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Methos, MacLeod, Immortality, among other people and other stuff, are all copyrighted by Panzer, Davis, Rysher Entertainment, and Gaumont Television. Nothing here is intended to infringe any of their rights and was not written for profit.

WARNING: This story includes explicit sexual themes, specifically homoerotic ones. If you object, don't read it.

All thanks go to my tireless beta-readers, Meghan and Ashlyn, without whom I'd never get anything finished, much less posted.

TIMELINE: This story is set any time between the 'Messenger' and 'Comes a Horseman' episodes.

Author: AnneZo @ fastmail . fm

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Simple Pleasures

The stretch of hot weather discouraged the dojo's usual clients from working out in the middle of the day and the two Immortals had become accustomed to having the building almost to themselves.

Today only one other man shared the space with them. He was working alone in a corner of the room. Duncan, checking his progress, noticed the young man's shoulders glistening with beads of sweat in the reflected sunlight. Watching him, Duncan admired his graceful, athletic build. His eyes followed every calculated move, appreciating the smooth play of muscles rippling under the tanned skin.

The young man worked on, oblivious to the Highlander's dark stare. Even the loose cotton pants couldn't disguise the tight curve of the young hips and Duncan's gaze was drawn to them.

Methos noticed Duncan's distraction almost immediately, in spite of the yards that separated them. He watched, mesmerized by the look on MacLeod's face as he stared at the attractive young man.

Unaware that he was being watched, Duncan looked around the dojo absently, wondering where he had been going. His sword in one hand was a clue. Resuming his journey across the dojo, he dropped onto the bench and bent to retrieve the soft cloth he used to clean and polish the katana.

Holding the blade up, he sighted along the length, checking carefully for nicks and scratches. Seeing that the surface was unmarred, he began to polish the ancient metal, restoring the usual unmarked shine. As he worked, he allowed his eyes to be drawn back to the stranger running through a series of familiar exercises.

His attention remained focused on the solitary figure. He was nearing the end of the series of controlled moves. The short, dark hair was slick with sweat which ran into his eyes. His concentration was nearly perfect and he didn't allow the moisture to distract him from his task.

The Highlander licked his lips. His eyes were wide and dark with unnamed thoughts that Methos understood. For a few minutes, the tableau held. Methos watched Duncan, who stared at the stranger, who noticed nothing.

Suddenly the picture changed. Bending over to pick up his discarded shirt, the young man caught MacLeod's fascinated stare. He returned the look speculatively for a moment before he making a decision. He smiled at the Highlander as he crossed the space between them. "Hello. I'm David."

"Ummm...hello. I'm Duncan MacLeod."

"Nice to meet you. I guess it would sound silly to ask you if you come here often?"

"Yes, fairly often. I own the place."

"You do?" David looked surprised, then he offered a smile of pure invitation. "Look, let's not play games. Would you like to have dinner?"

"Dinner?" MacLeod's brain didn't seem to be working.

"Yes, dinner. Or...whatever. I'm saying that I find you very attractive and I'm guessing that the feeling is mutual."

Duncan pushed himself off of the bench, gripping the sword tightly. "Oh, no, but thanks." He struggled for words. "Look, I'm sorry. I think I've given you the wrong impression. I wasn't..." His voice trailed off and he stood there helplessly.

David looked at him strangely, then shrugged. "Okay, if that's what you say." He walked off casually, not seeming to be upset by the rejection.

Duncan escaped to the elevator, sliding the door open and diving inside. Before he could shut the heavy metal door, Methos stepped in after him and pulled it closed behind him. The quick ride to the loft was completed in silence.

When the machine stopped, Duncan stepped forward and reached for the latch. Suddenly he found himself backed against the wall, trapped between Methos' hands.

"What's the matter, MacLeod? Did you get in a bit deeper than you had planned?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"I think you do. That quite a performance. I'm not surprised he got the wrong idea."

"I don't know what you mean," Duncan repeated stubbornly.

"You're lying. The question is whether you're lying to me or to yourself."

He moved closer until only inches separated their sweat-slicked bodies. MacLeod could feel the heat radiating from the other man and it was difficult to breathe in the small space.

"What do you want me to say?"

Methos felt the urge to run his fingers through the long, dark hair hanging loose around the other man's shoulders.

"I want you to say that you knew what you were doing down there." He moved closer. Their chests rose and fell as they breathed and their bodies brushed and separated, creating a distracting ache in MacLeod's stomach. Duncan could feel his heart racing.

Methos leaned impossibly closer, somehow all over MacLeod but still not touching him.

"No."

"Say yes. Admit it."

"I wasn't... It wasn't because of that...."

"What?"

"It wasn't what you think."

"Well?"

"He reminded me of you." Duncan pushed him back against the heavy wire door and pinned him there. He kissed the other man warmly and felt the arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer.

"What's the matter? You jealous?" He smiled wickedly into the hazel eyes. Shifting his weight slightly, he rocked his hips slowly, enjoying the familiar feel of the hard body pressed against his own.

"Who, me?"

"Admit it. You were jealous of that kid."

Methos tried to push him away. "Look, if that's what you want, you should have accepted his invitation. I wouldn't have stopped you."

"You heard?"

"Of course I did. Neither of you were being very subtle."

"Maybe I should have accepted at that."

"What?"

He laughed softly. "You have to watch the young ones coming up behind you. They're inventing new moves all the time."

"Trust me, MacLeod. You know as much as you need to know already."

"Oh, I don't think so." He trailed a path of kisses along his lover's neck, working his way around to nibble one earlobe. "I'm feeling the need of some lessons."

"Are you now?" Methos leaned into the embrace, letting his hands rub the other man's back softly. "I think I can help you with that."

"Do you think so?"

"I may know a thing or two you haven't learned yet."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

"I'm sure you were." One hand slid a few inches inside the loose sweatpants and pinched painfully. That earned him a quick bite on the neck. Methos yelped and MacLeod apologized with a kiss.

"When are we going to start?"

"As soon as we get out of this elevator." The second hand slid in to join the first and squeezed firmly.

"Oh? I was thinking it made a great setting." Duncan licked his neck, grinning when he felt the shiver of reaction.

"Were you? And what did you have in mind? Something that involved being chained to the grille?"

"How did you guess?"

"You're predictable, MacLeod. I have a better idea." Methos' hands began to massage his lower back firmly, slipping in and out of the loose pants with each stroke.

"Mmmm...I like the sound of that." He pressed back against the firm hands and sighed.

"I thought you might. By the way, speaking of toys...."

"We weren't speaking of toys." Duncan froze and looked at him suspiciously.

"Trust me, we were about to."

"What's the matter, your imagination letting you down?"

"I thought you wanted something new?"

"Mmmm...you taste good." MacLeod nibbled the curve of his neck, then licked one sensitive earlobe.

"That gives me another idea."

"I hoped it would."

"We still have to leave the elevator."

"You're not trying, Methos." Duncan kissed him persuasively.

"You're kidding, aren't you?"

"Don't you think it sounds like fun? Where's your sense of adventure?"

"What's wrong with the bed? That's what beds are for," Methos whispered. He tangled his hands in the soft, dark hair and kissed him slowly and thoroughly.

"It's not very creative," Duncan pretended to object.

Methos slid his hand inside the other man's pants and stroked him gently. "Oh, I don't know about that. I think I can convince you otherwise."

Duncan's smiled blissfully and rocked against the strong fingers. "I was hoping you'd say that. Convince me."

"You'll see. I'll need a blindfold, a few leather straps, and some items from the kitchen."

"Am I going to like this?"

Methos laughed softly and pushed him into the small hallway. "Let's hope so. I know I am."

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The End