It was now Saturday the 8th of March - Micky's 24th birthday.
Micky had had a busy couple of days leading up to his birthday, being visited by family that wouldn't be attending his party; his party was strictly friends-only. Mike's sons had spent the night, and Mike and the children were up, out and gone long before Micky woke up. When Mike returned home in the middle of the afternoon after dropping the boy's home, he met Micky coming down the stairs.
Mike locked the door behind him, as he always did when they were inside. He then turned to face Micky, who had just reached the bottom of the stairs. He hadn't seen the birthday boy so far that day.
"Happy birthday." Mike smiled at the excited-looking curly-haired man.
"Thank you." Micky beamed. "Do I get a birthday kiss?"
Mike stepped closer to Micky, and he planted a small kiss on Micky's forehead, prompting Micky to smile sweetly at him.
"What time are people arriving?" Mike wondered.
"Not 'til a bit later. I think some friends are coming early but most won't get here until tonight." Micky replied.
"Okay. Have you got a minute?" Mike looked a little anxious.
"Uh, I've got to go see my mom in a little while, she says she's got a surprise for me that she couldn't give me yesterday. I know what it is though; it's a cake. She makes me a cake every year. They're always so delicious and she'll expect me to bring it out tonight, but I'm not going to. I'll hide it away so me and you can have it all to ourselves."
Micky grinned wickedly, and Mike found it hard to believe Micky had turned 24 and not 9.
"Oh... so you don't have a minute?" Mike looked a little disappointed.
"Well yeah, I don't have to go just yet." Micky's face fell slightly, fearing something was wrong. "What's up?"
"I uh, I just wanted to give you your er, your birthday present." Mike blushed.
Micky's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Really?" He beamed.
"Well not if you don't want it." Mike joked.
Micky looked serious. "Why would I want a present from you?"
Mike's face fell, and he stared at Micky blankly.
"I'm just kidding!" Micky bounced. "Of course I want it! What is it?!"
Mike sighed. "You'll have to wait and see. Let me go get it."
"Okay." Micky grinned from ear to ear.
Mike went up to his room to fetch the present for Micky. When he returned, he met Micky in the lounge who was waiting expectantly.
Mike sat down beside Micky on the couch, and handed him a box a little awkwardly. "Here ya go."
Micky looked like a child on Christmas morning, and he opened the box, pulling out whatever it was inside that was wrapped in a piece of protective paper.
"If it ain't no good you can exchange it or take it back or whatever, I kept the receipt." Mike assured Micky. Mike always felt awkward giving gifts.
Micky pulled back the paper to reveal a brand spanking new camera.
Micky's face went from excited to looking genuinely touched.
"I uh, I looked at the camera you already got and I think this one is meant to be better, I think it's brand new but if you don't want it it's cool. I can take it back." Mike's cheeks flushed red as Micky inspected the camera closely.
"Are you kidding? I read about it a few weeks ago and have been meaning to get my hands on it since."
"Well now you got it."
Micky looked up at the Texan. "Thank you so much. I didn't expect this."
"It's nothin' much, really..." Mike replied modestly.
"Shut up, I love it." Micky looked to the camera again. "I've got some seriously groovy things so far but this has got to be my favourite present."
Mike smiled, feeling a little more relaxed. "I'm glad you like it."
Micky looked up, giving Mike a warm smile. He leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on Mike's lips. "Thank you."
"My pleasure, babe. You take good care of it."
"I will. I'm going to use it tonight, take loads of pictures." Micky said excitedly. "But I'll look after it. I probably won't use it once it gets too late and things start getting wild. I don't want anyone breaking it or anything."
Mike nodded his head, feeling a little uneasy at the thought of things getting too wild.
"Is everythin' organised?" Mike questioned.
"Yep, I think everything is in order." Micky looked around the large room. "You know the drill, anything of real value gets locked away in the office. That's probably where my camera will end up later on."
"Groovy." Mike nodded.
Micky looked at his watch. "Shit, I better get to Mom's." He sighed.
"Yeah, and I gotta go meet John. We're going to jam together."
Micky gave Mike a look. "So you won't be here when I get back?"
"No, we got some studio time booked. He wants me to help him lay down some ideas." Mike replied.
Micky looked disappointed. "Well he's invited to the party too, you know. I told you you can bring whoever you want - anyone is welcome."
"I know, but we'll be here later tonight." Mike assured him. "Just not right away."
Micky looked at Mike hard. "I know you're feeling weird about this. And to be honest, I'm feeling weird about it too."
"Feelin' weird about what?" Mike questioned.
"Well, this is the first party I've thrown since things have happened with us." Micky begun. "And all these people are gonna be here... Here in our little bubble. Being around people is different when it's not on your home turf. I don't know...maybe it's just me who feels like it. But I kinda feel like this house is our little safe haven, like we can do whatever we want here and no one can touch us. And now there's going to be tons of people here..."
Mike nodded slowly. He felt exactly the same way, but he was surprised Micky felt it too.
"Do you feel like that?" Micky wondered.
"Yeah... yeah I do, actually." Mike replied, looking at Micky. "I didn't think you would though."
"Well I do." Micky nodded. "It only really hit me yesterday. But nothing can touch us, you know that, don't you? It's not like there's evidence lying about the place. It's not going to change anything."
"I guess not." Mike scratched his head. "It's just..."
"...Weird. I know." Micky finished Mike's sentance. "But you know you can trust me, don't you? I'm not going to say anything. I know you're worried about me spilling the beans but I won't."
Mike was a little uneasy, and the truth was he didn't entirely trust Micky when he was drunk, but he also knew Micky would never intentionally do anything on purpose. "I know." He forced a smile.
Micky smiled back. "Good. Now I better get to Mom's or she'll seriously kill me. But I'll see you tonight though?"
"'Course you will." Mike replied, and they both rose to their feet, Micky with camera in hand.
Mike looked to the camera. "Don't tell anyone I bought you that."
"Why not?" Micky looked confused. "You've brought me birthday presents before."
Mike simply looked at Micky, silently asking him to accept his request.
"Okay. I won't say anything." Micky agreed.
"Thanks."
Micky smiled. "I'll see you tonight."
Micky turned to leave, and he was about to exit the room when Mike stopped him.
"Micky," Mike called after him. The curly haired man turned around, but Mike just stood there looking a little uncertain.
"Yeah?" Micky looked at Mike expectantly.
Mike stood opened his mouth to speak, but decided against it. "It doesn't matter." He sighed.
"What were you going to say?" Micky wondered.
Mike sighed, once more, looking a little awkward. "Just… I know it's your birthday n' all, and I want you to have a good time, but… but please don't do anything stupid. Don't- Don't go too crazy, will you?"
Micky smiled at Mike, touched by his concern. "I won't. I'll be good, I promise."
Mike smiled weakly, looking a little embarrassed.
Micky approached the Texan once more and gave him a small kiss on the lips. "I'll see you later."
Mike arrived home at a little before midnight to find Micky's party in full swing. The house was packed with Micky's friends and acquaintances - and friends of acquaintances - and Mike couldn't deny he felt uncomfortable with all these people in his and Micky's little 'bubble'.
Mike and his friend John walked into the lounge. Mike eye's were immediately drawn to one of the couches where a couple were making out passionately. Mike felt strange, as that was the very same couch that he and Micky had shared their first tryst together a few weeks before.
Mike then spotted Micky, and it was obvious that the birthday boy was well on his way to being completely wasted. Micky was doing shots with a few of his friends, and another of Micky's friends approached him, handing him another drink.
Mike found himself staring at Micky, watching him intently. Micky then spotted Mike, and he beamed from ear to ear at the Texan. Mike instantly tensed up, and quickly occupied himself in case anyone noticed the way Micky was looking at him.
A little later, Mike had attempted to relax with a couple of drinks, but it didn't seem to be working. He made conversation with a few friends of his that were in attendance, but he found himself constantly worrying about Micky. Mike did well to hide it, but he couldn't resist watching over the slightly younger man whenever the chance arose.
Mike was aware Micky was getting more and more drunk, and Mike was fairly certain Micky was high as well. Every time he looked at Micky, someone was handing him another drink which he would gladly accept. Mike started to feel anxious and uncomfortable, fearing that Micky would push himself too far and say something he shouldn't. And it wasn't just that - Mike simply didn't like the state Micky would get himself into.
Mike had just been to fetch himself another drink when he spotted Micky and a blonde girl clearly flirting. Micky was close to her with that cheeky look on his face, saying something to the blonde that she clearly enjoyed hearing. The blonde laughed, touching Micky on the arm in a flirtatious fashion.
A number of incidents like this occurred throughout the night. Mike tried his best to ignore it, but he was struggling. Unintentionally or not, Micky was winding him up.
Mike went outside to get some fresh air. There were plenty of people outside as well, messing around, smoking, skinny dipping in Micky's pool. There were even a couple having sex on one of the sun-lounges. None of this was really Mike's scene, and he couldn't wait until the party was over and all these strange people were out of the house.
When Mike walked back into the house, he saw Micky talking to someone Mike didn't recognise. Mike noticed that the man was showing Micky something in the palm of his hand.
"…good stuff." Mike heard the guy finish saying as he walked a little closer to them both.
Mike managed to see that Micky was being offered a pill. Micky looked into the man's hand curiously, and it looked to Mike like he was tempted. Micky lifted his head, noticing Mike was watching him, and his face fell.
"No, I'm good thanks, man." Micky told the guy.
The man shrugged and walked off, leaving Micky to beam at Mike. Micky looked at Mike with a proud grin, as if Mike should give him a pat on the back for being a 'good boy' and resisting the little pill he'd been offered. Mike was angry, wondering what Micky would've done if he hadn't noticed Mike watching over him.
Micky continued to stare at Mike, and his eyes seemed to change. He stared at Mike with lust in those almond-shaped eyes. Micky gave Mike the look he'd give when he wanted - and needed - sex. Mike started to feel a little flushed and uneasy, hoping and praying that nobody else noticed the way Micky was looking at him.
Mike turned away, and a drunken guy that Mike didn't even know started chatting to him. Mike was relieved to have the distraction, but whenever he glanced back at Micky he noticed Micky was still looking at him with the same hungry look in his eyes.
Mike wasn't sure if he was being paranoid, but for the next half an hour Mike could feel Micky watching him. Micky went back to doing what he did; drinking and dancing. But Micky still kept glancing at Mike, giving him quick little looks that spoke volumes, and it was starting to get under the Texan's skin.
Mike had had enough. Micky had been pushing his buttons all night, and he wasn't happy with the way Micky seemed to be getting more and more drunk. Mike walked over to the birthday boy.
"Where's the key for the office?" Mike questioned.
"Uh-uh, umm, in the drawer in the hall." Micky looked a little confused.
"I'm gonna be in there." Mike spoke low and quiet. Everyone was too drunk to even notice or care about their exchange.
Micky smirked, and Mike glared at him, suggesting he'd got the wrong idea.
Mike fetched the key to the office, and let himself in the small room. It wasn't really an 'office' as Micky didn't really have any need for one. It was just the 'grown-up' room where Micky kept legal documents, bank statements and all that boring stuff. It was a room his mother would use now and then to check over Micky's finances and make sure everything was in order for her son. But this was the room Micky used to lock away anything of any real value during his wild parties, to save them from getting broken or stolen.
Mike shut himself in the room, waiting patiently for Micky. The room was down the hallway and out of the way of most of the guests, so Mike was confident he could give Micky the talking-to he wanted to without being disturbed or overheard. The music and noise from the party-goers was enough to block out any voices that may come from inside the office.
It wasn't long before Micky entered the room with a cheeky grin on his face. He locked the door behind him and staggered straight over to Mike, wrapping his arms around the Texan's neck.
"You're naughty." Micky giggled.
Mike removed Micky's arms, stepping back and away from him.
"What the hell are you playin' at, boy?" Mike spoke in an aggressive hushed tone.
Micky looked like a naughty little boy who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He tried to put his arms around Mike's neck again. "Don't you want me?"
Mike shrugged Micky off. "Do you want people to get suspicious?" He snapped. "You keep givin' me that look, do you think people ain't gonna notice you staring at me all the goddamn time?"
"You stare at me too." Micky bit his lip, his eyes bright with lust. "Y-You think I don't see you looking at me, but I do. I can feel it."
"I don't." Mike said bluntly.
Micky walked closer. "I can't help it. I can't help it if I want you."
Micky wrapped his arms around Mike's neck.
"Micky, don't." Mike said sternly, but he didn't try to push Micky away.
"Nobody notices, nobody cares. And nobody knows we're in here." Micky leaned forward, attempting to kiss Mike on the lips.
Mike finally found the willpower to push Micky away again. "Are you crazy?!" He said in a hushed voice. "There's people just outside!"
"Nooo there isn't." Micky waved his hands dismissively. "Nobody is around. You can hear them all down the hall. We're safe in here, the door is locked... no one can get to us."
Micky stepped forward again, and he grabbed hold of Mike's crotch through his pants.
Mike flinched, and Micky stepped closer, pressing his body against the slightly taller man. "I want you." Micky started massaging Mike through his jeans. "I want you so bad."
Mike closed his eyes. He wasn't completely sober himself as he'd had several drinks by now, and there was so much smoke wafting about the air that he felt a little must've gone to his head. Mike's usually strong and rational thinking seemed to shrink in size and be replaced by this feeling of need that was being spurred on by his growing erection.
"It's my birthday, and I want you to fuck me." Micky whispered seductively in Mike's ear.
Mike was so wound up. He'd been frustrated by Micky's behaviour - justifiably or not - all night, and a part of him just wanted to shut the younger man up. The other part of him simply wanted to fuck Micky's brains out.
Mike grabbed hold of Micky's hips, pulling him forward. Mike quickly unbuckled his own belt and undid the zipper on his jeans. He then grabbed hold of Micky, pulling him backwards and pushing him hard against the desk. Mike then went to the button of Micky's pants, popping it open and dragging down the zip.
Mike spun Micky around, bending him forward over the desk and yanking his pants and boxers down to reveal that perfectly pert backside. Mike rammed a finger inside of Micky, causing him to moan, and he circled it around for only a few seconds before removing it just as fast.
Mike spat into the palm of his hand, coating his erection with saliva and wasting no time at all before thrusting himself deep inside of that waiting ass. Micky cried out, not used to so little preparation, but Mike was fairly certain the alcohol in Micky's system would help ease the pain.
Mike knew this would have to be quick, and he buried himself deep inside that glorious channel. Micky groaned loudly, and Mike instantly stretched forward, placing his hand tight over Micky's mouth to stifle his moans. Mike gripped hold of the shirt on Micky's back with his free hand, and he started thrusting inside of Micky hard and fast, getting rid of all that pent-up frustration.
Micky's body responded well to the rough treatment, bucking forward and pushing himself back onto Mike's dick. Micky moaned loud into Mike's hand, and Mike bit the inside of his own lip to contain his own noise of pleasure. Mike looked down to where their bodies met, and he watched as his huge erection slipped in and out of Micky's perfectly round and smooth backside, and Mike could hardly contain himself, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as he enjoyed the warmth and tightness of Micky's lively body.
Micky clawed at the wooden surface, gripping hold of the other side of the desk top with his left hand, and letting his right hand travel down beneath the desk to jerk himself off furiously.
Mike found that spot inside Micky, and he pounded it. He pounded Micky harder than he'd ever done before, and the way Micky was moaning and his body was jolting, he was loving every second of it. There was no way this was going to last long at all, and Mike pulled himself almost all the way out before slamming back in, hitting that spot inside Micky over and over again in an attempt to send him over the edge.
Micky slammed his fist into the desk top three times in a passion-filled frenzy, digging his fingernails into the wood and crying out as his orgasm hit him. Once Mike knew Micky had reached his climax, he let his own orgasm hit him, and he thrust deep inside of Micky, spending himself completely into the curly haired man.
As soon as Mike was finished, he pulled out. His breathing was ragged and his brow was covered in a thin layer of sweat. Mike quickly shoved himself back in his underwear and pulled up his jeans.
Micky wearily stood up, turning himself around and leaning back against the desk looking a little dazed.
Mike turned to face his lover. "Get yourself sorted." He ordered, as Micky just stood there with his pants half-way down his legs.
Micky was snapped out of his little daze, and he did as he was told, pulling up his underwear and jeans.
Mike noticed the mess Micky had made under the desk. "You need to clear that up as well." He said as he fastened his belt.
Mike walked to a mirror that hung on the wall, and checked his reflection. He wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt, ridding himself of any sweat. He patted down his hair and took a deep breath, trying to make himself look presentable.
When Mike turned back to Micky, he noticed Micky looked nothing short of a mess. Mike sighed, walking over to him. "You ain't leaving this room 'til you've got yourself together."
"You're amazing." Micky gushed breathlessly, looking to be in his own little world.
"Tuck yourself in. You look a mess, Mick." Mike gestured to Micky's shirt that was hanging messily over the top of his pants. Mike then turned his attention to Micky's hair, as some of his curls had stuck to his forehead the way they always did during sex.
Mike fluffed up Micky's hair, fearing that Micky was in no state to do it himself. Micky simply gazed at Mike with a satisfied look on his face.
Micky bit his lip. "I like it when you're rough with me."
"Shut up. We shouldn't have done that." Mike was annoyed at himself.
Mike brushed Micky's shirt down, straightening the boy out. Micky's cheeks looked flushed, but apart from that he didn't look like he'd just had his brains fucked out.
"No one knew. No one will know what we just did." Micky reassured him, though his words were slurred so they didn't carry too much weight.
"You better not push me again, Mick. I mean it." Mike said firmly.
"You liked it though." Micky wrapped his arms around Mike's neck again.
Mike took hold of Micky's arms and placed them down at his side. "Stop it. You better get your fucking act together, I swear to god. Behave yourself."
"Sorry." Micky giggled.
"Now clean up that mess. I don't want any traces of this left in here, do you understand?"
Micky nodded.
"And you say nothin' about this."
"Of course I won't. W-Why would I say anything? I'm not going to say anything. I'm not stupid." Micky looked a little annoyed. "It's our secret."
"I'm out of here. You stay in here a bit longer. If anyone asks we were just checkin' everything was okay in here, you got it?"
"No one cares, Mike." Micky sighed. "They're not gonna ask."
"I'm covering our backs, okay?" Mike felt a little stressed out.
Micky nodded.
"Now I don't want you lookin' at me. I want you to be totally yourself, you got that? Be normal. I can't have you raisin' any suspicions. I mean it."
"You can trust me, you know." Micky slurred, waving his hand. "I won't- I won't stuff up."
"You better not."
Mike turned and walked out, not looking back at Micky. He left the room, shutting the door behind him. He took a deep breath, annoyed and angry at himself for being so weak. That had been such a dangerous thing to do, and he couldn't believe he'd let it happen. But Micky was right - no one knew they were in there, and no one cared. There was no one outside the room, and there was so much noise filling the house that there's no way they could've been heard either.
All the same, Mike was still mad, and he was mad at Micky for showing no remorse for his behaviour. Mike kicked himself for rewarding Micky for his behaviour, and he wondered when it was that he became so weak and easily led.
Mike felt uneasy as he re-joined the party. Everyone was doing their own thing, and he doubted that anyone had even noticed he was gone. People sure didn't seem to notice him returning to where the biggest crowd was, but he couldn't help feel paranoid. He looked around, studying everyone's faces, half expecting someone to be giving him a disgusted look, knowing what he'd just been up to.
Mike got himself another drink and sat down on one of the only chairs available. His legs felt like jelly, and he still felt a little flushed and hot around the edges following the great sex he'd just had.
About 10 minutes later, Micky returned to the room looking even happier and more excited than before. If Micky was having the same paranoid thoughts that Mike was having, he sure as hell didn't show it. Micky looked more alive than ever, and Mike felt both envious and annoyed at Micky's lack of shame for what they'd just done.
Mike eventually made his way back outside where a couple of his friends were. He found it hard looking them in the eye and maintaining a normal conversation when he'd been fucking his band mate just 30 minutes before, but as time went on he managed to relax a little.
Mike stayed outside with his buddies for about an hour. It was about 3am by this point, and Mike was starting to get bored and restless. Mike certainly wasn't one for partying all night, and the alcohol in his system had started to wear off, part from time, part from fatigue and part from the sex he'd had earlier on. The party, however, showed no signs of slowing down. On the contrary, it seemed to be getting wilder and wilder.
When Mike re-entered the house, he found Micky dancing with the blonde girl he'd been flirting with earlier. They were dancing really close, and the blonde was all over Micky. Mike felt his blood slowly start to boil watching the pair. Micky looked totally out of it now, his eyes spaced out, and it was as if no one else was in the room.
The blonde turned around, pushing her ass against Micky's crotch and grinding against him. Micky had his hands on her stomach, rubbing her up and down, her little red dress rising up every time Micky's hands moved up and down her front.
Micky didn't even notice Mike standing there staring at him, and that made Mike feel even worse. Mike was absolutely livid.
But then Micky noticed Mike, and instead of stopping what he was doing, he simply smirked at the Texan. Micky looked Mike straight in the eye as he ground his crotch against the blonde girls ass. The girl was laughing, clearly just as drunk as Micky was, and also sharing the look of need in Micky's eyes.
Mike could tell by the way the girl was dancing with Micky that she wanted him to fuck her. And Micky was certainly giving her no reason to think he wasn't going to fuck her. The blonde turned around, wrapping her arms around Micky's neck and whispering something into Micky's ear that made Micky's devilish grin grown wider.
Mike was nothing short of furious. He felt overcome with jealously, though he didn't feel he had any real right to be jealous. He and Micky had never discussed being exclusive. There was no way Mike would even allow the topic to arise, as Mike didn't even label them as being in a relationship. While Micky had told Mike that he didn't want anyone else, this was Micky he was talking about. Micky, who used to pick up at least one girl every week. As far as Mike was aware, Micky hadn't been with a woman since their little thing had properly started - but how could he be sure? Micky had never said he hadn't been with anyone else. How did Mike know what Micky got up to when he was out and about? Sure, Micky hadn't brought any girls back to the house, but that didn't mean nothing had happened. Mike knew Micky wasn't against fucking in a toilet cubical in some club or bar, or at a friend's house during a party. So Mike really didn't know for sure that Micky hadn't been with anyone else at all.
Micky was wasted. His eyes were red-rimmed, watery, and Mike wondered if he'd taken something in the short time he'd been in the garden. While this could maybe explain his carelessness with the blonde, it made Mike even angrier. Mike hated it when Micky got himself like this. He didn't like it when Micky made himself completely vulnerable to everyone and everything. Mike realised how possessive he felt towards the younger man. Mike despised the way Micky put himself on a plate when he was out of it, not just sexually, but in every sense. Mike worried about Micky, and always had done. But that worry only seemed to be getting worse and worse.
Micky and the blonde were now virtually dry-humping while dancing to The Doors. Everyone else in the room had turned into one big blur, and all Mike could see was the two of them all over each other. There was no kissing, but Mike felt that would only be a matter of time. It'd only be a matter of time until they dragged each other off to do god-knows what to each other, and Mike physically felt his flesh crawl.
Mike had seen enough, and he stormed out of the room. Again, nobody noticed, and nobody cared. Everyone else was a mess too. There didn't seem to be a single sane person in the house at this point, and Mike felt like he was involved in some kind of freak show. There were people everywhere, making out, tripping out, dancing on tables and chairs, fucking, dancing like lunatics. Mike felt completely out of his depth, and all he wanted was for everyone to get out. He wanted everyone to get out and leave him and Micky alone.
Mike went upstairs to his room where he found a couple making out on top of his bed.
"Get the hell out of here!" Mike yelled upon seeing the couple, startling them out of their tryst, grateful that it hadn't gotten any further.
"Sorry, dude." The guy grabbed his girlfriend by the hand and the pair of them left Mike to it.
Mike slammed the door behind them, propping a chair in front of it and ruing the fact that Micky had lost the key to his room. Mike dragged the covers off his bed, inspecting his sheets for some strangers juices, and he was satisfied that nothing else had gone down upon them.
Mike knew there was no way he'd be able to sleep with the noise coming from downstairs, but he just needed to get away from it.
Mike laid on top of his bed, fully clothed, and wrapped his pillow around his head. He tried to block out the noise, but also his thoughts of Micky and the girl dancing downstairs.
Mike was absolutely furious with Micky. He was angry about the way Micky had been looking at him, the way Micky would probably have accepted that pill if he hadn't been watching him, the way Micky had seduced him in the office, and the way Micky was dancing with that girl. He was angry that Micky had gotten himself so drunk even though he'd promised Mike he'd "be good". Mike felt let down, and he was angry at himself for expecting anything different from Micky. This was Micky, after all. Micky was wild. Micky was irresponsible. Micky didn't think about the consequences. Why did Mike expect anything less?
"It's his birthday, what did you expect? You expect him to be tucked up in bed with a glass of warm milk by midnight?"
"He's a womaniser. He loves loving women. You seriously expect him to be satisfied with just a dick for weeks? He's probably fucking that chicks brains out right now, just the way you fucked his brains out a couple of hours ago."
Mike squeezed the pillow round his head even harder, trying to block out the voices in his head as well as the noise from downstairs. He was angry with himself that although he was furious with Micky, he was still incredibly worried about him. Micky could send Mike sick with worry. If Micky blacked out from too much booze or drugs, would anyone down there care? And the people that did care, would they be in a fit enough state to look after him and make sure he was alright?
"He's not a child. He's a grown man who can look after himself. If he's big enough to get himself into that mess, he should be big enough to get himself out it. He's a big boy."
"But he's my boy." Mike argued back.