LPfiction

Category Linkin Park

Sleeping Sickness by Yassim

Falling

Disclaimer: Dont own LP


So I know most of us have probably been worried about Chester's well being for last few days and I know I have been and it caused me to just blurt this out in a few hours. Just some sweet fluff between Mike and Chaz :3


~*~


Mike had his eyes closed as he rested his head on the back of the chair. Though, he was still awake, listening to the hypnotic wheezing inhale and exhale coming from the bed directly in front of him. He was drained and in desperate need of rest but he found himself unable to leave his sick bandmates’ side.


It happened like this almost every tour. Chester would get sick and more often than not, be hospitalized for a day or two, causing panic all around. Unfortunately, Mike being the way he was, always worried the most. Being concerned to the point of paranoia was natural for him, so in effect, two or three times a year, Mike would thusly convince himself that Chester was on his death bed and become almost unbearable to be around. Occasionally he became so upset over the singer’s health, or lack thereof, he would be unable to eat for days and became snappy to anyone who wasn’t Chester.


And this time was no different. It had been six days since Chester had voiced concerns about feeling ill and every day he became worse. His skin was bruised and pale looking, a permanent sheen of sweat covering his entire body as he shook and whimpered. His eyes were sunken and it looked as though he had lost about ten pounds since falling ill. The singer was already slim but with the loss of more weight, his bones had suddenly become more prominent, the knuckles on his fingers jutted out and his cheekbones became more sharp and noticeable.


“Mike,” Chester’s soft melodic voice called out in the darkness, weak and raspy; searching for comfort.


The emcee’s chest clenched painfully at the sound, as it often had since their last show in Toronto. Chester showed no signs of recovery and was currently swaddled in a thick blanket in an expensive hotel room, courtesy of Mike. Unsurprisingly, he found himself too worried to leave Chester’s side and had taken to caring for him like he would his wife or child. He was usually seen fluttering around the singer looking flustered and unkempt. His bandmates had begun calling him a mother hen after only a couple of days, which had prompted a delicate smile to form across Chester’s thin lips. That had been the last smile Mike had seen from the vocalist; now his face was permanently pinched in pain or discomfort.


Mike was currently situated beside the bed in a large puffy chair that he had dragged over almost as soon as they had entered the hotel room. When Chester’s feeble voice, usually loud and boisterous, reached his ears, he immediately perked up from his slouched position and leaned closer to the singer, turning on the bed side table lamp as he went.


“What is it?” He whispered softly as Chester’s tired doe eyes caressed his face, taking in his tired features.


“You need to sleep,” The vocalist wheezed, his lips barely moving with the words. “If you keep this up…you’re going to get sick too…”


It was late, maybe around 2 in the morning, and the day had been stressful and long. They had taken Chester to the hospital earlier in the day and after a strict order from the doctor to stay in bed and recoup, Mike only ever let the singer up to go to the bathroom. Other than that, he would spoon feed him broth and small chips of salted crackers, hoping eventually the substance would stay down. So far anything Chester ate, came right back up within 5 minutes.


“I’m fine,” Mike assured, reaching forward to rest the back of his hand on Chester’s clammy cheek. “You, on the other hand, need much more rest then I do.”


“I’m too hot to sleep,” The singer whimpered, fidgeting a little under the blanket. “Too exhausted to close my eyes or…or eat…” His voice trailed off as a small, desperate, keening noise escaped his lips. He hated being sick and yet it happened almost every time they were on tour.


“I’ll go wet a cold cloth for your forehead; it may make you feel better.” Mike pulled his hand away from Chester’s flushed cheek with reluctance and shuffled over to the sink in the adjoining bathroom.


For a moment, he placed his hands on the countertop and resisted the urge break down. He was so tired, he actually thought he may cry. But Chester was his best friend, his bandmate and Mike was going to make sure he did all he could to be sure the vocalist could recover quickly. He tiredly rubbed his face with both hands and breathed deeply to gather strength. Feeling a little better, he dipped a white face cloth under some cold water and wrung it until it stopped dripping.


Padding back into the room, he pursed his lips at the sight of the singer. Chester was looking up at the ceiling, his lower lip trembling as a shining wetness trailed across his temples.


“Chester,” Mike whispered, his voice desperate and helpless as he rushed over to the bed.


He sat down on the bed beside the vocalist and placed the folded cloth across his heated forehead. Chester adamantly looked away from the emcee, feeling ashamed and weak. Mike shook his head at the action and wiped the remnants of tears from the man’s gaunt features with gentle thumbs.


“Hey,” He said softly, smiling a little as Chester looked back up at him with fragile eyes. “Maybe you should take another one of the pills the doctor prescribed for you? It’ll help you sleep.”


Chester nodded faintly and Mike reached forward to scoop the small man into his arms, effectively helping him into a sitting position and also managing to keep the wet cloth from slipping off. With the vocalist leaning against his chest, Mike stretched out his arm for a small orange pill bottle, uncapping it shaking out a powder white pill, and then went back for a glass of water situated on the bedside table.


“Open,” Mike said quietly, holding the pill in one hand and the glass of water in the other while Chester was situated between the two. It wasn’t awkward to have the smaller man in his arms, Mike mused briefly as the singer opened his mouth in compliance to the emcee’s request.


The rapper carefully dropped the pill onto Chester’s tongue and then gently settled the cool glass of water against the vocalists lower lip. Chester leaned his head back against Mike’s collarbone and Mike obediently followed the slow movement with his hand, watching intently as the clear liquid passed through Chester’s lips and flowed down his throat. When the small glass was empty, Mike pulled it away and set it back on the bed side table, smiling warmly when the sick man finally closed his eyes while staying firmly nuzzled against Mike’s neck.


“You’re getting my neck wet with that cloth.” The emcee said softly, his chest rumbling against Chester with the effort to stay quiet.


“That’s not my fault.” Chester murmured back, a small smile forming at the corners of his lips.


Mike’s heart almost leapt out of his chest at the sight. He had been waiting for days to see that smile again. He was so elated that he wrapped both arms firmly around the small body leaning against him and pressed his cheek atop of Chester’s shaven head, an unsuppressed grin spreading across his lips.


“Don’t go all gooey on me,” The singer rasped, embarrassed as Mike’s arms tightened protectively around him. It had been a very long time since anyone had held him like this and it made him feel almost guilty. The half Japanese man was one of the most kind people he had ever had the privilege of meeting and he knew someone like that deserved more then what Chester could give him.


“Oh, shut up, I know your loving this.” Mike chuckled and reluctantly pulled away a little bit, just in case the singer was serious.


But Chester made a noise of protest at the movement and Mike smiled a little as he pressed his cheek against the vocalists head again. Chester had always been a stubborn man and he usually found it endearing. The short hair on the singers scalp tickled his face and it made him smile as he nuzzled his soft cheek against the friction. Finally becoming still, the pair fell in to a comfortable silence. Just as the emcee was about to doze off, feeling warm and pleased, a tentative voice called him to attention.


“Mike?” Chester asked softly, shifting around a little bit in the confines of the blanket.


“Hmm?” Mike murmured, beginning to feel foggy and not at all articulate.


“Happy birthday,” The singer whispered, his voice laced with guilt. He knew Mike had cancelled any birthday celebrations to care for him instead.


“Thanks, Ches,” Mike smiled comfortingly, hugging Chester tightly for a brief moment, just pleased that the vocalist even remembered.


He began humming softly as they became comfortable in their embrace and before long Mike was watching the slow rise and fall of the vocalists chest, accompanied by deep breaths, signaling the older man was fast asleep. Finally, Mike allowed himself a moment of rest as well, knowing Chester wouldn’t get far without waking him up if the singer was tempted to do something stupid…like trying to feed himself. The last time he had tried that, he had just ended up with boiling soup all over the front his shirt. Mike couldn’t help but smile a little at the recent memory; Chester fluttering around and screeching profanities was one of the more amusing things he had seen.


Chester’s head lolled peacefully against Mike’s collarbone as he slept and the emcee swallowed at the sight. It had been too many days to count since he had seen such a serene look on Chester’s features. He continued to hum a nameless melody but it quickly faded as he became cozy and relaxed and with Chester’s back tucked up against his front, Mike fell into a peaceful slumber with an affectionate smile on his lips.



~*~


Could continue, but not sure if I will, so I'll just leave it as a standalone for now ;) You guys know how bad at updates I am..


Yas

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