Of course, next Monday was striking – like a blow into face.
Two days of waiting, imagining, hot blood and feverish hands.. and Methos is polite, perfunctionary polite and alien; as if Friday never ever happened, as if he hadn’t moaned under Duncan’s kisses, as if hasn’t opened up and belonged, belonged so fully to Duncan.
They speak, hello and goodbye, stiff and uneasy, and that’s it. Finis.
December rolls around. Duncan sends greetings on New Year, Methos answers after a day: extensive wishes for good, really good New Year. And that's it, nothing comes out it, conversation is dead before even properly started.
January comes. [..] mia casa es sua casa... but not yet, not yet. Right now, he considers speaking in open, then decides against it. Rickey is too young, unpredictable, too in love. His infatuation can turn into hate, he is pretty sure.
They go abroad with Richie, the vacation long-planned and awaited. And now, in the beautiful shores of foreign country he called home: a few centuries ago for a few decades.. sayōnara and all that jazz, warm sea and rude sea-gulls circling..
Richie sits in the dirty, damp, cold sands besides him; like a dog, posed and ready to accept whatever he wants to give, be and become whatever Duncan will want him to be.
Duncan knows, it would be enough just turn the head and Richie would be his, will come to him willingly and in love, will give everything he asks and what he might want.
It would be so easy.
It would be sheer boredom.
It is already.
And Duncan – while he loves Richie tenderly, like a brother, like a pupil, a little bit like a reflection of his ego in this impossibly young adult’s eyes.. he cannot summon erection for him, even if his very life would depend on it.
Probably he is not good person, despite what he was taught to be, because such a prospect does not excite him much: life with utmost predictability.
Richie, the ex-thief and ex-mortal, he is his little brother, if he had one – brave and handsome, smart and passionate, treasured.
There is point of vainness, here, of course – Duncan has shaped his mind for last years, played Pygmalion once again and Richie.. he thrived to become whatever Duncan wanted him to be: immortal and immoral, immortal and saint, just say and I will be the one.
Richie now is at the point of anticipating his wishes and goals and fickle values – and tried to become, even Duncan himself does not know for most of the time what he wants..
Trouble lies within the abyss of intentions - Duncan is Richie’s utmost aim, he would be very loved and possessed.. yet Duncan refuses to be obtained, acquired, achieved. Like a dog, like a prize, like a degree.
He knows vanity of pursuing Methos, he won’t divorce, he won’t leave Alexa, be his completely.. but how he wants him, oh how he wants him; for the lust for life he inspires, desire to live, to breath, to be.
While Methos might not belong only to him, he will never ever harm him, won’t take his head, won’t make him suffer. Of Rickey he can’t be sure.. too young, too devoted, too much fancies himself in love with Duncan. Rickey is head over heels in love, but he can harm, out of spite, out of sheer idiocy of youth.
Methos… oh, he can do so much more harm, he can annihilate Duncan and nobody would be wiser, but.. he won’t do it. Despite declaring being beyond chivalry, he got moral compass, he don’t want to mess with his head, he does not want to harm Duncan.
So in the last evening he makes sure they are up till the small hours of morning, and then, while Richie is sleeping, goes out and searches.. wanders around and obtains, hard cash only, no traces, a pendant. Robust and exquisite, just the way Methos is. He feels reckless, daring, desperately wanting to give something.
Fear of rejection is terrible, but fear of not even trying is even greater.