Comes a Scotsman
By Diana Williams, Little Alex, Em, Layna, Tritorella and esjay with suggestions from Citosa.
"Okay, twenty bucks."
"Oh come on, Joe, I don't even get out of bed for twenty. Fifty."
Joe choked. "Fifty? Are you out of your mind?"
Methos shrugged. "I don't care. If you don't want to see it ...."
"And free beer for a week."
"Aw, man, that'd send me broke. Call it forty."
"Fifty, and he's on his way over. Take it or leave it."
"Okay, fifty. Bastard," he added, muttering. "But no touching. You or him."
"Of course not, Joe." Methos contrived to look innocent and abused. "Now play along," he whispered. In a louder voice he added, just as MacLeod came up behind him, "I think that was during the three years I spent as Genghis Khan's sex slave."
Methos smiled back in a suitably enigmatic way.
Shaking his head,
From the corner of his eye, Methos watched Joe pour the drink while he
"You coming?" he called over his shoulder. You will not snicker. You will not snicker. You will not snicker. And he didn't.
A grumbling assent came from behind him and by the time Methos had
sprawled himself into the chair against the wall on the far side of the table,
"You really shouldn't tell him stories like that, Methos. What if he believed you?" The head-shaking again. If he wasn't careful, it'd fall off and wouldn't that be a sight to remember.... "It'd be your own fault if he put it in your chronicles."
Methos sprawled deeper and rested his drink on his stomach, smiling smugly across the table. "It's already there."
That got him. The scotch
Methos wiped and
"Why not me?" Methos pouted. "I'll have you know there are many things at which I am extremely talented."
Methos affected offended innocence. "Well, if you're not interested...."
"Oh, I'm interested." Definite interest on
several levels in the velvety purr of
Hook, meet fish.
Methos' lips curled slightly in satisfaction. He resisted the urge to glance over and see if Joe had observed how quickly the Highlander had taken the bait.
"So, which of my prodigious talents are you interested in...exactly?"
There was a short, rather heated pause. Methos noted
"What was Genghis interested in?"
"Temujin, you mean."
"His name. Genghis Khan is a title. You didn't think his mother called him 'Genghy' for short, did you?"
Another disgusted snort. "Okay,
so what was Temujin interested in?"
"My mouth," Methos answered serenely. "Among other things, of course."
This time the shower of scotch was anticipated. Methos wiped the table
"For a man who had conquered a large part of the known world, he was quite a shy man, even vulnerable. Like most great warriors, deep down all he wanted was to be able to just let go and have someone else take over for a while. Of course, that wasn't possible; so he dealt with it by insisting on absolute control in sexual matters so he didn't lose face. "
"He needed to be top at all times, and he absolutely adored having me suck his cock. Preferably when he was standing up so he could watch me while I was at work. He said he liked the way my lips would swell slightly as he thrust into my mouth but I suspect what he actually liked was that I would make it last and last until his knees buckled."
Methos grinned and licked his lips, watching
He took a swallow from his bottle of beer. Joe had said he couldn't
touch himself -- not that he couldn't move, after all. Under Duncan's intent,
dark gaze, he stretched luxuriously, tilting his chair back against the wall
and letting his thighs fall open. This gave his victim, as Methos well knew, an
unimpeded view of a tight denim-clad crotch and a long, lean body. He knew he
was desirable. Many had told him so, and he had no reason to doubt them.
Methos pretended to be lost in pleasant memories and resisted the temptation
to cheer as
"You enjoyed it?" The words were clipped and
"Oh yes! God, Mac, he wasn't ugly, he treated me well and he was hung like a yak. What more could you want? On the whole it was one of the most pleasant periods of enslavement I've experienced and anyway...." He let his words trail off and a slow smile spread across his face, while one hand, as if of its own volition, stroked down the inside of his thigh. 1...2...3...4....
"What? Bloody Hell, Mac. No need to bellow -- I'm not deaf."
"And anyway, WHAT?"
"Oh! Well, it's just that...." Methos dropped his voice and
bit his lip, delighting in the way
The few seconds silence seemed to stretch interminably, both his and
Then, very quietly. "Liked what, Me-thos?"
"Being tied up, Mac. Temujin had a thing for bondage."
He handed over the bar towel without comment as
"He was fascinated with the paleness of my skin -- his people were so dark compared to me -- and said he liked the contrast between it and the leather he used to bind me."
Methos kept his face impassive and waited for
"He loved it when I struggled." Methos sighed, a faraway look in his eyes. "I'd fight against the bonds, and he'd just stand over me with this ruthless smile...."
"What did he...?"
"Well, as I said, he was insatiable after battle. Three, four, five times, hardly a moment to get my breath in between, just absolutely hammering into me, but other times, he was more...subtle. He'd bind me to the bed with these wide leather straps, and leave me for a while to think about what he was going to do to me.
He'd go off to plot strategies, oversee his troops -- you know, conqueror type things. Sometimes he'd even meet with his lieutenants in the tent with me there, and I'd just be lying there on my back. Completely nude, of course. Exposed, open for everything he might want to do to me."
"A strap around each wrist," here Methos gestured, circling his left wrist with his right hand, "and on my ankles, and just here," he stroked high up on his
inner thigh, "to keep my legs
apart. Absolutely and completely helpless, utterly
exposed." He lowered his eyes and whispered, making
Methos held his breath, fearing that this last revelation might go
beyond the bounds of
"Heavy. And cold when it went in, too. I was very much aware of it all the while, stretching me open for him while I lay there, waiting...."
MacLeod shifted again. Methos didn't need to look at his crotch to know
He managed to school his expression as he watched
"As I said, he liked my mouth best of all. He particularly liked it when I was completely helpless, unable to prevent him from doing what he wanted. Sometimes he'd toy with me, teasing my mouth with his fingers while he told me what he planned to do to me. Other times, he'd be too hot and impatient to wait, and he'd shove his cock in, so far in that I could hardly breathe, fucking me so hard that my lips would be bruised for days."
He could feel
Deliberately, he licked his lips and heard a sharp intake of breath from more than one person. He opened his eyes a fraction, and saw that Joe had come bearing beers for all three of them, but was now staring at Methos, his mouth hanging open.
Two for the price of one.
Methos resisted the urge to grin, and wondered if he could make Joe pay double if he got them both off.
He made a subtle gesture at Joe to sit down, not wanting to break the spell by actually inviting the man to join them, but it seemed the Watcher was no longer content to watch. He sat down even more awkwardly than normal, and although Methos avoided glancing at the region below Joe's ample stomach, he knew what he would see. Well, well, well. Those straight boys can be turned, after all, praise the Lord.
"It wasn't always just him, of course," Methos added absently, and had to poke himself in the thigh to not laugh out loud at the way both of his listener's eyes boggled. "Sorry, did you say something, Joe?"
Joe wiped his face with his handkerchief. "No, not me, man. You were saying...?"
"I was something of a gift for his more favored supplicants. He was gracious like that. The fact that their sexual prowess was on display before someone who could use that information against them if he chose was just an afterthought, I'm sure."
"Him? Oh, nothing, he just watched. He'd invite them in and suggest they try to wear me out. Naturally, they never succeeded, but it was fun letting them try. Oh, I'm sorry, Joe. Mac, give him that towel, will you?" Poke, poke. "The only rule was not to damage me to the point where the Khan couldn't take his pleasure afterwards. Being Immortal, that gave them...a certain leeway, shall we say?"
He took another sip of his beer, and licked the bitter liquid from his lips. "My master sometimes had to suggest that just fucking me wasn't going to work. He'd encourage three or four of them to try and gain satisfaction from me at the same time."
"It was five if the one fucking me was getting it up the arse as well."
Methos shrugged. "Depended on whether I'd already come once or not. If I was fresh, thirty minutes was average. Otherwise, I could go for hours. Top or
Joe blinked. "You could go at it for hours?"
"Easily. Temujin once bet a group of traders that I could fuck all of them without coming once myself. He was particularly pleased with me when I won that bet for him."
Methos nearly grinned at the realization that
Joe looked at him skeptically. "Right. You expect us to believe that you fucked six guys into the ground without coming once?" Methos just raised his eyebrows at Joe in reply and took another swallow of beer. "Mac, you buying this?"
Joe rolled his eyes. "It ain't his
tongue we're talking about here, Mac -- we already
know how good he is with that mouth."
"Don't want to,"
Methos couldn't help grinning at that.
He slid down further in his seat and, cocking his head sideways a
little, arched an eyebrow at Joe. His gaze caressing, Methos picked up his
bottle of beer again and licked a circle around the opening before closing his
lips around it. Tipping the bottle up, he swallowed the next gulp of the beer,
knowing how nicely the lines of his neck were stretching in the process. He lowered
the bottle and slowly sucked the bottle tip further into his mouth, daring Joe
to protest. When Joe didn't -- couldn't -- say anything and merely licked his
lips, Methos knew he could focus back on
He placed the bottle back onto the table and looked back at Duncan, who
was, as expected, staring with opened mouth. "Like this thing I do
with my tongue?" Methos said, smiling broadly. Inwardly, however, he
Picking at a loose thread of his sweater, Methos focused his gaze on some random point on the wall. "Temujin was so good that even I learned a few tricks under him."
"I still remember that time when I was sitting on top of one of
the men with my hands and arms bound behind my back, and another would be
fucking me from behind. I'd be stretched so taut and full and Temujin would be fucking my mouth...." Oh, yes,
He looked into
Another whimper, Joe this time. Methos
grinned to himself, not dropping his hold on
He had his eye on the main prize.
Methos leant forward, resting his elbows on the table, totally
"I can smell how much you want me," Methos said.
"He'd tell me that as I sucked him," Methos purred. "Tell me he could smell how much I needed him to fuck me, how every part of my body was his alone to do with what he would. That no one else could give me what he could."
"To make me come," Methos whispered. "No one else could
make me come like he could -- no one else
was allowed without his permission. No matter how much I begged. 'Please,
please,' I'd beg him," he said as he rubbed the cool beer bottle over his
face and condensation ran in a little stream down his neck to his chest,
"'please, let me come.'" He smoothed his hand over the path the fluid
had taken, arching his throat and letting his head fall back a little so he
could look at
Methos leaned in closer, almost but not quite close enough to kiss.
Tilted his head as if for a kiss and said in a breathless whisper,
There was a soft, "Goddamn," from his left, but he didn't
look at Joe, just wanting to drink in the beauty of
Oh, yes, my pet, he thought with affection. So sweet, and so easy.
He stood, stretched legs that were a little stiff, and eased jeans that
were a little tight. He tossed the towel over
Joe was clutching at the table with rigid, white knuckled fingers. "I'll be by to collect later," Methos said to him, unable to keep a little sultry promise out of his voice. Joe nodded jerkily.
Methos grinned to himself as he sauntered out. What it was to be happy in one's work, he thought.
Tritorella has written a delightfully smutty Methos/Joe sequel, read it here...