Title: The Christmas Curse
Author: Linda Atkinson
Fandom: Highlander
Rating: FRAO
Many thanks to McJude for the beta, and the wonderful suggestions.
"I'm telling you MacLeod, I am under a curse. It happens every year at Christmas time. I think that it is the result of me being born before Christ. There is some kind of malevolent Christmas spirit out to get me." The ancient immortal settled back against the leather seat of MacLeod's Thunderbird glaring at the other man as if he dared the Highlander to contradict him.
Rolling his eyes MacLeod grunted, "Methos there is no such thing as evil spirits. And certainly there would be no evil Christmas spirits. Christmas is a magical time, peace on earth, good will toward men, that kind of thing."
"Oh yeah… that's what they all say, until the curse gets them. Then I end up getting run out of town on the nearest rail. I distinctly remember telling Nero all about the Christmas curse, just before I gave him that fiddle for a Christmas gift."
MacLeod flashed his irritating friend a grin. "The Romans didn't celebrate Christmas so you couldn't have given him a Christmas gift…"
"Okay, so it was a solstice gift, same thing."
Suddenly the sound of a tire whining caught both men's attentions. Then the car bucked as the tire blew slewing the car across the road and into a ditch. As the car sat tilted, nose downward, Methos hauled himself upright in the seat idly rubbing his neck. "I think I have whiplash."
"You're immortal, you'll heal." MacLeod tossed over his shoulder as he pushed the driver's side door open and exited the car. Quickly he moved to the rear surveying the damage. Fortunately the car had not struck anything so the body was sound, the blown out tire the only damage he could see. Sighing he unlocked the trunk searching for a flashlight. "Hey, Adam…come here and hold the light while I look for the jack."
Methos shoved his way out of the car pulling on his jacket then bent over the trunk holding out a hand for the flash light. "Do you have a spare?"
"Yeah, it's under the car. What I need is the jack. Do you see it?"
Both men spent the next several minutes going through the contents of the Thunderbird's trunk, but failed to produce the jack. Grumbling under his breath MacLeod slammed the trunk closed and pulled his cell phone from his coat pocket. "I was sure that I transferred the jack from the other car."
The two men stood beside the car, shivering as a cool breeze began to blow. Methos glanced down the silent road, as far as he could see no lights brightened the horizon. Shuffling his feet he glanced over at the other man. MacLeod was shifting from foot to foot, grimacing. "What's wrong, Mac?"
"I've really got to go to the bathroom." MacLeod replied his face flushing dark red. Methos snorted.
"So do it the time honored way, piss on a tree."
Glancing down the road in much the same manner as Methos had the Highlander took in their surroundings. The lone road was a long, quiet route between Seacouver and Cascade. The two men had driven over to Cascade earlier in the afternoon to attend an Estate Sale; however, they had found nothing of either interest or value to bid on. The car was settled into a shallow drainage ditch bordering on a large, fenced pasture although what animals might be pastured in it could not be determined in the deepening gloom.
On the other side of the road was a large vacant field, also fenced and without a single tree or bush in sight.
"What tree? Do you see any trees anywhere around here oh wise and ancient one?"
"Hey, don't get snippy with me. I told you to go before we left the house." Methos grinned or at least MacLeod assumed he was grinning from the tone of his voice. "Just use the fence post. It's wood and upright and almost tree-like."
"Actually that's not a bad idea." MacLeod said slogging through the knee deep grass up the embankment to the top of the slope. He grumbled loudly under his breath as the dewy weeds clung to his trouser legs. Shaking the wet grass free he carefully unzipped his trousers and aimed for the closest fence post. Methos caught sight of the wire running along the top of the fence just one second too late.
Before he could even shout the stream of urine hit the electric wire and sparked, the arc of electricity shot across the liquid and struck the nearest portion of MacLeod's anatomy. With a half-shouted curse MacLeod sprang back from the fence and tumbled down the embankment landing at the other man's feet. Methos caught sight of a limp length of pale flesh outlined by dark linen trousers, before averting his eyes, but not quickly enough to miss the thin curl of steam still rising from MacLeod's body.
Scrambling to his feet the Highlander advanced on the other man, but Methos thrust his hands up to ward him off, just as the tow-truck appeared on the bend of the road. Quickly brushing the weeds from his clothing MacLeod tucked himself into his trousers, and marched around the car to greet the driver of the tow-truck.
Methos was seated quietly in the front seat of the car when MacLeod climbed in, wincing as he sat down. A giggle escaped Methos' lips before he could clamp down on it, but Macleod just stared stonily at the road in front of the car without saying a single word.
*****
Parking the car in front of Joe's MacLeod tiredly climbed out, noting that Methos hopped out, and plunged into the door without a backward glance. Issuing a sigh of relief MacLeod followed the other man inside. He had almost dreaded the ride into Seacouver wondering when the other man was going to let loose with a myriad of ribald jokes concerning the unfortunate accident MacLeod had suffered. But much to his surprise Methos hadn't so much as mentioned the incident. Now MacLeod was almost weak-kneed with relief that he had been spared the other man's questionable humor all night.
Instead of assuming his usual place at the bar Methos wandered through the room heading for a small table tucked into a quiet corner. The new waitress, Sally Ann, a buxom middle aged woman who never missed the opportunity to flirt with the "younger" man hurried over to where he sat.
Joe had recently expanded the bar to add a grill and Sally Ann handed both men menus although it was almost ten o'clock at night. Methos thumbed through the flashy plastic pages finally settled on one. "I'll have a beer and one of those onion blossom thingies."
Methos looked over at MacLeod and smiled. "Mac, what would you like?" he asked all wide eyed innocence.
"Nothing, Adam." MacLeod said daring the other man to say anything. Methos merely grinned wider.
A sudden feeling of foreboding settled on MacLeod as he waved the waitress away, but Methos caught her by the arm. "Oh come on, Mac. Surely you want something… a burger maybe or… what about a barbequed wiener?"
*****
MacLeod pulled his car into the parking space reserved for him behind the dojo, and then hurriedly ran for the door as small hail stones pelted him. Standing in the shelter of the overhang he turned the key and stepped inside. The deep, resonant thrum of immortal presence hit him almost immediately and he sighed. Methos had let himself into the loft, yet again.
Yanking down the grille that covered the elevator MacLeod fumbled his brief case and the grocery bag he held as the car ascended to the apartment. Stepping into the room he caught the scent of fresh coffee and the tantalizing smell of something wafting through the loft. Turning quickly he dropped his parcels onto the counter then walked into the kitchen. Methos was bent over checking on a dish in the oven and MacLeod resolutely forced himself to not stare at the rounded globes of Methos' ass so snugly covered by the faded worn jeans he wore.
"Hello, Mac. Dinner's almost done." Methos said turning to favor MacLeod with a smile.
Wondering just when he had exited reality and entered the Twilight Zone the Highlander leaned over as the other man pulled a glazed ham out of the oven. The food smelled wonderful, he admitted, and if Methos was going to cook he could just let himself in more often.
Picking up the brown paper bag MacLeod began unloading a case of beer into the fridge, pausing to pull a bottle out for himself then motioning to Methos, "Do you want a beer?"
"Yeah, sure." Methos said depositing the baking dish on a folded towel on the table before taking another dish out of the oven. In a short time the table was laden with MacLeod's white ceramic baking dishes holding a variety of foods.
Dropping into a chair MacLeod motioned to the table, "So what brought this on? Feeling guilty about the other night?"
Methos scoffed, "I told you before I don't do guilt. Besides I warned you about the Christmas Curse before it happened."
MacLeod blinked once then frowned, "Methos there is no such thing as a Christmas Curse. Will you just get over it?"
"Oh really… well… I beg to differ with you and this…." He picked up an envelope from the kitchen counter waving it in the air as he sprawled in his wooden dining chair, "this is the proof!"
"What, are you getting evicted? You are not living in the loft until you find another place." MacLeod said in a huff, remembering just how difficult it had been hiding his attraction to the other man the last time Methos had been an extended house guest. Methos graced him with a withering glare and MacLeod continued ticking off items on his fingers as he went, "No? So are you getting sued? I know …they found out you're a fraud and are revoking your PhD in Ancient History. I knew you were just making it all up as you went along."
"Please, Mac," Methos said mournfully and Macleod felt a smidgen of guilt which he quashed with admirable ease. Finally, Methos laid out two white strips of paper on the table. "Tickets," he said as if they were the vilest things imaginable.
"Tickets," MacLeod echoed in a confused voice. "Your Christmas Curse is tickets?"
"Yes." Methos hung his head glancing up at the other man from under lowered lashes; a move he knew revved the Highlander's motor. MacLeod responded right on schedule. He flushed pinkly then eased his hand over to the offending items. They seemed innocuous enough; two unembellished white tickets printed in black ink, with the name of a travel agency MacLeod was familiar enough with to be sure they were legitimate.
"I don't see anything wrong with them."
"They're cruise tickets, MacLeod." Methos said sighing heavily, "You know how I feel about boats."
"Oh, that's just plain ridiculous. If you hate the ocean why on earth did you buy cruise tickets?"
"I didn't buy them. The head of the History Department's wife owns the travel agency. She donated them for a raffle that I got suckered into buying tickets for." Methos thrust a color brochure at the other man. "Actually it doesn't look that bad… but I'm really not sure I want to take a chance. I mean the last time I traveled anywhere by ship was April of 1912, and look where that got me."
"You were not on the Titanic." MacLeod said with more certainty than he felt. Methos actually let it pass. Glancing down at the brightly colored photographs of the ship's appointments MacLeod whistled, "Looks pretty nice to me. Look… fully appointed cabins, nightclub, casino, look at the buffet…pretty impressive."
"I know it looks good from here, but wait till we get on board…"
"We?" MacLeod queried, eyebrow raised. "Is that what this is all about? You're trying to con me into going on this God forsaken cruise with you."
"See!" Methos exclaimed seizing the tickets again, "I knew it. God forsaken cruise. It is the curse. The ship'll probably sink or something."
"Methos." MacLeod snickered raising his beer and drinking a long swallow. "There is no such thing as a curse. You didn't have to cook dinner, which was delicious by the way, just to get me to go on the cruise with you."
"You'll go?" Methos asked.
"Sure, I love cruises. Besides I have a few weeks off until my next classes start. It'll be fun, you'll see."
Casting a skeptical glance in MacLeod's direction the other man sighed again, "Yeah, but just remember Christmas is in three weeks, and the curse is still in full force and effect. So if you fall overboard and get your head stuck in the propellers or get eaten by sharks don't blame me."
The ship was berthed at Dock 27, huge, gleaming white, and festooned with a multitude of colored streamers and paper lanterns. A throng of people was milling on the gang-way and the deck when Methos and MacLeod pushed their way through the crowd. Briefly Methos scanned the confirmation letter he held in one hand while juggling an over-stuffed suitcase in the other.
"Promenade Deck," he said to MacLeod shoving the letter under his nose. MacLeod batted it away glancing around the staircases for the one that led to the Promenade Deck. Finally spotting it he tugged on the other man's arm.
"Here this way."
The cabin number was printed on the door and Methos doubled checked his keys before opening it. A warmly decorated front room greeted the two immortals. A spacious, by ship's standards, sitting room with a buff colored sofa and two side chairs, and a rich wooden bar stocked with crystal glasses and a small refrigerator. At the far side of the cabin was a king sized bed, and two dressers. A single door in the left wall opened into a small but serviceable bathroom with both a shower and a bathtub, and a double vanity.
"Hey, this is not bad." Methos tossed his suitcase onto the floor where it rattled ominously. Macleod glared at him then set his own luggage down more carefully.
He sat on the edge of the bed as Methos pulled the television remote from a drawer in the night table and flicked it at the small television set on the center of on dresser.
MacLeod lunged for the remote, "We are not going to spend the cruise watching television. Methos rolled away clutching the remote to his chest keeping it away from the other man. "Give it to me…" MacLeod rolled over the bed grasping Methos' shoulders trying to reach around the other man and grab the remote. "I said give it to me."
"No!" Methos gasped as two hundred pounds of Scot landed firmly on his back, He rolled over as best as he could, until he felt MacLeod's fingers sliding along his ribs. Stiffening his legs he tried to lever the other man off. "Get your own remote. Don't tickle me, don't you dare tickle me!'" he gasped. Laughing MacLeod flattened the slimmer man to the bed, raking his ribs mercilessly. Methos laughed until he hiccupped, then stilled as MacLeod leaned down to whisper in his ear.
"Give it up; you know you want to give it to me…."
Both men froze as the sound of someone coughing caught both their attentions simultaneously. They both glanced up at three gray haired women standing in the doorway of the cabin. Methos blinked, smiling at the trio until he realized MacLeod was still half straddling his hips. MacLeod also smiled. "Hello," he offered tentatively.
"Uhmmm… you left the door to your cabin open." The tallest of the three ladies said just as tentatively.
MacLeod brushed his hair out of his face, and then rolled off Methos. Flushing bright red form his shirt collar to the roots of his hair MacLeod gulped then glared at Methos.
"Damn you and your stupid curse," he thought uncharitably.
Rising hurriedly from the bed he quickly crossed the small cabin, extending a hand. The three ladies stepped back in unison as if they might flee the room until, finally, the one who had spoken shook the offered hand. Smiling he said, "I'm Duncan MacLeod and this Adam Pierson. Come on Adam say hello to the ladies."
Methos rose, smoothing down his shirt then nodded at the women, "Hello ladies." He said amiably.
"Oooh, you're British." One of the ladies said smiling and offering her hand to him. Methos flushed then shook her hand.
"Actually, I'm Welsh." He said, but the woman merely prattled on without even acknowledging his correction.
"I'm Carol," she said sliding in close beside Methos, tucking his arm into the crook of her elbow. "This is Penelope, and Geri."
"Charmed I'm sure…" Methos replied snidely and MacLeod nudged him in the back with a well-placed elbow of his own. "Duncan and I were going to walk out on deck and watch the ship launch. Do you want to accompany us?"
"Actually that's where we were going, to meet our husbands, when we heard voices from the open door.
******
MacLeod glanced at the clock on the night table as he maneuvered through the dimly lit cabin. Methos groaned softly dropping his sneakers on the floor by the bed and then carefully unfastening his jeans, "I would have undone the top button on my jeans at the table, but I didn't want the Hendersons and Phillips to think I was a glutton."
"As if the three trips you made through the buffet line didn't give them a hint?" MacLeod sighed too, rubbing his stomach idly. "Oh man, that was the best food I've ever eaten. Do you want to get a shower first?"
"No, I think I'll just lie here quietly and digest."
When MacLeod got out of the bathroom Methos had stripped to just his boxers and was asleep, snoring softly on the bed. MacLeod shivered as he watched the lean, well muscled chest rise and fall with every breath the other man took. The soft glow of the bedside lamp lent a golden hue to Methos' cream colored skin, and the dark nubs of his nipples puckered slightly from the cool air sent a fission of hot energy down Macleod's spine.
Not for the first time MacLeod wondered what Methos would do if he touched those tiny nubs or stroked the smooth expanse of chest, letting his fingers drift over the fine, downy trail of hair that led from Methos' navel to his groin. Would the other man refuse him, turn him away. MacLeod didn't think so, and the almost certainty was more frustrating than actually having Methos say he didn't want that kind of relationship. So MacLeod worshipped from afar, and kept silent.
Gently he tugged the coverlet down, feeling Methos stir when the blankets slipped from under him. Blinking owlishly at the other man Methos pulled his long legs up then slipped under the covers, and was asleep before MacLeod even tucked himself into bed.
Taking a deep breath MacLeod slid over beside the other man, bending forward so that he could catch the musky scent of Methos' skin. Smiling he settled down on the pillow and fell asleep.
*****
Methos woke the following morning to the feeling of MacLeod draped over his back. He shivered as MacLeod's chest hair made a warm, soft matt against his skin. Sighing, he smiled, he could get used to waking like this if only MacLeod would get on with it, and make the first move. Methos had always been reluctant to initiate any romantic relationship, it was a miracle he had married as many times as he had, discounting the fact that many of his marriages had been arranged and not a few forced by males relatives when Methos was caught dallying where he shouldn't have been. The few romantic entanglements he had actively sought had turned ugly, and Methos was now very reluctant to make the first move, even with Alexa he had been a gibbering idiot at the beginning.
So Methos made himself available, flirted shamelessly and waited for MacLeod to get a clue. Maybe subconsciously the Highlander was catching on, especially if the hard length of flesh nestled between Methos' buttocks wasn't the other man's hand.
The pressing need to empty his bladder finally drove Methos from the bed, and he staggered into the bathroom. Wincing he tugged his boxers over his erection, and sighed again. On the tank top of the toilet was a courtesy basket filled with soap, shampoo and various other toiletries, and, will wonders never cease, three condoms and small packets of lube.
Taking one of the foil packets he ripped it open and smoothed the cool gel over his aching flesh. Closing his eyes he let his fingers slide down then up again. With a groan Methos set a vigorous rhythm bracing himself against the bathroom wall with the other hand. A mindless moan issued from between his parted lips then Methos came hard into his hand. Panting he pulled a length of toilet paper from the roll and wiped the fluid away before using the toilet and turning on the shower.
MacLeod lay nestled in the tangled blankets on the bed, his own spent cock in his hand. He had heard Methos groan and awaken to the spectacle of the other man pleasuring himself in front of the open bathroom door. Quickly MacLeod lay back pretending to still be sleep, from under lowered lashes he watched as the other man bent over his suitcase pulling out clean clothes and dressing.
*****
Methos was seated at the bar in the living room when MacLeod got out of the shower half an hour later. "I'm going down to breakfast are you coming?" he asked. Methos nodded absently then began shuffling around the room looking for his sneakers before leaving the cabin. With a snort MacLeod finished dressing and walked out the door a few minutes later.
With a smile he headed to the dining hall, fully expecting to find the other man stuffing himself again. But he was disappointed when Methos was not there. MacLeod did see Frank and Geri Henderson, one of the elderly mortal couples who had shared a dinner table with them last night. Carefully balancing his breakfast tray MacLeod moved to their table, "Mind if I join you?" he asked.
Geri beamed up at him the pushed a chair out, "Sit right down. Is Adam with you?"
"No, he left before me this morning. Which is really strange since he isn't usually an early riser." MacLeod sipped at his coffee as Geri motioned another couple over.
When the new arrivals had seated themselves Geri motioned to MacLeod. "I wanted you to meet our neighbors," She said. "I think you already met Penny yesterday. This is her husband Ralph. This is Duncan MacLeod, he and Adam are that nice young gay couple in the cabin next to us."
MacLeod choked on his coffee. Coughing he quickly picked up a napkin wiping his mouth. Frank glared at Geri, "See what you did. Maybe they're still in the closet. You shouldn't go blurting those kinds of things out."
"Oh, no it's okay. We aren't in the closet. I mean we aren't…" MacLeod paused, what was he going to say? We aren't together that way, or we aren't gay. He had to think about that one; after all he had jerked off this morning while watching Methos masturbate.
******
He was saved from answering by the arrival of Methos, bearing an overflowing breakfast tray. Rolling his eyes MacLeod stood up and pulled a chair out for the other man, helping Methos into it. Giving MacLeod an arrogant grin Methos said snidely, "Going to tuck my napkin under my chin too, Mac"
"The way you eat you need a bib not a napkin. I do not know how you stay so slender." Turning to the elderly couple MacLeod motioned to Methos. "I swear he eats like a horse."
Geri grinned delightedly, "He's a growing boy. They're all like that; my sons ate everything that wasn't nailed down."
After breakfast Geri and Frank rose following the other couple. At the last moment Geri turned toward MacLeod and Methos. "We're going to the bowling alley do you boys want to join us."
Frank shrugged, "Geri, I'm sure they probably don't want to hang out with a bunch of old farts like us."
Methos shot MacLeod a grin that said, "If they only knew…" then pushed in his chair. "If you don't mind us hanging around we'll come. But I don't know how to bowl."
MacLeod caught up with them, "That's okay, Adam. I'll show you how."
******
Half an hour later MacLeod knew he and Methos were in serious trouble. Ralph and Geri were fierce competitors and Penny and Carl weren't much better, coupled with the fact that Methos was completely inept as a bowler they were the last place ranking couple.
With a grimace MacLeod watched Methos as he shifted from side to side trying to figure out how to aim the ball at the center pin. MacLeod shut his eyes to block out the sight thinking, "I really should learn to listen when someone tells me they're cursed. He couldn't get any worse if he was cursed and blind."
Miffed at the other man's continued inability to aim the ball he strode forward grasping Methos' wrist and sliding in close behind him wrapping an arm around his waist, oblivious to the avid stares of nearby bowlers.
Quickly he swung Methos around, and received an angry glare in return, "I can do it, Mac." Methos groused
"Well, obviously you can't or we wouldn't be in last place."
"I didn't realize that there were any places, we are supposed to be having fun." Methos retorted.
Shouldering the other man out of the way Methos stepped forward balancing the ball then swung. MacLeod jumped back to avoid being clobbered by the ball. He grimaced at his partner. The ball launched down the lane, wobbled then corrected itself for a strike. "Ha! In your face, MacLeod. I am getting the hang of it, if you'd just get off my back."
"Well, maybe if you'd get with the program I wouldn't have to get on your back."
MacLeod snorted. Methos whirled stalking the other man with a dark, menacing glare on this face.
Geri intercepted him, "Now, now boys don't fight. I would hate to get you two angry at each other over something as insignificant as a bowling match. Let's all kiss and make up."
Methos sneered at Duncan, but before he could say anything MacLeod seized him a huge bearhug, almost lifting him off his feet, "I'm sorry, Adam."
"Ack." Methos said tugging on the Highlander's shirt to get him to let go," That's okay, Mac. Really…you can put me down now."
Flushing MacLeod set the man on his feet, and sat down on the bench watching as Ralph tallied the scores. Methos' strike had brought them up even with Penny and Ralph and he felt much better. If Methos had finally gotten the hang of bowling they could still pull a mangled victory out of the jaws of defeat.
MacLeod watched apprehensively as Penny made her last roll, but she failed to pick up her spare. He grinned gleefully. Ralph merely nodded at Penny encouragingly then slapped her on the bottom and said, "Get me a beer from the bar, honey."
Methos rose to follow along turning toward MacLeod as he passed, "Mac, do you want a beer?"
With a grin MacLeod said, "Sure." Methos turned and MacLeod slapped him on the butt, and added "Thanks, honey."
Whirling Methos narrowed his eyes, "Have you lost what passes for your mind, MacLeod?"
"Ah, sorry. I just got carried away."
"You should be carried away by the little men in white coats to the nearest loony bin!" Methos smiled over his shoulder at the four elderly mortals who were staring, speechless at the two "younger" men.
Grasping MacLeod by the arm Methos dragged him to his feet and into the men's room locking the door behind them. "All right you have been acting strange all day, and I want to know why. Now… Highlander."
Shoulders slumped MacLeod winced wondering if he was about to become yet another victim of Methos' Christmas Curse., "Uhmm…Geri and the others assumed that we were together…"
"Well we were in the same cabin when we met why wouldn't they assume we were together?"
"No, I mean, they assumed we were a couple."
"A couple of what?" Methos rumbled dangerously, and MacLeod whirled. A soft smile lit the other man's face and Methos said, "Got ya."
"You knew all along?"
"I suspected when you pulled my chair out for me this morning. I just wanted to see how far you'd take it."
"It doesn't bother you?"
"No, in fact I kind of like it." Methos flushed, and MacLeod tugged him closer. Methos closed his eyes as MacLeod's warm breath washed over his face then tilted his head back, opening his mouth as MacLeod leaned in for a kiss. They stayed pressed together until someone knocked on the door.
Smiling regretfully at each other they parted and opened the door.
******
It wasn't until after lunch that MacLeod and Methos finally managed to part themselves from the others. The three elderly mortal couples called out invitations to meet them for dinner and the casino later that evening.
Quickly MacLeod unlocked the cabin door ushering Methos inside. They came together immediately in a series of passionate kisses that only succeeded in getting them tangled in each other's clothes.
Finally, MacLeod picked Methos up and tossed him on the bed. Methos reached down tugging his socks off, then leaned back on this elbows raising his hips off the bed to pull off his jeans and boxers. Tossing his clothes on the floor he motioned to the bathroom, "Condoms and lube in the basket on the toilet tank."
"We don't need condoms." MacLeod said.
"But we do need the lube." Methos said, stroking his hard cock, before reaching beneath his balls to touch the puckered entrance to his body. "Unless you're into inflicting pain."
In a few moments MacLeod had stripped and gathered the lube from the basket. He lay down beside Methos pulling the other man into his arms. Slowly MacLeod kissed and nipped his way down Methos' body, suckling on a rosy nipple, using his teeth to pull the tiny nub to a hard peak. His tongue mapped the hard ridges of Methos' abdomen then flicked over the marble hard shaft jutting out from the slender body.
"Ahhh," Methos said letting his head fall back, "Oh yes, Duncan. That feels so good."
"This is going to feel even better, "MacLeod chuckled against the quivering, silky skin. Taking a deep breath he swallowed Methos to the hilt. Methos jerked once then groaned deep in his throat. MacLeod crept his hand up Methos' thigh stroking his fingers up and down the crevice between his buttocks. Methos obligingly spread his legs. Quickly MacLeod retrieved one of the packets of lube squirting it over his fingers then gently worked the gel into the other man's body.
Panting MacLeod stroked more of the lube over his aching cock, and thrust into Methos in one smooth stroke. Methos' back arched and he hissed as his fingers sought a hold on MacLeod's broad shoulders. Moaning he urged the Highlander to quicken his pace. Soon both men were thrusting and panting. With a final grunt Methos threw his head back against the pillow, arching his back and came in hard spurts of pearly fluid. MacLeod groaned riding the other man's thrusts until his own orgasm washed over him.
With a deep sigh MacLeod collapsed on Methos' body, nuzzling the still heaving chest. Methos carded his fingers through the sweat damp curls spilling over MacLeod's shoulders, smiling.
Finally, MacLeod pulled out of Methos' body, rolling onto his back and pulling the other man into his arms. They lay tangled together, while the cool air dried their sweat and semen stained skin. "We'll have to get up and shower in a few minutes. I think Geri and Ralph are going to be waiting for us."
"Okay, in a few minutes." Methos agreed snuggling deeper into the soft blankets. MacLeod stroked his arm.
"I mean it… don't go to sleep." MacLeod leaned forward trying to catch a glimpse of Methos' face. Methos looked up smiling. MacLeod returned the smile, "So this cruise is not turning out so bad after all. And you were so worried about that stupid curse."
Methos rolled over onto his back, fluffing the pillow under his head. Through a haze of post-coital bliss he blinked sleepily and said," Curse…what curse?"
The End