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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.
"Saved by the Bell - Part 8"
Title: Saved by the Bell P8
Pairing: Micky/Mike
Rating: NC-17
Author: Woolhat's Traveling
Mood
"I don't know what's got into you, I really don't! This is the second time you've
disappeared! Your mother and I were sick to death. We were just about to send the
police to help us search!"
Micky didn't look at his father but kept up a staring
contest with the floor. He didn't really hear the words at all; he was too busy listening
to the sound of his heart shattering.
"Do you hear me?"
The voice grew louder and
Micky finally looked up with tears in his eyes. "I'm...sorry." He murmured, his voice
shaking.
Micky's father ran a hand through his graying hair, looking to his wife
for support. He held a brief look of guilt for shouting so much and sat opposite
Micky in the old large armchair. "We were just so worried, honey," Micky's mother
spoke up, reaching out and brushing a tear from her son's cheek. Micky cried harder
at the contact and was engulfed in his mother's embrace. He knew that they didn't
understand the real reason why he was crying; they just thought they'd been too hard
on him. He could never tell them, how could he?
After a quieter lecture from both
parents, Micky retreated to his room to cry himself to sleep. He couldn't believe
so much had happened in such a short space of time and he felt so drained, mentally
and physically. He felt dirty too, dirty and used, just another toy. Micky hid under
his covers, the ones that had protected him for so long, and cried until his body
ached for rest. He slept in dreamless slumber knowing that with a new day came new
pain.
***
"Hey mate, long time, no see." Davy joked as he hovered around Micky's locker.
The curly young man was silent as he fumbled with various textbooks. Davy raised
an eyebrow and stepped closer. "What's wrong man? You seem really down."
"Nothing's
wrong."
"Doesn't look that way to me."
"Well what would you fucking know anyway?!"
Micky snarled, not daring to see the hurt look in Davy's eyes.
"If that's the way
you feel." Davy trailed off, leaving Micky to his own self-pity. Micky pounded his
head against the metal cabinet in frustration and tried desperately to swallow back
a couple of tears that were threatening to spill. That was when he felt the familiar
hand on his shoulder.
Micky turned his woeful eyes to meet black spheres of guilt
and sympathy. Mike bit his lip and shook his head slightly, as if that would help
the words come out easier.
"I'm not talking to you." Micky finally spoke, turning
away slightly but not fully able to shake off Mike's touch - he still wanted it so
much.
"I don't know what to say." Mike whispered as if Micky hadn't spoken at all.
"You could try the truth." Micky growled, trying to use anger instead of sadness
in his defense.
"You know the truth."
"I don't know anything, nothing was explained."
Micky hardly had time to finish when Mike suddenly grabbed his arm and steered him
down the corridor. Micky struggled slightly but he couldn't release the grip. He
tried to force his heels into the floor but he was just dragged along to a door at
the end of the corridor. There, Mike pushed him inside and all was silent.
Micky
watched Mike inspect the boys' toilets for inhabitants before the Texan turned and
took a breath to speak. "What do you want to know?"
"Tell me how you've got a police
record. And tell me why you seem to have the reputation of sleeping with other boys."
Micky crossed his arms and held a stony face.
Mike held an expression of hurt, he
looked physically pained, and he took a while before answering. "I burgled a few
places back in Dallas, I did a bit of shoplifting. That's how I got my record." Mike
paused and Micky gave a glare. "I haven't got a reputation Mick. I had a love affair
with a school friend and his ma found out. She reported me to the police but they
couldn't do anything; we were both minors. It became a bit of a joke at the police
station, seeing as they already knew me as a bit of a regular in their cells." Mike
bit his bottom lip again and glanced at himself in one of the wall mirrors.
Micky's
mind was doing somersaults as he tried to separate fact from fiction. "What happened?"
He whispered.
Mike looked up with mournful eyes, wild and seeking and saw a small
hint of compassion that was almost hidden on Micky's face. "His dad found some stuff
that we had stolen together and then they moved out of Texas. I haven't seen him
since."
Micky looked hard at Mike's face and tried to work out whether Mike was truthful
or not. He knew full well that he couldn't put himself through all the agony again
if he found out something equally devastating about Mike's past. When explained by
Mike, it all seemed so simple and not bad at all, but how could he be sure?
"I meant
what I said." Mike broke the silence again, "I do love you Micky."
"How can I know
if you're telling the truth? You never told me anything."
"I didn't tell you because
I didn't want to lose you, I'm sorry."
Micky's tears began to well up again, he didn't
know what to do. A few stray drops trickled down his face and Mike instinctively
stepped forward and brushed them away with a crooked finger.
"I didn't want to hurt
you. Please believe me Mick."
Micky looked up at him and tried to imagine life without
Mike. It was horrible and lonely and loveless. "I...I believe you." Micky murmured,
quickly wrapping his arms around Mike's waist and pulling him close as his body surrendered
to the flood of tears. Mike held him for quite a while; occasionally sharing a couple
of his own tears and they were Micky's living truth that his lover wasn't lying.
The next few weeks were as if nothing had happened. Mike was given a few hours community
service but he seemed pretty happy that he wasn't being thrown into some kind of
kiddy's prison. The pair of them sat together every lunch and spoke of their pasts
and their futures. No more secrets.
***
Summer was dawning across the country, and
Micky threw his head back and bathed in the glorious golden rays that danced off
his face. He felt like he was in an oven, all warm and crispy. Mike was lying beside
him in the browning grass, seemingly asleep. Mike's backyard was small, Micky noted,
but its high fences held the maximum privacy. Micky turned his almond eyes in Mike's
direction and they glowed with pride. He was pleased he had forgiven Mike, and the
Texan seemed to show no signs of going astray, in fact, they seemed to spend their
every spare moment together. The curly youth slowly dropped to his side in the grass,
where his face lay in line with Mike's. His dark orbs were closed in a moment of
utter bliss and his breath was steady. Micky's eyes ran over that smooth, gentle
face and he couldn't resist leaning forward and kissing it gently, first on the tip
of Mike's nose, then his earlobe, until finally reaching those soft, kind lips. The
dark eyes fluttered in response and were soon gazing at Micky with silent admiration.
Mike's arms immediately reached out and latched around Micky's shoulders, pulling
him down for a yearning kiss. The kiss seemed to last for hours, and Micky loved
it that way, they didn't have to rush anything. When they separated, Mike continued
his gaze of wonder, seemingly pondering the very meaning of life. Micky's fingers
were almost too eager as he fumbled with the buttons of Mike's shirt, pulling it
from him and then hurrying onto his pants. The Texan didn't move and simply absorbed
the attention, waiting for his turn to do the same to Micky. Soon they were both
naked, Micky's golden body glinting in the sun. He was bursting with adrenaline,
this was almost too risky, but Mike's cool, calm expression seemed to erase the fears
from his brain.
They made love gently and softly, almost as if they had fallen from
a line of poetry. Micky's eyes closed in bliss as he came, and he clung to Mike,
hoping that he could stay like this forever, hoping that they could never be separated.
At first, he thought that he would hate having to keep their relationship a secret,
and sometimes he did, but often he loved their little secret, he loved having Mike
all to himself, no one could interfere with them.
"I don't want this to end." Micky
whispered in Mike's ear as the Texan lay by Micky's side, mindlessly playing with
a loose lock of hair.
"It won't. Not as long as we continue to love each other. I
could die and it would never end, you'd still have this feeling." Mike smiled, laying
his hand on Micky's chest where he assumed his heart was.
Micky smiled softly, putting
his hand on Mike's chest in the same place. "Forever." He murmured and Mike took
his hand and kissed it. "Always."
