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It wasn't a sight Davy had been expecting to see when he opened the door to their shared bedroom, but he wasn't exactly complaining.
Micky was lying on his bed - lounging, really, spread out like he hadn't a care in the world - with his fly undone and his cock standing proudly on display. He was stroking himself at a steady rhythm, eyes closed and head thrown back against his pillow in utter bliss.
“Looks like someone's enjoying themself,” remarked Davy, pulling the door shut behind him with a click. Micky raised his head, and the clouded look in his cedar gaze when their eyes met did not help the growing tent in Davy's trousers.
“Hey there, handsome," he purred, not bothering to slow his strokes.
Davy raised his eyebrows, equally as amused as he was turned on by his bandmate's complete apathy. “You're not looking too bad yourself, doll. Mind if I join you?”
“Be my guest,” came the grinned response, and Davy wasted no time in clambering onto the bed and crawling over to Micky, capturing his lips in a fierce kiss. Neither Davy nor Micky had a tendency to take things slow, meaning that when you got the two of them together, passion levels usually rocketed within seconds. Micky moaned, sending a rush of blood straight to Davy's cock - he loved it when his partners were vocal, and Micky certainly wasn't lacking in that department - and licked into his mouth, their tongues sliding together in a brief fight for control. It didn't last long, mind, Micky giving in within mere moments; in all honesty, he really couldn't be bothered.
There was only one word that could be used to describe the kiss, and that was lazy. It was absolutely, blissfully lazy.
Micky's hands started to roam, sneaking underneath Davy's shirt to feel the toned muscle there. Davy chuckled, the sound low in his throat, and pulled away, breaking the kiss with a wet pop in order to give Micky that look that drove all the girls crazy, gaze dark and eyelids heavy with desire.
He let Micky pull it over his head, and did the same to him. They both took a moment to appreciate the view before diving back in for another kiss, mouths sliding messily against one another.
Davy's hands skimmed over Micky's nipples, and he pinched one to hear the beautifully high moan it evoked. Forget tenor, Davy was positive Micky was a soprano. His tongue fought its way deeper into the drummer's mouth as he rolled the nipple between his fingers, and in response, Micky's hips bucked, bringing to Davy's attention his more-than-noticeable hard-on.
When he took Micky's cock in his hand, Micky practically yelped. “Oh, Davy!” He moaned, delightfully, and hearing his name spoken in such a filthy manner made Davy so horny, he couldn't help himself from grinding against the sheets.
“You're such a slut, Micky Dolenz, you know that?” he grunted, started to pump his hand in time to each grind of his hips.
Micky moaned in what sounded like agreement, and he scrambled to get his hands on Davy's cock, which was by now rock hard. When he found it, Davy grunted, hips rocking upwards, and he crashed their lips together for a third time as Micky began to stroke him at the same speed, both moaning into each other's mouths.
That is, until Micky turned his attention to Davy's glorious chest instead, tongue trailing down his neck to lick a stripe along his collarbone, relishing the younger man's shiver, before attacking his nipples with disgustingly wet open-mouthed kisses, practically slobbering over them. It was unbelievably hot.
Davy let out a groan, his pumps faltering momentarily before returning with twice as much speed. Micky hurried to match him, hips writhing as he did so.
“God, Davy,” he gasped around a nipple, a dribble of saliva escaping him. “Don't stop.”
“I don't plan on it, babe,” grunted Davy, head falling forward with the effort of it all. The movement caught Micky's attention, and he lifted his own head to initiate yet another kiss - if it could be called that. It was essentially just them moaning against each other's lips, but that didn't make it any less hot.
Davy felt it before Micky said anything; felt it in the tightening of his muscles, in the way his breaths grew more ragged. “Davy- fuck- Davy, I'm close-”
“Yeah, yeah me too,” gasped Davy, trying to speed up his pumps as a familiar coil of pleasure built in his abdomen, drawing nearer with each thrust of Micky's hand.
His lips found Micky's neck, sucking hard for a few moments before Micky directed him to his mouth instead. They grunted and they groaned and they moaned, mumbling a stream of various curses between as they simultaneously grew closer to relief.
And then it was upon them, and they were coming almost completely in sync, their seed painting each other's chests beautifully as a wave of pure, white-hot pleasure washed over them.
They panted into each other's mouths, taking the time to bathe in the afterglow. Both smiling, they kissed again, sloppy and unbothered.
“Well, that was nice,” sighed Micky, making his way down Davy's torso to lap at the mess on his chest.
Davy huffed out a laugh at the ticklish sensation. “You're filthy, you are. Absolutely filthy.”
“Mm,” hummed Micky, not bothering to deny it, and flashed him a Micky grin. “But so are you.”
And Davy couldn't deny it, either.