Title: I Own You, Brother


Author: Tina Mayer


Rating: NC-17 This is a slash story and depicts a relationship (including graphic sexual situations and language) between

two men.  If this is not of interest to you, then please go away and don’t blame me if you read it because I did warn you.


Characters: Methos/Kronos


Disclaimer: The Four Horsemen belong to Davis/Panzer Productions, I just merely use them as muses and I make no money

off of them.


Summary: This story takes place after Methos agreed to help Kronos in Comes A Horseman and after they got to Bordeaux

In Revelation 6:8.


Feedback: aoutlaw321@gmail.com


I Own You Brother


Adam Pierson sighed wearily, or at least that was who he used to be, before Kronos had shown back up in his life.  Now

Adam had to leave that life behind, had to destroy all the relationships that he had formed and all the hope that he had

for any sense of normalcy.  Now, Adam Pierson wasn’t allowed to be the mild mannered watcher, but rather Methos, one

of the deadly Horsemen of the Apocalypse.


He sighed again as he started to unbutton his light blue, long sleeved shirt.  He just couldn’t believe that he was here.  He

was back with his brother, Kronos, one of the men that he both hated, and yet loved.


Adam really didn’t understand why he couldn’t just kill Kronos himself.  Is it that I am too weak?  That I am out of practice

with the sword? Or is it the passionate fire that seems to be between us?  He shook his head bitterly thinking about it. 

Am I really ready to leave my new life behind to go back to the old one?  Am I ready to destroy all the relationships that I

created as Adam Pierson?


All of these questions swirled in his head as he looked around him.  He honestly couldn’t believe that Kronos would want to

live in a place like this.  Then again, maybe he could.  It was dark, dank, gritty, and had an eerie quality about it.  To put it

simply, it was very gothic looking.  The kind of place where drugs were dealt, or where people came to die.  It reeked of hate,

of revenge, and you could almost hear the screams of their Horsemen days in the steel walls that surrounded them.  It was

sick and twisted, and it was Kronos’ dream.  This was his brother’s Camelot, his fantasy, and his entire world.  And now, Adam

was again a part of it.  No, not Adam.  Methos.


Methos stool in the putrid little bathroom about ready to take a shower, his face grimacing in disgust as he let his shirt fall off

of his shoulders and onto the floor.  He leaned over to turn on the water, making a soft noise of surprise when if came out clear

and on the verge of hot, then stepping back as his fingers found their way to the belt buckle of his pants.  He fingered the

buckle loose, then looked up and gasped in surprise.


Kronos was standing there, in the archway of the bathroom, with his arms crossed and a very pleased grin on his face.  There

was no doubt that he had been watching Methos with a great longing, as it had been a long time since he had seen, let alone

felt, his favorite brother.


Methos just stood there, looking at him.  He didn’t say a word; he didn’t even really make a move, although he couldn’t help

but to stand a little more upright as he watched Kronos’ eyes travel across his chest and then down over the rest of his body.

This was the way that it was, the way that it had always been.  Kronos would make the move and Methos would always have

to comply.


“Greetings brother.” Kronos said as he stepped into the bathroom.  “It looks like you could use some help taking your shower.”


Methos took a ragged breath.  He knew what that meant.


Kronos just gave him a smirk as he walked closer, looking him directly in the eyes as his fingers roamed over Methos’ chest and

then down to his belt.  He then yanked the belt off, and before Methos could even flinch from the force of it, Kronos fingers had

trailed down to his fly, unzipping it.


“No…” was the only thing that Methos could think to utter, but he didn’t, he simply stood there and let Kronos work his pants

and boxers down and off.  Then he stepped out of them and stood there, watching as Kronos stood back and looked him over.


Kronos watched as the hot water made a mist that swirled around Methos’ feet and lingered against his skin.  Methos could do

nothing but hang his head in shame as he felt his groin betray him, his member now fully erect, and beckoning to Kronos, who let

out a laugh as he quickly undressed himself and stood, his own cock straining as he faced Methos.


Methos inhaled sharply, in expectation of what his brother might do, then licked his lips nervously as he watched this slow sneer

come over Kronos’ face.  His mind swirled yet again with thoughts as he stood there quietly, waiting.  Why now, after so much

time?  Why do I let this calculating and diabolical mastermind control me like this?  Why haven’t I learned?   But he knew that

he was helpless against it, against him.  There was just the energy and passion that flowed through them, between them.  They

once the most feared things on the face of the earth, brothers, who took what they wanted and didn’t care about anyone or

anything.  It had been like a game to them, although a deadly serious one, and for Kronos, Methos had been the prize.


Suddenly, with no warning what so ever, Kronos grabbed Methos and pressed their lips together in a kiss that was forceful, full

of anger and lust.  It was the possessive kiss that Methos remembered, the one that told him exactly where his place was.  Kronos

was going to make damn sure that Methos knew just what he was and whom he belonged too.


Methos kept his mouth closed and tried to push him back, but Kronos wasn’t having any of that.  He bit hard on Methos lower lip,

forcing entry.  Methos started to scream out in pain, but before he could really acknowledge it, Kronos had pushed him hard into the

shower and back against the wall, his tongue taking possession of Methos’ mouth.


Methos hit the wall with a grunt, but would not dare deny Kronos again, so this time he returned the kiss with energy and a head of

his own.  He closed his eyes and actually managed to enjoy the kiss as the water fell from above them and the blood from his lip was

quickly washed down his toned physique and into the drain.


Kronos pulled back from the kiss and looked Methos up and down once again, and he liked what he saw.  This was the way that it

was supposed to be.  Methos was supposed to be his and no others.  Everything about Methos, he owned.  From his water slicked

chest, to his light abdomen and toned thighs, all the way down to his very pleasing and exquisite cock that was now jutting out

through the curtain of water.  “Where have you been this whole time brother?” Kronos asked as he roughly grabbed Methos and

turned him around to face the wall.


Methos parted his lips to say something, but Kronos’ hands where all ready rediscovering him.  The water beat down around them,

as Methos was helpless to do anything but let his emotions take over.  He let out a soft moan as he felt Kronos’ hands run over his

broad shoulder and arms, then down along the taunt muscles of his back.  He let out a gasp as they started to knead his ass and the

back of his upper thighs.  Methos licked his lips then braced himself against the back of the shower with his arms for support.


As soon as Methos had braced himself, Kronos stealthily grabbed his own cock and drove himself into Methos’ ass, causing Methos

to scream out a curse in Arabic at the sudden intrusion.  Water was nice to slick things up, but not when it was more or less being

forced.  However, Methos’ pain quickly subsided when he felt Kronos thrust hard, using deep long strokes within him.  Kronos always

did know how to make Methos forget his constant thinking and just enjoy the little pleasures in life, even if that was just fucking.   Or



Kronos continued his powerful strokes as he grabbed Methos’ hips and forced himself to go deeper still.  Finally Methos; desire became

almost unbearable, and he reached down with one hand and grabbed his own cock, then slowly started to stroke himself in rhythm with

Kronos.  This move made Kronos get that sharp feeling of triumph that he always felt when forcing himself upon Methos, and caused him

to thirst for more as he watched the muscles in Methos’ shoulders and arms work.  After a few more moments, Kronos tilted his head back

and moaned deep in his throat, a sound that could only be described as primal lust, and Methos could feel himself almost yielding in

weakness as he neared his own climax. 


Kronos grinned wickedly, thinking about how vulnerable Methos was now, and all that he could do to torment and torture him.  All of these

thoughts evaporated though as Kronos thrust deeply once more, and then shuddered as he felt himself cum deep within Methos.  He waited

for a long moment, then leaned forward and whispered in a harsh, husky voice next to Methos’ ear. “Now Methos.”


Methos shuddered and let out a slow and drawn out moan as he spewed his own ejaculatory fluid on the shower wall directly in front of him,

then drew in a deep breath as he felt Kronos remove himself and turn him around.  Kronos then did something that Methos would never have

expected him to do, not in a thousand lifetimes, not in ten thousand.  He took Methos’ face, which was dripping with water, in his hands and

kissed him very softly.  It was a simple kiss, one that most people would have called ‘loving’ or maybe ‘sweet’.  Methos’ pulse kicked up a

notch as he received this new, and almost needy, kiss.  However, before Methos could simply melt into it, Kronos pulled back and licked his

lips, then looked at Methos with this fiery intensity in his eyes as he said…


“I own you.”


And with that, Kronos left the shower and the bathroom, leaving Methos in questioning anguish and dismay.  He leaned against the shower

wall, and just let the water wash over his body as he closed his eyes in quiet thought for a moment.  Then he cursed Kronos and made a

promise to himself that one day, one day…Kronos would pay.