hopped out of the bed. Heading for the bathroom, he tossed over his shoulder,
"I get the shower first."
the retreating Scot from a tangle of bedclothes, Methos frowned. "You better
save some hot water for me," he warned.
"We could always
share a shower, you know," Mac shot back as he disappeared out the door,
having no idea how well his flippant remark had been received.
stretched luxuriously as he contemplated the idea that had popped into
his head at Mac's carefree and unintentional challenge. Share a shower?
With MacLeod? What a lovely idea. The oldest immortal slowly untangled
himself from the bedsheets, giving MacLeod time to get comfortable in the
shower before he descended upon him.
Feeling a draft
of cool air, Mac turned quickly to see Methos climbing into the shower
with him. He stared, stupefied. It didn't even occur to him for several
seconds that Methos was naked too. By that time, Methos had already switched
places with him and had Mac turned so his backside faced the shower spray.
"I wash your
back; you wash mine," Methos offered, no hint of amusement, seduction or
anything else in the reserved voice. Only a deepening tone that clued Mac
in that Methos was up to something. That deep flat tone sent a shiver through
MacLeod -- a shiver not of unease but of pleasure and expectation.
with whatever plan Methos was hatching, Mac leaned his forearms against
the shower wall, his head resting on them, and enjoyed the sensation of
Methos soaping his back. He didn't protest when the hands strayed to his
buttocks, lightly massaging them, before moving down his legs.
did catch when he felt Methos press up against his back to reach around
and soap Mac's chest. The hands once more strayed downward but halted abruptly
just above his groin and the beginnings of an obvious arousal.
them around so that Mac was now facing the shower spray. Mac quickly rinsed
the soap off then turned to Methos, an expectant gleam in his eyes. "My
turn," he murmured softly.
Methos easily capitulated, turning his back to Mac for easy access and
gave himself over to those magnificent hands.
surprised when Mac followed the same path his own hands had followed on
the Scot's body minutes before. When the hands slid over his buttocks,
Methos longed for a finger to stray in between in a lover's stroke of intimacy
but he was to be denied. Either Mac was actually innocent of what was occurring
here, which was highly doubtful in Methos' opinion, or the Scot was playing
with him, familiar with the game of anticipation.
with contentment, Methos almost melted to his knees when Mac's body wrapped
around his to soap Methos' chest. His eyes popped open, comically surprised,
when he swore he felt a slight pinch of his nipples. But when he looked
down, Mac's hands were nowhere near the aforementioned body parts and he
wasn't sure if he had imagined it or not. Then he found himself standing
under a shower of warm water, the soap washing away but the touch lingering.
creeping doubt from the other man, Methos swiftly took matters in hand
once more. Just before stepping from the shower, he lightly traced a finger
down MacLeod's nose and over the full lips. Cupping the Scot's chin gently
in one hand, he touched his lips to Mac's in a feather-light kiss that
melted hearts with the unexpected intimacy of it. Then Methos pulled away
and, stepping from the shower, grabbed a towel to dry off.
gaze followed the oldest immortal's hindquarters as a still nude Methos
exited out the bathroom door and headed down the short hallway for the
bedroom. A slow delighted smile lit Duncan's face like a sunrise popping
over a frosted mountain peak.
going to be okay between them, the Highlander suddenly knew. Things were
going to be more than okay; they were going to be
And that, MacLeod
knew, would grow to be one of the biggest understatements of his life.
off, he followed Methos to the bedroom, not bothering with clothes. He
suspected he wouldn't be needing those for quite some time.