AN: After 4 long years of working on this fic, here, at last, is the final chapter! Prompt #30 was "something hot" and uh...well. I'm so sorry.

"Ross, A-ach, Ross!"

"Ross ye whit?" growls the dark-haired Thane, grinning as his redheaded companion writhes beneath him, head thrown back to bare the jumping pulse point at the base of his freckled throat. He tightens his grip on Angus' byous cock, gently fondles the dusky foreskin. "Ross, mak fest forrit?"

Angus moans, long and low, like the wanton whore he only is by night. "Ay, treat ye, fuck, but Ross, A-thare a-"

"Whitten thing, jo?" Ross grazes Angus' shoulder with his teeth, and presses a sloppy kiss to the bite.

"Thare a wee bit o' strae stuck up my erse."

Ross abruptly ceases his ministrations. Angus blushes red as his flyaway hair, not quite able to meet his partner's eye. The bereft cock, irked by the sudden loss of stimulation, twitches.

"Y'in ettle earnest?"

"Ay." A bead of sweat trickles down Angus' cheek. His tongue darts out to catch it; licking his lips, he offers a coquettish wink.

Unceremoniously, Ross grabs Angus by the hips and flips him onto his stomach. His gasp is drowned in the mumbled mantra of doaty dou, fuckin' facie cunt, gaun skelp ye bare reid, which caresses the skin of Angus' lush bum, paler than the risen moon. Straw, sure as shite, has worked its ignoble way into the crack.

Into that crack Ross' clever fingers probe, slick with lantern-oil and the seed of his desire. One finger, then a second and third, plucking out the straw and scissoring, stretching Angus wide until he sobs, screams, for Ross to fimmis, please, A'm naurhand, gie's't awready ye blisst FUCK-!

"Cuddie-back up't erse?" Ross snarls, slapping Angus' quivering arse-cheek. "Ye viled hure, s'that whit ye want?"

"Ay, Dad, please, A need ye!"

And what Angus wants, what Angus needs, he gets. After all, Ross lives to serve.

The inspiration for this crack came from a series of conversations I had a couple of years ago with a friend who wanted to submit and direct Macbeth for our uni's theatre club. Me being the consummate Shakespeare nerd that I am, he consulted me on adapting the characters and text, and cutting down the script for performance. One of the decisions he made was to combine the lines of two of the supporting Thanes, Ross and Angus, and cut the character of Angus from the script entirely. The explanation we jokingly came up with for his absence was that Ross had, and I quote, "fucked him to death." We laughed so hard at that that I couldn't resist using it for this fic.

And then, night shift Tam was writing this (and trying to hide the fact that she was doing so from her poor coworkers,) and was like "hEy YoU sHoUlD wRiTe It In ScOtS" so uH...I did. I will not translate this trash for you. You have the Google if you're curious. I will say, however, that "Dad" apparently is a euphemism for God and that was too damn kinky to not use. I apologise to the entire Macbeth fandom for this trash.