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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.
Warnings: Smut, language.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Monkees and make no aspersions toward their sexualities.
Summary: Micky has a question. Mike has an answer. And Peter has a good view.
Author's Note: I've got plans for about four more stories in this little saga, so we'll see how it goes...
Mike heaved a sigh when he heard the Monkeemobile's engine roar and then fade. Boy, they were gonna have to tell Davy about this soon. It was all well and good to keep secrets when it was just sex, but they had involved that L word now. And Davy was a smart kid. It wouldn't take him long to sense the tension that permeated the room when he was in it.
Plus, not that he'd ever admit it, but it was hell not being able to just kiss Micky or Peter whenever he wanted to.
Speak of the devil...s, Mike thought when he noticed the aforementioned men descending the staircase. He smiled in greeting, but it disappeared once he noticed the shifty looks on the faces of both men.
"Hey, hey Mike?"
Mike's eyes narrowed when Peter glanced behind him and Micky gave him an encouraging nod. Of course, Micky was up to something. What a surprise.
"Yeah, shotgun?" He made sure to inject a hint of warning into his voice. No need for Peter to do Micky's dirty work.
Peter, as expected, cringed backward, but a firm look from Micky sent him leaning forward again. Mike rolled his eyes.
"I, uh, I was wondering, um."
Mike had no idea how Peter could be so confident in the bedroom and so... not when faced with anything else.
"What, Peter? Whatever Micky wants you to ask," he aimed a glare at Micky, who had the presence of mind to at least look vaguely ashamed. "I'm sure it's not that bad."
"Whydoyouneverbottom?" Peter asked in a rush, letting out all of his breath once the sentence was out of his mouth. He quickly danced a few steps back as though he were afraid Mike would take a swing at him. He bumped into Micky, and they both nearly went tumbling over.
Micky steadied Peter, eyes trained eagerly on Mike in anticipation of his response.
Mike simply cocked his head to the side. "What?"
It was Micky's turn to roll his eyes. "For God's - Why don't you bottom? Ever? I've done Peter and Peter's done me and you've done both of us, but neither of us has done you. Why?" He asked all of this with barely a pause for breath, but Mike managed to catch it all.
He breathed in, then let it out. He'd been expecting this. He patted the seats next to him in an unspoken invitation and Micky and Peter sat on either side of him.
He leaned back into the cushions thoughtfully, fully aware that two sets of eyes were trained on him.
"I s'pose," he finally drawled slowly, just before Micky strangled him. "'Cause you never asked."
Micky's mouth hung open in indignant shock.
"You mean to tell me," he said quietly, an air of menace hanging around him. "That all I had to say was 'Hey, Mike, can I fuck you?' and you'd have said 'Sure, Mick, where's the lube'?!" His voice rose steadily throughout the sentence until it was a shout.
Mike's expression changed subtly into one of amusement. "Uh-huh."
"You mean I've been tormenting myself over this for nothing?"
"Yep." Mike sighed, refraining from rolling his eyes only because there had been entirely too much of that since this relationship started and he was beginning to feel like a teenage girl. "Micky, I love you. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you."
"Son of a bitch!" Was Micky's response to this declaration of love. He paused, thinking over the previous conversation. He visibly brightened. "Hey, Mike..." He trailed off.
Mike shared an amused look with Peter. "Yeah, Mick?"
Micky leaned close, smiling his best 'look-at-how-pretty-I-am' smile. "... Can I fuck you?"
Mike turned, whispering something in Peter's ear. Peter nodded, slipping off of the couch so that Mike could slide over into his spot and face Micky. He let his legs fall open and smiled at Micky's quick glance down at the bulge straining the front of his pants.
"Sure, Mick. Where's the lube?"
Micky ignored the question and dove, capturing Mike's lips in a fierce kiss. He ground his hips down until he heard Mike groan and then slipping his tongue into his willing mouth.
Mike arched into Micky, reaching around him to grab his ass and press them closer together.
Micky began undoing buttons without pulling away, and Mike reciprocated by undoing the button of his pants and sliding his zipper down.
Micky finally broke the kiss, tugging Mike forward so that he could get his shirt fully off. Mike shoved his head down and Micky squawked before Mike fisted a hand in the fabric at his lower back and yanked it over his head. Well, it was an efficient, if not comfortable way of removing clothing...
Micky stopped thinking when Mike reached a hand into his pants, curling it loosely around his erection. Micky quickly shoved his trousers down and off, doing the same to Mike's and leaning in to crush their lips together again. Their mouths slid together with utmost urgency.
Micky broke away breathlessly when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Peter dangling lube in front of his face. He grabbed it, turning to Mike, then back to Peter.
"Oh... you... Peter, I..." Micky bit his lip. He had been so excited that he had forgotten Peter was even in the room.
Peter laughed quietly, somehow deeper and more raspy then his normal laugh, and the inherent dirtiness of it made Micky shiver. Peter leaned back against the chair Micky guessed he had been watching from, and wasn't that a nice thought?
"Oh, I'm good, Mick. I'm real good." For the first time Micky noticed that Peter's own pants were undone and sweet gentle Peter was jacking off to him and Mike. Micky didn't think he'd ever been more turned on in his life. He returned his gaze to Peter's face, and that dimpled smile was very far from sweet and innocent. Micky had to turn away. He was getting perilously close to coming from a smile, and that wouldn't do at all.
He uncapped the tube of lubricant in his hand, squirting some onto his fingers. He slid one into Mike, reveling in the fact that he was about to fuck Mike..
Mike inhaled sharply. It had been a long time... He moaned, though, when Micky added a second finger, angling them to nudge at his prostate.
Micky removed his fingers and positioned himself at Mike's entrance. "Okay?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah," Mike panted. "Just..."
Micky nodded quickly, understanding the implied request to go slowly. He moved forward, and then his dick was in Mike, holy Jesus.
Mike clenched his eyes shut as Micky moved forward. Just a bit further, just a bit... Ah! There it was! The pain almost dissipated under an intense wave of pleasure as Micky hit that spot again.
Finally, Micky was fully sheathed, and holyfuckingshit, he thought he might come right then, from the heat and the tight and the thought that he was fucking. Mike. He had to hold back from simply thrusting and humping and fucking and coming.
Mike breathed out shakily, nodding. "You can move now, Mick."
Micky forced himself to not slam in and out like a madman. "Y-You sure?"
"Yeah," Mike said in a sigh. "I'm sure."
Micky pulled back, then thrust forward again, and Mike nearly saw stars.
"Fuck," he grunted. "More."
Micky did it again, thrusting in earnest now. With Mike making those noises underneath him, with the knowledge that he was making Mike make those noises, he thought it was a good bet that he wouldn't last long.
He slammed forward, pulling Mike's face to his and thrusting his tongue into Mike's mouth in the same rhythm he was thrusting into his ass.
And then Micky knew it was over, he was gone, he was going to come so hard his brain would ooze out his dick.
He moaned into Mike's mouth, clutching at his biceps.
He moved one of his hand down to stroke Mike's cock, urging him on, come on, Mike, come, come for me-
Mike groaned his release loudly under him, spilling into his hand.
Yes, yes yes, Micky thought absently, not realizing that he was still operating under the mentality that he could only come once Mike did.
He thrust into Mike erratically, once, twice, and then he was coming as well, vision a wall of white before he collapsed onto Mike, arms unable to hold him anymore.
Mike laughed exhaustedly. "I don't think I can go again right now, babe. Maybe later."
Micky mustered up the energy to giggle quietly.
"... No, seriously, fuck."
"I'll say," came Peter's voice from the chair. Mike rolled his head lazily to the side to see that Peter was zipping up, face flushed.
"You have fun, shotgun?" He asked with a teasing glance down at Peter's crotch.
He got his own dose of the dimpled smile in return and inhaled lightly.
"What?" Was the innocent response.
"Just be careful who you smile like that at and we won't have a problem."
The smile became one of the sweet-and-innocent variety and Mike sighed in relief. Any longer and he woulda had to jump him, and he wasn't sure he could actually move, not to mention Micky was still on top of him.
Actually, he had been silent for an unusually long time. Mike tilted his head down to check on his suspicions.
Yep, he was asleep.
Mike looked up at Peter in amusement.
"Guess I tired him out."
"Mike, you tired me out."
Mike didn't look even remotely apologetic.
Peter leaned down to assist him in carrying Micky over to the bedroom. They laid him on the bed and stepped back, watching as he curled in on himself.
Peter laughed softly. "He's adorable."
Mike smiled, pulling Peter's head over to him and planting a kiss on his head before leaning over to whisper in his ear. "Yeah, well, all the same, I'm pretty sure he'd flip if he knew I let you fuck me last week, so let's not tell him that, okay?"
"Ohhh, yeah, well, I wasn't going to, no."
"Good." Mike leaned away. "Love you."
"Love you, too."
"Love you guys..." drifted over sleepily from the bed.
Mike and Peter both smothered laughter.
"Love you, Micky," Mike called.
"Mflsup," was Micky's final word on the subject.