Monkees rush in where angels fear to tread
by T'Monkeelover

Thunk. The elevator jerked to a stop.

"What the...?" Mike Nesmith said to Davy Jones.

"We seemed to be stopped, mate," Davy said. "Want to boost me out the 'atch in the ceiling and I'll go for 'elp?"

"No, they only do that in bad movies," Mike said, opening a panel in the wall. "In real life, we use the phone."

Davy leaned against the wall and watched Mike talk to someone on the other line. Eventually the tall Texan hung up and turned back to his bandmate.

"Power outage," Mike said as the lights flickered off. "We'll be here for a while."

"Well, at least in the dark I can't see how small this lift is," Davy said bravely.

"You have claustrophobia?" Mike asked, concerned.

"'ave what?"

"Fear of confined or small places."

"Oh, yeah, that's it, innit?"

"Don't worry, Davy," Mike reassured him. "They'll have us out of here in no time."

"But what if they don't, Mike?" fretted Davy. "What if we're stuck in this tiny elevator for hours? Or days! We'll get hungry and thirsty! What if we run out of air? What if the cable gives? We could plummet to our deaths---"

"Davy, don't be ridiculous. We're perfectly safe."

"If you say so," said Davy in a tiny voice.

Both men stood in the dark. Mike could hear Davy breathing, and as the long silence stretched on, the small Englishman's respiration grew faster and more labored. Mike knew that his friend was on the verge of panic, and that he needed to do something to keep Davy calm.

He reached out blindly until he felt warm flesh beneath his hand. Davy jumped when he felt the contact, but Mike quickly gripped his arm. "It's okay, Davy," he said. "We'll be fine. Just settle down."

Davy went slightly limp under his fingers. "Thanks, Mike. It... It makes me feel better when you touch me like that. I know that you'll take care of me."

"Of course I will. That's what friends are for."

They both grew quiet again, and gradually, Mike could feel Davy lean slightly in his direction. Knowing that his friend was seeking more reassurance, Mike slid his hand to Davy's far shoulder and drew his friend close.

"There. How's that?" asked Mike in a gentle voice. He could smell Davy's hair, which was right beneath his nose now.

"Much better," murmured Davy.

Mike inhaled deeply, feeling himself relax even as Davy stopped shaking. He sensed his friend calm and thought it was a good idea to hang on to him. Who'd have guessed Davy suffered from claustrophobia, not to mention all the other things he thought might happen to them.

He began rubbing Davy's shoulder absently and decided that touch really helped when everything was dark. Davy was being quiet except for his breathing, which grew steadier as each moment passed.

Time slowed down or speeded up, Mike wasn't sure which, but the next thing he knew, Davy's arm snaked around his waist and a hand rested lightly on his chest. Mike completed the hug by drawing Davy closer into the circle of his arms.

Davy laid his head on Mike's shoulder and let out a huge sigh.

"Are you okay?" Mike asked.

"Yeah. I'm fine." Davy squirmed a bit and admitted, "This feels good. You feel good."

Mike thought about it for a minute then said, "You're right, it does. Sure beats you getting all freaked out."

Just then, the elevator car lurched twice then stopped. Mike found Davy glued to him and panting wildly. Davy's mouth was so close to Mike's, he was forced to breathe in used air. And he could tell Davy's panic had returned.

Well, he could only think of one way to distract his friend and prevent Davy from clawing him half to death in his struggle to get closer and hang on tighter. Mike put his hands around Davy's face and guided their lips together.

That moment seemed to stretch out forever. It was indeed the only distraction that could have kept Davy from falling to pieces in the steamy darkness; funny how Mike always seemed to know exactly what to do. Davy could think of only two things now: that Mike was a really good kisser, and that he didn't want the kiss to end. Mike seemed to know that, too, and let his hands drop to Davy's waist to pull him closer.

Mike was thinking of the last time he'd kissed a boy, years ago, back in the days when life in Texas was empty and living in California just a dream. He remembered how strange it had been to feel stubble brushing against his chin, and a hardness answering his own pressed against him...just like now. It thrilled him a little inside to know that Davy was just as turned on as he was and he decided to see how far he could go. Slowly he opened his mouth, letting his tongue dance over Davy's full lips, which parted in response.

'What am I doing?' Davy thought wildly. 'I can't do this. I can't keep letting him kiss me, I can't - he's my mate and I never wanted to kiss a bloke before - if only it didn't feel so good...' He put his hands against Mike's chest, intending to push him away, but once again he was distracted, this time by the insistent fingers tugging at his belt buckle.

"Mike..." he groaned, his head spinning. Was the air in the little room getting thin?

"What is it, babe?" Mike murmured, bending to nip at Davy's neck.

"Don't - don't - " Davy stammered, feeling his knees start to tremble as Mike's hand made its way into the front of his pants, which were growing tighter by the second.

"Just don't...stop," he said at last.

Just then, the elevator lurched ominously. Davy yelped as they tumbled to the floor. Clutching each other tightly, they looked around with worried eyes.

"Mike..." Davy whispered.

"Shhhh. Let me listen."

Mike could feel Davy shaking in his arms. Was the pounding his heart or Davy's? He took a long breath and said, "I think it's okay. I think--"

A sudden jangling noise made both men shout in fear.

"What was that!" Davy cried. "Mike! I'm scared!"

The harsh ringing sounded again. This time Mike realized what it was and he laughed.

"Mike?"

"It's the phone," he said as he pulled himself to his feet. "The phone. Jeez," he muttered as he picked up the handset. "Yes?"

"Are you folks all right?" came a booming voice.

Holding the phone away from his ear, Mike glanced over at Davy who had pushed himself into a corner where he sat with his arms wrapped tightly around his knees.

"Yeah, we're doing all right," Mike replied. "But I hope you're going to get us out of here soon."

"We're working on it. Things are really gummed up so it'll take at least half an hour. Listen, there's going to be a lot of noise but don't worry. Everything's under control."

Mike looked at Davy again and saw how scared he was and how hard he was fighting to conceal it. Compassion mingling with desire, he said, "All right, thanks. We'll be okay." As he hung up the phone, he saw Davy's eyes, wide and needing.

"Will we be okay, Mike?" he asked.

Going to him, Mike sat down beside him and drew him into his arms.

"Do you trust me, Davy?" he asked quietly.

"You know I do."

"Then we're going to be okay."

Mike pressed kiss after kiss on Davy's cheeks until their mouths met. He felt Davy's hunger driving his own and suddenly he too felt a fear of confinement, the confinement of his clothing. He stripped off his pants and began tugging Davy's jeans down as the rough noises of the repair crew echoed all around them.

~

"Oh no. Look at that." Kip Berger shone his flashlight up into the darkness of the elevator shaft. Two of his crew, Bill and Ed, leaned in and looked up at the cable.

"Shouldn't there be four of those?"

"Uh...It's not supposed to be frayed like that, is it?"

Kip just looked at them, then shouted down the shaft. "WILBUR! FRED! GET OFF THAT CAR! NOW!!" He watched as the rest of his crew scrambled to safety, then pulled Bill and Ed back away from the shaft. "When that cable goes, it's going to have a mean snap to it. Let's get to the floor below the elevator and get some braces under it. Move!"

Just then there was a loud KERA-A-ACK! and a whoosh as the cable broke and the elevator hurtled down the forty stories to the basement floor.

Slowly Ed and Bill crept to the open elevator shaft and peered down. Behind them they could hear Kip fumbling with the telephone in the hall.

"Boss? Who you gonna call?"

Kip just sighed. "The janitor."

---

Davy Jones sat bolt upright in bed, shaking and sweating. "MIKE! MIKE! MIIII-IIIKE!"

Mike Nesmith, Mickey Dolenz, and Peter Tork burst into the room. "What? Davy, what is it?"

"Mike, oh, Mike, you're alive!" Davy reached out and hugged the leader of the Monkees. "I had a b-bad dream! We were in a lift, you an' me, an' it stopped and...and..."

"And what? Davy, elevators are supposed to stop."

"No! Not like that! We were stuck! A-and I was so scared, and the lift dropped a bit, and you...oh!" Davy's hand flew to his mouth as he stared at Mike. The dream had been so real, he had to remember that Mike Nesmith hadn't really kissed him! But the feel of Mike's hands on his body, the touch of his lips had been so real! What did it all mean?

"I what?" Mike's eyes were like limpid pools of cocoa. Davy blushed deep red and looked away.

Mike turned to the other Monkees. "Guys, I think Davy's just a little shook up from a nightmare. You go on back to bed, and I'll take care of things here."

"Okay, Mike," said Mickey Dolenz. "Come on, Peter."

"Okay. 'Bye, Davy. See you in the morning." Peter and Mickey walked out of the room and closed the door behind them, leaving Mike and Davy alone.

"So what was it, Davy? What did I do?"

Davy blushed even more furiously. "I-it's nothing, Mike. Really. Just a bad dream."

Mike put a finger under Davy's chin and made Davy turn and look up at him. "Come on, Davy. Tell me."

Davy couldn't look away from those cocoa eyes. "I...you...Mike, I was really scared, and you...you gave me a 'ug to reassure me..."

"Like we're doing now?"

"Yes! No! Well...kinda."

"And?"

"It's embarrassing, Mike, I'd rather not say."

Mike gripped the small Englishman's arm, and Davy jumped and stared down at Mike's hand on him. "It's okay, Davy," Mike said. "We'll be fine. Just settle down."

Davy looked up at him in shock. "Mike! That's...that's just wot you said in my dream!"

Mike smiled down at him. "Did I? Well, it's true. So then what happened?"

"You...you...um...'eld me tighter. Because I was very scared. I think I 'ad closetphobia. Y'know, a fear of tight little places. You were reassuring me."

"Well, that's not so bad, is it?"

Davy sighed, and leaned in and relaxed against his friend's chest. "It's silly, Mike. I know I'd never be that scared, but it was a dream, and, well, I 'ugged you back, and then the lift dropped a couple more times an' I was jumpin' on you and we couldn't breathe, and then Mike don't 'ate me because it was just a dream but so 'elp me you kissed me!"

Mike went still under him. "Ha ha," he finally said in a small voice. "Good thing it was just a dream, isn't it?" He sounded unconvinced.

"Yes, because you were takin' me clothes off an' grabbin' me peter an' the workmen were 'ammering all about and then someone yelled and the lift fell just as we were...well. Er. An' anyway, then I woke up."

They were quiet for a moment, then slowly, guiltily, they pulled away from each other. "I...I think I can sleep now, Mike. Ha ha. Wot a dream, eh?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Some dream, Davy. Glad I could be of help." Mike stood up. "You sure you're ok, babe? Need a glass a water, anything?"

Davy just stared at him, and shook his head.

"Well then! A-hmn. Okay then. G'night, Davy." Mike walked out of the room and shut the door.

Davy stared at the door for a long moment after Mike Nesmith had walked out, then he snuggled down under the covers, turned his head into his pillow and began to softly cry. He shouldn't have told Mike the truth, he knew that now. Shouldn't have told him about the dream at all. Now things would never be the same between them, he knew it.

Mike walked into his room and flopped down on his bed, stunned. After a moment, he got up again, undressed, turned out the lights and got back into bed. But he didn't sleep. As the hours of the night ticked on, while the other Monkees slept, Mike Nesmith lay awake in the dark, and all he could think about was stripping the clothes off a Davy Jones who was wild and wet with desire, and burying his long Monkee member deep between the smooth globes of Davy's tight Monkee ass.

Some day, my little Davy, he thought as he began to masturbate. Some day.

***The end.***