Part VI
by mickchick
The door opened quietly and Mike watched in the silent darkness as Micky stripped down to his tight cotton briefs and crawled into the next bed. His obsession frightened him. From almost the first moment he’d met Micky, Mike had been attracted to him. He’d seemed to possess all of the qualities that Mike admired; indeed, the qualities that Mike wished he himself possessed. His enthusiasm for life, his easy smile and infectious laughter, his endless energy contrasted sharply with Mike’s brooding, serious nature and Mike was drawn in like a moth to a flame. To Mike’s surprise and delight, the fascination had been mutual. Micky had found Mike’s stability and intensity appealing, and the two had become fast friends.
Mike tried to lie still, but he couldn’t sleep. His entire body ached with longing. He looked over at the lump in the next bed, whose only distinguishing characteristic was the mop of dark curls that peeked from the top of the blankets, and knew this couldn't go on. He needed Micky, and he was more than willing to accept whatever terms he demanded just to be near him again. He threw back the bedcovers and got up.
“Mick?”
Oh shit! Mike was awake. Maybe if he just kept quiet and pretended to be asleep…
Mike leaned over the bed and lightly rubbed Micky’s back. “Micky?”
Go away.
Mike sat on the edge of the bed and shook him. “C’mon, Mick. I know you’re not asleep. I just wanna talk to you for a minute.”
Micky rolled over and looked up at Mike with a small frown. “Can it wait ‘til tomorrow? I’m really…”
“Sssshhhh.” Mike bent down and covered his lips with a gentle kiss.
God, he’d missed that mouth. As much as Micky had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t let this happen, he felt his resolve weakening.
Mike pulled away and looked down at him. Micky opened his eyes - and remembered.
“I mean it, Mike. I’m really mmmnnph….”
The rest of his sentence was lost as Mike kissed him again, more intensely this time. Why did it have to feel so good? He couldn’t think straight with Mike’s lips on his. He needed room. He could still feel the warmth and weight of Mike’s upper body on his chest even after the kiss ended.
“Now, will you please be quiet for a minute and listen to me?”
Micky stared up at him in silence.
“Good.” Mike sat back slightly to give Micky some space. Watching closely for his reaction, Mike almost whispered, “I promise … I’ll never ask you to do anything you don’t want to again, Mick. Never. You got that?”
Micky understood, but he couldn’t answer. Something in Mike’s voice was making him crazy. He was using that slow, soothing drawl that he seemed to save just for such intimate times, and it flowed around Micky, caressing his body like a piece of fine silk. That voice was full of desire, and Micky could tell Mike wanted him badly. His eyes traveled down Mike’s body, seeking the ultimate evidence of his need. He wasn’t disappointed. The bulge in Mike’s pajama bottoms was enormous and Micky felt satisfied. He looked up at Mike with a small, seductive smile.
Mike would have been powerless to resist that invitation even if he’d wanted to. He pulled the covers from Micky’s body and looked down at him hungrily. Placing his hands firmly on either side of Micky’s waist, he buried his face in the soft flesh of his flat little stomach.
His hot breath made Micky tingle and he moaned softly as Mike worked his way down between his legs. What the hell? It was just a stupid blow job. What could it hurt? Micky cried out as he came, and Mike clapped a firm hand over Micky’s mouth so he wouldn’t wake the others.
He hadn’t meant to make so much noise, and the realization of how loud he’d been made him laugh. As Mike knelt straight up over him, Micky reached both hands up to pull Mike’s pajama bottoms down. He was still giggling at his own reaction as he reached between Mike’s legs and took the throbbing cock into his warm hands. Stifling a moan, Mike exploded almost immediately onto Micky’s bare chest, sending Micky into another fit of laughter. Mike must have been pretty hot to come that fast and that hard.
Completely spent, Mike collapsed weakly onto the bed and pulled Micky close, kissing whatever parts of his head and shoulders that his lips could make contact with. When Micky’s giddiness finally subsided, they fell asleep in each other’s arms and Mike slept more soundly than he had in weeks.
He woke in the morning and realized with a start that he was alone in Micky’s bed. Mike looked over at his own bed and a small smile crept across his face. Sometime during the night, Micky had gotten up and moved to Mike’s bed to sleep. Typical. But it really didn’t matter anymore. Mike was so happy to have Micky back, that he was sure nothing Micky did – or didn’t do – would ever bother him again. And then the sound of Davy’s voice floated up to him from the main floor. Except that.
~~~~~
Mike drove with the top down and the hot midday sun had an almost therapeutic effect on his tense muscles. He was tired, and as the warm wind washed over and around him, he began to relax for the first time in weeks. He hadn’t realized how exhausting it would be to keep Micky and Davy apart, especially without causing one or both of them to suspect what he was doing. There were times when he wondered if it was worth all the effort, but when he thought of Davy touching Micky, kissing him, letting him ---NO! No matter what it took, he couldn’t let that happen! He tried to force the idea from his mind. There was no sense obsessing about it now. Davy and Peter were spending the day horseback riding and Micky was safe at home, alone.
Micky couldn’t believe his luck at having the house to himself for the afternoon. Was it his imagination, or did Mike seem to be glued to his side lately? It wasn’t that he minded spending time with Mike, but for crying out loud, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been anywhere without him! He took an apple from the kitchen counter, polished it haphazardly on the front of his T-shirt, and took a bite. This was almost too good to be true. He grabbed his book from the coffee table and stretched out on the floor to read.
Davy found him there nearly a half-hour later. He was sprawled on his stomach on the floor, reading so intently that he didn’t hear Davy come in. Davy paused behind him for a minute and smiled at the view.
Micky’s head was in his hands, propped up by his elbows. The angle of his body gave his back an alluring arch, and the muscles in his butt were contracted slightly, giving it just a bit of roundness and making it even more delicious-looking than usual. For a brief moment, Davy’s eyes sparkled with mischief, and then he suddenly dove on top of Micky, playfully sinking his teeth into one of the firm little cheeks.
“OW!” Micky yelled and spun around to find Davy smiling down at him impishly.
“Sorry,” Davy said with a laugh, “but you looked good enough to eat.”
He should have been angry, but the look on Davy’s face made him laugh. “You’re such an asshole!”
“Yeah, but I look good.”
Davy was right. He did look good. Micky felt a little guilty for thinking what he was thinking just then. Wanting a quick, playful, commitment-free roll in the hay with Davy seemed disloyal to Mike, and Micky quickly pushed the thought out of his mind.
“Where’s the masta’?”
Micky didn’t understand Davy’s attempt at a deep Southern accent at first, but as he realized what Davy had said, he looked puzzled. “You mean Mike?”
Davy frowned at him. “Yeah, I mean Mike! Doesn’t he usually keep you on a pretty short leash?”
Micky started to argue with him, but he couldn’t think of a defense. He knew Davy was right. He sat up crossed-leg on the floor, closed his book and looked at Davy with a small, resigned smile.
“I knew it,” Davy exclaimed. “He’s driving you crazy, isn’t he? Why don’t you do something about it?”
Micky shrugged. “Like what?”
Davy thought for a moment, then smiled again with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Stop being so fucking irresistible.”
~~~~~
The plan had seemed foolproof when he and Davy discussed it, but with Davy no longer at his side spurring him on, Micky began to have doubts about whether or not he could actually carry it through. He tried hard to control his nervousness, forcing himself to stop fidgeting as soon as he realized he was doing it. A quick peak into the living room told him the time was right. Mike was completely relaxed, sitting on the floor with his back against the sofa and softly strumming his acoustic guitar. Davy had promised to keep Peter away all evening so Micky and Mike could be alone. This was it. Micky took a deep breath and plunged in.
Mike barely looked up as Micky slipped onto the sofa behind him. He continued to play as Micky sat down, settled one long leg on either side of him and leaned forward, placing a gentle hand on each of Mike’s shoulders. His concentration began to slip as Micky caressed his neck and slid his hands forward, finally allowing his arms to drape across Mike’s chest.
This was interesting. Micky had never initiated contact before. Mike wanted to see how far he would take this, so he tried hard to stifle any reaction, despite the persistent, rhythmic twitching in his cock. Micky’s hot breath on the side of his face and neck brought out goose bumps on the skin of his arms, and he fought the urge to turn his head and kiss that teasing mouth. He forgot how to play as Micky’s teeth nibbled softly on the edges of his ear and he finally forgot entirely about his guitar as Micky grasped it firmly at the neck and removed it from Mike’s hands.
Mike turned and rose to his knees, simultaneously attempting to push Micky down on the sofa. To his surprise, Micky resisted. Mike backed off slightly and gave Micky a puzzled look.
“What’s wrong, babe?”
“Nothin’,” Micky responded, making sure his body was above Mike’s. “I just wanna be on top this time.”
It wasn’t an unreasonable request and Mike wasn’t sure exactly what it was about it that made him uncomfortable. No matter. It wasn’t that big of a deal. If it made Micky happy, then Mike was willing to go along.
The rest of Micky’s ideas weren’t quite so easy to go along with. He was acting strangely, even for Micky. There was simply no pleasing him, and whenever Mike didn’t comply with one of his bizarre requests, Micky turned away with a bored expression on his face. Mike found himself losing his patience to the point where he thought there was nothing he’d enjoy quite so much as holding Micky down and giving his small ass a hard spanking. Unfortunately, that was out of the question.
Now Micky wanted to fuck him. He’d never expressed a desire to do that before, and that had been fine with Mike. He much preferred playing the male role in their relationship.
At first, Micky insisted that Mike lie on his back and bend his legs up. That was the way he did it the first time with Davy and it seemed like a good way to start. The trouble was, Mike’s legs were a lot longer than Davy’s and Mike wasn’t quite as flexible. After a couple of unsuccessful starts, Micky gave up and told Mike to turn over.
So far, the plan seemed to be working. Micky could tell Mike was getting more annoyed by the minute. Mike was used to being the one in control and, just as Davy had predicted, he wasn't tolerating the current situation well at all. He grumbled an obscenity as he turned over onto his stomach.
Micky made another clumsy attempt to enter him and Mike’s muscles involuntarily contracted. Micky sat back on his heels and heaved a loud, exasperated sigh. “You’re just not trying,” he accused angrily.
“Yeah, well, maybe if you knew what you were doing…,” Mike hissed.
Uh oh. Micky’s courage was beginning to slip. He stiffened his spine and prepared to take charge. He gave Mike’s ass a hard slap to show him he meant business.
“What the … MICKY!”
Micky froze in place, his eyes wide with alarm, certain that Mike was going to get up any second now and beat the hell out of him. Instead, Mike took a deep, calming breath, pressed his lips together tightly, and lay back down on the couch.
This time, Micky was successful. He eased himself in slowly, so fearful of possibly hurting Mike that he began to lose his erection. It was obvious Mike wasn’t enjoying this and Micky didn’t know how much more of this he could take. In desperation, he closed his eyes, scrunched up his face and gave a single, solid thrust.
“Unh!”
Micky froze again when he heard Mike grunt. “You okay,” he asked, genuinely afraid he’d caused some damage.
“Yes, Micky, I’m fine.”
His voice didn’t sound like he was fine. He sounded furious and Micky was suddenly very tired of this game. He pulled out and sat back on his heels again. Neither one of them moved or spoke for quite a while.
Finally, Mike twisted his body to the side and looked back at Micky. “Come over here, Mick,” he said, gesturing for Micky to lie down in the space next to him.
Mike didn’t sound angry anymore and Micky trustingly complied. Mike wrapped his arms around him, pulled him close, and waited for him to get settled.
“Now,” he said quietly, “you wanna tell me what this was all about?”
Micky was too embarrassed to look at him. The whole idea suddenly seemed so preposterous that he wondered how they’d thought of it in the first place. He looked down, hesitated and finally shook his head.
No? Mike laughed. “Yeah, buddy, I think you do.” It was no longer a request; it was a command.
Micky swallowed nervously. It would serve him right if Mike never spoke to him again. He almost whispered his response. “I wanted you not to like me so much.”
“What?” Mike wasn’t sure he’d heard right.
Oh, man, don’t make me repeat it, Micky thought.
“Did you just say you wanted me not to like you so much?”
Micky nodded.
Mike rested his head back on the small sofa pillows and slowly brushed his lips back and forth across Micky’s soft curls. So, that was it.
“Why didn’t you say somethin’, Mick?”
“I don’t know, Mike. I mean, I should’ve … I guess. I just didn’t know how.”
Mike understood. He didn’t know why, but Micky had always seemed a little nervous, maybe even a little scared around him. He’d never meant to intimidate Micky; he’d only wanted to take care of him. Instead, he’d succeeded in making Micky want to escape, probably into someone else's arms.
Mike was almost afraid to hear the answer, but he had to know. “Is it Davy?”
Micky turned his face toward Mike’s and looked up at him in surprise. What in the world had given Mike an idea like that?
“Well?”
A small laugh escaped from Micky before he remembered that Mike was deadly serious. He pulled away and sat up. “You’re scarin’ me, Mike.”
Mike pulled himself up and sat next to Micky. “What do you mean I’m scaring you? I asked you a simple question.”
Micky shifted his body to face Mike’s. “No, it’s not Davy! It’s a thousand other people I haven’t even met yet. It’s some girl out there that I’m gonna marry someday. It’s being able to do what I wanna do without you standin’ over me every fucking minute!”
His words cut into Mike like a knife. Seeing the pain on Mike’s face made Micky instantly regret saying them.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean that, Mike.”
“Yeah … well, … I’m sorry too, Mick.”
Mike reached for his clothes as he spoke and began dressing. Micky watched him in silence. He finally stood up and pulled his own jeans on, just in case he needed to be dressed.
When Mike grabbed his denim jacket and walked toward the front door, Micky panicked. He knew that if Mike left now, they might never repair their damaged friendship. He rushed to block Mike’s path, planting himself firmly between Mike and the door.
“Where you goin’?”
“I’m givin’ you space, Mick. That’s what you want, ain’t it?”
“No! Well, … yeah, but … no, not right now.”
Mike responded with a small, annoyed laugh – more of a snort, really. “C’mon, Micky. Quit playin’ games and get outta my way.”
He tried to brush Micky aside with the back of his arm, but Micky held his ground. A little surprised, Mike almost smiled. He had to hand it to Micky; the guy could be pretty stubborn when he wanted to be.
“Don’t make me hurt you, Mick. Get outta my way - now!”
“No.”
This was too much. The guy obviously had a death wish. Completely exasperated, Mike grew even more irritable.
“Micky, do you have any fucking clue what you’re doing’?!”
Micky stared up at him, fighting the urge to back down. He knew he was no match for Mike physically, but he couldn’t believe that Mike would deliberately hurt him.
“I think so,” Micky said. “I’m tryin’ to keep my best friend from hating me forever.”
Mike sighed and his posture softened noticeably. “C’mon, Micky. You know I don’t hate you. Besides, that’s not what I meant.”
“I know it’s not what you meant,” he admitted. “I guess I don’t know what I’m doin’.” Micky relaxed his stance a little too, reasonably certain now that Mike wouldn’t try to push his way past him again. “I’m confused,” he said, lowering his eyes to the floor. When he looked up again, his eyes pleaded with Mike to understand what he had trouble putting into words.
“I love bein’ with you, Mike! You … you’re my best friend in the whole world. But we both know this stuff,” he said, waving his hand in the direction of the sofa, “can’t last forever.”
Mike glanced back at the sofa as if something was going on there at that very moment. For some odd reason, he kept remembering the butterflies he used to trap in jars when he was a child and how disappointed he always was when they inevitably died. It was always so much work to capture another.
His eyes widened slightly and he drew a truncated breath and stood perfectly still. Suddenly, as if by revelation, everything was clear. Micky wanted freedom because freedom didn’t frighten him. Unlike Mike, he’d never had to worry about being alone. But, Mike didn’t make friends, or find lovers, as easily as Micky did. It was always a difficult process for him to find someone he cared for, respected and desired. It was even harder to find someone who understood and desired him. Holding on to Micky, as difficult as it was, had been a hundred times safer than taking a chance with someone new.
He tossed his denim jacket on the back of a chair and stuffed his fingertips into the front pockets of his tight jeans.
“Does that mean you’re not leavin’,” Micky asked.
Mike gave him a small, sheepish smile. “No, Mick, I ain’t leavin’.”
Micky sighed with relief and hesitantly returned Mike’s smile. “So, what now,” he asked.
The two young men stood facing each other for a long moment. It would take time to find the answer, but neither one was in any particular hurry any more.
“You wanna get a drink,” Mike asked.
“Yeah, that’s cool.”
Micky turned to retrieve the rest of his clothing when a thought occurred to him.
“Hey, Mike,” he said, turning back slowly toward Mike with one eyebrow raised and a small smile on his lips. “We still have the house to ourselves tonight.”
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