Disclaimer: Not mine. Highlander and it's characters are the property of Rysher/Panzer/Davis.
"So" Methos asked, settling on his side beside Duncan and resting his head on his hand, "when do I get to lose the other half of my virginity?"
"Anxious, are we?"
Methos smiled warmly. "Once I actually thought about it, I found the idea of being buried in your ass rather enticing."
"I did. I do." Methos leaned down for a kiss. He kept the contact light, lighter than he knew Duncan wanted, just a tantalizing brush of lips against lips.
"Now works for me."
Methos chuckled, low and quiet. "I just bet it does." He re-initiated the kiss, tasting Duncan's lips with his own, first one and then the other. He resisted Duncan's efforts to involve their tongues in the proceedings, limiting the contact to just lips. After three attempts at deepening the kiss, Duncan gave up, groaning.
"You need to learn patience," Methos whispered.
"Patience," Duncan growled. "Look how long I waited."
"How long?" Methos asked, placing a series of light kisses across Duncan's collarbone.
"Since the moment we met."
Methos raised his head. "You wanted me that long?"
"Yes, but something was always in the way."
"There's nothing in the way now."
"Nothing but your insistence on patience."
"It's a virtue, Mac."
"I thought the whole point of the evening was to lose your virtue."
"I'll lose it more quickly if you stop talking."
Duncan pointedly shut his mouth.
"Very good," Methos said. "Keep it that way until I open it."
Methos returned to his task, planting kisses along Duncan's neck and upper chest, occasionally pausing to add a hint of suction. He kissed Duncan's mouth as well, brief kisses, which he followed with lengthier ones, refusing to deepen them to the level Duncan clearly wanted.
Methos had had enough of surrender.
He shifted a leg so that it slid between Mac's, pressing his thigh against the other man's erection. Almost imperceptibly, he pressed more firmly in time with his kisses.
Duncan groaned. Methos raised his head from where he had been teasing the skin beneath Duncan's ear to look into his face. Their eyes connected for a moment, and then Methos lowered his mouth. No teasing this time, he dove into the other man's mouth, brushing his tongue hungrily along Duncan's.
Without breaking the kiss, he shifted so that his body covered Duncan's, seized the other man's head in his hands, holding it at precisely the angle he wanted, and plunging repeatedly into Duncan's mouth. Duncan's mouth was moist, but not overly so. Methos liked that. Too much saliva was too much of a good thing. And his lips were yielding. Wonderfully, sweetly yielding, and Methos couldn't resist the temptation to capture one and suck it.
Duncan's hips rose against his own, and Methos sucked harder in answer.
He eased back on the suction, replacing it with another series of light kisses. Duncan's hips continued to move and the contact was doing sinful things to Methos' cock. "Shhh. Duncan, stop moving."
Duncan kept moving.
"I want to fuck you, but I won't be able to if you keep that up."
Duncan stopped, but his expression made his displeasure clear.
"Patience, remember?" Methos smiled, letting some of his affection for the man beneath him show. "I'm new at this. Indulge me."
Duncan smiled back, shaking his head slightly.
Methos' own smile broadened. He turned Duncan's head, using his fingers to brush back Duncan's hair, exposing an ear. He was close enough that his breath was warming the curved flesh. Letting his tongue slip out, Methos flicked repeatedly at the top of Duncan's ear, before sliding his tongue down along it.
Duncan's hips bucked.
"Patience," Methos whispered, just before he took the lobe in his mouth and began to suck gently, alternating the suction with light flicks of his tongue. He couldn't help but think of repeating the action on other parts of Duncan's body, and he wondered if his lover was having the same thoughts.
He was doing to Mac what Mac had done to him, but with one key difference. Where Mac had been predatory and demanding, requiring Methos' surrender, Methos was seductive and teasing, arousing Mac's interest, making him want more, making him want to be claimed. He'd been doing precisely that to women for millennia; he could do it to MacLeod.
He eased back on his attentions to Duncan's ear, trailing kisses down the other man's neck, and sliding his body lower until his head was level with Duncan's chest. Methos examined it. Duncan's chest was thicker than his own, and brown tinged nipples were just visible within the tangle of hair. "Very nice," he murmured.
"Glad you approve."
Methos flashed him a quick grin. "Surprisingly, I do."
He ran his fingers through the hair. It was softer than it looked. "Are your nipples sensitive, Duncan?"
"Why don't you find out for yourself?"
Methos squeezed one, hard, and Duncan yelped.
"I guess they are."
Duncan raised a hand to rub at the offended flesh, but Methos' hand closed around his wrist. "Don't claim you didn't deserve that."
"If you'd really wanted me to stop, I would have."
"Let me guess. My eyes were saying 'yes.'"
"No, your cock was."
"Was it?" Methos raised the wrist in his hand to his lips.
"Yes, all long and hard and tempting."
"So tempting you couldn't control yourself."
"Do you really regret this, Methos?"
Duncan's sudden concern was sweet, if a tad belated. "No. You said you'd make me feel good, and you did. Kinda hard to regret that." Methos returned his attention to the captive hand, nipping lightly at Duncan's palm. "Now, I intend to return the favor." Methos' grin encompassed his whole face. "I may not have much experience with men, but I think I know a few things that are transferable." He took Duncan's index finger into his mouth, sucking, scraping it with his teeth as he withdrew it. "I'm just trying to decide whether or not I should restrain you."
"Your obvious delight in deflowering virgins seems to me to indicate a more general need for control."
"Thank you, Dr. Freud."
"Face it, MacLeod, you get off on being in charge. The only problem is, so do I. Makes for some interesting possibilities, don't you think?"
Duncan's answer was guarded. "Maybe."
"Maybe," Methos echoed, grabbing Duncan's other arm, and pulling them both over his head. Methos pressed both palms against the bars of the headboard. "Don't move them."
"I want to be able to touch you."
Methos shook his head. "My turn. You got to do plenty of touching earlier, and you were very good at it. But now it's my turn." Methos sat up, running his eyes over Duncan. "Where was I? Oh, yes, your nipples. I was about to find out if they're sensitive. I hope so. I like sensitive nipples. Don't you?"
Duncan scowled at him.
Methos chuckled. "Fun, Mac, sex is supposed to be fun."
"I'm not so sure we have the same definition of fun."
"Oh, I think we do. Shall we find out?"
Duncan sighed, "Why not?"
Methos leaned close to his ear and whispered, "Don't worry, Duncan. I am going to make you feel so good."
Duncan laughed. "Okay, okay, maybe I was a little pushy."
"A little?" Methos ran his fingers along a cheek. "I don't mind pushy, as long as I get to push back."
"So stop talking about it, and push already."
"If you say that word one more time, I'll"
"Let's just say that next time you'll regret it."
"I look forward to it."
"You say that now."
Methos ignored him, turning his attention to the much-discussed nipples. Duncan's arousal had faded somewhat while they were talking and when he traced them with his fingertips he found the flesh soft to his touch. As he touched, they tightened.
"Oh, yes," Methos murmured, shifting closer. His tongue folded around a nipple for just a moment, before flicking it. A few flicks and his mouth closed over it, sucking with increasing strength.
It was different from a woman's breast, less flesh readily available, more effort required to capture that which he did hold in his mouth. Oddly, he found the differences exciting. He teased with his tongue as he sucked. Duncan's flesh felt good, tasted better.
He buried his face in Duncan's chest, hair tickling his nose as he inhaled. Duncan's scent was familiar, and he had always associated that scent with friendship, and comfort, and the safety of being with someone he knew without question would guard his back. Now, he associated that scent with other things as well: desire, lust, pleasure.
He inhaled deeply once more before taking Duncan's other nipple in his mouth. A groan. Methos realized it had come from him. Caressing Duncan was exciting him far more than he had thought it would.
All that wonderful strength, his to do with as he pleased.
Smiling at the thought, Methos sat back. He began to explore Duncan's torso with his hands, watching his face as he did so.
It didn't take long before he'd had his fill of Duncan's chest. Probably because of the cock beneath him, pressing into his scrotum, and reminding him of what else was awaiting his attention.
He shifted so that he was between Duncan's legs. It was within plain view now, Duncan's cock. It wasn't that different from his own, darker in color, the blood engorging it giving it a purplish tint. The foreskin was fully retracted, to reveal an almost perfectly round head. Methos curled his hand around it; it fit perfectly. He'd never considered that before, how perfectly cocks fit into hands, but then he'd only ever held his own.
He stroked lightly, satisfying his curiosity. Holding it upright with one hand, he petted the head with the fingers of his other hand. The skin there was smooth, and surprisingly soft. He liked the way it felt.
Methos resumed stroking, pressing against the backside with his thumb. Duncan gasped. Methos smiled. "You like this, don't you? Knowing you're the first man I've ever touched like this."
"Not the first."
"Okay, the second."
"Do you like it?" Duncan asked.
"I do. Very much. You feel good, Duncan."
Instead of answering, Methos leaned forward and licked lightly at the head.
Duncan let out a short, sharp, "Oh."
Methos began to lick in earnest, lapping with just the end of his tongue, swirling it over the head, tracing the ridge.
He closed his mouth over the head, sucking. It felt even better than Duncan's nipples had, more substantial, and...tastier. He wasn't even surprised. Having Duncan MacLeod's cock in his mouth felt good, and Methos wasn't even surprised. That probably should have been a surprise in itself, but Methos was too involved in what he was doing to think about it.
Methos slid his mouth lower, taking in more of Duncan. He didn't think he'd be able to take Duncan as deeply as Duncan had taken him, at least not the first time, but he was feeling confident of his ability to give his new lover pleasure. After all, Duncan was making the most amazing noises, and he'd moved a hand from the headboard where Methos had pressed it to the back of Methos' head. Methos couldn't be bothered to protest, because it felt good there, silently urging him on, asking him for more.
The hardened flesh stroking across his lips was wonderfully pleasurable. Methos cupped Duncan's testicles in one hand, the other wrapped tightly around the base of the cock in his mouth. Between the taste, and the sensations Duncan's cock was creating in his lips and tongue, Methos began to lose touch with everything else. The world was reduced to the flesh in his mouth, and the man it belonged to; nothing else mattered, or even existed. He wasn't even aware of how aroused he himself was, of how close he'd gotten.
Until Duncan came.
Duncan MacLeod came in his mouth, his cock jerking and pulsing, and his semen filling Methos' mouth and forcing him to swallow rapidly. He called out Methos' name, his voice softened by pleasure.
Methos was barely aware of it at first, and the first contractions took him utterly by surprise, so focused was he on Duncan. He was coming. The intensity of it forced him to open his mouth, releasing Duncan's cock. He couldn't suck, couldn't do anything but let the pleasure take him over. He was only dimly aware of Duncan's hand stroking his hair, and Duncan's thigh beneath his cheek.
Reality gradually returned, and Methos inhaled deeply. He glanced up at Duncan. The other man was grinning, insufferably. It was a triumphant, 'I can make you come without even touching you' grin. Methos nipped at his thigh.
"Hey, what was that for?"
"Being so bloody arrogant."
"Yes, arrogant. Was I not speaking English? Do you need me to say it more slowly?"
"Methos, you're the only person I know who can be cranky after an orgasm."
"I'm not cranky. I'm resentful."
"Of having an orgasm?"
"Of your being so damned pleased by it."
"If someone came while blowing you, wouldn't you be pleased?"
Methos paused. Of course he'd be pleased, but that wasn't the point. He wasn't a cocksure asshole who pounced on his friends, and seduced them into trying all sorts of new and unsettling things. "Yeah, I'd be pleased, but I'd try to be discreet about it."
"Because your gloating is irritating, you cocksure asshole."
"Cocksure asshole?" Duncan repeated. "I'm not sure yet, but I may like the sound of that."
Methos laughed softly, and shifted his position so that he was laying half-atop Duncan, with his head on the other man's chest. "You would."
Duncan stroked his shoulders. "I like the feel of your skin."
"I just said I did. It's wonderfully smooth, but not soft, you know? Smooth skin over hard muscle, one of my favorite combinations."
"I'm sure you have a lot of favorite combinations."
"Not as many as you might imagine."
Duncan was stroking his hair. It was the kind of thing Methos had done for his lovers, and to have it done to him was decidedly odd. But it felt, Methos paused, searching for the correct word, nice. He snorted softly.
"What's so amusing?"
"Nothing." Methos raised his head and rested his chin against Duncan's ribs. "I still want to fuck you."
"Do you want to do it now, or wait until morning?"
Methos considered the question. He felt really good right where he was, and they'd both be refreshed in the morning. And what a thing to dream about. His cock had ideas of its own, however. Thinking about MacLeod, and fucking, was causing it to harden, yet again.
Duncan must have felt it. "Why, Methos, I never imagined you'd be insatiable."
"I can be satisfied, MacLeod. The only question is whether or not you're good enough to do it."
"I'm good enough. Come here."
Their gazes locked, but Methos didn't move.
Methos shifted upward, and Duncan raised his head, bringing their lips together for a long, sweet kiss. There was no control in this kiss, and no demands, just Duncan MacLeod, offering himself.
They tasted and explored, each of them opening himself a little bit more with every brush of their tongues. When it ended, Methos was nearly shaking. Their earlier activities had been lust-filled, passionate, and intensely pleasurable. This sudden tenderness caught him off guard.
"Fill me, Methos," Duncan whispered. "I've imagined it so many times, what it would be like to have you inside me. I want it. I want you. Please."
"Duncan," Methos breathed, "I...how...I mean, what position?"
"Hands and knees is easiest. Prepare me first."
Methos nodded, fumbling for the oil Duncan had used on him. He started to pour some on his fingers, acutely aware of Duncan watching him. He glanced at the other man's face. His eyes were wide, and his lips were slightly parted; he looked vulnerable. The arrogant bastard looked vulnerable, and the knowledge shook him. He leaned forward and kissed Duncan gently, trying to reassure them both.
Then he slipped his hand between Duncan's legs, going straight to his opening. Encountering wrinkled skin, he stroked it with an easy circular motion.
Duncan groaned and parted his legs further. Methos took the hint, pressing in slightly.
Muscles contracted around his finger, then relaxed. He looked from his hand to Duncan's face, and they exchanged a smile. He pressed further, another ring of muscle, also relaxed. Duncan obviously knew what he was doing.
Duncan's flesh was close around his finger, and it was hard to imagine how a cock would fit in that tight space. But he knew it would. After all, Duncan's had fit inside him. The thought brought with it a sense memory that made his cock jerk. He wanted to give Duncan that, the same pleasure he'd been given.
He began to move his finger in and out, savoring the sleekness of Duncan's flesh. He encountered a slight protuberance, and he explored it. Duncan gasped, clutching at the sheets. The man was beautiful, Methos thought, especially like this.
Almost regretfully, Methos withdrew his finger, applying more oil. Then he pressed back inside with two fingers. Duncan's flesh again gave way.
It was intoxicating, feeling Duncan open to him, seeing Duncan so vulnerable.
"Take me, Methos. Please. I don't want to wait anymore."
Methos withdrew his fingers, and Duncan turned over. He was on his knees, with his head and shoulders down. Methos drew in a sharp breath at the sight. He coated his cock slowly, wanting to be sure it was slick enough not to cause discomfort.
Settling behind Duncan, he paused, and then he leaned forward to kiss each tempting buttock. For the first time he noticed the traces of his own semen on Duncan's thigh, and he licked at it playfully.
"Methos, that tickles."
"No, you're not."
"You're beautiful, Duncan."
"'Bout time you admitted it. Now, fuck me."
"Is this what's meant by the phrase 'pushy bottom?'"
"Alright." Methos lifted his hips, aligning himself with Duncan's entrance. Taking hold of one of Duncan's hips, he began to ease forward. Resistance from the first ring of muscle caused him to stop.
Methos resumed pushing, and the muscle gave way. No resistance at all from the second ring, and he continued to ease forward until he was all of the way inside.
He was surrounded. Duncan's flesh clung to him, caressing him with its smoothness. It was the most incredible sensation. And it was caused by Duncan. Duncan was giving this to him.
It was several minutes before he could move, even longer before he wanted to. But at some point, he started bumping his hips, finding that if he did it just right he could cause Duncan to make the most amazing sounds.
The bumps gave way to small thrusts, and the small thrusts to larger ones. He had Duncan's hips in his hands, and he was fucking him. Slowly, because he wanted to savor every moment.
Not being able to see Duncan's face added to the intimacy, forcing him to be aware of every nuance in breathing and movement, every sound the other man made.
He was grateful for his earlier orgasms. He couldn't have withstood this pleasure for long otherwise. As it was, he could feel his orgasm approaching, and he reached around, taking hold of Duncan's cock. The feel of it in his hand added to his arousal, pushing him even closer.
Duncan was moving with him, pushing eagerly back onto his cock, and then forward into his hand. All of that muscle, focused entirely on fucking him, on taking him inside, caressing him, and drawing him out of himself, pulling him into Duncan.
The pulses began in his feet, pounding up through his legs to his groin, and then out. Out, and into Duncan MacLeod. He was helpless, the pleasure stripping him completely, and he spurted into Duncan's depths over and over, feeling Duncan coming in his hand.
He was shaking when it ended. He stretched out along his lover's back, letting Duncan take his weight. The body beneath him was shaking, too, but Methos took no comfort in it.
As the shaking eased, he became aware of what he was doing, of the strain he must be creating for Duncan. "Sorry," he mumbled, pulling himself upright. He eased back, withdrawing carefully from Duncan's body.
"Don't be sorry," Duncan said quietly.
Methos lay down on his back, and Duncan shifted into his arms. "Is this okay?" he asked.
"Yeah," Methos pressed a kiss to his forehead. "It's okay."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I am. It was incredible, Mac. All of it. Thank you."
There was more he wanted to say, more he felt he should say, but he couldn't. Suddenly it seemed as though their entire lives were hanging in the balance, and Methos couldn't say a word. It was better not to, he decided. Better just to hold Duncan in his arms, and drift off to sleep.
Methos smiled. He was holding Duncan MacLeod. What an amazing thing.
He closed his eyes.