Again Richie was silent as Methos drove them back to the barge. Methos was one of the few people he had ever felt comfortable being silent around. Richie could feel an odd smile playing around his lips and he turned his face into the window to conceal it from his companion.
That scene back at the barge had been odd to say the least. Mac had wanted to know how Methos had found Richie, where they had been. Richie had told the older man everything that he knew which wasn't much.
Reluctantly the redhead had admitted to not wanting to see his mentor at first. Richie had quickly tried to reassure Mac that he had just needed time…but Mac had picked up on the fact that Richie must have spent the extra six months in Methos's company.
Already frowning at his student spending time with that 'bad influence' Methos, Mac wanted to know what they had done together. And Richie had blushed as deeply as his mentor's burgundy shirt. Mac had almost broken a blood vessel then.
But Richie felt good about it. His smile widened a little was he remembered defending Methos to Duncan. Really, what was the old man supposed to do? He can't exactly restrict himself to his own age group now can he?
Getting it out into the open felt good. After Methos had left and they had both calmed down, Mac hadn't rejected him or continued to rant, instead Mac pulled him into a hug. For once, the man was going to let Richie make his own decisions, perhaps his own mistakes.
Mac had said that he would be there for Richie no matter what, that Richie could talk to him about anything. The Highlander had jokingly said that he would try listening for once. And Richie really wanted to be able to talk to Mac about the relationship that had quickly become really important to him. He wanted Mac to just be there for him, for him to talk to, get advice from without having his head bitten off or being ignored, his concerns dismissed. And that's what he had told Mac. Obviously this whole communicating thing was no joke.
And Methos had said that he loved Richie. It was like the last shackle had been removed and Richie felt light and unburdened. Happy, just happy.
Finally they arrived at their apartment and Richie jumped out of the car, letting his smile cover his face and practically yanking the old man inside by his wrist. At the door to their bedroom though, Methos yanked back. With laughing eyes, Methos lifted Richie's wrist to his mouth, nipping the sensitive inner skin and then trailing his tongue in intricate patterns over it.
Richie groaned, "God, yes baby." Methos's chuckle was a warm breath against his skin and Richie smiled as he pulled the taller form against him hard. The younger man loved calling the ancient immortal that and he got the feeling that Methos liked it too. It was possessive and Richie was now certain that the other man did belong to him. For himself, Richie knew that he had been captured a long time ago and now he was ready to prove it.
"Say it." Richie's voice was soft but commanding. He could see Methos swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing in that elegant throat, but the other man kept his eyes on Richie's own, not pretending not to understand.
Richie waited patiently despite the intense silence. "I love you."
The redhead tore off their clothes then. Literally, Methos's undershirt was a goner as was the zipper on Richie's jeans. Tumbling into the bed, Richie positioned himself underneath his partner and said confidently, "I want you to take me."
Methos's eyes widened but he didn't diminish the moment by asking if Richie was sure. The long fingers began to wander immediately. Gentle but insistent, they pushed Richie's thighs apart and Methos settled between them.
Everywhere, Methos's hands stroked him everywhere, his mouth hot and demanding, his nails scraping sensitive flesh lightly. By the time that Methos inserted a finger, Richie was desperate. He wanted to feel Methos's body covering his, feel the other man's weight. He wanted to cradle Methos, to give the ancient pleasure from his body.
And then Methos touched that place inside. Richie knew what it was, but Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! He was arching up into Methos, bucking his hips, panting harshly. Methos entered him slowly, letting him feel everything. There was only a slight burn of discomfort, but Richie didn't care. His only thoughts were joyful.
He felt connected in an indescribable way, both in control and out of it at the same time. Richie had only thought to give Methos pleasure, but his own was overwhelming as Methos rocked into him, slow but hard. He barely recognized his own voice crying out in what had to be the longest orgasm of his life.
And afterwards Methos seemed so happy already that when Richie said, "I love you," it hardly seemed to matter. He knew, they both did long before now.
It wasn't until later that Richie realized that he hadn't thought at all about any of his previous experiences.