Category Linkin Park

The Corridor by Duchess

A/N: first fic involving GC! Could quite let go of Chester yet though…Originally Billy/Benji, but Chazzy Chaz was feeling left out.

Disc: Don’t know ‘em, don’t own ‘em. If I did I wouldn’t be just writing it.

As the next award was announced, Chester felt his eyes drift slowly across the large hall. He had been in the huge place with his band mates for what seemed like forever, but in reality it had probably only been a few hours. He didn’t know whether he really liked award shows yet. Getting recognition for their work was an amazing feeling, and he felt proud whenever they did, but having to listen to endless starlets and whining rock stars drone on into the mic for hours on end made even the winning of awards hard to bear.

His gaze drifted over the many tables set up on the balconies of the hall, each table holding one or many bands and other celebrities all waiting to see if they would be the ones walking up onto the stage that night.

He saw Eminem a few tables back. He’d chatted with the man for a few seconds at the bar, and despite the tough guy image, found that Marshall Mathers wasn’t actually that scary once you get past the scowl. The seating arrangements had obviously not been designed by a fan of Slim Shady, as he was sitting on the same table as, not only his producer Dre, but Christina Aguilara and Moby, both of which he was studiously ignoring. ‘And I thought I had problems’ Chester thought and looked forward.

In front of them was, amazingly enough, Ozzy Osborne and his family. They had all met the legend himself whilst playing at the Oz Fest a few years previously, and Chester found him to be a pretty cool guy, even if he was a little weird to say the least.

Finally he looked right. He had tried looking behind him by sinking low in his chair and tipping his head over the back of the head rest, but he had only got a glimpse of Brittany Spear’s bare leg when Brad had soundly thwacked him in the stomach and told him to behave. Sometimes it felt like he was touring with his mother.

Chester was surprised to find the Good Charlotte boys seated to their right. He hadn’t seen them on his way back from the bar about half an hour ago, so he concluded that they either snuck in unnoticed, or he had been really rude and just walked right past them. He remembered them from a hotel in Australia on Linkin Parks last tour. Both bands were staying at the same hotel on a crossover on their tours – Linkin Park was just leaving the area, whilst GC was coming in to perform at the huge Brisbane concert hall.

Chester had been in the bar with Rob. Temperatures were running high upstairs, and he’d just had a fight with Mike; something he avoided if at all possible. Mike was his best friend, and the one person that he really didn’t want mad at him. It hadn’t been possible that night though, because everyone was just too fucking tired, and they all had to be up at some godforsaken time in the morning to catch a flight to their next destination.

Rob had been bitching about Joe, a regular occurrence every time he roomed with the hyper DJ, when they had walked in, Chester’s gaze had started to wander around the expensively furnished room, while he let Robs voice lull him into a state of relaxation. The movement of the door had caught his eyes, and the mahogany and glass panels swung open to reveal a very tired, very jetlagged, very familiar man. Early twenties, short, dark hair and a quiet, open face, Chester struggled for a few seconds to place him, but it wasn’t long before he did. Joel Madden. Good Charlotte.

Joel was quickly followed by his twin, and it struck Chester then how different they were, even though they were identical. They both had similar mannerisms as they sat down at the almost empty bar to order drinks, the same hand movements when they talked, but Benji seemed so much more relaxed. His walk was more of a loose gait than Joel’s, and his shoulders seemed so much more relaxed.

Chester noticed that Rob had stopped talking and was looking at him, almost expectantly. Oops, what the hell had he just said?

“I’m really sorry, dude, I think I just spaced. What did you say?” the drummer’s mouth curved up into a sly smile, the one the singer never trusted on him. The one that he had seen just before the younger man hide all his clothes when he was in the shower, so he had to wander round the bus in just a towel before he could find his damned suitcase.

“Don’t worry, I would have spaced too if I’d have seen them first.” Rob said. Chester looked at him in confusion for a second “The guys at the bar. Those twins are fucking hot!” Chester honestly hadn’t thought about it, which showed just how tired he was, considering he though about sex practically all the time. Once he had thought about it, however, he had to agree that they were hot. Not his type, really, but hot none the less. Nodding his agreement, Chester had announced that he was going to piss, and made his way quickly to the bathroom, bypassing the bar on his way to afford a better view of the pierced twin, wondering exactly how those many lip piercings would feel against his own.

He stepped out of the bathroom with some disappointment, when he saw the bar was empty, the two men that had been occupying the high seats gone. That is until he had seen his and Robs table. It was typical of Rob; the man could make friends wherever he went at the drop of a hat, a talent Chester admired greatly. His band mate had obviously invited the twins to sit at their table, not that Chester minded, he was all up for meeting new people, and good conversation would be a welcome distraction from his thoughts of Mike.

Just as he went to sit down, he realised another person was sitting in his seat, sipping on a glass containing dark liquid. The seat-snatcher had dark hair, partly obscuring his face as he lent down to place his glass on the wooden table. Strong jaw was obvious, and despite his obvious height, he didn’t seem to take up any space at all. Seat snatcher looked up suddenly, just noticing the tall figure standing over him, and Chester found himself drowning in huge blue eyes.

“Sorry, dude, am I in your chair?” He asked softly, eyes widening further as he made to stand up again.

“Nah,” Chaz said, waving the young man back down again, and grabbing another chair from the table just next to theirs. He reached over and grabbed his beer, annoyed that has hands shook slightly, and the other man flushed slightly, high cheekbones stained a delicate pink. Huge blue eyes peered out from under his long black bangs as he ducked his head in embarrassment, and Chester sent the nervous young man an encouraging smile, holding his handout to be shaken.

“I’m Chester.” He said, and smiled again when his hand was taken, the other mans grip firm in his, hands surprisingly large for one so slender.

“Billy.” He said, and smiled hesitantly. They had stayed in the bar, just talking with the younger men, until it was time for Chester and Robs flight. They exchanged email addresses, and still kept in touch occasionally.

A sharp elbow dug into Chester side, and he swung his head back round, glaring at Brad who was sitting on his other side.

“Pay attention, they’re gonna announce the next award.” The guitarist hissed, and Chester sighed again, a whispered ‘yes, mom’ leaving his lips and earning a low chuckle from Mike on one side, and a glare from Brad on the other.

Chester huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and looking back over at the other table, observing the reactions of the others. Benji looked as bored as he felt, the guy was doodling on a piece of scrap paper, playing with his lip studs unobtrusively, probably trying his best to be good and not do anything to show up his band mates. It didn’t always work, but Chaz had to give him points for trying; Joel did keep his brother on quite a tight leash, and sometimes Benji played out in self-defence.

Actually, come to think of it, Joel didn’t look that good either, his eyes were firmly fixed on his brothers doodles, a small frown on his brow, as if he was trying to work out what the hell the drawings were. Or maybe just Benji's handwriting. Paul was keeping himself amused, trying to chat up a cute little blonde behind him that obviously wasn’t interested.

Chester’s eyes fell on the last member of Good Charlotte that he actually knew, and sighed softly. Lil Billy’s eyes were all over the place, like his, but the young man was obviously in his own little world. Chester watched as the blue eyed boy was distracted by a passing balloon, the helium filled bag obviously having been let loose by someone on the tables behind him (Chester’s bet was on Fred Durst). The childish fascination on that beautiful face made Chester sigh again. He’d been doing that a lot lately.

He’d taken to the young man immediately that night in Brisbane, enchanted by the silky voice, enthralled by the enthusiastic way he talked about his clothing line, the band, his friends, anything really. He’d been instantly enamoured of the obvious childish traits that had come out during their conversation.

The singer had been lost since then.

When he had had to leave, Brad standing over their table with an I-told-you-not-to-stay-out-all-night look I his eye, Billy had shyly handed over the slip of paper with his email address, small smiley faces above the ‘i’s in his name. Chester had had to write his on the back of the lanky guitarist large hand, having no paper on him.

Apparently having lost interest in the balloon, Billy’s attention wandered again, this time falling on the blonde singer who was staring at him intently, lost in his thoughts. Once the singer realised he had been spotted it was too late, Bill raised a hand in greeting, wiggling his long fingers slightly. Chaz waved back, wishing he could go over and talk to the guys, but knowing that if he tried Brad would just pull him back down and tell him off. He didn’t usually let anyone tell his what to do, but he really didn’t want the aggravation of a huffy Braddles all night.

Billy’s mock-yawned, those expressive eyes showing his boredom acutely as he pretended to hang himself with his choker. Chester smiled at him and nodded, showing he understood how the younger man felt, and shrugging his shoulders in a ‘what can you do about it’ way. He was just about to send the man another message when their band name leaked through his consciousness, and everyone stared to clap, the audience below the stage screaming and yelling.

Unlike many of the other people who had got up on that stage, Chester's look of surprise was genuine, had had been so wrapped up in the lanky guitarist that he hadn’t even realised they had been called out for nomination. Pride instantly swept through him and all thoughts of cute, too young men fell from his mind as he followed the band up to receive the award, practically dragging a laughing Mike on stage with him, hugging everyone within reach that could be hugged.


After the show, they all adjourned to the bar. The place was near enough to the award site that there were other celebrities besides themselves there, but not enough to get smothered in all the fake glitz of stardom. Chester, finally free of Brads digging elbow and motherly comments, ordered a beer and let out a huge exaggerated sigh, sagging dramatically onto his best friends side.

“That’s a whole evening of my life I’m never getting back.” Chaz moaned pathetically against Mike’s neck, and the emcee, who had been just as bored sitting the other side of Brad and experiencing the same elbow treatment patted his arm sympathetically.

“I know, Dude, I know.”

Chester turned round again, raising his beer bottle to his lips and taking a long pull. He almost spat the mouthful back out when a pair of hands touched his hips, but managed to keep control of himself long enough to swallow and turn to see who it was.

Crystal clear blue was all he could see for a fraction of a second before the rest of the delicate face came into focus.

“Didn’t think Brit would ever shut up.” The young man said, grinning from ear to ear and making himself look even cuter. Down boy, Chester thought, he’s only a kid.

“Yeah, at least Slim Shady only has to stay up there long enough to get a few swear words in then he’s happy.” Giggle. He actually giggled. Chester’s stomach did a little flip at the sound that would have been girly coming from anyone else, but with Billy it just seemed to…fit.

Chester downed the rest of his beer, immediately ordering another one, and then spying the other mans empty glass.

“Want another?” the singer asked, pointing to the finished drink, and Billy nodded.

“Jack and coke, please.” He said, “Been trying to get another one for a while now, the bar staff like to ignore me.” Aww, Chaz thought, almost giving into the insane urge to hug the slender man.

They stayed where they were, drinking and chatting between themselves. People drifted in and out of the conversation, and at one point Benji had made his way over to the pair, standing directly behind them, back to the bar, claiming that he was hiding. Billy, pretty merry by this time had burst out laughing and informed Chester of Benji’s problem of accumulating harems when he went out. Only for the sake of the bands image and to protect his private life, Benji had not come out and admitted to being gay.

That had brought up a few questions in Chester’s mind. If he hadn’t have been in the middle of his seventh beer, he probably never wouldn’t have asked, but as soon as the other punk had been rescued by his considerable more sober brother, Chester’s curiosity short circuited the more logical parts of his mind.

“So are you?” He asked, watching Billy face for a reaction. All he got was confusion.

“Am I what?”

“Gay.” The singer put plainly, and seeing the younger mans eyes shoot to the floor, he tried to smooth things over; he really liked Billy, and didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable in any way. “I mean, it doesn’t matter, just curious is all.”

The bent head nodded lightly, and the younger man placed his drink on the bar, mumbling something about going to the toilet before heading in the complete opposite direction. Berating himself for opening his big mouth and once more ruining things, Chester drained the rest of his beer and set out in the direction he saw Billy go, sliding through most of the crowd easily, and simply barging those who wouldn’t move out the way.

He found a door at the other end of the bar labelled ‘emergency exit’ the emergency chain to hold the doors together obviously broken a long time before. It would certainly be quiet, and he couldn’t think where else Billy had gone. Hopefully not back to one of the twins to complain about him, because short as they were, they looked pretty built, and he was too drunk to hold himself in a fight against the Madden boys.

He cautiously opened the door, checking around him first before slipping into the non descript concrete corridor. He looked up and down, not seeing anything, and was just turning to go when he heard a sound, like someone’s breath catching. His gaze shot towards the exterior doors, and sure enough, a figure sat on the hard floor, long legs pulled up into his chest, head bent and resting on his knees.

Chester smiled a small self-mocking smile and walked softly over to the guitarist, easing himself down onto the cold floor and biting back a gasp as the cold seeped through his thin bondage pants, making his ass turn numb.

They sat there for a few seconds, not saying anything, before Chester looked at the side of Billy’s face.

“I’m sorry.” He said, watching with growing concern as he saw silver tracks make their way down the pale face in the illumination from the green exit light. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” Billy lifted his head, turning to look at his friend, clear, blue eyes swimming with tears. He even looks beautiful when he cries, Chester thought, and immediately berated himself.

“I never used to be.” The young man whispered, swiping the tears that had fallen off his cheeks angrily. “I had a girlfriend, I thought I was happy with. I wasn’t. We used to fight all the time, I sometimes couldn’t even bear to touch her.” He sniffled and looked at his hands that he had deliberately placed on his lap. “Then I met someone, about six months ago. He was amazing, funny, hot, kind. We talked all night, until he left, and I was so confused afterwards because I felt more attracted to him than I ever did to my girlfriend. So I broke it off.” The small, bitter laugh sounded so alien coming from him. “I never told her the real reason I dumped her was because I fell for a guy.”

Chester sat in silence, letting Billy talk, hope of them ever being together slowly fading away along with the Dutch courage that allowed him to ask the question about Billy’s sexuality in the first place. So he was gay, just in love with some other guy. Whoever he was, he was lucky.

“I wasn’t upset because you asked.” Billy continued, “Confused, a little scared.”

“Of what?” Chester asked, wanting to repair the damaged friendship even though he could never have Billy the way he wanted. He told himself the guitarist was too young anyway. Nine years was a long time.

“Getting the wrong signals, I guess. Doing something stupid.” He looked Chester straight in the eyes. His tears hand dried up, leaving him with slightly red-rimmed eyes, the previous tears making the iris shine an even more brilliant shade of blue. Gods, he’s beautiful, Chester thought, yearning to put him arms around the young man and hold him.

“Like what?” The young man licked his lips, drawing Chester’s gaze. His lip ring glinted in the dark, reflecting the green light and holding the singers attention, the yearning to hold him turning into the painful urge to kiss him.

“This.” The voice had turned from unsure to seductive, and the other man lent over, pressing their lips together softly. The kiss was brief and Chester only had the lasting impression of amazing softness surrounding the cold metal, before it was taken away again. He opened his eyes, unaware that he closed them to find Billy watching him, the side of his head resting on the hard concrete of the wall, at an angle to the rest of his body.

He looked achingly innocent, beautiful perfection staring into his soul with those crystalline blue eyes, emphasised by the smudged black eyeliner. An Angel seducer, that only had to look at him and he would be putty in his hands.

“I’ve wanted you since Brisbane.” The guitarist whispered.

The older man gave a small smile, trailing one finger across the flawless jaw, before outlining those full lips, playing with the lip ring before flattening his hand against the delicate face and leaning in once more to catch the lips of the beautiful man-child in front of him.

A/N: He he! Review you get more. Don’t review, don’t get any more. Simple really!

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