LPfiction

Category Linkin Park

Fuck Love. by Nikiyah Caye

Artificial Ginger

Okay, Rolling With the Tide is still a work in progress. I decided to take a break and write something a little lighter in theme. Hopefully you guys like it.


-Mike's POV-


The crowd roared their approval as we finished up our first set of the Meteora tour with Faint. I couldn't even hear the music anymore. I didn't know what I was saying into the mike, I didn't know what time or what day... What I did know, is that I wanted to stay here in this very moment for the rest of my life. This was what I lived for.


"Don't turn your back on me! I won't be ignored!"

"Say what?"

"I won't be ignored!"


The crowd surged with energy. The rocked on their heels and screamed along with Chester. The roar was deafening.


"Say WHAT?" I yelled one last time.

"I won't be IGNORED!" Chester had just poured his heart out into the crowd and they freaked.


He and I took the center stage for a bow. He had taken this to be some kind of tradition. Every concert he waved me next to him to offer our crowds a little farewell. I loved it.


Production Manager Jim Digby ushered us to the tour bus. We were leaving Dallas, Texas tonight, getting showered and shit, then we were off on the international tour. Our plane to France departed at one in the morning.


I was the first one on the bus with Rob right behind me. We were both grinning ear to ear. He peeled his sweat-soaked shirt from his body and pitched it to the floor before collapsing in the couch.


"First concert down!"

"Hell yeah!"


I grabbed two beers out of the bus's mini fridge and tossed him one. I sat down on the table across from him and chugged half of it. The cold sensation was orgasmic.


Rob closed his eyes and leaned his head back. The poor dude had laid his heart out...on the first concert.


"You set expectations, dude" I laughed. You're going to have to play just that good, if not better, every concert after this."


"I knowww," he groaned, "Their energy was like an all-time high. So much for our sophomore album failing."


We clinked bottles, "I'll fucking toast to that. They said we'd fall on our face second album. Cheers to 3/4 of our tour being sold out before first concert!" I yelled.


Joe and Brad came through the door next. Brad grabbed me in an abrasive man-hug.


"Dude, you're so gross," I laughed pushing him away from me. He grabbed himself a beer out of the fridge and one for Joe.


"Rob," he said, "you look like a Greek Goddess."


I snorted beer out of my nose. The shit burned. Rob did, though. His mane of hair was dramatically brown back thanks to the fans he had on him while he drummed. He lay bare-chested with just black low-rise jeans that were stuck to his skin with sweat as well. He didn't have the abs per se, but he did have a defined chest with some good cuts.


"Too bad he doesn't smell like one." We all laughed and continued to catch our breath from the mayhem that was tonight.


Jim peeked into the bus. "Where the hell.."

"Oh no. Jimmy's lost Chester again," I sighed.

They all laughed some more.


Dave came running into the bus, tripped and face planted into the fake tile floor and we lost it. He was red-faced but laughing as well. Brad had tears rolling down his cheeks.


"Fans," Dave wheezed out of breath, "chased...us...fuck...Chester..."

We were laughing even harder as he sat up clutching the stitch in his side.


"Chester, NO!" Jim yelled from outside.

We all just looked at each other. There was a monstrous pounding above us and it sounded as if the bus were caving in.


"He's on the roof!"

"People were yelling outside, mainly Jim, for him to get down. You could hear every footstep he took, and since he was running.. well it wasn't a mystery which way he was going. Jim was chasing him back and forth and at one point I heard Chester let out a breathless giggle through the roof vents.


For the second time in ten minutes, I snorted beer out my nose. A couple minutes later, Chester came walking in the door followed by a disgruntled-looking Jim.


The whole situation was out of hand. My stomach hurt from laughing so hard. Joe was giggling and hiccuping into the carpet.


The laughter died down, as did Jim's irritation as he spoke, "Amazing show tonight, gentlemen. Dallas knows who Linkin Park is. And France is next!"


We all yelled and clinked beers. I needed space. Slowly, without anyone noticing, I went back to the bunks in the rear of the bus and sat down on the floor in front of mine, enjoying the peace for the moment. Twenty minutes ago, I was pursuing and even encouraging the chaos. Now I was enjoying silence. I might be bipolar.


Chester walked through the curtain that separated the front of the bus from the back and sat across from me. He was shirtless and wearing cargo shorts that showed off his ass..and he had a nice ass. He held a beer in one hand and his other scratched the back of his head. He was rocking the red hair. Mine was jet black with a dark blue tint. We were in our early twenties with more money and fame than we knew what to do with. So fuck it. I wanted blue hair. Chester didn't say the same...so I mixed up some hair dye, stole his shampoo and voila- artificial ginger. He didn't think it was as funny as I did.


I took another swig of my beer and we sat in silence as the bus began to move. It would drop us off at our hotel rooms. From there, we had an hour to be showered, have the rest of our things packed, and on our way to the airport. Sure, Jim. Sure.


I looked up to see Chester staring at me. His dark eyes were assessing. "What's wrong, Mikey?"


Mikey. He was the only human being to call me that and get away with it. When he said it.. it was attractive. Really attractive.


I guess I was bi. I'd slept with a decent amount of girls and the occasional guy. Girls were annoying. Trying all that moaning shit and I have no idea if she means it or not. When a girl fakes you out once, it's hard to put out of your mind, even in that moment.


I hated relationships, though. I'd never been in one for more than a week. They were annoying as well, required maintenance, and I would forget the important dates no doubt. I like music and intelligent conversation.. or even dumb conversation. That's where I got my kicks. Don't get me wrong, I love myself a good fuck, but the feelings attached? Hell no. I traveled for a living and had no desire for the wife and kids. I'd rather get the sex and keep on with my life, no stragglers at home. No worries. Hakuna Mafuckingtata.


"Mike?"

"Nothing's wrong. Really. I'm quite content."

"You don't look that happy to me."

The concert high was wearing off.

"Well.." I began, "I don't think you have to be happy to be content. I think people just define contentness as happiness because most people are content being happy...Does that make sense?"

Chester frowned thinking it over but nodded, "In some twisted way...it really does. Some days I just honestly want to be sad."

"Right? I can be perfectly content sad sometimes or even angry. It's satisfying...it's content."


Chester was silent for a moment. "Mike, have you ever considered being a philosopher?"

I snorted, "Very funny."

"That shit's real, though. It's real."

I nodded and a comfortable silence followed. We both tipped back our bottles until we'd reached the last of them, setting them down beside each other with a grin.


He belched. You have to understand... a man with Chester Bennington's vocal capacity doesn't belch normally. His burps shake the floor on their escape from his body.


What if I were there...in his body. Would I want to escape?


We made it back to the hotels by eleven thirty in the evening- behind schedule. I despised schedules that weren't mine. They had mistakes, errors, holes, and inconveniences. Chester and I did our best to screw up any schedule we were given.


Over-booking at the hotel had led us to share rooms with one other band member for the past week of press, meet&greet, and show warm-ups. I was with Brad.


Chester and I were the first ones in the hotel, running through it like children, stealing a handful of candy from the bowl on the desk, and screaming like idiots. It was a hotel at night and we had just performed our biggest show yet as badass rockers. I'd also just chugged two beers. No buzz, but it made me feel a little warmer than usual.


Chester did a little parkour jump over the main desk that was vacant. It was nearly midnight after all. I ran up the wall into a back flip.


"Okay, enough!" Jim hollered down the hallway, "Down time reduced to a half hour due to traffic. See you shortly!"


"Hear that, Mikey?" Chester whispered in my ear. His breath was minty since the handful of candy he had grabbed was already eaten. He jumped on my back and got even closer, "That means if you're going to rub one off, you're going to need to think of my face so you can get it done fast."


I shoved him off of me when he and I reached the elevator. He pressed the button before Brad got in and it closed with just Chester and I in it. I pressed the eighth floor's button. He pressed the rest of them.


"You know Chaz, if anything that should be you. We all know my face is the most cum-worthy out there. You're just jealous you don't have the talent that goes along with it."


"Michael Shinoda. If only you could back up the words you spoke," he purred with his eyes darker than before.


I smirked, "Chazzy, you have no idea."


His eyebrows raised, "So do something. Back it up. What talent does Mikey have?"


I scoffed, "Like you could handle it, Bennington."


The sexual tension that had just came about was threatening to suffocate me. We had reached floor seven. Just one more until I got out of here. God, it was hot.


Chester pulled the emergency stop. The elevator stopped moving. I stopped breathing. The air was electrically charged.


He put his hands on my chest and shoved me into the wall of the elevator. He put a hand on either side of my face. Intimidation.


I'd dealt with that before, so I wasn't phased. I grabbed his upper arms and slammed him into the opposite wall before he could react. His lips met mine in a frenzy of heat. The warmth he brought in just that kiss seared me all the way to my toes. He still hadn't put a shirt on, and he pressed against my chest with his. Dominance.


I shoved him harder into the wall and he bit my lip, running his tongue along it slowly, teasingly. I put both my hands in his hair, pulling his head back from mine. He growled, eyes thoroughly dilated. I smiled with satisfaction before taking my mouth back to his, giving him enough tongue to leave him begging for another taste. He moaned. His body dug into mine and I almost lost every ounce of composure I had managed to maintain up until now. I worked my way to his ear. "Try to keep up, Bennington."


I released the elevator brake and we were at floor eight. The doors opened and I walked without a backward glance to my room, leaving him in utter disbelief, standing in an elevator. I got showered, dressed, and packed in about ten minutes. Maybe I'd get some time to myself on the way there. Brad was already three sheets to the wind. I got him into a cold shower and he started yelling, sobering up rather fast. I took that as my que to leave.


I had a rolling suitcase and a book bag accompanying me on my travels. I walked to the elevator and made it to the ground floor moments later. There were three vans waiting out front as well as Jim and Mark Fiore. He assisted with many things but usually provided special footage of the band to our fans. I grinned at him and gave a cheesy smile for the fans. That was all the energy I had left.


I threw my stuff in the very back of the van and sat in the middle row of seats. Jim closed the door behind me. I guess I was riding alone. The van pulled out of the valet pickup and left for the air port. Our drivers rarely made conversation.


"MIKE!"

"FUCK!"


Chester had jumped out and grabbed me. He was hiding in the backseat. I hit my head on the roof of the car when he yelled, hence the fuck.


The driver hadn't even reacted. Well damn.

Chester hopped the seat and landed beside me.


"I hate you."

"No you don't."


We got to the airport at around 12:25. We were supposed to leave in a half hour.


"Where the fuck is terminal G?" Chester wondered out loud.

"Hell if I know. it's too late for this shit."


"OW!" Chester bellowed, echoing throughout the airport. A small elderly woman with a cane had smacked him in the back of the head with it.


"Back in my day, men were gentlemen. They had respect. They didn't dare use that hideous language in the presence of a lady."


"You're absolutely right, we're so sorry, ma'am," I apologized, covering my mouth so as not to laugh.



She huffed at me and shook her cane at Chester before she waddled away, dragging her cane behind her.


Chester and I both looked at each other and burst out laughing, drawing annoying looks from those trying to sleep around us.


"That fucking hurt," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head.


The fact that he used the word that had just caused the whole incident made us laugh even more.


"Ugh, we really need to find this terminal."


We set off down the airport searching for our destination. There wasn't a bit of tension between us. It was perfect. What if it continued? Friends with benefits with my best friend...absolutely.


"Here it is," Chester sighed. It was already boarding.

"The guys better hurry up."


We showed them the goods: passports, tickets, further identification. At quarter-till one, we boarded the plane. Hardly anyone was riding.


We each ordered drinks, and they arrived shortly after with an attractive lady pushing the cart.


We clinked our glasses together.


"France, here we come."

"Cheers."


*****

This is a bit different than anything I usually write. Should it continue? Up to you guys. If so, I can guarantee more Bennoda to come. Hope you guys enjoyed !

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