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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.


"Strength Is Mine When We’re Together"



Title: Strength Is Mine When We're Together
Author: Gondorbunny
Pairing: Torklenz
Rating: Ultimately NC-17
Warnings: Slashy sex, bad words, and lots of schmoopy lovey stuff. :)
Disclaimer: Do not own!
Summary: Peter addresses Micky's fears.
Author's Note:This follows a few days after the last story "Why Am I Standing Here". Resolution in one form leads to more conflict in another.

God, how can I tell him?

Micky sat alone in the wing chair by the TV, feeling completely torn down the center. On the one hand, he did not want to deny Peter anything that would bring him happiness, but on the other hand, if he had to go on sharing Peter’s affections, he thought he would go crazy.

Selfishness. Just pure, unvarnished selfishness, he berated himself. If this is what Peter wants, how can you possibly even think about standing in the way?

Even as he told himself that, however, he knew he couldn’t feel any other way. It was getting to the point where he either had to have all of Peter....or not have him at all.

Damn, how his stomach knotted at the mere thought. Not having Peter at all anymore? Did he dare to take that chance? Wasn’t it better to keep things as they were? After all, it’s not as though Peter loved him any less....or was it?

What if the day comes that he chooses Mike over you?

It was that same insidious voice that kept whispering to Micky night after night, even as he held Peter’s warm, sleeping body in his arms; a time when such notions should have seemed utterly ridiculous.

However, when Micky saw Peter and Mike together...saw the way that Mike could drive Peter into such an absolute erotic frenzy that he temporarily forgot everything (and everyone) else around him...he was filled with doubt. Yes, it was arousing beyond belief to watch them. In fact, Mike fucking Peter was hot with a capital H. It was downright pornographic, when you got right down to it.

Exactly right, the rational side of his mind tried to say, as Micky shifted uneasily in the chair, gnawing idly at his left thumbnail. Since when does porn equal love? Sure, Mike and Peter care about each other. They’re friends, just like you and Mike are friends. In fact, in case you’ve forgotten, Mike has fucked you too, and guess what? You haven’t fallen head over heels in love with him, and Peter hasn’t either.

Sure that sounded rational enough, but if it were true, then why did Micky’s gut clench every time he saw Peter smile at Mike in *that* way? That secret, special smile that used to be reserved for Micky alone? Why did Peter welcome sex with Mike anytime, anywhere, without a single hesitation? When did Mike suddenly become so damned important?

Stop being so fucking stupid, that other voice piped up again. After all, you’re partly to blame for this anyway. You’re the one that gave your seal of approval for Mike to become involved with us in the first place, and now you’re going to whine about it just because Mike and Peter are getting close? What did you expect to happen, you asshole??

“I didn’t expect Peter to get tired of me and fall in love with Mike instead,” Micky murmured in a lonesome, forlorn voice that was miles and miles away from his usual carefree tone. He sighed, barely even feeling the tear that traced its way down his cheek.

“But I’m not.” Micky turned his head in surprise at the unexpected voice, not even aware that anyone else had been in the Pad. Peter stood in the kitchen doorway, looking at him.

Micky was ready to throw up a smokescreen and dissimilate anything that he had said, but seeing Peter’s soft, concerned expression, any attempts at deception went right out the window. Especially when Peter said in a quiet, musing voice, “I could tell that something’s been bothering you for the past few days, but I never thought...”

Micky watched, frozen as Peter stepped out from the doorway.

“Micky...” Peter said carefully, drawing closer. “Micky, I...” He seemed lost for words as he sank to his knees in front of Micky’s chair, looking up at him almost beseechingly.

“I’m not tired of you at all, Micky. I could never be tired of you,” Peter said slowly, trying to make every word come out as clearly as possible. “Never. Don’t you see? I...” He paused, and then reached out to take both of Micky’s unresisting hands in his own. “You’re my life, Micky.”

Micky’s breath caught in his throat with a small gasp. Never in all his relatively short years did he imagine someone saying such words to him, and least of all this lovely, wise/innocent being that knelt before him now. Suddenly days of heartache and uncertainty had been wiped away by that one statement; so powerful in its utter honesty and simplicity. Micky’s cheeks were now wet with tears, shed as unconsciously as that first one had been.

He had meant to draw Peter up to him, but he found in his fragile emotional state that he lacked the strength, so instead he slid from the chair to kneel with Peter on the floor. Immediately, Peter enfolded him in a hug that was so warm, so loving, that Micky closed his eyes and wept quietly against Peter’s shoulder.

“God, Micky,” Peter whispered, holding his friend close, his own vision wavering and blurring as tears filled his own eyes. He was silent for a long time, stroking Micky’s back gently, understanding that Micky had to release all of his pent-up fears on this subject before he could truly discuss it.

“Shit, this is going to sound as cheesy and melodramatic as hell,” Micky muttered, his voice thick with emotion. He buried his face into Peter’s neck. “Peter...Please, please don’t ever leave me. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I mean that. I’d be lost.”

“I won’t leave you,” Peter said firmly, his arms tightening around Micky’s thin body. “Wasn’t I the one who fell for you first, after all? Why would I give something up that I worked so hard to have for my own?”

“You may have made the first move,” Micky said, pulling back now to look at his lover with reddened eyes. “But who’s to say who fell for who first? I think now that I was probably in love with you for a long, long time and was just afraid to fully admit it.”

Peter cocked his head slightly, his expression curious. “Do you really think so?”

Micky shrugged. “Who knows? But it sure feels right to me.”

“Mmm....Just like this does?” Peter purred, moving in to press his lips sweetly against Micky’s.

Micky moaned softly and leaned almost bonelessly into Peter’s body, giving himself over to his lover’s control fully and completely.

As much as Peter would have loved to stretch Micky out on the floor and show him right then and there how much he meant to him, he knew that the situation called for a softer, more restrained approach. Slowly, he broke the kiss, leaning in to touch his forehead against Micky’s, murmuring, “Come on. Let’s continue this in our bed. What do you say?”

Micky felt his lips tremble slightly. “Yes. Right now. Please.”

Smiling gently, Peter pulled back to press the lightest of kisses to Micky’s forehead, then stood, taking Micky’s hands and pulling him up with him. They moved toward the bedroom slowly, though both of them were buzzing with arousal and expectation.

Once inside with the door firmly shut behind them, Peter stripped his shirt off over his head and immediately embraced Micky, sliding his lips over the other man’s in a long, passionate kiss, so that Micky practically melted down onto the bed just behind him.

Micky hummed blissfully as Peter undid the buttons of his shirt, one at a time, not hurrying, pressing his lips to each new section of bare skin as it was revealed. He paused as Micky shrugged out of the opened garment, and then they were kissing slowly but heatedly again. Micky eagerly opened his mouth beneath Peter’s, welcoming the warm, probing tongue that slid sweetly against his own, darting and licking, advancing and retreating.

When they separated again, Peter climbed up completely onto the bed, slowly unbuckling his belt and unfastening his pants, peeling them slowly down from his hips. His eyes remained steadily fixed on Micky’s as he did this, and Micky’s respiration steepened in reaction, a flush infusing his features as he waited with barely controlled anticipation.

As soon as Peter had freed himself completely of his pants, he was using the same slow deliberate motions to remove Micky’s as well. Micky shivered as his lover took his time undressing him, watching everything with dark eyes that were heavy-lidded and slightly glassy.

Now Peter moved over Micky, sliding their nude bodies together, and as always, the feel of Peter’s skin slipping unhindered against his own was like a powerful drug to Micky’s senses. It made his head dizzy; it opened up his sweat glands; and it sent tingling, tickling sensations down through his belly and into his groin, causing his cock to shift and move and harden with amazing rapidity. At the same time, he was aware of how perfectly the two of them seemed to fit together, their lines and curves and angles melding like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle. He moaned softly as Peter’s erection made glancing contact with his own, and he felt Peter’s parted lips running over his neck, making him writhe slowly beneath his weight.

Then Peter’s movements stilled, his face hovering over Micky’s again, and Micky stared up into those beautiful burnt caramel eyes, perfectly framed by their long eyelashes and gracefully curving eyebrows. Slowly, Peter slipped his hands down Micky’s arms, linking with Micky’s hands and stretching both of Micky’s arms up over his head.

“Micky, I love you,” Peter said softly but firmly. “God, if you only knew how much...”

Micky’s breath caught in his throat as Peter kissed him again, harder this time, his fingers twining with Micky’s own, pinning his arms down to the bed. There was no sense of urgency between them. Neither was in a rush to advance to more physical activities. Right now was not about physical gratification, it was about emotional reconnection. It was about re-affirmation. The sating of primal need could come...
would come...soon enough.

As Micky pulled back to breathe, that inner voice that had tried to talk some sense into him earlier now spoke up again, though this time its tone was much quieter.

He really does love me. He does. I can see it in his eyes. Mike hasn’t drawn off any of his love for me. Nothing has changed.

This time, Micky believed every word that inner voice said, and that belief caused tears to well in his eyes again. Peter noted this and hesitated, looking slightly worried.

“Micky?” he asked uncertainly.

“It’s okay, Peter,” Micky whispered, smiling gently as he let his gaze move over the much-loved face that was inches from his own. “Everything is just fine. Hey Pete?”

“What?” Peter asked, the worry disappearing from his face in an instant.

Micky paused, a small tremor shaking his frame as he murmured, “Make love to me.”

Peter’s breath stopped momentarily. The soft, heartfelt way that Micky made the request made it ten times more beautiful...and also ten times more arousing...than usual.

Temporarily incapable of speech, Peter could only nod slowly. He bent his neck to kiss Micky once more, briefly and tenderly, before releasing his lover and shifting his body until he could reach into the bedside table for the Vaseline jar.

Micky lay still, watching intently as Peter smoothed the slick substance over the length of his cock, feeling the warm, caressing fingers of desire working their way through his body, slowly transforming the intense love he had for Peter into something deeper and more elemental.

He could see the same shift of emotions in Peter’s eyes as Peter drew near to him again, placing his hand on Micky’s hip and requesting quietly, “Turn onto your side.”

Micky did so, a tiny flare of excitement igniting in his belly as he felt Peter spoon in behind him.

“Peter,” Micky said, his voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. “Please...Make it slow. I don’t want to rush this. I...I need you to go slowly.”

Peter swallowed hard, a shiver running through him at the raw sound of the request. He gently stroked the length of Micky’s arm, and then reached down to take himself in hand and guide himself to Micky’s opening.

“Anyway you want it, babe,” Peter murmured softly, lovingly. Then he was pushing his hips forward, breaching Micky’s body, wrapping his arm around the other man’s chest and holding him close. He pressed his lips gently to the back of Micky’s neck as he pushed inside.

Micky whimpered in combined pain and pleasure as he was stretched and filled in one long, continuous slide. His eyes watered at the burning sensation, but he gritted his teeth against it and willed himself to stay relaxed. Once Peter was fully inserted, Micky twisted his upper body around so he could maintain eye contact with his lover.

As requested, Peter began to move with exquisite slowness, pulling back and pushing in with smooth, measured strokes, reaching as deeply as possible into Micky’s body before withdrawing again. Despite the languid pace, both of them were soon trembling and sweating.

“Micky,” Peter purred, dipping his head to suckle at Micky’s lips, parted as they were with his increased respiration. Micky arched his neck up, eagerly responding to the kiss. He moaned into Peter’s mouth as Peter gripped his hip, holding it firmly as he nudged Micky’s prostrate with the head of his cock.

Micky was panting for breath as they separated, his face flushed and wet, his eyes dark and hungry as he stared steadily at Peter.

“Oh god,” Micky groaned as his pleasure center was stimulated again. He tipped his head back, his eyes fluttering closed. He arched his body back against Peter’s, silently begging for more. Completely in tune with his lover’s wishes, Peter picked up his pace the smallest bit, a low moan slipping from his lips as the sensations had their way with him and the passion between them increased.

Micky regained eye contact with Peter, and such a wave of emotion struck him that it, combined with the intense physical pleasure he was experiencing, almost brought him to the brink of orgasm right then and there. He gasped with the intensity of these feelings.

“I love you, Peter,” Micky murmured, his arousal reaching a fever pitch so that he was almost delirious with it. He sighed as Peter nuzzled into his neck, kissing it repeatedly as Micky continued to chant in an almost incoherent fashion, “I love you. I love you so much.”

“Micky, I have to go faster,” Peter said, his voice deep and strained. “God, you feel so good. I can’t....I need to...”

“Go ahead, Peter,” Micky said, feeling drunk and dizzy with desire. “Take me hard. I’m ready for it, baby. Do it.”

Peter’s grasp on Micky’s hip tightened as he began to thrust harder and faster into the hot, willing body in front of him. His hips slapped repeatedly against Micky’s ass as their passion built to its crescendo. Sweat ran down Peter’s face and dripped onto Micky’s body, unheeded.

“Yeah, Peter,” Micky urged between clenched teeth. “Yeah, baby. Yeah. That’s it. Fuck me. That’s it, baby. Give it to me. Oh yeah.”

Peter’s hand slipped around Micky’s hip to grasp his cock, which was rock hard and leaking with need at this point. He began to stroke it through his fist, panting harshly in Micky’s ear. “I’m almost there, Micky. God, I’m so close. Are you ready to come, babe?”

“Yes,” Micky whimpered, straining against Peter’s body. “Oh god, yes. With you, baby. With you...please...”

Just a few more hard thrusts into Micky’s tight passage and Peter was thrown over the edge. The echo of his cry of release was still ringing off the walls of the bedroom as Micky’s joined in with it, his cock jetting his seed violently over the edge of the bed in burst after burst.

The two lay still for a moment, panting and trying to gather their senses back into some sort of logical order. Then Peter was withdrawing from Micky in order to allow the other man to turn over to face him. They embraced, their hands slipping over sweat-slicked, heated skin, their legs tangling together, mouths eagerly seeking and colliding, for although their immediate physical needs had been met, the intensity of their emotions remained.

“I’ll never want or love anyone else as much as I want and love you, Micky,” Peter said clearly, breaking away for a moment, his eyes searching Micky’s intently. “That is a promise. Please don’t ever worry about that again.”

Micky smiled gently, seeing and accepting the simple honesty in his lover’s eyes. Then he reclaimed Peter’s lips, feeling warm and satisfied and deliciously at peace.

As the two wrapped around one another, kissing over and over again, they were unaware that they had an audience. Mike had been surreptitiously watching their activities from the doorway, and he had heard the words that Peter had spoken to Micky.

Now, for the first time since becoming physically involved with Peter and Micky, deep down in the dark places of Mike’s mind, the first little spark of jealousy began to smolder.






Never Mind the Furthermore Why Am I Standing Here?