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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.


"Take a Giant Step"



Title: Take A Giant Step
Author: Moondreams
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Mike/Peter
Genre: Slash/Smut
Warnings: Language, sexuality, also some fluff would you believe! Be aware that this is Real Life Mike and Peter not the characters.
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: A month had passed and both Peter and Mike are going stir crazy being kept apart, but an impromptu jam session may be just what they need...
Author’s Note: This is a sequel to Elusive Ragings, continuing on with the relationship of Mike and Peter. This is the calm before the storm if you will, a respite before I put these guys through relationship hell.
Author’s Note 2: I had intended this to be a short PWP but they demanded substance and I couldn’t deny them so it ended up being another lengthy one. I realise that my Mike is very gushy and unlike most interpretations of Mike but I do feel he was actually a painfully insecure person. That’s what I’m going with anyway!

It had been a month since the ‘revelation’ and Mike and Peter realised all too quickly the problems they now faced. They’d figured it best to keep things quiet and not tell anyone. Except Micky. There was no point trying to hide the truth from him, he’d put two and two together when they came back to the recording room, Peters hair slightly dishevelled and Mike missing several shirt buttons. When Micky had looked to Mike for confirmation of his suspicions, he was greeted with an unusually shy smile telling him all he needed to know.

He was cool though, he was happy for them both and had sworn to keep it to himself. It actually worked to their advantage when they began to lose their self control, Micky was there to steer the situation away from them.

As the Headquarters sessions began to wrap and they began work on their new album, the band weren’t seeing as much of each other as usual. Mike took the respite as an opportunity to spend with Phyllis and Christian who had been rather neglected during this time. Peter was hurt but he understood, he knew Mike still loved Phyllis and of course he loved his son, he just wished there was a simpler way to deal with it all. He most certainly didn’t want to destroy a family.

While they continued to keep up appearances, so as not to alert suspicion for Mike’s sudden attitude change towards Peter, they continued to argue. Peter had since discovered that Mike got incredibly turned on when Peter shouted back at him so they’d had to avoid that occurring. The only problem then was that Davy began to be very protective of his friend, never letting him be alone with Mike in case he was subjected to more abuse. Peter wasn’t ready to tell the Englishman that he would actually really like to be abused by Mike at the moment, so they had to cool off.

Neither knew it about the other but they were both going stir crazy, being so close to each other for such short periods of time and always having eyes on them. Micky, bless his heart, tried his best to get them some privacy but it was futile.

Mike knew Phyllis had noticed his odd behaviour and he didn’t want her to think he was having an affair or something.
But aren’t I? He thought to himself. It was a question he’d pondered since that first kiss. He’d come to the conclusion that no, it wasn’t cheating, because it was Peter. He knew it was a feeble excuse but he didn’t want to dwell on it, Peter was making him the happiest he had been in a long, long time.

Filming was pretty torturous but they tried to avoid too much contact if they could help it, unlike other times when they tried to find any excuse imaginable for a quick grope. Thankfully, Everywhere A Sheik Sheik did not involve many compromising moments although when Peter had had to walk right behind Mike, they both thought they were going to die. As they wrapped shooting for the day and got out of their wardrobe, Peter bounded over to the other three.

“Hey! I thought maybe we could have a bit of a jam session at my place tonight. Been awhile. What d’ya say?” He looked at them all hopefully.

“Sure thing, Petah. Sounds good.” Davy said, almost immediately but the other two faltered.

“Y’know, Peter. I should probably get goin’. Phyllis’ll wonder where I got to an-“

“You know she’ll be OK with it. She even said she was surprised at how little you’d been playin’ at the moment.”

“Well...” Mike ran his fingers through his hair, he wasn’t entirely sure why he was trying to find an excuse
not to go. He’d been hoping for something like this to come up for a while. Peter instead looked to Micky for some back up.


“Well, I was thinkin’ of going to see my mom-“ Micky suddenly looked up and caught the desperation in Peter’s eyes. He’d known how little time they’d been able to spend alone recently, he’d become a sort of middle man and was constantly being filled in on all the details.
Oh, the details... Micky grimaced to himself. They seemed to forget that even though he was cool about them, it still wasn’t his bag and he didn’t really need to know the ins and outs.

“But, uh, you know what, there is a song I’ve been tryin’ to write but can’t quite get it without the whole band. So, I’m in!” Peter looked back to Mike who was still struggling with himself to figure out what he actually wanted.

“I’ll cook...” Peter added, trying to make eye contact with Mike’s downturned eyes. Thankfully, when it came to cooking, he was far removed from his TV persona and they all knew it. Mike cocked his head slightly, looking into those eager eyes, all he could do was sigh and give a slight nod. Peter beamed back and even jumped a little.

“Great! OK, my place, 8 o’clock. I’ll go get the food.” And with that he strode off with a slight spring in his step, leaving the others to rearrange their evenings.


Just as Peter had said, Phyllis was more than happy for Mike to spend the evening with the band. He swung by Micky’s place to pick him up and they continued up to Peter’s in an awkward silence.

“So...how’s it going with the two of you?” Mike hesitated but he knew Micky was the one person he could talk to and he sure did need to talk.

“It’s OK. No, it’s great actually. Really. It’s just...I don’t know if I can keep it up, the both of them I mean. I don’t wanna screw ‘em around.”

Micky nodded. He had wondered how he was managing, trying to juggle the both of them. The main advantage he had was that Phyllis sure as hell would never expect the ‘other woman’ to be Peter.

“I can’t choose between them, out of the question. Phyllis is Christian’s mother and she looks after me, stuck by me when I had nuthin’, was nuthin’. And Peter...he just makes me feel flawless. That I’m doing something right. I just love being around him, sets me on edge.” Micky couldn’t help but think that Mike sounded a little more devoted to the one than the other but he didn’t mention it. Mike cleared his throat, thinking he’d probably revealed a little too much.

“But, you know, it’ll be nice just hangin’ out for a change. The four of us.” Mike didn’t sound very convincing, he was all too aware of how crazy this was going to make him, especially if Peter was going to be on that bass.

Mike didn’t notice Micky’s guilt ridden expression. Earlier in the week, Peter had taken him aside and asked him a barrage of questions about Mike and their relationship. Micky didn’t really know how to react but tried to help out his desperate friend as best he could. Now he was beginning to suspect that he had unwittingly been an accomplice in a not so innocent ‘jam session’.

When they arrived, Davy answered the door. He greeted them both, Mike with a tinge of hostility that Mike didn’t appreciate. Peter practically leapt to the door, all smiles as usual, but that wasn’t what made Mike inhale sharply.

He would never have thought it possible, but Peter looked even more beautiful than usual. His hair was extra silky, his smile seemed extra bright and Mike was sure the paisley shirt, partly open at the top and white pants (very tight, white pants he noticed) he was wearing were brand new. He quickly snapped out of his daze, closing his mouth as Micky gently but firmly nudged him.

Davy naturally took his agape look the wrong way, slapping his hand on Peter’s back. “Well, I like the shirt. Suits ya.” Peter smiled at Davy, looking back at Mike who had gone back to staring intently at this beauty before him. Under that intense gaze, Peter couldn’t help but blush slightly and give that shy smile that drove Mike wild. Mike tensed all over, trying to keep some self control.

“Come on, fellas. We gonna jam or what?” Both of them jumped out of their intimate moment, suddenly aware of Davy and Micky again.

“Sure. Right. Let me take that.” Peter grabbed hold of Mike’s guitar to take inside. Davy rolled his eyes, turning away and heading into the house.
Why does he always try so hard to get on his good side? Unseen by Davy, Peter quickly grabbed Mike’s hand, caressing it compassionately.

The brief touch sent electric shocks through his whole body and gravitated to his crotch. He allowed a small moan to escape his lips which pleased Peter immensely. He tried to pull himself together as he followed Peter inside.
We really need to do something about this soon. It’s gonna get to the point where I come just by looking at him!

They set up the instrument in Peter’s makeshift studio and got straight into the groove. They started off with some of their earlier material to get the real band sound going. Peter knowingly smiled to himself when he realised Mike was choosing songs that had him constantly at his keyboard. During the first hour or so, he kept ducking out to sort out the dinner. Every now and again they’d catch a waft of the meal and it smelt delicious but Peter wouldn’t tell them what it was, it was a ‘surprise’.

“I’m working on a new song. Wanted to bounce it off you guys if that’s OK, see what you think?” Peter said a couple of hours in when they were all totally at ease.

“Sure! What sort of rhythm we playin’?” Davy asked, tapping his tambourine enthusiastically.

“I’d kinda like to go solo on this one if that’s OK Davy...just for now.” Davy shrugged, sitting down at the keyboard as Peter got comfortable on the floor, legs crossed and an acoustic guitar in his lap.

Sittin’ by a firelight
Coffee cups for two
Touch my lips with your finger tips

Do you know what you do?
Yeah, you tear the top right off my head
You blow my mind
Yeah, I’m goin’ blind...”

When Peter had gone through the whole song he was met with silence. Micky knew how conscious Peter had gotten about his vocals so he quickly spoke up.

“That’s real good, Peter. Very you.” Peter wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not but smiled anyway.

“You thinking of recording it for the next album?” Davy enquired, clearly not as convinced of its quality. Peter shifted slightly.

“Well, I uh, I dunno. I kinda just wrote it for me and – y’know it’s...it’s a personal song.” At the last part, he chanced a look up at Mike who, he was surprised to see, was looking right back at him, unblinking. He hadn’t taken his eyes off him from the very first note.

There were several things Mike had learned he loved about Peter but the overall one was his relationship with music. When he sang, he became the song, it was raw, unadulterated passion and understanding of the material itself. People may have thought he had the weakest voice of the four of them but Mike thought he had the most power behind him, he could really command a song, make it live and it took Mike’s breath away. He suddenly became aware that he was being waited on for a response.

“Yeah, it’s – it’s pretty good, Pete.” At least, that’s what his mouth said but Peter read something else in those brown eyes.
I loved it. And I love you. Peter had to refrain from grinning foolishly.

“Thank you, Michael.” He said, instead. A sudden high pitched buzz brought everyone out of the slightly bizarre moment.

“Oh! Dinner’s up. Hope you guys are hungry, I think I cooked enough to feed the 5000.”


Peter led them into the kitchen dining area which had been decorated with fancy napkins and a solitary candle in the centre of the table. For a spontaneous jam session, a lot of thought seemed to have gone into its preparation but they shrugged it off and sat down, Peter opposite Mike and Micky facing Davy.

Peter wasn’t kidding when he said he’d cooked plenty. The main course had to be spread over two plates. All their mouths fell open when they saw what it was.

“Uh, Pete? You do realise this is steak, right?” Micky asked, stupidly.

“Yes, I do. Thank you, Micky.”

“As in from a cow-“

“Yes, Micky! I know what it is, I cooked it remember?” They noticed that Peter had prepared himself a meat free alternative but it was still unusual for Peter to cook meat at all.

“I just thought you might enjoy something a little more substantial for a change...” Peter trailed off when he noticed Mike was still staring at his steak, mouth open, expression unreadable. Thing was, to Mike this was more than a simple steak, it was a peppered Longhorn with a honey mustard glaze...just like his mom would save up for for his birthday. He’d randomly mentioned it to Peter months before they were even together. He was looking at the embodiment of one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for him.

“It’s wonderful. Thank you, Peter.” Davy looked over at Mike, bewildered, not quite believing he’d heard some praise without so much as a hint of sarcasm. But Mike was deadly serious and it made Peter’s heart skip a beat. Before he sat down, he put a record on low, for ambience.

They ate the meal in relative quiet, just the occasional small talk. Mike and Peter would steal the odd glance while their band mates were otherwise occupied, smiling mischievously at each other. But it was when Mike realised the record playing was Hank Williams, one of his favourite artists, that it hit him. This is a date. Take Micky and Davy out of the equation: special candlelit dinner, music, a dedicated song...this was a date. And it was the most romantic date he’d ever experienced. He’d never been on the receiving end of such doting and it filled him with a sense of pride and gratification that he’d found someone that would think he was worth the effort.

He couldn’t help but feel bad, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to reciprocate due to his overbearing paranoia of exposing his feelings. He greatly admired how Peter could be so passionate and downright dirty in the bedroom but was also a hopeless romantic. He looked up from his dinner, catching Peter’s eye and gave him a rare, brilliant smile, for the first time not caring who saw. Peter’s heart stopped beating altogether as he grinned back.


After the meal, they moved back to the studio to work on some of their newer stuff. Mike was on such a high, he was happy to sit back and let things happen for a change. It ended with them trying to perfect Pleasant Valley Sunday for the upcoming recordings.

For once, it was Michael that kept screwing up. He was too distracted, realising that it didn’t actually matter what instrument Peter was on, it was the playing itself that he found irresistible.

“C’mon mate, you ‘aven’t gotten through a single song yet.” Davy had been getting more and more irritated by Mike’s lack of focus but was relishing letting him know. It was beginning to mar Mike’s happy place which Peter keenly picked up on.

“I better do the dishes...” Peter said quickly.

“I’ll help!” Micky said, enthusiastically jumping up from his drums, hoping to get away from the building feud.

“No! Uh, I mean...no, thanks Mick but I can manage.”

“You sure?” He asked, failing to cover the pleading in his voice. Peter just answered with a soft smile and a nod, heading towards the kitchen.

He returned about five minutes later to find that Mike looked even more rattled than before. He glided over to his keyboard all nonchalant and counted them in straight away. Same as before, Mike lost it right before the end. Davy hit his tambourine harshly on his leg although the light jingle did little to convey his frustrations.

“Jesus man, what the hell is wrong with you today?”

“Hey c’mon Davy, it’s been a long day...” Micky tried for middle ground as usual.

“Yeah, Mike. Get it together would ya? It’s not exactly a difficult song.” Everyone looked at Peter in shock. Davy’s with a tinge of amusement whereas Mike’s was with more than a tinge of hurt. At that look, Peter felt a pang of guilt but he knew he had to press on.

“Although, I guess it is pretty hard compared to the kids stuff you write.” Mike couldn’t believe what he was hearing, it felt like his whole world was crashing around his ears. Had this all been just a big joke? Wait, of course it was. He should have known it was too good to be true.

“...fuck you...” He muttered half-heartedly at the floor.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Peter’s taunting tone set him on edge and he bit back.

“Fuck you!” He raised his head as he yelled and was slightly taken aback when he realised he was almost nose to nose with his blond band mate. He thought he saw something in those hazel eyes but couldn’t place it. Peter leaned in further still and said just above a whisper:

“No. Fuck. You.”

Oh shit.

“Oh shit.” Both Mike and Micky realised at the same time what was happening, but Davy misconstrued Micky’s exclamation as one of panic of the impending fight but he was worried for a whole other reason. Mike suddenly knew what that look was. Peter’s eyes were ablaze but not with anger, with pure lust and desire. Mike’s heart rate went through the roof, his breathing suddenly becoming ragged and his cock pressing uncomfortably against his zipper.

“Micky...” He managed to say in a strangled moan, his eyes not leaving Peter’s.

“Right. Davy, time to go.” Before the Englishman had a chance to react, Micky had him by the arm and was dragging him through the house.

“What-hey! What ya doin’?! Peter was actually standing up to that jerk, I wanna see him fuck him up!” Micky grimaced at the phrasing.
Dammit, visual. Stop, stop, stop!

“I really don’t think you do, Davy.” He continued dragging him, passing through the kitchen. Davy was momentarily distracted by the dirty dishes in the sink.

“I thought Petah said he went to do the dishes?”

“I dunno. Here.” Micky was not really listening and handing Davy his jacket before opening the door. “I’ve created a monster...” He muttered to himself but couldn’t help but smirk, he couldn’t begrudge them anything.

“Well, I just hope he gives him a good once over’s all I’m sayin’.”

“Oh, Davy. Just...please, stop talking.”


Mike and Peter continued staring at each other, motionless, breathing stilted until there was the unmistakable sound of the front door closing. Suddenly, desperately, Mike crashed his lips against Peter’s who kissed back with just as much force. Peter opened his mouth wide practically begging for Mike to deepen the kiss, he didn’t need asking twice.

Mike tangled a hand in Peter’s hair, the other moving down to his ass. Using both, he pulled Peter even closer to him causing their already achingly hard cocks to rub deliciously against each other. Peter had to break the kiss to let out a deep, impassioned groan. He leant his forehead against Mike’s shoulder, trying to remember how to breathe as Mike gently kissed and sucked on his neck.

The kissing quickly stopped when Mike felt Peter’s masterful fingers slowly trailing up his inner thigh. As it reached its goal, Mike’s breath hitched in his throat as he felt himself being freed from the confines of his pants. He let his head roll back, closing his eyes and gave a grateful sigh. Peter resituated his head so it was leaning on his chest allowing him to hear and feel the frantic rhythm of Mike’s heart.

Peter then began moving his hand up and down Mike’s throbbing cock in time with that beautiful rhythm.

“Oh god, you feel so good. I need you so bad, I’ve been goin’ outta my goddamn mind. You got no idea how many times I been jerkin’ it. You’ll be the death of me, babe.” Peter smiled with a sort of pride, nuzzling his head into Mike’s chest and picking up the pace of his hand.

“Oh, I dunno. Reckon I have a pretty good idea.” Mike’s laugh became a groan as he began to unravel.


“Mmm...” Mike replied, absently.

“Michael.” Mike frowned, realising Peter’s tone was one of caution, not passion. With all the self control he could muster, he managed to open his eyes and look at Peter who was looking up at him through his damp bangs with worried eyes. Mike began to mirror his expression.

“Peter, what’s wrong? Please tell me.” Peter frowned in frustration, it had all been much simpler in his head. Mike took his chin and brought Peter up to eye level. He silently urged him to speak while deep down he was terrified of what was about to be said.

“Michael, I. I want you to make love to me. I mean
really make love to me.” Silence passed between them for several seconds. It was something they’d never actually discussed but Mike would be a fool to say he hadn’t thought about it. Fact was, he was scared. He was scared that if they took it to the next level, there would be no denying that they were in a relationship. But looking at that anxious, adoring face, Mike wondered why the hell he’d left it so long. Peter deserved to know how much he meant to Mike and as he couldn’t seem to say it, he should at least show him.

Mike leant down to whisper in his ear. “Nothin’ would make me happier, babe. Not ever.”

The relief almost made Peter’s legs buckle and he grabbed onto Mike’s shoulders before pulling him in for another kiss that sent them both soaring.

Mike swiftly removed the paisley shirt while Peter fought with Mike’s shirt, managing to remove it while keeping all buttons intact this time. The tension was building too quickly, they knew they had to act fast so they let each other get their own pants down. Before Mike had a chance to make a move, Peter was in his knees and had taken Mike’s cock fully into his mouth.

“Jesus Christ!” Mike yelled, instinctively grabbing onto Peter’s shoulders. “Holy shit man, you gotta stop.” But Peter never had any intention of carrying on, he pulled back leaving a generous amount of saliva on the cock
(That massive cock...jesus, was it always that big?) making Mike moan slightly in disappointment despite what he’d just said.

Peter motioned for Mike to join him on the rug and he obliged, half crouching, half collapsing to his knees. Peter took Mike’s hand, never breaking eye contact and proceeded to take each finger into his mouth, sucking and licking them slowly. The act was so mind-blowingly sensual that Mike could easily have come there and then but he wanted to give Peter what he deserved.

Peter lay down on the rug, turning on his side. Mike then realised the more practical reason of the ministrations. He lay beside him, pressing up close and slipped a finger into Peter’s entrance. As he inhaled sharply from the initial discomfort, Mike crushed his lips against Peter’s and ground into him to relieve some of the tension. It worked as Mike felt him relax enough for him to slip in another finger, stretching him out. Peter squirmed again but tried to loosen up quicker.

Mike suddenly flipped Peter onto his back and lifted his legs up to his shoulders. Despite the lingering pain, Peter couldn’t help but get even more turned on by Mike’s domineering turn. He pinned Peter’s arms above his head but in spite of the roughness, Peter could still see the worry in his eyes. He quelled his reservations with a confident smile and nod.

“Do it.”

“You’re sure?”

“More than I ever have been about anything.” Peter’s words set off fireworks in Mike’s skull and he thrust forward.

“Oh shit!” Peter yelled. It felt like he was being torn apart. Mike was trying his hardest to go easy but he had never felt anything so hot and so tight around his cock, it was agonizing. He looked down at the dishevelled Peter who was taking deep breaths. He gave Mike the nod to continue so he began to gently rock back and forth.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight. Fuck.” He began to move faster as he noticed Peter’s groans of pain quickly becoming moans of pleasure. Peter arched his back to meet each of Mike’s thrusts.

“Ungh, Michael. Fuck, harder. Fuck me harder!” Mike rammed harder, leaning down to kiss his lover. At that moment, Mike hit a spot inside Peter he never knew existed.

“AHHH! Fucking shit! Holy-fuck!” The barrage of curse words caught Mike off-guard, allowing Peter to free himself from Mike’s grip. He wrapped his legs around Mike’s hips, lifting himself into his lap closing the distance between them and kissed Mike passionately. Peter continued the rocking, now being able to position himself so Mike’s cock brushed that spot on every thrust.

Mike brushed his cheek against Peter’s, their hair sticking together as Mike whispered in his ear in between nibbling the lobe.

“Come for me, Peter. Come on, babe.” He grasped Peter’s raging hard on and only gave it a few brisk strokes before Peter’s orgasm took hold, sending a shudder through his entire body. It came out almost as a sob but Mike was suddenly blindsided by his own release as Peter’s ass clamped down even tighter on his cock. He thrust a couple more times, milking himself of his release before they collapsed in a tangled heap.

Mike gently slipped out of Peter and they waited to speak until they’d caught their breath. Out of nowhere, Mike started to chuckle. Peter looked over at him, brushing the bangs out of his face, with a look of amused confusion.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nuthin’. You’re just so smokin’ hot, I thought I could actually smell burning for a minute.” Peter chuckled too at the compliment but the colour quickly drained from his face. He shot up, grabbing his pants, almost tripping over them as he to put them on and run at the same time. In alarm, Mike followed him into what seemed to be Peter’s bedroom.

Mike’s eyes widened at the sight. Lit candles littered the room along with incense and rose petals over the bed sheets. Peter was putting out a small fire that had started in the corner of the room.

“What the-“ Mike said, not actually meaning to say it aloud. Peter sheepishly approached the bed, sitting down, absently playing with the petals.

“I thought I’d try and make it special. We didn’t quite make it this far, huh-?” He noticed the absolute fury in Mike’s eyes and panicked. Mike felt sick to his stomach.

“You went to all this trouble and I manage to fuck it up yet again. I ruined the perfect night because I couldn’t control my dick.” Peter looked at him incredulously.

“No! God, Michael. It doesn’t matter where it happened. It happened. And it was perfect.” Mike sat down next to Peter on the bed then lay down, picking up a whole rose that lay on the bedside cabinet. Peter crawled up next to him and they just stared at each other for a while in a comfortable silence. Mike trailed the rose over Peter’s flawless features.

God, I love you.

“I love you, too.” Peter said, quietly. Mike stared back, worried he’d said it aloud but no, he didn’t need to. It was all there for Peter to see and for that he was grateful. After a few more moments, Mike looked around again.

“Shame for all this to go to waste though. Know what I mean?”

“Mmmm. I love how you think.” Peter purred. With that, he slinked on top of Mike, straddling him. “Who’s up for round two?” He grinned wickedly and Mike returned the smile ten-fold.

You're So Good to Me Elusive Ragings