Aftershocks

The forces involved with the Quickening can have startling reasults... Particularly if the idea has been there for a while.

I'd killed the first challenger and went to my knees as the lightning began to gather.

The berserker who'd followed us screamed at Methos. "I'll take you and then I'll slice up your pretty faced friend, you bastard."

Methos was standing there, his sword casually resting on his shoulder. "I'm an Immortal. The term, bastard is redundant. He does have a pretty face, mind, I'd say handsome more than pretty."

The blond man swung at him and Methos didn't even look at him as he stepped to the side to avoid the blade.

Then I was too busy trying to breathe to watch.

I must have lost consciousness for a moment. I struggled back to my feet as the second quickening gathered around Methos kneeling a few feet away. I was caught in the backlash as the winds howled and the lightning sang.

Then a silence so great I thought I'd gone deaf for a minute. The stillness after the storm...

Methos was there, a gentle touch, a whisper at my ear. His hand brushed across my back. There was just the faintest touch of a nail scraping against my flesh. Ice followed it.

I turned to face him, more than a little afraid. Methos doesn't take heads. He doesn't like to fight. I'd watched him change, saw the man who showed up when he had to fight.

There's a deadly, black hearted killer in residence when he picks up a sword in earnest.

It was dark. We were too far from the road for anyone in a passing car to see the fight or the Quickening.

I wanted nothing more than to rest for a time on the damp grass and pretend I was back in Scotland on a summer night keeping an eye on the sheep with my cousin Robert, telling each other tall tales about what heroes we'd be as grown men.

I sighed. Robert was long dead and I hated the smell of sheep...

That hand stroked lightly along my shoulder. I caught my breath at the sudden heat flashing across my body. "Methos..."

"Duncan..."

Excitement flickered through my belly and I pulled him down with me. His shirt was slashed and wet with his blood. I ripped it off of him and got a handful of his short silky hair to drag him into a kiss.

He laughed against my mouth and yanked my shirt loose too. His breath was sweet with the wine we'd had with dinner and he tasted of coffee and brandy. I nipped at his lower lip feeling it tremble.

His arms went around me and he rolled me to my back as his tongue traced my jawline. I slipped my hand along his belt and got the zipper down while he kissed me into a mindless frenzy.

Then I couldn't think, couldn't do anything but yank at his jeans until I could get my hand on his cock. The scent of his arousal had me painfully hard in no time flat. His teeth and tongue worried my nipples and made me gasp for air.

Gently, he pushed my hand away from his cock. "Easy, Duncan. Let's take this home. You have a lovely big bed without stones and brambles."

Then he was on his feet pulling his jeans up and reaching for my hand to get me to my feet. "Move, Highlander."

I took a deep breath and followed him to the car. My pulse was racing and it was all I could do to drive to the loft without getting us arrested for running a red light.

Somehow we were parked and I dropped the keys fumbling to unlock the door. We didn't bother with the lights.

We left a trail of torn and bloody clothing from the old elevator to the bed. Footgear was kicked into one corner or another, I didn't care.

A knee slid behind mine throwing me off balance and I landed on my back with my legs open and my mouth dry.

Methos spread himself over me like a living blanket and I felt the hard strength of him and the beating of his heart against my chest.

Our mouths met and he took my breath into him; took life and fed it back to me.

I held him close suddenly wanting this to last. He let me breathe again and slowly started licking and sucking along my neck. I couldn't believe my body's response. All I wanted at that moment was to have his cock in me. I arched up forcing his hips against mine.

He laughed, such a young laugh, like a child with no cares. In that laugh there was only us and the growing delight of matching strength and two spirits that could never be separated, whatever happens tomorrow.

I took his hands and moved them to my hips. He smiled again and shifted my legs to press himself against me. He kissed me again and the fever rose in my blood.

Everything faded but the touch of his hands stroking and teasing, drawing desire out of me until I was shaking with the need of him.

There was something warm caressing between my thighs and then I felt him resting against me. He stayed there, pressing but not pushing in. He whispered my name and and I felt the wet, pre-cum and his fingers easing their way into me. Slowly he began to rock against me, then in.

He moved, I felt the warmth of his cock pressing deeper, then pulling back and I almost sobbed at the loss. He thrust into me again brushing against that perfect place, blinding me with pleasure. His mouth was moving over me again. I caught him close, matching his ferocity with my own.

His hand sought my cock as my mouth met his, drawing his lower lip in to bite and tease. Primal heat filled me, filled us, with the Quickening's blaze. I could feel the lightnings again, flowing over me, through him and back again.

I felt all the old barriers between us melt away and I knew him, for that one, perfect moment, I knew his past and understood... And he knew me. Then the wave of lust and frightening love overwhelmed me and I felt his orgasm begin.

My body answered and I followed him into the blessed darkness. Moonlight touched the bed with silver and I moved to ease a cramped shoulder.

Methos was asleep, curled, like a cat, into a ball against my hip. The shadows made a mystery of him again. There would always be shadows between us. Five thousand years makes for a lot of shadows. But... if he can put up with mine, I can deal with his. It's worth it, I think. He's waking.

 

~Fine~