LPfiction

Category Linkin Park

Sick by ALifeForMusic

Sick

Very fluffy, the seconds Bennoda-one shot I wrote in English.


HOPE YOU ENJOY!



Sick


„Chaz, would you bring me some tea, please?”, Mike asks. I grin. “Move your sexy ass, Noda, and get some yourself.”


He pouts and looks a little unnerved. “Chester, you know the doctor told me to stay in bed! Plus, you're my boyfriend, you really should take care of me and-” I chuckle and quickly peck him on the cheek, before turning around, in order to go downstairs. “Chill, Noda. I'll get you some goddamned tea.”


I exit our bedroom and go to the kitchen, which is quite large, and contains everything you could need for cooking.

Which I normally do; Mike is a terrible cook. He's able to scorch water, I swear to God.


I pour water into the kettle and then sit down on a nearby chair, stretching my limps, yawning.

I should take a nap sometime soon. But first of all I have to bring my poor sick boyfriend his tea.


My boyfriend is the best of all. Me and the MC started our relationship roughly about three years ago, but I've already had a crush on him for ages. I think somewhere deep down I fell in love with him the first time I heard his voice over the telephone.


And right now, being ill, with the flushed cheeks, the drowsy way his doe-like eyes always make him look like he is a little lost puppy that has to be taken care of, and the jet-black tousled hair he is nothing short of the most gorgeous and cutest things I've ever seen.


He's even cuter than little, plushy kittens. And little, plushy kittens are unbelievably sweet.


Though I'm almost constantly teasing him, I can't deny I love taking care of him. It's like my – until now unknown – maternal instinct took over me.


I still admire Mike, though, for how patient he acts around me when I'm sick.

I'm a jerk; especially when I'm ill.

But my Noda bear never complained, even before we started dating he would always gladly sacrifice a big part of his rare freetime to look after me.


Mike is one of the most caring and kind people I know. And also one of the most determined and ambitious.

He's basically doing everything. He's the band's glue, the one that kicks our lazy asses and does all the work.

He mixes, produces, sings and raps, plays various instruments, is heavily involved into the artwork and writes awesome lyrics.


He's a perfectionist, through and through. He's strong. My baby is a fighter, but sometimes it's too much for him.

When Mike gets overworked (which doesn't happen very frequently), he becomes physically ill.


Like two days ago.


He recently spend hours mixing and remixing the music, writing and re-writing the lyrics for our record, which is supposed to be finished in a few weeks.

He worked on the artwork and webdesign and spend a shitload of time in marketing meetings.

Plus, there was the constant pressure the lable put on him... it was too much for him to handle, and his body reacted with high fever, dizziness and increased blood pressure.


We were currently standing in the hallway of our house , located in one of Los Angeles' more expensive districts, fussing about the deadline, our webpage and our music in general, when suddenly my boyfriend's face turned pale (as pale as you can get when you have a natural caramel tan), his large eyes widened further and he collapsed right into my arms.


Our little fight was forgotten and being both scared to death and pissed of (because that was not the first something like this happened) I took him to the doctor immediately.


The friendly, gray-haired man confined him to bed, where he 's now been lying for about fifty hours straight and bored out of his mind, because I took his laptop away. I know him too well, he would start Pro Tools immediately after I left our bedroom.

Oh, he's a hopeless workaholic. But I love him with all his flaws.


The kettle peeps and disrupts my thought in the process. I prepare Mike's tea, lime tea, his favorite, grab a pack of chocolate chip cookies (Mike loves them, and I like to spoil him), and head upstairs.


“COOKIES!”, Mike squeals sweetly and the almond shaped eyes widen at the sight of me holding a tray in both hands, those delicious cookies on it, next to the hot, steaming cup of tea.


I chuckle, totally adoring the sight of Mike acting so excited about a few cookies. (Well, those cookies are indeed delicious, and when you've been lying in bed for about two days straight, a pack of those comes close to the most thrilling thing you've experienced in that time.)


I place the tray on the nightstand next to Mike and peck him. “Relax, Darling. At first you drink a cup of tea and then you can have a cookie...”

“But... I want a cookie right now!”, oh no, not that look again. I quickly avert my eyes, because otherwise I would give in in an instant and probably, since it's Sunday, end up breaking into a supermarket, to get him some more cookies.


“No”, I insist. “You drink that cup of tea and afterwards you can eat all of the cookies if you like to...” I turn around and face him, smirking. “But you know how many calories such a cookie contains, eh? Maybe you shouldn't eat all of them...”


Mike pouts and fakes hurt. “So, you wanna say I'm fat?” I grin. I love teasing him. “Yeah, your ass is so fat it broke a table in two...” Mike grins as well. “You're just jealous, 'cause your ass is bony!”


I sigh theatrically. “You caught me...” I turn to leave again. “And, anyways, Mike?”, I look back over my shoulder. “Mhmpf?”, comes the muffled response. I shake my head. He really poured down the tea in two seconds and now looks at me, grinning, and happily munching away on his second cookie.


“I love fat asses”, I chuckle. “And I like bony ones”, he responds, giggling as well.


I head downstairs again, and since I'm not fed sweets the whole day, like my beloved boyfriend, I'm close to starving.


I prepare lunch for myself, knowing that Mike can't be hungry, having eaten lunch just about an hour ago. I sit down in the living room, watching TV and eating, before I eventually fall asleep.



I find myself on a colorful, flowering meadow. A calming breeze surrounds me, while I'm slowly dancing around, happily – “Chaaazy!”


I stir and groan. “CHAAAAZY!”

My eyes shoot open and I quickly sit up and rub them. I yawn, wondering what interrupted my nap, as I hear him screaming again. “CHAAAZ!”


I jump to my feet and practically run upstairs. Did something happen to Mike?

Maybe he poured hot tea over himself and seriously burnt himself in the process, maybe a psycho killer broke into the house, or maybe a meteor- I come to a halt in front of our bed and find myself confronted with an amused and obviously unhurt Mike.


So, he woke me up from my pleasant dream, deprives me of the rest I so desperately need, just because...


“... I want a kiss”, Mike states and smiles at me sweetly. I sigh, unnerved. “You... you really woke me for... a kiss?”

“Yeah...”, the lost-puppy-look again. “I feel lonely...”

I groan. “But I'm exhausted and you fucking woke me for a kiss!”


God, I'm annoyed. But anyhow... this is so cute, so typical for Mike. “Then come over and rest beside me”, Mike pleads, pouting again. “And give me a kiss.”


I sigh, grinning inwardly at how cute Mike is, and take off my pants and my socks.


I huddle under the blankets and snuggle close to Mike. He leans over and affectionately touches my lips with his. “Hm...”, I sigh and return the kiss with equal tenderness.


The sweet touches of our lips and the feverish heat that radiates around Mikes body quickly lull me into a sleep-like-state. I curl up against Mike and nuzzle the crook of my boyfriend's neck, before I finally fall asleep, a content smile adorning my lips.


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