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 February 1999.

AUTHOR'S NOTE - This story picks up right at the end of the episode "The Messenger".

This is unbetaed; any errors are mine - mea culpa.


(...To Immortals Who Wait)

"Later," Methos called back over his shoulder as he headed out the door of the loft. Behind him he had left Duncan and Richie alone together. For all the lighthearted byplay with Richie on the way out, Methos had sensed that the pair needed some time to indulge in something of a heart to heart. All things considered it was hardly surprising, not after Richie's rude awakening from the dreams of peace fed to him by the 'other' Methos. Richie could so easily have wound up minus his head. As a result, there had been a slightly awkward atmosphere in the loft - and did that also have anything to do with Richie finding out who he really was, Methos wondered? - so it wasn't a conversation he felt he had an invite to. Which left him at something of a loose end - again. It was becoming something of a regular occurence on this trip.

The genuine article sighed as he reached the street. Three cheers for peace, love and understanding - just look where they got you! Well, in the case of his doppelganger they'd got him his head cut off, thought Methos dryly. And better him than me! As for himself, they'd apparently managed to rob him of the chance of getting Mac's undivided attention yet again. It really was getting too damned frustrating, and after he'd had such high hopes for this visit... Gods, he needed a drink!

Briefly Methos considered calling in at Joe's, but if there was one thing he hated it was sitting in a bar alone. Look what had happened the last time he was there too. One after another Richie, Mac and Joe had abandoned him to his own devices. He had to be losing his touch, reflected Methos irritably. And was it socks or sex I was thinking of buying that night? Damn MacLeod anyway! Methos found it in him to be amused by his self pity. Gods, old man, you have got it bad for Mac... Having admitted that much to himself Methos decided that if he was going to have to drink alone he'd much rather do so in the privacy of his own apartment.

Digging his hands deep into his jeans' pockets Methos glanced up at the loft wistfully for a moment then turned to make his way home. As he walked Methos found himself thinking again about the much anticipated heart to heart with Duncan that had so far failed to happen, though not for want of trying on Methos' part. All in all his homecoming really hadn't worked out the way Methos had been hoping it would.

Months had slipped away while Methos hiked around Tibet and Nepal. The latest shambles with the Watchers had left him badly in need of time alone to think and recharge his batteries. Methos had been entirely serious when he told Joe he no longer knew who he was - Adam Pierson the Watcher or Methos the Immortal. However, once again secure in his identity, Methos had genuinely been looking forward to his return.

While he'd been away the oldest Immortal had had the time to realise that the quiet life wasn't always everything it was cracked up to be. Life around Duncan MacLeod might be complicated at times, but it was certainly never dull. The truth was, Methos had missed the Highlander. It hadn't been that long before Methos' retreat that their friendship had deepened into something more intimate and the prospect of resuming those aspects of his relationship with Duncan had been a pleasant one indeed.

Oh yes, Methos had had plans when he arrived back in Seacouver. So much so that he hadn't bothered with going to his own apartment on his return, but had headed straight for the loft instead. Wanting to surprise Duncan - well, as much as it was possible to do so with another Immortal - Methos had let himself in with the key Mac had given him on his previous visit.

A little disappointed at not finding Duncan at home, Methos had quickly made himself comfortable while he waited for him. Sprawled out invitingly on the wide bed with soft music playing on the stereo and a cold beer in his hand all had seemed very much right with the world - until Mac actually arrived home.
Then, instead of climbing straight into bed with Methos, Duncan had promptly proceeded to drag him into the middle of the whole sorry mess with Richie, Culbraith and the 'other' Methos. All things considered, as a welcome home it fell far short of Methos' expectations. In fact, Mac had barely even taken the time to say hello first, let alone give any indication that he was actually pleased to see Methos.
Come to think of it, Mac had been pretty pissed off initially, when he'd believed it was Methos who'd been spreading the word to Richie! And even when he'd discovered it wasn't, Duncan's mood hadn't improved greatly. In the circumstances the oldest Immortal had decided not to pursue his efforts to coax Mac into bed. Instead, hiding his disappointment behind his customary cynicism, he had gone along with Duncan's efforts to save Richie's neck by revealing himself to the kid as the real Methos.

Of course, nothing was ever simple around Duncan MacLeod and it hadn't helped. Richie had gone his own way and laid down his sword. As a result, all Duncan's attention had been focused on his concern for Richie and his own desire to kill Culbraith. Methos supposed it was understandable, but it had meant that Duncan had precious little time to spare for him - except when he wanted Methos to do something. There had certainly been no further opportunity for Methos to try and talk to Mac about their own relationship. In an effort to distract himself from his fixation on MacLeod he'd even gone to talk to his doppelganger - not an especially rewarding experience in Methos' estimation. The man clearly had no idea of the realities of surviving for 5000 years!

Methos sighed again as he finally reached his apartment and let himself in. He retrieved a beer from the fridge and settled down in his favourite chair to brood. Gods, thought Methos irritably, now he was even starting to pick up the damned Highlander's bad habits! He didn't want to sit here and analyse his bad mood; he just wanted to get blind drunk and forget about the cause of it.

Deep down Methos knew he was being petty and selfish about the whole thing. It wasn't like he had a monopoly on MacLeod's time or anything. And, of course, Richie was not just Mac's ex-student. Whether Duncan admitted it to himself or not, Methos had long suspected Mac saw Richie more as a surrogate son. His over-protectiveness during the situation with Kristin had been a good indication of that. It was in no way surprising that Duncan had been so concerned over this latest threat to Richie's safety.

All the same, that didn't stop Methos from feeling very much out of the loop. He'd been away for months, and yet Mac treated his return as if it were nothing to him. True, he hadn't actually told Mac before he left where he was going or when he might be back... Still, Duncan had known him long enough to know he sometimes pulled these disappearing acts when he needed his own space for a while. And the thing with the Watchers had shaken Mac up badly too; he had probably appreciated the time to think as well. Surely that couldn't be the reason for MacLeod's standoffishness, could it?

Methos cast his mind back. Before he left he'd been sure he meant something to Duncan. Just one kiss and an 'I've missed you, Methos' somewhere along the line to mark his return would have been reassuring. And nice, he thought wistfully. Oh, Methos had had no illusions about it being the romance of the century or anything, but being with Duncan had felt - comfortable somehow. And there was no denying the sex had been great too... at least Methos had thought so. Now, given Mac's reticence, Methos wondered if Duncan hadn't enjoyed it as much as he'd believed. Was that what Mac was trying, not so subtly, to tell him? That he'd had second thoughts about the physical side of their friendship?

That thought pulled Methos up short. It would explain Duncan's behaviour, but then again so might plenty of other things. It was still possible that Methos had managed to screw everything up all by himself by disappearing off into the wild blue yonder the way he had. Had Mac been expecting something more from him? Or did MacLeod think Methos didn't want to pursue their relationship because of the way he had left? Damn, why was everything so bloody complicated where the Highlander was concerned?

Methos abruptly came to the conclusion that he didn't want to think about it any more. Trying to second guess MacLeod only gave him a headache anyway. Another beer seemed a much better proposition. If Mac wanted to play hard to get, so be it. That was just fine with Methos. He'd managed quite satisfactorily without Mac in his bed before. He could do so again.

By the time he had emptied his fridge of beer and gone looking for something stronger, Methos had almost convinced himself to believe it.


The sound of someone pounding on his front door, together with the buzz of another Immortal's presence, rudely woke Methos from an alcohol induced sleep.

"All right, I'm coming," he muttered irritatedly as he levered himself out of his chair. He still retained sufficient presence of mind to pick up his sword as he headed for the door. Methos glanced in passing at the impressive collection of empty beer bottles on his floor. Ah, yes, that explained the headache...

When he finally fumbled with the lock and opened the door the last person Methos expected to find outside was Duncan MacLeod. He stared at his visitor across the naked blade of his broadsword in surprise. What was Mac doing here? It had to be the middle of the night. MacLeod stepped around the drawn sword without waiting for an invitation and Methos found himself automatically pushing the door shut behind his unexpected guest. Then he trailed along behind Mac until the Highlander stopped short, catching sight of the room's new decor.

"Looks like I missed one hell of a party," Duncan observed, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Oh, you did," agreed Methos with a cool smile that didn't reach his eyes. He was just drunk enough and tired enough to forgo any pretence of hospitality. Carelessly Methos tossed his sword onto the table before continuing. "Thought I'd throw myself a welcome home bash. Didn't you get the invite?"

"Apparently not..." Duncan eyed his clearly inebriated friend with some concern. The icy tone of voice wasn't like Methos at all.

"Pity. Well, I'd offer you a beer, Mac, but I'm afraid I haven't got any. Sorry," said Methos with a distinct lack of sincerity.

"Methos, what is this all about?" asked Duncan, confused. "Have I done something to make you angry with me? If I have for God's sake tell me. I can't figure out what it is."

"Angry? Me? No, you have to care to be angry." Methos gave a bitter laugh. "And you know me, MacLeod, I don't give a damn about anything or anyone. Surely you remember me telling you that. You only get hurt if you care. Better not to have any... expectations, that way you can't be disappointed."

Duncan frowned, wondering what the hell had got into his friend - aside from far too much beer. Methos had seemed fine when he left the loft, kidding around with Richie. But now...?

"I really don't have any idea what the problem is here, Methos," Mac admitted. "I guess it must be all this beer talking, but..." Duncan started as Methos' hands suddenly grabbed his shoulders in a bruising grip.

"No, apparently you don't have any idea," hissed Methos angrily.

A tiny, rational voice in the back of his mind told him to shut the hell up before he made things even worse, but the rest of his brain was on a roll. Resolutely Methos ignored what his good sense was trying to tell him. Righteous indignation felt a whole lot better!

"I obviously misjudged you, MacLeod," continued the old Immortal. "It appears you're so used to coming home to find unexpected guests lying on your bed that you don't even give it a second thought any more! Oh, don't tell me, Amanda was in town. How is the little vixen anyway? No, that's beside the point... The point is that I suppose it's all got so routine for you that it wouldn't occur to you that I - they might be there for a reason; that they might be expecting somewhat more of a welcome home than... Oh, damn it, Mac!!!"

Methos' tirade finally ran out of steam. Shaking his head the oldest Immortal reined in his tongue before he incriminated himself any further. It was too late to take the words back, though, the dawning light of comprehension was in Mac's eyes.

"That's what this is all about?" he exclaimed, more than a little surprised.

Mac hadn't realised Methos had been expecting, planning... And added to that, unless he was much mistaken, it sounded like Methos was jealous of Amanda! All the pieces fell into place and the old Immortal's behaviour finally made sense to Duncan. Oh!!

"Yes, that is what it's about!" Methos retorted in annoyance. He frowned. Why did Mac seem to find it so bloody surprising? Stupid question! Sometimes MacLeod couldn't see the end of his own nose for looking!!

"Methos..." Duncan began tentatively. He wasn't given a chance to continue, though.

"Let me make this simple for you, MacLeod. I'd been away for months. I wanted to see you - Gods alone know why - and I didn't even get a straightforward 'it's good to see you, Methos' for my pains! Oh no, I get a diatribe about my late, unlamented doppelganger and the perils of giving peace a chance," Methos complained.

"Methos..." Duncan tried again, once more without success.

"Now, forgive me if my expectations were a little high, but you might have been just a bit more sensitive to my feelings. I mean, if you weren't interested any more you could have just..."

The old Immortal paused for a moment and Duncan took his chance to jump in once again. This time he was determined to have his say.


"What?!" Methos glared at MacLeod.

"Will you just shut up and listen for a minute?" insisted Duncan.

"I don't know why I should," muttered Methos with a long-suffering sigh. "Oh, all right, anything for a quiet life."

"Good!" MacLeod raised his dark eyes heavenward. "Damn it, Methos, you can be a real pain in the ass when you've had too much to drink!"

"Thanks for the character reference, now what do you want to...? Mmph!!" Methos was abruptly silenced as Mac leaned forward and captured his mouth for a very thorough kiss. When MacLeod was finally done Methos stepped back and blinked at him in confusion. "What was that for?"

"Oh, to say I'm sorry - and by way of a rather belated welcome home." Duncan gave the older Immortal a quick hug. "And just to let you know I did miss you - even if you didn't take the time to tell me you were going in the first place."

"You did?" Methos still sounded a little doubtful.

"Mmm hm, strange as it may seem," Mac admitted with a teasing smile. "I guess I got used to having you around and I wondered when you might show up again."

"Well, it's hardly a declaration of undying love, MacLeod..."

"You wouldn't know what to do if I offered you one!" snorted Mac. "More than likely you'd run straight back to Katmandu!"

"Yeah, you're probably right," agreed Methos, but there was an unexpected note of wistfulness in his voice that took Duncan by surprise. Had the old man invested more of himself in this relationship than Mac had realised?

"Look, Methos," Mac began again, more seriously this time. "I know I haven't exactly been the best of company these past few days, but..."

"But you were worried about Richie and caught up in all this mess and the bad memories stirred up by Culbraith. I know. I'm the one who should be apologising. And what I said earlier - it was just the drink talking. Pay no attention to it." Methos sighed. He was by now actually quite sober again. "No surprise really, but I guess I can be something of a selfish bastard, right?"

"Don't, Methos... You were feeling left out. You were disappointed your homecoming plans didn't work out as intended." Duncan shrugged off Methos' self-recriminations. "I understand that."

"It's fine, Mac - all forgotten - no need for any Scots guilt trips on my account."

"So, am I forgiven then?"

Methos pretended to consider the matter. His gaze took in the inviting smile on Duncan's lips and the perfect puppy dog expression in his dark eyes. Mac certainly knew what buttons to push...

"My, my, aren't we certain of our charms," Methos taunted, though not unkindly. In truth, he was just grateful Mac was still talking to him after his outburst. But things could definitely use a little lightening up, the old Immortal decided.

"Well, you were planning to seduce me your first day back, I assume." Mac grinned, grateful that Methos seemed to have snapped out of his dark mood.

"Yeah, I guess I was." Methos ruffled Mac's long hair affectionately. "Seems I could use a little practice, though."

"What can I say? I was preoccupied. Any other day I'd have figured out what you were up to and been in that bed with you like a shot!" Mac shook his head at his own stupidity.

"Oh yeah?"


"So you admit it then? You only want me for my body."

"What else would I want with an old grouch like you? It can't be your sparkling conversation!"

"Thanks," muttered Methos wryly. "So, would you care to put your money where your mouth is then, MacLeod? Hm?"

Methos stepped closer. He could feel the answer in Duncan's responsive body without having to wait for the words to confirm it. His own body was responding too. Celibacy was all well and good - in small doses - and Methos had several months to his credit. As a result, the prospect of sex with Duncan MacLeod was now a thousand times sweeter.

Mac was watching his partner thoughtfully. "I don't know about that," he remarked in answer to Methos' question, "but I can think of a few places I'd certainly like to put my mouth."

"Oh? Such as?" enquired Methos casually.

"Here..." Duncan bent his head and began gently kissing and nibbling the oldest Immortal's neck.

A sensual shiver ran through Methos' lithe body and he sighed contentedly. His head tilted back a little, offering Duncan easier access to the sensitive spots at the base of Methos' long, graceful neck.

"Mmm, good choice, Mac. Got any other bright ideas?"

"Plenty," Duncan murmured, his hands dropping to cup Methos' buttocks and pull the other Immortal firmly against him. This time Methos' response was a helpless groan. Mac grinned. "Oh yeah, I'm positively full of good ideas..."

"Aren't there - other things you'd like to be full of?" Methos asked breathlessly.

"Did you have anything in particular in mind?" Duncan rather hoped so.

"Come to bed and I'll show you exactly what I had in mind," Methos offered with a seductive smile.

"Mmm, best offer I've had in a long time..." Mac teased as he let the other Immortal pull him over to the bed.

With the question asked and answered Methos gave his desire for the Highlander free rein. Quickly he divested himself and then Duncan of their clothes. There was precious little finesse to the procedure, but Mac didn't seem to mind. Given the circumstances Methos' eagerness was understandable and Duncan's own enthusiasm was easily a match for the old Immortal's.

Now that the obstacle of their clothing had been dealt with Mac tumbled them both onto the bed. He rolled them over so Methos lay on his back with Duncan covering him like a living blanket. Then Mac captured Methos' lips roughly with his own, kissing the older Immortal hungrily.

Far from objecting to the cavalier treatment, Methos gave every appearance of relishing it. He parted his lips willingly as Mac plunged his tongue deep into Methos' mouth, exploring its moist sweetness thoroughly.

Methos closed his eyes and savoured the forceful kiss, responding with equal hunger. Needing to play his own part in building their pleasure Methos let his hands roam. He massaged slowly down the long sweep of Duncan's back, beginning at the broad shoulders and working his way down to the firmly muscled buttocks. Having reached their goal, Methos' long fingers began to knead steadily until Mac's hips were thrusting up into his touch enthusiastically. And with each downward movement Mac's erection slid against Methos' groin, leaving the old Immortal breathless.

Not wanting to come quite yet - tempting as it was to give in to the building pleasure - Methos pulled his mouth free of Duncan's. He drew in a steadying breath.

"Slow down," he cautioned, gripping Mac's hips hard to still them. "At this rate I'll have nothing left to show you!" The hazel eyes glinted mischievously as they locked with Duncan's.

Mac grinned back and slid off of Methos onto the bed. Making himself comfortable Duncan propped himself up on one elbow beside Methos. He let his gaze encompass the whole of Methos' long, lean body, lingering for a moment on the hard, slick length of the other Immortal's cock. Mac licked his lips appreciatively, then curved them in a sly smile.

"I've said it before, Methos, and you keep proving me right. You old guys just have no staying power," Mac taunted him. Methos snorted inelegantly in response.

"We shall see! I think an 'old guy' like me can still teach a 400 year old kid a few tricks - and better manners besides..." Methos appeared to relish the challenge. He eyed Duncan speculatively.

"Oh yeah?" Mac was still teasing, pushing the buttons and waiting to see what Methos would do. Whatever it turned out to be, Duncan anticipated it would be highly enjoyable.

"Yeah!" Judging his moment, Methos launched himself at Duncan. He pushed him onto his back and before Duncan could react Methos had let his momentum carry him forward so that he had Mac pinned down. Pushing up, Methos sat back on his heels and straddled Duncan's hips. The old Immortal gave a pleased smile as his hard cock nestled against Mac's equally firm flesh. Mac tried to thrust against him, but Methos ignored the possibilities offered by this serendipitous positioning. Instead his fingers sought out Mac's nipples, pinching lightly.

"You'll have to do better than that," murmured Duncan. The insistent touches to his chest felt good, but the friction of their cocks against one another would have been better still. Methos resisted Mac's efforts to rub against him, though. Duncan didn't know what other tricks Methos might have up his sleeve, but he hoped the old man stopped playing hard to get soon.

"Oh, I intend to..." By way of demonstration Methos leaned down and replaced his fingertips with his mouth. He suckled each of the dark nubs of flesh in turn until both were taut and glistening with saliva.

Mac was clearly breathing a little harder now, his composure showing signs of being ruffled. Noting the fact, Methos smiled down at his prey. The old Immortal ground his hips against Duncan's for a brief moment, tormenting him with the promise of other pleasures to come. But when Mac tried for more, arching against him, Methos slid back and braced himself just out of Mac's reach. Methos savoured Duncan's groan of frustration before setting to work again.

This time Methos used his teeth to torment Duncan's now highly sensitised nipples and the soft bites brought a sharply indrawn breath from Mac. Next Methos brought his hands back into play, drawing them lightly down Mac's chest to his stomach and back again. He scrupulously avoided going too close to Mac's cock, despite the temptation - some things were worth waiting for... Methos repeated his caress and Duncan shuddered at the ticklish sensation.

"That's not playing fair!" he gasped.

Methos raised his head and grinned evilly at Duncan. "Who said anything about playing fair, MacLeod?"

With that Methos resumed his tickling until Mac was writhing under him and begging for mercy. They were both laughing like mischievous children as Duncan tried, without success, to retaliate. He was flushed and out of breath when Methos finally relented.

Mac had only a momentary respite, though, as the old Immortal changed tactics. Methos bent forward and began to ravish Mac's mouth instead. Duncan kissed back with fervour and they spent a long moment tasting one another, their tongues tangling intimately.

Eventually Methos pulled away and Duncan flopped down against the pillows. He was breathing hard. Methos caught his breath too as he sat back and admired the tanned, beautifully muscled body trapped between his thighs.

Duncan knew he was being watched and his lips twisted in faint amusement. The old man was practically devouring him with his eyes! Mac had to admit, though, that the frankly appreciative stare was highly arousing, as tangible as a caress.

"Enjoying the view?" he asked, moistening his suddenly dry lips with the tip of his tongue.

"Mmm, you could say that..." Methos agreed. He let his gaze dwell for a moment on the moist trail left by Duncan's tongue as it traced the outline of his lips. Then Methos' eyes travelled slowly from Mac's face all the way down to his crotch.

"I won't complain if you feel like doing more than just look," Duncan hinted.

"Glad to hear it," Methos grinned. He'd teased the Highlander for long enough. As enjoyable a pastime as it was, it was time to make good on his promises. "I wasn't planning on getting any complaints..."

With that Methos scooted back and then leaned down to take Mac's long, fully erect cock between his lips. Duncan gasped at the sudden sensation of Methos' warm, wet mouth surrounding him. It was certainly true enough that he had no inclination to complain though!

Methos began a firm, rhythmic sucking that quickly brought Duncan to the brink of orgasm. He had no intention of letting Mac slide over the edge so soon, though. Instead Methos released Duncan from his mouth. Before the younger Immortal could protest his withdrawal Methos began to lick and nibble at the thick shaft until Mac was on the verge of screaming in frustration.

Delicately Methos tasted the slick moisture leaking from the tip of Duncan's penis. The swirling path of his tongue drew a helpless moan from Duncan. Satisfied with the reaction Methos quickly engulfed Mac's cock in his mouth once more. With his hands Methos encouraged Duncan to thrust deep into his throat.

Mac gave up all pretence of control. It simply felt too good to be fucking that clever mouth - for once blissfully silent. This time Methos didn't halt Duncan's climb to the peak, and in a matter of moments Mac froze under him as the pleasure exploded. Methos eagerly accepted Duncan's offering as he came, sucking Mac dry before releasing his softening cock.

As the aftershocks slowly subsided Duncan slumped bonelessly on the bed. He looked up at Methos dazedly. God, but the old man was good at that!

"No complaints," Mac finally managed to say. Methos merely grinned at him smugly.

"I should hope not," he smirked. "I've had 5000 years to practise." Duncan didn't dignify the comment with a response!

When he had recovered a little Duncan pushed up on his elbows and reached up to kiss Methos. Methos responded lazily, twining his tongue with Mac's and sharing the Highlander's own taste with him. Duncan sighed contentedly, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. As he pressed closer to the older Immortal, Duncan became aware of Methos' cock, still hard and unsatisfied between them.

"Saving this for something special?" Mac asked as he dropped a hand down to encircle the engorged flesh.

Methos' eyes met and held Duncan's, only inches away. They were all dark pupil, heavy-lidded with desire. "Perhaps someone special..."

For a second Duncan felt as if he were drowning. Methos' velvet-smooth voice and intent gaze were momentarily overwhelming. Duncan suddenly felt the full impact of Methos' 5000 years of existence. All of it was focused on him as those ancient, fathomless eyes stared into his. Then the intensity faded and it was just Methos, his enigmatic friend, looking back at him and frowning quizzically.

Duncan realised his hand had stilled, but retained its light grip on Methos' penis. Mac smiled apologetically and began to stroke the heated flesh slowly but firmly. Methos gasped and Duncan felt him tense sharply at the renewed pressure.

"Whatever you want, Methos," Duncan murmured against the other Immortal's soft, warm lips.

"Oh, Gods, I hope you really mean that, Mac," Methos groaned, the words slipping out between kisses. In fact Methos had some very specific ideas about what he wanted from Duncan.

"Mmm hm," agreed Duncan as he laid a trail of kisses from Methos' mouth, along his jaw and down to his slender neck. "Just tell me - anything."

"Maybe we should fight more often," said Methos with a sudden sly smile. "I think I like it when you're this co-operative."

"Make the most of it," Duncan advised darkly, "next time it might be my sword not my mouth at your throat."

"Ooooh, promises promises, Highlander!" Methos teased, his hazel eyes sparkling. "Don't tell me you never realised how much it turns me on when you do that...?"

Duncan drew back, eyebrows raised, trying to decide if Methos was serious or not. With the old man it wasn't always easy to tell. Nevertheless, Mac filed away the comment for future reference.

Methos grinned, knowing he'd caught Duncan off guard. Let him wonder! It could add considerable spice to their future sparring sessions. Methos decided now was probably also a good time to let the Highlander know what it was he wanted from him. He slid one of his own hands down to cover Duncan's where it still lightly stroked the older Immortal's cock.

"Well," Methos purred, "seeing that you're so amenable tonight, Mac, I can think of better things to do with this." Leaning forward slowly, Methos used his weight to push Duncan back flat onto the bed again.

"Oh really?" enquired Duncan archly. "And what might they be? I suppose I could repay you in kind..."

"Some other time, Mac. Think again." Methos adjusted his position, insinuating himself between Duncan's strong thighs. Grinning down ferally at Mac, Methos began to thrust his hips suggestively. As a result his cock slid between their entwined hands with a pleasing friction. "Maybe this will jog your memory," Methos continued. "Only I was thinking of putting it somewhere much tighter and warmer than your fist."

"You want to play guessing games, eh?" Mac's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Do I win something if I guess right?"

"Ohhh, I think we both win if you get it right." The old Immortal's lazy smile sent a delicious shiver down Duncan's spine.

"Hm, well, I love puzzles so I'm sure I'll get to the bottom of this one sooner or later," Mac deadpanned. Methos snorted with laughter.

"Sooner would be good," he suggested mildly.

"Have you got some oil or something?" Duncan murmured, relenting from his teasing.

Methos reached across to rummage in the drawer of his bedside table, but came up empty-handed. "Damn, not to hand," he replied, exasperated. He really hadn't been planning to have this rendezvous here! On further consideration Methos remembered last having seen the bottle in his bathroom cabinet. Well, it could damn well stay there! "Too bad, I have no intention of moving from this bed," Methos informed his partner. "Just use your initiative, MacLeod - you're the damned boy scout after all!"

Duncan gave the older Immortal a measuring look. Between Methos and Amanda that particular joke was definitely starting to wear a bit thin. Whatever, Methos certainly did seem well ensconced... Mac decided to go back to basics. Carefully he extricated the hand he had wrapped around Methos' penis, drawing the other Immortal's hand away too. Duncan checked Methos' long fingers, but they were quite dry. In contrast, Mac's own hand was damp from its contact with Methos' cock.

Instead of using his slippery fingers to prepare Methos for their joining, though, Duncan felt another impulse overtake him. He brought his hand up and brushed the slick fingertips against Methos' lips. The old Immortal raised an eyebrow, but Mac smiled at him and repeated the caress.

Bowing to Duncan's wishes, Methos opened his mouth to let Mac slide his fingers inside. As he closed his lips around them Methos was unprepared for the electric jolt that went straight to his groin. The taste of his own pre-come on Duncan's hand was more erotic than Methos had anticipated and he closed his eyes to better absorb the sensation. Methos curled his tongue around Mac's blunt fingers, licking them clean.

Shakily Methos released Duncan's hand as he realised he had no more patience to wait for his prize. He raised his own hand to his mouth instead. Quickly and thoroughly the old Immortal moistened the fingers with his saliva.

Sitting back on his heels Methos encouraged Duncan to let his legs fall to either side. Grasping Mac's hips Methos angled them until he could more easily reach the puckered opening which was his goal. One slick finger circled the tight ring of muscle until it relaxed slightly, then dipped inside. With as much restraint as he could muster Methos prepared Duncan, stretching him - first with the single finger and then adding a second. Finally satisfied that Mac was ready for him Methos gave his penis several quick strokes. He spread the moisture that had gathered again at the tip down the thick shaft, slicking it as thoroughly as he could.

Carefully Methos leaned forward, guiding his cock to the opening of Duncan's body. He hesitated, but Mac wound his legs around the old Immortal's waist, pulling him abruptly closer. The sudden movement let Methos slide inside the tight channel and both Immortals gasped at the flood of sensations.

Duncan was breathing deeply, adjusting to the intrusion and Methos held still to give him the time he needed. After a few moments Mac's dark eyes locked with Methos' and he nodded quickly.

Taking the gesture as permission to continue Methos pushed further into the soft warmth of Duncan's body. He took it slowly, not wanting to cause the younger Immortal any pain. In their lovemaking before it had most often been Mac who took the dominant role. His body was less accustomed to being penetrated like this.

Though Methos had only rarely made love to Duncan this way in the admittedly short span of their physical relationship, it wasn't that Mac never offered. It was simply that Methos liked to feel the Highlander buried deep inside him and encouraged him to indulge that preference at every opportunity. Tonight, though, Methos enjoyed the reversal of their usual roles. It felt good to be thrusting into Mac's body, feeling the clasp of the muscles contracting around his cock. Methos stepped up the pace, sliding harder and deeper into Mac and touching his prostate with every stroke.

Duncan gave voice to a moan of pleasure at the increased stimulation. He flexed his muscles, meeting each of Methos' thrusts with one of his own. He was relishing being the one fucked for once every bit as much as Methos was clearly loving fucking him. Duncan's big hands spread across the oldest Immortal's back, caressing the smooth, pale skin roughly.

The two Immortals drove one another to the brink of orgasm and joyfully tumbled over the edge together. Methos emptied himself deep inside Duncan's body with a sharp cry of pleasure. His muscles trembled with the effort of completion and then relaxed abruptly. Methos collapsed heavily on top of the equally spent form of the Highlander. Duncan's own come was warm and sticky between their bodies, but they were both too tired, too satiated to care if things were a bit messy.

Absently Duncan raised a hand to stroke the sweaty spikes of Methos' hair. The old Immortal made a soft sound of contentment at the soothing caress. In response Methos burrowed his face into Mac's neck, his lips warm against the damp skin. Duncan smiled fondly. Methos always got particularly affectionate after sex, wanting nothing more than to cuddle and be held in return.

"So, am I forgiven?" Mac asked softly.

"Huh?" Methos was close to sleep and less than articulate.

"For not taking you up on your welcome home offer the other day," Duncan elaborated.

"Oh. That." Methos turned his head so that he could see Mac's face. A slow smile curved Methos' lips. "Yeah. It's OK."

"I'm glad." Duncan smiled back, missing the sudden glint in Methos' hazel eyes.

"Well, it's like they say," observed Methos innocently. "Everyone comes - if he waits. I think we proved that to both our satisfaction tonight, don't you?"

Duncan could only groan and shake his head.


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