Disclaimer: this imagine is NOT MINE. Credit to the original author, fabulous-facial-hair. I got this from Tumblr.

Rating: PG-13

***

Mike was settled along the pad's long matured couch, thoughts sunk deep into one certain topic. One certain person.

A certain person who happened to be on the opposite side of the room, eyes sunken deep into a quite satisfying cartoon.

Micky Dolenz.

Whatever cartoon it was, Micky seemed to be determined to watch it without distractions.

Thank the lords above that Peter and Davy were down by the beach doing what you might expect them to be up to.

Typically, Flirting up the chicks.

So, Without them here and Micky's head stuck on a television set, Mike had the deepest pleasure to let his thoughts overtake his mind.

These thoughts weren't the type that Mike would usually want, but it let Mike think hard enough upon the ordeal.

The thought that was bolded and drilled in his mind was the pure thought of feelings. Feelings for that crazy, sly attitude Californian.

Now how on earth did he get himself into such a position of thoughts, the young Texan had no idea. He had no idea whether it be just a sudden queer spark or something he had had in the past but never thought to bring it out.

Whatever the situation was that brought him here, he was here.

And he was mentally flustered.

Another thing was that stranged the dark haired male was that Micky didn't have the features of a feminine type. The features that usually made Mike attracted to a person.

He didn't have the eyes, the hair, the curves, nor did he had the wonderfully cooing effect of a woman's bosoms.

Other than the personality, Mike looked deeply for those features.

Sure, Micky had a brilliant personality. He was a joyous optimist with an occasional sly side and a quite quirky attitude.

But something about the man intrigued Mike greatly.

Maybe it was the fact his lips were something peculiar. Something grandly peculiar.

They were so plump and soft looking. So kissable, chewable, lickable.

Oh my.

It made his thoughts switch from feelings to incredibility thoughts of want. Want for the drummer in many ways.

He wanted him in a way that he could just plant the man's face with never ending kisses, snug in a bed or along a couch. Another want was just to want. To touch the man. To run his fingers through that fluff of hair.

But Mike wasn't much into this dreamer stuff.

He was a realist. This could never happen. Never ever.

It wasn't that he was flustered on the outside in doing so, but the thought of asking his seemingly straight friend a very queer idea. Just unusual.

Never in a thousand years would the Texan get the gut to tell the male that sat across from him.

And as he sat there, his mind somehow still deep in space, bottom lip suckled into his mouth as he inhaled a shaky breath from his nose, all he could do was think, contemplate, dream, and stare at the man across the room.

Stare at his marvelled face, his lips, his everything.

Micky seemed to still be constantly staring at the television with satisfaction. This made Mike smile faintly soft, sighing weakly as he finally looked down at his lap.

He toyed with the jeaned fabric as an image implanted into his brain.

An image of both him and Micky together.

If only...