After disembarking from the shuttle, the Monkees gratefully piled into the Monkeemobile, nearly ecstatic to be only half an hour from home. Three of them were almost giddy, not quite able to believe their luck-they'd actually gotten Peter away from the Magic Kingdom earlier than expected! Peter was still quieter than normal-no doubt he still had a bit of lingering queasiness.
Mike and Micky were in the front, as usual, Peter and Davy in the back.
"How ya feelin,' mate?" Davy asked Peter quietly.
"Lots better now. If I'd stayed on that ride though..." Peter trailed off.
"Best to not enlarge on that," was Davy's response, grimacing a bit to himself when he was reminded of what could have happened.
Soon after they were settled inside the car, Peter snuggled up to Davy. Oh yesssss, soooo sweet... and so long awaited. Davy'd been waiting for this for a damned eternity. In a daze he realized that In less than an hour, they'd be all alone, nothing and no one to take Peter away from him.
Davy held Peter's face between his hands and just stared into the depths of his eyes. Peter smiled in that impish, free-from-sin way of his that always caused Davy's heart to flutter more than a little bit. Neither looked away... it was the most intimate component of their relationship, and the one Peter loved the most-exploring each other's souls. The tenderness between them eclipsed even the sexual desire.
A torrent of emotions cascaded over Peter. Davy had been so patient with him, which was nearly always the case. He knew he'd been tormenting Davy all day, yet Davy had tolerated it just so Peter could fully enjoy his long awaited trip to Disneyland. It just made him love Davy all the more. And yes, he loved him.
Mike and Micky sensed what was going on in the backseat, so they maintained constant conversation, as it made them a bit ill at ease. The other two were a lot more emotional and sensitive than Micky and Mike, and in their eagerness for each other, they weren't always as discreet as they tried to be.
"Can I have a kiss?" whispered Peter as if he were a kid asking eagerly for a piece of candy or a favorite toy.
"Can you ever, " David whispered back, jubiliant to be able to give Peter's lips more of the treatment they'd gotten in the sheep shearing barn, only with even less inhibition. That epsiode had only whetted his considerable appetite for the blonde.
Davy nudged Peter over close to the opposite door and stretched out on the bench seat, so his could put his head in Peter's lap, enjoying the way Peter petted his face for a while, then rose up a bit so he was practically sitting in Peter's lap, the better to kiss him. With his arms around Peter's neck, he started with what skin was exposed by Peter's shirt, kissing his chest, then kissing his way up to Peter's neck, then finally to his lips. This time there was no sizzling going on-the flame roared high and white hot the moment their lips touched. It had been too long of a wait. From a simmer to a rolling boil in two seconds flat. High time they got down to business, thought Davy.
Peter's hand lay tenderly on Davy's thigh, and Davy was hyper aware of it, wanting so much more, but knowing they had to wait until they got home, safely tucked away into their own bedroom. Then the love and lust could be unleashed. It was a good thing Mike had turned the radio on, as things were so hot and heavy, the two in the front seat would surely have heard the deep, raspy breathing in the back.
Peter clung to Davy as if he were afraid of slipping over the edge of a cliff. As if Davy were his lifeline, his salvation.
They kissed the entire trip home, stopping only to answer some random question from Micky or Mike. Both knew they sounded winded, artificial, but it couldn't be helped. They had eyes and thoughts only for each other, and talking to anyone else was just too much effort, too much intrusion into their private world.
When they arrived home, Peter and Davy were, naturally, the first out of the Monkeemobile, and into the pad.
"Me feet are killin' me," said Davy, reverting back to his full Manchester accent unconsiously. When his emotions ran high for any reason, he tended to do that. "Gotta go lie down," and he was up the stairs-just like that. That boy had a way of disappearing that Peter still was not used to. Like a lizard that is spied by a predator, Davy darted to his destination leaving neither trace nor trail.
Thanks a lot, David, thought Peter. Leave me with having to find an excuse to get myself up there as soon as possible.
"Peter!" called Davy, from upstairs, cracking the door. "Can you do me a favor and come rub my feet? They're killin' me!"
Mike and Micky tried their best to hide their grins as Peter blushed deep red, but nonetheless took the stairs three at a time. When the bedroom door had closed, Mike said in a hushed voice, "I can't say I'd like to witness what happens up there, but that was pretty sharp thinking on David's part, wouldn't you say?"
"Yeah, it wasn't bad. You could almost say they're a little bit charming in their own way." Micky made a funny face. "I'm so tired I doubt they'll even keep me up tonight."
Peter was getting nervous-Davy saw that as soon as he entered the room and closed the door. Like radar, he picked up on it. Why did this have to happen tonight? When he'd been waiting so long?
"Thanks for leaving me to the wolves down there," said Peter, to fill the silence, slight resentment peppering his voice.
"I still came to your rescue though, didn't I?"
"Well yeah, but I still felt like a pervert when I saw they were trying not to snicker."
"I'll make it up to you," said Davy softly, his voice more like a caress than words.
Peter was clearly agitated-the way he often got when suddenly left alone with Davy. Why he still got the jitters confounded Davy, even after all these months, and all the intimacy they had shared. Peter needed to unwind after being at Disneyland-Davy got that, but why was he still almost like a bashful kid so often at these times? Once you warmed him up he was so exuberant you'd never dream he was the same person. But until that happened... .maybe because he felt what they were doing was taboo?
Peter sat there looking down at the bedspread, avoiding Davy's eyes, his hair falling forward, and Davy reached out to gently brush it back. Just that little bit of a touch sent bolts of electricity up Davy's backbone.
"Okay, maybe its time for the lyrics game," Davy sighed and waited patiently. As usual, Peter's ears perked up. The lyrics game was something Peter and Davy had made up that was uniquely theirs, and never failed to loosen Peter up and make him receptive to Davy's advances in fairly short order. Peter nodded enthusiastically.
"Okay, 'it takes much more,' said Davy.
Peter only hesitated a second or two at the most.
"To be someone of your own. 'Auntie Griselda."
"Wow, you're sharp tonight. Let's see... 'I feel the moments...'
This time Peter was a little slower-by maybe three more seconds.
"...hurry on. It was today, its died away, and now it is forever gone. ' Early Morning Blues and Greens.'
Davy shook his head in wonder. Peter was a master at memorizing lyrics.
Peter was warming up to the game now. "My turn! 'And if the lines I say...'
"Ah, come on, too easy. '...fall apart, its because I won't know where to start. 'On The Day We Fall In Love.' Man, that song is cheesy," lamented Davy.
"Its romantic! Okay, here's another one. 'Even if I could.'
This one took Davy a full 5 seconds.
"And I wouldn't live without her, even if I could. 'Valleri.'
Davy's turn again. "But then she turned around..."
"...and broke my heart. ' She.'
"Tasted fear."
"We had never lived without or tasted fear. 'Shades of Grey.' Do you really think I'd not know that one?" Peter smiled sweetly, his dimple stabbing Davy in the heart.
It was true-"Shades of Grey," very haunting, unique and beautiful, was their mutual favorite. And the fact that they sang harmony made it all the more special to the two of them.
Peter's turn again, "Be a little bit stronger."
"Hold on Girl."
"Good! Doodee ronday ronday doodee ron ron."
"Okay, that's enough! Talk about corny. 'She Hangs Out.' Davy was laughing. "I like the song, but those particular lyrics are a bit... odd." Peter always eventually made him laugh when they played this game. The little Brit reminised for a second about how Peter made his weird popping "P" noises with his mouth when doing "Peter Percival Patterson's Pet Pig Porky." That one always had him in stitches. He'd better not mention it now if he wanted Peter in a serious mood.
"I'd rather watch you hump the bass than do the lyrics game anyday," Davy was still giggling in spite of himself. "You'd think I'd be used to it by now, but it gives me a hard-on every time."
"It turns me on, ever since you told me it turns you on. That's why I'm always grateful I have the bass in front of you-know-what!"
"Well, as big are you are, it would be hard to hide in those tight gray pants, or any pants, really. You don't know how many times I've noticed your... er... excitement in those pants. I swear it looks like you stuck a toilet paper roll in there, only longer. Makes me wonder how many other people have seen it too. You know, it might help if you wore underwear."
"You're the one who told me not to!" protested Peter. He was right, too. Davy loved looking at the outline of Peter's gorgeous package so much that he sometimes lost sight of anyone else existing but the two of them.
He knew just what types of things aroused Peter, too. If Davy half-smiled in a certain suggestive way at Peter, or snapped his fingers to the beat, or put his hands on Peter's shoulders the way he did when they played 'Daydream Believer,' or lifted his tambourine high over his head and moved just so... not to mention when Davy danced-that did it every time with no exceptions. Funny but it seemed that only Davy caused Peter to get those spontanous erections in the middle of practice, rehearsal or a gig. It even happened when they sat on the couch, and Peter showed Davy how to play certain chords on a guitar or bass. Sometimes they'd even had to stop and "take care of business" so Peter could concentrate on teaching Davy the instrument. Davy felt strangely proud of the effect he had on Peter.
"One of these days you'll be playing your bass and thrusting, and you'll get a bit more than you bargained for," teased Davy.
Peter suddenly looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Don't tell anyone... but... its already ...happened."
"WHAT?"
"It wasn't my fault. You got in close to me like you usually do, but that time you were practically on top of me, when you were playing your maracas. Remember that? You backed up right into me and kept right on singing and shaking those maracas, not moving away... actually leaning into me, and I couldn't stand it anymore-your closeness." Peter had a dreamy yet self conscious look as he mentally re-lived the experience.
"You came?" Davy was incredulous.
"Yep. I had to run to the bathroom. Remember that day at practice, I came out of the bathroom and my pants were wet in front-after I tried wiping it off, the spot was even bigger, and I told you guys I waited a bit too long to go to the bathroom?"
Davy burst into hysterical laughter. "I do! That was the day?" he choked out when he was able to find his voice and talk again. "Why didn't you tell me when we were alone?"
"We hadn't started seeing each other in that way yet," Peter said delicately. Davy loved the way Peter referred to certain subjects with such an innocent air. It reminded him of Peter using the term 'lovin' when he was referring to sex. Davy couldn't help it-he found it very appealing.
"Yeah, you're right. That was some time ago. I do remember it too, because I was getting in close to you on purpose. I guess you could say I was... flirting. How do you keep it from happening now?" Davy was curious.
"Oh, I'm careful not to touch myself too much with the back of the bass. If it rubs just so, and you do something to trigger me, well...it probably would happen again."
"Oh Peter, I love you," Davy put his arms around Peter. "And the way you express yourself too. You do things that intoxicate me. I love when you close your eyes sometimes when you sing... and when you get that almost orgasmic look on your face when you're really feelin' the music. But you dancing at the keyboard, and especially the bass get to me the most."
Oh...Oh...Oh... here it came. That suspense-that distant thunder-that intrique hanging thickin the air. Davy could feel it, and he would have recognized it anywhere. Peter was warming up to him. There wasn't the slightest doubt in Davy's mind. All he had to do, really, if he'd had any doubt at all, was to look at the front of Peter's pants. But that wasn't even necessary, as Peter was giving off all kinds of subtle clues that Davy had learned to pick up on...
The slight hitch in Peter's breathing, the warm glow in his eyes, which were turning dark with passion, the way Peter hugged him back so eagerly. Davy was convinced Peter was the only person in the entire world who could tell a whole story with just a hug. His hugs were positively expressive.
Then there was the way Peter's body relaxed right into his. Kind of melted, like what hot fudge sauce does to ice cream when drizzled over it. The tension was easing fast. Peter became a teddy bear, soft, warm and fuzzy and completely moldable against his body when he was in a loving mood.
Davy felt his heart quicken and he had the sensation of floating in a sea of tantalizing want. The gentle waves lapped at him, coaxed him to immerse himself. His chest felt constricted-he had to restrain himself for the tenth time from ravishing Peter.
"Peter..." he whispered softly. "Peter..."
"Davy... Davy baby... love me." Those words shot through Davy like an arrow slathered heavily with thick, drugging passion. Peter almost always called him David, but the occasional 'Davy' would slip out when he was spellbound, as he was now. Davy gulped, struggling once again to maintain control. And almost not succeeding. He reminded himself that a natural flow was what was imperative here. Peter was much like a female in that way. He needed a slow, gentle build-up. At least most of the time.
They were prone on the bed now, lazily taking each other's shirts off, in no hurry... Or seemingly. Outwardly he appeared calm and cool-just enjoying what was happening. Inside his head, Davy's mind was racing ahead, imagining all the possibilities. This was gonna be good. But when had it ever been bad with Peter? Not once.