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Mike was cooking eggs on the stove when Davy shuffled into the kitchen and tucked himself into Mike’s side. Mike automatically wrapped an arm around his shoulders as Davy wrapped his arms around Mike’s waist and nuzzled into his pajama top.
Mike smiled. It was clear that Davy would much rather be sleeping, and was only awake and up against his will.
He flipped the eggs, then pressed a kiss to the top of Davy’s head. Davy burrowed further into his side.
Micky and Peter came down a few minutes later, Micky yawning and Peter rubbing his eyes but both seeming more awake than Davy. They were also still in their pajamas, but Peter’s nightcap was perched precariously on Micky’s curls.
Peter pulled orange juice out of the icebox and poured himself a cup, while Micky set his chin on Davy’s head, put one arm around him and one arm around Mike, and asked, “Any special reason you’re fixing eggs?”
Mike shrugged. “I dunno, I was up. Seemed like it would be nice.”
“It is,” Peter said, joining them on Mike’s other side and kissing his cheek.
They stood there for about ten seconds before Mike said, “Would y’all rather sit down while these finish cooking?” And they decided they would, actually, no offense to Mike. He made some joke back about this way he would actually have the elbow room to cook.
“C’mon, zombie-Davy,” Micky teased, nudging him towards the table. With a groan, Davy peeled off Mike and followed him.
Peter set his cup down on the table, then went to get two more. Micky sat down in a chair and Davy sat down in Micky’s lap, sticking his face in his neck.
Micky laughed, even as he held him. “You’re really tired, huh?”
Davy just hummed.
“How about you, Micky, how’d you sleep?” Peter asked, bringing over two cups of orange juice for them and sitting down.
“Fine. You?”
He shrugged. “Fine.”
Mike came over with plates and utensils for everyone.
“How’d you sleep, Mike?” Micky and Peter asked together.
“Fine,” Mike said, fighting back a smile.
After a moment of silence, Micky said, “I heard we were supposed to have good weather today.”
Peter nodded. “Yeah, but not great for surfing. At least that’s what I heard.”
Micky hummed in acknowledgment. “Guess we won’t go surfing, then.”
“Okay, everybody, breakfast is ready,” Mike announced, bringing over a plate of eggs and his own cup of orange juice, grateful to break up the stilted conversation. Normally they could talk with each other for hours about a wide variety of interesting topics, but it was different when their brains weren’t fully awake yet.
Micky nudged Davy and he sat up, blinking blearily but perking up at the sight of food.
Everyone helped themselves, though Micky and Davy ate off the same plate for convenience. They all complimented Mike on the eggs, and then breakfast passed in comfortable silence; having their mouths full of food was the perfect excuse to not attempt to make conversation. The food also seemed to revive Davy a bit, and he even helped clear the table when they were all done.
Then the four of them trudged back upstairs to get dressed for the day.
Their plans wavered upon entering the bedroom.
“Hmm, it looks mighty inviting,” Micky said, staring at the bed.
Mike groaned. “Don’t tempt me.”
Peter went and sat down on the mattress.
“Peter…” Davy warned.
Peter shrugged faux-innocently. “Just staying out of the way.”
“Yeah right,” Micky replied with a knowing smirk.
Peter smiled and shrugged again, then flopped onto his back.
Davy paused halfway through pulling a shirt out of the drawer and turned to Mike. “We didn’t really have anything going on this morning, did we?”
Mike sighed. “No, but-”
Micky took the cue and catapulted onto the bed, landing up by Peter’s head. Peter swiped his nightcap back, and Micky gave him a playful upside-down kiss.
Giving in, Mike put down the pair of socks he was holding and went over to the bed, sitting down next to Peter. Davy hopped up on Peter’s other side and lay down on his back, shimmying his shoulders into the sheets.
Micky kissed him as well, then turned to Mike.
“Nice up here, isn’t it?” Peter asked Davy, and Davy nodded.
Micky planted a sweet kiss on Mike’s lips. When he pulled back, Mike brushed a curl from his forehead, then followed through on the action by running his hand all the way through Micky’s hair. Micky’s eyes fell shut, and he hummed.
Mike smiled and he began to run his hand through Micky’s hair, occasionally tugging on it gently or giving his head a little scratch. Micky’s head lolled, leaning heavily against Mike’s hand, his face wearing an expression of pure bliss.
Peter had been tracing Davy’s facial features, but turned to look when Davy giggled and pointed at Micky. He smiled and said, “Come here, Micky, lie down.”
Mike pulled his hand away as Micky slumped to the bed. Peter took over for him stroking Micky’s hair, and Micky let out a sigh.
“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” Peter asked, and Micky nodded.
Davy pressed a kiss to Peter’s neck, rubbed a thumb across Micky’s cheek, then climbed over Peter’s legs to kiss Mike and sit in his lap.
“Glad to see you’re feeling more awake,” Mike said, and it was supposed to be a benign comment, but Davy didn’t want to take it that way.
“Oh, sorry.” He closed his eyes, dropped his head against Mike’s shoulder, and began snoring exaggeratedly.
Mike and Peter both chuckled. Micky giggled a second later, clearly out of it.
Davy leaned forward and nudged his shoulder. “Come back to Earth, Micky.”
“You’re awake!” Peter cheered, and Davy chuckled.
Micky sat up, shaking his head. “Sorry, I’m back now.”
“Feel good, Mick?” Mike teased him.
Micky smiled dopily. “Very.” He kissed Mike, then bent down and kissed Peter. “Thanks.”
Davy leaned back against Mike and began lazily kissing the corner of his jaw. One of Mike’s hands rested on his hip, and began to rub it gently.
Micky trailed a thumb across Peter’s cheek, then kissed one of his freckles. Peter smiled sunnily, so Micky kissed another one. And another one.
Mike watched them, and by the time Micky had kissed about half of Peter’s face, the desire to feel Peter’s sunshine overwhelmed Mike. “Peter, darlin, come here,” he beckoned. Peter sat up and turned his glowing grin to Mike, and Mike felt himself melting in the face of it.
Peter must have noticed something in his expression, because he leaned forward and kissed Mike with the utmost gentleness.
Mike whined, a small, quiet thing in the back of his throat.
Davy brushed a few strands of hair out of Peter’s face, and Micky kissed the back of his neck.
When the kiss between Mike and Peter broke, they smiled at each other. Then Mike turned to press a kiss to Davy’s temple as Micky kissed around to Peter’s cheek.
“Oh!” Davy said as his gaze landed on Micky, and reached out a hand. “I want to try your off switch.”
“Huh?” Then Micky realized what Davy was reaching for. “Oh, my hair.”
“Please?” Davy asked, hopeful.
Micky leaned his head in. “Won’t catch me saying no.”
Davy’s hand landed in his curls and began petting. Micky leaned into it, reminding Mike strongly of a cat. He almost expected Micky to start purring.
Davy huffed a little laugh and climbed off Mike’s lap to get closer to Micky. Gently he guided Micky’s head to his lap, where he could stroke his hair most comfortably for both of them.
Peter moved so he was next to Mike, leaning on his shoulder and wrapping an arm around him. Mike brought a hand up to scratch his back, causing Peter to fold further into him.
After a minute or two, Peter pressed a kiss to Mike’s neck. He reached up to undo one of the middle buttons on his pajama top, then slipped his hand through the gap and began playing with Mike’s chest hair.
Mike hummed contentedly.
“Not a bad start to the day,” Peter commented quietly.
Davy smiled down at the mess of curls in his lap. “Yeah, I could get used to lazy mornings like this.”
“I could too,” Mike admitted wistfully.
Peter pressed another kiss to his neck.
Micky rolled onto his back and stretched. Then he reached for Davy’s hand and pressed a kiss to the palm. “Thanks, babe,” he said, smiling at Davy. Davy smiled back, tapped his nose.
On a whim, Mike leaned forward and tickled the side of his neck, making Micky giggle cutely and scrunch up his shoulders.
Then Davy reached up to stroke some hair out of his face, and Mike paused.
“Hey, you’re right, that does feel good,” he said, on a bit of a sigh drawn out by Davy’s fingers.
Davy smiled and patted the bed next to him, and Mike obligingly laid down. Davy began to stroke his hair, gently saying, “Just relax, love,” so Mike let his eyes slide shut, body going slack.
Then he felt Peter, rubbing gentle circles into his shoulder, and he let out a sigh, a small release of lingering tension.
Davy’s hand slipped down to his sideburn for a moment, and when it withdrew back to the rest of his hair Mike felt Micky’s hand on his face, giving it a few gentle caresses.
Mike felt completely loved, and completely relaxed.
Then Davy yawned.
Micky smirked. “Still tired?”
“Mm,” was all Davy said, eyes remaining closed for a moment, so Micky sat up.
Peter started gently stroking Mike’s arm, watching as Micky crawled behind Davy and gently coaxed him to lie down.
He kept petting Mike, but now his head was in Micky’s lap, and Micky was stroking his hair and his neck and his cheek and crooning gentle nonsense.
Peter kissed Mike’s cheek, clambered over him—making Mike open his eyes to see what was going on—and then Davy, before settling down and spooning up behind him. Micky gave his head a welcoming caress.
Davy hummed at the warmth at his back, and Peter’s hand slipped under his pajama top to rest on his stomach, occasionally stroking it lightly.
Mike rearranged himself so he was cuddled up against Davy’s front, head resting on the mattress but forehead leaning against his chest. Davy’s hand was still in his hair, but moving with very little energy behind it. Mike didn’t mind.
He draped his arm over Davy and rested his hand on Peter’s hip. “You wanna lie down, Mick?”
“No, I’m good here.” He brushed his fingers across Mike’s sideburn, and Mike hummed.
They rested in peaceful quiet for several minutes.
“When are we getting up?” Peter finally asked.
The other three Monkees groaned.
“Mmm, sometime,” Mike mumbled into Davy’s chest.
There was a moment of silence.
Then Micky asked, “Sometime in the morning?”
Peter snorted.
“Maybe,” Mike replied, and snuggled closer to Davy. Davy hummed and gave his hair a few strokes.
Micky chuckled. “Sounds good to me.”