Category Linkin Park

Handkerchiefs by lpfan503

A/N: I was supposed to be writing Secrets today, but Penelope_Ink sent me a picture of Chester this morning, and all hell broke loose in my head. Enjoy the smut that came from this photo.


[sometime during the making of A Thousand Suns…]

“I can’t believe they don’t know that we know,” Brad mumbled quietly as he tuned his guitar, glancing over at Dave, who had just zeroed in on their vocalists late arrival at the studio.

Chester looked ready to rock the stage, not put in eight grueling hours in the studio. He was dressed head to toe in black. Black skinny jeans, black t-shirt, black combats, black leather jacket, black sunglasses. The white and green Starbucks cup in his right hand was a sharp contrast to the rest of his appearance. That, and the handkerchief that was trailing from his back left pocket.

“Gray, huh? I can’t remember which one that is,” Dave answered absently, his coffee cup in one hand as he scratched his beard with the other. “Joe!” he called, waiting for the deejay to catch his eye. “C’mere.”

Joe crossed the studio floor, fist bumping Chester in acknowledgement as he passed the latecomer. “Mike’s been losing his mind over you being late. Hope you’re ready for the wrath of Shinoda.”

Chester snorted as he took off his sunglasses, his eyes almost glittering black in the dim light. “Don’t worry, Hahn, I’m ready for him today.”

His eye drifted over to the console, where Mike was hunched over the controls, fidgeting with the button on the cuff of his purple plaid flannel, his long bangs falling across his forehead in a way Chester found incredibly appealing. Rob was next to him, quietly offering suggestions Chester couldn’t hear, when Mike glanced up, his deep eyes coming to rest immediately on the vocalist.

“Nice to see you made it in, finally,” he barked out, his voice harsher than he’d intended.

“Mmmm,” Chester hummed in return, his thin lips curling into a bit of a smile before he took a sip of his coffee. “I had trouble deciding what color to wear today, Mikey. Some things can’t be rushed,” he said smoothly, watching his words settle over the emcee and recognition dawn in his tired eyes.

“Color.” Mike repeated, his eye squinting as he looked at Chester. He raked his eyes over the all black attire, and was about to make a sarcastic comment about the absolute lack of color his lover had on, but then he caught sight of the gray handkerchief peeking from Chester’s back pocket. Instantly he felt the blood rush to his cock. He knew what that meant. He knew that the bossier he was in the studio this afternoon, the more he’d pay for it later.

And Mike couldn’t wait for it to be later.

Rob looked back and forth between the two frontmen, at Chester’s devilish grin and Mike’s awestruck gaze, and rolled his eyes as he stood up. “I’m gonna go make sure I’ve got my stuff set up,” he offered in their direction, but the pair barely heard him.

“Yeah,” Mike responded as an afterthought, his eyes locked into the challenge with Chester.

“It’s going to be an interesting day,” Rob said as he joined the rest of the band on the other side of the studio. “What are you looking at?” he motioned to the iPhone in Joe’s hand that his three bandmates were crammed around.

“Interesting for sure,” Joe smirked. “Gray is bondage,” he whispered, looking up and around the circle of his bandmates.

“Of course it is,” Brad said lowly. “Mike’s been pissing him off all week with his extra-bossiness. Now that Tal’s out of town, he’s letting Mike know who’s really the boss.”

The four guys tried to hold their laughter in and not alert Chester and Mike to their conversation. For years they had watched the power shift between their two frontmen, who clearly thought they were being clever with their handkerchiefs. Admittedly, it had taken a while for them to catch on to there being something a little more between Mike and Chester. It had been Joe who finally put together the occasional appearance of the colored handkerchiefs they would let dangle from their back pockets, or tie around their wrists, and their barely concealed love affair.

When they tore it all apart and analyzed it, the rest of the band found it easy to see that Mike and Chester were screwing around on the side. The handkerchiefs were just the tipping point of all the evidence that pointed in that direction. As long as it didn’t affect the band, though, they’d all agreed to be in on the little secret, as amusing as it was to watch the vocalists dance around each other, thinking no one the wiser.

The whole handkerchief concept had become a secret topic of conversation among the guys, and they had never alerted the pair that their secret wasn’t as hidden as they thought.

“Chester,” Mike said, his eyes on the gray handkerchief, “you know we’re supposed to be recording group vocals today. We couldn’t start without you.” He slid his eyes slowly, lustfully up Chester’s jacket and bit down on his bottom lip. “You ready to get started?”

“I’m ready.” Chester smiled wickedly. “I hate to keep you waiting.” With that, he turned, giving Mike a full view of his ass in his tight black jeans, knowing that the emcee’s eyes were following him as he walked away.

He’ll never admit it, but he loves it when I tie him up. Chester thought as he entered the vocal booth.

It was eight hours of Mike barking directions as Chester plotted their evening.

“No, do it again, that’s not good enough.”

I’ll show you good enough.

“Scream louder, Chester, you don’t sound… tortured enough.”

I know just how to torture you so good, baby.

“No, move that note up, not down. Do it again.”

Again? Yes, I’ll have you begging for me to do you again.

“Sound more panicked, Chester. Again.”




Chester’s eyes glittered from inside the vocal booth, every again adding fuel to his desires.


Hours later, Mike looked down at the text message one last time, though he’d read it enough to have it memorized.

Park in the garage. Come in the back door. Go straight to our room.

He shifted a little in the seat of his Mercedes SUV, feeling his cock twitching to life as he pressed the button on the extra garage door opener Chester had smuggled him years ago. No matter how many secret trysts they had at this house, it always felt as naughty and exciting as the first time. Only the fact that this was Chester’s second home made hiding their lustful relationship so much easier. He briefly wondered if Anna ever suspected the nights he was staying in the studio he was really spending with Chester, but he didn’t linger on those thoughts long. This was just an outlet, a kink, it wasn’t an affair. It was too infrequent to be called an affair.

He pressed the button again to close the garage door and stepped out of the car, running his hand over his damp hair. It was one of the rules between them - showers first - and there was never a point to fixing his hair before they got dirty. Besides, he happened to know that Chester got off on his longer hair, the way it hid his eyes and the way he could grab it as Mike sucked him off.

Mike licked his lips, thinking of Chester’s cock in his mouth, as he stepped inside the back door. It was eerily quiet in the house, and Mike could hear his heart beating in his ears. Chester wasn’t playing around today. He knew he’d been riding his ass in the studio all week, and it was bound to come out somehow, but Mike hadn’t realized he’d pushed Chester far enough for the handkerchiefs to come out to play. It was a definite signal that the vocalist had had enough. He wasn’t going to let Mike off with some rough sex against the wall this time. Tonight was going to be something more.

With his heartbeats getting faster by the second, Mike crept up the stairs without even turning on the light. He knew this route by heart, he could navigate his way to the spare bedroom he and Chester shared blindfolded. Mike smiled. He had, in fact, walked both blindfolded and naked through this house once before.

The only light on in the house was glowing gently from the last bedroom door at the end of the hallway on the opposite end of the house from the room Chester and Talinda shared. That was another rule - no sex in the master bedroom. Mike wiped his palms on his jeans as he made his way down the hallway, his palms sweating a little. That gray handkerchief had taunted him all day, letting him know he was going to be giving up control tonight, and he was a little nervous. Not because he didn’t trust Chester; on the contrary, he was nervous because he trusted him implicitly. He trusted him enough to let go.

He stopped as soon as he walked into their bedroom. The lamp was the main source of light in the room, and he could see Chester had wasted no time making things the way he wanted them for the evening.

Black satin sheets on the four poster bed. Restraints already tied to the posts, two lit candles on the bedside table. Black leather accessories. A blindfold.

Mike sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm his excitement a little. He didn’t want Chester to know how turned on his already was, how he was ready for whatever was coming. How he was ready to shut off his mind and just take whatever pleasure Chester was ready to give.

The hairs on his arms stood up when he suddenly felt Chester behind him, sliding his hands around Mike’s waist as he put his lips to Mike’s ear. “You made it,” he whispered, his breath warm against Mike’s skin.

“I told you I would,” Mike responded, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned his head back to rest against Chester’s. He felt Chester’s fingers flexing against his hips, but the absence of Chester’s body against his made him squirm in anticipation. “Looks like you’re ready to go,” he chuckled softly as Chester dragged his lips softly down his neck, barely making contact with his skin.

“You have no idea,” Chester growled, pulling Mike’s ass toward him, planting his erection directly between the plump cheeks and biting down on Mike’s neck suddenly.

Mike couldn’t help the whimper that escaped his throat as Chester’s teeth pulled on his skin. “Ches, careful.”

“I know we’re not on tour. I won’t leave any marks.” Chester licked the temporary mark on Mike’s neck, then whispered, “you want a safe word tonight?”

“Do I need one?” Mike countered, his voice steady.

“Up to you,” Chester said smoothly as he let go of Mike’s hips and stepped away. “Close your eyes,” he commanded, his voice dropping lower. He stepped toward the bed and picked up the blindfold, watching Mike’s face as it slid into peaceful submission. “Ready?” he asked, and smiled as Mike nodded.

Mike felt Chester moving around him, and a shiver ran along his spine. He was definitely ready. The stress of this album left him wanting an excuse to let go, and luckily that feeling coincided with Chester’s desire to regain some control in their dynamic. He leaned his head back to give Chester better access as he tied the thick black blindfold behind his head.

The darkness was an instant signal that the game had begun.

“You’ve been very, very bossy this week, Mikey. Commanding. Have you been enjoying telling me what to do?” Chester circled back around to stand in front of Mike, fisting his shirt and pulling him close.

Mike could feel Chester’s breath on his lips, smell the mint in his toothpaste. “You needed the direction, Chester,” he answered boldly, confidently. “I’ve just been keeping you on track.”

“Mmmm,” Chester said. “You get off on telling me what to do, don’t you?” He pulled on Mike’s shirt with one hand as he reached to press his other hand to Mike’s erection. “Yes, you do. You enjoy telling me what to do. I can tell.” He smiled at the low moan emanating from Mike’s throat. “But tonight, I’m in charge.”

Letting go of Mike’s shirt, he hooked his fingers through Mike’s belt loops and tugged him toward the bed. “Let’s go, Mikey. Over here.” Chester maneuvered him over to the bed, pushing the backs of his thighs against the mattress. “Take your shirt off.”

Chester stepped back and watched as Mike slowly moved his fingers, unbuttoning and dropping the crisp white dress shirt to the floor. As he went to remove his t-shirt, Chester stopped him. “Wait. Are you attached to that shirt, Mikey?”

Mike stopped, then shook his head. “Not really.”

“Then leave it on,” Chestier said. “Let me help you with those pants.” He stepped forward and unbuckled his belt, slipping it out of the belt loops. With a glint in his eyes, he folded the belt over and smacked Mike’s thigh with it, watching the shock roll over Mike’s face with joy. “Ooh, you like that, baby?” Mike nodded his head and then gasped as the belt caught him again. “I might just keep this handy.”

Chester yanked on the button of Mike’s jeans, then unzipped them. “Step out,” he said, and watched as Mike lowered his pants to reveal a pair of boxers Chester had purchased for occasions such as tonight. They were simple, black and gray plaid cotton shorts, underwear that wouldn’t be missed if it got ruined. Chester smiled, his teeth gleaming in the candlelight. “I see you got the message today.”

Mike reached to palm himself through the boxers as he said, “yeah. Loud and clear.”

“Hands off, baby,” Chester instructed, stepping closer and moving MIke’s hand away from pleasuring himself. “That’s all mine tonight. Get on the bed,” he said, and watched as Mike bit down on his bottom lip again, scooting his ass up onto the mattress and waiting. That’s so fuckin’ sexy. “Lay down.”

With a sigh, Mike stretched himself out on the bed, his heart fluttering in his stomach. He knew Chester was going to tie him up, but it still came as a surprise to feel the thick leather cuffs being buckled around his wrists. “These new?” he asked, feeling the furry insides of the cuffs against his skin.

“Yeah,” Chester answered, his mind tasked on buckling the other silver studded black cuff to Mike’s wrist. “I saw them a few weeks back and it made me think of the bracelets we used to wear back in our Hybrid Theory days. I had to get them.”

Mike smiled. “I don’t know where you hide all this stuff, Ches,” he breathed, twisting his hands as Chester lifted his wrists over his head.

“Don’t worry about it. Tal will never find our stash.” He stretched Mike’s right arm over his head and tied the strap to the headboard post. “Too tight?”

“No,” Mike breathed as Chester lifted his left arm, tying it into place as well.

“Good,” Chester answered. He sat back and looked at Mike, his perfect, smooth body splayed over the slippery sheets, and smiled. “I’ve got something else for you,” he whispered, sliding his fingers over Mike’s neck. It was satisfying to hear the emcee’s breath hitch in his throat as he slid the spiked black leather collar around his lover’s neck. He gave it just a finger’s width of space as he tightened it and slid the buckle into place. “Oh, that’s so sexy, baby,” he cooed seductively. “I’m going to tear you up tonight.”

He watched Mike swallow against the collar, delighting at how it tightened before he rasped out, “aardvark. The safe word is aardvark.”

“Now, now, Mikey, getting nervous? You know you won’t need that, baby. I…” Chester paused, looking down at Mike on the bed. Rule three - never say I love you. It would just complicate things and make this more than a kinky game they got off to on occasion. “I would never hurt you,” he settled for whispering, running his fingertips lightly down Mike’s t-shirt, circling and rubbing one of his nipples though the thin fabric.

“Ahhh, Ches, that feels good,” Mike moaned lightly, turning his head to the side, his neck straining against the collar. He loved it when they had time for Chester to tease him mercilessly. He wouldn’t admit to it, but he also loved being on bottom. Loved that they were comfortable enough with each other to switch things up- keeping each other on their toes was hot.

“Yeah, you look good.” Chester leaned over, his face close to Mike’s as his fingers slid around the waistband of the thin boxers. “I can’t wait to punish you a little. Now… I have a choice for you to make. Choose wisely, this is a two part question.”

Mike nodded obediently as he tried to move his hips to get Chester’s hand to go lower.

Chester clucked his tongue in disapproval. “Be still,” he said, sternly, and Mike instantly froze on the sheets. “Question one: do you really want that safe word, or do you want me to gag you?” He dipped one finger down lower, grazing the head of Mike’s dick teasingly, feeling the sticky precum that was already flowing freely.

“Ahhh, Ches,” Mike whined, trying to get more contact from Chester’s hand.

With a loud smack, Chester popped his palm against Mike’s hip. “I told you to lay still,” he growled. “Now, safe word or gag? Which is it?”

Mike twisted his head the other direction on the mattress, and Chester followed the way his hair moved, feathering down over the blindfold. “Gag me, gag me, Ches,” he gasped after Chester spanked him.

“Mmm-hmm,” Chester hummed, still tickling Mike’s leaking head. “Question two: the real gag? Or my handkerchief?”

There wasn’t even a second’s hesitation. “The handkerchief,” Mike moaned, then blew out a frustrated breath as Chester’s fingers left him.

Chester flicked his tongue out and tasted the glistening liquid on his finger. “Oh, God, Mikey, you taste delicious,” he said, satisfied to hear another whimper from his lover as he reached for the gray handkerchief he’d been wearing in the studio that day. “Lift your head, baby,” he instructed, and quickly tied the gag in place. “That okay? You can breathe?” Chester asked, his lips running over Mike’s cheek.

Mike nodded his head. He was at Chester’s mercy now, blindfolded, gagged, and bound. The thin cotton of the boxers was clinging to him, the wet spot growing the more aroused he became. And they were just getting started.

He felt Chester slide off the bed, and then the unmistakeable sound of his lover discarding all his clothes, then silence. Mike strained his ears to hear what Chester was doing, but his naked body made no sound. After a few tantalizing seconds, he felt the mattress dip and Chester back at his side.

Chester raked his hands down Mike’s shirt, pulling at the fabric, teasing his nipples before running a hand underneath and across his stomach. Mike tried to hold still as slender fingers roamed his skin, caressing him gently as Chester avoided any other contact with his body. He was just relaxing into the sweetness of Chester’s touch when he felt something cool, something metal against his skin.

“Know what that is?” Chester asked, pressing down into Mike’s stomach. He watched Mike shake his head no, then flipped his wrist, the point of the knife catching Mike’s shirt. “It’s how these clothes are coming off,” he whispered, pulling up and slicing up the front of the t-shirt, trailing the handle over Mike’s skin as he cut from bottom to top. As he spread the two pieces of cloth to the side and moved to straddle Mike’s hips, Chester lay the knife right between his nipples. “You’re so fuckin’ hot,” Chester said, lightly dragging his nails down Mike’s skin, watching as the emcee jumped under his touch. “Now, Mikey, you know better than to move. I don’t want to hurt you when I take these shorts off.”

He watched the rise and fall of Mike’s chest as his breathing became faster. It was a beautiful sight to Chester’s eyes, knowing he was getting under Mike’s cool exterior. There was nothing that turned Chester on quite like Mike Shinoda giving up control in the bedroom.

Mike felt him move again, and a moment later, Chester’s mouth closed over one of his nipples as he ground his hips down into Mike’s erection. “Mmmm,” he moaned from behind the handkerchief. He pulled against the restraints, the veins in his forearms popping as he tried to lower his hands. He wanted to feel Chester’s hair between his fingers, but it wasn’t going to happen tonight. It wasn’t about what he wanted. All week in the studio had been about what he wanted. Tonight was about what Chester wanted.

Chester smiled, biting down on the nipple hard, scraping his fingers along Mike’s side and relishing the way his body shifted underneath him. He teased Mike a little bit more, before reaching across the bed. “I want to make you crazy,” he murmured before stroking the feather end of the contraption down Mike’s chest and causing him to squirm again. “Hold still, Mikey,” he ordered, then slapped the flat end against Mike’s side.

He looked down to see a light red mark on Mike’s ribs, and he smiled as the writhing came to a stop, Mike breathing heavily. “Every time you move, every time you strain against those cuffs, I’m going to whip you,” Chester breathed across Mike’s erect nipples, licking each one slowly before blowing lightly on them. His eyes lit on the knife still on Mike’s chest, and he picked it up, sliding the smooth blade across the heated skin. “Careful, now, baby. I’m taking these off,” Chester said, sitting back on his heels and reaching for the waistband of the boxers.

“You want to be very, very still,” Chester murmured as he trailed the knife down Mike’s stomach, scraping the point gently along his skin before he caught the fabric and began ripping it open.

Mike lay still, his breaths harsh behind the gag, as Chester methodically cut both legs of the shorts open. He never understood this part, and why it turned the vocalist on, but he knew better than to squirm when he was blind to how close the knife was to his private area. He felt Chester lean to the side, heard the knife clatter to the top of the nightstand, and breathed a sigh of relief. The really dangerous part was over.

As soon as that thought crossed his mind, he felt the feather skimming over his cock, tickling his ball sack underneath before stroking upwards again. He wanted to curse at Chester, to tell him to hurry the fuck up and stop teasing, but he wasn’t the one in control tonight. He’d given every ounce of that control to his lover, and he was silent behind the gag.

“You want to talk, don’t you, Mikey?” Chester teased, rubbing Mike’s exposed thigh with some degree of pressure as he moved the feathered end of the whip over his erection. “You want to tell me to hurry the fuck up, and let you come. But you forget, we aren’t at work, are we, baby?” He flicked his eyes up in time to see Mike shake his head no. “It’s hard for you to give up the control to me, but I’ll see that you enjoy it, I always do.”

Chester smacked the whip lightly across Mike’s dick and smiled as he jumped, pulling on the wrist restraints. “Oh, you want more?” Another whip, more straining against the restraints. “Maybe you’ll be nicer in the studio tomorrow, hmmm?”

With the whip still in his hands, Chester settled between Mike’s thighs, running his hands along the soft dark hair and spreading Mike open for him. “God, baby, you look amazing. It’s been too long, hasn’t it? I can’t even remember the last time I had you like this. Can you?” He tickled the feather right against Mike’s puckered entrance, watching his hips shoot off the bed. “Even if you can remember, you can’t say anything. It must be… So. Hard.” Chester teased as he reached out to whip across Mike’s stomach. “You just can’t be still, can you?”

A low moan was the only response from Mike, and Chester knew he was loving it. His rock-hard cock proved it was true. Chester reached for him, sliding his hand down the emcee’s length and listening to the deep moan of approval from his lover. “Yeah, I know you love it when I touch you. You look so good, laying there, Mikey, fuck. I’m gonna make you come for me, but I don’t want you to move. Hmmm… I think I need to tie down your ankles too.”

Mike tossed his head side to side, silently saying no, but Chester knew better. “Don’t argue with me,” he said sternly, applying the whip to the sensitive inside of Mike’s thigh, watching his lover catch a sharp breath through his nose. Another drag of the whip, and Mike’s hips came off the bed again as his heels dug into the mattress. “See? You can’t stay still. I can’t have that.”

Flipping around, Chester made quick work of tying Mike’s ankles to the bedposts, spreading him open and rendering him unable to do anything but writhe under Chester’s touches, caresses, whippings. “Now, let’s get down to it. You’ll come when I say you can,” Chester said, his voice thick with arousal.

Mike lay helpless on the sheets, and Chester soaked in the sight of his skin against the black satin as he popped open the lube and spread it generously on his fingers. Without a word, he slid his middle finger inside Mike’s exposed opening, not hesitating, not inching in, but all the way in at once, loving the twitch of Mike’s legs against the restraints. Loving the way he threw his neck back and the collar pressed against his Adam’s apple, the way his breaths labored around the handkerchief.

Those damn handkerchiefs that had started this all so many years ago, when Chester decided to see if Mike knew what they meant. He’d started subtly, wrapping a navy blue one around the wrist that held his mic, screaming into it night after night as he undressed Mike with his eyes. Then he’d moved it to his left pocket, and the very next night, Mike came on stage with a navy blue one in his right pocket. That was how it had all started, in the quiet backstage dressing room, their first release of their secret sexual desire for each other. They had kept it fresh through the years, switching up who bottomed and what they were doing, but always the same colors: navy and light blue, gray, and black. Hardly ever black, but those two times were cherished memories in both their minds.

Chester looked away from the gray handkerchief and watched as he slid another finger inside his lover, as Mike’s legs pulled on their restraints, as his unattended cock dripped onto his stomach. He couldn’t wait any longer, and leaning forward, he knelt over Mike and lapped up that tantalizing wet spot before he licked slowly down his shaft, teasing him more. Licks, kisses, all around the swollen head before Chester took Mike slowly into his mouth, sinking down the hard flesh as he pressed his fingers inside deeper, seeking that secret special place that would unravel him.

He could feel the precum dripping from his own arousal as Mike moaned around the gag, and Chester didn’t let up, sliding his mouth up and down Mike’s cock as his lover’s knees shook. Mike was close already, he could tell, and Chester wiggled his fingers just a bit more, curling them upwards and tickling Mike’s prostate, feeling the jolt from Mike’s strung out body as he nailed the spot. It was enough that Chester let him slide out of his mouth with a wet pop, his dick slapping against his stomach, causing Mike to groan in displeasure and impatience.

“Too much, Mikey? You’re trying to move again,” Chester whispered, watching his lover squirm as he pressed into his prostate again. “Do you want to come, baby?”

Mike nodded frantically, pulling his wrists against the restraints, his hips straining to move as Chester fingered him. “It’s not time, yet, no… I’m not ready for you to come,” he whispered, slowly pulling his fingers out before laying between Mike’s outstretched legs. “I’m going to untie your legs first, and then I’m going to untie your wrists… but only so you can turn around. You’ll follow my directions, right, baby?” He licked across Mike’s stomach and felt the muscles clench.

“Good,” he whispered, sliding down to untie Mike’s ankles. He reached to untie Mike’s wrists and watched as his lover immediately went to rub the plates where the restraints had pulled against his sensitive artist’s hands. “No, no,” Chester admonished, “no time for that. Up on your knees, baby, get your hands on the headboard.”

He pulled Mike up, holding their naked bodies together for a moment as he bit and sucked his way down Mike’s throat until he reached the collar. “I can’t wait to pull on this,” Chester mumbled, and Mike whimpered around the handkerchief. “Turn around,” he commanded, turning Mike and pushing him toward the headboard. “Hands up.”

Mike complied silently, allowing Chester to tie his cuffs back to the bed. He’d been so close to release when Chester had stopped, and it was driving him crazy. After all these years, Chester had learned exactly how to make him come hard, and he was desperate for it, leaning his head forward until the collar caught his throat as his secret lover licked and kissed down his spine. Right at the end of the loving trail of kisses, Chester applied a sharp smack of his palm to Mike’s ass, and he shuddered, his head hanging lower until a spike from the collar poked his collarbone and he jumped, a low moan coming from his throat.

“What’s that? More?” Chester asked, smacking him again. It was right on the fine line between pain and pleasure, years of practice giving Chester the knowledge of how much was too much for Mike to take. As Mike sucked in another breath, Chester slid behind him, spreading lube and precum over himself. “I’ll give you what you really want, what I really want, what I wanted to do all week when you were telling me it wasn’t good enough. Let’s see if this is good enough.”

He slid inside Mike in one thrust, an easy thrust whose way was prepared by his own fingers, and heard Mike’s groan mix with his own cry of pleasure. He’d teased Mike enough; now it was time to give them both what they wanted.

Chester dropped kisses on Mike’s shoulders, his back, as he thrust in and out, one hand on Mike’s hip and the other twined in his hair, pulling his head back. He could look up and see the veins in Mike’s arms as they pulled on the restraints, the thick black leather with the buckles a sight Chester adored seeing on his lover. When he let go of Mike’s hair he tugged lightly on the collar, not enough to hurt but with enough pressure to be exhilarating, and Chester’s excitement increased with every labored breath from the man he was fucking. Rule four: it was always fucking, never making love.

Their climaxes were simultaneous, another skill they had developed over the years, Mike coming untouched and Chester losing himself inside Mike, and afterward for minutes they leaned against the headboard, Mike panting rapidly around the gag and Chester trying to calm his heartbeats before he reached up and gently untied the handkerchief, letting it fall into Mike’s cum on the bedsheets.

As soon as his mouth was free, Mike turned his head, greedily seeking Chester’s lips, not to be disappointed as Chester’s hot kisses consumed him. Those post-sex kisses always said what they could not say aloud - fuck the rules, if only things were different, if only they could revel in this carnal pleasure they knew how to achieve together… if only they could declare the love they both knew simmered under the surface of their secret sexy games.

Silently, Chester untied Mike’s wrists, then unbuckled each cuff, gently kissing the skin underneath before he unbuckled the collar and threw it to the floor. The blindfold was last, and Chester couldn’t help the swell of emotion that overcame him as soon as he met Mike’s deep chocolate eyes. Eyes that were vulnerable, eyes that trusted, eyes that shone with the afterglow of post-coital satisfaction.

Their lips met again, this time gently as Mike’s arms circled Chester’s back, holding him close and feeling over his warm skin for the first time that night. He sighed in satisfaction as their kiss broke, and he buried his face in Chester’s neck.

“Thank you,” he said simply, the smile creeping into his voice.

“My pleasure, baby,” Chester whispered back. “How are you feeling about the album, now?” he asked teasingly.

Without missing a beat, Mike squeezed Chester close as he whispered back, “I’m just sorry this album is almost finished. Seems like you like being bossed around a little bit, Ches.”

“As much as you like giving up that control, baby. I can always fuck up a few more lines tomorrow if you’d like.” Chester dropped his lips to Mike’s sweaty temple, kissing the long black bangs that were stuck there.

Mike smiled, his hands roaming over Chester’s back as he whispered, “I guess that means I better decide what handkerchief to wear with my jeans tomorrow.”


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