The Music Box.

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It was clear to Davy, while he was sitting at the table in the early morning, that Peter was sucking on his sleeve. It was a simple little action the blonde boy did when he was off on his own world of thought. Davy turned his head, fluttering his eyelashes slightly as he glanced at him. It was a habit that Peter could stand to get rid of, it's not like Davy liked hearing the sound of Peter's spit when he was drinking his tea, but it was sort of endearing.

Mike came round the table, a cup of coffee sloshing in his hand as he reached his other and guided Peter's hand away from his mouth. "Don't do that." Peter looked down at his damp sleeve and shook his head with a little grin, like he was amused that he'd done it again. Davy smiled against his mug as he went to take a sip of his tea.

Micky was trying to hoover over Mike's shoulder as the man flipped through the paper, most likely looking for jobs. Funny enough, Mike was always on them for not helping too much with that but he was just swatting Micky away. Not that that stopped Micky from doing it.

Davy almost felt like pointing that out, but realizing his mug was empty set him on a different idea. He scuffed the floor as he pushed out of his chair and went to the kettle, pouring more into his cup. It splashed onto the counter but he didn't care to wipe it over, it was only a few drops.

He sat back down only to have Mike stand, paper under his arm. "I'm gonna go check out this club that put out an ad..." He pushed in his chair and went to walk away. But Micky was quick to jump up too.

"Mind if I come? I'd like to stretch out my legs?" Micky flashed Mike a smile.There was something about the way Mike looked back that put Davy off.

"Sure, Mick. Y'all be alright by yourselves?" Mike asked as they stopped at the doorway. Davy rolled his eyes.

"We are adults, Mike." He put it simply but followed Mike's eyesight to Peter, sleeve back in his mouth. "Oh, Peter." He frowned and guided his hand back down. Mike took that as a point made and Davy scowled as he watched the two of them go.

"What are you planning on doing, Pete?" Davy asked. Peter grinned.

"I was going to go down to that junk shop in town. Do you wanna come with?" Peter asked, already standing. Davy swallowed his tea and shrugged.

"Might as well."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Davy trailed around the length of the small shop once more as he took few glances at Peter, admiring the little music gadgets and tinker toys. Davy wasn't quite sure how on earth Peter found it to be that interesting. The store smelt of dust and he'd felt like he'd seen all the inventory with just one look.

He begrudgingly crossed his arms and sat on the carpet next to Peter, who was admiring some little box. "S'that?" Davy asked. Peter glanced up with a little grin.

"Music box. Pretty old too. Listen, Listen!" Peter said with excitement and he pulled the little trinket out of the box and started to turn the little handle. The little thing let out a sweet tune. "Are you listening?"

"Yes, Peter. I'm listening." Davy confirmed with amusement. He could almost feel the excitement radiating off of Peter. He shuffled closer, to hear better. He glanced back up, intending to make a comment before he realized how close he was to Peter. He froze but Peter didn't seem to notice at all.

"I think it's a love song." Peter smiled again and held it out for Davy to take once he stopped playing it. "You like love songs." He explained shortly as if it was the most obvious reason for giving it to him. Davy chuckled, taking it from Peters open palm, inspecting it.

"How much is it anyway?" Davy asked, hand ghosting the handle. Peter started to stand.

"Free, I'm gonna buy that for you and this...." Peter pulled out a small box of strings for his guitar out. "For me. Cause y'know, I'm always breaking mine cause I get too excited." Peter shrugged.

Davy took a minute to admire that action that was just so Peter. He shook his head and felt his chest warm before he spoke again. "You don't have too, Peter-"

"But if I don't get the strings, I won't be able to play?" Peter tilted his head and Davy opened his mouth to explain what he meant but changed his mind.

"Thanks Peter. Let's get going, alright?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some days later, Davy felt the little musical trinket was causing him more trouble than he'd expected. The little thing sat on his bedside table and every time he reached over to play it, he thought of Peter. It was strange to think of the man whenever he played the lovey little tune. But he was able to convince himself that it was just because Peter had given it to him for a few days.

But he slowly started to doubt his own explanation. More and more times did he catch himself describing something Peter did as endearing or sweet or divine or any more words he'd usually reserved for those few minutes it took him to fall in love with some bird...

It was unsettling.

He shook his head late at night and hopped off his bed, pushing the little box away. He glanced at Peter, who was sound asleep and went to get himself some water. Only, when he opened the door he could hear voices. And for a moment, he panicked wondering just what kind of trouble was going to happen to them next. But as he halted himself to listen, it became clear to him that it was just Micky and Mike.

"Miiiikkkee??"

"Micky?" Mike countered without the same tone Micky's voice carried. Davy for whatever reason, lingered at the doorway. He peeked around and saw the two of them.

It looked to him that Mike had gotten up for water, just as Davy had, but Micky being Micky, followed him. Mike poured himself a glass and turned, almost as a challenge to Micky as he sipped. Micky only licked his lips. "Don't do that, Mick."

Micky didn't stop though. Davy hadn't seen that look in Micky's eyes unless he was flirting. Davy's face twisted slightly.

"Why not?" Micky purred and Davy held his breath.

"Davy and Peter-"

"Are asleep." Micky put his hand over Mike's glass and sat in back down before putting both his hands on the sides of the slightly taller mans face.

Davy felt his mouth hang agape. And he had to clamp it back down, biting his lip, to keep from actually gasping when they kissed. He felt like throwing up.

He quietly shut his door.

Micky and Mike weren't gay. They couldn't be. Davy had known them far too long. There were no signs of it, he knew damn well. He'd never seen them look at each other with stars in their eyes. They couldn't....be gay. That was just wrong.

Davy glanced at Peter and felt fire in his chest. He marched over to his nightstand, opened his drawer and shoved the music box in the back of it.

It was wrong. 

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