by Erika
Mac tried to pay attention to the information the Director was presenting to
them, but he found himself too preoccupied with one thought: Victor in
jeans. Worse, Victor in leather pants. Mac glanced at his partner sitting
beside him. Damn, he should have thought of that two weeks ago when he broke
into Vic's hotel room, in Washington, D.C. The day after he lost Victor
outside the gallery, he gone to his hotel room, broken in and ... tried to
ignore the evidence on the bed. The rumpled, soiled sheets. Three condoms
in the wastebasket. The smell of sex that still hung in the air. Scattered,
wet towels everywhere. And lube. Lube in the bathroom. Three quarters of it
already used.
Victor had brought someone back to his hotel room. A man. The one from the
gallery, he was certain of it.
Mac went into autopilot. He searched the room and found the jeans. He was
an artist. A professional. He stole jewels not jeans. He took the jeans
with him. The jeans were now in a safety deposit box. Victor would never
wear them again. Victor would never get laid again, if he had any say in
it. Not ever.
With the jeans now decommissioned, Victor would be safe. Virtue intact.
Problem solved. Mac would now be able to sleep in peace and stop dreaming of
Victor in jeans. Perfect, except for one thing. The next day, Victor had
shown up in leather pants. Black leather. Brown leather. Leather. Leather.
Leather.
Mac sighed deeply. The leather pants clung to Victor like a second skin and
for the next two days Mac had found himself growling at anyone who stopped
and admired the view. Admired the way Victor wore those pants. Men. Women.
Didn't matter what their age, gender or inclination they all gave Victor an
appreciative glance.
At the airport while Victor, Liann and Jackie waited to board their plane
Mac continued with his job taking pictures of the Canadian. Then he saw
Victor's cell phone go off, his partner answered it and smiled. Soon
afterward, the ex-cop headed to the washroom. Five minutes later the gallery
guy showed up. From his hiding spot Mac continued to take pictures. What was
he doing here?
Guy. Washroom. Vic. Ten minutes. Twenty. Thirty minutes later a rumpled
Victor comes out. Lush lips, silk shirt partly open. Leather pants. Click.
Picture taken.
The gallery guy's hand caressing Victor's cheek. Kiss. Click. Click. Tonsil
hockey. Someone screams. Falls to the ground. Floor is hard. Pretty sure
the scream was his, good thing a child starts crying nearby. Everyone looks
at the kid, while he crawls back to his hiding spot. Dusts pants off. Looks
around. Gallery guy is gone.
Vic has boarded his plane.
Victor safe in Toronto. Toronto the good. Two weeks pass and things go back
to normal.
Mac glanced at his partner. Eyelashes. A sin for a guy to have such
eyelashes. Long, curvy ...
"Ramsey!" The riding crop hits the desk.
Shit!
"As I was saying, the three of you will head to Seacouver. Liann, you will
watch over Duncan MacLeod. Ramsey, your assignment is Amanda Montrose and
Victor you get the student. Any questions?"
"But they're not even involved in the conference. Instead, shouldn't we be
watching ..." Victor argued.
"No. Individually these three have been known to attract the criminal
element. From robberies, bombings and murder. Together ... best to take
precautions. We have no evidence that they were involved in those matters
I've mentioned but somehow they always seem to be found near a crime scene.
Read the reports Nathan has provided. Study them. Befriend these people and
make sure they stay far away from the conference. Class dismissed." All
three got up to leave. "Oh, Ramsey, about these photographs ..."
Methos yawned and rubbed his eyes. It was pretty late but he had to finish
this paper. His stomach growled. Food. That did it. He picked up his
backpack, put away his papers and made his way to Joe's Bar. He hadn't seen
MacLeod for the past week, what with the paper due and ... it wasn't like
the Highlander would have missed him. After all, Amanda was in town. Maybe
he should go somewhere else. Looking at those two love birds would make him
... he paused. Someone was following him. Mortal.
Gun. Checked. Sword. Checked. Adam persona. Checked.
Methos continued walking, trying to put as much distance between himself and
the one who was following him. First, he needed to find a place to hide.
He crossed the street and followed a group of students, making it seem like
he was part of the crowd. They entered a bar. He could still feel the
slight hint of someone observing him. He ordered a pop and sat down ready
to wait it out.
For the past week Victor had been trailing after Adam Pierson. All in all he
had the easiest assignment, what with his subject mostly travelling between
the library and his apartment. He read the reports Nathan had provided and
looking at Pierson, Victor could not understand how such a harmless looking
student could be a magnet for trouble.
He tugged at his pants. He missed his jeans, they were a snug fit but far
more comfortable than these leather pants. The cleaning lady at the Hilton
had denied taking them. Later when he talked with John, the agent had
laughed at his dismay and had bought him two pairs of leather pants to cheer
him up. It wasn't that he didn't like the leather, but did people really
have to stare at him that way? He probably would have gone back to jeans if
it hadn't been for the way Mac reacted upon seeing him. There had always
been tension between them but this time it was different. More sexual than
competitive, and Victor would swear Ramsey almost pulled out his boot gun
when the woman at the airport, in the security checkout, had frisked him
enthusiastically.
If he didn't know any better he would swear Mac was jealous.
He moved closer to his subject. Adam was drinking some pop and munching on a
pizza, his foot was tapping to the music. Green eyes met hazel. Both looked
away.
Joe watched as MacLeod again raised his lady friend's hand to his lips. Mac
had met the young oriental woman a week ago, the same day Amanda had come to
town but surprisingly both immortals had not only shown interest in other
people, they had also been too busy to see each other. What with Amanda
busy flirting with her new boy-toy, this Ramsey fellow, going out to
different night clubs dancing, and MacLeod treating his new love interest
with trips to the opera and art galleries, it was no wonder that it had
taken a whole week for them to finally meet up at Joe's Bar.
He also hadn't seen Methos during that time but he had it on good authority
that the old man was busy writing a paper. His daughter Amy in fact had
complained about the boredom of watching an immortal travel back and forth
from his apartment to the library.
The phone rang. "Joe's bar. Amy? I can't hear you? Where are you?" Joe
shouted into the phone. He could hear loud music in the background. "What?
Cory? Cory Raines? Are you sure? Adam is dancing with Cory Raines, here in
Seacouver? In a gay bar? Amy ... Amy!" The connection was cut.
Joe stared at the phone. Adam. Adam with Cory. Cory Raines. He went to the
back of the bar, into his office. He turned on the computer, went to the
Watcher's site and typed in his password. He searched through the files and
found Cory had disappeared about a month ago. His watcher had lost him
during one of the immortal's trips through the orient.
What was Adam doing in a gay bar?
Joe went back to attend his bar. He knew Methos would never endanger his
daughter, that had been one of the reasons Joe had assigned Amy to watch the
young, two hundred year old immortal, Adam Pierson, whom she also knew to be
Benjamin Adams.
Mac approached the bar. "Joe, I'm taking Liann dancing. I'll see you ..."
"Mac, you remember Amy, my daughter, right?" Joe asked as a plan formed in
his mind. The Highlander nodded.
"She's at this bar, she met up with some friends and I was wondering if you
could look in for me and see if she's okay. You know, she's new in town and
..."
"Sure, Joe."
"Here I'll write the address down. You know her friends could be a bad
influence and well ..."
"Joe, I said I'll look into it."
"Thanks, Mac."
Mission accomplished. Damn spoke too soon. Amanda approached the bar.
"You're leaving, Duncan?" she asked, her hand resting on Mac's arm.
"I'm taking Liann dancing."
"That sounds like fun," she declared.
"Amanda, I don't think ... Amanda."
Two bodies pressed together. Heat. Wonderful heat.
Methos danced feeling the other man's hand travelling up and down his lower
back. His groin brushed up against the other man's. He moaned. "Vic."
Vic held Adam closer, fascinated by the way the younger man arched into him,
lips open, gasping, begging to be kissed. His hand slid behind Adam's neck
and brought him closer, holding him as their lips met. "Adam."
They continued dancing, their bodies swaying to a different music, to a
rhythm only they could hear.
"Duncan, you're sure this is where Joe said we'd find Amy?"
Amanda asked for the fourth time that night. She had tried warning the
Highlander about the type of establishment he would find, but he had been
set upon his mission: find Joe's daughter and, if necessary, see her safely
home.
"Amanda ..." They both felt the signature that signalled an immortal was
inside. They looked around them, making sure their partners were safely
behind them. "Stay here. I'll look around."
"I can look after myself," she protested.
"Yeah, but they can't," MacLeod nodded at the direction of the two mortals
accompanying them.
"Oh. My. God. Is that Methos dancing with Cory?" Amanda squealed aloud.
MacLeod turned to where Amanda was pointing, and indeed saw Methos slow
dancing with the immortal, Cory Raines.
Immortal. Immortal. The back of Methos' head kept pounding, warning him of
two immortal signatures nearby, but he wasn't worried. One of those
signatures belonged to the Highlander. Shit. He stepped on Vic's foot.
"Sorry." Damn, what was Mac doing here? Methos looked around and stared
right at MacLeod who was standing beside Amanda, both of them were gaping at
him.
What? What? It was not like finding out he swung both ways would be that
shocking to them. His dancing partner, stiffened slightly beside him. Oh
yeah, Vic.
"Victor, I'd like you to meet some friends of mine. Don't believe what they
say and if they give you any weird looks, it's um ... they have a tendency
of being overprotective. You know older sibling syndrome."
"They still treat you like a kid?"
"Always." Methos gave Victor his best Adam Pierson expression.
"Don't worry, Adam." Vic's hands went around his waist pulling the immortal
closer to him.
Vic. What was Vic doing here? Ramsey thought desperately looking around the
gay bar. What business did he have wearing those pants in a place like this?
Wasn't he supposed to be babysitting that geeky student?
Mac watched as Vic's arm went around the student's waist and his fist
clenched when they both shared a grin. He forced himself to watch as Vic
approached their small group, consisting of MacLeod, Amanda, and Liann.
Forced himself to stand still. Introductions were exchanged and Mac
completely ignored the strange looks MacLeod and Amanda kept sending his
partner, Victor. Vic, in leather pants. In a gay bar. Dancing with a geeky
student. A student for pete sakes! Was everyone going to get a piece of
Victor except him? Mac went into shock. No. It couldn't be. He couldn't be
attracted to his partner. Not Victor. Anyone but Victor. He almost did not
hear when the three suspects, MacLeod, Amanda and Adam excused themselves,
leaving Mac behind with Liann and Victor.
He couldn't think. Couldn't comprehend how this had happened. He kept
staring at the floor, refusing to look at Victor. Refusing to acknowledge
Liann's question. Of course he wasn't okay, he'd just found out he had the
hots for his very gorgeous, very male partner.
"Ramsey."
A voice that was husky and annoyed. Annoyed. He glanced up, straight into
Victor's green eyes.
"That's Cory," Amanda insisted, refusing to believe Victor could be anyone
else but her one time immortal lover.
"Amanda." MacLeod shook his head. That couldn't be Cory. The world would
end if there were two Corys. "Adam," he paused. "Methos," he tried again.
"Look, he's a mortal and I am pretty sure Connor and Rebecca must have given
you this lecture, ‘How to identify an immortal in one easy step.'"
"Methos," MacLeod warned.
"Mac," Methos grumbled back. "Don't you know that everyone has a twin out
there?"
"Hmm ..."
"Amanda, don't even think it." Both immortals warned her.
"Methos," she pleaded with him.
"No!"
"But Methos ..."
"Amanda, I don't take kindly to pouching." Methos' glare turned deadly.
"But I just want to taste him. I mean, I wonder if he tastes like Cory?"
Amanda asked, with a speculative glint in her eyes.
"Actually they kiss about the same except Cory does this thing with his
tongue that ..." Methos told her, a smile hovering his lips as he
reminisced.
"Oh yeah, I remember that ..." Amanda agreed with him. That tongue had been
in some places ...
"Will you two stop!" MacLeod growled at them both. He couldn't think.
Methos with Cory. Methos kissing Cory. Methos tasting Cory. His mind refused
to go there, he just did not want to know. Not now. Not ever. "Where did
you find the mortal, Methos?"
"Here at the bar. Is that a crime?" Methos answered cheekily.
"Methos." He gave up. It was no use talking to Methos. Especially not now
when he had started arguing with Amanda, that, no, she was not welcome in a
threesome, or a foursome for that matter. Foursome? MacLeod found himself
stepping back from both immortals who were giving him speculative looks.
No.
Not now.
Not ever.
Methos smiled at him, hazel eyes sparkling.
No.
A glint appeared in those eyes.
No.
He felt the quickening, Methos' quickening. Felt it surround him, go through
him, pull him forward. He quivered. MacLeod found himself staring back into
hazel eyes that started to dilate. No. He couldn't. Refused to think of
Methos and Cory, and ... lips close to his. He could feel the heat coming
from the other man.
Maybe.
He moaned.
"It's okay, MacLeod. I don't share. Stay here with Amanda, I'll take Victor
home." MacLeod found himself groaning aloud, as he watched Methos walk away
from him, going back to the mortal. He heard Amanda snicker beside him.
"Don't," he warned her.
"He's good," she said, admiration in her voice.
God, what was that? MacLeod wondered hopelessly, still feeling the
quickening travelling throughout his body.
"Ramsey." Victor had been repeating Mac's name and getting no response.
Finally Mac raised his head and he found himself staring straight into
confused brown eyes. "Mac?" His protective nature came out in full force.
"Vic, we need to talk." Mac grabbed his arm and dragged Victor to the bar.
"Mac?"
"What are you doing with that geek? And why are you wearing those leather
pants? Do you know how many animals were slaughtered so you could wear those
pants? Do you? Do you?" Mac asked hysterically.
"Ramsey, what is this about?"
"Leather pants," Mac murmured under his breath. "I'm a vegetarian for pete
sakes. Take those pants off, Victor. Off. Off." Mac started to desperately
pull Victor's shirt.
"What has gotten into you, Ramsey? And you're not a vegetarian, I've seen
you eat meat." Victor pushed Mac away. "Stop fooling around. Vegetarian.
Honestly, where do you come up with these things?" The Canadian moved back
to the dance floor.
Idiot. Ramsey, you're an idiot. Mac sat on the barstool. That was so smooth,
Ramsey, he thought sarcastically. God, what was he going to do now? It's not
like Vic has even shown any interest in him. No interest at all.
God, what has gotten into Mac? Victor thought as he crossed the dance floor
and made his way over to meet Adam, who was talking with a young woman.
Arguing in fact.
He stood next to Adam, as the young man continued arguing with the girl in
front of him. Their clear British accents, and the way they were fighting
made Vic wonder if they were somehow related.
"I'm taking you home," Adam insisted. If he let her stay behind and
something happened to her, Joe would definitely kill him. Again and again.
"No." The girl kept sending Victor speculative glances. "Look, I can't be
seen with two ..."
Adam cut her off. "Vic, this is my annoying kid sister Amy. Personally, I
was happy being a single child but Pop had her on the side so ...ow." Amy
pinched Adam on the arm. "Behave. Remember, you're still young enough to be
spanked," he warned her.
"Vic, I have to take her home. She shouldn't really be here ..."
"I understand." He had a kid sister, he knew how it was.
Adam pulled a protesting Amy toward the exit, telling her how he hoped she'd
learned her lesson, and this is what happened to tattle-tales. Adam
suddenly stopped in the middle of his speech and turned toward Victor.
"You're coming with us, right?" Adam said biting his lip.
"Actually ..." Victor watched as Adam again started arguing that if he
lived to be five thousand, he would never meet a brat like ... "Sure," he
found himself saying remembering his own arguments with his kid sister,
Alice. It was nice knowing Adam led such a normal life.
How did this evening get so complicated? Methos thought as he opened his
apartment door. They had driven Amy safely home and he had even walked her
to the door. He dropped his backpack on the floor and took off his coat.
He smiled tiredly at Victor, as he took both their coats and hung them up.
"Home sweet home." Methos walked toward the kitchen. "Want something to
drink?"
"Beer."
"My kind of guy." They shared a smile.
Victor looked around the semi furnished apartment, taking in the scattered
books placed haphazardly in the living room. He picked one of the books up,
‘Don Quixote de la Mancha.' Inside the cover someone had written, "To dream
the impossible: To live one life instead of many." It was unsigned.
Lying on the rumpled bed, Methos wondered how he could lead such a
complicated life. It was not like he actively went out in search of trouble,
somehow trouble always seemed to find him. He shifted on the bed, leaning
closer to the welcoming heat of the body next to him. Take this scene for
example, if someone were to sneak a peek at his bedroom they would think
either it was hit by a hurricane or a sexual orgy had taken place. They
would be right about the orgy, but a hurricane would also be close to the
truth.
It had been wild, savage, feral and fast.
Frenzied.
Methos rested his head in the crook of Victor's neck.
They had been talking. Just talking. About family, responsibility. About
things you couldn't control. About things you wished you could. Making small
talk to pass the time. Whatever heat had been there before, between them,
had disappeared on the dance floor. Now they were just two guys drinking
beer, doing the typical male-bonding thing.
A look between them passed, and shared. A gentle touch that lingered, the
need for lips to meet. Falling. The feeling of falling, and of hands that
made you whimper and moan, playing your body like a musical instrument.
Methos breathed in slowly. The musky scent of sweat and sex still hung in
the air.
He had looked like Cory, except Victor was an innocent. That rakish,
devil-may-care attitude Cory always carried with him was missing in this
mortal, but in a way, that added to the appeal. Made it more real. More
honest.
And he had told Amanda the truth, they had tasted about the same. The same
sweetness. The same saltiness.
Still that did not explain ... what concerned him at the moment. No, he
started again, what had kept him awake, while he should be asleep enjoying
the I-have-been-truly-fucked feeling, was discovering that somehow along the
way the sex had ... It wasn't about sex anymore. It changed. It had been
some time since he had connected with someone. Since Alexa, actually.
He missed it. Missed this. The connection to another human being. Hearing
their heart beat. Lying next to them. Snuggling. Living.
Methos gently kissed Victor on the jaw. He nibbled on the mortal's ear lobe,
as his hand caressed a nipple.
The five thousand year old immortal closed his eyes, feeling himself being
lulled into sleep by the heart beat that pulsed from the body next to him.
Wanton.
Victor never thought he'd use that word about himself. The sex had been
uninhibited, unrestrained, free. But it had been more than just sex. More
than just the act of two people fucking. He flinched at his own words.
They had just been two guys talking and ... he had found himself getting
lost in smart, mischievous, hazel eyes. Their gaze had lingered, their
hands had accidentally brushed and it had just seemed the most natural thing
to do. The most natural step to make. Lips met.
It had been so easy. So right.
Victor found himself smiling gently. Adam was a cuddlier. He shifted
slightly, allowing Adam more access to his body. He missed this. The
normalness of just lying in bed, enjoying the afterglow. Not having to worry
about the agency. About someone discovering who he was and getting hurt by
it.
Just now, lying here, he realized that one night with Adam would not be
enough but he knew he could not jeopardize the young man's life to satisfy
his own hunger.
Thinking back, to the past few months, Victor also realized that he had
changed. His brief but tempestuous relationships with Jones, Ray, Doggett
and Adam, had changed him. With Jones, he had discovered passion. With Ray,
hope. With Doggett, meaning. And with Adam, need. He needed all of these
and he wondered if he could persuade Mac to need them as well.
"Hmm."
"That good?" Victor gently teased.
"Yeah." Sleepy eyes blinked up at him.
"Ready for another round?" Victor asked as his lips brushed against the
other man's forehead.
"Yeah."
Victor chuckled. "I've reduced you to one word speech."
Adam yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Not a morning person." He rested his
head on Victor's shoulder and closed his eyes. It seemed as though that
short sentence had taken away all his energy.
Victor moved his hand along Adam's body, putting thoughts of Mac and a
possible future with his partner out of his mind. His hand caressed a
tender spot that soon had Adam arching into him, eyes still closed, a moan
forming on those perfect lips which Victor captured with his own. Feast. He
would feast upon this banquet, this bounty that was Adam's body. His lips
would taste the fruit, he would devour, relishing the feel, structure and
smoothness of the body now beneath his.
He used his body to form the words that could not pass his lips. Words that
spoke of need and want. Victor used his body to express his gratitude to
Adam for showing him what his body desired. Demanded of him, if Victor was
to survive his time at the agency.
The first time they touched, they had made love at breakneck speed. This
time he took his time, leisurely touching the younger man, bringing him time
and time again to the brink only to draw back and delay the moment, slowly
driving Adam out of his mind.
"Vic." A moan.
His tongue swirled around the tip of Adam's cockhead.
"Vic." A curse.
He stimulated Adam's whole shaft, stroking it with his right hand in rhythm
with his sucking.
"Vic." A plea.
Adam spread his legs allowing Victor greater access to his body. Hazel eyes
stared at him. Hands reached for him. Fingers massaging his scalp, urging
him forward, then holding him as Adam lost control. Victor swallowed tasting
the bitterness, saltiness that was Adam. The younger man shook and Victor
continued to suck.
Adam let him go, and Victor swallowed one last time. Taking a deep breath he
waited, trying to control the drive that was propelling him forward. Making
him move. Positioning himself. He lost. With a sudden, sharp, powerful
stroke he entered Adam, his cries inciting Victor further.
"Adam."
Lover, his mind screamed as Victor again sank back into the addiction that
was Adam's body.
Seacouver: Immortal twins and ancient fossils
he Director with a riding crop. Worst nightmare come to life. In front of
him. Sitting there. Smug. He blinked his eyes twice. Blink. Blink. Nope. It
was real.
