Cowboy Casanova (Dolenzmith) (COMPLETE)

32

"Peter? What are you doing here?"

Peter looked up from his seat on the couch and smiled. "Oh, hey Mick. I've been waiting for you."

"Did you break in?!" Micky's voice cracked and he blushed a deep scarlet.

Peter tutted. "Do you think that lowly of me? You gave me a key, remember?" He slurred his words and Micky winced. He was drunk or high. Maybe both.

"Oh...yeah."

Something in Peter's eyes scared Micky and he thought back to when Peter'd caught him and Mike together. He gulped.

"I wanted to talk to ya, Mick. Sit down, will you?"

Micky eyed the cushion Peter placed his hand on. His wobbly legs carried him over—

The phone rang.

Grateful for the distraction, Micky practically lunged for the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi Micky, it's Davy. Just calling to see if you were well—"

"Hang up the phone, Micky."

The low voice in Micky's ear made him jump. He spluttered out, "sorry Davy, I gotta go," before hanging up and turning to face Peter's angry expression.

"You're always putting him above me!"

"E-Excuse me?" Micky felt like he was gonna cry.

"That was Michael, wasn't it? What did he wa—"

"It was Davy, Peter! My boss!"

Peter scoffed. "Like hell it was. Why the hell do you like him, Mick?! He doesn't care about anyone, but himself!"

"Peter, that wasn't—"

"Why can't you see that he won't ever love you? Sex is all he wants!"

"Peter—!"

"Why can't you see that I love you?!"

Micky gasped. "What—"

He was interrupted by Peter pressing their lips together. Micky gasped again and tried shoving Peter away, tears now streaming down his cheeks. He choked against his sobs.

Peter shoved back, pushing Micky against a glass cabinet. Glass shattered as Micky smacked his head against the corner. He groaned and slumped to the floor.

The last thing he saw before blacking out completely was Peter, grinning wickedly as he unbuckled his jeans.