Like Boys Do

New Years Eve

Happy New Year!

--

Voices echoed around the room, but one, in particular, piqued Mick's attention- an unexpected, gentle one just behind him. Right behind his ear,

"Come give me a hand?"

He turned, meeting Peter's eyes,
"Yeah?"

"Just come help me with the drinks," he said, "I don't wanna even think about disturbing whatever's going on there."

He pointed across to where John was sat, with Christine straddling his waist, lips brushing against his ear, with Danny watching from the other side of the couch with a fiercely interested gaze.

"What was going on there?"

"I don't know," Peter said, "Probably never seen anyone about to fuck before, he's so innocent."

"Probably."

"Guess that's Danny though, I wouldn't have him any other way," he caught the troubled edge to his voice, despite his attempts to muffle it with bravado.

"Mmm," he nodded, reaching into the cabinet for the glasses.

Peter stayed quiet for a moment. He could practically feel his eyes on him, but somehow, he didn't mind. Again, his voice behind him startled him,
"Mick?"

"Yeah?"

"Mick, look at me."

He turned, resting back against the kitchen counter,
"What's going on, Pete?"

"I just wanted to tell you something."

"Yeah?" Mick breathed, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

"Before the new year."

Mick nodded, confused as Peter leaned in even closer, voice getting smaller.

"I love you."

It wasn't the first time he'd heard it from him. He said it a lot- "I love you" as someone picked up the tab at the bar; "I love you" when Danny showed him a new solo; "I love you" when John came back into the studio on a later night session, arms laden with bags from the all-night cafe. But he'd never heard it so nervous, so vulnerable, so tender.

"I love you too," Mick grinned, "You know that, right?"

"No, Mick, I mean it-" he said, exhaling, and Mick noticed his bottom lip tremble, "I've loved you for ages, but I never really felt like I could say anything but I thought maybe you were- I don't know...but you didn't seem like you minded those men we met the other week...I just had to tell you that I really love you."

He raised an eyebrow, a little frown playing across his face as he realised how timid he looked in front of him,
"I don't know what to say, I'm flattered-"

"But you don't feel the same," Peter finished, "I'm sorry. I didn't think you would, I guess. I just had to tell you, it's been eating me up on the inside."

Mick shook his head, resting a hand on his shoulder,
" No, it's okay...I don't know, I've never thought about it- you and me, that is-"

When Peter didn't respond, looking down at his feet, like he regretted saying anything, Mick felt his heart plummet. He bent down slightly, his fingertips trailing his jawline, tilting his chin up,
"But you're right- I didn't mind those men. I've never minded people being gay. I did wonder about myself for a while- in school."

"Your posh boy boarding school?"

Mick chuckled and felt the tension ease instantly,
"Yes, because the sight of all those nasty rich boys in the shower really was something else."

"Filthy rich young men," Peter grinned, "Sounds like the perfect investment."

He could tell he was struggling to keep it together when he felt Peter's head fall against his chest,
"You don't hate me then?"

"Of course not! Hey, come here. How about we try it out?"

"Try what out?"

"This."

He slipped one hand to rest on the small of Peter's back, the other resting on his cheek as he leaned in and captured his lips in a gentle kiss. Everything clicked into place when their lips touched. Even more so when Peter's hands snaked their way to his back, pulling him in as their lips parted.

They broke apart, Mick's eyes wide- and Peter's shocked as they stared at each other, faces inches apart. He could almost hear his heavy breathing, still out of breath from the kiss.

"I love you too," Mick found his voice quickly, "I love you, Peter."

"You mean it?"

"I mean it."

Mick kissed him again, feeling the butterflies in his stomach from their first replaced with something more powerful as Peter's hands roamed over his back, up to his hair, lacing his fingers in it. He felt his fingertips dancing over his scalp, and tried not to groan. Everything seemed so clear as he enjoyed the sensation of his soft lips brushing against his, then over his cheek, his jaw, down to his neck.

"I love you, Peter," he repeated quietly, gasping when Peter found a sensitive spot under his ear.

He let his hand wander and roam down, squeezing his hips, his ass, everything in reach as Peter nibbled gently on his sensitive spot.

"Oi! Green! You and the lanky bastard better get back in here or you'll miss the countdown!" someone shouted, breaking their lusty gazes.

Mick exaggerated his sigh, making Peter laugh,
"Come on, let's go back. We can make out once everyone's in bed."

"Do I get a kiss at midnight?"

"Of course you do," Mick grinned, "That's a promise. And afterwards, much more."