ext_7247 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
lilian413.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crack_van2005-09-03 04:56 pm
lilian413.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2005-09-03 04:56 pm
Entry tags:
I, Alone by C.L. Finn (NC-17)
Fandom: HIGHLANDER
Pairing: Duncan/Methos
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
trixiesfic
Author Website: Author's Homepage
Why this must be read:
Why? Duncan in his tartan. Duncan in his tartan on his knees. Again with the horny Methos. Do you need more?
He quickly and efficiently toes out of his shoes, strips off his t-shirt and linen pants and only hesitates a moment before the briefs follow. Picking up the plaid wool, he shakes it out and folds it, wrapping it around and over his body as if it were only yesterday that he did it last. The leather and brass breast plate follows and I can't help but chuckle when he has to take a deep breath to jerk the buckles tight into place.
...[]...
When he's done, he steps forward, turns around once with his arms out to the sides and then bows before me with a flourish and a cheeky grin.
"Duncan MacLeod a' tha Clan MacLeod, at yer service, ma laird," he says in a deep Highland peasant burr.
God... is that what he used to sound like? What the hell was I doing four hundred years ago that was so important that I missed out on this? A good question to ponder for another time. Right now, another part of my anatomy is demanding attention.
I, Alone
Pairing: Duncan/Methos
Author on LJ:
trixiesficAuthor Website: Author's Homepage
Why this must be read:
Why? Duncan in his tartan. Duncan in his tartan on his knees. Again with the horny Methos. Do you need more?
He quickly and efficiently toes out of his shoes, strips off his t-shirt and linen pants and only hesitates a moment before the briefs follow. Picking up the plaid wool, he shakes it out and folds it, wrapping it around and over his body as if it were only yesterday that he did it last. The leather and brass breast plate follows and I can't help but chuckle when he has to take a deep breath to jerk the buckles tight into place.
...[]...
When he's done, he steps forward, turns around once with his arms out to the sides and then bows before me with a flourish and a cheeky grin.
"Duncan MacLeod a' tha Clan MacLeod, at yer service, ma laird," he says in a deep Highland peasant burr.
God... is that what he used to sound like? What the hell was I doing four hundred years ago that was so important that I missed out on this? A good question to ponder for another time. Right now, another part of my anatomy is demanding attention.
I, Alone