monkee one shots

2/2 . groupie . mike nesmith

Getting into Mike's car later that night after the show, you tried to keep all the butterflies in your stomach to stay put, so you wouldn't accidentally say something that would put him off. Where the two of you were off to wasn't something you had knowledge of, and you weren't exactly sure where you'd stay if you did get suddenly dropped off.

You looked out the window to admire the dark star filled sky. This was all very peaceful compared to the shrieks of the girls backstage, and you felt your shoulders relax into the rather comfortable seat of the car.

There was a silence between you and Mike, but definitely not an uncomfortable one. It was filled with the wind that slipped through the small bit of the window you had rolled down. The radio was on too, playing some old jazz. 

Then, suddenly, he reached over and placed a hand on your thigh, sending shivers of pleasure to tickle up your spine. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he was doing it so well.

Feeling your stomach butterflies flutter around faster, you bit down on your bottom lip. "What are you thinking about?"

"Where the next turn is," He replied blandly. Oh, c'mon he had to give more than that...

"Where are we going?" You finally asked. You were assuming where, but you wanted to hear his voice.

"The hotel, why, hon? Gettin' worked up?" You felt his smirk burn into you, and you couldn't help, but blush.

"No, no, just curious.. My car's back there," You brought up to try and hide how you really were feeling, although it was obvious. You knew he knew.

"That's the lifestyle of a groupie, right..?" Mike asked with a shrug. Immediately, your eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm.. Not a groupie-" You began. Snorting, you looked at him. "What are you trying to say?"

"Well, aren't you a groupie..? What are we doin' here, babydoll?" He asked with a low chuckle. He took a glance back at you.

Blinking, you realised where you now stood. You didn't quite let this soak in. You were sitting in a car, who knows who's car, on the way to a hotel to have sex with Michael Nesmith of The Monkees. This really had to be a dream.

Pinching yourself out of it, you managed a laugh. "I guess so, I've never thought about it like that though," you admit. This, again, was the first time that you were doing this.

God, what if this became a normal for you? Going to concerts, sneaking around back, getting into their car, going to their hotel room for more... The thought was certainly arousing.

"What do you mean?" He suddenly asked, giving you a glance. "You a virgin or somethin'? Never done it before?" 

You rapidly shook your head in reply. "No! No, it's not that.. No, I'm not a virgin.. I've done it before... Never with a celebrity," You explained. 

"Huh...? So, you're telling me you ain't a groupie?"

"NO!" You exclaimed with a burst of laughter. Mike, however, didn't think it was all that funny and removed his hand from your thigh to grip the stirring wheel. 

"Good golly, really? I.. I thought you was joking or something," He asked in disbelief, shaking his head a little.

"Yes, I haven't been sleeping around like Pammie," you playfully spoke in reply, although you were nervous. He seemed tense now, more withdrawn. Did you accidentally ruin your plans for the night?

He chuckled deeply, letting out a sigh after. Whew...

"We almost there?" You decided to ask. He only nodded. Your gaze shifted out the window,