Fic: Reckoning
Vin took a painful gasp as he shot up. Immediately there was a soothing hand at his back helping him to lay down and a glass of water pressed to his lips. Vin sank back down to the bed, prying his eyes open to see familiar green ones.
“What the hell happened?” he asked, raising a hand to his head. His hair was damp but he could find no sign of blood. He was sure he had been shot. Head shots always hurt the worst.
“Someone decided to scramble your brains, though I can’t say I’m ungrateful.”
Vin growled in remembrance. “MacLeod?” he asked as he automatically looked around for his weapons. They were neatly lined up on the chest of drawers and Vin could see that they had been wiped clean. He made a note to himself to clean and polish them again before his next fight with MacLeod.
“He was shot too.”
“Who interfered?”
“An Immortal by the name of Adam Pierson. He’s only been Immortal for a few years. MacLeod’s student, by all accounts,” Ezra told him.
Vin tried to push himself up, but Chris placed a firm hand on his chest and pushed him back down. Vin glared at him.
“You will not deny me this.”
Chris gave him an exasperated glare.
“No one’s denying you anything, but you’ve just been shot and you lost a lot of blood. For now you need liquids and a shower.”
“Who died and made you Nathan?” Vin asked grumpily.
“You,” was Chris’ curt reply. Vin folded his arms moodily and settled for glaring at him.
“I must report this incident to the Watchers,” Ezra told them. “They are suspicious enough as it is, with everything I’ve neglected to tell them.” Chris rose to let him out of the hotel room. Vin watched until Chris had his back turned before he stood with a wince. He pressed a hand to his head as he made his way to the bathroom.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Chris asked from the doorway. His arms were folded and he was glaring sternly at Vin. Vin gave him an annoyed look before trying his best wide-eyed, ingenuous look. Chris remained unaffected.
“I don’t care if you’re Immortal, you were just shot.”
“So was MacLeod. We’re on equal footing.”
“Vin,” Chris said, coming forward to grasp Vin’s face lightly in his hands. “I accept that you have to fight these battles, but I won’t accept you doing so at anything less than your best.”
Vin nodded, his body tight with the tension of a fight interrupted. He had all this focus and readiness and nowhere for it to go. Chris knew just how much Vin needed to finish it, but not before he was back to full capacity. Chris herded him into the bathroom and started the shower. He looked Vin over critically.
“I’m not sure I managed to get all the blood out,” Chris said as he dug his fingers into Vin’s hair. He stripped Vin of his clothes, taking his time to make sure that Vin was whole and alive and there. Fingers lingered over tattoos that he had helped to create, that made Vin look like an untameable creature of the wild, and traced scars that still hadn’t faded despite the many years Vin had been Immortal. Sometimes Chris wondered just which one was the wound that had killed Vin, but most of the time he avoided that thought entirely.
“Taking advantage of the recovering wounded?” Vin asked with a smirk, and a hungry look in his eyes that made Chris’ heart beat faster.
“Was thinking about it.”
“If that’s the case, you have too many clothes on Larabee,” Vin said as he unbuttoned Chris jeans, while Chris pulled his t-shirt over his head. He then obliged Vin by stepping out of his jeans and boxers. Vin wrapped one arm around his waist and pulled him under the warm spray of the shower with him.
Chris cupped a flushed cheek, remembering how pallid it had been before, and stared into desire-darkened eyes, with so many things he wanted to say running through his mind. He crushed his lips to Vin’s before he could ask if dying was something you eventually got used to, because no matter how many times he saw Vin revive he always wondered what he would do if it didn’t work this time, if Vin didn’t revive this time. His kiss was all desperation and fear and concern but Vin understood, like he always did, and he pressed their bodies flush against each other. Chris could feel Vin’s heartbeat, could feel his chest expand with every breath his took, the warmth of his skin where only an hour ago it had been cold and clammy and the evidence of just how alive Vin was pressed into his hip. Slowly the desperation eased to be replaced by the heat of desire and Chris moved slightly to grind their groins together. Both men groaned low in their throats.
Vin sensed the shift in Chris’ emotions and, with a low growl that sent shivers of anticipation down Chris’ spine, moved to pin Chris against the tiles of the shower wall. Chris splayed a hand across Vin’s chest before sliding it up over his shoulder to grasp the back of his neck and pull him once again into a fierce kiss. Chris could literally feel the tension that had built up over the last week in Vin’s neck and shoulder muscles. It wasn’t often that Vin was this aggressive, it usually only happened when Vin had been undercover for a while or had been focussing on hunting someone, but God, when it did Chris had learnt to just sit back and enjoy the ride.
Vin haphazardly searched the small shelf in the shower for the body wash supplied by the hotel. He had to discard both the shampoo and conditioner before he found it. He flipped the lid open and squeezed some into his right hand.
“Now would be a good time to spread ‘em, Larabee,” Vin growled into Chris’ ear, before he ran his tongue along the shell of Chris’ ear then sucked lightly on the lobe. Chris’ quiet chuckle at their old joke turned abruptly into a moan as Vin ground against him.
Chris turned to brace himself against the wall, his cock twitching as he felt Vin’s hands on his arse cheeks. Vin’s hair tickled his shoulder as the wiry man leaned forward, breath hot, to whisper in his ear. Chris was sure half the things Vin suggested weren’t even physically possible, though with someone as limber as Vin he shouldn’t be too surprised.
“Payback’s a bitch,” Chris said a little breathlessly, the corner of his mouth turned up in a lascivious smirk.
“Looking forward to it,” Vin replied with smirk of his own.
Then Chris had to concentrate on his breathing because Vin was sliding a finger into him. Soon another one was added and then another. Every brush of his prostate sent a shock of pleasure through him and he was sure that if Vin didn’t get on with it there wouldn’t be much of anything to get on with. He almost didn’t notice the hand that came to splay across his stomach, except for the fact that it was so achingly near his cock and wouldn’t Vin just move it?
Finally Vin eased in impossibly slowly and Chris was sure he swore a few times and told Vin to get on with it, but he couldn’t concentrate enough to remember. Vin, for his part, rested his forehead against Chris shoulder, trying to focus once he was all the way in. Vin stretched his right arm along Chris’ and entwined their fingers.
Vin only began to move when Chris rocked his hips. The pace he set was hard, fast and rough. Exactly what they both needed.
Chris found himself listening as he always did to Vin’s panted murmurs. He always knew the precise moment when Vin lost control. It coincided with his losing the ability to speak English. Words flowed in a breathless tumble in what Chris could only assume was Vin’s native language.
Then Vin slipped the hand splayed on Chris’ stomach lower, brushing through pubic hairs to wrap firmly around his’ cock and jerked him off in time with the rocking of their hips. From that point Vin could have been speaking Pig Latin for all Chris cared because he could feel heat pooling in his groin and every time Vin hit his prostate it was almost too much.
His climax came hard and fast and he had time only to shout Vin’s name before Vin was biting down on his shoulder and spilling seed within him. As Chris’ climax ebbed Vin raised his head once more.
“Circinn,” Vin breathed, lips to Chris’ ear, as quiet in this as he was in everything else. The rest of his sentence was in that language that Chris couldn’t understand, but somehow the meaning was never lost to him even if the words themselves were. There was a part of Chris that recognised the name Circinn as being his as much as Chris was. It was the same part of him that had recognised Vin from the first time their eyes met.
They stood there for a long moment, Vin pressed up against Chris’ back, his breathing gradually slowing to a normal rate.
“I think we’re going to need another shower,” Chris said finally, and he could feel the rumble of Vin’s laughter reverberate through him. Vin pressed a tender kiss to the bite on Chris’ shoulder before he slowly pulled away.
“Can’t say I’d complain,” Vin replied with a playful leer.
“Not anytime soon,” Chris told him. It’d take his body a while to catch up with his mind again. He yawned as he reached for the discarded shampoo, knowing that as much as he wanted to crawl into bed right now, Vin’s hair would be a nightmare to comb if they didn’t wash it properly now that it was wet.
***
Vin was working his way through several warm up exercises in preparation for his next fight with MacLeod. Along with this he envisioned various possibilities of how the fight could proceed and strategies he could use to combat MacLeod. Having actually faced the man he had a great deal more information at his disposal than he had previously. His movement stopped short as he sensed the presence of an Immortal.
There was a sharp knock on the door and Vin nodded briefly to Chris who went to open it. In the doorway stood a tall man with a lean build, sharp hazel eyes and an overly large nose.
“Cei,” Vin greeted, his expression indifferent, though his eyes did spark with warm familiarity. Despite this he did not lower his sword. One could never be too careful when it came to Immortals.
“He’s the one who shot you,” Chris told him, one hand holding a gun discreetly behind his back, eyes never wavering from the man at the door.
“Cailtram, I need to speak with you.”
“The Watchers think you’re MacLeod’s student.”
Methos shrugged carelessly. The Watchers thought a lot of things.
“You’re his friend,” Vin stated
“Yes.”
“He is a murderer.”
“Aren’t we all?”
Vin inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement. He knew Cei was older than him, even if he didn’t know by how much. When Immortals reached a certain age they began to see the world differently, to see people differently, and Vin knew that Cei had always understood human nature better than most.
“He murdered Kol’tec.”
“Since when is anything ever that simple?”
“What more could there be? Kol’tec was a peaceful man who defended himself but seldom sought out fights, and MacLeod killed him.”
“There was a Dark Quickening.”
Vin lowered his sword, though he did not put it away, and gestured for Cei to enter.
“Explain.”
Methos walked nonchalantly into the room, not commenting on the fact that Cailtram had yet to sheath his sword or that the blond man still held his gun behind his back. He would have done the same in their position. Besides, he had a small arsenal at his disposal as well.
“Do you happen to have any beer around?” Methos asked as he sprawled on the couch without invitation.
“Cei,” Vin said, his tone warning.
“Have you heard of a Dark Quickening?” Methos asked Cailtram as he leant forward. Cailtram frowned suspiciously.
“I have heard tales of Quickenings which change the basic nature of a person.”
“They’re more than just tales. MacLeod has his faults, I’ll be the first to admit that, but he is above all a good man.”
“You claim his actions were the result of a Dark Quickening?”
“I know they were.”
“Your proof?”
“I was right there with him. I cured him, for lack of a better word. Even the most reclusive of Immortals has heard about the MacLeods. They are known for their honour and heroism if nothing else.”
While Vin knew that Cei was not averse to lying to get his way, he also knew that he wouldn’t have gotten involved if he didn’t have some investment in both him and MacLeod. He was willing to give Cei the benefit of the doubt because he considered the man as much of a friend as he considered any Immortal.
“I will back off for now,” Vin finally said.
“A deferred sentence?” Methos asked sardonically.
“Something like that.”
Methos nodded, willing to take what he could get. He doubted that Cailtram and MacLeod would ever get along, not necessarily because MacLeod had killed Kol’tec but because they lived by different codes. They both considered the well-being of their family and friends above all else, but where MacLeod was protector and defender, Cailtram was hunter and tracker. Where MacLeod fought openly and brazenly, Cailtram used stealth. Where MacLeod was a warrior, Cailtram was a survivor. Methos knew that they wouldn’t be friends, but he hoped that he could get Cailtram to at least tolerate MacLeod’s existence.
“Will you consent to meet with him?”
There was a long pause in which Vin considered denying Cei’s request. Finally he nodded because while he had consented to back off he would always feel at least some doubt about his decision until he met with MacLeod and judged the man’s story for himself.
“There’s a church, two blocks from here. Will you be there tonight?”
“We’ll be there,” Vin told him as Chris came to stand by his side.
Methos nodded, preparing to leave now that he had accomplished what he had set out to do. He took a moment to look the blond man over, trying to figure just what seemed so familiar about him. Suddenly his eyes widened and he looked to Cailtram for clarification. Cailtram gave him a short nod.
“How is that possible?” Methos asked. Cailtram shrugged.
“The simple fact that it is, is enough for me.”
Methos looked from one man to the other for a moment before shaking his head in disbelief. Even at 5000 years he could come across something he hadn’t encountered before. He made a note to question Cailtram about it later, when they had more time. Methos bid them farewell. For the moment he had to get MacLeod to agree to the meeting as well. MacLeod would be easy though. A little guilt-trip, a little playing the friendship card and he would be willing.
Once the other Immortal was gone Chris rounded on Vin.
“He called you Cailtram.”
“Yes,” Vin replied, looking away. “It was my name Before.”
There was an intensity and emphasis there and it took Chris a moment to realise what he meant.
“Before your first death,” Chris said, to which Vin nodded. “You’ve never told me where you came from.”
“I am Cruithne. My people inhabited Caledonia.” At Chris’ blank look Vin elaborated, “the Romans called us Picts.”
Chris’ eyes widened in surprise. He may not know much about the Picts, but as a boy he’d been interested in Roman military history. Certainly the Picts were to be admired for holding off the Roman army for centuries.
“Who’s Circinn?” he asked, because he knew that somehow that name tied in with all of this and was somehow fundamentally tied to him. Vin smiled, his expression full of emotions Chris couldn’t readily identify.
“You are,” Vin replied before carding his fingers through Chris hair and pulling the other man to him. He silenced any further questions Chris may have had with a kiss.
Chris let Vin get away with it with the intention of bringing the topic up at a later date, when he wasn’t quite so distracted by the intoxicating feeling of Vin in his arms.