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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.


"They Say It’s Your Birthday"



Title: They Say It’s Your Birthday
Author: Moondreams
Rating: PG
Pairing: Torksmith
Warnings: None really, just slashiness and a whole heaping of stupid fluff
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: It’s Davy’s first birthday with The Monkees and they try and make it as special as possible. But Peter notices Mike acting a little strangely…
Author’s Note: This takes place before the show universe when Mike and Davy have just joined the group. It’s really my first attempt at full on fluff and I’m not convinced it came out too good, I think it feels a little flat but I don’t know. It’s just very, very soppy and lame but I had to get it out there.


“Huh?” Mike looked up quickly to see the concern in Peter’s eyes. He gave a reassuring smile. “Sorry, must have zoned out on ya…”

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately. Are you sure you’re OK, Mike?"

“Yeah, shotgun. I’m fine.”

“Everything’s OK at home?” That made Mike frown.
What on earth made him ask that?

“Uh, yeah, s’far as I know… Really, everything’s cool. It’s probably the fumes from these here balloons, gettin’ light headed.”

Mike could tell Peter didn’t believe him and was still worried but he didn’t question him further. About that, anyway.

“You got enough balloons? I’m gonna go sort out the invitations while Micky’s out getting the cake!” There was that childlike enthusiasm again, the one that Mike was getting more and more familiar with. He smiled at the sight of the young blond bouncing up and down, looking to Mike for some sort of approval.

“I got enough to keep me going, you go get the invitations before Davy gets back.”

“OK!” Peter said, brightly. “This is going to be so great, you think he’ll like it?”

“I think it’s just what Davy needs right now. You’re a good friend, Pete.” Peter responded with a more toned down, almost embarrassed smile before waving a good-bye and heading out the door.

Mike sat alone on the floor, surrounded by balloons and party streamers, getting ready for Davy’s surprise birthday party. And Mike was upset.

He wasn’t entirely sure why which upset him even more.


It had been 5 months now since he left Texas for California. As soon as he arrived he realised this was probably the biggest mistake of his life but his pride forbade him from heading home, at least until he’d played some gigs.

Not even a week later, while he was playing at some two-bit club, two young guys approached him. Well, to put it more accurately, the one practically leapt on him in his enthusiasm and the other sort of shuffled nervously towards him.

That was how he met Micky and Peter, trying to start a band and keen to have him as their guitarist. Not knowing where he might be in a week and grateful just for some company, he agreed. He couldn’t have imagined what he’d just signed up for.

As soon as Mike moved in, they all became fast friends. Micky made him laugh constantly and Peter, although quiet for the most part, was fascinating to Mike.

Micky loved being in a band there was no doubt, but Mike could tell that Peter lived and breathed music, it was everything to him and Mike greatly admired that.

Sleeping arrangements were quickly changed from Mike with Micky to Mike with Peter when it became apparent that Micky snored. Loudly. It was thanks to this change around that Mike got to know Peter a little better.

Mike didn’t know why, but Peter seemed a little timid around the Texan but as soon as Mike expressed the slightest bit of interest in something Peter was playing, his eyes would light up and you couldn’t shut him up.

Mike felt like he’d found something of a kindred spirit in Peter, he made him feel welcome and at home, like this was where he belonged. It was nice.

But then Mike suggested they needed one more person to fill out the band, someone that would draw the female crowd. They weren’t a bad looking bunch but Micky was too manic, Mike was too intense and Peter was too shy to keep their attention.

They went in search of the final Monkee and came back with Davy.

He won them all over instantly, especially Peter who loved hearing stories about England. He’d only arrived in America a few weeks previously and was feeling pretty down and homesick. They discussed it amongst themselves for a whole 10 seconds before deciding to take him in.

If only it had been that simple…


Mike frowned to himself as he stopped blowing up the balloons. Why did it bother him so much?

When Davy moved in, he was originally going to sleep in Micky’s room but it turned out he was a light sleeper so Peter asked Mike if it would be OK for Davy to be downstairs with him.

Mike was caught a little off-guard at the request so simply nodded his OK. He was hurt.
Why should I be hurt? It makes no difference, it’s not like we won’t talk anymore.

But Mike noticed how Peter spent more and more time round Davy and less and less time around him. It was a seamless thing but he noticed it. He noticed the all too familiar feeling of being alone and unwanted.

Deep down he knew he was being ridiculous. He loved playing with the guys and they were still great to him but it just wasn’t the same.

As the holiday season drew nearer, he began to miss home more than ever, as did Davy. But Micky and Peter’s enthusiasm for Christmas rubbed off on them quite a bit and he was happier than he had been for months. Until…

“Man, it’s freezing in here! We might get snow this year!” Micky said, brightly while hanging up some mediocre Christmas decorations.

“Don’t you get snow often? Usually always snows at Christmas in Manchester.”

“Really? Wow, bet that’s really pretty.” Peter said, quietly, shivering a little.

“Yeah, it was fun. I got to go sledging on my birthday-“

“Birthday? When’s your birthday?”

“December 30th.”

Mike’s ears suddenly pricked up. “30th? That’s-“

“The day before New Year’s Eve! Cool! So you have your birthday party and then a New Year’s party?” Micky loved parties, that much was obvious.

“Actually, no. I never had a party, we didn’t have the money what with it being between Christmas and New Year’s.”

Mike went to interject again but was cut short when Davy remembered he’d left the tree lights back at the shop so he went to get them.

Almost immediately, Peter beckoned the other two over.

“I vote we throw him a surprise birthday party. It might make him less homesick.”

“Right! But we don’t exactly have the money, Pete.”

“We haven’t bought the tree yet, maybe we just…wrap the lights around Mr Schnieder instead. Mike, what do you think?”

“Hm? Oh, uh, I think it’s a great idea. Yeah, that would really...make him feel appreciated.” Mike said, somewhat distantly.

Peter quickly busied himself with the preparations while trying to keep it quiet so that Davy wouldn’t figure it out.

And that’s how Mike was now sat on the floor on the 29th, blowing up balloons for Davy’s party.

He shook his head, dejectedly. He thought it was some sort of jealousy, Peter paying more attention to Davy but that wasn’t the right word. He didn’t begrudge Davy at all, he was very fond of him, he just wished he could have Peter back.


The party itself went off without a hitch.

A lot of friends turned up, everyone had a great time, especially Davy who was totally overwhelmed by the gesture. So much so that Mike forgot about any hard feelings he may have had.
Davy deserves this. He thought to himself.

Everyone gathered round when it was time for the cake. With the money they had left over, they managed to buy him a really nice sponge cake that had 18 candles on it.

Peter watched excitedly as Davy closed his eyes to make a wish. He looked at Micky who smiled and gave him a ‘nice job’ nudge, then he looked over to Mike but frowned when he noticed he too had his eyes closed, as if making his own wish.

Peter had never met anyone quite like Mike, he certainly was an intriguing creature.

Micky was incredibly physical, always running around, crashing into people, pulling them along and such. Peter was very touchy-feely, always there to give a comforting hug. Mike on the other hand seemed to recoil from any contact, he didn’t seem to know how to cope with it. Although Peter noticed it seemed to be more the case with him than Micky.

It didn’t offend him, it just surprised him.

Peter also noticed how little Mike actually spoke. He tended to just listen intently to everything going on around him. But when he did have Mike talking, he never wanted it to end.

Boy, did he have a lot of fascinating things to say. Peter had the utmost respect for his relationship with music and felt like he had found someone he could relate to. But just when he thought he was getting to know the guy, he’d close up and the conversation would die.

And now that Davy had joined, he found that Mike seemed to be avoiding him...Or was he avoiding Mike?

Recently, he’d been feeling a little...different, around the guitarist. He couldn’t quite figure out why but he knew it only got worse when he was in close proximity with him so he found himself trying to avoid such occurrences. As much as it frustrated him.

When Mike heard Davy blow out the candles, he opened his eyes, his gaze landing immediately on Peter. He was more than a little taken aback to find him looking straight back at him, a curious look on his face. Mike just laughed nervously before turning his attention back to Davy.

Davy loved all his gifts, especially the tambourine and maracas the guys bought him. He was only hired as a singer but they wanted him to feel part of a band too. It had cut into their rent but Mike urged Peter to go with it, he had been so excited about the idea.

By the time the last guest had left, there was a lot of clearing up to do.

Davy and Micky had volunteered to walk two of the girls back home, so that left Peter and Mike to get the Pad back in order.

There was an awkward silence between them, although neither of them mentioned it. They just busied themselves as best they could.

Mike picked up the half empty punch bowl to carry it to the sink but was suddenly intercepted by Peter taking the trash outside causing them to collide. Mike threw the remainder of the punch all over the floor and his shirt, while Peter skidded and fell over the couch.

“Jesus, Pete, you OK, man!?” Mike asked, frantically rushing over to the coach to see Peter sprawled across it looking slightly dazed.

“Oh, Mike! I’m so sorry!”

“Naw, it’s- I’m sorry. You OK?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Think so. Can’t say the same for the floor though…”

Peter looked down at the spreading puddle with disdain. “I’ll go get the mop.”

“No, I spilt it, I’ll clear it up.”

“No, I got in the way, it was my fault.”

Mike went to hit back again but saw no point, Peter may have been the gentlest soul he’d ever met but he could also be a stubborn son of a bitch too.

“Well, OK, but the mop’s upstairs in mine and Micky’s room. Could you bring me down another shirt too?”

“Sure thing.”

Peter hurried up the stairs, feeling somewhat flustered and he couldn’t place why.

He roamed around the bedroom, laughing at the state of it. One half was an absolute mess, clothes littering the floor, records out of their sleeves, drawers half open…The other half was immaculate. If it weren’t for the few personal touches you’d be forgiven in thinking that no-one occupied that space.

Peter approached Mike’s side of the room but managed to get tangled in a discarded pair of cords on the way, trying to use Mike’s bed to stop him from falling.

As he did, he accidentally dislodged the pillow, uncovering something hidden underneath.

Peter frowned.
It must be something personal, otherwise he wouldn’t have hidden it. I shouldn’t look… He thought to himself as his hand ignored him, reaching out for the pillow.

Moving it out of the way fully, he recognised the objects as cards. Picking up the largest and most tattered, no doubt from over handling, he read it quietly to himself:

“Dearest Michael, Hope you have a wonderful day and get the sort of birthday you always deserved with your new friends. Take care, son, miss you. Mom x”

Peter’s eyes got wider and wider as he read it. Then he read it again. And again.

Peter suddenly realised that this was undoubtedly the cause of the sudden increase in Texas mail Mike had been receiving which made Peter feel a little relieved, knowing that there wasn’t some family problem that Mike was keeping from them. But the real reason didn’t make him feel much better.

“Hey, Pete, couldn’t you find-“ Mike appeared in the doorway and quickly surveyed the situation. Peter looked up at him in disbelief.

“When was it?”

Mike saw no point in trying to cover his tracks, he couldn’t lie to that face anyhow. “Today…oh, well, yesterday now, I guess.” He muttered, hands running through his hair like he always did when he felt uneasy.

“God. Why didn’t you
say anything?” Now Peter just looked hurt.

“I- I didn’t want to make a fuss. It ain’t no big deal, Davy’s more important really an-“

“That is not true, Michael.” Peter suddenly interrupted, taking Mike by surprise. Peter realised just how stern he sounded and quickly tried to recover.

“I mean…no-one is more important than the other. You’re just as important to me- Us! Us…and well, this just kinda sucks, Mike.”

Mike sauntered over to the bed, sitting on it while picking up some of the other cards and shuffling them distractedly.

“It’s fine, really Peter. Don’t worry about it. I still sorta got a party anyway and I had a good time.”

“But – I can’t believe we made you think we wouldn’t care…” Peter was back to being hurt again, filling Mike with a sense of guilt.

“It wasn’t that. I just didn’t want the bother, y’know? I never hard parties neither so it’s no different. Just forget about it, Peter.”

Peter sighed, he wasn’t going to forget about it, how could he? Then another thought struck him that just managed to distress him further.

“Mike, that would make you 20. You’re not even a teenager anymore...”

“Yeah...Scary, huh?” Mike said, trying to lighten the mood but he could tell from Peter’s expression that he was still not taking this well.

“You don’t think that’s a big deal? Michael, you’re pretty much an adult now. This should have been a big day for you and we just ruined it...” Mike couldn’t understand why Peter was so upset about all this but before he had a chance to retaliate, Peter had grabbed the mop, headed downstairs and didn’t say another word to him the whole night.


New Year’s Eve, Peter barely left his room. He’d told Micky and Davy about Mike’s birthday and they had been very apologetic but he brushed it off and they went about their business.

But Mike was worried about Peter. Why had he taken it so badly? Mike should be the one that was hurt but he wasn’t, not really. Sure it would have been nice to spend his birthday with the guys, having a good time, opening presents, eating cake…Hm, maybe he was a little hurt but he didn’t blame anyone, it was his own fault for keeping it a secret.

Mike chose to spend the majority of the day in his own room where it was reasonably warm, just lying on the bed and thinking. Thinking about the band, thinking about his music, thinking about Peter…He thought
a lot about Peter.

No-one had ever understood him as well as Peter, he could read him like a book. He could tell when he wanted to talk, when he wanted to be left alone, when it looked like he wanted to be left alone but really wanted to talk,

Something about Peter just made him feel comfortable. Peter looked up to him and that made Mike want to be a better person, to actually behave like someone that should be looked up to.

But lately he’d been feeling like an outsider again, he felt he was losing that special bond and it was eating him alive.

For the last few days, he’d been trying to pin down his feelings for the blonde. Why did it matter to him so much that Peter was happy? Why was he quite willing to sacrifice his own birthday to make Peter feel good about helping Davy? Why was it that every time Peter looked in his direction, he felt himself blush and had to turn away? Felt weird flutters in his stomach?

These were the sorts of reactions you got when a cute chick would glance at you in class or across the street, so why the hell was Peter having this effect on him!?

He was shaken out of his thoughts by a tentative knock on the door.


Micky shuffled in, looking a little awkward. “Uh, Mike..”


“Um…well, Veronica’s sort of got a New Year’s party going on at her house tonight so, um, we were wondering if we could, y’know, go…”

Mike suspected that Peter had forced Micky to ask Mike if it was OK which made him smile and
again with those flutters! Jesus, even the thought of him causing it now. Mike noticed how Micky was rocking back and forth now on his heels, waiting for an answer.

“Sure, Micky, that’s cool.” Micky practically leapt out of the room in his eagerness.

“He said yes! Come on guys, lets go.” Micky slid down the banister, grabbing his jacket to meet Davy who was already out the door. Peter lingered at the bottom of the stairs.

“He doesn’t want to come?” He asked, looking at the closed door above him, forlornly.

“I think he probably feels more comfortable in his own space, doesn’t seem much of a party guy to be honest. You think we shouldn’t go?”

Peter sighed, he didn’t know what to think. For once, he was totally confused in what Mike was thinking. Did he want to be left alone? Did he really not think it was a big deal? Why was he being so distant lately?

“I guess it doesn’t matter. Come on, we better get going.”

Mike heard the door close and the engine of the Monkeemobile start up then fade away. Now he really felt alone. Maybe he should have gone with them, maybe it would have taken his mind off things.

But more likely it would just make him focus more on these
feelings. What ever they may be. He instead decided to try and get some sleep…



The loud noise woke Mike up instantly. He sat bolt upright in the bed trying to get his bearings. Once he remembered why he was in bed fully dressed, he focused on the noise he’d heard trying to decipher where it had come from.


It was coming from inside the pad, somewhere downstairs. This time the bang was followed by some frustrated muttering.

He looked at his watch: 11:45, the guys shouldn’t be back yet. Mike began to panic. Did they lock the door when they left? They don’t usually bother if someone is inside the house.

He very quietly got off the bed and grabbed his Gretsch, wielding it like a weapon. He paused suddenly, giving his precious guitar a sideways glance. He carefully put it back down and grabbed Micky’s acoustic instead.
He plays the drums anyhow…

As quietly as he could, Mike crept down the staircase, dreading what he may find. All the lights were out except for the lamp by the sofa but that illuminated enough for Mike.

His eyes got wide and his jaw dropped open as his attack stance loosened considerably making him drop the guitar on the floor.

“Ahhh!” Peter yelled, spinning around and popping yet another balloon.

Mike barely took any notice, he was too busy looking at the array of balloons that littered the floor and a hurriedly made banner that read “HAPPY BIRTHDAY MIK”.

Peter was watching his expression closely, following his gaze. “The ‘E’ won’t stay up.” He chuckled awkwardly, holding up the aforementioned letter.

“What…?” But that was all Mike could manage.

“It’s your surprise party…SURPRISE!” Peter smiled, weakly. He suddenly realised how stupid the whole idea was, how childish the idea was, especially to someone as mature as Mike. He thought that Mike was just going to shake his head and go back upstairs.

But Mike stayed put. He swallowed hard to try and keep what felt like tears coming to the surface.
For god sake, it’s just some balloons. Get a grip! What’s the big deal? But Mike knew what the big deal was, Peter had gone to all this trouble just for him and that realisation was overwhelming.

He coughed a little to clear his throat. “This is- You didn’t have to go to so much trouble, you know…”

“Michael. Do you think you don’t deserve stuff like this? Is that why you kept it quiet?”

Mike hadn’t really thought of that. Maybe that was part of it, but he realised now that the main reason was because he didn’t want to be faced with the truth that he didn’t mean as much to Peter as Peter meant to him.

But now that thought was being thrown into absolute confusion.

“Because you do deserve this. You deserve way more than this, actually. You have no idea…” Peter practically whispered the last part, as if saying it to himself but Mike caught it.

“Why don’t you talk to me so much any more?” Mike asked without his brains permission. The question took Peter completely off guard and he merely blinked a few times trying to formulate an appropriate answer.

Because I can’t make my mouth work properly when I’m around you.
Because I worry that I’ll make a fool of myself in front of you.

Because I want to be around you all the time and I don’t know why.
Because since Davy came here I realise how much I enjoyed talking to you, how important that was to me and nothing makes me happier than when I’m talking to you but it’s different and I know it’s not right and I don’t want you to hate me because I…

“I don’t know.” Was all Peter could say, none of the thoughts seeming in the least bit helpful and threatening to reveal things he wasn’t prepared to face.

Mike stared back at the blonde haired bassist, sensing that it was a lie but he wasn’t exactly being truthful with Peter either so he let it slide.

Hoping to change the subject, Peter grabbed Mike by the wrist and pulled him on to the sofa, taking up the space next to him.

“Close your eyes!” Peter said with that enthusiastic bounce to him again. Mike couldn’t help but smile at the display and did as he was told.

He felt the weight on the sofa shift as Peter got up, heard him shuffle over to the kitchen and then settle back down. He heard a scratch and then smelt the distinct aroma of a match.

“OK, open them.” Mike did so.

Looking first at Peter, his eyes shining brightly, then at what he was holding in his hand. It was a chocolate chip muffin with a solitary candle stuck in it, burning brightly.

“I would have got you a proper cake but we kinda spent all the money on…uh…” He drifted off, distress threatening to take over his gentle features once again.

“I love chocolate chip.” Mike said, brightly to which Peter responded with a radiant smile.

He blew out the candle and took the muffin from Peter’s hands, breaking it in half.

Instinctively, as if it were the most natural thing to do, he went to put the other half directly into Peter’s mouth. Realising what the hell he was doing, he quickly dropped it into Peter’s hand instead and looked away.

Peter blushed lightly, sensing what Mike had been about to do and then failed to stifle a laugh when Mike accidentally brushed a load of crumbs into his hair from running his fingers through it, nervously.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nuthin’.” Peter brushed the pieces of muffin out of his hair but noticed how, as soon as he had leaned forward, Mike had tensed considerably.

The reaction felt like a shot to the heart and Peter didn’t know why. He probably wouldn’t like it if someone just suddenly leant in to touch him either.
Unless it was Mike… His subconscious informed him.

Peter pulled back and they sat there in an awkward silence for a while as they finished off their muffin halves.

“There’s one more thing…if you want it.” Peter said, a little tentatively this time making Mike feel bad that he was making a hash of the whole ‘party’ atmosphere.

“Sure! That would be great!” He exclaimed, hoping that some of his enthusiasm would rub off on Peter. It did, Peter couldn’t resist a happy attitude and leapt up from the sofa once again to retrieve the final surprise.

“Hey, Mike?”

“Close my eyes?”

“You got it…” He said, grinning playfully. Mike closed his eyes again, suddenly enjoying all the attention that was being thrust upon him. He wasn’t used to it but it was nice. Very nice.

“Hold out your hands.” He held his hands out, palm up and felt a light package placed in them, rustling slightly.

He looked down at the gift, wrapped in left over Christmas paper, then up at Peter who was clearly itching for Mike to unwrap it.

“Peter…you didn’t have to get me nuthin’. You didn’t have any money left, none of us did."

“I didn’t buy it, I made it. I didn’t really know what I was doing so I hope it’s OK…” His nerves began to get the better of him again but Mike’s embarrassed yet flattered smile calmed him somewhat.

Peter liked to make gifts almost as much as he liked to make music. He was most certainly better at the music though, his gifts were more akin to his cooking. Top marks for effort but not usually a great turn out.

But Mike was still very grateful that the thought was there, no matter what oddity lay within the wrapping.

“Gonna open it?” Mike realised he had zoned out again and promptly got to unwrapping the present.

His hands slowed down as it became apparent what it was. There was that blank, unreadable expression again. Peter looked from the gift to Mike, then back to the gift again.

“My grandma sent me the wool for a scarf to keep me warm but I’m used to these temperatures. I…uh, I noticed you’ve been kinda cold lately so I thought you might…like it. If it fits.”

Mike picked up the little green wool hat as if it were made of glass, as if it were the most precious thing he had ever touched. With absolute precision and delicacy, he placed it on his head.

“How does it look?”

Peter smiled at the sight. “I think it suits you.”

Mike smiled back and got up to look at himself in the mirror. It did suit him, it was a perfect fit too. “It’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever given me. Thanks, Pete.”

Peter shrugged, as if to brush it off like it was nothing but inside he was ecstatic that he had been able to give Mike something that meant something to him.

“Hopefully it’ll keep out the cold in winter.”

“Winter, summer…this is a hat for all seasons. I think I’ll just wear it all the time.”

Peter laughed even though Mike seemed absolutely serious.

He was serious. This hat represented everything he loved about Peter.
Wait, what? Love about Peter? LOVE about Peter…

Mike realised he had known for a while now that he loved Peter but this was the first time he had admitted it to himself. But instead of the sickening, panicky feeling he would have expected from such a revelation, there was purely excitement.

The exact same excitement you got when you realise you’re in love.

He was shocked out of his sudden epiphany by a series of loud bangs and shouts, this time coming from outside.

Both Mike and Peter dashed over to the patio to see what all the fuss was about. There were people celebrating on the beach, fireworks going off in various locations, lighting up the night sky.

Peter’s faced changed from a look of bewilderment to amused realisation.

“It’s midnight…it’s New Year! Got so caught up we didn’t even notice…” Peter’s gaze remained on the beautiful displays of fireworks while Mike repositioned himself to lean with his back on the railing, eyes trained on the childlike expression of wonderment that Peter wore.

feelings that he had been trying to shut out only hours previously were now intoxicating as he watched those perfect features intensely. He loved how Peter seemed to enjoy absolutely everything, saw the best in everyone…even him, someone who had always been looked down on or shunned.

And the boy never expected anything in return. All he wanted to do was spread the love, which is why music meant so much to him. It was the purest form of expression for him.

Mike knew that no-one deserved him, least of all him with all his flaws. He would just have to come to terms with the fact that his love would always have to remain a secret.

He realised that he still hadn’t really thanked Peter for all he had done for him. He knew words would not be able to convey how much it all meant to him, how much Peter meant to him, so he chose he different approach.


Peter immediately looked up at Mike, eyes wide and attentive as he continued to lean forward on the railing.

Mike drew himself to his full height and gently pulled Peter up also, so they were facing each other. Without giving himself a chance to back out, Mike ran his hands up Peter’s arms, unknowingly making the younger man tingle all over, then pulled him forward as he leant in to plant a barely-there kiss on his forehead.

When he pulled back, Peter had his eyes closed and was swaying ever so slightly, drunk on the tidal wave of emotions that hit him.

It may have been the smallest of gestures but coming from a man who flinched if you tapped him on the shoulder, it was nothing short of incredible.

He slowly opened his eyes, looking up at Mike through golden lashes and bangs, a slightly glassy quality to those caramel orbs, wide and searching.

“Happy New Year, Peter.” Mike said, simply.

Peter’s surprise was evident on his face but it was minute compared to what Mike felt when Peter leant his head back ever so slightly to touch his lips to the Texan’s in a tender, almost ethereal, kiss.

The moment seemed to last an eternity though the kiss never deepened. Mike thought it was probably the most passionate kiss he had ever experienced which was odd considering its simplicity.

It was all lip, no tongue. Mike could taste the faint flavour of the chocolate chip from the muffin that lingered on Peter’s lips.

As Peter pulled back, it was Mike’s turn to look slightly dazed.

“Happy Birthday, Michael.” Peter whispered, his voice failing him a little from the onslaught of sensations that were washing over him in such a short space of time. Mike merely beamed at Peter before turning his attention back to the fireworks.

Peter stood beside him, shoulder to shoulder, watching the dazzling display. Mike took one last long look at Peter, grasping his hand in his own.

I guess birthday wishes can come true...