THE BED

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PG-13 M/M relationship implied....nope, this one is sweet, not sexy!!
(Okay, it's a *little* sexy.) No angst, no violence, just furniture and accessories. That PWP Frame of Mind has crept over me....Mac & Methos aren't mine, never were, never can be and I am not making any money on this.

Part One

        "Tell me you are kidding," MacLeod murmured softly and with a groan as his partner moved away to let his fingers slide across the deep dark wood. "Not quite my style."
       "Are you trying to tell me you are not a romantic, Mac?" Methos grinned. "It is beautiful workmanship."
       "I won't argue that, but -- a four-poster bed in the loft? What? You want bed drapes as well?"
      Methos hesitated, his lips twitching in barely surppressed laughter. "Provides an enormous amount of privacy," he offered. "For those awkward times when our...friends...come barging in."
       "Who never embarrass you, anyway," Mac said sourly, but his eyes did sweep over the lines of the bed. The workmanship was incredible, the detailing exquisite, appealing to the antiquarian in him even if the pragmatist shied away violently. He dropped his voice as other browsers came by to examine the piece of furniture as well, noting it on their auction cards. Left alone once more, Methos twisted and sat, wrapping his arms around one of the massive posts and sliding his fingers along the highly polished wood gently.
       "There's nothing even slightly feminine about this..." Methos murmured, eyes dancing as he caught Mac watching his hands. His finger tips were fluttering lightly against the wood, then closing tightly. Mac swore and glared at him, glancing around to make sure no one was watching as he caught the slim wrists to stop the beguiling movement. Methos leaned in, pressing cheek and chest against the pillar, his hands resting lightly in Mac's. He stretched against the rise of wood and Mac found his breath starting to shallow out at the slight but sensuous movement.
       "It will look ridiculous," Mac hissed.
       "Very likely," Methos said with a grin.
       "It's a double, not a king," Mac argued.
       "Then we'll just have to sleep closer together, won't we?" Methos laughed softly, shifting again to rise to his knees, body still pressed against the dark wood, bracing his hands on the column. Mac stepped in closer, another furtive glance cast at the sparse but present crowd.
       "You keep that up and we'll find out if it is as sturdy as it looks, right now," he whispered. The color in the Highlander's cheeks was high, the eyes darkening in both annoyance and desire.
       "One should always test drive the merchandise," Methos said with another muffled laugh and got to his feet, ostensibly to check the top framing. Tall as he was, he still had to stretch to reach the cross-bars, balancing carefully on the edge of the covered mattress and reaching, The twist of his hips and the arch of his back as he checked the fittings was enough to make MacLeod's mouth go dry. Methos faltered once on the uneven footing and Mac steadied him, hands resting briefly but firmly on the slender hips. With MacLeod steadying him, Methos stretched higher, hip and groin flexing slightly toward MacLeod. "Dove-tailed joints, Mac. They are perfectly fitted together," Methos said, finishing his inspection.
       "Christ..." Mac murmured as his partner moved again, climbing down. His brain on other things fitting together that had nothing to do with carpentry. Methos ignored him but Mac didn't miss the sparkle in the hazel eyes. Methos was an absolute demon for subtle innuendo and flirtation. The elder Immortal was quickly becoming as aroused as Mac was. It wasn't the keys in Methos' pocket that were making his jeans fit so tightly, although at the moment Mac would have traded places with those keys in a heartbeat.
      Walking to the end of the bed, Methos checked the stability of the poster, stretching his arms out to either side and pressing, the muscles of his back clearly defined under the thin ribbed-cotton shirt he wore as he pressed against the wood. "Left one feels a bit loose," he said and stepped back. "See what you think," he suggested in a voice so low with invitation Mac's breath caught. Whatever game the other man was playing was too enthralling to deny and Mac also set his strength to the posts and did indeed feel the left one give a bit -- weakened joint, no doubt. Easily fixed. Then Methos was right behind him, low voice in his ear.
       "Now, think of yourself on your knees facing the end of the bed, gripping those posts while I move behind you," came the murmur and Mac felt the slight press of Methos hands on his lower back. "You hold on tight while I touch you, kiss you, massage your back."
      He fell silent, moving away slightly to check the strength of the foot board while Mac held on for dear life as other viewers came by. He smiled at them tightly and moved, to grip the left post, trying to get his breathing and his body back under control. His jeans were uncomfortably tight and the demon he called his lover had the audacity to suddenly lay back across the end of the bed and stare up at him innocently.
       "Of course, if we don't like it, you can always sell it at Pauline's shop with your other pieces," Methos said and stretched.
      There were people coming and MacLeod cared not at all as he dropped swiftly, bracing his arms on either side of Methos' taut chest. Let the other auctioneers think they were demented interior designers -- Mac had not a thought in his head other than his partner, who looked ready to take a nap right there. Or maybe not a nap, he amended, the half opened hazel eyes looking anything but sleepy at the moment.
      Mac's mouth closed over his lover's and he actually had the delight of seeing Methos' eyes widen as the public claim startled him. Surprised or not there was nothing hesitant in the kiss as it was returned in full force for all its brief duration. "So. Where does one get bed drapes for a monster like this?" he asked with a grin.
       "Oh, I think we can find something suitable," Methos said, pushing himself up. Mac gave way only a little, leaving but a few inches of space between them. "There were some nice tapestries in one of the other lots. Add some braided silk tie-backs--" he chuckled as Mac dropped his head against his lover's chest with a groan.
       "Planning to tie me up?" Mac asked softly.
       "It crossed my mind," Methos teased turning his head slightly to nip at his lover's ear. "Depends on how much difficulty I have getting you into this bed."
      Mac surrendered. "We buy this bed we may never get out of it again," he murmured.
       "Suits me," the low baritone rumbled, the vibration going directly to Mac's groin.
      It was with effort that MacLeod pulled himself away before he did something that would ease the growing ache and likely get them both tossed out of the auction house.
      Methos managed not to further tease his partner once they had both cooled a bit and took their seats in the auction hall. The bed was fairly far down on the list and Mac found himself waiting with an urgency he didn't usually feel. Methos slipped away in the middle of it and returned a bit later with a bag. At Mac's raised eyebrows, his lover showed him his purchase -- a set of dark green silk braids with small tasseled ends.
      Mac swallowed and then almost missed a bid. He loved auctions and there were one or two other pieces he had on his list. He tried to pay attention only to find himself once more distracted as his partner pulled out one of the silken cords, idly playing with it and tying knots that then magically disappeared when he pulled the rope taut. Mac cleared his throat and placed one hand over his lover's to still the clever fingers Then swallowed again as he felt the silk slide gently across the back of his wrist.
      Methos was watching the auction, but there was smile hovering on his lips as he tightened the loop, capturing Mac's wrist and hand and using the cord to draw his lover's hand along the inside of his thigh. Mac grinned wickedly and raised his card to bid on a sideboard that no longer seemed quite as important an acquisition as it had half hour ago and tightened his hand around the muscle beneath his fingers.
       "Bed coming up," Methos whispered.
       "Thank God," Mac returned and pulled his hand away, shuddering as the silk slipped off his skin.
      There were two closed bids in addition to the open one and Mac to the highest of the open only to be out bid by the closed.
       "Damn it," Mac said softly. "Let me see if I can find out the buyer and I'll make him an offer."
       "Don't, Mac," Methos said as they rose. "You offered a high enough price. We'll find another."
       "I thought you wanted it?" Mac said as they headed for the accounting table for Mac to settle on the pieces he had purchased.
       "I do. But we can find another and right now I just want to get you in bed -- any bed," he said softly, hand briefly and surreptitiously slipping across his lover's ass in a suggestive caress.
       "What about your silks?" Mac asked.
       "Oh, I'm sure we can find another use for them," Methos said with a gleam in his eye. "Pay up. Let's get back to the hotel."
      MacLeod hurried to settle his account.

      The hotel bed did not look nearly as inviting but it would do, Mac decided as they entered the room. He had booked it in advance, the auction being in the evening and too late to drive back to Seacouver when it was over.
      There was no more teasing as they entered and the drive from the auction house to the hotel had been an exercise in self restraint. Mac vowed the next time Methos agreed to accompany him on one of his buying trips, he was renting a limousine complete with tinted windows.
      The silken cords were forgotten as Mac found a different silk to play with, sliding his lover's shirt off swiftly the miniute the door was locked. What little self-restraint he had left was severely tested while trying to make sure they made it to the bed at all.
      It wasn't until much, *much* later that MacLeod managed to turn his thoughts once more to the bed -- determined to find one very like it for Methos, if not for himself. A surprise he decided, rolling on his side to run his hand gently across the pale, smooth skin of his sleeping lover's back. Methos' face was turned to him, a satisfied smile still on his lips even in sleep. Yep. Methos would have his bed and Mac would have all the imaginative pleasure of his lover in that bed.
      He fell asleep mentally listing which antique dealers might be able to help him fulfill his dreams.

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