Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5831983.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      The_Monkees
  Relationship:
      Mike_Nesmith/Davy_Jones, Peter_Tork/Davy_Jones, Micky_Dolenz/Davy_Jones,
      Mike_Nesmith/Peter_Tork
  Character:
      Davy_Jones, Micky_Dolenz, Mike_Nesmith, Peter_Tork, OFC
  Additional Tags:
      Male_Slash, Anal_Sex, Group_Sex, Bondage, Jolenz, Jork_-_Freeform,
      jonesmith, Rough_Sexual_Play
  Series:
      Part 5 of The_Adventures_and_Perils_of_Davy_Jones
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-01-27 Words: 4519
****** When The Cat's Away ******
by htfrjolenz
Summary
     Sequel to “Accidental Lovers”
     While left to their own devices for a spell the boys get up to a
     drunken night of sexual mischief - with Davy as the party favor …
Notes
     Very VERY hardcore sexual descriptions, foul language, violent sexual
     play
     Disclaimer: I own nothing Monkees related and all of this is a work
     of fiction - it never happened except in my cracked brain. I make no
     aspersions upon anyone's sexual preferences
See the end of the work for more notes
    Tony was beside himself with excitement. Packed and ready to go, his flight
was leaving for Italy in four hours. Robbie had left the day before for Boston,
to begin his studies at the Cambridge school of law. Nicky would be leaving in
three days to start a year's training at the Greystone campus of the Culinary
Institute of America in Napa Valley. The emotional farewell dinner they'd
celebrated two days earlier had been difficult, but a proud moment for all of
them.
   Leaving Mike with temporary power of attorney over Davy, Tony gave him his
medical cards and access to enough cash to see him through for the month he'd
be away. Not wishing to trouble the boys further, he called a taxi to drive him
to the airport.
   "You behave yourself," he said to Davy, "I'll check in on you now and then.
Don't hesitate to call me kiddo if you need anything!"
   "I won't. Have a great time Tony, love you."
   "Love you too Davy."
   He turned to Nicky.
   "Nicky, mio caro ragazzo dolce, I'm so proud of you! Study hard and blow the
doors off!"
   "I will," he grinned proudly, "safe travels. I love you."
   "I love you."
   All too soon, it was time for Nicky to leave as well. Davy and the boys saw
him off at the airport, wishing him the best in his studies.
   On the way home, they made a quick pit stop at a novelty store in Sherman
Oaks. Pulling to a stop in the parking lot, Mike turned to Micky and Peter.
   "Y'all are sure bout this?"
   A blush passed Peter's cheeks as he nodded, his golden locks bobbing around
his face.
   Davy felt more than saw Micky give him a sidelong glance as he grinned at
Mike.
   "Most definitely," he said eagerly.
   "What're we on for fellas?" Davy asked, giving Micky a suspicious look.
   "Jut a lil shopping trip Tiny," Mike said in the rear-view mirror.
   He killed the motor and they stepped into the January chill. Crossing to the
sidewalk, they approached a large building with darkly tinted windows. No
advertising banners, nothing to boast the shops wares. Davy looked up at the
Purple-lettered sign declaring the establishment's name.
   "69?" He said aloud.
   "Uh yaa," Mike said, staving off a grin, "you know, 27, 43.. 69."
   "Mouthwash," Micky mumbled behind Davy.
   They walked inside and initially everything seemed normal, a bit psychedelic
perhaps - but being the youngest Davy usually just followed along learning from
his mates. The front of the store was a head shop, with hippie gear and
paraphernalia for indulging in marijuana and other recreational 'activities'.
Davy browsed through some jewelry, casually ignoring Peter's selected water
bong.
   "Back here fellas," Mike called.
   Davy followed the others through a curtained doorway to the main room of the
shop. His roommates quickly scattered in different directions leaving him to
take in the merchandise at his own leisure. He was suddenly glowing red from
forehead to feet.
   "BLOODY HELL!" He shouted, bumping into a rack of rubber vaginas.
   Three sets of giggles met his ears from various directions.
   "You okay there Davy" Micky called with a high-pitched squealing laugh.
   "Erm …”
   "Inhale," Mike snickered, "exhale."
   Struggling to regain his composure, Davy backed up against the wall behind
him. Moving just a little too quickly, he jarred the shelf and was struck with
a raining flurry of plastic packets hitting his head and shoulders. Bending to
pick one up he read the label and immediately tossed it away.
           (Edible briefs! what the-?)
   Peter appeared in his peripheral vision, grinning like a goof.
   "What's the matter Davy?"
   "Nothing, I'm.. uh nothing. Why?"
   "You look a little shocked I guess. First time?"
   A brief nod.
   "Just relax man, look around. It's just love ya know. The good stuff is in
the back," he winked.
   Shoving his hands in his pockets, the youngster ventured into the room,
extremely careful not to bump into any more artificial body parts. Eyes wide he
walked the aisles, gazing in nauseous awe at the bizarre collection of
playthings. Whips and masks, handcuffs, feathers and dozens of colorful gels
hung from racks like macabre Christmas ornaments. Electric toys and penetrating
vibrators promised to bring 'hours of pleasure' - so long as the batteries held
out.
   A large display in the center of the aisle stopped him dead in his tracks: A
metal 'swing' with black leather straps for waist, neck, ankles and wrists
boasted "the time of your life" with that dominating partner. Somehow, the idea
of being chained up suspended helpless mid-air did not bring him visions of
sunshine and rainbows.
   "I'm finished whenever y'all are," Mike called from the front of the room.
       None too soon for Davy, who high-tailed it through the curtain mumbling
that he would be outside.
   The boys made three more stops along the quiet ride home: The liquor store,
the grocery store and Peter's friend Rockets. Still sulking, Davy stayed in the
GTO until they got back to the pad. Fully intending to pout down on the beach,
Mike curtailed his disappearing act by calling him out on his share of
household duties.
   "Hold up shotgun, you can be embarrassed later. Right now the trunk is fulla
groceries," he said with a wink.
   Dutifully, Davy helped unpack the car and put the food away in the kitchen.
By the time he was through, a cold winter's rain had settled itself over Malibu
and he was stuck inside. He skulked about the house avoiding conversation,
until fed up with his childish temperament Mike spoke up.
   "Listen here Tiny, I'm terrible sorry you gotcher knickers in a knot
back'are, but it don't give you the right to act like a spoilt kid. If yore
gonna mope around the house avoiding all of us, well then go on upstairs and
take anap."
   Looking at Micky for backup, Davy realized quickly that he was outnumbered.
Even Peter was nodding his head. Grumbling under his breath he stomped up the
steps. With a caustic glance back he muttered with a scowl, "Its cuz I'm short
…" and slammed the bedroom door.
                                                                                     
*
   Hours later Davy awoke to dark skies and the aroma of fabulous food.
           (Mike is cooking!)
  Having slept off his foul mood, he bounced out of bed and trotted down to the
kitchen. Something deliciously spicy simmered on a back burner, and the smell
of seafood wafted through the air. He picked up a mingling of bananas and figs
coming from the oven, his mouth watering in anticipation. Mike was at the
counter tossing a salad, while Peter ground fresh herbs into the tea strainer.
Micky was licking freshly whipped cream from his fingertips at the table.
   "Smells great chaps, I'm stahrvin'. Anythin' I can do to 'elp?"
   "How bout takin those plates n thengs into the living room Tiny, Peter has
ever’theng already setup in there."
   "Sure Mike."
   He gathered the stack of plates and napkin-wrapped utensils and took them to
the low-sitting square table in the front room. Setting the table, he noticed
an odd shaped parcel by the ottoman, covered up with a black sheet. About to
take a peek, his curious snooping was interrupted by Mike's call from the
kitchen.
   "Davy can you come get thesalad please."
   "Right, coming."
   The others followed behind with the rest of the meal, Peter pausing to lower
the lights. Mike arranged the throw pillows from the sofas on the floor while
Peter fetched the teapot. Micky brought four cups and the whipped cream to the
table, sitting on the cushions across from Davy. Finally, Peter turned on his
cassette player, some strange middle-eastern music tinkling from its speakers:
Zither and mandolin, timpani and lyre blended into an intoxicating and
seductive melody.
   The peculiar setting and sounds intrigued the naive young Englishman,
chalking it up as just another experience of his generation he'd yet to
encounter. Peter poured steaming cups of spiced chai tea, secretly spiked with
ginseng and rum, into each of their cups. Micky dolloped on the freshly whipped
cream and sprinkled them with nutmeg.
   Mike passed the salad of watermelon and arugula with basil and pine nuts and
a strawberry-pomegranate vinaigrette. Next, he dished up hearty portions of
steamed oysters with chili peppers and toasted pepitas. The heavenly scent of
cinnamon whetted their appetites as spoonfuls of golden caramelized bananas and
figs filled the next space on each plate. Finally, from a chilled silver bowl
came plump, red cherries decadently coated in rich creamy chocolate. Passing a
dish of marinated artichokes and olives, the feast was fully laid. Davy's eyes
bulged at the array of tantalizing foods that, unbeknownst to him were said to
be aphrodisiacs of the greatest power.
   "WOW! This is some CRAZY dinnah!"
   "Everything looks wonderful Michael, doesn't it Davy?" Peter prodded.
   "It's friggin' smashing - more invitin' than Betsy's bloomers!"
   "... I reckon that’s a good theng," Mike grinned, "eat up Tiny," he winked.
   "Hey Davy," Micky held up sticky fingers, "would you mind grabbing some
extra napkins?"
   "Sure luv, be back in a jiff.”
   When Davy stepped out, Micky hurriedly stirred some white powder into his
tea, winking at Peter and Mike.
   "I brought a lot," Davy said sitting back at the table, "looks like we'll
need em."
   "Try my tea Davy."
   He took a deep drink of the steaming, heady brew, white foam etching his
upper lip.
   "Hey tha's really good wot - s'different from the tea I'm used to.”
   "It's an ancient Chinese tea, very good for.. circulation," Peter grinned.
   "I'd like s'more o'that!" Davy said, draining his cup.
       Peter happily obliged.
   Digging into the stimulating repast, Micky and his cohorts eyed the little
one intensely, eating with gusto, swallowing cup after cup of rum-laced tea.
   When they were finished, Peter helped Davy clear the table, which Mike and
Micky then moved to the corner of the room, leaving a large open area in the
middle of the floor. The two couples got comfortable lounging casually on the
floor, Peter between Mike’s legs and Davy in Micky's lap.
   Reaching into the cabinet behind him, Mike retrieved a fifth of Black Velvet
and cracked the seal. He took a long drink and passed it to Micky who downed
some himself and pressed the mouth of the bottle to Davy's lips. Tipping it
high, he gave the youth a grand dose of the stout whiskey. Not wanting to look
like a kid, Davy drank the bitter heat without objection.
   Peter pulled a paper bag from under the couch. Fascinated, Davy watched as
he filled the bong with water and packed the bowl with golden-brown buds.
Striking a lighter, the air was suddenly filled with a sweet, pungent mossy-
green scent. Peter took a long slow draw of the musky smoke and held his
breath, passing the pipe to Mike.
   The moment itself was intoxicating, the liquor working in him Davy watched
closely as each of his peers to their turn with the bong. When Micky exhaled he
took another long drag, and pressing his lips to Davy's blew the thick, heady
smoke into his open mouth.
   "Just inhale Davy," Peter instructed, "and hold it in as long as you can."
   Obediently, Davy submitted to this new and strange rite of passage, totally
unprepared for its immediate impact. Moments later, he spewed out the smoke in
a sputtering, hacking cough. Suddenly feeling very warm, he peeled out of his
shirt. The room seemed to vibrate, the music echoing in strange jerking
reverberations. He looked at Micky to be sure he wasn't losing his mind, and
the relaxed giddy smile on his face set him completely at ease.
   Mike and Peter were talking, laughing - every word and giggle seeming to
overlap the next. Davy laughed at the absurdity of the notion and the sound of
his own laughter made him laugh all the more. Micky lay back against the
cushions, taking Davy with him. Drunk and beyond mellow, it didn't register as
odd when Mike and Peter came to sit on either side of them.
   "You feelin’ good Tiny?” Mike cooed in his ear.
   "He feels real good," Micky said, placing Mike's hand on Davy's bare
stomach.
        Davy giggled.
   "Mmm so smooth and firm, check this out Cotton."
   Peter leaned over and licked a stripe up Davy's side, stopping to suck on
his left nipple.
   "Oh I bet that feels good eh babe?" Micky said, teasing his plump lips with
a delicate trace of his finger.
   "Wha's allthis?" Davy said quickly sitting upright.
   "It's just love Davy."
   "Relax babe," Micky said in a sultry whisper, just gonna have some fun,
okay?"
   He turned Davy to face him and eased him onto his back. Suddenly, Peter's
lips were pressed against his, his fingers toying with his hair. Micky reached
for the buckle on his belt, fluidly popping the clasp and opening the snap of
his jeans.
   "Mmph." Davy mumbled against Peter's kiss, his hands groping for Micky's
hands.
        Instead, he got Mikes: And a pair of leather handcuffs.
   He struggled with hands that felt like iron bars to no avail. His arms
raised easily over his head, they quickly cuffed his wrists to the legs of the
heavy oak chair above him. Twisting his wiry body, he arched his back in an
effort to free himself from the restraints.
   "Easy shotgun, simmer down. Nobody is gonna hurt you Tiny. Just be still a
minute n listen alright?"
   Panicked and breathless, Davy looked beseechingly into Micky's almond eyes.
   "Listen to me baby," Micky said leaning into his neck, "we all planned this
together. One night Davy - one night where we all wanna share you, love on you.
Make you feel SO good, little one."
   "Just a little fun Tiny, all of us together, making that fine body of yours
sing."
   Mike was softly stroking his arm, Micky gently kissing his graceful neck.
Stroking his thighs, Peter looked at him with a tranquil smile.
   "I've always wanted to do this David, share my love with the three of you."
   "Davy," Micky said, looking him in the eyes, "I'll let you up right now if
you really want me to. I swear I will. We'll stop whenever you say cookie I
promise. I'm asking you Davy; please, just give this a chance."
   His mind was a flurry of activity, looking from one to the other of his
friends. He trusted Micky - all of them really - and knew that they would
nevertruly harm him.
   Licking his lips he closed his eyes. Taking a breath that he exhaled sharply
Davy relaxed his body as much as he could. When he opened his eyes he smiled up
at his curly-haired lover.
   "Alright Micky, gimme a little more whiskey right quick n I think - I think
I can.. play along."
   Mike poured him a double shot and helped him to swallow it down. Closing his
eyes, he relaxed his legs as they tugged him out of his jeans. Micky finished
undressing him and quickly stripped out of his own clothes. He bound Davy's
ankles to the sofa legs while Peter and Mike undressed.
   Mike lifted the black sheet and brought out the bags from the adult novelty
store. Heart pounding, Davy trembled inwardly as he surveyed the items they'd
bought:
   Several bottles of flavored lubricants and some sort of spray. A black satin
blindfold and two leather belts. A studded collar and lead, a fairly large
wooden paddle, a deck of cards with writing on one side and a small leather
whip.
   Micky moved against him, gripping the erection he didn't realize he'd had.
Stroking slowly, he murmured low in his throat.
   "Hey Pete, lookie what I found waiting for you. Come over here babe."
   Peter looked up at Mike and lowering his head, he got in all fours.
   "Michael may I?"
   Davy giggled.
   "Come here Peter." Mike said sternly.
   Peter crawled to Mike like a puppy, his tail wagging in front of him.
   "Head down."
   Obediently Peter dropped his head, submitting himself to Mike's bidding.
   Snapping the lead onto the collar, Mike placed the studded black band around
Peter's neck, handing the leash to Micky.
   "Do as Micky tells you." Mike commanded, "Or suffer the consequences!"
   "Come here Peter, and suck Davy's dick."
   Peter turned and Micky yanked on the lead.
       CRACK!
   Mike swung the paddle hard against the blonde’s bare ass.
   "Move faster babe."
   A sudden tingling warmth invaded Davy's entire groin as Peter wrapped his
lips snugly round the head of his cock. Slowly sucking him in until he was
buried to the hilt and tortuously back up again.
   "Tastes good, doesn’t he Pete.”
   "Mmmm mmhhm."
   "Feels good too eh Tiny?" Mike said, harshly pinching his nipple.
   "Ngaooow!" Davy moaned.
   Peter was sucking the life out of Davy, driving him to jerking and writhing
on the floor.
       CRACK!
   "Slow it down shotgun, ain't no fire."
   Peter complied, reducing his ministrations to a leisurely pace.
   Micky and Mike began kissing Davy on his neck and chest, creating sensations
his mind could barely register. Their tongues met and they kissed briefly,
making certain that Davy was watching.
   Mike whispered to Davy in an even commanding tone.
   "I'm going to untie you for now. You WILL do what you are told, understand?
If you don't, I will have to punish you."
   Davy nodded, the forceful fire in Mike's eyes both frightening him and
building his desire. Suddenly his hands and legs were free.
   "Peter is working very hard, he should be rewarded!" Micky said grinning
wickedly.
   "Davy - masturbate Peter." Mike ordered.
   Slowly Davy reached out and took Peter's throbbing manhood into his grasp.
He thumbed the leaky head seductively and it pulsed appreciatively in his hand.

   "Too dry," Davy groaned.
   Micky tossed him a bottle of lube and squeezing a blob of the slippery gel
into his palm, he quickly remedied the situation.
   "Heads or tails Mick?" Mike offered.
   "I think definitely heads."
   Trading places, Mike moved between Davy's knees, keenly watching as Peter
sucked his tool from the side. Straddling his chest, Micky stroked his own
engorged erection.
   "You want some of this?" He teased, rubbing the tip against Davy's eager
lips.
   Angling upward Davy reached his mouth for the throbbing prize in front of
him, tongue extended, eager to have a taste. Micky roughly shoved him down by
the forehead, smacking him in the chin with his hardness.
   "Un uh, you didn't ask for it."
   Below him, Mike lubed himself, eager to bury his cock in the tight channel
waiting below. Hungry with desire he called up every ounce of self-control,
waiting for just the right moment. Davy tossed his head from side to side,
Peter's ministrations edging him into waves of heated pleasure.
       SMACK
   "ANSWER when you're spoken to," Mike ordered, slapping his meaty outer
thigh.
   "I want it Micky." Davy moaned.
   "You need to ask nicely," Micky said, twisting a tiny nipple, "and sound
like you MEAN it."
       SMACK!
   Mike slapped him again, harder this time.
   "Why are you not jerking off PETER?"
   "I - 'es distracting me n-"
   "I told you to do as you're told Tiny. Now I have to punish you. Peter,
stop!"
   Peter immediately sat at attention, waiting or further instructions from his
dominating lover. Mike hoisted Davy's legs in the air, drawing back the leather
whip in his powerful right hand.
   "Count ‘em Davy," he ordered.
   The whistling rush as leather cut air both excited and intimidated the young
man now in his friend’s control. The lash stung sharply as it bit into his
skin, and he bucked in Michael's grip.
        WHOOSH-CRACK!
   "UGH - One!"
        WHOOSH -CRACK!
   "OH! TWO!"
        WHOOSH-CRACK!
   "THREE! - ohPLEASE Mike!"
   He released his legs and came to him, kissing away the pain.
   "Be good now, okay?" He whispered.
   "Yes," Davy nodded.
   As he moved back to his place between Davy's thighs Mike shoved Peter's face
first back into position.
   "Suck him!" He said, and Peter resumed.
   Fearing the whip Davy reclaimed the missile that hung at his side, stroking
Peter to a symphony of groans.
   "Where were we," Micky impishly grinned, "Ahh yes, you were saying little
one?"
   Through half-lidded eyes and a drunk and high haze, Davy struggled to find
his tongue. Grunting them out between Peter's licks, he carefully chose his
words.
   "Please Micky, baby, I - I want to taste your.. juicy cock."
   "Mmmm," Micky moaned, rubbing his shaft on the warm waiting lips, "tell me
what you're going to do."
   "I'm gonna lick you long and slow from yer pubes to the tip. Kissing and
swirling my tongue on the head."
   Micky bit his tongue till the blood came, to keep from exploding in the
Englishman's face.
   "Go on." Mike moaned from behind his friend.
   "I'll suck you in and drink you down, pleasin' every inch of you. N whenever
you want, you can take charge - shovin' it into me hard n deep - till yer ready
to shoot it all, hot on my tongue. "
   "Sweet Jesus." Mike said under his breath.
   "Oh PLEASE Micky, please give it to me!" Davy pleaded.
   He opened his mouth, licking his lips and flicked his tongue on the tip of
his lover's dick. A crazed, hungry growl erupted as beyond his endurance Micky
arched forward and into the waiting wetness. Simultaneously, Mike threw both
young legs over his shoulders and slammed his huge length into the tight pucker
of Davy's perfect ass.
   "OMNGH!" Came Davy's strangled cry, as the multiple pleasures and erotic
pains sought to fragment his intoxicated mind.
   He fisted frantically at Peter's swollen rod, as his body became one huge
nerve alive with ecstasy. Micky moaned, hands pulling at chocolate hair as he
pumped his shaft into the tight socket of the silken throat below him. Peter
sucked hungrily at Davy's cock faster - deeper - feeling him pulse in advance
of exploding with a fevered lust. Mike, bearing witness to all these shameless
acts was stoked to a greedy, fiery need. Driving his full enormity in the tiny
suffering slippery channel to draw back entirely and slam it harder still.
   Peter issued an incoherent litany of passionate sounds as Davy worked with
magic hands. Ignited by his amorous moans, Michael issued a stinging slap
across his collared lover's raised bottom. The painful strike pushed Peter over
the edge. He blew hard into Davy's frenzied fingers, his orgasm driving him to
suck frantically on the younger man's trigger-ready penis.
   "NOBODY stops till I SAY!" Mike commanded.
   Davy came hard. Peter - still cumming - swallowed his flow, continuing to
torture the pleasure from his screaming cock. Now lying fully on top of him,
Micky deep-throated his way to a mind-numbing orgasm, spraying his hot cum down
Davy's tight, convulsing throat.
   The three of them brinking on agony, Mike drank in their cries for mercy and
moans of rapture. Closing his eyes, he pummeled the rosy bottom with a cruel
and thirsty abandon, ignoring the painful pleas of his tiny captive. With a
growl and grunt he buried himself in the velvet heat, flooding his nectar into
the trembling body beneath him.
   "ENOUGH!" He called, collapsing to the floor.
   The sweaty, panting sated throng lay heaped together in a state of carnal
bliss beyond anything they had ever known. Mike stared at the ceiling, chest
heaving and glossy-eyed, an ethereal euphoria on his handsome face. Peter
sprawled across Davy's middle, his body still twitching with the aftershocks of
orgasmic sensation. Micky lay on his side curled against his little one, a
giddy, clouded expression on his placid countenance. Davy lay in a near
catatonic physical exhaustion. Sweat-soaked and trembling, tears of forced
ecstasy ran sideways down his face.
        They slept.
   Davy awoke late, in his room. Fully pajama’d, he searched his memory trying
to recall going to bed. Padding down the stairs in bare feet, he found the
beach house clean, void of any signs of the night’s escapades. The sound of
laughter drew him to the back veranda, where his three bandmates sipped coffee
in casual conversation. He stepped outside.
   "Hey there sleepy head," Micky greeted.
   "Morning Davy," Peter smiled.
   "Afternoon is more like it," Mike grinned.
   "Come, sit." Micky patted his knee.
   Davy sat in Micky's lap, eyeing his roommate’s oddly casual demeanors.
   "You okay Tiny? You look a little off there partner."
   Micky felt his forehead in search of a fever, shrugging its non-existence.
   "Me?" Davy squawked, "Whas’sa matter with you fellas?"
   The trio looked innocently at one another, and back at their junior member.
   "Whatta ya mean Davy?" Micky asked in confusion.
   Now on his feet Davy began to rant.
   "I mean you three! Sittin 'ere sippin this mud, nattering on about the
weather n laughing as if LAHST NIGHT didn't 'appen!"
   The three musicians blinked up at him mutely.
   "You musta had some kinda dream or something Davy."
   "For real.”
   "Tiny we were all in bed by ten o'clock."
   "Have you all gone mad? We had this incredible dinnah and got drunk and
high! Then we ..."
   The way they stared at him made him swallow his words. He couldn't bring
himself to say anymore, not if nobody remembered it but him.
   "Then we what?" Mike prodded.
   "Nothing. It must've been.. I need some coffee."
   He fled their gazes and moped on into the kitchen.
           (I guess I'm off mebird)
   He poured a steaming cup of the rich brew and spooned in some sugar. Opening
the Frigidaire to get some milk his eyes widened.
           (Those lousy buggers!)
       There on the shelf was a half-empty bowl of whipped cream.
   He spooned a heaping blob on top of his coffee and marched out onto the
terrace. Sitting on the ground in the center of his friends, he dipped a finger
into the sweet, creamy foam and sucked it in his mouth.
        Nobody said a word.
   "Batshitcrazy am I? Had meself a dream?”
   Peter squirmed uncomfortably. Mike began to whistle, staring around the
small porch as if taking it in for the first time.
Davy turned his rankled gaze on Micky and raised a questioning eyebrow.
   "Okay so we weren't sure how you were gonna feel about last night now that
you're sober and it's daylight."
   Mike and Peter looked guiltily at their feet.
   "I'm sorry Tiny."
   "Me too Davy"
   Feigning offense, Davy stood and walked to the railing, his back to them. He
stared silently out across the sand, his head down, hiding a mischievous grin.
   "There's only one thing I can say to you fellas," he said in a distant tone.

   "Davy," Micky said softly, "we're honestly really sorry."
   Masking his game, he turned to them and scowled.
   "So am I."
        Silence.
   Busting into an impish smile he pointed a wagging finger.
   "Cuz NEXT time it won't be ME on the bottom!"
   Laughing hysterically and slapping a hand on his knee, he gave a sexy, shy
leer to his mates.
   "You rotten little shit!" Mike ruffled his bed-messy hair.
   "Damn Dave you really had me goin!" Micky smiled, relieved.
   "Hey Michael?" Peter asked earnestly.
   "Yaa shotgun?"
   "Next time I wanna be it!"
End Notes
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