I had a sudden idea. Please review if you read! Even if it's bad - at least then I can try to fix it :-)
The good thing about being Davy Jones was that he usually got the girls.
The bad thing about being Davy Jones was that he didn't usually get to hold on to them for very long. Sometimes he didn't even get to the 'holding' part.
Take Ellen. He and his friends had spent a lot of time trying to prove to her parents that Davy Jones was the sort of fella that could be trusted with someone's daughter. Not that Davy minded spending all that time and effort. Ellen was a groovy girl. Why, the first time he'd seen her, he'd known. Birds chirping, stars sparkling. She was the girl for him.
Then she'd been accepted to that fancy French finishing school.
Peter asked, "What's there to finish?"
Micky said, "She looks pretty done to me."
Ellen's dad had pulled him aside and talked to him, man to musician. But Davy hadn't needed the talk. He'd known already. Dreams were important. You couldn't take someone's dreams away from them. How would he feel if Ellen asked him to give up being a Monkee? He couldn't do that to her.
"She's in a band too?" Peter said. Mike sighed. He reached out and grabbed Peter's hand, and gently made him slap his own forehead with it.
And Davy already knew he wasn't built for long-distance relationships.
Micky said, "I'll say. Remember when you dated that six foot tall model? That ended badly and that was only a distance of a couple of feet."
So they'd left. Slipped away before Ellen even noticed they were gone.
"It was the right thing to do. If you'd stayed, you woulda only mixed her up more," Mike told him.
Davy knew he'd done the right thing. It didn't make it any easier to get to sleep that night. He stared up at the ceiling and sighed.
"Are you still upset about Ellen?" Peter's voice floated over.
"I dunno," he said. He frowned. "I'm happy for her, really. Just. I dunno. Something just feels wrong, you know?"
"Oh. Well – you did like her a lot."
"Yeah, but…I think the thing that's really bugging me is that I didn't get a chance to say a proper goodbye to her." He sighed again.
Peter sat up in his bed. "But you can!"
Davy frowned. "What?"
"You can do it right now."
"I can't go to her house now. Her father'd call the cops."
"You don't have to go to her house. You don't even have to leave the room," Peter said.
Davy sat up as Peter dropped onto his bed. "What are you talking about?"
"You can say goodbye to me. I'll be Ellen for you," Peter said.
"You're going to be Ellen?" Davy looked him up and down. "I can't see it. Maybe it's the nightcap."
Peter took off the nightcap.
Davy decided, "It's not the nightcap."
"Well then, you can close your eyes."
Davy thought about it. He shrugged and closed his eyes.
"Now, tell me how you feel," Peter said.
"I dunno." Davy wrinkled his nose. "I know you mean well, but it feels weird, Pete."
"Oh. Well then, maybe I should just" –
Peter sounded hurt. The bed shifted as he moved away. Davy reached out blindly and managed to grab his arm. "No. No, it's a good idea. I just. Need a few seconds to get used to it."
Peter sat back down.
He'd only said it because Peter'd sounded so hurt. But maybe it was a good idea. Couldn't hurt to try, anyway.
He took a breath. "Um. Ellen."
"Yes? Do you have something you want to say to me?" Peter didn't change his voice at all. Davy couldn't figure out whether that was a good or bad thing. It made it impossible to forget that he was talking to Peter, and not Ellen. But then, at least he could take it seriously, since Peter wasn't trying to do a girl's voice.
"Yeah. I wanted to say. Uh. Well. I'm going to miss you."
"Me too," Peter said softly.
"I mean – I know we didn't know each other for very long," Davy warmed up to his theme. "But I really liked you."
"I really liked you too."
"I thought we had something special. It's kind of a drag to find out that – that we can't be together anymore."
Peter was quiet for a while. Eventually he said, "I don't have to go to France."
The words came immediately and easily to Davy then, "Yeah, you do. It's your dream. I couldn't be responsible for taking that away from you. I just – wish things could've been different. That's all."
"Me too," Peter said. All of a sudden, Davy felt a hand on top of his. It was warm, and gentle and very definitely Peter's and not Ellen's. It helped though. He turned his hand so that they were palm to palm and linked their fingers. They sat like that for a while. It was strange, but it did feel like a goodbye.
"I guess this is it," Peter said.
"I guess so," Davy agreed.
"Take care of yourself, David." Peter reached out with his other hand and touched Davy's shoulder.
"You too." Davy did the same thing. He slid his free hand up Peter's arm. "I suppose I should say it, shouldn't I?"
"I think so," Peter said. Davy didn't know if he was speaking as himself or Ellen.
"Goodbye," he said anyway.
It was meant to be a goodbye hug. It was a goodbye hug. Except when Peter started to pull back then paused, some kind of instinct made Davy follow him and touch his lips to his in a goodbye kiss.
Habit, or something. Except, even though he'd had his eyes closed the whole time he'd never for even one second forgotten that it was Peter in front of him and not Ellen.
Still, it had been a goodbye speech and a goodbye hug and now this was a goodbye kiss. Except that Peter's lips were parted and Davy'd been so busy proving to Ellen's parents that he was trustworthy that they'd never got around to all that much holding or kissing and Davy hadn't minded (much) because yeah he'd wanted it but he'd figured they'd get around to it, except they hadn't and now his lips were sliding against someone else's – Peter, who definitely wasn't Ellen,but it was soft, and good, and then Peter's tongue hesitantly brushed against his – and then it was all that and hot too.
Heat flushed through him, prickling from his scalp to his toes, and all he could do was open his mouth wider and kiss back deeper, harder. One hand curled around Peter's neck, fingers sliding into his hair. The other hand slid around his waist. It wasn't a goodbye kiss any more.
But Peter didn't seem to have any objection to that. As himself, or Ellen. When Davy pressed forward, he pressed right back, soft-lipped, supple-tongued and Davy felt desperate. He felt parched with want. He and Ellen had managed a few snatched moments, sweet and mostly innocent and he hadn't minded, not when he'd thought they had all the time in the world. Then, it had been a promise, not a tease…but now, knowing he wasn't going to ever see Ellen again – it suddenly wasn't enough. And that wasn't Ellen's fault, but that didn't change that he was touch-starved, kiss-starved…sex-starved.
And Peter's hand was on his chest, touching him through his pyjamas. His thumb moved absently back and forth, sending sharp jolts of pleasure through him, stiffening his nipple and shooting straight to his cock. He arched into it, then tugged Peter impatiently downward.
He'd never been this insistent with a girl. He'd never needed to be. Considerate, that was him. Understanding. Properly appreciative if things moved in a more physical direction of course, and focused on making sure the girl was more than satisfied.
But this was something else. He felt wild and out of control with wanting. Peter's leg slid between his. A small part of his mind that wasn't taken over by selfish needy desire noted with relief that Peter was hard too, and then he went right back to trying to get himself off. He thrust his erection against Peter's leg, and Peter did the same against his hip. He dug his chin into Peter's shoulder. Peter's mouth was on his neck, kissing. Davy had to scrunch his eyes closed.
In the end, it was the feeling of Peter's hands slipping under his pyjama top and stroking his bare sides that did it for him. He jerked hard against Peter's leg, teeth biting into his bottom lip as everything suddenly flashed white and he came.
A second later and Peter stiffened against him and he felt a pulsing wetness against his hip.
Almost immediately he crashed from a sex high back to earth. Everything was suddenly awkward. The sound of their breathing was very loud in the silence. He tried to think of something, anything to say.
"So that was...goodbye," Peter said eventually. He sounded a little questioning. "I guess…that must be what love 'em and leave 'em means."