Every Rose Has A Thorn: Spin The Bottle

Spin the Bottle
By: Arsenic

Rating: NC-17 ((ADULT))

Keywords: X-Over, X-files/HL

Disclaimers: Ratboy belongs to Fox, Ten Thirteen and Chris Carter. The old man is Rysher/Panzer/Davis property.

Warnings: HERE THERE BE SLASH!!! If you aren't into this scene, or are breaking state laws by reading this, please don't.

Authors notes: This takes place sometime after the HL episode "One Minute to Midnight" and between the X-files episodes Anasazi and Piper Maru. (It's a time warp, deal.) Asterisks denote thoughts, // denote emphasis.

Dedications: Kudos to Talisa for the lyrics and to Equanimity for the forwarding action. Thanks to Dana for listening to me bitch and not turning me out onto the streets of NY. This is for Cinnabon (hehe), whom, it seems of late, is my inspiration for everything. I know this is your perfect set up...all for you, love.

Now, on to the real thing...


The man sighed and considered the bar signs crammed in next to each other. He stared speculatively and decided on one where the entire neon sign still glowed. Not that it really mattered. People in Hong Kong just didn't know how to do beer. He had to get himself back to Germany...He shook his head and headed towards the chosen spot.

He'd been surprised to find himself heading here. He hadn't been east in....at least a couple of centuries. No particular reason, it was just so far, and say what you would about modern technology, he wasn't that big a fan of airplanes. But it's distance had been a major benefit this time. That and the fact that there had been a convenient flight at the time of his decision to go on the impromptu "vacation."

On his third day there he had decided it hadn't been such a bad idea. Of course, it would have been better if he could have stopped thinking about why he had packed an overnight bag and headed half-way across the world. Finding yourself again was never an easy mission, especially after five thousand years. He shoved the wrist that still bore the deep blue markings on it deep into his pocket and used the other hand to push open the door to the bar.

He waited for an instant while his eyes adjusted and surveyed the bar for a place to sit. He almost laughed at what he saw. The only men in the bar who weren't glancing at him with interest were those who had found their playmate for the night. *Whoa, wasn't aware my Cantonese had gotten that bad.* He shrugged inwardly. Whatever, gay bar or straight, as long as he could get drunk enough not to have to think about things. Methos' eyes fell on someone who wasn't checking him out and headed over to where the man sat. He wasn't looking for conversation.

Sitting down he looked up at the beer selection and sighed. He had to control a jump when the man next to him decided to speak up.

"The Tsingtao almost passes for decent." Methos looked at the source of the voice. The man at his left was about his height, but it had obviously been awhile since his last decent meal. Dark hair was finger brushed raggedly back from his forehead. Aware he was being stared at, Alex Krycek turned wary green eyes Methos' direction and didn't bother to mask his open perusal. Then without another word the man turned back to his beer and tipped his head back, grimacing as the liquid hit his taste buds. "On second thought..."

Methos gave a soft laugh. Intrigued, he made an offer he wasn't aware he was going to make until he heard the words hit air.

"How does a glass of Shaoshing wine sound?"

"You seem to have some illusions about the kind of establishment we are patrons of at the moment." Another swallow.

"Illusions are something I have pitifully few of." Those eyes, tired and yet still emanating danger, snapped up to meet placid hazel ones. He nodded once.

"Yeah." Both men understood. Yeah, I'll go with you. Yeah, I understand that. *No, kid, you //think// you understand.* Methos shook his head at himself. *You're the man leaving the bar with him. Shit, you offered to pay for the drinks.* Yeah, well, undernourished or not, he hadn't seen a body like that in far too long. *And besides, what better way to lose yourself than sex?*


Methos didn't bother trying to figure out what possessed him to spring not only for the wine but for a whole three course meal at one of the city's nicer restaurants. He just knew that watching the other man devour all three courses, he wasn't regretting the impulse. After appetizers Methos extended his hand across the table.

"Will." The other man nodded and wiped his fingers on the napkin in his lap. Grasping his hand he answered.

"David." Methos smirked inwardly with the innate knowledge that they were both lying. Not that the other man gave any indication, the fact was just there. Not that he cared. Better that way. Emotions and truths, no matter how trivial, were sticky.

"You have good taste," David nodded at the wine glass in his hand. Methos smiled. After that, conversation was easy. Wine is always a good way to begin talking. The topic flowed into music, a topic in which the two men had a surprising amount in common on. Methos wondered if "David" was lying about that too, shaping himself to what he thought "Will" wanted. He didn't think so. Not that he thought his dining partner incapable. His eyes just gave away more than they were probably supposed to when he got excited.

Over two hours after they had sat down Methos charged the meal and the two men got up to leave. He didn't bother asking whose place they were going to, just hailed a taxi and gave him the address of the hotel he was in at the moment. He heard a low whistle next to him.

"Nice." Methos nodded in agreement, he had picked one of the premier hotels in the city. He had wanted to shed the Adam Pierson persona anyway, knowing that whoever he was, it wasn't a mild-mannered grad student. With the name had gone the financial restrictions. William Fitch could afford just about anything he so chose to. So it was that he found himself leading the other man up to his top-floor suite. It had been extravagant, Methos had been a little surprised when he had requested it, but he had been feeling the urge to indulge himself lately. The look in those eyes upon seeing the nighttime view was worth it.

Unaware that he had already given his awe away, David forced himself to saunter lazily toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. Methos let him stare for a moment before coming up behind him. He stood so that David could feel his breath brushing across his neck, no part of them touching. A nearly invisible shudder passed through the man in front of him.

"I should get cleaned up." Methos was pretty sure that if he had been any less experienced he would have come just listening to that voice, slightly huskier than usual with a kind of expectant lust. He made himself think about the words that had been said. Cleaned up, right.

"Stay here." David didn't question his softly-voiced command, just nodded. Methos went into the bathroom to get some things in order. Ten minutes later he returned to the main room. At some point David had moved to the couch and was dozing lightly. No more than a second after his arrival David's eyes flew open, momentary panic and disorientation turning them a midnight-dark green. His gaze settled on Methos and the normative calm came back over him. *I don't even want to know what he does for a living.*

Methos walked until he was standing over the other man. He brought his hands down and slipped them inside the soft leather of an obviously well broken in jacket. He slid it back off of David's arms and laid it on the couch next to them. His fingers cruised downwards until they were just barely inside the rim of the other man's jeans. He curled them around the white t-shirt and pulled it up, over David's head. He leaned back and looked at the well-toned upper-body strength appreciatively. He crouched down and unlaced the black boots, pulling them and the socks below off. He was trying to remember the last time he had undressed a man. With women, it was pro for the course, something you just did. David looked like he could use a little bit of build up, though. Methos wondered when the last time anyone had treated the kid with consideration was. *Nevermind, not your issue, problem or care.*

"C'mon, the water'll get cold." He stood up and took David's hand in his, tugging him off the couch. Methos used his free hand while they were walking to undo the top few buttons of his shirt. They reached the bathroom and Methos pulled his other hand from the grasp, crossing his arms and pulling the top off. David looked at him with eyes now smoldering a kind of smoky green, extended his right arm and pulled Methos to him by the waistband on his jeans. Nimble fingers undid the button and pushed the pants down to where Methos stepped out of them. David raised an eyebrow at the midnight blue boxers.

"Silk?" Methos shrugged.

"Comfy." With that he returned the favor of unbuttoning David's jeans for him a let them fall next to his own discarded pair. Each man hooked his finger inside the elastic of the other man's boxers and tugged them down to join the other clothes strewn about the floor. They took a moment to look at each other, letting it be known that they approved of what they saw. Methos turned slightly and stepped into the large tub. He slowly lowered himself into water that was still giving off steam and closed his eyes. David's first step in the tub made the water ripple softly. Methos waited for the man to ease himself in before reaching over to pull him onto his body. Placing his hands on shoulders with just a bit too much bone definition, Methos pushed the younger man under the water for a couple of second and released his hold letting him rise to the surface. Reaching to the side of the bath he grabbed the small, hotel-provided bottle and began pouring shampoo into his palm. He replaced the bottle and began sudsing the dark, almost blue when wet, ragged locks. David gasped softly at the sensations of the massage. Methos gave a small smile. This was not a man who was used to being given pleasure.

He finished washing the thick hair and slowly dunked David again, rinsing. When he came back up, Methos was prepared, soaped washcloth in hand.

"Stand up." The order was a whisper in David's ear. He shivered despite the still heated temperature of the water. He obeyed. Methos stood too, raising the washcloth to follow the almost-fragile lines of bone at David's neck. He worked his way down slowly, paying particular attention to the nipples and the back of his knees, ignoring the groin area. He wet the washcloth and began to retrace all the areas he had just visited, washing away the bubbles. When he was done he threw the cloth away, staying on his knees where he had sunk to in order to finish the job. He raised his arms to grab David's hips, steadying the younger man. His mouth opened to envelope one of the lemon-sized balls and he was glad he had grabbed hold when the other man practically jumped out of the tub. Methos ignored the movement and sucked lightly for a few minutes, alternating between sacs. When David was barely breathing, Methos moved his head back to nip at the head of his cock. David whimpered. Methos pursed his lips and blew lightly over the super-sensitized penis. David grabbed Methos' hair and pulled his face forcefully into his groin. Methos laughed and gave into him. He opened his mouth and swallowed the entirety of the younger man's cock.

Keeping one hand firmly planted on David's hipbone, Methos reached up with the other to play with David's nipples, rubbing them between his thumb and pointer finger until a light flick had David shrieking. Methos attempted to smile wickedly around the cock in his mouth and drew all the way back to the head only to plunge all the way down again. David gave a sharp cry at this and came.

Methos waited until the other man's breathing was re-approaching normal parameters and withdrew from the now-limp penis. Standing up, he practically pulled David with him and proceeded to dry them both with the same plush towel. By the time he was done David had regained the facilities to tie the towel handed to him around his waist. He looked down and stared pointedly at the physical evidence that Methos hadn't come in the recent escapade.

"I have plans, worry not."

"Plans are good." Methos smiled at the slight breathlessness still evident. His cock twitched. Oh yeah, plans are good. He lead the way into the bedroom, swiping a bottle of hand lotion from the counter on his way out of the bathroom. When they reached the bedroom he was surprised at being shoved lightly onto the bed and pinned there by a now-fully-recovered David. The younger man wasted no time, stealing the lotion bottle from Methos' semi-relaxed grip.

"On second thought, fuck plans, I want you now." Methos thought about this statement for all of a nanosecond before deciding that it was just fine with him. David opened the bottle and poured a liberal amount into his palm, spreading it between his hands. When it began to feel warm he wrapped his hand around Methos' now-aching cock. Methos hissed, tensing under the soft grip.

"Relax." David's eyes glowed that particular shade that only mockery can produce.

"Bastard." David's eyes lost a little of their luster. Knowing the futility of wishing you could take something back, Methos distracted him by bucking himself up into the other man's hold. He pawed around on the bed until he found what he was searching for and poured some of the lotion out onto his hands. When the lotion had achieved skin temperature Methos ran the tips of his fingers up and down David's shaft. He started to harden almost immediately and Methos thanked every known and forgotten god for the sexual stamina of younger men.

Methos squirmed a bit, trying to get out from underneath David and open his legs wider for better access. David brought a slippery hand down on his chest to hold him in place. Still straddling the older man, David kneeled up and slowly lowered himself onto the cock still held by him. He let go and let himself slide down to the base. Methos panted in shock and pleasure. *Okay, not what I had planned, but good. Good? Note to self: vocabulary during sex not particularly impressive or accurate.* All thoughts following that one were of a much less lucid nature.

Methos grabbed his partners hips and shifted him so that in the course of the next thrust his penis scraped firmly past the prostate. David screamed. Methos brought one hand to David's cock and began to pump in roughly the same rhythm that the two of them thrust up and down in. Methos fought the bubbling urgency in him, wanting to wait for the man who rode him, but he had waited all night...

He screamed as he came, harsh and unbelieving. He'd forgotten this particular sensation, pure, overwhelming lust tinged in ecstasy. He started to come down and noticed David finishing up, spreading thick cum over the both of them. When both men were done, David collapsed on the bed next to an equally limp Methos.

Methos recovered first, sauntering to the bathroom for a washcloth and some water. He rinsed himself down and crossed back into the bedroom to do the same for David. When he was finished he brought his hand up to the other man's forehead, soothing back the damp black hair. Later, he told himself it was the eyes that made him do what he did next; that faint look of a child who has gotten lost in a large amusement park. Whatever it was, he leaned over placing his limps to those of the man beneath him. Slowly, seductively, he initiated a kiss. At first it was just a mutual exploration of each other's lips. Methos took David's groan as a good sign and slipped his tongue less than an inch into the mouth connected to his.

Suddenly Methos found himself on the floor, having landed there rather hard. He looked up at the man who had shoved him back with a not-altogether surprising brutality.

"What the hell?"

"Look man...straight up, what do you hope to learn about here?" He pulled himself upright. "I mean, I don't know what you want, but this is just a fuck." He paused to breath, the heavy near-panicked breathing belying the words. "Granted, it came with a nice dinner-"

"Is that why the kiss scared you shitless?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm going to have a bruise on my bum for weeks." Okay, so not precisely true, but had he been mortal it would have been.

"Sorry man, look, I'll just grab my stuff and get-" Methos grabbed the man by the ankle as he passed by on his way to carry out the intended mission. David went down and Methos smiled.

"Payback's a bitch." With that his mouth was back where it had been minutes before. His tongue was plunging deep into the warmth of David's mouth when he tasted salt. He backed away, watching the younger man wipe hastily at his eyes. When David found the courage to look up it was at slightly contrite eyes. *Who the hell //are// you? First you set one of your own kind up, then you leave Mac to deal with the aftermath of that action and Joe, so you can go //find// yourself,* Methos practically winced at the nineties psychobabble, *then, in what may quite possibly be your crowning achievement in all of this, you pick up a guy at a bar for a quick screw and you like the way he looks when you treat him gently, so you //completely// ignore his desires and practically force "kindness" on him.*

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean..." *You didn't mean //what//, asswipe?* He began to stand and almost lost his balance when he felt a hand fall softly on his.

"Look, this-well, this seemed like a good trade off for some food and a couple of hours in a nice place, you know? I think maybe you've been there, don't ask me why." He didn't look up, as if worried to find ridicule in the older man's eyes. "I don't usually do the kissing scene with sex...they aren't about the same thing."

"No." Methos shook his head in agreement.

"It just made me wonder..." he laughed, trying desperately to hide the bitterness. It was good, anyone else wouldn't have caught on.

"I went into that bar looking for a drink." He emphasized the last word. David's eyes snapped up, a mixture of wary distrust, loneliness and confusion that made Methos, for reasons he didn't care to explore, long to reach out and soothe away what remained of the moisture on his face.

"Yeah?" It was half statement, half question. Methos threw his head to the left.

"That bed is really too big for just one person...if you haven't got anywhere you need to be, I was thinking..." David glanced at a non-existent wrist-watch.

"Not at the moment." With a nod, Methos climbed the rest of the way up and extended his hand to the man still on the floor. Wearily, both men found their way onto the bed. When they were both settled under layers of fluff and linen, David spoke softly.

"Just out of curiosity, what the hell is a rich beer-connoisseur doing in Hong Kong?"

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