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"All I Want For Christmas"

Title: All I Want For Christmas
Author: Lucy
Rating: NC-17.
Pairing: Mike/Davy, hints of Mike/Micky and Micky/Davy
Genre: Slash.
Warnings: Language, sexuality, um... Does Davy smex count as a warning? I'm gonna say it does.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Monkees and make no aspersions toward their sexualities.
Summary: Davy is desperate for Mike's... "company". Micky, as always, would like to ensure the happiness of all of his bandmates during the holiday season.


"Fuck!"

Davy stormed into Micky and Mike's room with a glare and Micky looked up, rolling his eyes as he took his glasses off and set them on the nightstand next to him. This had become more and more of a daily occurrence, and Micky was getting more than sick of it.

"What's wrong, Davy?" he questioned airily, although he already knew the answer. "Can't reach the cornflakes again?"

"Fuck you!" The shorter man snarled. "You know exactly what's wrong!"

Micky sighed. "Of course I do. You want in Mike's pants but you're so short you can't even reach his belt buckle."

He was prepared when Davy threw himself at the bed and calmly dodged, rolling out of his previous comfortable position and sitting on Mike's bed.

"I hate you!"

"You think I'm adorable." Micky grinned cheekily, resting his chin in his hands with his eyes wide and innocent.

"No. Hate." Davy would refuse to admit that the expression on his face was a pout, and Micky knew that mentioning it would only get him attacked again.

He sighed. Davy had wanted Mike almost as long as Micky had. The only difference was that Micky had actually gone for what he wanted. He smiled dreamily. That had been a fun night... Mike was a great fuck.

Micky was startled out of his wonderful daydreaming by Davy's own heavy sigh.

"It's not fair, Mick... Al I want is one night. Just one night." He flopped backwards, staring up at the ceiling sulkily. "Why can't I have him?"

"Because he doesn't like whiny little brats?" Micky couldn't resist and at the moment, Davy's death glare was only a mildly debilitating narrowing of the eyes. Ineffective, of course, but Micky thought it was cute. "Look, Davy, just tell him you want him in your ass and he'd be happy to do it. It is Christmas, you know."

"Mike wouldn't do that..." Davy mumbled, flipping over to bury his face in the pillow. As a result, his next words were muffled. "He's not even queer..."

Micky choked on his own spit as he burst into uproarious laughter. His gigglefit caused him to have to fall back against the bed and curl up into a ball. He calmed down slightly only to open his eyes and be faced with Davy's indignant stare and immediately broke up again, tears nearly falling from his eyes.

"D-Davy..." Micky choked out, hands over his face. "Y-you..." He failed to speak and simply started laughing again.

"What?! Why are you laughing?" Davy narrowed his eyes at the boneless Micky.

Micky eventually calmed down enough to speak, although he very carefully did not look Davy in the eyes as he next spoke. "Davy, Mike's the queerest person I've ever met."

"What?!" Davy sat up straight and whirled to stare at Micky. "What are you talking about?"

"Y-yeah," Micky forced down his giggles. "And he's a great fuck, by the way."

"What?!" Again, Davy was shocked. "You... and, and Mike?!"

"Uh-huh." Micky grinned at Davy. "Trust me. Just ask him. Better yet, I'll ask him. It'll be my Christmas present to you."

"No!" Davy's eyes widened with fear. "Micky, please, you can't tell him!"

"Haven't you been listening to me? Do I have to resort to sign language? Here it is in simpler terms: Mike? Queer. You? Queer. Mike. You. Happening. Good?" Micky demanded to know, eyes narrowed in a glare that was even less intimidating than Davy's due to the continuous twitching of his lips.

Davy pouted. "Oh, fine. But you'd better not be lying to me."

Micky rejoiced.

-------

"Davy what?"

Micky sighed, rolling his eyes. It was later that night, and perhaps revealing Davy's crush while Mike was relaxed and almost asleep wasn't the best idea he'd ever had...

"Wants you to fuck him," he repeated dutifully.

Mike's astonished face wasn't quite as good as Davy's, no doubt because he didn't have as much practice. It was a difficult thing, surprising Michael Nesmith. Micky felt vaguely proud.

"And you want to. I can tell, Mike. You're not the master of subtlety. and from behind my drum kit, I see everything." Micky widened his eyes and stared at Mike with an all-knowing expression. "Like the way you keep staring at his ass whenever he drops his tambourine."

Mike sputtered.

"I-I do not!"

Micky rolled his eyes again. "Mike. You and Davy both seem to have this problem called not listening to Micky who knows what he's talking about thank you very much!" He nodded solemnly. "Very serious disease."

Mike ignored Micky as ideas flew through his brain. "He... He wants me?" A slow grin spread on Mike's face. "Really?"

Another roll of the eyes. "Jesus Christ, please, Mike. I just ate."

-------

Mike and Davy were sitting in the same room, one awkwardly tuning his guitar, the other fiddling with a string on his pants. Nobody spoke.

This was the scene Micky came upon when he entered from the beach and he resisted from rolling his eyes only because of his mother's warning that his face could get stuck that way.

"Are you two serious, with this?" He stormed over to Mike and smashed their lips together in a rough kiss. Mike kissed back after a mumbled exclamation, but Micky had already moved on, yanking Davy's head forward and sliding his tongue between pliant lips, which were only too eager to accept once the surprise was out of the way.

Micky pulled back and licked his lips. "There. You're queer." He turned to Mike. "And you're queer. Now, if you two aren't groping heavily by the time I get up those stairs, I'm going to spank you." He grinned salaciously. "Have fun!"

He wiggled his ass as he danced up the stairs, feeling two pairs of eyes on him.

"So... Uh, h-mmph!"

Micky heard Davy's voice cut off as he closed the door and couldn't resist pumping his fist in triumphant victory. Now, to take care of this little problem that had formed in his pants...

-------

Mike's lips were just as demanding as the man himself, Davy thought in a daze as he wrapped his arms around the strong neck and bucked upward into the hips that were pressing him into the couch.

Davy's lips were soft and responsive against Mike's, and he wanted to just rip those pants off of the smaller man and shove his cock inside him. But there was the heat of Davy's body and the slick, sly presence of a tongue along his and hands clutching his back, fingernails digging in and only spurring him on farther into Davy, loving the feel of the hard dick underneath his questing fingertips.

"Want in you," he hissed into Davy's mouth. "Wanna fuck you."

"Do it," Davy begged. "Please?"

Mike nearly tore the younger man's zipper off trying to get it down and then ferociously ripped his pants down, eying the now exposed erection with lust. He flipped Davy over, shoving two fingers inside of him.

"Ah!" Davy cried out, hips bucking backward into Mike's fingers. "More! I can take more!"

Mike slid another finger into him. "So eager for my cock, aren't you?" he crooned. "Want it bad, you little whore?"

"Yes!" Davy moaned, spreading his legs. "Want it! Want you!"

Mike let out a dry laugh, removing his fingers. He reached into the couch cushions and pulled out a small tube, removing the cap and undoing his pants simultaneously. He squeezed a small amount into his hands, rubbing it onto his cock and then leaning forward into Davy.

"You ready for it?"

"Uh-huh..." Davy moaned out. His moans stretched out and grew louder as Mike slid into him, gasping at the full feeling. "Fuck... You're... Bigger than I thought you were..."

Mike shakily grinned, face both strained with the exertion of not moving and smug at Davy's words. "You love it..." he whispered as he began to thrust into him.

"N-never... said... I didn't..." Davy's words were muffled as he had to bite the arm of the couch to prevent himself from coming too soon.

Mike's only response was a low groan as Davy's muscles clenched around him and due to his position, the only thing he could bite down on was Davy's shoulder. The younger man let out a howl of mixed pleasure and pain.

Neither man noticed the curly-topped head watching from the staircase as they slowly fell apart. Three men came at the same time, and one bit into his fist to muffle his own cry of climax. Once the tremors stopped, he wiped his other hand on his pants and stood carefully, trying to remain as quiet as possible as he returned to his room.

"Merry Christmas, guys..." Micky whispered as he closed the door. "I know I loved my gift."