Friendship can be a Relationship… Right?

Hey, first off I’d like to say thanks to the deities for helping me find this site. Secondly I’d like to point out that this is my first Linkin Park fic, because the chance to write before was unfairly taken away from me at the appallingly spineless site a.k.a Fanfiction. Net, so please don’t kill me if it sucks. And now before I continue to rant and rave about the miraculous odds of me finding this site and nirvana, I give you the fic. But first:

DISCLAIMER: No unfortunately I don’t own the members of Linkin Park, especially Chester, Mike and Brad. However I have written and sent many letters and offers stating what they would get if they came to me… I’m sttttillllll waiting! So instead I solely live to write Linkin Park slash for the purpose of my own and possibly your pleasure… but I’m okay with that! And while I continue to wait, you can read my story. (btw) I do own Marin, and if you want the details on her past life, I already have her story… if you want to hear it, cause she won’t be explaining it in this story for a long while.

CHAPTER 1

(Chester’s POV)

As my lips reach theirs’, I kiss them, while out of passion and lust, at the same time out of desperation. However I wish I could say it was of my feelings towards them, but it’s not. Instead it’s a desperate need to extinguish the guilt I feel for… for him. I’m not even saying his name but just a reference and it just feels so undeserving. I mentally laugh at myself for the bitterness I’m feeling. That I hate him for making me feel! But I know it’s not is fault, but if my own downfall. How does the saying go, “You made this bed now lie in it?” Well mine must be a waterbed because I’m deep within it.

I kiss them more roughly as I try to block out the thoughts but they continue to come. And I swear the thoughts are shouting at me. When we kissed, how sometimes it could be soft and passionate and other times it could be rough and lustful, and yet sometimes it could just be a mixture of both. The things that we told one another. I mean god, telling him how I was molested in my childhood! Shouldn’t that have been enough to want to stay with him forever… no one but him? Thoughts of us making love, not fucking, but making love is accusing me. Although there have been quite a few occasions where we have just fucked, and even that’s accusing me!

I hear the other person moan loudly as they cling tighter to me. It lets me know that I’m doing my job quite well even if I’m not entirely there with them. I did love him once, I mean how could you not love him. That warm smile that seemed to be plastered to his face and yet it seemed that whenever he gazed it upon you, you seemed to feel alive and noticed, as if that smile was for you and you alone. How whenever he so much as turned to look your way you felt special. How could you possibly be the one who fell out of love with him! It was more of a scolding than a question, for I’d already know the answer to it.

I fell out of love with him because, at the time, in my confusion of the strong feelings I had for him and my relationship problems with Sam, I thought those strong feelings were love. And I wasn’t too far off. However I didn’t love him the way a lover should but as a brother. However so much had happened and we had sacrificed so much that by then I realized what I truly did feel for him, I was in too deep to get out.

What pains did we go through and what sacrifices did we both make, you ask? Well obviously he left his girlfriend, and while that was a painful process of which he broke down in my arms the night before he broke-up with her, I wish I could say the same thing for myself.

My relationship problems with Sam had started way before I questioned my sexuality. I had suspected quite a few times that she was cheating on me, three years into our marriage, so I was obviously twenty-three and we had just made it big with Linkin Park and our first record, meaning that of course she wouldn’t leave me.

I had already been having feelings for him, I mean how could I not, we spent the most time together out of the group. Sometimes I think that I used my relationship with him as a way to spite Sam, just so she could feel guilty. Well after two years of self-beating and depression from the both of us, we finally did tell each other how we felt, meaning I was twenty-five. So after nine months of debating, much due to the fact that Sam was pregnant, I finally decided to sacrifice Dravven just so I could be with him. I had simply waited that long to at least see what he looked like.

When I told her I knew about her sneaking around, was gay, and dating my best friend and fellow band-mate, who also happened to be a male, just the look on her face alone was enough to compensate for the shit she put me through.

Then of course we had to hide our relationship from not only the guys in the band but the fans and media as well. Which believe me, wasn’t easy. I had gotten so stressed out that I wasn’t eating right or getting that much sleep, if any, and when you get as sick as frequently as me, not taking care of yourself only further adds to the problem.

He wasn’t getting that much sleep either and sometimes would get snappy at the others when we were on the road or at rehearsal, and the nights that he would get sleep would only be from crying himself to exhaustion. Finally after I just couldn’t take seeing him that way, I told him that we were telling the others, and if they so much as tried to hurt him, I would be there.

However their reactions, I’m fortunate enough to say, were quite the opposites. Apparently Brad, Marin and Phoenix had known for quite sometime now, so of course they were just happy for us. Joe was just Joe so he wouldn’t care either way, he just had more material in that hyperactive mind of his to work with. Rob was a little uneasy around us for a while but warmed up to us later. Our manager didn’t care, as long as it didn’t harm our careers; he wanted to know if he could buy us wedding presents. And the guys were totally supportive of our choice to either keep it secret or tell the press about our relationship. Obviously we chose the latter part of the two.

Our lawyer, Brad and Marin even pitched in on a good case I could use to get custody of Dravven. Our pleas were that Dravven wouldn’t have stable home-life with a mother who brought home a different guy every night, so he would never get the value of a true father and it showed negligence as a parent to not think about the permanent scarring the child could receive at the hands of his mother bringing home a biased amount of men home every night. Also the child could learn a bad habit that it’s okay to fool around with more than one person from watching his mother. And I have to point out that Marin and Brad made all of these statements while our lawyer was pretty much the puppet.

Sam’s only pleas, pathetic as they were, were that I wasn’t a good husband or father, was never there and that when I was, I was always drunk or beating her. Since she had no evidence to back her claims of abuse or my “drunken” behavior the judge ruled in our favor. After our plea that while on the road, Dravven would come with us and be watched by Marin whiled we performed.

So after that you’d think everything would just be all peachy and fine right?... Well you are sadly mistaken. Now that I didn’t have any problems to worry about from the guys, Sam, Dravven, or the media, all I had to focus on was my relationship with him. Since we’d been together about six months before we told the guys and it took about seven months with the coming out to them and the court hearing, what with touring and all, so I’d been with him for one whole year without questioning anything for him. My how time flies when you have enough drama to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

So that was a year ago and in that time Dravven has lived with us and I’ve got to tell yah, seeing him with the baby acting in such a mothering way, and panicking whenever Draven has so much as a cold or just a case of the sniffles. And to tell you the truth I honestly was happy. But having the family life even though we weren’t married and the two of us accepting the roles we were playing can really make you think.

During that time was when I started questioning my feelings for him. When we kissed for some reason I’d feel… I don’t know, awkward. When we made love I’d feel kind of weirded-out but luckily he hadn’t noticed anything. This all started making me question everything about myself and the way I felt about him. I did love making him laugh and loved spending time with him. I loved that it was only him I tell things to and vice versa. I would get jealous if people were flirting with him, and I did always want to protect him and I never wanted to see him sad.

And that’s when I realized, I didn’t love him the way a lover would but in the way of an older brother. I loved joking and hanging around with him but only as a friend or brother would. I wouldn’t get jealous if other people were flirting with him but protective because I didn’t want to see him hurt or I didn’t trust the people. If he had a problem I wanted to make sure I could fix it and I’d comfort him until he fell asleep if he was crying. When I realized this, I’m still not sure but I do know how I ended up in my present predicament.

FLASHBACK

It had all stated about four months ago. We were in Phoenix wrapping up one of our tours before heading back to LA. Since were leaving tomorrow after noon, the rest of the guys had decided to go back to the hotel and get some much-needed rest but I had decided drive around for a little bit. This was my hometown after all and it had been awhile since I had last seen it so I wanted to reminisce. Everyone in the group understood.

I drove to the mall, one of my old stomping grounds when I was younger. Wearing a shoulder-length brown wig, some classic shades, and a black baseball cap that was squashed low over my head, covering my eyes, I browsed around a couple of stores. Only leaving if I caught more than a couple suspicious glances my way.

After awhile I decided to get something to eat at the food-mart but deciding to have it to go, thinking it would only be suicide to sit at a secluded table and have all eyes on me while the exits were not in walking distance of me.

After finally deciding on Mc Donald’s, and not being surprised by my choice, considering that this was one of the only things we’d been eating on the road for the past three months, I walked into the restaurant and what are the odds of who I ran into.

She stood there just staring at me, her face mirroring mine, with a nervous smile on her face. We stood there with an awkward silence for what seemed like an eternity, when in reality it was only six minutes, something I think is still too long to not draw attention to ourselves. What snapped us out of our trance was something I would not only later regret from the actions it caused but also wonder if it was fate for what happened.

“OH MY GOD! IT IS HIM AND LOOK… THAT”S HIS WIFE!!!” Some girl squealed at the top of her lungs soon followed by similar replicates all around the restaurant. The two of us snapped out of our trance, both trying to find out the owner of the caused commotion, but both dreading what we saw. Hundred of girls with hunger-written eyes circling us. And before I even had time to think I grabbed my now infamous ex-wife’s hand and sprinted for the nearest exit, dodging over and knocking down crazed fan girls in the process.

Behind me, I could hear her slightly gasp but tighten her grip on my hand. We hurdled through the crowds of on-lookers who, I can imagine, found our scene quite interesting. Finally seeing the front doors I had come into well in my sights, I quickened my pace, her right on my heels. As soon as we reached my car I pushed her over into the passengers seat, closed and locked all the doors and windows, making sure that there wasn’t so much as a crack for a fly to get in.

As I was about to drive back to the hotel, a thought occurred to me. They were fans of us after all so they no doubt all ready knew that we were staying at the hotel and would probably be swarming around the place by the time we got there. And as if sensing my worries she asked me what was wrong, and once explained to her she went silent, obviously in deep thought. After about a minute or so, with me driving as to not run into any psycho-fans lurking near by, she hesitantly spoke. “ I’m... staying at... a motel not to far from hear if you want to hide,” she said going silent immediately afterward.

Deciding not to bother asking her why she was staying at a motel since she had her own life and had been a single woman for over a year now, I just asked her for directions. After arriving at the not too shabby motel, we quickly scurried to her room. I guess she had went to the mall for some food for her and her {i]“guest” because she had more than enough for just her self. I thought to myself as she sat herself and the food down onto the bed.

As I took in the scenery of the room, I noticed that it was pretty much like an expensive hotel room, much like the one we were staying in, except there was no mini-bar, complementary mint on the pillows, or brand-name soap on the dressers, yet I found it all shockingly too nice to be a motel room, but I wasn’t complaining… about that anyway.

I backed away to the wall over by the slide-through, suddenly feeling quite awkward being in a room with my ex. And who could blame me? I was the husband who, though had good reason to, divorced, took her baby away, and told her I was gay. Something I’m sure could, if she really cared, have scarred her or any other women for life.

For a while we just sat, or in my case stood, in complete silence, the same silence infact, that had fell upon us earlier in the restaurant. After what felt like an eternity, Sam finally spoke, or rather cried quite loudly, completely catching me off guard.

When I finally regained my composure, I realized that she was speaking between her, now turned to, sobs. They were barely audible and her crying were making her words either jumbled up or squished together, but I was able to slowly process what she was saying. “I-I-I’mm ssss-so sssssoooo---rrrr—rry. Inevermeant t-to hurt you.” Her words were slowly starting to become more relaxed and pronounceable. Soon she was able to form whole sentences without sobbing or stuttering.

END FLASHBACK

(So let’s just go with the teen movies of: her crying, me going to comfort her, us feeling sorry for ourselves, and then making out… and… going further. That all happened about six months ago. So quick recap for anyone who’s still going through too munch detail right now to process my info. He and I met when I was twenty-three, we got together when I was twenty-five, He and I got custody of Dravven when I was twenty-six, and now I'm twenty-seven. So, I’ve been faithful to him for two years… well 1 year and six months.)

Getting back to reality, I finally feel myself climaxing, satisfied that my body was here even if my mind, knowing that that would be hard to explain otherwise. “AHHH!!! CHESTER!!” They scream before going quiet, obviously spent, making me scream their name just as much, so as not to get suspicious. “SAM!” I scream finally releasing my seed, before collapsing on top of her.

After slowly regaining my posture, my thoughts began to travel to him, making me feel guilty, knowing that I had just performed the same motions with him, just the night before. My lover, my best friend, Michael Kenji Shinoda.

END

O…K… I’m done and hopefully, if you review me, you can tell just how over-dramatic my ending was, if not the whole chapter. But don’t worry, this is just the first chapter, next chap, we not "only" get a confession from Chester to Mike, but Mike’s POV, and possibly others. But please review in order to do so, I desperately need attention.