tumblr hit tracking tool

Copyright (c) Naked Persimmon 2010-11. All Rights Reserved.

Contact Us - Submit Your Stuff

Home Fanfiction Fan Art Gallery Inspiration Station Rugulator Room Tumblr Links Contact Us

Feedback for the author...

Fic Title *
Feedback *
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.


"I Fall to Pieces - Part 1: Pretty Little Princess"



Title: I Fall To Pieces – Part 1: Pretty Little Princess
Author: Moondreams
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Mike/Peter
Genre: Slash
Warnings: Language, sexuality, people being oh so stupid (and by people, I mean Mike)
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 and Peter’s relationship is becoming more and more of a reality every day as it begins to seep into their working lives.
Author’s Note: Well, this is it, the unravelling :( Through all the parts, I have tried to be as chronologically accurate as I could. Jason Nesmith was born in August ’68 which would mean the affair took place around November. In doing a bit of research, I noticed that Nurit would have been on the set the same week they filmed the two slashiest episodes (Monstrous Monkee Mash and Fairy Tale). I just found that very interesting and so that is where this part originated from. This was so hard to write so I apologise if it’s a bit all over the place and a little disjointed! Also, I was intending to post it yesterday but after two hours of furious typing, I managed to lose the whole thing! I’m already on part 2 which I hope to have up sometime tomorrow.

It was getting to be a very strange week for Michael. In fact, the whole month had been rather eventful but now it seemed to be peaking. He felt like he was watching his life through a window, he didn’t remember doing half the things he’d done any more, he was all over the place.

He was busy at home, trying to take care of Phyllis after her horrific car accident. She was running him ragged and he was finding it hard to keep up but he obliged to her every whim. By the time he got to work, he was exhausted but Peter never failed to give him a burst of new energy which he appreciated. He couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d slept for more than a few hours.

Peter had been the most interesting development. Ever since Mike had reaffirmed his love for him, Peter had become insatiable. He savoured every moment he got to spend with him (which lately had been quite little) and had a new manner about him, he seemed more excited by their relationship. It was infectious and Mike found himself falling even more for his adoring hippie. He sort of felt like they’d done everything a bit backwards: they’d gone straight to the anguish and drama and were only now experiencing the initial pleasures. It was as if they were teenagers.

However, the excitement was becoming dangerous. They hadn’t noticed it themselves but it was pointed out to them by their ever faithful musketeer, Micky. He’d picked up on their behaviour and was becoming more aware of it seeping into their every day lives. He chose to confront them about it during a photo shoot.

“You guys seriously don’t see it?” They both shook their heads, they really didn’t.

“You don’t think it’s going to look a little strange to the other guys that you quite happily have your photo taken practically draped over Peter? That won’t look odd?” Mike shuffled slightly but Peter defended him.

“He wasn’t draped over me! He was just leaning his head on my shoulder, perfectly normal pose.” Micky shrugged his shoulders, defiantly.

“Fine. But don’t blame me if people look at that photo and get ideas. I’m just trying to look out for you guys.” Peter sighed, frowning at himself and then looked back at Micky.

“I know, man. Sorry, you’re right. We’ll be more careful.” Micky smiled softly at them both. He knew that they rarely saw each other much anymore, Peter refused Mike every time he offered to come over one night ordering him to stay home with Phyllis. They spent little time alone, didn’t get much opportunity to show their affections so it was starting to leak into their public lives.

But, even with Micky’s warning, they found it hard to help themselves. It was just brief glances or soft touches in front of the camera but it was beginning to make people look at them a little strangely. Things got particularly awkward at a creative meeting between the four of them, the producers and the writers.

They were discussing an upcoming episode called ‘Fairy Tale’ which involved one of three playing a princess to Peter’s knight. None of them were fond of drag and this was a full on character, not just a silly disguise. They knew it would be a fight to palm it off on-

“I’ll do it!” When Mike was faced with silence, he realised he’d probably sounded just a little too eager. Everyone stared back at him with wide eyes, everyone but Micky and Peter. Micky closed his eyes, hanging his head in disbelief while Peter was more wide-eyed than anyone else but a hint of a smile played across his lips. Mike coughed, mind working frantically.

“I mean, y’know, I haven’t done drag yet on the show and it -uh- she seems like a good character. Fancy doin’ somethin’ a little different. That OK?” The question came out more like a challenge as he tried to save face. Everyone was happy to let him get on with it. As they were leaving the meeting, Peter crept up beside him.

“Are you crazy!?” He tried to sound incredulous but his smile had finally broken through to reveal his true feelings. Mike couldn’t help but laugh.

“I think I am. Y’know, I worry about what you do to me sometimes. I think you threaten my sanity. God, what in the hell have I gotten myself into?”


As the shooting date drew nearer, Mike began to worry that it really had been a bad idea. He was soothed somewhat by the fact that Micky and Davy had not escaped drag after all but the implications were still looming. What made him feel even more uneasy was the arrival of a photographer friend of Peter’s, Nurit. She seemed to want to take pictures of everything and he was constantly fretting over what she might capture.

He took her to one side one day on the set and what had intended to be a brief request became a fairly longwinded conversation about musicians and her career. He was surprised at how sophisticated and knowledgeable she was, although he wasn’t sure why, she was a friend of Peter’s after all. He found himself talking to her quite a lot over the next couple of weeks, frequently joining her and Peter for lunch or for drinks.

The first day of shooting was a doddle, it consisted only of Mike playing the other ‘Mike’ character but he knew that tomorrow was the day. As he went to the dressing room, he saw his Princess Gwen wardrobe hanging from the door.

“I cannot wait to see you in that.” He opened the door a little wider to see Nurit standing there, camera in hand as always. He smiled, letting her in fully to admire the outfit. She had to laugh, just from the idea of him wearing it. She made herself comfortable and even though Mike was ready to leave, he wound up hanging around, engrossed in another conversation.

He never meant to do it but he always wound up turning the conversation to one thing: Peter. He knew very little about his life outside of their circle and she had a wealth of information he couldn’t get enough of. Tonight he got round to asking one of the most basic questions that had been nagging at him.

“How did you and Peter become friends?”

“What can I say?” She responded. “I have a thing for musicians.” It was an honest enough answer but it was loaded in its delivery. It confirmed what Mike had been lead to suspect, she dug him. The flash of a smile, the silky voice, she wasn’t trying to be subtle about it either. He couldn’t help but be flattered and naturally more than a little proud but he knew now that he had to tone down his flirtatious behaviour around her, so as not to give her the wrong idea.

He abruptly ended the conversation, saying a brief goodbye.

“Gotta get home to the wife, she’s uh, she’s recovering from an accident.”

“So Peter told me. Hope she gets better soon.”


“So…I’ll see you tomorrow then.” There was that tone again, this time with an added brush of his arm.

“I look forward to it.” He said teasingly, a smile playing on his lips as he closed the door behind her, leaving himself alone in his dressing room.
Huh. So much for the not flirting... He put it down to male instinct, automatically emulating ones affection towards you. Perfectly innocent.


That night, Mike had the worst night’s sleep of his life. His mind reeled with thoughts of Phyllis’ struggle to keep going through the pain, the safety of their unborn baby, an intense longing to spend more time with Peter, Nurit’s advances and his impulse to reciprocate, tomorrows shoot… He gave up in the end, choosing instead to work on some music. It didn’t help much.


The next morning he’d felt like he was making his walk down death row when he walked onto the set in full costume and make-up. Everyone he made eye contact with tried desperately to suppress their smiles. Some of the more daring ones cat called and whistled in his direction, making him clench his fists tightly and pick up his pace. Once he reached Micky and Davy, it didn’t get much better.

“Ho-ly shit! Man, you have got to be the most terrifying chick I have
ever seen!”

“Well, we can’t all be as dainty and feminine as you now can we, Davy?” Mike replied, bitingly. He really was not in the mood. When Peter arrived, however, struggling to move in his knight gear, Mike’s mood shifted. At the sight of Mike, Peter gave him a sympathetic smile, knowing how much he must have been hating it.

“Told you you were crazy.” But Mike merely gave him a breezy smile, the sight of him in that outfit, as tacky as it was, brightening his dour demeanour.
Oh, the games we could play with that costume… Since their last proper night together, Peter had gradually been getting Mike more and more into the playfulness of sex and although he was hesitant at first, he was definitely warming up to the idea each time. For Peter, sex was more than just getting off, it was a way to appreciate each other’s bodies and it really did blow Mike’s mind how sensual he could make it.

He frowned towards Peter who, judging by his rather vacant expression, Mike thought was probably thinking the exact same thing. When Peter realised he was being stared at, he flushed a light red, smiling coyly, biting his bottom lip. A deadly combo but Mike managed to keep his cool.
Just as I thought, he said smugly to himself. This may be a little harder than I’d expected.


He wasn’t wrong. The shoot was blissful agony. They’d never been able to fawn over each other so publically before and they loved it. It took all of their strength to keep things clean. They could quite happily have jumped each other there and then, giving the crew a full show.

It got especially tough during the prison scenes. Mike had learned that Peter was a pretty kinky sort and seeing Mike in those shackles…well, fake or not Peter was amazed he remembered any of his lines with his mind on...other things. Once again, Mike was quick to pick up on Peter’s thoughts and he found himself thinking along the same lines. He was actually finding the gaudy dress to be something of a godsend as it perfectly disguised any compromising bulges.

It may have been crazy but Mike sure as hell didn’t regret it, it had been the most fun he’d had on the show so far. Nurit had shown up partway through the day to snap some shots of this towering Texan in a dress, not once managing to keep a straight face. Micky had initially been worried about how it was going to work but he got caught up in it all along with everybody else. It seemed to be that if Mike was happy, everyone was happy. And Mike certainly was happy.


At the end of the shoot, after doing a few retakes and the majority of people had left, Mike was back in his dressing room, changing back into the more familiar shirt and pants. He heard a knock at the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me.” Mike grinned at the sound of Peter’s voice as he moved to open the door.

“Some day, huh?” Mike said, about to do his tie but realised there wasn’t much point. Peter leant against the door, closing it. He stared intensely at Mike, seeming calm on the outside but his heart was doing about 10 beats to the second. Something had stirred Peter today, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Davy may have been right, Mike may not have made the best looking woman, why in the hell should he when he was the hottest guy Peter had ever clapped eyes on? But Peter sensed something in Mike’s Gwen, at least he’d hoped to god he did because if it was his imagination he could be about to make the biggest mistake of his life.

When Mike looked back at him with those eyes, still bearing the long eyelashes emphasising their darkness sucking Peter in, he saw it again. Longing. It was like Mike was trapped by an invisible cage, desperate to get out but unable to do it himself. Peter was prepared to take the risk to free him…

“Pete, what’s up?” His staring was beginning to unsettle Mike. Without breaking eye contact and without a hint of amusement, Peter responded in an unusually low voice.

“You’ve still got your make-up on.” Mike quickly looked in the mirror, laughing at the sight of himself in a suit with make-up on.

“Well, that would’ve got people talking that’s for damn-“ The rest of the sentence was muffled by Peter’s lips as he grabbed him by both ends of the tie, yanking him forward into a forceful kiss. The words quickly dissolved into appreciative moans as Peter’s tongue began massaging Mike’s own.

He had to pull away to catch a breath, noting how Peter’s breathing was also unsteady. He laughed breathlessly as he saw his own lipstick smeared over Peter’s mouth. He pulled off the eyelashes before sauntering back over to Peter, brushing his thumb over his lower lip, removing the red colouring. Peter never took his eyes off Mike who never took his eyes off Peter’s gorgeous lips. He subconsciously ran his tongue over his lower lip and Peter took that as his cue.

He pushed Mike’s hand away, going in for another kiss which Mike pre-empted this time, partially leaning into it. Peter twined his hand in Mike’s hair, pulling him closer. Mike could feel how hard Peter was and his unexpected actions were making sure he wasn’t far behind.

Peter furiously started kissing down Mike’s neck, unbuttoning his shirt so he could continue the trail down his chest. When Peter gently bit at his nipple, Mike jerked slightly at the same time bumping against the dressing table. He hadn’t noticed that Peter had been slowly backing him up.

He moved back to Mike’s mouth while he worked at undoing his pants. Mike was trying desperately to keep up with Peter’s ministrations but it was almost impossible. He managed to rid Peter of his pants, making the man gasp as the cool air contrasted wonderfully with the heat radiating from his throbbing cock. Mike began to stroke it, still kissing him but frowned as his hand was moved away. He looked to Peter for an explanation.

“No. Sit down.” Mike didn’t need telling twice, it was as if he was in a trance. The commanding voice and attitude stirring something inside of him. Peter was actually surprised by his immediate response but this only made him swoop in for a deeper, more passionate kiss.

Mike began moaning again, relaxing against the mirror behind him, letting his head loll back. Peter continued to remove the obstructive pants and underwear with one swift movement. As he teasingly brushed his fingertips over the head, he treated Mike to one of those oh-so devious smiles of his. Mike was suddenly overcome with an overwhelming desire for this man and couldn’t prevent his hips form snapping up to garner more contact. Peter immediately retracted his hand, scolding him with a stern expression that bore more than just a tinge of delight.

All of a sudden, Peter was on him, tongue diving in and out of that gorgeous, pouting mouth. Mike actually growled as he felt their bare erections rub gloriously against each other. Mike was so distracted by the blissful friction, he didn’t notice Peter grab the tub of Vaseline that sat on the table. In between kisses, he covered two fingers before saying a quick prayer to whoever might care and pressed them into Mike’s exposed entrance.

As distracted as he may have been, the move didn’t stop his eyes flying open and an exclamation of discomfort leaving his lips.

“What-?” Peter pressed his other hand to Mike’s chest, trying to sooth him.

“Just relax. Please, just...trust me.” He went to answer back but one glance into those eyes and he didn’t need to. He did trust him, completely. He knew that Peter always had his best interests and would never do anything he didn’t want. He found himself relaxing. Peter gave him a more tender kiss as he slowly moved his fingers, stretching Mike out.

When he pulled out, they just stared at each other. Mike, awaiting (dreading?) the next move and Peter still trying to figure out if he was doing the right thing.

“I want you.” Peter said, quietly. “I want to save you.” A jolt went through Mike then.

“This ain’t an episode we’re shootin’ here now, babe.” He said a little uncertainly. But he could see that Peter was deadly serious and he was struck by the realisation that Peter had figured him out. At the same instant, Peter could see from Mike’s expression that he was doing the right thing. He could see the unspoken pleading in his eyes. Peter had figured out that Mike was never going to ask Peter to make love to him, he would never suggest it, he couldn’t. It was going to have to be something Peter instigated. It had always been there, it just took his turn as Gwen to make Peter finally see it. The vulnerability.

Still, he looked deep into Mike’s eyes, waiting for some sort of green light.
Please. Don’t ask. Just do it. Stop me thinking. I need this, I want this. Peter caressed the side of his face.

“I love you.” Mike pulled him down for another kiss which was when Peter chose to thrust in. The sound of their wails must have echoed throughout the entire studio lot.

Peter practically sobbed, too afraid to move, the overwhelming heat and tightness that now surrounded his cock threatening to undo him instantly. Not only that, but he was inside Mike. He was finally being given the chance to show the man he loved just how much he meant to him. And by god if he wasn’t going to put all he had into making this as pleasurable as he could for Mike.

He realised he wasn’t off to a good start as he noticed Mike had stopped moving or even breathing, both his hands and eyes clenched tightly closed. Mike suddenly felt Peter’s hand grab his fist and he unclenched it to grip him tightly, twining their fingers together.

“You want me to stop?” Peter asked, voice shaking. Mike managed a laugh, letting out a breath as he opened his eyes slightly. He knew full well having been in such a position that stopping wasn’t exactly an option. But the fact that Peter asked filled him to the brim with affection. Besides, he didn’t want him to stop, especially after seeing how much it meant to Peter.

He made a conscious effort to try and relax, allowing Peter to get some movement going. He began to rock gently back and forth, letting Mike adjust to his size while gradually pulling out further and further. Mike began to get a feel for it now, moaning softly, encouraging Peter to pick up his pace. Peter took the hint and began pounding into him, taking him roughly while Mike began to move along with him.

“Mmm, feels good...” Mike muttered under his breath.
Just wait. Peter thought as he shifted position slightly, driving deep inside him.

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!! NGHH!” Mike’s hand splayed in Peter’s own, eyes rolling back in his head and hips thrusting wildly forward as he experienced one the greatest male pleasures. He moved with such enthusiasm that Peter almost lost his balance. He knew he probably should have been worried about volume control but the reaction had sent shockwaves through his entire body, all he wanted was to hear it again.

On every few thrust he made sure to brush past that spot and with each stroke, Mike exclaimed with as much force and vigour each and every time. They both knew they weren’t going to last much longer. Mike latched onto Peter’s shoulders as he dug his heels into his ass, forcing him to grind harder. Peter ran his hands up Mike’s thighs, loving how taut the muscles were there.

Mike’s face was inches from Peter’s, their foreheads occasionally knocking together. Peter could see the sweat dripping into his eyes which stared back at him with furious concentration.

“Peter, I want you. I want to feel you, god, harder, Peter. Please! Ungh...” Peter was completely dazed by how well this was all going, he was convinced that Mike would struggle to come to terms with it at least the first time. He began to thrust even harder, brushing his sweet spot on every movement now, burying himself as deep as he could.

Mike fell back again, breathing heavily. “That’s it Peter, fuck me. God.”

“You’re so fucking beautiful. Gonna come right in you- so tight- so
good...” Peter began to become incoherent as he felt his release fast approaching.

“Shit. Peter, gonna- I can’t-“ Mike’s hand flew to his cock, jerking it furiously, desperate for his own release. Peter pulled the hand away making Mike whimper in agony.
Yeah, horrible, isn’t it? Peter thought to himself but he knew this was certainly no time for revenge. He instantly replaced the hand with his own, twisting and jerking feverishly.

Mike propelled himself forward into Peter once again, crashing his lips to Peter’s as he shuddered violently from his orgasm, his cries passing between their open mouths. As Peter felt the warm fluid spill into his hand and the tightness around his cock intensify, he found his own release burst through him making him cry out in a series of strangled noises. He thrust into that willing body a few more times until he was spent.

Mike nuzzled his face into Peter’s dishevelled hair, lovingly kissing and nibbling his ear. Peter smile and laughed lightly as he tried to catch his breath, when Mike whispered something breathlessly into his ear.

“I love you. So much. I love you more than anyone I’ve ever known. More than anyone.” Peter thought his heart might have just exploded but he quickly reminded himself that he had said some crazy shit during and after sex in the past and Mike did sound totally exhausted and not exactly copus mentus so he chose to let it slide.

After a few moments, Peter slid out of Mike, silently thrilling at the small moan of disappointment that escaped Mike’s lips. He pulled his pants back on, sitting next to him on the table. His nerves started to creep back as he waited for some sort of response. Mike caught wind of this, giving Peter a very satisfied smile which Peter instantly mirrored. Mike gave him the lightest of kisses.

“Amazing. You.” Peter smiled, taking Mike’s hand in his own.

“Thank you.”

“For what? You did all the work.”

“For letting me. I know it wasn’t easy for you. You don’t know how much this meant to me.” Mike gave his hand a quick squeeze while trying to shut away a thought that was beginning to force itself upon him.

“Well. I really,
really hate to love you and leave you but I’d better head off before people really do start to get ideas.” Mike felt as if Peter wanted to say something more but decided against it. Mike stayed sat down as he watched Peter leave. As he began to dress himself once again, he noticed how much he ached and his mind began to work overtime.

He played the whole thing back in his mind as he briskly walked through the quiet studio. How amazing it was, the intense sensations, the love that Mike had felt from Peter, the words...the words. Mike knew exactly what he’d said to Peter, about loving him more than anyone. He knew damn well that he’d said it and now that he’d actually voiced it, he knew it to be true. It had always been true.

More than anyone. I love him more than anyone. More than my wife. I love Peter more than Phyllis. I love Peter. I’m in love with Peter. He repeated it over and over in several different ways, but it always came to the same conclusion.

As he continued his walk to the parking lot, he passed a small group of the crew who continued to cat call him and shout lewd comments, jokingly. But this was no joke. Mike suddenly felt suffocated by his own thoughts, he wanted them to stop, to just bask in what had just happened but they wouldn’t stop.

I’m in love with a man. A man. I’m in some sort of queer relationship. I can’t love a man, I’m not a queer, no way. I let him fuck me, I let him fuck me and I loved it. Every minute of it. Why didn’t I stop him? Why? He gave you the chance and you didn’t even fight, you just let him take over, let him fuck you. And you want more. It’s wrong. Tears began to well up in his eyes as a small voice in the back of his mind screamed at him. It wasn’t wrong, it was all sorts of right. Peter meant the world to him and he knew that Peter would never hurt him. It wasn’t a case of Peter being a man, it was simply Peter being Peter. But this voice of truth was no match for his ego and his upbringing which shut the voice off abruptly.

He felt bruised, trapped and broken. He needed to find a way to get fixed.

As he approached his car in the parking lot, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun round, startling Nurit who now stood in front of him.

“What are you still doin’ here?” He asked, sounding more abrupt than he had intended. Unfazed, she replied.

“I saw your car was still here, just wondered if there was somethin’ happening that might be of interest...”

“Nope, just...hangin’ around.”

“Mmm, well, since I caught you, fancy going for a drink?” The smile, the voice, the touch, it was all there, bared to Mike in its most accessible form. Before Mike even gave any real thought to what he was doing, he grabbed Nurit by the shoulders, pulling her into a rough kiss. She immediately surrendered under his touch, melting into him.
Yes, that’s it. Total control, babe. I’m not broken. It’s not me I’m still me I’m still OK Not broken...

I Fall to Pieces - Where the Wilde Things Are For Pete's Sake