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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.


"Liquid Fire in Your Veins"



Title: Liquid Fire in Your Veins
Author: Lucy
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Micky/Mike
Genre: Slash
Warnings: Smut, language. Elements of bondage.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Monkees and make no aspersions toward their sexualities.
Summary: A prequel to the prequel, if you will. No plot, really, just a view of Micky and Mike's relationship before Peter joined them, which is unhealthy, but neither of them really cares.
Author's Note: So, this was written because I felt that I should show what Micky and Mike's relationship was like before Peter got with them. It's not healthy, nor is it loving, and pretty much all it is comprised of is sex. It took Peter for them to admit that they actually cared about one another. They both knew they loved each other, but neither was willing to admit it for the fear of getting hurt. They figured that at least screwing would give them some sort of contact. Why, yes, I overanalyze my characters.
Author's Note #2: This isn't actually essential to the overall action of the series, I just thought it might be of interest to some people what Mike and Micky's relationship was like before.

"You're such a slut."

Micky groaned from his position at the headboard, gripping the bars so hard his knuckles were white. He arched his back in pleasure, like a cat.

Mike trailed a finger up the back of the other man's slim thigh.

"So eager for it... you're practically beggin' me to fuck you and you haven't said a word."

Micky whimpered, spreading his legs hopefully as Mike's fingertip drew back down his thigh.

"Oh, you want it
bad, don't you?" Mike asked in amusement. "You just want me to-" he suddenly rammed a finger into Micky, "-shove my dick into you."

Mike greedily drank in the moans Micky released as he attempted to move his body down farther onto Mike's finger.

"I don't think so," Mike said smugly, sliding his finger out slowly."You'll get more when I
say you can have more. Right now, you can just... relax."

Micky spoke his first coherent words of the evening.

"Mike... please... fuck me, Mike," he gasped out, attempting to free himself from the ties binding him to the bedposts. "I want your cock in me... Please, Mike..."

"Oh, well if you're gonna be
polite about it..."

Mike shoved his hard dick into Micky, then removed it just as quickly.

Micky was nearly crying from a combination of pleasure and need. He thrust against the bed a few times, seeking friction and relief for his aching erection.

"Mike, harder, faster, more,

"Alright, you asked for it," Mike replied before thrusting back into Micky. He began to set a slow, languid pace, torturous for Micky but also
so good ...

Mike!" Micky cried, the words exploding from his mouth. "Please, just fuck me, hard and fast and good, Jesus, please!"

"No need to beg, babe," Mike crooned. He rammed into Micky, pounding in and out, grinning when Micky uttered a choked cry.

He leaned over Micky to whisper in his ear.

"You like that, don't you, slut, like my cock in your ass, you
love me fucking you, don't you?"

"Yes!" Micky practically sobbed. "Yes, I love it, I'm a slut, oh God, fuck!"

Mike reached a hand around Micky's body to grasp his dick. He gave it a few short tugs and felt Micky tighten around him as his orgasm hit.

"Fuck, Mike, fuck!" Micky cried, clenching around Mike as he came.

Christ, that's good," Mike groaned his release, spilling into Micky and then collapsing onto his side.

They lay there for several minutes before Micky shifted uncomfortably and Mike finally remembered to reach up and undo his bonds. Micky sat back into the pillows, rubbing his wrists and not looking anywhere near Mike.

"I'm gonna..." he said quietly, trailing off because he had no idea what he was going to say.

Mike stared, gaze unwavering, at the wall. "Right."

"Yeah..." Micky sighed. 'It's always going to be like this, Dolenz, get used to it now, 'cause it's not gonna change.' He stood and began to gather his clothes.

Mike watched him out of the corner of his eye. 'Just once, I wish he'd stay... I wish I could give him a
reason to stay.'

Micky, now fully dressed, stood awkwardly at the foot of the bed. "I'll... I'll see you later, Mike," he said.

"You good for practice tomorrow?" 'I love you. Please don't go.'

"Yeah, I'll be there." He paused in the doorway.

Mike finally looked at him. "What?"

"... Nothing." 'I love you. Tell me to stay.'

Micky walked out the door, closing it gently behind him.




Sunburn Fanning the Flames