"Steve's having a party Saturday night," announced Micky after practice. "Supposed to be lots of groovy girls there." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Davy and Peter were silent briefly, before snapping out of it and realizing they should be acting excited.

"Neat," managed Peter.

Davy tried his damndest to look interested. He was still astonished that the thought of girls held no appeal for him. How could it have left so quickly? Even though, he was petrified of being alone with Peter. What a mess he'd gotten himself into.

"I'll be there!" said Davy. "Wouldn't miss it." The only consolation was this was only Monday, and he had five days to get used to the idea.

Peter sliced a glance in Davy's direction, trying to get a feel for what was going through the Englishman's mind, but Davy's face was stoically revealing nothing.

Mike was excited, although you couldn't really tell because of his usual reserved demeanor. But the boys knew him well enough to know he would be there. He didn't care for large groups, instead preferring to find a girl he liked, and find a quiet corner to talk. That was his style, but it had never been Davy's. He was usually in the center of a bunch of girls, whether he wanted to be or not. The girls just appeared wherever he was. In the past, he'd loved the female attention, ate it right up, but right now the thought of female attention wasn't the least bit appealing. Peter was almost painfully shy with girls, even having to be coaxed in order to go over and talk to one.

As for Micky, he was the life of the party. Always entertaining everyone in any manner he could think of, whether that be making funny faces, doing silly dances or telling jokes. Sometimes he even jumped on the furniture. He'd learned to take his shoes off though. If you wanted your party to be a success, inviting Micky was mandatory.

Davy dreaded bedtime. He wanted to be close to Peter-share with him the desire Peter had shown for him. Make love to Peter the way Peter had loved him last night. But a cold claminess overcame him every time he thought of actually doing it...

Yes, he wanted to taste Peter-make Peter feel the way Peter had made him feel. Give in to it, let go, in Peter's words. But what if he found that he just couldn't? The reluctance was hard and unyielding. What if he had to pull away? There would be no graceful way out of it. And much more importantly, no way to avoid hurting Peter.

Jones, you need to man up here and decide what you want! You know what it's like to suffer from wanting someone. Now don't do the same thing to Peter! You're the one who started this whole thing after all!

It was ironic-here he finally had what he'd been yearning for for so long, and now he didn't think he could ever follow up on it. It bugged the shit out of him and made him furious with himself. And now he had an upcoming party on his shoulders as well...not liking girls, wanting Peter. Oh, what a fun party that would be, he thought sarcastically to himself.

Peter sensed Davy's agitation as bedtime approached. He didn't know whether Davy was just nervous, or had decided this thing between them hadn't been such a good idea after all. Peter though, being the patient, considerate being he was, would just wait until Davy came to grips with himself. Peter might have approached him about it, just to reassure him, but he couldn't think of the right words to say. How do you articulate something like that? I loved what happened last night, and I sense you are conflicted about it, but don't worry, I'll be supportive in whatever you decide? Goofy! No, it was best if he didn't say anything at all.

Davy was Peter's best friend, and it didn't matter to Peter if they didn't have sex, or even if they never kissed or even touched again. It would be difficult, but he'd accept that if that was what Davy wanted. Their friendship would always come first.

Peter's body language spoke volumes as they dressed for bed. He was tense and clumsy. He was extra careful with what came out of his mouth, making no references to the night before, and acting as casual as he could. As if nothing had ever happened between them.

Davy avoided looking at him, but out of the corner of his eye, noticed Peter slipped underwear on, as he usually did for bed. He always said it was in case of a fire. With a deep sigh, Davy kept his on. If Peter had omitted the underwear, Davy would have secretly been on the edge of panic. They went to their respective beds, both wanting to discuss it, but no one had the courage to bring the subject up. So they climbed into bed and the light went out, leaving two very aroused guys alone and very restless in their own beds.

A couple of days went by, and Peter and Davy never alluded to what had happened between them. Peter kept getting vibes off Davy, telling him he'd better back off and give Davy space and time. It was funny how this was evolving-Davy had been the one with a crush on Peter, and now it was Peter who was unbearably eager to further explore their mutual attraction. Peter honored Davy's vibes though, and backed off completely.

Before long, Peter started getting these disconcerting, cryptic looks from Davy that he couldn't decode. He felt Davy's eyes on him frequently, but when he'd turn his head in Davy's direction, Davy would quickly look away. So quickly that Peter wouldn't have seen it at all if Davy's hair hadn't swung with the motion.

And Peter did notice that hungrily-the fact that Davy's hair was a little longer than normal. He liked it that way. It went a couple inches over his collar-almost to his shoulders. That Edwardian look. Hot.

A couple more days, and Davy was allowing his gaze to linger a little longer, and Peter, as shy as he was, forced himself to return the looks. He wanted Davy to know he was still serious, still wanted him. It took all Peter had, but he didn't look away. It was no easy feat, as Davy could throw some serious looks when he wanted to. Looks that could make you melt inside, or wilt-depending on the particular look. It floored Peter to realize his cock was stiffening from these stares they shared. Not a single physical touch between them-in fact, from 10 or even 20 feet or more away, Davy could meet his eyes and Peter would feel the desire burning from his crotch all the way down into his toes.

Sometimes the stares would last as long as a couple of minutes, and if Mike or Micky, or both, were in the room, it didn't seem to matter to Davy. These looks were hard core. Good or bad, Peter just wished to God he knew what they meant.

On the Friday night before the party, both were sitting on the couch. Peter and Mike were in the kitchen, trying to think up something to fix for dinner. Peter's cream of root beer hadn't been very satisfying or filling, so they were thinking of trying something like mustard soup. With crackers, it might not be so bad.

Peter felt those dark, relentless eyes on him again. They were sitting about 3 feet apart. Peter turned his head to see Davy concentrating, apparently attempting to see into Peter's soul. Peter returned the gaze, and casually stretched his arm that was closest to Davy over the back of the couch, his hand almost, but not quite, reaching Davy. He lacked a couple of inches. Davy didn't move his head, but his eyes shifted to Peter's hand. Peter grinned. It was an impish grin, and Peter had no idea what it did to Davy.

Davy felt his cheeks flush hot and pink, felt his crotch tighten. He got that "tingly" feeling that Peter had spoken of. Yes, in his cock, but also in his heart.

The party was indeed chock full of attractive girls, as Micky had stated. Blondes, brunettes, redheads, short, tall, skinny and voluptuous. Something for everyone... except Davy and Peter.

It didn't take long. Only minutes after they'd arrived at the party, Peter spied Davy, as usual, in the center of a rolling sea of girls. At least it seemed that way. Maybe it was an exaggeration to say a rolling sea, but there were at least eight or ten, not counting the ones on the sidelines watching, but too bashful to approach. Mike was scouting around for a promising female companion to talk to, and Micky, who hadn't even had anything alcoholic to drink yet, was burning off excess energy by imitating an inch worm on the floor, much to the delight of his mostly female audience.

Peter sat alone, not talking to anyone. He didn't feel comfortable, but didn't want Davy to see his dilemma, so he went to the bathroom to kill some time. He splashed cold water on his face and looked into the mirror, combing his hair yet again, hoping he looked decent enough for Davy.

Davy saw Peter come out of the restroom. Man, but he looked scrumptious! Davy took in the dark blue velour pullover sweater and snuggly fitting pants, sans underwear as usual, along with the stylish boots Peter had saved for for many months. The sideways belt buckle, as always. Sharp. Unique. Mouth watering.

The click of Peter's boot heels on the linoleum floor before he hit the carpet. The sound reverberated in Davy. Even that turned Davy on. Sexy as all hell.

He also couldn't help but notice Peter sitting alone, looking very stiff and ill at ease. As if he were out of place. Davy swam through the sea of girls to get to Peter. A couple of them grabbed onto his arm as if to hold him back. Others tried to start a conversation with him, and still others deliberately stood in front of him to stop his progress, pretending that they didn't know they were blocking him.

He finally got around them and sat down next to Peter. Peter's eyes took in every inch of him, trying not to be overly obvious. He'd seen Davy navigating toward him, and his heart had started thudding immediately. Davy was wearing a pullover sweater too, but his was white, and it showed off his shiny dark hair to perfection. And the blue pants showed Davy's butt off all too well. Peter had noticed that well before they'd even left the Pad to come to the party. Davy had the nicest butt on the planet. Peter thought about sinking his teeth into it. Playfully, of course.

"You were staring me down from across the room," said Peter.

"I saw you alone over here, and the girls are giving me fits."

"Thanks for coming over, man."

"I wanted to." Davy's blunt statement made Peter feel special.

Peter smiled at Davy, and his dimple went into action. Wrong move. Peter, still being oblivious to the appeal of his dimple, was startled when a girl squealed from not three feet away.

"Did you see that? Just look at his dimple!" She'd tried to say it quietly to her friend, but it reached Peter's ears as well as Davy's and a few other girls in the immediate vicinity. Suddenly, half a dozen girls were staring at Peter and his dimple.

One girl whispered into another's ear- something like "look how cute that quiet, shy guy is!" Comments flitted around like lightning, and before Peter and Davy knew it, one girl was perched on either of the couch's arms and two had squeezed in between them, all straining to catch another glimpse of Peter's dimple.

Peter threw Davy a dazed, questioning look.

"For Christ's sake, Peter! Don't you see what's happening? Scowl or something!" Davy leaned over a girl, whispering in his ear, making Peter get those pesky goose bumps again.

Well, Davy had a lot more experience with women than Peter did, so he must know what he was talking about, reasoned Peter. He stopped smiling immediately and performed the best scowl he could manage at the nearest girl. All she did was giggle. And snuggle closer to him.

Oh shit, thought Davy. Now she's hooked, and Peter'll have a hell of a time getting away from her without being rude. And anyone who was acquainted with Peter knew that asking him to be rude would be a hopeless endeavor. Davy quickly wracked his brain for some way out of this.

"Oops! Time to go!" Davy got up abruptly, grabbing Peter's sleeve.

"But the party just started!" one of the girls whined.

Davy sidled in close to the girl who had commented, saying in a low voice only she could hear, "Peter and I are going to get a beer. Together." He wiggled his eyebrows expressively, much the same way Micky had when telling them about the party, took Peter's arm and eased him smoothly toward the beer keg. There was no way in this world the girl could not have understood what Davy had implied. Davy also knew that the girl would spread the word in about 10 seconds flat.

Wow, but Davy was a smooth operator! Peter marveled at the magic Davy had just generated. He'd gotten them away, but still, Davy had said something softly in that girl's ear.

"What did you say to her?" asked Peter, jealousy stabbing at him, even as he tried to push it away. He'd seen Davy leaning in close to her, and it had instantly concerned him.

"Let's just say I hinted strongly about our sexuality." Davy wiggled his eyebrows yet again, but this time directly at Peter.

Relief flooded through Peter like cool, refreshing water. He'd never heard more beautiful words. How thoughtful of Davy to get him out of that sticky situation. And even more thoughtful of him to imply to a perfect stranger that he and Peter had something going on! It made Peter feel strangely proud that Davy was acting possessive of him, even if it had just been to rescue him. He smiled, not knowing what else he should do for the moment.

Davy's deed worked. The girls didn't approach them again. What's more, Davy made sure that no girls who hadn't heard the news bothered them either. He stood very close to Peter-closer than if they had just been friends. He also gave Peter his sole attention, touching him frequently on the arm, and practicing that wonderful stare into Peter's eyes. Anyone looking on would assume they were lovers. Peter didn't have to put any effort into returning all the attention Davy was showering on him. It just happened.

Peter was truly amazed. He'd sensed that Davy had been scared out of his wits at the thought of intimacy with him, yet here he was, at a party no less, with eyes only for Peter, and apparently not the least bit shy about it either.

Mike had found a young lady and had her engaged in an animated conversation, and Micky was vying for the attention of three or four girls simultaneously. So, at least for now, neither of them noticed how semi-obvious Davy was being about putting on a show of seducing their fellow bandmate. If they had seen it, they wouldn't have been able to believe their eyes.

Davy didn't think anything was going to happen with Peter, as he was still scared stiff of certain sexual thoughts, but he could flirt with him here and save them both from girls, since it was pretty obvious girls just weren't in the picture anymore for either one of them. He could kiss Peter later, and enjoy the hell out of it, but as far as sex went... well, it would unfortunately have to be a one-way street. If Peter still wanted him, and he was pretty sure he did, then he might be able to give Peter some loving relief with his hand, but that would have to be the extent of it. He desired Peter as much as he had weeks, months ago. But he just couldn't go through with... certain things. Even as Davy realized how selfish he was being, the simple fact was, he just couldn't help it.

They stood there talking casually, drinking beer and just enjoying each other's company. Mike and Micky would occasionally check in, asking why Davy and Peter weren't mingling with the girls.

"There's a rumor going 'round, you know," said Davy.

"What's that?" asked Mike.

"That we're gay. I told some girls we were to get them off our backs." Davy told Mike this to soften the blow when Mike heard it from someone at the party, which would surely happen sooner or later. They had friends there, and Mike and Micky would need to snuff out the rumor.

Mike laughed softly. "You gotta do what you gotta do when you're that irresistible," he said and walked back to his female companion with a smile on his face. He was well accustomed to the stares and oohs and ahhhs every time he went anywhere with Davy. He guessed sometimes an adorable fellow just needed a break!

Peter and Davy talked and sipped beer until they'd had three each, and Davy decided it was time to stop before he got tipsy. Davy didn't want to take any chances. Remembering the day in the park, he was uncomfortably aware that alcohol would make him even more horny for Peter than he already was.

They ended up leaving the party early. Very early. Mike and Micky were stunned.

"Why are you leaving before ten with all the groovy chicks here? Are you insane?" asked Micky.

"Just not feelin' it tonight," offered Davy. Not a good excuse, but he didn't know what else to say.

"And I'm too shy to stay here without David," said Peter.

Micky shrugged. "Oh well. That just leaves more for me and Mike," he said, giving Mike an evil conspiratory look. "I hate it when you take all the girls away from me anyway." And with that, Micky went back to his audience to do more entertaining. Mike went back to his young lady sitting on the couch, waiting patiently for him.

They bypassed the Monkeemobile in the parking lot.

"Why don't we just drive home?" said Peter.

"Pete-think a minute. How would Mike and Micky get home? Besides, its less than a mile. We can walk home in no time."

"Okay," said Peter, just grateful to have an excuse to spend more time with Davy.

As they walked, Peter commented on the girls at the party. "Man, I don't see how you do it, David. Those girls were too much for me tonight, and you have to put up with it all the time."

Davy shrugged. "When you're interested in them, its fun," he said simply.

"Well I felt like I'd better run just as fast as I can, and hide my head in the sand."

The looked at each other, smiled and said, "That sounds familiar" in unison.

"You gotta learn to keep that dimple in check or you will end up like me," admonished Davy.

"With girls after me?"

Davy nodded. "Its lethal," he said. "The dimple, that is. It makes your stomach jump right up into your throat." Davy blushed, realizing he'd just admitted to Peter that his dimple affected him in the same way.

Words suddenly poured out of Peter's mouth without his permission, before he could thwart them. "I have this tremendous urge," he said, then felt the heat climbing up his neck -embarrassment. His voice had been thick with desire, and he knew the quick Brit had not missed it.

"Go on mate, what is it?" Davy's pulse quickened before the words were hardly out of Peter's mouth. Peter was going to make a pass at him, and Davy was enticed, but there was still that trace of ambivalence. That fear...

As they stopped walking, Davy's eyes locked with Peter's, Davy saw the warmth there. Not just the lust. And something else too, something that didn't have a name.

"I need... I need... to kiss you."