Attention: This is an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. Expect things to be wacky.
That said, this story takes place in it's own time
period. Zen&nancy no longer feel the need to
comply to TPTB's time lines.
Story title and lyrics borrowed without permission from Bob Marley (r.i.p.)
Mucho thanks to Suze for always being there, and to
MoonPuppy, who is crazy enough to be
resident beta at the House Of Slack, and the wonderful people who have written us, we're still in
shock that people like this soap opera.
Vive la RSM!
Three Little Birds
Jim Ellison was giving the heavyweight bag a run for it's money. He hit it as hard as he could, over and over again. His knuckles were going to be swollen and sore tomorrow, in spite of the gloves he wore. He didn't care, he had to do something, and this was better than sitting upstairs in his apartment listening to Blair pace above him.
He was playing his Bob Marley tape, which worried Jim. He always played that tape when something was seriously upsetting him. Every time he'd gone undercover without him, he'd come home to find Blair curled up asleep in his clothes on the couch, the tape set to play over and over in the deck. He'd played it after Lash, too, singing one song in particular over and over again.
Jim had kept his hearing tuned to his Guide since the moment he'd walked out of the loft. He couldn't help it, Blair was afraid, and he couldn't bring himself to leave him entirely, no matter how angry he was. It was easy to see that Blair knew, or at least that he thought, that Duncan was in danger. His Guide's reactions were something he could read with almost faultless accuracy, and upstairs in the loft Blair hadn't even tried to hide his anxiety.
In made him so angry, that after all this time, and everything that had happened, that Blair would hide something this important from him. He was still pacing the loft, singing softly to himself. //singin' don't worry, about a thing, cause every little thing, is gonna be alright.// Jim listened to his Guide's voice, keeping it turned down low and at the back of his consciousness. Blair had taught him that trick, how to turn his senses down to 'monitor' mode. He could tune into something far away, and then push it into the background, so that he could still be aware of what was going on around him. It didn't work all time, but when it came to Blair, it was so much easier. Jim's senses were reaching out to Blair most of the time anyway. He was always peripherally aware of his Guide, no matter what else was happening. Most of the time, it felt like an automatic reaction, to listen for Blair's physical responses to what was going on around them.
It hurt, that Blair put Duncan's trust before his, and it made him suspicious. What was Blair protecting Duncan from by not telling him? Jim hit the bag harder, making it swing a long way away from him and hitting it again when it when it swung half way back. It helped, to throw punches and not care how hard he hit. He fully intended to be here when Duncan walked in the door. He was going to figure out what was going on here, even if he had to sit on Duncan until he told him.
When Mac came through the door forty-five minutes later, Jim raced to his side, all thoughts of making Mac talk forgotten. His sweater was covered with blood, and sliced across his stomach. It looked bad. He was breathing without difficulty, though, and a quick scan of his senses told him he'd gotten here in time. He wasn't in shock yet, although his heart was racing, and his body temperature was above normal.
Jim reached Duncan's side, grabbing his arm and trying to lay him down on the floor. "I'm going to call an ambulance, you're gonna be okay, Mac, lie down."
"Jim! Wait!" Duncan reached out with surprising strength and restrained him, not allowing Jim to walk away. "I'm not hurt, I'm fine."
"Mac!" Jim started to argue, and then he stopped, letting his senses take in what he'd been too focused to see the first time. Duncan wasn't bleeding, he wasn't even bruised. Jim reached for the long tear in his sweater, ripping it apart so that he could see. When he did, his mouth dropped open, and he stood frozen, in total shock. Mac's stomach was perfectly smooth, not the slightest mark beneath the torn, bloody cloth. His hands moved up, grabbing handfuls of the cloth at Duncan's shoulders and backing him forcefully up against the wall.
"What the hell are you?"
Duncan's eyes stared into his, furiously, "Get your hands off me!" His hands came up between them to break Jim's hold, pushing him back with both of his hands in the center of Jim's chest. "Back off!"
The Quickening was racing through his body, making it almost impossible to reign in his temper. Duncan didn't want to fight Jim, but if he didn't get away from him, he was going to. It had been a short fight, too short. He hadn't wanted it in the first place, and now there was nowhere for the extra anger to go.
"Duncan, you'd better start talking, right now. If you're endangering Blair here, I swear to God..." Jim took two steps towards him, getting right back into his face. He was yelling, his fists clenched at his sides.
"Get out of my face!" Duncan shouted back, turning abruptly and stalking down the hall to the lift. Jim stayed right on his heels, still shouting.
"You are going to tell me what the fuck is going on here, you got that?"
"Leave me alone!" Duncan growled back, stalking furiously down the hallway. It was almost impossible to restrain himself. He wanted to turn around and punch Jim in the face.
"If you think you can get Blair mixed up in this without me finding out what the hell is going on you are dead wrong pal!" Jim had followed him into the elevator, slamming the gate down.
Duncan lost it. He grabbed Jim, spinning him around and slamming him into the wall behind them. "I'm not endangering Blair!"
"How can you tell me you're not endangering Blair when you jump up and run out of the house and come back covered in blood, trying to tell me nothing's wrong? What the fuck kind of game are you trying to play here?"
"I don't have to explain myself to you."
"Oh yes you do!"
The elevator stopped and Duncan threw up the gate, stalking into the loft and right into Blair, who had jumped up from the couch to run to him.
"Duncan!" Blair tried to wrap his arms around him, but Duncan pulled roughly away, stalking across the loft to the bathroom.
"Go ahead, tell him! I can't deal with this."
The bathroom door slammed and Blair turned to Jim, who was standing between Duncan's chair and his desk, where Duncan had stopped. He looked at his Guide, anger narrowing his eyes. "What's going on, Sandburg? No more bullshit."
"Sit down, Jim, try and relax." Blair took a deep breath, his brain shifting quickly into second gear. The moment Duncan had appeared, total relief had flooded through him. Realizing the level of tension between his lover and his Sentinel had thrown his adrenaline right back into full swing. Now an even greater sense of relief swept through him, and he had to sit down, falling hard into the corner of the couch. Duncan was going to let him tell Jim. He made himself follow his own instructions along with his Sentinel, telling him to take a deep breath. They exhaled slowly together, angry blue eyes staring into calm, relieved ones.
"This is gonna take awhile to explain, I need you to just calm down and try to relax here, Jim. Duncan's gonna be okay, he's fine, he's just really stressed out and hyper right now. He'll calm down, okay?"
"I'll calm down when I find out what the hell's going on around here. Did you lie to me, Blair?"
Blair could hear the hurt in the angry accusation. He reached for Jim's hand, not surprised when he pulled away. "No. I didn't lie to you, Jim. I wouldn't do that, man. This is going to take some explaining though. Just try and listen with an open mind, okay?"
Jim crossed him arms over his chest. "I'm listening."
"Okay, um... Duncan is Immortal, he isn't human. He doesn't grow old, he can't get sick, and he can't die. Well, there's one way he can die, if you take his head. He just fought another Immortal, and took his Quickening. It's a kind of transfer of the life force. When one Immortal takes another's head the winner absorbs the other's Quickening, their energy, and it adds to his power. It also leaves you really hyper, sometimes worse than others. I'm sure he didn't mean to yell at you, it's just really hard to-"
Jim interrupted, unable to let Blair ramble any longer. "Sandburg, do you hear what you're telling me? You expect me to believe this?"
"Listen to me. Am I lying to you? Duncan is four hundred years old. He is Immortal. He just took another Immortal's head."
Jim shook his head, frowning. "Look, Sandburg, as much as you like to think so, I am not a God damn walking crime lab. No, I don't think you're lying. That doesn't mean this nonsense is true. Just because he gave you some crazy line and you believed it-"
Blair interrupted him, "Like when I told you about Sentinels?"
Jim's memory flashed back to the morning they'd talked about it in the park, and Duncan had compared what he couldn't tell him to his own Sentinel abilities. "You're trying to tell me Duncan is four hundred years old?"
"Four hundred and seven. He'll be four hundred and eight next week."
"You're serious?" Jim's eyes bore into his Guide, trying to find something to make this easier to understand.
"He's an Immortal. They're a race that's been around as long as we have, but it's always been kept a secret. They don't live as a society, they fight each other, because in the end there can be only one."
Duncan came out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist. He stopped at the dresser, pulling a pair of jeans out his drawer and yanking them on without bothering to turn his back to them.
"I see we're just getting to the good part." He spoke sarcastically, going straight from his dresser to the desk, ignoring Blair's concerned look, and Jim's angry one.
Reaching for the Scotch, he poured himself a triple shot and carried it and the bottle back to the couch. He stood for a moment, looking belligerently at the Sentinel before drinking and flopping down between them.
"Don't let me stop you. Keep going."
Blair wanted to reach for Duncan's hand, but he didn't allow himself to. He took a deep breath, and continued. It felt strange, to be telling Jim Duncan's secret in front of him. "Okay, um, there's something called the Prize, it's what you get when you're the last Immortal alive, when you've absorbed the Quickening power from all the others. Nobody really knows exactly what it is, but most Immortals and people who know about them generally associate the last fight with Armageddon and the end of the world. Or at least the end of the way the world is now."
"We're getting a little off track here, Chief. I'm still working on the "he can't die" part. Can I get some hard proof on this, or do you expect me to just believe it?"
Duncan leaned forward, reaching for the bottle. He poured and slammed another drink, coughing as he set the glass back down. His body was starting to react to the alcohol, and calm down a little. "I'd really rather not get blood all over this couch. I'm sick of cleaning it up."
"Jim, I don't think Duncan's really up to killing himself for you right now, okay? Can I go back to what I was trying to tell you, about the Game?"
"No, you can't. You expect me to just believe that if he dies he'll magically come back to life?"
"Oh for God sakes, Blair, get me a knife." Duncan reached for the bottle again, pouring his third drink in as many minutes.
"Duncan, I don't think that's a good idea right now..."
"Just get me a knife, Caro. I'd like to deal with this and get it over with."
What he wanted, was for Jim to get the hell out of his house, and to get Blair out of those clothes and naked beneath him as quickly as possible. He needed it, and the faster he could get Jim to believe him, the quicker he would go downstairs.
Blair sighed in exasperation, and got up from the corner of the couch, going into the kitchen and coming back with the butcher knife. "Here." He offered the knife to Duncan, handle first, still trying to talk him out of it. "If you guys would just let me talk..."
Duncan turned away from him, sitting sideways on the couch facing Jim. "You want to do it? Just so that we have an understanding this isn't a parlor trick?" Duncan pushed the knife handle into Jim's hand, holding out his arm. "Cut me."
"You're serious?" Jim held the knife, staring at Duncan's fist on his knee. He'd pushed up his sleeve, turning his forearm up to expose his skin.
"Go on, do it." Duncan's eyes challenged him, and Jim reached out to take Duncan's arm in his other hand. He held it still, bringing the edge of the knife to rest against his skin. Duncan's eyes held his steadily, showing no trace of fear.
Jim pressed the knife slowly into Duncan's skin, drawing it lightly across his arm. The skin didn't break, and Duncan exhaled in exasperation, "Oh, for God's sakes!" He grabbed the knife back, closing his left hand into a fist to flex the muscle before gouging a deep cut into his forearm. He pulled the knife back, hissing through his clenched teeth.
"What is this supposed to prove?" Jim asked him furiously, shocked by how deeply Duncan had cut himself. He grabbed his arm, trying to put pressure on the wound. Something sparked under his hand, and he pulled back sharply. Blue lines of energy sizzled across Duncan's skin, and as it did, the flesh closed, as if it we're being knit back together.
"Jesus Christ!" Jim grabbed Duncan's arm again, running his finger's lightly over the smooth, unharmed skin. There was no scar, there was no mark at all, when a moment ago, he'd cut deeply into the muscle tissue. He stared at his bloody hands, and at Duncan's arm, unable to look away from the phenomenon.
Duncan endured Jim's hold for another moment before pulling his arm back, leaning forward for his drink. "Satisfied?" He threw the Scotch back, swallowing hard and turning back to Jim's stunned face.
"You're telling me that if you die, the same thing will happen?" Jim asked quietly, finally raising his eyes from Duncan's arm. He couldn't deny what he'd just seen, but it was too unbelievable to understand. How could it be possible, that Duncan wasn't human. How could his senses not have detected it?
"Yes. Unless you sever my head from my body."
"And you just killed somebody?"
"I fought a very stupid boy who thought that if he challenged Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod it would make him a man. I killed him because he left me no choice, not because I wanted to."
When Duncan leaned forward to pour himself another glass of whiskey Blair almost protested, and then he bit his tongue, realizing that it was helping Duncan to open up to Jim. He had a hard time remembering that Immortals could consume astonishing amounts of alcohol without getting sick.
"I'm sorry I didn't believe you, Mac," Jim spoke quietly, leaning back into the couch. He felt the pain in Duncan's eyes, and against his own resolve, empathized with it. He knew what it was like to have to kill because that person gave you no other alternative. It explained Duncan's explosive reaction when he'd cornered him downstairs, and now Jim remembered what that had felt like. He'd been terrified, when he saw the blood soaking Mac's sweater, before he'd seen the smooth, whole skin beneath.
Duncan sighed, and got up off the couch. He went to the sink, washing the blood off his healed skin. Jim followed him, washing his hands when Duncan had finished. Jim returned to Blair on the couch, who was watching them both carefully.
Taking his place in the corner opposite Blair, Jim tried to assimilate all the information his Guide had been trying to give him.
"So you're studying him? That's why..."
"No, not at all. This is a secret, you can't tell anybody. No matter what."
Jim nodded, accepting the responsibility. "All right. But you're telling me that you being with Duncan has nothing to do with his Immortality?"
"No, nothing at all," Blair shook his head, smiling at Duncan when he came back, falling down between them.
"I see," Jim spoke quietly, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice.
Duncan poured himself another glass, offering the bottle to Jim with a gesture of his hand. The Sentinel shook his head, watching Duncan gulp his fifth drink.
"You're gonna make yourself sick drinking like that."
Duncan laughed, and poured another. "No, I'm not. I could drink three more bottles and not get sick, or get a hangover. Actually, that doesn't sound like a bad idea." He picked up his glass again, slumping back against the couch.
It was obvious that he wasn't going to get rid of Jim anytime soon, so the next best solution was to drink himself to sleep. Blair was sitting next to him, his legs crossed beneath him on the cushion. He could feel the concern in his lover's watchful gaze, but Blair didn't try to touch him, and he was grateful.
"So you have to fight, you don't have a choice?" Jim asked, remembering the way Duncan had run out of the loft.
Blair answered for him, leaning forward to look at Jim around Duncan. "Not usually. Not all Immortals are like Duncan. Most of them are trying to win the Game, to kill as many Immortals as they can, and make themselves stronger for the Gathering."
"What's the Gathering?"
"It's what's going to happen, what's starting to happen now. The final battle, where they fight each other until there is only one left. Duncan has friends that are Immortal, like him, but strangers usually end up fighting when they meet. He can sense other Immortals, I think that it's probably kinda like your senses, a built-in defense system, to protect yourself. So today, when he felt the other Immortal, he left, so that he wouldn't bring the fight here. Duncan has drummed it into my head that any time we're out in public somewhere and he feels another presence, I'm supposed to run like hell, and get away from him. I'm not crazy about this rule, but I assume that it applies to you, too."
Blair looked at Duncan for confirmation, who turned to Jim, giving him a hard look. "Absolutely."
"What, you expect me to leave you to fend for yourself if some guy wants to chop your head off?"
"Yes, I do. Every time some guy wants to chop my head off. We need to understand that now." Duncan reached for the bottle again, pouring another shot.
"You gotta be kidding..."
"No! You cannot fight my battles."
"I was getting to that," Blair interrupted quietly, easing the tension between them with his voice when he continued. "Okay, so, what Immortals do, the fighting, it's called the Game. There are only a few rules, but you have to abide by them. Almost everybody does, if you don't, other Immortals will get pissed off and hunt you down and take your head. So, they always fight one on one. One Immortal can't interfere in the fight of another, no matter what the circumstances are. Holy ground, any religious place, is sacred, and they can't fight there. Sometimes Immortals chose not to fight, and stay on holy ground for years at a time. Duncan has an island that's Sioux holy ground, he lived with a Sioux tribe a long time ago."
Blair looked quickly at his lover, suddenly concerned that maybe he shouldn't have revealed Duncan's secret place, which he'd promised to take Blair to in the spring. Duncan shrugged, finishing off the last of the Scotch in his glass.
"It's no matter, you may as well tell him everything. Whatever he wants to know."
Jim was surprised to hear Duncan's accent get thicker as he drank. The bottle was half empty, and Mac poured himself another drink. Jim watched him carefully, trying to gauge the other man's mood. Duncan looked like he was starting to wind down a little, he'd been strung as tight as a bow when he'd first come home.
"You know you scared the shit out of me when you came in looking like that, Mac, but I think I'm starting to understand this. You don't have to worry, I'm not going to blow your cover. Is Duncan MacLeod really your name?"
"Of course it's my name," Duncan answered, as if it were a totally ridiculous question. He drank, watching Jim over the rim of the glass.
The other man shrugged, cocking his head at him. "Do all Immortals keep the same name they were born with?"
"But you did?"
"It's who I am."
Jim nodded, understanding. "Can you really remember everything that you've seen in four hundred years?"
Blair answered, drawing Jim's attention. "They have excellent memories. Duncan can remember things that happened hundreds of years ago vividly, like a childhood memory would be for you or me."
"Is it?" Duncan asked, slurring the words a little.
Blair smiled at him affectionately, thinking that Duncan was going to pass out on him about five seconds after Jim left. He'd probably wake up three hours later, horny as goat, but that was fine with him.
"Yeah, Duncan, it really is. Are there ones older than you?"
Duncan laughed, and then a strange look came into his eyes, before he gulped the Scotch in his glass and reached for the bottle again. "Aye, many times older."
Blair watched his lover's face. He was certain that he was thinking about Adam, who he might or might not meet at Christmas. He'd been trying not to worry about it, but now the look in Duncan's eyes brought a whole new set of concerns.
"How far back does this go? All the way?" Jim was determined to get as much information as he could out of Duncan before the other man passed out.
"Farther than you could imagine." Duncan answered, a sharp ache in his gut. He missed Methos, more than he thought he could miss another Immortal. If the old man didn't show up for his birthday, he was going to seriously consider hiring someone to try to find him.
"And some of these other Immortals are friendly, and some are gonna want to fight you to the death when you meet them. How do you tell the difference?"
Duncan laughed, painfully. "Sometimes you can't. Sometimes one becomes the other." He reached for the bottle, not bothering to pour it into his glass anymore.
Jim looked up at his Guide sharply, aware from the sudden rise in the tension level that he had inadvertently asked something he shouldn't have. Blair looked upset, but his eyes were shuttered.
"Most Immortals don't have other Immortal friends, they just don't see it that way. Duncan's kinda special."
"Thank you, Caro." Duncan smiled at him, and Blair smiled back, relieved to have Duncan back with him.
Blair and Jim talked around Duncan for several more minutes, while the Immortal drank steadily, until there was a scant inch of amber liquid left in the bottle. Blair answered Jim's questions, keeping one eye on Duncan, who kept slumping to one side and then recovering. When his head fell onto Jim's shoulder, the larger man pushed him gently away, resting Duncan's head on the back of the couch. He was totally engrossed in the history Blair was explaining to him.
Blair stopped in mid-story to ask him, "Could you grab that, please?" The bottle in Duncan's hand was starting to tilt dangerously. Jim took the empty bottle out of Duncan's hand, leaning forward to set it on the table. Duncan slumped over when Jim moved, falling into the empty space Jim had left. He was passed out cold, his hair falling over his exhausted features.
Jim stood up, and Duncan rolled to his side, claiming the extra space. He muttered something softly, but it was in a language Jim didn't recognize. Blair smiled at his lover affectionately, watching him fall immediately back to sleep again.
"Is this what he does every time he fights?" Jim stared down at Mac's passed out form, smiling in spite of himself. He'd never imagined Duncan drinking himself into a stupor. It had been enlightening, to say the least.
Blair giggled, a slight flush spreading over his cheeks. "Well, I've only seen this once before."
"How are you going to get him to bed?" Jim asked quietly, still looking down at the snoring Immortal.
"I'm not. He'll wake up with a stiff neck, but it won't last long." Blair grinned at him, getting up off the couch. He stretched, feeling his back pop. He was exhausted, too. This day seemed like it had been a week long, at least.
"Do you want me to put him in bed for you?" Jim asked, frowning at the painful looking twist of Duncan's neck in the corner of the couch.
"Sure. He's not that heavy." Jim squatted next to the couch, getting his arm under Duncan's shoulders and pulling him to the edge. Duncan turned over on his side, making it easier to slip his other arm behind his knees and lift him off the sofa.
Bouncing him once to get a better grip on his load, Jim started to carry him to the bed.
"Thanks for the lift, Superman," Duncan mumbled sleepily, and behind him, Blair burst into laughter.
Jim shook his head at the drunk man in his arms, smiling as he set him down on his bed. Duncan rolled over onto his stomach, and the light snoring resumed immediately.
"Thank you, Jim, I really appreciate it."
"Don't worry about it."
Blair stood next to the bed, shifting his weight nervously. "You're not mad at me, are you? For not telling you?"
Jim sighed heavily, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know." Jim watched the anxiety in his Guide's beautiful blue eyes, and shook his head. "I guess I'm not. You kept my secret for four years."
Blair smiled, his whole body relaxing in relief. "I'm so glad you can understand, man. I was so afraid this was gonna mess up everything between us. It really is Duncan's thing to tell, though. I couldn't break my word to him..."
"It's okay, Chief. Go to bed, you look exhausted. I'll see you in the morning."
"Okay," Blair agreed quietly, then followed him a few steps away from the bed when he turned to go. "Jim, wait."
He turned back, and Blair wrapped his arms around his waist, hugging him hard. "Thank you."
Jim felt his hand go to smooth Blair's hair, drawn to the silky curls of it's own volition. "It's okay, Chief, everything's going to be alright."
Blair went up on his tip toes to kiss him chastely. "Goodnight, Jim."
"Goodnight, Blair." Jim smiled, letting the soft brush of his Guide's lips spread slowly through his body.
He turned to go, closing the door quietly behind him.
Blair turned off the lights in the loft, and crawled into bed next to Duncan.
He fell asleep almost immediately, his head burrowed into Duncan's strong
Duncan woke up with Blair half on top of him and a very full bladder. Rolling carefully out from under his lover, he padded quietly to the bathroom. Pissing with a hard-on was always a challenge, but it was even more difficult when you were only half awake.
Crawling back into bed, Duncan took his sleepy, half awake lover in his arms. "I woke you up," he whispered, not really sorry but trying to be.
Blair grinned groggily back at him, "Yes, you did. How did you sleep?"
"Like the dead. What time is it?"
Blair yawned, bracing his hand on Duncan's chest to lift himself up enough to see the clock. "Three am."
"Come back here," Duncan murmured, pulling Blair down to kiss him deeply.
Duncan's mouth devoured him, sucking hungrily on his tongue. He covered Blair with his body, holding him down while he moved to the younger man's neck. He gently sucked over each bite mark Jim had left, soothing the purple bruises with his tongue. This morning's argument was long forgotten as Duncan moved down his lover's body, his aching need pushing everything else aside.
Blair was waking up quickly under Duncan's insistent mouth on his skin. He loved it when Duncan was wild like this. His body arched and twisted under his lover's, trying to increase the contact between their bodies under the blankets. Wrapping his arms tightly around his lover's neck, Blair rolled over, pulling Duncan beneath him with a combination of determination and coercion.
"Mm, good morning, Handsome. Is there anything I can do for you?" Blair whispered teasingly, as his hands fluttered down Duncan's hard body to lightly grasp his straining cock.
"Ah, God, yes, touch me."
Blair complied, wrapping his first gently around the hard flesh, and feeling Duncan shudder into his firm grasp. "Oh, Blair...I need you, Caro, so badly..." Duncan groaned, his head rolling back and forth on the pillow. His lover's fist pumped him slowly, releasing long shudders of pleasure that left him panting for more.
"My poor baby, I know, shh, just relax now..." Blair murmured soothingly, sliding quickly down Duncan's heaving chest to nuzzle into his stomach. His lips dropped warm little kisses across his abdomen, traveling quickly to the bobbing erection. Duncan had been hard and needing this for hours. It was the Quickening, and Blair resolved that his lover would have whatever he wanted tonight.
"Is this what you want, handsome?" Blair whispered, his lips brushing over the dripping head of his cock as he spoke.
"Oh yes, oh God yes, your mouth..." Duncan groaned, arching his hips up to get closer to the soft wetness of Blair's lips.
Soft, heavenly moisture engulfed him, and Duncan groaned helplessly, his hands going to Blair's hair. Plunging into the silky curls, he wrapped the long locks around his fingers, pushing back into the devastating heat of his lover's mouth. Blair relaxed completely under his hands, almost throwing himself down onto the hard cock as he collapsed against Duncan's hip. The expressive surrender was Duncan's undoing, and he cried out sharply, thrusting hard into his lover's slack mouth until he came with a shout and a sharp buck of his hips.
Blair choked a little around the unexpected eruption, wrapping his hand around the pulsing base to hold him still when he started to gag. Duncan groaned in relief, his hands stroking his lover's shoulders lightly in apology for the rough treatment. Blair's mouth released him slowly, sucking the last shudder of his orgasm out of him as he released him from his mouth.
"Better?" Blair whispered against his skin, his fingertips stroking lightly up and down his thighs.
"Umm." Duncan responded, unable to form words after his explosive climax. He took a deep breath, trying to regain his equilibrium. "Did I hurt you? I didn't mean to be so rough..."
Blair shook his head, whipping the long curls back and forth across his hip, "Uh-uh. You never hurt me." His fingers continued their light strokes, petting the soft skin of his lover's inner thigh. "But I bet you'll hold still for me this time," Blair whispered seductively, scooting up to take Duncan's still hard cock back into his mouth.
Duncan moaned softly, his hands moving slowly over the smooth skin of Blair's back and shoulders. Blair's mouth caressed him languidly, kissing slowly up and down his length, his tongue fluttering and stroking passionately.
"Oh yes, please more..." Duncan whispered, losing himself to the sweetness of Blair's wet tongue.
Blair smiled against the hot, silky skin, flicking his tongue up and down with little twists and flurries, sucking softly at the base. Nuzzling the delicate skin, his mouth moved slowly over Duncan's balls, listening to the quiet groans of pleasure. Sucking first one, and then the other into his mouth, Blair stretched out between Duncan's legs. Dragging his tongue slowly back up to the tip, Blair took Duncan deep into his mouth. It felt so good, to have the smooth, slick head of Duncan's cock rubbing over the roof of his mouth and back into his throat. Blair moaned softly in pleasure, sucking the hard, thick length greedily, trying to swallow as much of his lover as he possibly could.
Duncan opened his eyes when Blair began to move over him, afraid he would come too soon if he didn't distract himself from the bone melting pleasure. "Oh, Caro... you look so beautiful, sweetheart. Feel so good, so soft..." Duncan moaned, trying to tell his lover what it did to him, to watch him pleasure him this way. Blair groaned softly in response, totally absorbed in the slow, rhythmic thrust of Duncan's cock in his throat. He sucked steadily, almost forgetting to breath in his desire to hold Duncan inside him. "I love you," Duncan told him in a whisper, his hands coming up to rake slowly through Blair's hair.
Blair felt his lover tense up in his mouth, his cock swelling and shuddering deep in his throat. He closed his fist around the base, pumping him slowly, and Duncan came with a long groan, flooding his mouth with hot streams of fluid.
Blair held him in his mouth until his breathing slowed, releasing his softening cock with a final kiss to the crown. "I love you," he whispered, curling up to pillow his cheek on his lover's hipbone. Duncan smiled, dragging his arm over to Blair's shoulder, trying to coax him back up to the head of the bed. Blair wrapped his legs around his thighs, his arms going around Duncan's waist to pull him closer. "Mm, no, don't make me move, this is too wonderful." He whispered, his cheek rubbing contentedly over the hollow of his lover's hip.
"I want to make love to you, I want to make you moan, precious, I want to watch you come for me. Come here," Duncan's voice was a deep, satisfied purr.
Blair shivered in anticipation, crawling up the magnificent body to wrap his arms around Duncan's shoulders, his slightly swollen lips seeking his lover's throat. Large hands moved slowly down his back, caressing him with a firm, gentle touch that took Blair's breath away. Duncan's hands stroked lovingly up and down his body, moving slowly over his ass and down his thighs to the backs of his knees and then back up again, one finger running lightly up between his cheeks.
"Oh yeah, Duncan... Touch me, please... I want you inside me," Blair whispered against his throat, his breath hot over his wet skin.
Duncan rolled from his back onto his side, tucking his lover in against him, his gradually stiffening cock nestling between Blair's cheeks. Reaching over him, he found the lubricant in the night stand, smiling when Blair shivered in anticipation.
Blair groaned quietly when a slick finger penetrated him slowly, pushing inside him and sending sharp shudders of pleasure through his whole body. "Duncan..."
"I know, Caro, I know," Duncan reassured him tenderly, adding a second finger to his gentle thrusts.
Blair's hips pushed back against his fingers, drawing him deeper into the tantalizing heat of his lover's body. Duncan held the beautiful, writhing body close against him, his right arm wrapped around his lover's chest as his left hand moved slowly inside him. Blair was panting now, his breath coming in short gasps, his body moving helplessly against the slow strokes of Duncan's fingers inside him.
"Are you ready, sweetheart? I don't want to hurt you," Duncan whispered tenderly in his ear, drawing Blair back from the haze of intense, liquid pleasure.
"Ah, yeah... Duncan. Now," Blair moaned helplessly, as Duncan's fingers scraped lightly over his prostate, taking his breath away with the powerful sensations. "Oh, God, now!" He cried out, feeling himself getting closer and closer to the point where he wouldn't be able to hold back his climax.
"Easy, hold still for me, love..." Duncan murmured soothingly, and then he was inside him, his big cock opening him up and sinking deep inside. Blair whimpered, flattening himself against Duncan's chest. Strong arms went around him, holding him tightly. Blair panted softly, squirming on the hard cock that had buried itself completely inside his body.
"Are you okay?" Duncan whispered tenderly, one hand moving to close over his cock, petting and soothing him with his hand.
"Yeah... Ooh, that's better." Blair moved tentatively in his arms, pushing back against his cock. "I always forget how enormous you feel..."
"Shh, relax, it's okay. Just let yourself go, I've got you. I love you, I love you so much, Blair." Duncan crooned softly, his lips against the side of Blair's throat. His lover moaned softly in answer, rotating his hips slowly, grinding against him in a way that stroked Duncan slowly inside him.
When he couldn't stand to hold still any longer, Duncan closed his teeth over the back of his lover's neck, drawing slowly, almost all the way out of his exquisite heat before pushing just as slowly back in. They groaned in unison, Blair's body relaxing completely into the drawn out thrust.
Duncan kept the thrusts slow and deep, savoring each exquisite plunge into his lover's body. The pleasure was so great that he didn't want to come, he didn't ever want to stop this perfect dance they were executing under the covers, Blair's hips rising and falling under his hand.
They were moving as one, perfectly in tune with each other. Blair heard Duncan's moans become louder, more desperate, and felt it in his groin, the deep, sweet moans pulled his orgasm from him. He felt it in every muscle, every nerve of his body, as he came over Duncan's hand. He lost control and cried out, sobbing Duncan's name.
The emotion of Blair's orgasm fell over him and Duncan exploded inside his lover, his face buried in Blair's thick curls. He shuddered, the sharp bucking of his hips finally slowing until he collapsed over the smaller man, drawing Blair back against him and into his arms.
Blair's hand found Duncan's, wrapped tightly around his waist, and interlaced their fingers. Slowly, their breathing returned to normal and Duncan's cock softened and slipped from his body. Blair raised the hand he held to cover it with kisses, murmuring quietly, "I'm so glad you came back. I was so scared tonight. I don't ever want to be without you, Duncan. I was so scared..."
"Shh, I know. But you didn't have to be, it wasn't even a challenge worth taking. I wasn't in danger."
"How can you say that?" Blair turned over to look at him, smiling when Duncan's arm went around him again, pulling him against chest.
"Because I don't want you to worry, and because it's true."
Blair shook his head at his lover's confidence, burrowing into his muscular chest. "I love you."
Duncan kissed the top of his head, hugging him tightly before releasing him to pull up the blankets.
"Sleep, Caro. We have a couple more hours before it's tomorrow."
Blair smiled, cuddling Duncan's big body closer. " 'Kay, I love Christmas break, I can sleep in on a Tuesday..."
Duncan smiled, leaning in for one more kiss. "Don't worry, I won't wake you. Sleep well, Caro."
"Love you." Blair mumbled, already half asleep.
Duncan settled Blair more comfortably in his arms,
and fell asleep smiling.
Jim was awake and ready to go when Duncan knocked, just a few minutes later than usual. He opened the door, offering Duncan a quiet "good morning," just in case he was hung over, in spite of what he'd said last night.
Duncan smiled in greeting. "Morning, Jim. Looks really nice out there."
"Yeah, most of the fog has burned off already." Jim locked the door behind him, following Duncan down the hall. "You're really not hung over this morning, Mac?"
Duncan grinned at him over his shoulder, jogging down the three flights of stairs to the street. "Nope, not at all. Sorry, you don't get to gloat."
Jim laughed, shaking his head in amazement. Everything
Blair had told him last night was just starting to sink in. He hoped that
Duncan would stay in this good mood, and that after their run he'd be willing
to talk about it, and answer more questions.
Blair was startled awake by footsteps, and an unfamiliar voice in the loft.
"Heineken? Since when does he drink Heineken?"
Sitting up in bed, eyes wide open, he saw a stranger in a long black coat standing at the refrigerator, holding the door open. Diving for Duncan's sword next to the bed, he got it out of it's scabbard and rolled to his feet, dragging the sheet with him.
"Who the hell are you! What are you doing in my house?" Blair demanded, not moving away from the bed. He held the sword out in front of him, trying to be as intimidating as possible.
"Oh this is too much," Methos turned slowly to take in the naked, mortal boy standing next to Duncan's bed, his feet braced defensively, holding the katana with both hands. "I see things have changed." He drawled, a small smile playing across his lips.
"Get out of my house!" Blair had no idea what to do, he didn't even know if the stranger standing in his kitchen laughing at him was actually Immortal or not.
"Yes, my house. You'd better get the hell out of here, man, or I'll take your head!"
Methos stood looking at what was obviously Duncan's new boyfriend, and threw back his head, and laughed until tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.
"Will you? Well, that's an interesting possibility."
The stranger leered at him, turning back to the refrigerator with a smirk. Blair suddenly realized that he was stark naked and pulled the sheet up around himself, transferring the sword to one hand while he did so.
"I assume you are MacLeod's latest interest?"
Blair stared back at him, so furious he couldn't speak, while the condescending man reached into the refrigerator and pulled out one of his beers, flipping the cap nonchalantly over his shoulder and behind the fridge as he did so.
Just then, the door crashed open, and Duncan and Jim burst in, prepared to deal with the intruder. Duncan stopped short, causing Jim to run into him.
End Part 24