A/N Sorry! I know it's been a little while. The Easter/Spring Break bit kind of threw me off schedule. I'll post the next chapter early to make up for it.

Micky was still lying on his bed looking at the ceiling. The fire in his pants was burning him. His heart was racing. His felt feverish.
Oh fuck…what had just happened?
That was too far.
Hadn't they just agreed not to go too far?
God, he wished Peter would come back and fuck him.

"Oh." Micky moaned. No he didn't. He didn't really wish that.

But fuck! That had been hot.
He hadn't intended to attack Peter like that but Peter had pushed his buttons.
Had he done that on purpose?
Maybe… Or maybe it was subconscious.

Micky had seen Peter fuck. Peter was a lover if nothing else. He seemed to subconsciously pick up on things. He seemed to know exactly how to please whoever he was with.

Damn… What would it be like to be Peter's lover?

Come on Micky, stop thinking like that.

He just needed to get off. That was all.
He reached in his jeans.
It felt good. Really good.
Too good.

He stopped jerking…

Why did you stop?

I don't know. I just think I should wait.

Wait for what? Until you marry yourself?

Micky laughed half heartedly. No, he wasn't old fashioned like that.

So why did he want to wait?

Yesterday he'd thought it was because he didn't want to get off to Peter.
But obviously that wasn't true, considering what had just happened.

Why then?

Maybe because after all the emotional shit he'd put himself through the last few weeks… after all the fear and self hatred, he was starting to accept things. Starting to see this for what it was… a sexual awakening.
And this feeling… this fire was something physical that he could hold on to… to remind him that it was real.
If he jerked himself off it would be cheap and meaningless.

So who's gonna get you off then? Peter?

Micky bit his lip. I don't know… maybe. Would that be so bad?

Yeah it might be.

Why?

Well…it opens doors doesn't it?

I guess.

Maybe even a back door?

Micky cringed. No. Despite his sporadic fantasies, that door needed to stay locked. Sex was out of the question.

Better be careful then.

Careful…yeah.

But deep down he knew he wasn't really the careful type.

So Peter jerked it to Micky…again.

But this time he had more fuel. This time he had a clear memory of Micky's lips on his, Micky's tongue, his body beneath him. The hands that were all over the place. The sounds. The way he looked.
This time he had felt Micky's cock. He'd felt it rubbing against his.
Albeit there were two zippers attached to two pairs of jeans separating them.
But how easy it would have been to unzip them?
What would it feel like to rub flesh on flesh?
He almost wished they hadn't stopped.
Almost.

And what if they hadn't? How far would they have gone?
Surely they wouldn't have…..

But then, just two days ago he would have never believed that he and Micky would be making out on their bedroom floor.
Things were happening too fast.
They shouldn't have been screwing around like that. This was too new and weird. Uncharted.
It was so easy to get wrapped up in it. Hormones were all over the place.

They were men after all. Men were horny by nature. Men wanted to progress as far as possible, as fast as possible.
This was no different…except that it was new…and weird… and uncharted.

They shouldn't be rushing things. They could really screw themselves up.
They might do something they'd regret.
Peter couldn't let that happen.
Not even in the name of passion…. which was really just a fancy word for raging hormones.
They needed to step back. Take it slow. That was what Micky wanted anyway, right?

Peter laughed to himself. Yeah that's what he said but…. Fuck the way he'd attacked him. The way he'd bit him? The way his hands had moved over Peter's body…
Maybe Micky didn't know what he wanted.

Peter breathing began to hitch as he replayed everything in his mind.
He strengthened his strokes.

And the heat coming off of him.
The look in his eyes when Peter had pinned him to the floor.
The way his body had responded to Peter's touch.
He was just asking to be opened up.
And Peter would open him up. Eventually. He was suddenly sure of it.

With that thought in mind he came violently. His body jerked and he couldn't help but let out a small cry.

When the wave passed he felt guilty.
Not guilty for his desire but guilty for imagining that Micky wanted Peter to fuck him.
Micky didn't want that.
He'd specifically specified 'no sex.'

And, in reality Peter didn't want to fuck him.
Well…maybe not in reality. But logically. Logically why would a guy ever fuck a guy? Could you really get the same intimacy that you did when you fucked a chick?
It really didn't make any sense to him. How could a guy ever enjoy being fucked?
He couldn't right?
He'd heard it hurt like hell. So why do it?
Unless there was something about it he wasn't aware of...

He cleaned himself up and looked in the mirror. He touched the spot on his neck that Micky had bit. It was turning a dark red. It was going to bruise, no doubt about it.
He liked it though. He like the way it looked. He liked seeing the visual proof of Micky's passion for him.
But it was also another reminder of how out of control things had gotten.
He sighed.

Alright. Okay…turn it down a few notches. You have to do this right. There can be no regrets. Otherwise you'll probably lose him. You can't lose him.

He nodded at himself in the mirror before opening the door and heading back to the bedroom.

.

When he walked in, Micky was lying on his back in the same position he'd been in when Peter had left. He was staring at the ceiling deep in thought.

"Hey man." Peter said.

Micky looked over at him. "Hey." He sat up.

Peter sat down on his bed across from him. "So…." He sighed, feeling embarrassed.

"So.." Micky said.

"So, I thought you wanted to take things slow." Peter laughed a short, nervous laugh."

Micky didn't seem to think it was funny. "I do." He sounded defensive. "And I thought you did too."

Peter smile faltered. "I do…I mean that's best right?

Micky hesitated and then nodded.

"Well, then … -we need to be more careful."

"Careful …yeah"

"Yeah." Peter took a deep breath and lay back on his bed.

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes.

"You know that's the most action I've gotten in almost a month." Micky blurted out.

Peter looked over sharply. "What?"

Micky looked embarrassed. "The last time was that day in Ty's bedroom."

Peter laughed. "Shit Micky!"

"Yeah… shit is right."

Peter laughed again.
Micky didn't.
Peter stopped.

"Pete?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not gay."

"I'm not either."

"So what is this then?"

"Fuck if I know."

Micky didn't say anything.

Peter glanced over. Micky seemed distraught. Peter sat back up. "Micky… who cares what this is? We don't have to fit it into some sort of box. It doesn't have to have a label."

"It doesn't?"

Peter shook his head. "No. It doesn't. Just let it be. Don't worry too much about it… We'll figure things eventually."

"We will?"

"Yeah."

Micky nodded but he didn't look convinced.

Peter smiled, trying to be reassuring. "You hungry?" He suddenly asked.

"A little."

Peter stood up. "I'm starving. I'll make us some dinner." He said as he extended his hand to Micky. "Anything you're in the mood for?"

"I guess it depends on what we've got."

They didn't have much.
But they did find a large bag of brown rice, a very small roast, some boxed wine and half an onion.

"Stir fry?" Peter asked.

Micky agreed.

Peter got to work.

.

Micky sat down at the table and propped his head up on his arm. He watched Peter put the roast in the oven and get the rice boiling. He found his eyes being continuously drawn to Peter's mouth and then down to darkening hickey on his neck.

The hickey he'd given him.
He hadn't given anyone a hickey since he was a freshmen. It seemed kind of amateur.
He hadn't meant to give Peter one. It had just happened.

But as he watched Peter dice up the onions, he had an intense desire and urge to walk over to Peter, pull him down to the floor, straddle him, and suck the hell out the opposite side of his neck.
It would balance things out.
…well, it would create symmetry on his neck anyways.

But of course he couldn't do that. That would lead to other things.
And they were going to be careful.

Careful…yeah.

Micky smiled to himself.
He didn't see them being careful for very long.

.

Mike and Davy eventually made their way to the kitchen.

"Smells good." Mike said as he sat down at the table beside Micky.

"Yeah, better that slop you made last night." Davy said, sitting on his other side.

"You know, I still don't know why I thought vodka would enhance the flavor of Cheerios."

"Well vodka enhances the flavor of everything. I guess it just depends on how you want the flavor enhanced." Peter said as he pulled the roast out.

Mike rolled his eyes.

"Maybe he was tryin' to impress Gina with his culinary skills." Davy proposed.

Mike raised his eyebrow. "Oh? And who were you trying to impress by doing cartwheels, naked, in the foyer?"

And of course that led right back in to more banter about the night before.
Mike and Peter ganged up on Davy. They explained to Micky, in great detail, all of Davy's pantless blunders.

"Oh so that's how it's gonna be?" Davy asked getting a strange gleam in his eye. "Well, if I'm gonna have to keep payin' for my harmless little oversight of proper party wear, I might as well live up to it."
He stood up and pushed his pants and boxers down in one swift motion. Then he sat back down at the table.

Mike, Micky and Peter stared at him.

Finally Mike said "For the love of god, Davy! At least put your boxers back on!"

"Why should I?"

"Because I don't want you farting on our dinner chairs. You'll probably erode the wood."

Micky and Peter started laughing.

Davy and Mike didn't. They were in a stare down.
It didn't last long though as Mike let the corner of his lip twitch, trying not to laugh.
Then Davy was rolling on the floor and Mike had his head in his hands.

Eventually the laughter abated and Davy got off the floor. He put his boxers back on but not his pants, trying to salvage a little of whatever point he'd been trying to make.

.

Finally dinner was ready and the four of them were sitting in their designated spots.
Just like they used to.
It was good.
Almost normal.
Almost normal except for Davy's missing pants.
Almost normal except that Micky was no longer in their band.
Almost normal except that it wasn't normal.
It wasn't normal at all.

As Micky and Peter sat across from each other, their eyes met… many times.
Between, 'pass the salt' and small talk about how good Peter's dinner actually was for once, their eyes carried on a conversation of their own.
They conveyed their fear and excitement
Their acceptance
Their desires
Their reassurances…

Mike and Davy didn't seem to notice.

After dinner they all pitched in on the dishes. Then they sat down in the living room and passed a joint around, shooting the shit.
Mike and Davy seemed very happy to have Micky around again.
Micky seemed happy to be around.

The tension over his retirement was gone.
They seemed to accept the fact that he'd made his decision. They didn't like it but they didn't bring it up either. Instead, focus was on rekindling the deep friendship that had grown rocky over the past month.

After a few hours Davy got up off the couch. "I think I'm goin' for a swim."

Mike looked at his watch. "Davy, it's almost midnight."

"So?"

"So the sea monsters are out."

Davy shook his head in mock annoyance before grabbing a towel from the bathroom and heading out.

"Well," Mike said after a few minutes. "You know I didn't sleep so well last night… or actually, I guess it was today. I'm gonna go try to catch up on my winks."
And with that, he left as well.

Peter and Micky were alone in the living room.

Micky's pulse quickened. He looked over at Peter.

Peter looked a little uncomfortable. "You want to watch something?" Peter asked.

Micky shook his head. "No."

Peter looked down at his hands. He took a deep breath. "Maybe we should uh… maybe we should go to bed." His eyes darted sideways at Micky.

Micky's heart stilled for a moment as he looked at Peter, trying to tell if he meant that literally or...

Peter suddenly palmed his face. "Oh god. That didn't sound right. Considering everything…" He shook his head.

Micky's heart started beating normally again although it now felt a little heavy.

"I meant to say, 'maybe we should go to sleep'."

Micky eyed him, wondering if he had intentionally misspoken and was just trying to gauge things. "Yeah, sure." Micky said, although he'd kind of hoped to do something closer to going to bed than to going to sleep.

Peter smiled sheepishly and got up to get around.

.

Peter was the last one in. As he settled into his bed, he reached over and turned off the light.

He was just dozing off when Micky said "You know you have a really big dick."
Peter's eyes snapped opened. "What?!"

Micky laughed. "Well I mean I've seen it before you know."

"Yeah?" Peter wasn't sure what Micky was getting at.

"Well now I've felt it too….you know and….it's big. I guess I just didn't think about it before."

Peter tried not to laugh but he couldn't help it. "Thanks…I guess?"

Micky laughed too. "What did mine feel like?"

"Oh my god, Micky, go to sleep." He threw his pillow at him and laughed.

"What so you're not going to tell me?"

"No." Peter said, amused.

"Why not?"

"Because…Can I have my pillow back?"

"No."

Peter laid there in the darkness looking in Micky's direction. He smiled. "Please?"

"Nope."

He lay there a few more minutes. Finally he said. "It felt…strange…nice I guess."
A few seconds later his pillow hit him in the face. "Thanks." He laughed.

"Night Pete."

"Goodnight Mick."