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Taken Again

Title: Taken Again
Author: stripesco04_nur
Rating: R
Pairing: Mike/Peter [Torksmith!]
Summary: Peter gets hurt trying to protect himself from Mike's sexual needs...
Disclaimer: I do not own Mike nor Peter - or any of The Monkees for that matter!
A/N: My very first Monkee slash story! Don't think it's any good...

Peter's eyes doubled a bit as he was backed into the wall near Davy and his' bedroom. A whimper broke through as two strong hands gripped the bassist's upper arms, pushing him so he was trapped between the wall and the lean torso that was against him.

Not again. Peter thought; struggling a bit as a nose began rubbing against the side of his left cheek. Turning his head slightly, Peter gasped as the hands tightened their hold on his arms. Lips pressed against his throat - openly and wet - and the bassist shuddered. Regaining himself, Peter tried to shrink his body away from the warm mass, but the person against him seemed to disagree with Peter's reluctances.

"Don't move!" A husky voice, tinged with a bit of a Southern drawl, snapped. A fist banged the wall against the bassist's head, causing Peter to become more frantic as tiny pieces of dry-wall fluttered down onto his orange shirt.

Peter felt his body freeze as lips trailed ghostly around his face before just reaching his own. Glancing upwards, Peter could see the inner battle in the deep brown eyes of his attacker.

"Mike, please," Peter whispered, swallowing thickly as the Texan's eyes flashed towards him and then back down to his lips again.

Peter watched, shaking slightly as Mike seemed too lost in his own mind.

"Please," Peter begged again.

Lips crashed upon his and Peter flinched as the Texan's teeth scrapped his bottom lip. Crying out due to the pain, a tongue slithered in and the bassist cringed against the intrusion. A rough hand became tangled in his hair, and Peter felt Mike pulling his face against his own.

Breaking apart - Mike's tongue withdrawing from Peter, and a bit of saliva dripping down the bassist's chin - the Texan gave a sigh of contentment, before pulling Peter forward and spinning him around so he now faced the wall head-on.

Fingers skimmed underneath his shirt before lying still against his stomach. Peter felt himself tense as he heard the rustle of his belt-buckle being snapped open, and his belt being slipped away from his jeans. Peter bit his lip as he felt Mike mumble against the side of his face.

The bassist twisted himself in the Texan's hold, and tried effortlessly to throw Mike's hands away from where they gently began to pull his jeans down.

"No, Mike!" Peter whined; tears pricking at the corner of his eyes as a cool breeze bit at his bare bottom, which was now fully exposed. More rustling of clothes could be heard behind him, and Peter shook as he tried to pull away.

"Stop moving," Mike snapped, pressing his body against the bassist to further any more movements. Peter tensed again, and he struggled as he felt Mike's cock press against his ass.

Mike gave a low groan of pleasure, but Peter still continued to struggle until a powerful blow knocked him to the ground.

Dazed and breathing hard, Peter's vision tilted a bit, and he whispered softly, "Mike..."

Warmth covered him, and Mike's lips pressed against the back of his neck as if trying to sooth the bassist as his thick member slowly began to stretch him. Peter yelped, and Mike shushed him.

"Too much..." Peter groaned as Mike moaned at how tight Peter was.

A bit of air tingled around his hips as Mike began his plummet into Peter's ass. Incomprehensible fragments escaped the Texan's mouth, and the bassist could only grunt painfully.

"Fuck!" Mike cursed his body speeding up and clenching a bit, and Peter shuddered again as Mike's teeth tore into the left side of his collar-bone smothering his call as his orgasm ripped through.

Slowly Mike began to withdraw from Peter, and his head began clear a bit from the haze he had been in. Glancing down, the guitarist's eyes widened as he saw Peter lying still underneath him.

"Pete?" Mike whispered softly. Blood mixed with cum dripped down the bassist's thighs, and the bite-mark glisten red as Peter tried to pull his-self up.

Mike frowned and rushed forward to aid Peter when he stumbled a bit.

"Don't touch me," Peter said sharply. He winced a bit as he pulled his jeans back up, and limping a bit, Peter slowly made his way to his bedroom, but stopped when he heard Mike whisper, "I'm so sorry, shot-gun..."

Please leave anything!


( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
Nov. 3rd, 2011 01:46 am (UTC)

Holy shit! This ones a dark entry to the Blue Monkees Oz experience!

I love it though!

(I have a few "dark" Monkees fics myself on the laptop. I don't think I ever posted the 2nd half of my Rape fic to BMO - maybe too graphic & cringe worthy.)

I like Mike's eyes reflecting the inner turmoil - leaves you wondering what's going through Mike's head. (The side some of us feel is lurking beneath the calm Nesmith exterior...
...& dear sweet canon Peter, such a patient friend to still be around after being constantly subjected to such abuse! I'd like to see how he helps Mike through this as only Peter can.

More Fics like this are very welcome.
Thanx for sharing with BMO. :)
( 1 comment — Leave a comment )