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Home Slash Fiction Het/Gen Fiction Donatella's Head

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.

 

"Heat"

 

 

Title: Heat
Author: Lucy
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Mike/Peter/Micky
Genre: Slash, smutty
Warnings: Language, sexuality, threesome
Disclaimer: I don't own the Monkees and make no aspersions toward their sexualities.
Summary: Maybe if Davy knew what his three bandmates got up to when he was on a date, he'd stay home more often.
Author's Note: This is, like, my favorite thing ever. There needs to be more M/P/M, because it's spectacular and amazing and I want me some.


"I'll see you later, fellas," Davy called as he snagged his jacket from the coat rack. "Don't wait up." He smirked.

"Bye, Davy," Peter returned, curled up on the couch and appearing to be completely focused on his book.

"Use a rubber," Mike instructed sternly from his seat on the bandstand, where he had been strumming absently for the past fifteen minutes.

"See you later," Micky was the last to chime in with his farewell, using his drumstick to add a salute.

The door closed on Davy's chuckle and had the remaining Monkees been dogs, their ears would have perked up as all three listened for the rev of the Monkeemobile's engine.

With the crunch of gravel, they knew Davy had gone.

Peter's smile would have been a smirk on anyone else's face as he turned to Micky and nodded at his questioning look. He raised a finger and beckoned to the other man.

Micky grinned, hopping off of his drum stool and skipping over to the couch. He leaned down to straddle Peter's lap, simultaneously pressing an open mouth to his and running his fingers through the silky strands of Peter's hair.

Peter tilted his head to the side and kissed back, tongue slyly slipping between Micky's willing lips. One of his hands tangled in the mop of curls atop Micky's head, the other sliding down his chest and then up his shirt.

They parted, then dove in again, lips clashing and tongues dancing as they fought for dominance.

Peter sucked one last kiss from Micky's bottom lip, teeth gently pulling at it when he leaned away. He craned his head to look around Micky while the man began to place nibbling kisses down his neck.

His eyes locked with Mike's. The hatted man had set aside his guitar and was simply watching the two on the couch, his gaze filled with heat and desire. Peter raised his eyebrows and Mike released a small smile as he heaved himself upward and strode over to the pair.

Peter watched him, a naughty little smile on his face when Mike stopped next to him, crotch directly in front of his face. His tongue slid out to slick across his lower lip and he glanced up at Mike's face, which was arranged in a careful expression of neutrality. His eyes couldn't lie, however, and Peter, with a thrill of glee, noted the glint of lust in them.

Micky continued kissing Peter's neck through this silent exchange until Mike replaced Peter's hand in his hair and yanked him upward. Micky moaned as Mike crushed their lips together.

Mike pressed harder, demanding entrance into Micky's mouth. Micky, releasing small mewls of pleasure, submitted. He and Peter both knew that there was no use competing for dominance with Mike. They all knew who would win.

Peter's arousal flared as he watched the other two man kiss. He attacked the button of Micky's pants and shoved them halfway down his thighs, blessing Micky's hatred of underwear before taking his cock into his mouth.

Micky whimpered into Mike's mouth, his hips thrusting reflexively forward into Peter's mouth. He clutched at Mike to keep from falling over.

Mike pulled away, looking into Micky's eyes, clouded over with a haze of pleasure. He looked down at Peter with a raised eyebrow before tugging at the hem of Micky's shirt. He spoke the first relevant words of the evening.

"Off. Now."

Micky nodded, taking hold of the bottom of his shirt and lifting it off. He threw it over his shoulder before moving one of his hands down to the back of Peter's head, where he was still sucking and licking relentlessly.

Mike leaned down and tapped Peter on the shoulder, gently caressing the side of his face when he looked up.

"Bed?" he asked with a slight smile.

"Bed," Peter nodded, keeping a hand on Micky and slowly stroking him.

Mike turned to Micky.

"Bed?" he asked the panting man.

Micky simple nodded, unable to form words.

Mike offered a hand to Micky to assist him in scrambling off the couch. Peter swung his legs off the side and full body stretched, internally smiling as he felt two hungry gazes on him. He stood as well.

Micky huffed a few curls out of his eyes and shimmied the rest of the way out of his pants. He placed his hands on his hips mock-threateningly.

"You both better get naked right now, or I'll have to take drastic measures."

Mike shared an amused look with Peter.

"Like what?"

Mike barely saw him move, but all of a sudden, Micky was kneeling in front of him, fingers poised at his belt buckle and lips about an inch away from the bulge in his pants.

"Like maybe I'll have to get you naked." He leaned forward, eyes still locked with Mike's, and mouthed him through the rough material of his jeans.

Mike's lips twitched into a split-second smile.

"That would be drastic measures, wouldn't it," he stated. He threaded a hand in Micky's curls again and tugged upward. Micky obediently rose, rolling his eyes.

"You've got this weird fascination with my hair, man," he groused good-naturedly.

"I love your hair," Mike mumbled as he turned and began walking toward the bedroom, not bothering to make sure the others would follow. He knew they would. "I got to keep a good grip on you sometimes or you'd escape and wreak havoc."

"Hey!" Micky protested over Peter's chuckles as they both came through the doorway. "I'm not a dog!"

Mike whirled, grabbing Micky's shoulders and plopping him down on the edge of the bed.

"Sit." He noticed Micky attempting to stand back up. "Stay."

Micky pouted, crossing his arms mulishly. "Not a dog," he muttered.

"Maybe not, but you're sure gonna get it like one if you don't mind yourself," Mike assured, promise in his eyes before he returned his gaze to Peter.

"You."

Peter muffled a few quiet giggles.

"Yes, Michael?" he asked with nothing but pure innocence in his voice, but his eyes, oh, Mike could read a lot there, a lot of impure intent in those eyes of his...

He backed up until his knees hit the same bed Micky was settled on. He sat, almost primly, then tugged Micky to straddle his lap.

"Strip."

Peter bit his lip to keep a smile from escaping.

He raised his fingers to the first button of his shirt and undid it. The rest followed in slow succession as he kept his eyes down. Once he had undone all of the buttons, he untucked it and was about to slide it down and off his arms when Mike's voice stopped him.

"No. Leave it on."

Peter mentally shrugged, leaving the shirt hanging as a sort of frame on either side of his chest. He moved his fingers down to the button fastening his pants, chancing a peek at the bed under his lashes. Mike had a hand behind Micky's neck and their lips appeared to be fused together, but Mike's eyes were still open and fixed on him. He gave Peter a warning look and used his other hand to make a 'keep going' gesture.

Peter had no idea how Mike could remain so focused on him with a naked Micky squirming in his lap, but he wasn't about to complain.

He deliberately slid his hands slowly down his chest, pausing at the waistband of his pants. He deftly undid the button and began to slide his zipper down.

"Slower."

Peter glanced up and found that Mike had leaned back, resting his weight on his hands, and now Micky was on his knees in front of him. Micky had undone Mike's pants and was sucking him off. How had they had the time to change positions? He hadn't been looking away that long...

Peter shook himself out of his thoughts and reminded himself that he had gotten an order.

He slowly continued to unzip. He imagined he could hear the individual snicks of the zipper. That wouldn't have been much of a stretch, as the only sounds in the room were Mike's low, panting breaths and the slurpy-sucking noises that Micky was making on his cock.

Peter finally finished unzipping and struggled to slide his pants and underwear down. He needed to either start wearing looser pants or stop finding reasons to take them off. He made a mental note to go to the store for some new pants soon.

He finally managed to get them down and off and stood there, waiting for Mike's next instructions.

"C'mere." Mike's command came out as a moan and Peter smiled even as he obeyed. Micky definitely knew what he was doing...

Mike held out a hand, palm out when Peter reached Micky's feet, and Peter stopped. Mike pointed a finger down and Peter knelt behind Micky.

Mike nudged Micky's shoulder.

"Hey."

Micky hummed in question as he pulled his mouth off of Mike's cock. Mike ran his thumb over Micky's swollen lower lip.

"Spread."

Micky obediently lifted his hips and spread his legs, glancing over his shoulder and giving Peter a wicked smile.

"You keep going," Mike turned Micky's face back to his hardness. "You," He looked back at Peter when Micky immediately resumed his sucking. "Mmm..." His eyes closed momentarily as Micky managed to suck all of him into his mouth. "Fuck him."

Peter shoved his hips forward and slammed into Micky without question, grinning as Micky nearly choked.

"Don't warn me or anything..." Micky mumbled. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he responded to Mike before the man even had a chance to tell him to get back to work. He returned his attentions to Mike's cock, sucking it into his mouth once again as Peter began thrusting into him.

Peter set a quick pace, timing his thrusts with the bobbing of Micky's head. He shook his bangs out of his eyes, but they fell back.

Mike reached out a hand and curled it behind Peter's neck, tugging his head forward so that he could kiss him. Their tongues mingled, both listening with hunger to Micky's moans, muffled by Mike's cock but still audible.

"Mike... please... wanna..." Micky pleaded, his tone whining.

"No," Mike said languidly, pushing Micky's head back down onto his hardness. "You can come when I say you can."

Micky made a keening noise in the back of his throat, but returned to licking.

"On second thought..." Mike mused aloud.

He grabbed a handful of Micky's hair and pulled him away. Micky looked up at him in question, but Mike temporarily ignored him.

"Peter."

Peter looked up, still thrusting lazily into Micky, though his pace had slowed considerably once he realized that Mike had something in mind.

"Yeah, Mike?" He asked, a hint of rasp in his voice that made Mike shiver.

"Come up here."

Peter pulled away from Micky and stood, wincing as his knees cracked. He sidled over to the bed and sat next to Mike. Micky remained kneeling in front of the bed.

Micky watched with narrowed eyes as Mike whispered something in Peter's ear. What were they up to...?

Peter giggled quietly, then nodded once Mike finished whatever he was saying. He reclined on the bed, spreading his legs wide.

Mike moved to settle between them, discarding his pants the rest of the way with an impatient shake. He looked behind him at Micky.

"Just 'cause you've been so dang cooperative, I've got a treat for ya. Get up here."

Micky scrambled up onto the bed, settling on his knees and looking curiously at Mike.

Mike took hold of one of Micky's thighs and gently pulled it up and over Peter, so that Micky was now straddling his chest. Micky looked down at a grinning Peter, who made sure he was watching before he took a long, slow lick up the underside of Micky's erection. Micky gasped, arching. Peter made a small noise in the back of his throat, eyelids fluttering shut, and Micky assumed that Mike had just entered him. Micky tilted his head back until it rested on Mike's shoulder, and Mike began placing small kisses and nips on his neck.

Peter rested his hands on Micky's hips, sucking Micky's cock into his mouth. He flicked his tongue over the head before sliding his lips down to take in as much as he could. He wasn't as good at this as Micky was, but he knew his way around a dick. He moaned around the cock in his mouth when Mike began fucking him, hard and dirty, quick, rough thrusts that almost vibrated in his head.

Micky moaned under the combined sensations. It felt like Peter was pulling his brain out through his cock, and then Mike would suck at that one spot on his neck, which was playing dirty because Mike knew what that did to him. 'Ohhh, does he know,' Micky thought-groaned when Mike bit down and then soothed the sting with his tongue.

"Hey, Mick?" Mike whispered, trailing his tongue up to lightly caress the shell of Micky's ear.

"Y-" Micky broke off when Peter did something with his tongue that made a flash of white burst before his eyes. He shook his head and attempted to focus. God, he was going to explode if Mike didn't let him come soon.

Mike turned his chin so that they were facing each other.

"You can come now," he murmured against Micky's lips before taking them in a rough kiss.

Micky's cry of release was muffled by Mike's lips. Peter greedily swallowed the hot fluid coursing down his throat.

Micky slumped, simply sitting on Peter's stomach as Mike's pace faltered, thrusts becoming erratic. He brought a hand to Peter's cock, sliding his hand up and down roughly.

"Fuck... Peter... gonna come..." he grunted in fragments.

"Mike... please..." Peter groaned under Mike's touch, breathing shallow as he felt his orgasm approaching. "Fuck, fuck, Mike," he howled as he climaxed, coating Mike's hand and his own stomach with his come. Mike bit into Micky's shoulder, shaking with his own release.

Micky reached back, running a hand through Mike's hair as the other man placed an exhausted kiss on the spot he just bit. Micky smiled in amusement.

"Did you just kiss my boo-boo?" he asked with a teasing tone. "Aww, Mike, that was almost cute. I didn't think you did cute."

"Shut up, Dolenz," came the predictable gruff reply from the body currently taking residence against his back. "Or I'm gonna have to hit you, and I don't think I can move."

"Well, does that mean I can call you adorable and you won't- OW! Fuck, Mike, that hurt!"

The reply was undeniably smug. "Then don't call me that."

Amusement. "I dunno, Mike, that was kind of adorable."

A growl. "Peter..."

"Hey! How come you didn't hit him!"

A roll of the eyes. "Micky, I dare you to hit Peter and not feel bad for about a month."

"..."

"That's what I thought."

 

Striking the Match