While this is nothing on the scale of Moonchild, it has nevertheless been a long time coming. So if no one minds, I’m going to do another little happy dance that this story is finally done. Remember waaaay back this summer when people that had posted for the first time got to request a reward PWP? Well, Caitlin asked me to do hers (shaking head at self). In my own defense, I came up with two ideas — one that would have been an honest to god PWP, and the idea for RA. I gave Caitlin the option, and warned her that this was going to be much longer. Of course, I had no idea it would take 6 months! So, Caitlin’s request to have the boyz on a motorcycle turned into a not-very-PWP that has in fact spawned an entire AU. Let’s get the detail stuff out of the way first, and then I can explain the AU. This story contains explicit m/m sex. I you don’t like it, or you’re underage, then delete this now. The characters don’t belong to me, although they have contacted a lawyer about adopting me. Archive anywhere you like, just let me know. The biggest thank-you imaginable to Emma for going above and beyond the call yet again. Six months of hand holding and ego stroking are more than I have any right to expect, but I sincerely appreciate your generous gift of time and concern. Thank you also to all of the people that read the work in progress and always asked for more. (Guess I deserved a taste of my own medicine! The muses and I couldn’t have finished this without each and every one of you. Okay, now for the AU (deep breath). It will probably not surprise anyone on this list that I got the idea for his story from a song. It’s called Faster, Faster by Bree Sharp. I’ll paste the lyrics in at the end. You should read them — they’re very cool and they give you an idea of the mood of the story. At this point, all of the major characters in the series exist, but have not met each other. Richie has never met Duncan, grew up in Portland and not Seacouver, did not die his first death outside of that house with Tessa, because he never met her. He had a completely different teacher. A lot of this AU is about what Richie would have been like if he hadn’t met MacLeod. Duncan will probably show his face later, but he has nothing whatever to do with the lives of Richie and Methos in the past or the present in this story. The other important aspect of this AU is that Methos is not a Watcher now. If he ever has been, it’s been centuries since then. The current incarnation of Adam Pierson is a medical doctor — a med school professor, in fact, on his way to accept a position at the University of Texas at Galveston. He’s dropped some hints at what exactly he’s been up to, but he’s playing it pretty close to the vest. For the purposes of this story, I’ve decided to let him keep his little secrets for now. We’ll get to those later. Other than that, the timeline is very similar to that of the series. Richie is the same age as he is in the series, and so is Methos. This is July 1997, and the story starts out in Phoenix, AZ. Enjoy! Please, please, let me know what you think. Direct feedback to n.memmott@gte.net

D espite the straight-lined monotony of the desert highway, Richie kept his eyes fixed on the view in front of him. There was nothing worth looking at on either side of him, only the occasional car headed the opposite direction. And he never, ever looked back. There was no need. Experience had taught him that the only thing behind him was his past, and even now Richie could feel its breath hot on the back of his neck.

He wasn’t running, exactly — more like making a timely exit. He had arranged to meet Cindy, a casual, but regular, date, at her apartment. Upon arriving, however, he had found police officers hauling Cindy and a large stash of drugs downtown. Although she’d been pretty high the last few times he’d been at her place, Richie had ignored Cindy’s increasing drug use. She wasn’t great in bed even when she was sober, so it hadn’t made much difference to him. But drugs clearly mattered to the Phoenix P.D.

Officers had begun questioning all of the tenement’s residents, and Richie had known that one of the locals would point him out. Getting recognized meant having to answer questions about Cindy and about the drugs. All that Richie knew about Cindy was that her real name was Mildred and that she was a screamer. As for the drugs, Richie had made certain he knew absolutely nothing about them. Not that the cops would believe his ignorance. They never did. Better to avoid the questions altogether than get caught up in the mess.

Richie had ridden away from the flashing lights and inner city grime, had ridden straight out of Phoenix. He hadn’t even bothered to return to his studio apartment. Nothing he had collected in the three months he’d been in Phoenix was worth the risk of being trapped by information-hungry police officers.

At least this time his expected rendezvous with Cindy meant he had a change of clothes and some toiletries for the road. And since Cindy hadn’t been given the opportunity to take the cash from his wallet, he had some money, too. He’d started over with much less. If he couldn’t charm some bleeding heart into lending him a few bucks for food and gas along the way, he could always steal it. If things got really tight, he could get a job. Even the smallest towns usually needed someone to fix their cars, their tractors, or their bicycles, and Richie could fix them all. Sometimes he thought he might like to find a town and stay there, maybe own his own shop. But in the end the thought of planting some roots always made him feel claustrophobic. He just wasn’t the hometown type.

The presence of another immortal stunned Richie out of his thoughts. He could just barely make out a vehicle, most likely an SUV, on the side of the road up ahead. As he watched, a slender figure stepped out from under the raised hood, shielding his eyes with one hand, straining to see the approaching threat.

Richie had only a few seconds to decide whether to stop or ride on. He wasn’t in the mood for a fight, wasn’t looking for the complications taking a quickening always brought, but he was reluctant to leave a potential enemy behind him. Better the confrontation end here, in the middle of nowhere, than in front of the yokels from some one-stoplight desert town. Cursing at the interruption in his journey, Richie slowed his bike and pulled over next to the steaming SUV.

Taking off his helmet but keeping his seat, Richie faced the unknown immortal and waited. When the other man just shifted his hands to his pockets and made no move towards the sword propped up against the vehicle, Richie unbent enough to offer his name. “I’m Richie Ryan.”

“Adam Pierson.”

Another pause lengthened, and Richie began to wonder if Pierson was playing some kind of game. Finally he asked, “Car trouble?”

“Obviously.”

The sarcastic tone rubbed rawly on Richie’s already frayed nerves, but his voice was nearly level when he pressed, “What’s the problem?”

An eyebrow arched as the reply came back, “Well, the steam would seem to be . .”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Richie cut him off. “You don’t have a fucking clue, do you?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Well, you are stuck here on the side of the road.”

“Touché,” Adam acknowledged with the briefest of nods and the possibility of a smile peeking at the corners of his mouth.

Gritting his teeth against the irritation that people who expected their cars to run without basic maintenance always brought out in him, Richie settled his bike on its kickstand and went to examine what he could now see was a fairly new Dodge Durango. The steam had stopped at last, but the engine was still too hot to touch bare handed. Unfortunately, the last time he had seen the greasy rag he normally used during bike repairs it had been sitting in the laundry basket at his apartment, and the Durango didn’t have so much as a paper towel he could use to protect his hands.

Sighing resignedly, Richie walked back to his bike, tossed his jacket across the seat, and pulled his t-shirt over his head. Turning it inside out as though it was going to get less dirty that way, Richie used the t-shirt to pull out the dipstick and check the oil. Barely a sliver of black liquid moistened the end of the metal rod. A strange sort of growl rumbled in Richie’s chest, but he replaced the dipstick without comment.

Very carefully, a fraction of a turn at a time, Richie began to twist off the radiator cap. When all he found inside were bubbles and rust, a vein in his temple began to throb. He tightened the cap once more and turned to where the coolant was supposed to be. This, at least, was all of one quarter full. The air filter, he discovered, was black.

As soon as the air filter had been secured, the pressure building inside Richie finally exploded. “Are you insane?” he raged, shaking the now grease-streaked shirt in his fist. “You drove into the desert without changing your oil? With no water in your radiator? Right now I can’t decide if you’re a complete moron or just the laziest person I’ve ever met.”

“Your call,” the other immortal shrugged. “But I did remember to fill the cleaning solution for the wiper blades.”

“Well thank God for that!” Richie began to twist the t-shirt with both hands to keep himself from reaching for Pierson’s throat. He released some of his tension by snapping the bedraggled cotton against the side of the SUV, then asked tightly, “I don’t suppose you have a couple quarts of oil in the back of this fancy rig somewhere?”

“Nope.”

“Of course not. What about water?”

“I do have some water, actually.”

“I can’t believe it.”

Adam rifled through the contents of the back seat and emerged with a one liter bottle of Crystal Geyser. “Here,” he called, tossing his find to Richie.

Richie nearly groaned as he made the catch. One bottle of designer water wasn’t even going to come close to filling the radiator. On the other hand, there was no sense letting it go to waste. Unscrewing the cap, he tilted his head back and allowed some of the liquid to slide down his throat and cool him from the inside. Wiping his mouth with the back of his free hand, Richie raised the bottle over his head and let the remaining water splash over his face and onto his shoulders. Shaking the excess moisture from his hair, Richie threw the empty container back to Adam. “Thanks.”

Adam caught the missile automatically, but his eyes remained on Richie, tracking rivulets of water as they traversed the terrain of Richie’s chest and disappeared beneath Richie’s jeans. When Richie turned, breaking the spell, Adam was surprised to recognize the twinges of arousal affecting his body. What a time for his nearly forgotten libido to resurface. Oh, gods, he’d been staring at the boy’s chest. Fortunately Richie hadn’t seemed to notice, and the moment had passed.

From the corner of his eye Adam noticed that Richie was once again wearing his t-shirt and jacket and had resumed his seat on the motorcycle. He arched an inquiring brow at the other immortal.

Richie sighed impatiently, “Do you want help or not?”

“Yes,” Adam admitted.

“Then hop on,” Richie ordered. “We have to get some fluids in that Durango or you’re not going anywhere.”

Adam was skeptical that there was room for both of them on the bike that barely seemed big enough for Richie alone, but there was no other choice. He threw his right leg over the motorcycle and tried to sit back, only to find there was no way to avoid contact. He was so close to Richie that he could feel the other man’s body shake with laughter.

“Just hold on,” Richie said between chuckles. “And keep your mouth closed. I don’t have another helmet.”

Reluctantly Adam wrapped his arms around the warm body in front of him. As soon as the motorcycle sped onto the road, however, the need for balance forced him to tighten his grip. His mind was curiously blank as they rode, free of the constant analysis and introspection that was so much a part of his nature. For once he was content with the wind in his face and the thrill of racing along the highway. If he also felt small tendrils of pleasure curling inside him at the proximity of the immortal in front of him, Adam supposed he could be forgiven for that. It had been a long time since anyone’s nearness had brought him pleasure.

While Adam’s mind was empty, Richie’s was brimming with activity. Why he was helping a total stranger, and an immortal one at that, he wasn’t entirely sure, but the situation did present some interesting opportunities. Pierson might be an idiot about cars, but he clearly had enough money that he could afford to be. Everything about the SUV and the gear Richie had glimpsed inside was first class. Not brand new, perhaps, but still top of the line. If he played his cards right, or if his fingers were quick enough, he could probably walk away with a sizeable stake with which to start his new life.

The other significant aspect of this current adventure was the subtle vibe of attraction he was getting from Pierson. Richie had no illusions about his looks — he had been propositioned by women and men of all ages since he was thirteen — and he had long ago learned to view his body as simply a tool with which to achieve his own ends. Seducing Pierson, or rather letting Pierson believe that he was doing the seducing, would be amusing and profitable, even if it did require the intimacy of sex.

If it came to sex... Richie laughed at the thought. If the man’s response to his bare chest was any indication, sex would definitely be on the agenda. Richie wondered idly if Pierson was as reserved in bed as he was out of it. Probably. At least that meant they could get through the business without all of the toys his previous male partners had favored. Richie could not control the tremor that shook him before he banished his memories to the recesses of his mind once more.

No sooner had the tremor passed than Richie felt Adam offer a gentle squeeze in response. He’d forgotten that Pierson was in a position to notice the slightest movement of his body. At least there was no way his riding partner could know exactly what had caused the shaking he’d tried to ease.

Richie felt his lips stretching into an honest smile. Pierson had tried to comfort him. Thinking back, Richie couldn’t remember the last time someone had reached out to him that way. As a child he’d been the one that adults loved to cuddle, but people found it difficult to feel warm and fuzzy about the tough, rough-around-the-edges man that he’d become.

What Richie found the most surprising, though, was that Pierson had recognized that the brief trembling had been a result of more than just a chill. Only experience could bring that kind of knowledge. Good to know there are ghosts in someone else’s closets, too, Richie thought.

After nearly half an hour of riding, they at last spotted a dilapidated gas station with a garage. An open sign was barely visible through the grime on the office window, and the garage door was open, but there was no sign of an attendant.

Richie brought the motorcycle to a halt outside the workshop. From the glaring light of the desert afternoon the garage seemed to be in total darkness. Dismounting from the bike, Richie approached the open doorway in search of someone who could help them. As his eyes grew accustomed to the low light, he let out a low whistle.

Adam, a little uncomfortable from his unaccustomed seat on the motorcycle, followed slowly. He was greeted by the same sight he assumed Richie was already appreciating, faded jeans stretched taut over a shapely feminine bottom while the top bent underneath the hood of an old car. He was a bit confused to hear his good Samaritan ask the girl, “Is that a ’65?”

The whistle was for the car? Adam wondered incredulously. This kid might need more help than I thought.

The girl, who had ignored Richie’s whistle, slowly withdrew from the bowels of the car to answer Richie’s question. “It’s a ’66, actually.” Her eyes cast a considering glance from Richie’s strawberry curls to his scuffed hiking boots, returning to linger on his grease-stained t-shirt. “You’ve got a good eye,” she admitted.

Richie returned the mechanic’s visual inspection and grinned. “I have a thing for Mustangs. This is a V8, right?”

“Yes. An automatic, unfortunately.”

Adam looked on in wonder as Richie and the still nameless girl examined the car. For the first time since their meeting, Adam thought that Richie’s facial expression and body language seemed suited to his eternally youthful appearance.

“This is the original top?”

“Yes. We’ve been very lucky to keep it in such good condition.”

“No kidding. This whole car’s in great shape, actually.” Richie’s attention was caught by a large box hanging under the instrument panel. “What’s that? Looks like a VCR.” Before the girl could answer, Richie made the connection. “It’s an 8-track! You have the original 8-track in here, too?”

Here we go again, Adam groaned inwardly as the two began to compare the relative merits of 8-tracks and LPs to compact discs. I’m glad the guppy’s made a friend, but this is getting ridiculous.

Ridiculous, but illuminating, Adam admitted privately. Whatever had caused Richie to arm himself with an outer shell every bit as tough and sharp as the sword he carried, the barriers were down now. Richie was animated, enthusiastic — and charming. Damned irresistible, in fact. The girl had gone from frosty disdain, to careful neutrality, to warm and friendly under Richie’s continued interest and attention.

Feeling Adam’s eyes on her, the girl acknowledged him with a nod. When Adam offered a small smile and a nod in return, she found herself caught in his gaze for a long moment. Her lips threatening to stretch into an answering grin, she shifted her gaze back to Richie and asked, “So, what brings you guys to my humble garage?”

“Adam, here,” Richie replied, pointing at the immortal leaning comfortably in the doorway, “has a Durango that’s just about bone dry. Oil, water, coolant — you name it, we need it. We could use an air filter, too, if you have one that would fit.”

Shocked eyes flew to Adam. “You didn’t change your oil before you headed for the desert? You didn’t check your water? Are you insane?”

“That seems to be the consensus,” Adam replied dryly. Richie must have told her to say that, he thought. The brat. In spite of his irritation, however, he felt like laughing.

The girl continued, “I’m sure I have what you need here. You’re lucky, though. The next town’s thirty miles away.”

The thought of another thirty miles on the back of the motorcycle made every muscle in Adam’s body tense in protest. Well, Adam acknowledged to himself, not entirely in protest. Some parts of him were actually enjoying the prospect, and remained quite happily stiff despite strict orders to relax.

Calm down, he scolded his stubborn flesh, It’s not as though you haven’t been snuggled up to a perfectly formed ass before. Besides, you would get every bit as sore as the rest of me if we’d been on the bike that long. Daring to cast a quick downward glance to make sure everything was following orders at last, Adam nearly swore aloud when his gaze caught Richie’s on the way back up. Oh, wonderful. Just bloody marvelous. Their eyes met only for a moment, and Adam nearly missed the speculative gleam in the blue orbs, the triumphant smirk on Richie’s face.

So, the infant wants to play. Challenge flashed and was concealed by bashfully lowered eyelids, the excitement flushing his cheeks masqueraded as an embarrassed blush, but his twitching lips forced Adam to turn away before they spoiled the image he was creating. This should be interesting.

Richie felt something inside him give a satisfied click at the tangible evidence that his radar was correct about Adam’s attraction to him. Gotcha. This was going to go even better than he’d expected. And Adam was blushing. How sweet. Rather than embarrass the other man any further, Richie turned his attention back to the mechanic. “Another thirty miles, you said? That would have been a little tough on Adam.” Richie’s eyes were on the girl, but his grin was for Adam when he added, “He’s not used to riding that long.” From the corner of his eye Richie saw Adam’s eyebrow arch in response, and the girl in front of him was gifted with the full force of his smile. “I’m glad you can help us out.”

“No problem. A Durango, you said?” Stretching to reach the top shelf of a nearby cabinet, she continued, “I have some 10W40 right here.”

“Let me get that for you,” Richie encouraged, moving close and reaching above her to take down three quarts of oil.

Cocking her head to the side, the mechanic met Richie’s gaze, her own expression full of knowing amusement. When Richie’s eyes widened innocently, she gazed pointedly at the well-muscled shoulder so close to her own. Richie grinned, but made no move to step back. Rolling her eyes, the girl took a firm step away from Richie before saying, “Thanks.”

Watching the play between them, Adam was caught off guard at the unfamiliar stretching sensation when a full fledged smile took shape on his lips. Oh, that was subtle, Brat, he thought, perilously close to laughter. My turn now.

Before he had time to fully organize a strategy, the mechanic turned towards him, surprising the smile still on his face. His eyes twinkled his shared knowledge of Richie’s ploy into hers, and she answered with a grin of her own. Conscious of the effect his British accent seemed to have on American women, he offered, “Let me take those for you... I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”

Ignoring the ridiculous little thrill running down her spine as Adam spoke, the girl concentrated on the question. “I’m Kate. Kate Donovan.”

“Adam Pierson,” the immortal offered in return, shuffling bottles of oil so he could take her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Kate.” He held onto her hand perhaps a second or two longer than was necessary, but not long enough to discomfit her. When he finally did release her hand, he held out one of the bottles of oil to read the label. “10W40? Sounds like some sort of disease.”

“It’s your car that gets sick if you don’t keep that stuff in it.”

“I’ve learned that lesson all too well.”

“Good,” Kate replied. “This,” she continued, taking a large bottle labeled Prestone off a nearby rack, “is coolant. Your car doesn’t have this, it overheats.”

“Coolant. Right,” Adam nodded as he grabbed hold of the bottle.

Warming to her subject, Kate continued to tour the room, grabbing bottles and boxes off of shelves as she went.

“This is an air filter. You need to check it. When it’s dirty you need to change it.

“This is water. Your radiator needs it. Without it, your car overheats.”

By the time she had finished, Adam’s arms were piled so high with the supplies for his car that his face was almost entirely concealed from view. He tried to turn to the side so he could actually see Kate, but the slight motion sent him crashing into a large object of some kind. It was only after his burden had tumbled to the floor that Adam was able to see that it wasn’t a mountain he had run into, but a man.

“Am I interrupting something?” the mountain asked.

At the sound of the voice, Kate spun around, her face alight. “Mack!”

“Mack?” Richie and Adam asked simultaneously.

Adam was surprised to hear the same tension in Richie’s voice that had inexplicably flooded his own body, but a closer look at the besotted expression on the mountain’s face had him relaxing.

Richie’s nerves took longer to settle, but when Adam sighed and the lines between his eyebrows smoothed out, Richie allowed his fists to unclench and moved his hands carefully away from the sword hidden in his coat. He watched as Mack picked Kate up under the shoulders and spun her around. The passionate kiss the two shared had him feeling a little silly. Definitely friend, not foe. Not that friendship was any guarantee against a threat, but the only danger here was that the two would start taking off clothes before he and Adam could leave. He cleared his throat, and Kate and Mack finally stopped kissing.

Still holding Mack’s hand and beaming, Kate made the formal introductions. “This is my boyfriend, Mack. Mack, this is...” She stopped, then asked Richie, “What is your name, anyway?”

“Richie. Richie Ryan.”

“Mack, this is Richie, and his friend Adam.”

“Nice to meet you guys,” Mack replied amicably, shaking their hands in turn.

The urge to correct Kate’s assumption that he and Adam were friends rather than virtual strangers was strong, but Richie resisted it, contenting himself with a sidelong glance to see how Adam had reacted. His restraint paid off when Adam’s mouth opened and closed, but his handshake with Mack proceeded in silence. Apparently Adam wasn’t going to say anything, either. Somehow Richie wasn’t surprised.

His arm still wrapped around Kate, Mack glanced curiously from the motorcycle outside to Richie and Adam. “Where are you guys headed?”

“No place in particular,” Richie answered easily before Adam could say anything. “We have to get Adam’s Durango back on the road, though.”

“Oh, so that’s what the tower of supplies was for.”

“Yeah,” Richie laughed, cutting Adam off once more. “My buddy here isn’t that great with cars.”

“No?” asked Mack, grinning at Adam. “That’s all right. Without Kate’s T-L-C, I’d have had to give up on my truck over there a long time ago. I don’t have the patience for it. So, she keeps my truck running, and I do the yard work.”

“Yard work?” Adam replied with a good imitation of a horrified shudder. “I don’t know a rototiller from a garden hose.” He angled his head to smile into the suddenly wary blue eyes across the garage from him. “Richie’s had to make do with my ...other talents.”

The warm intimacy of Adam’s gaze caught Richie by surprise. It was an act, of course, but an effective one. Richie would almost have believed it himself, if he hadn’t known better. Almost, but just ...there ...was a spark of arrogant humor. For one instant, just a heartbeat and then it was gone, Richie imagined he saw in Adam’s eyes a kaleidoscope of knowledge and emotions where he had previously seen a smooth surface broken only by the occasional spark of desire.

Kate’s laughter scattered the flashes of insight hovering at the edges of Richie’s consciousness. “Other talents, hmm? And what might those be?” she asked.

“You guys don’t want to know,” Richie joked before Adam could answer, his eyes promising retribution if Adam said anything else about his ‘talents.’ Satisfied that his nonverbal message had been received, Richie turned to Kate and Mack. “We have to get going.”

“Oh, sure,” Kate replied agreeably. “You need to get that Durango taken care of before it gets dark.” Disentangling herself from Mack’s embrace, she moved to an ancient cash register. “Let’s ring this stuff up, and you guys can get out of here.”

Mack helped Adam and pick up the supplies and carry them to the register. Frowning a little, he considered the pile on the counter and the motorcycle in the parking lot. “You weren’t going to take all that back on the bike, were you?”

Both immortals froze. Then, with a deep sigh, Richie brought a hand to massage the suddenly tight muscles at the back of his neck. Mack was right. There was no room for him, Adam, and the supplies on the back of the motorcycle.

The thought of having to ride even closer to Richie in order to make room for the supplies made Adam’s breathing hitch and stop. Only the desperate need for oxygen and Mack’s next words allowed his breathing to resume.

“Why don’t I give Adam a ride back to his car with the supplies?”

“Thanks, Mack,” Adam hastened to agree before Richie could respond. “I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Richie echoed, wondering why his first instinct had been to refuse Mack’s offer of help. “That will really help us out,” he continued, as much to reassure himself as to extend his appreciation to Mack.

Adam produced a credit card and paid for the supplies, then Mack and Kate loaded them into Mack’s pickup. Adam shook Kate’s hand, then pressed a light kiss to the back of it and thanked her again before climbing into the cab of the truck beside Mack.

Kate smiled to herself as she observed Richie watching Adam until the truck door had closed. When he didn’t show any signs of heading towards his motorcycle, she prompted gently, “You’d better go. They’re waiting for you.”

“Right.” Richie turned to smile at her. “Thanks, Kate.”

“No problem. Just don’t let Mack try and help, okay? He’s as hopeless as Adam.”

“I’ll send him right home, I promise.”

“Good. Have a nice trip, Richie.”

Richie nodded, picked up his helmet and put it on, then raced out of the driveway after the pickup.

Richie arrived at the Durango in time to wave goodbye to Mack. Richie watched curiously as Adam paced in front of the SUV, muttering under his breath about stubborn mountains. Not even the buzz as Richie came into range distracted him from his ranting.

Turning off the bike and dismounting, Richie approached the obviously frustrated immortal and asked, “Something wrong?”

Adam stopped mid-stride and turned to face the young immortal. “Nothing a good hammer wouldn’t fix,” he spat in response.

“Whoa,” Richie chuckled, holding his hands up and taking a step back. “I guess I missed something. Care to fill me in?”

Adam started talking, but the only words Richie could make out were “Mack,” “money,” and “choir boy.” Frowning in concentration he guessed, “You... tried to give Mack money? And he wouldn’t take it?”

“Bloody idiot.”

Richie laughed, “I agree. But it’s hard to argue with a guy that big.”

“Only because his brain’s so small!”

“Come on, Adam. You can’t really be surprised. Mack has ‘knight-in-shining-armor’ written all over him.” Richie paused, then asked, “What’s the big deal, anyway?”

“You stopped for me because you didn’t want to leave a potential threat behind you,” Adam pointed out. “I feel the same way about debts. If you don’t pay them, they have a way of coming back to haunt you. And I owe Mack.”

Unease warred with excitement as Richie realized Adam’s perceptiveness had caught him by surprise a second time. His eyes measured the other immortal for a moment before he nodded once in agreement. After another pause Richie blinked, and the strange tension broke. He shrugged, “You’ll think of something,” and walked over to the pile of supplies next to the Durango. Picking up a quart of oil and the funnel Adam had purchased, Richie walked around to the upraised hood. He stared at the machinery for a moment, then sighed and set his burden on the ground.

Adam watched curiously as Richie walked back to his bike and shrugged out of his jacket. He choked back a groan when Richie grabbed the neck of his t-shirt and tugged it over his head. Not again, Adam thought as a familiar tightening began in his groin. The pressure in his jeans only increased when Richie walked back to the SUV and leaned over to fiddle with one of the mysteries under the hood.

His rapidly hardening flesh acting as a kind of magnet, Adam found himself drawn towards the SUV to observe Richie from closer range. Much closer range.

Richie appeared not to notice when Adam settled a breath away from his right shoulder. Once the first quart of oil was on its way through the funnel, he reached across Adam’s body for the other man’s right hand. Bringing it under the hood to grasp the container of oil still draining into the funnel, Richie ordered, “Hold this. I have to get the other two.”

Adam’s body started to tingle when Richie did not simply step away, but stayed close enough that his movements caused all kinds of incidental contact. That is he up to? Adam asked himself when Richie returned and positioned himself exactly where he had been before — right next to Adam. Am I being that obvious?

Casting a discreet glance downward, Adam knew the answer to that question was a definite yes.

The next few minutes passed in relative silence, with Richie appropriating Adam’s hands as necessary and issuing occasional verbal orders as well. The oil and water was filled, the air filter was changed, and at last the Durango was purring contentedly.

“She’ll run for you now,” Richie observed, wiping his hands a final time on his now filthy t-shirt.

“Thank you,” Adam responded before tearing himself away to fumble with the contents of his duffel bag. “It might be a little big,” he apologized as he passed Richie the blue t-shirt he’d produced from the bag, “ but it’s clean.”

Even though he knew he was staring, Adam couldn’t stop himself from watching Richie as he pulled the t-shirt over his head and smoothed it over his torso. When Richie unbuttoned his jeans and began tucking the shirt in, Adam forced back a groan and tried to focus on the geological scenery. Not surprisingly, looking at rocks did nothing except remind Adam of the rock-hard member in his jeans.

I guess he’s happy to see me, Richie thought as he observed Adam’s efforts to hide his arousal. Very happy, he added, his eyes widening as the bulge in Adam’s jeans kept expanding. A quick, delicious shiver of satisfaction started with a slight hitch in his breathing and ended with a slight tug in his groin. This little game was getting better all the time.

Richie rebuttoned his pants, wincing when his stomach growled loudly. Sometimes having the body of an eternal teenager had its downside.

“Hungry?” Adam guessed.

“Yeah,” Richie confirmed, grinning ruefully. “It’s been awhile.”

Adam frowned in sudden concern. “How long?”

Richie counted back. “Oh man, it’s been twelve hours. No wonder I’m starving.”

The furrows clearing from his forehead, Adam arched an amused eyebrow and said, “You obviously live a very deprived life.”

“I do okay,” Richie admitted. “Except sometimes I have to help idiots that don’t check their oil, and then I have to skip lunch.”

“Touché,” Adam laughed. “Since, as you pointed out, I made you miss lunch, why don’t I buy you dinner?”

“Sounds fair,” Richie acknowledged casually, revealing none of his delight at receiving the invitation he’d been fishing for.

“Go ahead and lead,” Adam offered. “Keep driving until you see someplace you like.”

“Are you sure?” Richie asked, pleased that Adam had once again played right into his hands.

“Why not?” Adam shrugged. “I don’t know this road, and I’m not in any hurry.”

“All right then.” Richie paused, then teased, “I’ll go slow so you can keep up.”

“I’ll keep up,” Adam assured him. “Just drive.”

“Okay,” Richie agreed, laughing to himself as he put on his helmet and started his motorcycle.

Watching him, Adam thought, Don’t worry, Kid. You aren’t going to lose me just yet. But even if you know where we’re going, it won’t be quite as easy to get there as you think.

An hour after they’d passed Kate’s garage on the highway, the sky began to darken ominously as clouds rolled in.

Shit, Richie thought, reluctant to ride out what looked to be a gullywasher on the back of his motorcycle. Knowing that the rain would come fast and hard, he quickly began scanning the roadside for a place to stop. There were mom-and-pop diners, truck stops, and a 7-11 or two, but he wanted something better.

Richie spotted the converted hacienda just as the first drops bounced off of his helmet, and he turned sharply into the driveway. He maneuvered his bike into a parking spot near the front door of the hacienda, raced for the awning that covered the portal, and arrived underneath it only a little wetter than he had been. He watched as Adam traveled farther and farther back in the lot in search of a space for the Durango. When the sky opened up suddenly and the rain began falling in sheets instead of drops, he grimaced sympathetically. Adam was going to get soaked.

Scowling at the rain streaming down the windshield, Adam braced himself to get out of the car. Hooking an arm through the strap of his duffel bag and the other into the arm of his trench coat, he opened the door and began the trek to the hacienda. He moved with the same purposeful stride that he always did, shifting his duffel back to the opposite shoulder and putting his newly freed arm through the other sleeve of the coat his only concessions to the driving rain.

“Okay, now I know you’re crazy,” Richie laughed when Adam finally reached the protective arch of the awning.

“What finally convinced you?”

“It’s pouring down rain, but you just walked up here like it was ninety degrees and sunny.”

Adam shrugged. “It’s only rain.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got to be wet everywhere”

“There are worse things to be.”

Finally noticing the duffel, Richie asked, “What’s with the bag? You moving in?”

“For the night, anyway. Even if this clears up, I think I’ve had enough fun for one day.”

“True,” Richie acknowledged. “We can have dinner here, then, and I’ll take off when the rain stops.”

“Suits me,” Adam replied, turning towards the registration desk. When he had his key, Adam looked back at Richie, hesitated, then said. “You might as well come on up. You can dry off while I change.”

“Thanks,” Richie grinned, trying to pull the rain-spattered front of his pants away from his legs. “I am a little too wet for comfort.”

Richie pressed the up arrow when they reached the bank of elevators, but Adam did not stop. When the soggy immortal opened the door to the stairwell and arched an inquiring brow in his direction, Richie shrugged and continued on towards the stairs. “You have a thing against elevators?”

“I hate waiting. I’d rather walk.”

Yeah, gotta keep moving, Richie silently agreed.

They climbed to the third floor in companionable silence. Adam’s boots sometimes squished along with, sometimes squished just barely out of step with, the scuffle of Richie’s shoes, but they did not speak. When they reached room 303, Adam’s card key slipped in easily, and the door was opened without ceremony.

“Nice,” Richie snickered when he got his first look at the room. “I don’t know why they call this a single room. There must be room for four in that bed.” He clapped Adam on the shoulder. “Way to go, man. I knew the desk clerk was checking you out, but I guess she has some big plans.”

“She was not checking me out,” Adam argued, “but even if she does have any ‘plans’, she will be sadly disappointed. I have no intention of sharing this bed with anyone tonight.”

“What a waste,” Richie sighed, shaking his head regretfully before turning to examine the rest of the room. Eyeing the large, sunken tub in the bathroom and the two terry cloth robes hanging on pegs behind the bathroom door, Richie asked himself, Who is he kidding, anyway? This room might as well be the honeymoon suite. Laughing to himself, Richie walked over to the big bed, grabbed the TV remote from the nightstand, and settled on the edge of the bed to flip through the channels. It was going to be interesting to see which was more firm — Adam’s resolve to spend the night alone or the mattress of the enormous bed.

Damn it, Adam cursed inwardly. I said a room with a decent sized bed, not a bloody honeymoon suite. Now the brat thinks I’m trying to get laid.

~Aren’t you?~ an amused internal voice asked.

No! Adam denied immediately.

~Oh, so you haven’t been at least semi-aroused for most of the day, then? Must have been some other five thousand year old immortal whose brain I was in. My mistake. ~

Just because I’ve been... turned on... at times doesn’t mean I want to go to bed with him. Realizing how contradictory that statement was, Adam tried to backpedal. I mean, just because I want him... er... I’m attracted to him, but... Oh, hell, I’m going to go take a shower.

Adam turned to Richie. “Will that empty hole in your stomach wait long enough for me to take a shower?”

“Sure,” Richie shrugged, shifting to a more comfortable position on the bed and settling in to watch the latest installment of When Animals Attack. He heard the shower gurgle to life and turned up the volume slightly on the TV to compensate for the extra noise in the room. Hard as he tried, though, he couldn’t quite tune the sound out. Some part of his mind was just so... aware... of the noise that it was difficult to concentrate on the show. He was relieved when the water was turned off, but his ears still seemed hypersensitive to each of the small sounds coming from the bathroom. Click. Scuffle. Snick. Splash.

All at once the door opened, and Richie instinctively turned his head to look. He saw Adam emerging from the bathroom with only one of the soft, white hotel towels wrapped around his waist. Hotel towels were never really ‘bath’ sized, and this one left little to the imagination. It seemed to Richie that he could see acres of lean, corded muscle bunching and flexing under shower-flushed skin. It was suddenly easy to imagine the hands burrowing through the duffel bag wielding a sword, instead.

Adam’s hands were reaching for the towel before Richie registered the fact that the other man intended to put on the boxers he’d found in his bag. He rose quickly and managed to escape to the bathroom before the towel came off. He absolutely did not get a glimpse of a swelling cock rising from a nest of dark hair. No way.

When the bathroom door closed with a firm click, Adam sat down heavily on the bed and sighed with relief. Without the stimulation of Richie’s eyes drinking in the slightest detail of his body, he managed to convince his blood to return to his brain instead of a certain overzealous extremity. It was bad enough looking at Richie, but with Richie looking back....

Firmly pushing the image from his mind, Adam dressed quickly in the first outfit he found in the bag. He was buckling the belt over a pair of Dockers before he realized what he’d done. Dockers, dress shirt discreetly opened at the neck, loafers — he’d put on his ‘Dr. Pierson’ clothes. Gazing critically at his reflection in the mirror, he decided it was going to have to do. Richie was going to be out of the bathroom any second, so there was no time to change. He automatically reached for the glasses that completed the persona, then nearly discarded them, but finally decided there was no point in doing it halfway. Tonight he would be ‘Dr. Pierson.’ Who knows, he thought. Maybe the good doctor will have an easier time resisting Richie than I do.

Richie came out of the bathroom in time to hear Adam zipping up the duffel bag. He rounded the corner, then stopped short.

Who is this guy? Richie asked himself, all but gaping at the buttoned-down, well-pressed man in front of him. One minute he’s a lean, mean fighting machine, and the next he’s... Clark Kent.

“Is something wrong?” Adam questioned when he caught Richie staring at him.

“No,” Richie assured him. “In fact, I’m impressed.”

“I have many impressive qualities,” ‘Dr. Pierson’ responded in his most British voice. “Which one are you referring to?”

“A pair of Dockers, a pair of glasses, and it’s a whole new you.”

“Oh, that. Well, we all have our little disguises.”

“Who are you today?”

Adam adjusted his glasses on his nose, then extended his hand. “Hi, I’m Dr. Pierson. I’m on my way to accept a position at the medical school at UT Galveston.”

Richie reached out to take Adam’s hand, but stopped short. Instead he held his hand out, palm up. “Take off your glasses.”

“What?”

“Take them off. I want to see something.”

Adam complied, handing the eyewear to Richie.

Richie turned away from Adam. He put the glasses on and took off his leather jacket. He straightened his borrowed t-shirt, making sure it was tucked neatly into his jeans. He ran his hands through his hair, tousling the curls. He turned back to Adam and offered a hand to shake. “Nice to meet you, Doctor. My name’s Richard Ryan, and I’m going to be in your class this semester.”

A slow smile spread across Adam’s face as he witnessed Richie’s transformation. Wary blue ice had been replaced by limpid pools glowing with enthusiasm. The glasses added a charmingly intellectual look — precisely the reason Dr. Pierson himself favored them. Continuing the game, Adam responded, “I’m looking forward to seeing you at the University, Richard. But why don’t we go downstairs, and you can tell me about your summer plans over dinner?”

The young med student grinned sheepishly. “I think I could eat a horse.”

“Well, we’ll see what’s on the menu,” ‘Dr. Pierson’ laughed, opening the hotel room door and ushering ‘Richard’ out ahead of him.

An enormous dinner and five Dos Equis apiece later, the eyeglasses rested in the center of the table, ‘Dr. Pierson’ and ‘Richard’ were gone, and Adam and Richie were lingering over their sixth beer.

“I’m not, you know.” Richie argued.

“Not what?”

“A kid.”

“Probably not,” Adam conceded.

“I know I look young,” Richie continued.

“You’ve never been as young as you look.”

The certainty in the other immortal’s voice startled Richie. He considered the man sitting across from him and finally asked, “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you as old as you look?”

Adam grinned wryly, but did not answer. Instead he questioned, “What do you think?”

Richie gazed into Adam’s eyes for another long moment, before replying, “You couldn’t possibly be that old.”

An amused eyebrow arched, and there was a smirk in Adam’s voice when he answered, “You might be surprised.”

“Not much surprises me any more, Old Man.”

“Oh, I can,” Adam promised, his tone silk over steel.

“Oh yeah?” Richie challenged, “All right. Surprise me.”

“Okay,” Adam agreed smoothly. “I really am a doctor.”

“No shit? Cool.” Richie sounded pleased, but not impressed. Clearly Adam was going to have to do better.

Sitting back, Adam considered the man before him and began again. “You were raised in the Northwest. Portland, most likely. You’re twenty-two, maybe twenty-three years old, but you died when you were...eighteen, I’d say. Your knowledge of cars comes from self-teaching rather than any formal training, and you prefer motorcycles to cars because they’re more dangerous.” He paused and asked, “Should I go on?”

When Richie nodded silently, he continued, “You’ve had some training with a sword, although your relationship with your teacher ended badly not too long ago. Most likely his fault, not yours, although I can’t tell what the exact reason was. You’ve been challenged enough to know how to avoid fights when you can, and how to clean up the mess if you can’t.”

“Don’t stop there,” Richie urged him coldly when Adam once again came to a halt.

“Why not? You already know that you have a history of sexual abuse, and that you’ve been having a lot of casual sex, but nothing resembling a relationship for years now. You don’t need me to tell you that you have no idea where you’re headed when you leave here, or that you have no definite plans for the next twenty-four hours, let alone the next five years of your life.”

“Who have you been talking to about me?” Richie demanded, his words clipped and his eyes hard.

“No one,” Adam insisted gently. “I’m just a student of human nature. Our kind, if they’re going to live very long, have to be able to read people, to pick up on all of the clues to who they are, where they’ve been, and where they’re going. And Richie, I’ve lived a long time.”

Richie’s expression did not lighten, but some of the tension seeped from his body. The same instinct that had told him to help Adam in the afternoon told him that Adam was telling the truth now.

He fought back a bone-deep terror that anyone could know as much about him as Adam seemed to just from casual observation. The fact was, people were, for the most part, easy to fool. It was unlikely that one person in a thousand would have picked up even a hint of what Adam had guessed easily.

“My turn,” Richie heard himself blurt out as an idea began tickling the back of his brain.

“What?”

“You analyzed me,” Richie replied, growing more confident as the idea settled in his mind. “Now I get to do it to you.”

“All right,” Adam agreed quietly.

Taking a deep breath, Richie began, “You’re so old, I’m not even going to try and guess how old you are or where you’re from. You’re a doctor, probably because it’s useful anywhere you go. It also means people might trust you to treat yourself instead of wondering why you heal so fast. You know what, though? I think you like being a doctor because you like helping people. You’d like people to think you don’t care about anything, but I think you care a lot about people.” Richie raised an eyebrow and echoed Adam’s earlier words. “Should I go on?”

“By all means,” Adam assented, his lips quirking slightly.

“You stay in shape, and I bet you’re a good fighter, but you’re not a head hunter. You fight when you have to, but you’d rather not.” Richie paused as insight flickered inside him, then voiced it. “You’re more like a general than a soldier. It’s more about tactics and strategy for you than the battle itself.”

“Don’t stop there,” Adam whispered, giving Richie’s words back to him.

“You act like you’re an open book, but that really just keeps people from digging where you don’t want them to. They think they’re getting the whole story, so they don’t even try to look deeper. You have all of these relationships, but people don’t know you at all. And you always have a plan. A game plan, a five year plan, a master plan, whatever — you don’t make a move without thinking it through and seeing how to twist a situation to your advantage.”

It was Adam’s turn to feel a shaft of unease dart through him at the accuracy of Richie’s perceptions. In some ways, the insights Richie had reached about him were more dangerous than his own knowledge of Richie. Adam knew he’d worked out the details of Richie’s life, but Richie had seen inside him, to the person he was.

“How’d I do?” Richie asked when Adam made no verbal response to his analysis.

“How do you think you did?”

Did I mention that you hate to give direct answers? Richie muttered inwardly before locking his gaze with Adam’s and saying, “I was right on.”

Adam still wasn’t quite sure what to say, so he settled for nodding once.

To fill the silence spreading between him and Adam, Richie lifted his beer to his lips and drained the last bit. Examining the empty bottle, Richie gradually became aware of the discomfort of his body. He looked at Adam. “I hafta pee,” he pronounced seriously.

Adam found this announcement hilarious, and laughed heartily as Richie stood, wobbled dangerously, but managed not to fall over. Rising carefully himself, he followed Richie’s unsteady journey to the restaurant bathroom.

Once golden liquid was flowing safely into the urinal, Richie turned to Adam who was at the porcelain stand next to him. “Did we have four or five beers?”

“You finished that last one?”

“Yeah.”

“Then we each had six.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Why?” Adam asked as he shook off and refastened his pants.

“I probably shouldn’t drive anywhere, that’s all,” Richie shrugged agreeably as he fumbled with the button and zipper of his jeans.

Although Richie was already sobering, Adam had to agree that letting him drive was probably out of the question. “You can stay with me,” he heard himself offer impulsively.

“Are you sure, man?”

“Yes,” Adam confirmed, his brain frantically trying to catch up with his mouth. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I do,” Adam replied wryly. He placed a hand between Richie’s shoulder blades and pushed gently. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Adam’s key card did not slip quite as easily into the lock this time, but they managed to get inside without waking the neighbors. After a brief hunt for the light switch, a pit stop at the bathroom, and another argument over who was going to sleep on the floor, Adam had finally managed to get Richie to sit on the bed and take off his shoes.

“Do you need some help?” Adam asked when the bootlaces appeared to be getting more knotted instead of coming untied.

“No,” Richie huffed. “It’s just these stupid strings.”

Adam knelt down and brushed Richie’s hands aside. “Let me try.”

A few frustrating minutes later, Adam was forced to concede that Richie might be right. The strings did seem to be incredibly stupid. He glanced up at Richie. “We’ll have to cut them.”

“Are you sure?” Richie moaned.

“Well, you could sleep with them on.”

Richie waved off the idea with both hands. “Nuh uh. Just do it, man.”

Adam nodded solemnly and stood up, walking over to the closet.

Watching curiously as Adam’s body half-disappeared into the small space, Richie did not immediately question why Adam reemerged holding his sword. The closer the gleaming steel came to where he was sitting, however, Richie began to think something wasn’t right. “What are you gonna do with that?” he asked Adam.

Adam paused in mid-stride and explained patiently, “We have to cut your bootlaces.”

“Not with that, we don’t!” Richie protested. “Don’t you have any scissors in that big-ass bag of yours?”

“No.”

“Oh, Christ,” Richie sighed. “Just... stop,” he ordered when Adam took another step closer. “I’m sure this can be resolved without cutting.” To prove his point, Richie once again attempted to unsnarl his laces, this time with much greater success. After getting the left boot off, he held it up triumphantly. “See? I did it.”

“Congratulations,” Adam replied, laying his sword on a table and stepping out of his own shoes. Sitting in the chair next to the table, he pulled off his socks and sat back to watch Richie deal with his right shoe and his socks.

When he had finished his task, Richie turned to Adam and wiggled his bare toes. “There. Two naked feet.”

“Very nice,” Adam acknowledged. “Think you can get your shirt and pants off, too?”

The instant the words were out of his mouth, Adam wished them back again. His mind and his body were reacting as though he had suggested a strip tease, and he could just imagine what Richie was thinking.

“Oh yeah, no problem,” he heard Richie say, and then he watched as the innuendo registered. He saw Richie’s eyelids lower, then raise again to reveal just how much the blue irises had darkened.

Richie’s expression, however, was all innocence when he asked, “What about you?”

“Oh...” Adam swallowed. “Right. I was just waiting for you.”

“Well then...” Richie shrugged, and before Adam could blink, the redhead stood up and pulled the t-shirt over his head.

Adam’s concentrated on keeping his jaw from dropping when he was once again confronted with Richie’s bare chest. Feeling Richie’s eyes on him, Adam realized that his hands had automatically begun unbuttoning his shirt. His fingers started to tremble slightly when he saw how closely Richie was examining each inch of flesh as it was exposed. When he reached the final button, Adam cast his gaze downward and slid the shirt from his shoulders. As he tugged his wrists free of the cuffs, however, he could not resist a brief glance up through his lashes to see Richie’s reaction. He felt the impact of Richie’s amused approval in every nerve ending in his body, and when he turned to lay the shirt neatly over the chair he allowed a full fledged smile to split his face. Facing Richie once more, he arched a challenging brow at the younger man, daring him to continue the game.

Richie’s breathing wasn’t perfectly even, and he was fighting equal amounts of uncertainty and arousal, but his hands were steady and his cockiest grin shone brightly when he reached for the button of his jeans. He didn’t hurry, just unbuttoned his jeans and lowered the zipper matter-of-factly. His head was bent while he pushed the denim off of his legs, so he couldn’t see Adam’s face, but he heard the surprised gasp Adam didn’t quite control. Richie straightened nonchalantly, waiting to see if the older man would comment on the fact that instead of debating between boxers or briefs, he’d gone without either. To his surprise, Adam just stared for a second, chuckled, and began working on his own belt buckle.

The buckle opened, the button undone, the zipper lowered, Adam stepped out of his pants and laid them on the chair alongside his shirt. Although he had boxers on, the front was tented enough that his arousal was as apparent as Richie’s. Since Richie had taken the lead thus far in the play unfolding, Adam said nothing, instead waiting patiently for Richie’s next move.

Focusing briefly on the bulge in Adam’s boxers, Richie lifted his gaze and said, “ I guess we’re ready for bed, then.”

Uncertain how to interpret Richie’s statement, Adam simply curved his lips in a Mona Lisa smile and remained silent.

“Oh wait,” Richie added apologetically. “There is one more thing.”

An expectant tension hummed in Adam’s body, but his only visible response was to slant an inquiring look at Richie.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth,” Richie explained. “I’ll be right back.”

“I haven’t brushed my teeth,” Adam mouthed mockingly in the direction of the closed bathroom door.

You’re not half as clever as you think you are, Kid, he thought as he hung his pants and shirt in the closet. Taking advantage of the time alone, he also slipped his sword between the mattress and box spring of the bed, pulled the spare blankets out of the closet, and arranged them on the floor. Satisfied that everything was as ready as he could make it, Adam settled into the chair once more to wait for Richie.

In the bathroom, Richie brushed his teeth mechanically, his mind racing from one thought to the next. What am I doing? he asked himself.

~Don’t worry. This is all part of the plan.~

Plan? You mean I thought this was a good idea?

~Relax. You can do this. It’s just a game, and he knows how to play.~

So, what, he fucks me now, and then I fuck him later?

~You got it. It’s the same game, just a different playing field.~

I can’t believe I put myself in this position on purpose. I have got to be some kind of glutton for punishment.

~He’s just a brainy old antique. The only reason he can still get it up is because he’s immortal. He probably thinks a kink is something you get in your neck. Don’t worry about it.~

So what you’re saying is that I’ll recover.

~Exactly.~

That makes me feel so much better.

~You’ll be fine. Go get ‘em, Sport.~

Sport?

~Yeah. You know, knock ’im dead. Go for the gusto. Win one for the Gipper, and all that.~

Shaking his head at the absurd turn his mind had taken, but feeling better, Richie rinsed out his mouth and braced himself for the next round.

The first thing he saw when he walked out of the bathroom were the blankets on the floor. “You’re really gonna sleep on the floor?” he asked Adam, surprised.

“Yes, I’m really going to sleep on the floor,” Adam insisted stubbornly.

That’s what you think, Old Man. Richie found his most persuasive smile. “Look, the bed is huge. We could share, no problem.”

“I’ve never been very good at sharing,” Adam shrugged, ignoring the way his body leapt in response to Richie’s offer.

“What, you hog the covers?” Richie teased.

“Something like that,” Adam mumbled. “It’s better for your back, anyway,” he continued, alarmed to realize that he was starting to babble, but unable to help himself. “Just like a firm mattress...” He trailed off, clenching his jaw to stop the flow of words.

Richie looked at the floor, then the bed, then the floor again. Finally he said, “All right, you win. We’ll sleep on the floor.”

We?! Adam’s mind stuck on that one word just long enough for Richie to close the distance between them, haul Adam to his feet, and take his lips in a hungry kiss. As the kiss deepened, Richie gradually maneuvered them towards the bed. When the backs of his knees hit the mattress, Adam shoved his hands against Richie’s chest hard enough that their mouths came apart. Instead of the denial he had expected to voice, Adam heard himself say, “You said we’d sleep on the floor.”

“We’ll sleep on the floor if you want,” Richie answered, pausing to nibble on Adam’s lips, “but we’re gonna screw on the bed.” He laughed wickedly and added, “Rug burn’s a bitch.”

A hand placed in the center of Adam’s chest pressed him inexorably back onto the bed. Richie stepped into the space between Adam’s legs and took off Adam’s boxers. When the cotton barrier had been removed, Richie used one knee to push the other man farther onto the bed and came down on top of him. Braced on his left hand, his right hand wrapped securely around Adam’s substantial erection, Richie asked, “Are you going to argue with me about this?”

He reveled in the internal battle so clearly written on Adam’s face. Common sense was already losing ground to desire, but when his hand began moving, stroking Adam’s cock from base to tip, he sensed that victory was near. He repeated his question. “Are you going to argue with me about this?”

Adam felt the last of his good judgment pack up and head for the hills, and was glad to see it go. He had no intention of allowing Richie to turn the night into a fast, hard rush to orgasm, however.

“No, I’m not going to argue” he replied evenly, his eyes burning into Richie’s an instant before he reached behind the curly head and pulled it down for a kiss.

Richie automatically responded to the kiss, but it was five full minutes before he realized that, although Adam’s lips were pressed firmly against his, there was no rush to move on to more erogenous zones. There was hunger, but no hurry. It felt like nothing so much as an exploration, a study as thorough as any Adam had attempted in the academic world.

A succession of strokes against his tongue encouraged Richie to join in, and after a slight hesitation, he did. The deeper the kiss went, the more Richie’s body relaxed fluidly into the well-muscled form beneath him. The novelty of kissing for its own sake, rather than as a means to an end, captured his imagination. Even the reflexive panic he felt when Adam rolled on top of him was quickly overwhelmed by his need to know the mouth tangled with his.

As absorbed as Richie was with Adam’s mouth, the warm weight of Adam’s body pressing him into the mattress began to distract him. His hands moved of their own volition, learning the texture of the skin on Adam’s back, feeling the bunch and flex of muscle there, discovering how firm the globes of his ass were, and pulling their groins into even closer contact. When Adam groaned into Richie’s mouth, the younger man’s hand curled instinctively around the erection alongside his own.

Oh shit, Adam thought as pleasure coursed through him. Oh hell. Oh fuck. Someone had forgotten to teach Richie how fine an art kissing was, but they had definitely not neglected this particular discipline. Needing an outlet for the arousal flaring inside him, Adam bent his head to take Richie’s nipple. He never made contact, however, because the gust of his breath across the tip caused Richie to flinch. Just the slightest movement, so quick Adam almost missed it, but it seemed to communicate a subtle tension to the rest of Richie’s body.

To give himself time to think, Adam blazed a wet trail of kisses and nibbles down the center of Richie’s chest instead. The sensitive muscles of Richie’s abdomen beckoned, but Adam nuzzled his way back to the pelt of hair farther north. For a moment he just breathed, absorbing Richie’s unique scent. His hands wandered, seemingly at random, first approaching, eventually brushing across, and finally teasing the nubs that had peaked in the nest of hair. He watched carefully for any further signs of resistance, but saw only Richie’s head thrown back as he arched into the touch. A rumble of anticipation worked its way up from Adam’s chest an instant before his head dipped to taste Richie’s nipples for the first time. When Richie’s hands buried themselves in Adam’s hair, the obliging immortal switched from laps and swirls of his tongue to strong suction.

Somebody oughta bottle this, Richie thought as the tugging of Adam’s mouth sent yet another bolt of electricity zinging straight to his cock. They’d make a fortune. When Adam’s body shifted sinuously against his and began moving lower, Richie felt his breathing lose all semblance of rhythm.

He caught gulps of air as he could, both anticipating and dreading the moment when Adam’s lips closed over his aching hardness. As thoroughly as he was enjoying himself, a part of Richie was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Something this good had to have a price. But he would pay whatever it cost, Richie knew, if Adam would just suck him.

Instead, the other immortal was on a seek and destroy mission, finding and licking up each new drop before it escaped from the swollen head and began the long journey to the base of Richie’s shaft. When the flow could no longer be contained, Adam gave into Richie’s demands and his own desire, and took Richie’s entire length into his mouth and throat. He savored each nuance of Richie’s response, drawing them both to the brink of orgasm.

With a few lingering passes of his tongue, Adam pulled back before they tumbled over the edge. He crawled back up Richie’s body to press a quick, hard kiss on his lips and said, “Wait here.”

Richie turned his head to the side so he could watch as Adam once again dug through the contents of his duffel bag. When Adam turned around holding a familiar tube in his hand, Richie fought back a wave of disappointment. It looked like it was time to start paying.

“Are you going to argue with me about this?” Adam asked softly, repeating Richie’s earlier words.

Richie shook his head and rolled over to grab a pillow. He turned onto his stomach and placed the pillow under his hips.

Adam bit back an oath at the dark emotions he had seen behind Richie’s eyes. Someone, maybe a number of people, had a lot to answer for. When he got back to the bed he took a moment to admire the line of Richie’s spine, ran a hand lightly from Richie’s thigh up to his shoulder, then rolled Richie onto his back. Settling himself on his back against the pillows Richie had vacated, Adam passed Richie the lube and spread his legs wide.

Richie searched the hazel eyes next to him and saw only desire. When Adam extended a hand, he took it, allowing himself to be drawn between Adam’s legs.

When Richie made no move to open the lube, Adam said, “You don’t have to...”

Hearing the resignation in Adam’s voice, Richie asked, “You really want me to...?”

“Yes,” Adam insisted. “Please. If you want to.”

“I...” Richie trailed off, struck by the realization that he did want to. Very much. “I’ll hurt you,” he said, still not really understanding why Adam would put himself in such a vulnerable position.

“A little, maybe,” Adam replied, “but only for a moment. Once the pain is gone, only pleasure remains..”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then you won’t hurt me,” Adam shrugged. “But even if you do, it’s the pleasure that matters.”

Is it really that simple? Richie wondered. He took two deep breaths, then made a decision. I guess we’ll find out. Uncapping the lube, he coated the length of one finger. He made sure every inch was covered, trying not to blush when Adam arched a brow over how much of the gel was making its way onto the single digit. He tilted his chin in response to Adam’s silent amusement and pressed the lube-moistened finger against the puckered opening being offered to him.

When Adam sighed and squirmed, trying to increase the pressure, Richie experimentally ran his finger around the rim, circling but not entering.

“Richie, please,” Adam gasped.

The muscled ring guarding the entrance was tight, but with slow, careful progress Richie eased the tip of his finger inside. Responding to Adam’s husky encouragement, the penetration progressed to the knuckle, and then at last to the full length of the digit. Adam cried out, and Richie instantly began to remove his finger. The retreat only seemed to heighten the torment inscribed on Adam’s face, however. It suddenly occurred to him that Adam was arching to meet, and not avoid, the stroke of his finger, and he pressed forward once more. His stroke glanced across the prostate this time, and Adam shuddered. Encouraged, Richie set a slow pattern of thrust and retreat that thrilled them both.

“More, Richie,” Adam begged hoarsely.

Richie paused to consider the request, then withdrew his finger and prepared a second. A fleeting frown wrinkled his brow at the initial resistance of Adam’s body, but Richie’s concern was wiped away by Adam’s guttural sound of pleasure when the twin invaders scissored inside him. When Adam had been stretched as much as two fingers would allow, Richie leaned close and asked, “More?”

“Yes. Oh, yes,” the older immortal agreed, unable to hold back a whimper of loss when he was empty again.

This time Richie was not surprised when Adam’s body not only accepted the intrusion of his fingers, but swallowed them whole. Hazel eyes glittered with passion, and Richie marveled at how much the other man was enjoying their play. His own heart was thudding heavily against his ribs just watching Adam’s obvious pleasure.

“Richie!”

The urgency in Adam’s voice sent shivers chasing down Richie’s spine. He knew what Adam wanted. God knew he wanted it, too. Richie’s hands trembled as he coated his straining cock with lube. Adam’s prepared opening accepted him easily, and the feel of the internal muscles massaging him was almost too much. Adam was so tight! Richie couldn’t remember ever being held so closely, being accepted so completely.

When Adam lifted his hips, Richie slipped deeper inside, but the urge to go deeper still was overwhelming. He pulled almost completely out, then surged forward again. The sound of skin slapping against skin sent a primal thrill through Richie, and he thrust once more, harder this time.

“Again,” Adam demanded, grabbing Richie’s ass and pulling him closer. “Hurry.”

“Like this?” Richie taunted, his motion agonizingly slow. “Or this?” he continued as he quickened the pace once more.

“Yes!” Adam shouted in triumph, his body rising and falling to match the steadily increasing tempo. His hands clawed at Richie’s back, trying to find purchase on the sweat-slicked skin. He was in no mood to be teased. All he wanted was Richie, as fast and as deep as he could have him.

The demands of their bodies took over completely. They moved together, their only thought to reach the fulfillment waiting for them. There was no past, no future — just the glorious present. Each panting breath brought them closer to release, and they raced toward it.

Richie’s orgasm tore though him the way a sprinter bursts through the tape at the finish line. One second the finish is just out of reach, and the next the body connects with the tape, stumbling over its feet for a few more yards before gradually coming to a halt. Richie felt the crisis coming, but although the first shocks of it rocked him hard, it was a long time before the storm had passed.

Once Adam found his own release, Richie’s head came to rest on Adam’s chest. Beneath his ear he could hear the other man’s heartbeat slowly returning to normal. Either the man was an incredible actor or his climax had been as powerful as Richie’s own. Lifting his head just enough to see the lazy, satisfied smile on Adam’s face, Richie felt an answering grin spread across his own. Adam’s body shifted underneath him and the grin changed to a concerned frown. “Am I too heavy?” he asked, bracing himself on his elbows.

Hazel eyes slitted open. “No,” Adam answered. The now-familiar smirk appeared when he explained, “I’m just getting comfortable.” After craning his neck for a quick peck on Richie’s forehead, he lay his head back on the pillow.

“You are, though?” Richie couldn’t help asking. “Comfortable, I mean?”

“What do you think?”

Richie looked, but couldn’t find a single sign of tension or pain in Adam’s expression or body language. In fact, he was surprised the other man wasn’t purring. He shook his head and grinned, “You look pretty comfy to me.”

Adam’s expression turned serious. “You didn’t hurt me, Richie.”

“I know, it’s just...” A little embarrassed, Richie ducked his head to avoid Adam’s gaze.

“Richie...” the elder man began, only to change his mind and cut himself off.

Something in Adam’s voice had Richie lifting his head, made him search Adam’s face carefully when he didn’t speak further. “What?” he pressed.

“It was nothing,” Adam shrugged, running a hand down Richie’s arm.

“Sure,” Richie replied, his voice flat. His lips curved in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Whatever.” Pressing a quick kiss on Adam’s lips, he eased himself out of Adam’s body and said, “Don’t move.”

Watching Richie walk to the bathroom, Adam cursed himself. He should have known Richie wouldn’t take ‘nothing’ at face value. Watching Richie’s shields go back up, feeling their bodies separate at the same time, had brought him almost physical pain. Adam knew that keeping some distance between them was a good idea, but he had an overwhelming urge to break the barriers down, to really feel something for a change.

Just then Richie emerged from the bathroom carrying a washcloth. “I thought we should clean up a bit,” he grinned, brandishing the white square.

Bloody hell, Adam swore inwardly even as his lips tilted into a sensual smile. Seeing Richie now, teasing and sexy and completely closed off, made him realize exactly how open Richie had been just moments before. He had to fix this.

“Mmmm,” he hummed when the warm, damp washcloth rasped across the skin of his stomach. “That feels good.” When his cock began to stir, hardening with each stroke of the material, Adam made no attempt to control it.

Richie laughed, “I guess you do like it.” He shifted the cloth to bathe Adam’s growing erection, delighting in the fierce response his touch generated. “Are you always this easy to please?”

“I am tonight, anyway,” Adam answered, closing his eyes when cleaning turned to slow, firm strokes.

Whatever it was Adam had decided not to say earlier, Richie knew he wasn’t holding back now. Slowly the ice that had formed in his stomach melted once more into desire. Knowing that his touch brought Adam pleasure, he seemed unable to stop his hands from exploring further. He brought the cloth lower as he cupped Adam’s balls, massaging them inside their sensitive sac. He slid the material lower still, dampening the puckered ring that guarded Adam’s opening. He marveled again when Adam eagerly accepted his touch, even asked for more.

Adam opened his eyes long enough to see the expression on Richie’s face, and knew that he had found his opportunity. “You aren’t hurting me,” he reminded the younger man.

“You keep saying that.”

“But you don’t really believe it. You’ve just finished cleaning up the evidence of how much I enjoyed having you inside me, but it’s still impossible to accept that I would want you to touch me?”

“It’s stupid, I know, but...”

“No, Richie,” Adam interrupted, sitting up and placing gentle fingers over the younger man’s lips to silence him. The rest of the words he wanted to say still caught in his throat, but finally he said, “I can show you, if you’re willing.”

“What?”

“I can show you how little pain, and how much pleasure, there can be having another man inside you.”

“Oh,” Richie breathed as understanding dawned. “You want to fuck me.”

“I want to please you,” Adam insisted. “I want you to feel your own body wrapped tight around me, trying to hold me inside even as you beg me to move faster, thrust harder.”

Richie knew he was breathing much too fast, but the image Adam’s words had created in his mind aroused him as much as it terrified him. Still, he hesitated. Taking a deep breath, he forced a nonchalance into his voice that he wasn’t really feeling and said, “What if I... I don’t... What if I change my mind?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Adam assured him. “What we do, we do together. If anyone changes his mind — you or me — then we do something else. It’s that simple.” He kept his voice soft, but there was steel underneath when he added, “And if I do something you don’t like, or if I hurt you, you damned well better tell me.”

“But if I just... freak out, for no reason...”

“Anything bothers you, for any reason, you tell me.” Adam held up a hand when Richie would have spoken and repeated, “You tell me, and I stop.”

“Promises, promises,” Richie quipped without thinking.

“Richie...”

“I’m sorry,” Richie replied immediately, waving his comment away with a frustrated hand. He struggled to find the right words, and finally managed to explain, “I knew going into this that you were going to fuck me. I mean, you were staring at me all day. And it was no big deal, you know? I’ve been fucked before, I don’t even know how many times. It isn’t pretty, and it hurts a lot, but you get through it. After all, it can’t kill me.”

Richie allowed himself an ironic laugh as he braced himself to continue. “I figured it must feel good to the guy on top — I mean, why else would they want it all the time? But I always thought it was the power trip they got off on, as much as the actual screwing. What we did — it wasn’t like that.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Adam agreed quietly.

Richie’s voice had thickened noticeably when he spoke again. “It was different being inside you. Girls are tight, but you... God, you were just right there, all over me. And you loved it! The girls I’ve been with, they’ll let you have it, but they don’t really want it — not like that. Every time I moved so much as a muscle, you begged for more.” Richie met Adam’s gaze solemnly when he finished. “I haven’t ever felt that way. I’m not even sure I can.”

Choosing his words carefully, Adam replied, “How you have felt, what’s happened in your life — those things can’t be changed. They are part of who you are — but only a part. Looking at the past only tells us what we have done, not what we are capable of. That’s something we discover only by making choices and taking action in the present.”

“So I won’t know if I don’t try, is that it?”

Adam rolled his eyes and sighed, “Something like that.”

Richie laughed, really laughed, at the fond exasperation on Adam’s face. He took Adam’s left hand and brought it to his lips, kissing each knuckle, then biting gently on the pad of Adam’s thumb. Threading their fingers together, he rolled so that Adam lay on top of him.

“Well?” Adam asked, hazel eyes bright.

“I want to know what I’m capable of,” Richie answered. “You have to show me.”

“I will,” Adam promised, tracing his thumb along Richie’s cheek before swooping down to take Richie’s mouth. This time he didn’t have to wait for Richie to respond, but found his advances more than returned. A second before he drowned completely in the lips moving on his, Adam tore his mouth free and stared down at Richie, trying to catch his breath.

“Oh, damn,” Richie panted. “What is it about your mouth, anyway?” He couldn’t resist leaning up to nibble at the bottom lip once more.

“No, it’s yours,” Adam insisted, sucking lightly on Richie’s upper lip. “I love tasting you.”

A growl rumbling in his throat, Richie dragged Adam’s mouth down to his once more. He felt Adam’s body moving over him, the glide of skin on skin sending tendrils of fire to his groin. Sliding his legs up on either side of Adam’s body brought their erections into more intimate contact.

Twin moans ended their kiss, and Richie took the opportunity to make a demand. “More, Adam. I want you to touch me.”

The older man blinked once in surprise, then ground his teeth against the flood of desire swamping his control. “You want me to touch you?” he asked silkily when he got his voice back.

“Yes! Like you did before.”

Adam reached down and lightly tweaked a nipple. “Here?”

Richie squirmed and arched into the caress. “Yeah.”

Shifting to the other nipple, Adam gave it the same treatment. “Or maybe here?” he asked innocently.

“Yes, there.”

“There?” Adam questioned before returning to the first peak. “Or here?”

“Here. There. Both.” Richie’s frustrated glare shot blue sparks at Adam. “Just touch me, damn it.”

“As you wish,” Adam smirked, bowing his head with mock humility. Having committed himself to the task, he performed it with his usual thoroughness. Both tight buds were stroked, teased, pinched, nipped, laved, and suckled until Richie was nearly delirious.

The passion-tormented immortal framed Adam’s face in his hands and forced the other man to look at him. “You’re enjoying this,” he accused.

“Oh, yes.”

“God, so am I,” Richie breathed before capturing Adam’s lips once more.

Allowing himself to be drawn into the kiss, Adam drank greedily from Richie’s lips. It wasn’t only Richie’s mouth he wanted to taste, however. Easing his mouth free, Adam trailed kisses from Richie’s chin down to his navel. He lingered there, making sure every ridge of muscle, every tiny valley quivered under his touch. Richie gasped with each involuntary contraction, and the sound was music to Adam’s ears.

Please, oh please, Richie’s mind begged when Adam’s tongue delved into the hollows between his hips and his thighs, approaching but not actually touching the heavily aroused flesh between his legs. He bit down on the inside of his lip to keep from crying out, but a whimper escaped in spite of his efforts.

Adam had been listening for the sound, and he nearly crowed with triumph. Instead, he contented himself with a knowing smile and a teasing question, “You wanted something?”

“You know what I want.”

“Yes,” Adam acknowledged, the sharp rise and fall of his chest as much proof of his desire as the spoken word.

“You want it, too, damn you.”

“Oh, yes.”

“Then why don’t you just do it?” Richie asked fiercely.

“I want the words,” Adam explained simply.

“You get some sort of thrill out of making me beg?”

“You have no idea,” Adam assured him. He slithered back up Richie’s body until they were face to face. In a quiet voice he continued, “You know I want to put my mouth on you. What if I told you I get hard just thinking about your cock? How would you feel if I told you that every drop that leaks from that soft, satiny head tastes silky and smooth in my mouth? Would you spill a drop for me now if I asked for permission to run my tongue along the vein underneath, to hold your balls in my hand? What if I told you it has been decades since I wanted to suck a man’s cock as much as I want to suck yours? Would you moan? Would you come?”

Richie stopped Adam’s words with his hand. “Put your mouth on me,” he ordered as he fought to breathe. “Now. Right now.”

“As you wish,” Adam whispered, hastening to untangle their limbs so he could obey. His words had affected him as deeply as they had aroused Richie, and he battled back the urge to simply open his mouth and throat and take all of Richie at once. Instead, he lapped daintily at the crown and traced the ridge with the point of his tongue.

“My balls,” Richie groaned. “You said you’d hold them in your hand.”

Without interrupting the work of his mouth, Adam did precisely that. He weighed the spheres in his palm and stroked his thumb along the sensitive sac that enclosed them. He brought his free hand into play and began massaging them gently.

Adam’s tongue, meanwhile, started mapping out each of the tiny veins pulsing in Richie’s shaft. He tried to count them, to focus his mind and take the snarling edge off of his own need, but he soon abandoned the attempt. There was simply no room in his brain for anything except the demands of his body.

Thinking only of the pleasure it would bring, Adam closed his mouth around Richie’s erection at the same time he flicked a finger across the tight ring at the entrance to Richie’s body. Richie reacted instantly, simultaneously trying to draw away from Adam’s finger and push himself deeper into Adam’s mouth. Cursing his inattention, Adam withdrew his hand and maintained the suction, watching carefully until Richie’s head fell back on the pillow once more and each breath seemed to catch in his chest. Having resolved not to press the issue any further, Adam was surprised at Richie’s next demand.

“Do it again, Adam. You didn’t hurt me. Stupid reflex...” Richie’s words ended on a moan as a slender finger once again brushed the puckered opening. “Ohhh,” he cried when the caress continued, teasing stroke after teasing stroke across the small pleasure point.

A thought darted into his mind, a desire he hesitated to put into words, but he forced himself to ask, “Have you ever... Does it hurt if you... use your mouth instead of your finger there?”

“No, it doesn’t hurt,” Adam rasped, his voice thick with desire.

“Will I like it?”

“I think so.”

“Will you?” Richie asked uncertainly.

“Will I like it? Oh yes,” Adam assured him.

“Then do it,” Richie said, passion overcoming the nerves he could not completely control.

As you wish, Adam told Richie in his mind, but all that came of his mouth was an inarticulate groan before he bent his head to lave the muscular circle with his tongue. Every restless motion of Richie’s body begged for more of the intimate caress, and Adam was eager to give it to him. Around and around he circled, first with the flat, then with the tip of his tongue. His lips sucked gently at the sensitive flesh, drawing hoarse cries of delight from the youth he so desperately wanted to please.

Despite his finesse, Adam knew Richie wasn’t going to find the release he sought without taking another step forward. Between passes of his tongue around the opening, he began to press just the tip of his tongue inside. Richie shuddered, and he tensed a little each time, but he did not object. Gradually, a hundred tiny penetrations later, Richie’s legs opened wider when he felt the pressure inside him, seeking to draw Adam farther in.

“Richie,” Adam began, looking up to see the younger man’s face.

Richie met Adam’s gaze for a moment, then threw his head back onto the bed. “You want to do it, don’t you?” he guessed, his words more of an acceptance of the inevitable than a question. He sighed heavily. “Oh boy.”

“Richie, this is not a test you have to pass,” Adam reminded him quietly. “We can stop right here.”

“I know,” Richie replied, raising his head so Adam could see the smile on his face. “I know we can stop. But, Adam, it felt so good, you know? Having your tongue... inside me like that. I wanted it inside me. And when you’re touching me, all I want is more of you. But when you stop, when I can think, it becomes this huge, scary thing.” He sighed heavily. “I wish I could just turn my brain off for a few minutes.”

“The thing is, Richie, it’s no good unless all of you wants it. That means your brain and your cock have to work together on this one a little bit.”

“I don’t know if they can,” Richie answered seriously. He shook his head when Adam opened his mouth to speak. “I know, I know. I won’t know until I try. All right then. Let’s do it.”

“Richie...”

The redhead placed a finger against his own lips. “Shhh. It’s all right. You won’t hurt me.”

Laughing softly, Adam squelched the rest of his objections and sifted through the bedclothes until he found the lube. His fingers fumbled with the cap, and it was Richie’s turn to laugh.

“I thought I was supposed to be the nervous one.”

“I’m not nervous,” Adam denied immediately. “I just... I haven’t done this in a while, that’s all.”

“You mean you can actually forget how? I always thought it was kind of like riding a bike.”

“Mmm,” Adam smiled, his eyes traveling slowly up and down Richie’s body, “You’re right. It’s just like that.”

“There’s nothing quite like riding a bike,” he purred as he squeezed some gel into his hand.

“The wind in your hair, the roar of the wheels on the asphalt in your ears,” he continued, spreading the lube liberally onto one finger.

“All of that sleek, well-oiled machinery underneath you, carrying you just as fast and as far as you can go,” he murmured seductively, moving his hand into position.

“Sometimes, when you’ve given everything you’ve got, ridden absolutely the last mile that you can possibly ride, you just collapse, find a shady spot to lie in, and feel your entire body pulse with your heartbeat,” he whispered, his mouth an inch above Richie’s heart and the well-lubricated digit barely touching the rim of Richie’s entrance.

“Then, when you’re breathing calmly again, you pick yourself up, put your bike back on the road, and ride again,” he finished, his mouth latching onto Richie’s nipple at the same time the tip of his finger eased inside the waiting portal.

Lulled by Adam’s voice, Richie’s senses were plunged into chaos at the dual stimulation. Pleasure battled with remembered agony. Need fought uncertainty. The old ghosts were strong, and the old wounds throbbed anew, but Richie knew they weren’t real. Reality was Adam’s finger sliding forward and retreating until Richie’s passage had been stretched to take its full length, and the wet heat of Adam’s mouth as it lavished attention on the nipple it had neglected. Richie’s eyes remained open, the concern and desire on Adam’s face anchoring him in the present. And with each centimeter of flesh that disappeared inside him, another specter from the past was banished.

Adam’s anxious voice broke into Richie’s consciousness. “Are you all right?”

“Oh yeah,” Richie answered. He moaned when Adam’s stroke glanced across the sensitive gland inside him. “’S good,” he sighed, “but...”

Adam went perfectly still. “But?”

“I want more.”

“Richie...”

“You want it, too. I can see it on your face. Please, Adam.”

The elder immortal heard Richie’s request and nearly came undone. He had no defense against the simple truth that Richie wanted him. Against his own better judgment, he removed the finger and prepared two to take its place.

This time Adam wanted no other sensations to distract Richie from what was happening to him. So although his eyes caressed Richie, the only parts of him that actually made contact were the fingertips inching their way into Richie’s snug passage.

“Whoa,” Richie breathed heavily when the invasion began. “There’s a lot more of you in there now.”

“And there will be even more of me inside you before we’re done. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“There’s room in there, right? For all of you?”

“Yes,” Adam acknowledged. “All of me will fit.”

Richie lifted his hips experimentally, feeling his body make hundreds of tiny, hidden adjustments to take more of Adam’s fingers. His gaze locked with Adam’s. “I want to do this.”

The older man’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.

“Say it,” Richie ordered. “I want the words.”

“I want to be inside you,” Adam responded slowly. “I see my fingers taking you, and it’s so hard to go slow. I am a patient man. I have watched as plans ten, twenty years in the making came to fruition. But I’m not sure I can wait five more minutes for you.”

“I’d like you say you didn’t have to,” Richie began...

Adam shook his head. “It takes as long as it takes,” he asserted, sliding his two fingers the rest of the way in.

“Oh, shit!” Richie cried when the digits scissored inside him. “Do that again.”

Adam did it again. In fact, he did much more than that. He stroked and stretched and teased until Richie bucked beneath him. Drowning in wave after wave of pleasure, Richie begged, cajoled, and finally ordered Adam to add a third finger.

As excited as he was, the additional stimulation caught Richie off guard. He had never taken so much inside him without being hurt. Jagged, piercing bolts of pain had always obscured whatever pleasure he might have found in the act itself. Now, however, there was joy simply in the full, taut feeling brought on by the penetration of Adam’s fingers, and the third finger made the sensation all the more acute. Adam’s fingers did not stay still, however, and the tiniest movement sent shockwaves of delight all over his body. Richie wanted to savor every new thrill, but a tide of desire swept him quickly on to the next. Only the withdrawal of Adam’s fingers kept him from being completely carried away.

“Adam, no,” Richie protested, watching as Adam prepared a fourth finger. “No more fingers.”

Adam lay the gel down immediately, nodding as he scooted a few inches away from Richie. “All right. No more.”

“Nooo,” Richie groaned. “You don’t understand. No more fingers. I want you inside me.”

“You want me? But I...”

“You, Adam. Your cock. I want to feel you inside me, the way I was inside you.”

Adam’s mind scrambled to get control over his suddenly unruly body. The urge to take Richie, to just plunge into him and the hell with everything else was overwhelming. The only thing that stopped him was the knowledge of how far they had come. Only this one final step remained, and they would take it together. Hazel eyes blazed into blue ones. “I want that, too,” he assured his partner. “I want that very much.”

They both watched as Adam’s slender fingers spread gel over the entire length of his erection. “I still can’t believe that’s going to fit inside me,” Richie said, his eyes devouring every passion-flushed inch.

“Oh, I’ll fit,” Adam drawled huskily. “It’ll be tight, but that’s the best part.”

“What are you waiting for then?” Richie asked, the suspense beginning to get to him.

“Nothing,” the older immortal assured him with a sensual grin. Positioning himself, he carefully broached the entrance to Richie’s passage. His body shook with the effort to take it slow, and the knowledge that Richie’s body welcomed him did not make it any easier. Adam clenched his jaw when Richie’s hips began shifting, instinctively seeking greater contact. He didn’t even realize he had lost part of his internal battle until the base of his shaft connected hard with Richie’s opening.

Richie’s eyes widened, and his nostrils flared as the jolt sent tongues of fire radiating through his body. “Again,” he demanded fiercely. “Do that again.”

“No, Richie,” Adam panted. “It’s too soon.”

“Now, Adam. Just like that,” Richie insisted, pulling on Adam’s body with his hands, trying to propel him back into motion.

“I might hurt you,” Adam explained, pleading for understanding.

“You’ve been so careful,” Richie argued, his chest heaving. “So slow, so gentle.” He leaned up to place light kisses on Adam’s shoulder. The kisses lengthened, then ended with the briefest contact of teeth instead of lips as Richie accused, “But you’ve been holding back. I saw your face when you moved just now. It was exactly what you wanted. Argue all you want, but you still want it.”

Adam could only growl in response, the bite sharpening the talons of lust clawing his insides.

Richie ran his hand down Adam’s chest to track the deep, passionate sound as it traveled lower. “It’s no good if you have to hold back,” he pointed out. “What good is it, if you have to be careful all the time?”

“Richie...”

“Take me, Adam. Take everything you want, or nothing at all.”

Richie watched with satisfaction as Adam’s control shattered. It was like watching a tiger break free of its chains, even though the only obvious signs were the flash of fire in Adam’s eyes and his hoarsely muttered, “As you wish.”

Released from his self-imposed restraint, Adam withdrew quickly, then thrust forward decisively. Even prepared and stretched, Richie’s passage still clung tightly to Adam’s cock. As turned on as he was, the feel of Richie’s internal muscles caressing him took him right to the brink. All that stopped him from going over was the desire to take Richie over with him. He established a rhythm of advance and retreat and discovered that his capacity to be aroused kept expanding with each stroke. The precipice which had seemed so close stayed just out of reach. He lost track of how many times he’d thrust, how deep the strokes had been, how often he’d quickened the tempo. The only thing that mattered was that Richie was completely in tune with him, automatically adjusting even after their passion had driven them beyond grace, beyond choreography.

“Adam!” Richie cried urgently. “Hurry,” he panted. “I can’t...”

Bringing his hand up between their bodies, Adam grasped Richie’s aching member firmly and pleasured it with his hand even as his shaft pleasured Richie from the inside. Three strong strokes was all it took to send the younger man over the edge. Shouting victoriously, Richie gave himself over to his orgasm. He shuddered helplessly as a stream of fluid erupted from his cock with each spasm.

The scent of Richie’s passion, the contractions of his body, brought Adam his own release. A cry began in the back of his throat and crescendoed into a loud groan as, with one final thrust, he poured himself into Richie. Each time he thought the crisis had passed, some slight movement of Richie’s body wrung another passionate shiver from him. Summoning up his last ounce of energy, he eased himself out of Richie’s body and collapsed on the bed next to him.

Richie immediately rolled over so they lay face to face. His arms reached out to pull Adam closer. Their foreheads rested together as they tried to catch their breath.

“Are we still alive?” Richie asked with a satisfied laugh.

“Barely,” Adam snickered, tilting his head to kiss Richie’s forehead, the end of his nose, and finally his lips.

One peck wasn’t enough, and Richie offered his mouth for another, then another, and eventually tiny nibbling kisses gave way to longer, more satisfying ones. Tongues tangled lazily for awhile, until Richie pulled away, smiling and licking his lips. “Mmmm,” he murmured, his head finding a comfortable spot on Adam’s shoulder. “You didn’t really want to sleep on the floor, did you?” he teased.

“No, not really,” Adam admitted, his arms going around Richie.

“Mind if I sleep here, then?” Richie yawned.

“No,” Adam whispered, feeling a surprisingly strong, indefinable tug of emotion deep inside himself.

“Good,” Richie mumbled, tumbling into a deep slumber.

For a moment Adam watched Richie sleep, but his own fatigue soon forced him to follow Richie into dreams.

The next morning Richie woke slowly, drifting in a half doze. The sun was warm on his face, and a strong arm held him comfortably against a well-muscled chest. There wasn’t anything urgent on his mental calendar, and his internal danger sensors were all quiet. All in all, Richie was inclined to snuggle deeper into the embrace he was wrapped in and go back to sleep.

That thought was enough to bring Richie fully awake. He lay motionless, his mind racing. Being ready to leave on a moment’s notice was the fundamental principle upon which he had built his life. His mind’s eye was always on the horizon, on the road ahead. He had never wanted to stay anywhere as much as he wanted to see what was over the next hill, but here he was, middle of the morning, lying in bed instead of packing.

Richie shifted enough that he could see Adam’s face. Here was the reason he could not quite summon the will to leave. He had never met anyone like Adam. Every time he thought he had the guy figured out, Adam revealed a new face, a new side of himself. Adam Pierson, stranded motorist. Adam Pierson, suave Englishman. Dr. Adam Pierson, med school professor. Then he had been just Adam, a skilled, generous lover.

Richie knew that he had been different, too. He had left Phoenix as the street-smart, cynical con man he knew himself to be. In Kate’s garage he had seen a glimpse of an average, well-adjusted, twenty-something guy that was into old cars. Here in the hacienda he had become Richard Ryan, a preppy, well-educated med student. Somehow he and Adam had talked for hours in the restaurant, despite their different backgrounds. In bed, the con man had taken a backseat to a teasing, passionate person that Richie had never imagined existed. For the first time, Richie wondered if he knew himself at all.

Taking care not to wake Adam, Richie slipped out of bed and began to dress. He froze when the figure on the bed rolled over, flinging an arm over the side of the bed, but he relaxed when there was no further movement. He had to get out of here. Nothing made sense anymore, and he had to find a way to put it all together. As connected as he felt to Adam in this moment, as much as he wanted to stay, Richie could feel the road calling him. Not the same road he’d rode in on, but still one he had to travel alone. For now, anyway.

Shrugging into his jacket, Richie cast one last look back at Adam’s sleeping form. He paused next to the table where Adam had sat the night before, noticing that Adam had left his wallet and glasses lying there. Old instincts rose, telling him how much easier his journey would be with a little more cash. With a resigned sigh he banished the thought. He took two steps towards the door, turned and made a blind grab from the table, and then completed his exit.

When the door closed behind Richie, Adam eased his hand off of his sword hilt. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but it wasn’t Richie sneaking off without a word.

Without a word, but with my wallet, Adam groused to himself, throwing the covers back angrily and stalking over to the table. Glaring down at what he expected to be a spot of bare table, Adam was surprised to see a brown leather wallet lying right where he had left it.

What did he take? Adam wondered. He replayed the night’s events in his mind, trying to remember what else he had left on the table. When he realized what was missing, a smile curved his lips. The glasses, he laughed to himself. Richie took the glasses.

Adam heard the roar of a motorcycle engine and walked to the window in time to see Richie ride out of the parking lot. Until we meet again, he told the figure speeding down the road. Until we meet again.

Faster, Faster
Cheap and Evil Girl
Bree Sharp

The leather boots I was born in
Are tattered, torn out, and worn in
My skin is cracked as the desert ground.

The dusty road that’s ahead will
Be my board and my bed til
What I am looking for is found

And yesterday is right behind me like a loaded gun
So I’m racing towards the horizon

Faster, faster I’m a trashy motorcycle beauty
The road is all I’ve ever known.
Faster, faster, I’m the star in this disaster movie
And in the end I ride alone.

Ride alone.
I dig my heels in the gravel
Rig my gear up for travel
I swig a taste of my whiskey or gin

I met a sucker on Sunday
I took his wallet on Monday
Then I was out on the road again

And yesterday is right behind me like a loaded gun
So I’m racing towards the horizon

Faster, faster I’m a trashy motorcycle beauty
The road is all I’ve ever known.
Faster, faster I’m the star of this disaster movie
And in the end I ride alone.

Ride alone.
And yesterday is right behind me like a loaded gun
So I’m racing towards the horizon

Faster, faster I’m a trashy motorcycle beauty
The road is all I’ve ever known.
Faster, faster, I’m the star of this disaster movie
And in the end I ride alone.

Ride alone. Ride alone.
Ride alone. Ride alone.
Ride alone.

© 2001 Nikki Memmott