Work Text:
Peter’s long fingers travel through Davys hair, chestnut locks long enough to be splayed out across the bed sheets as he lay. Peter has his guitar in hand, and a small pad of paper on his thigh as he tries to drum up anything to write about. His muse always seems to be Davy, but lately he’s been feeling guilty for something, he had been too scared to bring it up, but there is no time like the present. “David?”
Davy looks up at Peter, his freckles dark from his days spent in the summer sun. “Mhhm.” He groggily mumbles, still half asleep from his nap.
“I've been meaning to talk to you.” Peter looks down at his pad of paper, cluttered with half formed ideas.
Davy pulls his body off the bed to sit up. He cocks his head slightly to the side as he gives Peter a puzzled look, eyes still heavy-lidded from sleep. “About what?”
Peter reaches out to grasp Davy’s hand, two sets of thin fingers interlocking. “Does it make you sad when I have to call you a girl in songs I write? I know Micky doesn’t really mind when Mike writes songs for him. But I’ve been feeling down because I thought it might be different for you, because you were a girl for a long time and now you're not and everything...” Peter realizes he’s rambling, and quickly looks down from Davy’s face to their connected hands, “I’m sorry Davy.”
“Don’t be sorry, love. It's not the greatest feeling, sure, but that's just how things roll. You can’t exactly go around saying you're going steady with another man. Even if you yourself are both girl and boy. I don’t mind all that much Pete, every song you write for me is special either way.”
Peter’s eyes well with tears, always quick to show his heart on his sleeve, “ But it hurts you David? Doesn't it?”
Davy tries to brush it off with a smile but even with his struggles to understand cues, Peter can see through the facade. “I suppose it does.”
They sit there, awkwardness stale in the air as the gears in Peter's brain begin to turn. He shoots off the bed, “I have a wonderful idea David!” He grasps Davy’s hands and flaps his fingers, drumming a beat on the backs of Davy’s hands. His head bobs side to side, reminiscent of how he plays his bass. The others had noticed it was a side effect of his excitement on account of living with him for years.
Peter's energy is infectious and causes Davy to grin at his lover. With a chuckle he asks, “What is it Pete?”
Peter smiles wide, happy he could make Davy laugh. “It's a surprise, silly! You're gonna have to wait.”
Still sitting on the bed, Davy gazes up at Peter, “Oh Peter! You know how I hate surprises. I'm far too impatient.” He whines but his smile is wide as ever.
Peter bounced on the balls of his feet, swaying happily. “I'm sorry David! This is too important to spoil, Do you know if Michael is home?”
“Yeah he said he was gonna go pen out some songs on the porch and that we are not to bother him unless the house catches on fire, or you fall down the stairs again… Hey wait! Are you gonna tell Mike what this surprise is and not me?” Davy puts on a face of mock hurt.
Peter grabs his guitar from the corner of the room and heads out the door, “I'm sorry Davy-baby!” The use of the nickname causes Davy to blush and shake his head at his wonderful lover.
***
Peter opens the door to the porch cautiously, not wanting to startle Mike out of a good lyric. The door hinges squeak but he speaks softly, “Michael?”
Mike looks up from his notepad, “Is everything alright Pete?”
“Yeah, everything is groovy.” Peter takes a cross legged seat next to Mike, on the wooden deck. Placing his guitar and song book gingerly down before he sits. He begins tracing the grain in the wood with his fingers, pinching up windswept sand that made its way to the porch.
“So, why are you out here Peter? I don’t mind and all, it's just I've been trying to write. It's a little harder with you down here.”
Peter's head shoots up from where his eyes were fixed on the ground, “Oh! I'm sorry Michael! I nearly forgot, thank you for reminding me. I need some help with a song?”
“Well, you came to the right fella.” He takes his acoustic off his lap. “ What's so special about this song then?”
Peter blushes and starts to play with his hands, “ I want to write something for Davy, something real good.”
“Well you’ve written tons of songs for Davy, babe. What’s so important about this one that you need my help?”
“All the songs I’ve written for him were for the band. Ones that I had to call him a girl so that we could play em.” Peter picks at his nails, “I wanna write a song just for us.”
“So, why do you need my help, shotgun?” Mike cocks his head quizzically, “You're a great songwriter Pete. And if it's just for the two of you, wouldn't it be a lot more special if you wrote it yourself? I'll tell you what, if you start writing and can't think of anything good, come find me, ok?”
Peter’s eyebrows lift at the tails, something that happens when he thinks. “Ok, Michael.” He pulls himself up from where he is sitting on the weathered porch with a grunt, “I think you're right. Thank you.”
“Of course babe,” Peter makes his way to the door back inside, “ Oh and Pete-” Peter pauses his steps and twists his head to look back at Mike, “When you finish, I would be honored if you would play it for me.”
Peter shoots back a sunny smile, and heads inside, guitar and notebook in hand.
***
Peter pushes an open palm against the bedroom door, already ajar. Davy lays on his bed, feet swinging in the air as he flips through a magazine. Peter closes the door again, it squeaks on its hinges and doesn't fully close, but Davy is too absorbed in his magazine to notice anything.
Peter continues the hunt for an open room, the living room not a viable option being so close to the room Davy was in.
He soon finds himself in the bathroom, sitting cross legged on the cold tiled floor of the cramped room. It was perfect! The acoustics are always best in the bathroom.
He stares down at his song book, writing anything that comes to mind. Snippets of phrases flow into his head and onto the pages. He loses some into the air above his head but he manages to catch most of them before they get snatched by the summer breeze.
“C’mon gang!” Mike’s voice carries throughout the pad, “Dinner is served!”
Peter swears he had only been in the bathroom for a half an hour at most but with a quick check of his watch he soon learns that's not the case. He had been there for about four hours.
As soon as Peter leaves the bathroom, Micky nearly collides head on with him. “Finally!” He shuts and locks the door but doesn't stop talking. “Jeez Pete! You were in here for hours! We only have one bathroom, you know!”
Peter eyes the door, as if he could see Micky right through it, “I'm awful sorry Micky! Knock next time, I'll be sure to let you in!”
Mike guides Peter over to the kitchen table, taking his songwriting things and placing them on a chair. “He did! About 30 times too. I was about to bust down the door til I remembered what you were doing in there. You can't interrupt songwriting I always say! I told Mick to just go behind the bushes out back but he wasn't too keen on the idea.” Peter laughs as Mike hands him the things to set the table with. “You must have really been in the zone there Pete. Hopefully it's something good.” Mike winks.
“What's all the commotion then?” Davy asks, descending the stairs.
Micky comes out into the kitchen with the click of the door, “No point explaining. But look man! Mike made spaghetti!”
Davy rolls his eyes making Peter giggle, “The finest American delicacy.”
They ate their dinner amongst chatter and laughter. Amidst the chaos, Peter leans in close and whispers into Mike’s ear, “Is there anyway you could get David outta the house for an hour or so. I really wanna finish our song tonight!
“I gotcha buddy.” Mike pats Peter's knee and switches his attention to the gang. “Who wants to go out?”
Davv narrows his eyes, “It depends, you're not gonna take us with you for some wacky adventures right? Wait for the camera crew to do something like that!”
“I was thinking we could go for ice cream, but if yall dont wanna…”
Micky’s eyes light up with the idea of a treat.. “Really? What about the cost?”
“We have been getting some pretty good gigs lately, what's the harm!” Mike smiles.
In a flash, Micky is standing at the door, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
Mike chuckles, “Better put on your jacket Mick, we're walkin’.”
He dons his coat as if in a montage and within seconds both him and Davy are standing next to the door, ready to go.
“I think I'm gonna stay here fellas.” Peter looks up from the table, “Ice cream doesn't like me very much and somebody has to clean up from dinner anyway. You guys have fun though!”
Davy looks at him with a confused stare, “All right love, if you're sure..” he takes a few steps closer to Peter. “I'll try to bring you back something sweet.” He presses a light kiss onto Peter’s nose and whispers, “Just like you.”
Peter’s cheeks blush red as Micky fake gags. “Get a room, you two!” He tugs on the arm of Mike's jacket, “Let's get going gang! Bye bye Pete!”
“Goodbye Michael! Goodbye Micky! Goodbye David!” Peter never likes to leave anyone out.
The door shuts and Peter runs for his guitar, He doesn't know how much time he has until they come back!
***
About an hour later the door clicks open and three boys come spilling out into the main room. Peter snaps his song book closed and stands from where he was in the middle of the living room floor.
Davy manages to get out quickly, “I thought you were gonna clean up from dinner Pete-” before the blonde man takes him by the hand and guides him into their shared bedroom.
Micky gives Mike a quizzical glance before Mike knowingly suggests, “let's head upstairs?”
In the confines of their bedroom, Peter guides Davy to the bed, criss crossing his own legs on the mattress.
“I have your surprise David.” Davy closes his eyes and holds out his hands in anticipation. “Not that kind of surprise, silly! I wrote something for you!”
Davy opens his eyes to see Peter with his guitar in hand and his little red songbook laid upon the bed. He tries to spin the book around to look at the lyrics but Peter playfully slaps his hand away, “Nuh-uh. You have to listen.” Peter's soft brown eyes shine from the glow of his guitar as he begins to strum.
His fingers move in a delicate rhythm over the strings. He starts singing slow words he could never share with anyone else but Davy. Words about a love more pure than anything Peter ever felt with a girl.
As his song comes to a close, he looks up as tears escape Davys eyes. He stops playing the outro immediately. “Did I do something wrong?” Peter clenches his hair in fists, “I'm sorry Davy I was trying to do something nice but I just made you uncom-”
Davy takes Peter fists in his hand and the clench softens. Davy pulls Peter’s hands away from his face and replaces them with his own, cupping his lover's cheeks. “It was perfect, love. Thank you so much. That was the kindest,” he pauses, pressing a quick kiss onto Peter's nose, “sweetest,” another kiss, “most Peter-est gift I have ever been given.” He gives Peter another kiss, this time on his lips.
“I love you Davy-baby.”
“I love you too sweet Pete.”