Show and Tell
The usual disclaimers apply. I don't own the
boys, which may be a good thing 'cause if I did, I sure wouldn't
be using my time writing stories. This PWP was originally part of
a longer story. The story was incorporated into my THE WILD HUNT
series and may not be written for some time, if at all. The basis
of the story is that, shortly after REVELATION 6.8, Methos is called
away by a woman claiming to be his sister to help find and return
a valuable horse. This scene takes place toward the end. MacLeod
has come to the estate and Methos has retreated to the barn to avoid
him.
Methos gently drew the brush through Clarise's thick mane,
listening to her contented whuffles as she rubbed him back with
her nose. Her eyes were half-closed though every now and then
she would look over to flirt with the stallion in the next
stall. Galahad looked back warily and sidled away. Methos
chuckled. "Face it, old girl. Gonna be a spinster."
Clarise curled her lip and snorted, glaring at him, her
expression just making the Immortal laugh harder.
"Oh, Clarise." He rested his forehead against hers.
"Out of all the stallions you could possibly pick, you had
to pick the one who doesn't have the slightest idea what to do
with a mare!"
"He does seem a bit shy."
He had felt the Immortal presence for a few minutes now but
he had figured it was just one of the Immortal children Eve had
taken in over the millennia. The last thing he'd expected was to
hear MacLeod's amused voice behind him and he spun to gape at
the man.
"What are you doing here?" He blurted out. The last
time he'd spoken to Joe, it was to find that MacLeod was keeping
company with Cassandra still and Cassandra was still insisting
that Methos hadn't change. Methos felt a twinge of worry. . .he
had left his sword in the house but then he looked down the
corridor and smiled slightly. He didn't have a sword but he did
have several tons of horseflesh more then willing to defend him
if need be.
Clarise nuzzled him in concern and he patted her nose
absently. "Is Cassandra with you?"
Methos was astonished to see MacLeod's lips quirk in
amusement. "She's talking with Eve." He reached over
to rub Galahad's forehead.
"Oh, my." Methos chuckled. "I hope someone's
taking notes."
"Joe's there too." MacLeod eyed Methos thoughtfully
for so long that the Old Man began to squirm. MacLeod seemed
fascinated by his every twitch.
"Mac. What's wrong with you?" Methos finally
blurted.
MacLeod's eyes snapped up to meet his then he suddenly
stepped close, so close that Methos was forced to step back,
stumbling into the empty stall next to Galahad's. "To be
perfectly honest," Mac almost purred. "I was wondering
about a little game of show and tell."
"Show and. . ?" Suspicion nagged at Methos and he
wasn't sure he liked where it was going.
"Poor Galahad doesn't seem to know what to do. Maybe he
needs a demonstration."
"A demonstration?" Methos said, eyeing the man in
front of him. "All right, who are you and what have you
done with MacLeod?"
Mac grinned. "Maybe I'm finally seeing things clearly.
How long have you been in love with me?"
"In love?" Methos' voice squeaked, wondering what
Eve had said to make MacLeod ask that. He paused to clear his
throat, finally managing to speak more in his normal tone.
"What makes you think that?"
Mac smirked then leaned closed, literally nose-to-nose.
"You're not?" He almost purred the words.
Methos opened his mouth to say just that but the words
wouldn't come and Mac's grin widened. "Now, about that
demonstration. . ."
Methos shivered as Mac leaned close to kiss him lightly. His
resistance, such as it was, slipped away at that gentle touch.
"Undress." The Highlander said huskily, breath
tickling Methos' lips.
Methos fumbled to obey, stripping off his clothes and letting
them fall to the ground. He didn't question his sudden good
fortune, he just looked over Mac to make sure he wasn't drunk or
under the control of anyone. Not the former that he could see
and as for the latter. . .well, many things were possible within
this estate but mind control was not one of them, of that he was
certain.
MacLeod undressed even quicker and Methos paused, eyes
wandering over the Highlander's broad shoulders and chest and
then downward, licking his lips in anticipation. Dimly he heard
Mac laugh and strong callused hands rested on his shoulders,
pushing him to his knees. Eagerly, Methos leaned forward, tongue
extended to lightly lick Mac's erection. Mac chuckled again and
pushed Methos down hard, onto his hands and knees and was
kneeling behind him in a smooth motion, leaning forward to rest
his weight on the other's back.
"Demonstration, remember? One of us," and he drew
his tongue wetly along Methos' shoulder. "has to be the
mare."
Methos groaned, extending his neck to show his throat.
MacLeod accepted his submission, licking the side of his neck
then abruptly lowering his head and sinking his teeth into the
pale shoulder. Methos yelped at the sudden pain and bucked
against Mac.
Keeping his teeth locked firmly in Methos' shoulder, Mac
gripped the Old Man's hips hard enough to bruise and worked his
legs further apart. He had taken a brief moment to slick his
cock with saliva but knew that it was still going to be a rough
entry. At the moment, though, he didn't particularly care and he
suspected Methos cared even less.
He found Methos' opening by instinct, not wanting to release
him long enough use his hands to guide himself and thrust almost
savagely into the man. Methos let out a howl of pain and would
have jumped away if it hadn't been for Mac's strong grip on his
hips and his teeth still in his neck. Mac held him firmly in
place, the head of his cock nestled securely in Methos' heat,
waiting for him to adjust to its presence.
Methos panted, the sharp pain fading as his body accepted the
thickness. Mac was bigger then he thought. And not as well
lubricated as he'd like. Not that he minded. In fact. . .with a
grunt, Methos pushed back insistently, feeling Mac thrust to
meet him.
Mac relaxed onto Methos' back, letting him take most of his
weight. His arms slid around the slender chest, holding the Old
Man close, and positioned his knees to get a better purchase on
the straw beneath them. With short, quick thrusts, he worked his
way deeper into the man beneath him, feeling Methos moving back
to meet him.
Methos moaned as more and more of him opened to this man. It
had a very long time since he'd been a willing partner to a man;
he'd almost forgotten what it felt like. Mac loosened his hold
on Methos' shoulder and licked his way to the slender neck.
Methos whimpered as that clever tongue sought out the tautness
of his throat and followed the lines of tension to his cheek.
With a swift movement, Methos turned his head, to capture
Mac's mouth with his own, drawing him into a deep kiss. Only
then did he realized that Mac had stop moving, that he could
feel curly pubic hair against his ass and knew that Mac had
entered him fully.
"Mine." Mac murmured into the kiss. He pulled back
slightly, his eyes dancing with a mixture of lust and laughter.
"My mare."
Methos felt a thrill run through him and he smiled back.
"Yours." He agreed thickly. He rolled his head to rest
his cheek against Mac's, adding in a whisper. "Always was
yours. You just had to claim me."
MacLeod's arms tightened, one hand slipping downward to wrap
firmly around Methos' dripping cock. Slowly, he drew himself
out, slamming back into that tight heat. Methos let out a sound
of pleasure that sounded suspiciously like a whinny and pushed
back to met him. Together they found their rhythm, panting and
crying out in wild pleasure.
Methos, celibate since Alexa died and for some time before
that, reached his peak first. Thrusting hard into Mac's tight
grip, he stiffened, his body shuddering as he came. Mac grunted
as muscles tightened and rippled around him and he joined his
new lover in ecstasy, their cries of pleasure echoing each
other. Finally spent, they fell together, Mac twisting his body
enough so that they landed on their sides, still joined, Mac's
arms wrapped securely around Methos' middle.
Methos was the first to move, laughing softly to himself. Mac
opened his eyes and blinked at Methos then followed his eyes to
see Galahad's head draped over the wall, snorting and sniffing
at them curiously.
"You realize, of course, that if Galahad decides he like
boys better then girls, Eve will kill us both."
"Nah. I'll just hurt you severely." Eve stood in
the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb with a casualness
reminiscent of Methos himself. Cassandra stood next to her,
white-faced with shock.
Methos blinked at them both in happy contentment. "It
was worth it." He wiggled back against Mac, feeling the
thick hardness still nestled within him. "What are you
doing here anyway?"
"We could hear you screaming clear up to the house. She
figured Mac was torturing you. Having traveled with you, I
figured he was screwing you senseless. You could have gone to
your bedroom, y'know. It is soundproof."
"We were just showing Galahad how it was done."
"Uh-huh. Is it my imagination or is he eyeing Excalibur?
Clarise is going to kill you."
"Let her. It was still worth it."
"Duncan!" Cassandra finally spoke up in a strangled
voice. "What are you doing?"
Mac tossed his hair out of the way and blinked at her then
looked at the man still nestled in his arms. He gave an
experimental thrust of his hips and Methos let out a mewling
noise, arching his head back and stretching with pleasure.
"Getting ready for a second go, I should think."
"Duncan. . gawk!" Cassandra was jerked off balance
as Eve grabbed a thick handful of her hair and yanked her
off-balance.
"Come along, witch. The boys are busy and I'm sure Joe
is getting tired of studying the paving stones. Just keep it
down, you two." She dragged Cassandra from the barn.
Not that the two men, already deep in their lovemaking,
noticed.
The End?
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