He was trying not to stare at her now-bicolor, smudged lipstick when Marie informed him haughtily, "You are entirely too stuffy!" -- just before she tripped over her own high heels, tying to storm off.
Duncan caught her elbow to balance her, but let go when she wrenched it away. He tried to keep his voice reasonable as he asked, "You can't even walk and you want me to try this drug you're taking?"
This time Marie did manage to stalk away. Duncan gave her a moment to calm down before he went after her (it also let him debate whether he should ask who she'd been kissing in the ladies' room) ... only to find a young man standing in his way when he tried to follow her. Young, dark eyes, curling brown hair not nearly as long as some of the fashions and much too long for others -- either way, he made it look like a new trend to be followed. Duncan paused, reevaluating him. The eyes were older than the face, the bearing more certain than his years gave him any right to.
"Not getting along?" the stranger asked lightly, gaze flicking up and down Duncan in evaluation and anticipation. Aggressive, warrior or alpha, intent, very male... not Duncan's usual interest, and yet he was interested.
"Apparently not," Duncan said, taking a deep breath and letting it go again as he tried to push aside the attraction. He'd brought Marie to the party; he needed to see she got safely home. Unfortunately, the breath let him smell the man's cologne, and a faint trace of good tobacco. He smelled like just-picked herbs and fresh-shaved wood: clean and sharp. Duncan wanted to dive into him, swim in the scent for the pleasure of emerging at last, wide awake and skin tingling.
"She'll calm down, and no one's leaving soon anyway. Our hosts had enough sense to post sober door guards." Slim and muscular, the stranger watched the people around them with a predator's awareness that left Duncan both aroused and on edge. All the danger of an immortal, with none of the blades involved....
Duncan realized he was actually considering finding some privacy with this stranger when the other man smiled at him: pleased, wicked, and very interested. "Henry." He gave his name in a low voice that carried under the crowd noise, caught Duncan's left hand in his and lifted it to his mouth... only to kiss the palm, before biting the wrist.
Too startling, too good, more pleasure than one nip should give in an area not normally one of Duncan's hot spots. Cool mouth, scarcely warmer tongue, heat burning up his neck until his cheeks must be flaming.... Duncan's knees held him up, barely.
Henry was much closer than he remembered, one arm around Duncan's waist (and ignoring the dagger at the small of his back). Henry watched him closely, eyes almost black at this range. He smiled an invitation at Duncan, licking parted lips dark as pomegranates in the dim light.
"We might get along very well."
~ ~ ~ finis ~ ~ ~
Comments, Commentary, Miscellanea:
None. The whole thing seemed like a good idea at the time. I blame Medie, and Lys who gave me an LJ icon, and Devo for encouraging. Oh, and the gorgeous guy playing Henry so well.
Wait 'til Duncan finds out Henry's older than he is....
Disclaimers: Rysher: Panzer/Davis owns Duncan; Tanya Huff owns Henry. No moneys made, no infringement intended. Written for Crossovers100, prompt # 60 -- drink and for Medie's Kissin' A Fool challenge, where the prompt was "Blood Ties/Highlander; Henry/Duncan; not getting along."
Rated: PG-13, for implied femslash and het, for more explicit slash, and for blood.