Author's Note: I do not own the Pythons in any way. All of this is based on 100% fiction. Thank you et enjoy~
I saw 'Holy Flying Circus' a while ago and it kind of inspired this pairing within me. Don't like, don't read.

"Oh come on John..." Michael was standing outside the bathroom door trying to coax John out of his hiding place and back to the meeting.

"I'm not going back!" John snapped from behind the door; Michael could almost imagine him crossing his arms and scowling.

They were used to fights at the Python script meetings, although Michael had to admit this one had been a little more aggressive than usual.

Graham's alcoholic problem was worse than ever, when he was awake at the meeting he just disrupted everything or got up to pour himself another drink.

It must be tough for John Michael realised. Although John never actually complained about the things that really bothered him, Michael was sure that the long hours of trying to write sketches with Graham was getting to him.

"We can call it a rest for the day if you want John" he called, waiting for a reply, "I think Terry G has gone home already...John?"

A grunt told Michael that he was still there, but that he didn't want to talk to him at the moment.

Michael checked his watch; he really should be getting home himself.

They'd held the meeting at John's house because he was currently between marriages, so there were less distractions and noises around the flat.

"Is he coming back?"

Michael jumped, turning to see Eric standing behind him, tapping his foot impatiently and looking annoyed. "It's getting on a bit... I can take Graham back" He added the next bit gently, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"Oh take the drunken queer away!" John snapped, reminding them of his presence, and indeed his excellent hearing.

Eric raised his eyebrows, taking his coat from the peg in the hall, "come on Graham lets get you back" he shouted back into the sitting room.

A moment later, a very drunk looking Graham emerged from the sitting room, swaying slightly as he walked.

He paused by the door, leaning against it to support himself. "Sowry aboot this John" he slurred, his face showing his struggle to phrase the words, "I'll be better tommorow,"

"No you won't!"

Michael sighed, giving Eric and Graham a wave and a smile, "I'll sort him out, don't worry,"

"I won't" Eric grumbled, "sometime I think that guy needs a sharp slap!"

"and you need a good kick up the arse!"

"If you're going to talk at least come into the room," Michael turned back to the door, speaking half jokingly and half out of exasperation.

There was a pause, then a click of the lock and the door opened to reveal all 6''5 of John Cleese. For Michael standing right up close to John was always intimidating, so he took a subconscious step back.

"Right!" John clapped his hands together like nothing had happened and began to usher Michael back into the sitting room where both Terry's were still waiting, though they were beginning to glance at their watches.

"I think this is all we've got time for, we'll have to meet up tomorrow morning," Terry J stood up, shooting a quick glare at John.

"Surely we can do one more script" John argued, "it's only..." He looked up at the clock, "one in the morning..."

"No way man, I'm tired" Terry G yawned, "I want to get home while I'm still capable of driving."

Michael shrugged sideways at John, "never mind, we'll see you tomorrow, hopefully we'll get hold of Graham before he has a chance to put another bottle to his lips," he laughed lightly, following the other two into the hallway.

He'd just reached for his coat when John cleared his throat. "That Cheese Shop Sketch needs going over," he gave no explanation or dictation in the sentence, but Michael knew this translated as: "I've not finished working and I don't want to be left on my own so get back here now!"

Michael always ended up being the one stuck with John. It had used to be Graham and John working late every night, now Graham had fallen into a bottle, John seemed to have made Michael the official replacement.

Terry G threw him an apologetic look and scarpered as fast as his legs could carry him.

"Hey, hey, that's not fair" Terry J paused by the door, "Michael's not your pet,"

"Of course not Terry" John corrected himself, "he's our pet," with that he took two massive strides down the hall and patted Michael on the head, taking his arm in a vice-like grip so that there was no chance of escape.

"I'll be fine Terry" Michael smiled, "If worse comes to worse I'll sleep on the sofa or something."

Terry gave John one final fierce look then left the flat, slamming the door behind him.

Terry had never been that fond of John because of his argumentative nature, Michael could see John was irritating, but he knew he was more difficult to annoy than the others.

"Right, come along Fido," John spun on his heel and hopped back to the sitting room. Rolling his eyes, Michael followed obediently.

John was sitting on the sofa with the script in his hands, his expression had turned to the more serious one that he usually wore when looking over sketches.

Michael knelt down by the coffee table on the floor, trying to remember what he could of the sketch and trying to judge John's stoic expression. Would it get thrown on the 'out' or the 'in' pile. It was one of the few sketches they'd written together.

John had suddenly suggested out of the blue a while ago that they try trading writing partners every now and then. This had made Terry J furious because the way he saw it, John was just forcing Graham onto him.

Michael had to admit he had been terrified at the prospect of working with John; he was even more unpredictable than Graham.

John finished reading, then blinked at Michael looking confused, "why are you sitting all the way over there?" He asked, the script still in one hand.

"I..." Michael felt his face turning red as he realised he wasn't actually sure why he hadn't just sat down next to John. There was plenty of space on the sofa and it would have been easier for them to look over the sketch together when they could both see the script.

John was watching him closely, when it became clear that Michael wasn't going to move, John got up and dropped himself down next to Michael on the floor.

With a horrid lurch, Michael felt his face grow pinker and his heart rate pick up, what was going on with him.

"This one's fine," John placed the sketch on the table, reaching for another. He passed the script to Michael, "I was going to do this one with Graham but it doesn't look like they'll be any guarantee he's sober, if he doesn't turn up I thought you could do it."

Michael fought back his reddening face, and managed to control his heart beat. "Sure" he answered without thinking about it, "what's it about?"

John turned his head away, Michael thought he saw a trace of red across John's cheeks.

"You know the old drag-act, you don't mind being a woman do you?" John turned back looking normal again, the usual sarcastic glimmer in his eyes.

"I suppose not" Michael admitted; the drag-act was practically part of the contract, though Terry or Eric usually made the most convincing women though, and Graham looked good in a dress.

"We'll could just act through it and see what you think" John suggested, "don't worry I know all of my bits."

Feeling like there wasn't any harm in it, Michael began to read his lines first in a more mechanical way until he managed to get into the swing of the character. His feminine voice wasn't as good as the others, but he tried his hardest to remember how the others adjusted their tones when pretending to be women.

John flowed through his lines like a natural.

As the script progressed Michael felt his face growing warmer and his heart beat increase again.

The sketch involved him playing John's mistress who was always demanding things off him despite him having a wife and family to support at home.

The lines were funny, but the story itself seemed rather sad to Michael.

All of a sudden John grasped the side of his face with his hand. Michael's eyes widened in panic for a moment until he realised that it was only part of the script.

With John so close to him now, Michael was struggling to get his lines out. He was also sure that John was meant to be shouting his lines, but if anything the abusive language from the script was becoming softer and softer.

Even when they were sitting John was taller than him so Michael had to tilt his head to keep John in vision. John must know that he was blushing now, though perhaps he would mistake it for good acting...

"Are you hot?"

The question threw Michael off guard, his character instantly being broken. It was only now he realised exactly how close he and John were.

John's other hand was resting on his lower back, tilting his body back ever so slightly, while one of John's knees rested just between Michael's legs.

"Your face is red, I'll open a window..." John glanced up at the window, saw it was open and turned back to Michael who had pulled his face away from John's first hand and was avoiding all eye contact.

Get a hold of yourself! Michael mentally slapped himself, why hadn't he just gone with the Terrys when they left?

"Mike?" John's hand on his back didn't move, if anything it tightened.

"I-I should probably go" Michael stammered, John calling him 'Mike' hadn't helped his heart rate.

"Right..." John didn't move and neither did Michael.

The situation was making the smaller Python feel dizzy, he could feel himself shaking and exhausted tears swimming around his eyes. He was terrified.

John cleared his throat self-consciously, before reaching out his hand and touching the side of Michael's face gently, turning it back to his own.

Before Michael really had time to process, another mouth was pressed to his. With frightened trembling hands, Michael slowly reached up and fixed them around John's back pulling him closer.

He had never been this close to any other man before, he hadn't even realised that he'd wanted this. He supposed he'd always been fond of John and got on with him better than the others, but now this was actually happening he didn't want it to end.