Methos/Duncan: kink
Feb. 9th, 2007 11:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sparklebutchTitle: Kink # Fear play
Fandom: Highlander
Pairing: Methos/Duncan
Note: inspired by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
50kinkyways
"Methos?" Duncan walks cautiously into the house. He can sense his friend there, but the place is dark; it's almost nightfall and Methos failed to turn on any of the lights. Duncan leaves the grocery bags by the door.
"Methos, is that you?" There's a dark figure by the window, and when he turns his head, the cold blue light falls on his face.
Duncan feels his heart in his throat. It's not his friend sitting there. The man looks like Methos, and when he gets up and lazily strolls towards him, he moves like Methos; but the smile is all wrong, the eyes meet his not with warm welcome but with a sniggering, confident challenge.
Duncan draws his sword.
"Please don't," Methos says pleasantly. He has a gun in his hand. A gun pointed at his friend. Duncan knows from experience that the old man won't hesitate to use it. "Drop it."
The sword falls to the floor, clattering. Duncan licks his dry lips.
"What happened, Methos?" he whispers.
Methos seems to ponder it for a moment. "I think it's my past... coming to haunt you."
He walks to Duncan, forcing him to move backwards, and picking up his sword on the way. With both blade and firearm in Methos' hands, Duncan feels utterly helpless. Memories flash through his mind, the Horsemen, his own dark quickening; and his life and friendship with Methos. His love... with Methos.
"Do you fear me?" he hears the low, imploring voice of Death. Duncan nods, wordless. His hands are cold, his whole body numb and at the same time tingling with the dread, and the looming onset of panic on the horizon. Methos moves closer, closer to him. His back hits the wall, and Methos is still there, in his face. Duncan feels the cold metal of the gun against his temple, and of the sharp blade of his own sword against his throat.
"And how does that make you feel?" Methos whispers.
Duncan swallows. This is the moment of truth. He's not sure he can level with the other man, but he will try. "Good," he admits. "Hard," he adds, chuckling ruefully. It takes his dry mouth a couple of tries before he says it. "Horny?"
It's not really a question. Adrenaline rushes through him, and the cold lump in the pit of his stomach only enflames the heat in his groin. Methos presses against him, blade still between them, and kisses him viciously, a harsh bite and then sucking his lower lip, and Duncan breathes in and smells sweat and metal.
"Don't play with me," he says, no, pleads.
And Methos doesn't.
*
After they fuck - hard and frenzied, sword cast aside and forgotten but the gun always there, always pointing - and fear is forgotten in the heat of passion, they lie there in the middle of their living room, on the lush, now-stained carpet, in the pitch darkness of the night that had fallen.
"Happy?" Methos says quietly into Duncan's ear. Duncan tightens his hold, embracing the other man in his arms.
"Yes."
"Took you long enough to admit you wanted this."
Duncan, almost embarrassed, opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling he can't see. "Are you going to shut up and let me enjoy my afterglow?"
The chuckle he gets in reply is friendly, but something in its undertone sends a shiver of unease through his spine. Methos' eyes sparkle in the near-darkness.
Fandom: Highlander
Pairing: Methos/Duncan
Note: inspired by
50kinkyways"Methos?" Duncan walks cautiously into the house. He can sense his friend there, but the place is dark; it's almost nightfall and Methos failed to turn on any of the lights. Duncan leaves the grocery bags by the door.
"Methos, is that you?" There's a dark figure by the window, and when he turns his head, the cold blue light falls on his face.
Duncan feels his heart in his throat. It's not his friend sitting there. The man looks like Methos, and when he gets up and lazily strolls towards him, he moves like Methos; but the smile is all wrong, the eyes meet his not with warm welcome but with a sniggering, confident challenge.
Duncan draws his sword.
"Please don't," Methos says pleasantly. He has a gun in his hand. A gun pointed at his friend. Duncan knows from experience that the old man won't hesitate to use it. "Drop it."
The sword falls to the floor, clattering. Duncan licks his dry lips.
"What happened, Methos?" he whispers.
Methos seems to ponder it for a moment. "I think it's my past... coming to haunt you."
He walks to Duncan, forcing him to move backwards, and picking up his sword on the way. With both blade and firearm in Methos' hands, Duncan feels utterly helpless. Memories flash through his mind, the Horsemen, his own dark quickening; and his life and friendship with Methos. His love... with Methos.
"Do you fear me?" he hears the low, imploring voice of Death. Duncan nods, wordless. His hands are cold, his whole body numb and at the same time tingling with the dread, and the looming onset of panic on the horizon. Methos moves closer, closer to him. His back hits the wall, and Methos is still there, in his face. Duncan feels the cold metal of the gun against his temple, and of the sharp blade of his own sword against his throat.
"And how does that make you feel?" Methos whispers.
Duncan swallows. This is the moment of truth. He's not sure he can level with the other man, but he will try. "Good," he admits. "Hard," he adds, chuckling ruefully. It takes his dry mouth a couple of tries before he says it. "Horny?"
It's not really a question. Adrenaline rushes through him, and the cold lump in the pit of his stomach only enflames the heat in his groin. Methos presses against him, blade still between them, and kisses him viciously, a harsh bite and then sucking his lower lip, and Duncan breathes in and smells sweat and metal.
"Don't play with me," he says, no, pleads.
And Methos doesn't.
*
After they fuck - hard and frenzied, sword cast aside and forgotten but the gun always there, always pointing - and fear is forgotten in the heat of passion, they lie there in the middle of their living room, on the lush, now-stained carpet, in the pitch darkness of the night that had fallen.
"Happy?" Methos says quietly into Duncan's ear. Duncan tightens his hold, embracing the other man in his arms.
"Yes."
"Took you long enough to admit you wanted this."
Duncan, almost embarrassed, opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling he can't see. "Are you going to shut up and let me enjoy my afterglow?"
The chuckle he gets in reply is friendly, but something in its undertone sends a shiver of unease through his spine. Methos' eyes sparkle in the near-darkness.
