|See Methos Run
Not mine. No money. Definitely NC-17. Language, male/male sex, violence-- all that really juicy stuff we love so much.
RSM: Do not fold, spindle or mutilate your muses-- unless you really mean it.
"Just talk to me for a little while, Methos. I'm bored."
"And what does that make me, Amanda? Dial a Distraction? Let me guess-- you called Joe and wheedled this number out of him because you want to drive a man insane tonight and you can't reach MacLeod, right?"
"Oh, I talked to Duncan. He's no fun tonight. I caught him in mid-brood."
"Again? What's our Highland lad brooding about this time?"
"What do you think?"
"Something suitably serious and heavily portentous, no doubt. The ultimate purpose of the Game? The inherent and unresolved ethical problems of immortality? The -- thank God for small favors -- impossibility of getting good haggis in Seacouver?"
"He's brooding about you, Methos."
"Me? What have I done now? I haven't seen him in a week. I haven't even talked to the man in four days!"
"Dead on target. And you didn't even have to break a sweat."
"Are you implying that he's upset because I haven't phoned home? Who does he think I am-- E.T?"
"Actually, he never mentioned it had been that long. But since you brought it up-- four days? You haven't called him in four days?"
"I don't believe this. What are you trying to do, Methos? Break his heart?"
"Break his...? I think we can do without the hand-wringing dramatics, Amanda."
"I'm not being dramatic. He's suffering, Methos."
"Yeah, right. You mean he's horny. Amanda, let me explain something to you-- Mac and I are friends. Good friends-- yes. Close friends-- yes. Good, close friends who happen to enjoy screwing each other's brains out on a regular basis-- definitely yes. But still, just friends. I wouldn't have expected you of all people to over-romanticize the relationship."
"I don't think I'm over-romanticizing a damn thing, Methos."
"Believe me, Amanda, going for a few days without speaking to me is not going to break Duncan MacLeod's heart. He's survived worse things. Much worse."
"Are you sure about that?"
"Amanda, this is ridiculous! That's the way our relationship is. MacLeod and I have gone months without speaking to each other."
"Right. And since you started sleeping together?"
"Uh...until this week, twelve hours. But that doesn't mean anything. We haven't been sleeping together that long, it's still a novelty. Tell me this, Amanda-- what's the longest you've gone without speaking to him? Months? Years? Decades?"
"But there's one important difference between you and me, Methos."
"Just one? Silly me-- and here I was hoping there were hundreds."
"Only one that counts. He's not in love with me."
"You heard me. Don't make me repeat it."
"You're not serious, are you Amanda?"
"Of course I'm serious. Why on earth would I joke about this, Methos?"
"That's what worries me. The possible motivations you could have for mischief-making on this scale are too frightening to contemplate."
"Very funny. It's simple, Methos. Duncan is my best friend. Duncan is in love with you. I want Duncan to be happy. If knocking you over the head and dragging you back to Seacouver in chains is what it takes to make Duncan happy, I'm more than prepared to do it. I don't often get a chance to do Duncan a good turn. And I know where I can get designer chains at cost."
"Putting aside, for the moment, the absolutely absurd idea of MacLeod being in love with me-- do you really think you could take me, Amanda?"
"Did I forget to mention my secret weapon?"
"I've seen your secret weapons, Amanda. They're good-- they're damn good-- but...hitting over the head? Chains? I don't think so. No offense, love, but there hasn't been a set of tits and ass in over a thousand years that could make me...""
"Consider my lips zipped."
"And stop snickering."
"You may be asking the impossible with that one, but I'll do my best. Tell me about this new secret weapon you think you've discovered. "
"You'll appreciate this, Methos. Like all of the very best weapons it's beautiful, streamlined, and elegant in its simplicity. You're in love with Duncan."
"I'm...? That's not funny, Amanda."
"Really? I thought it was hysterical. See Methos. See Methos' best friend Duncan. See Methos lust after Duncan. See Methos sleep with Duncan. See Methos discover that he's in love with Duncan. See Methos panic. See Methos run."
"So you're an expert on my motivations and emotions now? I take it back-- that is funny. It's not just funny, it's hysterical."
"Yeah, a laugh a minute-- right up until you panicked. And the running part wasn't funny at all. He still thinks you're coming back, you know. But you and I know better, don't we?"
"We seem to know a lot of things that are none of our business."
"If it hurts Duncan MacLeod, I damn well make it my business. And you don't fool me for a minute-- I can tell when two and two add up to five. You're hot for Duncan, and I've certainly enjoyed your company-- in bed and out-- often enough to know how much you absolutely adore sex. And I'm sure that you're no stranger to the joys of phone sex, either. Hell, knowing how much you love screwing people with words, you probably invented the concept."
"Is there a point lurking in there somewhere?"
"I'm getting there. Granted, after five-thousand years, you're not as emotionally blind as most men, but even so..."
"I can't wait to hear how you're going to end that sentence."
"You're not a woman. Women see these things differently than men do. And you know what I see here, Methos? If you were planning to go back to Duncan, you'd be on the phone with him every night-- stirring him up, getting him off, keeping him all hot and bothered. You'd be making damn sure he missed you. But instead, you're ignoring him. Two and two equals five, Methos. Tell me I'm wrong. I dare you."
"Amanda, it's not what you think..."
"Oh, I can't wait to hear this. Go ahead, Methos. Tell me how you're going to justify this one. Tell me what's got you so scared that you're going to put a knife through Duncan's heart. Tell me what terrifies you so badly about being in love with him that you're willing to break your own heart to avoid it."
"Amanda, can I..."
"Go ahead, Old Man, talk. I want to understand this. And it's not just feminine curiosity-- I need to understand this. After all, I'm the one that's still going to be there after he figures out that you're not coming back. I'm the one that's going to have to pick up the pieces after you've broken his heart. So explain it to me, Methos. Start simply, go slowly, and use small words. Tell me all about it."
"Amanda, if you'd just let me..."
"Tell me that you're not desperately in love with him, Methos. I won't believe you, but tell me anyway. And while you're at it, tell me how to convince Mac that he's not in love with you. Maybe he'll hurt less if I can make him believe it was just teeth-rattling lust he was feeling."
"Amanda, you're not..."
"Because he'll never believe that you ran away because you loved him. Duncan MacLeod won't understand that, Methos. Not after everything the two of you have been through together. And certainly not after these last few weeks of sleeping with you. Never in a million years is he going to accept..."
"Amanda! Shut up!"
"You want to hear me admit it? Fine. You're right, I love Duncan MacLeod. You want to know why I haven't called him, why I'm-- you're absolutely right about this part, too-- not going back? You want to know what I'm so damned afraid of? Fine, Amanda-- slowly and in small words this time. Duncan. MacLeod. Is. Not. In. Love. With. Me."
"Amanda. One more time-- Duncan is not in love with me."
"Methos. One more time-- bullshit."
"Let me give you a man's perspective on this, love. It was all about sex. For men, everything is always about sex! It was a lot simpler than you seem to think. Duncan wanted to screw me, and I wanted to be screwed by Duncan-- and that was it, Amanda. I knew that when we started, and I know it now. And I didn't object at all. Teeth- rattling lust was all it was, and teeth- rattling lust was more than good enough. Who in their right mind would turn down the opportunity to crawl into Duncan MacLeod's bed and spread their legs?"
"If it was enough, why are you running?"
"You know why, Amanda. Because that's all it was ever going to be, and it's not enough anymore."
"You still don't get it, do you? Do you know what Duncan and I talked about tonight, Methos? You. You're the only thing he wants to talk about! He's so besotted with you that..."
"The two of you talked about me?"
"Yes, Methos. With all of the thousands of more fascinating subjects available to us, we talked about you. For over an hour. On my phone bill!"
"What did he say?"
"Well, once we got past the 'have you told him how you feel' part of the conversation, mostly gasps and groans and 'oh my God don't stop Methos' type things."
"Bloody hell! What were you doing, Amanda?"
"Helping out a friend in need. He misses you. I surpassed myself, Methos. I gave him some of the best phone sex I've ever done-- and believe me, I've done some great phone sex. But did he want a genuine, patented, hot-as-hell Amanda moment? Oh, noooooo. His fantasies these days are all about a pale, skinny old man with a lousy disposition and a big nose."
"Methos, if I were going to lie about this, don't you think I could come up with something a little less humiliating?"
"What did he...did you...was he..."
"Just ask, Methos. What was his fantasy about you?"
"That you're his."
"Just 'his,' Methos."
"Exactly what does that mean?"
"Clueless. Both of you-- absolutely clueless. He's just as repressed and delusional as you are. The two of you have all the emotional maturity of sixth-graders."
"That's so helpful, Amanda."
"He's in love with you and he thinks you're not in love with him. And somewhere deep down inside, he's sure that someday you're going to leave him, and he won't be able to stop you. So he fantasizes about owning you. Basically, he's as scared and screwed up as you are. But the difference is that Duncan MacLeod doesn't run away when he's scared, Methos."
"He fantasizes about 'owning' me? I don't do 'slave', Amanda. Been there when it was happening, done the whole thing. Burned the t-shirt and scattered the ashes."
"Be serious. It's not that kind of 'owning,' and you know it. Owning as in the two of you belonging together. Exclusively and monogamously-- with the exception of me, of course."
"But of course."
"Goes without saying."
"Naturally. Amanda, was it really that simple? No whips? No chains? No oiled slave girls standing by with branding irons and ostrich plumes?"
"Well, he didn't actually say anything that would rule out the chains and the ostrich plumes, and I'm always willing to do the slave girl bit whenever the two of you want, but yes-- it was that simple."
"He really needs our help, doesn't he? The man has no imagination. Right off the top of my head, I can think of absolutely dozens of really kinky, sexy things we haven't done yet."
"Do I take it you've decided to postpone the disappearing act?"
"You've convinced me not to take off without talking to him, yes."
"Since I'm being so cooperative..."
"Tell me a little more about this fantasy of Duncan's."
"What do you want to know, specifically?"
"Details, Amanda. All the juicy details. You do want Duncan to be happy, don't you? Wasn't that the entire point of this little heart-to-heart? I'm not that much of an egotist, Amanda. I'm sure it took more than just the idea of 'owning' me to make it work for him."
"Amanda, love, how can I cater to his every desire if I don't know exactly what he wants? Ambience, love. Talk to me."
"Okay, but you have to promise me that if any of it upsets you, you won't use it against him."
"Upset me? Amanda, I've done everything. What could Duncan possibly fantasize about that would upset me?"
"It's not that bad, Methos-- really it's not. He's not in love with 'Adam.' He's in love with 'Methos.' But he does have a few sexual fantasies about Adam."
"What kind of sexual fantasies? And be very specific."
"The standard 'over-power and throw him to the bed' type fantasies. The no frills version. Really generic testosterone fueled he-man stuff. Jeez, Methos! What did you expect? Adam was so damned sweet and innocent, he nearly bent over and begged for it. Just the idea gets Duncan hot and bothered, but I don't think he can see trying that with 'Methos.'"
"Damn. I wondered why he..."
"A-ha! Truth time! You've tried to get him to do the Heartless Brute bit, haven't you?"
"Once or twice. Unsuccessfully. He never would take the hint."
"And you really, really want him to, don't you?"
"I thought it might be fun, yes."
"You want it badly, don't you Methos?"
"I understand perfectly, Methos. Sometimes you don't want a Boy Scout. Sometimes you want him to be so over-whelmingly hot for you that he forgets all of that flirting and necking he enjoys so much. You want to fast-forward through that whole courting and seduction scene that he does so well. Skip those long, breathless hours that he's willing to spend caressing you, stroking you, slowly driving you insane."
"It's mind-blowing, but sometimes..."
"I know. Sometimes you just want to walk through the door and find him so close to the edge that he loses it-- just grabs you and rips your clothes off, right? You don't want him to be gentle, you want him to pull you to him and hold you so tightly you can't breathe. You don't want to be stroked, you want his hands to touch you roughly, with more than a hint of violence-- claiming, not caressing. You want him to remember that you're a man and an Immortal, not delicate, not fragile. You don't want him to worry, or even care, if he hurts you a little."
"Or a lot."
"Ooo-kay. You want him to pick you up and throw you onto the bed. No choices, no options. He's drowning in you, Methos. He wants you, and he's going to have you. Nothing else matters-- not what you want, not his civilized manners, not his Boy Scout rules."
"What now, Methos?"
"Not the bed. Against the wall."
"Against the wall. Gottcha. In the shower. He walks in and sees you there-- wet, glistening, hard. And his. Every inch of hot, pale skin-- his. Every sleek muscle, every tortured nerve ending- - his. Every helpless response, every breathless moan-- his. Every whimper, every scream-- his. And you are going to scream for him, Methos. He wants to hear you scream, and he's going to make you do it. Tonight, he doesn't care what it takes, or what line he has to cross. He doesn't care if you're not in the mood. He doesn't care if you're not ready. This isn't about you at all, Methos. It's about Duncan, it's about what he wants."
"He wants your hot, wet mouth around his cock, Methos. Now. He pushes you to the floor and shoves it against your lips. Open your mouth and take it, Methos. He doesn't care if you can breathe. He wants it so badly that he doesn't give a shit if he's choking you. Suck on it, Methos. God, it tastes so good, doesn't it? Hold onto his hips and let him fuck your mouth. He can do anything he wants to, can't he ? You're his."
"He wants to fuck you now, Methos. He wants to hear the breath rush out of your body when he pulls you up and shoves you against the wall. And he pins you there-- his. He wants to hear you moan when he holds your hips so hard he stamps his fingerprints into your skin, marking you, branding you-- his. And then, for a moment, he slides one hand around you and squeezes your swollen, leaking cock-- his. Do you moan for him then, Methos?"
"Oh God, Duncaaaaan..."
"Thought so. But it's not enough, Methos. You have to scream for him, love. So his large, strong hands part your ass, and he enters you. Quickly, almost brutally-- there's no time, no effort wasted on oils, or lotions, or preparing you to be fucked. Just his flesh and yours, and water and blood, Methos. Does it burn when he pushes his cock into you like that, tearing you open? Does it ache clear down to your toes? Does it make you sob, Methos? Are there hot, blinding tears running down your face? He doesn't care, Methos. It feels so good to him, taking you like this, hard and fast. So good, feeling your slender body helpless against him, shivering, writhing, struggling. His arms, his body, his cock. He's got you nailed to the wall three ways, Old Man. You're not going anywhere, and he loves it. He's going to shove that big cock into you over and over, harder and faster, pushing, tearing..."
"Are you going to call Duncan now?"
"And are you going to be good?"
"More than. You won't recognize the new and improved Methos."
"Was Duncan's fantasy really that...?"
"Are you kidding? Duncan? That was a custom-made, manufactured especially for Methos fantasy-- only one to a customer. Duncan's Brute fantasy was a bit less...brutal."
"A bit less?"
"Okay. A lot less. What can I tell you? He's Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. His version of The Brute calls ahead and shows up with wine and flowers."
"Sounds very familiar. I think we've met."
"Well, I've done my part. You two are going to have to meet somewhere in the middle."
"I'll dust off Adam and get him ready."
"Not too much Adam, just a hint. He loves you, Methos-- not the Geek Prince, no matter how cute he is. And let Duncan be a little romantic."
"Next time you're bored...?"
"Don't worry, hon. I've got your number."