Rated NC-17 for homoerotic content.
*Glucose Warning !!!* Extreme mushiness ahead, including the Mary Sue of a teddy bear. If you don't think grown men of the Immortal variety should have anything to do with teddy bears, escape immediately. We blame this one on PMS, that's our story and we're sticking to it.
Just a sweet, sappy PWP, that fits in loosely after Unguarded Moments.
Story title borrowed without permission from David Bowie
Cold and rainy, what a surprise. Duncan groaned, pulling the covers around him as he burrowed further into the warmth of the bed. It seemed as though it had been raining ever since Methos had left. It was almost two weeks since the old man had gone back to Paris to settle his affairs. Duncan was surprised by how easily Methos had agreed to move in with him, delighted, actually.
Now, he was not so delighted. He was pining for Methos, had been for days. He was sleeping late, being lazy in workouts and not eating much. He knew he was behaving the same way he had when Methos had walked out on him that first morning on the barge. It was different this time, Methos was coming back to stay, to share his life with Duncan. So why was he mopey and miserable?
"Because I'm in love with him and he's three thousand miles away," Duncan mumbled to himself as he reluctantly climbed out of bed.
Heading for the coffee maker he caught a glimpse of the white gift box on the floor under his desk. He shook his head and wondered if the gift he'd bought on impulse for Methos was a mistake. No matter, he would probably lose his nerve and not give it to him anyway.
Duncan pulled his robe tighter around himself and poured a cup of coffee. He sank into his chair, watching the blankets of rain crash against his windows. He let out a huge sigh; lonely didn't begin to describe how he felt.
Before he could spend another moment contemplating his misery he felt that familiar, welcome, buzz and was at the door in four huge strides. He flung the door open to find a very wet and miserable Methos.
Pulling the soggy old man into his arms he slammed the door behind them. Methos' duffel fell from his hands as Mac covered the cold, almost blue lips with his own warm, full mouth for a ravishing kiss.
"I missed you too," Methos' voice was shaky as he beamed at Duncan, "You can be very romantic MacLeod, but now you're soaking wet, too."
Duncan just chuckled and pulled the cold, wet body closer to his. All of the gloom of the last few days washed away as he picked up Methos' duffel and led them into the loft.
"You're soaked to the skin, what did you do, walk from the airport? Why didn't you call me?" Duncan scolded as he peeled off Methos' coat.
"Yeah, well, I did take a cab, but it got a flat about five blocks from here, so I walked."
Methos' shoes made a sloshing noise as he walked to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Duncan noticed he was dripping everywhere he went, leaving a trail of small puddles behind him. The short, dark hair was plastered to his face and the patrician nose was red from the walk in the bitter October storm. The oversized sweater was drenched and it hung down farther than usual on the lean frame.
Standing in the kitchen dripping wet, pink faced, his sweater stretched ridiculously big from the weight of the rain it had absorbed, Methos looked almost child-like.
"How about you finish that cup of coffee and I put you in a nice hot bath?" Duncan beamed at Methos.
"That sounds wonderful," Methos smiled and finished his coffee in three gulps. "As long as you're getting in with me."
"You couldn't keep me out if you tried," Duncan told him, devouring the shivering, soggy form of his lover with his eyes.
"I wouldn't try."
Methos was so very glad to see Duncan, to be here in the warm loft. Paris had been cold and rainy and lonely. He had missed Mac even more than he had thought he would. Not even more of the cold rain he had left behind that greeted him when he stepped off the plane had managed to diminish his happiness to be back. "Home", actually. It felt a little strange to him, but he practiced the thought in his head, looking around the loft for the first time. He noticed several boxes of his books stacked against the wall. He had shipped them ahead from his apartment, the rest of his things would arrive later in the week.
"Itís good to be home," he spoke the thought aloud and was rewarded with a brilliant smile.
"Itís good to have you back," Mac whispered, pulling him close for another long, warm kiss. "Let's get you in that bath, you're freezing."
Mac's voice was an invitation and he felt his body temperature rise several degrees as he followed him to the bathroom.
Duncan turned on the taps of the big claw footed tub and poured in a generous amount of bath oil. The soothing scent of rosemary and heather rose from the steaming water as Duncan turned to peel the sodden sweater from his body.
"I missed you," Methos told him again, reaching hungrily for his lips as Duncan's hands went to his jeans.
"How much?" Duncan teased, squatting to fight with the wet laces of his hiking boots.
He was covered with goose bumps, only partially to be blamed on the rain. The bathroom was warm and Duncan's arms even warmer as he enfolded the naked, shivering man in his robe, wrapping it around them both. Methos pressed his cheek to Duncan's shoulder, inhaling his scent.
"I am not leaving this loft until it stops raining," Methos mumbled, kissing the hard muscles.
"I hope it rains all week," Duncan told him, slipping off his robe and guiding Methos into the bathtub.
The older Immortal groaned in pleasure as he sank under the hot water. Duncan stepped in behind him, settling with his knees drawn up and pulling Methos back against his chest. Methos relaxed, letting his head fall back to rest on Duncan's shoulder.
Under the warm water, Mac's hands caressed him, touching him everywhere. The bath oil Mac had used made their skin slide easily against each other. Strong hands slid down his sides to stroke his hips, then wrapped around him to pull him tight. There was a suspicious bulge at the small of his back and he shifted restlessly against it, causing Duncan to hold him even tighter. Mac was pressing warm kisses against the back of his neck that made him shiver.
"How was Paris?" Duncan murmured, nipping his earlobe.
"Cold. Wet. Lonely," the last was almost a moan. Duncan's mouth was devouring his neck with small nips and bites, sucking at the spot below his ear until he squirmed, gasping. Mac's breathing was harsh in his ear and he could feel his sex throbbing against the base of his spine. Duncan's hands were between his legs, stroking him to aching hardness.
Methos arched his back, twisting in Duncan's arms to reach his lips. Their mouths communicated their urgency, as their tongues dueled in a mock battle for supremacy. Duncan's hands moved slowly from his erection to the back of his neck. Strong fingers pressed hard into the base of his skull, Mac's large hand spanning the back of his neck to hold him still. Duncan's mouth devoured his with bruising force, his tongue claiming him with a hungry possession.
"Please," Methos gasped, and the iron grip at the back of his neck eased enough for him to see Mac's eyes. They had gone almost black with desire, the pupils dilated and glassy. He could feel Duncan's need in his quickening, a restless energy that sparked between them.
"Please Mac, don't tease me. Don't make me wait. I need you."
Strong hands at his hips lifted him up, settling his body so that he lay stretched full length on top of his lover. They were almost the same height, which made this difficult. Duncan pulled him up a little higher, sliding down until Methos' head rested on the edge of the tub.
"Is this going to work?" Methos gasped, having very little say in the matter, lying prone on top of his partner. The oil in the bath made getting a good grip on the side of the tub difficult, but would also make penetration easier.
Duncan's erection pushed experimentally between his cheeks and he arched his back, trying to find the right angle. Methos had the presence of mind to grope for the plug. If they didn't drain some of the water from the deep tub, it was likely one of them would drown.
Duncan's hand at the small of his back lifted him up, his other hand guiding his hard cock between Methos' cheeks. He paused, the tip of his cock pressed to the small opening. Methos arched above him, his muscles straining, his body drawn into a tight arc. His hands on either side of the tub braced his weight, allowing Mac to slowly press into him. There was a moment of pain and Mac went absolutely still inside him, waiting for his body to accept the invasion.
"Gods," Methos exhaled as Duncan guided him down on the hard cock pushing into him. It felt huge. Methos could feel him pulsing inside him, could feel Duncan's quickening rushing to meet his own, the energy flowing back and forth restlessly between them. He took a deep breath and relaxed against his lover, impaling himself on the hard shaft.
Duncan could feel the moan that rose from his lover's chest as Methos stretched and shifted against him, anxious to find the angle that would ease the burn and allow them to melt together.
Duncan's arms encircled him, his voice was soft in his ear. Encouraging him to relax, to lie back against him. Large brown hands covered his white knuckles where they grasped the lip of the bathtub, releasing them, taking his weight, and enfolding him in his arms. Duncan was completely buried inside him, Methos could feel him throbbing in every nerve of his body. They breathed together, the sound harsh in the silence. He turned his head into Duncan's neck, feeling the burn of tears in the corners of his eyes. It was so powerful, the feeling of having Duncan inside him. Methos sobbed once into his neck, overwhelmed by emotion.
"Shh. I love you. Itís okay. You feel so good," Duncan told him. The murmur of Mac's voice in his ear comforting and familiar.
Duncan's hand moved to curl around him, circling his hips in a subtle motion that sent shivers of pleasure racing through his body.
"Ohh," the cry escaped Methos' lips as Duncan began to thrust upward slowly, the pace of their lovemaking restrained by the close confines of the tub and their position.
"Yes," Duncan groaned in answer as Methos tightened around him, pulling him into incredible heat. He moved slowly, drawing out the pleasure, wanting to hear the soft mewing sounds as Methos arched to meet him.
His lover was quite helpless, unable to do much to quicken the pace, lying on his back on top of him. Duncan raised the narrow hips, holding Methos off his cock slightly so that he could pull out a little, thrusting even deeper. He held the beautiful, straining body like this for as long as he could, raising his own hips to pump into him. It was a little awkward, the water slowing his sharp thrusts. Methos twisted in his arms, panting, fighting the slow, teasing pleasure of his movements, but unable to do more. Just as the muscles in his arms began to tremble, threatening to give out, he heard Methos moan above him.
"Mac, please," he panted, "I need... please, I have to..." his words dissolved into a groan as Duncan lifted him off his erection. A good amount of water ended up on the floor as they both rose to their knees, Methos leaning forward to brace himself at the head of the tub.
Duncan's entry was smooth and swift, the oil in the bath water making the devastating penetration nothing but mind shattering pleasure, as Methos felt him sink deep inside him. His hips thrust back to meet his lover, growling his pleasure when Duncan's teeth closed over the skin at the back of his neck. Duncan held his hip, his other hand reaching for his lover's cock as he pulled out, moaning when Methos' muscles tensed around him, seeking to hold him deep in the tight, hot body.
"Hard," Methos moaned, as Duncan increased the pace of his thrusts, Methos pushed back to meet him each time. His body trembled violently as he felt Mac begin to lose control, his cock slamming into him with near brutal force. His orgasm rushed to overtake him, every muscle in his body straining as the wave of release shuddered through him. He arched against his lover, feeling the warmth of his come spilling into him as his body clenched around the hard cock, feeling as though he would drown in the pleasure.
Duncan collapsed against the trembling body, happier than he could ever remember being. There were no words to express his joy, he wrapped his arms around Methos, nuzzling the back of his neck with soft kisses. Methos leaned back against him, waiting for his heartbeat to slow down. Mac held him until he shivered, goose bumps rising on the pale flesh. The air had grown chilly, and Mac rose, reaching for a towel.
Duncan reached for Methos, enfolding him in the thick bath sheet and helping him from the tub.
"You're too good to me," Methos told him humorously from under the towel. Duncan was drying his hair, one arm wrapped around his waist to hold him close.
The damp towel was pulled away and he found Duncan gazing into his eyes intently. The warmth in those eyes spread over him. He answered with simple certainty.
"No, you deserve it. You deserve to be loved."
Methos raised his hand to touch Duncan's face, speechless. Duncan said the most earth shattering things, with such absolute certainty. He swallowed around the lump in his throat, turning in Mac's arms as he was guided. Duncan dried him carefully and wrapped him in a dark green robe from his closet. Squeezing the water from his hair he dried himself quickly, and grabbing his robe, followed Methos from the bathroom.
They sprawled together on the couch, each unwilling to let go of the other for long. Duncan's arms encircled Methos' waist, pulling him close.
"So did you get the flat rented?" Duncan asked, unable to keep the eagerness from his voice.
"Yes, to a very boring man who will probably not appreciate the view at all," Methos answered sourly, but he couldn't help returning Mac's grin.
"That's great. You know, I was thinking, we could knock out that back wall, build an extra room or two if you'd like a little bit more space in here."
Duncan's voice was casual, his lips grazing the back of his neck. Methos smiled, leaning back into Duncan's embrace. Duncan was asking him if he wanted his own space. Did he needed to separate himself from the Highlander's overpowering presence? It was a generous offer, and perhaps the fact that Mac was so willing to make it lent certainty to his quick decision. He turned in Duncan's arms to meet the warm brown eyes.
Everything Duncan felt was visible in his face, in his eyes, it was something Methos found impossibly attractive. Duncan's honesty, his lack of artifice, his openness and his remarkable capacity to love.
"Well, we may need some more room for bookshelves, a library would be wonderful, but I don't want my own room." His voice turned husky, "We only need one bed, and I like not having doors to slam. I don't think you should give me a place to stalk away from you to."
Duncan's eyes went sleepy, his voice was seductive, "I want you to sleep next to me every night for the rest of my life."
Methos smiled, silently wishing that fate would grant it be a long, long life.
"I will," he kissed him, turning his promise into a vow, as if by will alone he could grant his love's desire. "I will stay with you to the end, or as long as we both survive. I hope it is all as perfect as this, but even if it is not, I will not leave you, not unless you ask me to."
"Never," Duncan whispered against Methos' lips, kissing him with languid intensity.
The rain had slowed to a steady drizzle at the windows.
"Are you hungry?" Duncan asked him, "There's not much here, but we could get something delivered."
"No, not yet." Methos had lost all track of time, jet lag and MacLeod were an exhausting combination, but he guessed it to be somewhere around midday.
"Have you drank all the beer?"
Duncan chuckled, "Well, the Bert Grant's is gone, but I think there's still two Wicked Ale's in the back, hiding behind some sort of leftover thing."
Methos made a face, "That settles it, I am going to have to find a liquor store that delivers in this town."
He wandered over to the fridge, foraging among unidentifiable foil wrapped objects for the promised beer. Returning to the living room with his booty Methos spotted the gift box tucked under the desk. Taking a long, satisfying sip of his beer, he sauntered over to inspect it more closely.
"What's this MacLeod?"
Duncan was turning a very becoming shade of pink.
"Something you forgot to mention Mac?" Methosí voice was light but his gaze had turned suspicious.
Duncan ducked his head, hiding behind his long hair.
"I, um... got it for you, but you're not going to like it... Itís silly, I don't know why I did it," Duncan mumbled, embarrassed.
"A present?" Methos eyed the box greedily, but he was still suspicious of Mac's odd reaction to his discovery. "Why won't I like it? Does it bite?"
Duncan's face was bright red, but he laughed, "No, definitely not." Realizing that there would be no deterring Methos now, he mumbled resignedly, "I guess you'd better open it."
Methos threw his lover a questioning look over his shoulder before turning back to tear the velvet ribbon from the mysterious box. Duncan watched him apprehensively as he tore into the box, cursing himself for being a sentimental fool. Methos would laugh at him, if he wasn't so offended that he stalked right back out of the loft.
He was brown, with large intelligent eyes, and wore a red sweater. Methos cocked his head to the side, contemplating the box. "You bought me a teddy bear MacLeod?" He sounded as if he wasn't really sure that the bear was intended for him.
Duncan stayed on the couch, and still wouldn't look at him. "I just figured... a 5000 year old man probably never had a teddy bear," Duncan mumbled, feeling ridiculous.
Methos cocked his head to the other side, studying the bear carefully. "Itís incredibly sentimental and romantic of you MacLeod, but you're right, I've never had a teddy bear. He does seem like a friendly little fellow." Methos added, lifting the bear from his box.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me," Duncan was still talking to the floor.
"Hello, what's you're name then little fellow?" Methos was undressing the bear, removing his knit sweater to inspect him more carefully. Duncan watched from under his hair, hopeful but still feeling foolish.
"Simon it is. I hope you don't mind sleeping under the blankets, I'm not sure I want anyone else to know you're around. Itís a bit dangerous I'm afraid, you should know you might one day wake up with a sword at your throat." Duncan watched, amazed, as Methos prattled on to his new friend. Simon was hugged experimentally, then had his sweater tugged back over his ears.
Methos tucked his new friend under his arm, crossing the room to sit next to Duncan on the couch.
"You are one of a kind MacLeod," he touched his lover's face lightly with his fingertips, "Only you would decide I need a teddy bear."
Duncan grinned, meeting his eyes, "You always end up curled up around your pillow when you sleep, and he just sort of said 'buy me'. You're not offended are you?"
Methos kissed him, very softly, "No, I just feel loved," he whispered against Duncan's warm lips.
"You are," the Highlander replied, returning Methos kiss with several of his own. Their frenzied coupling in the bathtub had relieved the immediate need to connect, and taken the edge off their hunger, so that now the passion built slowly.
Duncan pressed his forehead to Methos' as he gently ran his fingers through the short, soft spikes of dark hair. A devastating smile spread across the ancient Immortal's face as Mac leaned in for a long, deep kiss. He tried to pour all the feelings he had into the kiss, as though he was feeding Methos his love through their joined lips. Methos felt the intensity of the kiss and returned it tenfold. Unconditional love was not something he was well acquainted with, and Mac gave it so sweetly. As he lost himself to the kiss he wondered what he could have possibly done to deserve this bliss.
Methos snuggled further into Mac's arms, smiling up at him, "So, what shall we do with the rest of this rainy day, Duncan? Remember, I am not leaving this loft until the downpour ends, I mean it."
Duncan hugged his lover to him possessively. "Well, we could go downstairs and have a good spar, or we could just stay here and wallow in laziness, maybe watch a movie. I think I have popcorn."
Methos looked down, and spoke a few quiet words to the bear tucked under his arm, then back up at Mac, "We'll take the movie, but it's got to be black and white."
Duncan laughed, overjoyed by Methos' acceptance of his whimsical gift. "Deal. Here's the remote, you find a movie, I'll go see about that popcorn."
Finding the perfect sprawl on Duncan's couch, Methos flipped through the channels, searching for AMC. He found it just as the previews started, telling him that Katherine Hepburn was their featured artist for the month.
"How's the popcorn coming MacLeod?"
"Do you want butter on this?"
"Okay, but you have to promise to work out with me tomorrow."
"All right, deal, hurry up, the movie's about to start."
Duncan returned to the sofa with a large bowl of hot popcorn, settling in behind Methos. "What are we watching?"
"Shh... it's Bob Dorian. We like him, don't we Simon?"
The man on the t.v. told Duncan that their feature presentation was the classic "Philadelphia Story" Starring Katherine Hepburn, Cary Grant, and Jimmy Stewart.
"Philadelphia Story, that's perfect!" Leaning down, he cocked his head, listening to the new companion tucked under his arm, "Yes, yes, Simon, 'Paging C. Dexter Haven', that's the one."
Duncan laughed, the pure joy of seeing his love so content spilling out of him.
"You are wonderful to have, Methos, I'm so glad you're home."
"Me too." Methos beamed at Duncan, lightly brushing his lips in a soft kiss. "Watch the movie."
I've nothing much to offer
There's nothing much to take
I'm an absolute beginner
And I'm absolutely sane
As long as we're together
The rest can go to hell
I absolutely love you
But we're absolute beginners
With eyes completely open
But nervous all the same
Song lyrics borrowed without permission from David Bowie.