chelle

Highlander

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Eyes Snippet 2

chelle

Title: Eyes Snippet 2

Author: chelle

Author's email: chelle@chelle.slashcity.org

Author's URL: http://chelle.slashcity.org/

Fandom: Highlander

Category: Slash

Pairing: Duncan/Methos

Archive: Ask first

Rating: NC-17

Methos drew slowly back from their kissing, replacing the deep kisses with lighter ones. Reluctantly, Duncan let him.

"So," Methos said between kisses, "what is it going to be tonight?"

"What's what?" Duncan answered, also between kisses.

"What part of me are you going to obsess over tonight?" Methos pulled farther back this time, almost out of Duncan's arms.

Duncan leaned back, deliberately studying the man in front of him. Methos was in his usual combination of jeans and a sweater. Duncan had been doing his best to shove the sweater out of the way, but when Methos had pulled away it had fallen back into place. Methos' hair was tousled where Duncan had been running his hands through it, and he looked, well, like a man who had been engaged in some serious kissing. It was a look that suited him.

What part was he going to obsess over? Duncan gave the matter some thought, letting his eyes linger on Methos' neck, his shoulders, the chest he knew was well-muscled beneath it's wool covering. One of Methos' sleeves was pushed up and Duncan studied his wrist and the hand it led to. Methos' fingers were long and skilled. Desire shot through him as he remembered what it had felt like to have those fingers inside him. Duncan lifted the exposed arm and rested Methos' wrist in one hand while trailing his fingers up the inside of Methos' arm.

He glanced at Methos' face. The other man was simply watching him. He raised the wrist in his hand to his lips, kissing it gently. He kissed his way over the rise of flesh at the bottom of Methos' hand to his palm. He lapped playfully at the center of Methos' hand as he kissed it.

"My palm, is it?" Methos asked.

Duncan held his lover's gaze as he nipped at Methos' hand. He grinned. "That's a little too focused, even for me. It's your entire hand."

"Ahh, and the reason you chose my hand?"

"Hands."

"The reason you chose my hands?"

"I can't get enough of the way you touch me." The honesty of the response surprised him. He kept revealing more than he intended.

"Then I'll have to touch you." Methos' voice was devoid of teasing, and that absence was enough to make Duncan swallow nervously. Methos stood. "Come to bed with me."

Duncan looked up at the man in front of him. Methos, the myth; Methos, the world's oldest living man; Methos, his lover. His lover. It was the last which truly amazed him. Duncan rose, and Methos smiled softly at him before walking toward the bed. Duncan followed, slowly enough to enjoy the view.

What a view it was. Duncan was half-convinced that jeans had been invented solely to showcase Methos' ass. The denim was worn in all of the right places, drawing the eye to the center of those perfectly shaped buttocks, which flexed charmingly as Methos moved. Methos stopped beside the bed, and turned slowly. Duncan's eyes stayed at the same level, and when Methos finished turning he found himself staring at the erection distorting the fit of Methos' jeans.

The urge to drop to his knees and free Methos' cock and worship it with his hands and lips and tongue was almost too powerful to resist.

"Duncan." Methos took a step toward him, and Duncan looked up.

"Yeah?"

"You need to undress, if I'm going to touch you."

Methos was standing so close that Duncan could feel his warmth, but he made no move to bring his body into contact with Duncan's. "It's possible to touch through clothes."

"Yes, but I want to touch your skin."

The slight emphasis Methos put on the word 'your' intensified Duncan's arousal, and he opened the top two buttons on his shirt. Methos was watching him, and his attentiveness was unnerving. It was also wildly exciting. Impatient, Duncan didn't bother to finish with the buttons; he tugged the shirt over his head.

Methos smiled, but took a step back. He traced Duncan with his eyes from head to toe and back again. "You're still overdressed."

Duncan opened his belt and pants, and pushed them to the floor. He stepped out of them. Methos' eyes were on his groin, and it was a moment before he raised them to Duncan's face. Duncan didn't wait for Methos' next command. He shoved his briefs off, and stood, fully nude, before his lover.

"Much better," Methos said, smiling softly. "I don't need to be naked to touch you, but I think it'll be more enjoyable for us both if I am. What do you think?"

"Get undressed, Methos."

"It really isn't necessary."

Duncan stepped close to him, and said softly, directly into Methos' ear. "I want to look at you. Don't deny me, please." Even without touching him, Duncan could feel Methos respond to his words. Methos turned his head, and their eyes met, but Methos turned slightly away, giving Duncan a side view when he pulled off his sweater. Methos turned the movement into a sensual full-body stretch, one that made Duncan's mouth go dry.

Duncan continued to watch as Methos opened his jeans, and removed them. Methos' back curved as he bent forward; Duncan was standing beside him, close enough to touch, and he didn't bother to resist the urge. Duncan half-expected Methos to protest that he was supposed to be the one doing the touching, not Duncan, but he didn't. Methos' skin felt good, and Duncan stroked his back from the base of his spine to a couple of inches below his neck. On the downward stroke he let his hand slide lower, over one of Methos' buttocks. Methos pushed back against his hand, and Duncan squeezed playfully.

Methos looked at Duncan over his shoulder and grinned. "I thought it was my hands tonight."

"It is, but I didn't get to be four-hundred-years old by not knowing a good opportunity when I saw one."

"So why are you just fondling my ass, when you could be kissing me and fondling my ass?"

Rubbing his hand back and forth over Methos' buttock, Duncan said, "I thought perhaps you'd had enough kissing."

"Enough? Of kissing you? Not possible."

"Really?" Duncan asked, pleased and feeling slightly foolish because of it. He ran his fingers lightly over the space between Methos' buttocks.

Methos turned so that they were face-to-face and placed his hands on Duncan's chest. "I thought I was the one who was supposed to be doing the touching?"

"You are."

"Kiss me first."

Apparently, Methos really did want more of his kisses. Duncan closed the space between their mouths in a heartbeat. He wasn't expecting what happened next. They'd done playful, and they'd done passionate; they'd even done tender, but they hadn't done frantic. He wasn't sure where it came from, the shattering lust that had them pulling on one another, desperate to get closer. He didn't think it was possible to get a tongue any farther into another person's mouth than Methos' was in his, but when Methos tried Duncan simply responded in kind. After a few minutes, Methos pulled away.

"Jesus," Methos muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Sprain something?" Duncan asked, grinning.

Methos reached around him to push on his back. "Bed."

"Are you sure you don't want some more kissing first?"

Methos raised a hand and held it in front of Duncan's face. "Look at this hand, Duncan. Notice how strong it is, how long and agile the fingers are." He rested his hand on Duncan's cheek. "Feel its warmth, my warmth. Now, imagine this hand on you." His voice dropped, his tone promising all kinds of sensual delights. "Touching, stroking, caressing…"

Duncan swallowed. "Where do you want me?"

Methos smiled. "I thought you'd see it my way." He brushed his lips to Duncan's before settling onto the bed with his back against the headboard and his legs apart. He patted the mattress in front of him.

Duncan sat between Methos' legs, with his back to his lover. Methos took hold of his shoulders and pulled him back until he was resting on Methos' chest. "Unfortunately," Methos said quietly, "I won't be able to touch all of you this way." He rested his chin on Duncan's shoulder. "But I really like the view."

Duncan glanced down. His chest, his cock, his legs, it all looked pretty ordinary to him. But he knew others didn't see him that way, and there was a certain confidence that came with being attractive. Methos would probably call it arrogance. Still, he liked the idea of Methos wanting to look at him. Like many of the thoughts and feelings he had about Methos, he didn't examine it too closely.

Methos' hands curled around his biceps and slid slowly downward. Methos' fingertips teased the insides of his elbows before skimming lower.

He'd never thought of the insides of his arms as an erogenous zone, but they became one when Methos touched him. Nerves he hadn't known could feel pleasure came alive under Methos' feather-light stroking.

Methos abandoned his inner arms, sliding his hands fingers first along the outside of Duncan's arms to his hands. Methos placed Duncan's hands palm up on Methos' thighs, then he moved his index finger across each palm. After a moment the back and forth motion changed to lazy, sensual circles.

The muscles in his groin tightened, making Duncan wonder how something so simple could add so much to his arousal.

Methos moved his hands to Duncan's abdomen, spreading them flat against Duncan's skin. Duncan's muscles tightened at the contact.

Methos chuckled. "No need to suck in your stomach, Mac."

"I wasn't."

Methos didn't answer; he began to move his hands upward. "You have a lovely chest," he said softly. "All hard muscle and soft hair." The fingers of Methos' right hand brushed a nipple. "Well, maybe not just muscle and hair."

"Hmmm" was Duncan's only answer.

"Is that your way of asking for more?" Methos' voice was low and teasing.

"Yes."

Methos circled both of his nipples with a tantalizingly light touch. Duncan started to arch into it, but Methos wrapped an arm around him, pulling him tight against Methos' chest. Methos' erection was pressing into the small of his back. With his free hand Methos continued to toy with Duncan's nipples; first one and then the other was circled with a light touch, rubbed with a firmer one, and then abandoned.

Methos brushed his lips against the side of Duncan's neck and when he spoke his breath was warm on Duncan's skin. "That's the downside of this position. I can't take them in my mouth."

Duncan bit back a groan.

"You like that, don't you?" Methos continued. "You like it when I take your nipple into my mouth and suck. I like it too, Duncan. I like the way your flesh feels on my tongue."

This time the groan escaped.

"Give me your hand," Methos whispered.

Duncan lifted his right hand and Methos captured it with his own, guiding Duncan's fingers into his mouth. He sucked; he ran his tongue over and around Duncan's fingers, reminding Duncan, vividly, of what it felt like to have Methos' mouth on other parts of his body.

Methos pulled Duncan's fingers from his mouth and guided them to Duncan's nipple. Slowly, he used Duncan's fingers to caress Duncan.

Duncan felt exposed, and incredibly wanton.

Methos moved both their hands to the other nipple, pushing Duncan's fingers back and forth over the hard flesh.

Duncan felt a twinge of disappointment when Methos moved Duncan's hand, spreading it flat against Duncan's chest.

"Feel yourself, Duncan. Feel how good it is to touch you," Methos said quietly, moving Duncan's hand across his own torso.

"Methos."

"I've got you. I won't let go," Methos whispered, and then he began to nibble softly on Duncan's earlobe.

Duncan closed his eyes, letting the sensations overwhelm him. Methos' mouth teasing his ear and neck; Methos' hand covering his, pressing it into Duncan's own chest; Methos' warmth all along his back and the places where his legs rested against Methos'; and Methos' cock pressing into the small of his back. Duncan contracted the muscles in this abdomen, flattening his back and increasing the pressure on Methos' cock.

"Not yet, Duncan." Methos removed his hand from Duncan's and slid it down Duncan's body, over his abdomen.

Duncan's breath caught in anticipation.

When Methos' hand reached the skin above Duncan's groin, he paused, toying with the narrow line of hair that led to Duncan's cock.

"Methos," Duncan protested.

"Tell me what you want." Methos' voice was insistent.

"Your hand on me."

"My hands are on you."

"On my cock. I want your hand on my cock."

"Why didn't you say so in the first place?"

Impatient with Methos' teasing, Duncan grabbed Methos' hand and wrapped it around his cock. "There. Now stroke."

"How?"

How? Methos couldn't be serious. "Up and down," Duncan grated.

"I know that. I meant fast," Methos stroked his hand quickly up Duncan's cock and back down again, "or slow." He stroked again, slowly. "Light or firm? The whole length or just the area under the head?"

Duncan closed his eyes. Only Methos could arouse him and exasperate him at the same time. "Slow, Methos. Long and slow." Methos complied, and his caress intensified the tightness in Duncan's groin.

"How's this?" Methos whispered.

"Perfect."

"You feel good in my hand, Duncan. So good. I could touch you forever."

Something about those words relaxed Duncan. Maybe it was the comfort of knowing he wasn't the only one revealing things. He went almost boneless against Methos, reveling in the feeling of Methos holding him, touching him, supporting him. It felt good to simply lie there, in the circle of Methos' arms, and let himself be pleasured.

Methos wasn't touching him anywhere else, just his cock, which he caressed with slow, possessive strokes.

Duncan watched as Methos touched him, watched Methos' hand moving up and down his cock. Methos' hands and legs were the only parts of his lover that he could see. Oddly, this felt more intimate than anything else they'd done, this simple caress, silently bestowed.

The intensity of the pleasure grew slowly, almost imperceptibly. Methos' strokes grew shorter as well, focusing on the area near the head, going up over the ridge and down again with increasing speed and strength, providing the touch Duncan hadn't known he needed until Methos gave it. Duncan bit his lower lip to keep from crying out, just as he did when he was alone. He was close now, so close, and Methos' hand slowed once again, prolonging the pleasure, taking it to the point where his orgasm truly was a release.

He shuddered as he came, and the arm around his torso clutched him more tightly. Methos. His lover's name echoed unspoken in his mind.

Duncan's entire body went limp, and Methos released his cock, wrapping both arms around him.

"Thank you," Duncan said softly when the ability to speak returned.

"You're welcome," Methos answered against his ear, the warmth of his breath a light caress.

Duncan was torn between never wanting to move, and the desire to give back some of the pleasure he had just received. "What would you like, Methos?" he asked.

"I'm quite content."

"Yeah, you feel content."

Duncan could feel Methos' smile against his neck. "Blue balls is a myth, you know," Methos said. "Erections subside painlessly and harmlessly all the time."

"I want to give you pleasure."

"You are."

"I want to give you a different sort of pleasure."

"Oh really?"

Methos was being deliberately obtuse, Duncan knew. For some reason he considered exasperating Duncan to be a form of play. Duncan was willing to play along. Intense orgasms always left him feeling agreeable. "Different from cuddling."

"Ah."

"You sound disappointed. Were you hoping for something exotic?"

"Not at all. Like I said, I'm perfectly content."

"It is nice," Duncan agreed.

"So be quiet and enjoy it."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"There's a cock pressing into my back." Duncan felt Methos start to laugh. "And all I can think about is how much I want it and the man it belongs to."

"Nice to know I'm not thoroughly objectified," Methos teased.

"Not thoroughly," Duncan said, wrapping his own arms over Methos'. "As fond as I am of your various parts, it's the man they're attached to that I want."

"How do you want me?"

"Lots of ways. But right now—" Duncan twisted onto his hip so he could see Methos' face. "Right now, I want you to fuck me."

"Kiss me first."

Duncan shook his head slightly and then stretched upward, bringing their lips together. At first, Duncan kept the kiss slow and easy, a simple exchange of affection and pleasure. Then he deepened it, letting his renewed desire seep into the kiss, letting Methos feel the intensity of his longing.

"Duncan," Methos pleaded as they separated.

Duncan edged lower on the bed and took Methos' cock into his mouth. He slid his mouth up and down, not sucking, simply covering Methos' cock with his saliva. Satisfied with his preparations, he lifted his head.

Methos was gazing down at him, longing written across his face.

"Still want to cuddle?" Duncan asked.

Methos shook his head.

Duncan captured Methos' hand and brought it to his lips, sucking two fingers into his mouth. His eyes on Methos' face, Duncan shifted onto his knees, straddling Methos' hips. He brought Methos' moistened fingers down between his legs, to his entrance, and pushed them inside. "Touch me, Methos. Please."

Methos answered him by easing his fingers all of the way into Duncan. Duncan's breath came in shallow gasps as Methos' fingers did sinful things to him, teasing his prostate with light brushes and firm pushes. Duncan curled forward so he could see the place where Methos was penetrating him.

"Duncan."

Duncan looked up, meeting Methos' eyes.

"Please."

That one syllable stripped him bare, taking away the few defenses he had left and leaving him completely exposed to the man beneath him. Wrapping his hand around Methos' wrist, Duncan pulled Methos' fingers from his body. He pressed a quick kiss to Methos' palm and then took hold of Methos' cock, positioning himself over it. Methos was still leaning against the headboard and his hips weren't quite low enough. "Slide down," Duncan ordered.

Methos wiggled a bit lower on the bed, enough so that Duncan could get the angle right. Duncan began to lower himself. Methos grasped his hips, but he let Duncan control the movement.

It had been a long time since he'd taken anyone inside him, and Methos cock stretched him almost painfully. But it felt good to be opened, to feel someone else inside him, to feel Methos inside him.

He watched his lover's face. Methos' lips were slightly parted, and he was breathing rapidly. "Talk to me, Methos. Tell me what you feel." It was the second time he'd made such a request of Methos; he needed words, needed the connection they could create.

"You, Duncan, taking me inside, warming me, caressing me with your whole being."

Duncan reached bottom, and he held still, simply holding Methos within him. Methos' hand curled around the back of his neck and pulled him forward for a kiss. The kiss was tender, almost too tender, and Duncan had to fight the urge to pull away.

The kiss ended and Duncan sat back. Methos' eyes were closed. Duncan lifted his hips slightly, and Methos' eyes flew open. Duncan held his lover's gaze as he slid back down. He lifted himself further with the next stroke, caressing more of Methos' cock. He moved slowly, drawing it out. He felt completely open to Methos, almost unbearably close to him, and he didn't want it to end.

Methos' hands tightened on his hips, urging him to move faster. Duncan resisted. He liked the gentle of eroticism of their fucking, and he didn't want to lose the feeling.

"Please," Methos whispered.

Duncan couldn't refuse. He let the hands on his hips set the pace, fucking Methos with increasing speed and urgency.

"Come, Duncan. I want you to come."

Duncan wrapped one hand around his cock and began to stroke. His pleasure escalated, but it was more from the steady litany pouring from Methos' mouth then it was from the hand on his cock. He wasn't really comprehending the words, but the sound was filling him almost as much as Methos' cock.

"Duncan."

He understood those two syllables, and he understood the motion of the man beneath him. Methos was thrusting upward with increasing urgency. They moved together, reaching the point where stopping became impossible and holding back unthinkable.

Methos thrust into him, pulling Duncan onto him at the same moment, and went completely still, except for the cock Duncan felt pulsing inside him. The sensation was enough to send him over the edge.

Duncan collapsed against Methos' chest, small tremors still passing through him. Methos wrapped his arms tightly around him. Gradually, awareness of things beyond the body against his returned, and with it the realization that while he might be perfectly comfortable, Methos, probably, was not. Reluctantly, he sat back, pushing the semi-hard cock still partly inside him further inward. Gently, he eased off of it and lay on his side next to Methos.

Methos slid from his position against the wall flat onto the bed. Turning his head, he smiled at Duncan. Duncan's breath caught at the sight. He'd never seen Methos smile like that before, happy and carefree. He reached out and ran his fingers lightly over Methos' cheek.

"Something wrong?" Methos asked quietly.

"No. Something's right."

"You look so serious."

Duncan smiled. "Making love is a serious business."

"It's a business for you?" Methos started to sit up. "I didn't realize. I'll get my wallet."

Duncan pushed him back to the bed. "You're not going anywhere."

"I'm not?"

"You're not. You're going to hold me, until I can't stand the stickiness any longer, and then you're going to join me in the shower. Then, depending on how the shower goes, you're either going to help me change the sheets or help me make them even messier."

"I am?"

"You are."

"And why should I agree to this?"

"Because you like to touch me."

"Okay, but you'll have to kiss me first."

Duncan raised himself onto one arm and leaned down to kiss Methos, then he settled his head onto the other man's shoulder. Methos' arms encircled him. He really hadn't thought much about Methos' arms before, but they were wonderfully strong, and their length made them perfect for cuddling, and…