Work Text:
All around the loft, there were candles, the only source of light. Night had fallen; the phone had been disconnected. They were alone at last. Sitting on the bed, they looked at each other. Neither of them seemed to want to take the first step.
"Maybe we should start by kissing?" Practically 400 years of experience, and he was totally lost.
"I don't know. I don't feel like kissing much." Methos was holding a beer close to him. He had nothing else to do.
"Fucking?" Duncan worried at his lower lip, wondering if he even had lube to accomplish what he just had suggested.
"Without kissing first? Doesn't sound all that loving." Methos looked around the loft. He saw Duncan's newly bought work of art, an abstract sculpture. It was pretty.
"Hmmm, you're right." Silence reigned once again, and Duncan tried to find something-anything-to say. "Ahem."
"Yeah." They looked at each other. Methos tried to read Duncan's face; it seemed to reflect what he was feeling.
"What about we rent a movie?" Duncan had already gotten off the bed, had lit a lamp and was snuffing out the candles.
"Okay. I'm game." He put on his shoes and coat. He waited for Duncan to join him in the lift.
The lift went down; its sound very loud between them. "I'll call Chelle in the morning."
"You do that."