 | ShatterStorm Productions
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| ShatterStorm Productions
|
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and places are the property of Davis/Panzer, Rysher Entertainment, and Gaumont Productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. . This site is in no way affiliated with "Highlander” or any representatives of the actors of the series.
Author’s Note: There were a couple of fits and starts, but nothing that worked out…until this version. Written for beeej's birthday. She’d wanted Hmmm...Duncan and Methos go to the movies? Or, Duncan and Methos and snow? Heh, I'm easy. *chuckles* So this is what she got…
Author’s Note II: sparklebutch helped with the title again. Yay!
Author’s Note III: Totally not beta’d. Hopefully it will be soon…. Totally my fault if it sucks ass....
Dedication: For beeej, for her birthday…even if it’s a little late…
"Methods of Persuasion"
by A. Magiluna Stormwriter
The Set-Up :: Duncan
“Oh come on, Methos!” I wheedled. “It’ll be fun!”
“Not bloody likely.”
The petulant tone of his voice made me smirk. This would be difficult to do, but oh so enjoyable in the end…for both of us. I eased closer and held out the brochure, immediately grateful when he plucked it from my hand. “It’ll be quiet and secluded. I checked and there aren’t any other reservations for the weekend. We’d have the whole place to ourselves.” Thanks to buying out the entire place.
“It’s bloody yuppie central.”
“It has all the modern amenities,” I corrected gently. “Including satellite television and wireless internet.”
“There’ll be crap to drink.”
“The refrigerator will be stocked with your favorite beer.”
“It’ll be that fancy crap food that’s more art than sustenance.”
“Our chalet has a full kitchen, and I’ll cook anything you like.”
He stared at me. “And if I prefer Highland sausage on a silver platter?” he asked sarcastically.
“I will lovingly prepare it fresh for you every time, no matter how often you want it.”
He stared at me, studying me for a long moment before returning to the brochure. His intense concentration could only be positive. Right?
‘No climbing to the summit,” he said, ticking off the points on the fingers of one hand. “No skiing, downhill or cross-country. No getting up at some obscene hour. If I choose to sleep until noon, I damned bloody well will. No parties with people you’ve met in town. No vision quests, no sweat lodges. No fasting. No playful romps through the woods. No snowball fights. No snowmen. And no bloody running out of beer. Or I’m outta there.”
“And would His Highness prefer I walk three steps behind him and kiss his feet each morning?” I asked sardonically. “Or is the hissy fit still going to continue for a while?”
I felt the glare before I saw it. And I laughed. As his glare intensified, I reached out to ruffle my fingers through his hair. It got a slap to the hand, but I didn’t stop, fingers knowingly skimming down the length of his body, pulling up close behind him.
“Highlander…”
“Come on, Methos,” I murmured in his ear, nibbling gently. “Think about it. We’ll have the whole place to ourselves.”
“And the staff.”
“Who will only come to tidy up and stock the kitchen,” I replied smoothly, nibbling down the side of his neck. “Think about it. Just the two of us. Sleep in late, wake up to a nice, lazy bout of lovemaking. I’ll cook breakfast. We can go out for a walk, collect firewood—“
“They don’t bloody provide it?”
I bit down harder on a particularly sensitive spot on his neck, continuing until he relaxed again in my arms. My hands stroked and teased the familiar terrain of his body gently, building up the pressure, the need.
“We take a nice leisurely walk in the woods, just relaxing and communing with nature. Nothing overly strenuous. And if we find a hidden glade or grotto, I’ll pull you in for a long, deep, soul-stroking kiss, pinning you against a tree. Stroke your body in all the places you like, slip a hand into your jeans before I drop to my knees to wrap my lips around your cock.”
His strangled groan made me chuckle throatily. I let my hands wander over his body a little longer before cupping the bulge in his jeans, delighted when he thrust his hips forward.
“You are an unmitigated, sneaky bastard,” he growled, turning lust-darkened eyes on me.
“I learned from the best,” I replied with a grin, eagerly returning the intense kiss he branded my lips with. Finally pulling back to suck in a lungful of air, I smirked impishly. “It always amazes me just how devious Connor’s become.”
Methos stared stupidly at me for a moment before those whiskey-dark eyes narrowed, his hand landing heavily at the back of my head. “Brat!” he chuckled. “Just for that, I should refuse your little love den in the woods.”
“But you won’t,” I replied confidently, nuzzling at his neck again. My fingers crept up under his Henley, feathering teasing, light strokes against his skin. His nipples stiffened as I dragged my nails across them.
“Mac,” he almost whined, head dropping back as I nipped at his adam’s apple.
Without giving him the chance to stop me, I dropped to my knees. Fingers worked quickly to open and shove down his jeans, and my lips engulfed his cock in the next breath.
The Set-Up :: Methos
“Oh come on, Methos!” Duncan whined. “It’ll be fun!”
“Not bloody likely,” I replied petulantly, narrowing my eyes at his smirk. Enjoying this, are you, Mac? I wasn’t going to make this easy for him. Where was the fun in just letting Duncan think he could always get me to do what he wanted? I snatched the brochure from him, still scowling.
“It’ll be quiet and secluded. I checked and there aren’t any other reservations for the weekend. We’d have the whole place to ourselves.”
Translation? Duncan bought out the place. So he was serious about this little rendezvous? I bit back a chuckle to snap out, “It’s bloody yuppie central.”
“It has all the modern amenities. Including satellite television and wireless internet.”
Secluded and all the creature comforts? Don’t give in too quickly, Methos, or he’ll get a swelled head…or two. “There’ll be crap to drink.”
“The refrigerator will be stocked with your favorite beer.”
“It’ll be that fancy crap food that’s more art than sustenance.”
“Our chalet has a full kitchen, and I’ll cook anything you like.”
Cook me anything I like? Bastard knew exactly what I liked. “And if I prefer Highland sausage on a silver platter?” I asked caustically, staring at him.
“I will lovingly prepare it fresh for you every time, no matter how often you want it.”
That admission, combined with the look in his dark, expressive eyes, nearly became my undoing. Images of Duncan offering me that gorgeous body of his whenever I demanded… Trying to get myself back under control, I studied the brochure. After a long moment of trying to wrestle my hormones into submission, and failing miserably, I gave one last ditch effort to see what he’d do, ticking the points off on the fingers of one hand.
‘No climbing to the summit. No skiing, downhill or cross-country. No getting up at some obscene hour. If I choose to sleep until noon, I damned bloody well will. No parties with people you’ve met in town. No vision quests, no sweat lodges. No fasting. No playful romps through the woods. No snowball fights. No snowmen. And no bloody running out of beer. Or I’m outta there.”
And I certainly meant it about the beer. That was not something to be trifled with, even if I had a naked and completely willing Highlander at my beck and call. A guy had to have his standards, after all.
“And would His Highness prefer I walk three steps behind him and kiss his feet each morning?” His question was sardonic and amused. And despite the very visceral thrill racing down my spine at the thought of Duncan worshipping my feet, he was being a rather smug little bastard. “Or is the hissy fit still going to continue for a while?”
I could have killed him. Especially when he started laughing. Why was it that I found this man so fucking incredible again? Insufferable… The feeling of his fingers against my scalp nearly undid me, but I couldn’t let him win that easily. I slapped at his hand, trying to push him away, but he wasn’t deterred. His fingers moved possessively, knowingly, over my body, and I felt the heat emanating off his body as he moved closer.
“Highlander…”
“Come on, Methos,” he murmured, voice hot against the earlobe he was nibbling. Stay strong, Methos. “Think about it. We’ll have the whole place to ourselves.”
“And the staff.”
“Who will only come to tidy up and stock the kitchen.” He really wasn’t playing fair. That smooth, even, sexy tone of voice. The lips and teeth nibbling and sucking their way down my neck. “Think about it. Just the two of us. Sleep in late, wake up to a nice, lazy bout of lovemaking. I’ll cook breakfast. We can go out for a walk, collect firewood—“
“They don’t bloody provide it?”
What kind of resort was this? I didn’t want to be doing all the hard labor. We could have gone to the island for that. I wanted to be pampered, damn it! I had to bite back a moan as he bit down harder right there on my neck. Smarmy little bastard knew just where and how to touch me to turn me to putty in his hands. Despite my desire to stay strong, I felt my body relaxing into his touch, arching toward his wandering hands as he gently stroked me into a low-grade frenzy for him.
“We take a nice leisurely walk in the woods, just relaxing and communing with nature. Nothing overly strenuous. And if we find a hidden glade or grotto, I’ll pull you in for a long, deep, soul-stroking kiss, pinning you against a tree. Stroke your body in all the places you like, slip a hand into your jeans before I drop to my knees to wrap my lips around your cock.”
Oh dear god! The man was going to be the death of me. He knew I hated the cold and yet he found a way to make me want to go romping naked in the snow. I didn’t realize I’d even groaned at the images his words conjured up until he chuckled so huskily. I arched into the blazing heat of his hands, cursing my clothes for barring me the feel of his skin on mine. I arched my hips sharply toward him when one of those hot hands cupped my growing cock. “You are an unmitigated, sneaky bastard,” I growled, trying not to give in too easily, and glared hotly at him.
“I learned from the best,” he replied with a smirk, which I wiped off his face with a soul-deep intense kiss. When oxygen finally forced us apart, he smirked impishly at me. “It always amazes me just how devious Connor’s become.”
Without having to see it, I knew I wore one of the stupidest stares at that moment. It took me a moment to register what he’d said. Once I figured it out, my hand shot out to connect heavily against the back of his skull. “Brat!” I chuckled. The laughter helped bleed off some of the excess energy Duncan’s touch had raised. “Just for that, I should refuse your little love den in the woods.”
“But you won’t,” Duncan replied with such unmitigated confidence, and began nuzzling at my neck again. It didn’t take long for his fingers to work their way under my shirt, barely ghosting against my skin, pebbling my skin into gooseflesh. I sucked in a breath when his fingernails dragged across my nipples, feeling them engorge with blood in reaction, imitating my cock again.
“Mac,” I moaned, practically begging him to continue. The sound was cut off as I felt his teeth scrape against my adam’s apple, and I let my head fall back to give him full access. Before I knew what was happening, Duncan was on his knees, roughly pushing at my clothes to wrap his lips around my cock.
The Pay Off
The day dawned cold and clear, no clouds in the sky. As Duncan stared out the window, he was temporarily blinded by the expanse of glittering white surrounding their chalet. It was the perfect day to explore their surroundings, after two days of near-blizzard conditions. Turning, he watched his lover sleeping. Even in sleep, Methos sprawled bonelessly across the bed, the sheets tangled around his waist. Duncan moved closer, leaning in to nibble a trail of kisses up his spine.
“Wake up, Old Man,” Duncan murmured. “The snow’s stopped and it’s absolutely breathtaking.”
“What happened to I can sleep in as last as I bloody well want to?” Methos groused, torn between burrowing under the covers and letting Duncan have his way with him. “Is it after noon?”
“It’s about nine,” Duncan admitted, tone not even indicating apology in the slightest. He skimmed his hands across Methos’ body. “I’ve let you sleep in the past two days, let you have your ‘Highland sausage’ as often as you wanted it, cooked, and pampered you like a pharaoh. Can’t we do something I want for once?”
Methos sighed, brought to full consciousness now. He growled softly and pulled a pillow over his head…simply to hide the smile at Duncan’s pouting tone. He knew exactly what Duncan wanted to do. And a part of him was excited to go out and see the pure white innocence of the world after a snowfall. Perhaps the only thing he enjoyed about the winter weather. He lay there a moment longer, letting Duncan’s skilled fingers and lips wander over his skin.
“You’ve a choice, you know,” he finally replied huskily as he pushed the pillow away. “Either you fuck me now and wear me out, or you let me get dressed and we go on your little ‘winter wonderland’ walk to wear me out. It’s really that simple, Mac.”
Duncan grinned broadly and pulled the sheet from his lover’s body to stroke down his spine before spreading the cheeks of his ass, tongue teasing down the crevice. After a short moment, he pulled back with a slap to Methos’ left cheek. “Get dressed, Old Man. I want to go romp in the snow.”
A hand snaked out and Duncan found himself flat on his back on the bed, Methos straddling his hips. A dark, feral gaze greeted Duncan when he looked up at his lover. “Don’t you ever tease me like that again if you want to keep your head, Highlander,” he growled. “Or more importantly if you ever want to fuck me again.” And then he got up and casually walked off toward the bathroom to take a shower.
Duncan lay there, stunned, until the shower turned off. He was still laying there when Methos came out and rummaged for warm clothes to wear. Rolling over, Duncan watched his lover get dressed with a grin. “I’m sorry, you know,” he finally said. “I just…”
“Save it, Mac,” Methos replied as he made his way to the bed to put on his boots. “You’d best get dressed if we’re going to go outside.” He grinned at Duncan and leaned in for a quick kiss before whispering, “I’m in the mood to go grotto hunting.”
Those words spurred Duncan into action. He quickly threw on jeans, a sweater, and his boots. Grabbing for his coat, he grinned at Methos, who was already slipping into his coat. They made their way outside and followed the general direction of the treeline. They could see the faint edges of a normally well-kept path into the woods. They quietly made their way along the path, just relaxing and enjoying each other’s company.
Methos found he was enjoying the solitude with Duncan. It wasn’t something they could normally expect unless they were on Holy Ground. And after five millennia, solitude and comfort were quite high on his list of requirements. He was pulled out of his thoughts when he felt himself yanked off the path suddenly. “What the--?”
“Shhh,” Duncan murmured hotly in his ear as he pressed Methos back against a tree. His lips traced a path from ear to chin hungrily before taking Methos’ lips in a demandingly searing kiss. Methos moaned and returned the kiss eagerly, rubbing against Duncan wantonly. Duncan chuckled into the kiss, hands skimming under his clothes to tease at his lover’s nipples again. “You remember now, don’t you, Methos?” he murmured.
“Don’t fuck around, MacLeod,” Methos growled breathlessly, thrusting against Duncan’s body.
Duncan chuckled again, hand sliding down into Methos’ jeans to stroke his cock. “Feeling a little needy all of a sudden, Methos?” he teased lightly.
Methos shoved him roughly, taking Duncan completely off-guard. Duncan landed heavily on his back in the snow, wind knocked out of him. The older man dropped to his knees, fingers fumbling with Duncan’s fly before he could free his lover’s cock. Before Duncan could actually take another breath, Methos’ lips were wrapped around his cock, taking his breath away again. Methos swallowed several times around the head of Duncan’s cock before pulling back. He stared at his lover, chuckling as he shrugged off his own jeans. Straddling his lover’s hips, he grinned. “You’d best make this fuck worth freezing my damned balls off, Duncan.” And with that, he dropped heavily down onto Duncan’s cock with a lusty moan.
Duncan groaned and reached for Methos’ hips, his own hips shooting up to meet his lover’s ass. He quickly began to thrust up into his lover, pulling the older man down for another demanding kiss. Methos met each thrust eagerly, wrapping a hand around his own cock and matching Duncan stroke for stroke. Duncan wasn’t sure if he could last too long…or if he should keep Methos out in the cold for long. Methosicles tended to become rather cranky when melting…
“Come on, Duncan,” Methos murmured huskily. “Let me feel it. Fuck me, Mac.”
Duncan groaned and began to thrust faster, harder. “Methos…” he moaned as he felt the older man’s ass clenching rhythmically around his cock.
“Yes, Duncan, that’s it. Fuck me harder,” Methos encouraged him, meeting Duncan thrust for thrust. “Make me feel it and when we get back to the chalet, I’ll fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.”
That was all it took. Duncan began to thrust up harder, faster. Methos shifted slightly and began to nibble at Duncan’s neck. Duncan clutched his ass tightly. And then suddenly it was more than he could handle. Crying out Methos’ name, Duncan succumbed to his orgasm and spasmed under Methos. Groaning softly, Methos continued encouraging his lover and stroking his body.
When he regained his senses, Duncan gripped Methos’ head in his hands and kissed him nearly senseless. Pulling back, he grinned at his lover and let one hand glide down to wrap around Methos’ cock. “You didn’t come yet, Old Man,” he replied curiously. Too cold for you?” Methos shrugged in response. “Go lean against the tree, I’ll warm you up enough to go back to the chalet, then I’ll massage you and warm you up until you can’t see straight.”
Groaning at that thought, Methos wrestled himself free from Duncan’s grip and staggered back to the tree. “This better be good, Highlander,” he groused playfully. “Or you’re never touching my ass again.”
Duncan chuckled and got to his knees in front of Methos, quickly swallowing his cock. He began to tease and torment his lover’s cock with tongue and teeth, two fingers moving to ease into Methos’ ass, stroking across his prostate.
“Yess,” Methos groaned, fingers threading into Duncan’s hair as he thrust roughly into his lover’s mouth. Memories of how they’d come here played out in his mind, mingled with the fuck he’d just had. And before he knew it, he was screaming and spasming as he came. He was inordinately happy to be trapped between the tree and his lover, as his legs threatened to give out on him.
Duncan greedily swallowed and sucked at Methos’ cock. Finally pulling back, he grinned up at his lover. “Come on, let’s get you dressed and back inside,” he said, grabbing for Methos’ jeans. “I’ll start a fire, let you relax in the hot tub until you warm up, and then give you a full-body massage. How’s that sound?”
“Great,” Methos groaned, easing into the cold, wet denim. “Can you carry me back, too? I’m frozen stiff.”
Standing, Duncan chuckled and rubbed Methos’ crotch. “Doesn’t feel that stiff now…”
“Brat!”
“I love you, too, Methos,” Duncan replied, kissing Methos deeply. “Come on, let’s go.”
As they started back to the chalet, Methos glanced back and chuckled. When Duncan looked at him oddly, he pointed to the spot they were leaving. “Some people make snow angels. We make snow fucks. Quite fun, if only it weren’t so bloody cold!”
* * * * fin….for now * * * *
