I don't own Linkin Park and this never happened.

This idea came into my head one night, but when I'd started writing it, it was for a different fandom, personally I think it fit’s a lot better with these guys. Oh yes, this is my first post to this site, I've never posted any of my linkin park sash before, so I hope you like it. All mistakes are my own.

The clock buzzed, it was six-thirty. Mike didn’t need to look at the small alarm to know that. Everyday he awoke at the same time, no matter how late he went to bed the night before. He didn’t need to leave the bed for another fifteen minutes, it gave him a chance to come to, watching his roomy penthouse apartment from the confines of his bed.

Like a Hollywood actor and their Oscars, this was his proof of success. It was ultra modern, filled with shiny monochrome and dark leather. One side of the main room was pure glass, he felt like a king when he looked out of the window; a king looking down on his empire.

Mike worked for a financial firm, he was pretty high up, which was how he paid for the dream apartment. He'd worked hard to get where he was, growing up in a poor family was a struggle, and with four brothers money had been sparse. He never had the opportunity to go to college like he had dreamed of. He'd wanted to go to art school, he imagined painting the world, sculpting every star. But dreams don’t pay, luckily being an executive director for the biggest bank in the state did.

Another beep from his alarm clock came fifteen minutes later, it was time to leave the bed and get into the shower, he'd spend another fifteen minutes under the warm spray before choosing a shirt and tie, hoping to make it out of the apartment just after seven and arriving at the office around half past.

He sighed loudly, he really didn’t want to leave the bed. The mornings were cold, it was the middle of February and the suede blankets and plush pillows seemed so much more inviting than the harsh cold day ahead.

The tattooed man with the nearly black eyes was pretty hard to leave as well. Chester, that was his name, they'd been sleeping together for a few weeks. It was going smoothly considering they were so different. Whilst Mike worked in an office, sitting behind a computer screen, Chester was pulling pints at the grimy bar he worked at. Mike also considered himself a conformist and he didn’t like conflicts, whereas Chester lived to piss people off, telling them exactly what he thinks no matter who it may affect.

***

They'd met at Chester's work place, Brad's Bar. Mike and a few of his colleagues had had a rough day at work and were looking for a place to unwind. They needed alcohol and some chicks, by the time they'd reached the bar, their ties had been discarded and the shirt collars undone, the hard day soon to be forgotten.

Mike offered to get the first round, whilst the others found an empty booth. He sat down at a bar stool and waited to be served. There were two guys serving, the one he presumed was called Brad had dark curly hair and was joking with two girls. The other was bent over the bar, his ear pressed against the mouth of an aging, overweight drunk. He watched as the barman shook his head lightly and pulled away, obviously disagreeing with whatever the man had said.

"Fine, I'll go. This bar sucks anyway!" the drunk slurred, pushing his stool back and stumbling out of the building.

"Good! You fucking pervert!" The barman screeched back, causing people to look up at the commotion. Mike was a little shocked, he didn’t think it was very professional to shout at a customer, no matter what had provoked him.

"Sorry man, what can I get you?" Mike turned his eyes up to see the barman smiling at him. He had a nice smile, Mike noted, as he answered him. As the man turned away to fetch the drinks, Mike checked him out. Mike's sexuality was simple, he went either way. He liked the way a girl's body would fill out a dress but he also loved having a man suck on his dick. It was no secret that he was partial to cock, his family and friend's had no problem with it.

It had, however, been along time since a man had turned him on as much as this barman did. He was fairly short and had a small frame, but he didn’t look feminine with it, it was a nice change, Mike was fed up of all these skinny men with inches of make up smeared on their faces. He didn’t even like it when girls wore make up. He preferred people in their natural beauty. 'This guy', he mused silently, 'has a lot of natural beauty.'

Once he had paid for the drinks he sat back down, silently listening to his friends loudly bantering away with each other. Nameless girls had joined his workmates since he had gotten the drinks and he could see Rob's-his closest friend and main confidant- hand slipping into a brass looking girl's bra, she was wearing a mixture of fake leather and animal print.

He took a sip of his drink, and looked around the bar, he noticed how out of place his workmates and he looked. Whereas they were sitting in expensive suits and large designer watches, everybody else looked as if they hadn't showered in weeks and most of the girls were wearing similar to was Rob's new playmate was.

It was only when he saw Rob's hand sliding up the chick's dress that Mike felt the need to remove himself from the booth. He had always felt uncomfortable watching his friend's getting with people, even when he, himself was with someone, he always seemed like an intruder of some sort.

He mumbled an excuse to leave, and climbed his way across the table, he ran quickly to the exit and took a deep breath as he opened the double doors. The cool, clean air hit his face and lungs so hard he gasped audibly.

"Stacey has syphilis." Mike turned around to where the voice had come from, he was taken aback to see the barman from earlier leaning against the brick wall, smoking a cigarette.

"Who's Stacey?" Mike asked, feeling clueless yet intrigued as to why this man had decided to start a conversation.

"Oh, the chick that was sitting with you, badly bleached hair, likes wearing animal print? I just thought I'd warn you, she was getting pretty cozy with your friend." He pushed himself off from the wall and walked over to Mike.

"Rob's a sensible guy, he'll use protection if they sleep together. I doubt they will, I mean Rob's not like that, he--" Mike was silenced by a finger pressed against his lips.

"My name's Chester, who are you?" Apart from being surprised by the barman's forwardness, he was confused by the sparks that jolted his spine as the man had touched him, sure the guy was hot, but he wasn’t expecting to feel that.

"Mike, Mike Shinoda." He awkwardly stuck out his hand, feeling slightly embarrassed as Chester looked at his hand with a smirk.

"Mike, huh? Yah, you look like a Mike." His eyes ran up and down Mike's body. "You work in an office, I bet, dressed like that, you must do. I feel sorry for you, dude."

"I like my job." Mike cringed inwardly at his pathetic attempt at defending his job. "It pays well." He added feebly, turning away as Chester raised his eyebrows.

"Money isn't everything. You know, I live above this bar with Brad, he pays me minimum wage and my room is tiny but I love my life, I get paid to get people drunk, and they all tell me their secrets. I'm a pretty good judge of people, and I have a pretty good idea about you already." He called, catching up with Mike. In return the latter turned towards the barman again, feeling agitated, horny and highly confused.

"So why don’t you tell me all about myself then, if you're such a fucking good judge of character?"

"You think you've made it in life but you haven't. You're what, 25? You gave up your dreams to become what you are now and you pretend that you're happy with yourself but deep down you know you're not. You think you've wasted life, but really you've just begun." He said the last bit barely above a whisper. "I'm also thinking that you want to take me back to your house and fuck my brains out." He smiled arrogantly. "Which I have to agree sounds like a fucking awesome idea." He added, stubbing out the remains of his cigarette and grabbing Mike's hand. "lead the way baby!"

Mike didn’t move, the guy had insulted him, given his opinion on the way he lives his life and decided they were going to have a one night stand. In the space of one sentence! "I don’t even know you!" Mike added helplessly.

"Then get to know me." Chester's voice became seductively deep, as he pressed a lingering kiss upon Mike's lips. Mike really couldn’t remember a time when a hot guy or girl so willingly forced themselves upon him, figuring this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, he quickly starting leading the way towards his silver Mercedes.

Turned out it was a great idea. Mike was pretty sure it was the best sex he'd ever had, considering he'd never really done it out of a stable relationship before. He practically saw stars as he felt Chester's muscles tighten around his dick. He watched in pure delight as the barman rode his cock, curses and moans escaping his lips as he threw his head back. Mike strengthened his grip on the skinny hips as he came, pulling Chester down so hard the bed squeaked loudly.

They dwelled in the aftermath silently, Chester lighting up another cigarette as he rested against Mike's shoulder. It had definitely been an experience neither would forget in a hurry. Mike smiled, remembering how Chester had reacted when he'd started sucking him off, carefully slipping two fingers into his ass, trying to prepare the older for the penetration that he'd soon be feeling.

"That man earlier in the bar; the old drunk, why did you shout at him?" Mike's curiosity returned to him as looked over at the alarm clock; 01:27. He had to be up for work in just over five hours.

"He gave me proposition. Pretty much asked to fuck me, which is gross, I don’t do one night stands." The irony in what Chester had just said was obvious and they both laughed out loud. "I'm being serious though, I don’t do this, I feel totally weird towards you, I don’t jump into bed with anyone that asks."

"I didn’t; you practically ordered me too."

"Yeah, but you wanted to though, I could see it the moment I served you those drinks tonight, you wanted me and I wanted you back. Plus we used a condom so what harm can this do?" If only they knew.

***

With a lot of effort Mike managed to haul himself out of the bed and make his way to the bathroom. As he stood under the warm water he pondered the last few weeks; it had been strange, he was unsure if they were in a relationship or not, he felt to embarrassed to ask, afraid Chester would laugh at him, it had become very clear that his opinion mattered very much to Mike.

The last relationship he had been in was about a year and a half ago and had lasted six months. She was a pretty brunette called Jenna. She'd worked in the wine bar he frequented after work and she had the most amazing body, tanned and curvy. Things were great, they had a lot in common but there wasn't any passion, at least not enough, so they parted ways, promising to keep in touch.

It was the complete opposite with Chester though, they had so little in common yet so much passion. He felt so completely disillusioned when Chester would give his -usually twisted- opinion on a certain topic but as soon as he was inside the barman everything changed, he felt as if he'd come home (as corny as it sounded).

All though they spent most of the time fucking, there was something else there, Mike just couldn’t put his finger on it. He craved Chester, but on an emotional level as well. Sometimes, after a busy day at work Mike would love to spend the night on the phone, just listening to Chester's philosophy's on life would calm him down. It scared him frankly, after a few weeks of sex, one shouldn't be depending on another so much.

When Mike stepped out the shower he noticed he was running a few minutes late, after mentally cursing himself for getting caught up in his thoughts he dressed, picking out a pale blue shirt and a red tie. Once he was ready he crept back into the bedroom where Chester was still sleeping. Since they'd been 'together' Chester had cut his work hours down, realising that Brad couldn’t sack him because that would lose him a best friend, worker and rent payer. He now only worked two nights a week, Thursdays and Saturdays (although he helped open up most afternoons). Today however was Thursday, which meant he wouldn’t be seeing Mike tonight, which was why Mike was currently rousting the barman awake.

"Urgh. It's too early, go away." He mumbled, turning his face completely into the pillow, trying to ignore Mike's persistent calling of his name.

"Chester--Chester wake up, you can go back to sleep when I go." Mike waited patiently for Chester to huff loudly before turning over, opening his sleepy eyes blearily. "I've gotta go to work but phone if you wanna do something tomorrow night, you're working tonight, remember? You can leave here when you're ready but I've got my cleaning lady coming round about 11 so don't worry if you hear someone." When he saw Chester nod, he pressed a hesitant kiss to his cheek. He was about to get up when he felt strong arms pulling him back down onto the bed.

Surprise stopped Mike from reacting straight away, he simply let Chester force his tongue into his mouth. "Is that all you were gonna give me? A kiss on the cheek? I deserve more." Mike rolled his eyes as arrogance overcame the sleepy-ness in Chester's voice. Mike kissed back for a bit, pushing both tongues back into the barman's mouth, it was warm and wet and so tempting but Mike was already late enough, with a great reluctance he pulled away and got up.

"I really have to go now. I'll see you tomorrow." He muttered, deciding against wiping away the spit on his lips. He turned around and walked out the bedroom, he picked his car keys up and was just about to leave when he heard a thump, a groan and Chester stumbling after him. Mike couldn’t help but be amused by Chester standing in front of him in nothing more than a pair of boxers, they were dangling low on his skinny waist.

"No wait! Wait, come to the bar tonight, after work. We can hang out, plus I'm getting fucking tired of your apartment, it's not that great, you know? It's too impersonal, it has no personality. A home should reflect the owner but this place just screams boring and shallow." Mike didn’t have the time or energy to be offended by Chester's clear insult towards him. He didn’t mean it, Mike knew that, plus it wasn’t the worst thing he'd said towards the younger man since they'd started fucking.

"Well, I'm intrigued as to what your place looks like now, I'm guessing it'll be decorated with lemons and painfully bright lights. Sour and in your face." Mike smiled and turned around, finally glad to have gotten one over on the barman. "See you later Chester."

Ideas and thoughts are very welcome.