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DISCLAIMER: This site is in no way affiliated with the Monkees or personal relations thereof. All fan fiction and fan art is intended for entertainment purposes only and no defamation of character is intended whatsoever. To break it down one more time: It's all just for fun, folks.

"Catch the Wind"

Title: Catch the Wind
Author: Lucy
Rating: G.
Pairing: Torksmith!
Genre: Slash.
Warnings: NONE. THIS IS UNAPOLOGETIC SHMOOPY FLUFF.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Monkees and make no aspersions toward their sexualities.
Summary: With the wind in Peter's hair and an expression of pure calm on his face, Mike thinks he's never seen anything so beautiful.
Author's Note: I WROTE SOMETHING! YAY! :D Note to self, iTunes is good for inspiration.


"This is nice."

Mike glances over at Peter, an eyebrow slightly cocked. "Hmm...?" he makes a vaguely questioning noise, reclining farther against a rock. He traces a small picture in the sand with his toe and trains his gaze on the sun as it lowers itself toward the mass of ocean that only ends when it touches the sky.

"This." Peter vaguely waves a hand, encompassing the entire area. "Being here. It's nice." His eyes are closed, posture relaxed. "We should do it more often."

Mike nods slowly, shivering as a breeze passes by. The setting sun is beautiful, yes, but Mike wishes it would stay, to ward off the chill that comes with its disappearance. He realizes that with his eyes closed, it's doubtful that Peter saw his nod, and clears his throat before speaking.

"Yeah... It is. Nice." He breathes in the scent of the salty sea air drifting in with the wind, glancing back over at his friend.

As though he senses Mike's gaze, Peter's eyes blink slowly open, and a smile forms on his face as he looks back at Mike. With the wind in Peter's hair and an expression of pure calm on his face, Mike thinks he's never seen anything so beautiful.

"I like you, Peter."

Immediately, Mike berates himself in his head. I like you? What, are they in high school again or something? He wonders why he didn't just pass a note to Davy to pass to Micky to pass to Peter - 'I like you, do you like me, check yes or -'

Mike's thoughts are cut off as a warm hand settles on top of his in the sand, and that smile is still there, a glorious, beaming grin. It takes Mike's breath away, and he is so distracted that he barely hears what Peter says.

"I like you, too, Mike."

Well, then.

Mike begins to hum under his breath as he realizes what song's been stuck in his head all this time, and Peter tilts his head curiously.

"... Donovan?"

Mike grins, a shy, squirmy, little boy grin as he finally understands. He turns over his hand, lacing their fingers together quietly.

"Yeah. Donovan."

Another flash of a grin.

"Let's go inside, Michael."

Mike would love nothing more.