Friends and Lovers

Title: Friends and Lovers
Author: Indiana
Rating: Slash
Keywords: First time
Characters: CM RR
Summary: Connor gets a surprise house guest with an unexpected outcome.
Comment: Written for the lyric wheel challenge.

DISCLAIMERS: Ok y'all know the drill, the boys don't belong to me but to TPTB at Panzer/Davis. I'm just playing and will return them unharmed.....eventually! : )


Friends and Lovers
By Indiana


An insistent ringing of the doorbell stole him from his dreams. Glancing at the clock he was shocked to find it was one o'clock in the morning. Burying his head under the covers he chose to ignore it figuring that whoever it was would assume no one was home and leave. He was wrong. The ringing continued for another five minutes before he angrily threw back the covers and got out of bed. Grabbing a robe he swore colorfully in an ancient tongue. He picked up his sword and went to the front door. As he approached he felt the familiar hum that signified another of his kind. /Don't tell me, headhunters are making house calls now/. He opened it cautiously, keeping the sword in plain sight. Slouched against the doorframe stood a young man, dressed entirely in black.

"Well it's about time Sir Lancelot," the red head greeted him cheerfully as he pushed past the flabbergasted Immortal and entered the apartment. "Jeez Connor I've been freezing my butt off out there for the last ten minutes. What took you so long?"

"Richie, what the hell are you doing here? Do you know what time it is?" he bellowed.

"Hey Connor calm down. Do you like want to point that somewhere else," Richie indicated the sword Connor was jabbing in the air as if to punctuate his anger.

Connor smiled in spite of himself and set the sword down, "Coffee?" he asked heading to the kitchen. Richie nodded and followed him, bracing himself for Connor's next outburst that he knew would come once the older man got a good look at him. He wasn't disappointed. As soon as the lights flipped on and Connor got his first good look at him it started.

"Richie look at you. What the hell happened? Are you Ok? Who was it? Where's Mac?" the questions came rapidly, not even waiting for a response. Once he was sure Connor had stopped Richie began to talk.

"Mac's in Seacouver. I'm fine; it wasn't one of us. Just a bar room brawl, nothing to worry about," he sipped his coffee and continued, "I needed to get away for a while and I just sorted of ended up in New York. I thought I'd drop by and see you but when I came earlier you weren't home. I went for dinner and tried to call you a couple of times but there was no answer, so I headed to a bar. After I'd been there about an hour some guy who'd had too much started hassling me, one thing led to another and the fight broke out. I knocked him unconscious and got outta there before the cops turned up and now, now I'm here. Can I crash here for a couple of days?"

"Of course you can, but before you even think about getting into my clean sheets you must shower," realizing how that had just came out he quickly amended "the sheets in the guest room I mean."

Twenty minutes later Connor lay awake in his bed thinking about his young guest and silently chuckling over his Freudian slip about the sheets.

Richie's idea of a couple of days turned into weeks and now that he was used to having him around Connor was enjoying the company. He recalled the first few days of Richie's visit when he had returned to find music blaring at an ungodly volume and Richie sprawled on the couch with a beer in his hand and his feet on the coffee table. "How do you hear yourself think," he'd asked as he turned the volume way, way down. Richie had sighed exasperatedly and explained as though speaking to a child that Connor should get with it, it was Silverchair, as if that should be the only explanation needed.

Richie had soon shown him that he did indeed need to get with it, lighten up and enjoy the nineties. Under Richie's guidance he had let himself relax and enjoy himself. They went out for dinners, to nightclubs and bars and even a strip joint. Connor had lost count of the number of times they had staggered through the door barely able to stand with their arms wrapped around each other for support.

One morning at breakfast Richie finally broached the subject he'd wanted to since he got there. "Connor, I think we need to go shopping"

"Why, what do you need?"

"Not me, you."


"Yes you. Those white runners you keep insisting on wearing are, well, to be honest, disgusting and don't even get me started on that god- awful trench coat. Now don't get offended on me. I want to take you shopping and update your wardrobe. It'll be fun," he cajoled. For good measure he added a little pout and puppy dog eyes. Connor nearly lost then. Did Richie truly not know the effect he had on him when he was like this?

"Ok. Ok," he found the words leaving his mouth and taking him by surprise.

They headed out shopping as soon as breakfast was done. They went from one end of town to the other in search of Richie's idea of the perfect wardrobe. They were soon loaded down with bags full of sweaters, T- shirts, jeans, sweats, new runners, Doc Martin boots, dress slacks and socks and boxers. They were on the way to get a new trench coat when Richie spotted leather pants in a shop window. "You would look great in those," he spoke without thinking and dragged Connor into the shop before he could protest.

"I don't know about these," Connor said opening the dressing room door. Richie looked him up and down before announcing they were perfect but needed something to go with them.

"Wait right here," he told Connor. As soon as Richie walked away Connor quickly shut the door and took the pants off. He was still standing in his T-shirt and boxers when Richie pulled the door open. Too shocked to speak Richie just stared at him, unable to avert his eyes.

"Don't you ever knock?" Connor's voice broke into his mind.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "You should try this jacket as well."

They left the store ten minutes later with both the pants and jacket and Connor's misgivings. He seriously doubted he'd ever actually wear either item but Richie had been so insistent. He glanced sideways at his young friend who had barely spoken since the dressing room incident. Connor wondered what the problem was but knew Richie well enough not to push him to talk.

Once back at the apartment Richie disappeared into his room. He lay on the bed his mind going a million miles a minute in about six different directions. /What's gotten into me?/ Though if he was honest with himself he knew. Memories of Connor came to him, Connor at the antique store "I'm Connor MacLeod, same clan different vintage", Connor hot and sweaty after a work out, Connor emerging from the bathroom hair still damp and only a towel around his waist. It occurred to him that he had seen Connor almost naked before so what had caused this reaction? He imagined again the sight of Connor in his boxers, the way the material hugged his bum and emphasized the size of his, of his.../just say it, admit you were checking out his package/. He realized the voices in his head were right. Finally he acknowledged to himself that he was attracted to Connor. /Doesn't mean I have to do anything about it/.

Connor knocked on his door half an hour later "Want to play?" he asked indicating the swords he had with him.

"Sure, just let me change," Richie quickly stood pulled off his jeans and pulled on sweat pants. he was aware of Connor's eyes on him and felt a secret thrill run through him.

They sparred playfully for a while and Connor was pleased Richie felt comfortable enough to do that with him. The clash of swords matched the clash of words as they teased each other trying to put the other of his game; eventually it was Connor who won after Richie ended up on his knees on the floor. Connor took the sword from him and placed them on a chair. Turning back to Richie he said, "Not bad for one so young, but you have room for improvement."

"I just need more practice and experience. I'll be better when I'm older."

"What makes you so sure you'll get any older?" Connor moved menacingly toward him a wicked grin on his face. Without warning he lunged at Richie pinning him down and tickling him without mercy. Richie laughed and struggled against him but Connor held fast, "Surrender"

"No", the tickling increased.


"Ok I give up..."

Connor released him and Richie gasped for air. They sat on the floor laughing. A bead of sweat rolled toward Connor's mouth, reaching out quickly Richie wiped it away with his thumb. Connor tensed slightly his eyes dilating against his will. Richie leaned in and kissed him, lightly at first just a brush against his lips. When Connor didn't pull away he deepened the kiss his tongue probing Connor's lips. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered that Connor was kissing him back. That was all the encouragement he needed. His tongue explored Connor's mouth and his body flared white hot in response. Finally giving in to the need to breathe he pulled away. Reality hit like a ton of bricks and he was lost for words.

"God, Richie, that was incredible."

Relief washed through him as he realized Connor wasn't angry. He found himself moving toward Connor again, his hands cupping his face, his mouth seeking the warmth of the others. He pushed Connor backward until they were lying together on the floor, never breaking the magical kiss. Richie moved his mouth to kiss Connor's neck and jaw /I want you so much. You make me so hot, so fucking hot. I want to take you to bed and explore every inch of your magnificent body/. The thoughts flowed through him as he continued to kiss his way down Connor's neck. He felt Connor shudder, "Then do it, Richie. Take me to bed."

Richie suddenly realized he hadn't just been thinking those thoughts he'd vocalized them. He stood and reached down to help Connor up. Hand in hand they headed toward Connor's bedroom.

"Maybe we should shower first," Connor said aware that they were both sweaty from their sparring earlier.

"I don't want to wait. Do you?"

"No," the older immortal admitted.

"Well, a little sweat never killed anyone," Richie quipped.

They stood by Connor's bed kissing and feverishly removing each other's clothes until they were both naked. Climbing into bed Richie chuckled softly when he realized he was not nervous. He reached for Connor their lips meeting as they began exploring each other.

They lay side by side. Richie ran his hand over Connor's chest lightly stroking first one nipple then the other. Connor imitated his every move, until unable to restrain himself any longer he flipped Connor onto his back. He began to lick and suck each nipple and kissed his way down Connor's abdomen finally reaching his destination. Reverently he kissed the head of Connor's erection, before taking it into his mouth. He reveled in the taste and texture of Connor as he sucked and licked and lost himself in pleasuring his partner.

"God, Richie," Connor moaned unable to keep his body from bucking off the bed, "I'm gonna come." He spilled his essence into the hot mouth and Richie swallowed every drop before releasing him. Richie moved back up Connor's body planting sweet light kisses along his chest as he went until Connor grabbed his head and pulled him into a deep kiss.

"I want you," Richie whispered. Connor rolled to one side and opened a drawer silently handing the tube to him. Quickly Richie prepared himself and then spread his lubricated fingers along Connor's opening before sliding one finger in. Connor moaned and soon Richie added a second and third digit. Finally he withdrew and then gently eased himself into the hot, tight entrance. He gave Connor a minute to adjust and then slowly pushed himself all the way in. He took a deep breath and reached down to kiss Connor's mouth before he began to move. He knew he couldn't last much longer as he began to thrust faster and faster with Connor moaning in encouragement. Feeling his orgasm near he reached down and pumped Connor's erection in time with his thrusts until they both came together. He collapsed on top of Connor until he got his breathing back to normal, then slipped out of him. Connor pulled him close and wrapped his arms around him.

"You have such wonderful eyes," Connor whispered. "You steal my breath away. I never imagined you would want me the way I wanted you. I would like very much for you to stay with me.... If you want to for as little or long as you like."

"Really? You may regret that. I can be kind of difficult to live with, and I'd want to know all about your life. Not just the bits you think I should know."

"I can be stubborn too, we'll work it out together. You may not like everything about my life, you might not be such a fan once you know everything."

"Nothing can change how I feel about you. I'll be the greatest fan of your life." Richie whispered as they fell asleep wrapped around each other.



AUTHOR'S NOTES: I first read the lyrics with no thought of how the story would go. Then I read them again and as soon as I saw the line "I'll be better when I'm older" I knew straight away it would have to be Richie saying it and then the whole tickling scene jumped into my head and the rest just sort of wrote itself.

Many thanks to Shay for the great lyrics.

This is the first story I've written so any comments, suggestions, criticisms etc will be welcomed at:

I'll Be

By Edwin McCain

The strands in your eyes that color them wonderful
Stop me and steal my breath
Emeralds from mountains thrust towards the sky
Never revealing their depth
Tell me that we belong together
Dress it up with the trappings of love
I'll be captivated, I'll hang from your lips
Instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above
I'll be your cryin' shoulder
I'll be love suicide
I'll be better when I'm older
I'll be the greatest fan of your life
Rain fall angry on the tin roof
As we lie awake in my bed
You're my survival, you're my living proof
My love is alive and not dead
Tell me that we belong together
Dress it up with the trappings of love
I'll be captivated, I'll hang from your lips
Instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above


I've dropped out, burned up, fought my way back from the dead
Tuned in, turned on, remembered the thing you said