Meant to be Together

Meant to be Together - Part 1

Title: Meant to be together

Author: Beverly

Archive: Permission to archive granted to Archers_Enterprise, ENTSTSlash, MEG-Archive, reedsarmory, reedsarcheryrange, and whoever wants to have�just let me know where

Rating: NC-17, slightly tissue-alert in Part 3, but with a happy ending

Status: complete

Series: none

Sequel to: none

Pairing: Archer/Reed

Warnings:� none

Spoilers: none

Disclaimer: the usual�me nothing�Paramount everything�*sigh*�just having my fun with the boys.

Beta: mainly the wonderful Mareel, queen of drabbles and grammar. Stormy for her wonderful reaction about Part 1, and Grainn� for her interesting thoughts, also Part 1.

Summary: Jon has an interesting meeting on an alien planet which openes him his eyes�finally.

Author's Notes: The �alpha-team�, mentioned in Part 3, is a tv-series here in germany. It�s similar to �Emergency Room�. I love it (alpha-team) and watch it every Thursday. The most interesting thing about it, that Dr. Eberhard Scheu is really gay (the character, not the actor). Anyone who wants to take a look at all the people I wrote about, just go to http://www.sat1.de/serien/alphateam/alphateam/ . That�s it. Have fun and pleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaase�send me feedback�just a little word, a tiny crumb�thank you.

Meant to be together
Part 1
Florence, 1571

It was dark and close to midnight when a lonely figure hastily ran along the river Arno, trying his best to hide in the shadows. He crossed the river over the Ponte S. Trinita. He could be sure that there wouldn�t be too many guards at this hour in the night. The Via Maggio was empty, and the figure carefully left his shelter in the shadows to cross the Piazza Pitti. A single candle was burning in one of the upper windows.

A slight smile ghosted across the shadow�s face, but was gone before it could be noticed.

She was there. Waiting.

A hand searched for a piece of paper, long fingers closing around it the second they found it.

With long-practiced ease, the figure seemed to become one with the shadows as if he knew his way by heart around the Palazzo.

This Palazzo belonged to the Medici, and if you wanted to survive in Florence, you knew that you don�t mess with the Medici.

And though this little slip of paper in his pocket had nothing to do with any of the Palazzo�s inhabitants, he was careful.

There was the door. He slid closer, barely noticeable in his dark clothes.

Knock�knock, knock�knock.

The sign.

He waited.

Then he heard the answer.

Two�one�two.

He let out a sigh of relief.

The door opened without a noise, and showed the face of a young man. The figure in the shadow held his breath for a second. Lord, he was beautiful. Small, delicate, but not feminine. Dark hair, now slightly tousled as if he just had left his bed. Gray eyes, framed by incredible lashes. And his mouth was worth the risk of being murdered.

Now said mouth smiled, opened, and with a voice that caused shivers running up and down his opponent�s back, he asked.

�Come in, stupido, or do want us to get caught?�

Malco was angry. He was tired, that bastardo stupido out there didn�t move, and though it was already in the first days of April the nights were still a little chilly.

He took one step aside, not really looking at the man coming in from the cold. He closed the door hastily, and turned around to the stranger.

God, how he hated this. But he had promised his little sister Madelina to support her little affare di amore. Their parents would certainly disinherit them both if they were ever to find out that the chosen one of their little daughter was an artist. A painter called Tizian.

Never, ever would their parents allow this.

He knew that.

She knew that, too.

But because he loved her so much, he had let himself be persuaded by her sweet tongue. And that was the reason he was here now.

In the middle of the night.

In the kitchen of all places, confronted with the lover of his sister. He turned around to face him. His face was hidden beneath a black hood. But Malco could see that he was tall. Well, at least she seemed to have a good taste.

The flickering light from his candle threw weird shadows over the walls while the silence stretched.

Then Malco got curious. Bolder, he took one step forward, and asked,

�If I�m about to bring you to my sister, let me see your face first.�

The stranger raised both hands, which were covered with dark gloves, and with one elegant movement, he threw the hood of his cape back.

All that Malco could do was stare.

An artist? That man? His face itself seemed to be made by an artist. It was clearly defined, with high cheekbones. The hair was a light brown, and his eyes had the color of grass. His lips were turned upwards, as if he were smiling about a joke that only he could understand.

So that was the lover of his sister? That was Tizian?

Malco swallowed hard. Why did the best men always have to be taken? He sighed, barely audible. His sister would surely have fun with him.

The kind of fun that could cause her deep trouble.

The kind of fun that would cause him deep ecstasy.

�Come on now, I�ll bring you to her room.�

He was just about to turn around when a hand on his arm stopped him. The stranger spoke, for the first time since he had entered the room, and his words caused Malco�s heart to jump.

�I�m not here to see your sister.�

Jonatero Archerio was playing some kind of corriere de�ll amore for his best friend Tizian. The painter had had a date tonight, which he had to cancel though it nearly broke his heart. In his despair he had asked his friend and loyal companion for the last eight years, Jonatero, to bring a message to his lovely amica di cuore.

That was the reason Jonatero had sneaked his way through the dark like a thief in the night.

And now he was standing in front of one of the most handsome man he had ever seen. He pushed his hands deeper in his pockets to minimize the temptation of touching him when he felt the letter from Tizian.

A little embarrassed, he pulled it out and handed it over to the man whose name he didn�t even know.

�I shall just deliver this note from Master Tizian. He is tied up with business tonight, and he can not come to see your�sister.�

His voice sounded slightly questioning at the end, and the young man nodded, lost in thought, gazing down at the paper in his hand. Suddenly Jonatero pulled all his courage together, and murmured.

�May I have your name?�

The young man tore his eyes from the note, and for the first time that night he smiled. His smile simply took the older man�s breath away. It was blinding, put sparkles in those beautiful gray depths, and seemed to fill the room with a light brighter than the candle.

�My name is Malco di Reedi. My sister and I, we are distant relatives to Cosimo di Medici, the owner of this bello palazzo. Well, very, very, very distant. We are here for the summer months to find a suitable husband for my sister. But as you know, she has already made her decision. A decision that our parents will absolutely not agree to. And right now I wish I wouldn�t talk so much. And I wish I knew your name, too��

Now Malco stopped. He flushed with embarrassment. What would that man now think of him? He had been rambling again. And he didn�t even know the other man�s name. He turned away, and pressed his trembling hands against his hot face.

�I�m Jonatero Archerio. I�m a good friend of Tizian. He asked me to do him this favor tonight. And I must admit that I don�t regret it that I came here.�

Malco turned around again, and opened his mouth to say something, when a female voice from the door interrupted the two men.

�Mal? Isn�t he here yet?�

Malco smiled again, and opened the door carefully. He passed the note through, whispered a few words, and closed the door again.

The sad sighing of the woman was heard, and then the soft footfall, when she went back to her room.

�So��

Both men began simultaneously. Laughing, Jonatero gestured to Malco to speak first.

�I guess you will go home now?�

�Oh yes. It is late. I have to get up early tomorrow morning. My night is over with the first rays of the sun.�

�Oh, I understand. I would like to offer you a glass of wine, but��

Jonatero�s voice interrupted Malco mid-sentence.

�I would love to.�

�You would?�

Jonatero nodded, and was rewarded with another one of the young man�s blinding smiles. While he sat down on the clean scrubbed wooden table, Malco quickly put out two glasses and a bottle of Chianti. He poured it, and he also sat, raising his glass. The other man returned the gesture and with a soft cling they clinked the glasses.

�To new friends.�

�To the ones we love.�

Jonatero�s voice was soft. His gaze never leaving those gray eyes, he slowly took the first sip of his wine. It was excellent. The discomfort both had felt a few minutes ago was gone now. They began to talk easily, finding out that they had a lot in common.

They had lost all track of time when Malco heard a noise. Without thinking, he laid his hand on Jonatero�s arm to silence him.

A quiet chirping sound came from the outside. He rose and stepped to the window. Slowly the new day was dawning, the early birds had started singing, and the first rays of the sun were beginning to color the sky.

Malco didn�t dare turn around to look at Jonatero. The night was over, and so was their time spent together.

Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder, and when he finally found the courage to look at the older man, he saw an expression of sorrow in those green eyes that mirrored his own in a breathtaking way.

�I really must go now.�

Malco nodded.

�I know.�

�Will I see you again?�

In an instant the younger man�s heart beat faster. Could it be�?

�Do you want to?�

He didn�t know what he expected. Maybe the usual empty phrases such as �we should try to keep in touch� or something like that. But the answer he got was incredibly sincere and simple.

�Yes.�

�When?�

�Have you ever been to the Palio in Siena?�

�No.�

�It starts tomorrow. I�m there every year to support my contrada. Would you accompany me, please? If you want to��

�I want to!� he interrupted him without thinking.

Jonatero�s formerly insecure expression changed to a big smile.

�We have to start early tomorrow. It will take us a few hours to get to Siena. Do you want to go there by coach? Or would you like to ride?�

Malco gave it a quick thought, and the imagination of spending hours in a private coach alone with this man sent a shiver down his spine.

�I guess a coach would be more comfortable.�

Jonatero�s smile grew impossibly wider.

�I will come for you tomorrow at this time. I��

He stopped, and prayed for all the gods in heaven that he didn�t misread the signals emanating from this gorgeous man. He leaned forward, and pressed a quick kiss on those tempting lips. It was barely a touch, but it sent all his senses into overload. His mind was reeling, his hands shaking, his knees felt like they were giving way every second.

And then he felt the young man reciprocating the kiss.

It was heaven.

Bliss.

Danger.

If anyone saw them, they would be in a dungeon before they would be able to break apart from their kiss.

With all his power he backed away, cradling the young man�s face in his hands.

�Not here. Not now. I see you tomorrow and we will talk about it. About us. Arrivederci, amore.�

With one last look into those astonishing eyes, the tall man left, melting into the remaining shadows of the night, leaving Malco deep in thought.

The day went by with agonizing slowness. His sister was boring him with stories about her lover, or better�her soon-to-be lover. Or rather not-so-soon when he was asked. But he wasn�t. So he remained quiet, listened to her babbling, nodded every now and then when it seemed appropriate, and thought about green eyes, soft lips, and forbidden feelings. He was so deep in his own thoughts that he didn�t� notice that his sister had stopped talking. So he was startled when he suddenly saw her hand waving before his eyes.

�Mal? You alright?�

In vain he tried to pull himself together. The smile of reassurance he wanted to give her failed. And a look full of sympathy came into her eyes.

�Dio mio, brother. You are in love, aren�t you?�

She knew him too well. There was no sense in hiding his emotions from her. He simply nodded.

�Who is he?�

Being his sister, she also knew about his preferences in bed. She wasn�t shocked, or disgusted. She loved him for who he was, and for her it didn�t matter that he preffered men to women. In fact she liked the idea. They always had something to talk about. And going for a walk in the park with him was much more fun than with anybody else. They used to discuss the different men they met, and tried to imagine their good and their bad sides.

Now Malco rose his head, and his sister saw the sincere love in them. She swallowed hard. This time her brother was truly and deeply in love. She could read it in his eyes.

�Jonatero Archerio. He brought the note from Tizian last night.�

�He was there? In the Palazzo? And you didn�t show him to me?�

He gave her a deadly glare, and she had enough decency to blush.

�You�re right. Last night really was neither the right place, nor the right time. But is there a chance I can meet him?�

�Well�depends on how early you can get up in the morning.�

His smile became a little mysterious. And Madelina suddenly envied him�

Siena was filled with hundreds of people. The noises of the horses were heard in every part of the city, street hawkers were offering their deeds, and different languages could be heard.

Malco was overwhelmed. Jonatero could see it in the big, wide-opened eyes of his young friend. Constantly, they were pushed together or apart. The mood in the streets were excited, everywhere they could hear people yelling, and suddenly there was a cry from the far end of the street where they were walking.

The horses from the contrada came. Jonatero supported the contrada di pantera from the Via di Quirico. He was born and raised there and as a true son of his city he never missed a race of his contrada.

After the marching in of the ten participating contrada�s, the carroccio came, and with him the Palio, the wonderful banner and the desire of all the riders.

When the race finally began, the mood was boiling over, people yelled, horses neighed, and the riders had a hard time remaining on the bare horsebacks.

The race itself lasted only a few minutes, and after it was over the winning horse was celebrated like a true hero. Unfortunately it hadn�t been the horse from Jonatero�s contrada, but that didn�t seem to bother him. He was in a hilarious mood, laughing, singing, and greeting old friends and relatives.

Never forgetting Malco, who sometimes stood silently by his side. Every now and then Malco felt the tender touch of the other man�s hand on his back, or at his own hand. It made his skin tingle, and his heart beat faster.

Later that night they sat among a cheery crowd of people celebrating the Palio by eating and drinking. Jonatero and Malco would stay overnight with one of Jonatero�s relatives, an uncle who was by now well and truly drunk. Jonatero only laughed at a comment from Malco, saying that his uncle would sleep somewhere together with an equally drunk, nice and willing woman, and in the morning they would come back to the campo together, and would go on celebrating.

Tonight he and Malco would be able to sleep alone and undisturbed in his uncle�s house.

Alone.

A shiver ran down Malco�s spine at the opportunities that unfold themselves before his inner eye. He gazed at Jonatero, who had just clinked glasses with his older brother when he somehow seemed to feel the younger man�s eyes resting on him. He turned around, reciprocating the look, and found himself suddenly unable to go on drinking and laughing with his friends and his family.

All he wanted to do now was to take this amazing man in his arms and make love to him. Their eyes locked, and within seconds they simply nodded. Jonatero leaned over to his brother, whispering something in his ear, making the older man laugh out loud. He gave his brother a heavy pat on his back, causing him to stumble slightly, then he looked at Malco, grinned broadly, and yelled to Malco�s complete embarrassment,

�Have fun tonight. Go and celebrate life, amici!�

They left the street, turning some corners, leaving the crowd behind them until they finally reached a more quiet part of the city. After a few minutes Malco broke the silence between them.

�Your brother�does he know about�you? And me?�

Jonatero turned his head to look at the young man. His eyes were dark and unreadable in the pale moonlight.

�Yes, he does. I have no secrets to my family. He loves me. He may not always agree with my�decision�with the way I lead my life, but I am his brother and he loves me. No matter what. What about you and your family?�

Malco remained silent for a few minutes. His parents�dio mio! If they were ever to discover who he loved. His father would disinherit him as quickly as possible, trying his best to convince everybody that he never ever had a son as sick as him.

His mother would faint at first, and then she would probably die of embarrassment.

His older brother would most likely beat him to death.

Only his sister knew about him. And she loved him regardless.

He told Jonatero all of this in a very quiet voice. He didn�t want pity from the older man, he just told him the facts.

Nothing could have prepared him for the reaction of the other man. Without thinking, Jonatero pulled him in a hug, gently rocking him, assuring him wordlessly that it was safe for him to let go. Finally.

Their kiss was tender at first, then it grew more passionate, until they tried to devour each other open-mouthed. Panting, they parted after what seemed an eternity.

�Malco, come with me. Let me show you a life without fear. Let me show you a life full of love. Let me love you.�

Malco didn�t hesitate.

�Si, Jonatero. Love me. Love me the way that I love you.�

Moaning, Jonatero kissed him again, until he was able to part long enough to pull him inside his uncle�s house, push him into the bedroom, and undress him quickly (and very efficiently).

Their first skin-to-skin contact made both man moan in anticipation. Their passion rose again, and it didn�t take them long to reach their completion.

Sweating, entangled in each other�s arms, they fell asleep.

Only to wake up again two hours later. And in the first light of the morning they came together again, loving, tender, yet wild and passionate at the same time. When Malco entered the beautiful body of Jonatero he felt like flying. His head was dancing in the clouds while his body was grounded in the incredible love of the man close to him.

His hands roamed over the silken skin, caressing, memorizing every line, every inch. And when he came his shout of ecstasy flew to the early sun, disappearing into the golden colored clouds of the sunrise.

�I love you.�

Jonatero stretched luxuriously, bathing in the afterglow of his lovemaking. These words, murmured by his sleepy lover made his heart sing. He reached over to gently caress the other man�s cheek.

�I love you, too.�

He gazed lovingly at the dark-haired man by his side, who slowly drifted off to sleep. And he knew deep in his heart that he had found his destination. His love. And his reason for living.

�Stay with me.�

One gray opened, then the other, staring at him.

�What?�

Jonatero�s gaze never left his lover�s. He continued, his voice filled with emotion.

�I couldn�t stand losing you. Now that I�ve found you, I know what I�ve been missing.�

Malco remained quiet. He couldn�t believe what he was hearing. Last night had been a dream come true. But never in his wildest dreams had he dared to hope that this could be something lasting. And now he was looking in the green eyes of the Sienese man, seeing only honesty, sincerity and love.

But Jonatero became nervous. The silence stretched. Too long for his liking. Maybe he had been too fast? Wanting too much after too little time?

�We don�t have to stay here, we can go back to Florence, maybe San Gimignano. It�s beautiful there. We could live in one of the towers, only you and mmph��

Last night Malco had discovered a very effective way to silence the tall man. He simply kissed him senseless. And so did he now. This kiss was the answer Jonatero had hoped for. The deep kiss changed to little butterfly kisses, spread all over his face. And in between the kisses he heard a single word. A word that brought tears to his eyes. A word murmured in love.

�Yes!�

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