Sheets

By Sloane

Chapter 1

Sleep. Interview. Perform. Sign autographs. Drive to new city. Repeat. . .

Every day is the same. A relentless, draining cycle. After about three cities on a new tour every town and every venue look the same and blend into one big blur. One long day. One big city. If it wasn't for our tour manager I would have no idea what day of the week it is or in which city I am.

Road weariness makes me crazy. It literally makes me mad. I fucking hate hotel rooms. They trip me out more than anything. The crisp, white sheets remind me of the hospital, another location I detest. The sheets in the bus are worse. Even when the sheets in the bus have been freshly cleaned and replaced they still reek. It doesn't take long for six guys to stink up a tour bus. Especially when Chester decides to smoke on the bus. Inconsiderate asshole.

All I could think about on the ride home was sleeping in my own bed and my blue, plaid, flannel sheets. Soft sheets that smell like fabric softener and not antiseptic or fucking smoke.

The bus pulls up to the house and lets Chester, Joe and I off. We share a four bedroom home together. The extra bedroom we use as a study/sudio which houses all of our computer equipment and rudimentary recording devices. Brad and Rob share a loft together in town and Phoenix lives alone on the outskirts of L.A. Squirrely little fellow.

We heave our heavy duffle bags into the house and make our way to our respective quarters. I climb quickly up the stairs taking two steps at a time. My room is neat and clean, just how I left it. A thin later of dusk collects on the furniture since it's been about a week since the cleaning lady has been by. I throw my bad down on the floor and flop down on my bed. After about sixty seconds I wonder what the fuck I am doing above the covers and scurry beneath the covers and between the soft, flannel sheets. Damn, I love flannel sheets. I debate on whether or not I should take a shower before lying in the bed and dirtying up my sheets. Fuck it. I am tired and too comfortable to move. Instantly I am asleep.

I wake up and look around. 7:41 pm. We got home around 3:00 pm. I've been asleep for hours. Weary, I drag myself out of my bed and into my bathroom to splash water on my face. The house is silent except for a T.V. somewhere in the house. Downstairs I suspect. Walking down the hall I see that Joe's door is closed and no light is coming out from under it. The door to the study is open and the room is dark. I suspect Joe is sleeping. I make my way down the stairs thinking a cold beer would taste great right about now. The living room is dark. The only light visible downstairs is a flickering light coming out of Chester's room beside the kitchen. He must be watching T.V. I grab a beer from the fridge and remove the cap with an opener. No cheap beer for this man.

I peek my head into Chester's room to see if he's awake. He's watching "Change of Heart," that awful dating show where each half of a couple goes on a date with someone else.

"How can you watch that piss?" I say, taking a step inside his room. He jumps back slightly. I've scared him.

"Shit! You scared the piss out of me!" He says breathlessly.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, it just scared me. I think I'll live!" he says with a wide grin.

"Do you want a beer, man?"

"Yeah, that'd be great, thanks."

I turn the corner back into the kitchen and pull out another beer from the fridge. I remove the cap and return to Chester's room. Handing him the beer I sit down beside him on his bed with my back against the backboard. His back is cushioned by a pillow.

"Here ya go." he says and hands me a pillow that had been carelessly tossed on the floor.

"I still don't know how you can watch this piss."

"Aw, c'mon, it's funny, plus check out that girl, she has huge tits! Maybe while we are off for the month I can take out one of the "Change of Heart" girls who is not content with her shitty boyfriend!"

"Well, if you do that she's certain to go back to the shitty boyfriend. One date with you will scare the crap out of her!" I laugh.

"Fuck you! You're just jealous."

"Right! I'm jealous of the walking case of herpes! Maybe I didn't get laid on the road, but at least I'm clean" I chide.

"I do not have herpes! I'm careful when we are on the road. I just can't resist all of those hot, willing, young girls. Especially the ones with the short plaid skirts and big black boots, damn. I think I'm getting a hard on just talking about it."

I eye his lap which is covered up by his bed sheets. Course, cotton sheets. I cringe.

"Hey, Mikey - my show's over. Let's go smoke a joint." Chester speaks raising his eyebrows and grinning wide.

"Okay, but only if we go out back. No smoking in the house. I fucking hate it when I go to sleep and my sheets smell like smoke."

Chester hops off of his bed and opens his night table drawer. He fidgets around in the drawer until finding what he was looking for. He opens the small box and pulls out a joint and a lighter. I remove myself from the bed and follow him though the living room onto the back porch.

Chester hands the joint and lighter to me. "Here, you get to do the honors."

I light the joint and take a hit. I try to hold in the smoke but end up coughing most of it out. I hand the joint to Chester.

"Damn, you take a hit like a little girl." He teases.

"You know I normally don't smoke that shit, man."

"I know. I was pretty surprised when you agreed to it" he speaks and then takes a massive hit like a fucking pro.

We continue to hit and pass the joint between us. Each time I inhale I cough, yet I can still feel all of my limbs relax knowing the drug is taking effect.

After smoking the joint Chester lights a cigarette. Feeling content and relaxed I lean against the railing. I watch him inhale deep puffs of smoke. I study his thin lips each time he puts the cigarette between them. 'I bet those lips are soft' I ponder to myself.

"Quit staring at me, freak! I'm sorry if you disapprove of my smoking!" He chides playfully.

I can feel the blood rush to my cheeks in embarrassment. "Sorry man, I was spacing out."

He puts the cigarette out against the porch railing and tosses it into a nearby bush.

"Man, you need an ashtray out here. I don't want butts all over the place."

"Quit your whining, little girl" he says with a grin.

I follow him back into the house and back into his room. We take up our places again on his bed.

"What is Joe doing?" I ask.

"Sleeping. You two were both down for the count."

"Yeah, but it felt so good to sleep in my own bed, on my soft sheets."

"You really are weird about your sheets, man."

"And you are 'Mr. Normal'?" I laugh.

Chester picks up the remote and surfs through the channels. I stare at him out of the corner of my eye. I can see why all of the girls want to fuck him.

Feeling daring due to the weed, I sit on top of him, facing him.

"What are you doing? Get off of me!"

"Shut up!" I yell and start grinding my hips into his.

"I mean it, get off of me!" He raises his arms against my chest and tries to push me off. I grab both of his wrists and smack them back against his headboard, moving my face closer to his.

"I fucking mean it, get off of me!" he whines.

I press my lips firmly against his. He struggles to break free, but I am stronger and have the upper hand.

He thrashes his head back and forth to remove my lips from him. "Damn! You really are hard up, Shinoda, now you are trying to hook up with me, you fag!"

I remove my left hands that was holding back is left hand and smack him across the face. Quickly I grab his free hand with my right hand still gripping his other wrist.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" He yells. I smack him again, harder.

"Shut up!" I command. Again, I move my face to his and press my lips firmly against his. With my free hand I put my arm around his lower back and pull him further down on the bed so that he is laying rather than sitting. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. 'Where did this come from?' I ask myself. However, now anger and lust has risen in my blood. He squirms trying to kick and fight me. I press my hips firmly against his, rubbing my growing erection into his groin.

"Quit it! Get off of me!" he protests. I smack him again. I feel my dick harden the moment my hand makes contact with his face.

 

Chapter 2

Chester's eyes fill with fear and hurt.  I don't give a damn.  The prick had it coming.  No one shows Mike Shinoda up.  He has taken all of the limelight away from me, the prick! I've been jealous of him since the day he auditioned for us, yet also mesmerized.  His contradicting boyish/manly features. . . The vibrant flicker of life in his soft, brown eyes. . .

I move my lips to his ear and softly kiss and lick it.  "Shhhh. . . be a good boy, Chaz. . ." I whisper softly in his ear.

He still fidgets but not with as much force.  With my one free hand I grab one of the pillows on the bed and pull the pillow cover off.  I steady my legs on either side of him slightly squeezing his ribcage between my knees and wrap his wrists together with the pillow cover.  I pull the knot I have made around his wrists tightly. 'That will keep him somewhat restrained. . . man, I fucking HATE cotton sheets!'

I am happy to have the functionality of both of my arms back.  I reposition myself on top of him sitting up on his hips facing him, asserting my superiority.

I reach a hand up his shirt and stroke his chest.  He shivers against my cold touch on his warm body.  I take his left nipple between my thumb and forefinger and pinch lightly.

"Quit it, you sick fuck!" His voice wavers.  He's losing his confidence under my domination.  I grin widely.

I pinch his nipple harder.  "Is that better, Chester?"

"You're going to pay for this, asshole!"

"I am, am I?" I ask taking both of his nipples into my fingers and squeezing hardly.

"Owww!" he winces. He tries to push me away with his bound hands, but misses and swats the air instead.

"If you don't quit fighting me, I'm really going to hurt you!" I yell delivering a crisp smack to his right cheekbone with the back of my hand.  It leaves a red mark on his soft face. Adrenaline is rushing through my veins.  'I am the king of the world!' I think to myself with a chuckle.  Damn, I hated that crappy movie.

"Chester, if you play nice, you won't get hurt, unless you like it, of course. . ." My voice sounds evil. The tone at which the words pour from my lips shocks even me, but I like it. My cock is rock hard.

I move my right arm to hold down Chester's bound hands and push his t-shirt up with the other hand. His skin is soft and milky. So pale, so soft. I want to devour him. I am not really sure what to do as I have never been sexual with a man before. I move my lips down to his exposed left nipple and lightly nibble and suck it. Chester exhales lightly. I feel his groin stiffen against mine. 'He's getting off of this!' I think with pure excitement. I increase the pressure of my teeth and lips to his flesh.

"Mike, that hurts!" he whispers harshly, obviously irritated. Angry, I sink my teeth deeply into the flesh of his nipple, cutting slightly into his skin. He begins to try to wiggle his way out from under me.

"If you don't fucking sit still, I'm going to slap you again, do you hear me?" I say with authority. I stare callously into his eyes.

"Okay. . ." he replies meekly. 'That's right, give in to me, Chester' my mind hisses.

"Now, I'm going to move my hand away from your bound hands. I think you know it's in your best interest to keep them still, unlike last time. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mike."

"Good!"

I pull my hand away from his bound hands. I look down upon Chester, upon me sitting on top of him. 'What the fuck am I doing? This can't be good for the band. Oh, fuck it!' My mind is racing. My desire overpowers my good judgment.

I scoot myself down on his legs a bit and reach for his belt buckle. Unbuttoning the buckle I look up at him. He nervously stares at my hands. I pull the buckle of his belt and remove the belt from the loops of his pants and throw it to the bedside. I reach down and unbutton and unzip his baggy jeans. I reach my hands through the opening I have made in his pants. He is stiff between my fingers. I exhale loudly surprised at the sound coming out of my mouth.

"Oh, God." Chester gasps.

I slide my hand into his boxers though the front opening of his boxers taking him in my hand. I gently caress it fully up and down. I feel a slight dampness at the tip and know he is getting aroused.

"Mike, stop." Chester whispers.

"You like that don't you?" I respond. I can barely contain my excitement.

I move my hand away and stare down at Chester's face.

"Please, Mike. Don't stop."

The sides of my lips curl into an evil grin. I wink at Chester and unknowingly lick my lips.

I take the top of his pants and waste band of his boxers between my fingers and gently pull them down, completely removing them and my stance from on top of him.

"Oh, shit."

"Shhh, Chester. I'll take good care of you." I speak softly with a deviant tone.

I sit on the side of the bed next to his exposed hips. I take my hand and slowly stroke it on the inside of his thighs. I stare down at his exposed body. My eyes linger on the stiffness between his legs. He is neatly groomed. The only hair below his waste is a thin line of hair between his navel and groin and light brown pubic hairs encompassing his shaft. The rest of his groin is completely bald. The sight sends shivers up my spine.

I pull him into the middle of the bed and nudge his legs apart with my knees. I sit on my knees between his legs taking his stiffness again into my hand. I slowly stroke him up and down. 'Am I really doing this? Am I really going to go through with this?' I ponder. 'Hell yeah!'

I move myself down on the bed so that I am lying between his legs, my face in front of his groin. While still stroking I kiss and lick the insides of this thighs.

"Oh, Mike. . ."

I move my lips to the head of his cock and lick it softly with the tip of my tongue. I can taste his salty precum in my mouth. My lips move down to encompass his head between my lips. I continue to tease the tip of his cock with my tongue as my lips bob up and down on it. I can feel him slightly fidget in response to my teasing. I move my hand around the base of his shaft and stroke gently as I continue to arouse the head of his cock with my mouth. I quicken my pace and tighten my grip. Slowly I bob my head down taking him completely in my mouth stroking my tongue along his shaft along the way and pull my head back returning my lips and tongue to his head.

"Please. . ."

'Shit, he's enjoying this as much as I am!' I continue stroking and sucking, taking him as far as I can into my mouth without interrupting my stroking. I can feel him stiffen in my mouth and know he is almost ready to come.

"Oh, fuck. Oh Mike. Oh fuck! I'm. . . I'm. . . Oh, I'm coming!" He squeals emptying himself into my mouth. I'm surprised at the salty warmness of his emission and am impressed with all of the girls that have graciously paid me this same favor. I continue to lightly suck and stroke while lapping up his release. I peer up at him. His head is cocked back and his lips are slightly parted with enjoyment.

Slowly I remove my hand and face from between his legs. I prop myself and sit once again facing him with my knees on opposite sides of his hips. I'm careful not to sit down on his groin too hard.

"Did you fucking enjoy that Chaz? Huh?" I say to him with authority. He looks up at me sheepishly. I deliver a smack to his left cheek with the back of my left hand. "Did you like that?!"

"Mike, stop that" he speaks almost breathless. "Don't hurt me. Please."

"Don't hurt you? You don't want me to hurt you? Well, I think you like it!" I reach down and roughly squeeze both of his nipples between my fingers.

"Oww!"

"Shut up!" I hiss delivering another smack to his cheek with the back of my hand. "You sick fuck! You just came in my mouth!"

"But you. . ." Another smack. Chester lets out a small squeal.

I bend down and kiss his lips firmly. He doesn't fight. I open my mouth and move it between his lips, his tongue greeting mine. Passionately we kiss.

"What the fuck is going on here?" I hear from behind me. I quickly sit up and turn my head to Chester's bedroom door. Joe is standing there. 'Fuck! I forgot to close the fucking door!'

 

Chapter 3

 

"Joe, you startled me!" I manage to speak. I remove my stance from over Chester and sit next to him on the bed.

"Well, obviously! What the hell are you two doing? Are you guys lovers?"

"No, we're not lovers!" I respond astonished. "This is a first. . . Joe, it's nothing, really. Just having a little fun. Chester likes it!"

Joe glanced at Chester's face to determine if he should take action against Mike. Both of Chester's cheeks were now red, but he looked relaxed.

An evil grin surfaces across my face "Hey, Joe, wanna have some fun?" I ask wickedly.

"I don't think I like your tone, Shinoda."

"Oh, c'mon Joe, live a little. We have our own little manservant! It will be great!"

"You are fucked up!"

"Well, yeah, but that's beside the point. C'mon, Joe, it will be great."

"I don't know, man" Joe replied nervously.

"Why don't you just come over here and watch. You don't have to do anything if you don't want to." I hoped that would convince him. The thought of touching Joe sends a shiver down my back.

"Well. . ."

"Oh, c'mon! Stop being so frigid."

"I'm not being frigid, Mike! I just don't get off on guys!"

"You don't have to do anything, now come here!"

Joe walked over to the edge of the bed slowly, still slightly unsure.

"Hey, do you have any lubricant-type stuff?" I ask Joe.

"What!?" Joe said startled.

"Not for you man, I'm going to use it on Chester. I don't want to hurt the little guy." I lie.

"Yeah, I've got something I think. Hold on, I'll be right back." I could note an excited tone in his foice

Joe exited Chester's room before running up the stairs to his own bedroom. I turn towards Chester. "Sweet Chester. Don't worry, I won't hurt you. . . much."

"Leave me alone! You've done enough, Mike!" Chester weakly wined. 'I'm not buying your protest, bitch!' I think to myself.

"Like you didn't enjoy it Chaz! You obviously did or you wouldn't have come in my mouth!" I begin to eyeball the room, sick of hearing Chester whine. Removing myself from the bed I kick the crumpled comforter now at the foot of the bed completely off. I grab the top sheet on Chester's bed and pull it out from under Chester and then completely removed it from the bed. I begin to twist the edge of the sheet to convert it into a make shift rope.

"What are you doing?" Chester asked.

"Shut up or I'll smack you again!" I respond straddling Chester once again. I take the sheet and cover Chester's mouth. Chester begins to struggle, so I again deliver a hard smack to his left cheek. "Now stay still or I'm going to fucking punch you in the gut next time!" Pulling the sheet around Chester's head I tie it off, proud of my make-shift gag. Chester tries to protest, but only mumbles now escape his mouth.

Joe returns with a white tube in his hand. "I think this will work" he states handing me a bottle of KY Jelly.

"What the fuck is this?"

"It's some stuff PC left over here the last time we fucked. Some lube they sell in stores next to the tampons. It doesn't ruin condoms when you do it because it's water-based. . .at least that is what PC said."

"It's all good!" I chime.

"Did you have to gag him, Mike?"

"I didn't have to, but I thought it would be fun. C'mon, Joe, get into it!"

"Man, I'm just watching. . ."

"Sure you are, Hahn." I grin at him.

Joe sat down on Chester's bed and placed his back against the headboard. He pulls a pillow over to prop up his back. Before returning to the bed I remove my t-shirt.

"Take it off!" Joe jokes.

"That's the spirit!"

I straddle Chester another time and gently caress his cheeks and forehead with his hand. I lean down and lick Chester's left ear, lightly kissing and nibbling at it. Chester let out a soft, muffled moan.

"Yo, it's really weird watching you do that to him!" Joe comments.

I sit up and move myself over to Joe and straddle him. We are both sit upright, eye to eye.

"What are you doing? I told you, I'm just watching!"

"Take off your shirt."

"No, man, I'm just watching."

"Just shut up and take off your shirt. No one is going to know. Nothing that happens here tonight leaves this room, I promise."

Joe looks deep in my eyes questioning my sincerity.

"If you fucking say anything to any-"

"Just shut up and take it off. I'm going to say a word!" I interrupt.

Joe grabs the bottom edge of his t-shirt and pulls it up over his head. I stare at his bare skin. The contrast of Joe's dark skin to Chester's pale frame is delighting. 'My mom would be so proud, I'm multicultural!' I joke to myself amused by my wit and how I, myself, am multicultural being half Caucasian and half Japanese.

I take the sides of Joe's head in his hands resting my fingers lightly on the back of his neck and move my lips in lightly to brush his. Joe's lips are soft and melt against my own. Chester peers up at us, defenseless - bound and gagged like the broken man that he is. Repeatedly, I softly kiss Joe, keeping my mouth initially closed to ease Joe into the idea of kissing a man. Gradually, I allow my tongue to escape from between my lips and gently press it past Joe's lips. I am greeted by Joe's cautious tongue. Lightly we jockey for position within each other's mouths.

I pull away, now in pain after letting my stiffness continue without satisfaction. I jump up from the bed and remove my pants and boxers. I can feel Joe's eyes burning a hole in my erection. I climb back on the bed and lay down on the other side of Chester so that he is now between Joe and myself. I position Chester on his side so that his back is towards me and he is facing Joe.

"Lie down beside Chester" I instruct Joe who willfully obeys to my satisfaction and lies down on his side facing Chester. I eye Chester's back. His frame is so thin, almost breakable. I run my fingers along the tattoos on his back outlining the letters L, I, N, K, I, N, P, A, R, K. I place my hands on Chester's ass and caress it while I lean over him to kiss Joe. After a minute I pull away from Joe and move my mouth to the back of Chester's neck, kissing it. Gently I glide my fingers between his buttocks and tease his opening. He begins to fidget and slash around making muffled moans. He's obviously agitated because he knows what is coming.

"Joe, keep him still." I command. Joe brings his hand to Chester's neck and firmly grabs it.

Staring Chester in the eye Joe says "Sit the fuck still!" I wickedly grin at how well Joe has been trained. Chester ceases his wiggling.

I reach over to the nightstand and pick up the bottle of KY Jelly that I had earlier abandoned. I open the cap and ooze a bit of the gel out onto my hand. 'This shit is cold, Chester is going to freak!' I think with a chuckle. I take the saturated hand and rub it into Chester's opening. The moment my hand touches Chester's delicate skin he flinches at the temperature contrast. "Shhhh. . . I'll warm in up, Chazzy" I whisper affectionately in his ear while rubbing the gel against his skin and opening. Gently I insert a finger into his tight ass gently moving it in and out. Chester flinches.

"Behave, Bennington!" Joe commands while squeezing Chester's neck tighter.

I dispense more of the gel from the tube on my hand and rub it on my erection. It feels so good to finally have my stiffness touched. Out of the corner of my eye I catch Joe studying me rubbing myself. I lift my head up to look at him. Tearing his eyes away from my groin and looking me in the face his cheeks redden with embarrassment. He releases Chester's neck and leans over Chester slowly taking my stiffness into his hand. He glides his hand up and down my length. I let a loud moan escape my lips, which almost startles me. It feels so good to have someone else touching me. The excitement is too much and I lightly push Joe's hand away and lean into steal a kiss from him. We embrace each other around Chester's frail body.

No longer able to wait I pull away from Joe and position myself behind Chester resting my stiffness near his opening. 'You are about to fuck your best friend up the ass and you're not even gay. Smart move, Shinoda!' My thoughts fight with me. Blinded by lust I smoothly thrust myself into Chester.

"Oh, fuck!" I squeal. "Chester, you're so tight!" I am amazed at how good it feels to be inside of him. I slowly move myself completely in and almost all of the way out of him. "Oh, Chaz.. . .fuck. . .you feel so good." Chester squirms in protest and Joe returns his hand to grip Chester's neck.

"Settle down, Chester." Joe instructs. With his free hand, Joe explores the outline of Chester's body, caressing his ribs, hips and legs. He moves his body down so that his face is at Chester's chest and begins kissing it and pinching Chester's nipples with his teeth.

Approaching my breaking point, I quicken the force and speed of my thrusts. Violently I ram into Chester. He tries to verbally protest, but only mumbles escape from his gagged lips. I rest my head on top of Chester's and my chin on his shoulder. "You like that, baby, don't you. . .you like the pain." I tease breathlessly. "You like getting fucked by me don't you? Don't you?" My words get me even more excited until I can't take it any more. I thrust deeply into Chester. He is moaning in pain which I find exhilarating. "Oh, Chester, oh, oh . . ." I empty myself into him shaking almost uncontrollably and snapping my head back. 'Holy shit!' I think to myself ,'that was fucking amazing!"

I slump over resting against Chester's body and returning my head to rest on top of Chester's. Joe pulls himself up from Chester's chest and slides his hand down the side of my face.

"Man, you look spent!" he chuckles. He runs his hand over my forehead to remove the beads of sweat that have appeared.

"I want to do that to you, Mike." He speaks cautiously.

"Oh, no. That isn't happening! Plus, I thought you were just watching!"

"I quit watching long ago! C'mon, Mikey, can't I try? It just looked so gratifying, that's all. I want to experience that. . ." his voice trails off.

I can appreciate his sentiment, but am not ready for such and act tonight. I notice that Chester is stiff again. "Why don't we give pore Chaz a break and let him fuck you, and then you can fuck him some other night." I suggest. Chester glares at me in objection.

"Oh, c'mon Chester, it's gotta be better than sustaining our abuse!" I say while removing the gag from Chester's mouth. I feel somewhat regretful over treating Chester the way I have. 'No, you are justified, he deserved it! That will be the last time he fucking smokes on our bus and stinks up MY sheets!'

 

Chapter 4

"I think I’m going to take a cold shower and go to bed. This has all been too much for me." Joe declares getting up from Chester’s bed. "This is between us, right, Mike?"

"Yes, of course."

"Alright, well I’ll see you two tomorrow. Uh, have fun!" Joe replies with a wink.

Chester and I remain lying on the bed. Though now un-gagged, he is silent. I have forgotten that his hands are still bound with his awful, cotton pillowcase.

"C’mere," I say softly, turning Chester to face me on the bed. He is sullen. The sad look on his face sends a ping of pain to my heart. Guilt lays heavy on me like a lead blanket. Fuck, it was fun, though.

Gently I remove the pillowcase securing Chester’s hands together. He gasps slightly in relief when it is fully removed. His willowy writs red from the restraint. I rub my hand over his wrists tenderly like a mother would kiss her son’s scratch. I look into Chester’s eyes. He looks like a wounded child. What have I done?

I remove my hand from rubbing his wrist and bring it to his face to caress him. He winces and lets out a small whimper in response to my touch. "Shhh, Chester, it’s okay." He looks pitiful. I rub my hand across his newly shaven head, his fine hairs are soft to the touch.

Slowly, he moves his hand under my arm that is extended to reach his head and he rests his fingers on the back of my neck. I am surprised at his movement, imagining for a moment that he was my little china doll. He uses my neck as an anchor to pull himself towards me and plants his lips lightly on top of mine. Why would he want to kiss me so gently after I have treated him so callously? I feel like his toy now turning weak beneath his touch. I am still mesmerized by him as I have been since the day we met. I feel his wet tongue against my lips and slightly open my mouth, giving him entry. Our tongues twist and tangle, still very gently. I lower my hand on his head and move my other hand to his face, cradling both of his cheeks and jaw line in them. ‘Hello! You are making out with your best friend!’ the voice inside my head chimes. ‘Yes. . .yes, I am. . . and it feels great.’

I lower my left hand and lightly caress his erection. "No. . .No more sex. . . Not tonight. . .Can we just stay like this?" He whispers.

"Of course." I respond feeling slightly embarrassed. ‘I guess he’s the woman in this. . .this. . . relationship – if that’s what you call it.’ I joke with myself. He sounds like some of the girls I’ve dated: ‘Just hold me! . . . Can we cuddle?’ Blah, blah, blah! Although, it actually feels good to be like this with Chester. He is my closest friend in the world and knows me inside and out. Maybe he knows me too much now? Maybe this is a little too close? Oh, fuck it. Shut up, brain, and just kiss him!

After over and hour of kissing and caressing, I don’t think my lips can take it any more. Either we need to stop kissing or we can resume in a pool full of ChapStick. I draw back away from his lips and grasp on my head. "Hey, Chaz, it’s late. . . we should get some sleep." I sit up on the edge of his bed.

"Mike!" Chester squeals throwing himself of my lap. "Please don’t go! Stay here with me, tonight. . .please?!" He looks up into my eyes. How can I refuse those sad, brown, puppy dog eyes?

"Sure, Chaz." I respond while lovingly rubbing his soft, bristly head.

We sleep all night in each other’s arms.

-=-=-=-=-=-=

Sun rudely glaring in through Chester’s large windows wakes me. It takes me a couple moments to realize where I am. . . and who I am with. I feel foggy, as if I have a massive hangover, but it must just be emotional distress. ‘Oh, fuck, Mike, you’ve really done it!’

I try to wriggle out from Chester’s grasp without waking him to use the restroom to no avail. He stirs beneath my movements.

"Where are you going?" He asks sheepishly.

"Just to your bathroom, I’ll be right back, hun." Hun?! You called him ‘hun,’ you dumbass! I feel like my insides are being ripped in two. Half of me wants to get up, run up to my room and hide myself beneath my magnificent flannel sheets and the other half wants me to lay with Chester in my arms all day. ‘Ah, flannel sheets,’ I day dream. I forget what I am doing, but my bladder quickly reminds me. Bathroom, that’s right.

After relieving myself in Chester’s bathroom, I return to his bed. He is propped up on his elbows, lying on his back looking up at me. Both of his cheeks still red from the smacks I delivered unto him.

"Come here!" he whispers excitedly. I obey.

He pulls me on top of him and kisses me feverishly. ‘Don’t get excited, don’t get excited, don’t get excited!’ I repeat to myself. ‘Oh, shit. . . too late.’ Again, I am jelly in response to his touch. Well, jelly except for my cock, no less!

I can feel his excitement, as well, as our groins clumsily brush one another. Chester rolls me over so that I am on my back and he is on top of me. He sits up, straddling me.

"Quite a change from last night, wouldn’t you say?" he speaks raising one eyebrow and with an almost evil gleam in his eye.

"Uh, yeah. . . look, Chaz, I’m sorry if I hurt you. I’m not sure what came over me."

"Shhh…" he leans into kiss me, plummeting my mouth with his tongue. He pulls his lips away from mine and goes to work on my neck – nibbling and licking. I let a soft sigh escape my lips. He runs his hands up and down my torso – soft and first, and then greedily grabbing, pinching and scraping with his fingernails.

‘Mike, what are you doing?’ I quiz myself. ‘Maybe you should push him off . . .oh, Chester . . .’

He places a hand on top of my head, lazily playing with my now flat hair. Pulling his mouth away from my neck he props his face in front of mine so that our noses almost touch. He stairs into my eyes. His eyes grow wicked. "You know, Shinoda, you weren’t on very good behavior last night" he says in an icy tone and grabs a fist full of hair making my neck jerk back slightly.

"Chester, stop-"

"Shut up!" he shouts. I am taken aback and begin to worry about what he has in mind. There is no way I’m getting fucked. To not let him get the upper hand, I relax my muscles letting him think I’ve grown submissive to him. "You’re right, Chester. I’m sorry." I say, now half lying. He moves his lips toward mine, but before they can touch my own I flip him over so that I am now on top of him, with a leg on each side of him. I grab both of his wrists and hold them down against the bed and above his head, immobilizing him.

"You didn’t think I was actually going to let you take control, did you?" I taunt.

"Mike, you fucking—"

"Save your breath, Chaz. I don’t want to hear it." Swiftly, I release his left hand, and smack his right cheek harder than I ever have before. Without missing a beat, my hand returns to Chester’s unattended wrist. It happens so fast, he barely realizes what hit him. ‘Damn, I love hitting him.’ The though half excites me and half scares me.

Tears well up in Chester’s eyes and trickle down the side of his face. ‘Fuck, he’s crying. What a fucking baby.’

"Crying isn’t going to help you any, so quit it!"

I lean down over him and lick the tears that have been release from his eyes. ‘Damn, I’m badass!’ I joke to myself. ‘You’re fucking off your rocker, that’s what you really are!’

"Don’t ever try to pull that dominant shit on me again! We know who wears the fucking pants in this relationship!" ‘Well, figuratively,’ I think. "Do you hear me, Chester?"

"Yes." He whimpers.

"What? I can’t hear you!"

"Yes. . . ASSHOLE!"

"What did you call me?"

"Stop!"

"No, what did you fucking call me?" I roar.

"Nothing, forget it!" he cries.

"I think you called me an asshole. Is that right?" No response. "Is that what you fucking called me? You’re going to regret saying that, Chester, do you hear me?" I’m stunned by my gruffness. I rarely raise my voice at anyone and here I am scolding Chester like a little schoolboy. And I like it. I like it too much.

"Don’t move your hands or I’m going to hit you again, do you understand?" I assert. Chester awkwardly nods. I move my hands to the waste band of his boxers, the only cloths adorning his body and remove them in one fast swoop and send them flying to the floor. I remove my own while still straddling him, shifting my weight from knee to knee to remove each leg and toss these to the floor as well. I place my hands firmly on each of his shoulders, supporting myself up by my elbows and separate his legs with knees. I am angry that he shaved off his mohawk, if he still had it I’d have hair to grab on to. I love grabbing someone’s hair while I fuck them.

Realizing I have no lubricant, I remove a hand from his shoulder. I am too insensitive and impatient to hunt around for the KY. I hold my open hand in front of Chester’s face. "Spit!" I command.

"What?"

"Spit, damn it!" I order. Chester indignantly obeys.

"Again!"

"I can’t!" he whines.

"You can, and you will! Look, be glad I’m being this kind. I could easily rip you to shreds."

He spits again into my hand, tears again welling in his eyes. I deliver the saliva to my concrete cock. "I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to like it!"

I use my hand to guide my cock to Chester’s opening. I like the fact that I am facing him this time so I can watch him as I defile him. I position my head at his opening and slowly slide into him. "Fuck!" I almost shout. I still cannot get over how tight he feels around my stiffness. Chester’s face winces as I probe myself deeply into him. ‘Was he making those faces last night?’ Quickly resolving my moral dilemma with a ‘who gives a fuck’ to myself. I pull back out of him slowly, careful not to let myself slip out. Chester moans lightly in pain. "I know you like that, Chester." I devilishly whisper. "Don’t you, baby?" ‘Baby? What am I saying!’ Again I thrust myself deeply into him. Chester’s hands, now at his sides, each grab a fist full of bed sheets. ‘We should be fucking on my bed. Then we would at least have proper sheets.’

The tears that have welled up in his eyes escape. I lean down to his face again and lick away his tears. While pulling my face up from his I again remove most of my length from his opening.

"What are you doing, Mike? Just fuck me!" Chester shrieks.

"Wha…?" I begin, stunned

"Fuck me! Now, Mike! Fuck me!"

Still shocked, I decide to give him what he wants and pummel myself in and out of him, roughly.

"Oh, Mike . . . yes, thank you . . . yes!"

‘That sick, fuck!’ I think to myself, but continue to deliver Chester what he’s due.

"Oh, Chester, I’m almost there. . ." I do not realize it, but I’ve squinted my eyes to concentrate all of my effort on pleasing myself. Fiercely, I continue to deliver myself into Chester, our bodies making a smacking sound each time I deeply insert myself.

"Mike, you’re hurting me!" Chester yelps.

"Shut up!" I open my eyes. "You’re the one who begged to get fucked. So, shut up and take it!" I am irritated that Chester has slightly broken my concentration, but am able to recover from the distraction.

"Oh, Chester, oh…" I moan releasing myself into him. I collapse on top of his frail body.

"Kiss me!" he whispers in my ear. I move my lips over to his delivering an extended, strong, slippery kiss. I am painfully reminded that he, too, is excited by his hardness grating against my hip. ‘I’m certainly not letting him fuck me!’

Exhausted, I slowly remove myself from within him and keep my place resting on top of his body. I can barely move. Chester rolls me off of him, so that we are on our sides facing each other. He showers my neck and chest with kisses, making it a point to rub himself up against me so that I notice he is excited. ‘How very clever. I know you’re hard, Bennington, but I’m not giving in. It’s time you’ve been taught a lesson.’

Frustration finally seeps in and restless Chester begs "touch me, Mike!" I continue to lay beside him, motionless. ‘You’re and evil, fuck, Shinoda!’ my brain declares. "Mike, touch me, please!"

"You’re on your own, Chaz."

"What?"

"You heard me!"

"You ungrateful asshole!"

"Don’t give me that crap, you wanted to be fucked, so I fucked you. How am I ungrateful? Plus, you need to pay for that stunt you pulled earlier. You can’t get the best of me, Bennington!"

"I can’t believe you! How could you be so coldhearted?" I don’t respond. "Well," he begins, "what do you suggest I do?"

"I think you should take matters into your own hands. . . so to speak."

"I can’t believe what you’re suggesting. You won’t even help?"

"Chaz, either I leave now and go up to my room to sleep between my delightfully soft sheets, or I stay here and watch you jerk off. Either way is fine with me."

"You callous asshole."

"It’s a rough life being the playboy that I am!" I coldly joke.

"Well, either way, I’m going to have to take care of myself or I’ll be in pain all day."

"Go for it. It might actually be fun to watch."

Chester gets up from the bed and goes into his bathroom. "Hey, where’d you go?" I ask, selfishly concerned. I was getting pretty keen on the idea of watching him touch himself. Seconds later he returns with a palm full of lotion.

"Ah, you’re a lotion man!"

"Shut up!" he wines. ‘That bitch is always whining!’

Chester returns to the bed, lying down on his back next to me. His manhood stiffly swollen. I delight again in the sight of his good pubic hair grooming habits. Chester envelops his erection with his lotioned hand. Steadily, he moves his hand up and down on his length. I feel myself begin to stiffen at the sight of this spectacle. Gorgeous, flawless Chester, in the most intimate of moments. He’s so perfect, so beautiful. These thoughts bestow on me a twinge of guilt. ‘He’s perfect and he let you fuck him . . . twice. . .and you can’t even jerk him off? Selfish bastard.’

Chester gasps. He’s close. I think about helping out in some way, with my hand, my mouth, but then decide against it. I need to stay firm if I want him to respect me, obey me.

"Oh!" Chester moans.

"C’mon. Come for me baby . . ." I sexily whisper in his ear. "Come for Daddy." ‘Daddy? What the fuck are you saying?’

"Oh, Mike!" Chester yells out. "Mike!" His body is convulsing and his face squinting. I’m enthralled by the look on his face as he ejaculates all over his hand. "Oh!" Chester releases a loud sigh. His breath is deep and I watch his chest rise and fall. Staring at his chest I think about how sexy he would look with his nipples pierced. Yum. ‘Hello! He’s a GUY, moreover your best friend . . .what are you thinking, Shinoda, you dumbass?’

I move over towards Chester and pull him to me so that he is facing me on his side. I move in and kiss him passionately. "That was very sexy, Chaz." I whispered into his mouth and return to our kiss. Chester pulls away from our kiss and brings his soiled hand up in front of my face, palm exposed like he was going to wave at me. His release stuck to his hand, gradually running down on route to his wrist. I lean in towards his hand and flatten my tongue against his wrist moving upwards in one large lick to the tips of his fingers. Chester gasps. "More." He whispered half telling and half asking. I moved my hand around the back of his for support and proceeded to lick all of the sticky substance from his hand and fingers, seductively taking each finger in my mouth for good measure.

"You sick fuck!" he giggles.

"Hell yeah." I respond with a raised eyebrow and half grin.

Chapter 5

We both adjust ourselves on Chester's bed so we are lying on our backs looking up at the ceiling fan.  Chester catches his breath and lets out a small sigh.  An uncomfortable silence envelops the room.

After a few minutes of silence I decide to try to cut through the thick air before pulling my hair out.  "You know, I heard if a baby stares up at a ceiling fan that is on too long it will turn cross-eyed."

"You're silly, Mike!" Chester responds.  Silly.  What a strange choice of words.  Coming from any grown man I would think the use of the word would be downright annoying, however, coming from Chester it's sweet.  Chester is sweet.  Almost naive.  He has a reputation for being some crazy badass, but he really is not.  He keeps the real Chester hidden away, only for those who get close to him to discover.  He's just a big kid who wants to have fun and that is one of the reasons I love him.  Love him?  Well, care about him.  Yeah.

More silence.  I can barely take it.  The silence brings with it waves of confusion and guilt.  What was I thinking when I came on to him?  Why did I want to hurt him?  Why did I enjoy both so much?

I lean my head to the side to look at him.  He senses my movement and turns to look at me as well.  I offer a small, warm smile and he returns it. Seeing him smile at me makes me feel worse.  How could I be so mean?

I begin to remove myself from the bed.  Before hopping off I lean in and kiss him on the lips and whisper, "I'll be right back."

I walk into Chester's bathroom, turn on the bathtub faucet adjusting the temperature to a comfortable, warm setting and plug the drain.  I open the cabinet door beneath the sink and poke around.  Perfect - bubble bath.

Leave it to Chester to have bubble bath in his bathroom.  I pour a capful of the liquid into the tub by the faucet.  'Scrubbing bubbles!' I chuckle to myself.  'Wait, isn't that soap scum remover and not bubble bath? Whatever. . .'  I return Mr. Bubbles to his spot beneath the sink and remove a fresh washcloth and towel and place them beside the tub.  I sit on the edge of the tub continuously checking the temperature and adjusting the nozzle as necessary.  The tub finally fills and I turn the water off. Returning to Chester's room I pick up my boxers from the floor and slide them on.

"What are you doing?" Chester asks smiling.

"Come here" I say to him softly and lean down on the bed and pick him up in my arms like a groom would carry his new bride.

"Mike!" Chester giggles.  "What are you doing?"

I carry him into the bathroom and gently place him down into the water collected in the tub.  He lets out a small squeal when his flesh makes contact with the water.  "Don't worry," I gently assure him "the water's just right."

"Bubbles!  I love bubbles!" Chester yells out in joy like a child smacking his hands against the top surface of foam.

I have a huge, uncontrollable grin across my face.  I forget the guilt that earlier plagued me. I grab the washcloth and dip it in the water.  I apply soap and start stroking Chester's back.  I cleanse his entire body, avoiding lingering to long between his legs remembering how he wanted last night to not be about sex.  That is, after I violated him.  Guilt pings and I squash it concentrating on the bath I am giving Chester.  I get up from the tub and grab an empty cup that sits beside the sink.  "Time to wash your hair, Chester."

I grab a bottle of shampoo, purposely picking a shampoo and conditioner in one variety, from beside the tub.  How many bottles of shampoo and conditioner can one man own?  His cornucopia of toiletries amazes me. I squirt a small amount of shampoo into my palm and put it back in its place.  I rub the liquid between my palms to create a small lather and take my hands to the fuzz that is Chester's hair.  I wonder if he even bothers to shampoo it since he cut it.  For my purposes, that is beside the point.  My desire is to give his head a good massage. There is nothing else like having someone rub and caress your head.  It is such a neglected part of the body.

"Oh, Mike!" Chester speaks appreciatively "That's woooooooooonderful!"

I get butterflies in my stomach hearing him say those words.  What is this feeling?

"Okay, Chester, lean your head back" I instruct, supporting his head with one of my hands. I take the cup I retrieved from the sink and fill it full of water and carefully empty it on his soapy head.  I do this two more times to ensure all of the soap is removed.

"Are you all clean?" I ask Chester.

"Yes, thank you!"

I pull the tub plug to release the water down the drain.  "Stand up." I instruct Chester while helping him to his feet.  I retrieve the towel I had placed by the tub and rub it over his head to get the water out of his peach fuzz. I then take each limb and pat them dry and place the towel around him.  In one quick swoop I pick him up again in my arms.  I walk out of the bathroom and then exit his room carrying him.

"Where are we going?" he says full of excitement.  I do not reply, but turn the corner and ascend the stairs, carrying him down the hall and into my room.  My bedcovers are still undone from my nap the previous evening.  I lay him down in the bed scooting his feet and legs beneath the sheets. I reach over him to grab the extra pillow and pull him up slightly so I can slide the pillow beneath him and on top of the pillow he previously rested upon in order to prop him up.

"Now those are real sheets!" I proclaim to Chester.

"They are very soft.  I don't think I have ever slept on flannel sheets before."

"You're missing out."

"Maybe one day I'll sleep in these flannel sheets with you."

"Perhaps." I reply with an impish half smile.

Chester squirms around in the sheets getting comfortable, looking like a child.  He pulls the sheets up to his chin to make himself warm.  I reach down and carefully remove the wet towel from around him.

"Thank you." He whispers.  "The sheets feel even better naked!"

I reach a hand down and rub his forehead and the top line of his hair.  I wonder why I wasn't caring and tender with him last night.  Was it the weed?  No, I wanted to wound him, and still half do.  Half of me wants to take care of him like a mother to a sick child and the other half of me wants to beat the hell out of him and fuck him. - hard.  There is something about rough sex that has always appealed to me.  I haven't had much of an opportunity to explore it.  All of my girlfriends have been pretty non- experimental. Could Chester be the person to unlock my fantasies?  'What are you thinking, Mike?  You've never been interested in men before. You love women. . .' But I love being with Chester too.  The thought of being with someone like Rob or Brad just doesn't sound appealing to me, but Chester. . .  I ponder if Chester is just another one of those unfulfilled fantasies.  An obviously suppressed one.

"Lay down with me, Mike!" Chester pleads.

"In a bit, I'll be back in a little while.  You just rest your head."

"Don't leave!"

"I'll be right back, I promise." I comfort him.

Why is he being so nice to me?  And so. . .so . . . clingy.  I don't understand it.  Last night we wanted nothing to do with me, but now he's all about me. And what was with him actually wanting me to fuck him? Crazy fuck.

I turn around and walk out of the room.  I meander down the hall and the stairs into the kitchen.  'Coffee.  Definitely need coffee.'  I set up the coffee maker to make a full pot considering Joe will probably want some too when he awakes.  Joe.  I wonder what he is thinking and ponder if he has gone into hibernation.  Just as these thoughts pass through my head I hear footsteps on the stairs and sure enough they belong to Joe.  His dark brown hair is sticking up all over the place except for the right side of his head where the hair is matted down firmly against his head.  He is a dreadful sight. After his trip down the stairs he joins me in the kitchen.

"Sleep well, sunshine?" I ask.

"Shut up. . .fuckhead!" He grumbles.

"My, someone is very testy this morning!"

He looks up at me and crinkles his nose at me in contempt.

"I'm making some coffee." I inform him.

"Coffee...Mmm..."

"Meet Joe - the Cro-Magnon man! Preserved for thousands of years underneath countless sheets of ice!" I jokingly exclaim.

"What has gotten into you, Shinoda?  You must have needed to get laid!"

"That's not funny."

"It wasn't intended to be! It's sheer fact!"

"I'm glad you find entertainment in my recent lack of sexual conquests!"

"Too bad your introduction back into the world of the sexually active was with CHESTER!"

"Nice, Joe.  That's real nice."

"Sorry. . . that was a low blow.  I'm not sure what has gotten into me, I've been cranky lately."

"Yeah you have."

"Just give me some coffee!"

I wait for the coffee to finish brewing and pour Joe a cup.  I add a touch of cream - just how he likes it - and hand it to him.

"Thanks, man." he responds.

After a few minutes of silence Joe clears his throat.  "So, what was last night all about?" he asks.  "I didn't notice Chester in his bed on my way down, did you make him run away from home?"

"Very funny.  He's upstairs in my room.  I felt bad for him in that bed with those coarse, cold sheets, so I decided he needed a proper bed experience."

"I bet you did!"

"Very funny!"

"Sorry man, you just make it so easy sometimes" he says through a wide grin.

I ponder how to respond to Joe.  I don't come up with any good ideas. "Really, I don't know what the hell is going on.  I'm really confused. I've never been like that with a guy before, have you?"

"I experimented a bit in college." Joe explains.  "Nothing heavy-duty, though, you know?"

"Really!" I respond wide-eyed. "Where the heck was I when this was going on?"

"It was just at a couple parties where things got a little crazy after plenty of booze."

"Nobody invited ME to those type of parties!"

"Probably because you were too much of a goody-goody."

"I wasn't a goody-good!" I protest.

"Yeah you were! You didn't even get laid until you were twenty!"

"That wasn’t being goody-goody, that was being choosey!"

"If you were choosey, you wouldn't have lost it to the biggest slut in school."

"Candy wasn't a slut."

"Mike, her name was Candy for chrissakes!  Only strippers and sluts have names like that!"

"You aren't funny."

"I think I am!"

Annoyed I start rummaging around in the refrigerator looking for something for breakfast.  I pull out a carton of eggs and some shredded cheddar cheese.  'Chester loves eggs' I think to myself. I grab a pan and some oil and begin to fry the eggs.  Joe continues to suck down his coffee.

"Do you want some eggs?" I ask Joe.

"No, thanks.  I'm good with coffee." he responds and pours himself another cup.

Right before the eggs are finished cooking I sprinkle some of the cheese on top of them.  I grab a plate from the cupboard and sit it on the counter by the stove ready for the eggs and then pour two cups of coffee.  One black, one with cream and sugar. I place the now finished eggs on the plate and return the frying pan to the stovetop.  I stop for a moment to think and then begin to rummage through all of the cabinets.

"What are you looking for?" Joe asks.

"A tray to take this stuff up stairs with.  Do we have one?"

"In the drawer below the stove."

"Thanks."

I retrieve the tray and place the plate of eggs and two cups of coffee upon it. I grab some napkins, a fork and a banana that is sitting on top of the counter and add them to the tray.

"Well man, I’m going to go back up to talk some to Chester." I say to Joe.

"Sure, man."

I’m almost to the stairs when I hear Joe speak.

"Hey, uh, Mike."

I turn around and look at him.

"If you, uh, are ever interested in more in sexual exploration, you let me know. . ."

I’m floored by his comments and almost drop the tray. "Uh, yeah . . ." I respond uneasy, not really knowing what to say. "I’ll, uh, let you know."

‘What the fuck was that?’ I ask myself and make my way back up the stairs to my room.

"I made you breakfast!" I announce.

Chester is lying down curled up in my sheets. At first I wonder if he is asleep, but he rises when I enter. "Here you go!" I say while placing the tray down on his lap and removing my cup of coffee – the black one – from the tray. I turn around and half sit on my nightstand beside the bed.

"Eggs! Thanks, Mike!" Chester begins to eat seemingly satisfied with my cooking. "Where is your breakfast?"

"Just coffee for me morning."

 

Chapter 6

 

I sit silently watching Chester consume his eggs. Apparently he was hungry because devours them. I feel like we should talk but have no idea of what to say or where to begin. My head aches with confusion. I go over the events of last night over and over again in my head and things just don’t add up. Chester and I, in the current moment, are completely different people than we were early last night while hanging out in his room watching television. He is normally the loud, manly badass and I am usually the contemplative, sensitive thinker. How can two people change so much so rapidly?

The easy way out would be for me to blame it on the weed, but that does not explain this morning. What began as frivolous recreation - with a touch of anger - has turned into feelings. And how would Chester explain his actions? First he is fighting me, then he is asking me to fuck him, and then he’s hanging all over me like some clingy school girl. I think the thing that frightens me most is – I like it. Well, his seeming dependency is a bit overwhelming, but I am enjoying that he appears to adore me. Chester has always been nice guy, a kind guy, however, I’ve never seen his gentleness to this extent. It’s almost as if he fills a void in me that I did not know existed.

"Mike. . .Mike, you there?" I hear Chester speak. I have obviously lost myself in another world, consumed by my thoughts.

"Sorry. . .I’m still with you, Chaz."

"What’s on your mind?" he asks and takes a sip of his coffee, his eggs and banana now gone.

"What isn’t on my mind?"

We sit in silence. I stare blankly out into space. What do I say to him?

"Talk to me, Mike" he speaks softly.

I release a sigh and stand up from the nightstand I have been sitting against. "Let me get this tray out of your way. . .I’ll be right back." Chester picks up his coffee from the tray and I remove the tray from his lap. I run it downstairs to the kitchen, leaving it on the counter beside the sink. I ascend the stairs and walk in the direction of my room. Before entering, I look up at the sky and let out a sigh, thinking I might be struck with some divine inspiration but nothing happens. No answers are bestowed upon me.

I enter the room looking at him. Chester eyeballs me as I walk around to the other side of the bed and slip beneath the covers with him. He squirms down within the covers lying on his back. I slip my arm around his waist and pull him close to me, back first, in a spooning position and hold him tightly. I close my eyes and feel a tear run down my cheek. ‘Now you’re crying for crissakes!’ I scold myself.

"I like being with you like this, Mike" Chester speaks faintly.

"I like it too, Chester," I respond and kiss the back of his neck.

Chester gently breaks free of my grasp and turns to face me. After studying my face he reaches a hand up to my cheek, streaking the tear line that has stained my face. He says in a concerned tone, "you’re crying. . ."

"I’m okay." I quietly respond.

"You’re obviously not okay if you are crying. . .Mike, what is happening with us?"

"Chester, I wish I knew."

Silence falls upon the room. I feel bad because I desperately want to talk this…this ‘thing’ through but don’t have the words. Frowning, he looks at me. I feel terrible for not helping matters by keeping silent.

"Chester, what are you feeling?" I finally ask.

"I don’t know. I’m confused. I’m happy. . .I’m upset. . .I’m angry. . .I’m. . .I’m. . .enamored. . .all at once."

"I know, Chester. Believe me, I know."

"What do you feel?" he asks awkwardly.

"I basically feel the same way. I can’t really pinpoint one emotion. I’m mostly confused. But I do like this. . .I. . . I like being here with you. . . I like holding you beneath my cozy flannel sheets."

Chester moves slowly closer and presses his lips to mine. I reach out and gingerly grab the sides of his face pulling him closer to press against my lips harder. I open my mouth, releasing my tongue, pushing it past his lips. His tongue is there to greet mine. I can taste the coffee on his breath and find it oddly enticing. He moves both of his hands to rest on the top of my shoulders. This feels so right and so wrong at the same time. I worry about future consequences of our actions. I push the thought out of my mind, concentrating on our kiss: the feeling of Chester’s thin, soft lips against my fleshy, plump lips; the smell of his freshly shampooed hair; the softness of his skin; the feel of flannel sheets against my nearly bare body. In all of my life I cannot think of a better time to take a mental snapshot.

Chester lowers his hands running them down my bare chest. It is not until feeling his hands on my bare skin that I realize I’ve been traipsing around the house all morning in my boxers. ‘No wonder why Joe was so ‘friendly’ this morning,’ I think. Chester continues to work his hands down my chest until they rest on my hipbones. He pulls them towards him so that our bodies touch. His flesh feels warm against my own. I feel excitement rise up within me. He must be feeling it too because I can feel his stiffness against mine. He jerks at my hips again, grinding our groins into one another.

I release one of my hands from my grip on his face and bring it around under his arm to his back. I hold him tightly against me and pull my lips away from his long enough to whisper "Chester, you feel so good."

He releases a moan after taking in my words. I bring my hand down from around his back and gently push his arm holing my hip aside. He moves it up to rest on my back. I continue to lower my hand to his thighs and lightly caress the insides of them. I slowly make my way up to his solid erection and stroke it with my hand.

"Oh, Mike." Chester gasps into my mouth.

I increase the pressure of my lips to his, kissing him feverishly and continue to stroke him. Chester pulls away from our kiss, seemingly out of breath, and lets out a moan. After minutes of enjoying the pleasure I am bringing him he pulls at my hand.

"Mike, stop" he breathily speaks.

"What’s wrong?"

"Not like this. . .I don’t want to come like this."

"What do you want?"

"I want to…to…have you. . ."

"What?"

"You know what I mean. Please, Mike?" he says sweetly.

I move my hand away now feeling very nervous. Chester appeared to be in pain last night when I forced myself on him and I am not sure I am ready for that. I push my apprehension aside wanting to please him. At the very least, I owe him that much.

"Okay."

Looking at me, Chester bites his lower lip. Excitement fills his eyes.

He pushes me on my back and kneels over me. His fingers seize the elastic top of my boxers and he pulls them down, removing them. He climbs back over me and stares down at my now naked body. He studies every inch of me and releases an "Mmmm" while licking his lips. I feel like I am on display, and like it. He looks up into my eyes in a sensually-devilish fashion.

He lowers himself down, resting his body on top of mine and kisses my neck. Lightly he nibbles at my soft flesh. If I knew being with Chester could feel this good I would have made a move on him years ago. He lowers his lips onto my chest – kissing, licking and nibbling. He takes my right nipple into his mouth and reaches a hand to pinch my exposed, left nipple – hard – sending a wave of excitement through my body. I let out a deep sigh of pleasure.

"Oh, Mikey likes it a little rough!" Chester teases.

"Be nice!" I snap at him.

"I will Mike. . .I’m just teasing you. Although, for what you did last night I ought to--"

"Don’t even think about it!" I cut him off, slightly raising my voice. I have no idea where his twisted mind is leading, and don’t want to. Today has been so good I would hate for him to fuck it up by providing me with payback. Because I’ve learned time and time again – payback is always a bitch. The thought somewhat frightens me because I know someday I’ll get mine for being a prick to Chester last night.

"Mike, really, I’m not going to hurt you" he reassures me.

"I’m sorry if I overreacted."

"Would you shut up and let me make out with you?" he says almost impatiently and returns his lips to my nipple, now only pinching lightly at the left. In and effort of equal opportunity he moves his lips to my left nipple, lightly biting at it, and gently pinches the right. As much as I enjoy Chester’s touch I begin to grow wrestles with desire. Chester senses this and moves his nibbles and kisses down my chest and stomach. He continues to lower himself down my body. I burn with anticipation. He nestles the side of his face against my cock rubbing his soft skin up and down my firmness. He continues to do this with the other side of his face and then returns to the original cheek. Chester moves his legs out from beneath himself and rests his torso on the bed. He moves his tongue to the very base of my cock, licking my perineum. Never in my life has a woman given attention to this completely underutilized party of my body. I think about how much sense it makes being with Chester. Obviously, he’s a man and knows what men like. I feel goose bumps infuse my skin.

He moves his tongue, concentrating his efforts on my scrotum. Licking slowly from bottom to top, again and again. I think to myself that he is ‘Chester, the great King of All Teases.’ Gradually he works his way up to the shaft of my length. Repeating the same licking technique he previously displayed. I feel that I might burst if he doesn’t take proper action.

"Chester, please." I whine almost taken aback at the tone of my words.

"Shhhh. . ." Chester responds and graciously takes my head into his mouth. His tongue, so warm and wet on my flesh, makes me shudder. He expertly envelops my entire length in his mouth, resting his thumb and forefinger around the bottom of my shaft.

"Holy fuck" I cry out.

Chester continues to bob his mouth up and down my stiffness until I can no longer hold back and I empty myself into his mouth. He excitedly swallows the fluid, moaning "Mmmm. . ." I am surprised, yet delighted that Chester is such a skilled lover. Why didn’t I know this sooner? Sure, he’s been with countless women, but I would have never guessed he could give such great head.

Chester pulls himself to my lips and kisses me passionately. My stomach blissfully stirs with butterflies. My tongue explores his mouth tasting my own fluid, which I find terribly sexy. He pulls himself away from me and stares down into my eyes. "Now I’m going to have you" he speaks matter-of- factly. Chester lifts his head and peers around the room. His eyes rest on my nightstand.

"Now, if you are like any red blooded male, you’ll have lotion or something of the like in there," he says, moving over to the nightstand and opening its drawer. Sure enough, he finds what he was looking for.

He returns to the bed and kneels between my legs. He fidgets with the top and finally gets it to pop open.

"Sit up," he commands and I obey. He hands the bottle of lotion to me. Perplexed, I look up at him.

"I want you to apply it for me," he explains.

Understanding, I squirt a generous amount of the lotion onto my hands and apply to his now solid cock, running my hands up and down his length.

"Don’t get too carried away," he says pulling my hands away by my wrists. "Now lay back down."

I do as I am instructed and return to my former position on the bed. He grabs the bottle of lotion and releases some onto his hand. Looking at me, he slips his hand between my legs, finding my opening. He rubs the lotion around the opening and inserts two fingers into me, working them in and out, trying to get me as lubbed as possible in an attempt not to hurt me. I am amazed and impressed by his generosity considering the way I treated him, and half regret how I behaved. Chester places his hands on the underside of my knees and pulls me towards him slightly. He moves into them, draping my legs over his shoulder.

He moves forward and gently slides himself into me. I wince, half in shock and half in pain. He leans forward and places his face in front of mine. "I’ll be gentle, I promise," he speaks and leans down to kiss me. He backs away from my lips to resume his pleasure. Slowly he pulls himself in and out of me. Realizing that I have tensed all of my muscles, I try to relax. The pain initially inflicted within me subsides and I am thankful for Chester kindly applying so much lotion. His steady thrusting begins to feel surprisingly extraordinary.

"Ohhhh…Mike….Mike…." Chester repeats. The way he moans my name is irresistible. I study him as he drives himself in and out of me. His head is slightly tilted back, exposing the fragile skin of his neck. The sensual look on his face reads sheer pleasure. Staring at him, I have the desire to completely devour him. He begins to pick up his pace within me. I know his orgasm is imminent.

"Ahhh, Mike! Mike!" he almost shouts. "Oh God, Mike, I love you. Ohhhh…." he gasps and releases his fluid into me.

I’m enthralled by his sexiness and surprised at his bedside chatter. Does he realize what he said?

"Kiss me!" I plea, and he graciously abides. While kissing me, he slowly removes himself, lowers my legs and climbs on top of me. Exhausted, he lets his full weight rest upon me until he realizes my breathing is hindered by his weight. He slides himself off of me and onto his side, facing me. I roll on my side so that I can look at him.

"Chester, that was fucking phenomenal." I say to him wide-eyed.

"I told you I’d be gentle."

 

Chapter 7

 

Exhausted and content with Chester’s arms around me I drift off to sleep. I wake to the late afternoon sun ungraciously inviting itself into my room. With my eyes closed I feel around the bed for Chester, wanting to pull him close against me. Feeling an empty void beside me I open my eyes. No Chester. I sit up straight in a panic and look around the room – still no sign of my lover. Disappointed I drop myself swiftly against the bed, lying on my back. Why did he go? In disappointment over not waking up beside him and confusion of the days events tears stream out of my eyes. Unsuccessfully I try to hold them back. What is happening to me? Yesterday I was a straight man, a little lonely from enduring over a year without a date. Now, I’ve almost convinced myself that I’m in love with my best friend, a man – and additionally my band mate! I obviously was not thinking rationally about the repercussions of my actions when I first pressed my lips against Chester’s. How is this going to affect the band? I was only thinking out of my own selfish need and desire, not taking into consideration the five other lives potentially altered by my actions.

I grab the pillow that Chester earlier laid his head upon, bring it towards me and clutch it against my chest. I bury my face in it and inhale deeply taking in the flowery scent of his shampoo. I remember giving him a bath and how cute he looked. I remember the look on his face when I placed him in the tub and he exclaimed "bubbles!"

Perhaps he is just in the bathroom? Perhaps he ran outside for a smoke? I don’t know who I’m kidding - certainly not myself.

I hear a light knock on the door. Startled, I throw the pillow down beside me and turn my head to see who it is. Just Joe. My heart sinks.

"Hey, man, you okay? I just wanted to check in with you because you’ve been in bed all day."

"I’m okay." I lie, hoping he doesn’t notice the tear streaks down my cheeks.

"Do you know where Chester is?"

"He went out. . . I’m not sure where. He appeared a bit distressed and ran out of the house in a hurry. I thought you two might have had a fight. . ."

"No, we’re okay. . .I think." I pause. "How long ago did he leave?"

"Maybe about an hour and a half ago."

"Damn!" I snap.

Joe moves over to my bed and sits on the edge of it. Looking thoughtfully at me he speaks, "Mike, are you sure you’re okay? What is going on?"

"I wish I could tell you, I would if I actually knew."

"Is Chester angry with you about last night?"

"I don’t know. I don’t think so. I thought we had worked all of that out. Things seemed to be going really well this morning. Maybe almost too well."

"How do you, uh, feel about him?"

"I feel really ridiculous talking about this," I respond, cheeks reddened with embarrassment.

"I take it that that means you have feelings for him, maybe more than just friendship?"

"I don’t think I am ready to talk about this. I’m too fucked up and pretty embarrassed about everything."

"Mike, this is me, Joe. We’ve been friends since college. You know I always have your back. I always will, no matter what you do or say."

"Thanks, man, that really means a lot. I mean it." I pause, trying to decide what to do with myself. Sitting here talking to Joe does sound appealing. Just speaking what is on your mind, whether it is coherent or not, is always cathartic. The person I really need to talk to, though, is Chester. But what do I say? Maybe I should figure out what I’m feeling first. Damn it - I already know what I’m feeling. I’m just too afraid to admit it to myself – too afraid to admit it to Chester – too afraid of the way it will change my life, not to mention the lives of my 5 band mates. What would the others think? Would they be as understanding as Joe?

I sit up in my bed and deeply sigh. I stare at the pattern of the plaid sheets - countless lines crossing and intersecting. I run my hand over the lines thinking how they are much like my emotions at the moment: running in different directions – some parallel, some perpendicular; some points meeting, some points helplessly apart.

"Mike?" Joe asks softly.

"I’m sorry. . .my mind is somewhere else right now."

"It’s okay, man. Really." He pauses and takes in a deep breath. "I think you know what you need to do."

"I do. I need to find him," I respond, feeling a little better that I have made at least one solid determination this whole day. ‘Progress,’ I think to myself.

Joe stands up from his seat on my bed. "Well, I’ll let you get cleaned up."

"Thanks. . . hey, do you know if Chester took the car?"

"I don’t think he did, I didn’t hear it start after he left." Joe turns and begins to walk out the door.

"Hey Joe. . ." I call to him as he steps out into the hall.

"Yeah?" he responds, turning around to look at me.

"Thanks. Thanks for everything."

"No problem. Good luck with Chester," he speaks and walks down the hall.

I pull myself out of my bed and drag myself to the bathroom. I get washed up and change into fresh clothes. Slipping into an Adidas jacket, I hurry out the door. It is already dark outside. I look at my watch - 7:30 pm. I must have taken an excessive amount of time getting showered and changed, moving lethargically while wallowing in self-pity.

Now where would I go if I were Chester? There aren’t too many options in walking distance. I assume the most likely place he would go is Lefty’s, a hole-in-the-wall watering hole we frequent when back home in L.A. Lefty’s has a small crowd of regulars and is virtually hidden in between shops and restaurants. Dank and gritty as it may be, we like it because the alcohol is cheap, it’s in walking distance of home, and we never have to worry about getting recognized. That is one of the drawbacks of fame. You can’t live like a normal person. A night out to a movie or a trip to the grocery store turns into a big ordeal if someone notices one of us. Therefore, normally while at home we stick to the handful of places we know are safe, or go out incognito, looking like complete bums in order not to be identified.

Walking past the Gas & Go on my way to Lefty’s, I suspect Chester stopped in to get a fresh pack of smokes. The thought produces a small grin on my face. I’ve always been captivated by watching Chester smoke. I understand the concept behind smoking – to have something to occupy to occupy your hands and mouth; to get a drug rush when your body needs it. I have, however, never been a smoker myself. Sure, I’ll bum one every now and then when I am struck with the urge, but they taste just dreadful, not to mention make you stink to high hell. I do, though, think it is sexy – especially when Chester does it. The way he holds his cigarette, the way he pinches the butt in his mouth when inhaling, the way spirals of smoke waft out of his thin, slightly puckered lips. He always yells at me for staring at him. He thinks it’s disapproval, but it has always been fascination. Now, to me, my staring takes on a whole new meaning. Perhaps all along it was more than me just studying my friend. Perhaps it wasn’t fascination with the smoking at all, rather, it was fascination with him. I am partially inspired to drop by the Gas & Go and purchase a pack of cigarettes for myself, but rational thinking gets the best of me. Sure, now I think rationally. Where was this sensibility over the past 24 hours?

I finally arrive at Lefty’s and take the narrow, cement steps down to the bar. I wonder whose brilliant idea it was to open a bar downstairs. It is probably because the rent is cheap, however, it is very inconvenient after one too many beers. I’ve tripped countless times up those steps on my way back up to the sidewalk after getting shit-faced.

I eyeball the bar, and sure enough Chester is perched on one of the stools up by the bar – our usual spot. He’s engrossed in conversation with all lovely, brown haired girl sitting next to him. I stand frozen, studying them. They are laughing and appear to be flirting back and forth. I know Chester well enough to know when he’s flirting. He usually cracks jokes and laughs more frequently than usual. After telling a joke, he’ll make unnecessary contact with his victim by patting their knee or laying a hand briefly on their arm or shoulder. "Chester - that fucking slut." I say in contempt under my breath, feeling a ping of jealousy. ‘Be cool, Mike, be cool. Don’t overreact, that will scare him away. . .and your overreaction is just what he wants’ my mind speaks. I think how cunning Chester is. He knew I would come looking for him, that is why he did not take the car. He wanted me to find him here, with some sexy, young girl to throw mud in my face; to tell me what happened between us was nothing. But it wasn’t, I am certain of this.

‘Okay Mike, time to win an Academy Award nomination. . .remember, nothing is wrong. . . everything is just great’ my mind pep-talks me. I put on a convincing smile and walk over to the bar.

"Hey there, Chazy Chaz!" I beam while giving him a pat on the back. I take the empty seat on the side of him not occupied by the girl, trapping him between his new plaything and myself.

"Mike!" Chester speaks in an astonished tone. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I was getting restless at home after being inside for so long, so I thought I’d step out for a beer. I asked Joe to come along, but he wasn’t up for it." I lie.

"Oh" he remarks, still sounding surprised and squirming slightly on his stool.

‘Oh, please, quit the act. I know very well what you are trying to do to me, asshole.’ I think to myself.

"Uh, Mike this is. . .uh. . .uh. . ." he stares at the girl, apparently not able to remember her name.

"Barbie," she interjects, somewhat annoyed.

‘Barbie. How nice. How so very perfect,’ my mind hisses. "Hi, Barbie, I’m Mike. It’s nice to meet you!" I say in a friendly tone and extend my hand to shake hers. Inside, I’m fuming, but suppress my anger for Chester’s benefit. I refuse to let him win this game. "Gee, Barbie, I’ve never seen you here before. Are you new in town?" I ask pleasantly.

"Uh, no. I’ve been in L.A. two years now. This is my first time here, though. I actually bumped into Chester down the street at the Gas & Go. We were both in line buying cigarettes and he asked me if I was up for getting a beer."

‘How fucking peachy-perfect!’ I say to myself sarcastically pleasant as if I was the captain of the local high school cheerleading team. ‘That fucking asshole, how could he do this to me? What is he trying to prove?’

"Wow, that’s a really cute story. How lucky for both of you!" I respond with a toothy grin. "I’m Chester’s roommate."

Chester continues to squirm in his seat. I love every moment of it. And to think I was going to confess my love to him! Fine. If he wants to play games, then I’ll give him just what he wants.

"Roommates, cool. You guys must have fun living together."

"Yeah, it’s the best – we’re very close. Aren’t we Chester?" I ask nudging him with my elbow.

"Uh, yeah. . .real close" he responds uneasily.

The bartender comes over and asks what I’m drinking. "PBR, please" I respond.

"Sure thing!" he says pleasantly and grabs a Patt’s Blue Ribbon, removes the cap, and places it down in front of me. I take a large swig and place the beer back down on the counter while getting up from my seat.

"I’m going to run to the can, I’ll be right back," I say and give Chester a hearty pat on his back. I make my way to the bathroom to take care of business. The walls in the small room are littered with drawings and comical sayings. I always find something new every time I go in there. I have to admit that at least 25% of the doodles on the wall were put there by Joe and me. We already both love to draw. However, when we get properly wasted the urge to pepper the walls with mindless garble and drawings is too much to resist. We always manage to come up with something sick and twisted for good ol’ Lefty’s. Today while relieving myself I find a simple statement that makes me laugh for no good reason: "That’s Dirty!" There are so many implications that statement could have – a good retort for so many situations. I think about the word "dirty" and how underutilized it is today in current society. When I was a teen I used to look at "dirty" pictures and read "dirty" magazines?’ I laugh to myself.

I finish relieving myself and lightly shake myself dry, returning my now flaccid cock to my pants. I frown as I catch a glimpse of myself before placing myself backing my boxer shorts and zipping up my fly. I can think of much more entertaining uses for my penis right now rather than going to the bathroom.

I exit the bathroom and begin my stroll back to the bar. Looking up I see Chester and the Barbie Doll engaged in a kiss. ‘What the fuck?’ my mind fumes. I feel hurt and betrayed. How can Chester do such a thing after everything we shared? I thought we truly had the beginnings something special. He seemed so into me earlier today – and he told me he loved me for crissakes! Perhaps it was just one of those things you blurt out in bed and don’t realize what you are saying. I’ve done that before. I once accidentally called a girlfriend by the wrong name in bed. That didn’t go over too well, but it really didn’t mean anything. At least I don’t think it did.

I take my place on the barstool to Chester’s right. Chester pulls away from the girl. I try to hide my emotions and return to perky, smiley Mike.

"I’m sorry to spoil your fun." I say.

"Oh, that’s alright" Barbie reassures me. "I guess it is not very good manners to be kissing like that in a public place."

Annoyed and angered I decide to have a little fun with the situation - pay Chester back for the hurt that he has brought me. ‘Sorry, Chaz, No more Mr. Nice Mike.’ I declare in my head.

"You know what isn’t good manners?" I begin. Chester glares at me. "Fucking your roommate, who, mind you, has given you a nice bath and has made you breakfast - leaving him alone in bed to find you gone - and then hooking up with some ho right in front of his very eyes!"

"Mike, that’s enough." Chester scolds me, sounding like my 7th grade math teacher.

"I’m not a ho!" Barbie snaps at me, furrowing her brow, and looks at Chester. "What is he talking about? Are you. . .sleeping with him?"

Chester slumps slightly over and stares blankly at his half empty beer.

"Chester?" Barbie says moving in closer to him. "Is this true?" she demands. He shrugs his shoulders and continues staring at his beer, now rotating it in circles on top of the bar. "I don’t fucking need this!" she snaps, grabs her purse and walks out.

Chester turns to me, anger painted across his face. "That was nice, Mike. Real nice. I hope you fucking feel better about yourself now."

"What the hell were you trying to prove, Chester?" I angrily ask.

"Don’t turn this around on me!"

"Oh, please! I wasn’t the one picking up chicks in gas stations! How could you do that right after leaving my bed?" I demand.

"Can you hold it down a little? People are starting to stare."

"I don’t care who the fuck is staring!"

"Let’s go and talk about this at home."

"Are you embarrassed by me, Chester?"

"No. . .I don’t know. I just… I don’t want to talk about this here, come on," he speaks and gets up from his chair, pulling me up from my seat by the back of my jacket. He pulls a twenty-dollar bill out of his wallet and throws it down on the counter. "I’ve got yours," he indicates to me. He turns to the bartender. "Thanks, Charlie. I’ll see you later."

"Alrighty, Chester. You take care!" the bartender responds. "See ya, Mike!"

"Bye." I respond shortly while walking past the bar.

We walk outside and make our way up the awful staircase. Luckily, I’ve only had one beer. Chester handles the stairs just fine, so I assume he hasn’t gotten too many drinks into himself tonight. Although, he can drink everyone I know under the table.

We walk home in silence. Small tears stream down the side of my face. I sniffle and Chester peers over at me, but I ignore him. Thoughts clutter my head. I feel hurt and angry. What am I going to say to him? Can his feelings really change so rapidly? I thought today meant something. It did for me. Sure, I was confused and I knew he was also, but I thought we said a lot to one another non-verbally after trying to discuss the situation.

We walk up to the front porch, Chester in front of me. He fiddles briefly with the door lock before getting it open and holds the door open for me.

"Thanks." I mutter.

"C’mon" he says, walking to the back door. We step out on the porch and he immediately lights a cigarette. ‘No, don’t smoke,’ my mind pleas ‘I can’t watch you smoke now. . .not now.’ He exhales and I watch circles of smoke escape his lips. My heart softens. As angry as I am I can’t deny how cute he is when he smokes.

"So, go ahead," he says.

"What? You were the one who wanted to come back here and talk about it."

"That’s nice," he responds coldly.

Again I can feel tears begin to well up in my eyes. "What were you doing, Chaz?" I say fighting back the tears.

"Nothing. . .I don’t know. I . . .Shit, Mike, what is happening with us?"

"You tell me. I though everything was just fine until I woke and found you gone. I knew something was wrong the moment I saw that empty spot next to me. And to make matters worse I find you in a bar, flirting with some stupid girl! Did this morning mean anything to you?"

Chester takes another deep drag off of his cigarette and exhales. "I don’t know what I was doing. I was scared. I didn’t know what to make of everything that has happened. . .of how I felt about you."

I stare at him inhale his cigarette another time, his hands slightly shaking. He pauses and then speaks. "I. . .I was afraid that it was just about the sex to you. I was afraid that when you woke, you would have wished I wasn’t there, that it was all a mistake. . .I was afraid of turning into some fag. I mean, I have a reputation to maintain! What would people do if they found out I was some homo?" Chester pulls his cigarette to his lips, inhales, and quickly blows out the smoke. "And I don’t even know if I’m even gay or not. I’ve never had feelings about a man before. I… I just… I don’t know what I fucking think."

I study his face and see that it is riddled with saddness. I want to take him in my arms and hold on tightly and not let go. "Why did you have to kiss that girl, Chester? Right there, in front of my fucking face," I ask.

"It was stupid, Mike. It was a stupid thing to do – I know that, and I’m sorry. I truly am." A tear escapes down Chester’s left cheek. " I wanted to see if I was romantic with a woman if it would change the way I felt about you. I wanted to prove to myself I didn’t have feelings for you."

"Did it work?"

"No, it didn’t! The whole night all I could do was think about you. How I much rather be at home with you instead of in skanky Lefty’s with some boring girl." Tears pour out from his eyes. He hastily lights up another one, his hands now shaking more rapidly than before. I move put my arm around him and he swats it away. "Get off me!" he speaks sharply, releasing more tears.

"Chester," I begin. "I came looking for you tonight because I wanted to tell you something. . ." He peers up at me through the frames of his glasses. "I can understand that you are upset and confused. I wasn’t sure initially what to think about all of this myself. . .but when I concentrated on my feelings, the answer to me was evident. . ."

"What is it, Mike?"

"Chester, I love you. I do. I don’t know what I can do or say to prove it to you, but I do." Tears flood from my eyes. Sobbing, I continue to speak. "I don’t care what anyone thinks. Who cares if they call us a couple of homos? I don’t! That shit doesn’t matter. You can’t live your life for other people, if you do, you will just be miserable. What is important to me is you, and I don’t want to lose that. I don’t care what anyone says. If the media wants to have a field day let them. Because what I do know is without you, I’d be miserable. When I woke today, alone, it broke my heart. I don’t want to wake every day and feel like that."

Chester now stares at me, eyes wide and mouth gaping, apparently at a loss for words.

"Well don’t just stand there," I say, "come here!"

He tosses his cigarette off the porch and rushes over to me. I wrap my arms around him. It feels so good to have him close to me again. He pulls his arms around my shoulders and holds me tightly.

"Oh Mike," he half whispers and half sobs. "Thank you."

I pull back a little and hold his face by his chin. I peer at his now red, puffy eyes. They look soft and thoughtful. I pull him into my lips. His piercing is cold against my bottom lip - and I love every second of it. I feel his tongue on my lips and open my mouth, caressing his tongue with my own. I feel a faint flutter in my stomach, a warm happiness. Our mouths separate and we hug each other tightly, holding on like our lives depended on it.

"Mike," he whispers in my ear, "I love you too."

 

Chapter 8

 

The cold night air begins to penetrate through our clothing as we continue to embrace.

"Mikey, it’s getting cold, let’s go inside." Chester whispers. I get the urge to reprimand him by pointing out it was his idea to go on the porch in the first place, but I decide to save my breath for the time being.

I lower my arms from around him and grab his hand, leading him into the house. The heat of our home feels comforting against my skin. It feels good to be at home with Chester – our own personal space where we can be together freely. Visions of us together watching movies on the couch, taking long, hot showers and cooking meals together flash happily through my head. ‘I think Chaz definitely needs an apron for when he cooks for me,’ I ponder picturing Chester in a white frilly apron and nothing else. ‘Definitely!’

I hear a rustling ate the top of the stairs and see Joe peering his head over the stairway at us. "Oh, hi guys. I thought I heard you come in, but didn’t see you" he speaks.

"Boy wonder needed a cigarette," I respond motioning my head towards Chester.

"Imagine that!" Joe says sarcastically while grinning. "Hey, you two look pretty cozy, everything work it’s way out?" He takes a few steps down the stairs, holding on to the railing.

"Uh, yeah, thanks. " I respond, contemplating if I should tell Joe that he should probably get used to seeing Chester and I together. I decide it makes sense seeing as how we live together and it will be awfully hard to hide. Chester and I will have to determine at a later date what we are going to say to Brad, Rob and Phoenix.

Chester releases my hand and puts his arms around me, providing me with a warm, side hug. I swing an arm around his shoulder.

"I guess today is your lucky day, Joe – you can be the first to know," I begin. "Chester and I are now together."

"Together?" he asks.

"Yeah, you know what I mean. . ."

"No, I don’t. What are you saying?"

"C’mon, Joe! I begin to get frustrated. Verbalizing the state of my relationship with Chester is difficult enough as is.

"Quit getting all excited, Mike. I know what you are saying. I just wanted to make you squirm a little!" Joe responds with a toothy grin.

"You’re not funny!" I snap back, trying not to crack a smile. I’m unsuccessful and give in to Joe’s teasing and release a small chuckle.

"Alrighty then. Well, you two love birds have fun tonight." Joe speaks while walking back up the stairs to his room. He gets out of sight and I hear him yell "And try not to use all of my KY Jelly!"

"Crazy fuck." I snicker.

I turn towards Chester and place both of my arms over his shoulders. "I hope you are okay with me telling Joe about us, I spoke with him earlier today - so he already had an idea of what was going on."

"I’m fine." Chester answers. "I’m actually pretty flattered. You wouldn’t have told Joe if you weren’t serious about us."

I smile and give him a kiss on the cheek. "So what is on the agenda for tonight?"

"Let’s just watch some TV. Maybe there is a movie on HBO – or better yet maybe Sex in the City is on!" he responds excitedly.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. "Whatever you want, Chester."

I follow him into his room, remove my jacket and place it on the chair in the corner of his room. It is understood that we will watch TV in his room or the living room because I do not have a television in my bedroom. I’m not against television; in fact I have the opposite problem. I turn on the TV and normally get so engrossed that I spend countless hours doing nothing but gaping. It isn’t so bad now when we have time to kill, however, when we are at home on a stringent rehearsing schedule before a tour it’s hell. Chester and Joe would have to fight with me to get showered and then they would have to drag me out of the house. In an effort to keep me on track before the leg of the tour we just completed, Joe removed the TV from my room and put it in the studio. I don’t see why we needed a TV in the studio, but my personal suspicion is that Joe likes to watch porn in there late at night while working on new music. I learned my lesson to not turn the TV on in the studio because the last time I did Joe had left one of his videos in the player and I caught and eyeful of Asian girls shitting all over the place. He’s into some real sick, kinky stuff. But you’ve got to love him – he’s like no other.

Chester rolls down the sheets of his bed and places two pillows against the headboard for our backs. He removes his thin jacket and jumps into the bed. When we are home Chester spends 50% of his time in his bed. ‘Lucky for me!’ I think with a smile. When we are on the road he is all over the place, like a kid with ADHD. He wants to explore the cities we go to, find all of the hidden spots in the venue where we aren’t supposed to go, and eat in every restaurant possible. However, back in L.A. he’s a homebody.

"I’m going to grab a beer, do you want anything?" I ask him making my way towards the door.

"A beer sounds great."

I open the refrigerator door and grab two beers. I search around for something to eat, however, the only thing I find besides beer and condiments is a half-eaten, moldy Subway sub.

I pop both of the caps off of the beers and place Chester’s on the counter. I lean my back against the refrigerator and take a hearty swig of my Heineken. I mull over the events of the evening and feel a bitterness rising inside of me. Everything seems great with Chester and I now, however, my feelings are still bruised about the scene in Lefty’s earlier tonight. I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t have shown up. Would he have gone home with Barbie The Bitch? Or worse, would he have brought her here and fucked her under our own roof? I wouldn’t put it past him. Chester has frequently exercised poor judgment, especially when he has been drinking.

My thoughts make me lose the urge to cuddle up on Chester’s bed with him and watch Sex in the City or some other crappy show of which he can’t get enough. My feelings of resentment contrasting with thoughts of my conversation with Chester on the porch sharpen my senses. My skin grows hot, my teeth clench and my groin stiffens. When I pull myself away from my thoughts and back to reality I am surprised to find I am hard.

"Everything okay in there?" Chester shouts from his room.

I pause for a few moments, contemplating, and yell back, "Hey, can you come here for a moment?" I place my beer down on the counter.

I hear the rustle of Chester’s sheets as he gets up from his bed. ‘Damn cotton sheets! I need to get him some real sheets if he expects me to ever sleep in his room again!" I see Chester turn the corner and grab him. I push him into the middle of the kitchen and turn his back towards me.

"Mikey, what are you doing?" he giggles.

"Shut up!" I command.

"Mike, what’s gotten into you? We’re missing Sex in the City and I haven’t seen this episode yet!"

I push him into the kitchen counter on the far side of the room. "I don’t give a fuck about Sex in the City!"

"Relax! We can watch whatever you want. Just let me go!"

I reach my hands around his waist and unbuckle his belt.

"Christ, Mike, don’t you ever get enough?" he speaks in an astonished tone.

"Shut your mouth!" I hiss while I unbutton and unzip his pants. I grasp my hands around the top of his baggy kakis and his striped boxer shorts and pull them down to his ankles. He fights with me, but I overpower him and hold him still.

"We have some unfinished business to tend to."

"Mike, what are you talking about, stop it!" distress begins to seep into his voice.

I my arm against his upper back and shove him into the counter so that he is bending at the waist. I reach my hand over to a nearby drawer and open it, searching. "Ah ha!" I say aloud as my hands tightly wrap themselves around a black spatula.

"Mike!" Chester shrieks.

I rub the flat part of the spatula in tiny circles against his bare bottom soothing it like the calm before a storm. I bring my arm slightly backwards, removing the touch of the spatula from Chester. Firmly I swing, the spatula making contact with Chester.

"Ow!" he yelps.

Again I swat him.

"Mike!" his voice wavers.

I smack him yet another time.

"Stop, please!"

"You don’t like that?" I say angrily. "Oh, poor Chester. Poor baby. Well, that is EXACTLY what it felt like when I walked into the bar tonight and saw you with that slut!"

"I’m sorry, Mike! I told you I was sorry!" he whines.

"What were you going to do with her, Chester? Were you going to fuck her?"

"No, Mike! I wasn’t. I promise."

I swat him again.

"Chester," I begin, "You kissed her in the fucking bar. That wasn’t exactly moving slow. We all know how you are when you are out drinking and stalking your prey."

"Mike, I wasn’t going to do anything. I just wanted to kiss her and see how it made me feel. . ."

Swat.

"…honestly, Mike. And do you know what I was thinking? I wished she was you! I just wanted to be kissing you, no one else!"

"I don’t believe you," I say, the hurt in my voice evident. I wonder what the fuck I’m doing. My actions aren’t solving or helping anything. Well, they are helping me get a massive hard-on. I peer down at Chester’s flesh where I have hit him. His cheeks have a rosy glow. ‘How fucking sexy!’ I say to myself taking another swat just to hear the thud of the spatula against his bare skin. Shivers climb up my spine. ‘Hit him more, hit him more!’ the Evil Mike in me shouts. ‘No, you’re hurting him, just stop!’ Nice Mike argues.

"Mike," Chester speaks, sounding defeated, "I love you. I wouldn’t intentionally hurt you."

His words hit me heavy. ‘Intentionally hurt – like I am doing to him – and getting off on it.’ I drop the spatula to the floor. I run my hands up the back of his t-shirt exploring his pale, warm flesh. I spin him around and engage him in an iron hard kiss. I run my hands up the back of his shirt, manically kissing and pawing him. I feel his arms slide around my waist, pulling me closer. He steps out of his pants and boxers that are constricting his ankles and kicks them aside. I feel his hands tug at my shirt and pull it off of my body. He roughly scratches the nails of his hand across the flesh of my chest and I grab his wrist.

"Don’t even think about it." I say in an authoritative tone while staring at him.

I grab the wrist of his other hand that is around my back forcing him to release his grip on me. I push him away slightly. Lowering my hands to my belt buckle, I look up at him while I unfasten it. Still glaring at him, I undo my pants and drop them to the floor and kick them aside. I lower my boxer shorts and step out of them and toss them across the kitchen.

"Take of your shirt," I command.

He slowly unbuttons his short-sleeve plaid shirt and drops it to the floor.

I inspect his body from head to toe, releasing an audible "Mmm."

I raise my hands and rest them on top of his shoulders and push down on them roughly, making him fall to his knees.

"Suck me," I say malevolently.

He peers up at me innocently at first, fading into deviousness. ‘That’s right, Chester, you know you want it. You can’t get enough of me,’ I think.

He reaches out and takes my stiffness in his hand and studies it.

I lurch slightly towards him and murmur, "C’mon, Chester, put your lips around me. I want to feel me in your mouth."

He looks back up at me. "I want to fuck your mouth, Chester. . .I want to come on your face."

Still looking up at me he envelops my erection with his mouth. The warm wetness of his mouth makes me gasp. I concentrate not to break my gaze away from Chester’s. Watching him in the bright frutescent light of the kitchen, tasting me, almost makes my knees buckle. I fight to maintain my stance combating to conceal the control he has over me at this very moment. He sinks my length deeply in his mouth, as far as his body will allow. Rhythmically he moves back and forth over my length never ceasing to look away. I unknowingly clench my teeth concentrating on the sensations his lips and tongue bring me.

"That’s right, Chester. Take me deep, baby." I carnally speak. "You know just how to suck me." My words bring me immense excitement and I wonder if I say them more for Chester’s benefit or my own. I’ve never been one to engage in naughty pillow talk, but when I am with him it just spills out. He brings out the beast in me, and I love it – every second of it.

Chester reaches his hand to his mouth and briefly takes a finger in it, removing me from his touch only briefly. He slides his now moistened finger between my legs and finds my opening. I gasp as he slowly inserts his finger inside of me while he continues to rhythmically move his mouth over my length. He moves his finger in pace with his mouth.

"Yeah, Chester. Keep it up, baby, I’m almost there." I say while I reach my hand down and wrap my thumb and forefinger around the base of my erection. The sensations Chester delivers to me send my head whirling. Just as I feel the first twinge of orgasm, I pull myself out of Chester’s mouth and proceed to manipulate myself with my hand. I place my free hand on top of Chester’s head holding him in place. I feel my fluid exiting my body and gaze in awe as I deposit my seed on Chester’s lovely face. Chester opens his mouth and holds out his tongue as if he was a child catching snow, catching something more sinister in his mouth instead. ‘Naughty, naughty Chester!’ I think to myself.

Chester gently removes his finger from within me. I breathe deeply and stare down at him. He looks back up at me, angelically, with my fluid strewn across his face. He grabs my hips and pulls me down to the floor. I can feel his firmness brush against me. He places his hands around the back of my head and pulls me in for a deep kiss. As we kiss my face is moistened with my own liquid. Feverishly, I kiss him, our tongues dancing roughly against one another. I break our kiss and run my tongue up the side of his cheek, collecting my fluid on my tongue. I kiss him again, forcing my coated tongue into his mouth. He returns my kiss, frantically moaning.

I place my arms around him and pick him up, cradling him. I walk into his bedroom and place him down on the bed. I adjust his bed pillows behind his back, slightly propping him up. Quickly I run to the bathroom and dampen a washcloth. I return and wipe Chester’s face clean of the sticky fluid now drying against his light skin.

"Thank you." I whisper in his ear and kiss him on the cheek. Tossing the washcloth to the floor I kiss a line down the middle of his chest, past his navel and to his hardness. Swirling my tongue around the tip of his hard- on I gently stroke his shaft with my hand. I pause briefly and deposit a patch of my saliva to my hand and return it to stroke Chester’s body.

"Oh, Mike. . ." he moans. I love hearing my name on his lips when I am brining him pleasure. I take his length completely in my mouth, surprised at my agility. Steadily I rock my mouth back and forth along his length.

"Mike, will you swallow me?" he requests almost begging. Not wanting to part my lips from his flesh I glance my eyes up at him and nod. I release my hand from my grip around him and concentrate all of my efforts with my lips and tongue.

I hear Chester release a high pitched "Oh!" and know that he is at pleasure’s edge. Loudly he moans as I taste his fluid fill my mouth. I continue to suck gathering all of his liquid and swallow hard. I lightly move my tongue around his entire length cleaning up every last drop of Chester’s essence.

I remove my mouth from around him and he grabs my head, pulling me up towards him. I climb up his slim frame and plant my lips upon his.

He pulls away from our kiss and speaks softly, "I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings early tonight."

"It’s okay," I respond. "I’m sorry if I hurt your ass tonight with that spatula" I grin. "Well. . . not completely sorry. . ."

 

Chapter 9

 

I awake in naked in Chester’s arms. He’s grip is so tight around me; I imagine him to be an oversized leech on a feeding frenzy. I try to remember last night, but most of it fills my head like a watercolor painting on which someone spilled a can of soda - colors swirling into each other without contour, without shape – just a mass of chaos. Chester and I must have tired ourselves out and fallen off to sleep. I am surprised I did not wake in the middle of the night to use the restroom, like I always do. That means I was tired, dead tired.

Thinking about the restroom makes my bladder twinge with pain for being neglected throughout the night. If I stir, I’m sure I’ll wake Chester. I study the top of his head as it rests on my chest and lightly run my hand across it. Not many men can pull off the close-shaved head look, but Chester can. I’m convinced he could pull of any hairstyle – long, short, red, green, spiked, flat, completely bald – he could do it all and still be beautiful. I think of my own hair and how much I experiment with it. No matter what I do I always end up back with the same look – dark and spiky, often a slight touch of red or blue thrown in.

My bladder can no longer take my refusal to empty it. I gently peel Chester’s arms from around me, trying my best not to wake him. My attempt is futile as he wakes against my touch. Chester’s always been a light sleeper and this morning is no exception.

He moans a little attempting to adjust to being awake. I slowly move myself out from under him.

"Where are you going?" he whispers.

"I’ll be right back, Chazy. I’m just going to take a leak."

"Okay. Hurry back."

His body continues to stick to me as I peel myself away from the bed, his hands grasping my arms and finally dropping back as I slide myself off the bed. I wonder if this is a pattern we are beginning to develop. I go manic on him, we sleep, he becomes my bitch and then I kiss his ass out of guilt. The thought makes me uneasy. We are at our best when we are equals, at our worst when there is an extreme power-shift in the relationship.

I use Chester’s bathroom, my body thanking itself for the relief. As I open the door to exit the restroom and return to Chester’s room, Chester is there throwing his arms around me. I step back initially surprised, but quickly let his arms enwrap me in a loving hug.

"Good morning sunshine." I speak lightly.

"Mmm…’morning."

His caring embrace makes the weight of guilt fall on me. I am thankful for his warmness, yet it magnifies my shame and makes me feel worse. I can feel tears beginning to collect in the wells of my eyes.

"I’m next for the bathroom!" he announces.

I kiss his cheek while he lets go of me and enters the bathroom.

"How can you hurt him – of all people?" I ask aloud to myself.

I throw myself down on his bed, facing the ceiling. "Fucking cotton-course- as-shit sheets!" I hiss evilly under by breath and grab the pillow lying beside me and throw it harshly at the wall. I don’t even realize my actions until the pillow is lying on the floor. ‘Nice, Mike. . .you certainly showed that pillow a thing or two!’ I chide myself.

The door to the bathroom opens and a smiling Chester emerges. He eases himself onto the bed next to me and his head reclaims its position on my chest while he slips his arm around my waist. I take my arm and drape it around his back.

"I like waking up next to you, Mike," he speaks.

"I like it too, Ches," I respond while giving his back a light squeeze.

We lay together in silence, enjoying each other’s closeness. I think about being on tour again and how cramped we’d be sharing a bunk. I am confident that Chester would make me sleep in his bunk on the lower level. He hates the top bunks, like I have. When we first went on tour with the bus he initially had a top bunk, however, he fell out in the middle of the night due to a restless sleep. The fall bestowed a huge bruise upon his hip that lasted for weeks. Ever since then he insists upon a bottom bunk.

Chester fidgets against me. After about five minutes and a considerable amount of squirming, he sits up and faces me.

"Mike. . .can we talk?" he asks timidly.

"Of course we can."

"I’m not really sure what to say or where to begin. . ." he speaks and pauses, collecting his thoughts. "I don’t understand what is happening with us. . ." Another pause. "I mean, I understand or at least I think I understand how we feel about each other. But sometimes things go gray…and you get. . .angry. Angry isn’t really the right word to describe it." He pauses again. "Rough. That’s probably a better word."

I feel a warm flush envelop my skin. The heavy guilt feeling I endured turns weighty as lead, crushing my bones. I stare into his eyes, now filled with pain and sorrow. I remain silent still taking in his words and waiting for him to expound upon his comments.

He frowns slightly. "It just seems like most of the time we’re intimate you’re hostile with me. Or perhaps hostile in general. I don’t know which it is - that’s part of my confusion. And, I don’t know. . .you seem to enjoy it. That scares me."

Tears stream down the side of my face. I’m not sure how to respond because I have not yet deciphered my own behavior. I feel lost and confused. Worst of all I feel ashamed. Ashamed that I’ve brought this pain to Chester, the person I care the most about in this world – ashamed because I know he’s right. I do derive pleasure and excitement out of my coarseness towards him. Yet the paradox I suffer from is that while I enjoy it, it also emotionally destroys me.

Chester stares at me with urgent, expectant eyes. He looks as lost and confused as I feel.

I sit up and lean my back against the headboard of the bed. "Chaz, I am really not sure what to say. You’re right - I’m an insensitive prick when it comes to our lovemaking. And I do like it, but I also hate because I know it’s not fair to you and it’s obviously damaging to you. You know me. You know me better than anyone else in the world. I’m not and evil person. And I’ve historically not been a very sexually adventurous person either – of course, the past few days being the exception. I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s no longer having that anger release that the stage provides me with." I take in a deep breath. "I don’t know, maybe I’m just fucked in the head."

Chester’s brown eyes gut me, unbeknownst to him. Those sweet, questioning eyes are just too much for me. I tare my gaze away and look down. Tears continue to litter my face. Chester places a hand on my knee, which makes me twitch with uneasiness.

"No, Mike. You’re not fucked in the head-" he speaks trying to reassure me.

I cut him off and raise my voice at him. "I am because when we are like this I just want to hold you and shower you with kisses and give you bubble baths and cook you breakfast. But then I get close to you and my desire builds and I want to fuck you. I want to fuck the hell out of you. I want to hurt you and have you scream my name."

Chester’s mouth gapes open. He grimaces, appearing to digest my words and I see tears beginning to glisten in his eyes.

Saying those words makes me feel a little better. Not because I am proud of them, but because it is a relief to get them out. I am taken aback by the stiffness I feel growing between my legs. ‘No, not now. He won’t be able to take it in this state – and once you get going you won’t be able to stop.’ I sternly lecture myself.

"Mike, I love you – I do." Chester speaks, almost sobbing. "But I don’t know if I can live like this."

I cannot release the mental images of me roughly fucking him and him screaming, ‘Mike…Oh, Mike! Fuck me! Harder, fuck me harder!’

Chester stares down at me and sees my hardness rippling the sheets. "Oh. . .No, Mike. . .No. . ."

I quickly jump up and pounce on him, knocking him backwards on the bed so that I am on all fours over him, my hands securing his wrists. "You’ll live it, endure it, and love it." I hiss at him. My head pounds with conflicting thoughts: ‘Don’t do this, you’ll regret it.’ ‘Fuck him, Mike, fuck him until he bleeds.’ ‘No, stop now while things can be salvaged.’ ‘Make him pay for being a whiney little bitch!’

I clench my teeth and hiss through them, "Fuck!"

I gaze down upon Chester. His sadness has transformed into fear.

"Mike, please don’t do this," he pleads.

I lean down and kiss his unresponsive lips. Frustrated, I press my mouth hard onto his and force my tongue into his mouth. His tongue is lifeless against mine. I poke and prod at it, yet it remains still. I pull my lips away from his and glare at him, "Kiss me, damn it!" I say in anger.

"You can go fuck yourself," he yells indignantly and spits in my face.

Anger consumes my body. I don’t dare wipe his saliva away, which would force me to release one of his wrists. My eyes pierce his as I grit my teeth.

"You fucking cunt!" I shout.

In response, Chester delivers another glob of saliva to my face.

"That wasn’t a smart move, Chester. You’re going to pay for that." Before my mind can come up with a next move, I feel a piercing pain in my groin where Chester has managed to swiftly strike me with his knee. I double over in pain, losing my grasp on his arms. Chester swiftly flips his body over sending me soaring to the floor with him now straddling me. His hands hastily grab at me, securing my wrists against the carpeting. I gasp, trying to retrieve the air that has been knocked out of me, still reeling in pain in response to the blow I endured.

"How do you like it, Mike? Does it feel good? How do you like to be the brunt of abuse?" Chester roars. "It’s not so fun is it? Is it?"

Dumbfounded and still recovering I lay, still gasping, trying to fill my lungs with sweet air.

"You’re not answering me!"

Chester’s eyes are fiery and wicked. Fear engulfs me as I stare into those foreign eyes. I’ve never seen Chester so angry before. He can achieve a significantly evil presence on stage, but that is nothing compared to the way his eyes currently lash at me. His legs at the sides of my chest squeeze my ribcage as if he’s trying to crush them with the pressure.

"C’mon Mike! How does it feel? Chester swiftly lowers his head against mine, striking me. Pain sears through my head in response to the blow.

"What’s the matter, Mike?" Chester continues to yell. "You don’t seem all that tough now that the tables have been turned on you, do you?"

Chester leans in and fastens his teeth around my collarbone cutting into the flesh. I’m certain it will produce a big, toothy bruise in a matter of hours.

"I can see why you get off on this Mike. The power, the control. . . It’s intoxicating" he speaks slyly. He lowers the bottom half of his torso against me, rubbing his stiffness that has materialized against me. "God, Mike this is making me so hot."

He continues to rub himself against me. I cannot bring my body to move or speak, completely flabbergasted at Chester’s demeanor.

"What’s the matter, Chester?" he speaks to me, purposely calling me by his name. "All bruised and broken?" He moves his body up my chest and kneels over my arms that his hands had pinned to the floor, so that his erection is mere inches from my face. The weight of his legs on my arms makes them cry out in pain. His now free hands stroke my hair. "Poor Chester. Mikey is beating up on you again. I don’t know why you take it." He takes a handful of my hair in his hand and pulls. "Now I want you to be a good boy and fight me. . .cry out for me to stop. And I want you to call me Mike."

I stay silent, not willing to play his sick game.

"C’mon! I want to here it. Say ‘Mike, stop it! No Mike!’"

"Fuck you!" I respond furiously.

I see him pull back one of his harms, his hand balled up into a fist. Before I can protest or satiate him by playing along, I feel his fist make impact with my cheek. I’m certain I see stars at the moment of impact.

"Fuck! Stop it, Chester!" I yell.

"Mike. You call me Mike, understand? If you don’t, I can make you understand."

"Yes, Mike." I quietly say, defeated.

"You can do better than that, Chester, I didn’t quite hear you."

"Yes, Mike!"

"That’s better."

"Now, I want you to suck me, Chester." Chester instructs, poking me in the face with his hardness.

"No, Chester, stop it!" I plea.

"What did you call me?" he asks while raising his fist again.

"Mike. No, Mike. Please stop!"

"I can’t stop now. Not after you have me all turned on. Now open your mouth. NOW!"

Reluctantly, I obey. Chester guides his firmness into my mouth with his hand. He rocks himself back and forth abusing my oral opening. I can barely breath as he plunges himself into me, stifling the flow of oxygen to my lungs. I feel my arms going numb from the pressure of his legs. Tears stream down my face and my body aches all over. ‘What the fuck have I done?’ I question myself.

Chester pulls himself out of my mouth and continues to stimulate himself with his hand. "Mmm… do you like that Chester?" he asks. "Do you like being completely filled with me?"

I don’t respond.

"Oh, are those tears I see? Why are you crying, Chester? I’m just loving you. I just want to make love to you," he speaks in a taunting tone.

"Go fuck yourself you fucking sick-o!" I sob.

"That’s not very nice pillow talk, Chester. You’ll have to pay for that," he says while returning his stiffness to my mouth. I gag as he plunges into my mouth, moving deeply into my throat. I fight trying to gasp for air in the brief seconds when he his pulling back just before he delivers another thrust into my mouth.

"Oh, god, Chester, I’m going to come. . .I’m going to come in your mouth, baby." Before he can get the words fully out, his fluid collects in the back of my throat.

"Oh, Chester!" He moans loudly in pleasure.

I choke not being able to suck air down. He watches me struggle. Having pity on me he climbs off of me. I roll over onto my side gasping and spitting, attempting to get all of his moisture out of my mouth. My arms are now completely numb. I curl my legs up into my chest, contorting my body into a ball on the floor. Chester sits down beside me. The room is silent, except for deep gasps of air I take every few seconds, echoing eerily off the walls. I feel Chester’s cold hand rest on my shoulder.

"Mike?" he asks in a concerned tone.

"Fuck off!" I cry out.

Chester collapses against my back, which faces him. "Oh, Mike. I’m sorry, Mike," he speaks, his voice wavering. Together we are one big mass of regrets.

"I really didn’t mean to hurt you or scare you," he tries to comfort me.

"I know, Chas, I deserved it. I fucking deserved it."

He throws his arms around me. "No, you didn’t. I’m so sorry."

"Just stop it, Chester, I did. You made me see how wicked I am. . .and I saw things from your perspective. I’m the one who should be sorry and I am."

Chester puts an arm under my knees and the other supports my back. He lifts me up and lays me down on my back on top of his bed. He crawls up onto the bed and lays down beside me. I roll over on my side so that I am facing him and he does the same.

"Oh, Mikey – you’re face." Chester speaks touching my cheek. I assume that means a bruise is beginning to form. "I’m going to get you some ice."

Chester gets up from the bed, grabs a pair of boxers from his dresser and goes to the kitchen to retrieve some ice. He returns with a few ice cubes balled up in a washcloth. "Roll over on your back," he instructs. After I roll to my back, Chester places the washcloth on my cheek. I wince against the coldness of the ice and the pain pressure brings to my cheek. "It will be okay," he assures me, "it will numb in a moment and you won’t be able to feel it."

"Thank you Chester."

"It’s really the least I can do."



Chapter 10

 

Chester removes the make-shift ice pack from my face and tucks me snuggly into his covers. Fucking cotton ones, no less, but I am in no position to protest.

"Mikey, I’m so sorry I struck you. I don’t know what I was thinking." Chester speaks, his voice full of regret.

"Let’s just not talk about it right now, okay?" I respond softly. My head feels cloudy - partially from Chester’s blows and partially due to confusion over the entire situation. I cannot comprehend my abusive demeanor and how I’ve been lashing out at Chester of all people. And what got into Chester? Was he just trying to prove a point or was he consumed by the beast of anger as I have been? Anger is an ugly emotion. It’s rude and thoughtless. I vow to no longer let it consume me and treat Chester the way he deserves to be treated.

Chester removes himself from beside me and makes his way into the kitchen. The void left by him is almost unbearable. I think of what my life would be like without him in it and crumble inside at the thought.

Chester returns with two wine glasses filled with what appears to be orange juice. He hands a glass to me.

"This will make you feel better," he speaks while reclaiming his spot next to me on his bed.

"What is it?" I ask, amused at the thought of him pouring juice into wine glasses. How very Chester.

"It’s a Mimosa."

"A Mimosa?"

"Yeah, you know…orange juice and champagne."

"We had champagne in the house?" I ask surprised.

"Of course! You never know when you’ll need a nice glass of champagne to celebrate…or to make Mimosas for breakfast with!" he laughs.

I smile at Chester’s words. Leave it to him to have the makings of Mimosas in the house. I only make sure we are stocked with rum and Coke for when proper occasions arise. I take a sip of the concoction and am delightfully surprised with its taste and the ease at which it passes through my lips. There is no better way to cure an ailment than through alcohol. After finishing my Mimosa, probably a little too quickly, I do feel somewhat better.

"Hey, thanks Chaz - that helped," I say to Chester leaning my head over to rest on his shoulder.

"Anything for my baby," he responds. "Would you like another?"

"Uh, yeah, if you don’t mind – that would be great."

"I’ll be right back!" Chester sings removing the glass from my hands. He returns quickly with full drinks for both of us.

Feet can be heard on the stairs. With everything that has transpired between Chester and I, I forget we have a roommate. Joe pops his head in the door.

"What’s up, guys?" he asks. Before I can answer he exclaims, "Dude! What happed to your face?"

"It’s nothing, really." I try to shrug off his question.

"That must have been some serious lover’s quarrel!"

"You’re not funny Joe!" I respond.

"Hey, Delson’s coming over this afternoon, so you might want to put some clothes on eventually." Joe warns.

"Thanks for the heads up, that would probably be a good idea." I respond. I peer over at Chester and he looks disappointed. I wonder if he’s disappointed that we’ll have a visitor or that we will need to clothe ourselves. "When will he be over?"

"Probably around lunch time."

I look at the clock determining how much longer we can bask in our nakedness. I figure we have at least two good hours.

I swallow the remnants of my drink and study Joe. He has already showered and shaved, but wears what we call ‘house clothes.’ House clothes are what you wear around the house for comfort purposes, but wouldn’t be seen wearing if you had guests or were out in public. In our home it normally means boxers and a t-shirt. I laugh to myself thinking of how Chester’s and my house clothes have been reduced to no clothes. Yes, the ultimate in comfort – and, of course, easy access.

"Well, I’ll let you two girls enjoy some time alone – and then I expect you two to go have lunch with Brad and I!" Joe cackles.

"I’ll consider it a double date!" I joke.

"Oh, yeth, that Braddie-Pie is justh toooo dwwweamy!" Joe retorts making his way back up the stairs.

I’m relieved that Joe is handling the situation between Chester and I so well.

"You’ve been quiet, are you okay?" I ask Chester, putting my arm around him.

"Yeah, I’m alright…I was just hoping we’d be able to stay in all day and watch movies or something."

"I tell you what. Later tonight I’ll take you out…on a date." I say, trying to cheer Chester up.

"A date?" he asks.

"Yeah, a real date. We’ll go out to dinner, maybe catch a movie, go for a walk. A proper date. What do you say?"

"That sounds great, Mikey!" he speaks, grinning. I love the way he lights up when he is happy. His face is a halogen bulb in a dark room.

I pull him close to me and place my lips against his. I revel in the feel of his supple pillow lips against my own. Chester’s tongue makes its way into my mouth and stroke mine against it. He climbs on top of me, continuing our kiss. I run my hands over his soft, stubbly head.

Chester pulls away and whispers into my ear, "Mike, I need you."

"Chaz, I’d love to…but I don’t think my body is physically able to at the moment.

"No, not like that, just how we are now." He slips his arms around my shoulders, holding me closely and resting his chin on my shoulder. His grip is so tight I imagine it might make my limbs go numb, but don’t really care. I return his embrace by slipping my arms around his waist. "Just hold me," he pleas softly. I feel tears well up in my eyes. The emotional roller coaster of the last few days strikes the breath out of me as I firmly hold my body against Chester’s. I realize how lonely I’ve been without anyone to share my life with and amazed that the void is being filled. It feels so magical being loved and loving someone.

"Chester, I love you so much," I say half whispering and half whimpering. The words begin to flood out of my mouth. "I’m so sorry for being such a prick…I promise I won’t hurt you ever again…I’ll do what ever it takes, Chester…Just tell me what it will take…"

"Shhh…just hold me..."

I hear the doorbell ring and look frantically at the clock. Fuck! He’s early!

Joe’s feet patter down the stairs. He sticks his head in, "Uh, you guys might want to make yourselves descent."

"Chester, I better go upstairs," I speak loosening my grip around Chester’s waist.

"Don’t go…"

"C’mon Chester, let’s be practical…" I say removing his arms from my sholders. I look at him and see the hurt in his eyes. "We’ll tell the others, really. I’m just not ready yet."

"Okay," he reluctantly responds.

I jump up from the bed and hastily throw on my boxers and grab a t-shirt from the floor, not certain whose shirt it is. I plant a small kiss on Chester’s lips and assure him I’ll be down in a few minutes. I exit the room and run up the stairs yelling behind me, "What up, Delson! I’ll be down in ten."

Hastily, I shower and change into fresh clothes. I work some gel through my hair and spend more time than normal spiking it up. When I realize what I am doing I laugh to myself, ‘trying to look good for your man, eh?’

Exiting my room I hear voices in the studio and follow them. Joe is playing recordings he’s been working on for our new album.

"Hey man, how’s it going?" I say to Brad.

"Not too bad. What the fuck happened to your face?"

"Oh, it’s nothing man…"

"It’s great to be home, isn’t it?" he asks in and excited tone.

"Yeah, great…" I say thinking about how much difference a few days makes. And it really sinks into me – it IS great to be home. In my home, surrounded by my own belongings - with my best friends…with my welcoming sheets…with Chester’s heart.

"Hi guys!" I hear Chester’s voice ring from behind me. I turn around and look at him. He’s neat and clean - looking as immaculate as ever, down to the very last detail. It takes every ounce of self-control not to rush over to him and swing him around in my arms. We exchange a glance - a glance meaningless and possibly unnoticed by Brad and Joe, but a look that speaks volumes to me. I think about how much I’d like to push him up against the wall and shove my tongue down his throat.

"Mike?" I hear Brad’s voice.

"Uh, yeah, what?"

"I was talking to you."

"Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention." I answer, glancing quickly at Chester and giving him a wink. He responds with a toothy grin. "So, are we going to get lunch or what?"

~*~*~*~

We arrive at the restaurant and are shown to a wooden booth with tall backs. We purposely picked this particular restaurant for the privacy the booths provide. It has been a difficult adjustment for us all to get used to being recognized in public.

I feel Chester’s hand sneak its way onto my knee. ‘Naughty boy!’ I think to myself, but love it none-the-less.

We make small talk and place our order.

"So, what have you guys been up to since you’ve been back home?" Brad asks the rest of us. I find myself fighting off a grin.

"Just hanging out, reading, catching up on my imported porn…the usual." Joe responds.

"Nice!" Brad says. "What about you two?"

"Yeah, really?" Joe asks, "What have you guys been up to? I’ve hardly seen you!"

‘Menacing little prick!’ I think to myself and give him a swift kick under the table. I know he’s just giving us a hard time, but I figure I’ll make him pay for it none-the-less.

"You know, watching Sex in the City, doing my nails, making out with Chester…the usual."

Chester bursts out in laughter so hard he snorts.

Jokingly Brad says, "You know you’ve been hanging out with Chester too much if you start doing your nails and watching Sex in the City!"

Everyone Chuckles except for Chester. "Hey, that’s not funny!" he speaks indignantly.

The waiter arrives with our order and we dig into our food. It’s been a while since I’ve had a proper meal in me. I always end up eating garbage on the road, and since we’ve been home I haven’t had too much of an appetite as a result of emotional distress.

Chester removes his hand from my knee in order to properly hold his sandwich. I miss his touch. I shovel down my food but cannot concentrate on the conversation – just the lack of Chester’s warmth against me.

Joe throws a couple french fries at Brad for no apparent reason. It’s always an adventure eating with him. The more I think about it, I’m convinced everything is an adventure with Joe. The boy is seriously whacked, but I love him for it.

Upon finishing my sandwich, I inconspicuously reach my hand under the table and rest it on Chester’s thigh, giving it a firm squeeze. He glances at me sideways biting his bottom lip. I look up and see Joe eyeballing me, completely aware of what is going on. Brad remains clueless and chatters about how some crazed fan keeps leaving baked goods on his and Rob’s doorstep since they’ve been back in town. Finishing his story, Brad excuses himself to use the restroom.

"You guys think you are pretty smooth don’t you?" Joe says, now throwing a french fry at me.

"Bite me!" I joke and place my free hand on Chester’s face and pull him towards me to steal a kiss.

"Mike!" Chester exclaims, surprised.

It doesn’t dawn on me that we are in public, but at this point I really don’t care. All I care about is the sustenance that Chester’s lips bring me, and pull him into me once again. This time, feeling more daring, I nudge my tongue into his mouth. Graciously his tongue accepts mine.

"I can’t believe I have to get use to this!" I hear Joe groan with a tone of sarcasm in his voice. A flying french fry bounces off my head.

I peel my lips away from Chester’s and shoot a glance at Joe and say, "You know you love it, big boy!"

"Yeah, and I’m jealous! Where’s my action, Shinoda?"

"Sorry, Sweetie, I’m promised to Chester. Please don’t take it too hard!" I tease, secretly wondering if there was a touch of truth to his statement.

I return for one last, luscious kiss from Chester before Brad returns.

"What the FUCK are you doing?" Brad’s voice sears.

Hastily I pull away from Chester making eye contact with Brad. "Nothing, man. It’s nothing."

"You were KISSING!"

"Just forget about it, man," I say, trying to brush him off, but I know I’ve been caught red handed.

Brad fixes his gaze upon Chester. Chester stares back resembling a deer caught in headlights. Brad returns his gawking eyes to me. My mind battles with itself over what to do. I consider my options: ignore it and hope it goes away; pretend I’m angry and storm off; come up with a crafty lie like it was a dare offered by Joe; or confess the truth. None of the options before me appear to be a good band-aide for the situation. Chester places his hand on top of mine, which occupies his thigh, and squeezes lightly. This gesture makes evident what I have to do to keep Chester happy. I figure Chester’s happiness is worth it.

Taking in a deep breath and releasing it, I look at Brad. "I really don’t think there is a good way to say this," I speak while my eyes study his confused face. "Chester and I are….uh…." I glance over at Chester. His eyes are transfixed on me with anticipation. I look at Joe who sits, taking in the spectacle with his mouth wide open. ‘Joe, rendered speechless – unbelievable!’ I joke to myself.

"Well?" Brad interjects in response to the silence.

"We’re together."

"What do you mean ‘together’?" He asks gruffly.

"Um, together, uh…like as in a couple."

"What?" he questions loudly.

"What do I have to say to make you understand, Brad?" I respond, annoyed.

"You…and Chester…are dating?" he asks.

"That about sums it up."

Brad leans back in the booth looking like the air has just been knocked out of him. He stiffly moves his head in Joe’s direction. "Did you know about this, Hahn?"

"Uh, yeah. They just told me…last night," he answers to Brad.

"And no one bothered to fucking tell me! Who else knows?"

"Just you two." I answer.

Brad stares at Chester and then at me. "Holy fuck! So you guys are…gay?"

"Brad, this is all new to us too. We are trying to adjust just like you are. I don’t think we really know what we are…bisexual maybe? I don’t know. Why do we have to label it anyway? I just know that being with Chester feels right." Chester tightens his grasp on my hand in approval. I turn towards Chester and smile. He responds with a pearly grin in return. I am shocked by how good it feels to get it out in the open. I don’t feel like hiding any more.

Chapter 11

 

After lunch we returned home. Brad was somewhat fidgety trying to adapt to the new development in Chester’s and my relationship. He looked downright adorable trying not to stare or let his mouth fall agape.

"I hope you guys have some alcohol because I’m going to need a drink," Brad declared as we made our way into the house.

Chester’s hand that was tightly grasped around mine squeezed me tightly as he wrinkled up his nose and playfully stuck out his tonguead.

"I saw that, Bennington!" Brad said teasingly while delivering a light backhanded smack to Chester’s head.

With haste, Brad found his way to our refrigerator and pulled out four beers. He effortlessly popped the caps on each one and handed each one of us a bottle. "Okay, I’d like to make a toast," Brad began, "to new found love – in all of its forms – and may some come my way real soon or I might resort to fucking Joe!"

Laughing, we all raised our bottles and clicked them together. I began to feel the full impact of relief in telling Brad - only two more to go. I hope they will be half as cool as Joe and Brad have been.

"So where’s Rob?" I ask Brad.

"With Meredith – ugh. I’m so sick of seeing them together. I’m just bitter because I’m not the one getting laid."

"At least it’s only been a month for you and not a year like Mike!" Joe chimes.

"Yeah, then I’d start to get worried. My best friends might start looking good to me!" Brad jokes. He and Joe laugh hysterically. I, obviously, don’t find it very funny. I’m used to it, though. I’ve been the brunt of many jokes in this group, and possibly every joke referring to a lack of sex. Chester releases my hand and puts his arm around my waist giving me a small squeeze as if to say ‘It’s okay, Mikey.’ I slip my arm around his waist and give him a peck on the cheek to express my gratitude.

"So, are you going to tell the others?" Brad asks looking at Chester and I.

"Of course!" Chester blurts out. "Then we don’t have to tip toe around any more – I hate that."

"Rob is going to freak out!" Joe interjects.

Frowning I look down at the drown and rub the linoleum with the toe of my sneaker, "That’s what I’m afraid of."

~*~*~*~*

After several hours of drinking beer and bullshitting, Brad leaves for home and Joe retreats to the studio. I pull Chester in my arms to face me.

"I’m going to take a shower, Love," I say resting my forehead against his. "Why don’t we meet back down here at six."

Chester touches his lips to mine lightly and speaks, "Can’t wait."

Regretfully, I pull away from him, admiring how precious he looks in his knit cap. I walk backwards to the stairs, not wanting to take my eyes off of him. Before ascending I pause at the foot of the staircase. Chester hasn’t moved and inch from where I left his side in the kitchen. He just watches me intently.

"I’ll be down soon." I whisper while Chester takes his bottom lip in his mouth and continues to eyeball me. I grin, turn around and make my way up the staircase to my room.

Hastily I shower and shave. I am not sure why I am rushing, because I have over an hour to get ready, but I am impatient. I’m ready to spend time with Chester alone. Being out with Joe and Brad today made me realize how much I treasure the times we have just the two of us. When, of course, I’m not fucking things up.

I let memories of this morning roll around in my head – the anger, the brutality. I recall the feeling of having Chester pinned down against his bed, restricted by my hands – how he angered and spat in my face. My manhood begins to stiffen. ‘No, no, no! You sick fuck!’ I reprimand myself, fighting the urge to stroke my emergent firmness.

I step in front of the mirror and study my face. My cheek is still red and slightly swollen. I look at my bare chest studying the bite mark Chester left on my collarbone. I run my fingers along the individual teeth marks left in my skin. ‘How clever he was to mark me as his own,’ I think to myself. I wish I had something to cover up the redness on my face in an effort to look somewhat normal for our evening outing. Unfortunately, in a house full of guys there is no cover-up or anything of the sort available. For the second time today, I painstakingly adjust the spikes in my hair.

I return to my room and sit down at my desk, flipping hurriedly through the phone book. After studying our restaurant options, I decide on a place and call to make a reservation for two. I decide against reviewing movie options, not wanting to openly brave the public. Not because I am ashamed of Chester, but rather in and effort to make the night more intimate. What we will do after dinner, I’m not quite positive, but I figure I will think of something during the course of the evening. ‘Perhaps just come back to the house for "dessert,"’ I chuckle to myself.

I review my clothing options. Certainly Chester will be dressed up, most likely in one of his button down shirts. Wanting to show Chester I deem the evening a special occasion, I search for something more appropriate than my standard casual clothes. While reviewing my garments I come to the conclusion that I own entirely too many t-shirts. That is virtually all I wear. At least I don’t wear them out too quickly with so many options! I settle on a black, short-sleeved button down and baggy black jeans. I decide to forgo the sneakers for a night and put on a pair of black Doc Martin’s. ‘Chester is going to be so impressed!’ I think to myself. Debating on whether or not to wear my glasses or contacts, I decide to keep my contacts in. I don’t want to appear to be trying too hard. And who am I kidding? Everyone knows I don’t look more refined and sophisticated in my glasses, even though I like to think I do.

I look at my clock and find I still have thirty minutes before Chester and had I planned to meet. I know it wouldn’t be any use to see if he was ready yet because I already know he’s not. He’s going to need every second allotted to get himself ready. I wonder where he gets the patience. I certainly couldn’t take so much time, day after day, getting ready. I think it would just make me crazy. Yet, that is Chaz’s thing, so it is okay with me. Plus he always looks sexy as hell.

Lying down on my bed, I stare up at the ceiling. I run over how I expect the course of the evening to play out, practicing in my mind what I will say to Chester. I want to make the evening everything that he is hoping. Getting lost in my thoughts I loose track of time. I look at my watch to see how much time is remaining before I can run downstairs and hold Chester in my arms. Twenty more minutes. I was certain more time has passed. Why is it that time always drags when you are in anticipation?

An idea implants itself into my head and I run down the stairs and out the front door. I notice Chester’s bedroom door was closed as I passed by. ‘Good, he’s still getting ready,’ I think. I hop into the car and drive quickly down the street arriving at my destination. I rush into the shop, make my purchase and hurry home.

I enter into the house, hiding my gift behind my back. Chester’s door is still closed. I inspect my watch one more time. Two minutes. Sitting down on the living room couch I realize how nervous I am. I’ve gone out with Chester a million times before, but this time is different. I notice my breathing becomes labored as I sit in eagerness.

Chester’s door clicks open. Jumping up from the couch, I hide my surprise behind my back and walk enthusiastically over to his door, gnawing nervously at my bottom lip. I watch Chester smooth his pants with his hands, not realizing I am watching him. ‘How cute, he’s primping!’ my mind sings. To no surprise, Chester is put together down to the very last detail. I marvel at his ability to accessorize and compose a fashionable outfit. Chester raises his head and his gaze falls on me.

"Mikey!" he speaks excitedly. "I didn’t realize you were there!"

"I didn’t want to be late on our first date – what impression would that leave?" I say smiling. I pull out the bouquet of flowers I had hidden behind my back, presenting them to Chester.

"These are for me?"

"Of course they are for you!" I respond pulling him towards me with my free arm.

"No one has ever given me flowers before!"

"Really?"

"Really! Oh, Mikey, you’re too sweet! I’m going to put these in some water so they don’t wilt!" As he pulls a vase from the kitchen counter I can hear him mumble "flowers!" under his breath. I feel joyous in my gift triumph. After filling the vase with water and placing the flowers inside he walks towards me, throwing his arms around my shoulders. "Thank you, Mikey" he speaks while embracing me tightly. "I love them, and I love you." Chester loosens his embrace on me and connects his mouth to mine. I slide my hands up to his face, cradling it in my hands as we passionately kiss.

"Are you ready?" I ask pulling back slowly.

"Yes! Let me get my coat. I don’t want to catch a chill." I deem that a good idea as Chester contracts ailments with ease.

"Do you need to get your jacket?" he asks.

"No, I’m fine. If I can brave Europe in the winter without a coat, I can certainly brave L.A. without one."

We clasp hands and I lead Chester out of the house. Upon arrival at the car that Chester, Joe and I share; I open the door for him, making sure he is fully inside before closing the door. ‘I hope Joe wasn’t expecting to go out tonight,’ I think to myself realizing I forgot to tell him Chester and I were taking the car. ‘He’ll live.’ I deposit myself in the driver’s seat of the car and head off to our destination.

When we arrive I inform Chester I’ll get the door for him. Quickly, I exit my side of the car making my way to his door and open it. I wonder to myself if this is how things are supposed to be between tow men. I really don’t know what I’m doing. However, I do know Chester and I know he loves being babied. Even by his girlfriends of the past - they always took care of him. Maybe it’s not how all male relationships are, but I know it’s how Chester’s and mine will work. I find comfort in the fact that I am Chester’s solidity, perhaps even his provider. I always feel guilty when people cater to me. I’ve just always been a giver, rather than a taker, by nature. This obviously hasn’t been true of Chester’s and my sex life, but that is an entirely different story.

We enter into the restaurant. I fight the urge to hang onto him, not knowing how well it will go over in a nice restaurant. ‘Mike, who really gives a fuck?’ I ask myself and I know I’m right.

We approach the hostess and I place my hand on the small of Chester’s back. "Reservation for Shinoda," I state to our greater.

"Yes, right this way, please," she speaks gathering menus in her hand.

"After you," I say turning to Chester, placing slight pressure on his back to move him in front of me as we walk to our seat. Just as I asked in my reservation, we are seated at a small, candle lit table for two. I laugh to myself as I think of how I’ve been more attentive to him this evening than most of the girls I’ve dated. Perhaps it’s loneliness or over compensation, but I secretly know it’s Chester. It’s all about Chester.

I order us two glasses of Merlot, thinking it would be more sophisticated than beer or liquor. I study the restaurant. It is the first time I have been here, but I heard that the food and atmosphere are first-rate. I’m already impressed with the atmosphere. The ambiance of the eatery is funky yet refined – very modern. The sound of a live jazz band can be heard in the background, but we cannot see them from where we are seated.

Chester looks up from his menu, apparently having made a selection. As he does this I realize I have been studying him rather than my menu. I’m faced with so many food options that I can nearly think straight. It is impossible to concentrate the entirety of my attention on the menu as Chester sits before me. So many feelings rush in and out of my like an electric current. Each thought commanding the hairs on my neck to stand up straight.

"What are you getting?" I ask.

"I thought I’d have the steak."

"That sounds good, I think I’ll get that too," I utter happy to have the decision made so I can concentrate my efforts fully on Chester. "You look very handsome tonight."

"Thank you," he responds almost shyly and blushing. He looks down, embarrassed and takes a sip of water from his glass. My eyes linger over his face – his soft brown eyes encircled by his glasses, the way his nose slightly dips down at the tip, his thin lips highlighted by his metal piercing. My eyes capture every detail, indelibly painting them on the canvas of my mind.

The waitress returns with our wine and takes our food order.

I grab my wine glass between my fingers, raise it, and say, "Let’s make a toast!"

"To what?" he asks.

"Whatever you want – you are the toastmaster!"

"Um…" he searches his mind for something to say, "to a new beginning!"

"A new beginning," I repeat, smiling and raising my glass to his. I reach out and place my hand upon his hand not occupied by the wine glass, enwrapping it in mine. We both delicately sip the red liquid. I want to say something romantic and sentimental, but my libido gets the best of me and I blurt out, "I want to fuck you senseless tonight."

"Mike!" Chester responds surprised.

I feel bad that I might have offended Chester after things have been so good between us since our episode this morning. "I’m sorry, Chester," I say wounded, yet oddly aroused.

"Don’t be sorry…I…I liked it," he responds nibbling on the pinky finger of his hand that formerly contained his wine glass.

Feeling the first signs of stiffness in my pants I stare into is eyes and say seductively, "I want to lick you all over…"

Staring at me wide-eyed Chester continues to nibble and now gently suck at the finger in his mouth.

"I want to feel you in my mouth and taste every last drop of your essence…"

"Mike," Chester whispers, briefly closing his eyes and absorbing my words.

"I want to throw you over this table, rip your pants off and run my tongue all over your ass… I want to feel myself inside of you, taking pleasure in your warmness and tightness while the entire restaurant is watching."

"Stop," Chester speaks breathily, "you’re making me too hot."

"You are hot Chester…and your mine." I say with an mischievous grin.

"I am," her replies meekly.

The waitress returns to the table placing our dinner in front of us. I look down at my steak knowing that it will not be sufficient to satiate my hunger. The hunger I feel is much more primitive.

Chester has already begun to dig into his dinner while I continue to study and stare at my own.

"Eat, Mike," Chester speaks.

"I’d rather be eating you."

~*~*~*~*

We inhale our dinner in record time.

"Do you feel adventurous?" I ask.

"What did you have in mind?"

"I’m not telling you, just answer the question."

"If it involves nakedness and you I’m feeling pretty damn adventurous.

I stand up from the table and hold out my hand. "Come here."

Chester puts his hand in mine and I pull his arm slightly helping him out of his seat. I look around the restaurant until my eyes find what they are looking for. I pull Chester along behind me. We reach the door labeled "Gentlemen," and I pull Chester in after me.

"The bathroom, Mike? You’ve got to be kidding!"

"Shh," I respond while walking past the urinals and checking under the stalls for feet. Empty. Perfect.

Still holding Chester’s hand I make my way down to the large stall on the end, guiding him behind me. "We need to do this quickly and quietly so we don’t get caught."

"We can’t make out in the restroom – this is a nice place!" Chester says attempting to be rational.

"Fuck it!"

"No, fuck ME," he responds.

"Now that’s what I’m talking about it!"

I lock the door behind us and push Chester up against the wall, covering his neck with kisses. My hands run over his chest. Feeling the urgent need to touch his skin I push my hands up his shirt exploring his chest in a fashion more to my liking. Hastily I pull it up and begin kissing and nibbling it all over.

Overcome with desire, I drop my hands to his belt, unfastening it rapidly.

"Mike, slow down."

"I can’t, I need to taste you now."

Expertly, I unbutton his pants and lower the fly of his slacks, stroking his manhood.

"Looks like I’m not the only one into it," I say devilishly noticing that he is completely erect. I squat down and remove his stiffness from the opening in his boxer shorts and tenderly kiss its head. I hear a door squeak and footsteps.

"Mike!" Chester whispers loudly.

"Shh…" I say, soothing him and placing a finger over my lips. I look up at him devilishly as my mouth envelops him. Chester’s eyes widen as if to say ‘Don’t you dare!’ I wink at him and bob my head along his length, flicking my tongue as I go.

The sound of urine hitting the ceramic bottom of the urinal can be heard echoing off the walls. The deviance of the situation multiplies my excitement. Chester rests his head back against the wall, his mouth falling open. Vehemently I move my lips along him, absorbing every inch, every sensation of him inside my mouth.

The footsteps disappear and we are alone once again. My concentrated attention proves to be more than Chester can take and he releases himself into my mouth moaning "Oh, Mike!" I swallow his fluid fervently and attentively lick him, making sure every last inch of him is clean.

Chester reaches his hands down and grabs two fists full of my hair pulling me up to him. He moves his hands around to the back of my neck and pulls my face roughly towards him, kissing me hard. I push my body onto him, purposely rubbing my stiffness against him. I move my lips to his neck, just about devouring it, while his hands grab up and down my back.

"I’m going to fuck the hell out of you," I speak sternly in his ear. Chester releases a moan. Quickly I place my hands on his waist and push his pants and boxers down to his ankles. I flip him around forcefully so that he faces the wall and remove my stiffness from my pants. I deposit as much saliva in my hand as possible and rub it on my newly exposed skin. I lean my body up against him placing the head of my firmness at his opening. "Do you want me to fuck you, Chester?"

"Yes, Mike," he responds in a breathy tone.

"Say it."

"I want you to fuck me."

"Say it like you mean it."

"I do Mike, god, fuck me already."

"Maybe I’ll just rub myself and come all over your ass."

"No, Mike, I want you inside of me."

"I don’t know Chester. Checking you out while I touch myself sounds pretty stimulating," I taunt.

"No, Mike, FUCK ME!"

While Chester is still saying ‘me’ I ram myself harshly into him releasing a loud, "Fuck!" Chester takes in a quick breath of air making a squeaking sound.

"Damn, Chester. You’re so fucking tight."

"Oh, Mike, fuck me hard," he whispers.

Unleashing the full brunt of my desire, I continuously shove myself into him. Overcome by the entire situation, I climax in record time, spilling myself deeply into Chester.

I kiss the back of his neck and slowly remove myself from him. I slid my arms around him, reaching up his chest and holding onto him tightly.

"I love you, Chester," I whisper out of breath.

He turns his body around so that he faces me and puts his arms around me, jerking me towards him. He rests his head on my shoulder and whispers in return, "I love you too, Mike - and I love the way you fuck me."

We continue to embrace and hear the door of the bathroom squeak again. We look at each other, smiling and stifling giggles. Chester reaches down and pulls up his slacks while I return myself to my jeans and zip them up. We stay as still and as quiet as we possibly can until we hear the intruder finish his business. I hold my lips firmly shut trying not to laugh. When we hear the footsteps out of the bathroom and the squeak of its door we both burst out in hysterical laughter.

"I can’t believe we got it on in the bathroom of Virtuoso!" Chester exclaims.

We rush out of the bathroom holding hands with massive smiles painted across our faces. On our way out we bump into a restaurant patron on his way into the restroom.

"Sorry!" I blurt out loudly and laughter again pours from our lips.

 

Chapter 12

After returning to the table from our bathroom adventure, I settle up the bill quickly and usher Chester out to the car.

As I open the door for him he remarks teasing, "I’ll know the magic is gone when you stop opening the car door for me!"

"Shut your trap, woman!" I joke, making Chester giggle.

I hop into the car and put the key in the ignition and turn towards Chester. "Come here, Love." I speak, cradling his face in my hands. I pull his face towards mine to taste his lips. After taking in his luscious lips, I pull away throwing my arms around him.

"Thank you, Mike. Thanks for tonight," he whispers humbly while we embrace.

"My pleasure."

I gently remove my arms from around him and place them on the steering wheel trying to determine where to take us. All I feel like doing is going home and cuddling next to him on my bed, in-between my soothing, flannel sheets. Yet, this is Chester’s night, I remind myself. I’m afraid he’d be disappointed if we just went home. Dinner alone does not make for a very exciting date. Especially after just having my way with him in the bathroom. I don’t want him to think it’s just about the sex. Although, I have to admit that the sex is pretty fucking mind-blowing. I wish I had known sooner how enjoyable it is to be inside Chester.

Making a decision, I turn the key to start the car.

"Where are we going?" he asks.

"You’ll see, be patient."

We arrive at our destination and I, once again, open the car door for him. While opening the door I feel like a pathetic, doting fool. ‘Why am I so enamored by him?’

"Where are we?" he asks.

"Just come with me," I respond, grabbing his hand and pulling him along behind me. Our feet make contact with the stone walkway in front of us. Chester studies the elaborate metal archway as we pass under it.

I guide Chester off of the path into the grass, continuing to pull him behind me as his anxious eyes take in his surroundings.

"Look," I say pointing ahead of us at a circle of tall pine trees.

"What is it?"

"It’s a labyrinth."

"What is that?"

"It’s like a maze, but only has one route. This one is made out of stones. While you follow the course of a labyrinth it is supposed to calm your mind – a sort of walking meditation."

"Cool!" he enthusiastically responds.

We walk closer and reach the opening in the circle of trees. I am thankful the moon is almost full, illuminating the path of the stones.

"I have heard that you can think of a problem, and as you walk the path of the labyrinth your mind sorts it out, so at the end you have a resolution." I inform Chester.

"Let’s do it, Mike!" he exclaims excitedly.

"Go ahead, I’ll follow you."

Chester cautiously places his foot on top of the path’s first stone as if something miraculous would transpire, such as newfound understanding of the meaning of life or perhaps a lightening bolt striking the earth. I chuckle to myself at the sight. As he is about five stones in, I follow behind him along the round, outer circle of the course. I try to clear my in an effort to see if any burning questions surface. Without surprise, my first thought is of Chester. My psyche struggles to make sense of the situation and lets me know it is not at ease with our newfound relationship roles. I’ve become a pushover denying my primal urges…urges to manipulate and abuse him. I wince at the thought. I do truly care about him - love him even.

As I wrestle with my thoughts tears stream down my face and the situation becomes clearer: I just want to control him in bed. I want him to be my sexual plaything, my punching bag, my boy toy - and at all other times to simply be devoted to him.

The thought mortifies me. How can a rational human being love someone with almost all of their essence, but the thought of normative, romantic sex with that person bores them?

‘My god, what have I become? And how could Chester possibly understand?’ I ask myself. ‘He won’t.’ It becomes evident to me that I won’t be satiated without filling this sexual void, a void I’m sure Chester would be reluctant to fill. After tasting the forbidden fruit of rough, abusive, sex I know it has become more than a desire, it has become a need - a hunger that demands to be filled, one way or the other.

I know what I must to do.

"Have you solved all of your problems, Mikey?" Chester asks almost to the center and end of the labyrinth’s path.

"I think I have." ‘Mike, you callous, prick!’ my thoughts reprimand me.

Chester reaches the center and waits for me, grinning. It pains me to look at his cheerful expression. As I join him he throws his arms around me. "It’s official," he begins, "I’m in love with you." The paradox of my feelings pulls me in two. As much as I crave to hear those words from Chester, they are almost unbearable knowing I will ultimately end up hurting him…in one way or another.

I kiss his cheek and say, "Let’s go home and go to bed."

He grabs on to my hand and we walk out of the labyrinth and back to the car. I am silent on the drive home. Chester enthusiastically chatters, but none of his words connect with my ears.

When we enter our home Chester walks towards his room.

"I hope you don’t think I’m sleeping in there," I call coldly after him.

"What?" he asks, a look of disappointment painted across his face.

"We’re sleeping in my room." I inform him. "I can’t take another night of cotton hell!"

His expression warms. I realize the tone of my words expressed reluctance to spend the night with him - most likely because a good part of me doesn’t want to. I know a full evening of lying scarcely clothed next to him will tempt my craving for his flesh.

"Is it okay if I take a shower before bed?" he asks.

"Of course!" I respond, surprised he’d ask my permission to shower. "I’m going to head upstairs. I’ll see you in a few."

"Can’t wait!" he sings.

His words gnaw at my emotions. I make my way up the stairs to my room hanging my head down low. Not watching where I am going I bump into Joe who stands outside of his room.

"You okay, man?" he asks.

"Yeah, I’m fine," I lie, attempting to look like my normal self.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I’m sure. Thanks, though."

"You guys just get in?"

"Yeah, I think we are going to hit the sack now."

"Sounds like fun!" he responds with a wink.

"We’ll see Joe, we’ll see."

"That doesn’t sound very encouraging," he jokes.

"I don’t know. Thinks are just kind of…odd, I guess."

"I can imagine…Well, get some sleep, you’ll feel better in the morning," he states and gives me a slap on the ass as he makes his way down the stairs.

I laugh, shaking my head, and retreat to my room.

I wash my face and then strip down to my boxers. I leave the door of my room open for Chester and slide beneath my irresistible sheets. Mentally exhausted, I fall asleep. I am awoken by Chester’s arms sliding around me. His body cups the back of mine. I twist my head over my shoulder to look at him and give him a quick kiss.

"Goodnight, Chester."

"Goodnight, Sweetie," he responds giving my body a firm squeeze.

I cringe. Why does he have to be so damn sweet? At least if he was an asshole I wouldn’t feel bad fucking him until he’s raw.

Again, I let sleep consume me.

~*~*~*~*~*

I wake in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. I peel Chester’s arms off of me and sit up in the bed. Pulling my knees to my chest, I notice I’ve grown stiff in my sleep. I rest my arms on my knees and take my head into my hands. ‘Just let me fucking sleep,’ my mind pleas. I peer over at Chester, studying him as he rests. He looks like and angel…or perhaps more appropriately, a fallen angel.

I look down and feel tears sear my eyes and eventually roll down my cheeks. My fingers scratch my scalp harshly in the hopes of urging my sexual tension, to no avail. I think about how just a couple days ago I hadn’t had sex with anyone in over a year. Anyone besides myself, of course – a man has needs. Now I get one taste of the pleasures of a man and I’ve transformed into a sadistic nymphomaniac.

Quietly, I remove myself from the bed and tiptoe to the door. I turn the doorknob silently and exit the room, leaving the door cracked behind me as to not make unnecessary noise. I creep down the hall to Joe’s room and stand outside the door contemplating. The depravity of my plan shames me, but I argue that unleashing the sexual fiend within myself onto Joe is the only way to keep from ruining my relationship with Chester. Chester would never agree to the constant brutality I crave to unleash on him. Joe, on the other hand, seems intent on having me. This leads me to believe he’d be willing to get me any way he can. I’m hoping using Joe will satisfy my need, leaving me as Loving Mike for Chester. It’s a devilish plan, not one I’m proud of, but it seems like the only option at the present moment. At least the only option that will pacify me, and hell, it’s all about me. I know I’m a greedy bastard, but I’m so sexually frustrated right now I don’t give a flying fuck. I just want my dick in something tight…NOW.

I open Joe’s door and find him sleeping soundly inside. Quickly, I remove my shorts and slip into the bed next to him, facing his back. I am excited to discover that he sleeps in the nude. I nudge by body tightly against him and begin kissing his neck while my hand envelops his sex. He awakes moaning as if reality blends in perfectly from his dream world. Joe turns his head back to expose his perpetrator.

"Mike?" he asks and I don’t respond. "Oh, god, Mike!" He whispers as I feel him stiffen in my hand. My kisses transform into nibbles and then bites upon the back of his neck. I rub the side of my head against his, seductively groaning in his ear, "You taste so good, Joe."

He tries to turn to face me, but my position around him is firm and I disallow his movement.

"Are you feeling lucky tonight?" I ask brutally, not caring what the answer is.

"Mike…I’ve waited so long for you," he murmurs.

"I know."

My teeth grab at his earlobe pulling it until he winces. "That’s what I like to hear, Joe."

As I continue to gnaw at his ear and his neck, I realize that I have been unconsciously gyrating my hips against him, signifying what I need to do.

I glance around the room and notice his bottle of KY Jelly on his nightstand. Letting go of his erection, I reach over him, grabbing the tube. Hastily I open it, squeezing a sufficient amount of the clear gel on my hand.

My lathered hand reaches down to his opening and I gently insert a finger into him. Noticing no signs of shock or discomfort I insert another finger and begin to probe him with them. Joe moans every time my fingers sink deep inside of him.

"Do you like that, Joe? Do you like my finger’s fucking your ass?"

"Oh, yes Mike," he responds obediently.

"Do you want something more?"

"Yes, please, Mike…please" he begs.

I remove my fingers and place the tip of my hardness at his opening. "I can’t wait to be inside of you, Joe," I seductively whisper and pause to catch him at a moment when he is not expecting my thrust. I let him pant in anticipation for a good thirty seconds before roughly slamming myself into him.

"Fuck!" he exclaims.

"Oh, Joe, I know you like it. I know you want it…this is what you’ve been waiting for," I speak and deliver onto him another firm thrust.

As I brutally ravage him, I take his stiffness in my hand and stroke it in time with my thrusts. Continuously, my body pounds into him and I am blind to whether he his enjoying my actions or not. In all honesty, I don’t care - I just want to feed my need.

"Oh, Mike!" Joe shrieks while panting heavily, and I feel his sticky fluid fill my hand.

"Such a good boy," I say in a demeaning tone. "What a good JoeBaby."

I shove him over flat on his stomach and climb on his back, still planted firmly within him. With every ounce of my energy I pummel myself into him. I hear him emit small squeaks and whines in response and push his face into his pillow with my hands to muffle his racket.

After what seems like an eternity, I burst inside of him, moaning and filling him deeply with my seed. I remain still trying to regain my composure and my breath. I remove myself from Joe and notice a small amount of blood on my sex, oddly arousing me.

Picking myself off the bed, I nonchalantly say, "Thanks for the fuck, Joe," and soundlessly exit his room. I hear him call my name out after me, but I ignore it and walk up the hall to the bathroom. I wet a clean washcloth and wipe the sweat from my face and remnants of KY and drying blood from my groin. Hastily, I run a thin coating of deodorant under my arms and return noiselessly to my room, slipping into by bed.

Chester remains in the position I left him in. I face him, sliding my arm around him and kiss his forehead. Tenderly I whisper. "Sweet dreams, Love."





Chapter 13

I wake to Chester peppering kisses across my face and I feel my heart warm.  Seeing that his waking tactic worked he grins wildly and greets me with a syrupy, "Good morning!"

Smiling back at him I slide my arms around him and speak, "Good Morning, Sweetness."

I provide him with a loving bear hug and pull him on top of me.  Our lips caress one another and I playfully lash my tongue across his lips as if a kitten lapping at a saucer of milk.

He giggles, "You're so silly!"

"And you can't get enough of it!"

"You're right!" he giggles again.

"Did you sleep well?"  I ask.

"Soundly. You're right, flannel sheets are the best!"

"Stick with me kid, and you’ll learn all kinds of things."

"You're hopeless!"

I press my lips against his and imagine what it would be like to wake every morning next to him – just like this.  The thought makes me warm all over.

Chester deepens our kiss, firmly exploring my mouth with his tongue while he runs his hands up and down the sides of my torso.  I allow my fingers to lightly caress his subtle back. Slowly, Chester begins nudging my body up against me. I can feel his emergent firmness through his boxers, rubbing against my bare body.

‘SHIT!’ My mind panics. ‘My boxers! I fucking left them on Joe’s floor!’

Just as I begin to hope that Chester won’t realize the absence of my underwear, he speaks playfully, "you were expecting some action this morning weren’t you?"

Trying to hide my panic I reply, "Uh, what do you mean?"

"You wore your boxers to bed last night. My favorite ones – the ones with the blue and green stripes."

"You just must be irresistible, I guess!"

"Well, maybe I’ll have to give you want you were hoping for." He responds now grinding his stiffness into mine. I curse myself for having an over- active libido. ‘Why did I have to get hard, damn it?’

I feel uneasiness set in. I want to feel myself in Chester so bad I can taste it, but I know the end result won’t be pretty. ‘Things were peachy- fucking-keen until Chester had to start rubbing himself all over me. Damn bastard.’ I feel rage in me begin to swirl and am not sure why. I know I’m over reacting, but my emotions out power my rational thinking.

Chester continues to thrust his sex against me and kisses my neck. I allow my hands to fall back on the bed and stare at the ceiling in exacerbation.

"Mike…touch me," he pleas.

"Let’s not do this right now, okay?"

"Don’t be silly, Mike," he laughs.

"I’m serious Chester. Stop."

He pulls his head up and stares at me questioningly.

"What’s the matter?"

"I’m just not in the mood."

"Mike, you have a fucking hard-on. How could you not be in the mood?"

"I’m just not. Let’s just drop it, okay?" I speak coldly.

"No, I want to know what’s wrong."

"Nothing’s wrong, I just don’t want to fuck you right now!" I raise my voice. "Just get the fuck off of me!"

I shove Chester and get up from the bed. I make my way over to my dresser and pull out a fresh pair of boxer shorts. While I throw them on I can feel Chester’s eyes burning a whole through me, but I ignore him. I walk out of the room, slamming the door behind me. Why I slam the door I’m not quite sure. "Great, now I’m turning into some drama queen," I mumble to myself.

Making my way down the stairs I tuck into Chester’s room and open the top draw of his nightstand. I grab one of the new, full packs of cigarettes and a book of matches and storm out to the porch. The air is cold against my skin and I think how it would have been a good idea to put on some clothes, but feel too frustrated to go back into the house.

Why I feel the need to have a cigarette, I don’t know. Chester always does it when he’s pissed off, so it seemed like a good enough idea. Lighting one of the cigarettes I inhale deeply quickly coughing out the vial smoke. ‘How does Chester fucking smoke this shit?’ I ask myself taking another puff of the dreadful drug. As I smoke I reflect on the scene with Chester and am reminded of a song lyric I once heard: ‘Another pack of cigarettes, 20 grade A filtered regrets.’

After finishing the cigarette I put it out against the porch railing and toss it from my hand thinking how much I hate cigarette butts in the back yard. ‘Jackass,’ I scold myself.

Feeling unaccomplished I enter in the house and make my way to the kitchen.

"’Morning…asshole," I hear Joe sneer.

I look up and gaze upon him and respond with a cold "Whatever."

I push him out of the way of the refrigerator and open it up, grabbing a beer.

"It’s a little early for drinking, isn’t it?" Joe asks snidely.

I whip my head around to glare at him, catching his choice in clothing out of the corner of my eye. I look down at his shorts and feel rage boil over inside me.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I shriek.

"What?" he says, "You don’t like my new boxers? I think they’re kind of flashy."

"You little shit – take those OFF!" I roar.

"But I thought you left them for me, Mikey," he snidely retorts.

"You stupid fuck! Take them off…before…before-"

"Before what?" he cuts me off. "Before your precious Chester sees that I’m wearing his little Mikey’s shorts."

"Yes! Take them off!"

"Right here?" he says evilly while slightly pulling down the elastic of the shorts, "Damn, Mike, you are a horny fuck. Just, at least, let me fuck you this time."

"Joe, I’m serious. Go upstairs and change."

"Or what?"

"Or I’ll fuck you alright. I’ll fuck you so hard that you’ll be walking around for the rest of your life with a cane!"

"I just love your dirty talk, Mikey. It makes my dick all hard," he responds allowing his hand to drop inside the opening of the shorts.

I want to remove myself from the situation, but I know if I leave Joe will still traipse around the house in my underwear until Chester sees him. ‘That conniving little bitch!’

"Joe, stop it. Please. I’m sorry about what happened last night. I thought it’s what you wanted," I lie knowing that’s not how he envisioned things between us to be.

Still stroking himself he walks towards me. With every step he makes forward, I take one back until I’m stopped by the counter. He pushes himself up against me.

"Here’s your chance to make it up to me."

"Fuck off, Joe."

"I suggest you be a little nicer to me, Mike. Think about who has the upper hand in this situation. You don’t like it, do you - being the weak one? We’ll, here is your opportunity to come down off that fucking high horse of yours and be humbled a little."

With his free hand he grabs my scrotum tightly. I wince in pain.

"Go fuck yourself, Joe!" I shout and he tightens his grasp. An excruciating squeal escapes my lips.

"The only thing I’m going to be fucking is you, Mike."

"Oh my god!" I hear Chester’s voice exclaim in horror.

I quickly turn my glance towards the stairs and see Chester standing at the bottom step. His mouth hangs open as he studies the scene.

"Wha…." he tries to speak, but is at an apparent loss for words.

"Chester, it’s not what it looks like," I try to assure him.

"No, it’s not. It’s worse," Joe interjects.

I flash him an evil glare.

"He’s…he’s…wearing your boxers…" Chester speaks wearily as I see a tear roll off his cheek. "The ones you had on last…night."

"Chester, it’s nothing, really," I lie. "Go back upstairs and I’ll be up in a minute to talk."

"Don’t fucking tell me what to do," he snaps.

Noticing that Joe is preoccupied with Chester’s presence, I tightly grab his wrist and painfully pull it off me. The soreness sends my knees crashing to the floor and I double over in pain.

Bending down and patting my ass Joe says to Chester, "he’s getting all ready for me, isn’t that sweet?"

"Mike…you, you….asshole," Chester speaks as he walks slowly into the kitchen, the hurt evident in his voice.

I remain on the floor, slumped over in pain with tears gushing out of my eyes. I wish I could wake myself from this awful dream, but know that I should only be so lucky as to be dreaming. Struck with an overwhelming sense of self-loathing I allow my body to fall over on its side while I curl myself into a ball and painfully uncontrollably sob.

"Serves you right, you fucking prick," Joe scoffs and makes his way upstairs to his room.

Chester kneels down beside me and places a hand on my shoulder. "Mike?" he calls out softly.

"Just leave me alone," I bawl while trying to scrunch by body up tighter.

"Shhh," he soothes me while rubbing my shoulder.

"You’re better off without me, so just leave."

Chester bends down and kisses my forehead. I can’t understand what he’s still doing there by my side and begin to feel worse, if that is humanly possible. I am ashamed and angered by my actions. How could I be so thoughtless…so careless…so unkind? Chester has been nothing but loving towards me and this is how I repay him? I’m a filthy lout.

I feel Chester’s arm slide against the backs of my knees as his other arm slides around my far shoulder. Holding me he leans his weight onto his feet pulling me with him and then stands upright keeping me locked in his arms. I drape my arms around his shoulders and rest my head against his chest as he walks over to the stairs and ascends to the best of his ability. He carries me down the hall, into my room, and gently releases me onto my bed. He situates me on my under the covers, pulling me out of the leg-locked position I held myself in, until I’m lying on my back. Gently he lifts up my head placing a pillow underneath. My sobs have grown softer, yet I am still overcome by grief. Moreover, I am still completely perplexed by Chester’s actions. I think he should be punching me in the face rather than wrapping me in cushy flannel.

Chester makes his way around to the other side of the bed and climbs in next to me. He snuggles his body next to mine resting his head on my chest. We sit in silence for a good fifteen minutes as my crying subsides. He peels his head off of my chest and rests it on my pillow.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" he asks meekly.

Chapter 14

I sniffle as the thoughts come crashing into my head, making it throb in agonizing pain. At this very moment I hate myself - hate myself for what I’ve become and for what I’ve done to both Chester and Joe.

I feel that honesty is probably the most intelligent and effective way to approach the situation, as much as it pains me. At the very least I owe that to Chester. I am incredibly lucky that he hasn’t already left me. It’s evident something happened between Joe and I, yet Chester has remained faithful.

Where do I begin? How do I tell him the truth? The whole truth.

I can feel his gaze fixated on me and turn my head to look at him. By the sullen look on his face I can tell he is prepared to take in bad news.

"Before I explain, I’d like to preface my explanation by saying that I love you, Chester. I truly do," I begin. I hope for some sort of reaction from him, perhaps his face to soften or him to return the sentiment. However, he just looks blankly at me and blinks, waiting for more. "I’m really not sure what to say," I continue. "What happened with Joe is a result of a deeper routed problem."

"Did you fuck him?" Chester asks accusingly.

Tears pollute my eyes as I respond, "I did."

Chester’s face grimaces trying to hold in a sob. "How many times did this happen?"

"Just once."

"When? This morning?"

"No," I say and inhale deeply, "Last night."

"What?" Chester roars and sits up in the bed. "Last night? You mean you bought me flowers, wined and dined me, had your way with me in the restaurant bathroom, and then came home to turn around and sleep with Joe? I don’t fucking believe this!"

I sit myself up and turn towards Chester who appears not to know if he should be crying or swinging his fists at me.

"Chester, I didn’t do because I don’t love you or am not attracted to you. It didn’t have anything to do with that, so don’t even think that it did. It was purely physical."

"I don’t understand, Mike. You could have had me. We were right there in bed together. I wanted to be with you."

"I didn’t want to have sex with you because I didn’t want to hurt you. Actually, I wanted to have sex with you, but I know if I did I would end up hurting you. Just like I’ve already done," I speak, the desperation in my voice evident.

Exasperated, Chester responds, "I still don’t get it Mike."

"I wanted to fuck you. Fuck you until you called out my name in aguish. Fuck you harshly until I drew blood," I watch Chester’s face wince at my words and know I should stop, but I keep going to get it all out. "I wanted to mar that lovely face of yours with the back of my hand. I waned to order you around, commanding you to do things I know you wouldn’t want to do. I wanted to tie you up and scratch my nails across your chest, getting little bits of your flesh caught beneath my fingernails-"

"Stop it!" Chester yells shaking his head back and forth. "Just stop it, Mike!"

I grab Chester’s hands and he tries to wiggle free, but my strength is superior.

"But I didn’t do those things to you, I just couldn’t," once again I begin to weep. "I couldn’t because I do love you, Chester. Because nothing brings me more joy than holding you next to me. And I know if I lashed out at you again it would be the end, and I can’t handle that. I’d be a wreak without you. I need you."

"Mike-"

"Do you understand what I’m saying to you?"

"I do, Mike, but I don’t like it," Chester whimpers.

"Chester, I don’t want to lose you. These last few days have meant more to me than you’ll ever know. I feel like I’ve found someone who I can truly see myself build a life with. But I can’t be that storybook lover. I can’t be Mr. Wonderful all of the time. In the bedroom it has to be different. I need that aggression, that release. I thought the best way to fix the problem was to find that release elsewhere in order to protect you from it. I realize though, that I was wrong. I should have never slept with Joe. It just ended up hurting you and him both. It meant nothing to me, Chester. Please believe me."

Chester and I stare intently at one another and minutes of silence pass by.

"Chester, please say something," I plea.

"I really don’t know what to say. I think I need some time alone to think, to ingest what you are telling me."

"Do you love me?" I ask, almost begging.

"Of course I do, Mike. I can’t turn my feelings on and off like a fucking light switch. I need some time right now, though. Please, let me go."

I release his hands and watch him as he draws himself up from his seated position on the bed. I feel my heart sink. Without a word he exits the room. I fall over onto my bed, gripping my pillow tightly and bury my face in it to catch my tears. I feel worse than I did when I collapsed on the floor of the kitchen earlier this morning. I imagine if Joe had completely removed my scrotum with his bare hands today I would still feel worse at this very moment.

Suddenly feeling very dirty from the sweat of last night dried to my skin and decide to take a shower.

~*~*~*~*

After cleansing myself and putting on fresh clothes, I decide it would be a good idea to try to things right with Joe. I make my way down the hall to Joe’s room and knock softly.

"Yeah?" Joe yells from within.

"It’s Mike. Can we talk?"

"It’s unlocked."

I enter the room and find Joe in bed reading. I walk over to his bed and sit down beside him, being careful not to get too close.

"I wanted to talk to you about last night," I say.

"So talk," he snaps.

"You have every right to be made at me, what I did to you was unfair."

"Yeah it was."

"It wasn’t my intent to hurt you – physically or emotionally, however I understand that I have. I was being completely selfish. I used you, and that’s not how friends treat each other," I speak.

"No, it’s not."

"Joe, I want us to get past this. I don’t want to throw away our friendship over my poor judgment. I care about you too much lose you as a friend."

"You did hurt me, Mike. I wanted to be with you, but not like that. I wanted what you and Chester have."

"I’m not sure you do," I respond. "Obviously there is trouble in paradise if I’m sneaking in your room in the middle of the night for sex.

"True," Joe says. "I didn’t mean to be a complete asshole this morning, but I felt used. I wanted to get you back for hurting me."

"I completely understand that, Joe. I deserved it," I say solemnly.

"No, neither of us deserved any of this, including Chester. But what has happened is in the past, dwelling on it isn’t going to help us any," Joe reasons.

"I agree. Thanks for being cool about this. I really am sorry, Joe. I wasn’t thinking with my proper head. I really do want us to get past this."

"I do too," he replies and places his hand briefly on my shoulder.

"Come here and give me a hug," I speak holding out my arms. We embrace one other, lightly weeping on each other’s shoulder plagued with regret.

We let go and Joe asks, "Did you and Chaz work everything out?"

"I don’t know. I hope so, but things don’t look good."

"I’m sorry about that, man."

"Yeah, I am too. I am too," I utter as my thoughts drift off into space. Realizing I’ve lost myself in a daze I shake my head to deposit me back into reality. "Well, I’m going to go. I just wanted to apologize to you."

"For what it’s worth, I’m glad you did," Joe informs me.

I pat his knee over his covers and say, "Thanks man. Really," and leave the room.

~*~*~*

Not knowing what to do with myself, I decide to go out on the porch for a cigarette. I’m surprised when I find Chester already there.

"Oh, hi," I say feeling uncomfortable. "I can go back inside if you want me too."

"No, it’s okay," he says half-heartedly. "Since when did you start smoking?"

"Since this morning," I answer. "By the way, I snagged a pack from your dresser. I hope you don’t mind."

"Whatever, I don’t care," he blankly responds.

I walk to the porch railing and let my gaze fall upon the back yard. It’s completely littered with cigarette butts – butts that weren’t there this morning. Apparently, Chester has been busy.

"Smoke much?" I ask teasingly lighting my cigarette.

Chester just shrugs. All of his sparkle has left him. He broods, appearing almost lifeless. I feel my stomach churn as I know I have brought this grief on him. We smoke in silence. I fight the urge to grab him in my arms and never let him go. I know that’s not what he wants, though. Not now.

I finish my cigarette and toss it off the porch and watch it take its place with the other butts that pollute our lawn.

"Well, I’m going to go back inside. I’ll be in my room if you want to talk," I say gently.

He responds with a cold, "Fine."

I hang my head down and trudge back into the house and return to my room. Depressed, I decide to try to sleep in order to escape the pain.

~*~*~*~*~

I wake encased in someone’s grasp and the feel of a warm body nuzzled up against my back. Looking over my shoulder I see Chester behind me. I’m completely surprised, yet thrilled, to find him there.

"Hi, baby," I greet him.

"Hi," he speaks timidly and squeezes me tightly.

"I’m so glad to see you."

"Me too," he responds and begins nibbling the back of my neck.

I’m stunned by his actions, but decide to just go along with it, not wanting him to take his hands off of me...EVER.

He begins to tug lightly at my hair as continues to place his teeth gently on my neck. "Chester..." I whisper consumed by the moment. Urgently needing his lips on mine I flip over in the bed to face him. Hungrily I place my lips on top of his, manipulating my tongue into his mouth. My hands grasp the sides of his face and I pull him closer to intensify our kiss and I feel that I have grown fully stimulated. My actions are of a man possessed. All my total being can concentrate on is him. After having nearly lost him completely, I revel in each kiss, each touch, each moment.

I roll him over on his back and climb on top of him, still eagerly kissing him. Chester wraps his arms around my lower back pushing them under my t- shirt and I feel his nails dig softly into my flesh. I am pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoy the sensation.

I pull my mouth away from his and whisper, "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Yes, Mike, I need you."

I think those are the finest words I have ever heard in my entire life. My shaking hands fumble clumsily as I pull off Chester’s shirt and begin to work on the button of his pants. As I labor at the removal of his slacks he yanks on my t-shirt indicating he wants it gone. After lowering his zipper I help him pull my shirt over my head. I pull his khakis and boxers down his hips as I breathily state, "I can’t wait to taste you, Chester."

I study his face in reaction to my words. His eyes fix on me attentively as he bites his bottom lip. He’s so fucking sexy I just want to ravage him. I want to endlessly bathe in his skin. I want to eat him up, fully consuming him.

Urgently, I unfasten my pants and remove them along with my shorts. Climbing back on top of him, I sit on his abdomen placing a knee on each side of his torso. My hands run greedily across his chest, rubbing, clawing and lightly pinching.

"Mike, please..." Chester begins to beg writhing his hips beneath me.

"Please what?" I respond devilishly.

"Taste me, Mike, taste me."

Hearing him beg makes my head woozy with desire. Swiftly I move myself down his body between his legs, enclosing his firmness with my mouth. I allow him to lightly thrust his hips towards me as I glide my mouth up and down his length. I permit as much of him in my mouth as my body is willing to accept. Chester’s hips begin to thrust faster as he releases tiny moans, emitting a "Mike," every few groans. I can’t get enough if the sound of my name on his lips. With a boisterous final moan Chester sinks his hands into my hair and pulls softly while he allows my mouth to be filled with his sweet liquor.

Concealing his fluid in my mouth, I move up his body for a kiss. After I plant my mouth on his I part my lips causing his solution to empty into his mouth. Initially he is surprised, but consumed in the illicitness of my actions he sinks his tongue deep into my mouth feverishly exploring every crevice.

The act of him consuming his own fluid immensely excites me. I pull my mouth away liking my lips to catch the drops of solution that have escaped both Chester’s and my mouth. Roughly, I flip him over on his stomach causing him to produce an astonished squeal. I run my hand down his body admiring his tattoo decorated back and slender flame.

Reaching into my nightstand beside the bed, I retrieve a small bottle of Wet. To give myself better access to Chester I grab both of the pillows from my bed and help place them underneath his torso. My hands explore the soft supple skin of his buttocks and gently I part the folds of skin, exposing his opening. I place small kisses around the orifice and delicately explore it with my tongue.

"God, Mike," Chester moans in approval.

I allow my tongue to gently probe him as I burry my face in his skin. As I continue to lick him, I open the bottle of lubrication and squeeze a liberal amount on my hand. I remove my mouth from his opening and allow two of my fingers to penetrate him and lubricate him internally. I study my fingers as they sink repeatedly in and out of his body, arousing me further until I can no longer stand it. I remove my fingers and open the bottle of lube again and coat my immense stiffness. Securing myself behind him I guide myself into him. Chester gasps in response to the sensation of being filled.

"Damn, Chester," I whisper in reaction to my own sensations. "I’m going to fuck the breath out of you."

"Hurt me, Mike," Chester pleas.

"What?" I ask thinking that I must have heard him wrong.

"Hurt me."

Those words turn me on more than any other two words have in the entire English language. In response, I pummel myself in and out of him harshly, in complete elation.

Chester cries out. I’m not sure if it is in pleasure or pain but am too consumed to care. I just can’t stop myself, he feels too good. Forcefully I continue to thrust myself into him as my hands grab his writs, holding them firmly against the bed. The dominance my body commands over his makes me drunk with control-lust.

"Mike!" Chester yells. Again, I cannot tell if his tone is that of satisfaction or terror. I feel my body reach its boiling point, and I ecstatically empty myself into Chester’s body emitting a deafening groan.

My body collapses onto his, desperately trying to regain breath. My hands let his wrists go free. After several moments of lying in silence I remove myself from inside of him and roll him over onto his back.

My lips explore his and he slides his arms around my waist.

"Thank you, Chester," I say looking into his eyes. Caught up in one hundred emotions at once, most of adulation and happiness, tears stream down my face.

"I love you Mike. I couldn’t bear losing you," he responds as his eyes begin to water.

I wrap my arms around him and whisper in his ear, "Baby, I’ll never let you go."

*~*~*~*~

A month later Chester and I are cuddled up on his bed watching Sex in the City. When the show ends I place a kiss on his cheek and ask, "Do you know what today is?"

Excitedly he responds, "No, what?"

"It’s our one month anniversary."

"You remembered!" he squeals in glee.

"Of course I did. And I got you a little something."

"You did?"

"Yep, hold on."

I jump out of the bed to retrieve the gift from my room and quickly return.

"Here you go!" I say handing him the large box.

"What is it?" he asks wide-eyed.

"Well open it up!"

Chester tears through the box and removes the lid. He reaches into the box and pulls out the present, studying it to determine what it is. "Mike! They’re flannel sheets!"

"These are for your bed so we don’t have to always sleep in my room," I inform him.

"You’re so sweet!" he exclaims and we throw our arms around each other, embracing in sheer contentment.



*~THE END~*