No one should be able to attend a wedding in a dress kilt—worn entirely without irony—and look as comfortable in his own skin, as natural and edible as if he were some romance novel fantasy come to life. Methos had seen the actual romance novel, in point of fact, on Amanda’s coffee table. But nothing about the reality of a flesh-and-blood, real live Duncan MacLeod wearing formal Highland dress had made Methos want to laugh the way that illustration had.
Adult, semi-public kilt!sex. Sexy, funny and sweet, a winning combination if there ever was one! And oh my, Duncan in a kilt… that gets not only Methos hot and bothered. 😉
Seven Year Itch, by killabeez
It had always been his Achilles’ heel; he couldn’t seem to help being fascinated by possibilities. And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? Because he and MacLeod between them were nothing if not possibility… Infinite possibility, just waiting to happen.
Adult, first time. A lot of Duncan/Methos fic wallows too much in angst and emotions, especially where Methos and his past are concerned, imho. This, on the other hand, feels like something that could (should) happen, right down to the not-so-clear cut ending.
Emergence, by Killa
A big bruiser of a man had Methos’s arm in a vice-lock. He turned his head gingerly to the left. A twin to the first man had a lock on his other arm. Methos felt no presence. Well, that was something. He giggled. Oh, hell, he thought.
Adult, humour. Methos gets hit with a (deadly) truth drug. Verbal diarrhoea ensues which leads to hilarity, sexing and a surprising amount of feels. Altogether lovely.
Nothing But the Truth, by carenejeans