It’s an hour or two after the show when there’s a quick knock at their hotel room door. Mike is the one to answer, Chester passed out almost as soon as they entered the room, the adrenaline crash after a show always left him a virtual zombie. A flower delivery greets Mike as he opens the door. There’s no one there, just a glass vase full of exotic looking flowers looking up at him from the floor. Mike takes it into the room and reads the note.

“Congratulations on being nominated for your first set of Grammy awards - Warner Brothers” it reads in overly fanciful cursive.

Mike smiles at the reminder. Just the other day they had gotten word that they had been nominated for not one, but three Grammys, and it was only their first album. It was hard to believe that a little over a year ago that they were struggling to even get signed by a record label and now here they are. He places the vase on the side table between his and Chester’s bed, the indigo pollen falling gently onto the table as the flowers rustle, with some pollen catching the air of the AC and landing across Chester’s face. He’s never seen flowers like this before, but it’s not like he keeps a book on flowers in his suitcase for those long hours on the tour bus. They smell amazing, and their blue and purple petals are breathtaking. He’d have to call Jeff Blue in the morning and thank him.

As he settles into his bed, he turns the tv on and manages to find a movie to fall asleep to. It’s during the second commercial break when he hears Chester let a soft moan out in his sleep. The singer is stretched out on top of his covers, he had been too exhausted to do little more than strip down to his boxers before collapsing onto the bed. His luggage had been lost by the airline yesterday and while they had promised that they were doing their best to locate it, it still hadn’t been found. Chester hadn’t been thrilled about having to spend what little cash he had on temporary clothing, and had opted on getting a cheap pack of T-shirt and boxers instead of a new wardrobe.

Out of the corner of Mike’s eye he sees his friend's hips jerk up, followed by another, louder moan. Looking over, his gaze caught sight of Chester’s erection straining through his underwear. While this was nothing new, it came with having to share a bus or hotel rooms with five other men, the frequency of his hip movements and increasingly loud moans was. His head is thrashing back and forth, his back is arching clear off the bed like he’s possessed, and his legs can’t seem to stay still.

Mike can’t take his eyes off Chester, who looks as if he’s having the best erotic dream of his life. He can feel himself growing hard under his bed sheets and he tries to make as little sound or movement as possible as he snakes a hand down his own boxers and begins to touch himself. He’d be lying if he’d said he hadn’t developed a small crush on Chester after all the time they had spent together perfecting their first album and touring, but that was all it could be. After all, Chester is married. On the constant verge of divorce, but married.

Chester’s breathing is now a full on pant and he’s both moaning and keening in the back of his throat. His fists are knotted in the sheets and Mike’s breathing is growing just as ragged as his strokes speed up. He’s starting to leak and he spreads the precum with his thumb over the head of his cock. Chester is thrusting into an invisible lover as he rocks into the air above him, with each whine going directly to Mike’s cock.

Chester’s eyes snap open and Mike goes stone still and attempts to control his too loud and uneven breathing and remove his hand from his pants without alerting his friend. Chester’s cheeks are flushed and a thin layer of sweat covers his skin and he looks like he just came off the stage. In a daze, the singer shoves his hands down the front of his boxers and with a shudder frantically starts to jerk himself off. It’s quick and rough and over in less than a minute and he orgasms with a strangled cry and the sight leaves Mike feeling like he just struck the fantasy jackpot and his throat dry as a desert.

“Fuck!” Chester says, his voice rough and raspy. He glances over and makes eye contact with Mike. “Wha- shit…did you - fuck I’m sorry Mike.” He‘s still panting as he catches sight of the flowers on the nightstand, his glazed over eyes widening at the blue and purple petals and indigo pollen. His hands are still down his underwear and are still moving up and down. “When did these flowers get here?” Mike tries to look away but he can’t.

“I dunno, like a half hour ago? Forty-five minutes tops? Warner Bros sent them as a congrats for the Grammy noms.” Chester looks panicked as he tries to move away from the vase, but it’s a difficult thing to do with no hands while touching yourself.

“Get them out! Put ‘em in the hallway! Please! Fuck where’s my backpack?” Chester winces as he arches his back off the bed again, he looks like he’s out of his mind with both arousal and pain.

“Okay geez gimme a sec, what’s going on?” Mike asks as he gets out of bed (and adjusts his semi, no need for Chester to know). He quickly puts the vase in the hallway and locates Chester’s backpack. “What d’ya need in here?”

“Medicine bottle. Red one.” Chester struggles to answer before crying out from another orgasm. “Fuck man hurry up it fucking hurts.” But despite reaching his peak twice in less than five minutes, Chester continues to stroke himself furiously, like it was the only way he could stay alive.

Mike looks through every nook and cranny, turning every pocket inside out, and eventually dumps all the bags’ contents onto Chester’s bed but there’s no medicine bottle, red or otherwise.

“It’s not here, it must be in your lost bag.” Mike says. Chester curses. “Dude, what is going on?”

Chester is quiet except for his labored breathing, his eyes unfocused as they look through Mike. Finally with a grimace, Chester answers,

“I’m sorry.”

And he reaches up and grabs Mike by his shirt collar and pulls Mike on top of him for the neediest, wettest, sloppiest kiss of Mike’s life. “Fuck I’m sorry, please don’t hate me.” He says after he pulls away from Mike’s lips and nuzzles himself into the crook of Mike’s neck, he’s practically purring like a cat, and his legs locking around Mike’s body on top of him like he was his only hope of salvation in a storm at sea. It’s like he’s trying to fuse their limbs together and meld into Mike and so long as he keeps nipping on Mike’s collarbone, he’s okay with that.

Mike should care that his seemingly straight friend is alternating between rubbing his face against Mike’s neck like a cat in heat and frantically locking their lips together, but after feeling Chester’s hardened erection rub itself against his own growing length, he can’t find himself to give many fucks at all.

“Shit I’m sorry, it - it just hurts fucking bad.” Chester whimpers as he starts to hump against Mike’s thigh, his eyes rolling back when the two cocks manage to rub against one another. Mike finally has enough clarity to place both his hands on either side of Chester’s face and forces the older man to look at him. His pupils are blown so wide that the brown is almost entirely gone and his bow shaped lips are pink and swollen.

“Ches I wanna help you but you gotta fill me in.” He says. Chester closes his eyes, it takes every ounce of willpower he has to form a coherent sentence.

“Allergies.” Is what he finally says and there’s no way that’s what’s going on. “I dunno the whole science behind it, but - fuck - I guess I’m one of like twenty people - god - in the world that gets a reaction like this with those flowers.” His hips are moving faster, his entire body is quivering and the poor singer looks increasingly more frustrated with every thrust. “Something about it fucks with my hormones or pheromones and makes my sex drive go from zero to a thousand and - oh god there - makes my nerves feel like they’re on fire and not in a sexy way and I stay there without the meds or ‘til enough time passed or I-.” One of his slim hands makes its way down Mike’s boxers and Chester shivers in relief.

Chester suddenly stops and looks at Mike in what appears to be a moment of rationale through the sex fueled fog that’s overtaken his mind. “I’m sorry,” he says, “but - fucking shit - I fucking need you. I can’t do it on my own, that just makes things worse and it already hurts like hell. And I’m not gonna be able to control myself much longer. Please.”

Well who was Mike to argue with that?

“Okay,” Mike says, his hips jerking upwards suddenly as Chester’s thumb rapidly started spreading the beads of precum around his tip. “What d’ya need me to do?”

Chester’s face is burrowing into the crook of his neck, inhaling Mike’s aroma and shuddering with every inhale. “Need to fuck, or get fucked. Losing control.” He finally says as his free hand desperately tries to remove Mike’s boxers. Mike manages to shimmy out of them and helps Chester remove his and the next thing he knows he’s on his back and Chester’s on top of him. Chester has both of them in one hand and he’s rubbing them together and the friction is almost too rough and yet it’s perfect and Mike is still coming to terms with the situation. Nothing in his wildest fantasies could ever come even remotely close to this.

“You got lube, right?” Mike asks and Chester inhales sharply through his teeth as he reaches behind him without looking and runs his hands wildly through the contents of his backpack still on the bed. He lets a shaking groan out when he finds his travel sized bottle of lube. And Chester applies a dollop onto Mike and hurriedly spreads it. “Ches I gotta stretch you.” Mike warns and Chester’s eyes are half open and his focus is a thousand miles away and Mike can see his eyes cloud over as he loses the last bit of control over himself as he fingers himself open close enough for Mike’s cock to feel Chester’s hole stretching.

And without warning he feels the tip of his dick pop through the still too tight rim and then he’s suddenly bottomed out on Mike and Chester is tight and warm and just slightly under lubricated but that doesn’t matter that much right now. Chester collapses on top of him in a full body shiver and emits a shaky moan that sounds like it came from his very bones.

“Oh fuck that feels better,” he mutters and Mike agrees. And just like that Chester is upright again with his palms braced on Mike’s chest and he’s rolling his hips slow then quick and Mike can hardly keep up. It’s like his hips have a mind of their own and are capable of moving separate from the rest of his body and god is it hot. He grabs hold of Chester’s hips and tries to match the gyrations with Chester’s increasing pace and it's when he moves his hips a little to the right that Chester’s eyes fly open and his nails dig into Mike’s chest. “Oh fuck!“ He shouts again, only it’s almost a muddled drunken slur and he's grinding with all he’s got to try and hit that spot again.

Mike is on fire, he’s sure of it. Chester’s insides are like a vice and drag just a little on his head and he’s too hot, Chester shouldn’t be this hot, both temperature wise and sexually, and now he’s bottomed out again and he’s not sure if he sees static because of how good it feels or because the tv remote fell and changed the channel to AUX.

And then Chester is cursing, “Fucking shit god fucking hell!” but Mike can barely understand it, it sounds like his tongue has gone numb and it doesn’t matter because he’s cumming and meager ropes of semen land on Mike's abdomen and that pushes Mike over the edge. Chester falls back on top of Mike and runs his hands through Mike’s hair. And despite giving Mike one of his best orgasms, Chester is still hard as a rock.

“You’re still hard?” He breathlessly asks out of reflex before his mind is done doing the math. Of course he’s still hard, Chester had cum twice before he had even considered riding Mike like a racehorse. Chester's eyes are still hazy and cloudy, it’s like he can’t even hear or register what Mike is saying or doing beyond chasing his next orgasm. He holds Chester close and kisses the top of his friends’ head, while Chester burrows his face into Mike’s neck. Chester tries to say something, but all his words come out as a mumbled incoherent mess. He’s acting on instinct now, a prisoner in his own sex addled mind.

Mike sympathizes with his friend, who still looks like he’s in some hell combination of horny and pained, until he feels an under lubricated finger prod his entrance. His hips jerk and he instinctively tightens in surprise.

“Holy shit you gotta give me more warning than - oh fuck!”

And there’s stars bursting in his eyes and he wishes he could be hard right now. Because every press sends fire into his veins and if he thought regular orgasms felt good, then Mike needs to know what one feels like with this. He’s touching something that’s never been touched before and Mike is starting to think that needs to change in the future. But all too quickly the finger is gone and Chester’s angry cock is pressing against his lips and then it’s in. He tastes salty and musky and slightly bitter with the dried cum and yet somehow it’s distinctly Chester. And Chester is too far gone and starts fucking his mouth with any regard as to whether Mike can handle it lost in his fogged mind. Mike feels his cock start to twitch back to life, perks of being in your early twenties, as Chester uses him and places a hand at Chester’s base to try and give his throat some relief. Chester is picking up speed and Mike can’t do much more than just leave his mouth open and let his drool leak out of his mouth. There’s something thrilling about being used like this, Mike decides as he moans around Chester.

And then Chester’s fingers entwine themselves through his spiked hair and that stirs something in him he didn’t know he had. Mike’s grip is getting slicker with the amount of saliva he’s dripping and going by Chester’s moans, he’s enjoying it. The singer is incapable of any lucid thought or speech it seems, all he can do is grunt and moan and Mike would be lying if he didn’t think it was hot. And Chester is losing control fast and even though Mike’s fist is acting as a sort of barrier, he’s still starting to graze the back of his throat and why is Mike enjoying the slight choking and the way his throat just barely closes around Chester’s tip?

And Chester’s grip on his hair is tightening and his hips pound into his face once, twice, four times, and each thrust shoots thin barely there amounts of cum down Mike’s throat. It’s bitter and yet somehow floral and Mike swears he sees a hint of recognition start to appear in Chester’s eyes. But he’s still hard and Mike is starting to wonder how much longer until he should consider taking Chester to a doctor. Those thoughts go out the window as soon as Chester is out of his mouth and his hand and those thin fingers who had just hours ago had been strumming a guitar in practice are back at his entrance.

Until tonight, nothing and no one had ever investigated his hole but the way Chester had discovered something that made his toes curl and legs spasm makes him eager to try more. It looks like Chester is still not all there mentally, given how the man looks like he’s lining himself up unlubricated and Mike unstretched, so Mike grabs Chester’s wrists and stops him. Chester writhe and jerks and he doesn’t like being restrained in his current state but Mike manages to flip them so now he’s the one on top.

“Gotta stretch and lube me up man.” He says as he pours a few drops onto Chester’s cock and fingers. He’s sure this time that he sees some clarity starting to dance across Chester’s eyes as the man underneath him circles his rim a few times before plunging one in. And it’s even better than the first time now and Mike is back as full mast as Chester teases that spot. “Oh fuck!” He shouts as he braces himself on Chester’s chest. It’s mesmerizing watching Chester’s wrists, with his blue flame tattoos that are rapidly reaching iconic status with their rising popularity, sneak behind and under him to stretch him out for something bigger. Chester adds a second finger and he already feels both too full, and yet he wants, no, needs more. “Ches-” he starts and like Chester reads his mind the fingers are gone and he’s somehow lifting Mike up and then gravity takes hold as Mike is impaled.

His breath leaves his lungs and his brain short circuits as he falls onto Chester’s chest. It’s like he’s being torn in two and it burns but it’s better than he ever imagined. With his forehead still resting on Chester’s sternum, he can look down and just barely see Chester enter him and the sight sends bolts down his limbs.

“Mike…” Chester mumbles, it’s the first understandable thing he’s been able to say in what feels like forever. His fingers are dug into Mike’s hips and it looks like he’s using whatever restraint he has to stop himself from rutting into Mike before he’s ready. Mike doesn’t know how he manages to sit up and send Chester deeper into him, but he does and he nods, but his head feels like it’s barely attached to his neck with how it rolls up and down.

Like the crack of a whip Chester’s hips thrust up into him and Mike swears he feels Chester go deeper than before, he didn’t think that was possible, while grazing whatever spot inside of him that sends fire and ice and electricity through his veins. And Mike doesn’t have the strength or the capabilities like Chester to roll his hips just right, but Chester seems like he knows what he’s doing. Each thrust digs Chester’s fingers into his hips and ass and lifts him up to slam him back on Chester’s cock and his breathing is already reduced to moans. It’s perfect and it can’t get much better and yet it does when Chester pulls out and flips Mike on his back and lifts his legs up until he’s bent in half and thrusts back into the emcee in one too smooth motion.

Mike’s knees are at his ears and he hasn’t bent anything close to this since his last day of gym in senior year and the pull of unused muscles hurts but it’s a good kind of hurt and the angle helps Chester go deeper and he’s no longer grazing that spot, he pushing it and it’s beyond perfect, it’s nirvana, it’s heaven.

“God Ches!” He shouts as one of Chester’s hands grabs hold of his aching cock and starts timing his rough movements with his strokes and a bomb could go off in the next room and kill them both and Mike would still die happy. His moans turn guttural as Chester finds the spot on his left side of his dick that makes his vision blur and he runs the tip of his finger just a little firmer there and the combination of that with whatever Chester keeps hitting inside him is euphoric. He knows that hotel walls are notoriously thin and that Rob and Brad are in the room to their left and Dave and Joe in the room to their right but it’s too good to keep quiet.

Waves are starting to come from his center, it’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before. His legs are quivering and turning to jelly, and he’s leaking everywhere. He doesn’t know how he knows that Chester needs to go harder but he does. “Harder,” he begs as he wraps his arms around his legs and holds them up for Chester. It’s almost embarrassing how much like a cheap slut he sounds and feels right now but it’s worth it as Chester picks up the pace. And with one well timed drag on his cock as Chester hits that spot inside of him perfectly, he’s chanting Chester’s name like a prayer as every fiber of Mike explodes and he cums harder than he ever thought possible and it’s the best orgasm of his life. He can feel himself pulse and clench around Chester as his limbs go limp and his mind goes numb. He’s overly sensitive and it’s amazing how Chester keeps going in and out of him like a man possessed. Mike’s thoroughly fucked out and his mind is overdosing on post orasgmic bliss and Chester is still going.

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh is filthy and it fills the too small room and it’s like a sauna now. That spot inside of him is practically vibrating from Chester’s cock, those waves of pleasure are back and Mike watches in amazement as milky white fluid leaks from his softened cock and pools on his abdomen as his lower half starts pulsing and twitching involuntarily. It’s like an orgasm but different and better and Chester’s hand moves from his limp dick and spreads it into his skin and he feels filthy and used and hotter than ever before.

And with a final show of strength that Mike never knew Chester had, he lifts Mike’s hips until his cock is hanging just inches away from his face and Mike considers trying to reach out with his tongue. He never has a chance as Chester screams and cums and collapses on top of Mike and he can truly feel Chester paint his insides.

Chester lays on top of him for a few minutes until it gets too hard for Mike to breathe.

“Ches I need you to move man, getting hard to breathe.” He mumbles and he’s pleasantly surprised that Chester not only listens to him, but that he feels Chester’s softened cock slide out of him as he rolls off. “Is it over?” Mike asks as his friend spoons into his side. He feels Chester nod into his chest.

“Fucking finally. I’m sorry about all this.” Chester says in a muffled voice, he’s trying to avoid Mike’s face. “I understand if you wanna kick me outta the band.”

Mike wraps his arms around Chester and holds him tight. “I’m not kicking you outta the band man,” he assures, “there’s no band without you, you hear me? It’s like you said, you lost control and it’s some weird allergy thing. Dave’s allergic to shellfish, you gonna be mad at him for that?” Chester shook his head ‘no’ into Mike’s side. “How’d you even find out about this allergy in the first place?”

“Senior prom. My boutonnière and my date’s corsage had them. After an hour I had to go to the hospital and stayed for days until they figured it out. Couldn’t even show my face at graduation, too embarrassed. Doctors had to drain blood from my dick twice the sadistic fucks. Only reason they even figured it out was because some nurse walked by on her first day and saw the flower still in my room and I guess her cousin has the same condition as me. That was the only time it’s happened ‘till now. I guess the longer I’m exposed to it the longer it lasts.” Chester yawns. “Man I’m fucking beat, d’ya mind if I fall asleep like this? You make a great pillow.” Mike smiles and rubs his bleached blonde spikes and kisses the top of Chester’s head.

The singer is snoring in minutes and Mike follows him into slumber not long after.

In the morning Mike showers and goes to the business center of the hotel before Chester wakes up and looks up the flowers to see if Chester was telling the truth or fucking with him. A quick google search informs him that Chester wasn’t just talking out of his ass. Himerosias Syringa, or the Corrupting Lilac. Apparently Ancient Romans had a similar relative that was more potent and affected almost all who smelled it. As a result, it became so popular among the Roman elite that it was farmed to extinction, leaving its sibling who affected one in a billion alone in the world.

Well shit, looks like he needs to visit a nursery when he gets back home. His apartment could use a plant to liven the place up.

*****

So I recently joined the fanfiction subreddit and someone inspired me to crank this out in three/four days. Thanks u/Savage_Nymph