Disclaimer: I don't own, or have anything to do with, the amazing Michael Palin or Eric Idle. Or the other fabulous Pythons. They are real people and own themselves. I just fawn over them like the squeeing fangirl that I am.

Definitely an M rated chapter... ;)

Chapter Ten

Eric stared wistfully at the bathroom. Oh god, it's a sad sad moment when you're longingly ogling at a bathroom… what the fuck is wrong with you Idle?

Michael is not going to be happy with me, wetting the bed like some pathetic school boy… like he needs any more incentive to be pissed off with me…

This is not going to get you into a warm shower or bath anytime soon. Michael is not coming back anytime soon and if you are going to do this, you have to do this on your own. He thought to himself sternly, trying to get himself motivated to start the long, arduous task of making his way from his place on the disgusting brown carpet to the bathroom only five or so metres away. Fuck, it should not be even deemed in the realms of long and arduous… it's hardly Mount Everest.

"Come on Idle, get moving…"

He was fast becoming more and more uncomfortable, both from his awkward position on the floor and the wet and sticky mess of his underwear and pyjama bottoms. When the hell did I get put into my pyjamas? He mused suddenly, the thought jumping out from nowhere. If Michael's version of events in that week he was in utter hell was accurate then he would not have been in pyjamas at Doune… he must have undressed me…

A shiver, (that had nothing to do with the unbelievable cold he felt), ran down the entire length of his body at that thought. Do not go there Idle, don't…

If I don't get moving now, I'm going to be here forever…

He fleetingly thought about trying to stand and walk, but dismissed that as soon as it came. There was bugger all chance of that happening. Fuck… what if I don't walk again… maybe I should have listened to Mikey…

Taking several deep breaths, he pushed himself up on his knees and started crawling. Thank god no one is here to see this… Oh fuck, I'm hardly thirty seconds in and I've had enough. This is fucking ridiculous.

He was seriously questioning deep within himself whether he would get there. But the thought of Michael (if he even came back), finding him in such a vulnerable position was enough encouragement to keep moving. Even if he had to army crawl the rest of the way. He could always relax his agonisingly aching bones and muscles once he got into that bath, or shower. Why on earth I feel like I've gone through ten rounds with Ali I have no idea…

What seemed like hours, possibly days later, he crawled onto the tiled floor of the bathroom. Now the next thing was to get his sticky clothes off his person, and get into the bath…

He looked at the bath – another problem loomed large. He was never going to get in there on his own in his current state… the shower would have to do. I wanted a bath damn it…

Leaning against the shower frame, he pulled off his well-worn pyjama shirt and with careless abandon, tossed it onto the floor. Using the shower as leverage, he dragged himself up to his full height – all six feet one of him – to get out of his sticky, messy bottoms.

At long last he was ready to soothe his aching muscles and cleanse himself of the icky mess he found himself in. He virtually crawled into the shower, closed the curtain and turned on the taps – first the cold, followed by the hot and adjusted both until he found the perfect warmth that he was more than happy to wash his troubles away, or at least attempt to…

He sighed in relief as he allowed himself to sink to the bottom of the shower recess – not caring in the slightest if this was not considered the 'right' thing to do.

Crap… I should have done something with the sheets… fuck Mikey is going to kill me…

Defiant tears escaped from his baby blue eyes as he thought of Michael. I should have been fucking man enough to at least hear what he had to say… fucking hell Idle, you're nothing but a useless coward.

I hope one day he'll forgive me…

Michael had no idea how long he had been out in the near frostbite inducing conditions (he had left his watch in the motel room in his haste to leave), but suspected it had been a good two hours or possibly more.

"Why on earth did I lose it like that?" He wondered, still not quite believing that he lost his temper so badly at Eric. Perhaps it's because you just could not keep everything in anymore. You just had to talk to him, find out one way or the other, didn't you? Even if it was too soon for him. But how much longer should I have to wait?

And a still-recovering Eric no less. What was it that Graham said Eric had? Something called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. He had never heard of it before, but it was a new concept in the world of medicine so that was unsurprising. It didn't sound the best thing to suffer from, and if that is indeed what Eric had, then he knew first-hand how bad, how awful it was for all concerned.

Michael went through a mental checklist of some of the symptoms. Constant recurring nightmares. Check. Flashbacks? Well, he wasn't sure about that one, but something was going on. Avoidance or refusal to talk about feelings (or about anything in Eric's case). Check. A decreased involvement in significant life activities. Check – hell, even just the normal, everyday stuff was a considerable challenge at the moment. Intense negative psychological or physiological response to any reminder of the traumatic event. Check. Difficulties falling or staying asleep. Perhaps… particularly while he was virtually comatose, and he certainly did not like to be alone when going back to sleep. Difficulties concentrating. Check.

And you had to go and fucking yell at him like some prat. Nice one.

At that moment he heard a loud clash and rumble of thunder. "Great." Well it's not like you don't deserve it Palin. As the rain began to fall (quite heavily), he decided he should make his way back before he caught pneumonia. And that wouldn't bode well for anyone.

I hope Eric doesn't hate me for my outburst.

I hope he can forgive me…

Despite the fact Michael had remembered to take his coat, (well he would have been very stupid not to given the fact he has lived his whole life in cold, dreary England), he was still soaked by the time he stumbled into the motel room some fifteen minutes later.

He hesitated momentarily before entering the bedroom. Please let him forgive me, please. He then turned the doorknob and walked in… only to find an empty bed.

This floored him – almost literally in addition to metaphorically.

Where the hell is he? And how? He can barely stand up for ten seconds.

"Eric?" He called out, expecting no response. Michael did not think he would have gotten very far given his weakened condition. It was as this thought fermented and became entrenched in his mind that he noticed an unusual smell drifting round the room. It was something he hadn't experienced since he was a young child, something unmistakable once identified.

"Oh hell… he's wet the bed…" The entire time he had been looking after, caring for Eric he had not done this before. "I bet I know exactly how this happened, he would have cried himself to sleep after I stormed out (and it's not like he doesn't have abandonment issues already), had a nightmare that was horrific enough for him to have an accident… hope you're proud of yourself Palin."

Michael shook his head, in a mixture of anger at his stupidity and guilt for adding to Eric's misery. "Now where is he?" He then became attuned to some noise coming from the bathroom. Ah, he's having a shower… hell he must have crawled in there – I'd hardly think he's suddenly walking…

He deliberated on what to do next. Did he leave him be for a while, let him have his shower in peace? Maybe he should take care of the now soiled bedding... Or did he go in and see if he was alright, if he needed any help…? "Would he really want me in there after I went off at him? I don't think I would if the situation was reversed." A naked Eric though… that is one serious temptation…

His mind drifted into one sweet, sweet fantasy (well, perhaps not such a fantasy given he had seen the man naked before – hell he'd lovingly bathed him). He imagined that tall, delicate, slender body all wet and shiny from the irresistible, (almost lethal), combination of soap suds and water droplets, his long blonde curls a shade darker from the water, his long legs that seemingly went forever, his most person-

Hold it right there Palin. You don't even fucking know if the man is seriously interested so stop right there.

He decided that he better take the dirty bedding down the motel's laundry. By the time that's done he'll be finished.

Michael came back an hour or so later with clean bedding in hand. He dumped it all onto the bed rather haphazardly and was about to make the bed when he realised there was no sign of Eric. Was he still in the shower? The sound of water streaming indicated that yes, he was in the shower. "Fuck. That can't be good… can it?"

He rushed to the bathroom door, becoming more apprehensive with each step. "Eric? ERIC?"

No response. All he could hear was the blasted water running. A foreboding sense of dread ran right through him – not unlike that feeling of someone walking over one's grave… And he didn't like it, not one bit…

In a fit of panic, he tried the door, and to his immense relief found that it was unlocked. The first thing he became aware of was condensation choking the small room. Eric must have forgotten to turn on the exhaust fan, but he couldn't give a flying toss about that. What he did care about (and cared quite deeply), was the man in the shower, who was scaring him perhaps more than ever before in these two weeks with his lack of response.

Michael cast the shower curtain to one side with force he didn't know he had. He was lucky he didn't rip the curtain from its hinges. What he saw made his heart stop…

Not caring in the slightest that he was getting a second pair of his clothes drenched, he stepped inside and brought a limp Eric into his arms, shaking him none too gently. "Eric, wake up… come on you have to wake up."

No response.

Fuck. "Come on Eric, do not do this… you cannot do this to me. Wake up, please…"


"Fuck… come on you miserable bastard…"

Not knowing what else to do, he tried the 'Kiss of Life'. He had no idea if it worked, but he had seen it in movies and he had nothing else. Placing his lips on top of Eric's, he breathed for him; hoping against hope that he would wake up, breathe, cough, do something.

Still nothing.

Oh. God… "Eric, please don't do this, please. I love you…"

He put his lips to Eric's once more, praying to any deity listening to let him see Eric's pale blue eyes again. Several agonising moments later he felt those lips press back…

It was dark. Pitch black.

It was cold. Dreadfully cold.

He didn't know where he was. It was most eerie and unnerving (and that was something given everything he had been through lately). A heavy mist surrounded him, blanketing everything in sight. Come to think of it, he wasn't sure if there was anything besides him wherever he was… and he didn't like that, not one bit. For all he knew he was the only thing in existence.

He couldn't see; couldn't feel anything. Ever so cautiously he outstretched his hand, waving it in front of his face.

Nothing – he couldn't even see that.

He wasn't sure he could feel heart beating…

Had he died?

Surely not…

"Eric, wake up… come on you have to wake up."

What was that? And who was it? And why were they telling him to wake up?

"Come on Eric, do not do this… you cannot do this to me. Wake up, please…"

There was that voice again. Telling him to wake up… it sounded so pleading. So sad. It broke his heart. And why did that voice sound so familiar?

"Fuck… come on you miserable bastard…"

Damn that voice sounded familiar, why couldn't he place it? It was right on the tip of his tongue…

Out of nowhere he felt a presence there right with him. He couldn't be quite sure but it felt like this person was holding him…

And if that surprised him, feeling tender yet hurried lips atop of his completely knocked him for six…

"Eric, please don't do this, please. I love you…"

Love? Who loved him?


Was that who it was?

Slowly but surely he was aware of more things (he appeared to be very wet, and possibly naked – a shower?); particularly that mouth on his for the second time in as many minutes.

He hoped with all his heart that it was Michael's embrace, Michael's lips he was feeling, Michael who was telling him he loved him…

Had he been forgiven?

He couldn't take it anymore. He could not stand the sadness, the guilt he heard in the other man's voice, and he most definitely could not handle the suspense any longer. He had to find out if it was indeed Michael…

He cautiously pressed his lips against Michael's…

Eric's eyes flickered open, (and he was very pleased to be able to see colour and not just thick fog and blackness), to see a startled, and very much relieved Michael staring back at him…

Michael almost dropped his hold of the older man in shock, opening his eyes to see those baby blues gazing sleepily back at him. The heavy one-sided discussion from hours earlier forgotten he flung himself onto an unsuspecting Eric, clutching him tightly; peppering him with wet and tender kisses on the top of his head, his forehead, cheeks, nose. No part of his face and upper body was left untouched. All the while saying, "Thank god" and "I'm sorry, I love you."

He loves me? He loves me?

You better not be pulling my leg Mikey…

He can most definitely keep kissing me though – I love that.

In the meantime, Eric had put his arms around a fully clothed Michael and nestled into his embrace. Finally, he asked, his teeth (and whole body) chattering. "You… you… lo-… love m… me?"

Please let it be true…

Even now Michael could see the fear, the apprehension in Eric. In that instant he knew Gray was right, Eric was waiting for a sign from him. He wanted to kiss that unease away. He nodded firmly. "It took me this whole fucking mess to realise it, but I do, I do love you."


"Yes, Eric. Really."

Oh. My. God. He does love me! That's the best thing to happen to me in such a long time. And here I was thinking he didn't feel anything for me… except hatred perhaps...

He saw the corners of Eric's mouth turn upwards into a smile; a big smile. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen Eric smile. Seeing him do so made Michael smile even more than he was sure he already was.

"Me too."

Michael's smile grew even more.

Eric shivered, his whole body shuddering. It was then that Michael realised that the water had long gone cold and heaven knows how long Eric had been under the freezing water. He reached up to turn off the water and then focused his attention back to the man lying in his arms.

"Are you cold?"

He nodded, "Fr… fr.. freez…ing."

What about you Mikey?

He then saw Eric stare at him as if deep in thought. "You?"

Michael chuckled at this, grinning at the other man's empathy and compassion. "Just a bit. Let's get out of here and get warm eh?"

Yes, I need warmth, I'm so cold. I'm sick of being so cold…

And if I can warm up with you even better…

Eric nodded again, snuggling even deeper into the younger man's chest. "Mhm."

Michael lovingly carried a drowsy Eric to the couch. He was burrowed deep in his shoulder, alternating between watching Michael with sleepy eyes and resting those said baby blues in his embrace. Michael gently laid him down, making sure a cushion was resting under his head.

As he did this, Eric looked up at him in mild bewilderment. "Huh? Wha?"

Michael couldn't refrain from chortling at Eric's confusion. "I've got to make the bed before you can hop back in it mate."

Eric averted his eyes from Michael, dropping his head in embarrassment; unable to look him in the eye. "Sorry Mikey."

Michael sighed, and he got down on his knees to be on an even level with his newfound love. He cupped his fingers under Eric's chin so they were looking each other in the eye, their foreheads touching. "Oh Eric, don't be sorry. It wasn't your fault."

The older man shook his head, clearly still embarrassed, and suspicious and sceptical of Michael's words. "Yes… it was me who… who y'know…"

Michael kissed his forehead, trying to kiss away his troubles. "Hey, it wasn't your fault, okay? You hear me?"

Eric eventually nodded a minute or so later. "Okay."

"Good." Michael kissed his lover (a thrill went through him at that thought, or was that the fact that he was now freely allowed to kiss Eric?), softly on the lips, tentatively at first but when he felt Eric kiss back he pushed the boundaries a little higher – his tongue seeking entrance when given an opening. Knowing that Eric shared his feelings gave him the confidence to do so. Eric greedily accepted and was quick to reciprocate, sliding his tongue into Michael's inviting mouth.

Eric found it almost impossible to hold back a moan, his hand absently finding a clump of Michael's dark tendrils and fingers winding and twisting in the growing locks. His other hand holding tightly onto the younger man's neck pulling him closer. Michael for his part had one hand similarly locked in Eric's long blonde tresses, his free hand finding its way underneath the wet hair and onto Eric's bare back.

They finally pulled apart; that thing called oxygen becoming a necessity. Michael happily observed Eric for several moments, in awe of his reaction. His eyes were shut, and a sleepy yet satisfied smile was spread across his handsome and delicate face. His fingers gently brushed through the blonde curls, and then those pale blue eyes opened. They were shining and dreamy like in appearance. Michael loved to see him so happy after all he had been through, and was pretty sure what he saw in Eric would be reflected in his features.

"You alright?"

Eric nodded groggily. "Mhm. Can we do that again?"

Michael laughed, "Yeah, I promise."

A lazy grin adorned Eric's face. "Now?"

"I need to make that bed… unless you want to sleep here on the couch all night."

Eric snuggled onto the cushion. "Comfy. Stay." He said, patting the space beside him.

"You say that now. You'll hate me in the morning if I let you sleep there all night. I'll be back soon and then you can sleep on the much more comfortable bed."

"You sleep with me?"

Michael chuckled, grinning; enthralled by this very cute and childlike Eric. "Yes."

Fifteen minutes later when Mike had made the bed (only for it to be messed up again, he mused), he found Eric sound asleep on the couch. His mind may have been playing tricks on him, but he thought that the slightly older man looked more peaceful than he had since this whole bloody mess started almost two weeks ago. It was amazing what small difference love made. Or more to the point, just being happy. It's funny what love can do…

Eric woke up in darkness, under a cocoon of heavy, warm blankets. It was lovely to feel so heavenly warm – something he couldn't remember feeling much of for such a long time.

He snuggled a little deeper into the pillow, pulling the duvet tightly around him. He rubbed his eyes in the darkness. He had no idea what time it was, but suspected it was very early morning given the total blackness covering the room. How did I end up back in here? Didn't I fucking wet the bed after Mi-?

He smiled to himself as happy memories from hours earlier came back to him. Michael must have tucked him in (oh how he loved that thought), after Michael had smothered him with kisses and admitted his love in the shower and then their amazing kiss a few minutes later on the couch.

Did that mean Mike was sleeping beside him?

His sleepy smile turned into a grin as that thought took hold in his mind. A hand subconsciously felt in front of him and, then he slowly rolled over to the other side and found himself mere centimetres away from the man taking centre stage of his conscious. Michael was sleeping soundly beside him, his back facing him. Without a moment's hesitation he wrapped his arms around his new love's slender frame, encircling him in his embrace. Hell, he's so warm…

He rested his chin on Michael's shoulder, placing a gentle kiss in the small space between his neck and shoulder. A sliver of electricity jolted through his entire core at this one little kiss. It both startled and excited him all at once. Why would one teeny kiss affect him so much? On the flipside, if this was the feeling he felt now; imagine how much more would be?

His wayward hands began massaging the sleeping man's stomach and his side that wasn't lying upon the soft mattress. He placed another tender kiss to the same spot he had moments earlier, allowing it to linger for a little longer than its predecessor. He kissed it again, this time biting and sucking gently at that spot he now seemed so fond of inbetween his neck and shoulder.

One of his hands had travelled south to Michael's hipbone and seemed happy resting there. His other hand couldn't seem to get enough of Mikey's soft, thick dark brown hair, his fingers curling and brushing the dark strands. He then brushed his hair away to leave the back of his neck exposed, and proceeded to place delicate kisses all over that said neck.

What's got into you Idle? Are you trying to rape a sleeping man?

No, He protested inwardly to himself, I'm trying to wake up a sleeping man so I can show him how much he means to me – say thank you for all the shit I'm sure he's had to deal with looking after me. No more Idle, you are going to stop this bullshit…

While he was having a deep and meaningful with himself, Michael had slowly woken from Eric's kisses and caresses. His eyes fluttered open in the darkness, and he was pleasantly surprised to find himself in Eric's arms – his back flush against the older man's naked upper body and torso (he couldn't change him back into his pyjamas… they still needed to be washed).

He tried to keep himself as still as possible while Eric showered him with soft kisses, on seemingly any naked piece of flesh that was available to him, which admittedly wasn't a whole lot at this point… That however was possibly going to change very quickly if Eric kept up this gentle, yet constant assault on his senses.

He gave himself away when a soft moan emitted from his lips. Eric stopped mid-kiss, this one on his hairline, and crooked his neck so that he was looking at Michael.

"You awake Mikey?" His voice was lower and huskier than he had ever heard it, save for perhaps when he was shooting some hot, sexy scene for Flying Circus.

"How could I not be with you attacking my neck and shoulder with your mouth? Not that I'm complaining, it's a lovely wake up call."

Eric chuckled throatily. Oh how that particular sound sent shockwaves through Michael's entire body – ending with a familiar ache beginning to make its presence felt in his loins. It was such a joyous moment to hear him laugh – he had not heard it for so long.

"Couldn't sleep." Was the response given – and in a rather childish whine – albeit in that husky tone.

Michael was somewhat concerned at this. "You okay? No nightmare?"

Eric smiled, "No, just couldn't sleep…"

Mike chuckled, turning to face his bed partner (and hopefully a partner in so many more ways). "Ah right. So what do you want me to do about it Ewic? Read you a story?"

Eric pouted in the darkness; Michael being able to see it through a tiny speck of moonlight peeking through the heavy curtains. Even if he couldn't see it, he'd be able to readily vision it. "Noooo Mikey…"

"Well, what Ewic?"

In his most innocent voice, Eric asked, "Help me go to sleep, please?"

"How?" Michael asked, just as innocently.

Eric closed the tiny gap between them and kissed him. It was a very brief, and very sensual kiss – and Mike was sure Eric was doing it on purpose just to give him a taste of what was to come – to get him all excited…

"Is that it is it?"

He could see the golden haired Eric nod.

"So a midnight lullaby then?"

Eric shrugged, grinning. "If it involves kissing and other things, sure."

Michael chuckled. "A midnight lullaby it is then."



"Shut up and kiss me."

Mike complied without question, pulling him into his arms. He kissed him greedily; Eric's slow and tender assault from minutes earlier had put him in a rather amorous mood (which was proven by his hardening erection). Eric happily, eagerly reciprocated; as flashbacks of a dreamy memory from those hellish days came to him – Michael making him cum by merely using those talented hands of his. That, coupled with the feel of Mike in his arms, (for real this time), and his growing arousal, left him in a similar state.

Tongues clashed and fought for control, moans and sighs of pleasure escaping as hands thoroughly explored naked flesh. Michael broke the kiss, which caused Eric to whine plaintively.

"Hush love." Michael breathed, as he lovingly mirrored Eric's seduction from earlier, his lips finding and exploring the older man's neck and shoulders. This resulted in his lover fidgeting in anticipation against the pillows; tangling his fingers in the dark brown hair for the umpteenth time that evening.

"You getting sleepy yet?" Mike asked, as he momentarily paused from his actions, looking up at Eric.

"Huh?" Eric's response sounded like he had completely given into a haze of lust. Michael smiled with pride in the darkness.

"You getting sleepy yet?"

Eric shook his head, "No way. Don't stop Mikey."

"Alright." He shrugged, in an attempt to be nonchalant. He continued his downward trail of kisses, his mouth unable to resist devouring first his right, then left nipple, biting on each fiercely – causing Eric to moan loudly and thrust his erection toward Michael's – before soothing each with a flick of his tongue.

Eric was on Cloud Nine; if this was what heaven felt like he wanted, needed, more. But when Michael's wandering hands and mouth began leaving a trail of wet kisses on his stomach and belly button, he knew he had to do something before he completely lost control of the situation.

Michael was a little (but not overly), surprised when Eric suddenly sat up and said "Your turn Mikey…"

With a strength that he hadn't even come close to showing of late he pushed the younger man onto the pillows and kissed him hungrily, his tongue probing with force. He could easily get lost in that mouth of Michael's… and grinned inwardly as a groan escaped from the smaller man.

Eric pulled off the pyjama shirt – throwing it onto the bed. As Michael had done to him, Eric roamed Michael's chest with his mouth and hands, his nose nuzzling in the tiny fine hairs. One of his unruly hands again travelled south towards Mike's now fully erect cock.

"Fuck…" Michael gasped when his hand did indeed find his member, cupping it through his pyjama bottoms. "Eric…"

"What?" Eric asked slyly, his hand had snuck inside, and was now stroking his full length up and down.

"Oh… god…"

"Do you like that Mikey?"

"Fuck yes."

Eric grinned, kissing him tenderly, sensually. When they broke apart, he put his mouth to Michael's ear and whispered, "Just you wait Mikey…"

Having divested Michael of his last two pieces of clothing (with his help), his wandering mouth kissed his inner thigh, causing Michael to shudder dramatically in anticipation, and it was his turn to thrust his erection in Eric's hand.

Eric could not control himself any longer, his tongue licking the tip of Michael's cock, ever so slowly – his long, elongated fingers still stroking, alternating between quick and slow.

Michael almost came right then and there. "Jesus Eric… so good..."

Eric looked up and smiled. Michael sat up and met Eric for another kiss, and was able to taste his own pre-cum on Eric's tongue. His hand now found its way to Eric's straining erection, rubbing it gently, and Eric practically growled into his kiss.

He took advantage of Eric's lapse in concentration and flipped them so that Eric was again lying against the pillows. He laughed at his bemused look. "I thought you said you wanted some help getting to sleep." He teased, his voice just as husky as Eric's.

Eric let out a confused grunt as Michael spat into his hand, and placed his pointer finger gently inside of Eric, causing the blonde to gasp and let out a curse. "Ssh love." He placated, adding a second and third finger inside, slowly going deeper inside his lover as he kissed Eric's stomach tenderly, making his way through the light golden forest of hair there.

Eric groaned, this time in pleasure as Michael's talented fingers did their work, ensuring that Eric was lubricated enough for Michael to slide in easily – giving the older man great satisfaction in the process.

"You sure?" Mike asked, "We don't have to if-"

"I'm sure." Eric replied dreamily, his head being supported by the pillows, his hair wildly framing around his baby blue eyes, slightly damp from sweat.

"Alright." Gently, Michael eased into Eric's opening, pushing only the tip in to allow Eric a chance to adjust. Both moaned in sheer delight – finally being joined as one.

Michael slowly pushed himself in, gradually getting deeper with each soft plunge. He revelled in this new, wondrous sensation – enraptured by the feel of Eric so tight around him. It was something he could get very, very easily addicted to. Eric felt something akin to how he imagined girls feeling on their first time, almost unbearable pain soon followed by unbelievable bliss as his prostate was hit again and again. Michael's hand was now on Eric's rock hard member, stroking it in time with his thrusts.

Eric was on sensory overload by this point, only weakly meeting the younger man's thrusts. All coherent thought had long past him; all he could do was feel Mikey…

Michael was not far behind him – as he was fast reaching his peak – however sensed that Eric was so close to release.

"It's okay Eric, you can cum. You know you want to…"

One more thrust, one more stroke of his erection combined with Michael's words was enough to set him off – calling out "God, Mikey…" over and over as Michael continued to plunge faster and faster. Hot, sticky semen was all over Michael's hand and stomach and hearing Eric's sighs of sheer ecstasy had Michael following suit, releasing his seed inside Eric as he too called out Eric's name repeatedly.

Completely spent, Michael eased his now flaccid penis out of Eric and laid down on top of his lover, snuggling down into the man's chest. "That was… that was something else." He told him breathlessly.

"Mhm." Eric agreed sleepily, lazily draping an arm around Michael, allowing him to further sink into his embrace. "'s amazing."

"You sleepy now?"

"Mhm… love you Mikey."

Michael beamed, kissing him tenderly. "Love you too."


Six months later

The six Pythons were crowded round a television set, watching the final cut of Holy Grail. Eric and Michael were cuddled up beside each other, Eric leaning heavily into Michael, resting his head on his shoulder. He had almost completely recovered from his bout of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder; he was able to resume filming, (in very short stints – requiring naps on set), a week after Michael and Eric began their romance. He still suffered from the occasional night terror – Michael wasn't sure if they'd ever go away completely – and as a consequence hated to be alone when going to sleep. He still fatigued very easily, and Gray had told them that it would take some time before Eric didn't feel continually tired.

That said, the change in Eric from six months prior to today was quite remarkable. He was more and more like the cheeky, loveable, extroverted Eric they all knew and loved with each passing day – which was something they were all very happy to see. Eric, (and the others), put a lot of his recovery down to his relationship with Michael, and the man himself – after all Mike was the one who had spent so much time caring for him in those bleak, miserable two weeks. It was all Eric could do to show Michael (or Mikey as he lovingly referred to him by nowadays), how much he appreciated all the younger man had done for him. Mike was Eric's rock, and vice versa.

The other Pythons had found out about their relationship virtually as soon as it had started. This wasn't surprising given the circumstances. Graham had been so excited, and naturally thrilled for the pair (and loved the fact this meant half the Pythons were gay), the two Terrys were somewhat surprised but nevertheless happy for them, and John probably took the news the hardest – indifferent but not upset by their relationship.

"Well I think it's turned out pretty well." John remarked as the credits rolled.

The others nodded their heads in agreement. "Yes, I think it has." Michael replied, kissing a half-asleep Eric on the top of his head.

"Look at him – couldn't even stay awake for ninety minutes." Gil joked, chuckling.

"Hey, I'm awake." Eric griped childishly, his hands leaving their spot in Michael's lap, going up in protest – resulting in laughter from the other five.

"Well I am – I can't help that he's so deliciously warm." He grumbled.

Michael again kissed the top of his golden blonde tresses, "Of course you are darling." He cooed soothingly.

"Let's go out and get a bite to eat to celebrate." Terry suggested.

"Good idea." Graham replied, and they all got up and left the room.

The last two to leave were the lovers. "You sure you want to go love?" Michael questioned, "We can always just head for home if you're too tired."

Eric shook his head firmly, allowing Mike to help him up. "I'm fine Mikey, and besides, I'm starving."

Michael laughed, before they shared a deep kiss. "Well let's go."

The end.

Thank you so much to everyone for all your encouragement, support and amazing loyalty throughout this wonderful little journey. I hope you enjoyed it, and please let me know your thoughts. :)