I woke up suddenly, the sun shining in my eyes. I knew I wasn’t in my own bed; I’d had to put up heavy drapes to block the all-night neon lights. I had a headache, too, both from too many shooters last night, and from the feeling of another immortal. I didn’t move while I tried to remember what I’d done on New Year’s Eve — and who I’d gone home with.
Joe had closed the bar to the public, and invited a dozen or so each of immortals and watchers. He said he was trying to start a new, friendlier relationship between us and them. Yeah, right. They still give me the creeps. The watchers as a group were uncomfortable, huddling together in the booths along one wall, and most of the immortals had — issues, I guess you could say — with one another.
“Adam,”Joe called as the world’s oldest man entered. “He’s late,” the bartender whispered so only I could hear. “Where’ve you been?”
“I’m here, Joe. Is there a problem?”
“You’ve been a priest, haven't you?”
“Several times,” Methos answered. “I’ve even been a god, too, now that you mention it.” He lifted the beer that appeared in front of him. “Why?”
“Do something to make this holy ground, okay? Otherwise half of these watchers will be writing their closing reports in the morning.”
“Sure thing, Joe. A special New Year’'s present.” He drained the beer and caught my eye. “Hey, Rich, give me a hand.”
I watched Methos mix salt into tap water and say words over it. I didn’t understand any of the language he spoke, but it sounded like a prayer, so I said, “Amen,” when he was finished, then I followed him around the bar carrying the bowl of water. I felt like an altar boy. At every window and doorway he sprinkled some of the water and said more in the same language. When he was done, the bar felt just like holy ground. Every immortal in the place noticed the difference.
“That’s amazing,” I said, catching Methos’s eye. “I didn’t know you could do that.”
“The old ways still have power, Richie,” the old man confided.“ Never doubt that.” His eyes held mine for a long moment. I blushed and looked away, a little uncomfortable under his gaze. I knew I’d never have a chance with him, but those long legs and strong shoulders had interested me from the first time we’d met. I shrugged it off and went back to the bar.
It ended up an okay New Year’s Eve party, I guess. Thanks to Methos — I mean Adam — some of the watchers finally introduced themselves to the immortals. I spent most of the night drinking. There was only one other person even close to my own age, and Michelle Webster didn’t seem at all interested in me. Mac and Amanda were on-again, and with the amount of cleavage Amanda was showing, it’s a wonder any man in the room took his eyes off her. I didn’t know most of the other immortals, so I sat at the bar asking Joe who was who.
“Adam,”Joe called, beckoning the Old Man over.
Adam —I had to keep thinking of him as Adam — slid onto the barstool next to me and exchanged his empty glass for a full one.
“Yeah?” Even in his Adam Pierson mode, I could see Methos under the wide-eyed grad student mask he wore. “What now, Joe?”
“Answer the kid’s questions, will you? I have to talk to some people.” He grabbed his cane and made his way to a knot of older watchers, grabbing Benny Carbassa by the arm on the way.
That was the last thing I remembered clearly, until waking up — where was I anyway?
I could feel another immortal, so I stretched out my leg to check. I was alone in the bed, but the other side was still warm. I rolled onto my back and cringed. There was a sticky wet spot in the center of the bed. I was pretty sure what it was.
“Rise and shine, Tough Guy.”
Methos. Oh, god, I’d spent the night with Methos — and if the condition of the bed was a clue, we’d done a whole lot more than sleep. I didn’t open my eyes right away, but lay there trying to remember. Bit by bit the details cleared in my head, like watching a video on fast forward.
Methos taking me home from Joe’s.
A soft, gentle kiss that lingered, then became hot and passionate.
Looking into those grey-green eyes as he unbuttoned my shirt, unbuckled my belt and made my jeans disappear like magic.
He stripped himself while I watched, and I couldn’t keep my hands off my own cock.
Then he was all over me, his mouth and hands touching and kissing, stroking and sucking while I did the same to him, until we ended up doing a sixty-nine on each other. I’d traded blow jobs before, a couple of times, but nobody had ever made me feel like that. Afterward we kissed, long and slow, and I think we fell asleep in each other’s arms, still kissing.
I know I’d wanted him for a long time, and I guess he’d wanted me, too. There just hadn’t been the right time and place for us, until now.
I rolled back to lie on my back, but didn’t open my eyes yet. I’d never felt better in my life.
The mattress bounced as Methos sat on the edge of the bed. I felt his fingertips on my cheek in a soft, gentle caress. “You’ve had your beauty sleep, kid. Coffee’s hot.”
I opened my eyes just as his lips touched mine. I didn’t think twice when he added his tongue, and I opened my mouth to let him in. His tongue circled my mouth, silky and hot. I tasted coffee, a rich, dark flavor that turned me on even more.
Without taking his mouth away, Methos threw the covers aside. I was hard — way harder than a morning woody, and I could feel my dick bobbing with every breath. He climbed into the bed, his body covering mine. He was hard too, and his cock stood tall, the dark head pushing between the edges of his robe. He rubbed my dick with his own, and I almost came then. My hips bucked up off the bed when we crossed like two swords, but that only trapped both of us.
God he was hot. It was like he’d been lying in the sun all day, but his cock gave off waves of heat that nearly burned my hand. Yeah, my hand. I couldn’t keep my hands off him, the way that stiff pillar rose out of the black curls. For a guy with no hair on his chest, it was awful thick and curly around his cock, and fine, soft hair all over his balls. I pulled on his cock and lifted his balls until he pushed himself away from kissing me and sat back on his heels.
I sat up, not wanting to be so far away from him, but he stopped me with a hand on my chest. He pulled a tube of Astroglide from the pocket of his robe, and stroked it on me. I knew what he had in mind, and our eyes locked.
I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs, even with my chest heaving up and down and my mouth wide open. Every touch of those long fingers on me sent shivers to my fingers and toes. I couldn’t keep watching him and remember to breathe, so I scrunched my eyes shut for a second.
The heat from his body touched me before he slowly lowered himself onto me — around me. He was just loose enough that I slid in without resistance, but inside he was hot and tight as a virgin. His butt touched my hips and he held there, both of us adjusting. I opened my eyes again, just in time to see a smirk ghost across his face.
It was a tiny movement, a circle with his pelvis, but the muscles inside gripped and released and gripped again, over and over, until I shouted with the little bit of breath I could pull in. I think I said his name, probably something about god as well, I can’t remember. He grabbed my right hand and put it on his cock, and he fucked my hand in the same rhythm I fucked him.
He rose up on his knees, pulling off me, and when he lowered himself again, I watched my dick disappear into his ass. I felt myself getting bigger and bigger as he slid on and off me, and I kept pumping him, holding his balls in my other hand. I felt them tighten and rise up just before he came in my hand, the pearly fluid pouring over my fist to pool on my belly.
After that I couldn’t control myself any more. I pushed up into him, my whole body bowing so only my shoulders and heels still touched the bed. I teetered on the edge for an eternity, driving into him at my own pace.
“I’m gonna come; I’m gonna come,” I shouted, and when he squeezed my balls I exploded.
“Adam — Methos.” I still wasn’t sure what to call him.The sun was higher in the sky, but it still streamed in the east-facing window, so I knew it wasn’t noon yet.
“Or Ben, or David,” the old man suggested. He was silent for a moment, his eyes still the clear green they’d become when we made love. “I like it that you know my real name.” He kissed my forehead, and I nuzzled even closer into the hollow of his shoulder. “But it has to be Adam in public.”
I tried to tell him I’d do whatever he wanted, but the words came out as a long hum.
“By the way,” he went on. “Happy New Year.”
“’py New Year,” I mumbled. “I got a New Year’s Revelation.” My mouth was beginning to follow instructions from my brain again, and my words were almost understandable.
"You mean resolution.”
“Unh-unh. Revelation.”
I felt an endless kiss on my forehead, and long fingers stroked my hair. “Oh?” he eventually asked.
“Yeah.” I took a deep breath before I could go on, and another one. I felt like I was unarmed and off holy ground. “I always wondered if I’d ever find someone — someone I could feel like this with — safe — happy — ” He kissed my forehead between each word, and there was a rumble deep in his chest that I took to mean he was happy.
“I found him.”