Title: MMOM 07 – New Life
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, the real people in it are used without their permission and I definitely don't own them or have any copyright to any part of any of them. I do not believe any of this happened, is likely to happen or should happen it is simply a story created around known facts about those involved.
Warnings: semi-explicit sex, language
Summary: Richie has a new life well away from his old one and no one from the old one knows he's alive, that is, until a face from the past walks in.
Author's Notes: Well today was supposed to be a TH day, but then this hit me as I was walking to Tesco's yesterday and demanded I write it, so TH will have to wait until tomorrow :). Thanks to Soph for the beta.
Word count: 3,317
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Richie walked into the bar and felt several pairs of eyes turn towards him to check him out. Since it was a gay singles bar he wasn't exactly surprised and he gave Marlene, the owner, a wave and walked fully into the establishment. Marlene was a six foot four ex-hockey player who like to wear a dress and no one argued with him.
"Good evening, Sweets," Marlene greeted him as he sat down, "and what can I get for you this evening."
"I'm feeling flamboyant," he replied with a grin, "so something artistic."
He had never been a cocktail type of guy in his old life, but Marlene loved to make them and so he made sure to at least start off the evening with one or two. The club was out of the way and open all night, so Richie always came in to relax after a hard evening. Being one of the most exclusive male escorts in the city might have seemed like a breeze to many, but smiling all the time and being gentlemanly required a lot of effort. Sex didn't come as part of the package, but he had been known to favour some of his regular clients, which was why he spent most of his free time away from the ladies. He had discovered there was such a case as too much of a good thing.
It had taken him over a year to dip his toe into the actually picking up another guy part of the scene in the club, but he hadn't been disappointed. These days he sometimes picked someone up or let himself be picked up, and sometimes he didn't. Right about then he was seriously considering looking out for a potential playmate.
"You look tired, Sweets," Marlene commented, placing a tall blue drink with lots of fruit and umbrellas in front of him.
"Charity ball," he replied and then took a long slow drink through the offered straw, "I thought the speeches would never end."
Marlene patted him on the hand.
"That's what comes of being so top shelf, Sweets," the barman told him, "but you just sit there and we'll find a way to help you relax."
He smiled to himself as he saw Marlene give someone the eye from across the room. The bar had two types of patrons, the regulars and those just passing through, and the regulars were all at least acquaintances if not friends. That was why he wasn't surprised when a lean body leant against his own.
"Hey, Rich," said a familiar soft voice, "need a little companionship."
He looked round to the young man purring in his ear. Emanuel was a dancer and made extra cash working at Marlene's place when between jobs. Since he wasn't between jobs at the moment, he wasn't working, but they all seemed to end up in the bar sooner or later. Richie had made it to the bedroom with Emanuel on a couple of occasions and it was an intriguing prospect.
"Emi," he said, using the pet name he knew drove Emanuel completely mental, "I think..."
His train of thought was completely scattered when he felt the familiar tingle behind his eyes and he scanned the room for an exit. Ever since Paris, where he had watched Mac cut off his head, he had avoided all Immortals. It hadn't really been him, but it had kind of snapped something in his psyche and he had run. That was when he had fallen just about as hard as it was possible to fall; he'd been into drink and drugs and just about anything that kept the nightmares away. If he hadn't been locked up for petty theft he would probably still have been in the hole he had dug himself. As it was a short stay in a juvenile facility thanks to his young looks and the fact that Richie Ryan was officially dead and his juvenile records sealed so they had had no idea who he was or how old he was, helped him sort himself out. He was Richard Milan now, having completely reinvented himself, and he had a sword and was quite capable of using it, but made it his business to make sure he never met anyone he needed to use it with.
"Rich are you okay?" Emanuel asked as Richie realised there was no way he could get out of the club without being seen.
"Yeah," he said, realising he had no choice but to stay put.
Hopefully the immortal was just looking for a drink, not a fight and he could fade into the background before he was properly noticed. He had discovered in his new life that Immortals most often preferred to avoid each other, it seemed to just be ones like Mac who attracted trouble.
"Sorry, I thought I heard something," he said and managed a smile for Emanuel; "I think my brain addled this evening."
Emanuel smiled at him as Richie kept half an eye on the door.
The person who walked through it almost made him fall off his stool.
"Well, well, and I told MacLeod he was losing it," said the familiar figure.
"Adam," Richie said in shock, since this was the last place he had ever expected to see Methos again.
"Right," Emanuel said and Richie could see his friend looking between him and Methos, "I see, well I'll just be over here if you need me, Rich."
"Yeah, thanks," Richie said absently, slowly standing up and looking the blast from the past up and down.
Adam had changed hardly at all, except for his hair style, otherwise he still looked like a grad student type in jeans and a t-shirt.
"Marlene," he said, looking over his shoulder, "can you put that on my tab for me, I'll settle up Friday."
"Sure, Sweets," Marlene told him with a smile and given that the man didn't try and persuade him to stay with his new friend he came to the conclusion that the tension was as obvious to everyone else as it was to him.
"Let's walk," he said, deciding that action was better than standing there like an idiot, and then he swept out of the club without waiting for Methos to catch up.
He soon found that Methos' long legs meant the old man was not far behind him.
"How did you find me?" he asked, since it was clear Methos had known he was alive. "For that matter how did you even know to look?"
"Macleod saw a fleeting glimpse of you in a society rag," Methos replied, completely calm in comparison to the way Richie's mind was racing. "I convinced him he was seeing things and then came to check."
Richie stopped and gave Methos a glare for that.
"And you couldn’t have just let me be?" he asked, since he had been enjoying his nice quiet life.
"I was curious," Methos said with no sign of remorse. "That time was, shall we say, difficult for us all and I wanted to know if it was possible you survived."
"Yeah, well I did," Richie replied, trying to figure a way out of his current situation, "only my life wasn't much worth living for a long time and I have no intention of going back to what drove me there."
Methos raised an eyebrow at his vehement outburst.
"I don't blame you," was the surprising response, "being around the Highlander is taxing. Not that he wouldn't cull several hundred fatted calves if the prodigal son were to return of course."
Richie just glared some more; he didn't need to be reminded of that. Not going back once he had sorted himself out was one of the hardest decisions he had ever made.
"Then why are you here, if not to drag me back?" he asked, not understanding Methos' motives at all.
"I told you, I was curious," Methos replied and grinned. "Life does occasionally get boring you know."
Since Richie really couldn't imagine having been alive as long as Methos, all he could do was agree that it must get boring at times.
"So you're not going to tell Mac I'm alive?" he still wasn't sure of Methos' motives.
"Nope," the ancient man replied, "but you could be a little hospitable and offer an old friend a drink. A beer really wouldn't go amiss."
For a moment that rather stunned Richie. It was clear Methos had come a very long way to find him and now all the man wanted was a drink.
"You're odd," he finally concluded, since he couldn't think of anything else to say, "but my apartment's this way."
It took then fifteen minutes to get there, then five to find and open the beer and another five to sit down, which is when they began talking. It wasn't until that point that Richie realised how much he had missed the familiar faces of the old crowd.
"So how is it I found you in a gay bar with a pretty young thing pawing you?" Methos asked when they were on beer three each.
"Because I was about to bring the pretty young thing home and fuck him senseless," Richie replied, seeing no point in being subtle about it.
Methos actually raised his eyebrows at that.
"Let me get this straight," Methos said with a grin, "you, that would be 'Mr I'm straighter than MacLeod', are a gigolo by trade and screw gay boys in your spare time?"
That made Richie laugh, since it was a rather accurate description.
"I got bored," was all he really had to say on the matter.
"I've been hoping our Highlander would get bored sooner of later," Methos said and took a big swig of beer, "only he seems so tediously heterosexual."
That made Richie laugh again, because that was also an accurate description.
"Give him another hundred years and he'll probably get over it," he replied, still chuckling.
That Methos had been looking to get in Mac's pants didn't overly surprise him now that he was used to the other side of the coin. The fact that Mac was oblivious was very amusing.
"This is MacLeod we're talking about," Methos said and laughed as well, "maybe a millennium."
Richie lifted his bottle in a toast to that one.
"But I spoiled your plans for this evening," Methos said after a companionable few minutes silence, "I should apologise."
Now it was Richie's turn to lift his eyebrows.
"And exactly how did you plan on doing that?" he asked, since he was sure Methos would have not even mentioned it if the ancient Immortal didn't have something in mind.
Methos smiled at him; a very worrying smile, and put his bottle of beer on the table.
"Oh, I don't know," Methos said, already on the move, "I was thinking I'd improvise."
That made Richie smirk as well; he'd done some "improvising" in his time. This could be very interesting indeed.
He just sat there as Methos all but prowled the distance between them and then Methos leant over him like some gigantic hawk. When their eyes met, Richie could see the age in the other man; he could almost feel it and with the heat in that gaze, he found it arousing to be the focus of so much knowledge.
"Just let me know if I'm improvising in the wrong direction," Methos said and reached out towards him.
Nimble fingers made quick work of his fly and efficiently opened his jeans as far as they would go.
"Um," he said as Methos took hold of his already swelling cock and carefully pulled it from its confines, "no complaints yet."
This was the kind of thing he had been hoping for with Emanuel, before the fucking sensless that was, and he really didn't mind that Methos was taking Emanuel's place. The other Immortal was nice to look at and if what they said about men and noses was right, he was very much looking forward to act two. Being perpetually nineteen he had a libido set on 'on' and sex was more of a necessity than a pastime. When Methos slowly sank to his knees, Richie decided Christmas had come early and shifted a little in the chair to give his companion better access.
There was a lot to be said for experience and in the thousands of years Methos had been alive, Richie was sure Methos had had a lot of sex. As soon as those lips wrapped round his cock, he was absolutely positive.
"Oh fuck!" he said quite loudly and then just gave up and let Methos remove his brains through his cock.
Richie couldn't quite put his finger on what made the blowjob so incredible, whether is was the way Methos used his tongue, or the way Methos sucked so damn hard at just the right moment, or the way Methos' fingers slid into his underwear to play with his balls, but whatever it was, it was mind blowing. Given the people he hung around with in his spare time, he'd had a blow job or two and given his fair share, but he had never had one like the one Methos gave him. About halfway through he forgot his own name and towards the end he forgot what language actually was. By the time Methos let him come, he was so desperate he was reduced to pleading in moans and breathless pants and, when his orgasm broke over him, he was not too proud to admit that his visions whited out and he might just have lost contact with reality for a little while.
To say he was blissed out would have been an understatement and he kept shuddering and bucking for a good thirty seconds before his nerves stopped singing. It was amazing and it felt as if every molecule in his body had changed to liquid. So much so that, when he finally opened his eyes, all he could do was look into the somewhat smug features of his new lover.
"Nghhhh," was what came out of his mouth when he tried to say something.
"You're welcome," was what Methos replied and Richie just acquiesced when the ancient Immortal started to undress him.
Interesting was an understatement.
Richie opened his eyes and squinted at the sunlight coming in his bedroom window. It was far too bright and high in the sky to be early morning, so he had to conclude that he had slept very well after the several hours of mind blowing sex. Methos had shown him quite a few things he had never thought of before.
As it turned out, he was sprawled on half of his bed with no cover and no clothes. When he shifted slightly, he found out why, since Methos was on the other side of the bed rolled in the sheets like he owned them. Given the great sex, Richie decided that having a cover hog in his bed was worth the price, but now that he was awake he was a little chilly. Methos was still snoring gently, so Richie moved quietly and climbed off of the bed, grabbing a robe and padding towards the kitchen. Coffee sounded like a very good idea in his head.
The major advantage of being Immortal, other than the fact that he couldn't die, was that even after what he suspected was nearly three hours of sex, he could still walk straight. His muscles didn't even ache thanks to his healing abilities, he was just a little tired.
Looking at his kitchen, he had the wonderful idea of making breakfast and taking it into the other room. If he didn't let Methos out of the bedroom he was hoping that the old man would get the idea and give him a tour of the mattress again. He didn't have any clients today and staying in bed was a great plan; all he had to do was convince Methos.
Smiling to himself, he made coffee and toast and gathered fruit and preserves and other good things onto a tray and took them back into the bedroom. It turned out Methos wasn't in any hurry to get up, or so it seemed, since Methos was already awake and sitting up waiting for him.
"Ah," Methos said with a broad smile, "great minds think alike."
"Well I didn't want you to waste energy on moving further than you had to," Richie replied and deposited the tray on the bed, before sitting down. "A little something to build our strength back up," he added with a grin, "and then I'd really like you to show me that trick where you had me so tuned on I almost lost the ability to breathe."
"The one with the fingers and the twist?" Methos asked mildly, picking up one of the mugs of coffee.
"Yeah, that's the one," Richie replied and tucked into his own breakfast.
"Mark Anthony taught me that one," Methos said in an almost wistful tone and Richie wasn't sure whether to believe him or now. "Shame that he ended up chasing so much skirt, he was very talented as a young man."
Richie just grinned and continued to eat, since he didn't quite know what to say about that. They chatted about ridiculous things as they ate and it wasn't until Richie was about to clear away the breakfast things that he saw Methos' expression become a little more serious.
"Would you ever consider coming back," Methos asked him, completely out of the blue, "even just for a visit?"
It was a bit of a shock since they had carefully avoided that subject since their conversation on the street the night before, but Richie did not just say no, even though he considered it. The previous evening, before he had seen Methos, he was sure he would have given a categorical negative, but being with an old friend again had awakened some of the old feelings.
"When I ran I hit rock bottom," he said quietly, after thinking about it for a while. "I went through so many things while with Mac, but seeing him kill me broke part of my mind. I spent two years just trying to forget everything using any substance I could lay my hands on. It's amazing someone didn't come along and take my head just to put me out of my misery. I honestly don't know if I could handle going back."
"You actually saw him do it?" Methos sounded startled.
"A lot of that day's hazy, actually a lot of that day and the next two years is hazy," he replied, a little relieved to be able to share his secrets, "but I remember that. I met someone on the street, I think it must have been ... him," he shivered as he thought of the demon that had nearly done for them all, "and then I remember seeing Mac take the head of a person who looked like me. After that there was just running."
Methos was looking at him very seriously now.
"No wonder you don't want to go back," was the ancient man's opinion on the matter.
He gave Methos a small smile for understanding.
"Well enough of deep matters," Methos said after they fell into silence for a while, "I feel the need for a work out. Are you legs feeling strong?"
Richie laughed and moved the breakfast things onto the dresser.
"Strong enough," he replied and found himself tackled and thrown on the bed.
Methos might have been tall and wiry, but he was strong with it.
"Just remember," Methos said as the older immortal pinned him to the bed, "you'll always be welcome."
Richie nodded once and then Methos had his robe undone and thinking wasn't an option anymore.