After everything that had happened in the two years since Mike and Micky got together, it was hard to believe they were here now. It had been a rocky road, to put it mildly. It was never going to be easy, two men in a loving, physical and committed relationship who had to keep it a secret from the majority of people they knew. Sure, they had told Micky's family several months back, and a few others had found out along the way too - but they were extremely lucky that everyone had managed to be supportive and understanding, even if their initial reactions were that of shock and dismay.
The fact that they were famous didn't help. Their relationship begun after the bands fame was beginning to slide; record sales dropped, their show was no longer on the air and their movie had more-or-less tanked. That probably helped them, not being in the public eye or of the public's interest as much as they were a year or two previous. It made their life a little easier, but it was still hard.
They had many ups and downs since they had finally gotten together. It wasn't straight-forward in them uniting in the first place. Two men who certainly didn't consider themselves 'queer', falling for each other. It was only because Mike stayed with Micky after his marriage fell apart that the spark between them finally ignited into full-blown flames. At first they were flames of anger and frustration, the denial on both their parts causing rifts between them, causing silly heated arguments about absolutely nothing, until finally it all got too much and they gave into the fire between them. It wasn't just sex. They fooled around several times, several unspoken times that happened and appeared to be forgotten right away. It was only after they made love for the first time they realised what they had couldn't be ignored. This was more than just two friends messing around. This was real, this was dangerous, this would hurt too many people and cause too much damage if it got out...
So they broke up. And they got back together again. And they admitted their love for one another. And nothing was ever simple or easy, as happy as they were together. Mike battled with inner-demons; he felt guilty for betraying his wife and hurting her the way he did. He was scared of hurting Micky, knowing that Micky would never be able to have the relationship he always dreamed of. Micky, being a heart-on-sleeve kind of guy, would often dream-aloud about how "one day things would be different" and that they could be open about their relationship, not have to keep it a secret, they could be a "normal couple" and everything would be fine and groovy. Mike knew better. Mike was a realist; Micky was a dreamer.
So they broke up again, Mike feeling that Micky would be better off without him. Mike tried to give his marriage another shot, believe that it was the "right thing" to do and would save himself, and Micky especially, a lot of heartache in the future. Micky went off the rails. Heartbroken and miserable, he was reckless, battling with drink and drugs and mixing with the wrong crowd. Mike never stopped loving Micky just as Micky never stopped loving Mike, and when Micky wrapped his motorbike around a tree after carelessly driving too fast, this was the wake-up call Mike needed to tell him he'd made a terrible mistake.
Mike ended things with his wife and begged Micky for another chance. Micky gladly accepted without a moments hesitation, Mike revealing that he'd only tried to protect Micky by leaving him.
And here they were now. They were committed to each other one hundred percent. They lived together permanently now; they told everyone that it didn't make financial sense them living individually in two huge houses - they might as well live together in one. The truth was, they wanted to be together all the time. They wanted to live together like normal couples, even if nobody could know the real reason why. They even wore rings - their own personal symbols of their devotion to each other. They couldn't get married, but this was as close as they could get, and they were happy with the way things were.
Micky had changed Mike. Mike was now more loving, more open and more honest. He was softer. He'd learned to share his thoughts and feelings instead of sweeping them under the carpet. In the early stages of their relationship, Mike had viewed Micky as a "pain in the ass"; a constant nag, always pushing Mike for more, always trying to get him to "open up". Micky described Mike as having a "10 foot iron wall" built around him, unable to let anyone in. Micky thought it was Mike's fear of getting hurt, but in time he realised it was Mike's fear of hurting him.
That was different now. Micky's natural honesty, and the way he could make a conversation with a brick wall, taught Mike that letting people in, showing vulnerability and talking about feelings and emotions didn't make you weak. If anything, it made you stronger. Mike still viewed himself as a velvet fist in an iron glove, but he certainly found he could absolutely be himself now - around Micky, if no one else.
Mike laid on their bed, on top of the covers, his hands on the back of his head. He waited for Micky to emerge from the bathroom, reflecting on the past two years. They'd had a nice day together - they went for a long drive before heading home for dinner and opting for an early night.
Mike was dressed in loose-fitting pyjama pants, and nothing else. He watched as the door of the bathroom opened and Micky entered their bedroom fresh from the shower, a towel wrapped around his slender waist.
Micky smiled at his partner, rubbing his hair with another towel before discarding it, tossing it onto the couch in their bedroom. He could feel Mike's eyes burning into him, and he beamed at the long-legged Texan.
"Are you checking me out?" Micky asked with a cheeky smile.
"You know I am." Mike responded seriously, his eyes fixed on Micky.
Micky loved it when Mike looked at him like this. He'd always been more body-conscious than he'd let on; he was totally hung-up about his weight, labelling himself "too skinny." Mike thought he was perfect, and told him so often enough for Micky to feel better about himself. And the feeling was mutual; Micky thought Mike was beautiful. He was head-over-heels. They both were. Totally in love, and totally in lust. That fire of passion was burning just as strong as when they had first gotten together. If anything, it burned brighter.
Micky dropped the towel around his waist, letting it fall to the floor. He watched Mike as he took a shaky, deep breath in. The sight of Micky's naked body still took Mike's breath away even after all this time. They had fucked in so many places, in so many positions. Hard, fast, soft, slow. Any which-way-and-how. Micky loved it when Mike was rough with him - not always, but sometimes he really enjoyed Mike taking control and pounding him into the mattress. For some reason which baffled Micky, it made him feel like more of a man.
But the rough sex was followed by loving cuddles. Always. Lazy hugs, soft touches and sweet kisses. The reason the sex was so great was because it was filled with love. Even the fast and furious sex was laced with the deepest, heart-filled love that made every touch, thrust, kiss and movement all the more erotic and satisfying.
And here they were again, about to have sex for what felt like the millionth time, but they knew it would be just as sweet, if not even sweeter than the time before.
Micky stood naked in front of Mike. They watched each other. It was almost as if they were having a stare-off. Micky being Micky was the first to speak.
"What are you thinking about?" He asked in the way only Micky asked questions; with an almost childlike curiosity that used to drive Mike crazy, but now he just found it adorable.
"You." Mike answered, his eyes still focussed on Micky's perfect-frame.
Micky walked towards the bed, a smile on his face. He approached Mike, and then lifted his leg, straddling him. "What about me?" He asked, looking down at him.
"Everything." Mike said, lifting his hand to Micky's face. He placed it on Micky's cheek before running it upwards and planting his fingers in Micky's curly, slightly damp hair.
Micky's face softened from broad grin to warm, almost bashful smile. For all the talk, for all the jokes, for all the bravado, there was far more to Micky than a lot of people realised. He had his own demons. He'd done a lot of things he regretted in the 7 months he and Mike had spent apart after Mike had attempted to work on his marriage. He'd slept with a lot of women, and even more men. He'd dabbled in cocaine and psychedelic drugs and had no idea what he was doing half the time, and he was deeply ashamed of his behaviour - especially considering he was about to become a father at the time.
Although Micky and Samantha had split up before their daughter was born, they remained close - and Sammy was one of the few people who knew about Micky's relationship with Mike. Micky felt blessed that even after his terrible behaviour and the fact that he was in a full-blown relationship with another man, he was still able to see and have a relationship with his daughter.
It didn't mean he didn't have his hang-ups though, and Mike was more than a little protective of Micky. Mike felt responsible for the mess Micky was in after they broke up, and the scars it had left behind. It often caused conflict between them; Micky feeling like Mike treated him like a kid, or that he didn't trust him. But Mike couldn't help it. He despised the thought of strange, dirty men feeding his boy cocaine and then taking advantage of him. It was something that haunted Mike as much as it haunted Micky.
But all of these things only seemed to make them stronger. And Micky felt safeness with Mike that was unexplainable.
Micky leaned down, kissing Mike gently on the lips. He pulled back, gazing at his lover. "I love you." He said with that small smile.
Mike gave the same response he always gave, entwining his fingers in Micky's curls. "I love you more."
"Not possible." Micky grinned, pressing their lips together again.
They kissed gently, their fingers losing themselves in each other's hair. And then it got a little heated. Mike's hands moved down Micky's body, to the small of his back before resting a hand on either one of Micky's ass cheeks, giving them a firm squeeze.
Micky pressed their growing erections together, moving his lips from Mike's, kissing along his jaw before moving down to his neck. He planted gentle kisses on Mike's neck, moving to his throat before working his way down Mike's naked chest.
And down he went, the trail of kisses heading towards Mike's stomach, and Mike took a deep breath as Micky slowly pulled down his pyjama pants, revealing that impressive erection that was standing to perfect attention.
Micky wore a satisfied look, and licked his lips absent-mindedly. He looked Mike straight in the eye, and didn't break his gaze as he lowered his head, taking the tip of Mike's erection into his mouth.
Mike tried to focus on Micky, but the sensation was too much. His right hand automatically went straight for the head of curls between his legs, fisting them tightly while his left hand grabbed a handful of the bed covers beside him.
He let out a deep breath laced with a quiet moan as Micky's warm mouth slid right the way down his hard member. He could've sworn Micky got better at this every single time. And Micky loved it. It wasn't easy, but Micky enjoyed the challenge. Mike's penis was huge, more than an inch longer than Micky's, and certainly thicker. But Micky wouldn't have it any other way. He'd learned to let it slide down his throat, and he revelled in the feeling of it in his mouth. Micky sometimes laughed when he thought what it would've been like if somebody had told him a few years back that he would become an expert at sucking big dicks. He'd never been with a man before Mike. And even though he'd been with a few men in the period he and Mike were apart, he took comfort in the fact that he'd never kissed another man on the lips. It was a small consolation, but it was at least something.
Mike however, had only ever been with Micky. Micky was the only man Mike had ever touched or ever looked at. He knew Micky was hung-up on the fact that he'd been with other men, and he knew Micky once worried about what Mike thought of that. He knew Micky felt shame and regret and was embarrassed that he'd become a prize-slut for a few months there, but it didn't change anything for Mike. Mike knew how messed up Micky was at the time. He knew that it was he who had put Micky in that state in the first place. It took him a long time to get over what he'd made of his boy, but that was truly behind the both of them now. That was a long time ago, and it didn't matter. Mike was the only man for Micky, just as Micky was the only man for Mike.
And they were the only two men in the world right now. Mike forced his eyes open, and lifted his head so he could look down at Micky. There was something about seeing Micky like that; the hunger and the passion on his face as he sucked Mike off, that literally made Mike see stars. He knew if he watched Micky for too long, that would be it - game over. So he closed his eyes again.
Micky stopped what he was doing, to Mike's initial disappointment. But he knew what Micky was after, and that would be even better than getting a first class blow job. Micky made his way back up the bed, and laid beside Mike. He propped himself up on his side, and started drawing circles on Mike's chest.
"I want you." Micky purred.
"Music to my ears," Mike thought. And he knew exactly what Micky meant; Micky wanted Mike to make love to him. And as often as Micky would make love to Mike, and as much as they both enjoyed it, there was something about Mike fucking Micky that drove them both more wild than anything else. They didn't know what it was, but it just sort of worked. Good and proper, it seemed like their bodies were made for each other alone. It was always magic. It was always fireworks. And it was about to happen now.