Meant to be Together - Part 2
Title: Meant to be together
Author: Beverly
Author's Contact: [email protected]
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 2
Washington
Harbour 1821
The �Seaman�s Pride� sailed
slowly into the harbour. It was plain to see that she had been in heavy
trouble. The mainsail was torn in many pieces, one mast was missing and she was
listing heavily. As soon as the ship was moored securely at the dock, a woman
ran up the gangway, searching for the captain. She was accompanied by a young
black man, who followed close on her heels.
Finally her eyes fell on the
man in a captain�s uniform. With energetic steps she moved close and addressed
him.
�Captain Miles?�
The captain turned. His
silver hair was tousled from the wind, his face was lined by many years in the
sun and the salty wind, his skin tanned. His amazingly blue eyes watched the
young woman intently before he answered,
�Aye, Ma�am?�
�You are late, Captain. Your
ship should have arrived here two weeks ago. Could you tell me what has
happened?"
The old man eyed her with an
unreadable expression. Then he turned and bellowed a few orders to his crew
before gazing at the young woman again.
�Who wants to know about
that?�
She straightened her posture
and reciprocated the look without any sign of fear, though internally she was
shaking heavily.
�My name is Lady Elizabeth
Tucker. My father is the owner of this ship line. And we were expecting a guest
who was supposed to be on this ship. Sir Jonathan Archer. And now would you,
please, be so kind to explain the reason for your delay? Then you can bring me
to Sir Archer�s cabin.�
The old captain closed his
eyes for a second, before he murmured quietly,
�We shouldn�t discuss this
here in the open, Ma�am. Please, follow me to my cabin.�
A shiver ran down her spine
as she followed the old seaman.
Down in the cabin, the old
captain told her with as much tact as he could, that the ship had been beaten
by a terrible storm lasting for three days. Sir Jonathan Archer had tried to
help. He had been climbing up high in the rigging while the ship was being
tossed around by the waves. One of the waves had caught him, and had washed him
overboard. He had never been sighted again.
Elizabeth Tucker kept her
composure amazingly well. Only the deep sadness in her eyes gave the old sailor
a vague impression of her feelings. She swallowed twice before asking in a very
quiet voice,
�When did this happen,
Captain?�
�About three days ago,
Ma�am. There�s no hope that the sea�ll let him go. By now the sharks might have
eaten him.�
She paled a little more, and
Captain Miles cursed silently. Hell, he shouldn�t have said that. But she had a
right to know it. There was absolutely no hope for the man to survive three
days out there on the sea. Even if he had found something to hold on to so that
he wouldn�t drown, there were still the aforementioned sharks.
Lady Elizabeth Tucker,
sister of Lord Charles Tucker, made it to her carriage without showing any sign
of weakness. But once inside its safety, she broke down completely.
Jonathan Archer had been a
friend of her family as long as she could remember. He and her brother Charles
had grown up together like siblings. Sobbing, she thought of all the tricks the
two boys had played on each other. And on her. And yet she had loved him
dearly. Loved him like she loved Charles.
This should have been a
visit full of joy, of laughter, and of memories.
Now all that remained was a
dull pain in her heart, and the grief of being the bearer of such horrible news.
Malcolm Reed rode slowly
along the sandy beach of his property. He had been lucky to buy one of the most
enchanting places along the coastline of America from the crown, and now he was
living here alone, accompanied only by his two Irish wolfhounds.
Originally, he was from
England. Two years ago he had killed a young man in a duel, defending the
honour of his sister. The parents of the dead man had insisted on banishing
him, and his father had been forced to send him away.
Far, far away.
He had no Inclination to
revolt. Silently, he had packed a few things together, had said good-bye to his
beloved sister, and had stepped on the next ship to America.
Because of his quiet
departure, his father had paid him whatever he could afford of his estate, so
he started his new life as a man without too many worries.
He had begun to cultivate
his land, and this year he would have a good harvest of corn. Right at the
moment there was nothing he could do. Today the sun was shining, the first time
after a whole week of constant rain and heavy storms.
So he had decided to take
advantage of the good weather and take a long ride on his horse along the beach
with his dogs, Aengus and Molly. It was late, shortly after dinner-time, and
darkness would soon fall.
The evening wind blew fresh
in his face, and enjoying the warmth of the late sun on his face, he closed his
eyes, Molly close as ever by his side. Suddenly he heard Aengus whining. Then a
deep, powerful �Woof!�.
Lazily he opened one eye,
searching for his dog. He spotted him about 100 feet away, and called him. But
Aengus didn�t obey. That was very unusual.
Malcolm watched him more
closely, and saw that Aengus tried to pull something out of the water.
Something big. And according to the large dog�s efforts, something very heavy.
Normally, it wasn�t his
habit to play with things like branches or twigs, so Malcolm rode closer.
And was shocked.
There, in his strong fangs,
Aengus held the collar of a man�s shirt. The dog had managed to pull the man
out of the sea, and drag him up the beach. Now he opened his fangs carefully,
and the man slumped down.
Malcolm dismounted from his
horse, and knelt down beside the unmoving form, searching for any sign of life.
To his relief he found a pulse, though it was weak and fluttering. He moved him
around, and searched quickly for any broken bones, but he found none and
decided that he could try to bring him home.
Suddenly the man opened his
eyes wide. They were green. Green like the sea stretching out before his eyes.
Malcolm stared into these green eyes.
�Who are you?� he whispered.
But instead of an answer the man suddenly writhed with pain, and vomited a
flood of saltwater. He cringed again, and for a few seconds his eyes held
Malcolm�s, then he shut them again, and fell back into unconsciousness.
It took Malcolm some time to
heave the heavy body on his horse's back, and when he finally managed it,
It was full dark. Slowly he led his horse homewards, luckily both knowing the
way by heart.
When he arrived at his
house, it took all of his strength to pull the unconscious man down again,
carry him inside, and up into the bedroom. When the tall man was finally lying
safe on Malcolm�s bed, he was panting from the efforts.
Malcolm undressed him, and
tucked him under the bedcover. Warmth. The stranger now needed warmth, and
sleep, and rest.
Tomorrow he would send for a
doctor, but tonight the man should just rest. Before he left the sleeping man,
he put a bucket next to the bed, just in case not all of the water had left the
man�s stomach. Exhausted, he made his way downstairs to the kitchen.
Caitlin, the young Irish
girl who cooked for him and kept his household clean, was already gone, so he made
himself something to eat, and finally went to sleep in his guestroom.
He awoke slowly.
His head hurt like hell, and
he felt torn and beaten. Every single bone in his body seemed to ache and every
muscle felt overstrained.
Groaning, he moved to his
side, feeling his stomach revolt instantly. He breathed deeply in and out,
willing his inner organs to come to rest. And it worked. After a few minutes
the nauseated feeling disappeared, and he carefully opened one eye.
He was lying in a bed in a
small room. In a small room that wasn�t moving. That excluded the ship.
Ship? What ship?
How did he come to think of
a ship?
He had never been on a ship.
Had he? He hadn�t. Right? He furrowed his brow, trying to think, but thinking
was painful. His head still hurt.
Thirst.
He was thirsty, and just
when he was about to get up to find something to drink, he heard a soft
footfall. The flickering light of a candle came near until it illuminated the
room, and a man tiptoed in. In his left hand he carried the candle, in his
right hand he had a glass of water. Then the man spoke.
�You are awake.�
A soft whisper, not a
question, but an ascertainment.
He nodded, not knowing what
to say. His whole attention was focused on the water in the other man�s hand.
�I thought you might be
thirsty.�
He nodded again, more
vehement now and the other man smiled, a shy smile that somehow touched his
heart.�
The other man came closer,
and handed him the glass. Greedily, he reached out for the glass, drowning it
in one big gulp.
And regretting it only
seconds later, when his stomach revolted, and he vomited again. The other man
managed just in time to hand him a bucket, and he retched miserably.
It took him some time to
come back to his senses, and to notice a hand gently running up and down his
back. Comforting him. Supporting him. And he heard the other man�s voice gently
soothing him with low, tender words.
�Sshh�quiet, it�ll go away.
Relax. Ssshh.�
He managed only one word.
�Water.�
The other man nodded slowly.
�I�ll bring you another
glass. But until I�m back, please, lay down, and try to relax.�
He nodded, and let himself
being pushed back. He watched the other man walk out of the room, feeling
suddenly terribly alone.
Alone.
Time to think.
Think.
It didn�t hurt so much now.
So he tried to think about how he ended up here.
And where was here?
What had happened? He
searched inside his head, but all he could find there was darkness.
Why darkness?
Panic rose inside him. Where
had he been? Why was he here? Where was here? Who was that man? Who was�?
His eyes went wide. Shivers
run down his spine, and the now familiar nauseated feeling came again�who was
he himself?
WHO WAS HE?
He remembered nothing!
There, where his memories ought to be, there was a huge gaping hole! Nothing!
He couldn�t remember who he was�where he was�why he was here�and where �here�
was.
He heard the other man come
back again, and stared at him wide-eyed. He didn�t know him. Or should he? How
could he? How could he know when he didn�t�know. A feeling between hysteria and
panic settled inside him, and he asked in a croaking voice:
�Who are you?�
The other man smiled. It was
a friendly smile. A warm smile. While handing him the glass of water, he
answered,
�My name is Malcolm Reed.
Here, drink this. But, please, slowly this time, yes?�
Numbly, he took the glass,
staring at the other man. And somehow he managed one final question.
�Who am I?�
Malcolm felt like he�d been
hit. What did he mean? What did he mean by �Who am I�?
He couldn�t remember? WHY
couldn�t he remember? How should Malcolm know his name? He tried to calm down.
Breathing in�breathing out�in�out�
Malcolm gazed deeply into
the other man�s eyes.
�What do you mean? Don�t you
remember?�
The other man shook his
head, his voice now sounded desperate.
�I remember nothing.
NOTHING!�
�SShh�please, don�t worry!�
Again the soothing voice,
the hand on his shoulder. Gently rubbing, caressing, calming.
�Lie down. We can do nothing
about it now. Go back to sleep, and we will talk about all this tomorrow, all
right? Sleep now.�
Malcolm gently pushed the
other man back into the cushions, and found his hand suddenly in a tight grip.
�Will you stay?�
He hesitated only for a
split second, then he saw the desperation in the stranger�s eyes and nodded, a
gentle smile on his face.
�Rest now. I will stay until
you sleep. Good night.�
The stranger held Malcolm�s
hand pressed to his heart, and after a few minutes the grip slowly loosened and
he could tell that sleep had finally caught the older man.
�Who am I?�
The question still rang in
his ears. Apparently he couldn�t remember why he had been lying on the beach.
Carefully he extracted his
hand from the now loose hold of the sleeping man. They would talk about this.
Tomorrow. They would talk about this tomorrow.
The next day brought sun
again. It was shining down from a cloudless sky, rapidly warming the air. The
birds were singing, and butterflies were playing.
Malcolm had been awake since
dawn, and was now standing in his kitchen, joking with Caitlin who was
preparing his breakfast.
�And who is he?� she asked
now, her green eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Malcolm smiled.
�I don�t know.�
Caitlin pouted. Her nice
face looked even better with that cute little pout, but Malcolm was immune to
it.
�How come you dinna know, Master Reed? He slept
in your bed last night.�
His smile faded slightly.
Yes, the stranger had slept in his bed. A thought that made his heart beat
faster. How he wished he could have joined him.
Caitlin was the only one
here who knew about his preferences. Knew that he liked women, but loved men.
She had found it out one day, and to his complete and utter amazement she had
stayed, telling him she felt even more safe in his house now. Now she knew he
would never try to seduce her. And he was eternally grateful for that kind of
understanding.
He was just about to answer
when a quiet voice coming from the door answered the young maid�s question.
�He can�t know it, Miss,
because I don�t know it myself.�
Malcolm and Caitlin turned
around to see the stranger stand in the doorway, swaying slightly.
He woke up to a bright sunny
day. His headache was gone, and he felt almost good.
Almost.
Still he had a big zero in
his brain, and couldn�t even tell his own name. But somehow he knew that he had
to be lucky to be alive. Slowly he got up, and looked around to search for some
clothes to wear.
On a nearby chair he found
underwear, trousers, and a clean shirt. Grateful for them, he dressed and left
the room in search of his host. The memories of the last night were somewhat
blurry, and he couldn�t quite recall his host�s face. His name was Malcolm
Reed, that much he could remember.
As he slowly walked down the
stairs, he heard a quiet murmur from behind one door. As he reached for the
doorknob, he heard a woman�s voice saying,
�How come you dinna know,
Master Reed? He slept in your bed last night.�
He pushed the door open, and
answered instead of the asked man.
�He can�t know it, Miss,
because I don�t know it myself.�
Both turned around to face
him, Reed�s face lighting up with pleasure.
�You are awake.� Malcolm
said, unconsciously repeating his words from last night.
Now the man smiled.
�Yes, I am.�
The girl seemed to be about
seventeen years old. A nice girl with long red braids and green eyes. Her
figure was slim, her voice was pleasant to hear. Now she quickly walked up to
him, pulled him over to the table, sat him down, and within a few minutes a
hearty breakfast was placed in front of him.
�Eat, sir. You�ll feel
better after that. Master Reed, would you like tea or coffee?�
Reed smiled, and sat down in
front of the stranger.
�Coffee, please. Thank you,
Caitlin.�
The cup was placed in front
of him, complete with a little bit of milk, just the way he liked it. Then
Caitlin excused herself. Today was her washing day, and she had to start soon
or she wouldn�t be able to finish it today.
The two man sat opposite
each other In silence, one eating, the other slowly sipping his coffee.
Finally Malcolm broke the
silence.
�How shall I address you?�
The stranger raised his
head, gazing at Malcolm.
God, that man had gorgeous
eyes. Not really blue, not really gray, a mixture of both. A colour that
reminded him of the skies above his Irish home.
His Irish home? His heart
skipped a beat. He remembered�
�I am from Ireland.�
His voice sounded careful,
questioning as if he wasn�t quite sure whether he could trust his own memories.
Malcolm�s eyes grew slightly wider.
�You remember?�
He nodded.
�What else?�
He furrowed his brow, closed
his eyes, thinking hard, but he had to give up at last. He shook his head
sadly,
�Nothing. That�s all.�
Malcolm covered the other
man�s hand with his own in a gesture of comfort.
�Don�t worry. It�s a start.
It means that your memory isn�t lost forever. Given time, you will remember
everything.�
�You think so?�
He pressed the hand quickly,
reassuringly, before releasing it again. And instantly the other man felt like
he lost something. He flexed his hand a few times, and pulled it up to his
heart.
�I�m sure. But until
then�how shall I address you?�
The man shrugged his
shoulders, helpless.
�I don�t know. What do you
think would fit me?�
Malcolm leaned his head to
one side and studied him closely. As he gazed at the beautiful face, the
handsome features, the clearly defined cheek-bones, an image sprang to his
mind.
Michelangelo�s David.
Once he had been in
Florence, and there, on the Piazza Signoria, he had seen the statue for
the first time.
It had amazed him. He had
been sure that never before he had seen something as beautiful as that.
Until now.
Now he gazed at a man who
seemed to surpass the beauty of the statue. And so, without hesitation, he
answered,
�David.�
�David?�
�Do you know the �David�
from Michelangelo Buonarroti?�
The stranger shook his head,
a questioning gaze in his eyes.
�It is a beau�statue in
Italy. I�ve seen it once, and I loved it immediately. You remind me of it.�
A sad smile lifted the
corner of the other man�s mouth.
�So cold and inaccessible?�
Malcolm stared at him in
shock.
�NO! Of course not!
But you remind me of him. Your face, your body, your�everything.�
�Thank you.�
The other man�s voice
sounded sincere. And so it was set. Until he could remember everything again,
his name would be David.
The next days and weeks went
by peacefully. Malcolm and David grew closer from day to day.
It turned out that David was
a very good rider. A when the harvest time came, he was as helpful as any
worker Malcolm had engaged.
One night they sat together
on the porch after enjoying Caitlin�s good meal, drinking a rich Italian wine.
Malcolm was telling him stories about his journeys, about Italy, about his home
in England. And how he had been forced to go away.
They were sitting side by
side, and when Malcolm told him about his parents and how they had abandoned
him, David put his arm around his shoulder, and pulled him closer.
It was a comforting gesture,
and for a second Malcolm relaxed into the other man�s embrace, before his
rational thinking kicked in again. But he managed to suppress every warning
thought. He closed his eyes, resting his head on the strong shoulder, enjoying
the comforting closeness of another man.
David thought nothing. He
just felt, and it felt oh-so-good. So he carefully nuzzled his face into the
smaller man�s hair, breathing in deeply.
And from somewhere deep
inside his mind, pictures came to the surface. Feelings, emotions. Love. And
hurt.
Kisses. Touches. A gasp. A moaned name
�Jon, oh god, Jon.�
A male voice. A breathless
voice. Involuntarily, he tightened his grip around the younger man�s shoulder.
Jon? Was that his name? It
sounded familiar. So maybe it was his name.
�Malcolm?�
�Hmm?�
�I guess�I guess I just
remembered something.�
�You did?�
Malcolm entangled himself
from David�s grip, and gazed at him in excitement.
�What do you remember?�
�My name?�
David�s voice sounded
insecure.
�And?�
�And what?�
Malcolm turned his eyes
upward, before gazing at David again.
�And what is your name?�
�Jon.�
�Jon.�
Malcolm repeated the name,
and looked at the other man. Then he smiled.
�That suits you.�
�Are you sure?�
�I am.�
Without hesitation, Malcolm
moved back into Jon�s embrace, snuggling closer to the solid form of the older
man.
�Do you remember anything
else?�
Jon�s arms closed almost
automatically around Malcolm again.
�No. But now I�m confident
that it will come�bit by bit.�
Suddenly Malcolm felt his
body react to Jon�s warm nearness. He freed himself again from the almost
loving embrace of the older man.
�I�ll go to sleep now. Good
night.�
Before Jon could reply,
Malcolm was gone.
And Jon was left outside on
the porch.
With an almost aching
hard-on.
�No, please! Don�t go!�
A desperate plea, sobbed
quietly. Jon sat straight upright. The soft murmuring touched his heart. For a
moment he wasn�t sure if he hadn�t dreamed, but then he heard the voice again.
More insistent now.
�Please STAY! Don�t leave me
alone! You can�t��
The voice now sounded more
urgent.
Malcolm!
Jon reacted purely on
instinct when he pushed his covers aside, left his bed, and followed the voice
until he stood in front of Malcolm�s door. He could hear a groan again, and
then�
�a yell! A cry, cutting
through to his heart, and without thinking Jon pushed the door open.
Malcolm sat bolt upright,
staring wide-eyed into nothingness, tears streaking down his cheeks.
�Malcolm?�
Jon�s voice didn�t reach the
younger man, who was still caught in his nightmare. Jon stepped closer.
�Malcolm?�
A little louder now. Still
no reaction.
�MALCOLM!�
Now he reached out, touched
the younger man�s shoulder and shook him slightly.
He was unprepared for his
reaction. With a gasp Malcolm came to his senses again, stared at Jon with
tear-clouded eyes, and threw himself suddenly into the older man�s embrace.
And Jon closed his arms
around him. He heard the sobbing of the other man, felt his body tremble, and
instinctively pressed him closer to his heart. He rocked him gently in his
arms, until he felt the trembling slowly, ever so slowly subside, until he felt
the body in his arms relax.
But Malcolm didn�t loosen
his grip.
They sat like that for
almost an hour. When Jon thought that the younger man had fallen asleep again,
he tried to free himself from the grip.
Not because he wanted to,
but because he felt his body react. Again. And it was embarrassing, for he was
sure that the young man simply drew comfort from his presence.
Nothing more.
Right?
Wrong!
The grip of the apparently
sleeping man tightened again, and a still barely audible voice murmured,
�Stay, please.�
Jon gave in to the impulse,
and gently stroked Malcolm�s dark hair.
�Are you sure?�
He felt the nod, and smiled.
Carefully he pulled his legs onto the bed, made himself comfortable, and in an
instant Malcolm plastered himself on top of the older man.
Gently, Jon pulled the
covers up to warm them both, and stroked the younger man�s back until he
could tell that he was really sleeping again.
With a deep sigh, he closed
his eyes, and followed him to dreamland within minutes.
He shivered in the cold, and
turned to seek the warmth of the body next to him. There had to be someone.
Inch by inch he scooted closer, until he found the other man. With a contented
sigh, he slipped his arms around the sleeping form of the other man, snuggled
closer, and went back to sleep within seconds.
� lightning � thunder
crashing � the roaring of the sea around him � water � everywhere was water �
pulling on him � drawing him down � tugging on him � drowning him � and then
there was a man � warmth � love � and the nightmare became a dream � loving
arms closing around him in the middle of the night � giving warmth and comfort
� giving so much, wanting so little in return �
It took Jon a while to come
to the surface of his dreams. And when he finally succeeded, he felt a body
pressed to his side. He didn�t dare to open his eyes, fearing this might just
be another dream. Then he remembered�
He remembered�
Remembered�
He sat up.
�I remember!�
�Huh?�
The sleepy voice from the
man next to him made him smile. As he rolled over, the covers slipped down,
revealing his usual morning hard-on, but Jon simply didn�t think about it right
now.
He beamed down at the
younger man, who still had his head buried in his pillow. And whose gaze, as he
opened his eyes, now fell directly on said erection, and who had to swallow
very hard. In his mind, Malcolm repeated again and again.
I will not
stare�I will not stare�I will�I will�God, I can�t stand it �I can�t make it �
It took all of his willpower
to tear his gaze away from the tempting sight, and to pretend interest. But
then slowly, the words came through.
�You remember?�
Jon nodded, his eyes shining
with a light that almost blinded Malcolm.
�What do you remember?�
�Everything. The ship, the
storm��
And he began to tell Malcolm
the story of the storm, and how he had been stranded.
�What made you remember?�
Suddenly Jon�s expression
changed. He seemed to become wary, more on his guard. And his voice sounded
hesitant when he answered,
�It was you.�
�Me?�
�Yes, you. Malcolm, I guess
there is something I think you should know about me.�
God, this was hard.
Malcolm�s face was so open, so trusting, and right now Jon wasn�t sure if this
expression wouldn�t turn to disgust, or even worse, to hate. He took a deep
breath.
�ItwasyoubecauseIthinkIloveyou.�
he almost stumbled over the words, spelling them out in one long breath.
Then he turned his head
away, waiting. For a few seconds there was nothing. Then �
�Huh?�
Incredulous, Jon looked back
at Malcolm.
�Is that all you have to
say?�
�I�m sorry, but I guess I�m
still too sleepy. What did you just say?�
Jon�s face fell a little.
�Are you kidding?�
�No, but � � now Malcolm
yawned heartily and rubbed his eyes. �It�s hard for me to understand anything
properly before I had my first cup of coffee.�
A knock on the door caused
both men to turn their heads and answer simultaneously,
�Come in.�
Caitlin was standing in the
doorway, a tray in her hands. A tray with two cups of coffee, two plates, and
everything that was needed for a very comfortable breakfast in bed � for two.
Malcolm gazed carefully at
Jon, who was staring at Caitlin and her big smile. Then, very slowly, he turned
to his companion.
�She knows?�
Malcolm nodded.
�She knows��
But Jon wasn�t finished yet,
he just had to swallow, and so both men finished the sentence together.
��about me. About you?�
They stared into each
other�s eyes, while Caitlin put the tray down, smiled even more brightly, and
left the room quietly.
Now they were alone.
Jon was staring down at his
hands, while Malcolm�s still sleep-blurred brain tried to put all the
information together. Finally he put one finger under Jon�s chin, lifting it
gently so the older man had to look into his eyes.
�Jon � what was it you
thought I should know?�
Still avoiding his eyes, Jon
blushed furiously.
�I love you," he
murmured, barely audibly, and was surprised to hear a soft laughter from the
man next to him.
�Thank god. Otherwise you
would have killed me for that.�
And with these words Malcolm
closed the gap between them, kissing him gently.
It was slowly and tender at
first, but soon fire took over. Too long they'd had to suppress their feelings.
Too long they'd had to pretend they were someone they weren�t. Too long each
had yearned to feel the body of another man pressed up against his own.
And now the kiss was the
final flame, the last spark that was necessary to cause the explosion.
Hands roamed over silken
skin, each playing with the other man�s body like it was a fine tuned
instrument. Jon craved the nearness of Malcolm, and he pulled him closer and
closer, until they both seemed to become one.
�I love you. I love you so
much��
Malcolm whispered those
words over and over again, kissing every inch of Jon�s exposed skin, licking
and biting. Slowly he moved deeper, teasing the older man�s nipples until they
were like hard little pebbles.
He kissed his way down,
until he finally reached his goal -the erection� that had caught his eyes earlier
this morning.
It had been so long.
So long since he had made
love to a man that way, open, loving, and in the light of the day.
Not in the shadows. Not in
some dark alley. Without further words, he kissed the hard cock, kissed the tip
before gently licking along the sides, returning to the tip, and finally
swallowing it whole.
Jon fell back on the bed,
closed his eyes, and tried his best not to push up blindly into that wet
warmth. A deep moan escaped him, followed by some gasps, as Malcolm licked his
cock again.
�God, Malcolm, you�re
killing me.�
Never releasing his grip on
his lover�s hardness, Malcolm moved up to kiss him, hard, demanding.
�How do you want me?�
Jon opened his eyes wide.
�What do you mean?�
The younger man�s smile
became almost predatory.
�You know what I mean. Do
you want to take or be taken?�
The smile that now crossed
Jon�s features was almost blinding in its intensity.
�I love it both ways. How
about you?�
Malcolm giggled softly.
�Same here. But right now,
there is nothing that I would love more than to feel you buried deep inside of
me��
With an animalistic roar,
Jon rolled them both over, so that he was lying on top of his lover. Now it was
his turn to kiss Malcolm slowly senseless. As he worked his magic on that
beautiful body, Malcolm was soon writhing underneath him. And while Malcolm
wasn�t looking, Jon carefully pulled the butter nearer�and he lubed his index
finger with it, and then slowly, very slowly and carefully he searched for the
entrance of his lover�s body, and pushed his finger inside.
A deep groan escaped the
parted lips of the younger man. He had his eyes closed, and concentrated on
those feelings his lover evoked in him. On the gently rhythm he set up, on the
soft kisses that rained down upon his body.
And then a second finger
entered him, and all thinking flew to heaven. He became pure bliss, emotion,
and when he felt his lover�s lips close around his hardness, he arched his back
and came.
He came in long, warm,
almost painful spurts in his lover�s mouth. Sobbing he collapsed back down on
his bed, caught by the strong arms of his lover.
He hadn�t meant it to be
over so soon, but it had been too long for him�too long since the last time�he
tried to explain, stumbling over the words that rushed out of his mouth. He was
silenced with one of the most tender kisses he had ever experienced. Jon
whispered lovingly into his ear,
�We have our whole life
ahead of us. What do you worry about?�
�I wanted it to be perfect.�
Laughing quietly Jon
replied,
�But it WAS perfect.�
�But you didn�t come, and..�
�What makes you think that?�
Jon interrupted the rambling from the younger man. Malcolm gazed at him
questioningly. Then Jon gestured with his head down. Down to his cock. Down to
where the unmistakable signs of a climax were slowly drying on his skin.
�You came?�
Jon nodded grinning.
�It�s a miracle I didn�t
come the moment you closed your wonderful mouth around me. But then, when you
came�your face, your taste, the noises you made �it was too much for me, and
I�well�I came.�
�You�re amazing.�
They kissed tenderly, before
Jon replied.
�So are you.�
With a happy smile in his
eyes, Malcolm went on,
�And we have our whole life
ahead of us, right?�
Jon nodded.
�I would never leave you,
Malcolm. I found you�or better � you found me. And it was destiny.�
�I love you, Jon�what did
you say was your whole name?�
Laughing, Jon answered.
�My whole name is Sir
Jonathan Archer. I am here to visit an old friend of mine, Charles Tucker. We
grew up together. Do you think I could send word to him by a messenger later
today?�
Malcolm nodded, pulling Jon
down to him.
�Of course, Caitlin�s
brother Rory can deliver the note. But now kiss me, Sir Jonathan Archer, and
let me show you once more how much I love you��