monkeeing around
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Next door, Mike is trying to write a song. Next door, Mike is trying to write a song, and his neighbor Peter is getting lucky. Next door, Mike is trying to figure out a chord progression while Peter’s lucky suitor of the night is carrying on so loudly that it genuinely blows Mike’s mind. He’s heard some of Peter’s conquests before. He’s never seen this Peter, but he must be really good at his job. Because every few months, somebody next door is acting like they’ve just seen the second coming of Christ.
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Davy had brought it up merely as a joke one day, somewhere in the late 1980’s, after his fiancé (he lost count which number this was) had called off the wedding. “Crazy how we always jus’ seem to come back to one another, yeah?” he said ruefully over a cup of morning tea.
It stunned them when he said it out loud. They had thought about it before, curiously, as Monkees do. But having it said aloud made it come full circle for them.
No one had anything to add to that until Peter took the initiative.
“Then let’s just stay together.”
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The shower curtain opened.
“Yeah?” Peter asked.
Davy had come in to ask him a question, but those thoughts died when he saw Peter. His wet, soapy skin glistened in the bathroom light, making him look even more attractive than usual, and Davy couldn’t help but stare. -
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The sun shone down on Southern California like any other December morning would have, but this was special because it was shining down on the Monkees, all curled up in bed.
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Micky attempted to climb into Mike’s lap as he sat in a chair reading the paper. “Whatcha doing, Mike?” he asked, limbs sticking out everywhere, and Mike put the paper down so he could grab ahold of Micky, both to help situate him better and just for the sake of holding him.