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 May 1999.

With thanks to Margaret for reading and commenting, and especially for convincing me my original title was crap!


Methos really was doing his very best to concentrate on his work. For the past couple of hours he had been happily absorbed in several very old texts. Methos could remember first hand the events they described and he had been contentedly translating from the original Greek, making notes as he went.

Now, however, Methos' attention kept drifting to the man sitting across the table from him. Although Duncan MacLeod had kept his silence thus far he was fidgeting and generally looking increasingly disenchanted with his surroundings. A book on Scottish history was open in front of him, but it was clear that it had long ceased to hold his attention.

Methos wasn't entirely sure why MacLeod had insisted on accompanying him to the library, but it was readily apparent that it wasn't because he shared Methos' passion for books. Methos spared a moment to consider the passions he and Duncan did share before his lover's increasing restlessness had Methos glaring across the table at him in irritation.

Duncan was not the slightest bit intimidated by the old Immortal's forbidding stare. Instead, he met it head on with a patented MacLeod pout.

"I'm bored, Methos. Aren't you done yet?" he complained.

"No, I'm not." Methos shook his head. "And whining doesn't become you, MacLeod."

"Oh, pardon me," Mac retorted, "just because I don't share your fascination for dusty old books no one in their right..."

"You just have no respect for old things, Mac." Methos interrupted Duncan before he could get too carried away. "These aren't just books. They're history! Not just ink and paper, but..."

"I like you well enough, don't I?" In his turn Duncan halted Methos mid-flight.

"Sorry?" Methos blinked owlishly at Duncan, momentarily fazed by the apparent non sequitur.

"I said, I like you," Duncan repeated, "and you're a damned sight older than anything else in here."

"Very funny, I'm sure, Mac." Methos gave his lover a withering look. "But you know, you didn't have to tag along with me this afternoon. It's not like we're joined at the hip or something."

Mac shrugged. "Didn't have anything better to do, did I?"

"Oh, fine! So you thought you'd just ruin my afternoon too with your incessant whinging." Methos gave a theatrical sigh. "Thank you so much, Mac. I'm profoundly grateful."

"Can't you do this some other time, Methos? I'm sure the books will still be here."

Duncan tried a different tack, batting his eyelashes at Methos and using his best wheedling tone. It was a combination that usually worked with the old man and Mac really could think of more interesting things to be doing with Methos than sitting around a library watching him read.

Instead of the instant capitulation Duncan had hoped for Methos sat up straighter and regarded Mac with sudden suspicion. "Oh, I get it now. This is about sex, isn't it?"

"No!" Duncan protested, perhaps a shade too vehemently.

"Yes it is. You don't go through that whole eyelash batting routine unless you want me to drop whatever I'm doing and fuck you senseless. You're getting way too predictable, Highlander!" Methos sat back in his chair and looked smugly at Duncan's suddenly flushed face. "You're just pissed off that you're not getting any while I'm here studying. Well, get over it, Mac. There is more to life than endless sex."

"I know that," Mac insisted haughtily. He had to admit, though, that his libido - healthy at the best of times and seemingly in overdrive since he and Methos had become lovers - was less easily convinced of that fact.

"But just because you're feeling horny you're going to whine about it anyway," declared Methos loudly. If he wasn't going to get any more work done at least he deserved a little amusement at Mac's expense, Methos decided.

Mac made hurried shushing gestures with his hands as a few heads began to turn their way, attention drawn by Methos' raised voice. "No I'm not," Duncan hissed, "and will you please keep your voice down, Methos. My sex life is not up for general discussion!!"

The old Immortal pursed his lips and looked across at Duncan speculatively. "I tell you what, if I agree to satisfy your baser instincts will you promise to let me get on with my translation in peace afterwards?"

"What, you mean you will have sex with me then?" Duncan whispered, leaning across the table towards Methos. Perhaps this afternoon wouldn't turn out to be quite as boring as he had feared. It didn't occur to Duncan to wonder why Methos was being uncharacteristically tractable.

"That's right," Methos agreed. He raised his eyebrows in question.

"OK, deal!" Duncan began to slide his chair back, preparatory to getting up. "Come on then, let's go."

Mac was a little startled when one of Methos' hands settled over his wrist, restraining him. He'd assumed the old man meant to leave straight away.

"Where do you think you're going?" Methos asked equably.

"Home, why?" Duncan looked confused. "I thought you meant now."

"I do." Methos' voice was totally without inflection as he looked at Duncan. Only when it was apparent that Mac hadn't made the connection did the old Immortal slowly turn his head, letting his gaze encompass their surroundings.

Duncan's eyes widened in sudden comprehension. "You mean - here?"

"Mac, I have no intention of going home to the loft for a quickie and then trailing all the way back here again. I mean, I'm not the one who can't keep his hormones under control, am I?" Methos sounded utterly matter-of-fact about the whole thing. In truth, his hormones were rather less under control than he was pretending and he sincerely hoped the Highlander wasn't going to back out on him now.

"But isn't it a bit, well, public?" Duncan cast a quick glance around at the other tables, whose occupants seemed to be engaged in activities more fitting for a library than what he was currently contemplating. He swallowed hard as he realised he was seriously considering what the old man had suggested. It was so... illicit, and Mac discovered his cock was finding the whole idea incredibly appealing. He shifted awkwardly in his seat, trying to ease the sudden pressure at his groin.

"Oh, come on, you mean to tell me you've never indulged in a bit of hanky panky behind the bookshelves before?" Methos leaned in a little closer, well aware of his lover's arousal. Sometimes it was just too easy to push the Highlander's buttons. Still, the results on this occasion promised to be interesting, Methos reflected with a predatory smile.

"No, I have not!" Methos found Duncan's flustered indignation perfectly endearing.

"Ah, Mac, your education has been sorely lacking, then. Well, it's time to correct that oversight - a little Greek drama should do nicely, I think." With that Methos got to his feet and began to head for one of the more out of the way sections of the library. After taking a couple of steps he looked back over his shoulder. "Are you coming? Or would something more modern suit your tastes better? Then again, I'm sure they must have a copy of the Kama Sutra around here somewhere - just in case you need a few pointers..."

Duncan was still sitting at the table, staring after Methos' retreating form. He looked up and met the oldest Immortal's hazel eyes. "You really are serious about this, aren't you?"

"Never more so." Methos fixed Duncan with what he hoped was his most seductive come-hither look. His own cock certainly believed he was serious and Methos had reason to be grateful that he was wearing a long coat. By now the old Immortal was about ready to drag Duncan off amongst the bookshelves if he had to and to hell with his pride! "Now, are we doing this or not?" he added impatiently.

Rather like a child's toy on the end of a string Mac found himself on his feet and trailing behind Methos between the dusty rows of shelves. The old man seemed to know where he was going and he led Duncan to a particularly dark corner of the library.

Eventually Methos came to a halt and peered at the leather-bound books lining the shelves around them. "Here we go, Euripides - perfect! There's nothing quite like a touch of Greek tragedy to get you going on a long, boring afternoon, wouldn't you agree? Or does political satire do it for you, MacLeod? There's some Aristophanes here, too, if you prefer." Methos prodded the spine of another impressive looking tome. "Mmm, smell that dust."

"Methos..." Duncan regarded his lover with fond amusement.

"Hm?" Methos turned to him with a bright smile.

"Anyone ever tell you that you are really strange?" Mac enquired wryly.

"Now that you come to mention it, yeah..." Methos paused to consider the matter further. "Usually right before they did something really kinky with a scroll of vellum and a block of sealing-wax. Mac..."

Methos' voice trailed off as Duncan slowly backed him up against the bookshelves. Mac crowded in close, his solid frame pinning Methos in place. Duncan ground his hips against the old Immortal's, gratified to find the bulge in his own jeans was matched by the hardness at Methos' groin.

"Shit, Mac, I thought I was the bibliophile," Methos murmured shakily. He tried to thrust his swollen cock a little harder against Duncan's body, but found he had only limited room to move. "If I'd known books could turn you on this much I'd have dragged you down here long ago."

"I thought you said there was more to life than just sex," Mac reminded him, amused by the old man's sudden turn around.

"Fuck that, what do I know?" Methos whispered as he finally found the angle he'd been looking for and began humping Mac's denim-covered groin in earnest. This beat translating dusty old texts any day! Methos groaned, loudly, as Duncan abruptly moved back out of reach. "Bloody hell, Mac, what are you trying to do to me?"

"You want to come in your jeans and walk around sticky for the rest of the day, that's fine. But I don't," said Mac fastidiously. He dropped a hand down and began to unfasten the button at his waistband.

"All right, maybe you have a point there," Methos agreed.

He pushed away from the bookshelves and moved closer to Duncan. His long fingers swatted Mac's away and took over the task of slowly sliding down the zipper on Mac's jeans. As the heavy fabric parted Methos dipped a hand inside. He encountered warm dampness. The front of Duncan's briefs was already liberally soaked with his pre-come.

"Is this all for me?" asked Methos silkily as his fingers toyed with Mac's sturdy cock through the damp material.

"Oh yeah, all yours," Duncan agreed fervently, pushing his cock more firmly into Methos' palm.

Smoothly Methos dropped to his knees in front of Duncan. He urged the Highlander to take a few steps back, until he was leaning against the nearest bookshelf. A moment later Duncan was grateful for its support. Methos bent his head and very delicately began to lick Mac's swollen penis through the damp briefs.

The friction of the fabric against his sensitised skin drew a low moan from Duncan. When Methos looked up at him warningly Mac abruptly remembered where he was and muffled the sound with his hand.

Satisfied Duncan would be quiet Methos returned to his task. He traced the outline of Mac's cock through the increasingly transparent material. As more pre-come leaked from the tip Methos lapped it up, savouring its salty sweetness.

Duncan was slowly thrusting his hips, pressing his trapped cock harder against Methos' mouth. "Methos, please..." he whispered, looking down at the old Immortal.

"What do you want, Mac?" Methos asked, glancing up at the Highlander's flushed face. He licked his lips, chasing the elusive taste of Duncan's essence. Methos saw the shiver that ran through Duncan at the gesture. "Do you want to fuck my mouth?"

Duncan simply nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Carefully Methos eased Duncan's jeans over his hips and down below his knees. The cotton briefs quickly followed. Methos ran his hands possessively over Duncan's flanks, then slid them around to cup Mac's backside. He regarded the slick length of Mac's penis for a long moment before leaning forward to lay claim to it with his mouth.

Duncan bit down on another groan as Methos' tongue glided along the underside of his shaft. Soft lips closed around the heated flesh as Methos began to take him in deeper, swallowing against the head of Duncan's cock. Methos relaxed his throat and let more of his prize slide into the warm haven of his mouth.

For a long, glorious moment Duncan let Methos set the pace. The old Immortal moved slowly, releasing almost all of Mac's cock, until only the tip remained in his mouth. Methos grazed his teeth across the soft flesh before parting his lips to engulf the whole length again. Methos used all his skill to tease Duncan's cock and, as he did so, his hands on Mac's hips gently urged him to take what he wanted.

It didn't take Duncan long to get the message Methos' subtle grip was communicating. His own hands dropped to Methos' head. Mac laced his fingers into the short, silky strands of Methos' hair and held him in place. The old Immortal allowed his head to be tilted until Duncan found the perfect angle to thrust himself over and over again into Methos' willing mouth.

Methos closed his eyes and gave himself up to the pleasure of tasting Duncan's flesh as his cock slipped between Methos' pursed lips time and again. He could feel Duncan losing all restraint as his release approached. Methos managed a smile around the hard cock plunging deep into his throat. There were, in his estimation, few things as magnificent as Duncan MacLeod losing control in the midst of a really mind-blowing bout of sex. As far as Methos was concerned this was just about as good as it got.

The reflexive tightening of the grip on his hair told Methos that Duncan was about to lose it. Mac thrust hard and deep one more time and then froze. Methos began to swallow eagerly as Duncan's semen filled his mouth. The old Immortal felt the tremors which rippled through Mac's body as he rode out his orgasm. A few more convulsive shudders shook the solid frame and then Duncan was still. Methos gently suckled the softening penis before releasing the spent flesh. Then he licked his lips to retrieve a few stray drops of Duncan's come.

A moment later Methos was startled to find large hands grabbing his shoulders and hauling him bodily to his feet. Before he could open his mouth to speak it was summarily captured in a fierce kiss.

Duncan's tongue roughly insinuated its way between Methos' lips and began intimately acquainting itself with the inside of Methos' mouth. At the same time Duncan's hands also found something to occupy them. They dropped to Methos' waist and made short work of the button and zipper of his jeans. There were no further barriers underneath and as soon as Duncan had pushed the heavy denim out of the way he was free to take possession of Methos' cock.

A broad, calloused palm wrapped firmly around Methos' shaft and he thrust into its snug grip. Duncan's other hand snaked behind Methos and dipped into the cleft between his buttocks. Mac's fingers skimmed over the tight ring of muscle and Methos arched into the touch.

Duncan pulled his lips free of the old Immortal's. Before Methos could protest their loss he was presented with Duncan's blunt fingers. They brushed against Methos' lower lip and he seized on them eagerly. Methos drew them into his mouth and wetted them thoroughly, knowing where they were destined for next.

When Duncan withdrew his hand and slid the now slick fingers back between Methos' buttocks the old Immortal moaned softly. He bucked his hips and felt the alternating sensations of warm friction against his penis and the cool glide of damp fingertips over his anus. Methos thrust backwards a little harder and his body was breached. The single digit caused no pain, but felt good as it probed him.

Duncan watched Methos' face raptly as the oldest Immortal closed his eyes and let the sensations flow over him. It was at unguarded moments like these that Duncan felt he got closest to seeing the real Methos.

As Methos seemed to be enjoying the gentle finger-fucking Duncan was giving him, Mac worked a second finger into the tight channel. Methos thrust his hips back emphatically, seeking a deeper penetration. Eventually, Duncan's fingertips found the exact spot inside that sent liquid fire racing along Methos' nerves. He jerked forward and Mac's other hand glided along Methos' cock, bringing a new burst of pleasure.

After that it didn't take very long before Methos was swept up in his own orgasm. He had to bite his lip, hard, to hold back the cries that threatened to spill from his lips just as his seed was pulsing from his cock and over Duncan's encircling hand. Mac's broad palm was milking Methos for every drop, wringing the pleasure from him.

Methos surrendered to the sensations gladly, lost in a pleasant haze. There was a lot to be said for giving in to good old-fashioned lust in a public place. The possibility of discovery, however slight, added a delightful edge, an urgency to the proceedings. Gods, thought Methos contentedly, he felt thoroughly and deliciously debauched!

"Methos. Methos!" Duncan's voice slowly penetrated the post-orgasmic fog wrapped around the old Immortal's brain. He opened his eyes to see Duncan hovering over him anxiously. "Are you OK?"

"Fuck, Duncan, OK doesn't even begin to cover it!" Methos stretched, feeling his joints cracking satisfyingly as he did so. "Are we in as much of a mess as I think we are?" Duncan at the very least could be described as delightfully dishevelled!

"Yep, I'm afraid so," agreed Duncan. A broad, foolish grin plastered itself across his features and refused to be removed.

Methos' hazel eyes sparkled mischievously. "Damn, I think we're going to thoroughly scandalise the good patrons of this library if we go back out there looking like this!"

"Uh huh." Considering his earlier reticence about sex amidst the Greek classics, Duncan seemed decidedly unfazed by this possibility. Apparently, mind-blowing sex was good for removing the Highlander's inhibitions. Methos decided that this piece of information was worth filing away for future reference.

"What do you suggest we do then, Mac?" Methos asked casually.

"Well, it's pretty near to closing time," said Duncan, checking his watch. "So, you wouldn't have got much more done this afternoon anyway. If we wait until everyone else is leaving they'll be too busy thinking about getting home to worry about what we look like."

"And in the meantime?" Methos lounged against the bookshelves behind him and pretended not to notice the fact that Duncan's cock was once again beginning to take an active interest in proceedings.

"Oh, you can help me clean up," said Duncan brightly, "starting with this..." He offered Methos his hand, still sticky with the old Immortal's come.

Methos took it between his own hands and brought it up to his mouth. His tongue stole out and began to lick Duncan's palm with long, slow strokes. Methos heard the sudden hitch in Mac's breathing and switched his attention to Duncan's fingers. He sucked each in turn into his mouth, taking far longer than was strictly necessary to retrieve every last trace of his essence from the tanned skin.

"Methos..." breathed Duncan.

"Mm?" queried Methos around a mouthful of Highlander.

"Keep that up much longer and you'll have a whole new mess to clean up," warned Duncan huskily.

Methos let go of the last finger, his lips releasing it with an audible pop. He leaned closer to Duncan and treated him to a long and very thorough kiss. When Methos finally drew back his eyes were dark with renewed arousal.

"That's what I'm counting on, Mac," Methos whispered. "That's what I'm counting on."

The End

Return to Yavanna's Realm archive