly explored the moist depths of Duncan's mouth, tangling his tongue with the Highlander's.
Finally Duncan broke the kiss. Panting hard he demanded, "Bed... now!"
Methos was in no mind to disagree. Duncan wasn't sure that he'd ever seen the old Immortal move so fast before, as he crossed the distance between the couch and the bed. They tumbled down onto the wide divan in a tangle of arms and legs. After a brief struggle Duncan emerged on top, grinning down at Methos triumphantly.
"This Highland slave just made a successful bid for freedom," he crowed.
"Enjoy it while you can, MacLeod," Methos instructed him, narrowing his eyes dangerously.
Duncan leaned down, nipping at the pale skin of Methos' throat. Methos groaned as the voracious mouth found all his sensitive spots with ease. Damn, but Mac was good at this! Maybe there was something to be said for a degree of strategic submission after all. Methos tilted his head back, allowing Duncan freer access to his slender neck.
The Highlander was happy to take advantage of it. He lapped at the hollow of Methos' throat, tasting the salty sweat which had begun to gather there. Then his tongue traced a path to the exquisitely sensitive spot just behind the old Immortal's earlobe. As Methos began to writhe under him Duncan delicately licked around the whorl of Methos' ear. As he dipped the tip of his tongue inside, mimicking a more intimate penetration, Methos moaned with frustration.
The sensations were glorious, but Methos needed more. First, and most specifically, he needed to get out of his clothes. The pressure of tight denim on his now very swollen cock was moving from stimulating to agonising very rapidly. And Duncan's weight pressing down on him wasn't helping. With a strong surge of his hips Methos dislodged the Highlander from his position and tipped him onto the mattress at his side.
Duncan began to protest - until he saw what Methos was doing. The old Immortal was hurriedly stripping off his clothes, revealing the slender, muscled strength of his body to Duncan's avid gaze. Sitting up Mac began to match him garment for garment.
Very quickly both men were naked. They spent a brief moment taking in the view and then tackled one another again. Their mouths fused in another hungry kiss as their bodies tangled in a frantic embrace.
Methos slid a hand up to the back of Duncan's head, releasing the thick, dark mane from its clasp. As Duncan's hair swung free Methos dug his fingers deep into it, using the grip to pull Duncan closer.
In response Duncan ran his hands across the smooth skin of Methos' back. His blunt fingertips kneaded the taut muscles until Methos groaned against his lips. The massage left Methos boneless and Duncan took advantage of the old Immortal's relaxation by toppling him back onto the mattress. Duncan followed him down, grinding their hips together in a fiercely sensual dance.
With a growl of pleasure Methos clasped his legs around Duncan's waist, pulling the Highlander in closer. "Any time you want to fuck me is fine with me," hissed Methos, his voice deep and husky with arousal.
He raised his head and latched his mouth onto Duncan's neck, biting and sucking at the tanned flesh for a long moment. Methos surveyed the resulting bruise - fading almost at once - with a pleased smile. He derived a deeply primal pleasure from marking Duncan as his own, however briefly.
Duncan responded to the sensual tone of Methos' voice and his satisfied smile. He bent his head, raining kisses on Methos' face, throat and chest. The old Immortal tasted wonderful and Duncan couldn't get enough of him, but if Methos wanted to be fucked, then Duncan certainly wanted to fuck him. The Highlander reached out and fumbled in his bedside table for a bottle of massage oil he knew was there. He retrieved it and sat back on his heels, straddling the old Immortal's hips.
It was the first time Duncan had got a good look at Methos' groin. They seemed to have skipped the preliminaries in their hurry! Methos' cock was fully hard, the tip leaking fluid onto the old Immortal's belly. Duncan simply had to reach down and curve his fingers around the temptingly thick length. It filled his palm and Duncan began to stroke the swollen flesh firmly.
"Fuck!" Methos swore with feeling as pleasure spiked through his body at the touch. "MacLeod, you can play with that all you like later! Right now I just want you to fuck me!!"
"Impatient, aren't you," said Duncan, his dark eyes glittering. He had Methos right where he wanted him and wasn't planning on letting go. He ignored the furious stream of curses Methos let fly as he dropped the bottle of oil onto the bed. Duncan used his free hand to cup Methos' balls. He kneaded them gently as he kept up his firm strokes on Methos' cock.
Then Methos was beyond speaking as the pleasure crested. He bucked up into Duncan's hands as he came. His cock pulsed its creamy fluid onto his stomach as Methos let the intense sensations flow over him. As the feelings ebbed Duncan stroked him more gently, finally releasing his spent cock. Methos lay back limply, breathing hard. Damn, but that had felt good - no, better than good; it had been amazing!
Duncan bent down and kissed Methos' slightly parted lips. He loved the faintly dazed expression on the old man's face! Settling back on his heels Duncan found the bottle of oil and opened it. He poured some into his palm and coated his own cock liberally with it. Then he trailed his oil-slick fingers around Methos' balls and down beneath them, finding a path to the puckered ring of muscle. The old Immortal was still relaxed and Duncan was able to breach his body with relative ease. Methos angled his hips co-operatively and Duncan's fingers slid in deeper. He stretched the tight passage until Methos glared at him impatiently and then he withdrew his hand.
It took a little rearranging to find a comfortable position for them both, but Duncan quickly accomplished it. Then with one hand steadying his cock Duncan pressed forward until the tip of it was sheathed in the welcoming heat of Methos' body. He would have gone slowly, but Methos had other ideas. The old Immortal used the strength of his legs to pull Duncan close in a single abrupt movement.
Two voices groaned in harmony as Duncan slid deep inside Methos. For a long moment they were both still, adjusting to the new state of affairs. Then Duncan began to move. He pulled back, his cock withdrawing from Methos' body in a long, smooth glide. Then with a powerful thrust he pressed deep into Methos again.
The old Immortal gave voice to another moan of pleasure as Duncan's cock found his prostate. Duncan rode him hard and Methos loved every moment of it. The loss of his computer files suddenly didn't seem at all important if this was the recompense it brought. The most skilfully worded story couldn't compare with the down and dirty, sweaty reality of Duncan MacLeod pounding into his body, fucking him within an inch of his life!!
Above him Duncan tensed as he felt his climax begin to overwhelm him. He reached down and grasped Methos' reawakened cock as he thrust into the lithe body a final time and came. The pleasure washed over him and Duncan surrendered to it. He sent up a brief, silent prayer to whichever god of technology had seen fit to wipe Methos' files.
The feeling of Duncan's seed warm inside him, coupled with the spasmodic clenching of Duncan's hand around his cock was enough to bring Methos a second release. He drifted in a vague, blissful state until the limp weight of an utterly spent Highlander slumped forward onto his chest. Methos felt the breath knocked out of him as Duncan collapsed in a sweaty, sleepy heap.
"Oooph! Mac!" Methos hissed.
"Wha'?" Duncan turned bleary eyes on the old Immortal.
"I can't bloody well breathe!" groused Methos, trying to dislodge Duncan's weight from on top of his body.
"Oh. Sorry," Duncan mumbled and rolled off of Methos. He promptly curled into the other Immortal's side and fell asleep.
"So much for romance," muttered Methos as Duncan's breathing evened out into the deep cadences of sleep. "It's never like this in the stories I read!"
Methos glanced across at Duncan's dishevelled form and smiled fondly. All the same, he decided, he definitely preferred the reality - snoring and all - to the fiction. There might be thousands of stories out there on the net - and if he wanted to he could no doubt track his favourite sites down and bookmark them again - but there was only one Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. And that was all Methos needed.
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