"So, Cheryl...."

Micky cleared his throat again and cautiously surveyed his new surroundings. The club was a sea of raging hormones. Music pumped round the speakers making it virtually impossible for Micky to hear himself think. Why had he agreed to this? He would have much preferred to be at home with Mike.

"Yeah," she replied, sipping at her drink.

Davy sure knew how to pick 'em. He was already out on the dance floor with Barbara. They were slowly moving together, letting the rhythm of the music carry them away. Davy was a frequent visitor to this club, usually with some girl attached to his side, and tonight, Barbara was his conquest. He had met her yesterday at the beach and instantly claimed her for himself. However, she came with excess baggage - her cousin Cheryl. That's where Micky came in. Davy gave a small nudge Micky's way and then left him alone.

"I was um...wondering...where you were from?"

"Chicago."

"Cool, I've never been there." Micky feigned interest, but he was bored. He wanted to go home. Maybe he could fake sick? No, Davy wouldn't believe him.

"Can we dance?" asked Cheryl. She was a sweet girl, attractive in a simplistic way. With her long blonde hair and green shining eyes, she was the perfect match for Micky. The dress she was wearing clung tightly to her small frame, as she swayed gently to the music. Micky found her attractive and if his thoughts weren't somewhere else, he would have been enjoying her company. As she rested her head on his shoulder, Micky felt awash with guilt. This wasn't her fault. How could he explain without upsetting anyone?

Mike had found himself at his favorite bar. It was a comfort to him once again. How he remembered those first months when he moved here from Texas. All alone, not a friend in the world, but he found solitude here. He smiled as he gazed around the familiar setting he always found himself coming back to.

"Mike," a voice called, as a friendly face appeared through the crowd.

"John. Hiya buddy," said Mike, giving the guy a warm hug.

John was the first person that had spoken to Mike. He was one of his closest friends, though it was months since they had spoken. John was a likeable guy, always good for a laugh and the occasional blowjob if they got too drunk. Which, as Mike remembered, had happened more than once. He was the complete opposite to Mike in build and character. Whereas Mike was lean; John was stocky or "cuddly" as he preferred to call it. He was a little older than Mike, probably early thirties. He had even been married before he came out. Slow to anger, quick to forgive. Mike wished he could be more like him.

"So, what brings you back here?" asked John, setting down a beer in front of Mike and then taking a seat.

"Just came back to see the fellas, ya know. I felt I'd kinda rejected the place."

"Don't lie to me Mike. Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"No, nothing like that. I just needed a break away from the pad."

"Things not going so well with the music?"

"No, no the music's fine. I have a complete line-up now. You remember Peter don'tcha?"

"Yeah sure, good kid, nice ass. Has he ever thought about...."

"No, but I assure you, you'll be the first informed," Mike chuckled, with a wicked glint in his eye.

"So, who else have you got in the band, then?"

"Oh, an English guy, Davy. Man, he is such a prick. Good voice, bad personality."

"But he's not the problem, is he?" John knew Mike too well. He knew he wouldn't be this wounded over someone like Davy.

"No," answered Mike, his voice reduced to nothing but a whisper. He was almost afraid to say his name; he drew in a deep breath.

"It's Micky."

"Micky…oh no, not another cute one, Mike?"

'Cute is an understatement,' thought Mike. He paused as his thoughts hazed to Micky. He wondered what he was doing now. Was he missing him? Was he feeling as miserable as he was? Mike secretly hoped both were true.

"Mike...are you listening to me?"

"Sorry John. What did you say?"

"It's not important. I guess we've found the source of your problems."

Mike simply nodded in agreement.

"So are you gonna tell me about it or not?"

"Please, Micky! I love this song."

Cheryl was drunk. She had wanted to dance non-stop since they got there. Davy and Barbara had positioned themselves in the corner booth. Both were unaware of anything else around them. Micky noticed that Davy's hand was up Barbara's skirt for the most of this time, and judging by the gasping moans escaping from her mouth, she wasn't in any hurry to leave their cozy nest.

"Ok, ok."

'Anything to be spared anymore of this.' Micky slowly walked towards Cheryl, and she took his hand and pulled him up close to her. The alcohol surging through her veins had sparked new life in her. She pushed her body up tight to Micky and ran her fingers through his hair. She brought him close for a teasing brush against his lips with her own, running her fingers over his chest. As their hips swayed together rhythmically, Micky began to feel slightly turned on. Cheryl noted this with a sly grin. She pulled him close for another kiss, this time rolling her tongue around his mouth, sucking slowly on his cheek.

"Come on, let's get out of here," she breathed in his ear.

Davy saw them heading for their coats and quickly retracted his hand from under Barbara's skirt. It had turned him on watching the brief floorshow put on by Micky and Cheryl. 'Atta boy,' he thought, as he and Barbara followed them out of the club and back to the pad.

Back at the tavern, Mike quickly updated John on the problem. He hadn't wanted to tell him everything but he was the sounding board that Mike was looking for. He felt a tremendous weight fall from his shoulders. It was good to tell someone how he really felt at last.

"Phew! And now this guy is out on a date with a girl?"

"Hmm...Davy, that little bastard. I knew he would get to him."

"So, what happens now?"

Mike shrugged. "That's the whole problem, John, I just don't know. Micky is so afraid of what other people will think of him. I think he's forgotten how this affects me."

"And yet, you say he's worth it?"

"I used to think so," said Mike solemnly, "but now I just don't know."

"Man, this boy has fucked your head up good and proper ain't he?"

"Yeah…." Was all Mike could respond with as he gazed around the bar. Some familiar faces stared back, others he barely knew.

"What you need is a good lay."

"Is that your answer to everything?" said Mike, his face breaking into a smile.

"Yeah! If it's gonna pick you up. You could wait for Micky forever and how d'ya know that he isn't screwing that little tramp right now?"

Mike's anger returned to the surface. John was speaking some truth. Maybe Micky hadn't wanted to go on that date, but he'd still gone. Mike finished his drink and stood up.

"Goin' already?"

"Uh-huh….see ya around John."

Mike left the bar and stepped out in the dark street. The wind had picked up causing him to shiver slightly. He pulled his coat around him. Still angry at Micky and himself, his head was a mess of thoughts. 'What happened to putting him out of your mind?' Maybe John was right, he did need a good lay. He began his descent down the slight incline towards the beach. He was suddenly aware of someone behind him. He turned round to be confronted by young man.

"Hey," said the stranger.

"What d'ya want?" answered Mike gruffly.

"Nothin' much. I was wonderin' if you had a cigarette?" The young lad seemed polite.

'Good looking too,' thought Mike. His blonde hair was longish and cut ragged across his face. His eyes, cool blue. His body, lean and trim. He was wearing jeans and a black t-shirt that clung tightly across his chest.

"Sorry pal, I don't smoke."

"Neither do I," he breathed flirtatiously. "That was just a line to talk to you. Not very good was it?"

"It worked, didn't it?" Mike smiled back.

This was more like him. He enjoyed that thrill of meeting someone new, someone interesting. Since being involved with Micky, he had missed that.

"I guess....I'm Rich, by the way." The boy held his hand out nervously. Mike shook it.

"Mike...." he replied.

They both stood together on the sidewalk, neither saying anything for a moment. Mike couldn't believe his luck. This boy was just the tonic he was looking for. A little pick-me-up to prove there was still some life in him, some of the old Mike Nesmith. A slight guilt panged Mike's chest...Micky. He quickly forced him from his mind. If Micky was having fun why shouldn't he?

"Shall we walk?" suggested Rich, though he wasn't really sure where.

"S'pose."

They began to walk towards the beach through the desolate streets. Mike was keen to know more about his new prey.

"So, Rich, why were you following me?"

"I just saw you leave the bar and thought you looked cute," came the reply. "Sorry, was that your boyfriend I saw you talkin' to?"

Mike laughed "No, just a friend...."

"I wasn't sure how to approach you before."

"That's ok. I haven't seen ya down there before, though. Are you new to this game?"

Mike knew this was possible. Most first-timers went to the tavern. It was friendly and welcoming, and for some reason people seemed at ease there.

"No...well kinda. I've been coming to the bar the last few weeks since my boyfriend and I broke up. I've never seen you there."

"Nah...I've kinda been out of touch with the place," Mike stopped at a bench. "Shall we sit down?"

"Sure…Why's that, then?"

"No reason," Mike lied. "Glad I came down tonight, though."

Mike lifted his hand to Rich's face. 'He could do with a shave,' he thought. Not smooth like Micky. There was that name again, 'Forget him, remember?' He brought Rich's face up close to his before kissing his lips softly. Rich kissed him back, pressing his tongue against Mike's. He moved his arm across Mike's back gripping him with a certain roughness which made Mike moan out in pleasure.

Rich kissed him again, his mouth more forceful this time. He moved his hand down to Mike's crotch and began to undo his pants. The bench seemed secluded enough and no one would be about at this time, anyway. Rich slipped his hand inside and felt the warmth beneath his fingers. He gently began to stroke Mike's rapidly hardening cock, as he continued to kiss his mouth.

Mike closed his eyes as Rich proceeded with his task. As much as he was enjoying the hand job, he couldn't keep his thoughts from Micky. After all, he was betraying his trust. Mike had never cheated on anyone before and now he here was doing just that. However, Rich was making a good attempt at distracting him. He silenced Mike's moan, as he came, with another kiss. Mike instantly forgot his problems. He opened his eyes and stared back at the stranger next to him, the guilt returning to his face.

"What's up?" asked Rich. "Was that not good?"

"No...no...it was fine, better than fine...it's just things are kinda complicated right now for me."

"Are you married or something?"

"No...nothing like that. It's just I have some things to sort out. I'm sorry." Mike got up to leave.

"Can I see you again?"

"Sure," he said without thinking. Mike turned and hurried back to the pad.