em615

tell me something about you

Wed, 10 Jun 2009 18:20:44 GMT

YOU'RE ON MY FRIENDS LIST, I want to know 28 things about you. I don't care if we've never talked, never really clicked, or if we already know everything about each other. I really don't. You are obviously on my flist, so let me know with whom I'm friends!

1. Your Name:
2. Age:
3. Single or Taken:
4. Favourite Film(s):
5. Favourite Song or Album(s):
6. Favourite Band/Artist(s):
7. Dirty or Clean:
8. Tattoos and/or Piercings:
9. Do we know each other outside of LJ?
10. What's your philosophy on life?
11. Is the bottle half-full or half-empty?
12. Would you keep a secret from me if you thought it was in my best interest?
13. What is your favourite memory of us?
14. What is your favourite guilty pleasure?
15. Tell me one odd/interesting fact about you:
16. You can have three wishes (for yourself, so forget all the 'world peace etc' malarky) - what are they?
17. Can we get together and make a cake?
18. Which country is your spiritual home?
19. What is your big weakness?
20. Do you think I'm a good person?
21. What was your best/favourite subject at school?
22. Describe your accent:
23. If you could change anything about me, would you?
24. What do you wear to sleep?
25. Trousers or skirts?
26. Cigarettes or alcohol?
27. If I only had one day to live, what would we do together? (If you have no idea, just say something crazy, it'll entertain me!)
28. Will you repost this so I can fill it out for you?

Gareth in shorts

Sun, 07 Sep 2008 15:27:26 GMT

I've finally managed to take some stills from the one-second clip I took of Gareth leaving the Sunday panel at Dragon Con wearing shorts. They're not great, but you can definitely see those lily-white Newport legs!

my Dragon Con experience

Wed, 03 Sep 2008 15:42:02 GMT

I attended my first Dragon Con on Sunday. I’ve heard about DC for many years, and I figured it was a crime to actually live in Atlanta now and not attend. And with GDL this close, how could I not?

I first attended the Hour with Kryten panel on Brittrack. Robert Llewellyn was a dream. Very funny, very charming, and very self-effacing. He had the entire room eating out of the palm of his hand with stories from the set of Red Dwarf. He told about having to have a mold made of his entire head at the beginning of each series; he told stories about his fellow actors, in particular Craig and his cars. I love the story about how virile “Ace Rimmer” was. Mr. Llewellyn was so much fun, I felt like my money had already been well spent.

When I left the panel, I had to stand in a massive line to get back into the same room I’d just left. :::grumble grumble::: Since I was at the end of the line I got a mediocre seat, but I could still see. Unfortunately, my new camera sucked, so all my pics were blurry and my videos were shaky, but it’s better than not having been there at all.

I won’t go into everything that GDL said since it’s already been posted. I did think he was so lovely and wonderfully filthy! What a fun sense of humor! I am disappointed that I’ve not seen any pictures on the net of him in shorts. I’m glad he had sense enough to wear them because it was HOT! I do have a very, very short clip of him exiting the panel. You can see him in shorts for all of about one second.

He and Anthony Lewis were lead backstage behind a curtain immediately following the panel, and GDL stood just at a gap in the curtains. Since I was on that side of the room, I got a perfect view before leaving. I gave him a small wave, and he gave me one back. Yay!

I hadn’t planned to stay at the con too long, but I’d wanted to visit the Walk of Fame before going. Luckily, I went to the wrong hotel, and, as I was leaving the Hyatt, guess who passed right by me? Gareth! I assume he was being taken to get food before having to sign autographs. He had a very neutral expression on his face bordering on looking bored, but he was still very cute up close. I had two thoughts as I passed him. “Damn, why isn’t my camera out?” and “OMG! He has gorgeous skin!”

So I made my way to the Walk of Fame in the Hilton, and I was damned impressed by who I saw just sitting around. Some had a few in their queues for autographs, but some looked really bored. Here is a brief list of who I saw as I passed through the room:

George Takei

Avery Brooks

Lance Henrickson

Adam West

Sean Astin (who had no one at his table)

Michael Rosenbaum

Edward James Olmos

Beau Bridges

Matthew Lewis

Anthony Lewis

James Hong

Michael Dorn

Mickey Dolenz

James Kryson Lee

Linda Blair

Robert Picardo

David Prowse

Ethan Phillips

Phil Morris

Gigi Edgely

Lou Ferrigno

Erin Grey

Erik Avari

I stopped by to tell Anthony Lewis how much I enjoyed his panel and his TW episode. He shook my hand and asked my name. What a cutie!! If I were a few years younger…

I passed right by Brad Dourif as I was exiting the room. OMG! Brad Dourif! And like an idiot, I did not even think to get my camera out and take one single picture of anyone, save one. I am a huge Avery Brooks fan. Best Star Trek captain ever! So I just had to take a pic of him. I thought the autographs were all outrageously expensive, so I didn’t cough up any more dough for signatures. But it was fun just seeing these people.

After seeing all this, I decided it was time to head home. I have a sick pup at home who needed attention. I’d really wanted to go to the Firefly panel, especially after seeing that Alan Tudyk was in attendance, but I didn’t have time. So I was about to head toward the MARTA station via the Hyatt when James Marsters walked right by me! I said “hey” and he replied “hi.” So cool! Damn, but he’s short!

Anyway, my Dragon Con experience was now complete. I met some absolutely wonderful fans, saw some amazing costumes and some stellar stars. And GDL! My platonic life partner’s brother was so excited by all the celebs I saw that he now wants to come with me to DC next year. I can’t wait!!!

Torchwood fic: Dressed for Success

Tue, 15 Jul 2008 02:16:14 GMT

Title: Dressed for Success
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing/character: Jack/Ianto
Rating: FRAO
Written for: Rounds_of_Kink
Prompt: Jack really likes that suit. And Ianto really likes that coat...so how is it that they keep getting each other so messy?
Kink: Sex with clothes still on or partly on
Prompter:

thefannishwaldo

Notes/Warnings: This story includes slash with graphic depictions of male/male sex. It also contains mild exhibitionism/voyeurism as an added bonus!
Very mild spoilers for everything before Reset.
Thank you to my best friend/roommate/beta Jena.

~~~~~

The Rift had been unusually inactive for three days in a row. The Hub was blessedly quiet. Jack was spending the morning working on a backlog of paperwork that had been threatening to avalanche. Owen was splitting his time between autoclaving his medical instruments and watching porn on his computer. Tosh was designing a computer program for her own personal use. Ianto was at the local Tescos stocking up on supplies. Gwen wasn’t even trying to pretend to work and was reading a trashy romance novel.

The ringing phone on Jack’s desk broke the silence. A few minutes later, he came out of his office.

“Alright, people. We have an unidentified flying object about an hour or so drive east of Cardiff in Talardd. It doesn’t sound too serious. Probably just a simple meet and greet. Send them on their way back home. Tosh, Owen, Gwen, go investigate. I’ll stay here and coordinate.”

The three of them rushed to the SUV, thankful for something to do. Jack contacted Ianto and told him that the three of them had left and to come back when he could but not to rush.

The UFO turned out to be a child’s toy space ship instead of the real thing. After listening to Owen kvetch for five minutes about wasting prime porn watching time by traipsing about the Welsh countryside, Jack told them to take their time returning to the Hub by taking a long, expensive lunch courtesy of Torchwood. Later he would have hell to pay with Ianto, who would somehow have to find a way to justify the lunch on the expense account. But Jack was sure he could find a way to make it up to him.

By now Jack was bored and horny. Not that a horny Jack was a rarity, but a bored Jack usually resulted in trouble. On the CCTV he’d been watching an equally bored Ianto, who had since returned with his supplies and had already put them away. He was bent over the counter in the tourist office, resting on his elbows reading a magazine.

Ianto was wearing the cute suit. Of course all of Ianto’s suits were cute, but this one suit was particularly nice. It was charcoal grey with a very nice sheen to it, and it was a little more fitted than the rest. When Ianto wore the deep blue shirt underneath the cute suit, it drove Jack wild.

Jack stole up the stairs to the hidden entrance to the tourist office and opened the door quietly. He took a second to admire the view; he could just make out the curve of Ianto’s ass beneath the suit jacket. He crept slowly behind the counter.

“You’re not nearly as stealthy as you think you are,” Ianto pointed out without removing his gaze from the magazine in front of him.

“Who says I was trying for stealth?”

“Oh please.”

“Okay, so my ninja moves need a little work,” Jack admitted.

He walked up behind Ianto, who was still bent over the counter. He put his hands on Ianto’s hips and rubbed his crotch against his ass.

“Is there something I can help you with, Captain?”

“I think we can probably help each other,” Jack replied.

He reached around with his right hand and rubbed Ianto’s crotch.

“Jack! The others—“

“Won’t be back for at least two hours,” he said as he carried on fondling the other man.

“But someone might come in,” Ianto protested.

“How often do you actually get tourists in here? Besides the counter is high enough that no one would be able to see anything, even if they did come in. And I’ve got my coat on. That’ll cover us both. You know how much you love the coat. Now relax.”

He continued to stroke Ianto’s hardening penis through his suit trousers. Ianto feebly tried to object once more before giving in to the sensation.

Jack was enjoying the sighs and the barely audible moans his lover was making. He continued to rub his cock against Ianto’s ass as he persisted in pleasuring him with his hand. He snaked his left hand around Ianto’s waist and nimbly undid his belt. Then he opened the trouser button and briefly let his left hand join his right in stroking Ianto thoroughly from balls to prick and back down again before returning his left hand to Ianto’s hip.

Jack pulled the zipper down and let Ianto’s trousers fall to his ankles. He squeezed Ianto’s cock, then ran his hand up under his dress shirt and down into his underpants. Ianto leaned his head back onto Jack’s shoulder while maintaining his grip on the counter in front of him. He ground his ass back against Jack’s hard penis and surged forward into Jack’s hand. Then he moaned, long and low.

Jack slipped his other hand into the underpants and shucked them down quickly. Ianto’s prick sprang up through the opening in the tail of his deep blue shirt.

Fumbling in his right trouser pocket, Jack produced a tube of lube, placed it on the counter in front of them, and flipped open the lid. Next he unfastened his braces in front and quickly unzipped his trousers, pushing them down onto his hips. Since the braces were still fastened in back, the weight of the coat on them prevented his trousers from falling all the way down. He moved Ianto forward, making him lean on his elbows once again.

Jack untucked his blue shirt and vest in front, then pulled down his own underpants and pulled his cock free, stroking it a couple of times.

He grabbed the lube and slicked up two of his fingers. Since they had sex on a very regular basis, Ianto didn’t need much preparation. Jack easily slid the two fingers inside Ianto’s willing asshole, more to lubricate him than to stretch him. He removed his fingers and added more lube, this time to three fingers. As he thrust his fingers in and out, Ianto thrust back, letting Jack know he was ready.

After liberally lubing his penis, Jack raised the back of Ianto’s jacket and shirt up slightly, then slid inside. Ianto let out a breathy “ahhh,” pushing back until his lover was in as far as he could go.

They started moving, slowly at first before swiftly finding a more satisfying rhythm. The office was filled with the sounds of sex: the whisper of fabric against fabric and skin against skin, moans, groans, and sighs.

“It’s a pity your pants are around your legs and you can’t spread you them farther apart,” Jack said with a low, gravely voice. “I know how much you love to spread your legs for me, Ianto.”

Ianto closed his eyes, bit his lip, and moaned. He loved it when Jack said naughty things to him during sex. It was one of the kinks that they’d discovered together since Jack’s return from his trip with the Doctor.

Suddenly, the door to the tourist office opened, and a short, round woman in her mid-thirties stepped just inside the doorway. All three of them froze.

“Oh! Um, sorry to interrupt,” the woman said in an American accent. “I was looking for the nearest public toilet.”

“Try the east entrance of the Millennium Center,” Jack said, pointing the direction with his left thumb. With his right hand, Jack resumed stroking Ianto’s cock, which was now leaking pre-cum profusely. Ianto’s breath hitched.

“Thanks,” she said. “Uh, carry on.” She winked at them before leaving and closing the door behind her.

“Oh my god!” said Ianto. “She knew what we were doing!”

“And you enjoyed it,” Jack observed, as they quickly returned to their previous pace. “I think you like the idea of getting caught, don’t you?” he asked, leaning in to whisper in Ianto’s ear. “Does the idea of someone seeing us get you hot?”

He moved to whisper in Ianto’s other ear. “I know of a club in London where people can watch us and see how much you love being fucked by me. Do you want people to watch you come for me, Ianto?”

“Jack!” Ianto shouted loudly as he came, covering Jack’s hand with long spurts of semen. When he finished, he slumped over onto the counter, resting his head on his hands.

Jack grabbed him by his hips, making shallow, fast thrusts until he, too, came with several loud grunts.

He leaned forward, resting on Ianto’s back while he caught his breath. After a couple of minutes, they stirred and began to redress. Ianto reached down to pull up his pants and trousers.

“Great. There’s cum on that new box of brochures for Snowdonia.”

“So tell them it’s a three-dimensional brochure and that’s fake snow,” Jack suggested.

Ianto glared at him.

Once their clothes were righted and they no longer looked like they’d just had sex, Jack pulled Ianto into his arms and kissed him.

“I was serious about the club. It’s very private and very tasteful. Well, as tasteful as a sex club can be. Do you think you might be interested in going sometime?”

Ianto blushed slightly at the thought. “Maybe,” he said with a one-sided quirk of his lips.

“I love discovering your kinks,” Jack said with a smile. An exhibitionistic Ianto would be very fun indeed.

~~~~~

At the end of the day as Tosh was getting ready to go home, she discovered a new file waiting for her on her computer. Surreptitiously, she opened the file and saw that it was CCTV footage from the tourist office from earlier in the day while she and the others were gone.

She had been working for a few days on a program that would recognize the sounds and movements resembling sex on the internal CCTV and would record the footage and store it on her personal hard drive.

Quickly and quietly, she moved the file to her flash drive, then dropped it into her purse for viewing at home. She shut down her computer, then headed out with a smile on her face.

Clever Tosh.

End

Highlander fic: Mourning the Future

Sat, 28 Jun 2008 23:37:34 GMT

In an attempt to motivate myself into taking up writing again, I am dusting off some of my old fanfic pieces. And I have signed up for a Torchwood kink prompt.

Here is a Highlander fic I wrote nearly 10 years ago. I was always rather fond of it and thought I'd lost it until I did a search for it and finally located it online.

Title: Mourning the Future

Author: em615

Rating: PG for mild slash overtones

Fandom: Highlander

Pairing: D/M

Summary: Duncan and Methos share a loss

A/N: This was written for a Lyric Wheel Challenge back in

1999. It contains the death of a major character, but not D/M.

This is unbeta’d.

Thank you to Jason for such wonderful, moody lyrics, posted at the

end.

Methos stood on the quay looking at the Seine without really seeing

it. The bleak winter day perfectly captured his mood. A fierce wind

whipped through his coat chilling him to the bone. He wrapped his arms

around himself in a futile attempt to stay warm. But the coldness came

from inside as well as out.

He had just come from hospital. It brought back so many painful

memories. Memories of Alexa. The tubes, the sterile room, the beeping

of the machines. He vowed then never again to set foot in another

hospital. Yet how could he not?

*****

A crowd had gathered near the end. Duncan was there, of course. His

presence made everyone else extremely nervous. Everyone else being

Watchers. There must have been twenty of them waiting in the hallway

and another five or six inside the room. Each was there to pay their

last respects. All eyes turned to Methos as he entered the cramped

room. They knew he was one of Them. Immortal. How they resented him.

He could feel their sharp, suspicious looks on his back. He didn't

care. He was there to say goodbye.

Joe motioned for him and Duncan to move closer. It was their faces he

wanted to leave the world seeing. They were the closest he had to

family, having lost Amy in a car accident two years before.

They sat gingerly on the bed, both holding his hands. He smiled

feebly, closed his eyes, and passed quietly from this world into the

next.

Without saying a word, Methos rose and left the room. As many times as

he'd experienced the death of a loved one, it never ever got any

easier. He always handled grief badly. Duncan surmised once that that

was what had kept Methos sane for all those years. He never lost touch

with his humanity.

The eldest found himself at the river across from Notre Dame. He had

no idea how he'd gotten there. He'd just been walking until he reached

the water. When he looked up, he realized where he was. A bittersweet

smile traced his lips.

*****

He didn't have a clue how long he'd been standing there. The day was

growing dusky and the wind more chilling. Suddenly, he felt a wash of

Presence.

Turning slightly he was able to determine with his eyes what his heart

already knew. Duncan.

The Scot drove up and parked in his usual place. It had been years

since either of them had been there; he'd sold the barge ten years

previous. Yet somehow he knew where his lover had gone.

He walked up behind Methos and put his arms around him, pulling the

older man's back to his chest. Together they silently watched the

boats sail by.

After several long minutes, Duncan finally spoke.

"Don't you think it's about time we headed home?"

His lover made no attempt to move. Duncan walked around in front of

him, blocking his view of the water.

"He's better off now. He's not in pain any longer," Duncan assured

him.

"I know that. It's just that..."

"What is it, Methos? Just that what?"

"I'll forget him some day," he anguished. Unbidden tears flowed over

the sharp planes of his cheeks.

"No, you won't, Love. You will remember," Duncan consoled.

"No, it's inevitable. How many Dawsons have I already forgotten? How

many cherished friends have I lost whose face I can no longer recall?

How many lovers have passed whose names escape me?"

Duncan pulled him into a comforting hug and rubbed his back.

"Then I will remember him for both of us."

Methos pulled back and looked hopefully into his eyes.

"I will remember," Duncan repeated as his own tears escaped down his

cheeks.

He then kissed the older man gently on the forehead, led him to the

car, and took him home.

THE END

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I Will Remember"

By Queensryche, from the Rage for Order LP

There's a cold wind out tonight

The chill of distant eyes

An orbit survey finds your mind

I will remember

You will remember

The star that came tonight...

There's a thought that fills your mind

A vision of a time

When knowledge was confined

And we wonder how machines

Can steal each others' dreams

>From points that are unseen...it's real

I will remember

You will remember

The star that came tonight

When you gaze at the evening sky

And you're reaching out with your mind

You might see the nation's eyes

Don't hide...it's you

I will remember

You will remember

The star that came tonight

Oh, can't you see the light

Of the knowing star?

A Highlander fic: Dessert

Fri, 27 Jun 2008 22:00:55 GMT

FIC: Dessert

AUTHOR: em615

FANDOM: Highlander

PAIRING: Duncan/Methos

RATING: FRAO for M/M slash

DISCLAIMER: I claim no rights to these characters. No harm or copyright infringement is intended.

NOTES: Many thanks to Jena, beta extraordinaire!

A/N: This is set at after the end of the series. The movies never happened in my universe.

I wrote this story about seven years ago for a fanzine. I decided to dust it off and post it.

SUMMARY: Old friends become lovers.

The call had come quite unexpectedly. He hadn’t heard from Mac in at least five years, yet there he was ringing him up to invite him to dinner. He hadn’t even known the Scot was back in town.

As Methos hung up the phone, he had suddenly been attacked by a terrible case of butterflies. *I wonder what he wants. Does he look the same? What if… Oh, this is silly. It’s just dinner with an old friend,* he thought to himself. But were they still friends?

They had not parted on the best of terms, with Mac telling him he didn’t even know who the Old Man really was. Not a terribly flattering thing to say to a “friend.” But hope springs eternal. Even though 5,000 plus years had taught him that life is full of disappointment, Methos still dared to hope that there could be something between the two men.

*****

He arrived at 7:36, six minutes late. He didn’t want to appear too eager, nor did he want to upset Mac by being too late. He was as giddy as a teenager.

Mac looked stunning. His hair had grown long again and was loosely pulled back in a ponytail. He was still muscular, but not bulky. He smiled broadly; he was genuinely pleased to see the Old Man. They hugged warmly.

While he put the finishing touches on dinner, Methos lounged on the couch sipping a glass of light, pleasant wine Mac had brought back from California. He surveyed the barge, noticing the subtle changes it had once again undergone. A few comfortable pieces had been added, yet it was still somewhat spartan. But it was a start; it was beginning to take on MacLeod’s personality once again. And, most importantly, it felt permanent.

Dinner was served complete with candlelight and fine china. Methos joked about being “wined and dined” but was secretly pleased to see that Mac had made such a fuss over him. They slipped into a comfortable, easy banter, catching each other up on the latest.

Duncan related his trip to Scotland where he searched for himself and how he eventually ended up in California for a couple of years. Methos regaled him with stories of his journeys to Egypt and Bora Bora and spoke of his new job at university. In five years apart, they’d each led quiet, if somewhat boring, existences.

At the end of dinner, Mac excused himself to return to the galley to fetch dessert, which had been simmering in a double boiler all night. It was a “surprise,” he told his guest.

He was actually glad for a few moments apart from the other man. More than once, he had caught Mac sneaking surreptitious glances at him with a silly grin on his face. It was unnerving. He didn’t know what to think of this unusual behavior. He needed more wine to calm himself down.

He quietly made his way to the galley to retrieve the bottle. Mac’s back was to him, and he was stirring something that smelled delicious.

Standing behind his host, Methos peeked over his shoulder, just as MacLeod was taking the pot out of the simmering water. He turned to get a spoon with which to dip the chocolate syrup, and ran right into Methos, spilling half the hot contents onto him.

Both men gasped in surprise. Mac immediately put the pan back on the stove while Methos stood in shock. Without thinking, Mac ripped the stained shirt off his guest to prevent further burning. Seeing that it had run down his leg, he stripped off his slacks as well. He knelt to the floor and divested him of his shoes and socks so he could remove the ruined trousers. Having done so, he looked up and noticed for the first time that Methos didn’t wear underwear.

He still hadn’t said a word. No smart assed comment; no words of wisdom. Not even “ouch.” It happened so fast. One second he was curiously trying to figure out what Duncan had prepared for dessert, the next he was standing naked in front of a kneeling Scot. A Scot who looked about as startled as he felt.

He willed himself not to become aroused. How long had he fantasized about being in exactly this position? But he was certain that his lustful feelings had not been returned. So he remained silent all these years.

After what felt like an eternity, Duncan rose from the floor. He wore an odd expression on his face. He took a dishtowel from the drawer and ran cold water over it. Then he returned to the other Immortal, who still had not moved an inch.

Carefully, Duncan ran the cool cloth over the still pink skin, soothing it, willing it to heal. He lightly rubbed his torso, easing over to his hip, down his thigh, then back up again.

Methos was having difficulty catching his breath. The touch was delicate and slow and extremely sensuous. His body betrayed him.

Mac smiled at the sight before him. He’d had so many erotic dreams about that naked body. He knew the Old Man was well built, but this far exceeded his expectations. His shoulders were broad and straight. His chest had a light dusting of fine hair. His stomach was sculpted. And his legs were well defined. He was perfect. And aroused.

He dropped the cloth and began stoking bare skin. Soft, flawless bare skin. Up and down. With each pass he moved closer and closer to the pointed pink nipple that begged to be touched.

Methos was totally immersed in the moment. He was breathing shallowly through his mouth. His head was tilted back. His eyes were slightly closed and unfocused. It was a dream come true.

Duncan’s other hand joined the first in fondling the pliant body. He wanted to touch him everywhere all at once. Shoulders, nipples, hips, chest, neck. Soon it wasn’t enough. He wanted to taste him as well.

Smiling evilly, he reached behind him to the warm pan and dipped his finger in the chocolate. He blew on it to cool it slightly, then painted the extended nipple closest to him. He held his finger up to Methos’ mouth. Immediately, he accepted the offering, licking the sweet mixture, timidly at first, then boldly running his tongue up and down the entire length of the finger before taking it into his mouth for a thorough cleaning.

Once clean, Mac removed his finger from the moist mouth, licked it sensually, then bent down to enjoy some chocolate himself. He gently flicked his tongue around the edge of the nipple before pouncing upon it with his mouth, sucking it hotly.

The older man moaned with desire and reached up to support himself on Duncan’s sturdy shoulders. He removed the clasp from his hair and ran his fingers repeatedly through his flowing locks.

Their mutual lust was reaching a fevered pitch. Both were moaning loudly as the Scot’s mouth made its way up his neck, finally reaching waiting lips. Their tongues wrestling wildly.

Duncan groaned loudly and suddenly turned Methos away from him and toward the counter. He bent him over and reached beyond him for the olive oil he had used to cook the night’s feast. He fumbled to remove the lid, finally doing so with his teeth. He poured the fragrant oil down the small of his back, letting it drip down between his cheeks.

With one finger, he followed the cleft and found the small, puckered opening. The other man was squirming in pleasure as he breached the tight ring of muscle. He plunged his finger in farther, delighting in the hot, velvety feel. He rotated his finger to loosen the opening. He was in a hurry, but not so much that he wanted to cause any pain.

He brought his finger out and poured more oil in his hand. This time he slid two fingers in and began twisting them back and forth. Methos was panting, begging for more stimulation. Neither of them could wait any longer.

Mac removed his fingers and quickly unzipped his trousers, letting them fall around his knees. He yanked his briefs down and stroked his rigid cock twice before he drizzled more oil into his palm. He used it to slick his penis.

He ran it up and down the cleavage of the beautifully rounded ass in front of him. Methos pushed back impatiently. Slowly, Mac slipped his engorged flesh into the inviting entrance. Both men sighed in pleasure.

When he was all the way in, he stopped, allowing the Old Man to adjust to his girth. He ran his hands possessively up and down the well sculpted back and over the tight ass. Soon Methos was shifting back, willing him to move. Duncan took the hint.

Slowly he pulled his cock out until just the tip remained inside the luscious ass. Just as slowly, he pushed his way back inside the welcoming heat. He continued this exquisitely unhurried rhythm for as long as he could, but his body eventually demanded a quicker pace.

Soon he was gripping Methos’ hips for leverage as he thrust himself repeatedly into the other man’s depths. His strokes grew more and more shallow, and he felt himself nearing the edge of bliss. He reached around and grasped his lover’s dripping shaft and rubbed it in rhythm with his strokes.

He heard a sharp, incoherent cry of pleasure and felt the wet heat of Methos’ fulfillment spatter his hand. This triggered his own climax as he shot his ecstasy deep inside his partner.

Both satisfied, they slid breathlessly to the floor. He pulled Methos to his chest, still facing away from him, and mindlessly fingered the soft hairs between his pecs. Methos snuggled his head underneath the Scot’s chin.

When he was finally able to speak, Mac said, “this wasn’t exactly the way I’d planned to seduce you tonight.”

Methos raised up slightly and turned toward him with a look of surprise on his face. “You planned this?”

“Well, not the burning chocolate, but, yeah, all the rest.”

“You never cease to amaze me, youngster,” he said with a chuckle.

“I haven’t even begun to amaze you yet, Old Man.”

The end

CSI Story

Thu, 26 Jun 2008 18:43:21 GMT

FIC: Switch Hitter
AUTHOR: em615
FANDOM: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
PAIRING: Nick Stokes/Greg Sanders
RATING: FRAO for M/M slash
DISCLAIMER: I claim no rights to these characters. No harm or copyright infringement is intended.
NOTES: Many thanks to Jena, beta extraordinaire!
A/N: This is set way before Greg decided to become a CSI himself.

SUMMARY: Nick decides he wants to play and chooses Greg as his playmate.

Greg fairly bounced down the hallway of the crime lab with a huge smile plastered on his face. An old friend he hadn’t seen for a few years had just spent a nice long weekend with him. A bouquet of roses had just been delivered to the lab tech from his guest.

Nick exited the break room and bumped in to the flower-bearing man, nearly knocking him down.

“Sorry. I didn’t see you there,” Greg apologized.

“Wow! Pink roses! What does the note say?” Nick asked, snatching the card from the bouquet before Greg could stop him.

“Give it back!”

Greg tried in vain to retrieve the note from the other man, who held it at arms length and tore it from the small envelope.

“Thanks for the great weekend in bed. Hugs and kisses, Peter,” Nick read aloud. “Peter!? Is this a joke?”

“It’s none of your business,” the lab tech said as he grabbed the note back. “And keep your voice down!”

“Aw, come on, Greggo. You can tell me. I won’t blab.”

Greg sighed heavily. “For your information, Peter was my first college roommate.”

“But a weekend in bed? Hugs and kisses? What’s up with that?”

“If you must know, I’m bi. You know, I bat for both teams,” Greg said quietly. “That doesn’t bother you, does it?”

“Uh, no. Not really. It’s just, I thought you had a thing for Sarah.”

“I do. Sarah’s great! But, let’s face it. She hasn’t exactly shown any interest in me, except maybe as a younger annoying brother type. Besides, I like to leave my options open.”

“Oh,” was all Nick could muster.

“Gotta get back to work. You’ll keep this under your hat, right?”

“Yeah, sure. No problem.”

“Great.” And with that, the younger man was gone.

Nick stood in the hallway in a confused haze for several minutes before finally returning to his case.

*****

The end of Friday night’s shift approached, and the CSIs were eager to begin their weekends. Nick, who had spent the week avoiding Greg, now sought the young chemist out. He found him in the locker room about to leave.

“Hey, Greggo,” he began. “Haven’t seen you much this week.”

“That’s probably because you’ve been running the opposite direction every time I come within 20 feet of your personal space,” Greg reprimanded. “I didn’t realize you’d be so freaked about, you know, the note.”

“Um, yeah. Listen, about that. I wanna make it up to you. Let’s go to breakfast, okay? My treat. Please?” Nick flashed his dazzling smile.

“Oh okay. But it better be someplace nice and expensive. I’m starving.”

“Deal.”

The two men left the building, talking and joking, their friendship once again on even keel. Or so it seemed.

*****

During the meal, Nick was distracted and reserved, tongue-tied and nervous. By the time the check came, Greg had had enough.

“I appreciate the breakfast, Nick, but I gotta split. You’re obviously freaked about my preferences. I’m outta here.”

“Wait!” Nick grabbed Greg by the wrist as he rose to leave. “I’m sorry I’ve been so out of sorts. Please don’t leave like this. I really need to talk to you about something.”

“So talk,” Greg demanded.

“Not here. Can we go to your apartment? Please? I can’t do this here.”

“Fine. I’ll meet you there,” Greg said as he turned to leave.

*****

“Alright. What’s this big pow wow about?” Greg inquired. “And stop pacing. You’re wearing a rut in my carpet.”

Nick obeyed and sat down on the couch beside his friend. He took a deep breath and began.

“Okay. You know how, when you’re young you’re supposed to experiment and stuff?” he asked.

“What? You mean with drugs?” Greg asked.

“No, no. I mean, you know, with sex and all.” Nick could feel the blush rising up his cheeks.

“Okay. Yeah. Like who can come the fastest, whose dick is longest, that sort of thing?”

“Sorta. But more than that,” the Texan admitted. “I mean, boys experimenting with each other. You know.” He couldn’t even look the other man in the eye.

“I gotcha. Fooling around with your friends. Yeah, I’m quite familiar with it.”

“Well, you see, I’m not. I know it’s normal for boys to explore their sexuality with other boys, but I never did. I didn’t have any friends that I felt comfortable enough to do that with. I was kinda shy as a kid.”

The light bulb went off in Greg’s head.

“So you want to make up for lost time with me, huh?”

“Um, well, you know, only if you were comfortable with that,” Nick stuttered.

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. It might affect our friendship and our working relationship.”

“No way would I let that happen,” Nick assured him. “This is just a friends thing.”

“And I don’t want people at work finding out about me. I get harassed enough about my hair!”

“It’ll just be between us. One friend helping out another.”

“I’ll have to think about it, Nicky. Okay?”

“Sure. Just let me know.”

“I will. See ya on Monday,” Greg said as he escorted the CSI to the door.

*****

“I was a little surprised to hear from you so soon, Greggo,” Nick said as he sat on his friend’s couch.

“Well, I thought about it all night, and I’ve come to a decision.”

“And that is?”

“Let’s do it.”

Greg stood and yanked his Hawaiian shirt over his head.

“Wait!”

“What?” the now shirtless man asked.

“That’s kinda fast, don’t you think? I was hoping we could sorta, you know, ease into this.”

“Ah, a seduction. Okay. I can do slow. Come on.”

He took Nick’s hand and dragged him into the bedroom. But before they reached the bed, the older man pulled back.

“Wait. I need to pee first,” he stalled.

“Bathroom’s through there,” Greg sighed as he pointed the direction. “But make it snappy!”

Nick relieved himself, then splashed cold water on his face and took several deep, calming breaths. When he was ready, he returned to the bedroom, only to find Greg completely naked, lying seductively on the bed, his head propped up on several pillows. The lab tech smiled sensually at his prey.

“You work out,” Nick observed appreciatively.

“I like to stay healthy,” Greg replied.

“You should wear more tailored shirts and pants, Greggo. Instead of those horrible…”

“We’re not here to discuss my wardrobe. Take off your boots, Nicky,” he commanded. “And your socks.”

Nick obeyed silently.

“Shirt next.”

Again, he complied.

“Now take off your pants and come over here.”

He hesitated before submitting to the order and finally stood before his friend wearing only his briefs.

“Come on, Nick. It’s alright. We’ll go nice and slow, okay? And anything you’re not comfortable with, we’ll stop,” Greg assured him.

This was apparently what the other man needed to hear, as he acquiesced and joined Greg on the bed. He sat tensely, staring at the younger man’s torso, wanting, but not daring, to look lower.

“What do you want to do? It’s your call. Do you want to touch me?” Greg whispered gently.

Nick nodded and gingerly reached out to place a hand on the smooth shoulder before him. He let his hand skim across the pale skin of Greg’s chest before returning to his shoulder and down his arm.

“You’re skin is so soft,” the Texan admired. “Not at all what I expected.”

“You know, you can touch me with both hands. And you can touch me wherever you want,” Greg encouraged.

Nick placed both hands on Greg’s shoulders and slid them down to the small pink nipples. He caressed them for a moment before gently pinching both.

“Um, I gotta tell ya. Nipples. Not a big turn on for me, Nicky. They’re not like a woman’s breasts.”

Nick immediately removed his hands.

“Oh, sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just wanted you to know you don’t have to spend a lot of time there to get me going, okay,” Greg reassured him, placing the large hands back on his chest. “Carry on.”

After composing himself again, the older man resumed his exploration, lightly gliding his hands across the other’s stomach. Greg flinched and giggled, pushing the hands away.

Nick was horrified. “What did I do now?”

“Nothing,” Greg said. “That tickled.”

“Oh.” The CSI breathed a sigh of relief, then joined his friend in laughter. This broke the tension that he’d been holding inside, and he finally felt himself relax.

Greg noticed the change in attitude. “That’s better. This is supposed to be enjoyable, you know. This isn’t a science experiment,” he joked.

“I know.”

“You don’t have to handle me so gently either. I’m a guy. Grab hold of something!”

Nick smiled lopsidedly and licked his lips. He then allowed himself to look at the other man’s crotch. He placed his hand firmly on Greg’s lower stomach and began to inch his way down to the dark patch of hair. He briefly carded his fingers through the coarse curls.

“I half expected to see a mohawk down here,” he teased.

“I let it grow back in,” Greg quipped.

Nick wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, but he decided not to pursue the conversation.

“I’ve never really looked at another man’s, you know.”

“Dick?”

“Yeah. Let alone touched one. Well, besides my own, of course,” he admitted nervously.

“Well now’s your chance, if you want it.”

With his index finger, he slowly stroked the length of Greg’s cock and back up again, completely avoiding the head. He repeated this several times before he was interrupted again.

“You know, the underside is more sensitive,” Greg encouraged. “And so’s the tip. Just like yours.”

Gently, Nick ran his finger around the head and finally grasped the other man’s growing erection in his fist. Delicately he began to stroke up and down. Motivated by the small moans he was hearing, he grew bolder, massaging faster and more firmly. Greg spread his legs wider, accommodating further study, and Nick slipped his other hand around Greg’s balls and caressed them.

Greg was squirming and panting. He needed to move on. “You know, Nick, your shorts look pretty uncomfortable, and I’ve found that skin on skin is always nice,” he hinted.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Nick considered his options for a moment, then decided that perhaps Greg was right. He raised up and slipped his white cotton briefs off, flinging them to the floor.

“Better?” Greg asked.

“Yeah,” he answered with a hint of surprise. “So. Skin on skin, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Greg slid down on the bed until he was prone, then motioned for Nick to follow suit until they lay face to face.

“May I touch?” Greg requested.

The older man nodded, and Greg began an exploration of his own, fondling tan flesh eagerly.

“May I kiss?”

“You wanna kiss me?” Nick squeaked.

“I’d like to, if it’s okay.”

The CSI considered for a moment before consenting with a quick nod. Greg leaned forward, making sure only their lips touched at first. He kissed gently and tenderly, and let Nick set the pace, which he did quickly, deepening the joining. Arms tangled around each other in an investigation of their own. Then aroused cock met aroused cock sending a shock wave of pleasure and surprise through Nick. He broke the kiss and pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” Greg said. “I went too fast.”

“No. It’s just, that was…that was…wow!”

Suddenly, he pushed the younger man onto his back, then covered the pale body with his own, sliding between Greg’s open legs. Easily he found a pleasurable rhythm and thrust his erection against Greg’s. Nick bucked faster and faster, moaning with delight with each stroke. Greg needed to rein him in.

“Slow down, Cowboy. You don’t wanna shoot so soon. There are other enjoyments to be had.”

Nick stilled and let the other man take the lead. Greg moved them back onto their sides, kissing and nibbling without breaking the delicious body contact.

“Do you wanna fuck me?” he whispered in the Nick’s ear.

“Yes, please.”

“Then stay right there.” Greg turned over and opened his nightstand drawer, retrieving a condom and lube. He handed the tube to Nick.

“Astroglide?” the CSI questioned.

“It makes things much easier, more comfortable,” Greg explained. “Do you want me to lie on my stomach? It’s easier to prep that way.”

“Um, prep?”

“Well, you can’t just plunge in. I have to be stretched out and lubricated first,” Greg said.

“How…” Nick’s eyes grew wide. “You want me to stick my fingers in your ass?! That’s disgusting!”

“You wanna stick your dick in my ass! Besides, it’s not as gross as it sounds. Trust me. I’ll help you. I’ll lie on my back so you don’t have to think so much about what you’re doing, okay?”

Nick looked unconvinced.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” the younger man reminded him. “We could go back to what we were doing before.”

“No, I’m okay. I said I wanted to experiment, so let’s go to it.”

Greg smiled gratefully and rolled onto his back. He opened the lube and squeezed a generous amount onto Nick’s index finger. Then he raised his knees and opened his legs, leading the lubricated finger to his opening. Nick toyed around the area before breaching the hole slowly. He pushed his finger all the way inside and twisted it back and forth, uncertain that he was doing it right. His fingertip brushed against the inside front of Greg’s rectum, causing Greg to arch his back and moan loudly with delight.

“What was that?” Nick questioned.

“Prostate,” the young man sighed.

“You mean turn-your-head-and-cough? That prostate?” he asked incredulously.

“One in the same.”

“And it feels good when I do this?” Nick repeated the tender stroke upward, watching with excitement as Greg, eyes closed, writhed in bliss and moaned again more loudly.

“Are you trying to kill me, Nicky?”

“I don’t know. You seem to be enjoying it when I do this.” Nick rubbed the erotic spot once again, more firmly, a smile spreading widely across his face as Greg bucked over and over again.

“Please add another finger,” the hyper-aroused man begged.

Nick complied, adding another lubed finger to the mix. After a few minutes, he added yet another. Greg was panting now, unable to lie still.

“Nick, please fuck me now. Please,” he pleaded.

After rolling on the condom, Nick moved on top of the Greg, positioned his cock at the opening, and pushed inside slowly, but persistently. He stopped when he was all the way in, unable to believe how good it felt to be inside his friend, another man.

Greg wrapped his long legs around Nick’s back, then leaned his head up to kiss the older man deeply and passionately. At some point, Nick had begun to thrust, gently at first, but growing stronger and deeper as their desire grew.

He became accustomed to Greg’s signals, sensing when the other man was close to completion. In order to drag their coupling out as long as he could, Nick slowed his movements when he felt his lover about to step over the edge of orgasm. But he was unable and unwilling to delay pleasure for too long, and soon he felt Greg’s hot semen shoot over his belly and chest.

“You just came all over me,” Nick panted with a mixture of awe and carnality.

Greg was in no condition to reply.

“That’s the most erotic thing that’s ever happened to me,” he gasped out as orgasm overtook him, too.

He collapsed on top of Greg, breathing hard and still shuddering.

“Uh, Nick. Condom,” Greg reminded.

Nick pulled out of his lover and removed the spent latex, dropping it off the side of the bed. He rolled off the other man, but pulled him along so they were embracing in a tangle of arms and legs.

“I feel so, so debauched,” Nick said with a chuckle.

“I guess that makes me the debaucher?”

“Greggo, anytime you need a debauchee, I’m your man!”

“So you’re okay with this?”

“Okay? Are you kidding? I’m switching teams!”

Both men laughed and kissed again, gently.

“Wanna spend the weekend in bed, Greggo?”

THE END