emilia smith ( methosalltheway )

please comment and all add more...

One day, Methos, Joe, Duncan, and Richie were sitting around at Joe's bar.

It was a day or two since Byron had showed up, back into Methos's life, or Doc as Byron referred to him. He'd never told him his real name.

Duncan had disliked the man immediately. Duncan knew just as Joe did, that Byron had been throwing nightly parties since arriving.

He had no idea what all that would entail but he knew it wouldn't be something he would approve of.

What he didn't know was that not only Mike at the bar attended, but that two of his friends, siting right near, had been there as well.

Methos had gone, tempted to feel that debauchery, the like of he'd not seen really since Rome had fallen.

Just to feel bliss, no today, no tomorrow, just the moment, to live only in the moment. All cares and worries had no place there. Methos had craved it and caved in.

The thing Methos hadn't accounted for at all was running into Richie, Duncans student and almost son.

He was lounging comfortably across a plush couch in a bedroom, Byron having just left him to go see to his guests, always the good host.

Methos had kept pace with his old lover as he swallowed pills, with adjoining drinks, and rails of great coke. The kiss Methos had been given as he left was as good as his memories said it would be.

What would straight laced Duncan say seeing him in this state?

But the thought was immediately tossed aside, it was the moment that mattered, all else could go to hell.

He set up another large line on the mirror his host had so kindly left him, snorting it like a pro. He was enraptured with the mirror for a few minuets, the forced himself to set it aside.

He was fucked up and didn't want to get stuck in the mirror, it was always a temptation when tripping, and he was roll'n as well, a newer drug to him, that from the way his body felt at the moment was a drug he had seriously overlooked.

His head rolled to the side, laying out on the couch as he was, and he felt presence. It was young he knew instinctively, and didn't have that flavor that accompanied Byrons quickening he always felt.

He knew he should be worried, should get his sword, but he was attached to the couch, and the sword was just so so far away it seemed. He rationalized that usually he just ignored the very young, they were not a threat really.

It got stronger, seeming to get closer, why he was seeking him out made him worry for a moment even if it was the feeling of a baby immortal. Then, in the door way, back lit from the hallway, stood Richie.

Duncans student and protege of sorts. Methos wished he could disappear into the couch fully. Then he saw the moment he was recognized, the look of comprehension across his face.

Richie looked curious at him, entering, coming closer, and Methos wished for a moment that he hadn't allowed himself to indulge to the extent he had. But it was past, he was fucked up, and why worry about any of it now?

Now he was sitting beside him on the couch. It was clear to Methos that he also had enjoyed the copius amounts of party favors being passed around.

He looked uncomfortably at Methos, as if he were going to be reprimanded in some way, he worried as he looked him over that he would tell Duncan, tell him how terribly at risk he was putting him self in by allowing himself to get so fucked up.

But Methos just continued to lay sprawled in the other end of the couch. He'd said nothing to him. Then Methos managed to sit up a bit, trying and failing to look like he had it all together, Richie noticed.

All he did was motion vaguely with one hand toward the side table near him, where the coke he'd been doing earlier still sat. Richie looked to where he was motioning, seeing the table, the table with a mirror, a bill rolled up, and a pile of what he assumed was coke, with a razor blade.

Richie moved towards the mirror, leaning over Methos to get it, body's touching, pressed against each other. The simple touch was enough to make both men pause, the xtc they'd taken made the feel of flesh on flesh was amazing to them.

Continuing to where the mirror he'd been motioned towards Richie picked it up and set it on the table in front of them.

He looked at Methos curiously, Methos sighed, and leaned down picking up the rolled bill, making a few fat rails and one disappeared promptly, then he turned to Richie, offering the rolled bill.

Richie looked at Methos, Duncans rather stuffy friend, efficiently snort a rail of coke so he too took the rolled up bill and another large line disappeared.

It felt so odd, snorting something on xtc. He'd tried xtc before once on the street but he apparently hadn't taken enough of it, because GOD what a great feeling. Mmmm...

Methos had been staring at him he realized. And when he looked back he noticed the other mans pupils were huge, just a sliver of eye color visible. He wondered if he too looked that way.

The next thing Richie noticed was that the other man was suddenly much closer to him, he could feel the tingle at the spots where they touched.

Methos let his hand lightly skim from his shoulder down to his chest and then his hand was under the shirt Richie had put on that morning. The hand was comforting and it rubbed little circles on his sensitive skin. He shivered at the sensation.

Then Methos was right over him, eyes staring at each other as Methos leaned in and pressed his lips to Richies. And it was amazing, Richie thought, opening up his mouth for Methos's tongue.

They both were amazed at the sensuality of the feeling. It ran thru their bodies. They were now roll'n way past favoring any and all conventions. Shirts came off easily, as the imperative to feel each other grew.

They ended up on the plush bed, nude, taking turns massaging each other. Both were simple enjoying feeling, and it was beyond amazing, on the table next to the bed was a bottle of massage oil and a vicks inhaler. Methos laughed and laughed at his host's foresight.

Things had progressed and so now here they both we're, at Joes bar as if nothing had happened with them, between them.

Duncan had killed Byron, and so Methos lost the last of his students.

Just another wedge to drive Duncan and Methos further apart. Once, before the horseman fiasco, they'd been close, closer than close, they were lovers, they were very happy, but the bliss was wrenched away from Duncan. They parted ways in the bedroom area, barely keeping up the pretense of a friendship.

But still, Richie had stepped on his teachers territory.

But it was over and done with.

No use worrying about it now.