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"Words"

Title: Words
Author: Mini
Rating: R/NC-17
Pairing: Peter Tork/Micky Dolenz
Genre: Smut. Slash. Silliness.
Warnings: Contains adult content, strong language, and sexual relations between members of the same sex. If any of that isn't your bag, don't read this.
Disclaimer: Not real, never happened, completely, 100% false. I make no claims to the sexual proclivities of the real Peter Tork or Micky Dolenz, and I own nothing and no one in this fic. So don't sue me, cause I'm a broke grad student and would have to pay you in tiny little packets of Chinese mustard.
Summary: It's Micky's first time. Hotness, hilarity, and entirely too much talking ensues.
Author's Note: I was thinking about this scenario one day, and their dialogue came right into my head, in their voices, so I had to start writing. This is the end result.


"Wait, so you said this is supposed to feel really good, right?"

"Yeah, man. You've seen how I get when you do it."

Peter rocked his hips forward in a slow, languid motion.

"But you're a little, uh...bigger than me and I think I won't be able to sit right for a week, Pete."

"Don't call me that."

He nudged his cock slightly against the puckered opening. Micky gasped.

"Well, I'm nervous. Christ, what can I tell you? It's my first time. Never thought I'd be hearing myself say that again, but there you have it."

A knowing half-smile turned up the corner of the blond's mouth.

"Here."

The bed shifted slightly as Peter moved backwards, reaching for the still-lit joint resting in the ashtray. He brought it to his lips with one hand, the other lightly caressing the slim drummer leg propped on his left shoulder, and took a long drag, grinning hazily as the sweetly perfumed smoke filled his lungs. Peter lowered himself onto Micky, the colorful beads around his neck ghosting over Micky's bare chest, making the younger man shiver. Peter held Micky's gaze as he spoke, his voice low and desirous:

"This will relax you."

Peter drew an arm around Micky's head, pulling him close and crashing their lips together. The curly-haired man moaned, and the opening gave Peter the perfect opportunity; slowly, he exhaled, breathing the smoke into Micky's mouth.

The kiss went on for what seemed like forever as Micky licked and nibbled at every corner of his lover's mouth, enjoying the combined taste of weed and Peter.

"Mmmh," Micky purred as Peter pulled away, looking up at him through lowered, coquettish eyes.

"Better?" Peter asked, placing the joint back safely in the ashtray as he readjusted Micky's left leg on his other shoulder.

"Uh huh. No--wait. I think so. Yeah. I feel better. I'm ready. Let's do it. You do me, I mean."

The words were still fast-paced, in true Micky style, but Peter could tell the edginess he'd shown earlier had well worn off.

"Good."

Again he breached the tight ring of muscle, breathing deeply as the head slipped through with a barely audible pop.

"Fuck..." Peter hissed.

Waves of pleasure began to reverberate through his crotch to the rest of his body, spider-webbing their way up his back, and he shuddered, eyes squeezing shut as he tried to retain some semblance of self-control long enough for this to be good.

"Is it--oh, god--are you okay, Peter?" Micky's voice had gone up an octave in alarm.

"Ohh...I'm more than okay, Mick."

With that, he pushed in further, letting out a long breath as his cock filled the rest of Micky's tight ass, right to the hilt. Both men groaned loudly, Peter's fingers digging into the drummer's hips as he held him steady.

"It hurts, man. I seriously don't think my ass has ever hurt this much before in my life, except for the hernia exam when I got drafted and this one time during a Circus Boy tour when I sat on Bimbo and--UNGH!"

Micky's eyes rolled up in his head.

"Thought that would get your attention." Peter tried to make his grin a not entirely shit-eating one.

"What the fuck was that?"

"That...is the reason why this feels so good when you do it to me," Peter's voice roughened as he began a steady rhythm. He looked down through his sweat-dampened bangs to the place where their bodies met, watching as his cock slid in and out of Micky.

"You have no idea how sexy you look right now, Micky. Taking all of my cock. Ungh, you feel so fucking good..."

Peter's words only served to spur Micky on further, and he lifted his hips on the next stroke, meeting Peter's movements, then again, and again, and again...

"Oh, god, fuck me. Yeah. Harder. Just a little more, oh that's it! Yesss yesyesyes," Micky whined, writhing on the bed as Peter picked up the pace of his thrusts.

The bassist was rapidly losing control as he pounded in and out of Micky, chest gleaming with a thin sheen of sweat, and nothing but unintelligible grunts of pleasure escaping his lips over and over.

"Hey...Peter?"

"Wh--what, Mick?" Peter panted.

"Why do they, ungh--call it a prostate?"

"What?" The blond's eyes flew open, the word coming out as a bewildered laugh.

"Is it 'cause you have to be a pro at--ohhfuck--knowing how one works?"

Peter continued thrusting in and out, only slowing down slightly as he tried to process what Micky was asking.

"--in several different states?" Micky finished, gazing up at Peter with almost childlike curiosity.

"Micky, man--you--" Peter tried to speak but failed, his head tilting back as a fit of giggles worked its way up and out of his throat. "It's not pronounced pro-state. It's prostate."

"Huh? Oh. But I thought--ohh. I guess that does make more sense. But if it was pro-state, would that mean there's a con-state? Like something bad that happens if you use it too much? Or it only happens if you're a con, but how much sex could they be--Mmmffhh!"

Micky's rambling was cut off by Peter's lips, now pressed hard against his, and a tongue sliding deeply into his mouth, dizzying him with pleasure. Peter thrust a hand into Micky's hair, grabbing a fistful of curls to hold Micky in place.

They pulled apart moments later, chests heaving as both men gasped for breath.

Peter's vision was the first to come back into focus and he leaned back, looking down at his lover.

"Sorry, Mick. You were kinda killing the mood there." He smiled sheepishly, lovingly stroking the side of Micky's face.

"It's okay, man. In fact, I don't really mind, if that's your way of shutting me up." Micky tilted his head, sucking the tip of Peter's thumb between his lips.

"Mmmh. Minx," Peter grinned, circling his hips to stimulate all of the tight heat surrounding him, gasping as Micky bit down hard.

"Keep going," the drummer urgently moaned, arching his back.

Peter was all too happy to oblige, thrusting in deep and hitting that magic spot inside all at once. He reached down to wrap a hand around Micky's erection, and the younger man gasped, his dick twitching in Peter's hand as the blond began to jerk him off.

"Christ...Peter..." Micky's eyelids fluttered as Peter cupped his testicles, rolling them between his fingers. Peter grinned, keeping his gaze trained on Micky's face, enjoying the other man's reaction to his ministrations.

"Fuck...fuck..." Peter felt the familiar tightening in his balls and knew the end was near. Micky whimpered with loss as Peter's hand drifted away from his erection back to his hips, raising them even further, until his lower half was completely off the bed. Peter pulled out slowly, leaving just the tip of his cock sheathed.

Micky glanced up quizzically at the bassist, who was smiling that irritating, dimpled smile at him, and opened his mouth to speak. But Peter was faster, slamming his cock back into Micky's ass with one thrust, effectively driving the words out of Micky's throat as a scream of ecstasy.

The angle was perfect, allowing Peter to hit Micky's prostate on every thrust, reducing the curly-haired man to a mess of incoherent sobs. He flicked his thumb over the slit of Micky's cock, reveling in the strangled moan he got in response. Deciding to finally show some mercy, he resumed his firm grip on the pulsating flesh before him, stroking Micky furiously.

"Come on, baby...come for me..." Peter repeated, almost like a chant, and Micky was lost, crying out Peter's name as his orgasm ripped through him, from hair follicles to toenails.

"Fuckfuckfuck ungghhh yesyesyesYES!" Micky wailed, shooting jet after jet of hot cum all over his stomach and Peter.

"You hot little slut," Peter growled, knowing his own climax was inches away. Beads of sweat trickled down the back of his neck and chest as he ruthlessly pounded into Micky, shaking his bangs to the side with a toss of the head, even as they too grew damp with sweat. Peter wound an arm around Micky's back, yanking him upright, wrapping his legs around his waist.

He stared into Micky's glazed eyes, now hazy with pleasure, and brought two cum-covered fingers to his lips.

"Have a taste," Peter ordered, and Micky obeyed, sucking them into his mouth and tasting the salty-sweetness of his own fluids.

At the same time, he looked up at Peter from under long eyelashes, and with an almost imperceptible glint of wickedness, clenched his muscles around Peter's cock.

"FUCK!" Peter howled as he came, thrusting once, twice more, spending himself completely into that gloriously tight channel.

"Ohhh..." Peter sighed, pitching forward onto the bed in exhaustion. He grinned at the muffled protests from a naked Micky squirming under him, finally rolling off of the younger man a moment later.

"Sheesh, Pete...what were you trying to do, crush me?" Micky pouted, sitting up on his elbows.

"Sorry, Mick," Peter chuckled, wrapping a hand around the back of Micky's head and pulling him in for a kiss.

Micky sighed, melting into Peter's arms as the kiss deepened, snuggling up close to the older man's side.

"That...was incredible. I mean, really, Peter. I haven't felt that groovy in a long time," Micky murmured as they pulled apart.

"Glad you enjoyed yourself. There's plenty more where that came from, believe me," Peter stretched contentedly, turning on his side to gaze at the lithe body next to him. He reached one hand behind his head into the ashtray again, easily finding the joint without even looking.

"Yeah. And so I was thinking, maybe next time we could try it in the shower, or I could do you first and then you do me, or we could do it in your swimming pool, cause I always wanted to try this thing with the diving board where..."

Peter propped his head up with one hand and took a long hit from the joint. He smiled blissfully and listened, reveling in the sound of Micky's endearing, endless words.