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"You Just May Be the One - Part 4"
Title: You Just May Be The One P4
Author: Lily Rose-Petals
Genre/Pairing: Romance/Humor; Mike/Peter
Warnings: Explicit m/m smut
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or settings in this story, I only claim ownership for the words and ideas I've presented.
Summary: A Mike and Peter romance, with Monkee awesomeness from all four.
Author's Note: The title is also the title of the Monkees' song "You Just May Be The One." I thought if fit Peter and Mike very nicely--especially since Mike's singing it. :-)
The next four weeks Peter and Mike filled with clandestine love-making, in between which they played gigs, hung out with Micky and Davy, went clubbing, ate, showered, slept, and watched The Partridge Family.
Mike made sure to make time to tell Peter how he felt, as their first time together was so rushed and intense he had never gotten the chance. Peter told him he loved him too and a fantastic session of love-making proceeded that statement.
Micky and Davy noticed something amiss with Peter and Mike, like how often they were separated— together and alone— from the two of them. But the boys decided to ignore these strange occurrences and hoped they would settle themselves out.
But after a while it became harder and harder to ignore the fact that Peter and Mike were spending more and more time alone together, and being less and less careful about concealing it. (To be fair, Peter and Mike really did try. Their problem was that they were often too eager to be together and therefore more careless about taking precautions.) Micky and Davy really didn't want to ask Peter or Mike about their situation, fearing the truth, but one evening Micky was forced to ask about it because of one very simple act on Mike's part.
It was a Friday evening and the boys were gathered around the television set for the latest episode of The Partridge Family. This show was all four's guilty pleasure; they discussed it with no one but themselves.
About halfway through the episode Mike absently began stroking Peter's hand. He started with the back and then slid under to the palm. This was a habit he had fallen into during the past month, one which he had always reserved for the post-coital haze when he and Peter lay tangled in the sheets. Somewhere along the way he had admitted to Peter that he really liked touching his hands for no other reason than just to feel them, and Peter admittedly loved it.
But now Peter tensed and looked sideways at Mike anxiously, wondering if he realized what he was doing, right in the view of the other two. Micky would have most likely not noticed at all and Mike would have had time to stop if Peter hadn't gotten completely distracted from the show, causing Micky to be distracted and look what was the matter.
What he saw confused him: Peter was desperately although covertly trying to move Mike's hand away, and, as Micky watched, Mike seemed to become aware of what he was doing and quickly withdrew his hand. But it was too late: Several things he had suspected for a long time had clicked to place in Micky's mind while the exchange had happened.
Why was Peter so desperate for Mike to stop? If it was just an accident and they were simply friends, he would have yanked his hand away and smacked Mike on the shoulder. This would have caused much less disturbance than Peter's suddenly nervous demeanor.
But, Micky postulated, what if he was simply uncomfortable with another man fondling his hand, and didn't want the other two to see? What shame was there in covertly trying to slip away? Why did he, as well as Mike, look so guilty, like they'd just shared a big secret?
Micky had to know. He had forgotten about The Partridge Family from the moment he had seen their hands together, and therefore said, before the commercial break,
"Is there something you guys want to tell us?"
Somehow it seemed the most natural question in the world for him to ask, like it had been waiting to be asked for some time now.
"W-what?" Mike stammered, flicking his eyes nervously, knowing Micky had seen. He and Peter weren't paying attention to the program either anymore.
It was at this point that Davy was finally distracted, with an irritable look, from his television, and he looked at the other three.
"Your hands," Micky said quietly. "Your hands." It was the only thing he could think of to say.
"What about them?" Peter asked, looking innocently down at his own.
Micky could not tell if he were feigning or not.
"Your hands, you were...holding hands, just a moment ago. I looked over and you were trying to get him to stop...fondling you, Peter. I saw it."
"So?" Mike said, attempting bravado. "It was an accident. I didn't realize I was doing it."
Well that's believable, thought Micky sarcastically.
"Micky, what are you going on about?" Davy broke in. "We're missing the show. Ah— and look, it's on commercial now." He flopped on the couch huffily.
"Okay, sure, I can believe it was an accident," Micky continued as if he had not heard Davy. "But I want to know."
"Know what?" Peter said quickly.
Micky paused, not quite sure himself. "I want to know how long it's been."
"How long what's been? What are you talking about?" Mike asked.
Micky could tell that Mike was trying to pass him off as the crazy one, but it wasn't going to work.
"I want to know how long you two have been in a relationship."
Davy sat up and looked quizzically at Micky.
"Wait, hang on a second Mick—"
"Davy, don't you see it? It's what we've been talking about, right before our eyes!"
"What's right before our eyes?"
"They were, I don't know, fanangling with their hands or something. Not on purpose, I can believe you on that I guess, but it happened. I know what I saw," he said, almost defensively. "I want the truth from you guys."
Peter and Mike looked panic-stricken, like cornered rabbits. Mike stood abruptly from the couch and Peter followed him. But Micky stood just as quickly.
"No!" he said, suddenly angry. "You are not going to just walk away from this! I've— we've suspected for weeks and we deserve to know! This could affect the whole band!"
"Micky!" Davy said loudly. "Stop! Don't— don't do that to them! Don't make them feel ashamed, like they have to tell us! It shouldn't be like this!"
"What shouldn't be like this? Them telling us that they're— they're gay? Why can't they tell us? We're supposed to be friends, aren't we?"
Peter and Mike had carefully walked around Micky while he addressed Davy and now stood behind the couch.
"Micky—" Mike cut in. He was quelled by a look from him.
"Mike, honestly, I'm not going to hate you. I'm not going to slur you. I'm weirded out, yes," Micky clarified, "but you are my friends. That's important. And if— if you guys are together, like that, I don't want that to be a deal breaker for this band. Or for our friendship."
Micky's anger seemed to have run out. He stood looking at Peter and Mike and they at him. Davy fidgeted on the other side of the couch. No one spoke for a little while.
Then Mike looked at Peter and Peter looked back at him, conflicted and worried.
"We should tell them," Mike said.
"Yeah— yeah, I think they already know," Peter said uncertainly.
"Would you like to do the honors?"
"No— hell no!"
"Okay." Deep breath. He took Peter's hand. "Davy, Micky: Peter and I are together. Romantically. We...are also having sex—" Peter cringed a little, "and we want to stay together, and do more of the same. We want to stay together romantically and as a band. I hope that doesn't cause any trouble."
Mike held his breath for the answer. Micky and Davy looked at each other, and the look was one of Oh shit and Oh yeah, we should've known, at the same time.
"Okay, thank you," Micky said. "Davy..."
And seemingly on cue the two of them marched up the spiral staircase and to the bedroom, closing the door behind themselves.
"Is that a good thing?" queried Peter, and Mike shrugged.
"I just hope it's not a bad thing."
The two sat down on the couch, and it wasn't until almost half of the next show was over that Micky and Davy decided to come down from the bedroom.
Mike quickly flicked the TV off and he and Peter stood. Peter didn't grasp Mike's hand, even though he wanted to, because he was afraid it would offend Micky or Davy.
"It's okay, you guys," Micky said, and smiled. "Calm down. Me and Davy are...fine with it. At least, we're trying to be, it's a bit weird for us, you know. Uncharted territory. But...we don't want to ditch you guys, and we hope you don't want to ditch us either. Because as far as we're concerned, the band can stay together. Just...just let us adjust, okay?" Now Micky seemed to be pleading. "No making out in front of us, or anything, okay?"
"No, Micky, we wouldn't do that," Peter quipped.
"I'm glad you understand," Mike said, still a little tensely.
It was quiet for a moment.
"What happened on The Partridge Family?" Micky asked.
"Oh, Keith was trying to be a good influence on Danny and Laurie and all of them, but went kinda nuts. Nothing major," Peter supplied.
"What kind of nuts?"
"He got obsessive about their good behavior."
"Wait— wait!" Davy said suddenly. "I just have to ask. I— Is it true? Do guys—? Do they do it— do they do it up the butt?" Davy stammered.
Mike could not help but burst out laughing. The look on Davy's face was priceless. Peter didn't quite see what was so funny; he instead stood with a pinched look on his face.
"Oh my god— oh my god!" Mike sputtered, doubled over. "Yes, yes it's true! Everything you hear about gay men is true! Everything! —Okay, that was a bit of an overstatement, but yes, that part is true!"
He stood, trying to catch his breath. Davy looked stricken.
"What?" Mike exclaimed. "It's not that bad! Oh my god, that look on your face!" He began to laugh again.
"But...but...what about poop?" Davy whispered.
Mike took one look at him and started laughing so hard he could barely breathe. He sat on the couch, his sides aching, Davy saying, "What? What? It's a valid question!" and Peter pounding him on the back when he started to choke on his own spit. Peter was chuckling too, remembering the same thing Mike was, but neither one of them would answer Micky or Davy's questions, and never would, about why that question was so funny.
Finally, when everything was calmed down, the four Monkees crowded onto the couch and sat semi-comfortably. Davy sat on the arm of the couch, but as he was the smallest this didn't help much, and Micky was crowded against one arm while Mike, with Peter right next to him, was crowded against the other. Peter tried not to sit too close to Micky, as he knew that would make him uncomfortable.
After a moment Micky brought up one of the gigs they were playing the next day and the four talked somewhat comfortably about that for a while, and once again discussed how they were going to get from one gig to the other on time. Then Davy said,
"Hey, since you guys are together, we should probably get a two-bedroom flat, or do something about the situation here. I don't think Micky and I can take your 'covert' sneaking up to the bedroom anymore."
Peter blushed, and Mike blushed a little too, and they murmured their agreement.
"Well, we could always clear out the downstairs bedroom again... You guys could take it, or whatever you want," Micky suggested. The four looked at each other. The reason Davy and Peter had moved upstairs in the first place the second year the group was living together was so they could have someplace to store their band equipment besides the living room. As inconvenient as four men crammed in one room was, tripping over band equipment in the living room was even more inconvenient.
"Yeah, I don't think that's gonna work," Mike stated casually. The other three seemed to agree, as they relaxed, and soon the four were talking of plans to move into a bigger apartment. (For some reason it did not occur to them to get separate apartments...) All awkwardness was lost in the conversation.
Finally, as the conversation wound down, Davy suggested they all go to bed. Micky got uncomfortable for a second, tried to cover it up, and Mike just looked at Peter and rolled his eyes.
"Guys, we're not going to be staring at you while you get undressed or anything," Mike said.
"Um, if it's all the same, could I...change a little more privately for a while?" Micky asked nervously.
Mike was slightly hurt, as he and Micky used to be roommates when only the two of them lived upstairs, but he also understood. He couldn't expect everything at once; maybe Micky would never feel that comfortable undressing in front of him again, and he realized that was okay with him. He felt somewhat the same way when Peter watched him dress or undress, although it was a considerably more pleasant feeling for him.
"Well, it's all right with me if you guys look," Davy said cheerily. He stood up and bounded for the steps. "I know I'm irresistible." He grinned cheekily at them, and even had the audacity to wink.
Peter just looked at him, thinking him crazy, but Mike's stomach gave a little flip as he thought of Davy undressing. He had always been attracted to Davy's chest; but it mattered not: Davy was only a friend and would always be only a friend. He would never tell Davy about his attraction to his chest because there was no need and it would only complicate things.
Instead Mike smiled. "Thank you, Davy, but I think I will have somebody else to look at from now on."
Peter smiled and ducked his head.
"Your loss," said Davy, and started up the stairs. "You know," he said suddenly, turning toward them seriously. "If you guys have babies I think they'll have Mike's hair. And Peter's nose. That would be a cute baby. Yeah? Hmm," he ended thoughtfully and bounded up the stairs.
"Um...?" Micky said. "He does realize two men can't have babies, right?"
"Uh...no? I don't know? He was joking, wasn't he? Wasn't he?" Mike asked, looking at Peter.
"Well, as the one who usually makes all the stupid remarks around here," Peter said authoritatively, "I don't think he was."
"Oh no..." Micky said, and darted off the couch after Davy.
"We'd better go too, Peter, I don't think Davy can handle the news on his own."
"Good thinking. If I know that two men can't have babies, how much must Davy think they can?"
The two stared at each other for a moment, then flew across the room to the stairs. This was definitely a crisis for the four Monkees to sort out together.