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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.
Title: Elusive Ragings
Warnings: Language, sexuality, I also got kinda caught up in the whirlwind of emotions so there’s a fair amount of angst too. Be aware that this is Real Life Mike and Peter not the characters.
Disclaimer: I don’t own The Monkees and make no claim that this ever really happened. It is purely the result of an overactive imagination.
Summary: Mike’s temper is really beginning to affect the band, but what is really causing these rages?
Author’s Note: This is my first fanfic, slash and smut all rolled into one so I’m a little nervous to say the least! I got the idea from a quote I read from Peter about them rehearsing ‘You Just May Be the One’ for Headquarters: “It has two bars of five [time] in the middle of it, which Mike didn’t know he’d written. I mean, I told him that and he just didn’t take it in because he never listened to me. Somebody else told him and he came at me yelling ‘Look what I did!’. It was a good Mike song.” It’s pretty long, nearly 5,500 words. Feedback is greatly appreciated, it’s the only way I will get better :)
“That’s not bad, guys. Hey, why don’t ya take a break, we’ve been at this for a while now.”
Chip’s suggestion was a welcome relief to the four musicians in the studio. They had been trying to do Michael’s song ‘You Just May Be the One’ for their new album but Mike’s heart just didn’t seem to be in it today, he seemed agitated. More so than usual, that is. Everyone had picked up on it, no-one dared mention it. It was usually best to stay out of his way when he was like this…but some people never learn.
“Hey, Mike? There somethin’ wrong?” Peter asked.
“No.” Mike stated, flatly.
After a pause, Peter continued. “Know what I noticed? When I was practicing last night, I realised you’d written in two bars of five in the middle there-“
“Great.” Mike responded, blatantly not listening but this didn’t deter him.
“Yeah, I thought that was pretty neat, cos it’s like…it turns it more into…uh…” Peter lost his train of thought as he watched Mike push past him and briskly walk out of the studio door.
Everyone stood dumbfounded at Mike’s attitude. Both Davy and Micky looked over at Peter who tried desperately to not look as humiliated and crushed as he felt. He sensed their gazes on him and quickly flashed one of those smiles, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes as it usually did.
“Ignore him, Petah. He’s just got a stick up his arse is all.” Peter chuckled half-heartedly at Davy’s comment. Micky quickly chimed in too.
“I think he’s having a rough time at home, Pete. I wouldn’t take it personally, man.”
“Thanks, guys. I’m fine, really. I just thought he’d be interested is all. I’m not sure he realises he-“ Peter is cut of as Mike re-enters the room bursting with renewed energy.
“Chip and I were just listening over what we got so far and we both just noticed this groovy bit…” He demonstrates the part he means on his Gretsch; the two bars of five. Peter visibly twitched in suppressed anger. It’s then that Micky noticed something. Out of the corner of his eye, Mike was watching Peter intently, gauging him for a reaction and smirking slightly at that twitch. Micky frowned to himself. He knew Mike could be a bastard at times but he wasn’t usually vindictive.
“Mick, you still with us?” Micky was brought out of his thoughts as Davy stared back at him.
“I said, are you ready for round two?” Micky was suddenly aware that all eyes were on him, waiting on him so they could lay down the track.
“Oh. Oh! Sure, yeah. Roll ‘em!” He chuckled nervously.
The rest of the session did not go well. Micky was now the distracted one as he kept looking between Mike and Peter, but there were no other glances…could he have imagined it? Peter seemed to be concentrating a little too intently on his bass, trying desperately to avoid making eye contact with Mike. He wasn’t sure whether he would lunge at him in a fit of rage or collapse in a heap on the floor in tears. Either was a distinct possibility at this moment and neither was an option. After several incomplete takes, Chip suggested calling it a night and they all concur.
Mike was the first one out the door but Micky was quick to follow, almost falling over his drums in his eagerness.
“Hey, Mike, hold up a sec!”
“Really not in the mood, Mick.”
“It’s Peter.” This made Mike stop in his tracks but he instantly cursed himself for showing any interest. He continued his pace, hoping it hadn’t been obvious.
“What about ‘im?” Micky had finally caught up but had to semi-jog to maintain the pace.
“I think ya kinda upset him, what ya did back there…” Mike scoffed lightly.
“He’s a big boy.”
“Well sure, but it was still a shitty thing to do, Mike.” The cursing caught Mike’s attention and he looked at Micky, seeing how serious he was. He sighed, slightly.
“Forget about it, Micky.” He started to walk even quicker, just wanting to escape the impending inquisition, hands thrust in his pockets.
“But why did ya do it? What’s he done-“
“I said forget it.” His voice had gotten lower, quieter but became much more menacing.
“I’m sure if you would just talk to him-“ Micky realised his mistake as soon as he’d done it. He’d grabbed Mike by the arm, forcing him to stop. Mike spun round, eyes blazing.
“FORGET IT, MICKY! I don’t want to talk to him or you or ANYONE! …you wouldn’t understand…” And with that, he stormed out into the night, leaving Micky standing alone in the corridor.
It wasn’t the outburst that had shocked him, nothing unusual about that. It was that last part: “You wouldn’t understand.” Micky suspected that he wasn’t supposed to catch it as Mike had drastically lowered his voice and turned away as he said it. Micky was also a little hurt, Mike had always been pretty open with him. Why was he so determined to hide this from him, what ever ‘this’ was? Or, maybe, he subconsciously did want Micky to overhear him so he could work it out without being told. Yes, that sounded much more appealing. It was time for Micky to do some sleuthing…
If it was at all possible, the second session was worse than the first. Micky, Davy and Peter were in the recording room already, waiting on an absent Mike. Peter felt a pang of guilt, thinking he’d upset him. Micky knew better. He knew something was really preying on his mind and it was beginning to affect his work. Davy couldn’t care less, he just wanted to get the work done so he could relax for the rest of the day.
But when Mike finally did show up, almost 50 minutes late, even Davy began to worry. Mike looked like hell. His hair was all matted, he hadn’t shaved and his eyes were bloodshot. He dispensed with any pleasantries, moving straight to the guitar. Peter approached him, full of concern but Micky quickly motioned for him to back down which he reluctantly did. Oh great, thought Peter, Micky thinks I did something wrong too. I knew it. Actually, it wasn’t that at all. It would have passed unnoticed to anyone that wasn’t looking for it but Detective Dolenz had made it his mission to keep a close eye on Michael. At Peter’s slight movement towards him, he’d immediately tensed up. Interesting...but that just raised more questions than it answered.
Unusually, very little chat occurred over the next couple of hours. Occasionally there would be the odd comments passed between band and producer but their usual playful banter was gone. Even Chip noticed that something was up but didn’t want to tread on any toes. Michael was usually very vocal when it came to sessions of his songs but today, nothing. He seemed intent to just immerse himself in the music and whatever problem plagued him.
“That’s great, fella’s. I think the next take’s gonna be the master.”
“Yeah, think I’m getting the hang of the beat now.” Micky did a quick riff on the drums, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Sounds good, Mick.” Everyone’s head snapped in the direction of the voice. He sounded as bad as he looked but at least they were now aware Mike was apparently with them.
“Yeah, Micky,” said Davy, quickly, hoping to maintain the conversation. “Your drumming’s really comin’ along, man.” They all laughed as Micky had a mild freak out on the drums.
“I think we all sound real tight, I mean, we’ve played the song so many times.” Micky and Davy both nod in agreement to Peter’s comment but it does not get the same reaction from Mike.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What?” Asked Peter, confused and slightly wary.
“ ‘We’ve played this song so many times’? You tired of this song or something?”
“Mike, I don’t think that’s what-“ Micky tries to interject, seeing where this is heading.
“No! Mike, that’s not what I meant. I just meant that- I mean- we’ve been playing the song in the tour and nail it every time. It’s no surprise that-“
“Cos, you know, maybe you could try and write something yourself. Maybe contribute something to the band once in awhile instead of making me do all the work while you’re off gettin’ high all the time!”
The room suddenly erupted with everyone yelling at the same time. From the booth, Chip tried to calm them down but his projected voice was smothered by the din in the recording room.
Davy started hurling abuse at Mike, Peter tried to settle him down but was thrown back. Micky just watched in horror at the band quickly unravelling.
“I can’t fuckin’ work like this, I’m outta here.” And with that, Mike left the room.
“Fine! Like we can’t carry on without you!” Davy knew it was a stupid comment because they couldn’t but he didn’t want Mike to have the last word. Peter still looked shell-shocked, staring at his bass. As Davy went to lean over and say something to him, Peter shrugged away and left the room too, heading in the opposite direction to Mike.
“I’m goin’ after Mike, see if I can’t sort this out. You go find Pete, he could probably do with a friendly face right about now.” Davy nodded and they both headed out in the relevant directions.
Micky found Mike sat in an unused recording room, crouched on a step with his head in his hands, fingers entwined in his thick, ebony hair. He didn’t hear Micky come in, only acknowledging him when he sat down next to him.
There was a moment of silence between them before the curly-haired man spoke.
“You go home last night?”
Mike didn’t look up but shook his head, No.
“Where’d you stay?”
“What’s going on between you and Phyllis, man? Make ya feel better to talk about it.”
Mike scoffed. “There’s nothing wrong with me and Phyllis.”
Micky nodded, not believing him for a second. “Expect me to believe that? You look like shit Mike. Looks like you haven’t slept in days, you’re livin’ in your car, you ain’t playin’ right and you’re taking it out on everyone else! In fact, not even everyone else, just Peter! ...just Peter...”
Micky thought to himself for a moment, the last part said more as a thought. Why was it always, Peter? He looked back at Mike who had tensed up again at the mention of the name. Could it be...
“Oh my god...he’s having an affair with Phyllis, isn’t he?” Mike suddenly looked at Micky for the first time, eyes wide in shock.
“God, no! Micky, that’s not it at all-“ Micky stood up and began pacing, piecing everything together.
“Yes it is, it has to be! You can’t stand being around him anymore, you’re afraid to go home in case you see something you don’t wanna, you don’t want to go to sleep because you can’t get the image of Peter outta your mind doin’ god knows what-“
Well, a tiny part of that was right, thought Mike, ironically. He suddenly realised that Micky was still ‘piecing’ things together and shot up to stand in front of him and hold him still.
“Peter is NOT having an affair with my wife. I promise you.” Micky could see that Mike meant what he said, but this just frustrated him even more.
“Then what the hell IS it?! I don’t get it! Why’s Peter got you so riled up?”
“Cos I love him!” Mike blurted out. He hadn’t meant to put it quite so bluntly but Micky’s questions were beginning to make his head hurt. Micky was speechless. For the first time in a long while, he was lost for a response. All he could do was repeat it.
“You love him?”
“Or- I dunno! Somethin’...Shit.” He sat back down on the step, maintaining the exact same position he started in. After a few moments, Micky joined him again. He waited a while longer until his thoughts were in some sort of order but his response still left much to be desired.
“I don’t get it.”
“You and me both.”
“You love him?” Mike gave a frustrated sigh, not at Micky, more at himself for saying it when he hadn’t given it enough thought.
“I love Phyllis. I really do. It’s just...music is my life. It’s everything to me, always has been. And Peter is the only one that seems to really get that. I can be playin’ a vague tune and he’ll add a bass line to it that just brings it to life. It’s like he knows what I’m going for, even before I do! Just like that two bars of five-”
“I thought you discovered that.” Micky said, harshly.
“You know I damn well didn’t. He was the only one, man. The only one to pick up on it. Chip didn’t notice either, I just made that up.” He swallowed hard. “I’ve never felt so connected to anyone before...and it scares me.”
Micky, despite himself, felt a jolt of jealousy at that moment. To see what affect Peter had on this usually controlled and level-headed Texan was quite remarkable but Micky continued.
“But then- why the hell do you keep yelling at the guy!?”
Mike looks up at Micky again, an incredulous look on his face. “You’re kidding, right? I can’t love Peter. It’s insane. It’s not gonna happen. He’d think I was a freak.” Micky thought that that was highly unlikely, Peter was never one to judge someone on something as trivial as sexuality but he let Mike continue. “I just figured, maybe if I kept snappin’ at the guy, he’d back off, keep his distance so I could think straight, focus on the music. Or maybe I thought if I yelled at him enough, I’d convince myself I actually hated him...I don’t know.”
Micky sympathised with his plight, although he didn’t necessarily understand it. “Why have you been sleeping in your car?” He suddenly thought.
“I’ve been told that I can be kinda...vocal. In my sleep. If Phyllis caught on, with the kinda dreams I been havin’ lately...” Mike looked at Micky who failed miserably to hide his look of horror. “Sorry, didn’t mean to freak ya out.”
“Nah, it’s-it’s OK. I’m hip an all but ya know, could spare me the details.” They both laughed lightly.
“Mike?” Mike looked at Micky, carefully. “I think your plan is working. But what would seriously happen if Peter hated you? How would you feel about that?”
Mike stared at the floor, really considering the question for the first time. He looked back at Micky, with realisation. “It would break my heart.”
As Mike’s voice cracked a little, Micky realised that this was serious stuff. I All thoughts of jealousy went out of his head at that moment as he realised that his friend had a problem and he had to help him with it.
“You need to talk to him, Mike. Tell him. This is some serious shit, I’ve never seen you so worked up about someone before. It’s Peter, man! He’ll be cool.”
“I can’t! This can never leave this room. I’ll be fine, I’ll just-try summin else is all.”
Micky sighed, Mike really could be a stubborn son of a bitch. He shrugged, getting up to leave. Before he walked out the door, he turned back to his friend and smiled.
“Hey, Mike?” The Texan looked up wearily. “Thanks for talking to me about this. Means a lot.”
“Didn’t give me much choice, didja? You’re worse than the Spanish Inquisition.” Micky laughed a good, pure laugh this time.
“Vee vill know you’re secrets Herr Nesmith!”
“That’s German, Mick.”
“Meh, whatever. Should I tell the other guys you’re coming back to finish the track or no?”
“Sure. Just give me five minutes.” Micky turned on his heel and bounced down the corridor. On the way he, walked into Peter.
“Oh, hey! Davy was lookin’ for ya.”
“Yeah, he found me. I know he was trying to help an all, but it wasn’t really working. What were you laughing at?”
“Me? Oh nothing, just uh...” The cogs started turning. He looked back from where he’d come from and then to Peter who was watching him intently. “Y’know, Pete. I was just talkin’ to Mike. He feels just awful about what happened, he said if I see you to send you his way.”
“Oh, yeah? Really?” Peter was surprised, to say the least. Mike never usually apologised to anyone, it was just something you had to accept.
“Yeah, he’s in the studio to the right. Tell him, hi!” Micky finished, with a wicked smile. He shuffled past Peter, crossing his fingers tightly. Please let this work, please let this work...
Peter watched Micky go, wondering what the hell all that was about. He headed towards the room to see Mike sat on the step, head still in his hands. He politely knocked on the door.
“What now, Mic-“ He stopped dead as he looked up to see Peter standing there, framed by the doorway. His stomach knotted, uncontrollably. He’s so beautiful, he thought before quickly berating himself. Peter picked up on the frown and strolled over to him.
“Micky said you wanted to see me.”
“Oh did he now?” he said, under his breath.
“Look. I didn’t mean anything by what I said back there. You seem to have been reading a little too into things lately.”
“Really? What makes you think you know anything about me?” Oh my god, what the hell am I doing!? I don’t want to do this... Peter looked exasperated.
“Jesus, Mike! What is with you?! Why can’t I do right by you? We used to have a good thing going, what happened?”
I fell for you, Pete. “Nothing happened, I just put up with you before is all.” He stood up to turn his back on the blond-haired man who watched him, disbelieving.
“No. That’s not true, why are you saying this?” Peter’s voice had gotten very quiet.
I don’t know, I can’t stop... “We have nothing in common. You’re just not that great a musician-“ WHAT!?! Mike had been doing this for so long, he couldn’t stop himself. His mouth was now working without his permission. “Maybe it would be best if you just left the group and go back to the Village with your hippy freak friends-“
BAM! The punch caught both of them totally off-guard. Peter was not a violent person but Mike’s words had proved too much for him. He wasn’t sure whether he hit him out of anger or just to stop him from saying anything else. Mike stumbled backwards slightly, holding his jaw, looking into those wide eyes. That’s when he saw it. The thing he thought he’d wanted to see. The hate behind those hazel eyes shot through him like a lightning bolt. And just as he expected, it broke his heart.
Peter flew out of the room, hiding unshed tears of anger and pain. As he powered down the corridor he heard a ruckus from the room but it was the sound after that made him freeze in his tracks.
No others followed but he knew he’d heard it. His anger was instantly replaced with curious concern as was his nature. He slowly walked back to the room to find it empty and wrecked. The instruments that had housed it were littering the floor. The drum kit lay strewn in every corner, one part prevented him from entering. He couldn’t see Mike anywhere. Suddenly, he heard a loud sniff from the mixing room and headed in that direction.
There were no lights on but Peter could see Mike slouched over in the chair, arms folded across his chest. Tears fell silently down his face, it was only because of his shoulders shaking that Peter even realised he was crying. He stood in the doorway, completely bewildered at what was happening. This was Mike. Their rock. He’d never seen him like this before and didn’t know what to do.
Slowly, he approached him, kneeling on the floor at the base of his feet. Mike didn’t move but was now aware of his presence. Peter could see that Mike’s eyes were scrunched tightly together, trying to stop the fresh flow of tears his arrival had brought on. He suddenly sniffed again, loudly, making Peter jump.
“Mike...it’s okay. Please let me help you. What do you need?” Mike finally looked at Peter, his eyes red and sore. Looking deep into those brown eyes, Peter could see so much pain and confusion. It made his stomach turn seeing him like this.
“...you...” Mike whispered, almost inaudible.
“Yes, what do you need me to do?” Peter asked, pressing Mike for an answer. Mike frowned, finding it hard to find the words. This really wasn’t his forte.
“No, Pete. I need you. You’re all I can think about, I don’t know why. I can’t keep goin’ like this, I’m fucking everything up, I know it. I didn’t mean any of these things I been sayin’ to ya. I think you’re a great musician, amazing in fact. I just- I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, it’s wearin’ me down...” Peter stared at the man, mouth slightly agape. Wait, so...what is he saying, exactly?
“I don’t expect you to understand. I didn’t want it to get this far.” Mike looked at Peter again and saw how intensely he was staring at him. He was just waiting for another punch but it never came. Peter was trying to see if this was a cruel joke but Mike seemed painfully serious. Mike couldn’t help but look at that mouth. That mouth that so often had broken into a smile that made him weak at the knees. Those lips that he’d dreamt of exploring his naked body. Those lips that tormented him, night and day.
The brief glimpse had not gone unnoticed by Peter and it made his heart beat out of his chest. At that moment, Peter realised something. I would do anything for this man. And right now, he realised he needed someone to let him know everything was OK.
Before Mike knew what was happening, Peter had raised his hand to Mike’s face, lifting his chin up so he could see his face clearly behind the unruly hair. Mike frowned at him, confused but didn’t have time to question it as he felt Peter’s lips gently brush against his.
Even though it was the lightest of touches, it felt like an explosion. Mike’s mind totally shut down while Peter’s went into overdrive. Should I be doing this? Am I taking advantage of him? Is this what he wanted? He’s not kissing back...
As he pulled away, Mike stared at him, totally surprised. Peter gave a shy smile and that was it. Mike was on him like a shot. Their lips crashed together, forbidden passion finally finding a release. Mike’s hands tangled themselves in Peter’s hair as he lifted him up until they were both standing.
Considering neither man had ever done anything like this before, they knew each other well enough to know what to do. Peter let Mike take charge but was not prepared to remain completely passive.
Unexpectedly, Mike was more anxious than he let on. This was all he had wanted but now he had it, he didn’t know what to do. Peter sensed this and softly brushed his tongue over Mike’s lower lip. This made him take a sharp intake of breath, allowing Peter entrance into his warm mouth. Mike made a humming sound at the back of his throat which encouraged Peter to explore further. His tongue danced over the contours of his mouth and Mike began to find the use of his own tongue and they furiously twined together, playfully fighting for dominance.
Peter moaned into his mouth, spurring Mike on further. Taking control once again, he pushed Peter against the wall, slightly taken aback by his own strength. Peter picked up on his hesitancy, responding with another smile, broader this time. He grabbed Mike and pulled him against him, moaning louder as he felt Mike’s arousal.
Their lips met again, deep, passionate kisses. Mike slid his hand up Peter’s t-shirt and the feel of his warm skin sent his mind reeling. Every part of skin he touched seemed to burn and tingle making Peter sigh in bliss. Mike smiled, pulling the shirt off in one swift movement. He could finally admire that gorgeous body. It wasn’t always obvious but Peter was in very good shape.
Mike started planting kisses down his neck, gently sucking at certain points, making Peter squirm in delight. As Mike reached his nipples, Peter’s cock stirred. He started to lose control, grabbing Mike’s ass and thrusting him forward so their erections rubbed together. They both groaned at the contact.
Mike moved back up again to Peter’s mouth and kissed him intensely as his fingers made swift work of Peter’s pants. He slowly released the zipper and slid his hand inside. He was amazed at how big he was, a rush of dirty thoughts running through his head. No, save that for later. He thought, but then his mind began to wander. But will there be a later? What am I doing? I shouldn’t be leading him on like this... He was snapped out of his thoughts by Peter’s whimpers as he grasped Mike’s hand and tried to make him pick up the pace on his throbbing cock. This was no time to analyse.
Mike did indeed pick up the pace and began stroking and jerking his cock with renewed vigour. Peter removed his hand, placing one around Mike’s neck and the other firmly on his chest. He threw his head back as Mike’s thumb spread the pre-cum over the head. “Unhh, Michael, that’s it...” Mike’s eyes flashed, it was the first time Peter had said something since they’d started and it had been his name. This encouraged him further and he built up speed, his own cock pressing uncomfortably against his pants.
Peter started to unravel fast. He pulled Mike towards him, pressing his lips to his frantically as he began thrusting uncontrollably into Mike’s hand. In his lust-glazed state, Peter noticed that Mike was still fully clothed, that would not do. He started to rapidly unbutton his shirt but lost patience halfway down and just ripped the others off, discarding the shirt. Mike got even more turned on by Peter’s aggressive attitude that he stroked faster still as Peter began licking long lines down his chest.
“Ahh, ohgod, Mike...I’m gonna...nuhhh...” Mike knew what was about to happen but still wasn’t prepared for such a violent orgasm. Peter thrust wildly into his hand, holding onto Mike’s shoulders as if his life depended on it. As Mike milked him of his release, Peter sobbed into Mike’s shoulder. The cum leaked into Mike’s hand and over his trousers but he didn’t care. They both panted heavily, neither able to speak straight away.
“That- that was incredible.” Peter whispered between breaths. He let go of Mike, not aware that his legs would not support his weight and collapsed on the floor. Mike propped himself up with both hands on the wall, his eyes closed, still catching his breath.
Peter leaned his head back and then noticed the incredible bulge in Mike’s pants. How selfish, I didn’t even give him second thought. He noticed Mike’s closed eyes and then a wicked smile played across his lips as he smiled more intensely at the bulge.
Mike’s eyes suddenly jumped open as he felt soft lips gently kissing the inside of his thigh through the fabric of his pants. He kept his eyes closed for the moment, worrying that if he looked down and saw that face, he would come right there and then.
Peter slid his hands up the back of Mike’s long legs until they rested comfortably on his ass. Peter noticed that the top button had already come undone, he wasn’t sure if he had done this or not but mentally shrugged and moved to the zipper instead. Not wanting to move his hands just yet, he grasped the zipper in his teeth and slowly pulled it down.
It was pure agony for Mike as he felt the mouth so close and the tightness of the fabric subside. He was taking in big gulps of air, Peter started to worry that he was going to pass out. By the look of his hardness, there probably wasn’t much blood rushing through his head at the moment.
“You okay? Need me to stop?
“You fucking do and I’ll die.” Mike’s words pounded through Peter. The realisation that Mike needed him so badly was invigorating, he wanted to play on it but knew this wasn’t the time. Next time. He thought. If there is a next time...What about Phyllis? What are we really doing here?
“Peter, please...I’m begging you...” Mike managed to choke out, jolting Peter out of his inappropriate thoughts. Peter wasted no more time. Here and now is all that matters. He pulled Mike’s trousers and underwear down together, finally freeing Mike fully from the confines of the fabric. But before he had time to relish the feeling, Peter’s mouth enveloped him, sending a shudder through his entire body.
He’d never felt anything quite like it. He’d gotten head before but this was phenomenal. Peter knew exactly what would make his head spin. He licked a long line up the shaft, stopping at the head to flick his tongue over it.
“Shit...Peter...!” Just as it had with Mike, the mention of Peter’s name just spurred him on more. He removed a hand from Mike’s backside to give some attention to Mike’s balls. Mike knew then that that was the beginning of the end. A hand left the wall and entangled itself in the luscious blond hair. Peter pulled away to watch Mike as he began to lose control, it didn’t happen often. Mike opened his eyes again to see why he’d stopped. Their eyes locked for a moment as Peter spoke.
“Come for me, Michael. Let go.” And before Mike could respond, Peter took all of him into his mouth, right down to the root.
“AHHH, FUCK! PETER!” He exclaimed, his vision suddenly just a mass of white. He thrust into that hot mouth, hoping in the back his mind that he wasn’t hurting him. Every muscle tensed with the ferocity of the climax. Peter felt the load shoot down his throat, making him gag but he covered it well and swallowed every last bit.
He continued to lick and gently suck as Mike went limp but he was quickly brushed away.
“No, stop. I can’t-“ It was all too much, he was spent. Peter happily obliged, relaxing again on the floor, legs spread out in front of him. Mike turned to face the room and slid down the wall so he was sat in the same position, next to Peter.
They looked at each other for a long moment. Neither knowing where they stood.
“I enjoyed that.” Peter stated, matter of factly, staring out across the room.
“I’d like to do it again sometime.”
Mike looked directly at Peter this time who returned the gaze. His face was still flushed from their activities which made him look even more beautiful than Mike remembered.
“Me too.” And he cupped a hand around Peter’s neck and drew him in for a long, meaningful kiss. Peter knew everything he needed to know in that kiss. There will be a next time.