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"All or Nothing - Part 2"

Title: All or Nothing P2
Pairing: Micky/Mike
Rating: NC-17
Author: Shawna


Micky woke the next morning to find himself still in bed with Mike. He had hesitated to open his eyes in case last night had just been a dream; but here he was, lying next to him. And not only was he with Mike, he wouldn’t have to go to Vietnam. After the last few days of feeling that his whole world was coming to an end, it seemed that everything was going to be alright after all. He smiled and looked at Mike, who was just waking up.

“How’d you sleep, babe?” Mike asked as he stretched.

“Better than I ever thought I would again,” he replied.

Mike smiled and leaned in to kiss him when they heard Peter calling them. Knowing that he had a habit of entering rooms without knocking, they exchanged a panicked look before Micky jumped out of Mike’s bed and into his own. He pulled the covers over himself and was trying to make his bed look like it had been slept in when Peter opened the door.

“Hey, guys,” he said. “It’s almost ten o’clock. You gonna stay in bed all day?” He didn’t give them a chance to answer before he closed the door and headed back downstairs.

“We’ll continue this discussion tonight,” Mike said.

“Before or after we put a lock on that door?” Micky asked.

They shared a chuckle before getting up, putting on their robes and taking their turns in the bathroom. Mike showered first, but was still in his robe when Micky came into the bedroom, roughly rubbing a towel over his wet hair. They looked at each other, both wanting to continue the exploration they had begun the night before; but knowing that as long as the others were downstairs, they’d have to wait. They settled for a moment of kissing before getting dressed.

When they came out of the bedroom, they could see Davy sitting in the armchair, circling things in the newspaper. They couldn’t see Peter, but judging by the clattering of dishes and the odd smell emanating from the kitchen, they knew that he was making one of his infamous recipes. Micky slid down the banister, drawing confused looks from the two of them, who immediately resumed what they had been doing. He gave Mike a disheartened look before settling down to his bowl of corn flakes. As soon as he was finished, he went out to the garage. Mike waited a few minutes and then followed him.

He opened the door to find Micky standing at the back of the garage, pretending to be working at something on the countertop.

“Mick?”

He didn’t respond, but Mike knew that Micky didn’t really want to be alone. He closed and locked the door and walked over to him. Micky gave him a forced smile before Mike wrapped his arms around him and kissed him.

“I can’t wait till tonight,” he said.

He began unbuckling Micky’s belt and before Micky knew it, his pants were at his ankles. Mike patted the countertop, indicating that he wanted him to sit there. He smiled nervously and obliged. Mike moved Micky’s shirttail aside to reveal his semi rigid cock. He took hold and started stroking as he kissed him again. Micky put his arms around him and returned the kiss, their tongues playing in each other’s mouths. The feel of Mike’s hand on his cock was terrific, and it didn’t take long before he was completely erect. Mike slowed his stroking and looked at Micky through half-closed eyes.

“When’s the last time you had a decent blow job?” he asked huskily.

Micky couldn’t think of anything else… of anybody else at that moment. “I… I don’t remember,” he honestly answered.

Mike smiled. “You’ll remember this.”

He knelt down and slowly licked the underside of Micky’s cock, and was pleased when he heard him give a quiet moan. He brought his tongue up to the head and swirled it around, spiraling toward the very tip. Then, his hand still firmly gripping the base, he took the head into his mouth. He flicked his tongue over it and took it slowly in and out of his mouth like he was sucking on a popsicle.

Micky’s head fell back and he placed his hands behind him to keep himself from falling over. He closed his eyes and blocked out everything but the incredible sensations he was feeling. He’d had dreams before where Mike was sucking him like this, but he never thought it would actually happen. He forced his eyes open and looked down, wanting to take in every detail of the experience. There was only a dim light coming in from the one window at the other end of the garage and his vision was unfocused; but he could see Mike’s mass of hair between his legs. He sighed and closed his eyes again.

Mike bobbed his head up and down, taking more of Micky’s cock into his mouth each time. When he felt the head touch the back of his throat, he relaxed his muscles and went down as far as he could go. Wiry hairs tickled his face and Micky started writhing underneath him. He put his hands on Micky’s hips to keep him where he was and went on with his work, slowly easing up off of his cock and then taking the whole thing into his mouth again. When he felt Micky get himself under control, Mike undid his own belt and zipper and began stroking himself.

Micky balanced himself with one hand and tangled the fingers of his other hand in Mike’s thick black hair. He could feel his balls starting to twitch and tried to keep himself from coming. He didn’t want this to end yet, but it was no use. It had been so long since he’d had anything but a self-induced orgasm that there was no way he could stop it.

Mike sucked him fast and hard now, pumping his own cock with the same rhythm. They both moaned and Mike came at the same time he tasted Micky’s juice flooding his mouth. He gave Micky a few more licks and gave himself a few more strokes, then sat back on his ankles. He waited until Micky opened his eyes before he spoke.

“How was that?” he asked as he stood up.

“Are you kidding? It was fucking incredible,” he replied, drawing a chuckle and a self-assured smile from the other man.

Micky ran his hand through his hair as he tried to fathom what had just happened. It was a little strange to think that he had been given the best blow job of his life by a man; and not by just any man, but by Mike. He watched him tuck in his shirt and straighten his clothes, amazed at how nonchalant he seemed about the whole thing. Micky slid off the countertop onto wobbly legs and started to redress himself, suddenly remembering why he had come out to the garage in the first place.

“What’s wrong?” Mike asked, noticing the change in his expression.

“I just hate how they’re afraid to talk to me,” he answered, nodding toward the house.

“Well, I was that way myself until last night.” Mike looked at his reflection in an old hub cap sitting on the shelf and casually finger-combed his hair back into place. “Things will be alright once they know you’re not going anywhere.”

“I guess. I just hope they don’t find another drummer in the meantime.”

“I doubt they will,” he said as he brushed the dust from his knees, “but if they do, we’ll just tell whoever it is that there’s been a change of plans and he won’t be needed after all.”

“What are we going to tell people, anyway?” Micky asked.

“About what?”

“About why I’m going to be rejected.”

Mike shrugged. “We’ll just say you flunked your physical.”

“Yeah, but what reason are we going to give?”

“Micky, will you please relax?” He began walking toward the door. “Man, everybody’s going to be so relieved that you don’t have to go, they won’t give a shit why you were rejected.”

“I suppose,” Micky said as he followed him. “But what about—?”

Mike turned around. “Micky.”

“Sorry.” He smiled awkwardly and walked out with him.

* * *

Mike plugged in his six-string and stood on the bandstand next to one of the amps. He was only tuning the instrument, so he didn’t turn the volume up very high, but he also didn’t want to disturb Micky, who was apparently on the phone with his mother. He tried not to listen to their conversation as he leaned in close to the amp and plucked each string several times while he turned the tuning pegs. He played a few chords to hear the overall sound and shook his head in irritation.

“Damn B,” he muttered to himself and reached up to tighten the string a little bit more. When he was finally satisfied with its pitch, he played another chord, breaking the troublesome string in the process. He swore a few more times under his breath, turned off the amp, and carefully set the guitar on its stand. He checked his wallet to make sure he had some money on him and then grabbed the car keys from the kitchen table. As he was walking out, he heard Micky hang up the phone.

“You okay, Mick?” he asked as he stood by the door.

“I just talked to my mom again,” he answered quietly.

Mike nodded. “Look, I have to go to the music shop and pick up some strings – I just broke my last B. You wanna come along?”

“Yeah.” He stuck his head into Peter’s room to tell him where they were going before walking out with Mike. He got into the car without saying anything and then sat silently staring at the passing scenery as Mike drove.

Mike glanced at him a few times, but didn’t press him. He knew what was bothering Micky without having to ask.

“She’s a wreck, Mike,” he suddenly blurted. “She’s worried sick about her only son going off to die. God, I wish I could tell her what’s going on.”

“Why don’t you?”

Micky looked at him, taken aback. “You’re not serious.”

“Yes I am,” Mike said matter-of-factly.

“Mike, there’s no way I’m telling my mom about—” He stopped himself when Mike looked at him. Micky was still a little uneasy about their new relationship, not to mention his own sexuality; and until he could sort things out, he wasn’t going to say anything to anybody. “Does your mom know about you?” he asked, trying to shift the focus of the conversation.

Mike chuckled insincerely. “Sure. She thinks that’s why I came to California.”

“Oh, yeah,” Micky said, “the land of fruits and nuts, right?”

“Exactly.” Mike drove on for a moment before speaking again. “She’s not going to disown you.”

Micky sighed. “Mike, I just can’t tell her right now. Someday, maybe, but not now.” He looked at him. “Is that okay?”

“Mick, you don’t need my permission to do anything,” he said, trying to understand Micky’s need to have everybody’s approval. “Tell who you want when you want.” They pulled up to the music shop and he parked the car. “I’m just saying it would probably make things easier if you did, that’s all.”

“Maybe,” Micky said quietly as they went into the shop.

* * *

“You know,” Peter said, “it’s just like Davy to leave for a date when it’s his turn to help with the dishes.”

Micky got up from the couch. “I’ll help, Pete,” he said, leaving Mike alone to watch Bonanza. He took his place at the sink and hoped that Peter would take this opportunity to actually talk to him. Several minutes of silent dish-washing passed before Peter finally broke the silence.

“Micky,” he said, “have you thought about going to Canada?”

Micky stopped wiping the dish he was holding and looked at him, surprised. “Canada?”

“Sure.” He glanced at Mike and kept his voice low so that he wouldn’t hear their conversation. “A lot of guys are going there.”

“Yeah, I know, but…” He sighed in frustration. He wanted to tell Peter that there wasn’t anything to worry about, but he had to play along. “I wouldn’t even know what to do; where to begin.”

“I’ve got a friend who knows a guy who helps people get there,” he said. “I can take you to see him if you want.”

“I appreciate it, Peter, really. But I don’t think I—” He stopped when Peter gave him a confused look. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Well, don’t think too long,” he said. “If you’re gonna go, the sooner you get started, the better.”

Micky nodded and went on wiping the dishes. The thought of going to Canada had crossed his mind a few days ago, but Mike had saved him from having to make that decision. Still, he would have to think of something to tell Peter to keep him off his back and to keep him from getting suspicious. He thought, too, about his family – about the pain and worry they were going through for no reason. He hated it, but he just needed to wait a little longer and everything would be alright.

They continued to do the dishes until they heard the sound of loud music from outside. Peter glanced at his watch, mumbled something to himself and went to the door.

“I’ll be right out, guys,” he called to a group of people in a van. He grabbed his coat and padded himself, making sure he had his wallet on him. “I’ll be at the protest,” he said and quickly left.

Micky looked at Mike. “What protest?”

“Who knows?” Mike replied indifferently as he got up and went to the kitchen. “All I know is we’ve got the house to ourselves.” He took the damp towel from Micky’s hands and tossed it to the sink.

Micky smiled nervously as Mike moved closer to him. Despite their earlier activity in the garage, he was still a little shy about being with a man. He didn’t resist, though, when Mike began kissing him. He closed his eyes and let himself be carried away. Strong arms held him close and strong hands ran over his body.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Mike whispered.

Micky nodded and let Mike lead him up to their bedroom, but when they got there he felt his nerves starting up again. He automatically reached for the light switch, but Mike stopped him, instead turning on a small lamp that gave off only a dim light. Micky closed the door and took a deep breath. He trusted Mike, but he wasn’t sure what was going to happen tonight or if he was ready for it.

Mike sensed his apprehension and tried to ease his mind. “Mick, I’m gonna be honest. I want to make love to you,” he said as he placed his hands lightly on Micky’s hips, “but we won’t go any faster than you’re comfortable with. Okay?”

“Mike…” He looked down and cleared his throat, as he always did when he was nervous. “I… I don’t know what to do.”

“Sure you do, Mick,” he said. “Just do what feels natural and don’t think so much about it.”

Micky hesitated for a few seconds, and then leaned in toward Mike – for the first time initiating a kiss between them. He suddenly found his hands on Mike’s ass, pulling him close to him. Their growing erections rubbed against each other, and they both let out a slight moan at the sensation. Surprising himself with his boldness, Micky eased one hand down between their crotches so that he could feel Mike’s cock. Mike moved a little, giving him room to work as Micky rubbed the palm of his hand over the front of Mike’s pants. They stopped kissing for a moment.

“See?” Mike said. “I told you you’d be alright.”

Micky nodded. “What now?”

Mike backed away a little and loosened his tie. He removed it and tossed it to the floor, then untucked and unbuttoned his shirt. He maintained eye contact with Micky, who had slowly begun unbuttoning his own shirt. Mike glanced at Micky’s crotch and could see his cock straining against the front of his pants. His pulse quickened as he imagined getting his hands on that cock again.

Micky was becoming more anxious, but tried not to let it show. All at once, he realized that it wasn’t fear he was feeling, but anticipation. He watched Mike kick off his boots and unbuckle his belt and became more and more aroused the closer Mike got to being naked. He had seen him naked before, but until now, he could never truly admire him.

When Mike was completely undressed, he turned down the covers on his bed and lay on his side, facing Micky. He felt his cock jump a little at the sight of his soon-to-be lover, who was now naked as well. Mike knew that Micky didn’t find himself particularly attractive in either face or body, and he was determined to prove to him how wrong he was. He jerked his head slightly, beckoning Micky to join him.

Micky slowly crossed the room and stood for a few seconds next to Mike’s bed before climbing in. He lay there for a moment, then reached for him, but stopped himself before he touched him. It was as if he was a virgin; knowing what he wanted to do, but unsure of exactly how to do it. He looked into Mike’s eyes, hoping that he would give him some direction.

Mike smiled slightly, then reached over and started running his hand in slow circles over Micky’s ass. He moved a little closer to him until their cocks were touching. He then ran his hand up Micky’s back and entwined his fingers in his unruly hair, holding him there as he kissed him roughly. When he knew that Micky wouldn’t pull away, he moved his hand back down the length of his body, lightly scratching him as he went.

Almost before Micky realized it, he was on his back and the weight of Mike’s upper body was on his chest. Sparse hairs tickled him and stiff nipples rubbed against his own. Soft, warm lips kissed their way down his neck to his chest, sending shivers through him from every place they touched. Micky closed his eyes and settled back comfortably on the thick pillow as he loosely placed one arm around Mike, running his hand over his back and ass. When he felt his nipples being licked and then very lightly nibbled, he moved his free hand down to stroke himself; but before he reached his cock, Mike stopped him.

“Let me take care of that, babe,” Mike said, his voice hoarse with passion. He brushed a stray strand of hair away from Micky’s face as he placed his other hand on his cock. “You just lie back and relax.”

He wrapped his long fingers around Micky’s cock began stroking him from the base just to the head and then back down again. He then took the head in the crook between his thumb and forefinger and concentrated his efforts there, lightly rubbing his thumb over the piss hole. Micky moaned loudly as he threw his head back and involuntarily raised his ass off the bed. Mike smiled slightly before lowering his head and again teasing Micky’s nipples with his tongue. He continued to work his cock, alternating between stroking him and playing with his balls, bringing him steadily to his orgasm. Before long, he felt Micky’s body stiffen under him and warm juice running over his fingers. Mike slowed his stroking and lifted his head, his mouth meeting Micky’s in a short but tender kiss.

“Why don’t you turn over and lie on your stomach,” he whispered.

Micky slowly opened his eyes and looked up at him. He took in the sight of Mike’s handsome face with its warm brown eyes and curvy lips. All he wanted at that moment was to lie there and stare at that face, but there was something about the look in Mike’s eyes that told him he should do as Mike wanted. He hesitated; not from fear, but from nervousness.

“It’ll be alright, Mick,” he said softly. “I promise I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

Micky nodded slightly and rolled over onto his stomach. He tried to make himself comfortable, wrapping his arms around the pillow and turning his head to face Mike.

“Close your eyes and relax,” Mike said as he leaned over and retrieved a small bottle of baby oil from the drawer of his bedside table. “I’m just gonna give you a little backrub.”