Play

Title: Play

Author: Kijikun

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Blood, style='font-family:Arial'>Squick factor, rough sex, death (non-permanent)

Beta:
Mecca, and thanks to Caz

Characters:
M/K, M/DM

Summary:
Methos compares through dream and reality, Kronos and Duncan.

A/N:
Wrote this a bit ago, finally pulled it back out and refined it a bit.
Combination of reading one of Pat’s unusual sex encyclopedia entries a
ca
conversation with a friend about it.

 
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Methos moaned as his lover
tormented him, stroking him from the inside. His head tipped back, eyes staring
unseeing upwards towards the gods who had certainly stop listening to him long
ago.

“Like that do you?” Kronos
chuckled darkly into Methos ear. an han his slick fingers over the man’s lips,
pushing into the warm depths of Methos’ mouth.

Under him Methos gurgled, his
body jerking with each rough thrust of Kronos’ hips. Relishing the sounds,
Kronos stroked Methos’ tongue with his fingers making the man taste himself.
“You know you do. After a thousand years, I know just how you work.” He
chuckled.

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Biting down on Methos’ throat,
he tore at the tender flesh there and earned another gurgle. He laughed and
pulled his fingers from the man’s mouth, scratching down Methos’ chest where
his other hand was busily twisting the source of the slickness. Kronos’ thrust
grew harder pushing deeper and deeper into Methos, as his hand wrapped about
Methos’ arousal.

Methos made a sound like a
whimper, but Kronos knew better. “Not yet, brother. Just a little more then you
can.” He promised, stroking Methos roughly.

It didn’t take long. A few more
harsh jabs into the center of Methos body, a few more rough strokes and Methos
was coming in long hot spurts, his mouth hung open in a soundless cry.

Groaning himself, Kronos pulled
the dagfromfrom Methos stomach and plunged it into the man’s heart. Kronos
thrust once more then shouted finding his own pleasure as Methos fell limp in
his arms. Collapsing onto his brother, Kronos pulled the dagger free and tossed
it aside.

“Rest well brother.” He
chuckled, stroking his bloody hand through Methos hair knowing the dead man
couldn’t feel it.

And thade ide it all the better.

*******************

Methos awoke with a start,
pushing himself violently away from the hands that settled on his arms. In the
moment between waking and awareness he could taste his own blood and smell the
smoke from the fire. Kronos’ laugh rang in his ears.

“Methos! It’s me, it’s Duncan.”
Duncan let him go but still hovered over him looking concerned. Brow furrowed
as it often did when Mac was trying to figure out just what to do.

Blinking, his eyes adjusting to
the darkness, Methos relaxed slightly. Just a dream. Damn it, but he hadn’t
dreamed of that in centuries. Oh, how he used to love those play sessions when
the pain alighted every nerve, leaving him without the breath to scream. “Did
I wake you, Mac?” he asked sitting up and pushing the thoughts of Kronos from
his mind. Blood, pain, and death had no room in MacLeod’s bed. Of that he was
certain and was glad.

Duncan shook his head, leaning
back against the headboard. “I couldn’t sleep anyways. You were thrashing in
your sleep. Almost kicked me out of bed.” He smiled slightly inviting Methos to
see the humor in him kicking the man out of his own bed.

“Well, if you didn’t take up the
whole bloody thing.” Methos muttered, grateful for the shield of humor. Duncan
and he hadn’t been lovers near long enough for him to consider revealing even
part of his nightmares.

“You steal the covers.” Duncan
pointed out whacking him on the head with a pillow.

“What is it with you and hitting
me over the head with things?” Methos grumbled grabbing the pillow and lying
back down with it. He’d teach Duncan to hit him with a perfectly good pillow.

Duncan pulled at the pillow.
“That’s my pillow.” He complained. Methos couldn’t see his face but he could
almost ‘hear’ the puppy dog look.

“Shouldn’t of hit me with it
then,” he told Mac, pulling the blankets back over his body. Methos smirked
slightly knowing what would happen next.

“Methos…”

“Don’t whine Duncan, it’s
embarrassing to hear at your age.” The smirked was turning into a smile but he
hid it in the pillow.

There was a moment of silence.
Then Duncan’s fingers attacked his ribs, the larger man leaning over him.
“Gonna give me my pillow back?”

Methos bit his bottom lip to
stop from laughing. He hated being tickled, if only because he couldn’t control
his movements and laughter. Squirming he tried to get away from Duncan’s
tickling fingers. “My pillow.”

“Well, it’s my bed!” Duncan shot
back, fingers moving up to his lovers arm pits. Enjoying making Methos squirm
and writhe as the laughter burst from him. With a short laugh, Duncan grabbed
for his pillow snatching it back then giving a cry of triumph.

His head hit the bottom pillow
and Methos smiled up thoughtfully at his lover. Laughter held a big part in
Mac’s and his bed. It wasn’t the first time he’d laughed in bed with a lover,
but it hadn’t been this….joyful in a long time. His smile turned into a grin as
Duncan leaned over him for a playful kiss.

Joyful was very good.

Only later lying sweaty in the
safe circle of Duncan’s arms did Methos let his mind wander back to the dream
and the games he and Kronos had once played. He missed those games sometimes.
Though he’d never taken the same amount of pleasure in the deadly blood games
as his brother had, Methos found something freeing in not being in control.

Sometimes he did miss the blood.
It never took much though, to remind himself why he didn’t live that way
anymore. The same reason why no matter how tempting Kronos words had been,
Methos betrayed him.

Turning his face slightly,
Methos nuzzled Duncan’s arm provoking a sleepily complaint from the man as his
stubble scratched Duncan’s skin. Duncan was nothing like his brother in bed and
for that Methos was grateful.

Though there were times when he
wished Duncan would take control of him, posses him. Methos knew Duncan had
some of it in him, the need to posses Methos, shimmering just below the surface.
He could see it when they spared or when their bed turned into a playful
wrestling match like it had tonight.

At the same time he knew Duncan
would never act on it.

Methos leaned back more into
Duncan’s warmth and tried to sink into sleep. Trying to pretend that it wasn’t
Kronos’ voice ringing in his ears.

End