Conjugation

by Cori Lannam

Methos lay on his back, naked and gasping.

Duncan MacLeod, raising his head from between the other's legs, gave a satisfied little smile as he watched his lover try to breath. "I take it you liked that, hm?" He dipped his head again to softly kiss the place where his mouth had just spent the better part of an hour.

Methos struggled to sit up, then collapsed back against the pillows. "Oh. Just a little," he answered shakily, his attempt at nonchalance completely unconvincing.

"Oh really, just a little? Duncan asked sardonically as he pushed himself to his knees, giving the skin at Methos' hip a little pinch. "It felt like more than 'just a little' to me."

Methos stretched his arms and legs, arching his back with a happy sigh. Without warning he rocked himself into a sitting position, grabbed Duncan by the shoulders and kissed him hard. He lingered just long enough to feel his lover's mouth open to his, then pulled away and jumped off the bed. Ignoring MacLeod's indignant noise of protest he headed into the bathroom. Mac glared after him until he heard the shower start to run, then swung off the bed and followed.

It was nearly an hour before they emerged, shivering and dripping. Lately it seemed like the loft's hot water just didn't last as long as it used to. They pulled on clothing, Methos scurrying into his usual long-sleeved shirt and jeans, while MacLeod opted for sweats. Then Methos settled onto the couch, eagerly retrieving the stack of books he had purchased the day before at that marvelous bookshop Mac had found. His fingers stroked lightly over the finely tooled leather as a wistful smile prodded at his lips. He had long believed that nothing could bring him more pleasure than the feel of a book: the weight in his hand, the smoothness of the binding, the pleasant musty scent and the whisper of turning pages. But Duncan MacLeod, with the softness of his skin and the sweetness of his mouth... him Methos preferred above all.

Yet despite his present joy in love, his mind still required as much stimulation as his body. He selected one thick volume, setting the others aside and smiling as Duncan settled in beside him, drawing Methos into his arms. Leaning into Duncan, Methos savored the pleasure of being held even as he lost himself in a story millennia old. His lover's breath was warm against his cheek, soothing and even.

Until the snores began.

Annoyed, Methos twisted his head to see the Highlander sleeping soundly against his shoulder. He tried to return to his book, but his concentration was completely disrupted by the continued buzzsaw noises his friend was emitting. His irritation increased until finally he jabbed his elbow hard into Duncan's side. "Wake up, for God's sake. You sound like a rusty lawnmower."

Mac sputtered slightly as he woke, his arms tightening involuntarily around his lover's waist. "Sorry," he muttered. "I was getting bored."

Methos turned around to face him, ending up half in his lap, one leg draped over his thighs. "You were bored?" he exclaimed indignantly. "Bored? By one of the greatest stories of passion and adventure in all of history? Brotherhood and honor, love and revenge! How could you possibly be bored?"

"It's in Greek," Mac pointed out gently.

He blinked. The rest of his tirade died away unspoken as he glanced down at the pages open in front of him. "Oh. So it is," he admitted sheepishly.

Duncan smiled and began lightly kissing along the side of his face. "I was planning to learn Greek, actually," he commented between kisses. "I even bought a book on it the other day. But you keep distracting me from my studies."

Methos wrinkled his nose at him, seemingly forgetting his diatribe on Mac's lack of classical education only moments before. "You want to learn Greek? Whatever for?"

Nuzzling into the tender skin between neck and shoulder, Duncan murmured, "So I can read the great works of ancient literature, of course." Methos gave a short laugh of disbelief and MacLeod relented, lifting his head enough to kiss Methos' ear as he spoke. "I thought it would be nice to know a language you used to speak. You read so much in Greek and you obviously spent a lot of time there.... I wanted to be able to share in that with you."

Silence fell and Duncan rested his forehead on his lover's shoulder as Methos digested his words. The past had driven a wedge between them on more than one occasion. It touched him deeply that Mac would make the effort to try and learn about his past, to understand the man he had been, the good along with the bad.

Gently he turned, rubbing his cheek against the silky hair on the crown of Duncan's head. They sat like that for a short time, Duncan's arms looped loosely around Methos' waist, until Methos grew restless and pulled away. "Okay, I think it's a great idea for you to learn Greek. We'll start our lessons right now."

His friend watched with amusement as Methos rummaged through Mac's books. It was a respectable pile, although considerably smaller than what Methos himself had managed to accumulate. At last, after numerous snide comments about the younger man's choice of reading material, Methos found the beginning Greek grammar book MacLeod had purchased a few days before. He returned to his place on the sofa, opening the hardcover book and skimming the first few chapters rapidly. "What have you learned so far?"

"Just the noun forms," Mac answered, showing his new instructor the page he had left off on. "I can decline your name now."

Methos chuckled in response. "Good, because that will be on the test. Now, let's do verb forms. We'll start easy, with the present tense."

"All right," Duncan agreed, settling back and folding his arms across his chest.

"Good. How about the verb 'to educate?' Repeat after me: paideuo, paideueis, padeuei, paideuomen, paideuete, paideuousi." Dutifully MacLeod repeated the words and Methos smiled in satisfaction. "Excellent. I always knew you were bright. Now try it without the book."

Duncan winced as Methos snapped the book shut and tried again. "Paideuo, paideuete...."

"No, no," Methos interrupted. "Think about it."

But the more Duncan tried, the worse he got, until he was pronouncing verb forms never heard in any language, ancient or modern. Methos kept correcting him until he was ready to scream with frustration. "Mac, I can't believe you're this bad. You just can't be this bad." MacLeod looked at him sheepishly and Methos narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You're doing this deliberately, aren't you? Just to aggravate me."

Mac coughed and Methos hit him on the side of the head with the heavy book before reluctantly laughing. "Ah, Duncan MacDense." His lover pretended to take offense, but Methos ignored him, setting the book on the coffee table and swinging himself around to straddle Duncan's legs. "Maybe I can keep your attention this way. Now, let's try again."

MacLeod rested his hands on Methos' hips and caressed him enticingly. "Can't we do this later?"

"No, we cannot," Methos replied firmly, taking Duncan's hands and pushing them aside. "I will not allow you to remain ignorant. It would be an unforgivable sin."

"I know some other sins we could try instead," Mac suggested with a mild leer, stroking the slender thighs that straddled his own.

Methos could not keep a smile from quirking at his lips, but determinedly did not give in to Duncan's seduction. "Verbs, Duncan, keep your mind on the verbs. Conjugation isn't that hard. Let's try a new one." A wicked grin spread over his face and he lay his hands on his lover's shoulders. "I know one you'd be good at. How about... luo."

"What does that mean?" Duncan asked, hands still moving over the other's legs.

"To release," Methos replied, meeting his eyes with a direct look.

A slow smile widened Duncan's mouth. "And did that mean the same thing to the Greeks as it does now?" His voice was husky as he leaned in to kiss Methos' lips.

The kiss was sweet for all its short duration, but Methos soon pulled back out of his reach. "I don't know what you mean, MacLeod," he answered with exaggerated innocence. "It's just a verb. Now conjugate with me. Luo... I release."

The angelic expression gave lie to the motion of Methos' hips, which surged forward against Mac's groin in a gentle rhythm calculated to arouse. "Luo...," Mac managed to echo in as steady a tone as he could keep under the circumstances.

"Very good," Methos whispered, leaning forward to give his lover a congratulatory kiss on the temple. "Try another. Lueis... you release." As he spoke his fingers were moving between Duncan's legs, lightly rubbing the growing bulge there.

He was not surprised that Mac barely managed to get the word out around the shuddering gasp that was seizing him. Mac was rock hard beneath his fingertips, and Methos kept massaging him, feeling his own erection straining against his jeans. "See, this isn't that hard," he said with deliberate double entendre. He leaned forward to kiss Mac again, this time letting his mouth linger on the full lips as he continued. "Why don't we try the future tense? Luseis... you will release." He was rubbing Mac hard as he leaned back again, and his lover let his head loll back against the couch, heavy-lidded eyes half closed.

Methos smiled. He loved to see him like this, drunk with desire, quivering with longing for his touch. Mac was far beyond any comprehension of Greek grammar, and even his motor skills were barely sufficient to fumble for Methos' belt. But he managed quite well, undoing the buckle and the button, dragging the zipper down and reaching inside for his cock. Methos moaned softly as Duncan began stroking the swollen flesh, his grip tight and warm around him.

Leaning forward, he slid his tongue in between MacLeod's lips, opening his mouth for a deep kiss. He broke it off before either of them was anywhere near satisfied, struggling to retain his composure against the intense pleasure building in his loins. "We're not done yet," he breathed. "Lusomen... we will release."

"We?" Mac whispered hoarsely, taking Methos' hand and pressing it firmly against his cloth-enclosed erection. Methos didn't need a second hint, pulling the waistband of Mac's sweats down around his hips far enough to release the eager cock into his waiting hand.

He played teasingly with the head, causing Mac to break the rhythm of his stroking on Methos for an instant as he sucked air in through gritted teeth. Then he wrapped his hand firmly around the heated organ, imitating the pace his lover had set on his own flesh. They were silent for a short time, breathing in short gasps and enjoying the pleasure they were bringing each other. "One more lesson," Methos grated out at last, fighting the insistent rhythm driving him ever closer to his climax. "You should learn to use the verb in a sentence."

"You can't be serious...," MacLeod whimpered, lifting his head enough to shoot a hazy look of disbelief at his partner.

Methos nodded shakily, refusing to surrender completely to the sensations until they had finished their game. "It's a simple one. Hoi anthropoi lusousi... the men will release." He had barely gotten the words out before Mac grasped him by the back of the neck and dragged his mouth back down against his own, silencing any further attempts at pedantry.

The edge was too close, the pressure too great for delay. Even as Methos gave a final squeeze to the hardness in his hand, he was coming with an intensity that ripped a groan of ecstasy from deep in his throat. He fell down onto Mac's chest, feeling the last of his lover's orgasm pulse through his fingers. They let go of each other's softening flesh only to wrap their arms around one another tightly as they caught their breaths.

"That's quite a teaching method you have there," Mac commented at last, chuckling softly as he slid his hand down Methos' back and into his loosened jeans.

Methos sighed happily and pressed back into the caress. "Yes, I think it could revolutionize the modern school system. Think I should submit a proposal to the Department of Education?"

"Nah, I don't think so," Mac replied, licking softly at his neck as he began to massage the firm buttocks beneath his hand. "I don't think I want to share your tutoring services."

Methos was disinclined to argue with that, so he let the discussion fade, even as MacLeod stretched out full length on the couch, drawing his lover down on top of him. He still had more than enough teaching to do right here.

END