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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.

"Today"

Title: Today
Pairing: Torklenz! What a surprise!
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Just hot men having hot sex. That's all.
Summary: A song from a new album has special meaning for the boys.
Author's Note: This was one of those stories that went from idea to finished reality in a matter of about 2 hours. I can't even take credit for it. Micky and Peter wrote it themselves...with a little help from Jefferson Airplane. ;) The song involved in this story can be heard here, I highly recommend giving it a listen if you've never heard it.


“I need to play my records for you more often,” Peter gasped as Micky practically tore his shirt from his shoulders and pushed him back onto the imitation black leather couch.

Peter smiled, a bit overwhelmed by Micky’s sudden burst of enthusiasm. Minutes earlier they had been sitting on the living room floor, sorting through Peter’s voluminous record collection, and then Micky had come across the copy of Jefferson Airplane’s brand new album, Surrealistic Pillow, that Peter had just purchased last week.

The song “White Rabbit” had really impressed him, but when Peter had played the song titled “Today”, Micky’s expression had changed to shock and recognition.

“Holy shit, Peter,” he had suddenly whispered. “That’s us!”

“Us?” Peter had asked, his brow creasing. The two of them had been smoking some pretty good dope that one of Peter’s friends had picked up during a recent weekend to Mexico and had generously offered to share. It was a bit stronger than the run-of-the-mill stuff they could obtain around here, and Peter had wondered if maybe Micky’s mind was perusing La-La Land right now. His tolerance for reefer had always been quite a bit lower than Peter’s own.

“No, Micky…That’s not us, man. That’s Jefferson Airplane.” Peter had explained carefully, confused.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know that. That’s not what I meant,” Micky had said, his eyes wide as he had continued listened carefully to the song. “Have you ever really listened to the lyrics of this before?”

Peter had tried to think, and had realized that he probably had not. Micky was good at picking up the meaning within a song the first time he listened to it. Peter, being more musically inclined, tended to pay more attention to the bare bones. The bass lines, the chord changes, the timing, those sorts of things.

Micky had moved over to the record player and had gently replaced the needle at the beginning of the song. “Listen,” he had ordered softly as he did so.

Peter had sat Indian-style on the floor, his concentration focused on the words that now came through the speaker.

Today I feel like pleasing you more than before.
Today I know what I want to do, but I don’t know what for.
To be living for you is all I want to do.
To be loving you. It will all be there when my dreams come true.

Slowly, Peter had started to realize what Micky was talking about. The song almost could have been written about them, or more specifically, about the feelings that had been there all along before the two of them had dared to acknowledge them.

Today you make me say that I somehow have changed.
Today you look into my eyes, I’m just not the same.
To be anymore than all I am would be a lie.
I’m so full of love, I could burst apart and start to cry.

Peter had lifted startled eyes to Micky’s face. Micky had sat across from him, as still and silent as Peter had been. His expression had been gentle, contemplative, his eyes shining. He had nodded his head slowly as he noticed that Peter was finally getting it.

Today everything you want I swear, it all will come true.
Today I realize how much I’m in love with you.
With you standing here, I can tell the world what it means to love.
To go on from here, I can’t use words. They don’t say enough.

The music had rose to its crescendo, a pounding climax of sound, sensual and powerful all at the same time, and swirling within it, the final words of the song had come bursting forth.

Please, please, listen to me. It’s taken so long to come true.
And it’s all for you. All for you.

As the last jangling guitar notes had drained away into softly crackling silence, Peter had kept his gaze locked on the man opposite him. “Micky,” he had murmured in a softly awed voice.

That was all it had taken. As if a spring had suddenly popped loose within Micky’s inner workings, he had abruptly launched himself across the small space between them and had almost bowled Peter over in a fierce maelstrom of passionate kisses.

Peter’s head, swimming as it had been from the lingering effects of the pot and the suddenness of Micky’s assault, was in no condition for coherent though. Only reaction could happen. His hands had slipped up the back of Micky’s neck, holding him close as their lips had clashed and slid and clashed again with bruising force. Their tongues had dueled for dominance within the hot confines of their mouths.

They had separated, panting, and Micky had risen to his feet in order to shuck his shirt off over his head. Peter had found his feet as well, looking at his lover with a combination of wariness, anticipation, and desire, wondering when the next wave would strike.

He hadn’t had to wait long.

Now here they were, Peter pinned beneath Micky’s body on the couch, his shirt unceremoniously tossed aside. Micky kissed him again, forcing his tongue deep into Peter’s mouth. His hand slid down Peter’s body, cupping his rapidly growing erection and causing Peter to moan into his mouth as he caressed the bulge with knowledgeable intent.

“God, I fucking want you,” Micky panted, trailing a line of wet kisses and licks down Peter’s bared torso, slipping to his knees down between Peter’s legs. He mouthed Peter’s erection through his pants, the thin fabric becoming damp right away and clinging even more to the hardened flesh beneath.

Peter moaned again, his eyelids fluttering, his hips pushing up almost involuntarily. “Micky, please…” he muttered hoarsely.

Micky licked his cock through the pants, teasingly, his eyes flickering up to regard his writhing lover. “Please what, Pete?”

Peter chewed gently at his bottom lip in his agitation. An unconscious yet unbearably sexy gesture that Micky did not fail to notice. “Come on Peter, tell me what you want, baby.” Micky cajoled, running his parted lips over the bulge again.

Peter whimpered in combined arousal and frustration. “Suck my cock, Micky. Please. I want to feel your lips wrapped around me.”

“Ask and ye shall receive,” Micky said, unfastening Peter’s pants with a flourish and easing them down his hips, letting Peter’s impressive cock spring free from its confines to lie invitingly against the tanned smoothness of his abdomen.

Micky wasted no time in leaning forward and capturing the head of Peter’s cock between his lips, letting his tongue dance over the silky skin of the head, poking into the slit to taste the salty-sweet precum that leaked out.

“Oh god,” Peter sighed, arching, his fingernails digging into the fake leather beneath him. “More, Micky. Please. Take more of it.”

Realizing that Peter couldn’t take much more teasing, Micky got down to business, taking as much of Peter’s length into his mouth as he could without gagging. He sucked greedily, reminding himself again of how delicious Peter tasted and how incredible he felt against his tongue.

Watching Peter’s reactions with uplifted eyes, Micky heard the lyrics to that song circulating through his head again.

I feel like pleasing you more than before.

That is so true, Micky thought, smiling inside as Peter stretched and groaned and trembled gorgeously under Micky’s spell. Every time I’m with him, I want it to be better for him than the last time. He’s beautiful and he deserves to feel as much pleasure as I can offer him. How lucky am I that he chose me to do this for him?

Micky suddenly felt Peter’s cock harden still further in his mouth and knew he was close. His slid his hands up and down the outsides of Peter’s thighs in anticipation, raking the skin oh-so lightly with his fingernails.

Peter’s groans took on a desperate tone; his dazed eyes were desperately trying to focus on Micky as he drew ever nearer to the edge. “Ohhhh…Micky. Yeah. I’m going to come. I’m going to…Oh...Oh!”

His head tilted back and his hips arched up hard as he suddenly exploded into Micky’s waiting mouth. Micky swallowed the offering without hesitation, Peter’s final cry echoing in his ears like the sweetest music.

Micky didn’t even wait for Peter to recover from his orgasm before he was divesting himself of his pants, which were now feeling about five sizes too small due to his own throbbing erection. Quickly he slicked himself up with saliva and guided himself to Peter’s entrance. They had had sex often enough to where penetration was no issue whatsoever, and Micky slid in to the hilt un-impeded.

Peter gasped as he was so abruptly filled. Micky quickly leaned over him, bending Peter almost double in the process. Peter was far from protesting however. He wrapped his arms around Micky’s neck, pulling him down for a heated kiss as Micky’s hips slapped against his ass again and again.

“Oh god,” Peter moaned as Micky’s cock brushed his prostrate. He tightened his grip convulsively around his lover, almost sobbing with pleasure, shaking his hair out of his eyes with a jerk of his head.

Panting, Micky drove even harder, Peter’s heated reactions feeding his own. Peter cried out again, his sweat-slicked body sliding easily over the leather surface beneath him as he was rocked in a delicious rhythm. “Micky…Oh fuck, Micky. Please don’t stop. That feels so fucking good, man.”

Micky was almost delirious with excitement at Peter’s words. He ran his opened mouth up the side of Peter’s neck, murmuring harshly in his ear, “Mmmm…That’s my baby. Love that cock, Peter. Love it. It’s all yours, baby. Just for you. Oh god, Peter. Oh fuck...”

With that, Micky’s own orgasm snuck up and blindsided him. He let out a startled cry as he shot what felt like gallons of come deep inside of Peter’s body. Groaning, he embraced Peter, truly reveling in the intense combination of physical pleasure and emotional closeness.

Finally both of them lay in a sweaty heap on the slippery couch, gasping for breath. Micky lifted his head slowly and trailed his lips over the line of Peter’s jaw before arriving at his mouth for a brief yet sensual kiss.

“You are just incredible, baby,” he purred, his dark eyes shining. “I love you, Peter.”

Peter smiled lazily, stroking Micky’s back gently. “I love you too, Mick.” Then he paused and glanced over to where the record player stood temporarily forgotten, and his smile widened. “Now I’m interested in seeing what other records I own that might get me more action like that.”

Micky laughed breathlessly. “Like I really need music to prompt me to jump your bones? No, you do that by just being you, Pete.”

And as their lips met in another kiss, the song once again danced through Micky’s mind.

To be living for you is all I want to do.