The idea for this came from one of my favorite stories ever, 'When Love Comes Knockin' at Your Door' by my favorite author seaecho! She's the best!
Her name was Marnie and she had wavy blondish hair and the palest skin Peter'd ever seen. Like a china doll. She didn't talk much, just watched people with intent light-colored eyes. When she smiled, the corners of her mouth barely lifted and she never showed her teeth.
And Davy was in love with her.
Not the usual 24 hour kind of in love. Six whole weeks of dating in love. In love, in love.
It was in everything he did. The way he held her hand. The way he smiled at her. The way he said her name.
"He's gone," Mike said. "Just gone." He shook his head. Peter didn't think Mike liked her, even though he was polite every time he talked to her. Or about her. It was just a feeling Peter got.
Micky definitely didn't like her. Peter thought it was because every time he told a joke, Marnie just stared back at him. "I don't see why he's all over her. I don't even think she's that pretty," he said.
He looked at Peter. "But I guess Pete'd disagree." He winked.
Peter didn't know what he meant by that. But Marnie was pretty. All of Davy's girls were. And Marnie'd made him fall in love with her, so…
So.
She came back to the pad after their gigs.
"Hey Marnie," Micky called. "Good to see you. Especially since we didn't – at the gig."
She shrugged and crossed over to the couch where Davy smiled a special smile just for her. "I was there."
She sat down next to him, and Peter watched Davy tangle their fingers together. He watched Davy dip his head and whisper something into her ear. He watched Marnie drop her head onto Davy's shoulder.
It wasn't that he didn't want Davy to fall in love. Of course he wanted Davy to be happy, he loved D –
It was just. He couldn't stop staring at her. Looking for it. The special thing that made Davy fall for her. It was stupid and it hurt but he couldn't stop himself. Davy was in love with her. Davy was in love with her and that meant Peter couldn't stop staring at her.
She had to be really, really special if Davy loved her.
Just then Marnie lifted her head from Davy's shoulder and caught Peter watching her. Again. She didn't say anything, but she still made Peter feel uneasy. He thought it was the way she looked back at him, the way her pale eyes seemed to size him up. It was a little off-putting. Maybe that was what Micky meant about her not being all that pretty.
The corners of her lips turned up, just a little, and she rested her head on Davy's shoulder again. Almost unconsciously, Davy tightened his arm around her, pulling her closer.
It was okay. Because if she made Davy happy, then she belonged with him.
Peter just had to get used to it was all.
Sometimes Marnie's friends threw these parties. They asked Marnie, obviously, since she was their friend. And Davy got invited too because he was her boyfriend. Most of the time Mike, Micky and Peter stayed home.
"It's just as well," Mike said. "Most of those are black tie and we don't have a black tie."
"I have a black felt tip pen," Micky said.
When Davy brought it up, Marnie said, "You know how boring those parties are, Davy."
Davy looked at them and admitted, "Well – yeah. They are kinda boring."
Marnie looked at Micky. "That's why I don't invite you guys." Her eyes flicked to Peter. "I like you too much."
"We, uh, appreciate that," Mike said.
Sometimes Davy went to her house. He never said anything about it, but he always came back quiet after one of those visits, with a line between his eyebrows that took a while to fade.
"Poor little rich girl," Mike said once, but then he pressed his lips together so hard they went white and he didn't say anything else after that.
Mostly Marnie came over to the pad.
"Where's Davy?" Marnie asked when she came in. "It's one o' clock. He was supposed to meet me on the beach."
"He's not here," Peter said. He looked at the stopped clock on the wall. He frowned. "He said he was meeting you at two."
"Oh. Maybe you're right," she said. "I'm really bad at remembering times. I guess I'll just have to wait."
She sat next to him on the couch. He thought about the way she sat with Davy – a little closer (but not very much). Of course, she wasn't touching his hand and her head wasn't on his shoulder, but apart from that, this was almost it. He wondered if Davy felt the same way he did, sitting next to her. Probably not – because Davy felt it, whatever it was. Peter just felt a little uncomfortable.
Just then, Marnie's hand closed around his. He jerked and looked at her.
"Do you mind?" she asked.
He realized he was holding the remote. "Oh. No. That's okay."
She changed the channel, then let go. She smiled ahead at the TV.
She came over early another time too, and helped Peter sort through his records. It was nice of her. He guessed that was part of why Davy liked her so much.
"He should be back soon," he said, even though she didn't seem all that worried.
She shrugged. "It's fine."
While she read the back of one of the records, he found himself staring at the shape of her nose, at the way her hair fell across her face, trying to see whatever it was that Davy saw. It was like touching a bruise. He couldn't make himself stop.
She looked up and caught him staring.
Peter swallowed. "Davy's great," he said. "He – he really likes you."
She held his eyes long enough to make him feel uncomfortable. Then she just said "Thanks," and went back to looking at the record. The corners of her mouth tilted up.
Maybe this was what bothered him. That she took Davy's devotion so much in stride. With calm thanks, like it was her due. He wasn't complaining, or saying she wasn't worthy of Davy's feelings. Davy was in love with her – that was enough of a testimonial. It was just…if it had been Peter, he would have been so proud to be the person that Davy loved. He wouldn't have been able to hide how proud he was, the way Marnie did.
She had to be hiding how she really felt, because there was no way she could not know how lucky she was.
So Peter talked a bit about what a great friend Davy was and what a good person and how good he sounded in the band. He liked talking about Davy. And he thought that Marnie might like the chance to talk about him.
But she just fiddled with the record in her hands and eventually she said, "You know, Davy's nice and all, but he's not the only thing I'm interested in. I'm not that boring. We could talk about other stuff."
Peter looked at her. "Oh. Like what?"
She lifted one shoulder. Now it was her turn to stare. "I don't know. Why don't you tell me?"
He couldn't think of anything so they spent most of the rest of time sorting records in silence, until Davy came back.
Even if she didn't want to talk about him, Marnie did like Davy though. That was impossible to mistake, given how often Peter found them kissing on the couch. Davy'd kissed lots of girls, even in front of Peter and Mike and Micky. But this was something else. Maybe it was just because Peter knew Davy was in love with her. Maybe that made the way Davy's hands tangled in her hair feel so important. Maybe that was why it made his heart catch to see her hand on Davy's thigh.
"A whole mansion to herself, but she still ends up back on our couch," Micky said in the kitchen. He wanted to watch the late night movie.
Peter thought about it later, after he'd gone to bed. No late night movie. Davy was still out there with her, maybe still on the couch even and Peter couldn't help replaying the soft sounds of their kissing, and the way Davy had looked, eyes closed. He remembered Davy's hands and imagined how they might feel against his face, fingertips sliding into his hair. He put a hand on his own thigh, heavy and hot, and wondered what it would be like to touch Davy like that. Desire and guilt coiled in his belly.
He had some crazy dreams that night. Once he thought he woke up at the sound of Davy's voice outside the door.
" – not a good idea."
He thought he heard Marnie say, a little louder than Davy, "Don't you want to?"
"Of course I want to. It's not – look, what if Pete wakes up?"
There was a silence, one filled with the lush sounds of lips and tongues and bitten off moans. It was too hot in Peter's bed but he couldn't move.
Then even louder Marnie said, "I bet he won't."
"Sssh," Davy said. "He'll hear you."
"No he won't. I bet he's fast asleep. I bet he wouldn't know it if we laid down right next to him." Her voice sounded breathless.
More soft sounds and then –
"Come on," she said. The handle of the door began to turn.
"No." Davy stopped. "It's not. It's not fair. To Pete."
"Scaredy cat," she said. There was a pause. She sounded more distant when she said. "All right then. I guess you just don't want me as much as you say you do."
"It's not that," Davy said. "It's really not. It's just – Pete's my friend and it wouldn't be" –
"Yeah," she said, cutting him off. This time her voice was distant because she was moving away from the door.
It felt real at the time but by the next morning he knew it couldn't be. It was way too out there.
It was just that the door was ajar. He came back from the beach and went to the kitchen to get a drink and the door was ajar. The door was ajar and he heard a sound and when he looked in there they were on the bed.
Davy's bed, not his.
Not that they would have been on his bed anyway, because that had only been a dream.
This felt like a dream too, standing in the half open doorway and looking at Davy and Marnie on the bed. He should have moved back right away. He should have closed the door softly behind him. Given them privacy. Except shock froze him to the spot for a couple of seconds and then by the time he unfroze, something else entirely kept him standing just where he was.
Something that wasn't shock at all.
And it wasn't like he could see all that much – they both still had almost all their clothes on, and even though Davy was the first thing in his line of sight he could see more of Marnie than him, because her skirt rode up where she'd wrapped her legs around Davy's waist.
It wasn't all that different from any time he'd seen them kissing on the couch. Except that they were lying down and he could see all of Marnie's pale legs from ankles to thighs, and even if Davy was still wearing pants, he was rocking his hips softly and that part of Davy didn't belong to Peter, wasn't for him, but he wanted it so bad he just couldn't make himself look away. Even though he knew it was wrong.
Even the sight of Davy's bare feet dangling over the side of the bed was unbearably erotic to him. He had to squeeze himself through the thin fabric of his swim shorts.
He wished he could see Davy's face. He shouldn't want more because he didn't have the right to any of this, but he did. He wanted everything.
Marnie started to make noises, soft moans, and Davy buried his face in her neck. "Oh," she said. "Oh, oh, oh."
She turned her head more to the side, eyes sliding over the wall, then the door. "oh," she said.
Peter thought he might die. Had she seen him? He immediately started to step backwards.
"No," she said and he froze. "Just" – and she took Davy's hand and slid it under her top. She wasn't wearing a bra. "I like it. That's good." Her eyes were still turned in Peter's direction.
Peter's mouth was dry. She couldn't have seen him. Because if she'd seen him, why would she do that? And then why would she roll over, so that she was on top? Even if she paused a little and it seemed like she was half-looking over her shoulder before she pulled her top off…
That was just his imagination. She couldn't have seen him.
It wasn't as compelling a view as before, and he kept wanting to look around Marnie, especially when Davy's shirt got tossed to the side. But there was still enough to keep him in place. He was a starving dog hoping for scraps. Davy's hands looked very tanned stroking across the skin of Marnie's back, pulling down her skirt. Her hands pulled at his pants and even though he only got brief flashes of skin, the way Davy groaned when she lifted up then sank down, made Peter's stomach churn with a sick excitement.
He thought about it later, in the shower. Davy's hands on her hips, guiding her as she rocked. The soft way he'd gasped and pulled her down, arms wrapping across her back. He remembered the lazy stroke of Davy's fingers down her spine afterwards.
He thought about it in the shower and he touched himself, bit his lip and jacked himself off. He felt bad even though it helped release the tight knot of tension he'd felt since looking through the bedroom doorway. Davy didn't know and it was wrong to get off to the memory of Davy's hands and the flashes of skin he'd seen and the way Davy moved when he was having sex with someone else.
It was wrong. None of it was for him so he shouldn't use it. None of it was for him, but it was all he was ever going to have and so he used it anyway.
Afterwards, leaning shaky-legged against the shower wall, it flicked across his mind. The way Marnie had propped herself up on Davy's chest and turned her head. Like she knew he was there. Like she'd known all along.
But that was crazy. She'd just been brushing her hair over her shoulder, that was all.